(SCENE 3.)

Enter Clowne, Constable and three watchmen.

Clown. You[146] that are borne Pagans both by father and mother, the true sonnes of Infidelity, sit downe by me your officiall, or to come nearer to the efficacy of the word, your undermost Iaylor or staller; —the word is Lordly and significant.

Omnes. O brave Master, yfaith.

Clowne. Therefore sit downe; and as by vertue of our place we have Authority given, so let us as officers doe, knaves of our function as of others; let us, I say, be unbounded in our Authority, having the Lawes, I meane the Keyes, in our owne hands.

Const. Friend, friend, you are too forward in your Authority; your command is limited where I am in place: for though you are the Lieutenants man know, sir, that I am Master of the worke and Constable Royall under the Kings Maiesty.

Omnes. Marry is hee.

Const. If their testimonie will not satisfie, here my Title: At this place, in this time, and upon this occasion I am Prince over these Publicans, Lord over these Larroones,[147] Regent of these Rugs,[148] Viceroy over these Vagabonds, King of these Caterpillars; and indeed, being a Constable, directly Soveraigne over these my Subiects.

2 Off. If all these stiles, so hard to climbe over, belong to the office of a Constable, what kin is he to the Divell?

Const. Why to the Devill, my friend?

Clown. Ile tell you: because a Constable is King of Nights and the other is Prince of Darknesse.

Const. Darke as it is, by the twilight of my Lanthorne methinks I see a company of Woodcocks.

2 Off. How can you discerne them?

Enter Epidophorus, Victoria and Bellina.

Clown. Oh excellent well, by their bills: see, see, here comes the Lieutenant.

Epi. Well sayd, my friends: you keep good watch, I see.

Clown. Yes, Sir, we Officers have breath as strong as Garlick: no Christian by their good wills dare come neare us.

Epi. 'Tis well, forbeare.— Oh, Madam, had you scene with what a vehemency He did blaspheme the gods, Like to a man pearcht on some lofty Spire Amazed which way to relieve himselfe, You would have stood, as did the King, amaz'd.

Vict. God grant him liberty, And with that give us privacy; I doubt not But our sweet conference shall work much on him.

Epi. Iove grant it: Ile leave the roome. [Exit Epi.

Clown. A Iaylor seldome lookes for a bribe but hee's prevented.

[Exeunt Officers.

Enter Bellizarius in his night-gown, with Epidophorus.

Epi. My Lord, your Lady and her most beauteous daughter Are come to visit you, and here attend.

Belliz. My Wife and Daughter? oh welcome, love, And blessing Crowne thee, my beloved Bellina.

Vict. My Lord, pray leave us.

Epi. Your will be your owne Law. [Exit Epidoph.

Vict. Why study you, my Lord? why is your eye fixt On your Bellina more than on me?

Belliz. Good, excellent good: What pretty showes our fancies represent us! My faire Bellina shines like to an Angel; Has such a brightnesse in her Christall eyes That even the radiancy duls my sight. See, my Victoria, lookes she not sweetly?

Vict. Shee does, my Lord; but not much better than she was wont.

Belliz. Oh shee but beginnes to shine as yet, But will I hope ere long be stellified. Alas, my Victoria, thou look'st nothing like her.

Vict. Not like her? why, my Lord?

Belliz. Marke and Ile tell thee how: Thou art too much o'er growne with sinne and shame, Hast pray'd too much, offered too much devotion To him and those that can nor helpe nor hurt, Which my Bellina has not: Her yeares in sinne are not, as thine are, old; Therefore me thinks she's fairer farre than thou.

Vict. I, my Lord, guided by you and by your precepts, Have often cal'd on Iupiter.

Belliz. I, there's the poynt: My sinnes like Pullies still drew me downewards: 'Twas I that taught thee first to Idolize, And unlesse that I can with-draw thy mind From following that I did with tears intreat, I'me lost, for ever lost, lost in my selfe and thee. Oh, my Bellina!

Bellina. Why, Sir! Shall we not call on Iove that gives us food, By whom we see the heavens have all their Motions?

Belliz. Shee's almost lost too: alas! my Girle, There is a higher Iove that rules 'bove him. Sit, my Victoria, sit, my faire Bellina, And with attention hearken to my dreame: Methought one evening, sitting on a fragrant Virge, Close by there ranne a silver gliding streame: I past the Rivolet and came to a Garden, A Paradise, I should say (for lesse it could not be); Such sweetnesse the world contains not as I saw; Indian Aramaticks nor Arabian Gummes Were nothing sented unto this sweet bower. I gaz'd about, and there me thought I saw Conquerors and Captives, Kings and meane men; I saw no inequality in their places. Casting mine eye on the other side the Palace, Thousands I saw my selfe had sent to death; At which I sigh'd and sob'd, I griev'd and groan'd. Ingirt with Angels were those glorious Martyrs Whom this ungentle hand untimely ended, And beckon'd to me as if heaven had said, "Beleeve as they and be thou one of them"; At which my heart leapt, for there me thought I saw, As I suppos'd, you two like to the rest: With that I wak'd and resolutely vow'd To prosecute what I in thought had seene.

