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THE FATALL DOVVRY: A TRAGEDY.

As it hath beene often Acted at the Pri∣uate House in Blackefryers, by his Maiesties Seruants.

Written by P. M. and N. F.

LONDON, Printed by IOHN NORTON, for FRANCIS CONSTABLE, and are to be sold at his shop at the Crane, in Pauls Church∣yard. 1632.

Charalois. Romont. Charmi. Nouall Sen. Liladam. Du Croy. Rochfort. Baumnt. Pontalier. Maltin. Beaumelle. Florimel. Bellapert. Aymer Nouall Iun. Aduocates. Creditors 3. Officers, Priest. Taylor. Barber. Perfumer. First Song. FIe, cease to wonder, Though you heare Orpheus with his Iuory Lute, Moue Trees and Rockes, Charme Buls, Beares, and men more sauage to be mute, Weake foolish singer, here is one, Would haue transform'd thy selfe, to stone. Second Song. A Dialogue betweene Nouall, and Beaumelle. Man. SEt Phoebus, set, a fayrer sunne doth rise, From the bright Radience of my M^rs. eyes then euer thou begat's I dare not looke, each haire a golden line, Each word a hooke, The more I striue, the more still I am tooke. Wom Fayre seruant, come, the day these eyes doe lend To warme thy blood, thou doest so vainely spend. Come strangled breath. Man. What noate so sweet as this, That calles the spirits to a further blisse? Wom. Yet this out-sauours wine, and this Perfume Man. Let's die, I languish, I consume, Cittizens Song of the Courtier. COurtier, if thou needs wilt wiue, From this lesson leare to thriue. If thou match a Lady, that passes thee in birth and state, Let her curious garments be Twice aboue thine owne degree; This will draw great eyes vpon her, Get her seruants and thee honour. Courtiers Song of the Citizen. POore Citizen, if thou wilt be A happy husband, learne of me; To set thy wife first in thy shop, A faire wife, a kinde wife, a sweet wife, sets a poore man vp. What though thy shelues be ne're so bare: A woman still is currant ware: Each man will cheapen, foe, and friend, But whilst thou art at tother end, What ere thou seest, or what dost heare, Foole, 'haue no eye to, nor an eare; And after supper for her sake, When thou hast fed, snort, though thou wake: What though the Gallants call thee mome? Yet with thy lanthorne light her home: Then looke into the towne and tell, If no such Tradesmen there doe dwell. The Fatall Dowry: A Tragedy. Act. primus. Scaena prima. Enter Charaloyes with a paper, Romont, Charmi. Charmi. SIR, I may moue the Court to serue your will But therein shall both wrong you and my selfe. Rom. Why thinke you so sir? Charmi. 'Cause I am familiar With what will be their answere: they will say, Tis against law, and argue me of Ignorance For offering them the motion. Rom. You know not, Sir How in this cause they may dispence with Law, And therefore frame not you their answere for them, But doe your parts. Charmi. I loue the cause so well, As I could runne, the hazard of a checke for't. Rom. From whom? Charmi. Some of the bench, that watch to giue it, More then to doe the office that they sit for: But giue me (sir) my fee. Rom. Now you are Noble. Charmi. I shall deserue this better yet, in giuing My Lord some counsell, (if he please to heare it) Then I shall doe with pleading. Rom. What may it be, sir? Charmi. That it would please his Lordship, as the Presi∣dents, And Counsaylors of Court come by, to stand Heere, and but shew your selfe, and to some one Or two, make his request: there is a minute When a mans presence speakes in his owne cause, More then the tongues of twenty aduocates. Rom. I haue vrg'd that. Enter Rochfort: Du Croye. Charmi. Their Lordships here are comming, I must goe get me a place, you'l finde me in Court, And at your seruice. Exit Charmi, Rom. Now put on your Spirits. Du Croy. The ease that you prepare your selfe, my Lord, In giuing vp the place you hold in Court, Will proue (I feare) a trouble in the State, And that no slight one. Roch. Pray you sir, no more. Rom. Now sir, lose not this offerd meanes: their lookes Fixt on you, with a pittying earnestnesse, Inuite you to demand their furtherance To your good purpose.—This such a dunesse So foolish and vntimely as— Du. Croy. You know him. Roch. I doe, and much lament the sudden fall Of his braue house, It is young Charloyes. Sonne to the Mashall, from whom he inherits His ame and vertues onely. Rom. Ha, hey name you. Du Croye. His father died in prison two daies since. Roch. Yes, to the shame of this vngratefull State That such a Master in the art of warre, So noble, and so highly meriting, From this forgetfull Country, hould, for want Of meanes to satisfie his creditors, The summes he tooke vp for the generall good, Meet with an end so infamous. Rom. Dare you euer hope for like oportunity? Du Croye. My good Lord! Roch. My wish bring comfort to you. Du Croye. The time calls vs. Roch. Good morrow Colonell. Exeunt Roch. Du Cry. Rom. This obstinate spleene, You thinke becomes your sorrow, and sorts wel With your blacke suits: but grant me wit, or iudgement, And by the freedome of an honest man, And a true friend to boote, I sweare 'tis shamefull. And therefore flatter not your selfe with hope, Your sable habit, with the hat and cloake, No though the ribons helpe, haue power to worke'em To what you would: for those that had no eyes, To see the great acts of your father, will not, From any fashion sorrow can put on, Bee taught to know their duties. Char. If they will not, They are too old to learne, and I too young To giue them counsell, since if they partake The vnderstanding, and the hearts of men, They will preuent my words and teares: if nt, What can perswasion, though made eloquent With griefe, worke vpon such as haue chang'd natures With the most sauage beast? Blest, blest be euer The memory of that happy age, when iustice Had no gards to keepe off wrongd innocence, From flying to her succours, and in that Assurance of redresse: where now (Roment) The damnd, with more ease may asend from Hell, Thn we ariue at her. One Cerberus there Forbids the passage, in our Courts a thousand, As lowd, and fertyle headed, and the Client That wants the sops, to fill their rauenous throats, Must hope for no accesse: why should I then Attempt impossibilities: you friend, being Too well acquainted with my dearth of meanes To make my entrance that way? Rom. Would I were not. But Sir, you haue a cause, a cause so iust, Of such necessitie, not to be deferd, As would compell a mayde, whose foot was neuer Set ore her fathers threshold, nor within The house where she was borne, euer spake word, Which was not vshered with pure virgin blushes, To drowne the tempest of a pleaders tongue, And force corruption to giue backe the hire It tooke against her: let examples moue you. You see great men in birth, esteeme and fortune, Rather then lose a scruple of their right, Fawne basely vpon such, whose gownes put off, They would disdaine for Seruants. Char. And to these can I become a suytor? Rom. Without losse, Would you consider, that to gaine their fauors, Or chastst dames put off their modesties, Soldiers forget their honos, vsurers Make sacrifice of Gold, poets of wit, And men religious, part with fame, and goodnesse? Be therfore wonne to vse the meanes, that may Aduace your pious ends. Char. You shall orecome. Rom. And you receiue the glory, pray you now practise. 'Tis well. Enter Old Nouall, Liladam, & 3 Creditors. Char. No looke on me! Rom. You ust haue patience—Offer't againe. Char. And be againe contemn'd? Nou. I know whats to be done. 1 Cred. And that your Lordship Will please to do your knowledge, we offer, first Our thankefull hearts heere, as a bounteous earnest To what we will adde Nou. One word more of this I am your enemie. Am I a man Your bribes can worke on? ha? Lilad. Friends, you mistake The way to winne my Lord, he must not heare this, But I, as one in fauour, in his sigh, May harken to you for my profit. Sir, I pray heare em. Nou. Tis well. Lilad. Obserue him now. Nou. Your cause being good, and your proceedings so, Without corruption; I am your friend, Speake your desires. 2 Cred. Oh, they are charitable, The Mashall stood ingag'd vnto vs three, Two hundred thousand crownes, which by his death We are defeated of. For which great losse We ayme at nothing but his rotten flesh, Nor is that cruelty. 1 Cred. I haue a sonne, That talkes of nothing but of Gunnes and Armors, And sweares hee'll be a soldier, tis an humor I would diuert him from, and I am told That if I minister to him in his drinke Powder, made of this banquerou Marshalls bones, Prouided that the carcase rot aboue ground, 'T will cure his foolish frensie. Nou. You shew in it A fathers care. I haue a sonne my selfe, A fashionable Gentleman and a peacefull: And but I am assur'd he's not so giuen, He should take of it too. Sir, what are you? Char. A Gentleman. Nou. So are many that rake dunghills. If you haue any suit, moue it in Court. I take no papers in corners. Rom. Yes as the matter may be carried, and hreby To mannage the conuayance—Follow him. Lil. You are rude. I say, he shall not passe. Exit Nouall. Char: and Aduocates. Rom. You say so. O what assurance? For the well cutting of his Lordships cornes, Picking his toes, or any office else Neerer to basenesse! Lil. Looke vpon mee better, Are these the ensignes of so coorse a fellow? Be well aduis'd. Rom. Out, rogue, do not I know, (Kicks him) These glorious weedes spring from the sordid dunghill Of thy osicious basenesse? wert thou worthy Of any thing from me, but my contempt, I would do more then this, more, you Court-spider. Lil. But that this man is lawlesse; he should find that I am valiant. 1 Cred. If your eares are fast, Tis nothing. Whats a blow or two? as much— 2 Cred. These chastisements, as vsefull are as frequent To such as would grow rich. Rom. Are they so Rascals? I wil be-friend you then. 1 Cred. Beare witnesse, Sirs. Lil. Trueth, I haue borne my part already, friends. In the Court you shall haue more. Exit. Rom. I know you for The worst of spirits, that stiue to rob the tombes Of what is thei inheritance, rom the dead. For vsres, bred by a otous peace: That hold the Charter o you welh & freedome, By being Knaues and Cuckolds that nere prayd, But when you feare the rich heires will grow wise, To keepe their Lands out of your parchment toyles; And then, the Diuell your fathe's cal vpon, To inuent some wayes of Luxury ne're thought on. Be gone, and quickly, or Ile leaue no roome Vpon your forhead for your hornes to sprowt on, Without a murmure, or I will vndoe you; For I will beate you honest. 1 Cred. Thrift forbid. We will beare this, rather then hazard that. Ex: Creditor. Enter Charloyes. Rom. I am some-what eas'd in this yet. Char (Onely friend) To what vaine purpose do I make my sorrow, Wayte on the triumph of their cruelty? Or teach their pride from my humilitie, To thinke it has recome? They are determin'd What they will do: and it may well become me, To robbe them of the glory they expect From my submisse intreaties. Rom. Thinke not so, Sir, The dificulties that you incounter with, Will crowne the vndertaking — Heauen! you weepe: And I could do so too, but that I know, Theres more expected from the sonne and friend Of him, whose fatall losse now shakes our natures. Then sighs, or teares, (in which a village nurse Or cunning strumpet, when her knaue is hangd, May ouercome vs.) We are men (young Lord) Let vs not do like women. To the Cot, And there speak like your birth: wake sleeping iustice, Or dare the Ae. This is a way will sort With what you are. I call you not to that I wil shrinke from my selfe, I will deserne Your thankes, or suffer with you—O how brauely That sudden fire of anger shewes in you Exeunt. ship's seated. May this meeting proue vs, and to the generall good of Burgundy. to the poyn. is, honur to dispse the place and power Or primier President, which this reuerent ma Graue Rochsort, (whom for honours sake I name) Is purpos'd to resigne a place, my Lords, In which he hath with such integrity, Perform'd the first and best parts of a Iudge, That as his life transcends all faire examples Of such as were before him in Dijon, So it remaines to thos that shall succeed him, A President they may imitate, but not equall. Roch. I may not sit to heare this. Du Croy. Let the loue And hankfulnes we are bound to pay to goodnesse, In this o'recome your modestie. Roch. My thankes For this great fauour shall preuent your trouble. The honourable trust that was impos'd Vpon my weakenesse, since you witnesse for me, It was not ill discharg'd, I will not mention, Nr now, if age had not depriu'd me of The little strength I had to gouere well, The Prouince that I vnder tooke, forsake it. Nou. Tht we could lend you of our yeeres. Du Croy. Or strength. Nu. O as you are, perswade you to continue The nobl exercise of your knowing iudgement. Roch. That may not be, nor can your Lordships goodnes, Since your imployments haue conse'd vpon me Suicient wealth, deny the vse of it, And though old age, when one oot's in the graue. In many, when all humos else are spent Feeds no affection in them, but desire To adde height to the mountine of their riches: In me it is not so, I rest content With the honours, and estate I now possesse, And that I may haue liberty to vse, What Heauen still blssing my poore industry, Hath made me Master of: I pray the Court To ease me of my burthen, that I may Employ the small remainder of my life, In liuing well, and learning how to dye so, Enter Romont, and Charalois. Rom. See sir, our Aduocate. Du Croy. The Court intreats, Your Lordship will be pleasd to name the man, Which you would haue your successor, and in me, All promise to confirme it. Roch. I embrace it, As an assurance of their fauour to me, And name my Lord Nouall. Du Croy. The Court allows it. Roch. But there are suters waite heere, and their uses May be of more necessity to be heard, And therefore wish that mine may be defer'd, And theirs haue hearing. Du Croy. If your Lordship please To take the place, we will proceed. Charm. The cause We come to offer to your Lordships censure, Is in it ele so noble, that it needs not Or Rhetorque in me that plead, or fauour Fom your graue Lordshps, to determine of it Since to he prayse of your impartiall iustice (Which guilty, nay condemn'd men, dare not scandall) t will erect a trophy of your mercy VVith married to that Iustice. Nou. Se. Speake to the cause. Charm. I will, my Lord: to say, the late dead Marshall The father of this young Lord heere, my Clyent, Hath done his Country great and faithfull seruice, Might taske me of impertinence to repeate, What your graue Lordships cannot but remember, He in his life, become indebted to These thriftie men, I will not wrong their credits, By giuing them the attributes they now merit, And fayling by the fortune of the warres, Of meanes to free himselfe, from his ingagements, He was arrested, and for want of bayle Imprisond at their suite, and not long after VVith losse of liberty ended his life. And though it be a Maxime in our Lawes, All suites dye with the person, these mens malice In death find matter for their hate to worke on, Denying him the decent Rytes of buriall, VVhich the sworne enemies of the Christian faith Grant freely to their slaues: may it therefore please Your Lordships, so to fashion your decree, That what their crueltie doth forbid, your pittie May giue allowance to. Nou. Se. How long haue you Sir practis'd in Court? Charmi. Some twenty yeeres, my Lord. Nou. Se. By your grosse ignorance it should appeare, Not twentie dayes. Charmi. I hope I haue giuen no cause in this, my Lord— Nou. Se. How dare you moue the Court, To the dispensing with an Act confirmd By Parlment, to the terror of all banquerouts? Go home, and with more care peruse the Statutes: Or the next motion sauoring of this boldnesse, May force you to leape (against your will) Ouer the place you plead at. Carmi. I foresaw this. Rom. Why does your Lordship thinke, the mouing of A cause more honest then this Court had euer The honor to determine, can deserue A checke like this? Nou. Se. Strange boldnes! Rom. Tis fit freedome: Or do you conclude, an aduocate cannot hold His credit with the Iudge, vnlsse he study His face more then the cause for which he pleades? Charmi. Forbeare. Rom. Or cannot you, that haue the power To qualifie the rigour of the Lawes When you are pleased, take a little from The strictnesse of your sowre decrees, enacted In fauor of the greedy creditors Against the orethrowne debtr? Nou. Se. Sirra, you that prate Thus sawcily, what are you? Rom. Why Ile tell you, Thou purple-colour'd man, I am one to whom Thou owest the meanes thou hast of sitting there A corrupt Elder. Charmi. Forbeare. Rom. The nose thou wearst, is my gift, and those eyes, That meete no obiect so base as their Master, Had bin, long since torne from that guiltie head, And thou thy selfe slaue to some needy Swisse, Had I not worne a sword, and vs'd it better Then in thy prayes thou ere didst thy tongue. Nou. Se. Shall such an Insolence passe vnpunisht? Charmi. Heare mee. Rom. Yet I, that in my seruice done my Country, Disdaine to bee put in the scale with thee, Confesse my selfe vnworthy to bee valued VVith the least part, nay haire of the dead Marshall, Of whose so many glorious vndertakings, Make choice of any one, and that the meanest Performd against the subtill Fox of France, The politique Lewis, or the more desperate Swise, And 'twyl outwaygh all the good purpose, Though put in act, that uer Gowneman practizd. Nou. Se. Away with him to prison. Rom. f hat curses, Vrg'd usly, and breath'd forth so, euer fell On those that did deserue them; let not mine Be spent in vaine now, that thou from this instant Mayest in thy feare that they will fall vpon thee, Be sensible of the plagues they shall bring with them. And for denying of a little earth, To couer what remaynes of our great soldyer: May all your wiues proue whores, your factors theeues, And while you liue, your yotous heires vndoe you And thou, the patron of their cruelty, Of all thy Lordships liue not to be owner Of so much dung as will conceale a Dog, Or what is worse, thy selfe in. And thy yeeres, To th'end thou mayst be wretched, I wish many, And as thou hast denied the dead a graue, May misery in thy life make thee desire one, Which men and all the Elements keepe from thee: I haue begun well, imitate, exceed. Roch. Good counsayle were it, a prayse worthy deed. Ex. Officers with Rom. Du. Croye. Remember what we are. Chara. Thus low my duty Answeres your Lordships counsaile. I will vse In the fw words (with which I am to trouble Your Lordships eares) the temper that you wish mee, Not that I feare to speake my thoughts as lowd, And with a liberty beyond Romont: But that I know, for me that am made vp Of all that's wretched, so to ste my end, Would seeme to most, rather a willingesse To qit the burthen of a hopelesse life, Then scorne of death, or duty to the dead. I therefore bring the tribute of my prayse To your seueritie, and commend the Iustice, That will not for the many seruices That any man hath done the Common wealth, Winke at his least of ills: what though my father VVrit man before he was so, and confirmd it, By nmbring that day, no part of his life, In which he did not seruice to his Country; Was he to be free therefore from the Lawes, And ceremonious forme in your decrees? Or else because he did as much as man In those three memorable ouerthrowes A Granson, Morat, Nancy, where his Master, The warlike Charloyes (with whose misfortunes I beare his name) lost treasure, men and life, To be excus'd, from paymnt of those summes Which (his owne patrimony spent) his zeale, To serue his Countrey, forc'd him to take vp? Nou. Se. The president were ill. Chara. And yet, my Lord, this much I know youll grant; After those great defeatures, Which in their dreadful ruins buried quick, Enter officers. Courage and hope, in all men but himselfe, He forst the proud foe, in his height of conquest, To yeeld vnto an honourable peace. And in it saued an hundred thousand liues, To end his owne, that was sure proofe against The scalding Summers heate, and Winters frost, Ill ayres, the Cannon, and the enemies sword, In a most loathsome prison. Du Croy. Twas his fault to be so prodigall. Nou. S. He had frō the state sufficient entertainment for the Army. Char. Suficent? My Lord, you sit at home, And though your fees are boundlesse at the barre: Are thriftie i the charges of the warre, But your wills be obeyd. To these I turne, To thse soft-hearted men, that wisely know They are onely good men, that pay what they owe 2 Cred. And so they are. 1 Cred. 'Tis the City Doctrine, We stand bound to maintaine it. Char. Be constant in it, And since you are as mercilesse in your natures, As base, and mercenary in your meanes By which you get your wealth, I will not vrge The Court to take away one scruple from The right of their lawes, or one good thought In you to mend your disposition with. I know there is no musique to your eares So pleasing as the groanes of men in prison, Ad that the teares of widows, and the cries Of famish'd Orphants, are the feasts that take you. That to be in your danger, with more care Should be uoyded, then infectious ayre, The loath'd embraces of diseased women, A flatterers poyson, or the losse of honour. Yet rather then my fathers reuerent dust Shall want a place in that faire monument, In which our noble Ancestors lye intomb'd, Before the Court I offer vp my selfe A prisoer for it; loade me with those yrons That haue worne out his life, in my best strength e run to th' incounter of cold hunger, And choose my dwelling where no Sun dares enter, So e may be releas'd. 1 Cred. What meane you sir? 2 Auo. Onely your fee againether's so much sayd Already in this cause, and sayd so well, That should I onely offer to speake in it, I should not bee heard, or laught at for it. 1 Cred. 'Tis the fist mony aduocate ere gaue backe, Though hee sayd nothing. Roch. Be aduis'd, young Lord, And well coniderate, you throw away Your liberty, and ioyes of life together: Your bounty is imployd vpon a subiect That is not sensible of it, with which, wise man Neuer abus'd his goodnesse; the great vertues Of your dead father vindicate themselues, From these mens malice, and breake ope the prison, Though it containe his body. Nou. Se. Let him alone, If he loue Lords, a Gods name let him weare 'em, Prouided these consent. Char. I hope they are not So ignorant in any way of profit, As to neglect possibility To get their owne, by seeking it from that Which can returne them nothing, but ill fame, And curses for their barbarous cruelties. 3 Cred. What thinke you of the offer? 2 Cred. Very well. 1 Cred. Accept it by all mes: let's shut him vp, He is well-shaped and has a villanous togue, And should he study that way of renenge, As I dare almost sweare he loues a wench, We haue no wiues, nor neuer shall get daughter That will hold out against him. Du Croy. What's your answer? 2 Cred. Speake you for all. 1 Cred Why, let our executions That lye vpon the father, bee return'd Vpon the sonne, and we release the body. Nou. Se. The Court must grant you that. Char. I thanke your Lordships, They hae in it confirm'd on me such glory, As no time can take from me: I am ready, Come lead me where you please: captiuity That comes with honour, is true liberty. Exit Charmi, Cred & Officers. Nou. Se. Strange rashnesse. Roch. A braue resolution rather, Worthy a better fortune, but howeuer It is not now to be disputed, therefore To my owne cause. Already I haue found Your Lordships bountifull in your fauours to me, And that should teach my modesty to end heere And presse your loues no further. Du Croy. There is nothing The Court can grant, but with assurance you May aske it, and obtaine it. Roch. You incourage a bold Petitioner, and 'tis not fit Your fauours should be lost. Beside, as beene A custome many yeeres, at the surrendring The place I now giue vp, to grant the President One boone, that parted with it. And to confirme Your grace towards me, against all such as may Detract my actions, and life hereafter, I now preferre it to you. Du Croy. Speake it feely. Roch. I then desire the liberty of Rmont, And that my Lord Nouall whose priuate wrong Was equall to the iniurie that was done To the dignity of the Court, will pardon it, And now signe his enlargement. Nou. Se. Pray you demand The moyety of my estate, or any thing Within my power, but this. Roch. Am I denyed then—my first and last request Du Croy. It must not be. 2. Pre. I haue a voyce to giue in it. 3. Pre. And I. And if perswasion will not worke him to it, We will make knowne our power. No Se. You are too violent, You shall haue my consent—But wold you had Made tryall of my loue in any thing But this, you should haue found then—But it skills not You haue what you desire. Roch. I thanke your Lordships. Du Croy. The court is vp, make way. Ex. omnes, prate Roch. & Baumont. Roch. I follow you—Baumont. Baum. My Lord. Roch. You are a scholler, Baumont, And can search deeper into th' intents of men, Then those that are lesse knowing—How appear'd The piety and braue behauiour of Young Charloyes to you? Baum. It is my wonder, Since I want language to expresse it fully; And sure the Collonell— Roch. Fie! he was faulty—what present mony haue I? Baum. There is no want Of any summe a priuate man has vse for. Roch. 'Tis well I am strangely taken with this Charaloyes; Methinkes, from his example, the whole age Should learne to be good, and continue so. Vertue workes strangely with vs: and his goodnesse Rising aboue his fortune, seemes to me Princelike, to will, not aske a courtesie. Exeunt. Act. secundus. Scaena prima: Enter Pontalier, Malotin, Baumont. Mal.

