Part 20

_Mar._ Thus Sir, I laid my hand upon my heart, and blest me And then said over certain charms I had learn'd Against mad dogs, for love and they are all one; Last thought upon a windmil, and so slept, And was well ever after.

_Rod._ A rare Physitian, What would your practise gain ye?

_Mar._ The wars ended, I mean to use my Art, and have these fools Cut in the head like Cats, to save the kingdom, Another Inquisition.

_Rod._ So old a Soldier Out of the wars, I never knew yet practised.

_Mar._ I shall mend every day; but noble General, Believe this, but as this you nam'd discourses.

_Rod._ Oh ye are a cunning Gamester.

_Mar._ Mirths and toys To cosin time withal, for o' my troth Sir, I can love; I think, well too; well enough And think as well of women as they are, Pretty fantastick things, some more regardful, And some few worth a service: I am so honest, I wish 'em all in heaven, and you know how hard Sir 'Twill be to get in there with their great farthingals.

_Rod._ Well _Mark-antonio_, I would not loose thy company For the best Galley I command.

_Marc._ Faith General, If these discourses please ye, I shall fit ye Once every day. [_Knock within._

_Rod._ Thou canst not please me better: hark, they call Below to dinner: ye are my Cabbin guest, My bosom's, so you please Sir.

_Marc._ Your poor Servant. [_Exeunt._

_Scæna Quarta._

_Enter second Host, and his Wife._

_Host._ Let 'em have meat enough Woman, half a Hen; There be old rotten Pilchards, put 'em off too, 'Tis but a little new anointing of 'em. And a strong onion, that confounds the stink.

_Host[ess]._ They call for more Sir.

_Host._ Knock a dozen eggs down, But then beware your wenches.

_Host[ess]._ More than this too?

_Host._ Worts, worts, and make 'em porridge: pop 'em up wench But they shall pay for Cullyses.

_Host[ess]._ All this is nothing; They call for Kid and Partridge.

_Host._ Well remembred, Where's the Faulconers half dog he left?

_Host[ess]._ It stinks Sir, Past all hope that way.

_Host._ Run it o'r with Garlick, And make a _Roman_ dish on't.

_Host[ess]._ Pray ye be patient, And get provision in; these are fine gentlemen, And liberal gentlemen; they have _unde quare_ No mangey Muleters, nor pinching Posts, That feed upon the parings of Musk-millions And Radishes, as big and tough as Rafters: Will ye be stirring in this business? here's your brother, Mine old Host of _Ossuna_, as wise as you are, That is, as knavish; if ye put a trick, Take heed he do not find it.

_Host._ I'll be wagging.

_Host[ess]._ 'Tis for your own commodity: why wenches:

[_Serv._] Anon forsooth. [_within._

_Hostess._ Who makes a fire there? and who gets in water? Let _Oliver_ goe to the Justice, and beseech his Worship We may have two spits going; and do you hear _Druce_, Let him invite his Worship, and his Wives Worship, To the left-Meat to morrow.

_Enter Bayliff._

_Bayl._ Where's this Kitchen?

_Hostess._ Even at the next door Signior: what old Don? We meet but seldom.

_Bayl._ Prethee be patient Hostess, And tell me where the meat is.

_Host[ess]._ Faith Master Baylie, How have ye done? and how man?

_Bayl._ Good sweet Hostess, What shall we have to dinner?

_Hostess._ How does your woman, And a fine Woman she is, and a good Woman; Lord, how you bear your years!

_Bayl._ Is't Veal or Mutton, Beef, Bacon, Pork, Kid, Pheasant, or all these, And are they ready all?

_Host[ess]._ The hours that have been Between us two, the merry hours: Lord!

_Bayl._ Hostess, Dear Hostess do but hear; I am hungry.

_Hostess._ Ye are merrily dispos'd Sir.

_Bayl._ Monstrous hungry, And hungry after much meat, I have brought hither Right worshipful to pay the reckoning, Money enough too with 'em, desire enough To have the best meat, and of that enough too: Come to the point sweet wench, and so I kiss thee.

_Hostess._ Ye shall have any thing, and instantly E'r you can lick your ears, Sir.

_Bayl._ Portly meat, Bearing substantial stuff, and fit for hunger I do beseech ye Hostess first, then some light garnish, Two Pheasants in a dish, if ye have Leverits, Rather for way of ornament, than appetite They may be look'd upon, or Larks: for Fish, As there is no great need, so I would not wish ye To serve above four dishes, but those full ones; Ye have no Cheese of _Parma_?

