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

Away delights, go seek some other dwelling,
For I must dye:
Farewel false Love, thy tongue is ever telling
Lye after Lye.
For ever let me rest now from thy smarts,
Alas, for pity go,
And fire their hearts
That have been hard to thee, mine was not so.

Never again deluding Love shall know me,
For I will dye;
And all those griefs that think to over-grow me,
Shall be as I:
For ever will I sleep, while poor Maids cry,
Alas, for pity stay,
And let us dye
With thee, men cannot mock us in the day.

Jul. Mistriss? not one word, Mistriss if I grieve ye
I can depart again.

Ang. Let's go then quickly,
For if she get from under this dark Cloud,
We shall both sweat I fear, for't.

Jul. Do but speak
Though you turn from me, and speak bitterly,
And I am gone, for that I think will please you.

Ang. Oh, that all women were thus silent ever,
What fine things they were!

Jul. You have look'd on me,
When (if there be belief in Womens words
Spoken in tears) you swore you lov'd to do so.

Lel. Oh me, my heart!

Ang. Now, Julio, play the man,
Or such another O me will undo thee:
Would I had any thing to keep me busie,
I might not hear her; think but what she is,
Or I doubt mainly, I shall be i'th' mash too.

Jul. 'Pray speak again.

Lel. Where is my Woman?

Wom. Here.

Ang. Mercy upon me! what a face she has!
Would it were vail'd again.

Lel. Why did you let
This flattering man in to me? did not I
Charge thee to keep me from his eyes again,
As carefully as thou wouldst keep thine own?
Thou hast brought me poyson in a shape of Heaven,
Whose violence will break the hearts of all,
Of all weak Women, as it hath done mine,
That are such fools to love, and look upon him.
Good Sir, be gone, you know not what an ease
Your absence is.

Ang. By Heaven she is a wonder,
I cannot tell what 'tis, but I am [s]quamish.

Jul. Though I desire to be here more than Heaven,
As I am now, yet if my sight offend you,
So much I love to be commanded by you,
That I will go; farewel—

Lel. I should say something
E're you depart, and I would have you hear me;
But why should I speak to a man that hates me,
And will but laugh at any thing I suffer?

Jul. If this be hate—

Lel. Away, away, deceiver.

Jul. Now help me, Angelo!

Ang. I am worse than thou art.

Lel. Such tears as those might make another Woman
Believe thee honest, Julio, almost me,
That know their ends, for I confess they stir me.

Ang. What will become of me? I cannot go now
If you would hang me, from her; O brave Eye!
Steal me away, [for Gods sake] Julio.

Jul. Alas, poor man! I am lost again too, strangely.

Lel. No, I will sooner trust a Crocodile
When he sheds tears, for he kills suddenly,
And ends our cares at once; or any thing
That's evil to our Natures, than a man;
I find there is no end of his deceivings,
Nor no avoiding 'em, if we give way;
I was requesting you to come no more
And mock me with your service, 'tis not well,
Nor honest, to abuse us so far; you may love too;
For though, I must confess, I am unworthy
Of your love every way; yet I would have you
Think I am somewhat too good to make sport of.

Jul. Will you believe me?

Lel. For your Vows and Oaths,
And such deceiving tears as you shed now,
I will, as you do, study to forget 'em.

Jul. Let me be most despis'd of men—

Lel. No more;
There is no new way left, by which your cunning
Shall once more hope to catch me; no, thou false man,
I will avoid thee, and for thy sake all
That bear thy stamp, as counterfeit in love,
For I am open ey'd again, and know thee;
Go, make some other weep, as I have done,
That dare believe thee; go, and swear to her
That is a stranger to thy cruelty,
And knows not yet what man is, and his lyings,
How thou di'st daily for her; pour it out
In thy best lamentations; put on sorrow,
As thou canst, to deceive an Angel, Julio,
And vow thy self into her heart, that when
I shall leave off to curse thee for thy falshood,
Still a forsaken Woman may be found,
To call to Heaven for vengeance.

Ang. From this hour,
I heartily despise all honest Women;
I care not if the World took knowledg on't,
I see there's nothing in them, but that folly
Of loving one man only; give me henceforth,
(Before the greatest Blessing can be thought of)
If this be one, a Whore; that's all I aim at.

Jul. Mistriss, the most offending man is heard
Before his sentence, why will you condemn me
E're I produce the truth to witness with me,
How innocent I am of all your angers?

