Chapter VIII: Part 8

_Bob._ Oh my Lord,
They have beat him on his knees.

_Luc._ Though I want courage:
I yet have a sons duty in me, and
Compassion of a fathers danger; that,
That wholly now possesses me.

_Alv. Lucio._
This is beyond my hope.

_Met._ So _Lazarillo_,
Take up all boy: well done.

_Pach._ And now steal off
Closely and cunningly.

_An._ How? have I found you?
Why Gentlemen, are you mad, to make your selves
A prey to Rogues?

_Lam._ Would we were off.

_Bob._ Theeves, theeves.

_Lam._ Defer our own contention: and down with them.

_Luc._ I'll make you sure.

_Bob._ Now he plays the Devil.

_Gen._ This place is not for me. [_Exit._

_Luc._ I'll follow her
Half of my pennance is past oe'r. [_Exit._

_Enter_ Alguazier, Assistant, _and other Watches_.

_Alg._ What noyse?
What tumult's there? keep the Kings peace I charge you.

_Pach._ I am glad he's come yet.

_Alv._ O, you keep good Guard
Upon the City, when men of our ranck
Are set upon in the streets.

_Lam._ The assistants
Shall hear on't be assur'd.

_An._ And if he be
That careful Governor he is reported,
You will smart for it.

_Alg._ Patience, good Signiors:
Let me survey the Rascals: O, I know them,
And thank you for them: they are pilf'ring rogues
Of _Andaluza_ that have perus'd
All Prisons in _Castile_: I dare not trust
The dungeon with them: no, I'll have them home
To my own house.

_Pach._ We had rather go to prison.

_Alg._ Had you so dog-bolts? yes, I know you had:
You there would use your cunning fingers on
The simple locks; you would: but I'll prevent you.

_Lam._ My Mistriss lost, good night. [_Exit._

_Bob._ Your Son's gone too,
What should become of him?

_Alv._ Come of him, what will:
Now he dares fight, I care not: I'll to bed,
Look to your prisoners _Alguazier_. [_Exit with Boba._

_Alg._ All's clear'd:
Droop not for one disaster: let us hug,
And triumph in our knaveries.

_Assist._ This confirms
What was reported of him.

_Met._ 'Twas done bravely.

_Alg._ I must a little glory in the means
We Officers have, to play the Knaves, and safely:
How we break through the toyles, pitch'd by the Law,
Yet hang up them that are far less delinquents:
A simple shopkeeper's carted for a bawd
For lodging (though unwittingly) a smock-Gamster:
Where, with rewards, and credit I have kept
_Malroda_ in my house, as in a cloyster,
Without taint, or suspition.

_Pach._ But suppose
The Governor should know't?

_Alg._ He? good Gentleman,
Let him perplex himself with prying into
The measures in the market, and th'abuses
The day stands guilty of: the pillage of the night
Is only mine, mine own fee simple;
Which you shall hold from me, tenants at will,
And pay no rent for't.

_Pach._ Admirable Landlord.

_Alg._ Now we'll go search the Taverns, commit such
As we find drinking: and be drunk our selves
With what we take from them: these silly wretches
Whom I for form sake only have brought hither
Shall watch without, and guard us.

_Assist._ And we will
See you safe lodg'd, most worthy _Alguazier_,
With all of you his comrads.

_Met._ 'Tis the Governor.

_Alg._ We are betray'd?

_Assist._ My guard there; bind them fast:
How men in high place and authority
Are in their lives and estimations wrong'd
By their subordinate Ministers! yet such
They cannot but imploy: wrong'd justice finding
Scarce one true servant in ten officers.
'T'expostulate with you, were but to delay
Your crimes due punishment, which shall fall upon you
So speedily, and severely, that it shall
Fright others by th'example: and confirm
How ever corrupt Officers may disgrace
Themselves, 'tis not in them to wrong their place
Bring them away.

_Alg._ We'll suffer nobly yet,
And like to _Spanish_ Gallants.

_Pach._ And we'll hang so.

_Laz._ I have no stomach to it: but I'll endeavor. [_Exeunt._

_Scæna Quarta._

_Enter_ Lucio, _and_ Genevora.

_Gen._ Nay you are rude; pray you forbear, you offer now
More than the breeding of a Gentleman
Can give you warrant for.

_Luc._ 'Tis but to kiss you,
And think not I'll receive that for a favour
Which was enjoyn'd me for a pennance, Lady.

_Gen._ You have met a gentle confessor, and for once
(So then you will rest satisfied) I vouchsafe it.

_Luc._ Rest satisfied with a kiss? why can a man
Desire more from a woman? is there any
Pleasure beyond it? may I never live
If I know what it is.

_Gen._ Sweet Innocence.

_Luc._ What strange new motions do I feel? my veins
Burn with an unknown fire: in every part
I suffer alteration: I am poyson'd,
Yet languish with desire again to tast it,
So sweetly it works on me.

_Gen._ I ne'r saw
A lovely man, till now.

_Luc._ How can this be?
She is a woman, as my mother is,
And her I have kiss'd often, and brought off
My lips unscortch'd; yours are more lovely, Lady,
And so should be less hurtful: pray you vouchsafe
Your hand to quench the heat tane from your Lip,
Perhaps that may restore me.

_Gen._ Willingly.

_Luc._ The flame increases: if to touch you, burn thus,
What would more strict embraces do? I know not,
And yet methinks to die so, were to ascend
To heaven, through Paradise.

_Gen._ I am wounded too,
Though modesty forbids that I should speak
What ignorance makes him bold in: why do you fix
Your eyes so strongly on me?

_Luc._ Pray you stand still,
There is nothing else, that is worth the looking on:
I could adore you, Lady.

_Gen._ Can you love me?

_Luc._ To wait on you, in your chamber, and but touch
What you, by wearing it, have made divine,
Were such a happiness. I am resolved,
I'll sell my liberty to you for this glove,
And write my self your slave.

_Enter_ Lamorall.

_Gen._ On easier terms,
Receive it as a friend.

_Lam._ How! giving favor!
I'll have it with his heart.

_Gen._ What will you do?

_Luc._ As you are merciful, take my life rather.

_Gen._ Will you depart with't so?

_Lam._ Do's that grieve you?

_Gen._ I know not: but even now you appear valiant.

_Luc._ 'Twas to preserve my father: in his cause
I could be so again.

_Gen._ Not in your own? Kneel to thy Rival and thine enemy?
Away unworthy creature, I begin
To hate my self, for giving entrance to
A good opinion of thee: for thy torment,
If my poor beauty be of any power,
Mayst thou doat on it desperately: but never
Presume to hope for grace, till thou recover
And wear the favor that was ravish'd from thee.

