Chapter IX: Part 9

_Tela._ What ails him?

_Tima._ Faith I know not, I think he has dreamt he's but
eighteen: has been wors[e] since he sent you forth for the
frizling iron.

_Tel._ That cannot be, he lay in Gloves all night, and this
morning I brought him a new _Periwig_, with a lock at it, and
knockt up a swing in's chamber.

_Tim._ O but since, his Taylor came, and they have fallen out
about the fashion on's cloaths: and yonders a fellow come, has
board a hole in's ear; and he has bespoke a Vaulting-horse, you
shall see him come forth presently: he looks like Winter, stuck
here and there with fresh flowers.

_Tela._ Will he not Tilt think you?

_Tima._ I think he will.

_Tela._ What does he mean to doe?

_Tim._ I know not: but by this light I think he is in love; he
wou'd ha' bin shav'd but for me.

_Tela._ In love with whom?

_Tim._ I could guess, but you shall pardon me: he will take me
along with him some-whither.

_Tela._ I overheard him ask your opinion of some bodies beauty.

_Tima._ Yes, there it goes, that makes him so youthfull, and
h'as layd by his Crutch, and halts now with a leading staff.

_Enter Leontine with a staff and a looking glass._

_Leon. Timantus_.

_Tim._ Sir.

_Leon._ This Feather is not large enough.

_Tim._ Yes faith, 'tis such [a] one as the rest of the young
Gallants wear.

_Leon. Telamon_, does it doe well?

_Tela._ Sir, it becomes you, or you become it, the rareliest--

_Leon._ Away, dost think so?

_Tela._ Think Sir? I know it. Sir, the _Princess_, is past all
hope of life since the Dwarf was put to death.

_Leon._ Let her be so, I have other matters in hand: but this
same Taylor angers me, he has made my doublet so wide: and see,
the knave has put no points at my arme.

_Tima._ Those will be put to quickly Sir, upon any occasion.

_Leon. Telamon_, have you bid this Dancer come a mornings?

_Tela._ Yes Sir.

_Leon. T[i]mantus_, let me see the glass again: look you how
careless you are grown, is this tooth well put in?

_Tima._ Which Sir?

_Leon._ This Sir.

_Tima._ It shall be.

_Telam._ Me thinks that tooth should put him in mind on's
years: and _Timantus_, stands as if (seeing the _Duke_, in such
a youthfull habit) he were looking in's mouth how old he were.

_Leon._ So, so.

_Tela._ Will you have your Gown sir?

_Leon._ My Gown? why, am I sick? bring me my Sword. [_Exit
Tela._

[_Timantus_,] Let a couple of the great horses be brought out
for us.

_Tima._ He'll kill himself. Why, will you ride Sir:

_Leon._ Ride? Dost thou think I cannot ride?

_Timan._ O yes Sir, I know it: but as I conceive your journey,
you wou'd have it private; and then you were better take a
Coach.

_Leon._ These Coaches make me sick: yet 'tis no matter, let it
be so.

_Enter Telamon with a sword._

_Tel._ Sir, here's your sword.

_Leon._ O well sed: let me see it, I could me thinks
Why _Telamon_, bring me another: what, thinkst thou
I will wear a sword in vain?

_Tela._ He has not strength enough to draw it,
A yoak of Fleas ty'd to a hair would have drawn it.
'Tis out sir now, the Scabbard is broke.

_Leon._ O put it up again, and on with it; me thinks I
am not drest till I feel my sword on.
_Telamon_, if any of my counsell aske for me,
Say I am gone to take the air.

_Tima._ He has not been drest this twenty years then, If
this vain hold but a week, he will learn to play o'th base
violl and sing to't: He's poetical alreadie;
For I have spide a Sonnet on's making lye by's beds side,
I'll be so unmannerly to read it. [_Exit._

_Enter Hidaspes, Cleophila, and Hero, Hidaspes in a Bed._

[_Hida._] He's dead, he's dead, and I am following.

_Cleo._ Ask _Cupid_ mercie Madam.

_Hida._ O my heart.

_Cleo._ Help!

_Hero._ Stir her:

_Hida._ O, O!

_Cleo._ She's going, wretched wom[e]n that we are:
Look to her, and I'll pray the while.

_Hero._ Why Madam? [_Shee kneels._

_Cleo. Cupid_, pardon what is past,
And forgive our sins at last,
Then we will be coy no more,
But thy Deity Adore,
Troths at fifteen we will plight,
And will tread a Dance [each] night.
In the fields, or by the Fire,
With the youths that have desire. (_How does she yet?_)

_Hero._ O ill:

_Cleo._ Given Ear-rings we will wear,
Bracelets of our Lovers hair,
Which they on our Arms shall twist,
With their Names carv'd on our wrist:
All the money that we owe,
We in Tokens will bestow:
And learn to write, that when 'tis sent,
Onely our Loves know what it meant:
O then pardon what is past,
And forgive our Sins at last. (_What, Mends she?_)

_Hero._ Nothing, you do it not wantonly, you shou'd sing.

[_Cleo._ Why?

_Hero._ Leave, leave, 'tis now too late.
Shee is dead: Her last is breathed.]

_Cleo._ What shall we doe.

_Hero._ Go run,
And tell the _Duke_; And whilst I'll close her eyes.
Thus I shut thy faded light,
And put it in eternall night.
Where is she can boldly say
Though she be as fresh as _May_:
She shall not by this Corps be laid,
Ere to morrows light doe fade.
Let us all now living be,
Warn'd by thy strict Chastitie;
And marry all fast as we can,
Till then we keep a piece of man,
Wrongfully from them that owe it
Soon may every Maid bestow it. [_Exeunt._

_Enter Bacha and a Maid._

_Bac._ Who is it?

_Maid._ Forsooth there's [a] gallant Coach at the dore,
And the brave old man in't, that you said was the _Duke_.

_Bacha. Cupid_, grant he may be taken. _Away_:

_Maid._ He is coming up, and looks the swaggeringst, and has
such glorious cloaths.

_Bac._ Let all the house see me sad, and see all handsome.

_Enter Leontius, and Timantus, a Jewell and a Ring._

_Leon._ Nay widow flie not back, we come not now to chide,
stand up and bid me welcome.

