Part 20

_Tim._ By no means Sir, rather, make more your love, And hold your favor to him: for 'tis now Impossible to yoke him, if his thoughts, As I must ne'er believe, run with their rages, He never was so innocent, but what reason His Grace has to withdraw his love from me, And other good men that are near your person, I cannot yet find out: I know my duty Has ever been attending.

_Leon._ 'Tis too plain: He means to play the villain, I'll prevent him, not a word more of this, be private.

[_Exit Leontius._

_Tim._ Madam 'tis done.

_Bac._ He cannot escape me. Have you spoken with the noble men?

_Tim._ Yes Madam they are here: I wait a farther service.

_Bac._ Till [you see] the Prince, you need no more instructions.

_Tim._ No, I have it. [_Exit Timantus._

_Enter Dorialus, Nisus, Agenor._

_Bac._ That fool that willingly provoks a woman, Has made himself another evill Angell, And a new Hell, to which all other torments Are but mere pastime: Now my noble Lords, You must excuse me, that unmannerly We have broke your private business.

_Agen._ Your good Grace may command us, and that.

_Bac._ Faith my Lord _Agenor_: 'Tis so good a cause I am confident, you cannot loose by it.

_Dorialus._ Which way does she fish now? The devill is but a fool to a right woman.

_Nisus._ Madam, we must needs win in doing service to such a gracious Lady.

_Bac._ I thank you, and will let you know the business: So I may have your helps, never be doubtfull, For 'tis so just a cause, and will to you Upon the knowledge seem so honorable, That I assure my self your willing hearts Will strait be for me in it.

_Age._ If she should prove good now, what wer't like?

_Dorial._ Thunder in _Januarie_, or a good woman, That's stranger than all _Affrick_.

_Bac._ It shall not need your wonder, this it is: The Duke you know is old, and rather subject To ease and prayers now, than all those troubles, Cares, and continuall watchings, that attend A Kingdomes safety, therefore to prevent The fall of such a flourishing Estate As this has [ever] been, and to put off The murmure of the people that encrease Against my government, which the gods knows I onely feel the trouble of: I present The Prince unto your loves, a Gent. In whom all Excellencies are knit together, All peeces of a true man, let your prayers Win from the Duke half his Vexation, That he may undertake it, whose discretion I must confess, though it be from the Father, Yet now is stronger, and more apt to govern. 'Tis not my own desire, but all the Lands, I know the weakeness of it.

_Nisus._ Madam, this noble care and love has won us For ever to your lives, we'll to the King, And since your Grace has put it in our mouths, We'll win him with the cunning'st words we can.

_Dorial._ I was never cousen'd in a woman before. For commonly they are like Apples: If once they bruise They will grow rotten thorow, and serve for nothing but to asswage swellings.

_Bac._ Good Lords delay no time, since 'tis your good Pleasures to think my counsell good, and by no means Let the Prince know it, whose affections Will stir mainly against it: besides his Father May hold him dangerous, if it be not carried So that his forward will appear not in it, Go, and be happy.

_Dorial._ Well, I would not be Chronicl'd as thou Wilt be for a good woman, for all the world.

_Nisus._ Madam, we kiss your hand, and so inspire. Nothing but happiness can crown our prayers. [_Exeunt._

_Actus Quart[us]. Scæna Prima._

_Enter Leucippus, Ismenus._

_Leu._ And thus she has us'd me, is't not a good mother?

_Ismenus._ Why kill'd you her not?

_Leu._ The gods forbid it.

_Ismenus._ S'light, if all the women i'th' world were barren, shee had dy'd.

_Leuc._ But 'tis not reason directs thee thus.

_Ismen._ Then have I none at all, for all I have in me Directs me: Your Father's in a pretty rage.

_Leucippus._ Why?

_Ismenus._ Nay, 'tis well, if he know himself, but some of the Nobility have deliver'd a petition to him: what's in't, I know not, but it has put him to his trumps: he has taken a months time to answer it, and chafes like himself.

_Enter Leontius, Bacha, and Tellamon._

_Leu._ He's here _Ismenus_.

_Leon._ Set me down _Tellamon_. _Leucippus._

_Leu._ Sir.

_Bach._ Nay good Sir, be at peace, I dare swear he kn[ew] not of it.

_Leon._ You are foolish: peace.

_Bach._ All will go ill, deny it boldly Sir, trust me he cannot prove it by you.

_Leu._ What?

_Bach._ You'll make all worse too with your facing it.

_Leuc._ What is the matter?

