The Project Gutenberg eBook of Beaumont & Fletcher's Works (9 of 10), by Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher.

Clow. We shall never reach London, I fear;
My mind runs so much of hanging, landing at Wapping. [Exeunt.

This well may be a day of joy long wish'd for
To my Clarissa, she is innocent.
Nor can her youth but with an open bosome
Meet Hymens pleasing bounties, but to me
That am inviron'd with black guilt and horror
It does appear a funeral though promising much
In the conception were hard to mannage
But sad in [the] event, it was not hate
But fond indulgence in me to preserve
Cesario's threatn'd life in open court
Then forc'd me to disclaime him, choosing rather
To rob him of his birthright, and honor
Than suffer him to run the hazard of
Inrag'd Baptista's fury, while he lives;
I know I have a Son, and the Dukes sentence
A while deluded, and this tempest over,
When he assures himself despair hath seiz'd him. [Knock within.

I can relieve and raise him—speak, who is it
That presses on my privacies? Sir your pardon.
You cannot come unwelcome, though it were
To read my secret thoughts.

Bap. Lady to you
Mine shall be ever open; Lady said I,
That name keeps too much distance, sister rather
I should have stil'd you, and I now may claime it,
Since our divided families are made one
By this blessed marriage; to whose honor comes
The Duke in person, waited on by all
The braveries of his Court, to witness it,
And then to be our ghests, is the bride ready
To meet and entertain him?

Maria. She attends the comming of your Son.

Bap. Pray you bring her forth.
The Duke's at hand—Musick, in her loud voyce,
Speaks his arrivall.

Maria. She's prepar'd to meet it. [—Exit.

Duke. It were impertinent to wish you joy,
Since all joyes dwell about you, Hymens torch
Was never lighted with a luckier Omen.
Nor burnt with so much splendor, to defer
With fruitless compliment, the means to make
Your certain pleasures lawful to the world;
Since in the union of your hearts they are
Confirm'd already: would but argue us
A boaster of our favours; to the Temple,
And there the sacred knot once ti'd, all triumphs
Our Dukedom can afford, shall grace your Nuptials.

Bap. On there.

Ment. I hope it is not in the power
Of any to cross us now.

Alber. But in the breath
Of a wrong'd Father I forbid the Banes.

Cesar. What, do you stand at gaze?

Bap. Risen from the dead!

Maria. Although the Sea had vomited up the Figure
In which thy better part liv'd long imprison'd,
True love despising fear, runs thus to meet it.

Claris. In duty I kneel to it.

Alber. Hence vile wretches,
To you I am a substance incorporeal,
And not to be prophan'd, with your vile touch?
That could so soon forget me, but such things
Are neither worth my Anger, nor reproof.
To you great Sir, I turn my self and these
Immediate Ministers of your Government,
And if in my rude language I transgress;
Ascribe it to the cold remembrance of
My services, and not my rugged temper.

Duke. Speak freely, be thy language ne'er so bitter,
To see thee safe Alberto, signes thy pardon.

Alber. My pardon? I can need none, if it be not
Receiv'd for an offence. I tamely bear
Wrongs, which a slave-born Muscovite would check at.
Why if for Treason I had been deliver'd
Up to the Hangmans Axe, and this dead trunk
Unworthy of a Christian Sepulchre;
Expos'd a prey to feed the ravenous Vulture,
The memory of the much I oft did for you,
Had you but any touch of gratitude,
Or thought of my deservings, would have stopp'd you
From these unjust proceedings.

Duke. Hear the motives that did induce us.

Alber. I have heard them all,
Your Highness sentence, the whole Court abus'd,
By the perjuries and practice of this woman.
(Wepest thou Crocodile) my hopeful son,
Whom I dare swear mine own, degraded of
The honors that descend to him from me:
And from that, in his love scorn'd by a creature
Whose base birth, though made eminent by her beauty,
Might well have mark'd her out Cesario's servant,
All this I could have pardon'd and forgot;
But that my daughter with my whole Estate
So hardly purchas'd, is assign'd a Dower;
To one whose Father, and whose Family
I so detest; that I would lose my essence
And be transformed to a Basiliske
To look them dead, to me's an injury
Admits no satisfaction.

Bap. There's none offer'd.

Alber. Nor would not be accepted,
Though upon thy knees 'twere tender'd.

Maria. Now the storm grows high.

