Has made himself another evill Angell,
And a new Hell, to which all other torments
Are but mere pastime: Now my noble Lords,
You must excuse me, that unmannerly
We have broke your private business.
I am confident, you cannot loose by it.
The devill is but a fool to a right woman.
such a gracious Lady.
So I may have your helps, never be doubtfull,
For 'tis so just a cause, and will to you
Upon the knowledge seem so honorable,
That I assure my self your willing hearts
Will strait be for me in it.
That's stranger than all Affrick.
The Duke you know is old, and rather subject
To ease and prayers now, than all those troubles,
Cares, and continuall watchings, that attend
A Kingdomes safety, therefore to prevent
The fall of such a flourishing Estate
As this has [ever] been, and to put off
The murmure of the people that encrease
Against my government, which the gods knows
I onely feel the trouble of: I present
The Prince unto your loves, a Gent.
In whom all Excellencies are knit together,
All peeces of a true man, let your prayers
Win from the Duke half his Vexation,
That he may undertake it, whose discretion
I must confess, though it be from the Father,
Yet now is stronger, and more apt to govern.
'Tis not my own desire, but all the Lands,
I know the weakeness of it.
For ever to your lives, we'll to the King,
And since your Grace has put it in our mouths,
We'll win him with the cunning'st words we can.
For commonly they are like Apples: If once they bruise
They will grow rotten thorow, and serve for nothing but to
asswage swellings.
Pleasures to think my counsell good, and by no means
Let the Prince know it, whose affections
Will stir mainly against it: besides his Father
May hold him dangerous, if it be not carried
So that his forward will appear not in it,
Go, and be happy.
Wilt be for a good woman, for all the world.
Nothing but happiness can crown our prayers. [Exeunt.
Actus Quart[us]. Scæna Prima.
Enter Leucippus, Ismenus.
Leu.
And thus she has us'd me, is't not a good mother?
Ismenus. Why kill'd you her not?
Leu. The gods forbid it.
Ismenus. S'light, if all the women i'th' world were barren, shee had dy'd.
Leuc. But 'tis not reason directs thee thus.
Directs me: Your Father's in a pretty rage.
Leucippus. Why?
Ismenus. Nay, 'tis well, if he know himself, but some of the Nobility have deliver'd a petition to him: what's in't, I know not, but it has put him to his trumps: he has taken a months time to answer it, and chafes like himself.
Enter Leontius, Bacha, and Tellamon.
Leu. He's here Ismenus.
Leon. Set me down Tellamon. Leucippus.
Leu. Sir.
Bach. Nay good Sir, be at peace, I dare swear he kn[ew] not of it.
Leon. You are foolish: peace.
Bach. All will go ill, deny it boldly Sir, trust me he cannot prove it by you.
Look on it well: wouldst thou be joyn'd with me
(Unnaturall child to be weary of me)
E'r Fate esteem me fit for other worlds.
Sir, as I have hope that there is any thing
To reward doing well, my usages
Which have been (but 'tis no matter what)
Have put me so far from the thought of Greatness,
That I should welcome it like a disease
That grew upon me, and I could not cure.
They are my enemies that gave you this,
And yet they call me friend, and are themselves
I fear abus'd. I am weary of my life,
For Gods sake take it from me: it creates
More mischief in the State than it is worth,
The usage I have had, I know would make
Wisdom her self run frantick through the streets,
And Patience quarrel with her shadow.
Sir, this sword—
Make way through me first, for he is your Father.
That I would kill my Father, that can yet
Forbear to kill you? Here Sir, is my sword;
I dare not touch it, lest she say again
I would have kill'd you: let me not have mercy
When I most need it, if I would not change
Place with my meanest servant. Let these faults
Be mended Madam: if you saw how ill
They did become you, you would part with them.
Nurst in you by your youth, provok'd you thus,
Which age would take away.
If any one had us'd a friend of mine [nere] this,
My hand had carried death about it.
Bacha, I shall find time for this.
The King; but you know well, if not, I'll tell [it] you,
You are the most wicked'st, and most murderous
Strumpet, that ever was call'd Woman.
All this to pass, else I should bear my self.
Enter Urania.
