Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.
Enter Valentine, Alice, and Cellide.
Cel. Indeed he's much chang'd, extreamly alter'd,
His colour faded strangely too.
His colour faded strangely too.
Val. The air,
The sharp and nipping air of our new climate
I hope is all, which will as well restore
To health again th' affected body by it,
And make it stronger far, as leave it dangerous;
How do's my sweet, our blessed hour comes on now
Apace my Cellide, (it knocks at door)
In which our loves, and long desires like rivers
Rising asunder far, shall fall together,
Within these [two] daies dear.
The sharp and nipping air of our new climate
I hope is all, which will as well restore
To health again th' affected body by it,
And make it stronger far, as leave it dangerous;
How do's my sweet, our blessed hour comes on now
Apace my Cellide, (it knocks at door)
In which our loves, and long desires like rivers
Rising asunder far, shall fall together,
Within these [two] daies dear.
Cel. When heaven, and you Sir
Shall think it fit: for by your wills I am govern'd.
Shall think it fit: for by your wills I am govern'd.
Alice. 'Twere good some preparation.
Enter Frank.
Val. All that may be:
It shall be no blind wedding: and all the joy
Of all our friends I hope: he looks worse hourly,
How does my friend, my self? he sweats too coldly,
His pulse, like the slow dropping of a spowt,
Scarce gives his function: how is't man, alas Sir,
You look extreme ill: is it any old grief,
The weight of which?
It shall be no blind wedding: and all the joy
Of all our friends I hope: he looks worse hourly,
How does my friend, my self? he sweats too coldly,
His pulse, like the slow dropping of a spowt,
Scarce gives his function: how is't man, alas Sir,
You look extreme ill: is it any old grief,
The weight of which?
Fra. None, gentle Sir, that I feel,
Your love is too too tender,
Nay believe Sir.
Your love is too too tender,
Nay believe Sir.
Cel. You cannot be the master of your health,
Either some feaver lyes in wait to catch ye,
Whose harbinger's already in your face
We see preparing: or some discontent,
Which if it lye in this house, I dare say
Both for this noble Gentleman, and all
That live within it, shall as readily
Be purg'd away, and with as much care soften'd,
And where the cause is.
Either some feaver lyes in wait to catch ye,
Whose harbinger's already in your face
We see preparing: or some discontent,
Which if it lye in this house, I dare say
Both for this noble Gentleman, and all
That live within it, shall as readily
Be purg'd away, and with as much care soften'd,
And where the cause is.
Fran. 'Tis a joy to be ill,
Where such a vertuous fair Physitian
Is ready to relieve: your noble cares
I must, and ever shall be thankfull for,
And would my service (I dare not look upon her)
But be not fearfull, I feel nothing dangerous,
A grudging caus'd by th' alteration
Of air, may hang upon me: my heart's whole,
(I would it were.)
Where such a vertuous fair Physitian
Is ready to relieve: your noble cares
I must, and ever shall be thankfull for,
And would my service (I dare not look upon her)
But be not fearfull, I feel nothing dangerous,
A grudging caus'd by th' alteration
Of air, may hang upon me: my heart's whole,
(I would it were.)
Val. I knew the cause to be so.
Fra. No, you shall never know it.
Alice. Some warm broths
To purge the bloud, and keep your bed a day Sir,
And sweat it out.
To purge the bloud, and keep your bed a day Sir,
And sweat it out.
Cel. I have such cordials,
That if you will but promise me to take 'em,
Indeed you shall be well, and very quickly,
I'le be your Doctor, you shall see how finely
I'le fetch ye up again.
That if you will but promise me to take 'em,
Indeed you shall be well, and very quickly,
I'le be your Doctor, you shall see how finely
I'le fetch ye up again.
Val. He sweats extreamly:
Hot, very hot: his pulse beats like a drum now,
Feel Sister, feel, feel sweet.
Hot, very hot: his pulse beats like a drum now,
Feel Sister, feel, feel sweet.
Fra. How that touch stung me!
Val. My gown there.
Alice. Some see his bed made.
Val. This is most unhappy,
Take courage man, 'tis nothing but an ague.
Take courage man, 'tis nothing but an ague.
