SCE. PRIMA.

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

Are ye building Babilon there?

Heere's a noise in Court, you thinke you are in a Tauerne, do you not?

You thinke you are in a brothell house, do 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 Malecontent Male [...]oles chamber.

Male [...]ole.

Out of his chamber. Yaugh, godaman what dost thou there: Dukes Gani­med Iunoes iealous of thy long stockings: shadowe of a woman, what wouldst Weesell? thou lambe a Court: what doost thou bleat for? a you smooth chind Catamite!

Come downe thou ragged cur, and s [...]arle heere, I giue thy dogged sullennes free libertie: trot about and be-spurtle whom thou pleasest.

Ile come among you, you gotish blooded Tode­rers, as Gum into Taffata, to fret, to fret: Ile fall like a spunge in­to water to sucke vp; to sucke vp. Howle againe. Ile go to church 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 Grave; as farre from any content, as from heauen: his highest delight is to procure others vexati­on, and therein he thinkes he truly serues heauen; for t'is his posi­tion, whosoeuer in this earth can bee contented, is a flaue and damn'd; therefore do's he afflict al in that to which they are most affected; th' Elements struggle within him; his own soule is at va­riance within her selfe: his speach is halter-worthy at all houres: I like him; faith, he giues good intelligence to my spirit, makes me vnderstand those weakenesses which others flattery palli­ates: harke, they sing;

SCENA TERTIA.

Sce: he comes: now shall you heare the extreamitie of a Male­content: he is as free as ayre: he blowes oues every man. And [...], whence come you now?

From the publike place of much dissimulation,

What didst there▪

Talke with a Vsurer: take vp at interest.

I wonder what religion thou art of.

Of a souldiers religion.

And what doost thinke makes most infidells [...] ▪

Sects, sects, I haue seene seeming Pietie change her roabeso oft, that sure none but some arch-diuell can * shape her a Pe [...]icote.

O [...] a religious pollicie.

But damnation on a politique religion: I am wearie, would I were one of the Dukes houndes now.

But what's the common newes abroad Male [...]ole, thou dogst rumor still?

Common newes? why common wordes are, God saue yee, Fare yee well: common actions, Flattery and Cosenage: common things, Women and Cuckolds: and how do's my little Ferra [...]d [...] a yee lecherous Animall, my little Ferret, he goes suck­ing vp and downe the pallace into euery hens nest like a Weesell: and to what doost thou addict thy time to now, more then to those Antique painted drabs that are still affected of yong Cour­tiers, Flatt [...]ry, Pride, and Venery.

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

Phew, the Divell, let him possesse thee, hee'le teach thee to speake all languages, most readily and strangely, and great reason mary, hees traveld greatly in the world; & is every where.

Saue ith Court.

I, saue ith Court: and how do's my olde muckhill ouer­spread with fresh snow:To Bilios [...]. thou halfe a man, halfe a goate, al a beast: how do's thy yong wife, old huddle?

Out you improuident rascall.

Doe, kicke thou hugely hornd old Dukes Oxe, good Master make-pleece.

How doost thou liue now a daies Maleuol [...]?

Why like the Knight S. Patrik Penlolians, with killing a spiders for my Ladies Munkey.

How doost spend the night, I heare thou neuer sleep'st?

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

Dreame, what dreamst?

Why me thinkes I see that Signior pawn his foot-cloth: that Metreza her Plate: this madam takes phisicke: that tother Me [...]si [...]ur may minister to her: here is a Pander jeweld: there is a fellow in shift of Satten this day, that could not shift a shirt to­ther night: heere a Paris supports that Hellen: there's a Lady Guineuer beares vp that sir Lancel [...]t. Dreames, dreames, visions, fantasies, Chimeraes, imaginations, trickes, conceits,To Prepasso▪ Sir Tristram Trimtram come a loft Ia [...]ke a napes with a whim wham, heere's a Knight of the land of Catit [...] shall play at trap with any page in Europe; Do the sword-dance, with any Morris dancer in Chri­stendome; ride at the Ring till the [...]inne of his eyes looke as blew as the welkin, and runne the wilde-goose chase [...]uen with [Page] Pompey the huge.

You runne.

To the divell: now Signor Guerchin [...]; that thou from a most pittied prisoner shouldst grow a most loathd flatterer: Alas poore Celso, thy starr's opprest, thou art an honest Lord, tis pity.

Ist pitty?

I marry ist philosophical Equato, & t'is pitty that thou be­ing so excellent a scholler by art, shouldst be so ridiculous a foole by nature: I have a thing to tell you Duke; bi [...] v [...] auaunt, bid vm auaunt.

Leaue vs, leaue vs, now sir what ist?

Duke thou art a Beco, a Cornut [...].

How?

Thou art a Cuckold.

Speake; vnshale him quicke.

With most tumbler-like nimblenes.

Who? by whom? I burst with desire.

Blirt a rime; blirt a rime; Maquerelle is a cunning bawde, I am an honest villaine, thy wife is a close drab, and thou at [...] cuckold, farewell Duke.

Stay, stay.

Dull, dull Duke, can lazy patience make lame reueng [...]? O God for a woman to make a man that which God neuer created, neuer made!

What did God never make?

A cuckold: To bee made a thing that's hud-wink [...] with kindenesse, whilst every rascall philips his browes; to have a cox­combe with egregious hornes, pind to a Lords backe, euery page sporting himselfe with delightfull laughter, whilst hee must be the last must know it; Pistols and Poniards, Pistols and Poniards.

Death and damnation!

Lightning and thunder!

Vengeance and torture!

Catz [...]!

O revenge!

Incest.

Yes incest: marke, Mendoz [...] of his wife begets per­chance a daughter. Mendo [...] die [...]. His son marries this daughter. Say you? Nay tis frequent, not onely probable, but no question often acted, whilst ignorance, fearelesse ignorance claspes his owne seede.

Hydeous imagination!

Adultery? why next to the sinne of Symony, t'is the most horride transgression vnder the cope of saluation.

Next to Simony?

I, next to Symony, in which our men in next age shall not sinne.

Not sinne? Why?

Because (thankes to some church-men) our age will leaue them nothing to sinne with. But adultery! O dulnes! shue, should exemplary punishment, that intemperate bloods may freeze, but to thinke it. 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 Male [...]ele thou shalt see instantly what temper my spirit holdes; farewell, remember I forget thee not, farewell.

SCENA QVARTA.

Why man we are all Philosophical Monarkes or naturall [...]ooles, Celso, the Courts after, the Dutches sheetes will smoke for't ere it be long: Impure Mendoza that sharpe nosde Lord, that made the cursed match linkt Gen [...]a with Florence now brode hornes the Duke, which he now knowes: Discord to Malecontents is very Manna, when the rankes are burst, then scuffle Altofront.

I but durst.

Tis gone, tis swallowed like a minerall, some way t'will worke, phewt Ile not shrinke, "Hees resolute who can no lower sinke.

O the father of May-poles, did you neuer see a fellow [Page] whose strength consisted in his breath, respect in his office, reli­gion on his Lord, and loue in himselfe? why then behold.

Sinior.

I can tell you strange newes, but I am sure you know them already. The Duke speakes much good of you.

Go to then, and shall you and I now enter into a strict friendship?

Second one another.

Yes.

Do one another good offices.

