Chapter CXXXIX: Act V: Scene I.4336

_Enter_ Lady BORNWELL, _and a_ Servant [_with a purse_].

_Lady B._ But hath Sir Thomas lost five hundred pounds
Already?

_Serv._ And five hundred more he borrow’d.
The dice are notable devourers, madam;
They make no more of pieces than of pebbles,
But thrust their heaps together, to engender. 5
“Two hundred more the caster!”[4337] cries this gentleman.
“I am wi’ ye.—I ha’ that to nothing, sir. The caster
Again.” ’T is covered, and the table too,
With sums that frighted me. Here one sneaks out,
And with a martyr’s patience smiles upon 10
His money’s executioner, the dice;
Commands a pipe of good tobacco, and
I’ th’ smoke on ’t vanishes. Another makes
The bones vault o’er his head, swears that ill-throwing
Has put his shoulder out of joint, calls for 15
A bone-setter. That looks to th’ box, to bid
His master send him some more hundred pounds,
Which lost, he takes tobacco, and is quiet.
Here a strong arm throws in and in, with which
He brusheth all the table, pays the rooks[4338] 20
That went their smelts[4339] a piece upon his hand,
Yet swears he has not drawn a stake this seven year.
But I was bid make haste; my master may
Lose this five hundred pounds ere I come thither. _Exit._

_Lady B._ If we both waste so fast, we shall soon find 25
Our state is not immortal. Something in
His other ways appear not well ready.

_Enter_ Sir THOMAS BORNWELL, [_and_ Servants, _one with a purse._]

_Born._ Ye tortoises, why make ye no more haste?
Go pay to th’ master of the house that money,
And tell the noble gamesters I have another 30
Superfluous thousand pound; at night I ’ll visit ’em.
D’ ye hear?

_Serv._ Yes, an please you.

_Born._ Do ’t ye drudges [_Exeunt_ Servants.]
Ta, ra, ra!—Aretina!

_Lady B._ You have a pleasant humour, sir.

_Born._ What! should a gentleman be sad?

_Lady B._ You have lost—

_Born._ A transitory sum; as good that way 35
As another.

_Lady B._ Do you not vex within for ’t?

_Born._ I had rather lose a thousand more, than one
Sad thought come near my heart for ’t. Vex for trash!
Although it go from other men like drops
Of their life blood, we lose with the alacrity 40
We drink a cup of sack, or kiss a mistress.
No money is considerable with a gamester;
They have souls more spacious than kings. Did two
Gamesters divide the empire of the world,
They ’d make one throw for ’t all, and he that lost 45
Be no more melancholy than to have play’d for
A morning’s draught. Vex a rich soul for dirt,
The quiet of whose every thought is worth
A province!

_Lady B._ But when dice have consum’d all,
Your patience will not pawn for as much more.

_Born._ Hang pawning! Sell outright, and the fear ’s over. 51

_Lady B._ Say you so? I ’ll have another coach to-morrow
If there be rich above ground.

_Born._ I forgot
To bid the fellow ask my jeweller
Whether the chain of diamonds be made up; 55
I will present it to my Lady Bellamour,
Fair Celestina.

_Lady B._ This gown I have worn
Six days already; it looks dull, I ’ll give it
My waiting-woman, and have one of cloth
Of gold embroidered; shoes and pantables[4340] 60
Will show well of the same.

_Born._ I have invited
A covey of ladies, and as many gentlemen
To-morrow, to the Italian ordinary;
I shall have rarities and regalias[4341]
To pay for, madam; music, wanton songs, 65
And tunes of silken petticoats to dance to.

_Lady B._ And to-morrow have I invited half the court
To dine here. What misfortune ’t is your company
And ours should be divided! After dinner
I entertain ’em with a play.

_Born._ By that time 70
Your play inclines to the epilogue, shall we
Quit our Italian host; and whirl in coaches
To the Dutch magazine of sauce, the Steelyard,
Where deal,[4342] and backrag,[4343] and what strange wine else
They dare but give a name to in the reckoning,
Shall flow into our room, and drown Westphalias,[4344] 76
Tongues, and anchovies, like some little town
Endangered by a sluice, through whose fierce ebb
We wade, and wash ourselves into a boat,
And bid our coachmen drive their leather tenements 80
By land, while we sail home, with a fresh tide,
To some new rendezvous.

