Chapter V: Part 5

_Pand._ I would you had, Sir, it were the sweeter grace for your
legs; get on your Gloves, are they perfum'd?

_Mer._ A pretty wash I'll assure you.

_Pand._ 'Twill serve: your offers must be full of bounty, Velvets
to furnish a Gown, Silks for Peticoats and Foreparts, Shag for
lining; forget not some pretty Jewel to fasten, after some little
compliment: if she deny this courtesie, double your bounties, be
not wanting in abundance, fulness of gifts, link'd with a pleasing
tongue, will win an Anchorite. Sir, ye are my friend, and friend to
all that professes good Letters; I must not use this office else,
it fits not for a Scholar, and a Gentleman: those stockin[g]s are
of _Naples_, they are silk?

_Mer._ Ye are again beside your Text, Sir, they're of the best of
Wooll, and [they cleeped] Jersey.

_Pan._ Sure they are very dear.

_Mer._ Nine shillings, by my love to learning.

_Pan._ Pardon my judgement, we Scholars use no other objects, but
our Books.

_Mer._ There is one thing entomb'd in that grave breast, that makes
me equally admire it with your Scholarship.

_Pand._ Sir; but that in modesty I am bound not to affect mine own
commendation, I would enquire it of you.

_Merc._ Sure you are very honest; and yet ye have a kind of modest
fear to shew it: do not deny it, that face of yours is a worthy,
learned modest face.

_Pand._ Sir, I can blush.

_Mer._ Virtue and grace are always pair'd together: but I will
leave to stirr your bloud Sir, and now to our business.

_Pand._ Forget not my instructions.

_Mer._ I apprehend ye Sir, I will gather my self together with my
best phrases, and so I shall discourse in some sort takingly.

_Pand._ This was well worded Sir, and like a Scholar.

_Mer._ The Muses favour me as my intents are virtuous;
Sir, ye shall be my Tutor, 'tis never too late Sir, to love
Learning.
When I can once speak true Latine--

_Pand._ What do you intend Sir?

_Mer._ Marry I will then begger all your bawdy Writers, and
undertake, at the peril of my own invention, all Pageants, Poesies
for Chimneys, Speeches for the Dukes entertainment, whensoever and
whatsoever; nay I will build, at mine own charge, an Hospital, to
which shall retire all diseased opinions, all broken Poets, all
Prose-men that are fall'n from small sence, to meer Letters; and it
shall be lawful for a Lawyer, if he be a civil man, though he have
undone others and himself by the language, to retire to this poor
life, and learn to be honest.

_Pand._ Sir, ye are very good, and very charitable: ye are a true
pattern for the City Sir.

_Merc._ Sir, I doe know sufficiently, their Shop-books cannot save
them, there is a farther end--

_Pand._ Oh Sir, much may be done by manuscript.

_Mer._ I do confess it Sir, provided still they be Canonical, and
[have] some worthy hands set to 'um for probation: but we forget
our selves.

_Pand._ Sir, enter when you please, and all good language tip your
tongue.

_Merc._ All that love Learning pray for my good success.

[_Exit Mercer._

_Actus Quartus. Scæna Tertia._

_Enter_ Lazarello _and his Boy_.

_Laz._ [Boy, whereabouts] are we?

_Boy._ Sir, by all tokens this is the house, bawdy I am sure, [by]
the broken windows, the Fish head is within; if ye dare venture,
here you may surprize it.

_Laz._ The misery of man may fitly be compar'd to a Didapper, who
when she is under water, past our sight, and indeed can seem no
more to us, rises again; shakes but her self, and is the same she
was, so is it still with transitory man, this day: oh but an hour
since, and I was mighty, mighty in knowledge, mighty in my hopes,
mighty in blessed means, and was so truly happy, that I durst have
said, live _Lazarello_, and be satisfied: but now--

_Boy._ Sir, ye are yet afloat, and may recover, be not your own
wreck, here lies the harbor, goe in and ride at ease.

_Laz._ Boy, I am receiv'd to be a Gentleman, a Courtier, and a man
of action, modest, and wise, and be it spoken with thy reverence,
Child, abounding virtuous; and wouldst thou have a man of these
choise habits, covet the cover of a bawdy-house? yet if I goe not
in, I am but--

_Boy._ But what Sir?

_Laz._ Dust boy, but dust, and my soul unsatisfied shall haunt the
keepers of my blessed Saint, and I will appear.

_Boy._ An ass to all men; Sir, these are no means to stay your
appetite, you must resolve to enter.

_Laz._ Were not the house subject to Martial Law--

_Boy._ If that be all, Sir, ye may enter, for ye can know nothing
here that the Court is ignorant of, only the more eyes shall look
upon you, for there they wink one at anothers faults.

_Laz._ If I doe not.

_Boy._ Then ye must beat fairly back again, fall to your physical
mess of porridge, and the twice sack'd carkass of a Capon: Fortune
may favour you so much, to send the bread to it: but it's a mee[re]
venture, and money may be put out upon it.

_Laz._ I will go in and live; pretend some love to the Gentlewoman,
screw my self in affection, and so be satisfied.

_Pan._ This Fly is caught, is mash'd already, I will suck him, and
lay him by.

_Boy._ Muffle your self in your cloak by any means, 'tis a receiv'd
thing among gallants, to walk to their leachery, as though they had
the rheum, 'twas well you brought not your horse.

_Laz._ Why Boy?

_Boy._ Faith Sir, 'tis the fashion of our Gentry, to have their
horses wait at door like men, while the beasts their Masters, are
within at rack and manger, 'twould have discover'd much.

_Laz._ I will lay by these habits, forms, and grave respects of
what I am, and be my self; only my appetite, my fire, my soul, my
being, my dear appetite shall go along with me, arm'd with whose
strength, I fearless will attempt the greatest danger dare oppose
my fury: I am resolv'd where ever that thou art, most sacred dish,
hid from unhallow'd eyes, to find thee out.

Be'st thou in Hell, rap't by _Proserpina_,
To be a rival in black _Pluto's_ love;
Or mov'st thou in the heavens, a form Divine:
Lashing the lazie Sphear[s],
Or if thou be'st return'd to thy first Being,
Thy mother Sea, the[re] will I seek thee forth.
Earth, Air, nor Fire,
Nor the black shades below shall bar my sight
So daring is my powerful appetite.

