TIs now the sweetest time for sleepe, the night is scarce spent; Arrigo, what's a clocke?

Past foure.

About some waightie State plot.

And what thinkes your knighthood of it?

I doe thinke, to cure some strange corruptions in the common wealth.

Your grace is carefull.

Very prouident.

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I thinke your grace intendes to walke the pub­lique streetes disguised, to see the streetes disorders.

It is not so.

You secretly will crosse some other states, that doe conspire against you.

Y'are woundrous carefull for your subjects good.

You are a very louing Prince in deed.

Then you rise to see your wenches?

What Millaine beautie hath the power, to charme her Soueraignes eyes, and breake his sleepes?

My Lord, the day grow's cleere, the Court will rise.

We stay too long, is the the Vmbranoes head as wee commaunded, sent to the sadde Gondarino, our generall?

Tis sent.

But stay, where shines that light?

Tis in the chamber of Lazarello.

Lazarello? what is he?

A Courtier my Lord, and one that I wonder your grace knowes not: for he hath followed your Court, and your last predecessors, from place to place, any time this seauen yeare, as faithfully as your Spits and your Drip­ping-pans haue done, and almost as greasely.

O we knowe him as we haue heard: he keepes a kallender of all the famous dishes of meate, that haue bin in the Court, euer since our great Graundfathers time; and when he can thrust in at no Table, hee makes his meate of that.

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The very same my Lord.

We Princes do vse, to prefer many for nothing, and to take particular and free knowledge, almost in the nature of ac­quaintance of many; whome we do vse only for our plea­sures, and do giue largely to numberes; more out of polli­cy, to be thought liberall, and by that meanes to make the people striue to deserue our loue; then to reward any par­ticular desert of theirs, to whome we giue: and doo suffer our selues to heere Flatterers, more for recreation

I wonder they that know their states so well, should fancie such base slaues.

I knowe my Lord, I would not.

Why so I thought till I was Duke, I thought I should haue left me no more Flatterers, then there are now plaine-dealers; and yet for all this my resolution, I am most palpably flattered: the poore man may loath coue­tousnes & flattery; but Fortune will alter the minde whē the winde turnes: there may be well a little conflict, but it will driue the byllowes before it.

SCENA II.

Goe runne, search, pry in euery nooke and Angle of the kitchins, larders, and pasteries, know what meate's boyl'd, bak'd, rost, stew'd, fri'de, or sows'd, at this din­ner to be seru'd directly, or indirectly, to euery seuerall ta­ble in the Court, be gone.

I runne, but not so fast, as your mouth will doe vp­on the stroake of eleuen.

What an excellent thing did God bestow vpon man, when he did giue him a good stomacke? what vn­bounded graces there are powr'd vpon them, that haue the continuall command of the very best of these bles­sings? Tis an excellent thing to bee a Prince, hee is seru'd with such admirable varietie of fare; such innumerable choise of delicates, his tables are full fraught with most nourishing foode, & his cupbords heauie laden with rich wines; his Court is still filled with most pleasing varie­ties: In the Summer, his pallace is ful of greene geese; and in Winter, it swarmeth woodcockes,

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Here I am Maister.

Briefe boy, briefe, discourse the seruice of each se­uerall Table compendiously.

Heres a Bill of all Sir.

For the Captain of the Guards Table, three chynes of Beefe, and two jolls of Sturgeon.

A portly seruice, but grosse, grosse, proceed to the Dukes owne Table, deare boy to the Dukes owne Table.

For the Dukes owne Table, the head of an Vmbrana

Is't possible! can Heauen bee so propitious to the Duke?

Yes, Ile assure you Sir, 'tis possible, Heauen is so propitious to him.

'Tis very fresh and sweet sir, the fish was taken but this night, & the head as a rare noueltie appointed by spe­ciall cōmandement for the dukes own Table, this dinner.

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If poore vnworthy I may come to eat Of this most sacred dish, I here do vow (If that blind huswife Fortune will bestow But meanes on me) to keepe a sumptuous house, A board groning vnder the heauie burden of the beastes that cheweth the cudde, and the Fowle that cutteth the ayre: I shall not like the table of a countrey Iustice, be­sprinckled ouer with all manner of cheape Sallets, sliced Beefe, Giblets, and Pettitoes, to fill vp roome, nor should there stand any great, combersome, vncut vp pyes at the nether end fill'd with mosse and stones, partly to make a shew with, and partly to keepe the lower messe from ea­ting, nor shall my meat come in sneaking like the Cittie-seruice, one dish a quarter of an houre after one another gone, as if they had appointed to meet there, and had mi­stooke the houre, nor should it like the new Court seruice come in, in hast, as if it faine would be gone againe, all courses at once, like a hunting breakefast, but I would haue my seuerall courses, and my dishes well fil'd, my first course should bee brought in after the auntient manner, by a score of old bleere-ey'de Seruingmen, in long blewe coates, (marry they shall buy silke, facing, and buttons themselues) but that's by the way.

Maister the time call's on, will you be walking.

Follow boy, follow, my guts were halfe an houre since in the priuie kitchin.

SCENA TERTII.

Faith brother I must needs goe yonder.

And yfaith sister what will you do yonder.

I know the Lady Honoria will be glad to see mee.

Glad to see you, fayth the Lady Honoria cares for you as she doth for all other young Ladies, shee's glad to [Page] see you, and will shew you the priuie Garden, and tel you how many gownes the Duchesse had: Marry if you haue euer an old vncle, that would be a Lord, or euer a kins­man that hath done a murther, or committed a robberie, and will giue good store of money to procure his par­don, then the Lady Honoria will be glad to see you.

I, but they say one shall see fine fights at the Court.

Ile tell you what you shall see, you shall see ma­ny faces of mans making, for you shall find very fewe as God left them: and you shall see many legges too; a­mongst the rest you shall behould one payre, the feete of which, were in times past sockelesse, but are now through the change of time (that alters all thinges) very strangely become the legges of a Knight and a Courtier: another payre you shall see, that were heire apparant legges to a Glouer, these legges hope shortly to bee honourable; when they passe by they will bowe, and the mouth to these legges, will seeme to offer you some Courtship; it will sweare, but it will lye, heare it not.

Why, and are not these fine sights?

Sister, in seriousnesse you yet are young And faire, a faire young maid and apt.

Apt?

Exceeding apt, apt to be drawne to.

To what?

I would goe, if it were but only to shew you, that I could be there, and be mou'd with none of these trickes.

Your seruants are ready?

An houre since

Farewell Brother.

Once more, if you stay in the presence till candle­light, keep on the foreside oth' Curtaine; & do you heare, take heed of the old Bawd, in the cloth of Tissue-sleeues, and the knit Mittins. Farewell Sister.

Now am I idle, I would I had bin a Scholler, that I might a studied now: the punishment of meaner men is, they haue too much to doe; our onely miserie is, that without company we know not what to doe; I must take some of the common courses of our Nobilitie; which is thu [...]: if I can find no company that likes mee, plucke off my Hat­band, throw an old Cloake ouer my face, and as if I would not bee knowne, walke hastely through the streetes, till I be discouered; then there goes Counte such a one, sayes one; there goes Counte such a one, sayes another: Looke how fast he goes, sayes a third; there's some great matters in hand questionlesse, sayes a fourth; when all my busi­nesse is to haue them say so: this hath beene vsed; or if I can find any companie, Ile after dinner to the Stage, to see a Play; where, when I first enter, you shall haue a murmure in the house, euery one that does not knowe, cries, what Noble man is that; all the Gallants on the Stage rise, vayle to me, kisse their hand, offer mee their places: then I picke out some one, whom I please to grace among the rest, take his seate, vse it, throw my cloake ouer my face, and laugh at him: the poore gentle­man imagines himselfe most highly grac'd, thinkes all the [Page] Auditors esteeme him one of my bosome friendes, and in right speciall regard with me. But here comes a Gentle­man, that I hope will make me better sport, then eyther street and stage fooleries.

This man loues to eat good meate, alwayes prouided hee do not pay for it himselfe: he goes by the name of the Hun­garie Courtier; marry, because I thinke that name will not sufficiently distinguish him, for no doubt hee hath more fellowes there, his name is Lazarello, he is none of these same ordinary eaters, that will deuour three breakfasts, & as many dinners, without any preiudice to their beauers, drinkings or suppers; but he hath a more courtly kind of hunger, and doth hunt more after nouelty, then plenty, Ile ouer-heare him.

Sir.

Will the Count speake with me.

One of his Gentlemen is gone to enforme him of your comming Sir.

There is no way left for me to compasse this Fish head, but by being presently made knowne to the Duke.

That will be hard Sir.

Master, the Count is here.

Where? my Lord I do beseech you.

Y'are very welcome sir, I pray you stand vp, you shall dine with me.

I do beseech your Lordship by the loue I still haue borne to your honourable house.

Sir, what need all this? you shall dine with me, I pray rise.

Perhaps your Lordship takes me for one of these same fellowes, that do as it were respect victuals.

O sir, by no meanes.

Your Lordship ha's often promised, that when­soeuer I should affect greatnesse, your owne hand should helpe to raise me.

And so much still assure your selfe of.

And though I must confesse, I haue euer shun'de popularitie by the example of others, yet I do now feele my selfe a little ambitious, your Lordship is great, and though young, yet a priuie Counseller.

I pray you sir leape into the matter, what would you haue me doe for you?

I would entreat your Lordship to make mee knowne to the Duke.

When sir?

Suddenly my Lord, I would haue you present me vnto him this morning.

It shall be done, but for what vertues, would you haue him take notice of you?

Your Lordship shall know that presently. T'is pitty of this fellow, he is of good wit, & sufficient vn­derstāding, [Page] whē he is not trobled with this greedy worm.

Faith, you may intreat him to take notice of mee for any thing; for beeing an excellent Farrier, for playing well at Span-counter, or sticking kniues in walles, for be­ing impudent, or for nothing; why may not I bee a Fauo­rite on the suddaine, I see nothing against it.

Not so sir, I know you haue not the face to bee a fauorite on the suddaine.

Why thē you shall present me as a gētlemā wel qua­lified, or one extraordinary seen in diuers strāge misteries.

In what Sir? as howe?

Marrie as thus—

Yonders my olde Spirit, that hath haunted mee daily, euer since I was a priuie Counsellor, I must be rid of him, I pray you stay there, I am a litle buisie, I wil speak with you presently.