_Bac._ To a poor widows house that knows no end of her ill
fortune: your Highness is most welcome.

_Leon._ Come kiss me then, this is but manners widow: Nere
fling your head aside, I have more cause of grief than you: my
Daughters dead: but what? 'Tis nothing. Is the rough _French_
horse brought to the dore? They say he is a high goer, I shall
soon try his mettle.

_Tim._ He will be Sir, and the gray _Barbary_, they are fiery
both.

_Leon._ They are the better: Before the gods I am lightsome,
very lightsome: How doest thou like me widow?

_Bach._ As a person in whom all graces are.

_Leon._ Come, come, ye flatter: I'll clap your cheek for that,
and you shall not be angry.

Hast no _Musick_: Now could I cut three times with ease, and do
a cross point, should shame all your gallants.

_Bacha._ I do believe you, and your self too: Lord what a fine
old _Zany_ my Love has made him! 'Is mine, I am sure: Heaven
make me thankful for him.

[_Leon._] Tell me how old thou art, my pretty sweet heart?

_Timantus._ Your Grace will not buy her, she may trip Sir?

_Bacha._ My sorrow showes me elder then I am by many years.

_Leon._ Thou art so witty I must kiss agen.

_Tima._ Indeed her Age lyes not in her mouth: nere look it
there Sir, she has a better Register, if it be not burnt.

_Leon._ I will kiss thee, I am a fire _Timantus_.

_Tima._ Can you chuse Sir, having such heavenly fire before you?

_Leon._ Widow, guess why I come, I prethee do.

_Bacha._ I cannot Sir, unless you be pleas'd to make a mirth
out of my rudeness: and that I hope your pity will not let ye,
the subject is so Barren: Bite King, Bite, I'll let you play a
while.

_Leon._ Now as I am an honest man, I'll tell thee truely, how
many foot did I Jump yesterday _Timantus_?

_Tim._ Fourteen of your own, and some three fingers.

_Bacha._ This fellow lyes as lightly, as if hee were in cut
Taffata.
Alas good Almanack get thee to Bed, and tell what
weather we shall have to morrow.

_Leon._ Widow I am come in short to be a Suiter.

_Bacha._ For whom?

_Leon._ Why by my troth, I come to wooe thee wench:
And win thee for my self: Nay, look upon me:
I have about me that will do it.

_Bac._ Now Heaven defend me, your Whore [you] shall never:
I thank the Gods, I have a little left me to keep me warm,
and honest: if your grace take not that, I seek no more.

_Leon._ I am so far from taking any thing, I'll add unto
thee.

_Bach._ Such Additions may be for your ease Sir,
Not my honestie: I am well in being single, good Sir seek
another, I am no meat for money.

_Leon._ Shall I fight for thee?
This sword shall cut his throat, that dars lay claim
But to a Finger of thee, but to a look, I would
See such a fellow.

_Bac._ It would be but a cold sight to you:
This is the father of _S. George_ a foot-back,
Can such dry mumming talk.

_Tim._ Before the gods, your grace lookes like _Æneas_.

_Bac._ He looks like his old father upon his back,
Crying to get Aboord.

_Leon._ How shall I win thy love, I pray thee tell me?
I'll marry thee if thou desirest that: That is an honest
Course, I am in good earnest, and presently within this hour,
[I] am mad for thee: prethee deny me not,
For as I live I'll pine thee, but I'll have thee.

_Bacha._ Now he's in the Toyl, I'll hold him fast.

_Tima._ You do not know what 'tis to be a Queen,
Go too you Maid, else what the old man falls short of,
there's others can eech out, when you please to call on 'em.

_Bacha._ I understand you not, Love I adore thee,
Sir, on my knees I give you hearty thanks, for so much
Honoring your humble Hand-mayd above her birth:
Far more her weak deservings, I dare not trust the Envious
tongues of all that must repine at my unworthy rising.
Beside, you have many fair ones in your Kingdome
Born to such worth: O turn your self about
And make a Noble choice.

_Leon._ If I do, let me famish: I will have thee,
Or break up house, and boord here.

_Bac._ Sir, you may command an unwilling woman to obey ye: but
heaven knows--

_Leon._ No more: these half a dozen kisses, and this Jewell,
and every thing I have, and away with me, and clap it up; and
have a boy by morning _Timantus_. let one be sent post for my
son again: and for _Ismenus_, they are scarce twenty miles on
their way yet, by that time we'll be married.

_Tima._ There shall Sir. [_Exeunt._

_Actus Tertii. Scæna Prima._

_Enter Dorialus, Agenor, Nisus._

_Nisus._ Is not this a fine marriage?

_Agenor._ Yes, yes, let it alone.

_Dor._ I, I, the King may marry whom's list, let's talk of
other matters.

_Nis._ Is the _Prince_ coming home certainly?

_Dor._ Yes, yes, he was sent post for yesterday, lets make
haste we'll see how his new Mother-in-law will entertain him.

_Nis._ Why well I warrant you: did you not mark how humbly she
carried her self to us on her marriage day, acknowledging her
own unworthiness, and that she would be our servant.

_Dor._ But mark what's done.

_Nis._ Regard not shew.

_Age._ O God! I knew her when I have been off'red her to be
brought to my bed for five [pound]: whether it could have been
perform'd or no, I know not.

_Nis._ Her Daughters a pretty Lady.

_Dor._ Yes: and having had but mean bringing up, it talks the
pretilest and innocentliest, the Queen will be so angry to hear
her betray her breeding by her language: but I am perswaded
she's well dispos'd.

_Agenor._ I think better than her Mother.

_Nis._ Come, we stay too long. [_Exeunt._

_Enter Leucippus, and Ismenus._

_Isme._ How now man, strook dead with a tale?

_Leu._ No, but with a truth.

_Isme._ Stand [of] your self: can you endure blows, and shrink
at words?

_Leu._ Thou knowst I have told thee all.

_Isme._ But that all's nothing to make you thus: your Sisters
dead.

_Leu._ That's much, but not the most.

