[SCENE II]

[A Room in Rochfort’s House.]

Enter Beaumelle: Florimell: Bellapert.

Beau. I prithee tell me, Florimell, why do women marry?

Flor. Why truly Madam, I thinke, to lye with their husbands.

Bella. You are a foole: She lyes, Madam, women marry husbands, To lye with other men. [5]

Flor. Faith eene such a woman wilt thou make. By this light, Madam, this wagtaile will spoyle you, if you take delight in her licence.

Beau. Tis true, Florimell: and thou wilt make me too good for a yong Lady. What an electuary found my father out for [10] his daughter, when hee compounded you two my women? for thou, Florimell, art eene a graine to heauy, simply for a wayting Gentlewoman.

Flor. And thou Bellapert, a graine too light.

Bella. Well, go thy wayes goodly wisdom, whom no body [15] regards. I wonder, whether be elder thou or thy hood: you thinke, because you serue my Laydes mother, are 32 yeeres old which is a peepe out, you know.

Flor. Well sayd, wherligig.

Bella. You are deceyu’d: I want a peg ith’ middle. [20] Out of these Prerogatiues! you thinke to be mother of the maydes heere, & mortifie em with prouerbs: goe, goe, gouern the sweet meates, and waigh the Suger, that the wenches steale none: say your prayers twice a day, and as I take it, you haue performd your function. [25]

Flor. I may bee euen with you.

Bell. Harke, the Court’s broke vp. Goe helpe my old Lord out of his Caroch, and scratch his head till dinner time.

Flor. Well.

Exit.

Bell. Fy Madam, how you walke! By my mayden-head [30] you looke 7 yeeres older then you did this morning: why, there can be nothing vnder the Sunne vanuable, to make you thus a minute.

Beau. Ah my sweete Bellapert thou Cabinet To all my counsels, thou dost know the cause [35] That makes thy Lady wither thus in youth.

Bel. Vd’d-light, enioy your wishes: whilst I liue, One way or other you shall crowne your will. Would you haue him your husband that you loue, And can’t not bee? he is your seruant though, [40] And may performe the office of a husband.

Beau. But there is honor, wench.

Bell. Such a disease There is in deed, for which ere I would dy.—

Beau. Prethee, distinguish me a mayd & wife.

Bell. Faith, Madam, one may beare any mans children, [45] Tother must beare no mans.

Beau. What is a husband?

Bell. Physicke, that tumbling in your belly, will make you sicke ith’ stomacke: the onely distinction betwixt a husband and a seruant is: the first will lye with you, when he please; the last shall lye with you when you please. Pray tell me, [50] Lady, do you loue, to marry after, or would you marry, to loue after.

Beau. I would meete loue and marriage both at once.

Bell. Why then you are out of the fashion, and wilbe contemn’d; for (Ile assure you) there are few women i’th world, [55] but either they haue married first, and loue after, or loue first, and marryed after: you must do as you may, not as you would: your fathers will is the Goale you must fly to: if a husband approach you, you would haue further off, is he your loue? the lesse neere you. A husband in these days is but a [60] cloake to bee oftner layde vpon your bed, then in your bed.

Baum. Humpe.

Bell. Sometimes you may weare him on your shoulder, now and then vnder your arme: but seldome or neuer let him [65] couer you: for ’tis not the fashion.

Enter y. Nouall, Pontalier, Malotin, Lilladam, Aymer.

Nou. Best day to natures curiosity, Starre of Dijum, the lustre of all France, Perpetuall spring dwell on thy rosy cheekes, Whose breath is perfume to our Continent, [70] See Flora turn’d in her varieties.

Bell. Oh diuine Lord!

Nou. No autumne, nor no age euer approach This heauenly piece, which nature hauing wrought, She lost her needle and did then despaire, [75] Euer to work so liuely and so faire.

Lilad. Vds light, my Lord one of the purles of your band is (without all discipline falne) out of his ranke.

Nou. How? I would not for a 1000 crownes she had seen’t. Deare Liladam, reforme it. [80]

Bell. O Lord: Per se, Lord, quintessence of honour, shee walkes not vnder a weede that could deny thee any thing.

Baum. Prethy peace, wench, thou dost but blow the fire, that flames too much already. [85]

Lilad. Aym. trim Nouall, whilst Bell her Lady.

Aym. By gad, my Lord, you haue the diuinest Taylor of Christendome; he hath made you looke like an Angell in your cloth of Tissue doublet.

Pont. This is a three-leg’d Lord, ther’s a fresh assault, oh that men should spend time thus! [90] See see, how her blood driues to her heart, and straight vaults to her cheekes againe.

Malo. What are these?

Pont. One of ’em there the lower is a good, foolish, knauish sociable gallimaufry of a man, and has much taught [95] my Lord with singing, hee is master of a musicke house: the other is his dressing blocke, vpon whom my Lord layes all his cloathes, and fashions, ere he vouchsafes ’em his owne person; you shall see him i’th morning in the Gally-foyst, at noone in the Bullion, i’th euening in Quirpo, and all night [100] in—

Malo. A Bawdy house.

Pont. If my Lord deny, they deny, if hee affirme, they affirme: they skip into my Lords cast skins some twice a yeere, and thus they liue to eate, eate to liue, and liue to prayfe my [105] Lord.

Malo. Good sir, tell me one thing.

Pont. What’s that?

Malo. Dare these men euer fight, on any cause?

Pont. Oh no, ’t would spoyle their cloathes, and put their [110] bands out of order.

Nou. Mrs, you heare the news: your father has resign’d his Presidentship to my Lord my father.

Malo. And Lord Charolois vndone foreuer.

Pont. Troth, ’tis pity, sir. A brauer hope of so assur’d a father [115] Did neuer comfort France.

Lilad. A good dumbe mourner.

Aym. A silent blacke. As if he had come this Christmas from St. Omers.

Nou. Oh fie vpon him, how he weares his cloathes! To see his friends, and return’d after Twelfetyde. [120]

Lilad. His Colonell lookes fienely like a drouer.

Nou. That had a winter ly’n perdieu i’th rayne.

Aym. What, he that weares a clout about his necke, His cuffes in’s pocket, and his heart in’s mouth?

Nou. Now out vpon him!

Beau. Seruant, tye my hand. [125] How your lips blush, in scorne that they should pay Tribute to hands, when lips are in the way!

Nou. I thus recant, yet now your hand looks white Because your lips robd it of such a right. Mounsieur Aymour, I prethy sing the song [130] Deuoted to my Mrs.

Cant. Musicke.

After the Song, Enter Rochfort, & Baumont.

Baum. Romont will come, sir, straight.

Roch. ’Tis well.

Beau. My Father.

Nouall. My honorable Lord.

Roch. My Lord Nouall this is a vertue in you. So early vp and ready before noone, [135] That are the map of dressing through all France.

Nou. I rise to say my prayers, sir, heere’s my Saint.

Roch. Tis well and courtly; you must giue me leaue, I haue some priuate conference with my daughter, Pray vse my garden, you shall dine with me. [140]

Lilad. Wee’l waite on you.

Nou. Good morne vnto your Lordship, Remember what you haue vow’d——to his Mrs.

Exeunt omnes praeter Roch. Daug.

Beau. Performe I must.

Roch. Why how now Beaumelle, thou look’st not well. Th’ art sad of late, come cheere thee, I haue found A wholesome remedy for these mayden fits, [145] A goodly Oake whereon to twist my vine, Till her faire branches grow vp to the starres. Be neere at hand, successe crowne my intent, My businesse fills my little time so full, I cannot stand to talke: I know, thy duty [150] Is handmayd to my will, especially When it presents nothing but good and fit.

Beau. Sir, I am yours. Oh if my teares proue true, (Exit Daug Fate hath wrong’d loue, and will destroy me too.

Enter Romont keeper

Rom. Sent you for me, sir?

Roch. Yes.

Rom. Your Lordships pleasure? [155]

Roch. Keeper, this prisoner I will see forth comming Vpon my word—Sit downe good Colonell. (Exit keeper. Why I did wish you hither, noble sir, Is to aduise you from this yron carriage, Which, so affected, Romont, you weare, [160] To pity and to counsell yee submit With expedition to the great Nouall: Recant your sterne contempt, and slight neglect Of the whole Court, and him, and opportunity, Or you will vndergoe a heauy censure [165] In publique very shortly.

Rom. Hum hum: reuerend sir, I haue obseru’d you, and doe know you well, And am now more affraid you know not me, By wishing my submission to Nouall, Then I can be of all the bellowing mouthes [170] That waite vpon him to pronounce the censure, Could it determine me torments, and shame. Submit, and craue forgiuenesse of a beast? Tis true, this bile of state weares purple Tissue. Is high fed, proud: so is his Lordships horse, [175] And beares as rich Caparisons. I know, This Elephant carries on his back not onely Towres, Castles, but the ponderous republique, And neuer stoops for’t, with his strong breath trunk Snuffes others titles, Lordships, Offices, [180] Wealth, bribes, and lyues, vnder his rauenous iawes. Whats this vnto my freedome? I dare dye; And therefore aske this Cammell, if these blessings (For so they would be vnderstood by a man) But mollifie one rudenesse in his nature, [185] Sweeten the eager relish of the law, At whose great helme he sits: helps he the poore In a iust businesse? nay, does he not crosse Euery deserued souldier and scholler, As if when nature made him, she had made [190] The generall Antipathy of all vertue? How sauagely, and blasphemously hee spake Touching the Generall, the graue Generall dead, I must weepe when I thinke on’t.

Roch. Sir

Rom. My Lord, I am not stubborne, I can melt, you see, [195] And prize a vertue better then my life: For though I be not learnd, I euer lou’d That holy Mother of all issues, good, Whose white hand (for a Scepter) holds a File To pollish roughest customes, and in you [200] She has her right: see, I am calme as sleepe, But when I thinke of the grosse iniuries The godlesse wrong done, to my Generall dead, I raue indeed, and could eate this Nouall A lsoule-esse Dromodary.

Roch. Oh bee temperate, [205] Sir, though I would perswade, I’le not constraine: Each mans opinion freely is his owne, Concerning any thing or any body, Be it right or wrong, tis at the Iudges perill.

Enter Baumond,

Bau. These men, Sir, waite without, my Lord is come too. [210]

Roch. Pay ’em those summes vpon the table, take Their full releases: stay, I want a witnesse: Let mee intreat you Colonell, to walke in, And stand but by, to see this money pay’d, It does concerne you and your friends, it was [215] The better cause you were sent for, though sayd otherwise. The deed shall make this my request more plaine.

Rom. I shall obey your pleasure Sir, though ignorant To what is tends?