Bap. But that I thought thee dead, and in thy death
The brinie Ocean had entomb'd thy name;
I would have sought a Wife in a Bordello
For my Mentivole, and gladly hugg'd
Her spurious issue as my lawful Nephews,
Before his blood should e'er have mix'd with thine;
So much I scorn it.

Alber. I'll not bandy words, but thus dissolve the contract.

Bap. There I meet thee, and seize on what's mine own.

Alber. For all my service,
Great Sir, grant me the combat with this wretch,
That I may scourge his insolence.

Bap. I kneel for it.

Cesar. And to approve my self Alberto's Son,
I'll be his second upon any odds,
'Gainst him that dare most of Baptista's race.

Menti. Already upon honourable terms,
In me thou hast met thy better, for her sake
I'll add no more.

Alber. Sir, let our swords decide it.

Maria. Oh stay Sir, and as you would hold the Title
Of a just Prince, e'r you grant licence to
These mad-mens fury, lend your private ear
To the most distress'd of Women.

Duke. Speak, 'tis granted. [He takes Mariana aside.

Clar. In the mean time, let not Clarissa be
A patient looker on, though as yet doubtful,
To whom to bend her knee first, yet to all
I stoop thus low in duty, and would wash
The dust of fury with my Virgin tears,
From his bless'd feet, and make them beautiful
That would move to conditions of peace,
Though with a snail-like pace, they all are wing'd
To bear you to destruction: reverend Sirs,
Think on your antient friendship cemented
With so much bloud, but shed in noble action,
Divided now in passion for a brawl;
The Makers blush to own, much lov'd Cesario.
Brother, or friend, (each Title may prevail,)
Remember with what tenderness from our childhood
We lov'd together, you preferring me
Before your self, and I so fond of you
That it begot suspition in ill minds
That our affection was incestuous.
Think of that happy time, in which I know
That with your dearest bloud you had prevented
This shower of tears from me; Mentivole,
My Husband, registred in that bright star-chamber,
Though now on earth made strangers, be the example
And offer in one hand the peaceful Olive
Of concord, or if that can be denied
By powerful intercession in the other
Carry the Hermian rod, and force attonement,
Now we will not be all marble. Death's the worst then
And he shall be my Bridegroom. [Offers to kill her self.

Ment. Hold Clarissa, his loving violence needs must
Offer in spite of honor.— [He snatches away her knife, and sets it to his own breast, she staies his hand.

Duke. Was it to that end then on your Religion?

Mar. And my hope in Heaven, Sir.

Duke. We then will leave intreaties, and make use
Of our authority, must I cry ai-me
To this unheard of insolence? in my presence
To draw your swords, and as all reverence
That's due to Majesty were forfeited,
Cherish this wildeness! sheath them instantly,
And shew an alteration in your looks, or by my power.

Alber. Cut off my head.

Bap. And mine, rather than hear of peace with this bad man.
I'll not alone, give up my throat, but suffer
Your rage to reach my family.

Alb. And my name to be no more remembred.

Duke. What are these?

Ces. Biancha, 'tis Biancha, still Biancha: but strangely
alter'd.

Bapt. If that thirteen years
Of absence could raze from my memory
The figure of my friend, I might forget thee;
But if thy Image be graven on my heart,
Thou art my Prospero.

Pros. Thou my Baptista?

Duke. A suddain change!

Bap. I dare not ask, dear friend
If Juliana live! for that's a blessing
I am unworthy of, but yet denie not
To let me know the place she hath made happy
By having there her Sepulchre.

Pros. If your Highness please to vouchsafe a patient
Ear, we shall make a true relation of a story
That shall call on your wonder.

Duke. Speak, we hear you.

Pros. Baptista's fortune in the Genoua Court,
His banishment, with his fair Wife's restraint
You are acquainted with; what since hath follow'd
I faithfully will deliver. E'r eight Moons
After Baptista's absence were compleat,
Fair Juliana found the pleasures, that
They had injoy'd together, were not barren,
And blushing at the burthen of her womb,
No father near to own it, it drew on
A violent sickness, which call'd down compassion
From the angry Duke, then careful of her health.
Physitians were enquir'd of, and their judgment
Prescrib'd the Baths of Luca as a means
For her recovery; to my charge it pleas'd her
To be committed; but as on the way
We journey'd, those throws only known to Women
Came thick upon her, in a private Village.

Bap. She died?