_Lady B._ If you have not
’Pointed the place, pray bring your ladies hither;
I mean to have a ball to-morrow night, 84
And a rich banquet for ’em, where we ’ll dance
Till morning rise, and blush to interrupt us.

_Born._ Have you no ladies i’ th’ next room, to advance[4345]
A present mirth? What a dull house you govern!
Farewell! a wife ’s no company.—Aretina,
I ’ve summ’d up my estate, and find we may have 90
A month good yet.

_Lady B._ What mean you?

_Born._ And I’d rather
Be lord one month of pleasures, to the height
And rapture of our senses, than be years
Consuming what we have in foolish temperance,
Live in the dark, and no fame wait upon us! 95
I will live so, posterity shall stand
At gaze when I am mentioned.

_Lady B._ A month good!
And what shall be done then?

_Born._ I ’ll over sea,
And trail a pike. With watching, marching, lying
In trenches, with enduring cold and hunger, 100
And taking here and there a musket-shot,
I can earn every week four shillings, madam;
And if the bullets favour me to snatch
Any superfluous limb, when I return,
With good friends, I despair not to be enroll’d
Poor knight of Windsor.[4346] For your course, madam, 106
No doubt you may do well; your friends are great;
Or if your poverty and their pride cannot
Agree, you need not trouble much invention
To find a trade to live by; there are customers. 110
Farewell, be frolic, madam! If I live,
I will feast all my senses, and not fall
Less than a Phaeton from my throne of pleasure,
Though my estate flame like the world about me. _Exit._

_Lady B._ ’T is very pretty!—
_Enter_ DECOY.
Madam Decoy!

_Dec._ What! melancholy, 115
After so sweet a night’s work? Have not I
Show’d myself mistress of my art?

_Lady B._ A lady.

_Dec._ That title makes the credit of the act
A story higher. Y’ have not seen him yet?
I wonder what he ’ll say.

_Lady B._ He ’s here.

_Enter_ KICKSHAW _and_ FREDERICK.

_Kick._ Bear up, 120
My little myrmidon; does not Jack Littleworth
Follow?

_Fred._ Follow? He fell into the Thames
At landing.

_Kick._ The devil shall dive for him,
Ere I endanger my silk stockings for him.
Let the watermen alone, they have drags and engines.[4347] 125
When he has drunk his julep, I shall laugh
To see him come in pickled the next tide.

_Fred._ He’ll never sink, he has such a cork brain.

_Kick._ Let him be hang’d or drown’d, all ’s one to me;
Yet he deserves to die by water, cannot 130
Bear his wine credibly.

_Fred._ Is not this my aunt?

_Kick._ And another handsome lady; I must know her.
[_Goes up to_ DECOY.]

_Fred._ My blood is rampant too, I must court somebody;
As good my aunt as any other body.

_Lady B._ Where have you been, cousin?

_Fred._ At the Bridge, 135
At the Bear’s foot, where our first health began
To the fair Aretina, whose sweet company
Was wished by all. We could not get a lay,
A tumbler, a device, a _bona roba_,[4348]
For any money; drawers were grown dull: 140
We wanted our true firks,[4349] and our vagaries.—
When were you in drink, aunt?

_Lady B._ How?

_Fred._ Do not ladies
Play the good fellows too? There ’s no true mirth
Without ’em. I have now such tickling fancies!
That doctor of the chair of wit has read 145
A precious lecture, how I should behave
Myself to ladies—as now, for example.
[_Goes up to_ LADY BORNWELL.]

_Lady B._ Would you practise upon me?

_Fred._ I first salute you,
You have a soft hand, madam; are you so
All over?

_Lady B._ Nephew!

