Part 3

_Thier._ You have nam'd A blessing that I most desir'd, I pledge you; Give me a larger cup, that is too little Unto so great a god.

_Brun._ Nay, then you wrong me, Follow as I began.

_Thier._ Well as you please.

_Brun._ Is't done?

_Lecu._ Unto your wish I warrant you, For this night I durst trust him with my Mother.

_Thier._ So 'tis gone round, lights.

_Brun._ Pray you use my service.

_Ordel._ 'Tis that which I shall ever owe you, Madam, And must have none from you, pray [you] pardon me.

_Thier._ Good rest to all.

_Theod._ And to [you] pleasant labour. _Mart[ell]_ Your company, Madam, good night.

[_Exeunt all but_ Brunhalt, Protal, Lecure, Bawdber.

_Brun._ Nay, you have cause to blush, but I will hide it, And what's more, I forgive you; is't not pity That thou that art the first to enter combate With any Woman, and what is more, o'ercome her, In which she is best pleas'd, should be so [fearefull] To meet a man.

_Prot._ Why would you have me lose That bloud that is dedicated to your service In any other quarrel?

_Brun._ No, reserve it, As I will study to preserve thy credit: You sirrah, be't your care to find out one That is poor, though valiant, that at any rate Will, to redeem my servants reputation, Receive a publique baffling.

_Bawdb._ Would your Highness Were pleas'd to inform me better of your purpose.

_Brun._ Why one, Sir, that would thus be box'd Or kick'd, do you apprehend me now?

_Bawdb._ I feel you Madam, The man that shall receive this from my Lord, Shall have a thousand crowns.

_Pro._ He shall.

_Bawdb._ Besides His day of bastinadoing past o'er, He shall not lose your grace, nor your good favour?

_Brun._ That shall make way to it.

_Bawdb._ It must be a man Of credit in the Court, that is to be The foil unto your v[a]lour.

_Prot._ True, it should.

_Bawdb._ And if he have place there, 'tis not the worse.

_Brun._ 'Tis much the better.

_Bawdb._ If he be a Lord, 'Twill be the greater grace.

_Brun._ Thou art in the right.

_Bawdb._ Why then behold that valiant man and Lord, That for your sake will take a cudgeling: For be assur'd, when it is spread abroad That you have dealt with me, they'll give you out For one of the Nine Worthies.

_Brun._ Out you pandar, Why, to beat thee is only exercise For such as do affect it, lose not time In vain replies, but do it: come my solace Let us to bed, and our desires once quench'd We'll there determine of _Theodorets_ death For he's the Engine us'd to ruin us; Yet one wor[d] more, _Lecure_, art thou assur'd The potion will work?

_Lecure._ My life upon it.

_Brun._ Come my _Protaldye_, then glut me with Those best delights of man, that are deny'd To her that does expect them, being a Bride.

_Actus Tertius. Scæna Prima._

_Enter_ Thierry, _and_ Ordella, _as from bed_.

_Thier._ Sure I have drunk the bloud of Elephants: The tears of Mandrake, and the Marble dew, Mixt in my draught, have quencht my natural heat, And left no spark of fire, but in mine eyes, With which I may behold my miseries: Ye wretched flames which play upon my sight, Turn inward, make me all one piece, though earth. My tears shall over-whelm you else too.

_Or._ What moves my Lord to this strange sadness? If any late discerned want in me, Give cause to your repentance, care and duty Shall find a painful way to recompence.

_Thier._ Are you yet frozen veins, feel you a breath, Whose temperate heat would make the North Star reel, Her Icy pillars thaw'd, and do you not melt? Draw nearer, yet nearer, That from thy barren kiss thou maist confess I have not heat enough to make a blush.

_Ordel._ Speak nearer to my understanding, like a Husband.

_Thier._ How should he speak the language of a Husband, Who wants the tongue and organs of his voice?

_Ordel._ It is a phrase will part with the same ease From you, with that you now deliver.

_Thier._ Bind not his ears up with so dull a charm Who hath no other sense left open, why should thy words Find more restraint than thy free speaking actions, Thy close embraces, and thy midnight sighs The silent Orators to slow desire?

_Ordel._ Strive not to win content from ignorance Which must be lost in knowledge: heaven can witness My farthest hope of good, reacht at your pleasure, Which seeing alone, may in your look be read: Add not a doubtful comment to a text That in it self is direct and easie.

_Thier._ Oh thou hast drunk the juyce of hemlock too, Or did upbraided nature make this pair To shew she had not quite forgot her first Justly prais'd Workmanship, the first chast couple Before the want of joy, taught guilty sight A way through shame and sorrow to delight: Say, may we mix, as in their innocence When Turtles kist, to confirm happiness, Not to beget it.

