Scaena prima.

Gods lid man, seruice is ready to go vp man, you must slip on your coate and come in, we lacke waiters pitty­fully.

A pittifull hearing, for now must I of a merry Cobler become mourning creature.

Well youle come.

Presto. Go to, a word to the wise, away, flie? vanish: Lye there the weedes that I disdaine to weare.

God saue you Maister Iuniper.

What Signior Antonio Balladino, welcome sweet Ingle,

And how do you sir?

Faith you see, put to my shifts here as poore retainers be oftentimes, sirrah Antony ther's one of my fellowes mighte­ly enamored of thee, and I faith you slaue, now your come I'le bring you together, i'ts Peter Onion, the groome of the hal, do you know him.

No not yet, I assure you.

O he is one as right of thy humour as may be, a plaine simple Rascal, a true dunce, marry he hath bene anotable vilaine in his time: he is in loue, sirrah, with awench, & I haue preferd thee to him, thou shalt make him some prety Paradox or some Aligory, how does my coate sit? well.

I very well.

Na Gods so, fellow Iuniper, come away.

Art thou there mad slaue, I come with a powder?. Sirrah fellow Onion. I must haue you peruse this Gentleman well, and doe him good offices of respect and kindnesse, as in­stance shall be giuen.

Nay good maister Onion what do you meane, I pray you sir you are to respectue in good faith.

I would not you should thinke so sir, for though I haue no learning, yet I honour a scholer in any ground of the earth sir,

Shall I request your name sir?

My name is Antonio Balladino.

Balladino? you are not Pageant Poet to the City of Mil­laine sir▪ are you.

I supply the place sir: when aworse cannot be had sir.

I crie you mercy sir, I loue you the better for that sir, by Iesu you must pardon me, I knew you not, but Il'd pray to be better acquainted with you sir, I haue seene of your works.

I am at your seruice good Maister Onion, but concer­ning this maiden that you loue sir? what is she,

O did my fellow Iuniper tell you? marry sir, she is [Page]as one may say, but a poore mans child indeede, and for mine owne part I am no Gentleman borne I must confesse, but my mind to me a kingdome is truly.

Truly a very good saying.

T'is somewhat stale, but that's no matter.

O t'is the better, such things euer are like bread, which the staler it is, the more holesome.

This is but a hungry comparison in my iudgement.

Why, I'le tell you, M. Onion, I do vse as much stale stuffe, though I say it my selfe, as any man does in that kind I am sure. Did you see the last Pageant, I set forth?

No faith sir, but there goes a huge report on't.

Why, you shal be one of my Maecen-asses, I'le giue you one of the bookes, O you'le like it admirably.

Nay that's certaine, I'le get my fellow Iuniper to read it.

Reade it sir, I'le reade it to you.

Tut then I shall not chuse but like it.

Why looke you sir, I write so plaine, and keepe that old Decorum, that you must of necessitie like it; mary you shall haue some now (as for example, in plaies) that will haue eue­ry day new trickes, and write you nothing but humours: in­deede this pleases the Gentlemen: but the common sort they care not for't, they know not what to make on't, they looke for good matter, they, and are not edified with such toyes.

You are in the right, I'le not giue a halfepeny to see a thousand on'hem. I was at one the last Tearme, but & euer I see a more roguish thing, I am a peece of cheese, & no onion, nothing but kings & princes in it, the foole came not out a lot.

True sir, they would haue me make such plaies, but as I tell hem, and they'le giue me twenty pound a play, I'le not raise my vaine.

No, it were a vaine thing, and you should sir.

Tut giue me the penny, giue me the peny, I care not for the Gentlemen I, let me haue a good ground, no matter for the pen the plot shall carry it.

Indeed that's right, you are in print already for the [Page]best plotter.

I, I might as well ha bene put in for a dumb shew too.

I marry sir, I marle you were not, stand aside sir a while:

How now friend, what are you there? be vncouered, Would you speake with any man here?

I, or else I must Ira' returnd you no answer.

Friend, you are somewhat to peremptory, let's craue your absence: nay neuer scorne it, I am a little your better in this place.

I do acknowledge it.

Do you acknowledge it? nay then you shall go forth, Ile teach you how shall acknowledge it another time; go to, void, I must haue the hall purg'd, no setting vp of a rest here, packe, begone.

I pray you sir is not your name Onion?

Your friend as you may vse him, and M. Onion, say on.

M. Onion with a murraine, come come put off this Lyons hide, your eares haue discouered you, why Peter! do not I know you Peter?

Gods so, Valentine!

O can you take knowledge of me now sir?

Good Lord, sirra, how thou art altred with thy trauell?

Nothing so much as thou art with thine office, but sirra, Onion is the Count Ferneze at home?

I Bully, he is aboue; and the Lord Paulo Ferneze, his son, and Maddam Aurelia, & maddam Phaenixella, his daugh­ters, But O Valentine?

How now man, how dost thou?

Faith sad, heauy, as a man of my coate ought to be.

Why man, thou wert merry inough euen now.

Dead!

I faith.

When dyed she?

Mary, to morrow shall be three months, she was seene going to heauen they say, about some fiue weekes agone! how now? trickling teares, ha?

Faith thou hast made me weepe with this newes.

Faith thou hast made me weepe with this newes.

Why I haue done but the parte of an Onion, you must pardon me.

Scaene. 2.

What Valentiue? fellow Onion, take my dish I prithee you rogue sirrah, tell me, how thou dost, sweet Ingle.

Faith, Iuniper, the better to see thee thus frolicke.

Nay, slid I am no changling, I am Iuniper still.

I keepe the pristmate ha, you mad Hierogliphick, when shal we swagger.

Hierogliphick, what meanest thou by that.

