 | A Challenge for Beavtie |  |
Actus tertius.
Scæna prima.
Enter Valladaura, and Ferrers gallant.Fer.
Sir from a bond-man, you have cast me into a free mould,
almost new made mee, yet what your purpose is, I cannot
gather, I am still yours; Is't your intention to pranke mee
up, to make me fit for death, or feede mee till I be in some good
plight, the better to fatt your owne revenge?
What I purpose to my selfe, I still keepe in my selfe,
What you have found hitherto, speake, and when you
Find your selfe pinch'd, then freely complaine.
Ferr.
The face of your kind visage yet lookes smooth,
I spie in it no wrinckle; But my friend,
How have you dealt by him?
Valla.
As hee deserues, no further, pray inquire him.
Ferr.
If hee perish,
I am swept from off the earth too, with my sister,
Hee next my heart sits unmoveable: pray what service
Will you command me now?
Valla.
None: yet some love
I shall intreate, withall, a grace from you,
I have a Mistris, unto whom I purpose
A friendly visitation, to which duty,
I intreate you as a witnesse.
Ferr.
I am yours.
Enter Aldana, and Petrocella.
Petr.
I heare say Bonavidaes return'd:
Alda.
And intends to visit thee, for having fail'd in all his
Forraine purposes: hee meanes, upon those thy pillars, as Hercules
did upon his, to write Nonultra, think'st thou not so girle?
my further honor still.
Petr.
To see what a vertue lives in this Spanish continent,
especially amongst yellow-hayr'd wenches; Jason, when hee
went in quest of the Golden-Fleece, found it in Spaine, there's a
Morrall in that, and that great Hercules, so talk'd on amongst
the Greekes, after all his travells through Asia, Africke, and Europe,
comming to this Countrey, into the Iland call'd Calis; hee
that, unlesse Poets lie, lay with Fifty Ladies in one night, and
got Nine and forty Boyes, marry I must tell you, the last was a
Girle; was there so tyred with one woman; that hee gave over
all his travells, retyr'd home to his Countrey, like a man taken
downe, and in memory of his adventure: where hee reared
his pillar, writ that most methodicall Motto you speake of;
No further.
My daughter is an apt, and wittie lasse:
I know her apprehensive, and well-brayn'd:
My further honour still.
Valla.
Noble Madam,
I have brought a stranger, and an English-man,
To give you visitation.
Alda.
A worthy stranger, a bold villaine too,
My further honour still.
Valla.
To whom, Petrocella?
As to a Gentleman to mee Intyr'd,
I begge from you all the best complement,
Due unto my long service.
Petr.
Why, what's hee?
Valla.
This man, doe you meane?
Petro.
Yes hee, that fellow there.
Valla.
Fellow, to whom; he hath not his in Spaine,
Nay, I might have tooke a larger bound,
And not have past my limitt; fellow, villaine?
Petr.
Yes, or commpanion.
Valla.
Paint me out a worthy—
Else hee is such to none: This was the man
I met at sea, and fought with; our Incounter
Was all in smoake and fire, so hotly fought,
That in that fogge, wee had no further light,
Then what our Lint-staves gave: our Decks flow'd blood,
Which through the Port-holes run, and dy'de the Sea
Into a deepe vermillion, yet still fought.
Ferr.
But never with a braver opposite
Did English-man trie with fire.
Petr.
Hee speakes well.
Alda:
Both to their honors still.
Valla.
When Powder, and Bullet,
And men, with all grew skant, for scarce was any
Left to the present purpose, serviceable,
Both bottoms ready through the violent leakes
To split, and founder; wee then hal'd, hung flaggs,
And grew to composition.
Ferr.
Which I begg'd.
Sir, it came first from mee; And this propos'd,
That both our shipps, goods, lives, and people, might not
Bee in the Sea ingrav'd, and swallowed up,
Both from mans tongue and thought: that such rich Prises
Might be to one Surviver; the two Captaines
To try it out by Combat.
Alda.
Honor still.
Valla.
This nobly hee accepted; Faiths new pawn'd,
Hostages given, two worthy seconds chus'd;
Lots cast, whose Decks should bee th'appointed lists;
To mine it fell: Hee boarded me to fight,
From whom I came apparrel'd thus in wounds—
Petr.