_Ordel._ I know no bar.

_Thier._ Should I believe thee, yet thy pulse beats, woman, And says the name of Wife did promise thee The blest reward of duty to thy mother, Who gave so often witness of her joy, When she did boast thy likeness to her Husband.

_Ordel._ 'Tis true, that to bring forth a second to your self, Was only worthy of my Virgin loss; And should I prize you less, unpattern'd Sir? Then being exemplify'd, is't not more honor To be possessor of unequall'd virtue, Than what is paralell'd? give me belief, The name of mother knows no way of good, More than the end in me: who weds for Lust Is oft a widow: when I married you, I lost the name of Maid to gain a Title Above the wish of change, which that part can Only maintain, is still the same in man, His virtue and his calm society, Which no gray hairs can threaten to dissolve Nor wrinkles bury.

_Thier._ Confine thy self to silence, lest thou take That part of reason from me, is only left To give perswasion to me, I'm a man: Or say thou hast never seen the Rivers haste With gladsome speed, to meet th' amorous sea.

_Ordel._ We are but to praise the coolness of their streams.

_Thier._ Nor view'd the Kids, taught by their lustful [s]ires, Pursue each other through the wanton lawns, And lik'd the sport.

_Ordel._ As it made way unto their envied rest With weary knots, binding their harmless eyes.

_Thier._ Nor do you know the reason why the Dove, One of the pair, your hands wont hourly feed, So often clipt and kist her happy mate.

_Ordel._ Unless it were to welcome his wish'd sight, Whose absence only gave her mourning voice.

_Thier._ And you could, Dove-like to a single object, Bind your loose spirits to one, nay, such a one Whom only eyes and ears must flatter good, Your surer sence made useless, my self, nay As in my all of good, already known.

_Ordel._ Let proof plead for me; let me be mew'd up Where never eye may reach me, but your own; And when I shall repent, but in my looks, if sigh.

_Thier._ Or shed a tear that's warm.

_Ordel._ But in your sadness.

_Thier._ Or when you hear the birds call for their mates, Ask if it be _St. Valentine_, their coupling day.

_Ordel._ If any thing may make a thought suspected Of knowing any happiness but you, Divorce me, by the Title of Most Falshood.

_Thier._ Oh, who would know a wife, that might have such a friend? Posterity henceforth, lose the name of blessing And leave the earth inhabited to people heaven.

_Enter_ Theodoret, Brunhalt, Martel, Protaldye.

_Mart._ All happiness to _Thierry_ and _Ordella_.

_Thier._ 'Tis a desire but borrowed from me, my happiness Shall be the period of all good mens wishes, Which friends, nay dying Fathers shall bequeath, And in my one give all: is there a duty Belongs to any power of mine, or love To any virtue I have right to? here, place it here, _Ordella's_ name shall only bear command, Rule, Title, Sovereignty.

_Brun._ What passion sways my Son?

_Thier._ Oh Mother, she has doubled every good The travel of your bloud made possible To my glad being.

_Prot._ He should have done Little to her, he is so light hearted.

_Thier._ Brother, friends, if honor unto shame If wealth to want inlarge the present sense, My joyes are unbounded, instead of question Let it be envy, not bring a present To the high offering of our mirth, Banquets, and Masques; Keep waking our delights, mocking nights malice, Whose dark brow would fright pleasure from us, Our Court be but one st[a]ge of Revels, and each [e]ye The Scene where our content moves.

_Theod._ There shall want Nothing to express our shares in your delight, Sir.

_Mart._ Till now I ne'er repented the estate Of Widower.

_Thier._ Musick, why art thou so slow voic'd? it staies thy presence My _Ordella_, this chamber is a sphere Too narrow for thy all-moving virtue. Make way, free way I say; Who must alone, her Sexes want supply, Had need to have a room both large and high.

_Mart._ This passion's above utterance.

_Theod._ Nay, credulity. [_Exit all but_ Thierry, Brunhalt.

_Brun._ Why Son what mean you, are you a man?

_Thier._ No Mother I am no man, were I a man, How could I be thus happy?

_Brun._ How can a wife be author of this joy then?

_Thier._ That being no man, I am married to no woman; The best of men in full ability, Can only hope to satisfie a wife, And for that hope ridiculous, I in my want And such defective poverty, that to her bed From my first Cradle brought no strength but thought, Have met a temperance beyond hers that rockt me, Necessity being her bar; where this Is so much sensless of my depriv'd fire; She knows it not a loss by her desire.