Isme. Look, doe you see who's there? your virtuous Mothers issue: kill her, yet take some little pidling revenge.
Leu. Away, the whole Court calls her virtuous; for they say, she is unlike her Mother, and if so, she can have no vice.
Ism. I'll trust none of 'em that come of such a breed.
A kind of love in her to me: alas,
Think of her death! I dare be sworn for her,
She is as free from any hate to me
As her bad Mother's full. She was brought up
I'th' Countrey, as her tongue will let you know
Enter Urania.
Such as her Mother had.
Ism. She's come again.
Ura. I would fene speak to the good Marquess my brother, if I but thought he could abaid me.
Leu. Sister, how do you?
Ura. Very well I thank you.
Ism. How does your good Mother?
Leu. Fie, fie, Ismenus for shame, mock such an innocent soul as this.
Ura. Feth a she be no good, [G]od may her so.
Leu. I know you wish it with your heart dear Sister, but she is good I hope.
Do you not know,
That all her wicked Mother labours for, is but to raise
Her to your right, and leave her this Dukedom?
For though she take th' ungain'st weas she can,
I'll ne'er ha't fro' you.
If I should think of her simplicity,
Ought but extreamly well.
If she take any caurse to do you wrong,
If I can see't, youst quickly hear on't Sir:
And so I'll take my leave.
Enter Timantus.
It were no hard matter now, for her Mother to send her:
Yonder's one you may trust if you will too.
Of truth as she did; Does he weep Ismenus?
Do you hear, you? What honest man has scap'd misery, that
[you are] crying thus?
If I were as I was.
My conscience tells me I have injur'd you,
And by the earnest instigation
Of others, have not done you to the King
Always the best and friendliest offices;
Which pardon me, or I will never speak.
The dangers you are led to; shame upon her,
And what fell miseries the gods can think on
Shower down upon her wicked head, she has plotted
I know too well your death: would my poor life
Or thousand[s] such as mine is, might be offer'd
Like sacrifices up for your preserving,
What free oblations would she have to glut her,
But she is merciless, and bent to ruin;
If heaven and good men step not to your rescue,
And timely, very timely: Oh this Dukedom!
I weep, I weep for the poor Orphans i'th' Countrey
Left with but Friends or Parents.
This was a lying knave, a flatterer,
Does not this Love still shew him so.
The cunning'st rankest rogue that ever Canted,
I'll never see man again: I know him to bring,
And can interpret every new face he makes;
Look how he wrings like a good stool for a tear:
Take heed, Children and Fools
First feel the smart, Then weep.
Is worse than a dissembling, if it be one,
And sooner leads to mischief, I believe it,
And him an honest man: he could not carry
Under an evil cause, so true a sorrow.
That carries stings even in his tears,
Whose soul is a rank poison through: Touch
Not at him, if you do, you are gone, if you had twenty
Lives: I knew him for a Roguish boy, when
He would poison Dogs, and keep tame Toads,
He lay with his Mother, and infected her, and now
She begs i'th' Hospital, with a patch of Velvet,
Where her Nose stood: like the Queen of Spades.
And all her teeth in her purse, the Devil and this
Fellow are so near, 'Tis not yet known which is the eviler Angel.
Hast thou not heard the cause yet that incens'd my Mother
to my death, for I protest I feel none in my self?
Are the provokers of it, as in Women,
Those two are ever powerful to destruction,
Beside a hate of your still growing virtues,
She being only wicked.
And ever have been from all immoderate thoughts and
Actions, that carry such rewards along w[i]th 'em.
My Countrey and my Love command it from me,
For whom I'll lay my life down: this night coming,
A Counsel is appointed by the Duke,
To sit about your apprehension:
If you dare trust my faith: which by all good things
Shall ever watch about you: goe along,
And to a place I'll guide you: where no word
Shall scape without your hearing, nor no plot
Without discovering to you, which once known, you have your
answers and prevention.
Ism. You are not so mad to goe; shift off this fellow, you shall be rul'd once by a wise man: Ratsbane get you gone, or—
Leu. Peace, peace for shame, thy love is too suspitious, 'tis a way offer'd to preserve my life, and I will take it: be my Guide Timantus and do not mind this angry man, thou know'st him: I may live to requite thee.
