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

Mar. I hear 'em come.

Gab. Would I might never hear more.

Mar. I told you still: but you were so incredulous.
See, there they kiss.

Gab. Adders be your embraces.
The poison of a rotten heart, oh Hellen!
Blast thee as I have been; just such a flattery,
With that same cunning face, that smile upon't,
Oh mark it Marie, mark it seriously,
That Master smile caught me.

Mar. There's the old Duke, and
Marine her Father.

Gab. Oh!

Mar. There Longaville—
The Ladies now.

Gab. Oh, [I] am murder'd, Marie.
Beast, most inconstant beast.

Mar. There.

Gab. There I am not;
No more I am not there: Hear me, oh Heaven!
And all you powers of Justice bow down to me;
But you of pity dye. I am abus'd,
She that depended on your Providence,
She is abus'd: your honor is abus'd.
That noble piece ye made, and call'd it man,
Is turn'd to Devil: all the world's abus'd:
Give me a womans Will, provok'd to mischief,
A two-edg'd heart; my suffering thoughts to wild-fires,
And my embraces to a timeless grave turn.

Mar. Here I'll step in, for 'tis an act of merit.

Gab. I am too big to utter more.

Mar. Take time then. [Exeunt.

Gent. This solitary life at home undoes thee,
Obscures thy beauty first, which should prefer thee;
Next fills thee full of sad thoughts, which thy years
Must not arrive at yet, they choak thy sweetness;
Follow the time, my Girl, and it will bring thee
Even to the fellowship of the noblest women,
Hellen her self, to whom I would prefer thee,
And under whom this poor and private carriage,
Which I am only able yet to reach at,
Being cast off, and all thy sweets at lustre,
Will take thee as a fair friend, and prefer thee.

Casta. Good Sir, be not so cruel as to seek
To kill that sweet content y'have bred me to:
Have I not here enough to thank Heaven for?
The free air uncorrupted with new flattery.
The water that I touch, unbrib'd with odours
To make me sweet to others: the pure fire
Not smothered up, and choak'd with lustful incense
To make my bloud sweat; but burning clear and high,
Tells me my mind must flame up so to Heaven.
What should I do at Court, wear rich apparel?
Methinks these are as warm: And for your state, Sir,
Wealthy enough; Is it you would have me proud,
And like a Pageant, stuck up for amazements?
Teach not your child to tread that path, for fear (Sir)
Your dry bones after death, groan in your grave
The miseries that follow.

Gent. Excellent Casta.

Casta. When shall I pray again? (a Courtier)
Or when I do, to what God? what new body
And new face must I make me, with new manners?
For I must be no more my self. Whose Mistriss
Must I be first? with whose sin-offering season'd?
And when I am grown so great and glorious
With prostitution of my burning beauties,
That great Lords kneel, and Princes beg for favours,
Do you think I'll be your Daughter, a poor Gentlemans,
Or know you for my father?

Gent. My best Casta.
Oh my most virtuous child! Heaven reigns within thee;
Take thine own choice, sweet child, and live a Saint still.
The Lord Lavall, stand by wench.

Lav. Gabriella,
She cannot, nor she dares not make it known,
My greatness crushes her, when e'er she offers:
Why should I fear her then?

Gent. Come, let's pass on wench.

Lav. Gentille, come hither: who's that Gentlewoman?

Gent. A child of mine, Sir, who observing custome,
Is going to the Monastery to her Prayers.

Lav. A fair one, a most sweet one; fitter far
To beautifie a Court, than make a Votarist.
Go on, fair Beauty, and in your Orizons
Remember me: will ye, fair sweet?

Casta. Most humbly. [Exeunt.

Lav. An admirable Beauty: how it fires me!

But she's too full of grace, and I too wicked.
I feel my wonted fit: Defend me, goodness.
Oh! it grows colder still, and stiffer on me,
My hair stands up, my sinews shake and shrink;
Help me good Heaven, and good thoughts dwell within me.
Oh get thee gone, thou evil evil spirit,
Haunt me no more, I charge thee.

