Beaumont and Fletcher's Works. Volume 9

CUPID'S REVENGE

The Persons represented in the Play

Cupid.

Leontius, the old Duke of Lycia.

Leucippus, Son to the Duke.

Ismenus, Nephew to the Duke.

Telamon, a Lycian Lord.

Dorialus,}

Agenor,} Courtiers.

Nisus,}

Timantus, a villainous Sycophant.

The Priest of Cupid.

Four young Men and Maids.

Nilo, sent in Commission to pull down Cupid's Image.

Zoilus, Leucippus's Dwarf.

Four Citizens.

WOMEN

Hidaspes, Daughter to the Duke.

Cleophila, and Hero her Attendants.

Bacha, a Strumpet.

Urania, her Daughter.

Bacha's Maid.

Urania's Maid.

Servants and Attendants.

Actus Primus. Scæna Prima

Enter Dorialus, Agenor, NisusAgenor.Trust me my Lord Dorialus, I had mist of this, if you had not call'd me; I thought the Princesses birth-day had been to morrow.Nisus. Why, did your Lordship sleep out the day?Dor. I marvel what the Duke meant to make such an idle vow.Nis. Idle, why?Dor. Is't not idle, to swear to grant his Daughter any thing she shall ask on her birth-day? she may ask an impossible thing: and I pray heaven she do not ask an unfit thing at one time or other; 'tis dangerous trusting a mans vow upon the discretion on's Daughter. Age. I wonder most at the Marquis her Brother, who is always vehemently forward to have her desires granted.Dor. He's acquainted with 'em before.Age. She's doubtless very chaste and virtuou.Dor. So is Leucippus her brother.Nis. She's twenty year old, I wonderShe aske not a Husband.Dor. That were a folly in her; having refus'd all theGreat Princes in one part of the world;She'll die a Maid.Age. She may ask but one, may she?Nis. A hundred times this day if she will;And indeed, every day is such a day, for thoughThe Duke has vow'd it only on this day,He keeps it every day: he can denyHer nothing.[Cornets. Enter Hidaspes, Leucippus, Leontius, Timantas, TellamonLeon. Come fair Hidaspes, thou artDuchess to day,Art thou prepar'd to aske, thou knowestMy oath will force performance.And Leucippus, if she now ask ought that shall,Or would have performanceAfter my death, when by the help of heaven,This Land is thine, accursed be thy race,May every one forget thou art my Son,And so their own obedience.Leucip. Mighty Sir,I do not wish to know that fatal hour,That is to make me King, but if I do,I shall most hastily, (and like a Son)Perform your grant[s] to all, chiefly to her:Remember that you aske what weAgreed upon.Leon. Are you prepar'd? then speak.Hida. Most Royal Sir, I am prepar'd,Nor shall my Will exceed a Virgins bounds,What I request shall both at once bringMe a full content.Leon. So it ever does:Thou only comfort of my feeble age,Make known thy good desire,For I dare swear thou lov'st me.Hidas. This is it I beg,And on my knees. The people of your Land,The Lycians, are through all the NationsThat know their name, noted to have in useA vain and fruitless superstition;So much more hateful, that it bears the shewOf true Religion, and is nothing elseBut a false-pleasing bold lasciviousness.Leon. What is it?Hidas. Many ages before this,When every man got to himself a Trade,And was laborious in that chosen course,Hating an idle life, far worse than death:Some one that gave himself to Wine and Sloth,Which breed lascivious thoughts;And found himself conjoyn'dFor that by every painful man,To take his stain away, fram'd to himselfA god, whom he pretended to obey,In being thus dishonest, for a nameHe call'd him Cupid. This created god,Mans nature being ever credulousOf any vice that takes part with his blood,Had ready followers enow: and sinceIn every age they grew, especiallyAmongst your Subjects, who do yet remainAdorers of that drowsie Deitie:Which drink invented: and the winged Boy,(For so they call him) has his sacrifices.These loose naked statues through the Land,And in every Village, nay the palaceIs not free from 'em. This is my request,That these erect[ed] obscene ImagesMay be pluckt down and burnt: and every manThat offers to 'em any sacrifice, may lose his life.Leon. But be advis'd my fairest daughter, if he beA god, he will express it upon thee my child:Which heaven avert.Leucip. There is no such power:But the opinion of him fills the LandWith lustful sins: every young man and maidThat feel the least desire to one another,Dare not suppress it, for they think it isBlind Cupid's motion: and he is a god.Leon. This makes our youth unchaste. I am resolv'd:Nephew Ismenus, break the Statues downHere in the Palace, and command the CityDo the like, let proclamationsBe drawn, and hastily sent through the LandTo the same purpose.Ismen. Sir, I will break down none my self,But I will deliver your command:Hand I will have none in't, for I like it not.Leon. Goe and command it. Pleasure of my life,Wouldst thou ought else? make many thousand suits,They must and shall be granted.Hid. Nothing else.[Exit Ismenus.Leon. But go and meditate on other suits,Some six days hence I'll give thee Audience again,And by a new oath, bind my self to keep it:Ask largely for thy self, dearer than lifeIn whom I may be bold to call my self,More fortunate than any in my age,I will deny thee nothing.Leu. 'Twas well done, Sister.