Part 12

_Bap._ You must not be deny'd, Yet with all brevity I must report it; 'Tis true, fair _Juliana_ (_Genoua's_ pride) Enamour'd of my actions, lik'd my person; Nor could I but with joy meet her affection; Since it was lawful, for my first wife dead; We were closely married, and for some few months Tasted the fruits of't; but malicious fate, Envying our too much happiness, wrought upon A faithless servant, privy to our plot, And Cabinet-Counselor to _Juliana_, Who either for hope, or reward, or fear, Discover'd us to the incensed Duke: Whose rage made her close prisoner, and pronounc'd On me perpetual banishment: some three years I wander'd on the Seas, since entertain'd By the great Duke of _Florence_; but what fate Attended her? or _Prospero_ my friend, That staid at _Genoua_, to expect the issue, Is yet uncertain.

_Enter a Gentleman._

_Alber._ From the Duke:

_Bap._ He's welcome, to end my forc'd relation.

_Alber._ Signior _Baptista_; The Great Dukes Will commands your present [e]are.

_Gent._ It points indeed at both of you.

_Bap._ I wait it.

_Alber._ In _Mariana_, to your rest.

_Bap._ Nay leave us, we must be private.

_Maria._ Stay not long _Cesario_:

[--_Exeunt Manet_ Cesario, Mentivole.

_Mentivo._ So these old men vanish'd, 'tis allow'd That we may speak, and howsoe'r they take Delight in the discourse of former dangers, It cannot hinder us to treat a little Of present pleasures.

_Cesario._ Which if well injoy'd, Will not alone continue, but increase In us their friendship.

_Ment._ How shall we spend the night? To snore it out like drunken _Dutchmen_, would Sort ill with us _Italians_. We are made Of other metall, fiery, quick, and active; Shall we take our fortune? and while our cold fathers (In whom long since their youthful heats were dead,) Talk much of _Mars_, serve under _Venus_ Ensigns, And seek a Mistriss.

_Cesar._ That's a game dear friend, That does admit no rival in chase of it. And either to be undertook alone, Or not to be attempted.

_Ment._ I'll not press you; What other sports to entertain the time with The following morning?

_Cesar._ Any that may become us.

_Ment._ Is the _Neapolitan_ horse the Viceroy sent you, In a fit plight to run?

_Cesar._ So my Groom tells me. I can boast little of my horsemanship; Yet upon his assurance, I dare wager A thousand Crowns, 'gainst any horse in _Florence_, For an eight mile course.

_Ment._ I would not win of you, In respect you are impatient of loss: Else I durst match him with my _Barbary_ For twice the sum.

_Cesar._ You do well to excuse it, being certain to be beaten.

_Ment._ Tush. You know the contrary.

_Cesar._ To end the controversie Put it to trial, by my life I'll meet you

_Enter_ Clarissa.

With the next rising Sun.

_Ment._ A match. But here Appears a _Cynthia_, that scorns to borrow A beam of light from the great eye of Heaven, She being her self all brightness; how I envy Those amorous smiles, those kisses, but sure chaste ones Which she vouchsafes her brother!

_Claris._ You are wanton: Pray you think me not _Biancha_, leave I pray you; My Mother will not sleep before she see you, And since you know her tenderness, nay fondness; In every circumstance that concerns your safety, You are not equal to her.

_Cesar._ I must leave you; but will not fail to meet you.

_Ment._ Soft sleeps to you.

_Within. Mariana: Cesario._

_Claris._ You are call'd again.

_Cesar._ Some Sons Complain of too much rigor in their Mothers; I of too much indulgence; you will follow.-- [_Exit._

_Claris._ You are her first care, therefore lead the way.

_Ment._ She staies: blest opportunity, she staies: As she invited conference, she was ever Noble, and free: but thus to tempt my frailty, Argues a yielding in her; or contempt Of all that I dare offer; stand I now Consulting? No, I'll put it home.

_Claris._ Who waits there? more Lights.

_Ment._ You need them not, they are as useless, As at noon-day; can there be darkness, where Nature then wisely liberal, vouchsaf'd To lend two Suns.

_Claris. Hyperboles_:

_Ment._ No, truths: Truths beauteous Virgin, so my love-sick heart Assures me, and my understanding tells me I must approach them wisely, should I rashly Press near their scorching beams, they would consume me And on the contrary, should your disdain Keep me at too much distance, and I want Their comfortable heat, the frost of death Would seize on all my faculties.