Pros. Have patience, she brought to the world
A hopeful Daughter; for her bodies sickness
It soon decay'd, but the grief of her mind
Hourly increas'd, and life grew tedious to her,
And desperate e'er to see you; she injoyn'd me
To place her in a Greekish Monastery,
And to my care gave up her pretty Daughter.

Bapt. What Monastery? as a Pilgrim bare-foot,
I'll search it out.

Pros. Pray you interrupt me not,
Now to my fortunes; the girl well dispos'd of
With a faithful friend of mine, my cruel fate
Made me a prisoner to the Turkish Gallies,
Where for 12 years, these hands tugg'd at the Oar,
But fortune tyr'd at length with my afflictions,
Some Ships of Maltha met the Ottoman Fleet,
Charg'd them, and boarded them, and gave me freedom.
With my deliverers I serv'd, and got
Such reputation with the great Master
That he gave me command over a tall
And lusty ship, where my first happy service
Was to redeem Alberto rumour'd dead,
But was like me surpriz'd by Cortugogly.

Alber. I would I had died there.

Pros. And from him learning
Baptista liv'd, and their dissolv'd friendship,
I hois'd up sails for Greece, found Juliana
A votary at her Beads; having made known
Both that you liv'd, and where you were: she borrow'd
So much from her devotion, as to wish me
To bring her to you; if the object please you,
With joy receive her.

Bapt. Rage and fury leave me. [Throws away his sword.
I am so full of happiness, there's no room left
To entertain you, oh my long lost Jewel,
Light of mine eyes, my souls strength.

Julia. My best Lord, having embrac'd you thus,
Death cannot fright me.

Bapt. Live long to do so, though I should fix here.
Pardon me Prospero, though I enquire my daughters fortune.

Pros. That your happiness
May be at all parts perfect, here she is!

Ces. Biancha, daughter to a Princess.

Pros. True with my faithful Host I left her,
And with him till now she hath resided,
Ignorant both of her birth and greatness.

Bap. Oh my blest one. Joy upon joy o'erwhelms me.

Duke. Above wonder.

Alb. I do begin to melt too, this strange story
Works much upon me.

Duke. Since it hath pleas'd heaven
To grace us with this miracle, I that am
Heavens instrument here, determine thus; Alberto
Be not unthankful for the blessings shown you,
Nor you Baptista; discord was yet never
A welcome sacrifice; therefore rage laid by,
Embrace as friends, and let pass'd difference
Be as a dream forgotten.

Bap. 'Tis to me.

Alber. And me, and thus confirm it.

Duke. And to tye it
In bonds not to be broken, with the marriage
Of young Mentivole, and fair Clarissa,
So you consent great Lady, your Biancha
Shall call Cæsario Husband.

Julia. 'Tis a motion I gladly yield to.

Cesar. One in which you make a sad man happy. [Offers to kneel.

Bian. Kneel not, all forgiven.

Pros. I can resolve you, slaves freed from the Gallies
By the Viceroy of Sicilia.

For blessings ne'er descend from thence, but when
A sacrifice in thanks ascends from men. [Exeunt omnes.

Nis. She's twenty year old, I wonder
She aske not a Husband.

Dor. That were a folly in her; having refus'd all the
Great Princes in one part of the world;
She'll die a Maid.

Age. She may ask but one, may she?

Nis. A hundred times this day if she will;
And indeed, every day is such a day, for though
The Duke has vow'd it only on this day,
He keeps it every day: he can deny
Her nothing. [Cornets.

Leon. Come fair Hidaspes, thou art
Duchess to day,
Art thou prepar'd to aske, thou knowest
My oath will force performance.
And Leucippus, if she now ask ought that shall,
Or would have performance
After my death, when by the help of heaven,
This Land is thine, accursed be thy race,
May every one forget thou art my Son,
And so their own obedience.

Leucip. Mighty Sir,
I do not wish to know that fatal hour,
That is to make me King, but if I do,
I shall most hastily, (and like a Son)
Perform your grant[s] to all, chiefly to her:
Remember that you aske what we
Agreed upon.

Leon. Are you prepar'd? then speak.

Hida. Most Royal Sir, I am prepar'd,
Nor shall my Will exceed a Virgins bounds,
What I request shall both at once bring
Me a full content.

Leon. So it ever does:
Thou only comfort of my feeble age,
Make known thy good desire,
For I dare swear thou lov'st me.