_Hostess._ Very old Sir.

_Bayl._ The less will serve us, some ten pound.

_Hostess._ Alas Sir, We have not halfe these dainties.

_Bayl._ Peace good Hostess, And make us hope ye have.

_Hostess._ Ye shall have all Sir,

_Bay._ That may be got for money.

_Enter_ Diego, _the Host, and a Boy_.

_Host. Diego._ Where's your Master? Bring me your Master, Boy: I must have liquor Fit for the _Mermydons_; no dashing now child No conjurings by candle light, I know all; Strike me the oldest Sack, a piece that carries Point blank to this place boy, and batters; Hostess, I kiss thy hands through which many a round reckoning And things of moment have had motion.

_Hostess._ Still mine old Brother.

_Host. Die._ Set thy Seller open, For I must enter, and advance my Colours, I have brought th[ee] Dons indeed wench, Dons with Duckets And those Dons must have dainty Wine, pure _Bacchus_ That bleeds the life blood: what is your cure ended?

_Bayl._ We shall have Meat man.

_Host. Die._ Then we will have Wine man, And Wine upon Wine, cut and drawn with Wine.

_Hostess._ Ye shall have all, and more than all.

_Bay._ All, well then.

_Host. Die._ Away, about your business, you with her For old acquaintance sake, to stay your stomach. _Exit Hostess and Bayliff._ And Boy, be you my guide, _ad inferos_, For I will make a full descent in equipage.

_Boy._ I'll shew you rare Wine.

_Host. Die._ Stinging geer.

_Boy._ Divine Sir.

_Host. Die._ O divine boy, march, march my child, rare Wine boy.

_Boy._ As any is in _Spain_ Sir.

_Host. Die._ Old; and strong too, Oh my fine boy, clear too?

_Boy._ As Christal Sir, and strong as truth.

_Host. Die._ Away boy, I am enamor'd, and I long for Dalliance, Stay no where child, not for thy fathers blessing, I charge thee not to save thy Sisters honor, Nor to close thy Dames eies, were she a dying Till we arrive, and for thy recompence I will remember thee in my Will.

_Boy._ Ye have said Sir. [_Exeunt._

_Actus Tertius. Scæna Prima._

_Enter_ Philippo, _and 2 Host_.

_Phi._ Mine Host, is that Apparel got ye spoke of? Ye shall have ready money.

_2 Host._ 'Tis come in, Sir, he has it on Sir And I think 'twill be fit, and o' my credit 'Twas never worn but once Sir, and for necessity Pawn'd to the man I told ye of.

_Phi._ Pray bargain for it, And I will be the pay-master.

_2 Host._ I will Sir.

_Phi._ And let our meat be ready when you please, I mean as soon.

_2 Host._ It shall be presently.

_Phi._ How far stands _Barcelona_?

_2 Host._ But two Leagues off Sir, You may be there by three a clock.

_Phi._ I am glad on't. [_Exeunt._

_Scæna Secunda._

_Enter_ Theodosia, _and_ Leocadia.

_Theo._ Signior _Francisco_, why I draw you hither To this remote place, marvel not, for trust me My innocence yet never knew ill dealing, And as ye have a noble temper, start not Into offence, at any thing my knowledge, And for your special good, would be inform'd of, Nor think me vainly curious.

_Leo._ Worthy Sir, The courtesies you and your noble Brother, Even then when few men find the way to do 'em, I mean in want, so freely showr'd upon me, So truly, and so timely minister'd, Must, if I should, suspect those minds that made 'em, Either proclaim me an unworthy taker, Or worse, a base beleever; Speek your mind Sir Freely, and what you please, I am your Servant.

_The._ Then my young Sir know, since our first acquaintance Induc'd by circumstances that deceive not To clear some doubts I have; nay blush not Signior, I have beheld ye narrowly: more blushes. Sir, ye give me so much light, I find ye A thing confest already: yet more blushes? You would ill cover an offence might sink ye That cannot hide your self; why do ye shake so? I mean no trouble to ye; this fair hand Was never made for hardness, nor those eies (Come do not hide 'em,) for rough objects, harke ye, Ye have betraid your self, that sigh confirms me; Another? and a third too? then I see These boys cloths do but pinch ye, come, be liberal, Ye have found a friend that has found you, disguise not That loaden soul that labors to be open: Now you must weep, I know it, for I see Your eies down laden to the lids, another Manifest token that my doubts are perfect; Yet I have found a greater; tell me this Why were these holes left open, there was an error, A foul one my _Francisco_, have I caught ye? Oh pretty Sir, the custom of our Countrey Allows men none in this place: Now the show'r comes.

