Chapter II: Part 2

_Val._ Thou dost but jest, thou canst not be so monstrous
As thou proclaim'st thy self; thou art her Brother,
And there must be a feeling heart within thee
Of her afflictions; wert thou a stranger to us,
And bred amongst wild rocks, thy nature wild too,
Affection in thee as thy breeding, cold,
And unrelenting as the rocks that nourisht thee,
Yet thou must shake to tell me this; they tremble
When the rude sea threatens divorce amongst 'em,
They that are senceless things shake at a tempest;
Thou art a man--

_Sor._ Be thou too then, 'twill try thee,
And patience now will best become thy nobleness.

_Val._ Invent some other torment to afflict me,
All, if thou please, put all afflictions on me,
Study thy brains out for 'em, so this be none
I care not of what nature, nor what cruelty,
Nor of what length.

_Sor._ This is enough to vex ye.

_Val._ The tale of _Tantalus_ is now prov'd true,
And from me shall be registred Authentick;
To have my joyes within my arms, and lawfull,
Mine own delights, yet dare not touch.
Even as thou hatest me Brother, let no young man know this,
As thou shalt hope for peace when thou most needest it,
Peace in thy soul, desire the King to kill me,
Make me a traitor, any thing, I'le yield to it,
And give thee cause so I may dye immediately;
Lock me in Prison where no Sun may see me,
In walls so thick no hope may e're come at me;
Keep me from meat, and drink, and sleep, I'le bless thee;
Give me some damned potion to deliver me,
That I may never know my self again, forget
My Country, kindred, name and fortune; last,
That my chaste love may never appear before me,
This were some comfort.

_Sor._ All I have I have brought ye,
And much good may it do ye my dear Brother,
See ye observe it well; you will find about ye
Many eyes set, that shall o're-look your actions,
If you transgress ye know, and so I leave ye. [_Exit._

_Val._ Heaven be not angry, and I have some hope yet. [_Exit._

_Enter_ Frederick, _and_ Sorano.

_Fred._ Hast thou been with him?

_Sor._ Yes, and given him that Sir
Will make him curse his Birth; I told ye which way.
Did you but see him Sir, but look upon him,
With what a troubled and dejected nature
He walks now in a mist, with what a silence,
As if he were the shrowd he wrapt himself in,
And no more of _Valerio_ but his shadow,
He seeks obscurity to hide his thoughts in,
You would wonder and admire for all you know it,
His jollity is down, valed to the ground Sir,
And his high hopes of full delights and pleasures
Are turn'd tormenters to him, strong diseases.

_Fred._ But is there hope of her?

_Sor._ It must fall necessary,
She must dislike him, quarrel with his person,
For women once deluded are next Devils,
And in the height of that opinion Sir,
You shall put on again, and she must meet ye.

_Fred._ I am glad of this.

_Sor._ I'le tell ye all the circumstance
Within this hour, but sure I heard your grace
To day as I attended, make some stops,
Some broken speech[e]s, and some sighs between,
And then your Brothers name I heard distinctly,
And some sad wishes after.

_Fred._ Ye are i'th' right Sir,
I would he were as sad as I could wish him,
Sad as the Earth.

_Sor._ Would ye have it so?

_Fred._ Thou hearest me,
Though he be sick with small hope of recovery,
That hope still lives, and mens eyes live upon it,
And in their eye their wishes; my _Sorano_,
Were he but cold once in the tomb he dotes on,
As 'tis the fittest place for melancholy,
My Court should be another Paradise,
And flow with all delights.

_Sor._ Go to your pleasures, let me alone with this,
Hope shall not trouble ye, nor he three dayes.

_Fred._ I shall be bound unto thee.

_Enter_ Valerio, Camillo, Cleanthes, Menallo.

_Sor._ I'le do it neatly too, no doubt shall catch me.

_Fred._ Be gone, they are going to bed, I'le bid good night to 'em.

_Sor._ And mark the man, you'l scarce know 'tis _Valerio_. [_Exit._

_Cam._ Chear up my noble Lord, the minute's come,
You shall injoy the abstract of all sweetness,
We did you wrong, you need no wine to warm ye,
Desire shoots through your eyes like sudden wild-fires.

_Val._ Beshrew me Lords, the wine has made me dull,
I am I know not what.

_Fred._ Good pleasure to ye,
Good night and long too, as you find your appetite
You may fall to.

_Val._ I do beseech your grace,
For which of all my loves and services
Have I deserved this?

_Fred._ I am not bound to answer ye.

_Val._ Nor I bound to obey in unjust actions.

_Fred._ Do as you please, you know the penalty,
And as I have a soul it shall be executed;
Nay look not pale, I am not used to fear Sir,
If you respect your Lady, good night to ye. [_Exit._

_Val._ But for respect to her and to my duty,
That reverent duty that I owe my Sovera[ig]n,
Which anger has no power to snatch me from,
The good night should be thine; good night for ever.
The King is wanton Lords, he would needs know of me
How many nick chases I would make to night.

_Men._ My Lord, no doubt you'l prove a perfect gamester.

_Val._ Faith no, I am unacquainted with the pleasure,
Bungle a set I may: how my heart trembles,
And beats my breast as it would break his way out!
Good night my noble friends.

_Cle._ Nay we must see you toward your bed my Lord.

_Val._ Good faith it needs not,
'Tis late, and I shall trouble you.

_Cam._ No, no, till the Bride come Sir.

_Val._ I beseech you leave me,
You will make me bashfull else, I am so foolish,
Besides, I have some few devotions Lords,
And he that can pray with such a book in's arms--

_Ca[m]._ We'l leave ye then, and a sweet night wait upon ye.

_Men._ And a sweet issue of this sweet night crown ye.

_Cle._ All nights and days be such till you grow old Sir.

