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

Rod. How sweet these solitary places are! how wantonly
The wind blows through the leaves, and courts, and playes with 'em!
Will ye sit down, and sleep? the heat invites ye.
Hark how yond purling stream dances, and murmurs,
The Birds sing softly too: pray take some rest, Sir.
I would fain wooe his fancie to a peace,
It labours high and hastily upon him;
Pray ye sit, and I'le sit by.

Ped. I cannot sleep friend,
I have those watches here admit no slumbers,
Saw ye none yet?

Rod. No creature.

Ped. What strange Musick
Was that we heard afar off?

Rod. I cannot guess;
'Twas loud, and shrill: sometimes it shew'd hard by us,
And by and by the sound fled as the wind does;
Here's no inhabitants.

Ped. It much delighted me.

Rod. They talk of Fairies, and such demi-devils,
This is a fine place to dance their gambols.—

Ped. Me thought I heard a voyce. [Musick and Birds.

Rod. They can sing admirably,
They never lose their maiden-heads: I would fool any way
To make him merry now: methink yond rocks yonder
Shew like inchanted Cells, where they inhabit.

[Musick afar off. Pot Birds.

Ped. 'Tis here again, hark gentle Roderigo,
Hark, hark: O sweet, sweet, how the Birds record too!
Mark how it flies now every way. O love,
In such a harmony art thou begotten,
In such soft air, so gentle, lull'd and nourish'd,
O my best Mistris!

Rod. How he weeps! dear Heaven
Give him his hearts content, and me forgive too.
I must melt too.

Ped. The Birds sing louder, sweeter,
And every note they emulate one another.
Lie still and hear: These when they have done their labours,

Enter Alinda, and Juletta, like old Women.

Their pretty airs, fall to their rests, enjoy 'em.
Nothing rocks Love asleep, but death.

Rod. Who are these?

Ped. What.

Rod. Those there, those, those things that come upon us,
Those grandam things, those strange antiquities.
Did not I say these woods begot strange wonders?

Jul. Now ye may view 'em.

Alin. Ha?

Jul. The men ye long'd for,
Here they are both: now ye may boldly talk with 'em,
And never be ghess'd at: be not afraid, nor faint not;
They wonder at us; let's maintain that wonder;
Shake not, but what ye purpose do discreetly,
And from your tongue I'le take my part.

Alin. Ha?

Jul. There: before ye, there, do not turn coward Mistress,
If ye do love, carry your Love out handsomely.

Alin. 'Tis he and Roderigo; what a peace
Dwells in their faces, what a friendly calm
Crowns both their souls!

Rod. They show as if they were mortal,
They come upon us still.

Ped. Be not afraid, Man,
Let 'em be what they will, they cannot hurt us.

Rod. That thing i'th' Button'd-cap looks terribly.
She has Guns in her eyes, the Devils Ingeneer.

Ped. Come, stand, and let's go meet 'em.

Rod. Go you first.
I have less faith: when I have said my Prayers—

Ped. There needs no fear, hale reverend dames.

Alin. Good even.
What do ye seek?

Ped. We would seek happier fortunes.

Rod. That little devil has main need of a Barber,
What a trim beard she has!

Alin. Seek 'em, and make 'em,
Lie not still, nor longer here,
Here inhabits nought but fear,
Be constant good, in faith be clear,
Fortune will wait ye every where.

Ped. Whither should we go? for we believe thy reverence,
And next obey.

Alin. Go to Segovia,
And there before the Altar pay thy vowes,
Thy gifts, and prayers: unload thy heaviness,
To morrow shed thy tears, and gain thy suit,
Such honest noble showrs, ne're wanted fruit.

Jul. Stand you out too.

Rod. I shall be hang'd, or whipt now:
These know, and these have power.

Jul. See how he shakes.
A secure conscience never quakes,
Thou hast been ill; be so no more,
A good retreat is a great store.
Thou hast commanded men of might,
Command thy self, and then thou art right.

Alin. Command thy will: thy foul desires.
Put out and quench thy unhallowed fires:
Command thy mind, and make that pure;
Thou art wise then, valiant, and secure.
A blessing then thou maist beget.

Jul. A curse else that shall never set
Will light upon thee: Say thy Prayers,
Thou hast as many sins, as hairs.
Thou art a Captain, let thy men
Be honest, and good thoughts, and then
Thou maist command, and lead in chief,
Yet thou art bloody, and a thief.