Exit Seruant: Romont. Enter Charolois

Roch. Worthiest Sir, [220] You are most welcome: fye, no more of this: You haue out-wept a woman, noble Charolois. No man but has, or must bury a father.

Char. Graue Sir, I buried sorrow, for his death, In the graue with him. I did neuer thinke [225] Hee was immortall, though I vow I grieue, And see no reason why the vicious, Vertuous, valiant and vnworthy man Should dye alike.

Roch. They do not.

Char. In the manner Of dying, Sir, they do not, but all dye, [230] And therein differ not: but I haue done. I spy’d the liuely picture of my father, Passing your gallery, and that cast this water Into mine eyes: see, foolish that I am, To let it doe so.

Roch. Sweete and gentle nature, [235] How silken is this well comparatiuely To other men! I haue a suite to you Sir.

Char. Take it, tis granted.

Roch. What?

Char. Nothing, my Lord.

Roch. Nothing is quickly granted.

Char. Faith, my Lord, That nothing granted, is euen all I haue, [240] For (all know) I haue nothing left to grant.

Roch. Sir, ha’ you any suite to me? Ill grant You something, any thing.

Char. Nay surely, I that can Giue nothing, will but sue for that againe. [245] No man will grant mee any thing I sue for. But begging nothing, euery man will giue’t.

Roch. Sir, the loue I bore your father, and the worth I see in you, so much resembling his. Made me thus send for you. And tender heere (Drawes a Curtayne. [250] What euer you will take, gold, Iewels, both, All, to supply your wants, and free your selfe. Where heauenly vertue in high blouded veines Is lodg’d, and can agree, men should kneele downe, Adore, and sacrifice all that they haue; [255] And well they may, it is so seldome seene. Put off your wonder, and heere freely take Or send your seruants. Nor, Sir, shall you vse In ought of this, a poore mans fee, or bribe, Vniustly taken of the rich, but what’s [260] Directly gotten, and yet by the Law.

Char. How ill, Sir, it becomes those haires to mocke?

Roch. Mocke? thunder strike mee then.

Char. You doe amaze mee: But you shall wonder too, I will not take One single piece of this great heape: why should I [265] Borrow, that haue not meanes to pay, nay am A very bankerupt, euen in flattering hope Of euer raysing any. All my begging, Is Romonts libertie.

Enter Romont. Creditors loaden with mony. Baumont.

Roch. Heere is your friend, Enfranchist ere you spake. I giue him you, [270] And Charolois. I giue you to your friend As free a man as hee; your fathers debts Are taken off.

Char. How?

Rom. Sir, it is most true. I am the witnes.

1 Cred. Yes faith, wee are pay’d.

2 Cred. Heauen blesse his Lordship, I did thinke him wiser. [275]

3 Cred. He a states-man, he an asse Pay other mens debts?

1 Cred. That he was neuer bound for.

Rom. One more such Would saue the rest of pleaders.

Char. Honord Rochfort. Lye still my toung and bushes, cal’d my cheekes, That offter thankes in words, for such great deeds. [280]

Roch. Call in my daughter: still I haue a suit to you. (Baum. Exit. Would you requite mee.

Rom. With his life, assure you.

Roch. Nay, would you make me now your debter, Sir. This is my onely child: what shee appeares, (Enter Baum. Beau. Your Lordship well may see her education [285] Followes not any: for her mind, I know it To be far fayrer then her shape, and hope It will continue so: if now her birth Be not too meane for Charolois, take her This virgin by the hand, and call her wife, [290] Indowd with all my fortunes: blesse me so, Requite mee thus, and make mee happier, In ioyning my poore empty name to yours, Then if my state were multiplied ten fold.

Char. Is this the payment, Sir, that you expect? [295] Why, you participate me more in debt, That nothing but my life can euer pay, This beautie being your daughter, in which yours I must conceiue necessitie of her vertue Without all dowry is a Princes ayme, [300] Then, as shee is, for poore and worthlesse I, How much too worthy! Waken me, Romont, That I may know I dream’t and find this vanisht

Rom. Sure, I sleepe not.

Roch. Your sentence life or death.

Char. Faire Beaumelle, can you loue me?

Beau. Yes, my Lord. [305]

Enter Nouall, Ponta. Malotine, Lilad. Aymer. All salute

Char. You need not question me, if I can you. You are the fayrest virgin in Digum, And Rochfort is your father.

Nou. What’s this change?

Roch. You met my wishes, Gentlemen.

Rom. What make These dogs in doublets heere?

Beau. A Visitation, Sir. [310]

Char. Then thus, Faire Beaumelle, I write my faith Thus seale it in the sight of Heauen and men. Your fingers tye my heart-strings with this touch In true-loue knots, which nought but death shall loose. And yet these eares (an Embleme of our loues) [315] Like Cristall riuers indiuidually Flow into one another, make one source, Which neuer man distinguish, lesse deuide: Breath, marry, breath, and kisses, mingle soules Two hearts, and bodies, heere incorporate: [320] And though with little wooing I haue wonne My future life shall be a wooing tyme. And euery day, new as the bridall one. Oh Sir I groane vnder your courtesies, More then my fathers bones vnder his wrongs, [325] You Curtius-like, haue throwne into the gulfe, Of this his Countries foule ingratitude, Your life and fortunes, to redeeme their shames.

Roch. No more, my glory, come, let’s in and hasten This celebration.

Rom. Mal. Pont. Bau. All faire blisse vpon it. [330]

Exeunt Roch. Char. Rom. Bau. Mal.

Nou. Mistresse.

Beau. Oh seruant, vertue strengthen me. Thy presence blowes round my affections vane: You will vndoe me, if you speake againe.

Exit Beaum.

Lilad. Aym. Heere will be sport for you. This workes.

Exeunt Lilad. Aym.

Nou. Peace, peace,

Pont. One word, my Lord Nouall.

Nou. What, thou wouldst mony; there. [335]

Pont. No, Ile none, Ile not be bought a slaue, A Pander, or a Parasite, for all Your fathers worth, though you haue sau’d my life, Rescued me often from my wants, I must not Winke at your follyes: that will ruine you. [340] You know my blunt way, and my loue to truth: Forsake the pursuit of this Ladies honour, Now you doe see her made another mans, And such a mans, so good, so popular, Or you will plucke a thousand mischiefes on you. [345] The benefits you haue done me, are not lost, Nor cast away, they are purs’d heere in my heart, But let me pay you, sir, a fayrer way Then to defend your vices, or to sooth ’em.

Nou. Ha, ha, ha, what are my courses vnto thee? [350] Good Cousin Pontalier, meddle with that That shall concerne thyselfe.

Exit Nouall.

Pont. No more but scorne? Moue on then, starres, worke your pernicious will. Onely the wise rule, and preuent your ill.

Exit. Hoboyes.

Here a passage ouer the Stage, while the Act is playing for the Marriage of Charalois with Beaumelle, &c.

Actus tertius.

Scaena prima.

[A Room in Charalois’ House]

Enter Nouall Iunior, Bellapert.

Nou. Iu. Flie not to these excuses: thou hast bin False in thy promise, and when I haue said Vngratefull, all is spoke.

Bell. Good my Lord, But heare me onely.

Nou. To what purpose, trifler? Can anything that thou canst say, make voyd [5] The marriage? or those pleasures but a dreame, Which Charaloyes (oh Venus) hath enioyd?

Bell. I yet could say that you receiue aduantage, In what you thinke a losse, would you vouchsafe me That you were neuer in the way till now [10] With safety to arriue at your desires, That pleasure makes loue to you vnattended By danger or repentance?

Nou. That I could. But apprehend one reason how this might be, Hope would not then forsake me.

Bell. The enioying [15] Of what you most desire, I say th’ enioying Shall, in the full possession of your wishes, Confirme that I am faithfull.

Nou. Giue some rellish How this may appeare possible.

Bell. I will Rellish, and taste, and make the banquet easie: [20] You say my Ladie’s married. I confesse it, That Charalois hath inioyed her, ’tis most true That with her, hee’s already Master of The best part of my old Lords state. Still better, But that the first, or last, should be your hindrance, [25] I vtterly deny: for but obserue me: While she went for, and was, I sweare, a Virgin, What courtesie could she with her honour giue Or you receiue with safety—take me with you, When I say courtesie, doe not think I meane [30] A kisse, the tying of her shoo or garter, An houre of priuate conference: those are trifles. In this word courtesy, we that are gamesters point at The sport direct, where not alone the louer Brings his Artillery, but vses it. [35] Which word expounded to you, such a courtesie Doe you expect, and sudden.

Nou. But he tasted The first sweetes, Bellapert.

Bell. He wrong’d you shrewdly, He toyl’d to climbe vp to the Phoenix nest, And in his prints leaues your ascent more easie. [40] I doe not know, you that are perfect Crittiques In womens bookes, may talke of maydenheads.

Nou. But for her marriage.

Bell. ’Tis a faire protection ’Gainst all arrests of feare, or shame for euer. Such as are faire, and yet not foolish, study [45] To haue one at thirteene; but they are mad That stay till twenty. Then sir, for the pleasure, To say Adulterie’s sweeter, that is stale. This onely is not the contentment more, To say, This is my Cuckold, then my Riuall. [50] More I could say—but briefly, she doates on you, If it proue otherwise, spare not, poyson me With the next gold you giue me.

Enter Beaumely

Beau. Hows this seruant, Courting my woman?

Bell. As an entrance to The fauour of the mistris: you are together [55] And I am perfect in my qu.

Beau. Stay Bellapert.

Bell. In this I must not with your leaue obey you. Your Taylor and your Tire-woman waite without And stay my counsayle, and direction for Your next dayes dressing. I haue much to doe, [60] Nor will your Ladiship know, time is precious, Continue idle: this choise Lord will finde So fit imployment for you.

Exit Bellap.

Beau. I shall grow angry.

Nou. Not so, you haue a iewell in her, Madam.

Enter againe.

Bell. I had forgot to tell your Ladiship [65] The closet is priuate and your couch ready: And if you please that I shall loose the key, But say so, and tis done.

Exit Bellap.

Baum. You come to chide me, seruant, and bring with you Sufficient warrant, you will say and truely, [70] My father found too much obedience in me, By being won too soone: yet if you please But to remember, all my hopes and fortunes Had reuerence to this likening: you will grant That though I did not well towards you, I yet [75] Did wisely for my selfe.

Nou. With too much feruor I haue so long lou’d and still loue you, Mistresse, To esteeme that an iniury to me Which was to you conuenient: that is past My helpe, is past my cure. You yet may, Lady, [80] In recompence of all my dutious seruice, (Prouided that your will answere your power) Become my Creditresse.