[_Exeunt Lords._

_Val._ I thank ye, 'tis a curse sufficient for me,
A labour'd one too, though you mean a blessing.
What shall I do? I am like a wretched Debtor,
That has a summe to tender on the forfeit
Of all he is worth, yet dare not offer it.
Other men see the Sun, yet I must wink at it;
And though I know 'tis perfect day, deny it:
My veins are all on fire, and burn like _Ætna_,
Youth and desire beat larums to my blood,
And adde fresh fuel to my warm affections.
I must injoy her, yet when I consider,
When I collect my self, and weigh her danger,
The tyrants will, and his power taught to murther,
My tender care controlls my blood within me,
And like a cold fit of a peevish Ague
Creeps to my soul, and flings an Ice upon me,

_Enter Queen,_ Evanthe, _Ladies, and Fool._

That locks all powers of youth up: but prevention--
O what a blessedness 'twere to be old now,
To be unable, bed-rid with diseases,
Or halt on Crutches to meet holy _Hymen_;
What a rare benefit! but I am curst,
That that speaks other men most freely happy,
And makes all eyes hang on their expectations,
Must prove the bane of me, youth, and ability.
She comes to bed, how shall I entertain her?

_Tony._ Nay I come after too, take the fool with ye,
For lightly he is ever one at Weddings.

_Queen. Evanthe_, make ye unready, your Lord staies for ye,
And prethee be merry.

_Tony._ Be very merry, Chicken,
Thy Lord will pipe to thee anon, and make thee dance too.

_Lady._ Will he so, good-man ass?

_Tony._ Yes good filly,
And you had such a Pipe, that piped so sweetly,
You would dance to death, you have learnt your sinque a pace.

_Evan._ Your grace desires that that is too free in me,
I am merry at the heart.

_Tony._ Thou wilt be anon, the young smug boy will give thee a
sweet cordial.

_Evan._ I am so taken up in all my thoughts,
So possest Madam with the lawfull sweets
I shall this night partake of with my Lord,
So far transported (pardon my immodesty.)

_Val._ Alas poor wench, how shall I recompence thee?

_Evan._ That though they must be short, and snatcht away too,
E're they grow ripe, yet I shall far prefer 'em
Before a tedious pleasure with repentance.

_Val._ O how my heart akes!

_Evan._ Take off my Jewels Ladies,
And let my Ruff loose, I shall bid good night to ye,
My Lord staies here.

_Queen._ My wench, I thank thee heartily,
For learning how to use thy few hours handsomly,
They will be years I hope; off with your Gown now,
Lay down the bed there!

_Tony._ Shall I get into it and warm it for thee? a fools fire
is a fine thing,
And I'le so buss thee.

_Queen._ I'le have ye whipt ye Rascal.

_Tony._ That will provoke me more, I'le talk with thy husband,
He's a wise man I hope.

_Evan._ Good night dear Madam,
Ladies, no further service, I am well,
I do beseech your grace to give us this leave,
My Lord and I to one another freely,
And privately, may do all other Ceremonies,
Women and Page we'l be to one another,
And trouble you no farther.

_Tony._ Art thou a wise man?

_Val._ I cannot tell thee _Tony_, ask my neighbours.

_Tony._ If thou beest so, go lye with me to night,
The old fool will lye quieter than the young one,
And give thee more sleep, thou wilt look to morrow else
Worse than the prodigal fool the Ballad speaks of,
That was squeez'd through a horn.

_Val._ I shall take thy counsel.

_Queen._ Why then good night, good night my best _Evanthe_,
My worthy maid, and as that name shall vanish,
A worthy wife, a long and happy; follow Sirrah.

_Evan._ That shall be my care,
Goodness rest with your Grace.

_Queen._ Be lusty Lord, and take your Lady to ye,
And that power that shall part ye be unhappy.

_Val._ Sweet rest unto ye, to ye all sweet Ladies;
_Tony_ good night.

_Tony._ Shall not the fool stay with thee?

_Queen._ Come away Sirrah. [_Exeunt Queen, Ladies._

_Tony._ How the fool is sought for! sweet Malt is made of easie fire,
A hasty horse will quickly tire, a sudden leaper sticks i'th' mire,
Phlebotomy and the word lye nigher, take heed of friend I thee require;
This from an Almanack I stole, and learn[t] this Lesson from a fool.
Good night my Bird. [_Exit_ Tony.

_Evan._ Good night wise Master _Tony_;
Will ye to bed my Lord? Come, let me help ye.

_Val._ To bed _Evanthe_, art thou sleepy?

_Evant._ No, I shall be worse if you look sad upon me,
Pray ye let's to bed.

_Val._ I am not well my love.

_Evant._ I'le make ye well, there's no such Physick for ye
As your warm Mistris arms.

_Val._ Art thou so cunning?

_Evant._ I speak not by experience, 'pray ye mistake not;
But if you love me--

_Val._ I do love so dearly,
So much above the base bent of desire,
I know not how to answer thee.

_Evant._ To bed then,
There I shall better credit ye; fie my Lord,
Will ye put a maid to't, to teach ye what to do?
An innocent maid? Are ye so cold a Lover?
In truth you make me blush, 'tis midnight too,
And 'tis no stoln love, but authorised openly,
No sin we covet, pray let me undress ye,
You shall help me; prethee sweet _Valerio_;
Be not so sad, the King will be more mercifull.

_Val._ May not I love thy mind?

_Evant._ And I yours too,
'Tis a most noble one, adorn'd with vertue;
But if we love not one another really,
And put our bodies and our mind together,
And so make up the concord of affection,
Our love will prove but a blind superstition:
This is no school to argue in my Lord,
Nor have we time to talk away allow'd us,
Pray let's dispatch, if any one should come
And find us at this distance, what would they think?
Come, kiss me and to bed.

_Val._ That I dare do, and kiss again.

_Evant._ Spare not, they are your own Sir.

_Val._ But to injoy thee is to be luxurious;
Too sensuall in my love, and too ambitious;
O how I burn! to pluck thee from the stalk,
Where now thou grow'st a sweet bud and a beauteous,
And bear'st the prime and honour of the Garden,
Is but to violate thy spring, and spoil thee.

_Evant._ To let me blow, and fall alone would anger ye.