_Cla._ Pray you pause, Sir. This vehemency of discourse must else needs tire you. These gay words take not me, 'tis simple faith Honest integrity, and lawful flames I am delighted with:

_Ment._ Such I bring with me, and therefore Lady.

_Cla._ But that you took me off E're I came to a period; I had added A long experience must be requir'd Both of his faith and trust, with whom a Virgin Trafficks for, what's dearest in this life, Her liberty, and honor; I confess I oft have view'd you with an eye of favour, And with your generous parts the many tenders Of doing me all fair offices, have won A good opinion from me.

_Ment._ Oh speak ever, I never heard such Musick.

_Cla._ A plain tune, Sir: But 'tis a hearty one; when I perceive By evident proofs, your aims are truly noble, And that you bring the Engines of fair Love, Not of foul Lust, to shake and undermine My Maiden-fortress: I may then make good What now I dare not promise.

_Ment._ You already In taking notice of my poor deservings, Have been magnificent, and 'twill appear A frontless impudence to ask beyond this Yet qualifie, though not excuse my error, Though now I am ambitious to desire A confirmation of it.

_Cla._ So it wrong not my modesty to grant it.

_Ment._ 'Tis far from me, I only am a suitor, you would grace me With some toy, but made rich in that you wore it, To warrant to the world that I usurp not When I presume to stile my self your servant, A ribond from your shooe:

_Cla._ You are too humble, I'll think upon't; and something of more value Shall witness how I prize you, it grows late, I'll bring you to the door.

_Ment._ You still more bind me.-- [_Exeunt._

_Enter Duke of_ Florence, Alberto, Baptista, _Magistrates_, _and Attendants_.

_Duke._ You find by this assur'd intelligence The preparation of the _Turk[e]_ against us. We have met him oft and beat him; now to fear him Would argue want of courage, and I hold it A safer policie for us and our signiories To charge him in his passage o'er the Sea, Than to expect him here.

_Alb._ May it please your Highness Since you vouchsafe to think me worthy of This great imployment, if I may deliver My judgement freely, 'tis not flattery Though I say my opinion waits on you, Nor would I give my suffrage and consent To what you have propos'd, but that I know it Worth the great speaker, though that the denial Call'd on your heavy anger. For my self I do profess thus much, if a blunt Soldier, May borrow so much from the oyl'd tongu'd Courtier, (That ecchoes whatsoe'er the Prince allows of) All that my long experience hath taught me That have spent three parts of my life at Sea, (Let it not taste of arrogance that I say it) Could not have added reasons of more weight To fortifie your affections, than such As your grace out of observation meerly Already have propounded.

_Bap._ With the honor to give the daring enemy an affront In being the first opposer it will teach Your Soldiers boldness: and strike fear in them That durst attempt you.

_1 Magi._ Victuals and Ammunition, And Money too, the sinews of the War, are stor'd up in the Magazine.

_2 Magi._ And the Gallies new rig'd and train'd up, And at two dayes warning fit for the service.

_Duke._ We commend your care, Nor will we e'er be wanting in Our counsels, As we doubt not your action; you _Baptista_ Shall stay with us; that Merchant is not wise, That ventures his whole fortunes in one bottom. _Albert._ Be our Admiral, spare your thanks, 'Tis Merit in you that invites this honor, Preserve it such; ere long you shall hear more, Things rashly undertaken end as ill, But great acts thrive when reason guides the will.

--_Exeunt. Enter 3 Gentlemen._

_1._ No question 'twas not well done in _Cæsario_, To cross the horse of young _Mentivole_ In the midst of this course.

_2._ That was not all, the switching him dull'd him.

_3._ Would that both the jades Had broke their necks, when they first started; 'Slight, We stand here prating, give them leave to whisper, And when they have cut one anothers throats

_Enter_ Mentivole, _and_ Cæsario.

Make in to part 'em.

_2._ There is no such hazard, Their Fathers friendship, and their love forbid it; See where they come!

_1._ With fury in their looks.

_Ment._ You have the wager, with what foul play got I'll not dispute:

_Cæsar._ Foul play?

_Ment._ I cannot speak it In a fairer language, and if some respects Familiar to my self chain'd not my tongue, I should say no more. I should, but I'll sit down, With this disgrace; how e'er press me no farther. For if once more provok'd, you'll understand I dare no more suffer an Injury, Than I dare do one.

_Cæsar._ Why Sir are you injur'd In that I take my right which I would force, Should you detain it?