_Boy._ Sir, you may save this long voyage, and take a shorter
cut: you have forgot your self, the fish head's here, your own
imaginations have made you mad.

_Laz._ Term it a jealous fury, good my boy.

_Boy._ Faith Sir term it what you will, you must use other terms
[ere] you can get it.

_Laz._ The looks of my sweet love are fair,
Fresh and feeding as the air.

_Boy._ Sir, you forget your self.

_Laz._ Was never seen so rare a head,
Of any Fish alive or dead.

_Boy._ Good Sir remember: this is the house, Sir.

_Laz._ Cursed be he that dare not venture.

_Boy._ Pity your self, Sir, and leave this fury.

_Laz._ For such a prize, and so I enter.

[_Exit_ Lazarello _and Boy_.

_Pan._ Dun's i'th' mire, get out again how he can:
My honest gallant, I'll shew you one trick more
Than e'er the fool your father dream'd of yet.
_Madona Julia_?

_Enter_ Madona Julia, _a Whore_.

_Julia._ What news my sweet rogue, my dear sins-broker, what? good
news?

_Pan._ There is a kind of ignorant thing,
Much like a Courtier, now gone in.

_Jul._ Is he gallant?

_Pan._ He shines not very gloriously, nor does he wear one skin
perfum'd to keep the other sweet; his coat is not in _Or_, nor
does the world run yet on wheels with him; he's rich enough, and
has a small thing follows him, like to a boat tyed to a tall ships
tail: give him entertainment, be light, and flashing like a Meteor,
hug him about the neck, give him a kiss, and lisping cry, good
Sir; and he's thine own, as fast as he were tied to thine arms by
Indenture[s].

_Jul._ I dare doe more than this, if he be o'th' true Court cut;
I'll take him out a lesson worth the Learning: but we are but their
Apes; what's he worth?

_Pan._ Be he rich, or poor; if he will take thee with him, thou
maist use thy trade [free] from Constables, and Marshals: who hath
been here since I went out?

_Jul._ There is a Gentlewoman sent hither by a Lord, she's a piece
of dainty stuff my rogue, smooth and soft, as new Sattin; she was
never gumm'd yet boy, nor fretted.

_Pan._ Where lies she?

_Jul._ She lies above, towards the street, not to be spoke with,
but by [the] Lord that sent her, or some from him, we have in
charge from his servants.

_Enter_ Lazarello.

_Pan._ Peace, he comes out again upon discovery; up with all your
Canvas, hale him in; and when thou hast done, clap him aboard
bravely, my valiant Pinnace.

_Jul._ Begone, I shall doe reason with him.

_Laz._ Are you the special beauty of this house?

_Jul._ Sir, you have given it a more special regard by your good
language, than these black brows can merit.

_Laz._ Lady, you are fair.

_Jul._ Fair Sir? I thank ye; all the poor means I have left to be
thought grateful, is but a kiss, and ye shall have it Sir.

_Laz._ Ye have a very moving lip.

_Jul._ Prove it again Sir, it may be your sense was set too high,
and so over-wrought it self.

_Laz._ 'Tis still the same: how far may ye hold the time to be
spent Lady?

_Jul._ Four a clock, Sir.

_Laz._ I have not eat to day.

_Jul._ You will have the better stomach to your supper; in the mean
time I'll feed you with delight.

_Laz._ 'Tis not so good upon an empty stomach: if it might be
without the trouble of your house, I would eat?

_Jul._ Sir, we can have a Capon ready.

_Laz._ The day?

_Jul._ 'Tis Friday, Sir.

_Laz._ I do eat little flesh upon these days.

_Jul._ Come sweet, ye shall not think on meat; I'll drown it with a
better appetite.

_Laz._ I feel it work more strangely, I must eat.

_Jul._ 'Tis now too late to send; I say ye shall not think on meat:
if ye do, by this kiss I'll be angry.

_Laz._ I could be far more sprightful, had I eaten, and more
lasting.

_Jul._ What will you have Sir? name but the Fish, my Maid shall
bring it, if it may be got.

_Laz._ Methinks your house should not be so unfurnish'd, as not to
have some pretty modicum.

_Jul._ It is [so] now: but you'd ye stay till supper?

_Laz._ Sure I have offended highly, and much, and my [infl]ictions
makes it manifest, I will retire henceforth, and keep my chamber,
live privately, and dye forgotten.

_Jul._ Sir, I must crave your pardon, I had forgot my self; I have
a dish of meat within, and it is fish; I think this Dukedom holds
not a daintier: 'tis an _Umbranoes_ head.

_Laz._ [Lady, this] kiss is yours, and this.

_Jul._ Hoe! within there! cover the board, and set the Fish head on
it.

_Laz._ Now am I so truly happy, so much above all fate and fortune,
that I should despise that man, durst say, remember _Lazarello_,
thou art mortal.

_Enter Intelligencers with a Guard._

_2 Int._ This is the villain, lay [hands] on him.

_Laz._ Gentlemen, why am I thus intreated? what is the nature of my
crime?

_2 Int._ Sir, though you have carried it a great while privately,
and (as you think) well; yet we have seen you Sir, and we do know
thee _Lazarello_, for a Traitor.

_Laz._ The gods defend our Duke.

_2 Int._ Amen, Sir, Sir, this cannot save that stiff neck from the
halter.

_Jul._ Gentlemen, I am glad you have discover'd him, he should not
have eaten under my roof for twenty pounds; and surely I did not
like him, when he call'd for Fish. _Laz._ My friends, will ye let
me have that little favour--

_1 Int._ Sir, ye shall have Law, and nothing else.

_Laz._ To let me stay the eating of a bit or two, for I protest I
am yet fasting.

_Jul._ I'll have no Traitor come within my house.

_Laz._ Now could I wish my self I had been a Traitor, I have
strength enough for to endure it, had I but patience: Man thou art
but grass, thou art a bubble, and thou must perish.

Then lead along, I am prepar'd for all:
Since I have lost my hopes, welcome my fall.

