Enter Duke.
Long. The choisest fortunes wait upon our Duke.
Ser. And give him all content and happiness.
Bew. Let his great name live to the end of time.
Duke. We thank you, and are pleas'd to give you notice
We shall at fitter times wait on your Loves,
Till when, be near Us.
Longv. 'Tis a valiant purge, and works extreamly;
'Thas delivered him
Of all Right worshipful and gentle humors,
And left his belly full of nobleness.
Du. It pleased the King my Master,
For sundry vertues not unknown to him,
And the all-seeing state, to lend his hand,
And raise me to this Eminence, how this
May seem to other Men, or stir the minds
Of such as are my fellow Peers, I know not,
I would desire their loves in just designs.
Wife. Now by my faith he does well, very well:
Beshrew my heart I have not seen a better,
Of a raw fellow, that before this day
Never rehearst his state: 'tis marvellous well.
Ser. Is he not Duke indeed, see how he looks
As if his spirit were a last, or two
Above his veins, and stretcht his noble hide.
Long. Hee's high-brac't like a Drum, pray God he break not.
Bew. Why let him break, there's but a Calves-skin lost.
Long. May it please your Grace to see the City,
'Twill be to the minds and much contentment
Of the doubtful people.
Du. I am determin'd so, till my return
I leave my honour'd Dutchess to her chamber.
Be careful of your health, I pray you be so.
Ser. Your Grace shall suffer us your humble servants
To give attendance, fit so great a person
Upon your body.
Du. I am pleased so.
Long. Away good Bewford, raise a guard sufficient
To keep him from the reach of Tongues, be quick;
And do you hear, remember how the streets
Must be dispos'd with, for cries, and salutations.
Your Grace determines not to see the King—
Du. Not yet, I shall be ready ten dayes hence
To kiss his Highness hand, and give him thanks,
As it is fit I should for his great bounty.
Set forward Gentlemen.
Groom. Room for the Duke there. [Exeunt Duke and Train.
Wife. 'Tis fit he should have room to shew his mightiness,
He swells so with his poyson,
'Tis better to reclaim ye thus, than make
A sheeps-head of you, It had been but your due;
But I have mercy Sir, and mean to reclaim you
By a directer course.
That Woman is not worthy of a Soul
That has the sovereign power to rule her husband,
And gives her title up, so long provided
As there be fair play, and his state not wrong'd.
Enter Shattillion.
Shat. I would be glad to know whence this new Duke springs,
The people buz abroad; or by what title
He receiv'd his dignity, 'tis very strange
There should be such close jugling in the State,
But I am ty'd to silence, yet a day
May come, and soon to perfect all these doubts.
Wife. It is the mad Shattillion by my Soul,
I suffer much for this poor Gentleman;
I'll speak to him, may be he yet knows me.
Monsieur Shattilion.
Shat. Can you give me reason from whence
This great Duke sprang that walks abroad?
Wife. Even from the King himself.
Shot. As you are a Woman, I think you may be cover'd?
Yet your prayer would do no harm good Woman.
Wife. God preserve him.
Enter Shattillions Love.
Shat. I say Amen, and so say all good Subjects.
Love. Lady, as ever you have lov'd, or shall,
As you have hope of heaven lend your hand,
And wit, to draw this poor distracted man
Under your roofe, from the broad eyes of people,
And wonder of the streets.
Wife. With all my heart;
My feeling of his grief and loss is much.
Love. Sir, now you are come so near the prison, will ye
Goe in, and visit your fair Love: poor soul
She would be glad to see you.
Shat. This same Duke is but
Apocryphal, there's no creation
That can stand where titles are not right.
Lov. 'Tis true, Sir.
Shat. That is another draught upon my life;
Let me examine well the words I spake.
The words I spake were, that this novel Duke
Is not o'th' true making, 'tis to me most certain.
Wife. You are as right, Sir, as you went by line.
Shat. And to the grief of many thousands more.
Wife. If there be any such, God comfort them.
Shat. Whose mouths may open when the time shall please;
I'm betray'd, commend me to the King,
And tell him I am sound, and crave but justice;
You shall not need to have your guard upon me,
Which I am sure are plac'd for my attachment;
Lead on; I'm obedient to my bonds.
Lov. Good Sir be not displeased with us;
We are but servants to his Highness will,
To make that good.
Shat. I do forgive you even with my heart;
Shall I entreat a favor?
Wife. Any thing.
Shat. To see my love before that fatal stroak,
And publish to the world my christian death,
And true obedience to the Crown of France.
Lov. I hope it shall not need Sir, for there is mercy
As well as Justice in his Royal heart. [Exeunt.
Enter three Gentlemen.
1 Gent. Every man take his corner, here am I,
You there, and you in that place, so be perfect,
Have a great care your cries be loud; and faces
Full of dejected fear and humbleness.
He comes.
Enter Jaques.
Ja. Fye, how these streets are charg'd and swell'd
With these same rascally people! give more room,
Or I shall have occasion to distribute
A martial almes amongst you; as I am a Gentleman
I have not seen such rude disorder,
They follow him like a prize, there's no true gaper
Like to your Citizen, he will be sure
The Beares shall not pass by his door in peace,
But he and all his family will follow.
Room there afore: Sound:
Enter Duke and his company.
Ja. Give room, and keep your places,
you may see enough; keep your places.
Long. These people are too far unmanner'd, thus
To stop your Graces way with multitudes.
Du. Rebuke them not, good Monsieur, 'tis their loves
Which I will answer, if it please my stars
To spare me life and health.
2 Gen. Bless your Grace.
Du. And you with all my heart.
1 Gen. Now heaven preserve your happy dayes:
Du. I thank you too.
3. Gen. Now Heaven save your Grace;
Du. I thank you all.
Bew. On there before.
Du. Stand Gentlemen, stay yet a while.
For I am minded to impart my love
To these good people, and my friends,
Whose love and prayers for my greatness,
Are equal in abundance, note me well,
And with my words; my heart? for as the Tree—
Long. Your Grace had best beware, 'twill be inform'd
Your greatness with the people.
Duke. I had more,
My honest, and ingenious people.—But
The weight of business hath prevented me.
I am call'd from you: but this tree I spake of
Shall bring forth fruit, I hope, to your content,
And so I share my bowels amongst you all.
Omnes. A noble Duke, a very noble Duke.
Enter a Gentleman.
Ser. Afore there Gentlemen.
Gen. You'r faithfully met good Monsieur Mount Marine.
Ser. Be advis'd, the time is alter'd.
Gen. Is he not the same man he was afore?
Duke. Still the same man to you, Sir.
Long. You have received mighty Grace, be thankful.
Gen. Let me not dye in ignorance;
Long. You shall not.
Then know, the King out of his love, hath pleas'd
To stile him Duke of Burgundy.
Gen. O great Duke,
Thus low, I plead for pardon, and desire
To be enrol'd amongst your poorest slaves.
Du. Sir, you have mercy, and withal my hand,
From henceforth let me call you one of mine.
Ser. Make room afore there, and dismiss the people.
Du. Every Man to his house in peace and quiet.
