Part 4

_Enter_ Florimell.

_Flo._ My Lord.

_Otr._ I am sure you have now consider'd And like a wise wench weigh'd a friends displeasure, Repented your proud thoughts, and cast your scorn off.

_Flo._ My Lord, I am not proud, I was never beautiful. Nor scorn I any thing that's just and honest.

_Otr._ Come, to be short, can ye love yet? you told me Kindness would far compell ye: I am kind to ye, And mean to exceed that way.

_Flo._ I told ye too, Sir, As far as it agreed with modesty, With honour, and with honesty I would yield to ye: Good my Lord: take some other Theam: for Love, Alass, I never knew yet what it meant, And on the sudden Sir, to run through Volumes Of his most mystick art, 'tis most impossible; Nay, to begin with lust, which is an Heresie, A foul one too; to learn that in my childhood: O good my Lord.

_Otr._ You will not out of this song, Your modesty, and honesty, is that all? I will not force ye.

_Flo._ Ye are too noble, Sir.

[_Otr._ Nor play the childish fool, and marry ye, I am yet not mad.

_Flo._ If ye did, men would imagine.]

_Otr._ Nor will I woo ye at that infinite price It may be you expect.

_Flo._ I expect your pardon, And a discharge (my Lord) that's all I look for.

_Otr._ No, nor fall sick for love.

_Flo._ 'Tis a heathful year Sir.

_Otr._ Look ye, I'll turn ye out o'dores, and scorn ye.

_Flo._ Thank ye my Lord.

_Otr._ A proud slight Peat I found ye, A fool (it may be too.)

_Flo._ An honest woman, Good my Lord think me.

_Otr._ And a base I [l]eave ye, So fare-ye-well. [_Exit._

[_Flo._ Blessing attend your Lordship; This is hot love, that vanisheth like vapors; His Ague's off, his burning fits are well quench'd, I thank heaven for't: his men, they will not force me.]

_Enter_ Gerasto _and Servants_.

_Ger._ What dost thou stay for? dost thou not know the way, Thou base unprovident whore?

_Flo._ Good words, pray ye Gentlemen.

_1 Ser._ Has my Lord smoak'd ye over, good-wife Miller? Is your Mill broken that you stand so useless?

_2 Ser._ An impudent Quean, upon my life she is unwholsome Some base discarded thing my Lord has found her, He would not have turn'd her off o'th'sudden else.

_Ger._ Now against every sack (my honest sweet heart) With every _Smig_ and _Smug_.

_Flo._ I must be patient.

_Ger._ And every greasie guest, and sweaty Rascall For his Royal hire between his fingers, Gentlewoman.

_1 Ser._ I fear thou hast given my Lord the ---- thou damn'd thing.

_2 Ser._ I have seen her in the Stewes.

_Ger._ The knave her father Was Bawd to her there, and kept a Tipling house, You must even to it again: a modest function.

_Flo._ If ye had honesty, ye would not use me Thus basely, wretchedly, though your Lord bid ye, But he that knows.

_Ger._ Away thou carted impudence, You meat for every man: a little meal Flung in your face, makes ye appear so proud.

_Flo._ This is inhumane. Let these tears persuade you, If ye be men, to use a poor girl better; I wrong not you, I am sure I call you Gentlemen.

_Enter_ Otrante.

_Otr._ What business is here? away, are not you gone yet?

_Flo._ My Lord, this is not well: although you hate me, For what I know not; to let your people wrong me, Wrong me maliciously, and call me.--

_Otr._ Peace, And mark me what we say advisedly; Mark, as you love that that you call your credit; Yield now, or you are undone: your good name's perish'd Not all the world can buy your reputation; 'Tis sunk for ever else, these peoples tongues will poison ye Though you be white as innocence they'll taint ye, They will speak terrible and hideous things, And people in this age are prone to credit, They'll let fall nothing that may brand a woman, Consider this, and then be wise and tremble, Yield yet, and yet I'll save ye.

