SCE. PRIMA.

WHy how now? are yee mad? or drunke? or both? or what?

Are yee building Babilon there?

Heer's a noyse in Court▪ you thinke you are in a Tauerne, do you not?

You thinke you are in a bro [...]hell house doe you not? This roome is ill sented.

So; perfume; perfume; some vpon me I pray thee: The Duke is vpon instant entrance; so, make place there.

SCENA SECVNDA.

Where breath's that Musique?

The discord rather then the Musique is heard from the Malcontent Maleuoles [...] [...]

Maleuole.

Out of his Chamber. Yaugh, godaman what do'st thou there: Dukes Ganimed Iunces iealous of thy long stockings: shadow of a woman, what wouldst Weesell? thou lambe a Court: what doost thou bleat for? a you smooth chind Ca [...]amite.

Come downe thou rugged Cur, and snarle here, I giue thy dogged sullennesse free liberty: trot about and be-spurtle whom thou pleasest.

Ile come among you, you Gotish bloudded Toderers, as Gum into Taffata, to fret, to fret: Ile fall like a spunge into water to suck vp; to suck vp. Howle againe. Ile pray, and come to you.

This Maleuole is one of the most prodigious af­fections that euer conuerst with nature; A man or rather a monster; more discontent then Lucifer when he was thrust out of the presence, his appetite is vnsatiable as the Graue; as farre from any content as from heauen, his highest de­light is to procure others vexation, and therein hee thinkes he truly se [...]ues heauen; for tis his position, whosoeuer in this [...]arth can be contented is a slaue and dam'd; therefore do's he afflict all in that to which they are most affected; the Elements struggle within him; his owne soule is at vari­ence; his speach is halter-worthy at all howers; I like him faith, he giues good intelligence to my spirit, makes me vn­derstand those weaknesses which others flattery palliate: harke they sing.

SCENA TERTIA.

See he comes; now shall you heare the extremity of a Malecontent: he is as free as ayre; he blowes ouer euery man. And sir whence come you now?

From the publick place of much dissimulation;

What didst there?

Talke with a Vsurer; take vp at Intetest.

I wonder what religion thou art?

Of a Souldiers religion.

And what doost thou thinke makes most Infidels now?

Sects, sects, I haue seene seeming Piety change her roabe so oft, that sure none but some arch-diuell can shape her a new Peticote.

Of a religious pollicie.

But damnation on a politique religion.

But whats the common newes abroade Maleuole, thou dogst rumor still.

Common newes? why common words are, God saue yee, Fare yee well: common actions, Flattery and Co­senage: common things, Women and Cuckolds: and how do's my little Ferrard: a yee lecherous Animall, my little Ferret, he goes sucking vp & downe the Pallace into euery Hens nest like a Weesell: & to what doost thou addict thy time to now, more then to those Antique painted drabs that are stil affected of young Courtiers, Flattery, Pride & Ven [...]ry.

I study languages: who doost thinke to be the best linguist of our age?

Phew, the Diuell let him possesse thee, heele teach thee to speake all languages, most readily and strangely, and great reason mary, hees traueld greatly ithe worlde; and is euery where.

Saue ith Court.

I saue ith Court: and how do's my old Muckill ouerspred with fresh snow▪ thou halfe a mā halfe a Goate,To Bilios [...]. all a Beast: how do's thy young wife old huddle?

Out you improuident rascall.

Doe, kick thou hugely hornd olde Dukes Oxe, good Maister Make-pleece.

How doost thou liue now a dayes Maleuole?

Why like the Knight S. Patrik Penlobrans, with killing a Spiders for my Ladies Munckey.

How do'st spend the night, I heere thou neuer sleepst?

O no, but dreame the most fantasticall: O heauen: O fubbery, fubbery.

Dreame, what dreamst?

Why me thinkes I see that Signior pawnd his foot­cloth, that Metreza her Plate, this madam takes phisick, that tother Mounsieur may minister to her: here is a Pandar Iew­eld: there a fellow in shift of Satten this day, that could not shift a shirt tother night, here a Paris supports that Hellen, [Page] theres a Lady Guineuer beares vp that sir Lancelot. Dreames, dreames, visions, fantasies, Chimeras, imaginations, trickes, conceites, To Pre­pass [...]. Sir Tristram Trimtram come a loft lacke a napes with a whim wham, heres a Knight of the land of Catito shall play at trap with any Page in Europe; Doe the sword daunce, with any Morris▪dauncer in Christendome; ride at the Ring till the finne of his eyes looke as blew as the welkin, and runne the wilde-goose chase euen with Pompey the huge.

You runne.

To the diuell: now Signor Guerchino; that thou from a most pittied prisoner shouldst grow a most loathd flatterer: Alas poore Celso, thy starres opprest, thou art an ho­nest Lord, tis pitty.

Ist pitty?

I marry ist Philosophicall Equato, and tis pitty that thou being so excellent a Scholler by Art, shouldst be so ri­culous a foole by Nature: I haue a thing to tell you Duke; bid vm auant, bid vm auant.

Leaue vs, leaue vs, now sir what ist?

Duke thou art a Beco, a Corn [...]to.

How?

Thou art a Cuckold.

Speake; vnshale him quick.

With most tumbler-like nimblenes.

Who? by whom? I burst with desire.

Mendozo is the man makes thee a horn'd beast; Duke 'tis Mendozo cornutes thee.

What conformance, relate, short, short.

As a Lawyers beard,

Blirt a rime; blirt a rime; Maquerelle is a cunning Bawde, I am an honest villaine, thy wife is a close Drab, and thou art a notorious Cuckold, farewell Duke.

Stay▪ stay.

Dull, dull Duke, can lazy patience make lame re­uenge; O God for a woman to make a man that which God neuer created, neuer made.

What did God neuer make?

A Cockold: To be made a thing thats hud-winkt with kindnesse whilst euery rascall philips his browes; to haue a Cox-combe with egregious hornes pind to a Lords back, euery page sporting himselfe with delightfull laugh­ter, whilst he must be the last must know it; Pistols and Po­niards, Pistols and Poinards.

Death and damnation.

Lightning and thunder.

Vengeance and torture.

Catzo.

O reuenge.

I would dam him and all his generation, my owne hands should do it; ha I would not trust heauen with my vengeance any thing.

Any thing, any thing Maleuole thou shalt see in­stantly what temper my spirit houlds; farewell, remember, I forget thee not, farewell.

SCENA QVARTA.

My honor'd Lord.

Ile still adhere, lets mutinie and die.

Why man we are all philosophicall monarkes or naturall fooles, Celso the Courtes a [...]ar, the dutches sheets will smoke forth ere it be long: Impure Mendozo that sharpe nos'd Lord, that made the cursed match linkt Genoa with Florence now brode hornes, the Duke which he now knowes: Dis­cord to malecontents is very Manna, when the rankes are burst▪ then scuffle Altophant.