Spir. Yes Lavall:
Thou art my vassal, and the slave to mischief,
I blast thee with new sin: pursue thy pleasure;
Casta is rare and sweet, a blowing Beauty;
Set thy desires a fire, and never quench 'em
Till thou enjoy'st her; make her all thy Heaven,
And all thy joy, for she is all true happiness:
Thou art powerful, use command; if that prevail not,
Force her: I'll be thy friend.

Lav. Oh help me, help me.

Spir. Her virtue, like a spell, sinks me to darkness. [Exit.

Gent. He's here still. How is't, noble Lord? me thinks, Sir,
You look a little wildly. Is it that way?
Is't her you stare on so? I have spy'd your fire, Sir,
Bu[t] dare not stay the flaming. Come.

Lav. Sweet [c]reature,
Excellent Beauty, do me but the happiness
To be your humblest servant. Oh fair eyes,
Oh blessed, Blessed Sweetness, Divine Virgin!

Casta. Oh good my Lord, retire into your honor:
You're spoken good and virtuous, plac'd [at] Helme
To govern others from mischances: from example
Of such fair Chronicles as great ones are,
We do, or sure we should direct our lives.
I know y'are full of worth, a school of virtue
Daily instructing us that live below ye,
I make no doubt, dwells there.

Lav. I cannot answer,
She has struck me dumb with wonder.

Casta. Goodness guide ye. [Exeunt.

Lav. She's gone, and with her all [l]ight, and has left me
Dark as my black desires. Oh devil lust,
How dost thou hug my bloud, and whisper to me,
There is no day again, no time, no living,
Without this lusty Beauty break upon me!
Let me collect my self, I strive like billows,
Beaten against a rock, and fall a fool still.
I must enjoy her, and I will: from this hour
My thoughts, and all my bus'ness shall be nothing.

My eating, and my sleeping, but her beauty,
And how to work it.

Mar. Health to my Lord Lavall.
Nay good Sir, do not turn with such displeasure;
I come not to afflict your new born pleasures;
My honour'd Mistriss, neither let that vex ye,
For nothing is intended, but safe to you.

Lav. What of your Mistriss? I am full of bus'ness.

Mar. I will be short, my Lord; she, loving Lady,
Considering the unequal tie between ye,
And how your ruine with the Duke lay on it,
As also the most noble match now made,
By me sends back all links of marriage,
All Holy Vows, and Rights of Ceremony,
All promises, oaths, tears, and all such pawns
You left in hostage: only her love she cannot,
For that still follows ye, but not to hurt ye;
And still beholds ye Sir, but not to shame ye:
In recompence of which, this is her suit, Sir,
Her poor and last petition, but to grant her,
When weary nights have cloyed ye up with kisses,
(As such must come) the honor of a Mistriss,
The honor but to let her see those eyes,
(Those eyes she doats on, more than gods do goodness)
And but to kiss you only: with this prayer,
(a prayer only to awake your pity)
And on her knees she made it, that this night
You'ld bless her with your company at supper.

Lav. I like this well, and now I think on't better,
I'll make a present use from this occasion.

Mar. Nay, good my Lord, be not so cruel to her
Because she has been yours.

Lav. And to mine own end
A rare way I will work.

Mar. Can love for ever,
The Love of her (my Lord) so perish in ye?
As ye desire in your desires to prosper.
What gallant under Heaven, but Anjou's Heir then
Can brag so fair a Wife, and sweet a Mistriss?
Good noble Lord.

Lav. Ye mis-apply me, Mary,
Nor do I want true pity to your Lady:
Pity and love tell me, too much I have wrong'd her
To dare to see her more: yet if her sweetness
Can entertain a Mediation,
And it must be a great one that can cure me;
My love again, as far as honor bids me,
My service and my self—

Mar. That's nobly spoken.

Lav. Shall hourly see her; want shall never know her;
Nor where she has bestow'd her love, repent her.

Mar. Now whither drives he?

Lav. I have heard Maria,
That no two women in the world more lov'd,
Then thy good Mistriss, and Gentille's fair Daughter.

