Part 9

_Quisar._ Oh _Ruy Dias_, This was your sloth, your sloth, your sloth _Ruy Dias_.

_Py._ Your love sloth; Unckle do you find it now? You should have done at first, and faithfully: [_A shout._ And then th'other had lyed ready for ye; Madam, the general joy comes.

_Quisar._ We must meet it--but with what comfort?

_Enter Citizens carrying boughs_, _boyes singing after 'em_; _Then_ King, Armusia, Soza, Emanuel; _The Princes and train following_.

_Quisar._ Oh my dear brother, what a joy runs through me, To see you safe again, your self, and mighty, What a blest day is this!

_Kin._ Rise up fair Sister, I am not welcome till you have embraced me.

_Ru._ A general gladness sir flies through the City, And mirth possesses all to see your Grace arrive, Thus happily arriv'd again, and fairly; 'Twas a brave venture who so e'er put for it, A high and noble one, worthy much honor; And had it fail'd, we had not fail'd great Sir, And in short time too, to have forc'd the Governor, In spight of all his threats.

_Kin._ I thank ye Gentleman.

_Ru._ And all his subtilties to set you free, With all his heart and will too.

_Kin._ I know ye love me.

_Py._ This had been good with something done before it, Something set off to beautifie it, now it sounds empty, like A Barbers bason, pox there's no metall in't, no noble marrow.

_Ba._ I have an Army Sir, but that the Governor, The foolish fellow was a little provident, And wise in letting slip no time, became him too, That would have scour'd him else, and all his confines; That would have rung him such a peal--

_Py._ Yes backward, To make dogs houl, I know thee to a farthing, Thy Army's good for Hawks, there's Nothing but sheeps hearts in it.

_Sy._ I have done nothing Sir, therefore I think it convenient I say little what I purposed, And what my love intended.

_Kin._ I like your modesty, And thank ye royal friends, I know it griev'd ye To know my misery; but this man, Prince[s], I must thank heartily, indeed, and treuly, For this Man saw me in't, and redeemed me: He lookt upon me sinking, and then caught me. This Sister this, this all Man, this all valor, This pious Man.

_Ru._ My countenance, it shames me, One scarce arriv'd, not harden'd yet, not Read in dangers and great deeds, sea-sick, not season'd-- Oh I have boy'd my self.

_Kin._ This noble bulwark, This launce and honor of our age and Kingdome; This that I never can reward, nor hope To be once worthy of the name of friend to, This, this Man from the bowels of my sorrows Has new begot my name, and once more made me: Oh sister, if there may be thanks for this, Or any thing near recompence invented.

_Ar._ You are too noble Sir, there is reward Above my action too by millions: A recompence so rich and glorious, I durst not dreame it mine, but that 'twas promised; But that it was propounded, sworn and sealed Before the face of Heaven, I durst not hope it, For nothing in the life of man, or merit, It is so truly great, can else embrace it.

_Kin._ O speak it, speak it, bless mine ears to hear it, Make me a happy man, to know it may be, For still methinks I am a prisoner, And feel no liberty before I find it.

_Ar._ Then know it is your sister, she is mine Sir, I claime her by her own word, and her honor; It was her open promise to that Man That durst redeeme ye; Beauty set me on, And fortune crowns me fair, if she receive me.

_Kin._ Receive ye, Sir--why Sister--ha--so backward, Stand as you knew me not? nor what he has ventured? My dearest Sister.

_Ar._ Good Sir pardon me, There is a blushing modesty becomes her, That holds her back; Women are nice to wooe Sir; I would not have her forc'd; give her fair liberty; For things compell'd and frighted, of soft natures, Turn into fears, and flie from their own wishes.

_Kin._ Look on him my _Quisara_, such another, Oh all ye powers, so excellent in nature! In honor so abundant!--

_Quisar._ I confess Sir, Confess my word is past too, he has purchased; Yet good Sir give me leave to think; but time To be acquainted with his worth and person; To make me fit to know it; we are both strangers, And how we should believe so suddenly, Or come to fasten our affections-- Alas, love has his complements.

_Kin._ Be sudden And certain in your way, no woman[s] doubles, Nor coy delayes, you are his, and so assure it, Or cast from me and my remembrance ever; Respect your word, I know you will, come Sister, Lets see what welcome you can give a prisoner, And what fair looks a friend--Oh my most noble Princes, no discontents, but all be lusty, He that frowns this day is an open enemy: Thus in my armes my dear.

_Ar._ You make me blush Sir.

