_Gent._ See happily some of our Galley souldiers
Are come ashoar.
_1. Attend._ Come on Sir, you shall see
Faces enough.
_Gent._ Some one of you call to
_Enter certain Townsmen._
Our General, the whole rore of the Town
Comes in upon us.
_Marc._ I have seen Sir better
Perhaps, than that was cover'd; and will yet
_Enter_ Philippo, Theodosia, _and_ Leocadia.
See that, or spoil yours.
_Phil._ On, why start you back?
_Theo._ Alass Sir, they are fighting.
_Leoc._ Let's begon,
See, see, a handsome man strook down.
_Gent._ Ho General,
Look out, _Antonio_ is in distress.
_Enter_ Rodorigo _above_.
_Theo. Antonio._
_Leoc. Antonio!_ 'tis he.
_Rod. within._ Ho, Gunner make a shot into the Town,
I'll part you: bring away _Antonio_ [_a shot._
Into my Cabben. [_Exit Attendants and Townsmen._
_Gent._ I will do that office.
I fear it is the last, that I shall do him.
[_Exit Souldiers and Gentlemen with_ Marckantonio.
_Theo._ The last, why will he dye?
_Leoc._ Since I have found him: happiness leave me,
When I leave him.
_Phil._ Why _Theodosia_?
My sister; wake: alass, I griev'd but now
To see the streets so full; and now I grieve
To see them left so empty: I could wish,
Tumult himself were here, that yet at least
Amongst the band, I might espie some face
So pale and fearful, that would willingly
Embrace an arrand for a Cordial,
Or _Aquavitæ_, or a cup of sack,
Or a Physitian: but to talk of these
She breaths: stand up, O _Theodosia_,
Speak but as thou wert wont, give but a sigh,
Which is but the most unhappy piece of life,
And I will ever after worship sadness,
Apply my self to grief; prepare and build
Altars to sorrow.
_Theo._ O _Philippo_, help me.
_Phil._ I do; these are my arms, _Philippo_'s arms,
Thy Brothers arms that hold thee up.
_Theo._ You help me
To life: but I would see _Antonio_
That's dead.
_Phil._ Thou shalt see any thing; how dost thou?
_Theo._ Better, I thank you.
_Phil._ Why that's well: call up
Thy senses, and uncloud thy cover'd spirits.
How now?
_Theo._ Recover'd: but _Antonio_,
Where is he?
_Phil._ We will find him: art thou well?
_Theo._ Perfectly well, saving the miss of him;
And I do charge you here, by our allyance,
And by the love which would have been betwixt us,
Knew we no kindred; by that killing fear,
Mingled with twenty thousand hopes and doubts,
Which you may think, plac'd in a Lovers heart,
And in a Virgins too, when she wants help,
To grant me your assistance, to find out
This man alive, or dead; and I will pay you
In service, tears, or prayers, a world of wealth:
But other treasure, I have none: alas!
You men have strong hearts; but we feeble maids
Have tender eyes, which only given be
To blind themselves, crying for what they see.
_Phil._ Why do'st thou charge me thus? have I been found
Slow to perform, what I could but imagine
Thy wishes were; have I at any time
Tender'd a business of mine own, beyond
A vanity of thine? have I not been
As if I were a sensless creature, made
To serve thee without pow'r of questioning,
If so, why fear'st thou?
_Theo._ I am satisfied.
_Phil._ Come; then let's go: where's _Leocadia_?
_Theo._ I know not Sir.
_Phil._ Where's _Leocadia_?
_Theo._ I do not know.
_Phil. Leocadia_,
This Tumult made the streets as dead as night,
A man may talk as freely: what's become
Of _Leocadia_?
_Theo._ She's run away.
_Phil._ Begone, and let us never more behold
Each others face, till we may, both together,
Fasten our eyes on her: accursed be
Those tender cozening names of charity,
And natural affection, they have lost
Me only by observing them, what cost
Travel, and fruitless wishes may in vain
Search through the world, but never find again.
_Theo._ Good Sir be patient, I have done no fault
Worthy this banishment.
_Phil._ Yes _Leocadia_,
The Lady so distress'd, who was content
To lay her story, and to lay her heart
As open as her story to your self,
Who was content, that I should know her Sex,
Before dissembl'd and to put her self
Into my conduct, whom I undertook
Safely to guard, is in this Tumult lost.
_Theo._ And can I help it Sir?
