Beaumont and Fletcher's Works, Vol. 04 of 10

Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.

Enter Frank sick, Physicians, and an Apothecary.

1 Phy. Clap on the Cataplasm.

Frank. Good Gentlemen,
Good learned Gentlemen.

2 Phy. And see these broths there,
Ready within this hour, pray keep your arms in,
The air is raw, and ministers much evil.

Fran. 'Pray leave me; I beseech ye leave me, Gentlemen,
I have no other sickness but your presence,
Convey your Cataplasms to those that need 'em,
Your Vomits, and your Clysters.

3 Phy. Pray be rul'd, Sir.

1 Phy. Bring in the Lettice Cap; you must be shaved, Sir,
And then how suddenly we'll make you sleep!

Frank. Till dooms-day: what unnecessary nothings
Are these about a wounded mind?

2 Phy. How do ye?

Fra. What questions they propound too! how do you, Sir?
I am glad to see you well.

3 Phy. A great distemper, it grows hotter still.

1 Phy. Open your mouth, I pray, Sir.

Frank. And can you tell me
How old I am then? there's my hand, pray shew me
How many broken shins within this two year.
Who would be thus in fetters, good master Doctor,
And you dear Doctor, and the third sweet Doctor,
And precious master Apothecary, I do pray ye
To give me leave to live a little longer,
Ye stand before me like my Blacks.

2 Phy. 'Tis dangerous,
For now his fancy turns too.

Enter Cellide.

Cell. By your leave Gentlemen:
And pray ye your leave a while too, I have something
Of secret to impart unto the Patient.

1. With all our hearts.

3. I mary such a Physick
May chance to find the humour: be not long Lady,
For we must minister within this half hour. [Ex. Phys.

Cell. You shall not stay for me.

Fra. Would you were all rotten
That ye might only intend one anothers itches:
Or would the Gentlemen with one consent
Would drink small Beer but seven years, and abolish
That wild fire of the blood, unsatiate wenching,
That your two Indies, springs and falls might fail ye,
What torments these intruders into bodies.

Cell. How do you worthy Sir?

Fran. Bless me, what beams
Flew from these Angel eyes! O what a misery
What a most studied torment 'tis to me now
To be an honest man! dare ye sit by me?

Cell. Yes, and do more than that too: comfort ye,
I see ye have need.

Fran. You are a fair Physician:
You bring no bitterness gilt o're, to gull us,
No danger in your looks, yet there my death lyes.

Cell. I would be sorry, Sir, my charity
And my good wishes for your health should merit
So stubborn a construction: will it please ye
To taste a little of this Cordial

Enter Valentine.

For this I think must cure ye.

Fra. Of which Lady?
Sure she has found my grief: why do you blush so?

Cell. Do you not understand? of this, this Cordial.

Val. O my afflicted heart: she is gone for ever.

Fra. What heaven have ye brought me Lady?

Cell. Do not wonder:
For 'tis no impudence, nor want of honour
Makes me do this: but love to save your life, Sir,
Your life too excellent to lose in wishes,
Love, vertuous love.

Fra. A vertuous blessing crown ye,
O goodly sweet, can there be so much charity
So noble a compassion in that heart
That's fill'd up with anothers fair affections?
Can mercy drop from those eyes?
Can miracles be wrought upon a dead man,
When all the power ye have, and perfect object
Lyes in anothers light, and his deserves it?

Cell. Do not despair: nor do not think too boldly,
I dare abuse my promise, 'twas your friends
And so fast tyed, I thought no time could ruin:
But so much has your danger, and that spell
The powerful name of friend, prevail'd above him
To whom I ever owe obedience,
That here I am, by his command to cure ye,
Nay more for ever, by his full resignment,
And willingly I ratifie it.

Fra. Hold for Heaven sake,
Must my friends misery make me a triumph?
Bear I that noble name, to be a Traitor?
O vertuous goodness, keep thy self untainted:
You have no power to yield, nor he to render,
Nor I to take: I am resolv'd to die first.

Val. Ha! saist thou so? nay then thou shalt not perish.

