Chapter VII: Part 7

_Cesar._ Thus long
I have stood silent, and with no unwillingness,
Attended the relation of my fall,
From a fair expectation; what I fear'd
(Since the first syllable this Lady utter'd
Of my not being hers) benevolent Fates
Have eas'd me off; for to be basely born,
If not base-born, detracts not from the bounty
Of natures freedom, or an honest birth.
Nobility claim'd by the right of blood,
Shewes chiefly, that our Ancestors desir'd
What we inherit; but that Man whose actions
Purchase a real merit to himself,
And rancks him in the file of praise and honor,
Creates his own advancement; let me want
The fuel which best feeds the fires of greatness,
Lordly possessions, yet shall still my gratitude
By some attempts, of mention not unworthy,
Endeavour to return a fit acquittance
To that large debt I owe your favours (Madam)
And great _Alberto's_ memory and goodness;
O that I could as gently shake off passion
For the loss of that great brave Man, as I can shake off
Remembra[n]ce of that once I was reputed;
I have not much to say, this Princely presence
Needs not too strictly to examine farther
The truth of this acknowledgment; a Mother
Dares never disavow her only son,
And any woman must come short of Piety,
That can, or dis-inherit her own issue,
Or fears the voice of rumor for a stranger.
Madam, you have confest, my Father was
A servant to your Lord and you: by interest
Of being his son, I cannot but claim justly
The honor of continuing still my service
To you and yours; which granted, I beg leave
I may for this time be dismist.

_Duke._ Bold spirit.

_Bap._ I love thee now with pitty.

_Duke._ Go not yet--
A sudden tempest that might shake a rock,
Yet he stands firm against it; much it moves me,
He, not _Alberto's_ son, and she a Widdow,
And she a Widdow,--Lords your ear.

_Omnes._ Your pleasure.-- [_Whispers._

_Duke._ So, Lady, what you have avouch'd is truth.

_Mari._ Truth only, gracious Sir.

_Duke._ Hear then our Sentence.
Since from his cradle you have fed and foster'd
_Cæsario_ as your Son, and train'd him up
To hopes of greatness; which now in a moment
You utterly again have ruin'd, this way
We with our Counsel are resolv'd, you being
A Widdow, shall accept him for a husband.

_Maria._ Husband to me, Sir?

_Duke._ 'Tis in us to raise him
To honors, and his vertues will deserve 'em.

_Maria._ But Sir, 'tis in no Prince, nor his Prerogative,
To force a Womans choice against her heart.

_Duke._ True, if then you appeale to higher Justice,
Our Doom includes this clause upon refusal,
Out of your Lords revenues shall _Cæsario_
Assure to any, whom he takes for Wife,
The inheritance of three parts; the less remainer
Is dowry large enough to marry a daughter;
And we, by our Prerogative, which you question,
Will publickly adopt him into th'name
Of your deceas'd _Alberto_, that the memory
Of so approv'd a Peer may live in him
That can preserve his memory; 'less you find out
Some other means, which may as amply satisfie
His wrong, our Sentence stands irrevocable:
What think you Lords?

_Omnes._ The Duke is just and honorable.

_Bap._ Let me embrace _Cæsario_, henceforth ever
I vow a constant friendship.

_Mentivole._ I remit all former difference.

_Cesar._ I am too poor
In words to thank this Justice. _Madam_, alwayes
My studies shall be love to you, and duty.

_Duke._ Replies we admit none. _Cæsario_ wait on us.

[_Exeunt. Manent, Mentivole, Bap. Mari. Claris._

_Bap. Mentivole._

_Menti._ My Lord.

_Bap._ Look on _Clarissa_, she's noble, rich, young, fair.

_Mentivole._ My Lord, and virtuous.

_Bap. Mentivole_ and virtuous.--_Madam._

_Maria._ Tyranny of Justice, I shall live reports derision,
That am compell'd to exchange a graceful Widdowhood
For a continual Martyrdome in Marriage,
With one so much beneath me.

_Bap._ I'll plead for ye
Boldly and constantly, let your daughter only
Admit my son her servant, at next visit,
_Madam_, I'll be a messenger of comfort.
_Mentivole_, be confident and earnest. [_Exit._

_Maria._ Married again, to him too! better 'thad been
The young Man should have still retain'd the honors
Of old _Alberto's_ son, than I the shame
Of making him successor of his bed; I was too blame.

_Ment._ Indeed without offence,
Madam I think you were.

_Claris._ You urge it fairly, and like a worthy friend.

_Maria._ Can you say any thing
In commendation of a Mushroom withered
Assoon as started up?

_Ment._ You scorn an Innocent
Of noble growth, for whiles your husband liv'd
I have heard you boast _Cesario_ in all actions
Gave matter of report of Imitation,
Wonder and envy; let not discontinuance
Of some few days estrange a sweet opinion
Of virtue, ch[ie]fly when, in such extremity,
Your pitty not contempt will argue goodness.

_Maria._ O Sir.

_Cla._ If you would use a thriving courtship,
You cannot utter a more powerfull language
That I shall listen to with greater greediness
Than th'argument you prosecute; this speaks you
A man compleat and excellent.

_Ment._ I speak not, they are his own deserts.

_Maria._ Good Sir forbear,
I am now fully sensible of running
Into a violent Lethargy, whose deadliness
Locks up all reason, I shall never henceforth
Remember my past happiness.

_Ment._ These clouds may be disperst.

_Maria._ I fear continuall night
Will over-shroud me, yet poor youth his trespass
Lies in his fortune, not the cruelty
Of the Duke's sentence.

_Cla._ I dare think it does.

_Maria._ If all fail I will learn thee to conquer
Adversity with sufferance.

_Ment._ You resolve Nobly. [_Exeunt._

_Actus Quartus. Scæna Prima._

_Enter Cesario and a Servant._

_Cesar._ Let any friend have entrance.

_Servant._ Sir a'shall.

_Cesar._ Any, I except none.

_Serv._ We know, your mind Sir. [--_Exit._

_Cesar._ Pleasures admit no bounds.
I am pitcht so high
To such a growth of full prosperities
That to conceal my fortunes were an injury
To gratefulness, and those more liberall favours
By whom my glories prosper. He that flowes
In gracious and swolne tydes of best abundance,
Yet will be Ignorant of his own fortunes,
Deserves to live contemn'd, and dye forgotten;
The harvest of my hopes is now already
Ripen'd and gather'd, I can fatten youth
With choice of plenty, and supplies of comforts,
My fate springs in my own hand, and I'll use it.