Lel. There is no trusting of that tongue, I know't,
And how far if it be believ'd, it kills; no more, Sir.

Jul. It never lied to you; if it did,
'Twas only when it call'd you mild and gentle.

Lel. Good Sir, no more; make not my understanding,
After I have suffer'd thus much evil by you,
So poor to think I have not reach'd the end
Of all your forc'd affections; yet because
I once lov'd such a sorrow too too dearly,
As that would strive to be; I do forgive ye
Even heartily, as I would be forgiven,
For all your wrongs to me; my charity
Yet loves you so far, (though again I may not)
And wish when that time comes, you will love truly,
(If you can ever do so) you may find
The worthy fruit of your affections,
True love again, not my unhappy Harvest,
Which, like a fool, I sow'd in such a heart,
So dry and stony, that a thousand showers
From these two eyes, continually raining,
Could never ripen.

Jul. Y' have conquer'd me;
I did not think to yield, but make me now,
Even what you will, my Lelia, so I may
Be but so truly happy to enjoy you.

Lel. No, no, those fond imaginations,
Are dead and buried in me, let 'em rest.

Jul. I'll marry you.

Ang. The Devil thou wilt, Julio,
How that word waken'd me! come hither, friend,
Thou art a fool, look stedfastly upon her,
Though she be all that I know excellent,
As she appears, though I could fight for her,
And run through fire; though I am stark mad too
Never to be recover'd, though I would
Give all I had i'th' World to lye with her
Even to my naked soul, I am so far gone,
Yet, methinks still, we should not dote away
That that is something more than ours, our honours.
I would not have thee marry her by no means,
Yet I should do so; is she not a Whore?

Jul. She is; but such a one—

Ang. 'Tis true, she's excellent,
And when I well consider, Julio,
I see no reason we should be confin'd
In our affections; when all Creatures else
Enjoy still where they like.

Jul. And so will I then.

Lel. He's fast enough I hope now, if I hold him.

Ang. You must not do so though, now I consider
Better what 'tis.

Jul. Do not consider, Angelo,
For I must do it.

Ang. No, I'll kill thee first,
I love thee so well, that the worms shall have thee
Before this Woman, friend.

Jul. It was your counsel.

Ang. As I was a Knave,
Not as I lov'd thee.

Jul. All this is lost upon me, Angelo,
For I must have her; I will marry ye
When ye please: pray look better on me.

Ang. Nay then no more, friend; farewel, Julio,
I have so much discretion left me yet
To know, and tell thee, thou art miserable.

Jul. Stay, thou art more than she, and now I find it.

Lel. Is he so?

Jul. Mistriss.

Lel. No, I'll see thee starv'd first. [Exit Lelia.

Jul. Friend.

Ang. Fly her as I do, Julio, she's a Witch.

Jul. Beat me away then, I shall grow here still else.

Ang. That were the way to have me grow there with thee,
Farewel for ever. [Exit Angelo.

Jul. Stay, I am uncharm'd,
Farewel thou cursed house, from this hour be
More hated of me than a Leprosie. [Exit Julio.

Enter Lelia.

Lel. Both gone? a plague upon 'em both,
Am I deceiv'd again? Oh, I would rail
And follow 'em, but I fear the spight of people,
Till I have emptied all my gall; the next
I seize upon shall pay their follies
To the last penny; This will work me worse,
He that comes next, by Heav'n shall feel their curse. [Exit.

SCENE V.

Enter Jacomo at one door, Fabricio at another.

Fab. O, ye are a sweet youth, so uncivilly
To rail, and run away!

Jac. O! are you there, Sir?
I am glad I have found ye, you have not now your Ladies,
To shew your wit before.

Fab. Thou wou'lt not, wou'lt 'ou?

Jac. What a sweet youth I am, as you have made me,
You shall know presently.

Fab. Put up your Sword,
I have seen it often, 'tis a Fox.

Jac. It is so,
And you shall feel it too; will you dispatch, Sir?
And leave your mirth out? or I shall take occasion
To beat ye, and disgrace ye too.

Fab. Well, since there is no other way to deal with you,
Let's see your Sword, I am sure you scorn all odds,
I will fight with you—

Jac. How now? [They measure, and Fab. gets his Sword.

Fab. Nay, stand out,
Or by this light, I'll make ye.

Jac. This is scurvy,
And out of fear done.

Fab. No, Sir, out of judgment,
For he that deals with thee, thou'rt grown so boysterous,
Must have more wits, or more lives than another,
Or always be in Armour, or inchanted,
Or he is miserable.