Beau. I vnderstand you, And for assurance, the request you make Shall not be long vnanswered. Pray you sit, [85] And by what you shall heare, you’l easily finde, My passions are much fitter to desire, Then to be sued to.

Enter Romont and Florimell.

Flor. Sir, tis not enuy At the start my fellow has got of me in My Ladies good opinion, thats the motiue [90] Of this discouery; but due payment Of what I owe her Honour.

Rom. So I conceiue it.

Flo. I haue obserued too much, nor shall my silence Preuent the remedy—yonder they are, I dare not bee seene with you. You may doe [95] What you thinke fit, which wil be, I presume, The office of a faithfull and tryed friend To my young Lord.

Exit Flori.

Rom. This is no vision: ha!

Nou. With the next opportunity.

Beau. By this kisse, And this, and this.

Nou. That you would euer sweare thus. [100]

Rom. If I seeme rude, your pardon, Lady; yours I do not aske: come, do not dare to shew mee A face of anger, or the least dislike. Put on, and suddaily a milder looke, I shall grow rough else.

Nou. What haue I done, Sir, [105] To draw this harsh vnsauory language from you?

Rom. Done, Popinjay? why, dost thou thinke that if I ere had dreamt that thou hadst done me wrong, Thou shouldest outliue it?

Beau. This is something more Then my Lords friendship giues commission for. [110]

Nou. Your presence and the place, makes him presume Vpon my patience.

Rom. As if thou ere wer’t angry But with thy Taylor, and yet that poore shred Can bring more to the making vp of a man, Then can be hop’d from thee: thou art his creature, [115] And did hee not each morning new create [thee] Thou wouldst stinke and be forgotten. Ile not change On syllable more with thee, vntill thou bring Some testimony vnder good mens hands, Thou art a Christian. I suspect thee strongly, [120] And wilbe satisfied: till which time, keepe from me. The entertaiment of your visitation Has made what I intended on a businesse.

Nou. So wee shall meete—Madam.

Rom. Vse that legge again, And Ile cut off the other.

Nou. Very good. [125]

Exit Nouall.

Rom. What a perfume the Muske-cat leaues behind him! Do you admit him for a property, To saue you charges, Lady.

Beau. Tis not vselesse, Now you are to succeed him.

Rom. So I respect you, Not for your selfe, but in remembrance of, [130] Who is your father, and whose wife you now are, That I choose rather not to vnderstand Your nasty scoffe then,—

Beau. What, you will not beate mee, If I expound it to you. Heer’s a Tyrant Spares neyther man nor woman.

Rom. My intents [135] Madam, deserue not this; nor do I stay To be the whetstone of your wit: preserue it To spend on such, as know how to admire Such coloured stuffe. In me there is now speaks to you As true a friend and seruant to your Honour, [140] And one that will with as much hazzard guard it, As euer man did goodnesse.—But then Lady, You must endeauour not alone to bee, But to appeare worthy such loue and seruice.

Beau. To what tends this?

Rom. Why, to this purpose, Lady, [145] I do desire you should proue such a wife To Charaloys (and such a one hee merits) As Caesar, did hee liue, could not except at, Not onely innocent from crime, but free From all taynt and suspition.

Beau. They are base [150] That iudge me otherwise.

Rom. But yet bee carefull. Detraction’s a bold monster, and feares not To wound the fame of Princes, if it find But any blemish in their liues to worke on. But Ile bee plainer with you: had the people [155] Bin learnd to speake, but what euen now I saw, Their malice out of that would raise an engine To ouerthrow your honor. In my fight (With yonder pointed foole I frighted from you) You vs’d familiarity beyond [160] A modest entertaynment: you embrac’d him With too much ardor for a stranger, and Met him with kisses neyther chaste nor comely: But learne you to forget him, as I will Your bounties to him, you will find it safer [165] Rather to be vncourtly, then immodest.

Beau. This prety rag about your necke shews well, And being coorse and little worth, it speakes you, As terrible as thrifty.

Rom. Madam.

Beau. Yes. And this strong belt in which you hang your honor [170] Will out-last twenty scarfs.

Rom. What meane you, Lady?

Beau. And all else about you Cap a pe So vniforme in spite of handsomnesse, Shews such a bold contempt of comelinesse, That tis not strange your Laundresse in the League, [175] Grew mad with loue of you.

Rom. Is my free counsayle Answerd with this ridiculous scorne?

Beau. These obiects Stole very much of my attention from me, Yet something I remember, to speake truth, Deceyued grauely, but to little purpose, [180] That almost would haue made me sweare, some Curate Had stolne into the person of Romont, And in the praise of goodwife honesty, Had read an homely.

Rom. By thy hand.

Beau. And sword, I will make vp your oath, twill want weight else. [185] You are angry with me, and poore I laugh at it. Do you come from the Campe, which affords onely The conuersation of cast suburbe whores, To set downe to a Lady of my ranke, Lymits of entertainment? [190]

Rom. Sure a Legion has possest this woman.

Beau. One stampe more would do well: yet I desire not You should grow horne-mad, till you haue a wife. You are come to warme meate, and perhaps cleane linnen: Feed, weare it, and bee thankefull. For me, know, [195] That though a thousand watches were set on mee, And you the Master-spy, I yet would vse, The liberty that best likes mee. I will reuell, Feast, kisse, imbreace, perhaps grant larger fauours: Yet such as liue vpon my meanes, shall know [200] They must not murmur at it. If my Lord Bee now growne yellow, and has chose out you To serue his Iealouzy that way, tell him this, You haue something to informe him:

Exit Beau.

Rom. And I will. Beleeue it wicked one I will. Heare, Heauen, [205] But hearing pardon mee: if these fruts grow Vpon the tree of marriage, let me shun it, As a forbidden sweete. An heyre and rich, Young, beautifull, yet adde to this a wife, And I will rather choose a Spittle sinner [210] Carted an age before, though three parts rotten, And take it for a blessing, rather then Be fettered to the hellish slauery Of such an impudence.

Enter Baumont with writings.

Bau. Collonell, good fortune To meet you thus: you looke sad, but Ile tell you [215] Something that shall remoue it. Oh how happy Is my Lord Charaloys in his faire bride!

Rom. A happy man indeede!—pray you in what?

Bau. I dare sweare, you would thinke so good a Lady, A dower sufficient.

Rom. No doubt. But on. [220]

Bau. So faire, so chaste, so vertuous: so indeed All that is excellent.

Rom. Women haue no cunning To gull the world.

Bau. Yet to all these, my Lord Her father giues the full addition of All he does now possesse in Burgundy: [225] These writings to confirme it, are new seal’d And I most fortunate to present him with them, I must goe seeke him out, can you direct mee?

Rom. You’l finde him breaking a young horse.

Bau. I thanke you.

Exit Baumont.

Rom. I must do something worthy Charaloys friendship. [230] If she were well inclin’d to keepe her so, Deseru’d not thankes: and yet to stay a woman Spur’d headlong by hot lust, to her owne ruine, Is harder then to prop a falling towre With a deceiuing reed.

Enter Rochfort.

Roch. Some one seeke for me, [235] As soone as he returnes.

Rom. Her father! ha? How if I breake this to him? sure it cannot Meete with an ill construction. His wisedome Made powerfull by the authority of a father, Will warrant and giue priuiledge to his counsailes. [240] It shall be so—my Lord.

Roch. Your friend Romont: Would you ought with me?

Rom. I stand so engag’d To your so many fauours, that I hold it A breach in thankfulnesse, should I not discouer, Though with some imputation to my selfe, [245] All doubts that may concerne you.

Roch. The performance Will make this protestation worth my thanks.

Rom. Then with your patience lend me your attention For what I must deliuer, whispered onely You will with too much griefe receiue.

Enter Beaumelle, Bellapert.

Beau. See wench! [250] Vpon my life as I forespake, hee’s now Preferring his complaint: but be thou perfect, And we will fit him.

Bell. Feare not mee, pox on him: A Captaine turne Informer against kissing? Would he were hang’d vp in his rusty Armour: [255] But if our fresh wits cannot turne the plots Of such a mouldy murrion on it selfe; Rich cloathes, choyse faire, and a true friend at a call, With all the pleasures the night yeelds, forsake vs.

Roch. This in my daughter? doe not wrong her.

Bell. Now. [260] Begin. The games afoot, and wee in distance.

Beau. Tis thy fault, foolish girle, pinne on my vaile, I will not weare those iewels. Am I not Already matcht beyond my hopes? yet still You prune and set me forth, as if I were [265] Againe to please a suyter.

Bell. Tis the course That our great Ladies take.

Rom. A weake excuse.

Beau. Those that are better seene, in what concernes A Ladies honour and faire same, condemne it. You waite well, in your absence, my Lords friend [270] The vnderstanding, graue and wise Romont.

Rom. Must I be still her sport?

Beau. Reproue me for it. And he has traueld to bring home a iudgement Not to be contradicted. You will say My father, that owes more to yeeres then he, [275] Has brought me vp to musique, language, Courtship, And I must vse them. True, but not t’offend, Or render me suspected.

Roch. Does your fine story Begin from this?

Beau. I thought a parting kisse From young Nouall, would haue displeasd no more [280] Then heretofore it hath done; but I finde I must restrayne such fauours now; looke therefore As you are carefull to continue mine, That I no more be visited. Ile endure The strictest course of life that iealousie [285] Can thinke secure enough, ere my behauiour Shall call my fame in question.

Rom. Ten dissemblers Are in this subtile deuill. You beleeue this?

Roch. So farre that if you trouble me againe With a report like this, I shall not onely [290] Iudge you malicious in your disposition, But study to repent what I haue done To such a nature.

Rom. Why, ’tis exceeding well.

Roch. And for you, daughter, off with this, off with it: I haue that confidence in your goodnesse, I, [295] That I will not consent to haue you liue Like to a Recluse in a cloyster: goe Call in the gallants, let them make you merry, Vse all fit liberty.

Bell. Blessing on you. If this new preacher with the sword and feather [300] Could proue his doctrine for Canonicall, We should haue a fine world.

Exit Bellapert.

Roch. Sir, if you please To beare your selfe as fits a Gentleman, The house is at your seruice: but if not, Though you seeke company else where, your absence [305] Will not be much lamented—

Exit Rochfort.

Rom. If this be The recompence of striuing to preserue A wanton gigglet honest, very shortly ’Twill make all mankinde Panders—Do you smile, Good Lady Loosenes? your whole sex is like you, [310] And that man’s mad that seekes to better any: What new change haue you next?

Beau. Oh, feare not you, sir, Ile shift into a thousand, but I will Conuert your heresie.

Rom. What heresie? Speake.

