Part 16

_Pros._ In my opinion The sentence (on this tryall) from the Duke Was noble, to repair _Cesario's_ loss With the marriage of your wife, had you been dead.

_Alber._ By your favor but it was not, I conceive T'was disparagement to my name, to have my widdow Match with a Faulkeiners son, and yet beli've't I love the youth still, and much pitty him. I do remember at my going to Sea, Upon a quarrel, and a hurt receiv'd From young _Mentivole_, my rage so far Oretopt my nobler temper, I gave charge To have his hand cut off, which since I heard, And to my comfort, brave _Cesario_, Worthyly prevented.

_Pros._ And 'twas nobly done.

_Albert_ Yet the revenge, for this intent of mine Hath bred much slaughter in our families, And yet my wife (which infinitely moans me) Intends to marry my sole heir _Clarissa_ To the head branch of the other faction.

_Pros._ 'Tis the mean to work reconcilement.

_Alber._ Between whom?

_Pros._ Your self and the worthy _Baptista_.

_Alber._ Never.

_Pros._ O you have been of a noble and remarkable friendship, And by this match 'tis generally in _Florence_ Hop'd, 'twill fully be reconcil'd; to me 'Twould be absolute content.

_Julia._ And to my self, I have main interest in it.

_Alb._ Noble Sir, you may command my heart to break for you But never to bend that way; poor _Cesario_, When thou put'st on thy mournfull willow-garland, Thy enemy shall be suted (I do vow) In the same livery, my _Cesario_ Loved as my foster child, though not my Son, Which in some countryes formerly were barbarous, Was a name held most affectionate; thou art lost, Unfortunate young man, not only slighted Where thou received'st thy breeding, but since scorn'd I th' way of marriage, by the poor _Bianca_ The In-keepers daughter.

_Pros._ I have heard of that too; But let not that afflict you: for this Lady May happily deliver at more leasure A circumstance may draw a fair event, Better than you can hope for. For this present we must leave you, And shall visit you again within these two hours.

----_Enter Cesario._

_Albert._ Ever to me most welcome,----O my _Cesario_.

_Cesar._ I am none of yours Sir, so 'tis protested; And I humbly beg, Since 'tis not in your power to preserve me Any longer in a noble course of life, Give me a worthy death.

_Alber._ The youth is mad.

_Cesar._ Nay Sir, I will instruct you in a way To kill me honorably.

_Alber._ That were most strange.

_Cesar._ I am turning Pirate, You may be imployed By the Duke to fetch me in; and in a Sea-fight Give me a noble grave.

_Alber._ Questionless he's mad: I would give any Doctor A thousand crowns to free him from this sorrow.

_Cesar._ Here's the Physitian.----_Shewes a Poniard._

_Alber._ Hold Sir, I did say To free you from the sorrow, not from life.

_Cesar._ Why life and sorrow are unseparable.

_Alber._ Be comforted _Cesario_, _Mentivole_ Shall not marry _Clarissa_.

_Cesar._ No Sir, ere he shall, I'll kill him.

_Alb[e]r._ But you forfeit your own life then.

_Cesar._ That's worth nothing.

_Alber. Cesario_, be thy self, be mine _Cesario_: Make not thy self uncapable of that portion I have full purpose to confer upon thee, By falling into madness: bear thy wrongs With noble patience, the afflicted's friend Which ever in all actions crowns the end.

_Ces._ You well awak'd me; nay recover'd me Both to sence and full life, O most noble sir, Though I have lost my fortune, and lost you For a worthy Father: yet I will not lose My former virtue, my integrity Shall not yet forsake me; but as the wild Ivy, Spreads and thrives better in some pittious ruin Of tower, or defac'd Temple, than it does Planted by a new building; so shall I Make my adversity my instrument To winde me up into a full content.

_Alber._ 'Tis worthily resolv'd; our first adventure Is to stop the marriage; for thy other losses, Practis'd by a womans malice, but account them Like conjurers winds rais'd to a fearfull blast, And do some mischeif, but do never last. [_Exeunt._

_Enter Forobosco and Clown._

_Clow._ Now sir, will you not acknowledge that I have mightily advanc'd your practice?

_Forobos._ 'Tis confest, and I will make thee a great man for't.

_Clow._ I take a course to do that my self, for I drink sack in abundance.

_Foro._ O my rare rascall! We must remove.

_Clow._ Whither?