Iust, what though I cal'd thee old Oxe, egregious Wit­tall, Broken-bellied Coward, Rotten Mummy,

His grace presents you by me a chaine, as his gratefull remem­brance for—I am ignorant for what, marry yee may impart: Yet howsoeuer—come—deare friend:

Your sonne?

He shall eate wood-cocks, dance jigges, make possets, and play at shuttle-cocke with any yong Lord about the Court: he haz as sweete a Lady too: doost know her little bitch?

Tis a dogge man.

Beleeue me, a shee bitch? O tis a good creature, thon shalt be her servant, Ile make thee acquainted with my yong wife too: what, I keepe her not at Court for nothing: Tis growne to supper time, come to my table, that any thing I haue standes open to thee.

I shall now leaue you with my alwaies best wishes, onely let's hold betwixt vs a firme correspondence, a mutuall-frendly-reciprocall-kinde of steddie-vnanimous-hartily leagued.—

Did your sinniorship ne're see a pigeon house that was smooth, round, and white without, and full of holes and stinke within, ha ye not old Courtier?

O yes, tis the forme the fashion of them all.

Adue my true Court-friend, farewell my deare Castilio.

Yonders 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 Secretary, leaue me.

Mendoza, harke yee, harke yee. You are a treacherous villaine, God bwy 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 he Marmoset, Egistus didst euer heare of one Egistus?

Gistus?

I Egistus, he was a filthy incontinent Flesh-monger, such a one as thou art.

Out grumbling rogue.

Orestes, beware Orestes.

Out beggar.

I once shall rise.

Thou rise?

Now good Elizium, what a delicious heauen is it for a man to be in a Princes fauour: O sweete God! O pleasure! O fortune! O 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 silence in his presence, solita­rinesse in his absence, a confused hum, and busie murmure of ob­sequious suters training him; the cloth held vp, and way pro­claimed before him: Petitionary vassalls licking the pauement [Page] with their slauish knees, whilst some odde pallace Lampreel [...]s that ingender with snakes, and are full of eyes on both sides, with a kinde of insinuated humblenesse, fixe all their delightes vpon his brow: O blessed state, what a rauishing prospect doth the Olympus of fauour yeeld▪ Death, I cornute the Duke: sweete women, most sweete Ladies, nay Angells; 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 mankinde, life blood of society, who would liue, nay who can liue without you? O Paradice, how maiesticall is your austerer presence? how imperiously chaste is your more modest face? but O! how full of rauishing attraction is your pret­tie, petulant, langushing, laciuiously-composed countenance: these amorous smiles, those soule-warming sparkling glances, ar­dent as those flames that sing'd the world by heedelesse Phaeton; in body how delicate, in soule how wittie, in discourse how preg­nant, in life how warie, in fauours how iuditious, in day how soci­able, and in night how? O pleasure vnutterable, indeede it is most certaine, one man cannot deserue onely to inioy a beauteous wo­man: but a Dutchesse? in despight of Phoebus Ile write a sonnet instantly in praise of her.

SCENA SEXTA.

And ist possible? Mendoza slight me, possible?

Possible? what can be strange in him that's drunke with favor, Growes insolent with grace? speake Maq [...]erelle, speake.

To speake feelingly, more, more richly in [...]ol [...]ide sence then worthlesse wordes, give me those jewells of your eares to receiue my inforced dutie, as for my part tis wellF [...]rneze pri­uately [...]eedes Maquerelles hands with iewells during this speech. knowne I can put any thing; can bea [...]e patiently with any man: But when I heard he wronged your pretious sweetenes, I was inforced to take deepe offence; Tis most certaine he loues Emilia with high appetite; and as she told me (as you know we women impart our secrets one to another,) when she repulsed his suite, in that hee was possessed with your indeered grace: Mendoza most ingrate­fully renounced all faith to you.

Nay, cal'd you, speake Maquerelle, speake.

By heauen witch: dride bisquet, and contested blush­lesly he lou'd you but for a spurt, or so.

For maintenance.

Aduancement and regard.

O villaine! O impudent Mendoza.

Nay he is the rustiest jade, the fowlest mouthd knaue in railing against our sex: he will raile against women.

How? how?

I am asham'd to speak't, I.

I loue to hate him▪ speake.

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

What?

Troth t'is too shamelesse.

What said hee?

Why that at foure women were fooles, at fouret [...]e drabbes, at fortie baudes, at fourescore witches, and a hundred cattes.

O vnlimitable impudencie!

Enioy my fauour, I will be sicke instantly & take phisick, Therefore in deapth of night visite.

Visite her chamber, but conditionally, you shall not offend her bed: By this diamond.

By this diamond—

Nor tarry longer than 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.—

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

Dri'd bisquet! looke where the base wretch comes.

Beauties life, heauens modell, loues Queene.

That's his Aemilia.

Natures triumph, best on earth.

Meaning Aemilia.

Thou onely wonder that the world hath seene.

That's Aemilia.

Must I then heare her praisde Mendoza?

Out villaine, villaine: O iudgement, where haue beene my eyes? what bewitched election made me dote on thee? what sorcery made me loue thee? but be gone, bury thy head: O that I could do more then loathe thee: hence worst of ill: No reason aske, our reason is our will.

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

Damnation of mankinde: breath, hast thou praisde them for this? And ist you Ferneze are wrigled into smocke grace? sit sure, O that I could raile against these monsters in nature, modells 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, rash in asking, desperate in wor­king, impatient in suffering, extreame in desiring, slaues vnto ap­petite, mistrisses in dissembling, only constant in vnconstancie, onely perfect in counterfaiting: their wordes are fained, their eyes forged, their sights dissembled, their lookes counterfait, 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 diuells they tremble at.

SCENA SEPTIMA.

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

I ha forgot vm.

Thou shalt die.

So shalt thou; I am heart mad.

I am horne mad.

Extreame mad.

Monstrously mad.

Why?

Why? thou, thou hast dishonoured my bed.

Mendoza, Thou know'st I am a most plaine breasted man.

The fitter to make a cuckolde: would your browes were most plaine too.

Tell me, indeede I heard thee raile.

Hart, I hate all women for't, sweete sheetes, waxe lightes, antique bed [...]postes, cambricke smocks, villanous curtai [...]es, arras pictures, oy [...]de hinges, and all the tongue-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 Ferneze is the man, Ferneze, Ile proou't, this night you shall take him in your sheetes, wilt serue?

It will, my bozom's in some peace, till night.

What?

Farewell.

"Who cannot faine friendship, can nere produce the ef­fects of hatred: Honest foole Duke, subtile lasciuious Dutches, seely nouice Ferneze; I do laugh at yee, my braine is in labour till it produce mischiefe, and I feele sudden throws, proofes sensible, the issue is at hand.

Foole, most happily incountred, canst sing foole?

Yes I can sing foole, if youle beare the burden, and I can play vpon instruments, scuruily. as gentlemen do; O that I had beene gelded, I should then haue beene a fatte foole for a chamber, a squeaking foole for a taverne, and a priuate foole for all the Ladies.

You are in good case since you came to court foole; what garded, garded!

Yes faith, euen as footemen and bawdes weare veluet, not [...]or an ornament of Honour, but for a badge of drudgery: for now the Duke is discontented I am faine to foole him asleepe euery night.

What are his griefes?

He hath sore eies.

I neuer observed so much.