_Lam._ He wears my head too then.

_Gen._ Poor fool, farewell. [_Exit._

_Luc._ My womanish soul, which hitherto hath govern'd
This coward flesh, I feel departing from me;
And in me by her beauty is inspir'd
A new, and masculine one: instructing me
What's fit to do or suffer; powerful love
That hast with loud, and yet a pleasing thunder
Rous'd sleeping manhood in me, thy new creature,
Perfect thy work so that I may make known
Nature (though long kept back) will have her own. [_Exeunt._

_Actus Quintus. Scæna Prima._

_Enter_ Lamorall _and_ Lucio.

_Lam._ Can it be possible, that in six short hours
The subject still the same, so many habits
Should be remov'd? or this new _Lucio_, he
That yesternight was baffeld and disgrac'd,
And thank'd the man that did it, that then kneeld
And blubber'd like a woman, should now dare
On terms of honor seek reparation
For what he then appear'd not capable of?

_Luc._ Such miracles, men that dare do injuries
Live to their shames to see, and for punishment
And scourge to their proud follies.

_Lam._ Prethee leave me:
Had I my Page, or foot-man here to flesh thee,
I durst the better hear thee.

_Luc._ This scorn needs not:
And offer such no more.

_Lam._ Why say I should,
You'll not be angry?

_Luc._ Indeed I think I shall,
Would you vouchsafe to shew your self a Captain,
And lead a little farther, to some place
That's less frequented.

_Lam._ He looks pale.

_Luc._ If not,
Make use of this.

_Lam._ There's anger in his eyes too:
His gesture, voyce, behaviour, all new fashion'd;
Well, if it does endure in act the triall
Of what in show it promises to make good,
_Ulysses_ Cyclops, _Io's_ transformation,
_Eurydice_ fetch from Hell, with all the rest
Of _Ovids_ Fables, I'll put in your Creed;
And for proof, all incredible things may be,
Write down that _Lucio_, the coward _Lucio_,
The womanish _Lucio_ fought.

_Luc._ And _Lamorall_,
The still imploy'd great duellist _Lamorall_,
Took his life from him.

_Lam._ 'Twill not come to that sure:
Methinks the only drawing of my Sword
Should fright that confidence.

_Luc._ It confirms it rather.
To make which good, know you stand now oppos'd
By one that is your Rival, one that wishes
Your name and title greater, to raise his;
The wrong you did, less pardonable than it is,
But your strength to defend it, more than ever
It was when justice friended it. The Lady
For whom we now contend, _Genevora_
Of more desert, (if such incomparable beauty
Could suffer an addition) your love
To Don _Vitelli_ multipli'd, and your hate
Against my father and his house increas'd;
And lastly, that the Glove which you there wear,
To my dishonour, (which I must force from you)
Were dearer to you than your life.

_Lam._ You'l find
It is, and so I'll guard it:

_Luc._ All these must meet then
With the black infamy, to be foyl'd by one
That's not allowd a man: to help your valor,
That falling by your hand, I may, or dye,
Or win in this one single opposition
My Mistriss, and such honor as I may
Inrich my fathers Arms with.

_Lam._ 'Tis said Nobly;
My life with them are at the stake.

_Luc._ At all then. [_Fight._

_Lam._ She's yours, this and my life too follow your fortune,
And give not only back that part, the looser
Scorns to accept of--

_Luc._ What's that?

_Lam._ My poor life,
Which do not leave me as a farther torment,
Having dispoil'd me of my Sword, mine honor,
Hope of my Ladies grace, fame, and all else
That made it worth the keeping.

_Luc._ I take back
No more from you, than what you forc'd from me;
And with a worser title: yet think not
That I'll dispute this, as made insolent
By my success, but as one equal with you,
If so you will accept me; that new courage,
Or call it fortune if you please, that is
Conferr'd upon me by the only sight
Of fair _Genevora_, was not bestow'd on me
To bloody purposes: nor did her command
Deprive me of the happiness to see her
But till I did redeem her favor from you;
Which only I rejoyce in, and share with you
In all you suffer else.

_Lam._ This curtesie
Wounds deeper than your Sword can, or mine own;
Pray you make use of either, and dispatch me.

_Luc._ The barbarous Turk is satisfied with spoil;
And shall I, being possest of what I came for,
Prove the more Infidel?

_Lam._ You were better be so,
Than publish my disgrace, as 'tis [t]he custom,
And which I must expect.

_Luc._ Judge better on me:
I have no tongue to trumpet mine own praise
To your dishonor: 'tis a bastard courage
That seeks a name out that way, no true born one;
Pray you be comforted, for by all goodness
But to her virtuous self, the best part of it,
I never will discover on what terms
I came by these: which yet I take not from you,
But leave you in exchange of them, mine own,
With the desire of being a friend; which if
You will not grant me, but on farther trial
Of manhood in me, seek me when you please,
(And though I might refuse it with mine honor)
Win them again, and wear them: so good morrow. [_Exit._

_Lam._ I ne'r knew what true valor was till now;
And have gain'd more by this disgrace, than all
The honors I have won: they made me proud,
Presumptuous of my fortune; a mere beast,
Fashion'd by them, only to dare and do:
Yielding no reasons for my wilful actions
But what I stuck on my Swords point, presuming
It was the best Revenew. How unequal
Wrongs well maintain'd makes us to others, which
Ending with shame teach us to know our selves,
I will think more on't.

_Enter_ Vitelli.

_Vit. Lamorall._

_Lam._ My Lord?

_Vit._ I came to seek you.

_Lam._ And unwillingly;
You ne'r found me t[i]ll now: your pleasure Sir?

_Vit._ That which will please thee friend: thy vowd love to me
Shall now be put in action: means is offer'd
To use thy good Sword for me; that which still
Thou wearst, as if it were a part of thee.
Where is it?

_Lam._ 'Tis chang'd for one more fortunate:
Pray you enquire not how.

_Vit._ Why, I ne'r thought
That there was musick in't, but ascribe
The fortune of it to the arm.

_Lam._ Which is grown weaker too. I am not (in a word)
Worthy your friendship: I am one new vanquish'd,
Yet shame to tell by whom.

_Vit._ But I'll tell thee
'Gainst whom thou art to fight, and there redeem
Thy honor lost, if there be any such:
The King, by my long suit, at length is pleas'd
That _Alvarez_ and my self, with eithers Second,
Shall end the difference between our houses,
Which he accepts of, I make choice of thee;
And where you speak of a disgrace, the means
To blot it out, by such a publick trial
Of thy approved valor, will revive
Thy antient courage. If you imbrace it do;
If not, I'll seek some other.