Beau. Of keeping a Lady that is married, [315] From entertayning seruants.—

Enter Nouall Iu. Malatine, Liladam, Aymer, Pontalier.

O, you are welcome, Vae any meanes to vexe him, And then with welcome follow me.

Exit Beau

Nou. You are tyr’d With your graue exhortations, Collonell.

Lilad. How is it? Fayth, your Lordship may doe well, [320] To helpe him to some Church-preferment: ’tis Now the fashion, for men of all conditions, How euer they haue liu’d; to end that way.

Aym. That face would doe well in a surplesse.

Rom. Rogues, Be silent—or—

Pont. S’death will you suffer this? [325]

Rom. And you, the master Rogue, the coward rascall, I shall be with you suddenly.

Nou. Pontallier, If I should strike him, I know I shall kill him: And therefore I would haue thee beate him, for Hee’s good for nothing else.

Lilad. His backe [330] Appeares to me, as it would tire a Beadle, And then he has a knotted brow, would bruise A courtlike hand to touch it.

Aym. Hee lookes like A Curryer when his hides grown deare.

Pont. Take heede He curry not some of you.

Nou. Gods me, hee’s angry. [335]

Rom. I breake no Iests, but I can breake my sword About your pates.

Enter Charaloyes and Baumont.

Lilad. Heeres more.

Aym. Come let’s bee gone, Wee are beleaguerd.

Nou. Looke they bring vp their troups.

Pont. Will you sit downe With this disgrace? You are abus’d most grosely. [340]

Lilad. I grant you, Sir, we are, and you would haue vs Stay and be more abus’d.

Nou. My Lord, I am sorry, Your house is so inhospitable, we must quit it.

Exeunt. Manent. Char. Rom.

Cha. Prethee Romont, what caus’d this vprore?

Rom. Nothing. They laugh’d and vs’d their scuruy wits vpon mee. [345]

Char. Come, tis thy Iealous nature: but I wonder That you which are an honest man and worthy, Should softer this suspition: no man laughes; No one can whisper, but thou apprehend’st His conference and his scorne reflects on thee: [350] For my part they should scoffe their thin wits out, So I not heard ’em, beate me, not being there. Leaue, leaue these fits, to conscious men, to such As are obnoxious, to those foolish things As they can gibe at.

Rom. Well, Sir.

Char. Thou art know’n [355] Valiant without detect, right defin’d Which is (as fearing to doe iniury, As tender to endure it) not a brabbler, A swearer.

Rom. Pish, pish, what needs this my Lord? If I be knowne none such, how vainly, you [360] Do cast away good counsaile? I haue lou’d you, And yet must freely speake; so young a tutor, Fits not so old a Souldier as I am. And I must tell you, t’was in your behalfe I grew inraged thus, yet had rather dye, [365] Then open the great cause a syllable further.

Cha. In my behalfe? wherein hath Charalois Vnfitly so demean’d himselfe, to giue The least occasion to the loosest tongue, To throw aspersions on him, or so weakely [370] Protected his owne honor, as it should Need a defence from any but himselfe? They are fools that iudge me by my outward seeming, Why should my gentlenesse beget abuse? The Lion is not angry that does sleepe [375] Nor euery man a Coward that can weepe. For Gods sake speake the cause.

Rom. Not for the world. Oh it will strike disease into your bones Beyond the cure of physicke, drinke your blood, Rob you of all your rest, contract your sight, [380] Leaue you no eyes but to see misery, And of your owne, nor speach but to wish thus Would I had perish’d in the prisons iawes: From whence I was redeem’d! twill weare you old, Before you haue experience in that Art, [385] That causes your affliction.

Cha. Thou dost strike A deathfull coldnesse to my hearts high heate, And shrinkst my liuer like the Calenture. Declare this foe of mine, and lifes, that like A man I may encounter and subdue it [390] It shall not haue one such effect in mee, As thou denouncest: with a Souldiers arme, If it be strength, Ile meet it: if a fault Belonging to my mind, Ile cut it off With mine owne reason, as a Scholler should [395] Speake, though it make mee monstrous.

Rom. Ile dye first. Farewell, continue merry, and high Heauen Keepe your wife chaste.

Char. Hump, stay and take this wolfe Out of my brest, that thou hast lodg’d there, or For euer lose mee.

Rom. Lose not, Sir, your selfe. [400] And I will venture—So the dore is fast. (Locke the dore. Now noble Charaloys, collect your selfe, Summon your spirits, muster all your strength That can belong to man, sift passion, From euery veine, and whatsoeuer ensues, [405] Vpbraid not me heereafter, as the cause of Iealousy, discontent, slaughter and ruine: Make me not parent to sinne: you will know This secret that I burne with.

Char. Diuell on’t, What should it be? Romont, I heare you wish [410] My wifes continuance of Chastity.

Rom. There was no hurt in that.

Char. Why? do you know A likelyhood or possibility vnto the contrarie?

Rom. I know it not, but doubt it, these the grounds The seruant of your wife now young Nouall, [415] The sonne vnto your fathers Enemy (Which aggrauates my presumption the more) I haue been warnd of, touching her, nay, seene them Tye heart to heart, one in anothers armes, Multiplying kisses, as if they meant [420] To pose Arithmeticke, or whose eyes would Bee first burnt out, with gazing on the others. I saw their mouthes engender, and their palmes Glew’d, as if Loue had lockt them, their words flow And melt each others, like two circling flames, [425] Where chastity, like a Phoenix (me thought) burn’d, But left the world nor ashes, nor an heire. Why stand you silent thus? what cold dull flegme, As if you had no drop of choller mixt In your whole constitution, thus preuailes, [430] To fix you now, thus stupid hearing this?

Cha. You did not see ’em on my Couch within, Like George a horse-backe on her, nor a bed?

Rom. Noe.

Cha. Ha, ha.

Rom. Laugh yee? eene so did your wife, And her indulgent father.

Cha. They were wife. [435] Wouldst ha me be a foole?

Rom. No, but a man.

Cha. There is no dramme of manhood to suspect, On such thin ayrie circumstance as this Meere complement and courtship. Was this tale The hydeous monster which you so conceal’d? [440] Away, thou curious impertinent And idle searcher of such leane nice toyes. Goe, thou sedicious sower of debate: Fly to such matches, where the bridegroome doubts: He holds not worth enough to counteruaile [445] The vertue and the beauty of his wife. Thou buzzing drone that ’bout my eares dost hum, To strike thy rankling sting into my heart, Whose vemon, time, nor medicine could asswage. Thus doe I put thee off, and confident [450] In mine owne innocency, and desert, Dare not conceiue her so vnreasonable, To put Nouall in ballance against me, An vpstart cran’d vp to the height he has. Hence busiebody, thou’rt no friend to me, [455] That must be kept to a wiues iniury,

Rom. Ist possible? farewell, fine, honest man, Sweet temper’d Lord adieu: what Apoplexy Hath knit fence vp? Is this Romonts reward? Beare witnes the great spirit of my father, [460] With what a healthfull hope I administer This potion that hath wrought so virulently, I not accuse thy wife of act, but would Preuent her Praecipuce, to thy dishonour, Which now thy tardy sluggishnesse will admit. [465] Would I had seene thee grau’d with thy great Sire, Ere liue to haue mens marginall fingers point At Charaloys, as a lamented story. An Emperour put away his wife for touching Another man, but thou wouldst haue thine tasted [470] And keepe her (I thinke.) Puffe. I am a fire To warme a dead man, that waste out myselfe. Bleed—what a plague, a vengeance i’st to mee, If you will be a Cuckold? Heere I shew A swords point to thee, this side you may shun, [475] Or that: the perrill, if you will runne on, I cannot helpe it.

Cha. Didst thou neuer see me Angry, Romont?

Rom. Yes, and pursue a foe Like lightening

Char. Prethee see me so no more. I can be so againe. Put vp thy sword, [480] And take thy selfe away, lest I draw mine.

Rom. Come fright your foes with this: sir, I am your friend, And dare stand by you thus.

Char. Thou art not my friend, Or being so, thou art mad, I must not buy Thy friendship at this rate; had I iust cause, [485] Thou knowst I durst pursue such iniury Through fire, ayre, water, earth, nay, were they all Shuffled againe to Chaos, but ther’s none. Thy skill, Romont, consists in camps, not courts. Farewell, vnciuill man, let’s meet no more. [490] Heere our long web of friendship I vntwist. Shall I goe whine, walke pale, and locke my wife For nothing, from her births free liberty, That open’d mine to me? yes; if I doe The name of cuckold then, dog me with scorne. [495] I am a Frenchman, no Italian borne.

Exit.

Rom. A dull Dutch rather: fall and coole (my blood) Boyle not in zeal of thy friends hurt, so high, That is so low, and cold himselfe in’t. Woman, How strong art thou, how easily beguild? [500] How thou dost racke vs by the very hornes? Now wealth I see change manners and the man: Something I must doe mine owne wrath to asswage, And note my friendship to an after-age.

Exit.

Actus quartus.

Scaena prima.

[A Room in Nouall’s House]

Enter Nouall Iunior, as newly dressed, a Taylor, Barber, Perfumer, Liladam, Aymour, Page.

Nou. Mend this a little: pox! thou hast burnt me. oh

Perf. Oh sweet Lord! [5]

Nouall sits in a chaire,

Page. That’s his Perfumer.

Barber orders his haire,

Tayl. Oh deare Lord,

Perfumer giues powder,

Page. That’s his Taylor.

Taylor sets his clothese.

Nou. Monsieur Liladam, Aymour, how allow you the modell of these clothes? [10]

Aym. Admirably, admirably, oh sweet Lord! assuredly it’s pity the wormes should eate thee.

Page. Here’s a fine Cell; a Lord, a Taylor, a Perfumer, a Barber, and a paire of Mounsieurs: 3 to 3, as little will in the one, as honesty in the other. S’foote ile into the country againe, [15] learne to speake truth, drinke Ale, and conuerse with my fathers Tenants; here I heare nothing all day, but vpon my soule as I am a Gentleman, and an honest man.

Aym. I vow and affirme, your Taylor must needs be an expert [20] Geometrician, he has the Longitude, Latitude, Altitude, Profundity, euery Demension of your body, so exquisitely, here’s a lace layd as directly, as if truth were a Taylor.

Page. That were a miracle. [25]

Lila. With a haire breadth’s errour, ther’s a shoulder piece cut, and the base of a pickadille in puncto.

Aym. You are right, Mounsieur his vestaments fit: as if they grew vpon him, or art had wrought ’em on the same loome, as nature fram’d his Lordship as if your Taylor were [30] deepely read in Astrology, and had taken measure of your honourable body, with a Iacobs staffe, an Ephimerides.