_Foro._ Any whither: _Europe_ is too little to be coz'ned by us, I am ambitious to go to the _East-Indies_, thou and I to ride on our brace of Elephants.

_Clow._ And for my part I long to be in _England_ agen; you will never get so much as in _England_, we have shifted many countryes, and many names: but trance the world over you shall never purse up so much gold as when you were in _England_, and call'd your self Doctor _Lambe_-stones.

_Foro._ 'Twas an atractive name I confess, women were then my only admirers.

_Clow._ And all their visits was either to further their lust, or revenge injuries.

_Foro._ You should have forty in a morning beleaguer my closet, and strive who should be cozen'd first, amongst four-score love-sick waiting women that has come to me in a morning to learn what fortune should betide them in their first marriage, I have found above 94 to have lost their maiden-heads.

_Clow._ By their own confession, but I was fain to be your male midwife, and work it out of them by circumstance.

_Foro._ Thou wast, and yet for all this frequent resort of women and thy hand[l]ing of their urinals and their cases, thou art not given to lechery, what should be the reason of it? thou hast wholsome flesh enough about thee; me thinks the divell should tempt thee to't.

_Clow._ What need he do that, when he makes me his instrument to tempt others.

_Foro._ Thou canst not chuse but utter thy rare good parts; thou wast an excellent baud I acknowledge.

_Clow._ Well, and what I have done that way, I will spare to speak of all you and I have done sir, and though we should--

_Foro._ We will for _England_, that's for certain.

_Clow._ We shall never want there.

_Foro._ Want? their Court of Wards shall want money first: for I profess my self Lord Paramount over fools a[n]d madfolkes.

_Clow._ Do but store your self with lyes enough against you come thither.

_Foro._ Why that's all the familiarity I ever had with the Divell, my guift of lying, they say he's the Father of lyes; and though I cannot conjure, yet I profess my self to be one of his poor gossips. I will now reveale to thee a rare peece of service.

_Clow._ What is it my most worshipful Doctor _Lamb_-stones?

_Foro._ There is a Captain come lately from Sea, They call _Prosper_, I saw him this morning Through a chink of wainscote that divides my lodging,

And the Host of the house, withdraw my Host, and Hostess, the fair _Biancha_, and an antient gentlewoman into their bedchamber; I could not overhear their conference, but I saw such a mass of gold & Jewels, & when he had done he lock't it up into a casket; great joy there was amongst them, & forth they are gone into the city, and my Host told me at his going forth he thought he should not return till after supper: now Sir, in their absence will we fall to our picklocks, enter the chamber, seize the Jewels, make an escape from _Florence_, and we are made for ever.

_Clow._ But if they should go to a true conjurer, and fetch us back in a whirle-wind?

_Foro._ Do not believe there is any such fetch in _Astrology_, and this may be a means to make us live honest hereafter.

_Clow._ 'Tis but an ill road to't that lyes through the high way of theeving.

_Foro._ For indeed I am weary of this trade of fortune-telling; and mean to give all over, when I come into _England_, for it is a very ticklish quality.

_Clow._ And i'th' end will hang by a twine thred.

_Foro._ Besides the Island has too many of the profession, they hinder on[e] anothers market.

_Clow._ No, no, the pillory hinders their market.

_Foro._ You know there the jugling captain.

_Clow._ I there's a sure card.

_Foro._ Only the fore-man of their jury is dead, but he dyed like a Roman.

_Clow._ Else 'tis thought he had made work for the hangman.

_Foro._ And the very _Ball_, of your false prophets, he's quasht too.

_Clow._ He did measure the stars with a false yard, and may now travail to _Rome_, with a morter on's head to see if he can recover his money that way.

_Foro._ Come, come, lets fish for this casket, and to Sea presently.

_Clow._ We shall never reach _London_, I fear; My mind runs so much of hanging, landing at _Wapping_. [_Exeunt._

_Enter Mariana._

This well may be a day of joy long wish'd for To my _Clarissa_, she is innocent. Nor can her youth but with an open bosome Meet _Hymens_ pleasing bounties, but to me That am inviron'd with black guilt and horror It does appear a funeral though promising much In the conception were hard to mannage But sad in [the] event, it was not hate But fond indulgence in me to preserve _Cesario's_ threatn'd life in open court Then forc'd me to disclaime him, choosing rather To rob him of his birthright, and honor Than suffer him to run the hazard of Inrag'd _Baptista's_ fury, while he lives; I know I have a Son, and the Dukes sentence A while deluded, and this tempest over, When he assures himself despair hath seiz'd him. [_Knock within._

_Enter Baptista._

I can relieve and raise him--speak, who is it That presses on my privacies? Sir your pardon. You cannot come unwelcome, though it were To read my secret thoughts.

