DEKKER'S DRAMATIC WORKS

HE DRAMATIC WORKS OF THOMAS DEKKER NOW FIRST COLLECTED WITH ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES AND A MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR IN FOUR VOLUMES.

VOLUME THE FOURTH

LONDON JOHN PEARSON YORK STREET COVENT GARDEN

1873

Sir

1913

•

V

THE

VIRGIN

MARTIR,

A

TRAGEDIE, AS IT HATH BIN DIVERS

times publickely A6led with great

Applaufe, By thejeruants of his Mate/lies Reuels.

Written ( phmP Meffager and by 1 Thomas Deker.

LONDON, Printed by £. A. for Thomas

Tones. 1622.

B

[The three later Editions of 1631, 1651, and 1661, have been collated with the firft, and have fupplied fome important corrections of the text.]

The A6tors names.

Emperours of Rome.

A King of Pontus.

A King of Epire.

A King of Macedon*

Sapritius, Governour of Cafaria.

Theophilus, a zealous perfecutor of the Chriflians.

ScmpreniuS) Captain of Sapritius Guards.

Antoninus, fonne to Sapritius.

Macrinus, friend to Antoninus.

Harpax, an euill fpirit, following Theophilus in the

fhape of a Secretary. Artemia, daughter to Dioclefian.

CCh£jkta. } Daughters to Thafhilus.

Dorothea, The Virgin-Martyr.

Angela, a good fpirit, feruing Dorothea in the habit of

a Page.

A Brittifh-Slave.

Hercius, a Whoremafler. ) 0 ,-,

Spunks, a Drunkard. }Seruants to Dorothea. A Priefl to Jupiter. Officers and Executioners.

THE

Virgin Martir.

A6lus primus. Scene i.

Enter Theophilus^ Harpax.

Theoph. f~* Ome to Ccefarea to night 1 Harpax. V^^Mofl true Sir.

Theophilus. The Emperour in perion ?

Harpax. Do I live ?

Theo. 'Tis wondrous ftrange the marches of great

Princes,

Like to the motions of prodigious Meteors, Are ftep by flep obferv'd ; and loud tongu'd Fame The harbinger to prepare their entertainment : And were it poffible fo great an army, Though cover'd with the night, could be fo near ; The Governour cannot be fo unfriended Among the many that attend his perfon, But by fome fecret means, he mould have notice Of Cctfars purpofe in this ; then excufe me If I appear incredulous.

6 The Virgin Martir.

Harpax. At your pleafure.

Theoph. Yet when I call to mind you never

fail'd me

In things more difficult, but have difcovered Deeds that were done thoufand leagues diflant

from me,

When neither Woods, nor Caves, nor fecret Vaults, No nor the power they ferve, could keep thefe

Chriftians

Or from my reach or punimment, but thy Magick Still laid them open ; I begin again To be as confident as heretofore. It is not poffible thy powerfull art Should meet a check, or fail.

Enter a Prieft with the image of Tupiter, Califle, Chrifteta.

Harp. Look on thefe veflals, The holy pledges that the Gods have giv'n you, Your chad fair daughters. Wer't not to upbraid A fervice to a Mailer not unthankfull, I could fay this, in fpite of your prevention, Seduc'd by an imagin'd faith, not reafon, (Which is the ftrength of Nature) quite forfaking The Gentile gods, had yielded up themfelves To this new found Religion. This I crofs'd, Difcover'd their intentions, taught you to ufe With gentle words and mild perfwafions, The power and the authority of a father, Set off with cruel threats, and fo reclaim'd them : And whereas they with torments fhould have dy'd, (Hels furies to me had they undergone it) afide.

They are now votaries in great lupiters temple, And by his Prieft inflru6led, grown familiar With all the Myfteries, nay, the mofl abflrufe ones Belonging to his Deity.

Theoph. 'Twas a benefit For which I ever owe you, Hayl loves Flamen :

The Virgin Martir. ^

Have thefe my daughters reconcil'd themfelves (Abandoning for ever the Chriflian way) To your opinion ?

Prieft. And are conflant in it : They teach their teachers with their depth of judge

ment ;

And are with arguments able to convert The enemies to our gods, and anfwer all They can object againfl us.

Theoph, My dear daughters.

Califte. We dare difpute againfl this new fprung

In private or in publick.

Har. My befl Lady, Perfever in it.

Chrifteta. And what we maintain, We will feal with our bloods.

Harp. Brave refolution : I ev'n grow fat to fee my labors profper.

Theoph. I young again : to your devotions.

Har. Do — - My prayers be prefent with you. Exeunt Prieft and

Theoph. Oh my Harpax. daughters.

Thou engine of my wifhes, thou that fteeld'ft My bloody refolutions, thou that arm'ft My eyes 'gainft womanilh tears and foft companion, Inflrucling me without a figh to look on Babes torn by violence from their mothers brealls To feed the fire, and with them make one flame : Old men as beafts, in beails skins torn by dogs : Virgins and matrons tire the executioners, Yet I unfatisfied think their torments eafie.

Har. And in that, jufl, not cruell.

Theo. Were all fcepters That grace the hands of kings made into one, And offered me, all Crowns laid at my feet, I would contemn them all, thus fpit at them, So I to all pofterities might be cal'd The ftrongeft champion of the Pagan gods,

8 The Virgin Martir.

And rooter out of Chriflians,

Har. Oh mine own,

Mine own dear Lord, to further this great work I ever live thy (lave.

Enter Sapritius and Sempronius.

Theo. No more, the Governour,

Sapr. Keep the Ports clofe, and let the guards be

doubl'd,

Difarm the Chriflians, call it death in any To wear a fword, or in his houfe to have one.

Semp. I (hall be carefull Sir.

Sap. It will well become you. Such as refufe to offer facrifice To any of our gods, put to the torture, Grub up this growing mifchief by the roots ; And know, when we are mercifull to them, We to our felves are cruell.

Semp. You pour oil On fire that burns already at the height. I know the Emperours Edicl and my charge, And they mall find no favour.

Theop. My good Lord, This care is timely, for the entertainment Of our great mafler, who this night in perfon Comes here to thank you,

Sap. Who, the Emperour ?

Har. To clear your doubts, he does return in

triumph,

Kings lackying by his triumphant Chariot ; And in this glorious victory, my Lord, You have an ample mare : for know your fon, The ne're enough commended Antoninus^ So well hath flefhd his maiden fword, and dy'd His fnowy Plumes fo deep in enemies blood, That befides publick grace beyond his hopes, There are rewards propounded.

Sap. I would know

The Virgin Martir. o

o s

No mean in thine, could this be true.

Har. My head anfwer the forfeit.

Sap. Of his victory

There was fome rumour, but it was afsured, The army pafs'd a full dayes journey higher Into the Country.

Har. It was fo determin'd ; But for the further honor of your fon, And to obferve the government of the City, And with what rigour, or remifs indulgence The Chriflians are purfu'd, he makes his flay here : For proof, his Trumpets fpeak his near arrivall.

Trumpets afar off.

Sap. Hafle good Sempronius, draw up our guards, And with all ceremonious pomp receive The conquering army. Let our garrifon fpeak Their welcome in loud fhouts, the City mew Her State and Wealth.

Semp. I am gone. Exit Sempronius.

Sapritius. O I am ravifh'd With this great honour ! cherifh good Theophilus This knowing fcholler, fend your fair daughters, I will prefent them to the Emperour, And in their fweet converfion, as a mirror, Exprefs your zeal and duty. A lejfen of Cornets.

Theoph. Fetch them, good Harpax.

A guard brought in by Sempronius, fouldiers lead ing in three Kings bound, Antoninus, and Ma- crinus carrying the Emperors Eagles, Dioclefian with a guilt laurel on his head, leading in Artemia, Sapritius kiffes the Emperors hand, then embraces his fon, Harpax brings in Califle and Chrifteta, loud fhouts.

Diode. So, at all parts I find Ccefarea Compleatly govern'd, the licentious fouldier Confin'd in modefl limits, and the people

io The Virgin Martir.

Taught to obey, and not compeld with rigour ;

The ancient Roman difcipline reviv'd,

(Which rais'd Rome to her greatneffe, and proclaim'd

her

The glorious Miftrefle of the conquer'd world :) But above all, the fervice of the gods So zealoufly obferv'd, that (good Sapritius) In words to thank you for your care and duty, Were much unworthy Dioclefians honour, Or his magnificence to his loyal fervants. But I mall find a time with noble titles To recompence your merits.

Sap. Mightiefl Cafar,

Whofe power upon this globe of earth, is equal To loves in heaven ; whofe victorious triumphs On proud rebellious Kings that ftir againft it, Are perfect figures of his immortal trophees Won in the Gyants war ; whofe conquering fword Guided by his ftrong arm, as deadly kils As did his thunder ; all that I have done, Or if my flrength were centupl'd could do, Comes mort of what my loyalty muft challenge. But if in any thing I have deferv'd Great Ccefars fmile, 'tis in my humble care Still to preferve the honour of thofe gods) That make him what he is : my zeal to them I ever have expreffed in my fell hate Againfl the Chriflian fedl, that with one blow, Afcribing all things to an unknown power ; Would ftrike down all their temples, and allows them Nor facrifice nor altars.

DiocL Thou in this

Walk'ft hand in hand with me, my will and power Shall not alone confirm, but honour all That are in this moft forward.

Sap. Sacred Ccefar, If your imperial Majefty fland pleas'd To fhowre your favours upon fuch as are

The Virgin Mar fir. 1 1

The boldeft champions of our religion ; Look on this reverend man, to whom the power Of fearching out, and punifhing fuch delinquents, Was by your choife committed \ and for proof, He hath deferv'd the grace impos'd upon him, And with a fair and even hand proceeded, Partial to none, not to himfelf, or thofe Of equall nearneffe to himfelf, behold This pair of Virgins.

Dioc. What are thefe 1

Sap. His Daughters.

Art. Now by your facred fortune, they are fair

ones;

Exceeding fair ones : would 't were in my power To make them mine.

Theo. They are the gods, great Lady, They were moft happy in your fervice elfe : On thefe (when they fell from their fathers faith) I us'd a Judges power, intreaties failing (They being feduc'd) to win them to adore The holy powers we worfhip ; I put on The fcarlet robe of bold authority : And as they had been ftrangers to my blood, Prefented them (in the moft horrid form) All kind of tortures, part of which they fuffered With Roman conftancy.

Art. And could you endure, Being a father, to behold their limbs Extended on the Rack ?

Theo. I did ; but muft

Confeffe there was a ftrange contention in me, Between the impartial office of a Judge, And pittie of a Father ; to help Juftice Religion flept in, under which ods Companion fell : yet flill I was a Father ; For even then, when the flinty hangman s whips Were worn with ftripes, fpent on their tender limbs, I kneel'd, and wept, and begg'd them, though they would

12 The Virgin Martir.

Be cruel to themfelves, they would take pitty On my gray hairs. Now note a fudden change, Which I with joy remember, thofe whom torture, Nor fear of death could terrific, were orecome By feeing of my fufferings ; and fo won, Returning to the faith that they were born in, I gave them to the gods : and be affur'd, I that us'd juftice with a rigorous hand Upon fuch beauteous virgins, and mine own, Will ufe no favour where the caufe commands me, To any other ; but as rocks be deaf To all intreaties.

DiocL Thou deferv'fl thy place, Still hold it, and with honour. Things thus ordered Touching the gods, tis lawfull to defcend To human cares, and exercife that power Heaven has confer'd upon me ; which that you, Rebels and traytors to the power of Rome^ Should not with all extremities undergoe, What can you urge to qualifie your crimes, Or mitigate my anger ?

Epire. We are now

Slaves to thy power, that yeflerday were Kings, And had command ore others ; we confeffe Our Grandfires paid yours tribute, yet left us, As their forefathers had, defire of freedom. And if you Romans hold it glorious honour, Not onely to defend what is your own, But to enlarge your Empire, (though our fortune Denies that happineffe,) who can accufe The famifhd mouth if it attempt to feed ; Or fuch whofe fettters eat into their freedomes, If they defire to make them off.

Pontus. We fland

The lafl examples to prove how uncertain All humane happineffe is, and are prepar'd To endure the worft.

Macedon. That fpoke which now is highefl In Fortunes wheel, muft, when me turns it next,

The Virgin Martir. 1 3

Decline as low as we are. This confider'd,

Taught the Egyptian Hercules Sefoftris

(That had his Chariot drawn by captive Kings)

To free them from that flavery ; but to hope

Such mercy from a Roman, were meer madnefs :

We are familiar with what cruelty

Rome, fince her infant greatnefs, ever us'd

Such as me triumph'd over ; age nor fex

Exempted from her tyranny \ fcepter'd Princes

Kept in your common Dungeons, and their children

In fcorn train'd up in bafe Mechanick arts

For publick bondmen : in the catalogue

Of thofe unfortunate men, we expect to have

Our names remembred.

Diode. In all growing Empires Ev'n cruelty is ufefull ; fome muft fuffer, And be fet up examples to ftrike terror In others, though far off : but when a State Is rais'd to her perfection, and her Bafes Too firm to mrink, or yeeld, we may ufe mercy, And do't with fafety, but to whom ? Not cowards, Or fuch whofe bafeneffe fhames the Conqueror, And robs him of his victory, as weak Perfeus Did great jEmilius. Know therefore, Kings Of EpirC) Pontus, and of Macedon, That I with courtefie can ufe my Prifoners As well as make them mine by force, provided That they are noble enemies : fuch I found you Before I made you mine ; and fince you were fo, You have not loft the courages of Princes, Although the Fortune ; had you borne your felves Dejectedly, and bafe, no flavery Had been too eafie for you : but fuch is The power of noble valour, that we love it Ev'n in our enemies, and taken with it, Defire to make them friends, as I will you.

Epire. Mock us not Cotfar.

Diode. By the Gods I do not. Unloofe their bonds, I now as friends embrace you,

14 The Virgin Mar fir.

Give them their Crowns again,

Pon. We are twice overcome. By courage and by courtefie.

Mace. But this latter, Shall teach us to live ever faithfull Vaffals To Dioclefian, and the power of Rome.

Epire. All Kingdomes fall before her.

Pon. And all Kings Contend to honour Ccefar.

Diode. I believe

Your tongues, are the true Trumpets of your hearts, And in it I mod happy. Queen of fate, Imperious fortune, mixe fome light difafler With my fo many joyes to feafon them, And give them fweeter relifti j I am girt round With true felicity, faithfull fubje<5ls here, Here bold Commanders, here with new made friends But what's the Crown of all, in thee Artemia* My only child, whofe love to me and duty Strive to exceed each other.

Ar. I make payment

But of a debt which I ftand bound to tender As a daughter and a fubjec~l.

Diode. Which requires yet A retribution from me Artemia ; Ty'd by a fathers care how to beflow A jewel of all things to me moft pretious : Nor will I therefore longer keep thee from The chief joyes of creation, marriage rites ; Which that thou mayft with greater pleafure tafte of, Thou malt not like with mine eyes but thine own ; Amongfl thefe Kings, forgetting they were captives, Or thefe remembring not they are my fubiecfls, Make choice of any ; by loues dreadful thunder, My will mall rank with thine.

Arte. It is a bounty

The daughters of great Princes feldome meet with ; For they, to make up breaches in the (late, Or for fome other politick ends, are forc'd

The Virgin Mar tir. .15

To match where they affect not : may my life Deferve this favour.

Diode, Speak, I long to know The man thou wilt make happy.

Artem. If that titles,

Or the adored name of Queen could take me, Here would I fixe min eyes and look no farther. But thefe are baits to take a mean born Lady, , Not her that boldly may call Ccefar father, In that I can bring honour unto any, But from no King that lives receive addition ; To raife defert and virtue by my fortune, Though in a low eftate, were greater glory, Then to mix greatneffe with a Prince, that owes No worth but that name onely.

Diode. I commend thee, 'Tis like thy felfe.

Artem. If then of men beneath me My choice is to be made, where mail I feek, But among thofe that beft deferve from you ? That have ferv'd you moft faithfully, that in dangers Have flood next to you, that have interpos'd Their brefls, as fhields of proof to dull the fwords Aim'd at your bofome, that have fpent their bloud To crown your brows with Lawrell.

Macrinus. Citherea Great Queen of love be now propitious to me.

Har. Now mark what I foretold.

Anton. Her eyes on me, Fair Venus fon, draw forth a leaden dart, And that me may hate me, transfix her with it j Or, if thou needs wilt ufe a golden one, Shoot in the behalf of any other ; Thou know'fl I am thy votary elfe where.

Arte. Sir.

Theoph. How he blufhes !

Sap. Welcome, foole, thy fortune, Stand like a block when fuch an Angell courts thee.

Artem. I am no object to diuert your eye

1 6 The Virgin Martir.

From the beholding, -— Anton. Rather a bright Sun Too glorious for him to gaze vpon That took not firft flight from the Eagles aeiry. As I look on the temples, or the gods, And with that reuerence, Lady, I behold you, And mall do euer.

Artem. And it will become you While thus we ftand at diflance ; but if loue (Loue born out of the aflurance of your virtues) Teach me to (loop fo low.

Anton. Or rather take A higher flight.

Artem. Why fear you to be rais'd ? Say I put off the dreadfull awe that waits On Majefty, and with you (hare my beams, Nay make you to outftiine me, change the name Of Subje<5l into Lord ; rob you of feruice Thats due from you to me, and in me make it Duty to honour you, would you refufe me 1

Ant. Refufe you, Madam, fuch a worm as I am, Refufe what Kings upon their knees would fue for 1 Call it great Lady, by another name, An humble modefty, that would not match A Molehill with Olimpus.

Artem. He that's famous For honourable actions in the war, As you are, Antoninus, a prov'd fouldier Is fellow to a King.

Anton. If you love valour, As 't is a Kingly vertue, feek it out, And cherifh it in a King, there it mines brightefl, And yeelds the braveft luftre. Look on Epire, A Prince, in whom it is incorporate, And let it not difgrace him that he was Orecome by C&far ; it was a victory To (land fo long againfl him : had you feen him, How in one bloody fcene he did difcharge The parts of a Commander and a fouldier,

The Virgin Martir. 1 7

Wife in direction, bold in execution ;

You would have faid, great Ctefars felf excepted,

The world yeelds not his equall.

Artem. Yet I have heard, Encountring him alone in the head of his troop, You took him prifoner.

Epire. 'Tis a truth great Princeffe, I'le not detract from valour.

Anto. 'T was meer fortune, courage had no hand in it.

Theoph. Did ever man Strive fo againil his own good.

Sap. Spiritlefle villain, How I am tortur'd, by the immortall gods I now could kill him.

Diode. Hold Sapritius, hold, On our difpleafure hold.

Har. Why this would make A father mad, 'tis not to be endur'd, Your honours tainted in it.

Sap. By heaven it is : I mall think of 't.

Harp. 'T is not to be forgotten.

Artem. Nay kneel not fir, I am no raviiher, Not fo far gone in fond affection to you, But that I can retire my honour fafe. Yet fay hereafter, that thou haft neglected What but feen in poffeffion of another, Will run thee mad with envy.

Anton. In her looks Revenge is written.

Mac. As you love your life ftudy to appeafe her.

Anto. Gracious Madam hear me.

Arie. And be again refus'd ?

Anto. The tender of

My life, my fervice, not, fmce you vouchfafe it, My love, my heart, my all, and pardon me : Pardon dread Princeffe that I made fome fcruple To leave a valley of fecurity,

1 8 The Virgin Martir.

To mount up to the hill of Majefly, On which, the nearer love the nearer lightening. What knew I, but your grace made trial of me ? Durfl I prefume to embrace, where but to touch With an unmannered hand, was death ? The Fox When he faw firft the Forrefts King, the Lion, Was almoft dead with fear, the fecond view Onely a little danted him, the third He durft falute him boldly : pray you apply this, And you mall find a little time will teach me To look with more familiar eyes upon you, Then duty yet allows me.

Sap. Well excus'd.

Arte. You may redeem all yet.

Diode. And that he may Have means and opportunity to do fo, Artemia I leave you my fubftitute In fair Ccefarea.

Sap. And here as your felf We will obey and ferve her.

Diocl. Antoninus

So you prove hers, I wifh no other heir, Think on't ; be careful of your charge Theophilus ; Sapritius be you my daughters guardian. Your company I wifh, confederate Princes, In our Dalmatian wars, which finimed With victory I hope, and Maximinus Our brother and copartner in the Empire, At my requeft won to confirm as much, The Kingdomes I took from you wee'l reftore, And make you greater then you were before.

Eoceunt omnes, manent Antoninus and Macrinus.

Antoninus, Macrinus.

Anto. Oh I am loft for ever, loft Macrinus. The anchor of the wretched, hope forfakes me, And with one blaft of fortune all my light Of happineffe is put out.

The Virgin Martir. 19

Macrin. You are like to thofe That are ill onely, caufe they are too well, That furfeiting in the exceffe of bleffmgs, Call their abundance want : what could you wifh, That is not fain upon you ? honour, greatneffe, Refpect, wealth, favour, the whole world for a dowre, And with a Princeffe, whofe excelling form Exceeds her fortune.

Anton. Yet poyfon Hill is poyfon Though drunk in gold, and all thefe flattering glories To me, ready to ftarve, a painted banquet, And no eflential food : when I am fcorch'd With fire, can flames in any other quench me ? What is her love to me, Greatnefs, or Empire, That am flave to another, who alone Can give me eafe or freedome I

Macr. Sir, you point at Your dotage on the fcornfull Dorothea ; Is me (though fair) the fame day to be nam'd With beft Artemia ? In all their courfes, Wife men propofe their ends : with fweet Artemia There comes along pleafure, fecurity, Ufher'd by all that in this life is precious : With Dorothea (though her birth be noble, The Daughter to a Senator of Rome, By him left rich, yet with a private wealth, And far inferiour to yours) arrives The Emperours frown (which, like a mortal plague, Speaks death is near ;) the Princefs heavy fcorn, Under which you will fhrink ; your fathers fury, Which to refill even piety forbids ; And but remember, that Ihe Hands fufpedled A favourer of the Chriftian feel;, me brings Not danger, but affured deflruclion with her. This truly weigh'd, one fmile of great Artemia Is to be cherifht, and preferr'd before All joys in Dorothea ; therefore leave her.

Anton.- In what thou think'ft thou art moft wife, thou art

C 2

2O The Virgin Martir.

Grofsly abus'd, Macrinus, and mofl foolim. For any man to match above his rank, Is but to fell his liberty : with Artemia I ftill muft live a fervant; but enjoying Divineft Dorothea, I mail rule, Rule as becomes a husband : for the danger, Or call it, if you will, affured deftru6lion, I flight it thus. If then thou art my friend, As I dare fwear thou art, and wilt not take A Governors place upon thee, be my helper.

Macrin. You know I dare, and will do any thing, Put me unto the teft.

Anto. Go then, Macrinus, To Dorothea, tell her I have worn, In all the battels I have fought, her figure ; Her figure in my heart, which, like a Deity, Hath flill protected me : Thou canft fpeak well, And of thy choifeft language fpare a little, To make her underfland how much I love her, And how I languifh for her : Beare her thefe jewels, Sent in the way of facrifice, not fervice, As to my goddefs. All lets throwne behind me, Or fears that may deter me, fay, this morning I mean to vifit her by the name of friendlhip ; No words to contradict this.

Macr. I am yours : And if my travel this way be ill fpent, Judge not my readier will by the event. Exeunt.

Finis AElus primus.

Aftus II. Scene I.

Enter Spungius and Hercius.

Spung. 'npUrn Chriflian, wud he that firft tempted

me to have my fhoes walk upon Chrif-

tian foles, had turned me into a Capon j for I am fure

The Virgin Martir. 21

now, the ftones of all my pleafure, in this fleftily life, are cut off.

Her. So then, if any Coxcomb has a galloping defire to ride, heres a Gelding, if he can but fit him.

Spun. I kick, for all that, like a horfe \ look elfe.

Her. But thats a kickifh jade, fellow Spungius : have not I as much caufe to complain as thou haft ? When I was a Pagan, there was an infidel punk of mine, would have let me come upon truft for my cor- vetting ; a pox of your chriflian Coxatrices, they cry like poulterers wives, no mony, no cony.

Spun. Bacchus, the God of brewed wine and fugar, grand patron of rob-pots, upfie-freefie tiplers, and fuper-naculam takers ; this Bacchus, who is head- warden of Vintners hall, Ale-cunner, Maior of all vidlualing-houfes, the fole liquid benefactor to bawdy- houfes, Lanzeprezado to red nofes, and invincible Adelantado over the Armado of pimpled, deep fear- letted, rubified, and carbuncled faces.

Her. What of all this ?

Spun. This boon Bacchanalion ftinker, did I make legges to.

Her. Scurvie ones, when thou wert drunk.

Spun. There is no danger of lofing a mans years by making thefe Indures ; he that will not now and then be Calabingo, is worfe then a Calamoothe : when I was a Pagan, and kneeled to this Bacchus, I durft out-drink a Lord ; but your Chriftian Lords out-bowl me : I was in hope to lead a fober life, when I was converted, but now amongft the Chriflians, I can no fooner ftagger out of one Ale-houfe, but I reel into another : they have whole flreets of nothing but drinking-rooms, and drabbing chambers, jumbled together.

Her. Bawdy Priapus, the firft Schoolmafter that taught butchers to ftick pricks in flelh, and make it fwell, thou knoweft was the onely Ningle that I cared for, under the Moon ; but fince I left him, to follow a fcurvy Lady, what with her praying, and our failing,

22 The Virgin Martir.

if now I come to a wench, and offer to ufe her any thing hardly, (telling her, being a Chriflian me muft endure,) fhe prefently handles me as if I were a clove, and cleaves me with difdain as if I were a calves head.

Spun. I fee no remedy, fellow Hirtius, but that thou and I muft be half Pagans and half Chriftians ; for we know very fools that are Chriftians.

Hir. Right : the quarters of Chriftians are good for nothing, but to feed crows.

Spun. True : Chriftian Brokers, thou knoweft are made up of the quarters of Chriftians ; parboil one of thefe rogues, and he is not meat for a dog : no, no, I am refolved to have an Infidels heart, though in fhew I carry a Chriftians face.

Hir. Thy laft mail ferve my foot, fo will I.

Spun. Our whimpering Lady and Miftrefs feht me with two great baskets full of beef, mutton, veal, and Goofe fellow Hircius.

Hir. And Woodcock fellow Spungius.

Spun. Upon the poor lean Affe fellow, on which I ride to all the alms-women : what thinkeft thou I have done with all this good cheer.

Hir. Eat it, and be choakt elfe.

Spun. Wud my affe, basket and all were in thy maw if I did : no, as I am a demi-Pagan, I fold the victuals, and coyned the mony into pottle pots of wine.

Hir. Therein thou ftiewedft thy felf a perfect demi-Chriftian too, to let the poor beg, ftarve & hang, or die a the pip. Our puling fnotty-nofe Lady fent me out likewife with a purfe of mony, to relieve and releafe prifoners ; did I fo, think you 1

Spun. Wud thy ribs were turned into grates of iron then.

Hir. As I am a total Pagan I fwore they mould be hanged firft ; for, firra Spungius, I lay at my old ward of letchery, and cried, a pox on your two-penny wards, and fo I took fcuruy common flefh for the mony.

The Virgin Martir. 23

Spun. And wifely done ; for our Lady fending it to prifoners, had bellowed it out upon lowfie knaves, and thou to fave that labour, cafts it away upon rotten whores.

Hir. All my fear is of that pink-an-eye jack-an apes boy, her page.

Spun. As I am a pagan from my cod-peece down ward, that white faced Monkey frights me too ; I ftole but a durty pudding, laft day, out of an almf-basket, to give my dog, when he was hungry, and the peaking chitface page hit me ith' teeth with it.

Hir. Wirh the durty pudding ; fo he did me once with a cow-turd, which, in knavery, I would have crummed into ones porridge, who was half a pagan too^: the fmug dandiprat fmels us out, whatfoever we are doing.

Spun. Does he ! let him take heed I prove not his back friend : ile make him curfe his fmelling what I do.

Hir. Tis my Lady fpoils the boy ; for he is ever at her tayle, and fhe's never well but in his com pany.

Enter Angelo with a book and Taper lighted ; they feeing him, counterfeit devotion.

Ang. O ! now your hearts make ladders of your

eyes,

In mew to climb to heaven, when your devotion Walks upon crutches : where did you wafte your time, When the religious man was on his knees, Speaking the heavenly language ?

Spun. Why [fellow Angelo^ we were fpeaking in pedlars French I hope.

Hir. We ha not been idle, take it upon my word.

Ang. Have you the baskets emptied, which your

Lady

Sent from her charitable hands, to women That dwell upon her pity ?

24 The Virgin Martir.

Spun. Emptied 'em ! yes, I'de be loth to have my belly fo emptie, yet I'm fure I munched not one bit of them neither.

Ang. And went your money to the prifoners ?

Hir. Went ! no, I carried it, and with thefe fingers paid it away.

Ang. What way 1 The Divels way, the way of fin, The way of hot damnation, way of lull : And you, to wafh away the poor mans bread In bowls of drunkenneffe.

Spun. Drunkenneffe ! Yes, yes, I ufe to be drunk ; our next neighbours man, called ChriJlopJier, has often feen me drunk, has he not ?

Hir. Or me given fo to the flefh 1 my cheeks fpeak my doings.

Ang. Avant you theeves and hollow hypocrites ; Your hearts to me lie open like black books, And there I read your doings.

Spun. And what do you read in my 'heart 1

Hir. Or in mine ? Come amiable Angela, beat the flint of your braines.

Spun. And lets fee what fparks of wit fly out, to kindle your Carebruns.

Ang. Your names even brand you: you are

Spungius call'd,

And like a Spunge, you fuck up liquorous wines, Till your foul reels to hell.

Spun. To hell ! can any drunkards legs carry him fo far 1

Ang. For blood of grapes you fold the widdows

food,

And flaming them 'tis murder, what's this but hell 1 Hirdus your name, and Goatifh is your nature : You fnatch the meat out of the prifoners mouth, To fatten harlots ; is not this hell to? No angell, but the divel waits on you.

Spun. Shall I cut his throat ?

Hir. No, better burn him, for I think he is a witch : but footh, footh him.

The Virgin Martir. 25

Spun. Fellow Angela, true it is, that falling into the company of wicked he-Chriflians for my part.

Her. And (he-ones for mine, we have 'em fwim in moles hard by.

Spun. We muft confeffe, I took too much of the pot, and he of t'other hollow commoditie.

Hir. Yes indeed, we laid lill on both of us, was cofen'd the poor ; but 'tis a common thing -, many a one that counts himfelf a better Chriftian then we two, has done it, by this light.

Spun. But pray, fweet Angela, play not the tell tale to my Lady ; and if you take us creeping into any of thefe moufeholes of fin any more, let cats flea off our skins.

Hir. And put nothing but the poifon'd tails of rats into thofe skins.

Ang. Will you difhonour her fweet charity, Who fav'd you from the tree of death and mame ?

Hir. Wud I were hang'd rather than thus be told of my faults.

Spun. She took us, 'tis true, from the gallows ; yet I hope, me will not bar yeomen fprats to have their fwinge.

Ang. She comes, beware and mend.

Enter Dorothea.

Hir. Let's break his neck, and bid him mend.

Dor. Have you my meffages (fent to the poor) Deliver'd with good hands, not robbing them Of any jot was theirs.

Spun. Rob 'em Lady, I hope neither my fellow nor I am theeves.

Hir. Deliver'd with good hands, Madam, elfe let me never lick my ringers more when I eat buttered - fifh.

Doroth. Who cheat the poor, and from them pluck

their alms, Pilfer from heaven, and there are thunderbolts

26 The Virgin Mar fir.

From thence to beat them ever, do not lie ; Were you both faithfull true diftributers ?

Spun. Lie Madam, what grief is it to fee you turn Swaggerer, and give your poor minded rafcally fer- vants the lie.

Dor. I'm glad you do not ; if thofe wretched

people

Tell you they pine for want of any thing, Whifper but to mine ear, and you mail furnifh them.

Hir. Whifper, nay Lady, for my part, Tie cry whoop.

Ang. Play no more villains with fo good a Lady ; For if you do—

Spun. Are we Chriftians 1

Hir. The foul Fiend fnap all Pagans for me.

Ang. Away, and once more mend.

Spun. Takes us for Botchers.

Hir. A patch, a patch.

Dor. My Book and Taper.

Ang. Here moft holy Miflreffe.

Dor. Thy voice fends forth fuch mufick, that I

never

Was ravifhed with a more celefliall found, Were every fervant in the world like thee, So full of goodneffe, Angels would come down To dwell with us : thy name is Angelo, And like that name thou art ; get thee to reft, Thy youth with too much watching is oppreft.

Ang. No, my dear Lady, I could weary ftars, And force the wakefull Moon to lofe her eyes By my late watching, but to wait on you : When at your prayers you kneel before the Altar, Me thinks I'm fmging with fome quire in Heaven, So bleft I hold me in your company : Therefore, my moft-lov'd Miftreffe, do not bid Your boy fo ferviceable to get hence, For then you break his heart.

Dor. Be nye me ftill then ; In golden letters down Tie fet that day,

The Virgin Martir. 27

Which gave thee to me ; little did I hope To meet fuch worlds of comfort in thy felf, This little pretty body, when I comming Forth of the Temple, heard my begger-boy, My fweet fac'd godly begger-boy, crave an alms, Which with glad hand I gave, with lucky hand ; And when I took thee home, my moll chafle bofom, Me thought, was fild with no hot wanton fire, But with a holy flame, mounting fince higher, On wings of Cherubins, then did before.

Ang. Proud am I that my Ladies modeft eye So likes fo poor a fervant.

Dor. I have offer'd

Handfuls of gold but to behold thy Parents, I would leave Kingdomes, were I Queen of fome, To dwell with thy good father ; for the fon Bewitching me fo deeply with his pref^nce, He that begot him mull do't ten times more. I pray thee my fweet boy, mew me thy parents, Be not aftiam'd.

Ang. I am not : I did never Know who my mother was ; but by yon Pallace, Fil'd with bright heavenly Courtiers, I dare allure you, And pawn thefe eyes upon it, and this hand, My father is in Heaven ; and, pretty Miftrels, If your illuftrious Hour glaffe fpend his fand No worfe then yet it does, upon my life, You and I both mail meet my father there, And he mail bid you welcome.

Dor. A blefled day ; We all long to be there, but lofe the way. Exeunt.

Macrinus/>7V«</ to Antoninus enters, being met by Theo- philus and Harpax.

Theoph. Sun-God of the day guide thee Macrinus. Mac. And thee Theophilus. Theoph. Gladft thou in fuch fcorn ? I call my wilh back.

28 The Virgin Martir.

Mac. I'm in hafte.

Theo. One word, Take the leaft hand of time up : flay.

Mac. Be brief.

Theo. As thought : I prithee tell me, good Ma-

crinus,

How health and our fair Princeffe lay together This night ; for you can tell ; Courtiers have flies That buzze all news unto them.

Mac. She flept but ill.

Theo. Double thy courtefie \ how does Antoninus ?

Mac. Ill, well, ftraight, crooked, I know not how.

Theo. Once more ;

Thy head is full of Wind-mils : when does the Princeffe Fill a bed full of beauty, and bellow it On Antoninus on the wedding night *?

Mac. I know not.

Theo. No 1 thou art the Manufcript Where Antoninus writes down all his fecrets. Honefl Macrmus tell me.

Mac. Fare you well fir. Exit.

Har. Honefly is fome Fiend, and frights him

hence ; A many Courtiers love it not.

Theo. What peece

Of this Sta^te-wheel (which winds up Antoninus] Is broke, it runs fo jarringly ? The man Is from himfelf divided ; Oh thou, the eye By which I wonders fee, tell me, my Har pax, What gad-flic tickles fo this Macrinus, That up-flinging the tail, he breaks thus from me.

Har. Oh fir, his brain-pan is a bed of Snakes, Whofe flings fhoot through his eye-bals, whofe poi-

fonous fpawn

Ingenders fuch a fry of fpeckled villanies, That unleffe charms, more flrong then Adamant, Be us'd, the Romane Angels wings fhall melt, And Cafars Diadem be from his head Spurn' d by bafe feet ; th&Lawrel which he wears',

The Virgin Martir. 29

(Returning vicflor) be inforc't to kiffe

That which it hates (the fire.) And can this Ram,

This Antoninus- Engine, being made ready

To fo much mifchief, keep a fleady motion 2

His eyes and feet you fee give flrange affaults.

Theo. I'm turn'd a Marble Statue at thy language, Which printed is in fuch crabb'd Characters, It puzzles all my reading : what (i' th name Of Pluto) now is hatching 1

Har. This Macrinus The time is, upon which love errands run Twixt Antoninus and that ghoft of women, The bloudlefle Dorothea, who in prayer And meditation (mocking all your gods) Drinks up her ruby colour : yet Antoninus Plays the Endimion to this pale fac'd Moon, Courts her, feeks to catch her eyes.

Theop. And what of this ?

Har. Thefe are but creeping billows, Not got to more yet : but if Dorothea Fall on his bofome, and be fir'd with love, (Your coldefl women do fo j) had you inke Brew'd from the infernal Styx, not all that blacknefs Can make a thing fo foul as the difhonours, Difgraces, buffettings, and mofl bafe affronts Upon the bright Artemia, flar of Court, Great Cczfars daughter.

Theo. I now confler thee.

Har. Nay more, a Firmament of clouds being

fill'd

With loves artillery, mot down at once, To pafh your Gods in peeces, cannot give, With all thofe thunderbolts, fo deep a blow To the Religion there, and Pagan lore, As this ; for Dorothea hates your gods, And if me once blafl Antoninus foul, Making it foul like hers, Oh the example

2he. Eats through Ccefareas heart like liquid poyfon.

30 The Virgin Martir.

Have I invented tortures to tear Chriftians, To fee but which, could all that feel hels torments Have leave to ftand aloof here on earths ftage, They would be mad till they again defcended, Holding the pains moft horrid of fuch fouls, May-games to thofe of mine. Has this my hand Set down a Chriflians execution In fuch dire poftures, that the very hangman Fell at my foot dead, hearing but their figures ? And mall Macrinus and his fellow Mafquer Strangle me in a dance %

Har* No, on, I do hug thee, For drilling thy quick brains in this rich plot Of tortures gainil thefe Chriflians : On, I hug thee.

Theoph. Both hug and holy me j to this Dorothea, Fly thou and I in thunder.

Harp. Not for Kingdomes, Pil'd upon Kingdomes ; there's a villain Page Waits on her, whom I would not for the world Hold traffique with ; I do fo hate his fight, That mould I look on him, I muft fink down.

Theo. I will not loofe thee then, her to confound, None but this head with glories mail be crown'd.

Har. Oh, mine own as I would wilh thee. Exeunt.

Enter Dorothea, Macrinus, Angela.

Dor. My trufty Angelo, with that curious eye Of thine, which ever waits upon my bufmeffe, I prithee watch thofe my ftill-negligent fervants, That they perform my will, in what's enjoin'd them To th' good of others ; elfe will you find them flies, Not lying ftill, yet in them no good lies : Be carefull dear boy.

Ang. Yes, my fweeteft Miflrelfe. Exit.

Dor. Now fir, you may go on.

Mac. I then muft fludy A new Arithmetick, to fum up the virtues Which Antoninus gracefully become,

The Virgin Martir. 31

There is in him fo much man, fo much goodnefle, So much of honour, and of all things elfe, Which makes our being excellent, that from his flore, He can enough lend others ; yet much taken from

him,

The want mail be as little, as when Seas Lend from their bounty, to fill up the poorneffe Of needy Rivers.

Dor. Sir, he is more indebted to you for praife, than you to him that owes it.

M. If Queens viewing his prefents, paid to the

whiteneffe

Of your chaft hand alone, mould be ambitious But to be parted in their numerous mares, This he counts nothing : could you fee main armies Make battels in the quarrell of his valour, That 'tis the beft, the trueft, this were nothing ; The greatnefle of his State, his fathers voice And arm, owing Cafarea, he never boafts of; The Sun-beams which the Emperour throws upon

him,

Shine there but as in water, and guild him Not with one fpot of pride : no dearefl beauty, All thefe heap'd up together in one fcale, Cannot weigh down the love he bears to you, Being put into the other.

Dor. Could gold buy you To fpeak thus for your friend, you fir are worthy Of more then I will number ; and this your language Hath power to win upon another woman, Top of whofe heart, the feathers of this world Are gaily fluck : but all which firft you named, And now this laft, his love to me are nothing.

Mac. You make me a fad meffenger,

Enter Antoninus. But himfelf

Being come in perfon, lhall I hope hear from you, Mufick more pleafmg.

Ant. Has your ear, Macrinus,

32 The Virgin Martir.

Heard none then ?

Mac. None I like.

Ant. But can there be In fuch a noble Casket, wherein lies Beauty and chaflity in their full perfections, A rocky heart, killing with cruelty A life that's proflrated beneath your feet 1

Dor. I am guilty of a fhame I yet never knew, Thus to hold parley with you, pray fir pardon.

Ant. Good fweetnefle, you now have it, and

(hall go :

Be but fo mercifull, before your wounding me With fuch a mortall weapon, as farewel, To let me murmure to your virgin ear, What I was loath to lay on any tongue, But this mine own.

Dor. If one immodeft accent Fly out, I hate you everlaflingly.

Ant. My true love dares not do it.

Mac. Hermes infpire thee.

They whifpering below, enter above Sapritius, father to Antoninus, and Governotir of Cefarea, with him Artemia the Princeffe, Theophilus, Spungius, and Hercius.

Spun. So now, do you fee 1 our work is done ; the fifh you angle for is nibling at the hook, and therefore untrufs the Cod-piece point of our reward, no matter if the breeches of confcience fall about our heels.

The. The gold you earn is here, dam up your mouthes, and no words of it.

Her. No, nor no words from you of too much damming neither ; I know women fell them- felves daily, and are hacknied out for filver, why may not we then betray a fcurvy Miflreffe for gold?

Spun. She fav'd us from the Gallows, and only

The Virgin Martir. 33

to keep one Proverb from breaking his neck, weel hang her.

The. Tis well done, go, go, y'are my fine white boys.

Spun. If your red boys, 'tis well known, more ill- favoured faces then ours are painted.

Sap. Thofe fellows trouble us.

The. Away, away.

Hir. I to my fweet placket.

Spun. And I to my full pot. Exeunt.

Ant. Come, let me tune you ; glaze not thus your

eyes

With felf-love of a vowed virginity, Make every man your glafs, you fee our fex Do never murther propagation, We all defire your fweet fociety, And if you bar me from it, you do kill me, And of my bloud are guilty.

Art. 6 bafe villain.

Sap. Bridle your rage fweet Prmceffe.

Ant. Could not my fortunes (Rear'd higher far then yours) be worthy of you, Me thinks my dear affection makes you mine,

Dor. Sir, for your fortunes were they mines of

gold,

He that I love is richer ; and for worth You are to him lower then any flave Is to a Monarch.

Sap. So infolent, bafe Chriftian 1

Dor. Can I, with wearing out my knees before him, Get you but be his fervant, you mall boaft Y'are equal to a King.

Sap. Confufion on thee, For playing thus the lying forcereffe.

Ant. Your mocks are great ones ; none beneath

the Sun

Will I be fervant to : on my knees I beg it, Pity me wondrous maid.

Sap. I curfe thy bafeneffe.

Theo. Liflen to more.

34 The Virgin Martir.

Dor. Oh kneel not fir to me.

Ant. This knee is Embleme of an humbled

heart :

That heart which tortur'd is with your difdain, Juftly for fcorning others j even this heart, To which for pity fuch a Princeffe fues, As in her hand offers me all the world, Great Cczfars daughter.

Art. Slave thou lied.

Ant. Yet this

Is adamant to her, that melts to you In drops of blood.

Theoph. A very dog.

Ant. Perhaps

'Tis my Religion makes you knit the brow ; Yet be you mine, and ever be your own : I nere will fcrew your confcience from that power On which you Chriflians lean.

Sap. I can no longer,

Fret out my life with weeping at thee, villain : firra, Would when I got thee, the high thunder hand Had ftruck thee in the womb.

Mac. We are betraied.

Art. Is that your Idol, traitor, which thou kneel'fl

to, Trampling upon my beauty ?

Theo. Sirra, bandog, Wilt thou in pieces tear our lupiter For her 1 our Mars for her ? our Sol for her 1 A whore 1 a hell-hound, in this globe of brains ? Where a whole world of tortures for fuch furies Have fought (as in a Chaos) which mould exceed, Thefe nails mail grubbing lie from fcull to fcull, To find one horrider, then all, for you, You three.

Art. Threaten not, but ftrike ; quick vengeance

flies Into thy bofome, caitiff : here all love dies. Exeunt.

Ant. O I am thunder-flruck !

The Virgin Martir. 35

We are both ore whelm'd.

Mac. With one high raging billow.

Dor. You a fouldier, And fink beneath the violence of a woman ?

Ant. A woman ! a wrong'd Princeffe : from fuch a

flar

Blazing with fires of hate, what can be look'd for, But tragicall events ? My life is now The fubjecl of her tyranny.

Dor. That feare is bafe, Of death, when that death doth but life difplace Out of her houfe of earth ; you onely dread The ftroke, and not what follows when you are dead, There's the great fear indeed ; come, let your eyes Dwell where mine do, you'l fcorn their tyrannies.

Enter below Artemia, Sapritius, Theophilus, a guard, Angelo comes and is clofe by Dorothea.

Ar. My fathers nerves put vigour in mine arm, And I his flrength muft ufe ; becaufe I once Shed beams of favour on thee, and, with the Lion, Play'd with thee gently, when thou ftrok'fl my heart, I'le not infult on a bafe humbled prey, By lingring out thy terrors ; but with one frown Kill thee. Hence with 'em to execution ; Seize him, but let even death it felf be weary In torturing her ; I'le change thofe fmiles to (hrieks, Give the fool what file's proud of (Martirdome) In pieces rack that Bawd to.

Sap. Albeit the reverence I owe our gods and you are, in my bofome, Torrents fo ftrong, that pitty quite lies drown'd From faving this young man ; yet when I fee What face death gives him, and that a thing within

me,

Saith 't is my fon, I'm forc'd to be a man, And grow fond of his life, which thus I beg.

D 2

36 The Virgin Martir.

Art. And I deny.

Ant. Sir you difhonour me, To fue for that which I difclaim to have ; I mall more glory in my fufferings gain, Than you in giving judgement, fince I offer My blood up to your anger : nor do I kneel To keep a wretched life of mine from mine : Preferve this Temple (builded fair as yours is) And Ccefar never went in a greater triumph, Then I mail to the fcaffold.

Art. Are you fo brave, Sir, Set forward to his triumph, and let thofe two Go curfing along with him.

Dor. No, but pittying, (For my part I) that you lofe ten times more By torturing me, than I that dare your tortures, . Through all the army of my fins, I have even Labour'd to break, and cope with death to th' face ; The vifage of a hangman frights not me ; The fight of whips, racks, gibbets, axes, fires, Are fcaffoldings by which my foul climbs up To an Eternal habitation.

Theo. Ccefars imperiall daughter, hear me fpeak ; Let not this Chriflian Thing, in this her pageantry, Of proud deriding both our gods and Ccefar, Build to her felf a Kingdome in her death, Going laughing from us. No, her bittereft torment Shall be, to feel her conflancy beaten down, The bravery of her refolution lie Battered by the argument, into fuch pieces, That me again mail (on her belly) creep To kiffe the pavements of our Panim gods.

Art. How to be done ?

Theo. I'le fend my daughters to her, And they fhall turn her rocky faith to wax, Elfe fpit at me, let me be made your flaue, And meet no Romans, but a villains grave.

Art. Thy prifoner let her be then : and Sapritius,

The Virgin Martir. 37

Your fon, and that be yours, death mall be fent To him that fuffers them by voice or letters To greet each other. Rifle her eflate ; Chriflians to beggery brought grow defperate.

Dor. Still on the bread of poverty let me feed.

Exeunt*

Ang. O my admired miftrefs ! quench not out The holy fires within you, though temptations Showre down upon you : clafp thine armour on, Fight well, and thou (halt fee, after thefe wars, Thy head wear fun-beams, and thy feet touch ftars.

Enter Hircius and Spungius.

Hir. How now Angela, how ifl 1 how ift ? what thread fpins that whore, Fortune, upon her wheel now?

Spun. Comefla, comejla^ poor knave.

Hir. Com a porte vou, com a porte vou, my petite garfoone.

Spun. Me partha wee comrade, my half inch of mans flefti, how run the dice of this cheating world, ha?

Ang. Too well on your fides ; you are hid in

gold Ore head and ears.

Hir. We thank our fates, the fign of the gingle- boys hangs at the doors of our pockets.

Spun. Who wud think, that we comming forth of the arfe, as it were, or fag end of the world, mould yet fee the golden age, when fo little filver is ftirring.

Hir. Nay, who can fay any citizen is an affe, for lading his own back with money, till his foul cracks again, onely to leave his fon like a gilded coxcomb behind him ? Will not any foole take me for a wife man now, feeing me draw out of the pit of my trea- fury, this little god with his belly full of gold 1

Spun. And this full of the fame meat out of my ambrey.

38 The Virgin Martir.

Ang. That gold wilt melt to poyfon.

Spun. Poyfon ! wud it wud ; whole pintes for healths (hall down my throat.

Hir. Gold poyfon ! there's never a Ihe-thramer in Cafaria, that lives on the flail of mony, will call it fo.

Ang. Like flaves you fold your fouls for golden

drofs,

Bewitching her to death, who flept between You and the gallows.

Spun. It was an eafie matter to fave us, me being fo well backt.

Hir. The gallows and we fell out, fo me did but part us.

Ang. The mifery of that miflrefs is mine owne, She begger'd, I left wretched.

Hir. I can but let my nofe drop in forrow, with wet eyes for her.

Spun. The petticoate of her eflate is unlaced I confeffe.

Hir. Yes, and the fmock of her charity is now all to pieces.

Ang. For love you bear to her, for fome good turns Done you by me, give me one piece of filuer.

Hir. How ! a peece of filver ! if thou wert an angel of gold, I would not put thee into white money, unleffe I weighed thee, and I weigh thee not a rum.

Spun. A peece of filver! I never had but two calves in my life, and thofe my mother left me ; I will rather part from the fat of them, than from a muflard- tokens worth of argent.

Hir. And fo, fweet Nit, we crawl from thee.

Spun. Adieu, demi-dandiprat, adieu.

Ang. Stay, one word yet j you now are full of gold.

Hir. I would be forry my dog were fo full of the poxe.

Spun. Or any fow of mine of the meazles either.

The Virgin Martir. 39

Ang. Go, go, y'are beggars both, you are not

worth That leather on your feet.

Hir. Away, away boy.

Spun. Page, you do nothing but fet patches on the foles of your jefts.

Ang. I 'ra glad I tri'd your loue, which (fee) I

want not, So long as this is full.

Both. And fo long as this . . . fo long as this.

Hir. Spungius, y'are a pick-pocket,

Spun. Hircius, thou haft nimb'd . . . fo long as, not fo much money is left, as will buy a loufe.

Hir. Thou art a thiefe, and thou lieft in that gut through which thy wine runs, if thou denieft it.

Spun. Thou lieft deeper then the bottom of mine enraged pocket, if thou affrontft it.

Ang. No blows, no bitter language ; all your gold gone?

Spun. Can the Divel creep into ones breeches 1

Hir. Yes if his horns once get into the cod- peece.

Ang. Come, figh not ; I fo little am in love With that whofe lofle kills you, that fee 'tis yours, All yours, divide the heap in equall mare, So you will go along with me to prifon, And in our Miftris forrows bear a part : Say, will you ?

Both. Will we ?

Spun. If me were going to hanging, no gallows mould part us.

Hir. Let's both be turn'd into a rope of onions if we do.

Ang. Follow me then, repair your bad deeds

pail; Happy are men when their beft deeds are laft.

Spun. True Mailer Angela ; pray fir lead the way.

exit Ang.

4O The Virgin Martir.

Hir. Let him lead that way, but follow thou me this way.

Spun. I live in a layle ?

Hir. Away and mift for our felves, fhe'l do well enough there ; for prifoners are more hungry after mutton, then catch-poles after prifoners.

Spun. Let her ftarve then, if a whole Jayle will not fill her belly. Exeunt.

Finis Aftus fecundi.

Adus III. Scene I.

Enter Sapritius, Theophilus, Prieft. Califle, Chrifteta.

Sap. O Ick to the death I fear.

The. ^ I meet your forrow, With my true feeling of it.

Sap. She's a witch, A forcereffe, Theophilus ; my fon Is charmd by her enticing eyes, and like An image made of wax, her beams of beauty Melt him to nothing ; all my hopes in him, And all his gotten honours, find their grave In his ftrange dotage on her. Would when firft He faw and lov'd her, that the earth had open'd And fwallow'd both alive. The. There's hope left yet.

Sap. Not any, though the Princeffe were appeas'd, All title in her love furrenderd up ; Yet this coy Chriftian is fo tranfported With her religion, that unleffe my fon (But let him perifli firfl) drinke the fame potion, And be of her belief, fhe'l not vouchfafe

The Virgin Martir. 41

To be his lawfull wife.

Prieft. But once remov'd From her opinion, as I reft affur'd The reafon of thefe holy maids will win her, You'l find her tractable to any thing For your content or his.

Theo. If me refufe it, The Stygian damps, breeding infectious airs, The Mandrakes flirikes, the Bafilisks killing eye, The dreadfull lightning that does crufh the bones, And never fmge the skin, (hall not appear Lefie fatall to her into than my zeal, made hot With love vnto my gods ; I have defer'd it, In hope to draw backe this Apoflata, Which will be greater honour then her death, Unto her fathers faith ; and to that end Hath brought my daughters hither.

Califte. And we doubt not To do what you defire.

Sap. Let her be fent for. Profper in your good work, and were I not To attend the Princeffe, I would fee and hear How you fucceed.

The. I am commanded too, He bear you company.

Sap. Give them your Ring, To lead her as in triumph, if they win her, Before highneffe. Exit Sap.

The. Spare no promifes, Perfwafions, or threats, I conjure you ; If you prevail, tis the moft glorious work You ever undertook.

Enter Dorothea and Angelo.

Prie. She comes. Theo. We leave you ;

Be conftant and be carefull. Exeunt Theop. & Prieft. CaL We are forry

42 The Virgin Martir.

To meet you under guard.

Dor. But I more griev'd You are at liberty ; fo well I loue you, That I could wifh, for fuch a caufe as mine, You were my fellow prifoners ; prithee Angela, Reach us fome chairs. Pleafe you fit ?

Cat. We thank you : Our vifit is for love, love to your fafety.

Chrift. Our conference muft be private, pray you

therefore Command your boy to leave us.

Dor. You may truft him With any fecret that concerns my life ; Fallhood and he are flrangers ; had you, Ladies, Been bleft with fuch a fervant, you had never Forfook that way (your journey even half ended) That leads to joys eternal. In the place Of loofe lafcivious mirth, he would have ftirr'd you To holy mediations ; and fo far He is from flattery, that he would have told you, Your pride being at the height, how miferable And wretched things you were, that for an hour Of pleafure here have made a defperate fale Of all your right in happineffe hereafter. He muft not leave me, without him I fall ; In this life he is my fervant, in the other A wifhed companion.

Ang. Tis not in the Divel, Nor all his wicked arts, to make fuch goodneffe.

Dor. But you were fpeaking, Lady.

CaL As a friend

And lover of your fafety, and I pray you So to receive it j and if you remember How near in love our parents were, that we Even from the cradle, were brought up together. Our amity encreafmg with our years, We cannot ftand fufpecled.

Dor. To the purpofe.

Col. We come then as good angels, Dorothea,

The Virgin Martir. 43

To make you happy, and the means fo eafie, That, be not you an enemy to your felf, Already you enjoy it.

Chrift. Look on us,

Ruin'd as you are, once, and brought unto it By your perfwafion.

Cal But what follow'd. Lady \ Leaving thofe bleffings which our gods give freely, And fhowr'd upon us with a prodigal hand, As to the noblie born, youth, beauty, wealth, And the free ufe of thefe without controul, Check, curb or flop, (fuch is our Laws indulgence,) All happineffe forfook us, bonds and fetters For amorous twins, the rack, and hangmans whips In place of choife delights, our parents curfes In Head of bleffings, fcorn, neglect, contempt Fell thick upon us.

Chri. This confider'd wifely, We made a faire retreat ; and (reconcil'd To our forfaken gods) we live again In all profperity.

Cal. by our example, Bequeathing mifery to fuch as love it, Learn to be happy : the Chriflian yokes to heavy For fuch a dainty neck ; it was fram'd rather To be the mrine of Venus, or a pillar, More precious then Chryflal, to fupport Our Cupids Image ; our Religion, Lady, Is but a varied pleafure, yours a toil Slaves would fhrink under.

Dor. Have you not cloven feet ? are you not

Divels ?

Dare any fay fo much, or dare I hear it Without a vertuous and religious anger ? Now to put on a Virgin modefty, Or maiden filence, when his power is queflion'd That is omnipotent, were a greater crime Than in a bad caufe to be impudent. Your gods, your temples, brothel houfes rather,

44 The Virgin Martir.

Or wicked actions of the worft of men,

Purfu'd and practis'd, your religious rites

O call them rather jugling myfleries,

The baits and nets of hell, your fouls the prey

For which the Divel angles, your falfe pleafures

A fleep defcent by which you headlong fall

Into eternal torments.

Cal. Do not tempt Our powerful gods.

Dor. Which of your powerful gods, Your gold, your filver, braffe, or woodden ones, That can nor do me hurt, nor protect you ? Moft pittied women, will you facrifice To fuch, or call them gods or goddeffes, Your Parents would difdain to be the fame, Or you your felves ? O blinded ignorance, Tell me Cali/le, by the truth I charge you, Or any thing you hold more dear, would you To have him deifi'd to poflerity, Defire your Father an Adulterer, A Ravifher, almoft a Parricide, A vile incefluous wretch ?

Caltfte. That piety And duty anfwer for me.

Dor. Or you Chrifleta, To be hereafter regiflred a goddeffe, Give your chad body up to the embraces Of Goatifh luft, have it writ on your forehead, This is the common whore, the proftitute, The miftreffe in the arts of wantonnefs, Knows every trick and labyrinth of defires That are immodefl.

Chrifleta. You judge better of me, Or my affection is ill placed on you ; Shall I turn flrumpet ?

Dor. No I think you would not ; Yet Venus, whom you worlhip, was a whore ; Mora the Foundrefle of the publick Stews ; And has for that her facrifice : your great god,

The Virgin Martir. 45

Your lupiter, a loofe adulterer,

Inceftuous with his fitter : read but thofe

That have canoniz'd them, you'l find them worfe

Then, in chafl language, I can fpeak them to you.

Are they immortal then, that did partake

Of humane weakneffe, and had ample (hare

In mens mofl bafe affe6lions 1 fubject to

Unchaft loves, anger, bondage, wounds, as men are ?

Here lupiter to ferve his lufl turn'd Bull,

The fhip indeed in which he flole Europa.

Neptune, for gain, builds up the walls of Troy

As a day-labourer -, Apollo keeps

Admetus fheep for bread ; the Lemnian fmith

Sweats at the Forge for hire ; Prometheus here,

With his flill growing Liver feeds the vulture ;

Saturn bound fall in hell with adamant chains ;

And thoufands more, on whom abufed errour

Beftows a deitie : will you then dear fitters,

For I would have you fuch, pay your Devotions

To things of leffe power then your felves ?

Califle. We wormip Their good deeds in their images.

Dor. By whom fafhion'd ? By finful men 1 He tell you a fhort tale, Nor can you but confeffe it was a true one. A King of sEgypt being to erect The Image of Ofiris, whom they honour, Took from the Matrons necks the richett Jewels, And pureft gold, as the materials To finifh up his work ; which perfected, With all folemnity he fet it up, To be ador'd, and ferv'd himfelf his idol, Defiring it to give him victory Againft his enemies : but being overthrown, Enrag'd againtt his god (thefe are fine gods, Subiect to humane fury) he took down The fencelefs thing, and melting it again, He made a bafon, in which Eunuchs walh'd His Concubines feet ; aud for this fordid ufe

46 The Virgin Martir.

Some moneths it ferv'd : his Miftreffe proving falfe, As mofl indeed do fo, and grace concluded Between him and the Priefts, of the fame bafon He made his god again : think, think of this, And then confider, if all worldly honours, Or pleafures that do leave (harp flings behind them, Have power to win fuch as have reafonable fouls, To put their truft in droffe.

Cal. Oh that I had been born Without a Father.

Chr. Piety to him Hath ruin'd us for ever.

Dor. Think not fo ; You may repair all yet ; the attribute That fpeaks his Godhead moll, is, mercifull, Revenge is proper to the Fiends you worfhip, Yet cannot ftrike without his leave. You weep, Oh tis a heavenly mower, celeftial balm To cure your wounded confcience, let it fall, Fall thick upon it, and when that is fpent, He help it with another of my tears : And may your true repentance prove the child Of my true forrow, never mother had A birth fo happy.

Cal. We are caught our ielves, That came to take you ; and affur'd of conqueft, We are your captives.

Dor. And in that you triumph, Your victory had been eternal loffe, And this your loffe immortal gain ; fix here, And you mail feel your felves inwardly arm'd Gainft tortures, death, and hell, but take heed,

fitters, That or through weakneffe, threats, or mild perfwa-

fions,

Though of a father, you fall not into A fecond and a worft Apoftacie.

Cal. Never, oh never ; fteel'd by your example, We dare the worft of tyranny.

The Virgin Martir. 47

Chr. Here's our warrant, You (hall along, and witnefle it

Dor. Be confirm'd then, And reft affur'd, the more you fuffer here, The more your glory, you to heaven more dear. Exeunt.

Enter Artemia, Sapritius, Theophilus, Harpax.

Arte. SapritiuS) though your fon deferve no pity, We grieve his ficknefle, his contempt of us We caft behind us, and look back upon His fervice done to Ccefar, that weighs down Our jufl difpleafure : if his malady Have growth from his reftraint, or that you think His libertie can cure him, let him have it, Say we forgive him freely.

Sap. Your grace binds us Ever your humbleft Vaffals.

Art* Ufe all means For his recovery ; though yet I love him, I will not force affection : if the Chriftian, Whofe beauty hath out-rival'd me, be won To be of our belief, let him enjoy her, That all may know when the caufe wills, I can Command my own defires.

The. Be happy then, My Lord Sapritius, I am confident, Such eloquence and fweet perfwafion dwels Upon my daughters tongues, that they will work her To any thing they pleafe.

Sap. I wilh they may, Yet 'tis no eafie task to undertake, To alter a perverfe and obftinate woman. AJhout with-

Art. What means this fhout. /«, loud mufick.

Sap. 'Tis feconded with mufick, Enter Sempronius. Triumphant mufick, ha !

Semp. My Lord, your daughters, The pillars of our faith, having converted, For fo report gives out, the Chriftian Lady,

48 The Virgin Martir.

The Image of great lupiter borne before them, Sue for acceffe.

The. My foul divin'd as much, Bleft be the time when firft they faw this light, Their mother when me bore them to fupport My feeble age, fild not my longing heart With fo much joy, as they in this good work Have thrown upon me.

Enter Prieft with the Image of lupiter, Incenfe and Cenfers, followed by Califte, and Chrifleta, leading Dorothea.

Welcome, oh thrice welcome

Daughters, both of my body, and my mind ;

Let me embrace in you my bliffe, my comfort ;

And Dorothea now more welcome too,

Then if you never had fain off : I am ravifh'd

With the exceffe of joy, fpeak happy daughters

The bleft event.

Cal. We never gain'd fo much By any undertaking.

The. O my dear girle, Our gods reward thee.

Dor. Nor was ever time On my part better fpent.

ChrL We are all now Of one opinion.

Theo. My befl Chrifteta, Madam, if ever you did grace to worth, Vouchfafe your Princely hands.

Art. Moft willingly : Do you refufe it 1

Cal. Let us firft deferve it.

The. My own child flill ; here fet our god, prepare The incenfe quickly : come fair Dorothea^ I will my felf fupport you, now kneel down, And pay your vows to lupiter.

Dor. I mall do it

The Virgin Martir. 49

Better by their example.

The. They (hall guide you, They are familiar with the facrifice ; Forward my twins of comfort, and to teach her Make a joint offering.

Chri. Thus. They both f pit at the /mage,

CaL And thus. throw it down, andfpurn it,

Har. Profane

And impious, ftand you now like a Statue 1 Are you the Champion of the Gods ? Where is Your holy zeal, your anger ?

The. I am blafted,

And, as my feet were rooted here, I find I have no motion : I would I had no fight too ; Or if my eyes can ferve to any ufe, Give me (thou injur'd power) a fea of tears, To expiate this madneffe in my daughters ; For being themfelves, they would have trembled at So blafphemous a deed in any other. For my fake, hold a while thy dreadfull thunder, And give me patience to demand a reafon For this accurfed acl.

Dor. Twas bravely done.

The. "Peace damn'd Enchantrefs, peace. I mould

look on you

With eyes made red with fury, and my hand, That (hakes with rage, mould much out-ftrip my

tongue,

And feal my vengeance on your hearts ; but nature To you that have fain once, bids me again To be a father. Oh how durfl you tempt The anger of great lovel

Dor. Alack poor love, He is no Swaggerer, how fmug he ftands, Hee'l take a kick or any thing.

Sap. Stop her mouth.

Dor. It is the ancientfl godling ; do not fear him, He would not hurt the thief that ftole away

£

50 The Virgin Martir.

Two of his golden locks, indeed he could not ; And ftill tis the fame quiet thing.

The. Blafphemer, Ingenious cruelty fhall punifh this, Thou art paft hope : but for you yet dear daughters, Again bewitcht, the dew of mild forgiveneffe May gently fall, provided you deferve it With true contrition : be your felves again j Sue to the offended Diety.

Chr. Not to be The Miftreffe of the earth.

Col. I will not offer

A grain of incenfe to it, much lefle kneel ; Nor look on it, but with contempt and fcorn, To have a thoufand years confer'd upon me, Of worldly bleffings : we profeffe our felves To be like Dorothea, Chriflians, And owe her for that happineffe.

The. My ears

Receive in hearing this, all deadly charms, Powerfull to make man wretched.

Art. Are thefe they You brag'd could convert others ?

Sap. That want flrength To fland themfelves 1

Har. Your honour is ingag'd, The credit of our caufe depends upon it, Something you mufl do fuddenly.

The. And I will.

Har. They merit death, but falling by your hand, 'Twill be recorded for a jufl revenge, And holy fury in you.

The. Do not blow,

The Furnace of a wrath thrice hot already ; ^Etna is in my brefl, wildfire burns here, Which onely bloud mufl quench : incenfed power, Which from my infancy I have ador'd, Look down with favourable beams upon

The Virgin Martir. 51

The facrifice (though not allow'd thy Pried)

Which I will offer to thee j and be pleas'd,

(My fierie zeal inciting me to ac~l it)

To call that juftice, others may (lile murther.

Come you accurfed, thus by the hair I drag you

Before this holy altar, thus look on you,

Leffe pittifull than tygers to their prey.

And thus, with mine own hand, I take that life

Which I gave to you. kits them.

Dor. O mod cruel Butcher.

The. My anger ends not here j hells dreadfull

Porter

Receive into thy ever open gates Their damned fouls, and let the furies whips On them alone be wafted : and when death Clofes thefe eies, 'twill be Elizium to me, To hear their fhreeks and howlings ; make me, Pluto, Thy inftrument to furnim thee with fouls Of this accurfed fe<5l, nor let me fall, Till my fell vengeance hath confum'd them all.

Exit with Harpax hugging him.

Enter Artemia laughing.

Art. 'Tis a brave zeal.

Dor. O call him back again, Call back your hangman, here's one prifoner left To be the fubjecl of his knife.

Art. Not fo.

We are not fo near reconcil'd unto thee ; Thou malt not perifh fuch an eafie way : Be (he your charge, Sapritius, now, and fuffer None to come near her, till we have found out Some torments worthy of her.

Ang. Courage Miftris, Thefe Martyrs but prepare your glorious fate, You (hall exceed them and not imitate. Exeunt.

Enter Spungius, and Hircius, ragged, at feverall doors. Hir. Spungius.

E 2

52 The Virgin Martir.

Spun. My fine rogue, how is it ? how goes this totterd world 1

Hir. Haft any money 1

Spun. Money ! no : the tavern-Ivy clings about my money and kils it. Haft thou any money 1

Hir. No : my money is a mad Bull, and finding any gap opened, away it runs.

Spun. I fee then, a Tavern and a Bawdy-houfe have faces much alike, the one has red grates next dore, the tother has peeping holes within dores ; the tavern hath evermore a bufh, the bawdy houfe, fome- times neither hedge nor bufh. From a tavern a man comes reeling, from a bawdy houfe not able to ftand. In the tavern, you are coufen'd with paltry wine, in a bawdy houfe by a painted whore : money may have wine, and a whore will have money ; but neither can you cry, Drawer you rogue; or keep door rotten bawd, without a filver whiftle ; we are juftly plagued therefore for running from our Miftrefs.

Hir. Thou did' ft, I did not ; yet I had run too, but that one gave me turpentine pils, and that ftaid my running.

Spun. Well the thred of my life is drawn through the needle of neceffity, whofe eye looking upon my lowfie breeches, cries out it cannot mend 'em, which fo pricks the linings of my body, and thofe are, heart, lights, lungs, guts, and midriff, that I beg on my knees, to have Atropos (the tailer to the deftinies) to take her fhears, and cut my thred in two, or to heat the Iron goofe of mortality, and fo prefs me to death.

Hir. Sure thy father was fome botcher, and thy hungry tongue bit off thefe fhreds of complaints, to patch up the elbows of thy nitty eloquence.

Spun. And what was thy father ?

Hir. A low minded Cooler ; a Cobler whofe zeal fet many a woman upright, the remembrance of whofe awl, I now having nothing, thrufts fuch fcurvy flitches into my foul, that the heel of my happinefs has gone awry.

The Virgin Martir. 53

Spun. Pitie that ere thou trod'ft thy fliooe awry.

Hir. Long I cannot laft ; for all fowterly wax of comfort melting away, and mifery taking the length of my foot, it boots not me to fue for life, when all my hopes are feam-rent, and go wetlhod.

Spun. This (hews th'art a Coblers fon, by going through flitch : O Hircius, wud thou and I were fo happy to be coblers.

Hir. So would I ; for both of us being now weary of our lives, mould then be fure of fhoomakers ends.

Spun. I fee the beginning of my end, for I am almofl flarv'd.

Hir. So am not I, but I am more then familh'd.

Spun. All the members of my bodie are in rebellion one againft another.

Hir. So are mine, and nothing but a Cook, being a conflable, can appeafe them, prefenting to my nofe, inflead of his painted ftaff, a fpit full of rofl-meat.

Spun. But in this rebellion, what uprores do they make ! my belly cries to my mouth, why do'ft not gape and feed me ?

Hir. And my mouth fets out a throat to my hand, why doft not thou lift up meat, and cram my chops with it?

Spun. Then my hand hath a fling at mine eyes, becaufe they look not out, and mark for victuals.

Hir. Which mine eyes feeing, full of tears, cry aloud, and curie my feet, for not ambling up and down to feed Colon, fithence if good meat be in any place, 'tis known my feet can fmell.

Spun. But then my feet, like lazie rogues, lie flill, and had rather do nothing, then run to and fro to purchafe any thing.

Hir. Why, among fo many millions of people, It mould thou and I onely be miferable totterdemalions, M rag-a-muffins, and lowfy defperates ?

Spun. Thou art a meer lam-an-o, lam-an-as ; con- fider the whole world, and 'tis as we are.

54 The Virgin Martir.

Hir. Lowfie, beggarly, thou whorfon Affa F&tida.

Spun. Worfe ; all totterings, all out of frame, thou Fooliamini.

Hir. As how arfnick : come make the world fmart.

Sp. Old Honor goes on crutches, beggery rides caroched, honeit men make feafts, knaves fit at tables, cowards are lapt in velvet, fouldiers (as we) in rags, beauty turns whore, whore bawd, and both die of the pox : why then, when all the world flumbles, mould thou and I walk upright ?

*•

Enter Angelo.

Hir. Stop, look who's yonder.

Spun. Fellow Angelo ! how does my little man ? well ?

Ang. Yes, and would you did fo : where are your clothes ?

Hir. Clothes ! You fee every woman almoft go in her loofe gowne, and why mould not we have our cloathes loofe ?

Spun. Wud they were loofe 1

Ang. Why, where are they ?

Spun. Where many a velvet cloak, I warrant, at this hour, keeps them company ; they are pawnd to a broker.

Ang. Why pawnd, where's all the gold I left with you?

Hir. The gold ? we put that into a Scriveners hands, and he has coufen'd us.

Spun. And therefore, I prithee Angelo, if thou haft another purfe, let it be confiscate and brought to devaftation.

Ang. Are you made all of lies ? I know which

way

Your gilt-wing' d pieces flew ; I will no more, Be mockd by you : be forry for your riots, Tame your wild flefli by labour, eat the bread

The Virgin Martir. 55

Got with hard hands : let forrow be your whip

To draw drops of repentance from your heart

When I read this amendment in your eyes,

You mail not want, till then, my pitie dies. Exit.

Spu. Ifl not a fhame, that this fcurvy Puerilis mould give us lefions 1

Hir. I have dwelt, thou knowft, a long time in the Suburbs of the confcience, and they are ever bawdy ; but now my heart mall take a houfe within the walls of honefty.

Enter Harpax aloof.

Sp. O you drawers of wine, draw me no more to the bar of beggery ; the found of fcore a pottle of fack, is worfe than the noife of a fcolding oyfter wench, or two cats incorporating.

Har. This muft not be, I do not like when con fcience

Thaws ; keep her frozen Hill : how now my mafters ? Dejected, drooping, drown'd in tears, clothes torn, Lean and ill colour'd, fighing ! What's the whirl-wind Which raifeth all thefe mifchiefs ? I have feen you Drawn better on't. O ! but a fpirit told me You both would come to this, when in you thruft Your felves into the fervice of that Lady, Who mortly now muft die : where's now her praying 1 What good got you by wearing out your feet, To run on fcurvy errands to the poor, And to bear money to a fort of rogues, And lowfie prifoners ?

Hir. Pox on 'em, I never profper'd fmce I did it.

Spun. Had I been a Pagan fill, I could not have fpit white for want of drink ; but come to any Vintner now, and bid him trufl me, becaufe I turn'd Chriftian, and he cries puh.

Har. Y'are rightly ferv'd; before that peevim

Lady Had to do with you, women, wine, and money

56 The Virgin Martir.

Flow'd in abundance with you, did it not ?

Hir. Oh ! thofe dayes, thofe dayes.

Har. Beat not your breafts, tear not your hair in

madnefs,

Thofe dayes fhall come again (be rul'd by me) And better, (mark me) better.

Spun. I have feen you fir, as I take it, an atten dant on the Lord Theophilus.

Har. Yes, yes, in (hew his fervant: but hark

hither, Take heed no body liftens.

Spun. Not a Moufe ftirs.

Har. I am a Prince difguis'd.

Hir. Difguis'd? how? drunk?

Har. Yes my fine boy, He drink too, and be

drunk ;

I am a Prince, and any man by me, (Let him but keep my rules) mall foon grow rich, Exceeding rich, mofl infinitely rich ; He that mall ferve me, is not ftarv'd from pleafures As other poor knaves are ; no, take their fill.

Spun. But that fir, we are fo ragged

Har. You'l fay, you'd ferve me.

Hir. Before any mafter under the Zodiack.

Har. For clothes no matter, I have a mind to both. And one thing I like in you, now that you fee The bonefire of your Ladies Hate burnt out, You give it over, do you not?

Her. Let her be hang'd.

Spun. And pox'd.

Harp. Why now y'are mine. Come let my bofome touch you.

Spun. We have bugs fir.

Har. There's mony, fetch your clothes home, ther's for you.

Hir. Avoid Vermin e : give over our miftreffe ! a man cannot profper worfe, if he ferve the Devill.

Har. How ? the divel ! He tell you what now of the Divel ;

The Virgin Martir. 57

He's no fuch horrid creature, cloven footed, Black, faucer-ey'd, his noftrils breathing fire, As thefe lying Chriflians make him.