[Exeunt all but these three Lords.Nis. How like you this request my Lord[s]?Dor. I know not yet, I am so full of wonder,We shall be gods our selves shortly,And we pull 'em out of Heaven o' this fashion.Age. We shall have wenches now when we canCatch 'em, and we transgress thus.Nis. And we abuse the gods once, 'tis a JusticeWe should be held at hard meat: for my part,I'll e'en make ready for mine own affection,I know the god incenst must send a hardnessThrough all good Womens hearts, and then we haveBrought our Eggs and Muskadine to a fair Market:Would I had giv'n a 100 l. for a tolleration,That I might but use my conscience in mineOwn house.Dor. The Duke he's old and past it, he wouldNever have brought such a plague upon the Land else,'Tis worse than Sword and Famine:Yet to say truth, we have deserv'd it, we have liv'dSo wickedly, every man at his Livery, and wou'd thatWou'd have suffic'd us: we murmur'd at thisBlessing, that was nothing; and cry'd out to theGod for endless pleasures, he heard us,And supp[l]ied us, and our Women were new stillAs we need 'em: yet we like beasts still cry'd,Poor men can number their woers, give usAbundance: we had it, and this curse withal.Age. Berlady we are like to have a long Lent on't,Flesh shall be flesh: now Gentlemen I had ratherHave anger'd all the gods, than that blind Gunner.I remem[b]er once the people did but slight himIn a sacrifice: and what followed?Women kept their houses, grew good huswivesHonest forsooth! was not that fine?Wore their own faces,Though they wear gay cloaths without surveying,And which was most lamentable,They lov'd their Husbands.Nis. I do remember it to my grief,Young Maids were as cold as CowcumbersAnd much of that complexion:Bawds were abolisht: and, to which miseryIt must come again,There were no Cuckolds,Well, we had need pray to keep theseDivels from us,The times grow mischievous.There he goes, Lord!Enter one with an ImageThis is a sacriledge I have not heard of:Would I were gelt, that I might notFeel what follows.Age. And I too. You shall see within theseFew years, a fine confusion i'the Countrey: mark it:Nay, and we grow for to depose the Powers,And set up Chastity again, well, I have done.A fine new goddess certainly, whose blessingsAre hunger and hard beds.Nis. This comes of fulness, a sin too frequent with usI believe now we shall find shorter commons.Dor. Would I were married, somewhat has some favour;The race of Gentry will quite run out now,'Tis only left to Husbands, if younger SistersTake not the greater charity, 'tis lawful.Age. Well, let come what will come,I am but one, and as the plague falls,I'll shape my self: If Women will be honest, I'll be sound.If the god be not too unmerciful,I'll take a little still, where I can get it,And thank him, and say nothing.Nis. This ill wind yet may blow the City good,And let them, (if they can) get their own children,They have hung long enough in doubt, but howsoever, theold way was the surer, then they had 'em.Dor. Farewel my Lords, I'll e'en take up what Rent I canbefore the day, I fear the year will fall out ill.Age. We'll with you Sir: And love so favour us,As we are still thy servants. Come my Lords;Let's to the Duke, and tell him to what follyHis doting now has brought him.[Exeunt. Priest of Cupid, with four young men and MaidsPriest. Come my children, let your feet,In an even measure meet:And your chearful voices rise,For to present this Sacrifice;Lo great Cupid, in whose name,I his Priest begin the same.Young men take your Loves and kiss,Thus our Cupid honour'd isKiss again, and in your kissing,Let no promises be missing:Nor let any Maiden here,Dare to turn away her ear,Unto the whisper of her Love,But give Bracelet, Ring or Glove,As a token to her sweeting,Of an after secret meeting:Now boy sing to stick our heartsFuller of great Cupid's darts.SONGLovers rejoyce, your pains shall be rewarded,The god of Love himself grieves at your crying:No more shall frozen honor be regarded,Nor the coy faces of a Maids denying.No more shall Virgins sigh, and say we dare not,For men are false, and what they do they care not,All shall be well again, then do not grieve,Men shall be true, and Women shall believe.Lovers rejoyce, what you shall say henceforth.When you have caught your Sweet-hearts in your arms,It shall be accounted Oracle, and Worth:No more faint-hearted Girls shall dream of harms,And cry they are too young, the god hath said,Fifteen shall make a Mother of a Maid:Then wise men, pull your Roses yet unblown,Love hates the too ripe fruit that falls alone.The Measure After the Measure, Enter Nilo and othersNilo. No more of this: here break your Rights for ever,The Duke commands it so; Priest do not stare,I must deface your Temple, though unwilling,And your god Cupid here must make a Scare-crowFor any thing I know, or at the best,Adorn a Chimney-piece.Priest. Oh Sacriledge unheard of!Nilo. This will not help it, take down the Image[s]And away with 'em.Priest, change your coat you had best, all service nowIs given to men: Prayers above their hearingWill prove but bablings: learn to lye and thrive,'Twill prove your best profession: for the gods,He that lives by 'em now, must be a beggar.There's better holiness on earth they say,Pray God it ask not greater sacrifice. Go home,And if [y]our god be not deaf as well as blind,He will [make] some smoak for it.Gent. Sir —Nilo. Gentlemen, there is no talking,This must be done and speedily;I have commission that I must not break.Gent. We are gone, to wonder what shall follow.Nilo. On to the next Temple.