Cel. And this shall be the last fit.
Fra. Not by thousands:
Now what 'tis to be truly miserable,
I feel at full experience.
Now what 'tis to be truly miserable,
I feel at full experience.
Alice. He grows fainter.
Val. Come, lead him in, he shall to bed: a vomit,
I'le have a vomit for him.
I'le have a vomit for him.
Alice. A purge first,
And if he breath'd a vein.
And if he breath'd a vein.
Val. No, no, no bleeding,
A Clyster will cool all.
A Clyster will cool all.
Cel. Be of good cheer Sir.
Alice. He's loth to speak.
Cel. How hard he holds my hand aunt!
Alice. I do not like that sign.
Val. Away to's chamber,
Softly, he's full of pain, be diligent
With all the care ye have: would I had scus'd him.
Softly, he's full of pain, be diligent
With all the care ye have: would I had scus'd him.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.
Enter Dorothea, and Thomas.
Dor. Why do you rail at me? do I dwell in her
To force her to do this or that? your letter,
A wilde-fire on your letter; your sweet Letter;
You are so learned in your writs: ye stand now
As if ye had worried sheep: you must turn tippet,
And suddenly, and truely, and discreetly
Put on the shape of order and humanity,
Or you must marry Malkyn the May Lady:
You must, dear Brother: do you make me carrier
Of your confound-mee's, and your culverings?
Am I a seemly agent for your oaths?
Who would have writ such a debosh'd?
To force her to do this or that? your letter,
A wilde-fire on your letter; your sweet Letter;
You are so learned in your writs: ye stand now
As if ye had worried sheep: you must turn tippet,
And suddenly, and truely, and discreetly
Put on the shape of order and humanity,
Or you must marry Malkyn the May Lady:
You must, dear Brother: do you make me carrier
Of your confound-mee's, and your culverings?
Am I a seemly agent for your oaths?
Who would have writ such a debosh'd?
Dor. In blasphemies?
Rack a maids tender ears, with dam's and Devils?
Rack a maids tender ears, with dam's and Devils?
Thom. Out, out upon thee,
How would you have me write?
Begin with my love premised? surely,
And by my truly Mistress.
How would you have me write?
Begin with my love premised? surely,
And by my truly Mistress.
Dor. Take your own course,
For I see all perswasion's lost upon ye:
Humanitie, all drown'd: from this hour fairly
I'le wash my hands of all ye do: farewel Sir.
For I see all perswasion's lost upon ye:
Humanitie, all drown'd: from this hour fairly
I'le wash my hands of all ye do: farewel Sir.
Tho. Thou art not mad?
Dor. No, if I were, dear Brother
I would keep you company: get a new Mistress
Some suburb Saint, that six pence, and some others
Will draw to parley: carowse her health in Cans
And candles ends, and quarrel for her beauty,
Such a sweet heart must serve your turn: your old love
Releases ye of all your tyes; disclaims ye
And utterly abjures your memory
Till time has better manag'd ye, will ye command me—
I would keep you company: get a new Mistress
Some suburb Saint, that six pence, and some others
Will draw to parley: carowse her health in Cans
And candles ends, and quarrel for her beauty,
Such a sweet heart must serve your turn: your old love
Releases ye of all your tyes; disclaims ye
And utterly abjures your memory
Till time has better manag'd ye, will ye command me—
Thom. What, bob'd of all sides?
Dor. Any worthy service
Unto my Father Sir, that I may tell him
Even to his peace of heart, and much rejoycing
Ye are his true Son Tom still? will it please ye
To beat some half a dozen of his servants presently,
That I may testifie you have brought the same faith
Unblemish'd home, ye carried out? or if it like you
There be two chambermaids within, young wenches,
Handsom and apt for exercise: you have been good, Sir,
And charitable though I say it Signiour
To such poor orphans: and now, by th' way I think on't
Your young rear Admiral, I mean your last bastard
Don John, ye had by Lady Blanch the Dairy Maid,
Is by an Academy of learned Gypsies,
Foreseeing some strange wonder in the infant
Stoln from the Nurse, and wanders with those Prophets.
