Beaumont and Fletcher's Works, Vol. 05 of 10

Jul. What a fright I have put 'em in; what a brave hurry.
If this do bolt him, I'le be with him again
With a new part, was never play'd; I'le ferk him.
As he hunts her, so I'le hunt him: I'le claw him.
Now will I see if I can cross her footing:
Yet still I'le watch his water, he shall pay for't;
And when he thinks most malice, and means worse,
I'le make him know the Mare's the better Horse. [Exit.

SCENE V.

Enter Pedro, and a Gentleman.

Gent. Ye are a stranger, Sir, and for humanity,
Being come within our walls, I would shew you something.
Ye have seen the Castle?

Ped. Yes Sir, 'tis a strong one,
And well maintain'd.

Gent. Why are you still thus sad, Sir?
How do ye like the walks?

Ped. They are very pleasant;
Your Town stands cool and sweet.

Gent. But that I would not
Affect you with more sadness, I could shew ye
A place worth view.

Ped. Shows seldom alter me, Sir;
Pray ye speak it, and then shew it.

Gent. 'Tis a house here
Where people of all sorts, that have been visited
With Lunacies, and Follies wait their cures,
There's fancies of a thousand stamps and fashions,
Like flies in several shapes buz round about ye,
And twice as many gestures; some of pity,
That it would make ye melt to see their passions:
And some as light again, that would content ye.
But I see, Sir, your temper is too modest,
Too much inclin'd to contemplation,
To meet with these?

Ped. You could not please me better;
And I beseech you, Sir, do me the honour
To let me wait upon ye.

Gent. Since ye are willing,
To me it shall be a pleasure to conduct ye.

Ped. I never had such a mind yet to see misery. [Exe.

SCENE VI.

Enter two Keepers.

1 Keep. Carry mad Bess some meat, she roars like Thunder;
And tie the Parson short, the Moon's i'th' full,
H'as a thousand Pigs in's brains: Who looks to the Prentice?
Keep him from Women, he thinks h'as lost his Mistris;
And talk of no silk stuffs, 'twill run him horn mad.

2 Keep. The Justice keeps such a stir yonder with his Charges,
And such a coil with warrants.

1 Keep. Take away his Statutes;
The Devil has possest him in the likeness
Of penal Laws: keep him from Aqua vitæ,
For if that spirit creep into his Quorum,
He will commit us all: how is it with the Scholar?

2 Keep. For any thing I see, he's in his right wits.

1 Keep. Thou art an ass; in's right wits, goodman coxcomb?
As though any man durst be in's right wits, and be here.
It is as much as we dare be that keep 'em.

Enter English madman.

Engl. Give me some drink.

1 Keep. O, there's the English man.

Engl. Fill me a thousand pots, and froth 'em, froth 'em.
Down o' your knees, ye Rogues, and pledge me roundly;
One, two, three, and four; we shall all be merry within this hour.
To the great Turk.

1 Keep. Peace, peace thou Heathen drunkard;
These English are so Malt-mad, there's no medling with 'em;
When they have a fruitful year of Barly there,
All the whole Island's thus.

Engl. A snuff, a snuff, a snuff.
A lewd notorious snuff: give't him again, boy.

Enter she-fool.

Fool. God-ye-good even, Gaffer.

2 Keep. Who let the Fool loose?

1 Keep. If any of the mad-men take her, she is pepper'd,
They'll bounce her loins.

Fool. Will ye walk into the coal house?

1 Keep. She is as leacherous too as a she-Ferret.

2 Keep. Who a vengeance looks to her? go in Kate,
I'le give thee a fine Apple.

Fool. Will ye buss me?
And tickle me, and make me laugh?

1 Keep. I'le whip ye.

Engl. Fool, fool, come up to me fool.

Fool. Are ye peeping?

Engl. I'le get thee with five fools.

Fool. O fine, O dainty.

Engl. And thou shalt lie in [in] a horse-cloth, like a Lady.

Fool. And shall I have a Coach?

Engl. Drawn with four Turkeys,
And they shall tread thee too.