Meane? Gods so, ist not a good word man? what? stand vpon meaning with your freinds. Puh, Absconde.

Why, but stay, stay, how long has this sprightly humor haunted thee?

Foe humour, a foolish naturall gift we haue in the Ae­quinoctiall.

Naturall, slid it may be supernaturall, this?

Valentine, I prithee ruminate thy selfe welcome. What fortuna de la Guerra.

Sirrah Ingle, I thinke thou hast seene all the strange countries in Christendome since thou wentst?

I haue seene some Iuniper.

You haue seene Constantinople?

I, that I haue.

And Ierusalem, and the Indies, and Goodwine sands, and the tower of Babylon, and Venice and all.

I all; [...] and he haue a nimble tong, if he prac­tise to vault thus from one side of the world to another.

O it's a most heauenly thing to trauel, & see countries, especially at sea, and a man had a pattent not to be sicke.

O sea sicke lest, and full of the scuruie.

Scaene 3.

Valentine? welcome I faith how dost sirra?

How do you good Valentine.

Troth, Valentine, I am glad to see you.

Welcome sweet rogue.

Before God he neuer lookt better in his life.

And how ist man? what, Alla Coragio.

Neuer better gentlemen I faith.

S'will here comes the steward.

Why how now fellowes all here? and nobody to waight aboue now they are ready to rise? looke vp one or two Signior Francesco Colomia's man how doo's your good maister.

In health sir he will be here anon.

Is he come home, then?

I sir he is not past sixe miles hence, he sent me before to learne if Count Ferneze were here and returne him word.

Yes, my Lord is here; and you may tel your maister he shal come very happily to take his leaue of Lord Paulo Fer­neze: who is now instantly to depart with other noble gentle­men, vpon speciall seruice.

I will tell him sir.

I pray you doe, fellowes make him drinke.

Sirs, what seruice ist they are imployed in?

Why against the French they meane to haue a fling at Millaine againe they say.

Who leades our forces, can you tell?

Marry that do's Signior Maximilian? he is aboue, now.

Who, Maximilian of Vicenza?

I he? do you know him?

Know him? O yes he's an excellent braue soldier.

I so they say, but one of the most vaine glorious men in Europe.

He is indeed, marry exceeding valient.

And that is rare.

What.

Why to see a vaineglorious man valient.

Well he is so I assure you.

What no further yet, come on you precious rascall, sir Valentine, Ile giue you a health I faith, for the heauens you mad Capriceio, hold hooke and line.

Scaene 4.

Boy.

My Lord.

I will my Lord.

How now sweet Lord, whats the matter?

Marry in the galery, where your Lordship left him.

My Lord.

How now?

Why starts your Lordship?

I thought I heard my father comming hither ward, list, ha?

I heare not any thing, it was but your imagination sure.

No?

No, I assure your Lordship.

I would worke safely.

Why, has he no knowledge of it then?

He is comming this way, let's withdraw a little.

Scaene 5.

VVHere should he be, trow? did you looke in the armory?

No my Lord.

No, why there? ô who would keepe such drones?

How now, ha ye found him?

No my Lord.

No my good Lord.

Your good Lord, ô how this smels of fennell.

You haue bene in the garden it appeares, well, well.

We cannot find him my Lord.

He is not in the armory.

He is not, he is no where, is he?

Count Ferneze.

Signior.

Preserue your patience honorable Count.

Ant please your honour.

Tut, tut, leaue pleasing of my honour Diligence, you double with we, come.

How: does he find fault with Please his Honour. S'wounds it has begun a seruing mans speech, euer since I be­longd to the blew order: I know not how it may shew, now I am in blacke, but—

Whats that, you mutter sir? will you proceed?

Ant like your good Lordship.

Yet more; Gods precious.

What, do not this like him neither?

What say you sir knaue?

Mary I say your Lordship were best to set me to schoole againe, to learne how to deliuer a message.

What do you take exceptions at me then.

Exception? I take no exceptions, but by Gods so your humours—

Go to you are a Raskall, hold your tongue.

Your Lordships poore seruant, I.

Tempt not my patience.

Why I hope I am no spirit, am I?

My Lord, command your Steward to correct the slaue.

Correct him, S'bloud come you and correct him and you haue a minde to it, correct him, that's a good iest I faith, the Steward and you both, come and correct him.

Nay see, away with him, pull his cloth ouer his eares.

Cloth? tell me of your cloth, here's your cloth, nay and I mourne a minute longer, I am the rottenest Onion that e­uer spake with a tongue.

What call your hind's count Ferneze?

His name is Onion Signior,

I thought him some such sawcy companion.

Signior Maximillian.

Sweet Lord.

Most noble Count vnder your fauour—

Sweet Lord satisfie your selfe, I am not now to learn how to manage my affections, I haue obseru'd, and know the difference betweene a base wretch and a true man, I can distinguish them, the property of the wretch is, he would hurt and cannot, of the man, he can hurt, and will not.

Tut, let me alone. By your fauour, this is the Gen­tleman I thinke, Sir you appeare to be an honorable Gentle­man, I vnderstand, and could wish (for mine owne part) that things were conden't otherwise then they are: but (the world knowes) a foolish fellow, somewhat procliue, and hasty, he did it in a preiudicate humour; mary now vpon better com­putation, he wanes; he melts; his poore eyes are in a cold sweat. Right noble Signior, you can haue but compunction, I loue the man, tender your compassion.

Doth any man here vnderstand this fellow?

O God sir, I may say frustra to the comprehension of your intellection.

O with all my soule my Lord, is that his motion?

I sir, and we shall retort these kinde fauours with all allacrity of spirit, we can sir, as may be most expedient, as well for the quality as the cause, till when in spight of this complement: I rest a poore Cobler, seruant to my honorable Lord here, your friend and Iuniper.

