Chapter IX: Part 9

_Lam._ I must grant
There's as much worth in him as can be lookt for
From a young Lord, but not enough to make
Me change my golden liberty and consent
To be a servant to it, as wives are
To the Imperious humors of their Lords:
Me thinks I'm well, I rise and goe to bed
When I think fit, eat what my appetite
Desires without controle, my servants study
Is my contentment, and to make me merry
Their farthest ayms; my sleeps are enquired after,
My rising up saluted with respect:
Command and liberty now wait upon
My Virgin state; what would I more; change all,
And for a husband? no; these freedoms die,
In which they live with my Virginity;
'Tis in their choice that's rich to be a wife,
But not being yoakt to chuse the single life.

_Ver._ Madam.

_Lam._ How like you the Countrey?

_Ver._ I like the ayr of it well Madam, and the rather because,
as on _Irish_ Timber your Spider will not make his web, so for
ought I see yet your Cheater, Pander, and Informer being in their
dispositions too foggy for this piercing climate, shun it, and
chose rather to walk in mists in the City.

_Lam._ Who did you serve first boy?

_Ver._ A rich Merchants widow, and was by her preferred to a young
Court-Lady.

_L. Orl._ And what difference found you in their service?

_Ver._ Very much: for look how much my old City Madam gave to
her young visitants, so much my Lady received from her hoary
Court-servants.

_Lam._ And what made you to leave her?

_Ver._ My father (Madam) had a desire to have me a tall-man, took
me from thence.

_Lam._ Well, I perceive you inherit the wag, from your father.

_Ver._ Doves beget Doves; and Eagles, Eagles, Madam: A Citizen
here, tho left never so rich, seldome at the best proves a
Gentleman: the son of an Advocate, tho dub'd like his father, will
shew a relish of his descent, and the fathers thriving practice,
as I have heard: she that of a Chambermayd is metamorphosed into
a Madam, will yet remember how oft her daughter by her mother
ventured to lie upon the rushes before she could get in that which
makes many Ladyes.

_L. Orl._ But what think you of your late Master?

_Ver._ Oh Madam-- [_Sighs._

_Lam._ Why doe you sigh? you are sorry that you left him,
He made a wanton of you.

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

_Enter Charlot with a letter._

_Lam._ 'Tis well yet that I have the second place
In your affection: From whence?

_Charl._ From the Lord _Amiens_, Madam.

_Lam._ 'Tis wellcome, though it bear his usual language:
I thought so much, his love-suit speaks his health.
What's he that brought it?

_Charl._ A Gentleman of good rank, it seems.

_Lam._ Where is he?

_Charl._ Receiving entertainment in your house
Sorting with his degree.

_Lam._ 'Tis well.

_Charl._ He waits your Ladyships pleasure.

_Lam._ He shall not wait long:
I'll leave you for a while; nay stay you boy,
Attend the Lady. [_Exeunt Lam. Charl._

_Vir._ Would I might live once
To wait on my poor Master.

_L. Orl._ That's a good boy:
This thankfulness looks lovely on thy forehead,
And in it, as a book, me thinks I read
Instructions for my self, that am his debtor,
And wou'd do much that I might be so happy
To repair that which to our grief is ruin'd.

_Vir._ It were a work a King might glory in,
If he saw with my eyes: If you please Madam,
For sure to me you seem unapt to walk,
To sit, although the churlish Birds deny
To give us musick in this grove, where they
Are prodigall to others: I'll strain my voyce
For a sad Song, the place is safe and private.

_L. Orl._ 'Twas my desire; begin good _Viramour_.

_Musick, a Song, at the end of it enter Montague,_
_fainting, his Sword drawn._

_L. Orl._ What's he _Viramour_?

_Vir._ A goodly personage.

_Mont._ Am I yet safe? or is my flight a dream?
My wounds and hunger tell me that I wake:
Whither have my fears born me? no matter where,
Who hath no place to goe to, cannot err:
What shall I do? cunning calamity!
That others gross wits uses to refine,
When I most need it duls the edg of mine.

_L. Orl._ Is not this _Montagues_ voyce?

_Vir._ My Masters? fie.

_Mont._ What sound was that, 'pish,
Fear makes the wretch think every leaf oth' Jury:
What course to live, 'beg? better men have done it,
But in another kind: steal? _Alexander_
Though stil'd a Conqueror, was a proud thief,
Though he rob'd with an Army; fie how idle
These meditations are: though thou art worse
Than sorrows tongue can speak thee, thou art still,
Or shouldst be, honest _Montague_.

_L. Orl._ 'Tis too true.

_Vir._ 'Tis he: what villains hands did this? oh that my flesh
Were Balm; in faith Sir, I would pluck it off
As readily as this; pray you accept
My will to do you service: I have heard
The Mouse once sav'd the Lyon in his need,
As the poor Scarab spild the Eagles seed.

_L. Orl._ How do you?

_Mont._ As a forsaken man.

_L. Orl._ Do not say so, take comfort,
For your misfortunes have been kind in this,
To cast you on a hospitable shoar,
Where dwels a Lady--

_Vir._ She to whom, good Master,
You prefer'd me.

_L. Orl._ In whose house, whatsoere
Your dangers are, I'll undertake your safety.

_Mont._ I fear that I am pursued, and doubt that I,
In my defence have kild an Officer.

_Vir._ Is that all? there's no law under the Sun
But will I hope confess, one drop of blood
Shed from this arme is recompence enough
Though you had cut the throats of all the Catchpoles
In _France_, nay in the world.