TIs strange.

Baum.

Me thinkes so,

Pont. In a man, but young, Yet old in iudgement, theorique, and practicke, In all humanity (and to increase the wonder) Religious, yet a Souldier, that he should Yeeld his free liuing youth a captiue, for The reedome of his aged fathers Corpes, And rather choose to want life necessaries, Liberty, hope of fortune, then it should In death be kept from Christian ceremony. Malo. Come, 'Tis a goldn president in a Sonne, To let strong nature haue the better hand, (In such a case) of all affected reason. What yeeres sits on this Charlois? Baum. Twenty eight, for ince the clocke did strike him 17 old Vnder his fathers wing, this Sonne hath fought, Seru'd and commanded, and so aptly both, That sometimes he appear'd his fathers father, And neuer lesse then's sonne; the old mans vertues So recent in him, as the world may sweare, Nought but a faire tree, could such fayre fruit beare. Pont. But wherefore lets he such a barbarous law, And men more barbarous to execute it, Preuaile on his soft disposition, That he had rather dye aliue for debt Of the old man in prison, then he should Rob him of Sepulture, considering These monies borrow'd bought the lenders peace, And all their meanes they inioy, nor was diffus'd In any impious or licencious path? Bau. True: for my part, were it my fathers trunke, The tyrannous Ram-heads, with their hornes should gore it, Or, cast it to their curres (than they) lese currsh, Ere prey on me so, with their Lion-law, Bing in my free will (as in his) to shun it. Pont. Alasse! he knowes himselfe (in pouerty) lost: For in this parciall auaricious age What price beares Honor? Vertue? Long agoe It was but prays'd, and freez'd, but now a dayes 'Tis colder far, and has, nor loue, nor praise, Very prayse now freezeth too: for nature Did make the heathen, fr ore Christian then, Then knowledge vs (lesse hethenish) Christian. Malo.

This morning is the funerall.

Pont. Certainely! And from this prison 'twas the sonnes request That his deare father might inerment haue. Recorders Musque. See, the young sonn ierd liuely gre. Baum.

They come, obserue their order.

Enter Funerall. Body brne by 4. Captaines and Souldiers. Mourers. Scutchions, and very good order. Charlois, and Rmont meet i Char. speaks. Rom. weeping, solemne Musique, 3 Creditors. Char. How like a silent streame shaded with night, And gliding softly with our windy sighe; Moues the whole frame of this solemnity! Teares, sighes and blackes, filling the fimily, Whilst I the onely murmur in this groue Of death, thus hollowly break forth Vouchfafe To stay a while, rest, rest in peace, deare earth, Thou that brought'st rest to their vnthankfull lyues Whose cruelty deny'd thee rest in death: Heere stands thy poore Executor thy sonne, That makes his life prisoner, to bale thy death; Who gladlier puts on this captiuity, Then Virgins long in loue, their wedding weeds: Of all that euer thou hast done good to, These onely haue good memories, for they Remember best, forget not gratitude. I thanke you for this last and friendly loue. And tho this Country, like a viperous mother, Not onely hath eate vp vngrateully All meanes of thee her sonne, but last thy selfe, Leauing thy heire so bare and indigent, He cnnot rayse thee a poore Monument, Such as a flatterer, or a vsurer hath. Thy worth, in euery honest brst buylder one, Making their friendly hearts hy funerall stone. Pont.

Sir.

Char. Peace, O peace, this sceane is wholy mine. What weepe ye, souldiers? Blanch not, Romont weepes. Ha. let me see, my miracle is eas'd, The iaylors and the creditors do weepe; Euen they that make vs weepe, do weepe themselues. Be these thy bodies balme: these and thy vertue Keepe thy fame euer odoriferous, VVhilst the great, proud, rich, vndeseruing man, Aliue stinkes in his vices, and bein vanish'd, The golden calfe that was an Idoll dect VVith Marble pillars Iet, and Porphyrie, Shall quickly both in bone and name consume, Though wrapt in lead, spice, Searecloth and perfume 1 Cred.

Sir.

Char. VVhat! Away for shame: you prophane rogues Must not be mingled with these holy reliques: This is a Sacrifice, our showre shall crowne His sepulcher with Oliue, Myrrh and Bayes The plants of peace, of sorrow, victorie, Your teares would spring but weedes. 1 Cred. VVould they not so? VVee'll keepe them to stop bottles then: Rom. No; keepe 'em for your owne sins, you Rogues, Till you repent: you'll dye else and be damn'd. 2 Cred.