_Val._ Let's sit together thus, and as we sit
Feed on the sweets of one anothers souls,
The happiness of love is contemplation,
The blessedness of love is pure affection,
Where no allay of actuall dull desires,
Of pleasure that partakes with wantonness,
Of humane fire that burns out as it kindles,
And leaves the body but a poor repentance,
Can ever mix, let's fix on that _Evanthe_,
That's everlasting, the tother casuall;
Eternity breeds one, the other fortune,
Blind as her self, and full of all afflictions.
Shall we love vertuously?

_Evant._ I ever loved so.

_Val._ And only think our love; the rarest pleasure,
And that we most desire, let it be humane,
If once injoyed grows stale, and cloys our appetites;
I would not lessen in my love for any thing,
Nor find thee but the same in my short journey,
For my loves safety.

_Evant._ Now I see I am old Sir,
Old and ill favour'd too, poor and despis'd,
And am not worth your noble Fellowship,
Your fellowship in Love, you would not else
Thus cunningly seek to betray a maid,
A maid that honours you thus piously;
Strive to abuse the pious love she brings ye.
Farewel my Lord, since ye have a better Mistris,
For it must seem so, or ye are no man,
A younger, happier, I shall give her room,
So much I love ye still.

_Val._ Stay my _Evanthe_,
Heaven bear me witness, thou art all I love,
All I desire, and now have pity on me,
I never lyed before; forgive me Justice,
Youth and affection stop your ears unto me.

_Evant._ Why do you weep? if I have spoke too harshly,
And unbeseeming, my beloved Lord,
My care and duty, pardon me.

_Val._ O hear me,
Hear me _Evanthe_; I am all on torture,
And this lye tears my conscience as I vent it;
I am no man.

_Evant._ How Sir?

_Val._ No man for pleasure, no womans man.

_Eva._ Goodness forbid my Lord, sure you abuse your self.

_Val._ 'Tis true _Evanthe_;
I shame to say you will find it. [_Weeps._

_Evant._ He weeps bitterly,
'Tis my hard fortune, bless all young maids from it;
Is there no help my Lord in art will comfort ye?

_Val._ I hope there is.

_Evant._ How long have you been destitute?

_Val._ Since I was young.

_Evant._ 'Tis hard to dye for nothing,
Now you shall know 'tis not the pleasure Sir,
(For I am compell'd to love you spiritually)
That women aim at, I affect ye for,
'Tis for your worth; and kiss me, be at peace,
Because I ever loved ye, I still honour ye,
And with all duty to my Husband follow ye;
Will ye to bed now? ye are asham'd i[t] seems;
_Pygmalion_ pray'd and his cold stone took life,
You do not know with what zeal I shall ask Sir,
And what rare miracle that may work upon ye;
Still blush? prescribe your Law.

_Val._ I prethee pardon me,
To bed, and I'le sit by thee, and mourn with thee,
Mourn both our fortunes, our unhappy ones:
Do not despise me, make me not more wretched,
I pray to Heaven when I am gone _Evanthe_,
As my poor date is but a span of time now,
To recompence thy noble patience,
Thy love and vertue with a fruitfull husband,
Honest and honourable.

_Evant._ Come, you have made me weep now,
All fond desire dye here, and welcom chastity,
Honour and chastity, do what you please Sir. [_Exeunt._

_Actus Quartus. Scena Prima._

_Enter at one door_ Rugio, _and Frier_ Marco, _at the_
_other door_ Sorano, _with a little glass viol._

_Rug._ What ails this piece of mischief to look sad?
He seems to weep too.

_Mar._ Something is a hatching,
And of some bloody nature too, Lord _Rugio_,
This Crocodile mourns thus cunningly.

_Sor._ Hail holy Father,
And good day to the good Lord _Rugio_,
How fares the sad Prince I beseech ye Sir?

_Rug._ 'Tis like you know, you need not ask that question,
You have your eyes and watches on his miseries
As near as ours, I would they were as tender.

_Mar._ Can you do him good? as the King and you appointed him,
So he is still, as you desir'd I think too,
For every day he is worse (Heaven pardon all)
Put off your sorrow, you may laugh now Lord,
He cannot last long to disturb your Master,
You have done worthy service to his Brother,
And he most memorable love.

_Sor._ You do not know Sir
With what remorse I ask, nor with what weariness
I groan and bow under this load of honour,
And how my soul sighs for the beastly services,
I have done his pleasures, these be witness with me,
And from your piety believe me Father,
I would as willingly unclothe my self
Of title, that becomes me not I know;
Good men, and great names best agree together;
Cast off the glorious favours, and the trappings
Of sound and honour, wealth and promises,
His wanton pleasures have flung on my weakness,
And chuse to serve my countries cause and vertues,
Poorly and honestly, and redeem my ruines,
As I would hope remission of my mischiefs.

_Rug._ Old and experienc'd men, my Lord _Sorano_,
Are not so quickly caught with gilt hypocrisie,
You pull your claws in now and fawn upon us,
As lyons do to intice poor foolish beasts;
And beasts we should be too if we believ'd ye,
Go exercise your Art.

_Sor._ For Heaven sake scorn me not,
Nor adde more Hell to my afflicted soul
Than I feel here; as you are honourable,
As you are charitable look gently on me,
I will no more to Court, be no more Devil,
I know I must be hated even of him
That was my Love now, and the more he loves me
For his foul ends, when they shall once appear to him,
Muster before his conscience and accuse him,
The fouler and the more falls his displeasure,
Princes are fading things, so are their favours.

_Mar._ He weeps again, his heart is toucht sure with remorse.

_Sor._ See this, and give me fair attention good my Lord,
And worthy Father see, within this viol
The remedy and cure of all my honour,
And of the sad Prince lyes.

_Rug._ What new trick's this?

_Sor._ 'Tis true, I have done Offices abundantly
Ill and prodigious to the Prince _Alphonso_,
And whilst I was a knave I sought his death too.

_Rug._ You are too late convicted to be good yet.

_Sor._ But Father, when I felt this part afflict me,
This inward part, and call'd me to an audit
Of my misdeeds and mischiefs--

_Mar._ Well, go on Sir.