_Mont._ I would be loth
To be a burthen, or feed like a drone
On the industrious labor of a Bee,
And baser far I hold it to owe for
The bread I eat, what's not in me to pay;
Then since my full fortunes are declin'd,
To their low ebb I'll fashion my high mind.
It was no shame to _Hecuba_, to serve
When Troy was fir'd: if't be in your power
To be a means to make her entertainment,
And far from that I was; but to supply
My want with habit fit for him that serves,
I shall owe much to you.

_L. Orl._ Leave that care to me.

_Vir._ Good Sir, lean on my shoulder; help good Madam: oh that I
were a horse for half an hour, that I might carry you home on my
back: I hope you w[i]ll love me still?

_Mont._ Thou dost deserve it boy, that I should live
To be thus troublesome.

_L. Orl._ Good Sir, 'tis none.

_Vir._ Trouble? most willingly I would be chang'd
Like _Apuleius_, weare his Asses ears,
Provided I might still this burthen bear.

_L. Orl._ 'Tis a kind boy.

_Mont._ I find true proof of it. [_Exeunt._

_Enter Amiens, and Longeville, with a Paper._

_Ami._ You'll carry it.

_Long._ As I live although my packet were like _Bellerophon's_,
what have you seen in me or my behavior since your favors so
plentifully showr'd upon my wants, that may beget distrust of my
p[er]formance?

_Ami._ Nay, be not angry, if I entertained
But the least scruple of your love, or courage,
I would make choyce of one which my estate
Should do me right in this, nor can you blame me
If in a matter of such consequence
I am so importunate.

_Long._ Good my Lord let me prevent your farther conjurations
To rayse my spirit, I know this is a challenge
To be delivered unto _Orlean[c]e_ hand,
And that my undertaking ends not there,
But I must be your second, and in that
Not alone search your enemy, measure weapons,
But stand in all your hazards, as our blouds
Ran in the self-same veins, in which if I
Better not your opinion, as a limb
That's putrifi'd and useless, cut me off,
And underneath the Gallows bury it.

_Ami._ At full you understand me, and in this
Bind me, and what's mine to you and yours,
I will not so much wrong you as to add
One syllable more, let it suffice I leave
My honor to your guard: and in that prove,
You hold the first place in my heart and love. [_Ex. Ami._

_Long._ The first place in a Lords affection? very good; and how
long doth that last? perhaps the changing of some three shirts in
the Tennis-Court; well, it were very necessary that an order were
taken (if it were possible,) that younger brothers might have more
wit, or more money: for now, however the fool hath long been put
upon him that inherits, his revenue hath bought him a spunge, and
wip't off the imputation, and for the understanding of the younger,
let him get as much Rhetorick as he can, to grace his language.

_Enter_ Dubois.

They will see, he shall have gloss little enough to set out his
Bark; stand _Dubois_, look about, 's all safe?

_Dub._ Approach not near me but with reverence Lawrel and
adorations, I have done more than deserves a hundred thanks.

_Long._ How now, what's the matter?

_Dub._ With this hand, only aided by this brain,
Without an _Orpheus_ Harp redeem'd from Hells
Three headed Porter, our _Euridice_.

_Long._ Nay, prethee speak sence, this is like the stale bragart in
a Play.

_Dub._ Then in plain Prose thus, and with as little action as
thou canst desire, the three headed Porter, were three unexorable
Catch-poles, out of whose jaws without the help of _Orpheus_ Harp,
bait or bribe; for those two strings make the Musick, that molifies
those flinty furies, I rescued our _Euridice_, I mean my old Master
_Montague_.

_Long._ And is this all? a poor rescue; I thought thou hadst
revers'd the judgement for his overthrow in his sute, or wrought
upon his adversary _Orleance_, taken the shape of a Ghost, frighted
his mind into distraction, and for the appeasing of his conscience,
forc'd him to make restitution of _Montague's_ Lands, or such
like rescue; S'light I would have hired _Acrocheture_ for two
_Cardekues_, to have done so much with his whip.

_Dub._ You wood Sir, and yet 'tis more than three on their
foot-cloaths durst do for a sworn Brother, in a Coach.

_Long._ Besides, what proof's of it? for ought I know, this may be
a trick, I had rather have him a prisoner, where I might visit him,
and do him service, than not at all, or I know not where.

_Dub._ Well Sir, the end will shew it, what's that, a challenge?

_Long._ Yes, where's _Orleance_? though we fight in jest, he must
meet with _Amiens_ in earnest,--fall off, we are discovered; my
horse _garson_; ha!

_Dub._ Were it not in a house, and in his presence,
To whom I owe all duty--

_Long._ What would it do? prate as it does? but be as far from
striking, as he that owes it _Orleance_.

_Dub._ How?

_Long._ I think thou art his Porter,
Set here to answer creditors, that his Lordship
Is not within, or takes the diet: I am sent,
And will grow here until I have an answer,
Not to demand a debt of money, but
To call him to a strict account for wrong
Done to the honors of a Gentleman,
Which nothing but his heart-bloud shall wash off.

_Dub._ Shall I hear this?

_Long._ And more, that if [I] may not
Have access to him, I will fix this here
To his disgrace and thine.

_Dub._ And thy life with it.

_Long._ Then have the copies of it pasted on posts,
Like Pamphlet Titles, that sue to be sold;
Have his disgrace talk for Tobacco-shops,
His picture baffled.

_Dub._ All respect away, wer't in a Church-- [_draw both._

_Long._ This is the Book I pray with.

_Enter Orleance._

_Orl._ Forbear upon your lives.

_Long._ What are you rouz'd? I hope your Lordship can read (though
he stain not his birth with Scholar-ship) doth it not please you
now? if you are a right _Mounsieur_, muster up the rest of your
attendance, which is a Page, a Cook, a Pander, Coach-man, and
a Footman, in these days a great Lords train, pretending I am
unworthy to bring you a challenge, instead of answering it, have me
kick'd.

_Dub._ If he does, thou deserv'st it.