_Leo._ Oh Signior _Theodoro_.

_Theo._ This sorrow shows so sweetly I cannot choose but keep it company: Take truce and speak Sir: and I charge your goodness By all those perfect hopes that point at virtue By that remembrance these fair tears are shed for, If any sad misfortune have thus form'd ye, That either care or counsel may redeem, Pain, purse, or any thing within the power And honor of free gentlemen, reveal it, And have our labors.

_Leo._ I have found ye noble And ye shall find me true; your doubts are certain, Nor dare I more dissemble; I am a woman, The great example of a wretched woman. Here you must give me leave to shew my sex; And now to make ye know how much your credit Has won upon my soul, so it please your patience, I'll tell you my unfortunate sad story.

_Theo._ Sit down and say on Lady:

_Leo._ I am born Sir Of good and honest parents, rich, and noble, And not to lie, the Daughter of Don _Zanchio_, If my unhappy fortune have not lost me: My name call'd _Leocadia_, even the same Your worthy brother did the special honor To name for beautiful; and without pride I have been often made believe so Signior; But that's impertinent: Now to my sorrows; Not far from us a Gentleman of worth, A neighbor and a noble visitor, Had his abode; who often met my Father In gentle sports of Chase, and River-Hawking In Course and Riding; and with him often brought A Son of his, a young and hopeful Gentleman, Nobly train'd up, in years fit for affection, A sprightly man, of understanding excellent, Of speech and civil 'haviour, no less powerful; And of all parts, else my eies lied, abundant: We grew acquainted, and from that acquaintance Nearer into affection; from affection Into belief.

_Theo._ Well.

_Leo._ Then we durst kiss.

_Theo._ Go forward.

_Leo._ But oh, man, [man,] unconstant, careless man, Oh subtle man, how many are thy mischiefs; Oh _Mark-antonio_, I may curse those kisses.

_Theo._ What did you call him Lady?

_Leo. Mark-antonio_ The name to me of misery.

_Theo._ Pray foreward.

_Leo._ From these we bred desires sir; but lose me heaven If mine were lustful.

_Theo._ I believe.

_L[e]o._ This nearness Made him importunate; When to save mine honor Love having full possession of my powers, I got a Contract from him.

_Theo._ Sealed?

_Leo._ And sworn too; Which since, for some offence heaven laid upon me, I lost among my monies in the robbery, The loss that makes me poorest: this won from him Fool that I was, and too too credulous, I pointed him a by-way to my chamber The next night at an hour.

_Theo._ Pray stay there Lady; And when the night came, came he, kept he touch with ye? Be not so shamefac'd; had ye both your wishes? Tell me, and tell me true, did he enjoy ye, Were ye in one anothers arms abed? the Contract Confirm'd in full joys there? did he lie with ye? Answer to that; ha? did your father know this, The good old man, or kindred privy to't? And had ye their consents? did that nights promise Make ye a Mother?

_Leo._ Why do you ask so nearly? Good Sir, do's it concern you any thing?

_Theo._ No Lady. Only the pitty why you should be used so A little stirs me, but did he keep his promise?

_Leo._ No, no Signior, Alas he never came, nor never meant it, My Love was fool'd, time numbred to no end, My expectation flouted, and ghesse you Sir, What dor unto a doating Maid this was, What a base breaking off!

_Theo._ All's well then Lady; Go forward in your Story.

_Leo._ Not only fail'd Sir Which is a curse in Love, and may he find it When his affections are full-wing'd, and ready To stoop upon the quarry, then when all His full hopes are in's arms: not only thus Sir But more injurious, faithless, treacherous, Within two daies fame gave him far remov'd With a new love, which much against my conscience But more against my cause, which is my hell I must confess a fair one, a right fair one, Indeed of admirable sweetness, Daughter Unto another of our noble neighbors The thief call'd _Theodosia_; whose perfections I am bound to ban for ever, curse to wrinckles, As heaven I hope will make 'em soon; and aches; For they have rob'd me poor unhappy wench Of all, of all Sir, all that was my glory And left me nothing but these tears, and travel: Upon this certain news, I quit my Father And if you be not milder in construction I fear mine honour too: and like a Page Stole to _Ossuna_, from that place to _Sivil_, From thence to _Barcelona_ I was travelling When you o'er-took my misery, in hope to hear of Gallies bound up for Italy; for never Will I leave off the search of this bad man This filcher of affections, this love-Pedler, Nor shall my curses cease to blast her beauties And make her name as w[a]ndring as her nature Till standing face to face before their lusts I call heavens justice down.