_Enter 2 Servants and Biancha._

_1_ 'Tis my place.

_2_ Yours? here fair one, I'll aquaint my Lord.

_1_ He's here, go to him boldly.

_2_ Please you to let him understand how readily
I waited on your errand?

_1_ Saucy fellow, you must excuse his breeding.

_Cesar._ What's the matter?
_Biancha_, my _Biancha_, to your offices. [_Exit Ser._
This visit (Sweet) from thee (my pretty dear)
By how much more 'twas unexpected, comes
So much the more timely: witness this free welcome,
What ere occasion led thee.

_Bian._ You must guess Sir,
Yet indeed 'tis a rare one.

_Ces._ Prethee speak it, my honest virtuous maid.

_Bian._ Sir I have heard
Of your misfortunes, and I cannot tell you
Whether I have more cause of joy or sadness,
To know they are a truth.

_Ces._ What truth _Biancha_? misfortunes, how, wherein?

_Bian._ You are disclaym'd
For being the Lord _Alberto's_ Son, and publickly
Acknowledg'd of as mean a birth as mine is,
It cannot chuse but greive ye.

_Ces._ Greive me? Ha ha ha ha? Is this all?

_Bian._ This all?

_Ces._ Thou art sorry for't
I warrant thee: alas good soul, _Biancha_,
That which thou call'st misfortune is my happiness,
My happiness _Biancha_.

_Bian._ If you love me, it may prove mine too.

_Ces._ May it? I will love thee.
My good, good maid,
If that can make thee happy,
Better and better love thee.

_Bian._ Without breach then
Of modesty I come to claime the Interest
Your protestations, both by vows and letters,
Have made me owner of: from the first hour
I saw you, I confess I wisht I had been
Or not so much below your rank and greatness,
Or not so much above those humble flames
That should have warm'd my bosome with a temperate
Equality of desires in equal fortunes.
Still as you utter'd Language of affection,
I courted time to pass more slowly on
That I might turn more fool to lend attention
To what I durst not credit, nor yet hope for:
Yet still as more I heard, I wisht to hear more.

_Ces._ Didst thou introth wench?

_Bian._ Willingly betraid
My self to hopeless bondage.

_Ces._ A good girl,
I thought I should not miss
What ere thy answer was.

_Biancha._ But as I am a maid Sir, and I'faith
You may believe me, for I am a maid,
So dearly I respected both your fame
And quality, that I would first have perisht
In my sick thoughts than ere have given consent
To have undone your fortunes by inviting
A marriage with so mean an one as I am.
I should have dyed sure, and no creature known
The sickness that had kill'd me.

_Ces._ Pretty heart, good Soul, alas, alas.

_Bian._ Now since I know
There is no difference 'twixt your birth and mine,
Not much 'twixt our estates, if any be,
The advantage is on my side, I come willingly
To tender you the first fruits of my heart,
And am content t'accept you for my husband,
Now when you are at lowest.

_Ces._ For a husband?
Speak sadly, dost thou mean so?

_Bian._ In good deed Sir,
'Tis pure love makes this proffer.

_Ces._ I believe thee,
What counsail urg'd thee on, tell me, thy Father
My worshipfull smug Host? wast not he wench?
Or mother Hostess? ha?

_Bian._ D'ee mock my parentage?
I doe not scorn yours.
Mean folks are as worthy
To be well spoken of if they deserve well,
As some whose onely fame lies in their blood,
O y'are a proud poor man: all your oaths falshood,
Your vows deceit, your letters forg'd, and wicked.

_Ces._ Thou'dst be my wife, I dare swear.

_Bian._ Had your heart,
Your hand and tongue been twins, you had reputed
This courtesy a benefit.

_Ces._ Simplicity,
How prettily thou mov'st me! why _Biancha_,
Report has coz'ned thee, I am not fallen
From my expected honors, or possessions,
Though from the hope of birthright.

_Bian._ Are you not?
Then I am lost again, I have a suit too;
You'll grant it if you be a good man.

_Ces._ Any thing.

_Bian._ Pray doe not talk of ought what I have said t'ee.

_Ces._ As I wish health I will not.

_Bian._ Pitty me, but never love me more.

_Ces._ Nay now y'are cruell,
Why all these tears?--Thou shalt not go.

_Bian._ I'll pray for ye
That you may have a virtuous wife, a fair one,
And when I am dead--

_Ces._ Fy, fy.

_Bian._ Think on me sometimes,
With mercy for this trespass.

_Ces._ Let us kiss
At parting as at coming.

_Bian._ This I have
As a free dower to a virgins grave,
All goodness dwell with ye.-- [_Exit._

_Ces._ Harmeless _Biancha_! unskill'd;
What hansome toyes are maids to play with!

_Enter Mariana and Clarissa._

How innocent! But I have other thoughts
Of nobler meditation.--my felicity,
Thou commest as I could wish, lend me a lip
Soft as melting as when old _Alberto_
After his first nights triall taking farewell
Of thy youth's conquest tasted.

_Maria._ You are uncivill.

_Ces._ I will be Lord of my own pleasures, Madam
Y'are mine, mine freely,
Come, no whimpering henceforth
New con the lessons of loves best experience,
That our delights may meet in equal measure
Of resolutions and desires; this sulleness
Is scurvy, I like it not.

_Mar._ Be modest.
And do not learn _Cesario_ how to prostitute
The riot of thy hopes to common folly;
Take a sad womans word, how ere thou doat'st
Upon the present graces of thy greatnes.
Yea I am not falen so below my constancy
To virtue, nor the care which I once tend'red
For thy behoof that I prefer a sentence
Of cruelty before my honor.

_Ces._ Honor!

_Maria._ Hear me, thou seest this girl! now the comfort
Of my last days. She is the onely pledge
Of a bed truely noble: shee had a father
(I need not speak him more than thou remembrest)
Whom to dishonor by a meaner choice,
Were injury and infamy.

_Claris._ To goodnes,
To time and virtuous mention.

_Mar._ I have vow'd,
Observe me now _Cesario_, that how ere
I may be forc'd to marry, yet no tyranny,
Persuasions, flattery, guifts, intreats, or tortures,
Shall draw me to a second bed.

_Clar._ Tis just too.

_Maria._ Yes and 'tis just _Clarissa_. I allow
The Duke's late sentence, am resolv'd young man
To be thy wife, but when the ceremony
Of marriage is perform'd, in life I will be,
Though not in name, a widdow.

