I am sure ye have lain with her my Lord.
_Gond._ I have confest it Sir.
_Duke._ I dare not give thee credit without witness.
_Gond._ Does your grace think we carry seconds with us, to search
us, and see fair play: your Grace hath been ill tutor'd in the
business; but if you hope to try her truly, and satisfy your self
what frailty is, give her the Test: do not remember Count she is
your Sister; nor let my Lord the Duke believe she is fair; but put
her to it without hope or pity, then ye shall see that golde[n]
form flie off, that all eyes wonder at for pure and fixt, and
under't base blushing Copper; metall not worth the meanest honor:
you shall behold her then my Lord transparent, look through her
heart, and view the spirits how they leap, and tell me then I did
belie the Lady.
_Duke._ It shall be done: come _Gondarino_ bear us company,
We do believe thee: she shall die, and thou shalt see it.
_Enter_ Lazarello, _two Intelligencers, and Guard_.
How now my friends, [whome] have you guarded hither?
_2 Int._ So please your Grace we have discover'd a villain and a
Traitor: the Lord _Lucio_ hath examin'd him, and sent him to your
Grace for Judgement.
_Count._ My Lord, I dare absolve him from all sin of Treason: I
know his most ambition is but a dish of meat; which he hath hunted
with so true a scent, that he deserveth the Collar not the Halter.
_Duke._ Why do they bring him thus bound up? the poor man had more
need [of] some warm meat, to comfort his cold stomach.
_Count._ Your Grace shall have the cause hereafter, when you [may]
laugh more freely:
But these are call'd Informers: men that live by Treason, as
Rat-catchers do by poison.
_Duke._ Would there were no heavier prodigies hung over us,
than this poor fellow, I durst redeem all perils ready to pour
themselves upon this State, with a cold Custard.
_Count._ Your Grace might do it without danger to your person.
_Laz._ My Lord, if ever I intended treason against your Person,
or the State, unless it were by wishing from your Table some dish
of meat, which I must needs confess, was not a subjects part: or
coveting by stealth, sups from those noble bottles, that no mouth,
keeping allegiance true, should dare to taste: I must confess, with
more than covetous eye, I have beheld those dear conceal'd dishes,
that have been brought in by cunning equipage, to wait upon your
Graces pallat: I do confesse, out of this present heat, I have had
Stratagems and Ambuscado's; but God be thank'd they have never took.
_Duke._ Count, this business is your own; when you have done,
repair to us. [_Exit Duke._
_Count._ I will attend your Grace: _Lazarello_, you are at liberty,
be your own man again; and if you can be master of your wishes, I
wish it may be so.
_Laz._ I humbly thank your Lordship: I must be unmannerly, I have
some present business, once more I heartily thank your Lordship.
[_Exit_ Lazarillo.
_Count._ Now even a word or two to you, and so farewell; you think
you have deserv'd much of this State by this discovery: y'are a
slavish people, grown subject to the common course of all men.
How much unhappy were that noble spirit, could work by such baser
gains? what misery would not a knowing man put on with willingness,
e'r he see himself grown fat and full fed, by fall of those you
rise by? I do discharge ye my attendance; our healthful State needs
no such Leeches to suck out her bloud.
_1 Int._ I do beseech your Lordship.
_2 Int._ Good my Lord.
_Count._ Go learn to be more honest, [when] I see you work your
means from honest industry, [_Exeunt Informers._
I will be willing to accept your labours:
Till then I will keep back my promis'd favours:
Here comes another remnant of folly:
_Enter_ Lucio.
I must dispatch him too. Now Lord _Lucio_, what business [bring]
you hither?
_Luc._ Faith Sir, I am discovering what will become of that notable
piece of treason, intended by that Varlet _Lazarillo_; I have sent
him to the Duke for judgement.
_Count._ Sir, you have perform'd the part of a most careful
Statesman, and let me say it to your face, Sir, of a Father to
this State: I would wish you to retire, and insconce your self in
study: for such is your daily labour, and our fear, that our loss
of an hour may breed our overthrow.
_Luc._ Sir, I will be commanded by your judgement, and though I
find it a trouble scant to be waded through, by these weak years:
yet for the dear care of the Commonwealth, I will bruise my brains,
and confine my self to much vexation.