How Iuniper?

I Signior.

He is a sweete youth, his tongue has a happy turne when he sleepes.

O Francisco' you knew her what she was!

She was a wise and honorable Lady.

Are your horse ready Lord Paulo,

I signior the stay for vs at the gate.

Sir I could wish the number and value of them more in respect of your deseruings. But Signior Maximillian. I pay you a word in priuate.

I Faith brother you are fitted for a generall yonder, Beshrow my heart (If I had Fortunatus hat here) and I would not wish my selfe a man and go with you, only t'enioy his pre­sence.

Why do you loue him so well sister.

No by my troth, but I haue such an odde prety appre­hension of his humour me thinks: that I am eene tickled with the conceite of it.

O he is a fine man.

And me thinks another may be as fine as he.

O Angelio, do you thinke I do vrge any comparison a­gainst you? no, I am not so ill bred, as to be a deprauer of your worthines: beleeue me, if I had not some hope of your abiding with vs, I should neuer desire to go out of black whilst I liued: but learne to speake i'the nose, and turne puritan presently.

I thanke you Lady: I know you can flout.

Come doe you take it so? I faith you wrong me.

Why but stay, I beseech you, had your Lordship euer any more sonnes then this.

Why haue not you knowen it Maximilian?

Let my Sword faile me then.

Grieue not sweet Count: comfort your spirts, you haue a sonne a noble gentleman, he stands in the face of ho­nour: For his safety let that be no question. I am maister of my fortune, and he shall share with me. Farewell my honorable Lord. Ladies once more adiew, for your selfe maddam you are a most rare creature, I tell you so, be not proud of it, I loue you: come Lord Paulo to horse.

Adiew good Signior Francesco: farewell sister.

How shall we rid him hence.

Your motion hath tast wel: Lord Ferneze I go

Gone abroad my Lord:

Thats well,

I my sweet Rachel.

Before God, she is a sweet wench.

Faiah tell me Angelio how dost thou like her?

Troth well my Lord, but shall I speake my mind.

I prithee doe.

Come you are so sententious my Lord.

Here comes her father. How dost thou good Iaques?

God saue thee Iaques.

What should this meane? Rachel open the dore.

Scaena prima.

VVhat is your pleasure sir?

I will sir.

Scaene 2.

What sayes my fellow Onion? come on.

All of a house sir, but no fellowes, you are my Lords Steward, but I pray you what thinke you of loue, sir?

Of loue Onion? Why it's a very honourable humor.

Nay if it be but worshipfull I care not.

Go to, it's honorable, checke not at the conceit of the Gentleman.

Gramercy fellow Onion: I do thinke well, thou art in loue, art thou?

Partly sir, but I am asham'd to say wholy.

Well, I will further it in thee to any honest woman, or maiden, the best I can.

But who is it thou louest fellow Onion?

Mary a poore mans daughter, but none of the honest­est, I hope.

Why, wouldst thou not haue her honest?

O no, for then I am sure she would not haue me. T'is Rachel de Prie.

Why, she hath the name of a very vertuous mayden.

So shee is sir, but the fellow talkes in quiddits, he.

What wouldst thou haue me do in the matter?

Do nothing sir, I pray you, but speake for me.

In what maner?

My fellow Iuniper can tell you sir.

Why as thus sir. Your worship may commend him for a fellow fit for consanguinity, and that he shaketh with defire of procreation, or so.

That were not so good, me thinkes.

No sir, why so sir? what if you should say to her, correborate thy selfe sweete soule, let me distinguish thy pappes with my fingers, diuine Mumps, prety Pastorella? lookest thou so sweet and bounteous? comfort my friend here.

Well I perceiue you wish, I should say something may do him grace, and further his desires, and that be sure I will.

I thanke you sir, God saue your life, I pray God sir.

Your worship is too good to liue long: youle con­taminate me no seruice.

Command thou wouldest say, no good Iuniper.

Health and wealth sir.

Scaene 3.

Scaene. 4.

If we had them.

O you cut my heart with your sharpe eye.

Nay Lady thats not so, your heart's to hard.

My beauties hart?

And therefore you wil ride them.

No not with you, hark you sweet Lady.

Your refuge, why sir.

That I might fly to you, when all else faile me.

And you be good at flying, be my Plouer.

Nay take away the P.

Tut, then you cannot fly.

Ile warrant you. Ile borrow Cupids wings.

O this is rate.

Scaene 6.

One of my mistresses? why thinks your Lordship I haue so many

Nay good my Lord fourteene: it is not so.

Sbloud you are such a Lord.

Your Lordship yet may trust both them with him.

Scaene 7.

I haue an humble suit to your good Lordship.

A suit Christopher? what suit I prithee?

No, no, Christopher, I know thee honest.

Good faith my Lord, your honour may suspect it▪ but—

I humbly thanke your honour. Ile now aske her father.

Scaene 8.

Come on Ifaith, lets to some exercise or other my hearts: Fetch the hilts fellow Iuniper, wilt thou play:

I cannot resolue you? tis as I am fitted with the inge­nuity, quantity, or quality of the cudgell.

How dost thou bastinado the poore cudgell with tearmes?

O Ingle, I haue the phrases man, and the Anagrams and the Epitaphs, fitting the mistery of the noble science.

Ile be hangd & he were not misbegotten of some fen­cer.

Sirrah Valentine, you can resolue me now, haue they their maisters of defence in other countries as we haue here in Italy?

O Lord, I, especially they in Vtopia, there they per­forme their prizes and chalenges, with as great cerimony as the Italian or any nation else.

Indeed? how is the manner of it (for gods loue) good Valeniine?

Ingle? I prithee make recourse vnto vs, wee are thy friends and familiars: sweet Ingle.