Peop. Now heaven preserve the Duke, heaven bless the Duke. [Exeunt Omnes.
Enter Wife.
Wife. This Letter came this morn from my Cosin
To the great Lady, high and mighty Duchess
Of Burgundy, be these delivered. Oh,
For a stronger lace to keep my breath
That I may laugh the nine days till the wonder
Fall to an ebb: the high and mighty Duchess?
The high and mighty God? what a stile is this!
Methinks it goes like a Duchy lope-man,
A ladder of 100 rounds will fail
To reach the top on't: well my gentle Cosin
I know by these contents, your itch of honor;
You must to the Court you say, and very shortly:
You shall be welcome; and if your wife have wit
I'll put her in a thriving course, if not
Her own sin on her own head, not a blot
Shall stain my reputation, only this
I must for healths sake sometimes make an ass
Of the tame moil my Husband; 'twill do him good,
And give him fresher brains, Me fresher bloud.
Now for the noble Duke, I hear him coming.
Enter Duke, his train.
Your Grace is well return'd.
Duke. As well as may be:
Never in younger health, never more able:
I mean to be your bed-fellow this night,
Let me have good encounter.
Bew. Bless me heaven
What a hot meat this greatness is!
Long. It may be so,
For I'll be sworn he hath not got a snap
This two months on my knowledge, or her woman
Is damn'd for swearing it.
Duke. I thank you Gentlemen for your attendance
And also your great pains, pray know my Lodgings
Better and oftner, do so Gentlemen.
Now by my honor, as I am a Prince,
I speak sincerely, know my lodgings better,
And be not strangers, I shall see your service
And your deservings, when you least expect.
Om. We humbly thank your grace for this great favor.
Du. Jaques?
Jaq. Your Grace.
Du. Be ready for the Countrey,
And let my Tenants know the Kings great love:
Say I would see them, but the weight at Court
Lies heavy on my shoulders: let them know
I do expect their duties in attendance
Against the next feast, wait for my coming
To take up Post-horse, and be full of speed. [Exit Jaq.
Wife. I would desire your Grace—
Du. You shall desire, and have your
Full desire: sweet Duchess speak.
Wife. To have some conference with a Gentleman
That seems not altogether void of reason.
He talks of Titles, and things near the Crown,
And knowing none so fit as your [good] Grace,
To give the difference in such points of State—
Du. What is he? if he be noble, or have any part
That's worthy our converse, we do accept him.
Wife. I can assure your Grace, his strain is noble,
But he's very subtle.
Duke. Let him be so.
Let him have all the brains, I shall demonstrate
How this most Christian Crown of France can bear
No other shew of Title than the Kings.
I will go in and meditate for half an hour,
And then be ready for him presently,
I will convert him quickly, or confound him.
Serv. Is mad Shattillion here?
Wife. Is here, and's Lady,
I prethee servant fetch him hither.
Serv. Why, what do you mean to put him to?
Wife. To chat with the mad lad my Husband;
'Twill be brave to hear them speak, babble,
Stare, and prate.
Bew. But what shall be the end of all this, Lady?
Enter Shattillion and Lady.
Wife. Leave that to me, now for the grand dispute,
For see, here comes Shattillion: as I live, methinks
All France should bear part of his griefs.
Long. I'll fetch my Lord the Duke.
Shat. Where am I now, or whether will you lead me?
To my death? I crave my priviledge,
I must not dye, but by just course of Law.
Serv. His Majesty hath sent by me your pardon,
He meant not you should dye; but would intreat you
To lay the full state of your Title open,
Unto a grave and Noble Gentleman.
Enter Duke and Longovile.
The Duke of Burgundy who here doth come,
Who, either by his wisdom will confute you,
Or else inform and satisfie the King.
Bew. May't please your grace, this is the Gentleman.
Duke. Is this he that chops Logick with my Liege?
Shat. D'ye mock me? you are great, the time will come,
When you shall be as much contemn'd as I,
Where are the antient compliments of France,
The upstarts brave the Princes of the bloud?
Duke. Your Title Sir, in short.
Shat. He must Sir,
Be a better States-man than your self, that can
Trip me in any thing, I will not speak
Before these witnesses.
Duke. Depart the room, for none shall stay,
No, not my dearest Duchess.
Wife. We'll stand behind the Arras and hear all. [Exeunt.
Duke. In that chair take your place, I in this,
Discourse your Title now.
Shat. Sir, you shall know,
My Loves true Title, mine by Marriage,
Setting aside the first race of French Kings,
Which will not here concern us, as Pharamond,
With Clodian, Meroveus, and Chilperick,
And to come down unto the second Race,
Which we will likewise slip—
Duke. But take me with you.
Shat. I pray you give me leave, of Martel Charles,
The Father of King Pippin, who was, Sire
To Charles the Great, and famous Charlemain.
And to come to the third Race of French Kings,
Which will not be greatly pertinent in this cause,
Betwixt the King and me, of which you know
HUGH CAPET was the first,
Next his Son Robert, Henry then, and Philip
With Lewis, and his Son a Lewis too,
And of that name the Seventh, but all this
Springs from a Female, as it shall appear.
Duke. Now give me leave, I grant you this your Title
At the first sight, carries some shew of truth;
But if ye weigh it well, ye shall find light.
Is not his Majesty possest in peace,
And justice executed in his name,
And can you think the most Christian King
Would do this if he saw not reason for it?
Shat. But had not the Tenth Lewis a sole Daughter?
Duke. I cannot tell.
Shat. But answer me directly.
Duke. It is a most seditious question.
Shat. Is this your justice?
Duke. I stand for my King.
Shat. Was ever Heir-apparant thus abus'd?
I'll have your head for this.
Duke. Why, do your worst.
Shat. Will no one stir to apprehend this Traitor?
A guard about my person, will none come?
Must my own royal hands perform the deed?
Then thus I do arrest you.
Duke. Treason, help.
Enter Wife, Long. Bew. and Serv.
Wife. Help, help, my Lord and Husband.
Duke. Help the Duke.
Long. Forbear his grace's person.
Shat. Forbear you to touch him that
Your Heir-apparent weds,
But by this hand, I will have all your heads. [Exit.
Serv. How doth your Grace?
Duke. Why? well.
Serv. How do you find his Title?
Duke. 'Tis a dangerous one,
As can come by a female.
Serv. I, 'tis true,
But the Law Salique cuts him off from all.
Long. I do beseech your Grace, how stands his Title?
Duke. Pew, nothing; the Law Salique cuts him off from all.
Wife. My gracious Husband, you must now prepare,
In all your Graces pomp to entertain
Your Cosin, who is now a convertite,
And follows here, this night he will be here.
Duke. Be ready all in haste, I do intend,
To shew before my Cosin's wondring face,
The greatness of my pomp, and of my place. [Exeunt omnes.
Enter Cosin and his Wife.
Cos. Sirrah, is all things carried to the Tailor?
The measure, and the fashion of the Gown,
With the best trim?
Man. Yes Sir, and 'twill be ready within this two days.
Cos. For my self I care not,
I have a suit or two of antient Velvet;
Which with some small correcting and addition,
May steal into the presence.