[Exeunt.Cornets. Descendit CupidCupid. Am I then scorn'd? is my all-doing WillAnd Power, that knows no limit, nor admits none,Now look'd into by less than gods? and weak'nedAm I, whose Bow struck terror through the earth,No less than Thunder, and in this, exceedingEven gods themselves; whose knees before my AltarsNow shook off; and contemn'd by such, whose livesAre but my recreation! anger riseMy sufferance and my self are made the subjectOf sins against us. Go thou out displeasure,Displeasure of a great god, flying thy selfThrough all this Kingdom: sow what ever evilsProud flesh is [taking of], amongst these Rebels:And on the first heart that despise my Greatness,Lay a strange misery, that all may knowCupid's revenge is mighty; with his ArrowHotter than plagues or mine own anger, will INow nobly right my self: nor shall the prayersNor [sweete] smoaks on my Altars hold my hand,Till I have left this a most wretched Land.[Exit. Enter Hidaspes, and CleophilaHidas. Cleophila, what was he that went hence?Cleo. What means your Grace now?Hidas. I mean that handsome man,That something more than man I met at door.Cleo. Here was no handsome man.Hidas. Come, he's some oneYou would preserve in private, but you wantCunning to do it, and my eyes are sharperThan yours, and can with one neglecting glance,See all the graces of a man. Who was't?Cleo. That went hence now?Hidas. That went hence now, I, he.Cleo. Faith here was no such one as your Grace thinks.Zoylous your Brothers Dwarf went out but now.Hidas. I think 'twas he: how bravely he past by:Is he not grown a goodly Gentleman?Cleo. A goodly Gentleman, Madam?He is the most deformed fellow i'the Land.Hidas. Oh blasphemy: he may perhaps to theeAppear deform'd, for he is indeedUnlike a man: his shape and colours areBeyond the Art of Painting; he is likeNothing that we have seen, yet doth resembleApollo, as I oft have fancied him,When rising from his bed, he stirs himselfAnd shakes day from his hair.Cleo. He resembles Apollo's Recorder.Hidas. Cleophila, go send a Page for him,And thou shalt see thy error, and repent.[Exit Cleo.Alas, what do I feel, my bloud rebells,And I am one of those I us'd to scorn,My Maiden-thoughts are fled against my self,I harbor Traitors in my Virginity,That from my Childhood kept me company,Is heavier than I can endure to bear:Forgive me Cupid, for thou art a god,And I a wretched creature; I have sinn'd,But be thou merciful, and grant that yetI may enjoy what thou wilt have me, Love. Enter Cleo. and Zoy[Cleo.] Zoylous is here Madam.Hida. He's there indeed.Now be thine own Judge; see thou worse than mad,Is he deformed? look upon those eyes,That let all pleasure out into the world,Unhappy that they cannot see themselves;Look on his hair, that like so many beams,Streaking the East, shoot light o'er half the world,Look on him altogether, who is madeAs if two Natures had contentionAbout their skill, and one had brought forth him.Zoy. Ha, ha, ha: Madam, though NatureHath not given me so muchAs others in my outward shew;I bear a heart as loyal unto youIn this unsightly body (which you pleaseTo make your mirth) as many others doThat are far more befriended in their births;Yet I could wish my self much more deformedThan yet I am, so I might make your GraceMore merry than you are, ha, ha, ha.Hidas. Beshrew me then if I be merry;But I[am] content whilst thou art with me:Thou that art my Saint:By hope of whose mild favour I do liveTo tell thee so: I pray thee scorn me not;Alas what can it add unto thy worthTo triumph over me, that am a Maid,Without deceit? whose heart doth guide her tongue,Drown'd in my passions; yet I will take leaveTo call it reason that I dote on thee.Cleo. The Princess is besides her Grace I think,To talk thus with a fellow that will hardlyServe i'th' dark when one is drunk.Hida. What answer wilt thou give me?Zoy. If it please your Grace to jest on, I can abide it.Hida. If it be jest, not to esteem my life,Compar'd with thee: If it be jest in me,To hang a thousand kisses in an hourUpon those Lips, and take 'em off again:If it be jest for me to marry thee,And take obedience on me whilst I live:Then all I say is jest:For every part of this, I swear by thoseThat see my thoughts, I am resolv'd to do,And I beseech thee, by thine own white hand,(Which pardon me, that I am bold to kissWith so unworthy Lips) that thou wilt swearTo marry me, as I do here to thee,Before the face of heaven.Zoy. Marry you? ha, ha, ha.Hida. Kill me or grant, wilt thou not speak at all?Zoy. Why I will do your Will for ever.Hida. I ask no more: but let me kiss that mouthThat is so merciful; that is my will:Next go with me before the King in haste,That is my Will; where I will make our PeersKnow, that thou art their better.Zoy. Ha, ha, ha, that is fine, ha, ha, ha.Cleo. Madam, what means your Grace?Consider for the love of Heaven to whatYou run madly; will you take this ViperInto your bed?Hida. Away, hold off thy hands:Strike her sweet Zoylous, for it is my Will,Which thou hast sworn to doe.Zoy. Away for shame.Know you no manners: ha, ha, ha.[Exit.Cleo. Thou know'st none I fear,This is just Cupid's Anger, Venus look down mildly on us:And command thy Son to spare this Lady once, and let mebe in love with [all]: and none in love with me.[Exit. Enter Ismenus, and TimantusTiman. Is your Lordship for the Wars this Summer?Ismen. Timantus, wilt thou go with me?Timan. If I had a Company, my Lord.Ismen. Of Fidlers: Thou a company?No, no, keep thy Company at home, and cause cuckolds:The Wars will hurt thy face, there's no Semsters,Shoomakers, nor Taylors, nor Almond-milk i'th' morning,Nor poach'd Egs to keep your worship soluble,No man to warm your Shirt, and blow your Roses:Nor none to reverence your round lace Breeches:If thou wilt needs goe, and goe thus,Get a Case for thy Captainship, a shower will spoil thee else.Thus much for thee.Tim. Your Lordship's wondrous witty, very pleasant believe't.