_Lam._ As I am
You may command me.

_Vit._ Spoke like that true friend
That loves not only for his private end. [_Exeunt._

_Scæna Secunda._

_Enter_ Genevora, _with a Letter and_ Bobadilla.

_Gen._ This from _Madona Clara_?

_Bob._ Yes, an't please you.

_Gen. Alvarez_ daughter?

_Bob._ The same, Lady.

_Gen._ She,
That sav'd my brothers life?

_Bob._ You are still in the right,
She wil'd me wait your walking forth: and knowing
How necessary a discreet wise man
Was in a business of such weight, she pleas'd
To think on me: it may be in my face
Your Ladyship, not acquainted with my wisdom,
Finds no such matter: what I am, I am;
Thought's free, and think you what you please.

_Gen._ 'Tis strange.

_Bob._ That I should be wise, Madam?

_Gen._ No, thou art so;
There's for thy pains: and prethee tell thy Lady
I will not fail to meet her: I'll receive
Thy thanks and duty in thy present absence:
Farewell, farewell, I say, now thou art wise. [_Exit Bob._
She writes here, she hath something to impart
That may concern my brothers life; I know not,
But general fame does give her out so worthy,
That I dare not suspect her: yet wish _Lucio_,

_Enter_ Lucio.

Were Master of her mind: but fie upon't;
Why do I think on him? see, I am punish'd for it,
In his unlook'd for presence: Now I must
Endure another tedious piece of Courtship,
Would make one forswear curtesie.

_Luc._ Gracious Madam,
The sorrow paid for your just anger towards me
Arising from my weakness, I presume
To press into your presence, and despair not
An easie pardon.

_Gen._ He speaks sence: oh strange.

_Luc._ And yet believe, that no desire of mine,
Though all are too strong in me, had the power
For their delight, to force me to infringe
What you commanded, it being in your part
To [l]essen your great rigor when you please,
And mine to suffer with an humble patience
What you'l impose upon it.

_Gen._ Courtly too.

_Luc._ Yet hath the poor, and contemn'd _Lucio_, Madam,
(Made able only by his hope to serve you)
Recover'd what with violence, not justice,
Was taken from him: and here at your feet
With these, he could have laid the conquer'd head
Of _Lamorall_ ('tis all I say of him)
For rudely touching that, which as a relique
I ever would have worship'd, since 'twas yours.

_Gen._ Valiant, and every thing a Lady could
Wish in her servant.

_Luc._ All that's good in me,
That h[e]avenly love, the opposite to base lust,
Which would have all men worthy, hath created;
Which being by your beams of beauty form'd,
Cherish as your own creature.

_Gen._ I am gone
Too far now to dissemble: rise, or sure
I must kneel with you too: let this one kiss
Speak the rest for me: 'tis too much I do,
And yet, if chastity would, I could wish more.

_Luc._ In overjoying me, you are grown sad;
What is it Madam? by ----
There's nothing that's within my nerves (and yet
Favour'd by you, I should as much as man)
But when you please, now or on all occasions
You can think of hereafter, but you may
Dispose of at your pleasure.

_Gen._ If you break
That oath again, you loose me. Yet so well
I love you, I shall never put you to't;
And yet forget it not: rest satisfied
With that you have receiv'd now: there are eyes
May be upon us, till the difference
Between our friends are ended: I would not
Be seen so private with you.

_Luc._ I obey you.

_Gen._ But let me hear oft from you, and remember
I am _Vitellies_ Sister.

_Luc._ What's that Madam?

_Gen._ Nay nothing, fare you well: who feels loves fire,
Would ever ask to have means to desire. [_Exeunt._

_Scæna Tertia._

_Enter_ Assistente, Sayavedra, Anastro, Herald,
Attendants.

_Assist._ Are they come in?

_H[e]r._ Yes.

_Assist._ Read the Proclamation,
That all the people here assembled may
Have satisfaction, what the Kings dear love,
In care of the Republick, hath ordained;
Attend with silence: read aloud.

Herald Reads.

_Forasmuch as our high and mighty Master_, Philip, _the potent_
_and most Catholick King of_ Spain, _hath not only in his own_
_Royal person, been long, and often sollicited, and grieved,
with the deadly and [uncurable] hatred, sprung up betwixt the
two antient and most [honorable] descended Houses of these
his two dearly and equally beloved Subjects_, Don Ferdinando
de Alvarez, _and_ Don Pedro de Vitelli: _(all which in vain
his Majesty hath often endeavored to reconcile and qualifie:)
But that also through the debates, quarrels, and outrages
daily arising, falling, and flowing from these great heads,
his publick civil Government is seditiously and barbarously
molested and wounded, and many of his chief Gentry (no less
tender to his Royal Majesty then the very branches of his
own sacred blood) spoyld, lost, and submerged, in the impious_
_inundation and torrent of their still-growing malice: It hath
therefore pleased His sacred Majesty, out of his infinite
affection to preserve his Common-wealth, and general peace,
from farther violation, (as a sweet and heartily loving
father of his people) and on the earnest petitions of these
arch-enemies, to Order, and ordain, that they b[e] ready,
each with his well-chosen and beloved friend, armed at
all points like Gentlemen, in the Castle of_ St. Jago, _on
this present Monday morning betwixt eight and nine of the
clock, where (before the combattants be allowed to commence
this granted Duel) This to be read aloud for the publick
satisfaction of his Majesties well bel[o]ved Subjects._

'Save the King. [_Drums within._

_Say._ Hark their Drums speak their insatiate thirst
Of blood, and stop their ears 'gainst pious peace,
Who gently whispering, implores their friendship!

_Assist._ Kings nor authority can master fate;
Admit 'em then, and blood extinguish hate.

_Enter severally,_ Alvarez, and Lucio, Vitelli _and_
Lamora[l].

_Say._ Stay, yet be pleas'd to think, and let not daring
Wherein men now adaies exceed even beasts,
And think themselves not men else, so transport you
Beyond the bounds of _Christianity_:
Lord _Alvarez, Vitelli_, Gentlemen,
No Town in _Spain_, from our _Metropolis_
Unto the rudest hovel, but is great
With your assured valors daily proofs:
Oh will you then, for a superfluous fame,
A sound of honor, which in these times, all
Like hereticks profess (with obstinacy)
But most erroneously venture your souls,
'Tis a hard task, through a Sea of blood
To sail, and land at Heaven?