There is plate in the parlour, and good store Sir,
When your wants shall supply it. So most humbly
(First rendring my due service) I take leave Sir. [Exit.
Unto my Father Sir, that I may tell him
Even to his peace of heart, and much rejoycing
Ye are his true Son Tom still? will it please ye
To beat some half a dozen of his servants presently,
That I may testifie you have brought the same faith
Unblemish'd home, ye carried out? or if it like you
There be two chambermaids within, young wenches,
Handsom and apt for exercise: you have been good, Sir,
And charitable though I say it Signiour
To such poor orphans: and now, by th' way I think on't
Your young rear Admiral, I mean your last bastard
Don John, ye had by Lady Blanch the Dairy Maid,
Is by an Academy of learned Gypsies,
Foreseeing some strange wonder in the infant
Stoln from the Nurse, and wanders with those Prophets.
There is plate in the parlour, and good store Sir,
When your wants shall supply it. So most humbly
(First rendring my due service) I take leave Sir. [Exit.
Tho. Why Doll, why Doll I say: my letter fub'd too,
And no access without I mend my manners?
All my designes in Limbo? I will have her,
Yes, I will have her, though the Devil roar,
I am resolv'd that, if she live above ground,
I'le not be bob'd i'th' nose with every bobtail:
I will be civil too, now I think better,
Exceeding civil, wondrous finely carried:
And yet be mad upon occasion,
And stark mad too, and save my land: my Father,
I'le have my will of him, how e're my wench goes. [Exit.
And no access without I mend my manners?
All my designes in Limbo? I will have her,
Yes, I will have her, though the Devil roar,
I am resolv'd that, if she live above ground,
I'le not be bob'd i'th' nose with every bobtail:
I will be civil too, now I think better,
Exceeding civil, wondrous finely carried:
And yet be mad upon occasion,
And stark mad too, and save my land: my Father,
I'le have my will of him, how e're my wench goes. [Exit.
Enter Sebastian, and Launcelot.
Seb. Sirrah, I say still you have spoil'd your Master: leave your stiches:
I say thou hast spoil'd thy Master.
I say thou hast spoil'd thy Master.
Lau. I say how Sir?
Seb. Marry thou hast taught him like an arrant rascal,
First to read perfectly: which on my blessing
I warn'd him from: for I knew if he read once,
He was a lost man. Secondly, Sir Launcelot,
Sir lowsie Launcelot, ye have suffer'd him
Against my power first, then against my precept,
To keep that simpring sort of people company,
That sober men call civil: mark ye that Sir?
First to read perfectly: which on my blessing
I warn'd him from: for I knew if he read once,
He was a lost man. Secondly, Sir Launcelot,
Sir lowsie Launcelot, ye have suffer'd him
Against my power first, then against my precept,
To keep that simpring sort of people company,
That sober men call civil: mark ye that Sir?
Lau. And't please your worship.
Seb. It does not please my worship,
Nor shall not please my worship: thirdly and lastly,
Which if the law were here, I would hang thee for,
(However I will lame thee) like a villain,
Thou hast wrought him
Clean to forget what 'tis to do a mischief,
A handsom mischief, such as thou knew'st I lov'd well.
My servants all are sound now, my drink sowr'd,
Not a horse pawn'd, nor plaid away: no warrants
Come for the breach of peace.
Men travel with their mony, and nothing meets 'em:
I was accurs'd to send thee, thou wert ever
Leaning to laziness, and loss of spirit,
Thou slept'st still like a cork upon the water.
Nor shall not please my worship: thirdly and lastly,
Which if the law were here, I would hang thee for,
(However I will lame thee) like a villain,
Thou hast wrought him
Clean to forget what 'tis to do a mischief,
A handsom mischief, such as thou knew'st I lov'd well.
My servants all are sound now, my drink sowr'd,
Not a horse pawn'd, nor plaid away: no warrants
Come for the breach of peace.
Men travel with their mony, and nothing meets 'em:
I was accurs'd to send thee, thou wert ever
Leaning to laziness, and loss of spirit,
Thou slept'st still like a cork upon the water.
