The Honest Man's Fortune. A TRAGI-COMEDY.

Ami. If your cause be just, I wish you a conclusion like your cause. Orl. I can have any common charity to such a Prayer From a friend I would expect a love to prosper in; Without exceptions such a love as might Make all my undertakings thankful to't; Precisely just is seldom faithful in our wishes To another mans desires: Farewel. [Exit Orl.

Dub. Here comes your adversarie's brother-in-law. Long. The Lord of Amiens. Dub. From the Hall I think. Ami. I did so: save your Lordship. Mount. That's a wish my Lord, as courteous to my present state, As ever honest mind was thankful for; For now my safety must expose it self To question: yet to look for any free Or hearty salutation (Sir) from you Would be unreasonable in me. Ami. Why? Mont. Your Sister is my adversarie's wife; That nearness needs must consequently draw Your inclination to him. Ami. I will grant Him all the nearness his alliance claims, And yet be nothing less impartial, My Lord of Montague. Mont. Lord of Montague yet: But (Sir) how long the dignity or state Belonging to it will continue, stands Upon [t]he dangerous passage of this hour. Either for evermore to be confirm'd, Or like the time wherein 'twas pleaded, gone: Gone with it, never to be call'd again. Ami. Justice direct your process to the end; To both your persons my respect shall still Be equal; but the righteous cause is that Which bears my wishes to the side it holds, Where, ever may it prosper. [Exit Amiens. Mont. Then my thanks Are proper to you, if a man may raise A confidence upon a lawful ground I have no reason to be once perplex'd With any doubtful motion, Longue[v]ille, That Lord of Amiens, (didst observe him?) has A worthy nature in him. Long. Either 'tis his nature or his cunning. Mont. That's the vizard of most mens actions, Whose dissembled lives Do carry only the similitude Of goodness on 'em: but for him Honest [b]ehaviour makes a true report, What disposition does inhabit him, Essential virtue. Long. Then 'tis pity that Injurious Orleans is his brother. Dub. He is but his brother-in-law. Long. Law? that's as bad. Dub. How is your Law as bad? I rather wish The hangman thy Executor than that Equivocation should be ominous.

Long. Some of your Lawyers— 1 Law. What is ominous? 2 Law. Let no distrust trouble your Lordships thought. 1 Law. The evidences of your question'd Land Ha' not so much as any literal Advantage in 'em to be made against Your Title. 2 Law. And your Council understands The business fully. 1 Law. Th'are industrious, just. 2 Law. And very confident. 1 Law. Your state endures A voluntary trial; like a man Whose honors are maliciously accus'd. 2 Law. The accusation serves to clear his cause. 1 Law. And to approve his truth more. 2 Law. So shall all Your adversarie's pleadings strengthen your Possession. 1 Law. And be set upon record To witness the hereditary right Of you and yours. 2 Law. Courage, you have the law. Long. And you the profits. Mont. If discouragement Could work upon me, your assurances Would put me strongly into heart again; But I was never fearful: and let fate Deceive my expectation, yet I am Prepared against dejection. 1 Cre. So are we. 2 Cre. We have received a comfortable hope That all will speed well. Long. What is he Duboys? Dub. A Creditor. Long. I thought so, for he speaks As if he were a partner in his state. Mont. Sir, I am largely indebted to your loves. Long. More to their purses. M[o]nt. Which you shall not lose. 1 Cred. Your Lordship. Dub. That's another creditor. 1 Cred. Has interest in me. Long. You have more of him. 1 Cred. And I have had so many promises From these, and all your learned Counsellors; How certainly your cause will prosper: that— Long. You brought no Serjeants with you? Dub. To attend his ill success. Mont. Good Sir, I will not be Unthankful either to their industries Or your affections. 1 Law. All your Land (my Lord) Is at the barr now, give me but ten Crowns I'll save you harmless. Long. Take him at his word; If he does lose, you're sav'd by miracle, For I never knew a Lawyer yet undone. 1 Law. Then now you shall, Sir, if this prospers not. Long. Sir, I beseech you do not force your voice To such a loudness, but be thrifty now; Preserve it till you come to plead at bar It will be much more profitable in The satisfaction than the promise. 1 Law. Is not this a satisfaction to engage My self for this assurance, if he— Mont. No Sir, my ruin never shall import Anothers loss, if not by accident, And that my purpose is not guilty of: You [are] engag'd in nothing but your care. [Ex. Law. Attend the Procurator to the Court, Observe how things incline, and bring me word. Long. I dare not, Sir, if I be taken there, Mine ears will be in danger. Mont. Why? hast thou Committed something that deserves thine ears? Long. No, but I fear the noise; my hearing will be Perished by the noise; 'tis as good 't want [A member, as to loose the use—] Mont. The ornament is excepted. Long. Well my Lord I'll put 'em to the hazard. [Exit Long. 1 Cred. Your desires be prosperous to you. 2 Cred. Our best Prayers wait Upon your fortune. [Exeunt Cred. Dub. For your selves, not him. Mont. Thou canst not blame 'em: I am in their debts. Ver. But had your large expence (a part whereof You owe 'em) for unprofitable Silks And Laces, been bestowed among the poor, That would have prayed the right way for you: Not upon you. Mont. For unprofitable Silks And Laces? now believe me honest boy Th'ast hit upon a reprehension that belongs Unto me. Ver. By —— my Lord, I had not so unmannerly a thought, To reprehend you. Mont. Why I love thee for't. Mine own acknowledgement confirms thy words: For once I do remember, comming from The Mercers, where my Purse had spent it self On those unprofitable toys thou speak'st of, A man half naked with his poverty Did meet me, and requested my relief: I wanted whence to give it, yet his eyes Spoke for him, those I could have satisfied With some unfruitful sorrow, (if my tears Would not have added rather to his grief, Than eas'd it) but the true compassion that I should have given I had not: this began To make me think how many such mens wants The vain superfluous cost I wore upon My outside would have clothed, and left my self A habit as becomming: to increase This new consideration there came one Clad in a garment plain and thrifty, yet As decent as these fair dear follies; made As if it were of purpose to despise The vanity of shew: his purse had still The power to do a charitable deed, And did it. Dub. Yet your inclination, Sir, Deserv'd no less to be commended, than his action. Mont. Prethee do not flatter me; He that intends well, yet deprives himself Of means, to put his good thoughts into deed, Deceives his purpose of the due reward That goodness merits: oh antiquity Thy great examples of Nobility Are out of imitation, or at least So lamely follow'd, that thou art as much Before this age in virtue, as in time. Dub. Sir, it must needs be lamely followed, when The chiefest men love to follow it Are for the most part cripples. Mont. Who are they? Dub. Soldiers, my Lord, soldiers. Mont. 'Tis true Duboys: but if the law disables me no more For Noble actions, than good purposes, I'll practice how to exercise the worth Commended to us by our ancestors; The poor neglected soldier shall command Me from a Ladies Courtship, and the form I'll study shall no more be taught me by The Taylor, but the Scholar; that expence Which hitherto has been to entertain Th' intemperate pride and pleasure of the taste Shall fill my Table more to satisfie, And less to surfeit. What an honest work it would be; when we find A Virgin in her poverty, and youth Inclining to be tempted, to imploy As much perswasion, and as much expence To keep her upright, as men use to do upon her falling. Dub. 'Tis charity that many Maids will be unthankful for, And some will rather take it for a wrong, To buy 'em out of their inheritance, The thing that they were born to.