Wife. Would my Gown were ready; Husband, I'll lay my life,
To make you something e'r to morrow night.
Cos. It must not be
Before we see the Duke, and have advice,
How to behave our selves: lets in the while,
And keep our selves from knowledge, till time shall call us.
Enter Long. and Bew.
Long. I much admire the fierce masculine spirit,
Of this dread Amazon.
Bew. This following night I'll have a wench in solace.
Long. Sir, I hear you,
And will be with you if I live, no more.
Enter Maria.
Ma. My Lady would intreat your presence, Gentlemen.
Bew. We will obey your Lady, she is worthy.
Long. You, light alone, a word, or two.
Ma. Your Will, Sir.
Long. Hark in your ear; wilt thou be married? speak, wilt thou marry?
Ma. Married? to whom Sir?
Long. To a proper fellow, landed, and able bodied.
Ma. Why do you flout me, Sir?
Long. I swear I do not; I love thee for thy Ladies sake, be free?
Ma. If I could meet such matches as you speak of,
I were a very child to lose my time, Sir.
Long. What saist thou to Monsieur Bewford?
Ma. Sir, I say he's a proper Gentleman, and far
Above my means to look at.
Long. Dost thou like him?
Ma. Yes Sir, and ever did.
Long. He is thine own.
Ma. You are too great in promises.
Long. Be rul'd, and follow my advice, he shall be thine.
Ma. Would you would make it good, Sir.
Long. Do but thus,
Get thee a cushion underneath thy cloaths,
And leave the rest to me.
Ma. I'll be your scholar,
I cannot lose much by the venture sure.
Long. Thou wilt lose a pretty maidenhead, my rogue,
Or I am much o'th' bow hand, you'll remember
If all this take effect, who did it for you,
And what I may deserve for such a kindness.
Ma. Yours Sir. [Exeunt.
Enter Jaques and Shattillion severally.
Jaq. Save ye Sir.
Shat. Save the King.
Jaq. I pray you Sir, which is the nearest way.
Shat. Save the King, this is the nearest way.
Jaq. Which is the nearest way to the Post-house?
Shat. God save the King and his Post-house.
Jaq. I pray Sir direct me to the house.
Shat. Heaven save the King, you cannot catch me, Sir.
Jaq. I do not understand you, Sir.
Shat. You do not, I say you cannot catch me, Sir.
Jaq. Not catch you, Sir?
Shat. No Sir, nor can the King,
With all his stratagems, and his forced tricks,
Although he put his Nobles in disguise;
Never so oft to sift into my words,
By course of Law, lay hold upon my life.
Jaq. It is business that my Lord the Duke
Is by the King imployed in, and he thinks
I am acquainted with it.
Shat. I shall not need to rip the cause up,
From the first, to you,
But if his Majesty had suffer'd me
To marry her, though she be after him,
The right heir general to the Crown of France.
I would not have convey'd her into Spain,
As it was thought, nor would I e'er have joyn'd,
With the reformed Churches, to make them,
Stand for my cause.
Jaq. I do not think you would.
Shat. I thank you Sir,
And since I see you are a favourer
Of virtues, kept in bondage;
Tell directly to my soveraign King,
For so I will acknowledge him for ever,
How you have found my staid affections
Setled for peace, and for the present state.
Jaq. Why Sir?
Shat. And good Sir, tell him further this,
That notwithstanding all suggestions
Brought to him against me, and all his suspitions,
Which are innumerable to my treasons,
If he will warrant me but publique trial,
I'll freely yeild my self into his hands;
Can he have more than this?
Jaq. No by my troth.
Shat. I would his Majesty would hear but reason,
As well as you.
Jaq. But Sir, you do mistake me,
For I never saw the King.
In all my life but once, therefore good Sir,
May it please you to shew me which is the Post-house.
Sha. I cry you mercy, Sir, then you are my friend.
Jaq. Yes Sir.
Sha. And such men are very rare with me,
The Post-house is hard by, farewel;
Jaq. I thank you, Sir, I must ride hard to night,
And it is dark already.
Sha. I am cruel, to send this man directly to his death
That is my friend, and I might easily save him,
He shall not dye, come back, my friend, come back.
Jaq. What is your Will?
Sha. Do you not know?
Jaq. Not I.
Sha. And do you gather nothing by my face?
Jaq. No Sir.
Sha. Virtue is ever innocent,
Lay not the fault on me, I grieve for you,
And wish that all my tears might win your safety.
Jaq. Why Sir?
Sha. Alas good friend you are undone,
The more ill fortune, mine to be the means
Of your sad overthrow, you know not me.
Jaq. No truly Sir.
Sha. Would you had never seen me,
I am a man pursu'd by the whole state
And sure some one hath seen me talk with you.
Jaq. Yes, divers Sir.
Sha. Why then your head is gone.
Jaq. I'll out of town.
Sha. Would it were soon enough,
Stay if you love your life, or else you are taken.
Jaq. What shall I do?
Sha. I'll venture deeply for him,
Rather than to cast away an innocent,
Take courage friend, I will preserve thy life,
With hazard of mine own.
Jaq. I thank you, Sir.
Sha. This night thou shalt be lodg'd within my doors,
Which shall be all lock'd fast, and in the morn
I'll so provide, you shall have free access,
To the Sea-side, and so be shipt away,
E'r any know it.
Jaq. Good Sir, suddainly, I am afraid to dye.
Sha. Then follow me. [Exeunt.
Enter Shatillion's Love.
Love. This way he went, and there's the house, I hope,
His better Angel hath directed him,
To leave the wandring streets, poor Gentleman.
Would I were able with as free a heart,
To set his soul right, as I am to grieve,
The ruine of his fame, which God forgive me;
Sir, if you be within, I pray Sir speak to me.
Sha. I am within, and will be; what are you?
Love. A friend.
Sha. No Sir, you must pardon me,
I am acquainted with none such: be speedy,
Friend, there is no other remedy.
Love. A word Sir, I say, I am your friend.
Sha. You cannot scape by any other means,
Be not fearful, God save the King,
What's your business, Sir?
Lov. To speak with you.
Sha. Speak out then.
Lov. Shall I not come up?
Sha. Thou shalt not: flie if thou be'st thine own friend,
There lies the suit and all the furniture
Belonging to the head, on with it friend.
Lov. Sir do you hear?
Sha. I do, God bless the King,
It was a habit I had laid aside,
For my own person, if the state had forced me.
Love. Good Sir, unlock your door.
Sha. Be full of speed, I see some 20 Musquetiers in ambush
Whate'r thou art, know I am here and will be,
Seest thou this bloody sword that cries revenge?
Shake not my friend, through millions of these foes
I'll be thy guard, and set thee safe aboard.
Lov. Dare you not trust me, Sir?
Sha. My good sword before me,
And my allegeance to the King I tell thee
Captain (for so I ghess thee by thy Arms)
And the loose flanks of Halberdiers about thee,
Thou art too weak, and foolish to attempt me.
If you be ready, follow me, and hark you
Upon your life speak to no living wight,
Except my self.