_Brun._ It is beyond my admiration.

_Thier._ Beyond your sexes faith, The unripe Virgins of our age, to hear't Will dream themselves to women, and convert Th' example to a miracle.

_Brun._ Alas, 'tis your defect moves my amazement, But what [i]ll can be separate from ambition? Cruel _Theodoret_.

_Thier._ What, of my brother?

_Brun._ That to his name your barrenness adds rule; Who loving the effect, would not be strange In favouring the cause; look on the profit, And gain will quickly point the mischief out.

_Thier._ The name of Father, to what I possess Is shame and care.

_Brun._ Were we begot to single happiness I grant you; but from such a wife, such virtue To get an heir, what hermet would not find Deserving argument to break his vow Even in his age of chastity?

_Thier._ You teach a deaf man language.

_Brun._ The cause found out, the malady may cease, Have you heard of one _Forts_?

_Thier._ A learned Astronomer, great Magician, Who lives hard by retir'd.

_Brun._ Repair to him, with the just hour and place Of your nativity; fools are amaz'd at fate, Griefs but conceal'd are never desperate.

_Thier._ You have timely waken'd me, nor shall I sleep Without the satisfaction of his Art. [_Exit_ Thierry.

_Enter_ Lecure.

_Brun._ Wisdom prepares you to't, _Lecure_, met happily.

_Lecure._ The ground answers your purpose, the conve[iance] Being secure and easie, falling just Behind the state set for _Theodoret_.

_Brun._ 'Tis well, your trust invites you to a second charge, You know _Leforte's_ Cell.

_Lecure._ Who constellated your fair birth.

_Brun._ Enough, I see thou know'st him, where's _Bawdber_?

_Lec._ I left him careful of the project cast, To raise _Protaldie's_ credit.

_Brun._ A sore that must be plaister'd, in whose wound Others shall find their graves, think themselves sound, Your ear, and quickest apprehension. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Bawdber _and a servant_.

_Bawdb._ This man of war will advance.

_Lecu._ His hour's upon the stroke.

_Bawdb._ Wind him back, as you favour my ears, I [lo]ve no noise in my head, my brains have hitherto Been imploy'd in silent businesses.

_Enter_ Devitry.

_Lecu._ The Gentleman is within your reach Sir. [_Exit._

_Bawdb._ Give ground, whilst I drill my wits to the encounter, _Devitry_, I take it.

_Devi._ All's that left of him.

_Bawdb._ Is there another parcel of you, if it be at pawn I will gladly redeem it, to make you wholly mine.

_Vitry._ You seek too hard a pennyworth.

_Bawdb._ You too ill to keep such distance; your parts have been long known To me, howsoever you please to forget acquaintance.

_Vit._ I must confess I have been subject to lewd company.

_Bawdb._ Thanks for your good remembrance, You have been a soldier _Devitry_ and born[e] Arms.

_Vit._ A couple of unprofitable ones, that have only serv'd to get me a stomach to my dinner.

_Bawdb._ Much good may it do you, Sir.

_Vitry._ You sh[ould] have heard me say I had din'd first, I have built on an unwholsome ground, rais'd up a house, before I knew a Tenant, matcht to meet weariness, sought to find want and hunger.

_Bawdb._ It is time you put up your sword, and run away for meat, Sir, nay, if I had not withdrawn e'r now, I might have kept thee; fast with you: but since the way to thrive is never late, what is the nearest course to profit think you?

_Vitry._ It may be your worship will say bawdry.

_Bawdb._ True sense, bawdry.

_Vitry._ Why, is the[re] five kinds of them, I never knew but one.

_Bawdb._ I'll shew you a new way of prostitution, fall back, further yet, further, there is fifty crowns, do but as much to _Protaldye_ the Queens favorite, they are doubled.

_Vitry._ But thus much.

_Bawdb._ Give him but an affront as he comes to the presence, and in his drawing make way, like a true bawd to his valour, the s[um]'s thy own; if you take a scratch in the arm or so, every drop of bloud weighs down a ducket.

_Vitry._ After that rate, I and my friends would begger the kingdom. Sir, you have made me blush to see my want, whose cure is such a cheap and easie purchase, this is Male-bawdry belike.

_Enter_ Protaldy, _a Lady, and Revellers_.

_Bawdb._ See, you shall not be long earning your wages, your work's before your eyes.

_Vitry._ Leave it to my handling, I'll fall upon't instantly.

