Beaumont and Fletcher's Works, Vol. 07 of 10

Soto. Can any living man, unless a Rascal
That neither knows himself, nor a fashion'd Gentleman
Take me for a worse man than my Master now?
I am naturally proud in these clothes: but if pride now
Should catch a fall in what I am attempting,
'Tis but a Proverb sound, and a neck broken,
That's the worst can come on't, a Gentleman's gone then,
A Gentleman o'th' first house, there's the end on't:
My Master lies most pittifully complaining,
Wringing and kicking up to th' ears in love yonder,
And such a lamentable noise he keeps, it kills me:
I have got his cloaths, and if I can get to her
By hook or crook here, such a song I'll sing her—
I think I shall be hang'd, but that's no matter,
What's a hanging among friends: I am valiant now as an Elephant,
I have consider'd what to say too: let me see now,
This is the place, 'tis plaguy high: stay at that lower window
Let me aim finely now, like a good Gunner,
It may prove but a whipping.

Enter Silvio.

Sil. I saw some body
Pass by me now, and though it were dark, me-thought yet
I knew the clothes: ha, let me not be cozen'd,
The Ladder too, ready to fling it? monstrous,
'Tis he, 'tis Claudio: most voluptuous villain,
Scandal to womans credit: Love, I forget thee.

Soto. What will he do i'th' name of Heaven, what's that there?

Sil. And all the friendship that I bore thee, bury here.

Soto. What has he in's hand? I hope but a Cudgel.

Sil. Thy faul'ts forgive O Heaven: farewel thou traitor.

Soto. I am slain: I am slain.

Sil. He's down, and dead: dead certain,
'Twas too rash, too full of spleen, stark dead:
This is no place now to repent in, only
Would I had given this hand that shot the Pistol
I had miss'd thee, and thou wer't once more Claudio. [Exit.

Enter Claudio.

Cla. Why should I love thus foolishly? thus desperately?
And give away my heart where no hope's left me?
Why should not the true counsel of a friend restrain me?
The Devils mouth I run into affright me,
The honor of the Lady, charm my wildness;
I have no power, no Being of my self,
No reason strong enough now left within me
To bind my Will: Oh Love, thou god, or devil,
Or what thou art, that playes the tyrant in me.

Soto. Oh.

Cla. What's that cry?

Soto. A Surgeon, a Surgeon,
Twenty good Surgeons.

Cla. 'Tis not far from me,
Some murther o' my life.

Soto. Will you let me dye here?
No drink come, nor no Surgeon?

Cla. 'Tis my man sure,
His voice, and here he lies: how is it with thee?

Soto. I am slain, Sir, I am slain.

Cla. Slain? Who has slain thee?

Soto. Kill'd, kill'd, out-right kill'd.

Cla. Where's thy hurt?

Soto. I know not,
But I am sure I am kill'd.

Cla. Canst thou sit up,
That I may find the hurt out?

Soto. I can sit up,
But ne'er the less I am slain.

Cla. 'Tis not o' this side?

Soto. No Sir, I think it be not.

Cla. Nor o' this side,
Was it done with a sword?

Soto. A Gun, a Gun, sweet Master.

Cla. The devil a bullet has been here: thou art well man.

Soto. No sure I am kill'd.

Cla. Let me see thy thighs, and belly,
As whole as a fish for any thing I see yet:
Thou bleed'st no where.

Soto. I think I do not bleed, Sir,
But yet I am afraid I am slain.

Cla. Stand up fool,
Thou hast as much hurt as my nail; who shot thee,
A Pottle, or a Pint?

Soto. Signior Silvio shot me
In these clothes; taking me for you, and seeing
The Ladder in my hand here, which I stole from ye,
Thinking to have gone to the Lady my self, and have spoke for ye.

Cla. If he had hit ye home, he had serv'd ye right sirrah,
You saucy rogue, how poor my intent shews to me,
How naked now, and foolish!

Soto. Are ye sure he has not hit me,
It gave a monstrous bounce?