Both. No !

Har. He's more loving to man, than man to man is.

Hir. Is he fo ! wud we two might come ac quainted with him.

Har. You (hall : he's a wondrous good fellow, loves a cup of wine, a whore, anything, if you have mony, its ten to one but lie bring him to fome Tavern to you, or other.

Sp« He befpeak the beft room in 'th houfe for him.

Har. Some people he cannot endure.

Hir. Wee'l give him no fuch caufe.

Har. He hates a Civil Lawyer, as a fouldier does peace.

Spun. How a Commoner 1

Har. Loves him from the teeth outward.

Spun. Pray my Lord and Prince, let me encounter you with one foolim queftion : does the Divel eat any Mace in's broth ?

Har. Exceeding much, when his burning feaver takes him, and then he has the knuckles of a Bailiff, boyled to his breakfafl.

Hir. Then my Lord, he loves a Catchpole, does he not ?

Har. As a Bear-ward does a dog. A Catchpole ! he has fworn, if ever he dies, to make a Serieant his heir, and a Yeoman his overfeer.

Spun. How if he come to any great mans gate, will the Porter let him come in, fir %

Har. Oh he loves Porters of great mens gates, becaufe they are ever fo near the wicket.

Hir. Doe not they whom he makes much on, for all his flroking their cheeks, lead hellim lives under him?

Har. No, no, no, no, he will be damned before

58 The Virgin Martir.

he hurts any man : do but you (when you are throughly acquainted with him) ask for any thing, fee if it does not come.

Spun. Any thing !

Har. Call for a delicate rare whore, fhe's brought you.

Hir. Oh my elbow itches : will the Divel keep the door?

Har. Be drunk as a beggar, he helps you home.

Spun. O my fine divel ! fome watchman I war rant ; I wonder who's his Conftable 1

Har. Will you fwear, roar, fwagger ? he claps you.

Hir. How ? ath' chops 1

Har. No, ath' moulder, and cries, O my brave boy. Will any of you kill a man ?

Spun. Yes, yes, I, I.

Har. What is his word ? hang, hang, tis nothing. Or ftab a woman 1

Hir. Yes, yes, I, I.

Har. Here's the worft word he gives you, a pox on't, go on.

Hir. O inveigling rafcal ! I am ravifhd.

Har. Go, get your clothes, turn up your glafs of

youth,

And let the fands run merrily ; nor do I care From what a lavifh hand your money flies, So you give none away, feed beggars.

Hir. Hang 'em.

Har. And to the fcrubbing poor.

Hir. He fee 'em hang'd firft.

Har. One fervice you muft do me.

Both. Any thing.

Har. Your miflrefs Dorothea, ere me fuffers, Is to be put to tortures, have you hearts To tear her into fhreekes, to fetch her foul Up in the pangs of death, yet not to die.

Hir. Suppofe this (he, and that I had no hands, here's my teeth.

The Virgin Mar fir. 59

Spun. Suppofe this (he, and that I had no teeth, here's my nails.

Hir. But will not you be there fir ?

Har. No, not for hils of Diamonds ; the grand

Matter

Who fchools her in the Chriftian difcipline, Abhors my company, mould I be there, You'd think all hell broke loofe, we mould fo quarrel. Plie you this bufmeffe ; he her flelh who fpares, Is loft, and in my love never more mares. Exit.

Spun. Here's a mailer you rogue.

Hir. Sure he cannot chufe but have a horrible number of fervants. Exeunt.

Finis Aftus tertii.

A6lus IV. Scene I.

A bed thru/I out, Antoninus upon itftck, with Phyficians about him, Sapritius and Macrinus.

Sap. f~\ You that are half Gods, lengthen that

W life Their dieties lend us, turn ore all the volumes

Of your myfterious sEfculapian fcience,

'T encreafe the number of this young mans dayes,

And for each minute of his time prolong'd,

Your fee (hall be, a piece of Roman gold

With Ccefars (lamp, fuch as he (ends his Captains

When in the wars they earn well : do but fave him

And as he is half my felf be you all mine.

Dott. What art can do, we promife, Phyficks hand As apt is to deftroy as to preferve, If heaven make not the medicine ; all this while Our skill hath combat held with his difeafe ; But tis fo arm'd, and a deep melancholy,

60 The Virgin Martir.

To be fuch in part with death, we are in fear The grave muft mock our labours.

Mac. I have been

His keeper in this ficknefle, with fuch eyes As I have feen my mother watch ore me, And from that obfervation, fure I find, It is a midwife mud deliver him.

Sap. Is he with child 1 a midwife !

Mac. Yes, with child, And will I fear lofe life, if by a woman He is not brought to bed : ftand by his pillow Some little while, and in his broken flumbers, Him mail you hear cry out on Dorothea, And when his arms flie open to catch her, Clofing together, he falls faft aileep, Pleas'd with embracings of her airy form : Phyfitians but torment him, his difeafe Laughs at their gibrifh language ; let him hear The voice of Dorothea, nay, but the name, He ftarts up with high colour in his face. She or none cures him, and how that can be, (The Princeffe ftridl command barring that happinefs) To me impomble feems.

Sap. To me it mail not. He be no fubjecl to the greatefl Ccefar Was ever crown d with Lawrel, rather then ceafe To be a father.

Mac. Silence, fir, he wakes.

Anto. Thou kilft me, Dorothea, oh Dorothea.

Mac. Shee's here, I enjoy her.

Anton. Where 1 why do you mock me ? Age on my head hath ftuck no white hairs yet, Yet I'm an old man, a fond doting fool Upon a woman*; I to buy her beautie, (Truth I am bewitched) offer my life, And fhe for my acquaintance hazards hers, Yet for our equal fufferings, none holds out A hand of pitie.

Doft. Let him have fome mufick.

The Virgin Martir. 61

Ant. Hell on your fidling.

Doft. Take again your bed, fir, Sleep is a foveraign Phyfick.

Ant. Take an affes head, fir, Confufion on your fooleries, your charms. Thou ftinking glifter-pipe : where's the god of reft, Thy pills, and bafe Apothecary drugs, Threatned to bring unto me 1 Out you impoflors, Quackfalving, cheating Mountebanks, your skill, Is to make found men fick, and fick men kill.

Mac. O be your felf, dear friend.

Ant. My felf, Macrinus ? How can I be my felf, when I am mangled Into a thoufand peeces 1 here moves my head, But where's my heart ? Where ever, that lies dead.

Enter Sapritius, dragging in Dorothea by the hair, Angelo attending.

Sap. Follow me, thou damn'd forcerefs, call up

thy fpirits,

And (if they can) now let 'em from my hand Untwine thefe witching hairs,

Ant. I am that fpirit : Or if I be not, (were you not my father) One made of iron mould hew that hand in peeces, That fo defaces this fweet monument Of my loves beauty.

Sap. Art thou fick ?

Ant. To death.

Sap. Wouldfl thou recover ?

Ant. Would I live in blifs 1

Sap. And do thine eyes moot daggers at that man That brings thee health ?

Ant. It is not in the world.

Sap. Is't here ?

Anton. O treafure, by enchantment lockt In caves as deep as hell, am I as near ?

Sap. Break that enchanted cave, enter, and rifle

62 The Virgin Martir.

The fpoils thy luft hunts after ; I defcend

To a bafe office and become thy Pandar

In bringing thee this proud Thing; make her thy

whore,

Thy health lies here ; if me deny to give it, Force it ; imagine thou affault'fl a towne Weak wall : too't, 'tis thine own, beat but this down. Come, and (unfeen) be witnefle to this batterie, How the coy ftrumpet yeelds.

Do ft. Shall the bey flay, fir ?

Sap. No matter for the boy, Pages are us'd to thefe odd bawdy Shufflings, and indeed, are thofe Little young makes in a Furies head Will fling worfe then the great ones ; Let the Pimp ftay. Exeunt afide.

Dor. O guard me Angels, What Tragedy muft begin now 1

Ant. When a Tyger

Leaps into a timerous heard, with ravenous Jaws, Being hunger flarv'd, what tragedy then begins ?

Dor. Death, I am happy fo ; you hitherto Have ftill had goodnefs fparM within your eyes, Let not that orb be broken.

Ang. Fear not Miflreffe, If he dare oifer violence, we two Are ftrong enough for fuch a fickly man.

Dor. What is your horrid purpofe fir, your eye Bears danger in it $

Ant. I muft.

Dor. What ?

Sap. Speak it out.

Ant. Climb that fweet virgin tree.

Sap. Plague a your trees.

Ant. And pluck that fruit which none (I think ever) tafted.

Sap. A fouldier and ftand fumbling fo.

Dor. O kill me, Kneels.

And heaven will take it as a facrifice,

The Virgin Martir. 63

But if you play the Raviftier, there is A hell to fwallow you.

Sap. Let her fwallow thee.

Ant. Rife ; for the Roman Empire (Dorothea) I would not wound thine honour ; pleafures forc'd Are unripe apples, fowr, not worth the plucking : Yet let me tell you, 'tis my Fathers will, That I mould feize upon you as my prey, Which I abhor, as much as the blackeft fin The villany of man did ever act.

Sapritius breaks in and Macrinus,

Ang. Die happy for this language.

Sap. Die a flave, A blockifli ideot.

Mac. Dear fir, vex him not.

Sap. Yes, and vex thee too; both I think are

geldings :

Cold, phlegmatick baflard, th'art no brat of mine ; One fpark of me, when I had heat like thine, By this had made a bone-fire : a tempting whore (For whom th'art mad) thruft even into thine arms, And fland'ft thou puling 1 Had a Tailor feen her At this advantage, he, with his croffe capers, Had ruffled her by this ; but thou (halt curfe Thy dalliance, and here, be/ore her eyes, Shalt tear thy flefti in peeces, when a flave In hot luft bathes himfelf, and gluts thofe pleafures Thy niceneffe durft not touch. Call out a flave, You Captain of our guard, fetch a flave hither.

Ant What will you do, dear fir ?

Sap. Teach her a trade, which many a one would

learn In leffe then half an hour, to play the whore.

Enter a Slave.

Macr. A flave is to me, what now ? Sap. Thou haft bones and flefti

64 The Virgin Martir.

Enough to ply thy labour : from what countrie Wert thou tane prifoner, here to be our flave 1

Slave. From Brittain.

Sap. In the Weft Ocean 1

Slave. Yes.

Sap. An Ifland 1

Slave. Yes.

Sap. I am fitted ; of all nations Our Roman fwords ever conquer'd, none comes near The Brittain for true whoring : firrah fellow, What wouldft thou do to gain thy Liberty ?

Sla. Do ! Liberty ! Fight naked with a Lion, Venture to pluck a ftandard from the heart Of an arm'd Legion : Liberty ! I'de thus Beftride a rampire, and defiance fpit I'th face of death, then, when the battering Ram Were fetching his carreer backward, to pam Me with his horns in peeces : to fhake my chains off, And that I could not do't but by thy death, Stoodft thou on this dry fhore, I on a rock Ten Pyramedes high, down would I leap to kill thee, Or die my felf : What is for man to do, He venture on, to be no more a flave.

Sap. Thou malt then be no flave ; for I will fet

thee

Upon a peece of work is fit for man, Brave for a Brittain : drag that thing afide, And ravifh her.

Slave. And ravifh her! is this your manly

fervice ?

A Divel fcorns to doo 't ; tis for a beaft, A villain, not a man : I am as yet But half a flave ; but when that work is pafl, A damned whole one, a black ugly flave, The flave of all bafe flaves ; do't thy felf, Roman, Tis drudgery fit for thee.

Sap. He's bewitch'd too : Bind him, and with a Baftinado give him Upon his naked belly, 200. blows.

The Virgin Martir. 65

Sla. Thou art more flave then I. Exit carried in.

Dor. That power fupernal, on whom waits my

foul, Is Captain ore my chaftity.

Ant. Good fir, give ore, The more you wrong her, your felfe's vex'd the more.

Sap. Plagues light on her and thee : thus down I

throw

Thy harlot thus by the hair, nail her to earth. Call in ten flaves, let every one difcover What luft defires, and furfet here his fill : Call in ten flaves.

Ang. They are come, fir, at your call.

Sap. Oh oh. Falls down.

Enter Theophilus.

Theo. Where is the Governour ?

Ant. There's my wretched father.

Theo. My Lord Sapritius ; he's not dead; my

Lord: That Witch there.

Ant. 'Tis no Roman Gods can ftrike Thefe fearfull terrors : O thou happy maid, Forgive this wicked purpofe of my father.

Dor. I do.

The. Gone, gone, he's peppered : 'tis thou Haft done this ac~l infernall.

Dor. Heaven pardon you,

And if my wrongs from thence pull vengeance down (I can no miracles work) yet from my foul, Pray to thofe powers I ferve, he may recover,

The. He ftirs, help, raife him up j my Lord.

Sap. Where am I ?

The. One cheek is blafted.

Sap. Blafted I Where's the Lamia That tears my entrails ? I'm bewitch'd ; feize on her.

Dor. I'm here, do what you pleafe.

The. Spume her too 'th barre.

Dor. Come boy being there, more near to heaven we are.

66 The Virgin Martir.

Sap. Kick harder, go out witch. Exeunt.

Ant. O bloody hangman ! thine own gods give

thee breath,

Each of thy tortors is my feverall death. Exit.

Enter Harpax, Hircius and Spungius.

Har. Do you like my fervice now, fay am not I A matter worth attendance.

Spun. Attendance ! I had rather lick clean the foles of your dirtie boots, than wear the richeft fute of any infecled Lord, whofe rotten life hangs between the 2. Poles.

Hir. A Lords fute ! I would not give up the cloak of your fervice, to meet the fplay-foot eflate of any left-eyed knight above the Antipodes, becaufe they are unlucky to meet.

Har. This day He try your loves to me; 'tis

onely But well to ufe the agility of your arms.

Spun. Or legs, I am lufly at them.

Hir. Or any other member that has no legs.

Spun. Thoul't run into fome hole.

Hir. If I meet one thats more than my match, and that I cannot ftand in their hands, I mutt and will creep on my knees.

Har. Hear me, my little teem of villains, hear me, I cannot teach you fencing with thefe cudgels, Yet you mutt ufe them ; lay them on but foundly, That's all.

Ifir. Nay, if we come to mailing once, puh.

Spun. But what Wall-nut-tree is it we mutt beat ?

Har. Your mittreffe.

Hir. How ! my miftrefs ! I begin to have a Chriftians heart, made of fweet butter; I melt, I cannot ftrike a woman.

Spun. Nor I, unleffe me fcratch ; bum my miftreffe !

Har. Y'are Coxcombs, filly animals.

The Virgin Martir. 67

Hir. Whats that ?

Har. Drones, Affes, blinded Moles, that dare not

thruft

Your arms out to catch fortune ; fay you fall off. It muft be done : you are converted Rafcals, And that once fpread abroad, why every flave Will kick you, call you motley Chriftians, And half fac'd Chriftians.

Spun. The guts of my o©nfcience begin to be of whit-leather.

Hir. I doubt me I (hall have no fweet butter in me.

Har. Deny this, and each Pagan whom you

meet, Shall forked fingers thruft into your eyes.

Hir. If we be Cuckolds.

Har. Do this, and every god the Gentiles bow to, Shall add a fathom to your line of years.

Spun. A hundred fathom, I defire no more.

Hir. I defire but one inch longer.

Har. The Senators will, as you paffe along, Clap you upon your moulders with this hand, And with this hand give you gold : when you are

dead, Happy that man mall be can get a nail,

The paring , nay the dirt under the nail

Of any of you both, to fay, this dirt Belonged to Spungius or Hirtius.

Spun. They mall not want dirt under my nails, I will keep them long of purpofe, for now my fingers itch to be at her.

Hir. The firft thing I do, He take her ore the lips.

Mfiun. And I the hips, we may ftrike any where.

Har. Yes, any where.

Hir. Then I know where He hit her.

Har. Profper and be mine own j Hand by I muft

not

To fee this done, great bufmefle calls me hence ; He's made can make her curfe his violence. Exit.

F 2

68 The Virgin Mar fir.

Spu. Fear it not fir, her ribs (hall be bailed. Hir. He come upon her with rounce, robble- hobble, and thwick thwack thirlery bouncing.

Enter Dorothea led Prifoner, a guard attending, a hangman with cords in fome ugly {hope, fets up a Pillar in the middle of the ftage, Sapritius and Theophilus fit, Angelo by her.

Sap. According to our Roman cuftomes, bind That Chriftian to a Pillar.

The. Infernal furies,

Could they into my hand thruft all their whips To tear thy flefh, thy foul, 'tis not a torture Fit to the vengeance I mould heap on thee, For wrongs done me : me ! for flagitious facts By thee done to our gods : yet (fo it ftand To great Ccef area's Governours high pleafure) Bow but thy knee to lupiter, and offer Any flight facrifice, or do but fwear By C&fars fortune, and be free.

Sap. Thou malt.

Dor. Not for all Ccefars fortune, were it chained To more worlds, then are kingdomes in the world, And all thofe worlds drawn after him : I defie Your hangmen ; you now fhew me whither to flie.

Sap. Are her tormentors ready 1

Ang. Shrink not dear Miftreffe.

Both. My Lord, we are ready for the bufmeffe.

Dor. You two ! whom I like foflred children fed, And lengthened out your ftarved life with bread : You be my hangman ! whom, when up the ladder Death hal'd you to be flrangled, I fetch'd down, Cloth'd you, and warm'd you, you two my tor mentors 1

Both. Yes, we.

Dor. Divine powers pardon you.

Sap. Strike.

Jlrike at her \ Angelo kneeling holds her J aft.

The Virgin Martir. 69

The. Beat out her brains.

Dor. Receive me, you bright Angels.

Sap. Fatter flaves.

Spun. Fatter : I am out of breath I am fure ; if I were to beat a buck, I can ftrike no harder.

Hir. O mine armes, I cannot lift 'em to my head.

Dor. Joy above joys ! are my tormentors weary In torturing me, and in my fufferings I fainting in no limb ! tyrants ftrike home And feaft your fury full.

The. Thefe dogs are curs, Come from his feat.

Which fnarl, yet bite not : fee my Lord, her face Hath more bewitching beauty then before : Proud whore, it fmiles ; cannot an eye ftart out With thefe I

Hir. No fir, nor the bridge of her nofe fall, 'tis full of iron work.

Sap. Lets view the cudgels, are they not counter feit.

Ang. There fix thine eye ftill ; thy glorious crown

mutt come

Not from foft pleafure, but by Martyrdome. There fix thine eye ftill, when we next do meet, Not thorns, but rofes mail bear up thy feet : There fix thine eye ftill. Exit.

Enter ~H.axpa.xf neaping.

Dor. Ever, ever, ever.

The. We are mock'd, thefe bats have power to fell down gyants, yet her skin is not fcarr'd.

Sap. What rogues are thefe.

The. Cannot thefe force a fhreeke ? Beats them.

Spun. O ! a woman has one of my ribs, and now five more are broken.

The. Cannot this make her roare.

Beats Pother, he roares*

Sap. Who hir'd thefe flaves ? What are they %

70 The Virgin Martir.

Spun. We ferve that noble Gentleman there, he entic'd us to this dry beating : oh for one half pot.

Har. My fervants ! two bafe rogues, and fome-

tirnes fervants To her, and for that caufe forbear to hurt her.

Sap. Unbind her, hang up thefe.

The. Hang the two hounds on the next tree.

Hir. Hang us ! Matter Harpax, what a diuel mall we be thus us'd ?

Har. What bandogs but you two, wud worry a

woman ?

Your Miflreffe ! I but clapt you, you flew on : Say I mould get your lives, each rafcal begger Would, when he met you, cry out hell hounds,

traitors

Spit at you, fling dirt at you, and no woman Ever endure your fight : 'tis your beft courfe Now (had you fecret kniues) to ftab your felves, But fmce you have not, go and be hang'd.

Hir. I thank you.

Har. 'Tis your beft courfe.

The. Why flay they trifling here1? To gallows drag them by the heels ; away.

Sp. By the heels ! No fir, we have legs to do us that fervice.

Hir. I, I, if no woman can endure my fight, away with me.

Har. Difpatch them. Exeunt.

Spu. The Divel difpatch thee,

Sap. Death this day rides in triumph ; Theophilus, See this witch made away too.

The. My foul thirfts for it ; Come I my felf thy hangmans part could play.

Dor. O haften me to rny Coronation day. Exit.

Enter Antoninus, Macrinus, fervants.

Ant. Is this the place, where virtue is to fufTer ? And heavenly beauty leaving this bafe earth,

The Virgin Martir. 7 1

To make a glad return from whence it came 1

Is it Macrinus 1 A f caff old thru/I forth.

Mac. By this preparation You well may reft affur'd, that Dorothea This hour is to die here.

Ant. Then with her dies The abftract of all fweetneffe that's in woman ; Set me down friend, that ere the iron hand Of death clofe up mine eyes, they may at once Take my laft leave both of this light, and her : For (he being gone, the glorious fun himfelf To me's Cymerian darkneffe.

Mac. Strange affection !

Cupid once more hath chang'd his (hafts with death, And kills inftead Of giving life.

Ant. Nay weep not,

Though tears of friendmip be a foveraign balm, On me they are caft awayj: it is decreed That I muft die with her, our clue of life Was fpun together.

Mac. Yet fir, 'tis my wonder, That you, who hearing onely what (he fuffers, Pertake of all her tortures, yet will be, To adde to calamitie, an eye-witneffe Of her laft tragick fcene, which muft pierce deeper, And make the wound more defperate.

Ant. O Macriuus,

'Twould linger but my torments elfe, not kill me, Which is the end I aim at, being to die too : What inftrument more glorious can I wifh for, Then what is made (harp by my conftant love, And true affection ; it may be, the duty And loyal fervice, with which I purfu'd her, And feald it with my death, will be remembred Among her blefled actions, and what honour Can I defire beyond it ?

72 The Virgin Martir.

Enter a guard bringing in Dorothea, a headfman before her, followed by Theophilus, Sapritius, Harpax.

See fhe comes,

How fweet her innocence appears, more like

To heaven itfelf, then any facrifice

That can be offer'd to it. By my hopes

Of joyes hereafter, the fight makes me doubtfull

In my beleef ; nor can I think our gods

Are good, or to be ferv'd, that take delight

In offerings of this kind, that to maintain

Their power, deface the mafler-peece of nature,

Which they themfelves come fhort of : (he afcends,

And every ftep, raifes her neerer heaven.

What god fo ere thou art, that muft enjoy her,

Receive in her a boundleffe happineffe.

Sap. You are to blame To let him come abroad.

Mac. It was his will, And we were left to ferve him, not command him.

Ant. Good fir be not offended, nor deny My lafl of pleafures, in this happy object That I (hall ere be blefl with.

The. Now proud contemner Of us and of our gods, tremble to think, It is not in the power thou ferv'ft to fave thee. Not all the riches of the fea, increas'd By violent mipwracks, nor the unfearched mines, Mammons unknown exchequer, mall redeem thee : And therefore having firfl with horror weigh'd What 'tis to die, and to die young, to part with All pleafures and delights : laflly, to go Where all Antipathies to comfort dwell ; Furies behind, about thee, and before thee, And to add to affliction, the remembrance Of the Elizian joies thou mightft have tafled, Hadfl thou not turn'd Apoflata to thofe gods That fo reward their fervants, let defpair

The Virgin Martir. 73

Prevent the hangmans fword, and on this fcaffold Make thy firft entrance into hell.

Ant. She fmiles,

Vnmov'd by Mors, as if me were affur'd Death looking on her conftancy, would forget The ufe of his ineuitable hand.

The, Derided too ? Difpatch I fay.

Dor. Thou fool

That glorieft in having power to rauilh A triflle from me I am weary of : What is this life to me, not worth a thought ; Or if to be efteem'd, 'tis that I loofe it To win a better : even thy malice ferves To me but as a ladder to mount up To fuch a height of happineffe where I mall Look down with fcorn on thee and on the world ; Where circl'd with true pleafures, plac'd aboue The reach of death or time, 'twill be my glory To think at what an eafie price I bought it. There's a perpetuall fpring, perpetuall youth, No joint benumming cold, nor fcorching heat, Famine nor age, have any being there. Forget for fliame your Tempe ; burie in Oblivion, your fain'd Hefperian Orchards : The Golden fruit kept by the watchful Dragon, Which did require Hercules to get it Compar'd with what grows in all plenty there, Deferves not to be nam'd. The power I ferve Laughs at your happy Arabic, or the Elizian Ihades, for he hath made his bowers Better indeed then you can fancy yours.

Ant. O take me thither with you.

Dor. Trace my fteps And be affur'd you (hall.

Sap, With mine own hands He rather Hop that little breath is left thee, And rob thy killing feaver.

Ike. By no means, Let him go with her ; do feduc'd young man,

74 The Virgin Martir.

And wait upon thy Saint in death, do, do.

And when you come to that imagin'd place,

That place of all delights, pray you obferue me,

And meet thofe curfed things I once called daughters,

Whom I have fent as harbingers before you,

If there be any truth in your religion,

In thankfullneffe to me, that (with care) haften

Your journey thither, pray fend me fome

Small pittance of that curious fruit you boaft of,

Ant. Grant that I may go with her, and I will.

Sap. Wilt thou in thy laft minute, dam thy felH

The. The gates to hell are open.

Do. Know thou tyrant Thou agent for the divel thy great matter, Though thou art moil unworthy to tafte of it, I can and will.

Enter Angelo in the Angels habit.

Har. O ! mountains fall upon me, Or hide me in the bottom of the deep, Where light may never find me.

The. What's the matter ?

Sap. This is prodigious, and confirms her witch craft.

The. Harpax, my Harpax, fpeak.

Har. I dare not flay : Should I but hear her once more, I were loft. Some whirlwind match me from this curfed place, To which compared, and with what now I fuffer, Hels torments are fweet flumbers. Exit Harpax.

Sap. Follow him.

The. He is diflracted, and I mufl not lofe him. Thy charms upon my fervant, curfed witch, Gives thee a fhort reprieve : let her not die Till my return. Exeunt Sap. and Theoph.

Ant. She minds him not : what object Is her eye fix'd on ?

Mac. I fee nothing.

The Virgin Martir. 75

Ant. Mark her.

Dor. Thou glorious minifler of the power I ferve, (For thou art more then mortal) is't for me, Poor firmer, thou art pleas'd awhile to leave Thy heavenly habitation ? and vouchfafefl (Though glorified) to take my fervants hahit ; For put off thy divinity, fo look'd My lovely Angela.

Ang. Know 1 am the fame, And ftill the fervant to your pietie. Your zealous prayers, and pious deeds firft won me (But 'twas by his command to whom you fent them) To guide your fteps. I tri'd your charity, When in a beggars fhape you took me up, And cloth'd my naked limbs, and after fed (As you beleev'd) my famifh'd mouth. Learn all By your example, to look on the poor With gentle eyes ; for in fuch habits often Angels defire an alms. I never left you, Nor will I now ; for I am fent to carry Your pure and innocent foul to joyes etemall, Your martyrdome once fuffer'd ', and before it, Ask any thing from me, and reft affur'd, You (hall obtain it.

Dor. I am largely paid For all my torments : fince I find fuch grace, Grant that the love of this young man to me, In which he languifheth to death, may be Chang' d to the love of heaven.

Ang. I will perform it. And in that inftant when the fword fets free Your happy foul, his mall have libertie. Is there ought elfe ?

Dor. For proof that I forgive My persecutor, who in fcorn defir'd To tafte of that moft facred fruit I go to ; After my death, as fent from me, be pleas'd To give him of it.

Ang. Willingly, dear miftrefs.

76 The Virgin Martir.

Mac. I am amaz'd.

Ant. I feel a holy fire. That yeelds a comfortable heat within me : I am quite alter'd from the thing I was ; See I can fland, and go alone, thus kneel To heavenly Dorothea, touch her hand With a religious kiffe.

Enter Sapritius and Theophilus.

Sap. He is well now, But will not be drawn back.

The. It matters not,

We can difcharge this work without his help. But fee your fon.

Sap. Villain.

Ant. Sir I befeech you, Being fo near our ends, divorce us not.

The. He quickly make a feparation of 'em : Haft thou ought elfe to fay ?

Dor. Nothing, but blame Thy tardineffe in fending me to reft ; My peace is made with heaven, to which my foul Begins to take her flight : ftrike, O ftrike quickly ; And though you are unmov'd to fee my death Hereafter, when my ftory mail be read, As they were prefent now, the hearers mall Say this of Dorothea^ with wet eyes, She liv'd a Virgin, and a Virgin dies.

Her headftruck off.

Ant. O take my foul along to wait on thine.

Mac. Your fon finks too. Antoninus finks.

Sap. Already dead !

The. Die all

That are, or favour this accurfed fec"l : I triumph in their ends ; and will raife up A hill of their dead carkafles, to orelook The Pyrenian hils, but He root out Thefe fuperftitious fools, and leave the world

The Virgin Martir. 77

No name of Chriflian.

Loud mufick : exit Angelo, having fir Jt laid his hand upon their mouths.

Sap. Ha, h eavenly mufick.

Mac. JTis in the air.

The. Illufions of the Divel, Wrought by fome witch of her Religion That fain would make her death a miracle : It frights not me. Becaufe he is your fon, Let him have buriall, but let her body Be caft forth with contempt in fome high-way, And be to Vultures, a to dogs and prey. Exeunt.

The end of the fourth Aft.

Adus V. Scena I.

Enter Theophilus in hisjludy. Books about him.

The. T S't holy-day (O Cafar) that thy fervant

J^ (Thy Provoft to fee execution done On thefe bafe Chriftians in Cafarea) Should now want work 1 fleep thefe Idolaters, That none are (lining ? As a curious Painter, Rifes. When he has made fome admirable piece, Stands off, and with a fearching eye examines Each colour, how 'tis fweetned, and then hugs Himfelf for his rare workmanfhip. — So here fits.

Will I my Drolleries, and bloudy Lantskips (Long paft wrapt up) unfold, to make me merry With fhadows, now I want the fubftances. Book.

My Mufter-book of Hell-hounds ; were the Chriftians, (Whofe names ftand here) alive and arm'd, not Rome Could move upon her hindges. What I have done Or mail hereafter, is not out of hate To poor tormented wretches, no I am carried

78 The Virgin Martir.

With violence of zeal, and dreams of fervice I owe our Roman gods. Great Britain, what A thoufand wives with brats fucking their brefls, Had hot Irons pinch 'em off, and thrown to fwine ; And then their flelhy back-parts hewed with hatchets, Were minc'd and bak'd in pies to feed ftarv'd

Chriflians. Ha, ha.

Agen, agen, — Eaft-Anglas •, — oh, Eafl -Angles Bandogs (kept three dayes hungry) worried 1000. Britifh Rafcals, flyed up, fat Of purpofe flript naked, and difarm'd. I could outftare a year of funs and moons, To fit at thefe fweet bul-baitings, fo I could Thereby but one Chriflian win to fall In adoration to my lupiter. Twelve hundred Eyes boar'd with Augurs out : oh ! eleven thoufand Torn by wild beafls j two hundred ram'd i'th earth To th' armpits, and full platters round about 'em, But far enough for reaching ; eat dogs, ha, ha, ha. Rife, Turn, all thefe tortures are but philliping, Confort. Flea-bitings ; I, before the deflinies Enter Angela with My bottome did wind up, would flefh my felf a basket Once more upon fome one remarkable fid with fruit Above all thefe ; this Chriflian flut was well, and

A pretty one : but let fuch horror follow flowers. The next I feed with torments, that when Rome Shall heare it, her foundation at the found May feel an earth-quake. How now 1 Mufick.

Ang. Are you amaz'd Sir — fo great a Roman

fpirit And does it tremble !

The. How cam'fl thou in ? to whom thy bufi- nefle?

Ang. To you :

I had a miflreffe late fent hence by you Upon a bloudy errand, you entreated That when me came into that bleffed Garden Whither me knew me went, and where (now happy)

The Virgin Martir. 79

She feeds upon all joy, (he would fend to you Some of that garden fruit and flowers, which here To have her promife fav'd, are brought by me.

The. Cannot I fee this Garden ?

Ang. Yes if the Matter Will give you entrance. Angela vanijheth.

The. "Tis a tempting fruit, And the moft bright cheek'd child I ever viewd ; Sweet fmelling goodly fruit ; what flowers are thefe ? In Dioclefians Gardens, the moft beautious, Compar'd with thefe, are weeds ; is it not February ? The fecond day me died 1 Froft, Ice, and Snow Hang on the beard of Winter ; where's the fun That guilds this fummer ; pretty fweet boy, fay, in

what Country Shall a man find this garden — , my delicate boy, gone !

Vanifhed ! Within there, Julianus and Geta.—

Enter twofervants.

Both. My Lord.

The. Are my gates fhut 1

1. And guarded.

The. Saw you not — a boy ?

2. Where 1

The. Here he entred, a young Lad, 1000 bleflings danc'd upon his eyes, a fmooth fac'd glorious Thing, that brought this basket.

i. No fir. Exeunt.

The. Away, but be in reach, if my voice calls you. No ! vanim'd, and not feen ! be thou a fpirit Sent from that witch to mock me, I am fure This is effentiall, and how ere it grows, Will tafte it. Eats.

Har. Ha, ha, ha, ha. .-^. Harpax within.

The. So good, ile have fome more fure.

Har. Ha, ha, ha, ha, great lickorifh fool.

8o The Virgin Martir.

The. What art thou ?

Har. A Fifherman.

The. What doeft thou catch ?

Har. Souls, fouls, a fifh call'd fouls.

Enter afervant.

The. Gtta.

i. My Lord.

Har. Ha, ha, ha, ha. within.

The. What infolent (lave is this dares laugh

at me ? Or what ift the dog grins at fo ?

i. I neither know (my Lord) at what, nor whom ; for there is none without, but my fellow lulianus, and he is making a Garland for lupiter.

The. lupiter \ all within me is not well, And yet not fick.

Har. Ha, ha, ha, ha. lowder.

The. What's thy name flave ?

Har, Go look. At one end.

i. Tis Harpax voice.

The. Harpax ? go, drag the caitiff to my foot, That I may flamp upon him.

Har. Fool, thou Heft. At tother end.

i. Hee's yonder now, my Lord.

The. Watch thou that end, Whilft I make good this.

Har. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha. At the middle.

Theoph. Hee's at Barli-break, and the laft couple are now in hell : exitferuant.

Search for him. All this ground me thinks is bloudy, And pav'd with thoufands of thofe Chriftians eyes Whom I have tortur'd, and they ftare upon me. What was this apparition ? fure it had A mape Angelical ; mine eyes (though dazled And danted at firfl fight) tell me, it wore A pair of glorious wings j yes they were wings, And hence he flew ; 'tis vanifhed, lupiter For all my facrifices done to him

The Virgin Martir. 81

Never once gave me fmile ; how can ftone fmile,

Mufick.

Or woodden image laugh ? ha ! I remember Such mufick gave a welcome to my ear, When the fair youth came to me : 'tis in the air Or from fome better place ; a power divine, Through my dark ignorance on my foul does mine, And makes me fee a confcience all flain'd ore, Nay drown'd, and damn'd for ever in Chriftian gore.

Har. Ha, ha, ha. Within.

The. Agen 1 what dainty rellim on my tongue This fruit hath left ! fome Angel hath me fed ; If fo toothfull, I will be banqueted. Eats another.

Enter Harpax in a fearful fhape, fire flajhing out of thejludy.

Har. Hold.

The. Not for Ccefar.

Har. But for me thou malt.

The. Thou art no twin to him that laft was here. You powers, whom my foul bids me reverence, Guard me : what art thou ?

Har. I'm thy mailer.

The. Mine.

Har. And thou my everlafting flave : that Harpax, Who hand in hand hath led thee to thy hell, Ami.

The. Avant.

Har. I will not ; caft thou down That basket with the things in 't, and fetch up What thou haft fwallowed, and then take a drink Which I mail give thee, and I'm gon.

The. My fruit ! Does this offend thee ? fee.

Har. Spit it to the earth, And tread upon it, or I'le peece-meal tear thee.

The. Art thou with this affrighted? fee, here's more. flowers.

G

82 Tke Virgin Martir.

Har. Fling them away, He take thee elfe and

hang thee

In a contorted chain of Ificles I'th frigid Zone : down with them.

The. At the bottome. One thing I found not yet, fee a croffe of flowers.

Har. Oh, I'me tortur'd.

The. Can this do't ? hence, thou Fiend infernal, hence. ^ _N

Har. Clafp lupiters Image, and away with that.

The. At thee ile fling that lupiter ; for me thinks I ferve a better Matter : he now checks me For mnrthering my two daughters, put on by thee ; By thy damn'd Rhetorick did I hunt the life Of Dorothea, the holy Virgin Martyr, She is not angry with the axe nor me, But fends thefe prefents to me ; and ile travel Ore worlds to find her, and from her white hand To beg forgivenefs.

Har. No, ile bind thee here.

The. I ferve a flrength above thine : this fmall

weapon Me thinks is armour hard enough.

Har. Keep from me. Jinks a little.

The. Art polling to thy center ? down, hel-hound,

down.

Me haft thou loft ; that arm which hurls thee hence, ' Save me, and fet me up the ftrong defence In the fair Chriflians quarrel.

Enter Angelo.

Ang. Fix thy foot there ; Nor be thou fhaken with a Ccefars voice, Though thoufand deaths were in it ; and I then Will bring thee to a River, that mail warn Thy bloudy hands clean, and more white then fnow ; And to that Garden where thefe bleft things grow, And to that martyr'd Virgin, who hath fent That heavenly token to thee ; fpread this brave wing

The Virgin Martir. 83

And ferve then Ccefar a far greater King.

The. It is, it is fome Angel ; vanifh'd again ! Oh come back, ravifhing boy, bright meflenger ; Thou haft (by thefe mine eyes fixt on thy beauty) Illumined all my foul : Now look I back On my black tyrannies, which as they did Out-dare the bloudieft, thou bleft fpirit that leads

me,

Teach me what I muft do, and to do well, That my laft ac~l the beft may paralell. Exit.

Enter Dioclefian, Maximinus, Epire, Pontus, Macedon, meeting Artemia j attendants.

Art. Glory and Conqueft flill attend upon Triumphant C<zfar.

Dioc. Let thy wifh (fair daughter) Be equally divided ; and hereafter Learn thou to know and reverence Maximinvs, Whofe power, with mine united, makes one Ccefar.

Max. But that I fear 'twould be held flattery, The bonds confider'd in which we Hand tied, As love, and Empire, I mould fay, till now I nere had feen a Lady I thought worthy To be my Miflreffe.

Art. Sir, you (hew your felf Both Courtier and Souldier ; but take heed, Take heed my Lord, though my dull pointed beauty, Stain'd by a harm refufall in my fervant, Cannot dart forth fuch beams as may inflame you, You may encounter fuch a powerfull one, That with a pleafmg heat will thaw your heart, Though bound in ribs of Ice ; love ftill is love, His Bow and Arrows are the fame ; great Julius, That to his fucceffors let the name of Ccefar, Whom war could never tame, that with dry eyes Beheld the large Plains of Pharfalia, cover'd With the dead Carkaffes of Senators And Citizens of Rome, when the world knew

G 2

84 The Virgin Martir.

No other Lord but him, ftruck deep in years too,

(And men gray hair'd forget the lufts of youth)

After all this, meeting fair Cleopatra^

A fuppliant to the Magick of her eye,

Even in his pride of conquefl, took him captive ;

Nor are you more fecure.

Max. Were you deform'd, (But by the gods you are moft excellent) Your gravity and difcretion would orecome me, And I mould be more proud in being a prifoner To your fair virtues, then of all the honours, Wealth, title, Empire, that my fword hath purchas'd.

Dice. This meets my wilhes : welcome it, Ar-

temia^

With out-ftretch'd arms, and ftudy to forget That Antoninus ever was ; thy fate Referv'd thee for this better choice, embrace it.

Ep. This happy match brings new nerves to give

llrength To our continued league.

Maced. Hymen himfelf

Will bleffe this marriage, which we will folemnize In the prefence of thefe Kings.

Pon. Who reft moft happy, To be eye-witneffes of a match that brings Peace to the Empire.

Dioc. We much thank your loves : But where's Sapritius our Governour, And our moft zealous Provoft, good Theophilus ? If ever Prince were bleft in a true fervant, Or could the gods be debtors to a man, Both they, and we, ftand far ingag'd to cherifli His piety and fervice.

Art. Sir, the Governour Brooks fadly his fons loffe, although he turn'd Apoftata in death ; but bold Theophilus, Who, for the fame caufe, in my prefence feal'd His holy anger on his daughters hearts. Having with tortures fir ft tried to convert her,

The Virgin Martir. 85

Drag'd the bewitching Chriftian to the fcaffold, And faw her loofe her head.

Dio. He is all worthy, And from his own mouth I would gladly hear The manner how me fufler'd.

Art. 'Twill be deliver'd

With fuch contempt and fcorn (I know his nature) That rather 'twill beget your highneffe laughter, Then the lead pitie.

Enter Theophilus, Sapritius, Macrinus.

Dioc* To that end I would hear it.

Art. He comes, with him the governour.

Dio. O Sapritius,

I am to chide you for your tenderneffe ; But yet remembring that you are a father, I will forget it : good Theophilus, I will fpeak with you anone : nearer your ear.

to Sapritius.

The. By Antoninus foul, I do conjure you, And though not for religion, for his friendmip, Without demanding what's the caufe that moves me, Receive my fignet, by the power of this, Go to my prifons, and releafe all Chriflians That are in fetters there by my command.

Mac. But what (hall follow ?

The. Hade then to the port, You there mail find two tall (hips ready rigg'd, In which embark the poor didreffed fouls, And bear them from the reach of tyranny ; Enquire not whither you are bound, the Diety That they adore will give you profperous winds, , And make your voyage fuch, and largely pay for Your hazard, and your travel : leave me here ; There is a fcene that I mud act alone. Hade good Macrinus, and the great God guide you.

Mac. He undertak't, there's fomething prompts me to it,

86 The Virgin Martir.

'Tis to fave innocent blood, a Saint-like a<5l ;

And to be mercifull, has never been

By mortal men themfelves efteemed a fin. Exit Mac.

Dioc. You know your charge.

Sap. And will with care obferve it.

Dioc. For I profeffe, he is not Cafars friend, That Iheds a tear for any torture that A Chriftian fuffers : welcome, my bed fervant, My carefull zealous Provofl, thou haft toild To fatisfie my will, though in extreams, I love thee for't ; thou art firm rock, no changeling : Prithee deliver, and for my fake do it, Without exceffe of bitterneffe, or fcoffes, Before my brother and thefe Kings, how took The Chriftian her death.

The. And fuch a prefence Though every private head in this large room Were circl'd round with an imperiall crown, Her ftory will deferve, it is fo full Of excellency and wonder.

Dioc. Ha ! how's this ?

The. O mark it therefore, and with that attention, As you would hear an Embaflie from heaven By a wing'd Legate ; for the truth delivered, Both how and what this bleffed virgin fuffered : And Dorothea but hereafter nam'd, You will rife up with reverence ; and no more, As things unworthy of your thoughts, remember What the canoniz'd Spartan Ladies were, Which lying Greece fo boafts of ; your own Matrons, Your Roman Dames, whofe figures you yet keep As holy relicks, in her hiftory Will find a fecond Urn : Gracchus, Cornelia, Paulina, that in death defir'd to follow Her husband Seneca^ nor Brutus Portia, That fwallow'd burning coles to overtake him, Though all their feveral worths were given to one, With this is to be mention'd.

Max. Is he mad ?

The Virgin Martir. 87

Dioc. Why they did die Theophilus, and boldly. This did no more.

The. They out of defperation, Or for vain glory of an after name, Parted with life : this had not mutinous fons, As the ram Gracchi were ; nor was this Saint A doting mother, as Cornelia was : This loft no husband, in whofe overthrow Her wealth and honour funk, no fear of want Did make her being tedious ; but aiming At an immortall crown, and in his caufe Who onely can beftow it, who fent down Legions of miniftring Angels to bear up Her fpotlefs foul to heaven ; who entertain'd it With choice celeftial mufick, equall to The motion of the fpheres, me uncompel'd Chang'd this life for a better. My Lord Sapritius You were prefent at her death, did you ere heare Such ravifhing founds ?

Sap. Yet you faid then it was witchcraft, And divellim illufions.

The. I then heard it

With fmfull ears, and belch'd out blafphemous words Againfl his Dietie, which then I knew not, Nor did believe in him,

Dio. Why doft thou now ? Or dar'fl thou in our hearing ?

The. Were my voice As loud as is his thunder, to be heard Through all the world, all Potentates on earth Ready to burft with rage mould they but hear it, Though hell to aid their malice lent her furies, Yet I would fpeak, and fpeak again, and boldly; I am a Chriftian, and the powers you worfhip But dreams of fools and madmen.

Max. Lay hands on him.

Dioc. Thou twice a child (for doting age fo makes thee)

88 The Virgin Martir.

Thou could'ft not elfe, thy pilgrimage of life Being almofl paffed through in the lafl moment, Deftroy what ere thou hail done good or great ; Thy youth did promife much, and grown a man, Thou madeft it good, and with encreafe of years Thy actions flill better'd : as the Sun Thou didft rife glorioufly, keptfl a conflant courfe In all thy journey, and now in the evening, When thou mouldft pafs with honour to thy reft, Wilt thou fall like a Meteor ?

Sap. Yet confefs

That thou art mad, and that thy tongue and heart Had no agreement.

Max. Do, no way is left elfe, To fave thy life, Theophilus.

Dio. But refufe it, Deftruc"lion as horrid and as fuddain Shall fall upon thee, as if hell flood open, And thou wert finking thither.

The. Hear me yet, Hear for my fervice paft.

Art. What will he fay 1 The. As ever I deferv'd your favour, hear

me,

And grant one boon, 'tis not for life I fue for ; Nor is it fit, that I, that nere knew pitie To any Chriflian, being one my felf, Should look for any : no, I rather beg The utmoil of your cruelty ; I Hand Accomptable for thoufand Chriftians deaths ; And were it poffible that I could die A day for every one, then live again To be again tormented, 'twere to me An eafie pennance, and I mould paffe through A gentle cleanfmg fire ; but that denied me, It being beyond the ftrength of feeble nature, My fute is, you would have no pitie on me : In mine own houfe there are a thoufand engines

The Virgin Martir. 89

Of fludied crueltie, which I did prepare For miferable Chriftians, let me feel, As the Sicilian did his Brazen Bull, The horridft you can find, and I will fay In death that you are mercifull.

Dice. Defpair not, In this thou fhalt prevail ; go fetch 'em hither :

Some go for the rack.

Death mall put on a thoufand mapes at once, And fo appear before thee, racks, and whips, Thy flefh with burning pinfors torn, (hall feed The fire that heats them, and what's wanting to The torture of thy body, Tie fupply In punifhing thy mind : fetch all the Chriftians That are in hold and here, before his face, Cut 'em in pieces.

The. 'Tis not in thy power, It was the firft good deed I ever did ; They are remov'd out of thy reach ; how ere I was determin'd for my fins to die, I firfl took order for their liberty, And ftill I dare thy worft.

Dioc. Bind him I fay, Make every artery and finew crack, The (lave that makes him give the loudeft fhrike, Shall have ten thoufand Drachms : wretch I'le force

thee To curfe the power thou worfhip'fl.

The. Never, never, No breath of mine mall ever be fpent on him,

They torment him.

But what mail fpeak his Majefty or mercy : I am honour'd in my fufferings ; weak tormentors, More tortures, more : alas you are unskilfull, For heavens fake more, my bread is yet untorn : Here purchafe the reward that was propounded. The Irons cool, here are arms yet, and thighs, Spare no part of me.

9O The Virgin Martir.

Max. He endures beyond The fufferance of a man.

Sap. No figh nor groan To witneffe he has feeling.

Dioc. Harder villains.

Enter Harpax.

Har. Unlefle that he blafpheme, he's loft for

ever:

If torments ever could bring forth defpair, Let thefe compell him to it : oh me My ancient enemies again. falls down.

Enter Dorothea in a white Robe, Crowns upon her Robe, a Crown upon her head, lead in by the Angel, Antoninus, Califte, and Q\m&&a., following all in white, but leffe glorious t the Angel with a Crown for him.

The. Moft glorious Vifion, Did ere fo hard a bed yeeld man a dream So heavenly as this 1 I am confirm'd, Confirm'd you bleffed fpirits, and make haft To take that Crown of immortality You offer to me ; death, till this bleft minute I never thought thee flow pac'd, nor could I Haflen thee now, for any pain 1 fuffer, But that thou keepft me from a glorious wreath, Which, through this flormy way, I would creep to, And humbly kneeling with humility wear it. Oh now I feel thee, bleffed fpirits I come, And witneffe for me all thefe wounds and fears, I die a fouldier in the Chriflian wars. dies.

Sap. I have feen' thoufands tortur'd, but ne're

yet A conftancy like this.

Har. I am twice damn'd.

The Virgin Martir. 91

Ang. Hafte to thy place appointed, curfed fiend, In fpite of hell this fouldier's not thy prey, 'Tis I have won, thou that haft loft the day.

Exit Angela, the divell finks with lightning. Dio. I think the center of the earth be crackt, Yet I ftand ftill unmov'd, and wil go on ; The perfecution that is here begun, Through all the world with violence fhall run.

Flourifh. Exeunt.

FINIS.

Brittannia's Honor:

Brightly Shining in feuerall Magnificent

Shewes or Pageants, to Celebrate the Solemnity of

the Right Honorable RICHARD DEANE,

At his Inauguration into the Majoralty of the Ho nourable Citty of London, on Wednefday, October the 2pth. 1628.

At the particular Coft, and Charges of the Right Worfliip- full, Worthy, and Ancient Society of Skinners*

Mart. lib. 7, Ep, 5. Rurfus lo, Magnos clamat noita-Trvia Triumphos.

Inuented by THO. DEKKER.

Imprinted at London by Nicholas Okes and lohn Norton. 1628.

To the Right Hono-

rable Richard Deane Lord Maior of the

moft Renowned Citty of London : And to the

two worthy Sheriffes, Mr. Rowland Backhoufe,

and Mr. William Aclon.

Honorable Praetor : Noble Confuls.

[Ou are (this Yeare) the Subie6l of my Verfe, In You lye hid the Fires which heate my

Braines,

====_ To you, my Songs Triumphant I rehearfe : From you, a thankes brings in a golden Gaines^ Since You are then the Glory of my Mufe, But You, whom canjheefor her Patrons chufe ?

Whilft I reft,

Deuoted

To your Lordftiip, And Worjhips In all feruice,

Tho. Dekker.

Brittannia's Honor :

Brightly flrining in feuerall Magni ficent Shewes or Pageants, to Celebrate the Solemnity of the Right Honorable RI CHARD DEANE, at his Inauguration into the Majoralty of the Honorable Citty of London, on Wenfday the 29. of October. 1628.

[Hat Honor can bee greater to a Kingdome, than to haue a Citty for beauty, able to match with the Fairejl in the World 1 A

Citty > renowned Abroad, admired at Home.

idon, and her Royall Daughter ( Weflminfter) are the Reprefentatiue body of the general State ; for, here our Kings and Queenes keepe their Courts ; heere are our Princes, the Peeres, Nobility, Gentry, Lords Spiri- tuall and Temporally with the Numerous Commu- nalty.

London in Forraine Countries is called the Queent of Cities, and the Queene-mother ouer her owne. She is her Kings Chamber-royall, his Golden-Key : His Slore-houfe : The Magazine of Merchandize ; the Mif- tris of Sciences ; a Nurfe to all the Shieres in England. So famous fhee is for her Buildings, that Troy has leap'd out of her own Cinders, to build Her Wals. So remarkable for Priority and Power, that hers is the Mafler-wheele of the whole Kingdome : As that moues, fo the maim Engine works.

4 H

98 Brittannids Honor.

London is Admiral! ouer the Nauy royall of Cities : And as me fayles, the whole Fleete of them keepe their courfe.

Fully to write downe all the Titles, Stiles, and Honors of this our Metropolis, would weary a 1000. pennes : Apollo fhall haue a New Garland of Bayes, to vndertake it.

As thus in State, fhee her felfe is Glorious ; fo haue all our Kings held it fit to make her chiefe Ruler emi nent, and anfwerable to her greatnefse. The Pr&torian Dignity is therefore come from the ancient Romans, to inuefl with Robes of Honor, our Lord Maior of London : Their Confuls are our Sheriefes ; their Sena tors our Aldermen.

The extention of a Lord Maiors power, is euery yeare to bee feene both by Land and Water : Downe as low as Lee in Effex : Vp, as high as Stanes in Middlefex : In both which places, he keepes perfonall Courts. His Houfe is a Chancery : He the Cha?icel- lor to mittigate the fury of Law : Hee the Moderator betweene the griping Rich and the wrangling Poore.

All the City- Orphans call him Father: All the Widdowes call him their Champion. His Table lyes fpread to Courtiers, and Free to all Gentlemen of fafhion.

More to Proclaime his Greatneffe, what Vice-roy is inftall'd with louder popular acclamations ? What Deputie to his Soueraigne goes along with fuch Triumphes ? To behold them, Kings, Queenes, Princes, and Embaffadors (from all parts of the World) haue with Admiration, reioyced.

Thefe Triumphall pafsages are full of Magnificence for State, Munificence for Coll, and Beneficence for doing good. For, befides all the twelue Companies, (euery one of which is a gayner by this imployment :) it would puzzle a good memory to reckon vp all thofe Trades-men (with other extraordinary Profeflions which Hue not in the City) who get money by this Action.

Brittannids Honor. 99

Then by this meanes, are euery Yeare added to thofe that were before, three Faire, Spacious, and Fallacious Houfes, Beautified, Painted, and Adorned.

The Lord Maior of London (like a Prince) hath likewife his Variety of Noble Recreations : As Hunting, Shooting, Wraftling, before him, and fuch like.

Thus hauing (as it were in Lantfchip) a farre off fhewne you the Toppes onely of our City-Buildings ; and in a little Picture drawne the Face of her Autho rity, giuing but a glimpfe of her Prcztor as hee paffes by ; let mee now open a Booke to you, of all thofe Ceremonies, which this great Festiuall day hath pro- uided to Attend vppon him, and doe him Honor.

Thefirjl Shew, is called a Sea-Confort.

The firfl Salutation being on the Water, is furnimed with Perfons and Properties fitting the quality of that Element. An Artificiall Rocke therefore is queintly contriued : On whofe higheft Afcent fits Amphitrite Queene of the Seas, habited to her State ; a Mantle frindg'd with filuer eroding her Body : Her hayre long, and difheuelled, on her head, a phantaflicke drefling made out of a Fifties writhen mell, interwouen with Pearle, the mell is filuer, on the top of it (lands an Artificiall moouing Tortoyfe : On each fide of her, fwimme two Mermaides. Thefe two intic'd by the variety of feuerall inflruments (ecchoing to one another) haue followed the Sea-Soueraigne, and waite vppon her, as Maides of Honor.

Round about the Rocke are Sea-Nimphes, and in places conuenient for them are bellowed our three famous Riuers, Humber, Trent, and Seuerne, aptly attired according to the quality of fuch Marine Per fons, who play vpon Cornets.

H 2

TOO Brittannicts Honor.

Amphitryte is the Speaker. From whom are deliuered thefe lines.

HAile worthy Praetor, (Haile Graue Senators) The Queene of Waues (leaning Gray Neptunes JBowres)

Waites here (Faire Lord) to ferue you. Fames Re port,

(Sofarre as old Oceanus Christall Court) What Tryumphes Ceremony forth would Call To Swell the loyes of This Grand Feiliuall, Intic'de me with my Mermaydes and a Traine Of Sea-Nymphes hither. Here (this day) Jhatt

Reigne

Pleafures in State Maieflicke : And to lend A brighter Splendor to them, do Attend Three of my Nobleft [ Children, Humber, Trent, And Seuerne (Glorious made by Punifhment) The Siluer-footed Thames (my eldeftfonne) To Grace your Tryumphes, by your Bargey%«// runne.

Your Fortunes (led by a white-handed Fate Vp to this High Fame) I Congratulate : Glad am I to behold you Thus Set Round With Glories. Thus with Acclamations Crownd, So Circled, and Hembd in, on Euery fide With Ecchoing Muficke, Fi/hes euen take pride To Swimme along, and liften, Goe, and Take The Dignity ftayes for you, Whiljl I make Smooth way Before you, on This Glafsy Floore, VJher ing your glad Arriuall to the Shore.

1o Honors Temple now you haue notfarre, Hye, and Come backemoreGit&t than yet you Are.

On,

And fo the Cornets playing one to Another, they goe forward. If her Maiejlie be pleafed on the Water, or Land, to Honor Thefe Tryumphes with her Prefence; This following Speech in French is then

Britannia's Honor. 101

deliuered to her, with a Booke of the Prefentations, All the Couer, being fet thicke with Flowre de Luces in Gold.

v

MADAME,

Oicy, maintenant les Quatre Elements qui vos

Attendent pour vous faire Honneur. L'eau eft Couverte de Triomphes flottans, pour Dancer en L'Air : E EAir eft Remply de Mille Echos, 6- Retetitit de la doulce Mufique, que leur voix refonne, pour Attirer vos oreilles fauorables a les Efcouter. Puis vous auez fur la Terre dix mille Mains qui vous Applaudijfent pour Toy S* Allegrcffe quelles reflentent de voir voftre Maiefte dans la Ville. £ Element du Feu, Bruit <5^ Tonne voftre Bien Venue. Vos Subjects accourent d, grand Foulle, rauis de voir les Graces qui ont choifi leur Throfnefur voftre Front. Toutes les Delices d1 Amour fe louent fur vos paupieres, La Rofe d* Angleterre, 6° les Fleurs de Us de France Sentrebaijent fur le Vermeil de vos loues. Soyez Same comme le printemps, Glorieufe comme EEfte, Autant FruEleufe que la vi%ne. Que Seurte guarde, 6° Enuironne voftre Chariot le lour : Et le Sommeil dore Drefje <5^ orne voftre Chambre de Nuict. Viuez longuement : Viuez Heureuze : Viuez aimee, 6° Cherie. Bonte vous guarde ; Vertu vous Couronne; Et les Anges vous guident.

Thus Englijhed. ROYALL LADY,

Ehold, the foure Elements waite vpon you to do

B

you Honor : Water hath prouided Floating

Tryumphes to Dance in the Aire : In the Aire are a Thoufand Ecchoes with Mufick in their Mouthes, to Intice you to heare them : On the Shore fhall ten thoufand paire of hands giue you Plaudits in the Citty : The Element of Fire, Thunders aloud your

TO2 BrittannicCs Honor.

welcomes. Thronges of Subjects here, are glad to fee the Graces Inthroand on your Forehead : All the Delicacies of Loue, playing on your Eye-lids, The Rqfes of England, and the Lillies of France, Killing one Another on your Cheekes. Be you healthfull as the Spring ; Glorious as Summer-. Fruitfull as the Vine: Safety runne along your Chariot by Day; Golden Slumbers dreffe vp your Chamber at Night.

Liue long, Goodnefse Guard you,

Litie happy, Vertues Crowne you,

Liue beloude ; Angels Guide you.

The fecond Prefentation, New Troyes Tree of Honor.

A Perfon in a rich Romane Antique Habit, with an ornament of Steeples, Towers, and Turrets on her head, Sits in a queint Arbor, Interwouen with feuerall Branches of Flowers.

In her Left hand, me holds a golden Truncheon (leaning on the ground) to mew that fhees a Leader 6- Condutlrefse of a Mighty People : Her Right Hand (thrufting through the Arbor] takes hold of a Tree, out of which fpread Twelue Maine and Goodly Branches.

This Lady (thus fitting) Reprefents London : The Tree (guarded, and fupported by her) The 12. Su perior Companies.

Vpon euery particular Branch, is beflowed \heArmes of fome One of the Twelue, expreft in the True Cullors within a faire mield. The higheft Branch of all (as ouer-topping the Reft at This Time) bearing the Armes of the Skinners in a more large and glorious Efcuchion.

Among the Leaues in the Top, is a Tablet, in which is written, in letters of gold, Viuite Concordes, Liue in Loue : or Agree in one.

Ouer the Perfon, Representing London, is likewife Infcribed in golden Capitals, This,

Brittannids Honor. 103

Me cunttus Lauro perducit ad ajlra Triumphus.

Each Triumph Crown'd with Bayes, Mee to the Starres does raize.

In places conuenient, and in a Triangular forme, vnder the twelue branches of the Tree, are feated Minerua, (Inuentreffe and Patroneffe of Artes, Handy- crafts, and Trades) in Ornaments proper to her quality : And not farre from her, is Bellona goddeffe of Warre, in a Martiall habit, on her head a Helme and Plume, in her hands a golden Speare and Shield, with Medufaes head. Heereby intimating, that both Artes and Armes, are (in a high degree and fulnefle of honor,) nurc'd vp and maintain'd by and in the City : And, that either of them flourifh brauely vnder the fhaddow and protection of the twelue Branches, mooting forth from that. New Troy's Tree of Honor.

Vpon a border of Flowers, inclofing this Tree, are fitly beflowed the Amies of as many of the inferior Companies in leffe Efcucheons, as for the quantity of roome, can there be hanfomely placed.

Within the fame Border, (where leffe Trees alfo grow) are prefented Peace, Religion, Ciuill Gouern- ment, luflice, Learning, Indtiflry, and clofe to Induftry, Honor. For as all thefe are golden Columnes, to beare vp the Glories of the City, fo is the City an indulgent and carefull Mother, to bring vp them to their Glories. And as thefe twelue Noble Branches couer thefe Perfons, (as it were with the wings of Angels,) fothe Perfons watch day and night to defend the twelue Branches.

Thefe Perfons are adorned fitting their Hate and condition, and hold fuch properties in their hands, as of right belong vnto them.

1. Peace hath a Doue on her fift, and a Palme- tree Branch in her hand.

2. Religion is in a white glittering roabe, with a Coronet of Starres on her head, holding in one hand,

IO4 Brittannids Honor.

a Booke open, in the other, a golden ladder, (embleme of prayer, by whofe fteppes wee climbe to Heauen.)

3. Ciuill Gouernment is in a roabe full of eyes, and a Dyall in her hand to expreffe her Vigilance : For fhee muft watch euery houre, and keepe all eyes open, yet all little enough.

4. luflice holds a Sword.

5. Learning a Booke, and a lacobs Staffe.

6. Indujlry, a golden Hammer, and a Sea-mans Compaffe, as taking paines to get wealth, both by Sea and Land.

7. Honor fits in Scarlet.

The Perfon, in whom is figured London, is the Speaker, who thus jalutes his Lord/hip.

r I ^En thoufand welcomes Greete you on thejhore, J^ (My long expected Praetor,) O before You looke on Others, fixe your eyes on Mee, On Mee, yourfecond Mother, (London.) Shee Whom all Great Brittaines Citties, stile their Queene, For Jlill I am, and haue her Darling beene.

The Chrijlian World, in Me, reads Times beft Jlories., And Reading, fals blind at my dazling Glories, But now the Snow of age, couers my head : As therefore you, by Mee haue vp bin bred, You (Sir) mujl Nurfe me now : With a quicke eye View then my Tree of Honor, branching high For hundreds of paft yeares, with 12. large Stems, Twelue Noble Companies, which like 12. lems Sojhine, they adde new Sun-beames to the Day :

Guard all thefe 1 2. maine-Boughes \ but you mujl lay Afoft hand, on the Topping-branch, for there ( Thriue the Roote well) your Selfe grows al this yeare : The leffer twigges which lowly runne along My tall Trees-Border, you must JJiield from wrong, There the poore Bee, (thefweating Trades-man] Hies From Flower to Flower, and home with Honey hyes.

With me Minerua, and Bellona come,

Brittannia's Honor. 105

For Artes and Armes, must at your Board haue roome, Your Gates willfpred, the Rich to entertaine, But whilft the Mighty ones within remaine, Andfeaft'. Remember at the fame Gatefands The Poore, with crying Papers in their hands, To watch when luftice vp the Glafsejhall turne, Let thojefands runne, the Poore can neuer mourne.

Place in your eyes tiuo Beacons] to defcry Dangers far re off, which flrike ere home they flie ; Kifse Peace ; let Order euerjleere the Helme, Lift-handed Rule, a State does ouer-whelme.

You are your Soueraignes Gardner for one year et The Plot of Ground, fare trujled with, lies here, (A Citty,) and your care mujl all beefpent, To prune and dreffe the Tree of Gouernment.

Lop off Diforders, Factions, Mutiny, And Murmurations again/I thofefit high, May your yeares lajl day, end as this beginnes, Sphcerd in the loues of Noble Citizens.

Our third prefentation is calPd, The Glory of Fur res.

THis is a Chariot Triumphant, garnifhed with Trophies of Armors. It is drawne by two Luzernes, The Supporters of the Skinners Armes. On the two Luzernes ride two Antickes, who dance to a Drum beating before them, there aptly placed. At the vpper end of this Chariot, in the mofl eminent Seate, carrying the proportion of a Throne, are aduanced a Ruffian Prince and Princeffe-, richly habited in Furres, to the cuflome of the Country.

1. Vnder them, fits an old Lord, Furred vp to his chin in a fhort cloake.

2. By him, a Lady with Martin skinnes about her necke, and her hands in a MufFe.

3. Then, a fudge in Robes Furred.

4. Then, an Vniuerfity Doclor, in his Robes furred.

io6 Brittannict s Honor.

5. Then, a Prow in a fhort furred Caffocke, girt to her.

6. Then a Skipper in a furred Cap.

In all thefe Perfons, is an implication of the necef- fary, ancient, and general vfe of Furres, from the higheft to the lowed.

On the Top of this Throne, (at the foure corners) are creeled the Armes of the Citty, in foure Pendants : On the point of the fore front, a large fquare Banner plaies with the wind, which Fame (who is in this Chariot,) holds in her hand, as (he Hands vpright, Being the Speaker.

EAme's turne is now to Speake ; for who but Fame Can with her thoufand tongues abroad Proclaime, r this dayes Progrejje (rifing like the Sunne,) Which through the yearely Zodiacke on mujl runne.

Fame hath brought hither from great Mofco's Court, (The feauen-moutti d Volga, fpreading the report}) Two Ruffian Princes, who to feajl their eies, With the rich Wonders of thefe rarities, Ride in this glorious Chariot : How amazde They looke, to fee Jlreetes throng "d, and windowes gladd With beauties, from whofe eyesfuch beames arefent, Here moues a fecond Jlarry Firmament.

Much, on them, startling admiration winnes, To fee thefe Braue, Graue, Noble Citizens, Softream'd in multitudes, yet flowing in State, For all their Orders are Proportionate.

Ruffia, now enuies London, feeing (here) f pent Her richefl Furres in graceful ornament, More Braue, and more Abounding, than her owne : A golden Pen he carries, that can make knowne T/tevfeof¥wres,f0 Great,fo Generall, All men, may thefe, their Winter Armors call.

TK intention ofwarme Furres the Sunne did fret, For Ruffians lafd in thefe, flighted his heate, Which feene, his fiery St cedes he drouefrom thence, And fo the Muff has dwelt in cold ere fince.

Brittannicis Honor. 107

What royalties, adde Furres to Emperors, Kings, Princes, Dukes, Earles, in the diflingui/hings, Of all their feuer all Robes ? The Furres worne here, Aboue tK old Roman State make Ours appear e : The reuerend ludge, and all that climbe the trees Of f acred Artes, afcend to their Degrees, And by the colours charted of Furres are knowne : What Dignity, each Corporation Puts on by Furres, witnej/e thefe infinite eyes, Thanke then the bringers of thefe Rarities.

Iwijh (Graue Praetor) that as Hand in Hand, Plenty and Bounty bring you fafe to Land, So, Health may be chief e Caruer at that Board, To which you haflen. Bee as Good a Lord Pitt eyes of ffeauen, as this day you are Great In Fames applaufe : Hye to your Honored Seate.

The fourth Prefentation is Calltd Brittannia's Watch-Tower.

THis is a Magnificent Structure, Aduancing it felfe from the Platforme, or Ground-worke vpward, with the Bewty of eight Antique Termes, By whofe ftrength is fupported a Foure fquare Building ; The Toppe of which is a Watch-Tower, or Lanthorne, with eight Columnes of filuer : And, on the Highefl poynt of this Watch-Tower, is Aduanced a Banner, bearing the Cullors of the Kingdome.

At foure Corners of the vpper Square, fland foure Pendants ; In which are the Armes of the foure Com panies of which his Lordfhip is Free.

At each end of this Platforme, Hands a great Corynthian Brazen Pillar, on a Pedejlall of Marble.

On the Capitals of thofe Pillars, fland two Angels, in Poflures ready to flye : holding Garlands of Vic tory in one hand, ftucke with White and Red Rofes, and Branches of Palme in the other.

The Capitals and Bafes of the Pillars are Gold, and

io8 Brittannia's Honor.

are Emblemes of the two Houfes of Yorke and Lan- cafler\ once diuided, but now loyned into One Glorious Building, to Support this Royal Kingdom, & Confequently This Citty.

At Night, in place of the Angels, are fet two Great Lights : and fo is the Watch-Tower at that Time, Filld with lighted Tapers.

Vpon the fame Square, in foure feuerall Places, are Aduanced foure flately Pyramides, being Figures, of the foure Kingdomes Embellifhed with Efcut- cheons.

In the vpper feate of all (fafhioned into a Throne) is placed Britannia, Maieflically attirde, fitting to her Greatneffe.

Beneath Her, and round about her, are thefe Per- fons : viz. Magnanimity with a drawne Sword.

A Shipwright with a Mallet, holding a Scutcheon, in which is drawne a Ship vnder fayle. Then,

A perfon reprefenting Viftory, with a Palme Tree.

Promdence with a Trumpet, ready to Forefee Dan gers, and awaken Men to meete them.

All Thefe haue bene, and ftill are, Watch-Towers, and Lanthornes, in the Nights of Feare and Trouble, to Guard the Kingdome, and in the Kingdome,This Citty.

In other Eminent places are feated fome of thofe Kinges of Engla7id (in Robes Ermynd) whofe loues and Royall fauors, in former times were Watch- Towers to Grace London, ftucke full with the Beanies and Lights of Honors, Titles, Offices, Magiftracies and Royalties, which they Bellowed vpon Her.

Edward Confeffor, called Londons Chiefe Ruler, a Port-reue.

Richard I. appointed two Bayliffes ouer London.

King John gaue the Citty a Lord Maior and two Sheriffes.

Henry 3. added Aldermen.

Thefe were Tender ouer the Renowne of the Citty, and ftill heaped on her head, Royalties vpon Royalties.

Brittannia's Honor. 109

And albeit mofl of our Kinges, haue in moft ot all of the twelue Companies, Entred their Names, as Free of the Societies, thereby to Royallize their Brotherhoods : And that many of our Kinges likewife, befides Princes and Great Perfonages, haue bin Free of This Company, whofe Names I forbeare to fet downe, becaufe they haue in former yeeres beene fully expreft : yet no Company, did euer, or can here after, receiue fuch Graces from Kinges, as This An- tient, and Honord Corporation of Skinners, hath had, and Hill haue, In regard that All our Kinges and Princes, fit in their high Courts of Parliament in Robes Ermynd, (being the richeft Furre) the workemanmip of which goes through the Skinners fingers, wearing like wife vnder their Crownes, Royall Caps of Honor Ermynd.

Three of fuch Crownes, beeing the rich Armes of This Company, thereby exprefling afwell their Honor, as Antiquity.

Britannia deliuers thus much.

SHall tht Proud wife of Neptune, orjhrill Fame, Or Troynouant herfelfe, Ring out your Name : And I be Dumbe, or f paring, to Sound high, The Glories of This Day ? No, They /hall Fly Like Soaring Eagles, to That Curled Maine Whofe Head my Rocky Bridle, In does Reyne :

The Great Britannia, Bred you in her Wombe^ Heare then a Mothers Counfell; You are Come Aboard a Goodly Ship, where all your State, Fame, Honor and Renowne (Imbarqdd} muft waite The voyage of twelue Moones. High Admirall You are to All That Fleete, which Thus you Call To fayle in This vafl Ocean. Nor mufl you Walke Heartleffe on the Hatches, Theres a New State- Navigation, to bejludied Now, With an High-reared, Vndanted, Fixed Brow.

1 10 Brittannicis Honor.

Be fur e to haue Braue Ordnance, and Chargd well \ In this your Ship, TruQ None, for Officers Sell Their Captaines Trufl; let None but your owne

Eyes, Rule Chart and Compajje, There your Safety lyes.

Your Owne Hands Jleere the Helme, But strongly

Steere, Andfpite of Jlormes, bejloute when you stand There.

Embleme of Mercy ! Your Keenefword does fleepe, But why a Sword, if not to Kill, and Keepe Vices (like Slaties] in Awe 1 Fulneffe of Wine Is a Fowle Dropfte, That and Lust Entwine : Pride a Swolne Timpany, Sloth, the Beggars Goute, (In Tradefmens Hands and Feete, It runnes about,) No Cure for this / Oathes thicke as Small-Jhot fiye From Children, No Defence to Put this by !

You May, you Mujl. I Counfell not, but Reade A Lejfon of my loue ; By which Loue led lie on, and Bring you to your Honor d Chaire, Whilst Aues (Round about you) Dance f tti Aire.

The last Prefentation is called the Sun's Bower.

The vpper part of this, is adorned with feuerall Flowers, which interwouen together, dreffe vp a comely Greene Arbor, in which the Sunne fits, with golden Beames about his Face ; an Attire glittering like gold ; and a mantle bright as his garment, fringed with gold, his haire curled and yellow. About him are plac'd Spring, Summer, Autumne, and Winter, in proper Habiliments. Beneath thefe, is a Wilderneffe, in which are many forts of fuch Beafls, whofe rich Skinnes feme for Furres : As the Beare, Wolfe, Leopard, Luzerne, Cat-A-Mountaine, Foxes, Sables, Connies, Ferrets, Squirrels, 6°£ Of thefe Beafls, fome are climbing, fome (landing, fome grinning, with liuely, naturall poftures. In a Scrole, hanging on a Bough, This is written in Capitall letters.

Brit tan/mots Honor. 1 1 1

Deus ecce Furentibus obflat.

See, for all fome Beafts are fell,

There's one, that can their curftneffe quell.

Sol is the Speaker.

HEauens bright Orientall Gates lofid this Morne, And Hither wJieeld my Chariot to adorne Thefe fplendors with my Beames : nere did the Sun, In his Cczleftiall Circle fa Her runne Than Now, to fee thefe Sights : O how I toy To view a Kingdome, and a New-built Troy So flour ijhing, fo full, fo faire, Jo deare To tft Gods : they leaue loue's Court to reuell here.

All o're the World, I trauell in one Day, Yet oft am fore d to leaue my beaten way, Frighted with Vproares, Battailes, Maffacres, Famines, and all that Hellijh brood of Warres :

I meete no Peace but here. O blejjed Land ! Thatfeest fires kindling round, and yet canft fland Vnburntfor all their flames ', O Nation blejl \ When all thy Neighbours JJirike, none wound thy breft.

To Crowne thefe ioyes, with me are come along, The four e Lords of the yeare, who by aftrong Knit Charme, bring in this goodly Ruffian prize, As earneft of a more rich Merchandize : Halfe of our Race, Time, and my Houres haue runne, Nor Jhall they giue dre till the Go ale be wonne.

The Sunne at Night being couered with a vaile of Darkneffe: The Perfon, reprefenting London, thus takes leaue.

r I ^HE Sunne is mantled in thicke Clouds of Blacke,

JL And by his hidden Beames, threatens the wracke Of all thefe Glories : Euery pleafure dyes When Rauen-winged Night, from her Caueflyes ;

i f 2 Britannia's Honor.

None but thefe Artificiall Starres keepe fire To Light you Home, thefe burne with a dejire To lengthen your braue Triumphes ; but their heate Muft coole, and dye at length, tho ndrefo Great.

Peace therefore guide you on : Reft, char me your eyest And Honors waite to cheer e you when you Rife.