_Leon._ Know'st thou that petition? Look on it well: wouldst thou be joyn'd with me (Unnaturall child to be weary of me) E'r Fate esteem me fit for other worlds.

_Bac._ May be he knows not of it.

_Leu._ Oh strange carriages! Sir, as I have hope that there is any thing To reward doing well, my usages Which have been (but 'tis no matter what) Have put me so far from the thought of Greatness, That I should welcome it like a disease That grew upon me, and I could not cure. They are my enemies that gave you this, And yet they call me friend, and are themselves I fear abus'd. I am weary of my life, For Gods sake take it from me: it creates More mischief in the State than it is worth, The usage I have had, I know would make Wisdom her self run frantick through the streets, And Patience quarrel with her shadow. Sir, this sword--

_Bac._ Alas! help for the love of Heaven, Make way through me first, for he is your Father.

_Leon._ What, would he kill me?

_Bac._ No Sir, no.

_Leon._ Thou always [mak'st] the best on't, but I fear--

_Leu._ Why do you use me thus? who is't can think That I would kill my Father, that can yet Forbear to kill you? Here Sir, is my sword; I dare not touch it, lest she say again I would have kill'd you: let me not have mercy When I most need it, if I would not change Place with my meanest servant. Let these faults Be mended Madam: if you saw how ill They did become you, you would part with them.

_Bac._ I told the Duke as much before.

_Leu._ What? what did you tell him?

_Bac._ That it was only an ambition, Nurst in you by your youth, provok'd you thus, Which age would take away.

_Leon._ It was his doing then? come hither Love.

_Bac._ No indeed, Sir.

_Leu._ How am I made, that I can bear all this? If any one had us'd a friend of mine [nere] this, My hand had carried death about it.

_Leon._ Lead me hence _Tellamon_: come my dear _Bacha_, I shall find time for this.

_Ism._ Madam, you know I dare not speak before The King; but you know well, if not, I'll tell [it] you, You are the most wicked'st, and most murderous Strumpet, that ever was call'd Woman.

_Bac._ My Lord, what can I do for him? he shall command me.

_Leon._ I know thou art too kind; away I say.

[_Exit_ Leon. Bac. Tima. Telia.

_Isme._ Sir, I am sure we dream, this cannot be.

_Leu._ Oh that we did, my wickedness has brought All this to pass, else I should bear my self.

_Enter_ Urania.

_Isme._ Look, doe you see who's there? your virtuous Mothers issue: kill her, yet take some little pidling revenge.

_Leu._ Away, the whole Court calls her virtuous; for they say, she is unlike her Mother, and if so, she can have no vice.

_Ism._ I'll trust none of 'em that come of such a breed.

_Leu._ But I have found A kind of love in her to me: alas, Think of her death! I dare be sworn for her, She is as free from any hate to me As her bad Mother's full. She was brought up I'th' Countrey, as her tongue will let you know

_Enter_ Urania.

If you but talk with her, with a poor Uncle, Such as her Mother had.

_Ism._ She's come again.

_Ura._ I would fene speak to the good Marquess my brother, if I but thought he could abaid me.

_Leu._ Sister, how do you?

_Ura._ Very well I thank you.

_Ism._ How does your good Mother?

_Leu._ Fie, fie, _Ismenus_ for shame, mock such an innocent soul as this.

_Ura._ Feth a she be no good, [G]od may her so.

_Leu._ I know you wish it with your heart dear Sister, but she is good I hope.

_Ism._ Are you so simple, to make so much of this? Do you not know, That all her wicked Mother labours for, is but to raise Her to your right, and leave her this Dukedom?

_Ura._ I, but ne'r Sir be afred; For though she take th' ungain'st weas she can, I'll ne'er ha't fro' you.

_Leu._ I should hate my self _Ismenus_; If I should think of her simplicity, Ought but extreamly well.

_Ism._ Nay, as you will.

_Ura._ And though she be my Mother, If she take any caurse to do you wrong, If I can see't, youst quickly hear on't Sir: And so I'll take my leave.

_Leu._ Farewel good Sister, I thank you. [_Exit_ Urania.

_Ism._ You believe all this.

_Leu._ Yes.

_Enter_ Timantus.

_Ism._ A good faith doth well, but methinks It were no hard matter now, for her Mother to send her: Yonder's one you may trust if you will too.

_Leu._ So I will, if he can shew me as apparent signs Of truth as she did; Does he weep _Ismenus_?

_Ism._ Yes, I think so: some good's happen'd I warrant: Do you hear, you? What honest man has scap'd misery, that [you are] crying thus?

_Tim._ Noble _Ismenus_, where's the Prince?

