And staid tuition, my most noble friend;
I then commend this Lady; start not off
A fairer, and a chaster never liv'd;
By her own choice you are her Guardian,
For telling her I was to leave my Fort,
And to abandon quite all worldly cares.
Her own request was, to _Gomera_'s hands
She might be given in custody, for sh'ad heard
He was a Gentleman wise, and temperate,
Full of humanity to Women-kind,
And 'cause he had been married, knew the better
How to entreat a Lady.
_Val._ What Countrey-woman is she?
_Mir._ Born a _Greek_.
_Val. Gomera_, 'twill be barbarous to denie
A Lady, that unto your refuge flies,
And seeks to shrowd her under virtues wing.
_Gom._ Excuse me noble Sir; oh think me not
So dull a devil, to forget the loss
Of such a matchless wife as I possess'd,
And ever to endure the sight of woman:
Were she the abstract of her sex for form,
The only warehouse of perfection.
Were there no Rose nor Lilly but her Cheek,
No Musick but her tongue, Virtue but hers;
She must not rest near me, my vow is graven,
Here in my heart, irrevocably breath'd
And when I break it.
_Ast._ This is rudeness _Spaniard_,
Unseasonably you play the _Timonist_,
Put on a disposition is not yours,
Which neither fits you, nor becomes you.
_Gom._ Sir.
_Cast._ We cannot force you, but we would perswade.
_Com._ Beseech you Sir, no more, I am resolv'd
To forsake _Malta_, tread a pilgrimage
To fair _Jerusalem_, for my Ladies soul,
And will not be diverted.
_Mir._ You must bear
This Child along w'ye then.
_Gom._ What Child?
_All._ How's this?
_Mir._ Nay then _Gomera_, thou art injurious,
This Child is thine, and this rejected Lady
Thou hast as often known, as thine own wife,
And this I'll make good on thee, with my sword.
_Gom._ Thou durst as well blaspheme: if such a scandal--
(I crave the rights due to a Gentleman)
Woman unvail.
_Ori._ Will you refuse me yet?
_Gom._ My Wife!
_Val._ My Sister!
_Gom._ Some body, thank Heaven
I cannot speak.
_All._ All praise be ever given:
_Mount._ This saves our lives, yet would she had been dead;
The very sight of her afflicts me more
Than fear of punishment, or my disgrace.
_Val._ How came you to the Temple?
_Mir._ Sir, to do
My poor devotions, and to offer thanks
For scaping a temptation near perform'd
With this fair Virgin. I restore a wife
Earth cannot parallel: and busie nature
If thou wilt still make women, but remember
To work 'em by this sampler; take heed, Sir,
Henceforth you never doubt, Sir.
_Gom._ When I do
Death take me suddainly.
_Mir._ To increase your happiness
To your best wife take this addition.
_Gom._ Alack my poor knave.
_Val._ The confession
The _Moor_ made 't seems was truth.
_Nor._ Marry was it Sir; the only truth that ever issued
out of hell, which her black jawes resemble; a plague o'
your bacon-face, you must be giving drinks with a vengeance;
ah thou branded bitch: do' ye stare goggles, I hope to
make winter-boots o' thy hide yet, she fears not damning:
hell fire cannot parch her blacker than she is: d' ye grin,
chimney-sweeper.
_Ori._ What is't _Miranda_?
_Mir._ That you would please _Lucinda_ might attend you.
_Col._ That suit Sir, I consent not to.
_Luc._ My husband?
My dearest _Angelo_?
_Nor._ More _Jiggam-bobs_; is not this the fellow that swom
Like a duck to th' shore in our sea-service?
_Col._ The very same, do not you know me now, Sir,
My name is _Angelo_, though _Colonna_ vail'd it,
Your Countrey-man and kinsman born in _Florence_,
Who from the neighbor-Island here of _Goza_
Was captive led, in that unfortunate day
When the _Turk_ bore with him three thousand souls;
Since in _Constantinople_ have I liv'd
Where I beheld this _Turkish_ Damsel first.
A tedious suitor was I for her love,
And pittying such a beauteous case should hide
A soul prophan'd with infidelity,
I labour'd her conversion with my love,
And doubly won her; to fair faith her soul
She first betroth'd, and then her faith to me,
But fearful there to consummate this contract
We fled, and in that flight were ta'en again
By those same Gallies, 'fore _Valetta_ fought.
