THE BASTARD: A TRAGEDY.

DVM PREMOR ATTOLLO [...]

LONDON, Printed for M. M. T. Collins, and Gabriell Bedell, and are to be sold at their shop at the Middle-Temple-gate in Fleetstreet, 1652.

Prologue.

NO Comick Scene shall here salute your eye,
Whose scoffing Vein may tickle, till you lye
Half breathless in your mirth, and so at best
Bribe your applause with some new minted jest.
The Tragick Buskin traverses our stage
In bloody Fillets, fitter for this Age,
Where Treason, Murder, Lust, and ev'ry Vice
Grows impudent, and rifles for the Dice.
Translation is no crime; We here impresse
A Spanish BASTARD in an English dresse;
And lay him at your Doores, that some of You
Mov'd with a milder Genius might bestow
Some favour on our Out-Cast; by your hand
Our Brat must dye or live, must fall or stand.
We crave your Charitable smile, the rather
Because he's not so Wise to know's own Father.
And Pallas-like (if w' are not too profane!)
He had no Mother but his Father's brain.
Thus Fatherless and Motherless! We sue
For him in humble flexures unto you:
My Faith assures me, many of you have known
To make some Bastards which you durst not own
For shame or fear; and some of you may be
Mistaken in your Fathers Pedigree;
Your favour cannot shame you; may h' invite
Your bounty, though but in a smile or mite.
Some Childless Signior, take him to his feet;
'Twere Cruelty to let him lie i'th' street:
A sin! alas! a shame! a sin! that He
Should beg upon the Parish-Charity.
[Page]He's born, and must be kept! faith! think upon't,
And stand his God-Fathers once at the Font:
His boon is not ambitious; since 'tis such,
Deign him your Patronage, h'wo'nt cost you much.
True Charity should feel no stomach qualms;
Know, Sirs, a BASTARD may deserve your Alms:
We crave your serious Thoughts, if any Crime
Render him odious, blame his Fate, not him;
He scorns Censorious Criticks; and don't fear
To stand the Barre to a judicious Ear;
For though to be a BASTARD be his Fate;
His Wit is sterling, and legitimate.
Exit.
Enter GASPAR.
The world so swarms with Bastards now, that I
Need not despair for want of Company;
I'me in among the Throng, although you say,
I came through the back-Doore, or by th' wrong-way,
I care not; if I may some Portion merit,
I am content, I beg not to inherit;
Though Bastardisme can make no Title good,
Yet know a BASTARD may have Noble blood;
And challenge Kindred with the best: my Name
Would not be made the White for squint-ey'd Fame
To dart her Arrows at, had every Front
Its Lineage and Descent well drawn upon't;
Nor would the world need Spectacles: 'tis known
Though I'm a BASTARD, not a common one;
Yet, that my Name is in my fore-head plac'd,
Blame th' Printer, 'twas he made me brazen-fac'd:
Perhaps he fear'd, lest I should stray, so some
(Reading my Name) might eas'ly bring me home.
Well! this poor favor sue I from your breath,
That, since I must be prest, 'tmay n't be to Death,
And that the Ballads may not rack my Fame,
A BASTARD craves this Portion, a good Name.

Drammatis Personae.

  • ALONZO, A Merchant, Father to Mariana.
  • ALVAREZ, An indebted Merchant, Father to Picarro.
  • FREDERICK, A rich old Humorist, Father to Balthazar.
  • ALVARADO, Uncle to Don Praepontio.
  • PRaePONTIO, A foolish Gallant, contracted to Varina.
  • CHAVES, A Florentine, Mariana's Paramour, for­merly Contracted to Eugenia.
  • RODERIGVEZ Brother to Eugenia.
  • BALTHAZAR, Contracted to Mariana.
  • PICARRO, Husband to Mariana.
  • GASPAR, A Bastard, Servant to Alonzo.
  • THOMASO, Servant to Chaves.
    • RVBIO,
    • HEBES,
    Servants to Praepontio.
  • MARIANA, Daughter to Alonzo.
  • VARINA, An Orphan in the Guardianship of Alonzo.
  • EVGENIA, Sister to Roderiguez, and deserted by Chaves.
  • CATALINA, Mariana's Maid.
  • CORINNA, Variana's Maid.
  • PRIEST.
  • TAYLOR,
  • FIDLERS,
  • MASQUERS,
  • 2. VARLOTS,
  • 3. BOYES,
  • GUARDS.

The Scene SIVILL.

THE BASTARD.

ACT. 1.

SCENE 1.

Enter Alonso and Gaspar.
Alonso.

ARt sure hee'l come?

Gasp.
I'm sure he promis'd me.
But Debtors words are like to whirl-winds, here
And ev'ry where when they should pay. This money
Is worse then bird-lime, or a Tertian Feaver,
And will stick close to their possession
That have it; specially to pay.
Alon.
Then thou
Beleev'st he will not come?
Gasp.
'Ts no point of Faith, Sir,
But I doe think so: send for him to Trucks,
To Passage, or Primero, and hee'l find
Ryals of eight, and Pistolets to play,
Or pawn his plate for't; but to pay your debt,
Tush! 'tis a trifle.
Alo.

What? six thousand Duccats?

Gas.
Faith! were it seven, the Hollanders (hee'l tell you)
This year surpris'd the Flota; and the ships
From th' Indies by the inauspitious blasts
Of the ill-boding North, are still kept off;
And then hee'l kisse away his hand in kindnesse,
With Beso las manos, criado de vuestra merced,
And for these terms expect forbearance.
Alo.
What
Shall I do then? I need my mony, and
Must have it immediatly.
Gas.
[Page 2]
Faith get it then
Which way you can; For on my conscience▪
He will not pay you, lesse you fairly set
An A [...]g [...]ill on' [...] shoulders; clap him up,
And then ne're fear your money.
Alo.
That were base;
Unworthy in me, who have still profess'd
My self his friend, to be the first that should
Shipwrack his Credit, which ith' Cities eye
Shines bright; the chiefest glory of us Merchants
Is Alvarez: no! I do know him honest,
And sure hee'l pay; if not, the sum's not great,
I can forbear't.
Gas.
Six thousand Duccats is
A sum of money, many an honest man
Would wish his patrimony.
Alo.
Say it be,
It is too little to o'repoize the worth
Of Alvarez: For should I once begin,
His other Creditors by my example
Would lay their Actions on him, keep him fast
For ever comming forth.
Gas.
Faith! not much matter,
There let him lie, and keep the pavement warm,
Tell to the silent Walls how he hath wasted
His wealth in riot, and by Drabs contracted
A foul consumption both to corps and purse;
Make the dumb stones his Confessors, they'l melt
Perchance into contrition, and weep
To see him made their Captive.
Alo.
Thou'rt too cruell;
I must not be so, lest that Widows prayers
Whom he hath cherisht, should draw vengeance on me,
And Orphans tears shed for his loss, rise up
In swelling Cataracts to overwhelm me.
Gas.
Consult with reason, Sir: this childish pitie
Is an effeminate passion, shake it off:
Say he hath spent his own rich patrimony,
And others wealth in purchasing a Name
To his posterity; pray tell me Signior,
Will that Name pay his debts? Or will those men
That have been better for his wealth, afford
Him so much kindnesse; 'twere but gratitude
As to content you and an hundred more
He stands engag'd to: Let me rule you, give me
Leave, I'll arrest him in my own Name, so
You may passe blamelesse: pray you do, when others
Have seiz'd on all, you'l wish perchance you'd ta'ne
[Page 3]My foolish counsell.
Alo.
Hold your tongue, I will not
Injure my friend so, I'll first lose it; tell me
What Cash affords your Desk?
Gas.

Ten thousand Duccas.

Alo.
See it told out with expedition;
My daughter's to be married, and must have
That as a part of portion.
Gas.
Married, Cousin?
You'l not be so ignoble to infringe
Your promise to me?
Alo.
'Twas an ill one, better
Broken then kept.
Gas.
Did I for this, when you
Deplum'd of your Estate, to shun the frown
Of envious Fortune, was constrain'd to crosse
The surly Ocean, and so steere your slight
Into the Indies, with a little remnant
Of your left wealth, content your Creditors,
Bring up your daughter only upon hopes
To have her for my pains, as then you know
You did oblige your self, that now another
Must reap my harvest: Let me tell you, Sir,
It is not honest in you:
Alo.
How now Bastard?
Dare you be muttring? Is't not more then I
Am any way oblig'd to, to maintain
Thee in the fashion of a Gentleman,
Make thoe my fellow, but thy tainted blood
Thinks to pollute mine? Urge me with a promise
Unjust as that was? You may passe, the doore
Stands open for you, and your Pasport's writ,
Take your course, Bastard.
Gas.
You're my Fate, your tongue
Hath power to transform my thoughts, create
Anew my resolutions; I confesse
From you I have my meat; my life depends
On your beneficent Genius: I offend
Ev'n to damnation, should I be ingrate
In my respect to you: I've left my hopes,
Your promise Let he now hath quite washt out,
No print of it remains within my breast:
Joyn her in Hymeneall rites with whom,
And when you please; my worst desires shall be,
Heav'ns give her joy.
Alo.
Now thou art honest, Gaspar.
I see thou dost affect me, I'll provide
To solemnize thy nuptials with some One
[Page 4]To thy advancement.
Gas.
Sir, Your bounteous hand
(I know's) too liberall: may I have his name
That must enjoy my Mistress?
Alo.
Balthasar!
Don Frederiques heire! But stay [...]'s Varina's portion
Already told and ticketed?
Gas.
Yes, Sir, and set apart.
Enter Praepontio and Rubio.
Prae.
Save you Sir; or rather as we say in French, Bon jour:
Is my illustrious Mistress stirring yet?
Alo.
She's none of the earliest risers: please you walk in and eat an
Olive, tast a cup of Alicant, and by that time she'l come.
Prae.

I thank you, Sir; but my stomack hath not yet digested the crudities of last nights Symbolum

Rub.

It might have done, I'm sure you fasted.

Gas.

And has not left picking his teeth yet.

Prae.

Yet if you please, my renowned Uncle, that must be, we will vouchsafe to warm our palats with a jar of your Monturkie.

Rub.

He means to Fox himself, that he may have Rhethorick to Court his Mistress: For, Facundi calices quem non fecere disertum, Dull Cups make men eloquent.

Prae.

My diminutive and defective knave, seal your lips.

Rub.

He's afeard I should cozen him of some of the Monturkie he hopes for.

Alo.

How fares your Uncle?

Prae.
Well, very well; he hath sent my Mistress a copy of his coun­tenance, and here she come.
Enter Varina.
Strike me not dead with those bright eyes, retort
Those splendent Sun-beams on your selfe, who only
Can bear such piercing clearnesse.
Gas.

Mark his postures, he'l kisse her shoo-strings.

Rub.

Nay, eat the Rushes she treads on: look how Pythagorically he gapes? he's turn'd Astronomer!

Gas.

Have you measured the length of hen physnomy, or taken the height of her forehead yet?

Rub.

But Master, you must salute her.

Prae.

Divine, ambiguous, and transparent creature, I salute you with this b—b—bus: my complements were not cut out according to the garb of the time; but my words are sufficient interpreters of my inter­nall affections, and so sweet-heart I love you by this b—b—bus.

Var.

A little of this, Sir, is sufficient.

Prae.

Nay! thou shalt have thy belly full of it, my little Duck.

Gas.

I never heard of a belly full of kisses before.

Prae.

Lend me your hand to feed on!

Rub.

Beware, Mistress, he eat it not, he is sharp set I assure you, he had nothing but an Eringo root and a clove of Garlick for his colla­tion.

Alo.
[Page 5]

Sir, Praepontio, My Necce deserves none of these complement.

Prae:

How, Sir? you are her Uncle, and so your tongue is privileged; but if another had presum'd to speak so prophane a syllable upon her merit, mark me, if thunder-thumping Jove had said it, mark me, I would have pulled him by the fore-top, or lug'd him by the ears.

Alo.

I doubt not of your valour; but my businesse Urges my hast.

Prae.

And so doth mine.

(He untrusses himself.)
Rub.

He's ready to bewray himselfe.

Alo.

Say, will your Uncle make her a Joynture?

Prae.

Will he? A man of your reverend complexion to demand that question? Will he? He shall, in spite of his nose, old dotard! or else I would, as we say in Italian, prove him, Al stulti loco, that is to say, wholly a fool: But he has done it already, Sir, Look here, Sir.

(Pulls out a sealed parchment.)
Alo.
Why then we will contract you.
You are content, Varina, to have this Gentleman.
Var.

Since you command it.

Alo.

You'll use her kindly, Sir.

Prae.

Curse upon this magnificent corpse else; she shall have her Moletto's in green Jackets to stoop to her, when she pleases to per­fume the aire with her odoriferous countenance; and her Negro's to lay their heads for her to tread on.

Rub.

And if you, Master, be not able for night work, and so forth, send for me, I can do that.

Alo.

Well, I'll trust you with her: Gaspar, let's go.

Prae.
Farewell.
Exeunt Alo. and Gasp.
Come Gentlewoman, me thinks I am as lusty as Nestor in his second Age.
Rub.

You may believe him, Mistress.

Prae.

It seems to me that your beauty operates with my body, as the Sun with the year; which makes the year throw off its russet mantle, and becoming young, to take on its green coat: Now methinkes my bones, frozen with Age, are dissolved, and distill into my Cod­peece.

Rub.

These words are in you, as the Primrose in the midst of Win­ter, but the Primrose stinketh not so bad as your breath.

Prae.

Now my former vigours return to my vitals; Atlas was but a weak Boy, which could not scarce beare up that with his Shoulders, which with my little finger I am able to sustain: Now could I with a kick of my heele, strike a Lane through the Alps, and so make an in-road for dusky Neptune, I tell thee my sweeting, Adonis, when he was beloved of Venus, was not so beautifull as I am. Troth thou art supereminently beautifull too: Jove would think it no disparagement to be a Cuckow, a Swan, a Bull, on any thing, to enjoy the beatitude of thy sweet society; Great Hercules would to schoole, and learn to spin again for thy enjoyment, In briefe, Lady, I love you.

Var.
[Page 6]

In brief Sir, though my Uncle pleas to think me worthy of no bet­ter a spouse then your ridiculous self, in serious terms I cannot affect you it is not the quaintness of your language that can charm me. If Cu­pid have no more powerful darts then what drops from your tongue, he can wound but little. Sir, it will argue your prudence to desist from this your enterprise, for my part I had rather be of the society of Danaus daughters, and torment me in the abissive Hogsheads, then be your bed­fellow. But we poore Orphans being shuffled out of our own estates, must be disposed of at the pleasure of our Guardians, even to any one. But, Sir, in short, I shall esteem more highly of a wise man in his shirt, then of a foole in his richest Trappings: and for my own part, I can­not love you.

Rub.

Never marry her then, Master: for if you doe, you may chance be a kinsman to the great Turk, and blazon the Horns for your Arms.

Prae.

You doe but jest, you speak not heartily?

Var.

You'l finde I am in earnest. Farewell, you know my reso­lution.

Exit.
Prae.

O Rubio, call her back.

Rub.

Will she come when I call her?

Prae.

Conjure her then.

Rub.

I am no Negromancer, I never studied the black Art in all my life: But d'you hear Dona Varina I call you, I conjure you to come unto my Master Don Praepontio. Sure, Master, she's no Devill, for if she were, she would have risen at my conjuration.

Prae.

But what shall we doe to get her?

Rub.

Faith, Sir, you and I and half a dozen more good fellows will rifle for her, you shall have Dice will run nothing but sixes.

Exeunt.

Scena secunda.

Enter Varina sola.
THis doting Don thinks that his years have made
Him wise, in fishing with a golden bait,
And doth presume his gold hath power so farre
For renovation of his aged Corps,
As had Medea's inchanting spels to Aeson:
He thinks that womens aims are fixt on lands,
And that they frame their love on Silver-mines.
Treasure's no loadstone for a maids affection.
Alas! He doth mistake our Sex in this,
Though Gold be welcome to enrich our train,
Yet not so far as that we should neglect
The chief of all, the person of a man:
Should we permit the flowers of our youth
Thus to be nipt by Ages snowy Winter,
And so bereave our selves of all those joyes
Which Nature hath conferred on our Sex,
[Page 7]While blooming in our youth, for earth and dirt?
No! 'tis not so, this is my resolution;
Gold with a Man is good, but if I chuse,
I'll take the Man, and will the Gold refuse.
Exit.

Scena tertia.

Enter Roderiguez solus.
VNhappy eye! which didst attract those beams,
To set my heart on fire! Unhappy eare!
Which didst with such a greedinesse suck in
The charmings of her lips! and then convey
Them through thy winding palace to my brain,
Which works and beats, as if the Cyclops held
Their Forge within my head: Unhappy man!
Thus to become a slave unto thy passion!
Confine these love-sick thoughts, or drive them out,
Lodge not such enemies within thy breast,
They'l be thy ruine! But (alas!) my power
Is transmigrated to anothers breast;
Yet would it were, so might I hope at length
My love might crowned be with good successe.
Dry up thy eyes.
Enter Chaves.
Cha.
Good morrow to you, Sir!
What passion hath surpriz'd you, that you seem
Another man? Eugenia's well, I hope.
Discover, friend, what strikes thee in these dumps;
Your eye betrayes you, somewhat is amisse,
Prithee what is't?
Rod.
Chaves, thou art my friend,
And 'twere a sin not to impart it to thee.
Here lately was a Lady, which my eye
No sooner did discover, but my heart
Was all involv'd in flames, a sudden ague
Seiz'd upon all my limbs, that to approach
Neerer, or speak I could not: in this extasie
I stood awhile unmoveable, till she
Quitted the place.
Cha.
What is she? ne're despair,
Have her thou shalt, though she were made of gold.
Rod.
Varina is her name, she's well endow'd
With all that Art or Nature can bestow;
That —
Cha.
Feed not thy self with these; prithee what is she?
Where lives she? Pray reveale it.
Rod.
Sir, her Father
Was a rich Merchant of this famous Citie,
[Page 8]Who dying in the Indies, left this his Orphan
Sole heir to his estate; which he bequeath'd
Unto Alonza's care; he hath betroth'd her
Unto a foolish Lord, one Don Praepontio,
Cha.
Expel these clouds of sorrow, wee'l make our wits
Outreach his wealth! Come! let us write a letter,
I'll have it safe convey'd; once get admittance,
And she's thine own.
Enter Varina.
Var.
Most sacred Goddesse, to whose sacred shrine
The greatest Kings, nay Jove himselfe hath bow'd,
Contain my passions, keep my sudden Love
Within the bounds of maiden modesty,
Sweet Roderiguez! now me thinks I see
Majesty couched in thy serene brow,
Upon thy tongue enthroniz'd Eloquence
Within thy looks Cupid in's best array;
And when thou goest, the humble ground doth sinke,
As if submissive to thy stately Port;
But Stay! my Passions, stay; let's pawse awhile,
My affections must not leade me in a maze;
Discretion doth advise that Pallas rule,
And Cupid serve; she will me best direct
To my terrene Elysium, Pause awhile,
Listen to Judgments dictates; they are best.
The Carthaginian Princess lost her life,
And credit too by her too quick affection;
Phillis confiding in Demophoöns vowes
Did lay her Bridall pallet in the grave:
Repentance soone made Oenoës angry tongue
Condemn the rash credulity of her eares.
And so may I Varina, if I yeeld
To Passions hair-brain'd, wild instructions:
Then set a bay unto thy loves swift Current;
See his affections first, and if he prove
Loving to thee, Varina, do thou Love.
See, see the Object of my best respect;
Oh! did my heart enjoy that happinesse
As doth that Gentleman, whose subject ears
Such musick entertain, as hovering spheares
Yeild in their proper motions, his breath
Falls on his shoulders as doth Zephyrus
On Flora's party color'd vestments, ah!
Why doe I languish thus? I'll speake to him,
It is as fit for maids to court, as men;
If that the truth were rightly scann'd; but nicenesse
And Custome do forbid it; its no sinne
[Page 9]If well we weigh it in its proper ballance;
Then set the better foot before, and try,
(She goes forward, but slies back)
Oh! what exploit began I to attempt?
What, casting off the weed of modesty
To cloath my self with impudence? O fie!
Should it be said, Varina did disrobe
Her selfe of grace, and virgin-purity,
And turned masculine, to court a stranger?
No! back, base Cupid! thy Rhet'rick I scorn
Now in my second rumination, 't may be
That time will quench this burning Aetna in me,
Or heav'ns inspire him for to know my love:
Grant one of these ye Gods, and pitie me,
Afford your help in this extremitie.
Exit.
Cha.