Let it be no Oftentation in Me the Inuentor, to fpeak thus much in praife of the workes, that for many yeares, none haue beene able to Match them for curiofity : They are not Vaft, but Neate, and Com prehend as much Arte for Architecture, as can be beflowed vpon fuch little Bodies. The commenda tions of which muft Hue vppon Mr. Gerard Chrifmas the Father, and Mr. lohn Chrifmas the Sonne.

FINIS.

London* Tempey

OR

THE FEILD OF HAPPINES.

In which Feild are planted feuerall Trees of magn ificence,

State and Bewty, to celebrate the Solemnity of the

Right Honorable Barnes Campebell, at his

Inauguration into the honorable Office

of Praetorfliip or Maioralty of

London, on Thurfday the

29. of October,

1629.

All the particular Inventions for the Pageants, Showes of

Triumph, both by Water and Land, being here

fully fet downe. At the fole Coft, and

liberall Charges of the Right

wormipfull Society of

Ironmongers.

Written by Thomas Dekker.

Quando magis dignos licuit fpeftare triumphos.

TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE JAMES QAMPEBELL,

LORD MAIOR OF THE MOST RENOUNED

CITTY OF LONDON.

HONORABLE PRAETOR,

The Triumphes which thefe few leaues of paper prefent to your vew (albeit their glories are but fhort liued as glittering onely for a day), boldly mew their faces unto the eye of the world, as feruants attending on your Lordfhip onely to do you honor.

With much care, coft, and curiofity, are they brought forth ; and with exceeding greatneffe of love, a free handed bounty of their purfe, a noble and generous alacrity of fpirit, have your worthy fraternity, and much to be honored brotherhood of Ironmongers be- flowed them vpon you.

It much winnes vpon them to have fuch a cheife, and you cannot but be glad to have fuch a fociety : by a free election are you Londons Prator ; the mffrages of commoners call you to your feate. A fucceffion to the place takes you by the hand, your induftry hath met with bleffmgs, thofe bleffings given you ability, and that ability makes you fit for a magiflrate.

Yet there is a muficke in your owne bofome whofe firings being touchd, yeilds as harmonious a found to 4 i 2

n6

you as all theife, and that is to fee your felfe heire to that patrician dignity with which your father was inuefled. It was an honor to him to weare that robe of fcarlet ; it is a double glory to you, in fo fhort an age to haue his fword borne before you.

You haue the voyce of fenators breathing out your welcome, a confluence of grave citizens, adding ftate to your ftate. The acclamations of people vfliering you along. Whilft I (the lead part of this triumphant day) ipend fuch fand as I haue, to help to fill up the hour glafle, my feruice ronning.

Attending on your Lordfliip,

Thomas Dekker.

LONDONS TEMPE.

[ERE it poffible for a man, in the compafle of a day, to behold (as the funne does )all the citties in the world, as if he went with walking beames about him ; that man neuer fee in any part of the yeare, any citty fo magnificently adorned with all forts of tryumphes, variety of muficke, of brauery, of bewty, of feaftings, of ciuill (yet rich) ceremonies, with gallant Lords and Ladies, and thronges of people, as London is inriched with, on the firft day that her great Lord (or Lord Maior, for 'tis all one) takes that office upon him.

In former ages, he was not encompafl with fuch glories ; no fuch firmaments of ftarres were to be feene in Cheapfide : Thames dranke no fuch coftly healthes to London as hee does now. But as Troy- nouant fpread in fame, fo our Englifh kings mined vpon her with fauours.

In thofe home-fpun times, they had no collars of SS, no mace, fword, or cap of maintenance; thefe came by degrees, as additamenta honoris, additions or enfignes of more honour, conferd by feuerall Princes on this Citty : for in the time of Edward Confeflor, the chiefe Ruler of the Citty was called Reeue,

n8 Londons Tempe.

Greeue, or Portreeue. The next to him in authority ; Prouoft.

Then in the firft of Richard I. two Bayliffes carried the fway : this continued till the ninth of King lohn, who by letters patents gaue the Citizens power yearely to choofe themfelues a Lord Maior, and two Sheriffes.

Then King Henry the 3. made the firft aldermen in London (yet the name of Ealdorman was known e in the Saxons time, for Alwin in the reigne of Edgar was Alderman of all England, that is to fay Chiefe luflice :) and thofe Aldermen of London had rule then (as now) oner the wardes of the cittie, but were euerie year changed, as the mreiffes are in thefe dayes.

Then Edward I. ordained that the Lord Maior mould, in the kings abfence, fit in all places within London as chiefs luflice ; and that euery Alderman that had bin Lord Maior, mould be a luflice of peace for London and Middlefex all his life after.

Then in the reigne of Henry the 7. Sr. John Shaw, goldfmith, being Lord Maior, caufed the aldermen to ride from the Guildhall to the water fide, when he went to take his oath at Weftminfler, (where before they rode by land thither) : and at his returne to ride againe to the Guild-hall there to dine ; all the kitchens, and other offices there, being built by him : fmce which time the feafl has there bin kept, for before it was either at Grocers Hall, or the Merchant Taylors.

Thus fmall rootes grow in time to cedars, mallow ilreames to riuers, and a hand of gouernment to be the ftrongeft arme in a kingdome. Thus you fee London in her meane attyre, then in robes maieflicall ; and fitting in that pompe, cafl your eye upon thofe alluring obiecls, which me her felfe beholds with admiration.

The Firft.

'""T^HE firfl fcsene is a water-worke, prefented by

X Oceanus, king of the fea, (from whofe name the

vniuerfall maine fea is called the Ocean) he, to celebrate

Londons Tempe. 119

the ceremonies and honors due to this great feftiuall, and to mew the world his marine chariot, fits trium phantly in the vaft (but queint) fhell of a filuer fcollup, reyning in the heads of two wild fea-horfes propor tioned to the life, their maynes falling about their neckes, mining with curies of gold.

On his head, which (as his beard) is knotted, long, carelefly fpred, and white, is placed a diadem, whofe bottome is a conceited coronet of gold ; the middle ouer that, is a coronet of filuer fcollops, and on the top a faire fpreading branch of corrall, interwouen thickly with pearle. In his right hand a golden trident, or three forked fcepter.

His habit is antique, the ftuffe, watchet and filuer ; a mantle crofling his body, with filuer waues, bafes and bufkins cut likewife at the top into filuer fcollups, and in this language he congratulates his Lordftiip.

Oceanus his Speech.

Thus mounted, hither comes the king of waues, Whofe voyce charmes roughed billows into flaues, Whofe foote treades downe their necks with as much

eafe, As in my (helly coach I reyne up thefe.

Lowd ecchoes cald me from my glittering throne, To fee the noble Thamefis, — a fonne To this my queene and me (Tethys) whofe eare Ne're jeweld up fuch mufick as founds here : For our vnfaddomed world, roares out with none But horrid Tea-fights, nauies ouerthrowne ; Hands halfe drowned in blood, pyrates pell mell, Turkes flauim tugging oares, the DunkerKs hell, The Dutchman* thunder, and the Spaniards lightning, To whom the fulphures breath giues heate and

heightning,

O ! thefe are the dire tunes my confort fings. But here ! old Thames out-mines the beames of kings.

I2O Londons Tempe.

This Citty addes new glories to loue's court, And to all you who to this hall refort, This Laftea Via (as a path) is giuen, Being paued with pearle, as that with ftarres in heauen.

I could (to fwell my trayne) beckon the Rhine, (But the wilde boare has tufked up his vine) ; I could fwift Volga call, whofe curld head lies On feauen rich pillowes (but, in merchandize The Ruffian him imployes) : I could to theis Call Ganges, Nilus, long-haird Euphrates; Tagus, whofe golden hands clafpe Lifbone walles, Him could I call too, — but what neede theis calles ? Were they all here, they would weepe out their eyes, Madde that new Troys high towers on tiptoe rize To hit heauens roofe : madde to fee Thames this day (For all his age) in wanton windinges play Before his new grave Praetor, and before Theis Senators, beft fathers of the poore.

That grand Can ale, where (Stately) once a yeare A fleete of bridall gondolets appeare, To marry with a golden ring, (that's hurld Into the fea) that minion of the world, Venice, to Neptune, — a poor lantfcip is To thefe full braueries of Thamefis.

Goe therefore vp to Ccefars court, and clayme What honours there are left to Campebels name, As by difent ; whilft we tow vp a tyde, Which mail ronne fweating by your barges fide ; That done, Time mail Oceanuf name in roll, For guarding you to London's capitoll.

The Second Prefentation.

THE inuention is a proud-fwelling fea, on whofe waues is borne vp a Sea Lyon, as a proper and eminent body to marfhall in the following triumphes ; in regard it is one of the fupporters of the Eaft Indian

Londons Tempe. 121

Company, of which his lordfhip is free, and a great aduenturer. And thefe marine creatures, are the more fitly imployed, in regard alfo, that his Lordfhip is Maior of the Staple, Gouernour of the French Com pany, and free of the Eaft-land Company.

On this Lyon (which is cut out of wood to the life) rides Tethys wife to Oceanus, and Queene of the Sea ; for why mould the king of waues be in fuch a glorious progreffe without his Queene, or me without him ? They both therefore twin themfelues together to heighten thefe folemnities.

Her haire is long, and difheuelled j on her head an antique fea-tyre, encompaft with a coronall of gold and pearle, her garments rich and proper to her quality, with a taffaty mantle fringed with filuer croffing her body. Her right hand fupporting a large dreamer in which are the Lord Maiors armes.

On each fide of this Lyon, attend a Mermaid and Merman, holding two banners, with the armes of the two new Shrieues, feueral fifhes fwimming as it were about the border. And thefe two hauing difpatched on the water, haften to aduance themfelves on land.

The Third.

THE third mow is an Eftridge, cut out of timber to the life, biting a horfe-ihoe : on this bird rides an Indian boy, holding in one hand a long Tobacco-pipe, in the other a dart; his attire is proper to the country.

At the four angles of the fquare, where the eflridg flands, are plac'd a Turke, and a Perfian, a pikeman and a mufketeere.

The Fourth.

I HE fourth presentation is called the Lemnian forge. In it are Vulcan, the Smith of Lemnos, his feruants (the Cyclopes), whofe names are

122 Londons Tempe.

Pyracmon, Brontes and Sceropes, working at the anuile. Their habits are waflcoates and leather approns : their hair blacke and fhaggy, in knotted curies.

A fire is feene in the forge, bellowes blowing, fome filing, fome at other workes ; thunder and lightning on occafion. As the fmiths are at worke, they fmg in praife of iron, the anuile and hammer : by the con cordant ftroakes and founds of which, Tuballcayne became the firft inuentor of muficke.

The Song.

Braue iron ! braue hammer ! from your found,

The art of Muficke has her ground ;

On the anuile thou keep'ft time,

Thy knick-a-knock is a fmiths bell chyme.

Yet thwick-a-thwack, Thwick, thwack-a-thwack, thwack, Make our brawny fmewes crack, Then pit-a-pat, pat, pit-a-pat, pat, Till thickeft barres be beaten flat.

We fhooe the horfes of the funne, Harneffe the dragons of the moone, Forge Cupid's quiuer, bow, and arrowes, And our dame's coach that's drawn with fparrowes. Till thwick-a-thwack, &c.

loue's roaring cannons, and his rammers We beat out with our Lemnian hammers ; Mars his gauntlet, helme, and fpeare, And Gorgon fhield, are all made here. Till thwick-a-thwack, &c.

The grate which (fhut) the day put-barres, Thofe golden fluddes which naile the ftarres,

Londons Tempe. 123

The globes cafe, and the axle-tree, Who can hammer thefe but wee ? Till thwick-a-thwack, &c.

A warming-panne to heate earth's bedde, Lying i' th' frozen zone halfe dead ; Hob-nailes to ferve the man i' th' moone, And fparrowbils to cloute Pan's moone,

Whofe work but ours 1

Till thwick-a-thwack, &c.

Venus' kettles, pots, and pannes, We make, or elfe me brawles and bannes ; Tonges, ihouels, andirons haue their places, Elfe me fcratches all our faces. Till thwick-a-thwack, &c.

Cupid fits in one place of this forge, on his head a curld yellow haire, his eyes hid in lawne, a bow and quiuer, his armour : wings at his backe ; his body in light colours, a changeable filke mantle croffing it ; golden and filuer arrowes are euer and anone reached up to him, which he fhootes vpward into the aire, and is ftill fupplied with more from the forge.

On the top fits loue, in a rich antique habite, a long white reuerend hayre on his head, a beard long and curld : a mace of triple fire in his hand burning ; who calling to Vulcan, this language paffes betweene them.

loue. Ho, Vulcan.

Vul. Stop your hammers : what ayles loue ? We are making arrowes for my flip-firing fonne. Here, reach him thofe two dozen ; I mull now A golden handle make for my wifes fann : Worke, my fine Smugges.

loue. Firft heare : you mall not play, The Fates would fcold mould you keepe holiday.

Vul. What then ?

loue. Command thy brawny-fifted flaues to fweate At th' anuile, and to dull their hammers beate,

124 Londons Tempe.

To fluife with thunder-bolts loue's armoryes,

For Vices (mountain-like) in black heapes rize.

My fmewes cracke to fell them. Ideot pride

Stalkes vpon ftilts ; Ambition, by her fide,

Climbing to catch ftarres, breakes her necke i' th'

fall;

The gallant roares ; roarers drinke oathes and gall ; The beggar curfes : Auarice eates gold, Yet ne're is fil'd ; Learning's a wrangling fcold ; Warre has a fatall hand ; Peace, whorifh eyes ; Shall not loue beat downe fuch impieties ?

If t not high time 1 if't not true juftice then, Vulcan, for thee and thy tough hammer-men To beate thy anuile, and blow fires to flames, To burne thefe broodes, who kill euen with their

names ?

Vul. Yes, loue, 'tis more then time. loue. And what helpes this, but iron ! O then,

how high

Shall this great Troy, text up the memory Of you her noble praetor, and all thofe Your worthy brotherhood, through whofe care goes That rare rich prize of iron to the whole land, Iron, farre more worth than Tagus' golden fand.

Iron ! beft of metals ! pride of minerals ! Hart of the earth ! hand of the world ! which fals Heavy when it ftrikes home. By iron's ftrong

charmes

Ryots lye bound. Warre flops her rough allarmes. Iron, earthquakes ftrikes in foes : knits friends in

loue; Iron's that maine hinge on which the world doth

moue ; No kingdomes globe can turne, euen, fmooth, and

round;

But that his axletree in iron is found : For armies wanting iron are puffes of wind, And but for iron, who thrones of peace would mind 1 Were there no gold nor filuer in the land,

Londons Tempe. 125

Yet nauigation (which on iron does ftand),

Could fetch it in. Gold's darling to the funne,

But iron, his hardy boy, by whom is done

More then the t'other dare : the merchants gates

By iron barre out theeuifh aflaflinates :

Iron is the (hop-keeper's both locke and kay ;

What are your courts of guard when iron's away 1

How would the corne pricke up her golden eares,

But that iron plough-mares all the labour beares

In earth's flrange midwimy ? Braue iron ! what

praife

Deferues it ! more 'tis beate, more it obeyes ; The more it fuffers, more it fmoothes offence ; In drudgery it mines with patience.

This fellowfhip, was then, with judging eyes, Vnited to the twelue great companies : It being farre more worthy than to fill A file inferiour. Yon's, the funn's guilt hill, On too't, Loue guardes you on : Cyclopes, a ring Make with your hammers, to whofe muficke fmg.

The Fift.

THe fift prefentation is called Londons Tempe, or the Field of Happineffe ; thereby reflecting upon the name of Campe-bell or Le Beu Champe, a faire and glorious field. It is an arbor fupported by four great termes : on the four angles, or corners over the termes, are placed four pendants with armes in them.

It is round about furnifhed with trees and flowers : the vpper part with feuerall fruites, intimating that as London is the befl flored garden in the king- dome for plants, herbes, flowers, rootes, and fuch- like ; fo, on this day it is the moft glorious citty in the Chriftian world.

And therefore Tytan (one of the names of the fun) in all his fplendor, with Flora, Ceres, Pomona, Ver,

126 Londons Tempe.

and Eftas, are feated in this Tempe ; on the top of all Hands a lyon's head, being the Lord Maiors creft.

Tytan being the fpeaker, does in this language court his lordlhip to attention.

Tytan his Speech.

WElcome, great praetor : now heare Tytan fpeak, Whofe beanies to crowne this day, through clouds

thus break.

My coach of beaten gold is fet afide, My horfes to ambrofiall mangers tied \ Why is this done ? why leaue I mine own fphere 1 But here to circle you for a whole yeare. Embrace then Tytan's counfell : now fo guide The chariot of your fway in a ivft pace, That all (to come hereafter) may with pride Say, None like you did noblier quit the place ; Lower than now you are in fame, neuer fall ; Note me (the Sunne) who in my noone careere Render a Ihadow, fhort, or none at all ; And fo, fmce Honor's zodiac is your fphere, A fhrub to you muft be the talleft pine ; On poor and rich you equally muft mine.

This if you doe, my armes mall euer fpread About thofe roomes you feaft in ; from her head Flora her garlands pluck (being queene of flowers), To drefs your parlors vp like fummer's bowers. Ceres lay golden fheaffes on your full boord ; With fruit, you from Pomona mall be ftoard ; Whilft Ver and Eflas (Spring and Summer), driue, From this your Tempe, Winter, till he diue, I' th' frozen zone, and Tytan's radiant fhield Guard Campbel's Beauchampe, London's faireft field.

The Sixth and Lajl Prefentation .

r I ^His is called Apollo's pallace, becaufe feuen per- fons reprefenting the feuen liberal fciences are

Londons Tempe. 127

richly inthroned in this city. Thofe feuen are in loofe roabes of feueral cullers, with mantles according, and holding in their hands efcutcheons, with emblems in them proper to euery one quality.

The body of this worke is mpported by twelue filuer columnes ; at the four angles of it, four pendants play with the wind ; on the top is eredled a fquare tower fupported by four golden columnes, in euery fquare is prefented the embofd antique head of an emperour, figuring the four monarches of the world, and in them pointing at foure kingdomes.

Apollo is the chiefe perfon, on his head a garland of bayes, in his hand a lute. Some hypercriticall cen- furer perhaps will afke, why hauing Tytan, I mould bring in Apollo, fithence they both are names proper to the funne. But the youngeft nouice in poetry can anfwer for me, that the funne when he mines in heauen is called Tytan, but being on earth (as he is here) we call him Apollo. Thus therefore Apollo tunes his voyce.

Apolloes Speech.

A Polio neuer ftucke in admiration till now, my jt\. Delphos is remouen hither, my oracles are fpoken here ; here the fages utter their wifdome, here the fybils their diuine verfes.

I fee fenators this day in fcarlet riding to the capi- toll, and tomorrow the fame men riding vp and downe the field in armours, gowned citizens and war like gownmen. The gunne here giues place, and the gowne takes the upper hand; the gowne and the gunne march in one file together.

Happy king that has fuch people, happy land in fuch a king ! happy praetor fo graced with honours ! happy fenators fo obeyed by citizens, and happy citi zens that can command fuch triumphes.

Go on in your full glories, whilfl Apollo and thefe

128 Londons Tempe.

miflrefles of the learned fciences waft you to that honorable ftiore whither Time bids you haflen to arriue.

A Speech at Night, at taking leave of his Lord/hip at his gate, by Oceanus.

AFter the glorious troubles of this day, Night bids you welcome home; Night, who does lay

All pompe, all triumphs by, ftate now defcends ; Here our officious trayne their feruice ends, And yet not all, for fee, the golden funne, Albeit he has his dayes worke fully done, Sits vp aboue his houre, and does his befl To keep the ftarres from lighting you to reft. Him will I take along to lay his head In Tethys lap, Peace therefore guard your bedde j In your yeares zodiacke may you fairely moue, Shin'd on by angels, bleft with goodnefs, loue.

Thus much his owne worke cryes up the workman, (M. Gerard Chrifmas) for his inuention, that all the pieces were exact, and fet forth liuely with much coft. And this yeare giues one remarkable note to after times, that all the barges followed one another (euery company in their degree,) in a ftately and maiefticall order ; this being the inuention of a noble citizen, one of the captain es of the city.

FINIS.

A

TRAGI-COMEDY:

Called, Match mee in LONDON.

As it hath beene often Prefented ; Firft,

at the Bull in St. I o H N s-ftreet ; And lately, ^ at the Priuate-Houfe in D R v R v-Lane, called the P H CE N i x.

Si non, His vtere Mecum. Written by T H o : D E K K E R.

LONDON.

Printed by B. ALSOP and T. FAWCET, for H. SEILE, at the Tygers-hezti in S*. Pauls Church yard. 1631.

Drammatis Perfonce.

KING OF SPAIN E.

DON I o H N, Prince.

DON VALASCO, Father to the Queene.

G A Z E T T O, Louer ofTORMIELLA.

MALEVENTO, Father to her.

CORDOLENTE, her Husband.

APLHONSO. \

I AGO. > Courtiers.

MARTINES. '

L VPO.

DOCTOR.

2. CHVRCHMEN.

B i L B o.

PACHECO.

LAZARILLO.

Q v E E N E.

TORMIELLA.

DILDOMAN, a Bawd.

* * '-^—^ ^^^-T/^—4 • jf A 4.

i^a^tf^p^ [%s^m

TO

THE NOBLE LOVER

(and deferuedly beloued) of the Mufes,

LODOVVICK CARL ELL,

Efquire, Gentleman of the Bo WES, and

Groome of the King, and Queenes

Priuy-Chamber.

\Hat I am thus bold to fing a Dramatick Note m your Eare, is no wonder, in regard you are a Chorister in the Quire of the Mufes. Nor is it any Over-daring in mee, to put a Play-Booke into your hands, being a Courtier ; Roman Poets did fo to their Emperours, the Spanifti, (Now) to their Grand? es,^ the Italians to their Ilhiftrifsi- moes, and our owne Nation, to the Great- ones.

I haue beene a Prieft in A. p o L L o ' s Temple, many yeares, my voyce is decaying with my Age, yet yours being cleare and aboue mine, fhall much honour mee, if you bttt liften to my old Tunes. Are they fet III ! Pardon them ; Well ! Then receiiie them.

1 34 The Epiftle Dedicatorie.

Glad will you make mee, if by your Meanes, the King of Spaine, Jpeakes our Language in the Court of Eng land ; yet haue you wrought as great a wonder, For the Nine f acred Sifters, by you, are (There) become Courtiers, and talke withfweet Tongues, Instructed by your Delian Eloquence. You haue a King to your Majler, a Queene to your Miflreffe, and the Mufes your Play fellow es. I to them a Servant'. And yet, what Duty foeuer I owe them, fome part will I borrow to waite vpon you, And to Rejl

Ever,

So devoted. THO: DEKKER.

MATCH MEE

IN LONDON.

ACT US, I.

Enter Malevento.

Malevento.

\Ormiella Daughter — nor in this roome —

Paace.

i. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. ii. 12. The dawne of Midnight, and the Drunk ards noone,

No honeft foules vp now, but Vintners, Midwiues ; The nodding Watch, and pitious Conflable, Ha !

Bilbo

My flreet doore open ! Bilbo, Puskeena, Bilbo. Bawds, Panders, to a young Whore ;

136 Match me in London.

Enter Bilbo.

Bilb. Theeues, Theeues, Theeues, where are they Matter?

Mai. Where are they Bilbo ? what Theefe feett thou?

BiL That ilfauor'd Theefe in your Candle fir, none elfe not I.

Mai. Why didfl thou cry Theeues then 1

Bil. Becaufe you cry'd Whores ; I knew a Theefe was alwayes within a ftones caft of a Whore.

Mai. What mak'ft thou vp at Midnight 1

Bilb. I make them which are made euery houre i'th day (patches.)

Mai. Slaue what art doing 1

Bil. That which few men can doe, mending Sir.

Mai. What art mending ?

Bil. That which few men care to mend, a bad fole.

Mai. Looke here, come hither, doft thou fee what's this 1

Bil. I fee tis our Wicket matter.

Mai. Stop there and tell me, is Tormiella forth ?

Bil. I heard Puskeena our Kitchin-maid fay, (ha was going about a murther :

Mai. A murther ; of whom ?

BiL Of certaine Skippers; me was fleaing her felfe.

Mai. She dwels not in her Chamber, for my

Ghoft Call'd from his reft) from Roome to roome has

ftalk'd,

Yet met no Tormiella. Was not her fweet heart here to night, Gazetto 1

Bil. Gazetto \ no fir, here was no Gazetto here.

Mai. Walke round the Orchard, holla for her there.

Bil. So, ho ho, ho ho. Exit.

Mai. She's certaine with Gazetto,

Match me in London. 137

Should he turne Villaine, train e my poore child forth Though flie's contracted to him, and rob her youth Of that Gemme none can prize (becaufe nere feene) The Virgins riches (Chaftity) and then (When he has left her ugly to all eyes) His owne mould loath her, vds death I would draw An old mans nerues all vp into this arme. And nayle him to the Bed

Enter Bilbo.

Bil. So, ho, ho, ho, the Conyes vfe to feed moft i'th night Sir, yet I cannot fee my young miftris in our Warren.

Mai. No !

Bil. No, nor you neither, tis fo darke.

Mai. Where mould this foolifh girle be 1 tis paft

twelue, Who has inuited her forth to her quicke ruine !

Bil. My memory jogs me by the elbow, and tels

Mai. What Bilbo out with all.

Bil. A Barber Hood with her on Saturday night very late when he had fhau'd all his Cuftomers, and as I thinke, came to trimme her.

Mai. A Barber ! To trim her ! Sawft thou the Muskcod 1

Bil. A chequer'd aprone Gentleman I affure you : he fmelt horrible ftrong of Camphire, Bay leaues and Rofe water : and he flood fidling with Tormiella.

Mai. Ha ?

Bil. Fidling at leafl halfe an houre, on a Citterne with a mans broken head at it, fo that I thinke 'twas a Barber Surgion : and there's one Cynamono a Shop keeper, comes hither a batfowling euery Moone-fhine night too.

Mai. What's he ! Cynamono \

Bil. I take him to be a Comfitmaker with rotten teeth, for he neuer comes till the Barber's gone.

1 38 Match me in London.

Mai. A Comfitmaker !

Bil Yes Sir, for he gaue Tormiella a Candied roote once, and fhe fwore 'twas the fweeteft thing

Mai. Dwels he here i'th City ?

Bil. He has a houfe i'th City, but I know not where he Hues.

Mai. Sheele follow her kind ; turne Monfter, get a light.

Bil. My fconce is ready Sir.

Mai. Call at Gazettoes Lodging, aske how he

dares

Make a Harlot of my child, — flaue fay no more : Begon, beat boldly.

Bil. He beat downe the doore ; and put him in mind of a Shroue-tuefday, the fatall day for doores to be broken open. Exit.

Mai. For this night I'm her Porter ; Oh hapleffe

Creatures !

There is in woman a Diuell from her birth, Of bad ones we haue (holes, of good a dearth. Exit.

Enter Cordolente and Tormiella.

Cor. No more my Tormiella, night hath borne Thy vowes to heauen, where they are fyl'd by this Eyther one day to crowne thy conflant Soule Or (if thou fpot it with foule penury^) For euer to condemne thee.

Tor. Come it mail not :

Here am I fphear'd for euer, thy feares (deare Loue) Strike coldly on thy jealous breaft I know From that my Fathers promife to Gazetto That he mould haue me, contract is there none, For my heart loath'd it, is there left an oath Fit for a Maid to fweare by.

Cord. Good fweet giue o're, What need we binding oathes being faft before ? I dare the crabbed'fl Fate, fhee cannot fpin A thred thus fine and rotten ; how now ! fad !

Match me in London. 139

Tor. Pray Heauen, I bee not mift at home, deare

Cordolente

Thou malt no farther, He venter now my felfe. Cor. How fweet ! venture alone ! Torm. Yes, yes, good reft. Cor. By that are Louers parted, feldome bleft.

Enter Bilbo.

Bit. Who goes there, if you be a woman ftand, for all the men I met to night, lye in the Kennell.

Tor. My Fathers man ! I am betray 'd.

Cor. Feare nothing.

Tor. Bilbo 5 Whether art thou running ?

Bil. Out of my wits and yet no Churles Executor, 'tis no money makes me mad, but want of money.

Tor. Good tell me whether art going ?

Bil. I am going to Hell (that's to fay home) for my Matter playes the Diuell, and I come from feeking out a houfe of euerlafting Thunder, (that's to fay a Woman) I haue beene bouncing at Signior Gazettds Chamber for you.

Tor. Ha !

Bil. You'l be haa'd when you come home.

Tor. I am vndone for euer.

Cor. Thou art not, peace.

Bil. Signior Gazette is horne-mad, and leapt out of his Bed, (as if fleas had bit him) fo that I thinke he comes running flarke naked after me.

Tor. Oh me, what helpe my dearefl Soule ?

Cor. To defperate wounds Let's apply defperate cure, dar'fl thou flye hence ?

Tor. Dare ! try me.

Cor. Then farewell Cordoua ; Horfes wee'l forthwith hire, and quicke to Siuell My birth-place, there thou fhalt defie all flormes.

Tor. Talke not, but doe.

Bil. She would haue you doe much but fay little.

140 Match me in London.

Tor. Bilbo, thou feefl me not.

Bil. No, no, away, mum I.

Cor. To fhut thy lips faft, here are lockes of Gold.

BiL I fpy a light comming, trudge this way.

Tor. You dally with fire, hafle, hafle, Bilbo fare well.

Cor. O ftarre-croft Loue !

To find way to whofe Heauen, man wades through Hell. Exeunt, manet Bilbo.

Enter Gazetto.

Gaz. Wo, ho, ho, ho, — whew.

BiL Another Fire-drake ! More Salamanders ! Heere Sir.

Gaz. Bilbo \ How now ! Is the Dy-dapper aboue water yet ?

Bil. Signior Gazetto \ Mine Eyes are no bigger then litle pinnes heads with flaring, my heeles ake with trotting, my candle is come to an vntimely end through a Confumption. Yet my yong Miftris your fweet hart, like fweet breath amongfl Tobacco- drinkers, is not to be found.

Gaz. On, take my Torch, apace : the neer'fl way

home. Fluttering abroad by Owle-light !

Bil. Here fir, turne downe this Lane ; mail I knocke your Torch Signior ?

Gaz. Prithee doe what thou wilt, the Diuell ! where is me *{

BiL Had you knockt your Torch well before Tor- miella (ware the poft) and held it well vp when it was lighted, me had neuer giuen you the flip, and i'faith Signior when is the day 1

Gaz. The wedding (meanfl thou) on Saint Lukes

day next,

'Tis mine owne name thou know'ft : but now I feare She's loft, and the day too.

Bil. If me mould driue you by foule weather into

Match me in London. 141

Cuckolds Hauen before Saint Lukes day comes, Signior Luco how then 1

Gaz. If fhe dares let her, I haue her Fathers pro- mife, nay oath that I mall haue her.

Bil Here is my Mailers Gate.

Gaz. Stay Ihe's at home fure now : He flip afide, Knocke thou, and if fhe anfweres (as 'tis likely) Weel try if Hill th' old fencing be in vfe, That faulty women neuer want excufe.

Bil. They are made for the purpofe to lye and

cullor, He knocke.

Mai. Who's there ?

Bil. 'Tis I, open the doore.

Mai. What ! to a Common !

Bil. What common ! You doe me wrong fir, though I goe in breeches, I am not the roaring girle you take me for.

Mai. Wert thou with Gazette 1

Bil. Yes.

Mai. Was me with Gazette %

Bil. No.

Mai. Was Gazette alone 1

Bil. No fir, I was with him.

MaL Foole knew not he (he was forth ?

Bil. Yes when I told him.

Gaz. Signior Malevente open the doore pray.

Mai. Oh Luke Gazette.

Gaz. Not yet come home !

Mai. No, no.

Gaz. Not yet ! vds death When I mall take the Villaine does this wrong, Had better flolne away a Starre from Heauen No Spaniard fure dares doe it.

Bil. 'Tis fome Engli/h man has flolne her, I hold my life, for mofl Theeues and brauefl Cony-catchers are amongfl them.

Gaz. All Cordoua fearch ere morning, if not found He ride to Siuill^ He mount my lennet Sir

Match me in London.

And take the way to Madrill.

Mai. Ne're fpeake of Madrill, The iourney is for her too dangerous, If Cordoua hold her not, lets all to Siuill. Hafte, hafte, by breake of day Signior Gazetto let vs meet agen.

Gaz. Agreed :

Mai. We'll hunt her out. Exit.

Bil. But you know not when, will you take your Torch. Exit.

Gaz. Keepe it, luftfull maiden ! Hot Spani/h vengeance followes thee, which flyes Like three forkt Lightning, whom it fmites, he dyes.

Exit.

Enter Prince lohn all vnready, and Pachtco his Page.

loh. Pacheco ?

Pack. My Lord.

loh. Is't fo earely ! What a Clocke Is't \

Pack. About the houre that Souldiers goe to bed, and Catchpoles rife : Will your Lordfhip be trufs'd vp this morning ?

loh. How doft meane, goe to hanging !

Pack. Hanging ! does your Lordfhip take me for a crack-rope.

loh. No, but for a notable Gallowes, too many Lordlhips are trufs'd vp euery day (boy) fome wud giue a 1000. Crownes to haue 'em vnty'd, but come fir tye vp my Lordftrip.

Pach. As faft as I can, Oh my Lord and a man could tye friends to him as faft as I doe thefe points, 'twere a braue world.

loh. So he does, for thefe are faft now, and loofe at night.

Pach. Then they are like the loue of a woman.

loh. Why boy ! Do you know what the loue of a woman is !

Match me in London. 143

Pack. No faith my Lord, nor you neither, nor any man elfe I thinke.

loh. Y'are a noble Villaine.

Pack. Would I were, then I mould be rich.

loh. Well get you gon Exit.

Here's a braue fyle of noble Portugals

Haue fworne to helpe me, its hard trufling ftran-

gers,

Nay more, to giue them footing in a Land Is eafie, hard to remoue them ; fay they and I Should fend my Brother King out of this world, And inthrone me (for that's the Starre I reach at,) I muft haue Spaine mine, more then Portugal^ Say that the Dons and Grand? es were mine owne, And that I had the Keyes of the Court Gates Hang at my Girdle ; in my hand the Crowne, There's yet no lifting it vp to my head Without the people : I muft ride that Beaft, And beft fit faft : who walkes not to his Throne Vpon their heads and hands, goes but alone ; This Dogfifti muft I catch then, the Queenes

Father !

(Pedro Valafcd) what if I got him ! Its but a mallow old fellow, and to build On the great'ft, wifeft Statefman, in a deffigne Of this high daring, is moft dangerous ; We fee the tops of tall trees, not their heart ; To find that found or rotten, there's the Art. How now fago ?

Enter lago.

lago. Good morrow to your Lordfhip, The King lookes for you, You muft come prefently.

loh. Well Sir: muft come ! So ; florifh.

As I muft come, fo he ere long muft goe. Exeunt.

144 Match me in Lyndon.

Enter King, Valafco, Mar tines, Alphonjo.

Valafc. And broad awake !

King. As is that eye of Heauen.

VaL It fpake ! not, did it ?

King. No ; but with broad eyes, Glaffie and fierie ftair'd vpon me thus, As blacke, as is a Soule new dipt in Hell ; The t'other was all white, a beard and haire Snowie like Portugal^ and me thought his looke : But had no armes.

Val. No armes !

King. No : juft my height, Now, and e're this it was mot vp fo high, Me thought I heard the head knocke at a Starre, Cleane through the Seeling.

VaL Fancy, Fancy,

King. I faw it.

VaL A meere Deceptio vifus.

King. A vice Affe ; Y'are an incredulous Coxcombe, thefe faw it.

VaL Well ; they did, they did.

King. I call'd for helpe ; thefe enter'd, found mee dead with feare !

Omn. "Tis right Sir.

King. Did not the Spirits glide by thee ?

Mar. Your Grace muft pardon me, I faw none.

King. 'Shart doe I lye ! doe you braue me ! you bafe Peafant.

Mart No my Lord, but I muft guard my life againft an Emperor.

King. One of my wiues men, is't not ! Ha ! What a Pox fawnes the Curre for here ! away.

Exit^ Martines. Her Spye Sir ! Are you !

VaL Sooth him vp, y'are fooles, If the Lyon fay the Affes eares are homes

Match me in London. 145

The Affe if he be wife will fweare it, la Sir Thefe tell me they all faw it. Omn. Yes my Lord.

Enter lago.

King. And yet I lye ! a whorefon buzzard

Now fir.

lago. Prince lohn is comming.

King* When fir !

lago. Inftantly.

King. Father He tell you a Tale, vpon a time The Lyon Foxe and filly Affe did Jarre, Grew friends and what they got, agreed to (hare : A prey was tane, the bold Affe did diuide it Into three equall parts, the Lyon fpy'd it, And fcorning two fuch fharers, moody grew, And pawing the Afle, mooke him as I make you.

Valafc. Not too hard good my Lord, alas I am craz'd.

King. And in rage tore him peece meale, the Affe

thus dead,

The prey was by the Foxe diftributed Into three parts agen ; of which the Lyon Had two for his mare, and the Foxe but one : The Lyon (fmiling) of the Foxe would know Where he had this wit, he the dead Affe did mow.

Valafc. An excellent Tale.

King. Thou art that Affe.

Valafc. I !

King. Thou : you, and the Foxe my Brother cut

my Kingdome,

Into what fteakes you lift, I mare no more, Then what you lift to giue.

You two broach Warre or Peace; you plot, contriue, You flea off the Lyons skinne, you fell him aliue, But hauing torne the Affe firft limbe from limbe His death (hall tell the Foxe He fo ferue him.

146 Match me in London.

Valafc. I doe all this ! 'tis falfe : in Prince lohns

face

He fpit if he dares fpeake it, you might ride me For a right Affe indeed if I mould kick At you, vndermine you, or blow you vp 1 In whom the hope of my pofterity (By marriage of my child your wife) doth grow None but an Affe would doe it.

King. If I know, your little finger was but in't,

neither age ; Your place in Court, and Councell, refpecl of

honour, Nor of my wife (your Daughter) mall keepe this

head Vpon thefe moulders —

Enter Prince lohn.

Valafc. Take it ; now here's Prince lohn.

King. How now Brother I Sick !

loh. Not very well.

King. Our Court is fome Inchanted Tower you

come not neare it.

Are you not troubled with fome paine i'th head ? Your Night-cap fhewes you are 1

loh. Yes wonderoufly a kind of Megrim Sir,

King. I thinke to bind

Your Temples with the Crowne of Spaine would eafe you.

loh. The Crowne of Spaine \ my Temples !

King. Nay, I but ieft,

A Kingdome would make any Sicke man well, And lohn I would thou hadft one.

loh. It mail goe hard elfe.

Valafc. The King I thanke him fays that you and j

King. What ?

Valafc. Cut you out fir in fleakes : lie not be filent,

Match me in Londom. 147

And that I am an Affe, and a Foxe you ; Haue I any dealings with you ?

loh. When I am to deale fir, A wifer man than you mall hold the Cards.

Valafc. Now I'm call'd foole too.

King. Sir if you remember Before he came, you buzz'd into mine eare, Tunes that did found but fcuruily.

VaL I buz ! What buz !

King. That he mould fell me to the Portugall.

Val. Wer't thou as big as all the Kings i'th

world, Tis falfe and I dene thee.

King. Nay Sir, and more, —

VaL Out with't ; no whifpering.

King. I mail blufh to fpeake it, Harke you, a Poxe vpon't, cannot you footh His fullen Lordfhip vp, you fee 1 doe Flatter him, confefle any thing.

VaL A good left !

I mould confeffe to him I know not what, And haue my throat cut, but I know not why.

loh. W'ud your Grace Would licence me a while to leaue the Court To attend my health.

King. Doe.

loh. I take my leaue — as for you Sir. Exit.

King. My Lord doe you fee this Change i'th Moone,

fharpe homes

Doe threaten windy weather, (hall I rule you Send to him dead words, write to him your mind And if your hearts be vnfound purge both, all

humors That are corrupt within you.

VaL He neuer write, but to him in perfon.

Enter old Lady.

King. Pray Madam rife.

L 2

148 Match me in London.

lag. Doe you know this old furie ?

Alph. No : what is fhe 1

lag. She's the Kings nuthooke (if report has not a blifter on her tongue) that when any Filberd-tree is ripe ; puls downe the braueft bowes to his hand : a Lady Pandrefle, and (as this yeares Almanacke fays) has a priuate hot-houfe for his Grace onely to fweat in : her name the Lady Dildoman : the poore Knight her Husband is troubled with the City Gowt, lyes i'th Counter.

K. He hang him that ftirres in't, the proudefl Fawlcon that's pearcht vp nearefl the Eagle, if he dare, make this his prey, how many yeares !

Lad. Fifteene and vpwards if it pleafe your Grace.

Kin. Some two footed Diuell in our Court, Would thruft you out of all, Inclos'd ! or Common !

Lad. 'Tis yet inclos'd if it like your Grace.

King. Entayl'd !

Lad. Newly Entayl'd, as there 'tis to be feene in blacke and white.

King. This cafe my felfe will handle ; fee no

Lawyer

He (land for you, ha ! Servants of mine turn'd grin ders ! To oppreffe the weake ! What flaue is't ! from my

fight,

Leaft my heau'd hand fwerue awry, and Innocence fmite.

Alph. This Bawd belike has her houfe pull'd downe. Exeunt.

King. So : come hither, nearer, where mines this ilarre?

Lad. I'th City, brightly, fprightly, brauely, oh 'tis a Creature —

King. Young !

Lad. Delicate, piercing eye, inchanting voyce, lip red and moyft, skin foft and white ; (he's amorous, delicious, inciferous, tender, neate.

Match me in London. 149

King. Thou madfl me, newly married !

Lad. New married, that's all the hole you can find in her coate, but fo newly, the poefie of her wedding Ring is fcarce warme with the heate of her finger ; therefore my Lord, fatten this wagtayle, as foone as you can lime your bum, for women are Venice-glaffes, one knocke fpoyles em.

King. Crackt things ! pox on 'em.

Lad. And then they'l hold no more then a Law yers Confcience.

King. How mall I get a fight of this rich Dia mond.

Lad. I would haue you firft difguis'd goe along with mee, and buy fome toy in her mop, and then if you like Danae fall into her lap like love, a net of Goldfmiths worke will plucke vp more women at one draught, then a Fifherman does Salmons at fifteene.

King. What's her Husband ?

Lad. A flatcap, pirn ; if he florme, giue him a Court-Loafe flop's mouth with a Monopoly.

King. T'haft fir'd me.

La. You know where to quench you.

King. He fteale from Court in fome difguife pre- fently.

Lad. Stand on no ground good your Highneffe.

King. Away, He follow thee, fpeake not of haft, Thou tyeft but wings to a fwift gray Hounds heele, And add'ft to a running Charriot a fift wheele. Thou now doft hinder me, away, away.

Finis Attus frimi.

150 Match me in London.

ACTVS, II.

AJhop opened. Enter Bilbo and Lazarillo.

JBil. Lazarillo art bound yet ?

Laz. No, but my Indentures are made.

JBil. Make as much hafte to feale, as younger Brothers doe at taking vp of Commodities : for Laza rillo^ there's not any Deigo that treads vpon Spani/h leather, goes more vpright vpon the foles of his Con- fcience, then our Matter does.

Laz. Troth fo I thinke, now I like my little fmirk- ing Miftris as well.

Bil. Like her, did not I like her fimply, to runne away from her father (where I had both men Seruants and maid Seruants vnder me) to weare a flat cap here and cry what doe you lacke.

Enter Gallants.

Laz. What is't you lacke Gentlemen, rich garters, fpangled rofes, filke ftockins, embrodered gloues or girdles,

Dil. Don fweet Don, fee here rich Tufcan hat bands, Venetian ventoyes, or Barbarian moo-firings — no poynt Exeunt Gallants.

Laz. Their powder is dankifti and will not take fire.

Bilb. Reach that paper of gloues what marke is't 1

Laz. P. and Q.

Enter Malevento.

Bil. P. and Q. chafe thefe, chafe, chafe, here's a world to make Shopkeepers chafe.

Match me in London. 151

Laz. What is't you buy Sir, gloues, garters, girdles,

Bil. Lazarillo, Lazarillo, my old mafter Andrada Malevento ; do you heare fir, the beft hangers in Spaine for your wormip.

Mai. Vmh ! I haue knowne that voyce, what ! Run away ! Why how now Bilbo ! growne a Shop keeper !

Bil. logging on Sir, in the old path to be calPd vpon to beare all offices, I hope one day.

Mai. 'Tis well : good fortunes bleffe you.

Bil. Turn'd Citizen fir, a Counter you fee Hill before me, to put me in mind of my end, and what I mufl goe to, if I truft too many with my ware, it's newes to fee your wormip in SiuUl.

Mai. 'Tis true : but Bilbo, no newes yet of my Daughter ?

Bil. None.

Mai. Not any !

Bil. What will your wormip giue me, if I melt away all that fow of lead that lyes heauy at your heart, by telling you where fhee is.

Mai. Prithee Hep forth, fpeake foftly, thou warm'ft my blood. He giue thee the befl fuite Pren- tize e're wore.

Bil. And I can tell you Prentizes are as gallant now, as fome that walke with my cozen Bilbo at their fides, you can fcarce know 'em for Prentizes of Siuill

Mai. Fly to the marke I prithee ?

Bil. Now I draw home, doe you fee this mop, this mop is my Matters.

Mai. So, fo, what of all this ?

Bil. That mafler lies with my yong miftris, and that miflris is your Daughter.

Mai. Ha !

Bil. Mum : (he's gone forth, this morning to a Wedding, he's aboue, but (as great men haue done) he's comming downe.

152 Match me in London.

Enter Cordolente.

Mai. Is this he 1

Bil. This is he.

Cord. Looke to the (hop.

Mai. Pray fir a word ?

Cor. You fliall.

Mai. You doe not know me ?

Cord. Truft me not well.

Mai. Too well, thou haft vndone me, Thou art a Ciuill Theefe with lookes demure As is thy habit, but a Villaines heart.

Cor. Sir

Mai. Heare me fir — to rob me of that fire That fed my life with heate (my onely Child) Turne her into

Cor. What fir ! She's my wife.

Mai. Thy Strumpet, (he's a difobedient Child, To crofle my purpofes ; I promis'd her To a man whom I had chofen to be her Husband.

Cord. She lou'd him not ; was me contracted to

him? Can he lay claime to her by Law ?

Mai. lie fweare,

She told me I mould rule her, that me was Affy'd to no other man, and that to pleafe me She would onely take Gazetto.

Cord. I will forbeare Sir To vexe you ; what me fpake fo, was for feare, But I ha' done, no Begger has your child I craue no Dowrie with her, but your Loue, For hers I know I haue it,

Mai. Muft I not fee her !

Cord. You mail but now fhe's forth fir.

Mai. She has crackt my heart-firings quite in funder.

Cord. Her loue and duty mail I hope knit all

more ftrongly Sir I befeech your patience, when my bofome

Match me in London. 153

Is layd all open to you, you (hall find

An honefl heart there, and you will be glad

You h'a met the Theefe that rob'd you, and forgiue

him,

I am ingag'd to bufmeffe craues fome fpeed, Pleafe you be witneffe to it.

Mai. Well I mail,

Parents with milke feed Children, they them with gall.

Exeunt.

Bil. As kind an old man Lazarillo, as euer drunk mull'd Sack.

Laz. So it feemes, for I faw him weepe like a Cut Vine.

Bil. Weepe; I warrant that was becaufe hee could not find in's heart to haue my Mailer by th'eares.

Enter Tormiella.

Laz. My Miflris.

Bil. Chafe chafe.

Tor. Where's your matter.

Bil. Newly gone forth forfooth.

Tor. Whether, with whom ?

Bil. With my old Matter your Father.

Tor. Ha ! my Father ! when came he ! who was

with him 1 What faid he, how did my Hufband vfe him ?

Bil. As Officers at Court vfe Citizens that come without their Wiues, fcarce made him drinke, but they are gone very louingly together.

Torm. That's well, my heart has fo ak't fince I went forth, I am glad I was out of the peales of Thunder, askt hee not for mee, was Gazetto with him, Luke was not hee with him ha %

Bil. No onely the old man.

Tor. That's well, reach my workebasket, is the imbrodered Muffe perfum'd for the Lady ?

154 Match me in London.

Bilbo. Yes forfooth, flie neuer put her hand into a fweeter thing.

Torm. Are you fure Gazetto was not with my Father ?

BU. Vnlefle he wore the invifible cloake.

Tor. Bleffe me from that difeafe and I care not, one fit of him would foone fend me to my graue ; my hart fo throbs 1

Enter Gazetto and Officers.

Laz. What is't you lacke.

BU. Fine Garters, Gloues, Glaffes, Girdles what is't you buy.

Gaz. 1 haue a warrant you fee from the King to fearch all Siuell for the woman that did this murther, the act of which has made me mad, mifle no (hop, let me haue that, which I can buy in fome Country for feuen groates luftice !

Off. Your fearching houfe by houfe this is fo fpread abroad that 'tis as bad as a fcarcrow to fright away the bird you feeke to Catch, me thinks if you walke foberly alone, from mop to mop your bat fowling would catch more wagtailes.

Gaz. Well mot Sagitarius, He nock as thou bidft mee.

Offi. What thinke you of yonder parrot i'th Cage.

Gaz. A rope — ha— puffe — is the wind with mee.

Tor. What flares the man at fo.

Offi. His wits are reeld a little out of the road way nothing elfe.

BU. Alas miftris, this world is able to make any man mad.

Gaz. Ha ha ha ha.

Offi. What doe you laugh at, is this mee.

Gaz. No, but I faw a doue fly by that had eaten Carrion it fhewd like a corrupted Churchman fare well.

Match me in London. 155

Off. Doe you difcharge vs then. Exeunt Officers.

Gaz. As haile mot at a dunghill where Crowes are.

Th'art mine ; thankes vengeance ; thou at laft art

come,

(Tho with wolly feet) be quick now and ftrike home.

Exit.

Enter Xing and Lady.

Laz. What is't you lacke.

Bil. What is't you buy.

Lady. That's mee.

King. Peace ; Madam lets try here.

Bil. What is't you lack fir !

King. A gloue with an excellent perfume.

Bil. For your felfe fir !

King. I would fit my felfe fir, but I am now for a woman : a pritty little hand, the richeft you haue.

Lad. About the bignefie of this gentlewomans will feme.

King. Yes faith Madam, at all adventures He make this my meafure, mall I miftriffe !

Tor. As you pleafe fir.

Kin. It pleafes mee well.

Bil. Then fir go no farder, heer's the faireft in all Spaine, fellow it and take mine for a dogskin.

La. Pray forfooth draw it on, if it fit you it fits the party furely.

Bil. Nay Madam, the gloue is moft genuine for any young Ladies hand vnder the Coape, I affure you.

King. I but the Leather.

Bil. Nay, the Leather is affable and apt to bee drawn to any generous difpofition.

Kin. Pray (faire Lady) does it not come on too flirTe?

Tor. No fir very gently.

BiL Stiffe ; as prolixious as you pleafe : nay fir the fent is Aromaticall and moft odorous, the muske vpon my word Sir is perfect Cathayne, a Tumbafine

156 Match me^in London.

odor vpon my credit, not a graine either of your Sal- mindy Caram or Cubit musk.

King. Adulterated I doubt

Bil. No adultery in the world in't; no fophiftication but pure as it comes from the cod.

Tor. Open more, you (hall haue what choyce you pleafe.

Bil. You mail haue all the ware open'd i'th mop to pleafe your worfhip, but you mail bee fitted.

King. No no, it needs not : that which is open'd already mail ferve my turne.

Lady. Will you goe farther fonne and fee better.

King. And perhaps fpeed worfe : no : your price ?

Bil. Foure double Piilolets.

King. How !

Bil. Good ware cannot be too deare : looke vpon the cofl, Relilh the fent, note the workemanmip.

King. Your man is too hard, He rather deale with you : three He giue you.

Lad. Com pray take it, will three fetch 'em ?

Tor. Indeed we cannot, it ftands my Husband in more.

King. Well lay thefe by, a Cordouant for my felfe.

Bil. The beft in Siuell '; Lacke you no rich Tuskan Garters, Venetian ventoyes Madam, I haue maskes moil methodicall, and facetious : affay this gloue fir ?

King. The Leather is too rough.

Bil. You mail haue a fine fmooth skin pleafe your feeling better, but all our Spanifh Dons choofe that which is moft rough, for it holds out, fweat you neuer fo hard.

King. The price ?

Bil. The price !

Foure Crownes, I haue excellent Hungarian mag bands Madam for Ladies, cut out of the fame peece that the great Turkes Tolibant was made of.

King. The Great Turke be damn'd.

Match me in London. 157

Bil. Doe you want any French Codpeece points Sir?

King. Poxe on 'em, they'l not lafl, th'are burnt i'th dying.

Bil. If they be blacke they are rotten indeed, fir doe you want no rich fpangled Morifco fhoo-ftrings.

King. I like this beard-brufh, but that the haire's too fliffe.

Bil. Flexable as you can wifh, the very bridles of the fame fwine that are fatten'd in Virginia.

Lad. What comes all to, before vs ?

Bil. It comes to 4. 5. 6. in all, fixe double Piflo- lets, and a Spani/h Ducket ouer.

King. Too deare, let's goe.

Bil. Madam, worfhipfull Don, pray fir offer, if any mop (hew you the like ware.

Lad. Prithee peace fellow, how d'ee like her ?

King. Rarely, what lure canft thou cafl to fetch her off?

Lad. Leaue that to me, giue me your purfe.

Bil. Doe you heare Madam !

King. The fatall Ball is cafl, and though it fires All Spaine, burne let it, hot as my defires : Haue you difpatch'd ?

La. Yes.

Bil. I affure your worfhip, my mafler will be a loofer by you.

King. It may be fo, but your Miflris will not fay fo.

Lad. Sonne I tell her of the rich imbrodered ftuffe at home for the tops of gloues, and to make mee muffes, if it pleafe the Gentlewoman to take her man along, mee (hall not onely fee them, but certaine flones, which I will haue fet onely in one paire, I can tell you, you may fo deale with me, you mail gaine more then you thinke of.

Bil. Miftris flrike in with her.

Tor. My Husband is from home, and I want skill

158 Match me in London.

To trade in fuch Commodities, but my man Shall wait vpon your Ladifhip.

Lad. Nay, nay, come you, Your man (hall goe along to note my Houfe, To fetch your Husband, you mail dine with vs.

King. Faith doe forfooth, you'l not repent your match.

Lad. Come, come you mall.

Tor. He wait vpon you Madam, Sirrah your cloak e.

Bil. Make vp that ware, looke to th' mop.

Torm. If your Mailer come in, requeft him to Hay till your fellow come for him.

Lad. Come Miftris, on Sonne, nay, nay, indeed you mail not, My Gloue, one of my gloues loft in your mop.

Torm. Runne backe firrah.

King. Doe wee'll foftly afore.

Tor. Make hafte. Exeunt.

Laz. A Gloue ! I faw none.

Bil. Nor I, it drop'd from her fomewhere elfe then.

Lax. I am call'd vp to Dinner Bilbo.

Bil. Are you, then make faft the mop doore, and play out our fet at Maw, for the Miftris of my Mailers alley is trundled before, and my bowles muft rub after.

Laz. Flye then and a great one. Exit.

Bil. She's out a'th Alley, i'th Cranck belike, run, run, rum. Ex.

Enter Lady, Tormiella^ and King.

Lad. Low ftooles, pray fit, my man ihall fetch the

ftuffes

And after Dinner you ihall haue thofe ftones : A cup of wine ; what drinke you ! Loue you baftard ! He giue you the beft in Spaine.

Match me in London. 159

Tor. No wines at all.

Lad. Haue you beene married long ?

Torm. Not long.

Lad. I thinke your wedding (hooes haue not beene oft vnty'd.

Torm. Some three times.

Lad. Pretty Soule ; No more ! indeed You are the youngefl Vine I e're faw planted, So full of hope for bearing ; methinks 'tis pitty A Citizen mould haue fo faire a Tree Grow in his Garden.

Torm. I thinke him beft worthy, To plucke the fruit, that fets it.

Lad. Oh you'd h'a fhon At Court like a full Conftellation, Your Eyes are orbes of Starres.

Tor. Mufe my man ftayes.

La. Your man is come, and fent to fetch your

Husband,

Truft me you (hall not hence, till you haue fill'd This banqueting roome with fome fweet thing or

other : Your Husband's wonderous kind to you.

Tor. As the Sunne To the new married Spring, the Spring to th' Earth.

Lad, Some children looke mofl fweetly at their

birth,

That after proue hard fauor'd; and fo doe Hus bands :

Your honey Moones fooneft waine and (hew (harpe homes.

Tor. Mine (hall (hew none.

Lad. I doe not wilh it mould,

Yet be not too much kept vnder, for when you would You (hall not rife.

Tor. Vmh !

Lad. I was once as you are, Young (and perhaps as faire) it was my Fate Whilft Summer lafted and that beauty rear'd

1 60 Match me in London.

Her cullors in my cheekes, to ferue at Court : The King of Spaine that then was, ey'd me oft : Lik't me, and lou'd me, woo'd me, at lafl won me.

Tor. 'Twas well you were no City.

Lad. Why 1

Tor. It feemes, You yeelded e're you needed.

Lad. Nay, you mufl thinke, He ply'd me with fierce batteries and affaults : You are coy now, but (alas) how could you fight With a Kings frownes ? your womanifh appetite Wer't ne're fo dead and cold would foone take fire At honors, (all women would be lifted higher) Would you not floope to take it, and thruft your

hand

Deepe as a King's in Treafure, to haue Lords Feare you, t'haue life or death fly from your words. The firft night that I lay in's Princely armes, I feem'd transform'd, me thought loues owne right

hand.

Had fnatcht mee vp and in his ftarry fpheare. Plac'd me (with others of his Lemmans there) Yet was he but the fhaddow I the funne. In a proud zodiake, I my Courfe did runne. Mine eye beames the dyals flile ; and had power To rule his thoughts, as that Commands the hower. Oh you (hall find vpon a Princes pillow Such golden dreames.

Tor. I find 'em.

Lad. Cry you mercy.

Tor. My husband comes not, I dare not flay.

Lad. You mufl.

King. You mall.

Lad. Before you lyes your way Beaten out by mee, if you can follow doe.

Tor. What meanes this, are there bawds Ladies too?

King. Why make you, feare not, none here threats your life.

Match me in London. 1 6 1

Tor. Shall not a lambe tremble at the butchers

knife.

Let goe your hold, keepe off, what violent hands Soeuer force mee, ne're mall touch woman more, He kill ten Monarches ere He bee ones whore.

King. Heare mee.

Tor. Avoyd thou diuell,

Lad. Thou puritan foole.

Tor. Oh thou bafe Otter hound, help, help.

King. In vaine.

Tor. The beft in Spaine mail know this.

Lad. The beft now knowes it.

Tor. Good pitch let mee not touch thee, Spaine

has a King :

If from his royall throne luftice bee driuen, I mall find right, at the Kings hands of Heauen.

Lad. This is the King.

Tor. The King, alas poore flaue. A Rauen ftucke with Swannes feathers, fcarcrow drefl braue.

King. Doe you not know me 1

Torm. Yes, for a whore-mafter.

Lad. No matter for her fcoulding, a womans tongue Is like the myraculous Bell in Aragon, which rings out without the helpe of man.

King. Heare me, thou ftriu'ft with Thunder, yet

this hand

That can make Kingdomes downe, thrufts into thine, The Scepters, if proud fall, thou let'ft them fall Thou beat'ft thy felfe in peeces on a rocke That fhall for euer ruine thee and thine Thy Husband, and all oppofites that dare With vs to cope, it mail not feme your turne With your dim eyes to iudge our beames, the light Of Common fires, We can before thy fight Shine in full fplendor, though it fuites vs now To fuffer this bafe cloud to maske our brow Be wife, and when thou mayft (for lifting vp

4 M

1 62 Match me in London.

Thine arme) plucke Starres, refufe them not, I

fweare

By heauen I will not force thee 'gainfl thy blood, When I fend, come : if not, withfland thy good ; Goe, get you home now, this is all, farewell.

Tor. Oh me ! what way to heauen can be through hell. Exit.

King. Why diue you fo ?

Lad. I hope your Maiefly, Dare fweare I ha play'd the Pylot cunningly. Fetching the wind about to make this Pinnace Strike Sayle as you defir'd.

King. Th'art a damn'd Bawd : A foaking, fodden, fplay-foot, ill-fac'd Bawd ; Not all the wits of Kingdomes can enacft To faue what by fuch Gulphes as thou art wrack'd, Thou horie wickedneffe, Diuels dam, do'ft thou

thinke

Thy poyfons rotten breath mall blaft our fame, Or thofe furr'd gummes of thine gnaw a King's

name !

If thou wouldft downe before thy time, to thy crew, Prate of this — yes ; doe, for gold, any flaue May gorge himfelfe on fweetes, Kings cannot haue By helpe of fuch a hag as thou, I would not Diftionour her for an Empire, from my fight.

La. Well fir.

King. Giue o're your Trade.

Lad. He change my Coppy.

King. See you doe.

Lad. I will turne ouer a new leafe.

King. We fearch for Serpents, but being found de-

ftroy them,

Men drinke not poyfons, though they oft imploy them. Exit.

Lad. Giue o're ! how Hue then ! no, He keepe that

flill If Courtiers will not, I'me fure Citizens will. Exit.

Match me in London. 163

Enter Tormiella and Gazetto.

Gas. Speake with you.

Torm. Ha ! good fellow keepe thy way.

Gaz. Y'are a whore.

Torm. Th'art a bafe Knaue, not the ftreets free !

Exit. Gaz. Though dead, from vengeance earth thee

fhall not faue, Hy&na like, He eate into thy Graue. Exit.

Enter Cordolente, and Malevento.

Cord. I dare now beflow on you a free, And hearty welcome to my poore houfe :

Mai. Thankes Sonne :

Good Ayre, very good Ayre, and Sonne I thinke. You fland well too for trading.

Cord. Very well fir.

Mai. I am glad on't.

Enter Lazarillo.

Cord. Sirrah where's your Miftris ? Mai. I, I, good youth call her, She playes the Tortoyes now, you mall 'twixt her and

me,

See a rare Combat ; tell her here's her Father, No, an old fwaggering Fencer, dares her at the

weapon,

Which women put downe men at, Scoulding ! boy I will fo chide her Sonne.

Cord. Pray doe Sir, goe call her 1

Laz. She's forth Sir with my fellow, a Lady tooke

her along. Mai. Taken vp already, it's well, yet I commend

her She flyes with birds that are of better wing

M 2

164 Match me in London.

Then thofe me fpreads her felfe.

Cord. Right Sir.

Mai. Nay (he's wife

A fubtill Ape, but louing as the Moone, is to the Sea.

Cord. I hope fhe'l proue more conftant :

Mai. Then is the needle to the Adamant, The God of gold powre downe on both your heads His comfortable mowers.

Cord. Thankes to your wimes.

Mai. May neuer gall be fill'd into your Cup, Nor wormewood flrew your Pillow ; fo liue, fo loue, That none may fay, a Rauen does kiffe a Doue, I am forry that I curfl you, but the firing Sounds as 'tis play'd on, as 'tis fet we fmg.

Enter Bilbo.

Cord. Where's thy Miflreffe 1

Mai. Oh-pray Sonne, vfe Bilbo Caueare well. Where's thy Miflreffe ?

Bil. She's departed Sir.

Cord. Departed ! whether prithee !

Bil. It may to a Lord, for a Lady had her away, I came backe to fetch a Gloue which dropt from the Lady, but before I could ouertake them, they were all dropt from me ; my Miflris is to me Sir, the needle in the bottle you wot where.

Mai. Of hay thou mean'fl, fhe'l not be loft I war rant.

Enter Tormiellay and paffes ouer the Stage.

Cord. Here me comes now fir, Tormiella, call her.

Bil. What fhall I call her 1 Exit.

Mai. Nothing by no meanes No let her flutter, now fhe's fail i'th net, On difobedience, a gracefull fhame is fet.

Match me in London. 165

Cord. A ftrange dead palfie, when a womans

tongue Has not the power to ftirre, dumb ! call her I fay !

Enter Bilbo.

BiL Strange newes Sir !

Cord. Whatis't?

Bil. Yonders a Coach full of good faces.

Cord. That fo flrange ?

Bil. Yes to alight at our Gate ; They are all com- ming vp as boldly, as if they were Landlords and came for Rent, fee elfe.

Enter Gentlemen and Gentlewomen.

i. Gent. The woman of the Houfe fir pray? Cor. She's in her Chamber, firrah mew the way.

Exeunt manet Gentlemen and walke. Mai. Doe you know thefe ! Cord. Troth not I fir, I'me amaz'd At this their flrange ariuall.

Mai. By their ftarcht faces, Small fhancks, and blifted moo-knobs, they mould be

Courtiers.

Cord. Our Spani/h Mercers fay, th'are the braueft fellowes.

Mai. For braue men, th'are no leffe i'th Taylors

bookes,

Courtiers in Citizens Houfes, are Summer fires, May well be fpar'd, and being cleane out are beft They doe the houfe no good, but helpe confume They burne the wood vp, and o're-heat the roome, Sweetening onely th'ayre a little, that's all, Play the right Citizen then, whil'fl you gaine by

them, Hug 'em, if they plucke your feathers, come not nigh

them. Cord. He clofe with them.

1 66 Match me in London.

Mai. Doe.

Cord. Welcome Gentlemen. Omn. Thanks.

Cord. Pray fir what Ladies may thefe be with my Wife?

1. Gent. Faith fir if they would cad themfelves away vpon Knights, they may be Knights Ladies, but are onely Gentlewomen of an exceeding fweet carriage and famion, and 'tis fo Sir, that your wiues doings being bruited and fpread abroad to be rare for her handling the Spaniffi needle, thefe beauties are come onely to haue your wife pricke out a thing, which mufl be done out of hand, that's the whole bufmefle Sir.

Cord. In good time Sir.

Mai. Of Court I pray Sir are you 1

2. Gent. Yes Sir, we follow the Court now and then, as others follow vs.

Cord. He meanes thofe they owe money too.

Mai. Pray Sir what newes at Court 1

i. Gent. Faith Sir the old ftale newes, black lackes are filFd and {landing Cups emptyed.

Mai. I fee then lacks are fawcie in euery corner, I haue giuen it him vnder the lift of the eare.

Cord. 'Twas foundly, you fee he's ftrucke dead.

Mai. Dauncing Baboone !

Enter Tormiella masKd, and in other Garments, the Gentlewomen with her, and Gentlemen leading her away.

Torm. Farewell. Omn. To Coach, away.

1. Gent. The Welch Embaffador, has a Meffage to you fir.

2. Gent. Hee will bee with you fhortly, when the Moones Homes are i'th full. Exeunt.

Mai. What's that they talke !

Match me in London. 167

Cord. Nothing but this, they haue giuen it me foundly, I feele it vnder the lifts of both eares, where's my wife !

Enter Bilbo.

JBil. She's falne ficke fir.

Cord. The Night-mare rides her.

Mai. Ha ! ficke ! how ficke !

Bil. Of the falling fickneffe ; you and my Mafter haue vs'd her to runne away, that me has fhew'd you another light paire of heeles, fhe's gon Sir.

Cord. Thou lyeft.

Bil. It may be me lyes by this time, but I ftand to my words, I fay agen She's gon fir ; caft your Cap at her, but fhe's gon hurried into a Coach drawne with foure Horfes.

Cord. Thefe her oathes, vowes, proteflations, damnations, a Serpent kift the firft woman ; and euer fince the whole fexe haue giuen fucke to Adders.

Mai. Run into th' Street, and if thou feeft the priuileg'd Bawdy houfe me went into,

Bil. That runs on four wheeles, the Caroach fir.

Cor. Cry to the whole City to flop her.

Bil. I will fir, 'tis euery mans cafe i'th City, to haue his wife ftop'd. Exit.

Mai. Well ; what wilt thou fay, if this be a plot, Of merriment betwixt thy wife and them, For them to come thus, and difguife her thus, Thus whorry her away to fome by-Town e, But foure or fiue miles diflance from the City, Then muft we hunt on Horfebacke, find our game See and not know her in this ftrange difguife, But the jeft fmelt out, fhowts, and plandities Muft ring about the Table where me fits, Then you kiffing her, I muft applaud their wits.

Cor. Well, I will once be gull'd in this your

Comedy, A while He play the Wittall, I will winck Sir.

1 68 Match me in London.

One Bird you fee is flowne out of the nefl, Mai What Bird !

Cord. A wagtaile, after, flye all the reft. Mai. Come then. Exeunt.

Finis Aftus fecundi.

ACTVS, III.

Enter lohn, a Doflor, and Pacheco.

loh. Pacheco.

Pack. My Lord.

loh. It fhall be fo, to the King prefently See my Caroach be ready, furnifh me To goe to Court fir.

Pack. Well Sir. Exit.

Do. Why my Lord 1

loh. What fayft thou ?

Do. You will ouerthrow the ftate Of that deare health which fo much coft and time Haue beene a building vp, your pores lying open Colds, Agues, and all enemies to pure bloods Wil enter and deftroy life.

Enter Pacheco^ with Cloake and Rapier.

loh. I will to Court.

Do. Pray my Lord ftirre not forth.

loh. Lay downe, begon. Exit Pacheco.

Do. The Ayre will pierce you

lohn. I ha tooke cold already.

Do. When fir ?

Match me in London. 169

loh. When you councell'd me to ride my horfe.

Do. Nay that was well, how flept you the next night ?

loh. Not a winck.

Doft. All the better.

loh. But i'th next morning, I could not in a Ruffian ftoue fweat more Then I did in my Bed.

Doft. Marry I'me glad on't.

loh. And had no clothes vpon me.

Doft. Still the better,

loh. My bones Sir pay'd for all this, and yet you cry, Hill the better : when you ha* purg'd your pockets full of gold out of a Patient, and then nayl'd him in's Coffin, you cry then ftill the better too, a man were better to lye vnder the hands of a Hangman, than one of your rubarbatiue faces ; firrha Doctor, I doe not thinke but I haue beene well, all this time I haue beene Sicke \

Doftor. Oh my good Lord.

loh. Oh good Matter Doctor, come no more of this, I haue another Diaphragma for you to tickle, you minifler poyfon in fome Medicines, doe you not 1

Dott. Yes my good Lord, in Purgatiue and Ex- pulfme.

loh. So, fo, breake not my head with your hard words, you can for a need poyfon a Great man ?

DoEl. Your Lordfhip's merry.

loh. Right Sir, but I muft haue it done in fad- neffe, 'tis your Trade Mailer Doctor to fend men packing : harke you, 'tis no leffe Bug-beare then Don Valafco !

Do. The Admirall of Cajlile ! loh. Him you mufl fmcke. Do. 'Tis my certaine death to doe it. loh. And thy certaine death to deny it, if you will not mew him a caft of your Office, He be fo bold, as bellow this vpon you of mine, I am fharpe fet, will you doe it ?

1 70 Match me in London.

Do. I will by thefe two hands.

loh. When ?

Do. When you pleafe.

loh. This day ?

Do. This hower.

loh. And make him fail.

Do. Fall.

/<?/£. For fpeaking.

Do. For fpeaking.

loh. Why then good Doctor rife To honour by it, be fecret and be wife.

Enter Pacheco.

Pa. The Admirall is come my Lord. loh. Away with thefe, (how him the way in, Doaor.

Do. Oh my Lord !

Enter Valafco.

loh. If you faile.

Vol. All health to your good Lordfhip, I wifh

that, Which mofl I thinke you want.

loh. Thankes my good Lord, Doctor difpatch, take heed your Compofitions, Hit as I told you.

Do. Oh my Lord, I am beaten to thefe things.

Exit.

loh. Goe then, this vifitation of your Lordfhip, I take mofl kindly.

Val. Two maine wheeles my Lord, Haue hither brought mee, on the Kings Command, To'ther my loue, with a defire to know Why I mong'ft all the trees that fpread it'h Court Should ftill be fmote with lightening from your eye ; Yours onely dangerous Arrowes fhootes at mee : You haue the Courtiers dialect right, your tongue

Match me in London. 171

Walkes ten miles from your heart, when lafl you

faw me,

Doe you remember how you threaten'd ; as for you Sir

loh. Thefe notes are ftrange.

Val. Oh my good Lord, be my good Lord, I

read

Har(h Lectures in your face, but meet no Comment That can duTolue the riddle, vnleffe it be Out of that noble falhion that great men Muft trip fome heeles vp, tho they fland as low As Vintners when they coniure, onely to mew Their skill in wraflling, 'tis not well to ftrike A man whofe hands are bound, like mould chufe like.

loh. I flrike you not, nor ftriue to giue you falls, Tis your owne guilt afflicts you, if to the King The fong I fet of you, did to your eare Vnmufically found, 'twas not in hate To you, but in defire to giue the Hate True knowledge of my innocence, be fure a bird, Chanted that tune to mee, that onely you Incens'd the King that I fhould fell him.

Val Vmh !

loh. Doe you thinke I lye \

Val. I doe beleeue your Lordfhip.

loh. 'Twas a man mod neare you.

Val, A bofome villaine !

loh. For you muft think that all that bow, fland

bare And giue Court Cakebread to you, loue you not.

Val. True loue my Lord at Court, is hardly got.

loh. If I can friend you, vfe me. Val. Humble thankes.

loh. Oh my good Lord, times filuer foretop flands On end before you, but you put it by. Catch it, 'tis yours, fcap'd neuer yours, your moulders Beare the Weale-publique vp, but they fhould beare, Like Pillars to be ftrong themfelues : would I

172 Match me in London.

Want fifh at Sea, or golden mowers at Court I'de goe awry fometimes, wer't but for fport.

Val. Say you fo !

lo. Sell luflice and fhe'l by you Lordlhips,

cloath her

(As Citizens doe their wiues) beyond their worth She'll make you fell your Lordfhips and your plate* No wife man will for nothing ferue a ftate, Remember this, your Daughter is the Queene Braue phrafe to fay my Sonne in Law the King, Whil'fl fweet mowers fall, and Sunne-fhine, make your Spring.

Val. You looke not out I fee, nor heare the

(lormes Which late haue fhooke the Court.

loh. Not I ! what llormes !

Val. You in your Cabbin know nothing there's a

Pinnace (Was mann'd out firft by th' City,) is come to th'

Court,

New rigg'd, a very painted Gaily foift, And yet our Spanifh Caruils, the Armada Of our great veffels dare not flirre for her.

loh. What Pinnace meane you %

Val. From his lawfull pillow, The King has tane a Citizens wife.

loh. For what 1

Val. What mould men doe with Citizens wiues at

Court? All will be naught, poore Queene 'tis me fmarts for't.

loh. Now 'tis your time to ftrike.

Val. He does her wrong, And I (hall tell him foundly.

loh. Tell him !

Val. He pay it home.

loh. Were you fome Father in Law now.

Val. What lyes heere, Lyes here, and none mail know it.

loh. How eafie were it,

Match me in London. 173

For you to fet this warping Kingdome ftraight ?

VaL The peoples hearts are full,

loh. And weed the State.

VaL Too full of weeds already.

loh. And to take all, Into your owne hands.

VaL I could foone doo't.

loh. Then doo't.

VaL Doe what ! mifprize me not, pray good my

Lord,

Nor let thefe foolifh words we fhoot i'th Ayre, Fall on our heads and wound vs : to take all Into mine owne hands, this I meane.

loh. Come on.

VaL Boldly and honeflly to chide the King.

loh. Vmh.

VaL Take his minx vp fhort.

loh. Take her vp !

VaL Roundly, to rate, her Wittall husband : to ftirre vp

loh. The people, fmce mens wiues are common Cafes.

VaL You heare not me fay fo.

loh. To force this Tyrant to mend or end.

VaL Good day to your Lordlhip.

loh. Shoot off the Peece you haue charg'd.

VaL No, it recoyles.

loh. You and I mall fall to cutting throates.

VaL Why !

loh. If euer you fpeake of this.

VaL If we cut one another throates, I mail neuer Speake of this : fare your Lordfhip well. Alphonfo de Gramada.

Enter Alphonfo.

Alph. Good health to both your Lordfhips. loh. Thankes good Alphonfo^ nay pray flay. VaL Where haft thou beene Alphonfo !