Fra. And though I love ye above the light shines on me,
Beyond the wealth of Kingdoms, free content,
Sooner would snatch at such a blessing offer'd
Than at my pardon'd life by the law forfeited,
Yet, yet O noble Beauty, yet O Paradise
For you are all the wonder reveal'd of it,
Yet is a gratitude to be preserv'd,
A worthy gratitude to one most worthy
The name, and nobleness of friends.

Cell. Pray tell me
If I had never known that Gentleman,
Would not you willingly embrace my offer?

Fra. Do you make a doubt?

Cell. And can ye be unwilling
He being old and impotent? his aim too
Levell'd at you, for your good? not constrain'd,
But out of cure, and counsel? Alas consider,
Play but the Woman with me, and consider
As he himself does, and I now dare see it,
Truly consider, Sir, what misery.

Fra. For vertues sake take heed.

Cell. What loss of youth,
What everlasting banishment from that
Our years do only covet to arrive at,
Equal affections [texts blank] and shot together:
What living name can dead age leave behind him,
What art of memory but fruitless doating?

Fra. This cannot be.

Cell. To you unless ye apply it
With more and firmer faith, and so digest it,
I speak but of things possible, not done
Nor like to be, a Posset cures your sickness,
And yet I know ye grieve this; and howsoever
The worthiness of friend may make ye stagger,
Which is a fair thing in ye, yet my Patient,
My gentle Patient, I would fain say more
If you would understand.

Val. O cruel Woman.

Cell. Yet sure your sickness is not so forgetful,
Nor you so willing to be lost.

Fra. Pray stay there:
Me thinks you are not fair now; me thinks more,
That modest vertue, men delivered of you,
Shews but like shadow to me, thin, and fading.

Val. Excellent friend.

Fra. Ye have no share in goodness:
Ye are belyed; you are not Cellide,
The modest, immaculate: who are ye?
For I will know: what Devil, to do mischief
Unto my vertuous friend, hath shifted shapes
With that unblemished beauty?

Cell. Do not rave, Sir,
Nor let the violence of thoughts distract ye,
You shall enjoy me: I am yours: I pity,
By those fair eyes I do.

Fra. O double hearted!
O Woman, perfect Woman! what distraction
Was meant to mankind when thou was't made a Devil!
What an inviting Hell invented! tell me,
And if you yet remember what is goodness,
Tell me by that, and truth, can one so cherish'd
So sainted in the soul of him, whose service
Is almost turn'd to superstition,
Whose every day endeavours and desires
Offer themselves like Incense on your Altar,
Whose heart holds no intelligence, but holy
And most Religious with his love; whose life
(And let it ever be remembred Lady)
Is drawn out only for your ends.

Val. O miracle!

Fra. Whose all, and every part of man: pray make me
Like ready Pages wait upon your pleasures;
Whose breath is but your bubble. Can ye, dare ye,
Must ye cast off this man, though he were willing,
Though in a nobleness, so cross my danger
His friendship durst confirm it, without baseness,
Without the stain of honour? shall not people
Say liberally hereafter, there's the Lady
That lost her Father, friend, herself, her faith too,
To fawn upon a stranger, for ought you know
As faithless as yourself, in love as fruitless.

Val. Take her with all my heart, thou art so honest
That 'tis most necessary I be undone.
[With all my soul possess her.] [Exit Val.

Cell. Till this minute,
I scorn'd, and hated ye, and came to cozen ye:
Utter'd those things might draw a wonder on me,
To make ye mad.

Fra. Good Heaven, what is this Woman?

Cell. Nor did your danger, but in charity,
Move me a whit: nor you appear unto me
More than a common object; yet now truly,
Truly, and nobly I do love ye dearly,
And from this hour ye are the man I honour,
You are the man, the excellence, the honesty,
The only friend, and I am glad your sickness
Fell so most happily at this time on ye,
To make this truth the worlds.

Fra. Whither do you drive me?

Cell. Back to your honesty, make that good ever,
'Tis like a strong built Castle, seated high,
That draws on all ambitions, still repair it,
Still fortifie it: there are thousand foes
Besides the Tyrant Beauty, will assail it:
Look to your Centinels that watch it hourly,
Your eyes, let them not wander.