_Vit._ I hope not
If justice be my Pilot: but my Lord,
You know, if argument, or time, or love,
Could reconcile, long since we had shook hands;
I dare protest, your breath cools not a vein
In any one of us, but blows the fire
Which nought but blood reciprocal can quench.

_Alv. Vitelli_, thou sayst bravely, and sayst right,
And I will kill thee for't, I love thee so.

_Vit._ Ha, ha, old man: upon thy death I'll build
A story (with this arm) for thy old wife
To tell thy daughter _Clara_ seven years hence
As she sits weeping by a winters fire,
How such a time _Vitelli_ slew her husband
With the same Sword his daughter favor'd him,
And lives, and wears it yet: Come _Lamorall_,
Redeem thy self.

_Lam. Lucio, Genevora_
Shall on this Sword receive thy bleeding heart,
For my presented hat, laid at her feet.

_Luc._ Thou talk'st well _Lamorall_, but 'tis thy head
That I will carry to her to thy hat:
Fie Father, I do cool too much.

_Alv._ Oh boy:
Thy fathers true Son:
Beat Drums,--and so good morrow to your Lordship.

_Enter above_ Eugenia, Clara, Genevora.

_Say._ Brave resolutions.

_Anast._ Brave, and Spanish right.

_Gen. Lucio._

_Cla. Vitelli._

_Eug. Alvarez._

_Alv._ How the devil
Got these Cats into th'gutter? my pusse too?

_Eug._ Hear us.

_Gen._ We must be heard.

_Cla._ We will be heard
_Vitelli_, look, see _Clara_ on her knees
Imploring thy compassion: Heaven, how sternly
They dart their emulous eyes, as if each scorn'd
To be behind the other in a look!
Mother, death needs no Sword here: oh my Sister
(Fate fain would have it so) persuade, entreat,
A Ladies tears are silent Orators
(Or should be so at least) to move beyond
The honest tongu'd-Rhetorician:
Why will you fight? why do's an uncles death
Twenty year old, exceed your love to me
But twenty days? whose forc'd cause, and fair manner
You could not understand, only have heard.
Custom, that wrought so cunningly on nature
In me, that I forgot my sex, and knew not
Whether my body female were, or male,
You did unweave, and had the power to charm
A new creation in me, made me fear
To think on those deeds I did perpetrate,
How little power though you allow to me
That cannot with my sighs, my tears, my prayers
Move you from your own loss, if you should gain.

_Vit._ I must forget you _Clara_, 'till I have
Redeem'd my unkles blood, that brands my face
Like a pestiferous Carbuncle: I am blind
To what you do: deaf to your cries: and Marble
To all impulsive exorations.
When [o]n this point, I have perch'd thy fathers soul,
I'll tender thee this bloody reeking hand
Drawn forth the bowels of that murtherer:
If thou canst love me then, I'll marry thee,
And for thy father lost, get thee a Son;
On no condition else.

_Assist._ Most barbarous.

_Say._ Savage.

_Anast._ Irreligious.

_Gen._ Oh _Lucio_!
Be thou merciful: thou bear'st fewer years,
Art lately wean'd from soft eff[e]minacy,
A maidens manners, and a maidens heart
Are neighbors still to thee: be then more mild,
Proceed not to this combat; be'st thou desperate
Of thine own life? yet (dearest) pitty mine
Thy valour's not thine own, I gave it thee,
These eyes begot it, this tongue bred it up,
This breast would lodge it: do not use my gifts
To mine own ruine: I have made thee rich,
Be not so thankless, to undo me for't.

_Luc._ Mistriss, you know I do not wear a vein.
I would not rip for you, to do you service:
Life's but a word, a shadow, a melting dream,
Compar'd to essential, and eternal honor.
Why, would you have me value it beyond
Your b[r]other: if I first cast down my sword
May all my body here, be made one wound,
And yet my soul not find heaven thorough it.

_Alv._ You would be catter-walling too, but peace,
Go, get you home, and provide dinner for
Your Son, and me: wee'll be exceeding merry:
Oh _Lucio_, I will have thee cock of all
The proud _Vitellies_ that do live in _Spain_:
Fie, we shall take cold: hunch:----I am hoarse
Already.

_Lam._ How your Sister whets my spleen!
I could eat _Lucio_ now:

_Gen. Vitelli_, Brother,
Ev'n for your Fathers soul, your uncles blood,
As you do love my life: but last, and most
As you respect your own Honor, and Fame,
Throw down your sword; he is most valiant
That herein yields first.

_Vit._ Peace, you fool.

_Cla._ Why _Lucio_,
Do thou begin; 'tis no disparagement:
He's elder, and thy better, and thy valor
Is in his infancy.

_Gen._ Or pay it me,
To whom thou ow'st it: Oh, that constant time
Would but go back a week, then _Lucio_
Thou would'st not dare to fight.

_Eug. Lucio_, thy Mother,
Thy Mother begs it: throw thy sword down first.

_Alv._ I'll throw his head down after then.

_Gen. Lamorall._
You have often swore you'ld be commanded by me.

_Lam._ Never to this: your spight, and scorn _Genevora_,
Has lost all power in me:

_Gen._ Your hearing for six words.

_Ass. Say. An._ Strange obstinacy!

_Al. Vit. Lu. Lam._ We'll stay no longer.

_Cla._ Then by thy oath _Vitelli_,
Thy dreadfu[l] oath, thou wouldst return that Sword
When I should ask it, give it to me, now,
This instant I require it.

_Gen._ By thy vow,
As dreadful _Lucio_, to obey my will
In any one thing I would watch to challenge,
I charge thee not to strike a stroak: now he
Of our two brothers that loves perjury
Best, and dares first be damn'd, infringe his vow.

_Say._ Excellent Ladies.

_Vit._ Pish, you tyrannize.

_Luc._ We did equivocate.

_Alv._ On.

_Cla._ Then _Lucio_,
So well I love my husband, for he is so,
(Wanting but ceremony) that I pray
His vengeful sword may fall upon thy head
Succesfully for false-hood to his Sister.

_Gen._ I likewise pray (_Vitelli_) _Lucio's_ sword
(Who equally is my husband as thou hers)
May find thy false heart, that durst gage thy faith,
And durst not keep it.

_Assist._ Are you men, or stone.

_Alv._ Men, and we'll prove it with our swords:

_Eug._ Your hearing for six words, and we have done,
_Zancho_ come forth--we'll fight our challenge too:
Now speak your resolutions.

[_Enter_ Bob[a]dilla _with two swords and a Pistol_.

