Part 19

_Pen._ Blow you my Mistriss, Sir, as flat as a Flounder, Then blow her up again, as Butchers blow their Veals; If she dye upon the same Bury her, bury her in Gods name.

_Cla._ Thou art a merry knave: by this hand I'll feed thee, Till thou crack'st at both ends, if thou dar'st do this Thou shall eat no fantastical Porridge, Nor lick the dish where oil was yesterday, Dust, and dead Flies to day; Capons, fat Capons--

_Pen._ Oh hearty sound.

_Cla._ Cramb'd full of itching Oysters.

_Pen._ Will ye have the Dutchess?

_Cla._ And Lobsters big as Gauntlets, Thou shalt despise base Beef.

_Pen._ I do despise it, And now methinks I feel a Tart come sliding.

_Cla._ Leaping into thy mouth: but first deal faithfully.

_Pen._ When will ye come?

_Cla._ To morrow.

_Pen._ I'll attend ye, For then my Master will be out in business.

_Cla._ What news abroad?

_Pen._ 'Mas, as I was coming to you, I heard that Signior _Silvio_, a good Gentleman, Many a good meal I have eaten wit[h] him--

_Cla._ What of him?

_Pen._ Was this day to be arraigned before the Dutchess, But why, I could not hear.

_Cla. Silvio_ arraign'd? Go, get ye gone, and think of me.

_Pen._ I flie Sir. [_Exit_ Pen.

_Cla._ Arraign'd? for what? for my supposed death? no, That cannot be sure, there's no rumor of it, Be it what it will, I will be there and see it, And if my help will bring him off, he has it. [_Exit._

_Scæna Quinta._

_Enter Dutchess, Lords_, Silvio _prisoner_, Belvidere, Bartello, Rodope, _Clark, Counsellors, Attendants_.

_Du._ Read the Edict last made, Keep silence there.

Clerk. _If any man of what condition soever, and a subject,_ _after the publishing of this Edict, shall without special_ _Licence from the great Dutchess, attempt or buy, offer,_ _or make an attempt, to solicite the love of the Princess_ Belvidere, _the person so offending, shall forfeit his life_.

_Couns._ The reason why my Royal Mistriss here In her last Treaty with _Sien[n]as_ Duke, Promis'd her beauteous daughter there in marriage, The Duke of _Milan_, rival in this fortune, Un-nobly sought by practice to betray her; Which found, and cross'd, the Cittadel receiv'd her There to secure her Mothers word; the last cause So many Gentlemen of late enamour'd On this most beauteous Princess, and not brooking One more than other, to deserve a favour, Bloud has been spilt, many brave spirits lost, And more, unless she had been kept, close from their violence, Had like to have followed: therefore for due prevention Of all such hazards and unnoble actions, This last Edict was published, which thou _Silvio_ Like a false man, a bad man, and a Traitor Hast rent a-peeces, and contemn'd, for which cause Thou standest a guilty man here now.

_Enter_ Claudio.

_Clark._ Speak _Silvio_, What canst thou say to avoid the hand of Justice?

_Sil._ Nothing, but I confess, submit and lay my head to it.

_Bel._ Have ye no eyes my Lords, no understandings? The Gentleman will cast himsel[f] away, Cast himself wilfully: are you, or you guilty? No more is he, no more taint sticks upon him: I drew him thither; 'twas my way betrai'd him, I got the entrance kept, I entertain'd him, I hid the danger from him, forced him to me, Poor gentle soul, he's in no part transgressing, I wrote unto him.

_Sil._ Do not wrong that honor, Cast not upon that pureness these aspersions, [By Heaven it] was my love, my violence, My life must answer it: I broke in to her, Tempted the Law, solicited unjustly.

_Bel._ As there is truth in Heaven, I was the first cause: How could this man have come to me, left naked Without my counsel and provision? What hour could he find out to pass the Watches, But I must make it sure first? Reverend Judges, Be not abus'd, nor let an innocent life lie Upon your shaking Conscience; I did it, My love the main wheel that set him a going: His motion but compell'd.

_Sil._ Can ye believe this? And know with what a modesty and whiteness Her life was ever ranck'd? Can you believe this And see me here before ye, young and wilful? Apt to what danger Love dares thrust me on, And where Law stops my way, apt to contemn it? If I were bashful, old, or dull, and sleepy In Loves allarms, a woman might awake me, Direct, and clew me out the way to happiness: But I, like fire, kindled with that bright beauty, Catch hold of all occasions, and run through 'em.