Fra. Is this serious?
Or does she play still with me?

Cell. Keep your ears,
The two main Ports that may betray ye, strongly
From light belief first, then from flattery,
Especially where Woman beats the parley:
The body of your strength, your noble heart
From ever yielding to dishonest ends,
Rig'd round about with vertue, that no breaches,
No subtil [mynes] may meet ye.

Fra. How like the Sun
Labouring in his Eclipse, dark, and prodigious,
She shew'd till now? when having won her way,
How full of wonder he breaks out again,
And sheds his vertuous beams: excellent Angel,
For no less can that heavenly mind proclaim thee,
Honour of all thy sex, let it be lawful,
And like a Pilgrim thus I kneel to beg it,
Not with prophane lips now, nor burnt affections,
But, reconcil'd to faith, with holy wishes,
To kiss that virgin hand.

Cel. Take your desire, Sir,
And in a nobler way, for I dare trust ye,
No other fruit my love must ever yield ye,
I fear no more: yet your most constant memory
(So much I am wedded to that worthiness)
Shall ever be my Friend, Companion, Husband.
Farewel, and fairly govern your affections,
Stand, and deceive me not: O noble young man,
I love thee with my soul, but dare not say it:
Once more farewel, and prosper. [Exit.

Fra. Goodness guide thee:
My wonder like to fearful shapes in dreams,
Has wakened me out of my fit of folly,
But not to shake it off: a spell dwells in me,
A hidden charm shot from this beauteous Woman,
That fate can ne'r avoid, nor Physick find,
And by her counsel strengthen'd: only this
Is all the help I have, I love fair vertue.
Well, something I must do, to be a friend,
Yet I am poor, and tardy: something for her too
Though I can never reach her excellence,
Yet but to give an offer at a greatness.

Enter Valentine, Thomas, Hylas, and Sam.

Val. Be not uncivil Tom, and take your pleasure.

Tho. Do you think I am mad? you'l give me leave
To try her fairly?

Val. Do your best.

Tho. Why there Boy,
But where's the sick man?

Hyl. Where are the Gentlewomen
That should attend him? there's the Patient.
Me thinks these Women—

Tho. Thou think'st nothing else.

Val. Go to him friend, and comfort him: I'le lead ye:
O my best joy, my worthiest friend, pray pardon me,
I am so over-joy'd I want expression:
I may live to be thankful: bid your friends welcome.

[Exit Val.

Tho. How do'st thou Frank? how do'st thou Boy? bear up man:
What, shrink i'th' sinews for a little sickness?
Deavolo morte.

Fra. I am o'th' mending hand.

Tho. How like a Flute thou speak'st: o'th' mending hand man?
Gogs bores, I am well, speak like a man of worship.

Fran. Thou art a mad companion: never staid Tom.

Tho. Let Rogues be staid that have no habitation,
A Gentleman may wander: sit thee down Frank,
And see what I have brought thee: come discover,
Open the Scene, and let the work appear.
A friend at need you Rogue is worth a million.

Fra. What hast thou there, a julip?

Hyl. He must not touch it,
'Tis present death.

Tho. Ye are an Ass, a twirepipe,
A Jeffery John bo peepe, thou mimister,
Thou mend a left-handed pack-saddle, out puppey,
My friend Frank, but a very foolish fellow:
Do'st thou see that Bottle? view it well.

Fran. I do Tom.

Tho. There be as many lives in't, as a Cat carries,
'Tis everlasting liquor.

Fran. What?

Tho. Old Sack, Boy,
Old reverend Sack, which for ought that I can read yet,
Was that Philosophers Stone the wise King Ptolomeus
Did all his wonders by.

Fran. I see no harm Tom,
Drink with a moderation.

Tho. Drink with suger,
Which I have ready here, and here a glass boy,
Take me without my tools.

Sam. Pray Sir be temperate,
You know your own state best.

Fra. Sir, I much thank ye,
And shall be careful: yet a glass or two
So fit I find my body, and that so needful.

Tho. Fill it, and leave your fooling: thou say'st true Frank.

Hyl. Where are these Women I say?