_Kin._ And now lead on-- Our whole Court crown'd with pleasure.

_Ru._ Madam, despair not, something shall be done yet, And suddenly, and wisely.

_Quisar._ O _Ruy Dias_. [_Ex._

_Py._ Well, he's a brave fellow, and he has deserv'd her richly; And you have had your hands full I dare swear Gentlemen.

_Soz._ We have done something, Sir, if it hit right.

_Ch._ The woman has no eyes else, nor no honesty, So much I think.

_Py._ Come, let's goe bounce amongst 'em, To the Kings health, and my brave Country-mans. My Unckle looks as though he were sick oth' Worms friends. [_Exeunt._

_Actus Tertius. Scaena Prima._

_Enter_ Pyniero.

Mine Unckle haunts me up and down, looks melancholy, Wondrous proof melancholy, sometimes swears Then whistles, starts, cries, and groans, as if he had the Bots, As to say truth, I think h'as little better, A[n]d we'd fain speak; bids me good morrow at midnight, And good night when 'tis noon, has something hovers About his brains, that would fain find an issue, But cannot out, or dares not: still he follows.

_Enter_ Ruy Dyas.

How he looks still, and how he beats about, Like an old dog at a dead scent! I marry, There was a sigh wou'd a set a ship a sailing: These winds of love and honor, blow at all ends. Now speak and't be thy Will: good morrow Uncle.

_Ru._ Good morrow Sir.

_Py._ This is a new salute: Sure h'as forgot me: this is pur-blind _Cupid_.

_Ru._ My Nephew?

_Py._ Yes Sir, if I be not chang'd.

_Ru._ I wou'd fain speak with you.

_Py._ I wou'd fain have ye, Sir, For to that end I stay.

_Ru._ You know I love ye, And I have lov'd ye long, my dear _Pyniero_, Bred and supply'd you.

_Py._ Whither walks this Preamble?

_Ru._ You may remember, though I am but your Uncle, I sure had a father's care, a father's tenderness.

_Py._ Sure he would wrap me into something now suddenly, He doubts my nature in, for mine is honest, He winds about me so.

_Ru._ A fathers diligence. My private benefits I have forgot, Sir, But those you might lay claim to as my follower; Yet some men wou'd remember--

_Py._ I do daily.

_Ru._ The place which I have put ye in, which is no weak one, Next to my self you stand in all employments, Your counsels, cares, assignments with me equal, So is my study still to plant your person; These are small testimonies I have not forgot ye, Nor wou'd not be forgotten.

_Pyn._ Sure you cannot.

_Ru._ Oh _Pyniero_--

_Pyn._ Sir, what hangs upon you, What heavy weight oppresses ye, ye have lost, (I must confess, in those that understand ye) Some little of your credit, but time will cure that; The best may slip sometimes.

_Ru._ Oh my best Nephew--

_Pyn._ It may be ye fear her too, that disturbs ye, That she may fall her self, or be forc'd from ye.

_Ru._ She is ever true, but I undone for ever. Oh that _Armusia_, that new thing, that stranger, That flag stuck up to rob me of mine honor; That murd'ring chain shot at me from my Countrey: That goodly plague that I must court to kill me.

_Pyn._ Now it comes flowing from him, I fear'd this, Knew, he that durst be idle, durst be ill too, Has he not done a brave thing?

_Ru._ I must confess it Nephew, must allow it, But that brave thing has undone me, has sunk me, Has trod me like a name in sand, to nothing, Hangs betwixt hope and me, and threatens my ruin; And if he rise and blaze, farewel my fortune; And when that's set, where's thy advancement, Cosin? That were a friend, that were a noble kinsman, That would consider these; that man were grateful; And he that durst do something here, durst love me.

_Pyn._ You say true, 'tis worth consideration, Your reasons are of weight, and mark me Uncle, For I'll be sudden, and to th' purpose with you. Say this _Armusia_, then were taken off, As it may be easily done, How stands the woman?

_Ru._ She is mine for ever; For she contemns his deed and him.

_Pyn._ Pox on him. Or if the single pox be not sufficient, The hogs, the dogs, the devils pox possess him: 'Faith this _Armusia_ stumbles me, 'tis a brave fellow; And if he could be spared Uncle--

_Ru._ I must perish: Had he set up at any rest but this, Done any thing but what concern'd my credit, The everlasting losing of my worth--

_Pyn._ I understand you now, who set you on too. I had a reasonable good opinion of the devil Till this hour; and I see he is a knave indeed, An arrant, stinking knave, for now I smell him; I'll see what may be done then, you shall know You have a kinsman, but no villain Uncle, Nor no betrayer of fair fame, I scorn it; I love and honor virtue; I must have Access unto the Lady to know her mind too, A good word from her mouth you know may stir me; A Ladies look at setting on--

_Ru._ You say well, Here Cosin, here's a Letter ready for you, And you shall see how nobly she'll receive you, And with what [c]are direct.