You shall bring mee in, and after a little other talke, taking me by the hand, you shall vtter these wordes to the Duke: May it please your grace, to take note of a gentleman, well read, deepely learned, and throughly grounded in the hidden knowledge of all Sallets and pothearbs whatsoeuer.

'Twill be rare, if you will walke before Sir, I will ouertake you instantly.

Your Lordships euer.

This fellow is a kind of Informer, one that liues in Alehouses, and Tauerns, and because hee perceiues some worthy men in this land, with much labour & great expence, to haue discouered things dangerously hanging ouer the State; hee thinks to discouer as much out of the talke of drunkards in Taphouses: hee brings me informa­tions, pick'd out of broken wordes, in mens common talke, which with his malitious misapplication, hee hopes will seeme dangerous, hee doeth besides bring mee the names of all the young Gentlemen in the Citie, that vse Ordinaries, or Tauerns, talking (to my thinking) only as the freedom of their youth teach thē, without any [Page] further ends; for dangerous and seditious spirits, he is be­sides an arrant whore-master, as any is in Millaine, of a lay man. I will not meddle with the Clergie, he is parcell Lawier, & in my conscience much of their religion, I must put vpon him some peece of seruice; come hither Sir, what haue you to do with me?

Little my Lord, I onely come to knowe how your Lordship would employ me.

Obserued you that gentleman, that parted from me but now.

I saw him now my Lord.

I was sending for your, I haue talked with this mā, and I doe find him dangerous.

Is your Lordship in earnest?

Harke you sir, there may perhaps be some within care-shot.

Sirrha will you venture your life, the Duke hath sent the fish head to my lord?

Sir if he haue not, kil me, do what you will with me.

How vncertaine is the state of all mortall things? I haue these Crosses from my Cradle, from my very Cra­dle, in so much that I doe begin to growe desperate: For­tune I do despise thee, do thy worst; yet when I do better gather my selfe together, I do find it is rather the part of a wise man, to preuent the stormes of Fortune by stirring, then to suffer them by standing still, to power themselues vpon his naked body. I will about it.

Who's within there?

Let this Gentleman out at the backe dore, forget not my instructions, if you find any thing dangerous; trouble not your selfe, to find out me, but carrie your informations to the Lord Lucio, he is a man graue and well experienced in these businesses.

Your Lordships Seruant.

Will it please your worship walke?

Sir I was comming, I will ouer-take you.

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I will attend you ouer against the Lord Gonderi­noes house.

You shall not attend there long.

My Lord:

Ha.

Here's one hath brought you a present.

From whom, from a woman? if it be from a wo­man, bid him carrie it backe, and tell her shee's a whore: what is it?

A Fish head my Lord.

What Fish head?

I did not aske that my lord.

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W [...]ence co [...]es it?

From the Court.

O t'is a Cods-head.

No my Lord, 'tis some strange head, it comes from the Duke.

Let it be carried to my Mercer, I doe owe him money for silkes, stop his mouth with that.

Was ther euer any man that hated his wife after death but I? and for her sake all women, women that were created onely for the preseruation of little dogges.

My Lord, the Counts sister beeing ouertaken in the streets, with a great haile-storme, is light at your gate, and desires Rome till the storme be ouerpast.

Is shee a woman?

I my Lord I thinke so.

I haue none for her then: bid her get her gone, tel her shee is not welcome.

My Lord, shee is now comming vp.

Shee shall not come vp, tell her any thing, tell her I haue but one great roome in my house, and I am now in it at the close stoole.

Shee's here my Lord.

O impudence of women, I can keepe dogs out of my house, or I can defend my house against theeues, but I cannot keep out women.

Now Madam, what hath your Ladiship to say to me?

My Lord, I was bold to craue the helpe of your house against the storme.

Your Ladiships boldnesse in comming, will bee impudence in staying, for you are most vnwelcome.

Oh my Lord!

Doe you laugh, by the hate I beare to you, tis true.

Y'are merry my Lord.

Let me laugh to death if I bee, or can bee whilst thou art here, or liuest, or any of thy sexe.

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I commend your Lordship.

Doe you commend me? why doe you commend me? I giue you no such cause: thou art a filthy impudent whore; a woman, a very woman.

Ha, ha, ha.

Begot when thy father was drunke.

Your Lordship hath a good wit.

How? what haue I good wit?

Come my Lord, I haue heard before of your Lordships merry vaine in jesting against our Sexe, which I beeing desirous to heare, made mee rather choose your Lordships house, then any other, but I know I am wel­come.

Let me not liue if you be: me thinkes it doth not become you, to come to my house, being a strāger to you. I haue no woman in my house, to entertaine you, nor to shew you your chamber; why should you come to me? I haue no Galleries, nor banquetting houses, nor bawdy pictures to shewe your Ladiship.

Beleeue me, this your Lordships plainnes makes me thinke my selfe more welcom, then if you had sworne by all the prettie Court oathes that are, I had beene wel­comer then your soule to your bodie.

Now shee's in talking, treason will get her out, I durst sooner vndertake to talke an Intelligencer out of the roome, and speake more then he durst heare, than talke a woman out of my company.

My Lord, the Duke beeing in the streets, and the storme continuing, is entred your gate, and now com­ming vp.

The Duke! now I know your arrant Madame; you haue plots and priuate meetings in hand: why do you choose my house, are you asham'd to goe too't in the olde coupling place, though it be lesse suspicious here; for no Christian will suspect a woman to be in my house, yet you may doe it cleanlier there, for there is a care had of those businesses; and wheresoeuer you remooue, your great [Page] maintainer and you shal haue your lodgings directly op­posite, it is but putting on your night-gowne, and your slippers; madame, you vnderstand me?

Before I would not vnderstand him, but now he speakes riddles to me indeed.

T'was a strange haile-storme.

T'was exceeding strange.

Good morrow to your grace.

Good morrow Gondarino.

Iustice great Prince.

Why should you begge for justice, I neuer did you wrong; whats the offendor?

A woman.

O I know your auncient quarrell against that sexe; but what hainous crime hath shee committed?

Shee hath gone abroad.

What? it cannot be.

Shee hath done it.

How? I neuer heard of any woman that did so before.

Hath shee so? which is the woman?

This, this.

How Arrigo? Lucio?

Is it not Oriana?

It is.

Sister to Count Valore?

The very same.

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Shee that I loue?

Shee that you loue.

I doe suspect.

So doe I.

Vpon my life 'tis so.

Because your grace might not suspect.

It falls out better then we could expect Sir, that we should finde the Duke and my Lord Gondarino toge­ther, both which you desire to be acquainted with.

T'was very happy: Boy, goe downe into the kitchin, & see if you can spie that same; I am now in some hope: I haue me thinkes a kind of feauer vpon me,

A certaine gloominesse within me, doubting as it were, betwixt two passions; there is no young maide, vpon her wedding night, when her husband sets first foot in the bedde, blushes, and lookes pale againe, oftner then I doe now. There is no Poet acquainted with more shakings & [Page] [...]akinges, towardes the latter end of this new play, when hee's in that case, that he standes peeping betwixt the cur­taines, so fearefully, that a bottle of Ale cannot be opened, but he thinkes some body hisses, then I am at this instant.

Are they in consultatiō, if they be, either my yong Duke hath gotten some bastard, and is perswading my knight yonder, to father the childe, and marrie the wench, or else some Cock-pit is to be built.

My Lord? what noble mann's that?

His name is Lucio, tis hee that was made a Lord at the request of some of his friendes for his wiues sake, he af­fects to bee a great States-man, and thinkes it consistes in night cappes, and iewels, and tooth-pikes?

And whats that other?

A Knight Sir, that pleaseth the Duke to fauour, & to raise to some extraordinarie fortunes, hee can make as good men as himselfe, euerie day in the weeke and doth—

For what was he raised.

Truely Sir, I am not able to say directlie, for what; but for wearing of red breeches as I take it, hees a braue man, hee will spend three Knighthoodes at a Supper without trumpets.

My Lord ile talke with him, for I haue a friend, that would gladlie receiue the humour.

If he haue the itch of Knighthood vppon him, let him repaire to that Phisition, hee'le cure him: but I will giue you a note; is your friend fat or leane?

Something fat.

T'will be the worse for him.

I hope thats not material.

Verie much, for there is an imposte set vppon Knighthoodes, and your friend shall pay a Noble in the pound.

Doth she know your Grace doth loue her.

She hath neuer heard it.

Then thus my Lord;

Whats hee that walkes alone so sadly with his handes behind him?

The Lord of the house, he that you desire to be acquainted with, hee doth hate women for the same cause that I loue them.

Whats that?

For that which Apes want: you perceiue me Sir?

And is hee sad, can hee be sad, that hath so rich a gemme vnder his roofe, as that which I do follow? What yong Ladies that?

Which: Haue I mine eye sight perfect, Tis my sister, did I say the Duke had a bastard? what should she make here with him, and his Councell; shee hath no pa­pers in her hand, to petition to them, shee hath neuer a husband in prison, whose release she might sue for: Thats a fine tricke for a wench; to gette her husband clapt vp, that she may more freely, & with lesse suspition, visite the priuate studies of men in authority. Now I do discouer their consultatiō, yon fellow is a Pandar without al salua­tion; But let mee not condemne her too rashly, without waying the matter; shees a young Lady, Shee went foorth earelie this morning with a waiting woman, and a Page, or so: This is no garden house, in my conscience shee went forth with no dishonest entent; for she did not pretend going to any sermon in the further end of the Cittie: Neither went she to see anie odde olde Gentle­woman, that mournes for the death of her husband, or the losse of her friend, and must haue young Ladies come to comfort her: Those are the damnable Bawdes, Twas no set meeting certainelie: for there was no wafer-wo­man [Page] with her, these three daies, on my knowledge: Ile talke with her: Good mor [...]ow my Lord.

Y'are welcome Sir: her's her brother come now to doe a kind office for his sister, is it not strange?

I am glad to meet you here Sister.

I thanke you good Brother: and if you doubt of of the cause of my comming, I can Satisfie you.

No faith, I dare trust thee, I doe suspect thou art honest, for it is so rare a thing to bee honest amongst you, that some one man in an age, may perhaps suspect some two women to be honest, but neuer beleeue it verily.

Let your returne be suddaine.

Vnsuspected by them.

It shall, so shal I best perceiue thei [...] Loue, if there be any, Farewel.

His name?

Lazarello.

I heard of him this morning, which is he?

Lazarello, pluck vp thy Spirits, thy fort [...]nes are now raising, the Duke cals for thee, and thou shalt be ac­quainted with him.