_Ces._ Pray a word t'ee,
Shall I in earnest never be your bedfellow?

_Maria._ Never, O never; and 'tis for your good too.

_Ces._ Prove that.

_Mar._ Alas too many years are numbred
In my account to entertain the benefit
Which youth in thee _Cesario_, and ability
Might hope for and require, it were Injustice
To rob a gentleman deserving memory
Of Issue to preserve it.

_Ces._ No more herein,
You are an excellent pattern of true piety,
Let me now turn your advocate. Pray look into
The order of the Duke. Injoyn'd, admit
I satisfie the sentence without mariage
With you, how then?

_Mar. Cesario._

_Ces._ If I know
How to acquit your fears, yet keep th'injunction
In every clause whole and entire, your charity
Will call me still your servant.

_Mar._ Still my son.

_Ces._ Right Madam, now you have it, still your son.
The _Genius_ of your blessings hath instructed
Your tongue oraculously, we will forget
How once I and _Clarissa_ enterchang'd
The tyes of brother and of sister, henceforth
New stile us man and wife.

_Cla._ By what authority?

_Ces._ Heavens great appointment, yet in all my dotage
On thy perfections, when I thought _Clarissa_
We had been pledges of one womb, no lose
No wanton heat of youth, desir'd to claime
Priority in thy affections, other
Than nature might commend. Chastly I tend'red
Thy welfare as a brother ought; but since
Our bloods are strangers, let our hearts contract
A long life-lasting unity, for this way
The sentence is to be observ'd or no way.

_Mar._ Then no way.

_Ces._ I expected other answer Madam from you.

_Mar._ No, every age shall curse me,
The monster, and the prodigie of nature,
Horrors beyond extremity.

_Cla._ Pray mother confine the violence of greif.

_Ces._ Yes mother, pray do.

_Mar._ Thus some catch at a matrons honor
By flying lust to plot Incestuous witchcrafts.
More terrible than whoredomes; cruell mercy!
When to preserve the body from a death
The soul is strangled.

_Ces._ This is more than passion,
It comes near to distraction.

_Mar._ I am quieted.
_Cesario_, thou mayest tell the Duke securely
_Alberto's_ titles, honors and revenues,
The Duke may give away, enjoy them thou.
_Clarissas_ birthright, _Marianas_ dower
Thou shalt be Lord of; turn us to the world
Unpittied and unfriended, yet my bed
Thou never sleep'st in; as for her; she hears me,
If she as much as in a thought consent;
That thou may'st call her wife, a Mothers curse
Shall never leave her.

_Clar._ As a brother once
I lov'd you, as a noble friend yet honor ye,
But for a husband sir, I dare not own you,
My faith is given already.

_Ces._ To a Villain, I'll cut his throat.

_Mar._ Why this is more than passion!
It comes near a distraction.

_Clar._ Call to mind Sir.
How much you have abated of that goodness
Which once reign'd in ye, they appear'd so lovely
That such as friendship led to observation

_Enter Baptista and Mentivole._

Courted the great example.

_Ces._ Left, and flatter'd into a broad derision?

_Mar._ Why d'ee think so?
My Lord _Baptista_, is your Son grown cold
In hasting on the marriage, which his vows
Have seal'd to my wrong'd daughter?

_Bap._ We come Lady, to consummate the contract.

_Ces._ With _Mentivole_? is he the man?

_Ment. Clarissas_, troth and mine,
_Cesario_, are recorded in a character
So plain and certain, that except the hand
Of heaven, which writ it first, would blot it out again,
No humane power can raze it.

_Ces._ But say you so too young Lady?

_Cla._ I should else betray
My heart to falshood, and my tongue to perjury.

_Ces._ Madam, you know the sentence.

_Bap._ From the Duke,
I have particular comforts which require
A private [e]are.

_Mar._ I shall approve it gladly
We are resolv'd _Cesario_.

_Bap._ Be not insolent upon a Princes favor.

_Cla._ Loose no glory,
Your younger years have purchast.

_Ment._ And deserved too, y'have many worthy freinds.

_Bap._ Preserve and use them. [_Exeunt. Manet Cesar._

_Ces._ Good, very good, why here's a complement
Of mirth in desperation, I could curse
My fate: O with what speed men tumble down
From hopes that soar too high. _Biancha_ now
May scorn me justly too, _Clarissa_ married,
_Alberto's_ widdow resolute, _Biancha_
Refus'd, and I forsaken: let me study,
I can but die a Batchelor that's the worst on't. [_Exit._

_Enter Host, Taylor, Muliter, Dancer, Pedant, Coxcombe._

_Host._ Come Gentlemen,
This is the day that our great artist hath
Promis'd to give all your severall suits satisfaction.

_Dancer._ Is he stirring?

_Host._ He hath been at his book these t[w]o hours.

_Pedant._ He's a rare Physitian.

_Host._ Why I'll tell you,
Were _Paracelsus_ the German now
Living, he'd take up his single rapier against his
Terrible long sword, he makes it a matter of nothing
To cure the gout, sore eyes he takes out as familiarly,
Washes them, and puts them in again,
As you'd blanch almonds.

_Tay._ They say he can make gold.

_Host._ I, I, he learnt it of Kelly in Germanny.
There's not a Chymist
In christendome can goe beyond him for multiplying.

_Pedant._ Take heed then;
He get not up your daughters belly my Host.

_Host._ You are a merry Gentleman
And the man of art will love you the better.

_Dancer._ Does he love mirth and crotchets?

_Host._ O he's the most courteous Physitian,
You may drink or drab in's company freely,
The better he knows how your disease grows,
The better he knows how to cure it.

_Danc._ But I wonder my Host
He has no more resort of Ladyes to him.

_Host._ Why Sir?

_Dan._ O divers of them have great beleif in conjurers:
Lechery is a great help to the quality.

_Host._ He's scarce known to be in town yet,
Ere long we shall have 'em come
Hurrying hither in Fetherbeds.

_Dan._ How? bedridden?

_Host._ No sir, in fetherbeds that move upon 4 wheels in
Spanish caroches.

_Ped._ Pray accquaint him we give attendance.

_Host._ I shall gentlemen; I would fain be rid
Of these rascalls, but that they raise profit
To my wine cellar.
When I have made use of them sufficiently,
I will intreat the conjurer to tye crackers to their tails,
And send them packing.

_Enter Forobosco as in his Study._ (A paper)

_Foro._ Come hither mine Host, look here.

_Host._ What's that?

_Foro._ A challenge from my man.