Horrible sore eyes; and so hath euery Cuckold, for the rootes of the hornes spring in the eye-balles, and thats the reason the horne of a cuckolde is as tender as his eie; or as that growing in the womans forehead twelue yeeres since, that could not en­dure to be toucht. The Duke hangs downe his head like a co­lumbine.

Passarell [...], why doe great men begge fooles?

As the Welchman stole rushes, when there was no­thing else to filch; onely to keepe begging in fashion.

Faith I vtter small fragments as your knight courtes your City [...] with jingling of his guilt spurres, aduauncing his bush colored beard, and taking Tabacco. This is all the mir­rour [Page] of their knightly complements: Nay I shall talke when my toong is a going once; tis like a Citizen on horsebacke, euermore in a false gallop.

And how dooth Maquerelle fare nowadayes?

Faith I was wont to salute her as our English women are at their first landing in Flushing; I would call her whoore; but now that antiquitie leaues her as an old peece of plasticke t'work by, I onely aske hir how her rotten teeth fare euery morning, and so leaue her: she was the first that euer inuented perfumd smocks for the gentlewomen, and woollen shooes for feare of creaking: for the visitant, she were an excellent Lady, but that hir face pee­leth like Muscouie glasse.

And how dooth thy olde Lord that hath wit enough to be a flatterer, and conscience enough to be a knaue?

O excellent, he keepes beside me fifteene jeasters, to instruct him in the Art of fooling, and viters their jeastes in pri­uate to the Duke and Dutchesse; heele lie like to your Switzer, or Lawyer; heele be of any side for most mony.

I am in haste, be briefe.

Heele thriue I warrant you, while your yong courtier stands like Good-friday in Lent, men long to see it, because more fatting dayes come after it, else hees the leanest and pittifulst actor in the whole Pageant; Adew Maleuole.

Youle know me againe Maleuole.

O I, by that veluet.

I am as common in the Court as an hostesses lippes in the coun­trey; knights, and clownes, and knaues, and all share mee: the Court cannot possibly be without me. Adue Maleuole.

SCENA I:

SCENA SECVNDA.

Blesse yee cast a Ladies: ha dip-sawce, how doost thou olde Cole?

Olde Cole?

I olde Cole; mee thinkes thou liest like a brand vnder billets of greene wood. Hee that will inflame a yong wenches heart, let him lay close to her: an olde Cole that hath first beene fired, a pandre [...] my halfe burnt lint, who though thou canst flame thy selfe, yet arte able to set a thousand virgins tapers afire: [Page] and how dooth Ianiuere thy husband, my little periwincle, is hee troubled with the cough of the lungs stil? doos he hawke a nights still, he will not bite.

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

And hee tooke thee with thy belly full of yoong bones: Marie he tooke his maime by the stroke of his enemy.

And I mine by the stroke of my friend.

The close stocke! ô mortall wench: Lady, ha ye now no restoratiues for your decaied Iasons? Looke yee, crabs guts bak'd, distild oxe-pith, the puluerized haires of a lions vpper lip, gellie of cocke [...]sparrowes, he monkies marrow, or powlder of foxe-stones. And whither are you ambling now?

To bed, to bed.

Doe your husbands lie with yee?

That were country 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 composd posset with three curds, without anie drinke: wil yee helpe mee with a hee foxe? heeres the Duke.

Fride frogs are very good & French like too:—

SCENA TERTIA.

The night growes deepe and fowle, what houre ist?

Vpon the stroake of twelue.

Saue yee Duke.

From thee; be gone, I doe not loue thee, let mee see thee no more, we are displeased.

Be gone sirra.

When Arthur first in Court beganne,—Agamemnon: Menelnm—was euer any Duke a Cornuto?

Be gone hence.

What religion wilt thou be of next?

Out with him.

Why when? out yee rogue, be gone ye rascal.

I shall now leaue yee with all my best wishes.

Out ye curre.

Onely lets hold together a firme correspondence.

Out.

A mutual friendly reciprocall perpetuall kind of sted­die vnanimous heartily leagued.

Hence yee grosse jaw'd pesantly, out, go.

Adue pigeon house: thou Burre th [...]t onely stickest to nappy fortunes, the Sarpego, the Strangury, an eternall vneffec­tuall Priapisme seise thee.

Out rogue.

Maiest thou be a notorious wittally pander to thine owne wife, and yet get no office but liue to be the vtmost mise­rie of mankinde, a beggarly cuckold.

It shall be so.

SCENA QVARTA.

Euen heere it is, three curdes in three regions indiuidu­ally distinct.

[Page] Most methodicall according to art compos'd without any drink.

Without any drinke?

Vpon my honour, will you sit and eate?

Good, the composure, the receit, how ist?

Tis a prettie pearle, by this pearle, (how doost with me,) thus it is, seauen and thirtie yelkes of Barbarie hennes egges, eighteene spoonefulles and a halfe of the i [...]yce of cockesparrow bones, one ounce, three drammes, foure scruples, and one quarter of the sirrop of Ethiopian dates, sweetned with three quarters of a poond of pure candide Indian Eringos, strewed ouer with the powder of pearle of America, amber of Cataia, and lambe stones of Muscouia.

Trust me the ingredients are very cordiall, and no que­stion good, and most powerfull in restauration.

I know not what you me [...]ne by restauration, but this it doth, it purifieth the blood, Imootheth the skinne, in [...]feneth the eye, strengthneth the vemes, mundefieth the teeth, comfor­teth the stomacke, fortifieth the backe, and quickneth the wit; thats all.

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

Haue you the art to seeme honest?

I thanke aduise and practise.

Why then eate me of this posset, quicken your blood, and preserue your beautie. Do you know doctor Plaster-face, by this curde, hee is the most exq [...]isite in forging of veines, spright­ning of eyes, dying of haire, sleeking of skinnes, blushing of cheekes, surpheleing of breastes blanching and bleaching of teeth that [...] made an old Lady gratious by torch [...] light: by this curd law.

We we are resolued what god haz giuen vs weel ch [...]rish.

Cherish any thing sauing your husband, keepe him not too high, lest he leape the pale [...] but for your beautie, let it be your saint, b [...]quea [...]h two houres to it euery morning in your closet: I ha beene yong, and yet in my conseience I am not aboue fiue and twentie, but beleeue me, preserue and vse your beautie; for youth and beautie once gone, we are like bee-hiues without hony: out a fashion, apparell that no man will weare, therefore vse me your beautie.

I but men say.

Men say? let men say wha [...] they wil, life a woman, they are ignorant of your wants, the more in yeares, the more in per­fection they grow: if they loose youth & beauty, they gaine wise­dome & discretion: But when our beautie fades, goodnight with vs: there cannot be an vglier thing to see, then an olde woman, from which, O pruning, pinching, & painting, deliuer all sweete beauties.

Harke, musicke.

Peace, tis in the Dutches bed-chamber, good rest most prosperously grac'd Ladies.

Good-night centinell.

Night deere Maquerelle.

May my possets operation send you my wit & honesty▪ And me your youth & beauty: the pleasingst rest.

SCENA QVINTA.

Strike, strike.

Saue my Ferneze, O saue my Ferneze.

Follow, pursue.

O saue Ferneze.

At your seruice, by the Lord law, shall's goe to supper, let's be once drunke together, and so vnite a most vertuously strengthened friendship, shall's Hugonot, shall's?