Damn'd, ha! ha, ha.

Rom.

Laugh yee?

3 Cred. Yes faith. Sir, weel'd be very glad To please you yther way. 1 Cred. Y'are ne're content, Crying not laughing. Rom.

Both with a birth shee rogues.

2 Cred.

Our wiues, Sir, taught vs.

Rom. Looke, looke you slaus, your thanklesse cuelty And sauge manners, of vnkind Dijon, Exhaust these flouds, and not his fathers death. 1 Cred.

Slid, Sir, what would yee, ye'are so cholericke?

2 Cred. Most souldiers are so y faith, let him alone: They haue little else to liue on, we haue not had A penny of him, haue wee? 3 Cred,

'Slight, wo'd you haue our hearts?

1 Cred. We haue nothing but his body heere in durance For all our mony. Priest.

On.

Char. One moment more, But to bestow a few poore legacyes, All I haue left in my dead fathers rights, And I haue done. Captaine, weare thou these spurs That yet ne're made his horse runne from a foe. Lieutenant, thou, this Scarfe, and may it tye Thy valor, and thy honestie together: For so it did in him. Ensigne, this Curace Your Generalls necklace once. You gentle Bearers, Deuide this purse of gold, this other, strow Among the poore: tis all I haue. Romont, (Weare thou this medall of himselfe) that like A hearty Oake, grew'st close to this tall Pine, Euen in the wildest wildernesse of war, VVhereon foes broke their swords, and tyr'd themselues; VVounded and hack'd yee were, but neuer fell'd. For me, my portion prouide in Heauen: My roote is carth'd, and I a desolate branch Left scattered in the high way of the world, Trod vnder foot, that might haue bin a Columne, Mainely supporting our demolish'd house, This would I weare as my inheritance. And what hope can arise to me from it, VVhen I and it are both heere prisoners? Onely may this, if euer we be free, Keepe, or redeeme me from all infamie. Song. Muscke. 1 Cred.

No farther, looke to 'em at your owne perill.

2 Cred. No, as they please: their Master's a good man. I would they were the Burmudas. Saylor. You must no further. The prison limits you, and the Creditors Exact the strictnesse. Rom. Out you wooluish mungrells! Whose braynes should be knockt out, like dogs in Iuly, Lest your infection poyson a whole towne. Char. They grudge our sorrow: your ill wills perforce Turnes now to Charity: they would not haue vs Walke too farre mourning, vsurers reliefe Grieues, if the Debtors haue too much of griefe. Exeunt. Enter Beaumelle: Florimell: Bellapert. Beau.

I prithee tell me, Florimell, why do women marry?

Flor.

Why truly Madam, I thinke, to lye with their hus∣bands.

Bella. You are a foole; She lyes, Madam, women marry husbands, To lye with other men. Flor.

Faith, eene such a woman wilt thou make. By thi light, Madam, this wagtaile will spoyle you, if you take delight in her licence.

Beau.

Tis true, Florimell: and thou wilt make me too good for a yong Lady. What an electuary found my faher out for his daughter, when hee compounded you two my women? for thou, Florimell, art ene a graine too heauy, simply for a wayting Gentlewoman.

Flor.

And thou Bellapert, a graine too light.

Bella.

Well, go thy wayes goodly wisdom, whom no body regards. I wonder, whether be elder thou or thy hood you thinke, because you serue my Ladyes mother, are 32 yeeres old which is a peepe cut, you know.

Flor.

Well sayd, wherligig.

Bella.

You are deceyu'd: I want a peg ith' middle. Out of these Prerogatiues! you thinke to be mother of the maydes heere, & mortifie em with prouerbs: goe, goe, gouern the sweet meates, and waigh the Suger, that the wenches steale none: say your prayers twice a day, and as I take it, you haue performd your function.

Flor.

I may bee euen with you.

Bll.

Harke, the Court's broke vp. Goe helpe my old Lord out of his Caroch, and scratch his head till dinner time

Flor.

Well. Exit.

Bell.

Fy Madam, how you walke! By my mayden-head you looke 7 yeeres older then you did this morning: why, there can be nothing vnder the Sunne valuable, to make you thus a minute.

Beau. Ah my sweete Bellapert thou Cabinet To all my counsels, thou dost know the cause That makes thy Lady wither thus in youth. Bel. Vd'd-light, enioy your wishes: whilst I liue, One way or other you shall crowne your will. Would you haue him your husband that you loue, And can't not bee? he is your seruant though, And may performe the office of a husband. Beau. But there is honor, wench. Bell. Such a disease There is in deed, for which ere I would dy. — Bau. Prethee, distinguish me a mayd & wife. Bell. Faith, Madam, one may beare any mans children, Tother must beare no mans. Beau.

What is a husband?

Bell.

Physicke, that tumbling in your belly, will make you sicke ith' stomacke: the onely distinction betwixt a husband and a seruant is: the first will lye with you, when hee please; the last shall lye with you when you please. Pray tell me, Lady, do you loue, to marry after, or would you marry, to loue after?

Beau.

I would meete loue and marriage both at once.

Bell.

Why then you are out of the fashion, and wilbe con∣temn'd: for (Ile assue you) there are few women i'th world, but either they haue married first, and loue after, or loue first, and marryed after: you must do as you may, not as you would: your fathers will is the Goale you must fly to if a husband approch you, you would haue further off, is he your loue? the lesse neere you. A husband in these dayes is but a cloake to bee oftner layde vpon your bed, then in your bed.

Baum.

Humpe.

Bell.

Sometimes you may weare him on your shoulder, now and then vnder your arme: but seldome or neuer let him couer you: for 'tis not the fashion.

Enter y. Nouall, Pontalier, Malotin, Lilladam, Aymer. Nou. Best day to natures curiosity, Starre of Dijum, the lustre of all France, Perpetuall pring dwell on thy rosy cheekes, Whose breath is perfume to our Continent, See Flora turn'd in her varieties. Bell.

Oh diine Lord!

Nou. No autumne, nor no age euer approach This heauenly piece, which nature hauing wrought, She lost her needle and did then despaire, Euer to worke so liuely and so faire. Lilad.

Vds light, my Lord, one of the purles of your band is (without all discipline falne) out of his ranke.

Nou. How? I would not for a 1000 crownes she had seen't. Deare Liladam, reforme it. Bell.

Oh Lord: Per se, Lord, quintessence of honour, shee walkes not vnder a weede that could deny thee any thing.

Baum.

Prethy peace, wench, thou dost but blow the fire, that flames too much already. Lilad. Aym. trim Nouall, whilst Bell her Lady.

Aym.

By gad, my Lord, you haue the diui∣nest Taylor of Christendome; he hath made you looke like an Angell in your cloth of Tissue doublet.

Pont.

This is a three-leg'd Lord, ther's a fresh assault, oh that men should spend time thus!

See see, how her blood driues to her heart, and straight vaults to her cheekes againe.

Malo.

What are these?

Pont.

One of 'em there the lower is a good, foolish, kn∣uish, sociable gallimaufry of a man, and has much taught my Lord with singing, hee is master of a musicke house: the other is his dressing blocke, vpon whom my Lord layes all his cloathes, and fashions, ere he vouchsafes 'em his owne person; you shall see him i'th morning in the Gally-foyst, at noone in the Bullion, i'th euening in Quirpo, and all night in —

Malo.

A Bawdyhouse.

Pont.

If my Lord deny, they deny, if hee affirme, they af∣firme: they skip into my Lords cast skins some twice a yeere, and thus they liue to eate, eate to liue, and liue to prayse my Lord.

Malo.

Good sir, tell me one thing.

Pont.

What's that?

Malo.

Dare thse men euer fight, on any cause?

Pont.

Oh no, 't would spoyle their cloathes, and put their bands out of order.

Nou.

Mrs, you heare the news: your father has resign'd his Presidentship to my Lord my father.

Malo. And Lord Charolois vndone foreuer. Pon. Toth, 'tis pity, sir. A brauer hope of so assur'd a father Did neuer comfort France. Lila. A good dumbe mourner. Aym A silent blacke. Nou. O fi vpon him, how he weares his cloathes! As i he had come this Christmas from St. Omers, To see his friends, and return'd after Twelfetyde. Lilad. His Colonell lookes fienely like a drouer, Nou. That had a winter ly'n perdieu i'th rayne. Aym. What, he that weares a clout about his necke, His cuffes in's pocket, and his heart in's mouth? Nou.

Now out vpon him!