_Isme._ Why, for the other let her marry and hang, 'tis no
purpos'd fault of yours: and if your Father will needs have
your cast Whore, you shall shew the duty of a child better in
being contented, and bidding much good doe his good old heart
with her, than in repining thus at it; let her go: what, there
are more wenches man, we'll have another.

_Leu._ O thou art vain, thou knowst I doe not love her:
What shall I doe? I would my tongue had led me
To any other thing, but blasphemy,
So I had mist commending of this woman,
Whom I must reverence now: she is my Mother,
My sin _Ismenus_ has wrought all this ill:
And I beseech thee, to be warn'd by me,
And doe not lye, if any man should aske thee
But _How thou dost_, or _What a clock 'tis now_.
Be sure thou doe not lye, make no excuse
For him that is most near thee: never let
The most officious falsehood scape thy tongue,
For they above (that are intirely truth)
Will make that seed, which thou hast sown
Of lyes, yield miseries a thousand fold
Upon thine head, as they have done on mine.

_Enter Timantus._

_Tim._ Sir, your Highness is welcome home, the _Duke_ and
_Queen_ will presently come forth to you.

_Leu._ I'll wait on them.

_Tima._ Worthy _Ismenus_, I pray you, have you sped in your
wars?

_Isme._ This Rogue mocks me. Well _Timantus_, Pray how have you
sped here at [home] at shovelboord?

_Tim._ Faith reasonable. How many Towns have you taken in this
Summer?

_Isme._ How many Stags have you been at the death of this grass?

_Tima._ A number: 'Pray how is the Province settled?

_Isme._ Prethee how does the dun Nag?

_Tim._ I think you mock me my Lord.

_Isme._ Mock thee? Yes by my troth doe I: why what wouldst thou
have me doe with thee? Art good for any thing else?

_Enter Leontius, Bacha, Dorialus, Agenor, Nisus, Telamon._

_Leu._ My good _Ismenus_, hold me by the wrist:
And if thou see'st me fainting, wring me hard,
For I shall swoon again else.-- [_Kneels._

_Leon._ Welcome my son; rise, I did send for thee
Back from the province, by thy Mothers counsell,
Thy good Mother here, who loves thee well:
She would not let me venture all my joy
Amongst my enemies: I thank thee for her,
And none but thee, I took her on thy word.

_Leucip._ Pinch harder.

_Leon._ And she shall bid thee welcome: I have now
Some near affairs, but I will drink a Health
To thee anon: Come _Telamon_, [Ime] grown
Lustier, I thank thee for't, since I marryed;
I can stand now alone, why _Telamon_,
And never stagger. [_Exit Leontius, Telamon._

_Bac._ Welcome most noble Sir, whose fame is come
Hither before you: out alas you scorn me,
And teach me what to doe.

_Leu._ No, you are my Mother.

_Bacha._ Far unworthy of that name God knows:
But trust me, here before these Lords,
I am no more but Nurse unto the _Duke_;
Nor will I breed a faction in the State,
It is too much for me that I am rais'd
Unto his bed, and will remain the servant
Of you that did it.

_Leu._ Madam I will serve you
As shall become me. O dissembling woman!
Whom I must reverence though. Take from thy
Quiver, sure-aim'd _Apollo_; one of thy swift darts,
Headed with thy consuming golden beams,
And let it melt this body into mist,
That none may find it.

_Bac._ Shall I beg my Lords
This Room in private for the _Prince_ and me?

[_Exeunt all but Leu. and Bach._

_Leu._ What will she say now?

_Bach._ I must still enjoy him:
Yet there is still left in me a spark of woman,
That wishes he [w]ould move it, but he stands,
As if he grew there with his eyes on earth,
Sir, you and I when we were last together
Kept not this distance as we were afraid
Of blasting by our selves.

_Leu._ Madam 'tis true, Heaven pardon it.

_Bach._ Amen Sir.
You may think that I have done you wrong in this strange marriage.

_Leu._ 'Tis past now.

_Bach._ But it was no fault of mine:
The world had call'd me mad, had I refus'd
The King: nor layd I any train to catch him,
It was your own Oaths did it.

_Leu._ 'Tis a truth: that takes my sleep away, but
Would to Heaven, if it had so been pleas'd, you had
Refus'd him, though I had gratifi'd that courtesie
With having you my self: But since 'tis thus,
I doe beseech you that you will be honest
From henceforth; and not abuse his credulous Age,
Which you may easily doe. As for my self
What I can say, you know alas too well
Is ty'd within me, here it will sit like lead,
But shall offend no other, it will pluck me
Back from my ent'rance into any mirth,
As if a servant came, and whisper'd with me
Of some friends death, but I will bear my self,
To you, with all the due obedience
A son owes to a Mother: more than this,
Is not in me, but I must leave the rest to the
Just gods: who in their blessed time,
When they have given me punishment enough,
For my rash Sin, will mercifully find
As unexpected means to ease my grief
As they did now to bring it.

_Bac._ Grown so godly? this must not be.
And I will be to you, no other than a natural Mother ought;
And for my honesty, so you will swear
Never to urge me, I shall keep it safe from any other.

_Leu._ Bless me I should urge you?

_Bacha._ Nay but swear then that I may be at peace,
For I doe feel a weakness in my self,
That can denie you nothing, if you tempt me,
I shall embrace Sin as it were a friend, and run to meet it.

_Leu._ If you knew how far
It were from me, you would not urge an Oath.
But for your satisfaction, when I tempt you.

_Bac._ Swear not: I cannot move him, this sad talk
Of things past help, does not become us well.
Shall I send one for my _Musicians_, and we'll dance?

_Leu._ Dance Madam?

_Bac._ Yes, _Alavalta_.

_Leu._ I cannot dance Madam.

_Bac._ Then lets be merry.

_Leu._ I am as my _Fortunes_ bid me.
Do not you see me sowr?

_Bac._ Yes.
And why think you I smile?

_Leu._ I am so far from any joy my self,
I cannot fancie a cause of mirth.

_Bac._ I'll tell you, we are alone:

_Leu._ Alone?

_Bac._ Yes.

_Leu._ 'Tis true: what then?

_Bac._ What then? you make my smiling now
Break into laughter: what think you is to be done then?

_Leu._ We shou'd pray to Heaven for mercy.

