Part 18

_Soto._ And by this Ladder?

_Cla._ By that Ladder, coxcombe.

_Soto._ Have ye any more necks at home when this is broken, For this will crack with the best friend he has Sir? Or can you pitch of all four, like an Ape now? Let me see you tumble.

_Cla._ You are very pleasant Sir.

_Soto._ No truly Sir, I should be loath to see ye Come fluttering down like a young Rook, cry squab, And take ye up with your brains beaten into your buttocks.

_Cla._ Hold your peace Asse: who's this stands musing here? _Sylvio?_

_Sil._ Who calls me?

_Cla._ One most glad to see you Sir.

_Sil._ My dearest _Claudio_? what make you thus private, And with a preparation of this nature?

_Soto._ We have leave to play, and are going to climb Birds nests.

_Sil._ Prethee what is it friend? why start ye from me? Is your old Mistriss grown so coy and cruel, She must be scal'd? it seems you are loath to tell me, Since twenty years continuance of our friendship May not be worth the weight of such a secret, 'Twill be but rude to aske again: save ye.

_Cla._ Nay stay, dear _Silvio_, if you love me take it: For till you know it, never woman labour'd As I do now.

_Sil._ I'll doe my best to ease it.

_Cla._ You have heard the Lady _Belvidere_--

_Sil._ What heard Sir?

_Cla._ Heard to the Cittadel, upon some fears She is confin'd.

_Sil._ Why dreams he on this beauty? 'Tis true, I have heard it.

_Cla._ And that no access, No blessing from those eyes, but with much hazard, Even hazard of a life.

_Sil._ He dares not love her; I have heard that too: but whither points your purpose?

_Cla._ Oh _Silvio_, let me speak that none may hear me, None but thy truth: I have lov'd this Lady long, Long given away my life to her devotion, Long dwelt upon that beauty to my ruine.

_Sil._ Do's she know this?

_Cla._ No, there begins my misery, _Ixion_-like, I have only yet clasp'd clouds, And fed upon poor empty dreams that starve me.

_Sil._ And what do you mean to do now?

_Cla._ Though I dye for't. Though all the tortures in the world hung on me, Arm'd with imperious Love, I stand prepar'd now, With this to reach her Chamber: there to see her, And tell her boldly with what truth I love her.

_Sil._ 'Twill not be easily done Sir.

_Cla._ Oh my _Silvio_, The hardest things are sweetest in possession.

_Sil._ Nor will shew much discretion.

_Cla._ Love is blind man, And he that looks for reason there far blinder.

_Sil._ Have ye consider'd ripely?

_Cla._ All that may fall, And arm'd against that all.

_Sil._ Her honor too? What she may suffer in this rash adventure The beauty of her name?

_Cla._ I'll doe it closely, And only at her window, with that caution--

_Sil._ Are there no Guards?

_Cla._ Corruption chokes their service.

_Sil._ Or do you hold her bred so light a woman To hold commerce with strange tongues?

_Cla._ Why this service, This only hazard of my life must tell her, Though she were _Vestas_ self, I must deserve her.

_Sil._ I would not have ye go: pray let it sink here, And think a nobler way to raise your service, A safer and a wiser.

_Cla._ 'Tis too late, Sir.

_Sil._ Then I must say, You shall not goe.

_Cla._ I shall not?

_Sil._ You shall not go: that part bred with ye, friendship Bids me say boldly so, and you observe me.

_Cla._ You stretch that tye too far.

_Sil._ I'll stretch it farther: The honor that I bear that spotless virtue You fouly seek to taint, unnobly covet, Bids me command ye stay: if not, thus force ye.

_Soto._ This will be worse than climbing.

_Cla._ Why do ye draw Sir?

_Sil._ To kill thee, if thy base will be thy Master.

_Cla._ I ever was your friend.

