SIR GYLES GOOSECAPPE Knight. A Comedie presented by the Chil: of the Chappell.

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AT LONDON. Printed by Iohn Windet for Edward Blunt. 1606.

  • [...], Awidowe, and a Noble Ladie.
  • Hyppolita, Ladie-virgines, and Companions to Eugenia▪
  • Penelope, Ladie-virgines, and Companions to Eugenia▪
  • Wynnifred, gentlewoman to Eugenia.
  • Monfor [...], A Noble Man, vnkle to Eugenia.
  • Clare [...]ce, Gentleman, friend to Monf.
  • Fowle [...] ether, a french affected Trauayler, & a Captaine.
  • Sir Giles Goosecap▪ a foolish knight.
  • Sir Cuthbert [...], a blunt knight.
  • Sir Clement kingcob, a knight.
  • Lord Tales.
  • Lord Furnifall.
  • Bullaker, a french Page.
  • [...]ack `Pages
  • Will `Pages

[Page]SIR GYLES GOOSE­CAPPE, KNIGHT.

ACTVS PRIMVS,

SCAeNA PRIMA

Enter Bullaker with a Torche.
Bullaker.

THis is the Countesse Eugenias house I thinke, I can neuer hit of theis same English Cittie howses, tho I were borne here: if I were in [...] Citty in Fraunce, I coulde find any house there at midnight.

Enter Iacke, and Will.
Iack.

Theis two strange hungrie knights ( VVil) make the leanest trenchers that euer I waited on.

[...].

A plague on them Iack, they leaue vs no fees at all, for our attendance, I thinke they vse to sett their b [...]nes in siluer they pick them so cleane, see, see, see Iack whats that?

Iack

A my worde ( [...]) tis the great Baboone, that was to be seene in Southwarke.

VVill

Is this he? gods my life what beastes were we, tha [...] we wood not [...]ee him all this while, neuer trust mee if hee looke not somewhat like a man, see how pretely hee holds the torche in one of his forefeete, wheres his keeper [...] owe, is he broke loose?

Iack

Hast euer an Apple about thee ( VVill) weele take him vp sure, we shall get a monstrous deale of mo­ny with him.

[Page]VVil.

That we sh [...]ll yfath boy, and looke thou here, heres a red cheekt apple to take him vp with.

Ia.

Excellent [...]it a my credit, lets lay downe our pro­uant, and to him.

Bul▪

Ile let them alone a while.

Ia.

Giue me the apple to take vp Iacke, because my name is Iacke.

VVil

Hold thee Iacke, take it.

Ia.

Come Iack [...], come Iacke, come Iacke.

Bul.

I will come to your Sir, Ile Iacke ye a my worde, Ile Iacke ye.

VVill

Gods me he speakes Iacke, O pray pardon vs Sir▪

Bul.

Out ye m [...]pede monckies can yee not knowe a man from a Marmasett, in theis Frenchified dayes of ours? na [...] ile Iackefie you alittle better yet.

both,

Nay good Sir, good Sir, pardon vs▪

Bul▪

Pardon vs, out ye home-bred peasants, plain eng­lish, pardon vs, if you had parled, & not spoken, but said pardonne moy▪ I wood haue pardon'd you, but since you speake, and not parley, I will cudgell ye better yet.

Ambo

O pardonne moy mounsieur.

Bul.

Bièn iè vous remercie, thers pardonne pour vous Sir now.

Will

Why I thanke ye for it Sir, you seeme to bee a Squire of our order Sir.

Ia.

Whose page might you be Sir.

Bul.

I am now the great French Traualers page▪

Wil

Or rather the frēch Traualer [...] great page. Sir, on, on

Bul.

Hight Captaine Fouleweather, alias Comenda­tions; whose valours within here at super with the Coū ­ [...]es Eugenia, whose propper eaters I take you two to be.

Will

You mistake vs not Sir.

Ia.

This captain Fouleweather, alias Cōmendations ( Wil) is the gallāt that wil needs be a sutor to our Coūtes

Will

Faith and if Fouleweather be a welcome suiter to a [...]aire Ladie, has good lucke.

Ia.

O Sir, beware of one that can showre into the▪ lapps of Ladies, Captaine Fowleweather? why hees a [Page] Captinado, or C [...]ptaine of Captaines, and will lie in the [...]r io [...]ntes that giue him cause to worke v [...]pon them so heauylie, that hee will make their hartes ake I warrant him▪ Captaine Fowleweather? why hee will make the cold stones sweate for feare of him, a day or two befo [...]e he come at them. Captaine Fowleweather? why he does so dominere, and raigne ouer women.

Will

A plague of Cap [...]aine Fowleweather I remēber him now Jack, and know him to be a dull moist braind Asse.

Ia.

A Southerne man I thinke.

Will

As fearefull as a Hare, & a will lye like a Lap­wing, & I know how he came to be a Captain, & to haue his Surname of Commendations.

Ia.

How I preethee Will?

Will

Why Sir he serued the great Ladie Kingcob, and was yeoman of her wardroppe, & because a cood brush vp her silkes lustely, she thought hee would curry the e­nemies coates as soundly, and so by her commendati­ons, he was made Captaine in the lowe Countries.

Ia.

Then being made Captaine onely by his Ladies comme [...]dations, without any worth also of his owne, he was euer after surnamde Captaine Commendations?

Will

Right.

Bul.

I Sir right, but if he had not said right, my Cap­taine shoulde haue taken no wrong at his handes, nor yours neither I can tell ye.

Ia.

What are those two Knights names, that are thy captaines Comrades, and within at supper with our Lady?

Bul.

One of their names Sir, is, Sir Gyles Goosecappe, the others Sir Cutt. Rudseby.

Will

Sir Gyles Goosecappe whats he a gentleman?

Bul.

I that he is at least if he be not a noble man, and his chiefe house is in Essex.

Ia.

In Essex? did not his Auncestors come out of Londō

Bul.

Yes that they did Sir, the best Gosecappes [Page] in England, comes out of London I assure you.

VVill

I but Sir these must come into it before they come out ont I hope, but what countriman is [...]ir Cutt. Rudeby?

Bul.

A Northern man, or a VVesternmā I take him, but my Captaine is the Emphaticall man; and by that pretty word Emphaticall [...]ou shall partly know him; for tis a very forcible word in troth, & yet he forces it too much by his fauour; mary no more then he does all the rest of his wordes; with whose multiplicitie often times he trauailes himsele out of all good company.

Iack

Like enough; he trauaild for nothing else.

VVil

But what qualities haunt Sir Gyles Goosecap now Sir?

Bul.

Sir Gyles Goosecap has alwayes a deathes head (as it were) in his mouth, [...]or his onely one reason for [...]uery thing is, because wee are all mortall; and therefore hee is generally cald the mortall knight; then hath he ano­ther prettie phrase too, and that is▪ he will tickle the va­nitie ant still in euery thing and this is your Summa tota­lis of both their virtues.

Ia.

Tis enough, tis enough, as long as they haue land enough, but now muster your thirde person afore vs I beseech you,

Bul.

The thirde person and second knight blunt Sir Cutt. Rudesby, is indeed blunt at a sharpe wit, and sharpe at a blun [...] wit a good bustling gal [...]ant talkes well at Rouers; he is two parts souldier; as slouenlie as a Swit­zer, and somewhat like one in face too; for he weares a bush beard wil dead a Cannon shott better then a wool­packe: hee will come in [...]o the presence like yor French­man [...]n foule bootes▪ and dares eate garlik as a prep [...]a­tiue to his Cour [...]ship; you shall knowe mo [...]e of hi [...] h [...]re­after; but good wags let me winne you now, for the Geographicall parts of your Ladies in requitall.

Wil

That you shall Sir, and the Hydrographicall too and you will; first my Ladie the widowe, and Countes [Page] [...]ugenia, is in earnest, a most worthy Ladie, and indeede can doe more then a thousand other Ladies can doe I can tell ye.

Bvl

Whats that I pray thee?

Iack.

Mary Sir, he meanes she can do more then sleep, and eate and drinke; and play at noddy, and helpe to make hir selfe readie.

Bul

Can she so?

Will

She is the best scholler of any woman but one in England, she is wi [...]e and vertuous,

Ia.

Nay shee has one stra [...]ge qualitie for a woman besides, tho these be strange enough that hee has reko­ned.

Bul.

For Gods sake whats that?

Ia.

She can loue reaso [...]able constantly, for she loued her husband only, almost a whole yeere togeather.

Bul.

Thats strange indeed, but what is youre faire Ladie Sir?

Ia.

My Ladie Sir, the Ladie Hippolita.

VVill

That is as chast as euer was Hippolitus.

Ia.

(True my prettie Parenthesis) is halfe a maid, halfe a wife, and hal [...]e a widdowe.

Bul.

Strange tale to tell; howe canst thou make this good my good Assumpsit.

Ia.

Thus Sir, [...]he was betroathed to a gallant young gentleman that loude hir with such passion and admi­ration that he neuer thought he could bee so blessed as to en [...]oy her in sull marriage, till the minister was mar­rying them, and euen then when he was saying I Charles take thee Hippolita; with extreame ioy he began to looke pale, then going forwardes saying to my wedded wife, he lookt paler, and, then pronouncing, for richer for poorer as long as we both shall liue, he lookt extreame pale; Now sir when she comes to speake her parte, and said, I Hippolota take thee Charles, hee began to faint for ioy, then saying to my wedded husband, hee began to sinke, but then going forth too for better sor wo [...]e, he [Page] coulde stand no longer but with verie conceit it seemd, that shee whome hee tendred as the best of all thinges, shoulde pronounce the worst, and for his sake too, hee suncke downe right, and died sodenly: And thus being halfe married, & her halfe husband wholy dead, I hope I may with discretion affirme her, halfe a maide, halfe a wife, and halfe a widdowe; do ye conceiu [...] me Sir?

Bul.

O Lord Sir, I deuoure you quicke; and now Sir I beseech you open vnto me your tother Ladie, what is shee?

Will

Ile answere for her, because I know her Ladiship to be a perfect maide indeed.

Bul

How canst thou know that?

Will

Passing perfectly I warrant ye.

Ia.

By measuring her necke twice, and trying if it will come about hir forehead, and slyp ouer her nose?

VVill

No Sir no, by a rule that wil not slip so I warrant you, which for hir honours sake I wil let slip vnto you, gods so Iack▪ I thinke they haue supt.

Ja.

Bir Ladie we haue waited wel the while.

Will

VVell though they haue lost their attendance, let not vs lose our Suppers Iack.

Iack

I doe not meane it, come Sir you shall goe in and drinke with vs y faith.

Bul.

Pardonne moy mounsieur.

both

[...]o pardoning in trueth Sir,

Bul

Ie vous remercy de-bon Ceur.

Exeunt.
Enter Goosecappe Rudesby Fouleweather Eugenia Hippol. Penelope, Wynne.
Rud.

A plague on you sweete Ladies, tis not so late, what needed you to haue made so short a supper.

Goos.

In truth Sir Cutt. we might haue tickled the va­nitie ant, an howre longer if my watch be trustible.

Foul.

I but how should theis bewties knowe that Sir Gyles? your watch is mortall, and may erre.

[Page]Go.

T [...]ats [...]ooth Captain, but do you hear hone [...] [...] pray take a light, and see if the mo [...]ne shine, I haue a Sunne diall will resolue presently.

Fo.

Howsoeuer belieue it Ladies, tis vnwholesome, vn­courtlie, vnpleasant to eate hastelie, & rise sodainly, a mā can shew no discourse, no witt, no stirring, no varietie, no prettie conceits, to make the meate goe down emphaticaly?

Eu.

Wi [...]fred.

Win.

M [...]dam.

Eu.

I prethie goe to my vnkle the Lord Momford, and intreat him to come quicken our eares with some of his pleas [...]nt Spirit; This [...]ame Fowleweather [...]as made me so melanchollie, prethie make haste.

Win.

I will madam.

E [...]it.
Hip.

VVe will bid our guests good night madam, this sa [...]e Fowleweather makes me so fleepie.

Pen.

Fie vppon it, for Gods sake shut the Casements, heres such a fulsome aire comes into this chamber; in good faith madame you must keepe your house in bet­ter reparations, this same Fowlweather beats in so filthily.

Eug.

Ile take order with the Porter for it Ladie, good night gentlemen.

Ru.

VVhy good night & be hāgd, & youl needs be gon.

Goos.

God giue you good night madams, thanke you for my good cheere, weele tickle the vani [...]e ant, no longer with you at this time, but ile ind [...]te your La: to supper at my lodging one of these mornings; and that ere long too, because we are all mortall you know.

Eu.

Light the Ladie Penelope, and the Ladie Hippolita to their chambers, good night faire Ladies.

Hip.

Good night madam, I wish you may sleepe well after your light supper.

Eug.

I warrant you Ladie I shall neuer be troubled with dreaming of my Frēch Suter.

Exeunt
Ru.

VVhy how now my Frēchified captain Fowlweather? by gods ludd thy Surname is neuer thought vpō here, I perceiue heeres no bodie giues thee any cōmendations.

Fo.

VVhy this is the vntrauaild rudnes of our grose Eng­lish [Page] Ladies [...]ow; would any French Ladie v [...]e a man thus thi [...]ke ye? be they any way so vnciuil, and fulsome? they say they weare fowle smockes, and course smockes, I say they lie, and I will die int.

Rud.

I, doe so, pray thee, thou shalt die in a very ho­norable cause, thy countries generall quarrell right.

F [...]l.

Their smockes quoth you? a my worde you shal take them vp so white, and so pure, so sweet, so Empha­ticall, so moouing.

Rud.

I marry Sir, I think they be continually mouing.

Foul.

But if their smockes were Course or foule.

Rud.

Nay I warrant thee thou ca rest not, [...]o thou wer: at them.

Foul

S'death they put not all their virtues in their smockes, or in their mockes, or in their stew de cockes as our Ladies doe.

Rud.

But in their stewde pox, theres all their gentili­tie.

Goos.

Nay good Sir Cutt. doe not agrauate him no more.

Fowl.

Then are they so kinde, so wise, so familiare so noble, so sweet in entertainment, that when you shal, haue cause to descourse or sometimes to come neerer! them; if your breath bee ill, your teeth ill, or any thing about you ill why they will presently breake with ye, in kind sort, good termes, pre [...]ty experiments, and tell you plaine this; thus it is with your breath Sir, thus it is with your teeth Sir, this is your disease, and this is your medicine.

Goos.

As I am true mortall Knight, it is most superla­tiuely good, this.

Foul.

Why this is Courtly now, this is sweete, this plaine, this is familiar, but by the Court of France, our peuishe dames are so proud, so precise, so coy, so disdain­ [...]full, and so subtill, as the Pomonean Serpent, mort dieu the Punck of Babilon was neuer so subtill.

Rud.

Nay doe not chafe so Captaine.

[Page]Foul.

Your Frenchman wood euer chase Sir Cutt, be­ing thus moude.

Rud.

VVhat? and play with his beard so.

Foul.

I and bry [...]le, it doth expresse that passion of an­ger very full and emphaticall.

Goos.