1 74 Match me in London.

Alph. In the Marqueffe of Villa Noua del Rios,

Garden Where I gathered thefe Grapes.

Val. And th'are the faireft Grapes I euer toucht. loh. Troth fo they are ; plump Bacchus cheekes

were neuer

So round and red, the very God of Wine. Swels in this bunch, Ly&us fet this Vine. Val. I haue not feene a louelier. Alph. 'Tis your Lordftiips, if you vouchfafe to take it.

Val. Oh I fhall rob you, of too much fweetneffe. Alph. No my Lord. Val. I thanke you. Alph. Make bold to fee your honour. loh. Good Alphonfo.

Alph. And (loath to be too troublefome) take my leaue :

loh. My duty to the King.

Val. Farewell good Alphonfo. Exit.

loh. How doe you like your Grapes 1 Val. Moft delicate, tafte 'em : Is it not ftrange, that on a branch fo faire, Should grow fo foule a fruit, as Drunkards are ?

loh. Thefe are the bullets that make Cities reele, More then the Cannon can. Val. This luice infus'd

In man, makes him a beaft, good things abus'd, Conuert to poyfon thus ; how now !

loh. I'me dizzie

Oh ! does not all the houfe run round on wheeles 1 Doe not the Pofls goe round ! my Lord this fellow, Loues you I hope 1

Val. He pawne my life he does. lo. Would all we both are worth, were laid to

pawne

To a Breaker that's vndamn'd for halfe a dram For halfe a fcruple, — oh we are poyfon'd. Val. Ha!

Match me in London. 1 75

loh. What doe you feele ? VaL A giddynefle too me thinkes. loh. Without there, call the Doctor (flaue)

Enter Pacheco. Pack. He's here Sir.

Enter Doftor.

loh. Oh Doctor now or neuer giue him his

lafl, We are poyfon'd both. Exit Dottor.

Vol. I thinke our banes are ask'd.

loh. Hee'l bring that (hall forbid it, call him (vil- laine.)

Pa. Well Sir I will call him villaine. Exit.

Vol. All thriues not well within me : On my

foule

T'is but Conceipt, I'me hurt with feare, Don Iohn, Is my Clofe mortall enemy, and perhaps Vnder the Cullor I am poyfon'd, fends To pay me foundly ! to preuent the worfl, Preferuatiue or poyfon, he drinkes firft.

Enter Doftor.

Joh. Giue it him.

Va. No begin. loh. What is't ! Do. Cordiall.

loh. The Doctor mall begin, quickly, fo heere, Halfe this to both our deathes if t come too late.

Vol. I pledge them both, death is a common

fate.

loh. Shift hands, is't mortall ! Do. It flrikes fure. loh. Let it runne.

1 76 Match 'me in London.

Va. 'Tis downe.

loh. I'me glad, thy life's not a fpan long. How is't !

Va. Worfe.

loh. Better, I doe feare this phyfick Like pardons for men hang'd is brought too late.

Do. Hee's gone.

loh. Who's without !

Do. Some of his men attending with his Caroach.

loh. Take helpe ; beftow the body in't, convey it, To his owne houfe and there fir, fee you fweare, You faw him in your prefence fall dead heere.

Do. This I can fafely fweare.

loh. Helpe then, away, Thou art next, for none muft Hue that can betray.

Exeunt.

Flourifh. Enter King, Queene, Tormiella, Ladies, lago, Martines, Fuentes, and Alphonfo.

King. So fweetneffe, He now walke no longer with you.

Qu. Are you weary of my Company !

King. Neuer mail : Prithee keepe thy Chamber a while, the Ayre bites.

Qu. 'Tis becaufe the Sunne mines not fo hot as 't had wont.

King. There's fome Cloud betweene then.

Qu. Yes, and a horrible foule one.

King. I fee none but faire ones.

Qu. No ! Looke yonder, it comes from the City."

King. Let it come, by thefe Rofes I am angry that you let me not go.

Qu. Nay look you, your Grace takes all from me too ; pray Sir giue me my rofes, your Highnefle is too couetous.

King. I muft of neceffitie haue one.

Qu. You (hall, fo you take it of my choofing.

Match me in London. 177

King. I will, fo you choofe that which I like.

Qu. Which will you haue, the bud, or that which is blown ?

King. The bud fure, I loue no blowne ware.

Qu. Take your bud then.

Offers to go, and throwes it downe.

King. Doe you heare 1 are you angry <\

Qu. No, you are jealous, you are fo loath to haue me out of your fight, you need not, for I keepe the fafhion of the Kings of China, who neuer walke abroad, but befides their Attendants, haue fiue or fixe as richly attired as themfelues, to cut off treafon.

Kin. So.

Q. Here be others in the Troupe will bee taken for Queenes fooner then I.

Kin. You are vext, I haue prefer'd a creature to you.

Qu. Who dares checke the Sunne, if he make a {linking weed grow clofe to a bed of Violets 1 vext ! not I, and yet me thinkes you might giue me leaue to chufe mine owne women, as well as you doe your men, I commend no man to you, for lifting joyne- ftooles to be one of your guard.

King. Your Muffe.

Qu. Take it good wife.

King. You will make me angry : good wife ! fo, take it.

Qu. Now I hope you'l take it, you need not fcorne a Queenes leauings, for a Queene has had yours.

King. What !

Qu. You fee ; does your Maieflie frowne becaufe

I take it from her

Come hither, put your hand here ? fo, well met, All friends now, yet tho ty'd neuer fo fail, Being a bow knot, it flips it felfe at lafl.

Exeunt Queene, Tormiel. Ladies and Mart.

K. Is't fo ! wer't thou a Diamond worth the world,

4 N

178 Match me in London.

And ne're fo hard, yet thine owne Duft (hall cut thee : Goe call that Lady backe.

Alph. Which 1

King. Tormiella,

No doe not ! 'Tis a Cocke the Lyon can fright, The Hen do'ft now, the Cafe is alter'd quite.

Enter Dottor.

Do. Your gracious pardon to call backe a life That's halfe loft with defpaire.

King. What haft thou done 1

Do. Poyfon'd a man.

King. Whom haft thou poyfon'd ?

Do. The Queenes Father in Law.

King. Would it had beene the Daughter, thou

malt feele : A double death, one heere, and one in Hell.

Do. I muft haue company with me then : Don

lohn Your Highnefle Brother, fet againft my throat

Kin. Back.

Doft. His arm'd fword; I had dy'd, had I not done't.

King. Our Guard : goe fetch Don lohn our bro ther to Court.

Do. A word in your Highneffe eare :

King. Search him,

Omn. He has nothing.

Do. I in ftead of poyfon, Gaue him a fleepy Potion, he's preferu'd Don lohn thinkes not : the noble Admirall Feares plots againft his life, forbeares the Court But fends me to your Grace, to bid you fet Your footing ftiffe and ftrongly, for Don lohn Trips at your life and Kingdome, to his throat Valafco this will iuftifie.

King. He mail Goe you and fetch him fecretly to Court

Match me in London. 1 79

Alphonfo take the Do6lor and returne. Exeunt.

Death ! when ! lago with your fmoothefl face

Go greet Don lohn from vs,

Say we haue worke of State, both prefently

And clofely bid him come.

lago. I (hall. Exit.

Enter Gazetto.

King. How now what's he, • giue vs leaue, come

hither :

We haue perus'd your paper Sir, and thinke Your promifes Spring-tides, but we feare you'll ebbe In your performance.

Gaz. My deeds and fpeeches Sir, Are lines drawne from one Center, what I promife To doe, He doe, or loofe this.

King. You giue me phyficke after I'm dead, the

Porttigals and we

Haue hung our drummes vp, and you offer heere Models of Fortification, as if a man Should when Warre's done, fet vp an Armorors mop.

Gaz. I bid you fet up none Sir, you may chufe.

King. This fellow He fitly call i'th Villaines

mold,

I find him crafty, enuious, poore, and bold : Into a Saw He turne thee, to cut downe All Trees which Hand in my way ; what's thy name ?

Gaz. You may reade in my paper.

King. Lupo Vindicates ; Vmh ! nay we fhall im-

ploy you

Merrit went neuer from vs with a forehead, Wrinckled or fullen, what place would you ferue in ?

Gaz. Any, but one of your turne broaches ; I would not be one of your blacke Guard, there's too much fire in me already.

King. You fay, you haue the Languages.

Gaz. Yes.

N 2

1 80 Match me in London.

King. What thinke you of an Intelligencer, we'll fend you —

Gaz. To th' Gallowes, I loue not to be hang'd in State.

King. You hauing trauel'd as you faid fo farre, And knowing fo much, I mufe thou art fo poore.

Gaz. Had the confufion of all tongues began In building me, could I fmg fweet in all, I might goe beg and hang, I ha' feene Turkes And lewes, and Christians, but of all, the Christians Haue dried hands, they'l fee a Brother flarue, But giue Duckes to a water- Spaniell.

King. Well obferu'd

Come fir, faith let's crow together, in what flamp Doft thou coyne all thy Languages.

Gaz. I doe fpeake Engli/h When I'de moue pittie, when diffemble, Iri/h, Dutch when I reele, and tho I feed on fcalions, If I mould brag Gentility, I'de gabble Welch, If I betray, I'me French, if full of braues, They fwell in loftie Spanifh, in neat Italian I court my Wench, my meffe is all feru'd vp.

King. Of what Religion art thou ?

Gaz. Of yours.

King. When you were in France 1

Gaz. French.

King. Without there.

Enter Alphonfo.

Alph. Sir ?

King. Giue this Gentleman fiue hundred Piftolets Be neere vs.

Gaz. In thy bofome, for thy Piflolets He giue thee Piftols, in a peece might ha beene

mine, Thou fhoot'ft or mean'ft to moot, but He charge

thine, Thy heart off goes it in thunder.

Match me in London. 1 8 1

King. Through the Gallerie, Vnfeene conuay him hither, give vs leaue fir.

Gaz. Leaue haue you ? Exeunt.

Enter Doftor, Valafco, and Alphonfo.

Val. I'm glad to fee your Maiefly.

King. You haue reafon.

Vol. I was going to cry all hid.

King. Come hither Dead man you'l iuftifie this treafon ?

Val. To his teeth, Throate, mouth to mouth, bodie to bodie.

King. So.

Enter lago.

lag. Don lohn of Caftile 's come.

King. A Chaire, fland you Full here and ftirre not, front him, bring him in How, now, did a Hare croffe your way ?

Enter Don lohn.

loh. The Diuell

Doctor He giue you a purge for this, He make Your Highneffe laugh.

King. You mufl tickle me foundly then.

loh. In this retreat of mine from Court, my

bodie

(Which was before a cleane flreame) growing foule By my minds trouble, through your high difpleafure Which went to th' bottome of my heart ; I call'd That found Card to me, gaue him fees and bid him (By all the faireft props that Art could reare) To keepe my health from falling, which I felt Tottering and fhaken, but my Vrinalift (As if he fate in Barber-Surgions Hall Reading Anatomy Lectures) left no Artery Vnflretcht vpon the Tenters.

1 82 Match me in London.

King. So he vext you to the guts.

loh. My bowels were his coniuring roomes, to

quit him

I tempted him to poyfon a great man, I knowing this my honourable friend

VaL Keepe backe, hee'l poyfon my gloue elfe.

loh. Comming to vifit me, This was the man muft die.

King. Why did you this ?

loh. Onely to hatch a jeft on my pill'd Doddy, I knew he durft not doo't.

King. But fay he had 1

Val. Then he had beene hang'd.

loh. That had made me more glad.

Doft. I am bound to your Lordlhip.

loh. Being a Do6lor you may loofe your felfe.

King. Mens Hues then are your Balls, difarme him.

loh. How ! not all thy Kingdome can. Drawes.

King. Hew him in peeces, Our Guard, s'death kill him.

loh. Are you in earneft 1

King. Looke.

loh. See then, I put my felfe into your Den : What does the Lyon now with me ?

King. Th'art a traytor.

loh. I am none.

King. No !

Val. Yes, an arrant traytor.

loh. You fir ; fpit all thy poyfon forth. Val. No, I dranke none fir.

King. Come to your proofes, and fee you put 'em home.

VaL You and I one day, being in conference, You nam'd this noble King (my Soveraigne) A tyrant, bid me flrike, 'twas now my time, Spake of a Peece charg'd, and of mooting off Of ftirring vp the Rafcals to rebell, And to be fhort, to kill thee.

Match me in London. 183

loh. I fpeake this !

Val. Yes Traytor, thou.

loh. Where !

Val. In your Chamber.

loh. Chamber !

Was it not when you told me, that the King Had got a ftrumpet.

King. Ha. Val. How !

loh. A Citizens wife ; 'Twas when you fwore to pay him foundly.

Val. See, fee !

loh. The peoples hearts were full.

Val. Poxe, a'my heart then.

loh. Or was't not when you threaten' d to take all, Into your owne hands :

Val. There's my gloue, thou lyeft.

Kin. Good ftuffe, I (hall find traitors of you both, If you are, be fo ; with my finger, thus I fanne away the dufl flying in mine eyes Rais'd by a little wind ; I laugh at thefe now, 'Tis fmoake, and yet becaufe you mail not thinke Well dance in Earth quakes, or throw fquibs at

Thunder,

I charge both keepe your Chambers for a day Or fo.

Val. Your will. Exit.

loh. Chambers !

King. We bid it.

loh. You may. Exit.

Enter Queene, and Ladies.

Omn. The Queene.

Qu. I thanke your highneffe for the bird you gaue me.

King. What bird ?

Qu. Your Taffell gentle, fhee's lur'd off and gone.

King. How gon ! what's gone !

1 84 Match me in London.

Qu. Your woman's fled Whom you prefer' d to me, fhe's flolne from Court.

Xing. You ieft.

Qu. Bee it fo. Goes away.

King. I haue hotter newes for you, Your Fathers head lies here, art thou flill (hooting Thy flings into my fides ! Now doe you looke I mould turne wild, and fend through all the winds Horfemen in quefl of her, becaufe you weare A kind of yellow Hocking ; let her flie If loue forfooth would fixe a flarre in Heauen, Juno runnes mad, thou better mightft haue fpurn'd The gates of hell ope ; then to looke into Our bofome.

Qu. Where your Trull lyes.

King. Y'are a Toad.

Qu. Womans reuenge awake thee, thou haft ftirr'd A blood as hot and high as is thine owne Raife no more flormes ; your treafure is not gon, I fear'd the Sea was dangerous, and did found it Mifchiefe but halfe vp, is with eafe confounded. Exif,

King. In thine owne ruine, me canfl thou hit But with one finger which can doe no harme But when a King flrikes, 'tis with his whole arme.

Exit.

Enter Qucene and Tormiella.

Qu. Make faft the Clofet — fo — giue me the key I meane to kill thee.

Tor. Kill me, for what caufe ?

Qu. Gueffe.

Tor. I know none, vnleffe the Lambe mould aske The Butcher why he comes to cut his throat.

Qu. I could through loope holes hit thee, or hire

flaues And fend death to thee, twenty fecret wayes.

Tor. Why would you doe all this ?

Qu. Or (as the Hart

Match me in London. 185

Drawes Serpents from their Den) with fubtill breath I could allure thee to fit downe, and banquet With me as with the King thou haft.

Tor. Oh neuer —

Qu. Yet poyfon you moft fweetly.

Tor. Now you doe it.

Qu. And I could make thee a Queenes bedfellow As thou haft beene a Kings.

Tor. Neuer by

Qu. Sweare,

Yet ftifle you in a pillow, but I fcorne To ftrike thee blindfold, onely thou fhalt know An Eagles neft, difdaines to hatch a Crow : Why are all mouth es in Spaint fill'd to the brim, Flowing o're with Court newes, onely of you and him The King I meane, where lies the Court ?

Tor. Sure here.

Qu. It remou'd laft, to th* mop of a Millaner The gefts are fo fet downe, becaufe you ride Like vs, and fteale our fafhions and our tyers, You'l haue our Courtiers to turne fhopkeepers, And fall to trading with you, ha !

Tor. Alas the Court to me is an inchanted tower Wherein I'me lockt by force, and bound by fpels To Heauen to fome, to me ten thoufand Hels I drinke but poyfon in gold, fticke on the top Of a high Pinnacle, like an idle vaine (As the wind turnes) by euery breath being toft And once blowne downe ; not mifs'd, but for euer loft.

Qu. Out Crocadile, — Spume her.

Tor. You will not murther me !

Qu. He cure you of the Kings euill. —

Draw 2. kniues.

Tor. To one woman Another mould be pittifull, heare me fpeake ?

Qu. How dares fo bafe a flower follow my Sunne At's rifmg to his fetting.

Term. I follow none.

1 86 Match me in London.

Qu. How dar'tt thou Serpent wind about a tree That's mine.

Torm. I doe not.

Qu. Or to fhake the leaues.

Tor. By Heauen, not any.

Qu. Or once to tafle the fruit Tho throwne into thy lap, if from a Harlot Prayers euer came ; pray, for thou dy'ft.

Torm. Then kill me.

Qu. How did my Husband win thee 1

Torm. By meere force ; a Bawd betray'd me to him.

Qu. Worfe and worfe.

Torm. If euer I haue wrong'd your royall bed In ac~l, in thought, nayle me for euer faft, To fcape this Tyger of the Kings fierce luft I will doe any thing, I will fpeake treafon Or Drinke a Cup of poyfon, which may blaft My inticing face, and make it leprous foule : Ruine you all this, fo you keepe vp my Soule j That's all the wealth I care for.

Qu. I haue now no hart left to kill thee, rife, thou

and I

Will like two quarrelling Gallants fatter tye A knot of Loue, we both i'th Field being wounded Since we mutt needs be fharers, vfe me kindly And play not the right Citizen, to vndoe Your partner, who i'th ttocke has more than you.

A noyfe within. Enter the King.

King. Mutt you be clofetted ? Qu. Yes.

King. What are you doing? Qu. Not getting Children. King. Naked kniues ; for what, Speake, s'death fpeake you.

Tor. They both fell from her fide. King. You lie, away.

Match me in Londom. 1 8 7

Qu. Muft you be clofetted ?

King. Yes.

Qu. When hart break'ft thou, thou doft too much

fwell, This Afpifh biting, is incurable. Exit.

King. Be true to me I charge you ; did the Queene Offer no violence to you.

Tor. None at all.

King. Why were thefe drawne.

Tor. I know not.

King. Know not ; what's heere, Why is this rofe deni'd with a pearled teare. When the funne mines fo warme, you know not that

too,

The lambe has am'd the Lyon, the vulture tyers Vpon the Eagles hart, thefe fubtill wyers Chaine loue, thefe balls, from whofe flames Cupid

drew,

His wild fire burnes heere, this you know not too. I loue you, that you know not neither, y'are coy, And proud, and faire, you know this,

2or. I befeech you

Let me make off the golden fetters you tye About my body, you inioy a body Without a foule, for I am now not heere.

King, Where then.

Tor. At home in my poore husbands armes, This is your Court, that mine.

King. Your husbands armes, Thou art his whore, he plai'd the theefe and rob'd Another of thee, and to fpoyle the fpoyler, Is Kingly iuflice, 'tis a lawfull prize That's ta'ne from Pirates ; there's are fellow wiues.

Tor. Which of your fubiecls (which abroad adore Your flate, your greatneffe, prefence and your throne Of funne beames) thinke you now are with a wanton, Or working a chafl wife to become one.

King. I worke thee not to be fo, for when time Shall iog his glaffe and make thofe lands lye low

1 88 Match me in London.

Which now are at the top, thy felfe lhalt grow In felfe fame place my Queen e does.

Tor. What tree euer flood Long and deepe rooted, that was fet in blood ; I will not be your whore to weare your Crowne, Nor call any King my Husband, but mine owne.

King. No !

Tor. No 'twere fhame 'mongft all our City Dames If one could not fcape free, their blafled fames.

King. The found of Bels and Timbrels make you

mad

As it does a Tyger, the fofter that I ftroke you The worfe you bite, your father and your Husband Are at my fending come to Court, lie lay Honours on both their backs, here they fhall flay Becaufe lie keepe you here, if you doe frowne The engine which reares vp, mail plucke all downe. He fetch 'em to you my felfe. Exit.

Tor. Oh who can flirting (cape in bafer throngs, When Princes Courts threaten the felfe-fame wrongs !

Exit.

Finis Aftus tertij.

ACTVS, IIII.

Flouri/h. Enter King, Maleuento, Cordoknte, lago, Alphonfo, Gazetto, and Tormiella.

King. Y'aue the befl welcome which the Court can

yeeld, For the King gives it you.

Mai. Your Grace is gracious.

Match me in London. 189

King. Is this your Father ?

Mai. My proper flefli and bloud Sir.

King. And that your Husband ?

Cor. Not I fir ; I married an honefl wench that went in a cap, no whim whams ; I did but muffle the firfl dealing, you cut laft, and dealt lafl, by the fame token you turn'd vp a Court Card.

Kin%. Is the man iealous !

Cor. No, but a little troubled with the yellow laundize, and you know if it get to the Crowne of the head, a man's gon.

King. We fend not for you hither to be brau'd, Sirrah call your darts elfewhere.

Cor. Among the wild Iri/h Sir hereafter.

King. 'Tis our Queenes pleafure that your wife be

call'd

Her woman, and becaufe me will not loofe her, She hath importun'd vs to raife you both ; Your name fir %

Mai. Mine, Andrada Maleuento.

King. Andrada Maleuento we make you Vice-Admirall of our Nauy.

Cor. Oh fpitefull Comedy, he's not a Courtier of halfe an houres {landing, and he's made a Vice already.

King. We make thy Husband

Cor. A Cuckold doe you not.

Mai. Sonne you forget your felfe.

Cor. Meddle with your owne office ; there's one will looke that none meddles with mine.

Mai. Is not a change good ?

Cor. Yes, of a louzie fhirt.

King. Take hence that fellow, he's mad.

Cor. I am indeed horne-mad, oh me, in the holyeft place of the Kingdome haue I caught my vndoing, the Church gaue mee my bane.

Tor. What the Church gaue thee, thou haft ftilL

Cor. Halfe parts, I thought one had tane thee vp.

Tor. Take me home with thee, He not flay here.

1 90 Match me in London.

Kin. Ha !

Tor. Let me not come to Court.

Mai. The King is vexf, let me perfwade th.ee

Sonne To wincke at fmall faults.

Cor. What fir Pandarus /

Tor. Sends the King you to blufh in's roome.

Mai. Y'are a baggage.

King. Goe tell the lunatique fo ; Andrada harke,

Ia%. The King fir bids me fing into your eare, Sweet notes of place and office which mail fall

Cor. Into my mouth, I gape for 'em,

lag. He bids me aske what will content you.

Cor. Nothing, nothing, why Sir the powers aboue cannot pleafe vs, and can Kings thinke you, when we are brought forth to the world, we cry and bawle as if we were vnwilling to bee borne ; and when we are a dying we are mad at that.

King. Take hence that Wolfe that barkes thus.

Cor. I am muzzel'd, but one word with your Maieflie, I am fober fir.

King. So fir.

Cor. You oft call Parliaments, and there ena6l Lawes good and wholefome, fuch as who fo breake Are hung by th' purfe or necke, but as the weake And fmaller flyes i'th Spiders web are tane When great ones teare the web, and free remaine. So may that morall tale of you be told, Which once the Wolfe related : in the Fold The Shepheards kill'd a fheepe and eate him there The Wolfe lookt in, and feeing them at fuch cheere, Alas (quoth he) mould I touch the leafl part Of what you teare, you would plucke out my hart, Great men make Lawes. that whofoe're drawes blood Shall dye, but if they murder flockes 'tis good : He goe eate my Lambe at home fir.

King. Part, and thus reckon neuer to fee her more.

Cor. Neuer !

Match me in London. \ 9 1

Tor. Neuer thus, but thus a Princes whore.

Exeunt. Cor. Thou dar'ft not, if thou do' ft, my heart is

great, Thus wrong'd, thou canft doe little if not threat.

Gaz. Ha, ha, ha, ha.

Cor. At what doft laugh ?

Gaz. At a thing of nothing, at thee ; why (houldft thou be afraid to fall into the Cuckolds difeafe.

Cor. JBecaufe it makes a Doctor an Affe, nothing can cure it, are you anfwer'd Sir ?

Gaz. Come th'art a foole, to grieue that thy wife is taken away by the King to his priuate bed chamber. Now like a booke call'd in, fhee'l fell better then euer me did.

Cor. Right fir, but could he chufe no ftocke to graft vpon, but that which was planted in my nurferie.

Gaz. He mew thee a reafon for that.

Cor. Why?

Gaz. Leachers comming to women, are like Mice amongft many Cheefes, they tafte euery one, but feed vpon the beft : homes rightly weigh'd are nothing.

Cor. How nothing ! oh fir, the fmalleft Letters hurt your eyes moft, and the leaft head-ach which comes by a womans knocking hurts more then a cut to the fcull by a mans knocking.

Gaz. Yet I warrant thou dar'ft fweare the party's honeft 1

Cor. Ha ; fweare ; not I, no man durfl euer fweare for his wife but Adam, nor any woman for her husband but Eue> fare you well fir.

Gaz. Whether art flying ?

Cor. In peices doft not fee I'me mot out of a Cannon. Exit.

Gaz. Down e wards He fhoote thee, but as Diuels

vfe

He tickle at thy tortures, dance at thy ftumbling, Play with thee, and then paw thee, '(halt make me merry

1 92 Match me in London.

The Crowne of blacke deeds that are hatcht in Hell Is to out-liue and laugh, and all's play'd well. Exit.

Enter Clowne, and Coxecombe.

Clo. I haue not pafs'd by a Don, to touch whofe hand mine owne was neuer more troubled with a more terrible itch.

Cox. I haue not met a Signipr, at whom mine owne eyes (as if roafted enough) did euer burne more in defire to flye out : fo that whether to recoyle or aduance on, I am betweene Hawke and Buzzard.

Sil. The honey of fweet Complement fo turne vp your Tuskes or Mochatoes, that they be not too fliffe, to brifle againfl my acquaintance.

Cox. Your acquaintance is a Limbeck, out of which runneth a perfum'd water, bathing my noflhrils in a flrong fcent of your embracings : are you of Court Signior ?

Bit. No Signior of the City : are you a Don of the Citie !

Cox. No Signior of the Court City, I fmile.

Bil. Why.

Cox. I affure you Signior, you are to vs of the

Court but Animals

You are held but as mooing homes to wait on great Lords heeles,

Bil. Let em pay vs what they owe then, and pull on their fhoes, and wee'll wait no more.

Cox. You are our Apes.

Bil. But you are fuller of Apifh trickes.

Cox. No fooner leape our Ladies into a fafhion, but your Wiues are ready to creepe into the fame.

Bil. Why not ; for tho fome of your Ladies in vent the fafhion, fome of our wiues husbands are neuer pay'd for the fluffe or making.

Cox. Giue way with your poore fcull to our oares : for I tell thee Signior you of the city, are the flatten milke of the kingdome, and wee of the Court, the Creame.

Match me in London. 193

Bil. I tell thee Signior ! wee of the City eate none of your Court butter, but fome of you munch vp our flatten milk cheefe.

Cox. Be not too loud j tho you are good ringers in the City, for moft of you haue bels at your doores.

Bil. Be not you too loud : for you might be good fingers at Court but that mofl of you are fpoyled in learning your prickfong.

Cox. Bee temporate : I will mew you your City Cinquipace, you beare, fweare, teare, reare, and weare ; you beare the Tanckerd, fweare mop oathes, teare money out of debtors throates, reare rich eftates, weare good clothes, but carry your Confcience in torne pockets.

Bil. Bee attentiue, I will mew you your Court Coranto pace, it confifteth of 5. bees and 3. cees ; you borrow of any man, are braue on any termes, brag at any hand to pay, bellow at any that demands it, bite any Catchpole that fangs you, but carry neither Confcience nor coyne in your whole pockets.

Cox. Tell me Signior, tell mee why in the City does a harmleffe figne hang at the doore of a fubtill Nicodemus fitting a mop 1

Bil. And tell me Signior, tell me, why when you eate of good cheare i'th City, haue you handfome wide chops, but meeting vs at Court, none; your gumme's glew'd vp, your lips coap'd like a Ferret, not io much as the corner of a Cuflard ; in a cold cup, and a dry cheate loafe 'tis well.

Cox. Come, come, You are Acornes, and your Sonnes the Prodigals that eate you vp.

Bil. Goe, goe, you are Prodigals, and glad of the yellow Acornes we leaue our Sonnes.

Cox. I will croffe my felfe when I owe money to a Citizen, and pafle by his doore.

Bil. I will bleffe my felfe, when a Courtier owing me no money, comes neare my doore.

Cor* You are difcended from the tanckerd gene ration.

1 94 Match me in London.

Bil. You are afcended vp to what you are, from the blacke lacke and bumbard diflillation. Cox. Deere Signior. Bil. Delicious Don. Exeunt.

Enter Don lohn.

loh. Boy.

Pack. My Lord.

loh. Art fure thou faw'ft the Admirall at Court !

Pack. Am I fure I fee your Lordfhip in your gowne.

loh. And talking with the King 1

Pack. Moft familiarly.

loh. And what fay the people about my commit ting to mine owne houfe?

Pach. The bead grinnes at it, there's a Libell already of you my Lord.

loh. A Libell, away,

Pa. Yes faith my Lord, and a Song to the tune of Lament Ladies, Lament.

loh. I'me glad the ftinkards are fo merry, a halter on 'em, it is mufick to them to have euery man thrown off, you haue feen the Kings Miftris, boy haue you not, what manner of peice is't 1

Pach. Troth my Lord I know not, I neuer faw her mot off a pretty little pocket dag.

loh. What report giues me ?

Pach. A very good report of her Husband, but he giues an ill report of her.

loh. How does the Ladies take it ; now the King keepes a Wench vnder the Queenes nofe ?

Pach. They take it paffing heauily, it goes to the heart of fome of them, that he keepes not them too.

loh. I heard fay they were all once leauing the Court ?

Pach. True fir, but there was a deuife which ftopp'd 'em.

loh. Who are you ! Knocking within.

Match me in London. 195

Val. My Lord, we muft fpeake with you. loh. What are you ? fetch me a weapon. Omn. Your friends. King. 'Sdeath breake it open.

Enter King^ Valafco, and others.

loh. The King ; I did not vnderfland your Ma- iefty.

King. You (hall, for He fpeake plaine to you, know you thefe 1

loh. Not I.

King. You doe not, a Kings arme thou feefl Has a long reach, as farre as Portugall Can We fetch treafon backe hatcht here by you.

loh. Me!

King. Thee and the trayterous Portugal* to de-

priue me

Of life and Crowne, but I mall flrike their King And them, and thee beneath into the earth.

loh. And lower then earth you cannot.

King. Halfe your body is in the graue, it only

lackes our hand

To caft the dufl vpon you, yet you ftand On flippery Ice your felfe, and trip at vs Whofe foot is fixt on Rocks, but fince th'aft, throwne Thy felfe downe neuer looke to rife.

loh. I care not, I will be little fo in debt to you, that I will not owe you fo much as God a mercy for my life.

King. You (hall not then, (land not to ayme at

markes

Now roue not but make choyfe of one faire white Th'afl but one arrow to (hoote, and that's thy flight The Admirall knowes our pleafure. Exit.

loh. And Heauen knowes mine Left in mine enemies hand, are you my laylor ?

Val. No my Lord, I thinke Fme rather left

o 2

196 Match me in London.

To be your Confeflor.

loh. I need not any,

That you and I fhould both meet at one Ball, I being the ftronger, yet you giue the fall.

Vat. A kind of foot-ball flight, my Lord, men

vfe

Exceeding much at Court, your felfe has heard Little fhrimps haue thrown men higher then the

Guard ;

But barring this rough play, let's now confider, For what I Hay, and what you are to doe.

Joh. Doe what 1

VaL To die.

loh. And mud you play the Hangman.

VaL Breake in fellowes. Guard.

loh. 'Sdeath what are thefe ?

VaL Your Executioners appointed by the King.

loh. Thefe my Executioners, And you my ouer-feer, wherefore kneele they 1

VaL To beg your pardon, for they feare their

worke Will neuer pleafe you.

loh. What booke's that they hold This* is no time for Dedications.

VaL That booke is fent in Loue to you from the

King

It containes pictures of ftrange fundry deaths He bids you choofe the eafieft.

loh. Then I chufe this. Snatches a Halbert.

VaL Your choyce is ill made.

loh. I' me more forry Sir, I had rather haue my body hackt with wounds, Then t'haue a Hangman fillip me.

VaL My Lord pray pardon me I'me forct to what I doe, 'tis the Kings pleafure To haue you die in priuate.

loh. Any where

Since I mull downe, the King might let me fall From lofty Pinacles, to make my way

Match me in London. 197

Through an arm'd Feild, yet for all that, euen then Vnleffe I flew a kingdome full of men I fhould at lafl be pay'd home : blackeft fate Thy worfl, I heere dene thee, what the State Appoints 'tis welcome.

Vol. That's to haue your head. loh. 'Tis ready.

Vol. Hee'l be quiet when you are dead. Exeunt.

Enter Tormiella, Malevento, and Alphonfo.

Alph. Madam there's a fellow ftayes without to

fpeake with you. Tor. With me !

Enter Cordolente.

Alph. Your moo-maker I thinke.

Tor. Ha'ft brought my fhooes I

Cor. Yes Madam.

Tor. You drew them not on lafl.

Cor. ' No Madam, my Matter that feru'd you lafl has very good cuttome, and deales with other Ladies as well as you, but I haue fitted you before now, I mould know the length of your foote.

Tor. I doe not remember thee.

Cor. I'me forry you haue forgotten me.

Tor. What fhooe was the lafl you drew on ?

Cor. A yellow.

Tor. A yellow ! I neuer wore that cullor.

Cor. Yes Madam by that token when I fitted you firfl, you wore not your fhoes fo high i'th inflep, but me thinks you now go cleane awry.

Tor. A fault I cannot helpe, manie Ladies befides me go fo, I hope 'twill grow to a fafhion.

Mai. Has not that fellow done there ?

Cor. Yes fir, I haue now done, I haue a fuit to you Madam, that none may be your fhoo-maker but I.

198 Match me in London.

Tor. Thy Mailer thoii fayfl femes me, I fhould wrong him then.

Cor. Yet doe you me more wrong, oh my Tor-

miella !

Is the leafe torne out where our Loue was writ, That I am quite forgot !

Tor. Softly good fweet.

Cor. Oh miferie, I make my felfe a theefe, To fteale mine owne, another at my fire Sits whiles I make with cold, I fatten a flranger, And ftarue my felfe.

Tor. Danger throwes eyes vpon thee, Thus vifit me, watch time for my efcape To any Country, by thy dearefl fide He lackey all the world or'e, He not change Thee for a thoufand Kings ; there's gold.

Mai. Not yet done 1

Cor. Yes fir, I'me onely taking inflruclions to make her a lower Chopeene, (he finds fault that fhe's lifted too high.

Mai. The more foole fhee.

Enter lago.

lag. The King comes Madam, he enquires for you.

Enter King, Valafco, Gazetto, and others.

King. My brother lohn is gone then 1

Val. I ha beftow'd him as you commanded, in's graue.

King. Hee's beft there, Except the Gods, Kings loue none whom they

feare. How now !

Tor. My Shoo-maker.

King. Oh had thou fitted her, fo, hence fir.

Match me in London. 1 99

Cor. As a worme on my belly, what mould the

Ant,

On his poore Mole-hill braue the Elephant, No, Signior no, No braines to flay, but faues a head to goe. Exit.

King. Let me haue no more of this ; haue not we

eyes Pointed like Sun-beames, goe to, get you in.

Tor. Angell from Heauen, falne a Kings Concu bine. Fxit.

Enter Martines.

Mar. May it pleafe your Grace.

King. Ha !

Mar. Her Highneffe drown'd in forrow, that your

brow

Has beene fo long contracted into frownes, Wifhing to die vnleffe (he fee it fmooth'd, Commends her beft loue to you in this lewell The Image of her heart.

King. My Lord Admirall, my wife's growne kind, fee!

Val. One of the happiefl houres, Mine age e're numbred ; would your Highneffe now Would fetch vp the red blood her cheeks hath loft By fending her, fome fimbole of your loue.

King. Pray ftep your felfe vnto her, fay I locke My heart vp in your bofome to her vfe, and giue it her.

Val. He lend it in your name.

King. Doe.

Val. She mall pay her heart for it in intereft.

Exit.

King. He fee her anon.

Leaue vs, flay you, and fet that Table here. Exeunt. A chaire, none trouble vs, doe you ferue the Queene ?

Mar. Yes fir.

King. We know you now, y'are in our eye.

2OO Match me in London.

Are the doores fafl 1

Mar. They are Sir.

King. Nearer yet, Doe not you know of a confpiracie,

To take away my life vpon Saint turn,

No matter for the day, you know the plot Sir 1

Mar. By Heauen I know of none !

King. Blufhing doe you ftaine ?

Mar. It is not guilt but anger.

King. Y'aue all fixt

Your hands and Scales to an Indenture drawne By fuch a day to kiU me.

Mar. For my part

My Loyaltie like a rough Diamond mines The more 'tis cut, I haue no hand in that Or any bafenefle elfe againfl your Life Or Kingdome.

King. No !

Mar. None.

King. Fetch me Inke and Paper I foone (hall try that, come Sir write your name : Stay, your owne words (hall choake you, 'twas a letter Wrap'd vp in hidden Characters, and fent Inclos'd in a Pomgranet, to a great Don And thus fubfcrib'd : At your pleafure your obfequious

vaffaile. Write this, and then your name, here.

Mar. At your pleafure.

King. Thy hand makes.

Mar. No fir, Your obfequious Vaffaile.

King. Here fir, your name now there fo low it flood.

Mar. Martines Cazatta de Barameda.

King. There's in thy face no Traytor I cannot tell Good mouthes haue giuen thee to mee, on your life Be not you like a Wolfes-skin Drum to fright The whole Heard by your found, I will compare Your hand with this, that's all, but fir beware You prate to none of what 'twixt vs is paft.

Match me in London. 201

Mar. Were I i'th world aboue, I would defire To come from thence, to giue that man the lye, That once mould dare to blot my Loyalty.

King. Here take this Key, meet mee fome halfe houre hence i'th priuy Gallery with two naked Po niards.

Mar. Two ponyards. Exit.

Enter Gazetto.

King. Yes, goe fend fome body in, flay, Lupo Can you write ?

Gaz. Yes.

Xing. Indite a Letter 'sdeath fir heere begin

Gaz. After my heartie Commendations, fo fir.

King. How ! write My most admired Mi/Iris.

Gaz. Mired Miflris,

King. With the fire you firjl kindled in me,ftill I am burnt.

Gaz. Still I am burnt :

King. So that Thunder Jhall not hinder mee from climbing the higheft flep of the Ladder.

Gaz. Climbing the highejljlep of the Ladder.

King. Of your perfections, though I bee confounded for euer.

Gaz. Be confounded for euer.

King. Your high pleafures are mine, mine yours.

Gaz. Mine yours.

King. And I dye euerlajlingly vntill I bee in your bofome.

Gaz. And I dye vntill I be in your bofome.

King. So. •

Gaz. So.

King. Hold.

Gaz. Here fir.

King. Where are the Gentlemen of our Chamber 1

Gaz. Without Sir.

King. Bid them attend vs clofe.

Gaz. I mall. Exeunt.

2O2 Match me in London.

Enter Martines with two Poniards.

Mar. Would this dayes worke were done, I doe

not like

To fee a Bull to a wild Fig-tree ty'd To make him tame, beads licking 'gainft the hayre Fore-mew fome ftorme, and I fore-fee fome fnare : His fword is dipt in oyle, yet does it wound Deadly, yet ftand it, innocence wrong'd is crown'd.

Enter the King, Atyhonfo, and Gazetto.

Omn. Treafon !

King. Where ?

Omn. Kill the Villaine. All draw.

King. Stay, none touch him On your Hues; on Kings moulders ftand The heads of the Coloffie of the Goddes (Aboue the reach of Traitors) were the beds Of twenty thoufand Snakes layd in this bofome, There's thunder in our lookes to breake them all, Leaue vs.

Omn. You are too venturous. Exeunt.

King. loue cannot fall,

Both perfon place and bufmefle were quite loft Out of our mem one, lay afide thefe poniards We haue alter' d now our bufmeffe, you fhall beare fir

Our falutation to the Queene not feal'd !

'Sfoot, nor indors'd ! fome Inke, come let the fore head

Haue no more wrincles in't — but this, to the Queene, Write it.

Mar. To the Queene, no more !

King. No, no, 'tis well, Haft thou no Scale about thee ? if my wife Exceptions take miffing our royall fignet Say that not hauing that, I borrowed yours.

Mar. I mall Sir. Exit.

Match me in London. 203

Enter All.

King. Hide it, goe — without there.

Omn. Sir.

King. You met him did you not, how lookt the flaue?

Omn. Moft flrangely.

King. Vnparalel'd Villaine ! Diuels could not fet To hatch fuch fpitefull mifchiefe, guard me clofely, When you fee him at the flake then worry him, Are all weapon' d ?

Omn. All, all.

King. When Darts inuifible doe flye, A flaue may kill a Lyon in the eye. Exeunt.

Enter Queene, and Tormiella.

Qu. Who gaue you this ?

Tor. A Gentleman of your Chamber.

Enter Martines.

Qu. Call in the Villaine, Thou audatious Serpent !

How dar'fl thou wind in knotted curies thy luft About our honour ; where hadft thou this Letter 1

Mar. I had it from the King.

Qu. Out impudent Traytor.

Enter King, lago, Gazetto, Alphonfo.

King. How now at Barle-brake, who are in Hell ? What's that ? to the Queene, what Queene !

Qu. Me, 'tis to me

Your miflris there the Meffenger, her Secretary Hee heere.

King. -Yds death.

Qu. Your Trull and hee haue laid Traines to blow vp mine honour, I am betray'd.

2O4 Match me in London.

King. Lupo, Fatten her.

Qu. Faften mee !

King. lago fee.

Looke all, bind fail this Diuell, is there no Circle To be damn'd in but mine.

Qu. Slaue let me goe.

King. Oh thou luflfull harlot.

Qu. Guard me Heauen.

Mar. I'me fold.

Qu. Thou Villaine fpeake truth.

King. Keepe her off.

Mar. Moft bafely

Betray'd and baffled, is that Letter the fame Sent in to the Queene.

Tor. The very fame.

King. Is this thy hand ?

Mar. 'Tis fir, but heare me.

King. And this thy name, thy hand 1

Mar. My name, my hand.

Qu. Saue him and let him fpit His blackeft poyfon forth 1

King. Spare him, vnhand her.

Qu. Let me haue luftice as thou art a King !

King. To prifon with them both.

Qu. As I am thy wife Make not thy felfe a ftrompit of me.

King. Hence, guard her.

Qu. I come Heauen, guarded with innocence.

Exit.

King. Follow your Miflris, you.

Tor. Yes, to her graue. Oh that I now were fwallowed in fome Waue. Exit.

King. Oh that I

Should in a womans lap my Kingdome lay, Honour and life, and me mould all betray To a Groome, a flaue.

lag. Let not her poyfon run Too neare your heart.

King. lago I haue done,

Match me in London. 205

Pray let my greife want company, this wracke So great, (hall make th' whole Kingdome mourn in black. Exeunt.

Lupo \

Gaz. Did your Highneffe call !

King. Yes, harke thee Lupo : It may bee th'art a Serpent dull of fight, Be quicke of hearing, may be th'art a Hare, And canft fee fide-wayes, let me locke vp here, What euer's layd in there.

Gaz. I am flrongly charm'd.

King. Wilt venter for me 1

Gaz. To the threfhold of hell.

King. May I trufl thee 1

Gaz. Elfe imploy me not

King. Didft euer kill a Scorpion ?

Gaz. Neuer, I ha beene flung by one.

King. Didft neuer bait a wild Bull ^

Gaz. That's the paftime I moft loue and follow.

King. A ftrange difeafe Hangs on me, and our Doctors fay the bloud Onely of thefe two beafts muft doe me good, Dar'ft thou attempt to kill them ?

Gaz. Were they Diuels

With heads of Iron, and Clawes ioynted with brafle, Encounter them I mail, in what Parke run they 1

King. The Queene that Scorpion is, Tormiellas

husband

The mad Oxe broken loofe ; in a fmall volume What mifchiefe may be writ, in a maze !

Gaz. No, in a mufe, I'me plotting how to doe't, and to come off.

King. This does it, by this key burft vp all doores That can betray thee, done be fure to rife, Let a Kings royall breath, fend the hence flying.

Gaz. As Powder does the Bullet.

King. Heap'd vp honours Are fcedules to thine enterprife annext, Doe it and mount —

206 Match me in London.

Gaz. To th' Gallowes.

King. Thy felfe goes next. Exit.

Gaz. I fcorn to be thy bloud hound. Why fhould I vexe a Soule did neuer greeue me 1 The Queene an honeft Lady : fliould I kill her, It were as if I pull'd a Temple downe, And from the mines of that built vp a ftewes, She Hues, but Butcher like the Oxe He vfe. Exit.

ACTVS, V.

Enter Ring, Valafco, Malevento, Alphonfo.

Mai. Oh foyall Sir, my Daughter Tormiella Has loft her vfe of reafon and runne mad.

King. When !

Mai. Not halfe an houre fince.

King. Mad now ! now frantique ! When all my hopes are at the higheft pitch T'inioy her beauties ! talke no more : thou I/ft.

Enter Gazetto.

Gaz. May it pleafe your Maieftie —

King. Curfes confume thee oh Strikes.

Gaz. It is difpatch'd, the Queene is loft, neuer to be found.

King. Waue vpon Waue,

Hard hearted Furies, when will you dig my Graue : You doe not heare him, thunder makes Heauen firft Before dull Earth can feele it :

MatcJi me in London. 207

My deere, deareft Queene is dead.

Vol. Ha !

Omn. The Queene dead !

King. What faid Ihe laft !

Gaz. Commend me to the King And tell him this, mine honour is not wrack'd, Though his Loue bee.

King. And fo her heart-firings crackt !

Val. Some tricke vpon my life, State-coniuring To raife vp Diuels in Prifons, and i'th darke : If me be dead, He fee her.

King. Villanous man,

Thou fee what we haue inioy'd, thou impudent foole Away, I ago giue this tumbling Whale Empty barrels to play with till this troublous Seas (Which he more raging makes) good Heauen ap- peafe.

Val Well I fay nothing, Birds in Cages mourne At firfl, but at laft fing ; I will take my turne. Exit.

King. My Queene dead, I mall now haue riming

flaues

Libell vpon vs, giuing her innocent wings But fay we murdered her, fcandall dare ftrike Kings : Then here's another Moone of Spaine Eclips'd, One whom our befl lou'd Queene put in her bofome, For fweetneffe of pure life, integritie, And (in Court beauties wondrous) honefty, Shee's mad too, Lupo> Tormiellcts mad !

Gaz. Mad !

Ia%. As a March whore.

Gaz. Mad, mall I worke vpon her 1

King. Vfe thy skill. Exit Gazetto.

lag. I would to Heauen your highneffe —

King. Ha ! the Queene ! was me not at my elbow?

Omn. Here was nothing.

King. I mufl not Hue thus, logo if I lye After the kingly fafhion without a woman I mail run mad at midnight \ I will marry

208 Match me in London.

The Lunaticke Lady, (he mall be my Queene, Proclaime her fo.

lag. Your highneffe does but left !

King. All the world's franticke, mad with mad are befl. Exit.

lag. Wretched flate of Kings, that Handing hye, Their faults are markes mot at by euery eye. Exit.

Enter Tormiella, Malevento, Gazetto.

Gaz. Giue me the key, make all fafl, leaue us, He skrew her wits to the right place.

Mai. Apollo blefle thee. Exit.

Tor. Are not you a woollen Draper ?

Gaz. Yes.

Tor. Whether is a womans life meafured by the Ell or the Yard.

Gaz. All women by the Yard fure, it's no life elfe.

Tor. I'me now neare feuenteene yeares old, if I mould dye at thefe yeares, am not I a foole.

Gaz. Yes, marry are you, for the Law allowes none to be of difcretion, till they come to twenty one.

Tor. Out vpon you, you are a Lawyer, pray get you hence, for you'l not leaue me clothes to my backe if I keepe you company, I'me mad enough now, and you'l make me flarke mad.

Gaz. I am not what I feeme, no Doc~lor I But by your Husband fent in this difguife To found your bofome.

Tor. You bob for Eeles, doe you not ?

Gaz. Here has he lockt his mind vp, but for mee To put a burning linflocke in a hand That may giue fire, and fend my Soule in powder I know not, pardon me, fare you well Lady 1

Tor. Hift doe you heare 1

Gaz. The eyes of mercy guard thee

Match me in London. 209

Were't knowne for what I venter'd thus, 'twere death, lie, to your husband.

Tor. Stay, I am not mad Yet I haue caufe to raue, my wits like Bels Are backward rung, onely to fright the Tyrant That whilft his wild lufl wanders, I may flye To my fweet husbands armes, here I haue hid The traines I meane to lay for mine efcape.

Gaz. Excellent he mall fecond you.

Tor. Should any watch vs !

Gaz. All's fail, run mad agen then, the King

thinks

Me fome rare fellow, you mall leaue the Court Now if you'l tafle my Counfell.

Torm. He drinke gall to cure mee of this fick- neffe.

Gaz. Sit then downe here. He bind you fad becaufe it mail appeare, That you grow worfe and worfe, then will I tell The King, the onely courfe to leaue you well, Is to remoue you home to mine owne Lodging, He bind you.

Tor. For euer to thee.

Gaz. Once hence, you may flye, To th' Straights, and then croffe o're to Barbary : So, th'art a Strumpet

Tor. What's that you fpeake !

Gaz. A damn'd one, Doft thou not know me ! I am Gazetto.

Tor. Mercy.

Gaz. Who like a ball of wild-fire haue beene toil To make others fport, but here I burfl and kill : A periured Strumpet.

Tor. I am none,

My Father fwore that I mould marry thee, And then a Tyger and a Lambe had met, I ne're was thine, nor euer will be.

Gaz. Sweare thou art not mine, That when I fee thy heart drunke with hot oathes,

2io Match me in London.

This Feind may pitch thee reeling into Hell, Sweare that thou art not mine.

Tor. By heauen I am not,

To proue I fweare right to thee, change that weapon, See at my Girdle hang my wedding kniues, With thofe difpatch mee.

Gaz. To th'heart ?

Tor. Ayme right I befeech thee.

Gaz. He not kill thee now for fpight Becaufe thou begft it.

Tor. Then good villaine fpare me !

Gaz. Neither, heere's that mail fmke thee ; to the

King Thy iugling and thefe Letters (hall be fhowne.

Tor. Vpon thy head be my confufion The King ! I lhall both feed his rage and lufl, Firft doome me to any Tortures !

Gaz. Thou malt then fweare Vnbinds her.

Becaufe I know he'll force the tye a knot, The Church muft fee and figh at, if he marries thee, Sweare when he comes to touch thy naked fide, To bury him in thofe meets, thou art his Bride.

Tor. By Heauen that night's his laft, my iufl hart

keepes This vow grauen there.

Gaz. Till then my vengeance fleepes, Where is the King ?

Enter King, Sago, Alphonfo> Malevento.

Gaz. I haue refin'd That Chaos which confounded her faire mind.

Kin. Moue in thy voice the Spheares, when next

thou fpeakfl Tormiella. Tor. I am well my fearefull dreame Is vanifht, thankes to Heauen and that good man. King. Thou giu'fl me another Crowne, oh Vindi-

cados, The axletree on which my Kingdome moues,

Match me in London.

211

Leanes on thy moulders, I am all thine ; Tormidla \ Bright Cynthia looke not pale, Endimions heere, Hymen lhall fetch a leape from Heauen t'alight Full in thine armes, backe thou blacke ominous night.

Exeunt.

Enter Cordolente.

Cor. Signior Luflo, why Don, not know me, I am the poore Shopkeeper, whofe ware is taken vp by the King.

Gaz. You lye.

Cor. True, as Judges doe with their wiues, very feldome, I am Cordolente a poore Gudgin dining thus vnder water, to fee how Neptune and his Mermaides fwim together, but dare not come neare him, for feare he fets Dogfifh to deuoure me.

Gaz. An excellent maske againft the marriage, now get a priuate coat, the King meanes to haue you flab'd.

Cor. He does that already, with the bodkin that flicks in my wifes hayre.

Gaz. He has not the patience to flay the dreffing of his meat of thy prouiding, he will haue it taken vp, and eate the flefh raw he will be married inconti nently.

Cor. Will me fet her hands to my homes 1

Gaz. Yes, and fet them to your head, me followes the fleps of her old grandam, all euils take their names from her, the ills of Eue, thy wife for the hoope ring thou marriedft her withall, hath fworne to fend thee a Deathes head.

Cor. Sworne !

Gaz. Sworne, were thy cafe my cafe ; I would fet a Diuell at her elbow in the very Church, I would kill her as me gaue away her hand.

Cor. Wilt helpe me to a fit Circle to play the Diuell in ?

Gaz. He place thee, He put thy foot into the flirrup.

p 2

Match me in London.

Cor. And I will rid the world of one of his difeafes, a loofe woman.

Gaz. Farewell, eate her very hart. Exit.

Cor. As we feed one vpon another, hungerly

Exeunt.

Hoboyes : Enter two Fryers fetting out an Altar, Enter lago, Alphonfo, Gazetto, Malevento, two Churchmen, Tormiella next and the King, Ladies attending, Cordolente fteales in, and Jlands in fame by place the King Jlayes or jits in a chayre, Tor miella is brought to him, as /he is camming the King meets her ; as the ring is putting on, Cordo lente fteps in rudely, breakes them off, Tormiella flyes to his bofome, the King offers to Jlab him, is held : Jhe kneeles, fues, weepes, Cordolente is thruft out, Gazetto laughs at all, they are preparing to it againe, it Thunders and Lightens : all affrightedly Exeunt.

Enter Cordolente.

Cor. Doft thou tell me of thy Proclamations that I am banilht from the Court, that Court where I came to thee was none of thine, it belongs to a King that keepes open Court, one that neuer wrong'd a poore Begger, neuer tooke away any mans wife, vnleffe he fent his Purfeuant death for her : oh thou daring Sacri legious royall Theefe ; wilt thou rob the Church too as thou haft me ! thruft me out of that houfe too in the Sanctuary turn'd Diuell in a crowd of Angels !

Enter Gazetto.

Gaz. Why didft not kill her 1

Cor. I had no power to kill her Charmes of Diuinity pull'd backe mine Arme, She had Armor of proofe on, (reuerence of the place) She is not married, is (he, fhorten my paines ;

Match me in London. 2 1 3

Gaz. Heauen came it felfe downe, and forbade the Banes.

Enter lago.

lag. You muft both to th' King.

Gaz. Muft ! we are for him.

Cor. Now doe I looke for a fig.

Gaz. Chew none, feare nothing. Exeunt.

Flourt/h. Enter King, Tormiella^ Valafco^ Malevento, Alphonfo.

King. Has heauen left chiding yet ! there's in thy

voyce

A thunder that worfe frights mee, didft thou fweare In bed to kill me, had I married thee ?

Tor. It was my vow to doe fo.

King. And did that Villaine, That Lupo Vindicadds, thruft this vengeance Into thy defperate hand ?

Tor. That Villaine fwore me

To fpeed you, I had dy'd elfe ; me had he murdered, When in a Doctors fhape he came to cure The madnefle which in me was counterfeit, Onely to Ihun your touches.

King. Strange preferuation !

Enter lago, Gazetto, and Cordolente.

Val. Here comes the traytor I

King. Diuell, didft thou tempt this woman 'gainfl my life ?

Gaz. Has me betray'd me, yes, hence Anticke

vizors lie now appear my felfe.

Mai. Gazetto !

Gaz. The fame.

Cor. I ha warm'd a Snake in my bofome.

Mai. This is he, To whom by promife of my mouth, (not hers)

214 Match me in London.

Tormiella ftiould ha' beene married, but flying him To runne away with this, he in difguife Has followed Both thus long to be reueng'd.

Gaz. And were not my hands ty'd by your pre-

uention

It ftjpuld goe forward yet, my plot lay there (King) to haue her kill thee, this Cuckold her, Then had I made him Hawkes-meat.

Val. Bloudy Varlet.

King. Rare Prouidence, I thanke thee, what a

heape

Of mifchiefes haue I brought vpon my Kingdome, By one bafe Ac~t of luft, and my greateft horror Is that for her I made away my Queene By this deflroyers hand, this crimfon Hell-hound That laughes at nothing but frefh Villanies.

Gaz. The laughing dayes I wifht for, are now

come fir

I am glad that leaping into fuch a Gulph, 1 am not drown'd, your Queene Hues.

King. Ha !

Gaz. She Hues, I had no reafon to kill her.

VaL A better Spirit

Stood at his elbow, then you planted there, My poore Girle your fad Queene, breathes yet.

King. Long may me, Fetch her, commend me to her, cheere her (Father.)

Val. With the befl hart I haue. Exit.

King. Let that flye Bawd Engine of Hell, who wrought vpon thy Chaftity Be whipt though Siuill> foure fuch tempting witches May vndoe a City : come, you wronged paire By a King that parted you, you new married are. Inioy each other and profper.

Cor. I doe already,

Feeling more ioyes then on my Wedding day, I nere till now was married.

Tor. Nor I euer happy vntill this houre.

Mai. Nor I, as I am true Lord.

Match me in London. 215

King. No, fir, y'are no true Lord, you haue a title, A face of honour, as in Courts many haue, For bafe and feruile prollitutions, And you are fuch a one, your Daughters fall Was firft ftep to your rifmg, and her rifmg Againe to that fweet goodnefle fhe neuer went from, Muft be your fall, and ftrip you of all honours Your Lordlhip is departed.

Mai. Does the Bell ring out ! I care not Your Kingdome was a departing too, I had a place in Court for nothing, and if it be gon, I can loofe nothing ; I ha' beene like a Lord in a play, and that done, my part ends.

King. Yes fir, I purge my Court of fuch Infection.

Mai. I mail find company i'th City I warrant ; I am not the firft hath giuen vp my Cloake of honour.

Exit.

Enter Valafco, lohn, and Queene.

King. Oh my abufed heart, thy pardon, fee I haue fent home my flolne goods :

Qu. Honeflly !

King. As (he was euer ; now with full cleere eyes I fee thy beauty, and ilrange Cheekes defpife.

Qu. You call me from a graue of fhame and

forrow. In which I lay deepe buried.

loh. From a graue likewife Your Maieftie calls me ! I haue lookt backe On all my poore Ambitions, and am forry, That I fell euer from fo bright a Spheare, As is the Loue of fuch a royall brother.

King. Be as you fpeake, we are .friends, it was

our will To let you know, we can, or faue, or kill.

loh. Your mercy new transformes me.

King. Sirrah your fauing

My Queene, when I confeffe (luft me fo blinded) I would haue gladly loft her ; giues thee life.

216 Match me in London.

Qu. Firft I thanke Heauen, then him, and at laft you.

Gaz. I had not the heart to hurt a woman, if I had, your little face had beene mall'd ere this, but my Angers out, forgiue me.

Tor. With all my heart.

King. Pray noble brother loue this man, he's

honeft,

I ha' made of him good proofe, we mould haue had A wedding, but Heauen frown'd at it, and I Am glad 'tis croft, yet we'll both Feaft and dance, Our Fame hath all this while laine in a Trance : Come Tormiella, well were that City bleft, That with but, Two fuch women mould excell, But there's fo few good, th'aft no ParalelL Exeunt.

FINIS.

THE

WONDER

OF

A Kingdome.

Quod non Dantproceres, Dabit Hiftrio. Written by THOMAS DEKKER.

L OND ON:

Printed by Robert Raworth, for Nicholas Vavafour ; and are

to bee fold at his Shop in the Inner Temple, neere the

Church-doore. 1636.

fr'*W' \'fc^?m&&?vw •:-^^t~± P:/V ^Jp^^^P^%%

The Prologue.

IHusfrom the Poet, #w /&# to fay \ Hee knows what fudges fit to Doome each Play, Over-curious Critick, or the Wife) ^The one with f quint; 'Tot her with Sunn-like eyes, Shootes through each fc&ne \ The one cries all things

down Tother, hides ftr angers Faults, clofe as his Owne.

Las ! Thofe that out of cujlome come to jeer e, (Sung the f till quire of the Nine Mufes heere) So Carping, Not from Wit, but Apijhfpite, And Fether'd Ignorance, Thus ! our Poet does flight.

'Tts not a gay fute, or Distorted Face, Can beate his Merit off, Which has won Grace In the full Theater ; Nor can now fear e The Teeth of any Snaky whifperer ; But to the white, andfweete unclowded Brow, ( The heaven where true worth moves) our Poet dds bow :

Patrons of Arts, and Pilots to the Stage, Who guide it (through all Tempejls] from the Rage Of envious Whirlewindes, 6, doe you butjleere His Mufe, This day ; And bring her totK wijhed

Jhore, You are thofe Delphick Powers whomjhedle adore.

Dramatis Perfonce.

Mutio.

Philippe. rCourtiers.

Piero the Dukes Sonne. Gafparo his Friend. Tibaldo Neri, Lover of Dariene Z. Vanni's wife. Angelo Lotti, Lover of

Fiametta. Baptifta, his friend.

Duke of Florence. Prince of Pifa. Lord Vanni. Trebatio his Sonne.

Tornelli. >

lacomo Gentili, The Noble Houfe-keeper.

Signior Torrenti, The Riotous Lord.

Fiametta, the Dukes Daughter,

Dariene, Old Lord Vannies Wife.

Alifandra, her Daughter.

Alphonfma, fifter to Tibaldo Neri. Cargo, Lord Vanni's man. Two Curtizans. A Nurfe.

THE

WONDER

OF

A Kingdome.

A6lus primus. Scaena prima.

Enter Duke of Florence, Prince of Pifa, Nicoletto Vanni, Trebatio his fonne, Mutio, Philippo, Tor- nelli, Gallants, Tibaldo Neri, Alphonfina hisfifier, Dariene Old Vannies wife, Cargo afervin$-man.

[|Ee furfit heere on Pleafures : Seas nor Land Cannot invite us to a Feaft more glorious, Then this day we have fat at : my Lord

Vanni,

You have an excellent feate heere ; Tis a building May entertaine a Ccefar : but you and I Should rather talke of Tombs, then Pallaces, Let's leave all to our heires, for we are old.

Nico. Old ! hem ? all heart of braffe. found as a bell,

222 The Wonder of a Kingdome.

Old ? why, He tell your Graces ; I have gone But halfe the bridge ore yet ; there lies before me As much as I have paff'd, and I'le goe it all.

Flo. Mad Vanmftill.

NIC. Old Oakes doe not eafily fall : Decembers cold hand combes my head and beard, But May fwimmes in my blood, and he that walkes Without his wooden third legge, is never old.

Pija. What is your age my Lord ?

Nic. Age, what call you age 1 I have liv'd fome halfe a day, fome halfe an houre.

Flo. A tree of threefcore-yeares growth, nothing ?

Tib. A meere flip, you have kept good diet my lord.

Nic. Let whores keepe diet, Tibaldo ner'e ; never did Rivers runn In wilder, madder flreames, then I have done, I'le drinke as hard yet as an Englifhman.

Flo. And they are now bell Drinkers.

Pifa. They put downe the Dutch-men cleane.

Nic. He yet upon a wager hit any fencers button.

Car. Some of 'em ha' no buttons to their doublets Sir.

Nic. Then knave, He hit his flefti, and hit your

cockfcombe, If you croffe mine once more.

Flo. Nay be not angry.

Nic. I have my Paffees Sir : and my Paffadoes, My Longes, my Stockadoes, Imbrocadoes, And all my Pimtoes, and Pimtillioes, Here at my fingers end.

Flo. By my faith 'tis well.

Nic. Old? why I ne're tooke Phificke, nor ever

will,

I'le truft none that have Art, and leave to kill : Now for that chopping herbe of hell Tobacco ; The i dle-mans-Devill, and the Drunkards-whore, I never medled with her ; my fmoake goes, Out at my kitchin chimney, not my nofe.

The Wonder of a Kingdome. 223

Flo. And fome Lords have no chimnies but their nofes.

Nic. Tobacco-fhopps (hew like prifons in hell ; Hote, fmoaky, {linking, and I hate the fmell.

Pif. Who'd thinke that in a coale fo Amy white, Such fire were glowing ?

Flo. May not a fnuffe give light t

Tib. You fee it doe's in him.

Alph. A withered-tree, doth oft beare branches.

Nic. What thinke you then of me — fweete Lady ?

Alph. Troth my Lord as of a horfe, vilely, if he

can Neither wihy, nor wagge-Taile.

Flo. The Lady Alphonfma Neri, has given it you my Lord.

Nic. The time may come I may give it her too.

Flo. I doubt Lord Vanni, me will cracke no Nutts, With fuch a tough fliell, as is yours and mine. But leaving this, lets fee you pray at Court.

Nico. I thanke your grace.

Flo. Your wife, and your faire daughter, One of the flars of Florence, with your fonne, Heire to your worth and Honours, Trebatio Vanni.

Treb. I mail attend your grace.

Flo. The holy knot,

Hymen mail Ihortly tie, and in faire bands, Vnite Florence and Pi fa by the hands, Of Fyametta and this Pif an Duke (Our Noble-fon in law) and at this daie, Pray be not abfent.

Nic. We mall your will obey.

Flo. We heare there is a gallant that out-vies Vs, and our court for bravery, of expence, For royall feafls, triumphs, and revellings.

Nic. He's my neere kinfman, mine owne brothers

fon,

Who defperately a prodigall race doth runne, And for this riotous humour, he has the by-name, Signior Torrenti, a fwift Head-long flreame.

224 The Wonder of a Kingdome.

Flo. But ther's another layes on more then he.

NIC. Old lacomo ? open-handed charitie, Sit's ever at his gates to welcome guefts. He makes no bone-fires, as my riotous kinfman, And yet his chimneis cafl out braver fmoake. The Bellows which he blowes with, are good deeds, The rich he fmiles upon, the poore he feeds.

Flo. Thefe gallants we'le be feafled by, and Feaft Fames praifes of 'em, mail make us their gueft, Meane time we'le hence. Exit Florence, Pifa, &c

Enter Cargo.

Car. I have News to tell your Lordfhip, Signior Angelo (of the Lotti Family] is banifhed.

Dari. How banim't ? alas poore Angelo Lotti.

Treb. Why mufl he goe from Florence ?

Cargo. Becaufe he can flay there no longer.

Nic. To what end is he driven from the Citie ?

Cargo. To the end he mould goe into fome other my Lord.

Nic. Hoida.

Car. I hope this is newes Sir.

Nic. What fpeake the people of him ?

Car. As bells ring j fome out, fome in, all jangle, they fay he has dealt with the Genoway againfl the flate : but whether with the' men, or the women ; tis to be flood upon.

Nic. Away Sir knave and foole.

Car. Sir knave, a new word : fooles, and knaves Sir 1 Exit.

Nic. This muttering long agoe flew to mine eare, The Genoway is but a line throwne out, But Fiametta's love, the net that choakes him.

Tre. He's worthy of her equall.

Nic. Peace foolifh boy,

At thefe flate bone-fires (whofe flames reach fo high) To fland aloofe, is fafer then too nigh. Exit.

The Wonder of a Kingdome. 225

Enter Tibaldo Neri, and Alphonfina.

Alp. Why brother, what's the matter ?

Tib. I'me ill, exceeding ill.

Alp. That's not well.

Tib. Sure I did furfet at Lord Vannies.

Alp. Surfet? you eate fome Meate againft your ftomack.

Tib. No, but I had a ftomack to one dim, and the not tafling it, makes me fick at heart.

Alp. Was it fifh or fleih ?

Tib. Flefh fure, if I hit the marke right.

Alp. I'ft not the mifsing of a marke (which you

long to hit) Makes you draw fighes in flead of arrowes ?

Tib. Would I had beene a thoufand leagues from

thence,

When I fat downe at's table, or bin partner With Angela Lotti in his banilhment ; Oh ! fitter Alphonfina, there I dranke My bane, the ftrongeft poifon that e're man Drew from a Ladies eye, now fwelling in me.

Alp. By catting of thy water then, I gueffe thou

would'ft Have a medcine for the greene-ficknes.

Tib. 'Tis a greene wound indeed.

Alp. Tent it, tent it, and keepe it from ranckling,

you are Over head and eares in love.

Tib. I am, and with fuch mortall Arrowes pierc't I mall fall downe

Alp. There's no hurt in that.

Tib. And dye unleffe her pitty Send me a quicke and fweete recovery.

Alp. And faith what doctreffe is me mutt call you patient ?

Tib. Faire Dariene, the Lord Vannies wife

Alp. How ! Dariene ? can no feather fit you but the broach in an

226 The Wonder of a Kingdome.

Old mans hatt ? were there fo many dainty dimes To fill your belly, and mud you needs long for that

dim The matter of the houfe fetts up for his owne tooth.

Tib. Could love be like a fubje<5l, tied to lawes, Then might you fpeake this language.

Alp. Love 1 a difeafe as common with young gallants

as

Swaggering and drinking Tobacco, there's not one Of 'urn all but will to day ly drawing on for a Woman, as if they were puffing and blowing at a

ftreight boot,

And to morrow be ready to knock at deathes doore, But I wo'd faine fee one of you enter and fet in His ftaffe.

Tib. You mail fee me then do fo.

Alp. I (hall looke fo old firfl, I mall be taken for thy grandame \ come, come 'tis but a worme betweene the skinne And the flefh, and to be taken out with the point

of a

Waiting-womans. needle, as well as a great Counteffes.

Tib. If this be all the comfort you will lend me, Would you might leave me

Alp. Leave thee in ficknes ? I had more need give thee a Caudle ; and thruft thy adle-head into a night-Capp, for looke you brother

Tib. Even what you will mutt out.

Alp. If what you will might fo too, then would

you be in

Tune : I warrant, if the fucket flood here before Thee, thy ttomack would goe againtt.

Tib. Yes fure my ftomack would goe againft it : 'Tis onely that which breeds in me defpaire.

Alp. Defpaire for a woman ? they hang about

mens Neckes in fome places thicker then hops upon poles.

The Wonder of a Kingdome, 227

Tib. Her walls of chaftitie cannot be beaten downe.

Alp. Walls of chaftitie 1 walls of wafer-cakes, I

have

Knowne a woman carry a fether-bed, and a man in't In her minde, when in the ftreete me caft up the

white of Her eye like a Puritane.

Tib. Sifter you do but ftretch me on the racke And with a laughing cheeke increafe my paine, Be rather pitifull and eafe my torments By teaching me how in this dreadfull ftorme, I may efcape fhip-wrack and attaine that more Where I may live, heere elfe I'me fure to die.

Alp. Well brother, fince you will needs faile by

fuch a Starre as I mail point out, looke you heere it is ; if

me were

Your Fether-makers, Taylors or Barbers wife, Baite a hooke with gold, and with it

Tib. I do conjure you by that noble blood Which makes me call you fifter, ceafe to powre Poifon into a wound, fo neere my heart, And if to cure Loves-paines there be an Art. Woman me thinkes mould know it caufe me breeds it.

Alp. That cunning woman you take me to be, and

becaufe I fee you diffemble not, heer's my medcine.

Tib. I mail for ever thanke you.

Alp. Firft fend for your Barber.

Tib. For heavens fake.

Alp. Your Barber mall not come to rob you of

your beard ; I'le deale in no concealements

Tib. Oh ! fie, fie, fie.

Alp. But let him by rubbing of you quicken Your fpirits.

Tib. So fo.

Q2

228 The Wonder of a King dome.

Alp. Then whittle your gold-finches (your gallants) to yourfift.

Tib. Y'ar mad, y'ar mad.

Alp. Into a Tauerne, Drinke ftiffe, fweare ftiffe, have your muficke, and your brace, dance, and whiffe Tobacco, Till all fmoake Agen, and fplit Sir.

Tib. You fplit my very heart in pieces.

Alp. And doe thus, but till the Moone cutts off her homes ; Laugh in the day, and fleepe in the night : and this wenching fier will be burnt out of you.

Tib. Away, away, cruell you are to kill, When to give life, you have both power and skill.

Exit.

Alp. Alas : poore brother now I pitty thee, and

wo'd doe

Any thing to helpe thee to thy longing, but that a Gap muft be broken, in another mans hedge to rob His orchard, within there Luca Angelo, give him Mufick :

Muficke has helpt fome mad-men, let it then Charme him, Love makes fooles of the wifefl men.

Exit.

Enter at one doore, Angela Lotti, and Baptifta, at the other y Piero, and Iqfpero.

Pier. Yonders that villaine, keepe off lafpero : This prey I'le ceafe. All draw.

lafp. Be more advifed Sir.

Bap. At whofe life (hoote you ?

Pier. At that flaves there.

Ang. Slave ? I know you for the Dukes fonne, but I know no caufe of quarrell, or this bafe reproach.

Pier. Thou art a villaine.

Ang. Wherein ?

Pier. And by witch-craft, Had flole my fitter Fiamettas heart, Forceing her leave a Prince his bed for thine.

The Wonder of a Kingdome. 229

Ang. If for her love you come to kill me ; heere I'le point you to a doore where you may enter and fetch out a loath'd life.

Pier. lafpero.

lafp. Oh my Lord.

Ang. Let him come, I ow her all ; And that debt will I pay her gladly.

lafp. Deare Sir heare him »

Aug. But if on any other fier of rage ; You thirft to drinke my blood, heere I dene You, and your malice, and returne the villaine Into your throate.

Pier. So brave fir ! Change a thruft or two.

Enter Nicolletto, and Cargo.

Nico. I charge you in the Dukes name, keepe the

peace ; Beate downe their weapons, knock 'em downe

Cargo. Car. I have a luftices warrant to apprehend your

weapons ; Therefore I charge you deliver.

Nico. Oh my Lord : make a fray in an open

flreete 1 tis to

Make a bon-fire to draw children and fooles Together ; Signior Angelo, pray be wife, and be gon. Ang. I doe but guard my life (my Lord) from

danger.

Bapt. Sir, you doe exercife your violence Vpon a man, ftab'd to the heart with wounds ; You fee him finking, and you fet your foote Vpon his head, to kill him with two deathes ; Trample not thus on a poore banim'd man.

Nico. If hee be banilh'd, why dwells hee i'th

houfe, whofe

Tiles are pull'd downe over his head ? You mufl hunt

230 The Wonder of a Kingdome.

No more in this Parke of Florence ; why then Doe you lie fneaking heere, to fteale venifon ?

Ang.^ My Lords, I take my laft leave of you all ; Of love, and fortunes

Bapt. Lower thou canft not fall. Exit.

lafp. Trufl mee, my Lord, This Lotli is a man, (Setting afide his rivall-mip in love, For which you hate him) fo abundant rich In all the Vertues of a Gentle-man, That had you read their file, as I haue done, You would not onely fall in love with him, And hold him worthy of a Princefle bed, But grieve, that for a woman, fuch a man Should fo much fuffer ; in being fo put downe, Never to rife againe. * Nicol. A terrible cafe, i'de not be in't for all Florence.

Pie. Troth deare friend, The praifes which have crown' d him with thy ludge-

ment,

Make mee to caft on him an open eye, Which was before fhut, and I pittie him.

lafp. I never heard 'mongft all your Romane fpirits. That any held fo bravely up his head, In fuch a fea of troubles (that come rowling One on anothers necke) as Lotti doth, Hee puts the fpite of Fortune to difgrace, And makes her, when mee frownes worft, turne her face.

Pier. No more : I love him, and for all the Duke- dome,

Would not have cut fo Noble a fpreading Vine, To draw from it one drop of blood ; Lord Vanni, I thanke you that you cur'd our wounded peace, So fare you well. Exit.

Nico. A good health to you both.

lafp. You play the Conftable wifely.

Carg. And I his Beadle, I hope as wifely.

Nico. The Conftable wifely ; Cargo he calls me

foole by craft, But let 'em paffe.

The Wonder of a Kingdome. 231

Carg. As Gentle-men doe by Creditors (muffled).

Nico. I haue another cafe to handle : thou know'fl the Donna Alphonfina, of the Neri Familie.