Mont. Longueville, thou bringst a chearful promise in thy face. There stands no pale report upon thy cheek, To give me fear or knowledge of my loss, 'tis red and lively. How proceeds my suit? Long. That's with leave, Sir, a labour that to those of Hercules, May add another; or (at least) be call'd An imitation of his burning shirt: For 'twas a pain of that [un]merciful Perplexity, to shoulder through the throng Of people that attended your success: My sweaty linnen fixt upon my skin, Still as they pull'd me, took that with it; 'twas A fear I should have left my flesh among 'em: Yet I was patient, for (methought) the toil Might be an emblem of the difficult And weary passage to get out of Law. And to make up the dear similitude, When I was forth seeking my handkerchief To wipe my sweat off, I did find a cause To make me sweat more, for my Purse was lost Among their fingers. Dub. There 'twas rather found. Long. By them. Dub. I mean so. Mont. Well, I will restore Thy damage to thee: how proceeds my suit? L[o]ng. Like one at Brokers; I think forfeited. Your promising Counsel at the first Put strongly forward with a labour'd speed, And such a violence of pleading, that His Fee in Sugar-candy scarce will make His throat a satisfaction for the hurt He did it, and he carried the whole cause Before him, with so clear a passage, that The people in the favour of your side Cried Montague, Montague: in the spight of him That cryed out silence, and began to laugh Your adversaries advocate to scorn: Who like a cunning Footman set me forth With such a temperate easie kind of course To put him into exercise of strength, And follow'd his advantages so close, That when your hot mouth'd pleader thought h' had won, Before he reacht it, he was out of breath, And then the other stript him. Mont. So all is lost. Long. But how I know not; for, (methought) I stood Confounded with the clamour of the Court, Like one embark'd upon a storm at Sea, Where the tempestuous noise of Thunder mixt With roaring of the billows, and the thick, Imperfect language of the Sea-men, takes His understanding and his safety both Together from him. Mont. Thou dost bring ill news. Long. Of what I was unwilling to have been The first reporter. Mont. Didst observe no more? Long. At least no better. Mont. Then th'art not inform'd So well as I am; I can tell thee that Will please thee, for when all else left my cause, My very adversaries took my part. Long. —Whosoever told you that, abused you. Mont. Credit me, he took my part When all forsook me. Long. Took it from you. Mont. Yes I mean so, and I think he had just cause To take it, when the verdict gave it him. Dub. His Spirit would ha' sunk him, e'r he could Have carried an ill fortune of this weight so lightly. Mont. Nothing is a misery, unless our weakness apprehend it so; We cannot be more faithful to our selves In any thing that's manly, than to make Ill fortune as contemptible to us As it makes us to others.

Long. Here come they Whose very countenances will tell you how Contemptible it is to others. Mont. Sir? Long. The Sir of Knighthood may be given him, e'r They hear you now? Mont. Good Sir but a word. Dub. How soon the loss of wealth makes any man Grow out of knowledge. Long. Let me see, I pray, Sir, Never stood you upon the Pillory? 1 Law. The Pillory? Long. Oh now I know you did not. Y'ave ears, I thought ye had lost 'em; pray observe, Here's one that once was gracious in your eyes. 1 Law. Oh my Lord, have an eye upon him. Long. But ha' you ne'er a Counsel to redeem His Land yet from the judgement?