He's going away, and I must of necessitie stay here, vpon busines.

Tis all one, thou shalt know him first.

Stay a little, if hee should offer to take mee away with him, and by that meanes I should loose that I seeke for; but if he should, I wil not goe with him.

Lazarello the Duke stayes, wilt thou loose this op­portunitie?

How must I speake to him?

I hope I shall doe it.

Come: May it please your grace to take note of a gentleman, well seene, deepely read, & throughly groū ­ded in the hidden knowledge of all sallets and pothearbs whatsoeuer.

I shall desire to know him more inwardly.

I kisse the Oxe-hide of your Graces foot.

Very well: will your grace question him a little?

How old are you?

I vnderstand you Sir.

How like an ignorant Poet he talkes.

You are eight and twenty yeare old? what time of the day doe you hold it to be?

'Tis almost dinner time?

Your grace doth apprehend me very rightly.

Your grace shal find him in your further cōferēce Graue, wise, courtly, & scholler like, vnderstādingly read In the necessities of the life of man. He knowes that man is mortall by his birth; He knowes that men must dye, and therefore liue; [Page]He knowes that man must liue, and therefore eate, And if it shall please your grace, to accompany your selfe with him, I doubt not, but that hee will at the least, make good my commendations.

Good my Lord stand betwixt mee and my ouer­throw, you know I am ti'd here, and may not depart, my gracious Lord, so waightie are the busines of mine owne, which at this time doe call vpon mee, that I will rather chuse to die, then to neglect them.

Nay you shal wel perceiue, besides the vertues that I haue alreadie inform'd you off, he hath a stomack, which will stoope to no Prince aliue.

Sir at your best leisure, I shall thi [...]st to s [...]e you.

And I shall hunger for it.

Till then farewell all.

Long life attend your Grace.

I doe not tast this sport, Arrigo, Lucio.

We doe attend.

His grace is gone, and hath left his Hellen with me, I am no Pander for him, neither can I bee wonne with the hope of gaine, or the itching desire of tasting my Lordes lecherie to him, to keepe her at (my house) or bring her in disguise, to his bed Chamber.

My Lord; the fish head is gone againe.

Whither.

I know whither my Lord.

Keepe it from Lazarello: Sister shall I conferre with you in priuate, to know the cause of the Dukes comming hither, I know he makes you acquainted with his busines of State.

He satisfie you brother, for I see you are iealous of mee.

Now there shall bee some course taken for her conuei [...]ce.

Lazarello, thou art happie, thy carriage hath begot loue, and that loue hath brought forth fruites, thou art here in the company of a man honourable, that will helpe thee to tast of the bounties of the Sea, & when thou hast so done, thou shalt retire thy selfe vnto the Court, & there tast of the delicates of the earth, and be great in the eyes of thy Soueraigne: now no more shalt thou need to scramble for thy meate, nor remoue thy stomack with the Court; but thy credit shall commaund thy hearts desire, and all nouilties shall be sent as presents vnto thee.

Good Sister, when you see your own time, will you returne home.

Yes brother, and not before.

I will grow populer in this State, & ouerthrow the fortunes of a number, that liue by extortion.

Lazarello, bestirre thy selfe nimbly and sodainly, and here me with patience. to heare.

Let me not fall from my selfe; speake I am bound

So art thou to reuenge, when thou shalt heare the fish head is gone, and we know not whither.

I hate to leaue my friend in his extremities.

Farwell my Lord, I was entreated to inuite your Lordship to a Ladies vpsitting.

O my eares, why Madame, will not you follow your brother, you are waited for by great mē, heele bring you to him.

I'me very wel my Lord, you do mistake me, if you thinke I affect greater company then your selfe.

What madnesse possesseth thee, that thou canst imagine me a fit man to entertaine Ladies; I tell thee, I do vse to teare their haire, to kick them, and to twindge their noses, if they be not carefull in auoiding me.

Your Lordship may descant vpon your owne be­hauior as please you, but I protest, so sweet and courtly it appeares in my eye, that I meane not to leaue you yet.

I shall grow rough.

A rough carriage is best in a man, Ile dine with you my Lord.

Why I will starue thee, thou shalt haue nothing.

I haue heard of your Lordships nothing, Ile put that to the venture.

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Well, thou shalt haue meat, Ile send it to thee.

Ile keepe no state my Lord, neither doe I mourne, Ile dine with you.

Performe this, helpe me to this great heire by lear­ning, and you shall want no blacke cloakes, taffaties, silke­grogerams, sattins & veluets are mine, they shalbe yours; performe what you haue promised, & you shall make me a louer of Sciences, I will studie the learned languages, & keepe my shop-booke in Latine.

Trouble me not now, I will not fayle you within this houre at your shop.

Let Art haue her course.

'Tis well spoken, Madona.

Hast thou brought me any customers.

No.

What the deuill do'st thou in blacke.

As all solemne professors of setled courses, doe co­uer my knauery with it: will you marry a citizen, reaso­nably rich, and vnreasonably foolish, silkes in his shoppe, money in his purse, and no wit in his head?

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Out vpon him, I could haue bin otherwise then so, there was a Knight swore hee would haue had mee, if I would haue lent him but forty shillings to haue redeem'd his cloake, to go to Church in.

Then your wastcoate wayter shall haue him, cal herin?

Francessina?

Anone?

And get you after her, I will worke vpon my citi­zen whilst he is warme, I must nor suffer him to consult with his neighbours, the openest fooles are hardly couse­ned, if they once grow jealous.

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Now Venus be my speed, inspire me with all the seuerall subtill temptations, that thou hast already giuen, or hast in store hereafter to bestowe vpon our sexe: grant that I may apply that Phisicke that is most apt to worke vpon him: whether he will soonest bee moou'd with wan­tonnesse, singing, dauncing, or beeing passionate, with scorne, or with sad and serious lookes, cunningly mingled with sighes, with smiling, lisping, kissing the hand, and making short cursies; or with whatsoeuer other nimble power, he may bee caught: doe thou infuse into mee, and when I haue him, I will sacrifice him vp to thee.

My Lord, I am a woman, and such a one—

That I hate truely, thou hadst better bin a deuill. women.

Why my vnpatient Lord?

Deuils were once good, there they excel'd you

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Deare Lord: y'are too wild.

Shat haue a Doctor too, thou shat, 'bout sixe and twentie, tis a pleasing age; or I can helpe thee to a handsome vsher: or if thou lack'ft a page, ile giue thee one, preethe keepe house, and leaue mee.

Then ile hate you.

Let me with your faire patience, sit beside you?

I cannot thinke your better knowledge can vse a woman so vnciuilly.

I wod thou wouldst sit still, and say nothing: what mad-man let thee loose to do more mischief then a dousen whirlwinds, keepe thy hands: in thy muffe, and warme the idle wormes in thy fingers ends will yee bee doing still, will no intreating serue yee, no lawfull warning, I must remoue and leaue your Ladiship; nay neuer hope to stay me, for I will runne, from that Smooth, Smiling, witching, Cousening, Tempting, Damning face of thine, as farre as I can find any land, where I will put my selfe into a daily course of Curses for thee, and all thy Familie.

I had rather sing at dores for bread, then sing to this fellow, but for hate: if this should be told in the Court, that I begin to woe Lords, what a troop of the vntrust no­bilitie should I haue at my lodging tomorrow morning.

Haue you done your wassayle, tis a handsome drowsie dittie ile assure yee, now I had as leeue here a Carte cry, when her taile is cut off, as heare these lamen­tations, these lowsie loue-layes, these beway lements, you thinke you haue caught me Ladie, you thinke I melt now, like a dish of May butter, and runne, all into brine, and passion, yes, yes, I am taken, looke how I crosse my armes, looke pale, and dwyndle, and woo'd cry, but for spoyling my face, we must part, nay we'l auoyd all Cere­mony, no kissing Ladie, I desire to know your Ladiship no more; death of my soule the Duke.

God keepe your Lordship.

From thee and all thy sex.

ACTVS III SCENA II.

All the dayes good, attend your Lordship.

Forward.

Faith my Lord to come quickly to the point, the woman you saw with me is a whore; an arrant whore.

Was shee not Count Valores Sister?

Yes, that Count Valores Sister in naught.

Thou darst not say so.

Not, if it be distasting to your Lordship, but giue mee freedome, & I dare maintaine, she ha's imbrac'd this body, and growne to it as close, as the hot youthfull vine to the elme.

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Twice haue I seen her with thee twice my thoghts were prompted by mine eye, to hold thy strictnesse false and imposterous: is this your mewing vp, your strict re­tirement, your bitternesse and gaule against that sex: haue I not heard thee say, thou wouldst sooner meet the Basilisks dead doing eye, then meet a woman for an object: looke it be true you tell mee, or by our countries Saint your head goes off: if thou proue a whore, no womans face shal euer moue me more.

So, so, 'tis as it should be, are women growne so mankind? Must they be wooing, I haue a plot shal blow her vp, shee flyes, shee mounts, Ile teach her Ladyship to dare my furie, I will be knowne and fear'd, and more truly hated of women then an Eunuch.

Shees here againe, good gaule be patient, for I must dis­semble.

Now my cold frostie Lord, my woman Hater, you that haue sworne an euerlasting hate to all our sex: by my troth good Lord, and as I am yet a maid, my thoght 'twas excellent sport to heare your honour sweare out an Al­phabet, chafe nobly like a Generall, kicke like a resty jade and make ill faces: Did your good Honor thinke I was in loue? where did I first begin to take that heat? from those two radiant eyes, that piercing sight? oh they were louely, if the balls stood right; and there's a legge made out of a dainty staffe, Where the Gods be thanked, there is calfe ynough.

A lasse, ha's it beene prick't at the heart, is the stomacke come downe, will it rayle no more at women, and call 'em Diuels, shee Cattes, and Gob­blins.

Hee that shall marry thee, had better spend the poore remainder of his dayes in a Dung-barge, for two pence a weeke, and find himselfe: [Page] Downe againe Spleene, I preethee downe againe, shall I find fauour Ladie? shall at length my true vnfained pene­tence get pardon for my harsh vnseasoned follies? I am no more an Athiest, no, I doe acknowledge, that dread powrefull Deitie, and his all quickning heats, burne in my brest: oh be not as I was, hard, vnrelenting; but as I am, be partner of my Fires.