_Bacha._ Pray? that were a way indeed
To pass the time: but I will make you blush,
To see a bashfull woman teach a man
What we should doe alone: try again
If you can find it out.

_Leu._ I dare not think I understand you.

_Bac._ I must teach you then; Come, kiss me.

_Leu._ Kiss you?

_Bac._ Yes, be not asham'd:
You did it not your self, I will forgive you.

_Leuc._ Keep you displeas'd gods, the due respect
I ought to bear unto this wicked woman,
As she is now my Mother, Haste within me,
Lest I add sins to sins, till no repentance will cure me.

_Bac._ Leave these melancholly moods,
That I may swear thee welcome on thy Lipps
A thousand times.

_Leuc._ Pray leave this wicked talk,
You doe not know to what my Fathers wrong
May urge me.

_Bac._ I'm careless, and doe weigh
The world, my life, and all my after hopes
Nothing without thy Love, mistake me not:
Thy Love, as I have had it, free and open
As wedlock is, within it self, what say you?

_Leu._ Nothing.

_Bac._ Pitty me, behold a Duchess
Kneels for thy mercie, and I swear to you
Though I should lye with you, it is no Lust,
For it desires no change, I could with you
Content my self; what answer will you give?

_Leuc._ They that can answer must be less amaz'd,
Than I am now: you see my tears deliver
My meaning to you.

_Bac._ Shall I be contem'd? thou art a beast, worse than a
savage beast,
To let a Lady kneel, to beg that thing
Which a right man would offer.

_Leu._ 'Tis your will Heaven: but let me bear me like
My self, how ever she does.

_Bac._ Were you made an _Eunuch_, since you went hence?
Yet they have more desire than I can find in you:
How fond was I to beg thy love! I'll force thee to my will
Dost thou not know that I can make the King
Dote as my list? yield quickly, or by Heaven
I'll have thee kept in prison for my purpose,
Where I will make thee serve my turn, and have thee fed
With such meats as best shall fit my ends
And not thy health, why dost not speak to me?
And when thou dost displease me, and art grown
Less able to perform; then I will have thee
Kill'd and forgotten: Are you striken dumb?

_Leu._ All you have nam'd but making of me sin
With you, you may command, but never that;
Say what you will, I'll hear you as becomes me,
If you speak, I will not follow your counsell,
Neither will I tell the world to your disgrace,
But give you the just honor
That is due from me to my Father's wife.

_Bac._ Lord how full of wise formality you [are] grown
Of late: but you were telling me
You could have wisht that I had marry'd you,
If you will swear so yet, I'll make away the King.

_Leuc._ You are a strumpet.

_Bacha._ Nay, I care not
For all your Railings: They will Batter walls
And take in Towns, as soon as trouble me:
Tell him, I care not, I shall undoe you only, which is no matter.

_Leu._ I appeal to you still, and for ever, that are
And cannot be other, Madam, I see 'tis in your power
To work your will on him: And I desire you
To lay what trains you will for my wish'd death,
But suffer him to find his quiet grave
In peace; Alas he never did you wrong,
And farther I beseech you pardon me,
For the ill word I gave you, for how ever
You may deserve, it became not me
To call you so, but passion urges me
I know not whither: my heart break now, & ease me ever.

_Bacha._ Pray you get you hence
With your goodly humor, I am weary of you extreamely:

_Leu._ Trust me, so am I of my self too:
Madam, I'll take my leave; gods set all right.

_Bacha._ Amen, Sir, get you gon;
Am I deny'd? it does not trouble me
That I have mov'd, but that I am refus'd:
I have lost my patience: I will make him know
Lust is not Love, for Lust will find a mate
While there are men, and so will I: and more

_Enter_ Timantus.

Than one, or twenty: yonder is _Timantus_,
A fellow void of any worth, to raise himself,
And therefore like to catch at any evil
That will but pluck him up: him will I make
Mine own: _Timantus_.

_Timantus._ Madam?

_Bac._ Thou know'st well
Thou wert by chance, a means of this my raising:
Brought the Duke to me, and though 'twere but chance
I must reward thee.

_Tim._ I shall bend my service unto your Highness.

_Bacha._ But do it then entirely, and in every thing,
And tell me, couldst thou now think that thing
Thou wouldst not do for me?

_Timant._ No by my soul Madam.

_Bacha._ Then thou art right.
Go to my Lodging, and I'll follow thee. [_Exit_ Timantus.
With my instruction I do see already,
This Prince that did but now contemn me, dead:
Yet will I never speak an evil word
Unto his Father of him, till I have won
A belief, I love him, but I'll make
His virtues his undoing, and my praises
Shall be so many swords against his breast,
Which once perform'd, I'll make _Urania_
My Daughter, the Kings heir, and plant my issue
In this large Throne: nor shall it be withstood,
They that begin in Lust, must end in Blood. [_Exit._

_Enter_ Dorialus, Agenor, Nisus.

_Doria._ We live to know a fine time, Gentl.

_Nis._ And a fine Duke, that through his doting age
Suffers him to be a child again
Under his Wives tuition.

_Agen._ All the Land holds in that tenor too: in womans
service? sure we shall learn to spinn.

_Dor._ No, that's too honest: we shall have other
Liberal Sciences taught us too soon;
Lying, and flattering, those are the studies now:
And Murther shortly I know, will be humanity, Gent.
If we live here we must be knaves, believe it.

_Nisus._ I cannot tell my Lord _Dorialus_, though my
Own nature hate it, if all determine to be knaves,
I'll try what I can do upon my self: that's certain,
I will not have my throat cut for my goodness,
The virtue will not quit the pain.

_Age._ But pray you tell me,
Why is the _Prince_, now ripe and full experient,
Not made a dore in the State?

_Nis._ Because he is honest.

_Enter Timantus._

_Tim._ Goodness attend your Honors.

_Dor._ You must not be amongst us then.

_Tim._ The _Dutchess_, whose humble servant I am proud to be,
would speak with you.

_Age._ Sir, we are pleas'd to wait: when is it?

_Tim._ An hour hence my good Lords, and so I leave my service.

_Dor._ This is one of her Ferrets that she bolts business out
withall: this fellow, if he were well ript, has all the linings
of a knave within him: how slye he looks!