Tayl. I am bound t’ee Gentlemen.

Page. You are deceiu’d, they’ll be bound to you, you must [35] remember to trust ’em none.

Nou. Nay, fayth, thou art a reasonable neat Artificer, giue the diuell his due.

Page. I, if hee would but cut the coate according to the cloth still. [40]

Nou. I now want onely my misters approbation, who is indeed, the most polite punctuall Queene of dressing in all Burgundy. Pah, and makes all other young Ladies appeare, as if they came from boord last weeke out of the country, Is’t not true, Liladam? [45]

Lila. True my Lord, as if any thing your Lordship could say, could be othewrise

Nou. Nay, a my soule, ’tis so, what fouler obiect in the world, then to see a young faire, handsome beauty, vnhandsomely dighted and incongruently accoutred; or a hopefull [50] Cheualier, vnmethodically appointed, in the externall ornaments of nature? For euen as the Index tels vs the contents of stories, and directs to the particular Chapters, euen so does the outward habit and superficiall order of garments (in man or woman) giue vs a tast of the spirit, and demonstratiuely [55] poynt (as it were a manuall note from the margin) all the internall quality, and habiliment of the soule, and there cannot be a more euident, palpable, grosse manifestation of poore degenerate dunghilly blood, and breeding, then rude, vnpolish’d, disordered and slouenly outside. [60]

Page. An admirable! lecture. Oh all you gallants, that hope to be saued by your cloathes, edify, edify.

Aym. By the Lard, sweet Lard, thou deseru’st a pension o’ the State.

Page. O th’ Taylors, two such Lords were able to spread [65] Taylors ore the face of a whole kingdome.

Nou. Pox a this glasse! it flatters, I could find in my heart to breake it.

Page. O saue the glasse my Lord, and breake their heads, they are the greater flatterers I assure you. [70]

Aym. Flatters, detracts, impayres, yet put it by, Lest thou deare Lord (Narcissus-like) should doate Vpon thyselfe, and dye; and rob the world Of natures copy, that she workes forme by.

Lila. Oh that I were the Infanta Queene of Europe, [75] Who (but thy selfe sweete Lord) shouldst marry me.

Nou. I marry? were there a Queene oth’ world, not I. Wedlocke? no padlocke, horselocke, I weare spurrs (He capers. To keepe it off my heeles; yet my Aymour, Like a free wanton iennet i’th meddows, [80] I looke aboute, and neigh, take hedge and ditch, Feede in my neighbours pastures, picke my choyce Of all their faire-maind-mares: but married once, A man is stak’d, or pown’d, and cannot graze Beyond his owne hedge.

Enter Pontalier, and Malotin.

Pont. I haue waited, sir, [85] Three hours to speake w’ee, and not take it well, Such magpies are admitted, whilst I daunce Attendance.

Lila. Magpies? what d’ee take me for?

Pont. A long thing with a most vnpromising face.

Aym. I’ll ne’re aske him what he takes me for?

Mal. Doe not, sir, [90] For hee’l goe neere to tell you.

Pont. Art not thou A Barber Surgeon?

Barb. Yes sira why.

Pont. My Lord is sorely troubled with two scabs.

Lila. Aym. Humph—

Pont. I prethee cure him of ’em.

Nou. Pish: no more, [95] Thy gall sure’s ouer throwne; these are my Councell, And we were now in serious discourse.

Pont. Of perfume and apparell, can you rise And spend 5 houres in dressing talke, with these?

Nou. Thou ’idst haue me be a dog: vp, stretch and shake, [100] And ready for all day.

Pont. Sir, would you be More curious in preseruing of your honour. Trim, ’twere more manly. I am come to wake Your reputation, from this lethargy You let it sleep in, to perswade, importune, [105] Nay, to prouoke you, sir, to call to account This Collonell Romont, for the foule wrong Which like a burthen, he hath layd on you, And like a drunken porter, you sleepe vnder. ’Tis all the towne talkes, and beleeue, sir, [110] If your tough sense persist thus, you are vndone, Vtterly lost, you will be scornd and baffled By euery Lacquay; season now your youth, With one braue thing, and it shall keep the odour Euen to your death, beyond, and on your Tombe, [115] Sent like sweet oyles and Frankincense; sir, this life Which once you sau’d, I ne’re since counted mine, I borrow’d it of you; and now will pay it; I tender you the seruice of my sword To beare your challenge, if you’ll write, your fate: [120] Ile make mine owne: what ere betide you, I That haue liu’d by you, by your side will dye.

Nou. Ha, ha, would’st ha’ me challenge poore Romont? Fight with close breeches, thou mayst think I dare not. Doe not mistake me (cooze) I am very valiant, [125] But valour shall not make me such an Asse. What vse is there of valour (now a dayes?) ’Tis sure, or to be kill’d, or to be hang’d. Fight thou as thy minde moues thee, ’tis thy trade, Thou hast nothing else to doe; fight with Romont? [130] No i’le not fight vnder a Lord.

Pont. Farewell, sir, I pitty you. Such louing Lords walke their dead honours graues, For no companions fit, but fooles and knaues. Come Malotin.

Exeunt Pont. Mal.

Enter Romont.

Lila. ’Sfoot, Colbran, the low gyant. [135]

Aym. He has brought a battaile in his face, let’s goe.

Page. Colbran d’ee call him? hee’l make some of you smoake, I beleeue.

Rom. By your leaue, sirs.

Aym. Are you a Consort?

Rom. D’ee take mee For a fidler? ya’re deceiu’d: Looke. Ile pay you.

Kickes ’em.

Page. It seemes he knows you one, he bumfiddles you so. [140]

Lila. Was there euer so base a fellow?

Aym. A rascall?

Lila. A most vnciuill Groome?

Aym. Offer to kicke a Gentleman, in a Noblemans chamber? A pox of your manners. [145]

Lila. Let him alone, let him alone, thou shalt lose thy arme, fellow: if we stirre against thee, hang vs.

Page. S’foote, I thinke they haue the better on him, though they be kickd, they talke so.

Lila. Let’s leaue the mad Ape. [150]

Nou. Gentlemen.

Lilad. Nay, my Lord, we will not offer to dishonour you so much as to stay by you, since hee’s alone.

Nou. Harke you.

Aym. We doubt the cause, and will not disparage you, so [155] much as to take your Lordships quarrel in hand. Plague on him, how he has crumpled our bands.

Page. Ile eene away with ’em, for this souldier beates man, woman, and child.

Exeunt. Manent Nou. Rom.

Nou. What meane you, sir? My people.

Rom. Your boye’s gone. (Lockes the doore. [160] And doore’s lockt, yet for no hurt to you, But priuacy: call vp your blood againe, sir, Be not affraid, I do beseach you, sir, (And therefore come) without, more circumstance Tell me how farre the passages haue gone [165] ’Twixt you and your faire Mistresse Beaumelle, Tell me the truth, and by my hope of Heauen It neuer shall goe further.

Nou. Tell you why sir? Are you my confessor?

Rom. I will be your confounder, if you doe not. (Drawes a pocket dag. [170] Stirre not, nor spend your voyce.

Nou. What will you doe?

Rom. Nothing but lyne your brayne-pan, sir, with lead, If you not satisfie me suddenly, I am desperate of my life, and command yours.

Nou. Hold, hold, ile speake. I vow to heauen and you, [175] Shee’s yet vntouch’t, more then her face and hands: I cannot call her innocent; for I yeeld On my sollicitous wrongs she consented Where time and place met oportunity To grant me all requests.

Rom. But may I build [180] On this assurance?

Nou. As vpon your fayth.

Rom. Write this, sir, nay you must.

Drawes Inkehorne and paper.

Nou. Pox of this Gunne.

Rom. Withall, sir, you must sweare, and put your oath Vnder your hand, (shake not) ne’re to frequent This Ladies company, nor euer send [185] Token, or message, or letter, to incline This (too much prone already) yeelding Lady.

Nou. ’Tis done, sir.

Rom. Let me see, this first is right, And heere you wish a sudden death may light Vpon your body, and hell take your soule, [190] If euer more you see her, but by chance, Much lesse allure. Now, my Lord, your hand.

Nou. My hand to this?

Rom. Your heart else I assure you.

Nou. Nay, there ’tis.

Rom. So keepe this last article Of your fayth giuen, and stead of threatnings, sir, [195] The seruice of my sword and life is yours: But not a word of it, ’tis Fairies treasure; Which but reueal’d, brings on the blabbers, ruine. Vse your youth better, and this excellent forme Heauen hath bestowed vpon you. So good morrow to your Lordship. [200]

Nou. Good diuell to your rogueship. No man’s safe: Ile haue a Cannon planted in my chamber, (Exit. Against such roaring roagues.

Enter Bellapert.

Bell. My Lord away The Coach stayes: now haue your wish, and iudge, If I haue been forgetfull.

Nou. Ha?

Bell. D’ee stand [205] Humming and hawing now?

Exit.

Nou. Sweet wench, I come. Hence feare, I swore, that’s all one, my next oath ’ile keepe That I did meane to breake, and then ’tis quit. No paine is due to louers periury. [210] If loue himselfe laugh at it, so will I.

Exit Nouall.

Scaena 2.

Enter Charaloys, Baumont.

[An outer Room in Aymer’s House]

Bau. I grieue for the distaste, though I haue manners, Not to inquire the cause, falne out betweene Your Lordship and Romont.

Cha. I loue a friend, So long as he continues in the bounds Prescrib’d by friendship, but when he vsurpes [5] Too farre on what is proper to my selfe, And puts the habit of a Gouernor on, I must and will preserue my liberty. But speake of something, else this is a theame I take no pleasure in: what’s this Aymeire, [10] Whose voyce for Song, and excellent knowledge in The chiefest parts of Musique, you bestow Such prayses on?

Bau. He is a Gentleman, (For so his quality speakes him) well receiu’d Among our greatest Gallants; but yet holds [15] His maine dependance from the young Lord Nouall: Some tricks and crotchets he has in his head, As all Musicians haue, and more of him I dare not author: but when you haue heard him, I may presume, your Lordship so will like him, [20] That you’l hereafter be a friend to Musique.

Cha. I neuer was an enemy to’t, Baumont, Nor yet doe I subscribe to the opinion Of those old Captaines, that thought nothing musicall, But cries of yeelding enemies, neighing of horses, [25] Clashing of armour, lowd shouts, drums, and trumpets: Nor on the other side in fauour of it, Affirme the world was made by musicall discord, Or that the happinesse of our life consists In a well varied note vpon the Lute: [30] I loue it to the worth of it, and no further. But let vs see this wonder.