Nay good knight if your French wood bry [...]le, let [...]im alone, introth our Ladies are a little too coy and subtill Captaine indeed.

Foul.

Subtle Sir Giles Goosecappe? I assure your Soule, they are as subtill with their suters, or loues, as the La­tine Dialect where the nominatiue Case, and the verbe, the Sub [...]antiue, and the Adiectiue, the verbe, and the verbe, stand as far a sunder, as if they were perfect stran­gers one to another; and you shall hardly find them out, but then learne to Construe, and perse them, and you shall find them prepard, and acquainted, & agree toge­ther, in Case, gender, and number.

Goos.

I detest Sir Cutt, I did not thinke hee had bin halfe the quintissence of a [...]choller he is.

Foul.

Slydd theres not one of them truely emphatical.

Goos.

Yes Ile ensure you Captaine, there are many of them truely Emphaticall but all your French Ladies are not fatt? are they Sir?

Foul.

Fatt Sir, why doe yee thinke Emphaticall is fatt Sir Giles?

Rud.

Gods my life brother knight, didst thou thinke so? hart I know not what it is my selfe, but yet I neuer thought it was fatt, Ile be sworne to thee.

Foul.

Why if any true Courtly dame had had but this new fashioned sute, to entertaine any thing in different­ly stuffed, why you should haue had her more respectiue by farre.

Rud.

Nay theres some reason for that Captaine, me thinks a true woman should perpetually doate vppon a new fa [...]ion.

Foul.

VVhy y'are i'thright Sir Cutt. Innoua fert Ani [...] mus m [...]tatas dicere-formas. tis the mind of man, and wo­man [Page] to affect new fashions; but to our Mynsatiues for sooth, if he come like to your Besognio, or your bore, so he bee rich, or emphaticall, they care not; would I might neuer excell a dutch Skipper in Courtshippe if I did not put distaste into my cariage of purpose; I knew I should not please them. Lacquay? allume le torche.

Rud.

Slydd, heres nei [...]her Torch, nor Lacquay me thinks.

Foul.

O mon dew.

Rud.

O doe not sweare Captaine.

Foul.

Your Frenchman [...]uer sweares Sir Cutt, vpon the lacke of his Lacquay I assure you.

Goos.

See heere he comes, and my Ladies two pages, they haue bin tickling the vanitie ont yfa [...]th.

SCAeNA TERTIA.

Enter to them Iack Butlaker, Will.
La.

Captaine [...]owleweather, my Ladie the Countes Eugenia commends hir most kindly to you, and is deter­mined to morrowe morning earely if it be a frost to take her Coach to Barnet to bee nipt where if it please you, to meet her, and accompany her homewarde, ioyning your wit with the frost, and helpe to nippe her, She does not doubt but tho you had a sad supper, you will haue a ioyfull breakefast.

Foul.

I shall indeed my deeare youth.

Rud.

Why Captaine I abusd thee, I see: I said the La­dies respected thee not, and n [...]w Iperceiue the widowe is in loue with thee.

Foul.

Sblood knight I knew I had strucke her to the quicke, I wondred shee departed in that extrauagant fashion: I am sure I past one Passado of Courtship vppon her, that has hertofore made a lane amongst the French Ladies like a Culuering [...]hot, Ile be sworne; and I think Sir Gyles you saw how she fell vnder it.

Goos.

O as cleare as can dlelight, by this day-light.

Rud.

O good knight a the post, heele sweare any thing.

Will

The other two Ladies commend them no lesse kindly to you two knights too; & desire your worships wood meete them at Barnet ith morning with the Cap­taine.

Foul. Goos. Rud.

O. good Sir.

[Page]Goos.

Our worships shal attend their Ladiships thether.

Ia.

No Sir Giles by no meanes, they will goe priuately thether, but if you will meet them there.

Rud.

Meet them, weele die fort, but weele meet them.

Foul.

Lets goe thether to night knights, and you bee true gailants.

Rud.

Content.

Ja.

How greedely they take it in Sirra.

Goos.

No it is too farre to goe to night, weele bee vp betimes ith morning, and not goe to bedd at all.

Foul.

Why its but ten miles, & a fine cleere nightS. Gyles

Goos.

But ten miles? what doe ye talke Captaine?

Rud.

VVhy doost thinke its any more?

Goos.

I, [...]elaie ten pounds its more then ten mile, or twelue either.

Rud.

VVhat to Barnet?

Gous.

I, to Barnet?

Ru.

Slidd, Ile laie a hūdred poūd with thee, if thou wilt.

Goos.

Ile laie fiue hundred, to a hundred, Slight I will not be out borne with a wager, in that I know, I am sure it was foure yeares agon ten miles thether, and I hope tis more now, Slidd doe not miles growe thinke you, as well as other Animals.

Ia.

O wise Knight!

Gos.

I neuer Innd in the Towne but once, and then they lodged me in a Chamber so full of theise Ridicu­lus Fleas, that I was faine to lie standing all night, and yet I made my man rise, and put out the candle too, be­cause they should not see to bire me.

Foul.

A prettie proiect.

Bul.

Intruth Captain if I might aduise you, you should tarrie, and take the morning afore you.

Foul.

How? O [...]on Diew, how the villaine poulltrou [...]e, dishonours his trauaile? you Buffonly Mouchroun, are you so mere rude, and English to aduise your Captaine?

Ru.

Nay I prethie Fouleweather be not tēpesteous with thy poore Lacquay.

Foul.

Tēpesteous Sir Cutt, will your Frenchman thinke you, suffer his Lacquay to adui [...]e him?

[Page]Go.

O God you must take heed Lacquy how you aduise your captain, your Frēch lacquay would not haue donit.

Foul.

He would haue bin poxt [...]irst: Allume le torche, sweet pages commend vs to your Ladies, say wee kisse their white handes, and will not faile to meete them▪ knights which of you leades?

Goos.

Not we Sir, you are a Captaine, and a leader.

Rud.

Besides, thou art commended for the better man, for thou art very Commendations it selfe, and Captaine Commendations.

Foul.

VVhy, what tho I be Captaine Commendati­ons?

Rud.

VVhy and Captain comme ndations, is hartie? commendations, for Captaines are hartie I am sure, or else hang them,

Foul.

VVhy, what if I bee harty Commendations, come, come, sweete knights leade the way.

Rud.

O Lorde Sir, alwaies after my hartie Commen­dations.

Foul.

Nay then you conquer mee with president, by the Autenticall forme of all Iustice letters. Alloun.

Exeunt.
Ia.

Heres a most sweet Gudgeon swallowed, is there not?

Will

I but how will they disgest it thinkest thou? when they shall finde our Ladies not there?

Ia.

I haue a vaunt-Curriing deuise shall make them digest it most healthfully.

Exeunt.

SCAeNA QVARTA.

Enter Clarence Musuians.
Cla.
VVorke on sweet loue, I am not yet resolud
T'exhaust this troubled spring of vanities
And nurse of perturbations, my poore life,
And therefore since in euery man that holds
This being deare, there must be some desire
VVhose power to' enioy his obiect may so maske
[Page]The Iudging part that in her radyant eyes
His estimation of the world may seeme
Vpright, and worthy, I haue chosen loue
To blind my Reason with his mistie handes
And make my estimatiue power beleiue
I haue a proiect worthy to imploy
VVhat worth so euer my whole man affordes:
Then sit at rest my Soule, thou now hast found
The ende of thy infusion, in the eyes
Of thy diuine Eugenia looke for heauen.
Cla.

Thanks gentle friends is your good Lord and mine, gon vp to bedd yet?

A song to the Uiolls
Enter Momford.
Mom.

I do assure ye not Sir, not yet, nor yet, my deep, and studious friend, not yet musicall Clarence.

Cla.

My Lord?

Mom,

Nor yet, thou sole deuider of my Lordshippe.

Cla.
That were a most vnfit diuision
And farre aboue the pitche of my lowe plumes
I am your bold and constant guest my Lord.
Mom.
Far, far from bold, for thou hast known me long
Almost theis twentie yeares, and halfe those yeares
Hast bin my bedfellow; long time before
This vnseene thing, this thing of nought indeed
Or Atome cald, my Lordshippe shinde in me,
And yet thou makst thy sel [...]e as little bould
To take such kindnes, as becomes the Age
And truth of our indissolable loue
As our acquaintance sprong but yesterday
Such is thy gentle and too tender Spirit.
Cla.
M [...] Lord, my want of Courtship makes me feare
I should be rude, and this my meane estate
Mee [...]es with such enuie, and detraction
Such misconstructions, and resolud misdoomes
Of my poore worth, that should I be aduaunc'd
[Page]Beyond my vnseene lowen [...]s, but one hai [...]e
I should be torne in peeces with the Spirits
That flye in ill-lungd tempests through the world,
Tearing the head of vertue from her shoulders
If she but looke out of the ground of glorie.
Twixt, whome, and me and euery worldlie fortune
There fiights such sowre, and Curst Antipathy
So waspi [...]he, and so petulant a Starre,
That a [...]l things tending to my grace or good
Are rauisht from their obiect, as I were
A thing created for a wildernes
And must not thinke of any place with men.
Mom.

O harke you Sir, this waiwarde moode of yours must syfted be, or rather rooted out, youle no more musick Sir?

Cla.

Not now my Lord,

Mom.

Begon my masters then to bedd, to bedd.

Cla.

I thanke you honest fri [...]nds

Exeunt Musicians.
Mo.

Hence with this book & now Mou [...]sieur Clarence, methinks plaine & prose friendship would do excellent well betwixt vs comethus Sir, or rather thus, come Sir tis time I trowe that we both liu'd like one bodie, thus, a [...]d that both our sides were sli [...], and Concorporat with Organs fit to effect an indiuiduall passage euen for out very thoughts; suppose wee were one bodie now, and I charge you beleeue it; where of I am the hart, and you the liuer.

Cla.

Your Lordship might well make that diuision if you knew the plaine song.

Mom.

O Sir, and why so I pray?

Cla.

First because the heart, is the more worthy en­traile, being the first that is borne, and moues, and the last that moues, and dies; and then being the fountaine of heate too, for wheresoeuer our heate does not flowe directly from the hart to the other Organs, there, their action must of necessitie cease, and so without you I ne­ther would nor could liue.

[Page]Mom.

VVel Sir for these reasons I may be the heart▪ why may you be the liuer now?.

Cla.

I am more then ashamde, to tell you that my Lord.

Mom.

Nay nay be not too suspitious of my iudgemēt, in you I beseech you: asham'd friend? if your loue ouer­come not that shame, a shame take that loue I saie. Come sir why may you be the li [...]er?

Cla.

The plaine and short truth is (my Lord) because I am all liuer, and tournd louer.

Mom.

Louer?

Cla

Louer y faith my Lord.

Mom.

Now I prethee let me leape out of my skin for ioy why thou wil [...] not now reviue the sociable mirth of thy sweete disposition? wilt thou shine in the world a new? and make those that haue fleighted thy loue, with the Austeritie of thy knowledge, doate on the againe with thy commaunding [...]haft of their humors?

Cla.

A las my Lord they are all farre out of my aimes and onely to fit my selfe a little better to your friend­shippe, haue I giuen these wilfull raygnes to my affec­tions.

Mom.

And y faith is my sower friend to all worldlie desires ouertaken with the hart of the world? Loue I shall be monstrous proud now, to heare shees euerie way a most rare woman that I know thy spirit, & iudge­ment hath chosen, is she wise? is she noble? is she capa­ble of thy vertues? will she kisse this forehead with iudi­ciall lipps? where somuch iudgement & vertue deserues it? Come brother Twinn, be short I charge you, & name me the woman.

Cla.

Since your Lordship will shorten the length of my follies relation, the woman that I so passionateli [...] loue, is no worse Ladie then your owne Neece, the too worthi [...] Countesse Euge [...]ia.

Mom.

VVhy so, so, so, you are a worthie friend are you not to conce [...]le this loue-mine in your head, and [Page] would not open it to your hart, now beshrow my hart, if my hart dance not for ioy tho my hee [...]es do not, & they doe not, because I will not set that at my heeles that my friends set at his heart, what? friende and Nephew? both nephewis a far inferior title to friend I confesse, but I wil preferre the backwards (as many friends doe) & leaue their friends woorse then they found them,

Cla.

But my noble Lo. it is almost a prodegie, that I being onely a poore Gentleman and farre short of that state and wealth that a Ladie of her greatnesses in both will expect in her husband.

Mom.

Hold thy doubt friend, neuer feare any woman, vnlesse thy selfe be made of strawe, or some such drie matter, and she of lightning, Audacitie pros­pers aboue probabilitie in all worldhe matters, dost not thou knowe that Fortune gouernes them without order, and therefore reason the mother of order is none of her counsaile, why should a man desiring to aspire an vnreasonable creature which is a woman? seeke her fruition by reasonable meanes, because thy selfe bindes vppon reason, wilt thou looke for congruitie in a wo­man? why? there is not one woman amongst one thou­sand, but will speake false Latine, and breake Priscians head, attempt nothing that you may with great reason doubt of, and out of doubt you shall obtaine nothing, I tell thee friend the enmine [...]t confidence of strong spirits is the onely wich-craft of this world, Spirits wrastling with spirits, as bodies? with bodies? this were enough to make the hope well, if she were one of these painted communities, that are rauisht with Coaches, and vpper hands, and braue men of durt: but thou knowest friend shees a good scholler, and like enough to, bite at the rightest reason, and reason euermore Ad optima hortetur: to like that which is best, not that which is brauest, or rightest, or greatest, and so consequently worst, But proue what she can, we will turne her, and winde her, and [Page] make her so plyant that we will drawe her through a wedding ring y faith.

Cla.

Would to god we might my Lord.

Mom.

Ile warrant thee friend.

Enter Messenger.
Mes.

VVhere is mistris Winnyfred; for my Lady Euge­nia desires to speake with your Lordshippe.

Mom.

Marrie enter mistris Winnifred euen here I pray thee, from the Ladie E [...]genia, doe you heare friend?

Cla.

Very easilie on that side my Lord.

Mom.

Let me feele? does not thy heart pant apace, by my hart well labor'd Cupid, the field is yours sir God, and vppon a verie honourable composition, I am sent for now I am sure, and must euen trusse and to her:

Enter Winnyfred.

wittie mistris Winnifred, nay come neere woman I am sure this Gentleman thinkes his chamber the sweeter for your deare presence.

Win,

My absence shall thanke him my Lord.

Mom.

VVhat rude Mistris Winnifred? nay faith you shall come to him, and kisse him, for his kindenesse.

Win.

Nay good my Lord, Ile neuer goe to the mar­ket for that ware I can haue it brought hōe to my dore

Mom.

O Winnifred, a man may know by the m [...]r­ket folkes how the market goes.

Win.

So you may my Lord, but I knowe fewe Lords that thinke scorne to go to that market thēselues.

Mom.

To goe to it Winnifred, nay to ride to it y faith.

Win.

Thats more then I knowe my Lord.

Mom.

Youle not belieue it till you are then a horse­backe, will ye?

Win.

Come, come, I am sent of a message to you wil you heare it?

Mom.