_Phil._ No, would thou couldst,
You might have done, but for that zeald religion
You women bear to swownings, you do pick
Your times to faint when some body is by:
Bound or by nature, or by love, or service
To raise you from that well dissembled death:
Inform me but of one that has been found
Dead in her private chamber by her self,
Where sickness would no more forbear, than here,
And I will quit the rest for her.
_Theo._ I know not
What they may do, and how they may dissemble;
But by my troth, I did not.
_Phil._ By my troth,
Would I had try'd; would I had let thee layn,
And followed her.
_Theo._ I would you had done so
Rather, than been so angry: where's _Antonio_?
_Phil._ Why do'st thou vex me with these questions?
I'll tell thee where, he's carried to the Galleys,
There to be chain'd, and row, and beat, and row
With knotted ropes, and pizzels; if he swound,
He has a dose of bisket.
_Theo._ I am glad
He is alive.
_Phil._ Was ever man thus troubled,
Tell me where _Leocadia_ is?
_Theo._ Good brother be not so hasty, and I think I can:
You found no error in me, when I first
Told you she was a woman, and believe me
Something I have found out, which makes me think,
Nay, almost know so well, that I durst swear
She follow'd hurt _Antonio_.
_Phil._ What do we
_Enter the Governor, two Attendants, and the Townsmen._
Then lingring here; we will aboard the Galleys
And find her.
_Gov._ Made he a shot into the Town?
_1. Attend._ He did Sir.
_Gov._ Call back those Gentlemen.
_1. Attend._ The Governor, commands you back.
_Phil._ We will obey him Sir.
_Gov._ You gave him cause to shoot; I know, he is
So far from rash offence, and holds with me
Such curious friendship: could not one of you
Have call'd me while 'twas doing, such an uproar,
Before my dore too?
_1. Towns._ By my troth Sir, we were so busy in the publick
cause, of our own
Private falling out: that we forgot it: at home we see now
You were not, but as soon as the shot made us fly, we ran
Away as fast as we could to seek your honor.
_Gov._ 'Twas gravely done; but no man tells the cause
Or chance, or what it was that made you differ.
_1. Towns._ For my part Sir, if there were any that I knew
Of, the shot drove it out of my head, do you know any neighbours?
_All._ Not we, not we.
_Gov._ Not we! nor can you tell.
_1. Attend._ No other cause,
But the old quarrel betwixt the Town and the Galleys.
_Gov._ Come nearer Gentlemen: what are your names?
_Phil._ My name _Philippo_.
_Theo._ And mine _Theodoro_.
_Gov._ Strangers you are it seems.
_Phil._ Newly arriv'd.
_Gov._ Then you are they begun this Tumult.
_Phil._ No Sir.
_[G]ov._ Speak one of you.
_1. Attend._ They are not, I can quit 'em.
_Theo._ Yet we saw part, and an unhappy part
Of this debate, a long sought friend of ours
Strook down for dead, and born unto the Galleys,
His name is _Mark-antonio_.
_Phil._ And another
Of our company, a Gentleman
Of noble birth, besides accompanyed
With all the gifts of nature, ravish'd hence
We know not how, in this dissention.
_Gov._ Get you home all, and work; and when I hear
You meddle with a weapon any more
But those belonging to your Trades, I'll lay you
Where your best Customers shall hardly find you. [_Exit Townsmen._
I am sorry gentlemen, I troubled you,
Being both strangers, by your tongues, and looks,
Of worth: To make ye some part of amends
If there be any thing in this poor Town
Of _Barcelona_ that you would command,
Command me.
_Theo._ Sir, this wounded Gentleman,
If it might please you, if your pow'r and love
Extend so far, I would be glad to wish
Might be remov'd into the Town for cure:
The Galleys stay not, and his wound I know
Cannot endure a voyage.
_Gov._ Sir, he shall,
I warrant you: Go call me hither Sirrah,
One of my other Servants. [_Exit 1. attendan[t]._
_Phil._ And besides.
The Gentleman we lost, Signior _Francisco_,
Shall be render'd too.
_Enter a Servant._
_Gover._ And he Sir too: Go sirrah, bear this ring
To _Roderigo_, my most noble friend,
The General of the Galleys: Tell him this. [_Exit servant._
_Whispers to his Servant._
_Theo._ Now we shall have 'em both.
_Phil._ Blest be thy thoughts
For apprehending this: blest be thy breath
For uttering it.