_Gen._ These they are,
The first blow given betwixt you, sheathes these swords
In one anothers bosomes.

_Eug._ And rogue, look
You at that instant do discharge that Pistol
Into my breast: if you start back, or quake,
I'll stick you like a Pig.

_Alv._ --Hold, you are mad.

_Gen._ This we said: and by our hope of bliss
This we will do: speak your intents.

_Cla. Gen._ Strike.

_Eug._ Shoot.

_A[l]. Vit. L[u]. La._ Hold, hold: all friends.

_Assist._ Come down.

_Alv._ These devilish women
Can make men friends and enemies when they list.

_Say._ A gallant undertaking and a happy;
Why this is noble in you: and will be
A welcomer present to our Master _Philip_
Than the return from his _Indies_.

_Enter_ Clara, Genevora, Eugenia, _and_ Bobadilla.

_Cla._ Father, your blessing.

_Alv._ Take her: if ye bring not
Betwixt you, boys that will find out new worlds,
And win 'em too, I'm a false Prophet.

_Vit._ Brother.
There is a Sister, long divided streams
Mix now at length, by fate.

_Bob._ I am not regarded: I was the careful Steward that
provided these Instruments of peace, I put the longest weapon
in your Sisters hand, (my Lord) because she was the shortest
Lady: For likely the shortest Ladies love the longest ---- men:
And for mine own part, I could have discharged it: my Pistol
is no ordinary Pistol, it has two ramming bullets; but thought
I, why should I shoot my two bullets into my old Lady? if they
had gone, I would not have staid long after: I would ev'n have
died too, bravely y'faith, like a _Roman_ Steward: hung my self
in mine own chain, and there had been a story of _Bobadilla,_
_Spindola, Zancho_, for after ages to lament: hum: I perceive,
I am not only not regarded, but also not rewarded.

_Alv._ Prethee peace: 'shalt have a new chain, next Saint
_Jaques_ day, or this new gilt:

_Bob._ I am satisfied: let virtue have her due: And yet I am
melancholy upon this atonement: pray heaven the State rue it
not: I would my Lord _Vitellie's_ Steward, and I could meet:
they should find it should cost 'em a little more to make us
friends: well, I will forswear wine, and women for a year:
and then I will be drunk to morrow, and run a whoring like a
dog with a broken bottle at's tail; then will I repent next
day, and forswear 'em again more vehemently: be forsworn next
day again, and repent my repentance: for thus a melancholy
Gentleman doth, and ought to live.

_Assist._ Nay, you s[h]all dine with me: and afterward
I'll with ye to the King: But first, I will
Dispatch the Castles business, that this day
May be compleat. Bring forth the malefactors.

_Enter_ Alguazier, Pachieco, Metaldi, Mendoza, Lazaril,
Piorato, Malroda, _and Guard_.

You _Alguazier_, the Ringleader of these
Poor fellows, are degraded from your office,
You must return all stolen goods you receiv'd,
And watch a twelve month without any pay:
This, if you fail of, (all your goods confiscate)
You are to be whipt, and sent into the Gallies.

_Alg._ I like all, but restoring that Catholique Doctrine.
I do dislike: Learn all ye officers
By this to live uprightly (if you can.) [_Exit._

_Assist._ You Cobler, to t[r]anslate your manners new,
Are doom'd to th' Cloisters of the Mendicants,
With this your brother, botcher, there for nothing
To cobble, and heel hose for the poor Friers,
Till they allow you pennance for sufficient,
And your amendment; then you shall be freed,
And may set up again.

_Pach. Mendoza_, come,
Our souls have trode awry in all mens sight,
We'll underlay 'em, till they go upright. [_Exe._ Pach. _and_ Mend.

_Assist. Smith_, in those shackles you for your hard heart
Must lie by th' heels a year.

_Met._ I have shod your horse, my Lord. [_Exit._

_Assist._ Away: for you, my hungry white-loaf'd face,
You must to th' Gallies, where you shall be sure
To have no more bits, than you shall have blows.

_Laz._ Well, though herrings want, I shall have rowes.

_Assist._ Signior, you have prevented us, and punish'd
Your selfe severelier than we would have done.
You have married a whore: may she prove honest.

_Pio._ 'Tis better, my Lord, than to marry an honest woman,
That may prove a whore.

_Vit._ 'Tis a hansome wench: and thou canst keep her tame
I'll send you what I promis'd.

_Pio._ Joy to your Lordships.

_Alv._ He[re] may all Ladies learn, to make of foes
The perfect'st friends: and not the perfect'st foes
Of dearest friends, as some do now a daies.

_Vit._ Behold the power of love, to nature lost
By custome irrecoverably, past the hope
Of friends restoring, Love hath here retriv'd
To her own habit, made her blush to see
Her so long monstrous Metamorphoses,
May strange affairs never have worse success. [_Exeunt._

EPILOGUE.

_Our Author fears there are some Rebel hearts,_
_Whose dulness doth oppose loves piercing darts;_
_Such will be apt to say there wanted wit,_
_The language low, very few Scænes are writ_
_With spirit and life; such odd things as these_
_He cares not for, nor ever means to please;_
_For if your selves a Mistriss or loves friends,_
_Are lik'd with this smooth Play he hath his ends._

FINIS.

WOMEN PLEAS'D

A

TRAGEDY-COMEDY.

The Persons Represented in the Play.

Duke of _Siena, Suitor to_ Belvidere.
Silvio, _A Gentleman of quality, servant to_ Belvidere.
Claudio, Silvio's _friend, brother to_ Isabella.
Bartello, _Captain of the Citadel, Uncle to_ Silvio.
Lopez, _A sordid Usurer, the jealous Husband of_ Isabella.
Lords _of_ Florence.
Lords _of_ Siena.
Counsellors.
Courtiers.
Penurio, _A hungry servant to_ Lopez.
Soto, _A merry servant to_ Claudio.
A Farmer, _Father to_ Soto.
Captain.
Soldiers _of the Guard_.
A Clarke.
Bomby, _An enemy to Watches and May-poles._
Morris-dancers.
Masquers.

WOMEN.

Dutchess _of_ Florence.
Belvidere, _A virtuous Princess, daughter to the Dutchess in
love with_ Silvio.
Rodope, _wife to_ Bartello.
Isabella, _Wife to_ Lopez, _and Sister to_ Claudio.
Jaquenet, _servant to_ Isabella.
Two Gentlewomen.

The Scene Florence.

The principal Actors were

_Joseph Taylor_,
_John Underwood_,
_Rob. Benfield_,
_Rich. Sharpe_,
_John Lowin_,
_Will. Eglestone_,
_Nicholas Toolie_,
_Thomas Holcombe_.