_Fred._ Nay, you should but smile. 150
And then again I kiss you; and thus draw
Off your white glove, and start, to see your hand
More excellently white. I grace my own
Lip with this touch, and turning gently thus,
Prepare you for my skill in palmistry, 155
Which, out of curiosity, no lady
But easily applies[4350] to. The first line
I look with most ambition to find out,
Is Venus’ girdle, a fair semicircle,
Enclosing both the mount of Sol and Saturn; 160
If that appear, she ’s for my turn; a lady
Whom nature has prepared for the career;
And, Cupid at my elbow, I put forward:
You have this very line, aunt.

_Lady B._ The boy ’s frantic!

_Fred._ You have a couch or pallet; I can shut
The chamber door. Enrich a stranger, when 165
Your nephew ’s coming into play!

_Lady B._ No more.

_Fred._ Are you so coy to your own flesh and blood?

_Kick._ Here, take your playfellow; I talk of sport,
And she would have me marry her. 170

_Fred._ Here ’s Littleworth.
_Enter_ LITTLEWORTH, _wet_.
Why, how now, tutor?

_Little._ I have been fishing.

_Fred._ And what ha’ you caught?

_Little._ My belly full of water.

_Kick._ Ha, ha! Where ’s thy rapier?

_Little._ My rapier is drown’d,
And I am little better. I was up by th’ heels, 175
And out came a tun of water, beside wine.

_Kick._ ’T has made thee sober.

_Little._ Would you have me drunk
With water?

_Lady B._ I hope your fire is quench’d by this time.

_Fred._ It is not now, as when your worship “walk’d
By all the taverns, Jack, dry as a bone.” 180

_Kick._ You had store of fish under water, Jack.

_Little._ It has made a poor John of me.

_Fred._ I do not think but if we cast an angle
Into his belly, we might find some pilchards.[4351]

_Little._ And boil’d, by this time.—Dear madam, a bed. 185

_Kick._ Carry but the water-spaniel to a grass-plot,
Where he may roll himself; let him but shake
His ears twice in the sun, and you may grind him
Into a posset.

_Fred._ Come, thou shalt to my bed,
Poor pickerel.

_Dec._ Alas, sweet gentleman! 190

_Little._ I have ill luck an I should smell by this time;
I am but new ta’en, I am sure.—Sweet gentlewoman!

_Dec._ Your servant.

_Little._ Pray do not pluck off my skin;
It is so wet, unless you have good eyes,
You ’ll hardly know it from a shirt.

_Dec._ Fear nothing. 195
_Exeunt_ [_all but_ KICKSHAW _and_ Lady BORNWELL.]

_Lady B._ [_Aside._] He has sack enough, and I may find his humour.

_Kick._ And how is ’t with your Ladyship? You look
Without a sunshine in your face.

_Lady B._ You are glorious
In mind and habit.

_Kicks._ Ends of gold and silver!

_Lady B._ Your other clothes were not so rich. Who was 200
Your tailor, sir?

_Kick._ They were made for me long since;
They have known but two bright days upon my back.
I had a humour, madam, to lay things by;
They will serve two days more: I think I ha’ gold enough
To go to th’ mercer. I ’ll now allow myself 205
A suit a week, as this, with necessary
Dependances, beaver, silk stockings, garters,
And roses, in their due conformity;
Boots are forbid a clean leg, but to ride in.
My linen every morning comes in new, 210
The old goes to great bellies.

_Lady B._ You are charitable.

_Kick._ I may dine wi’ ye sometime, or at the court,
To meet good company, not for the table.
My clerk o’ th’ kitchen ’s here, a witty epicure,
A spirit, that, to please me with what ’s rare,
Can fly a hundred mile a day to market, 216
And make me lord of fish and fowl. I shall
Forget there is a butcher; and to make
My footman nimble, he shall feed on nothing
But wings of wild fowl.

_Lady B._ These ways are costly. 220

_Kick._ Therefore I ’ll have it so; I ha’ sprung a mine.

_Lady B._ You make me wonder, sir, to see this change
Of fortune: your revenue was not late
So plentiful.

_Kick._ Hang dirty land, and lordships!
I wo’ not change one lodging I ha’ got, 225
For the Chamber of London.

_Lady B._ Strange, of such a sudden,
To rise to this estate! No fortunate hand
At dice could lift you up so, for ’t is since
Last night: yesterday, you were no such monarch.