_Ment._ Put it to judgment.

_Cæsar._ No; my will in this shall carry it.

_Ment._ Your will? nay, farewell softness then. [_They suddenly draw_

_3._ This I foresaw.

_2._ Hold, hold.

_Cæsar._ I am hurt.

_2._ Shift for your self, 'tis death.

_Men._ As you respect me, bear him off with care, If he miscarry since he did the wrong, I'll stand the shock of't.

_2._ Gently, he will faint else.-- [_Exeunt_ Gent. _with_ Cæsario.

_Ment._ And speedily, I beseech you; my rage over, That pour'd upon my reason clouds of error, I see my folly, and at what dear loss I have exchang'd a real innocence, To gain a meer fantastical report, Transported only by vain popular wind, To be a daring, nay, fool-hardy Man.

_Enter_ Baptista.

But could I satisfie my self within here, How should I bear my fathers frown? They meet me, My guilt conjures him hither.

_Bap._ Sirrah:

_Mentiv._ Sir:

_Bap._ I have met the trophies of your ruffian sword: Was there no other Anvile to make triall How far thou durst be wicked, but the bosome Of him, which under the adulterate name Of friendship, thou hast murder'd.

_Ment._ Murder'd Sir? My dreams abhor so base a fact; true valour Imploy'd to keep my reputation fair From the austerest Judge, can never merit To be branded with that title; you begot me A man, no coward; and but call your youth To memory, when injur'd, you could never Boast of the Asses fortitude, slave-like patience: And you might justly doubt I were your son, If I should entertain it; if _Cæsario_ Recover, as I hope his wound's not mortal, A second tryal of what I dare doe In a just cause, shall give strong witness for me I am the true heir to _Baptista's_ courage, As to his other fortunes.

_Baptist._ Boy, to neither: But on this strict condition, which intreaties From Saints, nay Angels, shall not make me alter. A friendship so began, and so continu'd Between me and _Alberto_ my best friend, Your brawls shall not dissolve; it is my will, And as I am thy Father, I command thee, That instantly, on any termes, how poor So e'er, it skills not, thou desire his pardon, And bring assurance to me, he has sign'd it, Or by my Fathers soul I'll never know thee: But as a stranger to my blood; perform it, And suddenly, without reply, I have said it.

_Ment._ And in it given a heavier sentence on me Than the most cruel death; you are my father And your will to be serv'd, and not disputed By me, that am your Son: But I'll obey, And though my heart-strings crack for't, make it known, When you command, my faculties are your own. [_Exeunt._

Actus Secundus. Scæna Prima.

_Enter_ Alberto, Physitian, _and a_ Chirurgion.

_Phys._ Have patience, Noble Sir; your son _Cæsario_ Will recover without question.

_Surgeon._ A slight wound. Though it pierc't his body, it hath miss'd the vitals.

_Phys._ My life for't, he shall take the air again within these ten dayes.

_Alber._ O but from a friend, To receive this bloody measure from a friend! If that a man should meet a violent death, In a place where he had taken sanctuary, Would it not grieve him? such all _Florence_ held Their friendship, and 'tis that which multiplies The injury.

_Physi._ Have patience worthy Signior.

_Alber._ I do protest, as I am Man and Soldier, If I had buried him in a wave at Sea, (Lost in some honorable action) I would not, to the saltness of his grave, Have added the least tear; but these quarrels

_Enter_ Mariana, _and_ Clarissa.

Bred out of game and wine, I had as live He should have died of a Surfet.

_Maria._ Oh what comfort! How is it with our Son Sir?

_Alber._ His Work-masters Bear me in hand here, as my Lawyer does, When I have a crackt Title, or bad Sute in Law, All shall go well.

_Maria._ I pray you Gentlemen, what think you of his wound.

_Physi._ 'Tis but a scratch, nothing to danger.

_Claris._ But he receiv'd it from a friend, And the unkindness ta'en at that, may kill him.

_Mari._ Let me see him:

_Physi._ By no means, he slumbers.

_Mari._ Then I cannot believe you, When you tell me there's hope of him.

_Alber._ Yet many Ladies Do give more faith to their Physitian Than to their Confessor.

_Claris._ O my poor lost brother, And friend more dear than Brother.

_Alber._ More loud instruments To disturb his slumbers! goe, goe, take Caroch: And as you love me, you and the Girle retire To our Summer house, i'th' Country; I'll be with you Within these two days.