_Long._ I dare you all to touch me, I'll not stand still,
What answer?

_Orl._ That thou hast done to _Amiens_
The office of a faithful friend, which I
Would cherish in thee, were he not my foe,
How ever since on honourable terms
He calls me forth, say I will meet with him,
And by _Dubois_ e'r Sun-set make him know
The time and place, my swords length, and what ever
Scruple of circumstance he can expect.

_Long._ This answer comes unlookt for, fare you well,
Finding your temper thus, wou'd I had said less. [_Exit._

_Orl._ Now comes thy love to the test.

_Dub._ My Lord, 'twill hold,
And in all dangers prove it self true Gold. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Laverdine, La-poop, Malicorn, _servant_.

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

_Mal._ There's a Tester, nay, now I am a wooer, I must be bountiful.

_Ser._ If you would have two three-pences for it Sir, To give some
of your kindred as you ride, I'll see if I can get them; we use not
(tho servants) to take bribes. [_Ex._

_Lav._ Then thou art unfit to be in office, either in Court or City.

_La-p._ Indeed, corruption is a Tree, whose branches are of
an unmeasurable length, they spread every where, and the dew,
that drops from thence, hath infected some chairs and stools of
authority.

_Mal._ Ah Captain! lay not all the fault upon Officers, you know
you can shark, tho you be out of action, witness _Montague_.

_Lav._ Hang him, he's safe enough; you had a hand in it too, and
have gained by him; but I wonder you Citizens, that keep so many
books, and take such strict accounts for every farthing due to you
from others, reserve not so much as a memorandum for the courtesies
you receive.

_Mal._ Would you have a Citizen book those? thankfulness is a
thing, we are not sworn to in our Indentures: you may as well urge
conscience.

_Lav._ Talk no more of such vanities, _Mountague_ is irrecoverably
sunk, I would we had twenty more to send after him; the Snake that
would be a Dragon, and have wings, must eat; and what implies that,
but this, that in this _Cannibal_ age, he that would have the sute
of wealth, must not care ---- whom he feeds on? and as I have
heard, no flesh battens better, then that of a profest friend;
and he that would mount to honor, must not make dainty to use the
head of his mother, back of his Father, or neck of his Brother, for
ladders to his preferment; for, but observe, and you shall find for
the most part, cunning villany sit at a Feast as principal guest,
and innocent honesty wait as a contemn'd servant with a trencher.

_La-p._ The Ladies.

_Enter_ Montague _bare-headed_, Lamira, _Lady_
Orleance, Charlotte _a[n]d_ V[e]ramour.

_Mont._ Do ye smell nothing?

_Char._ Not I Sir.

_Mont._ The carrion of knaves is very strong in my nostrils.

_Lav._ We came to admire, and find Fame was a niggard,
Which we thought prodigal in our report
Before we saw you.

_Lam._ Tush Sir, this Courtship's old.

_La-p._ I'll fight for thee, sweet wench,
This is my tongue, and woes for me.

_Lam._ Good man of War,
Hands off; if you take me, it must be by siege,
Not by an onset; and for your valour, I
Think that I have de[ser]ved few enemies,
And therefore need it not.

_Mal._ Thou need'st nothing, sweet Lady, but an obsequious husband,
and where wilt thou find him, if not in the City? We are true
_Muscovites_ to our Wives, and are never better pleased, than when
they use us as slaves, bridle and Saddle us; Have me, thou shalt
command all my wealth as thine own, thou shalt sit like a Queen in
my Ware-house; And my Factors at the return with my ships, shall
pay thee tribute of all the rarities of the earth; thou shalt wear
gold, feed on delicates, the first Peascods, Strawberries, Grapes,
Cherries shall--

_Lam._ Be mine; I apprehend what you would say,
Those dainties which the City pays so dear for,
The Countrey yields for nothing, and as early;
And, credit me, your far-fet viands please not
My appetite better than those that are near hand.
Then for your promis'd service and subjection
To all my humors, when I am your wife,
Which [as] it seems, is frequent in the City,
I cannot find what pleasure they receive
In using their fond Husbands like their Maids;
But of this, more hereafter: I accept
Your proffer kindly, and yours; my house stands open
To entertain you, take your pleasure in it,
And ease after your journey.

_La. Orl._ Do you note the boldness of the fellows?

_Lam._ Alas Madam, a Virgin must in this be like a Lawyer,
And as he takes all Fees; she must hear all suitors; the
One for gain, the other for her mirth; stay with the
Gentlemen, we'll to the Orchards.

[_Exeunt_ Lamira, _Lady_ Orleance, Vera. _and_ Charl.

_La-p._ ---- What art thou?

_Mont._ An honest man, though poor;
And look they like to monsters, are they so rare?

_Lav._ Rose from the dead.

_Mal._ Do you hear Monsieur _Serviture_, didst thou never hear of
one _Montague_, a prodigal gull, that lives about _Paris_?

_Mont._ So Sir.

_Lav._ One that after the loss of his main estate in a Lawsute,
bought an Office in the Court.

_La-p._ And should have Letters of _Mart_, to have the _Spanish_
treasure as it came from the _Indies_; were not thou and he twins?
put off thy Hat, let me see thy Fore-head.

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

_Enter_ Lamira _behind the Arras_.

_Lam._ I will observe this better.

_Lav._ And art thou he? I will do thee grace; give me thy hand: I
am glad thou hast taken so good a course; serve God, and please thy
Mistriss; if I prove to be thy Master, as I am very like[l]y, I
will do for thee.

_Mal._ Faith the fellow's well made for a Serving-man, and will no
doubt, carry a chine of Beef with a good grace.

_La-p._ Prethee be careful of me in my chamber, I will remember
thee at my departure.