_Host._ For breaking's pate?

_Foro._ He writes here if I meet him not
I'th' Feild within this half hour,
I shall hear more from him.

_Host._ O sir, minde your profit,
Ne'er think of the rascall, here are the gentlemen.

_Foro._ 'Morrow my worthy clients,
What are you all prepar'd of your questions;
That I may give my resolution upon them?

_Omnes._ We are Sir.

_Pedant._ And have brought our mony.

_Foro._ Each then in order,
And differ not for precedency.

_Dan._ I am buying of an office Sir,
And to that purpose I would fain learn
To dissemble cunningly.

_Foro._ Doe you come to me for that? you should rather
Have gone to a cunning woman.

_Danc._ I sir but their Instructions are but like wom[e]n,
Pretty well but not to the depth, as I'd have it:
You are a conjurer, the devils Master,
And I would learn it from you so exactly.

_Foro._ That the devill himself
Might not go beyond you.

_Dane._ You are i'th' right Sir.

_Foro._ And so your mony for your purchase
Might come in again within a 12 month.

_Danc._ I would be a Graduate sir, no freshman.

_F[e]ro._ Here's my hand sir,
I will make you dissemble so methodically,
As if the divell should be sent from the great Turk,
In the shape of an Embassador
To set all the Christian princes at variance.

_Danc._ I cannot with any modesty desire any more.
There's your mony sir.

_Foro._ For the art of dissembling.

_Cox._ My suit sir will be news to you when I tell it.

_Foro._ Pray on.

_Cox._ I would set up a press here in Italy,
To write all the Corantos for Christendome.

_Foro._ That's news indeed,
And how would you imploy me in't?

_Cox._ Marry sir, from you
I would gain my intelligence.

_Foro._ I conceive you, you would have me furnish you
With a spirit to informe you.

_Cox._ But as quiet a Divell as the woman,
The first day and a half after she's married,
I can by no means indure a terrible one.

_Foro._ No, no, I'll qualifie him,
He shall not fright you,
It shall be the ghost of some lying Stationer,
A Spirit shall look as if butter would not melt in his
mouth. A new _Mercurius Gallo-belgicus_.

_Cox._ O there was a captain was rare at it.

_Foro._ Ne'er thinke of him,
Though that captain writ a full hand gallop,
And wasted indeed more harmeless paper than
Ever did laxative Physick,
Yet will I make you to out-scribble him,
And set down what you please,
The world shall better believe you.

_Cox._ Worthy sir I thank you, there's mony.

_Foro._ A new office
For writing pragmaticall Curranto's.

_Pedant._ I am a school-master sir,
And would fain conferre with you
About erecting 4 new sects of religion at _Amsterdam_.

_Foro._ What the Divell should
New sects of religion doe there?

_Pedant._ I assure you I would get
A great deal of money by it.

_Foro._ And what are the 4 new sects
Of religion you would plant there?

_Ped._ Why that's it I come about sir,
'Tis a Divel of your raising must invent 'em,
I confess I am too weak to compass it.

_Foro._ So sir, then you make it a matter of no difficulty
To have them tolerated.

_Pedant._ Trouble not your self for that,
Let but your Divel set them a foot once.
I have Weavers, and Ginger-bread makers,
And mighty _Aquavitæ-men_, shall set them a going.

_Foro._ This is somewhat difficult,
And will aske some conference with the divell.

_Ped._ Take your own leasure sir,
I have another business too, because I mean
To leave _Italy_, and bury my self in those neather parts
Of the low countries.

_Foro._ What's that sir.

_Ped._ Marry I would fain make 9 dayes to the week,
for the more ample benefit of the captain.

_Foro._ You have a shrewd pate sir.

_Ped._ But how this might be compass'd?

_Foro._ Compass'd easily; tis but making
A new Almanack, and dividing the compass
Of the year into larger penny-worths,
As a Chandler with his compass makes
A Geometrick proportion of the _Holland_ cheese
He retailes by stivers.
But for getting of it licenc'd?

_Ped._ Trouble not your self with that sir,
There's your mony.

_Foro._ For four new sects of religions,
And 9 dayes to the week.

_Ped._ To be brought in at general pay-dayes,
Write I beseech you.

_Foro._ At generall pay-dayes.

_Taylor._ I am by profession a Taylor,
You have heard of me.

_Foro._ Yes sir, and will not steal from you
The least part of that commendation I have heard utter'd.

_Taylor._ I take measure of your worth sir,
And because I will not afflict you with any large bill
Of circumstances, I will snip off particulars.
I would fain invent some strange
And exquisite new fashions.

_Foro._ Are you not travel'd sir.

_Tay._ Yes sir, but have observ'd all we can see
Or invent, are but old ones with new names to'em,
Now I would some way or other grow more curious.

_Foro._ Let me see; to devise new fashions--
Were you never in the Moon?

_Tay._ In the Moon tavern! yes sir, often.

_Foro._ No, I do mean in the new world,
In the world that's in the Moon yonder.

_Tay._ How? a new world 'ith' moon?

_Foro._ Yes I assure you.

_Tay._ And peopled?

_Foro._ O most fantastically peopled.

_Tay._ Nay certain then there's work for taylors?

_Foro._ That there is I assure you.

_Tay._ Yet I have talked with a Scotch taylor
That never discover'd so much to me,
Though he has travell'd far, and was a pedlar in _Poland_.

_Foro._ That was out of his way,
This lies beyond _China_:
You would study new fashions you say?
Take my councell, make a voyage,
And discover that new world.

_Tay._ Shall I be a moon-man?

_Foro._ I am of opinion, the people of that world
(If they be like the nature of that climate they live in)
Do vary the fashion of their cloaths oftener than any
Quick-silver'd nation in Europe.

_Tay._ Not unlikely, but what should that be we call
The man in the moon then?

_Foro._ Why 'tis nothing but an Englishman
That stands there stark naked,
With a pair of sheers in one hand,
And a great bundle of broad cloath in the other
(Which resembles the bush of thorns)
Cutting out of new fashions.

_Taylor._ I have heard somewhat like this,
But how shall I get thither?

_Foro._ I'll make a new compass shall direct you.

_Tay._ Certain?

_Foro._ Count me else for no man of direction.

_Tay._ There's 20 duckats in hand, at my return
I'll give you a 100.

_Foro._ A new voyage to discover new fashions.