_Bel._ I charge ye, as your honest souls will answer it.

_Sil._ I charge ye, as you are the friends to virtue, That has no pattern living but this Lady.

_Bel._ Let not his blood--

_Sil._ Let not her wilfulness-- For then you act a Scene Hell will rejoyce at.

_Bel._ He is clear.

_Sil._ She is as white in this as Infants.

_Cla._ The god of Love protect your cause, and help ye, Two nobler pieces of affection These eyes ne'er look'd on, if such goodness perish, Let never true hearts meet again, but break. [_Exit._

_1 Lord._ A strange exemple of strong love, a rare one.

_2 Lord._ Madam, we know not what to say, to think on.

_Dutch._ I must confess it strikes me tender too, Searches my Mothers heart: you found 'em there?

_Bar._ Yes certain Madam.

_Dutch._ And so linked together?

_Bar._ As they had been one piece of Alablaster.

_Dutch._ Nothing dishonourable?

_Sil._ So let my soul have happiness, As that thought yet durst never seek this bosom.

_Dutch._ What shall I do? 'has broke my Law, abus'd me, Fain would I know the truth, either confess it, And let me understand the main offender, Or both shall feel the torture.

_Sil._ Are ye a Mother; The Mother of so sweet a Rose as this is? So pure a Flower? and dare ye lose that nature? Dare ye take to your self so great a wickedness, (Oh holy Heaven) of thinking what may ruine This goodly building? this Temple where the gods dwell? Give me a thousand tortures, I deserve 'em, And shew me death in all the shapes imagin'd.

_Bel._ No death but I will answer it, meet it, seek it; No torture but I'll laugh upon't, and kiss it.

_1 Lord._ This is no way.

_2 Lord._ They say no more for certain Than their strong hearts will suffer.

_Dutch._ I have bethought me; No Lords, although I have a Child offending, Nature dares not forget she is a Child still; Till now, I never look'd on love imperious: I have bethought me of a way to break ye, To separate, though not your loves, your bodies: _Silvio_ attend, I'll be your Judge my self now, The sentence of your death (because my Daughter Will bear an equal part in your afflictions) I take away and pardon: this remains then An easie and a gentle punishment, And this shall be fulfill'd: because unnobly You have sought the love, and marriage of a Princess, The absolute and sole Heir of this Dukedom, By that means, as we must imagine strongly, To plant your self into this rule hereafter, We here pronounce ye a man banish'd from us.

_Sil._ For ever banish'd Lady?

_Dutch._ Yet more mercy, But for a year: and then again in this place To make your full appearance: yet more pitty, If in that time you can absolve a question, Writ down within this scrowl, absolve it rightly, This Lady is your wife, and shall live with ye; If not, you loose your head.

_Sil._ I take this honor, And humbly kiss those Royal hands.

_Dutch._ Receive it: _Bartello_, to your old guard take the Princess, And so the Court break up.

_Sil._ Farewel to all, And to that spotless heart my endless service. [_Exit._

_1 Lord._ What will this prove?

_2 Lord._ I'll tell you a year hence, Sir. [_Exeunt._

_Scæna Sexta._

_Enter_ Penurio, Isabella, Claudio.

_Pen._ Are you pleas'd now? have not I wrought this wonder _Non eben fatto Signieur_.

_Cla._ Rarely _Penurio_.

_Pen._ Close, close then, and work wax.

_Cla._ I am studying for thee A dinner, that shall victual thee for ten year.

_Pen._ Do you hear Mistriss? You know what a dundir whelp my Master is, I need not preach to ye, how unfit and wanting To give a woman satisfaction: How he stinks, and snores, a Bull's a better bed-fellow; And for his love, never let that deceive ye.

_Isab._ Nay sure he loves me not.

_Pen._ If he could coyn ye, Or turn ye into mettal, much might be then; He loves not any thing but what is traffique: I have heard him swear he would sell ye to the _Grand Signior_.

_Isab._ The _Turk_?

_Pen._ The very _Turk_, and how they would use ye.

_Isab._ I'll fit him for't: the _Turk_?