_Nis._ Have we nothing about our cloaths that he may catch at?

_Agenor._ O my conscience, there's no treason in my dublet, if
there be, my elbows will discover it, they are out.

_Dor._ Faith, and all the harm that I can find in mine is,
that they are not pay'd for; let him make what he can of that,
so he discharge that. Come, let's go. [_Exeunt._

_Enter Bach, Leontius, Tella._

_Bac._ And you shall find Sir what [a] blessing heaven gave you
in such a son.

_Le._ Pray _gods_, I may, Let's walk & change our subject.

_Bac._ O Sir, can any thing come sweeter to you, or strike a
deeper joy into your heart than your son's virtue?

_Leon._ I allow his virtues: but 'tis not handsome thus to feed
my self with such moderate praises of mine own.

_Bac._ The subject of our comendations is it self grown so
infinite in goodness, that all the glory we can lay upon it,
though we should open volumes of his praises, is a mere modesty
in his expression, and shews him lame still, like an ill
wrought peece wanting proportion.

_Leo._ Yet still he is a man, and subject still to more
inordinate vices, than our love can give him blessing.

_Bac._ Else he were a _god_: yet so near as he is, he comes to
heaven, that we may see so far as flesh can point us things
only worthy them, and only these in all his actions.

_Leon._ This is too much my Queen.

_Bach._ Had the _gods_ lov'd me; that my unworthy womb had bred
this brave man.

_Leon._ Still you run wrong.

_Bach._ I would have liv'd upon the comfort of him; fed on his
growing hopes.

_Leo._ This touches me.

_Bach._ I know no friends, nor Being, but his virtues.

_Le._ You have laid out words enough upon a subject.

_Bach._ But words cannot express him Sir: why what a shape
Heaven has conceiv'd him in, oh Nature made him up!

_Leon._ I wonder _Dutchess_.

_Bach._ So you must: for less than admiration loses this
godlike man.

_Leon._ Have you done with him?

_Bach._ Done with? O good gods what frailties thus pass by us
without reverence!

_Leon._ I see no such perfection.

_Bac._ O dear Sir: you are a father, and those joys
To you, speak in your heart, not in your tongue.

_Leo._ This leaves a tast behind it worse than physick.

_Bac[h]._ Then for all his wisdome, valour,
Good fortune, and all those friends of honor,
They are in him as free and natural, as passions
In a Woman.

_Leon._ You make me blush at all these years
To see how blindly you have flung your praises
Upon a Boy, a very child, and worthless,
Whilst I live, of these Honors.

_Bac._ I would not have my love Sir, make my tongue
Shew me so much a woman: as to praise
Or dispraise, where my will is, without reason,
Or generall allowance of the people.

_Leon._ Allowance of the people, what allow they?

_Bac._ All, I have sed for truth, and they must do it,
And doat upon him: love him, and admire him.

_Leon._ How's that?

_Bac._ For in this youth and noble forwardness
All things are bound together that are kingly,
A fitness to bear rule:

_Leon._ No more.

_Bac._ And Sovereignty not made to know command.

_Leon._ I have sed, no more.

_Bac._ I have done Sir, though unwilling, and pardon me.

_Leon._ I do, not a word more.

_Bac[h]._ I have gi'n thee poyson
Of more infection than the Dragons tooth,
Or the gross Air o'er heated.

_Leon. Timantus_ when saw you the Prince?

_Tim._ I left him now Sir.

_Leon._ Tell me truely, out of your free opinion without
courting. How you like him.

_Tim._ How I like him?

_Leon._ Yes: for you in conversation may see more
Than a Father.

_Bac._ It works.

_Timantus._ Your Grace has chosen out an ill observer.

_Leon._ Yes, I mean of his ill: you talk rightly.

_Tim._ But you take me wrong: All I know by him
I dare deliver boldly: He is the storehouse
And head of virtue; your great self excepted,
That feeds the Kingdome.

_Leon._ These are flatteries: speak me his vices, there you
do a service worth a Fathers thanks.

_Tim._ Sir, I cannot. If there be any, sure they are the
times which I could wish less dangerous.
But pardon me, I am too bold.

_Leon._ [You] are not, forward and open what these dangers are.

_Timan._ Nay, good Sir.

_Leon._ Nay, fall not off again, I will have all.

_Timan._ Alas Sir, what am I, you should believe
My eyes or ears, so subtle to observe
Faults in a State: all my main business
Is service to your Grace, and necessaries
For my poor life.

_Leon._ Do not displease me Sirrah,
But that you know tell me, and presently.

_Timan._ Since your Grace will have it
I'll speak it freely: Alwayes my obedience
And love preserv'd unto the Prince.

_Leon._ Prethee to the matter.

_Tim._ For Sir, if you consider
How like a Sun in all his great employments,
How full of heat.

_Leon._ Make me understand what I desire.

_Tim._ And then at his return.

_Leon._ Do not anger me.

_Tim._ Then thus Sir: All mislike ye,
As they would do the gods, if they did dwell with 'em.

_Leon._ What?

_Tim._ Talke and prate, as their ignorant rages
Leads 'em without Alleageance or Religion.
For Heavens sake have a care of your own person:
I cannot tell, their wickedness may lead
Farther than I dare think yet.

_Leo._ O base people.

_Tim._ Yet the Prince, for whom this is pretended may
Persuade 'em, and no doubt will: virtue is ever watchfull,
But be you still secur'd and comforted.

_Leon._ Heaven how have I offended, that this rod
So heavy and unnaturall, should fall upon me
When I am old and helpless.

_Tim._ Brave Gentl. that such a madding love should follow
thee, to rob thee of a Father:
All the Court is full of dangerous whispers.

_Leon._ I perceive it, and 'spight of all their strengths
Will make my safety: I'll cut him shorter.
I'll cut him shorter first, then let him rule.

_Bach._ What a foul Age is this, when Virtue is made a
sword to smite the virtuous! Alas, alas:

_Leon._ I'll teach him to fly lower.