Sure we shall haue store of Larkes, the Skies will not hold vp long, I should haue looked as soone for frost in the dogge dayes, or an other Inundation, as hop'd this strange conuersion aboue myracle: let mee looke vpon your Lordship; is your name Gondarino, are you Millaines Generall, that great Bug-beare bloodie-bones, at whose very name all women, from the Ladie to the Landresse, shake like a cold fit.

Good patience helpe me, this Feuer will inrage my bloud againe: Maddam I am that man; I am euen hee, that once did owe vnreconciled hate to you, and all that beare the name of woman: I am the man, that wrong'd your honour to the Duke, I am hee that said you were vn­chast, and prostetute; yet I am he, that dare deny all this.

Your big Nobilitie is very merrie.

Lord, thou hast wrong'd my innocence, but thy confession hath gain'd thee faith.

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A day or two.

Mine own seruants shall attend me.

Your Ladiships commaund is good.

Looke you be true.

EIse let me lose the hopes my soule aspires to: I will be a scourge to all females in my life, and after my death, the name of Gondarino shall be terrible to the mighty women of the earth; they shall shake at my name, and at the sound of it, their knees shall knocke together; and they shall runne into Nunneries, for they and I are beyond all hope irreconcilable: for if I could endure an eare with a hole in't, or a pleated locke, or a bare-headed Coachman, that sits like a signe, where great Ladies are to bee sold within; agreement betwixt vs, were not to bee despaired of; if I could bee but brought to endure to see women, I would haue them come all once a weeke and kisse mee, where Witches doe the diuell in token of homage: I must not liue here, I wil to the Court, and there pursue my plot; when it hath tooke, women shall stand in awe, but of my looke.

ACTVS III. SCEN. III.

There take your standing, be close and vigilāt, here will I set my selfe, and let him looke to his language, a shal know the Duke ha's more eares in Court than two.

Ile quote him to a tittle, let him speake wisely, and plainely, and as hidden as a can, or I shall crush him, a shall not scape charracters, though a speake Babel, I shall crush him: we haue a Fortune by this seruice hanging ouer vs, that within this yeare or two, I hope we shall be called to be examiners, weare politicke gownes garded with cop­per lace, making great faces full of feare and office, our labours may deserue this.

I hope it shall: why ha's not many men bin raised from this worming trade, first to gaine good accesse to great men, then to haue commissions out for search, and [Page] lastly, to be worthily nam'd at a great Arraignment: yes, & why not we? they that indeauour well deserue their Fee. Close, close, a comes: marke well, and all goes well.

Then am I greater then the Duke.

There, there's a notable peece of treason, greater then the Duke, marke that.

But how, or where, or when this shall bee com­pas'd, is yet out of my reach.

I am so truly miserable, that might I be now knockt ath' head, with all my heart I would forgiue a dog killer.

Yet doe I see through this confusednes some lit­tle comfort.

The plot my Lord, as er'e you cam of a womā discouer.

Plots, dangerous plots, I will deserue by this most liberally.

'Tis from my head againe.

O that it would stand mee, that I might fight, or haue some venture for it, that I might be turn'd loose, to try my Fortune amongst the whole frie in a Colledge, or an Inne of Court, or scrāble with the prisoners in the dun­geon; nay were it set downe in the owter court,

I haue it, tis now infus'd, be comforted.

Can there be that little hope yet left in nature? shal I once more erect vp Trophies? shall I enioy the sight of my deere Saint, and blesse my pallate with the best of creatures, ah good my Lord, by whom I breath again, shal I receiue this beeing?

Sir, I haue found by certain calculation, and set­led reuolution of the starres, the Fish is sent by the Lord Gondarino to his Mercer, now tis a growing hope to know where tis.

O tis farre aboue the good of women, the Pathicke cannot yield more pleasing tittylation.

But how to compasse it, search, east about, and [Page] bang your braines, Lazarello, thou art to dull and heauy to deserue a blessing.

My Lord, I will not be idle; now Lazarello, thinke, thinke, thinke.

My Lord, what doe you thinke, if I should shaue my selfe, Put on midwiues apparell, come in with a hand-kercher, And beg a peece for a great bellied womā, or a sick child?

Good, very good.

Or corrupt the waiting prentise to betray the re­uersion.

Ther's another point in's plot, corrupt with mo­ney to betray: sure 'tis some Fort a meanes: marke, haue a care.

And 'twere the bare vineger 'tis eaten with, it would in some sort satisfie nature: but might I once at­taine the dish it selfe, though I cut out my meanes through swords and fire, through poison, through any thing that may make good my hopes.

Thankes to the gods, and our officiousnes, the plots discouered, fire, steele, and poison, burne the Palace, kill the Duke, and poison his priuie Counsell.

To the mercers, let me see: how if before we can attain the means, to make vp our acquaintāce, the fish be eaten?

If it be eaten, here a stāds, that is the most deiected, most vnfortunate, miserable, accursed, forsaken slaue, this Prouince yeeldes: I will not sure outliue it, no I will die brauely, and like a Roman; and after death, amidst the E­lizian shades, Ile meete my loue againe.

I will die brauely, like a Roman: haue a care, mark that: when he hath done all, he will kill himselfe.

Will no thing ease your appetite but this?

No could the sea throw vp his vastnesse, [Page] And offer free his best inhabitants: 'twere not so much as a bare temptation to me.

If you could be drawne to affect Beef, Venison, or Fowle, two [...]ld be farre the better.

Sir you shall worke me as you please.

Let it be suddenly, I doe beseech your Lordship, 'tis now vpon the point of dinner time.

I am all yours.

Come let vs conferre, Inprimis a saith like a blasphemous villaine, he is greater thē the Duke, this pepers him, & there were nothing else.

Then a was naming plots; did yee not heare?

Yes but a fell from that, vnto discouery, to cor­rupt by money, and so attaine.

I, I, a meant some Fort, or Syttadell the Duke hath, his very face betraid his meaning, O hee is a very subtill and a dangerous knaue, but if a deale a Gods name we shall worme him.

But now comes the Stroake, the fatall blow, Fire, sword, & Poyson, O Canibal, thou bloody Canibal.

What had become of this poore state, had not we beene?

Faith it had lyen buried in [...]his owne ashes; had not a greater hand beene in't.

But note the Rascals resolution, after th'acts done, because a wo'd auoid al feare of torture, and cousen the Law, a wo'd kill himselfe? was there euer the like danger, brought to light in this age? sure we shall merite much, we shalbe able to keep two men a peece, & a two hand sword [Page] between vs, we will liue in fauour of the State, betray our ten or twelue treasons a weeke, and the people shall feare vs: come, to the Lord Lucio, the Sunne shall not goe down till a be hanged.

ACTVS 3. SCENA. 4.

Looke to my shop, & if there come euer a Schol­ler in blacke, let him speak with me, we that are shop-kee­pers in good trade, are so pestered, that we can scarse pick out an houre for our mornings meditation: & howsoeuer we are all accounted dull, and common iesting stocks, for your gallants; there are some of vs, doe not diserue it: for for my own part, I doe begin to bee giuen to my booke, I loue a scholler with my heart; for questionles there are meruelous things to bee done by Arte: why sir, some of thē wil tel you what is become of horses, & siluer spones, & wil make wenches dance naked to their beds: I am yet vnmarried, and because some of our neighbours are said to be Cuckoldes, I will neuer marrie without the consent of some of these schollers, that know what will cōe of it.

Are you busie sir?

Neuer to you sir, nor to any of your coate. Sir is there any thing to bee done by Art, concerning the great heire we talked on?

Will shee, will shee? shee shall come running into my house at the farther corner, in Sa. Markes street, be­twixt three and foure.

Betwixt three and foure? shee's braue in clothes; is shee not?

O rich! rich! where should I get clothes to dresse her in? help me inuention: Sir, that her running through the streete, may be lesse noted, my Arte more shown, and your feare to speake with her lesse, shee shall come in a white wastcote, And—

What shall shee?

And perhaps torne stockings, she hath left her old wount else.

Sir my Lord Gonde. hath sent you a rare fish head.

It comes right, all things sute right with me, since I [Page] began to loue schollers, you shall haue it home with you, against she come: carrie it to this Gentlemans house.

The faire white house at the farther Corner at S. Marks street, make hast, I must leaue you too Sir. I haue two howers to studdie; buy a new Axidens, & plye your booke, and you shall want nothing, that all the schollers in the Towne can doe for you.

Heauen prosper both our studdies, what a dull slaue was I, before I fell in loue with this learning? not worthy to tread vpon the earth, and what fresh hopes it [...]ath put into me? I doe hope within this twelue moneth, to be able by Arte, to serue the Court with silkes, and not vndoe my selfe; to trust knights, and yet get in my money againe; to keepe my wife braue, and yet she keepe no bo­die else, so.

Your Lordship is most honorably welcome, in regard of your Nobilitie, but most especially in regard of your schollership: did your Lordship come openly?

Sir this cloake keepes mee priuate, besides no man will suspect me to bee in the companie of this Gen­tleman, with whome, I will desire you to bee acquainted, he may proue a good customer to you.

For plaine silkes and veluets.

Are you scholasticall?

Something adicted to the Muses.

I hope they will not dispute.

You haue no skil in the black Arte?

Sir yonders a Gentleman, enquires hastily for Count Valore.

For me? what is he?

One of your followers my Lord I thinke.

Let him come in.

Shall I talke with you in priuat Sir?

‘ CountCome to the Court, your busines cals you thither’, I will goe, farewel Sir, ile see your silkes some other time: Farewell Lazarillo.

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Will not your Lordshippe take a peece of Beefe with mee?

Sir I haue greater businesse then eating; I will leaue this gentlemā with you.

No, no, no, no: now doe I feele that straind strug­ling within me, that I thinke I could prophesie.

The Gentleman is meditating.

Hunger, valour, Loue, ambition, are alike plea­sing, and let our Philosophers say what they will, are one kind of heat, onely hunger is the safest, ambition is apt to fall; Loue and valour are not free from dangers, onely hunger, begotten of some olde limber Courtier, in pan'd hose, and nurs'd by an Attornies wife, now so thryuen, that he need not feare to be of the great Turkes guarde: is so free from al quarrells, and dangers, so ful of hopes, ioyes, and ticklings, that my life is not so deere to mee, as his acquaintance.

Sir, the fish head is gone.

Sir, I was harkening to you.

I will heare nothing; I will breake my knife, the ensigne of my former happie state, knocke out my teeth, haue them hung at a Barbers, and enter into Religion.

Why Sir, I think, I knowe whether it is gon.