Cla. You rose o' your right side,
And said your prayers too, you had been payed else:
But what need'st thou a Bullet, when thy fear kills thee?
Sirrah, keep your own counsel for all this, you'll be hang'd else,
If it be known.

Soto. If it be by my means, let me;
I am glad I am not kill'd, and far more gladder
My Gentleman-like humor's out: I feel 'tis dangerous,
And to be a gentleman, is to be kill'd twice a week.

Cla. Keep your self close i'th' Countrey for a while sirrah.
There's Money, walk to your friends.

Soto. They have no Pistols,
Nor are no Gentlemen, that's my comfort. [Exit.

Cla. I will retire too, and live private; for this Silvio,
Inflam'd with nobleness, will be my death else;
And if I can forget this love that loads me,
At least the danger: and now I think on't better,
I have some conclusions else invites me to it. [Exit.

Actus Secundus. Scæna Prima.

Enter Rodope, and Silvio at several doors.

Rod. NEphew.

Sil. My dear Aunt.

Rod. Would you go by thus slily,
And never see me, not once send in to me
Your loving Aunt? she that above all those
I call my kindred, honour'd you, and placed you
Nearest my heart?

Sil. I thank you worthy Aunt
But such at this time are my occasions—

Rod. You shall not goe yet, by my faith you shall not,
I will not be deny'd: why look ye sad Nephew?

Sil. I am seldom other: Oh, this blood sits heavy:
As I walk'd this way late last night,
In meditation of some things concern'd me—

Rod. What Nephew?

Sil. Why methought I heard a Piece, Lady,
A Piece shot off, much about this place too,
But could not judge the cause, nor what it boaded,
Under the Castle-wall.

Rod. We heard it too,
And the Watch pursu'd it presently, but found nothing,
Not any tract.

Sil. I am right glad to hear it:
The Ruffians surely that command the night
Have found him, stript him: and into the River
Convey'd the body.

Rod. You look still sadder, Nephew,
Is any thing within these walls to comfort ye?
Speak, and be Master of it.

Sil. Ye are a right Courtier,
A great Professor, but a poor performer.

Rod. Do you doubt my faith: you never found me that way.
I dare well speak it boldly, but a true friend.

Sil. Continue then.

Rod. Try me, and see who falters.

Sil. I will, and presently: 'tis in your power
To make me the most bound man to your courtesie.

Rod. Let me know how, and if I fail—

Sil. 'Tis thus then,
Get me access to the Lady Belvidere,
But for a minute, but to see her: your Husband now
Is safe at Court, I left him full employ'd there.

Rod. You have ask'd the thing without my power to grant ye,
The Law lies on the danger: if I lov'd ye not
I would bid ye goe, and there be found, and dye for't.

Sil. I knew your love, and where there shew'd a danger
How far you durst step for me: give me a true friend;
That where occasion is to do a benefit
Aims at the end, and not the rubs before it;
I was a fool to ask ye this, a more fool
To think a woman had so much noble nature
To entertain a secret of this burthen;
Ye had best to tell the Dutchess I perswaded ye,
That's a fine course, and one will win ye credit;
Forget the name of Cosin, blot my blood out,
And so you raise your self, let me grow shorter.
A woman friend? he that believes that weakness
Steers in a stormy night without a Compass.

Rod. What is't I durst not do might not impeach ye?

Sil. Why this ye dare not do, ye dare not think of.

Rod. 'Tis a main hazard.

Sil. If it were not so
I would not come to you to seek a favour.

Rod. You will lose your self.

Sil. The loss ends with my self then.

Rod. You will but see her?

Sil. Only look upon her.

Rod. Not stay?

Sil. Prescribe your time.

Rod. Not traffique with her
In any close dishonourable action?

Sil. Stand you your self by.

Rod. I will venture for ye,
Because ye shall be sure I am a touch'd friend,
I'll bring her to ye: come walk, you know the Garden,
And take this key to open the little Postern,
There stand no guards.

Sil. I shall soon find it Aunt. [Exeunt.

Scæna Secunda.

Enter two Soldiers.