_Flo._ How?

_Otr._ I'll show ye, Their mouths I'll seal up, they shall speak no more But what is honorable and honest of ye, And Saintlike they shall worship ye: they are mine, And what I charge them _Florimell_.

_Flo._ I am ruin'd, Heaven will regard me yet, they are barbarous wretches: Let me not fall (my Lord.)

_Otr._ You shall not _Florimell_: Mark how I'll work your peace, and how I honor ye. Who waits there? come all in.

_Enter_ Gerasto _and Servants_.

_Ger._ Your pleasure Sir.

_Otr._ Who dare say this sweet beauty is not heavenly? This virgin, the most pure the most untainted, The holiest thing?

_Ger._ We know it (my dear Lord) We are her slaves: and that proud impudence That dares disparage her, this sword (my Lord.)

_1. Ser._ They are rascals, base, the sons of common women That wrong this virtue, or dare own a thought But fair and honorable of her: when we slight her, Hang us, or cut's in pieces: let's tug i'th' Gallies.

_2 Ser._ Brand us for villains.

_Flo._ Why sure I dream: these are all Saints.

_Otr._ Go, and live all her slaves.

_Ger._ We are proud to do it. [_Exeunt._

_Otr._ What think ye now? am not I able _Florimell_ Yet to preserve ye?

_Flo._ I am bound to your Lordship, Ye are all honour, and good my Lord but grant me, Untill to morrow, leave to weigh my fortunes, I'll give you a free answer, perhaps a pleasing, Indeed I'll do the best I can to satisfie ye.

_Otr._ Take your good time, this kiss, till then farewell, Sweet. [_Exeunt._

Actus Quartus.

_Scæna Prima._

_Enter_ Antonio, Martine, Bustofa.

_Mar._ By all means discharge your follower.

_Ant._ If we can get him off: Sirrah _Bustofa_ Thou must needs run back.

_Bust._ But I must not unless you send A Bier, or a Lictor at my back, I do not use to run From my friends.

_Ant._ Well, go will serve turn: I have forgot.

_Bust._ What Sir?

_Ant._ See if I can think on't now.

_Bust._ I know what 'tis now.

_Ant._ A Pistolet of that.

_Bust._ Done, you have forgot a devise to send me away, You are going a smocking perhaps.

_Mar._ His own, due, due i'faith _Antonio_, The Pistolet's his own.

_Ant._ I confess it, There 'tis: now if you could afford out of it A reasonable excuse to mine Uncle.

_Bust._ Yes, I can: But an excuse will not serve your turn: it must be a lye, A full lye, 'twill do no good else: if you'll go to The price of that?

_Ant._ Is a lye dearer than an excuse?

_Bust._ Oh, treble; this is the price of an excuse: but a lye is two more: Look how many foyles go to a fair fall, so many excuses to A full lye, and less cannot serve your turn, let any Tailor I'th' Town make it.

_Mar._ Why 'tis reasonable, give him his price: Let it be large enough now.

_Bust._ I'll warrant you, cover him all over.

_Ant._ I would have proof of one now.

_Bust._ What? scale my invention before hand? you shall pardon Me for that; well, I'll commend you to your Uncle, and Tell him you'll be at home at supper with him.

_Ant._ By no means, I cannot come to night (man)

_Bust._ I know that too, you do not know a lye when you see it.

_Mar._ Remember it must stretch for all night.

_Bust._ I shall want stuffe, I doubt 'twill come to the other _Pistolet_.

_Ant._ Well, lay out, you shall be no looser Sir.

_Bust._ It must be faced, you know, there will be a yard of dissimulation At least (City-measure) and cut upon an untroth or two: Lyned With Fables, that must needs be, cold weather's coming, if it had A gallon of hypocrisie, 'twould do well: and hooked Together with a couple of conceits, That's necessity; well, I'll bring in my Bill: I'll warrant you as fair a lye by that time I have done With it, as any Gentleman i'th' Town can swear to, if he Would betray his Lord and Master. [_Exit._

_Ant._ So, so, this necessary trouble's over.