Since in your service I attended her,
Where, what I saw, and heard, hath joy'd me more
Than all my past afflictions griev'd before.
_Val._ Wonders crown wonders: take thy wife _Miranda_.
Be henceforth call'd our _Malta_'s better Angel,
And thou her evil _Mountferrat_.
_Nor._ We'll call him _Cacodemon_, with his black gib there,
his _Succuba_, his devils seed, his spawn of _Phlegeton_, that
o' my conscience was bred o' the spume of _Cocitus_; do ye
snarle you black Jill? she looks like the Picture of _America_.
_Val._ Why stay we now.
_Mir._ This last petition to the Court,
I may bequeath the keeping of my Fort
To this my kinsman, toward the maintenance
Of him, and his fair virtuous wife; discreet,
Loyal, and valiant I dare give him you.
_Val._ You must not ask in vain, Sir.
_Col._ My best thanks
To you my noble Cosin, and my service
To the whole Court; may I deserve this bounty.
_Val._ Proceed to th' ceremony, one of our _Esguard_
Degrade _Mountferrat_ first.
_Mount._ I will not sue
For mercy, 'twere in vain; fortune thy worst. [_Musick._
_An Altar discover'd, with Tapers, and a Book on it. The two_
_Bishops stand on each side of it_; Mountferrat, _as the Song is_
_singing, ascends up the Altar_.
_See, see, the stain of honor, virtues foe,_
_Of Virgins fair fames, the foul overthrow,_
_That broken hath his oath of chastity_
_Dishonor'd much this holy dignity,_
_Off with his Robe, expell him forth this place,_
_Whilst we rejoyce, and sing at his disgrace._
_Val._ Since by thy actions thou hast made thy self
Unworthy of that worthy sign thou wear'st,
And of our sacred order, into which
For former virtues we receiv'd thee first,
According to our Statutes, Ordinances,
For praise unto the good, a terror to
The bad, and an example to all men;
We here deprive thee of our habit, and
Declare thee unworthy our society,
From which we do expell thee, as a rotten
Corrupted and contagious member.
_Esq._ Using th' authority th' Superior
Hath given unto me, I untie this knot,
And take from thee the pleasing yoak of heaven:
We take from off thy breast this holy cross
Which thou hast made thy burthen, not thy prop;
Thy spurs we spoil thee of, leaving thy heels
Bare of thy honor, that have kick'd against
Our Orders precepts: next we reave thy sword,
And give thee armless to thy enemies,
For being foe to goodness, and to Heaven,
Last, 'bout thy stiff neck, we this halter hang,
And leave thee to the mercy of thy Court.
_Val._ Invest _Miranda_.
SONG.
_Fair child of virtue, honors bloom_
_That here with burning zeal dost come_
_With joy to ask the white cross cloak,_
_And yield unto this pleasing yoak_
_That being young, vows chastity,_
_And choosest wilful poverty;_
_As this flame mounts, so mount thy zeal, thy glory_
_Rise past the Stars, and fix in Heaven thy story._
_1 Bish._ Wha[t] crave you, gentle Sir?
_Mir._ Humble admittance
To be a brother of the holy Hospital
Of great _Jerusalem_.
_2 Bish._ Breathe out your vow.
_Mir._ To heaven, and all the bench of Saints above
Whose succor I implore t' enable me,
I vow henceforth a chaste life, not to enjoy
Any thing proper to my self; obedience
To my Superiors, whom Religion,
And Heaven shall give me: ever to defend
The virtuous fame of Ladies, and to oppugne
Even unto death the _Christian_ enemy,
This do I vow to accomplish.
_Esq._ Who can tell,
Has he made other vow, or promis'd marriage
To any one, or is in servitude?
_All._ He's free from all these.
_1 Bish._ Put on his spurs, and girt him with the sword,
The scourge of Infidels, and tipes of speed.
Buildst thy faith on this?
_Mir._ On him that dy'd
On such a sacred figure, for our sins.
_2 Bish._ Here, then we fix it on thy left side, for
Thy increase of faith, _Christian_ defence, and service
To th' poor, and thus near to thy heart we plant it
That thou maist love it even with all thy heart,
With thy right hand protect, preserve it whole,
For if thou fighting 'gainst heavens enemies
Shalt flie away, abandoning the cross
The Ensign of thy holy General,
With shame thou justly shalt be robb'd of it
Chas'd from our company, and cut away
As an infectious putrified limb.