_Sor._ O then, then, then what was my glory then Father?
The favour of the King, what did that ease me?
What was it to be bow'd to by all creatures?
Worship[t], and courted, what did this avail me?
I was a wretch, a poor lost wretch.

_Mar._ Still better.

_Sor._ Till in the midst of all my grief I found
Repentance, and a learned man to give the means to it,
A Jew, an honest and a rare Physician,
Of him I had this Jewel; 'tis a Jewel,
And at the price of all my wealth I bought it:
If the King knew it I must lose my head,
And willingly, most willingly I would suffer,
A child may take it, 'tis so sweet in working.

_Mar._ To whom would you apply it?

_Sor._ To the sick Prince,
It will in half a day dissolve his melancholy.

_Rug._ I do believe, and give him sleep for ever.
What impudence is this, and what base malice,
To make us instruments of thy abuses?
Are we set here to poison him?

_Sor._ Mistake not, yet I must needs say, 'tis a noble care,
And worthy vertuous servants; if you will see
A flourishing estate again in _Naples_,
And great _Alphonso_ reign that's truly good,
And like himself able to make all excellent;
Give him this drink, and this good health unto him. [_Drinks._
I am not so desperate yet to kill my self,
Never look on me as a guilty man,
Nor on the water as a speedy poison:
I am not mad, nor laid out all my treasure,
My conscience and my credit to abuse ye;
How nimbly and how chearfully it works now
Upon my heart and head! sure I am a new man,
There is no sadness that I feel within me,
But as it meets it, like a lazie vapour
How it flyes off. Here, give it him with speed,
You are more guilty than I ever was,
And worthier of the name of evil subjects,
If but an hour you hold this from his health.

_Rug._ 'Tis some rare vertuous thing sure, he is a good man,
It must be so, come, let's apply it presently,
And may it sweetly work.

_Sor._ Pray let me hear on't, and carry it close my Lords.

_Mar._ Yes, good _Sorano_. [_Ex._ Rugio, Marco.

_Sor._ Do my good fools, my honest pious coxcombs,
My wary fools too: have I caught your wisedoms?
You never dream't I knew an Antidote,
Nor how to take it to secure mine own life;
I am an Asse, go, give him the fine cordial,
And when you have done go dig his grave, good Frier,
Some two hours hence we shall have such a bawling,
And roaring up and down for _Aqua vitæ_,
Such rubbing, and such nointing, and such cooling,
I have sent him that will make a bonfire in's belly,
If he recover it, there is no heat in Hell sure. [_Exit._

_Enter_ Frederick, _and_ Podrano.

_Fred. Podrano_?

_Pod._ Sir.

_Fred._ Call hither Lord _Valerio_, and let none trouble us.

_Pod._ It shall be done Sir. [_Exit._

_Fred._ I know he wants no additions to his tortures,
He has enough for humane blood to carry,
Yet I must vex him further;
So many that I wonder his hot youth
And high-bred spirit breaks not into fury;
I must yet torture him a little further,
And make my self sport with his miseries,
My anger is too poor else. Here he comes,

_Enter_ Val.

Now my young married Lord, how do you feel your self?
You have the happiness you ever aim'd at,
The joy and pleasure.

_Val._ Would you had the like Sir.

_Fred._ You tumble in delights with your sweet Lady,
And draw the minutes out in dear embraces,
You live a right Lords life.

_Val._ Would you had tryed it,
That you might know the vertue but to suffer,
Your anger though it be unjust and insolent,
Sits handsomer upon you than your scorn,
To do a wilfull ill and glory in it,
Is to do it double, double to be damn'd too.

_Fred._ Hast thou not found a loving and free Prince,
High in his favours too; that has confer'd
Such hearts ease, and such heaps of comfort on thee,
All thou cou'dst ask?

_Val._ You are grown a tyrant too
Upon so suffering, and so still a subject;
You have put upon me such a punishment,
That if your youth were honest it would blush at:
But you are a shame to nature, as to vertue.
Pull not my rage upon ye, 'tis so just,
It will give way to no respect; my life,
My innocent life, I dare maintain it Sir,
Like a wanton prodigal you have flung away,
Had I a thousand more I would allow 'em,
And be as careless of 'em as your will is;
But to deny those rights the Law hath given me,
The holy Law, and make her life the penance,
Is such a studied and unheard of malice,
No heart that is not hired from Hell dare think of;
To do it then too, when my hopes were high,
High as my Blood, all my desires upon me,
My free affections ready to embrace her,

_Enter_ Cassandra.

And she mine own; do you smile at this? is't done well?
Is there not Heaven above you that sees all? [_Exit_ Val.

_Fred._ Come hither Time, how does your noble Mistriss?

_Cas._ As a Gentlewoman may do in her case that's newly
married, Sir:
Sickly sometimes, and fond on't, like your Majesty.

_Fred._ She is breeding then?

_Cas._ She wants much of her colour,
And has her qualms as Ladies use to have, Sir,
And her disgusts.

_Fred._ And keeps her Chamber?

_Cas._ Yes Sir.

_Fred._ And eats good Broths and Jellies.

_Cas._ I am sure she sighs, Sir, and weeps, good Lady.

_Fred._ Alas, good Lady, for it,
She should have one could comfort her, _Cassandra_,
Could turn those tears to joys, a lusty Comforter.

_Cas._ A comfortable man does well at all hours,
For he brings comfortable things.

_Fred._ Come hither, & hold your fann between, you have eaten Onions,
Her breath stinks like a Fox, her teeth are contagious,
These old women are all Elder-Pipes, do ye mark me?

[_Gives a Purse._

_Cas._ Yes, Sir, but does your Grace think I am fit,
That am both old and vertuous?

_Fred._ Therefore the fitter, the older still the better,
I know thou art as holy as an old Cope,
Yet upon necessary use--

_Cas._ 'Tis true, Sir.

_Fred._ Her feeling sense is fierce still, speak unto her,
You are familiar; speak I say, unto her,
Speak to the purpose; tell her this, and this.