Lau. Your worship knows, I ever was accounted
The most debosh'd, and please you to remember,
Every day drunk too, for your worships credit,
I broke the Butlers head too.
The most debosh'd, and please you to remember,
Every day drunk too, for your worships credit,
I broke the Butlers head too.
Seb. No, base Palliard,
I do remember yet that anslaight, thou wast beaten,
And fledst before the Butler; a black jack
Playing upon thee furiously, I saw it:
I saw thee scatter'd rogue, behold thy Master.
I do remember yet that anslaight, thou wast beaten,
And fledst before the Butler; a black jack
Playing upon thee furiously, I saw it:
I saw thee scatter'd rogue, behold thy Master.
Enter Thomas, with a Book.
Thom. What sweet content dwells here!
Lau. Put up your Book Sir,
We are all undone else.
We are all undone else.
Seb. Tom, when is the horse-race?
Thom. I know not Sir.
Seb. You will be there?
Tho. Not I Sir,
I have forgot those journeys.
I have forgot those journeys.
Seb. Spoil'd for ever.
The Cocking holds at Derby, and there will be
Jack Wild-oats, and Will Purser.
The Cocking holds at Derby, and there will be
Jack Wild-oats, and Will Purser.
Tho. I am sorry, Sir,
They should employ their time so slenderly,
Their understandings will bear better courses.
They should employ their time so slenderly,
Their understandings will bear better courses.
Seb. Yes, I will marry again: but Monsieur Thomas,
What say ye to the Gentleman that challeng'd ye
Before he went, and the fellow ye fell out with?
What say ye to the Gentleman that challeng'd ye
Before he went, and the fellow ye fell out with?
Tho. O good Sir,
Remember not those follies; where I have wrong'd, Sir,
(So much I have now learn'd to discern my self)
My means, and my repentance shall make even,
Nor do I think it any imputation
To let the Law perswade me.
Remember not those follies; where I have wrong'd, Sir,
(So much I have now learn'd to discern my self)
My means, and my repentance shall make even,
Nor do I think it any imputation
To let the Law perswade me.
Seb. Any Woman:
I care not of what colour, or complexion,
Any that can bear Children: rest ye merry. [Exit.
I care not of what colour, or complexion,
Any that can bear Children: rest ye merry. [Exit.
La. Ye have utterly undone; clean discharg'd me,
I am for the ragged Regiment.
I am for the ragged Regiment.
La. O pardon me.
I know him but too well: eightscore I take it
Will not keep me from beating, if not killing:
I'le give him leave to break a leg, and thank him:
You might have sav'd all this, and sworn a little:
What had an oath or two been? or a head broke,
Though 'thad been mine, to have satisfied the old man?
I know him but too well: eightscore I take it
Will not keep me from beating, if not killing:
I'le give him leave to break a leg, and thank him:
You might have sav'd all this, and sworn a little:
What had an oath or two been? or a head broke,
Though 'thad been mine, to have satisfied the old man?
Tho. I'le break it yet.
La. Now 'tis too late, I take it:
Will ye be drunk to night, (a less intreaty
Has serv'd your turn) and save all yet? not mad drunk,
For then ye are the Devil, yet the drunker,
The better for your Father still: your state is desperate,
And with a desperate cure ye must recover it:
Do something, do Sir: do some drunken thing,
Some mad thing, or some any thing to help us.
Will ye be drunk to night, (a less intreaty
Has serv'd your turn) and save all yet? not mad drunk,
For then ye are the Devil, yet the drunker,
The better for your Father still: your state is desperate,
And with a desperate cure ye must recover it:
Do something, do Sir: do some drunken thing,
Some mad thing, or some any thing to help us.
Tho. Go for a Fidler then: the poor old Fidler
That sayes his Songs: but first where lyes my Mistris,
Did ye enquire out that?
That sayes his Songs: but first where lyes my Mistris,
Did ye enquire out that?
La. I'th' Lodge, alone Sir,
None but her own Attendants.
None but her own Attendants.
Tho. 'Tis the happier:
Away then, find this Fidler, and do not miss me
By nine a Clock.
Away then, find this Fidler, and do not miss me
By nine a Clock.
La. Via. [Exit.