Rod. What shall I do? I do confess.

Alin. Retire,
And purge thee perfect in his fire:
His life observe; live in his School,
And then thou shalt put off the fool.

Jul. Pray at Segovia too, and give
Thy Offrings up, repent, and live. [Musick within.

Alin. Away, away: enquire no more,
Do this, ye are rich, else fools, and poor;
What musick's this?

Jul. Retire? 'tis some neat Joy,
In honour of the Kings great day: they wonder,
This comes in right to confirm their reverence.
Away, away, let them admire, it makes
For our advantage: how the Captain shakes! [Exit.

Ped. This was the Musick.

Rod. Yes, yes, how I sweat!
I was never so deserted; sure these woods
Are only inhabited with rare dreams, and wonders;
I would not be a knave again, a villain:
O how I loath it now: for these know all Sir,
And they would find me out.

Ped. They are excellent women,
Deep in their knowledge, friend.

Rod. I would not be traytor,
And have these of my Jury; how light I am,
And how my heart laughs now me thinks within me!
Now I am Catechiz'd, I would ever dwell here,
For here is a kind of Court of Reformation;
Had I been stubborn friend.

Ped. They would have found it.

Rod. And then they would have handled me a new way,
The Devils dump had been danced then.

Ped. Let's away
And do their great commands, and do 'em handsomely:
Contrite, and true, for I believe Roderigo,
And constantly believe, we shall be happy.

Rod. So you do well; fall edge or flat o' my side;
All I can stagger at is the Kings anger,
Which if it come, I am prepar'd to meet it.

Ped. The King has mercy, friend, as well as Justice:
And when you fall: no more—

Rod. I hope the fairest. [Exeunt.

SCENE V.

Enter Master, Seberto, Curio.

Cur. We have told ye what he is: what time we have sought him:
His nature, and his name: the seeming Boy too
Ye had here, how, and what by your own relation,
All circumstances we have clear'd: That the Duke sent him
We told ye how impossible; he knows him not;
That he is mad himself, and therefore fit
To be your Prisoner, we dare swear against it.

Seb. Take heed Sir, be not madder than you would make him;
Though he be rash, and suddain (which is all his wildness)
Take heed ye wrong him not: he is a Gentleman,
And so must be restor'd and clear'd in all points;
The King shall be a Judge else.

Cur. 'Twas some trick
That brought him hither: the boy, and letter conterfeit,
Which shall appear, if ye dare now detain him.

Mast. I dare not Sir; nor will not: I believe ye,
And will restore him up: had I known sooner
H'ad been a neighbour, and the man you speak him,
(Though as I live, he carried a wild seeming)
My Service, and my self had both attended him.
How I have us'd him, let him speak.

Seb. Let's in, and visit him:
Then to the holy Temple: there pay our duties,
And so we'l take our leaves.

Mast. I'le wait upon you. [Exeunt.

SCENE VI.

An Altar prepar'd. Solemn Musick.

Enter Governour, Verdugo, Courtiers, Ladies, &c.

Gov. This to devotion sacred be,
This to the Kings prosperity,
This to the Queen, and Chastity. [Musick.

Ver. These Oblations first we bring
To purge our selves: These to the King.
To love, and beautie these: now sing. [Musick.

Ladies. Holy Altar, daign to take
These for our selves: For the Kings sake
And honour these: These sacred lye
To Vertue, Love, and Modesty,
Our wishes to Eternity. [Musick.

Enter Pedro, and Roderigo.

Ped. For our selves first, thus we bend,
Forgive us heaven, and be our friend.

Rod. And happy fortune to us send.

Ped. To the King, honour, and all Joy,
Long, and happy from annoy.

Rod. Prosperous be all his dayes
Every new hour, a new praise.

Ped. Every minute thus be seen,

Both. And thousand honours Crown the Queen. [Musick.

Enter Alphonso, Curio, Seberto.

Seb. Come to the Altar: let us do our duties.

Alph. I have almost forgot a Church.

Cur. Kneel reverently.

Alph. For my lost wits (let me see)
First I pray: and secondly
To be at home again, and free,
And if I travel more, hang me.
For the King, and for the Queen,
That they may be wise, and seen
Never in the Mad-mans Inne.
For my Daughter, I would pray
But she has made a holy-day,
And needs not my devotion now
Let her take her own course, Heaven,
Whether it be odd, or even, [Musick.