Tim. Sir, this service is done for virtues sake, not for reward, however he may hold me.
Ism. The great pox on you: but thou hast that curse so much, 'twill grow a blessing in thee shortly. Sir, for wisdoms sake court not your death, I am your friend and subject, and I shall lose in both: if I lov'd you not, I would laugh at you, and see you run your neck into the noose, and cry a Woodcock.
Leu. So much of man, and so much fearful; fie, prethee have peace within thee: I shall live yet many a golden day to hold thee here dearest and nearest to me: Go on Timantus, I charge you by your love no more, no more. [Exeunt Leu. Tim.
I pity you. And dog, if he miscarry thou shalt pay for't,
I'll study for thy punishment, and it shall last
Longer and sharper than a tedious Winter,
Till thou blasphem'st, and then thou diest and damn'st. [Exit.
Enter Leontius and Tellamon.
But there is something leaden at her heart;
(Pray God it be not mortal) that even keeps her
From conversation with her self.
Enter the Dutchess.
Fortune, Fate, and you whose powers direct our actions,
And dwell within us: you that are Angels
Guiding to virtue, wherefore have you given
So strong a hand to evil? wherefore suffer'd
A Temple of your own, you Deities
Where your fair selves dwelt only, and your goodness
Thus to be soyl'd with sin?
From whence comes this distemper? speak my fair one.
You[r] ever faithful Servants to imploy
In this strange story of impiety,
But me a Mother; Must I be your strumpet?
To lay black Treason upon, and in him,
In whom all sweetness was: in whom my love
Was [proud] to have a Being, in whom Justice,
And all the gods for our imaginations
Can work into a man, were more than virtues,
Ambition down to hell, where thou wert foster'd,
Thou hast poison'd the best soul, the purest, whitest,
And meerest innocent'st it self that ever
Mens greedy hopes gave life to.
Open to my correction.
Breeds in my blood!
Beside my death, the curses of the Countrey,
Troubles of conscience, and a wretched end,
Bring thee unto a poor forgotten grave.
Cease, a Mother! some good man that dares
Speak for his King and Countrey: I am full
Of too much womans pity: yet oh Heaven,
Since it concerns the safety of my Sovereign,
Let it not be a cruelty in me,
Nor draw a Mothers name in question,
Amongst unborn people, to give up that man
To Law and Justice, that unrighteously
Has sought his Fathers death: be deaf: be deaf Sir,
Your Son is the offender: Now have you all,
Would I might never speak again.
No more! I thought it, and since
His life is grown so dangerous: Let them that
Gave him, take him: he shall dye,
And with him all my fears.
To bestow it on. I'll forgive him, Sir; and for his
Wrong to me, I'll be before ye.
Somewhat beyond a Son: and still pursu'd it
With such a Lust, I will not say Ambition:
That clean forgetting all obedience,
And only following his first heat unto me,
He hotly sought your death, and me in Marriage.
To press a man so far.
Enter Timantus.
Sends new affrights forth: what wouldst thou? speak.
To thee, and boldly speak, where are the Guard?
In the gods name, out with it:
You o'the Guard, look to the door there.
Against so good a Duke, for Gods sake, Sir,
Seek means to save your self; This wretched slave
Has his sword in his hand, I know his heart:
Oh it hath almost kill'd me with the thought of it.
Enter the Guard, and bring him in.
Look to your selves for Heavens sake,
Me thinks he is here already.
Fellows of the Guard be valiant.
Never dare me in mine own Gates.
They're happy that end their daies contented
With a little, and live aloof from dangers, to a King
Every content doth a new peril bring.
Oh let me live no longer, shame of Nature,
Bastard to Honor: Traytor, Murderer,
Devil in a humane shape. Away with him,
He shall not breathe his hot [inf]ection here.
To a close prison: your Highness now shall know,
Such branches must be cropt before they grow.
My innocency is my Armor: gods preserve you. [Exit.
Would I could weep out his offences.
About his death: we cannot be too forward in our
Safety: I am very sick, lead me unto my bed. [Exeunt.
Enter Citizen and his Boy.