_Mir._ I ask no favour.
_1 Bish._ Then receive the yoak
Of him that makes it sweet, and light, in which,
Thy soul find her eternal rest.
_Val._ Most welcome.
_All._ Welcome, our noble Brother.
_Val._ Break up the Court; _Mountferrat_, though your deeds
Conspiring 'gainst the lives of innocents
Hath forfeited your own, we will not stain
Our white cross with your blood: your doom is then
To marry this coagent of your mischiefs
Which done, we banish you the continent,
If either, after three daies here be found
The hand of Law laies hold upon your lives.
_Nor._ Away _French_ stallion, now you have a _Barbary_ mare
Of your own, go leap her, and engender young devilings.
_Val._ We will find something noble _Norandine_
To quit your merit: so to civil feasts,
According to our customs; and all pray
The dew of grace, bless our new Knight to day. [_Exeunt._
Loves Cure, or the Martial Maid
A COMEDY.
The Persons Represented in the Play.
Assistant, _or Governor_.
Vitelli, _a young Gentleman, enemy to_ Alvarez.
Lamoral, _a fighting Gallant, friend to_ Vitelli.
Anastro, _an honest Gentleman, friend to_ Vitelli.
Don Alvarez, _a noble Gent. Father to_ Lucio, _and_ Clara.
Siavedra, _a friend to_ Alvarez.
Lucio, _Son to_ Alvarez, _a brave young Gent, in womans habit_.
Alguazeir, _a sharking panderly Constable_.
Pachieco, _a Cobler_, }
Mendoza, _a Botcher_, } _of worship_.
Metaldie, _a Smith_, }
Lazarillo, Pachieco _his hungry servant_.
Bobbadilla, _a witty knave, servant to_ Eugenia, _and Steward
vant to_ Alvarez.
Herald.
Officer.
WOMEN.
Eugenia, _a virtuous Lady, wife to Don_ Alvarez.
Clara, _Daughter to_ Eugenia, _a martial Maid, valiant and
chaste, enamoured of_ Vitelli.
Genevora, _Sister to_ Vitelli, _in love with_ Lucio.
Malroda, _a wanton Mis[tr]iss of_ Vitelli.
The Scene Sevil.
A PROLOGUE
At the reviving of this PLAY.
_Statues and Pictures challenge price and fame;_
_If they can justly boast, and prove they came_
_From_ Phidias _or_ Apelles. _None denie,_
_Poets and Painters hold a sympathy;_
_Yet their works may decay, and lose their grace,_
_Receiving blemish in their Limbs or Face._
_When the Minds Art has this preheminence,_
_She still retaineth her first excellence._
_Then why should not this dear Piece be esteem'd_
_Child to the richest fancies that e'r teem'd?_
_When not their meanest off-spring, that came forth,_
_But bore the image of their Fathers worth._
Beaumonts, _and_ Fletchers, _whose desert out-wayes_
_The best applause, and their least sprig of B[a]yes_
_Is worthy_ Phæbus; _and who comes to gather_
_Their fruits of wit, he shall not rob the treasure._
_Nor can you ever surfeit of the plenty,_
_Nor can you call them rare, though they be dainty._
_The more you take, the more you do them right,_
_And we will thank you for your own delight._
_Actus Primus. Scæna Prima._
_Enter_ Vitelli, Lamoral, Anastro.
_Vit. Alvarez_ pardon'd?
_Ana._ And return'd
_Lamo._ I saw him land
At _St. Lucars_, and such a general welcome,
Fame as harbinger to his brave actions,
Had with the easie people, prepar'd for him,
As if by his command alone, and fortune
_Holland_, with those low Provinces, that hold out
Against the Arch-Duke, were again compell'd
With their obedience to give up their lives
To be at his Devotion.
_Vit._ You amaze me,
For though I have heard, that when he fled from _Sevil_
To save his life (th[e]n forfeited to Law
For murth'ring Don _Pedro_ my dear Uncle)
His extream wants enforc'd him to take pay
I'th' Army, sate down then before _Ostend_,
'Twas never yet reported, by whose favour
He durst presume to entertain a thought
Of coming home with pardon.