_Mul._ I have been a traveller too sir,
That have shewed strange beasts in Christendome,
And got money by them, but I find the trade to decay.
Your Camelion, or East-Indian hedg-hog
Gets very little mony, and your Elephant devours
So much bread, brings in so little profit,
His keeper were better every morning
Cram 15 Taylors with white manchet:
I would have some new spectacle,
And one that might be more attractive.

_Foro._ Let me see, were you ever in _Spain_?

_Mule._ Not yet Sir.

_Foro._ I would have you go to _Madrill_, and against some
great festivall, when the court lies there, provide a great and
spacious Eng[li]sh Oxe, and rost him whole, with a pudding in's
bely; that would be the eighth wonder of the world in those
parts I assure you.

_Mule._ A rare project without question.

_Foro._ Goe beyond all their garlike _olle padridoes_, though
you sod one in _Garguentuas_ couldron, bring in more money,
then all the monsters of _Affrick_.

_Host._ Good Sir do your best for him; he's of my acquaintance,
and one if ye knew him--

_Foro._ What is he?

_Host._ He was once a man of infinite letters.

_Foro._ A Scholar?

_Host._ No sir, a packet carrier, which is alwaies a man of
many letters, you know: then he was Mule-driver, now he's a
gentleman, and feeds monsters.

_Foro._ A most ungratefull calling.

_Mule._ There's money for your direction; the price of the Oxe
Sir?

_Foro._ A hundred French crowns, for it must be a
_Lincolne_-shire Oxe, and a prime one: For a rare and monstrous
spectacle, to be seen at _Madrill_.

_Enter Clown, Hostess, and Bianca._

_Hostes._ Pray forbear sir, we shall have a new quarrell.

_Clow._ You durst not meet me 'ith field, I am therefore come
to spoyl your market.

_Foro._ What's the newes with you sir.

_Clow._ Gentlemen, you that come hither to be most abominably
cheated, listen, and be as wise as your planet will suffer you,
keep your mony, be not gul'd, be not laught at.

_Pedant._ What means this? would I had my mony again in my
pocket.

_Host._ The fellow is full of malice, do not mind him.

_Clow._ This profest cheating rogue was my master, and I
confess my self a more preternotorious rogue than himself, in
so long keeping his villainous counsell.

_Foro._ Come, come, I will not hear you.

_Clow._ No couz'ner, thou wouldest not hear me, I do but dare
thee to suffer me to speak, and then thou and all thy divells
spit fire, and spout _Aqua fortis_.

_Foro._ Speak on, I freely permit thee.

_Clow._ Why then know all you simple animals, you whose purses
are ready to cast the calf; if they have not cast it already,
if you give any credit to this jugling rascal, you are worse
than simple widgins, and will be drawn into the net by this
decoy duck, this tame cheater.

_Foro._ Ha, ha, ha, pray mark him.

_Clow._ He does profess Physicke, and counjuring; for his
Physick; he has but two medicines for all manner of diseases;
when he was i'th' low countryes, he us'd nothing but butter'd
beer, colour'd with Allegant, for all kind of maladies, and
that he called his catholick med'cine; sure the Dutch smelt out
it was butter'd beer, else they would never have endur'd it
for the names sake: then does he minister a grated Dogs turd
instead of Rubarb, many times of Unicornes horn, which working
strongly with the conceit of the Patient, would make them
bescummer to the height of a mighty purgation.

_Foro._ The rogue has studied this invective.

_Clow._ Now for his conjuring, the witches of _Lapland_ are the
divells chare-women to him, for they will sell a man a wind to
some purpose; he sells wind, and tells you fortie lyes over and
over.

_Hostess._ I thought what we should find of him.

_Host._ Hold your prating, be not you an heretick.

_Clow._ Conjure! I'll tell you, all the divells names he calls
upon are but fustion names, gather'd out of welch heraldry; in
breif, he is a rogue of six reprieves, four pardons of course,
thrice pilloried, twice sung _Lacrymæ_ to the Virginalls of a
carts tail, h'as five times been in the _Gallies_, and will
never truely run himself out of breath, till he comes to the
gallowes.

_Foro._ You have heard worthy gentlemen, what this lying,
detracting rascall has vomited.

_Tay._ Yes certain, but we have a better trust in you, for you
have ta'en our money.

_Foro._ I have so, truth is he was my servant, and for some
chastisement I gave him, he does practise thus upon me; speak
truely sirra, are you certain I cannot conjure?

_Clow._ Conjure! ha, ha, ha.

_Foro._ Nay, nay, but be very sure of it.

_Clow._ Sure of it? why I'll make a bargain with thee, before
all these gentlemen, use all thy art, all thy roguery, and make
me do any thing before al this company I have not a mind to,
I'll first give thee leave to claime me for thy bond slave, and
when thou hast done hang me.

_Foro._ 'Tis a match, sirra, I'll make you caper i'th' air
presently.

_Clow._ I have too solid a body, and my belief is like a
Puritans on Good-Friday, too high fed with capon.

_Foro._ I will first send thee to Green-land for a haunch of
venison, just of the thickness of thine own tallow.

_Clow._ Ha, ha, ha, I'll not stir an inch for thee.

_Foro._ Thence to _Amboyna_ i'th' _East-Indies_, for pepper to
bake it.

_Clow._ To _Amboyna_? so I might be pepper'd.

_Foro._ Then will I conveigh thee stark naked to _Develing_ to
beg a pair of _brogs_, to hide thy mountainous buttocks.

_Clow._ And no doublet to 'em?

_Foro._ No sir, I intend to send you of a sleeveless errand;
but before you vanish, in regard you say I cannot conjure,
and are so stupid, and opinionated a slave, that neither I,
nor my art can compell you to do any thing that's beyond your
own pleasure, the gentlemen shall have some sport, you cannot
endure a cat sirra?

_Clow._ What's that to thee Jugler?

_Foro._ Nor you'll do nothing at my entreaty?

_Clow._ I'll be hang'd first.

_Foro._ Sit Gentlemen, and whatsoever you see, be not frighted.

_Hostess._ Alas I can endure no conjuring.

_Host._ Stir not wife.

_Bian._ Pray let me go sir, I am not fit for these fooleryes.

_Host._ Move not daughter.

_For._ I wil make you dance a new dance call'd leap-frog.

_Clow._ Ha, ha, ha.

_For._ And as naked as a frog.

_Clow._ Ha, ha, ha, I defie thee.

[Forobosco _looks in a book, strikes with his wand, Musick
playes_.

_Enter 4. Boyes shaped like Frogs, and dance._

_P[e]dant._ Spirits of the water in the likeness of frogs.