[Exit. Enter Telamon, Dorialus, Agenor, Nisus, LeontiLeon. No news yet of my Son?Tela. Sir, there be divers out in search:No doubt they'll bring the truth where he is,Or the occasion that led him hence.Tim. They have good eyes then.Leon. The gods goe with them:Who be those that wait there?Tele. The Lord Ismenus, your General, for his dispatch.Leon. Oh Nephew: we have no use to imploy yourVirtue in our War: now the Province is well setled.Hear you aught of the Marquis?Ismen. No Sir.Leon. 'Tis strange he should be gone thus:These five days he was not seen.Tim. I'll hold my [life], I could bolt him in an hour:Leon. Where's my Daughter?Dori. About the purging of the Temples, Sir.Leon. She's chaste and virtuous; fetch her to me,And tell her I am pleas'd to grant her nowHer last request, without repenting me.[Exit Nis.Be it what it will: she is wise, DorialusAnd will not press me farther than a Father.Dor. I pray the best may follow; yet if your GraceHad taken the opinions of your people,At least of such, whose wisdoms ever wakeAbout your safety, I may say it, Sir,Under your noble pardon: that this changeEither had been more honor to the gods,Or I think not at all. Sir, the Princess. Enter Hidaspes, Nisus, and ZoylusLeon. Oh my Daughter, my health!And did I say my soul, I ly'd not;Thou art so near me, speak, and have whateverThy wise Will leads thee too: had I a Heaven,It were too poor a place for such a goodness.Dor. What's here?Agen. An Apes skin stuft I think, 'tis so plump.Hida. Sir, you have past your word,Still be a Prince, and hold you to it.Wonder not I press you, my life lies in your word:If you break that, you have broke my heart, I must askThat's my shame, and your Will must not deny me:Now for Heaven be not forsworn.Leon. By the gods I will not,I cannot, were there no other power,Than my love call'd to a witness of it.Dor. They have much reason to trust,You have forsworn one of 'em out o'th' countrey already.Hida. Then this is my request: This Gent.Be not ashamed, Sir:You are worth a Kingdom.Leon. In what?Hida. In the way of marriage.Leon. How?Hida. In the way of marriage, it must be so,Your oath is ti'd to Heaven: as my love to him.Leon. I know thou dost but try my age,Come ask again.Hida. If I should ask all my life-time, this is all still.Sir, I am serious, I must have this worthy man withoutenquiring why; and suddenly, and freely:Doe not look for reason or obedience in my words:My love admits no wisdom:Only haste, and hope hangs on my fury,Speak Sir, speak, but not as a Father,I am deaf and dull to counsel: inflamed bloodHears nothing but my Will;For Gods sake speak.Dor. Here's a brave alteration.Nis. This comes of Chastity.Hida. Will not you speak Sir?Agen. The god begins his vengeance; what a sweet youthhe has sent us here, with a pudding in's belly!Leon. Oh let me never speak,Or with my words let me speak out my life;Thou power abus'd: great Love, whose vengeance now wefeel and fear, have mercy on this Land.Nis. How does your Grace?Leon. Sick, very sick I hope.Dor. Gods comfort you.Hida. Will not you speak? is this your Royal word?Do not pull perjurie upon your soul.Sir, you are old, and near your punishment; remember.Leon. Away base woman.Hidas. Then be no more my Father, but a plague,I am bound to pray against: be any sinMay force me to despair, and hang my self,Be thy name never more remembred KingBut in example of a broken faith,And curst even to forgetfulness:May thy Land bring forth such Monsters as thy Daughter is!I am weary of my rage. I pray forgive me,And let me have him, will you Noble Sir?Leon. Mercy, mercy heaven:Thou heir of all dishonor, shamest thou not to drawThis little moisture left for life, thus rudely from me?Carry that slave to death.Zoy. For heavens sake Sir, it is no fault of mine,That she will love me.Leon. To death with him, I say.Hida. Then make haste Tyrant, or I'll be for him:This is the way to Hell.Leon. Hold fast, I charge you away with him.Hida. Alas old man, Death hath more doors than one,And I will meet him.[Exit Hida.Leon. Dorialus, Pray see her in her chamber,And lay a guard about her:The greatest curse the gods lay on our frailties,Is Will and Disobedience in our Issues,Which we beget as well as them to plague us,With our fond loves; Beasts you are only blestThat have that happy dulness to forgetWhat you have made, your young ones grieve not youThey wander where they list, and have their waysWithout dishonor to you; and their ends,Fall on 'em without sorrow of their Parents,Or after ill remembrance: Oh this WomanWould I had made my self a Sepulcher,When I made her: Nephew, where is the Prince?Pray God he have not more part of her basenessThan of her bloud about him.Gentlemen: where is he?Ism. I know not Sir.H'as his ways by himself, is too wise for my company.Leon. I do not like this hiding of himself,From such society as his person:Some of it ye needs must know.Isme. I am sure not I: nor have known twice this tendays, which if I were as proud as some of 'em, I should takescurvily, but he is a young man.Let him have [his] swinge, 'twill make him.[Timantus whispers to the Duke.There's some good matter now in hand:How the slave jeers and grins; the Duke is pleas'd,There's a new pair of Scarlet Hose now, and as muchMoney to spare, as will fetch the old from pawn, a Hat anda Cloak to goe out to morrow:Garters and Stockings come by nature.Leon. Be sure of this.Tima. I durst not speak else, Sir.