Why thus sir.

God a mercy good Valentine, nay go on.

Silentium bonus socius Onionus, good fellow Onion be not so ingenious, and turbulent: so fir? and how? how sweete Ingle?

Marry, first they are brought to the publicke Theater:

What? ha? they Theater there

Theaters? I and plaies to: both tragidy and comedy & set foorth with as much state as can be imagined?

By Gods so; a man is nobody, till he has trauelled.

And how are their plaies? as ours are? extemporall?

O no? all premeditated things, and some of them ve­ry good I faith, my maister vsed to visite them often when he was there.

Why how are they in a place where any man may see them?

I, in the common Theaters, I tell you. But the sport is at a new play to obserue the sway and variety of oppinion that passeth it. A man shall haue such a confus'd mixture of iudgement, powr'd out in the throng there, as ridiculous, as laughter it selfe: one saies he likes not the writing, another likes not the plot, another not the playing. And sometimes a fellow that comes not there past once in fiue yeare at a Parli­ament time or so, will be as deepe myr'd in censuring as the best, and sweare by Gods foote he would neuer stirre his foote to see a hundred such as that is.

I must trauell to see these things, I shall nere think well of my selfe else.

Fellow Onion, Ile beare thy charges and thou wilt but pilgrimize it along with me, to the land of Vtopia.

Why but me thinkes such rookes as these should be asham'd to iudge.

Not a whit? the rankest stinkard of them all, will take vpon him as peremptory, as if he had writ himselfe in artibus magister.

And do they stand to a popular censure for any thing they present.

I euer, euer, and the people generally are very ac­ceptiue and apt to applaud any meritable worke, but there are two sorts of persons that most commonly are infectious to a whole auditory.

What be they?

I come lets know them.

It were good they were noted.

Marry? one is the rude barbarous crue, a people that haue no braines, and yet grounded iudgements, these will hisse [Page]any thing that mounts aboue their grounded capacities. But the other are worth the obseruation, I faith.

What be they? what be they?

Faith a few Caprichious gallants.

Caprichious? stay, that word's for me.

And they haue taken such a habit of dislike in all things, that they will approue nothing, be it neuer so concei­ted or elaborate, but sit disperst, making faces, and spitting, wagging their vpright eares and cry filthy, filthy. Simply vtte­ring their owne condition, and vsing their wryed countenan­ces in stead of a vice, to turne the good aspects of all that shall sit neere them, from what they behold.

Ingle Valentine?

Not I sir, I professe it not.

Sebastian.

Balthasar.

Who? I?

Come, but one bout, Ile giue hem thee, I faith.

Why, heres Martino.

Foe he, alas he cannot play a whit, man.

That's all one: no more could you in stata quo prius, Martino, play with him, euery man has his beginning and conduction.

Will you not hurt me fellow Onion?

Hurt thee, no? and I do, put me among pot-hearbs, And chop me to peeces, come on?

By your fauor sweet bullies giue them roome, back, so, Martino, do not looke so thin vpon the matter.

Ha, well plaid, fall ouer to my legge now? so, to your guard againe, excellent, to my head now, make home your blow: spare not me, make it home, good, good a gaine.

Why how now Peter?

Gods so, Onion has caught a bruise.

Couragio? be not caprichious? what?

Caprichious? not I, I scorn to be caprichious for a scrach, Martino must haue another bout, come.

No, no, play no more, play no more.

Foe, tis nothing a philip, a deuise, fellow Iuniper pri­thee get me a Plantan, I had rather play with one that had skil by halfe.

By my troth, fellow Onion, twas against my will.

Not a bout, not a stroke.

No more, no more.

Why Ile giue you demonstration, how it came, Thou openest the dagger to falsifie ouer with the back sword frick, and he interrupted, before he could fall to the close.

No, no, I know best how it was better thē any man here, I felt his play presently: for looke you, I gathered vpon him thus, thus do you see? for the double locke, and tooke it single on the head.

He sayes very true, he tooke it single on the head.

Come lets go.

Here fellow Onion, heres a cob-web.

How? a cob-web Martino, I will haue another bout with you? S'wounds do you first breake my head, and then giue me a plaister in scorne? come to it, I will haue a bout.

God's my witnesse.

Tut! your witnesse cannot serue.

S'bloud? why what, thou art not lunatike, art thou? and thou bee'st auoide Mephostophiles. Say the signe shoud be in Aries now: as it may be for all vs, where were your life? An­swere me that?

Hee sayes well, Onion.

I indeed doo's he.

Come, come, you are a foolish Naturalist, go, get a white a of an egge, and a little flax, and close the breach of the [Page]head, it is the most conducible thing that can be. Martino, do not insinuate vpon your good fortune, but play an honest part and beare away the bucklers.

Scaene 1.

Scaene 2.

God saue you honest father.

Rachel, Gods light, come to me, Rachel, Rachel!

Tis safe, tis safe, they haue notrob'd my treasure.

Let it not feeme offensiue to you sir.

Sir, Gods my life, sir, sir, call me sir.

Good father here me.

At what sir? what ist you meane?

I do thinke good father, you are but poore,

What say you father, shall I haue your daughter?

I haue no dowry to bestow vpon her.

I do expect none, father.

Scaene 3. Iaques, Count.

Here is the poore old man.

Out of my soule another, comes he hither?

Be not dismaid old man, I come to cheere you.

Why father, this is nothing.

O yes, good my Lord.

Indeed it is not.

Scaene 7. Nuncio, Count.

You are right welcome sir.

I would I brought such newes as might deserue it.

What, bring you me ill newes?

Tis not so ill my Lord.

How then?

My good my Lord, he is return'd with prisoners.

My Lord no care can change the euents of war.