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

_La-p._ This a language for a Livery? take heed, I am a Captain.

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

[Lamira _from the Arras_.

I would--but foolish anger makes me talk
Like a Player.

_Lam._ Indeed you act a part
Doth ill become you my servant; is this your duty?

_Mont._ I crave your pardon, and will hereafter be more circumspect.

_Lav._ Oh the power of a Womans tongue: it hath done more than we
three with our swords durst undertake; put a mad man to silence.

_Lam._ Why sirrah, these are none of your comrades
To drink with in the Cellar; one of them
For ought you know, may live to be your Master.

_La-p._ There's some comfort yet.

_Lam._ Here's choice of three, a wealthy Merchant.

_Mal._ Hem, she's taken, she hath spy'd my good Calf,
And many Ladies chuse their Husbands by that.

_Lam._ A Courtier that's in grace, a valiant Captain,
And are these mates for you, away, begone.

_Mont._ I humbly pray you will be pleased to pardon,
And to give satisfaction to you Madam,
(Although I break my heart) I will confess
That I have wrong'd them too, and make submission.

_Lam._ No I'll spare that; go bid the Cook haste supper. [_Exit_ Mont.

_La-p._ Oh brave Lady, thou art worthy to have servants, to be
commandress of a Family, that knowest how to use and govern it.

_Lav._ You shall have many Mistresses that will so mistake, as to
take their Horse-keepers, and Footmen instead of their Husbands,
thou art none of those.

_Mal._ But she that can make distinction of men, and knows when she
hath gallants, and fellows of rank and quality in her house--

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

_Mal._ What think you of this Captain?

_La-p._ That this is a bawdy-house, with Pinacles and Turrets, in
which this disguised _Montague_ goes to Rut _gratis_, and that this
is a landed pandress, and makes her house a brothel for charity.

_Mal._ Come, that's no miracle; but from whence derive you the
supposition?

_Lav._ Observe but the circumstance; you all know that in the
height of _Mountagues_ prosperity, he did affect, and had his love
return'd by this Lady _Orleans_; since her divorcement, and his
decay of estate, it is known they have met, not so much as his boy
[is] wanting; and that this can be any thing else than a meer plot
for their night-work, is above my imagination to conceive.

_Mal._ Nay, it carries probability, let us observe it better, but
yet with such caution, as our prying be not discovered; here's all
things to be had without cost, and therefore good staying here.

_La-p._ Nay, that's true, I would we might wooe her twenty years,
like _Penelopes_ sutors; come _Laverdine_.

[_Exeunt_ Malli. La Poop.

_Lav._ I follow instantly, yonder he is.

_Enter_ Viramor.

The thought of this boy hath much cool'd my affection to his Lady,
and by all conjectures, this is a disguised whore; I will try if I
can search this Mine, Page--

_Ver._ Your pleasure, Sir?

_Lav._ Thou art a pretty boy.

_Ver._ And you a brave man: now I am out of your debt.

_Lav._ Nay, prethee stay.

_Ver._ I am in haste, Sir.

_Lav._ By the faith of a Courtier.

_Ver._ Take heed what you say, you have taken a strange oath.

_Lav._ I have not seen a youth that hath pleased me better; I would
thou couldst li[k]e me, so far as to leave thy Lady and wait on me,
I would maintain thee in the bravest cloaths.

_Ver._ Though you took them up on trust, or bought 'em at the
Brokers.

_Lav._ Or any way: then thy imployments should be so neat and
cleanly, thou shouldst not touch a pair of pantables in a month,
and thy lodging--

_Ver._ Should be in a brothel.

_Lav._ No, but in mine arms.

_Ver._ That may be the circle of a Bawdy-house, or worse.

_Lav._ I mean thou should'st lye with me.

_Ver._ Lie with you? I had rather lye with my Ladies Monkey;
'twas never a good world, since our French Lords learned of the
_Neapolitans_, to make their Pages their Bed-fellows, doth more
hurt to the Suburb Ladies, than twenty dead vacations; 'Tis supper
time, Sir. [_Exit_ Veram.

_Lav._ I thought so, I know by that 'tis a woman, for because,
peradventure she hath made trial of the Monkey, she prefers him
before me, as one unknown; well, these are standing creatures, and
have strange desires; and men must use strange means to quenc[h]
strange fires. [_Exit._

_Actus Quartus. Scæna Prima._

_Enter_ Montague _alone in mean habit_.

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

_Enter_ Veramour.

_Ver._ Oh! Master, I have sought you a long hour,
Good faith, I never joy'd out of your sight;
For Heavens sake, Sir, be merry, or else bear
The buffets of your fortunes with more scorn;
Do but begin to rail, teach me the way,
And I'll sit down, and help your anger forth:
I have known you wear a suit; full worth a Lordship,
Give to a man whose need ne'er frighted you
From calling of him friend, five hundred Crowns
E'er sleep had left your sences to consider
Your own important present uses; yet
Since I have seen you with a t[r]encher wait,
Void of all scorn, therefore I'll wait on you.

_Mont._ Would [God] thou wert less honest.

_Ver._ Would to [God] you were less worthy: I am ev'n w'e Sir.

_Mon._ Is not thy Master strangely fall'n, when thou
Servest for no wages, but for charity?
Thou dost surcharge me with thy plenteous love:
The goodness of thy virtue shown to me,
More opens still my disability
To quit thy pains: credit me loving boy,
A free and honest nature may be opprest,
Tir'd with courtesies from a liberal spirit,
When they exceed his means of gratitude.

_Ver._ But 'tis a due in him that to that end
Extends his love or duty.

_Mont._ Little world
Of virtue, why dost love and follow me?