I but durste.

Tis gone, tis swallowed like a minerall, some way twill worke, phewt ile not shrinke,

Hees resolute who can no lower sinke.

Yonder's Mendoza.

True, the priuie key.

I take my leaue sweete Lord.

Tis fit, away.

SCENA QVINTA.

Leaue your suites with me, I can and will: attend my secretarie, leaue me.

Mendoza harke yee, harke yee, You are a treache­rous villaine, God buye yee.

Out you base borne rascall.

We are all the sonnes of heauen though a Tripe wife were our mother; a you whore-sonne hot rainde hee Marmoset, Egistus didst euer here of one Egistus?

Gistus?

I Egistus, he was a filthy incontinent Fleshmonger, such a one as thou art.

Out grumbling roage.

Orestes, beware Orestes.

Out beggar.

I once shall rise,

Thou rise?

Now good Elizium, what a delicious heauen is it for a mā to be in a Princes fauour? ô sweet God, ô pleasure! ô Fottune! ô all thou best of life? what should I thinke? what say? what do? to be a fauorite? a minion? to haue a generall timerous respect▪ obserue a man, a statefull sci­lence in his presence: solitarinesse in his absence, a con­fused ham and busie murmure of obsequious suters trai­ning him; the cloth held vp, and waye proclaimd before him; Petitionarie vassailes licking the pauement with their slauish knees, whilst some odde pallace Lampree­les that ingender with Snakes, and are full of eyes on both sides with a kinde of insinuating humblenesse fixe all their lights vpon his browe: O blessed state what a [Page] rauishing prospect doth the Olympus of fauor yeeld; Death, I cornute the Duke: sweete women, most sweet Ladies, nay Angels; by heauen he is more accursed then a Diuell that hates you, or is hated by you, and happier then a God that loues you, or is beloued by you; you preseruers of mankind, life blood of society, who would liue, nay who can liue without you? O Paradice, how maiesticall is your austerer presence? how imperiouslie chaste is your more modest face? but O! how full of rauishing attraction is your pretty, petulant, languishing, laciuiously-composed countenance: these amarous smiles, those soule-warming sparkling glan­ces; ardent as those flames that sing'd the world by heedlesse Phaeton; in body how delicate, in soule how witty, in dis­course how pregnant, in life how wary, in fauours how iu­d [...]ious, in day how sociable, and in night how? O pleasure vn [...]tterable, indeed it is most certaine, one man cannot de­serue onely to inioy a beautious woman: but a Dutches? in dispight of Phoebus Ile write a Sonnet instantly in praise of her.

SCENA SEXTA.

And ist possible? Mendozo slight me, possible?

To speake feelingly, more, more richely in sollid sence then worthlesse words, giue me those Iewels of your eares to receiue my inforced dutie, as for my part tis well knowne I can put vp any thing; can beare patiently with any man: But when I heard hee wronged your pretious sweetnesse, I was inforced to take deepe offence; Tis most certaine he loues Emillia with high appetite; and as she told [Page] me (as you knowe we woemen impart our secrets one to a­nother) when she repulsed his suite, in that he was possessed with your indeered grace: Mendozo most ingratfully re­nounced all fayth to you.

Nay, cald you, speake Maquerelle, speake.

By heauen witch? dride bisquet, and contested blushlesly hee lou'd you but for a spurt or soe.

For maintenance.

Aduancement and regarde.

O villaine? O impudent Mendozo.

Nay he is the rustiest iawde, the fowlest mouthd knaue in rayling against our sex: he will rayle agen women.

How? how?

I am asham'd to speakt, I.

I loue to hate him, speake.

Why when Emillia scornde his base vnsteddines the blacke throated rascall scoulded, and sedd.

What?

Troth tis too shamelesse,

What saide he?

Why that at foure women were fooles, at foure­teene Drabbes, at fortie Bawdes, at fourescore witches, and a hundreth Cats.

O vnlimitable impudencie!

A hotte simile.

Reasonable perfect bir-lady.

Visit her chamber, but conditionally you shall not offend her bed: by this Diamond.

By this Diamond.

Nortary longer then you please: by this Ruby.

By this Ruby.

And that the doore shall not creake.

And that the doore shall not creake.

Nay but sweare.

By this purse.

Goe to, Ile keepe your oathes for you: remem­ber, visit.

Dry'd bisquet? looke where the base wretch comes.

Beauties life, Heauens modell, Loues Queene.

Thats his Aemilia.

Natures triumph, best of Earth.

Meaning Emillia.

Thou onely wonder that the world hath seene.

Thats Emilia.

Must I then here her praisd? Mendozo.

Madam, your excellency is gratiously incountred; I haue bin writing passionate flashes in honor of—

Out villaine, villaine, O iudgement where haue bin my eies? what bewitched election made me doate on thee? what sorcery made me loue thee? but be gone, bury thy head; O that I could doe more then loath thee: Hence worst of ill, No reason else, my reason is my will.

Women? nay furies, nay worse, for they torment Onely the bad, but women good and bad.

Damnation of mankinde, breath hast thou praisd them for this: And ist you Ferneze are wrigled into smock grace; fit [Page] sure, O that I could raile against these monsters in nature, models of hell, curse of the earth, women that dare attempt any thing, and what they attempt they care not how they accomplish, without all premeditation or preuention; rashe in asking, desperate in working, impatient in suffering, ex­treame in desiring, slaues vnto appetite, mistresses in dissem­bling, onely constant in vnconstancie, onely perfect in coū ­terfetting: their words are fained, their eyes forg'd, their sights dissembled, their lookes counterfeit, their haire false, their giuen hopes deceitfull, their very breath artificiall:

Their blood is their onely God: Bad clothes, and old age are onely the Diuels they tremble at:

That I could raile now.

SCENA SEPTIMA.

A mischiefe fill thy throate, thou fowle iaw'd slaue [...] Say thy prayers.

I ha forgot vm.

Thou shalt dye.

So shalt thou; I am hart mad.

I am horne mad.

Extreame mad.

Monstrously mad.

Why?

Why? thou thou hast dishonored my bed.

I? come, come, sit, heeres my bare heart to thee as steddy as is this center to this glorious world,

And yet harke thou art a Cornuto; but by me?

Yes slaue by thee.

Mendozo, I may erre.

Mendozo thou knowst I am a most plaine brested mā.

The fitter to make a Cornuto, would your browes were most plane to.

Tell me, indeed I heard thee raile?

Hart, I hate all women for't: sweete sheetes, waxe lights, Antique bed-posts, Cambrick smocks, villanous curtaines, Arras pictures, oylde hinges, and all yee tong-tide lasciuious witnesses of great creatures wantonnesse: what saluation can you expect?

Wilt thou tell me?