Actus Secundus. Scæna Prima

Cornets. Descend CupidCupid.Leucippus thou art shot through with a shaftThat will not rankle long, yet sharp enoughTo sow a world of helpless misery —In this [happie] Kingdom, dost thou thinkBecause thou art a Prince, to make a partAgainst my power, but it is all the faultOf thy old Father, who believes [his] ageIs cold enough to quench my burning Darts,But he shall know e'r long, that my smart loose,Can thaw Ice, and inflame the wither'd heartOf Nestor, thou thy self art lightly struck,But his mad love, shall publish that the rageOf Cupid, has the power to conquer Age.[Exit. Enter Bacha, and Leucippus, Bacha, a HandkerchiefLeu. Why, what's the matter?Bacha. Have you got the spoilYou thirsted for? Oh tyrannie of men!Leu. I pray thee leave.Bacha. Your envy is, Heaven knows,Beyond the reach of all our feeble sex:What pain alas, could it have been to you,If I had kept mine honor? you might stillHave been a Prince, and still this Countreys Heir,That innocent Guard which I till now had kept,For my defence, my virtue, did it seemSo dangerous in a State, that your self came to suppress it?Leu. Drie thine eyes again, I'll kiss thy tears away,This is but folly, 'tis past all help.Bacha. Now you have won the treasure,'Tis my request that you would leave me thus:And never see these empty Walls again,I know you will do so, and well you may:For there is nothing in 'em that's worthA glance, I loath my self, and am becomeAnother Woman; One methinks with whomI want acquaintance.Leu. If I do offend thee, I can be gone,And though I love thy sight, so highly do I prize thine owncontent, that I will leave thee.Bac. Nay, you may stay now;You should have gone before: I know not nowWhy I should fear you: All I should have keptIs stol'n: Nor is it in the power of manTo rob me farther: if you can invent,Spare not; No naked man fears robbing lessThan I doe: now you may for ever stay.Leu. Why, I could do thee farther wrong.Bac. You have a deeper reach in evill than I:'Tis past my thoughts.Leu. And past my will to act: but trust me I could do it.Bac. Good Sir do, that I may know there is a wrongbeyond what you have done me.Leu. I could tell all the world what thou hast done.Bac. Yes you may tell the worldAnd do you think I am so vain to hopeYou will not? you can tell the world but this,That I am a widow, full of tears in shew,My Husband dead: And one that lov'd me so,Hardly a week, forgot my modestie,And caught with youth and greatness,Gave my self to live in sin with you;This you may tell: And this I do deserve.Leu. Why dost thou think me so base to tell!These limbs of mine shall partFrom one another on a wrack,Ere I disclose; But thou dost utter wordsThat much afflict me: you did seem as readySweet Bacha, as my self.Bac. You are right a man: when they have 'witcht usinto miserie, poor innocent souls,They lay the fault on us:But be it so; for Prince Leucippus sakeI will bear any thing.Leucip. Come weep no more,I wrought thee to it, it was my fault:Nay, see if thou wilt leave? Here, take this pearl,Kiss me sweet Bacha, and receive this purse.Bacha. What should I do with these? they will notdeck my mind.Leucip. Why keep 'em to remember me.I must be gone, I have been absent long:I know the Duke my Father is in rage,But I will see thee suddenly again.Farewell my Bacha.Bacha. Gods keep you,Do you he[a]re Sir: pray give me a point to wear.Leu. Alas good Bacha, take on[e], I pray thee where thou wilt.Bac. Coming from you. This Point is of as highEsteem with me, as all pearl and gold: nothing but goodbe ever with or near you.Leu. Fare thee well mine own good Bacha;I will make all haste.[Exit.Bacha. Just as you are a Dosen I [e]steem you:No more, does he think I would prostituteMy self for love? it was the love of these pearlsAnd gold that won me, I confessI lust more after him than any other,And would at any rate if I had store,Purchase his fellowship: but being poor,I'll both enjoy his bodie and his purse,And he a Prince, nere think my self the worse.Enter Leontius, Leucippus, Ismenus, TimantusLeon. Nay, you must back and shew us what it is,That 'witches you out of your Honor thus.Bacha. Who's that?Tima. Look there Sir.Leon. Lady, never flye you are betray'd.Bacha. Leave me my tears a while,And to my Just rage give a little place:What saucy man are you, that without leave,Enter upon a Widows mournfull house?You hinder a dead man from many tears.Who did deserve more than the world can shed,Though they should weep themselves to Images.If not for love of me, yet of your selfAway, for you can bring no [comfort] to me.But you may carry hence, you know not what.Nay sorrow is infectious.Leon. Thou thy selfArt grown infectious: wouldst thou know my name?I am the Duke, father to this young-manWhom thou corrupt'st.Bacha. Has he th[e]n told him all?Leuc. You do her wrong Sir.Bacha. O he has not told. Sir I beseech you pardonMy wild tongue, directed by a weak distemper'd headMadded with grief: Alas I did not knowYou were my Sovereign; but now you mayCommand my poor unworthy life,Which will be none I hope ere long.Leon. All thy dissembling will never hide thy shame:And wer't not more respecting Womanhood inGeneral, than any thing in thee, thou shouldstBe made such an example, that posteritie,When they would speak most bitterly, should say,Thou art as impudent as Bacha was.Bacha. Sir, though you be my King, whom I willServe in all just causes: yet when wrongfullyYou seek to take my Honor, I will riseThus, and defie you; for it is a JewellDearer than you can give, which whilst I keep,(Though in this lowly house) I shall esteemMy self above the Princes of the