_Gov._ Come Gentlemen, you shall
Enter my roof: and I will send for Surgeons,
And you shall see your friends here presently.
_Theo._ His name was _Mark-antonio_.
_Gover._ I know it,
And have sent word so.
_Phil._ Did you not forget
_Francisco's_ name?
_Gover._ Nor his: y'are truly welcome,
To talk about it more, were but to say
The same word often over: you are welcome. [_Exeunt._
_Scæna Secunda._
_Enter_ Mark-antonio, _carried,_ Leocadia _following; and the
Servant. 2 Soldiers carrying him._
_Serv._ This is the house Sir.
_Mar._ Enter it, I pray you,
For I am faint, although I think my wound
Be nothing. Soldiers, leave us now: I thank you.
_1. Sold._ Heaven send you health Sir.
_Serv._ Let me lead you in.
_Mark._ My wound's not in my feet; I shall entreat 'em
I hope to bear me so far. [_Exit._
_2. Sold._ How seriously these land men fled, when our General made a
Shot, as if he had been a warning to call 'em to their Hall.
_1. Sold._ I cannot blame 'em, What man have they now in the
Town, able to maintain a Tumult, or uphold a matter out
Of square if need be? O the quiet hurley burleys that I
Have seen in this Town, when we have fought four hours
Together, and not a man amongst us so impertinent or
Modest to ask why? but now the pillars that bare
Up this blessed Town in that regular debate, and
Scambling, are dead, the more's the pitty.
_2. Sold._ Old _Ignatio_ lives still.
_1. Sold._ Yes, I know him: he will do prettily well at a mans liver:
But where is there any man now living in the Town
That hath a steady hand, and understands _Anatomy_
Well? if it come to a particular matter of the lungs,
Or the spleen, why? alas _Ignatio_ is to seek; are
There any such men left as I have known, that
Would say they would hit you in this place? is there
Ever a good heartist, or a member-percer, or a
Small-gut man left in the Town, answer
Me that?
_2. Sold._ Mass, I think there be not.
_1. Sold._ No, I warrant thee. Come, come, 'tis time
We were at the Galleys. [_Exeunt._
_Enter_ Governor, Eugenia, Mark-antonio, Philippo, Theodosia,
Leocadia, _Attendants._
_Gover._ Sir, you may know by what I said already,
You may command my house; but I must beg
Pardon to leave you, if the publick business
Forc'd me not from you, I my self should call it
Unmannerly: but good Sir, do you give it
A milder name: it shall not be an hour
Ere I return.
_Mar[c]._ Sir, I was nere so poor
In my own thoughts, as that I want a means
To requite this with.
_Gov._ Sir, within this hour. [_Exit._
_Marc._ This the Lady that I quarrell'd for?
O lust if wounds cannot restrain thy power,
Let shame: nor do I feel my hurt at all,
Nor is it ought, only I was well beaten:
If I pursue it, all the civil world
That ever did imagine the content
Found in the band of man and wife unbroke,
The reverence due to housholds, or the blemish
That may be stuck upon posterity
Will catch me, bind me, burn upon my forehead,
This is the wounded stranger, that receiv'd
For charity into a house, attempted--
I will not do it.
_Eug._ Sir, how do you do now?
That you walk off.
_Marc._ Worse Madam, than I was;
But it will over.
_Eug._ Sit, and rest a while.
_Marc._ Where are the Surgeons?
_Eug._ Sir, it is their manner,
When they have seen the wound especially,
The patient being of worth, to go consult,
Which they are now at in another room,
About the dressing.
_Marc._ Madam, I do feel my self not well.
_Theo._ Alass!
_Leoc._ How do you Sir.
_Eug._ Will you drink waters?
_Marc._ No good Madam, 'tis not
So violent upon me; nor I think
Any thing dangerous: but yet there are
Some things that sit so heavy on my conscience,
That will perplex my mind, and stop my cure,
So that unless I utter 'em. A scratch
Here on my thumb will kill me: Gentlemen,
I pray you leave the room, and come not in
Your selves, or any other till I have
Open'd my self to this most honour'd Lady.
_Phil._ We will not.
_Theo._ O blest! he will discover now
His love to me.
_Leoc._ Now he will tell the Lady
Our Contract. [_Exit._
_Eug._ I do believe he will confess to me
The wrong he did a Lady in the streets;
But I forgive him.
_Marc._ Madam, I perceive
My self grow worse and worse.
_Eug._ Shall I call back your friends?