Beau. Srant, tye my hand. How your lips blush, in scorne that they should pay Trit to hands, when lips are in the way! Nou. I thus recant, yet now your hand looks white, Because your lips robd it of such a right. Mneur Aymour, I prethy sing the song Deuoted to my M. Cant. Musicke. After the Song, Enter Rochfort, & Baumont. Baum. Romnt will come, sir, straight. Roch. 'Tis well. Bean. My Father. Nouall. My honorable Lord. Roch. My Lord Nouall, this is a vertue in you, So early vp and ready before noone, That are the map of dressing through all France. Nou. I rise to say my prayers, sir, here's my Saint. Roch. Tis well and courtly; you must giue me leaue, I haue some priuate conference with my daughter, Pray vse my garden, you shall dine with me. Lilad. Wee'l waite on you. Nou. Good morne vnto your Lordship, Remember what you haue vow'd—to his Mrs. Exent omnes, prater Roch. Daug. Beau. Performe I must. Roch. Why how now Beaumelle, thou look'st not well. Th'art sad of late, come cheere thee, I haue found A wholesome remedy for these mayden fits, A goodly Oake whereon to twist my vine, Till her faire branches grow vp to the starres. Be neere at hand, successe crowne my intent, My businesse fills my little time so full, I canno stand to talke: I know, thy duty Is handmayd to my will, especially When it presents nothing but good and fit. Beau. Sir, I am yours. Oh if my teares proue true, Exit Daug Fate hath wrong'd loe, and will destroy me too. Entr Romont keeper. Rom. Sent you for me, sir? Roch. Yes. Rom. Your Lordships pleasure? Rch. Keeper, this prisoner I will see forth comming Vpon my word— Sit downe good Colonell. Exit keeper. Why I did wish you hither, noble sir, Is to aduise you from this yron carriage, Which, so affected, Romont, you weare, To pity and to cunell yee submit With expedition to the great Nouall: Recant your sterne contempt, and slight neglect Of the whole Court, and him, and opportunity, Or you will vndergoe a heauy censure In publique very shortly. Rom. Hum hum: reuerend sir, I haue obseru'd you, and doe know you well, And am now more affraid you know not me, By wishing my submission to Nouall, Then I can be of all the bellowing mouthes That waite vpon him to pronounce the censure Could it determine me torments, and shame. Submit, and craue forgiuenesse of a beast Tis true, this bile of state weares purple Tissue, Is high fed, proud so is his Lordships horse, And beares as rich Caparisons. I know, This Elephant carries on his backe not onely Towres, Castles, but the ponderous republique, And neuer stoops for't, with hs strong breath trunk Suffes others titles, Lordships, Offices, Wealth, bribes and lyues, vnder his rauenous iawes, Whats this vnto my freedome? I dare dye; And therfore aske this Cammell, if these blessings (For so they would be vnderstood by a man) But mollifie one rudenesse in his nature, Sweetn the eager relish of the law, At whose great helme he sits: helps he the poore In a iust businesse? nay, does he not crosse Euery deserued souldier and scholler, As if when nature made him, she had made The generall Antipathy of all vertue? How sauagely, and blasphemofly hee spake Touching the Generall, the graue Generall dead, I must weepe when I thinke on't. Roch. Sir. Rom. My Lord, I am not stubborne, I can melt, you see, Ad prize a vertue better then my life For though I be not learnd, I euer lou'd That hoy Mother of all issues, good, VVhose white hand (for a Scepter) holdes a File To pollish roughest customes, and in you She has her right: see, I am calme as sleepe, But when I thinke of the grosse iniuries, The godlesse wrong done, to my Generall dead, I raue indeed, and could eate this Nouall A soule-lesse Dromodary. Roch. Oh bee temperate, Sir, though I would perswade, I'le not constraine Each mans opinion freely is his owne, Concerning any thing or any body, Be it right or wrong, tis at the Iudges perill. Enter Baumond. Bau. These men, Sir, waite without, my Lord is come too. Roch. Pay'em those summes vpon the table, take Their full releases: stay, I want a witnesse: Let mee intreat you Colonell, to walke in, And stand but by, to see this money pay'd, It does concerne you and your friends, it was The better cause you were sen for, though sayd otherwise. The deed shall make this my request more plaine. Rom. I shall obey your pleasure Sir, though ignorant To what is tends? Exit Seruant Romont. Roch. Worthiest Sir, Enter Charolis. You are most welcome: fye, no more of this: You haue ot-wept a woman, noble Carolois. No man but has, or must bury a father. Char. Graue Sir, I buried sorrow, for his death, In the graue with him. I did neuer thinke Hee was immorrall, though I vow I grieue, And see no reason why the vicious, Vertuous, valiant and vnworthy men Should dye alike. Roch. They do not. Char. In the manner Of dying, Sir, they do not, but all dye, And therein dffer not: but I haue done. I spy'd th liuely picture of my father, Passing your gallery, and that cast this water Ito mie eyes: see, foolish that I am, To let it doe so. Roch. Sweete and gentle nature, How silkn is this well comparatiuely To other men! I haue a suite to you Sir, Chr. Take it, tis granted. Roch. VVhat? Char. Nothing, my Lord. Roch. Nothing is qickly granted. Cara. Faith, my Lord, That nothing granted, is eun all I haue, For (al know) I haue nothing left to grant. Roch. Sir, ha' you any suite to me? Ill grant You some thing, any thing. Char. Nay surely, I that can Giue nothing, will but sue for that againe. No man will grant mee any thing I ue for. But begging nothing, euery man will giue't. Roch. Sir, the loue I bore your father, and the worth I see in you, so much resembling his, Made me tu send for you. And tender heere Drawes a rtayne What uer you will take, gold, Iewels, both, All, to supply your wants, and free your selfe. Where heauenly vertue in high blouded veines Is lodg'd, and ca agree, men should knele downe, Adore, and sacrifice all that they hau; And well they may, it is so seldome seene. Put off your wonder, and heere freely take Or send your seruants. Nor, Sir, shall you vse In ought of this, a poore mans fee, or bribe, Vniustly taken of the rich, but what's Directly goten, and yet by the Law. Char. How ill, Sir, it becomes those haires to mocke? Roch. Mocke? thunder strike mee then. Char. You doe amaze mee: But you shall wonder too, I will not take One single piece of this great heape: why should I Borrow, that haue not meanes to pay, nay am A very bankerupt, euen in flattering hope Of euer raysing any. All my begging, Is Romonts libertie. Enter Romont, Creditors loaden with mony. Baumont. Roch. Heere is your friend, Enfranchist ere you spake. I giue him you, And Charalois. I giue you to your friend As free a man as hee; your fathers debts Are taken off. Char. How? Rom. Sir, it is most true. I am the witnes. 1 Cred. Yes faith, wee are pay'd. 2 Cred. Heauen blesse his Lordship, I did thinke him wiser 3 Cred. He a states-man, he an asse Pay other mens debts? 1 Cred. That hee was neuer bound for. Rom. One more such would saue the rest of pleaders Char. Honord Rochfort. Lye still my toung and bushes, cal'd my cheekes, That offter thankes in words, for such great deeds. Roch. Call in my daughter: still I haue a suit to you. VVould you requite mee. Baum. Exit. Rom. VVith his life, assure you. Roch. Nay, would you make me now your debter, Sir. This is my onely child: what shee appeares, Enter Baum Your Lordship well may see her education, Beau. Folowes not any: for her mind, I know it To be far fayrer then her shape, and hope It will continue so: if now her birth Be not too meane for Charolois, take her This virgin by the hand, and call her wife, Indowd with all my fortunes: blesse mee so. Requite mee thus, and make mee happier, In ioyning my poore empty name to yours, Then if my state were multiplied ten fold. Char. Is this the payment, Sir, that you expect? Why, you participate me more in debt That nothing but my life can euer pay, This beautie being your daughter, in which yours I must conceiue necessitie of her vertue Without ll dowry is a Princes ayme, Then, as shee is, for poore and worthlesse I, How much too worthy! Waken me, Romont, That I may know I dream't, and find this vanisht Rom. Sure, I sleepe not. Roh. Your sentence life or death. Char. Faire Beaumeile, can you loue me? Beau. Yes, my Lord. Enter Noall, Pta Char. You need not question me, if I can you. Malotine, Lilad, Aymer. All salute. You are the fayrest virgin in Digm And Rochfort is your father. Nou. What's this change? Roch. You met my wishes, Gentlemen. Rom. VVhat make These dogs in doublets he ere! Beau. A Visitation, Sir. Char. Then tus, Faire Baumell, I write my saith Thus seale it in the sight of Heauen and men. Your fingers tye my heart-strings with this touch In true-loue knots, which nought but death shall loose. And yet these eares (an Embleme of our loues) Like Cristall riuers indiuidully Flow into one another, make one source, Which neuer man distinguish, lesse deuide: Breath, marry, breath, and kisses, mingle soules Two hearts, and bodies, heere incorporate: And though with little wooing I haue wonne, My future life shall bee a wooing tyme. And uery day, new as the bridall one, Oh Sir, I groane vnder your courtesies, More then my fathers bones vnder his wrongs, You Curtius-like, haue throwne into the gulfe, Of this his Countries foule ingratitude, Your life and fortunes, to redeeme their shames. Roch. No more, my glory, come, let's in and hasten This celebration. Rom. Mal. Pont. Ba. All faire blisse vpon it. Exeunt Roch. Char. Rom. Bau. Mal. Nou. Mistresse. Beau. Oh seruant, vertue strengthen me. Thy presence blowes round my affections vane: You will vndoe me, if you speake againe. Exit Beaum. Lilad. Aym. Here will be sport for you. This workes. Exeunt Lilad. Aym. Nou. Peace, peace. Pon. One word, my Lord Nouall. Nou. What, thou wouldst mony; there. Pont. No, Ile none, Ile not be bought a slaue, A Pander, or a Parasite, for all Your fathers worth, though you haue sau'd my life, Rescued me ofen from my wants, I must not Winke at your follyes: that will ruine you. You know my blunt way, and my loe to truth: Forske the prsuit of this Ladies honour, Now you doe see her made another mans, And such a mans, so good, so popular, Or you will plucke a thousand mischiefes on you, The benefits you haue done me, are not lost, Nor cast away, they are purs'd heere in my heart, But let me pay you, sir, a fayrer way Then to defend our vices, or to sooth'em. Nou. Ha, ha, ha, what are my courses vnto thee? Good Couin Pontalier, meddle with that That shall concerne thy selfe. Exit Nonall. Pont. No more but scorne? Moue on then, starres, worke your pernicious will. Onely the wise rule, and preuent your ill. Exit. Hoboyes. Here a passage ouer the Stage, while the Act is playing for the Marriage of Charalois with Beaumelle, &c. Actus tertius, Scaena prima Enter Nouall Iunior, Bellapert. Nou. In. FLie not to these excuses: thou hast bin False in thy promise, and when I haue said Vngratefull, all is spoke. Bell. Good my Lord, but heare me onely. Nou. To what purpose, trifer? Can any thing that thou canst say, make voyd The marriage? or those pleasures but a dreame, Which Charaloyes (oh Venus) hath enioyd? Bell. I yet could say that you receiue aduantage, In what you thinke a losse, would you vouchsafe me That you were neuer in the way till now With safety to arriue at your desires, That pleasure makes loue to you vnattended By danger or repentance? Nou. That I could. But apprehend one reason how this might be, Hope would not then forsake me. Bell. The enioying Of what you most desire, I say th' enioying Shall, in the full possession of your wishes, Confirm that I am faithfull. Nou. Giue some rellish How this may appeare possible. Bell. I will Rellish, and taste, and make the banquet easie: You say my Ladie's married. I confesse it, That Caralois hath inioyed her, 'tis most true Tht with her, hee's already Master of The best prt of my old Lords state. Still better, But that the first, or last, should be your hindrance, I vtterly deny; for but obserue me: While she went for, and was, I sweare, a Virgin, What courtesie could she with her honour giue Or you receiue with safety—take me with you, When I say courtesie, doe not thinke I meane A kisse, the tying of her shoo or garter, An houre of priuate conference: those are trifles. In this word courtesy, we that are gamesters point at The sport direct, where not alone the louer Brings his Artillery, but vses it. Which word expounded to you, such a courtesie Doe you expect, and sudden. Nou. But he tasted the first sweetes, Bellapert. Bell. He wrong'd you shrewdly, He toyl'd to climbe vp to the Pheonix nest, And in his prints leaues your ascent more easie. I doe not know, you that are perfect Crittiques In womens bookes, may talke of may denheads. Nou. But for her marriage. Bell. 'Tis a faire protection 'Gainst all arrests of feare, or shame for euer. Such as are faire, and yet not foolish, study To haue one at thirteene; but they are mad That stay till twenty. Then sir, for the pleasure, To say Aduterie's sweeter, that is stale. This oely is not the contentment more, To say, This is my Cuckold, then my Riuall. More I could say—but briefely, she doates on you, I it prou othrwise, spare not, poyson me With next gold you giue me. Enter Beaumely. Beau. Hows this seruant, courting my woman? Bll. As an etrance to The fauour of the mistris: you are together And I am perfect in my qu. Beau. Stay Bellapert. Bell. In this, I must not with your leaue obey you. Yu Taylor and your Tire-woman waite without A stay my counsayle, and direction for Your next dayes dressing. I haue much to doe, Nor will your Ladiship know, time is precious, Continue idle: this choise Lord will finde So fit imployment for you. Exit Bellap. Beau. I shall grow angry. Nu. Not so, you hue a iewell in her, Madam. Bell. I had forgot to tell your Ladiship Enter againe. The cloet is piuae and yo couch ready; And if you please that I shall loose the key, But say so, and tis done. Exit Bellap. Baum. You come to chide me, seuant, and bring with yo Suficient warrant, you will say and tuely, My father found too much obedience in me, By being won too soone: yet if you please Bt to remember, all my hopes and fortunes Had reerence to this likening: you will grant That though I did not well towards you, I yet Did wisely for my selfe. Nou. Wih too much feruor I haue so long lu'd and still loue you, Mistresse, To esteeme that an iniury to me Which was to you conuenient: that is past My helpe, is past my cure. You yet may, Lady, In recompence of all my dutious seruice, (Prouided that your will answere your power) Become my Creditresse. Beau. I vnderstand you, And or assurance, the request you make Shall not he long vnanswered. Pray you sit, And by what you shall heare, you'l easily finde, My passions are much fitter to desire, Thn to be sued to. Enter Romont and Florimell. Flr. Sir, tis not enuy At the start my fellow has got of me in My Ldies good opinion, thats the motiue Of his dicouery; but due payment O what I owe her Honour. Rom. So I conceiue it. Flo. I haue obseru'd too much, nor shall my silence Preuent the remedy — yonder they are, I dare not bee seene with you. You may doe What you thinke fit, which wilbe, I presume, The ofice of a faithfull and tryed friend To my young Lord. Exit Flori. Rom. This is no vision: ha! Nou. With the next opportunity. Beau. By this kisse, and this, and this. Nou. That you would euer sweare thus. Rom. If I seeme rude, your pardon, Lady; yours I do not aske: come, do not dare to shew mee A face of anger, or the least dislike, Put on, and suddaily a milder looke, I shall grow rough else. Nou. What haue I done, Sir, To draw this harh vnsauory language from you? Rom. Done, Popinjay? why, dost thou thinke that if I ere had dreamt that thou hadst done me wrong, Thou shouldest outliue it? Beau. This is something more Then my Lords friendship giues commission for. Nou. Your presence and the place, makes him presum Vpon my patience. Rom. As if thou ere wer't angry But with thy Taylor, and yet that poore shred Can bring more to the making vp of a man, Then can be hop'd from thee: thou art his creaure, And did hee not each morning new create Thou wouldst stinke and be forgotten. Ile not change On sillable more with thee, vntill thou bring Some testimony vnder good mens hands, Thou art a Christian. I suspect thee strongly, And wilbe satisfied: till which time, keepe from me. The entertaiment of your visitation Has made what I intended on a businesse. Nou. So wee shall meete —Madam. Rom. Vse that legge againe, and Ile cut off the other. Nou. Very good. Exit Nouall. Rom. What a perfume the Muske-cat leaes behind him! Do you admit him for a property, To saue you charges, Lady. Beau. Tis not vselesse, Now you are to succeed him. Rom. So I respect you, Not for your selfe, but in remembrance of, Who is your father, and whose wife you now are, That I choose rather not to vnderstand Your nasty scoffe then,— Beau. What, you will not beate mee, If I expound it to you. Heer's