Scaene 5.

Scaene 1.

Lord Chamount and your valient friend there, I can­not say welcome to Millaine: your thoughts and that word are not musicall, but I can say you are come to Millaine.

Mort diew.

Gar soone.

Gentlemen (I would cal an Emperour so) you are now my prisoners, I am sorry, marry this, spit in the face of your fortunes, for your vsage shall be honorable.

It shall do so still I assure you, and I will giue you rea­son, there is in this last action (you know) a noble gentleman of our party, & a right valient; semblably prisoner to your gene­ral, as your honor'd selfe's to me, for whose safety, this tongue hath giuen warrant to his honorable father, the Count Ferneze. You conceiue me.

I signior.

Well? then I must tell you your ransomes be to re­deeme him, what thinke you? your answer.

Mounsieur Gasper (I take it so is your name) mis­prise me not, I wil trample on the hart, on the soule of him that shall say, I will wrong you: what I purpose, you cannot now know; but you shall know, and doubt not to your content­ment. Lord Chamount, I will leaue you, whilest I go in and present my selfe to the honorable Count, till my regression so please you, your noble feete may measure this priuate, plea­sant and most princely walke, Souldiers regard them and re­spect them.

O Ver bon: excellenta gull, he tak'a my Lord Chamoun [...] for Mounsieur Gaspra, & Mounsieur Gaspra for my Lord Cha­mont, ô dis be braue for make a me laugh'a, ha, ha, ha, ô my heart tickla.

Vtteria? vat Mounsieur?

That he is Gasper, and I true Chamont.

Speake not so loud Pacue.

Foe, you shall not heare foole, for all your long eare, Reguard Mounsieur: you be de Chamont, Chamont be Gas­pra.

Peace, here comes Maximilian.

O belike that's the Count Ferneze, that old man.

Are those his daughters, trow?

I sure, I thinke they are.

Fore God the taller is a gallant Lady.

So are they both beleeue me.

True my honorable Lord, that Chamont was the fa­ther of this man.

He had indeed, well, speake no more of him.

Signior perceiue you the errour? twas no good of­fice in vs to stretch the remembrance of so deere a losse. Count Ferneze, let sommer sit in your eye, looke cheerefully sweete Count, will you do me the honour to confine this noble spi­rit within the circle of your armes?

Noble Lord, tis thus. I haue here (in mine honour) set this gentleman free, without ransome, he is now himselfe, his valour hath deseru'd it, in the eye of my iudgement. Moun­sieur Gasper you are deere to me: fortuna non mutuat genus. But to the maine, if it may square with your Lordships li­king, and his loue, I could desire that he were now instant­ly imployed to your noble Generall in the exchange of Fer­neze for your selfe, it is the businesse that requires the tender hand of a friend.

True my Lord. Mounsieur Gasper, how stand you affected to this motion?

My duty must attend his Lordships will.

What sayes the Lord Chamont?

My will doth then apprroue what these haue vrg'd.

Why there is good harmony, good musicke in thise Mounsieur Gasper, you shall protract no time, onely I will giue you a bowle of rich wine to the health of your Generall, another to the successe of your iourney, and a third to the loue of my sword. Passe.

Good faith me thinkes that this young Lord Cha­mont fauours my mother, sister, does he not?

And what of that?

Go. go, you soole. Adiew.

Contenta: Reguarde, vou le Preimer.

Sirra Finio?

Mort deiu le pesant.

Didst thou see Valentine?

Valentine? no.

No?

No. Sirrah Onion, whither goest?

O I am vext, he that would trust any of these lying trauellers.

I prithee stay good Onion.

Mounsieur Onion, vene ca, come hidera, Ie vou prey. By gar me ha see two, tree, foure hundra towsand of your Cousan hang. Lend me your hand, shall prey for know you bettra.

I thanke you good signior Parla vou? O that I were in an other world, in the Ingies, or some where, that I might haue roome to laugh.

A we fort boon: stand? you be deere now, me come, Boon iour Mounsieur.

God morrow good signior.

By gar, be mush glad for see you.

I returne you most kind thanks sir.

How? how? Sbloud this is rare?

Nay, shall make you say rare by and by, Reguard Mounsieur Finio,

Signior Pache.

Dieu vou gard Mounsieur.

God saue you sweet signior

Mounsieur On ion? is not fort boon.

Beane? quoth he, would I were in debt of a pottle of beanes I could do as much.

Welcome signior, whats next?

O here, Void de grand admiration, as should meet per­chance Mounsieur Finio,

Mounsieur Pacue

Iesu? by Gar who thinke wee shall meete here?

By this hand I am not a little proud of it, sir

This trick is onely for the the chamber, it cannot be cleanly done abroad,

Well what say you for dis den? Mounsieur:

Nay pray, sir.

Par ma foy vou bein encounters?

What doe you meane sir, let your gloue alone.

Comen, se porte la sante.

Faith exceeding well sir.

Trot, be mush ioy for heire.

And how ist with you sweet signior Pache.

Fat comme vou voyer.

Yong gentlemen? spirits of bloud, if euer youle tast of a sweet peece of mutton, do Onion a good turne now.

Que que, parla Mounseir, what ist.

Faith teach me one of these tricks.

O me shall doe presently, stand you deere, you signi­or deere, my selfe is here: so fort bein, now I parle to Moun­seir Onion, Onion pratla to you, you speaka to me, so, and as you parle chang the bonet, Mounseir Onion.

Mounseiur Finio.

Mounseur Pacue.

Pray be couera.

Nay I beseech you sir.

What do you meane.

Pardon moy, shall be so,

O God sir.

Not I in good faith sir.

By gar you must.

It shall be yours.

Nay then you wrong me,

Well and euer I come to be great.