_Bap._ Lady to you Mine shall be ever open; Lady said I, That name keeps too much distance, sister rather I should have stil'd you, and I now may claime it, Since our divided families are made one By this blessed marriage; to whose honor comes The Duke in person, waited on by all The braveries of his Court, to witness it, And then to be our ghests, is the bride ready To meet and entertain him?

_Maria._ She attends the comming of your Son.

_Bap._ Pray you bring her forth. The Duke's at hand--Musick, in her loud voyce, Speaks his arrivall.

_Maria._ She's prepar'd to meet it. [--_Exit._

_Enter_ Mariana, Clarissa, _led by two Maids: at the other_ _door_, Baptista _meets with_ Mentivole, _led by two Cour[t]iers,_ _the Duke, Bishop; divers Attendants: (A Song) whilst_ _they salute_.

_Duke._ It were impertinent to wish you joy, Since all joyes dwell about you, _Hymens_ torch Was never lighted with a luckier _Omen_. Nor burnt with so much splendor, to defer With fruitless compliment, the means to make Your certain pleasures lawful to the world; Since in the union of your hearts they are Confirm'd already: would but argue us A boaster of our favours; to the Temple, And there the sacred knot once ti'd, all triumphs Our Dukedom can afford, shall grace your Nuptials.

_Enter_ Alberto _and_ Cesario.

_Bap._ On there.

_Ment._ I hope it is not in the power Of any to cross us now.

_Alber._ But in the breath Of a wrong'd Father I forbid the Banes.

_Cesar._ What, do you stand at gaze?

_Bap._ Risen from the dead!

_Maria._ Although the Sea had vomited up the Figure In which thy better part liv'd long imprison'd, True love despising fear, runs thus to meet it.

_Claris._ In duty I kneel to it.

_Alber._ Hence vile wretches, To you I am a substance incorporeal, And not to be prophan'd, with your vile touch? That could so soon forget me, but such things Are neither worth my Anger, nor reproof. To you great Sir, I turn my self and these Immediate Ministers of your Government, And if in my rude language I transgress; Ascribe it to the cold remembrance of My services, and not my rugged temper.

_Duke._ Speak freely, be thy language ne'er so bitter, To see thee safe _Alberto_, signes thy pardon.

_Alber._ My pardon? I can need none, if it be not Receiv'd for an offence. I tamely bear Wrongs, which a slave-born _Muscovite_ would check at. Why if for Treason I had been deliver'd Up to the Hangmans Axe, and this dead trunk Unworthy of a Christian Sepulchre; Expos'd a prey to feed the ravenous Vulture, The memory of the much I oft did for you, Had you but any touch of gratitude, Or thought of my deservings, would have stopp'd you From these unjust proceedings.

_Duke._ Hear the motives that did induce us.

_Alber._ I have heard them all, Your Highness sentence, the whole Court abus'd, By the perjuries and practice of this woman. (Wepest thou _Crocodile_) my hopeful son, Whom I dare swear mine own, degraded of The honors that descend to him from me: And from that, in his love scorn'd by a creature Whose base birth, though made eminent by her beauty, Might well have mark'd her out _Cesario's_ servant, All this I could have pardon'd and forgot; But that my daughter with my whole Estate So hardly purchas'd, is assign'd a Dower; To one whose Father, and whose Family I so detest; that I would lose my essence And be transformed to a Basiliske To look them dead, to me's an injury Admits no satisfaction.

_Bap._ There's none offer'd.

_Alber._ Nor would not be accepted, Though upon thy knees 'twere tender'd.

_Maria._ Now the storm grows high.

_Bap._ But that I thought thee dead, and in thy death The brinie Ocean had entomb'd thy name; I would have sought a Wife in a _Bordello_ For my _Mentivole_, and gladly hugg'd Her spurious issue as my lawful Nephews, Before his blood should e'er have mix'd with thine; So much I scorn it.

_Alber._ I'll not bandy words, but thus dissolve the contract.

_Bap._ There I meet thee, and seize on what's mine own.

_Alber._ For all my service, Great Sir, grant me the combat with this wretch, That I may scourge his insolence.

_Bap._ I kneel for it.