_Cas._ Alas, she is honest, Sir, she is very honest,
And would you have my gravity--

_Fred._ I, I, your gravity will become the cause the better,
I'll look thee out a Knight shall make thee a Lady too,
A lusty Knight, and one that shall be ruled by thee,
And add to these, I'll make 'em good, no mincing,
Nor ducking out of nicety, good Lady,
But do it home, we'll all be friends too, tell her,
And such a joy--

_Cas._ That's it that stirs me up, Sir,
I would not for the World attempt her Chastity,
But that they may live lovingly hereafter.

_Fred._ For that I urge it too.

_Cas._ A little evil may well be suffered for a general good, Sir,
I'll take my leave of your Majesty. [_Exit._

_Enter_ Valerio.

_Fred._ Go fortunately, be speedy too: here comes _Valerio_,
If his affliction have allayed his spirit
My work has end. Come hither, Lord _Valerio_,
How do you now?

_Val._ Your Majesty may guess,
Not so well, nor so fortunate as you are,
That can tye up mens honest wills, and actions.

_Fred._ You clearly see now, brave _Valerio_,
What 'tis to be the Rival to a Prince,
To interpose against a raging Lion;
I know you have suffer'd, infinitely suffer'd,
And with a kind of pity I behold it,
And if you dare be worthy of my mercy,
I can yet heal you; yield up your _Evanthe_,
Take off my sentence also.

_Val._ I fall thus low, Sir,
My poor sad heart under your feet I lay,
And all the service of my life.

_Fred._ Do this then, for without this 'twill be impossible,
Part with her for a while.

_Val._ You have parted us,
What should I do with that I cannot use Sir?

_Fred._ 'Tis well consider'd, let me have the Lady,
And thou shalt see how nobly I'll befriend thee,
How all this difference--

_Val._ Will she come do you think, Sir?

_Fred._ She must be wrought, I know she is too modest,
And gently wrought, and cunningly.

_Val._ 'Tis fit, Sir.

_Fred._ And secretly it must be done.

_Val._ As thought.

_Fred._ I'll warrant ye her honour shall be fair still,
No soil nor stain shall appear on that, _Valerio_,
You see a thousand that bear sober faces,
And shew of as inimitable modesties;
You would be sworn too that they were pure Matrons,
And most chaste maids: and yet to augment their fortunes,
And get them noble friends--

_Val._ They are content, Sir,
In private to bestow their Beauties on 'em.

_Fred._ They are so, and they are wise, they know no want for't,
Nor no eye sees they want their honesties.

_Val._ If it might be carried thus.

_Fred._ It shall be, Sir.

_Val._ I'll see you dead first, with this caution,
Why, sure I think it might be done.

_Fred._ Yes, easily.

_Val._ For what time would your Grace desire her Body?

_Fred._ A month or two, it shall be carried still
As if she kept with you, and were a stranger,
Rather a hater of the grace I offer;
And then I will return her with such honour--

_Val._ 'Tis very like I dote much on your Honour.

_Fred._ And load her with such favour too, _Valerio_--

_Val._ She never shall claw off? I humbly thank ye.

_Fred._ I'll make ye both the happiest, and the richest,
And the mightiest too--

_Val._ But who shall work her, Sir?
For on my Conscience she is very honest,
And will be hard to cut as a rough Diamond.

_Fred._ Why, you must work her, any thing from your tongue,
Set off with golden, and perswasive Language,
Urging your dangers too.

_Val._ But all this time
Have you the conscience, Sir, to leave me nothing,
Nothing to play withal?

_Fred._ There be a thousand, take where thou wilt.

_Val._ May I make bold with your Queen,
She is useless to your Grace, as it appears, Sir,
And but a loyal Wife that may be lost too;
I have a mind to her, and then 'tis equal?

_Fred._ How, Sir?

_Val._ 'Tis so, Sir, thou most glorious impudence,
Have I not wrongs enow to suffer under,
But thou must pick me out to make a Monster?
A hated Wonder to the World? Do you start
At my intrenching on your private liberty,
And would you force a high-way through mine honour,
And make me pave it too? But that thy Queen
Is of that excellent honesty,
And guarded with Divinity about her,
No loose thought can come near, nor flame unhallowed,
I would so right my self.

_Fred._ Why, take her to ye,
I am not vex'd at this, thou shalt enjoy her,
I'll be thy friend if that may win thy courtesie.

_Val._ I will not be your Bawd, though for your Royalty.
Was I brought up, and nourish'd in the Court,
With thy most Royal Brother, and thy self,
Upon thy Fathers charge, thy happy Fathers,
And suckt the sweetness of all humane arts,
Learn'd Arms and Honour, to become a Rascal;
Was this the expectation of my Youth,
My growth of Honour? Do you speak this truly,
Or do you try me, Sir? for I believe not,
At least I would not, and methinks 'tis impossible
There should be such a Devil in a Kings shape,
Such a malignant Fiend.

_Fred._ I thank ye, Sir,
To morrow is your last day, and look to it,
Get from my sight, away.

_Val._ Ye are--Oh, my heart's too high and full to think upon ye.

[_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Evanthe, _and_ Cassandra.

_Evan._ You think it fit then, mortified _Cassandra_,
That I should be a Whore?

_Cas._ Why a Whore, Madam?
If every Woman that upon necessity
Did a good turn, for there's the main point, mark it,
Were term'd a Whore, who would be honest, Madam?
Your Lords life, and your own are now in hazard,
Two precious lives may be redeem'd with nothing,
Little or nothing; say an hours or days sport,
Or such a toy, the end to it is wantonness.
(That we call lust that maidens lose their fame for)
But a compell'd necessity of honour,
Fair as the day, and clear as innocence,
Upon my life and conscience, a direct way--

_Evan._ To be a Rascal.

_Cas._ 'Tis a kind of Rape too,
That keeps you clear, for where your will's compell'd
Though you yield up your Body you are safe still.

_Evan._ Thou art grown a learned Bawd, I ever look'd
Thy great sufficiency would break out.