Fool. We shall have eggs then;
And shall I sit upon 'em?

Engl. I, I, and they shall be all addle,
And make an admirable Tanzey for the Devil.
Come, come away, I am taken with thy love fool,
And will mightily belabour thee.

1 Keep. How the fool bridles! how she twitters at him!
These English men would stagger a wise woman.
If we should suffer her to have her will now,
We should have all the women in Spain as mad as she here.

2 Keep. They would strive who should be most fool:
Away with her.

Enter Master, three Gentlemen, a mad Scholar, and Pedro.

Fool. Pray ye stay a little: let's hear him sing, h'as a fine breast.

1 Keep. Here comes my Master; to the spit ye whore,
And stir no more abroad, but tend your business;
You shall have no more sops i'th' pan else, nor no Porridge:
Besides, I'le whip your breech.

Fool. I'le go in presently.

1 Gent. I'le assure ye, Sir, the Cardinal's angry with ye
For keeping this young man.

Mast. I am heartily sorry.
If ye allow him sound, pray ye take him with ye.

1 Gent. This is the place, and now observe their humours.

2 Gent. We can find nothing in him light, nor tainted;
No startings, nor no rubs, in all his answers,
In all his Letters nothing but discretion,
Learning, and handsome stile.

Mast. Be not deceived, Sir,
Mark but his look.

1 Gent. His grief, and his imprisonment
May stamp that there.

Mast. Pray talk with him again then.

2 Gent. That will be needless, we have tried him long enough,
And if he had a taint we should have met with't.
Yet to discharge your care—

Ped. A sober youth:
Pity so heavy a cross should light upon him.

2 Gent. You find no sickness?

Schol. None Sir, I thank Heaven,
Nor nothing that diverts my understanding.

1 Gent. Do you sleep a nights?

Schol. As sound, and sweet, as any man.

2 Gent. Have ye no fearful dreams?

Schol. Sometimes, as all have
That go to bed with raw and windy stomachs;
Else I am all one piece.

1 Gent. Is there no unkindness
You have conceiv'd from any friend or parent?
Or scorn from what ye lov'd?

Schol. No, truely Sir:
I never yet was master of a faith
So poor, and weak, to doubt my friend or kindred,
And what love is, unless it lie in learning
I think I am ignorant.

1 Gent. This man is perfect,
A civiller discourser I ne'r talk'd with.

Mast. You'l find it otherwise.

2 Gent. I must tell ye true, Sir,
I think ye keep him here to teach him madness.
Here's his discharge from my Lord Cardinal;
And come Sir, go with us.

Schol. I am bound unto ye,
And farewel Master.

Master. Farewel Stephano,
Alas poor man.

1 Gent. What flaws, and whirles of weather,
Or rather storms have been aloft these three daies;
How dark, and hot, and full of mutiny!
And still grows louder.

Mast. It has been stubborn weather.

2 Gent. Strange work at Sea, I fear me there's old tumbling.

1 Gent. Bless my old Unkles Bark, I have a venture.

2 Gent. And I more than I would wish to lose.

Schol. Do you fear?

2 Gent. Ha! how he looks!

Mast. Nay, mark him better Gentlemen.

2 Gent. Mercy upon me: how his eyes are altered!

Mast. Now tell me how ye like him: whether now
He be that perfect man ye credited?

Schol. Do's the Sea stagger ye?

Mast. Now ye have hit the nick.

Schol. Do ye fear the billows?

1 Gent. What ails him? who has stir'd him?

Schol. Be not shaken,
Nor let the singing of the storm shoot through ye,
Let it blow on, blow on: let the clouds wrastle,
And let the vapours of the earth turn mutinous,
The Sea in hideous mountains rise and tumble
Upon a Dolphins back, I'le make all tremble,
For I am Neptune.

Mast. Now what think ye of him?

2 Gent. Alas poor man.

Schol. Your Bark shall plough through all,
And not a Surge so saucy to disturb her.
I'le see her safe, my power shall sail before her.