See the rashnesse of man in his nature; whither? whither? I doe vnsay [...] that I haue said, goe on, goe on: Boy, I humble my selfe and follow thee; Farewell sir.

Not so Sir, you shal take a peece of Beefe with me.

I cannot stay.

By my fay, but you shall Sir; in regard of your loue to learning, and your skill in the blacke Arte.

I do hate learning, and I haue no skill in the blacke Arte; I would I had.

Why your desire is sufficient to me, you shall stay.

The most horrible, and detested curses that can be imagined; light vppon all the professors of that Arte; may they be drunke, & when they goe to cōjure, & reele in the Circle, may the Spirits by them rais'd, teare am in peeces, and hang their quarters on old broken walles, and Steeple tops.

This speech of yours, shewes you to haue some skill in the Science, wherefore in ciuilitie, I may not suffer you to depart emptie.

My stomacke is vp, I cannot indure it, I will fight in this quarrell, as soone as for my Prince. Roome, make way:

Hunger commaunds, my valour must obay.

Is the Duke priuate?

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He is alone, but I thinke your Lordship may en­ter.

Who's with the Duke?

The Count is newe gone in, but the Duke will come forth, before you can be weary of waiting.

I will attend him here.

I must wait without the dore.

Doth he hope to cleare his sister, shee will come no more to my house, to laugh at me: I haue sent her to a habitation, where when she shal be seene, it wil set a glosse vpon her name; yet vpon my soule I haue bestowed her amongst the purest hearted creatures of her sexe, and the freest from dissimulation; for their deedes are all alike, on­ly they dare speake, what the rest thinke: the women of this age, if there bee any degrees of comparison amongst their sexe, are worse then those of former times; for I haue read of women, of that trueth, spirit, and constancy, that were they now liuing, I should indure to see them: But I feare the writers of the time, belied them, for how familiar a thing is it with the Poets of our age, to extoll their whores, which they call mistresses, with heauenly praises? but I thanke their furies, and their craz'd braines, beyond beleefe: nay how many that would faine seeme serious, haue dedicated graue works to ladies tooth-lesse, hollow ei'd, their haire shedding, purple fac'd, their nayles appa­rantly comming off; and the bridges of their noses bro­ken downe; and haue called thē the choyse handy workes of nature, the patterns of perfection, and the wondermēt of women. Our women begin to swarme like Bees in Summer: as I came hither, there was no payre of stayers, no entry, no lobbey, but was pestred with them: mee thinkes there might bee some course taken to destroy them.

I doe accept your money, walke here, and when the Duke comes out, you shall haue fit opportunitie to [Page] deliuer your petition to him.

I thanke you heartily, I pray you who's he that walkes there?

A Lord, and a Souldier, one in good fauor with the Duke; if you could get him to deliuer your Petition—

What do you say Sir?

If you could get him to deliuer your petition for you, or to second you, 'twere sure.

I hope I shall liue to requite your kindnes.

You haue already.

May it please your Lordship—

No, No.

To consider the estate—

No.

Of a poore oppressed Country Gentlewoman.

No, it doth not please my Lordship.

First and foremost, I haue had great injurie, then I haue beene brought vp to the Towne three times.

A poxe on him, that brought thee to the Towne.

I thanke your good Lordship heartily; though I cannot heare well, I knowe it grieues you; and heere wee haue beene delai'd, and sent downe againe, and fetched vp againe, and sent downe againe, to my great charge: And now at last they haue fetched mee vppe, and fiue of my daughters—

Enough to damne fiue worldes.

Handsome young women, though I say it, they are all without, if it please your Lordship, Ile call them in.

Fiue women! how many of my sences should I haue left me then? call in fiue Diuels first.

I see your Lordship does belieue, that they are without, and I perceiue you are much mou'd at our in­iurie: her's a paper will tell you more.

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A way.

It may bee you had rather here mee tell it viua voce, as they say.

O no, no, no, no, I haue heard it before.

Then you haue heard of enough injurie, for a poore Gentlewoman to receiue.

Neuer, neuer, but that it troubles my conscience, to wish any good to those women; I could afford them to bee valiant, and able, that it might be no disgrace for a Souldier to beat them.

I hope your Lordship will deliuer my petition to his grace, and yoo may tell him withall—

What, I will deliuer any thing against my selfe, to be rid on thee.

That yesterday, about three a clocke, in the after noone, I met my aduersarie.

Giue me thy paper, he can abide no long tales.

'Tis very short my Lord, and I demaunding of him —

Ile tell him that shal serue thy turne.

How?

Ile tell him that shall serue thy turne, be gone: man neuer doth remember how great his offences are, till hee doe meet with one of you, that plagues him for them: why should women only aboue all other creatures that were created for the benefit of mā, haue the vse of speech? or why should any deed of theirs, done by their fleshly ap­petites, be disgracefull to their owners? nay, why should not an act done by any beast I keepe, against my consent, disparage me as much as that of theirs?

Here's some few Angels for your Lordship.

Againe? yet more torments?

Indeed you shall haue them.

Keepe off.

A small gratuit for your kindnesse.

Hold away.

Why then I thank your Lordship, Ile gather thē vp [Page] againe, and Ile bee sworne, it is the first money, that was refus'd, since I came to the court.

What can she deuise to say more?

Truely I would haue willingly parted with them to your Lordship.

I beleeue it, I beleeue it.

But since it is thus—

More yet.

I will attend without, and expect an answere.

Doe, begone, and thou shalt expect, and haue any thing, thou shalt haue thy answere from him; and he were best to giue thee a good one at first, for thy deafe impor­tunitie, will conquer him too, in the end.

God blesse your Lordship, & all that fauour poore distressed country gentlewoman.

All the diseases of man, light vpon them that doe, and vpon me when I doe; a weeke of such daies, would ei­ther make me starke mad, or tame mee: yonder other wo­man that I haue sure enough, shall answer for thy sinnes: dare they incense me still, I will make them feare as much to be ignorant of mee and my moodes, as men are to bee ignorant of the lawe they liue vnder. Who's there? My blood grew cold, I began to feare my Suters returne; tis the Duke.

Fortune, befriended mee against my will, with this good old country gentlewomā; I beseech your grace, to view fauourably the petition of a wrōged gentlewomā.

What Gondarino, are you become a petitioner for your enemies?

My Lord, they are no enemies of mine, I confesse the better to couer my deeds, which somtimes were loose [Page] enough, I pretended it, as it is wisdome, to keepe close our incontinencie; but since you haue discouered me, I will no more put on that vizar, but will as freely open all my thoughts to you, as to my Confessor.

What say you to this?

I will read this at better leisure: Gondarino, where is the Lady?

At his house.

No, shee is departed thence.

Whither?

Gondarino, thou shalt proue it, or suffer worse then shee should doe.

Gondarino, lead on, wee'l follow thee.

ACTVS IIII. SCEN. II.

Here hope I to meete my citizen, and here hopes he to meete his scholler; I am sure I am graue enough, to his eies, and knaue enough to deceiue him: I am beleeued to conjure, raise stormes, and diuels, by whose power I can doe wonders; let him beleeue so still, beleefe hurts no man: I haue an honest blacke cloake, for my knaue­rie, and a Generall pardon for his foolerie, from this present day, till the day of his Breaking. Ist not a mise­rie, and the greatest of our age, to see a handsome, young, faire enough, and well mounted wench, humble her selfe, in an old stammell petticoate, standing possest of no more fringe then the street can allow her: her vpper parts so poore and wanting, that yee may see her bones through her bodies: shooes she would haue, if her captaine were come ouer, and is content the while to deuote her selfe to antiēt slippers. These premisses wel cōsidered, gentlemē will mooue, they make me melt I promise yee, they stirre me much; and were't not for my smooth, soft, silken Citi­zen, I would quit this transitorie trade, get mee an euerla­sting robe, feare vp my conscience, and turne Serieant. But here a comes, is mine as good as prize: Sir Pandarus be my speed, ye are most fitly met sir.

And you as wel encountred, what of this heire? [Page] hath your bookes beene propitious?

Sir, 'tis done, shees come, shee is in my house, make your selfe apt for Courtship, stroke vp your stockings, loose not an inch of your legges goodnesse; I am sure yee weare sockes.

There your bookes faile ye Sir, in truth I weare no sockes.

I would ye had Sir, it were the sweeter grace for your legges; get on your gloues, are they perfum'd?

A pretty wash Ile assure you.

'Twill serue: your offers must be full of bounty, veluets to furnish a gowne, silkes for petticoats and fore­parts, shag for linings; forget not some pretty jewell to fa­sten, after some little complement: if shee deny this curte­sie, double your bounties, be not wanting in aboundance, fulnesse of guiftes, linckt with a pleasing tongue, will winne an Anchorite. Sir, yee are my friende, and friende to all that professes good letters; I must not vse this office else, it fits not for a scholler, and a gentleman: those stoc­kings are of Naples, they are silke?

Ye are againe beside your text; sir, they are a the best of wooll, and they cleeped jersey.

Sure they are very deare?

Nine shillings, by my loue to learning.

Pardon my iudgement, wee schollers vse no other obiects, but their bookes.

There is one thing intomb'd in that graue breast, that makes mee equally admire it with your schollership.

Sir, but that in modestie I am bound not to affect mine own commendation, I would inquire it of you?

Sure you are very honest, and yet yee haue a kind of modest feare to shew it: doe not deny it, that face of yours, is a worthy learned modest face.

Sir, I can blush.

Vertue and Grace are alwaies paird together: but I will leaue to stir your blood Sir, and now to our busines.

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Forget not my instructions.

I apprehend ye Sir, I will gather my selfe together, with my best phrases, and so I shall discourse in some sort takingly.

This was well worded Sir, and like a Scholer.

The Muses fauor me as my entents are vertuous; Sir ye shall be my tutor, tis neuer to late Sir to loue lear­ning: when I can once speake true latine —

What do you intend Sir?

Marry I will then begger all your Bawdy writers, and vndertake at the perrill of my owne inuention, all Pageants, poesies for Chimnies, Speeches for the Dukes entertainment, whensoeuer and whatsoeuer; nay I will builde at mine owne charge, an Hospital, to which shall retyer, all diseased opinions, all broken Poets, all Prose-men that are fallen from small sence, to meere let­ters; and it shall be lawfull, for a Lawyer, if he bee a ciuill man, though a haue vndone others & himselfe by the lan­guage; to retyre to this poore life, and learne to be honest.

Sir ye are very good, and very charitable: ye are a true patterne for the Citie Sir.