Enter Alinda, and Juletta, like Shepheards.

And if that please not, take her you.

Seb. A short, and sweet Meditation: what are these here?

Alin. Hale to this sacred place.

Jul. They are all here, Madam:
No violence dare touch here; be secure:
My Bilbo Master too: how got he loose again?
How lamentably he looks! he has had discipline.
I dare not let him know my pranks.

Seb. 'Tis she sure.

Cur. 'Tis certainly.

Ped. Ha! do I dazel?

Rod. 'Tis the fair Alinda.

Gov. What wonder stand these strangers in?

Rod. Her woman by her.
The same Sir, as I live.

Alph. I had a Daughter,
With such a face once: such eyes and nose too,
Ha, let me see, 'tis wondrous like Alinda,
Their devotion ended, I'le mark 'em and nearer.
And she had a Filly that waited on her,
Just with such a favour:
Do they keep Goats now?

Alin. Thus we kneel, and thus we pray
A happy honour to this day,
Thus our Sacrifice we bring
Ever happy to the King.

Jul. These of Purple, Damask green
Sacred to the vertuous Queen
Here we hang.

Alin. As these are now
Her glories ever spring, and show.
These for our selves: our hopes, and loves,
Full of pinks, and Ladies gloves,
Of hearts-ease too, which we would fain
As we labour for, attain;
Hear me Heaven, and as I bend,
Full of hope, some comfort send.

Jul. Hear her: hear her: if there be [Musick.
A spotless Sweetness, this is she.

Ped. Now Roderigo stand.

Rod. He that divides ye
Divides my life too.

Gov. Pedro, Noble Pedro,
Do not you know your friend?

Ped. I know, and honour ye.

Gov. Lady this leave I'le crave, pray be not angry,
I will not long divide you: how happy, Pedro,
Would all the court be now, might they behold thee?
Might they but see you thus, and thus embrace you?
The King will be a joyfull man believe it,
Most joyfull, Pedro.

Ped. I am his humble Servant.
Nay, good Sir, speak your will, I see you wonder, one easie
word from you—

Alph. I dare say nothing;
My tongue's a new tongue Sir, and knows his tither,
Let her do what she please, I dare do nothing,
I have been damn'd for doing, will the King know him?
That fellow there, will he respect and honour him?
He has been look'd upon they say: will he own him?

Gov. Yes certainly and grace him, ever honour him,
Restore him every way, he has much lamented him.

Alp. Is't your will too? this is the last time of asking.

Rod. I am sure, none else shall touch her, none else enjoy her.
If this, and this hold.

Al. You had best begin the game then, I have no title in her,
Pray take her, and dispatch her, and commend me to her,
And let me get me home, and hope I am sober:
Kiss, kiss, it must be thus: stand up Alinda,
I am the more child, and more need of blessing.
Ye had a waiting woman, one Juletta,
A pretty desperate thing, just such another
As this sweet Lady; we call'd her nimble chaps.
I pray is this the party?

Jul. No indeed Sir,
She is at home; I am a little Foot-Boy,
That walk a nights, and fright old Gentlemen;
Make 'em lose Hats and Cloaks.

Alph. And Horses too.

Jul. Sometimes I do Sir, teach 'em the way through ditches;
how to break their worships shins, and noses
Against old broken Stiles, and Stumps.

Alph. A fine art.
I feel it in my bones yet.

Jul. I am a Drum Sir,
A Drum at mid-night, ran tan tan tan tan Sir,
Do you take me for Juletta? I am a Page Sir,
That brought a letter from the Duke of Medina
To have one senior Alphonso, just such another
As your old worship, worm'd for running mad Sir.
Alas, you are mistaken.

Alph. Thou art the Devil,
And so thou hast used me.

Jul. I am any thing,
An old woman, that tells fortunes.

Rod. Ha.

Jul. And frights good people,
And sends them to Segovia for their fortunes:
I am strange airs, and excellent sweet voyces.
I am any thing, to do her good, believe me;
She now recovered, and her wishes crown'd
I am Juletta again, pray Sir forgive me,

Alph. I dare not do otherwise, for fear thou should'st still follow me,
Prethee be forgiven, and I prethee forgive me too:
And if any of you will marry her.

Jul. No I beseech you Sir;
My Mistress is my husband, with her I'le dwell still,
And when you play any more pranks you know where to have me.

Ped. You know him Sir.

Gov. Know him, and much lament him:
The King's incens'd much, much Sir, I can assure you.