_Pen._ I know the price too: Now ye have time to pay him, pay him home Mistriss; Pay him o' th' pate, clout him for all his courtesies; Here's one that dances in your eyes, young delicate To work this vengeance; if ye let it slip now, There is no pittying of ye, od's precious, Mistriss, Were I his wife, I would so mall his Mazard, 'Tis charity, meer charity, pure charity, Are you the first? has it not been from _Eves_ time, Women would have their safe revenges this way? And good and gracious women, excellent women; Is't not a handsome Gentleman? a sweet Gentleman; View him from head to foot, a compleat Gentleman; When can ye hope the like again? I leave ye, And my revenge too, with ye; I know my office, I'll not be far off, be not long a fumbling, When danger shall appear, I'll give the 'larme. [_Exit._

_Isab._ You are welcome, Sir, and would it were my fortune To afford a Gentleman of your fair seeming, A freer entertainment than this house has, You partly know, Sir.--

_Cla._ Know, and pity Lady, Such sweetness in the bud, should be so blasted; Dare you make me your Servant?

_Isab._ Dare you make Sir, That service worthy of a womans favour By constancy and goodness?

_Cla._ Here I swear to ye, By the unvalued love I bear this beauty, (And kiss the Book too) never to be recreant, To honour ye, to truly love, and serve ye, My youth to wait upon ye, what my wealth has.

_Isab._ Oh make me not so poor to sell affection, Those bought loves Sir, wear faster than the moneys; A handsome Gentleman.

_Cla._ A most delicate sweet one, Let my truth purchase then.

_Isab._ I should first try it, But you may happily.--

_Cla._ You shall not doubt me, I hope she loves me; when I prove false, shame take me; Will ye believe a little?

_Isab._ I fear, too much, Sir.

_Cla._ And will ye love a little?

_Isab._ That should be your part:

_Cla._ Thus I begin then, thus and thus.

_Isab._ A good beginning, We have a proverb saies, makes a good ending.

_Cla._ Say ye so? 'tis well inferr'd.

_Isab._ Good Sir, your patience: Methinks I have ventur'd now, like a weak Bark Upon a broken billow, that will swallow me, Upon a rough Sea of suspitions, Stuck round with jealous rocks.

_Pen. within._ A hem, a hem there.

_Isab._ This is my man; my fears too soon have found me,

_Enter_ Penurio.

Now what's the news?

_Pen._ A pox of yonder old Rigel, The Captain, the old Captain.

_Isab._ What old Captain?

_Pen._ Captain courageous yonder of the Castle, Captain, Don _Diego_, old _Bartello_.

_Isab._ Where is he?

_Pen._ He's coming in: 'Twould vex the Devil, that such an old Potgun as this, That can make no sport, should hinder them that can do it.

_Isab._ I would not have him see the Gentleman, For all the world, my credit were undone then.

_Pen._ Shall I fling a piss-pot on's head as he comes in, And take him into th' kitchin, there to drie him.

_Isab._ That will not do; and he is so humorous too He will come in.

_Cla._ What is he?

_Isab._ One much troubles me.

_Pen._ And can do nothing, cannot eat.

_Isab._ Your sight now, Out of a driveling dotage he bears to me, May make him tell my husband, and undo me.

_Cla._ What would ye have me do?

_Isab._ But for a while Sir, Step here behind this hanging, presently I'll answer him, and then--

_Cla._ I will obey ye.

_Enter_ Bartello.

_Bar._ Where's my rich Jeweller? I have stones to sett.

_Pen._ He is abroad, and sure Sir.

_Bart._ There's for your service: Where's the fair Lady? all alone sweet beauty?

_Isab._ She's never much alone Sir, that's acquainted With such companio[n]s as good honest thoughts are.

_Bar._ I'll sit down by thee, and I'll kiss thy hand too, And in thine ear swear by my life I love thee.

_Isab._ Ye are a merry Captain.

_Bar._ And a mad one, Lady; By th' mas thou hast goodly eies, excellent eies, wench, Ye twinkling rogues, look what thy Captain brings thee, Thou must needs love me, love me heartily, Hug me, and love me, hug me close.

_Isab._ Fie Captain.

_Bar._ Nay, I have strength, and I can strain ye sirrah, And vault into my seat as nimbly, little one. As any of you[r] smooth-chinn'd boys in _Florence_, I must needs commit a little folly with ye, I'll not be long, a brideling cast, and away wench; The hob-nail thy husband's as fitly out o'th' way now?

_Isab._ Do you think he keeps a bawdy-house?

_Bar._ That's all one.

_Isab._ Or did you ever see that lightness in my carriage, That you might promise to your self--.

_Bar._ Away fool, A good turn's a good turn; I am an honest fellow:

_Isab._ You have a handsome wife, a virtuous Gentlewoman.