Jac. Your end of this, Sir?

Fab. My end is only mirth to laugh at thee,
Which now I'll do in safety; ha, ha, ha.

Jac. 'S heart! then I am grown ridiculous.

Fab. Thou art,
And wilt be shortly sport for little Children,
If thou continuest this rude stubborness.

Jac. O God, for any thing that had an edge!

Fab. Ha, ha, ha.

Jac. Fye, what a shame it is,
To have a Lubber shew his teeth!

Fab. Ha, ha.

Jac. Why dost thou laugh at me, thou wretched fellow?
Speak with a Pox; and look ye render me
Just such a reason—

Fab. I shall dye with laughing.

Jac. As no man can find fault with; I shall have
Another Sword, I shall, ye flearing Puppy.

Fab. Does not this testiness shew finely in thee?
Once more take heed of Children, if they find thee,
They'll break up School to bear thee Company,
Thou wilt be such a pastime, and whoot at thee,
And call thee Bloody-Bones, and Spade, and Spit-fire,
And Gaffer Mad-man; and go by Jeronimo,
And will with a wisp, and come aloft, and crack rope,
And old Saint Dennis with the dudgeon Codpiss!
And twenty such names.

Jac. No, I think they will not.

Fab. Yes, but they will; and Nurses still their Children
Only with thee, and here take him, Jacomo.

Jac. God's precious, that I were but over thee
One Steeple height, I would fall and break thy Neck.

Fab. This is the reason I laugh at thee,
And while thou art thus, will do; tell me one thing.

Jac. I wonder how thou durst thus question me;
Prithee restore my Sword.

Fab. Tell me but one thing,
And it may be I will; Nay Sir, keep out.

Jac. Well, I will be your fool now, speak your mind, Sir.

Fab. Art thou not breeding teeth?

Jac. How? Teeth?

Fab. Yes, teeth, thou wouldst not be so froward else.

Jac. Teeth?

Fab. Come, 'Twill make thee
A little rheumatick, but that's all one,
We'll have a Bib, for spoiling of thy Doublet;
And a fring'd Muckender hang at thy Girdle,
I'll be thy Nurse, and get a Coral for thee,
And a fine Ring of Bells.

Jac. 'Faith, this is somewhat
Too much, Fabricio, to your friend that loves you;
Methinks your goodness rather should invent
A way to make my follies less, than breed 'em;
I should have been more moderate to you,
But I see ye despise me.

Fab. Now I love ye,
There, take your Sword: continue so; I dare not
Stay now to try your patience, soon I'll meet ye,
And as you love your honours, and your state,
Redeem your self well to the Gentlewoman,
Farewel till soon. [Exit Fabricio.

Jac. Well, I shall think of this. [Exit Jacomo.

SCENE [VI].

Enter Host, Piso, and Boy with a Glass of Wine.

Pis. Nothing i'th' World, but a dry'd Tongue or two—

Host. Taste him, and tell me.

Pis. Is a valiant wine,
This must be mine, Host.

Host. This shall be ipse,
Oh, he's a devilish biting wine, a Tyrant
Where he lays hold, Sir, this is he that scorns
Small Beer should quench him; or a foolish Caudle
Bring him to Bed; no, if he flinch I'll shame him,
And draw him out to mull amongst old Midwives.

Piso. There is a Souldier, I would have thee better
Above the rest, because he thinks there's no man
Can give him drink enough.

Host. What kind of man?

Pis. That thou mayst know him perfectly, he's one
Of a left-handed making, a lank thing;
As if his Belly were ta'n up with straw
To hunt a match.

Host. Has he no Beard to shew him?

Pis. 'Faith, but a little, yet enough to note him,
Which grows in parcels, here and there a remnant;
And that thou mayst not miss him, he is one
That wears his forehead in a velvet scabbard.

Host. That note's enough, he's mine, I'll fuddle him,
Or lye i'th' suds; you will be here too?

Pis. Yes, 'Till soon, farewel, and bear up.

Host. If I do not,
Say I am recreant, I'll get things ready.

Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.

Enter Julio, and Angelo.

Jul. 'Tis strange thou should'st be thus, with thy discretion.

Ang. I am sure I am so.

Jul. I am well you see.

Ang. Keep your self warm then, and go home, & sleep,
And pray [to God] thou mayst continue so;
Would I had gone to th' Devil of an arrant,
When I was made a fool to see her; Leave me,
I am not fit for conversation.