Tho. 'Tis most necessary,
Hang up your Julips and your Portugal Possets,
Your barley Broths, and sorrel Sops, they are mangy,
And breed the Scratches only: give me Sack:
I wonder where this Wench is though: have at thee.

Hyl. So long, and yet no bolting?

Fra. Do, I'le pledge thee.

Tho. Take it off thrice, and then cry heigh like a Huntsman
With a clear heart, and no more fits I warrant thee.
The only Cordial, Frank. [Phys. and Serv. within.

1 Phys. Are the things ready?
And is the Barber come?

Ser. An hour ago, Sir.

1 Phys. Bring out the Oyls then.

Fran. Now or never Gentlemen,
Do me a kindness and deliver me.

Tho. From whom boy?

Fra. From these things, that talk within there,
Physicians, Tom, Physicians, scowring-sticks,
They mean to read upon me.

Enter three Phys. Apoth. and Barber.

Hyl. Let 'em enter.

Tho. And be thou confident, we will deliver thee:
For look ye Doctor, say the Devil were sick now,
His horns saw'd off, and his head bound with a Biggin,
Sick of a Calenture, taken by a Surfeit
Of stinking souls at his Nephews, and S^t Dunstans,
What would you minister upon the sudden?
Your judgment short and sound.

1 Phy. A fools head.

Tho. No Sir,
It must be a Physicians for three causes,
The first because it is a bald-head likely,
Which will down easily without Applepap.

3 Phy. A main cause.

Tho. So it is, and well consider'd.
The second, for 'tis fill'd with broken Greek, Sir,
Which will so tumble in his stomach, Doctor,
And work upon the crudities, conceive me,
The fears, and the fiddle-strings within it,
That those damn'd souls must disembogue again.

Hyl. Or meeting with the stygian humour.

Tho. Right, Sir.

Hyl. Forc'd with a Cataplasm of Crackers.

Tho. Ever.

Hyl. Scowre all before him, like a Scavenger.

Tom. Satis fecisti domine, my last cause,
My last is, and not least, most learned Doctors,
Because in most Physicians heads (I mean those
That are most excellent, and old withal,
And angry, though a Patient say his prayers,
And Paracelsians that do trade with poisons,
We have it by tradition of great writers)
There is a kind of Toad-stone bred, whose vertue
The Doctor being dri'd.

1 Phy. We are abus'd sirs.

Hyl. I take it so, or shall be, for say the Belly-ake
Caus'd by an inundation of Pease-porridge,
Are we therefore to open the port Vein,
Or the port Esquiline?

Sam. A learned question:
Or grant the Diaphragma by a Rupture,
The sign being then in the head of Capricorn.

Tho. Meet with the passion Huperchondriaca,
And so cause a Carnosity in the Kidneyes.
Must not the brains, being butter'd with this humour—
Answer me that.

Sam. Most excellently argued.

2 Phy. The next fit you will have, my most fine Scholar,
Bedlam shall find a Salve for: fare ye well Sir,
We came to do you good, but these young Doctors
It seems have bor'd our Noses.

3 Phy. Drink hard Gentlemen,
And get unwholesome drabs: 'tis ten to one then
We shall hear further from ye, your note alter'd. [Exeunt.

Tho. And wilt thou be gone, saies one?

Hyl. And wilt thou be gone, saies t'other?

Tho. Then take the odd crown
To mend thy old Gown.

Sam. And we'l be gone all together.

Fra. My learned Tom.

Enter Servant.

Ser. Sir, the young Gentlewomen
Sent me to see what company ye had with ye,
They much desire to visit ye.

Fra. Pray ye thank 'em,
And tell 'em my most sickness is their absence:
Ye see my company.

Tho. Come hither Crab,
What Gentlewomen are these? my Mistris?

Ser. Yes Sir.

Hyl. And who else?

Ser. Mistress Alice.

Hyl. Oh!

Tho. Hark ye sirrah,
No word of my being here, unless she know it.

Ser. I do not think she does.

Tho. Take that, and mum then.

Ser. You have ty'd my tongue up. [Exit.