_Mar._ I would you had bought an excuse of him Before he went: you'll want one for _Ismenia_.

_Ant._ Tush, there needs none, there's no suspition yet, And I'll be arm'd before the next encounter, In a fast tye with my fair _Isabella_.

_Enter_ Bustofa.

_Mar._ Yes, you'll find your errand is before you now.

_Bust._ Oh Gentlemen, look to your selves, ye are Men of another world else; your enemies are upon you; The old house of the _Bellides_ will fall upon your heads: Signior _Lisauro_.

_Ant. Lisauro?_

_Bust._ And _Don_ what call you him? he's a Gentleman: Yet he has but a Yeomans name, Don _Tarso, Tarso_, and a dozen at their heels.

_Ant. Lisauro, Tarso_, nor a dozen more Shall fright me from my ground, nor shun my path, Let 'em come on in their ablest fury.

_Mar._ 'Tis worthily resolved: I'll stand by you Sir, This way, I am thy true friend.

_Bust._ I'll be gone Sir, that one may live to tell what's become of you. Put up, put up, will you never learn to know a lye From an _Esop_'s Fables? there's a tast for you now. [_Exit._

_Enter_ Ismenia _and_ Aminta.

_Mar._ Look Sir, what time of day is it?

_Ant._ I know not, my eyes go false, I dare not trust 'em now, I prethee tell me (_Martin_) if thou canst, Is that _Ismenia_ or _Isabella_.

_Mar._ This is the Lady, forget not, _Isabella_.

_Ant._ If this face may be borrowed and lent out, If it can shift shoulders, and take other tyres, So, 'tis mine where ere I find it.

_Ism._ Be sudden. [_Exit Aminta._ I cannot hold out long.

_Mar._ Believ't she frowns.

_Ant._ Let it come, she cannot frown me off on't: How prettily it wooes me to come nearer? How do you do (Lady) since yesterdays pains? Were you not weary? of my faith.

_Ism._ I think you were.

_Ant._ What Lady?

_Ism._ Weary of your faith; 'tis a burthen That men faint under, though they bear little of it.

_Mar._ So, this is to the purpose.

_Ant._ You came home In a fair hour I hope?

_Enter_ Aminta.

_Ism._ From whence Sir?

_Am._ Sir, there's a Gentlewoman without desires to speak with you.

_Ant._ They were pretty homely toyes: but your presence Made them illustrious.

_Ism._ My Cosen speaks to you.

_Am._ A Gentlewoman Sir, _Isabella_. She names her self.

_Mar._ So, so, it hits finely now.

_Ant._ Name your self how you please: speak what you please, I'll hear you cheerfully.

_Ism._ You are not well, Request her in, she may have more acquaintance With his passions, and better cure for 'em.

_Am._ She's nice in that (Madam) poor soul it seems She's fearful of your displeasure.

_Ism._ I'll quit her From that presently, and bring her in my self. [_Exit._

_Mar._ How carelesly do you behave your self, When you should call all your best faculties To counsel in you! how will you answer The breach you made with fair _Ismenia_? Have you forgot the retrograde vow you took With her, that now is come in evidence? You'll dye upon your shame, you need no more Enemies of the house, but the Lady now: You shall have your dispatch.

_Enter_ Ismenia _like_ Juno.

_Ant._ Give me that face, And I am satisfied upon whose shoulders So ere it grows: _Juno_ deliver us Out of this amazement: Beseech you Goddess Tell us of our friends, how does _Ismenia_? And how does _Isabella_? both in good health I hope, as you your self are.

_Ism._ I am at farthest In my counterfeit: my _Antonio_ I have matter against you may need pardon, As I must crave of you.

_Ant._ Observe you Sir, What evidence is come against me? what think you The _Hydra_-headed Jury will say to't?