_Maria._ I am yours in all things, Though with much sorrow to leave him. [_Exeunt_ Maria, Claris.

_Alber._ I pray you Gentlemen, With best observance tend your Patient; The loss of my heir-male, lies now a bleeding.

_Enter_ Mentivole.

And think what payment his recovery Shall show'r upon you, Of all men breathing; [_Exeunt_ Physitian, Chirur. Wherefore do you arrive here? Are you mad? My injury begins to bleed afresh At sight of you; why this affront of yours I receive more malitious than the other. Your hurt was only danger to my son: But your sight to me is death; Why come you hither? Do you come to view the wounds, which you have made? And glory in them?

_Menti._ Rather worthy Sir, to pour Oyl into them.

_Alber._ I am a Soldier Sir, Least part of a Courtier, and understand By your smooth Oyl, Your present flattery.

_Menti._ Sir, for my Fathers sake acknowledge me To be born a Gentleman, no slave; I ever Held flatterers of that breed; do not misconstrue In your distaste of me, the true intent Of my coming hither, for I do protest I do not come to tell you I am sorry For your sons hurt.

_Alber._ Not sorry?

_Menti._ No not sorry; I have to the lowest ebbe, lost all my fury: But I must not lose my honesty; 'twas he Gave heat unto the injury, which return'd (Like a Petar, ill lighted, into 'th' bosome Of him, gave fire to't) yet I hope his hurt, Is not so dangerous, but he may recover; When if it please him, call me to account, For the loss of so much blood, I shall be ready To do him noble reason.

_Alber._ You are arm'd me thinks with wondrous confidence.

_Menti._ O with the best Sir; For I bring penitence, and satisfaction.

_Alber._ Satisfaction? Why I heard you say but now, You were not sorry for his wounds.

_Menti._ Nor am I: the satisfaction which I bring Sir, is to you; You are a Gentleman ne'er injur'd me; One ever lov'd my Father, the right way, And most approv'd of noble amity. Yet I have run my sword quite through your heart, And slightly hurt your son; for't may be [f]ear'd, A grief ta'en at these years for your sons loss, May hazard yours: And therefore I am sent By him that has most interest in your sorrow; Who having chid me almost to the ruin Of a disheritance, for violating So continued and so sacred a friendship Of 50 Winters standing: such a friendship, That ever did continue like the spring; Ne'er saw the fall o'th' leaf; by him I am sent To say the wrong I have done Sir, is to you: And that I have quite lost him for a Father, Until I find your pardon; nay there follows A weightier deprivation; his Estate I could with a less number of sighs part with. Fortune might attend my youth, and my deservings In any Climate: but a Fathers blessing, To settle and confirm that fortune, no where; But only here. Your pardon, give me that; And when you have done, kill me; for 'tis that Takes from me the effect of excommunication; A Fathers heavy curse.

_Alber._ Nay, may that curse Light on himself, for sending thee in this minute: When I am grown as deaf to all compassion, As the cruellest Sea-fight, or most horrid tempest. That I had drown'd i'th' Sea a thousand duckets, Thou hadst not made this visit: rash young man, Thou tak'st me in an ill Planet, and hast cause To curse thy Father; for I do protest, If I had met thee in any part o'th' World, But under my own roofe, I would have kill'd thee.

_Within there._--_Enter_ Physitian, Chirurgion, _and_ Servants.

Look you! Here's a triumph sent for the death of your young Master.

_Serv._ Shall we kill him?

_Alber._ No, I'll not be so unhospitable; but Sir, By my life, I vow to take assurance from you, That right hand never more shall strike my son.

_Menti._ That will be easily protested.

_Alber._ Not easily, when it must be exacted, and a bloody seal to't. Bind him, and cut off's right hand presently: Fair words shall never satisfie foul deeds. Chop's hand off.

_Menti._ You cannot be so unrighteous, to your own honor.

_Phy._ O Sir, collect your self; And recall your bloody purpose.

_Alber._ My intents of this nature, do ever come to action.

_Chirur._ Then I must fetch another stickler.-- [_Exit._

_Alber._ Yet I do grieve at heart; And I do curse thy Father heartily, That's the cause of my dishonor; sending thee In such an hour, when I am apt for mischief: Apt, as a Dutchman after a Sea-fight, When his enemy kneels afore him; come dispatch.

_Phys._ Intreat him, Noble Sir.

_Menti._ You shall excuse me; Whatsoever he dares do, that I dare suffer.

_Enter_ Cæsario, _and_ Chirurgion.