_Ana._ 'Tis our nature
Or not to hear, or not to give belief
To what we wish far from our enemies.
_Lam._ Sir, 'tis most certain, the _Infanta_'s Letters
Assisted by the Arch-Dukes, to King _Philip_,
Have not alone secur'd him from the rigor
Of our _Castilian_ Justice, but return'd him
A free man and in grace.
_Vi[t]._ By what curs'd means
Could such a fugitive arise unto
The knowledge of their Highnesses? much more
(Though known) to stand but in the least degree
Of favour with them?
_Lam._ To give satisfaction
To your demand, though to praise him I hate,
Can yield me small contentment, I will tell you,
And truly, since should I detract his worth,
'Twould argue want of merit in my self.
Briefly to pass his tedious pilgrimage
For sixteen years, a banish'd guilty man,
And to forget the storms, th' affrights, the horrors
His constancy, not fortune, overcame,
I bring him, with his little son, grown man
(Though 'twas said here, he took a Daughter with him)
To _Ostend_'s bloody siege that stage of war,
Wherein the flower of many Nations acted,
And the whole Christian world spectators were;
There by his Son, or were he by adoption,
Or nature his, a brave Scene was presented,
Which I make choice to speak of, since from that
The good success of _Alvarez_, had beginning.
_Vi[t]._ So I love virtue in an enemy
That I desire in the relation of
This young mans glorious deed, you'ld keep your self
A friend to truth, and it.
_Lam._ Such was my purpose;
The Town being oft assaulted, but in vain,
To dare the proud defendents to a sally,
Weary of ease, Don _Inigo Peralta_,
Son to the General of our _Castile_ forces,
All arm'd, advanc'd within shot of their Walls,
From whence the Musquetiers plaid thick upon him,
Yet he (brave youth) as careless of the danger,
As careful of his honor, drew his sword,
And waving it about his head, as if
He dar'd one spirited like himself, to trial
Of single valor, he made his retreat
With such a slow, and yet majestique pace,
As if he still call'd loud, dare none come on?
When sodainly, from a postern of the Town
Two gallant horsemen issued, and o'ertook him,
The Army looking on, yet not a man
That durst relieve the rash adventurer,
Which _Lucio_, son to _Alvarez_ then seeing,
As in the Vant-guard he sate bravely mounted,
Or were it pity of the youths misfortune,
Care to preserve the honor of his Countrey,
Or bold desire to get himself a name,
He made his brave Horse like a whirlwind bear him,
Among the Combatants: and in a moment
Discharg'd his Petronel, with such sure aim
That of the adverse party from his horse,
One tumbled dead, then wheeling round, and drawing
A Faulcion, swift as lightning he came on
Upon the other, and with one strong blow,
In view of the amazed Town, and Camp,
He struck him dead, and brought _Peralta_ off
With double honor to himself.
_Vit._ 'Twas brave:
But the success of this?
_Lam._ The Camp receiv'd him
With acclamations of joy and welcome,
And for addition to the fair reward
Being a massy chain of Gold given to him
By young _Peralta_'s Father, he was brought
To the Infanta's presence, kiss'd her hand,
And from that Lady, (greater in her goodness
Than her high birth) had this encouragement:
Go on young man; yet not to feed thy valour
With hope of recompence to come, from me,
For present satisfaction of what's past,
Ask any thing that's fit for me to give,
And thee to take, and be assur'd of it.
_Ana._ Excellent Princess.
_Vit._ And stil'd worthily
The heart-bloud, nay the Soul of Soldiers.
But what was his request?
_Lam._ That the repeal
Of _Alvarez_ makes plain: he humbly begg'd
His Fathers pardon, and so movingly
Told the sad story of your Uncles death
That the _Infanta_ wept, and instantly
Granting his suit, working the Arch-Duke to it,
Their Letters were directed to the King,
With whom they so prevail'd, that _Alvarez_
Was freely pardon'd.
_Vit._ 'Tis not in the King
To make that good.
_Ana._ Not in the King? what subject
Dares contradict his power?
_Vit._ In this I dare,
And will: and not call his prerogative
In question, nor presume to limit it.
