University of Virginia Library

Actus 3.

Scæna 1.

Enter Occulto, Silvio, and two or three other Thieves.
Occulto.
Come, come, let's watch th'event on yonder hill;
If he need help, we can releive him sudainly.

Sil.
I, and with safetie too, the hill being watcht Sir.

Occ.
Have you the Blew cotes and the Beards?

Sil.
They'r here Sir.

Occ.
Come, come away then, a fine Cock shoot evening.

Exit.
Enter Latrocinio the chief Thief, and Ansoldo.
La.
sings.
Kuck before, and Kuck behind, &c.

Ans.
Troth y'ar the merriest, and delightfulst company Sir,
That ever Traveller was blest withall,
I praise my fortune that I overtook you Sir.

La.
Pish, I've a hundred of 'em.

Ans.
And beleeve me Sir,
I'm infinitely taken with such things.

La.
I see ther's musick in you, you kept time me thought
Prety and handsomly with your little hand there.

Ans.
It only shews desire, but troth, no skill Sir.

La.
Well, while our horses walk down yonder hill Sir,
Ile have an other for you.

Ans.
It rids way pleasantly.

La.
Le' me see now: one confounds an other sir,
Y'have heard this certainly: Come my daintie Doxes.

Ans.
Oh, that's all the Country over sir,
Ther's scarce Gentlewoman, but has that prickt.

La.
Song.

Ans.
How Sir?

La.
Few words: quickly come, deliver your purse sir.

Ans.
Y'ar not that kind of Gentleman, I hope sir,
To sing me out of my money?

La.
'Tis most fit
Art should be rewarded: you must pay your Musick sir
Where ere you come.

Ans.
But not at your own carving.

La.
Nor am I cōmon in't: Come, come your purse sir.

Ans.
Say it should prove the undoing of a Gentleman?

La.
Why sir, doe you looke for more conscience in us, than
In Usurers? young gentleman, y'have small reason for that y'faith.

Ans.
There 'tis, and all I have; and so truth comfort me,
All I know where to have.

La.
Sir, that's not written
In my belief yet; search, 'tis a fine evening,
Your horse can take no harm: I must have more sir.

Ans.
May my hopes perish, if you have not all sir,
And more I know than your compassionate charitie
Would keep from me, if you but felt my wants.

Ans.
Search, and that speedily: if I take you in hand,
You'l find me rough, me thinks men should be rul'd,
When they'r so kindly spoke too, fy upon't.

Ans.
Good fortune, and my wit assist me then,
A thing I took in haste, and never thought on't:
Look sir, I've search'd, here's all that I can find,
And you'r so covetous, you will have all you say,
And I'm content you shall, being kindly spoke too.

La.
A pox o' that young devill of a handfull long.
That 'as fraid many a tall thief from a rich purchase.

Ans.
This, and my money sir, keeps company;
Where one goes, th'other must; assure your soul
They vow'd never to part.

La.
Hold, I beseech you sir.

Ans.
You rob a prisoners box, and you rob me, sir.

La.
There 'tis agen.

Ans.
I knew 't would never prosper with you;
Fy, rob a younger Brother, oh take heed sir,
'Tis against nature that, perhaps your Father
Was one sir, or your Uncle, it should seem so
By the small means was left you, and lesse manners.
Goe, keep you still before me, and do you hear me,
To passe away the time to the next Town,
I charge you sir, sing all your Songs for nothing—

Lat.
Oh horrible punishment.—

A Song:
[Enter Stratio.]
Stra.
Honest Gentleman.

Ans.
How now, what art thou?

Stra.
Stand you in need of help?
I made all haste I could, my Master charg'd me.
A Knight of worship; he saw you first assaulted
From top of yonder hill.

Ans.
Thanks honest friend.

La.
I taste this trick already.—

Exit.
Stra.
Look, hee's gone sir,
Shall he be stop'd; what is he?

Ans.
Let him goe sir;
He can rejoyce in nothing, that's the comfort.

Stra.
You have your purse still then?

Ans.
I, thanks fair fortune,
And this grym handfull.

Stra.
We were all so fraid o' you,
How my good Lady cri'd, O help the gentleman,
'Tis a good woman that: but you'r too mild sir,
You should ha' markt him for a villain 'faith
Before h'ad gone, having so sound a means too.