Stoppe, stoppe faire Winnifred, would you haue audience so soone, there were no state in that y faith; this faire gentlewoman sir.

Win.

Nuw we shall haue a fiction I beleiue.

Mom.

Had three Suiters at once.

[Page]Win.

Youle leaue out none my Lord.

Mom▪

No more did you Winnifred you enterferde with them all in [...].

Win.

O Monstrous Lord by this light!

Mom.

Now Sir [...] make my tale short I will doe that which she did not; vz. leaue out the two first, the third comming the third night for his turne.

Win.

My Lord, my Lord, my Ladie does that, that no bodie else does, desires your companie and so fare you well.

Mom.

O stay a little sweet Winnifred, helpe me but to [...] my pointes againe, and haue with you.

Win.

Not I by my truth my Lord, I had rather see your hose about your heeles, then I would helpe you to trusse a point.

Mom.

O wittie Winnifred? for that left, take thy pas­port, and tell thy Ladies thou leftst me with my hose about my heeles.

Win.

Well, well my Lord you shall sit till the mosse grow a bout you [...] he les, ere I come at you againe.

aexit.
Mom.

She cannot abide to heare of her three Sui­ [...]; but is not this verie fit my sweete Clarence? Thou [...] my rare Neece cannot sleep without me; but forthy company sake, she shall to night; and in the morning I will visit her earely; when doe thou but stand in that place, and thou maie [...]t chance heare, (but art sure to see) in what subtill, and farre-fetcht manner Ile solicite her about thee.

Cla

Thanks worthie Lord.

exeunt.
Finis. Actus Primis

ACTVS SECVNDI

SAeNA PRIMA

Clarence Solus.
Cla.

I That haue studied with world- [...] thoughts the waie of heauen, and how [...]rew heauen is reacht

To know how mightie, and how many are
The strange affections of inchaunted number
How to distinguish all the motions
Of the Celestiall bodies, and what powre
doth seperate in such forme this massie Rownd:
VVhat is his Essence, Efficacies, Beames?
Footesteps, and Shadowes? what Eternes [...]es is
The world, and Time, and Generation?
VVhat Soule, the worldes Soule is? what the blacke Springes
And vnreueald Originall of Things,
VVhat their perse [...]erance▪ what is life and death,
And what our Certaine Restauration?
Am with the staid▪heads of this Time imployd
To watch withall my Nerues a Female shade.
Enter Wynnefred, Anabell, with their sowing workes and sing: After their song Enter Lord Momford.
Mom.

VVitty Mistrisse Wynnefred, where is your [...] I pray?

Wyn.

Faith your Lordship is bould enough to [...]eeke her out, i [...] she were at her vrinall?

Mom.

Then Sh'as done it seemes, for here she comes to saue mee that labour, away wenches, get you hence wenches.

Exeunt.
Eu.

VVhat, can you not abide my maides vnkle?

Mom.

I neuer [...]ood abide a maid in my life Neece, but either I draw away the maid, or the maidenhead with a wet finger.

Eu.

You loue to make your selfe worse then you are stil.

Mom.

I know fewe mend in this world Madam, For the worse the better thought on, the better the worse spoken on euer amongst women.

Eu.

I wonder where you haue binne all this while with your sentences.

Mom,

Faith where I must be again presently. I can­not stay long with you my deere Neece.

[Page]Eu.

By my faith but you shall my Lorde, Gods pittie what wil become of you shortly, that you driue maids a­fore you, & offer to leaue widowes behind you, as man­kindelie, as if you had taken a surfet of our Sex lately, and our very sight turnd your stomacke.

Mom.

Gods my life, She abuses her best vnkle; ne­uer trust mee if it were not a good reuenge to helpe her to the losse of her widowhead.

Eu.

That were a reuenge and a halfe, indeed.

Mom.

Nay twere but a whole reuenge Neece, but such a reuenge as woulde more then obserue the true rule of a reuenge.

Eu.

I know your rule before you vtter it, Vlciscere Ini­mico sed sine tuo incommodo.

Mom.

O rare Neece, you may see, what tis to bee a a scholler now, Learning in a woman is like waight in gold, or Luster in Diamants, which in no other Stone is so rich or refulgent

Eug.

But say deere Vnckle how could you finde in your heart to stay so long from me.

Mom.

VVhy alas Neece, y'are so smeard with this willfull-widdowes three-yeeres blacke weede, that I neuer come to you, but I dreame of Courses, and Sepul­chres, and Epitaths, all the night after, and therefore a­dew deere Neece.

Eug.

Beshrew my hearte my Lorde, if you goe theis three houres.

Mom.

Three houres? nay Neece, if I daunce atten­dance three houres (alone in her chamber) with an La­dy so neere alide to me, I am verie idle isaith, marie with such an other; I woulde daunce, one, two, three, foure, and fiue, tho it cost me tenne shillings; and now I am in, haue at it, my head must deuise something while my feet are pidling thus, that may bring her to some fit consi­deration of my friend, who indeed is only a great schol­ler▪ and all his honours, and riches lie in his mind.▪

Eug.

Come, Come, pray tell me vnckle, how does my [Page] cosen Momford?

Mom.

VVhy, well, verie well Neece, & so is my friend Clarence well too, & then is there a worthie gentleman well as any is in England I can tell ye.

Eug.

But when did you see my Cosen?

Mom.

And tis pittie but he should do well, and he shall be well too, if all my wealth will make him well.

Eug.

VVhat meanes hee by this tro yee, your Lo: is verie dancitiue me thinkes.

Mom.

I, and I could tel you a thing would make your Ladiship verie dancitiue, or else it were verie dunsatiue yfaith. O how the skipping of this Christmas blocke of ours moues the blockhead heart of a woman, & indeed any thing that pleaseth the foolish eye which presently runnes with a lying tale of Excellence to the mind.

Eug.

But I pray tell me my Lord could you tell me of a thing would make me dance say you?

Mom.

VVel, farewell sweet Neece I must needs take my leaue in earnest.

Eug.

Lord blesse vs, heres such a stir with your farewels.

Mom.

I wil see you againe within these two or three dayes a my woord Neece.

Eug.

Gods pretious, two or three dayes? why this Lord is in a marualous strange humor. Sit downe sweet Vnckle, yfaith I haue to talke with you about greate matters.

Mom.

Say then deere Neece, bee shorte vtter your mind quickly now.

Eug.

But I pray tell me first, whats that would make me daunce yfaith?

Mom.

Daunce, what daunce? hetherto your daun­cers legges bow for-sooth, and Caper, and Ierke, and Firke, and dandle the bodie aboue them, as it were their great childe, though the speciall Ierker bee aboue this place I hope, here lies that shudd fetch a perfect woman ouer the Coles yfaith.

Eug.

Nay good Vnckle say whats the thing you [Page] could tel me of.

Mom.

No matter, no matter▪ But let mee see a pas­s [...]g prosperous forchead of an exceeding happie di­stāce betwixt the eye browes; a cle [...] lightning eye; a temperate and [...]eshe bloud in both the cheekes; excel­lent m [...]arkes, most excellent markes of good fortune.

Eug.

VVhy, how now Vnckle did you neuer see mee before!

Mom.

Yes N [...]ce▪ but the state of these thinges at this instant must bee specially obserued, and these out­warde signes being now in this cleere eleuation, showe your [...]oubled mind is in an excellent power, to pre­ferre them to act forth then a litle deere N [...]ce.

Eug.

This is excellent.

Mom.

The Creses here are excellent good; The propor [...]ion of the chin good; the little aptnes of it to sticke out; good. And the wart aboue it most excee­ding good. Neuer trust me, if all things bee not answe­rable to the predictiō of a most diuine fortune towards her; uow if shee haue the grace to apprehend it in the nicke; thers all.

Eug.

VVell my Lorde, since you will not tell me your secret, ile keepe another from you; with whose discoue­rie, you may much pleasure mee, and whose conceale­ment may hurt my es [...]ate. And if you bee no [...]inder then to see mee so indangered; ile bee very patient of it I assure you.

Mom.

Nay then it must instantly foorth. This kind con iuration euen fires it out of me; and (to be short) gather all your Iudgment togeather, for here it comes. Neece; Clarence Clarence, rather my Soule then my [...]riēd Clarence of too substantiall a worth, to haue any figures cast a­bout him, (notwithstanding, no other woman with Empires could stirre his affections) is with your vertue [...] most extreamely in loue; and without your requitall dead. And with it [...]ame sh [...]ll [...]ound this golden disticke through the world of you both.

No [...] illo melior quisquam nec amantior aequi
Vir fu [...]t, aut illa reuerentior vlla Dearum.
Eug.
Ay me poore Dame, O you amase me Vnckle,
Is this the wondrous fortune you presage?
VVhat man may miserable women trust?
Mom.

O peace good Ladie, I come not to rauishe you to any thi [...]g. But now I see how you accept my mo­tion: I perceiue (how vpon true triall) you esteeme me. Haue I ridd al this C [...]cuite to leuie the powers of your Iudgment, that I might not prooue their strength too sodainly with so violent a charge: And doe they fight it out in white bloud. And showe me their hearts in the soft Christall of teares

Eug.

O vnckle you haue wounded your selfe in charg­ing me that I should shun Iudgement as a monster, if it woulde not weepe; I place the poore felicitie of this worlde in a woorthie friende, and to see him so vnwor­thely reuolted, I shedd not the teares of my Brayne, but the teares of my soule. And if euer nature made teares theffects of any worthie cause, I am su [...]e I now shedde them worthelie.

Mom.

Her sensuall powers are vp yfaith, I haue thrust her soule quite from her Tribunall. This is her Sedes va­cans when her sub [...]ects are priueledged to libell against her, and her friends. But weeps my kind Neece for the wounds of my friendshippe? and I toucht in friendship for wishing my friende doubled in her singular happi­nesse?

Eug.

How am I doubl'd? when my honour, and good name, two essentiall parts of mee; woulde bee lesse, and lost?

Mom.

In whose Iudgment?

Eug.

In the iudgment of the world.

Mom.

Which is a fooles boult. Nihil a vertute nec a viritate remotius quam Vulgaris opi [...]: But my deare Neece, [Page] it is most true that your honour and good name ten­dred [...] they are the species of truth are worthilie two essentiall parts of you; But as they consist only in ayrie titles and corrupteble blood (whose bitternes sanitas et non nobilitas efficit) and care not how many base and exe crable acts they commit, they touch you no more then they touch [...]nitie. And yet shal no nobilitie you haue in either, be impaired neither.

Eu.

Not to marrie a poore gentleman?

Mom.

Respect him not so; for as he is a gentleman he is noble; as he is welthilie furnished with true know­ledge, he is rich and therein adorn'd with the exa­test complements belonging to euerlasting noblenesse.

Eug.

Which yet will not maintaine him a weeke: Such kinde of noblenesse giues no cotes of honour nor can scarse gette a cote for necessitie

Mom.

Then is it not substantiall knoweledge (as it is in him) but verball and fantasticall for Om [...]a in illa ▪ille. complexutenet.

Eug.

VVhy seekes he me then?

Mom.

To make you ioynt partners with him in all thinges, and there is but a little partiall difference be­twixt you, that hinders that vniuersall ioynture: The bignesse of this ci [...]cle held too neer our eye keepes it frō the whole Spheare of [...]he Sunne but; could we sustaine it indifferently betwixt [...] and it, it would then without checke of one beame appeare in his fulnes.

Eug.

Good Vnckle be content for now shall I ne­uer dreame of contentment.

Mom.

I haue more then done Ladie, and had rather haue suffer'd an alteration of my being then of your Iudgement; but (deere neece) for your owne honour sake repaire it instantly.

Enter Hippolita. Penelope. Jack. Will.

See heere comes the Ladies; make an A­prill day one dear [...] loue and be sodainely cheere­full [Page] God saue you more then faire Ladies, I am glad your come, for my busines will haue me gone pre­sently.

Hip.

VVhy my Lord Mo [...]ford I say? wil you goe be­fore dinner?

Mom.

No remedie sweete Bewties, for which rude­ne [...]e I lay my hands thus lowe for your pardons:

Pen.

O Courteous Lord Momford!

Mom.

Neece? Mens estquae sola qui [...]s. Sola facit claros ment emque honoribus ornat

ex [...]
Eug

Verus honos [...]at at mendax infamia terret.

Mon.

Mine owne deare nephew?

Cla.

VVhat successe my Lord?

Mom.

Excellent; excellent; come Ile tell thee all.

exeunt
Hip.

Doe you heare madam, how our youthes h [...]re haue guld our three suiters?

Eug

not I Ladie, I hope our suiters are no fit meat for our Pages.

Pe.

No madam, but they are fit sawce for anie mans meat Ile warrant them.

Eug.

VVhat's the matter Hippolita?

Hp.

They haue sent the knightes to Barnet madam this frostie morning to meete vs their.

E [...]ug.

I'st true youths, are knights fit subiec [...] for your knaueries▪

Wil.

Pray pardon vs madam, we would be glad to please anie body.

[...]a.

I indeed madam and we were sure we pleas [...]d thē highly to tell thē you were def [...]rous of their companie.

Hip.

O twas good Eugenia, their liuers were too hot, you know, and for temper sake they must needes haue a cooling carde plaid vpon them.

Wil.

And besides madam we wood haue them knowe that your two little Pages, which are lesse by hal [...] [Page] [...]hen two leaues, haue more learning in them then is in all their three volumnes.

Ia.

I faith Will, and putt their great pagicall index to them too.

Hip.

But how will ye excuse your abuses wags?

Will

We doubt not madam, but if it please your La­diship to put vp their abuses,

Ia.

Trusting they are not so deere to you, but you may.

Will

Wee shall make them gladly furnishe their poc­kets with them.

Hip.

VVell, children, and foules, agree as you will, and let the world knowe now, women haue nothing to doe with you.

Pe.

Come madam I thinke your dinner bee almost readie,

Enter Tales Kingcob.
Hip.

And see, here are two honorable guestes for you, the Lord Tales, and Sir Cutberd Kingcob.

Ta.

Lacke you any guests madam?

Eu.

I my Lord such guests as you.

Hip

Theres as common an answere, as yours was a question my Lord.

King.

VVhy? al things shood be cōmon betwixt Lords, and Ladies you know.

Pen.

Indeed Sir Kuttberd Bingcob, I haue heard, you are either of the familie of Loue, or of no religion at all.

Eug.

Hee may well be said to be of the family of Loue, he does so flowe in the loues of poore ouerthrowne La­dies.

King.

You speake of that I wood doe madam, but in earnest, I am now suing for a newe mistres; looke in my hand sweet Ladie, and tell mee what fortune I shall haue with her.

[...]ug.

Doe you thinke me a witch, Sir Cutberd?

King.

Pardon mee Madam, but I know you to bee learnd in all [...]hinges.

Eug.

Come on lets see.

[Page]Hip.

He does you a speciall fauour Ladie, to giue you his open hand, for tis commonly shut they say.

King.

VVhat find you in it madam?

Eug.

Shut it now and ile tell yee.

King.

VVhat now Ladi [...]?

Eug.

Y'aue the worst hand that euer I saw knight haue▪ when tis open, one can find nothing in it, and when tis shutt one can get nothing out ont.