I know he is [the] Master of his Laws,
And may forgive the forfeits made to them,
But not the injury done to my honor;
And since (forgetting my brave Uncles merits
And many services, under Duke _D' Alva_)
He suffers him to fall, wresting from Justice
The powerful sword, that would revenge his death,
I'll fill with this _Astrea_'s empty hand,
And in my just wreak, make this arm the Kings,
My deadly hate to _Alvarez_, and his house,
Which as I grew in years, hath still encreas'd,
As if it call'd on time to make me man,
Slept while it had no object for her fury
But a weak woman, and her talk'd of Daughter:
But now, since there are quarries, worth her sight
Both in the father, and his hopeful son,
I'll boldly cast her off, and gorge her full
With both their hearts: to further which, your friendship,
And oaths: will your assistance, let your deeds
Make answer to me: useless are all words
Till you have writ performance with your swords.
[_Exeunt._
_Scæna Secunda._
_Enter_ Bobadilla _and_ Lucio.
_Luc._ Go fetch my work: this Ruffe was not well starch'd,
So tell the maid, 't has too much blew in it,
And look you that the Partridge and the Pullen
Have clean meat, and fresh water, or my Mother
Is like to hear on't.
_Bob._ Oh good _St. Jaques_ help me: was there ever such
an Hermaphrodite heard of? would any wench living, that
should hear and see what I do, be wrought to believe, that
the best of a man lies under this Petticoat, and that a Codpiece
were far fitter here, than a Pinn'd Placket?
_Luc._ You had best talk filthily: do; I have a tongue
To tell my Mother, as well as ears to hear
Your ribaldry.
_Bob._ Nay you have ten womens tongues that way I am
sure: why my young Master or Mistriss, Madam, Don, or
what you will, what the devil have you to do with Pullen,
or Partridge? or to sit pricking on a clout all day? you have
a better needle, I know, and might make better work, if you
had grace to use it.
_Luc._ Why, how dare you speak this before me, sirrah?
_Bob._ Nay rather, why dare not you do what I speak?--though
my Lady your mother, for fear of _Vitelli_ and his
faction, hath brought you up like her Daughter, and has kept
you these 20 years, which is ever since you were born, a close
prisoner within doors, yet since you are a man, and are as
well provided as other men are, methinks you should have
the same motions of the flesh, as other Cavaliers of us are
inclin'd unto.
_Luc._ Indeed you have cause to love those wanton motions,
They having hope you to an excellent whipping,
For doing something, I but put you in mind of it,
With the _Indian_ Maid, the Governor sent my mother
From _Mexico_.
_Bob._ Why, I but taught her a _Spanish_ trick in charity,
and holpe the King to a subject that may live to take _Grave_
_Maurice_ prisoner, and that was more good to the State, than a
thousand such as you are ever like to doe: and I will tell you,
(in a fatherly care of the Infant I speak it) if he live (as
bless the babe, in passion I remember him) to your years, shall
he spend his time in pinning, painting, purling, and perfuming
as you do? no, he shall to the wars, use his _Spanish_ Pike,
though with the danger of the lash, as his father has done,
and when he is provoked, as I am now, draw his _Toledo_
desperately, as--
_Luc._ You will not kill me? oh.
_Bob._ I knew this would silence him: how he hides his eies!
If he were a wench now, as he seems, what an advantage
Had I, drawing two _Toledo_'s, when one can do this!
But oh me, my Lady: I must put up: young Master
I did but jest: Oh custom, what hast thou made of him?
_Enter_ Eugenia _and Servants_.
_Eug._ For bringing this, be still my friend; no more
A servant to me.
_Bo[b]._ What's the matter?
_Eug._ Here,
Even here, where I am happy to receive
Assurance of my _Alvarez_ return,
I will kneel down: and may those holy thoughts
That now possess me wholly, make this place
A Temple to me, where I may give thanks
For this unhop'd for blessing Heavens kind hand
Hath pour'd upon me.
_Luc._ Let my duty Madam
Presume, if you have cause of joy, to intreat
I may share in it.
_Bob._ 'Tis well, he has forgot how I frighted him yet.