_Tim._ By no means Sir, rather, make more your love,
And hold your favor to him: for 'tis now
Impossible to yoke him, if his thoughts,
As I must ne'er believe, run with their rages,
He never was so innocent, but what reason
His Grace has to withdraw his love from me,
And other good men that are near your person,
I cannot yet find out: I know my duty
Has ever been attending.

_Leon._ 'Tis too plain: He means to play the villain,
I'll prevent him, not a word more of this, be private.

[_Exit Leontius._

_Tim._ Madam 'tis done.

_Bac._ He cannot escape me. Have you spoken with the noble men?

_Tim._ Yes Madam they are here: I wait a farther service.

_Bac._ Till [you see] the Prince, you need no more
instructions.

_Tim._ No, I have it. [_Exit Timantus._

_Enter Dorialus, Nisus, Agenor._

_Bac._ That fool that willingly provoks a woman,
Has made himself another evill Angell,
And a new Hell, to which all other torments
Are but mere pastime: Now my noble Lords,
You must excuse me, that unmannerly
We have broke your private business.

_Agen._ Your good Grace may command us, and that.

_Bac._ Faith my Lord _Agenor_: 'Tis so good a cause
I am confident, you cannot loose by it.

_Dorialus._ Which way does she fish now?
The devill is but a fool to a right woman.

_Nisus._ Madam, we must needs win in doing service to
such a gracious Lady.

_Bac._ I thank you, and will let you know the business:
So I may have your helps, never be doubtfull,
For 'tis so just a cause, and will to you
Upon the knowledge seem so honorable,
That I assure my self your willing hearts
Will strait be for me in it.

_Age._ If she should prove good now, what wer't like?

_Dorial._ Thunder in _Januarie_, or a good woman,
That's stranger than all _Affrick_.

_Bac._ It shall not need your wonder, this it is:
The Duke you know is old, and rather subject
To ease and prayers now, than all those troubles,
Cares, and continuall watchings, that attend
A Kingdomes safety, therefore to prevent
The fall of such a flourishing Estate
As this has [ever] been, and to put off
The murmure of the people that encrease
Against my government, which the gods knows
I onely feel the trouble of: I present
The Prince unto your loves, a Gent.
In whom all Excellencies are knit together,
All peeces of a true man, let your prayers
Win from the Duke half his Vexation,
That he may undertake it, whose discretion
I must confess, though it be from the Father,
Yet now is stronger, and more apt to govern.
'Tis not my own desire, but all the Lands,
I know the weakeness of it.

_Nisus._ Madam, this noble care and love has won us
For ever to your lives, we'll to the King,
And since your Grace has put it in our mouths,
We'll win him with the cunning'st words we can.

_Dorial._ I was never cousen'd in a woman before.
For commonly they are like Apples: If once they bruise
They will grow rotten thorow, and serve for nothing but to
asswage swellings.

_Bac._ Good Lords delay no time, since 'tis your good
Pleasures to think my counsell good, and by no means
Let the Prince know it, whose affections
Will stir mainly against it: besides his Father
May hold him dangerous, if it be not carried
So that his forward will appear not in it,
Go, and be happy.

_Dorial._ Well, I would not be Chronicl'd as thou
Wilt be for a good woman, for all the world.

_Nisus._ Madam, we kiss your hand, and so inspire.
Nothing but happiness can crown our prayers. [_Exeunt._

_Actus Quart[us]. Scæna Prima._

_Enter Leucippus, Ismenus._

_Leu._ And thus she has us'd me, is't not a good mother?

_Ismenus._ Why kill'd you her not?

_Leu._ The gods forbid it.

_Ismenus._ S'light, if all the women i'th' world were barren,
shee had dy'd.

_Leuc._ But 'tis not reason directs thee thus.

_Ismen._ Then have I none at all, for all I have in me
Directs me: Your Father's in a pretty rage.

_Leucippus._ Why?

_Ismenus._ Nay, 'tis well, if he know himself, but some of the
Nobility have deliver'd a petition to him: what's in't, I know
not, but it has put him to his trumps: he has taken a months
time to answer it, and chafes like himself.

_Enter Leontius, Bacha, and Tellamon._

_Leu._ He's here _Ismenus_.

_Leon._ Set me down _Tellamon_. _Leucippus._

_Leu._ Sir.

_Bach._ Nay good Sir, be at peace, I dare swear he kn[ew] not
of it.

_Leon._ You are foolish: peace.

_Bach._ All will go ill, deny it boldly Sir, trust me he cannot
prove it by you.

_Leu._ What?

_Bach._ You'll make all worse too with your facing it.

_Leuc._ What is the matter?

_Leon._ Know'st thou that petition?
Look on it well: wouldst thou be joyn'd with me
(Unnaturall child to be weary of me)
E'r Fate esteem me fit for other worlds.

_Bac._ May be he knows not of it.

_Leu._ Oh strange carriages!
Sir, as I have hope that there is any thing
To reward doing well, my usages
Which have been (but 'tis no matter what)
Have put me so far from the thought of Greatness,
That I should welcome it like a disease
That grew upon me, and I could not cure.
They are my enemies that gave you this,
And yet they call me friend, and are themselves
I fear abus'd. I am weary of my life,
For Gods sake take it from me: it creates
More mischief in the State than it is worth,
The usage I have had, I know would make
Wisdom her self run frantick through the streets,
And Patience quarrel with her shadow.
Sir, this sword--

_Bac._ Alas! help for the love of Heaven,
Make way through me first, for he is your Father.

_Leon._ What, would he kill me?

_Bac._ No Sir, no.

_Leon._ Thou always [mak'st] the best on't, but I fear--

_Leu._ Why do you use me thus? who is't can think
That I would kill my Father, that can yet
Forbear to kill you? Here Sir, is my sword;
I dare not touch it, lest she say again
I would have kill'd you: let me not have mercy
When I most need it, if I would not change
Place with my meanest servant. Let these faults
Be mended Madam: if you saw how ill
They did become you, you would part with them.

_Bac._ I told the Duke as much before.

_Leu._ What? what did you tell him?

_Bac._ That it was only an ambition,
Nurst in you by your youth, provok'd you thus,
Which age would take away.

_Leon._ It was his doing then? come hither Love.

_Bac._ No indeed, Sir.

