SCENE VIII.

_Enter_ Michael, Valentine, _and_ Alice.

_Mich._ I have brought him back again.

_Val._ You have done a friendship, Worthy the love you bear me.

_Mich._ Would he had so too.

_Val._ O he's a worthy young man.

_Mich._ When all's try'd, I fear you'll change your faith: bring in the Gentleman.

_Enter_ Francis, _Servant_, _Abbess_, _and_ Cellide, _severally_.

_Val._ My happy Mistress too! now Fortune help me, And all you Stars that govern chast desires Shine fair, and lovely.

_Ab._ But one hour, dear Daughter, To hear your Guardian, what he can deliver In Loves defence, and his: and then your pleasure.

_Cell._ Though much unwilling, you have made me yield, More for his sake I see: how full of sorrow Sweet catching sorrow, he appears! O love, That thou but knew'st to heal, as well as hurt us.

_Mich._ Be rul'd by me: I see her eye fast on him: And what ye heard, believe, for 'tis so certain He neither dar'd, nor must oppose my evidence; And be you wise, young Lady, and believe too, This man you love, Sir?

_Val._ As I love my soul, Sir.

_Mich._ This man you put into a free possession Of what his wants could ask: or your self render?

_Val._ And shall do still.

_Mich._ Nothing was barr'd his liberty But this fair Maid; that friendship first was broken, And you, and she abus'd; next, (to my sorrow So fair a form should hide so dark intentions) He hath himself confess'd (my purpose being Only to stop his journey, by that policy Of laying Felony to his charge, to fright the Sailers) Divers abuses done, Thefts often practis'd, Monyes, and Jewels too, and those no trifles.

_Cell._ O where have I bestrew'd my faith! in neither! Let's in for ever now, there is vertue.

_Mich._ Nay do not wonder at it, he shall say it: Are ye not guilty thus?

_Fran._ Yes: O my Fortune!

_Mich._ To give a proof I speak not enviously, Look here; do you know these Jewels?

_Cell._ In, good Mother.

_Enter_ Thomas, Dorothy, _and_ Mary: _then_ Sebastian, _and_ Launcelot.

_Val._ These Jewels I have known.

_Dor._ You have made brave sport.

_Tho._ I'le make more, if I live Wench, Nay do not look on me; I care not for ye.

_Lan._ Do you see now plain? that's Mistris _Dorothy_, And that's his Mistris.

_Seb._ Peace, let my joy work easily, Ha, boy! art there my boy? mine own boy, _Tom_, boy, Home _Lance_, and strike a fresh piece of Wine, the Town's ours.

_Val._ Sure, I have know[n] these Jewels.

_Alice._ They are they, certain.

_Val._ Good Heaven, that they were.

_Alice._ I'le pawn my life on't, And this is he; come hither Mistris _Dorothy_, And Mistris _Mary_: who does that face look like; And view my Brother well?

_Dor._ In truth like him.

_Ma._ Upon my troth exceeding like.

_Mich._ Beshrew me, But much, and main resemblance, both of face And lineaments of body: now Heaven grant it.

_Ali._ My Brother's full of passion, I'le speak to him. Now, as you are a Gentleman, resolve me, Where did you get these Jewels?

_Fran._ Now I'le tell ye, Because blind fortune yet may make me happy, Of whom I had 'em I have never heard yet, But from my infancy, upon this arm I ever wore 'em.

_Ali._ 'Tis _Francisco_, Brother, By Heaven I ty'd 'em on: a little more, Sir, A little, little more, what parents have ye?

_Fra._ None, That I know yet: the more my stubborn fortune, But as I heard a Merchant say that bred me, Who, to my more affliction, dyed a poor man, When I reach'd eighteen years.

_Ali._ What said that Merchant?

_Fra._ He said, an infant, in the _Genoway_ Galleys, But from what place he never could direct me, I was taken in a Sea-fight, and from a Mariner, Out of his manly pity he redeem'd me. He told me of a Nurse that waited on me, But she, poor soul, he said was killed. A Letter too I had enclos'd within me, To one _Castruccio_ a Venetian Merchant, To bring me up: the man, when years allow'd me, And want of friends compell'd, I sought, but found him Long dead before, and all my hopes gone with him. The Wars was my retreat then, and my travel In which I found this Gentlemans free bounty, For which Heaven recompenc'd him: now ye have all.

_Val._ And all the worldly bliss that Heaven can send me, And all my prayers and thanks.

_Alice._ Down o' your knees, Sir, For now you have found a Father, and that Father That will not venture ye again in Galleys.

_Mich._ 'Tis true, believe her, Sir, and we all joy with ye.