_Cas._ You may,
You that are young, and fair scorn us old Creatures,
But you must know my years, ere you be wise, Lady,
And my experience too; say the King loved ye?
Say it were nothing else?

_Evan._ I, marry wench, now thou comest to me.

_Cas._ Do you think Princes favours are such sleight things,
To fling away when you please? there be young Ladies
Both fair and honourable, that would leap to reach 'em,
And leap aloft too.

_Evan._ Such are light enough;
I am no Vaulter, Wench, but canst thou tell me,
Though he be a King, whether he be sound or no?
I would not give my Youth up to infection.

_Cas._ As sound as honour ought to be, I think, Lady;
Go to, be wise, I do not bid you try him;
But if he love you well, and you neglect him,
Your Lords life hanging on the hazard of it,
If you be so wilful proud.

_Evan._ Thou speakest to the point still;
But when I have lain with him, what am I then, Gentlewoman?

_Cas._ What are you? why, the same you are now, a woman,
A vertuous Woman, and a noble Woman,
Touching at what is noble, you become so.
Had _Lucrece_ e'r been thought of but for _Tarquin_?
She was before a simple unknown Woman,
When she was ravish'd, she was a reverend Saint;
And do you think she yielded not a little?
And had a kind of will to have been re-ravish'd?
Believe it, yes: there are a thousand stories
Of wondrous loyal Women, that have slipt,
But it has been on the ice of tender honour,
That kept 'em cool still to the World. I think you are blest,
That have such an occasion in your hands to beget a Chronicle,
A faithful one.

_Evan._ It must needs be much honour.

_Cas._ As you may make it, infinite, and safe too,
And when 'tis done, your Lord and you may live
So quietly, and peaceably together,
And be what you please.

_Evan._ But suppose this, Wench,
The King should so delight me with his Company,
I should forget my Lord, and no more look on him.

_Cas._ That's the main hazard, for I tell you truly,
I have heard report speak he is an infinite pleasure,
Almost above belief; there be some Ladies,
And modest to the world too, wondrous modest,
That have had the blessedness to try his body,
That I have heard proclaim him a new _Hercules_.

_Evan._ So strongly able?

_Cas._ There will be the danger,
You being but a young and tender Lady,
Although your mind be good, yet your weak Body,
At first encounter too, to meet with one
Of his unconquer'd strength.

_Evan._ Peace, thou rude Bawd,
Thou studied old corruptness, tye thy tongue up,
Your hired base tongue; is this your timely counsel?
Dost thou seek to make me dote on wickedness?
Because 'tis ten times worse than thou deliver'st it?
To be a Whore, because he has sufficiency
To make a hundred? O thou impudence!
Have I reliev'd thy Age to mine own ruine?
And worn thee in my Bosome, to betray me?
Can years and impotence win nothing on thee
That's good and honest, but thou must go on still?
And where thy bloud wants heat to sin thy self,
Force thy decrepit will to make me wicked?

_Cas._ I did but tell ye.

_Evan._ What the damnedst Woman,
The cunning'st and the skilfull'st Bawd comes short of;
If thou hadst liv'd ten Ages to be damn'd in,
And exercis'd this Art the Devil taught thee,
Thou could'st not have express'd it more exactly.

_Cas._ I did not bid you sin.

_Evan._ Thou woo'd'st me to it,
Thou that art fit for Prayer and the Grave,
Thy Body Earth already, and Corruption,
Thou taught'st the way; go follow your fine function,
There are houses of delight, that want good Matrons,
Such grave Instructors, get thee thither, Monster,
And read variety of sins to wantons,
And when they roar with pains, learn to make plaisters.

_Cas._ This we have for our good wills.

_Evan._ If e'r I see thee more,
Or any thing that's like thee, to affright me,
By this fair light I'll spoil thy Bawdery,
I'll leave thee neither Eyes nor Nose to grace thee.
When thou wantest Bread, and common pity towards thee,

_Enter_ Frederick.

And art a starving in a Ditch, think of me,
Then dye, and let the wandring Bawds lament thee;
Be gone, I charge thee leave me.

_Cas._ You'll repent this. [_Exit._

_Fred._ She's angry, and t'other crying too, my suit's cold.
I'll make your heart ake, stubborn Wench, for this;
Turn not so angry from me, I will speak to you,
Are you grown proud with your delight, good Lady,
So pamper'd with your sport you scorn to know me?

_Evan._ I scorn ye not, I would you scorn'd not me, Sir,
And forc't me to be weary of my duty,
I know your Grace, would I had never seen ye.

_Fred._ Because I love you, because I dote upon ye,
Because I am a man that seek to please ye.

_Evan._ I have man enough already to content me,
As much, as noble, and as worthy of me,
As all the World can yield.

_Fred._ That's but your modesty,
You have no man, nay never look upon me,
I know it, Lady, no man to content ye,
No man that can, or at the least, that dares,
Which is a poorer man, and nearer nothing.

_Evan._ Be nobler, Sir, inform'd.

_Fred._ I'll tell thee, Wench,
The poor condition of this poorer fellow,
And make thee blush for shame at thine own errour,
He never tendred yet a husbands duty,
To thy warm longing bed.

_Evan._ How should he know that?

_Fred._ I am sure he did not, for I charg'd him no,
Upon his life I charg'd him, but to try him;
Could any brave or noble spirit stop here?
Was life to be preferr'd before affection?
Lawful and long'd for too?

_Evan._ Did you command him?

_Fred._ I did in policy to try his spirit.

_Evan._ And could he be so dead cold to observe it?
Brought I no beauty, nor no love along with me?

_Fred._ Why, that is it that makes me scorn to name him.
I should have lov'd him if he had ventur'd for't,
Nay, doted on his bravery.

_Evan._ Only charg'd?
And with that spell sit down? dare men fight bravely
For poor slight things, for drink, or ostentation?
And there indanger both their lives and fortunes,
And for their lawful loves fly off with fear?

_Fred._ 'Tis true, and with a cunning base fear too to abuse thee?
Made thee believe, poor innocent _Evanthe_,
Wretched young Girl, it was his impotency;
Was it not so? deny it.