_Count._ Go, and maist thou knock down Treason like an Ox.
_Luc._ Amen.
[_Exeunt._
_Enter Mercer, Pandar, Francissina._
_Mer._ Have I spoke thus much in the honor of Learning? learn'd the
names of the seven liberal Sciences, before my marriage; and since,
have in haste written Epistles congratulatory, to the Nine Muses,
and is she prov'd a Whore and a Begger?
_Pan._ 'Tis true, you are not now to be taught, that no man can be
learn'd of a suddain; let not your first project discourage you,
what you have lost in this, you may get again in Alchumie.
_Fran._ Fear not Husband, I hope to make as good a wife, as the
best of your neighbors have, and as honest.
_Mer._ I will goe home; good Sir, do not publish this, as long as
it runs amongst our selves; 'tis good honest mirth: you'll come
home to supper; I mean to have all her friends, and mine, as ill as
it goes.
_Pan._ Do wisely Sir, and bid your own friends, your whole wealth
will scarce feast all hers, neither is it for your credit, to walk
the streets with a woman so noted; get you home and provide her
cloaths: let her come an hour hence with an Hand-basket, and shift
her self, she'll serve to sit at the upper end of the Table, and
drink to your customers.
_Mer._ Art is just, and will make me amends.
_Pan._ No doubt Sir.
_Mer._ The chief note of a Scholar you say, is to govern his
passions; wherefore I do take all patiently; in sign of which, my
[most] dear Wife, I do kiss thee, make haste home after me, I shall
be in my study.
[_Exit Mercer._
_Pan._ Go, avaunt, my new City Dame, send me what you promis'd me
for consideration; and may'st thou prove a Lady.
_Fran._ Thou shalt have it, his Silks shall flie for it. [_Exeunt._
_Enter_ Lazarello _and his boy_.
_Laz._ How sweet is a Calm after a Tempest, what is there now that
can stand betwixt me and felicity? I have gone through all my
crosses constantly; have confounded my enemies, and know where to
have my longing[s] satisfied: I have my way before me, there's the
door, and I may freely walk into my delights: knock boy.
_Jul._ Who's there? [_Within._
_Laz. Madona_, my Love, not guilty, not guilty, open the door.
_Enter_ Julia.
_Jul._ Art thou come sweet-heart?
_Laz._ Yes, to [thy] soft embraces, and the rest of my over-flowing
blisses; come, let us in and swim in our delights: a short Grace as
we go, and so to meat.
_Jul._ Nay my dear Love, you must bear with me in this; we'll to
the Church first.
_Laz._ Shall I be sure of it then?
_Jul._ By my love you shall.
_Laz._ I am content, for I do now wish to hold off longer, to whet
my appetite, and do desire to meet with more troubles, so I might
conquer them:
And as a holy Lover that hath spent
The tedious night with many a sigh and tears;
Whilst he pursu'd his wench: and hath observ'd
The smiles, and frowns, not daring to displease
When at last, hath with his service won
Her yielding heart; that she begins to dote
Upon him, and can hold no longer out,
But hangs about his neck, and wooes him more
Than ever he desir'd her love before:
Then begins to flatter his desert,
And growing wanton, needs will cast her off;
Try her, pick quarrels, to breed fresh delight,
And to increase his pleasing appetite.
_Jul._ Come Mouse will you walk?
_Laz._ I pray thee let me be deliver'd of the joy I am so big with,
I do feel that high heat within me, that I begin to doubt whether I
be mortal:
How I contemn my fellows in the Court,
With whom I did but yesterday converse?
And in a lower, and an humbler key
Did walk and meditate on grosser meats?
There are they still poor rogues, shaking their chops,
And sneaking after Cheeses, and do run
Headlong in chace, of every Jack of Beer
That crosseth them, in hope of some repast,
That it will bring them to, whilst I am here,
The happiest wight that ever set his tooth
To a dear novelty: approach my love,
Come, let's go to knit the True Loves knot,
That never can be broken.
_Boy._ That is to marry a whore.
_Laz._ When that is done, then will we taste the gift,
Which Fates have sent my Fortunes up to lift.
_Boy._ When that is done, you'll begin to repent upon a full
stomach; but I see, 'tis but a form in destiny, not to be alter'd.