_Actus Primus. Scæna Prima._

_Enter_ Bartello _and_ Silvio.

_Sil._ Tis true she is a right good Princess, and a just one,
And _Florence_ when she sets, has lost a Planet.

_Bar._ My Mistriss? I tell thee gentle Nephew,
There is not such another friend to goodness,
To down-right dealing, to faith and true heart
Within the Christian confines: Before she blest us,
Justice was a Cheese-monger, a meer Cheese-monger,
Weigh'd nothing to the world but Mites and Maggots,
And a main stink: Law like a Horse-courser,
Her rules, and precepts hung with gawdes and ribbonds
And pamper'd up to cousen him that bought her,
When she her self was hackney, lame, and founder'd.

_Sil._ But the sweet Lady,
_Belvidere_ the bright one--

_Bar._ I, there's a face indeed: Oh my dear Nephew,
Could a young fellow of thy fiery mettle
Freeze, and that Lady in his Arms?

_Sil._ I think not.

_Bar._ Thou hast a parlous judgement; but let that pass,
She is as truly virtuous, fair, and noble,
As her great Mother's good: and that's not ordinary.

_Sil._ But why (so many Princes, and so great ones
Being Suitors) should the Dutchess deny to match her?

_Bar._ She is a Jewel man, hangs in her bosom,
Her only Child: with her eies she sees all things,
Discourses with her tongue, and pluck her from her
(So dotingly the old one loves her young one)
You pluck her heart out too: Besides, of late daies,
The Duke of _Milan_, who could never win her
By Love, nor Treaty, laid a close train for her
In her own private Walks: some forty Horse-men,
So to surprize her; which we found, and dealt with,
And sent 'em running home to the Duke their Master,
Like Dogs with bottles at their tails.

_Sil._ Since that, I heard Sir,
She has sent her to your Cittadel to secure her,
My cosin _Rodope_, your wife attending her.

_Bar._ You hear a truth, and all convenient pleasures
Are there proportion'd for her.

_Sil._ I would fain, Sir,
Like one that owes a dutious service to her
Sometimes so please you--

_Bar._ Gentle Cosin pardon me,
I must not, nor you must not dare to offer,
The last Edict lies on his life pursues it;
Your friend, Sir, to command, abroad to love you
To lend ye any thing I have, to wait upon ye,
But in the Cittadel where I stand charg'd,
Not a bit upon a march: no service, Sir,
No, good Sir by no means: I kiss your hands, Sir. [_Exit._

_Sil._ To your keeping only? none else to look upon her?
None but _Bartello_ worthy her attendance?
No faith but his to serve her? Oh _Belvidere_,
Thou Saint to whom my youth is sacrific'd,
Thou point to which my life turns, and my fortune,
Art thou lock'd from me now? from all my comforts,
Art thou snatch'd violently? thou hear'st me not,
Nor canst thou see (fair soul) thy servants mournings,
Yet let thy gentle heart feel what his absence,
The great divorse of minds so truly loving,
So long, and nurs'd in one affection
Even from our infant eyes, suck'd in and nourish'd:
Oh let it feel but that, and there stand constant
And I am blest. My dear Aunt _Rodope_,
That is her Governess, did love me dearly,
There's one hope yet to see her: when he is absent
It may be ventur'd, and she may work it closely:
I know the Ladies will goe equal with me,
And so the danger of the Edict avoided;
Let me think more, for I must try all hazards.

_Enter_ Claudio _and_ Soto.

_Soto._ Will ye go yonder, Sir?

_Cla._ Yes marry will I Sir.

_Soto._ And by this Ladder?

_Cla._ By that Ladder, coxcombe.

_Soto._ Have ye any more necks at home when this is broken,
For this will crack with the best friend he has Sir?
Or can you pitch of all four, like an Ape now?
Let me see you tumble.

_Cla._ You are very pleasant Sir.

_Soto._ No truly Sir, I should be loath to see ye
Come fluttering down like a young Rook, cry squab,
And take ye up with your brains beaten into your buttocks.

_Cla._ Hold your peace Asse: who's this stands musing here?
_Sylvio?_

_Sil._ Who calls me?

_Cla._ One most glad to see you Sir.

_Sil._ My dearest _Claudio_? what make you thus private,
And with a preparation of this nature?

_Soto._ We have leave to play, and are going to climb Birds nests.

_Sil._ Prethee what is it friend? why start ye from me?
Is your old Mistriss grown so coy and cruel,
She must be scal'd? it seems you are loath to tell me,
Since twenty years continuance of our friendship
May not be worth the weight of such a secret,
'Twill be but rude to aske again: save ye.

_Cla._ Nay stay, dear _Silvio_, if you love me take it:
For till you know it, never woman labour'd
As I do now.

_Sil._ I'll doe my best to ease it.

_Cla._ You have heard the Lady _Belvidere_--

_Sil._ What heard Sir?

_Cla._ Heard to the Cittadel, upon some fears
She is confin'd.

_Sil._ Why dreams he on this beauty?
'Tis true, I have heard it.

_Cla._ And that no access,
No blessing from those eyes, but with much hazard,
Even hazard of a life.

_Sil._ He dares not love her;
I have heard that too: but whither points your purpose?

_Cla._ Oh _Silvio_, let me speak that none may hear me,
None but thy truth: I have lov'd this Lady long,
Long given away my life to her devotion,
Long dwelt upon that beauty to my ruine.

_Sil._ Do's she know this?

_Cla._ No, there begins my misery,
_Ixion_-like, I have only yet clasp'd clouds,
And fed upon poor empty dreams that starve me.

_Sil._ And what do you mean to do now?

_Cla._ Though I dye for't.
Though all the tortures in the world hung on me,
Arm'd with imperious Love, I stand prepar'd now,
With this to reach her Chamber: there to see her,
And tell her boldly with what truth I love her.

_Sil._ 'Twill not be easily done Sir.

_Cla._ Oh my _Silvio_,
The hardest things are sweetest in possession.

_Sil._ Nor will shew much discretion.

_Cla._ Love is blind man,
And he that looks for reason there far blinder.

_Sil._ Have ye consider'd ripely?

_Cla._ All that may fall,
And arm'd against that all.

_Sil._ Her honor too?
What she may suffer in this rash adventure
The beauty of her name?

_Cla._ I'll doe it closely,
And only at her window, with that caution--

_Sil._ Are there no Guards?

_Cla._ Corruption chokes their service.

_Sil._ Or do you hold her bred so light a woman
To hold commerce with strange tongues?