_Pyn._ Farewel then Uncle, After I have talk'd with her, I am your servant, To make you honest if I can--else hate you. Pray ye no more compliments, my head is busie, heaven bless me; What a malicious soul does this man carry! And to what scurvy things this love converts us! What stinking things, and how sweetly they become us! Murther's a moral virtue with these Lovers, A special piece of Divinity, I take it: I may be mad, or violently drunk. Which is a whelp of that litter; or I may be covetous, And learn to murther mens estates, that's base too; Or proud, but that's a Paradise to this; Or envious, and sit eating of my self At others fortunes; I may lye, and damnably, Beyond the patience of an honest hearer; Cosin, Cutpurses, sit i'th' Stocks for apples. But when I am a Lover, Lord have mercy, These are poor pelting sins, or rather plagues, Love and Ambition draw the devils Coach.

_Enter_ Quisana, _and_ Panura.

How now! who are these? Oh my great Ladies followers, Her Riddle-founders, and her Fortune-tellers. Her readers of her Love-Lectures, her Inflamers: These doors I must pass through, I hope they are wide. Good day to your beauties, how they take it to 'em! As if they were fair indeed.

_Quisan._ Good morrow to you, Sir.

_Pyn._ That's the old Hen, the brood-bird! how she busles! How like an Inventory of Lechery she looks! Many a good piece of iniquity Has past her hands, I warrant her--I beseech you, Is the fair Princess stirring?

_Pan._ Yes marry is she, Sir. But somewhat private: you have a business with her?

_Py._ Yes forsooth have I, and a serious business.

_Pan._ May not we know?

_Py._ Yes, when you can keep counsel.

_Pan._ How prettily he looks! he's a soldier sure, His rudeness sits so handsomly upon him.

_Quisan._ A good blunt Gentleman.

_Py._ Yes marry am I: Yet for a push or two at sharp, and't please you--

_Pan._ My honest friend, you know not who you speak to: This is the Princesses Aunt,

_Py._ I like her the better And she were her Mother (Lady) or her Grandmother, I am not so bashful, but I can buckle with her.

_Pan._ Of what size is your business?

_Py[n]._ Of the long sixteens, And will make way I warrant ye.

_Pan._ How fine he talks!

_Pyn._ Nay in troth I talk but coursely, Lady, But I hold it comfortable for the understanding: How fain they wou'd draw me into ribaldry! These wenches that live easily, live high, [And l]ove these broad discourses, as they love possets; These dry delights serve for preparatives.

_Pan._ Why do you look so on me?

_Pyn._ I am guessing By the cast of your face, what the property of your place, should be, For I presume you turn a key, sweet beauty, And you another, gravity, under the Princess, And by my ---- I warrant ye good places, Comly commodious Seats.

_Quisan._ Prethee let him talk still. For me thinks he talks handsomely.

_Py._ And truly As near as my understanding shall enable me You look as if you kept my Ladies secrets: Nay, do not laugh, for I mean honestly, How these young things tattle, when they get a toy by th' end! And how their hearts go pit-a-pat, and look for it! Wou'd it not dance too, if it had a Fiddle? Your gravity I guess, to take the Petitions, And hear the lingring suits in love dispos'd, Their sighs and sorrows in their proper place, You keep the Ay-me Office.

_Quisan._ Prethee suffer him, For as I live he's a pretty fellow; I love to hear sometimes what men think of us: And thus deliver'd freely, 'tis no malice: Proceed good honest man.

_Pin._ I will, good Madam. According to mens states and dignities, Moneys and moveables, you rate their dreams, And cast the Nativity of their desires, If he reward well, all he thinks is prosperous: And if he promise place, his dreams are Oracles; Your antient practique Art too in these discoveries, Who loves at such a length, who a span farther, And who draws home, yield you no little profit, For these ye milk by circumstance.

_Qui._ Ye are cunning.

_Pin._ And as they oil ye, and advance your Spindle, So you draw out the lines of love, your doors too, The doors of destiny, that men must pass through; These are fair places.

_Pan._ He knows all.