[_Exeunt._
_Enter_ Arrigo _and Oriana_.
_Oria._ Sir, what may be the current of your business, that thus
you single out your time and place?
_Arri._ Madam, the business now impos'd upon me, concerns you
nearly, I wish some worser man might finish it.
_Ori._ Why are ye chang'd so? are ye not well Sir?
_Arr._ Yes Madam, I am well, wo'd you were so.
_Oria._ Why Sir, I feel my self in perfect health.
_Arri._ And yet ye cannot live long, Madam.
_Oria._ Why good _Arrigo_?
_Arr._ Why? ye must dye.
_Oria._ I know I must, but yet my fate calls not upon me.
_Arr._ It does; this hand the Duke commands shall give you death.
_Oria._ Heaven, and the powers Divine, guard well the innocent.
_Arr._ Lady, your Prayers may do your soul some good,
That sure your body cannot merit by 'em:
You must prepare to die.
_Orian._ What's my offence? what have these years committed,
That may be dangerous to the Duke, or State?
Have I conspir'd by poison, have I giv'n up
My honor to some loose unsetl'd bloud
That may give action to my plots?
Dear Sir, let me not dye ignorant of my faults?
_Arr._ Ye shall not.
Then Lady, you must know, you're held unhonest;
The Duke, your Brother, and your friends in Court,
With too much grief condemn ye: though to me,
The fault deserves not to be paid with death.
_Orian._ Who's my accuser?
_Arri._ Lord _Gondarino_.
_Orian. Arrigo_, take these words, and bear them to the Duke,
It is the last petition I shall ask thee:
Tell him the child this present hour brought forth
To see the world has not a soul more pure, more white,
More Virgin than I have; Tell him Lord _Gondarino's_ Plot, I suffer
for, and willingly: tell him it had been a greater honor, to have
sav'd than kill'd: but I have done: strike, I am arm'd for heaven.
Why, stay you? is there any hope?
_Arri._ I would not strike.
_Orian._ Have you the power to save?
_Arri._ With hazard of my life, if it should be known.
_Orian._ You will not venture that?
_Arri._ I will Lady: there is that means yet to escape your death,
if you can wisely apprehend [it].
_Orian._ Ye dare not be so kind?
_Arri._ I dare, and will, if you dare but deserve't.
_Ori._ If I should slight my life, I were [to] blame.
_Arri._ Then Madam, this is the means, or else you die: I love you.
_Orian._ I shall believe it, if you save my life.
_Arri._ And you must lie with me.
_Orian._ I dare not buy my life so.
_Arri._ Come, ye must resolve, say yea or no.
_Orian._ Then no; nay, look not ruggedly upon me, I am made up too
strong to fear such looks: Come, do your Butchers part: before I
would wish life, with the dear loss of honour, I dare find means to
free my self.
_Arr._ Speak, will ye yield?
_Orian._ Villain, I will not; Murtherer, do thy worst, thy base
unnoble thoughts dare prompt thee to; I am above thee slave.
_Arri._ Wilt thou not be drawn to yield by fair perswasions?
_Orian._ No, nor by--
_Arri._ Peace, know your doom then; your Ladyship must remember,
you are not now at home, where you dare [jeast at] all that come
about you: but you are fallen under my mercy, which shall be but
small; if thou refuse to yield: hear what I have sworn unto my
self; I will enjoy thee, though it be between the parting of thy
soul and body; yield yet and live.
_Orian._ I'll guard the one, let Heaven guard the other.
_Arri._ Are you so resolute then?
[_Duke from above._ Hold, hold I say.]
_Orian._ What [have] I? yet more terror to my tragedy?
_Arri._ Lady, the Scene of bloud is done; ye are now as free from
scandal, as from death.
_Enter Duke, Count, and_ Gondarino.
_Duke._ Thou Woman which wert born to teach men virtue,
Fair, sweet, and modest Maid, forgive my thoughts,
My trespass was my love.
Seize _Gondarino_, let him wait our dooms.
_Gond._ I do begin a little to love this woman; I could endure her
already twelve miles off.
_Count._ Sister, I am glad you have brought your honor off so
fairly, without loss: you have done a work above your sex, the Duke
admires it: give him fair encounter.