_Kick._ There be more games than dice.

_Lady B._ It cannot be 230
A mistress, though your person is worth love;
None possibly are rich enough to feed
As you have cast the method of your riots.
A princess, after all her jewels, must
Be forc’d to sell her provinces.

_Kick._ Now you talk 235
Of jewels, what do you think of this?

_Lady B._ A rich one.

_Kick._ You ’ll honour me to wear ’t; this other toy
I had from you; this chain I borrowed of you,
A friend had it in keeping. [_Gives her the jewel and chain._]—If
your ladyship
Want any sum, you know your friend, and Alexander. 240

_Lady B._ Dare you trust my security?

_Kick._ There ’s gold,
I shall have more to-morrow.

_Lady B._ You astonish me;
Who can supply these?

_Kick._ A dear friend I have.
She promis’d we should meet again i’ th’ morning.

_Lady B._ Not that I wish to know 245
More of your happiness than I have already
Heart to congratulate,—be pleas’d to lay
My wonder.

_Kick._ ’T is a secret—

_Lady B._ Which I ’ll die
Ere I ’ll betray.

_Kick._ You have always wish’d me well;
But you shall swear not to reveal the party. 250

_Lady B._ I ’ll lose the benefit of my tongue.

_Kick._ Nor be
Afraid at what I say. What think you first
Of an old witch, a strange ill-favour’d hag,
That, for my company last night, has wrought
This cure upon my fortune? I do sweat 255
To think upon her name.

_Lady B._ How, sir! a witch?

_Kick._ I would not fright your ladyship too much
At first, but witches are akin to spirits.
The truth is—Nay, if you look pale already,
I ha’ done.

_Lady B._ Sir, I beseech you.

_Kick._ If you have 260
But courage then to know the truth, I ’ll tell you
In one word: my chief friend is—the devil!

_Lady B._ What devil? how I tremble!

_Kick._ Have a heart;
’T was a she-devil too, a most insatiate,
Abominable devil, with a tail 265
Thus long.

_Lady B._ Goodness defend me! Did you see her?

_Kick._ No, ’t was i’ th’ dark; but she appear’d first to me
I’ th’ likeness of a beldam, and was brought,
I know not how, nor whither, by two goblins,
More hooded than a hawk.

_Lady B._ But would you venture 270
Upon a devil!

_Kick._ Ay, for means.

_Lady B._ [_Aside._] How black
An impudence is this!—But are you sure
It was the devil you enjoy’d?

_Kick._ Say nothing;
I did the best to please her; but as sure
As you live, ’t was a hell-cat.

_Lady B._ D’ ye not quake? 275

_Kick._ I found myself in the very room[4352] i’ th’ morning,
Where two of her familiars had left me.

_Enter_ Servant.

_Serv._ My lord is come to visit you.

_Kick._ No words,
As you respect my safety. I ha’ told tales
Out of the devil’s school; if it be known, 280
I lose a friend. ’T is now about the time
I promis’d her to meet again; at my
Return I ’ll tell you wonders. Not a word. _Exit._

_Lady B._ ’T is a false glass; sure I am more deform’d:
[_Looks in her pocket mirror._]
What have I done?—My soul is miserable. 285

_Enter_ LORD ——.

_Lord._ I sent you a letter, madam.

_Lady B._ You exprest
Your noble care of me, my lord.

_Re-enter_ SIR THOMAS BORNWELL _with_ CELESTINA.

_Born._ Your lordship
Does me an honour.

_Lord._ Madam, I am glad
To see you here; I meant to have kist your hand,
Ere my return to court.

_Cel._ Sir Thomas has 290
Prevail’d to bring me, to his trouble, hither.

_Lord._ You do him grace.

_Born._ Why, what ’s the matter, madam?
Your eyes are tuning _Lachrimae_.[4353]

_Lady B._ As you
Do hope for Heaven, withdraw, and give me but
The patience of ten minutes.

_Born._ Wonderful! 295
I will not hear you above that proportion.
She talks of Heaven:—Come, where must we to counsel?

_Lady B._ You shall conclude me when you please. [_Exit._]

_Born._ I follow.