_Mar._ 'Tis I am fool'd, My hopes are pour'd into the bottomless tubs, 'Tis labour for the house of _Bellides_: I must not seem so yet: but in sooth (Lady) Did you imagine your changeable face Hid you from me? By this hand I knew you.

_Ant._ I went by the face: and by these eyes I Might have been deceived.

_Ism._ You might indeed (_Antonio_) For this Gentleman did vow to _Isabella_, That he it was that lov'd _Ismenia_, And not _Antonio_?

_Mar._ Good, was not that A manifest confession that I knew you? I else had been unjust unto my friend: 'Twas well remembred, there I found you out And speak your conscience now.

_Ant._ But did he so protest?

_Ism._ Yes, I vow to you, had _Antonio_ Wedded _Isabella, Isme[n]ia_ Had not been lost, there had been her lover.

_Ant._ Why much good do you friend, take her to you: I crave but one, here have I my wish full, I am glad we shall be so near neighbors.

_Mar._ Take both Sir, _Juno_ to boot: three parts in one, S. _Hilarie_ bless you, now opportunity Beware to meet with falshood, if thou canst Shun it, my friends faith's turning from him.

_Ism._ Might I not justly accuse _Antonio_ For a love-wanderer? you know no other But me, for another, and confess troth now?

_Ant._ Here was my guide, where ere I find this face, I am a Lover, marry, I must not miss This freckle then, I have the number of 'em, Nor this dimple, no[t] a silk from this brow, I carry the full Idea ever with me; If nature can so punctually parallel, I may be cozened.

_Ism._ Well, all this is even: But now, to perfect all, our love must now Come to our Enemies hands, where neither part Will ever give consent to't.

_Ant._ Most certain: For which reason it must not be put to'em: Have we not prevention in our own hands. Shall I walk by the tree? desire the fruit, Yet be so nice to pull till I ask leave Of the churlish Gard'ner, that will deny me?

_Ism._ O _Antonio_.

_Ant._ 'Tis manners to fall to When grace is said.

_Ism._ That holy acts to come.

_Mar._ You may open an oyster or two before grace.

_Ant._ Are there not double vows, as valuable And as well spoke as any Frier utters? Heaven has heard all.

_Ism._ Yes: but stayes the blessing, Till all dues be done: heaven is not serv'd by halfs. We shall have ne'r a fathers blessing here, Let us not lose the better, from above.

_Ant._ You take up weapons of unequal force, It shows you cowardly: heark in your ear.

_Am._ Have I lost all imployment? Would this proffer Had been to me, though I had paid it With a reasonable pennance.

_Mar._ Have I past All thy fore-lock (Time?) I'll stretch a long arm But I'll catch hold again: Do but look back Over thy shoulder, and have a pull at thee.

_Ism._ I hear you (Sir) nor can I hear too much While you speak well: You know th'accustom'd place Of our night-parley: if you can ascend, The window shall receive you. You may find there A corrupted Church-man to bid you welcome.

_Ant._ I would meet no other man.

_Ism. Aminta_, you hear this.

_Am._ With joy (Madam) 'cause it pleases you. It may be mine own case another time: Now you go the right way; ask the Banes out, Put it past father, or friends, to forbid it, And then you're sure. Sir, your _Hymen_ Taper I'll light up for you: the window shall show you The way to _Sestos_.

_Ant._ I'll venture drowning.

_Mar._ The simile holds not; 'tis hanging rather. You must ascend your Castle by a Ladder; To the foot I'll bring you.

_Ant._ Leave me to climb it.

_Mar._ If I do turn you off?

_Ant._ Till night fare-well: Then better.

_Ism._ Best it should be; But peevish hatred keeps back that degree. [_Exeunt._

_Mar._ I never look'd so smooth as now I purpose: And then beware: Knave is at worst of knave When he smiles best, and the most seems to save. [_Exit._

_Scæna Secunda._

_Enter_ Julio.