Wilt fall vpon my chamber to morrowe morne?

As a rauen to a dunghill; they say theres one dead heere, prickt for the pride of the flesh.

there he is, prethee bury him.

O most willingly, I mean to turne pure Rochel church­man, I.

Thou church man! why? why?

Because Ile liue lazily, raile vpon authoritie, deny kings supremacy in things indifferent, and be a Pope in mine owne pa­rish.

Wherefore doost thou thinke churches were made?

To scowre plow-shares, I haue seene oxen plow vppe Altares: Et nunc seges vbi Sion fuit.

Strange.

Nay monstrous, I ha seen a sumptuous steeple turnd to a stincking priuie; more beastly, the sacredst place made a dogges kennell: nay most inhumane, the stoned coffins of long dead [Page] christians burst vp, and made hogs-troughs—Hic sinis Pri [...]ni. Shall I ha some sacke and cheese at thy chamber?

Good night good mischieuous incarnate diuel, good night Men­doza, ah you inhumane villaine, goodnight, night fub.

Good night: to morrow morne.

I doe descry crosse-poynts, honesty and court-ship, straddle as farre as [...]nder, as a true Frenchmans legges.

O!

Proclamations, more proclamations.

O a Surgeon.

SCENA I.

My Lord, I haue some bookes which haue beene de­dicated to my honor, and I nere read vm, and yet they had verie fine names: Phisicke for Fortune: Lozinges of sanctified sinceritie, very pretty workes of Curates, Scriueners and Schoolemaisters Mary I remember one Seneca, Lucius Anneus Seneca.

Out vpon him, he writ of Temperance and fortitude, yet liued like a voluptuous epicure, and died like an effeminate coward. Haste thee to Florence: heere, take our Letters, see vm sealed; away; report in priuate to the ho [...]ored Duke, his daugh­ters forced disgrace, tell him at length,

Madam, I am going Embassador for Florence, twill be great charges to me.

No matter my Lord, you haue the lease of two man­nors come out next Christmasse; you may lay your tenants on the greater racke for it: and when you come home againe, Ile teach you how you shall get two hundred poundes a yeere by your teeth.

How Madam?

Cut off so much from house-keeping, that which is [Page] saued by the teeth, you know is got by the teeth.

Fore God, and so I may, I am in wondrous credite Lady.

See the vse of flattery, I did euer counsell you to flat­ter greatnes, and you haue profited well: any man that will doe so shal be sure to be like your Sco [...]ch Barnacle, now a blocke, in­stantly a worme, and presently a great goose: this it is to rot and putrifie in the bosome of greatnes.

Thouia rte euer my polititian, O how happy is that olde [...] ord that hath a polititian to his yong Lady! Ile haue fiftie gentlemen shall attend vpon mee; mary the most of them shalbe Farmers sonnes, because they shall beare their owne charges, and they shall goe appar [...]ld thus, in sea-water greene sutes, ash-color [...], wetchet stockings, and popinj [...]y greene feathers, will not the colours doe excellent?

Out vpont, theile looke like Cittizens riding to their friendes at Whitsontide, their apparell iust so many seuerall pa­ [...]ishes.

Ile haue it so, and Passarello my foole shall goe along with me, mary he shall be in veluet?

A foole in veluet.

I, tis common for your foole to weare sattin, ile haue mine in veluet.

What will you weare then my Lord?

Veluet too, mary it shall be embroidered, because ile d [...]ffer from the [...]oole somewhat. I am horribly troubled with the gowt, nothing grieues me but that my doctor hath forbidden me wine, and you know your Ambassador must drinke. Didst thou aske thy doctor what was good for the gowt?

Yes, hee saide, e [...]s [...], wine and women, were good for it.

Nay, thou hast such a witte, what was good to cure i [...], said he?

Why the racke [...]al your Empericks could neuer do the like cure vpon the gowt the racke did in England: or your Scotch boote. The French Herlakeene will instruct you.

Surely I doe wonder, how thou hauing, for the most parte of thy life time beene a countrey body, shouldest haue so good a wit.

Who I? why I haue beene a Courtier thrise two mo­neths.

So haue I this twentie yeare, and yet there was a gen­tleman vsher cald me cocks-coombe tother day, and to my face too: wast not a backe-biting rascall? I would I were better tra­uaild, that I might haue beene better acquainted with the fashi­ons of seuerall country-men: but my Secretary, I thinke he hath sufficiently instructed me.

How my Lord?

Mary my good Lord quoth hee, your Lordship shall euer finde amongst a hundred French-men, fortie hot shottes: amongst a hundred Spaniardes, threescore bragarts: amongst a hundred Dutch-men, fourescore drunkardes: amongst a hun­dred English-men, fourescore and ten mad-men: and amongst an hundred Welch-men.

What my Lord?

Fourescore and nineteene gentlemen.

But since you go about a sad imbasie, I would haue you go in blacke my Lord.

Why doost thinke I cannot mourne, vnlesse I weare my hat in cipers like an Aldermans heire, that's vile, very olde, in faith.

Ile learne of you shortly; O wee should haue a fine gal­lant of you, should not I instruct you: how will you beare your selfe when you come into the Duke of Florence Court?

Prowde ynough, and t' will do well ynough; as I walke vp and downe the chamber, Ile spit f [...]ownes about me, haue a strong perfume in my jerkin, let my beard grow to make me looke terrible, salute no man beneath the fourth button, and t'will do excellent.

But there is a very beautifull Lady there, how will you entertaine her?

Ile tell you that when the Lady hath entertainde me: but to satisfie thee, heere comes the foole: foole thou shalt stand for the faire Lady.

Your foole will stand for your Lady most willingly and most vprightly.

Ile salute her in Latine.

O your foole can vnderstand no Latine.

I but your Lady can.

Why then if your Lady take downe your foole, your foole will stand no longer for your Lady.

A pestilent foole: fore God I thinke the world be turnde vp [...]side downe too.

O no sir, for then your Lady, and all the Ladies in the pallace should goe with their heeles vpward, and that were a strange sight you know.

There be many will repine at my preferment.

O I, like the enuie of an elder sister that hath her yonger made a Lady before her.

The Duke is wondrous discontented.

I, and more melancholike, then a vsurer hauing all his mony out at the death of a Prince.

Didst thou see Madam Floria to day?

Yes, I found her repairing her face to day, the red vpo [...] the white shewed as if her cheekes should haue beene serued in for two dishes of Barbaries in stewed broth, and the flesh to them a wood-cocke.

A bitter fowle: Come Madam, this night thou shalt in­ioy me freely, and to morrow for Florence.

What a naturall foole is hee that would be a paire of bo­dies to a womans petti-cote, to bee trusst and pointed to them. Well, Ile dog my Lord, and the word is proper: for when I fawne vpon him hee feedes me; when I snap him by the fingers, hee spittes in my mouth. If a dogges death were not strangling, I had rather bee one then a feruing-man: for the corruption of coine, is either the generation of a vsurer, or a lowsie beggar.

SCENA SECVNDA.

Maleuole.

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

I am going Ambassadour to Florence.

Ambassadour? now for thy countries honour: prethee do not put vp mutton & porridge in thy cloke-bagge: thy yong Lady wife goes to Florence with thee too, dooes she not?

No, I leaue her at the pallace.