Tho. Sit you down good Francis,
And not a word of me till ye hear from me,
And as you find my humour, follow it:
You two come hither, and stand close, unseen Boys,
And do as I shall tutor ye.

Fran. What, new work?

Tho. Prethee no more but help me now.

Hyl. I would fain talk
With the Gentlewomen.

Tho. Talk with the Gentlewomen?
Of what forsooth? whose Maiden-head the last Mask
Suffer'd impression? or whose Clyster wrought best?
Take me as I shall tell thee.

Hyl. To what end?
What other end came we along?

Sam. Be rul'd though.

Tho. Your weasel face must needs be ferretting
About the Farthing-ale;
Do as I bid ye,
Or by this light—

Hyl. Come then.

Thom. Stand close and mark me.

Fran. All this forc'd foolery will never do it.

Enter Alice and Mary.

Ali. I hope we bring ye health, Sir: how is't with ye?

Ma. You look far better trust me, the fresh colour
Creeps now again into his cheeks.

Ali. Your enemy
I see has done his worst. Come, we must have ye
Lusty again, and frolick man; leave thinking.

Ma. Indeed it does ye harm, Sir.

Fran. My best visitants,
I shall be govern'd by ye.

Ali. You shall be well then,
And suddenly, and soundly well.

Ma. This Air, Sir,
Having now season'd ye, will keep ye ever.

Tho. No, no, I have no hope, nor is it fit friends,
My life has been so lewd, my loose condition,
Which I repent too late, so lamentable,
That any thing but curses light upon me,
Exorbitant in all my wayes.

Ali. Who's that, Sir,
Another sick man?

Ma. Sure I know that voice well.

Tho. In all my courses, careless disobedience.

Fran. What a strange fellow's this?

Tho. No counsel friends,
No look before I leapt.

Ali. Do you know the voyce, Sir?

Fra. Yes, 'tis a Gentlemans that's much afflicted
In's mind: great pity Ladies.

Ali. Now heaven help him.

Fra. He came to me, to ask free pardon of me,
For some things done long since, which his distemper
Made to appear like wrong, but 'twas not so.

Ma. O that this could be truth.

Hyl. Perswade your self.

Tho. To what end Gentlemen, when all is perish'd
Upon a wrack, is there a hope remaining?
The Sea, that ne'r knew sorrow, may be pitiful,
My credit's split, and sunk, nor is it possible,
Were my life lengthened out as long as—

Ma. I like this well.

Sam. Your mind is too mistrustful.

Tho. I have a vertuous Sister, but I scorn'd her,
A Mistris too, a noble Gentlewoman,
For goodness all out-going.

Alice. Now I know him.

Tho. With these eyes friends, my eyes must never see more.

Alice. This is for your sake Mary: take heed Cousin,
A man is not so soon made.

Tho. O my fortune!
But it is just, I be despis'd and hated.

Hyl. Despair not, 'tis not manly: one hours goodness
Strikes off an infinite of ills.

Alice. Weep truly
And with compassion, Cousin.

Fra. How exactly
This cunning young Thief playes his part!

Ma. Well Tom,
My Tom again, if this be truth.

Hyl. She weeps Boy.

Tho. O I shall die.

Ma. Now Heaven defend.

Sam. Thou hast her.

Tho. Come lead me to my Friend to take his farewel,
And then what fortune shall befal me, welcome,
How does it show?

Hyl. O rarely well.

Ma. Say you so, Sir.

Fra. O ye grand Ass.

Ma. And are ye there my Juggler?
Away we are abus'd, Alice.

Alice. Fool be with thee. [Ex. Mary and Alice.

Tho. Where is she?

Fra. Gone; she found you out, and finely,
In your own noose she halter'd ye: you must be whispering
To know how things shew'd: not content to fare well
But you must roar out roast-meat; till that suspicion
You carried it most neatly, she believed too
And wept most tenderly; had you continu'd,
Without doubt you had brought her off.

Tho. This was thy Roguing,
For thou wert ever whispering: fye upon thee
Now could I break thy head.

Hyl. You spoke to me first.

Tho. Do not anger me,
For by this hand I'le beat the buzard blind then.
She shall not scape me thus: farewel for this time.