Mar. What may this mean? you have heard a truth, my Lord:
But since the secret Love betwixt you two,
My Mistriss durst not entertain such friendship;
Casta is quick, and of a piercing judgement,
And quickly will find out a flaw.

Lav. Hold Marie:
Shrink not, 'tis good gold, wench: prepare a Banquet,
And get that Casta thither; for she's a creature
So full of forcible Divine perswasion,
And so unwearied ever with good offic[e],
And she shall cure my ill cause to my Mistriss,
And make all errors up.

Mar. I'll doe my best, Sir:
But she's too fearful, coy, and scrupulous,
To leave her Fathers house so late; and bashful
At any mans appearance, that I fear, Sir;
'Twill prove impossible.

Lav. There's more gold, Marie,
And fain thy Mistriss wondrous sick to death, wench.

Mar. I have ye in the wind now, and I'll pay ye.

Lav. She cannot chuse but come; 'tis charity,
The chief of her profession: undertake this,
And I am there at night; if not, I leave ye.

Mar. I will not loose this offer, though it fall out
Clean cross to that we cast, I'll undertake it,
I will, my Lord; she shall be there.

Lav. By ——?

Mar. By —— she shall.

Lav. Let it be something late then.
For being seen, now force or favour wins her.
My spirits are grown dull, strong wine, and store,
Shall set 'em up again, and make me fit
To draw home at the enterprize I aim at. [Exit.

Ma. Go thy wa[ies] false Lord, if thou hold'st, thou pay'st
The price of all thy lusts. Thou shalt be there
Thou modest Maid, if I have any working,
And yet thy honor safe; for which this thief
I know has set this meeting: but I'll watch him.

Per. Maria.

Mar. Are mine eyes mine own? or bless me,
Am I deluded with a flying shadow?

Per. Why do you start so from me?

Mar. It speaks sensibly,
And shews a living body: yet I am fearful.

Per. Give me your hand, good Maria.

Mar. He feels warm too.

Per. And next your [l]ips.

Mar. He kisses perfectly.
Nay, and the Devil be n[o] worse: you are Perolot.

Per. I was, and sure I should be: Can a small distance,
And ten short moneths take from your memory
The figure of your friend, that you stand wondring?
Be not amaz'd, I am the self-same Per[o]lot,
Living, and well; Son to Gentille, and Brother
To virtuous Casta; to your beauteous Mistriss,
The long since poor betroth'd, and still vow'd servant.

Mar. Nay, sure he lives. My Lord Lavall, your Master,
Brought news long since to your much mourning Mistriss,
Ye dy'd at Orleance; bound her with an oath too,
To keep it secret from your aged Father,
Lest it should rack his heart.

Per. A pretty secret
To try my Mistriss Love, and make my welcome
From travel of more worth; from whence, Heaven be thanked,
My business for the Duke dispatch'd to th' purpose,
And all my money spent, I am come home, wench.
How does my Mistriss? for I have not yet seen
Any, nor will I, till I do her service.

Per. Yes, by much more force he got it,
But none else knew; upon his promise too
And honor to conceal it faithfully
Till my return; to further which, he told me,
My business being ended, from the Duke
He would procure a pension for my service,
Able to make my Mistriss a fit Husband.

Mar. But are you sure of this?

Per. Sure as my sight, wench.

Mar. Then is your Lord a base dissembling villain,
A Devil Lord, the damn'd Lord of all lewdness,
And has betraid ye, and undone my Mistriss,
My poor sweet Mistriss: oh that leacher Lord,
Who, poor soul, since was married.

Per. To whom, Maria?

Mar. To that unlucky Lord, a —— upon him;
Whose hot horse-appetite being allaid once
With her chaste joyes, married again, scarce cool'd,
The Torches yet not out the yellow Hymen
Lighted about the bed, the Songs yet sounding,
Marine's young noble Daughter Helena,
Whose mischief stands at door next. Oh that recreant!

Per. Oh villain! Oh most unmanly falshood!
Nay then I see, my Letters were betraid too.
Oh, I am full of this, great with his mischiefs,
Loaden and burst: Come, lead me to my Lady.