Bau. He preuents My calling of him.

Aym. Let the Coach be brought (Enter Aymiere. To the backe gate, and serue the banquet vp: My good Lord Charalois, I thinke my house [35] Much honor’d in your presence.

Cha. To haue meanes To know you better, sir, has brought me hither A willing visitant, and you’l crowne my welcome In making me a witnesse to your skill, Which crediting from others I admire. [40]

Aym. Had I beene one houre sooner made acquainted With your intent my Lord, you should haue found me Better prouided: now such as it is, Pray you grace with your acceptance.

Bau. You are modest. Begin the last new ayre.

Cha. Shall we not see them? [45]

Aym. This little distance from the instruments Will to your eares conuey the harmony With more delight.

Cha. Ile not consent.

Aym. Y’are tedious, By this meanes shall I with one banquet please Two companies, those within and these Guls heere. [50]

Song aboue.

Musique and a Song, Beaumelle within—ha, ha, ha.

Cha. How’s this? It is my Ladies laugh! most certaine When I first pleas’d her, in this merry language, She gaue me thanks.

Bau. How like you this?

Cha. ’Tis rare, Yet I may be deceiu’d, and should be sorry [55] Vpon vncertaine suppositions, rashly To write my selfe in the blacke list of those I haue declaym’d against, and to Romont.

Aym. I would he were well of—perhaps your Lordship Likes not these sad tunes, I haue a new Song [60] Set to a lighter note, may please you better; Tis cal’d The happy husband.

Cha. Pray sing it.

Song below. At the end of the Song, Beaumelle within.

Beau. Ha, ha, ’tis such a groome.

Cha. Doe I heare this, And yet stand doubtfull?

Exit Chara.

Aym. Stay him I am vndone, And they discouered.

Bau. Whats the matter?

Aym. Ah! [65] That women, when they are well pleas’d, cannot hold, But must laugh out.

Enter Nouall Iu. Charaloys, Beaumley, Bellapert.

Nou. Helpe, saue me, murrher

Beau. Vndone foreuer.

Cha. Oh, my heart! Hold yet a little—doe not hope to scape By flight, it is impossible: though I might [70] On all aduantage take thy life, and iustly; This sword, my fathers sword, that nere was drawne, But to a noble purpose, shall not now Doe th’ office of a hangman, I reserue it To right mine honour, not for a reuenge [75] So poore, that though with thee, it should cut off Thy family, with all that are allyed To thee in lust, or basenesse, ’twere still short of All termes of satisfaction. Draw.

Nou. I dare not, I haue already done you too much wrong, [80] To fight in such a cause.

Cha. Why, darest thou neyther Be honest, coward, nor yet valiant, knaue? In such a cause come doe not shame thy selfe: Such whose bloods wrongs, or wrong done to themselues Could neuer heate, are yet in the defence [85] Of their whores, daring looke on her againe. You thought her worth the hazard of your soule, And yet stand doubtfull in her quarrell, to Venture your body.

Bau. No, he feares his cloaths, More then his flesh

Cha. Keepe from me, garde thy life, [90] Or as thou hast liu’d like a goate, thou shalt Dye like a sheepe.

Nou. Since ther’s no remedy (They fight, Nouall is slaine. Despaire of safety now in me proue courage.

Cha. How soone weak wrong’s or’throwne! lend me your hand, Beare this to the Caroach—come, you haue taught me [95] To say you must and shall: I wrong you not, Y’are but to keepe him company you loue. Is’t done? ’tis well. Raise officers, and take care, All you can apprehend within the house May be forth comming. Do I appeare much mou’d? [100]

Bau. No, sir.

Cha. My griefes are now, Thus to be borne. Hereafter ile finde time and place to mourne.

Exeunt.

Scaena 3.

Enter Romont, Pontalier.

[A Street]

Pont. I was bound to seeke you, sir.

Rom. And had you found me In any place, but in the streete, I should Haue done,—not talk’d to you. Are you the Captaine? The hopefull Pontalier? whom I haue seene Doe in the field such seruice, as then made you [5] Their enuy that commanded, here at home To play the parasite to a gilded knaue, And it may be the Pander.

Pont. Without this I come to call you to account, for what Is past already. I by your example [10] Of thankfulnesse to the dead Generall By whom you were rais’d, haue practis’d to be so To my good Lord Nouall, by whom I liue; Whose least disgrace that is, or may be offred, With all the hazzard of my life and fortunes, [15] I will make good on you, or any man, That has a hand in’t; and since you allowe me A Gentleman and a souldier, there’s no doubt You will except against me. You shall meete With a faire enemy, you vnderstand [20] The right I looke for, and must haue.

Rom. I doe, And with the next dayes sunne you shall heare from me.

Exeunt.

Scaena 4.

Enter Charalois with a casket, Beaumelle, Baumont.

[A Room in Charalois’ House]

Cha. Pray beare this to my father, at his leasure He may peruse it: but with your best language Intreat his instant presence: you haue sworne Not to reueale what I haue done.

Bau. Nor will I— But—

Cha. Doubt me not, by Heauen, I will doe nothing [5] But what may stand with honour: Pray you leaue me To my owne thoughts. If this be to me, rise; I am not worthy the looking on, but onely To feed contempt and scorne, and that from you Who with the losse of your faire name haue caus’d it, [10] Were too much cruelty.

Beau. I dare not moue you To heare me speake. I know my fault is farre Beyond qualification, or excuse, That ’tis not fit for me to hope, or you To thinke of mercy; onely I presume [15] To intreate, you would be pleas’d to looke vpon My sorrow for it, and beleeue, these teares Are the true children of my griefe and not A womans cunning.

Cha. Can you Beaumelle, Hauing deceiued so great a trust as mine, [20] Though I were all credulity, hope againe To get beleefe? no, no, if you looke on me With pity or dare practise any meanes To make my sufferings lesse, or giue iust cause To all the world, to thinke what I must doe [25] Was cal’d vpon by you, vse other waies, Deny what I haue seene, or iustifie What you haue done, and as you desperately Made shipwracke of your fayth to be a whore, Vse th’ armes of such a one, and such defence, [30] And multiply the sinne, with impudence, Stand boldly vp, and tell me to my teeth, You haue done but what’s warranted, By great examples, in all places, where Women inhabit, vrge your owne deserts, [35] Or want of me in merit; tell me how, Your dowre from the lowe gulfe of pouerty, Weighed vp my fortunes, to what now they are: That I was purchas’d by your choyse and practise To shelter you from shame: that you might sinne [40] As boldly as securely, that poore men Are married to those wiues that bring them wealth, One day their husbands, but obseruers euer: That when by this prou’d vsage you haue blowne The fire of my iust vengeance to the height, [45] I then may kill you: and yet say ’twas done In heate of blood, and after die my selfe, To witnesse my repentance.

Beau. O my fate, That neuer would consent that I should see, How worthy thou wert both of loue and duty [50] Before I lost you; and my misery made The glasse, in which I now behold your vertue: While I was good, I was a part of you, And of two, by the vertuous harmony Of our faire minds, made one; but since I wandred [55] In the forbidden Labyrinth of lust, What was inseparable, is by me diuided. With iustice therefore you may cut me off, And from your memory, wash the remembrance That ere I was like to some vicious purpose [60] Within your better iudgement, you repent of And study to forget.

Cha. O Beaumelle, That you can speake so well, and doe so ill! But you had been too great a blessing, if You had continued chast: see how you force me [65] To this, because my honour will not yeeld That I againe should loue you.

Beau. In this life It is not fit you should: yet you shall finde, Though I was bold enough to be a strumpet, I dare not yet liue one: let those fam’d matrones [70] That are canoniz’d worthy of our sex, Transcend me in their sanctity of life, I yet will equall them in dying nobly, Ambitious of no honour after life, But that when I am dead, you will forgiue me. [75]

Cha. How pity steales vpon me! should I heare her But ten words more, I were lost—one knocks, go in.

Knock within. Exit Beaumelle. Enter Rochfort.

That to be mercifull should be a sinne. O, sir, most welcome. Let me take your cloake, I must not be denyed—here are your robes, [80] As you loue iustice once more put them on: There is a cause to be determind of That doe’s require such an integrity, As you haue euer vs’d—ile put you to The tryall of your constancy, and goodnesse: [85] And looke that you that haue beene Eagle-eyd In other mens affaires, proue not a Mole In what concernes your selfe. Take you your seate: I will be for you presently.

Exit.

Roch. Angels guard me, To what strange Tragedy does this destruction [90] Serue for a Prologue?

Enter Charaloys with Nouals body. Beaumelle, Baumont.

Cha. So, set it downe before The Iudgement seate, and stand you at the bar: For me? I am the accuser.

Roch. Nouall slayne, And Beaumelle my daughter in the place Of one to be arraign’d.

Cha. O, are you touch’d? [95] I finde that I must take another course, Feare nothing. I will onely blind your eyes, For Iustice should do so, when ’tis to meete An obiect that may sway her equall doome From what it should be aim’d at.—Good my Lord, [100] A day of hearing.

Roch. It is granted, speake— You shall haue iustice.

Cha. I then here accuse, Most equall Iudge, the prisoner your faire Daughter, For whom I owed so much to you: your daughter, So worthy in her owne parts: and that worth [105] Set forth by yours, to whose so rare perfections, Truth witnesse with me, in the place of seruice I almost pay’d Idolatrous sacrifice To be a false advltresse.

Roch. With whom?

Cha. With this Nouall here dead.

Roch. Be wel aduis’d [110] And ere you say adultresse againe, Her fame depending on it, be most sure That she is one.

Cha. I tooke them in the act. I know no proofe beyond it.

Roch. O my heart.

Cha. A Iudge should feele no passions.

Roch. Yet remember [115] He is a man, and cannot put off nature. What answere makes the prisoner?

Beau. I confesse The fact I am charg’d with, and yeeld my selfe Most miserably guilty.

Roch. Heauen take mercy Vpon your soule then: it must leaue your body. [120] Now free mine eyes, I dare vnmou’d looke on her, And fortifie my sentence, with strong reasons. Since that the politique law prouides that seruants, To whose care we commit our goods shall die, If they abuse our trust: what can you looke for, [125] To whose charge this most hopefull Lord gaue vp All he receiu’d from his braue Ancestors, Or he could leaue to his posterity? His Honour, wicked woman, in whose safety All his lifes ioyes, and comforts were locked vp, [130] With thy lust, a theefe hath now stolne from him, And therefore—

Cha. Stay, iust Iudge, may not what’s lost By her owne fault, (for I am charitable, And charge her not with many) be forgotten In her faire life hereafter?