_Ver._ I will follow you through all Countreys,
I'll run (fast as I can) by your horse side,
I'll hold your stirrop when you do alight,
And without grudging, wait till you return:
I'll quit offer'd means, and expose my self
To cold and hunger, still to be with you;
Fearless I'll travel through a wilderness,
And when you are weary, I will lay me down
That in my bosom you may rest your head,
Where whilst you sleep, I'll watch, that no wild beast
Shall hurt or trouble you: and thus we'll breed a story
To make every hearer weep,
When they disco[u]rse our fortunes and our loves.

_Mont._ Oh what a scoff might men of women make,
If they did know this boy? but my desire
Is, that thou wouldest not (as thou usest still:
When like a servant, I 'mong servants sit)
Wait on my Trencher, fill my cups with Wine:
Why should'st thou do this boy? prethee consider,
I am not what I was.

_Ver._ Curst be the day when I forget that _Montague_ was my Lord,
or not remember him my Master still.

_Mont._ Rather curse me, with whom thy youth hath spent,
So many hours, and yet untaught to live
By any worldly quality.

_Ver._ Indeed you never taught me how to handle Cards
To cheat and cozen men with oaths and lies:
Those are the worldly qualities to live:
Some of our scarlet Gallants teach their boys
These worldly qualities.
Since stumbling fortune then leaves virtue thus
Let me leave fortune, e'r be vicious.

_Mon._ Oh lad, thy love will kill me.

_Ver._ In truth, I think in conscience [I] shall dye for you:
Good Master weep not, do you want aught, Sir?
Will you have any money, here's some Silver;
And here's a little Gold, 'twill serve to play,
And put more troublesome thoughts out of your mind:
I pray Sir take it, I'll get more with singing.
And then I'll bring it you, my Lady ga't me,
And--it was not covetousness,
But I forgot to tell you sooner on't.

_Mont._ Alas boy, thou art not bound to tell it me,
And less to give it, buy thee Scarfs and Garters,
And when I have money, I will give thee a sword:
Nature made thee a beauteous Cabinet
To lock up [all] the goodness of the earth.

_Enter Charlote._

_Ver._ I have lost my voice with the very sight of this
Gentlewoman: good Sir steal away, you were wont to be a curious
avoider of womens company.

_Mont._ Why boy, thou dar'st trust me any where, dar'st thou not?

_Ver._ I had rather trust you by a roaring Lion, than a ravening
woman.

_Mont._ Why boy?

_Ver._ Why truly she devours more mans flesh--

_Mont._ I, but she roars not boy.

_Ver._ No Sir, why she is never silent but when her mouth is full.

_Charl._ Monsieur _Montague_.

_Mont._ My sweet fellow, since you please to call me so.

_Ver._ Ah my conscience, she wou'd be pleas'd well enough to call
you bed-fellow: oh Master, do not hold her by the hand so: a woman
is a Lime-bush, that catcheth all she toucheth.

_Charl._ I do most dangerously suspect this boy to be a wench; art
thou not one? come hither, let me feel thee.

_Ver._ With all my heart.

_Charl._ Why dost thou pull off thy Glove?

_Ver._ Why, to feel whether you be a boy, or no.

_Charl._ Fie boy, go too. I'll not look your head, nor comb your
locks any more, if you talk thus.

_Ver._ Why, I'll sing to you no more then.

_Charl._ Fie upon't, how sad you are! a young Gentleman that was
the very Sun of _France_.

_Mont._ But I am in the eclipse now.

_Cha[r]l._ Suffer himself to be over-run with a Lethargy of
melancholy and discontent! rouze up thy spirit, man, and shake it
off:

A Noble Soul is like a Ship at Sea,
That sleeps at Anchor when the Ocean's calm;
But when she rages, and the wind blows high,
He cuts his way with skill and Majesty.
I would turn a Fool, or Poet, or any thing, or marry, to
make you merry; prethee let's walk: good _Veramour_, leave
thy Master and me, I have earnest business with him.

_Ver._ Pray do you leave my Master, and me: we were very merry
before you came, he does not covet womens company.

What have you to do with him? come Sir will you go?
And I'll sing to you again:

I'faith his mind is stronger than to credit Womens vows, and too
pure to be capable of their loves.

_Charl._ The boy is jealo[u]s, sweet lad leave us: my Lady call'd
for you I swear: that's a good child, there's a piece of Gold for
thee, go buy a Feather.

_Ver._ There's two pieces for you, do you go and buy one, or what
you will, or nothing, so you go. Nay then I see you would have me
go, Sir; why, I'faith I will, now I perceive you love her better
than you do me; but [God] bless you whatever you do, or intend, I
know you are a very honest man. [_Exit._

_Charl._ Still [shall] I wooe thee, whilst thy ears reply
I cannot, or I will not marry thee?
Why hast thou drawn the bloud out of my cheeks,
And given a quicker motion to my heart?
Oh thou hast bred a Feaver in my veins
Call'd love, which no Physitian can cure;
Have mercy on a Maid, whose simple youth--

_Mont._ How your example, fairest, teacheth me
A ceremonious Idolatry! [_Kneels._
By all the joy of love, I love thee better,
Than I or any man can tell another;
And will express the mercy which thou crav'st,
I will forbear to marry thee: consider
Thou art Nature's heir in feature, and thy parents,
In fair Inheritances; rise with these thoughts,
And look on me; but with a womans eye,
A decaid fellow, void of means and spirit.

_Charl._ Of spirit?

_Mont._ Yes, could I tamely live,
Forget my Fathers bloud, wait, and make legs,
Stain my best breeches, with the servile drops
That fall from others draughts.