Mar. I cannot, Sir, Lavall keeps her conceal'd,
Besides, her griefs are such, she will see no man.

Per. I must, and will go to her: I will see her:
There be my friend, or this shall be thy furthest.

Mar. Hold, and I'll help thee: but first ye shall swear to me,
As you are true and gentle, as ye hate
This beastly and base Lord, where I shall place ye,
(Which shall be within sight) till I discharge ye,
What-e'er you see or hear, to make no motion.

Per. I do by ——

Mar. Stay here about the house then,
Till it be later; yet the time's not perfect:
There at the back door I'll attend you truly.

Per. Oh monstrous, monstrous beastly villain. [Exit.

Mar. How cross this falls, and from all expectation!
And what the end shall be, Heaven only yet knows:
Only I wish, and hope. But I forget still,
Casta must be the bait, or all miscarries. [Exeunt.

Gent. Holla, Shaloon.

Shal. Who's there?

Gent. A word from the Duke, Sir.

Shal. Your pleasure.

Gent. Tell your Lord he must to Court strait.

Shal. He is ill at ease: and prays he may be pardon'd
The occasions of this night.

Gent. Belike he is drunk then:
He must away; the Duke and his fair Lady,
The beauteous Helena, are now at Cent.
Of whom she has such fortune in her carding,
The Duke has lost a thousand Crowns, and swears,
He will not go to bed, till by Lavall
The Tide of loss be turn'd again. Awake him,
For 'tis the pleasure of the Duke he must rise.

Sha. Having so strict command (Sir) to the contrary,
I dare not do it: I beseech your pardon.

Gent. Are you sure he is there?

Sha. Yes.

Gen. And asleep?

Sha. I think so.

Gen. And are you sure you will not tell him, Shalon?

Sha. Yes, very sure.

Gen. Then I am sure, I will.
Open, or I must force.

Sha. Pray ye stay, he is not,
Nor will not be this night. You may excuse it.

Gent. I knew he was gone about some womans labour.
As good a neighbor, though I say it, and as comfortable:
Many such more we need Shaloon. Alas, poor Lady,
Thou art like to lie cross-legg'd to night. Good Monsieur,
I will excuse your Master for this once, Sir,
Because sometimes I have lov'd a wench my self too.

Sha. 'Tis a good hearing, Sir.

Gent. But for your lye, Shaloon,
If I had you here, it should be no good hearing.
For your pate I would pummel.

Sha. A fair good night, Sir.

Gent. Good night, thou noble Knight, Sir Pandarus.
My heart is cold o'th' suddain, and a strange dulness
Possesses all my body: thy Will be done Heaven. [Exit.

Casta. 'Faith Friend, I was even going to my bed,
When your Maid told me of your sudden sickness:
But from my grave (so truly I love you)
I think your name would raise me: ye look ill
Since last I saw ye, much decay'd in colour:
Yet I thank Heaven, I find no such great danger
As your Maid frighted me withal: take courage
And give your sickness course: some grief you have got
That feeds within upon your tender spirits,
And wanting open way to vent it self,
Murders your mind, and choaks up all your sweetness.

Gab. It was my Maids fault; worthy friend, to trouble ye,
So late, upon so light a cause: yet since I have ye
Oh my dear Casta.

Casta. Out with it, God's name.

Gab. The Closset of my heart, I will lock here, wench,

And things shall make ye tremble. Who's that knocks there?

Mar. 'Tis Lavall.

Gab. Sit you still. Let him in.
I am resolv'd, and all you wronged women,
You noble spirits, that as I have suffer'd
Under this glorious beast-insulting man,
Lend me your causes, then your cruelties,
For I must put on madness above women.

Cast. Why do you look so ghastly?

Gab. Peace; no harm, Deer.

Lav. There, take my cloak and sword: Where is this Banquet?

Mar. In the next room.

Casta. How came he here? Heaven bless me.

Lav. Give me some Wine wench; fill it full, and sprightly.

Gab. Sit still, and be not fearful.