Ped. Noble Governour.

Gov. But since he is your friend, and now appears,
In honour of this day and love to you Sir:
I'le try the power I have, to the pinch I'le put it;
Here's my hand Roderigo, I'le set you fair again.

Rod. And here's mine, to be true, and full of service.

Gov. Your people too, shall have their general pardons,
We'l have all peace and love.

Rod. All shall pray for you.

Gov. To my house now, and suite you to your worths;
Off with these weeds, and appear glorious:
Then to the Priest, that shall attend us here,
And this be stil'd Loves new and happy year.

Rod. The Kings and Queens, two noble honours meet,
To grace this day, two true loves at their feet.

Alph. Well well, since wedding will come after wooing,
Give me some Rose-Mary, and let's be going. [Exeunt.

THE
CAPTAIN.

A
COMEDY.

Persons Represented in the Play.

Julio, a noble Gentleman, in Love with Lelia.
Angelo, a Gentleman, friend to Juli[o].
Lodovico, } two Cowardly Gulls.
Piso, }
Frederick, a Gentleman, Brother to Frank.
Jacomo, an angry Captain, a Woman-hater.
Fabritio, a merry Souldier, friend to Jacomo.
Lelia's Father, an old poor Gentleman.
Host.
Vintner.
Drawers.
Servants.

WOMEN.

Frank, Sister to Frederick, a Lady passionately in love with Jacomo.
Cl[o]ra, Sister to Fabritio, a witty companion to Frank.
Lelia, a cunning wanton Widow.
Waiting-woman.
Maid Servants.

The Scene Venice, Spain.

The principal Actors were,

Richard Burbadge.
Henry Condel.
William Ostler.
Alexander Cooke.

Actus Primus. Scena Prima.

Enter Lodovico, and Piso.

Lodovico. The truth is, Piso, so she be a woman
And rich and wholsome, let her be of what
Condition and Complexion it please,
She shall please me I am sure; Those men are fools
That make their eyes their choosers, not their needs.

Piso. Me thinks I would have her honest too, and handsom.

Lod. Yes if I could have both, but since they are
Wishes so near impossibilities,
Let me have that that may be.

Piso. If it were so,
I hope your conscience would not be so nice
To start at such a blessing.

Lod. No believe me,
I do not think I should.

Piso. But thou would'st be
I do not doubt upon the least suspicion
Unmercifully jealous.

Lod. No I should not,
For I believe those mad that seek vexations.
A Wife, though she be honest, is a trouble,
Had I a Wife as fair as Hellen was
That drew so many Cuckolds to her cause,
These eyes should see another in my Saddle
Ere I believe my beast would carry double.

Piso. So should not I by'our Lady, and I think
My patience (by your leave) as good as yours,
Report would stir me mainly, I am sure on't.

Lod. Report? You are unwise; report is nothing;
For if there were a truth in what men talk,
I mean of this kind, this part of the world
I am sure would be no more call'd Christendom.

Piso. What then?

Lod. Why Cuckoldom, for we should lose
Our old faiths clean, and hold their new opinions:
If talk could make me sweat, before I would marry
I'd tie a surer knot, and hang my self;
I tell thee there was never woman yet,
(Nor never hope there shall be) though a Saint,
But she has been a subject to mens tongues,
And in the worse sense: and that desperate Husband,
That dares give up his peace, and follow humours
(Which he shall find too busie, if he seek 'em)
Besides the forcing of himself an Ass
He dyes in chains, eating himself with anger.

Piso. Having these Antidotes against opinion
I would marry any one; an arrant Whore.

Lod. Thou dost not feel the nature of this Physick
Which I prescribe not to beget diseases,
But where they are, to stop them.

Piso. I conceive ye:
What thinkest thou, thy way, of the widow Lelia?

Lod. Faith thou hast found out one I must confess
Would stagger my best patience: From that woman
As I would bless my self from plagues and surfeits,
From Men of war at Sea, from storms, and quicksands,
From hearing Treason and concealing it,
From daring of a Madman, or a Drunkard,
From Heresie, ill Wine, and stumbling post Horse;
So would I pray each morning, and each night
(And if I said each hour, I should not lye)
To be delivered of all these in one,
The woman thou hast named.

Enter Julio, Angelo, and Father.

Piso. Thou hast set her in a pretty Litany.

Ang. Pray take my counsel.