_Ism._ Why there! hast wept thine eyes out?

_Tim._ Sir, I beseech you hear me.

_Leu._ Well, speak on.

_Ism._ Why, will you hear him?

_Leu._ Yes _Ismenus_, why?

_Ism._ I would hear blasphemy as willingly.

_Leu._ You are [to] blame.

_Tim._ No Sir: he is not to blame: If I were as I was.

_Ism._ Nor as thou art, yfaith awhit [to] blame.

_Leu._ What's your business?

_Tim._ Faith Sir, I am ashamed to speak before you, My conscience tells me I have injur'd you, And by the earnest instigation Of others, have not done you to the King Always the best and friendliest offices; Which pardon me, or I will never speak.

_Ism._ Never pardon him and silence a knave.

_Leu._ I pardon thee.

_Tim._ Your Mother sure is naught.

_Leu._ Why shouldst thou think so?

_Tim._ Oh noble, Sir, your honest eyes perceive not The dangers you are led to; shame upon her, And what fell miseries the gods can think on Shower down upon her wicked head, she has plotted I know too well your death: would my poor life Or thousand[s] such as mine is, might be offer'd Like sacrifices up for your preserving, What free oblations would she have to glut her, But she is merciless, and bent to ruin; If heaven and good men step not to your rescue, And timely, very timely: Oh this Dukedom! I weep, I weep for the poor Orphans i'th' Countrey Left with but Friends or Parents.

_Leu._ Now _Ismenus_, what think you of this fellow? This was a lying knave, a flatterer, Does not this Love still shew him so.

_Ism._ This Love? this Halter: if he prove not yet The cunning'st rankest rogue that ever Canted, I'll never see man again: I know him to bring, And can interpret every new face he makes; Look how he wrings like a good stool for a tear: Take heed, Children and Fools First feel the smart, Then weep.

_Leu._ Away, away, such an unkind distrust, Is worse than a dissembling, if it be one, And sooner leads to mischief, I believe it, And him an honest man: he could not carry Under an evil cause, so true a sorrow.

_Ism._ Take heed, this is your Mothers scorpion, That carries stings even in his tears, Whose soul is a rank poison through: Touch Not at him, if you do, you are gone, if you had twenty Lives: I knew him for a Roguish boy, when He would poison Dogs, and keep tame Toads, He lay with his Mother, and infected her, and now She begs i'th' Hospital, with a patch of Velvet, Where her Nose stood: like the Queen of Spades. And all her teeth in her purse, the Devil and this Fellow are so near, 'Tis not yet known which is the eviler Angel.

_Leu._ Nay, then I see 'tis spite: Come hither friend. Hast thou not heard the cause yet that incens'd my Mother to my death, for I protest I feel none in my self?

_Tim._ Her Will Sir, and Ambition, as I think, Are the provokers of it, as in Women, Those two are ever powerful to destruction, Beside a hate of your still growing virtues, She being only wicked.

_Leu._ Heavens defend me as I am innocent, And ever have been from all immoderate thoughts and Actions, that carry such rewards along w[i]th 'em.

_Tim._ Sir, all I know, my duty must reveal, My Countrey and my Love command it from me, For whom I'll lay my life down: this night coming, A Counsel is appointed by the Duke, To sit about your apprehension: If you dare trust my faith: which by all good things Shall ever watch about you: goe along, And to a place I'll guide you: where no word Shall scape without your hearing, nor no plot Without discovering to you, which once known, you have your answers and prevention.

_Ism._ You are not so mad to goe; shift off this fellow, you shall be rul'd once by a wise man: Ratsbane get you gone, or--

_Leu._ Peace, peace for shame, thy love is too suspitious, 'tis a way offer'd to preserve my life, and I will take it: be my Guide _Timantus_ and do not mind this angry man, thou know'st him: I may live to requite thee.

_Tim._ Sir, this service is done for virtues sake, not for reward, however he may hold me.

_Ism._ The great pox on you: but thou hast that curse so much, 'twill grow a blessing in thee shortly. Sir, for wisdoms sake court not your death, I am your friend and subject, and I shall lose in both: if I lov'd you not, I would laugh at you, and see you run your neck into the noose, and cry a Woodcock.

_Leu._ So much of man, and so much fearful; fie, prethee have peace within thee: I shall live yet many a golden day to hold thee here dearest and nearest to me: Go on _Timantus_, I charge you by your love no more, no more. [_Exeunt_ Leu. Tim.