_Cla._ Why this service,
This only hazard of my life must tell her,
Though she were _Vestas_ self, I must deserve her.

_Sil._ I would not have ye go: pray let it sink here,
And think a nobler way to raise your service,
A safer and a wiser.

_Cla._ 'Tis too late, Sir.

_Sil._ Then I must say, You shall not goe.

_Cla._ I shall not?

_Sil._ You shall not go: that part bred with ye, friendship
Bids me say boldly so, and you observe me.

_Cla._ You stretch that tye too far.

_Sil._ I'll stretch it farther:
The honor that I bear that spotless virtue
You fouly seek to taint, unnobly covet,
Bids me command ye stay: if not, thus force ye.

_Soto._ This will be worse than climbing.

_Cla._ Why do ye draw Sir?

_Sil._ To kill thee, if thy base will be thy Master.

_Cla._ I ever was your friend.

_Sil._ Whilst thou wert honest,
And not a Night-thief of anothers honor;
I never call'd a fool my friend, a mad man,
That durst expose his fame to all opinions,
His life to unhonest dangers: I never lov'd him,
Durst know his name, that sought a Virgins ruine,
Nor ever took I pleasure in acquaintance
With men, that give as loose rains to their fancies
As the wild Ocean to his raging fluxes:
A noble soul I twin with, and my love
Followes his life, dares master his affections.
Will ye give off, or fight?

_Cla._ I will not fight with ye:
The sacred name of friend ties up that anger,
Rather I'll study.

_Sil._ Do, to be a friend still.

_Cla._ If this way, I shall never hold.

_Sil._ I'll watch ye:
And if I catch ye false: by heaven ye dye for't,
All love forgot.

_Cla._ When I fear that, I am fit for't. [_Exeunt._

_Scæna Secunda._

_Enter_ Lopez _at a Table with Jewels and Money upon_
_it, an Egg roasting by a Candle_.

_Lop._ Whilst prodigal young gaudy fools are banqueting,
And launching out their states to catch the giddy,
Thus do I study to preserve my fortune,
And hatch with care at home the wealth that Saints me.
Here's Rubies of _Bengala,_ rich, rich, glorious;
These Diamonds of _Ormus_ bought for little,
Here vented at the price of Princes Ransomes;
How bright they shine like constellations,
The South Seas treasure here, Pearl, fair and orient
Able to equal _Cleopatra's_ Banquet:
Here chains of lesser stones for Ladies lusters,
Ingotts of Gold, Rings, Brooches, bars of Silver,
These are my studies to set off in sale well,
And not in sensual surfeits to consume 'em;
How rosts mine egg; he heats apace, I'll turn him:
_Penurio_, where you knave do you wait? _Penurio_,
You lazie knave.

_Pen._ Did you call Sir?

_Lop._ Where's your Mistriss?
What vanity holds her from her attendance?

_Pen._ The very sight of this egg has made him cockish,
What would a dozen butter'd do? She is within Sir.

_Lop._ Within Sir, at what thrif[t] ye knave? what getting?

_Pen._ Getting a good stomach Sir, and she knew where to get
meat to it,
She is praying heartily upon her knees Sir,
That Heaven would send her a good bearing dinner.

_Lop._ Nothing but gluttony and surfeit thought on,
Health flung behind: had she not yesternight sirrah
Two Sprats to supper, and the oil allowable?
Was she not sick with eating? Hadst not thou,
(Thou most ungrateful knave, that nothing satisfies)
The water that I boil'd my other egg in
To make thee hearty broth?

_Pen._ 'Tis true, I had Sir;
But I might as soon make the Philosophers Stone on't,
You gave it me in water, and but for manners sake,
I could give it you again, in wind, it was so hearty
I shall turn pissing-Conduit shortly: my Mistriss comes, Sir.

_Enter_ Isabella.

_Lop._ Welcome my Dove.

_Isab._ Pray ye keep your welcome to ye,
Unless it carries more than words to please me,
Is this the joy to be a Wife? to bring with me,
Besides the nobleness of blood I spring from,
A full and able portion to maintain me?
Is this the happiness of youth and beauty,
The great content of being made a Mistriss,
To live a Slave subject to wants and hungers,
To jealousies for every eye that wanders?
Unmanly jealousie.

_Lop._ Good _Isabella_.

_Isab._ Too good for you: do you think to famish me,
Or keep me like an Alms-woman in such rayment,
Such poor unhandsome weeds? am I old, or ugly?
I never was bred thus: and if your misery
Will suffer wilful blindness to abuse me,
My patience shall be no Bawd to mine own ruine.

_Pen._ Tickle him Mistris: to him.

_Isab._ Had ye love in ye,
Or any part of man--

_Pen._ Follow that Mistriss.

_Isab._ Or had humanity but ever known ye,
You would shame to use a woman of my way thus,
So poor, and basely; you are strangely jealous of me
If I should give ye cause.

_Lop._ How _Isabella_?

_Isab._ As do not venture this way to provoke me.

_Pen._ Excellent well Mistriss.

_Lop._ How's this _Isabella_?

_Isab._ 'Twill stir a Saint, and I am but a woman,
And by that tenure may--

_Lop._ By no means chicken,
You know I love ye: fie, take no example
By those young gadding Dames: (you are noted virtuous)
That stick their Husbands wealth in trifles on 'em
And point 'em but the way to their own miseries:
I am not jealous, kiss me, ---- I am not:
And for your Diet, 'tis to keep you healthful,
Surfeits destroy more than the sword: that I am careful
Your meat should be both neat, and cleanly handled
See, Sweet, I am Cook my self, and mine own Cater.

_Pen._ A ---- of that Cook cannot lick his fingers.

_Lop._ I'll add another dish: you shall have Milk to it,
'Tis nourishing and good.

_Pen._ With Butter in't Sir?

_Lop._ This knave would breed a famine in a Kingdom:
And cloths that shall content ye: you must be wise then,
And live sequestred to your self and me,
Not wandring after every toy comes cross ye,
Nor struck with every spleen: what's the knave doing? _Penurio._

_Pen._ Hunting Sir, for a second course of Flies here,
They are rare new Sallads.

_Lop._ For certain _Isabella_
This ravening fellow has a Wolf in's [belly]:
Untemperate knave, will nothing quench thy appetite?
I saw him eat two Apples, which is monstrous.

_Pen._ If you had given me those 't had been more monstrous.