_Sil._ Whilst thou wert honest, And not a Night-thief of anothers honor; I never call'd a fool my friend, a mad man, That durst expose his fame to all opinions, His life to unhonest dangers: I never lov'd him, Durst know his name, that sought a Virgins ruine, Nor ever took I pleasure in acquaintance With men, that give as loose rains to their fancies As the wild Ocean to his raging fluxes: A noble soul I twin with, and my love Followes his life, dares master his affections. Will ye give off, or fight?

_Cla._ I will not fight with ye: The sacred name of friend ties up that anger, Rather I'll study.

_Sil._ Do, to be a friend still.

_Cla._ If this way, I shall never hold.

_Sil._ I'll watch ye: And if I catch ye false: by heaven ye dye for't, All love forgot.

_Cla._ When I fear that, I am fit for't. [_Exeunt._

_Scæna Secunda._

_Enter_ Lopez _at a Table with Jewels and Money upon_ _it, an Egg roasting by a Candle_.

_Lop._ Whilst prodigal young gaudy fools are banqueting, And launching out their states to catch the giddy, Thus do I study to preserve my fortune, And hatch with care at home the wealth that Saints me. Here's Rubies of _Bengala,_ rich, rich, glorious; These Diamonds of _Ormus_ bought for little, Here vented at the price of Princes Ransomes; How bright they shine like constellations, The South Seas treasure here, Pearl, fair and orient Able to equal _Cleopatra's_ Banquet: Here chains of lesser stones for Ladies lusters, Ingotts of Gold, Rings, Brooches, bars of Silver, These are my studies to set off in sale well, And not in sensual surfeits to consume 'em; How rosts mine egg; he heats apace, I'll turn him: _Penurio_, where you knave do you wait? _Penurio_, You lazie knave.

_Pen._ Did you call Sir?

_Lop._ Where's your Mistriss? What vanity holds her from her attendance?

_Pen._ The very sight of this egg has made him cockish, What would a dozen butter'd do? She is within Sir.

_Lop._ Within Sir, at what thrif[t] ye knave? what getting?

_Pen._ Getting a good stomach Sir, and she knew where to get meat to it, She is praying heartily upon her knees Sir, That Heaven would send her a good bearing dinner.

_Lop._ Nothing but gluttony and surfeit thought on, Health flung behind: had she not yesternight sirrah Two Sprats to supper, and the oil allowable? Was she not sick with eating? Hadst not thou, (Thou most ungrateful knave, that nothing satisfies) The water that I boil'd my other egg in To make thee hearty broth?

_Pen._ 'Tis true, I had Sir; But I might as soon make the Philosophers Stone on't, You gave it me in water, and but for manners sake, I could give it you again, in wind, it was so hearty I shall turn pissing-Conduit shortly: my Mistriss comes, Sir.

_Enter_ Isabella.

_Lop._ Welcome my Dove.

_Isab._ Pray ye keep your welcome to ye, Unless it carries more than words to please me, Is this the joy to be a Wife? to bring with me, Besides the nobleness of blood I spring from, A full and able portion to maintain me? Is this the happiness of youth and beauty, The great content of being made a Mistriss, To live a Slave subject to wants and hungers, To jealousies for every eye that wanders? Unmanly jealousie.

_Lop._ Good _Isabella_.

_Isab._ Too good for you: do you think to famish me, Or keep me like an Alms-woman in such rayment, Such poor unhandsome weeds? am I old, or ugly? I never was bred thus: and if your misery Will suffer wilful blindness to abuse me, My patience shall be no Bawd to mine own ruine.

_Pen._ Tickle him Mistris: to him.

_Isab._ Had ye love in ye, Or any part of man--

_Pen._ Follow that Mistriss.

_Isab._ Or had humanity but ever known ye, You would shame to use a woman of my way thus, So poor, and basely; you are strangely jealous of me If I should give ye cause.

_Lop._ How _Isabella_?

_Isab._ As do not venture this way to provoke me.

_Pen._ Excellent well Mistriss.

_Lop._ How's this _Isabella_?