_Ism._ Goe, and let your own rod whip you: I pity you. And dog, if he miscarry thou shalt pay for't, I'll study for thy punishment, and it shall last Longer and sharper than a tedious Winter, Till thou blasphem'st, and then thou diest and damn'st. [_Exit._

_Enter_ Leontius _and_ Tellamon.

_Leon._ I wonder the Dutchess comes not.

_Tel._ She has heard, Sir, your Will to speak with her: But there is something leaden at her heart; (Pray God it be not mortal) that even keeps her From conversation with her self.

_Enter the Dutchess._

_B._ Oh whither will you my cross affections pull me? Fortune, Fate, and you whose powers direct our actions, And dwell within us: you that are Angels Guiding to virtue, wherefore have you given So strong a hand to evil? wherefore suffer'd A Temple of your own, you Deities Where your fair selves dwelt only, and your goodness Thus to be soyl'd with sin?

_Leon._ Heaven bless us all. From whence comes this distemper? speak my fair one.

_Bac._ And have you none, Love and Obedience, You[r] ever faithful Servants to imploy In this strange story of impiety, But me a Mother; Must I be your strumpet? To lay black Treason upon, and in him, In whom all sweetness was: in whom my love Was [proud] to have a Being, in whom Justice, And all the gods for our imaginations Can work into a man, were more than virtues, Ambition down to hell, where thou wert foster'd, Thou hast poison'd the best soul, the purest, whitest, And meerest innocent'st it self that ever Mens greedy hopes gave life to.

_Leon._ This is still stranger: lay this treason Open to my correction.

_Bac._ Oh what a combat duty and affection Breeds in my blood!

_Leon._ If thou conceal'st him, may, Beside my death, the curses of the Countrey, Troubles of conscience, and a wretched end, Bring thee unto a poor forgotten grave.

_Bach._ My Being: for another tongue to tell it, Cease, a Mother! some good man that dares Speak for his King and Countrey: I am full Of too much womans pity: yet oh Heaven, Since it concerns the safety of my Sovereign, Let it not be a cruelty in me, Nor draw a Mothers name in question, Amongst unborn people, to give up that man To Law and Justice, that unrighteously Has sought his Fathers death: be deaf: be deaf Sir, Your Son is the offender: Now have you all, Would I might never speak again.

_Leon._ My Son! Heaven help me. No more! I thought it, and since His life is grown so dangerous: Let them that Gave him, take him: he shall dye, And with him all my fears.

_Bac._ Oh use your mercy: you have a brave subject To bestow it on. I'll forgive him, Sir; and for his Wrong to me, I'll be before ye.

_Leon._ Durst his villany extend to thee?

_Bac._ Nothing but heats of youth, Sir.

_Leon._ Upon my life he sought my bed.

_Bacha._ I must confess he loved me Somewhat beyond a Son: and still pursu'd it With such a Lust, I will not say _Ambition_: That clean forgetting all obedience, And only following his first heat unto me, He hotly sought your death, and me in Marriage.

_Leon._ Oh Villain!

_Bac._ But I forget all: and am half asham'd To press a man so far.

_Enter_ Timantus.

_Tim._ Where is the Duke? for Gods sake bring me to him:

_Leon._ Here I am: each corner of the Dukedom Sends new affrights forth: what wouldst thou? speak.

_Tim._ I cannot Sir, my fear ties up my tongue:

_Leon._ Why, what's the matter? Take thy courage To thee, and boldly speak, where are the Guard? In the gods name, out with it:

_Tim._ Treason, treason.

_Leon._ In whom?

_Bacha._ Double the Guard.

_Tim._ There is a fellow, Sir.

_Leon._ Leave shaking man.

_Timan._ 'Tis not for fear, but wonder.

_Leon._ Well.

_Timan._ There is a fellow, Sir, close i'th' Lobby: You o'the Guard, look to the door there.

_Leon._ But let me know the business.

_Tima._ Oh that the hearts of men should be so hard'ned Against so good a Duke, for Gods sake, Sir, Seek means to save your self; This wretched slave Has his sword in his hand, I know his heart: Oh it hath almost kill'd me with the thought of it.

_Leon._ Where is he?

_Enter the Guard, and bring him in._

_Timan._ I'th' Lobby Sir, close in a corner: Look to your selves for Heavens sake, Me thinks he is here already. Fellows of the Guard be valiant.

_Leon._ Goe Sirs, and apprehend him; Treason shall Never dare me in mine own Gates.

_Tim._ 'Tis done. [_There they bring the Prince in._

_Bacha._ And thou shalt find it to thy best content.