_Tay._ He has fisht fair believe me.

_Mule._ See, see, he sweats and trembles.

_Foro._ Are you come to your quavers?

_Clow._ Oh, ho, ho.

_Foro._ I'll make you run division on that o'r ere I leave you;
looke you, here are the playfellowes that are so indear'd to
you; come sir, first uncase, and then dance, nay I'll make him
dance stark naked.

_Host._ Oh let him have his shirt on and his _Mogols_ breeches,
here are Women ith' house.

_Foro._ Well for their sakes he shall.

[_Clown teares off his doublet, making strange faces as_
_if compel'd to it, falls into the Dance._

_Tay._ He dances, what a lying rogue was this to say the
gentleman could not conjure!

_Foro._ He does prettily well, but 'tis voluntary, I assure
you, I have no hand in't.

_Clow._ As you are a Counjurer, and a rare Artist, free me from
these couplets; of all creatures I cannot endure a Frog.

_Foro._ But your dancing is voluntary, I can compell you to
nothing.

_Hostes._ O me, daughter, lets take heed of this fellow, he'll
make us dance naked, an' we vex him. [--_Exeunt Hostess and
Bianca._

_Foro._ Now cut capers sirra, I'll plague that chine of yours.

_Clow._ Ho, ho, ho, my kidneys are rosted. I drop away like a
pound of butter rosted.

_Tayl._ He will dance himself to death.

_Foro._ No matter I'll sell his fat to the Pothecaries, and
repair my injury that way.

_Host._ Enough in conscience.

_Foro._ Well, at your entreaty vanish. And now I wil only make
him break his neck in doing a _sommerset_, and that's all the
revenge I mean to take of him.

_Clow._ O gentlemen, what a rogue was I to belye so an approved
Master in the noble dark science? you can witness, this I did
only to spoyle his practise and deprive you of the happyness of
injoying his worthy labors; rogue that I was to do it, pray sir
forgive me.

_Foro._ With what face canst thou ask it?

_Clow._ With such a face as I deserve, with a hanging look, as
all here can testifie.

_Foro._ Well gentlemen, that you may perceive the goodness
of my temper, I will entertain this rogue againe in hope of
amendment, for should I turn him off, he would be hang'd.

_Clow._ You may read that in this foul coppy.

_Foro._ Only with this promise, you shall never cozen any of my
patients.

_Clow._ Never.

_Foro._ And remember hence forward, that though I cannot
conjure, I can make you dance sirra, go get your self into the
cottage again.

_Enter Cæsario._

_Clow._ I will never more dance leap-Frog: now I have got you
into credit, hold it up, and cozen them in abundance.

_Foro._ Oh rare rascall. [--_Exit Clown._

_Cesar._ How now, a _Frankford_ mart here, a Mountebank, and
his worshipfull auditory?

_Host._ They are my guests Sir.

_Cesar._ A ---- upon them, shew your jugling tricks in some
other room.

_Host._ And why not here Sir?

_Cesar._ Hence, or sirra I shall spoil your figure flinging,
and all their radicall questions.

_Omnes._ Sir we vanish. [_Exeunt. Manet Host. & Cesar._

_Host. Signior Cesario_, you make bold with me,
And somewhat I must tell you to a degree
Of ill manners: they are my guests, and men I live by,
And I would know by what authority
You command thus far.

_Cesar._ By my interest in your daughter.

_Host._ Interest do you call't? as I remember I never put
her out to Usury on that condition.

_Cesar._ Pray thee be not angry.

_Enter Bianca and Hostess._

I am come to make thee happy, and her happy:
She's here; alas my pretty soul, I am come
To give assurance that's beyond thy hope,
Or thy beleif, I bring repentance 'bout me,
And satisfaction, I will marry thee.

_Bianca._ Ha?

_Cesar._ As I live I will, but do not entertain't
With too quick an apprehension of joy,
For that may hurt thee, I have heard some dye of't.

_Bian._ Do not fear me.

_Cesar._ Then thou think'st I feign
This protestation, I will instantly
Before these testifie my new alliance,
Contract my self unto thee, then I hope
We may be more private.

_Host._ But thou shalt not sir,
For so has many a maiden-head been lost, and many a bastard gotten.

_Ces._ Then to give you the best of any assurance in the world,
Entreat thy father to go fetch a Preist
Wee will instantly to bed, and there be married.

_Bian._ Pride hath not yet forsaken you I see,
Though prosperity has.

_Host._ Sir you are too confident
To fashion to your self a dream of purchase
When you are a begger.

_Ces._ You are bold with me.

_Hostes._ Doe we not know your value is cried down
Fourscore i'th' hundred.

_Bian._ Oh sir I did love you
With such a fixed heart, that in that minute
Wherein you slighted, or contemn'd me rather,
I took a vow to obey your last decree,
And never more look up at any hope
Should bring me comfort that way: and though since
Your Foster-mother, and the fair _Clarissa_
Have in the way of marriage despis'd you,
That hath not any way bred my revenge,
But compassion rather. I have found
So much sorrow in the way to a chaste wedlock
That here I will set down, and never wish
To come to'th' journies end. Your suit to mee
Henceforth be ever silenc'd.

_Cesar._ My _Bianca_.

_Hostes._ Henceforward pray forbear her and my house:
She's a poor virtuous wench, yet her estate
May weigh with yours in a gold balance.

_Host._ Yes, and her birth in any Heralds office in
Christendom.

_Hostes._ It may prove so:
When you'll say, you have leapt a Whiting. [_Exit._

_Enter Baptista and Mentivole._

_Ces._ How far am I grown behind hand with fortune!

_Bap._ Here's _Cesario_!
My son Sir, is to morrow to be married
Unto the fair _Clarissa_.

_Ces._ So.

_Ment._ Wee hope you'll be a guest there.

_Ces._ No I will not grace your triumph so much.

_Bap._ I will not tax your breeding.
But it alters not your birth Sir, fare you well.

_Ment._ Oh Sir, doe not greive him,
He has too much affliction already. [_Exeunt._

_Enter a Sailor._

_Ces._ Every way scorn'd and lost,
Shame follow you
For I am grown most miserable.

_Sail._ Sir do you know a Ladies son in town here
They cal _Cesario_?

_Cesar._ There's none such I assure thee.

_Sail._ I was told you were the man.

_Cesar._ What's that to thee?

_Sail._ A ---- on't. You are melancholy, will you drink Sir?

_Cesar._ With whom?