Sir, I do knowe sufficiently their shop-bookes can­not saue them, there is a further end—

Oh: Sir much may be done by manescript.

I do confesse it Sir, prouided still they be canoni­coll, and haue some worthy handes set to vm for probati­on: but we forget our selues.

Sir enter when you please, and all good language typpe your tongue.

All that loue learning pray for my good successe.

ACTVS IIII SCENA III.

Boy, where abouts are we?

Sir by all tokens this is the house, bawdy I am sure by the broken windowes, the fish head is within, if ye dare [Page] venture, here you may surprise it.

The miserie of man may fitly bee compared to a Didapper, who when shee is vnder water past our sight, and indeed can seeme no more to vs, rises againe, shakes but her selfe, and is the same she was; so is it stil with trans­sitorie man, this day: oh but an howre since, & I was mighty, mighty in knowledge, mighty in my hopes, migh­tie in blessed meanes, and was so truly happie, that I durst a said, liue Lazarello, and be satisfied: but now—

Sir ye are yet a flote and may recouer, be not your owne wracke, here lies the harbor, goe in and ride at ease.

Boy I am receiued to be a Gentleman, a Courti­er, and a man of Action, modest, and wise, and bee it spo­ken with thy reuerence Child, abounding vertous; and would'st thou haue a man of these choise habits, couet the couer of a baudy house? yet if I goe not in, I am but—

But what Sir?

Dust boy, but dust, and my soule vnsatisfied shall haunt the keepers of my blessed Saint, and I will appeare.

An Asse to all men; Sir these are no meanes, to stay your appetite, you must resolue to enter.

Were not the house subiect to Martiall law—

If that be all, Sir ye may enter, for ye can know no­thing here, that the Court is ignorant of, onely the more eyes shall looke vpon yee, for there they winck one at a­nothers faults.

If I doe not,

Then ye must beat fairely backe againe, fal to your physical messe of porridge, & the twice sackt carease of a Capon, Fortune may fauour you so much, to send the bread to it: but 'its a meere venture, and money may bee put out vpon it.

I will goe in and liue; pretend some loue to the gentlewoman, screw my self in affectiō, & so be satisfied.

This flie is caught, is masht alreadie, I will sucke him, and lay him by.

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Muffle your selfe in your cloake by any meanes, 'tis a receiued thing among gallants, to walke to their lea­cherie, as though they had the rhume, 'twas well you brought not your horse.

Why boy?

Faith Sir tis the fashion of our gentry, to haue their horses wait at dore like men, while the beasts their mai­sters, are within at racke & mainger, 'twould haue disco­uered much.

I will lay by these habits, formes, and graue res­pects of what I am, and bee my selfe; onely my appetite, my fire, my soule, my being, my deere appetite shall goe along with me, arm'd with whose strength, I feare les wil attempt the greatest danger dare oppose my furie: I am resolu'd where euer that thou art, most sacred dish, hid from vnhollowed eyes, to find thee out.

Sir, you may saue this long voyage, and take a shorter cut, you haue forgot your self, the fish head's here, your owne imaginations haue made you mad.

Tearme it a iealous fu [...]ie good my boy.

Faith Sir tearme it what you will, you must vse o­ther tearmes ere you can get it.

The lookes of my sweet loue are faire, Fresh and feeding as the Ayre.

Sir, you forget your selfe.

Was neuer seene so rare a head, Of any Fish aliue or dead.

Good Sir remember, this is the house Sir.

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Cursed be he that dare not venter.

Pitty your selfe sir, and leaue this furie.

For such a prize, and so I enter.

Dun's ith' myre, get out againe how a can: My honest gallant, Ile shew you one tricke more Then ere the foole your father dreamd of yet. Madona Iulia?

What newes my sweet rogue, my deere sinnes broker, what? good newes?

There is a kinde of ignorant thing, much like a Courtier, now gone in.

Is a gallant?

A shines not very gloriously, nor does a weare one skinne perfum'd to keepe the tother sweet; his coate is not in or, nor does the world run yet on wheeles with him; is rich enough, and has a small thing followes him, like to a boate tied to a tall ships taile: giue him entertain­ment, be light and flashing like a Meteor, hug him about the necke, giue him a kisse, and lisping crie, good Sir; and is thine owne, as fast as a were tied to thine armes, by In­dentures.

I dare doe more then this, if a bee a the true Court cut; Ile take him out a lesson worth the learning: but wee are but their Apes; whats he worth?

Be he rich, or poore, if he will take thee with him, thou maist vse thy trade free from Constables, and Mar­shals: who hath bin here since I went out?

There is a gentlewoman sent hither by a Lord, shee's a peece of dainty stuffe my rogue, smooth, and soft, as new Satten; shee was neuer gumb'd yet boy, nor fret­ted.

Where lies shee?

Shee lies aboue, towards the street, not to be spoke with, but by the Lord that sent her, or some from him, we haue in charge from his seruants.

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Peace, a comes out againe vpon discouery; vp with all your canuas, hale him in; and when thou hast done, clap him a board brauely, my valiant Pinnace.

Be gone, I shall doe reason with him.

Are you the speciall beauty of this house?

Sir, you haue giuen it a more speciall regard by your good language, then these blacke brows can merit.

Lady you are faire.

Faire sir? I thanke yee; all the poore meanes I haue left to be thought gratefull, is but a kisse, and ye shall haue it Sir.

Ye haue a very moouing lip.

Prooue it againe Sir, it may bee your sence was set too high, & so ouer wrought it selfe.

'Tis still the same: how farre may ye hold the time to be spent Lady?

Foure a clocke sir.

I haue not eate to day.

You will haue the better stomacke to your supper; in the meane time, Ile feed ye with delight.

'Tis not so good vpon am emptie stomacke: if it might be without the trouble of your house, I would eate?

Sir, we can haue a Capon ready.

The day?

'Tis Friday Sir.

I doe eat little flesh vpon these daies.

Come sweet, ye shall not thinke on meat; Ile drow [...] it with a better appetite.

I feele it worke more strangely, I must eate.

'Tis now too late to send; I say ye shall not thinke on meat: if ye doe, by this kisse Ile be angry.

I could be farre more sprightfull, had I eaten, and more lasting.

What wil ye haue Sir? name but the Fish, my maid shall bring it, if it may be got.

Me thinks your house should not be so vnfurnisht, as not to haue some pretty modicum?

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It is so now: but cou'd ye stay till supper?

Sure I haue offended highly and much, and my in­flictions make it manifest, I will retire henceforth, and keep my chamber, liue priuatly, and die forgotten.

Sir I must craue your pardō, I had forgot my selfe; I haue a dish of meat within, & it is fish, I think this Duke­dome holds not a daintier: 'tis an Vmbranoes head.

Lady, this kisse is yours, and this.

Hoe? within there? couer the board, and set the fish head on it.

Now am I so truely happy, so much aboue all fate and fortune, that I should despise that man, durst say, Re­member Laz [...]rello, thou art mortall.

This is the villaine, lay hands on him.

Gentlemen, why am I thus intreated? what is the nature of my crime?

Sir, though you haue carried it a great while pri­uatly, and (as you thinke) well; yet we haue seene your Sir, and we doe know thee Lazarello, for a traitor.

The gods defend our Duke.

Amen. Sir, Sir, this cannot saue that stiffe necke from the halter.

Gentlemen, I am glad you haue discouer'd him, a should not haue eaten vnder my roofe for twenty poūds; and surely I did not like him, when a cal'd for Fish.

My friends, will ye let me haue that little fauour—

Sir, ye shall haue law, and nothing else.

To let me stay the eating of a bit or two, for I pro­test I am yet fasting?

Ile haue no traitor come within my house.

Nowe could I wish my selfe, I had beene Traitor, I haue strength enough for to endure it, had I but patience: Man thou art but grasse, thou art a bubble, and thou must perish.

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Away sir.

As thou hast hope of man, stay but this dish this two houres, I doubt not but I shall be discharged: by this light I will marry thee.

You shall marry me first then?

I doe contract my selfe vnto thee nowe, before these gentlemen.

Ile preserue it till you be hangd, or quitted.

Thankes, thankes.

Away, away, you shall thanke her at the gallows.

Adiew, adiew.

If he liue, Ile haue him; if he be hang'd, there's no losse in it.

Hast thou prouided one to beare my letter to my brother?

I haue enquir'd, but they of the house will suffer no letter nor message to bee carried from you, but such as the Lord Gondarino shall bee acquainted with: Truly Ma­dam, I suspect the house to be no better then it should be.

What doest thou doubt?

Faith, I am loath to tell it Madam.

Out with it, 'tis not true modesty to feare to speak that thou doest thinke.

I thinke it be one of these same bawdy houses.

'Tis no matter wench, wee are warme in it; keepe thou thy minde pure, and vpon my word, that name will doe thee no hurt: I cannot force my selfe yet to feare any thing; when I do get out, Ile haue another encounter with my Woman Hater. Here will I sit, I may get sight of some of my friendes, it must needes be a comfort to them to see me here.

Are wee all sufficiently disguiz'd? for this house where shee attendes mee, is not to bee visited in our own shapes.

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We are not our selues.

I know the house to be sinful ynough, yet I haue bin heretofore, and durst now, but for discouering of you, appeare here in my owne likenesse.

Where's Lucio?

My Lord, he said, the affaires of the Common­wealth, would not suffer him to attend alwayes.

Some great ones questionlesse that hee will han­dle.

Come, let vs enter?

See how Fortune striues, to reuenge my quarrell vpon these women, shee's in the window, were it not to vndoe her, I should not looke vpon her.

Lead vs. Gondarino.

'Tis shee?

It is.

Stay, stay.

This wil not downe with me, I dare not trust this fellow.

Leaue her here, that onely shall be her punish­ment, neuer to be fetcht from hence; but let her vse her trade to get her liuing.

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Stay, good my Lord, I do beleeue all this, as great men as I haue had knowne whores to their sisters, & haue laught at it, I would faine heare how she talkes, since shee grew thus light: will your grace make him shew himselfe to her, as if hee were now come to satisfie her longing? whilest we vnseene of her, ouer-heare her wantonnes, let's make our best of it now we shall haue good mirth.

Doe it Gondarino.

I must; fortune assist me but this once.

Here we shall stand vnseene, and neere ynough.

Madame, Oriana.

Whose that? O! my Lord?

Shall I come vp?

O you are merry, shall I come downe?

It is better there.