Long. Delay? indeed he's like to trust to that, With you has any dealing.

1 Law. If men will hazard their salvations, What should I say? I've other business. Mont. Y'are i'th' right; That's it you should say, now prosperity has left me.

1 Cred. Have an eye upon him; if We lose him now, he's gone for ever; stay And dog him: I'll go fetch the Officers.

Long. Do but stir to fetch a Serjeant; and besides your loss Of labour, I'll have you beaten, till Those casement in your faces be false lights.

Mont. So far as my ability will go You shall have satisfaction Longeville. Long. And leave your self neglected; every man Is first a debtor to his own demands, being honest. Mont. As I take it, Sir, I did Not entertain you for my Counselor. Long. Counsel's the office of a servant, When the master falls upon a danger; as Defence is; never threaten with your eyes, They are no cockatrices; do you hear? Talk with [a] Girdler, or [a] Mill'ner, He can inform you of a kind of men That first undid the profit of those trades By bringing up the form of carrying Their Morglays in their hands: with some of those A man may make himself a priviledge To ask a question at the prison gates Without your good permission. 2 Cred. By your leave. Mont. Stay Sir, what one example since the time That first you put your hat off to me, have You noted in me to encourage you To this presumption? by the justice now Of thine own rule, I should begin with thee, I should turn thee away ungratified For all thy former kindness, forget Thou ever didst me any service: 'tis not fear Of being arrested, makes me thus incline To satisfy you; for you see by him, I lost not all defences with my state; The curses of a man to whom I am Beholding terrify me more, than all The violence he can pursue me with. Duboys, I did prepare me for the worst; These two small Cabinets do comprehend The sum of all the wealth that it hath pleased Adversity to leave me, one as rich As th'other, both in Jewels; take thou this, And as the Order put within it shall Direct thee, distribute it half between Those Creditors, and th' other half among My servants: for (Sir) they are my Creditors As well as you are, they have trusted me With their advancement: if the value fail, To please you all, my first increase of means Shall offer you a fuller payment; be content To leave me something, and imagine that You put a new beginner into credit. Cred. So prosper our own blessings, as we wish you to your merit. Mont. Are you[r] silences of discontent, or of sorrow? Dub. Sir, we would not leave you. Long. Do but suffer us to follow you, and what our present means, or industries hereafter can provide, shall serve you. Mont. Oh desire me not to live To such a baseness, as to be maintained By those that serve me; pray begone, I will Defend your honesties to any man That shall report you have forsaken me; I pray begone. [Exeunt Servants and Creditors. Why, dost thou weep my boy, Because I do not bid thee go to[o]? Ver. No, I weep (my Lord) because I would not go; I fear you will command me. Mont. No my child, I will not; that would discommend th' intent Of all my other actions: thou art yet Unable to advise thy self a course, Should I put thee to seek it; after that I must excuse, or at the least forgive Any [un]charitable deed that can be done against my self. Ver. Every day (my Lord) I tarry with you, I'll account A day of blessing to me; for I shall Have so much less time left me of my life When I am from you: and if misery Befall you (which I hope so good a man Was never born to) I will take my part, And make my willingness increase my strength To bear it. In the Winter I will spare Mine own cloth[e]s from my self to cover you; And in the Summer, carry some of yours To ease you: I'll doe any thing I can. Mont. Why, thou art able to make misery Ashamed of hurting, when thy weakness can Both bear it, and despise it: Come my boy I will provide some better way for thee Than this thou speakst of: 'tis the comfort that [Ill] fortune has undone me into the fashion: For now in this age most men do begin, To keep but one boy, that kept many men. [Exeunt.

Orl. Where is she? call her. Lady. I attend you Sir. Orl. Your friend sweet Madam. Lady. What friend, good my Lord? Orl. Your Montague, Madam, he will shortly want Those Courtly graces that you love him for; The means wherewith he purchased this, and this; And all his own provisions to the least Proportion of his feeding, or his clothes, Came out of that inheritance of land Which he unjustly lived on: but the law Has given me right in't, and possession; now Thou shalt perceive his bravery vanish, as This Jewell does from thee now, and these Pearls To him that owes 'em.

Orl. No, not of him, sweet Lady. Lady. O good [God]! Orl. But in a while your mind will change, and be As ready to disclaim him; when his wants And miseries have perish'd his good face, And taken off the sweetness that has made Him pleasing in a womans understanding. La. O Heaven, how gratious had Creation been To women, who are born without defence, If to our hearts there had been doors through which Our husbands might have lookt into our thoughts, And made themselves undoubtfull. Orl. Made 'em mad. La. With honest women. Orl. Thou dost still pretend A title to that virtue: prethee let Thy honesty speak freelie to me now. Thou know'st that Montague, of whose Land I [a]m the master, did affect thee first, And should have had thee, if the strength of friends Had not prevail'd above thine own consent. I have undone him; tell me how thou dost Consider his ill fortune and my good. La. I'll tell you justly his undoing is An argument for pity and for tears In all their dispositions that have known The honor and the goodness of his life: Yet that addition of prosperity, Which you have got by't, no indifferent man Will malice or repine at, if the Law Be not abused in't; howsoever since You have the upper fortune of him, 'twill Be some dishonor to you to bear your self With any pride or glory over him. Orl. This may be truely spoken, but in thee It is not honest. La. Yes, so honest, that I care not if the chast Penelope Were now alive to hear me.