_2 Int._ Away Sir.

_Laz._ As thou hast hope of man, stay but this dish this two hours,
I doubt not but I shall be discharged: by this light I will marry
thee.

_Jul._ You shall marry me first then.

_Laz._ I do contract my self unto thee now, before these Gentlemen.

_Jul._ I'll preserve it till you be hang'd or quitted.

_Laz._ Thanks, thanks.

_2 Int._ Away, away, you shall thank her at the gallows.

_Laz._ Adieu, adieu. [_Exeunt_ Laz. _2 Int. and Guard._

_Jul._ If he live I'll have him, if he be hang'd, there's no loss
in it. [_Exit._

_Enter_ Oriana _and her waiting woman, looking out at a window_.

_Orian._ Hast thou provided one to bear my Letter to my brother?

_Wait._ I have enquir'd, but they of the house will suffer no
Letter nor message to be carried from you, but such as the Lord
_Gondarino_ shall be acquainted with: truly Madam I suspect the
house to be no better than it should be.

_Ori._ What dost thou doubt?

_Wait._ Faith I am loth to tell it, Madam.

_Ori._ Out with it, 'tis not true modesty to fear to speak that
thou dost think.

_Wait._ I think it [be] one of these [same] Bawdy houses.

_Ori._ 'Tis no matter wench, we are warm in it, keep thou thy mind
pure, and upon my word, that name will do thee no hurt: I cannot
force my self yet to fear any thing; when I do get out, I'll [have]
another encounter with my Woman-Hater. Here will I sit. I may get
sight of some of my friends, it must needs be a comfort to them to
see me here.

_Enter_ Duke, Gondarino, Count, Arrigo.

_Gond._ Are we all sufficiently disguis'd? for this house where she
attends me, is not to be visited in our own shapes.

_Duke._ We are not our selves.

_Arr._ I know the house to be sinful enough, yet I have been
heretofore, and durst now, but for discovering of you, appear here
in my own likeness.

_Duke._ Where's _Lucio_?

_Arri._ My Lord, he said the affairs of the Common-wealth would not
suffer him to attend always.

_Duke._ Some great ones questionless that he will handle.

_Count._ Come, let us enter.

_Gond._ See how Fortune strives to revenge my quarrel upon these
women, she's in the window, were it not to undoe her, I should not
look upon her.

_Duke._ Lead us _Gondarino_.

_Gond._ Stay; since you force me to display my shame,
Look there, and you my Lord, know you that face?

_Duke._ Is't she?

_Count._ It is.

_Gond._ 'Tis she, whose greatest virtue ever was
Dissimulation; she that still hath strove
More to sin cunningly, than to avoid it:
She that hath ever sought to be accounted
Most virtuous, when she did deserve most scandal:
'Tis she that itches now, and in the height
Of her intemperate thoughts, with greedy eyes
Expects my coming to allay her Lust:
Leave her; forget she's thy sister.

_Count._ Stay, stay.

_Duke._ I am as full of this, as thou canst be,
The memory of this will easily
Hereafter stay my loose and wandring thought[s]
From any Woman.

_Count._ This will not down with me, I dare not trust this fellow.

_Duke._ Leave her here, that only shall be her punishment, never to
be fetcht from hence; but let her use her trade to get her living.

_Count._ Stay good my Lord, I do believe all this, as great men as
I, have had known whores to their Sisters, and have laught at it:
I would fain hear how she talks, since she grew thus light: will
your grace make him shew himself to her, as if he were now come
to satisfie her longing? whilst we, unseen of her, over-hear her
wantonness, let's make our best of it now, we shall have good mirth.

_Duke._ Do it _Gondarino_.

_Gond._ I must; fortune assist me but this once.

_Count._ Here we shall stand unseen, and near enough.

_Gond._ Madam, _Oriana_.

_Oria._ Who's that? oh! my Lord?

_Gond._ Shall I come up?

_Oria._ Oh you are merry, shall I come down?

_Gond._ It is better there.

_Oria._ What is the confession of the lye you made to the Duke,
which I scarce believe, yet you had impudence enough to do? did it
not gain you so much faith with me, as that I was willing to be at
your Lordships bestowing, till you had recover'd my credit, and
confest your self a lyar, as you pretended to do? I confess I began
to fear you, and desir'd to be out of your house, but your own
followers forc'd me hither.

_Gond._ 'Tis well suspected, dissemble still, for there are some
may hear us.

_Oria._ More tricks yet, my Lord? what house this is I know not, I
only know my self: it were a great conquest, if you could fasten
a scandal upon me: 'faith my Lord, give me leave to write to my
brother?

_Duke._ Come down.

_Count._ Come down.

_Arr._ If it please your Grace, there's a back door.

_Count._ Come meet us there then.

_Duke._ It seems you are acquainted with the house.

_Arr._ I have been in it.

_Gond._ She saw you and dissembled.

_Duke._ Sir, we shall know that better.

_Gond._ Bring me unto her, if I prove her not
To be a strumpet, let me be contemn'd
Of all her sex. [_Exeunt._

_Actus Quintus. Scæna Prima._

_Enter_ Lucio.

_Luc._ Now whilst the young Duke follows his delights,
We that do mean to practise in the State,
Must pick our times, and set our faces in,
And nod our heads as it may prove most fit
For the main good of the dear Common-wealth:
Who's within there?

_Enter a Servant._

_Serv._ My Lord?

_Luc._ Secretary, fetch the Gown I use to read Petitions in,
and the Standish I answer French Letters with: and call in the
Gentleman that attends: [_Exit Serv._

Little know they that do not deal in State,
How many things there are to be observ'd,
Which seem but little; yet by one of us
(Whose brains do wind about the Common-wealth)
Neglected, cracks our credits utterly.

_Enter Gentleman and a Servant._

Sir, but that I do presume upon your secresie, I would not have
appear'd to you thus ignorantly attir'd without a tooth-pick in a
ribbond, or a Ring in my bandstring[s].

_Gent._ Your Lordship sen[t] for me?

_Luc._ I did: Sir, your long practice in the State, under a great
man, hath led you to much experience.

_Gent._ My Lord.