Carg. The little Paraquinto that was heere when

the Duke

Was feafled, fhee had quick-filver in her mouth, for Her tongue, like a Bride the firfl night, never lay ftill.

Nico. The fame Afpen-leafe, the fame ; is't not a

Galley for The Great Turke to be row'd in ?

Carg. I thinke my Lord, in calme weather, fhee

may fet upon A Gally-aff bigge as your Lordfhip.

Nico. Commend me to this Angelica.

Carg. Angelica-\f&teT is good for a cold ftomach.

Nico. I am all fire.

Carg. Shee's a cooler.

Nico. Would 'twere come to that.

Carg. A fmall thing does it my Lord; in the

time a Flemming drinkes a Flap-dragon.

Nico. Give her this paper, and this ; in the one me may know my minde, in the other, feele me : this a Letter, this a lewell : Tell her, I kiffe the little white naile of her little

white

Finger, of her more little white hand, of her mod Little white bodie.

Carg. Her tell-tale, for all this will I bee.

Nico. Thou haft beene my weavers fhuttle to runne betwixt me and my ftuffes of Procreandi caufa.

Carg. A fuite of Stand-farther-off, had bin better fometimes.

Nico. No Cargo, I have flill the Lapis mirabilis, be thou clofe —

Carg, As my Ladies Chamber-maide.

Nico. Away then, nay quick knave, thou rack'ft mee. Exit.

232 The Wonder of a Kingdome.

Carg. I goe to ftretch you to your full length.

Exit.

Enter locomo Gentili, in a fuite of gray, Velvet- gowne, Cap, Chaine, Steward, and Serving-men^ Mutio, Philippo, Tornelli, Montinello.

Gent. Happy be your arivall, Noble friends ; You are the firft, that like to Doves repaire To my new building : you are my firft-borne guefls, My eldeft fonnes of hofpitalitie ; Here's to my hearty wellcomes.

Mutio. Worthy Lord, In one word, and the word of one, for all, Our thankes are as your welcomes, Infinite.

Phil. Rome in her Auncient pride, never rais'd up A worke of greater wonder, then this building.

Gent. 'Tis finim'd, and the cofl flands on no

fcore,

None can for want of payment, at my doore, Curfe my foundation, praying the roofe may fall On the proud builders head, feeing the fmoake goe Out of thofe Chimneys, for whofe bricks I owe.

Tor. To erect a frame fo glorious, large, and hie, Would draw a very fea of filver drie.

Mont. My Lord locomo Gentili, pray tell us, How much money have you buried under this kingly building ?

Gent. Pray call it not fo : The humble mrub, no Cedar heere mail grow ; You fee Three hundred Dorick pillars ftand About one fquare, Three hundred Noble friends Lay'd (in their loves) at raifing of thofe Columnes, A piece of gold under each Pedeftall, With his name grav'd upon the bottome ftone, Except that cofl, all other was mine owne ; See heere, each dayes expences are fo great, They make a volume, for in this appeares, It was no taske of weekes, or moneths, but yeares :

The Wonder of a Kingdome. 233

I truft my fteward onely with the key, Which keepes that fecret ; heere's Arithmetick For churles to call up, there's the roote of all ; If you have skill in numbers, number that.

Mont. Good Mr. Steward read it.

Stew. All the charge In the groffe fumme, amounteth to

Gent. To what % Thou vaine vaine-glorious foole, goe burne that

Booke,

No Herald needs to blazon Charities Armes ; Goe burne it prefently,

Stew. Burne it ? Exit.

Gent. Away,

I lanch not forth a fhip, with drums and gunnes, And Trumpets, to proclaime my gallantry ; He that will reade the wafting of my gold, Shall find it writ in ames, which the winde Will fcatter ere he fpends it ; Another day, The wheele may turne, and I that built thus high, May by the flormes of want, be driven to dwell In a thatch' t Cottage ; Rancor mail not then Spit poyfon at me, pinning on my backe This card ; He that fpent thus much, now does lack.

Mont. Why to your houfe adde you fo many gates ?

Gent. My gates fill up the number of feuen dayes, At which, of guefts, feven feverall forts He welcome : On Munday, Knights whofe fortunes are funke low; On Tuefday, thofe that all their life-long read The huge voluminous wonders of the deepe, Sea-men (I meane) and fo on other dayes, Others fliall take their turnes.

Phi. Why have you then built twelue fuch vafle roomes.

Gent. For the yeares twelve moones ; In each of which, twelue Tables fliall be fpread ; At them, fuch whom the world fcornes, (hall be fed, The windowes of my building, which each morne,

234 The Wonder of a Kingdome.

Are Porters, to let in mans comfort (light) Are numbred juil three hundred fixtie five, And in fo many daies the funne does drive His chariot (luck with beames of Burnim't gold, My Almes (hall fuch diurnall progreffe make As doe's the funne in his bright Zodiack.

Tor. You differ from the guife of other lands, Where Lords lay all their livings on the racke, Not fpending it in bread, but on the backe.

Gent. Such Lords eate men, but men mall eate up

me,

My uncle the Lord Abbot had a foule Subtile and quick, and fearching as the fier, By Magicke-ftayers he went as deepe as hell, And if in devills poffefsion gold be kept, He brought fome fure from thence, 'tis hid in caves Knowne (fave to me) to none, and like a fpring The more tis drawne, the more it flill doth rife, The more my heape waftes, more it multiplies. Now whither (as mofl rich-men doe) he pawn'd His foule for that deare purchafe none can tell, But by his bed-fide when he faw death fland Fetching a deepe groan e, me he catch' t by th' hand Cal'd me his heire, and charg'd me well to fpend What he had got ill, deale (quoth he) a doale Which round (with good mens prayers) may guard my

foule

Now at her fetting forth ; let none feele want That knock but at thy gates : do wrong to none, And what requeft to thee fo ear is made, If honefl, fee it never be denay'd.

Mont. And yow'le performe all this ?

Gent. Faire & upright, As are the ftricl vowes of an Anchorite : A benefit given by a Niggards hand Is flale and gravily bread, the hunger-flerv'd Takes it, but cannot eate it ; He give none fuch. Who with free heart makes out but crums, gives much.

Mont. In fuch a (hip of worldly cares my Lord

The Wonder of a Kingdome. 235

As you muft faile now in, yow'le need more Pilots Then your owne felfe to fit and fteare the Helme. You might doe therefore well to take a wife ;

Gent. A wife ? when I mall have one hand in

heaven,

To write my happineffe in leaves of flarres ; A wife wo'd plucke me by the other downe : ThisjiBarke hath thus long fail'd about the world, My foule the Pilot, and yet never liften'd To fuch a Mare-maids fong : a wife, oh fetters, To mans bleft liberty ! All this world's a prifon, Heaven the high wall about it, fin the jalour, But the iron-fhackles waying down our heeles, Are onely women, thofe light Angells turne us, To flefhly devills, I that Sex admire, But never will fit neere their wanton fier.

Mut. Who then (hall reape the golden corne you

fowe? Phi. 'Tis halfe a curfe to them, that build, and

fpare,

And hoard up wealth, yet cannot name an heire. Gent. My heires mall be poore children fed on

almes, Souldiers that want limbes, fchollers poore and

fcorn'd.

And thefe will be a fure inheritance ; Not to decay : Mannors and Townes will fall, Lord-fhips and Parkes, Paftures and woods be fold, But this Land flill continues to the Lord : No fubtile trickes of law, can me beguile of this. But of the beggers-difhe, I mall drinke healthes To laft for ever ; whir ft I live, my roofe Shall cover naked wretches ; when I die, 'Tis dedicated to St. Charitie.

Mut. The Duke inform'd, what trees of goodneffe

grow

Here of your planting, in true loue to your virtues ; Sent us to give you thankes, for crowning Florence With fame of fuch a fubjedl, and entreats you

236 The Wonder of a Kingdome.

(Vntill he come himfelfe) to accept this token, Of his faire wifhes towards you.

Gent. Pray returne

My duty to the Duke, tell him I value his love Beyond all Jewells in the world.

Phi. H'as vow'd ere long to be your vifitant.

Gent. He (hall be welcome when he comes, that's

all; Not to a Pallace, but my hofpitall.

Omnes. Wee'le leave your Lordftrip.

Gent. My bell thoughts goe with you : My Steward ?

Enter Steward, and afooltfh Gentle-man.

Stew. Heere my Lord.

Gent. Is the Booke fired ?

Stew. As you commanded Sir, I faw it burn'd.

Gent. Keep fafe that lewell, and leave me ; letters ! from whome 1

Buz. Signior leronimo Guydanes.

Gent. Oh fir, I know the bufmeffe : yes, yes, 'tis

the fame ;

Guidanes lives amongfl my bofome friends : He writes to have me entertaine you fir.

Buz. That's the bough, my bolt flies at, my Lord.

Gent. What Qualities are you furnifh't with %

Bnz. My Education has bin like a Gentle-man.

Gent. Have you any skill in fong, or Inftrument 1

Buz. As a Gentleman fhoo'd have> I know all, but play on none : I am no Barber.

Gent. Barber ! no fir, I thinke it ; Are you a Lin- guifU

Buz. As a Gentleman ought to be, one tongue ferues one head ; I am no Pedler, to travell Coun tries.

Gent. What skill ha' you in horfeman-fhip ?

Buz. As other Gentlemen have, I ha' rid fome beads in my Time.

The Wonder of a Kingdome. 237

Gent. Can you write and reade then ?

Buz. As moll of your Gentle-men doe ; my band

has bin Taken with my marke at it.

Gent. I fee you are a dealer, give me thy hand, He entertaine thee howfoeuer, becaufe in thee I keepe halfe a fcore Gentlemen ; thy name.

Buz. Afmius Buzardo

Gent. I entertaine thee, good Buzardo.

Buz. Thankes fir.

Gent. This fellow's a ftarke foole, or too wife, The triall will be with what wing he flies. Exit.

Afais fecundus. Sccena prima,

Enter Tibaldo ficke in his chair e, Alphonfina, Mutio, Philippo, Tornelli, Montivello.

Mut. T N Lawes of courtefie, wee are bound fweete

I Lady,

(Being thus nigh) to fee you and your brother, Our noble friend, tho' the Duke had not fent.

Alp. Thankes worthy fir.

Phil. Signior Tibaldo hath defire to fleepe.

Tor. Then leave him, Companie offends the ficke.

Alp. Our humblefl dutie to my Lord the Duke ; If in my Brothers name, and mine, you tender For this his noble love, wee both mall reft Highly indebted to you all.

Mut. Sweete Madam, You mall command our lives to worke your good.

238 The Wonder of a Kingdome.

Alp. Signior, your love.

Omnes. All at your fervice Madam,

Mut. A quick, and good health to your noble Brother.

Alp. And all faire fortunes doubled on your felfe.

Exit.

So: me thinkes a Lady had more need have a new paire of lips, then a new paire of gloves, for tho' they were both of one skinne, yet one would weare out fooner then the other; I thinke thefe Courtiers have al offices in the Spicerie. And taking my lips for fweet-meates, are as fawcie with 'em as if they were Fees ; I wonder Tibaldo thou can'ft fit flill, and not come in for a mare ; If old Vannfs wife had beene heere, all the parts about you had mov'd.

Tib. Thou think' ft I lie in, heere's fuch a gofliping, as if 'twere a Child-bed Chamber.

Alp. So 'tis, for He fweare, all this ftirre is about having a woman brought to bed ; marry I doubt it mufl be a mans lying in.

Tib. I would thy tongue were a man then, to lie.

Alp. I had rather it were a woman, to tell trueth.

Tib. Good fitter Alphonfina, you ftill play The bad Phificion, I am all on fire, And you to quench mee, powre on fcoopes of oyle ; I feele ten thoufand plummets at my heart, Yet you cry, Lay on more, and are more cruell Then all my tortures.

Alp. Sadneffe, I pittie thee, And will to doe thee fervice venture life, Mine honour being kept fpotleffe.

Tib. Gentle fitter,

The eafieft thing ith' world to begge, I crave, And the pooreft Almes to give.

Alp. But aske and have.

Tib. A friendly counfell, loe that's all.

Alp. 'Tis yours.

Be rul'd by me then ; in an afhie fheete, Cover thefe glowing embers of defire.

The Wonder of a Kingdome. 239

Tib. Embers ? I wo'd you felt em, 'tis a fire—

Alp. Come, and fet hand to paper, He indite.

Tib. And fhee'le condemne me ; no, I will not write.

Alp. Then prethee take this Phifick ; be not the fea, to drinke ftrange Rivers up, yet ftill be drie ; Be like a noble ilreame, covet to runne betwixt faire bankes, which thou may'ft call thine owne, and let thofe bankes be fome faire Ladies armes, fit for thy youth, and birth.

Tib. Againft your charmes, Witch, thus I flop mine eares.

Alp. He hollow them ; this Deere runnes in my

Lords Parke,

And if you fteale it, looke to have Blood-hounds fcent you.

Tib. Are you mad ?

Alp. Yes, you mall finde venifon-fawce deerer then other flefh.

Tib. No, no, none elfe muft, none mall, none can, My hunger feede but this ; downe will I dive, And fetch this Pearle, or nere come up alive

Alp. Are all my warme cawdles come to this 1 now I fee th'art too farre gone, this Lady hath over- fpent thee ; therefore fettle thine eftate, plucke up a good heart, and He pen thy will,

Tib, Oh fie, fie.

Alp. Bequeath thy kiffes to fome Taylor, that hunts out weddings every funday ; Item, Thy fighes to a noyfe of fidlers ill paid, thy paleneffe to a Fencer fighting at Iharpe, thy want of ftomack to one of the Dukes guard.

Tib. I begge it at thy hands, that being a woman, thoul't make a wonder.

Enter Cargo.

Alp. What's that? Tib. Hold thy tongue.

240 The Wonder of a Kingdome.

Alp. It's an Inftrument ever plaid on, caufe well

fining,

Who's that come into the Chamber there 1 Oh, Mr. Cargo.

Carg. My Lord hath fent you a lewell lock't up in this paper, and the moifture of a goofe quill, that's to fay, words in that

Alp. Oh fir, I thanke your Lord, and this your

paines ; have him into the Buttery let me fee,

Lady, that I love you, I dare fweare like a Lord (I fhall have oathes enough then) I fend you all that is mine, in hopes all (hall bee mine that is yours, for it ftands to reafon, that mine being yours, yours mould bee mine, and yours being mine, mine mould be yours. Love me, or I die, If I die, you kill me, If you kill me, I will fay nothing, but take the blow patiently. I hold my life this Lord has bin baftina- do'd, out upon him rammifh foxe, he ftinks hither ; Prethee good Brother reade.

Tib. I will. Reades.

Alp. Is't Gander moneth with him? How the devill is my maydenhead blafled 1 that among fuch fhoales of Gallants, that fwim up and downe the Court, no fifh bites at the baite of my poore beautie, but this tough Cods-head ?

Tib. Oh fifler, peace for heavens fake j heere lies

health

Even in this bitter pill (for me) fo you Would play but my Phifician, and fay, take it ; You are offered heere, to foiourne at his houfe : Companion with his Lady.

Alp. Sir, I have you. And I goeing vpon fo weightie a bufmeffe, as getting of children, you would ha' me pin you to my fleeve.

Tib. Moft true.

Alp. You care not fo I turne whore to pleafure you.

Tib. Oh Siller, your high worth is knowne full well

The Wonder of a King dome. 241

Gainfl bafe aflault, a Fort Impregnable ;

And therefore, as you love my life, ith' fprindge,

Catch this old Wood-cocke.

Alp. In the flame Tie findge My wings, unleffe I put the candle out, That you i'th' darke may bring your hopes about. You have wonne me. Tib. You revive me. Alp. Have a care you call not your felfe downe

too foone now. Tib. I warrant you. Alp. As for my old Huck-fters artillery, I have

walls of Chaftity flrong enough Ihoote he never fo hard, to

keepe him From making any breach.

Tib. 'Twill be a noble-battaile on each fide ; Yet now my fpirits are rouzed, a ftratageme Lies hatching heere, pray helpe me noble filler, To give it forme and life. Alp. My bed. Tib. What thinke you % (The marke of man not yet fet in my face) If as your fifter, or your kinf-woman, I goe in womans habit, for thereby, Speech, free acceffe, faire opportunity ; Are had without fufpition.

Alp. Mine be your will ;

Oh me ! what paines we take to bring forth ill 1 Such a difguife is fafe too, fmce you never but once Were feene there.

Tib. My wife filler ever.

Enter Cargo.

Alp. Send in the fellow there that brought the

letter ;

Why how now ? doe his leggs faile him already ? A ftaffe for his declining age.

242 The Wonder of a Kingdome.

Carg. I have a pike-ftaffe of mine owne already,

but I could not Keep out your fcurvy defperate hoggf-head from

coming In upon me, I'me cut i'th' cockfcombe.

Alp. Nothing I fee is fo like an old-man, as a young- man drunke.

Carg. Or when he comes from a wench. Alp. Before he beare your anfwer let him fleep. Tib. Whim you laugh at what I could almoft weepe. Exit.

Enter Angela, like a Doftor, Baptifla, his man.

Ang. Deare friend, I mould both wrong my faith

& fortunes,

To make 'em thus dance Antickes ; I mall never play the diffembler.

Bapt. Then neuer play the Louer ; Death ! for a woman, I'de be fleade alive, Could I but fmde one conftant : i'ft fuch a matter For you then to put on a Doc~tours-gowne, And his flat velvet-Cap, and fpeake the gibbering Of an Apothecary.

Ang. If thus difguii'd I'me taken, all the phificke in the world Cannot prolong my life.

Bapt. And dying for her, You venture bravely, all women o're your grave Will pray that they fo kinde a man may have, As to die for 'em ; fay your banifhment Had borne you hence, what hells of difcontent, Had rack'd your foule for her, as hers for you ? Should you but faint, well might you feeme untrue, Where this attempt your loyalty mall approve, Who ventures farthefl winns a Ladies-love.

Ang. How are my beard and haire ?

Bapt. Friend I proteft,

The Wonder of a Kingdome. 243

So rarely counterfeit, as if a painter

Should draw a Doclour : were I ficke my felfe,

And met you with an urinall in my hand,

I de cafl it at your head, unleffe you cad

The water for me, come, all's pafsing well;

Love which makes pale the cheeks, gives you com

plexion, Fit for a fallow French-man.

Ang. I will on then,

In France I long haue liv'd, And know the Garbe Of the French- Mounte-bankes, whofe apifh gefture, Although in them I hold ridiculous, My felfe mail praclife.

BapL For a Doctours-man, You fee I'me fitted, foote by foote I'le walke, and meete all dangers fent againft your breaft.

Ang. I thanke thee noble friend; let's then to

court. The pangs a lover fuffers are but fhort. Exit.

Enter Florence, Pifa, Nicolletto. Philippo, Tonello, met by an old Nurfe.

Flo. How now Nurje, how does my Fiametta ?

Nurf. Oh my fweete Lord, Ihees at it agen, at it agen!

Flo. Who are with her ? call for more helpe.

Nurf. More helpe ! alas there's my Lady Vanni with her, and Ladies upon Ladies, and Doclours upon Doctours, but all cannot doe.

Pifa. How does it take her Nurfe ?

Nurf. Oh fweete Princeffe, it takes her all over with a pricking; firfl about her ftomack, and then fhe heaves, and heaves, that no one man with all his weight, can keepe her downe.

Pier. At this I wonder, that her fickneffe makes her Dodlours fooles.

Nic. He that fhe findes mofl eafe in, is Dr. lordan.

R 2

244 The Wonder of a Kingdome.

Flo. I will give halfe my Duke-dome for her health.

Nic. Well, well, If death do take her, he fhall have the fweeteft bed-fellow that ever lay by leane mans- fide.

Flo. I entreate thee Nurfe be tender over her.

Nurf. Tender quoth a? I'me fure my heeles are growne as hard as hoofes, with trotting for her, I'le put you in one comfort.

Flo. What's that Nurfe ?

Nurf. In her greatefl conflict fh'as had a worthy feeling of her felfe. Exit.

Flo. So, fo, I'me glad of it my Lord of Pi/a. Vnder this common blow, which might have flrooke the ftrongeft heart, here pray doe not you mrinke.

Pifa. Sicknes is lifes retainer, Sir, and I (What is not to be fhun'd) beare patiently ; But had me health as found as hath the fpring, She wo'd to me prove fickly Autumne ilill.

Flo. Oh fay not fo.

' Pif. I finde it, for being loyall, As the touch-needle to one ftarre flill turning, I loofe that ftarre, my faith is paid with fcorning. Who then with eagles wings of faith and truth, W'ud in her fun-beames plaie away his youth, And kiffe thofe flames, which burne but out mine

eyes, With fcalding rivers of her cruelties ?

Flo. 'Tis but her way-ward ficknes cafts this eye of flightnes on you.

Pis. 'Tis my Lord her hate ; For when death fits even almoft on her browes, She fpreads her armes abroad, to welcome him, When in my bridall-bed I finde a grave.

Flo. Now Mutio 1

Enter Mutio. Mut. There's a French-man come to court,

The Wonder of a Kingdome. 245

A profeft Doc~lour, that has feen the Princefle, And will on her recovery pawne his life.

Flor. Comfort from heaven, I hope, let's fee this Doc~lour.

Enter Angela like a Doff our, Baptifta his man.

Flo. Welcome good Doclour : have you feen my

daughter 1

Reflore her health, and nothing in my Duke-dome, Shall be too deare for thee, how doe you ludge her 1

Ang. Be me trat me Lord, I finde her a very bad lady, & no well.

Flo. Piero take the Duke of Pifa pray and be your fitters vifitants.

Piero. Sir we mail, if the Duke pleafe

Pifa. The poyfoned may drinke gall. Exit.

Flo. Attend the Duke.

Enter Cargo, with a letter.

Cargo. The party Sir.

Nico. Thou malt have Cafars pay — my Coach. Car. Old January goes to lie with May. Exit. Flo. Dodlor I thus have fingled you, to found The depth of my girles ficknes, that if no skill Of man can fave her, I again (I heavens will, May arme my breafl with patience, therefore be

free. Ang. By my tra' and fa' my Lor', me no point can

play The hound, and fawne upon de T&$$.puij)ant Roy tn

de world ;

A French-man beare the brave minde for dat. Flo. So, fo, I like him better. Ang. Me gra tanke you, now for de maladie of de

Princefle,

Me one two, tre time, feele her pulfe, and ron up and downe all

246 TJie Wonder of a Kingdome.

De oder parts of her body, and finde noting

but dat She be trobla with le gran defire of de man.

Flo. A great defire of a man ?

An%: A my trat 'tis verament, fhe longa to do fome ting in Love upon le gentle home.

Flo. Do6lor thou hit'fl her heart, 'tis there fhee's

wounded,

By a poyfon'd Arrow, mot from a villaines hand ; One Angela of the Lotti Familie, And till that head be pluckt out, fhee will pine, Vnlefle controul'd by fome deepe Art of thine.

Ang. All tings poffibela me fall undergoe, mee ha read Gotten, Hipocratus, Avicen, but no point can peeke out le remedie for de Madam in de bryars of love.

Flo. No medicine you fay in any of them for Love.

Ang. Ay me, trat not worth a lowfe, onely in my perigrination about le grand gloabe of de world, me find out a fine trick for make a de man, and Voman doe, dat is tickla in love.

Flo. The man and the woman doe ? how doe, how doe ?

Ang. To be cura, and all whole, Admirable veil.

Flo. As how pray 1

Ang. Me have had under my fingera, many brave vench, and mofl Noble gentle Dames, dat have bee much troubla, upon de wilde vorme in de taile for de man.

Flo. Very good.

Ang. And bee my tra my Lord, by experement me finde dat de heart of de man ; you underftanda me.

Flo. Yes, yes, the heart of the man.

Ang. Wee wee, de heart of de man being all dry as peppera.

The Wonder of a Kingdome. 247

Flo. So fo.

Ang. And rub upon de ting (vat you call it) fall make it moulder all to crumble and dud.

Flo. Oh, oh, a Grater.

Ang. Ee by my tra you fay veil, rub a de mans dry Art upon de Grater, and drinke de powder in de pot le Vine, by de Gentle-voman, and by gars-blor, me prefentamently kick up de heele at de man (lie lova.

Flo. Excellent.

Ang. No point more remembra, but cry out le French poo upon le varlet.

Flo. So fhee will hate her lover.

Ang. Be~gar, as my felfe hate le puz-cat, cry mew at my fhin ; and vill have de rombling a de gut, for de other gentle home.

Flo. Thou com' ft up clofe to me now, my brave Doctor.

Ang. Be-gar me hope fo, and derfore my Lord apply le defperate Medicine, to le perilous maladie, and have dis Angela be cut in de troate, and be man- flaughtered.

Flo. You then advife me to have Angelo flaine.

Ang. Wee.

Flo. And then to have my daughter drincke his heart.

Ang. Wee, wee.

Flo. Grated and dried, and fo

Ang. Wee, wee, wee.

Flo. I wo'd I grip'd it fall now in this hand, And eat it panting hot, to teach a peafant To climbe above his being, Doctor, hee dies.

Ang. Knocka de pate dowrie be-gar.

Flo. But flay, flay, hee's fled Florence ; It will

bee

A worke to find him firfl out, and being found, A taske to kill him : for our Gallants fpeake Much of his worth ; The varlet is valiant.

248 The Wonder of a Kingdome.

Ang. No matera for dat : for two tree foure

crowne, dar be Rafcalls fall run him in on debacke-fhide.

Flor. He fhall be fought for, and being found, he dies.

Ang. Pray my lor' fuffera le Princeffe and me for

be in private, Le Do6lor ufes for toucha doe Ooman —

Flo. Doe, fo, whil'fl I for Angeloes death ufe

fpeede, For till I have his heart, mine owne mufl bleede.

Exit.

Enter Baptifta.

Ang. Oh my Baptifta.

Bapt. I have heard the thunder aym'd at your life.

Ang. And it will ftrike me dead, With a mod foddaine and Invifible blowe.

Bapt. Now that you fee his vengeance apt to fall, Flie from it.

Ang. How ?

Bapt. By fayre. and free acceffe, Open your dangers to your Miftris eyes, Where mee flarke mad, fo me be mad for love, You'le bring her to her witts, if wifely now You put her into th' way ; Gold bar'd with locks, Is beft being ftolne ; fleale her then.

Ang. 'Tis but a wracke at mod, Oh on what boiflerous Seas is True love toll ! Exeunt.

Tke Wonder of a Kingdome. 249

Aftus Tertius. Sccena pnma.

Trumpets founding. Enter an VJher bare, perfum ing a roome, Signior Torrenti $or%eoufly attyred, a company of Gallants.

Tor. 'npHis Roome fmells.

JL i. Gal. It has bin new perfum'd.

Tor. Then 'tis your breeches, Hand off— and mines there (fay you) a Sun in our horizon full as glorious, as we our felfe ?

2, Gal. So cry the common people.

Tor. The common people are Rafcalls, lying

devills,

Dung-hills, whofe favor poifons brave mens fames, That Ape of greatneffe (imitating mee) I meane that flavifh Lord lacomo Shall die a beggar, If at the yeares end, His totall of expence dares equall mine ; How is his houfe built 1

i. Gal. Admirable faire.

Tor. Faire ? He guild mine (like Pompey's Theater) All ore to out-mine his ; the richeft hangings Perfian, or Turke, or Indian Haves can weave, Shall from my purfe be bought at any rates ; He pave my great hall with a floare of Clowdes, Wherein mail move an artificiall Sunne, Reflecting round about me, golden beames, Whofe flames mall make the roome feeme all on fire, And when 'tis night, juft as that Sun goes downe, A filver Moone mall rife, drawne up by ftarres, And as that moves, I (landing in her Orbe, Will move with her, and be that man ith' moone, So mock't in old wives tales ; then over head, A roofe of Woods, and Forefls full of Deere, Trees growing downwards, full of finging quiers, And this i'le doe that men with prayfe, may crowne

250 The Wonder of a King dome.

My fame, for turning the world upfide downe : And what brave gallants are Gentilies guefl.es ?

1. Gal. The Lord lacomo Gent Hi feeds All Beggars at his Table.

Torr. Hang lacomo^

My boarde flialbe no manger for poore jades To lick up provinder in.

2. Gal. He welcomes fouldiers.

Tor. Let fouldiors beg and flame, or fteale and

hange.

Wo'd I had heere ten thoufand Souldiors heads, Their fculs fet all in filver, to drinck healthes To his confufion, firft invented warre, And the health drunck to drowne the bowles i'th Sea, That very name of Souldior, makes me fhrugg, And thinck I crawle with vermin ; give me Lutes, Mifchiefe on drumms, for fouldiors ; fetch me whores, Thefe are mens bliffe ; thofe every Kingdomes foares, Wee gave in charge to fearch through all the world For the bell Cookes, rarefl mufitians, And fairefl girles, that will fell fmne for gold.

i. Gal. Some of all forts you have.

Tor. Let me have more

Then the grand Signior, And my change as rare, Tall, low, and middle fize, the browne, and faire ; Ide give a Princes ranfome now to kiffe Black e Cleopatrds cheeke \ Onely to drinke A richer perle, then that of Anthonyes, That Fame (where his name Hands) might put downe

mine.

Oh that my mother had bin Paris Whore, And I had liv'd to fee a Troy on fire, So that by that brave light, I might have danc'd But one Lavalto with my Curtezan.

Enter fourth Gallant.

4. Gal. Patterne of all perfection breath'd in man, There's one without, before your Excellence

The Wonder of a Kingdome. 251

Defires accefle.

Tor. What creature ?

4. Gal. Your owne brother, At leafl hee termes himfelfe fo.

Tor. Is he brave ?

4. Gal. Hee's new come from Sea.

Tor. 'Tis true, that lafon Rig'd o^t a Fleete to fetch the Golden-Fleece ; 'Tis a brave boy, all Elementall fire, His fhipps are great with Child of Turkifh Trea-

fure,

And heere fhall be delivered ; marfhall him in Like the feas proud commander give our charge

Omnes. Sound drums, and trumpets, for my Lord away.

V flier him in Bare and ragged. At which Torrenti Jlarts, his hat falls off, offer it him.

Torr. Thou whorfon pefant, know me, burne that wind-fall,

It comes not to my head that drops fo low,

Another.

i. Gall. Hatts for my Lord,

Hatfs brought in 3 . or 4.

Torr. It fmells of earth, flood it againe fo high, My head would on a dung-hill feeme to lie. How now ? what fear-crow's this <\

Broth. Scar-crow ? thy brother, His bloud cleare as thine owne, but that it fmoakes

not, With perfum'd fiers as thine doth.

Torr. Has the poore make, a fling ; can he hiffe ? What beggs the rogue for ?

Broth. Vengeance

From the jufl thunderer to throw Lucifer downe ; How high fo ever thou rearefl thy Babell-browes, To thy confufion I this language fpeake : I am thy fathers fonne.

252 The Wonder of a Kingdome.

Torr. Ha, ha, the Skipper raves.

Broth. The aw'd Venetian on St. Markes proud- day,

Never went forth to marry the rich-fea, With cafting in her lapp a ring of gold ; In greater bravery then my felfe did freight, A fleete of gallant youthfull Florentines, All vow'd to refcew Rhodes, from Turkifti-flavery : We went and waded up in our owne bloods, Till moll of us were drown'd.

Torr. Faire riddance on you.

Broth. Where fuch a Peacock durfl not fpread his

plumes ;

We fought, and thofe that fell left Monuments Of unmatch't valour to the whole race of man, They that were ta'ne, (mongft whom my felfe was

chiefe)

Were three yeeres chain'd up to the tugging o're, See here the relicts of that mifery, Chaines.

If thou wu'd'ft know more, reade it on my backe, Printed with the Bulls-peezele.

Torr. Hang the dogge. What telleft thou mee of Peezeles ?

Broth. 'Tis thy brother tells thee fo, note me.

Torr. I know thee not ; Set mallives on him, worry him from my gates.

Broth. The firfl unhappy breath I drew, mov'd

heere,

And here Tie fpend my lafl, e're brav'd from hence, Heere Tie have meate and cloaths.

Torr. Kick the curre out.

Bro. Who dares ?

Take from that fumpter-horfes backe of thine, Some of thofe gaudie trappings to cloathe mine, And keepe it from the keene aire, fetch me food, You fawning fpaniells.

1. Gall. Some fpirit of the buttery.

2, Gall. It mould be by his hunger. Broth. I am flarv'd,

The Wonder of a Kingdome. 253

Thirfty, and pinde to th' bare bones, heere, Tie eate

at thine Owne fcorneful board, on thine owne meate, or teare

it from Thy throate as 'tis chewing downe.

Torr. I'le try that ; if my dinner be prepared Serue me in my great flate along'fl this way, And as you paffe, two there with piftolls Hand To kill that ravenous Vulture ; if he dare thruft his

tallents

Forth to make one dim his prey. Exeunt all.

Broth. Now view my face, and tho' perhaps you

fham'd

To owne fo poore a brother, let not my heart-firings, In funder cracke, if we now being lone, You Hill difdaine me.

Torr. Wretch I know thee not, And loath thy fight

Broth. Slave, thou malt know me them ; I'le beate thy braines out with my Gally-chaine. Torr. Wilt murther thine owne brother ? Broth. Pride doth it felfe confound, What with both hands the Devill ftrove to have

bound.

Heaven with one little finger hath untyed, This proves that thou maiefl fall, becaufe one blaft Shakes thee already, feare not, I'le not take The whip out of your hand and tho' thou break'ft Lawes of humanitie, and brother-hood ; I'le not doe foe, but as a begger mould (Not as a brother) knock I at the gate Of thy hard heart for pitty to come forth, And looke upon my wretchednes, A mot Kneelcs. Toore to the keele that gaily where I row'd ; Sunke her, the men flaine, I by dyving fcaped, And fat three leagues upon a broken mad, Wafli't with the fait teares of the Sea, which wept, In pitty, to behold my mifery.

Torr. Pox on your, tarry mifery.

254 The Wonder of a Kingdom e.

Broth. And when heavens bleft-hand hal'de me to

a fhoore

To dry my wet-limbes, was I forc'd to fire, A. dead mans flraw-bed throwne into the flreete.

Torr. Foh, th'art infectious.

Broth. Oh remember this ! He that does good deeds, here waits at a Table. Where Angells are his fellow fervitours.

Torr. I am no Robbin-red-breaft to bring flrawes To cover fuch a coarfe.

Broth. Thou art turn'd devill, Rizes.

Trumpets found. Enter an arnfd feiuer, after him a company with covered difhes : Coronets on their heads. Two ivith piflolls to guard it.

Tor. Where's thy great flomack, eat, ftand, let

him choofe What difli he likes. fnatches a piftoll : all flye off.

Broth. This then which He carve up On thy bafe bofome, fee thou Tryviall foole, Thou art a Tyrant (o're me) of fhort reigne, This cock out crow's thee, and thy petty kings, Th'art a proud bird, but flieft with rotten wings ; To mew how little for thy fcorne I care, See my revenge turn's all to idle-aire, Shootes up.

It upward flies and will from thence I feare Shoote darts of lightning to confound thee heere. Farewell thou huge Leviathan, when th'afl drunk dry, That Sea thou rowl'ft in, on fome bafe more dye.

Enter Gallants all drawne.

Omms. Where is the Traitor ?

Tor. Now the houfe is fiered, You come to cad on waters ; barre up my doores, But one fuch tattered enfigne here being fpread, Drawes numbers hither, here muft no rogues be fed ; Command my carpenters invent od engines.

The Wonder of a Kingdoms. 255

To manacle bafe beggers, hands and feete, And by my name call 'em my whipping pods ; If you fpye any man that has a looke, Stigmatically drawne, like to a furies, (Able to fright) to fuch I'le give large pay, To watch and ward for poore fnakes night and day, And whip 'em foundly if they approch my gates ; The poore are but the earths-dung fit to lie Cover'd on muck-heapes not to offend the eye.

Enter i. Gal.

i. Gall. Two Gentlemen fent from the Florence Duke,

Require fpeech with your Lord-mip

Torr. Give'm entrance.

Enter Mutio, Philippo.

What are you ? and whence come you ?

Mut. From the Duke.

Tor. Your bufmeffe 1

Mut. This, fame founding forth your worth For hofpitable princely houfe-keeping ; Our Duke drawne by the wonder of report, Invites himfelfe (by us) to be your gueft.

Tor. The honour of Embaffadors be yours ; Say to the Duke that Ctzfar never came, More welcome to the Capitoll of Rome,

Then he to us healthes to him fill rich

wines.

Mut. You have this wonder wrought, now rare to

men ; By you they have found the golden age agen.

Tor. Which I'le uphold, fo long as there's a funne, To play the Alchymijl.

Phil. This proud fellow talkes As if he grafped the Indies in each hand.

Torr. Health to your Duke.

256 The Wonder of a Kingdome.

Amb. We pledge it on our knees.

Tor. I'le Hand to what I do, but kneele to none.

Muficke, drinck, breake the glaffe, they pledge it in plate, Which offering, both fervitotirs refufe to take.

Tor. Breake not our cuftome (pray ye) with one

beame,

The god of mettailes makes both gold and wine To Imitate whofe greatneffe ; If on you I can beflow Wine, I can give gold too, Take them as free as Bacchus fpends his blood ; And in them drinke our health.

Mat. Your bounty farre Exceeds that of our Ccefars.

Tor. Ctzfar ero, vel nihil ero : What are Gold heapes ? but a rich duft for Kings To fcatter with their breath, as chaffe by winde ? Let him then that hath gold, beare a Kings minde, And give till his arme akes, who bravely powres But into a wenches lap his golden fhowres, May be loues equall, oh but hee that fpends A world of wealth, makes a whole world his debter, And fuch a Noble fpender is loves better ; That man He be, I'me Alexanders heire To one part of his minde, I wifh there were Ten Worlds, yet not to conquer, but to fell For Alpine hills of filver, And that I Might at one feaft, fpend all that treafure drie ; Who hoards up wealth, is bafe ; who fpends it, brave, Earth breeds gold, fo I tread but on my Have ; Beare backe our gratulations to your Duke. Exit.

Amb. Wee mail great fir.

Mut. Torrenti call you him ; 'tis a prowd rough flreame.

Phil. Hee's of the Romane Family indeede.

Mut. Lord Vanni 1 rather my Lord Vanitie.

Phil. And heapes of money fure haue flrucke him mad.

The Wonder of a Kingdome. 257

Mut. Hee'le foone pick up his witts, let him but

bleede

Thus many ownces at one time ; All day Could I drinke thefe deare healthes. yet nere be drunke.

Phil. And carry it away moft deanery.

Mut Not a pin the worfe ; What might his father leave him ?

Phil. A great eftate, Of fome 300000 Crownes a yeare.

Mut. Strange hee's not begg'd, for fooles are now

growne deare ; An admirable Cocks-combe !

Phi. Let wonder paffe, Hee's both a brave Lord, and a golden Afle. Exit.

A Bed dif covered, Fyametta upon it. Enter two Dukes,

Piero, Gallants, Nurfe, Ladies, Angela, Baptifta, ut

antea Fyametta.

Ang. I pray you hum all, a little hum, le faire Lady by her owne volunter difpofition, has take a ting dat is of fuch a grand operation, it (hall make a de Hone for flepe.

Flo. What, Noble Doctor, is the name of it ?

Ang. 'Tis not your fcurvie Englifh Poppy, nor Mandragon, nor a ting fo danger as Oppium, but tis de brave ting a de vorld, for knock a de braine afleepe.

Pifa. I am glad fhee takes this reft.

Ang. Peace, be gor it is fnore and fnore, two mile long ; now if your grace vill pleafe for procure Mufick, be reftore as brave as de fim.

Flo. Call for the Muficke.

Ang. Makea no noife, but bring in de Fidlers, and play fweet —

Nico. Oh out upon this Doctor ; hang him, does he thinke to cure dejected Ladies with Fidlers

Ang. De grand French poo ftopa de troate, pray void le Shambera.

* s

258 The Wonder of a Kingdome.

Flo. All, all ' part foftly ; peace Nurfe, let her fleepe.

Nurf. I, I, go out of her profpecl:, for fhee's not to bee cur'd with a fong. Exit.

Ang. Baptifta, fee the doore faft, watch that nar rowly.

Bapt. For one friend to keepe doore for another, is the office now amongft gallants, common as the Law ; He bee your porter Sir.

Ang. Shee does but flumber, Fiametta, Love.

Fia. The Pifan Prince comes : daggers at my heart.

Ang. Looke up, I am not hee, but Angela 1

Fia. Ha ! who names Angela \

Ang. Angelo himfelfe,

Who with one foote treads on the throat of death, Whilfl t'other ftepps to embrace thee, thus i'th ftiape Of a French Doctor.

Fya* Oh my life, my foule.

Ang. Heare me.

Fya. Ime now not ficke, He have no Phificke, But what thy felfe mall give mee.

Ang. Let not loy confound our happinefle, I am

but dead, If it be knowne I am heere.

Fya. Thou malt not hence.

Ang. Be wife deare heart \ fee here the befl of

men, Faithfull Baptitla

Fya. Oh, I love Baptijla,

Caufe he loves theej But my Angelo I love bove kings.

Bapt. Madam you'le fpoile, Vnleffe you joyne with us in the fafe plot Of our efcape.

Ang. Sweete Fyametta heare me, For you mall hence with us.

Fya. Over ten worlds, But lie not hence ; my Angelo mail not hence,

The Wonder of a Kingdome. 259

True love, like gold, is bed being tried in fire ;

He defie Father, and a thoufand deaths — for thee

Knock within.

Ang. Vndone, vndone.

Bapt. At the Court gate, I fee a lebbit already to hang's both ; Death ! the Duke beates at the doore.

Fya. He lhall come in ; Enter Omnes.

One frowne at thee, my Tragedie (hall begin ; See Father

Flo. I told you that I heard — her tongue —

Fya. See Father.

Flo. What fweete girle ?

Fya. That's Angelo, and you (hall pardon him.

Flo. With all my heart.

Fya. Hee fays hee pardons thee with all his heart.

Ang. Mee Lor, be all mad, le braine crowe, and run whirabout like de windmill faile, pardona moy, por quoy my fweete Madam, pardon yoar povera Dottcr.

Fya. Becaufe thou art my banifh't Angelo.

Flo. Starke mad.

Pifa. This her recoverie 1

Fya. Hee is no Docftor,

Nor that his man, but his deare friend Baptifla ; Has black't his beard like a Comcedian To play the Mountibanke ; away, He marry None but that Docftor, and leave Angelo.

Ang. I doe pray Artely, Madam.

Fya. Leave off thy gibberifhe, and I prethee

fpeake Thy Native language.

Ang. Par-ma-foy all French be-gor mee be mad as the moone.

Flo. Sweet girle, with gentle hands fir, take her hence.

Fya. Stand from mee, I muft follow Angelo.

s 2

260 The Wonder of a Kingdoms .

Pifa. Thine eyes drinke fleepe from the fweet god

of reft. Fya. Oh, you fhoote poyfon'd arrowes thorow my

breaft.

Manent Florence, Angela, Baptifta.

Flo. What ftrange new furie now poffeffeth her ?

Ang. Begar her Imagination be out a de vitts, and fo dazell de two nyes, and come downe fo into de bellie, and poffibla for make her tink mee or you to be le fhentle-man mee lovea, and fo mee takea my man for a lack-a-nape, mee know not who.

Bapt. For one Baptifta.

Ang. Povera garfhon a ma trat.

Flo. I doe beleeve you both ; but honefl Doclor, Straine all thy Art, and fo thou leave her well, I care not if you call up feinds from hell.

Ang. Dar be too much devill in de body all ready be my trat my Lor, mee no flay heere for ten hundred hundred Coronaes, fhe cry upon mee 'tis Mafter Angela, you tink fo not one and two time, but a tyrd time, you fmella me out ; And fo cutta my troate ; adue my Lor.

Flo. Still your opinion holds to kill that villaine, And give her his heart dried.

Ang. In de pot a vine, wee, very fine.

Flo. This gold take for thy paines to make her

fownde,

There needs a defperate cure to a defperate wounde.

Exit.

Ang. How blowes it now ?

Bapt. Faire, with a profperous gale.

Ang. Poore love, thou flill art flrucke with thine

owne fate ; My life hangs at a thred, friend I mufl flie.

Bapt. How, to be fafe ?

Ang. I will take fancluary, I know a reverend Fryar, in whofe cell

The Wonder of a Kingdome. 261

He lurke till ftormes blow ore ; If women knew What men feele for them, None their fcornes mould rue.

Enter Tibaldo in Womans attire, Alphonfina.

Alph. Is't come to this, have the walls of the Caftle beene befieged thus long, lien open for a breach ; and dare you not

Give fier to once piece ? oh y'ar a proper foldyor, good Sifter, brother follow your game more clofe, or i'le leave you.

Tib. What wu'd you have me doe ?

Alp. Why I would ha' you (tho' you be in womans apparrell) to be your felfe a man, and do what you come for.

Tib. I have bin giving her a thoufand on fetts, And flill a blufhing cheeke makes me retire ; I fpeake not three words, but my tongue is ready To aske forgiven es of her.

Alp. Muft thou needs at thy firft encounter tell her thou art a man, why when you walke together, cannot you begin a tale to her, with once upon a time, there was a loving couple that having tyred themfelves with walking, fat downe upon a banck, and kift, and embraced, and plaid, and fo by degrees bring the tale about to your owne purpofe. Can you not ? fie, you are the worft at thefe things Sir.

Tib. I am fifter indeed,

Alp. And the more foole you indeed : you fee how the old {linking fox her husband is ftil rubbing me as if I had the palfy, He not have his wither'd hands (which are as moift as the fide of ftock-fim) lye pidling in my bofome, therefore determine fome thing, or farewell.

Tib. I have deare fifter, if you will but heare me.

Alp. Come on, out with't then.

Tib. Give you the old man promife of your love, And the next night appoint him for your bed ;

262 The Wonder of a Kingdome.

Rap'd with joy, he'le feigne bufmeffe of Hate, To leave his lady, and to lie alone.

Alp. Very good.

Tib. Then my requefl mall be, that for that

night

She would accept me for her bed-fellow, And there's no queflion fifler of the grant, Which being Injoy'd I doubt not but to manage And carry all fo even on levill ground, That my offence mall in my love feeme drownde.

Alp. The clocke for your bufmeffe thus far goes true, but now for me, what mail I do with the old cock in my Rooft 1

Tib. Sifter, you have fome tricke (no doubt) to

keepe Him within compaffe.

Alp. No not I, beleeve me, I know not what to doe with him, unleffe I mould give him a little J\/ux vomica, to make him fleep away the night, but brother, to pleafure you, He venter a joynte, and yet it troubles me too, that I mould prove a Traytor to my fex, I doe betray an Innocent Lady, to what ill I know not.

But Love the author of it wil I hope Turne it quite otherwife, and perhaps it may be So welcome to her as a courtefie.

Tib. I doubt not but it mail.

Alp. We nothing can, Vnleffe man woman helpe, and woman man. Exeunt.

The Wonder of a Kingdome. 263

Aftus quartus. Sccena prima.

Trumpets founding. Enter Torrenti very brave, be- tweene the two Dukes, attended by all the Courtiers, wondring at his coftly habit. Enter a mask, women in ftrang habitts. Dance. Exit. He gives Jewells, and ropes of pear le to the Duke', and a chaine of gold to every Courtier. Exit. Nicho- letti and he flay.

Nic. 'THHott art my noble kinfman, and but thy

J_ mother

(Vpon my foule) was chaft I mould beleeve Some Emperor begot thee.

Tor. Why pray Vncle ?

Nico. Suppofe all kingdomes on the earth were

balls,

And that thou held'fl a racket in thy hand, To toffe 'em as thou wu'd'ft, how wo'dft thou play 1

Tor. Why ? as with balls, bandy 'em quite away.

Nico. A tennes-court of kings could do no more ; But faith what doeft thou thinke, that I now think, Of thy this days expence ?

Torr. That it was brave.

Nico. I thinke thee a proud vaine-glorious brag ging knaue,

That golden wombe thy father left fo full, Thou vulture-like eat'ft thorough : oh heeres trim ftuffe ; A good-mans (late, in Gartyres, firings and ruffe ; Haft not a faffron fhirt on too 1 I feare th'art Troubled with the greene-ficknes, thou look'fl wan.

Tor. With anger at thy fnarling mufl my hoafe Match your old greafy cod-piece ?

Nico. No, but I'de have thee live in compafle.

2or. Foole, I'le be As the fun in the Zodiack ; I am he That wood take Phaetons fall, tho' I fet fire

264 The Wonder of a Kingdome.

On the whole world to be heavens charioteire, (As he was) but one day.

Nico. Vaine riotous cockfcombe, Tha'fl fier'd to much already, Parkes, Forrefts, chafes, Have no part left of them, but names and places ; Tis voic'd abroad thy lands are all at pawne.

Tor. They are, what then 1

Nico. And that the mony went to Entertaine the Popes great Nuntio, On whom you fpent the ranfome of a king.

Tor. You lye.

Nico. I thanke you Sir.

Tor. Say all this true That I fpent millions, what's that to you. Were there for every day i'th'yeare a Pope, For every houre i'th' yeare a Cardinall ; I'd melt both Indies, but I'de feaft 'em all.

Nico. And leave your Curtezans bare, that leaving

bare,

Will one day leave thee naked, one nights waking, With a frem-whore, coft thee 4000. duckets, Eife the bawd lies.

Tor. Wert thou not mine uncle I'de fend thee with thy frozen-beard where furies Should findge it off with fire-brands, touching Wenching, that art thy felfe an old rotten whore- mafter.

Nico. I a whore-mafter ? To mew how much I hate it, harke, when next thy

tomblers

Come to dance upon the ropes, Play this jigg to 'em.

Tor. Goe, goe, idle droane,

Thou enviefl bees with flings, becaufe thine is gone, Plate, Jewells, revenues all mall flie.

Nico. They mail.

Tor. And then Sir I'le turne pickled theefe, a

Pirate, For as I to feed Ryot, a world did crave,

The Wonder of a King dome. 265

So nothing but the fea fhall be my grave,

Meane time that circle few began I've runne, tho' the

Devill (land i'th' Center.

Nice. What's that circle 1

Torr. The vanitie of all man-kinde be mine, In' me all prodigalls loofenes frefh fhall flowe, Wine, harlots, furfetts, rich embroidered cloaths, Falhions, all fenfuall fins, all new coin'd oathes, Shall feed me, fill me ; He feaft every fence, Nought mall become me ill, but innocence. Exit.

Nico. I hope a wallet hanging at thy backe, Who fpends all young, ere age comes, all will lacke.

Exit.

Enter an Apothecary give a ferving-man gold,

Servants in blew-coats : Stew. Broker, Goldfmith, Torrentts Brother, a Trumpet.

Gent. What founds this trumpet for ?

Omnes. Dinner my Lord.

Gent. To feafl whome this day are my tables fpread 1

St. For fea-men, wrack't, aged, or ficke, or lame, And the late ranfom'd captives from the Turke.

Gent. Cheere them with harty welcomes in my

name,

Attend them as great Lords, let no man dare, To fend 'em fad hence, bounty mall be plac'd At the boards upper end ; For Marriners Are clocks of danger that do ne're fland Hill, Their dialls-hand ere points to'th flroake of death, And (albeit feldome windleffe) loofe their breath ; I love 'em, for they eat the deareft bread, That life can buy, when the elements make warrs ; Water and aire, they are fav'd by their good flarrs. And for the gally-flaves, make much of thofe, love

that man

Who fuffers onely for being chriflian ; What fuiters waite ?

266 The Wonder of a Kingdome.

St. Come neere, one at once, keep back pray.

Bro. A forry man, a very forry man.

Gen. What makes thee forry ?

Brok. All I had is burnt, and that which touches me to the quick, a boxe of my fweete evidence my Lord.

Gent. Show me fome proofe of this.

Brok. Alas too good proofe, all burnt, nor flick, nor flone, left.

Gent. What wo'dfl have me doe ^

Brok. Beflow but a bare roo.l. on me, to fet me up.

Gent. Steward deliver him a loo.l.

Brok. Now all the

Gent. Nay kneele not Sir, but heare me,

Brok. Oh my hony Lord !

Gent. Faces are fpeaking pictures, thine's a booke, Which if the leafe be truly printed mews A page of clofe diffembling.

Brok. Oh my Lord !

Gent. But fay thou art nich, yet the monie's thine, Which I to Charitie give, not to her fhrine ; If thou cheat'fl me, thou art cheated *{ how ? th'hafl

got

(Being licorifh) ratf-bane from a gally-pot, Taking it for fugar ; thou art now my debtor, I am not hurt, nor thou I feare, much better ; Farewell.

Enter lame leggd Souldier.

Soul. Cannons defend me, Gun-powder of hell, Whom doefl thou blow up heere ?

Broak. Some honefl fcullar, row this lame dog to hanging.

Gent. What noife is that 1

Stew. My Lord calls to you,

Soul. Was there ever call'd A devill by name from hell ? then this is one.

The Wonder of a Kingdome. 267

Gent. My friend, what is hee 1

Soul. A Citie peflilence,

A moath that eates up gownes, doublets and hofe, One that with Bills, leades fmocks and fhirts together To linnen clofe adultery, and upon them Strowes lavender, fo ftrongly, that the owners Dare never fmell them after ; hee's a breaker.

Gent. Suppofe all this, what hurt hath hee done thee?

Soul. More then my limbs loffe ; in one weeke he

eate My wife up, and three children, this chriftian lew

did;

Ha's a long lane of hellifti Tenements, Built all with pawnes.

Gen. All that he had is burnt.

Soul. He keepes a whore indeede, this is the

Raven,

Cryed knocke before you call, he may be fir'd, His lowfie wardropes are not ; to this hell-hound I pawn'd my weapons to buy browne bread To feede my brats and me ; (they forfited) Twice fo much as his money him I gave, To have my Armes redeem'd, the griping Have Swore (not to fave my foule) vnleffe that I Laid downe my ftumpe heere, for the Intereft, And fo hop home.

Gnnt. Vnheard of villaine i Broker, is this true 1

Brok. 'Twere finne my Lord, to lie.

Gent. Souldier, what is't thou now crau'fl at my hands ?

Soul. This my Pitition was, which now I teare, My fuite here was, When the next place did fall, To be a Beadef-man in your Hofpitall : But now I come moll pitioufly complaining Againfl this three-pile rafcall, widowes decayer, The Orphans beggerer, and the poores betrayer ; Give him the Ruffian law for all thefe fmnes.

268 The Wonder of a Kingdome.

Gent. How f

Soul. But one hundred blowes on his bare fhins.

Br. Come home and take thine Arms.

So. He have thofe leggs.

Gent. Broaker, my foule forefaw goods thus ill

got,

Would as ill thrive, you ask'd a hundred pound, 'Tis yours ; but crafty Broaker, you plaid the knave To begg, not needing. This man now muft have His requeft too, 'tis honeft, faire, and juft, Take hence that varlet therefore, and on his fhinnes, In ready payment, give him an hundred blowes.

Broak. My Lord, my pitifull Lord.

Soul. I muft "beftirre my flumps too. luftice, my Lord.

Gent. I will not ravill out time ; Broaker, I offer

you A hundred for a hundred.

Soul. That's his owne ufury.

Gent. A hundred pound, or elfe a hundred blowes, Give him that money, he mall releafe you thofe.

Brok. Take it, and may'fl thou rot with't. Exit*

Soul. Follow thee thy curfe, Wo'd blowes might make all Breakers flill disburfe.

Gent. What next 1

Serv. The Party fir.

Gent. What party fir 1 If honefl, fpeake, I love no whifperer.

Serv. This Gentleman is a great muter.

Gent. In a Long-bow ? how farre fhootes hee 1

Serv. To your Lordmip, to be your Apothecary.

Gent. Vmh ; what fpie you in my face, that I

fho'd buy Your druggs and drenches ? beares not my cheeke a

colour

As frefh as any old mans 1 doe my bones Ake with youth's ryotts ? or my blood boile hot With feavers ? or is't num'd with dropfies, cold Coughes, Rhumes, Catarrhes, Gowts, Apoplexie fits ?

The Wonder of a Kingdome. 269

The common foares of age, on me never ran,

Nor Galenift nor Paracelfian,

Shall ere reade Phificall Lecture upon me.

Apot. Two excellent fellowes my Lord.

Gent. I honour their profefsion, What the Creator does, they in part doe,

For a Phifician's a man-maker too, but honeft

friend,

My kitchin is my Doctor, and my Garden, Truflie Apothecare ; when they give me pills, So gently worke they, I'me not choak'd with bills, Which are a ftronger purge then the difeafe.

Apo. Alas my Lord, and 'twere not for bills, our (hops wo'd downe.

Gent. Sir, I beleeve you, bills nor pills He

take;

I (land on ficknes ftioare, and fee men toft From one difeafe to another, at lafl loft ; But to fuch feas of furfetts, where they're drown'd, 1 never ventering am ever found.

Apo. Ever found my Lord? if all our Gallants fho'd bee fo, Doctors, Pothecaries, and Barber- furgeons, might feed upon Onyons and Butter-milke ; ever found ! a brave world then.

Gent. 'Tis their owne fault, if they feare fprings or

falls,

Wine-glaffes fill'd too faft, make urynalls ; Man was at firft borne found, and hee growes ill

Seldome by courfe of nature, but by will

Diflempers are not ours, there fhould be then (Were wee our felues) no Phificke, men to men Are both difeafes caufe, and -the difeafe, I'me free from (thankes good fate) either of thefe.

Apo. My 50. Crownes.

Ser. Not I.

Apo. No, muft I give you a Glifler %

Ser. Hift, hift.

Apo. If your Lordfhip will not allow me minifter to your felfe, pray let me give your man a purgation.

270 The Wonder of a Kingdome.

Ser. Me a Purgation ? my Lord, I'me pafling well.

Gent. Him a Purge, why ?

Apo. Or rather a vomit, that hee may caft up 50

Crownes

Which he fwallowed as a Bribe to preferre me.

Gent. My health is bought and fold fir then by

you,

A Do6lor baits you next, whofe mem of potions Striking me full of vlcers, a gibberifh Surgion, For 50. Crownes more, comes to drawe my will, For mony, flaves their Soveraignes thus kill ; Nay, nay, fo got, fo keepe it ; for his Fifty, Give him a 100. Crownes, becaufe his will Aym'd at my health I know, and not at ill : Fare you well fir.

Apo. Who payes mee fir 1

Sir. Follow me, I fir. Exit Ser. 6- Apothe.

Enter Goldfmith.

Gold. The fellow, my Lord, is faft.

Gent. What fellow fir?

Gold. The thiefe that ftole this lewell from your

honour, Hee came unto my Hall my Lord.

Gent. So.

Gold. And ask'd mee Not the fourth part in money it was worth, And fo fmelling him out.

Gent. You did.

Goldf. I did fir,

Smell him out prefently, and under hand Sent for a Conflable, examined him, And finding that he is your Stewards man, Committed him toth' lale.

Gent. What money had hee upon this lewell of you?

Goldf. None my good Lord, after I heard it yours.

The Wonder of a Kingdoms. 271

Gent. Elfe you had bought it, And beene the thiefes receiver, y'ar a varlet, Go to, a fawcie knave ; if I want money, And fend my fervants fervant (caufe the world Shall not take notice of it) to pawne, or fell lewells, or Plate, tho' I loofe halfe in halfe, Muft you fir, play the Marfhall, and commit him, As if he were a rogue ; goe and releafe him, Send him home prefently, and pay his fees, doe you fee fir.

Gold. My Lord, I do fee.

Gent. Lead by the Innocent fellow, I lay you fail byth' heeles, doe this y'are beft ; You may be gone.

Gold. Heere's a moft excellent jeaft. Exit.

Enter Steward.

Gent. Harke you, the Duke of Florence fent me

once A lewell, have ye it ? For you laid it up.

Ste. My Lord, I have it.

Gent. Are you fure you have it ? Why change you colour ? Know you this ? doe you

know

Your man, you fent to fell it 1 You belike Thought in my memory it had beene dead, And fo your honefly too came buried, Tis well, out of mine eye ; what wo'd you with mee t

Enter Brother, to Torrenti.

Broth. Your pitty on a wretch late wrackt at fea, Beaten a more by penury, 3. yeares a Turkifh Gally-flave,

Gent. Your birth ?

Broth. Such Sir,

As I dare write my felfe a gentleman, In Florence flood my cradle, my houfe great,

272 The Wonder of a Kingdome.

In mony, not in mercy ; I am poore,

And dare not with the begger pafle their doore.

Gent. Name them, they fhalbe forc't to thy reliefe. Broth. To fteale compafsion from them like a

thiefe,

Good my Lord pardon me, under your noble wing, I had rather fit, then on the higherl tree fing, That fhadowes their gay buildings.

Gent. Young man I doe commend thee, where's

my fleward ?

Give me thy hand, I entertaine thee mine, Make perfect your accounts, and fee the books de-

liver'd To this Gentleman.

St. This poore rogue Sir ? Gent. Thou art a villaine, fo to tearme the man, Whom I to liking take ; Sir I difcharge you ; I regard no mans out-fide, 'tis the lineings Which I take care for.

St. Not if you knew how louzie they were.

Gent. Caft not thy fcorne upon him, prove thou

but juft, He raife the Cedars fpring out firft from duft. Exit.

Enter Nicolletto, Dariene, Alphonf. Alifandra, Tibaldo, Cargo.

Nic. Madam this night I have received from

court,

A booke of deepe import, which I mufl reade, And for that purpofe will I lie alone.

Dar. Be Mr. of your owne content my Lord, He change you for fome femall bed-fellow.

Nic. With all my heart.

Tib. Pray madam then take me.

Nic. Doe prethee wife.

Dar. And Sir, me is moft welcome.

Nic. Wo'ld I were at it for it is a booke, My fingers itch till I be turning o're ; Good reft faire Alphonfina you'le not faile.

The Wonder of a Kingdome. 273

Alp. No, feare me not.

Nic. All all to bed, to bed.

Alp. Mine eyes are full of fleepe j He follow you.

Exit.

Dar. I to my clofet, and then bed-fellow Expect your company.

Tibal. I will be for your Lady.

Aleff. Madam fo pleafe you forfeit to my mother, And let your felfe and I be bed-fellowes.

Tib. Deare heart I humbly thanke you, but I muft not.

Aleff. Lady I rather wifh your company, Becaufe I know one maiden beft conceales, What's bofom'd in another : but He waite With patience a time fitting.

Tib. W'orthy Lady, This time is yours and mine.

Aleff. Thus I begin then, And if I cannot woe reliefs from you, Let me at leaft win pitty, I have fixt Mine eye upon your brother ; whom I never But once beheld here in this houfe, yet wifh That he beheld me now and heard me ; You are fo like your brother, that me thinkes I fpeake

to him,

And that provokes a blufh to aflaile my cheeke ; He fmiles like you, his eyes like you ; pray Lady Where is the gentleman ? 'twas for his fake I would have lien with you, wo'd it were as lawfull to fellow nights with him.

Tib. Troth I do wifli it.

Aleff. And if in this you inrich me with your

counfell, He be a gratefull taker.

Tib. Sure my brother Is blefl in your affection, and mail have Good time to underfland fo.

Dar. Alefandra. within.

AlefJ. Madam.

274 The Wonder of a Kingdome.

Dar. A word, come quickly. Exit.

Tib. O ye heavens ! how ftrangely one houre works upon an other. It was but now heart-lick, and long'd for meat, Which being fet before me I abhorre.

Alp. Brother.

Enter Alphonfma.

Tib. What frights you thus from your chamber 1

Alp. Such a fury as thou.

Tib. How now 1 haft loft thy witts ?

Alp. He fweare thou haft, for thou haft candied Thy fweete but poyfonous language to diihonour Me thy moft wretched fifter, who no better then a vile Inftrument to thy defires, deferves to be ftil'd, Baud, worfe then the bauds. Who every day i'th' weeke make hands with hell.

Tib. Ha' patience deareft fifter ; I proteft, By all the graces that become a man, I have not wrong'd Dariene nor her Lord.

Alp. Thou malt not then by heaven.

Tib. By all goodnes, not With a well blufh difcourfe faire Aliffandra, Suppofing me your fifter hath difcover'd The true pangs of her fancy towards Tibaldo, And in it crav'd my aide, which heard, Even then, My Brutifh purpofe broke its neck, and I Will proue the daughters husband, that came hither, A traytour to the Mother.

Alp. My noble brother, Our doings are alike, for by Trebatio (Whome I with honour name) his fathers foulenes fhall

be Cut off and croft.

Tib. Get to your chamber \ No longer will I play the womans part, This night fhall change my habit with my heart. Exit.

The Wonder of a Kingdome. 275

Enter Nicoletti with a light.

Nichol. In this chamber fhe lies, and that's her window; wo'd I were in : the aire bites, but the bit that I mall bite anon,efharpens my ftomack, the watch word is a cornet, ( Cornet within) it fpeakes, me bids me come without a light, and reafon, fhes light enough herfelfe; wincke thou one-eyed baud, be thou an embleme of thy Mr. and burne in fecret.

Enter Alphonfina, above.

Alp. My Lord.

Nic. What fayes my moft moifl-handed fweete Lady.

Alp. Who is there with you ?

Nico. No chriflian creature, I enter folus.

Alp. I feare I muft entreate you to Hay a little.

Nic. As long as thou defir'fl, but- wilt come downe 1

Alp. I would be loth to loofe all upon reft.

Nic. Shall I mount then ?

Alp. For mine honour being once crack't.

Nic. Crack a pudding : He not meddle with thine honour.

Alp. Say you mould get me with childe.

Nic. I hope I am not the firft Lord has got a lady with childe.

Alp. Is the night hufti't?

Nic. Ther's nothing ftirring, the very mice are a fleepe, as I am noble, He deale with thee like a gentleman.

Alp. He doe that then, which fome Citizens will not doe, to fome Lord.

Nico. What's that ?

Alp. Take your word, I come.

Nico. Vd's my life !

Alp. What's the matter fir 1 Muftcke within.

Nico. I heare a lute, and fure it comes this way.

T 2

276 The Wonder of a Kingdome.

Alp. My mofl lov'd Lord, ftep you afide, I would not have you feene for the faving of my right hand, preferve mine honour, as I preferve your love.

Enter Trebatio with Muftcke.

Nico. Pox on your Catts guts.

Alp. To an unworthy window, who is thus kind 1

Treb. Looke out of it, and 'tis the richeft cafement That ever let in Ayre.

Alp. Trebatio.

Treb. I, my mofl faire Miflris.

Alp. Neither of both good fir ; Pray play upon fome other, you abufe mee, And that which feemes worfe, in your fathers houfe.

Nico. Brave girle.

Alp. But you are young enough to be forgiven, If you will mend hereafter, the night has in it Vnwholfome foggs, and blafts ; to bed my Lord, Leaft they attach your beautie : nothing more, He pay you for your fong. Exit.

Treb. Are you gone fo ? Well, you hard-hearted one, you mall not ever Be Lady of your felfe — away. Exit.

Enter Cargo running

Car. Oh my Lord, I have flood Centinell as you bad me, but I am frighted.

Nico. With what ?

Carg. The Night-mare rides you, my Lady is con jured up.

Nic. Now the devill lay her down, prevented in the very A 61.

Carg. She workes by magick, and knowes all.

Enter Dariene.

Dari. Doe you fhrinke backe my Lord ? you may with fhame ; Have I tone you napping my Lord 1

The Wonder of a Kingdome. 277

Nico. But not with the manner my Lady.

Dar. Have you no bird to flie at, but what fits 01* your owne fonnes fifle 1

Nicho. How ! my fonnes fifle ?

Darie. Yes, the Lady whom you wrought to have

bin your Harlot

Your fonne has long fmce wonne to be his bride, Both they and I have this night exercif d Our witts to mocke your dotage.

Nico. Am I then gull'd 1

Dare. Yes my Lord, and bulfd too, yonders Tibaldo Neri come this morning.

Dare. So early, Is his fitter with him ?

Car. Not that I faw, but I faw him kiffe my yong Miflris, three or foure times, I thinke 'twere good to aske the banes of Matrimony.

Nico. Wo't twere no worfe, let's in, and give 'em the mornings Salutation.

Dare. He tell him all.

Nicho. Sweete Lady, feal my pardon with a

kiffe, He ne're was borne, that never did amiffe. Exeunt.

Aflus quintus. Sccena prima.

Enter Florence, Piero, Ptfa, Mutio, Tornelli, Philippe.

Pier. Olr, I have found Angela with long and bufie

y^j fearch. Flo. And will he come 1

278 The Wonder of a Kingdome.

Pier. Your honour (as you charg'd me) I im-

pawn'd

For his fafe paffage.

Flo. By my life hee mail ; when will hee come ? Pie. My friend brings him along. Flo. Philippo MutiO) goe and perfwade our

daughter To walke, and take the ayre.

Pifa. He play that Orator. Exit,

Flo. Attend the Duke of Pifa ; prethee Piero Difcover where this Angela lay lurking.

Pie. The world he has fhut up, and now the

booke He reades, is onely heere, fee where he comes.

Enter Angela as a Fryar, Fyametta.

Flo. Way for my daughter; looke you, there's Angelo.

Fya. Ha ? yes, 'tis the flarre I faile by ; hold me

not,

Why doe you fticke like rocks, to barre my way, And utterly to wracke mee ?

Flo. Art thou mad 1

Fya. Yes, I am mad, oh my beft life, my foule !

Runs to him.

Ang. Whom feeke you Lady ?

Fya. Doe you not know me fir ?

Ang. Yes.

Fia. Doeft thou not love mee ?

Ang. Yes.

Fya. At very heart ?

Ang. Yes, at the very foule.

Fya. Burnes not your love, With that moft holy fire, the god of marriage Kindles in man and woman 1

Ang. Noe.

Fia. Ha, no ?

The Wonder of a Kingdome. 279

Flo. Hee fayes no. Fia. Then fo, quod dedi perdidi. Ang. How can I love you Lady 1 I have clim'd too many of fuch fruitleffe trees. Fia. Have you indeede 1 Ang. Yes, and have pulFd the apples. Fia. Now I befhrew your fingers. Ang. And when I touch'd 'em, found 'em turn'd

to duft. Why mould you love me? I have chang'd my

pleafure

In beautious dames, more then I have my dreames, Foure in one night.

Flo. Hee'le prove a luftie Larrence ; This is the flarre you fayle by tho.

Ang. Why mould you love me? I am but a

Tombe, Gay out-fide, but within, rotten and foule.

Flo. He fweare th'art moll difeaf'd, even in thy

foule ;

Oh thou, thou mofl perfidious man alive, So profper, as my poore ficke heart doth thrive ; Give me thy hand, I hate thee, fare-thee-well. Gome, I make thee my heaven, wer't once my Hell.

ToPifa. Pifa. I'me rap't above the fpheares, loy ftrikes

me dumbe.

Flo. Th'aft lent unto mine age a fcore of yeares, More then ere nature promif d, by thy loving This Noble Prince ; th'art his then ?

Fya. His— to prove it ; hence Thou from mee ; ne're more behold mine eyes. Ang. Now finde I, that a Lovers heart laft dies.

Exit.

Flo. I, I, fo, fo ; If it die, it mail be buried. Fya. Good reverend Sir, flay you, and as you wit-

neffe

This my divorce, fo mall you feale my contract Fryar. I will, your pleafure.

2 So The Wonder of a Kingdome.

Flo. Fyametta, Make choice thy felfe of thine owne wedding day.

Fya. To morrow be it, Loves poyfon is delay, Gallants, pray flirre betimes, and rowfe your Miflrefles ; Let fome invite Lord Vanni and his Lady ; Wee dine to day with Lord lacomo, Thither let's haften : Sir, this holy man, Shall be this night my confeffor ; about mid-night, Expect my fending for you.

Fryer. Your devotion

Commands my fervice. Ware lead i'th fryers ftead. The Prince be your confeffor ; girle prepare To play the bride to morrow, and then being laid, One night pafl o're, thinke nere to rife a maide. Exit.

Trumpets founding fervices carried over the flage, Poore attending Torrenti one, then enter lacomo bare betwixt the two Dukes, Piero, Philippo, Tornelli, Mutio.

Flo. No more of complement, my Lord Geniili ; Such noble welcomes have we had this day, We mufl take blufhing leaves, caufe we can pay Nothing but thanks.

Gent. That's more then the whole debt comes to, Ne're faw I tables crown'd with braver ftore ; I know no man that fpends, nay nor gives more, And yet a full fea flill : why yonder fellow, The brave mock-prodigall has fpent all indeed, He that made beggers proud, begs now himfelfe for need.

Flo. But who releeves him now ]

Gent. None, for I know He that in riotous feafting, wafles his flore, Is like a faire tree which in fommer bore Boughes laden till they crackt, with leaves and fruite, Whofe plenty lafting, all men came unto't ; And pluckt and filld their lapps and carry away ; But when the boughes grow bare, and leaves decay :

The Wonder of a Kingdome. 281

And the great tree {lands fapleffe, wither'd dry, Then each one cafts on it a fcornfull eye, And grieves to fee it ftand, nay do not greeve, Albeit the Axe downe to the roote it cleave ; The fall of fuch a tree, will I beware, I know both when to fpend, and when to fpare.

Flo. 'Tis nobly fpoke.

Pifa. Nay good my Lord make haft.

Pier. Here's a childe loft i'th flaying.

Flo. Get 2. at night for't. What is the bride yet dreft ?

Pier. She's rigging Sir.

Flo. 'Tis well, muficke % from whence 1 What chambers that?

Mut. It loynes clofe to the Lodgings of the bride.

Flo. Inquire

If me be ready, Mutio> fay her bride-groome Attends, on her below.

Mut. I mall my Lord.

Fiametta above.

Pier. Tarry, me looks her felfe out.

Flo. Come, come loiterer.

Fia. Faire welcome to your grace, and to that

Prince, That mould have bin my bridegroome.

Flo. Should ha beene 1

Pier. Is the Moone chang'd already ]

Fia. In her changes

The Moone is conftant, man is onely varying, And never in one Circle long is tarying, But one man in the moone at once appeares, Such praife (being true to one) a woman beares.

Flo. Take thou that praife and to this Prince be

true, Come downe and marry him.

Fia. What would the world fay,

282 Ttie Wonder of a Kingdome.

If I fhould marry two men in one day ?

Flo. That villaine has bewitch't her.

Pier. Sir what villaine?

Flo. That Have, the banifh't runnagate.

Pier. Call not on him Such foule afperfions, till you know his guilt ; Even now you faid he was a worthy fpirit, Crown'd him with praife, and do you now condemne An abfent man unheard 1

Flo. He hang thee traitor.

Pifa. Locke all the gates of Florence, leaft he fcape.

Flo. Our pardon, whofoever takes and kill him.

Pier. Oh ! who would truft in Princes, the vaine

breath, Who in a minute gives one man life and death ?

Fia. Come forth thou threatned man, here kill

him all, Lower then what you ftand on, none can fall.

Angela above.

Ang. I now muft ftand your arrowes, but you

fhoote

Againft a breaft as innocent

Flo. As a traytors.

Ang. Your patience Sir,

Pifa. Talk'fl thou of patience ? that by thy moft

perfidious

Enter frier above.

Ang. Heare me pray. Of if not me, heare then this reverend man.

Pifa. What makes that Fryer there ?

Pier. Father fpeake your minde.

Fryer. I was enjoyned to be her confefforr And came, but then me wonn me to a vow, By oath of all my orders, face to face,

The Wonder of a Kingdome. 283

To heare her fpeak unto An%tlo, 'twas done, He came, when falling downe on both her knees, Her eyes drown' d all in teares, (he opes a booke, Chardging him read his oaths and promifes, The contract of their hands, hearts, yea and foules, And askd if Angela would marry her.

Flo. Very good.

Fry. He looking pale as death, faid faintly no.

Ptfa. Faintly, he then was willing ?

Pier. Pray heare him out.

Fry. Thrice tried : he thrice cried no ; At which

this Ladie

Defperately fnatching from her fide two knives, Had ftab'd her felfe to th' heart, but that we knit Our force againft it, what mould I doe in this 1 Not marry her, or rob her of heavens blifle 1 Which glory had bin greater to have tane, A husband from her, or to have feene her flaine ?

Flo. Then you have married her ?

Fry. I have.

Pier. Brave girle.

Ptfa. lie cut that knot afunder with my fword.