Down ye angry waters all,
Ye loud whistling whirlewinds fall;
Down ye proud Waves, ye storms cease;
I command ye, be at peace.
Fright not with your churlish Notes,
Nor bruise the Keel of Bark that flotes:
No devouring Fish come nigh,
Nor Monster in my Empery,
Once shew his head, or terror bring;
But let the weary Saylor sing:
Amphitrite with white arms
Strike my Lute, I'le sing Charms.

Mast. He must have Musick now: I must observe him,
His fit will grow too full else. [Musick, Song.

2 Gent. I must pity him.

Mast. Now he will in himself most quietly,
And clean forget all, as he had done nothing.

1 Gent. We are sorry, Sir: and we have seen a wonder;
From this hour we'll believe, and so we'll leave ye. [Ex.

Ped. This was a strange fit.

Mast. Did ye mark him, Sir?

Ped. He might have cozen'd me with his behaviour.

Mast. Many have sworn him right, and I have thought so:
Yet on a sudden, from some word, or other,
When no man could expect a fit, he has flown out:
I dare not give him will.

Enter Alinda.

Ped. Pray Heaven recover him.

Alin. Must I come in too?

Mast. No, my pretty Lad;
Keep in thy Chamber Boy; 'shalt have thy supper.

Ped. I pray ye what is he, Sir?

Mast. A strange Boy, that last night
Was found i'th' Town, a little craz'd, distracted,
And so sent hither.

Ped. How the pretty Knave looks,
And plays, and peeps upon me! sure such eyes
I have seen, and lov'd: what fair hands! certainly—

Mast. Good Sir, you'l make him worse.

Ped. I pray believe not.
Alas, why sho[u]ld I hurt him? how he smiles!
The very shape, and sweetness of Alinda:
Let me look once again: were it in such clothes
As when I saw her last; this must be she.
How tenderly it stroaks me!

Mast. Pray ye be mild Sir;
I must attend elsewhere. [Exit.

Ped. Pray ye be secure Sir,
What would ye say? how my heart beats and trembles!
He holds me hard by th' hand; O my life, her flesh too!
I know not what to think: her tears, her true ones;
Pure orient tears: Hark, do you know me little one?

Alin. O Pedro Pedro!

Ped. O my soul!

Gent. What fit's this?
The Pilgrim's off the hooks too.

Alin. Let me hold thee,
And now come all the world, and all that hate me.

Ped. Be wise, and not discovered: O how I love ye!
How do ye now?

Alin. I have been miserable;
But your most vertuous eyes have cur'd me, Pedro:
Pray ye think it no immodesty, I kiss ye,
My head's wild still.

Ped. Be not so full of passion,
Nor do not hang so greedily upon me;
'Twill be ill taken.

Alin. Are ye weary of me?
I will hang here eternally, kiss ever,
And weep away for joy.

Enter Master.

Master. I told ye Sir,
What ye would do: for shame do not afflict him;
You have drawn his fit upon him fearfully:
Either depart, and presently; I'le force ye else.
Who waits within?

Enter two Keepers to fetch 'em off.

Ped. Alas good Sir.
This is the way never to hope recovery.

Mast. Stay but one minute more, I'le complain to the Governour,
Bring in the boy: do you see how he swells, and tears himself?
Is this your cure? Be gone; if the boy miscarry
Let me ne'r find you more, for I'le so hamper ye—

Gent. You were to blame: too rash.

Ped. Farewel for ever. [Exeunt.

Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.

Enter Alphonso, Gent. Juletta.

Gent. You are now within a mile o'th' Town Sir: if my business
Would give me leave, I would turn and wait upon ye;
But for such Gentlemen as you enquire of,
Certain, I saw none such: But for the boy ye spoke of,
I will not say 'tis he, but such a one;
Just of that height.

Alph. In such clothes?

Gent. I much mistake else,
Was sent in th' other night, a little maddish,
And where such people wait their cures—

Alph. I understand ye.

Gent. There you may quickly know.

Alph. I thank ye Sir.