Lav. Till my veins swell,
And my strong sinews stretch like that brave Centaur,
That at the Table snatch'd the Bride away
In spight of Hercules.

Casta. I am betraid.

Lav. Nay, start not Lady; 'tis for you that I come,
And for your beauty: 'tis for you, Lavall
Honors this night; to you, the sacred shrine
I humbly bow, offering my vows and prayers;
To you I live.

Gab. In with the powder quickly:
So, that and the Wine will rock ye.

[Lav. Here, to the health]
Of the most beauteous and divine, fair Casta,
The star of sweetness.

Gab. Fear him not, I'll die first.
And who shall pledge ye?

Lav. Thou shalt, thou tann'd Gipsey:
And worship to that brightness give, cold Tartar.
By —— ye shall not stir; ye are my Mistris,
The glory of my love, the great adventure,
The Mistris of my heart, and she my whore.

Gab. Thou ly'st, base, beastly Lord; drunker then anger,
Thou sowsed Lord, got by a surfeit, thou lyest basely.
Nay, stir not: I dare tell thee so. Sit you still.
If I be whore, it is in marrying thee,
That art so absolute and full a villain,
No Sacrament can save that piece tied to thee.
How often hast thou woo'd in those flatteries,
Almost those very words, my constancie?
What goddess have I not been, or what goodness
What star that is of any name in Heaven,
Or brightness? which of all the virtues
(But drunkenness, and drabbing, thy two morals)
Have not I reach'd to? what Spring was ever sweeter?
What Scythian snow so white? what crystal chaster?
Is not thy new wife now the same too? Hang thee,
Base Bigamist, thou honor of ill women.

Casta. How's this? O! Heaven defend me.

Gab. Thou salt-itch,
For whom no cure but ever burning brimstone
Can be imagin'd.

Lav. Ha, ha, ha.

Gab. Dost thou laugh, thou breaker
Of all law, all religion, of all faith
Thou Soule contemner?

Lav. Peace, thou paltry woman:
And sit by me, Sweet.

Gab. By the Devil?

Lav. Come,
And lull me with delights.

Gab. It works amain now.

Lav. Give me such kisses as the Queen of shadows
Gave to the sleeping boy she stole on Latmus;
Look round about in snakie wreathes close folded,
Those rosie arms about my neck, O! Venus.

Gab. Fear not, I say.

Lav. Thou admirable sweetness,
Distill thy blessings like those silver drops,
That falling on fair grounds, rise all in roses:
Shoot me a thousand darts from those fair eyes,
And through my heart transfix 'em all, I'll stand 'em.
Send me a thousand smiles, and presently
I'll catch 'em in mine eyes, and by Love's power
Turn 'em to Cupids all, and fling 'em on thee,
How high she looks, and heavenly! More wine for me.

Ga. Give him more wine, and good friend be not fearful.

Lav. Here on my knee, thou Goddess of delights,
This lustie grape I offer to thy Beauties;
See how it leaps to view that perfect redness
That dwels upon thy lips: now, how it blushes
To be outblush'd. Oh! let me feed my fancie,
And as I hold the purple god in one hand
Dancing about the bri[m] and proudly swelling,
Deck'd in the pride of nature young, and blowing;
So let me take fair Semele in the other,
And sing the loves of gods, then drink, their Nectar's
Not yet desir'd.

Casta. Oh!

Lav. Then like lustie Tarquin
Turn'd into flames with Lucrece coy denyals,
His blood and spirit equally ambitious,
I force thee for my own.

Casta. O help me Justice:
Help me, my Chastitie.

Lav. Now I am bravely quarried. [Perolot above.

Per. 'Tis my Sister.

Gab. No, bawdy slave, no Treacher, she is not carried.

Per. She's loose again, and gone. I'll keep my place still.

Mar. Now it works bravely: stand, he cannot hurt ye.

Lav. O my sweet Love, my life. [He falls downe, and sleeps.

Mar. He sinks.

Lav. My blessing.

Mar. So, now he is safe a while.

Gab. Lock all the doors, wench,
Then for my wrongs.