Roch. Neuer, Sir. [135] The wrong that’s done to the chaste married bed, Repentant teares can neuer expiate, And be assured, to pardon such a sinne, Is an offence as great as to commit it.

Cha. I may not then forgiue her.

Roch. Nor she hope it. [140] Nor can she wish to liue no sunne shall rise, But ere it set, shall shew her vgly lust In a new shape, and euery on more horrid: Nay, euen those prayers, which with such humble feruor She seemes to send vp yonder, are beate backe, [145] And all suites, which her penitance can proffer, As soone as made, are with contempt throwne Off all the courts of mercy.

He kills her.

Cha. Let her die then. Better prepar’d I am. Sure I could not take her, Nor she accuse her father, as a Iudge [150] Partiall against her.

Beau. I approue his sentence, And kisse the executioner; my lust Is now run from me in that blood; in which It was begot and nourished.

Roch. Is she dead then?

Cha. Yes, sir, this is her heart blood, is it not? [155] I thinke it be.

Roch. And you haue kild here?

Cha. True, And did it by your doome

Roch. But I pronounc’d it As a Iudge onely, and friend to iustice, And zealous in defence of your wrong’d honour, Broke all the tyes of nature: and cast off [160] The loue and soft affection of a father. I in your cause, put on a Scarlet robe Of red died cruelty, but in returne, You haue aduanc’d for me no flag of mercy: I look’d on you, as a wrong’d husband, but [165] You clos’d your eyes against me, as a father. O Beaumelle, my daughter.

Cha. This is madnesse.

Roch. Keepe from me—could not one good thought rise vp, To tell you that she was my ages comfort, Begot by a weake man, and borne a woman, [170] And could not therefore, but partake of frailety? Or wherefore did not thankfulnesse step forth, To vrge my many merits, which I may Obiect vnto you, since you proue vngratefull, Flinty-hearted Charaloys?

Cha. Nature does preuaile [175] Aboue your vertue.

Roch. No! it giues me eyes, To pierce the heart of designe against me. I finde it now, it was my state was aym’d at, A nobler match was fought for, and the houres I liu’d, grew teadious to you: my compassion [180] Towards you hath rendred me most miserable, And foolish charity vndone my selfe: But ther’s a Heauen aboue, from whose iust wreake No mists of policy can hide offendors.

Enter Nouall se. with Officers.

Nou. se. Force ope the doors—O monster, caniball, [185] Lay hold on him, my sonne, my sonne.—O Rochfort, ’Twas you gaue liberty to this bloody wolfe To worry all our comforts,—But this is No time to quarrell; now giue your assistance For the reuenge.

Roch. Call it a fitter name— [190] Iustice for innocent blood.

Cha. Though all conspire Against that life which I am weary of, A little longer yet ile striue to keepe it, To shew in spite of malice, and their lawes, His plea must speed that hath an honest cause. [195]

Exeunt

Actus quintus.

Scaena prima.

[A Street]

Enter Liladam, Taylor, Officers.

Lila Why ’tis both most vnconscionable, and vntimely T’arrest a gallant for his cloaths, before He has worne them out: besides you sayd you ask’d My name in my Lords bond but for me onely, And now you’l lay me vp for’t. Do not thinke [5] The taking measure of a customer By a brace of varlets, though I rather wait Neuer so patiently, will proue a fashion Which any Courtier or Innes of court man Would follow willingly.

Tayl. There I beleeue you. [10] But sir, I must haue present moneys, or Assurance to secure me, when I shall.— Or I will see to your comming forth.

Lila. Plague on’t, You haue prouided for my enterance in: That comming forth you talke of, concernes me. [15] What shall I doe? you haue done me a disgrace In the arrest, but more in giuing cause To all the street, to thinke I cannot stand Without these two supporters for my armes: Pray you let them loose me: for their satisfaction [20] I will not run away.

Tayl. For theirs you will not, But for your owne you would; looke to them fellows.

Lila. Why doe you call them fellows? doe not wrong Your reputation so, as you are meerely A Taylor, faythfull, apt to beleeue in Gallants [25] You are a companion at a ten crowne supper For cloth of bodkin, and may with one Larke Eate vp three manchets, and no man obserue you, Or call your trade in question for’t. But when You study your debt-booke, and hold correspondence [30] With officers of the hanger, and leaue swordmen, The learned conclude, the Taylor and Sergeant In the expression of a knaue are these To be Synonima. Looke therefore to it, And let vs part in peace, I would be loth [35] You should vndoe your selfe.

Tayl. To let you goe (Enter old Nouall, and Pontalier. Were the next way. But see! heeres your old Lord, Let him but giue his worde I shall be paide, And you are free.

Lila. S’lid, I will put him to’t: I can be but denied: or what say you? [40] His Lordship owing me three times your debt, If you arrest him at my suite, and let me Goe run before to see the action entred. ’Twould be a witty iest.

Tayl. I must haue ernest: I cannot pay my debts so.

Pont. Can your Lordship [45] Imagine, while I liue and weare a sword, Your sonnes death shall be reueng’d?

Nou. se. I know not One reason why you should not doe like others: I am sure, of all the herd that fed vpon him, I cannot see in any, now hee’s gone, [50] In pitty or in thankfulnesse one true signe Of sorrow for him.

Pont. All his bounties yet Fell not in such vnthankfull ground: ’tis true He had weakenesses, but such as few are free from, And though none sooth’d them lesse then I: for now [55] To say that I foresaw the dangers that Would rise from cherishing them, were but vntimely. I yet could wish the iustice that you seeke for In the reuenge, had been trusted to me, And not the vncertaine issue of the lawes: [60] ’Tas rob’d me of a noble testimony Of what I durst doe for him: but howeuer, My forfait life redeem’d by him though dead, Shall doe him seruice.

Nou. se. As farre as my griefe Will giue me leaue, I thanke you.

Lila. Oh my Lord, [65] Oh my good Lord, deliuer me from these furies.

Pont. Arrested? This is one of them whose base And obiect flattery helpt to digge his graue: He is not worth your pitty, nor my anger. Goe to the basket and repent.

Nou. se. Away [70] I onely know now to hate thee deadly: I will doe nothing for thee.

Lila. Nor you, Captaine.

Pont. No, to your trade againe, put off this case, It may be the discouering what you were, When your vnfortunate master tooke you vp, [75] May moue compassion in your creditor. Confesse the truth.

Exit Nouall se. Pont.

Lila. And now I thinke on’t better, I will, brother, your hand, your hand, sweet brother. I am of your sect, and my gallantry but a dreame, Out of which these two fearefull apparitions [80] Against my will haue wak’d me. This rich sword Grew suddenly out of a taylors bodkin; These hangers from my vailes and fees in Hell: And where as now this beauer sits, full often A thrifty cape compos’d of broad cloth lifts, [85] Nere kin vnto the cushion where I sate. Crosse-leg’d, and yet vngartred, hath beene seene, Our breakefasts famous for the buttred loaues, I haue with ioy bin oft acquainted with, And therefore vse a conscience, though it be [90] Forbidden in our hall towards other men, To me that as I haue beene, will againe Be of the brotherhood.

Offi. I know him now: He was a prentice to Le Robe at Orleance.

Lila. And from thence brought by my young Lord, now dead, [95] Vnto Dijon, and with him till this houre Hath bin receiu’d here for a compleate Mounsieur. Nor wonder at it: for but tythe our gallants, Euen those of the first ranke, and you will finde In euery ten, one: peraduenture two, [100] That smell ranke of the dancing schoole, or fiddle, The pantofle or pressing yron: but hereafter Weele talke of this. I will surrender vp My suites againe: there cannot be much losse, ’Tis but the turning of the lace, with ones [105] Additions more you know of, and what wants I will worke out.

Tayl. Then here our quarrell ends. The gallant is turn’d Taylor, and all friends.

Exeunt.

Scaena 2.

Enter Romont, Baumont.

[The Court of Justice]

Rom. You haue them ready.

Bau. Yes, and they will speake Their knowledg in this cause, when thou thinkst fit To haue them cal’d vpon.

Rom. ’Tis well, and something I can adde to their euidence, to proue This braue reuenge, which they would haue cal’d murther, [5] A noble Iustice.

Bau. In this you expresse (The breach by my Lords want of you, new made vp) A faythfull friend.

Rom. That friendship’s rays’d on sand, Which euery sudden gust of discontent, Or flowing of our passions can change, [10] As if it nere had bin: but doe you know Who are to sit on him?

Bau. Mounsieur Du Croy Assisted by Charmi.

Rom. The Aduocate That pleaded for the Marshalls funerall, And was checkt for it by Nouall.

Bau. The same [15]

Rom. How fortunes that?

Bau. Why, sir, my Lord Nouall Being the accuser, cannot be the Iudge, Nor would grieue Rochfort, but Lord Charaloys (Howeuer he might wrong him by his power,) Should haue an equall hearing.

Rom. By my hopes [20] Of Charaloys acquitall, I lament That reuerent old mans fortune.

Bau. Had you seene him, As to my griefe I haue now promis’d patience, And ere it was beleeu’d, though spake by him That neuer brake his word, inrag’d againe [25] So far as to make warre vpon those heires Which not a barbarous Sythian durst presume To touch, but with a superstitious feare, As something sacred, and then curse his daughter, But with more frequent violence himselfe, [30] As if he had bin guilty of her fault, By being incredulous of your report, You would not onely iudge him worrhy pitty, But suffer with him.

Enter Charalois, with Officers.

But heere comes the prisoner, I dare not stay to doe my duty to him, [35] Yet rest assur’d, all possible meanes in me To doe him seruice, keepes you company.

Exit Bau.

Rom. It is not doubted.

Cha. Why, yet as I came hither, The people apt to mocke calamity, And tread on the oppress’d, made no hornes at me, [40] Though they are too familiar: I deserue them. And knowing what blood my sword hath drunke In wreake of that disgrace, they yet forbare To shake their heads, or to reuile me for A murtherer, they rather all put on [45] (As for great losses the old Romans vs’d) A generall face of sorrow, waighted on By a sad murmur breaking through their silence, And no eye but was readier with a teare To witnesse ’twas shed for me, then I could [50] Discerne a face made vp with scorne against me. Why should I then, though for vnusuall wrongs, I chose vnusuall meanes to right those wrongs, Condemne my selfe, as over-partiall In my owne cause Romont?

Rom. Best friend, well met, [55] By my heart’s loue to you, and ioyne to that, My thankfulness that still liues to the dead, I looke upon you now with more true ioy, Than when I saw you married.

Cha. You have reason To give you warrant for’t; my falling off [60] From such a friendship with the scorne that answered Your too propheticke counsell, may well moue you To thinke your meeting me going to my death, A fit encounter for that hate which iustly I have deseru’d from you.