_Lord._ [_Aside._] What alteration is this? I, that so late
Stood the temptation of her eye and voice, 300
Boasted a heart ’bove all licentious flame,
At second view turn renegade, and think
I was too superstitious, and full
Of phlegm, not to reward her amorous courtship
With manly freedom.

_Cel._ I obey you, sir. 305

_Born._ I ’ll wait upon your lordship presently. [_Exit._]

_Lord._ She could not want a cunning to seem honest
When I neglected her. I am resolv’d.—
You still look pleasant, madam.

_Cel._ I have cause, 309
My lord, the rather for your presence, which
Hath power to charm all trouble in my thoughts.

_Lord._ I must translate that compliment, and owe
All that is cheerful in myself to these
All-quick’ning smiles; and rather than such bright
Eyes should repent their influence upon me, 315
I would release the aspects, and quit the bounty
Of all the other stars. Did you not think me
A strange and melancholy gentleman,
To use you so unkindly?

_Cel._ Me, my lord?

_Lord._ I hope you made no loud complaint; I would not 320
Be tried by a jury of ladies.

_Cel._ For what, my lord?

_Lord._ I did not meet that noble entertainment
You were late pleas’d to show me.

_Cel._ I observ’d
No such defect in your lordship, but a brave
And noble fortitude.

_Lord._ A noble folly; 325
I bring repentance for ’t. I know you have,
Madam, a gentle faith, and wo’ not ruin
What you have built to honour you.

_Cel._ What ’s that?

_Lord._ If you can love, I ’ll tell your ladyship.

_Cel._ I have a stubborn soul else.

_Lord._ You are all 330
Compos’d of harmony.

_Cel._ What love d’ ye mean?

_Lord._ That which doth perfect both. Madam, you have heard
I can be constant, and if you consent
To grace it so, there is a spacious dwelling
Prepar’d within my heart for such a mistress. 335

_Cel._ Your mistress, my good lord?

_Lord._ Why, my good lady,
Your sex doth hold it no dishonour
To become mistress to a noble servant
In the now court Platonic way. Consider
Who ’t is that pleads to you; my birth and present 340
Value can be no stain to your embrace;
But these are shadows when my love appears,
Which shall, in his first miracle, return
Me in my bloom of youth, and thee a virgin;
When I, within some new Elysium, 345
Of purpose made and meant for us, shall be
In every thing Adonis, but in his
Contempt of love; and court thee from a Daphne
Hid in the cold rind of a bashful tree,
With such warm language and delight, till thou 350
Leap from that bay[4354] into the Queen of Love,
And pay my conquest with composing garlands
Of thy own myrtle for me.

_Cel._ What ’s all this?

_Lord._ Consent to be my mistress, Celestina,
And we will have it spring-time all the year; 355
Upon whose invitations, when we walk,
The winds shall play soft descant to our feet,
And breathe rich odours to re-pure the air:
Green bowers on every side shall tempt our stay,
And violets stoop to have us tread upon ’em. 360
The red rose shall grow pale, being near thy cheek,
And the white blush, o’ercome with such a forehead.
Here laid, and measuring with ourselves some bank,
A thousand birds shall from the woods repair,
And place themselves so cunningly behind 365
The leaves of every tree, that while they pay
Us tribute of their songs, them sha’t imagine
The very trees bear music, and sweet voices
Do grow in every arbour. Here can we
Embrace and kiss, tell tales, and kiss again, 370
And none but Heaven our rival.

_Cel._ When we are
Weary of these, what if we shift our paradise,
And through a grove of tall and even pine,
Descend into a valley, that shall shame
All the delights of Tempe; upon whose 375
Green plush the Graces shall be call’d to dance
To please us, and maintain their fairy revels,
To the harmonious murmurs of a stream
That gently falls upon a rock of pearl. 379
Here doth the nymph, forsaken Echo, dwell,
To whom we ’ll tell the story of our love,
Till at our surfeit and her want of joy,
We break her heart with envy. Not far off,
A grove shall call us to a wanton river,
To see a dying swan give up the ghost, 385
The fishes shooting up their tears in bubbles,
That they must lose the genius of their waves—
And such love linsey woolsey, to no purpose.