King.

The age of letting goe is past madam, wee must not now let goe, but strike vp mens heeles, and take am as they fall.

Eug.

A good Cornish principle belieue it Sir Cuttberd.

Tales

But I pray tell me Ladie Penelope, how entertaine you the loue of my Cosen Sir Gyles Goosecappe.

Pene.

Are the Goosecaps a kin to you my Lord.

Ta.

Euen in the first degree madam. And Sir Gyles I can tell ye, tho he seeme something simple, is composd of as many good parts as any knight in England.

Hip,

He shood be put vp for concealement then, for he shewes none of them.

Pen.

Are you able to reckon his good parts my Lord?

Ta.

Ile doe the best I can Ladie, [...]irst, hee daunces as comely and lightly as any man, for vpon my honour, I haue seene him daunce vpo [...] Egges, and a has not bro­ken them.

Pen.

Nor crackt them neither.

Ta.

That I know not, indeed I wood bee loath, to lie though he be my kinsman, to speake more then I know by him.

Eug.

VVell forth my Lord.

Ta.

He has an excelēt skil in al maner of perfumes, & if you bring him glones fro fortie pence, to forty Shillings a paire he will tell you the price of them to two pence.

Hip.

A prettie sweet qualitie belieue me.

Tales

Nay Ladie hee will perfume you gloues him selfe; most dilicately, and giue them the right Spanish Titillation.

[Page]Titillation whats that my Lord?

Tal.

VVhy Ladie tis a pretty kinde of terme newe come vp in perfuming, which they call a Titillation.

Hip.

Very well expounded my Lord; forth with your kinsmans parts I pray.

Tal.

Hee is the best Sempster of any woman in Eng­land, and will worke you needle worke edgings, and French purles from an Angell to foure Angells a yearde.

Eug.

Thats pretious ware indeed.

Tal.

He will worke you any flower to the life, as like it as if it grewe in the verie place, and being a delicate perfumer, hee will giue it you his perfect and naturall sauor.

Hip.

This is wonderful; forth sweet Lord Tales.

Tal.

He will make you flyes and wormes, of all sortes most liuely, and is now working a whole bed embro­dred, with nothing but glowe wormes; whose lightes a has so perfectly done, that you may goe to bed in the chamber, doe any thing in the Chamber, without a Candle.

Pene.

Neuer trust me if it be not incredible; forth my good Lord.

Tal.

Hee is a most excellent Turner, and will turne you wassel-bowles, and posset Cuppes caru'd with Lib­berdes faces, and Lyons heades with spoutes in their mouthes, to let out the posset Ale, most artificially.

Eug.

Forth good Lord Tales.

Pene.

Nay good my Lord no more, you haue spoken for him thoroughly I warrant you.

Hip.

I lay my life Cupid has shott my sister in loue with him out of your lipps my Lord.

Eug.

VVel, come in my Lords, and take a bad dinner with me now, and wee will all goe with you at night to a better supper with the Lord, and Ladie Furnifall.

King. Tale.

VVe attend you honorable Ladies.

Exeu [...].

ACTVS TERTII

SCAeNA PRIMA▪

Enter Rudes [...] Goosecappe.
Rud.

Bullaker.

Bul.

I Sir.

Rud.

Ride and catch the Captaines horse.

Bul.

So I doe Sir.

Rud.

I wonder Sir Gyles you wood let him goe [...], and not ride after him.

Goos.

VVood I might neuer be mortall Sir C [...]tt: if I ridd not aftter him, till my horse sweat, so that he had nere a drie thread on him, & hollod & hollod to him to stay him, till I had thought my fingers ends wood haue gon off with hollowings; Ile be sworn to ye & yet he ran his way like a Diogenes, and would neuer stay for vs.

Rud.

How shall wee doe to get the [...] Captaine to London, now his horseis gone?

Goos.

Why hee is but a lame Iade neither Sir Meyle, we shal soone our'take him I warrant ye.

Rud.

And yet thou saist thou gallopst after him as fast as thou coodst, and coodst not Catch him; I lay my life some Crabfishe has bitten thee by the tongue, thou speakest so backward still.

Goos.

But heres all the doubt Sir Cutt: if nobo­die shoold catch him now, when hee comes at London, some boy or other wood get vppe o [...] him and ride him [...]otte into the water to washe him; Ile bee sworne I followed one that ridd my horse into the Thames, till I was vppe tooth knees hetherto; and if it had not beene for feare of going ouer shooes, because I am troubled with the rheume, I wood haue taught him to washe my horse when hee was

Enter Foul.

hott yfath; how now sweet Captaine dost feele any [...] in thy payne yet▪

[Page]Rud.

Ease in his paine quoth you, has good lucke if he feele ease in paine I thinke, but wood any asse in the world ride downe such a hill as Highgate is, in such a frost as this, and neuer light

Foul.

Gods pretious Sir Cutt. your Frenchman neuer lights I tell ye.

Goos.

Light Sir Cutt, Slight and I had my horse again, theres nere a paltrie English frost an them all shood make me light.

Rud.

Goe too you French Zanies you, you wil follow the french steps so long, till you be notable to set one Sound Steppe oth ground all the daies of your life.

Goos.

Why Sir Cut I care not if I be not sound so I be well but we were iustly plaugde, by this hill for fol­lowing women thus.

Foul.

I and English weomen too sir Giles.

Rud.

Thou arr still prating against English women I haue seene none of the French dames I confesse, but your greatest gallants for men in Fraunce, were here late­ly I am sure, and methinkes there should be no more difference bet [...]ixt our Ladies and theirs, then there is betwixt our Lordes and theirs, and our Lor [...]s are as farr beyond them yfaith, for person, and Courtshippe, as they are beyond ours for phantasticallitie.

Foul.

O Lord sir Cut, I am sure our Ladies hold our Lords tack for Courtshippe, and yet the french Lodrs put them downe, you noted it sir Gyles.

Goos.

O God sir, I stud and heard it, as I satith pre­sence.

Rud.

How did they put them downe I pray thee?

Foul.

Why for wit, and for Court-shippe Sir Moile.

Foul.

As how good lefthandded Francois.

Fou..

VVhy Sir when Meuusieur Lambois came to your mistris the Ladie Hippolita as she sate in the presence, sitt downe here good Sir Gyles Goosecappe, hee kneeld me by her thus Sir, and with a most queint French Arte in his speech of ah bellissime, I desire to die now sa [...]es hee for [Page] in his speech of ah bellissime I desire to die now saies he for your loue that I might be buried here.

Rud.

A good pick-thacht complement by my faith; but I prethee what answer'd she.

Foul.

She, [...] scorne to note that I hope then did he vie it againe with an other hah.

Rud.

That was hah, hah, I wood haue put the third hah to it, if I had been as my mistris, and hah, hah, haht him out of the presence yfaith,

Foul.

Hah saies he, theis faire eyes, I wood not for a million they were in Fraunce, they wood renewe all our ciuill-wars againe.

Goose.

That was not so good me thinkes captaine.

Rud.

Welliudgd yfaith, there was a little wit in that I must cōfesse, but she put him down far, & aūswered him with aquestiō & that was whether he wood s [...]em a louer or a ie stter, if a louer a must tel her far more lykelier then those, or else she was far frō belieuing thē, if a Iester, she cood haue much more ridiculous iests then his of twenty fooles that followed the court, and told him she had as lieue be courted with a brush faggot as with a frēchman, that spēt it selfe al in sparks, & would sooner­fire ones chimney then warme the house, and that such fparkes were good enough yet to set thatcht dispositiōs a fire, but hers was tild with sleight, and respected thē as sleightly.

Goos.

VVhy so Captaine, and yet you talke of your great frenchmen, to God little England had neuer knowne them I may say.

Foul.

VVhat's the matter sir Giles, are you out of loue with frenchmen now of a sodaine.

Goos.

Slydd captaine VVood not make one, Ile be sworne, Ile be sworne, they tooke away a mastie dogge of mine by commission now, I thinke on't makes my teares stand in my eyes with greefe, I had rather lost the dearest friend that euer I lay withal, in my life be this light, neuer stir if [Page] if hee fought not with great Sekerson foure hours to one, foremoste take vp hindmoste, and tooke so many loaues from him, that hee sterud him presently: So at last the dogg cood doe no more then a Beare cood doe, and the beare being heauie with hunger you know, fell vppon the dogge, broke his backe, and the dogge neuer stird more.

R [...]ud.

VVhy thou saist the frenchmen tooke him away.

Goos.

Frenchmen, I, so they did too, but yet and hee had not bin kild, twood nere a greeud me.

Foul.

O excellent vnitie of speach.

Enter Will and Iacke at seuerall doores.
Will

Saue ye knights.

Ia.

Saue you Captaine.

Faul.

Pages, welcome my fine pages.

Rud.

Welcome boyes.

Goos.

VVelcome sweet Will, good Iacke.

Foul.

But how chaunce you are so farre from London now pages, is it not almost dinner time.

Will

Yes indeed Sir, but we left our fellowes to wait for once, and cood not chuse in pure loue to your worships, but we must needs come and meet you, before you mett our Ladies, to tell you a secret.

Omnes

A secrett, what secret I pray thee?

Ia.

If euer your worships say any thing▪ we are vndone for euer.

Omnes

Not for a world beleue it.

Will

VVhy then this it is; wee oue [...]heard our Ladies as they were talking in priuate say they refusde to meet you at Barnet this morning of purpose, because they wood try which of you were most patient.

Ia.

And some said you, Sir Gyles, another you Sir and the third you Captaine,

Om.

This was excellent.

Will

Then did they sweare one another not to excuse themselues to you by any meanes, that they might trie you the better, now if they shal see you say nothing in the [Page] worlde to them, what may come of it, when Ladies be­gin to trie their suters once, I hope your wisedomes can i [...]dge a little.

Foul.

O ho my little knaue let vs alone now yfaith, wood I might be Casheird, if I say any thing.

Rud.

Faith and I can forbeare my Tongue as well as another I hope.

Goos.

VVood I might be degraded if I speake a word, Ile tell them I care not for loosing my labour.

Foul.

Come knights shall we not reward the pages?

Rud.

Yes I prethee doe, Sir Gyles giue the boyes something.

Goos.

Neuer stirre Sir Cutt, if I haue euer a groat about me but one three pence.

Foul.

VVell knights ile lay out fors all, here my fine pages.

Will

No in deed ant please your worshippe.

Foul.

O pages refuse a gentlemans bountie.

Ia.

Crie you mercy Sir, thanke you sweete Cap­taine

Foul.

And what other newes is stirring my fine villia­cos.

Will

Marrie Sir they are inui [...]ed to a greate supper to night to your Lords house Captaine▪ the Lord Furnifall, and there will bee your great cosen Sir Gyles Goosecappe, the Lorde Tales, and your vnckle Sir Cutt. Rudesby, Sir Cutbert Kingcob.

Foul.

The Lord Tales, what countriman is hee?

Ia.

A kentish Lord Sir, his auncestors came forth off Canterburie.

Foul.

Out of Canterburie.

Will

I indeed Sir the best Ta [...]s in England are your Canterburie tales, I assure ye.

Rud.

the boy tels thee true Captaine.

Ia.

Hee writes his name Sir, Tales, and hee being the tenth sonne his father had; his father Christ­ [...]d him Decem Tales, and so his whole name is the [Page] Lord Decem Tal [...]s.

Goos.

A my mortallitie the boy knowes more then I doe of our house.

Rud.

But is the Ladie Furnif [...] (Captaine) still of the same drinking humor she was wont to be.

Foul.

Still of the same knight, and is neuer in any so­ciable vaine till she be typsie, for in her sobrietie shee is madd, and feares my good little old Lord out of all pro­portion.

King.

And therefore as I hear he will earnestly inuite guestes to his house, of purpose to make his wife dronk, and then dotes on her humor most prophanely.

Foul.

Tis very true knight; wee will suppe with them to night; and you shall see her; and now I thinke ont, ile tell you a thing knights, wherein perhaps you may exceedinly pleasure me.

Goos.

VVhats that good Captain.

Foul.

I am desirous to helpe my Lord to a good mer­rie Foole, & if I cood help him to a good merry one, he might d [...]e me very much credit I assure ye.

R [...]d.

Sblood thou speakest to vs as if wee cood serue thy turne.

Foul.

O Fraunce Sir Cutt: your Frenchman wood not haue taken me so, for a world, but because Fooles come into your companies many times to make you merrie

Rud.

As thou doost.

Goos.

Nay good Sir Cutt: you know fooles doe come into your companies.

Rud.

I and thou knowst it too, no man better.

Foul.

Beare with Choller Sir Gyles.

Will.

But wood you helpe your Lord to a good foole so faine Sir.

Foul.

I my good page exceeding faine.

Ia.

You mean a wench, do you not Sir, a foolish wēch?

Foul.

Nay I wood haue a man foole, for his Lord: page▪

W [...]ll

Does hi [...] Lord: loue a foole, so wel [...] pray.

Foul.

Assure thy selfe page, my Lord loues afoole as [Page] he loues himselfe.

Ia.

Of what degr [...]e wood you haue your Foole Sir, for you may haue of all maner o [...] d [...]s.

Foul.

Faith I wood haue him a good Emphaticall foole, one that wood make my Lorde laugh well, and I carde not,

Will

Laugh well (vm) then wee must know this Sir, is your Lorde Costiue of laughter, or laxatiue of laugh­ter?

Foul.

Nay he is good merrie little Lorde, and indeed something Laxatiue of Laughter.

Will.

Why then Sir the lesse witt will serue his Lord­ships turne, marrie if he had bin Costiue of laughter, hee must haue had two or three drams of witt the more in his foole, for we must [...]inister according to the quā ­tity of his L [...]rd: humor you know, and if he s [...]ood haue as much Witt in his foole being Laxatiue of laughter, as if hee were Costiue of Laughter, why he might laugh himsele into an Epilepsie, and fall down dead sodainly, as many haue done with the e [...]tremitie of that passion; and I know your Lord cares for nothing, but the health of a foole.

Foul.

Thart ith right my notable good page.

Ia.

Why, and for that health Sir we will w [...]rrant his Lordship, that if he should haue all Bacon de sanitate tu [...] ­da reade to him, it shood not please his Lordship so well as our foole shall.

Foul.

Remercy my more then English pages.

Goos.

A my word I haue not seene pages haue so much witt, [...]hat haue neuer bin in Fraunce Captain.

Foul.

Tis true indeed Sir Gyles, well then my almost french Elixers▪ will you helpe my Lord to a foole, so fitt for him as you say.

Will

As fitt, Ile warrāt you Captain, as if he were made for him, and hee shall come this night to supper, and foole where his Lord: sits at table.

Foul.

Excellent [...]rt, faile not now my sweet pages.

[Page]Ia.

Not for a world sir, we will goe both, and seeke him presently.

Foul.

Doe so my good wagges

Wil.

Saue you knights.

Ia.

Saue you Captaine.

Exeunt.
Foul.

Farewell my prettie knaues, come knights, shall we resolue to goe to this Supper?

Rud.

VVhat else.