Jul. When I am my self
I'le hear you any way; love me though thus
As thou art honest, which I dare not be
Lest I despise my self. Farewel. [Exit Julio.

Piso. Do you hear my friend: Sir, are you not a setter,
For the fair widow here of famous memory?

Fa. Ha? am I taken for a Bawd? Oh Heaven!
To mine own child too? misery, I thank thee
That keepst me from their knowledge: Sir, believe me
I understand ye not.

Lod. You love plain dealing.
Are you not parcel Bawd? confess your Function,
It may be we would use it.

Fa. Were she worse,
As I fear strangely she is ill enough,
I would not hear this tamely.

Piso. Here's a shilling
To strike good luck withal.

Fa. Here's a Sword, Sir,
To strike a Knave withal, thou lyest, and basely,
Be what thou wilt.

Ang. Why how now Gentlemen?

Fa. You are many: I shall meet you, Sir, again,
And make you understand, y'have wrong'd a Woman
Compar'd with whom thy Mother was a sinner. Farewel. [Exit Father.

Piso. He has amazed me.

Ang. With a blow?
By'r Lady 'twas a sound one; are ye good
At taking knocks? I shall know you hereafter:
You were to blame to tempt a man so far
Before you knew him certain: h'as not hurt ye?

Piso. No I think.

Lod. We were to blame indeed to go so far,
For men may be mistaken: if he had swinged us
H'had serv'd us right: Beshrew my heart, I think,
We have done the Gentlewoman as much wrong too,
For hang me if I know her
In my particular.

Piso. Nor I; this 'tis to credit
Mens idle tongues; I warrant they have said
As much by our two Mothers.

Lod. Like enough.

Ang. I see a beating now and then does more
Move and stir up a mans contrition
Than a sharp Sermon, here probatum est.

Enter Frederick, and Servant.

Ser. What shall I tell your Sister?

Fred. Tell her this,
Till she be better conversation'd
And leave her walking by her self, and whining
To her old melancholy Lute, I'le keep
As far from her as the Gallows. [Exit Servant.

Ang. Who's that, Frederick?

Fred. Yes marry is't. O Angelo how dost thou?

Ang. Save you Sir, how does my Mistris?

Fred. She is in love I think, but not with you
I can assure you: saw ye Fabritio?

Ang. Is he come over?

Fred. Yes a week ago: Shall we dine?

Ang. I cannot.

Fred. Prethee do.

Ang. Believe me I have business.

Fred. Have you too, Gentlemen?

Piso. No Sir.

Fred. Why then let's dine together.

Lod. With all my heart.

Fred. Go then: Farewel good Angelo,
Commend me to your friend.

Ang. I will. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Enter Frank, and Clora.

Clo. Do not dissemble Frank, mine eyes are quicker
Than such observers, that do ground their faith
Upon one smile or tear; y'are much alter'd,
And are as empty of those excellencies
That were companions to you; I mean mirth
And free disposure of your blood and Spirit,
As you were born a mourner.

Fran. How I prethee?
For I perceive no such change in my self.

Clo. Come, come, this is not wise, nor provident
To halt before a Cripple: if you love,
Be liberal to your friend, and let her know it,
I see the way you run, and know how tedious
'Twill prove without a true companion.

Fran. Sure thou wouldst have me love.

Clo. Yes marry would I,
I should not please ye else.

Fran. And who for Heavens sake?
For I assure my self, I know not yet:
And prethee Clora, since thou'lt have it so
That I must love, and do I know not what:
Let him be held a pretty handsome fellow,
And young, and if he be a little valiant
'Twill be the better; and a little wise,
And faith a little honest.

Clor. Well I will sound ye yet for all your craft.

Fran. Heigh ho! I'le love no more.

Clo. Than one; and him
You shall love Frank.

Fran. Which him? thou art so wise
People will take thee shortly for a Witch:
But prethee tell me Clora, if I were
So mad as thou wouldst make me, what kind of man
Wouldst thou imagine him?

Clo. Faith some pretty fellow,
With a clean strength, that cracks a cudgel well
And dances at a Wake, and plays at Nine-holes.

Fran. O what pretty commendations thou hast given him!
Faith if I were in love as I thank Heaven
I do not think I am; this short Epistle
Before my love would make me burn the Legend.

Clor. You are too wild, I mean some Gentleman.