_Charl._ This vizard wherewith thou wouldst hide thy spirit,
Is perspective, to shew it plainlier.
This undervalue of thy life, is but
Because I should not buy thee, what more speaks
Greatness of man, than valiant patience,
That shrinks not under his fates strongest strokes?
These _Roman_ deaths, as falling on a sword,
Opening of veins, with poison quenching thirst,
(Which we erroneously do stile the deeds
Of the heroick and magnanimous man)
Was dead-ey'd cowardize, and white-cheek'd fear,
Who doubting tyranny, and fainting under
Fortunes false Lottery, desperately run
To death, for dread of death; that soul's most stout,
That bearing all mischance, dares last it out;
Will you perform your word, and marry me,
When I shall call you to't?

_Enter_ Longueville _with a riding-rod_.

_Mont._ I'faith I will.

_Charl._ Who's this alights here?

_Long._ With leave, fair creature, are you the Lady Mistriss of the
house?

_Charl._ Her servant, Sir.

_Long._ I pray then favour me, to inform your Lady, and Duke
_Orleans_ wife,

A business of import awaits 'em here,
And craves for speedy answer.

_Charl._ Are you in post, Sir?

_Long._ No, I am in Satin, Lady; I would you would be in post.

_Charl._ I will return, Sweet. [_Exit._

_Long._ Honest friend, do you belong to the house? I pray be
covered.

_Mont._ Yes Sir, I do.

_Long._ Ha, dream'st thou _Longaville_? sure 'tis not he: Sir I
should know you.

_Mont._ So should I you, but that I am asham'd.
But though thou know'st me, prethee _Longaville_,
Mock not my poverty, pray remember your self;
Shows it not strangely for thy cloaths to stand
Without a Hat to mine? mock me no more.

_Long._ The ---- embroider me all over, Sir,
If ever I began to mock you yet.
The ---- on me, why should I wear Velvet
And Silver Lace? ---- I will tear it off.

_Mont._ Why Mad-man?

_Long._ Put on my Hat? yes, when I am hang'd I will:
---- I could break my head.
For holding eyes that knew not you at first:
But time and fortune run your courses with him,
He'll laugh and storm you, when you shew most hate.

_Enter_ Lamira, Orlean's _Lady_, Laverdine, La Poop,
Malycorn, Veramour, Charlot.

_Lam._ You're a fair Mounsieur.

_Long._ Do you mock me, Lady?

_Lam._ Your business, Sir, I mean.

_Lady._ Regard your self good Mounsieur _Longueville_.

_Lam._ You are too negligent of your self and place,
Cover your head sweet Mounsieur.

_Long._ Mistake me not fair Ladies,
'Tis not to you, nor you, that I stand bare.

_Lav._ Nay sweet dear Mounsieur, let it not be to us then.

_La Poop._ ---- A compliment.

_Mal._ And ---- of manners.
Pray hide your head, your gallants use to do't.

_Long._ And you your foreheads, why you needful accessary rascals,
That cannot live without your mutual knaveries,
More than a Bawd, a Pandor, or a Whore
From one another; how dare you suspect
That I stand bare to you? what make you here?
Shift your house, Lady of 'em, for I know 'em,
They come to steal Napkins, and your Spoons;
Look to your Silver-bodkin, (Gentlewoman)
'Tis a dead _Utensil_, and Page 'ware your pockets;
My reverence is unto this man, my Master,
Whom you, with protestations, and oaths
As high as Heaven, as deep as Hell, which would
Deceive the wisest man of honest nature,
Have cozen'd and abus'd; but I may meet you,
And beat you one with th' other.

_Mont._ Peace, no more.

_Long._ Not a word, Sir.

_Lav._ I am something thick of hearing; what said he?

_La poop._ I hear him, but regard him not.

_Mal._ Nor I, I am never angry fasting.

_Long._ My love keeps back my duty, noblest Lady;
If Husband or brother merit love from you,
Prevent their dangers, this hour brings to trial
Their hereto sleeping hates; by this time each
Within a yard is of the others heart,
And met to prove their causes and their spirits
With their impartial swords points; haste and save,
Or never meet them more, but at the grave.

_Lady._ Oh my distracted heart, that my wrackt honor
Should for a Brothers, or a Husbands life, through thy undoing, die.

_Lam. Amiens_ engag'd; if he miscarry all my hopes and joys,
I now confess it loudly, are undone:
Caroch, and haste, one minute may betray
A life more worth than all time can repay.

[_Exeunt Ladies and_ Mont.

_Mal._ Hump: Monsieur _Laverdine_ pursues this boy extreamly,
Captain, what will you do?

_La p._ Any thing but follow to this Land-service; I am a
Sea-Captain you know, and to offer to part 'em, without we could
do't like Watermen with long staves, a quarter of a mile off, might
be dangerous.

_Mal._ Why then let's retire and pray for 'em, I am resolv'd to
stop your intent; abus'd more than we have been we cannot be,
without they fall to flat beating on's.

[_Exeunt_ Maly, La-poop.

_Lav._ And that were unkindly done i'faith.

_Ver._ But you are the trou[b]lesomest Ass that e'er I met with;
retire, you smell like a womans chamber, that's newly up, before
she have pinsht her vapours in with her cloaths.

_Lav._ I will haunt thee like thy Grandames Ghost, thou shalt never
rest for me.

_Ver._ Well, I perceive 'tis vain to conceal a secret from you:
believe it Sir, indeed I am a woman.

_Lav._ Why la; I knew't, this Prophetical tongue of mine never
fail'd me; my mother was half a witch, never any thing that she
forespake, but came to pass: a woman? how happy am I! now we may
lawfully come together without fear of hanging; sweet wench, be
gracious, in honourable sort I woe, no otherwise.

_Ver._ Faith, the truth is, I have loved you long.

_Lav._ See, see.

_Ver._ But durst not open it.

_Lav._ ---- I think so.