_Leon._ Are these the comforts of my age? They're happy that end their daies contented With a little, and live aloof from dangers, to a King Every content doth a new peril bring. Oh let me live no longer, shame of Nature, Bastard to Honor: Traytor, Murderer, Devil in a humane shape. Away with him, He shall not breathe his hot [inf]ection here.

_Leu._ Sir, hear me.

_Leon._ Am I or he your Duke? away with him To a close prison: your Highness now shall know, Such branches must be cropt before they grow.

_Leu._ Whatever fortune comes, I bid it welcome, My innocency is my Armor: gods preserve you. [_Exit._

_Bacha._ Fare thee well, I shall never see so brave a Gent. Would I could weep out his offences.

_Tim._ Or I could weep out mine eyes.

_Leon._ Come Gentlemen, we'll determine presently About his death: we cannot be too forward in our Safety: I am very sick, lead me unto my bed. [_Exeunt._

_Enter Citizen and his Boy._

_Cit._ Sirrah, goe fetch my Fox from the Cutlers: There's money for the scowring: Tell him I stop a groat since the last great Muster: he had in stone Pitch for the bruise: he took with the recoyling of his Gun.

_Boy._ Yes Sir.

_Cit._ And do you hear? when you come, Take down my Buckler, and sweep the Cobwebs off: and grind the pick o[n']t, and fetch a Nail or two: and tack on bracers: your Mistriss made a pot-lid ont't, I thank her, at her Ma[yd]s Wedding, and burnt off the Handle.

_Boy._ I will Sir. [_Exit._

_Cit._ Who's within here, hoe Neighbor, not stirring yet?

_2 Cit._ Oh, good morrow, good morrow: what news, what news?

_1 Cit._ It holds, he dies this morning.

_2 Cit._ Then happy man be his fortune, I am resolv'd.

_1 Cit._ And so am I, and forty more good fellows, That will not give their heads for the washing, I take it.

_2 Cit._ 'Sfoot man, who would not hang in such good company, and such a cause? A Fire, a Wife and Children; 'Tis such a jest that men should look behind 'em to the world: and let their honors, their honors neighbor, slip.

_1 Cit._ I'll give thee a pint of _Bastard_ and a Roll for that bare word.

_2 Cit._ They say, that we Tailors, are things that lay one another, and our Geese hatch us: I'll make some of 'em feel they are Geese o'th' game then. I'fack, take down my Bill, 'tis ten to one I use it. Take a good heart man, all the low ward is ours, with a wet finger. An[d] lay my cut-fing'red Gantlet ready for me, That, that I us'd to work in, when the Gentl. were Up against us, and beaten out of Town, and almost out o' Debt too: for a plague on 'em they never paid well since: And take heed sirrah, your Mistriss hears not of this Business, she's near her time: yet if she do, I care not, she may long for Rebellion, For she has a devilish spirit.

_1 Cit._ Come, let's call up the new Iremonger, he's as tough as steel, and has a fine wit in these resurrections; Are you stirring neighbor?

_3. Within._ Oh, Good morrow neighbors, I'll come to you presently.

_2._ Goe to, this is his Mothers doing; she's a _Polecat_.

_1._ As any is in the world.

_2._ Then say, I have hit it, and a vengeance on her, let her be what she will.

_1. Amen_ say I, she has brought things to a fine pass with her wisdom: do you mark it?

_2._ One thing I am sure she has, the good old Duke, she gives him pap again they say, and dandles him, and hangs a corral and bells about his neck, and makes him believe his teeth will come agen; which if they did, and I he, I would worry her as never Curr was worried: I would neighbor, till my teeth met I know where, but that's counsel.

_Enter [third] Citizen._

_3._ Good morrow neighbors: hear you the sad news?

_1._ Yes, would we knew as well how to prevent it.

_3._ I cannot tell, methinks 'twere no great matter, if men were men: but--

_2._ You do not twit me with my calling neighbor?

_3._ No surely: for I know your spirit to be tall; pray be not vext.

_2._ Pray forward with your counsel: I am what I am, and they that prove me shall find me to their cost: do you mark me neighbor, to their cost I say.

_1._ Nay, look how soon you are angry!

_2._ They shall neighbors: yes, I say they shall.

_3._ I do believe they shall.

_1._ I know they shall.

_2._ Whether you do or no I care not two pence, I am no beast, I know mine own strength neighbors; God bless the King, your companies is fair.

_1._ Nay neighbor, now ye erre, [I] tell you so, and ye [were] twenty Neighbors.

_3._ You had best goe peach, doe, peach.

_2._ Peach; I scorn the motion.