_Leu._ How am I made, that I can bear all this?
If any one had us'd a friend of mine [nere] this,
My hand had carried death about it.

_Leon._ Lead me hence _Tellamon_: come my dear
_Bacha_, I shall find time for this.

_Ism._ Madam, you know I dare not speak before
The King; but you know well, if not, I'll tell [it] you,
You are the most wicked'st, and most murderous
Strumpet, that ever was call'd Woman.

_Bac._ My Lord, what can I do for him? he shall command me.

_Leon._ I know thou art too kind; away I say.

[_Exit_ Leon. Bac. Tima. Telia.

_Isme._ Sir, I am sure we dream, this cannot be.

_Leu._ Oh that we did, my wickedness has brought
All this to pass, else I should bear my self.

_Enter_ Urania.

_Isme._ Look, doe you see who's there? your virtuous Mothers
issue: kill her, yet take some little pidling revenge.

_Leu._ Away, the whole Court calls her virtuous; for they say,
she is unlike her Mother, and if so, she can have no vice.

_Ism._ I'll trust none of 'em that come of such a breed.

_Leu._ But I have found
A kind of love in her to me: alas,
Think of her death! I dare be sworn for her,
She is as free from any hate to me
As her bad Mother's full. She was brought up
I'th' Countrey, as her tongue will let you know

_Enter_ Urania.

If you but talk with her, with a poor Uncle,
Such as her Mother had.

_Ism._ She's come again.

_Ura._ I would fene speak to the good Marquess my brother, if I
but thought he could abaid me.

_Leu._ Sister, how do you?

_Ura._ Very well I thank you.

_Ism._ How does your good Mother?

_Leu._ Fie, fie, _Ismenus_ for shame, mock such an innocent
soul as this.

_Ura._ Feth a she be no good, [G]od may her so.

_Leu._ I know you wish it with your heart dear Sister, but she
is good I hope.

_Ism._ Are you so simple, to make so much of this?
Do you not know,
That all her wicked Mother labours for, is but to raise
Her to your right, and leave her this Dukedom?

_Ura._ I, but ne'r Sir be afred;
For though she take th' ungain'st weas she can,
I'll ne'er ha't fro' you.

_Leu._ I should hate my self _Ismenus_;
If I should think of her simplicity,
Ought but extreamly well.

_Ism._ Nay, as you will.

_Ura._ And though she be my Mother,
If she take any caurse to do you wrong,
If I can see't, youst quickly hear on't Sir:
And so I'll take my leave.

_Leu._ Farewel good Sister, I thank you. [_Exit_ Urania.

_Ism._ You believe all this.

_Leu._ Yes.

_Enter_ Timantus.

_Ism._ A good faith doth well, but methinks
It were no hard matter now, for her Mother to send her:
Yonder's one you may trust if you will too.

_Leu._ So I will, if he can shew me as apparent signs
Of truth as she did; Does he weep _Ismenus_?

_Ism._ Yes, I think so: some good's happen'd I warrant:
Do you hear, you? What honest man has scap'd misery, that
[you are] crying thus?

_Tim._ Noble _Ismenus_, where's the Prince?

_Ism._ Why there! hast wept thine eyes out?

_Tim._ Sir, I beseech you hear me.

_Leu._ Well, speak on.

_Ism._ Why, will you hear him?

_Leu._ Yes _Ismenus_, why?

_Ism._ I would hear blasphemy as willingly.

_Leu._ You are [to] blame.

_Tim._ No Sir: he is not to blame:
If I were as I was.

_Ism._ Nor as thou art, yfaith awhit [to] blame.

_Leu._ What's your business?

_Tim._ Faith Sir, I am ashamed to speak before you,
My conscience tells me I have injur'd you,
And by the earnest instigation
Of others, have not done you to the King
Always the best and friendliest offices;
Which pardon me, or I will never speak.

_Ism._ Never pardon him and silence a knave.

_Leu._ I pardon thee.

_Tim._ Your Mother sure is naught.

_Leu._ Why shouldst thou think so?

_Tim._ Oh noble, Sir, your honest eyes perceive not
The dangers you are led to; shame upon her,
And what fell miseries the gods can think on
Shower down upon her wicked head, she has plotted
I know too well your death: would my poor life
Or thousand[s] such as mine is, might be offer'd
Like sacrifices up for your preserving,
What free oblations would she have to glut her,
But she is merciless, and bent to ruin;
If heaven and good men step not to your rescue,
And timely, very timely: Oh this Dukedom!
I weep, I weep for the poor Orphans i'th' Countrey
Left with but Friends or Parents.

_Leu._ Now _Ismenus_, what think you of this fellow?
This was a lying knave, a flatterer,
Does not this Love still shew him so.

_Ism._ This Love? this Halter: if he prove not yet
The cunning'st rankest rogue that ever Canted,
I'll never see man again: I know him to bring,
And can interpret every new face he makes;
Look how he wrings like a good stool for a tear:
Take heed, Children and Fools
First feel the smart, Then weep.

_Leu._ Away, away, such an unkind distrust,
Is worse than a dissembling, if it be one,
And sooner leads to mischief, I believe it,
And him an honest man: he could not carry
Under an evil cause, so true a sorrow.

_Ism._ Take heed, this is your Mothers scorpion,
That carries stings even in his tears,
Whose soul is a rank poison through: Touch
Not at him, if you do, you are gone, if you had twenty
Lives: I knew him for a Roguish boy, when
He would poison Dogs, and keep tame Toads,
He lay with his Mother, and infected her, and now
She begs i'th' Hospital, with a patch of Velvet,
Where her Nose stood: like the Queen of Spades.
And all her teeth in her purse, the Devil and this
Fellow are so near, 'Tis not yet known which is the eviler Angel.

_Leu._ Nay, then I see 'tis spite: Come hither friend.
Hast thou not heard the cause yet that incens'd my Mother
to my death, for I protest I feel none in my self?

_Tim._ Her Will Sir, and Ambition, as I think,
Are the provokers of it, as in Women,
Those two are ever powerful to destruction,
Beside a hate of your still growing virtues,
She being only wicked.

_Leu._ Heavens defend me as I am innocent,
And ever have been from all immoderate thoughts and
Actions, that carry such rewards along w[i]th 'em.