Be it so, I'll send the letter.

Rod.
I hold the mission of a letter best,
One line, one sentence with premeditation,
Quickens, doth bear a greater prevalence
Then words extemporary can expect:
Words are like infants, whose unwelcome birth
(If premature) bring death unto their mother.
Cha.

Let it be so. —

Rod.
It shall be so, Apollo guide my pen,
And let thy Heliconian Fountains yeeld
Liquor unto it, that the thing I write
May there prevail, where rests my souls delight.
Exeunt.

Scena quarta.

Enter Chaves and Picarro drawing.
PIc.
Come, come Sir, draw, or by this hand and sword
I'll be your Priest.
Cha.
Sure you mistake, I am not
The man you look for.
Pic.
You shall find, my eyes
Have their true object: Coward, prate not, draw,
Let s view thy weapon.
Cha.
Sir, your habit speaks you
A man, and noble, I admire your judgment
Should be so rash to quarrel with me, who
Ne're injur'd you, and to my knowledge, till
This time, ne're saw you.
Pic.
All your Rhetorick
Shall not excuse your carcasse, turn and fight,
Or perish.
Cha.
Tell me why, and then you'll find
I am no Coward.
Pic.
[Page 10]
Hear my reason, You
Have offred me an injury; I must not
Put up, while you do walk with that same nose:
Make hast and draw; Draw, or this slave shall beat
Courage into thee, Coward.
Cha.
Well, perforce
Since you will tempt a danger from my arm,
Receiv't.
Picarro falls.
So now, I hope, you'l yeeld the cause
Made you so valiant.
Enter Mariana.
Mar.
Stay, for pitie save
Picarro's life, take mine, as you're a man,
Bridle your fury.
Cha.

Doe I dream? who speak?

Mar.
A haplesse Virgin! let the prayers and tears
Of one that never sued before, redeem
His lifes dire forfeit: if you be so cruell,
That nought but blood will suit your anger, here
Sheath your bright weapon in my breast, my blood
Will sooner quench your irefull heat; kill me,
And let him live.
Cha.
Sure she has stoln from heav'n
An Angels utterance; had Ʋlysses heard
This Syren minurize, the mast had been
Too weak to hold him; Orpheus might have learnt
New notes to fit's harp; had a salvage Scythe,
Or untam'd [...]re, when manacled they drive
Whole flocks of men before them, on whose flesh
Death strait should riot, hear her speak, their fiercenesse
Would soon relent, they would forget the sweetnesse
Of their inhuman banquet, and let loose
Those they had markt for slaughter.
Mar.

Pray you Sir.

Cha.
Historians truly may relate how stones
Follow'd Amphion to the Theban walls;
How lofty Ossa and Banchaia danc'd
At overhearing the Odrysian Lyre;
That Dolphins at Arions Harp grew tame,
And coucht their scaly backs to beare him out
Of Neptunes foamy surges; likely 'tis
And possible, since one Accent from her lips
Can work far greater miracles, I would raise
A man that long had bedrid lain; nay, were he
Witherd with feeble age, should she smile on him
He well might laugh at sage Meden's charms:
Tell Aeson then, that her blest look had made him
Fuller of youthfull vigours, then the force
Of her inchanted hearbs infus'd into him.
Mar.

Then you wil save him? —

Cha.
[Page 11]
Look, how dark sorrow's beautified? how comely
She's in her tears? they sit upon her cheeks
Like Erythraean pearls enchas'd on grounds
Of true Vermilion: Foolish Lapidaries!
What need you borrow of the frozen Zone
Congealed Ice? catch these drops, they're more pretious
Then most transparent Crystall; I would fain
Grant thy request, but that I should too soon
Be exil'd from that blessing which your presence
Fully affoords me; yet 'tis too unholy
That she should kneel, I'll raise her.
Mar.
Here I'll lie.
(He offers to raise her.)
Prostrate for ever, lesse you please to save
Picarro's forfeit life.
Cha.
How happy, Heav'ns!
Is he in being vanquished, to have
So fair a saver? would my life had been
Put at his mercy: For your sake I'll grant
Him life on this condition, That he tell
What made him be my enemy.
Mar.
This morning
If I mistake not, passing by our coach
As we were coming from our Vineyard, you
Pull'd up the Curtains, drawn before, to see
Who were within, which he in heat of blood,
Took as a wrong, and followed you.
Cha.
I'm sorry
I was discourteous.
Mar.
Come Picarro, Signior,
I am your worths true servant.
Exeunt Mar. and Picarro.
Enter Roderiguez and Boy.
Rod.
How now Chaves?
What drawn so neer the Citie? pray heav'ns! my stay
Has not endanger'd you: met you with theeves?
Cha.
With one hath stoln my best of Jewels; Sir,
I am undone; lost friend for ever.
Rod.

Why?

Cha.

Look I not strangely o're I did? My looks —

Rod.

Why? What should aile you? Are you frighted, Sir?

Cha.

Doe not my eyes speak my hearts falshood? Ha!

Rod.

Chaves, dear friend, how fare you? Is all well?

Cha.
I prithee be my Priest, and sacrifice
My treacherous carcasse to Eugenia, doe it,
And when I yeeld the Ghost, I'll tell thee friend,
That I fare well: ne're stare on me, my life
Is a worse torture then the rack, or wheele,
Ixions plague is but a play-game to't
Nor his that rolls the revoluble stone,
Nor that of proud Prometheus, on whose heart,
[Page 12]Th'insulting Vulture preyes.
Rod.
Alas! he raves!
What cursed Friend tempts you to be thus desperate?
Cha.
Desperate? Kill me, let thy Rapier doe it,
Ne're muse upon it, I deserve to die:
Do justice on me.
Rod.
Tell me why, and then
Perchance I'll do it.
Cha.
Hear me then, Suppose
I had a beauteous sister, you Roderiguez
Should vow her service, proffer her your love,
Get my consent, her fathers, and her heart too,
And aster fool both him and her, and me.
Should I not kill you, think you?
Rod.

Yes, I deserv'd it.

Cha.
Then here's my sword, I've done all this and more,
The vow's I made to your Eugenia's nothing,
A dream, an airy shadow, you are fool'd,
Your father's cousned by my hopes; 'tis true,
I love another.
Rod.
'Tis impossible;
Your fury makes you utter this.
Cha.
By the hopes
I have that thou wilt kill me, I have spoke
No more but truth, by all that's good I have not:
I love another. —
I stole her countenance, but she my heart.
Rod
You're a treacherous man,
Base and unworthy, take your weapon back,
Defend your selfe.
Cha.
I will not, I confesse
I have deserv'd death, but it grieves me, that
By thy hands I must suffer; but my fate
Is irresistable: Dispatch me.
Rod.
Stay,
E're I doe kill thee, think how ominous
Thy crime is: young men will abhor thee, virgins
Hearing thy fault, will with their imprecations
Heap tortures on thee: Poore Eugenia! Sister!
I grieve for thee most: Are you ready?
Cha.
Yes!
Not to resist, but to be sacrific'd.
Rod.
I'll not become his Butcher: for the name
Of Friend, so often vowd between us, holds
My arms, I cannot strike him; live to see
Heav'n work thy ruine: I'll not be thy Priest.
Farwell, false man, and look who e're thou wed,
Shee'l be a faithless strumpet to thy bed!
Cha.
Thou lyest, return, I'll fight: —
[Page 13]She, I now love, is one, thou oughtst not mention
Less on thy knees with reverence: one, whose looks
Would e'en allure a Hermit, who had spent
His years in solitude, to leave his Cell,
And heav'nly contemplations, to admire
Her perfect essence, dar'st thou prophecy
Her for a strumpet? wert thou arm'd with thunder
This arm should reach thee, Clouds of lightning shal not
Secure thee: Know Sir, she is one, whom Angels
Would to enjoy, desert their bliss, and vote
No less then adoration due unto
Her heav'nly vertues —
Rod.
Hee's past hopes! more sisters
I have, more friends so worthy as himself
I ne're can hope for: Sir, I pitty you
And can my service help you ought in gaining
Your Love, command it.
Cha.

Mean'st thou thus?

Rod.
You use not
To finde me faithless: not my sisters wrong
Shall make me prove disloyall: may I know her
Is your new Mistriss?
Cha.
There's my misery,
I know her notmy self, but 'tis the same
Was in the Coach we overtook.
Rod.
Is't she?
That's Mariana, Daughter to Alonzo
The Indian Merchant, I am well acquainted
With Garspar, noble Chaves: he, who is
Her Fathers Cash-keeper, him wee'll use as means
To win her for you: Our Varina lives
In the same house: come! let's about it.
Cha.
Heav'ns prosper our designes, and may our fate
Make us in them, them in us fortunate.
Exeunt.

Scaena quinta.

Enter Varina Sola.
THose Sulphurous flames, which Aetna's fiery panch
Assidually into the air doth vomit,
Bear not such force as doth this Paphian fire:
Unconstant supposition never taught me
This instant lesson, but experience:
That poyson'd token in the Centaures blood,
Which made Alcides burn in living flames,
Had not such vigour, as these parching fires:
Which, while I fan with sighs, and think by groans
To puff them out; the more (alas) they flame:
If not extinguisht by some timely showers
My heart must turn an Aethiop: Come! sweet Boy!
Enter Boy
[Page 14]
And sing à Lachrymae unto my woes
A mournfull Lachrymae, that from my eyes
Whole Seas of brinish liquor may arise
To drench this heat; I cannot now admire
That Cupids Father was the God of Fire.
Boy sings.
1.
Sweet Cupid hear
A Maiden vow;
Though thou art blind, thou hast an ear;
Let him, whom I love, know
What pain and smart
Lies burning in my heart,
To this my humble boon dispence
Thy sacred influence;
And (though to cure thy eyes:)
Let not a Virgin full thy Sacrifice.
2.
Sweet Venus, see,
And make me blest
Visit me in this misery,
Connive at my request:
Assist thy Son
Till he hath done.
His mystick rites, and with new fires
Fulfill a Maids desires:
Else here I'll prostrate lie
For ever, and will Swan-like, singing die.
3.
Lendme a quill, &c.
Var.
Enough! this yeilds but nutrimental food
Unto my dumpish humours; go, begon,
Exit Boy
Poor soul! how art thou tortur'd in distraction,
And discompos'd in various resolutions:
Sometimes to speak is countenanc'd as good;
But modesty steps in, and checks my impudence:
Then silence is thought best, but that would wrong
That noble Person that deserves my Love:
Thus while I practise for to quench the fire,
I doe increase it, and it flames the higher.
Enter Thomaso (Chave's man)
Tho.
Save you, sweet Mistriss, th' noble Roderiguez
Desires but so much favour at your hands
As to peruse this his most humble missive.
Var.

He may command a greater thing then this.

(She reads it)
Tho.
I hope the Heavens do prosper our Atchievements;
Her countenance warrants a good acceptande.
Var.
You may for this time depart, and tell your Master,
That matters of such weight, desire some pawse:
Before we make an answer: Friend, too morrow
[Page 15]About this time you may expect it here:
Tho.
All humble thanks, sweet Lady: at that time
I shall attend your pleasure: all sweet happiness
That can be wisht, attend you.
Exit.
Var.
Friend! Farewell!
See how my storm is turn'd into a calm,
My clouded night into a sun-shine day,
My heart but now deprest almost to death,
Revives, and growes too ample for my breast,
My fears are banisht, and my joyes become
Redundant and superlative: to you
O heavens! my duty doth return her thanks!
And testifies it by her gratefull hands.
(holds them up to heaven.)
He, for whose sake I would exchange the world,
Now throwes himself a servant at my feet:
But let me guide me in my bliss, and wear
My fortunes wisely in a formall fashion:
I must not countenance his suit too soon,
But bridling up my Love with judgements reynes:
Keep at a distance, counterfeit my minde
To be so far estrang'd from Venus Court,
That 'twere as hard to make a Proselite,
As me a Souldier in the Paphian field:
Should I be prone and facile to his will,
In some few days my kindness would grow stale:
The shadow, when pursued doth fly, but turn
Your back, and it in duty followes you:
Should I concede too soon, and not deny,
I should infringe the custom of us maids,
Who in the things we most of all desire,
Must feigne neglect, or else a meer dislike:
Well then, how e're I'll play a maidens part,
And make me stubborn, though I breake my heart.
Exit.

Scaena Sexta.

Enter Gaspar, Mariana, Catalina.
Gasp.
FAith! you're a cunning Lover, I had thought
I had deserv'd more interest in your trust,
Then that you thus should steal your nuptials, and
Ne'r let me know on't, where's my gloves?
Mar.
Why Gaspar?
Why should'st thou think I should be married?
Gas.
Cause
I know 'tis truth; your Father has disclosed
The party to me.
Mar.
Party? prithee speak;
And do not rest; what's that thou prat'st of? husband?
[Page 16]And Hymenaean rites?
Gas.

As if you knew not!

Mar.

Not I truly.

Gas.
Nor shall you know it then for me, I might
Incurre much danger, should I be but seen
To kisse your hand thus, discourse with you, in brief
'Tis to the jealousest, most ignoble man
In all the City: so farewell, there's all
That I dare stay to tell you.
Cata.

Blesse you, Mistress.

Mar.
Cousin, good cousin, leave me not, before
You have explain'd this riddle, on my life
I'll not disclose you told me.
Gas.
May I trust you?
Mark then your fate, Your father hath decreed
You for Don Balthasar old Frederiques heire,
They are agreed.
Mar.
Save me Saints, I'd rather
Be wedded to a Leaper; one halfe bedrid,
Laden with gout, and all diseases, would not
Be halfe so odious to me: is't not he
That should have had Varina?
Gas.

Th' same.

Mar.
Sweet Gaspar,
Make some obstructions, and doe thou, sweet Jove,
Be an impediment to that decree.
Gas.
Cousin, alas! I have quite wearied him
With my petitions, but he's deafe as Nereus
Is to the shipwrackt Mariners, or rocks
Unto the bellowing surges of the Sea.
Mar.
Thou hast been always honest, Gaspar, and
A Friend, a Father to me: in this strait
I'll try thy love; advise which way I shall
Escape these nuptials; say, is't possible?
Gas.
I shall be proud to doe that office, Kings
Would glory in; to doe you service, Saints
Would sure disert their blisse: Do you but speak,
Breath but one accent from those lips, the winds
Will all contend, which shall be first made blest
With its conveyance; your sweet voyce can charm
The Syrens silent, force the Crocodile
To leave his feigned weeping; at your looks
Palms would renew their freshnesse; aged hearts
Grow young again, Scythians be mild; if ever
Rash Phaetons sisters had beheld those drops,
They never more would boast their Amber tears
To be more pretious.
Mar.
Push! you flatter me!
[Page 17]What means this ceremony?
Gas.
And had those creatures
Book-blinded men, that dream of other worlds,
Tell of Elysian blessings, known the joyes
Are in your love, they would have lost themselves,
As I have done, in contemplation
Of this surpassing happinesse, you blesse
With its enjoying.
Mar.
You are tedious, tell me
How to evade this mischiefe.
Gas.
Pradon me,
I'm in a labyrinth, subtler then the cave
That held the Cretan Minotaure; 'tis easier
To catch wild Boreas, make Neptune calm
When he most rageth, then to give your worth
Its just Encomiums. I'm so farre transported
With rumination on't beyond my selfe,
That I have quite forgot your first demand.
Mar.
Pray tell me Cousin, How may I delude
Balthasars nuptials?
Gas.
'Tis difficult,
There is but one way left, and that's to wed
Another, e're you come unto his bed.
Mar.
Faith! any body, honest Gaspar, bring
Some aged Lazar from the Hospitall,
Or towing Galliego, and I'll love
Him rather then the other, let me see
Whom thou wouldst wish me to.
Gas.
An honest man,
One I dare swear that loves you.
Mar.
Nominate him:
By all that's good, I'll love him.
Gas.
She's my own.
I'll take you at your word —
(aside.)
Behold the man, the true Idolater
Of thy perfections, one whose every thought
Is on thy vertues, how to give them reverence
Due to their merits.
Mar.
This is brave, proceed,
You're Courtly grown, what spirit has infus'd
This unaccustom'd phrase into you?
Gas.
Your
Love which hath power to give a dumb man utt'rance,
Make Ideots Orators to fill the world
With new inventions; consecrate this Age
Onely to Poets, whose immortall lines
May celebrate thy praises. Though thy Father
Could be so perjur'd after a thousand oaths,
[Page 18]To seek to rob me of my interest in thee,
Yet the known goodnesse of thy Nature tells me,
Thou'lt not be perjur'd too, I'm sure thou'lt love me.
Mar.
Reason good, base man!
Did all this painted processe tend to this?
Were Balthasar a man compos'd of vices,
Il'd sooner cast my self away on him,
Then on thy basenesse: Loving'Coz. farewell!
You may go meditate to get a wife,
And ruminate on your most base desires
In the Grand- Placa. Walk, Sir.
Exeunt Mar. and Cat.
Gas.
Is there no thunder left in heav'n? Has earth
Left all it's fear, it shakes not at the hearing
Of such inhuman perjuries, untill
It have a rupture vast enough to swallow
At once the world, that it may ne're produce
Again such treach'rous animals, as my fate,
My cursed fate torments me with: I am
A proper man, I've limbs enough▪ because
I have a blemish in my blood, my Mistress
Rejects me; Thus should I in open Court
Sue for her as my wife: I have no means
To stand against her Father, and 'tis gold
That rules the Law now. Well! since all will be
Villains, why should I practise honesty?
I've brains as well as other men, my spirit
Tells me, there's means to right the wrong. Who's this?
Enter Roderiguez.
Rod.

Gaspar? the man I look't for.

Gas.
Don Roderiguez!
What drew you hither?
Rod.
Sir, my businesse is
Now with your selfe; Your Master has a daughter
I have a most deserving friend affects
Her dearly, wilt thou be a means to gain
Her favour for him?
Gas.
I did take you Sir,
T'have been a person of more reall worth
Then thus t'assay a servants loyalty;
Think you my Masters daughter shall become
A prostitute? If this be all your businesse,
I must not stay to hear it.
Rod.
Thou mistak'st,
I have no such intention, thou shalt raise
His daughter with a marrige to a man
Of noble Blood and Fortunes.
Gas.
But her Father
Has promis'd her to one he will not break with.
[Page 19]You cannot have her.
Rod.
Hold! there's gold, thou shalt
(Gives him money.)
Perswade her love my friend, I know thou canst,
My honest Gaspar.—
Gas.
Sir,
I am a man whom stepdame Fortune made
To eat my bread in servitude, my Master
Is all the hopes I live by, and my trust
Hath gain'd me some respect above a servant;
Should I undoe his purpose, crosse this match,
For your sakes, I should win the execrations
Of all true servants; and perchance your selves
Seeing me false to him, would fear t'impose
Confidence in me: pray receive your gold,
I must not do it.
Rod.
Come! thou shalt, the man
Thou dost it for will raise thee farre beyond
Thy expectation, Gaspar.
Gas.

May I trust you?

Rod.
What needs these doubts?
Gas.
Then know my Mistress hates
The person whom her Father would bestow
Her on in marriage; would your friend, or you,
Or any one, there's in the Citie you may hire
To kill him, then admission will be easie.
Rod.

Most excellent! his name? he's seal'd for death.

Gas.
Balthazar, Frederiques heire, to morrow night
Your friend and you come to the window, and
Bring somthing that may please her, and ne're doubt
You shall have gentle audience.
Rod.

I'll about it.

Exit.
Gas.
Doe, on your shoulders I my selfe will rise
To quit my Masters monstrous perjuries.
Exit.

ACT. 2.

SCENE 1.