Tho. My Father's mad now,
And ten to one will disinherit me:
I'le put him to his plunge, and yet be merry.
What Ribabald?
And ten to one will disinherit me:
I'le put him to his plunge, and yet be merry.
What Ribabald?
Enter Hylas and Sam.
Hyl. Don Thomasio.
De bene venew.
De bene venew.
Tho. I do embrace your body:
How do'st thou Sam?
How do'st thou Sam?
Sam. The same Sam still: your friend Sir.
Tho. And how is't bouncing boyes?
Hyl. Thou art not alter'd,
They said thou wert all Monsieur.
They said thou wert all Monsieur.
Tho. O believe it,
I am much alter'd, much another way:
The civil'st Gentleman in all your Country:
Do not ye see me alter'd? yea, and nay Gentlemen,
A much converted man: where's the best wine boys?
I am much alter'd, much another way:
The civil'st Gentleman in all your Country:
Do not ye see me alter'd? yea, and nay Gentlemen,
A much converted man: where's the best wine boys?
Hyl. A sound Convertite.
Tho. What, hast thou made up twenty yet?
Hyl. By'r Lady,
I have giv'n a shrewd push at it, for as I take it,
The last I fell in love with, scor'd sixteen.
I have giv'n a shrewd push at it, for as I take it,
The last I fell in love with, scor'd sixteen.
Tho. Look to your skin, Rambaldo the sleeping Gyant
Will rowze and rent thee piece-meal.
Will rowze and rent thee piece-meal.
Sam. He ne'r perceives 'em
Longer than looking on.
Longer than looking on.
Thom. Thou never meanest then
To marry any that thou lov'st?
To marry any that thou lov'st?
Hyl. No surely,
Nor any wise man I think; marriage?
Would you have me now begin to be prentice,
And learn to cobble other mens old Boots?
Nor any wise man I think; marriage?
Would you have me now begin to be prentice,
And learn to cobble other mens old Boots?
Sam. Why, you may take a Maid.
Hyl. Where? can you tell me?
Or if 'twere possible I might get a Maid,
To what use should I put her? look upon her,
Dandle her upon my knee, and give her sugar-sops?
All the new Gowns i'th' Parish will not please her,
If she be high bred, for there's the sport she aims at,
Nor all the feathers in the Fryars.
Or if 'twere possible I might get a Maid,
To what use should I put her? look upon her,
Dandle her upon my knee, and give her sugar-sops?
All the new Gowns i'th' Parish will not please her,
If she be high bred, for there's the sport she aims at,
Nor all the feathers in the Fryars.
Thom. Then take a Widow,
A good stanch wench, that's tith.
A good stanch wench, that's tith.
Hyl. And begin a new order,
Live in a dead mans monument, not I, Sir,
I'll keep mine own road, a true mendicant;
What pleasure this day yields me, I never covet
To lay up for the morrow; and methinks ever
Anothers mans Cook dresses my diet neatest.
Live in a dead mans monument, not I, Sir,
I'll keep mine own road, a true mendicant;
What pleasure this day yields me, I never covet
To lay up for the morrow; and methinks ever
Anothers mans Cook dresses my diet neatest.
Thom. Thou wast wont to love old women, fat and flat nosed,
And thou would'st say they kiss'd like Flounders, flat
All the face over.
And thou would'st say they kiss'd like Flounders, flat
All the face over.
Thom. Thou hast been a precious Rogue.
Sam. Only his eyes; and o' my Conscience
They lye with half the Kingdom.
They lye with half the Kingdom.
[Enter over the Stage, Physicians and others.
Thom. What's the matter?
Whither go all these men-menders, these Physicians?
Whose Dog lies sick o'th' mulligrubs?
Whither go all these men-menders, these Physicians?
Whose Dog lies sick o'th' mulligrubs?
Sam. O the Gentleman,
The young smug Seigniour, Master Valentine,
Brought out of travel with him, as I hear,
Is faln sick o'th' sudden, desperate sick,
And likely they go thither.
The young smug Seigniour, Master Valentine,
Brought out of travel with him, as I hear,
Is faln sick o'th' sudden, desperate sick,
And likely they go thither.