You be big enough for de Onion already,

I meane a great man.

Then thou'dst be a monster.

Well God knowes not what fortune may doe, com­maund me, vse me from the soule to the crowne, and the crowne to the soule: meaning not onely from the crowne of the head, and the sole of the foot, but also the foote of the mind and the crownes of the purse, I cannot stay now yong gentle­men but — time was, time is, and time shall be.

Well I will vse no more. Gasper adiew.

Farewell my honored Lord.

Commend me to the Lady, my good Gasper.

I had remembred that had not you vrgd it.

Once more adiew sweet Gasper.

My good Lord.

Fellow Iuniper, no more of thy songs and sonets, sweet Iuniper, no more of thy hymnes and madrigals, thou sing'st, but I sigh.

Whats the matter Peter ha? what in an Academy still, still in sable, and costly black array? ha?

Prithee rise mount, mount sweet Iuniper, for I goe downe the wind, and yet I puffe: for I am vext.

Ha Bully? vext? what intoxicate? is thy braine in a [Page]quintescence? an Idea? a metamorphosis? an Apology? ha rogue? come this loue feeds vpon thee, I see by thy cheekes, and drinkes healthes of vermilion, teares I see by thine eyes.

I confesse Cupids carouse, he plaies super negulum with my liquor of life

Tut, thou art a goose to be Cupids gull, go to, no more of this contemplations, & calculations, mourne not, for Rachels thine owne

For that let the higher powers worke: but sweet Iuni­per, I am not sad for her, and yet for her in a second person, or [...]f not so yet in a third.

How second person? away, away, in the crotchets al­ready Longitude and Latitude? what second? what person? ha?

Iuniper, Ile bewray my selfe before thee, for thy com­pany is sweet vnto me, but I must entreat thy helping hand in the case.

Tut? no more of this surquedry; I am thine owne? ad vngem vpsie freeze: pell mell, come, what case? what case?

For the case it may be any mans case, aswell as mine, Rachel I meane, but Ile medle with her anon, in the meane time, [...]lentine is the man hath wrongd me.

How my Ingle wrong thee, ist possible?

Your Ingle, hang him infidell, well and if I be not re­uengd one him let Peter Onion (by the infernall Gods) be tur­ned to al eeke or a scalion, I spake to him for a ditty for this handkerchier.

Why, has he not done it?

Done it, not a verse by this hand.

O in dichus illis, O preposterous, wel come be blith, the [...]est iud [...] of the [...]l is somtimes dul, fellow Onion pardon mine Iugle: he is a man, has in pefections and declinations, as other men haue, his masse somtimes cannot carnet nor prognisticat and come of, as it should, no matter, Ile hammer our a para­l [...]rase for thee my selfe.

No sweet Iuniper, no danger [...] breed delay, loue [Page]makes me chollericke I can beare no longer.

Not beare? what my mad Meridian slaue? not be are? what?

Cupids burden: tis to heauy, to tollerable, and as for the handkerchire and the posie: I will not trouble thee: but if thou wilt goe with me into her fathers backside, old Iaques backside, and speake for me to Rachel, I wil not being ratitude, the old man is abroad and all.

Art thou sure on't.

As sure as an obligation.

Lets away then, come we spend time in a vaine cir­cumference, trade [...]cashire thee til to morrow, fellow Onion for thy sake I fini [...] this workiday.

God a mercy, and for thy sake Ile at any time make a holiday.

Nay I prithee Rachel, I come to comfort thee, Be not so sad.

And why sweet heart.

Nay leaue good signior.

Come I haue sweeter vyands yet in store.

I in any case mistres Rachel.

Rachel?

Gods pitty signior Angelo, I here my father, away for Gods sake.

S'bloud, I am betwixt, I thinke, this is twice now, I haue been serued thus.

Pray God he meet him not.

O braue? she's yonder, O terrible shee's gone.

Yea? so nimble in your Dilemma's, and your Hiperbole's Hay my loue? O my loue, at the first sight: By the masse.

O how she skudded, O sweet scud, how she tripped, O delicate trip and goe.

Come thou art enamored with the influence of her profundity, but sirrah harke a little.

O rare, what? what? passing Ifaith, what ist? what ist?

What wilt thou say now, if Rachel stand now, and play hity tity through the key hole, to behold the equipage of thy person:

O sweet equipage, try good Iuniper, tickle her, talke, talke, O? rare

Mistris Rachel (watch then if her father come) Rachel? Madona? Rachel? No.

Say I am here, Onion or Peter or so.

No, Ile knock, weele not stand vpon Horizons, and tricks, but fall roundly to the matter.

Well said sweet Iuniper: Horizons? hang hem? knock, knock.

Whose there? father.

Father no? and yet a father, if you please to be a mo­ther.

Well said Iuniper, to her againe, a smack or two more of the mother

Do you here? sweet soule, sweet radamant? sweet ma­thauell one word Melpomine? are you at leasure.

At leasure? what to doe?

To doe what, to doe nothing, but to be liable to the extasie of true loues exigent, or so, you smell my meaning.

Smell, filthy, fellow Iuniper filthy? smell? O most odi­ous.

How filthy.

Filthy, by this finger? smell? smell a rat, smel a pudding, away these tricks are for truls, a plaine wench loues plaine dealing, ile vpon my selfe, smel to march paine wench.

With all my heart, Ile be legitimate and silent as anap­ple-squire, Ile see nothing, and say nothing.

Sweet hart, sweet hart?

And bag pudding, ha, ha, ha?

What Rachel my girle what Rachel;

Gods lid▪

What Rachel,

Here I am

What rakehell cals Rachel: O treason to my loue.

Its her father on my life, how shall wee entrench and edifie our selues from him?

O conni-catching▪ Cupid.