Enter Varina sola.
THus have I fram'd, though long first, my rescript,
As well as th' poor Minerva of my brain
Enabled me; 'tis tart enough, I'm sure,
To vulnerate and pierce a heart of steel:
If his affection's byassed with vertue,
He'l re-addresse to me to work the cure,
What Pelias wounded, it alone could heal;
The limb that's burnt we hold unto the fire,
Loves wounds must have their Balsam from that hand
[Page 20]That made the Ulcer. Stay! th'Times Clock doth prompt me
This houre Thomaso promis'd to be here,
To bear my answer back. He comes: Your actions
Enter Thomas
Are comments to your words, and what your tongue
Of late exprest, your diligence performs.
Tho.
Right worthy Lady, should I vilifie
My faith by misperformance, I should think
My selfe degenerate from what I was.
Var.

Your words engage my faith; friend, there's my answer.

Tho.
Thanks worthy Lady, this shall surely have
Acceptance far more gracious from your servant,
Then such a Jewell which th' Aegyptian Queen
(To add a complement to sumptuousness)
Dissolved drank unto her Anthony.
Var.
Then beare it to him instant, it may be
His expectation may be harrass'd out:
For what desire commands us to expect,
Time, if protracted, maketh us disgust;
Haste therefore, and farewell.
Exit.
Tho.
Adieu! sweet Lady!
Now if this Letter bear a gentle sense,
And gives a Fiat to Rod'riguez suit,
His heart will mount so high with joy, that it
Enter Roderiguez.
Outstrips imagination. Noble Sir —
Rod.
What newes Thomaso? come and glut my ears
With comfortable tidings.
Tho.
Whether such
As you expect, Sir, or the contrary,
Resides not in the confines of my knowledge.
Rod.

Spake you not with her at the time prefixt?

Tho.

Yes! and her mind salutes you in this paper.

Rod.

Came this from her?

Tho.

I had it from her hands.

Rod.
Hadst thou encompast all this Universe,
Especially the East and Western India,
And ransackt either of them for their pearls:
Or hadst thou ript the bowels of the earth,
And laid her hidden treasure at my feet,
It could not have procur'd the hundredth part
Of that content, as doth this piece of paper.
Tho.
Still may't be multiplyed, and augment
Your wisht beatitude a thousand fold.
(He reads it.)
Rod.
What have we here? A slat deniall? Ha?
Hard-hearted Lady! hadst thou spectacles
Which might so help thy optitick faculties,
As to behold my bleeding heart, thou couldst not
[Page 21]Choose but relent, and love me for my love.
Tho.

Patience, noble Sir —

Rod.
Tis cruelty! alas sh'ad courteous been
Had she procur'd my death, or my proscription:
But thus to charact'rize my torments, and
To dally with my flames, doth argue she
Studies the Art of inhumanity.
Tho.
Let not such thoughts finde harbour in your breast,
Exile them thence.
Rod.
They took possession:
And cannot easily be extruded thence.
Tho.
Why then encounter her your self, and speak:
Let not a Letter daunt you, storm again:
Your parts do speak you man, and you may win her:
It may be she observes formality,
In these her actions: and for fashion sake
Her tongue saies no (as maidens use to do)
When as her minde thinks yea: good Sir, about it.
Tho.
Thy Councel's prevalent, and I'll observe,
Next time I'll try her: and my reasons shall
Triumph victorious, or in th'Duell fall.
Exeunt.

Scena secunda.

Enter Hebes Solus.

OH! my decaied panch! is't not a miserable case that a mans belly should ne're see a piece of roast beef, nor ones guts feel one drop of double drink in two years? There's one Mr. Want, a lean Gentleman of our Parish, hath so debarred me from sustenance, that I scarce weigh threescore on each side, besides feet, head, leggs, and offall. There's an old shaver they call Don Praepontio, that lives hereabouts, that maintains his men every day in holyday bellies, and their chaps strut, as if they were created for nothing but to blow bagpipes: now, if I could scrue into his service, my spiny Car­cass would begin to whine as a dog after flesh, when his chaps run over. But soft, sure this is he.

Enter Praepontio & Rubio.
Heb.

I'll make as if I knew him not, and praise him to's very face, and then I'll warrant you.

Prae.

Thus perambulating all alone, I ruminate on the multiplicity of those joyes, that my Varina might afford me.

Heb.

Save thee honest friend.

Prae.

Why? what art thou?

Heb.

What am I? Thou seest I am neither horse nor mare, bull nor cow, hog nor pig, dog nor rat, mouse nor cat, fish nor flesh, nor good red herring: but as I may say, a meere man.

Prae.
[Page 22]

My Mistriss will be well taken, Rubio, to hear this fellow talk; but say, art a meer man, canst thou keep thy money, and not grease the ale-wifes fingers with it?

Heb.

How? grease the ale-wifes fingers with it; nay I should prove a very fool then: for she might then grease my face with her talons, for not paying my reck'ning.

Prae.

Well spoken of a fool.

Heb.

I, by my faith, Master, was it.

Prae.

I mean, canst thou keep thy money from spending?

Heb.

I, Master, if I had it.

Prae.

Wilt thou live with me?

Heb.

I, Sir, an't please you, I'm dissolved on that point already.

Prae.

Go, stand at the Curtains, and seal your lips. Didst thou invite her, Rubio? you must wait very attentively at her elbow, and if perchance a drop fall from her mouth, you must be sure to catch it, I'll have it put in a reliquary: but does not my great ruff become me admirably? will she not like me, thinkst thou, in this suit? I will coyne words shall make her in love with me.

Rub.

You will bewitch her with your very looks, ne're doubt it; you look now more compleatly then the great Mogull, or the Arch-Duke.

Prae.

I have a Lions Countenance.

Rub.

Nay, a Bears rather, or a Baboons, you look so smug on't, Master.

Prae.

But didst thou see what an admirable piece of Poetry I con­sarcinated in my bed; nay, in my sleep, Rubio?

Rub.

Some drowsie Poem.

Prae.

Ovid de Arte Amandi was never like it: Hold my Cloke Ru­bio, doe you see?

Rub.

I see your back-side, Sir.

Prae.

But mark my Verses, how melodiously they run upon their feet.

Rub.

They gallop.

Prae.

Mark. Hem—hem—hem.

If you would old Natures wonder
See, list while I her praise out-thunder:
Her head a Cedar over-growes,
Her rosie Cheeks, and radiant Nose,
Her hands Lillies, for eyes behold
Amber or Barbary Gold:
From her middle to her knees,
Guesse what monstrous rarities
Lye hid: the Tropick Zone cannot
Burn, or cast forth flames so hot,
As does my heart, 'tis she must heale me,
Or Death will with his paws bemeale me.

[Page 23]How lik'st thou it?

Rub.

Horribly, beyond expression.

Prae.

I wil write a whole volume of such Elegies, and put down Lope de vega, or Gacilasso's Poems.

Rub.

You must get tunes to them, they will passe for excellent new Ballads.

Prae.

O! my Uncle!

Alv.

O! my wise kinsman, what sayes your Mistress?

Prae.

O Uncle! she is the noblest, wittiest woman that ever I en­countred with since I gallopt or'e the Alps; she surpasses me in inge­niosity for all my travels.

Rub.

And my Master, God blesse his worships Coxcomb, told her, you would give her Holland Cheese, Parmasane, and Calves-head to breakfast if she would have him.

Prae.

Nay, Uncle, she askt me if you would give her your land at Granada.

Alv.

And what didst thou answer?

Prae.

Peace, sirrah, Uncle, aspect my judgement in being responsible: I sayd, I, that he will, if I thought the old dotard would not, I would dash out his brains.

Alv.

Thank you Nephew! How then?

Prae.

For, quoth I, although he were hang'd, or drownd, or dead a­ny way, though the Divel should carry him away in a Harricane, I should have his land, being as I am, eldest son to his eldest sister; is't not so Uncle? I know my Pedigree.

Rub.

Master, you need no Herald to blaze your worth, you can doe it sufficiently your selfe.

Prae.

True! very true; but Uncle, shall I dance with my Mistress anon, I long to meet her in a measure, I can so caper it.

Enter Alonzo, Varina, and Servant.
Alv.

Here comes your Mistress, and her Uncle.

Prae.

Pray let me accost them.

Alv.

Welcome noble friends.

Prae.

For your part, Sir, à posteriore I salute you thus; and your Sir, thus, with this Italian Frisco: But as for you, my superabundant Mi­stress, accept the Foet [...] of my Minerva for your congratulatory wel­come.

Var.

'Tis pitie, servant, you are not pictur'd with a Laurell wreath in your forehead.

Rub.

Or rather with a Coxcombs Crest, Mistress.

( Aside.
Prae.

But my most inestimable Mistress, I must dictate to you, That you vilifie my brains fecundity, in not applauding my ingenious con­ceptions, since sure you love me.

Rub.

Better then she loves Plum-porredge, or Minc't-pyes, I dare protest.

Prae.

Tell me then, thou Master-piece of Nature.

Rub.

Mistress-piece, Sir, she is a woman.

Prae.

Does not the superficies of my countenance demonstrate as [Page 24]much love as Don Quixot's, or Gerardo's, the unfortunate and ominous Spaniard? am not I kin to the Family of the Guzmans, think you?

Rub.

Alias, Goosman; alias, Goodman Goose.

(aside.)
Prae.

And am I not the most acute, compleat, polite Itinerator that ever caper'd over the Alps, and the Pyrenaean mountains, and the most sublime and ingenious Poet that ever drank of the Heliconian, Castali­an, and Pierian Fountains: Have not I sixteen languages exactly, per­fectly, and perspicuously.

Rub.

Sixscore, Master.

Prae.

Come, my supereminent Mistress, let us expatiate to refresh our palats with our delicious banquets, the minc't pies, and the Plum­pudding which my English Cook made me, will be cold else. Come, sirrah, follow.

Exeunt.
Heb.

Now my sweet guts and garbege, my Fathers old Boots were never so liquor'd and greas'd as you shall be.

Exit.

Scaena tertia.

Enter Chaves, Roderiguez, and Boy.
Cha.

HAst thou the Song? Boy?

Boy.

Yes, Sir.

Cha.

Are the Musitians ready?

Boy.

They expect behind you pillar.

Cha.

But art thou sure this is her window?

Rod.

The same, ne're feare, we shall have audience.

Boy sings.
1
Hail Mariana! let thine eyes
From their sable Clouds arise,
And dart their fire
(At our desire)
To re-illuminate the skies.
2
The Moon is down, the Stars doe hide]
Their lustre, and our zeal deride,
Ʋnveil thy beams,
Those goldenst eams
Will vye them in their greatest pride.
3
Shine forth sweet light! one gentle ray
Will drive, our dismall night away;
And make us deem
Sol mounts his Team;
Our zeal shall swear 'tis break of day.
4
Let us, sweet Saint, thy vertues know,
How great a brightnesse they can show,
Tell us the Sun
Is backward run,
And that he hath reverst his Plough.
5
Shine out sweet Venus, thou canst soon
Transcend the Taper of the Moon,
[Page 25] And with thy light
Quicken the night,
Turning our Morning into Noon.
6.
Hail! Mariana, cast an eye
With a relenting sympathy;
Ʋnvail the books
Of thy sweet looks,
And let me read my Destinie.
Rod.

So now depart, and charge the Musitians they say nothing.

Boy.

I will Signior.

Exit.
Rod.

The window is opened, friend, list who speaks.

Mariana and Catalina, out at the window
Mar.
I marvail, Catalina, who bestowed
This Musick on us; it was good and sweet.
Cat.
Some one, that dog'd you home from Alvarado's,
Some Amorado.
Rod.

Speak Sir, now or never.

Cha.
All peace content and joy attend you Ladies.
Mar.
What man art thou, that when Nights Curtain's drawn,
And with her sable mantle vails the skies,
Dar'st venture on our secrets?
Cha,
One, you promis'd
When for your sake I sav'd Picarro's life,
To keep in memory.
Mar.
Sir, if you are he,
I am obliged, I confess, to honour
Your nobleness, but these untimely houres
Admit no conference: for your Musick, Sir,
We give you thanks; so much I love you, that
I'll not endanger you, if you be seen,
You run your lifes dire hazard, Sir, good night,
Fair thoughts attend you.
Cha.
Stay! for Loves sake, were there
Dangers as thick here, as there's stars above us,
I would contemn them all; if death it self
Should here incounter me, l'ld scorn the fury:
Tell him his hand had here no power; your presence
Makes men immortall.
Mar.
Cause you shall not, Sir,
Condemn me of discourtesie; I'll stay,
But to your purpose, let me know it briefly;
Or I must be unmannerly.
Cha.
Why then,
In brief I love you, and desire your love.
Mar.
And is this all, good night! —
Cat.
Hear him out, Mistress, he's an honest Gentleman,
I know by's words;
Cha.
My zeal could tell you, Lady,
That your are fair; you know it; that your eyes
[Page 26]Clothe night in days robes, and eclipse the stars
With their bright lustre; that you are the modell
Of Natures artifice, her true Idea,
In whose brow Art and Beauty wedded meet,
But these, dear Mariana, and the like
Pedantick terms, I leave to those whose loves
Are in their lips; I'll be as plain in speech,
As zealous in respects; my deeds shall speak
My Love no Changeling
Mar.
But I cannot, Sir,
Nor must not love you many one would feed
Your flames with frustrate species to deride
Your passions, but I do carty with me
More honest thoughts: as you have been, I'll be
Brief: save your labour Signior, they are fruitless,
You sing to th' deaf, and plough the sandy shore,
I must not love you.
Cha.
I'm oblig'd to you!
'Tis well and nobly done to put an end
To my hot tortures, view this blade, the same
Which for your sake I did restrain from shedding
Picarro's blood for better ends; shall now
(goes to stab himself.)
In bloody Characters write me thy Martyr.
Rod.
Hold! hold! for heav'ns sake; hold! —
What mean you Chaves?
Cha.
Nothing, but to open
A vein that's stopt; 'tis good for me to bleed:
My sword will be a good Phlebotomist,
I'm sick of th' Plurisy; a burning feaver!
'Tis better once to die, then thus to live
In lingring flames; and piece-meal crumble: ha!
Be thou my friend; and since my Life cannot,
Let death now make me pittied: Let me die!
Mar.
You're a faint hearted Soldier; what dasht
At first repulse? admit I could afford
You heart-room in my breast: you might well think
Me very light, should I at once be wonn
Without experience of your Loyalty:
Besides, our Countries use permits not Children
To choose their husbands: 'Tis my Fathers care,
Get his consent, and peradventure I
May yeild to love you.
Cat.
Do sweet Mistress, he's
A very honest man: I'd take his word.
Cha.
Look! how the enamour'd air hangs o're her lips
To suck a blessing from them? I can think
Now 'twas no fable, that bold Boreas
Rapt fair Orithya, since I see him haste
To ravish thee of that too pretious breath,
[Page 27]Thy words expire with; it will make his own
Sweeter then Syrian winds, when nought but Myrrhe
And Bysse perfume them.
Mar.
You're too hasty Sir.
It is impossible that I should love you,
I am contracted.
Cha.
Yet 'tis in your power
To love your servant.
Mar.
If Anatomists
Tell truth, that say, I'th' Center of our hearts
There is a little Concave, where resides,
Our best affections; then your Augury
Must needs be truth, for all the love lies there,
Is to anothers worth engag'd.
Cha.
Make me
But of your privy Councell, pray reveal him.
Mar.
Then know, since first I saw you, I have been
(The night will hide my blushing to your face)
A true devotarist to your lovely vertues;
Deride me not, dear Signior.
Cha.
I am
Ravisht beyond my hopes, my heart's too narrow,
Too strait-lac'd for th'exuberance of my joy.
Enter Balthasar.
Balt.
This is the house: now Gaspar I shall see
Thy truth, I heare some mutt'ring. —
Mar.

Walk round the house, my maid shall let you in.

Bal.
'Tis she, I hear her voyce, and here he comes.
Sir, stay, you must not passe so.
Rod.
What art thou?
That thus presum'st to over-hear our secrets,
And rashly tempt thy death.
Bal.
I am a man,
Thy equall every way.
Rod.

About your businesse,

Cha.

Sirrah, be packing, or I'll send you hence.

Balt.
Were you encompass'd with hot lightning, arm'd
With Corslets made of Dragons maile, your breath
As poysonous as a Vipers, or a Toads,
Yet I alone would dare t'encounter you.
Rod.
You're very valiant: Frenzy prompts you thus,
Or else tis some fat Fleming, who being drunk,
Hath lost his way to th'Brothell, and doth think
To find his drab here: Friend, you've lost your way:
Be wise, and save your carcasse by a retreat:
You I walk, nay make a leg, and thank me too
For letting you to passe, or I shall teach
Your noll more manners.
Bal.
Teach thy selfe, false man,
[Page 28]More honesty: which of you is it, that
Thus Courts my Mariana? cause to him
I only speak.
Cha.

'Tis I.

Bal.
Then let me tell you:
You injure one, that never injur'd you:
She's mine, betroth'd to me:
Cha.
I'm sorry 'twas
My hapless fate to meet you in this place,
I shall but poast you through the Avernal Lakes
On Ambassy to Pluto: and desire
Those Deities to fit you with a Mistress:
You'll have her forcibly, although you see
She cannot love you? gentle friend, put up!
This is a glorious quarrel, every drop
Of blood, that's spilt, will have a Crown beyond
The palm of Martyrs▪ For my Mistress? come!
Address your self to prayers first.
(Drawes.)
Balt.
Prithee stay:
Thou seem'st a person qualifi'd, before
We fight and die (for that one of's must do)
Think what unworthy and inhuman cause
You stand to justifie with blood: her Father
Hath giv'n her me, before whole Quires of Saints,
(Heav'ns hierarchy) we were contracted: do not,
Blinded with lust, run headlong to a sin,
So foul and horrid: hazard not your souls
Lasting salvation in a quarrel, so
Unjust on thy part: say, 't should be my fate
(As it may be) to kill you: what a mass
Of endless woe thou pluckst upon thy head?
Hadst thou no other crimes to charge thy soul,
Think what a monstrous, and ignoble sin
Is supplantation in this kind of wrong:
Above Astraea's Laws? A Christian, Sir,
(As you should be) at naming this would have
A frigid palzy in his veins: pray, tell me,
Feel you no Earthquake in you?
Cha.
Thus, and thus
I'll Catechize you.
(Stabs him)
Bal.

Oh!

(falls)
Rod.
So preach in hell:
We have full entrance now, but least the noyse
Disturb the house, we'd best depart, and come
When the next night in favour to us shrowds
Sleeping Olympus in her dusky clouds.
Cha.

I do approve your counsell: —

Exeunt.
Balthazar rises up.
Bal.
So! they are gon: I'm hurt, my loss of blood
[Page 29]Makes my legs falter: Fool, to shed a drop
In an effeminate quarrel: can the name
Of woman pass without fell execrations
Through these parcht lips? henceforth I will evade them,
As the infectious scum of pestilence:
To Troy once famous one base Helen brought
A finall ruine: fair Persepolis
Had still stood Asia's glory, had not Thais
(That obscaene Thaiuml;s) by her witchcraft made
Fond Alexander to consume't by fire:
Each woman is a plague: I justly may
Curse their whole sex, since Mariana's false.
I must be silent.
Enter Gaspar.
Gasp.

Balthazar?

Bal.

Who art thou?

Gasp.
'Tis I, your servant Gaspar! are my words
Not truth: have you not met with them: Alas!
I fear you're wounded: Sir, base villains! —
Bal.
Yes doubly Gaspar, for my bodies harms
Surgeons may cure them: but the wounds my mind
Suffers, 's past help of plaisters: Oh! I bleed:
These are but scratches, here's a wound indeed.
Gasp.
Faith! think not on it, Sir, she may be honest,
Though she hath suitors: women will delight
In the plurality of servants.
Bal.
But
That she whostood the Goddess of my love,
Whose truth should Angels with me 've sought to blast,
I should have judg'd them lyars: should be thus
Inconstant, false: this puts me quite beyond
The confines of all reason!
Gasp.

Good Sir! patience.