Why you may find it your selfe, obserue, obserue.

I ha not the patience, wilt thou deserue me; tell, giue it.

Tak't, why Farneze is the man, Ferneze, Ile proou't, this night you shall take him, in your sheets, wilt serue.

It will, my bozomes in some peace, till night.

What?

Farewell.

Why?

Who cannot faine friendship, can nere produce the effects of hatred: Honest foole Duke, subtile lasciuious Dutches, silly nouice ferneze; I doe laugh at yee, my braine is in labour till it produce mischiefe, & I feele sudden thro's, proofes sencible, the issue is at hand.

SCE. PRIMA.

SCENA SECVNDA.

Blesse ye cast a Ladies; ha Dipsas, how doost thou old Cole.

Olde Cole?

I old Cole, me thinkes thou liest like a brand vnder these billets of greene wood.

He that will inflame a yonge wenches hart, let him lay close to her, an ould Cole that hath first bin fierd a pandresse, my halfe burnt lynt, who though thou canst not flame thy selfe yet art able to set a 1000. virgins tapers a fiar: and how do's Ianiuere thy husband, my little periwincle: is a trobled with the cough a the Lunges still, does he hawke anights still, he will not bite.

No by my troth, I tooke him with his mouth emp­tie of ould teeth.

And hē tooke thee with thy belly ful of yong bones, marry he tooke his maime by the stroake of his enemie.

And I myne by the stroake of my freinde:

The close stock, ô mortall wench: Ladie ha ye now no restoratiues for your decayed Iason, looke yee, Crabs guts bak't, distil'd Oxe-pith, the puluerized haires of a Lyons vp­per lip, gelly of Cock-sparrowes, Hee Monkeis marrow, or powder of Foxe-stones; and whither are all you ambling now?

Why to bed, to bed.

Doe your husbands lye with yee?

That were countrey fashion yfaith.

Ha yee no foregoers about you; come, whither in good deed law now?

In good indeed law now, to eate the most mira­culously, admirably, astonishable compos'd Posset with three Curds, without any drinke: will yee helpe me with a Hee Fox: heer's the Duke.

SCENA TERTIA.

The night growes deepe and fowle, what houre ist?

Vpon the stroake of twelue.

Saue yee Duke.

From thee, begone I do not loue thee, let me see thee no more, we are displeasd.

Be gone sirra.

When Arthur first in Court began,—Agamennon, Menelaus,—was euer any Duke a Cornuto,

Begon hence.

What religion wilt thou be of next?

Out with him.

It shall be so.

You shalbe leauged with the Dutches.

The plot is very good.

You shall both kill, and seeme the course to saue.

A most fine braine trick.

Of a most cunning knaue.

Much.

SCENA QVARTA.

Without any drinke.

Vpon my honour, will yee sit and eate.

Good the composure the recei [...]e, how ist:

Tis a pretty pearle, by this pearle, (how dost with me) thus it is, seauen and thirty vo [...]lks of Barbarie hennes eggs, eighteene spoonfulles and a halfe of the Ioice of cock­sparrowe bon s, one ounce, three drams, [...]oure scruples, and one quarte [...] of the Sirrop of Ethiopian Dates, sweetned with three quarters of a pound of pure Candid Indian [...], strow'd ouer with the powder of Pearle of America, Amber of Cataia, and Lambe stones of [...].

Trust me the ingredients are very Cordiall, and no question go [...]d, and most powerfull in operation.

I know not what you meane by restauracion, but this it doth, it purifieth the blood, smootheth the skinne, i [...] ­lifeneth the eye, strengthneth the vaines▪ mundefieth the teeth, comforteth the stomacke, fortifieth the backe, and quickneth the wi [...], thats all.

By my troth I haue eaten but two spoonefuls, and me thinkes I could discourse most swiftly, and wittily al­ready.

Haue you the art to seeme honest.

I thanke aduise and practise.

Why then eate me a this posset, quicken your blood, and preserue your beauty, doe you knowe Doctor Plaster-face, by this curd he is the most exquisite in forging of veines, sprightning of eyes, dying of haire, sleeking of skinnes, blushing of cheeks, surpheling of brests, blanching and bleaching of teeth, that euer made an ould ladie grati­ous by torch-light: by this curd law.

Well we are resolu'd, what God has giuen vs weell cherish.

Cherish any thing sauing your husband, keepe him not too high least he leape the pale: but for your beauty, let it be your Saint, bequeath two howers to it euery morning in your closet, I ha bin yong, and yet in my conscience I am not aboue fiue and twenty, but beleeue me, preserue and vse your beauty, for youth and beautie once gone, we are like Beehiues without honey: out a fashion, apparell that no man will weare, therefore vse me your beauty.

I but men say.

Men say, let men say what the will, life a woman, they are ignorant of our wants, the more in yeeres the more in perfection the grow: if they loose youth and beauty, they gaine wisdome and discretion: But when our beauty fades, godnight with vs, there cannot be an vglier thing to see then an ould woman, from which, ô pruning, pinching, and painting, deliuer all sweete beauties.

Harke musique.

Peace tis ithe Dutches bed-chamber, good rest most prosperously grac'd ladies.

God night centinell.

Night deere Maquerelle.

SCENA QVINTA.

Strike, strike.Tumult vvithin.

Saue my Ferneze, ô saue my Ferneze.

Follow, pershew.

O saue Ferneze.

Follow, follow,

Stand off, forbeare, yee most vnciuill Lords.Mendozo bestrids the vvounded body of Fer­neze and seemes to saue him.

Strike.

O poore Ferneze.

Alas now all defence too late.

Hee's dead.

What weepe for thee? my soule no teares shall find.

Alas, alas, that womens soules are blind.

Not.

Not: the best of rest, good night.

Despight goe with thee.

I thinke I haue.

Do you but thinke so?

Pardon me, I did.

Did you, and therevpon you graced him?

I did.

Tooke him to fauour, nay euen claspd with him?

Alas I did.

This night?

This night.

And in your lustfull twines the Duke tooke you?

A most sad truth.

Come I did erre, and am most sorry, I did erre.

Why we are both but dead, the Duke hates vs,

Shall we murder him.

Instantly?

I would do much for you, will ye marry me?

God arrest thee.

At whose suite?

P [...]ethee lets be acquainted, I do loue thee faith.

At your seruice, by the Lord law, shals go to supper, Lets be once drunke together▪ and so vnite a most vertu­ously strengt [...]ned friendship, shals H [...]gonot, shals?

Wilt [...]ll vpon my chamber to morrow morne.

As a Rauen to a dunghill, they say ther's one dead here p [...]ickt for the pride of the flesh.

Fernez: there he is, prey thee bury him.

O most willingly, I meane to turne pure Rochell Churchman, I.

Thou Churchman, why? why?