Goos.

And let's prouide torches for our men to sit at dore with all captaine.

Foul.

That we will I warrant you sir Giles.

Rud.

Torches? why the Moone will shine man.

Goos.

The moone Sir Cut: I scorne the moone yfaith, Slydd sometimes a man shal not get her to shine & if he wood giue her a couple of Capons, and one of them must be white too, God forgiue me I cud neuer abide her since yesterday, she seru'de me such a trick tother night.

Rud.

VVhat trick sir Gyles?

Goos.

VVhy sir Cut: cause the daies be mortall and short now you knowe, and I loue daie light well; I thought it went a waie faster then it needed, and run after it into Finsburie-fieldes ith calme euening to see the winde mils goe? & euen as I was going ouer a ditch the moone by this light of purpose runnes me be­hind a cloud, and lets me fall into the ditch by hea­uen.

Rud.

That was ill done in her in deed sir Giles.

Goos.

Ill done sir Cut: Slydda man may beare, and beare, but and she haue noe more good manners, but to make euery black slouenly cloude a pearle in her eye I shall nere loue English moone againe, while I liue Ile besworne to ye.

Foul.

come knights to London horse, horse, horse.

Rud.

In what a case he is with the poore English moone, because the french moones (their torches) wil­be [Page] the lesse in fashion, and I warrant you the Captaine will remember it too, tho hee say no thing, hee se [...]onds his resolute chaseso and followes him, Ile lay my life you shall see them the next cold night, shut the moon [...]shine out of their chambers, and make it lie without doores all night. I discredit my witt with their companies now I thinke on't, plague a god on them; Ile fall a beating on them presently.

Exit.
Enter Lorde Momford and Clarence. Clarence Horatio.
Cla.
Sing good Horatio, while I sigh and write.
According to my master Platos minde
The Soule is musick, and doth therefore ioy
In accents musicall, which he that hates
VVith points of discorde is togeather tyed
And barkes at Reason, Consonant in sence.
Diuine Eugenia, beares the [...]ular forme
Of musicke and of Reason, and presents
The Soule exempt from flesh in flesh inflam'd,
Who must not loue hir then, that loues his soule?
To her I write, my friend, the star [...]e of friends
VVil needs haue my strange lines greet her strange eies
And for his fake ile powre my poore Soule forth
In floods of Inke; but did not his kind hand
Barre me with violent grace, I wood consume.
In the white flames of her impassionate Loue
E [...]e my harsh lipps shood vent the odorous blaze.
For I am despera [...]e of all worldly Ioyes
And there was neuer man so harsh to men,
VVhen I am fullest of digested life
I seeme a liuelesse Embrion to all
Each day rackt vp in nightlike Funerall.
Sing good Horatio, whilst I sigh and write.
Canto.

The Letter.

Suffer him to loue that suffers not louing, my loue is without passion and therefore free from alteration.

Prose is too harsh, and verse is poetrie
VVhy shood I write then? merrit clad in Inke
Is but a mourner, and as good as naked
I will not write my friend shall speake for me
Sing one staue more my good Horatio.
Canto.
I must remember I knowe whom I loue,
Adame of learning, and of life exemt
From all the Idle fancies of her sex,
And this that to an other dame wood seeme
Perplex [...] and foulded in a rudelesse vaile
Wilbe more cleere then ballads to her eye
Ile write, if but to satisfie my friend.
Your third stauce sweet Horatio and no more.
Canto.
How vainely doe I offer my strange loue?
I marrie, and bid states, and entertaine
Ladies with tales and iests, and Lords with newes
And keepe a house to feast Acteons hounds
That eate their maister, and let ydell guests
Drawe me from serious search of things diuine
To bid them sit, and welcome, and take care
To sooth their pal ats with choyce kytchin-stuff
As all must doe that marrie and keepe house
And then looke on the left sid of my yoake
Or on the right perhaps and see my wife
Drawe in a quite repugnant course from me
Busied to starch her french purles, and her puffs
When I am in my Anima refiexa quid sit faelicitas quae origo rerum?
And make the [...]e beings that are knowne to be
The onely serious obiects of true men
Seeme shadowes, with substanti al [...] stir she keepes
About her shadowes, which if husbands loue
[Page]They must belieue, and thus my other selfe
Brings me another bodie to dispose
That haue alreadie much too much of one,
And must not looke for any Soule of her
To helpe two rule to bodies.
Mom.
Fie for shame.
I neuer heard of such an antedame.
Doe women bring no helpe of soule to men?
VVhy friend they either are mens soules themselues
Or the most wittie Imitatrix [...]s of them
Or prettiest sweet apes of humaine Soules,
That euer Nature fram'd; as I will proue.
For first they be Substantiae lucidae
And p [...]rer then mens bodies like their soules,
VVhich mens harsh haires both of their brest & chinne
Occasiond by their grose and [...]uder heate
Plainely demonstrates: Then like soules they doe,
Mouere corpora, for no power on earth
Moues a mans bodie, as a woman does!
Then doe they Dare formas corpori
Or adde faire formes to men, as their soules doe:
For but for women, who wood care for formes?
I vowe I neuer wood washe face, nor hands
Nor care how ragg'd, or flouenlie I went
VVer't not for women, who of all mens pompes
Are the true finall causes: Then they make
Men in their Seedes imortall like their Soules
That els wood perish in a spanne of time.
Oh they be Soulelike-Creatures, and my Neece
The Soule of twentie rare Soules stild in one.
Cla.

That, that it is my Lord, that makes me loue.

Mom.
Oh are ye come Sir, welcome to my Neece
As I may say at midnight gentle friend
What haue you wrott I pray?
Cla.

Strange stuffe my Lord. He reads [...] comments.

Mom.
Indeed the way to belieue is to loue
And the right way to loue is to belieue,
[Page]This I will carry now with pen and In [...]ke
For her to vse in answere, see, sweet friend
She shall not stay to call, but while the steele
Of her affection is made softe and hott,
Ile strike and take occasion by the browe.
Blest is the wooing thats not long a dooing.
Exi [...].
Cla.
Had euer man so true, and noble friend?
Or wood men thinke this sharpe worlds freezing Aire
To all true honour and iudiciall loue
VVood suffer such a florishing pyne in both
To ouerlooke the boxe-trees of this time?
VVhen the learnd mind hath by impulsion wrought
Her eyes cl [...]re fire into a knowing flame.
No elementall smoke can darken it
Nor Northen cold [...]es nyppe her Daphnean flower,
O sacred friendshippe thanks to thy kind power
That being retir'd from all the faithles worlde
Appearst to me in my vnworldly friend,
And for thine owne sake let his noble mind
By mouing presedent to all his kind
(Like iust Deucalion) of earths stonie bones
Repaire the world with humane bloud and flesh
And dying vertue with new life refresh.
Exit.

ACTVS QVARTVS.

Enter Tales, Kingcob, E [...]genia, Hipp [...]lita, Pene­lope, Winnifred.
King.

Tis time to leaue your Chests Ladies tis too studious an exercise after dinner.

Tal.

Why is it cal'd Chests?

Hip.

Because they leane vppon their Chests that play at it.

Tal

I wood haue it cald the strife of wittes, for tis [...] game so witti [...], that with strife for maisterie, wee hunt it eagerly.

[Page]E [...]g

Specially where the wit of the G [...]caps are in cha [...] my Lord.

Tal.

I am a Goosecappe by the mothers side madam, at least my mother was a Goosecappe.

Fen.

And you were her white sonne, I warrant my Lord.

Tal.

I was the youngest Ladie, and therefore must be her white sonne ye know, the youngest of tenne I was.

Hip.

And the wisest of Fifteene.

Tal.

And sweet Ladie will ye cast a kind eye now vpon my Cosin, Sir Gyles Goosecappe.

Pen.

Pardon my Lord I haue neuer a spare eye to cast away I assure ye.

Tal.

I wonder you shood Countit cast away Ladie vppon him, doe you remember those fewe of his good partes I rehearst to you.

Pen.

Verie perfectly my Lord, amongst which one of them was, that he is the best Sempster of any woman in England, pray lets see some of his worke?

Hip.

Sweet Lord lets see him sowe a little.

Tal.

You shall a mine honour Ladie.

Eug.

Hees a goodly greate knight indeed; and a little needle in his hand will become him prettelie.

King.

From the Spanish pike to the Spanish needle, he shall play with any knight [...]n England Ladie.

Eug.

But not [...] c [...]erso, from the Spanish needle to the Spanish pike.

King.

I thinke he be too wise for that indeed madam, for he has 20. miles length in land lies togeather, and hee wood bee loath to bring it all to the length of [...] pike.

Hip.

But no man commends my blount Seruant Sir Cutt: Rudeshy methinks.

King.

Hee is a kind gentleman Ladie though hee bee blunt, and is of this humor, the more you pre­sume vppon him without Ceremonie, the mor [...] [Page] he lo [...] you, if he knowe you thinke him kinde once and will say nothing but still vse him, you may melt him into any kindenesse you will; he is right like a wo­man, and had rather, you shood bluntlie take the greatest [...]our you can of him, then shamefastly intreat it.

Eug

He saies wel to you Hippolita.

Hip

I madam, but they [...], he will beat one in Iest, and byte in kindenesse, and teare ones ruffes in Cour [...]ippe.

King.

Some that he makes sport withall perhappes, but none that he respects [...]assureye.

Hip.

And wha'ts his [...] C [...]beard?

King.

Some two thousand a yeare Ladie.

Hip.

I pray doe not tell him that I ask't, for I stand [...]ot vpon liuing.

King

O Good Ladie who can liue without liuing?

Enter Momford.
Mom

Still heere Lordings? good companions yfaith, I see you come not for vittles.

Tal.

Vittles, my Lord, I hope we haue vittles at home.

Mom.

I but sweet Lord, there is a principle in the Poli [...]itians phisicke, [...]at not your meat vpon other mens trenchers, & beware of surfits of your owne coste manie good companions cannot abide to eate meate at home ye know. And how [...] my noble Neece now, and her faire Ladie Feeres?

Eug.

VVhat winde blowes you hether troe?

Mom.

Harke you madam, the sweete gale of one Clarences breath, with this his paper [...]ayle blowes me hether.

E [...]g.

Aye me stil, in that humor? beshrowe my hart it I take anie Papers from him.

Mom.

Kinde bosome doe thou take it then.

[Page]Eug.

Nay then neuer trust me.

Mom.

Let it [...]all then, or cast it awa [...]e you were best, that euerie bodie may discouer your loue suits, doe; theres sombodie neare if you note it, and how haue you spent the time since dinner nobles?

King.

At chests my Lords,

Mom.

Read it neece.

E [...]g.

Heere beare it backe I pray.

Mom.

I beare you on my backe to heare you; and how play the Ladies sir Cuthbert, what men doe they play best withall, with knights or rookes?

Tal.

With knights my Lord.

Mom.

T'is pitty their boord is no broader, and that some men caled guls are not added to their game

King.

Why my Lo it needs not, they make the knights guls.

Mom

Thats pretty sir Cuthbert; you haue begon I know Neece, forth I commaund you.

Eug.

O yare a sweete vnckle.

Mom.

I haue brought her a little Gre [...]ke, to helpe me out withal, and shees so coy of her learning for sooth she makes it strange: Lords, and Ladies, I inuite you al to supper to night, and you shal not denie me.

Ad.

VVe will attend your Lordshippe.

Tal.

Come Ladies let's into the gallerie a little.

exeunt
Mom.

And now what saies mine owne deare neece yfaith?

E [...]g.

VVhat shood she saie to the backfide of a pa­per.

Mom.

Come, come, I knowe you haue byn a'the bel­lie side.

Eug.

Now was there euer Lord so prodigall, of his owne honor'd blood, and d [...]nity?

Mom

A [...]ay with these same horse faire alligations, will you answere the l [...]r?

Eug.

Gods my life you go [...] like a cuning spokes man, [Page] man, answere vnckle? what doe ye thinke me desperate of a husband

Mom.

Not so neece, but carelesse of your poore vn­kle.

Eug.

I will not write that's certaine.

Mom.

VVhat wil you haue my friend and I pe [...]ish, doe you thirst our bloods?

Eug.

O yare in a mightie danger noe doubt on't.

Mom.

If you haue our bloods beware our ghostes I can tell ye, come will ye write?

Eug.

I will not write yfaith.

Mom.

yfaith dame, then I must be your secretarie I see, heres the letter, come, doe you dictate and Ile write.

Eug.

If you write no otherwise then I dictate, it will scarce prou [...] a kinde answere I be­leeue.

Mom.

But you will be aduis'de I trust. Secretaries are of counsaile with their countesses, thus it begins. Suffer him to loue, that suffers not louing, what answere you to that?

Eug.

He loues extreamely that suffers not in loue.

Mom.

He answeres you for that presentlie, his loue is without passion, and therefore free from alteration, for Pa [...] you know is in Alterationem lab [...] he loues you in his soule he tels you, wherein there is no passion, saie dame what answere you.

Eug.

Nay if I answere anie thing.

Mom.

VVhy? veri [...] well, ile answere for you.

Eug.

You answere? shall I set my hand to your an­swere?

Mom.

I by my faith shall ye.

Eug.

By my faith, but you shal answere as I wood haue you then.

Mom.

Alwaies put in with aduice of your secretarie, neece, come, what answere you?

[Page]Eug.

Since you needes will haue my Answere, Ile Answere [...] to the first, and last part of his letter.

Mom.

Doe so Neece, and leaue the midst for him­selfe a gods name, what is your answeare?

Eug.

I cannot but suffer you to loue, if you do loue.

Mom.

Why v [...]ry good, there it is, and will requit your loue; say you so? He writes and she dic [...]ates.

Eug.

Beshrowe my lipps then my Lord.

Mom.

Beshrowe my fingers but you shall; what, you may promise to requite his loue, and yet not promise him marriage I hope; wel, and will requite your loue.

Eug.

Nay good my Lord hold your hand, for ile bee sworne, ile not set my hand [...]oo't.

Mom.

VVell hold of your hand good madam till it shood come on, Ile be readie for it anon, I warrant ye [...] now forth; my Loue is without passion, and therefore free from alteration, what answere you to that madam?

Eug.

Euen this my Lorde, your Loue being mentall, needes no bodely Requitall.

Mom.

I am Content with that, and here it is; but in hart.

Eug.

VVhat but in hart?

Mom.

Hold of your hand yet I say, I doe embrace and repaie it,

Eug.

You may write vnckle, but if you get my hand to it,

Mom.

Alas Neece this is nothing, ist any thing to a bodely marriage, to say you loue a mā in Soule if your harts agree and your bodies meet not? simple marriarge rites, now let vs foorth: hee is in the way to felicitie, and desires your hand.

Eug.

My ha [...]d shall alwaies signe the way to felicitie.

Mom.

Very good, may not any woman say this now. Conclud now sweet Neece.

Eug.

And so God prosper your Iourney.

Mom.

Charitably concluded, though farre short of that [...]oue I wood haue showen to any friend of yours [Page] Neece I sweare to you, your hand now, andlet this lit­tle stay his appetite.

Eug.

Read what you haue writ my Lord.