_Duke._ Best of all comforts, may I take this hand, and call it
mine?
_Ori._ I am your Graces handmaid.
_Duke._ Would ye had sed my self: might it not be so Lady?
_Count._ Sister, say I, I know you can afford it.
_Ori._ My Lord, I am your subject, you may command me, provided
still, your thoughts be fair and good.
_Duke._ Here I am yours, and when I cease to be so,
Let heaven forget me: thus I make it good.
_Ori._ My Lord, I am no more mine own.
_Count._ So, this bargain was well driven.
_Gond._ Duke, thou hast sold away thy self to all perdition; thou
art this present hour becomming Cuckold: methinks I see thy gaul
grate through thy veins, and jealousie seize thee with her talons:
I know that womans nose must be cut off, she cannot scape it.
_Duke._ Sir, we have punishment for you.
_Orian._ I do beseech your Lordship, for the wrongs this man hath
done me, let me pronounce his punishment.
_Duke._ Lady, I give't to you, he is your own.
_Gond._ I do beseech your Grace, let me be banisht with all the
speed that may be.
_Count._ Stay still, you shall attend her sentence.
_Orian._ Lord _Gondarino_, you have wrong'd me highly; yet since it
sprung from no peculiar hate to me, but from a general dislike unto
all women, you shall thus suffer for it; _Arrigo_, call in some
Ladies to assist us; will your Grace [t]ake your State?
_Gond._ My Lord, I do beseech your Grace for any punishment saving
this woman, let me be sent upon discovery of some Island; I do
desire but a small Gondela, with ten Holland Cheeses, and I'll
undertake it.
_Oria._ Sir, ye must be content, will ye sit down? nay, do it
willingly: _Arrigo_, tie his Arms close to the chair, I dare not
trust his patience.
_[G]ond._ Mayst thou be quickly old and painted; mayst thou dote
upon some sturdy Yeoman of the Wood-yard, and he be honest; mayst
thou be barr'd the lawful lechery of thy Coach, for want of
instruments; and last, be thy womb unopen'd.
_Duke._ This fellow hath a pretty gaul.
_Count._ My Lord, I hope to see him purg'd e'r he part.
_Enter Ladies._
_Oria._ Your Ladyships are welcome: I must desire your helps,
though you are no Physitians, to do a strange cure upon this
Gentleman.
_Ladies._ In what we can assist you Madam, ye may command us.
_Gond._ Now do I sit like a Conjurer within my circle, and these
the Devils that are rais'd about me, I will pray that they may have
no power upon me.
_Oria._ Ladies, fall off in couples, then with a [s]oft still
march, with low demeanors, charge this Gentleman, I'll be your
Leader.
_Gond._ Let me be quarter'd Duke quickly, I can endure it: these
women long for Mans flesh, let them have it.
_Duke._ Count, have you ever seen so strange a passion? what would
this fellow do, if he should find himself in bed with a young Lady?
_Count._ 'Faith my Lord, if he could get a knife, sure he wou'd cut
her throat, or else he wou'd do as _Hercules_ did by _Lycas_, swing
out her soul: h'as the true hate of a woman in him.
_Oria._ Low with your Cursies Ladies.
_Gond._ Come not too near me, I have a breath will poison ye,
my lungs are rotten, and my stomach is raw: I am given much to
belching: hold off, as you love sweet airs; Ladies, by your first
nights pleasure, I conjure you, as you wou'd have your Husbands
proper men, strong backs, and little legs, as you would have 'em
hate your Waiting-women.
_Oria._ Sir, we must court ye, till we have obtain'd some little
favour from those gracious eyes, 'tis but a kiss a piece.
_Gond._ I pronounce perdition to ye all; ye are a parcel of that
damned crew that fell down with _Lucifer_, and here ye staid on
earth to plague poor men; vanish, avaunt, I am fortified against
your charms; heaven grant me breath and patience.
_1 Lady._ Shall we not kiss then?
_Gond._ No sear my lips with hot irons first, or stitch them up
like a Ferrets: oh that this brunt were over!