_Isab._ 'Twill stir a Saint, and I am but a woman, And by that tenure may--

_Lop._ By no means chicken, You know I love ye: fie, take no example By those young gadding Dames: (you are noted virtuous) That stick their Husbands wealth in trifles on 'em And point 'em but the way to their own miseries: I am not jealous, kiss me, ---- I am not: And for your Diet, 'tis to keep you healthful, Surfeits destroy more than the sword: that I am careful Your meat should be both neat, and cleanly handled See, Sweet, I am Cook my self, and mine own Cater.

_Pen._ A ---- of that Cook cannot lick his fingers.

_Lop._ I'll add another dish: you shall have Milk to it, 'Tis nourishing and good.

_Pen._ With Butter in't Sir?

_Lop._ This knave would breed a famine in a Kingdom: And cloths that shall content ye: you must be wise then, And live sequestred to your self and me, Not wandring after every toy comes cross ye, Nor struck with every spleen: what's the knave doing? _Penurio._

_Pen._ Hunting Sir, for a second course of Flies here, They are rare new Sallads.

_Lop._ For certain _Isabella_ This ravening fellow has a Wolf in's [belly]: Untemperate knave, will nothing quench thy appetite? I saw him eat two Apples, which is monstrous.

_Pen._ If you had given me those 't had been more monstrous.

_Lop._ 'Tis a main miracle to feed this villain, Come _Isabella_, let us in to supper, And think the _Roman_ dainties at our Table, 'Tis all but thought. [_Exeunt._

_Pen._ Would all my thoughts would do it: The Devil should think of purchasing that Egg-shell, To victual out a Witch for the _Burmoothes_: 'Tis Treason to any good stomach living now To hear a tedious Grace said, and no meat to't, I have a Radish yet, but that's but transitory. [_Exit._

_Scæna Tertia._

_Enter_ Soto.

_Soto._ Can any living man, unless a Rascal That neither knows himself, nor a fashion'd Gentleman Take me for a worse man than my Master now? I am naturally proud in these clothes: but if pride now Should catch a fall in what I am attempting, 'Tis but a Proverb sound, and a neck broken, That's the worst can come on't, a Gentleman's gone then, A Gentleman o'th' first house, there's the end on't: My Master lies most pittifully complaining, Wringing and kicking up to th' ears in love yonder, And such a lamentable noise he keeps, it kills me: I have got his cloaths, and if I can get to her By hook or crook here, such a song I'll sing her-- I think I shall be hang'd, but that's no matter, What's a hanging among friends: I am valiant now as an Elephant, I have consider'd what to say too: let me see now, This is the place, 'tis plaguy high: stay at that lower window Let me aim finely now, like a good Gunner, It may prove but a whipping.

_Enter_ Silvio.

_Sil._ I saw some body Pass by me now, and though it were dark, me-thought yet I knew the clothes: ha, let me not be cozen'd, The Ladder too, ready to fling it? monstrous, 'Tis he, 'tis _Claudio_: most voluptuous villain, Scandal to womans credit: Love, I forget thee.

_Soto._ What will he do i'th' name of Heaven, what's that there?

_Sil._ And all the friendship that I bore thee, bury here.

_Soto._ What has he in's hand? I hope but a Cudgel.

_Sil._ Thy faul'ts forgive O Heaven: farewel thou traitor.

_Soto._ I am slain: I am slain.

_Sil._ He's down, and dead: dead certain, 'Twas too rash, too full of spleen, stark dead: This is no place now to repent in, only Would I had given this hand that shot the Pistol I had miss'd thee, and thou wer't once more _Claudio_. [_Exit._

_Enter_ Claudio.

_Cla._ Why should I love thus foolishly? thus desperately? And give away my heart where no hope's left me? Why should not the true counsel of a friend restrain me? The Devils mouth I run into affright me, The honor of the Lady, charm my wildness; I have no power, no Being of my self, No reason strong enough now left within me To bind my Will: Oh Love, thou god, or devil, Or what thou art, that playes the tyrant in me.

_Soto._ Oh.