_Bawdb._ What opinion will the managing of this affair

Bring to my wisdom? my invention tickles With apprehension on't:

_Pro._ These are the joyes of marriage, Lady, Whose sights are able to dissolve Virginity. Speak freely, do you not envy the Brides felicity?

_Lady._ How should I, being partner of't?

_Pro._ What you enjoy is but the Banquets view, The taste stands from your pallat; if he impart By day so much of his content, think what night gave?

_Vitry._ Will you have a relish of wit, Lady?

_Bawdb._ This is the man.

_Lady._ If it be not dear, Sir.

_Vitry._ If you affect cheapness, how can you prize this sullied ware so much? mine is fresh, my own, not retail'd.

_Pro._ You are saucy, sirrah.

_Vitry._ The fitter to be in the dish with such dry Stock-fish as you are, how, strike?

_Bawdb._ Remember the condition as you look for payment.

_Vitry._ That box was left out of the bargain.

_Pro._ Help, help, help.

_Bawdb._ Plague of the Scriveners running hand, What a blow is this to my reputation!

_Enter_ Thierry, Theodoret, Brunhalt, Ordella, Memberge, Martell.

_Thier._ What villain dares this outrage?

_Devitry._ Hear me, Sir, this creature hir'd me with fifty crowns in hand, to let _Protaldye_ have the better of me at single Rapier on a made quarrel; he mistaking the weapon, laies me over the chops with his club fist, for which I was bold to teach him the Art of memory.

_Omnes._ Ha, ha, ha, ha.

_Theo._ Your General, Mother, will display himself. 'Spight of our Peace I see.

_Thier._ Forbear these civil jars, fie _Protaldy_, So open in your projects, avoid our presence, sirrah.

_Devi._ Willingly; if you have any more wages to earn, You see I can take pains.

_Theo._ There's somewhat for thy labour, More than was promis'd, ha, ha, ha.

_Bawdb._ Where could I wish my self now? in the _Isle of Dogs_. So I might scape scratching, for I see by her Cats eyes I shall be claw'd fearfully.

_Thier._ We'll hear no more on't, [_Soft Musick._ Musick drown all sadness; Command the Revellers in, at what a rate I do purchase My Mothers absence, to give my spleen full liberty.

_Brun._ Speak not a thoughts delay, it names thy ruin.

_Pro._ I had thought my life had born[e] more value with you.

_Brun._ Thy loss carries mine with't, let that secure thee. The vault is ready, and the door conveys to't Falls just behind his chair, the blow once given, Thou art unseen.

_Pro._ I cannot feel more than I fear, I'm sure. [_Withdraws._

_Brun._ Be gone, and let them laugh their own destruction.

_Thier._ You will add unto her rage.

_Theod._ 'Foot, I shall burst, unless I vent my self, ha, ha, ha.

_Brun._ Me Sir, you never could Have found a time to invite more willingness In my dispose to pleasure.

_Memb._ Would you would please to make some other choise.

_Revel._ 'Tis a disgrace would dwell upon me, Lady, Should you refuse.

_Memb._ Your reason conquers; my Grandmothers looks Have turn'd all air to earth in me, they sit Upon my heart like night-charms, black and heavy.

[_They Dance._

_Thier._ You are too much libertine.

_Theod._ The fortune of the fool perswades my laughter More than his cowardize; was ever Rat Ta'en by the tail thus? ha, ha, ha.

_Thier._ Forbear I say.

_Prot._ No eye looks this way, I will wink and strike, Lest I betray my self. [_Behind the State stabs_ Theodoret.

_Theo._ Ha, did you not see one near me?

_Thier._ How near you, why do you look so pale, brother? Treason, treason.

_Memb._ Oh my presage! Father.

_Ordella._ Brother.

_Mart._ Prince, Noble Prince.

_Thier._ Make the gates sure, search into every angle And corner of the Court, oh my shame! Mother, Your Son is slain, _Theodoret_, noble _Theodoret_, Here in my arms, too weak a Sanctuary 'Gainst treachery and murder, say, is the Traitor taken?

_1 Guard._ No man hath past the chamber on my life Sir.

_Thier._ Set present fire unto the place, that all unseen May perish in this mischief, who moves slow to't, Shall add unto the flame.

_Brun._ What mean you? give me your private hearing.

_Thier._ Perswasion is a partner in the crime, I will renounce my claim unto a mother, If you make offer on't.

_Brun._ E'er a Torch can take flame, I will produce The author of the fact.

_Thier._ Withdraw but for your Lights.

_Memb._ Oh my too true suspition.

[_Exeunt_ Martel, Memberg.

_Thier._ Speak, where's the Engine to this horrid act?