_Luc._ Suffer not your modesty to excuse it: in short, and in
private, I desire your direction, I take my study already to be
furnisht after a grave and wise method.

_Gent._ What will this Lord do?

_Luc._ My Book-strings are sutable, and of a reaching colour.

_Gent._ How's this?

_Luc._ My Standish of Wood, strange and sweet, and my fore-flap
hangs in the right place, and as near _Machiavel's_, as can be
gathered by tradition.

_Gent._ Are there such men as will say nothing abroad, and play
the fools in their Lodgings? this Lord must be followed: and hath
your Lordship some new made words to scatter in your speeches in
publick, to gain note, that the hearers may carry them away, and
dispute of them at dinner?

_Luc._ I have Sir: and besides, my several Gowns and Caps agreeable
to my several occasions.

_Gent._ 'Tis well, and you have learn'd to write a bad hand, that
the Readers may take pains for it.

_Luc._ Yes Sir, and I give out I have the palsie.

_Gent._ Good, 'twere better though, if you had it: your Lordship
hath a Secretary, that can write fair, when you purpose to be
understood.

_Luc._ 'Faith Sir I have one, there he stands, he hath been my
Secretary these seven years, but he hath forgotten to write.

_Gen._ If he can make a writing face, it is not amiss, so he keep
his own counsel: your Lordship hath no hope of the Gout?

_Luc._ Uh, little Sir, since the pain in my right foot left me.

_Gent._ 'Twill be some scandal to your wisdom, though I see your
Lordship knows enough in publick business.

_Luc._ I am not imploy'd (though to my desert) in occasions
forreign, nor frequented for matters domestical.

_Gent._ Not frequented? what course takes your Lordship?

_Luc._ The readiest way, my door stands wi[de], my Secretary knows
I am not denied to any.

_Gent._ In this (give me leave) your Lordship is out of the way:
make a back door to let out Intelligencers; seem to be ever busie,
and put your door under keepers, and you shall have a troop of
Clients sweating to come at you.

_Luc._ I have a back door already, I will henceforth be busie,
Secretary, run and keep the door. [_Exit Secretary._

_Gent._ This will fetch 'um?

_Luc._ I hope so.

_Enter Secretary._

_Secr._ My Lord, there are some require access to you, about
weighty affairs of State.

_Luc._ Already?

_Gent._ I told you so.

_Luc._ How weighty is the business?

_Secr._ Treason my Lord.

_Luc._ Sir, my debts to you for this are great.

_Gent._ I will leave your Lordship now.

_Luc._ Sir, my death must be suddain, if I requite you not: at the
back door good Sir.

_Gent._ I will be your Lordships Intelligencer for once. [_Exit
Gentleman._

_Enter Secretary._

_Secr._ My Lord.

_Luc._ Let 'em in, and say I am at my study.

_Enter_ Lazarello, _and two Intelligencers_,
Lucio _being at his study_.

_1 Int._ Where is your Lord?

_Secr._ At his study, but he will have you brought in.

_Laza._ Why Gentlemen, what will you charge me withal?

_2 Int._ Treason, horrible treason, I hope to have the leading of
thee to prison, and prick thee on i'th' arse with a Halbert: to
have him hang'd that salutes thee, and call all those in question
that spit not upon thee.

_Laz._ My thred is spun, yet might I but call for this dish of meat
at the gallows, instead of a Psalm, it were to be endur'd: the
Curtain opens, now my end draws on.

[_Secretary draws the Curtain._

_Luc._ Gentlemen, I am not empty of weighty occasions at this time;
I pray you your business.

_1 Int._ My Lord, I think we have discover'd one of the most bloudy
Traitors, that ever the world held.

_Luc._ Signior _Lazarillo_, I am glad ye are one of this discovery,
give me your hand.

_2 Int._ My Lord, that is the Traitor.

_Luc._ Keep him off, I would not for my whole estate have touchd
him.

_Laz._ My Lord.

_Luc._ Peace Sir, I know the devil is at your tongue's end, to
furnish you with speeches: what are the particulars you charge him
with?

[_They deliver a paper to_ Lucio, _who reads_.

_Both Int._ We [have] conferr'd our Notes, and have extracted that,
which we will justifie upon our oaths.

_Luc._ That he would be greater than the Duke, that he had cast
plots for this, and meant to corrupt some to betray him, that he
would burn the City, kill the Duke, and poison the Privy Council;
and lastly kill himself. Though thou deserv'st justly to be hang'd
with silence, yet I allow thee to speak, be short.

_Laz._ My Lord, so may my greatest wish succeed,
So may I live, and compass what I seek,
As I had never treason in my thoughts,
Nor ever did conspire the overthrow
Of any creatures but of brutish beasts,
Fowls, Fishes, and such other humane food,
As is provided for the good of man.
If stealing Custards, Tarts, and Florentines
By some late Statute be created Treason;
How many fellow-Courtiers can I bring,
Whose long attendance and experience,
Hath made them deeper in the plot than I?

_Luc._ Peace, such hath ever been the clemency of my gracious
Master the Duke, in all his proceedings, that I had thought, and
thought I had thought rightly; that malice would long e'r this
have hid her self in her Den, a[n]d have turn'd her own sting
against her own heart: but I well [now] perceive, that so froward
is the disposition of a deprav'd nature, that it doth not only seek
revenge, where it hath receiv'd injury, but many times thirst after
their destruction, where it hath met with benefits.

_Laz._ But my good Lord--

_2 Int._ Let's gagg him.

_Luc._ Peace again, but many times thirst after destruction, where
it hath met with benefits; there I left: Such, and no better are
the business that we have now in hand.

_1 Int._ He's excellently spoken.

_[2] Int._ He'll wind a Traitor I warrant him.

_Luc._ But surely methinks, setting aside the touch of conscience,
and all [other] inward convulsions.

_2 Int._ He'll be hang'd, I know by that word.

_Laz._ Your Lordship may consider--

_Luc._ Hold thy peace: thou canst not answer this speech: no
Traitor can answer it: but because you cannot answer this speech, I
take it you have confess'd the Treason.

_1 Int._ The Count _Valore_ was the first that discover'd him, and
can witness it; but he left the matter to your Lordship's grave
consideration.