At the pallace? now discretion sheelde man, for Gods loue lets ha no more cuckolds: Hymen beginnes to put off his saf­fron robe, keepe thy wife i'the state of grace, hart a truth, I would sooner leaue my Ladie singled in a Bordello, then in the Genoa Pallace, sinne there appearing in her [...]luttish shape,

Soft rest, sweete musicke, amorous Masquerers, lasciuious ban­quets, sinne it selfe gilt o're, strong phantafie tricking vp strange delightes, presenting it dressed pleasingly to sence, sence leading it vnto the soule, confirmed with potent example, impudent cu­stome, inticed by that great bawde Opportunitie, thus being pre­parde, clap to her easie eare, youth in good clothes, well shapt, rich, faire-spoken, promising-noble, ardent blood-full, wittie, flattering: V [...]isses absent, O Ithacan, chastest Penelope hold out.

Masse Ile thinke on't, farewell.

SCENA TERTIA.

My honourde Lord.

Celso peace, how ist? speake low, pale feares suspect that hedges, walles and trees haue eares: speake, how runnes all?

Is Ferneze interred?

Of that at leisure: he liues.

But how standes Mendoza, how ist with him?

Faith like a paire of snuffers, snibbes filth in other men, and retaines it in it selfe.

He doo's flie from publike notice me thinkes, as a hare do's from houndes, the feete whereon he flies betraies him.

Hee's heere.

Where hast thou spent thy selfe this morning? I see flattery in thine eies, and damnation in thy soule. Ha thou huge rascall▪

Thou art very merry.

As a scholler futuens gratis: How dooth the diuell goe 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 doe bum-crackes.

Thou hast lost his amitie.

As pleasing as maids loose their virginitie.

Would thou wert of a lusty spirit, wold 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 [...]eat my Shoomaker, knockt my Semsters, cuckold my Poteca­ry▪ and vndone my Tayler. Noble, why not? since the Sto [...]cke saide, Neminem seruum non ex regibus, neminem regem non ex seruis esse [...]ri [...]ndum, only busie fortune towses, and the prouident chan­ces blends them together; ile giue you a simil [...]; Did you ere see a wel with two buckets, whilst one comes vp ful to be emptied, an­other goes downe empty to be filled; such is the state of all huma­nitie: why looke you, I may be the son of some Duke; for beleeue me, intemperate lasciuious bastardy makes Nobil [...]tie doubtfull: I haue a lusty daring heart Mendoza.

Let's graspe, I doe like thee infinitely, wilt inact one thing for me?

Murther the Duke.

The Duke is now a hunting.

Excellent, admirable, as the diuell would haue it, lend me, lend me, Rapier, Pistoll, Crossebow; so, so, ile doe it.

Then we agree.

As Lent & fishmongers, come a cape a pe, how in form

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 mee after his lifes full poynt.

Vpon what merite?

Merite! by heauen I horne him, onely Ferne [...] ae [...] death gaue me states life: tut we are politique, hee must not liue now.

No reason mary: but how must he die now?

My vtmost proiect is to murder the Duke, that I might haue his state, because he makes me his heire; to banish the du­chesse, that I might be rid of a cunning Lacedemonian, because I know Florence will forsake her, and then to marry Maria the banished duke Altofr [...]nts wife, that her friends might strengthen me and my faction; this is all lawe.

Do you loue Maria?

Faith no great affection, but as wise men do loue great women, to innoble their bloud, and augment their reuenew [...] to accomplish this now, thus now. The Duke is in the forrest next the Sea, single him, kill him, hurle him in the maine, and pro­claime thou sawest woolues eate him.

Vm, not so good: mee thinkes when he is slaine, to get some hipocrite, some daungerous wretch thats muffled, or with fained holines, to sweare he heard the duke on some stiepe cliffe lament his wifes dishonour, and in an agony of his hearts tor­ture hurled his groaning sides into the [...]wolne sea: This circum­stance wel made, sounds probable: and hereupon the Dutches.

May well be banished: O vnpeerable invention [...]tare, Thou god of pollicie, it honies, me.

Then feare not for the wife of Al [...]ofront, ile close to her.

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

Nay, make me some rich knaue, and [...]le make my selfe some great man.

In thee be all my spirit, retaine tenne soules, vnite thy virtuall powers; resolue, ha, remember greatnes: heart, farewell

SCENA QVARTA

The dogges are at a fault.

Would God nothing but the dogges were at it? let the Deere pursue safely, the dogs follow the game, and doe you fol­low the dogges; as for me, tis vnfit one beast should hunt an o­ther; I ha one chaseth me: and 't please you, I would be ridde of you a little.

Would your griefe would as soone leaue you as we to quietnesse.

I thanke you; boy, what doost thou dreame of now?

Of a drie summer my Lord, for heere's a hote worlde to­wardes: but my Lord, I had a strange dreame last night.

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 duetie: but still I dreamt on my Lord, and mee thought, and 't shall please your excellencie, you would needs out of your royall bounty giue me that jewell in your hat.

O thou didst but dreame boy, do not beleeue it, dreames prooue not alwayes true, they may hold in a short sword, but not in a jewell. But now sir, you dreamt you had pleased mee with singing, make that true as I haue made the other.

Faith my Lord, I did but dreame, and dreames you say prooue not alwayes true: they may hold in a good sword, but [Page] not in a good song: the trueth is, I ha lost my voyce.

Lost thy voyce, how?

With dreaming faith, but heere's a couple of Syrenicall rascalls shall inchaunt yee: what shall they sing my good Lorde?

Sing of the nature of women, and then the song shall be surely full of varietie; olde crochets and most sweete closes, it shalbe humorous, graue, fantastike, amorous, melancoly, spright­ly, one in all, and all in one.

All in one?

Birlady too many; sing, my speech growes culpable of vnthrifty idlenesse, sing.

SCENA QVINTA.

A, so, so, sing, I am heauie, walke off, I shall talke in my sleep; walke off.

Briefe, briefe, who? the Duke? good heauen that fooles should stumble vpon greatnesse! do not sleepe Duke, giue yee good morrow: you must be bri [...]fe Duke; I am feeed to mur­ther thee, start not: Mendoza, Mendoza hired mee, heere's his gold, his pistoll, crossebow, and sword, tis all as firme as earth: O foole, foole, choakt with the common maze of easie ideots, Cre­dulitie, ma [...]e him thine heire: what thy sworne murtherer?

O can it be?

Can?

Discouered he not Ferneze?

Yes; but why, but why, for loue to thee; much, much, to be reuenged vpon his riuall, who had thrust his jawes awrie, who being slaine, supposed by thine owne handes; defended by his sword, made thee most loathsome, him most gratious with thy loose Princesse, thou closely yeelding egr [...]sse and regresse to her, madest him heire, whose hote vnquiet lust strait towzde thy sheetes, and now would seize thy state, polititian, wise man, death to be led to the stake like a bull by the hornes, to make e­uen kindnesse cutte a gentle throate; l [...]fe, why art thou nummed? thou foggie dulnesse, speake: liues not more faith in a home­ [...]hiusting tongne, than in th [...]se 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 whither wilt thou?

SCE. PRIMA.

Medam, Medam, are you stirring Medam? if you bee stirring Medam, if I thought I should disturbe yee.

My Lady is vp forsooth.

A pretty boy, faith how old art thou?

I thinke fou [...]eteene.