Bal.
Patience! what's that? pray carry me to some
Infected Pesthouse, or foul Hospitall,
Where all diseases flourish: where no sound
Person can enter, but he must return
Full fraught with all contagions: there I'll steal
From one a plague-sore; rob another of
His purple spots, this of a feaver, till
I have ingross'd all maladies, that carrie
A spreading rancour with them, and that have
Death in their bosomes: then I'll straitway come,
And keep society with none, but women:
Til the whole sex have shar'd of death, and those
(For some will live) that do remain to keep
Earths store alive, be so infected, that
Their future issue be all monstrous: Tell me,
Should I not fit her then for this, and all
That bear the name of women?
Gas.
[Page 30]
Sir, you grow
Outragious in your passion; your blood
Carries a fervor, that won't let this passe
Without revenge; I'll work the means, if you
Have heart to act it.
Bal.

Wilt thou doe't?

Gas.
Ne're fear't:
Go to your lodging, dress your wounds, you may
Inform her Father at your leasure.
Bal.
Well,
I'll rest upon thy care, and make my hand
In thanks retaliate thy just deserts.
Gas.
O! that I could but borrow for this instant,
A vipers breath to blast thee, but 'tis well,
Vines clip not Elms for nothing, I must twine
About them subtly, till they kiss the earth,
Or else my ends will have abortive birth.
Exit.

Scena quarta.

Enter Varina.
Var.
NOw should I be intrapt in my own Gin,
Whom should I blame, but only my false heart?
Should that unkindnesse dropping from my pen,
Extinguish quite poor Roderiguez flame,
On whom should I disgorge my troubled stomach,
But on my selfe? 'tis pretty to consider
How I expose my selfe unto a wound,
To make another bleed. —
Enter Roderiguez.
Rod.
Pardon, sweet Damsell, this my bold intrusion,
Urg'd not by rude behaviour, but by love.
Var.
Sir, you're a stranger; but if it be void
Of ill intent, your pardon's quickly seal'd.
Rod.
If that to evidence the true affection
I alwayes bare unto your noble self,
Be ill intent, then my accesse is conscious.
Var.
To court me with your love, Sir, it is strange,
I'm a poor Orphan, one whom Fate decreed
To hang my Fortunes on anothers girdle,
Time sure hath prov'd himselfe a cunning Artist,
That in so short a space could frame a subject
For your affection; 'tis not long a goe
My eyes tooke their first notice of you.
Rod.
Time.
Is not that cunning Artist, but your vertues,
Which through the winding convex of my ears,
Convey'd this winding admiration to my heart,
'Tis not your means, sweet Lady, but your love
[Page 31]That I now covet: For your guardians favour,
I weigh it little, so you'l grant me yours:
Throw not those angry fire-balls of thy eyes
Upon me who am Touch-wood, lest I here
Moulder to ashes; bid them that they keep
Fast their Artillery; 'tis your milder beams,
Those rayes of favour that we now request.
Var.
Though I am conscious of no demerits
Residing in me, that might claim these praises,
These pick-thanks of your tongue, I think my selfe
Too good to entertain a scornfull jeer;
For honours sake forbear't.
Rod.
Wretched mistake!
That you should once conceive my heart could lodge
The least base thought that's Traytor to your honor!
Var.
But hear me, Sir, Once walking with my Nurse
For recreation in our shady groves,
She told me her prophetick spirit fear'd
Some false One would betray me to his love,
And to my ruine.
Rod.
If 'twas me she meant,
The Sibyll lyed.
Var.

Howe're, it breeds suspition.

Rod.
What demonstration of my zealous faith
Can this your incredulity exact?
Shall I contend in combat with the Lion?
Or else affront the ugly foaming Boar?
What is't that I shall doe? Speak, and 'tis done:
Shall I betake my self to th' Russian Fields
Ith' midst of Winter, where my faithfull blood
May freeze to Corall, and my sad laments,
Congeal with th'aire? Shall I devote my selfe
A sactifice to Aetna, or to Neptune?
Shall I atchieve to fetch the golden fruit
From th'scaly Dragon? pluck fell Cerberus out
From's stinking den? These, or a thousand more,
I'll doe at your command.
Var.
To promise, Sir,
Is easie, when performance lags behind.
Rod.
'S your heart so prepossest, that there's no room,
No corner left to hold one grain of faith?
Var.
I'll try your love; here, take this, drink it off.
(gives him wine)
Leave not one drop i'th' bottom of the cup.
Rod.

What e're it be, I'll banish feare and do't.

(drinks.)
Var.

Is't off?

Rod.

It is.

Var.
Then know that thou art poyson'd.
This is that draught which to Ʋlysses mates,
[Page 32]In stead of drink sage Circe did extend;
'Tis venoms quintessence, rank poyson.
Rod.

Poyson?

Var.
Yea, poyson! not the ugly Toad includes
Worse venome then that potion.
Rod.
Methinks,
I feel no alteration in my blood.
Var.
I know that too. Th'time for its operation
Is not yet come; some sev'n hours hence, and then
A deadly fire raging within thy breast,
Shall make thy Arteries crack, and tear thy nerves:
An Iron girdle shall not hold thy body
It shall so swell with this envenom'd draught.
Rod.
Alas! good Lady, you much fail i'th' end
For which you practise this; you plot my torture
By fear of death, alas! you doe mistake,
My love shall own you for her greatest friend:
For thus to live, deprived of your love,
Is worse ten thousand times then death it selfe.
Then, thank you for this cruell courtesie,
I will not stile you cruel, or hard hearted,
But pitifull, a kind and loving Lady,
And so will limb your vertues to the life:
This kindness chalenges my best respects;
First, that you fix a period to my flames:
Next, that I dye a sacrifice to you:
Var.

What? Art thou glad to die, and proud to fall A victime by my hands?

Rod.

Your victime, Lady!

Var.
Do not dissemble, in the heav'nly Quire
There's no permission for an hypocrite
To be a Chorister; do not palliate
Th'internall thoughts with such Hypocrisie.
Rod.
I scorn the Title of an Hypocrite,
I liv'd your Lover, and will dye your Martyr.
Var.
Then am I sorry for my cruel act.
There, take thou that, and work thine own revenge
(gives a bodkin.)
While time permits.
Rod.
It shall not be, sweet Lady.
First, should these eyes behold these wretched hands
Pluck forth my entrals: should my harmlesse soul
When 'tis transported over Charons passage,
But have intelligence that you were injur'd.
It would return, and kill your enemy.
Var.
What needs a further triall of thy love?
Then know, that draught I gave thee was not poyson,
But is as cordiall as th' Hyblaean neclar.
Rod.
This is beyond the fadome of my weak
[Page 33]Conception's, that you durst expose your life
To one, whom you (for ought he knew) had injur'd.
Var.
I durst expos't to thee, I knew thy heart,
Forgive me now the rude assault I made
Upon thy patience: here accept my hand,
My heart, my love, 'tis all thine own.
Rod.
This gift
Is more to me then th' Orientall Empire,
Which lies embroider'd with earths chiefest treasure,
Pactolus, nor proud Tagus cannot bring
So rich a Present to their native Prince,
As is Varina's love: Alas! one kisse
Stoln from her lips, is worth th' Grand-Signiors bliss.
Exeunt.

Scaena quinta.

Enter Gaspar, solus.
I'll be an Argus, for no other name
Will better sit me; I will watch this Io,
I'll dive into her secrets, and her maids;
I'll look with Eagles eyes into her wayes,
And went she through her actions as the snakes
Glide o're the stones, yet would I find their tract.
Exit.

Scena sexta.

Enter Alonzo, Frederique, Picarro.
Alo.
LEt me perswade you, Brother, to surcease
This endlesse suit, what wilt advantage you
To keep his carcasse?
Fred.
Why ran he in debt?
I could have kept my money.
Pic.
Sir, my Father
Doth not deny to pay you, all he asks
Is time of payment.
Alo.
Can he offer fairer?
He owes me money, yet I so respect
Alvarez credit, that I'll take his word
Without security.
Fred.
And because you
Will play the fool, and lose your money, must
I doe so too; let me then have his land.
Pic.
Sir, if you'l take my bond, I will oblige
My selfe, and all the land my Father leaves me,
To give you satisfaction.
Fred.
Keep your land,
Sow garlick on't, I will have nought but money▪
Give me my money.
Alo.
[Page 34]
You're the strangest man
That e're I dealt with, had not you farre better
Take that then loose all▪ say, he die in prison,
What will you get then?
Fred.
'S body, that I'll sell
To the Dice-makers, they shall put his bones
To the same use they were at while he liv'd,
He may thank's gaming for't, the Dice, and [...]s Drabs.
Pic.
My patience will not hear this▪ Covetous man,
Were't not for th'reverence I ow, this house,
Thou shouldst not thus abuse thy betters —
Fre.
He
Threatens, bear witnesse, Sir, I'll have your tongue
Bound to the peace.
Enter Balthazar.
Alo.
Balthazar, pray perswade
Your Fathers patience.
Bal.
Where's your daughter, Sir?
Not stirring?
Alo.

Yes! — Mariana!

Enter Mariana
Ma.

Did you call?

Bal.

My business, Sir, is private.

Alo.

We'll withdraw.

Exeunt Alonzo, Frederique, Picarro.
Bal.
Good morrow, Mistress, slept you well last night?
Your eyes look red, I doubt you slept not well.
Ma.

What makes you look so ghastly?

Bal.
Faith! I dream'd
Last night, that being underneath your window,
I heard men talk there, and you answer.
Ma.
Dreams
Are foolish fancies, and 'tis witchcraft, Sir,
To credit them.
Bal.
Nay more, I heard you vow
Love unto one, and bid him come and enter
Into your Conclave; you doe understand me?
Ma.

Yes! that you dream'd so.

Bal.
And as he was going,
I staid his passage, and he wounded me.
And when I wak't, blushing Aurora told me
That I was wounded.
Ma.
Sir, You did but dream,
Beleeve it not.
Bal.
Yes, Mariana, see
This Crimson livery which your servants bounty
Last night bestow'd upon me, 'tis a brave one,
Does't not become me finely?
Ma.
Saints protect me!
How came you hurt, my dearest Balthazar?
You are not wounded?
Bal.
[Page 35]
This is brave, she will
Perswade me she is innocent. O woman!
How various are thy humours? thy devices?
How sly thy projects? Men with ease can find
Natures obscurest reaches, over-reach
The craft of Serpents, tame wild beasts, and bring
All things to their subjection, onely woman
With her deceit, surpasses man, confounds
His best capacity. But tell me, Mistress,
Did you not see me wounded?
Ma.
I? These eyes
Would have turn'd blind at such a sight; let's see!
Is your wound dangerous?
Bal.
Heav'ns! I think deceit
Has left its room in Hell, and built its mansion
Within thy breast: Is't possible your face
Can be so full of impudence, to sweare
A thing so false?
Ma.

He raves! I'll call for help!

Bal.
Yet more Maeanders! tell me hypocrite,
My fine dissembler, who it was you set
To be my Butcher? I'll not seek revenge;
But (as my duty is) go kiss his hands,
Prostrate my neck unto his honor'd feet,
Because my Mistress loves him.
Ma.

Las! he's frantick!

Bal.
True! you have made me, Mariana, were there
Any evasion to excuse thy crime,
I should be ready to believe thou mightst
Be blamelesse yet! But I have proofs that banish
All probabilities, my ears can tell
That thou'rt turn'd Harpy; Oh! there is no trust,
No faith in woman left!
Mar.
Yet in this fury?
Dear Balthasar, what have your jealous eyes
Observ'd in my behaviour? You should think
That when my Fathers will hath made me yours.
I should fall off and take another.
Bal.
Nothing!
My eyes and feeling faile me, all my senses
Were wrapt in extasies of endlesse pleasure,
To think you were my Mistress: I do know
That you are vertuous, your affection's wholly
Bent to my love; let me but kisse your hand,
But touch it onely, and you'l soon perceive
With what an equall temper I can doe it;
I'm none of those who carry hot-houses,
Stoves in their blood, I've been too cold a Lover,
[Page 36]Too modest with you, therefore you reject me.
Mar.

Yet more outragious?

Bal.
And have taken one
Some strange-backt monster, whom perchance you've seen
Out of your window in the Placa, take
The quick Strapado nimbly, or have born
Some massy burden, and his big-made joynts
Ne're crack beneath his ponderous weight, that promis'd
An abler body to content your lust,
More raging then a Goats; be briefe, who is't?
Some slavish Galliego, that has stoln
My int'rest in thee?
Ma.
You're a foul mouth'd man!
Come you to rail? you shall find fuell friend
To feed your fire with, till its hear has burn'd
Thy intrails out; I love another, goe,
And tell my father on't, nor you nor he
Shall know his name: it was the same that hurt you,
You may goe tell, Sir.
Bal.
Impudence, declare
(draws his sword.)
Or perish.
Mar.

Murder!

Enter Alonze, Frederique, Gaspar.
Alo.
How now Balthazar?
What drawn upon my daughter? 'tis not fair.
Mar.
Pray give an ear unto my short request;
As you're my Father, kill me, e're my name
Be blasted thus by this ignoble man,
Whose head hath forg'd a crime against me; Fiends
Would ne're have dream't of.
Bal.

Strumpet!

Alo.
Sir, desist.
You have done more already then you'l answer.
Mar.
He charges me, that underneath my window
Last night some people hurt him; that he heard
Men talk to me: which how 'tis possible,
And you not heare it, judge your selfe: but malice
Ne're wants a subject to defame.
Bal.
Your servant
Can verifie my words as truth.
Gas.
Who I?
Did not the rev'rence which I ow this house,
With-hold me from the fury which the lie
(You call me as a witness to) had stir'd?
In these hot veins, you should be taught, base man,
How to create such Fabricks.
Bal.
Slave! we will
Have vengeance.
Gas.
Yes! we mean to have it, Sir.
You'l walk, or by this Rapier
Bal.
[Page 37]
Walk awhile, I shall
Live to dissect thy treacherous Corps, as small
As crums or Atomes.
Exeunt Balth. Fred. Mariana.
Gas.
Heark you, Signior,
The goodness that your goodness makes me owe
Your Family, obliges me to be
Nice in a point, that does so near concern
Your houses reputation: Balthasar
Said nought but truth, for Mariana has
Assiduall suitors.
Alo.
Hadst th' a Devils spleen,
Or Serpents breath, thou could'st not blast her goodness?
Gas.
First should this weapon rip my entrals out,
E're I would be so impious as to seek
To blast her fame: honest? her sex may raise
After her death Mausolaean monuments,
Or some tall Pyramid, as to the chastest,
E're crown'd the name of women Nature first
Would go awry, the Ocean lose its course;
E're she her vertue. Lass! Sir, I do only
Tell, she's frequented.
Alo.
Why did you deny this?
When he did charge you with it?
Gas.
Though to you
In privat I give notice; think not, Patron,
I am so careless of your Daughters honour,
Or your good name: (although in things of truth)
To back her foes. I do believe, her spirit
Flowing with noble thoughts rejected him
Only to place her love upon another,
Of higher merit.
Alo.
Then it seems you know
Whom she's frequented by?
Gas.
Your'e pleas'd to call
My faith in question, Sir.
Alo.
Next time he comes,
Be sure you give me notice; that's your charge
Gas.
I'll loose this worthless breath else, when you see,
You will believe it, mean time what you please,
Do Sir: Be sure you shall behold that she
Shall miss her match by my fine treachery.
(Aside)
Exeunt.

ACT 3.

SCENE 1.

Enter Roderiguez, Varina, and Corinna.
Rod.
THy Uncle, Love, holds still a jealous eye
On all my actions: and I am advis'd
[Page 38]By my friend Gaspar, that's suspicious ears
Are still behind the hangings: that the servants
Have from him in commands to watch who visits
Your self, or Mariana, 'twill be best,
And safest in my judgement, in his presence
That thou forbear to cast a smile upon me:
And that like old December I should look,
With an unpleasant and contracted brow:
Var.
Why? canst thou change thy heart, my Dear, that heart
Of flesh (thou gav'st me) into Adamant,
Or rigid Marble? canst thou frown on me?
Rod.
You do mistake me, sweet, I mean not so
To change my heart: I'll change my countenance,
But keep my heart as loyal, as before.
Var.
In troth I cannot credit it, that thou
Canst cast a frown on me: I prithee try.
Rod.

Then thus! —

(He tries and cannot, they smile on each other.)
Var.
I prithee, sweet, betake thy self to schoole,
This Lesson thou must learn, in troth thou'rt out.
Rod.
Well! I must learn and practise it, or we
Shall blast our budding hopes.
Var.

Come! try again!

Rod.
But if I try, and prove a good proficient:
If I do act my part discreetly, you
Must take it as a Play, not as a truth,
Think it a formall, not a reall frown?
Var.

I shall.

Rod.

Then once more thus,

(He frowns, and saith, I' faith Mynion I'll look to you: she swounds.)
Cor.
My Mistress hath
The falling-sickness of us maids! help Sir!
Rod.
Why how now, sweet? I did distrust thy weakness:
Now I have learnt my part, you are to seek.
Var.
Faith! 'twas my weakness, when I did perceive
A cloud of rage condensed on thy brow,
My heart began to melt: but pardon, sweet!
'Twas an effeminate infirmity.
Rod.
This must be left: the world must be deluded,
With outward species; we must blind their eyes
With mists and shadows: Faith! thou must disclaim
Thy childishness, and arm thy self with valour:
Grow masculine my dear▪ an El'zabeth,
An English Eliz'beth, whose grave aspect
Though woman may decline thee almost man.
Var.
It must be so, or my effeminat heart
Will prove our ruine.
Enter Gastper.
Gas.
[Page 39]
What? you're always billing?
Measuring your lips together? All the house
Is in an uproar: and your Uncles eye
Rolls up and down in every corner: haste,
Or you'll be taken: Don Praepontio came
To visit you, Varina: is enraged
To finde you absent: all your nuptiall robes
(He saies) are fitted, and your bridall bed:
Next Thursday is design'd to knit your hands:
The Priest will then in readiness attend:
This was the substance of his errand.
Var.
Gaspar!
I've thought thee still my friend: and thy advise
(I know) is sound: Contrive, which way I may
Shun Don Praepontio's bed; and keep my honour
Reserv'd for Roderiguez.
Rod.
Honest Gaspar!
Modell some way: 'tis not an armed Legion
Shall stop my passage, till I do efect it:
Gaspar, thy Counsell.
Gas.
Sir, your obligations
Have beam'd so freely on me, that my brain
Is wholly at your service: and this Lady
May likewise challenge, as her just desert,
What lies within the verge of my small power.
My counsell deems it best, that when the Church
Expects their near approach, in some disguise
You Roderiguez with some other blades,
Lay Don Praepontio breathless, and in haste
Convey your prize, Varina, to some Cottage
Which lies sequestred from the Cities eye:
There's the best safety, till the Inquisition
Is out of breath: and smiling fortune offer
A time, when you may marry her in peace.
Rod.
Your policy is orthodox, my hand
Shall ratifie it with a bloudy seal.
Exeunt.

Scena secunda.

Enter Praepontio, Alvarado, Rubio.
Alv.
Nephew! you now are entring into th' world,
Let me advise you, who am well experienc'd,
Be not too credulous, trust none without
A good assurance: try before you trust.
Prae.

I warrant you, Vncle, your wealth link'd with my wit, will make me an unparallell'd Gentleman, they will elect me Alcalde Ma­jor, next year, or else I say there is no prudence in the gray-beards of the City.

Rub.
[Page 40]

Very pathetically spoken, when you are Governour of the Ci­ty, I hope you will give me a good Office.

Prae.

Yes! thou shalt have the honourable function of hangman: how lik'st thou it?

Rub.

Marry Sir, I do not like hanging very well.

Prae.

Who art thou?

(Enter Taylor)
Tay.

Your worships Taylor, Sir.

Prae.
That is to say my worships thief, alias theif to my worship.
Are my wifes nuptiall Vestments ready?
Tay.

To the putting on Sir.

Prae.

Hast thou perfum'd the clasps and keepers?

Tay.

They will take no perfume, Sir.

Prae.

Hast thou made her petticoat to the behind or before?

Tay.