_Luc._ I thank his Lordship, carry him away speedily to the Duke.

_Laz._ Now _Lazarillo_ thou art tumbl'd down
The hill of fortune, with a violent arm;
All plagues that can be, Famine, and the Sword
Will light upon thee, black despair will boil
In thy despairing breast, no comfort by,
Thy friends far off, thy enemies are nigh.

_Luc._ Away with him, I'll follow you, look you pinion him, and
take his money from him, lest he swallow a shilling, and kill
himself.

_2 Int._ Get thou on before. [_Exeunt._

_Actus Quintus. Scæna [2]._

_Enter the Duke, the Count_, Gondarino, _and_ Arrigo.

_Duke._ Now _Gondarino_, what can you put on now
That may [again] deceive us?
Have ye more strange illusions, yet more mists,
Through which, the weak eye may be led to error:
What can ye say that may do satisfaction
Both for her wrong'd honor, and your ill?

_Gond._ All I can say, or may, is said already:
She is unchaste, or else I have no knowledge,
I do not breathe, nor have the use of sense.

_Duke._ Dare ye be yet so wilful, ignorant of your own
nakedness? did not your servants
In mine own hearing confess
They brought her to that house we found her in,
Almost by force: and with a great distrust
Of some ensuing hazard?

_Count._ He that hath begun so worthily,
It fits not with his resolution
To leave off thus, my Lord, I know these are but idle proofs.
What says your Lordship to them?

_Gond._ Count, I dare yet pronounce again, thy Sister is not honest.

_Count._ You are your self my Lord, I like your setledness.

_Gond._ Count, thou art young, and unexperienc'd in the dark,
hidden ways of Women: Thou dar'st affirm with confidence, a Lady of
fifteen may be a Maid.

_Count._ Sir, if it were not so, I have a Sister would set near my
heart.

_Gond._ Let her sit near her shame, it better fits her: call back
the bloud that made our stream in nearness, and turn the Current to
a better use; 'tis too much mudded, I do grieve to know it.

_Duke._ Dar'st thou make up again, dar'st thou turn face, knowing
we know thee, hast thou not been discover'd openly? did not our
ears hear her deny thy courtings? did we not see her blush with
modest anger, to be so overtaken by a trick; can ye deny this Lord?

_Gond._ Had not your Grace, and her kind brother
Been within level of her eye,
You should have had a hotter volley from her,
More full of bloud and fire, ready to leap the window where she stood.
So truly sensual is her appetite.

_Duke._ Sir, Sir, these are but words and tricks, give me the proof.

_Count._ What need a better proof than your Lordship?
I am sure ye have lain with her my Lord.

_Gond._ I have confest it Sir.

_Duke._ I dare not give thee credit without witness.

_Gond._ Does your grace think we carry seconds with us, to search
us, and see fair play: your Grace hath been ill tutor'd in the
business; but if you hope to try her truly, and satisfy your self
what frailty is, give her the Test: do not remember Count she is
your Sister; nor let my Lord the Duke believe she is fair; but put
her to it without hope or pity, then ye shall see that golde[n]
form flie off, that all eyes wonder at for pure and fixt, and
under't base blushing Copper; metall not worth the meanest honor:
you shall behold her then my Lord transparent, look through her
heart, and view the spirits how they leap, and tell me then I did
belie the Lady.

_Duke._ It shall be done: come _Gondarino_ bear us company,
We do believe thee: she shall die, and thou shalt see it.

_Enter_ Lazarello, _two Intelligencers, and Guard_.

How now my friends, [whome] have you guarded hither?

_2 Int._ So please your Grace we have discover'd a villain and a
Traitor: the Lord _Lucio_ hath examin'd him, and sent him to your
Grace for Judgement.

_Count._ My Lord, I dare absolve him from all sin of Treason: I
know his most ambition is but a dish of meat; which he hath hunted
with so true a scent, that he deserveth the Collar not the Halter.

_Duke._ Why do they bring him thus bound up? the poor man had more
need [of] some warm meat, to comfort his cold stomach.

_Count._ Your Grace shall have the cause hereafter, when you [may]
laugh more freely:

But these are call'd Informers: men that live by Treason, as
Rat-catchers do by poison.

_Duke._ Would there were no heavier prodigies hung over us,
than this poor fellow, I durst redeem all perils ready to pour
themselves upon this State, with a cold Custard.

_Count._ Your Grace might do it without danger to your person.

_Laz._ My Lord, if ever I intended treason against your Person,
or the State, unless it were by wishing from your Table some dish
of meat, which I must needs confess, was not a subjects part: or
coveting by stealth, sups from those noble bottles, that no mouth,
keeping allegiance true, should dare to taste: I must confess, with
more than covetous eye, I have beheld those dear conceal'd dishes,
that have been brought in by cunning equipage, to wait upon your
Graces pallat: I do confesse, out of this present heat, I have had
Stratagems and Ambuscado's; but God be thank'd they have never took.

_Duke._ Count, this business is your own; when you have done,
repair to us. [_Exit Duke._

_Count._ I will attend your Grace: _Lazarello_, you are at liberty,
be your own man again; and if you can be master of your wishes, I
wish it may be so.

_Laz._ I humbly thank your Lordship: I must be unmannerly, I have
some present business, once more I heartily thank your Lordship.
[_Exit_ Lazarillo.

_Count._ Now even a word or two to you, and so farewell; you think
you have deserv'd much of this State by this discovery: y'are a
slavish people, grown subject to the common course of all men.
How much unhappy were that noble spirit, could work by such baser
gains? what misery would not a knowing man put on with willingness,
e'r he see himself grown fat and full fed, by fall of those you
rise by? I do discharge ye my attendance; our healthful State needs
no such Leeches to suck out her bloud.

_1 Int._ I do beseech your Lordship.

_2 Int._ Good my Lord.

_Count._ Go learn to be more honest, [when] I see you work your
means from honest industry, [_Exeunt Informers._

I will be willing to accept your labours:
Till then I will keep back my promis'd favours:
Here comes another remnant of folly:

_Enter_ Lucio.

I must dispatch him too. Now Lord _Lucio_, what business [bring]
you hither?