_2 Lady._ Come, come, little rogue, thou art too maidenly by my
troth, I think I must box thee till thou be'st bolder; the more
bold, the more welcome: I prethee kiss me, be not afraid. [_She
sits on his knee._
_Gond._ If there be any here, that yet have so much of the fool
left in them, as to love their mothers, let them [looke] on her,
and loath them too.
_2 Lady._ What a slovenly little villain art thou, why dost thou
not stroke up thy hair? I think thou ne'er comb'st it: I must have
it lie in better order; so, so, so, let me see thy hands, are they
wash'd?
_Gond._ I would th[e]y were loose for thy sake.
_Duke._ She tortures him admirably.
_Count._ The best that ever was.
_2 Lady._ Alas, how cold they are, poor golls, why dost thee not
get thee a Muff?
_Arri._ Madam, here's an old Countrey Gentlewoman at the door, that
came nodding up for justice, she was with the Lord _Gondarino_ to
day, and would now again come to the speech of him, she says.
_Oria._ Let her in, for sports sake, let her in.
_Gond._ Mercy, oh Duke, I do appeal to thee: plant Canons there,
and discharge them against my breast rather: nay, first let this
she-fury sit still where she does, and with her nimble fingers
stroke my hair, play with my fingers ends, or any thing, until my
panting heart have broke my breast.
_Duke._ You must abide her censure. [_The Lady rises from his knee._
_Enter old Gentlewoman._
_Gond._ I see her come, unbutton me, for she will speak.
_Gentlew._ Where is he Sir?
_Gond._ Save me, I hear her.
_Ar._ There he is in state to give you audience.
_Gentlew._ How does your [good] Lordship?
_Gond._ Sick of the spleen.
_Gentlew._ How?
_Gond._ Sick.
_Gentlew._ Will you chew a Nutmeg, you shall not refuse it, it is
very comfortable.
_Gond._ Nay, now thou art come, I know it
Is the Devils Jubile, Hell is broke loose:
My Lord, if ever I have done you service,
Or have deserv'd a favour of your Grace,
Let me be turn'd upon some present action,
Where I may sooner die, than languish thus;
Your Grace hath her petition, grant it her, and ease me now at last.
_Duke._ No Sir, you must endure.
_Gentlew._ For my petition, I hope your Lordship hath remembred me.
_Oria._ 'Faith I begin to pity him, _Arrigo_, take her off, bear
her away, say her petition is granted.
_Gentlew._ Wh[i]ther do you draw me Sir? I know it is not my Lords
pleasure I should be thus used, before my business be dispatched?
_Arr._ You shall know more of that without.
_Oria._ Unbind him Ladies, but before he go, this he shall promise;
for the love I bear to our own sex, I would have them still hated
by thee, and injoyn thee as a punishment, never hereafter willingly
to come in the presence, or sight of any woman, nor never to seek
wrongfully the publick disgrace of any.
_Gond._ 'Tis that I would have sworn, and do: when I [meddle] with
them, for their good, or their bad; may Time [call] back this day
again, and when I come in their companies, may I catch the pox, by
their breath, and have no other pleasure for it.
_Duke._ Ye are [too] merciful.
_Oria._ My Lord, I shew'd my sex the better.
_Gond._ All is over-blown Sister: y'are like to have a fair night
of it, and a Prince in your Arms: let's goe my Lord.
_Duke._ Thus through the doubtful streams of joy and grief, True
Love doth wade, and finds at last relief. [_Exeunt omnes._
NICE VALOUR.
A Comedy.
The Persons represented in the Play.
Duke _of_ Genova.
Shamont _his Favourite, a superstitious lover of reputation._
A passionate Lord, _the Duke's distracted kinsman._
A Soldier, _brother to_ Shamont.
Lapet, _the cowardly Monsieur of_ Nice Valour.
A Gallant _of the same Temper._
Pultrot, } _Two Mushroom_
Mombazon, } _Courtiers._
Two Brothers _to the Lady, affecting the passionate Lord_.
Four Courtiers.
Jester.
A Priest } _In a Masque._
Six Women }
Galoshio, _a Clown, such another try'd piece of Man's flesh_.
WOMEN.
Lady, _Sister to the Duke_, Shamont's _beloved_.
Lapet's _Wife_.
A Lady, _personating_ Cupid, _Mistriss to the mad Lord_.
The Scene Genova.