What is the confession of the lye you made to the Duke, which I scarce beleeue yet you had impudence y­nough to do? did not gaine you so much faith with me, as that I was willing to be at your Lo. bestowing, till you had recouered my credit, and confest your selfe a lyar, as you pretended to do? I confesse I began to feare you, and desir'd to be out of your house, but your owne followers forc'd me hither.

'Tis well suspected, dissemble still, for there are some may heare vs.

More trickes yet, my Lord? what house this is I know not, I only know my selfe, it were a great conquest if you could fasten a scandale vpon me: 'fayth my Lord, giue me leaue to write to my brother?

Come downe.

Come downe.

If it please your grace there's a backe dore.

Come meet vs there then?

It seemes you are acquainted with the house.

I haue bin in it.

She saw you, and dissembled.

Sir, we shall know that better.

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My Lord?

Secretary, fetch the gowne I vse to read petitions in, and the standish I answer French Letters with, and call in the gentleman that attends:

I would not haue appear'd to you thus ignorantly attir'de without a tooth-picke in a ribban, or a ring in my band­strings.

Your Lordship sent for me?

I did: Sir your long practise in the state vnder a great man hath led you to much experience.

My Lord.

Suffer not your modesty to excuse it, in short and in priuat I desire your direction, I take my studie already to be furnisht after a graue and wise methode.

What will this Lord do?

My book-strings are sutable & of a reaching colour.

How's this?

My Standish of Wood strange and sweete, and my fore-flap hangs in the right place, and as neare Machiauels, as can be gathered by tradition.

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Are there such men as will say nothing abroad. and play the fooles in their lodgings? this Lord must be followed: and hath your Lordship some new made words to scatter in your speeches in publicke, to gaine note, that the hearers may carry them away, and dispute of them at dinner?

I haue Sir: and besides my seueral gownes and caps agreeable to my seuerall occasions.

'Tis wel, and you haue learn'd to write a bad hand, that the Readers may take paines for it.

Yes sir: and I giue out I haue the palsie.

Good, 'twere better though, if you had it, your Lo. hath a Secretary, that can write fayre, when you purpose to be vnderstood.

Faith sir I haue one, there he stands, he hath bin my secretary this 7. yeares, but he hath forgotten to write.

If he can make a writing face, it is not amisse, so he keep his own counsell: your Lo. hath no hope of the gout?

Vh, little sir, since the paine in my right foote left me.

'Twill be some scandale to your wisdome, though I see your Lo. knowes ynough in publike businesse.

I am not imploy'de (though to my desert) in occa­sion forraine, nor frequented for matters domesticall.

Not frequented? what course takes your Lordship?

The readiest way, my dore stands wide, my Secre­tary knowes I am not denied to any.

In this (giue me leaue) your Lordship is out of the way: make a backe dore to let out Intelligencers; seeme to be euer busie, and put your dore vnder keepers, and you shall haue a troope of clients sweating to come at you.

I haue a back-dore already, I will henceforth be bu­sie, secretary run and keepe the dore.

This will fetch am?

I hope so.

My Lord, there are some require accesse to you a­bout weightie affaires of state.

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All readie.

I told you so.

How waightie is the busines.

Treason my Lord.

Sir, my debts to you for this are great.

I will leaue your Lordship now.

Sir my death must be sudaine, if I requite you not; at the backe dore good Sir.

I will be your Lordships intelligencer for once.

My Lord.

Let'am in, and say I am at my studie.

Where is your Lord?

At his studie, but he will haue you brought in.

Why Gentlemen, what will you charge mee withall?

Treason, horrible treason, I hope to haue the leading of thee to prison, and pricke thee on 'ith arse with a halbert: to haue him heng'd that salutes thee, and call all those in question, that spit not vpon thee.

My thred is spunne, yet might I but call for this dish of meat at the gallous, in stead of a Psalme, it were to be indur'd: the Curtaine opens, now my end drawes on.

Gentlemen I am not emptie of waightie occasi­ons at this time; I pray you your busines.

My Lord, I thinke wee haue discouer'd one of the most blodie Traitors, that euer the world held.

Signior Lazarillo, I am glad ye'are one of this disco­uery, giue me your hand.

My Lord that is the Traitor.

Keepe him off, I would not for my whole estate haue toucht him.

My Lord.

Peace Sir, I know the diuel is at your tongues end, to furnish you with speeches? what are the particulars? [Page] you charge him with.

We haue confer'd our notes, & haue extracted that, which we will iustifie vpon our oathes.

That he would bee greater then the Duke, that he had cast plots for this, and meant to corrupt some to betray him, that he would burne the Cittie, kill the Duke, and poyson the priuie Councell; and lastly kill himselfe. Though thou deseru'st iustly to bee hanged, with silence yet I allow thee to speake, be short.

Peace, such hath euer beene the clemencie of my gratious maister the Duke, in all his proceedings, that I had thought, and thought I had thought rightly; that mallice would long ere this, haue hid her selfe in her den, and haue turn'd her owne sting against her owne heart: but I well now perceiue; that so forward is the dispositi­on of a depraued nature; that it doth not onely seeke re­uenge, where it hath receiued iniuries; but many times thirst after their destruction, where it hath met with bene­fits.

But my good Lord—

Lets gagge him.

Peace againe, but many times thirst after distructi­on, where it hath met with benefits; there I left: Such, & no better are the busines, that we haue now in hand.

Hee's excellently spoken.

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Hee'l wind a Tratour I warrant him.

But surely me thinkes, setting aside the touch of Conscience, and all other inward convulsions.

Hee'l be hang'd, I know by that word.

Your Lordship may consider—

Hold thy peace: thou canst not answere this speech: no Tratour can answere it: but because you can­not answere this speech; I take it you haue confessed the Treason.

The Count Valore was the first that discouered him, and can witnes it, but hee left the matter to your Lordships graue consideration.

I thanke his Lordship, carry him away speedily to the Duke.

Away with him, Ile follow you, looke you pyni­on him, and take his money from hurt, least he swallow a shilling and kill himselfe.

Get then on before.

ACTVS 5. SCENA. 3.

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Count, I dare yet pronounce again, thy Sister is not honest.

You are your self my Lord, I like your setel'dnes.

Count thou art yong, and vnexperienced, in the darke hidden wayes of women. Thou dar'st affirme with confidence a Ladie of fifteene may be a maide.

Sir if it were not so, I haue a Sister would set neer my heart.

Let her sit neer her shame, it better fits her: call backe the bloud that made our streame in neerenesse, and turne the Currant to a better vse, 'tis too much mud­ded, I doe greeue to know it.

Dar'st thou make vp againe, dar'st to turne face, knowing wee know thee, hast thou not beene discouered openly: did not our eares heare her denie thy courtings? did we not see her blush with modest anger, to be so ouer­taken by a tricke; can ye denie this Lord?

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Sir, Sir, these are but wordes and trickes, giue me the proofe.

What need a better proofe then your Lordship, I am sure ye haue laine with her my Lord.

I haue confest it Sir.

I dare not giue thee credit without witnes.

Doe's your Grace thinke, wee carry seconds, with vs, to search vs, and see faire play: your Grace hath beene ill tutord in the businesse; but if you hope to trie her truly, and satisfie your selfe what frailtie is, giue he the Test: doe not remember Count shee is your Sister; nor let my Lorde the Duke beleeue shee is faire; but put her too'it without hope or pittie, then yee shall see that goulden forme flie off, that all eyes wonder at for pure and fixt, and vnder it, base blushing copper; met­tall not worth the meanest honnor: you shall behold her then my Lord Transparent, looke through her heart, and veiw the spirits how they leape, and tell mee then, I did belie the Ladie.

So please your Grace wee haue discouer'd a a villaine and a Traytour: the Lord Lucio hath examin'd him, and sent him to your Grace for Iudgement.

My Lord, I dare absoule him from all sinne of Treason: I knowe his most ambitions is but a dish of meate; which a'hath hunted, with so trew a sent, that hee deserueth the Coller, not the Halter.

Why do they bring him thus boūd vp? the poore man had more neede of some warme meate, to comforte his cold stomacke.

Your grace shall haue the cause hereafter, when when you may laugh more freely. But these are cal'd Informers: men that liue by Treason; as Rat-chatchers do by poyson.

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[...]ld there were no heauier prodigies hung ouer vs, then this poore fellow, I durst redeeme all perils ready to powre thēselues vppon this state, with a cold Custard.

Your grace might do it, without dāger toy our persō.

My Lord, if euer I intended Treason against your person, or the state, vnles it were by wishing from your Table, some dish of meate; which I must needs con­fesse, was not a subjects part: or coueting by stealth, supp [...] from those noble bottles, that no mouth keeping allege­ance trew, should dare to tast: I must confesse with more then couetous eyes, I haue bee held those deare conceal'd dishes, that haue been brought in, by cunning equipage, to waite vpon your graces pallate: I do confesse out of this present heat, I haue had stratagemes, & ambuscadoes: but God be thanked they haue neuer tooke.

Count, this busines is your owne; when you haue done, repaire to vs.

I will attend your grace: Lazarello, you are at li­bertie, be your owne man againe; and if ye can be maister of your wishes, I wish it may be so.

I humbly thanke your Lordship: I must bee vn­manerly, I haue some present busines, once more I hearti­lie thanke your Lordship.

Now euen a word or two to you, and so farewel; you think you haue deseru'd much of this state, by this dis­couerie: y' are a slauish people, growne subject to the com­mon course of all men. How much vnhappie were that noble spirite, could worke by such baser gaines? what mi­sery would not a knowing man put on, with willingnes, ere he see him selfe growne fat and full fed, by fall of those you rise by? I do discharge ye my attendance; our health­ful state needes no such Leeches to suck out her bloud.

I do beseech your Lordship.

Good my L.

[Page]I must dispatch him too. Now Lord Lucio, what busines bring you hyther?

Faith Sir, I am discouering what will become of that notable piece of Treason, entended by that varlet La­zarello; I haue sent him to the Duke for judgment.

Sir you haue performed the part of a most care­full states-man, and let me say it to your face, Sir of a Fa­ther to this state: I would wish you to retyre, and insconce your selfe in studie: for such is your dayly labor, and our feare, that the losse of an houre may breed our ouerthrow.

Sir I will be cōmaunded by your judgement, and though I find it a trouble scant to be waded through, by these weake yeares, yet for the deare care of the Com­mon-wealth, I will bruse my braynes, and cōfine my selfe to much vexation.

Goe, and mayest thou knocke downe Treason like an Oxe.

Amen.