_Tim._ Sir, all I know, my duty must reveal,
My Countrey and my Love command it from me,
For whom I'll lay my life down: this night coming,
A Counsel is appointed by the Duke,
To sit about your apprehension:
If you dare trust my faith: which by all good things
Shall ever watch about you: goe along,
And to a place I'll guide you: where no word
Shall scape without your hearing, nor no plot
Without discovering to you, which once known, you have your
answers and prevention.

_Ism._ You are not so mad to goe; shift off this fellow, you
shall be rul'd once by a wise man: Ratsbane get you gone, or--

_Leu._ Peace, peace for shame, thy love is too suspitious, 'tis
a way offer'd to preserve my life, and I will take it: be my
Guide _Timantus_ and do not mind this angry man, thou know'st
him: I may live to requite thee.

_Tim._ Sir, this service is done for virtues sake, not for
reward, however he may hold me.

_Ism._ The great pox on you: but thou hast that curse so much,
'twill grow a blessing in thee shortly. Sir, for wisdoms sake
court not your death, I am your friend and subject, and I shall
lose in both: if I lov'd you not, I would laugh at you, and see
you run your neck into the noose, and cry a Woodcock.

_Leu._ So much of man, and so much fearful; fie, prethee have
peace within thee: I shall live yet many a golden day to hold
thee here dearest and nearest to me: Go on _Timantus_, I charge
you by your love no more, no more. [_Exeunt_ Leu. Tim.

_Ism._ Goe, and let your own rod whip you:
I pity you. And dog, if he miscarry thou shalt pay for't,
I'll study for thy punishment, and it shall last
Longer and sharper than a tedious Winter,
Till thou blasphem'st, and then thou diest and damn'st. [_Exit._

_Enter_ Leontius _and_ Tellamon.

_Leon._ I wonder the Dutchess comes not.

_Tel._ She has heard, Sir, your Will to speak with her:
But there is something leaden at her heart;
(Pray God it be not mortal) that even keeps her
From conversation with her self.

_Enter the Dutchess._

_B._ Oh whither will you my cross affections pull me?
Fortune, Fate, and you whose powers direct our actions,
And dwell within us: you that are Angels
Guiding to virtue, wherefore have you given
So strong a hand to evil? wherefore suffer'd
A Temple of your own, you Deities
Where your fair selves dwelt only, and your goodness
Thus to be soyl'd with sin?

_Leon._ Heaven bless us all.
From whence comes this distemper? speak my fair one.

_Bac._ And have you none, Love and Obedience,
You[r] ever faithful Servants to imploy
In this strange story of impiety,
But me a Mother; Must I be your strumpet?
To lay black Treason upon, and in him,
In whom all sweetness was: in whom my love
Was [proud] to have a Being, in whom Justice,
And all the gods for our imaginations
Can work into a man, were more than virtues,
Ambition down to hell, where thou wert foster'd,
Thou hast poison'd the best soul, the purest, whitest,
And meerest innocent'st it self that ever
Mens greedy hopes gave life to.

_Leon._ This is still stranger: lay this treason
Open to my correction.

_Bac._ Oh what a combat duty and affection
Breeds in my blood!

_Leon._ If thou conceal'st him, may,
Beside my death, the curses of the Countrey,
Troubles of conscience, and a wretched end,
Bring thee unto a poor forgotten grave.

_Bach._ My Being: for another tongue to tell it,
Cease, a Mother! some good man that dares
Speak for his King and Countrey: I am full
Of too much womans pity: yet oh Heaven,
Since it concerns the safety of my Sovereign,
Let it not be a cruelty in me,
Nor draw a Mothers name in question,
Amongst unborn people, to give up that man
To Law and Justice, that unrighteously
Has sought his Fathers death: be deaf: be deaf Sir,
Your Son is the offender: Now have you all,
Would I might never speak again.

_Leon._ My Son! Heaven help me.
No more! I thought it, and since
His life is grown so dangerous: Let them that
Gave him, take him: he shall dye,
And with him all my fears.

_Bac._ Oh use your mercy: you have a brave subject
To bestow it on. I'll forgive him, Sir; and for his
Wrong to me, I'll be before ye.

_Leon._ Durst his villany extend to thee?

_Bac._ Nothing but heats of youth, Sir.

_Leon._ Upon my life he sought my bed.

_Bacha._ I must confess he loved me
Somewhat beyond a Son: and still pursu'd it
With such a Lust, I will not say _Ambition_:
That clean forgetting all obedience,
And only following his first heat unto me,
He hotly sought your death, and me in Marriage.

_Leon._ Oh Villain!

_Bac._ But I forget all: and am half asham'd
To press a man so far.

_Enter_ Timantus.

_Tim._ Where is the Duke? for Gods sake bring me to him:

_Leon._ Here I am: each corner of the Dukedom
Sends new affrights forth: what wouldst thou? speak.

_Tim._ I cannot Sir, my fear ties up my tongue:

_Leon._ Why, what's the matter? Take thy courage
To thee, and boldly speak, where are the Guard?
In the gods name, out with it:

_Tim._ Treason, treason.

_Leon._ In whom?

_Bacha._ Double the Guard.

_Tim._ There is a fellow, Sir.

_Leon._ Leave shaking man.

_Timan._ 'Tis not for fear, but wonder.

_Leon._ Well.

_Timan._ There is a fellow, Sir, close i'th' Lobby:
You o'the Guard, look to the door there.

_Leon._ But let me know the business.

_Tima._ Oh that the hearts of men should be so hard'ned
Against so good a Duke, for Gods sake, Sir,
Seek means to save your self; This wretched slave
Has his sword in his hand, I know his heart:
Oh it hath almost kill'd me with the thought of it.

_Leon._ Where is he?

_Enter the Guard, and bring him in._

_Timan._ I'th' Lobby Sir, close in a corner:
Look to your selves for Heavens sake,
Me thinks he is here already.
Fellows of the Guard be valiant.

_Leon._ Goe Sirs, and apprehend him; Treason shall
Never dare me in mine own Gates.

_Tim._ 'Tis done. [_There they bring the Prince in._

_Bacha._ And thou shalt find it to thy best content.