Hidas. This is it I beg,
And on my knees. The people of your Land,
The Lycians, are through all the Nations
That know their name, noted to have in use
A vain and fruitless superstition;
So much more hateful, that it bears the shew
Of true Religion, and is nothing else
But a false-pleasing bold lasciviousness.

Leon. What is it?

Hidas. Many ages before this,
When every man got to himself a Trade,
And was laborious in that chosen course,
Hating an idle life, far worse than death:
Some one that gave himself to Wine and Sloth,
Which breed lascivious thoughts;
And found himself conjoyn'd
For that by every painful man,
To take his stain away, fram'd to himself
A god, whom he pretended to obey,
In being thus dishonest, for a name
He call'd him Cupid. This created god,
Mans nature being ever credulous
Of any vice that takes part with his blood,
Had ready followers enow: and since
In every age they grew, especially
Amongst your Subjects, who do yet remain
Adorers of that drowsie Deitie:
Which drink invented: and the winged Boy,
(For so they call him) has his sacrifices.
These loose naked statues through the Land,
And in every Village, nay the palace
Is not free from 'em. This is my request,
That these erect[ed] obscene Images
May be pluckt down and burnt: and every man
That offers to 'em any sacrifice, may lose his life.

Leon. But be advis'd my fairest daughter, if he be
A god, he will express it upon thee my child:
Which heaven avert.

Leucip. There is no such power:
But the opinion of him fills the Land
With lustful sins: every young man and maid
That feel the least desire to one another,
Dare not suppress it, for they think it is
Blind Cupid's motion: and he is a god.

Leon. This makes our youth unchaste. I am resolv'd:
Nephew Ismenus, break the Statues down
Here in the Palace, and command the City
Do the like, let proclamations
Be drawn, and hastily sent through the Land
To the same purpose.

Ismen. Sir, I will break down none my self,
But I will deliver your command:
Hand I will have none in't, for I like it not.

Leon. Goe and command it. Pleasure of my life,
Wouldst thou ought else? make many thousand suits,
They must and shall be granted.

Hid. Nothing else. [Exit Ismenus.

Leon. But go and meditate on other suits,
Some six days hence I'll give thee Audience again,
And by a new oath, bind my self to keep it:
Ask largely for thy self, dearer than life
In whom I may be bold to call my self,
More fortunate than any in my age,
I will deny thee nothing.

Leu. 'Twas well done, Sister. [Exeunt all but these three Lords.

Nis. How like you this request my Lord[s]?

Dor. I know not yet, I am so full of wonder,
We shall be gods our selves shortly,
And we pull 'em out of Heaven o' this fashion.

Age. We shall have wenches now when we can
Catch 'em, and we transgress thus.

Nis. And we abuse the gods once, 'tis a Justice
We should be held at hard meat: for my part,
I'll e'en make ready for mine own affection,
I know the god incenst must send a hardness
Through all good Womens hearts, and then we have
Brought our Eggs and Muskadine to a fair Market:
Would I had giv'n a 100 l. for a tolleration,
That I might but use my conscience in mine
Own house.

Dor. The Duke he's old and past it, he would
Never have brought such a plague upon the Land else,
'Tis worse than Sword and Famine:
Yet to say truth, we have deserv'd it, we have liv'd
So wickedly, every man at his Livery, and wou'd that
Wou'd have suffic'd us: we murmur'd at this
Blessing, that was nothing; and cry'd out to the
God for endless pleasures, he heard us,
And supp[l]ied us, and our Women were new still
As we need 'em: yet we like beasts still cry'd,
Poor men can number their woers, give us
Abundance: we had it, and this curse withal.

Age. Berlady we are like to have a long Lent on't,
Flesh shall be flesh: now Gentlemen I had rather
Have anger'd all the gods, than that blind Gunner.
I remem[b]er once the people did but slight him
In a sacrifice: and what followed?
Women kept their houses, grew good huswives
Honest forsooth! was not that fine?
Wore their own faces,
Though they wear gay cloaths without surveying,
And which was most lamentable,
They lov'd their Husbands.

Nis. I do remember it to my grief,
Young Maids were as cold as Cowcumbers
And much of that complexion:
Bawds were abolisht: and, to which misery
It must come again,
There were no Cuckolds,
Well, we had need pray to keep these
Divels from us,
The times grow mischievous.
There he goes, Lord!

This is a sacriledge I have not heard of:
Would I were gelt, that I might not
Feel what follows.