Thom. Who? young Frank?
The only temper'd spirit, Scholar, Souldier,
Courtier; and all in one piece? 'tis not possible.
The only temper'd spirit, Scholar, Souldier,
Courtier; and all in one piece? 'tis not possible.
Enter Alice.
Sam. There's one can better satisfie you.
Thom. Mistress Alice,
I joy to see you, Lady.
I joy to see you, Lady.
Alice. Good Monsieur Thomas,
You're welcome from your travel; I am hasty,
A Gentleman lyes sick, Sir.
You're welcome from your travel; I am hasty,
A Gentleman lyes sick, Sir.
Thom. And how dost thou?
I must know, and I will know.
I must know, and I will know.
Alice. Excellent well,
As well as may be, thank ye.
As well as may be, thank ye.
Thom. I am glad on't,
And prithee hark.
And prithee hark.
Alice. I cannot stay.
Thom. A while, Alice.
Sam. Never look so narrowly, the mark's in her mouth still.
Hyl. I am looking at her legs, prithee be quiet.
Alice. I cannot stay.
Thom. O sweet Alice.
Hyl. A clean instep,
And that I love a life, I did not mark
This woman half so well before, how quick
And nimble like a shadow, there her leg shew'd;
By th'mass a neat one, the colour of her Stocking,
A much inviting colour.
And that I love a life, I did not mark
This woman half so well before, how quick
And nimble like a shadow, there her leg shew'd;
By th'mass a neat one, the colour of her Stocking,
A much inviting colour.
Alice. My good Monsieur,
I have no time to talk now.
I have no time to talk now.
Hyl. Pretty Breeches,
Finely becoming too.
Finely becoming too.
Thom. By Heaven.
Alice. She will not,
I can assure you that, and so.
I can assure you that, and so.
Thom. But this word.
Alice. I cannot, nor I will not, good Lord. [Exit.
Hyl. Well, you shall hear more from me.
Thom. We'll go visit,
'Tis Charity; besides, I know she is there;
And under visitation I shall see her;
Will ye along?
'Tis Charity; besides, I know she is there;
And under visitation I shall see her;
Will ye along?
Hyl. By any means.
Thom. Be sure then
I be a civil man: I have sport in hand, Boys,
Shall make mirth for a Marriage-day.
I be a civil man: I have sport in hand, Boys,
Shall make mirth for a Marriage-day.
Hyl. Away then. [Exeunt.
SCENE III.
Enter three Physicians with an Urinal.
1 Phy. A Pleurisie, I see it.
2 Phy. I rather hold it
For tremor Cordis.
For tremor Cordis.
3 Phy. Do you mark the Fæces?
'Tis a most pestilent contagious Feaver,
A surfeit, a plaguey surfeit; he must bleed.
'Tis a most pestilent contagious Feaver,
A surfeit, a plaguey surfeit; he must bleed.
1 Phy. By no means.
3 Phy. I say bleed.
1 Phy. I say 'tis dangerous;
The Person being spent so much before-hand,
And Nature drawn so low, Clysters, cool Clysters.
The Person being spent so much before-hand,
And Nature drawn so low, Clysters, cool Clysters.
2 Phy. Now with your favours I should think a Vomit:
For take away the Cause, the Effect must follow,
The Stomach's foul and fur'd, the pot's unflam'd yet.
For take away the Cause, the Effect must follow,
The Stomach's foul and fur'd, the pot's unflam'd yet.
3 Phy. No, no, we'll rectifie that part by mild means,
Nature so sunk must find no violence.
Nature so sunk must find no violence.
Enter a Servant.
Serv. Will't please ye draw near? the weak Gentleman
Grows worse and worse still.
Grows worse and worse still.
1 Phy. Come, we will attend him.
2 Phy. He shall do well, my friend.
Serv. My Masters love, Sir.
1. Excellent well I warrant thee, right and straight, friend.
3 Phy. There's no doubt in him, none at all, ne'r fear him.
[Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
Enter Valentine, and Michael.
Mich. That he is desperate sick I do believe well,
And that without a speedy cure it kills him,
But that it lyes within the help of Physick
Now to restore his health, or art to cure him;
Believe it you are cozen'd; clean beside it.