_Bar._ They are not for this time o'th' year.

_Isab._ A Lady, That ever bore that great respect to you, That noble constancy.

_Bar._ That's more than I know.

_Enter Maid, and_ Penurio.

_Maid._ Oh Mistriss, ye are undone, my Master's coming.

_Pen._ Coming hard by here.

_Bar._ Plague consume the Rascal, Shall I make petty-patties of him?

_Isab._ Now what love Sir? Fear of your coming made him jealous first; Your finding here, will make him mad and desperate, And what in that wild mood he will execute--

_Bar._ I can think of nothing, I have no wit left me, Certain my head's a Mustard-pot.

_Isab._ I have thought Sir, And if you'll please to put in execution What I conceive--

_Bar._ I'll do it, tell it quickly.

_Isab._ Draw your sword quickly, and go down inrag'd, As if you had persu'd some foe up hither, And grumble to your self extreamly, terribly, But not a word to him, and so pass by him.

_Bar._ I'll do it perfectly.

_Enter_ Lopez.

_Isa[b]._ Stand you still good Sir.

_Bar._ Rascal, slave, villain, take a house so poorly, After thou hast wrong'd a Gentleman, a Soldier, Base Poultroon boy, you will forsake your neast sirrah.

_Lop._ The matter, good sweet Captain?

_Bart._ Run-away rogue, And take a house to cover thy base cowardize, I'll whip ye, I'll so scourge ye. [_Exit._

_Lop._ Mercy upon me, What's all this matter wife?

_Isab._ Did you meet the mad man?

_Lop._ I never saw the Captain so provok'd yet.

_Isab._ Oh he's a Devil sure, a most bloody devil, He follow'd a young Gentleman, his sword drawn, With such a fury, how I shake to think on't, And foyn'd, and slash'd at him, and swore he'd kill him, Drove him up hither, follow'd him still bloodily, And if I had not hid him, sure had slain him; A merciless old man.

_[C]la._ Most virtuous Lady, Even as the giver of my life, I thank ye.

_Lop._ This fellow must not stay here, he is too handsome; He is gone Sir, and you may pass now with all security, I'll be your guide my self, and such a way I'll lead ye, none shall cross, nor none shall know ye. The door's left open Sirrah, I'll starve you for this trick, I'll make thee fast o' Sundaies; and for you Lady, I'll have your Lodgings farther off, and closer, I'll have no street-lights to you; will you go Sir?

_Cla._ I thank ye Sir: the devil take this fortune; And once more all my service to your goodness. [_Exit._

_Pen._ Now could I eat my very arms for madness, Cross'd in the nick o' th' matter! vengeance take it, And that old Cavalier that spoil'd our Cock-fight; I'll lay the next plot surer.

_Isab._ I am glad and sorry; Glad, that I got so fairly off suspition; Sorry, I lost my new lov'd friend.

_Pen._ Not lost Mistriss; I'll conjure once again to raise that spirit; In, and look soberly upon the matter, We'll ring him one peal more, and if that fall, The devil tak the Clappers, Bells, and all. [_Exeunt._

_Actus Tertius. Scæna Prima._

_Enter Dutchess, Lords, and_ Rhodope.

_Dutch._ Now _Rodope_, How do you find my daughter?

_Rho._ Madam, I find her now what you would have her, What the State wishes her; I urg'd her fault to her, Open'd her eyes, and made her see the mischief She was running with a headlong will into, Made her start at her folly, shake and tremble, At the meer memory of such an ignorance, She now contemns his love, hates his remembrance, Cannot endure to hear the name of _Silvio_; His person spits at.

_Dutch._ I am glad to hear this.

_Rho._ And humbly now to your Will, your care, Madam, Bends her affections, bows her [best] obedience; _Syenna's_ Duke, with new eyes now she looks on, And with a Princely love, fit for his person. Returns that happiness and joy he look'd for; The general good of both the neighbor Dukedoms, Not any private end, or rash affection She aims at now: hearing the Duke arriv'd too, (To whom she owes all honor, and all service,) She charg'd me kneel thus at your Graces feet, And not to rise without a general pardon.

_Dutch._ She has it, and my love again, my old love, And with more tenderness I meet this penitence, Than if she ne'er had started from her honor; I thank ye _Rhodope_, am bound to thank ye, And daily to remember this great service, This honest faithful service; go in peace, And by this Ring, delivered to _Bartello_, Let her enjoy our favour, and her liberty, And presently to this place, with all honor, See her conducted.