Because ile liue lazely, faile vpon authoritie, deny Kings supremacie in things indifferent, and bee a Pope in mine owne parish.

Wherefore doo'st thou thinke Churches were made?

To scoure Plough shar [...] [...] [...] [...] plough vp Altars:

Strange.

Nay monstrous, I ha seene a sumptuous steeple tur­ned to a stinking priuie: more beastly, the sacredst place made a Doggs kenill: nay most inhumane, the ston'd cof­fins of long dead Christians burst vp, and made Hogs­troughs.

Shall I ha some sack, and cheese at thy chamber, Good night, good mischiuous incarnate diuill, godnight Mendozo, ha, yee Inhumain villaine godnight, night fub:

God night: to morrow morne.

I, I will come friendly Damnation, I will come, I doe discrie crosse-poynts, honesty, and court-ship, straddle as farre a sunder, as a true Frenchmans legges.

O!

Proclamations, more proclamations.

O a Surgion.

Hark lust cries for a surgion, what news from Limbe How does the graund cuckold Lucifer.

O helpe, helpe, conceale & saue me.

SCENA PRIMA.

Would yee could be merry.

My Lord, I haue some bookes which haue beene dedicated to my honor, and I neare read am, and yet they had very fine names: Phisicke for Fortune: Lozinges of sancti­fied sincerity; very prettie workes of Curats, Scriueners and Schoolemaisters. Mary I remember one Seneca, Lucius A­neus Seneca.

Out vpon him, he writ of Temperance and Forti­tude, yet liued like a voluptuous Epicure, and died like an effeminate coward. Hast thee to Florence: heere take our Letters, see um seald, awaye: report in priuate to the ho­nourd duke his daughters forc'd disgrace, tell him at length we know too much, due complaints aduaunce.

Theres naught thats safe and sweete but Ignorance.

SCENA SECVNDA.

Mal uole.

Elder of Izrael, thou honest defect of wicked na­ture and obstinate ignorance, when did thy wife let thee lie with her?

I am going Embassadour to Florence.

Embassador, now for thy countries honor, preethe doe not put vp Mutton and Porredge i'thy clock bag: thy yong lady wife goes to Florence with thee too do's she not?

No, I leaue her at the Pallace.

At the Pallace? now discretion shield man, for Gods loue lets ha no more cuckolds, Hymen begins to put of his Saffron robe, keepe thy wife i'the state of grace, hart a truth, I would sooner leaue my lady singled in a Bordello, then in the Genoa pallace, sinne there appearing in her sluttish shape Would soone grow loath some, euen to blushes sence,

Soft rest, sweete Musick, amorous Masquerers, lasciuious banquets, sinne it selfe gilt ore, strong phantasie tricking vp strange delights, presenting it dressed pleasingly to sence, sence leading it vnto the soule, confirmed with potent ex­ample, impudent custome intic'd by that great bawd op­portunitie, thus being prepar'd, clap to her easie eare, youth in good clothes, well shapt, rich, faire spoken, promi­sing noble, ardent bloud-full, wittie, flattering, Vlisses absent, O Ith [...] can chastest Penelope hold out.

Masse ile thinke on't farewell.

SCENA TERTIA.

My honour'd Lord.

Celso peace, how ist? speake loe, pale feares suspect that hedges, walls & trees haue eares, speake how runs all?

Is Ferneze interred?

Of that at leisure: he liues.

But how stands Mendoza, how ist with him?

Faith like a paire of Snuffers, s [...]ibbes filth in other men, and retaines it in himselfe.

He do's flie frō publique notice me thinks, as a Haire do's from hounds, the feet wheron he flies betraies him.

Hees here.

Giue place.

Illo, ho ho ho, art there old true peny,

Where hast thou spent thy selfe this morning? I see flattery in thine eyes, & damnation i'thy soule. Ha ye huge Rascal.

Thou art very merry.

As a scholler futuens gratis: How doz the deuill go with thee now.

Maleuole, thou art an arrant knaue.

Who I? I haue beene a Sergeant man.

Thou art very poore.

As Iob, an Alcumist, or a Poet.

The Duke hates thee.

As Irishmen do bum-cracks.

Thou hast lost his amitie.

As pleasing as Maids loose their virginitie.

Would thou wert of a lustie spirit, would thou wert noble.

Why sure my bloud giues me I am noble, sure I am of noble kinde, for I finde my selfe possessed with all their qualities: loue Dogs, Dice and Drabs▪ scorne witte in stuffe clothes, haue beate my Shoomaker, knockt my Sempstres, cuckold my Pottecary, and vndone my Taylor.

Noble, why not? since the Stoick said; Neminem ser [...]m non [Page] ex regibus, neminem regem non ex seruis esse oriundum, only bu­sie fortune towses, and the prouident chaunces blends them together; Ile giue you a symilie: did you ere see a Well with 2. buckets, whilst one comes vp full to be emptied, another goes downe emptie to be filled; such is the state of all hu­manitie: why looke you, I may be the sonne of some Duke, for beleeue me intemperate lasciuious bastardie makes no­bility doubtfull, I haue a lusty daring hart Mendoza.

Lets graspe? I doe like thee infinitely, wilt inact one thing for me?

Shall I get by it?

Commaund me, I am thy slaue, beyond death and hell.

Murther the Duke?

My harts wish, my soules desire, my fantasies dream, My blouds longing, the only haight of my hopes, how? O God how? O how my vnited spirits throng together, So strengthen my resolue.

The Duke is now a hunting.

Excellent, admirable, as the diuell would haue it, lend me, lend me, Rapier Pistol, Crosebow: so, so, ile do it.

Then we agree.

As Lent and Fishmongers, come a cape ape, how in forme?

Know that this weake braind duke, who only stands on Florence stilts, hath out of witlesse zeale made me his heire, and secretly confirmed the wreathe to me after his lifes full point.

Vpon what merit?

Merit? by heauen I horne him, onely Fernezies death gaue me states life: tut we are politique, he must not liue now.

No reason marry: but how must he dye now.

My vtmost proiect is to murder the Duke, that I might haue his state, because he makes me his heire: to ba­nish the Duches, that I might be rid of a cūning Lacedemo­nian, because I know Florence will forsake her, & then to ma­rie Maria the banished duke Altofronts wife, that her friends might strengthen me and my faction, this is all lawe.

Doe you loue Maria.

Faith noe great affection, but as wise men do loue great wemen to in [...]oble their bloud and augment their re­uenew: to accomplish this now, thus now. The Duke is in the forest next the Sea, single him▪ kill him, hurle him i'the maine, and proclaime thou sawst Woolues eate him.

Vm, not so good, me thinkes when he is slayne to get some Ipocrite, some daungerous wretch thats muffled, or with fayned holines to sweare he hard the Duke on some steepe cliffe lament his wifes dishonor, and in an agony of his hearts torture hurled his groning sides into the swolne sea, this circumstance well made, soundes probable, and hereupon the Dutches.