1 Sold. Is the Captain come home?

2 Sold. No, who commands the Guard to night?

1 Sold. I think Petruchio.

2 Sold. What's the Word?

1 Sold. None knows yet.

2 Sold. I would this Lady were married out o'th'way once,
Or out of our custodies; I wish they would take in more companies,
For I am sure we feel her in our duties shrewdly.

1 Sold. 'Tis not her fault I warrant ye, she is ready for't,
And that's the plague, when they grow ripe for marriage
They must be slipt like Hawkes.

2 Sold. Give me a mean wench,
No State doubt lies on her, she is alwayes ready.

1 Sold. Come to the Guard, 'tis late, and sure the Captain
Can not be long away.

2 Sold. I have watch'd these three nights,
To morrow they may keep me tame for nothing. [Exeunt.

Scæna Tertia.

Enter Silvio, Belvidere, and Rodope with a Light.

Sil. This is the place I think; what Light is that there?
The Lady and my Cosin?

Bel. Is this the Garden?

Rod. Yes Madam.

Sil. Oh my blessed Mistriss,
Saint of my soul.

Bel. Speak softly: take me to ye,
Oh Silvio, I am thine, thine ever Silvio.

Rod. Is this your promise, Sir? Lady your honor?
I am undone if this be seen, disgrac'd,
Fallen under all discredit.

Bel. Do you love still?
Dear, do you keep your old faith?

Sil. Ever Lady;
And when that fails me, all that's good forsake me.

Rod. Do not you shame? Madam, I must not suffer this,
I will not suffer it; men call you virtuous,
What do you mean to lose your self thus; Silvio?
I charge thee get away, I charge you retire ye,
I'll call the Watch else.

Sil. Call all the world to see us,
We live in one anothers happiness,
And so will die.

Bel. Here will I hang for ever.

Rod. As ye respect me, as hereafter Madam
You would enjoy his love—nothing prevail with ye?
I'll try my strength then; get thee gone thou villain,
Thou Promise-breaker.

Sil. I am tide, I cannot.

Rod. I'll ring the Bell then.

Sil. Ring it to death, I am fixt here.

Enter Bartello, two Soldiers with lights.

Bart. I saw a Light over the Garden walk,
Hard by the Ladies Chamber, here's some knavery
As I live, I saw it twice.

Rod. The Guard, the Guard there;
I must not suffer this, it is too mischievous.

Bart. Light up the Torch, I fear'd this, ha? young Silvio?
How got he in?

1 Sold. The Devil brought him in sure
He came not by us.

Bart. My wife between 'em busling?
Guard, pull him off.

Rod. Now, now, ye feel the misery.

Bart. You, Madam, at an hour so far undecent?
Death, O my soul! this is a foul fault in ye,
Your mothers care abus'd too, Light's to her Chamber,
I am sorry to see this.

Bell. Farewel my Silvio,
And let no danger sink thee.

Sil. Nor death Lady. [Exeunt Bell. Rod.

B[a]rt. Are ye so hot? I shall prepare ye Physick
Will purge ye finely, neatly: you are too fiery,
Think of your prayers, Sir, an you have not forgot 'em;
Can ye flie i' th' air, or creep ye in at key-holes?
I have a Gin will catch ye though you conjur'd:
Take him to Guard to night, to strong and sure Guard;
I'll back to th' Dutchess presently: no less sport serve ye,
Than the Heir to a Dukedom? play at push-pin there Sir?
It was well aim'd, but plague upon't, you shot short,
And that will lose your game.

Sil. I know the loss then. [Exeunt.

Scæna Quarta.

Enter Claudio like a Merchant.

Clau. Now, in this habit may I safely see
How my incensed friend carries my murther,
Who little I imagin'd had been wrought
To such a height of rage, and much I grieve now
Mine own blind passion had so master'd me,
I could not see his love, for sure he loves her,
And on a nobler ground than I pretended.

Enter Penurio.

It must be so, it is so; what Penurio,
My shotten friend, what wind blew you?

Pen. Faith 'tis true,
Any strong wind will blow me like a Feather,
I am all Air, nothing of earth within me,
Nor have not had this month, but that good Dinner
Your Worship gave me yesterday, that staies by me,
And gives me ballast, else the Sun would draw me.