I pray you sir.

A pitifull Onion, that thou hadst a rope.

Why Rachel: when I say: let loose my dog? garlique my mastiue, let him loose I say.

For Gods sake here me speake, keepe vp your cur.

I feare not garlique, heele not bite Onion his kins­man pray God he come out, and then theile not smell me.

well then deliuer, come deliuer slaue?

What should I deliuer?

O thou wouldst haue me tell thee? wouldst thou shew me thy hands, what hast thou in thy hands?

Here be my hands.

Stay are not thy fingers ends begrimd with durt, no thou hast wipt them.

Wipt them?

I thou villaine? thou art a subtile knaue, put off thy shewes, come I will see them, giue me a knife here Rachel, Ile rip the soles.

No matter he's a cobler, he can mend them.

What are you mad? are you detestable, would you make an Anatomy of me, thinke you I am not true Ortogra­phie?

Ortographie, Anatomy?

For Gods sake be not so inuiolable, I am no ambusca­do, what predicament call you this, why do you intimate so much.

I can feele nothing.

Bir Lady but Onion feeles something.

Soft sir, you are not yet gon, shake your legs, come, and your armes, be briefe, stay let me see these drums, these kil­derkins, these bombard slops, what is it crams hem so.

Nothing but haire.

Thats true, I had almost forgot this rug, this hedghogs nest, this hay mowe, this beares skin, this heath, this firsbush.

O let me goe, you teare my haire, you reluolue my [Page]braines and vnderstanding.

I am gone sir, I am gone, for Gods sake stay.

Pack, and thanke God thou scap'st so well away.

If I scape this tree, destinies, I defie you.

I mar'le he smels not Onion, being so neere it.

Fellow Onion? Peter.

Fellow Iuniper. What's the old panurgo gone? departed, cosmografied, ha?

O I, and harke Sirrah. Shall I tell him? no.

Nay, be briefe and declare, stand not vpon cono­drums now, thou knowest what contagious speeches I haue sufferd for thy sake and he should come againe and inuent me here.

What sayest thou sweete Onion?

And thou hadst smelt the sent of me when I was in the tree, thou wouldest not haue said so: but Sirra, The case is al­terd with me, my heart has giuen loue a box of the eare, made him kicke vp the heeles I faith.

Sayest thou me so, wad Greeke? how haps it? how chances it.

I cannot hold it, Iuniper, haue an eye, looke, haue an eye to the doore, the old prouerb's true, I see: gold is but mucke. Nay Gods so Iuniper to the doore, an eye to the maine chance, here you slaue, haue an eye.

O inexorable! ô infallible! ô infricate deuine, and superficiall fortune.

Nay, it will be sufficient anon, here, looke heere.

O insolent good lucke! How didst thou produce th'intelligence of the gold' mynerals.

S'bloud what shall we do with all this? we shall nere bring it to a consumption.

Consumption? why weele bee most sumptuously at­tir'd, man.

By this gold, I will haue three or foure most stigma­ticall suites presently.

Ile go in my foot-cloth, Ile turne Gentleman.

So will I.

But what badge shall we giue, what cullison?

As for that lets vse the infidelity and commiseration of some harrot of armes, he shall giue vs a gudgeon.

A gudgeon? a scutheon thou wouldst say, man.

A scutcheon or a gudgeon, all is one.

Well, our armes be good inough, lets looke to our legges.

Content, weele be iogging.

Rachel? we retire: garlike God boy ye.

Farewell sweete Iaques.

Farewell sweete Rachel, sweet dogge adiew.

Nay but sweet Count.

Before the Lord:

Sweet signior.

O my father.

Lady let your father thank your beauty.

O pardone moy mounsieur,

O Mounsieur, no point villaine, braue Cheualier, Mounsieur Gasper.

Mounsieur Gasper, on what occasion did they change their names, what was their policy, or their pretext.

Me canno tell, par ma foy Mounsieur.

My honorable Lord.

Tut tut, be silent.

So will not I.

By my fathers hand, but thou shalt Count, I say till this instant, I was neuer toucht in my reputation: here me you shall knowe that you haue wrongd me, and I will make you ac­knowledge it, if I cannot my sword shall.

Tis well, proceed then.

Then Maximilian tooke you for Chamount.

True noble Lord.

Lye?

I, I dare pawne my soule he will returne.

Nay, thou shalt want no torture, so resolue, bring him away.

But in good sadnesse Signior, do you thinke Cha­mount will returne?

Do I see your face, Lady?

I sure, if loue haue not blinded you.

That is a question, but I will assure you no, I can see, and yet loue is in mine eye: well, the Count your father simply hath dishonor'd me: and this steele shall engraue it on his burgonet.

Nay, sweet Signior.

Loue her?

He has.

Heere Signior Angelo.

Tust, let me alone.

First ile play the ghost, Ile cal him out, Kit keep aloofe.

But Signior Angelo. Where wil your selfe and Rachel stay for me, after the iest is ended?

Masse, that's true, at the old Priory behinde S. Foyes.

Agreed, no better place, ile meete you there.

Who cals? whose there?

Iaques.

Who cals?

Steward, he comes, he comes Iaques.

Iaques.

Iaques.

What Rachel, Rachel, lock my doore, looke to my house.

Iaques.

Shut fast my doore, a golden crowne, Iaques shall be a king.

What means my father, I wonder what strange humor.

Come sweete soule, leaue wondring, start not, twas I laid this plot to get thy father forth.

O Angelo.

O Angelo, each minute is a day till my Ferneze come, come weele away sir.

O God, the case is alterd.

Rachel?

Signior Angelo?

What gold?

Page hold my rapier, while I hold my freind here.

O heer's a sweet metamorphosis, a cupple of buz­zards turn'd to a paire of peacocks.