Love. Monsieur Shattillion?
Sha. Thou shalt not call agen; thus with my sword,
And the strong faith I bear unto the King;
Whom God preserve, I will de[sc]end my chamber,
And cut thy throat, I swear I'll cut thy throat,
Steal after me and live.
Love. I will not stay.
The fury of a man so far distracted. [Exit Love.
Enter Shattillion.
Where's the Officer that dares not enter,
To intrap the life of my distressed friend?
I, have you hid your self? you must be found,
What do you fear? is not authority on your side
Nay, I know the Kings command
Will be your warrant, why then fear you? speak
What strange designs are these? Shattillion,
Be resolute and bear thy self upright,
Though the whole world despise thee: soft, methinks.
I heard a rushing which was like the shake
Of a discovered Officer, I'll search
The whole street over, but I'll find thee out. [Exit.
Enter Jaques in womans apparel.
Jaq. How my joynts do shake, where had I been
But for this worthy Gentleman, that
Hath some touch of my infortunes; would I were
Safe under hatches once, for Callicut,
Farewel the pomp of Court, I never more
Can hope to be a Duke or any thing,
I never more shall see the glorious face
Of my fair spreading Lord that lov'd me well.
Enter Shattillion.
Shat. Fly you so fast? I had a sight of you,
But would not follow you; I was too wise,
You shall not lead me with a cunning trick;
Where you may catch me; poor Shattillion;
Hath the Kings anger left thee never a friend?
No, all mens loves move by the breath of Kings.
Jaq. It is the Gentleman that sav'd my life, Sir.
Shat. Bless Shattillion, another plot.
Jaq. No Sir, 'tis I.
Shat. Why, who are you?
Jaq. Your friend whom you preserv'd.
Shat. Whom I preserv'd?
My friend? I have no woman friend but one,
Who is too close in prison to be here;
Come near, let me look on you.
Jaq. 'Tis I.
Shat. You should not be a woman by your stature.
Jaq. I am none, Sir.
Shat. I know it, then keep off,
Strange men and times! how I am still preserv'd!
Here they have sent a yeoman of the guard,
Disguis'd in womans clothes, to work on me,
To make love to me; and to trap my words,
And so insnare my life, I know you, Sir,
Stand back, upon your peril, can this be
In Christian Common-weals, from this time forth
I'll cut off all the means to work on me,
I'll ne'er stir from my house: and keep my doors
Lockt day and night, and cheapen meat and drink
At the next shops by Signs, out of my window,
And having bought it, draw it up in my garters.
Jaq. Sir, will you help me?
Shat. Do not follow me,
I'll take a course to live, despight of men. [Exit Shat.
Jaq. He dares not venture for me, wretched Jaques!
Thou art undone for ever and for ever,
Never to rise again? what shall I do?
Enter Bewfort.
Where shall I hide me? here's one to take me,
I must stand close, and not speak for my life.
Bew. This is the time of night, and this the haunt,
In which I use to catch my Wastcoatiers,
It is not very dark, no, I shall spie 'em,
I have walk't out in such a pitchy night.
I could not see my fingers this far off,
And yet have brought home venison by the smell,
I hope they have not left their old walk, ah?
Have I spied you sitting by this light?
To me there's no such fine sight in the world,
As a white apron 'twixt twelve and one;
See how it glisters! do you think to scape?
See now I have you fast; come, and do not strive,
It takes away the edge of appetite;
Come, I'll be liberal every way.
Take heed you make no noise, for waking of the Watch. [Exeunt.
Enter Cosin and his Wife.
Cos. Now the blessing of some happy guide,
To bring us to the Duke, and we are ready.
Enter Long. and Servant.
Come forward, see the door is open'd,
And two of his Gent. I'll speak to them,
And mark how I behave my self, God save ye;
For less I cannot wish to men of sort, and of your seeming:
Are you of the Dukes?
Long. We are, Sir, and your servants, your salutes,
We give you back again with many thanks.
Cos. When did you hear such words before Wife? peace,
Do you not dare to answer yet; is't fit
So mean a Gentleman as my self should crave,
The presence of the great Duke your Master?
Serv. Sir you may.
Long. Shall we desire your name, and business, Sir?
And we will presently inform him of you.
Cos. My name is Cleremont.
Serv. You are his Graces kinsman,
Or I am much mistaken?
Cos. You are right,
Some of his noble bloud runs through these veins,
Though far unworthy of his graces knowledge.
Long. Sir, we must all be yours; his graces kinsman,
And we so much forgetful? 'twas a rudeness,
And must attend your pardon, thus I crave it:
First to this beauteous Lady, whom I take
To be your Wife, Sir, next your mercy.
Cos. You have it, Sir, I do not like this kissing,
It lies so open to a world of wishes.
Serv. This is the merry fellow; this is he
That must be noble too.
Long. And so he shall.
If all the Art I have can make him noble,
I'll dub him with a Knight-hood; if his wife
Will be but forward, and joyn issue,
I like her above excellent.
Serv. Wil't please you
To walk a turn or two, whilst to the Duke
We make your comming known? [Exit Serv. and Long.
Cos. I shall attend, Sir.
Wife. These Gentlemen are very proper men,
And kiss the best that e'er I tasted.
For goodness-sake husband, let us never more
Come near the Countrey, whatsoe'er betide us;
I am in malice with the memory
Of that same stinking dung-hil.
Cos. Why now you are my chicken and my dear,
Love where I love, hate where I hate: now
You shall have twenty Gowns, and twenty Chains,
See, the door is opening.
Groom. Room afore there, the Duke is entring.
Enter Duke, Wife, Long. Servant, Maria.
Cos. 'Tis the Duke, even he himself, be merry,
This is the golden age the Poet speaks on.
Wife. I pray it be not brazen'd by their faces,
And yet methinks they are the neatest Pieces
For shape, and cutting that e'er I beheld.
Cos. Most gracious Duke, my poor Spouse and my self,
Do kiss your mighty foot, and next to that
The great hand of your Dutchess, ever wishing
Your honors ever springing, and your years.
Duke. Cosin?
Cos. Your Graces vassal, far unworthy
The nearness of your blood.
Duke. Correct me not, I know the word I speak,
And know the person.
Though I be something higher than the place
Where common men have motion, and descending
Down with my eye, their forms are lessened to me;
Yet from this pitch can I behold my own,
From millions of those men that have no mark,
And in my fearful stoop, can make them stand,
When others feel my feet, and perish: Cosin,
Be comforted, you are very welcome, so
Is your fair Wife: the charge of whom I give
To my own dearest, and best beloved.
Tell me, you have resolv'd your self for Court,
And utterly renounc'd the slavish Countrey,
With all the cares thereof?
Cos. I have, Sir.
Duke. Have you dismist your eating houshold,
Sold your hangings of Nebuchadnezar, for such they were,
As I remember, with the Furnitures
Belonging to your Beds and Chambers?
Cos. I Sir.
Duke. Have you most carefully ta'en off the Lead,
From you[r] roof, weak with age, and so prevented
The ruin of your house, and clapt him
In a summer suit of thatch to keep him cool?