Ans.
Why there's the jest man; he had once my purse.

Stra.
Oh villain, would you let him scape unmasacred?

Ans.
Nay, hear me sir, I made him yield it streight agen,
And so hope blesse me, with an uncharg'd Pistoll.

Stra.
'Troth I should laugh at that.

Ans.
It was discharg'd Sir,
Before I medled with't.

Stra.
I'me glad to hear't.

Ans.
Why how now, What's your will?

Stra.
Hoh, Latrocinio, Occulto, Silvio.—

[Enter Latrocinio and the rest, Occulto, Silvio, Fiducio.]
La.
What are you caught sir?

Stra.
The Pistoll cannot speak.

La.
He was too young,
I ever thought he could not; yet I fear'd him.

Ans.
Y'have found out waies too merciless to betray
Under the veil of friendship, and of charitie.

La.
Away sirs, bear him in to th'next Cops, and strip him.

Stra.
Brandino's Copps, the Justice?

La.
Best of all sir, a man of law?
A Spider lies unsuspected in the corner of a buckeram bag, man.

Ans.
What seek you sirs? take all and use no crueltie,

La.
Song.

Exeunt.
Enter Philippa and Violetta above at the Window.
Phil.
What time of night is't?

Viol.
Time of night doe you call't?
Its so late, 'tis almost early Mistriss.

Phil.
Fy on him, ther's no looking for him then;
Why sure this Gentleman apprehends me not.

Viol.
'Tis happy then y'ar rid of such a fool Mistriss.

Phil.
Nay sure Wench, if he find me not out in this
Which were a beaten path to any wiseman,
Ile never trust him with my reputation;
Therefore I made this tryall of his wit,
If he cannot conceive what's good for himself,
He will worse understand what's good for me.

Viol.
But suppose Mrs. as it may be likely,
He never saw your letter?

Phil.
How thou plyest me,
With suppositions? why I tell thee wench,
Tis equally as impossible for my husband
To keep it from him, as to be young agen,
Or as his first wife knew him, which he brags on
For bearing children by him.

Viol.
Ther's no remedy then,
I must conclude Francisco is an Ass.

Phil.
I would my letter, wench, were here agen,
I'ld know him wiser ere I sent him one;
And travail some five year first.

Viol.
So h'ad need methinks,
To understand the words, methinks the words
Themselves should make him do't, had he but the perseverance
Of a Cock sparrow, that will come at philip,
And can nor write, nor read poor fool, this Coxcomb
He can doe both, and your names but Philippa,
And yet to see, if he can come when's calld.

Phil.
He never shall be calld agen for me sirha.
Well, as hard as the world goes, wee'l have a Song wench,
Wee'l not sit up for nothing.

Viol.
That's poor comfort though.

Phil.

Better then any's brought, for ought I see yet? So set to
your Lute.

Song.
1.
If in this question I propound to thee
Be any, any choice,
Let me have thy voice.

2
You shall most free.

1
Which hadst thou rather be
If thou might choose thy life,
A Fools, a fools Mistriss,
Or an old mans wife?

2
The choice is hard, I know not which is best,
One ill y'ar bound too, and I think that's least.

1
But being not bound, my dearest sweet,
I could shake off the other.

2
Then as you lose your sport by one,
You lose your name by t'other.

1
You counsell well, but love refuses,
What good counsell often chooses.

[Enter Ansaldo in his Shirt.]
Ans.
I ha' got my self unbound yet: merciless villains,
I never felt such hardness since life dwelt in me;
'Tis for my sins: That light in yonder Window
That was my only comfort in the woods,
Which oft the trembling of a leaf would lose me,
Has brought me thus far, yet I cannot hope
For succour in this plight, the world's so pittiless,
And every one will fear or doubt me now:
To knock will be to bold, ile to the gate,
And listen if I can hear any stirring.