_Ver._ But briefly, when you bring it to the test, if there be not
one Gentleman in this house, will challenge more interest in me,
than you can, I am at your disposure. [_Exit._

_Lav._ Oh _Fortunatus_, I envy thee not
For Cap, or pouch, this day I'll prove my Fortune,
In which your Lady doth elect her Husband,
Who will [b]e _Amiens_, 'twill save my wedding dinner,
_Povera_, _La Poop_, and _Malicorn_: if all fail,
I will turn Citizen, a beauteous wife
Is the Horn-book to the richest Tradesmans life. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Duboys, Orleans, Longueville, Amiens, _two_
_Lacques, a Page with two Pistols_.

_Dub._ Here's a good even piece of ground my Lords:
Will you fix here?

_Orl._ Yes, any where; Lacquey, take off my spurs;
Upon a bridge, a rail, but my swords breadth upon a battlement,
I'll fight this quarrel.

_Dub._ O' the Ropes, my Lord.

_Orl._ Upon a Line.

_Dub._ So all our Countrey Duels are carried, like a firework on a
thred.

_Orl._ Go now, stay with the horses, and, do you hear?
Upon your lives, till some of us come to you,
Dare not to look this way.

_Dub._ Except you see strangers or others that by chance or purpose
are like to interrupt us.

_Orl._ Then give warning.

_Long._ Who takes a sword? the advantage is so small,
As he that doubts, hath the free leave to choose.

_Orl._ Come, give me any, and search me; 'tis not
The ground, weapon, or seconds that can make
Odds in those fatal trials: but the cause.

_Ami._ Most true, and, but it is no time to wish
When men are come to do, I would desire
The cause 'twixt us were other than it is;
But where the right is, there prevail our Swords.
And if my Sister have out-liv'd her honor,
I do not pray I may out-live her shame.

_Orl._ Your Sister _Amiens_, is a whore, at once.

_Ami._ You oft have spoke that sence to me before,
But never in th[i]s language _Orleance_;
And when you spoke it fair, and first, I told you
That it was possible you might be abus'd:
But now, since you forget your manners, you shall find,
If I transgress my custom, you do lye,
And are a villain, which I had rather yet
My sword had prov'd, than I been forc'd to speak:
Nay, give us leave, and since you stand so haughtily
And highly on your cause, let you and I,
Without engaging these two Gentlemen, singly determine it.

_Long._ My Lord, you'll pardon us.

_Dub._ I trust your Lordships may not do us that affront.

_Ami._ As how?

_Dub._ We kiss your Lordships hand, and come to serve you here with
swords.

_Long._ My Lord, we understand our selves.

_Dub._ We have had the honor to be call'd unto the business, and we
must not now quit it on terms.

_Ami._ Not terms of reason?

_Long._ No, no [r]eason for the quitting of our calling.

_Dub._ True, if I be call'd to't I must ask no reason.

_Long._ Nor hear none neither, which is less:
It is a favour, if my throat be cut,
Your Lordship does me; which I never can,

[_A noise-within, crying down with your swords._

Nor must have hope how to requite: what noise?
What cry is that my Lord upon your guard?
So[me] treachery is a foot.

_Enter Lady_ Orleans, Lamira, Montague.

_Lady._ Oh here they are:
My Lord (dear Lady help me) help me all;
I have so woful interest in both,
I know not which to fear for most: and yet
I must prefer my Lord. Dear brother,
You are too understanding, and too noble
To be offended, when I know my duty,
Though scarce my tears will let me so to do it.

_Orl._ Out loathed strumpet.

_Lady._ Oh my dearest Lord,
If words could on me cast the name of whore,
I then were worthy to be loath'd; but know,
Your unkindness cannot make me wicked;
And therefore should less use that power upon me.

_Orl._ Was this your Art to make these Actors come,
To make this interlude? withdraw, cold man,
And if thy spirit be not frozen up,
Give me one stroke yet at thee for my vengeance.

_Ami._ Thou shalt have strokes, and strokes, thou glorious man,
Till thou breath'st thinner air than that thou talkest.

_Lam._ My Lord, Count _Amiens_.

_Lady._ Princely Husband.

_Orl._ Whore.

[_Lam._] You wrong her impudent Lord; oh that I had the bulk
Of those dull men; look how they stand, and no man
Will revenge an innocent Lady.

_Ami._ You hinder it Madam.

_Lam._ I would hinder you; is there none else to kill him?

_Lady._ Kill him, Madam? have you learn'd that bad language? oh repent,
And be the motive, rather both kill me.

_Orl._ Then d[i]e my infamy.

_Mont._ Hold bloody man.

_Orl._ Art thou there Basilisk?

_Mont._ To strike thee dead, but that thy fate deserves some
weightier hand.

_Dub._ Sweet my Lord.

_Orl._ Oh here's a plot; you bring your champions with you; the
adultress with the adulterer: Out howling--

_Dub._ Good my Lord.

_Orl._ Are you her Graces countenancer, Lady, the receiver to the
poor vicious couple.

_Dub._ Sweet my Lord.

_Orl._ Sweet rascal, didst not tho[u] tell me, false fellow,
This _Montague_ here was murdered?

_Dub._ I did so; but he was falser, and a worthless Lord,
Like thy foul self that would have had it so.

_Long. Orleance_ 'tis true, and shall be prov'd upon thee.

_Mont._ Thy malice Duke, and this thy wicked nature, are all as
visible as thou; but I born to contemn thy injuries, do know, that
though thy greatness may corrupt a Jury, and make a Judge afraid,
and carry out a world of evils with thy Title: yet thou art not
quiet at home, thou bearest about thee that, that doth charge thee,
and condemn thee too. The thing that grieves me more, and doth
indeed displease me, is, to think that so much baseness stands here
to have encountred so much honor: Pardon me my Lord, what late my
passion spake, when you provok'd my innocence.