May well be banished: ô vnpeerable inuension, rare, Thou God of pollicie! it hunnies me.

Then feare not for the wife of Altofront, ile close to her.

Thou shalt, thou shalt, our excellencie is pleased: why wert not thou an Emperour, when wee are Duke ile make thee some great man sure?

Nay make me some ritch knaue, and Ile make my selfe some great man.

In thee be all my spirit, retaine ten soules, vnite thy vertuall powers, resolue, ha, remember greatnesse, hart farewell.

The fate of all my hopes in thee doth dwell.

SCENA QVARTA.

The Dogges are at a fault.

Would God nothing but the dogs were at it? let the Deare persue safely, the Dogs follow the game, and do [Page] you follow the dogges, as for me, tis vnfit one beast should hunt another; I ha one chaseth me: and please you I would be rid of yee a little.

Would your griefe would as soone as wee, leaue you to quietnesse.

I thanke you: Boy; what dost thou dreame of now?

Of a drie summer my Lord for heer's a h [...]e world towards: but my Lord I had a strange dreame last [...]ight.

What strange dreame?

Why me thought I pleased you with singing, and then I dreamt you gaue me that short sword.

Prettily begd: hold thee, ile prooue thy dreame true, tak't.

My dutie: But stiil I dreamt on my Lord, and me thought and shall please your excellencie, you would needs out of your royall bountie giue me that iewell in your Hat.

O thou didst but dreame boye, doe not beleeue it, dreames prooue not alwayes true, they may hold in a shorte sworde, but not in a Iewell. But now sir you dream [...] you had pleasd me with singing, make that true as I ha made the other.

Faith my Lorde I did but dreame, and dreames you say prooue not alwayes true: they may hold in a good sworde, but not in a good song: the truth is, I ha lost my voyce.

Lost thy voyce, how?

With dreaming faith but here's a couple of Syre­nicall rascal [...] shall inchaunt yee: What shall they singe my good Lorde?

Sing of the nature of women, and then the song shall be su [...]ely full of varietie, olde crochets and most sweet closes; it shall be humerous, graue, fantastick, amorous, me­lancholy, sprightly, one in all, and all in one.

All in on?

Bir Lady too many sing, my speech growes culpa­ble of vnthriftie idlenesse, sing.

SCENA QVINTA.

A, so. so, sing, I am heauie, walke of, I shall talke in my sleepe walke of.

Briefe, briefe, who? the Duke? good heauen that fooles should stumble vpon greatnesse? do not sleepe duke, giue yee good morrow: must be briefe Duke. I am feed to murther thee, start not; Mendozo, Mendozo hired me, h [...]r's his gold, his Pistoll, Crosbowe, Sword, tis all as firme as earth: O foole, foole, choakt with the common maze of easie Ideots, credulity make him thine heire, what thy sworne murderer?

O can it be?

Can?

Discouered he not Ferneze?

Yes, but why? but why? for loue to thee, much, much, to be reueng'd vpon his riuall, who had thrust his iawes awrye, who being slaine supposed by thine owne hands; defended by his sword, made thee most loathsome, him most gratious, with thy loose Princes, thou closely yeelding egresse and regresse to hir, madest him heire, whose hot vnquiet lust straight towzd thy sheetes, and now would seaze thy state, polititian, wise man, death to be led to the stake, like a Bull by the hornes to make euen kindnes cut a gentle throate, life, why art thou numb'd: Thou fog­gie dulnesse speake? liues not more faith in a home thrust­ing tongue, then in these fencing tip tap Courtiers.

Lord Maleuole, if this be true

If? come shade thee with this disguise, if? thou shalt handle it, he shall thanke thee for killing thy selfe, come follow my directions, and thou shalt see strange sleights.

World whether wilt thou?

SCEN. PRIMA.

Medam, Medam, are you stirring Medame, if you be stirring Medam, if I thought I should disturbe yee.

My Lady is vp forsooth.

A, pretty boy, faith how old art thou?

I thinke foureteene.

Nay, and yee be in the teens, are yee a gentleman borne, do you know me, my name is Medam Maquerelle, I lye in the old Cunny Court.

See heere the Ladyes.

A faire day to yee Maquerelle.

Is the Dutches vp yet Centinell?

O Ladies, the most abhominable mischance, O deare Ladies the most piteous disaster, Farneze was taken last night in the Dutches Chamber: Alas the Duke catcht him and kild him.

Was he found in bed?

O no, but the villanous certenty is, the dore was not bolted, the tongue-tyed hatch held his peace, so the naked troth is, he was found in his shirt, whilest I like an arrand beast lay in the outward Chamber, heard nothing, and yet they came by me in the dark, and yet I felt thē not, like a sencelesse creature as I was. O beauties, looke to your buske-poynts, if not chastely, yet charily: be sure the doore be boulted: is your Lorde gone to Florence?

Yes Maquarelle.

I hope youle finde the discretion to purchase a fresh gowne fore his returne: Now by my troth beauties, [Page] I would ha ye once wise: he loues ye, pish: he is witty, bub­ble: faire proportioned, mew: nobly borne, winde; let this be still your fixt position, esteeme me euery man according to his good gifts, and so yee shall euer remaine most deare, and most woorthie to be most deare Ladies.

Is the Duke returnd from hunting yet?

They say, not yet.

Tis now in mid'st of day.

How beares the Dutches with this blemish now?

Faith boldly, strongly defyes defame, as one that haz a Duke to her father. And theres a note to you, be sure of a stout friend in a corner, that may alwayes awe your husband. Marke the hauiour of the Dutches now, she dares defame, cryes, Duke do what thou canst, ile quite mine honor: nay, as one confirmed in her owne vertue a­gainst ten thousand mouthes that mutter her disgrace, shees presently for daunces.

For daunces?

Most true.

Most strange, see, heeres my seruant yong Fer­rard: How many seruants thinkst thou I haue, Maqua­relle?

The more the merier: twas well sayd, vse your seruants as you doe your smocks, haue many, vse one, and change often, for that's most sweete and courtlike.

Saue y [...]e fayre Ladies, is the Duke returned?

Sweet Sir, no voyce of him as yet in Court.

Tis very strange.

And how like you my seruant, Maquarelle?

I thinke hee could hardly drawe Ulisses bowe, but by my fidelity, were his nose narrower, his eyes broa­der, his hands thinner, his lippes thicker, his legges big­ger, his feete lesser, his haire blacker, and his teeth whiter, hee were a tollerable sweete youth ifaith. And hee will come to my Chamber, I will reade him the fortune of his beard.

SCENA SECVNDA.

We will daunce, musique, we will daunce.

Lesquanto (Ladie) penses bien, passa regis, or Beanchas brawle.