Jul. So do I too: and if there be such a place,
I ask no more: but you shall hear more of me,
She may be there, and you may play the tyrant;
I'le see what I can do: I am almost foundred
In following him; and yet I'le never leave him,
I'le crawl of all four first; my cause is meritorious,
And come what can come.

Gent. All you have told me is certain;
Complexion, and all else.

Alph. It may be she then;
And I'le so fumble her: is she grown mad now?
Is her blood set so high? I'le have her madded,
I'le have her worm'd.

Jul. Mark but the end, old Master,
If thou beest not sick o'th' Bots within these five hours,
And kickst and roar'st; I'le make ye fart fire, Signior.

Enter Alinda, as a fool.

Gent. Here's one o'th' house, a fool, an idiot Sir;
May be she is going home; she'l be a guide to ye:
And so I kiss your hand. [Exit.

Alph. I am your servant.

Alin. O now I am lost, lost, lost, Lord, how I tremble!
My Father, arm'd in all his hates and angers;
This is more misery than I have scap'd yet.

Alph. Fool, fool.

Alin. He knows me not; will ye give me two pence?
And gaffer, here's a Crow-flower, and a Dazie;
I have some pie in my pocket too.

Alph. This is an arrant fool,
An ignorant thing.

Alin. Believe so, and I am happy.

Alph. Dost thou dwell in Sigovia, fool?

Alin. No no, I dwell in Heaven.
And I have a fine little house, made of Marmalad.
And I am a lone woman, and I spin for Saint Peter;
I have a hundred little children, and they sing Psalms with me.

Alp. 'Tis pity this pretty thing should want understanding.
But why do I stand talking with a coxcombe?
If I do find her, if I light upon her,
I'le say no more. Is this the way to th' Town, fool?

Alin. You must go over the top of that high steeple, Gaffer.

Alp. A plague o' your fools face.

Jul. No, take her counsel.

Alin. And then you shall come to a River twenty mile over,
And twenty mile and ten: and then you must pray, Gaffer;
And still you must pray, and pray.

Alp. Pray Heaven deliver me
From such an ass, as thou art.

Alin. Amen, sweet Gaffer.
And fling a sop of Suger-cake into it;
And then you must leap in naked.

Jul. Would he would believe her.

Alin. And sink seven daies together; can ye sink gaffer?

Alp. Yes coxcomb, yes; prethee farewel: a pox on thee.
A plague o' that fool too, that set me upon thee.

Alin. And then I'le bring you a sup of Milk shall serve ye:
I am going to get Apples.

Alp. Go to th' Devil:
Was ever man tormented with a puppy thus?
Thou tell me news? thou be a guide?

Alin. And then Nunkle—

Alph. Prethee keep on thy way (good Naunt) I could rail now
These ten hours at mine own improvidence:
Get Apples, and be choak'd: farewel. [Exit.

Alin. Farewel Nunkle.

Jul. I rejoyce in any thing that vexes him;
I shall love this fool extreamly for't:
Could I but see my Mistris now, to tell her
How I have truly, honestly wrought for her,
How I have worn my self away, to serve her.
Fool, there's a Royal for the sport thou mad'st me,
In crossing that old fool, that parted from thee.

Alin. Thou art honest sure; but yet thou must not see me:
I thank ye little Gentleman: Heaven bless ye
And I'le pray for ye too: pray ye keep this Nutmeg.
'Twas sent me from the Lady of the Mountain,
A golden Lady.

Jul. How prettily it prattles!

Alin. 'Tis very good to rub your understanding:
And so good night, the Moon's up.

Jul. Pretty innocent.

Alin. Now fortune, if thou darst do good, protect me. [Exit.