_Pin._ Your trap-doors, To pop fools in it, that have no providence, Your little wickets, to work wise men, like wires, through at, And draw their states and bodies into Cobwebs, Your Postern doors, to catch those that are cautelous, And would not have the worlds eye find their knaveries: Your doors of danger, some men hate a pleasure, Unless that may be full of fears; your hope doors, And those are fine commodities, where fools pay For every new enco[u]ragement, a new custom; You have your doors of honor, and of pleasure; But those are for great Princes, glorious vanities, That travel to be famous through diseases; There be the doors of poverty and death too: But these you do the best you can to damm up, For then your gain goes out.

_Qui._ This is a rare Lecture.

_Pin._ Read to them that understand.

_Pan._ Beshrew me, I dare not venture on ye, ye cut too keen, Sir.

_Enter_ Quisara.

_Quisan._ We thank you Sir for your good mirth, You are a good companion. Here comes the Princess now, attend your business.

_Quisar._ Is there no remedy, no hopes can help me? No wit to set me free? whose there hoe?

_Quisan._ Troubled? her looks are almost wild: What ails the Princess? I know nothing she wants.

_Quisar._ Who's that there with you? Oh Signior _Pyniero_? you are most welcome: How does your noble Uncle?

_Pin._ Sad as you are Madam: But he commends his service, and this Letter.

_Quisar._ Go off, attend within--Fair Sir, I thank ye, Pray be no stranger, for indeed you are welcome; For your own virtues welcome.

_Quisan._ We are mistaken, This is some brave fellow sure.

_Pan._ I'm sure he's a bold fellow: But if she hold him so, we must believe it. [_Exit._

_Quisar._ Do you know of this, fair Sir?

_P[i]n._ I ghess it Madam, And whether it intends: I had not brought it else.

_Quis._ It is a business of no common reckoning.

_Pin._ The handsomer for him that goes about it; Slight actions are rewarded with slight thanks: Give me a matter of some weight to wade in.

_Quisar._ And can you love your Uncle so directly, So seriously, and so full, to undertake this? Can there be such a faith?

_Pin._ Dare you say I to it, And set me on? 'tis no matter for my Uncle, Or what I owe to him, dare you but wish it.

_Quisar._ I wou'd fain--

_Pyn._ Have it done; say but so Lady.

_Quisan._ Conceive it so.

_Pyn._ I will, 'tis that I am bound to: Your Will that must command me, and your Pleasure, The fair aspects of those eyes that must direct me: I am no Uncles Agent, I am mine own, Lady; I scorn my able youth should plough for others, Or my ambition serve for pay; I aim, Although I never hit, as high as any man, And the reward I reach at, shall be equal, And what love spurs me on to, this desire, Makes me forget an honest man, a brave man, A valiant, and a virtuous man, my countrey-man, _Armusia_, The delight of all the _Minions_, This love of you, doting upon your beauty, the admiration of your excellence; Make me but servant to the poorest smile, Or the least grace you have bestow'd on others, And see how suddenly I'll work your safety, And set your thoughts at peace; I am no flatterer, To promise infinitely, and out-dream dangers; To lye a bed, and swear men into Feavers, Like some of your trim suiters; when I promise, The light is not more constant to the world, Than I am to my word--She turns for millions.

_Quisar._ I have not seen a braver confirm'd courage.

_Pyn._ For a Tun of Crowns she turns: she is a woman, And much I fear, a worse than I expected. You are the object, Lady, you are the eye In which all excellence appears, all wonder, From which all hearts take fire, all hands their valour: And when he stands disputing, when you bid him, Or but thinks of his Estate, Father, Mother, Friends, Wife, and Children, H'is a fool, and I scorn him, And 't be but to make clean his sword, a coward; Men have forgot their fealty to beauty. Had I the place in your affections, My most unworthy Uncle is fit to fall from, Liv'd in those blessed eyes, and read the stories Of everlasting pleasures figur'd there, I wou'd find out your commands before you thought 'em, And bring 'em to you done, e'r you dream't of 'em.

_Quis._ I admire his boldness.

_Pyn._ This, or any thing; Your brothers death, mine Uncles, any mans, No state that stands secure, if you frown on it. Look on my youth, I bring no blastings to you, The first flower of my strength, my faith.