_Jul._ My mind's unquiet; while _Antonio_ My Nephew's abroad, my heart is not at home, Only my fears stay with me; bad company: But I cannot shift 'em off. This hatred Betwixt the house of _Bellides_ and us, Is not fair war: 'tis civil, but uncivil. We are near neighbors, were of love as near, Till a cross misconstruction ('twas no more In conscience) put us so far asunder: I would 'twere reconcil'd; it has lasted Too many Sun-sets, if grace might moderate: Man should not lose so many days of peace To satisfie the anger of one minute. I could repent it heartily. I sent The knave to attend my _Antonio_ too, Yet he returns no comfort to me neither.

_Enter_ Bustofa.

_Bust._ No: I must not.

_Jul._ Hah; hee's come.

_Bust._ I must not: 'twill break his heart to hear it.

_Jul._ How? there's bad tidings: I must obscure and hear it; He will not tell me for breaking of my heart, 'Tis half split already.

_Bust._ I have spi'd him: Now to knock down a Don with a lye, a silly harmless lye; 'twill be valiantly done, and nobly perhaps.

_Jul._ I cannot hear him now.

_Bust._ Oh the bloody days that we live in; the envious, malitious, deadly days that we draw breath in!

_Jul._ Now I hear too loud.

_Bust._ The Children that [n]ever shall be born may rue it; for men that are slain now might have liv'd to have got children, that might have curs'd their fathers.

_Jul._ Oh, my posterity is ruin'd.

_Bust._ Oh sweet _Antonio_.

_Jul._ Oh dear _Antonio_.

_Bust._ Yet it was nobly done of both parts: When he and _Lisauro_ met.

_Jul._ Oh, death Has parted 'em.

_Bust._ Welcome my mortal foe (says one,) Welcome my deadly enemy (says th'other:) off go their doublets, they in their shirts, and their swords stark naked; here lies _Antonio_, here lies _Lisauro_: he comes upon him with an _Embroccado_, that he puts by with a _puncta reversa_; _Lisauro_ recoils me two paces and some six inches back, takes his carrere, and then, on.

_Jul._ Oh.

_Bust._ Runs _Antonio_ quite thorow.

_Jul._ Oh villain.

_Bust._ Quite thorow between the arm and the body: so yet he had no hurt at that bout.

_Jul._ Goodness be praised.

_Bust._ But then, at next encounter, he fetches me up _Lisauro_; _Lisauro_ makes out a long at him, which he thinking to be a _Passado, Antonio's_ foot slipping: down: oh down.

_Jul._ O now thou art lost.

_Bust._ Oh, but the quality of the thing: both Gentlemen, both Spanish Christians, yet one man to shed....

_Jul._ Say his enemies blood.

_Bust._ His hair, may come by divers casualties, though he never go into the field with his foe: but a man to lose nine ounces and two drams of blood at one wound, thirteen and a scruple at another, and to live till he dye in cold blood: yet the Surgeon (that cur'd him) said if _Pia-mater_ had not been perish'd, he had been a lives man till this day.

_Jul._ There he concludes he is gone.

_Bust._ But all this is nothing: now I come to the point.

_Jul._ I, the point, that's deadly: the antient blow Over the buckler, ne'r went half so deep.

_Bust._ Yet pitty bids me keep in my charity: for me to pull an old mans ears from his head with telling of a Tale: oh fowle Tale! No, be silent Tale. Farthermore, there is the charge of Buriall; every one will cry Blacks, Blacks, that had but the least finger dipt in his blood, though ten degrees remov'd when 'twas done. Moreover, the Surgeon (that made an end of him) will be paid: Sugar-plums and sweet breads; yet I say, the man may recover again, and dye in his bed.