_Luc._ Faith Sir, I am discovering what will become of that notable
piece of treason, intended by that Varlet _Lazarillo_; I have sent
him to the Duke for judgement.

_Count._ Sir, you have perform'd the part of a most careful
Statesman, and let me say it to your face, Sir, of a Father to
this State: I would wish you to retire, and insconce your self in
study: for such is your daily labour, and our fear, that our loss
of an hour may breed our overthrow.

_Luc._ Sir, I will be commanded by your judgement, and though I
find it a trouble scant to be waded through, by these weak years:
yet for the dear care of the Commonwealth, I will bruise my brains,
and confine my self to much vexation.

_Count._ Go, and maist thou knock down Treason like an Ox.

_Luc._ Amen.

[_Exeunt._

_Enter Mercer, Pandar, Francissina._

_Mer._ Have I spoke thus much in the honor of Learning? learn'd the
names of the seven liberal Sciences, before my marriage; and since,
have in haste written Epistles congratulatory, to the Nine Muses,
and is she prov'd a Whore and a Begger?

_Pan._ 'Tis true, you are not now to be taught, that no man can be
learn'd of a suddain; let not your first project discourage you,
what you have lost in this, you may get again in Alchumie.

_Fran._ Fear not Husband, I hope to make as good a wife, as the
best of your neighbors have, and as honest.

_Mer._ I will goe home; good Sir, do not publish this, as long as
it runs amongst our selves; 'tis good honest mirth: you'll come
home to supper; I mean to have all her friends, and mine, as ill as
it goes.

_Pan._ Do wisely Sir, and bid your own friends, your whole wealth
will scarce feast all hers, neither is it for your credit, to walk
the streets with a woman so noted; get you home and provide her
cloaths: let her come an hour hence with an Hand-basket, and shift
her self, she'll serve to sit at the upper end of the Table, and
drink to your customers.

_Mer._ Art is just, and will make me amends.

_Pan._ No doubt Sir.

_Mer._ The chief note of a Scholar you say, is to govern his
passions; wherefore I do take all patiently; in sign of which, my
[most] dear Wife, I do kiss thee, make haste home after me, I shall
be in my study.

[_Exit Mercer._

_Pan._ Go, avaunt, my new City Dame, send me what you promis'd me
for consideration; and may'st thou prove a Lady.

_Fran._ Thou shalt have it, his Silks shall flie for it. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Lazarello _and his boy_.

_Laz._ How sweet is a Calm after a Tempest, what is there now that
can stand betwixt me and felicity? I have gone through all my
crosses constantly; have confounded my enemies, and know where to
have my longing[s] satisfied: I have my way before me, there's the
door, and I may freely walk into my delights: knock boy.

_Jul._ Who's there? [_Within._

_Laz. Madona_, my Love, not guilty, not guilty, open the door.

_Enter_ Julia.

_Jul._ Art thou come sweet-heart?

_Laz._ Yes, to [thy] soft embraces, and the rest of my over-flowing
blisses; come, let us in and swim in our delights: a short Grace as
we go, and so to meat.

_Jul._ Nay my dear Love, you must bear with me in this; we'll to
the Church first.

_Laz._ Shall I be sure of it then?

_Jul._ By my love you shall.

_Laz._ I am content, for I do now wish to hold off longer, to whet
my appetite, and do desire to meet with more troubles, so I might
conquer them:

And as a holy Lover that hath spent
The tedious night with many a sigh and tears;
Whilst he pursu'd his wench: and hath observ'd
The smiles, and frowns, not daring to displease
When at last, hath with his service won
Her yielding heart; that she begins to dote
Upon him, and can hold no longer out,
But hangs about his neck, and wooes him more
Than ever he desir'd her love before:
Then begins to flatter his desert,
And growing wanton, needs will cast her off;
Try her, pick quarrels, to breed fresh delight,
And to increase his pleasing appetite.

_Jul._ Come Mouse will you walk?

_Laz._ I pray thee let me be deliver'd of the joy I am so big with,
I do feel that high heat within me, that I begin to doubt whether I
be mortal:

How I contemn my fellows in the Court,
With whom I did but yesterday converse?
And in a lower, and an humbler key
Did walk and meditate on grosser meats?
There are they still poor rogues, shaking their chops,
And sneaking after Cheeses, and do run
Headlong in chace, of every Jack of Beer
That crosseth them, in hope of some repast,
That it will bring them to, whilst I am here,
The happiest wight that ever set his tooth
To a dear novelty: approach my love,
Come, let's go to knit the True Loves knot,
That never can be broken.

_Boy._ That is to marry a whore.

_Laz._ When that is done, then will we taste the gift,
Which Fates have sent my Fortunes up to lift.

_Boy._ When that is done, you'll begin to repent upon a full
stomach; but I see, 'tis but a form in destiny, not to be alter'd.
[_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Arrigo _and Oriana_.

_Oria._ Sir, what may be the current of your business, that thus
you single out your time and place?

_Arri._ Madam, the business now impos'd upon me, concerns you
nearly, I wish some worser man might finish it.

_Ori._ Why are ye chang'd so? are ye not well Sir?

_Arr._ Yes Madam, I am well, wo'd you were so.

_Oria._ Why Sir, I feel my self in perfect health.

_Arri._ And yet ye cannot live long, Madam.

_Oria._ Why good _Arrigo_?

_Arr._ Why? ye must dye.

_Oria._ I know I must, but yet my fate calls not upon me.

_Arr._ It does; this hand the Duke commands shall give you death.

_Oria._ Heaven, and the powers Divine, guard well the innocent.

_Arr._ Lady, your Prayers may do your soul some good,
That sure your body cannot merit by 'em:
You must prepare to die.

_Orian._ What's my offence? what have these years committed,
That may be dangerous to the Duke, or State?
Have I conspir'd by poison, have I giv'n up
My honor to some loose unsetl'd bloud
That may give action to my plots?
Dear Sir, let me not dye ignorant of my faults?

_Arr._ Ye shall not.
Then Lady, you must know, you're held unhonest;
The Duke, your Brother, and your friends in Court,
With too much grief condemn ye: though to me,
The fault deserves not to be paid with death.