Jul. Why, thou art worse than I was.

Ang. Therefore leave me,
The nature of my sickness is not eas'd
By company or counsel, I am mad,
And if you follow me with questions,
Shall shew my self so.

Jul. This is more than errour.

Ang. 'Pray be content, that you have made me thus,
And do not wonder at me.

Jul. Let me know, but what you mean to do, and I am gone.
I would be loth to leave you thus else.

Ang. Nothing
That needs your fear, that is sufficient;
Farewel, and pray for me.

Jul. I would not leave you.

Ang. You must, and shall.

Jul. I will then, would yond' Woman
Had been ten fathom under ground, when first
I saw her eyes.

Ang. Yet she had been dangerous,
For to some wealthy Rock of precious stone,
Or mine of Gold, as tempting, her fair Body
Might have been turn'd, which once found out by labour,
And brought to use, having her Spells within it,
Might have corrupted States, and ruin'd Kingdoms,
Which had been fearful, (Friend) go, when I see thee
Next, I will be as thou art, or no more.
'Pray do not follow me, you'll make me angry.

Jul. Heav'n grant you may be right again.

Ang. Amen. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Enter Tavern-Boys, &c.

Boy. Score a gallon of Sack, and a pint of Olives to the Unicorn.

Above, within. Why drawer?

Boy. Anon, anon.

Another Boy. Look into the Nags-head there.

2 Boy. Score a quart of Claret to the Bar,
And a pound of Sausages into the Flower-pot.

Enter first Servant with Wine.

1 Serv. The Devil's in their throats; anon, anon.

Enter second Servant.

2 Ser. Mull a pint of Sack there for the women in the
Flower-deluce, and put in ginger enough, they belch like potguns,
And Robin fetch Tobacco for the Peacock, they will not be
Drunk till mid-night else: how now, how does my Master?

2 Boy. Faith he lyes drawing on a pace.

1 Boy. That's an ill sign.

2 Boy. And fumbles with the pots too.

1 Boy. Then there's no way but one with him.

2 Boy. All the rest,
Except the Captain, are in Limbo patrum,
Where they lye sod in sack.

1 Boy. Does he bear up still?

2 Boy. Afore the wind still, with his lights up bravely,
All he takes in I think he turns to Juleps,
Or h'as a world of Stowage in his belly,
The rest look all like fire-drakes, and lye scatter'd
Like rushes round about the room. My Master
Is now the loving'st man, I think, above ground.

1 Boy. Would he were always drunk then.

Within. Drawer.

2 Boy. Anon, anon Sir.

1 Boy. And swears I shall be free to morrow, and so weeps
And calls upon my Mistris.

2 Boy. Then he's right.

1 Boy. And swears the Captain must lye this night with her
And bad me break it to her with discretion,
That he may leave an issue after him,
Able to entertain a Dutch Ambassador,
And tells him feelingly how sweet she is,
And how he stole her from her friends i'th' Country;
And brought her up disguiz'd with the Carriers,
And was nine nights bereaving her her maidenhead,
And the tenth got a drawer, here they come.

Enter Jacomo, Host, Lod. Piso.

Within cry drawer. Anon, anon, speak to the Tyger, Peter.

Host. There's my Bells boys, my silver Bell.

Piso. Would he were hang'd
As high as I could ring him.

Host. Captain.

Jac. Hoe Boy.

Lod. Robin, sufficient single Beer, as cold as crystal,
Quench Robin, quench.

1 Boy. I am gone Sir.

Host. Shall we bear up still? Captain how I love thee!
Sweet Captain let me kiss thee, by this hand
I love thee next to Malmsey in a morning,
Of all things transitory.

Jac. I love thee too, as far as I can love a fat man.

Host. Do'st thou Captain?
Sweetly? and heartily?

Jac. With all my heart Boy.

Host. Then welcom death, come close mine eyes sweet Captain
Thou shalt have all.

Jac. What shall your wife have then?

Host. Why she shall have besides my blessing, and a silver spoon,
Enough to keep her stirring in the world,
Three little Children, one of them was mine
Upon my conscience, th' other two are Pagans.

Jac. 'Twere good she had a little foolish mony,
To rub the time away with.

Host. Not a rag,
Not a Deniere, no, let her spin a Gods name:
And raise her house again.

Jac. Thou shalt not dye though:
Boy see your Master safe delivered,
He's ready to lye in.

Host. Good night.