_Cæsar._ Oh Sir, for honors sake stay your foul purpose, For if you do proceed thus cruelly, There is no question in the wound you give him, I shall bleed to death for't.

_Alber._ Thou art not of my temper, What I purpose, cannot be alter'd.

_Serv._ Sir; the Duke With all speed expects you. You must instantly Ship all your followers, and to sea.

_Alber._ My blessing stay with thee upon this condition, Take away his use of fighting; as thou hop'st To be accounted for my son, perform't.-- [_Exit._

_Cesar._ You hear what I am injoyn'd to.

_Menti._ Pray thee take it, Only this ring, this best esteem'd Jewel: I will not give't to'th' hangman chops it off; It is too dear a relique. I'll remove it nearer my heart.

_Cæsar._ Ha, that Ring's my Sisters. The Ring I injoyn'd her never part withal Without my knowledge; come, Sir, we are friends Pardon my fathers heat, and melancholy; Two violent Fevers which he caught at Sea, And cannot yet shake off: only one promise I must injoyn you to, and seriously. Hereafter you shall never draw a Sword To the prejudice of my life.

_Menti._ By my best hopes I shall not.

_Cæsar._ I pray deliver me your sword On that condition.

_Menti._ I shall Sir, may it hereafter Ever fight on your part.

_Cæsar._ Noble Sir, I thank you; But for performance of your vow, I intreat Some gage from you.

_Menti._ Any Sir.

_Cæsar._ Deliver me that ring.

_Menti._ Ha, this Ring? indeed this Jewel binds me, If you knew the vertue of it, never more To draw my sword against you.

_Cæsar._ Therefore I will have it.

_Menti._ You may not.

_Cæsar._ Come: you must. I that by violence could take your hand, Can inforce this from you; this is a token Sir, That we may prove friends hereafter. _Fare you well._

_Phys._ Why did you ceise his Sword Sir?

_Cesar._ To perform what my Father bade me, I have for the present ta'en away his Use of fighting.

_Phys._ Better so, Than take that which your Father meant. [_Exeunt_ Manet, Mentivole.

_Menti._ Was ever the like usage? O that Ring! Dearer than life, Whither is honor fled? _Cesario._ Thou art unmanly in each part, To seize my sword first, and then split my heart. [_Exit._

_Enter_ Host, _and_ Clown.

_Host._ Thy Master that lodges here in my Osteria, Is a rare man of art, they say he's a Witch.

_Clow._ A Witch? Nay, he's one step of the Ladder to preferment higher, he is a Conjurer.

_Host._ Is that his higher title?

_Clow._ Yes, I assure you, for a Conjurer is the Devils Master, and commands him; whereas a Witch is the Devils Prentice, and obeys him.

_Host._ Bound Prentice to the Devil!

_Clow._ Bound and inroll'd I assure you, he cannot start; and therefore I would never wish any Gentleman to turn Witch.

_Host._ Why Man?

_Clow._ Oh he loses his Gentility by it, the Devil in this case cannot help him, he must go to the Herald for new Armes believe it.

_Host._ As I am true Inkeeper, yet a Gentleman born, I'll ne'er turn Witch for that trick; And thou hast been a great Traveller?

_Clow._ No indeed, not I Sir.

_Host._ Come, you are modest.

_Clow._ No, I am not modest, for I told you a lye, that you might the better understand I have been a Traveller.

_Host._ So Sir, they say your Master is a great Physitian too.

_Clow._ He was no fool told you that, I assure you.

_Host._ And you have been in _England_? but they say, Ladies in _England_ take a great deal of Physick.

_Clow._ Both wayes on my reputation.

_Host._ So 'tis to be understood: But they say, Ladies there take Physick for fashion.

_Clow._ Yes Sir, and many times dye to keep fashion.

_Host._ How? dye to keep fashion!

_Clow._ Yes, I have known a Lady sick of the small Pocks, onely to keep her face from Pitholes, take cold, strike them in again, kick up the heels, and vanish.

_Host._ There was kicking up the heels with a witness.

_Clow._ No Sir; I confess a good face has many times been the motive to the kicking up of the heels with a witn[e]ss: but this was not.

_Enter_ Hostess, _and_ Bianca.

_Host._ Here comes my wife and daughter.

_Clow._ You have a prety commodity of this night-worm?

_Host._ Why Man?

_Clow._ She is a pretty lure to draw custom to your ordinary.

_Host._ Do'st think I keep her to that purpose?