We haue forgot the brawle.

So soone? tis wonder.

Why tis but two singles on the left, two on the right, three double forward, a trauerse of six round: do this twice, three singles side, galliard tricke of twenty, curranto pace; a figure of eight, three singles broken downe, come vp, meete two doubles, fall backe, and then honor.

O Dedalus! thy maze, I haue quite forgot it.

Trust me so haue I, sauing the falling back, and then honor.

Musicke, musicke.

Who saw the duke? the duke.

Musicke.

The duke, is the duke returned?

Musicke:

The duke is either quite inuisible, or else is not.

We are not pleased with your intrusion vppon our priuate retirement: we are not pleasde: you haue for­got your selues.

Boy, thy Maister, where's the Duke?

Alas, I left him burying the earth with his spread ioylesse limbs: he tolde me he was heauy, would sleep, bade [Page] me walke off, for that the strength of fantasie oft made him talking in his dreames: I strait obeide, nor neuer saw him since: but, where so ere he is, hee's sad.

Musicke sound high, as is our heart, sound high.

SCENA TERTIA.

The Duke, peace, the Duke is dead.

Musicke.

Ist Musicke?

Giue proofe.

How?

Where.

When?

Rest in peace, as the Duke duz, quietly sit: for my owne part, I beheld him but dead, thats all: marry heers one can giue you a more particular account of him.

Speake holy father, nor let any browe within this presence fright thee from the truth: speake confidently and freely.

We attend.

Not.

On.

Such was the Dukes sad fate.

A better fortune to our Duke Mendozo.

Cry all, Mendozo: Cornets florish.

Vngratefull.

Away.

Villaine heare me.

Now you egregious deuill, ha ye murthering po­lititian, how dost duke? how dost looke now? braue duke yfaith.

How did you kill him?

Slatted his brains out, then sowst him in the bri­nie sea.

Braind him and drownd him too?

O twas best, sure worke:

For he that strikes a great man, let him strike home, or els ware, heele prooue no man: shoulder not a huge fellow, vnlesse you may be sure to lay him in the kennell.

Make vs christians, make vs christians.

Ile hoist yee, yee shall mount.

To the gallows, say ye? O ô me, Pra [...]ium incer­tum petit certum scelus. How stands the Progresse?

Iste make an excellent pandar: Duke farewell, due adue Duke.

I am glad I was ordayned for yee.

Goe to then, thou must knowe that Malenole is a strange villaine: dangerous, very dangerous, you see howe broade a speakes, a grose-jawde rogue, I would haue thee poison him: hees like a korne vpon my great [...]oe, I cannot goe for him: hee must be kored out: he must, wilt doo't, h [...]?

Anything, any thing.

Like lightning good deedes crawle, but mischiefe flies.

Your diuelships ring haze no vertue, the buffe­captaine, the sallo-westfalian gamon-faced zaza cries stand out, must haue a stiffer wareant, or no passe into the castle of Comfort.

Commaund our sodaine Letter: not enter? sha [...], what place is there in Genoa, but thou shalt into my heart, into my very heart: come, lets loue, we must loue, we two, soule and body.

How didst like the Hermite? A strange Her­mite sirrah.

A dangerous fellow, very perillous: he must die.

I, he must die.

Thoust kil him: we are wise, we must be wise.

And prouident.

Yea prouident; beware an hypocrite.

Ho, tis wondrous necessary: how?

I runne.

SCENA QVARTA.

How doe you? how doost Duke?

O doe not raue, do not turne Player, theres more of them, than can well live one by an other already. What, art an Infidell still?

I am mazde, strucke in a swowne with wonder, I am commaunded to poison thee.

I am commaunded to poyson thee, at supper.

At supper?

In the Citadell.

In the Citadell.

Crosse capers, trickes? truth a heauen would dis­charge vs as boyes do elder gunnes, one pellet to strike out another: of what faith art now?

Al is damnation, wickednes extreame, there is no faith in man.

In none but vsurers and brokers, they deceiue no man, men take vm for blood-suckers, and so they are: now God deliuer me from my friendes.

Thy friendes?

Yes, from my friends, for from mine ennemies Ile deliuer my selfe. O, cut-thr [...]ate friendship is the ranc­kest villany, marke this Mendozo, marke him for a villaine: but heauen will send a plague vpon him for a rogue.

O world!

World? Tis the onely region of Death, the grea­test shop of the Diuell, the cruelst prison of men, out of the which none passe without paying their dearest breath for a fee, theres nothing perfect in it, but extreame extreame ca­lamitie, such as comes yonder.

SCENA QVINTA.

To banishment, led on to banishment▪

Lady, the blessednesse of repentance to you.

Why, why, I can desire nothing but death, nor de­serue any thing but hell.

Belike your Lord not lou'd you, was vnkinde.

It is the Dukes pleasure this night you rest in court.

Do not weep kind cuckold, take comfort man, thy betters haue beene Beccos: Agamemnon Emperour of all the merry Greekes; that tickled all the true Troyans, was a [Page] Cornuto: Prince Arthur that cut off twelue Kings beardes was a Cornuto: Hercules, whose backe, bore vp heauen, and got forty wenches with childe in one night.

Nay twas fifty.

Faith fortie's enow a conscience, yet was a Cor­nuto: patience, mischiefe growes prowde, be wise.

Thou pinchest too deepe, art too keene vpon me.

Tut, a pittifull surgeon makes a dangerous sore. Ile tent thee to the ground. Thinkst Ile sustaine my selfe by [...]ttering thee, because thou art a Prince? I had rather follow a drunkard, and liue by licking vp his vomite, than by seruile flattery.

Yet great men ha don't.

Great slaues feare better than loue, borne natu­rally for a coale-basket, though the common ysher of prin­ces presence fortune ha blindely giuen them better place, I am vow'd to be thy affliction.

Prethee be, I loue much misery, and be thou sonne to me.

Well returnd, I praise my horse.

What newes from the Florentines?

I will conceale the great Dukes pleasure, onely this was his charge, his pleasure is, that his daughter die, Duke Pietro be banished for banishing his bloudes dishonor, and that Duke Altofront be reaccepted: this is all, but I heare Duke Pietro is dead.

I, and Mendozo is Duke, what will you doe?

Is Mendozo strongest?

Yet he is.

Then yet Ile hold with him.

But if that Altofront should turne strait againe?

Your Lordship sweats, your yong Ladie will get you a cloth for your old worships browes,

heeres a fellow to be damnd, this is his muiolable Maxim [...]. (flatter the greatest, and oppresse the least:) a whorson flesh fly, that still gnawes vpon the leane gauld backs.

Why dust then salute him?