_Orian._ Who's my accuser?

_Arri._ Lord _Gondarino_.

_Orian. Arrigo_, take these words, and bear them to the Duke,
It is the last petition I shall ask thee:
Tell him the child this present hour brought forth
To see the world has not a soul more pure, more white,

More Virgin than I have; Tell him Lord _Gondarino's_ Plot, I suffer
for, and willingly: tell him it had been a greater honor, to have
sav'd than kill'd: but I have done: strike, I am arm'd for heaven.
Why, stay you? is there any hope?

_Arri._ I would not strike.

_Orian._ Have you the power to save?

_Arri._ With hazard of my life, if it should be known.

_Orian._ You will not venture that?

_Arri._ I will Lady: there is that means yet to escape your death,
if you can wisely apprehend [it].

_Orian._ Ye dare not be so kind?

_Arri._ I dare, and will, if you dare but deserve't.

_Ori._ If I should slight my life, I were [to] blame.

_Arri._ Then Madam, this is the means, or else you die: I love you.

_Orian._ I shall believe it, if you save my life.

_Arri._ And you must lie with me.

_Orian._ I dare not buy my life so.

_Arri._ Come, ye must resolve, say yea or no.

_Orian._ Then no; nay, look not ruggedly upon me, I am made up too
strong to fear such looks: Come, do your Butchers part: before I
would wish life, with the dear loss of honour, I dare find means to
free my self.

_Arr._ Speak, will ye yield?

_Orian._ Villain, I will not; Murtherer, do thy worst, thy base
unnoble thoughts dare prompt thee to; I am above thee slave.

_Arri._ Wilt thou not be drawn to yield by fair perswasions?

_Orian._ No, nor by--

_Arri._ Peace, know your doom then; your Ladyship must remember,
you are not now at home, where you dare [jeast at] all that come
about you: but you are fallen under my mercy, which shall be but
small; if thou refuse to yield: hear what I have sworn unto my
self; I will enjoy thee, though it be between the parting of thy
soul and body; yield yet and live.

_Orian._ I'll guard the one, let Heaven guard the other.

_Arri._ Are you so resolute then?

[_Duke from above._ Hold, hold I say.]

_Orian._ What [have] I? yet more terror to my tragedy?

_Arri._ Lady, the Scene of bloud is done; ye are now as free from
scandal, as from death.

_Enter Duke, Count, and_ Gondarino.

_Duke._ Thou Woman which wert born to teach men virtue,
Fair, sweet, and modest Maid, forgive my thoughts,
My trespass was my love.
Seize _Gondarino_, let him wait our dooms.

_Gond._ I do begin a little to love this woman; I could endure her
already twelve miles off.

_Count._ Sister, I am glad you have brought your honor off so
fairly, without loss: you have done a work above your sex, the Duke
admires it: give him fair encounter.

_Duke._ Best of all comforts, may I take this hand, and call it
mine?

_Ori._ I am your Graces handmaid.

_Duke._ Would ye had sed my self: might it not be so Lady?

_Count._ Sister, say I, I know you can afford it.

_Ori._ My Lord, I am your subject, you may command me, provided
still, your thoughts be fair and good.

_Duke._ Here I am yours, and when I cease to be so,
Let heaven forget me: thus I make it good.

_Ori._ My Lord, I am no more mine own.

_Count._ So, this bargain was well driven.

_Gond._ Duke, thou hast sold away thy self to all perdition; thou
art this present hour becomming Cuckold: methinks I see thy gaul
grate through thy veins, and jealousie seize thee with her talons:
I know that womans nose must be cut off, she cannot scape it.

_Duke._ Sir, we have punishment for you.

_Orian._ I do beseech your Lordship, for the wrongs this man hath
done me, let me pronounce his punishment.

_Duke._ Lady, I give't to you, he is your own.

_Gond._ I do beseech your Grace, let me be banisht with all the
speed that may be.

_Count._ Stay still, you shall attend her sentence.

_Orian._ Lord _Gondarino_, you have wrong'd me highly; yet since it
sprung from no peculiar hate to me, but from a general dislike unto
all women, you shall thus suffer for it; _Arrigo_, call in some
Ladies to assist us; will your Grace [t]ake your State?

_Gond._ My Lord, I do beseech your Grace for any punishment saving
this woman, let me be sent upon discovery of some Island; I do
desire but a small Gondela, with ten Holland Cheeses, and I'll
undertake it.

_Oria._ Sir, ye must be content, will ye sit down? nay, do it
willingly: _Arrigo_, tie his Arms close to the chair, I dare not
trust his patience.

_[G]ond._ Mayst thou be quickly old and painted; mayst thou dote
upon some sturdy Yeoman of the Wood-yard, and he be honest; mayst
thou be barr'd the lawful lechery of thy Coach, for want of
instruments; and last, be thy womb unopen'd.

_Duke._ This fellow hath a pretty gaul.

_Count._ My Lord, I hope to see him purg'd e'r he part.

_Enter Ladies._

_Oria._ Your Ladyships are welcome: I must desire your helps,
though you are no Physitians, to do a strange cure upon this
Gentleman.

_Ladies._ In what we can assist you Madam, ye may command us.

_Gond._ Now do I sit like a Conjurer within my circle, and these
the Devils that are rais'd about me, I will pray that they may have
no power upon me.

_Oria._ Ladies, fall off in couples, then with a [s]oft still
march, with low demeanors, charge this Gentleman, I'll be your
Leader.

_Gond._ Let me be quarter'd Duke quickly, I can endure it: these
women long for Mans flesh, let them have it.

_Duke._ Count, have you ever seen so strange a passion? what would
this fellow do, if he should find himself in bed with a young Lady?

_Count._ 'Faith my Lord, if he could get a knife, sure he wou'd cut
her throat, or else he wou'd do as _Hercules_ did by _Lycas_, swing
out her soul: h'as the true hate of a woman in him.

_Oria._ Low with your Cursies Ladies.

_Gond._ Come not too near me, I have a breath will poison ye,
my lungs are rotten, and my stomach is raw: I am given much to
belching: hold off, as you love sweet airs; Ladies, by your first
nights pleasure, I conjure you, as you wou'd have your Husbands
proper men, strong backs, and little legs, as you would have 'em
hate your Waiting-women.