Jul. I'll follow him to yond' Town; he shall not 'scape me.
Stay, I must counterfeit a Letter by the way first,
And one that must carry some credit with it; I am wide else,
And all this to no purpose that I aim at.
A Letter must be had, and neatly handled;
And then, if Goodwife Fortune do not fail me,
Have at his Skirts; I shall worse anger him
Than ever I have done, and worse torment him.
It does me good to think how I shall conjure him,
And crucifie his crabbedness; he's my Master,
But that's all one; I'll lay that on the left hand,
He would now persecute my harmless Mistriss,
A fault without forgiveness, as I take it;
And under that bold Banner flies my vengeance,
A meritorious War, and so I'll make it.
I'th' name of innocence, what's this the fool gave me?
She said 'twas good to rub my understanding.
What strange Concealment! Bread or Cheese, or a Chesnut?
Ha! 'tis a Ring, a pretty Ring, a right one;
A Ring I know too! the very same Ring;
O admirable Blockhead! O base Eyes!
A Ring my Mistriss took from me and wore it;
I know it by the Posie: [Prick me, and heale me.]
None could deliver this, but she her self too;
Am I twice sand-blind? twice so near the Blessing
I would arrive at? and block-like never know it?
I am veng'ance angry, but that shall light on thee,
And heavily, and quickly, I pronounce it;
There are so many cross ways, there's no following her;
And yet I must not now; I hope she is right still,
For all her outward shew, for sure she knew me;
And in that hope, some few hours I'll forget her. [Exit.

SCENE II.

Enter Roderigo.

Rod. She is not to be recovered, which I vex at;
And he beyond my veng'ance, which torments me;
O! I am fool'd and sleighted, made a Rascal;
My hopes are flatter'd, as my present fortunes;
Why should I wander thus, and play the Coxcomb?
Tire out my peace and pleasure for a Girl?
A Girl that scorns me too? a thing that hates me?
And considered at the best, is but a short Breakfast
For a hot appetite: why should I walk and walk thus?
And fret my self, and travel like a Carrier,
And peep, and watch? want Meat, and Wine, to cherish me,
When thousand women may be had, ten thousand,
And thank me too, and I sit still: well, trim Beauty
And Chastity, and all that seem to ruine me,
Let me not take ye, let me not come near ye,
For I'll so trim ye, I'll so bustle with ye;
'Tis not the name of Virgin shall redeem ye,
I'll change that property: nor tears, nor angers;
I bear a hate about me scorns those follies.
To find this Villain too, for there's my main prize:
And if he snap me then.

Enter Alinda.

Alind. Is not that Pedro?
'Tis he, 'tis he: O!

Rod. What art thou?

Alind. Ha? now, now, now,
O now most miserable.

Rod. What a Devil art thou?

Alin. No end of my misfortunes, Heaven?

Rod. What antick?
Speak Puppet, speak.

Alind. That habit to betray me?
Ye holy Saints, can ye see this?

Rod. It danceth;
The Devil in a Fools Coat, is he turn'd Innocent?
What mops and mows it makes! heigh! how it frisketh!
Is't not a Fairy, or some small Hobgoblin?
It has a mortal face, and I have a great mind to it,
But if it should prove the Devil then.

Alin. Come hither.

Rod. I think 'twill ravish me,
It is a handsome thing, but horribly Sun-burnt,
What's that it points at?

Alin. Dost thou see that star there,
That just above the Sun?
Prithee go thither, and light me this Tobacco,
And stop it with the horns o'th' Moon.

Rod. The thing's mad,
Abominably mad, her brains are butter'd,
Go sleep, fool, sleep.

Alin. Thou canst not sleep so sweetly;
For so I can say my Prayers, and then slumber.

I am not proud, nor full of Wine,
This little Flower will make me fine;
Cruel in Heart, for I will cry,
If I see a Sparrow dye;
I am not watchful to do ill,
Nor glorious to pursue it still;
Nor pitiless to those that weep;
Such as are, bid them go sleep.

Do, do, do, and see if they can.

Rod. It said true.
I feel it sink into me forcibly:
Sure 'tis a kind of Sibyl, some mad Prophet;
I feel my wildness bound, and fetter'd in me.

Alin. Give me your hand, and I'll tell you what's your fortune.

Rod. Here, prithee speak.

Alin. Fye, fye, fye, fye, fye.
Wash your hands, and pare your nails, and look finely,
You shall never kiss the Kings Daughter else.