_Val._ My best friend still: my dearest: now Heaven bless thee, And make me worthy of this benefit. Now my best Mistress.

_Cel._ Now Sir, I come to ye.

_Ab._ No, no, let's in Wench.

_Cell._ Not for the world, now, Mother, And thus, Sir, all my service I pay to you, And all my love to him.

_Val._ And may it prosper, Take her _Francisco_: now no more young _Callidon_, And love her dearly, for thy Father does so.

_Fran._ May all hate seek me else, and thus I seal it.

_Val._ Nothing but mirth now, friends.

_Enter_ Hylas _and_ Sam.

_Hyl._ Nay, I will find him.

_Sam._ What do all these here?

_Tho._ You are a trusty Husband, And a hot lover too.

_Hyl._ Nay then, good morrow, Now I perceive the Knavery.

_Sam._ I still told ye.

_Tho._ Stay, or I'le make ye stay: come hither, Sister.

_Val._ Why how now Mistris _Thomas_?

_Tho._ Peace a little, Thou would'st fain have a Wife?

_Hyl._ Not I, by no means.

_Tho._ Thou shalt have a wife, and a fruitful wife, for I find, _Hylas_, That I shall never be able to bring thee Children.

_Seb._ A notable brave boy.

_Hyl._ I am very well, Sir.

_Tho._ Thou shalt be better, _Hylas_, thou hast 7 hundred pound a year, And thou shalt make her 3 hundred joynture.

_Hyl._ No.

_Tho._ Thou shalt boy, and shalt bestow Two hundred pound in Cloaths, look on her, A delicate lusty wench, she has fifteen hundred, And feasible: strike hands, or I'le strike first.

_Dor._ You'l let me like?

_Mar._ He's a good handsome fellow, Play not the fool.

_Tho._ Strike, Brother _Hylas_, quickly.

_Hyl._ If you can love me, well.

_Dor._ If you can please me.

_Tho._ Try that out soon, I say, my Brother _Hylas_.

_Sam._ Take her, and use her well, she's a brave Gentlewoman.

_Hyl._ You must allow me another Mistriss.

_Dor._ Then you must allow me another Servant.

_Hyl._ Well, let's together then, a lusty kindred.

_Seb._ I'le give thee five hundred pound more for that word.

_Ma._ Now Sir, for you and I to make the feast full.

_Tho._ No, not a bit, you are a vertuous Lady, And love to live in contemplation.

_Ma._ Come fool, I am friends now.

_Tho._ The fool shall not ride ye, There lye my Woman, now my man again, And now for travel once more.

_Seb._ I'le barr that first.

_Ma._ And I next.

_Tho._ Hold your self contented: for I say I will travel, And so long I will travel, till I find a Father That I never knew, and a Wife that I never look'd for, And a state without expectation, So rest you merry Gentlemen.

_Ma._ You shall not, Upon my faith, I love you now extreamly, And now I'le kiss ye.

_Tho._ This will not do it, Mistress.

_Ma._ Why when we are married, we'l do more.

_Seb._ There's all Boy, The keyes of all I have, come, let's be merry, For now I see thou art right.

_Tho._ Shall we to Church straight?

_Val._ Now presently, and there with nuptial The holy Priest shall make ye happy all.

_Tho._ Away then, fair afore. [_Exeunt._

TO THE NOBLE HONOURER OF THE Dead Author's Works and Memory, Master _CHARLES COTTON_.

SIR,

_My directing of this piece unto you, renders me obvious to many censures, which I would willingly prevent by declaring mine own and your right thereto. Mine was the fortune to be made the unworthy preserver of it; yours is the worthy opinion you have of the Author and his Poems; neither can it easily be determined, whether your affection to them hath made you (by observing) more able to judge of them, than your ability to judge of them hath made you to affect them, deservedly, not partially. In this presumptuous act of mine, I express my twofold zeal; to him and your noble self, who have built him a more honourable monument in that fair opinion you have of him, than any inscription subject to the wearing of time can be. You will find him in this Poem as active as in others, to many of which, the dull apprehensions of former times gave but slender allowance, from malitious custom more than reason: yet they have since by your candid self and others, been clearly vindicated. You shall oblige by your acceptance of this acknowledgment (which is the best I can render you, mine own weak la[b]ours being too unworthy your judicious perusal) him that is ambitious to be known._

_Your most humble Servant_,

RICHARD BROME.

THE

CHANCES.

A

COMEDY.

Persons Represented in the Play.