_Theo._ This shows too angry Nor can it be her fault she is belov'd, If I give meat, must they that eat it surfeit?

_Leoc._ She loves again Sir, there's the mischief of it And in despight of me to drown my blessings Which she shall dearly know.

_Theo._ Ye are too violent.

_Leoc._ She has Devils in her eyes, to whose devotion He offers all his service.

_Theo._ Who can say But she may be forsaken too? he that once wanders From such a perfect sweetness, as you promise Has he not still the same rule to deceive?

_Leoc._ No, no they are together, love together Past all deceipt of that side; sleep together, Live, and delight together, and such deceipt Give me in a wild desert.

_Theo._ By your leave Lady I see no honour in this cunning.

_Leoc._ Honour? True, none of her part, honour, she deserves none, 'Tis ceas'd with wandring Ladies such as she is, So bold and impudent.

_Theo._ I could be angry Extreamly angry now beyond my nature And 'twere not for my pitty: what a man Is this to do these wrongs: believe me Lady I know the maid, and know she is not with him.

_Leoc._ I would you knew she were in heaven.

_Theo._ And so well know her That I think you are cozen'd.

_Leoc._ So I say Sir.

_Theo._ I mean in her behaviour For trust my faith so much I dare adventure for her credit She never yet delighted to do wrong.

_Leoc._ How can she then delight in him? dare she think? Be what she will, as excellent as Angels My love so fond, my wishes so indulgent That I must take her prewnings; sto[o]p at that She has tyr'd upon; No Sir, I hold my beauty Wash but these sorrows from it, of a sparkle As right and rich as hers, my means as equal, My youth as much unblown; and for our worths And weight of virtue--

_Theo._ Do not task her so far.

_Leo._ By heaven she is cork, and clouds, light, light Sir, vapor But I shall find her out, with all her witchcrafts, Her paintings, and her powncings: for 'tis art And only art preserves her, and meer spels That work upon his powers; let her but shew me A ruin'd cheek like mine, that holds his colour And writes but sixteen years in spight of sorrows An unbathed body, smiles, that give but shaddows, And wrinkle not the face; besides she is little, A demy dame, that makes no object.

_Theo._ Nay. Then I must say you err; for credit me I think she is taller than your self.

_Leoc._ Why let her It is not that shall mate me; I but ask My hands may reach unto her.

_Theo._ Gentle Lady 'Tis now ill time of farther argument, For I perceive your anger voyd of counsel, Which I could wish more temperate.

_Leoc._ Pray forgive me If I have spoken uncivilly: they that look on See more than we that play: and I beseech ye Impute it loves offence, not mine; whose torments, If you have ever lov'd, and found my crosses You must confess are seldom ty'd to patience, Yet I could wish I had said less.

_Theo._ No harm then; Ye have made a full amends; our company You may command, so please you in your travels With all our faith and furtherance; let it be so.

_Leoc._ Ye make too great an offer.

_Theo._ Then it shall be. Go in and rest your self, our wholsome dyet Will be made ready straight: But heark ye Lady One thing I must entreat, your leave, and sufferance That these things may be open to my Brother For more respect and honor.

_Leoc._ Do your pleasure.

_Theo._ And do not change this habit by no means Unless ye change your self.

_Leoc._ Which must not yet be.

_Theo._ It carries ye concealed and safe.

_Leoc._ I am counsell'd. [_Exit._

_Enter_ Philippo.

_Phil._ What's done?

_Theo._ Why all we doubted; 'tis a woman, And of a noble strain too, ghess.

_Phil._ I cannot.

_Theo._ You have heard often of her.

_Phil._ Stay I think not.

_Theo._ Indeed ye have; 'tis the fair _Leocadia_ Daughter unto Don _Zanchio_, our noble neighbor.

_Phil._ Nay?

_Theo._ 'Tis she Sir, o' my credit.

_Phil. Leocadia_, Pish _Leocadia_, it must not be.

_Theo._ It must be, or be nothing.

_Phil._ Pray give me leave to wonder, _Leocadia_?

_Theo._ The very same.

_Phil._ The Damsel _Leocadia_ I ghest it was a woman, and a fair one I see it through her shape, transparent plain But that it should be she; tell me directly.

_Theo._ By heavens 'tis she.