Rod. I wash 'em daily.

Alin. But still you foul 'em faster.

Rod. This goes nearer.

Alin. You'll have two Wives.

Rod. Two Wives?

Alin. I, two fine Gentlewomen,
Make much of 'em; for they'll stick close to you, Sir:
And these two, in two days.

Rod. That's a fine Riddle.

Alin. To day you shall wed sorrow,
And repentance will come to morrow.

Rod. Sure she's inspired.

Alin. I'll sing ye a fine Song, Sir,

He called down his merry men all,
By one, by two, by three,
William would fain have been the first,
But now the last is he.

Rod. This the meer Chronicle of my mishaps.

Alin. I'll bid you good ev'n, for my Boat stays for me yonder,
And I must sup with the Moon to Night in the Mediterraneum. [Exit.

Rod. When fools and mad folks will be Tutors to me,
And feel my sores, yet I unsensible;
Sure it was set by Providence upon me
To steer my heart right, I am wondrous weary,
My thoughts too, which add more burthen to me;
I have been ill, and (which is worse) pursu'd it,
And still run on; I must think better, nobler,
And be another thing, or not at all.

Enter four Pesants.

Still I grow heavier, heavier, Heaven defend me;
I'll lye down, and take rest; and goodness guard me.

1 Pes. We have 'scaped to day well; certain if the Out-laws
Had known we had been stirring, we had paid for't.

2 Pes. 'Plague on 'em, they have rob'd me thrice.

3 Pes. And me five times:

Beside they made my Daughter one of us too
An arrant Drum: O, they are the lewdest Rascals,
The Captain such a damn'd piece of iniquitie:
But we are far enough off on 'em, that's the best on't,
They cannot hear.

4. They'le come to me familiarly
And eat up all I have: drink up my wine too,
And if there be a Servant that contents 'em,
Let her keel hold, they'l give her Stowage enough:
We have no Children now, but Thieves, and Outlaws.
The very Brats in their Mothers bellies have their qualities.
They'l steal into the world.

1. Would we had some of 'em here.

2. I, o' that condition we could Master 'em,
They are sturdy knaves.

3. A Devil take their sturdiness,
We can neither keep our wives from 'em nor our States,
We pay the Rent, and they possess the benefit.

1. What's this lies here? is it drunk, or sober?
It sleeps, and soundly too.

2. 'Tis an old woman
That keeps sheep hereabouts: it turns, and stretches.

4. Do's she keep sheep with a sword?

3. It has a Beard too.

1. Peace, peace: it is the Devil Roderigo,
Peace of all hands, and look.

2. 'Tis he.

3. Speak softly.

4. Now we may fit him.

3. Stay, stay: let's be provident.

1. Kill him, and wake him then.

4. Let me come to him,
Ev'n one blow at his pate, if e're he wake more.

3. So, so, so, lay that by.

2. I must needs kill him,
It stands with my reputation.

3. Stand off, I say:
And let us some way make him sure; then torture him.
To kill him presently, has no pleasure in't.
H'as been tormenting of us, at least this twelve moneth.

Rod. Oh me!

All. He comes: he comes.

4. Has he no Guns about him?

3. Softly again: no, no: take that hand easily,
And tye it fast there: that to th' other bough there.
Fast, fast, and easie lest he wake.

2. Have we got ye?
This was a benefit we never aim'd at.

3. Out with your knives, and let's carve this Cockthief,
Daintily carve him.

2. I would he had been used thus
Ten year agoe; we might have thought we had children.

3. O, that Sir Nicholas now our Priest were here,
What a sweet Homily would he say over him,
For ringing all in, with his wife in the Bell-frey!
He would stand up stiffe girt, now pounce him lightly
And as he roars, and rages, let's go deeper:
Come near: you are dim-ey'd: on with your spectacles.

Rod. O, what torments me thus? what slaves, what villains?
O spare me, do not murther me.

3. We'l but tickle ye,
You have tickled us at all points.

4. Where are his Emblemes?

Enter Pedro.