earthThat are without it. If the Prince your son,Whom you accuse me with, know how to speakDishonor of me, if he do not do it,The plagues of hell light on him, may he neverGovern this Kingdome: here I chalenge himBefore the face of heaven, my Liege, and these,To speak the worst he can: if he will lye,To lose a womans fame, I'll say he isLike you (I think I cannot call him worse.)He's dead, that with his life would have defendedMy reputation and I forct to play(That which I am) the foolish woman,And use my liberal tongue.Leu. Is't possible! we men are children in ourCarriages, compar'd with women: 'wake thy selfFor shame, and leave not her whose honor thouShou'dst keep safe as thine own, alone to free her self:But I am prest I know not how, with guilt,And feel my conscience (never us'd to lye)Loth to allow my tongue to add a lyeTo that too much I did: but it is lawfullTo defend her, that only for my Love lov'd evill.Leon. Tell me, why did you Leucip: stay here so long?Leu. If I can urge ought from me but a truth,Hell take me.Leon. What's the matter, why speak you not?Tima. Alas good Sir, forbearTo urge the Prince, you see his shamefastness.Bacha. What does he say Sir? if thou be a PrinceShew it, and tell the truth.Ismen. If you have lain with her tell your FatherNo doubt but he has done as ill before now:The Gentlewoman will be proud on't.Bacha. For God's sake speak.Leu. Have you done prating yet?Ismen. Who prates?Leu. Thou know'st I do not speak to thee Ismenus:But what said you Tima; concerning my shamefastness?Tima. Nothing I hope that might displease yourHighness.Leu. If any of thy great, Great-grandmothersThis thousand years, had been as chast as she,It would have made thee honester, I stay'dTo he[a]re what you wou'd say: she is by heavenOf the most strict and blameless chastitieThat ever woman was: (good gods forgive me)Had Tarquin, met with her, she had been kil'dWith a Slave by her ere she had agreed:I lye with her! wou'd I might perish then.Our Mothers, whom we all must reverence,Could nere exceed her for her chastitie,Upon my soul: for by this light she'sA most obstinate modest creature.Leon. What did you with her then so long Leucippus?Leu. I'll tell you Sir: You see she's beautifull.Leon. I see it well.Leu. Mov'd by her face,I came with lustful thoughts,Which was a fault in me:But telling truth, something more pardonable,(And for the world I will not lye to you:)Proud of my self, I thought a Princes nameHad power to blow 'em down flat of their backs;But here I found a Rock not to be shook:For as I hope for good Sir, all the batteryThat I could lay to her, or of my person,My greatness, or gold, could nothing move her.Leon. 'Tis very strange, being so young and fair.Leu. She's almost thirty Sir.Leon. How do you know her age so just?Leu. She told it me her selfOnce when she went about to shew by reasonI should leave wooing her.Leon. She stains the ripest Virgins of her age.Leu. If I had sin'd with her, I would be lothTo publish her disgrace: but by my lifeI would have told it you, because I thinkYou would have pardon'd me the rather:And I will tell you father: By this light Sir,(But that I never will bestow my selfBut to your liking) if she now would have me,I now would marry her.Leon. How's that Leucippus!Leu. Sir, will you pardon me one fault, which yetI have not done, but had a will to do, and I will tell it?Leon. Be't what it will I pardon thee.Leu. I offered marriage to her.Leon. Did she refuse it?Leucip. With that earnestn[e]ss, and almost scornTo think of any other after her lost Mate, that sheMade me think my self unworthy of her.Leon. You have stay'd too long Leucippus.Leu. Yes Sir, forgive me Heaven, what multitudeOf oaths have I bestow'd on lies, and yet they wereOfficious lyes, there was no malice in 'em.Leon. She is the fairest creature that ever I beheld;And then so chaste, 'tis wonderfull: the more I lookOn her, the more I am amaz'd.I have long thought of a wife, and one I would haveHad, but that I was afraid to meet a womanThat might abuse my age: but here she isWhom I may trust to; of a chastitieImpregnable, and approved so by my son:The meaness of her birth will still preserve herIn due obedience; and her beauty isOf force enough to pull me back to youth.My son once sent away, whose rivall-shipI have just cause to fear, if power, o[r] gold,Or wit, can win her to me, she is mine.Nephew Ismenus, I have new intelligence,Your Province is unquiet still.Ismen. [Ime] glad on't.Leon. And so dangerously, that I must send thePrince in person with you.Ismen. [Ime] glad of that too: Sir, will you dispatch usWe shall wither here for ever.Leon. You shall be dispatcht within this hour:Leucippus, never wonder, nor ask, it must be thus.Lady I ask your pardon, whose virtue I haveSlubberd with my tongue, and you shall ever beChast in my memory hereafter;But we old men often doat: to make amends forMy great fault, receive that Ring:I'm sorry for your grief, may it soon leave you:Come my Lords lets begon.[Exeunt.Bacha. Heaven bless your Grace.One that had but so much modestie left, as to blush,Or shrink a little at his first encounter,Had been undone; where I come off with honor,And gain too: they that never wou'd be tractIn any course, by the most subtle senseMust bear it through with frontless impudence.