Mom.

What needs that madam, you remember it I am sure.

Eug.

Well if it want sence in the Composition, let my secretarie be blam'd for't, theirs my hand.

Mom.

Thanks gentle Neece, now ile reade it.

Eug.

VVhy now, more then before I pray?

Mom.

That you shall see straite, I cannot but suffer you to loue if you doe loue and wil requite your loue.

Eug.

Remember that requitall was of your own put­ning it, but it shal be after my fashion I warrant ye.

Mom.

Interrupt me no more, your loue being men­toll needs no bodely requital [...], but in hart I embrace & repay it; my hand shall alwaies signe the way to felicitie, and my selfe knit with you in the bandes of marriage e­uer walke with you, in it, and so God prosper our iour­ney:

Eugenia.
Eug.

Gods me life, tis not thus I hope.

Mom.

By my life but it is Neece.

Eug.

By my life but tis none of my deed then.

Mom.

Doe you vse to set your hand to that which is not your deed, your hand is at it Neece, and if there be any law in England, you shall performe it too:

Eug.
VVh, ythis is plaine dishonoured deceit.
Does all your truest kindnes end in lawe?
Mom.
Haue patience Neece, for what so ere I say
Onely the lawes of faith, and thy free loue
Shall ioyne my friend and thee, or naught at al,
By my friends loue, and by this kisse it shall.
Eug.

VVhy, thus did false Accontius snare Cydippe.

Mom.
Indeed deere loue his wile was something like
And then tis no vnheard-of [...]recherie
That was enacted in a goddes Eye,
Acconti [...]s wort [...]ie loue feard not Diana
[Page]Before whome he contriu'de this sweete deceite
Eug.

VVel there you haue my hand, but ile besworne I neuer did thing so against my will.

Mom
T'will proue the better madam, doubt it not▪
And to allay the billows of your blood,
Rais'de with my motion bold and opposite
Deere neece suppe with me, and refresh your spirites:
I haue inuited your companions
VVith the two guests that dinde with you to daie,
And will send for the old Lord Furnifall
The Captaine, and his mates and (tho at night)
VVe will be merrie as the morning Larke.
Eug.

No, no my Lord, you will haue Clarence there.

Mom.
A las poore gentleman I must tell you now
Hees extreame sicke, and was so when he writt
Tho he did charge me not to tell you so;
And for the world he cannot come abroade.
Eug.

Is this the man that without passion loues

Mom.
I doe not tell you he is sicke with loue;
Or if he be tis wilfull passion.
VVhich he doth choose to suffer for your sake
And cood restraine his sufferance with a thought,
Vppon my life he will not trouble you;
And therefore worthie neece faile not to come.
Eug.

I will on that condition.

Mom.

Tis perform'd: for were my friend well and cood comfort me; I wood not now intreate your com­panie, but one of you I must haue, or I die, oh such a friend is worth a monarchie.

Exeunt.
Enter Lord Furnifall. Rudsbie. Goose­capp [...]. Fowlweather. Bullaker.
Fur.

Nay my gallants I will tell you more.

All.

Forth good my Lord.

Fur.
The euening came and then our waxen stars
Spa [...]kled about the heauenly court of Fraunce.
VVhen I then young and readiant as the sunne
[Page]G [...]ue luster to those lampes, and curling thus
My golden foretoppe▪ stept into the presence,
Where set with other princely dames I found
The Countesse of Lancalier and her neece
VVho as I told you cast so fix'd an eye
On my behauiours talking w [...]th the king:
All

True my good Lord.

Fur.
They rose when I came in, and all the lights
Burnd dim for shame, when I stood vp and shind.
Fou [...]

O most passionate description Sir Cutt:

Rud.

True of a candles end.

Goos.

The passingst description of a candle, that euer liu'd Sir Cutt:

Fur.
Yet aymd I not at them, nor seemd to note
VVhat grace they did me, but found courtly cause
To talke with an accomplisht gentleman
New come from Italie, in quest of newes▪
I spake Italian with him.
Rud.

What so young?

Fur.

O rarissime volte cad [...]no nel parlar nostro familiare.

Foul.

Slidd a cood speake it knight, at three yeare old.

Fur.
Nay gentle Captaine doe not set me forth
I loue it not, in truth I loue it not.
Foul.

Slight my Lo [...]d but truth is truth you know.

Goos.

I dare [...]nsure your Lordship, Truth is truth, & I haue heard in Fraunce, they speake French as well, as their mother tongue my Lord.

Fur.
VVhy tis their mother tonge my noble knight▪
But (as I tell you) I seem'd not to note
The Ladies notes of me, but held my talke,
with that Italionate Frenchman, and tooke time
(Still as our conference seru'd) to shew my Courtship
In the three quarter legge, and setled looke,
The quick kisse of the toppe of the forefinger
And other such exploytes of good Accost;
All which the Ladies tooke into their eyes
VVith such attention that their fauours swarm'de
[Page]About my bosome, in my hatt, mine eares,
In skarffes about my thighes, vpon mine armes
Thicke on my wrystes, and thicker on my hands,
And still the lesse I sought, the more I found.
All this I tell to this notorious end,
That you may vse your Courtship with lesse care
To your coy mistress [...]s; As when we strike
A goodly Sammon, with a little line
VVe doe not tugge to hale her vp by force
For then our line wood breake, and our hooke lost;
But let her carelesse play alongst the stre [...]me
As you had left her, and sheele drowne her [...]elfe.
Foul

A my life a most ri [...]h comparison.

Goos.

Neuer stirre, if it bee not a richer Caparison, then my Lorde my Cosine wore at tilt, for that was bro­dred with nothing but mooneshine ith the water, and this has Sāmons in't; by heauen a most edible Caparisō.

Ru.

Odious thou woodst say, for Cōparisōs are odious.

Foul.

So they are indeede sir Cu [...] al [...] but my▪ Lords.

Goos.

Bee Caparisons odious Sir Cutt: what like flow­ers?

Rud.

O asse they be odorous.

Goos.

A botts athat stincking worde odorous, I can neuer hitt on't,

Fur.

And how like you my Court-counsaile gallāts ha▪

Foul.

Out of all proportion excellent my Lord: & be­lee [...]e it for Emphaticall Courtship, your Lordship puts downe all the Lords of the Court.

Fur.

No good Captaine no.

Foul.

By Fraunce you doemy Lord for Emphaticall Courtship.

Fur.

For Emphaticall Courtship indeed I can doe somewhat.

Foul.

Then does your merrie entertainment become you so festifally, that you haue all the brauerie of a Saint Georges day about ye when you vse it.

Fur.

Nay thats too much in sadnes Captaine.

Goos.

O good my Lord, let him prayse you, what so ere [Page] it costs your Lordshippe.

Foul.

I assure your Lordshippe your merrie behaui­our does so festifally showe vpon you, that euery high holliday when Ladies wood bee most bewtifull; eue [...]y one wishes to God shee were turnd into such a little Lord as you, when y'are merrie.

Goos.

By this fire they doe my Lord, I haue heard am.

Fur.

Marrie God forbid knight they shood be turnd into me; I had rather be turnd into them amine honor.

Foul.

Then for your Lordships quippes, & quick iests, why Gesta Romanorum were nothing to them a my vertue

Fur.

Well, well, well, I will heare thee no more, I will heare thee no more, good Captaine, Tha'st an excellent witt, and thou shalt haue Crownes amine honour, and now knights and Captain, the foole you told me off, do you al know him?

Goos.

I know him best my Lord.

Fur.

Doe you Sir Gyles, to him then good knight, & be here with him, and here, and here, and here againe; I meane paint him vnto vs Sir Gyles, paint him liuely, liue­ly now, mygood knightly boy.

Goos.

Why my go [...]d L [...]rd? hee will nere be long from vs, because we are all mortall you know.

Fur.

Verie true,

Goos.

And as soone as euer wee goe to dinner, and supper togeather,

Rud.

Dinner and supper togeather, whens that troe?

Goos.

A will come you in amongst vs, with his Cloake buttond, loose vnder his chinne.

Rud.

Buttond loose my Lord?

Goos.

I me Lord buttond loose still, and both the flaps cast o [...]r before, both his shoulders afore him.

Rud.

Both shouldiers afore him?

Fur.

From before him hee meanes; forth good Sir Gyl [...]s.

Goos.

Like a potentate My Lord?

Rud.

Much like a [...]otentate indeed.

Goos.

For all the w [...]rld like a Potentate S. Cut: ye know.

[Page]Rud,

So Si [...].

Goos.

All his beard nothing but hai [...]e.

Cud.

Or something else.

Goos.

Or something else as you say.

Foul.

Excellent good.

Goos.

His Mellons, or his Apricocks, Orrenges al­waies in an vncleane hand kerchiffe very cleanely I warrant you my Lord.

Fur.

A good nea [...]e foole Sir Gyles of mine honour.

Goos.

Then hi [...] fine words that hee sets them in, con­catic [...]ll, a fine Annisseede wenche foole vppon ticket and so forth.

Fur.

Passing strange wordes belieue me,

Goos.

Knoth euery man at the table, though he neuer saw him before, by sight and then will he foole you so finely my Lorde, that hee will make your hart ake, till your eyes runne ouer.

Fur.

The best that euer I heard, gray mercy good knight for thy merrie description, Captaine, I giue thee twentie companies of commendations, neuer to bee casheird.

Enter Iacke and Will on the other side.
Am.

Saue your Lordship,

Fur.

My prettie cast of Merlins, what prophecies with your little maistershippes?

Ia.

Things that cannot come to passe my Lord, the worse our fortunes.

Foul.

Why whats the matter pages?

Rud.

[...]ow now my Ladies foysting hounds.

Goos.

M. Iack▪ M. Iacke; how do ye M. William, frolick?

Will

Not s [...] frolicke, as you left vs Sir Gyles.

Fur.

VVhy wags, what news bring you a Gods name.

Ia.

Heauie newes indeed my Lord, pray pardone vs.

Fur.

Heauie newes? not possible your little bodies cood bring am then, vnload those your heauie newes I beseech ye?

Will.

VVhy my Lord the foole we tooke for your Lord: is thought too wise for you, and we dare not presēt him,

[Page]Goos.

Slydd pages, youle not cheates of our foole wil ye?

Ia.

VVhy sir Giles, hees too dogged and bitter for you in truth, we shall bring you a foole to make you laugh, and he shall make all the world laugh at vs.

Will.

I indeed sir Giles, and he knowes you so wel too

Giles

Knowe me▪ slight he knowes me no more then the begge [...] knowes his dish.

[...]a.

Faith he begs you to be content sir Giles, for he wil not come.

Goos.

Begg me? slight I wood I had knowne that, to­ther daie, I thought I had met him in Paules, & he had byn anie body else but a piller, I wood haue runne him through by heauen, beg me?

Foul.

H [...] begges you to be content sir Giles, that is, he praies you▪

Goos.

O does he praise me, then I commend him.

Fur.

Let this vnsutable foole goe sir G [...]les, we will make shift without him.

Goos.

That we wil a my word my Lord, and haue him too for all this.

Wil.

Doe not you say so sir Giles, for to tel [...] you true that foole is dead.

Goos.

Dead? Slight that cannot be man, I knowe he wood ha writ to me ont had byn so.

Fur.

Quick or dead let him goe sir Giles.

Ia.

I my Lord, for we haue better newes for you to harken after.

Fur.

what are they my good Nou [...]tions?

Ia.

My Lord Momford intreates your Lorship and these knights and captaine to accompany the countesse Eugenia and the o [...]her two Ladies at his house at supper to night.

Wil.

All desiring your Lo: to pardon them, for not eating your meat to night.

Fur.

VVithall my hart wagges, and theirs amends; my harts, now set your courtshippe a'the last, a'the tain­ters, and pricke vp your sel [...]es for the Ladies.

[Page]Goos.

O braue s [...]r [...] come [...] prick vp the Ladies:

Fur.

A [...]d wil not the knights two noble kinsemē be there?

Ia.

Both will be their my Lord.

Fur.

VVhy theres the whole knot of vs then, and there shall wee kno [...]ke vppe the whole triplicitie of your nuptials.

Goos.

[...]e make my Lord my Cosin speake for me.

Foul.

And your Lordship will be for me I hope.

Fur.

VVith tooth and naile Captaine, A my Lord.

Rua.

Hang am Tytts ile pommell my selfe into am.

Ia.

Your L [...]: your Cosin S [...]r Gyles has promist the Ladies they shall see you sowe.

Goos.

Gods mee, wood I might neuer be mortall if I doe not carty my worke with me.

Fur.
Doe so Sir Gyl [...]s, and withall vse meanes
To taint their high blouds with the shafte of Loue,
Sometimes a fingers motion woundes their minds;
A iest, a Iesture, or a prettie laugh.
A voyce, a present, ah, things done ith nick
VVound deepe, and sure, and let flie your gold
And we shall nuptialls haue hold belly hold.
Goos.

O rare Sir Cutt: we shall eate nut-shells. hold belly hold

Exeunt.
Ia.

O pittifull knight, that koowes not nuptialls from nutshells.

Will.

And now Comme port [...] vous monsieur?

Bull

Porte bien vous remercy.

Ia.

VVe may see it indeed Sir, & you shall goe afore with vs.

Bul.

No good monsieurs.

Will:

Another Crashe in my Ladies Celler yfaith mon­sieur.

Bul.

Remercy de bon ceur m [...]nsieurs.

Exeunt.
[Page]Enter Clarence Momford.
Mom.
How now my friend does not the knowing beames
That through thy cōmon sence glaūce through thy eyes
To reade that letter, through thine eyes retire
And warme thy heart with a tryumphant fire?
Mom.
My Lord I feele a treble happines
Mix in o [...]e soule, which proues how eminent
Things endlesse are aboue things temporall,
That are in bodies needefully confin'de;
I cannot suffer their dementions pierst
VVhere my immortall part admits expansure
Euen to the comprehension of two more
Commixt substantially with her meere selfe.
Mom.

As how my strange, and riddle▪ speaking friend?