_Brun._ Here you do behold her; upon whom make good Your causeless rage; the deed was done by my incitement, Not yet repented.

_Thier._ Wh[i]ther did nature start, when you conceiv'd? A birth so unlike woman? say, what part Did not consent to make a son of him, Reserv'd it self within you to his ruine.

_Brun._ Ha, ha, a son of mine! doe not dissever Thy fathers dust, shaking his quiet urn, To which [thy] breath would send so foul an issue. My Son, thy Brother?

_Thier._ Was not _Theodoret_ my brother, or is thy tongue Confederate with thy heart, to speak and do Only things monstrous?

_Brun._ Hear me and thou shalt make thine own belief, Thy, still with sorrow mention'd, father liv'd Three careful years, in hope of wished heirs, When I conceiv'd, being from his jealous fear Injoyn'd to quiet home, one fatal day: Transported with my pleasure to the chase, I forc'd command, and in pursuit of game Fell from my horse, lost both my child and hopes. Despair which only in his love saw life Worthy of being, from a Gard'ners Arms Snatcht this unlucky brat, and call'd it mine, When the next year repaid my loss with thee: But in thy wrongs preserv'd my misery, Which that I might diminish, though not end, My sighs, and wet eies from thy Fathers Will, Bequeath this largest part of his Dominions Of _France_ unto thee, and only left _Austracia_ unto that changling, whose life affords Too much of ill 'gainst me to prove my words, And call him stranger.

_Thier._ Come, doe not weep, I must, nay do believe you. And in my fathers satisfaction count it Merit, not wrong, or loss:

_Brun._ You doe but flatter, there's anger yet flames In your eyes.

_Thier._ See, I will quench it, and confess that you Have suffer'd double travel for me.

_Brun._ You will not fire the house then?

_Thier._ Rather reward the author who gave cause Of knowing such a secret, my oath and duty Shall be assurance on't.

_Brun. Protaldye_, rise good faithful servant, heaven knows How hardly he was drawn to this attempt.

_Enter_ Protaldye.

_Thier. Protaldye?_ he had a Gard'ners fa[t]e I'll swear: [F]ell by thy hand, Sir, we doe owe unto you for this service.

_Brun._ Why lookest thou so dejected?

_Enter_ Martel.

_Prot._ I want a little shift, Lady, nothing else.

_Mart._ The fires are ready, please it your grace withdraw, Whilst we perform your pleasure.

_Thier._ Reserve them for the body; since he had the fate To live and die a Prince, he shall not lose The Title in his Funeral. [_Exit._

_Mart._ His fate to live a Prince, Thou old impiety, made up by lust and mischief, Take up the body. [_Exeunt with the body of_ Theod.

_Enter_ Lecure _and a Servant_.

_Lecu._ Dost think _Leforte's_ sure enough?

_Serv._ As bonds can make him, I have turn'd his eyes to the East; and left him gaping after the Morning star, his head is a meer Astrolobe, his eyes stand for the Poles, the gag in his mouth being the Coachman, his five teeth have the nearest resemblance to _Charles Wain._

_Lecure._ Thou hast cast a figure which shall raise thee, direct my hair a little: and in my likeness to him, read a fortune suiting thy largest hopes.

_Ser._ You are so far 'bove likeness, you are the same, If you love mirth, perswade him from himself. 'Tis but an Astronomer out of the way, And lying, will bear the better place for't.

_Lecure._ I have profitabler use in hand, haste to the Queen And tell her how you left me chang'd. [_Exit Servant._ Who would not serve this virtuous active Queen? She that loves mischief 'bove the man that does it, And him above her pleasure, yet knows no heaven else.

_Enter_ Thierry.

_Thier._ How well this loan[es] suits the Art I seek, Discovering secret, and succeeding Fate, Knowledge that puts all lower happiness on, With a remiss and careless hand, Fair peace unto your meditations, father.

_Lecure._ The same to you, you bring, Sir.

_Thier._ Drawn by your much fam'd skill, I come to know Whether the man who owes [t]his character, Shall e'er have issue.

_Lecure._ A resolution falling with most ease, Of any doubt you could have nam'd, he is a Prince Whose fortune you enquire.

_Thie._ He is nobly born.

_Lecure._ He had a Dukedom lately fall'n unto him, By one, call'd Brother, who has left a Daughter.

_Thier._ The question is, of Heirs, not Lands.

_Lecure._ Heirs, yes, he shall have Heirs.

_Thier._ Begotten of his body, why look'st thou pale? Thou canst not suffer in his want.

_Lecure._ Nor thou, I neither can nor will Give farther knowledge to thee.