Orl. Who comes there? La. My brother. Am. Save ye. Orl. Now Sir, you have heard of prosperous Montague. Am. No Sir, I have heard of Montague, But of your prosperity. Orl. Is he distracted. Am. He does bear his loss with such a noble strength Of patience that, Had fortune eyes to see him, she would weep For having hurt him, and pretending that Shee did it but for triall of his worth: Hereafter ever love him. Orl. I perceive you love him, and because (I must confess) He does deserve that though for some respects, I have not given him that acknowledgement, Yet in mine honor I did still conclude to use him nobly. Am. Sir, that will become your reputation and make me grow proud of your alliance. Orl. I did reserve the doing of this friendship till I had His fortunes at my mercy, that the world May tell him 'tis a willing courtesie. La. This change will make me happy. Orl. 'Tis a change; thou shalt behold it: then observe me when That Montague had possession of my Land, I was his rivall, and at last obtain'd This Lady who, by promise of her own Affection to him, should ha' bin his wife; I had her, and withheld her like a pawn, Till now my Land is rend'red to me again, And since it is so, you shall see I have The conscience not to keep her—give him her— [draws.

Am. Give me way— [draws. Thou most unworthy man—give me way; Or by the wrong he does the Innocent, I'll end thy misery and his wickedness, together. Lady. Stay and let me justifie My husband in that, I have wrong'd his bed. [Exeunt Am. Orl.

Never—all shames that can afflict me fall Upon me if I ever wrong'd you; Orl. Didst thou not confess it; La. 'Twas to save your blood from shedding, that has Turn'd my brothers edge; He that beholds our thoughts as plainely as Our faces, knowes it, I did never hurt My honesty but by accusing it. Orl. Womens consents are sooner credited Than their denials: and I'll never trust Her body that prefers any defence Before the safety of her honor—here

Show forth that stranger—give me not a word. Thou seest a danger readie to be tempted. La. Cast that upon me rather than my shame, And as I am now dying I will vow That I am honest. Orl. Put her out of dores; but that I fear my land May go again to Montague, I would kill thee, I am loth, To make a beggar of him that way; or else— Go now you have the liberty of flesh, And you may put it to a double use, One for your pleasure, th'other to maintain Your wellbeloved, he will want. [Exit Lady. In such a charitable exercise The virtue will excuse you for the vice. [Exit Orleans.

Mont. What means your Lordship? Ver. For the love of [God]. Am. Thou hast advantage of me, cast away this buckler. Mont. So he is Sir, for he lives With one that is undone—avoyd us boy. Ver. I'll first avoid my safety, Your Rapier shall be button'd with my head, before it touch my Master. Am. Montague? Mont. Sir. Am. You know my sister? Mont. Yes Sir. Am. For a whore? Mont. You lye, and shall lie lower if you dare abuse her honor.

La. I am honest. Am. Honest! La. Upon my faith I am. Am. What did then p[e]rsuade thee to condemn thy self? La. Your safety. Am. I had rather be expos'd To danger, than dishonor; th'ast betray'd The reputation of my familie More basely by the falseness of that word, Than if thou hadst delivered me asleep Into the hands of base enemies. Relief will never make thee sensible Of thy disgraces; let thy wants compell thee to it. [Exit. La. O I am a miserable woman. Mont. Why Madam? are you utterly without means to relieve you?

Mont. Stand off boy, nakedness would be a change To please us Madam, to delight us both. La. What nakedness Sir? Mont. Why the nakedness of body Madam, we were Lovers once. La. Never dishonest Lovers. Mont. Honestie has no allowance now to give our selves. La. Nor you allowance against honestie. Mont. I'll send my Boy hence, opportunitie Shall be our servant, come and meet me first With kisses like a stranger at the door, And then invite me nearer to receive A more familiar inward wellcome; where, Instead of tapers made of Virgins wax Th'increasing flames of our desires shall light Us to a banquet: and before the taste Be dull with satisfaction, I'll prepare A nourishment compos'd of every thing That bears a naturall friendship to the blood, And that shall set another edge upon 't, Or else between the courses of the feast We'll dallie out an exercise of time, That ever as one appetite expires another may succeed it. La. O my Lord, how has your nature lost her worthiness! When our affections had their liberty, Our kisses met as temperatelie as The hands of sisters, or of brothers, that Our bloods were then as moving; then you were So noble, that I durst have trusted your Embraces in an opportunity Silent enough to serve a ravisher, And yet come from you—undishonor'd—how You think me altered, that you promise your Attempt success I know not; but were all The sweet temptations that deceive us set On this side, and [on] that side all the waiters, These neither should p[e]rsuade me, nor these force. Mont. Then misery may waste your body. Lady. Yes, but lust shall never. Mont. I have found you still as uncorupted as I left you first Continue so; and I will serve you with As much devotion as my word, my hand Or purse can show you; and to justifie That promise, here is half the wealth I have, Take it, you owe me nothing, till you fall From virtue, which the better to protect I have bethought me of a present means: Give me the Letter; this commends my Boy Into the service of a Lady, whose Free goodness you have bin acquainted with, Lamira. Lady. Sir I know her. Mont. Then believe her entertainment will be noble to you; My boy shall bring you thither: and relate Your manner of misfortune if your own Report needs any witness: so I kiss your hand good Lady.