Cla.
As thus my Lord, I feele my owne minds ioy
As it is separate from all other powers,
And then the mixture of an other soule
Ioyn'de in direction to one end, like it,
And thirdly the contentment I enioy,
As we are ioynd that I shall worke that good
In such a noble spirit as your neece,
VVhich in my selfe I feele for absolute;
Each good minde dowbles his owne free content
VVhen in an others vse they giue it vent.
Mom.
Said like my friend, and that I may not wrong
Thy full perfections with an emptier grace,
Then that which showe presents to thy conceits,
In working thee a wi [...]e worse then she seemes;
[...]e tell thee plaine a secret which I knowe.
My neece doth vse to paint herselfe with white
VVhose cheekes are naturally mixt with redd
Either because she thinks pale-lookes moues most:
Or of an answereable nice affect
To other of her modest qualities;
Because she wood not with the outward blaze
Of tempting bewtie tangle wanton eies;
And so be troubled with their tromperies:
[Page]VVhich [...] as thou wilt. I make it known [...]
That thy free comment may examine it,
As willinger to tell truth of my nee [...]e,
Then in the least degree to wrong my friend.
Cla.
A ielous part of friendshippe you vnfold;
For was it euer seene that any dame
Wood chainge of choice a well mixt white and redd
For bloodles palenes, if she striu'd to moue?
Her painting then is to shunn motion,
But if she mended some defect with it
Breedes it more hate then other ornaments;
(Which to supplie bare nature) Ladies weare?
What an absurd thing is it to suppose;
(If Nature made vs either lame or sick,)
VVe wood not seeke for sound lymmes, or for health
By Art the Rector of confused Nature?
So in a face if Nature be made lamer
Then Art can make it, is it more offence
To helpe her want there then in other limmes?
Who can giue instance where dames faces lost
The priuiledge their other parts may boast.
Mom.
But our most Court receiued Poets saies
That painting is pure chastities abator.
Cla.
That was to make vp a poore rime to Nature.
And farre from any Iudgment it confered
For lightnes comes from harts, and not from lookes
And if inchastitie possesse the hart;
Not painting doth not race it, nor being cleare
Doth painting spot it,
Om [...]e bonum naturaliter pulchrum.
For outward fairenes beares the diuine forme,
And moues beholders to the Act of loue;
And that which moues to loue is to be wisht
And eche thing simplie to be wisht is good.
So I conclude mere painting of the face
A lawfull and a commendable grace▪
Mom.
VVhat paradox dost thou defend in this
[Page]And yet through thy cleare arguments I see
Thy speach is farr exempt from flatterie,
And how illiterate custome groslie erres?
Almost in all traditions she preferres.
Since then the doubt I put thee of my neece,
Checks not thy doubtlesse loue, forth my deare friend,
And to all force to those impressions,
That now haue caru'd her phantasie with loue,
I haue invited her to supper heere.
And told her thou art most extreameli [...] sick.
VVhich thou shalt counterfeit with all thy skill,
Cla:

VVhich is exceeding smale to counterfeit,

Mom.
Practise a little, loue will teach it thee,
And then shall doctor Versey the phisitian,
Come to thee while her selfe is in my house.
VVith whome as thou confer'st of thy disease,
Ile bring my neece with all the Lords and Ladies.
VVithin your hearing vnder fain'd pretext,
To shew the pictures that hang [...]eere thy chamber,
VVhere when thou hearst my voyce, know she is there.
And therefore speake that which may stir her thoughts,
And make her flie into thy opened armes.
Ladies whome true worth cannot moue to ruth
Trew louers must deceue to shew their truth
Exeunt.
Finis Actus Quarti.

ACTVS QVINTI

SCAeNA PRIMA.

Enter Momford, Furnifall, T [...]es, Kingcob, Rudesbi [...], Goosecap, Fou [...]weather, Eugenia, Hippolita, Penelope, Winnifred.
Mom.

VVhere is Sir Gyles Goosecappe here?

Goos.

Here my Lord.

Mom.

Come forward knight t'is you that the La­dies admire at working a mine honor.

[Page]Goos:

A little at once my Lorde for Idlenes sake.

Fur:

Sir Cut, I say, to her captaine.

P [...]nel:

Come good ser [...]ant let's see what you worke.

Goos:

VVhy looke you mistris▪ I am makeing a fine drie sea, full of fishe, playing in the bottome, & here ile let in the water so liuely, that you shall heare it rore.

Eug:

Not heare it Sir Giles.

Goos.

Yes in sooth madam with your eyes.

Tal:

I Ladie; for when a thing is done so exceede­ingly to the life, as my knight [...]e cosen does it, the eye oftentimes takes so strong a heede of it, that it cannot containe it alone, and therefore the eare seemes to take part with it.

Hip:

That's a verie good reason my Lord.

Mom.

VVhat a Iest it is, to heare how seriouslie he striues to make his foolish kinsmans answeres wise ones.

Pen:

VVhat shall this be seruant?

Goos:

This shall be a great whale mistris, at all his bignesse spouting huge hils of salt-water afore him, like a little▪ water squirt, but you shall not neede to feare him mistris, for he shalbe si [...]ke and gould▪ he shall doe you noe harme, and he be nere so liuely.

Pen.

Thanke you good seruant.

Tal:

Doe not thinke Ladie, but he had need tell you this a forehand for a mine honor, he wrought me the monster Caucasus so liuely, that at the first sight I started at it.

Mom.

The monster Caucasus my Lord? Cauca [...]s is a mountaine; Cacus you meane.

Tal:

Cacus indeede my Lorde, crie you mer­cie.

Goos:

Heere ile take out your eye, and you wil mistris.

Pen:

No by my faith Seruant t'is better in

[Page]Goos.

VVhy Ladie, Ile but take it out in iest, in carnest.

Pen.

No, something else there, good seruant.

Goos.

VVhy then here shall be a Camell, and he shall haue hornes, and he shall looke (for al the world) like a maide without a husband.

Hip.

O bitter sir Giles.

Tal.

Nay he has a drie wit Ladie I can tell ye.

Pen.

He bobd me there indeede my Lord.

Fur.

Marry him sweet Lady, to answere his bitter bob.

King.

So she maie answere him with hornes indeed.

Eug.

See what a pretie worke he weares in his boote▪hose.

Hip.

Did you worke them your selfe sir Gyles, or buy them?

Goos.

I bought am for nothing madam in th'ex­ange

Eug.

Bought am for nothing.

Tal.

Indeed madam in th'exchange they so honor him for his worke that they will take nothing for anie thing he buies on am; but wheres the rich night-cappe you wrohgt cosen▪ if it had not byn too little for you, it was the best peece of worke, that euer I sawe.

Goos.

VVhy my Lord, t'was bigg enough, when I wrought it, for I wore pantables then you knowe.

Tal.

Indeede the warmer a man keepes his feete the lesse he necdes weare vppon his head.

Eug.

You speake for your kinsman the best, that euer I heard my Lord.

Goos.

But I beleeue madam, my Lord my cosen has not told you all my good parts.

Tal:

I told him so I warrant you cosen.

Hip:

VVhat doe you thinke he left out Sir Giles?

Goos:

Marrie madam I can take tobacco now, and I haue bought glow-wormes to kindle it withall, better [Page] then all the burning glasses ith world.

Eug.

Glowe-wormes sir Giles will they make it burne?

Goos.

O od madam I feed am with nothing but fire, a purpose, Ile besworne they eat me siue faggots a­weeke in charcoale.

Tal:

Nay he ha [...] the strangest deuices Ladies that euer you heard I warrant ye.

Fur:

That's a strange deuice in deed my Lord.

Hip:

But your sowing sir Gyles is a more gentlewo­man-like qualitie I assure you.

Pen:

O farr away, for now seruant, you nee de neuer marrie, you are both husband, and wife your selfe.

Goos:

Nay indeede mistris I wood faine marrie for all that, and ile tell you my reason, if you will.

Pen:

Let's heare it good seruant.

Goos:

VVhy madam we haue a great match at foot-ball towards, married men against batchellers, & the married men be al my friends, so I wood faine mar­rie to take the married mens parts in truth.

Hip:

The best reason for marriage that euer I heard sir Gyles.

Goos:

I pray will you keepe my worke a little mistris; I must needes straine a little courtsie in truth.

Exit Sir Gyles.
Hip:

Gods my life I thought he was a little to blame.

Rud:

Come, come, you heare not me dame.

Fur:

VVell said sir Cut, to her now we shall heare fresh courting.

Hip:

A las sir Cut, you are not worth the [...], euery bodie saies you cannot loue, how soeuer you talke on't.

Rud:

Not loue dame? slydd what argument woodst haue of my loue tro? lett me looke as redde as scar­let a fore I see thee, and when thou comst in sight if the sunne of thy bewtie, doe not white me like a sheppards hollandl am a Iewe to my Creator.

[Page]Hip.

O excellent.

Rud.

Let mee burst like a Tode, if a frowne of thy browe has not turnd the verie heart in my bellie, and made mee readie to bee hangd by the heeles for a fort­night to bri [...]g it to the right againe.

Hip.

You shood haue hangd longer Sir Cut: tis not right yet,

Rud.

Zonnes, bid me cut off the best lymme of my bo­die for thy loue, and ile lai't in thy hand to proue it, doost thinke I am no Christian, haue I not a Soule to saue?

Hip.

Yes tis to saue yet I warrant it, and wilbe while tis a soule if yo [...] vse this.

Fur.

Excellent Courtship of all hands, only my Cap­taines Courtshippe, is not heard yet, good madam giue him fauour to court you with his voyce.

Eug.

What shood he Court me with all else my Lord?

Mom.

VVhy, I hope madam there be other things to Court Ladies withall besides voyces.

Fur.

I meane with an audible sweete song madam.

Eug.

VVith all my heart my Lorde, if I shall bee so much in debted to him.

Foul.

Nay I will be indebted to your eares Ladie for hearing me sound musicke.

Fur.

VVell done Captaine, proue as it wil now.

Enter Messenger.
Me.

My Lord Doctor Versey the Physitian is come to see master Clarence.

Mom.

Light and attend him to him presently.

Fur.

To master Clarence? what is your friend sicke?

Mom.

Exceeding sicke.

Ta.

I am exceeding sorrie.

King.
Neuer was sorrow worthier bestowed
Then for the ill state of so good a man.
Pen.

Alas poore gentleman; good my Lord lets see him.

Mom.
Thankes gentle Ladie, but my friend is loth
[Page]To trouble Ladies since he cannot quitt them.
With any thing he hath that they respect.
Hip.
Respect my Lord; I wood hold such a man
In more respect then any Emperor
For he cood make me Empresse of my selfe
And in mine owne rule comprehend the world.
Mom.
How now young dame? what so dainly inspird
This speech hath siluer haires, and reuerence asks
And soner shall haue dutie done of me
Then any pompe in temperall Emperie.
Hip.

Good madam get my Lord to let vs greet him.

Eug.
Alas we shall but wrong and trouble him.
His Contemplations greet him with most welcome.
Fur.
I neuer knew a man of so sweet a temper
So soft and humble, of so high a Spirit.
Mom.
Alas my noble Lord he is not rich,
Nor titles hath, nor in his tender cheekes
The standing lake of Impudence corrupts,
Hath nought in all the world, nor nought wood haue,
To grace him in the prostituted light.
But if a man wood consort with a Soule
VVhere all mans Sea of gall and bitternes
Is quite evaporate with [...] holy flames,
And in whose powers a Doue-like Innocence
Fosters her owne deserts, and life and death,
Runnes hand in hand before them: All the Skies
Cleere and transparent to her piercing eyes,
Then wood my friend be something, but till then
A Cipher, nothing, or the worst of men.
Foul.

Sweet Lord lets goe visit him.

Enter Gooscappe.
Goos.

Pray good my Lord, whats that you talke on?

Mom.

Are you come from your necessarie busines Sir Gyles? we talke of the visiting of my sicke friend Clarence.

Goos.

O good my Lord lets visit him, cause I knowe his brother.

Hip.

Know his brother, nay then Co [...]nt doe [Page] not deni [...] him.

Goos.

Pray my Lord whether was eldest, he or his elder brother?

Mom.

O! the younger brother eldest, while you liue Sir Gyles.

Goos.

I say so still my Lord, but I am so borne down with truth as neuer any knightith world was I thinke.

Ta.

A man wood thinke he speakes simplie now; but indeed it is in the will of the parents, to make which child they will youngest, or eldest: For often we see the younger [...], wherein he is eldest.

Eug.

Your Logicall wit my Lorde is able to make a­ny thing good.

Mom.
VVell come sweet Lords, & Ladies, let vs spend
The time till supper-time with some such sights
As my poo [...]e house is furnished withall
Pictures and Iewels; of which implements
It may be I haue [...]ome wil please you much.
Goos.

Sweet Lord lets see them.

Exeunt.
Enter Clarence and Doctor.
Do.

I thinke your disease Sir, be rather of the mind then the bodie.

Cla.

Be there diseases of the mind Doctor?

Do.

No question Sir, euen as there be of the bodie.

Cla.

And cures for them too?

Do.

And cures for them too, but not by Phisick.

Cla.

You will haue their deseases, greifes? wil ye not?

Do.

Yes, oftentimes.

Cla.

And doe not greifes euer rise out of passions?

Do.

Euermore.

Cla.

And doe not passions proceed from corporall distempers?

Do.

Not the passions of the mind, for the mind ma­ny times is sicke, when the bodie is healthfull.

Cla.

But is not the mindes-sicknes of power to make the bodie sicke?

Do.

In time, certaine.

[Page]Cla.

And the bodies ill affections able to infect the mind?

Do.

No question.

Cla.

Then if there bee such a naturall commerce of Powers betwixt them, that the ill estate of the one of­fends the other, why shood not the medicines for one cure the other?

Do.

Yet it will not you see. Heimihi quod nullus a [...]or est medicabilis herbis.

Cla.

Nay then Doctor, since you cannot make any reasonable Connexion of these two contrarieties the minde and the bodie, making both subiect to passion, wherein you confound the substances of both, I must tell you there is no disease of the mind but one, and [...]hat is Ignorance.

Do.

VVhy what is loue? is not that a disease of the mind?

Cla.

Nothing so for it springs naturally out of the bloode, nor are wee subiect to any disease, or sorrowe, whose causes or effects simply and natiuely concerne the bodie, that the mind by any meanes partaketh, nor are there any passions in the Soule, for where there are no affections, there are no passions: And Affectus your master Gallen refers part [...]irascents, For illic est anima senti­ens vbi sunt affectus: Therefore the Rationall Soule can­not be there also.

Do.

But you know we vse to say, my mind giues mee this or that, euen in those addictions that concerne the bodie.

Cla.

VVe vse to say so indeed, and from that vse comes the abuse of all knowledge, and her practize, for when the obiect in question onely concerns the state of the bodie? why shood the soule bee sorry or glad for it? if she willingly mixe her selfe, then shee is a foole, if of necessitie and against her will, A slaue, And so, far from that wisdome, and freedome that the Empresse of Reason, and an eternall Substance shood comprehend.

Do.

Diuinely spoken Sir, but verie Paradoxicallie.

[Page]Ent [...]r Momford, Tales, Kingcob, Furnif; Rudes. Goos: Foul: Eugenia, Penelope, Hipposita, Winnifrid.
Mom.
Who's there?
I, my Lord.
Mom.

Bring hether the key of the gallerie, me thought I heard the Doctor and my friend.

Fur.

I did so sure.

Mom.
Peace then a while my Lord
We will be bold to evesdroppe; For I know
My friend is as respectiue in his chamber
And by himselfe, of any thing he does
As in a Criticke Synods curious eyes
Following therein Pyth [...]goras golden rule.
Maximè omnium [...]psum reuerere.
Cla.

Knowe you the Countesse Eugonia Sir?

Do.

Exceeding wel Sir, she's a good learned scholler.

Cla.

Then I perceiue you know her well indeed.

Do.

Me thinks you two shood vse much conference.