Nay, and yee bee in the teenes: are yee a gentleman borne? do you know me? my name is Medam Maquerelle, I lie in the old cunny court.

See heere the Ladies.

A faire day to yee Maquarelle.

Is the Dutches vp yet Centinell?

O Ladies, the most abhomin [...]ble mischance, O deare Ladies, the most piteous disaster, Ferneze 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 certaintie is, the doore was not bolted, the tongue [...]tied hatch held his peace: so the naked troth is, he was found in his shirt, whilst I like an arrand beast, lay in the outward chamber, heard nothing, and yet they came by mee in the dark, and yet I felt them not, like a sencelesse creature as I was. O beauties, looke to your buske-pointes, if not chastely, yet cha­rily: be sure the doore bee bolted: is your Lord gone to Florences?

Yes Maquarelle.

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

Is the Duke returnd from hunting yet?

They say not yet.

Tis now in midst of day.

How beares the Dutches with this blemish now?

Faith boldly, strongly defies defame, as one that haz a Duke to her father. And theres a note to you: be sure of a stowt friend in a corner, that may alwaies awe your husband. Marke the hauior of the Dut [...]hes now: she dares defame, cries Duke, do what thou canst, Ile quite mine honour: nay, as one confirmed in her owne vertue against ten thousand mouthes that mutter her disgrace, shee's presently for dances.

For dances?

Most true.

Most strange: see, heere's my seruant young Ferrard: how many seruants thinkst thou I haue Maquerelle?

The more, the merrier: t'was well said; vse your seruants as you do your smockes, haue many, vse one, and change often, for thats most sweete and courtlike.

Saue ye faire Ladies, is the Duke returned?

Sweete sir no voice of him as yet in Court.

T is very strange.

And how like you my seruant Maquorelle?

I thinke he could hardely draw Vlisses bow, but by my fidelitie, 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, he were a tollerable sweete youth yfaith. And he will come to my chamber, I will reade him the fortune of his beard.

SCENA SECVNDA.

We will dance, musicke, we will dance.

Les quanto (Ladie) pens [...]s bien, passaregis, or Beanch [...]es brawle.

We haue forgot the brawle.

So soone? t'is wonder.

Why? t'is but two singles on the left, two on the right, three doubles forward, a trauerse of six round: do this twice, three singles side, galliard tricke of twentie, curranto pace; a figure of eight, three singles broken downe, come vp, meete two doubles, fall backe, and then honour.

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

Trust me so haue I, sauing the falling backe, and then honour.

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.

Wee are not pleased with yo [...]r intrusion vppon our priuate retirement: wee are not pleased: you haue forgot your selues.

Boy, thy master: where's the Duke?

Alas, I left him burying the earth with his spread ioy­lesse limbes: he tolde me, he was heauie, would sleepe, bid mee walke off, for that the strength of fantasie, oft made him talke in his dreames: I straight obeied, not euer saw him since: but where so e're he is, hee's sad.

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

SCENA TERTIA.

The Duke, peace, the Duke is dead.

Musicke.

Is't 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: mary heere's one can giue you a more particular account of him.

Speake holy father, nor let any browe within this [Page] \presence fright thee from the truth: speake confidently & freely.

We attend.

Now you egregious diuell, ha ye murthering Polititian, how doost Duke? how doost looke now? braue Duke yfaith.

How did you kill him?

Slatted his braines o [...]t, then sowft him in the brinie sea.

Braind him and drownd him too▪

O t'was best, sure worke:

For he that strikes a great man, let him srtike home, or elseware, hee'le proue no man: shoulder not a huge fellow, vnlesse you may be sure to lay him in the kennell.

To the gallowes say ye? Come: Praemium incertum petit certum scelus. How standes the Prog [...]esse?

Ile make an excellent pander: Duke farewell, due, adue Duke.

Go to then, thou must know that Maleuole is a strange villaine: dangerous, very dangerous: you see how broad a speakes, a grosse jawde rogue, I would haue thee poison him: hee [...]s like a corne vpon my great toe, I cannot go for him: he must be kored out▪ he must: wilt doo't, ha?

Your diuelships [...]ing haz no vertue, the buffe-captaine, the sallo-westfalian gamon-faced zaza cries, stand out must haue a stiffer warrant, or no passe into the Castle of Comfort.

Command our suddaine Letter: not enter? shat, what place is there in Genoa, but thou shalt, into my heart, into my very heart: come, lets loue, we must loue, we two▪ so [...]le and body.

How didst like the Hermite? a strange Hermite sirrah.

A dangerous fellow, very perilcus: he must die.

I, he must die.

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

And prouident.

SCENA QVARTA.

O do no [...] rand, do not turne plaier, there's more of them than can well liue one by another alreadie.

I am amazde, strucke in a swowne with wonder: I am commanded to poison thee.

I am commanded to poison thee at supper.

At supper?

In the Citadell.

In the Citadell?

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

All 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 friends.

Thy friends?

Yes, from my friends, for from mine enemies ile de­liuer my selfe. O, cutte-throate friendship is the ranckest vila­nie: Marke this Mendoza, marke him for a villaine; but heauen will send a plague vpon him for a rogue.

O world!

World! Tis the only 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.

Soule lurke in shades, run shame from brightsome skies, In night the blinde man misseth not his eyes.

Doe not weepe▪ kinde cuckolde, take comfort man, thy betters haue beene Beccoes: Agamemnon Emperour of all the merry Greekes that tickeled all the true Troyans, was a 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 Corn [...]to: patience, mischiefe growes prowde, be wise.

Thou pinchest too deepe, arte too keene vpon me.

Tut, a pittifull Surgeon makes a dangerous sore. Ile tent thee to the ground. Thinkest Ile sustaine my selfe by flatter­ing thee, because thou art a Prince? I had rather followe a drun­kard, and hue by licking vp his vomite, than by seruile flattery.

Yet great men ha doon't.

Gr [...]at slaues feare better than loue, borne naturally for a coale-basket, though the common vsher of Princes presence fortune hath blindely giuen them better place, I am vowed to be thy affliction.

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

Well returnde, 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 ban [...]shing his blouds dishonour, and that Duke Altofront be re-accepted: this is all, but I heare Duke Pietro is dead.

I, and Mendoza is Duke, what will you do?

Is Mendeza strongest?

Yet he is.

Then yet Ile holde with him.

But if that A [...]tofrom should turne strait againe?

What religion wil you be of now?

Of the Dukes religion, when I know what it is▪

O Hercules!

Hercules? Hercules was the sonne of Iupiter and Alk­mena.

Your lordship is a very wittall.

Wittall?

I, all-wit.

Amphitrio was a cuckolde.

Your lordship sweats, your yong Lady will gette you a cloth for your olde worships browes.

[Page] Heeres a fellow to be damned, this is his inuiolable maxime, (flat­ter the greatest, and oppresse the least:) a whoreson flesh-fly, [...]at still gnawes vpon the leane gawld backes.

Why doost then salute him?

Yfaith as bawdes goe to church, for fashion sake: come, be not confounded, thou arte but in danger to loose a dukedome: thinke this: This earth is the only graue and Golgotha wherein all things that liue must rot: tis but the draught wherein the hea­uenly bodies discharge their corruption, the very muckhill on which the sublunarie orbes cast their excrements: man is the slime of this dongue [...]pit, and Princes are the governors of these men: for, for our soules, they are as free as Emperours, all of one peece, there goes but a paire of sheeres betwixt an Emperor and the sonne of a bagge piper, onely the dying, dressing, pressing, glossing makes the difference: now what arte thou like to loose?