Fry. The hands which heaven hath joyn'd, no man can part.

Fia. The hands they may, but never mall the heart.

Flo. Why didft thou make to him thy promife then?

Fia. Women are borne, but to make fooles of

men.

She that's made fure to him, me loves not well, Her banes are ask'd here, but me wedds in hell ; Parents that match their children gainft their will, Teach them not how to live, but how to kill.

Flo. Parrot, Parrot,

He flop your prating, breake into her chamber, And lay the villaine bleeding at her feete. Draw.

Fia. Villaine ? it is my husband.

Flo. Enter and kill him.

284 The Wonder of a Kingdome.

Pier. Enter, but kill him he that dares, I blufh To fee two Princes fo degenerate.

Fia. Oh noble brother !

Pier, What would you have him doe 1 He well deferves to have her to his wife ; Who gives to you a daughter, her a life, In fight of angels me to him was given, So that in ftriking him, you fight with heaven.

Flo. You fee there is no remedie.

Pifa. Troth none ;

I threw at all (and gamefters lucke) all's gone ; Farewell brave fpirited girle, he that gainft winde, Fier and the fea, law and a womans minde, Strives, is a foole, that's I, He now be wife, And neuer more put truft in woman's eyes.

Fia. I love thee for that word with-all my heart.

Flo. Will you come downe pray ?

Fia. Sweare as you are a Duke.

Flo. Yet more adoe.

Pifa. Will you not truft your father ?

Fia. Why mould I ? you fee there is no truft i'th'

daughter ;

Sweare by your hopes of good you will not touch His naile to hurt him.

Flo. By my hopes I fweare.

Fia. And you too ?

Pifa. Yes, what's falling none can reare.

Fia. Wee come then noble friend, flagg not thy

wings, In this warr I defie a campe of Kings. Exit.

Enter Nicolletto, Tibaldo, Alphonfin. Dariene, Alijfand, Trebatio.

Flo. See, fee, more ftioales of friends, moil

beauteous Ladies, Faire welcomes to you all.

Nic. My Lord thofe tides, Are turn'd, thefe Ladies are transform'd to brides.

The Wonder of a Kingdome. 285

Flo. We heard the happy newes, and therefore

fent,

To marry joyes with joyes, yours, with our owne, Yours (I fee) profper, ours are overthrowne.

Nic. How meane you overthrowne 1

Enter Angel. Fiametta.

Flo. Your owne eyes fhall be witneffe how : nay,

nay, pray rife, I know your heart is up, tho* your knees downe.

Ang. All that we fland in feare of is your frowne.

Fia. And all deare father which I begge of you, Is that you love this man but as I doe.

Flo. What begg you of this Prince 1

Fia. That he would take One favour from me, which my felfe mall make.

Pifa. Pray let it be of willow.

Fia. Well then it mail.

Alph. Why willow 1 is the noble Prince forfaken ?

Pier. All womens faults, one for another taken.

Alp. Now in good footh my Lord, fhee has but

vs'd you

As watermen ufe their fares, for fhee look'd one way And row'd another, you but wore her glove, The hand was Angeloes, and me dealt wifely. Let woman ne're love man, or if me doe, Let him nere know it, make him write, waite, woe, Court, cogge, and curfe, and fweare, and lie, and pine, Till Love bring him to death's doore, elfe hee's not

mine ; That flem eates fweeteft that's pick'd clofe toth'

bone,

Water drinkes befl, that's hew'd euen from the flone ; Men mufl be put to 't home.

Nico. He that loves ducking, let him come learne of thee.

Flo. Shee has good skill ;

286 The Wonder of a Kingdom*.

At table will wee heare a full difcourfe Of all thefe changes, and thefe Marriages, Both how they (huffled, cut, and dealt about, What cards are beft, after the trumpes were out, Who plaid falfe play, who true, who fought to fave An Ace ith' bottom e, and turn'd up a knave ; For Love is but a Card-play, and all's loft, Vnlefle you cogg, hee that pack's beft, wins moft.

Alp. Since fuch good gamfters are together met, As you like this, wee'le play another fett. Exeunt.

FINIS.

THE

Sun's-Darling:

A Moral Mafque :

As it hath been often prefented by their Majefties Servants ; at the Cock pit in Drury Lane, with great Applaufe.

(John Foard \ and V Gent.

Tho. Decker }

LONDON,

Printed by y. Bell, for Andrew Penneycuickc, Anno Dom. 1656.

To the Right Honorable THOMAS WRIATHESLEY,

Earle of Southampton^ Lord WRIATHSLEY, of Tic/tfield, &c.

MY LORD!

jErodotus Reports that the ^Egyp tians by Wrapping their Dead in GlaJJe, prefents them lively to all Poflerity ; But your Lordjhip will do more, by the Vivifying beames of your Acceptation, Revive the parents of this Orphan Poem, and make them live to Eter nity. While the Stage florifht, the POEM liv'd by the breath of Generall Applaufes, and the Virtuall Fervor of the Court ; But fence hath langui/ht for want of heate, and now neerefhrunk up with Cold, creepes (with a Jhivering feare) to Extend it felfe at the '

290 The Epiftle Dedicatory.

Flames of your Benignity. My Lord, though itfeems Rough and Forlorn, It is the ijjue of Worthy parents > and we doubt not, but you will find it accomplifht with their Verlue. Be p leafed then (my Lord) to give it enter tainement) the more Dejlitute and needy it is, 'the Greater Reward may be Challenged by your Charity ; and Jo being Jhelter'd under your Wings, and Comforted by the Sun-Jhine of your Favour e, it will become Proofe again/I the Injuftice of Time, and like one of Demetrius Jlatues appeare frejher and freJJier to all Ages. My Lord, were we not Confident of the Excellence of the Peece, wejhould not dare to AJJume an impudence to preferr it to a P erf on of your HONOR, and KNOWN JUDGMENT; whqfe HEARTS are ready SACRIFICES to your NAME and HONOR, Being my Lord

Your Lordfhips mofl humble, and moft

Obligedly, Submiflive Servants, Theophilus Bird. Andrew Penney cuicke*

* In fome copies of this play (1656) the fame Epiftle Dedicatory is addreffed " To the Right Honorable My very good Lady, the Lady Newton, Wife to the worfhipfull Sir Henry Newton, Knight," and the name of Andrew Pen- neycuicke is alone fubfcribed. Other copies bearing the date of 1657 have the names as above.

Vpon the SUN'S DARLING.

IS he then found ? Phoebus make holliday : Tye up thy Steeds ; And let the

Cyclops Play ;

Mulceber leave thy Anvile, and be trim ; Combe thy black Muzle, be no longer Grim; Mercury be quick, with mirth furnim the

heavens,

Jove, this day let all run at fix and feavens ; And Ganimede be nimble, to the Brim Fill Boules of Nettar, that the Gods may

fwim, To folemnize their healths that did dif-

cover

The ofcure being of the Suns fon'd lover. That from the Example of their liberall

mirth We may enjoy like freedome on Earth.

John Tat ham.

U 2

READER.

IT is not here intended to prefent thee with the perfect Analogy betwixt the World and man, which was made for Man ; Nor their Co-exiftence, the World determining with Man : this I prefume hath bin by others Treated on, But drawing the Curtain of this Morall, you Jhall finde him in his pro- greffion as follow eth.

The firft Seafon.

PRefents him in the Twy-light of his age Not Pot-gun-proofe, and, yet hee'l have his page:

This fmale Knight-Errant will encounter things Above his pearch, and like the partridge Springs.

The fecond Seafon.

FOlly, his Squire, the Lady Humor brings, Who in his eare farr fweeter Novells fmgs. He follows them ; forfakes the Aprill Queene, And now the Noone-tide of his age is feene.

The third Seafon.

AS foone as Nertfd with flrength, he becoms Weake,

Folly and Humor, doth his reafon breake ; Hurries him from his Noon-tide to his even : From Summer to his Autumne he is driven.

The fourth Seafon.

ANd now the Winter, or his nonage takes him ; The fad remembrance of his errours wakes him ; Folly and Humor, Faine hee'd caft away, But they will never leave him, till hee's Clay. Thus Man as Clay Defcends, Afcends in fpirit ; Duft, goes to duft, The foule unto It's Merit.

The Names of the Perfons.

Pfuzbus the Sun,

Raybright\he funs Dar-

Lady Spring. (ling

Youth.

Delight.

Health.

Summer.

Plenty.

Pomona.

Cupid.

Fortune.

Autumne.

Bacchanalian.

Bounty.

Winter.

Conceit.

Detraction.

Time.

Prieft of the Sun.

Folly.

A Souldier.

A Spanyard.

An Italian Dancer.

A French Taylor.

A Forrefter.

jEolus.

Maskers.

3 Clowns.

THE

SunVDarling

ACT. I.

AN ALTAR.

Enter the Priefl of the Sun. Raybright dif covered Jleeping.

Et your tunes, you fweet-voic'd fpears,

overtake him :

Charm his fancies, ope his ears, now awake him. begin.

SONG.

Fancies are butjlreams of vain plea fur e :

296 The Sun's- Darling.

Ihey who by their dreams

true joies meafure; Feajling, Jlarve ; laughing, weep ; playing f mart, whiljt in Jleep fools with Jhadows fmiling, wake and finde hopes like winde, Idle hopes beguiling.

Thoughts flie away, Time hath paft 'em Wake now, awake, fee and tafle 'em.

Ray. That I might ever flumber, and enjoy Contents as happie as the foul's beft wiflies Can fancie or imagine, 'tis a crueltie Beyond example, to ufurp the peace I fate inthron'd in, who was't pluck' d mee from it.

Pr. Young man look hither.

Ray. Good ; I envie not The pomp of your high office : all preferment Of earthly glories are to me difeafes, Infecting thofe found parts which mould preferve The flattering retribution to my thankfulnefs ; The times are better to me ; there's no tafle Left on the pallate of my difcontent To catch at emptie hopes, whofe onely bleffednefs Depends on beeing miferable.

Pr. Raybright :

Thou drawfl thy great defcent from my grand patron the Sun ; whofe priefl I am.

Ray. For fmall advantage \

Hee who is high-born never mounts yon battlement Of fparkling flars, unlefs I bee in fpirit As humble as the childe of one that fweats To eat the dear-earn'd bread of honeft thrift. Pr. Haft thou not flow'd in honors 1

Ray. Honors, I'de not bee baited with my fears Of loofing em, to bee their monftrous creature An age together, 'tis befide as comfortable To die upon the embrodrie of the grafs,

The Siiri s- Darling. 297

Unminded, as to fet a world at gaze, Whilft from a pinacle I tumble down And breake my neck, to bee talk'd of, and wondered at.

Pr. You have worn rich habits.

Ray. Fine Afs-trappings. A Pedler's heir turn'd gallant, follows fafhion. Can by a crofs-legg'd Tailor be transform'd Into a Jack a napes of paffing bravery : 'Tis a flout happinefs to wear good clothes, Yet live and die a fool mew.

Pr. You have had choice Of beauties to enrich your marriage-bed.

Ray. Monkyes and Parakeetoes are as prettie To play withall, tho not indeed fo gentle. Honeftie's indeed a fine jewel, but the Indies Where it grows is hard to bee difcovered, troath fir I care for no long travels with loft labor.

Pr. Pleafures of every fence have been your fer-

vants, When as y'ave commanded them.

Ray. To threaten ruine, Corrupt the puritie of knowledg, wrefl Defires of better life, to thofe of thefe This fcurvie one, this life fcarce worth the keeping.

Pr. 'Tis melancholy, and too fond indulgence; To your own dull'd affections : fway your judgment, You could not elfe bee thus loft, or fufpedl The care your anceftor the Sun takes of yee.

Ray. The care, the fcorn hee throws on mee.

Pr. Fie, fie ;

Have you been fent out into ftrange lands, Seen Courts of forreign Kings, by them been grac'd, To bring home fuch neglect.

Ray. I have reafon for't.

Pr. Pray fhew it.

Ray. Since my coming home I have found More fweets in one unprofitable dream, Then in my lives whole pilgrimage.

298 The Surfs-Darling.

Pr. Your fantafie

Mifleads your judgment vainly, fir in brief I am to tell you, how I have receiv'd From your Progenitor, my Lord, the Sun, A token, that he vifibly will defcend From the celeftial orbe to gratine all your wilde longings.

Ray. Very likely, when pray : The world the whiles (hall be beholding to him For a long night, new married men will curfe, Tho their brides tickle for't, oh ! candle and lanthorn Will grow to an exceffive rate i'th Citie.

Pr. Thefe are but flames of a brain dif ordered. Contein your float of fpleen in feemly bounds, Your eies (hall bee your witnefs.

Ray. Hee may come.

Enter Time with a whip, whipping Follie before him.

Tim. Hence, hence, thou fhame of nature, man-

kindes foil : Time whipps thee from the world, kicks thee, and

fcorns thee.

Fol. Whip me from the world, why whip ? am I a dog, a cur, a mungrel : baw waw. Do thy worft, I defie thee.

Sings. / will rore andfquander, Cozen, and bee drunk too ; / will maintein my Pander, Keep my Horf and Punck too j brawl andfcuffle, Jhift and Jhuffle, Swagger in my Potmeah : Dammes rank with, do mad pranck with Roaring boies and oatmeals.

Pox a time, T care not, being pajl 'tis nothing :

The Sun' s-Dar ling. 299

fie be free and f pare not, f arrows are lives loathing: melancholy is but folly,

Mirth and youth are plotters. Time go hang thee, I will bang thee, Though I die in cotter s>

And what think you of this, you old doting moth- eaten bearded rafcal ; as I am Follie by the mothers fide, and a true-bred Gentleman, I will fmg thee to death, if thou vex mee : Cannot a man of fafhion, for his pleafure, put on now and then his working-day robes of humility, but he muft prefently be fubjecft to a Beadles rod of Correction ; goe mend thy felfe Caniball, 'tis not without need, I am fure the Times were never more beggerly and proud, waiting-women flant it in Caft-fuits, and their Ladies fall for em; knaves over-brave wife men, while wife men (land with cap and knee to fooles : Pitifull Time ! pitifull Time!

Ty. Out foul, prodigious, and abortive birth ; Behold the fand glafle of thy dayes is broke. Fol. Bring me another, I'le matter that too. Ty. No ', th'aft mifpent thy hours, lavifh fool,

like

The circuit of thy life, in ceafeleffe riots It is not therefore fit that thou mouldft live In fuch a Court as the Sunnes Majefly Vouchfafes to illuminate with his bright beames.

Fol. In any Court, father bald-pate, where my granam the Moon mews her homes, except the Con- fiflory Court, and there (he need not appeare ; Cuck olds Carry fuch fharp Stelettoes in their fore-heads, I'le live here and laugh at the bravery of ignorance, mauger thy fcurvie and abhominable beard.

Ty. Priefl of the Sunne 'tis neere about the

minute, thy Patron will defcend, fcourge hence this trifle ;

300 The Surfs-Darling.

Time is ne're loft, till in the common Schools

Of impudence, time meets with wilfull fooles. Exit.

Fol. Farewell 1538, I might have faid five thou- fand, but the others long enough a Confcience to be honeft Condition'd, pox on him ; it's a notable railing whipper, of a plain Time whipper.

Pre. You heard the charge he left.

Fol. I, I, a may give a charge, a has been a petty Court-holder ever fmce he was a minute old, he tooke you for a fore- man of a June.

Ray. Pray fir, what are you ?

Fol. Noe matter what, what are you 1

Ray. Not as you are, I thank my better fates, I am grand child to the Sun.

Fol. And I am Cofen german, fome two or three hundred removes off, to the Moon, and my name is Folly.

Ray. Folly, fir of what quality ?

Fol. Quality ; any quality in faftiion : Drinkeing, Whoring, Singing, Dancing, Dicing, Swearing, Roring, Foifling, Lying, Cogging, Canting, &» cetera, will you have any more.

Ray. You have a merry heart, if you can guid it.

Fol% Yes faith ; fo, fo, I laugh not at thofe whome I feare, I fear not thofe whom I love, and I love not any whom I laugh not at, pretty flrange humor, is't not?

Ray. To any one who knowes you not, it is.

Pre. You mufl a void.

Enter Recorders.

Fol. Away away, I have no fuch meaning indeed- la.

Pre. Hark the faire hour is com, draw to the

Alter,

And with amazement, reverence, and comfort Behold the broad ey'd lamp of heaven defcending, — Stand The Sunne above.

The Suns-Darling. 301

Fol. Oh brave ! Pre. Stand.

SONG.

Glorious and bright, loe here we bend Before thy throne, trembling, attend Thy f acred pleafures, be p leafed then Tojhoiver thy comforts downe, that men May freely tajle in lifes extreams The influence of thy powerfull dreams.

Ray. Let not my fate too fwiftly runne, Till thou acknowledge me thy funne. Oh theres no joy even from the wombe, Of frailty : till we be called home.

Fol. Now am I an arrant rafcall, and cannot fpeak one word for my felfe, if I were hang'd.

Sun. Ray -bright.

Pre. It calles yee, anfwer.

Ray. Lord and Father.

Sun. We know thy cares, appear to give releafe, Boldly make thy demands, for we wil pleafe To grant what ere thou faift for.

Ray. Fair beam'd fir ; I dare not greedily prefer Eternitie of earths delights, Before that dutie which invites My filial pietie, in this Your love mail perfect my hearts blifs ; If I, but for one onely year, Enjoy the feveral pleafures here, With every feafon in his kinde, Can blefs a mortal with.

Sun. I finde

Thy reafon breeds thy appetite, and grant it Thou mafter'ft thy defire, and mall not want it > To the fpring garden let him bee convey'd, And entertain'd there by that lovely maid :

302 The Surfs- Darling.

All the varieties the Spring can mew, Be fubjecl to his will.

Pre. Lights Lord, wee go.

FoL And I will follow, that am not in love with fuch fopperies. Exit.

Sun. We mull defcend, and leav a while our fphere

To greet the world ha, there does now appear

A circle in this round, of beames that mine,

As if their friendly lights would darken mine :

No let em mine out flill, for thefe are they,

By whofe fweet favors, when our warmths decay,

Even in the florms of winter, daily nourifti

Our active motions, which in Summer flourifh

By their fair quickning dews of noble loves :

Oh may you all like liars, whilft fwift time moves,

Stand fixt in firmaments of blefl contents :

Mean while recreations wee prefent,

Shall drive to pleafe ; I have the foremofl tract ;

Each feafon elfe begins and ends an Act. Exit.

A6lus Secundus.

Enter Spring, Raybright, Youth, Health, and Delight.

Spr. ~\\J Elcom the mother of the year, the

V V Spring ;

That mother on whofe back age ne're can fit. For age flill waits upon her that Spring the Nurfe ;

The Surfs-Darling. 303

Whofe milk the Summer fucks, and is made wanton.

Phyfitian to the fick, ftrength to the found ;

By whom all things above, and under-ground

Are quickned with new heat, frem blood, brave vigor,

That Spring on thy fair cheeks, in kiffes laies

Ten thoufand welcoms, free as are thofe raies

From which thy name thou borroweft : glorious

name ! Raybri^ht, as bright in perfon as in fame.

Ray. Your eies amaz'd mee firft, but now mine

ears Feel your tongues charms, in you move all the

fphears.

Oh Ladie ! would the Sun, which gave mee life, Had never fent me to you.

Spr. Why ! all my veins Shrink up, as if cold Winter were com back, And with his frozen beard have numm'd my lips To hear that figh fly from you.

Ray. Round about mee A firmament of fuch full bleffings mine, I in your fphear feem a flar more divine Than in my Fathers Chariot ; mould I ride One year about the world in all his pride.

Sp. Oh that fweet breath revives mee ! if thou

never Part'ft hence (as part thou (halt not) bee happie ever.

Ray. I know I mail.

Spr. Thou to buy, whofe ftate ? Kings would lay down their crowns, frem Youth wait, I charge thee, on my darling,

You. Madam I mall,

And on his fmoeth cheek fuch fweet rofes fet, You dill mail fit to gather then, and when Their colours fade, brave mall fpring agen.

Spr. Thou (without whom they that have hills of

gold

Are flaves and wretches) Health that canft nor be fold

304 The Sun's-Darling.

Nor bought, I charge thee make his heart a tower Guarded, for there lies the Springs paramour.

Hea. One of my hands is writing ftill in heaven, (For that's Healths librarie) t'other on the earth Is Phyficks treafurer, and what wealth thofe lay Up for my queen, all mail his will obay.

Ray. Mortalitie fure falls from me.

Spr> Thou to whofe tunes The five nice Sences dance ; thou that doft fpin Thofe golden threds all women love to winde, And but for whom, man would cut off man-

kinde.

Delight not bafe, but noble, touch thy Lire, And fill my Court with brighteft Delphick fire.

Del Hover, you wing'd Muficians, in the air ; Clouds leav your dancing, no windes flir but fair.

Hea. Leav blullring March

SONG.

What birdfofings, yetfo does wail, ' Tis Philomel the Nightingale ; yugg, Jugg, Jugg, Teruejhe cries,

And hating earth, to heauen Jhe flies Cuckow.

Ha, ha, hark, hark, the Cuckows fing Cuckow, to welcom in the Spring. Brave prick-fong ; who i£t now we hear ! 'Tis the larks f ilver leer a leer : Chirrup the Sparrow flies away ; For heefell todt ere break of day. Ha, ha, hark, hark, the Cuckcows fing Cuckow, to welcom in the Spring.

Spr* How does my fun-born fweet-heart like his

queen ; Her court, her train.

Ray. Wondrous, fuch ne're were feen.

Hea. Freftier and frefher paftimes, one delight Is a difeafe to th' wanton appetite.

The Sun' s-Dar ling. 305

Del. Mufick take Ecchoes voice, and dance quick

rounds To thine owne times in repercuffive founds. Exit.

Eccho of Cornets. Spr. Enough? I will not weary thee, pleafures

change. Thou, as the Sun in a free zodiack range.

Enter Delight.

Del. A company of rural fellows, fac'd Like lovers of your Laws, beg to bee grac'd Before your Highnefs, to prefent their fport.

Spr. Whatis't?

Del. A Morris.

Spr. Give them our Court : Stay, thefe dull birds may make thee flop thine ear, Take thou my lightning, none but Laurel here Shall fcape thy blafting ; whom thou wilt confound Smite ; let thofe Hand, who in thy choice fit crown'd.

Ray. Let thefe then, I may furfet elfe on fweets. Sound fleeps do not ftill lie in Princes meets.

Spr. Becken the Rurals in, the Country-gray Seldom ploughs treafon, mouldft thou be floln away. By great ones, thats my fear.

Ray. Fear it not Lady ; Should all the worlds black forceries bee laid To blow mee hence, I move not.

Spr. I am made Morris

In that word the earths Emprefs

Are not thefe fports too ruflick ?

Ray. No ; pretty and pleafing.

Spr. My youngeft girle, the violet-breathing May, Being told by Flora that my love dwelt here, Is com to do you fervice, will you pleafe To honor her arrivall.

Ray. I mail attend.

Spr. On then, and bid my rofie-finger'd May

Morris

306 The Suris- Darling.

Rob hills and dales, with fweets to flrow his way,

Exit.

Ray. An Emprefs, faifl thou, fain in love with me.

Fol. Shee's a great woman, and all great women wilh to be Emprefles ; her name, the Ladie Humor.

Ray. Strange name, I never faw her, knew her

not: What kinde of creature is fhee ?

Fol. Creature ! of a skin foft as Pomatum, fleek as Jellie, white as blanch'd Almonds ; no Mercers wife ever handled yard with a prettier breath ; fweet as a Monkies ; lips of cherries, teeth of pearle, eies of diamond, foot and leg as

Ray. And what's thy name ?

Fol. Tis but a folly to tell it, my name is Folly,

Ray. Humor and Folly ; to my liflning ear Thy Ladies praifes often have been fung, The trumpet founding forth her graceful beauties, Kindles high flames within me to behold her.

Fol. Shee's as hot as you for your heart.

Ray. This Ladie, call'd the Spring, is an odd trifle.

Fol. A green ficknefs thing, I came by the way of a hobby-horfe letter of Attorney, fent by my Ladie as a fpie to you : Spring a hot Ladie, a few fields and gardens lafs, :can you feed upon fallets and tanzies, eat like an Afle upon graffe every day at my Ladies, corns to you now a Goofe, now a Woodcock, nothing but fowl ; fowl pies, platters all cover'd with foul, and is not fowl very good fare ?

Ray. Yea marry is't fir, the fowl being kept

clean.

My admiration wafles it felf in longings To fee this rare piece, I'le fee her ; what are Kings,

were not their

Pleafures varied ; (hall not mine then ? mould day Lafl ever, 'twould bee loath'd as night. Change is the fawce that fharpens appetite ; The way, I'le to her.

The Suris-Darltng. 307

Fol. The way is windie and narrow ; for look you, I do but winde this Cornet, and if another anfwer it, me corns.

Ray. Be quick then Cornets.

Enter Humor, a Souldier, a Spaniard, an Italian Dance, a French Tailor.

Hum. Is this that flower the Spring fo dotes upon ?

Fol. This is that hony-fuckle, Ihe flicks in her ruffe.

Hum. A bedfellow for a Fairie.

Ray. Admir'd perfection ! You let my praifes to fo high a tune, My merits cannot reach em.

Hum. My heart-firings mail then, As mine eie gives that fentence on thy perfon ; And never was mine eie a corrupt Judg, That Judg to fave thee would condemn a world, And lofe mankinde to gain thee ; 'tis not the Spring, With all her gawdy arbors, nor perfumes Sent up in flattering incenfe to the Sun, For mooting glames at her, and for fending Whole quires of fingers to her every morn, With all her amorous fires, can heat thy blood As I can with one kiffe.

Ray. The rofe-lipp'd dawning Is not fo melting, fo delicious. Turne mee into a bird that I may fit Still fmging in fuch boughs.

Fol. What bird »

Sol. A Ring-tayl.

Hu. Thou malt be turn'd to nothing but to

mine,

My Mine of pleafures which no hand mail rifle But this, which in warm Nectar bathes the palm : Invent fom other tyres ; mufick ; flay ; none

Fol. Hoy-day.

X 2

308 The Sun's- Darling.

Hu. New gowns, frefh fafhions, I am not brave

enough ' To make thee wonder at me.

Ray. Not the Moon Riding at midnight in her criftal Chariot, With all her Courtiers in their robes of ftars Is half fo glorious.

Hu. This feather was a bird of Paradice, Shall it bee yours.

Ray. No Kingdome buies it from mee.

FoL Being in fools paradice he muft not lofe his bawble.

Ray. I am wrapt.

Fol. In your mothers fmock.

Ra. I am wrapt above mans being, in being

fpher'd

In fuch a globe of rarities, but fay Ladie What thefe are that attend you.

Hu. All my attendants Shall be to thee fworn fervants.

FoL Follie is fworn to him already, never to leav him.

Ray. Hee.

Fol. A French Gentleman that trayls a Spanifh pike. A Tailor.

Toy. Wee Mounfieur, hey nimbla upon de croffe caper, me take a de meafure of de body from de top a de noddle to de Reel and great toe, oh ftifh de fine : dis coller is cut out in anger fcurvie, oh dis beefhes pincha de bum, me put one French yard into de toder hofe.

FoL No French yards, they want a yard at lead.

Ray. Shall I bee brave then ?

Hu. Golden as the fun.

Ra. What's hee that looks fo fmickly ?

FoL A Flounder in a frying-pan, Hill skipping, one that loves mutton fo well, he alwaies carries capers about him ; his brains lie in his legs, and his legs ferve him to no other ufe then to do tricks, as if he had

The Sun's- Darling. 309

bought em of a Jugler, hee's an Italian dancer, his name—

Dan. Signior Lavolta (Meffer mio) me tefha all de bella Corantoes, galliardaes, piamettaes, capeorettaes, amorettaes dolche dolche to declamante do bona robaes de Tufcana.

Ray. I ne're mail be fo nimble.

Fol. Yes, if you powr quick-filver into your fhin- bones, as he does.

Ray. This now ?

Fol. A moft fweet Spaniard.

Spa. A Confecianador, which in your tongue is, a Comfit-maker, of Toledo, I can teach fugar to flip down your throat a million of waies.

Fol. And the throat has but one in all, oh Toledo !

Spa. In Confervs, candies, marmalades, fmkadoes, ponadoes, marablane, Bergamotu, aranxues muria, lymons, berengenas of Toledo, oriones, potataes of Malaga, and ten millions more.

Fol. Now 'tis ten millions, a Spaniard can mul tiply.

Spa. I am your fervidor.

Ray. My pallate pleas'd to, what's this laft ?

Sol. I am a Gun that can rore, two flelettoes in one (heath, I can fight and bounce too, my Ladie by mee, prefents this fword and belt to you.

Ray. Incomparable Miftreffe.

Hu. Put them on.

Sol. I'le drill you how to giue the lie, and flab in the punto, if you dare not fight, then how to vamp a rotten quarrel without ado.

Ray. How : dare not fight ! there's in me the Suns fire.

Hu. No more of this, dances awake the mufick. O yes ! Mufick !

Ray. No more of this, this fword arms me for battel.

Hu. Com then, let thou and I rife up in arms,

3io The Sun' s-Dar ling.

The field embraces, kiffes our alarms.

Fol. A dancer and a Tailor, yet (land fi.il! : ftrike up. Dance.

Enter Spring, Health, Youth, Delight.

Spr. Oh ! thou inticing ftrumpet, how durft thou Throw thy voluptuous fpells about a Temple That's confecrate to me.

Hu. Poor Spring, goodie herb-wife ; How dar'ft thou caft a glance on this rich jewel I ha bought for mine own wearing.

Spr. Bought ! art thou fold then ?

Ray. Yes, with her gifts, me buyes me with her graces.

Heal. Graces 1 A Witch.

Spr. What can me give thee.

Ray. All things.

Spr. Which I for one bubble cannot add a fea too.

Fol. And mew him a hobbie-horfe in my likenefs.

Spr. My Raybright, hear me ; I regard not thefe.

Ray. . What dowrie can you bring me ?

Spr. Dowrie ! ha ! is't com to this ? am I held

poor and bafe 1

A girdle make, whofe buckles ftretch'd toth' length Shall reach from th'artick to th'antartick pole : What ground foever thou canft with that inclofe I'le give thee freely, not a Lark that calls The morning up, mall build on any turf But fliee mail be thy tenant, call thee Lord, And for her rent pay thee in change of fongs.

Ray. I mufl turn bird-catcher.

Fol. Do you think to have him for a fong ?

Hu. Live with mee Hill, and all the meafures Plaid to by the fpheres, I'le teach thee ; Let's but thus dallie, all the pleafures The Moon beholds, her man mall reach thee.

Ray. Divinefl !

Fol. Here's a Lady.

The Surfs-Darling. 311

Spr. Is't come to who gives moft ? The felf fame Bay tree into which was turn'd : Peneian Daphne, I have ftill kept green ; That tree (hall now be thine, about it fit All the old poets with frefh Lawrel Crownd, Singing in verfe the praife of chaftity ; Hither when thou (halt come, they all (hall rife, Sweet Cantoes of thy love, and mine to fing : And invoke none but thee as Delian King.

Ray. Live by finging ballets ?

FoL Oh ! bafe, turn poet, I would not be one my felf.

Hu. Dwell in mine armes, aloft wee'l hover, And fee fields of armies fighting : Oh ! part not from mee, I will difcover There, all but books of fances writing ;

Del Not far off (lands the Hipocrenian well, Whither i'le leade thee, and but drinking there, To welcome thee, nine Mufes (hall appear : And with full bowles of knowledge thee infpire.

Ray. Hang knowledge, drowne your mufe.

Fol. I, I, or they'l drown themfelves in Sack & Claret.

Hu. Do not regard their toyes, Be but my darling, age to free thee From her curfe, (hall fall a dying ; Call me their Empreffe ; time to fee thee Shall forget his art of flying.

Ray. Oh ! my all excellence.

Sp. Speake thou for me ; I am fainting.

Heal. Leave her, take this and travel, tell the

world

I'le bring thee in to all the Courts of Kings ; Where thou (halt flay, and learn their languages ; Kiffe Ladies, revell out the nights in dancing : The day in manly paftimes ; match from time His glaffe, and let the golden fands run forth As thou (halt jogg them, riot it, go brave j Spend halfe a world, my Queen (hall beare thee out :

312 The Suris-Darling.

Yet all this while, tho thou climb hills of yeares, Shall not one wrinckle fit upon thy brow, Nor any fickneffe lhake thee ; Youth and Health, As flaves, lhall lackie by thy Chariot wheeles ; And who, for two fuch jewelles, would not fell The Eaft, and Wejl Indies j both are thine, fo that

Ray. What?

FoL All lies gallap o're the world, and not grow old, nor be fick ; a lie ; one gallant went but into France lafl day, & was never his own man fmce, another ftept but into the low Countries, and was drunk dead under the table, another did but peep into England, and it coft him more in good morrows blowne up to him under his window, by Drums and Trumpets, then his whole voiage, befides he run mad upon't.

Hu. Here's my lafl farewel, ride along with me ; I'le raife by art, out of bafe earth, a pallace , Whither thy felfe, waving a Chriflal ftream, Shall call together the mofl glorious fpirits Of all the Kings that have been in the world ; And they mail come onely to feaft with thee.

Ray Rare !

Hu. At one end of this pallace mall be heard That Mufique which gives motion to the Heaven j And in the midle Orpheus mail fit and weep, For forrow that his Lute had not the charmes To bring his faire Euredice from hell ; Then at an other end

Ray. I'le hear no more ; This ends your ftrife, you onely I adore.

Sp. Oh ! I am fick at heart ; unthankfull man 'Tis thou hafl wounded mee, farewel. Jhe is led in.

Ray, Farewell ?

FoL Health, recover her; firrah Youth, look to her.

Hea. That bird that in her nefl fleeps out the fpring

The Suns-Darling. 313

May fly in Summer, but with fickly wing. Exit.

Ray. I owe thee for this pill, Dodlor.

Hu. The Spring will Dye fure.

Ray. Let her?

Hu. If me does, Folly here is a kind of a foolifh

poet, And he (hall write her Epitaph.

Ray. Againft the morning See it then writ, and I'le reward thee for it.

Fol. It (hall not need.

Ray. 'Tis like it mall not need, this is your Folly.

Hu. He mall be ever yours.

Fol. I hope ever to be mine own folly, Hee's one of our fellows.

Hu. In triumph now I lead thee; no, be thou

Cefar, And lead me.

Ray. Neither ; wee'l ride with equall ftate Both in one Chariot, fmce we have equall fate.

Hu. Each do his office to this man your Lord ; For tho Delight, and Youth, and Health mould leave

him, This Ivory gated pallace mail receive him. Exit.

A6lus Tertius.

Enter Raybright Melancholy.

Ray. /^~\ H my deer love the Spring, I am cheated

\^J of thee ; Thou hadft a body the four elements

314 The Sun's- Darling.

Dwelt never in a fairer ; a minde princely :

Thy language like thy fingers, Mufical.

How coole wert thou in anger, in thy dyet

How temperate, and yet fumptuous ; thou wouldft not

wafte

The waight of a fad violet in exceffe ; yet Hill thy board had difties numberleffe. Dumbe beafts even lov'd thee ; once a young Lark Sate on thy hand, and gazing on thine eyes Mounted and fung, thinking them moving skies

Enter Follie.

Pol. I ha don my Lord : my Mufe has pump'd hard for an Epitaph upon the late departed Spring, and here her lines fpring up.

Ray. Read.

Fol. Read ; fo I will, pleafe you to reach mee your high ears.

Here lie's the With Spring,

Who firft taught birds tofing;

Yet in April herf elf fell a crying :

Then May growing hot

A f w eating ficknefs Jhee got.

And the firft of June lay a dying.

Yet no month can fay

But her merry daughter May

Stuck her Coffin with flowers great plenty r,

The Cuckow fung in verfe

An Epitaph dre her herfe.

But ajfure you the lines were not dainty.

Ray. No more are thine, thou Ideot ', hafl thou

none

To poifon with thy naftie iggs but mine, My matchlefs frame of nature, Creations wonder, Out of my fight.

Fol. I am not in't, if I were, you'd fee but fcurvily

The Sun' s-Dar ling. 315

you finde fault as Patrons do with books, to give nothing.

Ray. Yes ball'd one, beaftly bafe one, blockiih

away;

Vex me not fool, turn out a doors your rorer, French Tailor, and that Spanifti ginger-bread, And your Italian skipper ; then fir, your felf.

FoL My felfS Carbonado me, baftinado me, flrapado me, hang me, Tie not ftir ; poor Follie, honeft Follie, jocundary Follie forfake your Lordfhip ; no true Gentleman hates me, and how many women are given daily to me (if I would take em) fome not far off know j Tailor gon, Spanifh figg gon, all gon but I

Enter Humor.

Hu. My waiters coited off by you, you flea them ; Whence com thefe thunder-bolts, what furies haunt you?

Ray. You.

Pol. Shee !

Ray. Yes, and thou.

FoL Baw waw.

Ray. I mail grow old, difeas'd, and melancholy ; For you have robb'd me both of Youth and Health, And that delight my Spring beflow'd upon me : But for you two, I mould be wondrous good ; By you I have been cozen'd, baffled, and tornj From the embracements of the noblefl creature.

Hu. Your Spring.

Ray. Yes me, even me, onely the Spring : One morning fpent with her, was worth ten nights With ten of the prime beauties in the world : She was unhappie never, but in two fons, March a rude roring fool.

FoL And April a whining puppie. Hu. But May was a fine piece. Ray. Mirror of faces.

316 The Suns-Darling.

Fol. Indeed May was a fweet creature, and yet a great raifer of May-poles.

Hu. When will you fing my praifes thus ?

Ray. Thy praifes, that art a common creature.

Hu. Common !

Ray. Yes, common : I cannot paffe through any

Princes Court,

Through any Countrie, Camp, Town, Citie, Village, But up your name is cried, nay curs'd ; a vengeance On this your debauch' d Humor.

Fol. A Vintner fpoke thofe very words lafl night, to a company of roring boies, that would not pay their reckoning.

Ray. How many baftards hail thou %

Hu. None.

Ray. 'Tis a lie, bee judg by this your fquire elfe.

Fol. Squire ! worlhipful Mr Follie.

Ray. The Courtier has his Humor, has he not Follie?

Fol. Yes marry has he, follie ; the Courtier's humor is to bee braue, and not pay for't ; to bee proud, and no man cares for't.

Ray. Brave Ladies have their humors.

Fol. Who has to do with that, but brave Lords.

Ray. Your Citizens have brave humors.

Fol. Oh ! but their wives have tickling humors.

Hu. Yet don.

Fol. Humor Madam, if all are your baflards that are given to humor you, you have a companie of as arrant rafcals to your children, as ever went toth) gallows ; a Collier being drunk joffell'd a Knight into' the kennel, and cry' d 'twas his humor; the Knight broke his coxcomb, and that was his humor.

Ray. And yet you are not common.

Hu. No matter what I am : Raile, curfe, be frantick, get you to the tomb Of your rare Miflreffe ; dig up your dead Spring And lie with her, kiffe her ; me, have you loft.

Fol. And I fcorn to be found.

The Surfs-Darling. 3 1 7

Ray. Stay : mufl I lofe all comfort, deareft (lay ; There's fuch a deal of magick in thofe eies, I'me charm'd to kiffe thefe onely.

Fol. Are you fo ? kifle on, Fie be kifs'd fom where I warrant,

Ray. I will not leav my Follie for a world.

Fol. Nor I you for ten.

Ray. Nor thee my love, for worlds pil'd upon worlds.

Hu. If ever for the Spring you do but figh, I take my bells.

Fol. And I my hobby-horfe, — Will you be merry than, and jawfand.

Ray. As merry as the Cuckows of the fpring.

Fol. Again.

Ray. How Ladie, lies the way ?

Hu. Fie be your convoy, And bring you to the Court of the Suns queen, (Summer a glorious and majeflick creature) Her face out-mining the poor Springs, as far As a fun-beam doe's a lamp, the moon a ftar.

Ray. Such are the fpheres I'de move in, attend us I Follie. Ext.

Enter Raybright and Humor.

Ray. I mufe, my nimble Follie ftaies fo long.

Hu. Hee's quick enough of foot, and counts, (I

fwear) That minute caft away, not fpent on you.

Ray. His companie is mufick, next to yours ; Both of you are a Confort ; and I, your tunes Lull me afleep, and when I moft am fad, My forrows vanifh from me in foft dreams : But how far mufl we travel, is it our motion Puts us in this heat ; or is the air In love with us, it clings with fuch embraces, It keeps us in this warmth.

Hu. This mews, her Court

3 1 8 The Suris-Darling.

Is not far off, you covet fo to fee :

Her fubjec~ls feldom kindle needleffe fires,

The Sun lends them his flames.

Ray. Has me rare buildings.

Hu. Magnificent and curious ; every noon The horfes of the day bait there ; whilft he (Who in a golden Chariot makes them gallop In twelve hours o're the world) alights a while, To give a love-kiife to the Summer-queen.

Ray. And mail we have fine fights there 1

Hu. Oh !

Ray. And hear more ravifhing mufick ?

Hu. All the quiriflers

That learn't to fing i'th Temple of the Spring ; But her attain fuch cunning, that when the windes Rore and are mad, and clouds in antick gambols Dance o're our head, their voices have fuch charms, They'l all fland ilill to liflen

Ray. Excellent.

Enter Follie.

FoL I fweat like a pamper'd jade of Afia, and drop like a Cob-nut out of Africa

Enter a Forrefter.

For. Back : whither go you ? Oyes ! this way.

For. None muft paffe :

Here's kept no open Court ; our Queen this day Rides forth a hunting, and the air being hot,

She will not have rude throngs to flifle her back.

Exit.

Enter Summer and Delight.

Sum. And did break her heart then. Del. Yes with difdain.

The Surfs- Darling. 3 1 9

Sum. The heart of my deer mother nurfe the

Spring,

He breake his heart for't : had me not a face, Too tempting for a Jove.

Del. The graces fate, On her faire eye-lids ever, but his youth Lulling for change, fo doted on a Lady, Phantaflick, and yet fair ; a peece of wonder : They call her Humor ; and her parafite Folly, He call the fweet Spring off, and turn'd us from him ; Yet his celeflial kinfman, for young Raybright Is the Suns darling : knowing his jorneying hither To fee thy glorious Court, fends mee before To attend on you, and fpend all my hours In care for him

Enter Sun. Recorders.

Sum. Obay your charge — oh thou builder, Of me thy hand maid ! Landlord of my life, Life of my love, throne where my glories fit ; I ride in tryumph on a filver clowd ; Now I but fee thee.

Sun. Rife ; is Raybright come yet.

Del. Not yet.

Sun. Be you indulgent over him, And lavifh thou thy treafure

Enter Plenty.

Plen. Our princely Cofen Raybright, Your darling, and the worlds delight, is come.

Sun. Who with them.

Pie. A goddeffe in a woman, attended By a prating fawcie fellow, called Follie.

Sun. They'l confound him, but he mail run, Go and receive him.

Sum. Your fparkling eyes, and his arivall, drawes Heapes of admirers earth it felf will fweat

320 The Suns-Darling.

To bear our weights; vouchfafe, bright power, to

borrow

Winds not too rough from ^Eolus, to fan Our glowing faces.

Sun. I will : ho sEolus ; Unlock the jayle, and lend a winde or two, To fan my girle the Summer.

^Eo. I will.

Sun. No rorers.

^Eo. No.

Sun. Quickly. Hoboyes.

^Eo. Fly you flaves, Summer fweats ; cool her.

The Sun takes his feat above.

Enter Summer, Raybright, Humor, Plenty, Folly, Country-fellows and Wenches.

SONG.

Hay-makers, Rakers, Reapers and Mowers,

Waite on your Summer- Queen, Dreffe up with Musk-rofe her Eglentine bowers, Daffadills ftrew the greene, Sing dance and play 'Tis Holy day.

the Sun does bravely fhine

on our ears of corn. Rich as a pearle corns every girle,

this is mine, this is mine, this is mine ; Let us die, ere away they be born.

Bow to the Sun, to our Queen, and that fair one

com to behold ourfports, Each bonny lafle here is counted a rare one, as thofe in Princes Courts, thefe and wee with Countrie glee

will teach the woods to refound, and the hills with ecMs hollaw :

The Suns- Darling. 321

skipping lambs thtir bleating dams

*mongft kidsjhall trip it round, for joy thus our wenches we follow.

Winde, jollie Hunts-men, your neat Bugles Jhr illy.

Hounds make a lujlie crie : Spring up, you Faulconers, the Partridges freely, then let your brave Hawks flie. Horfes amain over ridg, over plain,

the Dogs have the Stag in chace ; 'tis afport to content a King. So ho ho, through the skies, how the proud bird flies,

andfowcing kills with a grace, Now the Deer falls, hark how they ring.

The Sun by degrees is clowded.

Sum. Leav off, the Sun is angry, & has drawn A clowd before his face.

Hu. He is vex'd to fee That proud liar fhine near you, at whofe rifmg The Spring fell fick and dy'd ; think what I told you, His coynes will kill you elfe.

Sum. It cannot— fair Prince ! Though your illuflrious name has touch'd mine ear : Till now I never faw you, nor never faw A man whom I more love, more hate.

Ray. Ha Ladie !

Sum. For him I love you, from whofe glittering

raies

You boaft your great name, for that name I hate you, Becaufe you kill'd my mother, and my nurfe.

Plen. Kill'd he my grandmother, Plenty will never Hold you byth' hand again.

Sum. You have free leave To thruft your arm into our treafurie As deep as I my felf : Plenty mail wait Still at your elbow, all my fports are yours,

4 Y

322 The Suns-Darling.

Attendants yours, my ftate and glorie's yours ;

But thefe fhall be as fun-beams from a glaffe

Reflected on you, not to give you heat

To dote on a fmooth face, my fpirit's too great. Exit.

Ray. Divinefl ! Florifh.

Hu. Let her go.

Fol. And I'le goe after, for I mufl and will have a fling at one of her plum-trees.

Ray. I ne're was fcorn'd till now.

Hu. This is that Alteza, That Rhodian wonder, gaz'd at by the Sun : I fear'd thine eies mould have beheld a face, The Moon has not a clearer, this ! a dowdie.

Fol. An Ouzle, this a queen-apple ; or a crab (he gave you.

Hu. She bid's you mare her treafure, but who keeps it.

Fol. She point's to trees great with childe with fruit, but when delivered grapes hang in ropes, but no drawing, not a drop of wine : whole ears of corn lay their ears together for bread, but the divel a bit I can touch.

Hu. Be rul'd by me once more, leave her.

Ray. In fcorn, as he doe's me.

Fol. Scorn ! If I be not deceived, I ha feen Summer go up and down with hot Codlings ; and that little baggage, her daughter Plenty, crying fix bunches of Raddifh for a peny.

Hu. Thou malt have nobler welcoms, for I'le

bring thee

To a brave and bounteous houfe - keeper, free Autumne.

Fol. Oh ! there's a lad let's go then.

Plen. Where's this Prince, my mother; for the

Indies Mufl not have you part

Ra. Mufl not ?

Sum. No ; mufl not. I did but chide thee like a whiflling winde

The Suns- Darling. 323

Playing with leavie dancers : when I told thee I hated thee, I lied ; I doat upon thee. Unlock my garden of th' Hefperides, By draggons kept (the Apples beeing pure gold) Take all that fruit, 'tis thine.

Plen. Love but my mother, I'le give thee corn enough to feed the world.

Ray. I need not golden apples, nor your corn ; What land foe're, the worlds furveyor, the Sun Can meafure in a day, I dare call mine : All kingdoms I have right to, I am free Of every Countrie ; in the four elements I have as deep a mare as an Emperor : All beads whom the earth bears are to ferv me, All birds to fing to me, and can you catch me With a tempting golden Apple.

Plen. Shee's too good for thee ; When (he was born, the Sun for joy did rife Before his time, onely to kiffe thofe eies, Which having touch'd, he ftole from them fuch ftore Of light, me mone more bright then e're before : At which he vow'd, when ever fhee did die, Hee'd match them up, and in his fitters fphere Place them, fmce me had no two ftars fo clear.

Ray. Let him now fnatch them up away.

Hu. Away, and leav this Gipfie.

Sum. Oh ! I am loft.

Ray. Love fcorn'd, of no triumph more then love can boaft. Exit.

Plen. This ftrump will confound him. Recorders.

Sum. Shee has me deluded

Enter Sun.

Sun. Is Raybright gon.

Sum. Yes, and his fpightful eies Have mot darts through me.

Sun. I, thy wounds will cure, And lengthen out thy daies, his followers gon.

Y 2

324 The Suris- Darling.

Cupid and Fortune take you charge of him.

Here thou, my brighteft Queen, muft end thy reign,

Som nine months hence Tie mine on thee again.

Exeunt.

A6lus Quartus.

Enter Pomona, It ay bright, Cupid and Fortune..

Ray. "V/'Our entertainment, Autumns bounteous

\ queen,

Have feafted me with rarities as delicate, As the full growth of an abundant year Can ripen to my palate.

Pom. They are but courtings Of gratitude to our dread Lord the Sun, From whom thou draw'il thy name; the feaft of

fruits

Our gardens yield, are much too courfe for thee j Could we contract the choice of natures plenty Into one form, and that form to contein All delicates, which the wanton fence Would relifh : or defire to invent to pleafe it, The prefent were unworthie far to purchafe A facred league of friendfhip.

Ray. I have rioted

In furfets of the ear, with various mufick Of warbling birds ; I have fmelt perfumes of rofes, And every flower with which the frem-trim'd earth

The Sun's Darling. 325

Is mantled in : the Spring could mock my fences With thefe fine barren lullabies, the Summer Invited my then ranging eies to look on Large fields of ripen'd corn, prefenting trifles Of waterim pettie dainties, but my tafle Is onely here pleas' d, t'other objects claim The ftyle of formal, thefe are real bounties.

Pom. We can tranfcend thy wifhes, whom the

creatures

Of every age and qualitie polls, madding From land to land, and fea to fea to meet, Shall wait upon thy nod, Fortune and Cupid, Love yield thy quiver, and thine arrows up To this great Prince of Time, before him Fortune, Powr out thy mint of treafures, crown him fove-

reign

Of what his thoughts can glorie to command : He mail give paiment of a roial prize To Fortune, Judgment, and to Cupids eies.

Fort. Be a Merchant, I will fraight thee With all ftore that time is bought for.

Cup. Bee a lover, I will wait thee With fucceffe in life mofl fought for.

For. Be enamored on bright honor, And thy greatneffe mail mine glorious.

Cup. Chaftitie, if thou fmile on her, Shall grow fervile, thou victorious.

Fort. Be a warrior, conqueft ever Shall triumphantly renown thee.

Cup. Be a Courtier, beauty never Shall but with her duty crown thee.

Fort. Fortunes wheel is thine, depofe me, I'me thy flave, thy power hath bound me.

Cup. Cupids mafts are thine, difpofe me, Love loves love, thy graces wound me.

Fort. Cup. Live, reign, pitie is fames jewel ; We obay, oh ! be not cruel.

Ray. You ravifli me with infinites, and lay

326 The Sun's- Darling.

A bountie of more fovereigntie and amazement, Then the Atlas of mortalitie can fupport

Enter Humor and Follit.

Hu. Whats here.

Fol. Nay pray obferve.

Ray. Be my hearts Empreffe, build your kingdom there.

Hu. With what an earneftneffe he complies.

Fol. Upon my life he means to turn Coftermonger, and is projecting how to foreftall the market ; I mail crie Pippins rarely.

Ray. Till now, my longings were ne're fatisfied, And the defires my fenfuall appetite Were onely fed with barren expectations, To what I now am fill'd with.

Fol. Yes we are fill'd and mufl be emptied, thefe wind fruits have diflended my guts into a Lenten pudding, theres no fat in them, my belly fwells, but my fides fall away, a month of fuch diet would make me a living Anatomic.

Po. Thefe are too little, more are due to him, That is the patterne of his fathers glorie ; Dwell but amongfl us, induflrie mail flrive, To make another artificiall nature ; And change all other feafons into ours.

Hu. Shall my heart breake, I can containe no longer.

Ray. How fares my lov'd Humor 1

Hu. A little flirr'd, no matter, i'le be merry : Call for fome Mufick, do not ; i'le be melancholly.

Fol. A fullen humor, and common, in a dicer that has loft all his money.

Po. Lady ! I hope 'tis no neglect of Courtefie In us, that fo difturbs you, if it rife From any difcontent, reveal the caufe, It mall be foone removed.

The Surfs- Darling. 327

Hu. Oh ! my heart, helpe to unlace my gowne.

FoL And unlace your peticoate.

Hu. Sawcie, how now ! 'tis well you have fome fweet heart, fome new frefh fweet heart ; i'me a goodly foole to be thus plaied on, flail' d, and foyl'd.

Po. Why Madam ?

We can be courteous without flaine of honor ; "Pis not the raging of a luftfull blood That we defire to tame with fatisfaclion : Nor hath his mafculine graces in our breft Kindled a wanton fire, our bounty gives him A welcome free, but chafte and honorable.

Hu. Nay 'tis all one, I have a tender heart, Come, come, let's drink.

FoL A humor in fafhion with gallants, and brought out of the low Countries.

Hu. Fie ! there's no mufick in thee, let us fing.

FoL Here's humor in the right trim, a few more fuch toies would make the little world of man runne mad, as the Puritan that fold his confcience for a May pole Florijh : flwwte.

Ray. The meaning of this mirth.

Po. My Lord is coming.

Ray. Let us attend, to humble our beft thanks, For thefe high favours

Enter Autumne & Baccanalian, Humor & Follie.

Pom. My deareft Lord, according to th' injunction Of your command, I have with all obfervance, Given entertainement to this noble flranger.

Au. The Sun-born Raybright, minion of my love, Let us be twins in heart, thy grandfires beanies Shine gracioufly upon our fruits, and vines : I am his vaffail-fervant, tributarie : And for his fake, the kingdomes I poffeffe, I will divide with thee, thou fhalt command The Lidian Tmolus, and Campanian mounts, To nodd their grape-crownd heads into thy bowles,

328 The Suris- Darling.

Exprefling their rich juice : a hundred graines Both from the Beltick and Sicilian fields ', Shall be Congefled for thy facrifice In Ceres fane, Tiber mall pay thee Apples, And Sicyon Olives, all the Choicefl fruits, Thy Fathers heat doth ripen.

Ray. Make me but treafurer Of your refpecled favours, and that honor Shall equall my ambition.

Au. My Pomona,

Speed to prepare a banquet of novelties ; This is a day of reft, and we the whiles, Will fport before our friends, and (horten time With length of wonted revels.

Pom. I obay :

Will't pleafe you Madam, a retirement From thefe extreames in men, more tollerable, Will better fit our modeflies.

Hu. I'le drink, and be a Bacchanalian ; no, I will

not ; Enter, i'le follow ; flay, i'le go before.

Po. Ee'ne what humor pleafeth. Exit. Florifhes.

Au. Raybright, a health to Phoebus Drinks.

Thefe are the Peans which we fmg to him, And ye wear no baies, our cups are onely

Crowned with Lyeus blood, to him a health

Driuks.

Ray. I muft pledge that too.

Au. Now one other health To our grand Patron, called, good fellowfhip ; Whofe livery, all our people hereabout Are call'd in. Drinks.

Ray. I am for that too.

Au. 'Tis well, let it go round, and as our cuftome

is

Of recreations of this nature, joyne, Your voices, as you drink, in lively notes ; Sing Jos unto Baccus.

Fol. Hey hoes, a god of windes, there's at

The Suris- Darling. 329

leaft four and twenty of them imprifoned in my belly ; if I figh not forth fome of them, the reft will break out at the back door; and how fweet the Mufick of their roring will be, let an Irijhman judge. Ray. He is a fongfter too.

Fol. A very foolifh one; my Mufiques naturall, and came by inheritance; my father was a French Nightingall, and my mother an Englifh wagtaile ; I was born a Cuckow in the Spring, and loft my voice in Summer, with laying my egges in a fparrowes neft ; but i'le venture for one, fill my difh j every one take his own, and when I hold up my finger, off with it. Au. Begin. Fol. Cajl away care, hee that Loves forrow,

Lengthens not a day, nor can buy to morrow : Money is trajh, and he that will fpend it, let him drink merrily, Fortune will fend

it.

Merrily, Merrily, Merrily, Oh ho. Play it off ftiffly, we may not part fo : mer rily &c.

Wine is a Charme, it heates the blood too, Cowards it will arm, if the wine be good too ; quickens the wit, and makes the back able', f comes tofubmitto the watch or Conftable. Merrily, &c.

Pots fly about, give us more Liquor ; Brothers of a rowt, our braines wilt flow quicker ;

emptie the Cask, fcore up, wee care not, fill all the Pots again, drink on, and

fpare not, Merrily, &c.

Now have I more air then ten Muficians, befides there is a whirlwinde in my braines, I could both caper and turn round.

33° The Sun' s-Dar ling.

Au. Oh ! a Dance by all meanes, Now ceafe your healths, and in an active motion Beftir yee nimbly, to beguile the hours.

Fol. I am for you in that too, 'twill jogge down the lees of thefe rowfes into a freer paffage ; but take heed of fure footing, 'tis a ilippery feafon; many men fall by rifmg, and many women are raifed by falling Dance.

Au. How likes our friend this paflime ?

Ray. Above utterance, Oh ! how have I in ignorance and dullneffe, Run through the progreffe of fo many minutes ; Accufing him, who was my lifes firft author, Of flacknefle and neglect, whilfl I have dream't The /0//y of my daies in vaine expence, Of ufeleffe tafte and pleafure ; pray my Lord Let one health pafie about, whilfl I bethink me What courfe I am to take, for being denifon In your unlimited courtefies.

Au. Devife a round, You have your liberty.

Ray. A health to Autumns felfe. And here let time hold ftill his reflleffe glaffe, That not another golden fand may fall To meafure how it paffeth.

Au. Continue here with me, and by thy prefence Create me favorite to thy faire progenitor ; And be mine heire.

Ray. I want words to expreffe my thankfullneffe.

Au. What ere the wanton Spring, When me doth diaper the ground with beauties, Toils for, comes home to Autumne, Summers fweats Either in pailuring her furlongs, reaping The cropp of bread, ripening the fruits for food. Autumnes garners houfe them, Autumnes jollities Feeds on them ; I alone in every land Traffique my ufefull merchandize, gold arid Jewells, Lordly poffeffions, are for my commodities

The Sun' s-Dar ling. 331

Morgag'd and loft, I fit Cheefe moderator

Between the cheek-parch' d Stimmer, and th' extreames

Of Winters tedious froft ; nay, in my felfe

I do containe another teaming Spring :

Surety of health, profperity of life

Belongs to Autumne, if thou then canfl hope

T' inherit immortality in frailty,

Live here till time be fpent, yet be not old.

Ray. Under the Sun, you are the yeers great em peror.

Au, On now, to new variety of feafls ; Princely contents are fit for princely guefls. Exit.

Ray. My Lord I'le follow j fure I am not well.

Flort/h.

Fol Surely I am halfe drunk, or monftroufly miflaken, you mean to flay here belike.

Ray. Whither mould I go elfe 1

Fol. Nay, if you will kill your felfe in your own defence, I'le not be of your Jurie

Enter Humor.

Hu. You have had precious pleafures, choice of drunkennefie ; will you be gon ?

Ray. I feele a warr within me, And every doubt that resolution kills Springs up a greater in the years revolution j There cannot be a feafon more delicious, When Plenty (Summers daughter) empties daily Her cornucopia , fill'd with choifeft viands.

FoL Plenties home is alwaies full in the City.

Ray. When temperate heat offends not with ex tremes ;

When day and night have their diflinguifhment With a more equall meafure.

Hu. Ha ! in contemplation.

Fol. Troubling himfelf with this windy-gutts ; this belly-aking Autumne; this Apple John Kent, and warden of Fruiterers hall.

332 The Surfs- Darling.

Ray. When the bright Sun, with kindly diftant

beames guilds ripen'd fruit.

Hu. And what fine meditation tranfports you thus, You ftudy fome Encomium Upon the beauty of the gardens Queene, You'd make the paleneffe to fupply the vacancie Of Cinthicts dark defec!.

Fol. Madam ! let but a green ficknelTe chamber maid be throughly fteel'd, if me get not a better color in one month, Tie bee forfeited to Autumne for ever, and fruite-eat my flefh. into a confumption.

Hu. Come Raybrigkt, whatfoer'e fuggeflions Have won on thy apt weakeneffe, leave thefe empty And hollow founding pleafures, that include Onely a windy fubftance of delight, Which every motion alters into ayre : Fie flay no longer here.

Ray. I muft.

Hu. You mail not, Thefe are adulterate mixtures of vain follies ; I'le

bring thee Into the Court of Winter, there thy food :

Shall not be ficklie fruits, but healthfull breathes, Strong meat and dainty.

Fol. Porke, Beefe, Mutton, (very fweet Mutton, veale Venfon, Capon, fine fat Capon, partridge, Snite, plover, larkes, Teale, admirable Teale, my Lord.

Hu. Miflery there, like to another nature, Confecls the fubflance of the choifeft fruits, In a rich candy, with fuch imitation Of forme and colour, 'twill deceive the eye : Untill the tafle be ravifhed.

Fol. Comfits and Carawaies, Marchpaines and

Marmalades Suger-plums and Pippin-pies, gingerbread and Walnuts

Hu. Nor is his bounty limited, hee'le not fpare T'exhaufl the treafure of a thoufand Indies.

The Sun9 s-Dar ling. 333

FoL Two hundred pound fuppers, and neither fidlers nor broken glaffes reckoned, befides, a hundred pound a throw, ten times together, if you can hold out fo long.

Ray. You tell mee wonders ! Be my conduc~lreffe, I'le flie this place in fecret ; Three quarters of my time is almoft fpent, The lafl remains to crown my full content. Now if I fail, let man's experience read me ; 'Twas Humor, join'd with Follie, did miflead me.

Hu. Leav this naked feafon, Wherein the very trees make off their locks, It is fo poor and barren.

FoL And when the hair fall's off, I have heard a Poet fay, 'tis no good fign of a found bodie.

Ray. Com let's go taft'e old Winter's frem de lights,

And fwell with pleafures our big appetites. The Summer, Autumne, and the Spring, As 'twere conjoin'd in one conjugal ring ; An embleme of four Provinces we fway, Shall all attend our paftimes night and day ; Shall both be fubjedl to our glorious flate, While wee enjoy the bleflihgs of our fate : And fmce wee've notice that fom barbarous fpirits Mean to oppofe our entrance, if by words They'l not defift, wee'l force our way with fwords.

Exeunt.

334 TJie Siiris-Darling.

A6lus Quintus.

Enter three Clowns.

i. TT Ear you the news neighbor?

»• J

2. £jL Yes, to my grief neighbor ; they fay our Prince Raybright is coming hither, with whole troops and trains of Courtiers \ wee'r like to have a fine time on't neighbors.

3. Our Wives and Daughters are, for they are fure to get by the bargain, tho our barn be emptied, they will be fure to bee with barn for't : Oh ! thefe Courtiers, neighbors, are peftilent knaves ; but ere I'le fuffer it, I'le pluck a Crow with fom of em.

1. Faith neighbor let's lay our heads together, and refolve to die like men, rather then live like beads.

2. I. like horn-beafts, neighbor; they may talk and call us Rebells, but a figg for that, 'tis not a fart matter ; let's be true amongfl our felvs, and with our fwords in hand refift his entrance— —

Enter Winter.

Wint. What fuch murmurings does your gall bring

forth,

Will you prov't true, no good corns from the North j Bold fawcie mortals, dare you then afpire With fnow and ice to quench the fphere of fire : Are your hearts frozen like your clime, from thence All temperate heat's fled of obedience :

The Sun's- Darling. 335

How durft you elfe with force think to withftand

Your Princes entrie into this his land ;

A Prince who is fo excellently good,

His virtue is his honor, more then blood ;

In whofe clear nature, as two Suns, do rife

The attributes of Merciful, and Wife :

Whofe laws are fo impartial, they muft

Be counted heavenly, caufe th'are truly juft :

Who does with princely moderation give

His fubje6ls an example how to live ;

Teaching their erring natures to dire<5l

Their wills, to what it ought mofl to affect :

That as the Sun does unto all difpence

Heat, light, nay life from his full influence,

Yet you wilde fools, poffefl with gyant rage,

Dare, in your lawleffe furie, think to wage,

War againft heaven, and from his mining thone

Pull Jove himfelf, for you to tread upon ;

Were your heads circled with his own green Oak,

Yet are they fubject to his thunder- ftroak ;

And he can fmk fuch wretches as rebell,

From heaven's fublime height, into the depth of hell.

1. The divel a can as foon, we fear no colors, let him do his worft ; there's many a tall fellow befides us, will die rather then fee his living taken from them, nay even eat up ; all things are grown fo dear, there's no enduring more mouths then our own, neighbor.

2. Thou 'rt a wife fellow, neighbor, prate is but prate ; they fay this Prince too would bring new laws upon us, new rights into the Temples of our gods, and that's abominable, wee'l all bee hang'd firfl — —

Wint. A moft fair pretence, To found rebellion upon confcience ; Dull flubborn fools, whofe perverfe judgments ftill Are govern'd by the malice of your will, Not by indifferent reafon, which to you Corns, as in droughs the elemental dew Does on the parch'd earth, 'twets, but does not give Moiflure enough to make the plants to live :

336 The Sun's Darling.

Things void of foul, can you conceive that he, Whofe every thought's an ac~l of pietie, Who's all religious, furnifh'd with all good That ever was compris'd in flefh and blood, Cannot direct you in the fitteft way To ferv thofe powers, to which himfelf does pay True zealous worfhip, nay's fo near ally'd To them, himfelf muft needs be deified

Enter Polite.

Fol. Save you Gentlemen ! 'tis very cold, you live in froft, y'ave Winter flill about you.

2. What are you fir ?

Fol. A Courtier fir ; but you may guefle, a very foolifh one, to leav the bright beams of my Lord, the Prince, to travel hither ; I have an Ague on me, do you not fee me (hake : Well, if our Courtiers, when they com hither, have not warn) young wenches, good wines, and fires to heat their bloods, 'twill freez into an Apoplexie ; farewell froft, lie go feek a fire to thaw me, I'me all ice I fear already. Exit.

i. Farewel and be hang'd, ere fuch as thefe mail eat what we have fweat or, wee'l fpend our bloods ; com neighbors, let's go call our company together, and go meet this Prince he talks fo of.

3 . Som mall have but a fowr welcom of it, if my Crab-tree cudgel hold here.

Wint. 'Tis, I fee, Not in my power to alter deftinie : You'r mad in your rebellious mindes, but hear What I prefage, with understanding clear : As your black thoughts are miflie, take from me This as a true and certain augurie, This Prince mail com, and by his glorious fide Lawrel-crown'd conqueft fhall in triumph ride, Arm'd with the juftice that attend's his caufe, You mail with penitence embrace his laws : Hee to the frozen northern clime mall bring

The Suns- Darling. 337

A warmth fo temperate, as (hall force the Spring Ufurp my privilege, and by his Ray Night mail bee chang'd into perpetual day. Plentie and happineffe mail ftill increafe, As does his light, and Turtle-footed Peace Dance like a Fairie through his realms, while all That envie him mall like fwift Comets fall, By their own fire confum'd, and glorious he Ruling, as 'twere, the force of deflinie, Shall have a long and prosperous reign on earth, Then flie to heaven, and give a new flar birth.

Florifh.

Enter Raybright, Humor, Bountie, Winter and Delight.

But fee, our flar appear's, and from his eie Flie thoufand beams of fparkling majeflie. Bright fon of Phebus ! welcom, I begin To feel the ice fal from my crifled skin ; For at your beams the Waggoner might thow His Chariot, axell'd with Riphean fnow ; Nay, the flow moving North-flar having felt Your temperate heat, his ificles would melt.

Ray. What bold rebellious Catives dare difturb The happie progreffe of our glorious peace. Contemne the Juftice of our equall lawes, Prophane thofe facred rights, which ftil muft bee Attendant on monarchall dignitie. I came to frolick with you, and to chear Your drouping foules by vigor of my beams ; And have I this flrange welcom ! reverend Winter ! I 'me come to be your guefl ; your bounteous free Condition does affure, I mail have A welcom entertainment.

Win. Illuftrious fir ! I am ignorant How much expreffion my true zeale will want To entertain you fitlie, yet my love, And hartie dutie, mail be farr above My outward welcome, to that glorious light

* 7

338 The Sun's- Darling.

Of heaven, the Sunne which chaces hence the night ;

I am fo much a vaffaile, that Tie flrive,

By honoring you, to keep my faith alive

To him, brave Prince, tho you, who do inherit

Your fathers cheerefull heat, and quickning fpirit ;

Therefore as I am Winter, worne and fpent

So farre with age, I am Tymes monument ;

Antiquities example, in my zeale,

I, from my youth, a fpan of Tyme will fleale

To open the free treafures of my Court,

And fwell your foul with my delights and fport.

Ray. Never till now Did admiration beget in me truly The rare match'd twins at once, pittie and pleafure ; So royall, fo aboundant in earth's bleffings, Should not partake the comfort of thofe beames, With which the Sun beyond extent doth cheere The other feafons, yet my pleafures with you, From their falfe charmes, doth get the ftart as fan- As heaven's great lamp from every minor ftarr.

Bonn. Sir ! you can fpeak wel, if your tongue

deliver

The meffage of your heart, without fome cuning Of reflraint, we may hope to enjoy The lafting riches of your prefence hence, Without diftruft or change.

Ray. Winters fweet bride,

All Conquering Bounty, queen of harts, life's glory, Natures perfection j whom all love, all ferve ; To whom Fortune, even in extreame's a flave, When I fall from my dutie to thy goodnefs, Then let me be ranck'd as nothing.

Bonn. Come, you flatter mee.

Ray. I flatter you ! Why Madam ? you are Bounty ; Sole daughter to the royall throne of peace.

Hu. He minds not mee now.

Ray. Bounties felf! For you he is no fouldier dares not fight, No Scholar he, that dares not plead your merites,

The Sun' s-Dar ling. 339

Or fludy your beft Sweetnefs, fhould the Sun, Eclips'd for many yeares, forbeare to fhine Upon the bofome of our naked paflures, Yet where you are, the glories of your fmiles Would warm the barren grounds, arm hartlefs mifery, And cherifh defolation. Deed I honor you, And as all others ought to do, I ferve you.

Hu. Are thefe the rare fights, thefe the promis'd Complements.

Win. Attendance on our revells, let delight Conjoyn the day with fable-footed night; Both mall forfake their orbes, and in one fphere Meet in foft mirth, and harmlefle pleafures here ; While plump Lyeus mail, with garland crown'd Of triumph-Ivie, in full cups abound Of Cretan wine, and mall dame Ceres call To waite on you, at Winters feftivall : While gawdy Summer, Autumne, and the Springe, Shall to my Lord their Choycefl viands bring. Wee'l robb the fea, and from the fubtill ayre, Fetch her inhabitant, to fupply our fare. That were Apidous here, he in one night Should fate with dainties his ftrong appetite. Begin our revells then, and let all pleafure

Flow like the Ocean, in a boundleffe meamre

Florijh.

Enter Conceit, and Detraction.

Con. Wit and pleafure foft attention, Grace the fports of our invention.

De. Conceit peace, for Detraction Hath already drawn a faction, Shall deride thee.

Con. Antick leave me ; For in laboring to bereave me Of a fcholars praife, thy dotage Shall be hia at.

De. Here's a hot age j

z 2

34-O The Suns-Darling.

When fuch pettie penmen covet Fame by folly, on, I'le prove it Scurvie by thy part, and trie thee By thine owne wit.

Con. I dene thee, Here are nobler Judges, wit Cannot fuffer where they fit.

De. Pri'thee foolifh Conceit, leave off thy fet- fpeeches, and come to the conceit it felfe in plain lan guages ; what goodly thing is't, in the name of laughter 1

Con. Detraction doe thy worfl, Conceit appears, In honour of the Sunne, their fellow-friend, Before thy cenfure ; know then that the fpheres, Have for a while refigned their orbes, and lend Their feats to the Four Elements, who joyn'd With the Four known Complexions, have atton'd A noble league, and feverally put on Materiall bodies ; here amongft em none Obferves a difference ; Earth and Ayre alike Are fprightly aclive ; Fire and Water feek No glory of preheminence ; Phlegm and Blood, Choler and Melancholy, who have flood In contrarieties, now meet for pleafure, To entertain Time in a courtly meafure.

De. Impoffible and improper ; firfl to perfonate infenfible Creatures, and next to compound quite op- pofite humors ; fie, fie, fie, i'ts abominable.

Con. Fond ignorance ! how darefl thou vainly

fcan

Impoffibility ; what reignes in man Without diforder ; wifely mixt by nature, Maskers. To fafhion and preferve fo high a creature.

De. Sweete fir ! when (hall our mortall eyes be hold this new peece of wonder ; We muft gaze on the ftarres for it doubtleffe.

Con. See, thus the clouds flie off, and run in chafe, When the Sun's bountie lends peculiar grace.

The Maskers dif cover* d.

The Sun's- Darling. 341

De. Fine ifaith ; pretty, and in good earned ; but firrah fcholar ; will they come down to6 ?

Con. Behold em well, the foremoft reprefents Ayr, the moft fportive of the Elements.

De. A nimble rafcall, I warrant him fome Alder- mans fon ; wonderous giddy and light-headed ; one that blew his patrimony away in feather and Tobacco.

Con. The next near him is Fire.

Det. A cholerick gentleman, I mould know him, a younger brother and a great fpender, but feldom or never carries any money about him ; he was begot when the fign was in Taurus, for he rores like a Bull, But is indeed a Bell-weather.

Con. The third in rank is Water.

Det. A phlegmatick cold piece of fluff, his father me thinks mould be one of the Dunce-table, and one that never drunk flrong beer in's life but at feflival times, and then he caught the heart-burning a whole vacation and half a Term after.

Con. The fourth is Earth.

Det. A fhrewd plodding-pated fellow, and a great lover of news ; I guefle at the reft, Blood is placed near Air, Choler near Fire, Phlegme and Water are fworn brothers, and fo are Earth and Melancholic.

Con. Fair nymph of Harmonic, be it thy task To fmg them down, and rank them in a mask. —

SONG. See the Elements confpire,

Nimble Air doe's court the Earth, Water doe's commix with Fire, To give our Princes pleafure birth ; Each delight, each joy, eachfweet, In one compofition meet. All thefeafons of the year, Winter doe's invoke the Spring, Summer doe's in pride appear, Autumn forth its fruits doth bring, And with emulation pay Their tribute to this Holy-day ;

34 2 T-he Sun's- Darling.

In which the Darling of the Sun is com. To make this place a new Elifium.

Wint. How do thefe pleafures pleafe ?

Hu. Pleafures !

Boun. Live here,

And be my Lord's friend, and thy fports fhall vary A thoufand waies, invention fliall beget Conceits as curious as the thoughts of change Can aim at.

Hu. Trifles : progreffe o're the year Again my Raybright, therein like the Sun, As he in heaven runs his circular courfe, So thou on earth run thine, for to be fed With ftale delights, breeds dulneffe and contempt ; Think on the Spring.

Ray. She was a lovely Virgin.

Wint. My roial Lord ! Without offence, be pleas' d but to afford Me give you my true figure, do not fcorn My age, nor think, caufe I appear forlorn, I ferve for no ufe, 'tis my fharper breath Does purge groffe exhalations from the earth ; My frofls and fnows do purifie the air From choking foggs, makes the skie clear and

fair :

And though by nature cold and chill I be, Yet I am warm in bounteous charitie ; And can, my Lord, by grave and fage advice, Bring you toth' happie fhades of Paradice.

Ray. That wonder ; Oh ! can you bring me thither ?

Wint. I can direct and point you out a path.

Hu. But where's the guide ^ Quicken thy fpirits, Raybright, I'le not leav thee, Wee'l run the felf fame race again, that happineffe Thefe lazie, fleeping, tedious winters nights Becom not noble aciion.

Ray. To the Spring Recorders.

The Suris- Darling. 343

I am refolv'd Oh ! what flrange light appears ;

The Sun is up fure. The Sun above.

Sun. Wanton Darling look, and worfhip with amazement.