_Quis._ No more Sir; I am too willing to believe, rest satisfi'd; If you dare do for me, I shall be thankful: You are a handsome Gentleman, a fair one, My servant if you please; I seal it thus, Sir. No more, till you deserve more. [_Exit._

_Pyn._ I am rewarded: This woman's cunning, but she's bloody too; Although she pulls her Tallons in, she's mischievous; Form'd like the face of Heaven, clear and transparent; I must pretend still, bear 'em both in hopes, For fear some bloudy slave thrust in indeed, Fashion'd and flesh'd, to what they wish: well Uncle, What will become of this, and what dishonor Follow this fatal shaft, if shot, let time tell, I can but only fear, and strive to cross it. [_Exit._

_Enter_ Armusia, Emanuel, _and_ Soza.

_Em._ Why are you thus sad? what can grieve or vex you That have the pleasures of the world, the profits, The honor, and the loves at your disposes? Why should a man that wants nothing, want his quiet?

_Ar._ I want what beggars are above me in, content; I want the grace I have merited, The favor, the due respect.

_Soz._ Does not the King allow it?

_Ar._ Yes, and all honors else, all I can ask, That he has power to give; but from his Sister, The scornful cruelty, forgive me beauty, That I transgress from her that should look on me, That should a little smile upon my service, And foster my deserts for her own faiths sake; That should at least acknowledge me, speak to me.

_Soz._ And you goe whining up and down for this, Sir? Lamenting and disputing of your grievances? Sighing and sobbing like a sullen School-boy, And cursing good-wife fortune for this favour?

_Ar._ What would you have me doe?

_Soz._ Doe what you should do, What a man would doe in this case, a wise man, An understanding man that knows a woman; Knows her and all her tricks, her scorns, and all her trifles: Goe to her, and take her in your arms, and shake her, Take her and toss her like a barr.

_Em._ But be sure you pitch her upon a Feather-bed, Shake her between a pair of Sheets, Sir, There shake these sullen fits out of her, spare her not there; There you may break her Will, and bruise no bone, Sir.

_Soz._ Goe to her.

_Em._ That's the way.

_Soz._ And tell her, and boldly, And do not mince the matter, nor mock your self, With being too indulgent to her pride: Let her hear roundly from ye, what ye are, And what ye have deserved, and what she must be.

_Em._ And be not put off like a common fellow, With the Princess would be private, Or that she has taken physick, and admits none; I would talk to her any where.

_Ar._ It makes me smile.

_Em._ Now you look handsomly: Had I a wench to win, I would so flutter her: They love a man that crushes 'em to verjuce; A woman held at hard meat, is your Spaniel.

_Soz._ Pray take our council, Sir.

_Ar._ I shall do something, But not your way, it shews too boisterous, For my affections are as fair and gentle, As her they serve.

_Enter King._

_Soz._ The King.

_King._ Why how now friend? Why do you rob me of the company I love so dearly, Sir, I have been seeking you; For when I want you, I want all my pleasure: Why sad? thus sad still man? I will not have it; I must not see the face I love thus shadowed.

_Em._ And't please your Grace, methinks it ill becomes him: A soldier should be jovial, high and lusty.

_King._ He shall be so, come, come, I know your reason, It shall be none to cross you, ye shall have her, Take my word, ('tis a Kings word) ye shall have her, She shall be yours or nothing, pray be merry.

_Arm._ Your Grace has given me cause, I shall be Sir, And ever your poor servant.

_King._ Me my self, Sir, My better self, I shall find time, and suddainly, To gratifie your loves too, Gentlemen, And make you know how much I stand bound to you: Nay, 'tis not worth your thanks, no further complement; Will you go with me friend?

_Arm._ I beseech your Grace, Spare me an hour or two, I shall wait on you, Some little private business with my self, Sir, For such a time.

_King._ I'll hinder no devotion, For I know you are regular, I'll take you Gentlemen, Because he shall have nothing to disturb him, I shall look for your friend. [_Exeunt. manet_ Armusia.

_Enter_ Panura.

_Arm._ I dare not fail, Sir: What shall I do to make her know my misery, To make her sensible? This is her woman, I have a toy come to me suddenly, It may work for the best, she can but scorn me, And lower than I am, I cannot tumble, I'll try, what e'er my fate be--Good even fair one.

_Pan._ 'Tis the brave stranger--A good night to you, Sir. Now by my Ladies hand, a goodly Gentleman! How happy shall she be in such a Husband! Wou'd I were so provided too.

_Arm._ Good pretty one, Shall I keep you company for an hour or two? I want employment for this evening. I am an honest man.

_Pan._ I dare believe ye: Or if ye were not, Sir, that's no great matter, We take mens promises, wou'd ye stay with me, Sir?