The PROLOGUE at the reviving of this Play.
_It's grown in fashion of late in these days,_
_To come and beg a suff[eranc]e to our Plays_
_'Faith Gentlemen, our Poet ever writ_
_Language so good, mixt with such sprightly wit,_
_He made the Theatre so Sovereign_
_With his rare Scænes, he scorn'd this crouching vein:_
_We stabb'd him with keen daggers when we pray'd_
_Him write a Preface to a Play well made._
_He could not write these toyes, 'tw[a]s easier far,_
_To bring a Felon to appear at th' Barr_
_So much he hated baseness; which this day,_
_His Scænes will best convince you of in's Play._
_Actus Primus. Scæna Prima._
_Enter Duke_, Shamount, _and four Gentlemen_.
_Duke. Shamount_, welcome; we have mist thee long,
Though absent but two days: I hope your sports
Answer your time and wishes.
_Sham._ Very nobly Sir;
We found game, worthy your delight my Lord,
It was so royal.
_Duke._ I've enough to hear on't.
Prethee bestow't upon me in discourse.
_1 Gent._ What is this Gentleman, Coz? you are a Courtier,
Therefore know all their insides.
_2 Gent._ No farther than the Taffaty goes, good Coz.
For the most part, which is indeed the best part
Of the most general inside; marry thus far
I can with boldness speak this one mans character,
And upon honor, pass it for a true one;
He has that strength of manly merit in him,
That it exceeds his Sovereigns power of gracing;
He's faithfully true to valour, that he hates
The man from _Cæsar's_ time, or farther off,
That ever took disgrace unreveng'd:
And if he chance to read his abject story,
He tears his memory out; and holds it virtuous,
Not to let shame have so much life amongst us;
There is not such a curious piece of courage
Amongst mans fellowship, or one so jealous
Of honors loss, or repu[t]ations glory:
There's so much perfect of his growing story.
_1 Gent._ 'Twould make one dote on virtue as you tell it.
_2 Gent._ I have told it to much loss, believe it Coz.
_3 Gent._ How the Duke graces him! what is he brother?
_4 Gent._ Do you not yet know him? a vain-glorious coxcomb,
As proud as he that fell for't:
Set but aside his valour, no virtue,
Which is indeed, not fit for any Courtier;
And we his fellows are as good as he,
Perhaps as capable of favour too,
For one thing or another, if 'twere look'd into:
Give me a man, were I a Sovereign now
Has a good stroke [a]t _Tennis_, and a stiff one,
Can play at _Æquinoctium_ with the Line,
As even, as the thirteenth of _September_,
When day and night lie in a scale together:
Or may I thrive, as I deserve at _Billiards_;
No otherwise at _Chesse_, or at _Primero_:
These are the parts requir'd, why not advanc'd?
_Duke._ Trust me, it was no less than excellent pleasure,
And I'm right glad 'twas thine. How fares our kinsman?
Who can resolve us best?
1 _Gent._ I can my Lord.
_Duke._ There, if I had a pity without bounds,
It might be all bestowed----A man so lost
In the wild ways of passion, that he's sensible
Of nought, but what torments him?
_1 Gent._ True my Lord,
He runs through all the Passions of mankind,
And shifts 'em strangely too: one while in love,
And that so violent, that for want of business,
He'll court the very Prentice of a Laundress,
Though she have kib'd heels: and in's melancholly agen,
He will not brook an Empress though thrice fairer
Than ever _Maud_ was; or higher spirited
Than _Cleopatra_, or your _English_ Countess:
Then on a suddain he's so merry again,
Out-laughs a Waiting-woman before her first Child:
And turning of a hand, so angry--
Has almost beat the Northern fellow blind;
That is for that use only; if that mood hold my Lord,
Had need of a fresh man; I'll undertake,
He shall bruise three a month.
_Duke._ I pity him dearly:
And let it be your charge, with his kind brother
To see his moods observ'd; let every passion
Be fed ev'n to a surfet, which in time
May breed a loathing: let him have enough
Of every object, that his sence is wrapt with;
And being once glutted, then the taste of folly
Will come into his rellish. [_Exit._
_1 Gent._ I shall see
Your charge my Lord, most faith[fully] effected:
And how does noble _Shamount_?