_Sail._ With me Sir; despise not this pitch'd Canvas; the
time was we have known them lin'd with Spanish Duckets;
I have news for you:

_Cesar._ For me!

_Sail._ Not unless you'll drink;
We are like our Sea provision, once out of pickle,
We require abundance of drink; I have news to tell you,
That were you Prince,
Would make you send your mandate
To have a thousand bonfires made i'th' City
And pist out agen with nothing but Greek wine.

_Cesar._ Come, I will drink with thee howsoever.

_Sail._ And upon these terms I will utter my mind to you. [_Exeunt._

_Actus Quintus. Scæna Prima._

_Enter Alberto, Prospero, Juliana and Sailors._

_Sail._ Shall we bring your necessaries ashore my Lord?

_Alb._ Do what you please, I am land-sick, worse by far
Than ere I was at sea.

_Pros._ Collect your self.

_Alber._ O my most worthy _Prospero_, my best friend,
The noble favor I receiv'd from thee
In freeing me from the Turks I now accompt
Worse than my death; for I shall never live
To make requitall; what do you attend for?

_Sail._ To understand your pleasure.

_Alber._ They do mock me;
I do protest I have no kind of pleasure
In any thing i'th' world, but in thy friendship,
I must ever except that.

_Pros._ Pray leave him, leave him.---- [_Exeunt Sailors._

_Alber._ The news I heard related since my landing
Of the division of my Family,
How is it possible for any man
To bear't with a set patience?

_Pros._ You have suffer'd
Since your imprisonment more waighty sorrows.

_Alber._ I, then I was man of flesh and blood,
Now I am made up of fire, to the full height
Of a deadly Calenture; O these vild women
That are so ill preservers of mens honors,
They cannot govern their own honesties.
That I should thirty and odd winters feed
My expectation of a noble heir,
And by a womans falshood find him now
A fiction, a mere dream of what he was;
And yet I love him still.

_Pros._ In my opinion
The sentence (on this tryall) from the Duke
Was noble, to repair _Cesario's_ loss
With the marriage of your wife, had you been dead.

_Alber._ By your favor but it was not, I conceive
T'was disparagement to my name, to have my widdow
Match with a Faulkeiners son, and yet beli've't
I love the youth still, and much pitty him.
I do remember at my going to Sea,
Upon a quarrel, and a hurt receiv'd
From young _Mentivole_, my rage so far
Oretopt my nobler temper, I gave charge
To have his hand cut off, which since I heard,
And to my comfort, brave _Cesario_,
Worthyly prevented.

_Pros._ And 'twas nobly done.

_Albert_ Yet the revenge, for this intent of mine
Hath bred much slaughter in our families,
And yet my wife (which infinitely moans me)
Intends to marry my sole heir _Clarissa_
To the head branch of the other faction.

_Pros._ 'Tis the mean to work reconcilement.

_Alber._ Between whom?

_Pros._ Your self and the worthy _Baptista_.

_Alber._ Never.

_Pros._ O you have been of a noble and remarkable friendship,
And by this match 'tis generally in _Florence_
Hop'd, 'twill fully be reconcil'd; to me
'Twould be absolute content.

_Julia._ And to my self, I have main interest in it.

_Alb._ Noble Sir, you may command my heart to break for you
But never to bend that way; poor _Cesario_,
When thou put'st on thy mournfull willow-garland,
Thy enemy shall be suted (I do vow)
In the same livery, my _Cesario_
Loved as my foster child, though not my Son,
Which in some countryes formerly were barbarous,
Was a name held most affectionate; thou art lost,
Unfortunate young man, not only slighted
Where thou received'st thy breeding, but since scorn'd
I th' way of marriage, by the poor _Bianca_
The In-keepers daughter.

_Pros._ I have heard of that too;
But let not that afflict you: for this Lady
May happily deliver at more leasure
A circumstance may draw a fair event,
Better than you can hope for.
For this present we must leave you,
And shall visit you again within these two hours.

----_Enter Cesario._

_Albert._ Ever to me most welcome,----O my _Cesario_.

_Cesar._ I am none of yours Sir, so 'tis protested;
And I humbly beg,
Since 'tis not in your power to preserve me
Any longer in a noble course of life,
Give me a worthy death.

_Alber._ The youth is mad.

_Cesar._ Nay Sir, I will instruct you in a way
To kill me honorably.

_Alber._ That were most strange.

_Cesar._ I am turning Pirate, You may be imployed
By the Duke to fetch me in; and in a Sea-fight
Give me a noble grave.

_Alber._ Questionless he's mad: I would give any Doctor
A thousand crowns to free him from this sorrow.

_Cesar._ Here's the Physitian.----_Shewes a Poniard._

_Alber._ Hold Sir, I did say
To free you from the sorrow, not from life.

_Cesar._ Why life and sorrow are unseparable.

_Alber._ Be comforted _Cesario_, _Mentivole_
Shall not marry _Clarissa_.

_Cesar._ No Sir, ere he shall, I'll kill him.

_Alb[e]r._ But you forfeit your own life then.

_Cesar._ That's worth nothing.

_Alber. Cesario_, be thy self, be mine _Cesario_:
Make not thy self uncapable of that portion
I have full purpose to confer upon thee,
By falling into madness: bear thy wrongs
With noble patience, the afflicted's friend
Which ever in all actions crowns the end.

_Ces._ You well awak'd me; nay recover'd me
Both to sence and full life, O most noble sir,
Though I have lost my fortune, and lost you
For a worthy Father: yet I will not lose
My former virtue, my integrity
Shall not yet forsake me; but as the wild Ivy,
Spreads and thrives better in some pittious ruin
Of tower, or defac'd Temple, than it does
Planted by a new building; so shall I
Make my adversity my instrument
To winde me up into a full content.

_Alber._ 'Tis worthily resolv'd; our first adventure
Is to stop the marriage; for thy other losses,
Practis'd by a womans malice, but account them
Like conjurers winds rais'd to a fearfull blast,
And do some mischeif, but do never last. [_Exeunt._

_Enter Forobosco and Clown._

_Clow._ Now sir, will you not acknowledge that I have mightily
advanc'd your practice?

_Forobos._ 'Tis confest, and I will make thee a great man for't.

_Clow._ I take a course to do that my self, for I drink sack in
abundance.

_Foro._ O my rare rascall! We must remove.

_Clow._ Whither?

_Foro._ Any whither: _Europe_ is too little to be coz'ned by
us, I am ambitious to go to the _East-Indies_, thou and I to
ride on our brace of Elephants.