[Exit.Enter Dorialus, Agenor, NisusDor. Gentlemen this is a strange peece of Justice,To put the wretched Dwarf to death becauseShe doated on him; Is she not a woman, andSubject to those mad figaries her whole SexIs infected with? Had she lov'd you, or you, or I,Or all on's (as indeed the more the merryer stillWith them) must we therefore have our heads par'dWith a Hatchet? So she may love all the NobilityOut o'th Dukedome in a month, and let the raskals in.Nis. You will not, or you do not see the needThat makes this just to the world?Dor. I cannot tell, I would be loth to feel it:But the best is, she loves not proper men, we threeWere in wise cases else: but make me know this need.[N]is. Why yes: He being taken away, this base incontinence dyes presently, and she must see her shame and sorrow for it.Dor. Pray God she do: but was the Sprat beheaded, Or did they swing him about like a chickin, and so break his neck?Agen. Yes, he was beheaded, and a solemn Justice made of it.Dor. That might have been deducted.Agenor. Why how would you have had him dyed?Dori. Faith I would have had him rosted like a warden in a brown paper, and no more talk on't: or a feather stuck in's head, like a Quail: or a hanged him in a Dog-coller: what should he be beheaded? we shall have it grow so base shortly, Gentlemen will be out of love with it.Nis. I wonder from whence this of the Dwarf's first sprung?Dor. From an old leacherous pair of breeches that lay upon a wench to keep her warm: for certainly they are no mans work: and I am sure a Monkey would get one of the guard to this fellow, he was no bigger than a small Portmanteu, and much about that making if'tad legs. Age. But Gentlemen, what say you to the Prince?Nis. I, concerning his being sent I know not whither.Dorialus. Why then he will come home I know not when: you shall pardon me, I'll talk no more of this subject, but say, gods be with him where ere he is, and send him well home again: For why, he is gone, or when he will return, let them know that directed him: Only this, there's mad Morisco's in the state; but what they are, I'll tell you when I know. Come, let's go, hear all, and say nothing.Agen. Content.[Exeunt.Enter Timantus, and TelamonTela. Timantus, is the Duke ready yet?Tima. Almost.Tela. What ails him?Tima. Faith I know not, I think he has dreamt he's but eighteen: has been wors[e] since he sent you forth for the frizling iron.Tel. That cannot be, he lay in Gloves all night, and this morning I brought him a new Periwig, with a lock at it, and knockt up a swing in's chamber.Tim. O but since, his Taylor came, and they have fallen out about the fashion on's cloaths: and yonders a fellow come, has board a hole in's ear; and he has bespoke a Vaulting-horse, you shall see him come forth presently: he looks like Winter, stuck here and there with fresh flowers.Tela. Will he not Tilt think you?Tima. I think he will.Tela. What does he mean to doe?Tim. I know not: but by this light I think he is in love; he wou'd ha' bin shav'd but for me.Tela. In love with whom?Tim. I could guess, but you shall pardon me: he will take me along with him some-whither.Tela. I overheard him ask your opinion of some bodies beauty.Tima. Yes, there it goes, that makes him so youthfull, and h'as layd by his Crutch, and halts now with a leading staff.Enter Leontine with a staff and a looking glassLeon. Timantus.Tim. Sir.Leon. This Feather is not large enough.Tim. Yes faith, 'tis such [a] one as the rest of the young Gallants wear.Leon. Telamon, does it doe well?Tela. Sir, it becomes you, or you become it, the rareliest —Leon. Away, dost think so?Tela. Think Sir? I know it. Sir, the Princess, is past all hope of life since the Dwarf was put to death.Leon. Let her be so, I have other matters in hand: but this same Taylor angers me, he has made my doublet so wide: and see, the knave has put no points at my arme.Tima. Those will be put to quickly Sir, upon any occasion.Leon. Telamon, have you bid this Dancer come a mornings?Tela. Yes Sir.Leon. T[i]mantus, let me see the glass again: look you how careless you are grown, is this tooth well put in?Tima. Which Sir?Leon. This Sir.Tima. It shall be.Telam. Me thinks that tooth should put him in mind on's years: and Timantus, stands as if (seeing the Duke, in such a youthfull habit) he were looking in's mouth how old he were.Leon. So, so.Tela. Will you have your Gown sir?Leon. My Gown? why, am I sick? bring me my Sword.[Exit Tela.[Timantus,] Let a couple of the great horses be brought out for us.Tima. He'll kill himself. Why, will you ride Sir:Leon. Ride? Dost thou think I cannot ride?Timan. O yes Sir, I know it: but as I conceive your journey, you wou'd have it private; and then you were better take a Coach.Leon. These Coaches make me sick: yet 'tis no matter, let it be so.Enter Telamon with a swordTel. Sir, here's your sword.Leon. O well sed: let me see it, I could me thinksWhy Telamon, bring me another: what, thinkst thouI will wear a sword in vain?Tela. He has not strength enough to draw it,A yoak of Fleas ty'd to a hair would have drawn it.'Tis out sir now, the Scabbard is broke.Leon. O put it up again, and on with it; me thinks Iam not drest till I feel my sword on.Telamon, if any of my counsell aske for me,Say I am gone to take the air.Tima. He has not been drest this twenty years then, Ifthis vain hold but a week, he will learn to play o'th basevioll and sing to't: He's poetical alreadie;For I have spide a Sonnet on's making lye by's beds side,I'll be so unmannerly to read it.[Exit.Enter Hidaspes, Cleophila, and Hero, Hidaspes in a Bed[Hida.] He's dead, he's dead, and I am following.Cleo. Ask Cupid mercie Madam.Hida. O my heart.Cleo. Help!Hero. Stir her:Hida. O, O!Cleo. She's going, wretched wom[e]n that we are:Look to her, and I'll pray the while.Hero. Why Madam?