_Marc._ O no, but e'r I do impart
What burthens me so sore, let me intreat you,
(For there is no trust in these Surgeons)
To look upon my wound; it is perhaps
My last request: But tell me truely too,
That must be in: how far do you imagine
It will have pow'r upon me.
_Eug._ Sir, I will.
_Marc._ For heavens sake, softly: oh, I must needs lay
My head down easily, whilst you do it.
_Eug._ Do Sir,
'Tis but an ordinary blow; a child
Of mine has had a greater, and been well;
Are you faint hearted?
_Marc._ Oh.
_Eug._ Why do you sigh?
There is no danger in the world in this;
I wonder it should make a man sit down;
What do you mean, why do you kiss my breasts?
Lift up your head, your wound, may well endure it.
_Mar._ O Madam, may I not express affection,
Dying-affection too I fear, to those
That do me favors, such as this of yours.
_Eug._ If you mean so, 'tis well; but what's the business
Lies on your conscience?
_Mar._ I will tell you Madam.
_Eug._ Tell me and laugh?
_Mar._ But I will tell you true
Though I do laugh, I know as well as you
My wound is nothing, nor the power of earth
Could lay a wound upon me in your presence,
That I could feel; but I do laugh to think
How covertly, how far beyond the reach
Of men, and wise men too, we shall deceive 'em,
Whilst they imagine I am talking here
With that short breath I have, ready to swound
At every full point; you my ghostly Mother
To hear my sad confession, you and I
Will on that bed within, prepar'd for me,
Debate the matter privately.
_Eug._ Forbear,
Thou wert but now as welcome to this house
As certain cures to sick men, and just now
This sudain alteration makes thee look
Like plagues come to infect it; if thou knewst
How loathsome thou wilt be, thou wouldst intreat
These wals, or posts to help thee to a hurt,
Past thy d[i]ssimulation.
_Mar._ Gentle Madam
Call 'em not in?
_Eug._ I will not yet, this place
I know to be within the reach of tongue,
And ears, thou canst not force me; therefore hear me
What I will tell thee quickly, thou art born
To end some way more disesteem'd than this,
Or which is worse, to dye of this hurt yet.
Come Gentlemen.
_Enter_ Leocadia.
_Mar._ Good Madam.
_Eug._ Gentlemen.
_Leoc._ Madam how is't? is _Mark-antonio_ well?
Methinks your looks are alter'd, and I see
A strange distemper in you.
_Eug._ I am wrought
By that dissembling man, that fellow worth
Nothing but kicking.
_Enter_ Philippo _and_ Theodosia.
_Leo._ Gentle Madam speak
To me alone let not them understand
His fault, he will repent [it] I dare swear.
_Eug._ I'll tell it you in private.
_Phil. Mark-antonio_,
How do you?
_Mar._ Stand farther off I pray you
Give me some ayre.
_Theo._ Good Brother, will he scape,
The Surgeons say there is no danger.
_Phil._ Scape?
No doubt he will.
_Leo._ Alas will he not leave
This trying all; Madam, I do beseech you
Let me but speak to him, you and these by,
And I dare almost promise you to make him
Shew himself truly sorrowful to you, besides a story I shall
open to you,
Not put in so good words but in it self
So full of chance, that you will easily
Forgive my tediousness, and be well pleas'd
With that so much afflicts me.
_Eug._ Good Sir do.
_Leo._ And I desire no interruption
Of speech may trouble me till I have said
What I will quickly do.
_Theo._ What will she say.
_Eug._ Come Gentlemen, I pray you lend your ears,
And keep your voyces.
_Leo._ Signior _Mark-antonio_
How do you do?
_Mar._ Oh the Surgeons.
_Leoc._ Let me tell you
Who know as well as you, you do dissemble,
It is no time to do so; leave the thoughts
Of this vain world, forget your flesh and blood,
And make your spirit an untroubled way
To pass to what it ought.
_Mar._ Y're not in earnest?
Why I can walk Sir, and am well.
_Leoc._ 'Tis true
That you can walk, and do believe y're well:
It is the nature, as your Surgeons say
Of these wounds, for a man to go, and talk,
Nay merrily, till his last hour, his minute:
For heaven sake Sir, sit down again.
_Mar._ Alass
Where are the Surgeons?
_Leoc._ Sir, they will not come,
If they should dress you, you would dye they say
Ere one would tell twenty; trouble not your mind,
Keep your head warm, and do not stir your body,
And you may live an hour.