It seemes then hee 's a cutter.
Valla.
Whose scarres still marke mee his.
Ferr.
Weare I not yours?
Though not so many, yet more deepely carv'd,
With greater danger, and expence of blood,
Then ever drop'd from these.
Valla.
Short tale to make;
Vanquish'd I was, Hee victor; and when all,
Lading and lives were his; Nay even mine too
Lay postrate at his mercy, with a magnificence
Equall to any Prince, hee should at—
Petro.
All this wee know, nor doe wee desire to heare over
againe, what was before related; but had you spoke more in his
prayse, then you have done, which it may be is your purpose; I
find nothing, but may well come within the compasse of his
merit, and my beliefe.
Valla.
Lady, I am glad you are so possest of him;
And doe you thinke him such?
Petr.
I thinke you would gladly sell whom you have so lately
bought, else you would never have spoake him thus: If you
have any such purpose; It may be, there be those that, but surrender
up your bargen, would be glad to helpe you to your money.
Ferr.
I came but with one gyue upon my legge,
Fasten'd upon mee in his curtesie,
But since I look'd upon your Ladies eyes,
Now I am doubly fetter'd.
'Tis neglect,
A palpable neglect, she loves me not:
It shall be so, I will be borish and sullen.
Fer.
Sir, you this day have brought me to a fight
That more contents me than the wealth of Spaine:
This matchlesse Lady.
Vall.
My Mistris,
Whom if thou wilt court for me,
And winne unto my wishes.
Fer.
I Sir doo't?
Vall.
Yes, by the love thou owest me; doe you pawse?
If ever I deserv'd the name of friend,
Or hopest hereafter I may merit off thee,
Make it thy sole endevours
Fer.
Doubly captived:
Honour should still preseede love: Sir, I will,
Though I to cure another, my selfe kill.
Enter Hellena with her maide.
Helle.
How long is't since those Gentlemen of Spaine arrived
here?
Maid.
Three dayes since, Lady.
Hell.
Came there no letters along with 'em from Spaine? some
note there?
Maid.
Not to my hands.
Hell.
Has Bonavid. that name me thinks revives me, I dare not
taxe him of neglect, and yet I am very pleasant this morning,
lets have a song Rosara: I would have the subject love, and yet
modest to, and yet a little wanton, yet chast and innocent as
dreams of coles, and hearst thou? where Bonavida's name vouchsafes
to grace the ditty, there let musicke speak in its smoothest
phrase, and most courtly singing, stay, thou art a jewell to pretious
to be wash'd with, thou wert given to deare purpose: honour'd
with this, lye there.
A Song, during which, she washes.
Maid.
The ditties done.
Hell.
And I have done, a dryer.
Maid.
How am I blest: occasion I thank thee,
Ex. maid with Bason and Ring.
Hell.
Thy absence Bonavid. makes each minute seeme an hower
pledge of thy affection—Rosara, Maide.
Maid.
Your pleasure madam?
Enter with the empty bason misses her ring.
Helle.
Reach me my Ring.
Maid.
What Ring, Lady?
Helle.
Dost aske that question? that of the bason?
Maid.
Trust me madam, I saw none.
Helle.
Speak not againe upon thy life, where is the water?
Maid.
Throwne out Madam, and with it I feare the Ring, but
Ile—
Exit.
Helle.
Find it againe, or lose thy selfe, inconsiderate girle, how
are my hopes betraid through thy rash negligence, was my blood
pleasant for this? my thoughts, Ioyfull for this?—how now,
hast found it?
Enter Maid.
Maid.
Nor ever shall I feare Madam.
Helle.
How, never?
Then lose thy selfe, my hopes are lost for ever, torches and lights
there, finde it againe, or never see me more.
Exit.
Maid.
Your will's a law, which I intend not suddenly to
infringe, and have I got thee my best happinesse? now to my
Don of Spaine, the next newes you heare of me, is a Ladiship
at least; but fie on this idlenesse, I stand on thornes till I be in
action.
Exit.
Enter Pineda and Centella.
Cent.
You finde her pliant?
Pin.