_Evan._ O my anger! at my years to be cozen'd with a young man!

_Fred._ A strong man too, certain he lov'd ye dearly.

_Evan._ To have my shame and love mingled together,
And both flung on me like a weight to sink me,
I would have dyed a thousand times.

_Fred._ So would any,
Any that had the spirit of a man;
I would have been kill'd in your arms.

_Evan._ I would he had been,
And buried in mine arms, that had been noble,
And what a monument would I have made him?
Upon this breast he should have slept in peace,
Honour, and everlasting love his mourners;
And I still weeping till old time had turn'd me,
And pitying powers above into pure crystal.

_Fred._ Hadst thou lov'd me, and had my way been stuck
With deaths, as thick as frosty nights with stars,
I would have ventur'd.

_Evan._ Sure there is some trick in't: _Valerio_ ne'r was Coward.

_Fred._ Worse than this too,
Tamer, and seasoning of a baser nature,
He set your woman on ye to betray ye,
Your bawdy woman, or your sin solicitor;
I pray but think what this man may deserve now,
I know he did, and did it to please me too.

_Evan._ Good Sir afflict me not too fast, I feel
I am a woman, and a wrong'd one too,
And sensible I am of my abuses,
Sir, you have loved me.

_Fred._ And I love thee still, pity thy wrongs, and dote upon
thy person.

_Evan._ To set my woman on me 'twas too base, Sir.

_Fred._ Abominable vile.

_Evan._ But I shall fit him.

_Fred._ All reason and all Law allows it to ye,
And ye are a fool, a tame fool, if you spare him.

_Evan._ You may speak now, and happily prevail too,
And I beseech your Grace be angry with me.

_Fred._ I am at heart. She staggers in her faith,
And will fall off I hope, I'll ply her still.
Thou abused innocence, I suffer with thee,
If I should give him life, he would still betray thee;
That fool that fears to dye for such a Beauty,
Would for the same fear sell thee unto misery.
I do not say he would have been Bawd himself too.

_Evan._ Follow'd thus far? nay then I smell the malice,
It tastes too hot of practis'd wickedness,
There can be no such man, I am sure no Gentleman;
Shall my anger make me whore, and not my pleasure?
My sudden inconsiderate rage abuse me?
Come home again, my frighted faith, my vertue,
Home to my heart again; he be a Bawd too?

_Fred._ I will not say he offered fair _Evanthe._

_Evan._ Nor do not dare, 'twill be an impudence,
And not an honour for a Prince to lye;
Fye, Sir, a person of your rank to trifle,
I know you do lye.

_Fred._ How?

_Evan._ Lye shamefully, and I could wish myself a man but one day,
To tell you openly you lye too basely.

_Fred._ Take heed, wild fool.

_Evan._ Take thou heed, thou tame Devil,
Thou all _Pandora_'s Box in a Kings figure,
Thou hast almost whor'd my weak belief already,
And like an Engineer blown up mine honour;
But I shall countermine, and catch your mischief,
This little Fort you seek, I shall man nobly,
And strongly too, with chaste obedience
To my dear Lord, with vertuous thoughts that scorn ye.
Victorious _Thomyris_ ne'r won more honour
In cutting off the Royal head of _Cyrus_,
Than I shall do in conquering thee; farewel,
And if thou canst be wise, learn to be good too.
'Twill give thee nobler lights than both thine eyes do;
My poor Lord and my self are bound to suffer,
And when I see him faint under your sentence,
I'll tell ye more, it may be then I'll yield too.

_Fred._ Fool unexampled, shall my anger follow thee?

[_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Rugio, _and Fryar_ Marco, _amazed._

_Rugio._ Curst on our sights, our fond credulities,
A thousand curses on the Slave that cheated us,
The damn'd Slave.

_Mar._ We have e'n sham'd our service,
Brought our best care and loyalties to nothing,
'Tis the most fearful poyson, the most potent,
Heaven give him patience; Oh it works most strongly,
And tears him, Lord.

_Rug._ That we should be so stupid
To trust the arrant'st Villain that e'r flatter'd,
The bloodiest too, to believe a few soft words from him,
And give way to his prepar'd tears.

_Within, Alphonso._ Oh, Oh, Oh.

_Rug._ Hark, Fryar _Marco_, hark, the poor Prince, that
we should be such Block-heads,
As to be taken with his drinking first!
And never think what Antidotes are made for!
Two wooden sculls we have, and we deserve to be hang'd for't;
For certainly it will be laid to our charge;
As certain too, it will dispatch him speedily,
Which way to turn, or what to--

_Mar._ Let's pray, Heavens hand is strong.

_Rug._ The poyson's strong, you would say.

_Enter_ Alphonso, _carried on a Couch by two Fryars._

Would any thing--He comes, let's give him comfort.

_Alph._ Give me more air, air, more air, blow, blow,
Open thou Eastern Gate, and blow upon me,
Distill thy cold dews, O thou icy Moon,
And Rivers run through my afflicted spirit.
I am all fire, fire, fire, the raging dog star
Reigns in my bloud, Oh which way shall I turn me?
_Ætna_, and all his flames burn in my head,
Fling me into the Ocean or I perish;
Dig, dig, dig, till the Springs fly up,
The cold, cold Springs, that I may leap into 'em,
And bathe my scorcht Limbs in their purling Pleasures.
Or shoot me up into the higher Region,
Where treasures of delicious Snow are nourisht,
And Banquets of sweet Hail.

_Rug._ Hold him fast Fryer, O how he burns!

_Alph._ What will ye sacrifice me?
Upon the Altar lay my willing body,
And pile your Wood up, fling your holy incense;
And as I turn me you shall see all flame,
Consuming flame, stand off me, or you are ashes.

_Both._ Most miserable wretches.

_Alph._ Bring hither Charity
And let me hug her, Fryer, they say she's cold,
Infinite cold Devotion cannot warm her;
Draw me a river of false lovers tears
Clean through my breast, they are dull, cold, and forgetful,
And will give ease, let Virgins sigh upon me,
Forsaken souls, the sighs are precious,
Let them all sigh: Oh hell, hell, hell, Oh horror.