On the side, Sir, according to the French Fash'on.

Pra.

Yes! that's best. We Spaniards must now tout ala mode France.

Tay.

And her gown needs no fardingale Sir.

Prae.

Well, very well: give your attendance to morrow, and you shal have a quarter of a chicken and a le [...]man for your dinner.

Rub.

Afford 6 panvilos, he may chance eat your dishes else.

Prae.

What's that?

Tay.

A busque.

Prae.

Must she wear it behind or before, or between her legs to keep them from interferring!

Tay.

No! Sir, but on her breast, to hide her great belly.

Prae.

Are the Fidlers bespoken? has the shoo-makers brought home my embroidered pantofles, I mean to dance in them: bid the Millai­ner put ambergrease enough on my shirt, I shall stir till I stink else.

Rub.

Of sweat Sir?

Prae.

I, what else?

Alv.

Come, Nephew, you had best go visit her to night.

Prae.

I'll go before you Sir.

Exeunt.

Scena Tertia.

Enter Alonzo, Mariana, Gaspar.
Alo.
Come you egregious strumpet
(Drags her, his sword drawn)
Abstract of impudence! what has my patience
Made thee presume of my connivency:
So much vile, Mynion, that your wanton lust
Durst gallop like a posthorse: run at base
In sin, and fearless meet lasciviousness:
As if that Saints and men had been as deep
Involv'd in sleep, as you in sin: and now
To see Your lust dance Anticks? must my house
Be made the stewes, the sinfull receptacle
Of you and your Adulterers? you could laugh
[Page 41]At me, contemn my age; Alas! poor man!
The Gout doth hold him captive in his Couch,
We need not fear him: I did hear you Mistress,
And would have entred then, but that I thought
It more revenge, I held it greater Justice
To send thy soul (grown filthy) unto hell
Glutted with pleasures. Come, you'll tell me, Mistress,
Who 'twas, was with you.
Gas.
Thus outragious?
Fye! Patron! such a passion would befit
A husband better then a father: Age
Should furnish you with better temper, Cousin:
Sweet, wipe thy eyes: in troth 'tis but a trick
Common to such young folks, to have a servant,
A friend in privat to supply their wants:
Be not so passionate, you must forgive her.
Pardon, good Sir.
(Holds him)
Alo.
Stand by, or I shall turn
My rage on you! Insatiate Strumpet! was not
The man I destin'd for your husband, good:
(Too good for thee) but that thy wanton eyes
Must choose another? Must the Patrimony
I thought to leave thee, the estate I purchas'd
With such a care become a salary
To your hot sin: your Bastards shortly will
Call Grandfather, and look for portions
Out of my wealth, but I'll prevent it, Mynion:
Speak briefly!
(Mar. kneels down)
Ma.
What? that I have sinn'd? O Sir!
Remember I'm your daughter, let that name
Move you to pitty of my fact, which youth,
Unbridled youth occasion'd: though my crime
May challenge death, as it's desert: your hands
Ought not to be deaths messengers: 't suffices
That I have sinn'd, add not to my delict
By making you a parricide: dear father,
Forgive me.
Alo.
No! Thou'st laid a stain upon
Our houses honour, which thy wanton blood,
Nought else can wash away.
Ma.
O! rob not Heav'ns
Of their prerogatives; let them revenge
Your quarrell, for my mothers sake, whom oft
You said my feature represented, spare me:
For her sake do it.
Alo.
Nay, for her sake rather
I must be mov'd to butcher thee, who fear'st not
So to profane her image, which remains
[Page 42]Better decipherd in thy perfect essence,
Then in her monument: Thoud'st better 've pull'd
Her sacred reliques from their Urne, defil'd them,
Cast out her ashes on a dunghill, then
Committed this, for which her glorious soul
(If Saints can weep) makes heav'n a sea: O Girle!
Shame! that thou art my issue: I conceited
If there had ought been good in Nature, then
Thou had'st been Mistress of it: now I see
(Grief to my age!) I was too fond: Affection
Made me adore an Idol: I was cozen'd:
There is no trust in mortals.
Gas.
Pray you, Sir!
You are too much distemper'd: faith! her fault
Is not worth half this anger: take her up,
Let not the earth pollute those limbs, the pride
Of Natures workmanship, you may behold
In those fair Orbs true penitence, those tears
Were of sufficient vertue to restore
A person damn'd to paradise: forgive her:
Or you're too cruel, Signior.
Alo.
Let her then
Reveal her Partner.
Gas.
That demand's unjust,
If she should do it, men should fear hereafter
To preasure women, when they see that threats
Can force Discoveries: good Sir, ask it not,
'Tis too unreas' nable.
Ma.

What said my Father?

Alo.
Marry, ungratious minyon: I would know
Whom you have chosen for your stallion,
To glut your never-sated Orke withlust.
Ma.

Is't me you mean Sir? slack your passion, Sir. —

Gas.

Conceal him, if you do affect his life.

(Whispers to her)
Ma.
These lips yet tepid with his frequent kisses,
Before they utter ought to hurt him, shall
Be clos'd for ever, rather rot with Cankers.
Gas.

Noble Virago!

Alo.

Then resolve to die.

Ma.
I care not, here's my bosome, rip it up,
And steal an acute Eagles eye to pry
Into my hearts small caverns, and explore
His name, that writ there, yet it will remain
Hid in some little Concave, that your fury
Shall never know it: kill me, I shall smile
On ugly death: embrace her with a soul
Triumphant as a Martyrs, I will perish
A thousand times, e're once I wil disclose
[Page 43]That pretious secret.
(Gaspar holds him)
Alo.
Do you brave me? do you?
Let go my hands.
Gas.
I must not, will not let you
Draw mischief on your self: go in sweet Coz!
Let me alone with him.
Exit Mariana
Alo.
Stand off: Let go,
And let me follow her.
Gas.
For what? your rage
Shall not have way to do an act: which done,
You'ld wail in tears for ever, should you kill her,
Think what a crime you onerate your soul wich,
Next, what a scandall would ensue: a man
Of your known worth at this age to become
A Parricide on such a daughter, only
For keeping close her friend: Why should you be
Inquisitive to know him?
Alo.

T' have revenge.

Gas.
Why so I did imagin: banish rage,
And hear with reasons ears: be sure your daughter
Has plac'd her love on some base one, she dares not
Make privy to your ear, should she disclose him,
You would, she thinks, have vengeance for her fault:
Were he a person noble, she would haste
To tell his name, boast of her choice: how say you?
Is not this reason?
(Lets go his hands)
Alo.

Very true!

Gas.
He being
A man so worthless, 't would disgrace you more
In seeking vengeance, for the humourous world
Apt to suspect the worse, would judge the Cause
Of your revenge to be, as 'tis: and so
You lay your own dishonour, and your daughters,
Open, which else might sleep unmention'd, none
But you and I are privy to't, and e're
A syllable should pass in your disgrace
Out of my mouth, I vvould be dumb.
Alo.
But Gaspar!
What shall I do vvith her? For Balthasar
Will publish her disgrace, so all vvill shun
Her hated Nuptials: I'll go make her enter
'Mong barefoot Nuns into some Monastery,
Spend the long remnant of her blooming youth
In holy prayers and penitence: I'll make
The poor my heirs, found sacred Hospitals,
Build Colledges vvith my revenues.
Gas.
[Page 44]
Madness!
Religious madness! that's the ready way
To sell her to damnation: will her spirit,
(Can you conceive) which now doth pass the limits
Of Liberty, endure a Cloister? Balthasar?
Fear not his clamours; wise men will impute
Them to his passion; 'cause h'as lost her, rather
Then to her merit: Patron, you may finde
Some younger Brother noble as her self
To be her husband; Gold will make her seem
A virgin, though a Mother.
Alo.
Honest Gaspar!
I know thou lov'st me.
Gas.
As I doe the bliss
I hope for.
Alo.
And, alas! ungratefull I
Have been too negligent of thy worth, but thou
Hast inurn'd all those acts.
Gas.

'Ts my Duty.

Alo.
Once
I promis'd thee her marriage, and in Justice
She is thy wife; and sure Astraea's angry
For th' injury I did thee, and imposeth
This heavy cross upon me; wilt thou now
Solemnize with her Hymens sacred rites?
Be not dismaid; although her hair-brain'd youth
Hath run into an errour, rather due
To heat of blood, then her condition,
She may be honest.
Gas.
Honest! I dare swear
She will be truly vertuous, but the meanness
Of my poor fortunes makes me worthless, I
Have a spot in my blood, which would dishonour
Your family, reserve that, Sir, for one
Of noble and illustrious Parentage;
Whose worth and quality may add a title
Unto your houses fame; for my part, I
Nourish no such thoughts; all the height my poor
Ambition soars at, is to be esteem'd
Your humble slave still.
Alo.
Thou'rt too humble, Gaspar,
Erect thy Spirit, man, thou hadst a Father
Had fire in's veins; come, thou shalt marry her;
I doe command you.
Gas.
Your commands are laws,
As sacred to me as are Oracles,
I must not break them.
Alo.

Thou wilt wed her then?

Gas.
[Page 45]

Since you command it.

Alo.
Now I see thou lov'st me.
Call me no more thy Patron, but thy Father.
I will acquaint my daughter with my will.
Exit.
Gas.
Have I not labour'd finely? has my brain
Not won the Laurell wreath? She is my own,
And what care I now what the envious world
Can say of me? They'l call me Cuckold, that's
In my esteem, as much as they should call
Me Signior: Let her take her pleasure, she,
Not I, doth sin: I'm sure she will afford me
My fill at night too. Happy Age! when all
Were common, when old Natures lawes were read
Without a Comment: every man was free
For every woman: then none fear'd the stab
For kissing.
Enter Picarro.
Pic.

Save you Gaspar.

Gas.
And you too:
Sir, what's your businesse?
Pic.
'Tis not, Sir, with you,
'Tis with your Master.
Exit.
Gas.
With your Master? Hem!
How scornfully this youth demeans himselfe?
E're long, when I am married, I shall be
Sir Don, or any thing.
Enter Alonzo and Picarro.
Pic.
Good Sir, my Father
Commends him to you, and intreats you would
For satisfaction of the debt he owes you,
Accept his land at Cordova in mortgage,
And pay old Frederiques debt.
Alo.
I grieve, Picarro,
That he should com to this; but 'tis his fate,
I'll doe him any courtesie, return
This as my answer.
Pic.

Honor'd Sir, I shall.

(is going out.)
Alo.
A handsome man, and an observant son.
Call back Picarro, Gaspar!
Gas.
Sir, Picarro.
My Father doth request you to return.
Alo.
Signior Picarro, I so much lament
Your noble Fathers case, that will you truly
Resolve me one thing, I will pay his debts
Without your mortgage.
Pic.
'Tshould be difficult
That I would not doe for his liberty.
Alo.

Are you in love

Pic.

Not to my knowledge.

Alo.
Could
[Page 46]You be content to have a Wife?
Gas.
Corinna
Were a fit match for him.
Pic.

Yes, of your choosing.

Alo.
You've seen my daughter Mariana, what
Say you to her?
Gas.
She is contracted, Sir,
Surely he will not break his promise with me.
Pic.

Your daughters worth's beyond my hopes.

Alo.
But say,
That you should have her, could you her affect?
Gas.

Sure! sure he jests.

Pic.
Nothing but heav'n and bliss,
I should desire more then her love.
Alo.
Picarro;
I doe so much commiserate thy Father,
And thy own sufferings, that I am resolv'd
To give her to thee; and thy land shall be
Her Joynture.
Gas.
Do I dream? Ha! ha! I hope
I shall not be deluded, Patron, Father,
What doe you mean?
Alo.

Peace! slave! I'll tell her of it.

Exit.
Gas.
But surely, Patron, you will not deale thus?
Heark, Sir, you mean to marry her?
Pic.

I doe.

Gas.

You see this sword?

Pic.

I, what of that?

Gas.
Nay nothing.
It is a pure Toledo blade, it cost
As it is really worth, twelve Duccats, Sir.
But if you marry her, you have a woman.
Pic.

I hope she's no Hermaphrodite.

Gas.
No, but
She's something else, a Whore.
Pic.

Out slave! thou'rt frantick.

Exit.
Gas.
O! that I were but valiant, had but heart
Great as my wrongs are, or but so much power
As would suffice to right them; I could pull
The Crystall Axell that supports the Spheares,
Down to the earth, that all the world might perish
Together with my selfe, since all have sworn
To be stark villains with me: I'm resolv'd
Flectere si nequeo Superos, Acheronta movere.
To Hell, I'll now address me.
Enter Balthazar.
Bal.
Thou art come.
Now to thy period, Bastard! 'twas your plot
To bring me 'mong my enemies, on purpose
[Page 47]To have me slain, but I have scap't to be
Thy ruine. Say thy Prayers. —
(drawes his Sword)
Gasp,

What mean you, Sir?

Bal.
To kill thee, slave, and so set free the earth
From bearing such an execrable monster,
Such an inhumane villain.
Gas.
As your're noble,
Lend me a little utterance, till I cloath
in vocall sounds, a businesse that concerns
Your honour neerly.
Bal.
But be brief, thy breath
Will blast me els.
Gas.
You come, you say, to kill me?
I'm glad that Nature has afforded life
To such a wretch as I am, till my blood
May doe a person of your worth a pleasure.
Bal.

And is this all?

Gas.
Forbeare a little, heare me;
You doe suppose it was my plot to bring
You to your death, I do confesse.
Bal.

What? Speak!

Gas.
That won with gifts, I did entice you thither
To your destruction: But, hear me, Sir,
There's none so vile, but may repent; and since
Your Fate afforded you a happier lot,
Then to be slain, forgive me: if the blood
Of such a miscreant, can ought avail you,
I'll give it you my selfe, you shall not stain
Your noble hands with my poore homicide.
Bal.
Rare! excellent villain: But methinks those tears.
And looks, spring out of feigned penitence;
Disclose the man that hurt me, and I'll pardon
Thy horrid fact, and raise thee.
Gas.
Willingly:
'Twas he must be her husband.
Bal.

Picarro.

Gas.

Picarro.

Bal.

May I beleeve you? Is this truth?

Gas.

Else kill me.

Bal.

Farewell! there's gold.

Gas.
But stay, if one so vile
As I may give you counsell?
Bal.
Any thing
That tends to his destruction.
Gas.
Your hot breast
Thirsts for revenge; let it be noble, he
Off'red you publick wrong, let your revenge
Be publick too!
Bal.
[Page 48]

As how?

Gasp.
As thus, to morrow
When he returns from's wisht-for Nuptials,
Meet him, and kill him, then escape into
The Church, 'twill be your Castle and Asylum;
'Tis brave and safe.
Bal.
Ingenious Gaspar, think
He's dead already.
Exit.
Gas.
This hits right, let all
Perish; I care not, if I rise, who fall.
Exit.

Scena quarta.

Enter Roderiguez, Chaves, Engenia disguised.
Rod.

TIs strange, my Father, Sir, should come to hear on't

Cha.

It was that knavish Boy that did betray us.

Eug.

Pray, Sir, be pleased to return your answer.

Rod.

Friend, you may walk, I've nothing to return.

Eug.
Then without bashfull feare, or flatrery,
You are a noble villain.
Rod.

How now, Sirrah!

Eug.
Is not your Fathers love to be esteem'd
Before your friends? Does not your naturall duty,
You ow him, stirre a fury in your blood
Against that traytor? Poore Eugenia! she
Wearies with tears, ev'n griefe it self to think
Of this curst perjury, and her brothers Spirit,
Which either doth for fear, or fond affection
To that ignoble perjurer, permit
Him breath without revenge; but were it mine,
As 'tis your case, I would devoure him up
Like some wild Anthropophagus: Let Nature
Convince you, kill him.
Rod.
Hold your peace, and walk,
Be gone, or I —
Eug.
What dar'st thou, noble villain!
Thy Father on his blessing charges thee
To take revenge; and dost thou onely not
Contemne his will, but keep society
With his curst Enemy; marke his cursings, Sir,
Thinke on his blessings.
Rod.
Honest friend! the love
I beare your noble quality assayes
Me to detain still with you, but my duty
Commands me not t'incurre my fathers curse.
I must desert you.
Cha.
Prithee doc, kind Coxcombe!
I'm glad I'm rid of thee.
Rod.
[Page 49]
Yet e're we part,
Thinke on my sisters merit, how, her virtues
Transcend your Mistris qualities; next view
The perill that you are in; Should it come
To Balthazar, that you did wound him, death
Would sure ensue; but for our former love
Let me entreat you be reclaim'd.
Cha:
Imust not,
Nor will not, you may:
Rod.
Sure! I am bewitchd,
To love him, when I offer to relinquish
His Company; there's something loads my feete
With lead, I cannot leave him, fellow, goe,
Return this answer to my Father, that
When I come home, I'll satisfy him, why
I did not doe his pleasure, so be gone —
Without reply:
Eug.

Well Sir.

Exit.
Enter Catalina.
Cat.

O! Sir Chaves! what shall we doe Sir Chaves? my Mistris—

Rod.

What of his love? are we discovered?

Cat.

O! worse! she's to be married.

Rod.

Married?

Cat,

I marry, married too morrow at Saint Saviours Church.

Rod.

Alas! poore man! to whom?

Cat.
I know not; oh! I know not!
(wrings her hands.)
Hold him.
(Chaves sinks down.)
Rod.

Good Sir cheere your selfe.

Cha.
Some lucklesse serene blast me, may a damp
Thick as Thyestes serene blast me, may a damp
Thick as Thyestes darkness spring from Dis,
And muffle up the world in endless night;
That none may see those nuptialls, which I'll make
Fatall as Jasons; tell your faithless Mistris
In stead of pines, I'll send her tapers, Yew,
And deadly Cypresse to make green her bed,
Where virgin Laurell and such harmsess boughes
Dare not approach for fear of blasting; Fiends
Will be her Bridemaids; surely I was borne
With all good stars my Opposites. Is't too morrow?
Rod:

Yes Sir too morrow? pray, why rave you thus?

Cha.
I pray Sir tell me, may we not, e're then
Borrow some toylsome woodnetts, and invite
The gallant youth o'th' City to goe hunt
In yonder desarts?
Rod.

Why? what then?

Cha.
To take
The salvage walkers of the wilderness,
Bulls, Wolves and Tygers, and manure them up
In yonder spatious Amphitheater:
[Page 50]And then set fire on't; till their flaming throats
Roare, howle, and raise a Clamour, which may rend,
Like some huge thunderclap the trembling Earth,
That all, e're then, might sink to hell, ha! is't not
Brave? lett's about it, friend.
Rod.
Why should you be
Thus cruell? Sir, your rage transports you.
Cha.
Whither?
Now I know, maid, when she hath seen her own,
She'll view my nuptialls.
Cat.

'Ll you be married too?

Cha.
Married? I'll study to surpasse her falshood,
Her curious eyes, I make no doubt, have chosen
A handsome Bridegroome?
Cat.

Yes! indeed.

Cha.
To let
Her see how much I scorn her and her beauty,
I'll wed me to a Creature, in whose looks
Foulnesse is truly character'd, whose eyes
Are poysonous as a Basilicks, and scarse
Afford their Owner light enough to see
Her bodies horrid edifice, whose frame
Is the true substance, which Anatomists
Aime to decipher in their strange dissections
Of livelesse Mortalls; tell her 'tis to death
I'll wed my selfe; the grave shall be our bed.
Rod.
'Tis none of hers, it is her fathers fault;
Study prevention, or you lose her.
Cha.
Did you
Not, tell me she was to be married?
Rod.

Yes! but I hope we shall finde means to hinder't.

(Whisper)
Cha.

I'll take your Counsell.

Exeunt.

Scaena quinta.

Enter Balthasar and Boy with a pistoll.
Bal.

BRing th' pistoll hither? is it charg'd?

Boy.

It is sir:

Exit.
Bal.
Begon, then quickly. Now Picarro breath
Till 9. a Clock, no longer; hug thy Mistris
Suck poyson form her lips till then, and glory
That thou bereav'dst me of her.
Enter Eugenia
Eug.

Is your name

Balthazar?

sonne to Frederique?

Bal.

Yes! friend.