_Lop._ 'Tis a main miracle to feed this villain,
Come _Isabella_, let us in to supper,
And think the _Roman_ dainties at our Table,
'Tis all but thought. [_Exeunt._

_Pen._ Would all my thoughts would do it:
The Devil should think of purchasing that Egg-shell,
To victual out a Witch for the _Burmoothes_:
'Tis Treason to any good stomach living now
To hear a tedious Grace said, and no meat to't,
I have a Radish yet, but that's but transitory. [_Exit._

_Scæna Tertia._

_Enter_ Soto.

_Soto._ Can any living man, unless a Rascal
That neither knows himself, nor a fashion'd Gentleman
Take me for a worse man than my Master now?
I am naturally proud in these clothes: but if pride now
Should catch a fall in what I am attempting,
'Tis but a Proverb sound, and a neck broken,
That's the worst can come on't, a Gentleman's gone then,
A Gentleman o'th' first house, there's the end on't:
My Master lies most pittifully complaining,
Wringing and kicking up to th' ears in love yonder,
And such a lamentable noise he keeps, it kills me:
I have got his cloaths, and if I can get to her
By hook or crook here, such a song I'll sing her--
I think I shall be hang'd, but that's no matter,
What's a hanging among friends: I am valiant now as an Elephant,
I have consider'd what to say too: let me see now,
This is the place, 'tis plaguy high: stay at that lower window
Let me aim finely now, like a good Gunner,
It may prove but a whipping.

_Enter_ Silvio.

_Sil._ I saw some body
Pass by me now, and though it were dark, me-thought yet
I knew the clothes: ha, let me not be cozen'd,
The Ladder too, ready to fling it? monstrous,
'Tis he, 'tis _Claudio_: most voluptuous villain,
Scandal to womans credit: Love, I forget thee.

_Soto._ What will he do i'th' name of Heaven, what's that there?

_Sil._ And all the friendship that I bore thee, bury here.

_Soto._ What has he in's hand? I hope but a Cudgel.

_Sil._ Thy faul'ts forgive O Heaven: farewel thou traitor.

_Soto._ I am slain: I am slain.

_Sil._ He's down, and dead: dead certain,
'Twas too rash, too full of spleen, stark dead:
This is no place now to repent in, only
Would I had given this hand that shot the Pistol
I had miss'd thee, and thou wer't once more _Claudio_. [_Exit._

_Enter_ Claudio.

_Cla._ Why should I love thus foolishly? thus desperately?
And give away my heart where no hope's left me?
Why should not the true counsel of a friend restrain me?
The Devils mouth I run into affright me,
The honor of the Lady, charm my wildness;
I have no power, no Being of my self,
No reason strong enough now left within me
To bind my Will: Oh Love, thou god, or devil,
Or what thou art, that playes the tyrant in me.

_Soto._ Oh.

_Cla._ What's that cry?

_Soto._ A Surgeon, a Surgeon,
Twenty good Surgeons.

_Cla._ 'Tis not far from me,
Some murther o' my life.

_Soto._ Will you let me dye here?
No drink come, nor no Surgeon?

_Cla._ 'Tis my man sure,
His voice, and here he lies: how is it with thee?

_Soto._ I am slain, Sir, I am slain.

_Cla._ Slain? Who has slain thee?

_Soto._ Kill'd, kill'd, out-right kill'd.

_Cla._ Where's thy hurt?

_Soto._ I know not,
But I am sure I am kill'd.

_Cla._ Canst thou sit up,
That I may find the hurt out?

_Soto._ I can sit up,
But ne'er the less I am slain.

_Cla._ 'Tis not o' this side?

_Soto._ No Sir, I think it be not.

_Cla._ Nor o' this side,
Was it done with a sword?

_Soto._ A Gun, a Gun, sweet Master.

_Cla._ The devil a bullet has been here: thou art well man.

_Soto._ No sure I am kill'd.

_Cla._ Let me see thy thighs, and belly,
As whole as a fish for any thing I see yet:
Thou bleed'st no where.

_Soto._ I think I do not bleed, Sir,
But yet I am afraid I am slain.

_Cla._ Stand up fool,
Thou hast as much hurt as my nail; who shot thee,
A Pottle, or a Pint?

_Soto._ Signior _Silvio_ shot me
In these clothes; taking me for you, and seeing
The Ladder in my hand here, which I stole from ye,
Thinking to have gone to the Lady my self, and have spoke for ye.

_Cla._ If he had hit ye home, he had serv'd ye right sirrah,
You saucy rogue, how poor my intent shews to me,
How naked now, and foolish!

_Soto._ Are ye sure he has not hit me,
It gave a monstrous bounce?

_Cla._ You rose o' your right side,
And said your prayers too, you had been payed else:
But what need'st thou a Bullet, when thy fear kills thee?
Sirrah, keep your own counsel for all this, you'll be hang'd else,
If it be known.

_Soto._ If it be by my means, let me;
I am glad I am not kill'd, and far more gladder
My Gentleman-like humor's out: I feel 'tis dangerous,
And to be a gentleman, is to be kill'd twice a week.

_Cla._ Keep your self close i'th' Countrey for a while sirrah.
There's Money, walk to your friends.

_Soto._ They have no Pistols,
Nor are no Gentlemen, that's my comfort. [_Exit._

_Cla._ I will retire too, and live private; for this _Silvio_,
Inflam'd with nobleness, will be my death else;
And if I can forget this love that loads me,
At least the danger: and now I think on't better,
I have some conclusions else invites me to it. [_Exit._

_Actus Secundus. Scæna Prima._

_Enter_ Rodope, _and_ Silvio _at several doors_.

_Rod._ Nephew.

_Sil._ My dear Aunt.

_Rod._ Would you go by thus slily,
And never see me, not once send in to me
Your loving Aunt? she that above all those
I call my kindred, honour'd you, and placed you
Nearest my heart?

_Sil._ I thank you worthy Aunt
But such at this time are my occasions--

_Rod._ You shall not goe yet, by my faith you shall not,
I will not be deny'd: why look ye sad Nephew?

_Sil._ I am seldom other: Oh, this blood sits heavy:
As I walk'd this way late last night,
In meditation of some things concern'd me--

_Rod._ What Nephew?

_Sil._ Why methought I heard a Piece, Lady,
A Piece shot off, much about this place too,
But could not judge the cause, nor what it boaded,
Under the Castle-wall.

_Rod._ We heard it too,
And the Watch pursu'd it presently, but found nothing,
Not any tract.

_Sil._ I am right glad to hear it:
The Ruffians surely that command the night
Have found him, stript him: and into the River
Convey'd the body.

_Rod._ You look still sadder, Nephew,
Is any thing within these walls to comfort ye?
Speak, and be Master of it.