Cla. But does my Mistriss speak still of me?

Pen. Yes, Sir,
And in her sleep, that makes my Master mad too,
And turn and fart for anger.

Cla. Art sure she saw me?

Pen. She saw ye at a window.

Cla. 'Tis most true,
In such a place I saw a Gentlewoman,
A young, sweet, handsome woman.

Pen. That's she, that's she Sir.

Cla. And well she view'd me, I view'd her.

Pen. Still she Sir.

Cla. At last she blush'd, and then look'd off.

Pen. That blush, Sir,
If you can read it truly—

Cla. But didst thou tell her,
Or didst thou fool me, thou knew'st such a one?

Pen. I told her, and I told her such a sweet tale—

Cla. But did she hear thee?

Pen. With a thousand ears, Sir,
And swallow'd what I said as greedily,
As great-belly'd women do Cherries, stones and all Sir.

Cla. Methinks she should not love thy Master?

Pen. Hang him Pilcher,
There's nothing loves him: his own Cat cannot endure him,
She had better lye with a Bear, for he is so hairy,
That a tame Warren of Fleas frisk round about him.

Cla. And wilt thou work still?

Pen. Like a Miner for ye.

Cla. And get access.

Pen. Or conjure you together,
'Tis her desire to meet: she is poyson'd with him,
And till she take a sweet fresh air, that's you Sir.

Cla. There's money for thee: thou art a precious Varlet
Be fat, be fat, and blow thy Master backward.

Pen. Blow you my Mistriss, Sir, as flat as a Flounder,
Then blow her up again, as Butchers blow their Veals;
If she dye upon the same
Bury her, bury her in Gods name.

Cla. Thou art a merry knave: by this hand I'll feed thee,
Till thou crack'st at both ends, if thou dar'st do this
Thou shall eat no fantastical Porridge,
Nor lick the dish where oil was yesterday,
Dust, and dead Flies to day; Capons, fat Capons—

Pen. Oh hearty sound.

Cla. Cramb'd full of itching Oysters.

Pen. Will ye have the Dutchess?

Cla. And Lobsters big as Gauntlets,
Thou shalt despise base Beef.

Pen. I do despise it,
And now methinks I feel a Tart come sliding.

Cla. Leaping into thy mouth: but first deal faithfully.

Pen. When will ye come?

Cla. To morrow.

Pen. I'll attend ye,
For then my Master will be out in business.

Cla. What news abroad?

Pen. 'Mas, as I was coming to you,
I heard that Signior Silvio, a good Gentleman,
Many a good meal I have eaten wit[h] him—

Cla. What of him?

Pen. Was this day to be arraigned before the Dutchess,
But why, I could not hear.

Cla. Silvio arraign'd?
Go, get ye gone, and think of me.

Pen. I flie Sir. [Exit Pen.

Cla. Arraign'd? for what? for my supposed death? no,
That cannot be sure, there's no rumor of it,
Be it what it will, I will be there and see it,
And if my help will bring him off, he has it. [Exit.

Scæna Quinta.

Enter Dutchess, Lords, Silvio prisoner, Belvidere, Bartello, Rodope, Clark, Counsellors, Attendants.

Du. Read the Edict last made,
Keep silence there.

Clerk. If any man of what condition soever, and a subject, after the publishing of this Edict, shall without special Licence from the great Dutchess, attempt or buy, offer, or make an attempt, to solicite the love of the Princess Belvidere, the person so offending, shall forfeit his life.

Couns. The reason why my Royal Mistriss here
In her last Treaty with Sien[n]as Duke,
Promis'd her beauteous daughter there in marriage,
The Duke of Milan, rival in this fortune,
Un-nobly sought by practice to betray her;
Which found, and cross'd, the Cittadel receiv'd her
There to secure her Mothers word; the last cause
So many Gentlemen of late enamour'd
On this most beauteous Princess, and not brooking
One more than other, to deserve a favour,
Bloud has been spilt, many brave spirits lost,
And more, unless she had been kept, close from their violence,
Had like to have followed: therefore for due prevention
Of all such hazards and unnoble actions,
This last Edict was published, which thou Silvio
Like a false man, a bad man, and a Traitor
Hast rent a-peeces, and contemn'd, for which cause
Thou standest a guilty man here now.