Signior Onion, lend me thy boy to vnhang my rapier. On. Signior Iuniper for once or so, but troth is, you must inuei­gle, as I haue done, my Lords page here a poor folower of mine.

Hei ho, your page then sha'not be super intendent vpon me? he shall not be addicted? he shall not be incident? he shall not be incident? he shall not be incident, shall he?

Nay good Maister. Onion.

Nay and he haue the heart to draw my bloud, let him come.

Ile slice you Onion, Ile slice you?

Ile cleaue you Iuniper.

Why hold, hold, hough? what do you meane?

Let him come Ingle, stand by boy, his allebaster blad [Page]cannot feare me.

Why heare you sweet signior, let not there be any contētion, betweene my Maister & you, about me, if you want a page sir, I can helpe you to a proper stripling.

Canst thou? what parentage? what ancestry? what ge­nealogy is he?

A french boy sir.

Has he his French linguist? has he?

I, sir.

Then transport him: her's a crusado for thee.

You will not, imbecell my seruant with your bene­uolence will you, hold boy their's a portmantu for thee.

Lord sir.

Do take it boy, its three pounds ten shill. a portmantu.

I thanke your Lordship.

Of what sir?

Of what thou wilt. Sbloud? hang sorrow?

Prithy Valentine assoile me one thing.

Tis pitty to soile you sir, your new apparell.

Masse thou saist true, aparel makes a man forget himself.

Begin, find your tongue Ningle.

Where? where? Finio, where be they.

Go to, ile be with you anon.

O her's the page signior Iuniper:

What sayth monsier Onion, boy.

What say you sir.

Tread out boy.

Take vp, you meane sir.

Tread out I say, so, I thanke you, is this the boy.

Aue mounsieur.

Who gaue you that name.

Giue me de name, vat name:

He thought your name had been, we yong gentle­men, you must do more then his legges can do for him, beare with him sir.

Sirrah giue me instance of your carriage? youle serue my turne, will you?

What? turne vpon the toe.

O signior no.

Page will you follow me, ile giue you good exhibition.

By gar, shal not alone follow you, but shal leade you to.

Plaguie boy, he sooths his humour? these french vil­laines ha pockie wits.

Here? disarme me? take my semitary.

O rare, this would be a rare man, and he had a little trauell, Balthasar, Martino, put off your shooes, and bid him coble them.

Freinds, friends, but pardon me for fellows, no more in occupation, no more in corporation, tis so pardon me, the case is alterd, this is law, but ile stand to nothing.

Fat so me tinke.

Well then God saue the dukes Maiesty, is this any harme now? speake, is this any harme now.

No nor good neither, Sbloud?

Do you laugh at me? do you laugh at me? do you laugh at me?

I sir, we do.

You do indeed?

I indeed sir.

Tis sufficient, Page carry my purse, dog me?

Gentlemen leaue him not, you see in what case he is, he is not in aduersity, his purse is full of money, leaue him not?

Nay gentle Rachel?

Stay noble sir▪

Do you heare? what needs all this? say, will you haue me, or no?

Il'e haue you gone, and leaue me, if you would.

I Angelo.

You scornefull baggage, I lou'd thee not so much, but now I hate thee.

What againe returnd vnto this violent passion.

Do but heare me, by heauen I loue you Rachel.

Pray forbeare, ô that my Lord Ferneze were but here.

Sbloud and he were, what would he do.

This would he do base villaine.

My deere Lord,

My noble Ferneze.

My honorable Lord.

Nay good my Lord, giue end vnto your passions.

You shall see, I will redeeme your lost opinion.

My Lord beleeue him.

Come signior Angelo, hereafter proue more true.

O resolute and peremptory wretch!

My honored Lord, let vs intreat a word.

Who would haue thought you could haue beene so carelesse to loose your onely daughter.

O my sonne, my sonne.

My deerest Rachel?

My most hony gold.

Heare me Christophero.

Nay heare me Iaques.

Heare me most honor'd Lord.

What rule is here?

O God that we should let Chamount escape.

I and that Rachel, such a vertuous mayd, should be thus stolne away.

And that my gold, being so hid in earth, should bee found out.

O confusion of languages, & yet no tower of Babel!

Ladies, beshrew me, if you come not fit to make a ian­gling consort, will you laugh to see three constant passions.

Stand by, I will vrge them, sweet Count, will you be comforted.

Steward, go cheere my Lord:

Well, if Rachel tooke her flight willingly?

Sirrah, speake you touching your daughters flight?

O that I could so soone forget to know the thiefe a­gaine, that had my gold, my gold.

Is not this pure▪

My Lord Chamount?

My Gasper.

Rachel.

My gold Rachel? my gold?

Some body bid the begger cease his noise.

I faith she is not for you steward.

I beseech you maddam vrge your father.

I will anon? good Iaques be content.

Me thinks my heart's in heauen with this comfort.

My most noble Lord? I do beseech your Lordship.

O the same night, wherein your noble father tooke the towne.

How long's that since my Lord? can you remember.

Tis now well nie vpon the twentith yeare.

And how old was he then?

I cannot tel, betweene the yeares of three and soure, I take it.

How did you call your sonne my Lord?

Camillo Lord Chamount.

O happy reuelation? ô blest hower? ô my Camillo.

O strange my brother.

Maximilion? behold how the aboundance of his ioy Drownds him in teares of gladnesse.

O my boy? forgiue thy fathers late austerity:

My Lord? I deliuered as much before, but your ho­nour would not be perswaded, I will heareafter giue more ob­seruance to my visions? I drempt of this.

Why whats the matter Iaques.

More wonders yet.

How Iaques is not Rachel then thy daughter.

No, I disclaime in her, I spit at her,