Eug.
I come to tell you, that you have been wrong'd,
Sold to destruction.
Bal.
All the Town knowes that,
[Page 51]Thou needst not come to tell me on't, perchance
My wounders sent you to explore my secrets;
Prithee about thy business.
Eug.
Can that front,
Those limbs of yours which stile you man, endure
Such an abuse without revenge? I come
T'informe who 'twas that hurt you.
Bal.

Pish! I know them.

Eug.
And can they live unstigmatiz'd for villains?
Surely you know them not, they're strangers here.
Bal.

Did not Picarro hurt me?

Eug,
He poor man!
Is injur'd to be wedded to a strumpet.
Chaves, one Chaves wounded you.
Bal.
What's he?
What is that Chaves?
Eug.

A base villain, Sir.

Bal.

How know'st thou this?

Eug.
By's own confession, Sir,
'Tis he that wounded you, and gratious Themis
Has you decipherd for her instrument
Of vengeance; Chaves is his name, on forfeit
Of all the lives I have, I'll make good what
I told you, and conduct you to the person
That injur'd you.
Bal.

Picarro then is guiltlesse?

Eug.

As is my selfe.

Bal.
Chaves! well let him walk
Till I can meet him, then 'tis odds, this Arme
Shall pay his falshood; but Picarro must not
Passe thus, depart not from me, friend.
Exit.
Eug.
No Sir
Now perjur'd Chaves is thy Fate at hand,
And if Eugenia lives, thou shalt not stand.
Exit.

Scena sexta.

Enter Alvarado. Varina. Praepontio. Alonzo. Rubio. Hebes. Fidlers.
Prae.

PLay louder Picroes, that string's made of an Usurers gut, it sounds like the jyngling of a mony-bag. Fy! on these Git­terns and Treble-base viols, they are not comparable to an Italian bar­biton; march on my deare Colloquintida, Uncle, you are not so merry as the solemnity of my presence deserves. March on fidlers, the fur­mitee my English Cooke promised to make me, will be burnt too else: but what's that Rubio?

Rub.
O Sir! a peece too rare for vulgar eyes,
And worthy only your perspicuous judgment:
[Page 52]An Epithalamium I composed on your wedding, you'll allow my
Mistris Bride to kiss me for't?
Alv.

Nephew, it will serve better at home then here.

Var.

Good Huband! Without Ceremony.

Prae.

Good Husband? How sweetly her throat utters it? All the Pricksong in St. Saviours is not like those two words; but lead the way while I support my magnificent Corps, with my Mistrisses fain. Arm through this dark Entry; they say it is haunted with spirits; but if they come, we'll conjure them.

( Going in he is stab'd by Ro­deriguez and Chaves, who in disguise snatcht away Varina privily)

Oh! The Cramp, the Spavins, the Yellow Janders, the Grincoms, the wambling Trot, or some such Belly vengeance has put my guts out of joynt. I tell you, Rubio, untruss my points.

Rub.

So you may chance contaminate my fingers. Alas! You bleed.

Prae.

Is my blood red or yellow?

Rub.

'Tis white, Sir.

Prae.

Oh! Dismal, dismal! Don Praepontio's guts are too big for his belly.

Alv.

Alas! My Nephew's wounded! Look about who hurt him?

Rub.

'S life, here's nothing but the walls, unless they be invisible. Master, you do but dream, you are not wounded.

Prae.

I am neither Husband, nor Master now, but I must die; I leave my body to be buried; and good Uncle, sweet Wife, and honest Ru­bio, put a musket, powder and shot into the Coffin with me.

Rub.

Look how those Rosy cheekes convert to Dazies!

Prae.

On my blessing do as I bid you, or my furious Ghost will haunt you; for since it was some Spirit of the Buttery; because I lo­ved wine well; or Hobgoblin, because I used to lick the Cream bowls, that has done me this injury to kill me; I will when I come among them be revenged; for sure it is, I must go whisper two or three words with Pluto and his Fraternity; bury me in a Coletta, or Buffe jacket, that Rapiers may no more hurt me.

How rawbon'd Death's with his black dart
Ready to pierce my Lions heart?
Alv.

Alas! Poor Nephew, he bleeds?

Prae.

Yet, Uncle, I will spite of his nose bequeath my moveables; First, to my seet Wise Varina I give all my Plate and Jewels; and to my Uncle all that I have in my Closet. viz. Two Holland Cheeses, three pound of Raisins Solis, &c. And to thee my servant Rubio, all that I have in my Pockets, as also the Handkercher wrought with Co­ventry blew, and my Needle-case and Thimble, &c. But good Rubio, pup my sneezing box with me into the Tomb, it will clear my eies.

Oh! I can speak no more, for now to Heav'n doth go

The Valiant soul of Don Praepontio.

(dies.)
Alo.
But where's my Neece? Varina! Oh! She's gone;
This is some cursed plot; let's in, and send
[...]oasts to way-lay them, e'er they take to Sea,
[Page 53]Dispatch out Hew and Cries; that may arrest them,
And bring them back to judgements bar. Hard fate!
What plagues of grief hang on my aged head,
And drop their vengeance on my hoary haires
In showers of blood? Was't not enough my daughter
Defam'd my Family by her goat-like lust;
But now my Neece, Varina must conspire
With Villaines to disgrace me? Could her baseness
No safety finde, but by her Husbands blood?
Rebellious Children! Know a Fathers hand
Provok'd, strikes hard; and though I do endure
Your faults a while, my vengeance shall strike sure.
Exeunt.
Heb.

Oh! My sweet Master. I am undone, I am undone, many an Ashwednesday and Goodfriday nights supper must my belly make; I was no sooner come from being an under-Scullion to be an under-Cooke; but now I must Crab-like crawle backward from being an under-Cooke to be an under-Scullion, or any thing! Oh, miserable! Well, I will go in, and fill my belly now, though I fast the longer afterwards; if fate has decreed that all the fat must be in the fire, it must be so; my belly must pray patience; I fear this next year will be nothing but Ember weeks.

Exit.

ACT. IV.

Scaen. 1.

Enter Chaves, Roderiguez, without disguise and swords drawn.
Cha.

CUrse on my fate!

Rod.
Have patience, Sir, we shall
Remove your grief too; or in streams of blood
We'll swim to our desires.
Enter Gaspar.
Cha.
O! Signior, Gaspar!
Why had not we your notice of this wedding?
Gas.
It was so closely carried, that my ears
Could ne'er be privy to't; what ailes my Master?
Why, Sir, so pensive? Fear not, Sir, my Mistris
Will love you still; but I do sound you come
To Butcher her new Bridegroom; Is't not so?
Cha.
Thy augury's most true; these swords but now
Reak'd in the streams of Don Praepontio's blood;
To help my Friend Rod'riguez to his Love.
Gas.

In troth the World's well rid of such a fool!

Cha.
And yet are thirsty; we must sail through blood
To our desired port; tell her [...]'ll drink
[Page 54]A health unto her in Picarro's gore;
I once did in obedience to her will,
Spare it, but 'twas by Fate reserv'd to be
Drawn empty now, and this enraged hand
Shall break the Conduit up; 'twill do me good:
In expectation here Ile wait, untill
I finde and kill him —
Gas.
No! don't kill him now:
Twere too unholy to prophane those rites,
Besides, he's arm'd with th'choisest of his friends,
That should you kill him, 'twere impossible
You should escape the aestrum of their fury,
Patience awhile, bridle your wrath, Ile plot
To do't more easie: Pray be pleasd.
Cha.
Thou wer't
Hatcht in a Pigeons nest, thou art so timerous
Tell us of murther, not of safety, rather
Let's study to create new ways to kill
Though to destroy the world; and so to be
Earths common Executioners; then that
He should enjoy and crop those blessed Roses.
Gasp.
What if he do? he has but what you left,
Hee'll prick his Fingers ere he pluck that rose;
Before to morrow night his Glass is run.
Pray, Sir, with draw, be sure on't.
Rod.

Good Sir, doe.

Cha.

Your counsell shall prevail.

Exeunt.
Gas.
So let them go, had this fresh Gamester entred
And kild Picarro; and her Father known
Twas he enjoy'd her, he would have procur'd
A pardon for him, and have giv'n him her,
So I'd been cozen'd, but I'm rid of all:
Balthazar kils Picarro, then himself
Suffers; Praepontio's kild by Chaves, whom
The Law for that fact strait shall apprehend,
And soon condemn as guilty; so not one
Is left to be an obstacle.
Enter Boy.
Boy.

Sir, my Master bids you not expect him, he'll not come.

Exit.
Gas.
He will not come? how now? He call them back:
Oh! that I were but registred the first
In Coxcombes catalogue, to place my hopes
On One, when others offerd to effect them.
Villains had need to see with Argus eyes,
They'll be most fools else, when they seem most wise.
Exit.

Scena secunda.

Enter Mariana and Catalina.
Cat.
FAith! Mistris do not grieve so, you do wrong
The beauty of your face; should your new husband
See this, he'ld grow suspitious; dry your eyes
For shame, 'ts a sin to weep in wedding shooes.
Ma.
Denude me of these gawdy garments, get
Funestal vestments for my new attire:
Lend me a book to pray on, and intreat
The Priest that married me; to com again;
I'd speak with him.
Cat.
Still in this moestfull tune;
You will not dye I'm sure?
Ma.
Pray, keep those flowers
To straw my Coffin with, and tell the Virgins
That came to grace my nuptials, I invite
Them to my Obsequies.
Cat.
Bless me! Mistris, better
Chaves were hang'd, then you should kill your self
For him, your husband is a proper man,
And for Sir Chaves, you may have him too,
Dye, quoth you, faith! that were a trick indeed;
Be merry, Mistris, come, you shall; this is
Your wedding day.
Ma:
My day of buriall call it;
For so it will be, I have lost the May,
The flower of Brides, my Virgin glory, and
I know, my husband hearing what has past
Twixt Balthasar and me, will be most curious
In searching; when as needs he must, he finds
Me for a Virgin thrust on him, to be
Not so, hee'll kill me.
Cat.
Is this all your fear?
Mercury water, or som Cypress berries
Will cozen th'cunningst searcher of them all.
Ma.
I must not trust it. Catalina, thou
Hast always lov'd me!
Cat.

Yes truly, Mistris.

Ma.

Thou wouldst be loath to see me murdered?

Cat.

Bless you, good Mistris!

Ma.

Thou art fair and young —

Cat.
Faith, reasonable; I've seen many a worse
Face in a Ladies habit, I'll assure you.
Ma.

And I dare say a Virgin—

Cat.
Yes, in truth,
The more's my grief.
Ma.
Wilt thou supply my room?
[Page 56]And be the Bride to my new husband?
Cat.
I
Would not, forsooth, lose my Virginity.
Ma:
Come, be not squeamish, when he is in bed
And th'Candle's out, then Ile frame an excuse
To rise, and thou shalt com into my place;
And after he's asleep, Ile come again.
Cat.
For your sake, Mistris, I will do't, and get
A drug to make him sleep.
Mar.
Doe, prithee doe.
'Tis late, about it.
Exit Catalina.
Enter Alonzo, Alvarez, Picarro.
Alo.
Son! you're beholding to the youth o'th' City,
In the solemnity of these your Nuptials,
They have procur'd a Masque, they stand without.
Enter Masque.
Balthazar sings,
I.
False and foolish are the toyes
Of Worldly joyes,
The Paphian Goddesse onely rules
Frantastick Fools:
Then why should I (simplicity!)
Thus doat upon her Deity.
Rursus:
2.
Woman is light as a feather,
Or the Weather:
More inconstant then the wind
Is her base mind:
Fickle still, can only be
Constant in inconstancy.
Rursus.
3.
The rose which pluckt I have refus'd,
Another choos'd:
Mars did hug Venus, Sir, yet she
Could satisfie
Black Mulciber. Your wife doth know
To draw Actaeon on your brow,
And make your Cornu-copia be
Triumphant to Eternitie.
Dance.
Pic.

This is a strange Epithalamium?

Alo.

'Tis a strange Song! and a far stranger dance!

Alv.

'Tis rare and new! it carries mystery with it.

Pic.

Who is the chief to whom we owe our thanks?

(Balthazar discovers himself.)
Bal.
'Tis I, Picarro! Sir, 'tis I, your Mistris
Knows me, I did provide this Masque on purpose
That you might know, how you are injured.
Pic.
Explain your Riddle, be our Oedipus,
W' are yet in darkness.
Bal.
[Page 59]
Thus, Sir, That old man
That led the woman, represents Deceit,
And she his daughter Lust; the next pair, he
On the right hand is Treachery, who lead
In me deciphering True Affection:
And the last couple which came after us,
The first of them is Wantonnesse, who pulls.
Lust from me, and doth give her to that person
Who signifies a Cuckold and a Fool.
You understand me!
Pic.
Tis a Paradox.
Bal.
Then know, your wife's a hatefull prostitute,
Her Father is a Villain, you a Cuckold.
I'll say no more.
Pic.
You've said enough already
To seale you to damnation.
(Drawes)
Ma.
O Sir, stay,
Give Losers leave to speak: his fury moves him
To be thus passionate.
Pic.
But that I will not
Stain with your blood my Nuptials, you should know
How false your tale is: but there's other times
To meet with you.
Bal.
I shall be ready when
You please to call me.
Exit Masque.
Alv.
It is strange me thinks
That Balthazar should be so spitefull, Brother:
This must not passe thus.
Pic.
No! I shall hereafter
Have vengeance.
Ma.
He deserves ten thousand deaths
For such a wrong.
Alo.

What muse you on, Sir; Ha!

Pic.
Balthazar, Sir, has always been a man
Of good esteem, I marvell he should raise
Without occasion, such a calumny.
(Mariana swouns)
Alo.

O! help my daughter!

Alv.

Hold her, else she falls!

Pic.
Heav'ns showre down Balm to cure her, or let loose
Some blasting lightning, that may seare me up
Till I convert to ashes: see, her breath
In little streaks flies from her, to make sweet
Death with its pretious flavor; send for hither
Those curious men that strive to give new life
To Carcasses, those that do spend their studies
In Image-making; let them here receive
A perfect patern, afterwards to cut
All womens Marbles by.
Alo.
[Page 58]

There's life! there's life!

Pic.
She beautifies uncomly death! Might she
Remain thus uncorrupted, she would make
A Statue passing all the Alabasters
We can erect, in memory of her name.
Ma.

Oh! Oh!

Pic.
That breaks her heart-strings! Blessed Saint!
Fly not so fast, sweet soul; I'll rob the Turtle
Of his swift wings, but I'll o'retake thee, that
In thy society I may mount to yonder
Celestiall region, for thy sake they will not
Deny admission; the Saints are rimerous
To lose their mansions; for her merit asks
A Crown above a Martyrs.
Alo.

Sonne!

Pic.
Behold!
Her spotlesse soul attir'd in white, ascends
In a clear Chariot, drawn by virgins: strait
I come, stand off.
He offers to make unready)
Alv.

She will recover:

Pic.
Yes!
When she's among her fellow-Angels, then
She may recover life, a glorious essence
Due to her goodness; Earth was too unworthy
To beare so rare a jewell, fitter farre
For Heav'ns rich wearing; yet you have done well
A while to stay me, while I steale a blessing
From those pure lips; though they are cold, one kisse
From them will glut me; which delight hath equall
To that she's gone to.
(he kisses her)
Alo.

Her eyes open.

Pic.
Look,
The Torches fade at such a brightnesse, surely
In this short trance sh'as lost that little remnant
She had of human essence; and 's become
Wholly immortall, and deserves our knees.
(he kneels)
Why gaze you on me? is't not just? A saint
Merits this honor.
Ma.
You all hate me; why
Did you recall my spirits from the blisse
They almost had attain'd to?
Pic.
I'll support thee,
And if thou fall'st, my arm shall keep the earth
From touching thee; 'twill grow too proud to bear
So rich a burden.
Ma.
O Picarro! I
Had thought you'd had a better faith in me,
Then to grow jealous at the false report
[Page 59]Of a base man; I will not live to have you
Deem so ignobly of me.
Pic.
Were this breast
Arm'd with th'obdurate shels of Tortoyses;
Or mal'd with s [...]les of Dolphins, I would force
A passage into't, that you might behold
Each thought that's there, if any one but savour
Of jealousie, then utterly detest me;
But I will make this slave an expiation,
A very Anathema for this injury
Which he hath with such impudence aver'd
Against thy honor.
(Enter Catalina with bottles and glasses.)
Ma.
I believe you, Sir.
Fill me a bowle of water, I'll begin
Your Nuptiall health.
Pic.
Let it be wine I'll drink't.
Wer't liquid metall.
Mar.

Father-in-law, to you.

Alv.

Brother, to you.

Alo.
Son, to you; and may she
Be made a mother by you.
Ma.

Catalina.

(Whispers.
Cat.

I've done.

Pic.
Come! Fill it till it over-flow,
Or bring a bigger glasse.
Ma.

'Tis needlesse, Sir.

Pic.

He that denies to pledge't, I'll flit his wezand.

Alv.
Alonzo, it growes late, 'tis time the Bride
Had put the Torches out; we'll see her bedded.
Pic.
I doe preferre the pleasures of this night
Before all treasures, or the earths delight.
Exeunt.

Scaena tertia.

Enter Chaves, Roderiguez, Gaspar, with a Torch.
Cha.
Is't possible he should be gone so soon
To bed? 'Tis yet scarce ten a clock.
Rod.
O Gaspar!
Lend me thy Torch, by heav'ns me thinks 'twere easie
To set the House on fire, and burn the villain
In her embraces.
Gas.

So you'ld burn her too!

Cha.
Faith! not much matter, since I left her, all
My Ice is turn'd to Marble, could I not
Borrow yon star for one halfe houre, and cast it
Like to a ball of wild-fire through yon hole,
To make the chamber hotter? Were't not pretty
If from the top of yonder Pyramid
[Page 58]I could embrace the Moon, and pull her from
Her watry sphears, to sindge their plumes? Say friend,
May I not doe it?
Rod.
What strange temper's this?
His mind runs on the Moon, What? Lunatick?
Cha.
Look where the death-full Owle flies: Heark, her wings
Flask in the aire, t'invite the Dawes that nest
In yon tall steeple to deride me: is there
No heat in nature left? Am I converted
So soon to water? Yet my eyes are dry.
They cannot weep a flood, sufficient
For a new generall Deluge: Look! I quake
Like to a frosty Polander, when wrapt
In Iron sheets, he layes him down a man,
O're night in th'Field, and in the morning rises
A Cake of Ice, or Snow-ball. Is't not cold?
My limbs do play on th'Organs.
Gas.
'Tis your fancy:
You're passionatly mad.
Cha.
I do not vvalk yet —
Bare, vvith a long Horn arm'd, nor kisse the dust
With naked feet; but I vvill learn, these garments
Are very ponderous: vvhen I've rent them off,
I shall begin to be a Bedlam.
Rod.
Gaspar,
Prithee perswade him.
Gas.
Sir, you do conceit
Because your project mist to night, your love
Is lost for ever; do not so, to morrow
We'l have a night as opportune as this,
To kill her husband.
Cha.
Yes, if he vvould die,
When vve do vvish him dead, or could our eyes
Kill him, and never look upon him; so
I doe believe he might be slain, but else —
Gas.
Heare me a little, if I do not show
A vvay to kill him —
Cha.
That's an easie thing:
Levell a Canon at him, blow him up
With Gunpowder.
Gas.
But heare me, Sir, to morrow
You and your friend, vvith others I'll procure,
In strange disguises shall present your selves
There in a Masque; I'll tell you are my friends,
And in the Dance one of the men I'll hire
Shall kill him; you shall not be touch't in this.
How like you't, Sir, is't not a good conceit?
Cha.
Good, very good, could my deeds but effect
[Page 63]What you have spoken— but I fear he has
Some charms about him, steele nor poyson will
Enter his body: so 'ts impossible;
That what you here advise can e're be done.
Gas.

Yes! fear not, Sir, I'll visit you to morrow.

Cha.

Do, and forget not what you promise now.

Rod.
His care and vigilance is far beyond
Our thoughts.
Cha.

Then let him glut himself to night.