Mont. All that you can implore in thankfulness Be yours, to make you the more prosperous. Farwell my boy,—I am not yet oppress'd. [Exit Lady Vere. Having the power to helpe one that's distress'd. [Exeunt.

Long. What shall we do now: swords are out of use, And words are out of credit. Dub. We must serve. L[o]ng. The means to get a service will first spend Our purses; and except we can allow Our selves an entertainment, service will Neglect us; now 'tis grown into a doubt Whether the Mr. or the servants gives the countenance. Dub. Then fall in with Mistresses. Long. They keep more servants now (indeed) than men, But yet the age is grown so populous Of those attendants, that the women are Grown full too. Dub. What shall we propound our selves? Long. I'll think on't. Dub. Do; Old occupations have too many setters up to prosper, some uncommon trade would thrive now. Long. Wee'll e'en make up some half a dozen proper men. And should not we get more Than all your female sinners? Dub. If the house be seated as it should be privately. Long. I, but that would make a multitude of witches. Dub. Witches? how prethee? Long. Thus the bauds would all turn witches to revenge Themselves upon us, and the women that Come to us, for disguises must wear beards, And that's they say, a token of a witch. Dub. What shall we then do. Long. We must study on't With more consideration; stay Duboyes Are not the Lord of Orleans and the Lord Of Amiens enemies? Dub. Yes, what of that. Long. Methinks the factions of two such great men. Should give a promise of advancement now To us that want it. Dub. Let the plot be thine, and in the enterprize I'll second thee. Long. I have it, we will first set down our selves The Method of a quarrell; and make choyce Of some frequented Tavern; or such a place Of common notice, to perform it in By way of undertaking to maintain The severall honors of those enemies. Thou for the Lord of Orleans; I for Amiens. Dub. I like the project, and I think 'twill take The better, since their difference first did rise From his occasion whom we followed once. Long. We cannot hope less after the report, Than entertainment or gratuity, Yet those are ends, I do not aim at most; Great spirits that are needy, and will thrive, Must labour whiles such troubles are alive. [Exeunt.

Ami. I seek thee not, nor shalt thou ever gain That credit, which a blow from me wou'd give thee, By my —— I more detest that fellow Which took my part than thee, that he durst offer To take my honor in his feeble armes, And spend it in a drinking room; which way went he?

Lav. That shall be our tasks; Nay more, we will be agents with thee: This hour we are to meet him, on the receipt of certain moneys, Which indeed we purpose honestly to cheat him of, And that's the main cause I wou'd have him slain, Who works with safety makes a double gain. [Exeunt.

Ami. I have mistook the man, his resolute spirit Proclaimes him generous, he has a noble heart As free to utter good deeds as to act them; For had he not been right, and of one piece, He would have crumpled, curled, and struck himself Out of the shape of man into a shaddow. But prethee tell me, if no such fawning hope Did lead thee on to hazard life for my sake; What was it that incited thee? Tell me; speak it without the imputation of a Sycophant.

Ami. To such a man as thou art, my heart shall be A Casket: I will lock thee up there, And esteem thee as a faithfull friend, The richest Jewell that a man enjoyes; And being thou didst follow once my friend, And in thy heart still dost, not with his fortunes casting him off, Thou shalt go hand in hand with me, and share As well in my ability as love; 'tis not my end To gain men for my use, but a true friend. [Exeunt.

Dub. There's no such thriving way to live in grace, As to have no sence of it; his back nor belly Shall not want warming that can practise me mischief; I walk now with a full purse, grow high and wanton, Prune and briske my self in the bright shine Of his good Lordships favours; and for what virtue? For fashioning my self a murderer. O noble Montague, to whom I owe my heart, With all my best thoughts, though my tongue have promis'd To exceed the malice of thy destiny, Never in time of all my service knew I Such a sin tempt thy bounty; those that did feed Upon thy charge had merit or else need.

Mont. Ye dregs of baseness, vultures amongst men, That tyre upon the hearts of generous spirits.

Mont. But here comes one made of another piece; A man well meriting that free born name Of Citizen; welcome my deliverer, I am falen Into the hands of blood-hounds, that for a sum Lesser than their honesties, which is nothing, Wou'd tear me out of my skin.

Dub. I am your friend and servant. Struggle with me and take my Sword; Noble Sir, make your way, you have slain an Officer. Mont. Some one of them has certainly Requited me; for I doe lose much blood.