a Tyrant Spares neyther man nor woman. Rom. My intents Madam, deserue not this; nor do I stay To bee the whetstone of your wit: preserue it To spend on such, as know how to admire Such coloured stuffe. In me there is now speaks to yo As true a friend and seruant to your Honour, And one that will with as much hazzard guard it, As euer man did goodnesse. — But then Lady, You must endeauour not alone to bee, But to appeare worthy such loue and seruice. Beau. To what tends this? Rom. Why, to this purpose, Lady, I do desire you should proue such a wife To Charaloys (and such a one hee merits) A Caesar, did hee liue, could not except at, Not onely innocent from crime, but free From all taynt and suspition. Beau. They are base that iudge me otherwise. Rom. But yet bee carefull. Detraction's a bold monster, and feares not To wound the ame of Princes, if it find But any blemish in their liues to worke on. But Ile bee plainer with you had the people Bin learnd to speake, but what euen now I saw, Their malice out of that would raise an engine To ouerthrow your honor. In my sight (With yonder pointed foole I frighted from you) You vs'd familiarity beyond A modest entertaynment: you embrac'd him With too much ardor for a stranger, and Met him with kisses neythr chaste nor comely But learne you to forget him, as I will Your bounties to him, you will find it safr Rather to bee vncourtly, then immodest. Beau. This pety rag about your necke shews well, And being coorse and little worth, it speakes you, As terrible as thrifty. Rom. Madam. Beau. Yes. And this strong belt in which you hang your honor Will out-last twenty scarfs. Rom. What meane you, Lady? Beau. And all else about you Cap a pe, So vniforme in spite of handsomnesse, Shews such a bold contempt of comelinesse, That tis not strange your Laundresse in the League, Grew mad with loue of you. Rom. Is my free counsayle. Answerd with this ridiculous scorne? Beau. These obiects Stole very much of my attention from me, Yet something I remember, to speake tuth, Deceyued grauely, but to little purpose, That almost would haue made me sweare, some Curate Had stolne into the person of Romont, And in the praise of good wife honesty, Had read an homely. Rom. By thy hand. Beau. And sword, I will make vp your oath, twill want weight else. You are angry with me, and poore I laugh at it. Do you come from the Campe, which affords onely The conuersation of cast suburbe whores, To set downe to a Lady of my ranke, Lymits of entertainmmen? Rom. Sure a Legion has possest this woman. Beau. One stamp more would do well: yet I desire not You should grow horne-mad, till you haue a wife. You are come to warme meate, and perhaps cleane linnen Feed, weare it, and bee thankfull. For me, know, That though a thousand watches were set on mee, And you the Master-spy, I yet would vse, The liberty that best likes mee. I will reuell, Feast, kisse, imbreace, perhaps grant larger fauours: Yet such as liue vpon my meanes, shall know They must not murmur at it. If my Lord Bee now growne yellow, and has chose out you To serue his Iealouzy that way, tell him this, You haue something to informe him. Exit Bau. Rom. And I will. Beleeue it wicked one I will. Heare, Heauen, But hearing pardon mee: if these fruts grow Vpon the tree of marriage, let m shun it, As a forbidden sweete. An heyre and rich, Young, beautifull, yet adde to this a wife, And I wil rather choose a Spittle sinner Cared an age before, though three parts rotten, And take it for a blessing, rather then Be fettered to the hellish slauery Of such an impudence. Enter Baumont with writings. Bau. Collonl, good fotne To meet you thus: you looke sad, but Ile tell you Something that shall remoue it. Oh how happy Is my Lord Charaloys in his faire bride! Rom. A happy man indeede!—pray you in what? Bau. I dare sweare, you would thinke so good a Lady, A dower suficient. Rom. No doubt. But on. Bau. So faire, so chaste, so vertuous: so indeed All that is excellent. Rom. Women haue no cunning to gull the world. Bau. Yet to all these, my Lord Her father giues the full addition of All he does now possesse in Burgundy: These writings to confirme it, are new seal'd And I most fortunate to present him with them, I must goe seeke him out, can you direct me? Rom. You'l finde him breaking a young horse. Bau. I thanke you. Exit Baumont. Rom. I must do something worthy Charaloys friendship. If she were well inclin'd to keepe her so, Deseru'd not thankes: and yet to stay a woman Spur'd headlong by hot lust, to her owne ruine, Is harder then to prop a falling towre With a deceiuing reed. Eter Rochfort. Roch. Some one seeke for me, As soone as he returnes. Rom. Her father! ha? How if I breake this to him? sure it cannot Meete with an ill construction. His wisedome Made powerfull by the authority of a father, Will warrant and giue priuiledge to his counsailes. It shall be so— my Lord. Roch. Your friend Romont: would you ought with me? Rom. I stand so ingag'd To your so many fauours, that I hold it A breach in thankfulnesse, should I not discouer, Though with some imputation to my selfe, All doubts tha may concerne you. Roch. The performance Will make this protestation worth my thanks. Rom. Then with your patience lend me your attention For what I must deliuer, whispered onely You will with too much griefe receiue. Enter Beaumelle, Bellapert. Beau. See wench! Vpon my life as I forespake, hee's now Preferring his complaint: but be thou perfect, And we will fit him. Bell. Feare not me, pox on him: A Captaine turne Informer against kissing? Would he were hang'd vp in his rusty Armour: But if our fresh wits cannot turne the plots Of such a mouldy murrion on it selfe; Rich cloathes, choyse fare, and a true friend at a call, With all the pleasures the night yeelds, forsake vs. Roch. This in my daughter? doe not wrong her. Bell. Now begin. The games afoor, and wee in distance. Beau. Ts thy fault, foolsh girle, pinne on my vaile, I will not weare thoe iewels. Am I not Already matcht beyond my hopes? yet still You prune and set me forth, as if I were Againe to please a suyter. Bell. Tis the course That our great Ladies take. Rom. A weake excuse. Beau. Those that are better seene, in what concern A Ladies honour and faire fame, condemne it. You waite well, in your absence, my Lords friend The vnderstanding, graue and wise Romont. Rom. Must I be still her sport Beau. Reproue me for it. And he has traueld to bring home a iudgement Not to be contradicted. You will say My father, that owes more to yeeres then he, Has brought me vp to musique, language, Courtship, And I must vse them. True, but not t'offend, O render me suspected. Roch. Does your fine story begin from this? Beau. I thought a parting kisse From young Nouall, would haue displeasd no more Then heretofore it hath done; but I finde I must restrayne such fauours now; looke therefore As you are carefull to continue mine, That I no more be visied. Ile endure The strictest course of life that iealousie Can thinke secure enough, ere my behauiour Shall call my fame in question. Rom. Ten dissemblers Are in this subtile deuill. You beleeue this? Roch. So farre that if you trouble me againe With a report like this, I shall not onely Iudge you malicious in your disposition, But study to repent what I haue done To such a nature. Rom. Why, 'tis exceeding well. Roch. And for you, daughter, off with this, off with it: I haue that confidence in your goodnesse, I, That I will not consent to haue you liue Like to a Recluse in a cloyster: goe Call in the gallants, let them make you merry, Vse all fit liberty. Bell. Blessing on you. If this new preacher with the sword and feather Could proue his doctrine for Canonicall, We should haue a fine world. Exit Bellapert. Roch. Sir, if you please To beare your selfe as fits a Gentleman, The house is at your seruice: but i not, Though you seeke company else where, your absenc Will not be much lamented— Exit Rochfort, Rom. If this be The recompence of striuing to preserue A wanton gigglet honest, very shortly 'Twill make all mankinde Panders—Do you smile, Good Lady Loosenes? your whole sex is like you And that man's mad that seekes to better any: What new change haue you next? Beau. Oh, feare not you, sir, Ile shift into a thousand, but I will Conuert your heresie. Rom. What heresie? Speake. Beau. Of keeping a Lady that is married, From entertayning seruants. — Enter Nouall I. Mala∣tine, Liladam, Aymer, Pontalier. O, you are welcome. Vse any meanes to vexe him, And then with welcome follow me. Exit Bau Nou. You are tyr'd With your graue exhortations, Collonell. Lilad. How is it? Fayth, your Lordship may doe well, To helpe him to some Church-preferment'tis Now the fashion, for men of all conditions, How euer they haue liu'd, to end that way. Aym. That face would doe well in a surplesse. Rom. Rogues, be silent—or— Pont. S' death will you suffer this? Rom. And you, the master Rogue, the coward rascall, I shall be with you suddenly. Nou. Pontallier, If I should strike him, I know I shall kill him: And therefore I would haue thee beate him, for Hee's good for nothing else. Lilad. His backe Appeares to me, as it would tire a Badl, And then he has a knotted brow, would bruise A court like hand to touch it. Aym. Hee lookes like A Curryer when his hides grown deare. Pont. Take heede he curry not some of you. Nou. Gods me, hee's angry. Rom. I breake no Iets, but I can breake my sword About your pates. Enter Charaloyes and Baumont. Lila. Heres more. Aym. Come let's bee gone. VVee are beleaguerd. Nou. Looke they bring vp their troups. Pont. Will you sit downe with this disgrace? You are abus'd most grosely. Lila. I grant you, Sir, we are, and you would haue vs Stay and be more abus'd. Nou. My Lord, I am sorry, Your house is so inhospitable, we must quit it. Exeunt. Manent Char. Rom. Cha. Prethee Romont, what caus'd this vprore? Rom. Nothing. They laugh'd and vs'd their scuruy wits vpon mee. Char. Come, tis thy Iealous nature: but I wonder That you which are an honest man and worthy, Should foster this suspition: no man laughes; No one can whisper, but thou apprehend'st His conference and his scorne reflects on thee: For my part they should scoffe their thin wits out, So I not heard 'em, beate me, not being there. Leaue, leaue these fits, to conscious men, to such As are obnoxious, to those foolish things As they can gibe at. Rom. VVell, Sir. Char. Thou art know'n Valiant without detect, right defin'd, Which is (as fearing to doe iniury, As tender to endure it) not a brabbler, A swearer. Rom. Pish, pish, what needs this my Lord? If I bee knowne none such, how vainly, you Do cast away good counsaile? I haue lou'd you, And yet must freely speake: so young a utor, Fits not so old a Souldier as I am. And I must tell you, t'was in your behalfe I grew inraged thus, yet had rather dye, Then open the great cause a syllable further. Cha. In my behalfe? wherein hath Charalois Vnfitly so demen'd himselfe, to giue The least occasion to the loosest tongue, To throw aspersions on him, or so weakely Protected his owne honor, as it should Need a defence from any but himselfe? They are fooles that iudge me by my outward seeming, Why should my gentlenesse beget abuse? The Lion is not angry that does sleepe, Nor euery man a Coward that can weepe. For Gods sake speake the cause. Rom. Not for the world. Oh it will strike disease into your bones Beyond the cure of physicke, drinke your blood, Rob you of all your rest, contract your sight, Leaue you no eyes but to see misery, And of your owne, nor speach but to wish thus Would I had perish'd in the prisons iawes: From whence I was redeem'd twill weare you old, Before you haue experience in that Art, That causes your affliction. Cha. Thou dost strike A deathfull coldnesse to my harts high heate, And shrinkst my liuer like the Calnture. Declare this foe of mine, and lifes, that like A man I may encounter and subdue it, It shall not haue one such effect in mee, As thou denouncest: with a Souldiers arme If it be strength Ile meet it: if a fault Belonging to my mind, Ile cut it off VVith mine owne reason, as a Scholler hould Speake, though it make mee monstrous. Rom. Ile dye first. Farewell, continue merry, and high Heauen Keepe your wife chaste. Char. Hump, stay and take this wolfe Out of my bret, that thou hast lodg'd there, or For euer lose mee. Rom. Lose not, Sir, your selfe. And I will venture—So the dore is fast. Locke the dore. Now noble Charaloys, collect your selfe, Summon your spirits, muster all you strength That can belong to man, sift passion, From euery veine, and whatsoeuer ensues, Vpbraid not me heereafter, as the cause of Iealousy, discontent, slaughter and ruine: Make me not parent to sinne: you will know This secret that I burne with. Char. Diuell on't, What should it be? Romont, I hear you wish My wifes continuance of Chastity. Rom. There was no hurt in that. Cha. Why? do you know a likelyhood or possibility Vnto the contrarie? Rom. I know it not, but doubt it, these the ground The seruant of your wife now young Nouall, The sonne vnto yor fathers Enemy (Which aggrauates my presumption the more) I haue bin ward of, touching her, nay, seene them Tye heart to heart, one in anothers arme, Multiplying kisses, as if they meant To pose Arithmeticke, or whose eyes would Be first burnt out, with gazing on the others I saw their mouthes engender, and their palmes Glew'd, a if Loue had lockt them, their words flow And melt each others, like two circling flames, Where chastity, like a Phoenix (me thought) burn'd, But left the world nor ashes, nor an heire. Why stand you silent thus? what cold dull flegme, As if you had no drop of choller mixt In your whole constitution, thus preuailes, To fix you now, thus tupid hearing thi? Cha. You did ot see 'em on my Couch within, Like George a horse-backe, on her, nor a bed? Rom. Noe. Cha. Ha, ha. Rom. Laugh yee? ene so did your wife, Ahd r indulgent father. Cha. They were wise. Wouldst ha me be a foole? Rom. No, but a man. Cha. There is no dramme of manhood to suspect, On such thi ayrie circumstance as this Meere complement and courtship. Was this tale The hydeous monster which you so conceal'd? Away, thou curious impertinent And idle searcher of such leane nice toyes. Goe, thou sedicious sower of debate: Fly to such matches, where the bridegroome doubts: He holdes not worth enough to counteruaile The vertue and the beauty of his wie. Thou buzzing drone that 'bout my eares dost hum, To strike thy rankling sting into my heart, Whose venom, time, nor medicine could asswage. Thus doe I put thee off, and confident In mine owne innocency, and desert, Dare not conceiue her so vnreasonable, To put Nouall in ballance against me, An vpstart cran'd vp to the height he has. Hence busiebody, thou 'rt no friend to me That must be kept to a wiues iniury, Rom. Ist possible? farewell, fine, honest man, Sweet temper'd Lord adie what Apoplxy Hath knit sence vp? Is this Romonts reward? Beare witnes the great spirit of my father, With what a healthfull hope I administer This potion that hath wrought so virulently. I not accuse thy wife of act, but would Preuent her Praecipuce, to thy dishonour, Which now thy tardy sluggishnesse will admit. Would I had seene thee grau'd with thy great Sire, Ere liue to haue mens marginall fingers point At Charaloys, as a lamented story. An Emperour put away his wife for touching Another man, but thou wouldst haue thine tasted And keepe her (I thinke.) Puffe. I am a fire To warme a dead man, that waste out my selfe. Bleed—what a plague, a vengeance 'st to mee, If you will be a Cuckold? heere I shew A swords point to thee, this side you may shun, Or that the perrill, if you will runne on, I cannot helpe it. Cha. Didst thou nuer see me Angry, Romont? Rom. Yes, and pursue foe Like lightening. Char. Prethee see me so no more. I can be so againe. Put vp thy sword, And take thy selfe away, lest I draw mine Rom. Come fright your foes with this: sir, I am your friend, And dare stand by you thus. Char. Thou art not my friend, Or being so, thou art mad, I must not buy Thy friendship at this rate; had I iust cause, Thou knowst I durst pursue such iniury Through fire, ayre, water, earth, nay, were they all Shuffled againe to Chaos, but ther's none. Thy skill, Romont, consists in camps, not courts. Farewell, vnciuill man, let's meet no more. Heere our long web of friendship I vntwist. Shall I goe whine, walke pale, and locke my wife For nothing, from her births free liberty, That open'd mine to me? yes; if I doe The name of cuckold then, dog me with scorne. I am a Frenchman, no Italian borne. Exit. Rom, A dull Dutch rather: fall and coole (my blood) Boyle not in zeale of thy friends hurt, so high, That is so low, and cold himselfe in't. Woman, How strong art thou, how easily beguild? How thou dost racke vs by the very hornes? Now wealth I see change manners and the man: Something I must do mine owne wrath to asswage, And note my friendship to an after-age. Exit. Acus quartus. Scaena prima. Enter Nouall Iunior, as newly dressed, a Taylor, Barber, Perfumer, Liladam, Aymour, Page. Nou.