_Clow._ And for my part I long to be in _England_ agen; you
will never get so much as in _England_, we have shifted many
countryes, and many names: but trance the world over you shall
never purse up so much gold as when you were in _England_, and
call'd your self Doctor _Lambe_-stones.

_Foro._ 'Twas an atractive name I confess, women were then my
only admirers.

_Clow._ And all their visits was either to further their lust,
or revenge injuries.

_Foro._ You should have forty in a morning beleaguer my closet,
and strive who should be cozen'd first, amongst four-score
love-sick waiting women that has come to me in a morning to
learn what fortune should betide them in their first marriage,
I have found above 94 to have lost their maiden-heads.

_Clow._ By their own confession, but I was fain to be your male
midwife, and work it out of them by circumstance.

_Foro._ Thou wast, and yet for all this frequent resort of
women and thy hand[l]ing of their urinals and their cases, thou
art not given to lechery, what should be the reason of it? thou
hast wholsome flesh enough about thee; me thinks the divell
should tempt thee to't.

_Clow._ What need he do that, when he makes me his instrument
to tempt others.

_Foro._ Thou canst not chuse but utter thy rare good parts;
thou wast an excellent baud I acknowledge.

_Clow._ Well, and what I have done that way, I will spare to
speak of all you and I have done sir, and though we should--

_Foro._ We will for _England_, that's for certain.

_Clow._ We shall never want there.

_Foro._ Want? their Court of Wards shall want money first: for
I profess my self Lord Paramount over fools a[n]d madfolkes.

_Clow._ Do but store your self with lyes enough against you
come thither.

_Foro._ Why that's all the familiarity I ever had with the
Divell, my guift of lying, they say he's the Father of lyes;
and though I cannot conjure, yet I profess my self to be one of
his poor gossips. I will now reveale to thee a rare peece of
service.

_Clow._ What is it my most worshipful Doctor _Lamb_-stones?

_Foro._ There is a Captain come lately from Sea,
They call _Prosper_, I saw him this morning
Through a chink of wainscote that divides my lodging,

And the Host of the house, withdraw my Host, and Hostess,
the fair _Biancha_, and an antient gentlewoman into their
bedchamber; I could not overhear their conference, but I saw
such a mass of gold & Jewels, & when he had done he lock't it
up into a casket; great joy there was amongst them, & forth
they are gone into the city, and my Host told me at his going
forth he thought he should not return till after supper: now
Sir, in their absence will we fall to our picklocks, enter the
chamber, seize the Jewels, make an escape from _Florence_, and
we are made for ever.

_Clow._ But if they should go to a true conjurer, and fetch us
back in a whirle-wind?

_Foro._ Do not believe there is any such fetch in _Astrology_,
and this may be a means to make us live honest hereafter.

_Clow._ 'Tis but an ill road to't that lyes through the high
way of theeving.

_Foro._ For indeed I am weary of this trade of fortune-telling;
and mean to give all over, when I come into _England_, for it
is a very ticklish quality.

_Clow._ And i'th' end will hang by a twine thred.

_Foro._ Besides the Island has too many of the profession, they
hinder on[e] anothers market.

_Clow._ No, no, the pillory hinders their market.

_Foro._ You know there the jugling captain.

_Clow._ I there's a sure card.

_Foro._ Only the fore-man of their jury is dead, but he dyed
like a Roman.

_Clow._ Else 'tis thought he had made work for the hangman.

_Foro._ And the very _Ball_, of your false prophets, he's
quasht too.

_Clow._ He did measure the stars with a false yard, and may now
travail to _Rome_, with a morter on's head to see if he can
recover his money that way.

_Foro._ Come, come, lets fish for this casket, and to Sea
presently.

_Clow._ We shall never reach _London_, I fear;
My mind runs so much of hanging, landing at _Wapping_. [_Exeunt._

_Enter Mariana._

This well may be a day of joy long wish'd for
To my _Clarissa_, she is innocent.
Nor can her youth but with an open bosome
Meet _Hymens_ pleasing bounties, but to me
That am inviron'd with black guilt and horror
It does appear a funeral though promising much
In the conception were hard to mannage
But sad in [the] event, it was not hate
But fond indulgence in me to preserve
_Cesario's_ threatn'd life in open court
Then forc'd me to disclaime him, choosing rather
To rob him of his birthright, and honor
Than suffer him to run the hazard of
Inrag'd _Baptista's_ fury, while he lives;
I know I have a Son, and the Dukes sentence
A while deluded, and this tempest over,
When he assures himself despair hath seiz'd him. [_Knock within._

_Enter Baptista._

I can relieve and raise him--speak, who is it
That presses on my privacies? Sir your pardon.
You cannot come unwelcome, though it were
To read my secret thoughts.

_Bap._ Lady to you
Mine shall be ever open; Lady said I,
That name keeps too much distance, sister rather
I should have stil'd you, and I now may claime it,
Since our divided families are made one
By this blessed marriage; to whose honor comes
The Duke in person, waited on by all
The braveries of his Court, to witness it,
And then to be our ghests, is the bride ready
To meet and entertain him?

_Maria._ She attends the comming of your Son.

_Bap._ Pray you bring her forth.
The Duke's at hand--Musick, in her loud voyce,
Speaks his arrivall.

_Maria._ She's prepar'd to meet it. [--_Exit._

_Enter_ Mariana, Clarissa, _led by two Maids: at the other_
_door_, Baptista _meets with_ Mentivole, _led by two Cour[t]iers,_
_the Duke, Bishop; divers Attendants: (A Song) whilst_
_they salute_.

_Duke._ It were impertinent to wish you joy,
Since all joyes dwell about you, _Hymens_ torch
Was never lighted with a luckier _Omen_.
Nor burnt with so much splendor, to defer
With fruitless compliment, the means to make
Your certain pleasures lawful to the world;
Since in the union of your hearts they are
Confirm'd already: would but argue us
A boaster of our favours; to the Temple,
And there the sacred knot once ti'd, all triumphs
Our Dukedom can afford, shall grace your Nuptials.

_Enter_ Alberto _and_ Cesario.

_Bap._ On there.

_Ment._ I hope it is not in the power
Of any to cross us now.

_Alber._ But in the breath
Of a wrong'd Father I forbid the Banes.

_Cesar._ What, do you stand at gaze?

_Bap._ Risen from the dead!

_Maria._ Although the Sea had vomited up the Figure
In which thy better part liv'd long imprison'd,
True love despising fear, runs thus to meet it.

_Claris._ In duty I kneel to it.