_Mar._ To bed, good Sir.

_Alph._ My bed will burn about me,
Like _Phaeton_, in all consuming flashes
I am inclosed, let me fly, let me fly, give room;
Betwixt the cold Bear, and the raging Lyon
Lyes my safe way; O for a cake of Ice now,
To clap unto my heart to comfort me;
Decrepit Winter hang upon my shoulders,
And let me wear thy frozen Isicles
Like Jewels round about my head, to cool me;
My eyes burn out, and sink into their sockets,
And my infected brain like brimstone boils,
I live in Hell, and several furies vex me;
O carry me where no Sun ever shew'd yet
A face of comfort, where the earth is Crystal,
Never to be dissolv'd, where naught inhabits
But night and cold, and nipping frosts, and winds
That cut the stubborn rocks and make them shiver;
Set me there friends.

_Rug._ Hold fast, he must to bed, Fryer, what scalding sweats he has!

_Mar._ He'll scald in Hell for't, that was the cause.

_Alph._ Drink, drink, a world of drink,
Fill all the cups and all the antick vessels,
And borrow pots, let me have drink enough,
Bring all the worthy drunkards of the time,
The experienc'd drunkards, let me have them all,
And let them drink their worst, I'le make them Ideots,
I'le lye upon my Back and swallow Vessels;
Have Rivers made of cooling Wine run through me,
Not stay for this mans health, or this great Princes,
But take an Ocean, and begin to all; Oh, oh.

_Mar._ He cools a little, now away with him,
And to his warm bed presently.

_Alph._ No drink? no wind? no cooling air?

_Rug._ You shall have any thing.
His hot fit lessens, Heaven put in a hand now,
And save his life; there's drink Sir in your chamber,
And all cool things.

_Alph._ Away, away, let's fly to 'em. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Valerio _and_ Evanthe.

_Evan._ To say you were impotent, I am asham'd on't,
To make your self no man, to a fresh Maid too,
A longing Maid, upon her wedding night also,
To give her such a dor.

_Val._ I prethee pardon me.

_Evan._ Had you been drunk, 't had been excusable,
Or like a Gentleman under the Surgions hands,
And so not able, there had been some colour,
But wretchedly to take a weakness to ye,
A fearful weakness, to abuse your body,
And let a lye work like a spell upon ye,
A lye, to save your life.

_Val._ Will you give me leave, sweet?

_Ev._ You have taken too much leave, and too base leave too,
To wrong your love; hast thou a noble spirit?
And canst thou look up to the peoples loves,
That call thee worthy, and not blush, _Valerio_?
Canst thou behold me that thou hast betray'd thus,
And no shame touch thee?

_Val._ Shame attend the sinful, I know my innocence.

_Evan._ Ne'r think to face it, that's a double weakness,
And shews thee falser still; the King himself,
Though he be wicked, and our Enemy,
But juster than thou art, in pity of my injuries,
Told me the truth.

_Val._ What did he tell thee, _Evanthe_?

_Evan._ That but to gain thy life a fortnight longer,
Thy lov'd poor life, thou gav'st up all my duties.

_Val._ I swear 'tis false; my life and death are equal,
I have weigh'd 'em both, and find 'em but one fortune,
But Kings are men, and live as men, and dye too,
Have the affections men have, and their falsehoods;
Indeed they have more power to make 'em good;
The King's to blame, it was to save thy life Wench,
Thy innocent life, that I forbore thy bed,
For if I had toucht thee thou hadst dyed, he swore it.

_Evan._ And was not I as worthy to dye nobly?
To make a story for the time that follows,
As he that married me? what weakness, Sir,
Or disability do you see in me,
Either in mind or body? to defraud me
Of such an opportunity? Do you think I married you
Only for pleasure, or content in lust?
To lull you in my arms, and kiss you hourly?
Was this my end? I might have been a Queen, Sir,
If that had caught me, and have known all delicates;
There's few that would have shun'd so fair an offer.
O thou unfaithful fearful man, thou hast kill'd me,
In saving me this way, thou hast destroy'd me,
Rob'd me of that thy love can never give more;
To be unable to save me? O misery!
Had I been my _Valerio_, thou _Evanthe_,
I would have lyen with thee under a Gallows,
Though the Hangman had been my _Hymen_, and the furies
With iron whips and forks, ready to torture me.
I would have hug'd thee too, though Hell had gap'd at me;
Save my life! that expected to dye bravely,
That would have woo'd it too: Would I had married
An _Eunuch_, that had truly no ability,
Then such a fearful lyar, thou hast done me
A scurvy courtesie, that has undone me.

_Val._ I'le do no more, since you are so nobly fashion'd,
Made up so strongly, I'le take my share with ye,
Nay, dear, I'le learn of you.

_Evan._ He weeps too tenderly;
My anger's gone, good my Lord pardon me,
And if I have offended, be more angry,
It was a Womans flash, a sudden valour,
That could not lye conceal'd.

_Val._ I honour ye, by all the rites of holy marriage,
And pleasures of chaste love, I wonder at ye,
You appear the vision of a Heaven unto me,
Stuck all with stars of honour shining clearly,
And all the motions of your mind Celestial;
Man is a lump of Earth, the best man spiritless,
To such a woman; all our lives and actions
But counterfeits in _Arras_ to this vertue;
Chide me again, you have so brave an anger,
And flows so nobly from you, thus deliver'd,
That I could suffer like a Child to hear ye,
Nay make my self guilty of some faults to honour ye.

_Eva._ I'le chide no more, you have rob'd me of my courage,
And with a cunning patience checkt my impudence;
Once more forgiveness? [_She kneels._

_Val._ Will this serve, _Evanthe_? [_Kisses her._
And this my love? Heavens mercy be upon us;
But did he tell no more?

_Evan._ Only this trifle: you set my woman on me, to betray me;
'Tis true, she did her best, a bad old woman,
It stir'd me, Sir.

_Val._ I cannot blame thee, Jewel.

_Evan._ And me thought when your name was sounded that way--