Lam. You see Lady What harmless sports ou[r] Countrey life affords; And though you meet not here with City dainties, Or Courtly entertainment, what you have Is free and hearty. L. Orl. Madam, I find here What is a stranger to the Court, content, And receive curtesies done for themselves, Without an expectation of return, Which binds me to your service. Lam. Oh your love; My homely house built more for use than shew Observes the Golden mean equally distant From glittering pomp, and sordid avarice; For Maskes, we will observe the works of nature, And in the place of visitation, read: Our Physick shall be wholsome walks, our viands, Nourishing, not provoking: for I find Pleasures are tortures that leave stings behind. L. Orl. You have a great estate. Lam. A competency Sufficient to maintain me and my rank, Nor am I, I thank Heaven, so Courtly bred As to imploy the utmost of my Rents In paying Tailors for phantastick Robes; Or rather than be second in the fashion, Eat out my Officers and my Revenues With grating usury; my back shall not Be the base on which your soothing Citizen Erects his Summer-houses; nor on th' other side Will I be so penuriously wise, As to make money (that's my slave) my Idoll, Which yet to wrong, merits as much reproof, As to abuse our servant. L. Orl. Yet with your pardon I think you want the Crown of all contentment. Lam. In what good Madam? L. Orl. In a worthy husband. Lam. —— It is strange the galley-slave should praise His Oar, or stroaks; or you, that have made shipwrack Of all delight upon this Rock, cal'd marriage, Should sing Encomions on't. L. Orl. Madam, though one fall From his horse and break his neck, will you Conclude from that it is unfit to ride? Or must it follow, because Orleans My Lord's pleased to make his passionate triall Of my suspected patience, that my brother, (Were he not so, I might say, worthy Amiens) Will imitate his ills, that cannot fancy What's truely Noble in him? Lam. I must grant There's as much worth in him as can be lookt for From a young Lord, but not enough to make Me change my golden liberty and consent To be a servant to it, as wives are To the Imperious humors of their Lords: Me thinks I'm well, I rise and goe to bed When I think fit, eat what my appetite Desires without controle, my servants study Is my contentment, and to make me merry Their farthest ayms; my sleeps are enquired after, My rising up saluted with respect: Command and liberty now wait upon My Virgin state; what would I more; change all, And for a husband? no; these freedoms die, In which they live with my Virginity; 'Tis in their choice that's rich to be a wife, But not being yoakt to chuse the single life. Ver. Madam.

Lam. Why doe you sigh? you are sorry that you left him, He made a wanton of you. Ver. Not for that: Or if he did, for that my youth must love him. Oh pardon me, if I say liberty Is bondage, if compar'd with his kind service; And but to have power now to speak his worth To its desert; I should be well content To be an old man when his praise were ended: And yet, if at this instant you were pleased, I should begin, the livery of age Would take his lodging upon this head Ere I should bring it to a period. In brief he is a man (for [God] forbid That I should ever live to say he was Of such a shape as would make one beloved, That never had good thought;) and to his body He hath a mind of such a constant temper In which virtues throng to have a room: Yet 'gainst this noble Gentleman, this Montague, For in that name I comprehend all goodness, Wrong, and the wrested law, false witnesses, And envy sent from hell, have rose in Armes, And though not pierc'd, batter'd his honor'd shield. What shall I say? I hope you will forgive me, That if you were but pleas'd to love, I know no Juno worthy such a Jove.

Lam. 'Tis well yet that I have the second place In your affection: From whence? Charl. From the Lord Amiens, Madam. Lam. 'Tis wellcome, though it bear his usual language: I thought so much, his love-suit speaks his health. What's he that brought it? Charl. A Gentleman of good rank, it seems. Lam. Where is he? Charl. Receiving entertainment in your house Sorting with his degree. Lam. 'Tis well. Charl. He waits your Ladyships pleasure. Lam. He shall not wait long: I'll leave you for a while; nay stay you boy, Attend the Lady. [Exeunt Lam. Charl. Vir. Would I might live once To wait on my poor Master. L. Orl. That's a good boy: This thankfulness looks lovely on thy forehead, And in it, as a book, me thinks I read Instructions for my self, that am his debtor, And wou'd do much that I might be so happy To repair that which to our grief is ruin'd. Vir. It were a work a King might glory in, If he saw with my eyes: If you please Madam, For sure to me you seem unapt to walk, To sit, although the churlish Birds deny To give us musick in this grove, where they Are prodigall to others: I'll strain my voyce For a sad Song, the place is safe and private. L. Orl. 'Twas my desire; begin good Viramour.

L. Orl. What's he Viramour? Vir. A goodly personage. Mont. Am I yet safe? or is my flight a dream? My wounds and hunger tell me that I wake: Whither have my fears born me? no matter where, Who hath no place to goe to, cannot err: What shall I do? cunning calamity! That others gross wits uses to refine, When I most need it duls the edg of mine. L. Orl. Is not this Montagues voyce? Vir. My Masters? fie. Mont. What sound was that, 'pish, Fear makes the wretch think every leaf oth' Jury: What course to live, 'beg? better men have done it, But in another kind: steal? Alexander Though stil'd a Conqueror, was a proud thief, Though he rob'd with an Army; fie how idle These meditations are: though thou art worse Than sorrows tongue can speak thee, thou art still, Or shouldst be, honest Montague. L. Orl. 'Tis too true. Vir. 'Tis he: what villains hands did this? oh that my flesh Were Balm; in faith Sir, I would pluck it off As readily as this; pray you accept My will to do you service: I have heard The Mouse once sav'd the Lyon in his need, As the poor Scarab spild the Eagles seed. L. Orl. How do you? Mont. As a forsaken man. L. Orl. Do not say so, take comfort, For your misfortunes have been kind in this, To cast you on a hospitable shoar, Where dwels a Lady— Vir. She to whom, good Master, You prefer'd me. L. Orl. In whose house, whatsoere Your dangers are, I'll undertake your safety. Mont. I fear that I am pursued, and doubt that I, In my defence have kild an Officer. Vir. Is that all? there's no law under the Sun But will I hope confess, one drop of blood Shed from this arme is recompence enough Though you had cut the throats of all the Catchpoles In France, nay in the world. Mont. I would be loth To be a burthen, or feed like a drone On the industrious labor of a Bee, And baser far I hold it to owe for The bread I eat, what's not in me to pay; Then since my full fortunes are declin'd, To their low ebb I'll fashion my high mind. It was no shame to Hecuba, to serve When Troy was fir'd: if't be in your power To be a means to make her entertainment, And far from that I was; but to supply My want with habit fit for him that serves, I shall owe much to you. L. Orl. Leave that care to me.