Age. And I too. You shall see within these
Few years, a fine confusion i'the Countrey: mark it:
Nay, and we grow for to depose the Powers,
And set up Chastity again, well, I have done.
A fine new goddess certainly, whose blessings
Are hunger and hard beds.

Nis. This comes of fulness, a sin too frequent with us
I believe now we shall find shorter commons.

Dor. Would I were married, somewhat has some favour;
The race of Gentry will quite run out now,
'Tis only left to Husbands, if younger Sisters
Take not the greater charity, 'tis lawful.

Age. Well, let come what will come,
I am but one, and as the plague falls,
I'll shape my self: If Women will be honest, I'll be sound.
If the god be not too unmerciful,
I'll take a little still, where I can get it,
And thank him, and say nothing.

Nis. This ill wind yet may blow the City good,
And let them, (if they can) get their own children,
They have hung long enough in doubt, but howsoever, the
old way was the surer, then they had 'em.

Dor. Farewel my Lords, I'll e'en take up what Rent I can
before the day, I fear the year will fall out ill.

Age. We'll with you Sir: And love so favour us,
As we are still thy servants. Come my Lords;
Let's to the Duke, and tell him to what folly
His doting now has brought him. [Exeunt.

Priest. Come my children, let your feet,
In an even measure meet:
And your chearful voices rise,
For to present this Sacrifice;
Lo great Cupid, in whose name,
I his Priest begin the same.
Young men take your Loves and kiss,
Thus our Cupid honour'd is
Kiss again, and in your kissing,
Let no promises be missing:
Nor let any Maiden here,
Dare to turn away her ear,
Unto the whisper of her Love,
But give Bracelet, Ring or Glove,
As a token to her sweeting,
Of an after secret meeting:
Now boy sing to stick our hearts
Fuller of great Cupid's darts.

Lovers rejoyce, your pains shall be rewarded,
The god of Love himself grieves at your crying:
No more shall frozen honor be regarded,
Nor the coy faces of a Maids denying.
No more shall Virgins sigh, and say we dare not,
For men are false, and what they do they care not,
All shall be well again, then do not grieve,
Men shall be true, and Women shall believe.

Lovers rejoyce, what you shall say henceforth.
When you have caught your Sweet-hearts in your arms,
It shall be accounted Oracle, and Worth:
No more faint-hearted Girls shall dream of harms,
And cry they are too young, the god hath said,
Fifteen shall make a Mother of a Maid:
Then wise men, pull your Roses yet unblown,
Love hates the too ripe fruit that falls alone.

Nilo. No more of this: here break your Rights for ever,
The Duke commands it so; Priest do not stare,
I must deface your Temple, though unwilling,
And your god Cupid here must make a Scare-crow
For any thing I know, or at the best,
Adorn a Chimney-piece.

Priest. Oh Sacriledge unheard of!

Nilo. This will not help it, take down the Image[s]
And away with 'em.
Priest, change your coat you had best, all service now
Is given to men: Prayers above their hearing
Will prove but bablings: learn to lye and thrive,
'Twill prove your best profession: for the gods,
He that lives by 'em now, must be a beggar.
There's better holiness on earth they say,
Pray God it ask not greater sacrifice. Go home,
And if [y]our god be not deaf as well as blind,
He will [make] some smoak for it.

Gent. Sir—

Nilo. Gentlemen, there is no talking,
This must be done and speedily;
I have commission that I must not break.

Gent. We are gone, to wonder what shall follow.

Nilo. On to the next Temple. [Exeunt.

Cupid. Am I then scorn'd? is my all-doing Will
And Power, that knows no limit, nor admits none,
Now look'd into by less than gods? and weak'ned
Am I, whose Bow struck terror through the earth,
No less than Thunder, and in this, exceeding
Even gods themselves; whose knees before my Altars
Now shook off; and contemn'd by such, whose lives
Are but my recreation! anger rise
My sufferance and my self are made the subject
Of sins against us. Go thou out displeasure,
Displeasure of a great god, flying thy self
Through all this Kingdom: sow what ever evils
Proud flesh is [taking of], amongst these Rebels:
And on the first heart that despise my Greatness,
Lay a strange misery, that all may know
Cupid's revenge is mighty; with his Arrow
Hotter than plagues or mine own anger, will I
Now nobly right my self: nor shall the prayers
Nor [sweete] smoaks on my Altars hold my hand,
Till I have left this a most wretched Land. [Exit.

CUPID'S REVENGE.

The Persons represented in the Play.

Actus Primus. Scæna Prima.