Cos. All this I have perform'd.
Duke. Then lend me all your hands, I will embrace my Cosin
Who is an understanding Gentleman,
And with a zeal mighty, as is my name,
Once more I bid you welcome to the Court;
My state again.
Duch. As I was telling you, your Husband
Must be no more Commander, look to that,
Be several at meat, and lodging, let him have
Board-wages, and Diet, 'mongst his men i'th' Town
For pleasure, if he be given to't, let him have it,
Else as your own fancy shall direct you.
Cosin, you see this mighty man here: he was an ass
When he came first to Town: indeed he was
Just such another coxcomb as your Husband,
God bless the mark, and every good mans child!
This must not stir you Cosin.
Wif. Heaven forbid!
Long. Sweet Maria; provide the cushion ready for it.
Mar. It shall be done.
Duke. Receive all your advices from our self,
Be once a day with us, and so farewel
For this time, my fair Cosin, Gentlemen
Conduct him to his Lodging.
Duch. Farewel, and think upon my words.
Wife. I shall observe them. [Exit Duke and Duchess.
Cos. Health, and the Kings continual love, attend you.
Serv. Oh for a private place to ease my Lungs!
Heaven give me patience, such a pair of jades
Were never better ridden to this hour,
Pray heaven they hold out to the journeys end.
Long. Twitch him aside good Monsieur, whilst I break
Upon the body of his strength, his wife,
I have a constant promise: she is my own.
Serv. Ply her to wind-ward Monsieur, you have taken
The most compendious way to raise your self,
That could have been delivered by a Counsel.
Cos. I have some certain aims, Sir: but my wife—
Serv. Your wife, you must not let that trouble you.
Cos. It will Sir, to see her in a strangers arms.
Serv. What mean you? let her alone, be wise, stir not a foot
For if you do, all your hopes are buried:
I swear you are a lost man if you stir.
Cos. I thank you Sir, I will be more advis'd.
Serv. But what great Office do you level at?
Cos. Sir, they are kissing.
Serv. Let them kiss,
And much may do their good hearts; they must kiss
And kiss, and double kiss, and kiss again,
Or you may kiss the post for any rising:
Had your noble kinsman ever mounted
To these high Spheres of honor, now he moves in,
But for the kisses of his wife?
Cos. I know not.
Serv. Then I do; credit me, he had been lost,
A fellow of no mark, and no repute.
Had not his wife kist soon, and very sweetly:
She was an excellent woman, and dispatcht him
To his full being, in a moment, Sir— [Exit Long. and Wife.
Cos. But yet methinks he [sh]ould not take her, Sir,
Into a private room.
Serv. Now stand and flourish,
You are a mad[e] man for ever.
I do envy you if you stand your fortunes up,
You are the happiest man, but your great Cosin,
This day in Court: well, I will marry surely,
And not let every man out-run me thus.
'Tis time to be mine own friend, I live
In town here, and direct the readiest way,
To other men, and be a slave my self.
Cos. Nay, good Sir be not mov'd, I am your servant,
And will not be ungrateful for this knowledge.
Serv. Will you be walking home?
Cos. I would desire to have my wife along.
Serv. You are too raw,
Begone, and take no notice where you left her,
Let her return at leasure, if she stay
A month, 'twill be the better, understand me
This Gentleman can do't. [Exit Cosin.
Cos. I will Sir, and wife remember me, a Duke, a Duke wife.
Serv. Aboard her Longaveile, she's thine own,
To me the fooling of this fool is venery. [Exit Servant.
Enter Bewford and Jaques.
Bew. Come, prethee come, have I not crowns? behold
And follow me, here; not a word, go in
Grope by the walls, and you shall find a bed,
Lie down there, see, see, a turn or two, to give
My blood some heats, and I am presently
For action: darkness, by thy leave, I come. [Exit Bew.
Enter Maria.
Ma. I am perfect in my lesson, be my speed,
Thou god of marriage, this is the door, I'll knock.
Bew. within. Whose there, I cannot come yet.
Ma. Monsieur Bewford?
Bew. Stay till I light a candle, who are ye?
Ma. Sir? a poor Gentlewoman.
Enter Bewford.
Bew. Oh come in, I'll find a time for you too, be not loud.
Ma. Sir, you have found that time already, shame
On my soul therefore.
Bew. Why? what's the matter?
Ma. Do you not see, Sir, is your light so dim?
Bew. Do you not wait on the Lady Mount Marine?
Ma. I do Sir, but my love on you.
Bew. Poor soul! how cam'st thou by this big belly?
Ma. By your self.
Bew. By heaven I ne'er touch'd your body.
Ma. Yes, unswear that oath again, I'll tell you all;
These two years I have lov'd you, but the means
How to enjoy you, I did never know
Till Twelf-night last, when hearing of your game
To take up wenches private in the night,
I apprehended straight this course to make
My self as one of them, and wait your coming;
I did so, and enjoyed you, and now this child
That now is quick within me, hide my shame,
And marry me, or else I must be forc'd—
Long. within. Monsieur Bewford, Monsieur Bewford.
Bew. Whose that calls?
Long. Are you a bed?
Bew. No Sir, the hangings.
Enter Longaveil.
Long. Nay Monsieur, I'll forbid that, we'll have fair play,
Lend me your candle, are you taken Bewford?
A lecher of your practice, and close carriage
To be discovered thus? I am asham'd
So great a master in his art should fail,
And stagger in his grounds.
Bew. You're wide,
This woman and my self are man and wife,
And have been so this half year,
Where are you now? have I been discover'd?
You cannot break so easily on me, Sir,
I am too wary to be open'd by you.
Long. But these are but illusions, to give colour
To your most mystick leachery, but Sir,
The belly hath betraid you all, it must out.
Bew. Good Longaveil believe me on my faith,
I am her husband.
Long. On my faith I cannot, unless I saw
Your hands fast, and your hearts.
Bew. Why Longavile, when did I give that to your ears,
That was not truth? by all the world she's mine,
She is my wife, and to confirm you better
I give my self again, here take my hand
And I yours, we are once more married,
Will this content you?
Long. Yes I am believing, and God give you joy.
Bew. My loving wife, I will not wrong thee,
Since I am thine and only loved of thee
From this hour I vow my self a new man,
Be not jealous: for though I had a purpose,
To have spent an hour or two in solace otherwise,
And was provided for it, yet my love
Shall put a better temper to my blood,
Come out thou woman of unwholsome life,
Be sorry for thy sins, and learn to mend,
Nay, never hide your face, you shall be seen.
Long. Jaques, why Jaques, art thou that Jaques,
The very staffe, and right hand of our Duke?
Speak, thou bearded Venus.
Jaq. I am he, by miracle preserv'd to be that Jaques,
Within this two hours Gentlemen, poor Jaques
Was but as coarse in grave: a man of wisdom,
That of my conscience, if he had his right
Should have a pretty State, but that's all one
That Noble Gentleman did save this life,
I keep it for him, 'tis his own.
Long. Oh Bacchus! is all the world drunk? come we'll to the Duke
And give thanks for this delivery.
Enter Duke and Jaques.