_Cla._ What's that cry?

_Soto._ A Surgeon, a Surgeon, Twenty good Surgeons.

_Cla._ 'Tis not far from me, Some murther o' my life.

_Soto._ Will you let me dye here? No drink come, nor no Surgeon?

_Cla._ 'Tis my man sure, His voice, and here he lies: how is it with thee?

_Soto._ I am slain, Sir, I am slain.

_Cla._ Slain? Who has slain thee?

_Soto._ Kill'd, kill'd, out-right kill'd.

_Cla._ Where's thy hurt?

_Soto._ I know not, But I am sure I am kill'd.

_Cla._ Canst thou sit up, That I may find the hurt out?

_Soto._ I can sit up, But ne'er the less I am slain.

_Cla._ 'Tis not o' this side?

_Soto._ No Sir, I think it be not.

_Cla._ Nor o' this side, Was it done with a sword?

_Soto._ A Gun, a Gun, sweet Master.

_Cla._ The devil a bullet has been here: thou art well man.

_Soto._ No sure I am kill'd.

_Cla._ Let me see thy thighs, and belly, As whole as a fish for any thing I see yet: Thou bleed'st no where.

_Soto._ I think I do not bleed, Sir, But yet I am afraid I am slain.

_Cla._ Stand up fool, Thou hast as much hurt as my nail; who shot thee, A Pottle, or a Pint?

_Soto._ Signior _Silvio_ shot me In these clothes; taking me for you, and seeing The Ladder in my hand here, which I stole from ye, Thinking to have gone to the Lady my self, and have spoke for ye.

_Cla._ If he had hit ye home, he had serv'd ye right sirrah, You saucy rogue, how poor my intent shews to me, How naked now, and foolish!

_Soto._ Are ye sure he has not hit me, It gave a monstrous bounce?

_Cla._ You rose o' your right side, And said your prayers too, you had been payed else: But what need'st thou a Bullet, when thy fear kills thee? Sirrah, keep your own counsel for all this, you'll be hang'd else, If it be known.

_Soto._ If it be by my means, let me; I am glad I am not kill'd, and far more gladder My Gentleman-like humor's out: I feel 'tis dangerous, And to be a gentleman, is to be kill'd twice a week.

_Cla._ Keep your self close i'th' Countrey for a while sirrah. There's Money, walk to your friends.

_Soto._ They have no Pistols, Nor are no Gentlemen, that's my comfort. [_Exit._

_Cla._ I will retire too, and live private; for this _Silvio_, Inflam'd with nobleness, will be my death else; And if I can forget this love that loads me, At least the danger: and now I think on't better, I have some conclusions else invites me to it. [_Exit._

_Actus Secundus. Scæna Prima._

_Enter_ Rodope, _and_ Silvio _at several doors_.

_Rod._ Nephew.

_Sil._ My dear Aunt.

_Rod._ Would you go by thus slily, And never see me, not once send in to me Your loving Aunt? she that above all those I call my kindred, honour'd you, and placed you Nearest my heart?

_Sil._ I thank you worthy Aunt But such at this time are my occasions--

_Rod._ You shall not goe yet, by my faith you shall not, I will not be deny'd: why look ye sad Nephew?

_Sil._ I am seldom other: Oh, this blood sits heavy: As I walk'd this way late last night, In meditation of some things concern'd me--

_Rod._ What Nephew?

_Sil._ Why methought I heard a Piece, Lady, A Piece shot off, much about this place too, But could not judge the cause, nor what it boaded, Under the Castle-wall.

_Rod._ We heard it too, And the Watch pursu'd it presently, but found nothing, Not any tract.

_Sil._ I am right glad to hear it: The Ruffians surely that command the night Have found him, stript him: and into the River Convey'd the body.

_Rod._ You look still sadder, Nephew, Is any thing within these walls to comfort ye? Speak, and be Master of it.

_Sil._ Ye are a right Courtier, A great Professor, but a poor performer.