_Lord._ You chide me handsomely; pray tell me how
You like this language.

_Cel._ Good my lord, forbear. 390

_Lord._ You need not fly out of this circle, madam;—
These widows are so full of circumstance!—
I ’ll undertake, in this time I ha’ courted
Your ladyship for the toy, to ha’ broken ten,
Nay, twenty colts, virgins I mean, and taught ’em 395
The amble, or what pace I most affected.

_Cel._ You ’re not, my lord, again, the lord I thought you;
And I must tell you now, you do forget
Yourself and me.

_Lord._ You ’ll not be angry, madam?

_Cel._ Nor rude, (though gay men have a privilege,) 400
It shall appear:—there is a man, my lord,
Within my acquaintance, rich in worldly fortunes,
But cannot boast any descent of blood,
Would buy a coat of arms.

_Lord._ He may, and legs
Booted and spurr’d, to ride into the country. 405

_Cel._ But these will want antiquity, my lord,
The seal of honour. What ’s a coat cut out
But yesterday, to make a man a gentleman?
Your family, as old as the first virtue
That merited an escutcheon, doth owe[4355] 410
A glorious coat of arms; if you will sell now
All that your name doth challenge in that ensign,
I ’ll help you to a chapman that shall pay,
And pour down wealth enough for ’t.

_Lord._ Sell my arms!
I cannot, madam.

_Cel._ Give but your consent, 415
You know not how the state may be inclin’d
To dispensation; we may prevail
Upon the Herald’s office afterward.

_Lord._ I ’ll sooner give these arms to th’ hangman’s axe,
My head, my heart, to twenty executions, 420
Than sell one atom from my name.

_Cel._ Change that,
And answer him would buy my honour from me;
Honour, that is not worn upon a flag
Or pennon, that, without the owner’s dangers,
An enemy may ravish, and bear from me; 425
But that which grows and withers with my soul,
Beside the body’s stain: think, think, my lord,
To what you would unworthily betray me,
If you would not, for price of gold, or pleasure,
(If that be more your idol,) lose the glory 430
And painted honour of your house.—I ha’ done.

_Lord._ Enough to rectify a satyr’s blood.
Obscure my blushes here.

_Enter_ SIR WILLIAM SCENTLOVE _and_ HAIRCUT.

_Hair._ Or this, or fight with me;
It shall be no exception that I wait
Upon my lord; I am a gentleman, 435
You may be less and be a knight: the office
I do my lord is honest, sir. How many
Such you have been guilty of, Heaven knows.

_Scent._ ’T is no fear of your sword, but that I would not 439
Break the good laws establish’d against duels.

_Hair._ Off with your periwig, and stand bare.
[SIR WILLIAM SCENTLOVE _takes off his periwig._]

_Lord._ From this
Minute I ’ll be a servant to thy goodness;
A mistress in the wanton sense is common,
I ’ll honour you with chaste thoughts, and call you so.

_Cel._ I ’ll study to be worth your fair opinion.

_Lord._ Scentlove, your head was us’d to a covering, 446
Beside a hat; when went the hair away?

_Scent._ I laid a wager, my lord, with Haircut,
Who thinks I shall catch cold, that I ’ll stand bare
This half hour.

_Hair._ Pardon my ambition, 450
Madam, I told you truth; I am a gentleman,
And cannot fear that name is drown’d in my
Relation to my lord.

_Cel._ I dare not think so.

_Hair._ From henceforth call my service duty, madam.
That pig’s head, that betray’d me to your mirth, 455
Is doing penance for ’t.

_Scent._ Why may not I,
My lord, begin a fashion of no hair?

_Cel._ Do you sweat, Sir William?

_Scent._ Not with store of nightcaps.

_Re-enter_ SIR THOMAS _and_ LADY BORNWELL.

_Lady B._ Heaven has dissolv’d the clouds that hung upon
My eyes, and if you can with mercy meet 460
A penitent, I throw my own will off,
And now in all things obey yours. My nephew
Send back again to th’ college, and myself
To what place you ’ll confine me.