Enter Claudio.

Clark. Speak Silvio,
What canst thou say to avoid the hand of Justice?

Sil. Nothing, but I confess, submit and lay my head to it.

Bel. Have ye no eyes my Lords, no understandings?
The Gentleman will cast himsel[f] away,
Cast himself wilfully: are you, or you guilty?
No more is he, no more taint sticks upon him:
I drew him thither; 'twas my way betrai'd him,
I got the entrance kept, I entertain'd him,
I hid the danger from him, forced him to me,
Poor gentle soul, he's in no part transgressing,
I wrote unto him.

Sil. Do not wrong that honor,
Cast not upon that pureness these aspersions,
[By Heaven it] was my love, my violence,
My life must answer it: I broke in to her,
Tempted the Law, solicited unjustly.

Bel. As there is truth in Heaven, I was the first cause:
How could this man have come to me, left naked
Without my counsel and provision?
What hour could he find out to pass the Watches,
But I must make it sure first? Reverend Judges,
Be not abus'd, nor let an innocent life lie
Upon your shaking Conscience; I did it,
My love the main wheel that set him a going:
His motion but compell'd.

Sil. Can ye believe this?
And know with what a modesty and whiteness
Her life was ever ranck'd? Can you believe this
And see me here before ye, young and wilful?
Apt to what danger Love dares thrust me on,
And where Law stops my way, apt to contemn it?
If I were bashful, old, or dull, and sleepy
In Loves allarms, a woman might awake me,
Direct, and clew me out the way to happiness:
But I, like fire, kindled with that bright beauty,
Catch hold of all occasions, and run through 'em.

Bel. I charge ye, as your honest souls will answer it.

Sil. I charge ye, as you are the friends to virtue,
That has no pattern living but this Lady.

Bel. Let not his blood—

Sil. Let not her wilfulness—
For then you act a Scene Hell will rejoyce at.

Bel. He is clear.

Sil. She is as white in this as Infants.

Cla. The god of Love protect your cause, and help ye,
Two nobler pieces of affection
These eyes ne'er look'd on, if such goodness perish,
Let never true hearts meet again, but break. [Exit.

1 Lord. A strange exemple of strong love, a rare one.

2 Lord. Madam, we know not what to say, to think on.

Dutch. I must confess it strikes me tender too,
Searches my Mothers heart: you found 'em there?

Bar. Yes certain Madam.

Dutch. And so linked together?

Bar. As they had been one piece of Alablaster.

Dutch. Nothing dishonourable?

Sil. So let my soul have happiness,
As that thought yet durst never seek this bosom.

Dutch. What shall I do? 'has broke my Law, abus'd me,
Fain would I know the truth, either confess it,
And let me understand the main offender,
Or both shall feel the torture.

Sil. Are ye a Mother;
The Mother of so sweet a Rose as this is?
So pure a Flower? and dare ye lose that nature?
Dare ye take to your self so great a wickedness,
(Oh holy Heaven) of thinking what may ruine
This goodly building? this Temple where the gods dwell?
Give me a thousand tortures, I deserve 'em,
And shew me death in all the shapes imagin'd.

Bel. No death but I will answer it, meet it, seek it;
No torture but I'll laugh upon't, and kiss it.

1 Lord. This is no way.

2 Lord. They say no more for certain
Than their strong hearts will suffer.

Dutch. I have bethought me;
No Lords, although I have a Child offending,
Nature dares not forget she is a Child still;
Till now, I never look'd on love imperious:
I have bethought me of a way to break ye,
To separate, though not your loves, your bodies:
Silvio attend, I'll be your Judge my self now,
The sentence of your death (because my Daughter
Will bear an equal part in your afflictions)
I take away and pardon: this remains then
An easie and a gentle punishment,
And this shall be fulfill'd: because unnobly
You have sought the love, and marriage of a Princess,
The absolute and sole Heir of this Dukedom,
By that means, as we must imagine strongly,
To plant your self into this rule hereafter,
We here pronounce ye a man banish'd from us.