_Orl._ Yes, do, oh! flattery becomes him better than the suit he
wears; give him a new one, _Amiens_.

_Ami. Orleance_, 'tis here no time nor place, to jest or rail
Poorly with you, but I will find a time to
Whisper you forth to this, or some fit place,
As shall not hold a second interruption.

_Mont._ I hope your Lordships honor, and your life
Are destined unto higher hazards; this is of
A meaner arm.

_Dub._ Yes faith, or none.

_Long._ He is not fit to fall by an honest Sword,
A Prince and lye!

_Dub._ And slander, and hire men
To publish the false rumours he hath made.

_Long._ And stick 'em on his friends, and innocents.

_Dub._ And practice against their lives after their fames.

_Long._ In men that are the matter of all lewdness,
Bawds, Thieves, and Cheaters, it were monstrous.

_Dub._ But in a man of bloud, how more conspicuous!

_Ami._ Can this be?

_Lady._ They do slander him.

_Orl._ Hang them, a pair of railing hangbies.

_Long._ How? stand _Orleance_; stay, give me my Pistols boy,
Hinder me not, by----
I will kill him.

_Lady._ Oh, stay his fury.

_Ami. Longueville_, my friend.

_Long._ Not for my self, my Lord, but for mankind,
And all that have an interest to virtue,
Or title unto innocence.

_Ami._ Why hear me.

_Long._ For justice sake.

_Ami._ That cannot be.

_Long._ To punish his wives, your honor, and my Lords wrongs here,
whom I must ever call so; for your loves I'll swear I'll sacrifice--

_Ami. Longueville_, I did not think you a murtherer before.

_Long._ I care not what you thought me.

_Ami._ By ---- If thou attempt
His life, thy own is forfeit.

_Mont._ Foolish frantick man, the murder will be of us, not him.

_Lady._ Oh [God]!

_Mont._ We could have kill'd him, but we would not take
The justice out of fates.--
Sindge but a hair of him, thou diest.

_Long._ No matter, shoot.

_Ami._ Villain.

_Dub._ My Lord, your Sister is slain.

_Ami. Biancha?_

_Mont._ Oh hapless, and most wretched chance.

_Lam._ Standst thou looking upon the mischief thou hast made?
Thou godless man, feeding thy blood-shot eyes
With the red spectacle, and art not turn'd to stone
With horror? Hence, and take the wings of thy black
Infamy, to carry thee beyond the shoot of looks,
Or sound of curses, which will pursue thee still:
Thou hast out-fled all but thy guilt.

_Orl._ Oh wish it off again, for I am crack'd
Under the burden, and my heart will break.
How heavy guilt is, when men come to feel
If you could know the mountain I sustain
With horror, you would each take off your part,
And more, to ease me: I cannot stand,
Forgive where I have wrong'd, I pray.

_Ami._ Look to him _Montague_.

_Long._ My Lords and Gentlemen, the Lady is well, but for fear,
Unless that have shot her;
I have the worst on't, that needs would venture
Upon a trick had like to ha' cost my guts:
Look to her, she'll be well, it was but Powder
I charg'd with, thinking that a guilty man
Would have been frighted sooner; but I'm glad
He's come at last.

_La[m]._ How is _Byancha_? well?

_Ami._ Lives she? see Sister, doth she breathe?

_Lady._ Oh Gentlemen, think you I can breathe,
That am restored to the hateful sense
Of feeling in me my dear husbands death?
Oh no, I live not; life was that I left;
And what you have call'd me to, is death indeed:
I cannot weep so fast as he doth bleed.

_Dub._ Pardon me, Madam, he is well.

_Lady._ Ha my Husband.

_Orl._ I cannot speak whether my joy or shame
Be greater, but I thank the Heavens for both.
Oh look not black upon me, all my friends,
To whom I will be reconcil'd, or grow unto
This earth, till I have wept a trench
That shall be great enough to be my grave,
And I will think them too most manly tears,
If they do move your pities: it is true,
Man should do nothing that he should repent;
But if he have, and say that he is sorry,
It is a worse fault, if he be not truly.

_Lam._ My Lord, such sorrow cannot be suspected:
Here take your honoured wife, and joyn your hands.
----She hath married you again:
And Gentlemen, I do invite you all,
This night to take my house, where on the morrow,
To heighten more the reconciling feast,
I'll make my self a Husband and a guest. [_Exeunt._

_Actus Quintus. Scæna Prima._

_Enter_ Montague, _and_ Charlotte.

_Charl._ Well now I am sure you are mine.

_Mont._ I am sure I am glad
I have one to own then; you'll find me honest
As these days go, enough; poor without question,
Which beggars hold a virtue; give me meat, and I
Shall do my work, else knock my shooes off,
And turn me out again.

_Char._ You are a merry fellow.

_Mont._ I have no great cause.

_Char._ Yes, thy love to me.

_Mont._ That's as we make our game.

_Char._ Why, you repent then?

_Mont._ Faith no worse than I am I cannot be;
Much better I expect not: I shall love you,
And when you bid me go to bed, obey,
Lie still or move, as you shall minister;
Keep a four-Nobles Nag, and a _Jack_
_Merling_, learn to love Ale, and play at Two-hand _Irish_,
And there's then all I aim at.

_Char._ Nay sweet fellow, I'll make it something better.

_Mont._ If you do, you'll make me worse:
Now I am poor, and willing to do well,
Hold me in that course; of all the Kings creatures,
I hate his coin, keep me from that, and save me;
For if you chance out of your housewivery
To leave a hundred pound or two, bestow it
In Plumb-broth e'r I know it, else I take it;
Seek out a hundred men that want this money,
Share it among 'em, they'll cry noble _Montague_,
And so I stand again at livery.