Duke. Not gone unto my Tenants to relate
My Grace and Honor; [and] the mightiness
Of my new name, which would have struck a terror
Through their course doublets, to their very hearts?
Jaq. Alas, great Lord and Master, I could scarce
With safety of my life return again
Unto your graces house, and but for one
That had some mercy, I had sure been hang'd.
Duke. My house?
J[a]q. Yes Sir, this house, your house i' th' Town.
Duke. Jaques we are displeas'd, hath it no name?
Jaq. What name?
Duke. Dull rogue; what hath the King bestow'd
So many honors, open'd all his springs,
And show'red his graces down upon my head,
And has my house no name? no title yet?
Burgundy house you ass.
Jaq. Your graces mercy,
when I was come off, and had recover'd
Burgundy house, I durst not yet be seen,
But lay all night for fear of pursevants
In Burgundy privie house.
Duke. Oh Sir, 'tis well,
Can you remember now? but Jaques know
Since thy intended journey is so crost,
I will go down my self this morning.
Jaq. Sir?
Duke. Have I not said this morning?
Jaq. But consider,
That nothing is prepared yet for your journey,
Your graces teams not here to draw your cloaths;
And not a Carrier yet in town to send by.
Duke. I say once more go about it,
You're a wise man, you'd have me linger time,
Till I have worn these cloaths out: will ye go? [Ex. Jaq.
Make ye ready Wife.
Enter Wife.
Duc. I am so, mighty Duke.
Duke. Nay, for the Countrey.
Duc. How? for the Countrey?
Duke. Yes I am resolv'd to see my Tenants in this bravery,
Make them a sumptuous feast, with a slight shew,
Of Dives and Lazarus, and a squib or two,
And so return.
Duc. Why Sir? you are not mad?
Duke. How many Dukes have ye known mad? I pray speak.
Duc. You are the first, Sir, and I hope the last,
But you are stark horn-mad.
Duke. Forbear good wife.
Duc. As I have faith you're mad: your horns
Have been too heavy for you, and have broke
Your skull in pieces: If you be in earnest.
Duke. Well, you shall know my skull and wits are whole
E'r I have done, and yet I am in earnest.
Duc. Why, do you think I'll go?
Duke. I know you shall.
Duc. I shall? by what authority shall I?
Duke. I am your Husband.
Duc. True, I confess it,
And by that name, the world hath given you
A power to sway me; but Sir, you shall know
There is a greater bond that ties me here,
Allegeance to the King, has he not heapt
Those honors on you to no other end,
But to stay you here, and shall I have a hand
In the offending such a gracious Prince?
Besides, our own undoings lies upon't,
Were there no other cause, I do not see,
Why you should go: If I should say you should not.
Duke. Do you think so?
Duc. Yes faith.
Duke. Now good wife make me understand that point.
Duc. Why that you shall, did I not bring you hither?
Duke. Yes.
Duc. And were not all these honors wrought out of the fire by me?
Duke. By you?
Duc. By me? how strange you make it!
When you came first, did you not walk the Town,
In a long Cloak half compass? an old Hat,
Lin'd with Vellure, and on it for a band,
A skein of crimson Cruil?
Duke. I confess it.
Duc. And took base courses?
Duke. Base?
Duc. Base, by this light, extream base, and scurvie, monstrous base.
Du[k]e. What were these courses, wife?
Duc. Why, you shall know,
Did you not thus attir'd, trot up and down,
Plotting for vild and lowsie Offices,
And agreed with the Sergeant of the Bears,
To buy his place? deny this, if you can.
Duke. Why it is true.
Duc. And was not that monstrous base?
Duke. Be advis'd wife, a Bear's a Princely beast.
Duc. A Bear?
Duke. Yes wife, and one side venison.
Duc. You're more than one side fool, [I'm] sure of that.
Duke. But since you have vext me wife, know you shall go;
Or you shall never have penny from me.
Duc. Nay, I have done, and though I know 'twill be
Your overthrow, I'll not forsake you now.
Duke. Be ready then. [Exit Duke.
Duc. I will.
Enter Bewf. Long. Serv. Maria.
Long. What are you married Bewford?
Bew. I, as fast as words, and hearts, and hands, and Priest can make us.
Duc. Oh Gentlemen, we are undone.
Long. For what?
Duc. This Gentleman, the Lord of Lor[n]e, my Husband,
Will be gone down to shew his play-fellows
Where he is gay.
Bew. What, down into [the] Countrey?
Duc. Yes faith, was ever fool but he so cross?
I would as fain be gracious to him,
As he could wish me, but he will not let me;
Speak faithfully, will he deserve my mercy?
Long. According to his merits he should wear,
A guarded coat, and a great wooden dagger.
Duc. If there be any woman that doth know,
The duties 'twixt a Husband and his wife,
Will speak but one word for him, he shall scape;
Is not that reasonable? but there's none,
Be ready therefore, to pursue the plot
We had against a pinch, for he must stay.
Long. Wait you here for him, whilst I goe
And make the King acquainted with your sport,
For fear he be incens'd for our attempting
Places of so great honor. [Exit Long.
Duc. Go, be speedy.
Enter Duke, Cosin, Wife, Jaques, Man.
Duke. Come let me see how all things are dispos'd of.
Jaq. One Cart will serve for all your furniture,
With room enough behind to ease the Footman,
A capcase for you[r] linnen, and your plate,
With a strange lock that opens with Amen,
For my young Lord, because of easie portage,
A quiver of your graces lin'd with Cunney,
Made to be hang'd about the Nurses neck,
Thus, with a Scarfe or Towel.
Duke. Very good.
Jaq. Nay, 'tis well, but had you staid another week,
I would have had you furnisht, in such pomp,
As never Duke of Burgundy was furnisht,
You should have had a Sumpter, though 't had cost me
The laying on my self, where now you are fain,
To hire a Rippers mare, and buy new dossers,
But I have got them painted with your Arms,
With a fair darnex Carpet of my own
Laid cross for the more state.
Duke. Jaques I thank you: your Carpet shall be brusht
And sent you home; what, are you ready wife?
Duc. An hour ago.
Duke. I cannot chuse but kiss thy royal Lips,
Dear Duchess mine, thou art so good a woman.
Bew. Youl'd say so if you knew all, goodman Duckling.
Cos. This was the happiest fortune could befal me
Now in his absence will I follow close
Mine own preferment, and I hope e'r long,
To make my mean and humble name so strong,
As my great Cosins, when the world shall know,
I bear too hot a spirit to live low.
The next Spring will I down, my wife and houshold,
I'll have my Ushers, and my four Lacquies,
Six spare Caroches too, but mum, no more,
What I intend to do, I'll keep in store.
Duke. Mountey, mountey, Jaques, be our Querry.
Groom. To horse there Gentlemen, and fall in couples.
Duke. Come honoured Duchess.
Enter Longavile.
Long. Stand thou proud man.
Duke. Thieves, Jaques, raise the people.