MEnd this a little pox! thou hast burnt me. oh fie vpon't, O Lard, hee has made me smell (for all the world) like a flaxe, or a red headed womans chamber: powder, powder, powder.

Perf.

Oh sweet Lord! Nouall sits in a chaire,

Page.

That's his Perfumer. Baerber orders his haire,

Tayl.

Oh deare Lord, Perfumer giues powder,

Page.

That's his Taylor. Taylor sets his clothes.

Nou.

Monsieur Liladam, Aymour, how allow you the modell of these clothes?

Aym.

Admirably, admirably, oh sweet Lord! assuredly it's pitty the wormes should eate thee.

Page.

Here's a fine Cell; a Lord, a Taylor, a Perfumer, a Barber, and a paire of Mounsieurs: 3 to 3, as little will in the one, as honesty in the other. S'foote ile into the country a∣gne, learne to speake truth, drinke Ale, and conuerse with my fathers Tenants; here I heare nothing all day, but vpon my soule as I am a Gentleman, and an honest man.

Aym.

I vow and affirme, your Taylor must needs be an ex∣pert Geometrician, he has the Longitude, Latitude, Alti∣tude, Profundity, euery Demension of your body, so ex∣quisitely, here's a lace layd as directly, as if truth were a Taylor.

Page.

That were a miracle.

Lila.

With a haire breadth's errour, ther's a shoulder piece cut, and the base of a pickdille in puncto.

Aym.

You are right, Mounsieur his vestaments sit: as if they grew vpon him, or art had wrought 'em on the same loome, as nature fram'd his Lordship as if your Taylor were deepely read in Astrology, and had taken measure of your honourable body, with a Iacobs staffe, an Ephimeri∣des.

Tayl.

I am bound t'ee Gentlemen.

Page.

You are deceiu'd, they'l be bound to you, you must remember to trust 'em none.

Nou.

Nay, fayth, thou art a reasonable near Artificer, giue the diuell his due.

Page.

I, if hee would but cut the coate according to the cloth still.

Nou.

I now want onely my misters approbation, who is indeed, the most polite punctuall Queene of dressing in all Burgundy Pah, and makes all other young Ladies appeare, as if they came from boord last weeke out of the country, Is't not tue, Liladam?

Lila.

True my Lord, as if any thing your Lordship could say, could be otherwise then true.

Nou.

Nay, my soule, 'tis so, what fouler obiect in the world, then to see a young faire, handsome beauty, vnhand∣somely dighted ad incongruently accoured; or a hopefull Cheualier, vnmethodically appointed, in the externall orna∣ments of nature? For euen as the Index tels vs the contents of stories, and directs to the particular Chapters, euen s does the outward habit and superficiall order of garments (in man oman) giue vs a tast of the spirit, and demon∣stratiuely poynt (as it were a manuall note from the margin) all the internll quality, and habiliment of the soule, and there cannot be a more euident, palpable, grose manifesta∣tion of poore degenerate dunghilly blood, and breeding, then rude, vnpolish'd, disordered and sloenly outside.

Page.

An admirable lecture. Oh all you gallants, that hope to be saued by your cloathes, edify, edify.

Aym.

By the Lard, sweet Lard, thou deseru'st a pension o'the Stte.

Page.

Oth' Taylors, two such Lords were able to spred Taylors ore the face of a whole kingdome.

Nou.

Pox a this glase lit flatters, I could find in my heart to breake it.

Page.

O saue the glase my Lord, and breake their heads, they are the greater flatterers I assure you.

Aym. Flatters, detracts, impayres, yet put it by, Lest thou deare Lord (Narcissus-like) should doate Vpon thy selfe, and dye and rob the world Of natures copy, that she workes forme by. Lila. Oh that I were the Infanta Queene of Europe, Who (but thy selfe sweete Lord) shouldst marry me. Nou. I marry? wee there a Qeene oth' world, not I. Wedlocke? no padlooke, horslocke, I weare spurrs H capers. To keepe it off my heeles; yet my Aymour, Like a free wanton iennet i'th meddows, I looke about, and neigh, take hedge and ditch, Feed in my neghbours pastures, picke my choyce Of all their faire-maind mares: but married once, A man i stak'd, or pown'd, and cannot graze Beyond his owne hedge. Enter Pontallier, and Malotin. Pont. I haue waited, sir, Three houres to speake w'ee, and not take it well, Such magpies, are admitted, whilst I dunce Attendance. Lla.

Magpies? what d'ee take me for?

Pont.

A long thing with a most vnpromising face.

Aym.

I'll ne're aske him, what he takes me for

Mal. Doe not, sir, For hee'l goe neere to tell you. Pont. Art not thou a Barber Surgeon? Barb. Yes sira why? Pont. My Lord is sorely troubled with two scabs Lila. Aym. Humph— Pont. I prethee cure him of 'em. Nou. Pish: no more, Thy gall sure's ouerthrowne; these are my Councell, And we were now in serious discourse. Pont. Of perfume and apparell, can you rise And spend 5 houres in drssing talke, with these? Nou. Thou 'ldst haue me be a dog: vp, stretch and shake, And ready for all day. Pont. Sir, would you be More curious in preseruing of your honour. Trim, 'twere more manly. I am come to wake Your reputation, from this lethargy You let it sleepe in, to perswade, importune, Nay, to prouoke you, sir, to call to account This Collonell Romont, for the foule wrong Which like a buthen, he hath layd on you, And like a dunken porter, you sleepe vnder. 'Tis all the towne tlkes, and beleeue, sir, If your tough sence persist thus, you are vndone, Vtterly lost, you will be scornd and bafled By euery Lacquay; season now your youth, With one braue thing, and it shall keep the odour Euen to your death, beyond, and on your Tombe, Sent like sweet oyles and Frankincense; sir, this life Which once you sau'd, I ne're since counted mine, I borrow'd it of you; and now will pay it; I tender you the serice of my sword To beare your challenge, if you'l write, your fate: Ile make mine owne: what ere betide you, I That haue liu'd by you, by your side will dye. Nou. Ha, ha, would'st ha' me challenge poore Romont? Fight with close breeches, thou mayst thinke I dare not. Doe not mistake me (cooze) I am very valiant, But valour shall not make me such an Asse. What vse is there of valour (now a dayes?) 'Tis sure, or to be kill'd, or to be hang'd. Fight thou as thy minde moues thee, 'tis thy trade, Thou hast nothing else to doe; fight with Romont? No, i'le not fight vnder a Lord. Pont. Farewell, sir, I pitty you. Such louing Lords walke their dead honours graues, For no companions fit, but fooles and knaues. Come Malotin. Exeunt Pont. Mal. Enter Romont. Lila.

'Sfoot, Colbran, the low gyant.

Aym.

He has brought a battaile in his face, let's goe.

Page.

Colbran d'ee call him? hee'l make some of you smoake, I beleeue.

Rom.

By your leaue, sirs.

Aym.

Are you a Consort?

Rom. D'ee take me for A fidler? ya're deceiu'd: looke. Ile pay you. Kickes 'em. Page.

It seemes he knows you one, he bumfiddles you so

Lila

Was there euer so base a fellow?

Aym.

A rascall?

Lila.

A most vnciuill Groome?

Aym.

Offer to kicke a Gentleman, in a Noblemans cham∣ber? A pox of your manners

Lila.

Let him alone, let him alone, thou shalt lose ty arme, fellow: if wee stirre agaist thee, hang vs.

Page.

S'foote, I thinke they haue the better on him though they be kickd, they talke so.

Lila.

Let's leaue the mad Ape.

Nou.

Gentlemen.

Lilad.

Nay, my Lord, we will not offer to dishonour you so much as to stay by you, since hee's alone.

Nou.

Harke you.

Aym.

We doubt the cause, and will not disparage you, so much as to take your Lordships quarrell in hand. Plague on him, how he has crumpled our band.

Page.

le eene away with 'em, for this souldier beates man, woman, and child. Exeunt, Maent No. Rom.

Nou.

What meane you, sir? My people.