Per. Now I'll appear to know all.

Gab. Be quick, quick, good Marie, sure and sudden.

Per. Stay, I must in first.

Gab. O' my conscience!
It is young Perol[o]t: Oh my stung conscience!
It is my first and noblest Love.

Mar. Leave wondring,
And recollect your self: the man is living,
Equally wrong'd as you, and by that Devil.

Per. 'Tis most true, Lady: your unhappy fortune
I grieve for as mine own, your fault forgive too,
If it be one. This is no time for kisses:
I have heard all, and known all, which mine ears
Are crack'd apieces with, and my heart perish'd.
I saw him in your chamber, saw his fury.
And am afire till I have found his heart out.
What do you mean to do? for I'll make one.

Gab. To make his death more horrid (for he shall dye).

Per. He m[u]st, he must.

Gab. We'll watch him till he wakes,
Then bind him, and then torture him.

Per. 'Tis nothing.
No, take him dead drunk now without repentance,
His leachery inseam'd upon him.

Gab. Excellent.

Per. I'll do it my self; and when 'tis done, provide ye,
For we'll away for Italy this night.

Gab. We'll follow thorow all hazards.

Per. Oh false Lord,
Unmanly, mischievous; how I could curse thee;
But that but blasts thy fame; have at thy heart, fool:
Loop-holes I'll make enough to let thy life out.

Lav. Oh! does the devil ride me?

Per. Nay then.

Lav. Murder.
Nay, then take my share too.

Per. Help; oh! he has slain me.
Bloudy intentions must have bloud.

Lav. Hah?

Per. Heaven.

Gab. He sinks, he sinks, for ever sinks: oh fortune!
Oh sorrow! how like seas thou flowest upon me!
Here will I dwell for ever. Weep Maria,
Weep this young man's misfortune: oh thou truest!

Lav. What have I done?

Spir. That that has mark'd thy soul man.

Lav. And art thou come again thou dismal spirit?

Spir. Yes, to devour thy last.

Lav. Mercy upon thee.

Spir. Thy hour is come: succession, honor, pleasure,
And all the lustre thou so long hast look'd for
Must here have end: Summon thy sins before thee.

Lav. Oh my affrighted soul!

Spir. There lies a black one;
Thy own best servant by thy own hand slain,
Thy drunkenness procur'd it: There's another:
Think of fair Gabriella, there she weeps;
And such tears are not lost.

Lav. Oh miserable!

Spir. Thy foul intention to the virtuous Casta.

Lav. No more, no more, thou wild-fire.

Spir. Last, thy last wife,
Think on the wrong she suffers.

Lav. O my miserie.
Oh! whither shall I flie?

Spir. Thou hast no faith, fool.
Heark to thy knell. [Sings, and vanishes.

Lav. Millions of sins muster about mine eyes now:
Murders, ambitions, lust, false faiths; O horror,
In what a stormie form of death thou rid'st now!
Me thinks I see all tortures, fires, and frosts,
Deep sinking caves, where nothing but despair dwels,
The balefull birds of night hovering about 'em;
A grave, me thinks, now opens, and a herse
Hung with my Arms tumbles into it: oh!
Oh! my afflicted soul: I cannot pray;
And the least child that has but goodness in him
May strike my head off; so stupid are my powers:
I'll lift mine eyes up though.

Mar. Cease these laments,
They are too poor for venge[a]nce: Lavall lives yet.

Gab. Then thus I drie all sorrows from these eyes,
Fury and rage possess 'em now: damn'd divell.

Lav. Hah?

Gab. This for young Perolot.

Lav. O mercy, mercy.

Gab. This for my wrongs.

Lav. But one short hour to cure me. [Knock within.
Oh be not cruell: Oh! oh.

Mar. Heark, they knock.
Make hast for Heavens sake, Mistris.

Gab. This for Casta.

Lav. Oh, O, O, O! [He dies.

Mar. He's dead: come quickly, let's away with him,
'T will be too late else.

Gab. Help, help up to th' chamber! [Exeunt with Lavalls body.