_Mar._ Oh heavens, an hour?
Alass, it is to[o] little t[o] remember
But half the wrongs that I have done; how short
Then for contrition, and how least of all
For satisfaction?
_Leo._ But you desire
To satisfie?
_Mar._ Heaven knows I do.
_Leo._ Then know
That I am he, or she, or what you will
Most wrong'd by you; your _Leocadia_,
I know you must remember me.
_Mar._ Oh heaven!
_Le[o]._ That lost her friends, that lost her fathers house,
That lost her fame in loosing of her Sex,
With these strange garments, there is no excuse
To hinder me, it is within your power
To give me satisfaction; you have time
Left in this little piece of life to do it:
Therefore I charge you for your conscience sake,
And for our fame, which I would fain have live
When both of us are dead, to celebrate
That Contract; which you have both seal'd and sworn
Yet ere you dye, which must be hastily
Heaven knows.
_Mar._ Alass, the sting of conscience
To death-ward for our faults; draw nearer all
And hear what I unhappy man shall say;
First Madam I desire your pardon; next
(I feel my spirits fail me) Gentlemen
Let me shake hands with you, and let's be friends,
For I have done wrong upon wrong so thick
I know not where, that every man methinks
Should be mine enemy; Forgive me both.
Lastly 'tis true (oh I do feel the power
Of death seize on me) that I was contracted
By seal and oath to _Leocadia_;
(I must speak fast, because I fear my life
Will else be shorter than my speech would be)
But 'tis impossible to satisfie
You _Leocadia_, but by repentance,
Though I can dyingly, and boldly say
I know not your dishonor, yet that was
Your virtue, and not mine, you know it well;
But herein lies th' impossibility,
O _Theodosia_, _Theodosia_
I was betroth'd to _Theodosia_
Before I ever saw thee; heaven forgive me
She is my wife this half hour whilst I live.
_Theo._ That's I, that's I, I'm _Theodosia_,
Hear me a little now, who have not suffer'd
Disgrace at all methinks, since you confess
What I so long have sought for, here is with me
_Philippo_ too my Brother.
_Mar._ I am glad;
All happiness to him; come let me kiss thee
Beg pardon of that Maid for my offence,
And let me farther, with a dying breath
Tell in thine ear the rest of my desires.
_Eug._ I am afraid they will all four turn women
If we hold longer talk.
_Leoc._ Alass there is
No hope for me; that's _Theodosia_
And that her Brother, I am only sorry
I was beholding to 'em; I will search
Over the world, as careless of my fortunes,
As they of me, till I can meet a curse
To make these almost killing-sorrows worse. [_Exit._
_Theo._ Sir, as I live she ly'd, only to draw
A just confession from you, which she hath
A happy one for me, ask of this Lady,
Ask of my Brother.
_Eug._ Sir, she did dissemble,
Your wound is nothing.
_Phil. Leocadia_'s gone. [_Exit._
_Theo._ Rise up, and stir your self, 'tis but amazement
And your imagination that afflicts you,
Look you Sir now.
_Mar._ I think 'tis so indeed.
_Theo._ The Surgeons do not come, because they swear
It needs no dressing.
_Eug._ You shall talk with 'em
Within, for your own fancy.
_Mar._ Where's your Brother, and _Leocadia_?
_Eug._ Within belike.
_Mar._ I feel my self methinks as well as ever.
_Eug._ Keep then your mind so too; I do forgive
The fault you did to me; But here is one
Must not be wrong'd hereafter.
_Mar._ Neither shall she
When I make jests of oaths again, or make
My lust play with religion, when I leave
To keep true joys for her, and yet within
My self true sorrow for my passed deeds
May I want grace, when I would fain repent,
And find a great and sodain punishment. [_Exeunt._
_Actus V. Scæna Prima._
_Enter_ Philippo, Diego, _and_ Incubo.
_Phil._ Where is mine Host, did not he see him neither?
_Die._ Not I, i'faith Sir.
_Phil._ Nor the muleter?
_Inc._ Nay he is past seeing, unless it be in's sleep,
By this time; all his visions were the pots,
Three hours since Sir.
_Phil._ Which way should she take?
Nay, look you now; do you all stand still? good Heaven
You might have lighted on him, now this instant?
For loves sake see[k] him out, who ever find him
I will reward his fortune as his diligence;
Get all the Town to help, that will be hir'd,
Their pains I'll turn to annual holiday,
If it shall chance, but one bring word of her,
Pray you about it.