Jac. Good morrow,
Drink till the Cow come home, 'tis all pay'd boyes.

Lod. A pox of Sack.

Host. Marry [God] bless my Buts, Sack is a Jewel,
'Tis comfortable, Gentlemen.

Jac. More Beer boy,
Very sufficient single Beer.

Boy. Here Sir.
How is it Gentlemen?

Jac. But ev'n so, so.

Host. Go before finely Robin, and prepare
My wife, bid her be right and streight, I come boy.
And Sirrah, if they quarrel, let 'em use
Their own discretions, by all means, and stir not,
And he that's kill'd shall be as sweetly buried;
Captain, adieu, adieu sweet bully Captain,
One kiss before I dye, one kiss.

Jac. Farewel Boy.

Host. All my sweet boys farewel. [Exit Host.

Lod. Go sleep, you are drunk.

Ja. Come gentlemen, I'le see you at your lodging,
You look not lustily, a quart more.

Lod. No Boy.

Piso. Get us a Torch.

Boy. 'Tis day Sir.

Jac. That's all one.

Piso. Are not those the stars, thou scurvy Boy?

Lod. Is not Charles-wain there, tell me that, there?

Jac. Yes;
I have paid 'em truly: do not vex him Sirrah.

Piso. Confess it Boy, or as I live I'le beat
Mid-night into thy brains.

Boy. I do confess it.

Piso. Then live, and draw more small Beer presently.

Jac. Come Boyes, let's hug together, and be loving,
And sing, and do brave things cheerly my hearts,
A pox o' being sad; now could I fly
And turn the world about upon my finger,
Come ye shall love me, I am an honest fellow:
Hang care and fortune, we are friends.

Lod. No Captain.

Jac. Do not you love me? I love you two dearly.

Piso. No by no means; you are a fighting Captain,
And kill up such poor people as we are, by th' dozens.

Lod. As they kill flyes with Fox-tails, Captain.

Jac. Well Sir.

Lod. Me thinks now as I stand, the Captain shews
To be a very mercifull young man.
(And pre'thee Piso, let me have thy opinion).

Piso. Then he shall have mercy, that merciful is,
Or all the Painters are Apocrypha.

Jac. I am glad you have your wits yet, will ye go?

Piso. You had best say we are drunk.

Jac. Ye are.

Lod. Ye lye.

Jac. Y'are rascals, drunken rascals.

Piso. 'Tis sufficient.

Jac. And now I'le tell you why, before I beat ye,
You have been tampring any time these three days,
Thus to disgrace me.

Piso. That's a lye too.

Jac. Well Sir,
Yet I thank fate I have turn'd your points on you,
For which I'le spare ye somewhat, half a beating.

Piso. I'le make you fart fire Captain, by this hand,
And ye provoke, do not provoke I'de wish you.

Jac. How do you like this?

Lod. Sure I am inchanted.

Piso. Stay till I draw.

Jac. Dispatch then, I am angry.

Piso. And thou shalt see how suddenly I'll kill thee.

Jac. Thou darst not draw, ye cold, tame, mangy Cowards,
Ye drunken Rogues, can nothing make you valiant?
Not wine, nor beating?

Lod. If this may be suffer'd,
'Tis very well.

Jac. Go there's your way, go and sleep:
I have pity on you, you shall have the rest
To morrow when we meet.

Piso. Come Lodowick,
He's monstrous drunk now, there's no talking with him.

Jac. I am so; when I am sober, I'le do more
Boy where's mine Host? [Ex. Lod. and Piso.

Boy. He's on his bed asleep Sir. [Ex. Boy.

Jac. Let him alone then: now am I high proof
For any action, now could I fight bravely,
And charge into a wild fire; or I could love
Any man living now, or any woman,
Or indeed any creature that loves Sack
Extreamly, monstrously; I am so loving,
Just at this instant, that I might be brought
I feel it, with a little labour, now to talk
With a Justice of peace, that to my nature
I hate next an ill Sword: I will do
Some strange brave thing now, and I have it here:
Pray Heaven the air keep out; I feel it buzzing. [Exit.

SCENE III.

Enter Frederick, Frank, Clora.

Clora. She loves him too much, that's the plain truth Frederick,
For which if I might be believ'd, I think her
A strange forgetter of her self; there's Julio,
Or twenty more——

Fred. In your eye I believe you,
But credit me the Captain is a man,
Lay but his rough affections by, as worthy.