Rom. Shall I still then [65] Speake truth, and be ill vnderstood?

Cha. You are not. I am conscious, I haue wrong’d you, and allow me Only a morall man to looke on you, Whom foolishly I haue abus’d and iniur’d, Must of necessity be more terrible to me, [70] Than any death the Iudges can pronounce From the tribunall which I am to plead at.

Rom. Passion transports you.

Cha. For what I haue done To my false Lady, or Nouall, I can Giue some apparent cause: but touching you, [75] In my defence, childlike, I can say nothing, But I am sorry for’t, a poore satisfaction: And yet mistake me not: for it is more Then I will speake, to haue my pardon sign’d For all I stand accus’d of.

Rom. You much weaken [80] The strength of your good cause. Should you but thinke A man for doing well could entertaine A pardon, were it offred, you haue giuen To blinde and slow-pac’d iustice, wings, and eyes To see and ouertake impieties, [85] Which from a cold proceeding had receiu’d Indulgence or protection.

Cha. Thinke you so?

Rom. Vpon my soule nor should the blood you chalenge And took to cure your honour, breed more scruple In your soft conscience, then if your sword [90] Had bin sheath’d in a Tygre, or she Beare, That in their bowels would haue made your tombe To iniure innocence is more then murther: But when inhumane lusts transforme vs, then Like beasts we are to suffer, not like men [95] To be lamented. Nor did Charalois euer Performe an act so worthy the applause Of a full theater of perfect men, As he hath done in this: the glory got By ouerthrowing outward enemies, [100] Since strength and fortune are maine sharers in it, We cannot but by pieces call our owne: But when we conquer our intestine foes, Our passions breed within vs, and of those The most rebellious tyrant powerfull loue, [105] Our reason suffering vs to like no longer Then the faire obiect being good deserues it, That’s a true victory, which, were great men Ambitious to atchieue, by your example Setting no price vpon the breach of fayth, [110] But losse of life, ’twould fright adultery Out of their families, and make lust appeare As lothsome to vs in the first consent, As when ’tis wayted on by punishment.

Cha. You haue confirm’d me. Who would loue a woman [115] That might inioy in such a man, a friend? You haue made me know the iustice of my cause, And mark’t me out the way, how to defend it.

Rom. Continue to that resolution constant, And you shall, in contempt of their worst malice, [120] Come off with honour. Heere they come.

Cha. I am ready.

Scaena 3.

Enter Du Croy, Charmi, Rochfort, Nouall se. Pontalier, Baumont.

Nou. se. See, equall Iudges, with what confidence The cruel murtherer stands, as if he would Outface the Court and Iustice!

Roch. But looke on him. And you shall find, for still methinks I doe, Though guilt hath dide him black, something good in him, [5] That may perhaps worke with a wiser man Then I haue beene, againe to set him free And giue him all he has.

Charmi. This is not well. I would you had liu’d so, my Lord that I, Might rather haue continu’d your poore seruant, [10] Then sit here as your Iudge.

Du Croy I am sorry for you.

Roch. In no act of my life I haue deseru’d This iniury from the court, that any heere Should thus vnciuilly vsurpe on what Is proper to me only.

Du Cr. What distaste [15] Receiues my Lord?

Roch. You say you are sorry for him: A griefe in which I must not haue a partner: ’Tis I alone am sorry, that I rays’d The building of my life for seuenty yeeres Vpon so sure a ground, that all the vices [20] Practis’d to ruine man, though brought against me, Could neuer vndermine, and no way left To send these gray haires to the graue with sorrow. Vertue that was my patronesse betrayd me: For entring, nay, possessing this young man, [25] It lent him such a powerfull Maiesty To grace what ere he vndertooke, that freely I gaue myselfe vp with my liberty, To be at his disposing; had his person Louely I must confesse, or far fain’d valour, [30] Or any other seeming good, that yet Holds a neere neyghbour-hood, with ill wrought on me, I might haue borne it better: but when goodnesse And piety it selfe in her best figure Were brib’d to by destruction, can you blame me, [35] Though I forget to suffer like a man, Or rather act a woman?

Bau. Good my Lord.

Nou. se. You hinder our proceeding.

Charmi. And forget The parts of an accuser.

Bau. Pray you remember To vse the temper which to me you promis’d. [40]

Roch. Angels themselues must breake Baumont, that promise Beyond the strength and patience of Angels. But I haue done, my good Lord, pardon me A weake old man, and pray adde to that A miserable father, yet be carefull [45] That your compassion of my age, nor his, Moue you to anything, that may dis-become The place on which you sit.

Charmi. Read the Inditement.

Cha. It shall be needelesse, I my selfe, my Lords, Will be my owne accuser, and confesse [50] All they can charge me with, or will I spare To aggrauate that guilt with circumstance They seeke to loade me with: onely I pray, That as for them you will vouchsafe me hearing: I may not be, denide it for my selfe, [55] When I shall vrge by what vnanswerable reasons I was compel’d to what I did, which yet Till you haue taught me better, I repent not.

Roch. The motion honest.

Charmi. And ’tis freely granted.

Cha. Then I confesse my Lords, that I stood bound, [60] When with my friends, euen hope it selfe had left me To this mans charity for my liberty, Nor did his bounty end there, but began: For after my enlargement, cherishing The good he did, he made me master of [65] His onely daughter, and his whole estate: Great ties of thankfulnesse I must acknowledge, Could any one freed by you, presse this further But yet consider, my most honourd Lords, If to receiue a fauour, make a seruant, [70] And benefits are bonds to tie the taker To the imperious will of him that giues, Ther’s none but slaues will receiue courtesie, Since they must fetter vs to our dishonours. Can it be cal’d magnificence in a Prince, [75] To powre downe riches, with a liberall hand, Vpon a poore mans wants, if that must bind him To play the soothing parasite to his vices? Or any man, because he sau’d my hand, Presume my head and heart are at his seruice? [80] Or did I stand ingag’d to buy my freedome (When my captiuity was honourable) By making my selfe here and fame hereafter, Bondslaues to mens scorne and calumnious tongues? Had his faire daughters mind bin like her feature, [85] Or for some little blemish I had sought For my content elsewhere, wasting on others My body and her dowry; my forhead then Deseru’d the brand of base ingratitude: But if obsequious vsage, and faire warning [90] To keepe her worth my loue, could preserue her From being a whore, and yet no cunning one, So to offend, and yet the fault kept from me? What should I doe? let any freeborne spirit Determine truly, if that thankfulnesse, [95] Choise forme with the whole world giuen for a dowry, Could strengthen so an honest man with patience, As with a willing necke to vndergoe The insupportable yoake of slaue or wittoll.

Charmi. What proofe haue you she did play false, besides [100] your oath?

Cha. Her owne confession to her father. I aske him for a witnesse.

Roch. ’Tis most true. I would not willingly blend my last words With an vntruth.

Cha. And then to cleere my selfe, That his great wealth was not the marke I shot at, [105] But that I held it, when faire Beaumelle Fell from her vertue, like the fatall gold Which Brennus tooke from Delphos, whose possession Brought with it ruine to himselfe and Army. Heer’s one in Court, Baumont, by whom I sent [110] All graunts and writings backe, which made it mine, Before his daughter dy’d by his owne sentence, As freely as vnask’d he gaue it to me.

Bau. They are here to be seene.

Charmi. Open the casket. Peruse that deed of gift.

Rom. Halfe of the danger [115] Already is discharg’d: the other part As brauely, and you are not onely free, But crownd with praise for euer.

Du Croy. ’Tis apparent.

Charmi. Your state, my Lord, againe is yours.

Roch. Not mine, I am not of the world, if it can prosper, [120] (And being iustly got, Ile not examine Why it should be so fatall) doe you bestow it On pious vses. Ile goe seeke a graue. And yet for proofe, I die in peace, your pardon I aske, and as you grant it me, may Heauen [125] Your conscience, and these Iudges free you from What you are charg’d with. So farewell for euer.—

Exit Roch.

Nouall se. Ile be mine owne guide. Passion, nor example Shall be my leaders. I haue lost a sonne, A sonne, graue Iudges, I require his blood [130] From his accursed homicide.

Charmi. What reply you In your defence for this?

Cha. I but attended Your Lordships pleasure. For the fact, as of The former, I confesse it, but with what Base wrongs I was vnwillingly drawne to it, [135] To my few wordes there are some other proofes To witnesse this for truth, when I was married: For there I must begin. The slayne Nouall Was to my wife, in way of our French courtship, A most deuoted seruant, but yet aym’d at [140] Nothing but meanes to quench his wanton heate, His heart being neuer warm’d by lawfull fires As mine was (Lords:) and though on these presumptions, Ioyn’d to the hate betweene his house and mine, I might with opportunity and ease [145] Haue found a way for my reuenge, I did not; But still he had the freedome as before When all was mine, and told that he abus’d it With some vnseemely licence, by my friend My appou’d friend Romont, I gaue no credit [150] To the reporter, but reprou’d him for it As one vncourtly and malicious to him. What could I more, my Lords? yet after this He did continue in his first pursute Hoter then euer, and at length obtaind it; [155] But how it came to my most certaine knowledge, For the dignity of the court and my owne honour I dare not say.

Nou. se. If all may be beleeu’d A passionate prisoner speakes, who is so foolish That durst be wicked, that will appeare guilty? [160] No, my graue Lords: in his impunity But giue example vnto iealous men To cut the throats they hate, and they will neuer Want matter or pretence for their bad ends.

Charmi. You must find other proofes to strengthen these [165] But more presumptions.

Du Croy. Or we shall hardly Allow your innocence.

Cha. All your attempts Shall fall on me, like brittle shafts on armour, That breake themselues; or like waues against a rocke, That leaue no signe of their ridiculous fury [170] But foame and splinters, my innocence like these Shall stand triumphant, and your malice serue But for a trumpet; to proclaime my conquest Nor shall you, though you doe the worst fate can, How ere condemne, affright an honest man. [175]

Rom. May it please the Court, I may be heard.

Nou. se. You come not To raile againe? but doe, you shall not finde, Another Rochfort.

Rom. In Nouall I cannot. But I come furnished with what will stop The mouth of his conspiracy against the life [180] Of innocent Charaloys. Doe you know this Character?

Nou. se. Yes, ’tis my sonnes.

Rom. May it please your Lordships, reade it, And you shall finde there, with what vehemency He did sollicite Beaumelle, how he had got A promise from her to inioy his wishes, [185] How after he abiur’d her company, And yet, but that ’tis fit I spare the dead, Like a damnd villaine, assoone as recorded, He brake that oath, to make this manifest Produce his bands and hers.