_Rod._ Do you doubt my faith: you never found me that way. I dare well speak it boldly, but a true friend.

_Sil._ Continue then.

_Rod._ Try me, and see who falters.

_Sil._ I will, and presently: 'tis in your power To make me the most bound man to your courtesie.

_Rod._ Let me know how, and if I fail--

_Sil._ 'Tis thus then, Get me access to the Lady _Belvidere_, But for a minute, but to see her: your Husband now Is safe at Court, I left him full employ'd there.

_Rod._ You have ask'd the thing without my power to grant ye, The Law lies on the danger: if I lov'd ye not I would bid ye goe, and there be found, and dye for't.

_Sil._ I knew your love, and where there shew'd a danger How far you durst step for me: give me a true friend; That where occasion is to do a benefit Aims at the end, and not the rubs before it; I was a fool to ask ye this, a more fool To think a woman had so much noble nature To entertain a secret of this burthen; Ye had best to tell the Dutchess I perswaded ye, That's a fine course, and one will win ye credit; Forget the name of Cosin, blot my blood out, And so you raise your self, let me grow shorter. A woman friend? he that believes that weakness Steers in a stormy night without a Compass.

_Rod._ What is't I durst not do might not impeach ye?

_Sil._ Why this ye dare not do, ye dare not think of.

_Rod._ 'Tis a main hazard.

_Sil._ If it were not so I would not come to you to seek a favour.

_Rod._ You will lose your self.

_Sil._ The loss ends with my self then.

_Rod._ You will but see her?

_Sil._ Only look upon her.

_Rod._ Not stay?

_Sil._ Prescribe your time.

_Rod._ Not traffique with her In any close dishonourable action?

_Sil._ Stand you your self by.

_Rod._ I will venture for ye, Because ye shall be sure I am a touch'd friend, I'll bring her to ye: come walk, you know the Garden, And take this key to open the little Postern, There stand no guards.

_Sil._ I shall soon find it Aunt. [_Exeunt._

_Scæna Secunda._

_Enter two Soldiers._

_1 Sold._ Is the Captain come home?

_2 Sold._ No, who commands the Guard to night?

_1 Sold._ I think _Petruchio_.

_2 Sold._ What's the Word?

_1 Sold._ None knows yet.

_2 Sold._ I would this Lady were married out o'th'way once, Or out of our custodies; I wish they would take in more companies, For I am sure we feel her in our duties shrewdly.

_1 Sold._ 'Tis not her fault I warrant ye, she is ready for't, And that's the plague, when they grow ripe for marriage They must be slipt like Hawkes.

_2 Sold._ Give me a mean wench, No State doubt lies on her, she is alwayes ready.

_1 Sold._ Come to the Guard, 'tis late, and sure the Captain Can not be long away.

_2 Sold._ I have watch'd these three nights, To morrow they may keep me tame for nothing. [_Exeunt._

_Scæna Tertia._

_Enter_ Silvio, Belvidere, _and_ Rodope _with a Light_.

_Sil._ This is the place I think; what Light is that there? The Lady and my Cosin?

_Bel._ Is this the Garden?

_Rod._ Yes Madam.

_Sil._ Oh my blessed Mistriss, Saint of my soul.

_Bel._ Speak softly: take me to ye, Oh _Silvio_, I am thine, thine ever _Silvio_.

_Rod._ Is this your promise, Sir? Lady your honor? I am undone if this be seen, disgrac'd, Fallen under all discredit.

_Bel._ Do you love still? Dear, do you keep your old faith?

_Sil._ Ever Lady; And when that fails me, all that's good forsake me.

_Rod._ Do not you shame? Madam, I must not suffer this, I will not suffer it; men call you virtuous, What do you mean to lose your self thus; _Silvio_? I charge thee get away, I charge you retire ye, I'll call the Watch else.

_Sil._ Call all the world to see us, We live in one anothers happiness, And so will die.

_Bel._ Here will I hang for ever.