Rom. You boye's gone, Lockes the doore. And doore's lockt, yet for no hurt to you, But priuacy: call vp your blood againe, sir be not affraid, I do Bseech you, sir, (and therefore come) without more cir∣cumstance Tell me how farre the passages haue gone 'Twixt you, and your faire Mistresse Beaumelle. Tell me the truth, and by my hope of Heauen It neuer shall goe further. Nou. Tell you why sir? Are you my confessor? Rom. I will be your confounder, if you doe not. Drawes a pockt dag. Stirre not, nor spend your voyce. Nou. What will you doe? Rom. Nothing but lyne your brayne-pan, sir, with lead, If you not satisfie me suddenly, I am desperate of my life, and command yours. Nou. Hold, hold, ile speake. I vow to heauen and you, Shee's yet vntouch't, more then her face and hands: cannot call her innocent; for I yeeld On my sollicitous wrongs she consented Where time and place met oportunity To grant me all requests. Rom. But may I build on this assurance? Nou. As vpon your fayth. Drawes Inkehorne and paper. Rom. Write this, sir, nay you must. Nou. Pox of this Gunne. Rom. Withall, sir, you must sweare, and put your oath Vnder your hand, (shake not) ne're to frequent This Ladies company, nor euer send Token, or message, or letter, to incline This (too much prone already) yeelding Lady. Nou. 'Tis done, sir. Rom. Let me see, this first is right, And hre you wish a sudden death my light Vpon your body, and hell take your soule, If euer more you see her, but by chance, Much lesse allure her. Now, my Lord, your hand. Nou. My hand to this? Rom. Your heart else I assure you. Nou. Nay, there 'tis. Rom. So keepe this last article Of your fayth giuen, and stead of threatnings sir, The seruice of my sword and life is yours: But not a word of it, 'tis Fairies treasure; Which but reueal'd, brings on the blabbrs, ruine. Vse your youth better, and this excellent forme Heauen hath bestowed vpon you. So good morrow to your Lordship. Nou. Good diuell to your rogueship. No man's safe Ile haue a Cannon planted in my chamber, Exit. Against such roaring roagues. Enter Bellapert. Bell. My Lord away The Coach stayes: now haue your wish, and iudge, If I haue bene forgetfull. Nou. Ha? Bell. D'ee stand Humming and hawing now? Eit. Nou. Sweete wench, I come. Hence feare, I swore, that's all one, my next oath 'ile keepe That I did meane to breake, and then 'tis quit. No paine is due to louers periury. If loue himselfe lugh at it, so will I. Exit Nouall, Scna 2. Enter Charaloys, Baumnt. Bau. I grieue for the distaste, though I haue manners, No o inquire the cause, fle out betweene Your Lordship and Romont. Cha. I loue a friend, So ong as he continues in the bounds Prscrib'd by friendship, but when he vsurpes Too arre on what is proper to my selfe, And puts th habit of a Gouernor on, I must and will presrue my liberty. But spake of something, else this is a theame I take no pleasure in: what's this Aymire, Whose voyce for Song, and excllnt knowledge in The chiefest parts of Musiqu, you bestow Such prayses on? Bau. He is a Gentleman, (For so his quality speakes him) well receiu'd Among our greatest Gallants; but yet holds His maine dependance from the young Lord Nouall: Some trickes and crotchets he has in his head, As all Musicians haue, and more of him I dare not author: but when you haue heard him, I may presume, your Lordship so will like him, That you'l hereafter be a friend to Musique. Cha. I neuer was an enemy to't, Baumont, Nor yet doe I subscribe to the opinion Of those old Captaines, that thought nothing musicall, But cries of yeelding enemies, neighing of horses, Clashing of armour, lowd shouts, drums, and trumpets: Nor on the other side in fauour of it, Affirme the world was made by musicall discord, Or that the happinesse of our life consists In a well varied note vpon the Lute: I loue it to the worth of it, and no further. But le vs see this wonder. Bau. He preuents my calling of him. Aym. Let the Coach be brought Enter Aymiere. To the backe gate, and serue the banquet vp: My good Lord Charalos, I thinke my house Much honor'd in your presence. Cha. To haue meanes, To know you better, sir, has brought me hiher A willing vilitant, and you'l crowne my welcome In making me a witnesse to your skill, Which crediting from others I admire. Aym. Had I beene one houre sooner made acquainted With your intent my Lord, you should haue found me Better prouided: now such as it is, Pray you grace with your acceptance. Bau. You are modest. Aym. Begin the last new ayre. Cha. Shall we not see them? Aym. This little distance from the instruments Will to your eares conuey the harmony With more delight. Cha. Ile not consent. Aym. Y'are tedious, By this meanes shall I with one banquet please Two companies, those within and these Guls heere. Song aboue. Musique and a Song, Beaumelle within—ha, ha, ha. Cha. How's this? It is my Ladies laugh most certaine When I first pleas'd her, in this merry language, She gaue me thanks. Bau. How like you this? Cha. 'Tis rare, Yet I may be deceiu'd, and should be sorry Vpon vncertaine suppositions, rashly To write my selfe in the blacke list of those I haue declaym'd against, and to Romont. Aym. I would he were well of—perhaps your Lordship Likes not these sad tunes, I haue a new Song Set to a lighter note, may please you better; 'Tis cal'd The happy husband. Cha. Pray sing it. Song below. At the end of the Song, Beamelle within. Beau. Ha, ha, 'tis such a groome. Ca. Doe I heare this, and yet stand doubtfull? Exit Chara Aym. Stay him I am vndone, And they discouered. Bau. Whats the matter? Aym. Ah! That woen, when they are well pleas'd, cannot hold, But must laugh out. Enter Nouall lu. Charaloys, Beaumely, Bellaprt. Nou. Helpe, aue me, murther, murther. Be. Vndone foreuer. Cha. Oh, my heart! Hold yet a little—doe not hope to scape By flight, it is impossible: though I might On all aduantage take thy life, and iustly; This sword, my fathers sword, that nere was drawne, But to a noble purpose, shall not now Doe th' office of a hangman, I reserue it To right mine honour, not for a reuenge So poore, that though with thee, it should cut off Thy family, with all that are allyed To thee in lust, or basenesse, 'twere still short of All termes of satisfaction. Draw. Nou. I dare not, I haue already done you too much wrong, To fight in such a cause. Cha. Why, darest thou neyther Be honest, coward, nor yet valiant, knaue? In such a cause come doe not shame thy selfe Such whose bloods wrongs, or wrong done to themselues Could neuer heate, are yet in the defence Of their whores, daring looke on her againe. You thought her worth the hazard of your soule, And yet stand doubtfull in her quarrell, to Venture your body. Bau. No, he feares his cloaths, more then his flesh Cha. Keepe from me garde thy life, Or as thou hast liu'd like a goate, thou shalt Dye like a sheepe. Nou. Since ther's no remedy They fight, Nouall is slaine. Despaire o safety now in me proue courage. Cha. How soone weak wrong's orth owne lend me your hand, Beare this to the Caroach—come, you haue taught me To say you must and shall: I wrong you not, Y'are but to keepe him company you loue. Is't don? 'tis well. Raise officers, and take care, All you can apprehend within the house May be forth comming. Do I appeare much mou'd? Bau. No sir. Cha. My griefes are now, Thus to be borne Hereafter ie finde time and place to mourne. Exeunt. Scaena 3. Enter Romont, Pontalier. Pont. I was bound to seeke you, sir. Rom. And had you found me In any place, but in the streete, I should Haue done,—not talk'd to you. Ae you the Captaine? The hopefull Pontalier? whom I haue seene Doe in the filo such seuic, as then made you Their enuy that commanded, here at home To play the parasite to a gilded knaue, And it may be the Pander. Pont. Without this I come to call yu to account, for what Is past already. I by yur example Of thankfulnesse to the dead Generall By whom you were rais'd, haue practis'd to be so To my good Lord Nouall, by whom I liue; Whose least disgrace that is, or may be offred, With all the hazzard of my life and fortunes, I will make good on you, or any man, That has a hand in't; and since you allowe me A Gentlman and a souldier, there's no doubt You will except against me. You shall meete With a faire enemy, you vnderstand The right I looke for, and must haue. Rom. I doe, And with the next dayes sunne you shall heare from me. Exeun. Scaena 4. Enter Charalois with a casket, Beaumelle, Baumont. Cha. Pray beare this to my fathr, at his leasure He may peuse it: but with your best language Intreat his instant presence: you haue sworne Not to reueale what I haue done. Bau. Nor will I—but — Cha. Doubt me not, by Heauen, I will doe nothing But what may stand with honour: Pray you leaue me To my owne thoughts. If this be to me, rise; I am not worthy the looking on, but onely To feed contempt and scorne, and that from you Who with the losse of your faire name haue caus'd it, Were too much cruelty. Beau. I dare not moue you To heare me speake I know my fault is farre Beyond qualification, or excuse That 'tis not fit for me to hope, or you To thinke of mercy; onely I presume To intreate, you would be pleas'd to looke vpon My sorrow for it, and beleeue, these teares Are the true children of my griefe and not A womans cunning. Cha. Can you Beaumelle, Hauing deceiued so great a trust as mine, Though I were all credulity, hope againe To get beleefe? no, no, if you looke on me With pity or dare practise any meanes To make my sufferings lesse, or giue iust cause To all the world, to thinke what I must doe, Was cal'd vpon by you, vse other waies, Deny what I haue seene, or iustifie What you haue done, and as you desperately Made shipwracke of your fayth to be a whore, Vse th' armes of such a one, and such defence, And multiply the sinne, with impudence, Stand boldly vp, and tell me to my teeth, You haue done but what's warranted, By great examples, in all places, where Women inhabit, vrge your owne deserts, Or want of me in merit; tell me how, Your dowre from the low gulfe of pouerty, Weighd vp my fortunes, to what now they are That I was purchas'd by your choyse, and practise To shelter you from shame: that you might sinne As boldly as securely, that poore men Are married to those wiues that bring them wealth, One day their husbands, but obseruers euer: That when by this prou'd vsage you haue blowne The fire of my iust vengeance to the height. I then may kill you: and yet say 'twas done In heate of blood, and after die my selfe, To witnesse my repentance. Beau. O my fate, That neuer would consent that I should see, How worthy thou wert both of loue and duty Before I lost you; and my misery made The glasse, in which I now behold your vertue: While I was good, I was a part of you, And of two by the vertuous harmony Of our faire mindes, made one: but since I wandred In the forbidden Labyrinth of lust, What was inseparable, is by me diuided. With iustice therefore you may cut me off, And from your memory, wash the remembrance That ere I was like to some vicious purpose Within your better iudgement, you repent of And study to forget. Cha. O Beaumelle, That yo can speake so well, and doe so ill! But you had bin too great a blessing, if You had continued chast: see how you force me To this, because mine honour will not yeeld That I againe should loue you. Beau. In this life It is not fit you shoud: yet you shall finde, Though I was bold enough to be a strumpet, I dare not yet liue one: let those fam'd matrones That are canoniz'd worthy of our sex, Transcend me in their sanctity of life, I yet will quall them in dying nobly, Ambitious of no honour after life, B that when I am dead, you will forgiue me. Ca. How pity steales vpon me! should I heare her en words more, I were lost—one knocks, go in. Knock within. Exit Beau∣elle. to be mercifull shuld be a sinne. , sir, most welcome. Lt me take your cloake, Exit Beau∣melle. Enter Rocfort. not be denyed —here are your robes, you loue iustice once more put them on: ere is a cause to be determind of That doe's requie such an integrity, As you haue euer vs'd—ile put you to The ryall of your constancy, and goodnesse: And looke that you that haue beene Eagle-eyd In other mens affaires, proue not a Mole In what concernes your selfe. Tke you your seate I wil be for you presently. Exit. Roch. Angels guard me, To what strange Tragedy does this destruction Serue for a Prologue? Enter Charalois, with Nouals body. Beaumelle, Bau∣mont. Cha. So, set it downe before The udgement seate, and stand you at the bar: For me? I am the accuser. Roch. Nouall slayne, And Beaumelle my daughter in the place O one to be arraig'd. Cha. O, are you touch'd? finde that I must take an other course, eare nothing. I will onely blinde your eyes, or Iustice should do so, when 'tis to meete n obiect that may sway her equall doome From what it should be aim'd at.— Good my Lord, A day of hearing. Roch. It is granted, speake—you shall haue iustice. Cha. I then here accuse, Most equall Iudge, the prisoner your faire Daughter. For whom I owed so much to you: your daughter, So worthy in her owne parts: and that worth St forth by yours, to whose so rare perfections, Truth witnesse with me, in the place of seruice I most pay'd Idolatrous sacrifice To be a alse advltresse. Roch. With whom? Cha. With this Nouall here dead. Roch Be wel aduis'd And ere you say adultresse againe, Her fame depending on it, be most sure That she is one. Cha. I tooke them in the act. I know no proofe beyond it. Roch. O my heart. Cha. A Iudge should feele no passions. Roch. Yet remember He is a man, and cannot put off nature. What answere makes the prisoner? Beau. I confesse The fact I am charg'd with, and yeeld my selfe Most miserably guilty. Roch. Heauen take mercy Vpon your soule them it must leaue your body. Now free mine eyes, I dare vnmou'd looke on her. And fortifie my sentence, with strong reasons. Since that the politique law prouides that seruants, To whose care we commit our goods shall die, If they abuse or trust: what can you looke for, To whose charge this most hopefull Lord gaue vp All hee receiu'd from his braue Ancestors, Or he could leaue to his posterity? His Honour, wicked woman, in whose safety All this lifes ioyes, and comforts were locked vp, With thy lust, a theefe hath now stolne from him, And therefore— Cha. Stay, iust Iudge, may not what's lost By her owne fault, (for I am charitable, And charge her not with many) be forgotten In her faire life hereafter? Roch. Neuer, Sir. The wrong that's done to the chaste married bed, Repentant teares can neuer expiate, And be assured, to pardon such a sinne, s an offence as great as to commit it. Cha. I may not then forgiue her. Roch. Nor she hope it. Nor can shee wish to liue no sunne shall rise, But ere it set, shall shew her vgly lust In a new shape, and euery on more horrid: Nay, euen those prayers, which with such humble feruor She seemes to send vp yonder, are beate backe, And all suites, which her penitence can proffer, As soone as made, are with contempt throwne Off all the courts of mercy. He kils her. Cha. Let her die then. Better prepar'd I am. Sure I could not take her, Nor she accuse her father, as a Iudge Partiall against her. Beau. I approue his sentence, And kisse the executioner: my lust Is now run from me in that blood in which It was begot and nourished. Roch. Is she dead then? Cha. Yes, sir, this is her heart blood, is it not? I thinke it be. Roch. And you haue kild her? Cha. True, and did it by your doome Roch. But I pronounc'd it As a Iudge onely, and friend to iustice, And zalous in defence of your wrong'd honour, Broke all the tyes of nature and cast off The loue and soft affection of a father. I in your cause, put on a Scalet robe Of red died cruelty, but in returne, You haue aduanc'd for me no flag of mercy: I look'd on you, as a wrong'd husband, but You clos'd your eyes against me, as a father. O Beaumelle, my daughter. Cha. This is madnesse. Roch. Keep from me—could not one good thought rise vp, To tell you that she was my ages comfort, Begot by a weake man, and borne a woman, And could not therefore, but partake of frailety? Or wherefore did not thankfulnesse step forth, To vrge my many merits, which I may Obiect vnto you, since you proue vngratefull, Flinty-hearted Charaloys? Cha. Nature does preuaile aboue your vertue. Roch. No: it giues me eyes, To pierce the heart of designe against me. finde it now, it was may state was aym'd at, A nobler match was sought for, and the houres I liu'd, grew teadious to you: my compassion Towards you hath rendred me most miserable, And foolish charity vndone my selfe: But ther's a Heauen aboue, from whose iust wreake No mists of policy can hide offendors. Enter Nouall s. with Officers. Nou. se Force ope the doors—O monster, caniball, Lay hold on him, my sonne, my sonne.—O Rochfort, 'Twas you gaue liberty to this bloody wolfe To worry all our comforts,—But this is No time to quarrell; now giue your assistance For the reuenge. Roch. Call it a fitter name—Iustice for innocent blood. Cha. Though all conspire Against that life which I am weary of, A little longer yet ile striue to keepe it, To shew in spit of malice, and their lawes, His pla must speed that hath an honest cause. Exeunt. Actus quintus. Scaena prima Enter Liladam, Taylor, Officers. Lila. VVHy 'tis both most vnconscionable, and vntimely T' arrest a gallant for his cloaths, before He has worne them out: besides you sayd you ask'd My name in my Lords bond but for me onely, And now you'l lay me vp for't. Do not thinke The taking measure of a customer By a brace of varlets though I rather wait Neuer so patiently, will proue a fashion Which any Courtier or nes of court man Would follow willingly. Tayl. There I beleeue you. But sir, I must haue present moneys, or Assurance to secure me, when I shall. — Or I will see to your comming forth. Lila. Plague on', You haue prouided for my enterance in: That comming forth you talke of, concernes me. What shall I doe? you haue done me a disgrace In the arrest, but more in giing cause To all the street, to thinke I cannot stand Without these two supporters for my armes: Pray you let them loose me: for their satisfaction I will not run away. Tayl. For theirs you will not, But for your owne you would; looke to them fllows. Lila. Why doe you call them fellows? doe not wrong Yor reputation so, as you are meerely A Taylor, faythfull, apt to beleeue in Gallants You are a companion at a ten crowne supper For cloth of bodkin, and may with one Larke Eate vp three manchets, and no man obserue you, Or call your trade in question for't. But when You study your debt-booke, and hold correspondence With officers of the hanger, and leaue swordmen, The learned conclude, the Taylor and Sergeant In the expression of a knaue are these To be Synonima. Looke therefore to it, And let vs part in peace, I would be loth You should vndoe yr ee. Tayl. To let you goe Enter old Nouall, and Pontalier. Were the next way. But see! heeres your old Lord, Let him bu giue his word I shall be paide, And you are free. Lila. S' lid, I will put him to't: I can be but denied: or what say you? His Lordship owing me three times your debt, If you arrest him at my suite, and let me Goe run before to see the action entred. 