Mont. Thou dost deserve it boy, that I should live To be thus troublesome. L. Orl. Good Sir, 'tis none. Vir. Trouble? most willingly I would be chang'd Like Apuleius, weare his Asses ears, Provided I might still this burthen bear. L. Orl. 'Tis a kind boy. Mont. I find true proof of it. [Exeunt.

Ami. Nay, be not angry, if I entertained But the least scruple of your love, or courage, I would make choyce of one which my estate Should do me right in this, nor can you blame me If in a matter of such consequence I am so importunate. Long. Good my Lord let me prevent your farther conjurations To rayse my spirit, I know this is a challenge To be delivered unto Orlean[c]e hand, And that my undertaking ends not there, But I must be your second, and in that Not alone search your enemy, measure weapons, But stand in all your hazards, as our blouds Ran in the self-same veins, in which if I Better not your opinion, as a limb That's putrifi'd and useless, cut me off, And underneath the Gallows bury it. Ami. At full you understand me, and in this Bind me, and what's mine to you and yours, I will not so much wrong you as to add One syllable more, let it suffice I leave My honor to your guard: and in that prove, You hold the first place in my heart and love. [Ex. Ami.

Dub. With this hand, only aided by this brain, Without an Orpheus Harp redeem'd from Hells Three headed Porter, our Euridice.

Dub. Were it not in a house, and in his presence, To whom I owe all duty—

Long. I think thou art his Porter, Set here to answer creditors, that his Lordship Is not within, or takes the diet: I am sent, And will grow here until I have an answer, Not to demand a debt of money, but To call him to a strict account for wrong Done to the honors of a Gentleman, Which nothing but his heart-bloud shall wash off. Dub. Shall I hear this? Long. And more, that if [I] may not Have access to him, I will fix this here To his disgrace and thine. Dub. And thy life with it. Long. Then have the copies of it pasted on posts, Like Pamphlet Titles, that sue to be sold; Have his disgrace talk for Tobacco-shops, His picture baffled. Dub. All respect away, wer't in a Church— [draw both. Long. This is the Book I pray with.

Orl. Forbear upon your lives.

Dub. If he does, thou deserv'st it. Long. I dare you all to touch me, I'll not stand still, What answer? Orl. That thou hast done to Amiens The office of a faithful friend, which I Would cherish in thee, were he not my foe, How ever since on honourable terms He calls me forth, say I will meet with him, And by Dubois e'r Sun-set make him know The time and place, my swords length, and what ever Scruple of circumstance he can expect. Long. This answer comes unlookt for, fare you well, Finding your temper thus, wou'd I had said less. [Exit. Orl. Now comes thy love to the test. Dub. My Lord, 'twill hold, And in all dangers prove it self true Gold. [Exeunt.

Ser. I will acquaint my Lady with your coming. Please you repose your selves here.

Mont. Do ye smell nothing? Char. Not I Sir. Mont. The carrion of knaves is very strong in my nostrils. Lav. We came to admire, and find Fame was a niggard, Which we thought prodigal in our report Before we saw you. Lam. Tush Sir, this Courtship's old. La-p. I'll fight for thee, sweet wench, This is my tongue, and woes for me. Lam. Good man of War, Hands off; if you take me, it must be by siege, Not by an onset; and for your valour, I Think that I have de[ser]ved few enemies, And therefore need it not.

Lam. Be mine; I apprehend what you would say, Those dainties which the City pays so dear for, The Countrey yields for nothing, and as early; And, credit me, your far-fet viands please not My appetite better than those that are near hand. Then for your promis'd service and subjection To all my humors, when I am your wife, Which [as] it seems, is frequent in the City, I cannot find what pleasure they receive In using their fond Husbands like their Maids; But of this, more hereafter: I accept Your proffer kindly, and yours; my house stands open To entertain you, take your pleasure in it, And ease after your journey. La. Orl. Do you note the boldness of the fellows? Lam. Alas Madam, a Virgin must in this be like a Lawyer, And as he takes all Fees; she must hear all suitors; the One for gain, the other for her mirth; stay with the Gentlemen, we'll to the Orchards.

La-p. —— What art thou? Mont. An honest man, though poor; And look they like to monsters, are they so rare?

Mont. Though you take priviledge to use your tongue[s], I pray you hold your fingers, 'Twas your base cozenag[e] made me as I am: And were you somewhere else, I would take off This proud film from your eyes, that will not let you, Know I am Montague.

Mont. All this I can endure under this roof, And so much owe I her, whose now I am, That no wrong shall incense me to molest, Her quiet house, while you continue here, I will not be ashamed to do you service More than to her, because such is her pleasure. But you that have broke thrice, and fourteen times Compounded for two shillings in the pound, Know I dare kick you in your shop; do you hear? If ever I see Paris, though an Army Of musty Murrions, rusty brown Bills and Clubs, Stand for your guard—I have heard of your tricks, And you that smell of Amber at my charge, And triumph in your cheat; well, I may live To meet thee, be it among a troop of such That are upon the fair face of the Court Like running Ulcers, and before thy whore Trampel upon thee.