_Rod._ As ye respect me, as hereafter Madam You would enjoy his love--nothing prevail with ye? I'll try my strength then; get thee gone thou villain, Thou Promise-breaker.

_Sil._ I am tide, I cannot.

_Rod._ I'll ring the Bell then.

_Sil._ Ring it to death, I am fixt here.

_Enter_ Bartello, _two Soldiers with lights_.

_Bart._ I saw a Light over the Garden walk, Hard by the Ladies Chamber, here's some knavery As I live, I saw it twice.

_Rod._ The Guard, the Guard there; I must not suffer this, it is too mischievous.

_Bart._ Light up the Torch, I fear'd this, ha? young _Silvio_? How got he in?

_1 Sold._ The Devil brought him in sure He came not by us.

_Bart._ My wife between 'em busling? Guard, pull him off.

_Rod._ Now, now, ye feel the misery.

_Bart._ You, Madam, at an hour so far undecent? Death, O my soul! this is a foul fault in ye, Your mothers care abus'd too, Light's to her Chamber, I am sorry to see this.

_Bell._ Farewel my _Silvio_, And let no danger sink thee.

_Sil._ Nor death Lady. [_Exeunt_ Bell. Rod.

_B[a]rt._ Are ye so hot? I shall prepare ye Physick Will purge ye finely, neatly: you are too fiery, Think of your prayers, Sir, an you have not forgot 'em; Can ye flie i' th' air, or creep ye in at key-holes? I have a Gin will catch ye though you conjur'd: Take him to Guard to night, to strong and sure Guard; I'll back to th' Dutchess presently: no less sport serve ye, Than the Heir to a Dukedom? play at push-pin there Sir? It was well aim'd, but plague upon't, you shot short, And that will lose your game.

_Sil._ I know the loss then. [_Exeunt._

_Scæna Quarta._

_Enter_ Claudio _like a Merchant_.

_Clau._ Now, in this habit may I safely see How my incensed friend carries my murther, Who little I imagin'd had been wrought To such a height of rage, and much I grieve now Mine own blind passion had so master'd me, I could not see his love, for sure he loves her, And on a nobler ground than I pretended.

_Enter_ Penurio.

It must be so, it is so; what _Penurio_, My shotten friend, what wind blew you?

_Pen._ Faith 'tis true, Any strong wind will blow me like a Feather, I am all Air, nothing of earth within me, Nor have not had this month, but that good Dinner Your Worship gave me yesterday, that staies by me, And gives me ballast, else the Sun would draw me.

_Cla._ But does my Mistriss speak still of me?

_Pen._ Yes, Sir, And in her sleep, that makes my Master mad too, And turn and fart for anger.

_Cla._ Art sure she saw me?

_Pen._ She saw ye at a window.

_Cla._ 'Tis most true, In such a place I saw a Gentlewoman, A young, sweet, handsome woman.

_Pen._ That's she, that's she Sir.

_Cla._ And well she view'd me, I view'd her.

_Pen._ Still she Sir.

_Cla._ At last she blush'd, and then look'd off.

_Pen._ That blush, Sir, If you can read it truly--

_Cla._ But didst thou tell her, Or didst thou fool me, thou knew'st such a one?

_Pen._ I told her, and I told her such a sweet tale--

_Cla._ But did she hear thee?

_Pen._ With a thousand ears, Sir, And swallow'd what I said as greedily, As great-belly'd women do Cherries, stones and all Sir.

_Cla._ Methinks she should not love thy Master?

_Pen._ Hang him Pilcher, There's nothing loves him: his own Cat cannot endure him, She had better lye with a Bear, for he is so hairy, That a tame Warren of Fleas frisk round about him.

_Cla._ And wilt thou work still?

_Pen._ Like a Miner for ye.

_Cla._ And get access.

_Pen._ Or conjure you together, 'Tis her desire to meet: she is poyson'd with him, And till she take a sweet fresh air, that's you Sir.

_Cla._ There's money for thee: thou art a precious Varlet Be fat, be fat, and blow thy Master backward.