Cla.
Alas sir, we doe verie seldome meet,
For her esta [...]e, and mine are so vnequall,
And then her knowledge passeth mine so farre
That I hold much to sacred a respect,
Of hir high vertues to let mine attend them.
Do.
Pardon me Sir, this humblenes cannot flowe
Out of your udgment but from passion.
Cla.
Indeed I doe accoun [...] that passion,
The verie high perfection of my mind,
That is excited by her excellence,
And therefore willingly, and gladly feele it.
For what was spoken of the most chast Queene
Of riche Pasiaca may be said of her.
Ante [...]t sortem moribus virtutibus Annos,
Sex [...] animo, morum No [...]litate Genus.
Do.

A most excellent Dictick.

Mom.
Come Lords away, lets not presume too much
Of a good nature, not for all I haue
VVood I haue him take knowledge of the wrong
[Page]I ru [...]ely off [...]r him: come then ile shewe
A few [...]are Iewels to your honour'd eyes,
And then pre [...]t you with a common supper.
Goos.

[...]wells my Lord, why is not this candlestick [...] one of yo [...]r iew [...] pray?

Mom.

Yes marrre is it Sir Gyles if you will.

Goos:

[...]is a most si [...]e candlesticke in truth, it wants nothing but the languages.

Pen.

The languages seruant, why the languages?

Goos.

VVhy mistris; there was a la [...]tin cand [...]estick h [...]re afore, and that had the languages I am sure.

Ta.

I thought he had a reason for it Ladie.

Pen.

I and a reason of the Sunne too my Lord, for his father wood haue bin ashamed on't.

Exeunt.
Do.
VVell master Clarence I perc [...]iue your mind
Hath so incorparate it selfe wi [...]h flesh
And therein ratified that flesh to spirit,
That you haue need of no Phisitians helpe.
But good Sir euen for holy vertues health
And grace of perfect knowledge, doe not make
Those ground-workes of eternitie, you lay
Meanes to your ruine, and short being here:
For the too strict and rationall Course you hold
VVill eate your bodie vp; and then the world,
Or that small point of it, where virtue liues
VVill suffer Diminution: It is now
Brought almost to a simple vnitie,
VVhich is, (as you well know) Simplicior puncto.
And if that point faile once, why, then alas
The vnitie must onely be suppos'd,
Let it not faile then, most men else haue sold it;
Tho you neglect your selfe, vphould it,
So with my reuerend loue I leaue you Sir.
Exit.
Cla.
Thanks worthie Doctour, I do amply quite you
I proppe poore vertue, that am propt my selfe,
And onely by one friend in all the world,
For vertues onely sake I vse this wile,
[Page]VVhich otherwise I wood despise and scorne,
The world should s [...]ke and all the pompe she hugs
Close in her hart, in her ambitious gripe
Ere I sustaine it, if this slendrest ioynt
Mou'd with the worth that worldlings loue so well
Had power to saue it from the throate of hell
He drawes the Curtaines and sits within them.
Enter Eugenia, Penelope, Hippolita.
Eug.
Come on faire Ladies I must make you both
Familiar witnesses of the most strange part
And full of impudence that ere I plaide.
Hip.

VVhats that good madam?

Eug.
I that haue bene so more then maiden-nice
To my deare Lord and vnkle not to yeeld
By his importunate suite to his friends loue
In looke, or almost thought; will of my selfe
Farre past his expectation or his hope
In action, and in person greete his friend,
And comfort the poore gentlemans sick state.
`Pen.

Is this a part of so much Impudence?

Eug.

No but I feare me it will stretch to more

Hip.

Mary madam the more the merrier.

Eug.

Marrie Madam? what shood I marrie him?

Hip.
You take the word me thinkes as tho you would,
And if there be a thought of such kind heate
In your cold bosome, wood to God my breath
Might blowe it to the flame of your kind hart.
Eug.
Gods pretious Ladie, knowe ye what you say,
Respect you what I am, and what he is,
VVhat the whole world wood say, & what great Lords
I haue refused and might as yet embrace,
And speake you like a friend, to wish me him?
Hip.
Madam I cast all this, and know your choyse
Can cast it quite out of the christall dores
Of your Iudiciall eyes: I am but young
And be it said without all pride I take,
[Page]To be a maid, I am one, and indeed
Yet in my mothers wombe to all the wiles
Weend in the loomes of greatnes, and of state:
And yet euen by that little I haue learn'd
Out of continuall conference with you,
I haue cride haruest home of thus much iudgment
In my greene sowing time, that I cood place
The constant sweetnes of good Clarence mind,
Fild with his inward wealth and noblenes;
(Looke madam here,) when others outward trashe
Shood be contented to come vnder here.
Pen.

And so say I vppon my maiden head.

Eug.
Tis well said Ladies, thus we differ then,
I to the truth-wise, you to worldly men:
And now sweet dames obserue an excellent iest
(At least in my poore iesting.) Th' Etl my vnckle
Will misse me straite, and I know his close drift
Is to make me, and his friend Clarence meete
By some deuice or other he hath plotted.
Now when he seekes vs round about his house
And cannot find vs, for we may be sure
He will not seeke me in his sicke [...]iends chamber,
(I haue at al times made his loue so strange,)
He straight will thinke, I went away displeas'd,
Or hartelie careles of his hartiest sute.
And then I know there is no greife on earth
Will touch his hart so much, which I will suffer
To quite his late good pleasure wrought on me,
For ile be sworne in motion and progresse
Of his friends suite, I neuer in my life
VVrastled so much with passion or was mou'd
To take his firme loue in such [...]elouse part.
Hip.
This is most excellent madam, and will proue
A neecelike, and a noble frends Reuenge.
Eug.
Bould in a good cau [...]e, then lets greet his friend,
VVhere is this sickly gentleman at his booke?
Now in good troth I wood theis bookes were burnd
[Page]That rapp men from their [...]app before their time,
How does my vnckles friend, no other name
I need giue him, to whome I giue my selfe,
Cla.
O madam let me rise that I may kneele,
And pay some dutie to your soueraigne grace.
Hip:
Good Clarence doe not wo [...]ke your selfe disease
My Ladie comes to ease and comfort you.
P [...]n:

And we are handmaides to her to that end.

Cla:
Ladies my hart will breake, if it be held
VVithin the verge of this presumtuous chaire.
Eug.
VVhy, Clarence is your iudgement bent to show
A common louers passion? let the world,
That liue [...] without a hart, and is but showe,
stand on her emtie, and impoisoned forme,
I knowe thy kindenesse, and haue seene thy hart,
Clest in my vnckles free, and friendly lippes
And I am onely now to speake and act,
The rit'es due to thy loue: oh I cood weepe▪
A bitter showe of teares for thy sick state,
I cood giue passion all her blackest rites.
And make a thousand vowes to thy deserts,
But these are common, knowledge is the bond,
The seale and crowne of our vnited mindes▪
And that is ra [...]e, and constant, and for that,
To my late written hand I giue thee this,
See heauen, the soule thou gau'st is in this hand.
This is the knot of our eternitie,
VVhich fortune, death, nor hell, shal euer loose.
Enter Bullaker. lack▪ Wil.
Ia:

VVhat an vnmannerly trick is this of thy coun­tesse, to giue the noble count her vnckle the slippe thus?

Wil

Vnmannerlie, you villayne? O that I were worthie to weare a [...]agger to an [...]e purpose for thy sake?

Bul:

VVhy young gentlemen, vtter your anger with your fists.

[Page]Wil.

That cannot be man, for all fists are shut you know, and vtter nothing, and besides I doe not thinke my quarrell iust for my Ladies [...] in this cause, for I protest she does most [...] miscarrie her selfe.

Ia:

Protest you sawsie Iack you, I shood doe my countrie and court-shippe good seruice to beate thy co [...]lts teeth out of thy head, for suffering such a reue­rend worde to passe their guarde; why, the oldest courtier in the world man, can doe noe more then protest,

Bul.

Indeede page if you were in Fraunce, you wood bee broken vpon a wheele for it, there is not the b [...]st Dukes sonne in Fraunce dares saie I protest, till h [...]e bee one and thirtie yeere old at least, for the inheritance of that worde is not to bee possest before.

Wil,

VVell, I am sorie for my presumtion then, but more sorie for my Ladies, marie most sorie [...]or thee good Lorde Momforde, that will make [...] most of a [...]l [...]orie for our selues, if wee doe not fynde her out.

la:

VVhy alas what shood wee doe? all the starres of out heauen see, wee seeke her as fast as w [...]e can, if shee bee crept into a rush wee will seeke her out or burne her.

Enter Momfor [...].
Mom.
Villaines where are your Ladies, seeke them
Out; hence, home ye monsters, nad stil keep you there
Exeuut▪ Page [...].
VVhere le [...]itie keepes, in her in constant Spheare,
A wa [...]e you pr [...]ious villaines, what a plague,
Of varried tortures is a womans hart?
How like a peacockes taile with different lightes,
They differ from them selues; the very ayre
Alters the aspen humors of their bloods.
[Page]Now excellent good, now superexcellent badd.
Some excellent good, some? but one of all:
VVood anie ignorant babie serue her friend,
Such an vnciuill part? Sblood what is learning?
An artificiall cobwebbe to catch flies,
And nourish Spiders, cood she cut my throate,
VV with her departure I had byn her calfe,
And made a dish at supper for my guests
Of her kinde charge, I am beholding to her,
Puffe, is there not a feather in this [...]yre
A man may challenge for her? what? a feather?
So easie to be seene; so apt to trace;
In the weake flight of her vnconstant wings?
A mote man at the most, that with the sunne,
Is onely seene, yet with his radiant eye,
we cannot single so from other motes,
To say this mote is shee, passion of death,
She wrongs me past a death, come▪ come my friend,
Is mine, she not her owne, and theres an end.
Eug.

Come vnckle shall we goe to supper now?

Mom.

Zounes to supper? what a do [...]r is this?

Eug.

A las what ailes my vnckle, Ladies see.

Hip.

Is not your Lordshippe well?

Pen:

Good speake my Lord.

Mom.

A sweete plague on you all, ye wittie rogues haue you no pittie in your villanous iests, but runne a man quite from his fifteene witts?

Hip.

VVill not your Lord-shippe see your friend, and neece?

[...].
VVood I might sinke if I shame not to see her
Tush t'was a passion of pure Ielosie,
Ile now make her now a mends with Adoration.
Goddes of learning and of constancie,
Of friendshippe and euerie other vertue.
Eug.
Come, come, you haue abus'de me now I know
And now you plaister me with flatteries.
Pen.

My Lord the con [...]ract is knit fast betwixt them

[Page]Mom.
Now all heauens quire of Angels sing Amen,
And blesse the [...]s true borne [...] with their blisse,
And Neece tho you haue [...] me in this,
Ile vnckle you yet in an other thing,
And quite deceiue your expectation.
For where you think you haue contracted harts
VVith a poore gentleman, he is sole heire
To all my [...]arledome, which to you and yours
I freely, and for euer here bequeath;
Call forth the Lords, sweet Ladies let them see
This sodaine and most welcome Noueltie;
But [...]rie you mercy Neece, perhaps your modestie
VVill not haue them pertake this sodaine matche.
Eug.
O vnckle thinke you so, I hope I made
My choyce with too much Iudgment to take shame
Of any forme I shall performe it with.
Mom.

Said like my Neece, and worthy of my friend.

Enter Furnifal, Tal: King: Goos: Rud: Foul: Ia: Will, Bullaker.
Mom:
My Lords, take witnes of an absolute wonder,
A marriage made for vertue, onely vertue,
My friend, and my deere neece are man and wife.
Fur.
A wonder of mine honour, and withall
A worthie presedent for al the world;
Heauen blesse you for it Ladie, and your choyce.
Ambo

Thankes my good Lord.

Ta.
An Accident that will make pollicie blushe,
And all the Complements of wealth and state,
In the succesfull and vnnumbred Race
That shall flowe from it, fild with fame and grace.
Kin.

So may it speed deere Countsse, worthy Clarence.

Ambo

Thankes good Sir Cu [...]berd.

Fur.
Captaine be not dismaid, Ile marrie thee,
For while we liue, thou shalt [...]y consort be.
Foul.
By Fraunce my Lord, I am not grieu'd a whit,
Since Clarence hath her; he hath bin in Fraunce,
And therefore merits her if she were better.
[Page]Mom.
Thē knights ile knit your happie nuptial knots,
I know the Ladies minds better then you;
Tho my rare Neece hath chose for vertue onlie,
Yet some more wise then some, they choose for both
Vertue, and wealth.
Eug.
Nay [...] then I plead
This goes with my choyce, Some more wise then some,
For onely vertues choise is truest wisedome.
Mom.
Take wealth, & vertue both amongst you then,
They loue ye knights exreamely, and Sir [...]:
I giue the ch a st Hippolita to you▪
Sir Gyles this Ladie;
Pen.
Nay stay there my Lord,
I haue not yet prou'd all his knightly parts
I heare he is an excellent Poet too.
Tal.
That I forgot sweet Ladie; good Sir Gyles▪
Haue you no sonnet of your penne about ye?
Goos.

Yes, that I haue I hope my Lord my Cosen.

Fur.

Why, this is passing fit.

Goos.

Ide be [...]oth to goe without paper about me against my mistris, hold my worke againe, a man knows not what neede he shall haue perhaps.

Mom.

VVell remembred a mine honour Sir Gyles:

Goos.

Pray read my Lorde, I made this sonnet of my mistris.

Rud.

Nay reade thy selfe man.

Goos.

No intruth Sir Cut: I cannot reade mine owne hande.

Mom.

VVell I will reade it.

Three things there be which thou shouldst only craue,
Thou Pomroy, or thou apple of mine eye;
Three things there be, which thou shouldst longe to haue,
And for which three, each modest dame wood [...],
Three things there be, that shood thine anger swage,
An English mastife, and a fine french page.
Rud.

Sblood [...], theres but two things, thou [...] thy selfe.

[Page]VVhy Sir Cutt: thats [...], the verse wood haue binne too long, and I had put in the third, S'light you are no Poet I perceiue.

Pe [...].

Tis excellent seruant.

Mom.
Keepe it Ladie then,
And take the onely knight of mortall men.
Goos.

Thanke you good my Lord as much as tho you had giuen me twentie shillings in truth, now I may take the married mens parts at footeball.

Mom.
All comforts crowne you all; & you Captaine
For merrie forme sake let the willowe crowne;
A wreath of willow bring vs hither straite.
Fur.
Not for a world shood that haue bin forgot
Captaine it is the fashion, take this crowne.
Foul.
VVith all my hart my Lord, and thanke ye too
I will thanke any man that giues me crownes.
Mom.
Now will we con [...]ecrate our readie supper
To honourd Hymen as his nuptiall rite,
In forme whereof first daunce faire Lords and Ladies
And after sing, so we will sing and daunce,
And to the skies our vertuous ioyes aduance.
The Measure.

Now to the song, and doe this garland grace.

Cant [...].
Willowe, willowe, willowe.▪
our captaine goes downe:
Willowe, willowe, willowe,
his vallor doth crowne.
The rest with Rosemarie we grac [...],
O Hyme [...] let thy lights
With richest rayes guild [...] face,
and feast harts with delights.
Willowe, willowe, willow,
we chaunt tothe skies:
And with blacke and yellows,
giue co [...]rtship the prize.
FINIS.

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