[Shee kneels.Cleo. Cupid, pardon what is past,And forgive our sins at last,Then we will be coy no more,But thy Deity Adore,Troths at fifteen we will plight,And will tread a Dance [each] night.In the fields, or by the Fire,With the youths that have desire. (How does she yet?)Hero. O ill:Cleo. Given Ear-rings we will wear,Bracelets of our Lovers hair,Which they on our Arms shall twist,With their Names carv'd on our wrist:All the money that we owe,We in Tokens will bestow:And learn to write, that when 'tis sent,Onely our Loves know what it meant:O then pardon what is past,And forgive our Sins at last. (What, Mends she?)Hero. Nothing, you do it not wantonly, you shou'd sing.[Cleo. Why?Hero. Leave, leave, 'tis now too late.Shee is dead: Her last is breathed.]Cleo. What shall we doe.Hero. Go run,And tell the Duke; And whilst I'll close her eyes.Thus I shut thy faded light,And put it in eternall night.Where is she can boldly sayThough she be as fresh as May:She shall not by this Corps be laid,Ere to morrows light doe fade.Let us all now living be,Warn'd by thy strict Chastitie;And marry all fast as we can,Till then we keep a piece of man,Wrongfully from them that owe itSoon may every Maid bestow it.[Exeunt.Enter Bacha and a MaidBac. Who is it?Maid. Forsooth there's [a] gallant Coach at the dore,And the brave old man in't, that you said was the Duke.Bacha. Cupid, grant he may be taken. Away:Maid. He is coming up, and looks the swaggeringst, and has such glorious cloaths.Bac. Let all the house see me sad, and see all handsome.Enter Leontius, and Timantus, a Jewell and a RingLeon. Nay widow flie not back, we come not now to chide, stand up and bid me welcome.Bac. To a poor widows house that knows no end of her ill fortune: your Highness is most welcome.Leon. Come kiss me then, this is but manners widow: Nere fling your head aside, I have more cause of grief than you: my Daughters dead: but what? 'Tis nothing. Is the rough French horse brought to the dore? They say he is a high goer, I shall soon try his mettle.Tim. He will be Sir, and the gray Barbary, they are fiery both.Leon. They are the better: Before the gods I am lightsome, very lightsome: How doest thou like me widow?Bach. As a person in whom all graces are.Leon. Come, come, ye flatter: I'll clap your cheek for that, and you shall not be angry.Hast no Musick: Now could I cut three times with ease, and do a cross point, should shame all your gallants.Bacha. I do believe you, and your self too: Lord what a fine old Zany my Love has made him! 'Is mine, I am sure: Heaven make me thankful for him.[Leon.] Tell me how old thou art, my pretty sweet heart?Timantus. Your Grace will not buy her, she may trip Sir?Bacha. My sorrow showes me elder then I am by many years.Leon. Thou art so witty I must kiss agen.Tima. Indeed her Age lyes not in her mouth: nere look it there Sir, she has a better Register, if it be not burnt.Leon. I will kiss thee, I am a fire Timantus.Tima. Can you chuse Sir, having such heavenly fire before you?Leon. Widow, guess why I come, I prethee do.Bacha. I cannot Sir, unless you be pleas'd to make a mirth out of my rudeness: and that I hope your pity will not let ye, the subject is so Barren: Bite King, Bite, I'll let you play a while.Leon. Now as I am an honest man, I'll tell thee truely, how many foot did I Jump yesterday Timantus? Tim. Fourteen of your own, and some three fingers.Bacha. This fellow lyes as lightly, as if hee were in cutTaffata.Alas good Almanack get thee to Bed, and tell whatweather we shall have to morrow.Leon. Widow I am come in short to be a Suiter.Bacha. For whom?Leon. Why by my troth, I come to wooe thee wench:And win thee for my self: Nay, look upon me:I have about me that will do it.Bac. Now Heaven defend me, your Whore [you] shall never:I thank the Gods, I have a little left me to keep me warm,and honest: if your grace take not that, I seek no more.Leon. I am so far from taking any thing, I'll add untothee.Bach. Such Additions may be for your ease Sir,Not my honestie: I am well in being single, good Sir seekanother, I am no meat for money.Leon. Shall I fight for thee?This sword shall cut his throat, that dars lay claimBut to a Finger of thee, but to a look, I wouldSee such a fellow.Bac. It would be but a cold sight to you:This is the father of S. George a foot-back,Can such dry mumming talk.Tim. Before the gods, your grace lookes like Æneas.Bac. He looks like his old father upon his back,Crying to get Aboord.Leon. How shall I win thy love, I pray thee tell me?I'll marry thee if thou desirest that: That is an honestCourse, I am in good earnest, and presently within this hour,[I] am mad for thee: prethee deny me not,For as I live I'll pine thee, but I'll have thee.Bacha. Now he's in the Toyl, I'll hold him fast.Tima. You do not know what 'tis to be a Queen,Go too you Maid, else what the old man falls short of,there's others can eech out, when you please to call on 'em.Bacha. I understand you not, Love I adore thee,Sir, on my knees I give you hearty thanks, for so muchHonoring your humble Hand-mayd above her birth:Far more her weak deservings, I dare not trust the Envioustongues of all that must repine at my unworthy rising.Beside, you have many fair ones in your KingdomeBorn to such worth: O turn your self aboutAnd make a Noble choice.Leon. If I do, let me famish: I will have thee,Or break up house, and boord here.Bac. Sir, you may command an unwilling woman to obey ye: but heaven knows —Leon. No more: these half a dozen kisses, and this Jewell, and every thing I have, and away with me, and clap it up; and have a boy by morning Timantus. let one be sent post for my son again: and for Ismenus, they are scarce twenty miles on their way yet, by that time we'll be married.Tima. There shall Sir.[Exeunt.