I would tell ye the true cause too, but 'twould vex ye,
Nay, run ye mad.
And that without a speedy cure it kills him,
But that it lyes within the help of Physick
Now to restore his health, or art to cure him;
Believe it you are cozen'd; clean beside it.
I would tell ye the true cause too, but 'twould vex ye,
Nay, run ye mad.
Val. May all I have restore him!
So dearly and so tenderly I love him,
I do not know the cause why, yea my life too.
So dearly and so tenderly I love him,
I do not know the cause why, yea my life too.
Mich. Now I perceive ye so well set, I'll tell you,
Hei mihi quod nullis Amor est medicabilis herbis.
Hei mihi quod nullis Amor est medicabilis herbis.
Val. 'Twas that I only fear'd: good friend go from me,
I find my heart too full for further conference;
You are assur'd of this?
I find my heart too full for further conference;
You are assur'd of this?
Mich. 'Twill prove too certain,
But bear it nobly, Sir, Youth hath his errours.
But bear it nobly, Sir, Youth hath his errours.
Val. I shall do, and I thank ye; 'pray ye no words on't.
Mich. I do not use to talk, Sir. [Exit.
Val. Ye are welcome;
Is there no Constancy in earthly things,
No happiness in us, but what must alter?
No life without the heavy load of Fortune?
What miseries we are, and to our selves,
Even then when full content seems to sit by us,
What daily sores and sorrows!
Is there no Constancy in earthly things,
No happiness in us, but what must alter?
No life without the heavy load of Fortune?
What miseries we are, and to our selves,
Even then when full content seems to sit by us,
What daily sores and sorrows!
Enter Alice.
Alice. O dear Brother,
The Gentleman if ever you will see him
Alive as I think.
The Gentleman if ever you will see him
Alive as I think.
Enter Cellide.
Cel. O he faints, for Heavens sake,
For Heavens sake, Sir.
For Heavens sake, Sir.
Val. Go comfort him, dear Sister. [Exit Alice.
And one word, sweet, with you; then we'll go to him.
What think you of this Gentleman?
And one word, sweet, with you; then we'll go to him.
What think you of this Gentleman?
Cel. My pity thinks, Sir,
'Tis great misfortune that he should thus perish.
'Tis great misfortune that he should thus perish.
Val. It is indeed, but Cellide, he must dye.
Cel. That were a cruelty, when care may cure him,
Why do you weep so, Sir? he may recover.
Why do you weep so, Sir? he may recover.
Val. He may, but with much danger; my sweet Cellide,
You have a powerful tongue.
You have a powerful tongue.
Cel. To do you service.
Val. I will betray his grief; he loves a Gentlewoman,
A friend of yours, whose heart another holds,
He knows it too; yet such a sway blind fancy,
And his not daring to deliver it,
Have won upon him, that they must undo him:
Never so hopeful and so sweet a Spirit,
Misfortune fell so foul on.
A friend of yours, whose heart another holds,
He knows it too; yet such a sway blind fancy,
And his not daring to deliver it,
Have won upon him, that they must undo him:
Never so hopeful and so sweet a Spirit,
Misfortune fell so foul on.
Cel. Sure she's hard hearted,
That can look on, and not relent, and deeply
At such a misery; she is not married?
That can look on, and not relent, and deeply
At such a misery; she is not married?
Val. Not yet.
Cel. Nor near it?
Val. When she please.
Cel. And pray Sir,
Does he deserve her truly, that she loves so?
Does he deserve her truly, that she loves so?
Val. His love may merit much, his Person little,
For there the match lyes mangled.
For there the match lyes mangled.
Cel. Is he your friend?
Val. He should be, for he is near me.
Val. Ye have pos'd me.
Cel. Methinks he should go near it, if he love her;
If she love him.
If she love him.
Val. She does, and would do equal.
Cel. 'Tis a hard task you put me; yet for your sake
I will speak to her, all the art I have;
My best endeavours; all his Youth and Person,
His mind more full of beauty; all his hopes
The memory of such a sad example,
Ill spoken of, and never old; the curses
Of loving maids, and what may be alledg'd
I'll lay before her: what's her Name? I am ready.