_Inc._ Her Sir? who do you mean?
_Phil._ (I had forgot my self) the Page I meant
That came along with us.
_Die._ He you gave the clothes too?
_Phil._ I ga' the clothes to; Rascal?
_Die._ Nay good Sir.
_Phi._ Why dost thou mention or upbraid my courtesies
Slave?
_Die._ For your honor Sir.
_Phi._ Wretch; I was honor'd,
That she would wear 'em (he, I would say) 's death?
Go, get, and find 'em out, or never see me,
I shall betray my love e'r I possess it,
Some Star direct me, or ill Planet strike me. [_Exit_ Phil.
_Inc._ Best to divide.
_Die._ I'll this way.
_Inc._ And I this.
_Die._ I, as you, find him for a _Real_.
_Inc._ 'Tis done.
_Die._ My course is now directly to some Pie-house
I know the Pages compass.
_Inc._ I think rather
The smock-side o'th' Town, the surer harbor
At his years to put in.
_Die._ If I do find
The hungry haunt, I take him by the teeth now.
_Inc._ I by the tail, yet I as you.
_Die._ No more. [_E_]_xeunt._
_Scæna Secunda._
_Enter_ Philippo.
_Phi._ Dear _Leocadia_, where canst thou be fled
Thus like a spirit hence? and in a moment?
What cloud can hide thee from my following search
If yet thou art a body? sure she hath not
Tane any house? she did too late leave one
Where all humanity of a place receiv'd her,
And would, (if she had staid) have help'd to right
The wrong her fortune did her; yet she must
Be [inter'd] somewhere, or be found, no street,
Lane, passage, corner, turn, hath scap'd enquiry:
If her despair had ravish'd her to air
She could not yet be ratified so
But some of us should meet her? though their eyes
Perhaps be leaden, and might turn; mine would
Strike out a lightning for her, and divide
A mist as thick as ever darkness was,
Nay see her through a quarry; they do lye,
Lye grosly that say love is blind; by him,
And heaven they lye; he has a sight can pierce
Through Ivory, as cleer as it were horn,
And reach his object.
_Enter_ Incubo.
_Inc._ Sir, he's found, he's found.
_Phi._ Ha? where? But reach that happy Note again
And let it relish truth, thou art an Angel.
_Inc._ He's here; fast by Sir, calling for a Boat
To go aboard the Gallies.
_Phi._ Where, where; hold thee. [_Exit._
_Inc._ He might ha' kept this now, I had nought to shew for't,
If he had had the wit t' have gone from's word,
These direct men, they are no men of fashion,
Talk what you will, this is a very smelt. [_Exit._
_Scæna Tertia._
_Enter_ Leonardo _with a Surgeon._
_Leo._ Upon your Art Sir, and your faith to assist it
Shall I believe you then his wound's not mortal?
_Surg._ Sir, 'tis not worth your question; less your fear.
_Leo._ You doe restore me Sir, I pray you accept
This small remembrance of a fathers thanks
For so assur'd a benefit.
_Surg._ Excuse me.
_Leo._ Sir, I can spare it, and must not believe
But that your fortune may receiv't, except
You'ld ha' me think you live not by your practice.
_Sur._ I crave your pardon Sir; you teach me manners.
_Leo._ I crave your love and friendship, and require
As I have made now, both my self and business
A portion of your care, you will but bring me
Under the person of a call'd assistant
To his next opening, where I may but see him,
And utter a few words to him in private,
And you will merit me; for I am loth
Since here I have not to appear my self,
Or to be known unto the Governor,
Or make a tumult of my purpose.
_Surg._ Neither
I hope will be your need Sir; I shall bring you
Both there, and off again without the hazard. [_Exeunt._
_Scæna Quarta._
_Enter_ Philippo, _and_ Leocadia.
_Ph._ Will you not hear me!
_Leo._ I have heard so much
Will keep me deaf for ever; No, _Mark-antonio_
After thy sentence, I may hear no more,
Thou hast pronounc'd me dead.
_Phi._ Appeal to reason,
She will reprieve you from the power of grief,
Which rules but in her absence; Hear me say
A soveraign message from her, which in duty,
And love to your own safety, you ought hear:
Why do you strive so? whither would you flie?
You cannot wrest your self away from care
You may from counsel; you may shift your place
But not your person; and another Clyme
Makes you no other.