Gas.
It surely, Sir, shall be his last good night:
Men may shun publick, but not privat spight:
Exeunt.

Scena Quarta.

Enter Mariana, Catalina.
Ma.
Come! thou'rt a wily strumpet; faith! thou didst
Excellent well! but not one word: I'll goe
And dress me; —
Exit.
Enter Picarro.
Pic.
Sure I have drunk the blood of scorpions,
Suckt mandrakes juice or henbane seed, my heart
Is almost hurnt to ashes: Catalina,
Fetch me some water.
Cat.

Here's some ready Sir.

Pic.
Give me another cup, I hate that bowle:
'Twas that I drank last night in: was't not you
Fill'd me the wine?
Cat.

It was.

Pic.

Was nothing in't?

Cat.

Nothing, but wine and sugar, Sir.

Pic.

What's this?

Cat.
Some of the sugar spilt on th' side of th' cup:
I'll wipe it off.
Pic.
Stay, is this sugar, minion?
I've found you out, you're hir'd to poyson me:
This is a drug, speak quickly, say by whom
Or perish.
Cat.
O good Sir! if I had thought
I should have had no better a requitall,
I'ld not have been so kinde.
Pic.
So kinde? as how?
Be brief, or this shall spoile your utterance.
Cat.

A Maidenhead deserves more favour, Sir.

Pic.

Impudent divell! who'd to do with that?

Cat.

Last night you had it, Sir.

Pic.

Dye, Monster!

(goes to kill her)
Cat.

Hold, Sir, for Heav'ns sake! I confess, my Mistress —

Pic.

What of my Love?

Cat.
[Page 62]
To say truth, Sir, she hir'd me
To give y' a sleepy potion, having lost
The blossome of her honour, she procur'd
Me to supply her place, and laid me by you.
Pic.
But is this truth? ha! whore!
(Pulls out Mariana)
Egregious strumpet, was it not sufficient
To make me be the pack horse of thy lust;
The common father to thy odious fry:
The loathsome compound of laciviousness
Thou hast within thee? but thou must betray
My chaste embraces to the sinfull arms
Of a foul harlot, on that sacred night
When I was full with hopes of the reward
Of my true love: ask mercy quickly; pray,
For I will kill thee.
Ma.
Holy Angels guard me!
What mean you dear Picarro? Heav'ns and Saints
Help, as I'm guiltless.
Pic.
Guiltless? so's the Devil;
A plague upon this curst effeminate sex!
Would curses wound as doth the Mandrakes groan,
I would invent as bitter searching tearms,
As curst, as harsh, as horrible to hear
As lean-fac'd envy in her loathsome Cave;
My tongue should stumble in my earnest words,
My eyes should sparkle like the beaten flint,
My hair be fixt an end, as one distract,
Yea, every joynt should seem to curse and ban;
Oh! I could thunder out a Volley of Curses,
A rapsody of banefull execrations!
(He turns aside)
Ma.
What? dost thou turn away, and hide thy face;
I am no loathsome Leaper, look on me;
What? art thou like the Adder waxen deaf?
Be poys'nous too, and kill thy forlorn spouse.
Pic.
Thou hast a place about thee, where the furies
Take up their mansion; I do know, thy eyes
Can with false tears outvy the Crocodile:
Thy tongue can altercate more several notes,
Then the Hyaena's, and can sweetly charm
As doth a Syren, warble forth as sweet
Notes as a Philomel: 'tis bootless now
To seeke to palliate thy Crimes, thy partner
Reveal'd it all: repent, and do it quickly:
Or [...] damn'd, I care not.
Ma.

Must I die?

Pic.
[...] [...]ould, though Queens upon their knees in tears
[...] pardon, Saints implore thy life,
[...] [...]ot save it: canst thou nourish hopes
[Page 63]Of ought but death, when thy inhumane Acts
Tell thee thou hast deserv'd to suffer for them
More then eternall tortures?
Ma.
O Picarro!
Remember what I am, not what I have been,
I'm now your wife; Sir, if I have been tempted
To that Venerean sin: 'twas e're religion
Had made me yours: you were not injur'd by it,
And though for fear of being discover'd, I
Did thrust this hapless maid into your bed,
Though't be a fault, that well might merit death,
Damne me not for it: give me leave to make
My peace with Heav'n, and then I'll yeild to die:
Thank you to kill me.
Pic.
If I let her talk
A little longer, she'll perswade me: come,
Hold up your hands for mercy, make short praiers,
And this shall say Amen unto them, pray —
(Holds up his Sword)
Ma.
Since your stern rage will not permit you hear
A word of mercy: for your own sake do not
Draw double vengeance on your self: poor Girl,
'Twas I that caus'd her sin: a twofold murder
Will lie too heavy on you.
Pic.
Sure my hand
Has got the Palsey: yet before thou dy'st,
Discharge thy conscience of one crime: thy soul
Will be the lighter: tell me this, what Fiend?
What Devill in humane shape? for man would never
Have tempted thee to sin, 'twas that betraid,
Thee to his Lust?
Ma.
I'm sure you've heard my Father
Contracted me to Balthasar.
Pic.

What then?

Ma.
Thinking that he should have been married to me,
I let him have my honour, little dreaming
Of what has happened since: remember once
I sav'd your life, for that good turn afford
A little Leisure.
Pic.
Mariana, since
Thou art dishonest, 'tis impossible
Vertue should rest in women: sure some Saint
Of your deceitfull sex has fled to Heav'n
With all your women-vertues: otherwise
Thou'dst had a share in't.
(Offers to strike)
Ma.
E're you strike, one word
E're I be silent ever: there must come
A day, when you must dye too, when your faults
Must be ript up, as mine are now: and then
[Page 62]You'll finde it written in your Conscience-book,
As first and greatest of your sins, that you
Not only were a parricide, but that
You damn'd a soul too, which will be requir'd
Of your poor Ghost: then that will quake to see
Me wrapt in flames, when it remembers how
Your anger caus'd it: rather shut us up
Poor Recluses in some strict Monastery,
Where we may weep, till in our tears we swim
To mercy, with our praiers beg heav'ns to showre
Their blessings on you.
Pic.
I will have a Cave,
A darksome Spelunk in some Wilderness,
Where never grass grew, where the balefull tops
Of Yew and Cypress banish Titans light,
Where never harmless bird nor beast doth live
For the foul Airs infection, where the howles
Of wolves and goats (such as your selves are) shall
Joyn'd with the screech owles and the ravens notes
Make but harsh Musick to you, all that's there
Shall be an Emblem of that Stygian Grove
You both deserve to enter.
Mar.
Ought but death
So ne're so horrid.
Enter Gaspar.
Gas.
How now? is the wind
In this doore? what? is she discovered?
Pic.
Fly hence, who e're thou art, if thou wilt save
Thy soul from spilling, but yet stay, thou art
(If any good be on the earth) an honest
Plain-dealing man, thou told'st me that, which now
I finde too true: but I rejected thee,
Now to my woe I rue it.
Gas.
Las! Sir! I
(Aside with Picarro)
Was griev'd to see a man of your true worth
So basely cozen'd, to be cast away
On such a Mammet: why? that very hour,
That luckless hour you came here, I had found
Her whoredome out: she was but thrust on you,
When all refus'd her: Me(poor man!) her Father
Tempted with gold, did vow her, and when I,
(Because I knevv she vvas a vvhore) rejected
His urged proffer: he resolv'd to vail her
A Nun, but that your coming did prevent it:
To your undoing,
Pic.
Knevv her father then,
That she vvas false?
Gas.
Knevv he? it vvas his plot —
'Gainst my persvvasions (Heav'ns they knovv) to vvrong
[Page 65]Your noble self, and I for love to vertue
Would then have told you, what you know not, but
You deem'd me frantick: I could weep an Ocean
To think how you, Sir, are by them deluded,
But 'twas your fortune, 'tis past help.
Pic.
I prithee
Go to the sacred Church, and bid the Sexton
Evacuate the vaults and monuments
Of the old bones that many years have kept
Their rotten habitation there; and bid him
Make the Church-yard one sepulchre: I'll bring
Bodies enough to fill them; not the plague
Shall be more pestilent, then my vengeance.
Gas.
Sir,
You've found me true to you, and since my Master
Could be ignoble, Justice and the zeal
I ow to goodness, urges me to aid
You in revenge: Let it be thus.
Pic.

As how?

Gas.
I came to you now to crave license, that
At night I might have brought a masque to grace
Your Festivall: Let it go on, I'll hire
Men in the Masque to kill her, force her Father
That he may see his errour.
Pic.

Kill him too.

Gas.

I, Sir, what else!

Pic.
'Twas Balthasar she serv'd.
What time of day is't Gaspar?
Gas.
Early yet,
Near seaven a clock.
Pic.
My business calls away;
You will not fail at night.
Gas.

Question't no more.

Pic.
Mean time be sure that none, good Gaspar, speak
With these base strumpets, let none have access.
Exit.
Gas.
No! not the wind, Cousin, poor Cousin, had you
Not better have had me then these rude Ruffions?
There s no way now but death.
Ma.
O! Cousin, yet
When I behold thee, I can fear no peril:
I know thou'lt save me.
Gas.
'T may be so, but what
Would you do for him, that should save you?
Ma.

Any thing.

Gas.
Though many that receive such injuries
As I have done, would be more prone to vengeance,
Then mercy: yet if you will love me, Cousin,
I'll save your life, and kill this same Picarro.
Mar.

Do it, and by this hand I'll marry thee.

Gas.
[Page 66]

By this same kiss I will, before your maid!

Gas.

I, Gaspar, save our lives, and marry us both.

Gas.
Keep close your Conclave, stir not out, I'll plot
A means to save you: th' plot is in my brain.
Exit.
Ma.
We are alive yet, Catalina, Women
May sometimes overreach the archest villains:
Gaspar, I'll fit you: you may chance expire
Before us: Scorcht men use to shun the fire.
Exeunt.

ACT 5.

SCENE 1.

Enter Roderiguez and Priest.
Pri.
SO smile the Heav'ns upon this holy Act,
That future houres with sorrow chides us not:
Rod.
Amen! Amen! but come what sorrow can,
It cannot countervail the exchange of Joy,
Do then but close our hands with sacred words:
Then Love-devouring death do what he dare:
It is enough, that I but call her mine.
Pri.
These violent delights have violent ends:
And in their triumph die like fire and powder,
Which, as they kiss, consume: the sweetest honey
Is loathsome in its own deliciousness,
And in the taste, confounds the appetite:
Therefore love moderately, long love doth so,
Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.
Enter Varina.
Is this the Lady? Oh! so light a foot
Will ne're wear out the flint, or bruise the street,
A Lover may bestride the Gossameres,
That idle in the wanton Summer-air:
And yet not fall: so light is vanity.
Var.

Good even to my Ghostly Father!

Pri.
Daughter,
Thy spouse shall give thee thanks here for us both.
Var.

As much to him, else is his thanks too much.

Rod.
Varina, if the measure of thy joy
Be heap'd like mine, and that thy skill be more
To blason it, then sweeten with thy breath
This neighbour Aire, and let rich Musicks tongue
Unfold th' imagin'd happiness, that both
Receive in either by this dear encounter.
(Kisses her)
Var.
Conceit more rich in matter, then in words
[Page 67]Brags of his substance, not of Ornament,
They are but beggers that can count their worth:
But my true Love is grown to such excess,
I cannot sum the sum of half my wealth.
Pri.
Come! come with me, and holy rites shall give
A fiat to your Love: I'll joyne those hands
(As you have done your hearts) in Hymens bands.
Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Eugenia, Balthasar.
Eug.
This is his lodging, I believe, he's scarse
Out of his bed yet: walk, Sir, down the lane,
While I go in, and train him out: but then
Be sure you do dispatch him: least he wound you,
And grown enraged with some petty scratch
Shread your subdued Carcass into mamocks:
You know his voice? I [...]ll go.
Exit.
Bal.

Be expedite.

Enter Picarro, drawn.
Pic.
This way he went, they told me: Well o'retaken:
Were you at prayers, or at confession lately?
Bal.

Why Sir, I hope you are no Priest, Picarro?

Pic.
I must be yours, I come to shread your corps:
And send it minc'd to Pluto's balefull table:
Bal.
You're welcome, Sir, but say, I play the Butcher,
(Drawes)
Strike you down first, and ripping up your offall,
Should throw them to Diana's yelping troops?
I know your quarrel.
(Picarro runs at him, Balth. falls)
Pic.
Gramercy hand! I've plaid the Butcher now:
And fell'd the Beast: procumbit humi bos!
While thou hast sense left, cry for mercy, think,
Think what a horrid, sacrilegious sin
Thou hast committed: doth not thy soul tell thee
(Now when thy faults appear) that thou art damn'd?
Without redemption?
Bal.
I hope not, as yet
Can't I remember what I've injured you in:
That you should take my life; my last nights act
Was nought but truth.
Pic.
I know that, but 'twas thou
That hadst her honour, that bereav'dst her of
Her virgin purity: and when thou shedst
For all thy Crimes one drop, for this weep seas:
They'll scarse wash white thy spotted soul again.
Bal.

Did Mariana tell you this?

Pic.
Thy conscience
Tells thee that this is truth.
Bal.
[Page 68]
It is not truth.
Trust me now dying, she's as chast, as she
Was born for me, it is one Chaves, that
I did stand here to kill; he whor'd her: O!
(dies)
Pic.
Some Angel keep thy soul in, till, thy tongue
Reveal that villain, Chaves? he's a stranger,
I know him not: you'll glory, faithless Mistress!
That you have made me kill your enemy:
My friend, that stood to right me: but that Chaves,
I'll finde him out, though he were hid in mists,
And quarter'd in the Clouds, my searching eye
Shall make a quick discovery, and inroll
Him in the list of my engaged foes;
But in this labyrinth I'll have a Clue
To guide my steps unto his finall fall.
Enter Catalina as a Mistress Disguised.
Mariana as a Servant. Disguised.
Some friendly whirlwind hurle me hence with speed,
Into some desart wilderness, which woman
Yet ne're polluted with her steps; — they fly me:
Good creatures, stay! forgive me: sure this tongue
Has injur'd you: good? (can that adjunct be
Fit for a woman): if you know your selves
Bankrupt of female vices, to be heirs
Of your lost sexes goodness: pray, you tell me,
And I'll adore you with that reverence,
I would do Saints, be proud to say hereafter,
I met two virtuous women.
Cat.
Surely Sir,
You have receiv'd some monstrous injury
From woman; makes you out of charity
With all that sex; yet be not so, your mother
Was but a woman.
Pic.
Very true, you seem
Indu'd with sense; had you but known the wrong
I have receiv'd from one, that should have been
More honest: you will then, I know, confess,
I speak not without cause.
Cat.

You're married, Sir?

Pic.

Yes!

Cat.
And it is your wife has injur'd you?
But tell me, did you love her?
Pic,
Just as you've seen the Ivy cleave to th' Oak,
Or hony-bearing Woodbine to the Thorns,
So dear she was to me.
Cat.
And can that fact,
How foul soever, change that love into
[Page 69]So dire a hatred? Look but on the King
Of beasts, the Lion, when his Lioness
Sins with the Leopard; though he storm, yet when
Sh'as washt her self, he strait forgets it: sure
Your wife has washt her spotted soul in tears
For her delict, take pitty on her: I,
Although a stranger, must perswade you.
Pic.
Sooner
To set the world on fire, then to forget
Her faults.
Cat.
I knew a damosel once, both young
And beauteous, that offended, she was wed,
And e'er her Nuptials had been false.
Pic.
My wife:
Sure't was my wife.
Cat.
Nay, more: to cloke her fault
She got another to supply her room
On th' wedding night.
Pic.
You know our story: sure't
Could be none else but she.
Cat.
And yet her husband,
Pittying her youth, did pardon her.
Pic.
A man,
Moulded of patience, or of baseness, but
What did she then?
Cat.
Why? He immur'd her up
In an observant Nunnery, to pay
The tribute of her sin with Penitence;
And she's a convert now: do so, when next
You see your wife, take that good course, and do not
Damn her and your self too!
Pic.
Alas! My wife
Committed more then this, for when her throat
Was underneath my sword; she fear'd not then
To irritate Heav'ns vengeance with a lie,
A wond'rous lie, you see yon Gentleman.
Cat.

Yes, what of him?

Pic.
That injur'd man, she told me
Was he, that had enjoy'd her, made me kill him,
And yet Heav'ns justice, gave his dying lips
Leave to reveal her partner.
Cat.

Know you him?

Pic.

His name is Chaves!

Cat.

Chaves?

Pic.
Judge you Mistris:
Merits she not a Chiliad of deaths?
Mar.

Her own tongue, Sir, shall be her judge; she does.

(discovers)
Pic.
What's Pluto's gates blown ope, and Cerberus gone?
[Page 70]How came these Harpies?
Mar.
I have run, Picarro,
A weary race in sin, and the last post
Being almost mine, I falter; I have stoln
Forth of my Chamber, with intent to leave
Your loathed sight for ever: to have fled
With my lov'd Chaves hence; but that your words,
Thought of my sin, the fear of Dis and vengeance
Has made a convert of me; kill me now:
I die repentant.
Pic.
Since thou ask'st thy death,
I will not be so cruel, thou shalt live
To be my pitties Trophee: could I pardon
Thy fault, would you be honest?
Mar.
O, Sir, do not
Make a poore contrite, now more miserable,
My life's to me grown odious: Sir, your thoughts
Run on my slaughter, but my minde's on Heav'n:
Aver it not, one word of life may hinder
My resolution: you have seen the palm
(That sweet date-bearing tree) hang down its head
(As't were to beg an Ax) toward the Earth,
To cut it up, when void of fruit and moisture
It seems a scorn unto its neighbour trees:
Of me 'tis a true Embleme, I have lost
My fruit of Vertue, am become the shame
Of womanhood: do justice, rid the Earth
Of such an impious burden.
Pic.
Wretched soul!
Thou shalt not die.
Mar.

I do desire it.

Pic.
Come!
Take up your vail, and follow me.
Mar.

To death.

Pic.
Yes! Mariana, die upon his Course
( brings her to Balthazar:)
Thou mad'st me murther.
(stabs her.)
Mar.
One stab more: so now
Methinks I'm well, lend we your praiers, and shed
A tear for me, Picarro!
Pic.
Yes! I'll help
T'imbalm thy Corps with my salt drops: but now
Since thou art dying, for the love I bore thee
While I did think thee virtuous: discharge
Thy soul of such a Ponderous crime, reveal
That Chaves to me.
Mar.
No, I must not, Jove
Will be incenst against me more in peace
With all I'll yeeld this little puff of breath;
[Page 71]This flash of air, my life, to th' hands of death:
Him I forgive that most hath wrong'd you, yet
That you shall know, you are beholding to him;
'Tis he that saved your life at my request:
My blood converts to jelly, I am cold
As Mrable-dew within: my minute comes,
Close my poor eies, Picarro, say I die
A penitent, that's all. Oh!
(begins to die)
Pic.
Receive her, Saints,
To your society: how sweet she looks?
She's yet alive.
Cat.

O no! Her breath is gone

(weeps)
Pic.
Surely she is, it cannot be such beauty
Should rest in a cold Carcass: I could wish
It were undone; or that my hand had been
Blasted, e'er it had struck her: hadst thou carried
Vertue in this fair mansion, thou hadst made me
Too happy! —
( Offers to kill Catalina.)
Cat.

Sir, you will not kill me too?

Pic.
No! I have done enough, yet more blood must
Follow: help, take her off the sordid Earth,
Too good to bear her, and then bear her in:
Be private as the night is.
Exit.
Cat.

I will, Sir.

Mar.
So, is he gone? This Catalina I
Have done to purchase my enfranchisement:
Infuse some balsame to my bleeding wounds,
Distill'd by some divine Paeonian hand:
And now, Picarro, will I seek thy death,
And unto Chaves plot a quick escape:
Then to the Church or Chappel we will hit
To make compleat our wisht felicity.
Exeunt.

Scena Tertia.

Enter Eugenia: Chaves.
Eug.
A little further, Sir, I left him: Master,
Here's Signior Chaves. Heav'ns protect me, see
My Master's slain.
Cha.