Fran. So do not I, till I can know 'em wiser:
Some Gentleman? no Clora, till some Gentleman
Keep some land, and fewer whores, believe me
I'le keep no love for him, I do not long
To go a foot yet, and solicite causes.

Clor. What think you then of an adventurer?
I mean some wealthy Merchant.

Fran. Let him venture
In some decai'd Ware, or Carack of his own: he shall not
Rig me out, that's the short on't; out upon't:
What young thing of my years would endure
To have her Husband in another Country
Within a month after she is married
Chopping for rotten Raisins, and lye pining
At home under the mercy of his fore-man? no,
Though they be wealthy, and indifferent wise
I do not see that I am bound to love 'em.

Clo. I see ye are hard to please; yet I will please ye.

Fran. Faith not so hard neither, if considered
What woman may deserve as she is worthy:
But why do we bestow our time so idlely?
Prethee let us entertain some other talk,
This is as sickly to me as faint weather.

Clor. Now I believe I shall content you Frank,
What think you of a Courtier?

Fran. Faith so ill,
That if I should be full, and speak but truth,
'Twould shew as if I wanted charity,
Prethee good wench let me not rail upon 'em,
Yet I have an excellent stomach, and must do it;
I have no mercy of these Infidels
Since I am put in mind on't, good wench bear with me.

Clo. Can no man fit you? I will find him out.

Fran. This Summer fruit, that you call Courtier,
While you continue cold and frosty to him
Hangs fast, and may be found: but when you fling
Too full a heat of your affections
Upon his root, and make him ripe too soon,
You'll find him rotten i'th' handling;
His oaths and affections are all one
With his apparel, things to set him off,
He has as many Mistrisses as Faiths,
And all Apocrypha; his true belief
Is only in a private Surgion,
And for my single self, I'd sooner venture
A new conversion of the Indies,
Than to make Courtiers able men, or honest.

Clo. I do believe you love no Courtier,
And by my troth to ghess you into love
With any I can think of, is beyond
Either your will, or my imagination.
And yet I am sure y'are caught: and I will know him.
There's none left now worthy the thinking of,
Unless it be a Souldier, and I am sure,
I would ever bless my self from such a fellow.

Fran. Why prethee?

Clo. Out upon 'em fire-locks,
They are nothing i'th' world but Buff and Scarlet,
Tough unhewn pieces, to hack swords upon;
I had as lieve be courted by a Cannon,
As one of those.

Fran. Thou art too malicious,
Upon my faith me thinks they're worthy men.

Clo. Say ye so? I'le pull ye on a little further.
What worth can be in those men, whose profession
Is nothing i'th' world but drink and damn me,
Out of whose violence they are possest
With legions of unwholsome whores and quarrels;
I am of that opinion, and will dye in't,
There is no understanding, nor can be
In a soust Souldier.

Fran. Now 'tis ignorance
I easily perceive that thus provokes thee,
And not the love of truth; I'le lay my life
If thou'dst been made a man, thou hadst been a coward.

Clo. If to be valiant, be to be a Souldier; I'le tell ye true,
I had rather be a Coward, I am sure with less sin.

Fra. This Heresie must be look'd to in time: for if it spread
'Twill grow too Pestilent; were I a Scholar
I would so hamper thee for thy opinion,
That ere I left, I would write thee out of credit
With all the world, and make thee not believ'd
Even in indifferent things; that I would leave thee
A reprobate out of the state of honour.
By all good things, thou hast flung aspersions
So like a fool (for I am angry with thee)
Upon a sort of men, that let me tell thee
Thy mothers mother would have been a Saint
Had she conceiv'd a Souldier; they are people
(I may commend 'em, while I speak but truth)
Of all the old world, only left to keep
Man as he was, valiant and vertuous.
They are the model of those men, whose honours
We heave our hands at when we hear recited.

Clo. They are, and I have all I sought for, 'tis a souldier
You love, hide it no longer; you have betray'd your self;
Come, I have found your way of commendations,
And what I said, was but to pull it from ye.

Fran. 'Twas pretty, are you grown so cunning, Clora?
I grant I love a souldier; But what souldier
Will be a new task to ye? But all this
I do imagine was but laid to draw me
Out of my melancholy.

Clo. I will have the man
Ere I forsake ye.

Fran. I must to my Chamber.

Clo. May not I go along?

Fran. Yes, but good wench
Move me no more with these fond questions,
They work like Rhubarb with me.

Clo. Well, I will not. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.

Enter Lelia and her Waiting-woman.