_Born._ Dearer now
Than ever to my bosom, thou sha’t please 465
Me best to live at thy own choice. I did
But fright thee with a noise of my expenses;
The sums are safe, and we have wealth enough,
If yet we use it nobly. My lord—madam,
Pray honour us to-night.

_Lady B._ I beg your presence, 470
And pardon.

_Born._ I know not how my Aretina
May be dispos’d to-morrow for the country.

_Cel._ You must not go before you have done
Me honour to accept an entertainment
Where I have power; on those terms I ’m your guest. 475

_Born._ You grace us, madam.

_Lady B._ [_Aside._] Already
I feel a cure upon my soul, and promise
My after life to virtue. Pardon, Heaven,
My shame, yet hid from the world’s eye.

_Re-enter_ DECOY.

_Dec._ Sweet madam!

_Lady B._ Not for the world be seen here! We are lost. 480
I ’ll visit you at home.—[_Aside._] But not to practise
What she expects: my counsel may recover her. [_Exit_ DECOY.]

_Re-enter_ KICKSHAW.

_Kick._ Where ’s madam?—Pray lend me a little money,
My spirit has deceiv’d me; Proserpine
Has broke her word.

_Lady B._ Do you expect to find 485
The devil true to you?

_Kick._ Not too loud.

_Lady B._ I ’ll voice it
Louder, to all the world, your horrid sin,
Unless you promise me religiously,
To purge your foul blood by repentance, sir.

_Kick._ Then I ’m undone.

_Lady B._ Not while I have power 490
To encourage you to virtue. I ’ll endeavour
To find you out some nobler way at court,
To thrive in.

_Kick._ Do ’t and I ’ll forsake the devil,
And bring my flesh to obedience. You shall steer me.—
My lord, your servant.

_Lord._ You are brave again. 495

_Kick._ Madam, your pardon.

_Born._ Your offence requires
Humility.

_Kick._ Low as my heart.—Sir Thomas,
I ’ll sup with you, a part of satisfaction.

_Born._ Our pleasures cool. Music! and when our ladies
Are tir’d with active motion, to give 500
Them rest, in some new rapture to advance
Full mirth, our souls shall leap into a dance. _Exeunt._

THE CARDINAL

BY JAMES SHIRLEY

PERSONS

KING OF NAVARRE.
THE CARDINAL.
COLUMBO, the Cardinal’s Nephew.
[COUNT] D’ALVAREZ.
HERNANDO, a Colonel.
ALPHONSO, [a Captain.]
Lords.
[ANTONIO,] Secretary to the Duchess.
Colonels.
ANTONELLI, the Cardinal’s Servant.
[Gentleman-Usher.]
Surgeon.
[JAQUES, PEDRO, and other Servants.]
Guard.
Attendants, etc.

DUCHESS ROSAURA.
VALERIA, }
CELINDA, } Ladies.
PLACENTIA, a Lady that waits upon the Duchess.

SCENE.—_Navarre._

THE PROLOGUE

THE CARDINAL! ’Cause we express no scene,
We do believe most of you, gentlemen,
Are at this hour in France, and busy there,
Though you vouchsafe to lend your bodies here;
But keep your fancy active, till you know, 5
By th’ progress of our play, ’t is nothing so.
A poet’s art is to lead on your thought
Through subtle paths and workings of a plot;
And where your expectation does not thrive,
If things fall better, yet you may forgive. 10
I will say nothing positive; you may
Think what you please; we call it but a Play:
Whether the comic Muse, or ladies’ love,
Romance, or direful tragedy it prove,
The bill determines not; and would you be 15
Persuaded, I would have ’t a Comedy,
For all the purple in the name and state
Of him that owns it; but ’t is left to fate.
Yet I will tell you, ere you see it play’d,
What the author, and he blusht too, when he said, 20
Comparing with his own, (for ’t had been pride,
He thought, to build his wit a pyramid
Upon another’s wounded fame,) this play
Might rival with his best, and dar’d to say—
Troth, I am out: he said no more. You, then, 25
When ’t ’s done, may say your pleasures, gentlemen.