Mont. A Coxcomb are you not? that thou and I, To give proof, which of us dares most, were now In midst of a rough Sea, upon a piece Of a split Ship, where only one might ride,

I would—but foolish anger makes me talk Like a Player. Lam. Indeed you act a part Doth ill become you my servant; is this your duty?

Lam. Why sirrah, these are none of your comrades To drink with in the Cellar; one of them For ought you know, may live to be your Master. La-p. There's some comfort yet. Lam. Here's choice of three, a wealthy Merchant. Mal. Hem, she's taken, she hath spy'd my good Calf, And many Ladies chuse their Husbands by that. Lam. A Courtier that's in grace, a valiant Captain, And are these mates for you, away, begone. Mont. I humbly pray you will be pleased to pardon, And to give satisfaction to you Madam, (Although I break my heart) I will confess That I have wrong'd them too, and make submission. Lam. No I'll spare that; go bid the Cook haste supper. [Exit Mont.

Lam. Gallants indeed, if it be the Gallants fashion To triumph in the miseries of a man, Of which they are the cause: one that transcends (In spight of all that fortune hath, or can be done) A million of such things as you, my doors Stand open to receive all such as wear The shape of Gentlemen, and my gentl[i]er nature (I might say weaker) weighs not the expence Of entertainment; think you I'll forget yet What's due unto my self? do not I know, That you have dealt with poor Montague, but like Needy Commanders, cheating Citizens, And perjur'd Courtiers? I am much mov'd, else use not To say so much, if you will bear your selves As fits such, you would make me think you are, You may stay; if not, the way lies before you. [Exit.

Mont. Now Montague, who discerns thy spirit now? Thy breeding, or thy bloud? here's a poor cloud Eclipseth all thy splendor; who can read In thy pale face, dead eye, or lenten shute, The liberty thy ever-giving hand Hath bought for others, manacling it self In gyves of parchment indissoluble? The greatest hearted man supplyed with means, Nobility of birth and gentlest parts, I thought the right hand of his Sovereign, If virtue quit her seat in his high soul, Glitters but like a Palace set on fire, Whose glory whilst it shines, but ruins him, And his bright show each hour to ashes tending Shall at the last be rak'd up like a sparkle, Unless mens lives and fortunes feed the flame. Not for my own wants, though blame I my Stars, But suffering others to cast love on me, When I can neither take, nor thankful be. My Ladies woman, fair and virtuous Young as the present month, sollicites me For love and marriage now being nothing worth—

Ver. Oh! Master, I have sought you a long hour, Good faith, I never joy'd out of your sight; For Heavens sake, Sir, be merry, or else bear The buffets of your fortunes with more scorn; Do but begin to rail, teach me the way, And I'll sit down, and help your anger forth: I have known you wear a suit; full worth a Lordship, Give to a man whose need ne'er frighted you From calling of him friend, five hundred Crowns E'er sleep had left your sences to consider Your own important present uses; yet Since I have seen you with a t[r]encher wait, Void of all scorn, therefore I'll wait on you. Mont. Would [God] thou wert less honest. Ver. Would to [God] you were less worthy: I am ev'n w'e Sir. Mon. Is not thy Master strangely fall'n, when thou Servest for no wages, but for charity? Thou dost surcharge me with thy plenteous love: The goodness of thy virtue shown to me, More opens still my disability To quit thy pains: credit me loving boy, A free and honest nature may be opprest, Tir'd with courtesies from a liberal spirit, When they exceed his means of gratitude. Ver. But 'tis a due in him that to that end Extends his love or duty. Mont. Little world Of virtue, why dost love and follow me? Ver. I will follow you through all Countreys, I'll run (fast as I can) by your horse side, I'll hold your stirrop when you do alight, And without grudging, wait till you return: I'll quit offer'd means, and expose my self To cold and hunger, still to be with you; Fearless I'll travel through a wilderness, And when you are weary, I will lay me down That in my bosom you may rest your head, Where whilst you sleep, I'll watch, that no wild beast Shall hurt or trouble you: and thus we'll breed a story To make every hearer weep, When they disco[u]rse our fortunes and our loves. Mont. Oh what a scoff might men of women make, If they did know this boy? but my desire Is, that thou wouldest not (as thou usest still: When like a servant, I 'mong servants sit) Wait on my Trencher, fill my cups with Wine: Why should'st thou do this boy? prethee consider, I am not what I was.

Mont. Rather curse me, with whom thy youth hath spent, So many hours, and yet untaught to live By any worldly quality. Ver. Indeed you never taught me how to handle Cards To cheat and cozen men with oaths and lies: Those are the worldly qualities to live: Some of our scarlet Gallants teach their boys These worldly qualities. Since stumbling fortune then leaves virtue thus Let me leave fortune, e'r be vicious. Mon. Oh lad, thy love will kill me. Ver. In truth, I think in conscience [I] shall dye for you: Good Master weep not, do you want aught, Sir? Will you have any money, here's some Silver; And here's a little Gold, 'twill serve to play, And put more troublesome thoughts out of your mind: I pray Sir take it, I'll get more with singing. And then I'll bring it you, my Lady ga't me, And—it was not covetousness, But I forgot to tell you sooner on't. Mont. Alas boy, thou art not bound to tell it me, And less to give it, buy thee Scarfs and Garters, And when I have money, I will give thee a sword: Nature made thee a beauteous Cabinet To lock up [all] the goodness of the earth.