_Cesar._ And to approve my self _Alberto's_ Son, I'll be his second upon any odds, 'Gainst him that dare most of _Baptista's_ race.

_Menti._ Already upon honourable terms, In me thou hast met thy better, for her sake I'll add no more.

_Alber._ Sir, let our swords decide it.

_Maria._ Oh stay Sir, and as you would hold the Title Of a just Prince, e'r you grant licence to These mad-mens fury, lend your private ear To the most distress'd of Women.

_Duke._ Speak, 'tis granted. [_He takes_ Mariana _aside_.

_Clar._ In the mean time, let not _Clarissa_ be A patient looker on, though as yet doubtful, To whom to bend her knee first, yet to all I stoop thus low in duty, and would wash The dust of fury with my Virgin tears, From his bless'd feet, and make them beautiful That would move to conditions of peace, Though with a snail-like pace, they all are wing'd To bear you to destruction: reverend Sirs, Think on your antient friendship cemented With so much bloud, but shed in noble action, Divided now in passion for a brawl; The Makers blush to own, much lov'd _Cesario_. Brother, or friend, (each Title may prevail,) Remember with what tenderness from our childhood We lov'd together, you preferring me Before your self, and I so fond of you That it begot suspition in ill minds That our affection was incestuous. Think of that happy time, in which I know That with your dearest bloud you had prevented This shower of tears from me; _Mentivole_, My Husband, registred in that bright star-chamber, Though now on earth made strangers, be the example And offer in one hand the peaceful _Olive_ Of concord, or if that can be denied By powerful intercession in the other Carry the _Hermian_ rod, and force attonement, Now we will not be all marble. Death's the worst then And he shall be my Bridegroom. [_Offers to kill her self._

_Ment._ Hold _Clarissa_, his loving violence needs must Offer in spite of honor.-- [_He snatches away her knife, and sets it to his own breast, she staies his hand._

_Duke._ Was it to that end then on your Religion?

_Mar._ And my hope in Heaven, Sir.

_Duke._ We then will leave intreaties, and make use Of our authority, must I cry ai-me To this unheard of insolence? in my presence To draw your swords, and as all reverence That's due to Majesty were forfeited, Cherish this wildeness! sheath them instantly, And shew an alteration in your looks, or by my power.

_Alber._ Cut off my head.

_Bap._ And mine, rather than hear of peace with this bad man. I'll not alone, give up my throat, but suffer Your rage to reach my family.

_Enter_ Prospero, Juliana, Biancha.

_Alb._ And my name to be no more remembred.

_Duke._ What are these?

_Ces. Biancha_, 'tis _Biancha_, still _Biancha_: but strangely alter'd.

_Bapt._ If that thirteen years Of absence could raze from my memory The figure of my friend, I might forget thee; But if thy Image be graven on my heart, Thou art my _Prospero_.

_Pros._ Thou my _Baptista_?

_Duke._ A suddain change!

_Bap._ I dare not ask, dear friend If _Juliana_ live! for that's a blessing I am unworthy of, but yet denie not To let me know the place she hath made happy By having there her Sepulchre.

_Pros._ If your Highness please to vouchsafe a patient Ear, we shall make a true relation of a story That shall call on your wonder.

_Duke._ Speak, we hear you.

_Pros. Baptista_'s fortune in the _Genoua_ Court, His banishment, with his fair Wife's restraint You are acquainted with; what since hath follow'd I faithfully will deliver. E'r eight Moons After _Baptista_'s absence were compleat, Fair _Juliana_ found the pleasures, that They had injoy'd together, were not barren, And blushing at the burthen of her womb, No father near to own it, it drew on A violent sickness, which call'd down compassion From the angry Duke, then careful of her health. Physitians were enquir'd of, and their judgment Prescrib'd the Baths of _Luca_ as a means For her recovery; to my charge it pleas'd her To be committed; but as on the way We journey'd, those throws only known to Women Came thick upon her, in a private Village.

_Bap._ She died?

_Pros._ Have patience, she brought to the world A hopeful Daughter; for her bodies sickness It soon decay'd, but the grief of her mind Hourly increas'd, and life grew tedious to her, And desperate e'er to see you; she injoyn'd me To place her in a _Greekish_ Monastery, And to my care gave up her pretty Daughter.

_Bapt._ What Monastery? as a Pilgrim bare-foot, I'll search it out.

