SCENE II.

_A Gallery in the Duke’s House._

_Enter_ ALMACHILDES.

ALM. What a mad toy[528] took me to sup with witches! Fie of all drunken humours! by this hand, I could beat myself when I think on’t: and the rascals Made me good cheer too; and to my understanding then Eat some of every dish, and spoil’d the rest: But coming to my lodging, I remember I was as hungry as a tirèd foot-post. What’s this? [_Takes from his pocket a ribbon._

O, ’tis the charm her hagship gave me For my duchess’ obstinate woman; round about A threepenny silk ribbon of three colours, _Necte tribus nodis ternos Amoretta colores_; Amoretta! why, there’s her name indeed: _Necte Amoretta_; again, two boughts,[529] _Nodo et Veneris dic vincula necte_; Nay, if Veneris be one, I’m sure there’s no dead flesh in’t. If I should undertake to construe this now, I should make a fine piece of work of it, For few young gallants are given to good construction Of any thing, hardly of their best friends’ wives, Sisters, or nieces. Let me see what I can do now. _Necte tribus nodis_,—Nick of the tribe of noddies; _Ternos colores_,—that makes turned colours; _Nodo et Veneris_,—goes to his venery like a noddy; _Dic vincula_,—with Dick the vintner’s boy.

Here were a sweet[530] charm now, if this were the meaning on’t, and very likely to overcome an honourable gentlewoman. The whorson old hellcat would have given me the brain of a cat once in my handkercher; I bade her make sauce with’t, with a vengeance! and a little bone in the hithermost part of a wolf’s tail; I bade her pick her teeth with’t, with a pestilence! Nay, this is somewhat cleanly yet and handsome; a coloured ribbon, a fine, gentle charm! a man may give’t his sister, his brother’s wife, ordinarily. See, here she comes, luckily.

_Enter_ AMORETTA.

AMO. Blest powers, what secret sin have I committed That still you send this punishment upon me? ALM. ’Tis but a gentle punishment; so take it. AMO. Why, sir, what mean you? will you ravish me? ALM. What, in the gallery, and the sun peep in? There’s fitter time and place.— [_As he embraces her, he thrusts the ribbon into her bosom._

’Tis in her bosom now. [_Aside._ AMO. Go, you’re the rudest thing e’er came at court! ALM. Well, well; I hope you’ll tell me another tale Ere you be two hours older: a rude thing? I’ll make you eat your word; I’ll make all split[531] else. [_Exit._ AMO. Nay, now I think on’t better, I’m to blame too: There’s not a sweeter gentleman in court; Nobly descended too, and dances well. Beshrew my heart, I’ll take him when there’s time; He will be catch’d up quickly. The duchess says Sh’as some employment for him, and has sworn me To use my best art in’t: life of my joys, There were good stuff! I will not trust her with him. I’ll call him back again; he must not keep Out of my sight so long; I shall grow mad then.

_Enter Duchess._

DUCH. He lives not now to see to-morrow spent, If this means take effect, as there’s no hardness in’t. Last night he play’d his horrid game again, Came to my bed-side at the full of midnight, And in his hand that fatal, fearful cup; Wak’d me, and forc’d me pledge him, to my trembling And my dead father’s scorn: that wounds my sight, That his remembrance should be rais’d in spite: But either his confusion or mine ends it.— [_Aside._ O, Amoretta,—hast thou met him yet? Speak, wench, hast done that for me? AMO. What, good madam? DUCH. Destruction of my hopes! dost ask that now? Didst thou not swear to me, out of thy hate To Almachildes, thou’dst dissemble him A loving entertainment, and a meeting Where I should work my will? AMO. Good madam, pardon me: A loving entertainment I do protest Myself to give him, with all speed I can too; But, as I’m yet a maid, a perfect one As the old time was wont to afford, when There were[532] few tricks and little cunning stirring, I can dissemble none that will serve your turn; He must have even a right one and a plain one. DUCH. Thou mak’st me doubt thy health; speak, art thou well? AMO. O, never better! if he would make haste And come back quickly! he stays now too long. [_The ribbon falls out of her bosom._ DUCH. I’m quite lost in this woman: what’s that fell Out of her bosom now? some love-token? AMO. Nay, I’ll say that for him, he’s the uncivil’st gentleman, And every way desertless. DUCH. Who’s that now She discommends so fast? AMO. I could not love him, madam, Of any man in court. DUCH. What’s he now, prithee? AMO. Who should it be but Almachildes, madam? I never hated man so deeply yet. DUCH. As Almachildes? AMO. I am sick, good madam, When I but hear him nam’d. DUCH. How is this possible? But now thou saidst thou lov’dst him, and didst raise him 'Bove all the court in praises. AMO. How great people May speak their pleasure, madam! but surely I Should think the worse of my tongue while I liv’d then. DUCH. No longer have I patience to forbear thee, Thou that retain’st an envious soul to goodness! He is a gentleman deserves as much As ever fortune yet bestow’d on man; The glory and prime lustre of our court; Nor can there any but ourself be worthy of him: And take you notice of that now from me, Say you have warning on’t, if you did love him, You must not now. AMO. Let your grace never fear it. DUCH. Thy name is Amoretta, as ours is; 'Thas made me love and trust thee. AMO. And my faithfulness Has appear’d well i’ th’ proof still; has’t not, madam? DUCH. But if’t fail now, ’tis nothing. AMO. Then it shall not. I know he will not be long from fluttering 'Bout this place, now has had a sight of me; And I’ll perform In all that I vow’d, madam, faithfully. DUCH. Then am I blest both in revenge and love, And thou shalt taste the sweetness. [_Exit._ AMO. What your aims be I list not to inquire; all I desire Is to preserve a competent honesty, Both for mine own and his use that shall have me,

_Re-enter_ ALMACHILDES.

Whose luck soe’er it be. O, he’s return’d already; I knew he would not fail. ALM. It works by this time, Or the devil’s in’t, I think; I’ll ne’er trust witch else, Nor sup with 'em this twelvemonth. [_Aside._ AMO. I must soothe him now; And ’tis great pain to do’t against one’s stomach. [_Aside._ ALM. Now, Amoretta! AMO. Now you’re welcome, sir, If you’d come always thus. ALM. O, am I so? Is the case alter’d since? AMO. If you’d be ru[l']d, And know your times,'twere somewhat; a great comfort. 'Las, I could be as loving and as venturous As any woman—we’re all flesh and blood, man— If you could play the game out modestly, And not betray your hand. I must have care, sir; You know I have a marriage-time to come, And that’s for life: your best folks will be merry, But look to the main chance, that’s reputation, And then do what they list. ALM. Wilt hear my oath? By the sweet health of youth, I will be careful, And never prate on’t, nor, like a cunning snarer, Make thy clipp’d[533] name the bird to call in others. AMO. Well, yielding then to such conditions As my poor bashfulness shall require from you, I shall yield shortly after. ALM. I’ll consent to 'em; And may thy sweet humility be a pattern For all proud women living! AMO. They’re beholding[534] to you. [_Exeunt._