'Twould be a witty iest. Tayl. I must haue ernest: I cannot pay my debts so. Pont. Can your Lordship Imagine, while I liue and weare a sword, Your sonnes death shall be reueng'd? Nou se. I know not One reason why you should not doe like others: I am sure, of all the herd that fed vpon him, I cannot see in any, now hee's gone, In pitty or in thankfulnesse one true signe Of sorrow for him. Pont. All his bounties yet Fell not in such vnthankefull ground: 'tis true He had weakenesses, but such as few are free from, And though none sooth'd them lesse then I: for now To say that I foresaw the dangers that Would rise from cherishing them, were but vntimely. I yet could wish the iustice that you seeke for In the reuenge, had bin trusted to me, And not the vncertaine issue of the lawes: 'Tas rob'd me of a noble testimony Of what I durst doe for him: but howeuer, My forfait life redeem'd by him though dead, Shall doe him seruice. Nou. se. As farre as my griefe Will giue me leaue, I thanke you. Lila. Oh my Lord, Oh my good Lord, deliuer me from these furies. Pont. Arrested? This is one of them whose base And obiect flattery helpt to digge his graue: He is not worth your pitty, nor my anger. Goe to the basket and repent. Nou. se. Away I onely know now to hate thee deadly: I will doe nothing for thee. Lila. Nor you, Captaine. Pont. No, to your trade againe, put off this case, It may be the discouering what you were, When your vnfortunate master tooke you vp, May moue compassion in your creditor. Confese the truth. Exit Nouall se. Pont. Lila. And now I thinke on't better, I will, brother, your hand, your hand, sweet brother. I am of your sect, and my gallantry but a dreame, Out of which these two fearefull apparitions Against my will haue wak'd me. This rich sword Grew suddenly out of a taylors bodkin; hese hangers from my vailes and fees in Hell: And where as now this beauer sits, full often A thrifty cape compos'd of broad cloth lists, Here kin vnto the cushion where I sate Crosse-leg'd, and yet vngartred, hath beene seene, Our breakefasts famous for the buttred loaues, I haue with ioy bin oft acquainted with, And therefore vse a conscience, though it be Forbidden in our hall towards other men, To me that as I haue beene, will againe Be of the brotherhood. Offi. I know him now: He was a prentice to Le Robe at Orleance. Lila. And from thence brought by my young Lord, now dead, Vnto Dijon, and with him till this houre Hath bin receiu'd here for a compleate Mounsieur. Nor wonder at it: for but tythe our gallants, Euen those of the first ranke, and you will finde In euery ten, one: peraduenture two, That smell ranke of the dancing schoole, or fiddle, The pantofle or pressing yro: but hereafter Weele talke of this. I will surrender vp My suites againe: there cannot be much losse, 'Tis but the trning of the lace, with ones Additions more you know of, and what want I will worke out. Tayl. Then here our quarrell ends. The gallant is turn'd Taylor, and all friends. Exeunt. Scaena 2. Enter Romont, Baumont. Rom. You haue them ready. Bau. Yes, and they will spake Their knowledg in this cause, when thou thinkst fit To haue them cal'd vpon. Rom. 'Tis well, and something I can adde to their euidence, to proue This braue reuenge, which they would haue cal'd murther, A noble Iustice. Bau. In this you expresse (The breach by my Lords want of you, new made vp) A faythfull friend. Rom. That friendship's rays'd on sand, Which euery sudden gust of discontent, Or flowing of our passions can change, As if it nere had bin: but doe you know Who are to sit on him? Bau. Mounsieur Du Croy Assisted by Charmi. Rom. The Aduocate That pleaded for the Marshalls unrall, And was checkt for it by Nouall. Bau. The same. Rom. How fortunes that? Bau. Why, sir, my Lord Nouall Being the accuser, cannot be the Iudge, Nor would grieue Roshfort, but Lord Charaloys (How-euer he might wrong him by his power,) Should haue an equall hearing. Rom. By my hopes. Of Charaloys acquitall, I lament That reuerent old mans fortune. Bau. Had you seene him, As to my griefe I haue now promis'd patience, And ere it was beleeu'd, though spake by him That neuer brake his word, inrag'd againe So far as to make warre vpon those heires, Which not a barbarous Scythian durst presume To touch, but with a superstitious feare, As something sacred, and then curse his daughter, But with more frequent violence himselfe, As if he had bin guilty of her fault, By being incredulous of your report, You would not onely iudge him worrhy pitty, But suffer with him. Enter Charalois, with Officers. But heere comes the prisoner, I dare not stay to doe my duty to him, Yet rest assur'd, all possible meanes in me To doe him seruice, keepes you company. Exit Bau. Rom. It is not doubted. Cha. Why, yet as I came hither, The people apt to mocke calamity, And tread on the oppress'd, made no hormes at me, Though they are too familiar: I deserue them. And knowing what blood my sword hath drunke In wreake of that disgrace, they yet forbare To shake their heads, or to reuile me for A murtherer, they rather all put on (As for great losses the old Romans vs'd) A generall face of sorrow, waighted on By a sad murmur breaking through their silence, And no eye but was readier with a teare To witnesse 'twas shed for me, then I could Discerne a fce made vp with scorne against me. Why should I then, though for vnusuall wrongs I chose vnusuall meanes to right those wrongs, Condemne my selfe, as ouer-partiall In my owne cause Romont? Rom. Best friend, well met, By my hearts lou to you, and ioyne to that, My thankfulnesse that still liues to the dead, I looke vpon you now with more true ioy, Then when I saw you married. Cha. You haue reason To giue you warrant for't; my falling off From such a friendship with the scorne that answered Your too propheticke counsell, may well moue you To thinke, your meeting me going to my death, A fit encounter for that hate which iustly I haue deser'd from you. Rom. Shall I still then Speake truth, and be ill vnderstood? Cha. You are not. I am conscious, I haue wrong'd you, and allow me Onely a morall man to looke on you, Whom foolishly I haue abus'd and iniur'd, Must of necessity be more terrible to me, hen any death the Iudges can pronounce From the tribunall which I am to plead at. Rom. Passion transports you. Cha. For what I haue done To my false Lady, or Nouall, I can Giue some apparent cause: but touching you, In my defence, childlike, I can say nothing, But I am sorry for't, a poore satisfaction: And yet mistake me not: for it is more Then I will speake, to haue my pardon sign'd For all I stand accus'd of. Rom. You much weaken the strength of your good cause, Should you but thinke A man for doing well could entertaine A pardon, were it offred, you haue giuen To blinde and slow-pac'd iustice, wings, and eyes To see and ouertake impieties, Which from a cold proceeding had receiu'd Idulgence or protection. Cha. Thinke you so? Rom. Vpon my soule nor should the blood you chalenge And tooke to cure your honour, breed more scruple In your soft conscience, then if your sword Had bin sheath'd in a Tygre, or she Beare, That in their bowels would haue made your tombe To iniure innocence is more then murther: But when inhumane lusts transforme vs, then As beasts we are to suffer, not like men To be lamented. Nor did Charalois euer Perform an act so worthy the applause Of a full theater of perfect men, As he hath done in this: the glory got By ouerthrowing outward enemies, Since strength and fortune are maine sharers in it, We cannot but by pieces call our own: But when we conquer our intestine foes, Our passions breed within vs, and of those The most rebllious tyrant powerfull loue, Our reason sffering vs to like no longer Ten the faire obiect being good deserues it, Ta's true victory, which, were great men Ambitious to achiue, by your example Setting no price vpon the breach of fayth, Bt lss of ife, 'twould fright adultery Ou of their families, and make lust appeare As lothsome to vs in the first consen, As when 'tis wayted on by punishment. Cha. You haue confirm'd me. Who would loue a woman That might inioy in such a man, a friend? You haue made me know the iustice of my cause, An mark't me out the way, how to defend it. Rom. Continue to that resolution constant, And you shall, in contempt of their worst malice, Come off with honour. Heere they come. Cha. I am ready. Scana 3. Enter Du Coy, Charmi, Rochfort, Nouall se Pnalur, Baumont. Nou. se. See, equall Iudges, with what confidence The cruell murtherer stands, as if he would Outface the Court and usticl Roch. But looke on him, And you shall finde, for still methinks I doe, Though guilt hath dide him black, something good in him, That may perhaps worke with a wiser man Then I haue beene, againe to set him free And giue him all he has. Charmi. This is not well. I would you had liu'd so, my Lord that I, Might rather haue continu'd your poore seruant. Then sit here as your Iudge. Du Croy. I am sorry for you. Roch. In no act of my life I haue deern'd This iniury from the court, that any heere Should hus vnciuilly vsurpe on what Is proper to me only. Du Cr. What ditaste Rceies my Lord? Rch. You say you are sorry for him: A griefe in which I must not haue a partner 'Tis I alone am sorry, that I rays'd The building of my life for seuenty yeeres Vpon so sure a ground, that all the vices Pactis'd to ruine man, though brought against me, Could nur vndermine, and no way left To send these gray haires to the graue with sorrow. Vertue tha was my patronesse, betrayd me: For entring, nay, possessing this young man, It lent him such a powerfull Maiesty To grace what ere he vndertooke, that freely I gaue my selfe vp with my liberty, To be at his disposing; had his peson, Loely I must confesse, or far fain'd valour, Or any other seeming good, that yet Holds a neere neyghbour-hood, with ill wrought on me, I might haue borne it better: but when goodnesse And piety it selfe in her best figure Were brib'd to my destruction, can you blame me, Though I forget to suffer like a man, Or rather act a woman? Bau. Good my Lord. Nou. se. You hinder our proceeding. Charmi. And forget The parts of an accuser. Bau. Pray you remember To vse the temper which to me you promis'd; Roch. Angels themselues must breake Baumont, that pro∣mise Beyond the strength and patience of Angels. But I haue done, my good Lord, pardon me A weake old man, and pray adde to that A miserable father, yet be carefull That your compassion of my age, nor his, Moue you to any thing, that may dis-become The plce on which you fit Charmi. Read the Inditement. Cha. It shall be needelesse, I my selfe, my Lords, Will be my owne accuser, and confesse All they can charge me with, or will I spare To aggrauate that guilt with circumstance They seeke to loade me with: onely I pray, That as for them you will vouchsafe me hearing: I may not be denide it for my selfe, When I shall vrge by what vnanswerable reasons I was compel'd to what I did, which yet Till you haue taught me better, I repent not. Roch. The motion honest. Charmi. And 'tis freely granted. Cha. Then I confesse my Lords, that I stood bound, When with my friends, euen hope it selfe had left me To this mans charity for my liberty, Nor did his bounty end there, but began: For after my enlargment, cherishing The good he did, he made me master of His onely daughter, and his whole estate: Great ties of thankfulnesse I must acknowledge, Could any one freed by you, presse this furthe? But yet consider, my most honourd Lords, If to receiue a fauour, make a seruant, And benefits are bonds to tie the taker To the imperious will of him that giues, Ther's none but slaues will receiue courtesie. Since they must fetter vs to our dishonours. Can it be cal'd magnificence in a Prince, To powre downe riches, with a liberall hand, Vpon a poore mans wants, if that must bind him To play the soothing parasite to his vices? Or any man, because he sau'd my hand, Prsume my head and heart are at his seruice? Or did stand ingag'd to buy my freedome (When my captiuity was honourable) By making my selfe here and fame hereafter, to mens scorne and calumnious tongues? H hi faire daghters mind bin like her feature, Or for some little blemsh I had sought For my content elsewhe, wasting on others My bod and her dowry; my forhad then Deseru'd the brand of base ingratitude: But if obsequou vsage, and faire warning To keepe her worth my loue, could preserue her From being a whore, and yet no cunning one, So to offend, and yet the fault kept from me? What shoud I doe? let any freeborne spirit Determine truly, if that thankfulnesse, Choise forme with the whole world giuen for a dowry Could strenghen so an honest man with patience, As with a willing necke to vndergoe The insupportable yoake of slaue or wit toll. Charm. What proofe haue you she did play false, besides your oath? Cha. Her owne confession to her father. I aske him for a witnesse. Roch. 'Tis most true. I would not willingy blend my last words With an vntruth. Cha. And then o cleere my selfe, That his great wealth was not the marke I shot at, But that I hld it, when faire Beaumelle Fell from her vertue, like the fatall gold Which Brennu tooke from Delphos, whose possession Boght with it ruine to himselfe and Army. Her's one in Cour, Baumont, by whom I sent All graunts and writings backe, which made it mine, Before his daughter dy'd by his owne sentence, As freely a vnask'd he gaue i to me. Ba. They are here to be seene Charmi. Open the casket. Peruse hat deed of gift. Rom. Halfe of the danger Already is discharg'd: the other part As brauely, and you are not onely free, But crownd with praise for euer. Du Croy. 'Tis apparent. Charmi. Your state, my Lord, againe is yours. Roch. Not mine, I am not of the world, if it can prosper, (And yet being iustly got, Ile not examine Why it should be so fatall) doe you bestow it On pious vses. Ile goe seeke a graue. And yet for proofe, I die in peace, your pardon I aske, and as you grant it me, may Heauen Your conscience, and these Iudges free you from Exit Roch. What you are charg'd with. So farewell for euer.— Nouall se. Ile be mine owne guide. Passion, nor example Shall be my leaders. I haue lost a sonne, A sonne, graue Iudges, I require his blood From his accursed homicide. Charmi. What reply you In your defence for this? Cha. I but attended Your Lordships pleasure. For the fact, as of The former, I confesse it, but with what Base wrongs I was vnwillingly drawne to it, To my few words there are some other proofes To witnesse this for truth, when I was married: For there I must begin. The slayne Nouall Was to my wife, in way of our French courtship, A most deuoted seruant, but yet aym'd at Nothing but meanes to quench his wanton heate, His heart being nuer warm'd by lawfull fires As mine was (Lords:) and though on these presumptions, Ioyn'd to the hate betweene his house and mine, I might with opportunity and ease Hae found a way for my reuenge, I did not; But still he had the freedome as before Whn all was mine, and told that he abus'd it With some vnseemely licence, by my friend My appou'd friend Romont. I gaue no credit To the reporter, but reprou'd him for it, As one vncourtly and malicious to him. What could I more, my Lords? yet after this He did continue in his first pursue Hoter then euer, and at length obtind it; But how it came to my most certaine kowledge, For the dignity of the court and my owne honour I dare not say. Nou se. If all may be beleeu'd A passionate prisoner speakes, who is so foolish That durst be wicked, that will appeare guilty? No, my graue Lords: in his impunity But giue example vnto iealous men To cut the throats they hate, and they will neuer Want matter or pretence for their bad ends. Charmi. You must finde other proofes to strengthen these But meere presumptions. Du Croy. Or we shall hardly Allow your innocence. Cha. All your attempts Shall fall on me, like brittle shats on armor, That breake themselues; or like waues against a rock, That leaue no signe of their ridiculous fury But foame and splinters, my innocence like these Shall stand triumphant, and your malice serue But for a trumpet to proclaime my conquest; Nor shall you, though you doe the worst fate can, How ere condemne, affright an honest man. Rom. May it please the Court, I may be heard. Nou. se. You come not To raile againe? but doe, you shall not finde Anothr Rochfort. Rom. In Nouall I cannot. But I come furnished with what will stop The mouth of his conspiracy against the life O innocen Charaloys. Doe you know this Character? Nou. se. Yes, 'tis my sonnes. Rom. May it please your Lordships, reade it, And you shall finde there, with what vehemency He did sollicite Beaumelle, how he had got A promise from her to inioy his wishes, How after he abiur'd her company, And yet, but that 'tis fit I spare the dead, Like a damnd villaine, assoone as recorded, He brake that oath, to make this manifest. Produce his bands and hers. Enter Aymer, Florimell, Bellaprt. Charmi Haue they tooke their oahes? Rom. They haue and rather then indure the racke, Confesse the time, the meeting, nay the act; What would you more? onely this matron made A free discouery to a good end; And therefore sue to the Court, she may not Be plac'd in the blacke list of the delinquents. Pont. I see by this, Nouals reuenge needs me, And I shall doe. Charmi. 'Tis euident. Nou. se. That I Till now was neuer wretched, here's no place To curse him or my stars. Exit Nouall senior. Charmi. Lord Charalois, The iniuries you haue sustain'd, appeare So worthy of the mercy of the Court, That notwithstanding you haue gone beyond The letter of the Law, they yet acquit you. Pont. But in Nouall, I doe condemne him thus Cha. I am slayne. Rom. Can I looke on? Oh murderous wretch, Thy challenge now I answer o die with him, Charmi. A guard: disarme him. Rm. I yel vp my sword Vnforc'd. Oh Chraloys. Cha. For shame Rmont, Mourn not for him that dies as he hath liu'd, Still constant and vnmou'd: what's falne vpon me, Is by Heauens will, because I made my selfe A udge in my owne cause without their warrant: But he that lets me know thus much in death, With all good men forgiue mee. Pont. I receiue the vegeance, which my loue Not built on vertue, ha made me worthy, worthy of. Charmi. We are taught By this sad president, how iust soeuer Our reasons are to remedy our wrongs, W are yet to leaue them to their will and power, That to that purpose haue uhority. For you, Romont, although in your excuse You may plead, what you did, was in reuenge Of the dishonour done vnto the Court: Yet since from vs you had not warrant for it, We banish you the State: for these, they shall, As they are found guilty, or innocent, Be set free, or suffer punishment. Ext . FINIS.