_Leo._ Oh.
_Phi._ For passions sake,
(Which I do serve, honor, and love in you)
If you will sigh, sigh here; If you would vary
A sigh to tears, or out-cry, do it here.
No shade, no desart, darkness, nor the grave
Shall be more equal to your thoughts than I,
Only but hear me speak.
_Leo._ What would you say?
_Phi._ That which shall raise your heart, or pull down mine,
Quiet your passion, or provoke mine own;
We must have both one balsome, or one wound,
For know (lov'd fair) since the first providence
Made me your rescue, I have read you through,
And with a wondring pity look'd on you,
I have observ'd the method of your blood,
And waited on it even with sympathy
Of a like Red, and Paleness in mine own;
I knew which blush was angers, which was loves,
Which was the eye of sorrow, which of truth:
And could distinguish honor from disdain
In every change: and you are worth my study;
I saw your voluntary misery
Sustain'd in travel: A disguis'd Maid
Wearied with seeking: and with finding lost,
Neglected, where you hop'd most, or put by;
I saw it, and have laid it to my heart,
And though it were my Sister which was righted,
Yet being by your wrong, I put off nature,
Could not be glad, where I [was] bound to triumph;
My care for you, so drown'd respect of her;
Nor did I only apprehend your bonds,
But studied your release: and for that day
Have I made up a ransom, brought [you] health
Preservative 'gainst chance, or injury
Please you apply it to the grief; my self.
_Leo._ Humph.
_Phi._ Nay, do not think me less than such a cure,
_Antonio_ was not; And 'tis possible
_Philippo_ may succeed: My bloud and house
Are as deep rooted: and as fairly spread,
As _Mark-antonio_['_s_], and in that, all seek,
Fortune hath given him no precedency:
As for our thanks to Nature I may burn
Incense as much as he; I ever durst
Walk with _Antonio_ by the self-same light
At any feast, or triumph, and ne'r car'd
Which side my Lady or her woman took
In their survey; I durst have told my tale too
Though his discourse new ended.
_Leo._ My repulse.
_Phil._ Let not that torture you, w[h]ich makes me happy
Nor think that conscience (fair) which is no shame
'Twas no repulse, [I] was your Dowry rather:
For then methought a thousand graces met
To make you lovely, and ten thousand stories
Of constant virtue, which you then out-reach'd,
In one example did proclaim you rich:
Nor do I think you wretched, or disgrac'd,
After this suffering, and do therefore take
Advantage of your need; but rather know
You are the charge and business of those powers,
Who, like best Tutors, do inflict hard tasks
Upon great Natures, and of noblest hopes;
Read trivial Lessons, and halfe lines to sluggs;
They that live long, and never feel mischance,
Spend more than halfe their age in ignorance.
_Leo._ 'Tis well you think so.
_Phi._ You shall think so too,
You shall sweet _Leocadia_, and do so.
_Leo._ Good Sir no more; you have too fair a shape
To play so foul a part in, as the Tempter:
Say that I [could] make peace with fortune, who,
Who should absolve me of my vow yet; ha?
My Contract made?
_Phi._ Your Contract?
_Leo._ Yes, my Contract,
Am I not his? his wife?
_Phi._ Sweet, nothing less.
_Leo._ I have no name then?
_Phi._ Truly then you have not;
How can you be his wife, who was before
Anothers Husband?
_Leo._ Oh, though he dispence
With his faith given, I cannot with mine.
_Phi._ You do mistake (cleer soul) his precontract
Doth annul yours, and you have giv'n no faith
That ties you in Religion, or humanity,
You rather sin against that greater precept,
To covet what's anothers; Sweet, you do
Believe me, who dare not urge dishonest things,
Remove that scruple therefore, and but take
Your dangers now, into your judgements skale
And weigh them with your safeties: Think but whither
Now you can goe: what you can do to live?
How near you ha' barr'd all Ports [to] your own succor,
Except this one that I here open: Love
Should you be left alone, you were a prey
To the wild lust of any, who would look
Upon this shape like a temptation
And think you want the man you personate
Would not regard this shift, which love put on
As virtue forc'd, but covet it like vice;
So should you live the slander of each Sex,
And be the child of error and of shame,
And which is worse, even _Mark-antonie_
Would be call'd just, to turn a wanderer off,
And Fame report you worthy his contempt;
Where if you make new choice, and settle here
There is no further tumult in this flood,
Each current keeps his course, and all suspitions
Shall return honors: Came you forth a Maid?