_Pros._ Pray you interrupt me not, Now to my fortunes; the girl well dispos'd of With a faithful friend of mine, my cruel fate Made me a prisoner to the _Turkish_ Gallies, Where for 12 years, these hands tugg'd at the Oar, But fortune tyr'd at length with my afflictions, Some Ships of _Maltha_ met the _Ottoman_ Fleet, Charg'd them, and boarded them, and gave me freedom. With my deliverers I serv'd, and got Such reputation with the great Master That he gave me command over a tall And lusty ship, where my first happy service Was to redeem _Alberto_ rumour'd dead, But was like me surpriz'd by _Cortugogly_.

_Alber._ I would I had died there.

_Pros._ And from him learning _Baptista_ liv'd, and their dissolv'd friendship, I hois'd up sails for _Greece_, found _Juliana_ A votary at her Beads; having made known Both that you liv'd, and where you were: she borrow'd So much from her devotion, as to wish me To bring her to you; if the object please you, With joy receive her.

_Bapt._ Rage and fury leave me. [_Throws away his sword._ I am so full of happiness, there's no room left To entertain you, oh my long lost Jewel, Light of mine eyes, my souls strength.

_Julia._ My best Lord, having embrac'd you thus, Death cannot fright me.

_Bapt._ Live long to do so, though I should fix here. Pardon me _Prospero_, though I enquire my daughters fortune.

_Pros._ That your happiness May be at all parts perfect, here she is!

_Ces. Biancha_, daughter to a Princess.

_Pros._ True with my faithful Host I left her, And with him till now she hath resided, Ignorant both of her birth and greatness.

_Bap._ Oh my blest one. Joy upon joy o'erwhelms me.

_Duke._ Above wonder.

_Alb._ I do begin to melt too, this strange story Works much upon me.

_Duke._ Since it hath pleas'd heaven To grace us with this miracle, I that am Heavens instrument here, determine thus; _Alberto_ Be not unthankful for the blessings shown you, Nor you _Baptista_; discord was yet never A welcome sacrifice; therefore rage laid by, Embrace as friends, and let pass'd difference Be as a dream forgotten.

_Bap._ 'Tis to me.

_Alber._ And me, and thus confirm it.

_Duke._ And to tye it In bonds not to be broken, with the marriage Of young _Mentivole_, and fair _Clarissa_, So you consent great Lady, your _Biancha_ Shall call _Cæsario_ Husband.

_Julia._ 'Tis a motion I gladly yield to.

_Cesar._ One in which you make a sad man happy. [_Offers to kneel._

_Bian._ Kneel not, all forgiven.

_Duke._ With the Duke your Uncle I will make attonement, and will have no denial.

_Enter Host_, Forobosco, _Clown and Officers_.

_Mar._ Let this day be still held sacred.

_Host._ Now if you can conjure, let the Devil unbind you.

_Foro._ We are both undone.

_Clow._ Already we feel it.

_Host._ Justice Sir.

_Duke._ What are they?

_Pros._ I can resolve you, slaves freed from the Gallies By the Viceroy of _Sicilia_.

_Duke._ What's their offence?

_Host._ The robbing me of all my Plate and Jewels, I mean the attempting of it.

_Clow._ Please your Grace I will now discover this Varlet in earnest, this honest pestilent rogue, profest the Art of Conjuring, but all the skill that ever he had in the black Art, was in making a Seacole fire; only with wearing strange shapes, he begot admiration amongst Fools and Women.

_Foro._ Wilt thou peach thou varlet?

_Duke._ Why does he goggle with his eyes, and stalke so?

_Clow._ This is one of his Magical raptures.

_Foro._ I do vilifie your censure, you demand if I am guilty, whir says my cloak by a trick of Legerdemain, now I am not guilty, I am guarded with innocence, pure Silver Lace I assure you.

_Clow._ Thus have I read to you your virtues, which notwithstanding I would not have you proud of.

_Foro._ Out thou concealment of Tallow, and counterfeit _Mummia_.

_Duke._ To the Gallies with them both.

_Clow._ The only Sea-physick for a knave, is to be basted in a Gally, with the oil of a Bulls Peesel.

_Foro._ And will not you make a sour face at the same sauce, sirrah? I hope to find thee so lean in one fortnight, thou mayst be drawn by the ears through the hoop of [a] firkin.

_Duke._ Divide them, and away with them to th' Gallies.

_Clow._ This will take down your pride, Jugler.

_Duke._ This day that hath given birth to blessings beyond hope, admits no criminal sentence: to the Temple, and there with humbleness, praise heavens bounties;