_Oria._ Sir, we must court ye, till we have obtain'd some little
favour from those gracious eyes, 'tis but a kiss a piece.

_Gond._ I pronounce perdition to ye all; ye are a parcel of that
damned crew that fell down with _Lucifer_, and here ye staid on
earth to plague poor men; vanish, avaunt, I am fortified against
your charms; heaven grant me breath and patience.

_1 Lady._ Shall we not kiss then?

_Gond._ No sear my lips with hot irons first, or stitch them up
like a Ferrets: oh that this brunt were over!

_2 Lady._ Come, come, little rogue, thou art too maidenly by my
troth, I think I must box thee till thou be'st bolder; the more
bold, the more welcome: I prethee kiss me, be not afraid. [_She
sits on his knee._

_Gond._ If there be any here, that yet have so much of the fool
left in them, as to love their mothers, let them [looke] on her,
and loath them too.

_2 Lady._ What a slovenly little villain art thou, why dost thou
not stroke up thy hair? I think thou ne'er comb'st it: I must have
it lie in better order; so, so, so, let me see thy hands, are they
wash'd?

_Gond._ I would th[e]y were loose for thy sake.

_Duke._ She tortures him admirably.

_Count._ The best that ever was.

_2 Lady._ Alas, how cold they are, poor golls, why dost thee not
get thee a Muff?

_Arri._ Madam, here's an old Countrey Gentlewoman at the door, that
came nodding up for justice, she was with the Lord _Gondarino_ to
day, and would now again come to the speech of him, she says.

_Oria._ Let her in, for sports sake, let her in.

_Gond._ Mercy, oh Duke, I do appeal to thee: plant Canons there,
and discharge them against my breast rather: nay, first let this
she-fury sit still where she does, and with her nimble fingers
stroke my hair, play with my fingers ends, or any thing, until my
panting heart have broke my breast.

_Duke._ You must abide her censure. [_The Lady rises from his knee._

_Enter old Gentlewoman._

_Gond._ I see her come, unbutton me, for she will speak.

_Gentlew._ Where is he Sir?

_Gond._ Save me, I hear her.

_Ar._ There he is in state to give you audience.

_Gentlew._ How does your [good] Lordship?

_Gond._ Sick of the spleen.

_Gentlew._ How?

_Gond._ Sick.

_Gentlew._ Will you chew a Nutmeg, you shall not refuse it, it is
very comfortable.

_Gond._ Nay, now thou art come, I know it
Is the Devils Jubile, Hell is broke loose:
My Lord, if ever I have done you service,
Or have deserv'd a favour of your Grace,
Let me be turn'd upon some present action,
Where I may sooner die, than languish thus;
Your Grace hath her petition, grant it her, and ease me now at last.

_Duke._ No Sir, you must endure.

_Gentlew._ For my petition, I hope your Lordship hath remembred me.

_Oria._ 'Faith I begin to pity him, _Arrigo_, take her off, bear
her away, say her petition is granted.

_Gentlew._ Wh[i]ther do you draw me Sir? I know it is not my Lords
pleasure I should be thus used, before my business be dispatched?

_Arr._ You shall know more of that without.

_Oria._ Unbind him Ladies, but before he go, this he shall promise;
for the love I bear to our own sex, I would have them still hated
by thee, and injoyn thee as a punishment, never hereafter willingly
to come in the presence, or sight of any woman, nor never to seek
wrongfully the publick disgrace of any.

_Gond._ 'Tis that I would have sworn, and do: when I [meddle] with
them, for their good, or their bad; may Time [call] back this day
again, and when I come in their companies, may I catch the pox, by
their breath, and have no other pleasure for it.

_Duke._ Ye are [too] merciful.

_Oria._ My Lord, I shew'd my sex the better.

_Gond._ All is over-blown Sister: y'are like to have a fair night
of it, and a Prince in your Arms: let's goe my Lord.

_Duke._ Thus through the doubtful streams of joy and grief, True
Love doth wade, and finds at last relief. [_Exeunt omnes._

NICE VALOUR.

A Comedy.

The Persons represented in the Play.

Duke _of_ Genova.
Shamont _his Favourite, a superstitious lover of reputation._
A passionate Lord, _the Duke's distracted kinsman._
A Soldier, _brother to_ Shamont.
Lapet, _the cowardly Monsieur of_ Nice Valour.
A Gallant _of the same Temper._
Pultrot, } _Two Mushroom_
Mombazon, } _Courtiers._
Two Brothers _to the Lady, affecting the passionate Lord_.
Four Courtiers.
Jester.
A Priest } _In a Masque._
Six Women }
Galoshio, _a Clown, such another try'd piece of Man's flesh_.

WOMEN.

Lady, _Sister to the Duke_, Shamont's _beloved_.
Lapet's _Wife_.
A Lady, _personating_ Cupid, _Mistriss to the mad Lord_.

The Scene Genova.

The PROLOGUE at the reviving of this Play.

_It's grown in fashion of late in these days,_
_To come and beg a suff[eranc]e to our Plays_
_'Faith Gentlemen, our Poet ever writ_
_Language so good, mixt with such sprightly wit,_
_He made the Theatre so Sovereign_
_With his rare Scænes, he scorn'd this crouching vein:_
_We stabb'd him with keen daggers when we pray'd_
_Him write a Preface to a Play well made._
_He could not write these toyes, 'tw[a]s easier far,_
_To bring a Felon to appear at th' Barr_
_So much he hated baseness; which this day,_
_His Scænes will best convince you of in's Play._

_Actus Primus. Scæna Prima._

_Enter Duke_, Shamount, _and four Gentlemen_.

_Duke. Shamount_, welcome; we have mist thee long,
Though absent but two days: I hope your sports
Answer your time and wishes.

_Sham._ Very nobly Sir;
We found game, worthy your delight my Lord,
It was so royal.

_Duke._ I've enough to hear on't.
Prethee bestow't upon me in discourse.

_1 Gent._ What is this Gentleman, Coz? you are a Courtier,
Therefore know all their insides.