Fra. Good night, 'tis almost bed time: yet no sleep
Must enter these [eyes], till I work a wonder. [Exit.

Tho. Thou shalt along too, for I mean to plague thee
For this nights sins, I will never leave walking of thee
Till I have worn thee out.

Hyl. Your will be done, Sir.

Tho. You will not leave me, Sam.

Sam. Not I.

Tho. Away then: I'le be your guide now, if my man be trusty,
My spightful Dame, I'le pipe ye such a hun[t]sup
Shall make ye dance a tipvaes: keep close to me. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Enter Sebastian, and Dorothy.

Seb. Never perswade me, I will marry again,
What should I leave my state to, Pins and Poaking-sticks,
To Farthingals, and frownces? to fore-horses
And an old Leather Bawdy house behind 'em,
To thee?

Dor. You have a Son, Sir.

Seb. Where, what is he?
Who is he like?

Dor. Your self.

Seb. Thou lyest, thou hast marr'd him,
Thou, and thy prayer books: I do disclaim him:
Did not I take him singing yesternight
A godly Ballad, to a godly tune too,
And had a Catechism in's pocket, Damsel,
One of your dear disciples, I perceive it?
When did he ride abroad since he came over?
What Tavern has he us'd to? what things done
That shews a man, and mettle? when was my house
At such a shame before, to creep to bed
At ten a clock, and twelve, for want of company?
No singing, nor no dancing, nor no drinking?
Thou think'st not of these scandals; when, and where
Has he but shew'd his sword of late?

Dor. Despair not
I do beseech you, Sir, nor tempt your weakness,
For if you like it so, I can assure you
He is the same man still.

Seb. Would thou wert ashes
On that condition; but believe it Gossip
You shall know you have wrong'd.

Dor. You never, Sir,
So well I know my duty: and for Heaven sake,
Take but this counsel with ye ere you marry,
You were wont to hear me: take him, and confess him,
Search him to the quick, and if you find him false,
Do as you please; a Mothers name I honour.

Seb. He is lost, and spoil'd, I am resolv'd my roof
Shall never harbour him: and for you Minion
I'le keep you close enough, lest you break loose,
And do more mischief; get ye in: who waits? [Exit Dor.

Enter Servant.

Ser. Do you call, Sir?

Seb. Seek the Boy: and bid him wait
My pleasure in the morning: mark what house
He is in, and what he does: and truly tell me.

Ser. I will not fail, Sir.

Seb. If ye do, I'le hang ye. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.

Enter Thomas, Hylas, and Sam.

Tho. Keep you the back door there, and be sure
None of her servants enter, or go out,
If any Woman pass, she is lawful prize, Boys,
Cut off all convoyes.

Hyl. Who shall answer this?

Tho. Why, I shall answer it, you fearful widgeon,
I shall appear to th' action.

Hyl. May we discourse too,
On honourable terms?

Tho. With any Gentlewoman
That shall appear at window: ye may rehearse too
By your commission safely, some sweet parcels
Of Poetry to a Chamber-maid.

Hyl. May we sing too?
For there's my master-piece.

Tho. By no means, no Boys,
I am the man reserv'd for Air, 'tis my part,
And if she be not rock, my voyce shall reach her:
Ye may record a little, or ye may whistle,
As time shall minister, but for main singing,
Pray ye satisfie your selves: away, be careful.

Hyl. But hark ye, one word Tom, we may be beaten.

Tho. That's as ye think good your selves: if you deserve it,
Why 'tis the easiest thing to compass: beaten?
What Bugbears dwell in thy brains? who should beat thee?

Hyl. She has men enough.

Tho. Art not thou man enough too?
Thou hast flesh enough about thee: if all that mass
Will not maintain a little spirit, hang it,
And dry it too for dogs-meat: get you gone;
I have things of moment in my mind: that door,
Keep it as thou would'st keep thy Wife from a Servingman.
No more I say: away, Sam.

Sam. At your will, Sir. [Exeunt Hylas and Sam.

Enter Launcelot, and Fidler.

Beaumont and Fletcher's Works, Vol. 04 of 10

About This Book

Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.

SCENE II.

SCENE III.