Long. No, raise no people, 'tis the Kings command,
Which bids thee once more stand, thou haughty man,
Thou art a monster, for thou art ungrateful,
And like a fellow of a rebel nature,
Hast flung from his embraces: and for
His honors given thee, hast not return'd
So much as thanks, and to oppose his Will,
Resolv'd to leave the Court, and set the Realm
A fire, in discontent, and open action:
Therefore he bids thee stand, thou proud man,
Whilst with the whisking of my sword about,
I take thy honors off: this first sad whisk
Takes off thy Dukedom, thou art but an Earl.
Duke. You are mistaken, Longavile.
Long. Oh would I were: this second whisk divides
Thy Earldom from thee, thou art yet a Baron.
Duke. No more whisks if you love me Longavile.
Long. Two whisks are past, and two are yet behind,
Yet all must come, but not to linger time.
With these two whisks I end, now mount Marine,
For thou art now no more, so says the King,
And I have done his Highness Will with grief.
Duke. Degraded from my honors?
Long. 'Tis too certain.
Duke. I am no Traitor sure, that I know of;
Speak Jaques, hast thou ever heard me utter word
Tending to Treason, or to bring in the enemy?
Jaq. Alas Sir, I know nothing,
Why should your Worship bring me in to hang me?
[God's my judge Gentlemen] I never medled
But with the brushing of his cloaths, or fetching
In water in a morning for his hands.
Cos. Are these the honors of this place? Anthony
Help me to take her Gown off quickly,
Or I'll so swinge ye for't—
Wife. Why Husband? Sir?
Cos. I'll not loose a penny by this town.
Long. Why what do you mean, Sir, have her to her lodging,
And there undress her, I will wait upon her.
Cos. Indeed you shall not, your month is out I take it,
Get you out before me wife:
Cosin farewel, I told you long agoe,
That pride begins with pleasure, ends with woe. [Exit with's Wife.
Bew. Goe thy way sentences, 'twill be thy fortune,
To live and dye a Cuckold, and Churchwarden.
Duc. Oh my poor Husband! what a heavy fortune
Is fallen upon him!
Bew. Methinks 'tis strange,
That heaven fore-warning great men of their falls,
With such plain tokens, they should not avoid 'em:
For the last night betwixt eleven and twelve,
Two great and hideous blazing stars were seen
To fight a long hour by the clock, the one
Drest like a Duke, the other like a King;
Till at the last the crowned Star o'er-came.
Serv. Why do ye stand so dead, Monsieur Marine?
Duke. So Cæsar fell, when in the Capitol
They gave his body two and thirty wounds.
Be warned all ye Peers, and by my fall,
Hereafter learn to let your wives rule all.
Serv. Monsieur Marine, pray let me speak with you;
Sir, I must wave you to conceal this party,
It stands upon my utter overthrow;
Seem not discontented, nor do not stir afoot,
For if you do, you and your hope—
I swear you are a lost man if you stir.
And have an eye to Bewford, he'll tempt you.
Bew. Come, come, for shame go down;
Were I Marine, [by heaven] I would go down:
And being there, I would rattle him such an answer
Should make him smoke.
Duke. Good Monsieur Bewford, peace
Leave these rebellious words,
Or by the honors which I once enjoyed,
And yet may swear by,
I'll tell the King of your proceedings;
I am satisfied.
Wife. You talkt of going down when 'twas not fit,
But now let's see your spirit,
A thousand and a thousand will expect it.
Duke. Why wife, are ye mad?
Wife. No, nor drunk, but I'd have you know your own strength.
Duke. You talke like a most foolish woman, wife;
I tell you I will stay, yet I have a
Crotchet troubles me.
Long. More crotchets yet?
Duke. Follow me Jaques, I must have thy counsel,
I will return again, stay you there wife.
Long. I fear this loss of honor will give him some few stools.
Wif. No, no, he is resolv'd, he will not
Stir a foot, I'll lay my life.
Bew. I, but he's discontented, how shall we resolve that,
And make him stay with comfort?
Wife. Faith Bewford we must even let nature work,
For he's the sweetest temper'd man for that
As one can wish, for let men but go about to fool him,
And he'll have his finger as deep in't as the best;
But see where he comes frowning, bless us all!
Enter Duke.
Duke. Off with your hats, for here doth come
The high and mighty Duke of Burgundy.
What ever you may think, I have thought
And thought, and thought upon't, and I find it plain,
The King cannot take back what he has given,
Unless I forfeit it by course of Law.
Not all the water in the River Seine,
Can wash the blood out of these Princely veins.
Wife. God-a-mercy Husband, thou art the best
To work out a thing at a pinch in France.
Duke. I will ascend my State again,
Duchess, take your place,
And let our Champion enter.
Long. Has he his Champion? that's excellent.
Duke. And let loud Musick sound before his entrance.
Sound Trumpet.
Enter Jaques in Armor, one carrying a Scutcheon before him, and a two-handed Sword.
Wife. How well our Champion doth demean himself,
As if he had been made for such an action?
Methinks his sturdy truncheon he doth weild,
Like Mars approaching to a bloody field.
Duke. I think there's no man so desperate
To dare encounter with our Champion,
But trust me, Jaques, thou hast pleas'd us well;
Once more our warlike Musick, then proceed.
Enter Shattillion.
Shat. What wondrous age is this! what close proceedings!
I hear the clang of Trumpets in this house,
To what intent do not our States-men search?
Oh no, they look not into simple truth;
For I am true, and they regard not me,
A man in Armor too: God save the King,
The world will end, there's nought but treachery.
Jaq. I Jaques, servant to the high and mighty Godfrey,
Duke of Burgundy, do come hither to prove by natural
strength, and activity of my body, without the help of sorcery,
inchantment, or negromancy, that the said Godfrey,
late of Mount Marine, and now of Burgundy, hath perfect
right thereto, notwithstanding the Kings command to the
contrary, and no other person whatsoever: and in token
that I will be ready to make good the same: I throw down
my gage, which is my honor, pronounced the 37 of Feb.
Stilo novo, God save the Duke.
Shat. Of all the plots the King hath laid for me
This was the shrewdest, 'tis my life they seek
And they shall have it: if I should refuse
To accept the challenge in the Kings behalf,
They have some cause to take away my life,
And if I do accept it, who can tell,
But I may fall by doubtful chance of War?
'Twas shrew'd, but I must take the least of evils,
I take thy gauntlet up, thou treacherous man,
That stands in armed Coat against the King.
Whom God preserve, and with my single sword,
Will justifie whatever he commands;
I'll watch him for catching of my words.
Duke. Jaques go on, defend our Princely Title.
Shat. Why shrink'st thou back? thou hast an evil cause;
Come forward man, I have a rock about me,
I fight for my true Liege.
Duke. Go forward Jaques.
Jaq. I do beseech your Grace to pardon me,
I will not fight with him, with any else
I'll shew my resolution speedily.
Shat. Come, do thy worst, for the King shall see
All is not true, that is reported of me.
Jaq. I may not fight with him by Law of Arms.
Duke. What? shall my Title fall? wilt thou not fight?
Jaq. Never with him that once hath sav'd my life.
Shat. Dar'st thou not fight? behold then, I do go
Strong with the zeal I bear my Sovereign,
And seize upon that haughty man himself.