I will speak to her, all the art I have;
My best endeavours; all his Youth and Person,
His mind more full of beauty; all his hopes
The memory of such a sad example,
Ill spoken of, and never old; the curses
Of loving maids, and what may be alledg'd
I'll lay before her: what's her Name? I am ready.
Val. But will you deal effectually?
Cel. Most truly;
Nay, were it my self, at your entreaty.
Nay, were it my self, at your entreaty.
Val. And could ye be so pitiful?
Cel. So dutiful;
Because you urge it, Sir.
Because you urge it, Sir.
Val. It may be then
It is your self.
It is your self.
Cel. It is indeed, I know it,
And now know how ye love me.
And now know how ye love me.
Val. O my dearest,
Let but your goodness judge; your own part's pity;
Set but your eyes on his afflictions;
He is mine, and so becomes your charge: but think
What ruine Nature suffers in this young man,
What loss humanity, and noble manhood;
Take to your better judgment my declining,
My Age hung full of impotence, and ills,
My Body budding now no more: seer Winter
Hath seal'd that sap up, at the best and happiest
I can but be your infant, you my Nurse,
And how unequal dearest; where his years,
His sweetness, and his ever spring of goodness,
My fortunes growing in him, and my self too,
Which makes him all your old love; misconceive not,
I say not this as weary of my bondage,
Or ready to infringe my faith; bear witness,
Those eyes that I adore still, those lamps that light me
To all the joy I have.
Let but your goodness judge; your own part's pity;
Set but your eyes on his afflictions;
He is mine, and so becomes your charge: but think
What ruine Nature suffers in this young man,
What loss humanity, and noble manhood;
Take to your better judgment my declining,
My Age hung full of impotence, and ills,
My Body budding now no more: seer Winter
Hath seal'd that sap up, at the best and happiest
I can but be your infant, you my Nurse,
And how unequal dearest; where his years,
His sweetness, and his ever spring of goodness,
My fortunes growing in him, and my self too,
Which makes him all your old love; misconceive not,
I say not this as weary of my bondage,
Or ready to infringe my faith; bear witness,
Those eyes that I adore still, those lamps that light me
To all the joy I have.
Cel. You have said enough, Sir,
And more than e'r I thought that tongue could utter,
But you are a man, a false man too.
And more than e'r I thought that tongue could utter,
But you are a man, a false man too.
Val. Dear Cellide.
Cel. And now, to shew you that I am a woman
Rob'd of her rest, and fool'd out of her fondness,
The Gentleman shall live, and if he love me,
Ye shall be both my triumphs; I will to him,
And as you carelessly fling off your fortune,
And now grow weary of my easie winning,
So will I lose the name of Valentine,
From henceforth all his flatteries, and believe it,
Since ye have so slightly parted with affection,
And that affection you have pawn'd your faith for;
From this hour no repentance, vows, nor prayers
Shall pluck me back again; what I shall do,
Yet I will undertake his cure, expect it,
Shall minister no comfort, no content
To either of ye, but hourly more vexations.
Rob'd of her rest, and fool'd out of her fondness,
The Gentleman shall live, and if he love me,
Ye shall be both my triumphs; I will to him,
And as you carelessly fling off your fortune,
And now grow weary of my easie winning,
So will I lose the name of Valentine,
From henceforth all his flatteries, and believe it,
Since ye have so slightly parted with affection,
And that affection you have pawn'd your faith for;
From this hour no repentance, vows, nor prayers
Shall pluck me back again; what I shall do,
Yet I will undertake his cure, expect it,
Shall minister no comfort, no content
To either of ye, but hourly more vexations.
Val. Why, let him dye then.
Cel. No, so much I have loved
To be commanded by you, that even now,
Even in my hate, I will obey your wishes.
To be commanded by you, that even now,
Even in my hate, I will obey your wishes.
Val. What shall I do?
Cel. Dye like a fool unsorrow'd,
A bankrupt fool, that flings away his Treasure;
I must begin my cure.
A bankrupt fool, that flings away his Treasure;
I must begin my cure.
Val. And I my Crosses. [Exeunt.