_Eug._ Thou shalt: but first kneel with me _Lucio_,
No more _Posthumia_ now, thou hast a Father,
A Father living to take off that name,
Which my too credulous fears, that he was dead,
Bestow'd upon thee: thou shalt see him _Lucio_
And make him young again, by seeing thee,
Who only hadst a being in my Womb
When he went from me, _Lucio_: Oh my joyes,
So far transport me, that I must forget
The ornaments of Matrons, modesty,
And grave behaviour; but let all forgive me
If in th' expression of my soul's best comfort
Though old, I do a while forget mine age
And play the wanton in the entertainment
Of those delights I have so long despair'd of.
_Luc._ Shall I then see my Father?
_Eug._ This hour _Lucio_;
Which reckon the beginning of thy life
I mean that life, in which thou shalt appear
To be such as I brought thee forth, a man,
This womanish disguise, in which I have
So long conceal'd thee, thou shalt now cast off,
And change those qualities thou didst learn from me,
For masculine virtues, for which seek no tutor,
But let thy fathers actions be thy precepts;
And for thee _Zancho_, now expect reward
For thy true service.
_Bob._ Shall I? you hear fellow _Stephano_, learn to know
me more respectively; how dost thou think I shall become
the Stewards chair, ha? will not these slender hanches show
well with a chain, and a gold night-Cap after supper, when
I take the accompts?
_Eug._ Haste, and take down those Blacks with which my chamber
Hath like the widow, her sad Mistriss mourn'd,
And hang up for it, the rich _Persian_ Arras,
Us'd on my wedding night, for this to me
Shall be a second marriage: send for Musique,
And will the Cooks to use their best of cunning
To please the palat.
_Bob._ Will your Ladyship have a Potato-pie, 'tis a good
stirring dish for an old Lady, after a long _Lent_.
_Eug._ Begone I say: why Sir, you can goe faster?
_Bob._ I could Madam: but I am now to practise the
Stewards pace, that's the reward I look for: every man must
fashion his gate, according to his calling: you fellow _Stephano_,
may walk faster, to overtake preferment: so, usher me.
_Luc._ Pray Madam, let the wastcoat I last wrought
Be made up for my Father: I will have
A Cap, and Boot-hose sutable to it.
_Eug._ Of that
We'll think hereafter _Lucio_: our thoughts now
Must have no object but thy Fathers welcome,
To which thy help--
_Luc._ With humble gladness, Madam. [_Exeunt._
_Scæna Tertia._
_Enter_ Alvarez, Clara.
_Alv._ Where lost we _Syavedra_?
_Cla._ He was met
Ent'ring the City by some Gentlemen
Kinsmen, as he said of his own, with whom
For compliment sake (for so I think he term'd it)
He was compell'd to stay: though I much wonder
A man that knows to do, and has done well
In the head of his troop, when the bold foe charg'd home,
Can learn so sodainly to abuse his time
In apish entertainment: for my part
(By all the glorious rewards of war)
I had rather meet ten enemies in the field
All sworn to fetch my head, than be brought on
To change an hours discourse with one of these
Smooth City-fools, or Tissue-Cavaliers,
The only Gallants, as they wisely think,
To get a Jewel, or a wanton Kiss
From a Court-lip, though painted.
_Alv._ My Love _Clara_,
(For _Lucio_ is a name thou must forget
With _Lucio_'s bold behaviour) though thy breeding
I' th' Camp, may plead something in the excuse
Of thy rough manners, custom having chang'd,
Though not thy Sex, the softness of thy nature,
And fortune (then a cruel stepdame to thee)
Impos'd upon thy tender sweetness, burthens
Of hunger, cold, wounds, want, such as would crack
The sinews of a man, not born a Soldier:
Yet now she smiles, and like a natural mother
Looks gently on thee, _Clara_, entertain
Her proffer'd bounties with a willing bosom;
Thou shalt no more have need to use thy sword;
Thy beauty (which even _Belgia_ hath not alter'd)
Shall be a stronger guard, to keep my _Clara_,
Than that has been, (though never us'd but nobly)
And know thus much.
_Cla._ Sir, I know only that
It stands not with my duty to gain-say you,
In any thing: I must, and will put on
What fashion you think best: though I could wish
I were what I appear.
_Alv._ Endeavour rather [_Musick._
To be what you are, _Clara_, entring here,
As you were born, a woman.
_Enter_ Eugenia, Lucio, _Servants_.
_Eug._ Let choice Musick
In the best voice that e'er touch'd humane ear,
For joy hath ti'd my tongue up, speak your welcome.