Clara. So is a resty Jade a horse of service,
If he would leave his nature; give me one
By your leave Sir to make a husband of
Not to be wean'd, when I should marry him;
Me thinks a man is misery enough.

Fred. You are too bitter,
I would not have him worse.
Yet I shall see you hamper'd one day Lady,
I do not doubt it, for this heresie.

Clo. I'le burn before; come pre'thee leave this sadness;
This walking by thy self to see the Devil,
This mumps, this Lachrymæ, this love in sippets;
It fits thee like a French-hood.

Fra. Does it so?
I am sure it fits thee to be ever talking,
And nothing to the purpose, take up quickly;
Thy wit will founder of all four else wench,
If thou hold'st this pace; take up when I bid thee.

Clora. Before your Brother, fy?

Fred. I can endure it.

Enter Jacomo.

Clo. Here's Raw-head come again; Lord how he looks!
Pray we 'scape with broken pates.

Fra. Were I he,
Thou should'st not want thy wish, he has been drinking,
Has he not Frederick?

Fred. Yes, but do not find it.

Clor. Peace and let's hear his wisdom.

Fred. You will mad him.

Jac. I am somewhat bold, but that's all one.

Clor. A short and pithy saying of a Souldier.

Fra. A[s] I live
Thou art a strange mad wench.

Clor. To make a Parson.

Jac. Ladyes I mean to kiss ye.

Clora. How he wipes his mouth like a young Preacher;
We shall have it.

Jac. In order as you lye before me; first
I'le begin with you.

Fra. With me Sir?

Jac. Yes.

Fra. If you will promise me to kiss in ease,
I care not if I venture.

Jac. I will kiss according to mine own inventions
As I shall see cause; sweetly I would wish you,
I love ye.

Fra. Do you Sir?

Jac. Yes indeed do I,
Would I could tell you how.

Fra. I would you would Sir.

Jac. I would to Heaven I could, but 'tis sufficient,
I love you with my heart.

Fra. Alas poor heart.

Jac. And I am sorry; but we'l talk of that
Hereafter, if it please Heaven.

Fra. Ev'n when you will Sir.

Clor. He's dismal drunk, would he were muzled.

Jac. You
I take it are the next.

Fra. Go to him fool.

Clor. Not I, he will bite me.

Jac. When wit? when?

Clor. Good Captain.

Jac. Nay, and you play bo-peep; I'le ha' no mercy
But catch as catch may.

Fred. Nay, I'le not defend ye.

Clor. Good Captain do not hurt me, I am sorry
That e're I anger'd ye.

Jac. I'le tew you for't
By this hand wit, unless you kiss discreetly.

Clor. No more Sir.

Jac. Yes a little more sweet wit,
One tast more o' your office: go thy wayes
With thy small kettle Drums; upon my conscience
Thou art the best, that e're man laid his leg o'er.

Clor. He smells just like a Cellar,
Fye upon him.

Jac. Sweet Lady now to you.

Clor. For loves sake kiss him.

Fred. I shall not keep my countenance.

Fra. Trye pre'thee.

Jac. Pray be not coy sweet woman, for I'le kiss ye,
I am blunt
But you must pardon me.

Clor. O God, my sides.

All. Ha, ha, ha, ha.

Jac. Why ha, ha, ha? why laugh?
Why all this noise sweet Ladyes?

Clor. Lusty Laurence,
See what a Gentlewoman you have saluted;
Pray God she prove not quick.

Fred. Where were thine eyes
To take me for a woman? ha, ha, ha.

Jac. Who art 'a, art 'a mortal?

Fred. I am Frederick.

Jac. Then Frederick is an Asse,
A scurvy Frederick to laugh at me.

Fra. Sweet Captain.

Jac. Away woman;
Go stitch and serve, [God,] I despise thee woman,
And Frederick shall be beaten; 'Sfut ye Rogue
Have you none else to make your puppies of, but me?

Fred. I pre'thee be more patient
There's no hurt done.

Jac. 'Sfut but there shall be, Scab.

Clor. Help, help for loves sake.

Fra. Who's within there?

Fred. So now you have made a fair hand.

Jac. Why?

Fred. You have kill'd me— [Fall as kill'd.

Clor. Call in some Officers, and stay the Captain.

Jac. You shall not need.

Clor. This is your drunkenness.

Fra. O me, unhappy Brother, Frederick,
Look but upon me, do not part so from me,
Set him a little higher, he is dead.

Clora. O villain, villain.

Enter Fabritio, and Servants.