Ray. Yes ! gracious Lord.

Sun. Thy fands are numbred, and thy glafie of

frailtie

Here runs out to the lafl : here in this mirror Let man behold the circuit of his fortunes ; The feafon of the Spring dawns like the Morning, Bedewing Childhood with unrelilh'd beauties Of gawdie fights ; the Summer, as the Noon, Shines in delight of Youth, and ripens ftrength To Autumns Manhood, here the Evening grows, And knits up all felicitie in follie ; Winter at lafl draws on the Night of Age ; Yet flill a humor of fom novel fancie Untafted, or untry'd, puts off the minute Of refolution, which mould bid farewel To a vain world of wearineffe and forrows. The powers from whom man do's derive his pedigree Of his creation, with a roial bountie Give him health, youth, delight for free attendants To re<flifie his carriage : to be thankful Again to them, Man mould cafheer his riots, His bofom whorifh fweet-heart, idle Humor ; His Reafons dangerous feducer, Follie ; Then mail like four flreight pillars, the four Elements Support the goodly ftruc~ture of mortalitie ; Then (hall the four Complexions, like four heads Of a clear river, flreaming in his bodie, Nourifh and comfort every vein and finew. No fickneffe of contagion, no grim death Of deprivation of healths real bleffings Shall then affright the creature built by heaven, Referv'd to immortalitie, henceforth In peace go to our Altars, and no more Queflion the power of fupernal greatneffe, But given us leav to govern as wee pleafe

344 The Surfs-Darling.

Nature, and her dominion, who from us,

And from our gracious influence, hath both being

And prefervation ; no replies but reverence.

Man hath a double guard, if time can win him ;

Heavens power above him, his own peace within him.

FINIS

The Witch of Edmonton :

A known true STORY. Composed into

A TRAGI-COMEDY

By divers well-efteemed Poets ; William Rowley, Thomas Dekker, John Ford, &e.

Acted by the Princes Servants, often at the

Cock-Pit in Drury-Lane, once at

Court, with fmgular Applaufe.

Never printed till now.

London, Printed by J. Cottrel, for Edward Blackmore, at the Angel in Paul's Church-yard. 1658.

Adors Names

Sir Arthur Clarington. Old Thorney, a Gentleman. Old Carter, a rich Yeoman. Old Banks, a Country-man.

™ M£Z°' \ two Country-men. W. Hamluc. f

Three other Country-men. SuitorS t0

Frank, Thorney1 s Son.

Young Cuddy Banks, the Clown.

Four Morice-Dancers .

Old Ratcliffe.

Saivgut, an old Fidler.

Poldavis, a Barbers boy.

Jufiice.

Conjlable.

Officers.

Servingmen.

Dog, a Familiar.

A Spirit.

Women.

Mother Sawyer, the Witch. Anne, Ratclffis Wife.

Winnifride, Sir Arthur's Maid.

The whole Argument is this Dyjlich.

FOrc'd Marriage, Murder; Murder, Blood re quires : Reproach, Revenge ; Revenge, Hells help defires.

PROLOGUE.

TBe Town of Edmonton hath lent the Stage A Devil and a Witch, both in an age. To make comparifons it were uncivil, Between fo even a pair, a Witch and DeviL But as the year doth with his plenty bring As well a latter as a former Spring} So has this Witch enjoy d the firft, and reafon Prefumes Jhe may partake the other feaf on : In Afts deferving name, the Proverb fays, Once good, and euer : Why notfo in Plays 1 Why not in this ? fmce (Gentlemen) we flatter No Expectation : here is Mirth and Matter.

Mr. Bird.

The Witch of Edmonton.

ACT. I. Scaen. I.

Enter Frank Thorney, Winnifride with-child.

Frank. f~~^ Ome Wench ; why here's a bufmefs

Vs^ foon difpatch'd.

Thy heart I know is now at eafe : thou needft not Fear what the tattling Goffips in their cups Can fpeak againil thy fame : thy childe fhall know Who to call Dad now.

Win. You have difcharg'd the true part of an

honeft man ;

I cannot requefl a fuller fatisfaction Then you have freely granted : yet methinks 'Tis an hard cafe, being lawful man and wife, We mould not live together.

Frank. Had I fail'd In promife of my truth to thee, we mull Have then been ever fundred ; now the longefl Of our forbearing cithers company, Is onely but to gain a little time

350 The Witch of Edmonton.

For our continuing thrift, that fo hereafter

The Heir that lhall be born may not have caufe

To curfe his hour of birth, which made him feel

The mifery of beggery and want ;

Two Devils that are occafions to enforce

A mameful end. My plots aim but to keep

My father's love.

Win. And that will be as difficult To be preferv'd, when he mail underftand How you are married, as it will be now, Should you confefs it to him.

Frank. Fathers are

Wonne by degrees, not bluntly, as our matters, Or wronged friends are j and befides, I'll ufe Such dutiful and ready means, that ere He can have notice of what's paft, th' inheritance To which I am born Heir, mall be affur'd : That done, why let him know it ; if he like it not, Yet he mall have no power in him left To crofs the thriving of it.

Win. You who had

The conquell of my Maiden-love, may eafily Conquer the fears of my diftrufl. And whither Muft I be hurried 1

Frank. Prithee do not ufe A word fo much unfuitable to the conflant Affeclions of thy Husband : thou (halt live Neer Waltham Abbey, with thy Unkle Selman : I have acquainted him with all at large : He'll ufe thee kindly : thou malt want no pleafures, Nor any other fit fupplies whatever Thou canfl in heart defire.

Win. All thefe are nothing Without your company.

Frank. Which thou malt have Once every month at lead.

Win. Once every month ! Is this to have a Husband ?

Frank. Perhaps oftner :

The Witch of Edmonton. 351

That's as occafion ferves.

Win. I, I, in cafe

No other Beauty tempt your eye, whom you Like better, I may chance to be remembred, And fee you now and then. Faith, I did hope Youl'd not have us'd me fo : 'tis but my fortune. And yet, if not for my fake, have fome pity Upon the childe I go with, that's your own. And, 'lefs you'll be a cruel hearted Father, You cannot but remember that. Heaven knows how.

Frank. To quit which fear at once, As by the ceremony late perform'd, I plighted thee a faith, as free from challenge, As any double thought ; Once more in hearing Of Heaven and thee, I vow, that never henceforth Difgrace, reproof, lawlefs affections, threats, Or what can be fuggefted 'gainfl our Marriage, Shall caufe me falfifie that Bridal-Oath That bindes me thine. And, Winnifride, whenever The wanton heat of youth by fubtle baits Of beauty, or what womans Art can practice, Draw me from onely loving thee ; let Heaven Inflict upon my life fome fearful mine. I hope thou dofl believe me.

Win. Swear no more ; I am confirm'd, and will refolve to do What you think mod behoofeful for us.

Frank. Thus then j make thyfelf ready : at the

furthefl houfe

Upon the Green, without the Town, your Unckle Expects you. For a little time farewel.

Win. Sweet, We (hall meet again as foon as thou canft poflibly 1

Frank. We mail . One kifs. Away.

Ent. Sir Art. Clarington. Sir Art. Frank Thorney.

352 The Witch of Edmonton.

Frank. Here Sir.

Sir Art. Alone ? then mud I tell thee in plain terms, thou haft wrong'd thy Matter's houfe bafely and lewdly.

frank. Your houfe, Sir?

Sir Art. Yes, Sir, if the nimble devil That wanton'd in your blood, rebell'd againft All rules of honeft duty. You might, Sir, Have found out fome more fitting place then here, To have built a Stewes in. All the Country whifpers How mamefully thou haft undone a Maid, Approv'd for modeft life, for civil carriage, Till thy prevailing perjuries entic'd her To forfeit fhame. Will you be honeft yet? Make her amends and marry her ?

Frank. So, Sir,

I might bring both my felf and her to beggery ; And that would be a fhame worfe then the other.

Sir Art. You mould have thought on this before,

and then

Your reafon would have overfway'd the paflion Of your unruly luft. But that you may Be left without excufe, to falve the infamy Of my difgraced houfe, and 'caufe you are A Gentleman, and both of you my fervants, I'll make the Maid a portion.

Frank. So you promis'd me Before, in cafe I married her. I know Sir Arthur Clarington deferves the credit Report hath lent him ; and prefume you are A Debtor to your promife : but upon What certainty mall I refolve ? Excufe me For being fomewhat rude.

Sir Art. 'Tis but reafon. Well Frank, what thinkft thou of 200!. And a continual friend ?

Fra. Though my poor fortunes Might happily prefer me to a choice Of a far greater portion ; yet to right

The Witch of Edmonton. 353

A wronged Maid, and to preferve your favour, I am content to accept your proffer.

Sir Art. Art thou ?

Frank. Sir, we fhall every day have need to

employ The ufe of what you pleafe to give.

Sir Art. Thou malt have't.

Fran. Then I claim your promife. We are man and wife.

Sir Art. Already?

Frank. And more then fo, I have promis'd her Free entertainment in her Unkle's houfe, Neer Waltham Abbey, where me may fecurely Sojourn e, till time and my endeavours work My fathers love and liking.

Sir Art. Honefl Frank.

Frank. I hope, Sir, you will think I cannot keep

her Without a daily charge.

Sir Art As for the money, 'Tis all thine own ; and though I cannot make

thee

A prefent payment, yet thou malt be fure I will not fail thee.

Frank. But our occafions.

Sir Art. Nay, nay, talk not of your occafions, truft my bounty : it fhall not fleep. Hail married her, yfaith Frank*

:Tis well, 'tis pairing well : then Winnifride, Once more thou art an honefl woman. Frank, Thou haft a Jewel. Love her ; (he'll deferve it. And when to Waltham ?

Frank. She is making ready. Her Unkle flays for her.

Sir Art. Moil provident fpeed. Frank, I will be a friend, and fuch a friend. Thou'lt bring her thither ?

Fran. Sir, I cannot : newly

4 A A

354 Tke Witch of Edmonton.

My father fent me word I ftiould come to him.

Sir Art Marry, and do : I know thou haft a wit To handle him.

Frank. I have a fuit t'ye.

Sir Art. What is't ? Any thing, Frank, command it.

Frank. That you'll pleafe, By Letters to affure my Father, that I am not married.

Sir Art. How 1

Frank. Some one or other Hath certainly inform'd him that I purpos'd To marry Winnifride; on which he threatned To dif-inherit me, to prevent it, Lowly I crave your Letters, which he feeing Will credit \ and I hope ere I return, On fuch conditions as I'll frame, his Lands Shall be affiuM.

Sir Art. But what is that to quit My knowledge of the marriage ?

Frank. Why you were not A witnefs to it.

Sir Art. I conceive : and then, His Land confirmed, thou wilt acquaint him throughly With all that's paft.

Frank. I mean no lefs.

Sir Art. Provided, I never was made privy to it.

Frank. Alas, Sir, Am I a talker 1

Sir Art. Draw thy felf the Letter, I'll put my hand to it. I cctomend thy policy Th'art witty, witty Frank ; nay, nay, 'tis fit, Difpatch it.

Frank. I mail write effectually. Exit.

Sir Art. Go thy way Cuckow ; have I caught the young man ?

The Witch of Edmonton. 355

One trouble then is freed. He that will feaft At others cofl, muft be a bold-fac'd gueft.

Enter Win. in a riding-ftiit.

Win. I have heard the news, all now is fafe. The worfl is pad.

Sir Art. Thy lip, wench : I muft bid Farewel, for fafhions fake ; but I will vifit thee Suddenly, Girl. This was cleanly carried : Ha ! was't not Win 1

Win. Then were my happinefs, That I in heart repent I did not bring him The Dower of a Virginity. Sir, forgive me ; I have been much to blame. Had not my Laun-

drefs

Given way to your immoderate wafle of Vertue, You had not with fuch eagernefs purfu'd The error of your goodnefs.

Sir Art. Dear, dear Win. I hug this Art of thine, it mews how cleanly Thou canil beguile in cafe occafion ferve. To practice. It becomes thee, now we mare Free fcope enough, without coritrole or fear. To interchange our pleafures ; we will furfeit In our embraces, Wench. Come, tell me, when Wilt thou appoint a meeting ?

Win. What to do ?

Sir Art. Good, good, to con the leffon of our

loves, Our fecret game.

Win. O blufli to fpeafc it further ! As y'are a noble Gentleman, forget A fin fo monflrous : 'tis not gently done, To open a cur'd wound. I know you fpeak For trial ; troth you need not.

Sir Art. I for trial 1 Not I, by this good Sun-mine. >Y£

Win. Can you name

A A 2

356 The Witch of Edmonton.

That fyllable of good, and yet not tremble, To think to what a foul and black intent, You ufe it for an Oath ? Let me refolve you, If you appear in any Vifitation That brings not with it pity for the wrongs Done to abufed Thorney, my kinde husband ; If you infect mine ear with any breath That is not throughly perfum'd with fighs For former deeds of luft : May I be curs'd Even in my prayers, when I vouchfafe To fee or hear you. I will change my life, From a loofe whore, to a repentant wife.

Sir Art, Wilt thou turn monfler now ? art not

afham'd

After fo many months to be honeft at laft 1 Away, away, fie on't.

Win. My refolution Is built upon a Rock. This very day Young Thnrney vow'd with Oaths not to be

doubted,

That never any change of love mould cancel The bonds in which we are to either bound, Of lading truth. And mail I then for my part Unfile the facred Oath fet on Record In Heaven's Book ? Sir Arthur, do not ftudy To add to your lafcivious lufl, the fin Of Sacriledge : for if you but endeavour By any unchafle word to tempt my conftancy, You flrive as much as in you lies to mine A Temple hallowed to the purity Of holy Marriage. I have faid enough : You may believe me.

Sir Ant. Get you to your Nunnery, There freeze in your old Cloyfler. This is fine.

Win. Good Angels guide me. Sir, you'l give me

leave To weep and pray for your converfion.

Sir Art. Yes, away to Waltham. Pox on your honefly.

The Witch of Edmonton. 357

Had you no other trick to fool me ? Well, You may want mony yet.

Win. None that I'll fend for To you, for hire of a damnation. When I am gone, think on my juft complaint : I was your Devil, O be you my Saint ! Exit Win.

Sir Art. Go, go thy ways, as changeable a bag gage

As ever cozen'd Knight. I'm glad I'm rid of her. Honeft ? marry hang her. Thorney is my Debtor, I thought to have paid him too : but fools have for tune. Exit S. A.

SC^EN. 2.

Enter Old Thorney, and Old Carter.

O. TJior. You offer Mr. Carter, like a Gentleman, I cannot finde fault with it, 'tis fo fair.

O. Cart. No Gentleman, I, Mr. Thorney, fpare the Mafterfhip, call me by my name, John Carter • Mafter is a title my Father, nor his before him, were acquainted with. Honeft Jiertf or/hire Yeomen, fuch an one am I ; my word and my deed mail be proved one at all times. I mean to give you no fecurity for the Marriage-money.

O. Thor. How ? no fecurity ? although it need not, fo long as you live ; yet who is he has furety of his life one hour 1 Men, the Proverb fays, are mortal : elfe, for my part, I diftruft you not, were the fum double.

O. Cart. Double, trebble, more or lefs ; I tell you, Mr. Thorney, I'll give no fecurity. Bonds and Bills are but Tarriers to catch Fools, and keep lazy Knaves bufie ; my fecurity mail be prefent payment. And we here, about Edmonton, hold prefent payment as fure as an Alderman's Bond in London, Mr. 2 homey.

358 The Witch of Edmonton.

O. Thor. I cry you mercy, Sir, I underftood you not.

O. Cart. I like young Frank well, fo does my Sufan too. The Girl has a fancy to him, which makes me ready in my Purfe. There be other Suitors within, that make much noife to little purpofe. If Frank love Sue, Sue fhall have none but Frank. 'Tis a mannerly Girl, Mr. Thorney, though but an homely man's Daughter. There have worfe Faces look'd out of black Bags, Man.

O. Thor. You fpeak your minde freely and ho- neftly. I marvel my Son comes not : I am fure he willl be here fometime to day.

O. Cart. To day or to morrow, when he comes he (hall be welcome to Bread, Beer and Beef, Yoeman's fare ; we have no Kickfhaws : full Dimes, whole belly-fulls. Should I diet three days at one of the flender City-Suppers, you might fend me to Barber- Surgeons Hall the fourth day, to hang up for an Ana tomy Here come they that

How now Girls 1 every day play-day with you T

Enter Warbeck with Sufan, Somerton with Katherine.

Valentine's day too, all by couples ? Thus will young folks do when we are laid in our Graves, Mr. Thorney. Here's all the care they take. And how do you finde the Wenches, Gentlemen ? have they any minde to a loofe Gown and a ftrait Shooe 1 Win 'em, and wear 'em. They (hall chufe for themfelves by my confent.

Warb. You fpeak like a kinde Father. Sue, thou hearefl the liberty that's granted thee. What fayeft thou 1 wilt thou be mine ?

Suf. Your what, Sir ? I dare fwear, never your wife.

Warb. Canft thou be fo unkinde? confidering how dearly I affect thee ; nay, dote on thy perfec tions.

TJie Witch of Edmonton, 359

Suf. You are fludied too Scholar-like in words : I underftand not. I am too courfe for fuch a Gallants love as you are.

Warb. By the honour of Gentility.

Suf. Good Sir, no fwearing : yea and nay with us Prevails above all oathes you can invent

Warb, By this white hand of thine.

Suf. Take a falfe oath ? Fie, fie, flatter the wife : fools not regard it ; and one of thefe am 1.

Warb. Doft thou defpife me ?

O. Cart. Let 'em talk on, Mr. Thorney. I know Sue's minde. The Flye may buz about the Candle, he mail but finge his Wings when all's done. Frank, Frank is he has her heart.

Som. But mail I live in hope, Kate ?

Kat. Better fo, then be a defperate man.

Som. Perhaps thou thinkfl it is thy Portion I level at : wert thou as poor in Fortunes, As thou art rich in Goodnefs ; I would rather Be Suitor for the Dower of thy Vertues, Then twice thy Father's whole Eflate ; and prithee Be thou refolved fo.

Kat. Mr. Somerton, it is an eafie labour to deceive A Maid that will believe Mens fubtil promifes : Yet I conceive of you as worthily As I preftime you do deferve.

Som. Which is

As worthily in loving thee fmcerely, As thou art worthy to be fo belov'd.

Kat. I (hall finde time to try you.

Som. Do, Kate,- do : And when I fail, may all my joys forfake me.

O. Cart. Warbeck and Sue are at it flill. I laugh to my felf, Mr. Thorney, to fee how earneftly he beats the Bum, while the Bird is flown into anothers bofom. A very unthrift, Mr. Thorney ; one of the Country roaring Lads : we have fuch as well as the City, and as arrant Rake-hells as they are, though not fo nimble at their prizes of wit. Sue knows the

360 The Witch of Edmonton.

Raskal to an hairs breadth, and will fit him accord ingly.

O. Thor. What is the other Gentleman ?

O. Cart. One Somerton, the honefter man of the two, by 5/. in every ftone-weight. A civil Fellow. He has a fine convenient Eftate of land in Weft-ham by Effex. M. Ranges that dwells by Enfield, fent him hither. He likes Kate well. I may tell you, I think me likes him as well. If they agree, I'll not hinder the match for my part. But that Warbeck is

fuch another , I ufe him kindly for Mr. Somer-

toris fake : for he came hither firfl as a Companion of his. Honeft men, Mr. Thorney, may fall into Knaves company, now and then.

Warb. Three hundred a yeer loynture, Sue.

SuJ. Where lies it, by Sea or by Land ? I think by Sea.

Warb. Do I look like a Captain ?

Suf. Not a whit, Sir.

Should all that ufe the Seas be reckon'd Captains, There's not a Ship mould have a Scullion in her To keep her clean.

Warb. Do you fcorn me, Mrs. Suf an ? Am I a fubject to be jeer'd at ?

Suf. Neither

Am I a property for you to ufe As ftale to your fond wanton loofe difcourfe. Pray Sir be civil.

Warb. Wilt be angry, Wafp ?

O. Cart. God-a-mercy, Sue. Shee'll firk him on my life, if he fumble with her.

Enter Frank.

Mr. Francis Thorney, you are welcome indeed. Your Father expected your coming. How does the right worfhipful Knight, Sir Arthur Clarington, your Matter 1

Frank. In health this morning. Sir, my duty.

The Witch of Edmonton. 361

O. Thor. Now You come as I could wifh.

Warb. Frank Thorney, ha !

Suf. You mud excufe me,

Frank. Vertuous Mrs. Suf an. Kinde Mrs. Katherine. Gentlemen, to both

Salutes them. Good time o'th' day.

Som. The like to you.

Warb. 'Tis he.

A word, Friend. On my life, this is the Man Stands fair in croffing Suf an s love to me.

Som. I think no lefs. Be wife, and take no notice

on't. He that can win her, befl deferves her.

Warb. Marry A Servingman ? mew.

Som. Prethee Friend no more.

O. Cart. Gentlemen all, there's within a flight Dinner ready, if you pleafe to tafte of it: Mr. Thorney, Mr. Francis, Mr. Somerton. Why Girls t what, Hufwives, will you fpend all your forenoon in tittle-tattles \ away : It's well yfaith. Will you go in, Gentlemen ?

O. Thor. We'll follow prefently : my Son and I Have a few words of bufmefs.

O. Cart. At your pleafure. Ex. the rett.

O. Thor. I think you guefs the reafon, Frank, for

which I fent for you.

Frank. Yes, Sir.

O. Thor. I need not tell you With what a labyrinth of dangers dayly The befl part of my whole Eftate's encumbred : Nor have I any Clew to winde it out, But what occafion proffers me. Wherein If you mould faulter, I mall have the fhame, And you the lofs. On thefe two points relie

362 The Witch of Edmonton.

Our happinefs or ruine. If you marry

With wealthy Carter'?. Daughter, there's a Portion

Will free my Land : all which I will inflate

Upon the marriage to you. Otherwife,

I mufl be of neceflity enforc'd

To make a prefent fale of all : and yet,

For ought I know, live in as poor diflrefs,

Or worfe, then now I do. You hear the fum :

I told you thus before. Have you confidered on't 1

Frank: I have, Sir. And however I could wifh To enjoy the benefit of fmgle Freedom, For that I finde no difpofition in me To undergo the burthen of that care That Marriage brings with it \ Yet to fecure And fettle the continuance of your Credit, I humbly yield to be directed by you In all commands.

O. Thor. You have already us'd Such thriving proteftations to the Maid, That me is wholly yours. And fpeak the truth, You love her, do you not ?

Frank. 'Twere pity, Sir, I mould deceive her.

O. Thor. Better y'had been unborn. But is your love fo fteady that you mean, Nay, more, defire to make her your Wife ?

Frank. Elfe, Sir, It were a wrong not to be righted/

O. Thor. True, It were : and you will marry her 1

Frank. Heaven profper it : I do intend it.

O. Thor. O thou art a Villain ! A Devil like a Man. Wherein have I Offended all the Powers fo much, to be Father to fuch a gracelefs godlefs Son 1

Frank. To me, Sir, this ? O my cleft heart !

O. Thor. To thee,

The Witch of Edmonton. 363

Son of my curfe. Speak truth, and blufh, thou mon-

fter,

Hafl thou not married Winnifride 1 a Maid Was fellow-fervant with thee.

Fra. Some fwift fpirit Has blown this news abroad. I muft out face it.

O. Thor. D'you fludy for excufe? why all the

country Is full on't.

Fra. With your licenfe, 'tis not charitable, I am fure it is not fatherly, fo much To be o'refway'd with credulous conceit Of meer impoflibilities. But Fathers Are priviledg'd to think and talk at pleafure.

O. Thor. Why canft thou yet deny thou haft no wife ?

Frank. What do you take me for ? an Atheift ? One that nor hopes the bleffednefs of life Hereafter, neither fears the vengeance due To fuch as make the Marriage-bed an Inne, Which Travellers day and night, After a toylfome lodging leave at pleafure ? Am I become fo infenfible of lofmg The glory of Creations work ? My foul !

0 I have liv'd too long.

O. Thor. Thou haft, diflembler ; Dareft thou perfevere yet 1 and pull down wrath As hot as flames of hell, to ftrike thee quick Into the Grave of horror ? I believe thee not. Get from my fight.

Fran. Sir, though mine innocence Needs not a ftronger witnefs then the cleernefs Of an unperim'd confcience ; yet for that

1 was enform'd, how mainly you had been Poflefs'd of this untruth, To quit all fcruple Pleafe you perufe this Letter : 'tis to you.

O. Thr. From whom?

Fran. Sir Arthur Clarington my Mafter.

364 The Witch of Edmonton.

O. Thor. Well, Sir.

Fran. On every fide I am diffracted ; Am waded deeper into mifchief, then vertue can avoid. But on I muft : Fate leads me : I will follow. There you read what may confirm you.

O. Thor. Yes, and wonder at it. Forgive me, Frank. Credulity abus'd me. My tears exprefs my joy : and I am forry I injur'd innocence.

Frank. Alas ! I knew your rage and grief pro ceeded from your love to me : fo I conceiv'd it,

O. Thor. My good Son, I'll bear with many faults in thee hereafter. Bear thou with mine.

Frank. The peace is foon concluded.

Enter Old Carter.

O. Cart. Why Mr. Tfwrney, d'ye mean to talk out your dinner 7 the Company attends your coming. What muft it be, Mr. Frank, or Son Frank ? I am plain Dunftable,

O. Thor. Son, Brother, if your Daughter like to have it fo.

Frank. 1 dare be confident, me's not alter'd From what I left her at our parting laft : Are you, fair Maid ?

Suf. You took too fure poffeffion Of an engaged heart.

Frank. Which now I challenge.

O. Cart. Marry and much good may it do thee, Son. Take her to thee. Get me a brace of Boys at a burthen, Frank. The nurfmg mail not ftand thee in a pennyworth of Milk. Reach her home and fpare not. When's the day ?

O. Thor. To morrow, if you pleafe. To ufe cere mony

Of charge and cuftome, were to little purpofe : Their loves are married fail enough already.

The Witch of Edmonton. 365

O. Cart. A good motion. We'll e'en have an houfhold Dinner ; and let the Fiddlers go fcrape. Let the Bride and Bridegroom dance at night together : no matter for the Guefls. To morrow, Sue, to mor row. Shall's to Dinner now ?

O. Thor. We are on all fides pleas'd, I hope.

Suf. Pray Heaven I may deferve the bleffing fent

me. Now my heart is fettled.

frank. So is mine.

O. Cart. Your Marriage-money mall be receiv'd before your Wedding-mooes can be pull'd on. Bleff ing on you both.

Frank. No man can hide his (hame from Heaven

that views him. In vain he flees, whofe deftiny purfues him.

Exeunt Omnes.

ACT. II. Scaen. i.

Enter Elizabeth Sawyer, gathering flicks.

Sawy. \ Nd why on me t why mould the envi

j[-\ ous world

Throw all their fcandalous malice upon me 1 'Caufe I am poor, deform'd and ignorant, And like a Bow buckl'd and bent together, By fome more flrong in mifchiefs then my felf? Muft I for that be made a common fink, For all the filth and rubbifh of Men's tongues To fall and run into ? Some call me Witch ; And being ignorant of my felf, they go About to teach me how to be one : urging, That my bad tongue (by their bad ufage made fo) Forefpeaks their Cattle, doth bewitch their Corn,

366 The Witch of Edmonton.

Themfelves, their Servants, and their Babes at

nurfe. This they enforce upon me : and in part

Enter O. Banks.

Make me to credit it. And here comes one Of my chief Adverfaries.

O. Bank. Out, out upon thee, Witch.

Sawy. Doft call me Witch ?

O. Bank. I do, Witch, I do : and worfe I would, knew I name a more hateful. What makeft thou upon my ground ?

Sawy. Gather a few rotten flicks to warm me.

O. Bank. Down with them when I bid thee, quickly ; I'll make thy bones rattle in thy skin elfe.

Sawy. You won't, Churl, Cut-throat, Mifer : there they be. Would they fluck crofs thy throat, thy bowels, thy maw, thy midriff.

O. Bank. Sayft thou me fo 1 Hag, out of my ground.

Sawy. Dofl flrike me, flave ? curmudgeon, now thy bones aches, thy joynts cramps, and convulfions flretch and crack thy fmews.

O. Bank. Curfmg, thou Hag ! take that, and that.

Exit.

Sawy. Strike, do, and wither'd may that hand and

arm Whofe blows have lam'd me, drop from the rotten

Trunk.

Abufe me ! beat me ! call me Hag and Witch ! What is the name ? where and by what Art learn'd ? What fpells, what charms, or invocations 1 May the thing call'd Familiar be purchas'd ?

Enter Young Banks, and three or four more. Y. Bank. A new head for the Tabor, and filver

The Witch of Edmonton. 367

tipping for the Pipe. Remember that, and forget not five lelh of new Bells.

1. Double Bells : Crooked Lane ye (hall have 'em flraight in. Crooked Lane : double Bells all, if it be poffible.

Y. Bank. Double Bells ? double Coxcombs j Tre bles : buy me Trebles, all Trebles : for our purpofe is to be in the Altitudes.

2. All Trebles ? not a Mean 1

Y. Bank. Not one : The Morrice is fo caft, we'll have neither Mean nor Bafe in our company, Fellow Rowland.

3. What ? nor a Counter ?

Y. Bank. By no means, no hunting Counter ; leave that to Envile Chafe Men : all Trebles, all in the Altitudes. Now for the difpofmg of Parts in the Mor rice, little or no labour will ferve.

2. If you that be minded to follow your Leader, know me, an ancient Honor belonging to our houfe, for a Fore-horfe, team, and for gallant in a Morrice : my Father's Stable is not unfurnim'd.

3. So much for the Fore-horfe : but how for a good Hobby-horfe ?

Y. Bank. For a Hobby-horfe ? Let me fee an Almanack. Midfummer-HAoon, let me fee ye. When the Moon's in the full, then's wit in the wane, No more. Ufe your beft skill. Your Morrice will fuffer an Eclipfe.

1. An Eclipfe?

Y. Bank. A flrange one.

2. Strange?

Y. Bank. Yes, and moft fudden. Remember the Fore-gallant, and forget the Hobby-horfe. The whole body of your Morrice will be darkned. There be of us. But 'tis no matter. Forget the Hobby-horfe.

i. Cuddy Banks, have you forgot fmce he pac'd it from Envile Chafe to Edmontonl Cuddy, honeft Cuddy, caft thy fluff.

Y. Bank. Suffer may ye all. It mail be known, I

368 The Witch of Edmonton.

can take mine eafe as well as another Man. Seek your Hobby-horfe where you can get him.

1. Cuddy, honeft Cuddy , we confefs, and are forry for our -neglect,

2. The old Horfe (hall have a new Bridle.

3. The Caparifons new painted.

4. The Tail repair'd.

i. The Snaffle and the Bof(es new faffron'd o're.

1. Kinde :

2. Honeft :

3. Loving, ingenious :

4. Affable Cuddy.

Y. Bank. To (hew I am not flint ; but affable, as you fay, very well fluft, a kinde of warm Dowe or Puff-pafle, I relent, I connive, mod affable Jack : let the Hobby-horfe provide a (Irong back, he (hall not want a belly when I am in 'em. But Uds me, Mother Sawyer.

1. The old Witch of Edmonton. If our mirth be not crofs'd.

2. Blefs us, Ctiddy, and let her curfe her tother eye out What doft thou ?

Y. Bank. Vngirt, unbleffd, fays the Proverb. But my Girdle (hall ferve a riding knit : and a fig for all the Witches in Chriftendom. What wouldft thou ?

1. The Divel cannot abide to be crofs'd.

2. And fcorns to come at any man's whiftle.

3. Away.

4. With the Witch.

Omn. Away with the Witch of Edmonton.

Ex. inflrangepoftur. Sawy. Still vex'd? ftill tortur'd ? That Curmudgeon

Banks

Is ground of all my fcandal. I am (hunn'd And hated like a ficknefs : made a fcorn To all degrees and fexes. I have heard old Bel dames

Talk of Familiars in the (hape of Mice, Rats, Ferrets, Weafels, and I wot not what,

The Witch of Edmonton. 369

That have appear'd, and fuck'd, lome fay, their

blood. But by what means they came acquainted with

them,

I'm now ignorant : would fome power good or bad Inftru(ft me which way I might be reveng'd Upon this Churl, I'd go out of my felf, And give this Fury leave to dwell within This ruin'd Cottage, ready to fall with age : Abjure all goodnefs : be at hate with prayer ; And ftudy Curfes, Imprecations, Blafphemous fpeeches, Oaths, deteiled Oaths, Or anything that's ill ; fo I might work Revenge upon this Mifer, this black Cur, That barks, and bites, and fucks the very blood Of me, and of my credit. 'Tis all one, To be a Witch, as to be counted one. Vengeance, Ihame, ruine, light upon that Canker.

Enter Dog.

Dog. Ho ! have I found thee curfmg ? now thou

art mine own.

Sawy. Thine ? what art thou ? Dog. He thou haft fo often importun'd to appear

to thee, the Devil. Sawy. Blefs me ! the Devil ? Dog. Come, do not fear, I love thee much too

well

To hurt or fright thee. If I feem terrible, It is to fuch as hate me. I have found Thy love unfeign'd : have feen and pitied Thy open wrongs, and come out of my love To give thee juft revenge againft thy foes. Sawy. May I believe thee ? Dog. To confirm't, command me Do any mifchief unto Man or Bead,

* BE

370 The Witch of Edmonton.

And I'll effect it, on condition,

That uncompell'd thou make a deed of Gift

Of Soul and Body to me.

Sawy. Out, alas ! My Soul and Body ?

Dog. And that inftantly, And leal it with thy blood : if thou deniefl, I'll tear thy body in a thoufand pieces.

Sawy. I know not where to feek relief : But

mail I

After fuch Covenants feal'd, fee full revenge On all that wrong me ?

Dog. Ha, ha, filly woman ! The Devil is no Iyer to fuch as he loves. Didft ever know or hear the Devil a Iyer To fuch as he affects 1

Sawy. When I am thine, at leafl fo much of me, As I can call mine own.

Dog. Equivocations 1 Art mine or no ? fpeak, or I'll tear.

Sawy. All thine.

Dog. Seal't with thy blood.

See, now I dare call thee mine ; [Sucks her arm,

thunder and lightning. For proof, command me, inflantly I'll run, To any mifchief, goodnefs can I none.

Sawy. And I defire as little. There's an old Churl, one Banks —

Dog. That wrong'd thee : he lam'd thee, call'd thee Witch.

Sawy. The fame : firft upon him I'ld be re- veng'd.

Dog. Thou malt : Do but name how.

Sawy. Go, touch his life.

Dog. I cannot.

Sawy. Haft thou not vow'd ? Go, kill the Have.

Dog. I wonnot.

Sawy. I'll cancel then my gift.

The Witch of Edmonton. 371

Dog. Ha, ha !

Sawy. Dod laugh ? Why wilt not kill him I

Dog. Fool, becaufe I cannot. Though we have power, know, it is circumfcrib'd, And ti'd in limits : though he be curs'd to thee, Yet of himfelf he is loving to the world, And charitable to the poor. Now Men That, as he, love goodnefs, though in fmalleft

meafure,

Live without compafs of our reach. His Cattle And Corn, I'll kill and mildew : but his life (Until I take him, as I late found thee, Curfmg and fwearing) I have no power to touch.

Saw. Work on his corn and cattle then.

Dog. I (hall.

The Witch of Edmonton mail fee his fall. If (he at lead put credit in my power, And in mine onely ; make Orifons to me, And none but me.

Saw. Say how, and in what manner ?

Dog. I'll tell thee, when thou wifhed ill j Corn, Man or Bead, would fpoyl or kill, Turn thy back againfl the Sun, And mumble this (hort Orifon : If thou to death or Jhame purfue 'em> SanElibicetur nomen tuum.

Sawy. If thou to death or Jhame purfue 'em, Sanftibecetur nomen tuum.

Dog. Perfect. Farewel. Our fird-made promifes We'll put in execution againfl Banks. Exit.

Sawy. Contaminetur nomen tuum. I'm an expert

Scholar ;

Speak Latine, or I know not well what Language, As well as the bed of 'em. But who comes here 1

Enter Y. Ba.

The Son of my word Foe. To death purfue *em, Et fanftabecetur nomen tuum,

B B 2

372 The Witch of Edmonton.

Y. Bank. What's that me mumbles? the Devils

Pater nqfler ? Would it were elfe. Mother Sawyer, Good morrow.

Sawy. Ill morrow to thee, and all the world, that flout a poor old woman. To death purfue 'em, and fanftabacetur nomen tuum.

Y. Bank. Nay, good Gammer Sawyer, what e're it pleafes my Father to call you, I know you are

Sawy. A Witch.

Y. Bank. A Witch ? would you were elfe yfaith.

Sawy. Your Father knows I am by this,

Y. Bank. I would he did.

Sawy. And fo in time may you.

Y. Bank. I would I might elfe. But Witch or no Witch, you are a motherly woman : and though my Father be a kinde of God blefs us, as they fay, I have an earned fuit to you ; and if you'll be fo kinde to ka me one good turn, I'll be fo courteous as to kob you another.

Sawy. What's that ? to fpurn, beat me, and call me Witch, as your kinde Father doth ?

Y. Bank. My Father ? I am afham'd to own him, If he has hurt the head of thy credit, there's money to buy thee a Playfter : and a fmall courtefie I would require at thy hands.

Sawy. You feem a good young Man, and I muft diffemble, the better to accomplifh my revenge. But for this hlver, what wouldfl have me do^? bewitch thee?

Y. Bank. No, by no means ; I am bewitch'd already. I would have thee fo good as to unwitch me, or witch another with me for company.

Sawy. I underfland thee not. Be plain, my Son.

Y. Bank. As a Pike-flaff, Mother : you know Kate Carter.

Sawy. The wealthy Yeomans Daughter. What of her ?

Y. Bank. That fame Party has bewitch'd me.

The Witch of Edmonton. 373

Sawy. Bewitch'd thee ?

Y. Bank. Bewitch'd me, Hifce auribus. I faw a little Devil flie out of her eye like a Burbolt, which flicks at this hour up to the Feathers in my heart. Now my requefl is, to fend one of thy what d'ye call 'ems, either to pluck that out, or flick another as fail in hers. Do, and here's my hand, I am thine for three lives.

Sawy. We mail have fport. Thou art in love with her.

Y. Bank. Up to the very hilts, Mother.

Sawy. And thou'ldfl have me make her love thee too.

Y. Bank. I think fhe'll prove a Witch in earnefl. Yes, I could finde in my heart to flrike her three quarters deep in love with me too.

Sawy. But dofl thou think that I can do't, and I alone ?

Y. Bank. Truely, Mother Witch, I do verily be lieve fo : and when I fee it done, I fhall be half per- fwaded fo too.

Sawy. It's enough, What Art can do, be fure of : turn to the Wefl, and whatfoe'er th'ou hearefl or feefl, fland filent, and be not afraid. Sheftamps.

Enter the Dog ; he fawns and leaps upon her.

Y. Bank. Afraid, Mother Witch ? turn my face to the Wefl 1 I faid I mould always have a back-friend of her ; and now it's out. And her little Devil mould be hungry, come fneaking behinde me, like a cowardly Catchpole, and clap his Talents on my Haunches. Tis woundy cold fure. I dudder and make like an Afpen- leaf every joynt of me.

Sawy. Tofcandal and dif grace purfue *em, Et fanffabicetur nomen tuum. How now, my Son, how is't 1 Exit Dog.

Y. Bank. Scarce in a clean life, Mother Witch. But did your Gobblin and you fpout Latine together ?

Sawy. A kinde of Charm I work by. Didll thou hear me ?

Y. Bank. I heard I know not the Devil what

374 The Witch of Edmonton.

mumble in a fcurvy bafe tone, like a Drum that hac' taken cold in the head the laft Mufler. Very com fortable words : what were they ? and who taught them you 1

Sawy. A great learned Man.

Y. Bank. Learned Man ? learned Devil it was as foon ? But what ? what comfortable news about the Party ?

Sawy. Who? Kate Carter 1 I'll tell thee, thou knowfl the Style at the Weft-end of thy Father's Peafe-Field, be there to morrow-night after Sun-fet ; and the firfl live thing thou feeft, be fure to follow, and that mall bring thee to thy Love.

Y. Bank. In the Peafe-field ? Has me a minde to Codlings already ? The firft living thing I meet, you fay, mail bring me to her.

Sawy. To a fight of her, I mean. She will feem wantonly coy, and flee thee : but follow her clofe, and boldly : do but embrace her in thy arms pnce, and me is thine own.

Y. Bank. At the Style, at the Weft-end of my Father's Peafe-land, the ftrft live thing I fee, follow and embrace her, and fhe mail be thine. Nay, and I come to embracing once, fhe mall be mine j I'll go neer to make at Eaglet elfe. Exit.

Sawy. A ball well bandied : now the fet's half

won : The Father's wrong I'll wreak upon the Son. Exit.

SCJEN 2.

Enter Carter, Warbeck, Somerton.

Care. How now Gentlemen, cloudy 1 I know Mr. Warbeck, you are in a fog about my Daughters marriage,

The Witch of Edmonton. 375

Warb. And can you blame me, Sir 1

Cart. Nor you me juftly. Wedding and hanging are tied up both in a Proverb ; and Deftiny is the Juggler that unties the knot. My hope is, you are referved to a richer fortune then my poor Daughter.

Warb. However, your promife.

Cart. Is a kinde of debt, I confefs it.

Warb. Which honeft men mould pay.

Cart. Yet fome Gentlemen break in that point, now and then, by your leave, Sir.

Som. I confefs thou haft had a little wrong in the Wench : but patience is the onely falve to cure it. Since Thorney has won the Wench, he has moft rea- fon to wear her.

Warb. Love in this kinde admits no reafon to wear her.

Cart. Then love's a fool, and what wife man will take exception ?

Som. Come, frolick Ned, were every man matter of his own fortune, Fate might pick flraws, and Def tiny go a wool-gathering.

Warb. You hold yours in a firing though. 'Tis well : but if there be any equity, look thou to meet the like ufage e're long,

Som. In my love to her Sifter Katherine 1 Indeed, they are a pair of Arrows drawn out of one Quiver, and mould flie at an even length, if me do run after her Sifter.

Warb. Look for the fame mercy at my hands, as I have received at thine.

Som. She'll keep a furer compafs. I have too ftrong a confidence to miftruft her.

Warb. And that confidence is a winde, that has blown many a married Man afhore at Cuckolds Haven, I can tell you : I wifh yours more profperous though.

Cart. Whate're you wifti, I'll matter my promife to him.

Warb. Yes, as you did to me.

376 The Witch of Edmonton.

Cart. No more of that, if you love me. But for the more affurance, the next offer'd occafion mail confummate the Marriage : and that once feal'd,

Enter Young Thorney and Sufan.

Som. Leave the mannage of the reft to my care. But fee, the Bridegroom and Bride comes ; the new pair of Sheffeild-TLmves fitted both to one ftieath.

Warb. The Sheath might have been better fitted,, if fome body had their due. But —

Cart. No harfh language, if thou loveft me, Frank Thorney has done —

Warb. No more then I, or thou, or any man? things fo ftanding, would have attempted.

Som. Good morrow Mr. Bridegroom.

Warb. Come, give thee joy. Mayft thou live long and happy in thy fair choice.

Y. Thor. I thank yee Gentlemen. Kinds Mr, Warbeck, I find you loving.

Warb. Thorney, that creature, (much good do?

thee with her)

Vertue and beauty hold faire mixture in her. She's rich no doubt in both. Yet were me fairer, Thou art right worthy of her. Love her, Thorney, 'Tis noblenefs in thee, in her but duty. The match is fair and equal : the fuccefs I leave to cenfure. Farewell, Mrs. Bride : Till now elected, thy old fcorne deride. • Exit.

Som. Good Mr. Thorney.

Cart. Nay, you mall not part till you fee the Barrels run a-tilt, Gentlemen. Exit.

Su. Why change you your face, fweet-Heart ?

Y. Thor. Who ? I ? For nothing.

/Suf. Dear, fay not fo : a Spirit of your conftancy cannot endure this change for nothing. I have ob~ fen/4 ftrange variations in you.

Y. Thor. In me 1

$uf, Jn you, Sir. Awake : you feem to dream,

The Witch of Edmonton. 377

and in your fleep you utter fudden and diflrac~led ac cents, like one at enmity with peace. Dear loving husband, if I may dare to challenge any interefl in you, give me the reafon fully : you may truft my breft as fafely as your own.

Y. Thor. With what ? you half amaze me, prithee.

Suf. Come, you mall not ; indeed, you mail not (hut me from partaking the leaft diflike that grieves you. I am all yours.

Y. Thor. And I all thine.

Suf. You are not, if you keep the lead grief from me : but I find the caufe ; it grew from me.

Y. Thor. From you ?

Suf. From fome diftafte in me or my behaviour : you are not kinde in the concealment 'Las, Sir, I am young, filly, and plain ; more flrange to thofe contents a wife mould offer. Say but in what I fail, I'll ftudy fatisfacftion,

Y- Thor. Come, in nothing.

Suf. I know I do. Knew I as well in what, you mould not long be fullen. Prithee Love, if I have been immodeft or too bold, fpeak't in a frown : if peevifhly too nice, fhew't in a fmile. Thy liking is the glafs by which I'll habit my behaviour.

Y* Thor. Wherefore doft weep now 1

Suf. You, Sweet, have the power To make me pafTionate as an April-&xy : Now fmile, then weep ; now pale, then crimfon red. You are the powerful Moon of my bloods Sea, To make it ebb or flow into my face, As your looks change.

Y' Thor. Change thy conceit, I prithee : Thou art all perfection : Diana herfelf Swells in thy thoughts, and moderates thy beauty. Within thy left eye amorous Cupid fits Feathering Love-mafts, whofe golden heads he dip'd

In thy chafte breft. In the other lies

Bluming Adonis fcarft in modefties.

And flill as wanton Cupid blows Love-fires,

378 The Witch of Edmonton.

Adonis quenches out unchafte defires.

And from thefe two I briefly do imply

A perfect Embleme of thy modefty.

Then, prithee Dear, maintain no more difpute ;

For where thou fpeakft, it's fit all tongues be mute.

Suf. Come, come, thofe golden firings of flattery Shall not tie up my fpeech, Sir ; I mud know The ground of your difturbance,

Y. Thor. Then look here ; For here, here is the fen in which this Hydra Of difcontent grows rank.

Suf. Heaven fheild it : where ?

Y. Thor. In mine own bofom : here the caufe has

root ;

The poyfoned Leeches twift about my heart, And will, I hope, confound me.

Suf. You fpeak Riddles.

Y. Tho. Take't plainly then : 'twas told me by a

woman

Known andfapprov'd in Palmeftry, I fhould have two wives.

Suf. Two wives? Sir, I take it exceeding likely. But let not conceit hurt you : you are afraid to bury me?

Y. Thor. No, no, my Winnifride.

Suf. How fay you ? Winnifride ? you forget me.

Y. Thor. No, I forget my felf, Suf an.

Suf. In what ?

Y. Thor. Talking of wives, I pretend Winnifride^ A Maid that at my Mothers waited on me Before thy felf.

Suf. I hope, Sir, me may live to take my place. But why mould all this move you ?

Y. Thor. The poor Girl, (he has't before thee, and that's the Fiend torments me.

Suf. Yet why mould this raife mutiny within you ? fuch prefages prove often falfe : or fay it mould be true?

Y. Thor. That I mould have another wife ?

The Witch of Edmonton, 379

Suf. Yes, many ; if they be good, the better.

Y. Thor. Never any equal to thee in goodnefs.

Suf. Sir, I could wifti I were much better for

you ;

Yet if I knew your fate Ordain'd you for another, I could wifh (So well I love you, and your hopeful pleafure) Me in my grave, and my poor vertues added To my fucceffor.

Y. Thor. Prithee, prithe, talk not of death or graves ; thou art fo rare a goodnefs, as Death would rather put itfelf to death, then murther thee. But we, as all things elfe, are mutable and changing.

Suf. Yet you ftill move in your firft fphere of dif- content Sweet, chafe thofe clouds of forrow, and mine cleerly on me.

Y. Thor. At my return I will.

Suf. Return ? ah me ! will you then leave me ?

Y. Thor. For a time I muft : but how ? as Birds their young, or loving Bees their Hives, to fetch home richer dainties.

SuJ. Leave me? Now has my fear met its

effea. You mall not, coft it my life, you (hall not.

Y. Thor. Why? yourreafon?

Suf. Like to the Lap-wing have you all this while with your falfe love deluded me ? pretending counter feit fenfes for your difcontent, and now at laft it is by chance ftole from you.

Y. Thor. What ? what by chance ?

Suf. Your pre-appointed meeting of fmgle corn- bate with young War beck.

Y. Thor. Hah !

Suf. Even fo : diffemble not ; 'tis too apparent. Then in his look I read it : deny it not ; I fee't ap parent : coft it my undoing, and unto that my life, I will not leave you.

Y. Thor. Not until when f

Suf. Till he and you be Friends.

380 The Witch of Edmonton.

Was this your cunning 1 and then flam me off With an old Witch, two Wives, and Winnifride ? Y'are not fo kinde indeed as I imagin'd.

Y. Thor. And you more fond by far then I ex-

peaed.

It is a vertue that attends thy kinde. But of our bufmefs within : and by this kifs, I'll anger thee no more ; troth Chuck I will not.

Suf. You mail have no juft cauie.

Y. TJior. Dear Sue, I mail not. Exeunt.

ACT. III. Scaen. I.

Enter Cuddy Banks, and Mor ice-dancers.

i. TV T Ay, Cuddy, prithee do not leave us now : I \ if we part all this might, we mall not meet before day.

i. I prithee Banks, let's keep together now.

Clow. If you were wife, a word would ferve : but as you are, I muft be forc'd to tell you again, I have a little private bufmefs, an hours work ; it may prove but an half hours, as luck may ferve ; and then I take horfe and along with you. Have we e're a Witch in the Morice ?

i. No, no ; no womans part, but Maid-marian, and the Hobby-horfe.

Clow. I'll have a Witch ; I love a Witch.

i. Faith, Witches themfelves are fo common now adays, that the counterfeit will not be regarded. They

The Witch of Edmonton. 381

fay we have three or four in Edmonton, befides Mother Sawyer.

2. I would fhe would dance her part with us.

3. So would not I ; for if fhe comes, the Devil and all comes along with her.

Clow. Well, I'll have a Witch : I have lov'd a Witch ever fmce I play'd at Cherry-pit. Leave me, and get my horfe drefs'd : give him Oats ; but water him not till I come. Whither do we foot it firfl ? | 2. To Sir Arthur Claringtorfs firfl, then whither thou wilt.

Clow. Well, I am content : but we muft up to Carter's, the rich Yeoman. I muft be feen on Hobby- horfe there.

i . O, I fmell him now : I'll lay my ears Banks is in love, and that's the reafon he would walk melan choly by himfelf.

Clow. Hah ! who was that faid I was in love 1

1. Not I.

2. Nor I.

Clow. Go to : no more of that. When I under- ftand what you fpeak, I know what you fay : believe that.

1. Well, 'twas I, I'll not deny it : I meant no hurt in't. I have feen you walk up to Carter's of Chejfum. Banks, were you not there laft Shrovetide 1

Clow. Yes, I was ten days together there the laft Shrovetide.

2. How could that be, when there are but feven dayes in the week ?

Clow. Prithee peace, I reckon Jtila nova, as a Tra veller : thou underftandeft as a frefh-water Farmer, that never faweft a week beyond Sea. Ask any Souldier that ever received his pay but in the Low Countries, and he'll tell thee there are eight days in the week there, hard by. How doft thou think they rife in high Germany, Italy, and thofe remoter places 1

3. I, but fimply there are but feven days in the week yet.

382 The Witch of Edmonton.

Clow. No, fimply as thou underftandefl. Prithee, look but in the Lover's Almanack, when he has been but three days abfent ; Oh, fays he, I have not feen my Love thefe feven yeers : there's a long cut. When he comes to her again, and embraces her, Q, fays he, now methinks I am in Heaven ; and that's a pretty ftep : he that can get up to Heaven in ten days, need not repent his journey. You may ride a hundred days in a Caroch, and be further off then when you fet forth. But I pray you, good Morrice-mates, now leave me. I will be with you by midnight

i. Well, fince he will be alone, we'll back again, and trouble him no more.

Omn. But remember, Banks.

Clow. The Hobby-horfe (hall be remembred. But hark you : get Poldavis, the Barber's Boy for the Witch ; becaufe he can mew his Art better then an other. Exeunt. Well, now to my walk. I am neer the place where I mould meet I know not what : fay I meet a Thief, I mufl follow him, if to the Gallows : fay I meet a Horfe, or Hare, or Hound, flill I mufl follow ; fome flow-pac'd Beaft, I hope : yet Love is full of lightnefs in the heaviefl Lovers. Ha ! my Guide is come. A Water-Dog. I am thy firft man, Sculler : I go with thee : ply no other but my felf : away with the Boat : land me but at Katherinfs Dock, my fweet Katherine's Dock, and I'll be a Fare to thee. That way ? nay, which way thou wilt, thou know'fl the way better then I. Fine gentle Cur it is, and well brought up, I warrant him. We go a ducking, Spaniel ; thou malt fetch me the Ducks, pretty kinde Rafcal.

Enter Spirit in fhape of Katherine, vizarded, and takes it off.

Spir. Thus throw I off mine own effential

horror, And take the fhape of a fweet lovely Maid

The Witch of Edmonton. 383

Whom this Fool doats on. We can meet his folly, But from his Vertues muft be Run-aways. We'll fport with him : but when we reckoning call, We know where to receive : th' Witch pays for all.

(Dog barks.

Clow. I ? is that the watch-word ? She's come. Well, if ever we be married, it mail be at Barking- Church, in memory of thee. Now, come behinde, kinde Cur.

And have I met thee, fweet Kate ?

I will teach thee to walk fo late. O fee, we meet in Metre. What ? doft thou trip from me ? Oh that I were upon my Hobby-horfe, I would mount after thee fo nimble. Stay, Nymph, flay, Nymph, fmg'd Apollo : tarry and kifs me ; fweet Nymph flay : tarry and kifs me, Sweet. We will to Cheffum-ftreet, and then to the houfe flands in the high-way. Nay by your leave, I mufl embrace you. Oh help, help, I am drown'd, I am drown' d.

Ex. Spir. and Banks.

Enter wet.

Dog. Ha, ha, ha, ha.

Clow. This was an ill night to go a wooing in ; I finde it now in Pond's Almanack : thinking to land at Katherims Dock, I was almoft at Gravefend. I'll never go to a Wench in the Dog-days again ; yet 'tis cool enough. Had you never a paw in this Dog- trick ? a mangie take that black hide of yours : I'll throw you in at Limehoufe in fome Tanner's Pit or other.

Dog. Ha, ha, ha, ha.

Clow. How now ? who's that laughs at me 1 Hifl to him [Dog barksl\ Peace, peace ; thou didfl but thy kinde neither. 'Twas my own fault.

Dog. Take heed how thou truftefl the Devil another time.

384 The Witch of Edmonton.

Clow. How now 1 who's that fpeaks ? I hope you have not your reading Tongue about you.

Dog. Yes, I can fpeak.

Clow. The Devil you can. You have read Efop's Fables then ; I have play'd one of your parts then ; the Dog that catch'd at the fhadow in the water. Pray you, let me catechize you a little : What might one call your name, Dog /

Dog. My Dame calls me Tom.

Clow. 'Tis well ; and me may call me Afs : fo there's an whole one betwixt us, Tom-Afs. She faid, I mould follow you, indeed. Well, Tom, give me thy fift ; we are Friends : you mail be mine Ingle : I love you ; but I pray you let's have no more of thefe ducking devices.

Dog. Not, if you love me. Dogs love where they are beloved. Cherilh me, and I'll do any thing for thee.

Clow. Well, you mail have Jowls and Livers : I have Butchers to my Friends that (hall beftow 'em : and I will keep Crufts and Bones for you, if you'll be a kinde Dog, Tom.

Dog. Any thing : I'll help thee to thy Love.

Clow. Wilt thou ? That promife (hall cod me a brown Loaf, though I (leal it out of my Father's Cupboard. You'll eat (lollen Goods, Tom, will you not ?

Dog. Oh bed of all. The fweeteft bits, thofe.

Clow. You (hall not (larve, Ningle Tom ; believe that, if you love Fifh, I'll help you to Maids and Soles. I'm acquainted with a Fifhmonger.

Dog. Maids and Soles 1 Oh, fweet bits ! Banquet- ting (luff, thofe.

Clow. One thing I would requefl you, Ningle, as you have play'd the Knavim Cur with me a little, that you would mingle amongil our Morrice-Dancers in the morning. You can dance ?

Dog. Yes, yes, any thing : I'll be there, but unfeen

The Witch of Edmonton. 385

to any but thy felf. Get thee gone before : feare not my prefence. I have work to night. I ferve more Matters, more Dames then one.

Clow. He can ferve Mammon and the Devil too.

Dog. It (hall concern thee, and thy Loves pur- chafe :

There's a gallant Rival loves the Maid ; And likely is to have her. Mark what a mifchief Before the Morrice ends, mail light on him.

Clow. Oh fweet Ningle, thy neufe once again. Friends muft part for a time : farewel, with this remembrance; malt have bread too when we meet again. If ever there were an honeft Devil, 'twill be the Devil of Edmonton, I fee. Farewell Tom* I prithee dog me as foon as thou canft. Ex. Banks.

Dog. I'll not mifs thee, and be merry with thee. Thofe that are joys denied, muft take delight In fins and mifchiefs, 'tis the Devil's right. Ex. Dog.

Enter Young Thorney, Winnifride as a Boy.

Frank. Prithee no more : thofe tears give nourilh-

ment

To weeds and briers in me, which fhortly will O'regrow and top my head : my fhame will fit And cover all that can be feen of me.

Win. I have not fhewn this cheek in company, Pardon me now ; thus fmgled with your felf, It calls a thoufand forrows round about. Some going before, and fome on either fide ; But infinite behinde : all chain'd together. Your fecond adulterous Marriage leads ; That's the fad Eclipfe, the effeas muft follow. As, plagues of fhame, fpight, fcorn, and obloquy,

K Tho. Why ? haft thou not left one hours pa tience To add to all the reft ? One hour bears us

4

c c

386 The Witch of Edmonton.

Beyond the reach of all thefe Enemies. Are we not now fet forward in the flight, Provided with the Dowry of my fin, To keep us in fome other Nation *? While we together are, we are at home In any place.

Win. 'Tis fowl ill gotten coyn, Far worfe then Ufurp or Extortion.

Y. Thor. Let- my Father then make the reflitution, Who forc'd me take the bribe : it is his gift And patrimony to me ; fo I receive it. He would not blefs, nor look a Father on me, Until I fatisfied his angry will. When I was fold, I fold my felf again (Some Knaves have done't in Lands, and I in Body) For money, and I have the hire. But, fweet, no

more,

'Tis hazard of difcovery, our difcourfe ; And then prevention takes off all our hopes. For only but to take her leave of me, My Wife is coming.

Win. Who coming ? your Wife ?

Y. Tho. No, no, thou art here : the woman ; I

knew

Not how to call her now : but after this day She mall be quite forgot, and have no name In my remembrance. See, fee, fhe's come.

Enter Sufan.

Go lead the horfes to the hills top, there I'll meet thee.

Suf. Nay, with your favour, let him flay a little. I would part with him too, becaufe he is Your fole Companion j and I'll begin with him, Refervirfg you the laft.

Y. Thor. I, with all my heart.

Suf. You may hear, if it pleafe you, Sir.

Y. Thor. No, 'tis not fit.

The Witch of Edmonton. 387

Some rudiments, I conceive, they mufl be, To overlook my flippery footings. And fo. Suf. No, indeed, Sir. Y. Thor. Turn, I know it mull be fo, and 'tis

neceffary. On, but be brief.

Win. What charge fo'ere you lay upon me,

Miflrefs,

I mail fupport it faithfully -(being honefl) To my befl ftrength.

Suf. Believe't mail be no other. I know you

were

Commended to my husband by a noble Knight. Win. Oh Gods ! Oh, mine eyes ! Suf. How now 1 what ailfl thou, Lad ? Win. Something hit mine eye, it makes it water

flill,

Even as you faid, Commended to my Husband. Some door I think it was. I was, forfooth, Commended to him by Sir Arthur Clarington.

Suf. Whofe fervant once my Thorney was him-

felf.

That title methinks mould make you almoft Fellows, Or at the leaft much more then a Servant ; And I am fure he will refpe<5l you fo. Your love to him then needs no fpur for me, And what for my fake you will ever do ; 'Tis fit it mould be bought with fomething more Then fair entreats. Look here's a Jewel for thee, A pretty wanton Label for thine ear ; And I would have it hang there, flill to whifper Thefe words to thee, Thou haft my Jewel with thee. It is but earnefl of a larger bounty, When thou returnft, with praifes of thy fervice, Which I am confident thou wilt deferve. Why, thou art many now, befides thy felf : Thou maift be Servant, Friend, and Wife to him. A good Wife is then all. A Friend can play The Wife and Servants part, and fhift enough.

c c 2

388 The Witch of Edmonton.

No lefs the Servant can the Friend and Wife. Tis all but fweet fociety, good counfel, Enterchang'd loves ; yes, and counfel-keeping.

Y. Thor. Not done yet ?

Suf. Even now, Sir.

Win. Miftrefs, believe my vow, your fevere eye Were it prefent to command ; your bounteous

hand,

Were it then by to buy or bribe my fervice, Shall not make me more dear or neer unto him, Then I mail voluntary. I'll be all your charge, Servant, Friend, Wife to him.

Suf. Wilt thou?

Now bleffmgs go with thee for't : courtefies Shall meet thee coming home.

Win. Pray you fay plainly, Miflrefs, Are you jealous of him ? if you be, •I'll look to him that way too.

Suf. Sayft thou fo ?

I would thou hadfl a womans bofom now. We have weak thoughts within us. Alas, There's nothing fo flrong in us as fufpicion : But I dare not, nay, I will not think So hardly of my Thorney.

Win. Believe it, Miflrefs, I'll be no Pander to him ; and if I finde Any loofe lubrick fcapes in him, I'll watch him, And at my return, protefl I'll mew you all. He mall hardly offend without my knowledge.

Suf. Thine own diligence is that I prefs, And not the curious eye over his faults. Farewel : if I mould never fee thee more, Take it for ever.

Y. Thor. Prithee take that along with thee,

Gives hisfword.

And hafle thee to the hills top ; 111 be there inflantly.

Ex. Win.

Suf. No hafle I prithee, flowly as thou canfl. Pray let him obey me now : 'tis happily his lafl

The Witch of Edmonton. 389

Service to me. My power is e'en a going out of

fight. Y. Thor. Why would you delay? we have no

other Bufmefs now but to part.

Suf. And will not that, fweet heart, ask a long

time?

Methinks it is the hardefl piece of work That e're I took in hand.

Y. Thor. Fie, fie, why look, I'll make it plain and eafie to you : Farewel. Kiffes.

Suf. Ah, 'las ! I am not half perfect in it yet. I mufl have it read over an hundred times. Pray you take fome pains, I confefs my dulnefs. Y. Thor. What a Thorne this Rofe grows on?

parting were fweet,

But what a trouble 'twill be to obtain it ? Come, again and again, farewel. Yet wilt return ?

Kijffes.

All queftions of my journey, my flay, imployment, And revifitation, fully I have anfwered all. There's nothing now behinde, but nothing.

Suf. And that nothing is more hard then any

thing,

Then all the every things. This Requeft. ^.Thor. What is it? Suf. That I may bring you through one paflure

more

Up to yon knot of trees : amongfl thofe fhadows I'll vanifh from you, they mail teach me how. Y. Thor. Why, 'tis granted : come, walk then. Suf. Nay, not too fail. They fay flow things have befl perfection : The gentle fhowre wets to fertility. The churlim ftorm may mifchief with his bounty. The bafer beafts take flrength, even from the

womb : But the Lord Lion's whelp is feeble long. Exeunt.

390 The Witch of Edmonton.

Enter Dog.

Dog. Now for an early mifchief and a fudden : The minde's about it now. One touch from me Soon fets the body forward.

Enter Young Thorney, Sufan.

Y. Thor. Your requefl is out : yet will you leave

me? Suf. What? fo churlifhly? you'll make me flay

for ever, Rather then part with fuch a found from you.

Y. Thor. Why you almoft anger me. Pray you be

gone.

You have no company, and 'tis very early ; Some hurt may betide you homewards.

Suf. Turn, I fear none. To leave you, is the greatefl hurt I can fuffer : Befides, I expect your Father and mine own, To meet me back, or overtake me with you. They began to ftir when I came after you : I know they'll not be long.

Y. Thor. So, I mall have more trouble.

Dog rubs him.

Thank you for that. Then I'll eafe all at once. 'Tis done now ; what I ne'er thought on. You mail

not go back. Suf. Why? mail I go along with thee? fweet

mufick !

Y. Thor. No, to a better place. Suf. Any place, I :

I'm there at home, where thou pleafefl to have me. Y. Thor. At home? I'll leave you in your lail

lodging. I muft kill you.

Suf. Oh fine ! you'ld fright me from you.

Y. Thor. You fee I had no purpofe : I'm unarm'd.

The Witch of Edmonton. 391

'Tis this minutes decree, and it muft be. Look, this will ferve your turn.

Suf. I'll not turn from it, if you be earfl,

Sir. Yet you may tell me wherefore you'll kill me.

Y. Thor. Becaufe you are a whore.

Suf. There's one deep wound already : a whore ? 'Twas even further from me then the thought Of this black hour : a whore ?

Y. Thor. Yes, I'll prove it, And you mail confefs it. You are my whore, No wife of mine. The word admits no fecond. I was before wedded to another, have her dill. I do not lay the fin unto your charge, 'Tis all mine own. Your marriage was my theft. For I efpous'd your dowry, and I have it : I did not purpofe to have added murther ; The Devil did not prompt me : till this minute You might have fafe returned ; now you cannot : You have dogg'd your own death. [Stabs her.

Suf. And I deferve it. I'm glad my fate was fo intelligent. 'Twas fome good Spirits motion. Die ? Oh, 'twas

time !

How many years might I have flept in fin ? Sin of my moft hatred too, Adultery ?

Y. Thor. Nay, fure 'twas likely that the moft was

pafl;

For I meant never to return to you After this parting.

Suf. Why then I thank you more, You have done lovingly, leaving your felf, That you would thus beftow me on another. Thou art my Husband, Death, and I embrace thee With all the love I have. Forget the flain Of my unwitting fin : and then I come A Chryftal Virgin to thee. My Soul's purity Shall with bold Wings afcend the Doors of Mercy j For Innocence is ever her Companion.

392 The Witch of Edmonton.

Y. Thor. Not yet mortal ? I would not linger you, Or leave you a tongue to blab.

Suf. Now heaven reward you ne'er the worfe for

me.

I did not think that death had been fo fweet ; Nor I fo apt to love him. I could ne'er die better, Had I llaid forty yeers for preparation : For I'm in charity with all the World. Let me for once be thine example, Heaven ; Do to this man as I him free forgive. And may he better die, and better live. Moritur.

Y. Tho. 'Tis done ; and I am in : once pad our

height,

We fcorn the deepft Abyfs. This follows now, To heal her wounds by dreffmg of the Weapon : Arms, thighs, hands, any place ; we mufl not fail,

[ Wounds himfelf. Light fcratches giving fuch deep ones. The beft

I can

To binde my felf to this Tree. Now's the ftorm, Which if blown o're, many fair days may follow.

\Dog ties him.

So, fo, I'm faft ; I did not think I could Have done fo well behinde me. How profperous And effectual mifchief fometimes is ? Help, help j Murther, murther, murther.

Enter Carter, and Old Thorney.

Cart. Ha ! Whom tolls the Bell for ?

Y. Thor. Oh, oh !

O. Thor. Ah me ! the caufe appears too foon : my Child, my Son.

Cart. Sufan, Girl, Child. Not fpeak to thy Father 1 Hah !

Y. Tho. O lend me tome afliftance to o'retake this haplefs woman.

O. Thor. Let's o'retake the murtherers. Speak whilft thou canft; anon may be too late. I fear thou hail deaths mark upon thee too.

The Witch of Edmonton. 393

Y. Thor. I know them both ; yet fuch an Oath is

pafs'd,

As pulls damnation up if it be broke ; I dare not name 'em : think what forc'd men do.

O. Thor. Keep oath with murtherers 1 that were a confcience to hold the Devil in.

Y. Thor. Nay, Sir, I can defcribe 'em ; Shall mew them as familiar as their names. The Taller of the two at this time wears His Satten-doublet white, but Crimfon lin'd ; Hofe of black Satten, Cloak of Scarlet.

O. Thor. Warbeck, Warbeck, Warbeck: Do you lift to this, Sir ?

Cart. Yes, yes, I liften you : here's nothing to be heard.

Y. Thor. Th' others Cloak branch'd Velvet black, Velvet lin'd his Suit,

O. Thor. I have 'em already : Somerton, Somerton. Binal revenge, all this. Come, Sir, the firft work Is to purfue the Murtherers, when we have remov'd Thefe mangled bodies hence.

Cart. Sir, take that Carcafe there, and give me

this.

I'll not own her now ; fhe's none of mine. Bob me off with a dumb mew 1 No, I'll have life. This is my Son too, and while there's life in him, 'Tis half mine ; take you halfe that filence for't. When I fpeak, I look to be fpoken to : forgetful

Slut?

O. Thor. Alas ! what grief may do now ? Look, Sir, I'll take this load of forrow with me.

Cart. I, do, and I'll have this. How do you,

Sir?

Y. Thor. O, very ill, Sir. Cart. Yes, I think fo ; but 'tis well you can fpeak

yet.

There's no mufick but in found, found it mufl be. I have not wept thefe twenty yeers before,

394 The Witch of Edmonton.

And that I guefs was e're that Girl was born ; Yet now methinks, if I but knew the way, My heart's fo full, I could weep night and day.

Exeunt.

Enter Sir Arthur Clarington, Warbeck, Somerton.

Sir Art. Come, Gentlemen, we mufl all help to

grace

The nimble-footed youth of Edmonton, That are fo kinde to call us up to day With an high Morrice.

Warb. I could wifh it for the bed, it were the

worfl now. Abfurditie's in my opinion ever the beft Dancer in a

Morrice.

Som. I could rather fleep then fee 'em. Sir Art. Not well, Sir ? Som. Faith not ever thus leaden ; yet I know no

caufe for't. Warb. Now am I beyond mine own condition

highly difpos'd to mirth. Sir Art. Well, you may yet have a Morrice to

help both ; To flrike you in a dump, and make him merry.

Enter Eidler and Morrice ; all but Banks.

Fidl. Come, will you fet your felves in Morrice- ray ? the fore-Bell, fecond Bell, Tenor and Great Bell ; Maid-marion for the fame Bell. But where's the Weather-cock now ? the Hobby-horfe ?

i. Is not Banks come yet 1 What a fpight 'tis 1

Sir Art. When fet you forward, Gentlemen ?

i. We flay but for the Hobby-horfe, Sir: all our Footmen are ready.

Som. 'Tis marvel your Horfe mould be behinde your Foot.

The Witch of Edmonton. 395

2. Yes, Sir : he goes further about : we can come in at the Wicket, but the broad Gate mufl be opened for him.

Enter Banks, Hobby-horfe and Dog.

Sir Art. Oh, we ftaid for you, Sir.

Clow. Onely my Horfe wanted a Shooe, Sir : but we mall make you amends e're we part

Sir Art. I ? well faid, make 'em drink e're they begin.

Ent.ferv. with beer.

Clow. A bowl, I prithee, and a little for my Horfe, he'll mount the better. Nay, give me, I muft drink to him, he'll not pledge elfe. Here Hobby. [Holds him the bowlJ\ I pray you : No 1 not drink ? You fee, Gentlemen, we can but bring our horfe to the Water; he may chufe whether he'll drink or no.

Som. A good Moral made plain by Hiflory.

i. Strike up, Father Sawgut, flrike up.

Fidl. E'en when you will, Children. Now in the name of the beft foot forward. How now ? not a word in thy Guts ? I think, Children, my Inftrument has caught cold on the fudden.

Clow. My Ningtis knavery : black Tom's doing.

Omit. Why what mean you, Father Sawgutl

Clow. Why what would you have him do ? You hear his Fiddle is fpeechlefs.

Fidl. I'll lay mine Ear to my Inftrument, that my poor Fiddle is bewitch'd. I play'd The Flowers in May, e'en now, as fweet as a Violet ; now 'twill not go againft the hair : you fee I can make no more Mufick then a Beetle of a Cow-turd.

Clow. Let me fee, Father Sawgut, fay, once you had a brave Hobby-horfe, that you were beholding

396 The Witch of Edmonton.

to. I'll play and dance too. Ningle, away with it.

\Dogplays the Morrice ; which ended, enter a Conftable and Officers.

Omn. I marry, Sir !

Conft. Away with jollity, 'tis too fad an hour. Sir Arthur Clarington, your own affiflance, In the Kings Name, I charge, for apprehenfion Of thefe two Murderers, Warbeck and Somerton.

Sir Art. Ha i flat Murtherers ?

Som. Ha, ha, ha, this has awakened my melan choly.

Warb. And ftruck my mirth down flat. Mur therers ?

ConJI* The accufation is flat againfl you, Gentle men.

Sir, you may be fatisfied with this. I hope You'll quietly obey my power : 'Twill make your caufe the fairer.

Ambo. Oh ! with all our hearts, Sir.

Clow. There's my Rival taken up for Hang-man's meat. Tom told me he was about a piece of Vil- lany. Mates and Morrice-men, you fee here's no longer piping, no longer dancing. This news of Mur der has flain the Morrice. You that go the foot-way, fare ye well : I am for a Gallop. Come, Ningle.

Exe.

Fidl [Strikes his Fiddle.} I ? Nay and my Fid dle be come to himfelf again, I care not. I think the Devil has been abroad amongft us to day. I'll keep thee out of thy fit now if I can. Exe.

Sir Art. Thefe things are full of horror, full of

pity.

But if this time be conflant to the proof. The guilt of both thefe Gentlemen I dare take Upon mine own danger ; yet howfoever, Sir, Your power muft be obey'd.

The Witch of Edmonton. 397

Warb. Oh mofl willingly, Sir. Tis a mofl fweet affliction. I could not meet A joy in the befl fhape with better will. Come, fear not, Sir ; nor Judge, nor Evidence, Can binde him o're, who's freed by confcience.

Sem. Mine {lands fo upright to the middle Zone, It takes no fhadow to't, it goes alone. Exeunt.

ACT. IV. Scam. I.

Enter Old Banks, and two or three Country-men.

0. Bank. TV /T Y Horfe this morning runs mofl

1 V-L pitioufly of the Glaunders, whofe nofe yeflernight was as clean as any Man's here now coming from the Barbers ; and this I'll take my death upon't is long of this Jadifh Witch, Mother Sawyer.

1. I took my Wife and a Servingman in our Town of Edmonton, thrafhing in my Barn together, fuch Corn as Country-Wenches carry to Market ; and exa mining my Polecat why me did fo, me fwore in her confcience me was bewitch'd : and what Witch have we about us, but Mother Sawyer 1

2. Rid the Town of her, elfe all our Wives will do nothing elfe but dance about other Country May poles.

3. Our Cattel fall, our Wives fall, our Daughters

The Witch of Edmonton.

fall, and Maid-fervants fall ; and we our felyes mall not be able to fland, if this Beaft be fuffered to graze amongft us.

Enter W. Harnlac, with Thatch and a Link.

Haml Burn the Witch, the Witch, the Witch, the Witch.

Omn. What haft got there ?

ffoml. A handful of Thatch pluck'd off a Hovel of hers : and they fay, when 'tis burning, if me be a Witch, fhe'll come running in.

O. Bank. Fire it, fire it : I'll fland between thee and home for any danger.

As that burns, enter the Witch.

Sawy. Difeafes, Plagues ; the curfe of an old Wo man follow and fall upon you.

Omn. Are you come, you old Trot ?