Faith as ba [...]des go to Church, for fashion sake: come, be not confounded, th'art but in danger to [...] a Dukedome, think this: this earth is the only graue a [...] [...]ol­gotha wherein all thinges that liue must rotte: tis but the draught wherein the heauenly bodies discharge their cor­ruption, the verie muckhill on which the sublunarie orbes cast their excrements: man is the slime of this dongue-pit, and Princes are the gouernours of these men: for, for our soules, they are as free as Emperoures, all of one peece, there goes but a paire of sheeres betwixt an Emperour and the sonne of a bagpiper: only the dying, dressing, pressing, glos­sing makes the difference: now what art thou like to lose?

Thy vowes are heard, and we accept thy faith.

Altofront, Ferneze, Celso, Pietr [...].

Banish amazement: come, we foure must stand full shocke of Fortune, be not so w [...]nder st [...].

Doth Ferneze liue?

For your pardon.

Scena prima.

The Dutchman for a drunkard,

The Dane for golden lockes:

The Irishman for vsquebath,

The Frenchman for the ( )

O thou art a blessed creature, had I a modest wo­man to conceale, I would put her to thy custodie, for no reasonable creature would euer suspect her to be in thy company: ha, thou art a melodious Maquarelle, thou picture of a woman and substance of a beast, and how dost thou think a this transformation of state now?

Verie verie well, for we women alwaies note, the falling of the one, is the rising of the other: some must be fat, some must be leane, some must be fooles, and some must be Lords: some must be knaues, and some must bee [Page] officers, some must be beggars, some must be Kni [...] ▪ some must be cuck olds, and some must be citizens: as for example, I haue two court dogs, most fawning curres▪ [...]he one calde Watch, thother Ca [...]h: now I, like Ladie Fortune, somtimes loue this dog▪ somtimes rouse that dog, somtimes fauour Watch, most commonly fancie Catch: Now that dogge which I fauour I feede▪ and h [...]es so rauenous, that what I giue he neuer chawes it, gulpes it dow [...] [...] without any relish of what he haz, but with a [...] [...] ­pectation of what he shal haue: the other dogge▪ [...]

No more dogge, soote Maquarelle no more dog [...] and what hope hast thou of the Dutches Maria, will she stoope to the Dukes luer, wil she come, thinkst?

Let me see wheres [...]he signe now? ha ye e [...]e a cal­lender, wheres the signe tro [...] you?

Sign? why, is there any moment in that?

O beleeue me a most secret power, looke yee a Caldean, or an Assyrian, I am sure t'was a most sweete Iew [...]ould me, court any woman in the right signe, you shal not misse, but you must take he [...] in the right veine then: As when the signe is in Pisces, a fishmo [...]gers wife is verie so­tiable: in Cancer, a pr [...]cisians wife is verie flexible: in Ca­pricorne, a Marchants wife hardly holdes out: in Libra, a Lawyers wife is very tractable, especially, if her husband be at the tearme: onely, in Scorpio [...]s ve [...]ie dangerous medling, haz the Duke sent any jewell, anie rich stones?

I, I thinke those are the best signes, to take a Lady in: by your fauor signeur: I must discourse with the Lady Maria, Altofronts Dutches: I must enter for the Duke.

Shee heere shall guie you enterveiw, I receaued the guardshippe of this Ci [...]adell from the good Al [...]front, and for his vse Ile keep't, til I am of [...]o vse.

Wil [...] thou, O heauen that a christian should be found in a buffeierkin, Captaine conscience? I loue thee [Page] Capt [...]e.

wee attend, and what hope hast thou of this Dutches [...]?

Twill goe hard, she was a could creature euer, she hated munkies, fooles, ieasters, and gentlemen vshers extreamely: she had the vilde tricke on't, not onely to bee truely modestly honourable in her owne consci­enc [...] [...] shee would avoide the least wanton carri­a [...] [...] might incurre suspect, as God blesse me, she [...] [...] brought bed pressing out of fashion: I could [...]arce get a fine, for the lease of a Ladies fauour once in a fortnight.

Now in the name of immodesty, how many mai­den-heads hast thou brought to the block?

Let me see: heauen forgiue vs our misdeedes, heeres the Dutches.

SCENA SECVNDA.

God blesse thee Lady,

out of thy company:

We haue brought thee tender of a husband,

I hope I haue one already.

Nay, by mine honour madam, as good hee nere a husband, as a banisht husband, hees in an other world now, Ile tell y [...] Lady, I haue heard of a sect that maintained, when the husband was asleepe, the wife might lawfully entertaine another man: for then her husband was as dead, much more when he is banished.

Vnhonest creature:

Pish, honesty is but an art to seeme so: pray yee whats honesty? whats constancie? but fables fained, odde old fools chat deuisde by ielous fooles, to wrong our liberty.

Mully, he that loues thee is a Duke, Mendozo, he will maintaine thee royally, loue the ardently, defend thee powerfully, marrie thee sumptuously, and keepe thee in [Page] despight of Rosciclere, or Donzell dell Phebe [...] theres [...]wels, if thou wilt, so, if not, so.

Gainst him that can enforce how vaine is strife?

Now the feare of the Diuell for euer go with thee. Maquerelle, I tell thee I haue found an honest woman, faith I perceiue when all is done, there is of women as of all o­ther things: some good, most bad, some saintes, some sin­ners: for as now adaies no Courtier but haz his mistris, no Captaine but haz his cockatrice, no Cuckold but haz his hornes, and no foole but haz his f [...]ther: even so no woman but haz her weaknesse and feather too, no sex but haz his: I can hunt the letter no furder: O God how loathsome this toying is to me, that a Duke should be for [...]d to foole it: well, Stultorūplena sunt omnia, better play the foole Lord, then be the foole Lord: now, wheres your slightes Madam Maquarelle?

Why, are yee ignorant that tis sed, a squemish affected nicenes is naturall to women, and that the excuse of their yeelding, is onely forsooth the difficult obtaining, you must put her too' [...], women are flaxe, and will fire in a moment.

Why was the flax put into thy mouth, and yet thou? thou set fire? thou enflame her.

Mary, but Ile tell yee now, you were too ho [...] ▪

The fitter to haue [...] the flaxwoman.

You were too boisterous [...] ▪ for indeede.

Go thou the Dukes lime-twigge, Ile make the Duke turne thee out of thine office, what not get one touch of hope, and [...] at such advantage.

Now a my con [...], now I thinke in my discre­ [...] [...] did not take her [...] [...]e [...]ght signe, the blood was not in the true veine, sure.

SCENA TERTIA.

On on, leaue vs, leaue vs [...] where is the hermit▪

With Duke Pietro, with [...] Pietro.

Is he dead? is he poysoned▪

Dead as the Duke is.

Good, excellent, he will not [...] ▪ se [...]renes liues in secrecy▪ cōme liether▪ come liether.

Thou hast a certaine strong villa [...] sent about thee, my nature cannot indu [...]e.