_Phil._ By heaven then 'tis a sweet one.

_Theo._ That's granted too.

_Phil._ But heark ye, heark ye Sister, How came she thus disguis'd?

_Theo._ I'll tell you that too As I came on the self-same ground, so us'd too.

_Phil._ By the same man?

_Theo._ The same too.

_Phil._ As I live You lovers have fine fancies, Wonderous fine ones.

_Theo._ Pray heaven you never make one.

_Phil._ Faith I know not, But in that mind I am, I had rather cobble, 'Tis a more Christian Trade; pray tell me one thing Are not you two now monstrous jealous Of one another?

_Theo._ She is much of me And has rayl'd at me most unmercifully And to my face, and o' my conscience Had she but known me, either she or I Or both, had parted with strange faces She was in such a fury.

_Phil. Leocadia?_ Do's she speak handsomly?

_Theo._ Wondrous well Sir And all she do's becomes her, even her anger.

_Phil._ How seemed she when you found her?

_Theo._ Had you seen How sweetly fearful her pretty self Betray'd her self, how neat her sorrow show'd, And in what handsome phrase she put her story, And as occasion stirr'd her how she started Though roughly, yet most aptly into anger You would have wonder'd.

_Phil._ Do's she know ye?

_Theo._ No, Nor must not by no means.

_Phil._ How stands your difference?

_Theo._ I'll tell ye that some fitter time, but trust me My _Mark-antonio_ has too much to answer.

_Phil._ May I take knowledge of her?

_Theo._ Yes she is willing.

_Phil._ Pray use her as she is, with all respects then, For she is a woman of a noble breeding.

_Theo._ Ye shall not find me wanting.

_Phil._ Which way bears she?

_Theo._ Our way, and to our end.

_Phil._ I am glad on't; hark ye, She keeps her shape? [_Enter_ Leocadia.

_Theo._ Yes, and I think by this time Has mew'd her old.

_Phil._ She is here: by heaven a rare one, An admirable sweet one, what an eye Of what a full command she bears, how gracious All her aspect shows; bless me from a feaver I am not well o'th suddain.

_Leoc._ Noble friends Your meat and all my service waits upon ye.

_Phil._ Ye teach us manners Lady; all which service Must now be mine to you, and all too poor too; Blush not, we know ye, for by all our faiths With us your honor is in sanctuary And ever shall be.

_Leoc._ I do well believe it, Will ye walk nearer Sir. [_Exit._

_Theo._ She shows still fairer, Yonger in every change, and clearer, neater; I know not, I may fool my self, and finely Nourish a wolfe to eat my heart out; certain As she appears now, she appears a wonder, A thing amazes me; what would she do then In womans helps, in ornaments apt for her And deckings to her delicacy? without all doubt She would be held a miracle; nor can I think He has forsaken her: Say what she please, I know his curious eye, or say he had, Put case he could be so boy-blind and foolish, Yet stil I fear she keeps the Contract with her Not stoln as she affirms, nor lost by negligence, She would loose her self first, 'tis her life, and there All my hopes are dispatch'd; O noble love That thou couldst be without this jealousie, Without this passion of the heart, how heavenly Wouldst thou appear unto us? Come what may come I'll see the end on't: and since chance has cast her Naked into my refuge, all I can She freely shall command, except the man. [_Exit._

_Scæna Tertia_.

_Enter_ Leonardo, _and_ Don Pedro.

_Leon._ Don _Pedro_ do you think assuredly The Galleys will come round to _Barcelona_ Within these two days?

_Ped._ Without doubt.

_Leo._ And think ye He will be with 'em certainly?

_Ped._ He is sir I saw him at their setting off.

_Leo._ Must they needs Touch there for water as you say?

_Ped._ They must sir And for fresh meat too, few or none go by it. Beside so great a Fleet must needs want trimming If they have met with fowl seas, and no harbor On this side _Spain_, is able without danger To moore 'em, but that haven.

_Leo._ Are the wars His only end?

_Ped._ So he professes.

_Leo._ Bears he Any command amongst 'em?

_Ped._ Good regard With all; which quickly will prefer him.

_Leo._ Pray Sir tell me, And as you are a Gentleman be liberal.

_Ped._ I will Sir, and most true.

_Leo._ Who saw ye with him?

_Ped._ None but things like himself; young Souldiers And Gentlemen desirous to seek honor.

_Leo._ Was there no woman there, nor none disguis'd That might be thought a woman in his language? Did he not let slip something of suspition Touching that wanton way.