Bellina. 'Twas a sweet dreame; good Sir, make use of it.

Vict. And I with Bellizarius am resolv'd To undergoe the worst of all afflictions, Where such a glory bids us to performe.

Belliz. Now blessings crowne yee both The first stout Martyr has[149] his glorious end Though stony-hard yet speedy; when ours comes I shall tryumph in our affliction. This adds some comfort to my troubled soule: I, that so many have depriv'd of breath, Shall winne two soules to accompany me in death.

[Exeunt.

Actus Tertius.

Enter Clowne and Huntsmen severally.

1 Hunt. Ho, rise, sluggards! so, so, ho! so, ho!

2 Hunt. So ho, ho! we come.

Clown. Morrow, iolly wood-men.

Omnes. Morrow, morrow.

Clown. Oh here's a Morning like a grey ey'd Wench, able to intice a man to leap out of his bed if he love hunting, had he as many cornes on his toes as there are Cuckolds in the City.

1 Hunt. And that's enough in conscience to keepe men from going, were his Boots as wide as the black Iacks[150] or Bombards tost by the Kings Guard.

2 Hunt. Are the swift Horses ready?

Clown. Yes, and better fed than taught; for one of 'em had like to have kickt my iigumbobs as I came by him.

2 Hunt. Where are the Dogges?

Clown. All coupled, as Theeves going to a Sessions, and are to be hang'd if they be found faulty.

2 Hunt. What Dogges are they?

Clown. A packe of the bravest Spartan Dogges in the world; if they do but once open and spend[151] there gabble, gabble, gabble it will make the Forest ecchoe as if a Ring of Bells were in it; admirably flewd[152], by their eares you would take 'em to be singing boyes; and for Dewlaps they are as bigge as Vintners bags in which they straine Ipocras.

Omnes. There, boy.

Clown. And hunt so close and so round together that you may cover 'em all with a sheete.

2 Hunt. If it be wide enough.

Clown. Why, as wide as some four or five Acres, that's all.

1 Hunt. And what's the game to day?

Clown. The wilde Boare.

1 Hunt. Which of 'em? the greatest? I have not seene him.

Clown. Not seene him? he is as big as an Elephant.

2 Hunt. Now will he build a whole Castle full of lies.

Clown. Not seen him? I have.

Omnes. No, no; seene him? as big as an Elephant?

Clown. The backe of him is as broad—let me see—as a pretty Lighter.

1 Hun. A Lighter?

Clown. Yes; and what do you think the Brissells are worth?

2 Hunt. Nothing.

Clown. Nothing? one Shoemaker offer'd to finde me and the Heire-male of my body 22 yeeres, but to have them for his owne ends.

2 Hunt. He would put Sparabiles[153] into the soales then?

Clown. Not a Bill, not a Sparrow. The Boares head is so huge that a Vintner but drawing that picture and hanging it up for a Signe it fell down and broke him.

1 Hunt. Oh horrible!

Clown. He has two stones so bigge, let me see (a Poxe), thy head is but a Cherry-stone to the least of' em.

2 Hunt. How long are his Tuskes?

Clown. Each of them as crooked and as long as a Mowers sith.

1 Hunt. There's a Cutter.

Clown. And when he whets his Tuskes you would sweare there were a sea in's belly, and that his chops were the shore to which the Foame was beaten: if his Foame were frothy Yest 'twere worth tenne groats a paile for Bakers.

1 Hunt. What will the King do with him if he kill him?

Clown. Bake him, and if they put him in one Pasty a new Oven must be made, with a mouth as wide as the gates of the City. (Horne.)

Omnes. There boy, there boy.

Hornes and Noise within: Enter Antony meeting Damianus.

Ant. Cosmo had like beene kild; the Boare receiving[154] A Speare full in the Flanke from Cosmo's hand, Foaming with rage he ranne at him, unhorst him And had, but that he fell behinde an Oake Of admirable greatnesse, torne out his bowels; His very Tuskes, striking into the tree, Made the old Champion[155] shake.

[Enter Cosmo.

Dam. Where are the Dogges?

Cosmo. No matter for the Curres: I scapt well, but cannot finde the King.

Anton. When did you see him?

Cosmo. Not since the Boare tos'd up Both horse and rider.

Enter Epidophorus and all the Huntsmen in a hurry.

Epi. A Liter for the King; the King is hurt.

Ant. How?

Epi. No man knowes: some say stung by an Adder As from his horse he fell; some cry, by the Boare.

Anton. The Boare never came neare him.

Dam. The King's Physitians!

Cosmo. Runne for the King's Physitians.

Epi. Conduct us to him.

Anton. A fatall hunting when a King doth fall: All earthly pleasures are thus washt in gall.

[Exeunt.