As a thing of wax, never was thrifty trader more willing
to put of a sullke commodity, than she was to truck for her maydenhead,
I admire her forwardnesse.
Cen.
Call of the animall, she takes her entrance just at her qu.
step you aside for feare of suspition.
Enter Maid.
Maid.
Oh, master Oracle, sweete master Oracle!
Cent.
How thrives your project? workes it into fashion?
Maid.
Beyond hope or expectation, was there not a Don of
Spaine heere, to speake with me?
Cen.
Not I assure you? you have met him then?
Maid.
Yes, and so met him, sweet M. Oracle, I am bound to
you for ever.
Confer with Centella.
Enter Pineda.
Pin.
This by my direction is the place, the labour in vaine,
and here spite of delay, she has prevented my hast, you see I keep
my word sweete.
And that's somewhat strange, in a gallant of your ranck.
Pine.
But usuall in a lover, may wee presume upon the trust of
this gentleman?
Maid.
Why, doe not you know him? Oh strange! why 'tis
M. Oracle man; trust him? and I had a Maiden-head to spare, I
durst trust it naked in bed with him.
Cent.
Sir, though both strangers, yet fates past, and fortunes to
come, are better knowne to me, than your selves: have you got
the Ring?
Maid.
Have I? have I not? the handsomest way I had for't.
Pin.
Sweet, I am come to make tender of my promise.
Maid.
The like purpose bring we Sir.
Pin.
You have my heart already.
Maid.
For which take mine, and that Ring to boote: and M.
Pin.
Welcome as health to the house of sicknes: and now, where
how, what, when?
Cen.
How is't Sir? I see a sudden signe of alteration
in you.
Pin.
And can you blame me, my blood chils, my nerves faint. I
am abus'd, my attendant Dæmon prompts me, I am abus'd.
Cent.
Where?
Maid.
Or by whom?
Pin.
Here, and by thee, by both a false imposture and a common
Strumpet.
Maid.
Doe you mistrust my honesty?
Cen.
Or my Art?
Pin.
Both, they are both dissembled, and my noble purpose
frustrate, this is not the Ring.
Maid.
Not the Ring?
Pin.
And you the woman my fate points at; how simple innocence
may be plaid upon?
Maid.
How, not the Ring? returne it backe then.
Pin.
No, I will keepe it to witnesse and evidence against you,
for instantly expect the severest punishment law can inflict upon
Impostures of this kinde.
Exit.
Cent.
Disparagement to my Art, have you brought a fals Ring?
Maid.
The right on my faith, as I hop'd to be a Lady, the right.
Cent.
I am proud of that, this tryall was not amisse though.
Maid.
But Oh master Oracle, how have you deceiv'd me?
Cent.
I was deceiv'd my selfe, I see my errour now; onely a
mistake in the signe, I sought for Mercury in one house, and hee
logd'd in the next, I must change my lodging, the Citty stones
The all and onely mistake was in the signe.
Maid.
The Labour in vaine, a fire on the signe, and you too;
my Donna turn'd to this? my preferment to this? a Lady in the
Morning, and a beggar before noone? here's quicke work indeed;
a cunning man? a cunning Rogue. If ere it be my luck to see thee
preach through a pillory, as one of the cast lims of your cursed
crew did not long since, the hangman shal have you by the eares
for this: but I'le backe and lay my case open to my Lady.
Cent.
Your only curses, and now aboard for Spaine,
Her shame's our honour, and her losse our gaine.
Exeunt.
Enter Manhurst, with a false beard in his hand.
Man.
The Spanyard's noble, beyond thought or expectation
noble, instead of a Dungeon, hee has furnish'd me with meanes,
and sent me home with a letter of his purpos'd friendship to my
friend. And now, though freed both from Turk and Spanyard. I
live slave to a more cruell nation than both, my owne countreymen
for suretyship and debt, (diseases that many a gallant lies
sick to death on) have tane hold on mee, and though I know it
improbable, and partly ridiculous, that a false beard, and a fantasticall
habit, should mar my creation & make me a new creature,
it has past currant with some in this place, and I may the bolder
venter on't. First then to my friends Sister, the young Lady Ferrars,
I thinke her vertuous, but withall know her for a woman,
and dare not trust my liberty in so weake a stomacke: in this
disguise then, I'le addresse me to her presently.