Sil. For ever banish'd Lady?

Dutch. Yet more mercy,
But for a year: and then again in this place
To make your full appearance: yet more pitty,
If in that time you can absolve a question,
Writ down within this scrowl, absolve it rightly,
This Lady is your wife, and shall live with ye;
If not, you loose your head.

Sil. I take this honor,
And humbly kiss those Royal hands.

Dutch. Receive it: Bartello, to your old guard take the Princess,
And so the Court break up.

Sil. Farewel to all,
And to that spotless heart my endless service. [Exit.

1 Lord. What will this prove?

2 Lord. I'll tell you a year hence, Sir. [Exeunt.

Scæna Sexta.

Enter Penurio, Isabella, Claudio.

Pen. Are you pleas'd now? have not I wrought this wonder
Non eben fatto Signieur.

Cla. Rarely Penurio.

Pen. Close, close then, and work wax.

Cla. I am studying for thee
A dinner, that shall victual thee for ten year.

Pen. Do you hear Mistriss?
You know what a dundir whelp my Master is,
I need not preach to ye, how unfit and wanting
To give a woman satisfaction:
How he stinks, and snores, a Bull's a better bed-fellow;
And for his love, never let that deceive ye.

Isab. Nay sure he loves me not.

Pen. If he could coyn ye,
Or turn ye into mettal, much might be then;
He loves not any thing but what is traffique:
I have heard him swear he would sell ye to the Grand Signior.

Isab. The Turk?

Pen. The very Turk, and how they would use ye.

Isab. I'll fit him for't: the Turk?

Pen. I know the price too:
Now ye have time to pay him, pay him home Mistriss;
Pay him o' th' pate, clout him for all his courtesies;
Here's one that dances in your eyes, young delicate
To work this vengeance; if ye let it slip now,
There is no pittying of ye, od's precious, Mistriss,
Were I his wife, I would so mall his Mazard,
'Tis charity, meer charity, pure charity,
Are you the first? has it not been from Eves time,
Women would have their safe revenges this way?
And good and gracious women, excellent women;
Is't not a handsome Gentleman? a sweet Gentleman;
View him from head to foot, a compleat Gentleman;
When can ye hope the like again? I leave ye,
And my revenge too, with ye; I know my office,
I'll not be far off, be not long a fumbling,
When danger shall appear, I'll give the 'larme. [Exit.

Isab. You are welcome, Sir, and would it were my fortune
To afford a Gentleman of your fair seeming,
A freer entertainment than this house has,
You partly know, Sir.—

Cla. Know, and pity Lady,
Such sweetness in the bud, should be so blasted;
Dare you make me your Servant?

Isab. Dare you make Sir,
That service worthy of a womans favour
By constancy and goodness?

Cla. Here I swear to ye,
By the unvalued love I bear this beauty,
(And kiss the Book too) never to be recreant,
To honour ye, to truly love, and serve ye,
My youth to wait upon ye, what my wealth has.

Isab. Oh make me not so poor to sell affection,
Those bought loves Sir, wear faster than the moneys;
A handsome Gentleman.

Cla. A most delicate sweet one,
Let my truth purchase then.

Isab. I should first try it,
But you may happily.—

Cla. You shall not doubt me,
I hope she loves me; when I prove false, shame take me;
Will ye believe a little?

Isab. I fear, too much, Sir.

Cla. And will ye love a little?

Isab. That should be your part:

Cla. Thus I begin then, thus and thus.

Isab. A good beginning,
We have a proverb saies, makes a good ending.

Cla. Say ye so? 'tis well inferr'd.

Isab. Good Sir, your patience:
Methinks I have ventur'd now, like a weak Bark
Upon a broken billow, that will swallow me,
Upon a rough Sea of suspitions,
Stuck round with jealous rocks.

Pen. within. A hem, a hem there.

Isab. This is my man; my fears too soon have found me,