Go home a Wife? alone? and in disguise?
Go home a waited _Leocadia_:
Go home, and by the vir[t]ue of that charm
Transform all mischiefs, as you are transform'd;
Turn your offended Fathers wrath to wonder,
A[n]d all his loud grief to a silent welcome:
Unfold the Riddles you have made, what say you?
_Enter_ Sanchio _carried,_ Alphonso, _and Servants._
Now is the time; delay is but despair,
If you be chang'd, let a kiss tell me so.
_Leo._ I am: but how, I rather feel than know.
_Sanc._ Come Sir; you are welcome now to _Barcelona_,
Take off my hood.
_Phi._ Who be these? stay, let's view 'em?
_Alph._ 'Twas a long journey: are you not weary Sir?
_Sanc._ Weary? I could have rid it in mine Armour.
_Leo._ Alas!
_Phi._ What ail you dear?
_Leo._ It is my Father.
_Phi._ Your Father: which?
_Leo._ He that is carried: oh
Let us make hence.
_Phi._ For loves sake: good my heart.
_Leo._ Into some house before he see me.
_Phi._ Dear,
Be not thus frighted.
_Leo._ Oh his wrath is tempest.
_Phi._ Sweet, take your spirit to you, and stay, be't he,
He cannot know you in this habit, and me
I'm sure he less knows, for he never saw me.
_Alph._ Ha? who is that? my Son _Philippo_?
_Phi._ Sir.
_Alph._ Why, what make you here? Is this _Salamanca_?
And that your study? ha? nay stay him too,
We'll see him by his leave.
_Serv._ You must not strive Sir.
_Alph._ No, no, come near.
_Sanc._ My Daughter: _Leocadia_?
_Alph._ How Sir, your Daughter?
_Sanc._ Yes Sir, and as sure
As that's your Son: Come hither: what now? run
Out o' your sex? breech'd? was't not enough
At once to leave thy Father, and thine honor,
Unless th' hadst quit thy self too.
_Phi._ Sir, what fault
She can be urg'd of, I must take on me
The guilt and punishment.
_Sanc._ You must Sir: how
If you shall not, though you must? I deal not
With boys Sir; I, you have a Father here
Shall do me right.
_Alph._ Thou art not mad _Philippo_?
Art thou _Mark-antonie_? Son to _Leonardo_?
Our business is to them.
_Sanc._ No, no, no, no.
I'll ha' the business now; with you, none else,
Pray you let's speak, in private: (carry me to him)
Your Son's the ravisher Sir, and here I find him:
I hope you'll give me cause to think you noble,
And do me right, with your sword Sir, as becomes
One gentleman of honor to another;
All this is fair Sir: here's the Sea fast by,
Upon the sands, we will determine
'Tis that I call you to; let's make no daies on't,
I'll lead your way; to the sea-side Rascals.
_Phil._ Sir
I would beseech your stay; he may not follow you.
_San._ No, turn, I'll kill him here then: Slaves, Rogues, Bloks.
Why do you not bear me to him? ha' you been
Acquainted with my motions, loggs, so long
And yet not know to time 'em.
_Phi._ Were you Sir
Not impotent.
_Alph._ Hold you your peace Boy.
_Sanc._ Impotent,
'Death, I'll cut his throat first, and then his Fathers.
_Alph._ You must provide you then a sharper Razor
Than is your tongue, for I not fear your sword.
_Sanc._ 'Heart bear me to either of 'em.
_Phi._ Pray Sir your patience.
_Enter Governor and Attendants._
_Alph._ My curse light on thee if thou stay him.
_Phi._ Hold.
_Gov._ Why, what's the matter, Gentlemen, what tumult
Is this you raise i'th' street? before my door?
Know you what 'tis to draw a weapon here?
_Sanc._ Yes, and to use it (bear me up to him, Rogues)
Thus, at a Traitors heart.
_Alph._ Truer than thine.
_Gov._ Strike, strike; Some of the people disarm 'em,
Kill 'em if they resist.
_Phi._ Nay generous Sir
Let not your courtesie turn fury now.
_Gov._ Lay hold upon 'em, take away their weapons,
I will be worth an answer, e'r we part.
_Phi._ 'Tis the Governor Sir.
_Alph._ I yield my self.
_Sanch._ My Sword? what thinkst thou of me? pray thee tell me.