Cit. Sirrah, goe fetch my Fox from the Cutlers: There's money for the scowring: Tell him I stop a groat since the last great Muster: he had in stone Pitch for the bruise: he took with the recoyling of his Gun.
Boy. Yes Sir.
Cit. And do you hear? when you come, Take down my Buckler, and sweep the Cobwebs off: and grind the pick o[n']t, and fetch a Nail or two: and tack on bracers: your Mistriss made a pot-lid ont't, I thank her, at her Ma[yd]s Wedding, and burnt off the Handle.
Boy. I will Sir. [Exit.
Cit. Who's within here, hoe Neighbor, not stirring yet?
2 Cit. Oh, good morrow, good morrow: what news, what news?
1 Cit. It holds, he dies this morning.
2 Cit. Then happy man be his fortune, I am resolv'd.
1 Cit. And so am I, and forty more good fellows, That will not give their heads for the washing, I take it.
2 Cit. 'Sfoot man, who would not hang in such good company, and such a cause? A Fire, a Wife and Children; 'Tis such a jest that men should look behind 'em to the world: and let their honors, their honors neighbor, slip.
1 Cit. I'll give thee a pint of Bastard and a Roll for that bare word.
another, and our Geese hatch us: I'll make some of 'em feel
they are Geese o'th' game then.
I'fack, take down my Bill, 'tis ten to one I use it. Take a
good heart man, all the low ward is ours, with a wet finger.
An[d] lay my cut-fing'red Gantlet ready for me,
That, that I us'd to work in, when the Gentl. were
Up against us, and beaten out of Town, and almost out o'
Debt too: for a plague on 'em they never paid well since:
And take heed sirrah, your Mistriss hears not of this
Business, she's near her time: yet if she do,
I care not, she may long for Rebellion,
For she has a devilish spirit.
tough as steel, and has a fine wit in these resurrections;
Are you stirring neighbor?
3. Within. Oh, Good morrow neighbors, I'll come to you presently.
2. Goe to, this is his Mothers doing; she's a Polecat.
1. As any is in the world.
2. Then say, I have hit it, and a vengeance on her, let her be what she will.
1. Amen say I, she has brought things to a fine pass with her wisdom: do you mark it?
2. One thing I am sure she has, the good old Duke, she gives him pap again they say, and dandles him, and hangs a corral and bells about his neck, and makes him believe his teeth will come agen; which if they did, and I he, I would worry her as never Curr was worried: I would neighbor, till my teeth met I know where, but that's counsel.
Enter [third] Citizen.
3. Good morrow neighbors: hear you the sad news?
1. Yes, would we knew as well how to prevent it.
3. I cannot tell, methinks 'twere no great matter, if men were men: but—
2. You do not twit me with my calling neighbor?
3. No surely: for I know your spirit to be tall; pray be not vext.
2. Pray forward with your counsel: I am what I am, and they that prove me shall find me to their cost: do you mark me neighbor, to their cost I say.
1. Nay, look how soon you are angry!
2. They shall neighbors: yes, I say they shall.
3. I do believe they shall.
1. I know they shall.
I am no beast, I know mine own strength neighbors;
God bless the King, your companies is fair.
1. Nay neighbor, now ye erre, [I] tell you so, and ye [were] twenty Neighbors.
3. You had best goe peach, doe, peach.
2. Peach; I scorn the motion.
3. Doe, and see what follows: I'll spend an hundred pound, and be two I care not: but I'll undoe thee.
2. Peach, Oh disgrace! Peach in thy face, and doe the worst thou canst: I am a true-man, and a free-man: peach!
1. Nay, look, you will spoil all.
2. Peach!
1. Whilst you two brawl together, the Prince will lose his life.
3. Come, give me your hand, I love you well, are you for the action?
2. Yes: but Peach provokes me, 'tis a cold fruit, I feel it cold in my stomach still.
3. No more, I'll give you Cake to digest it.
Enter the Fourth.
4. Shut up my shop, and be ready at a call boys, and one of you run over my old tuck with a few ashes, 'tis grown odious with tosting Cheese: and burn a little Juniper in my Murrin, the Maid made it her Chamber-pot: an hour hence I'll come again; and as you hear from me, send me a clean shirt.