Haue I spoke thus much in the honor of learning? learn'd the names of the seuē liberall Sciences, before my mariage; & since, haue in hast written Epistles congratula­ry, to the [...]9. Muses: & is she prou'd a whore & a Beggar?

Tis true, you are not now to be taught, that no man can be learn'd of a suddaine; let not your first proiect dis­courage you, what you haue lost in this, you may get againe in Alcumie.

Feare not husband, I hope to make as good a wife, as the best of your neighbours haue, and as honest.

I will go home; good sir do not publish this, as lōg as it run's amōgst our selues; 'tis good honest mirth: you'l come hōe to supper; I meane to haue al her friends & mine as ill as it goes.

Do wisely sir, & bid your own friēds, your whole wealth wil scarce feast all hers, neither is it for your cedit, to walke the streets, with a woman so noted, get you home, and prouide her cloathes: let her come an houre hēce with an hād-basket & shift her selfe, she'l serue to sit at the vpper end of the Table, & drink to your customers.

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Arte is just, and will make me a mendes.

No doubt Sir.

The chiefe note of a Scholler you say, is to go­uerne his passions; wherefore I do take all patiently; in signe of which my most deare wife, I do kisse thee: make hast home after me, I shall be in my Studie.

Goe, a vaunt, my new Citie dame, send mee what you promised me for consideration; and may'st thou prooue a Lady.

Thou shalt haue it, his silkes shall flye fo [...] it.

How sweetis a calme after a tempest, what is there nowe that can stand betwixt mee and felicitie? I haue gon through all my crosses constātly; haue confoūd­ed my enimies, and know where to haue my longings sa­tisfied; I haue my way before me, there is the dore, and I may freely walke into my delights. knocke Boy.

Who's their?

Madona my loue, not guiltie, not guiltie, open the dore.

Art thou come sweet heart?

Yes to thy soft imbraces, and the rest of my ouer­flowing blisses; come let vs in and swime in our delights: a short grace as we goe, and so to meat.

Nay my deare loue, you must beare with mee in this; we'le to the Church first.

Shall I be sure of it then.

By my loue you shall.

I am content, for I do now wish to hould off long­er, to whet my appetite, and doe desire to meet with more troubles, so I might conquere them.

Come Mouse, will you walke?

I pray thee let me bee deliuered of the joy I am so big with; I doe feele that high heat within me, that I begin to doubt whether I be mortall?

That is to marry a whore.

When that is done, you'l begin to repent, vpon a full stomacke; but I see, 'tis but a forme in destiny, not to be alter'd.

Sir, what may be the currant of your busines, that thus you single out your time and place?

Madame, the businesse nowe impos'd vpon me, concernes you neerely; I wish some worser man might finish it.

Why are ye chang'd so? are ye not well sir?

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Yes madam, I am well, wo'd you were so.

Why sir? I feele my selfe in perfect health.

And yet ye cannot liue long, madam.

Why good Arrigo?

Why, ye must die.

I know I must, but yet my fate calls not vpon me.

It does; this hand the Duke commandes shall giue you death.

Heauen, and the powers diuine, guard well the innocent.

Who is my accuser?

Lord Gondarino.

I would not strike.

Haue you the power to saue?

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With hazzard of my life, if it should be knowne?

You will not venture that?

I will: Lady, there is that means yet to escape your death, if you can wisely apprehend it.

Ye dare not be so kind?

I dare, and will, if you dare but deserue it.

If I should slight my life, I were too blame.

Then madam, this is the meanes, or else you die: I loue you.

I shall beleeue it, if you saue my life.

And you must lie with me.

I dare not buy my life so.

Come ye must resolue, say yea or no.

Speake, will ye yeeld?

Villaine, I will not; murderer doe thy worst, thy base vnnoble thoughts dare prompt thee to; I am aboue thee slaue.

Will thou not be drawne to yeild by faire perswa­sions?

No nor by—

Peace, know your doom then; your Ladiship must remēber, you are not now at home, where you dare ieast at all that come about you: but you are fallen vnder my mercie, which shal be smal: if thou refuse to yeeld, heare what I haue sworn vnto my selfe; I will inioy thee, though it betweene the parting of thy soule and body. Yield yet and liue.

Ile guard the one, let heauens guard the tother.

Are ye so resolute then? Duk. frō aboue. Hold, hold, I say.

What haue I? yet more terror to my tragedy?

Lady, the scene of blood is done; ye are now as free from scandal, as from death.

I doe begin in a little to loue this woman; I could in­dure her already twelue miles off.

Sister, I am glad you haue brought your honour off so fairely, without losse: you haue done a worke aboue your sexe, the Duke admires it; giue him faire encounter.

Best of all comforts; may I take this hand, and call it mine?

I am your Graces handmaid.

Would ye had sed my selfe: might it not be so Lady?

Sister, say I: I know ye can affoard it.

My Lord, I am your subiect, you may command me, prouided still, your thoughts be faire and good.

My Lord, I am no more mine owne.

So: this bargaine was well driuen.

Duke, thou hast sold away thy selfe to all perdi­tion; thou art this present houre becomming cuckold: me thinkes I see thy gaule grate through thy veines, and jea­lousie seize thee with her talents: I knowe that womans nose must be cut off, shee cannot scape it.

Sir, we haue punishment for you.

I doe beseech your Lordship, for the wrongs this mā hath done me, let me pronounce his punishment.

Lady, I giue to you, he is your owne.

I doe beseech your grace, let me be banisht with al the speed that may be.

Stay still, you shall attend her sentence.

Lord Gondarino, you haue wroug'd me highly, yet since it sprung from no peculiar hate to me, but from a generall dislike vnto all women, you shall thus suffer for it; Arrigo, call in some Ladies to assist vs: will your Grace take your State?

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My Lord I doe beseech your Grace for any pu­nishment sauing this woman, let me bee sent vpon disco­uery of some Island, I doe desire but a small Gundele, with tenne Holland Cheeses, and ile vndertake it.

Sir ye must bee content, will ye sit downe? nay doe it willingly. Arrigo tie his armes close to the chaire, I dare not trust his patience.

Mai'st thou be quickly old and painted; mai'st thou dote vpon some sturdy Yeoman of the wood-yarde, and he be honest; mai'st thou be bar'd the lawfull lechery of thy Coach for want of Instruments; and last, bee thy wombe vnopen'd.

This fellow hath a prety gaule.

My Lord, I hope to see him purg'd ere a part.

Your Ladiships are welcome: I must desire your helpes, though you are no Phisitions, to doe a strange cure vpon this Gentleman.

In what we can assist ye Maddam, ye may com­maund vs.

Now do I fit like a Coniurer within my circle, and these the Diuels that are rais'd about mee, I will pray that they may haue no power vpon me.

Ladies fall off in couples, then with a soft still march with low demeanures, charge this Gentleman: ile be your leader.

Let me be quarter'd Duke quickly, I can endure it: these women, long for mans flesh, let them haue it.

Count, haue you euer seene so strange a passion? what would this fellow doe, if a should find himselfe in bed with a yong Ladie?

Faith my Lord, if a cou'd get a knife, sure a wo'd cut her throte, or else a wo'd doe as Hercules did by Lyeas, swing out her soule: has the true hate of a womā in him.

Low with your curseyes Ladies.

Come not too neere me, I haue a breath will poy­son yee, my lungs are rotten, and my stomack rawe; I [Page] am giuen much to belching: hold off, as you loue sweet aires; Ladies by your first nights pleasure, I coniure you, as you wo'd haue your husbands proper men, strong backes, and little legges, as you would haue 'um hate your waiting women.

Sir we must court yee till wee haue obtain'd some little fauour from those gracious eyes, tis but a kis a peece.

I pronounce perdition to ye all; ye are a parcell of that damned Crew, that fell downe with Lucifer, and here yee stayd on earth, to plague poore men; vanish, a­uaunt, I am fortified against your charmes; heauen grant me breath and patience.

Shall we not kisse then?

No, feare my lips with hot irons first, or stitch them vp like a Ferrets: O that this brunt were ouer.

Come, come, little rogue, thou art too maidenly by my troth, I thinke I must boxe thee, till thou bee'st boulder; the more bold, the more welcome: I pre thee kis me, be not afraid?

If there bee any here, that yet haue so much of the foole left in them, as to loue their Mothers, let them looke on her, and loath them too.

What a slouenly little villaine art thou, why dost thou not stroke vp thy haire? I thinke thou ne're comb'st it: I must haue it lie in better order; so, so, so, let me see thy hands, are they washt?

I would they were loose for thy sake.

She tortures him admirably.

The best that euer was.

Alas how cold they are poore golls, why do'st thee not get thee a musse?

Maddam, her's an old Country gentlewoman at the doore, that came nodding vp for Iustice, she was with the Lord Gondarino to day, and would now againe come? to the speech of him; she sayes.

Let her in, for sports sake, let her in.

Mercie O Duke, I doe appeale to thee: plan [...] [Page] Cannons there, and discharge them against my brest ra­ther: nay first, let this shee furie sit still where shee do's, and with her nimble fingers stroake my haire, play with my fingers endes, or anything, vntill my panting heart haue broken my brest.

You must abide her censure.

I see her come, vnbutton mee, for she wil speake.

Where is hee Sir?

Saue mee, I heare her.

There he is in state, to giue you audience.

How doe's your good Lordship?

Sicke of the spleene.

How?

Sicke.

Will you chew a Nutmeg, you shall not re­fuse it, tis very comfortable.

No Sir, you must endure.

For my petition; I hope your Lordship hath remembred me.

Faith I begin to pittie him, Arrigo take her off, beare her away; say her petition is granted.

Whether doe you draw me Sir? I know it is not my Lords pleasure I should be thus vsed, before my bu­sines be dispatched?

You shall know more of that without.

Vnbind him Ladies, but before he goe, this hee shal promise; for the loue I beare to our own sex, I would haue them still hated by thee, and inioyne thee as a pu­nishmēt, [Page] neuer herafter willingly to come in the presence or fight of any woman, nor neuer to seeke wrongfully the publike disgrace of any.

Tis that I would haue sworne, and doe: when I meddle with them, for their good, or their badde; may Time call back this day againe, and when I come in their companies, may I catch the poxe, by their breath, and haue no other pleasure for it.

Ye are too mercifull.

My Lord, I shew'd my sexe the better.

All is ouer-blowne Sister, y'are like to haue a faire night of it, and a Prince in your armes: lets goe my Lord.

Thus through the doubtfull Streams of Ioy and True loue doth wade, and finds at last releefe.