Banish amazeme [...]t; co [...]e, we foure must stand full shocke of Fortune, be not so wonder-st [...]icken.

Dooth Ferneze liue?

For your pardon.

SCENA I.

Foole, how doost thou like my calfe in a long stocking?

An [...]xcellent calfe my Lord.

This calfe hath beene a reueller this twenty yeere, when monsieur Gundi lay heere Ambassadour, I could have carried a Lady vp and downe at armes end in a platter; and I can tell you there were those at that time, who to trie the str [...]ngth of a mans backe, and his arme, would be coisterd: I have measured calues with most of the pallace, and they come nothing neere m [...]e; be­sides, I thinke there be not many armours in the Arsinall will fitte me, especially for the head-pe [...]ce. Ile tell thee.

What my Lord?

I can eate stewd broath as it comes seething off the fire; or a custard, as it comes reeking out of the oven; and I thinke there are not many Lordes can doe it: a good pomander alittle decayed in the scent, but six graines of muske grownd with rose­water, and temperd with alittle ciuit, shall fetch her againe pre­sently.

O I, as a bawde with aqua vitae.

And what doost thou raile vppon the Ladies as thou wert wont?

I were better roast a liue [...]at, and might doe it with more safety. I am as secret to thieues as their painting: theres Maquarelle oldest bawde, and a perpetuall beggar. Did you ne­ver heare of her ticke to be knowne in the Cittie?

Neuer.

Why she gets all the Picter-makers to draw her pic­ture, when they haue done, she most courtly findes fault with them one after another, and neuer fetcheth them: they in re­uenge of this, execute her in Pictures as they doe in Germanie, and hang her in their shops: by this meanes is she better knowne to the stinkards, then if shee had beene fiue times carted.

Fore God and excellent policie.

Are there any Reuels to night my Lord.

Yes.

Good my Lord giue me leaue to breake a fellows pate that hath abused me.

Whose pate.

Young Ferrard my Lord.

Take heed hee's very valiant, I haue knowne him fight eight quarrels in fiue dayes, beleeue it.

O is he so great a quarrelle? why then hees an ar­rant coward.

How prooue you that?

Why thus, He that quarrels seekes to fight; and he that [...] to fight, seekes to dye; and he that seek [...] to dye, seekes neuer to fight more; and he that will quarrell and seekes meanes neuer to answer a man more, I thinke hees a [...]oward.

Thou canst prooue any thing.

Any thing but a ritch knaue, for I can flatter no man.

Well be not drunke good foole, I shall see you anon in the presence.

The Dutchm [...]n for a drunkard.

The Daue 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, [Page] thou art a melodious Maquerelle, thou picture of a woman, and substance of a beast.

O foole will ye be ready anon to go with me to the reuels; the hal will be so pestred anone.

I as the countrie is with Atturnies.

What hast thou there foole.

Wine, I haue learnt to drink since I went with my Lord Embassador, Ile drinke to the health of madam maque­relle.

why thou wast wont to raile vppon her.

Giue me the boule I drinke a health to Altofront out deposed duke.

Ile take it so [...]now ile begin a health to madam Ma­querelle.

Pew I will not pledge her.

Why I pledgd your Lord.

I care not.

Not pledge madam Maquerelle, why then will I spew vp your Lord againe with this fooles finger.

Hould Ile take it.

Now thou hast drunke my health; foole I am friends with thee.

And how doost thou thinke a this transformation of state now.

Verily very well, for we women alwayes note, the [Page] falling of the one, is the rising of the other: some must be fatt, some must be leane, some must be fooles, and some must be Lordes, some must be knaues, and some must be officers: some must be beggars, some must be Knights: some must be cuckoldes, and some must be cittizens: as for example, I haue two court dogges the most fawning curres, the one called Watch, th'other Catch: now I, like lady For­tune, sometimes loue this dogge, somtimes raise that dogge, sometimes fauour Watch, most commonly fancic Catch: now that dogge which I fauour I feede, and hee's so ra­uenous, that what I giue he neuer chawes it, gulpes it downe whole, without any relish of what he haz, but with a greedy expectation of what he shall haue: the other dogge, now:

No more dog, sweete Maquarelle, no more dog: and what hope hast thou of the dutchesse Maria, will shee stoope to the Dukes lewre, will she cowe think [...]t?

Let mee see, where's the signe now? ha ye ere a ca­lender, where's the signe trow you.

Signe! why is there any moment in that?

O! beleeue me a most secret power, looke yee a Chaldean or an Assyrian, I am sure t'was a most sweete lew tolde me, court any woman in the right signe, you shall not misse: but you must take her in the right vaine then: as when the signe is in Pisces, a Fishmongers wife is very so­ciable: in Cancer, a Precisians wife is very flexible: in Ca­pricorne, a Merchants wife hardly holdes out: in Libra, a Lawyers wife is very tractable, especially, if her husband bee at the terme: onely in Scorpio t'is very dangerous medling: haz the Duke sent any iewel, any rich stones?

I, I thinke those are the best signes to take a lady in. By your fauour signeor, I must discourse with the Lady Maria, Altofronts dutches: I must enter for the Duke.

Shee heere shall giue you enterview: I receiued the guardship of this Citadell from the good Altofront, and for [Page] his vse Ile keep't till I am of no vse.

Wilt thou? O heauens, that a christian should be found in a Buffe jerkin! captaine Conscience: I loue thee Captaine.

We attend,& what hope hast thou of this Dutches easinesse?

T'will goe hard, shee was a colde creature euer, she hated monkies, fooles, jeasters, & gentlemen-vshers extream­ly: shee had the vilde trick on't, not onely to be truely modest­ly honourable in her owne co [...]science, but she would auoyde the least wanton carriage that might-incurre suspect, as God blesse me, she had almost brought bed pressing out of fashion: I could scarse 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?

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 ha nere a husband, as a banisht husband, hee's in an other world now. Ile tell yee Lady, I haue heard of a sect that maintained, when the husband was a sleepe, 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 constancy? but fables fained, odde old fooles chat, deuisde by iealous fooles, to wrong our liberty.

Mully, he that loues thee, is a Duke, Mendoza, he will maintaine thee royally, loue thee ardently, defend thee power­fully, [Page] marry thee sumptuously, & keep thee in despite of Rosci­clere or Dōzel del Phoebo: thers jewels, if thou wilt, so; if not, so.

Now the feare of the diuell for euer goe with thee. Marquerelle 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 saints, some-sinners: for as now adaies, no Courtier but haz his mis [...]ris, no Captaine but haz his cockatrice, no Cuckold but haz his hornes, & no foole but haz his feather: euen so, no womā but haz her weakenes & feather too, no sex but haz his: I can hunt the letter no farder: ô God, how loathsome this toying is to me, that a duke should be forc'd to foole it: well, Stultorum plena sunt omnia, better play the foole Lord, then be the foole Lord: now, where's your slights Madam Maquarelle?

Why, are yee ignorant that tis sed, a squemish affec­ted nicences is naturall to women, and that the excuse of their yeelding, is onely (forsooth) the difficult obtaining. You must put her too't: women are flaxe, and will fire in a moment.