3. The Chandler by th[e] Wharf, and it be thy Will.
2. Gossip, good morrow.
4. Oh good morrow Gossip: good morrow all, I see ye of one mind you cleave so close together: come 'tis time, I have prepared [a] hundred if they stand.
1. 'Tis well done: shall we sever, and about it?
3. First, let's to the Tavern, and a pint a piece will make us Dragons.
2. I will have no mercy, come what will of it.
4. If my tuck hold, I'll spit the Guard like Larks with sage between 'em.
2. I have a foolish Bill to reckon with 'em, will make some of their hearts ake, and I'll lay it on: now shall I fight, 'twill do you good to see me.
3. Come, I'll do something for the Town to talk of when I am rotten: pray God there be enough to kill, that's all. [Exeunt.
Enter Dorialus, Nisus, Agenor.
Age. How black the day begins!
Dor. Can you blame it, and look upon such a deed as shall be done this morning?
Nis. Does the Prince suffer to day?
Dor. Within this hour they say.
Agen. Well, they that are most wicked are most safe: 'twill be a strange justice, and a lamentable, gods keep us from the too soon feeling of it.
Doria. I care not if my throat were next: for to live still, and live here, were but to grow [f]at for the Shambles.
Nis. Yet we must do it, and thank 'em too, that our lives may be accepted.
Age. Faith I'll go starve [my] self, or grow diseas'd to shame the hangman; for I am sure he shall be my Herald, and quarter me.
Dor. I, a plague on him, he's too excellent at Arms.
Nisus. Will you go see this sad sight, my Lord Agenor?
Age. I'll make a mourner.
The bare sight else will but afflict my spirit,
My prayers shall be as near him as your eyes:
As you find him setled, remember my love and service to his Grace.
Thou angry power, whether of Heaven or Hell,
Thou laist this sharp correction on our Kingdom
For our offences, infinite and mighty!
Oh hear me, and at length be pleas'd, be pleas'd
With pity to draw back thy vengeance,
Too heavy for our weakness; and accept,
(Since it is your discretion, heavenly Wisdoms,
To have it so) this sacrifice for all,
That now is flying to your happiness,
Only for you most fit: let all our sins suffer in him. [A shout within.
Gods, what's the matter? I hope 'tis joy;
How now my Lords?
Enter Agenor and Nisus.
More joy than you dare think, The Prince is safe from danger.
To lose his life, he ready for the stroke,
Nobly, and full of Saint-like patience,
Went with his Guard: which when the people saw,
Compassion first went out, mingled with tears,
That bred desires, and whispers to each other,
To do some worthy kindness for the Prince,
And e'r they understood well how to do,
Fury stept in, and taught them what to do,
Thrusting on every hand to rescue him,
As a white innocent: then flew the roar
Through all the streets, of Save him, save him, save him:
And as they cry'd, they did; for catching up
Such sudden weapons as their madness shew them
In short, they beat the Guard, and took him from 'em,
And now march with him like a royal Army.
What a slave was I to have my hand so far from
This brave rescue, 't 'ad been a thing to brag on
When I was old. Shall we run for a wager to the
Next Temple, and give thanks?
Enter Leucippus and Ismenus: the people within stops.
Leu. Good friends goe home again, there's not a man shall goe with me.
Isme. Will you not take revenge? I'll call them on.
I thank you, and will serve you for your loves:
But I will thank you more to suffer me
To govern 'em: once more, I do beg ye,
For my sake to your houses.
All within. Gods preserve you.
Ism. And what house will you goe to?
Leu. Ismenus, I will take the wariest courses that I can think of to defend my self, but not offend.
Isme. You may kill your Mother, and never offend your Father, an honest man.
Leu. Thou know'st I can scape now, that's all I look for: I'll leave.
Isme. Timantus, a pox take him, would I had him here, I would kill him at his own weapon single, sithes we have built enough on him: plague on't, I'm out of all patience: discharge such an Army as this, that would have followed you without paying, Oh gods!
Leu. To what end should I keep 'em? I am free.
Isme. Yes, free o'th' Traitors, for you are proclaim'd one.
Leu. Should I therefore make my self one?