_Duke of_ Ferrara. Petruccio, _Governour of_ Bolognia. _Don_ John, } _two Spanish Gentlemen, and Comerades_. _Don_ Frederick, } Antonio, _an old stout Gentleman, Kinsman to_ Petruccio. _Three Gentlemen, friends to the Duke._ _Two Gentlemen, friends to_ Petruccio. Francisco, _a Musician_, Antonio's _Boy_. Peter Vecchio, _a Teacher of Latine_ _and Musick, a reputed Wizard_. Peter _and_ } _two Servants to Don_ John _and_ Frederick. Anthonie, } _A Surgeon._

_WOMEN._

Constancia, _Sister to_ Petruccio, _and Mistriss to the Duke_. _Gentlewoman, Servant to_ Constancia. _Old Gentlewoman, Landlady to Don_ John _and_ Frederick. Constancia, _a Whore to old_ Antonio. _Bawd._

_The Scene_ Bolognia.

_Actus Primus. Scena Prima._

_Enter 2. Serving-men_, Peter _and_ Anthony.

_Peter._ I would we were remov'd from this town, _Anthony_, That we might taste some quiet; for mine own part, I'm almost melted with continual trotting After enquiries, dreams, and revelations, Of who knows whom, or where? serve wenching soldiers, That knows no other Paradise but Plackets: I'll serve a Priest in Lent first, and eat Bell-ropes.

_Ant._ Thou art the froward'st fool--

_Pet._ Why, good tame _Anthonie_? Tell me but this; to what end came we hither?

_Ant._ To wait upon our Masters.

_Pet._ But how, _Anthony_? Answer me that; resolve me there, good _Anthony_?

_Ant._ To serve their uses.

_Pet._ Shew your uses, _Anthony_.

_Ant._ To be imploy'd in any thing.

_Pet._ No _Anthony_, Not any thing I take it; nor that thing We travel to discover, like new islands; A salt itch serve such uses; in things of moment Concerning things, I grant ye, not things errant, Sweet Ladies things, and things to thank the Surgeon; In no such things, sweet _Anthony_, put case--

_Ant._ Come, come, all will be mended; this invisible woman Of infinite report for shape and vertue, That bred us all this trouble to no purpose, They are determin'd now no more to think on, But fall close to their studies.

_Pet._ Was there ever Men known to run mad with report before? Or wonder after [that] they know not where To find? or if found, how to enjoy? are mens brains Made now adays of malt, that their affections Are never sober? but like drunken People Founder at every new Fame? I do believe too That men in love are ever drunk, as drunken men Are ever loving.

_Ant._ Prithee be thou sober, And know, that they are none of those, not guilty Of the least vanity of love, only a doubt Fame might too far report, or rather flatter The Graces of this Woman, made them curious To find the truth, which since they find so blocked And lockt up from their searches, they are now setled To give the wonder over.

_Pet._ Would they were setled To give me some new shoos too: for I'll be sworn These are e'en worn out to the reasonable souls In their good worships business; and some sleep Would not do much amiss, unless they mean To make a Bell-man on me; and what now Mean they to study, _Anthony_, moral Philosophy After their mar-all women?

_Ant._ Mar a fools head.

_Pet._ 'Twill mar two fools heads and they take not heed, Besides the Giblets to 'em.

_Ant._ Will you walk, Sir, And talk more out of hearing? your fools head May chance to find a wooden night-cap else.

_Pet._ I never lay in any.

_Enter Don_ John, _and_ Frederick.

_Ant._ Then leave your lying, And your blind prophesying: here they come, You had best tell them as much.

_Pet._ I am no tell-tale. [_Exeunt._

_John._ I would we could have seen her though; for sure She must be some rare Creature, or Report lies. All mens Reports too.

_Fred._ I could well wish I had seen her; But since she is so conceal'd, so beyond venture Kept and preserv'd from view, so like a Paradise, Plac'd where no knowledge can come near her; so guarded, As 'twere impossible, though known, to reach her, I have made up my belief.

_John._ Hang me from this hour If I more think upon her, or believe her, But as she came a strong Report unto me, So the next Fame shall lose her.

_Fred._ 'Tis the next way; But whither are you walking?

_John._ My old Round After my meat, and then to Bed.

_Fred._ 'Tis healthful.

_John._ Will not you stir?

_Fred._ I have a little business.

_Joh._ Upon my life this Lady still--

_Fred._ Then you will lose it.

_John._ 'Pray let's walk together.

_Fred._ Now I cannot.

_John._ I have something to impart.

_Fred._ An hour hence I will not miss to meet you.

_John._ Where?

_Fred._ I'th' high street; For not to lie, I have a few Devotions To do first, then I am yours.

_John._ Remember. [_Exeunt._