Sent man? what returnes Maria? what answer to our sute?

Colde▪ frostie, she is obstinate.

Pew, per sc [...]ra semper sceleribus tutum est [...]ter.

What ar [...] a scholler? art a polititian? sure thou a [...]te an arrand knaue.

Wh [...] I? I h [...] bene [...] an vnder sherife, man.

Canst [...]hou impoys [...] ▪ canst thou impoyson?

Excellently▪ no Iew▪ Potecary, or [...] better: look ye, here's a box, whom wouldst thou impoison, here's a box, which opened, and the [...] [...]ne vp in condites, tho­row which the braine purge [...] it selfe, doth instantly for 12. houres space, bind vp al shew of life in a deep sensles sleep: [Page] heres another, which being opened vnder the sleeper [...] nose, ch [...]aks all the pores of life, [...] him sodainely.

Ile try experiments, tis good not to be decoued▪ [...] so, Catzo:

My honored Lord.

The good Maleuole, that plain-tongued [...], is dead on sodaine wondrou [...] strangely, he held in o [...]r e­steem good place,

Celso, see him buried, see him buried.

I shall obserue y [...]e.

Of what shape, sweete Lorde,

Our happy fortune, some such any thing, some farre [...]et tricke, good for Ladies, some stale toy or other, no matter so't be of our deuising.

All seruice.

Death of the damn'd thiefe, Ile make one i'the maske, thou shalt ha some

Br [...]ue spirites of the antique Dukes.

My Lord, what strange di [...]sion?

Most happy, deere [...], poi [...] with an emptyStarts vp and speakes. box▪ Ile giue thee all anone: my Lady comes to court, there is [...] [...]rle of fate comes tumbling on▪ the Castles captaine stands for me, the people pray for me, and the great leader of the iust stands for me: then courage Celso.

Make roome there, roome for the ladies: why gen­tlemen, wil not ye suffer the ladies to be entr [...]d in the great chamber? why gallants? and you sir, to droppe your Torch where the beauties must sit too.

And theres a great fellow playes the knaue, why dost not strike him?

Let him play the knaue a Gods name, thinkst thou I haue no more wit then to strike a great fellow, the musike, more lights, reueling, scaffolds: do you heare? let there be othes enow ready at the doore, sweare out the diuel himself. Lets leaue the Ladies, and goe see if the Lords be ready for them.

And by my troth Beauties, why do you not put you into the fashion, this is a stale cu [...] ▪ you must come in fa­shion: looke ye, you must be all felt, fealt and feather, a fealt vpon your head: looke ye, these [...]ing things are iustly out of request now: and doe yee heare? you must weare falling bands, you must come into the falling fashion: there is such a deale a pinning these ruffes, when the sine cleane fall is woorth all: and agen▪ if you should chance to take a nap in the afternoone, your falling ba [...] requires no poting sticke to recouer his forme: beheue [...], no fashion to the falling band I say.

And is not [...] S. Andrew Iaqu [...] [...] gallant fellow now?

By my maiden-head la, honour and hee agrees aswell together, as a satten sute and wollen stockings.

But, is not Marshall Make-roome my seruant in reversion, a proper gentleman?

Yes in [...] as he had his office, as in truth he hath all things in reversion: hee haz his Mistris in reversi­on, his cloathes in reversion, his wit in reversion, & indeed [...], is a suter to me for my dogge in reversion: but in good ve­ritie la, hee is as proper a gentleman in reversion as: and indeede, as fine a man as may be, hauing a red beard and a paire of warpt legges,

But I faith I am most monstrously in loue with count Quidlibet in Quodlibet, is he not a pretty dapper windle gallant?

He is even one of the most busy [...]ingerd lords, he will put the beauties to the squeake most hiddeously.

Roome, make a lane there, the Duke is entring: stand handsomely for beauties sake, take vp the Ladies there. So, cornets, cornets.

SCENA QVARTA.

What wouldst thou, thou affliction to our house? Thou euer diuell, twas th [...] that banishedst my truely noble Lord.

I?

Weele checke your too intemperate Iauishnes, I I can, and will.

What canst?

Go to, in banishment thy husband dies.

He euer is at home thats euer wise.

Youst neuer meete more [...]eason should Loue controule,

Not meete?

She that de [...]re loues, her loue's still in her soule.

You are but a woman Lady, you must yeelde.

Modesty? Death Ile torment thee,

Thou obstinate, thou shalt die: captaine, that La­dies life is forfeited to Iustice, we haue examined her,

Who? let her in.

Forbeare.

Forbear [...].

Peace.

I ha done; one word, take heede, I ha done.

Are you God of ghostes, I haue a sute depending in hell betwixt me and my conscience, I would [...]aine haue thee helpe me to an advocate.

Mercurie shalbe your lawier Lady,

Nay faith, Mercurie haz too good a face to be a right lawier.

Peace, forbeare: Mercurie presents the ma [...]ke.

Celso, Celso, court Maria for our loue Lady, be gratious, yet grace.

With me Sir?

They die in feare who liue in villanie.

Yes, beleeue him Ladie, and be rulde by him.

Madam with me? [...]etro takes [...] wife Au­ [...]ia to dance

Wouldst then be miserable?

I neede not wish.

Poore loued soule.

What, wouldst court miserie?

Yes.

Sheele come too soone O my gree [...]'d heart.

Art a sad man?

Yes sweete.

Then weele agree.

Beleeue it Lady, shal I sweare, let me inioy you inTo Beanch [...]. priuate, and Ile marrie you by my soule.

I had rather you would sweare by your body: I think that would proue the more regarded othe with you.

Ile sweare by them both, to please you.

O▪ dam them not both, to please me, for Gods sake.

Faith swete creature let me inioy you to night, and Ile marry you to morrow fortnight, by my troth lo.

On his [...]roth lo, beleeue him not, that kinde of cunnicatching is as stale as fir Oliuer Anchoues perfumde ierkin: promise of matrimony by a yoong Gallant, to bring a virgin Lady into a fooles paradise: make her a great woman, and then cast her off: tis as common as naturall to a Courtier, as jelosie to a Citizen, gluttony to a Puritan, wisdome to an Alderman, pride to a Tayler, or an empty to one of these sixepenny damnations: of his troth lo, be­leeue him not, traps to catch polecats.

Keepe your face constant, let no suddaine passion speake in your eies.To Maria.

O my Altofront.

A tyrants jelosies are verie nimble, you receiue it all.To Aurelia.

My heart though not my knees doth v [...]bly fall, Lo as the earth to thee.

Peace, next change, no words.

[...]

Maleuole▪

No.

Altofront, Duke Lorenzo Fer [...], hah?

Duke [...], Duke Altofront.

Where an arch villaine i [...].

Ignoble villaine, whome neither h [...]en nor hell, goodnesse of God or man could once make good.

O life!