_Rho._ Your Grace has made me happy. [_Exit._

_Enter 1 Lord._

_1 Lord. Syenna's_ noble Duke, craves his admitta[nc]e.

_Enter Duke of_ Syenna _with Attendants_.

_Dutch._ Go; wait upon his Grace; fair Sir, you are welcome, Welcome to her ever admir'd your virtues: And now methinks, my Court looks truly noble; You have taken too much pains Sir.

_Syen._ Royal Lady, To wait upon your Grace is but my service.

_Dutch._ Keep that Sir, for the Saint ye have vow'd it to.

_Syen._ I keep a life for her: since your Grace pleases To jump so happily into the matter, I come indeed to claim your Royal promise, The beauteous _Belvidere_ in marriage, I come to tender her my youth, my fortune, My everlasting love.

_Enter_ Belvidere, Bartello, Rhodope, _Attendants_.

_Dutch._ You are like to win, Sir: All is forgot, forgiven too; no sadness My good Child, you have the same heart still here, The Duke of _Syenna_, Child, pray use him nobly.

_Sy._ An Angel beauty.

_Bel._ Your Grace is fairly welcome, And what in modesty a blushing maid may Wish to a Gentleman of your great goodness; But wishes are too poor a pay for Princes.

_Sy._ You have made me richer than all States and Titles, One kiss of this white hand's above all honors, My faith dear Lady, and my fruitful service, My duteous zeal--

_Bel._ Your Grace is a great Master, And speaks too powerfully to be resisted: Once more you are welcome, Sir, to me you are welcome, To her that honors ye; I could say more Sir, But in anothers tongue 'twere better spoken.

_Sy._ As wise as fair, you have made your servant happy; I never saw so rich a Mine of sweetness.

_Dutch._ Will your Grace please, after your painful journey To take some rest? Are the Dukes Lodgings ready?

_Lord._ All Madam.

_Dutch._ Then wait upon his Grace, all, and to morrow, Sir, We'll shew ye in what high esteem we hold ye, Till then a fair repose.

_Sy._ My fairest service. [_Exit Duke_, &c.

_Dutch._ You have so honour'd me, my dearest daughter, So truly pleas'd me in this entertainment, I mean your loving carriage to _Syenna_, That both for ever I forget all trespasses, And to secure you next of my full favour, Ask what you will within my power to grant ye, Ask freely: and if I forget my promise-- Ask confidently.

_Bel._ You are too Royal to me; To me that have so foolishly transgress'd you, So like a Girl, so far forgot my virtue, Which now appears as base and ugly to me, As did his Dream, that thought he was in Paradise, Awak'd and saw the Devil; how was I wander'd? With what eies could I look upon that poor, that cours thing, That wretched thing call'd _Sylvio_? that (now) despis'd thing, And lose an object of that graceful sweetness, That god-like presence as _Syenna_ is? Darkness, a[n]d cheerful day, had not such difference: But I must ever bless your care, your wisdom, That led me from this labyrinth of folly, How had I sunk else? what example given?

_Dutch._ Prethee no more, and as thou art my best one, Ask something that may equal such a goodness.

_Bel._ Why did ye let him go so slightly from ye, More like a man in triumph, than condemn'd: Why did ye make his pennance but a question, A Riddle, every idle wit unlocks.

_Dutch._ 'Tis not so, Nor do not fear it so: he will not find it, I have given that (unless my self discover it) Will cost his head.

_Bel._ 'Tis subject to construction?

_Dutch._ That it is too.

_Bel._ It may be then absolv'd, And then are we both scorn'd and laugh'd at, Madam; Beside the promise you have ty'd upon it, Which you must never keep.

_Dutch._ I never meant it.

_Bel._ For heaven sake let me know it, 'tis my Suit to ye, The Boon you would have me ask; let me but see it, That if there be a way to make't so strong, No wit nor powerful reason can run through it, For my disgrace, I may beg of heaven to grant it.

_Dutch._ Fear not, it has been put to sharper judgements Than e'er he shall arrive at: my dear Father, That was as fiery in his understanding, And ready in his wit as any living, Had it two years, and studied it, yet lost it: This night ye are my Bed-fellow, there Daughter Into your bosom I'll commit this secret, And there we'll both take counsel.

_Bel._ I shall find Some trick I hope too strong yet for his mind. [_Exeunt._

_Scæna Secunda._

_Enter_ Penurio.