Descend the steps (that thou hast thus usurp'd
Against the King and State,) down to the ground,
And if thou do utter but a syllable
To cross the Kings intent, thou art but dead;
There, lye upon the earth, and pine, and dye.
Did ever any man wade through such storms
To save his life, as poor Shattillion?
Long. I fear this challenge hath spoil'd all.
Duc. Ne'er fear it, he'll work it out again, servant.
See where Shattillion's Love, poor Lady, comes.
Enter Love.
Duke. Jaques.
Jaq. Lie still, Sir, if you love your life, I'll whistle when he's gone,
Love. Oh Gentlemen, I charge you by the Love
Which you bear to women, take some pitty
On this distressed man, help to restore
That precious Jewel to him he hath lost.
Bew. Lady, what ever power doth lie in us
By Art, or Prayer, or danger, we are yours.
Love. A strange conceit hath wrought this malady,
Conceits again must bring him to himself,
My strict denial to his Will wrought this:
And if you could but draw his wilder thoughts
To know me, he would sure recover sense.
Long. That charge I'll undertake.
Duke. Look Jaques, look, for Gods sake let me rise,
This greatness is a jade, I cannot sit it.
Jaq. His sword is up, and yet he watcheth you.
Du. I'll down again, pray for thy Master, Jaques.
Shat. Now the King may see all the suggestions are not true,
He hath receiv'd against my loyalty;
When all men else refuse, I fight his battels,
And thrust my body into dangers mouth;
I am become his Champion, and this sword
Has taught his enemies to know themselves;
Oh that he would no more be jealous of me!
Long. Monsieur Shattillion, the King ass[ign]s you,
That for this valiant loyal act of yours,
He hath forgot all jealousies and fears,
And never more will tempt you into danger.
Shat. But how shall I believe this, what new token
Of reconcilement will he shew me?
Let him release my poor Love from her torment,
From her hard fare, and strict imprisonment.
Long. He hath done this to win your after-love,
And see your Lady sent you from the King
By these two Gentlemen: be thankful for her.
Shat. She lives, she lives, I know her by the power
Shoots from her eyes.
Love. Rise dear Shattillion.
Shat. I know my duty,
Next unto my King, I am to kneel to you.
Love. I'll have you rise, fetch me a chair, sit down Shat.
Shat. I am commanded, and faith tell me Mistriss,
What usage have you had? pray be plain!
Love. Oh my most lov'd Shattillion, pain enough,
But now I am free, thanks to my God and King.
Long. His eyes grow very heavy, not a word,
That his weak senses may come sweetly home.
Shat. The King is honourable.
Duke. When do you whistle Jaques?
Jaq. By and by.
Long. Come hither Monsieur, canst thou laugh a little?
Serv. Yes Sir.
Long. So thou shalt then. Bewford, how dost thou?
Bew. Why well.
Long. I'm glad on't, and how does thy wife?
Bew. Why, you may see her, Sir, she stands behind you.
Long. By the mass she's there indeed, but where's her belly?
Bew. Belly?
Long. Her great belly, man; what hast thou sent thee?
Serv. A Boy, I'll lay my life, it tumbled so.
Bew. Catcht by this light.
Long. I'll be a Gossip Bewford.
Serv. And I.
Long. I have an odd Apostle spoon.
Bew. S'foot, catcht.
Duc. Why, what's the matter, Gentlemen?
Long. He's married to your woman.
Duc. And I not know it?
Serv. 'Twas a venial sin.
Bew. Gall, gall, gall.
Duc. Forgive her, Monsieur Bewford, 'twas her love.
Bew. You may rise if you please, I must endure it.
Long. See how my great Lord lies upon the ground
And dare not stir yet!
Jaques whistles?
Duke. Jaques, Jaques, is the Kings Champion gon yet?
Jaq. No, but he's asleep.
Duke. Is he asleep art sure?
Jaq. I am sure he is, I hear him snore.
Duke. Then by your favours Gentlemen I rise,
And know I am a Duke still.
Jaq. And I am his Champion.
Duc. Hold thee there, and all France cannot mend thee.
Duke. I am a Prince as great within my thoughts
As when the whole state did adorn my person;
What trial can be made to try a Prince?
I will [o]ppose this noble corps of mine
To any danger that may end the doubt.
Duc. Great Duke, and Husband, there is but one way
To satisfie the world of our true right,
And it is dangerous.
Duke. What may it be?
Were it to bring the great Turk bound in chains
Through France in triumph: or to couple up
The Sophie, and great Prestor John together,
I would attempt it Duchess, tell the course.
Duc. There is a strong opinion through the world,
And no doubt, grounded on experience,
That Lions will not touch a lawful Prince,
If you be confident then of your right,
Amongst the Lions bear your naked body,
And if you come off clear, and never winch,
The world will say you are a perfect Prince.
Duke. I thank you Duchess, for your kind advice,
But now we do not affect those ravenous beasts.
Long. A Lion is a beast to try a King;
But for the trial of such a state like this
Pliny reports a mastive dog will serve.
Duke. We will not deal with dogs at all, but men.
Serv. You shall not need to deal with them at all,
Hark you Sir, the King doth know you are a Duke:
Duke. No, does he?
Serv. Yes, and is content you shall be, but with this caution,
That none know it but your self:
For if ye do, he'll take it away by Act of Parliament.
Duke. Here's my hand, and whilst I live or breath,
No living wight shall know I am a Duke.
Serv. Mark me directly, Sir, your wife may know it.
Duke. May not Jaques.
Serv. Yes, he may.
Duke. May not my Countrey Cosin?
Serv. By no means, Sir, if you love your life and state.
Duke. Well then, know all, I am no Duke.
Serv. No, I'll swear it.
Long. See, he wakes.
Shat. Where am I, or where have I been all this while?
Sleep hath not sate so sound upon mine eyes
But I remember well that face;
Oh thou too cruel, leave at length to scorn
Him that but looking on thy beauty, dies,
Either receive me, or put out my eyes.
Love. Dearest Shattillion, see upon my knees,
I offer up my love, forget my wrongs.
Shat. Art thou mine own?
Love. By heaven I am.
Shat. Then all the world is mine.
Love. I have stranger things to tell thee, my dearest love.
Shat. Tell nothing, but that thou art mine own:
I do not care to know where I have been,
Or how I have liv'd, or any thing,
But that thou art my own.
Bew. Well wife, though 'twere a trick that made us wed,
We'll make our selves merry soon in bed.
Duke. Know all, I am no Duke.
Wife. What [saye]?
Duke. Jaques?
Jaq. Sir.
Duke. I am a Duke.
Both. Are ye?
Duke. Yes faith, yes faith.
But it must only run among our selves,
And Jaques, thou shalt be my Secretary still.
Wife. Kind Gentlemen, lead in Shattillion,
For he must needs be weak and sickly yet.
Now all my labours have a perfect end, as I could wish,
Let all young sprightly wives that have
Dull foolish coxcombs to their Husbands,
Learn by me their duties, what to do,
Which is, to make 'em fools, and please 'em too. [Exeunt.