_Jul._ What motley stuff is this? Sirrha, speak truth What hath befallen my dear _Antonio_? Restrain your pitty in concealing it; Tell me the danger full; take off your care Of my receiving it: kill me that way, I'll forgive my death; what thou keepst back from truth Thou shalt speak in pain; do not look to find A limb in his right place, a bone unbroke, Nor so much flesh unbroil'd of all that mountain, As a worm might sup on, dispatch, or be dispatch'd.

_Bust._ Alass Sir, I know nothing, but that _Antonio_ is a man of Gods making to this hour, 'tis not two since I left him so.

_Jul._ Where didst thou leave him?

_Bust._ In the same clothes he had on when he went from you.

_Jul._ Does he live?

_Bust._ I saw him drink.

_Jul._ Is he not wounded?

_Bust._ He may have a cut i'th'leg by this time; for Don _Martin_ and he were at whole slashes.

_Jul._ Met he not with _Lisauro_?

_Bust._ I do not know her.

_Jul._ Her? _Lisauro_ is a man, as he is.

_Bust._ I saw ne'er a man like him.

_Jul._ Didst thou not discourse a fight betwixt _Ant._ and _Lis_?

_Bust._ I to my self; I hope a man may give himself the lye if it please him.

_Jul._ Didst thou lye then?

_Bust._ As sure as you live now.

_Jul._ I live the happier by it: when will he return?

_Bust._ That he sent me to tell you, within these ten days at farthest.

_Jul._ Ten days? he's not wont to be absent two.

_Bust._ Nor I think he will not, he said he would be at home to morrow, but I love to speak within my compass.

_Jul._ You shall speak within mine Sir, now. Within there.

_Enter Servants._

Take this fellow into custody, keep him safe I charge you.

_Bust._ Safe? do you hear? take notice what plight you find me in, if there want but a collop or a steak o'me, look to't.

_Jul._ If my Nephew return not in his health to morrow, Thou goest to th'Rack.

_Bust._ Let me go to th'manger first; I had rather eat oats than hay. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Bellides _with a Letter_.

_Bel._ By your leave, Sir.

_Jul._ For ought I know yet, you are welcome Sir.

_Bel._ Read that, and tell me so: or if thy spectacles be not easie, Keep thy nose unsadl'd, and ope thine ears; I can speak thee the contents, I made 'em; 'Tis a challenge, a fair one, I'll maintain't: I scorn to hire my Second to deliver't, I bring't my self: Dost know me, _Julio_?

_Jul. Bellides?_

_Bel._ Yes: is not thy hair on end now?

_Jul._ Somewhat amaz'd at thy rash hardiness; How durst thou come so near thine enemy?

_Bel._ Durst? I dare come nearer: thou'rt a fool, _Julio_.

_Jul._ Take it home to thee with a knave to boot.

_Bel._ Knave to thy teeth again: and all that's quit: Give me not a fool more than I give thee, Or if thou dost, look to hear on't again.

_Jul._ What an encounter's this?

_Bel._ A noble one: My hand is to my words, thou hast it there, There I do challenge thee, if thou dar'st be Good friends with me; or I'll proclaim thee coward.

_Jul._ Be friends with thee?

_Bel._ I'll shew thee reasons for't: A pair of old Coxcombs (now we go together) Such as should stand examples of discretion, The rules of Grammar to unwilling youth To take out lessons by; we that should check And quench the raging fire in others bloods, We strike the battel to destruction? Read 'em the black art? and make 'em believe It is divinity? Heathens, are we not? Speak thy conscience, how hast thou slept this month, Since this Fiend haunted us?

_Jul._ Sure some Good Angel Was with us both last night: speak thou truth now, Was it not last nights motion?

_Bel._ Dost not think I would not lay hold of it at first proffer? Should I n'er sleep again?

_Jul._ Take not all from me; I'll tell the doctrine of my vision. Say that [_Antonio_] (best of thy blood) Or any one, the least allyed to thee, Should be the prey unto _Lisauro_'s sword, Or any of the house of _Bellides_?

_Bel._ Mine was the just inversion: on, on.