By whom?

Eug.
I know not, Sir:
I'm by this reason destitute of means
To helpe me, here a stranger: please you, Sir,
To grace me with employment: I should study
To do you faithful service.
Cha.
Friend, I care no,
And if I do.
Enter Roderiguez.
Rod:
[Page 72]
Sir, I am now arriv'd
At my long wisht for port of bliss and wealth;
The holy rites are done; she is my own;
It is the greatest now of my misfortune,
That yours laggs still behinde.
Cha:
Our love returns
Thanks to your wish: Heav'ns crown your love with joy;
Long live in peace and bliss; and may your issue
Puzzle Arithmetick to number them;
Accept my thoughts, good friend, they're good, though they
Tumble from my distracted brain; if ought
Can add unto thy happiness, but wish it,
And my affection shall cry Amen!
Rod.
Your love commands my duty to return
Whole Floods of thanks; your wish is so compleat
'T needs no addition. Sir, what fellow's that?
May he be conscious to our secrecies?
Cha.

Yes! He is trusty, 'tis an honest fellow.

Rod.
Gaspar has been with me, and full of tears
Told me, since last night w'are discovered;
Your Mistriss had run her lives hazard, had not
Gaspar—
Cha.
Reliev'd her, is't not so? That fellow
Was born to do me good.
Rod.
Her jealous spouse
Perceiving that she did affect some other,
Had slain her, had not she begg'd life till night,
And then we in our Masque must kill him.
Cha.
Brave!
Excellent! 'Tis beyond imagination;
Come, let us in and make us ready.
Exeunt.
Eug.
Well!
I'll wing my feet, until my zeal can finde
Picarro out, and unto him reveal
My Masters secrets; save his life, and then
He will kill Chaves; so I shall revenge
His (slighted) perjury; and if I live
Chaves shall die, my brother I'll forgive.
Exeunt.

Scena Quarta.

Enter Gaspar and Varlots.
Gas.
Come, come! My noble Lads! The time grows on,
The Masquers will come by and by; here hold!
There's 40. Duckets; spare you no mans life
I bid you kill.
Var.

I warrant you, Sir, we are old dog at it, they die if they had Cats lives.

Cas.
Well said my Trojans! I shall live to make
You walk the streets in Velvet, Plush, and Scarlet;
[Page 73]Fye! on th' Dutch serges and these fustian doublets;
Men of your quality to walk in such
Vulgar accoutrements?
Varl.
We are Souldiers, Sir.
Gas.
I'll have you all made Captains, go behind:
And when I hem, be nimble as the Eeles:
Away my bullies.
Enter Picarro.
Pic.
tell me treach'rous Gaspar!
What evil have I merited of you,
That you should be so perjur'd as to plot
My ruine purposely to free that Strumpet?
Should it be true, I might well stile thee villain:
I scarce believe it.
Gas.
'Tis a lye beyond
The Devils forging, think Sir, had my heart
Been so malitious, I would have appear'd
Again before you? you may easily see
The motive of their feigning this in hopes
By blaming me to save themselves, to make you
Beholding to them for the dear engagement
Of freeing you from danger, more for spite
That I love you and hate them: they imagin'd
Thus to betray me to your rage: receive
Dear Sir, my weapon, if you can conceit
That I can be so impious, kill me, do it
I do beseech you.
Pic.
I should first conceive
All false and base before thy loyalty:
Thou hast been alwaies honest true, to me.
Gas.

Villany't selfe would not deceive your goodnesse:

Enter Engenia.
Eug.

Is not one Signior Gaspar here?

Gas.
He's here;
What would you friend?
Eug.
My Master, Signior Chaves
Commends him greatly to you, and desires
To speake one word with you.
Pic.

Chaves? what's he?

Gas.

One of the Masquers.

Eug.
Though a stranger to you,
Because I see you are a Gentleman;
I'll save your life: know Cozen'd man, the masque
Is nothing but a dance unto your death:
That Gaspar has betraid you to that Chaves
That whor'd your wife: he doth expect without,
To kill you: 'tis enough, farewel, be wise
Exit.
Pic.
Thou now art grown to that vast height in sin,
That Dis would gape and swallow thee, but that
[Page 74]The prime Fiends feare that thy vile treachery
(Shouldst thou come thither) would so farre out-shine
As doth Hyperion in his fullest Orb,
The smallest Pleiad; so they should not be
Respected 'mong th'infernal Regiments.
Thy crafts are now disclos'd thy faults ript up.
I'll send thee strait with a deserved doom,
To keep society with the Harpyan troops,
And Fiends of that Tartarian Republick.
Gas.
Still you're so credulous; just Judges use
E're they condemne, to heare both parties speak;
I understanding Chaves to have wrong'd
You in your wife, that you might vendicate
The highest stile in vengeance-book, I went
And told him all, he has related, promised
You should be slain: but this was my intent,
Onely to train him hither to his death,
That as they both had sin'd, they both might suffer
Vengeance together.
Pic.
Why knew I not this?
Gas.
'Twas my intent you should have known't, he only
Anticipated my relation.
That you should know, I lie not—hem! hem!
(varlets appear)
Pic.

What are these?

Gas.
Why these are they I hir'd to do the act,
To send them both to hell: tell me, my lads
Of steele, did I not swear you to decide
One Chaves into Atoms?
Var.

Yes! sound truth!

Gas.

And whom 't should please Picarro to command?

Var.

Yes! on our honest words!

Gas.
Lo! here comes Chaves masqued-hem!
Enter Chaves masqued
There stand the men Picarro, that must kill him.
(varlets wound)
Cha.
Treason! I'm murdred, yet scorn to perish.
Unvengeanc'd, you shall know I have a spirit.
(offers to draw.)
Eugenia's curses hang upon my arm,
Or Virgins teares have glu'd my sword so fast,
I can't unsheath it: Oh! my strength decays.
(falls)
Tremble not earth that thou must bear me, see
Engenia waited on by glorious Troops
Of constant lovers, comes t'upbraid me with
My perjury, but I'll not hear it. Oh!
(dies.)
Gas.
O Sir, you thought you could defloure our virgins
Without revenge, in Balthasar's destruction
You did triumph; and you have slain Picarro;
Look! he lies weltring in his gore; I hope
You'll pay me nobly for betraying him?
You shall enjoy your Mistress I she expects
[Page 75]Within your presence!
Enter Roderiguez masqued.
Rod.
Ha! Picarro slain?
(stumbles at Chaves.)
My zeale has been too tardy; I have lost
My share of honor in this noble act.
(looks and sees 'tis Chaves)
Heav'ns blesse me, where's that villain that durst draw
This noble blood? villain this hand shal be
(draws & running at Gas­par is stabd by varlets)
Thy Executioner! Treason! 's hell broke loose?
Has Pluto sent these Bandogs out? yet take
(runs at Gaspar.)
One thrust from my revengefull arm, 'twill make
Some expiation for my noble friend,
And these my wounds! Alas! my hand's grown weak,
Yet will I lay me by his noble corps,
(he falls)
We'll brethren be in death: and know our Ghosts
Shall make you run distracted! poore Varina!
As my last pledge of love, in streams of blood
Dropt from my own veins, will I drink thy health:
Farewell my Deare; may heav'n commiserate
Thy sadnesse, and protect thee. Oh!
(Dies)
Pic.
'S This he
That stole Varina to his lust?
Gas.
'Tis he,
'Tis Roderiguez, Chaves his Comrade
In all his villanies; 'tis he that slew
Praepontio at his wedding, and convey'd
Varina to her ruine, and his lust.
This Lady is a stranger
Enter Eugenia in her own dresse, finds
Eug.
May mine eye
Chaves dead, goes to his corps.
Now see the ruine of this perjur'd villain!
Now my disguise is uselesse, Heav'n hath own'd
My cause at length, and its due vengeance showr'd
Upon his perjur'd head; Heav'ns plagues are sure.
Perfidious Chaves,
That curst hand that helpt
Thee to fulfill thy lust, now work't thy fall:
Balthasar's death, Picarro's wrong is now
Retaliate in this thy ruine: but stay,
Some vengeance fall from my provoked hand;
stabs him with a bod­kin,
Eugenia gives thee this, and this; nay take
One more for her account, perfidious slave!
As if thy perjury could not wrong enough
Eugenia, and the honor of our house;
Thou must seduce my brother to thy part,
Make him copartner in thy crimes; for him,
For Roderiguez sake, I'll give thee this:
(stabs him)
Nor shall my Fathers griefe unpunisht goe;
One stab for him: me thinks my rage now sits
Triumphant in her element; while I
Feed it with wounds, and make his blood repay
[Page 76]Both principall and Interest of my tears!
We thank you Gaspar, and Picarro both,
For this our bloudy banquet. He! who's this?
(Sees her brother)
My brother! Cursed villains! who durst be
So cruel a Phlebotomist, to strike
One vein of his? dear brother! might I fetch
Prometheus-like, new fire from th' heav'nly axell
To put in this pure Carcass: could my breath
Infuse new life into thee, I would lay
My self upon thy lips, and kiss, till all
My vigours transmigrated into thee:
But since the heav'ns are deaf, and death will deigne
No audience to my wish, thy sister shall
(tabs her self)
Lay her thy Bedfellow: and with one stroke
In Crimson-streams swim with thee unto bliss. Oh!
(dies)
Gas.
More objects still of ruine? this will be
A bloudy Poppet-play: —
Enter Varina
Vari.
This way he went.
Now fortune do thy worst, I scorn thy frown,
Deride at those contractions on thy brow:
Speak louder with thy threats, and spare not me,
Varina now will live in spight of thee.
Gas.
Varina! welcome home, Ged give you joy:
Faith! 'tis not handsome thus to steal a wedding:
When shall I have my Gloves? Picarro, see!
Varina bids you joy.
Pic.

She claims my thanks.

Var.

Saw you my husband lately, Cousin?

Gas.
There!
There he's in bed with Chaves.
(She swounds and dies)
Pic.

Help, she falls!

Gas.
Faith 'tis no matter: this is she, whose skill
Helpt Chaves to his Mistress; and so fool'd
Balthasar of his hopes: it was her Counsell
Betraid poor Mariana; 'twas her head
That forged all the plots against your honour.
Pic.
Excellent Gaspar! do see thou'rt honest!
Above all malice, thou shalt share estates
With me, thou dost deserve it, friend.
Gas.
All this
I've done for you, illustrious Sir, and now
Reward me how you please: would I have been
False, Sir, I could have had that mans estate,
But your love is more worth then all the worlds:
What doom must Mariana, Sir, expect?
Pic.
She had escap'd, and I by chance did find her,
Stealing to Chaves tabern, and in rage
I sent her to the Devill for a pawn.
Gas.
Ha! Am I couzen'd? you did well, 'twas Justice,
The Law does free you, for you only slew.
[Page 77]Your wife, and her Adulterer.
Pic.
O Gaspar!
What means this murderer?
Gas.
Hem! shallow fool!
(They stab Picarro)
Glory in Mariana's death? you may
Get a new wife so beautifull.
Pic.
Slave! Bastard!
Hast thou no spark, or jot of goodness left?
The salvyge Arab, or the horn-foot Satyre
May but commence thy pupils, cruel slave!
Who e're begot thee, sure thy mother drew
Her blood from the Bassarides, or was
Of near allyance to that cursed Hag,
That into fritters slic'd her only son:
Hell was thy Cradle, and some Harpy did
Perform the office of a wretched nurse:
Thy heart can study nought but treachery,
But! Oh! I feel the angry hand of death,
Gripe my small arteries, and Atropos
Hath bit my thread of life. Forgive me Heav'ns!
Treason! Oh! Treason!
(dies)
Gas.
Look me dead, fond man
To vex thee more, 'twas I that first betraid
Thy wife to Chaves: I that did procure
Balthasar to have murdered thee, and now
At last, when I was all disclos'd, came over
Thy stupid brain, only in one thing crost,
(In Mariana's death) my plots has hit,
They're all o're-reach'd by one poor Bastards wit.
Enter Mariana and Catalina.
Is not this Mariana? sure it is.
Ma.
O horrid spectacle! what wretched hand
Durst to attempt this execrable fact!?
Chaves, Picarro, and Balthasar slain?
Poor Roderiguez, and Varina too?
What unknown Lady's this? (methinks her face
Speaks her ally'd to Roderiguez!) Oh!
Let me but kiss those lips, and send my soul
(goes to Chaves)
With thine into Elysium to dwell:
Lo! in these windows that let forth thy life,
I powre the helpless balm of my poor eyes:
Avant! thou dreadfull minister of hell!
Thy power could touch but their mortality:
Their souls thou could'st not hurt: Avant, begone:
If heav'n have any grievous plague in store,
Exceeding those that I can wish upon thee,
O! let them keep it till thy sins be ripe,
And then hurl down their indignation
In showers of fiery Vengeance on thy head.
[Page 78]Behold, the pattern of thy Butcheries!
See! Villain! See! how my Poore Chaves wounds
Open their congeald mouths, and bleed a fresh:
Blush! blush! thou lumpe of basenesse! Bastard! blush!
Within whose breast more snakes and Hydra's dwell
Then in the Stygian and Lernaean Dens;
For 'tis thy presence that exhales the blood
From cold and empty veins, where no blood dwells;
May Heaven with lightning fry thee into death,
Or let the inhiant Earth Devour thee quick,
As it doth swallow up mp Chaves blood.
Gas.

Cousin, you know no Rules of Charity.

Ma.
Villain! thou knowst no Law of God or Man.
No beast so fierce, but knows some touch of pity.
Gas.

I slew them not.

Ma.
Then say they were not slain.
But dead they are, and Devilish Slave by thee.
Gas.

I did not kill your Chaves,

Mar.

Then he lives.

Gas.

Nay, he is dead, and by Picarro slain.

Mar.
Take heed, that monstrous lye will choak you; did
Not you kill my dear Chaves?
Gas.

I grant; yes!

Mar.
Dost grant me? he was only fit for Heav'n.
And thou unfit for any place, but hell,
Gasp.

He lives that loves you better; then he could.

Ma.

Name him.

Gas.

Your friend and servant, faithfull Gaspar.

Ma.

Where is he?

Gas.
Here.
(She spits at him)
What? dost thou spit at me?
Ma.
Would it were mortall poyson for thy sake:
Out of my sight thou dost infect mine eyes.
Gas.

Thy eyes sweet Cousin, have infected mine.

Ma.

Would they were Basiliscks to strike thee dead.

Gas.
That you may know, how little I respect
Your love; receive this token from my arme.
(Kills her, Catalina runs out.)
Varl.

What shall we doe now, Signior?

Gas.
You must sweare
Balthazar killed Mariana, Chaves
Balthazar; Chaves and Varina fell
By mad Picarro's arme; then in revenge
Roderigvez kill'd Picarro: this is brave,
'Twill hold out water well; but where's this wench?
This devill Catalina? heav'ns! she's gone!
W'are all betraid, undone.
[Page 79] Enter Alonzo, Alvarez, Frederique, Catalina with guards.
Gas.
O noble Patron!
Behold the ruin of the stateliest structure,
Dame Nature, ever built by those curst villains
Alo.

My daughter!

(Swounds)
Gas.
Comfort Signior! Let your reason
Put reins unto your passion! Courage!
Alo.
What? cometh Gaspar now to comfort me?
Came he right now to sing a ravens note,
Whose dismall tune bereft my vitall powers,
And thinks he that the chirping of a wren
By crying comfort from a hollow brest,
Can chase away the first conceived sounds?
Hide not thy poyson with such sugred words;
Lay not thy hands on me, forbeare I say,
Their touch affrights me with a serpents sting;
Thou balefull messenger! out of my sight;
Upon thy eye-balles murderous Tyranny
Sits in grim majesty to fright the world:
Look not upon me, for thy eyes are wounding;
Yet doe not goe a way; come Basilicks,
And kill the innocent Gazer with thy sight;
For in the shade of death I shall find joy?
In life, but double death, now she is dead;
Come hither, Alvarez, and fright thy soule
With a new Gorgon; see! see! where thy sonne
Lies weltring in his gore!
Alv.

Who did this murder?

Gas.
He, that foule monster, and this cursed villain
With that, came rushing in and slue your daughter—
First, then Picarro killing him, was slain
By these two varlotts:
Alo.
Quick, lay hold on them!
First with strong ropes wee'll bind them to the rack;
And with hott Irons extort their sparkling Eyes.
Cat.
Sir, credit not this villaine! by his means
Chaves enjoy'd your daughter; 'twas his brain
That hammer'd all this mischiefe; and at length
When Mariana would not own his love,
With his own hand he stabd her! is't not so?
Bastard!
Gas.

Confide not in these feigned Comments! —

Fred.

Confesse you varlots, or I'll rack you!

1. Varl.
He
Hir'd us unto it; and first by his Command
Fell this man Chaves by our impious hands:
And after, Roderiguez: then this Lady
[Page 80]Seeing her Brother slain, did with her bodkin
Open her veins and laid her by his side;
Next this Varina, whose young spouse was lately
Massacred here, now swouns into her death;
Then by this mans command Picarro fell,
And by his own hand Mariana, thus
Ended this Tragick Scene.
Cat.
'Tis doubtlesse true;
But 'twas Picarro that slew Balthasar.
Gas.
Am I betraid? clap, thunder at my fall,
For Fame shall speak me for as slye a Bastard,
As Sin e're view'd; you'll laugh when you doe see
My limbs distended on the torturing Rack:
But you shall lose your aim; since I must die,
I'll please my self in chusing of my death.
But know, Alonzo, 'twas your baseness, that
Urg'd me to this revenge; which you must feele
A little nearer; you your self shall fall.
(stabs him.)
Curse on you all! this hand shall now set free
My self from your intended tyrannie.
stabs himself.
Alv.
Hold! hold his hands! we'll him in piecemeal tear,
And throw his carcasse for the Dogs to feed on;
The earth ne're bore a monster like him.
Fred.
Hold!
Keep life in him, till we compleat his torments,
That his black eyes may see the vengeance due
To his deserts; which plagues shall studied be.
Gas.
'Tis past, I'm going now, my blood is pale,
It comes thin from my heart-strings: may you all
Perish, alone the Bastard doth not fall.
(Dies.)
Alv.
Convey these bodies in, our grief shall swell,
And study torments that may equall Hell.
Exeunt:

ERRATA.

Pag. 4. line 21. for Dull read Full. P. 9. l. 18. for with r. which P. 16. l. 37. for disert r. desert. P. 20. l. 46. for optitick r. optick. P. 21 l. 10. for they r. they've. P. 30. l. 12. Exit. and penult. for this winding, r. their. P. 33. l. 21. for wilt r. will't. P. 40. l. 19. for panvillos, r. panuillos. P. 64. l. 33. r. Las! Sir, I.

FINIS.

EPILOGVE.

NOw we have done, 'ts the greatest of our Fears,
You'll say, W'ave led you hither by the Ears
To see some strange Conceipt: But when you came
You found our 'Spitall-wits, both Blind and Lame:
Faith! if w'ave made you Fools! 'twere best you be
Silent, that you may have more Company.
If any injury be done, We doe
Acknowledge, it is onely done to you:
We cook'd it for your Palats, if the Meat
Disrelish, don't indict us for a Cheat:
We hop'd to please: if ought disgust, We wish
You'ld think it but an ill-cookt Spanish Dish.
Your Patience claims our Thanks: Let GASPAR have
Your Favours hang like Scutcheons o're his Grave:
His Death hath Justice satisfied: from you
We doe (on his behalf) for Mercy sue.
Let not your hasty Censures raise those stones
Which doe Inurn him, or disturb his Bones,
And throw his Ashes in the air, be wise,
Lest his proud Dust rise, and put out your eyes.
Bridle your Passion: 'twere sin, your breath
Should sting his Name, and blast him after Death.
My Fancy prompts Me, that your Votes will give
(Attested by your hands) a large Reprieve
'Gainst Envie's doom, and that his Genius shall
Not be condemn'd as quite Apocryphall:
If any strain's unsav'ry, or don't fit
Your Humour, say it is a Bastard-Wit:
It is our hopes in Country, Court, and City,
If not your Love, We shall deserve your Pity.
FINIS.
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