0. Bank. You hot Whore, muft we fetch you with fire in your tail ?

1. This Thatch is as good as a Jury to prove fhe is a Witch.

Omn. Out Witch ; beat her, kick her, fet fire on her.

Sawy. Shall I be murthered by a bed of Serpents ? help, help !

Enter Sir Arthur Clarington, and a Juftice.

Omn. Hang her, beat her, kill her.

Juft. How now ? Forbear this violence.

Sawy. A crew of Villains, a knot of bloody Hang men fet to torment me I know not why.

Juft. Alas, neighbour Banks, are you a Ring leader in mifchief ? Fie, to abufe an aged woman !

O. Bank. Woman ? a She-hell-cat, a Witch : to prove her one, we no fooner fet fire on the Thatch of her Houfe, but in fhe came running, as if the Devil

The Witch of Edmonton. 399

had fent her in a Barrel of Gunpowder ; which trick as furely proves her a Witch, as the Pox in a fnuffling nofe, is a fign a Man is a Whore-mafter.

Juft. Come, come ; firing her Thatch ? ridiculous : take heed Sirs what you do : unlefs your proofs come better arm'd, inflead of turning her into a Witch, you'll prove your felves ftarke Fools.

Omn* Fools 1

Juft. Arrant Fools.

O. Bank. Pray, Mr. Juftice what do you call 'em, hear me but in one thing : This grumbling Devil owes me I know no good will ever fmce I fell out with her.

Satvy. And brakedfl my back with beating me.

O. Bank. I'll break it worfe.

Sawy. Wilt thou ?

J^ujl. You muft not threaten her : 'tis againfl Law. Go on.

O. Bank. So, Sir, ever fmce, having a Dun- Cow tied up in my Back-fide, let me go thither, or but caft mine eye at her, and if I mould be hang'd I cannot chufe, though it be ten times in an hour, but run to the Cow, and taking up her tail, kifs (faving your Worship's Reverence) my Cow behinde ; That the whole Town of Edmonton has been ready to be- pifs themfelves with laughing me to fcorn.

Jujl. And this is long of her?

O. Bank. Who the Devil elfe 1 for is any man fuch an Afs, to be fuch a Baby, if he were not be- witch'd ?

Sir Art. Nay, if me be a Witch, and the harms me does end in fuch fports, me may fcape burning.

Jujl Go, go ; pray vex her not : me is a Subjecl, and you muft not be Judges of the Law to ftrike her as you pleafe.

Omn. No, no, we'll finde cudgel enough to ftrike her.

4OO The Witch of Edmonton.

O. Bank. I, no lips to kifs but my Cows 1

Exeunt.

Sawy, Rots and foul maladies eat up thee and thine.

Juft. Here's none now, Mother Sawyer, but this Gentleman, my felf and you ; let us to fome milde Queflions, have you milde Anfwers ? Tell us honeftly, and with a free confeffion, (we'll do our beft to wean you from it) are you a Witch,

I am none. Be not fo furious.

I am none. None but bafe Curs fo bark at me. I am none. Or would I were : if every poor old Woman be trod on thus by flaves, revil'd, kick'd, beaten, as I am daily, me to be reveng'd had need turn Witch.

Sir Art. And you to be reveng'd have fold your Soul to th' Devil.

Sawy. Keep thine own from him.

Juft. You are too fawcie, and too bitter.

Sawy. Sawcie 1 by what commifllon can he fend my Soul on the Divel's Errand, more then I can his 1 is he a Landlord of my Soul, to thruft it when he lift out of door ?

Juft. Know whom you fpeak to.

Sawy. A Man : perhaps, no Man. Men in gay clothes, whofe Backs are laden with Titles and Honours, are within far more crooked then I am ; and if I be a Witch, more Witch-like.

Sir Art. Y'are a bafe Hell-hound. And now, Sir, let me tell you, Far and neer fhee's bruited for a woman that maintains a Spirit that fucks her.

Sawy. I dene thee.

Sir Art. Go, go, I can, if need be, bring an hundred voyces e'en here in Edmonton, that mall lowd proclaim thee for a fecret and pernicious Witch.

Sawy. Ha, ha !

The Witch of Edmonton. 401

Jujl. Do you laugh ? why laugh you ?

Sawy. At my name : the brave name this Knight gives me, Witch.

Jujl. Is the Name of Witch fo pleafmg to thine Ear?

Sir Art. Pray, Sir, give way, and let her Tongue .gallop on.

Sawy. A Witch ? who is not ? Hold not that univerfal Name in fcorne then. What are your painted things in Princes Courts ? Upon whofe Eye-lids Luft fits blowing fires To burn Mens Souls in fenfual hot defires : Upon whofe naked Paps, a Leachers thought A6ls Sin in fouler fhapes then can be wrought.

Jufl. But thofe work not as you do.

Sawy. No, but far worfe :

Thefe, by Inchantments, can whole Lordfhips change To Trunks of rich Attire : turn Ploughs and

Teams

To Flanders Mares and Coaches ; and huge trains Of fervitors, to a French Butter-Flie. Have you not City-witches who can turn Their husbands wares, whole {landing (hops of

wares,

To fumptuous Tables, Gardens of ftoln fin 1 In one yeer wafting, what fcarce twenty win. Are not thefe Witches 1

Juft+ Yes, yes, but the Law Cafts not an eye on thefe.

Sawy. Why then on me, Or any lean old Beldame ? Reverence once Had wont to wait on age. Now an old woman Ill-favour'd grown with yeers, if (he be poor, Muft be call'd Bawd or Witch. Such fo abus'd Are the courfe Witches : t'other are the fine, Spun for the Devil's own wearing.

Sir Art. And fo is thine.

Sawy. She on whofe tongue a whirlwind fits to blow

D D

402 The Witch of Edmonton.

A man out of himfelf, from his foft pillow, To lean his head on Rocks and fighting waves, Is not that Scold a Witch ? The Man of Law Whofe honeyed hopes the credulous Client draws, (As Bees by tinkling Bafons) to fwarm to him, From his own Hive, to work the Wax in his ; He is no Witch, not he.

Sir Art. But thefe Men- Witches Are not in trading with Hells Merchandize, Like fuch as you are, that for a word, a look, Denial of a Coal of fire, kill Men, Children and Cattel.

Sawy. Tell them, Sir, that do fo : Am I accus'd for fuch an one 1

Sir Art. Yes, 'twill be fworn.

Sawy. Dare any fwear I ever tempted Maiden With golden hooks flung at her chaftity, To come and lofe her honour ? and being loft,. To pay not a Denier for't ? Some flaves have done it. Men-witches can without the Fangs of Law, Drawing once one drop of blood, put counterfeit

pieces Away for true Gold.

Sir Art. By one thing (lie fpeaks, I know now ftie's a Witch, and dare no longer Hold conference with the Fury.

Jujl. Let's then away : Old woman, mend thy life, get home and pray.

Exeunt.

Sawy. For his confufion.

Enter Dog.

My dear Tom-boy welcome. I am torn in pieces by a pack of Curs Clap'd all upon me, and for want of thee : Comfort me : thou (halt have the Teat anon.

Dog. Bough wough : I'll have it now.

Sawy. I am dri'd up

The Witch of Edmonton. 403

With curfmg and with madnefs ; and have yet

No blood to moyften thefe fweet lips of thine.

Stand on thy hind-legs up. Kifs me, my Tommy,

And rub away fome wrinkles on my brow,

By making my old ribs to fhrug for joy

Of thy fine tricks. What haft thou done? Let's

tickle, Haft thou ftruck the horfe lame as I bid thee ?

Dog. Yes, and nip'd the fucking-childe.

Sawy. Ho, ho, my dainty. My little Pearl. No Lady loves her Hound, Monkey, or Parakeet, as I do thee.

Dog. The Maid has been churming Butter nine hours ; but it (hall not come.

Sawy. Let 'em eat Cheefe and choak.

Dog. I had rare fport Among the Clowns i'th' Morrice.

Sawy. I could dance

Out of my skin to hear thee. But my Curl-pate, That Jade, that foul-tongu'd whore, Nan Ratclijf, Who for a little Soap lick'd by my Sow, Struck, and almoft had lam'd it ; Did not I charge

thee, To pinch that Quean to th' heart 1

Dog. Bough, wough, wough : Look here elfe.

Enter Anne Ratcliff mad.

Rate. See, fee, fee; the Man i'th' Moon has built a new Windmill, and what running there's from all quarters of the City to learn the Art of Grinding !

Sawy. Ho, ho, ho ! I thank thee, my fweet Mun- grel.

Rate. Hoyda ! a-pox of the Devil's falfe Hopper ! all the golden Meal runs into the rich Knaves purfes, and the poor have nothing but Bran. Hey derry down ! Are not you Mother Sawyer 1

Sawy. No, I am a Lawyer.

Rate. Art thou? I prithee let me fcratch thy

D D 2

404 The Witch of Edmonton.

Face ; for thy Pen has flea'd off a great many mens skins. You'll have brave doings in the Vacation ; for Knaves and Fools are at variance in every Village. I'll fue Mother Sawyer, and her own Sow (hall give in evidence againfl her.

Sawy. Touch her.

Rate. Oh my Ribs are made of a paynd Hofe, and they break There's a Lancajhire Horn-pipe in my throat : hark how it tickles it, with Doodle, Doodle, Doodle, Doodle. Welcome Serjeants : wel come Devil. Hands, hands ; hold hands, and dance a-round, a-round, a-round.

Enter Old Banks, his Son the Clown, Old Ratcliff, Country-fellows.

O. Rate. She's here ; alas, my poor wife is here.

O. Bank. Catch her fall, and have her into fome clofe Chamber do, for (he's as many Wives are, ftark mad.

Clow. The witch, Mother Sawyer, the witch, the devil. [Car. her off.

O. Rate. O my dear Wife ! help, Sirs !

O. Bank. You fee your work, Mother Bumby.

Saw. My work ? mould me & all you here run ?nad, is the work mine 1

Clow. No, on my confcience, me would not hurt ,a Devil of two yeers old.

Enter Old Ratcliff, and the rejl.

How now I wfeat's become of her 1

O. Rate. Nothing : (he's become nothing, but the miferable trunk of a wretched woman. We were in her hands as Reeds in a mighty Tempeft : fpight of our (Irengths, away (he brake; and nothing in her mouth being heard, but the Devil, the Witch, the Witch, the Devil ; me beat out her own brains, and fo died.

The Witch of Edmonton. 405

Clow. It's any Man's cafe, be he never fo wife, to die when his brains go a wool-gathering.

CX Banks. Matters, be rul'd by me ; let's all to a Juftice. Hag, thou hall done this, and thou flialt anfwer it.

Sawy. Banks, I defie thee.

O. Bank. Get a Warrant firtt to examine her, then fhip her to Newgate : here's enough, if all her other villanies were pardon'd, to burn her for a Witch. You have a Spirit, they fay, comes to you in the likenefs of a Dog ; we mall fee your Cur at one time or other : if we do, unlefs it be the Devil himfelf, he mall go howling to the Goal in one chain, and thou in an other.

Sawy* Be hang'd thou in a third, and do thy worfl.

Clow. How, Father? you fend the poor dumb thing howling to th' Goal ? He that makes him howl, makes me roar.

O. Bank. Why, foolifh Boy, doft thou know him ?

Clow. No matter, if I do or not. He's baylable I am fure by Law. But if the Dog's word will not be taken, mine (hall.

O. Bank. Thou Bay! for a Dog?

Clow. Yes, or a Bitch either, being my Friend. I'll lie by the heels my felf, before Puppifon mall : his Dog-days are not come yet, I hope.

O. Bank. What manner of Dog is it ? didfl ever fee him 1

Clow. See him? yes, and given him a bone to gnaw twenty times. The Dog is no Court foylling Hound, that fills his belly full by bafe wagging his tayl ; neither is it a Citizens Water-Spaniel, enticing his Matter to go a-ducking twice or thrice a week, whilft his Wife makes Ducks and Drakes at home : this is no /^r/V-Garden Bandog neither, that keeps a Bough, wough, woughing, to have Butchers bring their Curs thither ; and when all comes to all, they

406 The Witch of Edmonton.

run away like Sheep : neither is this the black Dog of New-gate.

O. Bank. No, Good-man Son-fool, but the Dog of Hell-gate.

Clow. I fay, Good-man Father-fool, it's a lye.

Omn. He's bewitch'd.

Clow. A grofs lye as big as my felf. The Devil in St. Dunftaris will as foon drink with this poor Cur, as with any Temple Bar-Laundress, that wafh.es and wrings Lawyers.

Dog* Bough, wough, wough, wough.

Omn. O the Dog's here, the Dog's here.

O. Bank. It was the voice of a Dog.

Clow. The voice of a Dog? if that voice were a Dog's, what voice had my Mother? fo am I a Dog : bough, wough, wough : it was I that bark'd fo, Father, to make Cocks-combs of thefe Clowns.

O. Bank. However, we'll be Cocks-comb'd no longer ; away therefore to th' Juflice for a Warrant ; and then, Gammer Gurton, have at your Needle of Witch-craft.

Sawy. And prick thine 'own eyes out. Go, peevifh Fools. Exe.

Clow. Ningle, you had like to have fpoyl'd all with your Boughings. I was glad to, put Jem off with one of my Dog-tricks, on a. fudden, I am bewitch'd, little Cofl-me-nougbt, to love thee-^-a Pox, that Morrice makes me fpit in thy mouth. I dare not Hay. Farewel, Ningle ; you whorefon Dogs-nofe. Farewel Witch. Exit.

Dog. Bough, wough, wough, wough.

Sawy. Minde him not, he's not worth thy worry ing : run at a fairer Game : that fowl-mouth'd Knight, fcurvy Sir Arthur, flie at him, my Tommy ; and pluck out's throat.

Dog. No, there a Dog already biting's con- fcience.

The Witch of Edmonton. 407

Sawy. That's a fure Blood-hound. Come, let's

home and play. Our black work ended, we'll make holiday. Exeunt.

SC.EN. 2.

Enter Katherine : a Bed thruji forth, on it Frank in ajlumber.

Kat. Brother, Brother ! So found afleep ? that's well.

Frank. No, not I, Sifter : he that's wounded here, As I am ; (all my other hurts are bitings Of a poor flea) but he that here once bleeds, Is maim'd incurably.

Kat. My good fweet Brother, (For now my Sifter muft grow up in you) Though her lofs ftrikes you through, and that I feel The blow as deep, I pray thee be not cruel To kill me too, by feeing you caft away In your own helplefs forrow. Good Love, fit up : And if you can give Phyfick to your felf, I mall be well.

Frank. I'll do my beft.

Kat. I thank you. What do you look about for ?

Frank. Nothing, nothing j but I was thinking, Sifter.

Kat. Dear heart, what 1

Fran. Who but a fool would thus be bound to

a bed, Having this Room to walk in ?

Kat. Why do you talk fo 1 would you were fall afleep.

Frank. No, no, I'm not idle : But here's my meaning : being rob'd as I am, Why fliould my Soul, which married was to hers,

408 The Witch of Edmonton.

Live in divorce, and not flie after her ?

Why fhould not 1 walk hand in hand with death

To finde my Love out ?

Kat. That were well, indeed. Your time being come, when death is fent to call

you, No doubt you mall meet her.

Frank. Why mould not I go without calling ?

Kat. Yes, Brother, fo you might, were there no

place To go to when y'are gone, but onely this.

Frank. Troth, Sifter, thou fayft true : For when a man has been an hundred yeers, Hard travelling o're the tottering bridge of age, He's not the thoufand part upon his way. All life is but a wandring to finde home : When we are gone, we are there. Happy were man, Could here his Voyage end ; he mould not then Anfwer how well or ill he fteer'd his Soul, By Heaven's or by Hell's Compafs ; how he put in (Loofing blefs'd Goodnefs more) at fuch a fin 3 Nor how life's dear provifion he has fpent : Nor how far he in's Navigation went Beyond Commiffion. This were a fine Raign, To do ill, and not hear of it again. Yet then were Man more wretched then a Beafl : For, Sifter our dead pay is fure the beft.

Kat. 'Tis fo; the beft or worft. And I wifh

Heaven

To pay (and fo I know it will) that Traytor, That Devil Somerton (who flood in mine eye Once as an Angel) home to his defervings. What Villain but himfelf, once loving me, With WarbecKs Soul would pawn his own to Hell, To be reveng'd on my poor Sifter ?

Frank. Slaves ! a pair of mercilefs Slaves ! Speak no more of them.

Kate. I think this talking hurts you.

Frank. Does me no good, I'm fure,

The Witch of Edmonton. 409

I pay for't everywhere.

Kat. I have done then.

Eat, if you cannot fleep : you have thefe two days Not tafted any food. Jane, is it ready ?

Frank, What's ready ? what's ready ?

Kat. I have made ready a rolled Chicken for

you. Sweet, wilt thou eat ?

Frank. A pretty ftomach on a fudden — yes — There's one in the houfe can play upon a Lute : Good Girl, let's hear him too.

Kat. You fhall, dear Brother. Lute plays,

Would I were a Mufician, you fhould hear How I would feaft your ear. Stay, mend your Pillow, and raife you higher.

Frank. I am up too high : am I not, Sifter, now ;

Kat. No, no ; 'tis well : fall to, fall to. A Knife : here's never a Knife, Brother, I'll look out yours.

Enter Dog, Jhrugging as it were for joy, and dances.

Frank. Sifter, O Sifter, I am ill upon a fudden > and can eat nothing.

Kat. In very deed you fhall. The want of Food makes you fo faint. Ha 1 here's none in your pocket. I'll go fetch a Knife. Exit.

Frank. Will you ? 'Tis well, all's well.

[She gone, he fearches firft one, then the other Pocket. Knife found. Dog runs off. He lies on one fide : the Spirit of Sufan his fecond Wife comes to the Beds-fide. He flares at it ; and turning to the other ftde, its there too. In the mean time, Winni- fride as a Page comes in, ftands at his Beds-feet fadly : he frighted, fits upright. The Spirit vanifhes.

Frank. What art thou ? Win. A loft Creature.

4io The Witch of Edmonton.

Frank. So am I too. Win ? Ah, my She-Page !

Win. For your fake I put on a fhape that's falfe ; yet do I wear a heart true to you as your own.

Frank. Would mine and thine were Fellows in one houfe. Kneel by me here : on this fide now ? How dar'fl thou come to mock me on both fides of my bed ?

Win. When ?

Frank. But juft now : out-face me, flare upon me with flrange poflures : turn my Soul wilde by a face in which were drawn a thoufand Ghofts leap'd newly from their Graves, to pluck me into a winding- Sheet.

Win. Believe it, I came no neerer to you then yon place, at your beds-feet ; and of the houfe had leave, calling my felf your Horfe-boy, in to come, and vifit my fick Matter.

Frank. Then 'twas my Fancy. Some Wind-mill in my brains for want of fleep.

Win. Would I might never fleep, fo you could

reft.

But you have pluck'd a Thunder on your head, Whofe noife cannot ceafe fuddainly : why mould you Dance at the wedding of a fecond wife ? When fcarce the Mufick which you heard at mine Had tane a farewel of you. O this was ill ! And they who thus can give both hands away, In th' end fhall want their beft Limbs.

Frank. Winni/ride, the Chamber door fafl 1

Win. Yes.

Frank. Sit thee then down ; And when th'aft heard me fpeak, melt into tears : Yet I to fave thofe eyes of thine from weeping, Being to write a Story of us two, In ftead of Ink, dip'd my fad Pen in blood. When of thee I took leave, I went abroad. Onely for Pillage, as a Freebooter, What Gold foere I got, to make it thine. To pleafe a Father, I have Heaven difpleaf d.

The Witch of Edmonton. 4 1 1

Striving to caft two wedding Rings in one, Through my bad workmanfhip I now have none. I have loft her and thee.

Win. I know {he's dead : but you have me flill.

Frank. Nay, her this hand murdered; and fo I lofe thee too.

Win. Oh me !

Frank. Be quiet, for thou my evidence art, June and Judge : fit quiet, and I'll tell all.

As they whifper, enter at one end d tti Stage Old Carter and Katharine, Dog at ttt other, pawing foftly at Frank.

Kat. I have run madding up and down to find you, being laden with the heavieft News that ever poor Daughter carried.

Cart. Why ? is the Boy dead ?

Kat. Dead, Sir ! O Father, we are cozen'd : you are told the Murtherer fmgs in Prifon, and he laughs here.

This Villaine kil'd my Sifter : fee elfe, fee, A bloody Knife in's Pocket.

Cart. Blefs me, patience !

Frank. The Knife, the Knife, the Knife !

Kat. What Knife 1 Exit Dog.

Frank. To cut my Chicken up, my Chicken ; be you my Carver, Father.

Cart. That I will.

Kat. How the Devil fteels our brows after doing ill!

Frank. My ftomack and my fight are taken from me ; all is not well within me.

Cart. I believe thee, Boy : I that have feen fo many Moons clap their Horns on other mens Fore heads to ftrike them fick, yet mine to fcape, and be well ! I that never caft away a Fee upon Urinals, but am as found as an honeft mans Confcience when hee's

412 The Witch of Edmonton.

dying, I fhould cry out as thou doft, All is not well within me, felt I but the Bag of thy impofthumes. Ah poor Villaine ! Ah my wounded Rafcal ! all my grief is, I have now fmall hope of thee.

Frank. Do the Surgeons fay, My wounds are dan gerous then ?

Cart. Yes, yes, and there's no way with thee but one.

Frank. Would he were here to open them.

Cart. He go to fetch him : He make an holiday to fee thee as I wifti. Exit to fetch Officers.

Frank. A wondrous kinde old man.

Win. Your fins the blacker, fo to abufe his good-

nefs. Matter, how do you ?

Frank. Pretty well now, boy : I have fuch odd qualms come [crofs my flomack ! He fall too : boy, cut me.

Win. You have cut me, I'm fure, a Leg or Wing, Sir.

Frank. No, no, no : a Wing ? would I had Wings but to foar up yon Tower : but here's a Clog that hinders me. What's that 1

\Father with her in a Coffin.']

Cart. That? what? O now I fee her; 'tis a young Wench, my Daughter, Sirrah, fick to the death : and hearing thee to be an excellent Rafcal for letting blood, me looks out at a Cafement, and crys, Help, help, flay that man ; him I muft have, or none.

Frank. For pities fake, remove her : fee, me flares with one broad open eye llill in my face.

Cart. Thou puttefl both hers out, like a Villaine as thou art; yet fee, me is willing to lend thee one againe to finde out the Murtherer, and that's thy felf.

Frank. Old man, thou lieft.

The Witch of Edmonton. 413

Cart. So malt thou i'th' Goal. Run for Offi cers.

Kat. O thou mercilefs Slave ! ftie was (though yet above ground) in her Grave to me, but thou haft torn it up againe. Mine eyes too much drown'd, now muft feel more raine.

Cart. Fetch Officers. Exit. Katherine.

Frank. For whom ?

Cart. For thee, firrah, firrah : fome knives have foolifh Pofies upon them, but thine has a villanous one ; look, Oh ! it is enammeld with the Heart-Blood of thy hated Wife, my beloved Daughter. What faift thou to this evidence ? is't not fharp ? does't not ftrike home ? thou canft not anfwer honeftly, and without a trembling heart, to this one point, this terri ble bloody point.

Win. I befeech you, Sir, flrike him no more ; you fee he's dead already.

Caut. O, Sir ! you held his Horfes, you are as arrant a Rogue as he : up, go you too.

Frank. As y'are a man, throw not upon that Woman your loads of tyrannic, for (he's innocent.

Cart, How? how? a woman? is't grown to a fafhion for women in all Countries to wear the Breeches ?

Win. I am not as my difguife fpeaks me, Sir, his Page ; but his firft onely wife, his lawful wife.

Cart. How ? how ? more fire i'th' Bed-ftraw ?

Win. The wrongs which fmgly fell on your Daugh ter, on me are multiplyed : me loft a life, but I, an Husband and my felfe muft lofe, if you call him to a Bar for what he has done.

Cart. He has done it then ?

Win. Yes, 'tis confefTd to me.

Frank. Doft thou betray me 1

Win. O pardon me, dear heart ! I am mad to lofe thee, and know not what I fpeak : but if thou didft, I muft arraign e this Father for two fins, Adul tery and Murther.

41 4 The Witch of Edmonton. Enter Katherine.

Kat. Sir, they are come.

Cart. Arraigne me for what thou wilt, all Middlefex knows me better for an honeft man, then the mid dle of a Market place knows thee for an honefl woman : rife, Sirrah, and don your Tacklings, rig your felf for the Gallows, or I'll carry thee thither on my back : your Trull mail to th' Goal go with you ; there be as fine New-gate birds as me, that can draw him in. Pox on's wounds.

Frank. I have ferv'd thee, and my wages now are

paid, Yet my worft punimment (hall, I hope, be ftaid.

Exeunt*

ACT. V. Scsen. i.

Enter Mother Sawyer alone.

Sawy. O Till wrong'd by every Slave? and not

O a Dog

Bark in his Dames defence ? I am call'd Witch, Yet am my felf bewitched from doing harm. Have I given up my felf to thy black lufl Thus to be fcorn'd 1 not fee me in three days ? I'm loft without my Tomalin : prithee come, Revenge to me is fweeter far then life ; Thou art my Raven, on whofe cole-black wings Revenge comes flying to me : O my beft love ! I am on fire, (even in the midft of Ice)

The Witch of Edmonton. 415

Raking my blood up, till my flirunk knees feel

Thy curl'd head leaning on them. Come then, my

Darling,

If in the Aire thou hover'ft, fall upon me In fome dark Cloud ; and as I oft have feen Dragons and Serpents in the Elements, Appear thou now fo to me. Art thou i'th' Sea ? Mufter up all the Monfters from the deep, And be the uglieft of them : fo that my bulch Shew but his fwarth cheek to me, let earth cleave, And break from Hell, I care not : could I run Like a fwift Powder-Mine beneath the world, Up would I blow it, all to finde out thee, Though I lay ruin'd in it. Not yet come ! I muft then fall to my old Prayer : Sanctibiceter nomem tuum.

Not yet come ! worrying of Wolves, biting of mad Dogs, the Manges and the

Enter Dog.

Dog. How now ! whom art thou curfmg 1

Sawy. Thee. Ha ! No, 'tis my black Cur I am curfmg, for not attending on me.

Dog. I am that Cur.

Sawy. Thou Heft : hence, come not nigh me.

Dog. Baugh, waugh.

Sawy. Why doft thou appear to me in white, As if thou wert the Ghoft of my dear love.?

Dog. I am dogged, lift not to tell thee, yet to torment thee : my whitenefs puts thee in minde of thy winding Sheet.

Sawy. Am I near death I

Dog. Yes, if the Dog of Hell be near thee. When the Devil comes to thee as a Lamb, have at thy Throat.

Sawy. Off, Cur.

Dog. He has the back of a Sheep, but the belly of an Otter : devours by Sea and Land. Why am I in white ? didft thou not pray to me 1

416 The Witch of Edmonton.

Savvy. Yes, thou diffembling Hell-hound : why now in white more then at other times ?

Dog. Be blalled with the News; whitenefs is days Foot-boy, a forerunner to light, which mews thy old rivel'd face : Villaines are ftrip't naked, the Witch muft be beaten out of her Cock-pit.

Sawy. Mull (he 1 me mall not ; thou art a lying

Spirit :

Why to mine eyes art thou a Flag of truce ? I am at peace with none ; 'tis the black colour Or none, which I fight under : I do not like Thy puritan-palenefs : glowing Furnaces Are far more hot than they which flame out-right. Jf thou my old Dog art, go and bite fuch as 1 mall fet thee on.

Dog. I will not.

Sawy. I'll fell my felf to twenty thoufand Fiends, to have thee torn in pieces then.

Dog. Thou canft not : thou art fo ripe to fall into Hell, that no more of my Kennel will fo much as bark at him that hangs thee.

Sawy. I (hall run mad.

Dog. Do fo, thy time is come, to curfe, and rave

and die.

The Glafs of thy fins is full, and it muft run out at Gallows.

Sawy. It cannot, ugly Cur, I'll confefs nothing ; And not confefling, who dare come and fwear I have bewitched them 1 I'll not confefs one mouthful.

Dog. Chule, and be hang'd or burn'd.

Sawy. Spight of the Devil and thee, I'll muzzle up my Tongue from telling Tales,

Dog. Spight of thee and the Devil, thou'lt be condemn'd. ; Sawy. Yes, when 1

Dog. And ere the Executioner catch thee full in's Claws, thou'lt confefs all.

Sawy. Out Dog !

The Witch of Edmonton. 417

Do%. Out Witch ! Thy tryal is at hand : Our prey being had, the Devil does laughing (land.

The Dog Jlands aloof. Enter Old Banks, Ratcliff, and Countrymen.

O. Bank. She's here ; attach her : Witch, you muft go with us.

Sawy. Whither ? to Hell ?

O. Bank. No, no, no, old Crone ; your Mittimus (hall be made thither, but your own Jaylors mail re ceive you. Away with her.

Sawy. My Tommie ! my fweet Tom-boy ! O thou Dog ! dofl thou now fly to thy Kennel and forfake me ? Plagues and Confumptions Exeunt.

Do%. Ha, ha, ha, ha !

Let not the World, Witches or Devils condemn ; They follow us, and then we follow them.

[ Young Banks to the Dog.

Clown. I would fain meet with mine Ingle once more ; he has had a Claw amongft 'urn : my Rival that lov'd my Wench, is like to be hang'd like an innocent ; a kinde Cur, where he takes ; but where he takes not, a dogged Rafcall. I know the Villaine loves me : no. [BarksJ] Art thou there ? that's Toms voice, but 'tis not he ; this is a Dog of another hair : this ? bark and not fpeak to me ? not Tom then : there's as much difference betwixt Tom and this, as betwixt white and black.

Dog. Haft thou forgot me 1

Clown. That's Tom again : prithee Ningle fpeak, is thy name Tom ?

Dog. Whilft I ferv'd my old Dame Sawyer, ' twas : I'm gone from her now.

Clown. Gone ? away with the Witch then too : fhee'll never thrive if thou leav'ft her ; me knows no more how to kill a Cow, or a Horfe, or a Sow, with out thee, then (he does to kill a Goofe.

* , E E

4i 8 The Witch of Edmonton.

Dog. No, (he has done killing now, but muft be kill'd for what fhe has done : (he's (hortly to be hang'd.

Clown. Is (he 1 in my confcience if (he be, 'tis thou haft brought her to the Gallows, Tom.

Dog. Right : I ferv'd her to that purpofe, 'twas part of my Wages.

Clown. This was no honed Servants part, by your leave Tom : this remember, I pray you, between you and I ; I entertain'd you ever as a Dog, not as a Devil.

Dog. True ; and fo I us'd thee doggedly, not

divellimly.

I have deluded thee for fport to laugh at. The Wench thou feek'ft after, thou never fpakefl with, But a Spirit in her form, habit and likeness. Ha, ha!

Clown. I do not then wonder at the change of your garments, if you can enter into (hapes of Women too.

Dog. Any (hape, to blind fuch filly eyes as thine ; but chiefly thofe courfe Creatures, Dog or Cat, Hare, Ferret, Frog, Toad.

Clown. Loufe or Flea ?

Dog. Any poor Vermine.

Clown. It feems you Devils have poor thin fouls, that you can beftow your felves in fuch fmall bodies ; but pray you Tom, one queftion at parting, I think I jfhall never fee you more ; where do you borrow thofe Bodies that are none of your own ? the garment- (hape you may hire at Brokers.

Dog. Why wouldft thou know that 1 fool, it availes thee not.

Clown. Onely for my mindes fake, Tom, and to tell fome of my Friends.

Dog. I'll thus much tell thee : Thou never art fo

diftant

From an evil Spirit, but that thy Oaths, Curfes and Blafphemies pull him to thine Elbow ;

The Witch of Edmonton, 419

Thou never telfl a lie, but that a Devil

Is within hearing it ; thy evil purpofes

Are ever haunted ; but when they come to aft,

As thy Tongue flaundering, bearing falfe witnefs,

Thy hand ftabbing, ftealing, cozening, cheating,

He's then within thee : thou play'ft, he bets upon thy

part; Although thou lofe, yet he will gaine by thee.

Clown. I ? then he comes in the fhape of a Rook.

Dog. The old Cadaver of fome felfe-ftrangled

wretch

Will fometimes borrow, and appear humane The Carcafe of fome difeafe-ilain ftrumpet, We varnifh frefh, and wear as her firfl Beauty. Didft never hear ? if not, it has been done. An hot luxurious Leacher in his Twines, When he has thought to clip his Dalliance, There has provided been for his embrace A fine hot flaming Devil in her place.

Clow. Yes, I am partly a witnefs to this, but I never could embrace her : I thank thee for that, Tom ; well, againe I thank thee, Tom, for all this counfel, without a Fee too ; there's few Lawyers of thy minde now : certainly Tom, I begin to pity thee.

Dog. Pity me 1 for what t\

Clow. Were it not poffible for thee to become an honed Dog yet ? 'tis a bafe life that you lead, Tom, to ferve Witches, to kill innocent Children, to kill harn> lefs Cattle, to ftroy Corn and Fruit, 6*<r., 'twere better yet to be a Butcher, and kill for your felf.

Dog. Why ? thefe are all my delights, my pleafures, fool.

Clow. Or Tom, if you could give your minde to ducking, I know you can fwim, fetch and carry, fome Shop-keeper in London would take great delight in you, and be a tender mafter over you : or if you have a mind to the Game, either at Bull or Bear, I think I could prefer you to Mal-Cutpurfe.

E E 2

420 The Witch of Edmonton.

Dog. Ha, ha ! I fliould kill all the Game, Bulls, Bears, Dogs, and all, not a Cub to be left.

Clow. You could do, Tom, but you muft play fair, you ftiould be ftav'd off elfe : or if your ftomach did better like to ferve in fome Noble Mans, Knights or Gentlemans Kitchin, if you could brook the wheel, and turn the fpit, your labour could not be much ; when they have Roll-meat, that's but once or twice in the week at moft, here you might lick your own Toes very well : Or if you could tranflate your felf into a Ladies Arming-puppy, there you might lick fweet lips, and do many pretty Offices ; but to creep under an old Witches Coats, and fuck like a great Puppy, Fie upon't ! I have heard beaflly things of you, Tom.

Dog. Ha, ha ! The worfe thou heardft of me, the

better 'tis. Shall I ferve thee, Fool, at the felf-fame rate 1

Clow. No, I'll fee thee hang'd, thou malt be damn'd firft ; I know thy qualities too well, He give no fuck to fuch Whelps ; therefore henceforth I dene thee \ out and avaunt.

Dog. Nor will I ferve for fuch a filly Soul. I am for greatnefs now, corrupted greatnefs j There I'll mug in, and get a noble countenance : Serve fome Briarean Footcloth-flrider, That has an hundred hands to catch at Bribes, But not a Fingers nayl of Charity. .Such, like the Dragons Tayl, mail pull down hun dreds

To drop and fink with him : I'll flretch my felf, And draw this Bulk fmall as a Silver-wire, Enter at the leafl pore Tobacco fume Can make a breach for : hence filly fool, I fcorn to prey on fuch an Atome foul.

Clow. Come out, come out, you Cur ; I will beat thee out of the bounds of Edmonton, and to morrow we go in Proceflion, and after thou (halt never come in againe : if thou goefl to London, I'll make thee go

The Witch of Edmonton. 421

about by Tiburn, flealing in by Theeving Lane : if thou canfl rub thy Shoulder againfl a Lawyers Gown, as thou paffeft by We/lminfler-YLa\\, do ; if not, to the Stayers amongfl the Bandogs, take water, and the Devil go with thee.

Exeunt Y. Banks, Dog barking.

Enter Juflice, Sir Arthur, Warbeck, Carter, Kate.

Jujl. Sir Arthur, though the Bench hath mildly cenfur'd your Errours, yet you have indeed been the Inftrument that wrought all their mif-fortunes : I would wifti you pay'd down your Fine fpeedily and willingly.

Sir Art. I'll need no urging to it.

Cart. If you fhould, 'twere a fhame to you ; for if I fhould fpeak my confcience, you are worthier to be hang'd of the two, all things confidered ; and now make what you can of it : but I am glad thefe Gentle men are freed.

Warb. We knew our innocence.

Som. And therefore fear'd it not.

Kat. But I am glad that I have you fafe.

Aloife within.

Juft. How now ! what noyfe is that ?

Cart. Young Frank is going the wrong way : Alas, poor youth ! now I begin to pity him.

Enter Y. Thorney and Holberts. Enter as to fee the Execution, O. Carter, O. Thorney, Katharine, Winnifride weeping.

O. Thor. Here let our forrows wait him : to prefs

neerer

The place of his fad death, fome apprehenfions May tempt our grief too much, at height already. Daughter, be comforted.

Win. Comfort and I Are too far feparated to be joyn'd

422 The Witch of Edmonton.

But in eternity. I (hare too much of him that's

going thither. Cart. Poor woman, 'twas not thy fault : I grieve

to fee Thee weep for him that hath my pity too.

Win. My fault was luft, my punifhment was

mame;

Yet I am happy that my foul is free Both from confent, fore-knowledge, and intent Of any Murther, but of mine own Honour. Reftor'd again by a fair fatisfaction, And fince not to be wounded.

O. Thor. Daughter, grieve not for what neceffity forceth ; rather refolve to conquer it with patience. Alas, me faints !

Win. My griefes are ftrong upon me : my weak-

nefs fcarce can bear them. Within. Away with her ! hang her, Witch !

Enter Sawyer to Execution, Officers with ffolberts, country-people.

Cart. The Witch, that inflrument of mifchief ! did not (he witch the Devil into my Son-in-law, when he kill'd my poor Daughter ? do you hear, Mother Sawyer ?

Sawy. What would you have ? cannot a poor old woman have your leave to die without vexation ?

Cart. Did not you bewitch Frank to kill his wife 1 he could never have don't without the Devil.

Sawy. Who doubts it ? but is every Devil mine ? Would I had one now whom I might command To tear you all in pieces : Tom would have don't be fore he left me.

Cart. Thou did'fl, bewitch Anne Ratcliff to kill her felf.

Sawy. Churl, thou ly'ft ; I never did her hurt : would you were all as neer your ends as I am, tha gave evidence againft me for it,

The Witch of Edmonton. 423

Countr. I'll be fworn, Mr. Carter, me bewitched Gammer Wajhbowls Sow, to cad her Pigs a day before fhe would have farried ; yet they were fent up to London, and fold for as good Weftminjler Dog-Pigs, at Bartholomew Fair, as ever great belly'd Ale-wife longed for.

Sawy. Thefe Dogs will mad me : I was well

refolv'd

To die in my repentance ; though 'tis true, I would live longer if I might : yet fmce I cannot, pray torment me not j my confcience Is fetled as it fhall be : all take heed How they believe the Devil, at laft hee'l cheat you.

Cart. Th'adfl beft confefs all truly.

Sawy. Yet again ?

Have I fcarce breath enough to fay my Prayers ? And would you force me to fpend that in bawling ? Bear witnefs, I repent all former evil ; There is no damned Conjurer like the Devil.

Omn. Away with her, away !

Enter Frank to Execution, Officers, Juftice, Sir Arthur, Warbeck, Somerton.

O. Thor. Here's the fad obje<5l which I yet muft

meet

With hope of comfort, if a repentant end Make him more happy then mif-fortune would Suffer him here to be.

Frank. Good Sirs, turn from me ; You will revive affliction aim oft kill'd With my continual forrow.

O. Thor. 0 Frank, Frank \ Would I had funk in mine own wants, or died But one bare minute ere thy fault was adled.

Frank. To look upon your forrows, executes me before my Execution.

424 The Witch of Edmonton.

Win. Let me pray you, Sir.

Frank. Thou much wrong'd woman, I mull figh

for thee,

As he that's onely loath to leave the World, For that he leaves thee in it unprovided, Unfriended ; and for me to beg a pity From any man to thee when I am gone, Is more then I can hope ; nor to fay truth, Have I deferv'd it : but there is a payment Belongs to goodnefs from the great Exchequer Above ; it will not fail thee, Winnifride ; Be that thy comfort.

O. Thor. Let it be thine too. Untimely loft young man.

Frank. He is not loft. Who bears his peace within him : had I fpun My Web of life out at full length, and dream'd Away my many years in lufts, in furfeits, Murthers of Reputations, gallant fins Commended or approv'd ; then though I had Died eafily, as great and rich men do, Upon my own Bed, not compell'd by Juftice, You might have mourn'd for me indeed ; my miferies Had been as everlafting, as remedilefs : But now the Law hath not arraign'd, condemn'd With greater rigour my unhappy Facl, Then I my felf have every little fin My memory can reckon from my Child hood : A Court hath been kept here, where I am found Guilty ; the difference is, my impartial Judge Is much more gracious then my Faults Are monftrous to be nam'd; yet they are mon- ftrous.

O." Thor. Here's comfort in this penitence.

Win. It fpeaks

How truly you are reconcil'd, and quickens My dying comfort, that was neer expiring With my laft breath : now this Repentance makes thee

The Witch of Edmonton. 425

As white as innocence ; and my firfl fin with thee,

Since which I knew none like it, by my forrow,

Is clearly cancell'd : might our Souls together

Climb to the height of their eternity,

And there enjoy what earth denied us, Happinefs :

But fmce I mufl furvive, and be the monument

Of thy lov'd memory, I will preferve it

With a Religious care, and pay thy allies

A Widows duty, calling that end bell,

Which though it ftain the name, makes the foul bleft.

Frank. Give me thy hand, poor woman ; do not

weep : Farewel. Thou doll forgive me $

Win. 'Tis my part To ufe that Language.

Frank. Oh that my Example Might teach the World hereafter what a curfe Hangs on their heads, who rather chufe to marry A goodly Portion, then a Dowr of Vertues ! Are you there, Gentlemen 1 there is not one Amongft you whom I have not wrong'd : you moll ; I rob'd you of a Daughter ; but Ihe is In Heaven ; and I mull fuffer for it willingly.

Cart. I, I, fhe's in Heaven, and I am glad to fee Thee fo well prepared to follow her : I forgive thee with all my heart ; if thou Had'ft not had ill counfel, thou would'ft not have Done as thou didft ; the more Ihame for them.

Som. Spare your excufe to me, I do conceive What you would fpeak : I would you could as eafily Make fatisfac~lion to the Law, as to my wrongs. I am forry for you.

Warb. And fo am I, and heartily forgive you.

Kate. I will pray for you, for her fake, who, I am fure, did love you dearly.

Sir Art. Let us part friendly too : I am alham'd of my part in thy wrongs,

Frank. You are all merciful, and fend me to my Grave in peace. Sir Arthur, Heavens fend you a

426 The Witch of Edmonton.

new heart. Laflly to you, Sir ; and though I have deferv'd not to be call'd your Son, yet give me leave upon my knees, to beg a bleffing.

O. Thor. Take it : let me wet thy Cheeks with

the lafl

Tears my griefs have left me. O Frank, Frank, Frank \

Frank. Let me befeech you, Gentlemen, to Comfort my old Father ; keep him with yee ; Love this diftrefled Widow ; and as often As you remember what a gracelefs man I was, remember likewife that thefe are Both free, both worthy of a better Fate, Then fuch a Son or Husband as I have been. All help me with your prayers. On, on, 'tis juft That Law mould purge the guilt of blood and luft. Exit.

Cart. Go thy ways : I did not think to have ftied one tear for thee, but thou haft made me water my plants fpight of my heart. M. Thor my, chear up, man ; whilft I can Hand by you, you mall not want help to keep you from falling. We have loft our Children both on's the wrong way, but we cannot help it : better or worfe, 'tis now as 'tis.

O. Thor. I thank you, Sir ; you are more kinde then I have caufe to hope or look for.

Cart. Mr. Somerton, is Kate yours or no ?

Som. We are agreed.

Kat. And, but my Faith is pafl'd, I mould fear to be married, Husbands are fo cruelly unkind : excufe me that I am thus troubled.

Som. Thou malt have no caufe.

Cart. Take comfort Miftris Winnifride. Sir

Arthur,

For his abufe to you, and to your Husband, Is by the Bench enjoyn'd to pay you down A thoufand Marks.

Sir Art. Which I will foon difcharge.

Win. Sir, 'tis too great a fum to be imploy'd upon my Funeral.

The Witch of Edmonton. 427

Cart. Come, come, if luck had ferv'd, Sir Arthur, and every man had his due, fomebody might have totter'd ere this, without paying Fines : like it as you lift. Come to me Winnifride, malt be welcome : make much of her, Kate, I charge you: I do not think but fhe's a good Wench, and hath had wrong as well as we. So let's every man home to Edmonton with heavy hearts, yet as merry as we can, though not as we would.

Joyn Friends in forrow ; make of all the

Harms pafl may be lamented, not redrefl. Exeunt.

EPILOGUE.

Win. T Am a Widow ftill, and muft not fort

-*• A fecond choice, without a good report; Which though fome Widows finde, and few deferve. Yet I dare not prefume, but will not fwerve From mode/I hopes. All noble tongues are free ; The gentle may f peak one kinde word for me.

P HEN.

FINIS.

429

NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

PAGE i. The Virgin Martir.

Of this tragedy there are four editions in quarto (1622, 1631, 1651, and 1661) ; the laft of which is infinitely the worft. The plot is founded on the tenth and laft general perfecution of the Chriftians, which broke out in the nineteenth year of Dioclefian's reign, with a fury hardly to be exprefled ; the Chriftians being everywhere, without diftinclion of fex, age, or condition, dragged to execution, and fubjected to the moft exquifite torments that rage, cruelty, and hatred could fuggeft.

PAGE 8.

So well hathfleflid his maiden fword.

A curious coincidence of expreflion with Shakefpeare <Hen. IV.) :

" Come, brother John, full bravely haft thou flefti'd Thy maiden fword."

PAGE 9.

Send your fair daughters,

Gifford fuggefts that we Ihould read "fend for your fair daughters."

PAGE 13.

In all growing Empires Etfn cruelty is ufefull;

There is an allufion to Virgil in the opening of this Speech : —

43°

Res dura, et novitas regni me talia cogunt Moliri, &c.

PAGE 13.

And robs him of his viftory, as weak Perfeus Did great ^Emilius.

It is faid that Perfeus fent to defire Paulus ^Emilius not. to exhibit him as a fpectacle to the Romans, and to fpare him the indignity of being led in triumph. ./Emilius "replied coldly : " The favour he asks of me is in his own power : he can pro cure it for himfelf."

PAGE 15.

Fair Venus fon, draw forth a leaden dart. The idea of this double effect is from Ovid : —

Filius huic Veneris ; Figat tuus omnia, Phoebe, Te meus arcus ait : — Parnaffi conftitit arce, Eque fagittifera promfit duo tela pharetra Diverforum operum : fugat hoc, facit illud amorem. Quod facit, auratum eft, et cufpide fulget acuta ; Quod fugat, obtufum eft, et habet fub arundine plumbum.

Met. lib. I. 470.

PAGE 18.

Was almoft dead with fear.

The reading of the firft quarto is drad, which may perhaps be genuine word. The fable is from the Greek. In a preceding line there is an allufion to the proverb, Procul a Jove, fed procul afulmine.

PAGE 20.

and wilt not take A Governors place upon thee.

From the Latin : ne /is mihi tutor.

PAGE 27. Gladft thou infuchfcorn ?

Theophilus, who is reprefented as a furious zealot for pagan- ifm, is mortified at the indifference with which Macrinus returns the happinefs he had wifhed him by his god. Mr. Monck Mafon

reads, " Gadde/l thou in fuch fcorn?" He may be right; for Macrinus is evidently anxious to pafs on : the reading of the text, however, is that of all the old copies.

PAGE 29.

This Macrinus

The time is, upon which love errands run Mr. Monck Mafon reads "line" inftead of time. The allufion is to the rude fire- works of our anceftors. Gifford had altered the word to "twine" before he faw Monck Mafon's emenda tion.

Ib.

To pa.fay<mr Gods in peeces.

This word is ufed again in the fourth adl. It is now obfolete, which is to be regretted, as we have none that can adequately fupply its place. Perhaps the lateft inftance of its ufe in a proper fenfe is in the following paffage of Dryden : —

" Thy cunning engines have with labour raifed My heavy anger, like a mighty weight, To fall a.ndpa/%. thee."

PAGE 31.

And arm, owing C&farea. Gifford reads " awing."

PAGE 34.

Sirra, bandog, Wilt thou in pieces tear our Jupiter, &c.

A bandog, as the name imports, was a dog fo fierce as to require to be chained up. Bandogs are frequently mentioned by our old writers (indeed the word occurs three times in this play), and always with a reference to their favage nature. If the term was appropriated to a fpecies, it probably meant a large dog, of the mafliff kind, which, though no longer met with here, is dill common in many parts of Germany : it was familiar to Snyders, and is found in moft of his hunting-pieces.

In this country the bandog was kept to bait bears ; and with the decline of bear-baiting, probably, the animal fell into difufe, as he was too ferocious for any domeflic purpofe. (See alfo Jh Witch of Edmonton, pp. 40$, 421.)

432

PAGE 49. // is the ancientft godling ; do not fear him.

So all the old copies : but Monck Mafon, and after him Gifford, read "patient'ft."

PAGE 55. And to bear money to a fort of rogues.

i. e. fet, parcel, lot. The word occurs fo frequently in this fenfe in our old writers that it is unneceflary to give any examples of it.

Ib.

before that peevijh Lady Had to do with you.

" Peevifli " vs,foolifh. Thus, in The Merry Wives of Wind/or, Mrs. Quickly fays of her fellow-fervant : " His worft fault is that he is given to prayer ; he is fomething/#?z/j/^ that way." Malone was miftaken in fuppofmg this to be one of Dame Quickly's blun ders, and that me meant to fay precife. Again, in God's Revenge again/I Adultery : " Albemare kept a man-fool of fome forty years old in his houfe, who indeed was fo naturally peevijh as not Milan, hardly Italy, could match him for fimplicity."

PAGE 61. 0 treafure, &c.

Monck Mafon, and after him Gifford, read " To treafure," and remove the note of interrogation at the end of the fecond line.

PAGE 62.

you hitherto

Have flill had goodnefs fpar'd within your eyes Let not that orb be broken.

Sparred \$>Jhut up, enclofed. But the word orb in the laft line fuggefts "fphered" as the more appropriate and probably the correct reading. This emendation was fuggefted by Monck Mafon and adopted by Gifford.

PAGE 65.

ANG. They are come, fir, at your call. Gifford affigns this fpeech to Macrinus.

433

PAGE 69.

if I were to beat a buck, Icanfirike no hardet. To buck is to wafli clothes by laying them on a fmooth plank or ftone, and beating them with a pole flattened at the fides.

PAGE 71.

Cupid once more hath changed hisjhafts with death, And kills in/lead of giving life.

This is a beautiful allufion to a little poem among the Elegies of Secundus (lib. ii. Eleg. 6). Cupid and Death unite in the definition of a lover, and in endeavouring to recover their weapons from the body of the victim, commit a mutual miftake, each plucking out the fhafts of the other.

PAGE 73.

your fain }d Hefperian Orchards : The Golden fruit kept by the watchful Dragon, Which did require Hercules to get it.

See Maffinger's Emperor of the Eajl (1632), aft iv. fc. 2 :— " Thofe golden apples in the Hefperian orchards So ftrongly guarded by the watchful dragon, As they required great Hercules to get them."

PAGE 77,

As a curious Painter When he has made fame admirable piece.

Inftead of admirable, the later quartos have "honourable," and even Gifford has overlooked the true reading of the firft edition in this paffage.

PAGE 80. Nets at Barli-break, and the laft couple are now in hell.

To the amufement of barley-break allufions occur repeatedly in our old writers. (See Dekker's Honejl Whore, vol. ii. p. 85, 374.) This celebrated paftime was played by fix people (three of each fex) who were coupled by lot. A piece of ground was then chofen, and divided into three compartments, of which the

F F

434

middle one was called hell. It was the object of the couple condemned to this divifion to catch the others, who advanced from the two extremities ; in which cafe a change of fituation took place, and hell was filled by the couple who were excluded by preoccupation from the other places. In this catching, how ever, there was fome difficulty, as by the regulations of the game, the middle couple were not to feparate before they had fucceeded, while the others might break hands whenever they found themfeives hard-prefled. When all had been taken in turn, the laft couple was faid to be " in hell," and the game ended.

PAGE 84. EP. This happy match, &c.

Gifford affigns this fpeech to Maximinus. It is, he fays, evi dent that the King of Epire cannot be the fpeaker.

PAGE 113. The Feild of Happines.

The name beftowed upon this pageant, as is remarked by Malcolm (Londinium Redivivum, vol. ii.), "is a quibble upon the name of the mayor, Campbell, reverfed into the French words le bell or beau- champ, a beautiful field or country ; to which were invited, and hither came, Titan, Flora, Ceres, Pomona, Ver, and Eftas, from their blifsful fields, to ride through the dirty ftreets, and a crowd who knew them not." From an examina tion of the books of the Ironmongers' Company, he adds, " the fum paid for thefe pageants, including every expenfe, was ^i 80. The fea-lion and eflridge were preferved, and placed in the hall (of the company), and thirty-two trumpeters were employed."

In Strype's Stow we are told that Sir James Campbell was fon of Sir Thomas Campbell, ironmonger, who was mayor in 1609, to whom Dekker alludes in the dedication to the pageant here reprinted, and who was himfelf " fon to Robert Campbell, of Fulfam, in Norfolk."

A copy of this rare pageant, with two leaves in manufcript in the handwriting of Mr. Rhodes, was fold with the reft of his library, April, 1825 ; this copy is now in the poffeflion of Mr. Payne Collier. A perfect copy is in the library of the Duke of Devonfhire.

435

It fhould be mentioned that two-thirds of the original title- page is occupied by a large woodcut of the ironmongers' arms, which have fo encroached upon the ufual fpace, that no imprint appears in either of the copies above alluded to.

PAGE 118. Sr. John Shaw. Lord Mayor in 1501.

PAGE 120. the wilde boare has tujked up his vine.

An allufion to the famous thirty years' war at this time raging on the continent of Europe. It had commenced in 1619, when Frederick, the Elector Palatine, who married the daughter of James the Firfl, accepted the crown of Bohemia. The war was confidered as a religious one — a ftruggle between Catholic and Proteflant interefts, and was always warmly and favourably advocated in this country, many high-fpirited young Englifh- men going to fight at their own expenfe in the caufe of the Elector and his wife, who was known as the " Queen of hearts," from her engaging manners.

Dekker's fimile is obtained from Pfalm Ixxx., verfes 8 and 13 : the vine is the church, or the true faith ; the wild, boar its enemies.

PAGE 121. the French Company.

According to Lewis Roberts' Merchant's Map of Commerce, 1638, this company traded to France with cloths, kerfeys, and bays of Englifh manufacture, and galls, filks, and cottons, from Turkey ; their imports being buckrams, canvas, cards, glafs, grain, linens, fait, claret, and white wines, wood, oils, almonds, pepper, with fome filk fluffs, and fome other petty manufactures. It was an infignificant commercial inter courfe, and the company does not appear to have been incorporated.

Ib.

this Lyon (which is cut out of wood to the life). This notice, and that on the fame page of the " eftridge cut

F F 2

436

out of timber to the life," are the only ones I remember to have met with of wooden carved figures ufed in the pageants ; but Gerard Chriflmas, who was employed in the conftruclion of this year's pageants, was an adept in that art, and it is very likely that thefe figures frequently re-appeared in other years.

PAGE 122. thunder and lightning.

Thefe words mow that fome attention to theatrical effects was occafionally indulged in.

PAGE 123. fparrowbils to cloute Paris Jhoone.

The modern way of fpelling the name ftill given to thefe nails isjy 'parables. Dekker has here given us the true etymology : the name appears to have been derived from their refemblance to the fharp bill of the fparrow.

Ib.

a golden handle make for my luifes fan.

The ladies' feather fans at this period frequently had handles of the moft coftly kind, as thofe who have vifited the Exhibition of Fans at South Kenfington will remember. In the notes to the Merry Wives of Windfor, in the variorum edition, will be found much information on this fubjecl, and fome few engravings of coftly fan handles. Steevens fays, "mention is made in the Sydney Papers of a fan prefented to Queen Elizabeth, the handle of which was ftudded with diamonds."

PAGE 124.

found, in the laft line but three, mould moft probably be bound.

PAGE 127.

Go on in your full glories.

In the original it is " Good in your full glories," but this is evidently wrong.

437

PAGE 128. Gerard Chrifmas.

In Walpole's Anecdotes of Painting (Dallaway's edition), the beft account of this artift occurs. Speaking of Bernard Janfen, who built the greater part of Northumberland Houfe, he fays : — u Before the portal of that palace was altered by the prefent Earl, there was, in a frieze near the top, in large capitals, C. JE., an enigma long inexplicable to antiquaries. Vertue found that at the period when the houfe was built lived Chrifmas, an archi tect and carver of reputation, who gave the defign of Alderfgate, and cut the bas-relief on it of James the Firft on horfeback, and thence concluded that thofe letters fignified Chrifmas dZdificavit. Janfen probably built the houfe, which was of brick, and the frontifpiece, which was of ftone, was finifhed by Chrifmas." In a note is added : — "It may be prefumed that Gerard Chrifmas was as much fculptor as architect, and, like Nicholas Stone, was equally employed in either art. The front of Northampton Houfe (as it was called when firft built by Henry Howard, Earl of Northampton, in 1614), was profufely ornamented with rich fcrolls of architectural carving, and with an open parapet, worked out with letters and other devices."

Brayley (Londiniana, vol. ii. p. 277) fays : — " The entrance gateway ftill exhibits the original work of Gerard Chriftmas, and is a curious example of his time."

He was very frequently employed by the city in the conftruc- tion of their yearly pageants, and is always highly complimented by the poets who invented them. As he was undoubtedly a man of much ability, it is fair to infer that the city were indebted to him for great improvements in their mows, as is more particu larly pointed out by Dekker this year. His fons fucceeded him in his office, which he appears to have held until his death with all due honour. He died in 1635, as appears from Heywood's pamphlet defcribing the great fliip built at Woolwich.

PAGE 133.

LODOWICK CARLELL.

Lodowick Carlell was himfelf a dramatift of no inconfiderable merit. A lift of his plays and fome account of his life may be found in Langbaine, Gildon, Gibber, and the other dramatic biographers,

438

PAGE 222. And all my Pimtoes, and Pimtillioes.

i.e. probably " puntos and puntilios." Such amiftake was very eafy in printing from a manufcript. The Hoftefs in The Merry Wives of Windfor, and Mercutio in Romeo and Juliet both ufe punto as a term in fencing.

Ib.

my fmoake goes, Out at my kitchen chimney, not my nofe.

So in the Scornful Lady of Beaumont and Fletcher : " You keep your chimnies fmoking there, your nojlrils,"

PAGE 224. Genoway. i.e. Genoefe.

PAGE 225. By cafting of thy water.

This was the phrafe in ufe for finding out diforders by the infpeclion of urine : it occurs again in Act 2. See Macbeth :

" If thou couldft, Doctor, cajl The "water of my land, find her difeafe."

And The Puritan, Act iv. fc. I. "There's phyncians enough there to call his wafer."

PAGE 230.

In fuch afea of troubles. In all probability borrowed from Hamlefs famous foliloquy.

PAGE 231.

Commend me to this Angelica.

The Angelica here alluded to, is the renowned princefs of Cathay, whofe beauty is celebrated in the poems of Boiardo and Ariofto. She is called by Milton "the faireft of her fex;" and the enamoured Vanni compares Alphonfina to her on this account.

439

PAGE 236. I know all, but play on none : I am no Barber.

Barbers, in our author's time, were fuppofed to be univerfally able to play on the lute or cittern.

PAGE 242. Fme cut ttK cockf combe.

"Cut i' the coxcomb," and "cut i' the back" were common phrafes when fpeaking of one drunk.

PAGE 255.

any man that has a looke, Stigmatically drawne, like to a furies.

i.e. mislhapen, deformed. In the third part of King Henry VI. the Queen calls Richard

" A foul mismapeny&^/wfltftf1, -v

Mark'd by the deflinies to be avoided." And in the Comedv of Errors, Adriana fays :

" He is deformed, crooked, old, and fere, Ill-fac'd, worfe body'd, fhapelefs every where ; Vicious, ungentle, foolifh, blunt, unkind, Stigmatical in making, worfe in mind."

PAGE 267.

A moath that eats up gownes, doublets and hofe, One that with Bills, leades fmocks and Jhirts together To linnen clofe adultery ', and upon them Strowes lavender, fojlrongly, that the owners Dare never fmell them after ; hee's a breaker.

This affords an explanation of a paffage in Maffinger's play. A New Way to pay Old Debts :—

" Over. I lent you

A thoufand pounds : put me in good fecurity And fuddenly by mortgage, or by ftatute Of fome of your new poffeffions, or I'll have you Dragg'd in your lavender robes to the gaol."

The term denotes that his robes were redeemed from a pawn broker's.

440

Ib. he may be fir'd.

i.e. afflicted with the venereal difeafe, which was then called the brenning) or burning difeafe.

PAGE 275. Whatfayes my moft moift-handed/!m?& Lady.

A moifl hand in a woman is fuppofed to indicate a luxurious temperament. So in Othello :

"This hand is moi/l, my lady'; This argues fruitfulnefs and liberal heart." And in Antony and Cleopatra :

" If an oily palm be not a fruitful prognoftication," &c.

PAGE 277. But not with the manner my Lady.

A thief who is taken with the flolen goods about his perfon is in law, faid to be " taken with the manner," and is not bailable : Vanni's intention was evident, but the fact was not committed.

PAGE 279. Hee'le prove a lujlie Larrence.

This would appear to have been a well-known denomination on thefe occafions. It is found in The Captain and Tamer Tamed of Beaumont and Fletcher.

PAGE 285. I know your heart is up, tho1 your knees downe.

So Shakefpeare in Richard II. :—

" Up, coufm, up ; your heart is up, I know Thus high at leaft although your knee be low."

PAGE 289.

To the Right Honorable Thomas Wriathejley, Earle oj Southampton.

Thomas, fourth Earl of Southampton, fucceeded his father

441

Henry, third earl, the friend and patron of Shakefpeare, in 1624, and died in 1667. He was eminent for his rare virtues ; more eminent for thofe of his daughter, the admirable Lady Rachel Ruflell. If more be wanting to his fame, it may be added that he enjoyed the friendfhip and merited the praife of the Earl of Clarendon.

PAGE 290.

Theophilus Bird.

Little more is known of Bird than what is told by the author of the Hi/loria Hiflrionica, that "he was one of the eminent afters at the Cockpit before the wars." He probably played in The Lady's Trial by Ford, to which, as alfo to Dekker and Ford's Witch of Edmonton, he wrote a Prologue ; and he is known to have taken a part in feveral of Beaumont and Fletcher's pieces. In 1647, wheh the fuccefs of the Puritans had enabled them to clofe the theatres and confign the great actors of that period to hopelefs poverty, he joined with Lowin, Taylor, and others, in bringing out a folio edition of Beaumont and Fletcher.

Ib. Andrew Penneycuicke.

Andrew Penneycuicke was alfo an actor of fome celebrity. He is entitled to our gratitude for having refcued not only this, and perhaps the following drama, but alfo Maffinger's admirable comedy of The City Madam from what he calls "the teeth of time."

PAGE 299. Though I die in totters.

i.e. tatters. So the word was ufually written by our old dra- matifts.

PAGE 300.

Farewell 1538, 1 might have f aid five thoufand. See Notes and Queries (3rd S. xi., June 15, 1867, p. 478).

442

PAGE 301.

The influence of thy powerfitll dreams.

Gifford confidered this an evident mifprint for "beams," which word, he, and Mr. Dyce after him, have fubftituted in the text.

PAGE 301.

To grant -what ere thou faifl for. Gifford and Dyce read " fueft."

PAGE 302. We muft defcend and leav a while our Iphere, &c.

"The 'fphere,' fays Gifford, "in which the ' lord of light ' appeared, was probably a creaking throne which overlooked the curtain at the back of the ftage ; from this he deicended to the raifed platform. Befides his robe, flammas imitante pyropo, his folar majefty was diftinguiftied by a tiara, or rayed coronet ; but this is no fubjedl for light merriment. Whatever his Jhape might be, his addrefs to the audience of the Cockpit is graceful, elegant, and poetical. I believe it to be the com position of Dekker."

PAGE 304. What bird fo fings , yet fo does wail, &e

This is a variation of the beautiful fong of Trico in Lyly's Alex ander and Campafpe, which runs as follows : — " What bird fo fings, yet fo does wail?

O, 'tis the ravifh'd nightingale.

*JU& jug> JUS> Jug, Teren,' me cries,

And ftill her woes at midnight rife.

Brave prick-fong ! who is't now we hear ?

None but the lark, fo fhrill and clear ;

How at heaven's gates me claps her wings,

The morn not waking till me fings.

Hark, hark, with what a pretty throat

Poor Robin Redbreaft tunes his note ;

Hark how the jolly cuckoos fing

' Cuckoo !' to welcome in the fpring."

443

PAGE 307.

Forjhooting glames at her.

Mr. Dyce reads "glances," which is in all probability correct.

Ib.

FOL. What bird? SOL. A Ring-tayL

So in the quarto ; but doubtlefs Humour alks the queftion and Folly makes the reply.

PAGE 308. a Spanifh pike.

i.e, a needle. Our beft fword-blades, fciffors, needles, &c., were in the poet's days imported from Spain. Thus Greene : " He [the tailor] had no other weapon but a plain Spanifh needle," &c.

Ib. Whafs hee that looks fo fmickly ?

i.e., fo finically, fo effeminately. Ford has the word in Fame's Memorial :

"heforfook Thzfmicker ufe of court humanity."

PAGE 310.

not a Lark that calls The morning up,Jhall build on any turf, &c.

" I attribute," fays Gifford, " without any icruple, all thefe incidental glimpfes of rural nature to Dekker. Ford, rarely, if ever, indulges in them. The lark is juftly a great favourite with our old poets."

PAGE 311.

take this and travel, tell the world. Gifford and Dyce read, "travel through the world."

444

PAGE 312.

And in the midle Orpheus Jhall fit and weep.

Qy ? midjl. The previous Speech of Humour is hopeleflly corrupt.

PAGE 317.

If ever for the Spring you do butfigh, I take mv bells.

i.e, fly away, — an allufion to falconry. Before the hawk was thrown off the fift, a light flrap of leather, garnifhed with bells, was buckled round her leg, by which the courfe of her erratic flight was difcovered.

Ib. Will you be merry than, #»</jawfand.

Gifford reads "jocund ;" and fuggefts " joyfome " as an alternative reading nearer the found of the word in the old text

PAGE 318.

1 fweat like a pampered jade of AJia, and drop like a Cob-nut out of Africa —

This bombaft is from Marlowe, and has run the gauntlet through every dramatic writer from Shakefpeare to Dekker. The cobnut of Africa is lefs familiar to us ; literally it means a large nut ; but we know of no fruit with that fpecific name.

PAGE 321.

Hu. He is vex'd to fee

That proud Jlarjhine near you, at -whofe rifing, &c. Gifford afligns this Speech to Delight. The quantity of the fecond line may be fet right by the rnfertion of "fo" after the verb.

PAGE 323.

hejlolefrom them fuchftore Of light, ftizjhone more bright then Jre before.

Gifford reads "of lights, he fhone :" the miftake, he confiders,

445

was occafioned by transferring the s from the preceding word to that which immediately follows it.

PAGE 326.

With what an earnejlnefs he complies Mr. Dyce reads " compliments."

PAGE 328.

TTiefe are the Peans which wefing to him, And ye wear no baies, &c.

Weber reads "And^ we wear no bays." " I think," says Gifford, "this belongs to Raybright, who, on hearing Autumn exprefs his devotion to the Sun, obferves that he does not wear the infignia of that deity, * And yet ye wear,' &c. ; to which the other replies with a boaft of his attachment to Bacchus, * our cups are only,' &c. I have, however, made no change in the former arrangement of the text." Nor did Mr. Dyce deem it advifable to do fo.

Ib.

Whofe livery, all our people hereabout Are call'd in.

There is very little doubt we mould read "clad" here inftead of calfd.

PAGE 333.

While we enjoy the blejjings of our fate:

"Here," fays Gifford, "the fourth act probably ended in the firft fketch of this drama, as what follows feems merely pre paratory to the introduction of Raybright in a character which could not have originally been in the writer's contemplation. James I. died not many months after the firft appearance of The Sun's Darling ; and I can think of no more probable caufe for the infertion of this purpurem pannus than a defire in the mana gers to gratify the common feeling, by paying fome extraordinary compliment to the youthful monarch, his fucceffor. On the fcore of poetry, the fpeeches of Winter are entitled to praife ; but they grievoufly offend on the fide of propriety, and bear no rela-

446

tion whatever to the previous language and conduct of Ray- bright. But the readers of our ancient drama mufl be prepared for inconfiftencies of this kind, and be as indulgent to them as poffible, in confideration of the many excellencies by which they are almoft invariably redeemed. "

PAGE 334. What fuch murmurings does your gall brins; forth.

Gifford, following Weber, reads "fullen murmnrings," and adds " What the genuine word was, it is not eafy to fay : the former edition reads 'fullenj to which I have no other objection than that the disfatiffaction of the clowns is loud and violent. With a different pointing, the old text might Hand."

PAGE 337.

and Turtle-footed Peace Dance like a Fairie through his realms.

This, as well as feveral other expreffions in this elegant " augury" is taken from the beautiful addrefs to Elizabeth, in Jonson's Epilogue to Every Man out of his Humour ;

" The throat of War be flopp'd within her land, And turtle-footed Peace dance fairy-rings About her court," &c.

Ib. To feel the ice fal from my crifled skin ;

"This word," fays Gifford, "is familiar to me, though- 1 can give no example of it. In Devonshire, where Ford muft have often heard it, it means that roughening, mrivelling effect of fevere cold upon the skin known in other counties by the name of goofe-flejh!'

PAGE 338. The rare matcttd twins at once, pittie and pleafure.

Between this line and that which follows in the text fomething is evidently loft.

447

PAGE 341.

his father me thinks fhould be one of the Dunce-table. An inferior table provided in fome inns of court, it is faid, for the poorer or duller ftudents. — GiFFORD. Probably alfo a play on the word Dun/table (vide infra, p. 448).

PAGE 345.

The Witch of Edmonton : a known true Story Compofed into a Tragi- Comedy By divers well-ejleemed Poets; William Rowley, Thomas Dekker, John Ford, &c.

This tragi-comedy, though not publifhed till 1658, appears to have been brought on the ftage in 1623. There is a rude wooden cut on the original title, with a portrait of the witch, Mother Sawyer, — her familiar, a black dog — and Cuddy Banks, the clown of the piece, in the water. That no doubts might arife of the likeneffes, the portraits are refpeclively authenticated by their proper names.

In the title-page of this drama the name of Dekker is placed between thofe of his coadjutors, Rowley and Ford. It feems to have been a trick of the trade, in their diftrefs, to accumulate a nnmber of names in the title-page, to catch as many readers as poffible ; and Rowley's was defervedly a very marketable name. Not content with the trio, they add an "&c." With thefe we need not meddle, and we may venture to difmifs Rowley with the allowance of an occafional paffage, fince the drama feems fairly to divide itfelf between the other two, whofe ftyle is well underftood, and here ftrongly marked. ,^^

PAGE 347.

W. Mago \

W. Hamluc\ ^° Country-men.

W. Mago and W. Hamluc (or Hamlec) were probably the names of two inferior actors.

PAGE 353. Frank, 1 will be a friend, and fuch a friend.

In the original quarto, the firft a is wanting. Gifford and Dyce infert "thy" in brackets.

448

PAGE 354.

But what is that to quit. Gifford and Dyce read " But what is there to quit."

PAGE 355.

Had not my Laundrefs Given way to your immoderate wafte of Vertue.

For laundrefs Mr. Dyce fuggefts we ftiould read " lewdnefs ;" as in the fifth act (p. 422) Winnifrede fpeaks of her "luft." " The * laundrefs' and the ' immoderate wafte of virtue* of Sir Arthur," fays Gifford, " are either fragments of loft lines, or ridiculous corruptions of the original." Laundreffes may have fometimes had their office to perform hi fuch cafes, but the "wafte" they had to deal with was of a different defcription. It is curious that the word is ufed correctly in a later paflage of the- fame play (page 406): "any Temple Bar Laundrefs t that waflies and wrings Lawyers."

PAGE 356.

There freeze in your old Cloyjler. Gifford would read " cold."

PAGE 364.

I am plain Dunftable. i. e. blunt and honeft.

PAGE 365.

In vain he flees, whofe deftiny purfues him. "Thus far," fays Gifford, "the hand of Ford is vifible in every line. Of the act which follows, much may be fet down without hefitation to the credit of Dekker."

Ib. Forefpeaks their Cattle.

A very common term for bewitch. Thus Burton : — " They are furely forfpoken, or bewitched." — Anatomy of Melancholy. And Jonfon, in the Staple of News :— " Pray God fome on us be not a witch, goffip, \sforfpeak the matter thus."

449

PAGE 367. Crooked Lane kd from Eaftcheap to Fifh-ftreet-hill, oppofite the Monument.

PAGE 374.

m go neer to make at Eaglet elfe. Gifford and Dyce read " to make a taglet."

PAGE 375. She'll keep afurer compafs.

The metaphor is ftill from archery. Arrows mot compafs- wife — that is, with a certain elevation — were generally confidered as going more fteadily to the mark.

PAGE 377. In thy chajle brefl.

The break in the line probably indicates that the compofitor could not make out the word in the manufcript. "The florid and overftrained nature of Frank's language," fays Gifford, "which is evidently affumed, to difguife his real feelings, is well contrafted with the pure and affectionate fimplicity of Sufan. If this part of the act be given to Dekker (as I believe it muft be), it reflects great credit on his tafte and judgment ; for rarely fliall we find a fcene more tenderly and skilfully wrought."

PAGE 383. if ever we be married, itJJiall be at Barking- Church.

Barking Church stood at the bottom of Seething-lane. It was deftroyed in the great fire of 1666.

PAGE 387.

Some door I think it was. i. e. (for, a cockchafer or beetle.

PAGE 391.

/// not turn from it, if you be earfl, Sir. <??.•— "earneft?"

4 G G

450

PAGE 404. Oh my Ribs are made of a paynd Hofe, and they break.

Paned hofe were compofed of stripes (panels) of different coloured cloth or fluff, occafionally intermixed with ftrips of filk or velvet ftitched together, and therefore liable to break, or be feam-rent.

^ ,ils j-nofajsi.';-- ...

Ib.

You fee your work, Mother Bumby.

Farmer Banks is very familiar with the names of our old plays. Mother Bombie is the title of one of Lyly's comedies, of which me is the heroine ; as is Gammer Gurton (as he calls the witch below) of the farcical drama which takes its name from her and her needle.

PAGE 405. this is no Paris-Garden Bandog neither.

A fierce kind of maftiff kept to bait bears. Paris-garden, where thefe brutal fports were regularly exhibited, was fituated on the Bankfide in Southwark, clofe to the Globe Theatre, fo that there was a delectable communion of amufements. Ben Jonfon adverts to this with great bitternefs. The garden is faid to have had its name from one De Paris, who built a houfe there in the reign of Richard II.

PAGE 406.

neither is this the black Dog of Newgate. There is a tract, in profe and verfe, attributed to Luke Hatton, entitled The Black Dog of Newgate; and we learn from Hen- flowe's Diary that there was a play by Hathway, Day, Smith, &c., with the fame title.

PAGE 415.

fo that my bulch Jhew but his fwarth cheek to me.

Literally, a calf ; fometimes ufed, as here, for an expreffion of kindnefs ; but generally indicative of familiarity and contempt.

451

PAGE 420. Serve fome Briarean Footdoth-ftruter.

Footcloths were the ornamental houfmgs or trappings flung over the pads of ftate-horfes. On thefe the great lawyers then rode to Weftminfter-hall, and, as our authors intimate, the great courtiers to St. James's. The allufion to " the Dragons Tayl," in the feventh line of the fpeech, is to Revelation, xii. 4.

THE END.

OH

LONDON :

J. BRAWN, 13, PRINCES STREET, LITTLE QUEEN STREET HIGH HOLBORN, w.c.

PR

2481

S5

1873

v.4

Dekker, Thomas Dramatic works

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