Exit.
Enter Hellena and Maid.
Helle.
Thou tell'st me wonders, cheated of my Ring, by a cunning
man, and a crafty Spanyard? the cosenage was premeditate:
a Spanyard was he?
Maid.
Some Don or Nobleman at least, he wore very good
clothes.
Helle.
So may a cheat, or a pickpurse; the better body, the planer
the habit, painted clothes were devis'd for ruind feeling, and
Noble.
Maid.
Then was hee a very beggar to cheat for so poore a trifle
as a Ring.
Ellen.
'Twas not so much for the valew of the thing, As to
impoverish the oath of the wearer; some crafty sinner had a hand
in't: or it might be Bonavidaes plott, to try my loyaltie: and
yet it relishes too much basenesse to come from so noble an authour;
how ever, shall I see this, turne coward, and like a falling
Tower, bury my beauty in my owne Ruins? no, rather like the
glorious Sun, desolue, and scatter these clowds of Infamy. It is resolu'd,
Ile after em to Spaine: Your purpose Rosara.
Maid.
To give you my best attendance to the last minute,
please you Ladyship accept it.
Helle.
And freely pardon thee, receive a few directions for
our voyage.
Enter Manhurst disguised.
Man.
Yes, this disguise will doo't; and for my friend, her noble
brothers sake, Ile make the first tender of my service to her;
save you Lady.
Helle.
You'r welcome sir; would you any thing with us?
Man.
Impart a secret to you.
Helle.
To a Woman? by no meanes, wee want discretion to
keepe our owne.
Man.
Strange! Hud I a secret concern'd my life, Ide trust it
in a Womans bosome to chuse, and thinke I lay'd it up safe too.
Helle.
Your reason Sir?
Man.
Because no wise-man will ever looke for any matter of
Worth in such a weake building.
Helle.
A fellow of a bold aspect, and such a one, were I assured
of his carriage, as would much availe mee in my voyage; Art
willing to serue?
Man.
Mine owne turne with all my heart: This fashions to
my wishes; what if your Ladiship doe want a servant? I am
your man, your first man too, and such a man as know the
World.
And such a man doe I want:
You have beene in Spaine then?
Did'st heare no talke of an English-man there,
One Ferrers—
Man.
And one Manhurst his friend, they are both prisoners,
and lie—onely for ransome.
Helle.
My brother Prisoner? This news wings mee for my
voyage.
Man.
Are you for any adventures Lady?
Helle.
Thy bad newes enforces mee; Ile make that my colour,
at least that Gentleman is my brother; and cost it the last
penny of my Dower, I will not see him want; Ile furnish our
voyage Instantly.
Man.
As generous, as he is valliant, 'twere cowardize in mee
to disharten her, wee must be gallant; what habit were I best to
travell in, let me see, a Spannish slop, good easie weare, but that
like Chambermaides, they are loose, and somewhat too open
below.
Maid.
Me-thinks your Dutch Cassocke is a comely weare.
Man.
It hath bin, but now adayes it growes shorter and
shorter, like your Court allowance: their Taylors are good husbands,
tho' they make little or no waste at all, and that makes
your Gallants stand so much upon Points: your button-hose is
a good weare for Courtiers.
Maid.
Why for Courtiers?
Man.
Cause they are full of large promises outward, but lin'd
with narrow and scant-performance within.
Maid.
'Tas beene a good fashion, but 'tis old.
Helle.
So is all goodnesse else, wee have nothing new, but
oathes and diseases.
Man.
No, for my money, give mee your substantiall, English
hose, round and som-what full afore.
Maid.
Now they are mee-thinks a little too great.
Man.
The more the discretion of the Landlord that builds
them: he makes roome enough for his Tennant to stand upright
in, he may walk in and out at ease without stooping: but of all
the rest, I am cleane out of love with your Irish trowses; they
are for all the world like a Iealous wife, alwayes close at a mans
and Imitable: will you follow?
Helle.
Even where fate leades mee, wee are all her slaves
And have no dwellings of our own.
Man.
Yes, Graves.
| A Challenge for Beavtie | |