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

[Page] Go thou the Dukes lime-twig, Ile make the Duke turne thee out of thine office. what, not get one touch of hope, & had her at such aduantage.

Now a my conscience, now I thinke in my discre­tion, we did not take her in the right signe, the bloud was not in the true veine, sure.

Make way there the Duke returnes from the inthronmēt Maleuole.

Out roage.

Maleuole.

Hence yee grosse iawd pessantly, out go.

Nay sweete Maleuole, since my returne, I heare you are become the thinge I alwayes prophesied would be, an ad­vanced virtue, a worthely imployed faithfulnesse a man a grace, deere friend.

Come; what? Si quoties peccant homines. If as often as cour­tiers play the knaues honest men should be angrie. Why looke yee, we must collouge sometimes, forsweare sometimes.

Be damd somtimes.

Right Nemo omnibus horis sapit. No man can be honest at all howers. Necessitie often depraues vertue.

I will commend thee to the Duke.

Do let vs be friends man.

And knaues man.

Right, let vs prosper and purchase, our lordships shall liue and our knauery be forgotten.

He that by any wayes gets riches his meanes neuer shames him.

True.

For impudencie and faithlesnes are the maine stayes to greatnesse.

By the Lord thou art a profound ladd.

By the Lord thou art a perfect knaue. out yee antient damnatiō.

Peace, peace, and thou wilt not be a freinde to me as I am a knaue, be not a knaue to me as I am thy friend and disclose me, peace Cornets.

SCENA TERTIA.

On on, leaue vs leaue vs: stay, wher is the Hermet?

With Duke Pietro, with Duke Pietro.

Is he dead? is he poysoned?

Dead as the Duke is,

Good, excellent: he will not blabbe, securenes liues in secresie, come hether, come hether.

Thou hast a certaine strong villanous sent about thee, my nature cannot indure.

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

Cold frostie, she is obstinate,

Pew, per scelera semper sceleribus tutum est iter.

What art a scholler? art a polititian? sure thou art an arrand knaue.

Who I? I haue bene twice an vnder sherife, man.

Hast bin with Maria.

As your scriuener to your vsurer I haue delt about ta­king of this commoditie, but shes could-frosty.

well I will go raile vpon some great man, that I may purchase the bastinado, or else go marry some rich Genoan lady and in­stantly go trauaile.

Trauaile when thou art married.

I tis your yong Lords fashion to do so, though he was so lafy being a batcheller, that he would neuer trauaile so farr as the Vniuersity yet when he married her tales of, and Catsoe for Ingland.

And why for Ingland.

Because there is no Prothelhouses there.

Nor Curtisans.

Neather; your whore went downe with the stewes and your punke came vp with your Puritan.

Canst thou impoyson? canst thou impoyson?

Excellently, no lew, Potecary, or Politian better▪ looke ye, her's a box, whō wouldst thou impoison? her's a box which opened, & the fume taken vp in condites, thorow which the braine purges it self, doth instantly for 12. houres space, bind vp all shew of li [...]e in a deep cesles sleep: heres another which being [Page] opened vnder the sleepers nose, choaks al the power of life, kils him sodainely.

Ile try experiments,See [...] to poyso [...] Maleuole. tis good not to be deceiued: so, so, Catzo.

My honored Lord.

The good Maleuole, that plain-tongued man, alas, is dead on sodaine wondrous strangely, he held in our esteeme good place. Celso see him buried, see him buried.

I shall obserue yee.

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

Death of the damn'd thiefe:Starts vp and speaks. Ile make one i'the maske, thou shalt ha some

My Lord, what strange dilusion?

Most happy, deere Celso, poisond with an empty box? Ile giue thee all anone: my [...]ady comes to court, there is a whurle 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, will not ye suffer the Ladies to be entred in the great chamber? why gallants? and you sir, to droppe your Torch where the beauties must sit too,

And there's a great fellow playes the knaue, why dost not str [...]ke 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 bee othes enow readie at the doore, sweare out the diuell himself, Lets leaue the Ladies, and go see if the Lords bee readie for them.

And by my troth Beauties, why do you not put you into the fashion, this is a stale cut, you must come in fa­shion: looke ye, you must be all felt, fealt and feather, a fealt vpon your bare haire: looke ye, these tiring thinges are iustly out of request now: and do ye heare? you must weare falling bands, you must come into the falling fashion: there is such a deale a pinning these ruffes, when the fine cleane fall is worth all: and a gen, if you should chance to take a nap in the afternoone, your falling band requires no poting sticke to re­couer his forme beleeue me, no fashion to the falling I say.

And is not sinnior S. Andrew a gallant fellow now.

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

But is not Marshall Make-rome my seruant in reuer­sion, [Page] a proper gentleman.

Yes in reuersion as he had his office, as in truth he hath all things in reuersion: hee haz his Mistris in reuersion, his cloathes in reuersion, his wit in reuersion: and indeede is a suter to me, for my dogge in reuersion: but in good verity la, he is as proper a gentleman in reuersion as: and indeede, as fine a man as may be, hauing a red beard and a pair of wrapt legges.

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

He is euen one of the most busy fingered Lordes, 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 Ladyes there. So, cornets, cornets.

SCENA QVARTA.

Weele checke your too intemperate lauishnesse [Page] I can will.

Are you God of ghosts, I haue a sute depending in hell betwixt me and my conscience, I would faine haue thee helpe me to an aduocate.

Mercurie shall be your lawyer, Lady.

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

Peace, forbeare: Mercurie presents the maske.

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

With me Sir?Maleuole takes his wife to daunce.

Then weele agree.

Beleeue it Lady,To Bean­cha. shall I sweare, let me injoy you in priuate, and Ile mary you by my soule.

I had rather you would sweare by your body: I thinke 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.

[...]a [...]th, sweet creature, let me injoy you to night, and Ile mary you to morow fortnight, by my troth la.

On his troth la, beleeue him not, that kinde of cun­nica [...]ching is as stale as sir Oliuer Anchoues persumde ierken: promise of matrimony by a yong 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 ielosie to a Citizen, gluttony ot a Puritan, wisdome to an Alderman, pride to a Tayler, or an empty handbasket to one of these sixpeny damnations: of his troth la, beleeue him not, traps to catch polecats.

Keepe your face constant,To Mar [...]a▪ let no suddaine passion speake in your eies.

O my Altofront.

Peace, next change, no words.

Speach to such, ay, O what will affordes?

Maleuole?

No.

Altofront, Duke Pietro, Ferneze. hah?

Duke Altofront, Duke Altofront.

Are we surprizde? what strange delusions mo [...]ke Our sences, do I dreame? or haue I dreamt.

This two dayes space? where am I?

Ignoble villaine, whom neither heauen nor hell, goodnesse of God or man, could once make good.

Base treacherous wretch, what grace canst thou ex­pect That [...] growne impudent in gracel [...]snesse.

O good my Lord, I have liued in the Court this twenty yeare, they that haue beene olde Courtiers and come to liue in the Cittie, they are spighted at and thrust to the wals like Apricokes, good my Lord.

My Lord, I did know your Lordship in this disguise, you heard me euer say if Altofront did returne I would stand for him: besides twas your Lordships pleasure to call me Wittol and Cuckold; you must not thinke but that I knew you I would haue put it vp so patiently.