[Enter Francisco.
Fra.
Was ever man so cross'd? no 'tis but sweat sure,
Or the dew dropping from the leaves above me,
I thought 'thad bled agen: these wenching businesses
Are strange unlucky things, and fatall fooleries,
No mar'l so many gallants die ere thirtie,
'Tis able to vex out a mans heart in five year,
The crosses that belong to't: first arrested,
That set me back two mangey hours at least,
Yet that's a thing my heat could have forgiv'n,
Because arresting, in what kind so ever,
Is a most Gentleman-like affliction:
But here, within a mile o'th' town forsooth,
And two mile off this place, when a mans oath
Might ha' been taken for his own securitie,
And his thoughts brisk, and set upon the business,
To light upon a roguy flight of Thieves,
Pox on 'em, here's the length of one of their whistles,
But one of my dear Rascals, I pursued so,
The Gaol has him, and he shall bring ou'ts fellows:
Had ever young mans love such crooked fortune?
I'm glad I'm so neer yet; the Surgeon bad me too
Have a great care; I shall never think of that now.

Ans.
One of the Theeves come back agen? Ile stand close;
He dares not wrong me now, so neer the house,
And call in vain 'tis, till I see him offer't.

Fra.
'Life, what should that be? a prodigious thing
Stands just as I should enter, in that shape too,
Which alwaies appears terrible.
What ere it be, it is made strong against me
By my ill purpose. For 'tis mans own sin
That puts on armor upon all his evils,
And gives them strength to strike him: were it less
Then what it is, my guilt would make it serve;
A wicked mans own shadow has distracted him:
Were this a business now to save an honour,
As 'tis to spoil one, I would pass this then
Stuck all hels horrors i'thee: now I dare not.
Why may't not be the spirit of my Father
That lov'd this man so well, whom I make haste
Now to abuse? And I have been cross'd about it
Most fearfully hitherto, if I well think on't;
Scap'd death but lately too, nay most miraculously;
And what do's fond man venture all these ills for,
That may so sweetly rest in honest peace?
For that which being obtaind, is as he was
To his own sence, but remov'd neerer still
To death eternall: what delight has man
Now at this present, for his pleasant sin
Of yesterdaies committing? 'las, 'tis vanish'd,
And nothing but the sting remains within him.
The kind man baild me too; I will not do't now
And 'twere but only that: how blest were man,
Might he but have his end appear still to him,
That he might read his actions i'th' event?
'Twould make him write true, though he never meant.
Whose Check so ere thou art, Fathers, or Friends,
Or Enemies, I thank thee, peace requite thee;
Light, and the lighter Mistris both farewell.
He keeps his promise best that breaks with hell.—

Exit.
Ans.
He's gone to call the rest, and makes all speed,
Ile knock what ere befalls, to please my fears,
For no compassion can be lesse than theirs.

Phil.
He's come, he's come; oh are you come at last sir?
Make little noise, away, he'll knock agen els.

Ans.
I should have bin at Istria by day-break too,
Neer to Valerias house the wealthy Widowes,
There waites one purposely to doe me good.
What will become of me?

[Enter Violetta.]
Viol.
Oh, y'ar a sweet Gallant, this your hour?
Give me your hand; come, come sir, follow me,
Ile bring you to light presently: softly, softly sir.

Exeunt.
[Ent. Philippa below.]
Phil.
I should ha' given him up to all my thoughts
The dullest young man, if he had not found it;
So short of apprehension, and so worthless,
He were not fit for womans fellowship:
I've been at cost too for a Banket for him;
Why 'twould ha' kill'd my heart, and most especially
To think that man should ha' no more conceit;
I should ha' thought the worse on's wit for ever,
And blam'd mine own for too much forwardness.

[Enter Violetta.]
Viol.
Oh Mistris, Mistris.

Phil.
How now, what's the news?

Viol.
Oh, I was out of my wits for a minute and a half.

Phil.
Hah?

Viol.
They are scarce setled yet Mistris.

Phil.
What's the matter?

Viol.
Doe you ask that seriously?
Did you not hear me squeak?

Phil.
How? sure thou'rt out of thy wits indeed.

Viol.
Oh, I'm well now,
To what I was Mistris.

Phil.
Why where's the gentleman?

Viol.
The gentleman's forth-comming, and a lovely one,
But not Francisco.

Phil.
What sai'st, not Francisco?

Viol.
Pish, hee's a coxcomb, think not on him Mistris.

Phil.
What's all this?

Viol.
I'ave often heard you say, ye'ad rather have
A wise man in his shirt, than a Fool featherd,
And now fortune has sent you one, a sweet young gentleman,
Rob'd ev'n to nothing, but what first he brought with him,
The slaves had stript him to th'very shirt Mistris,
I think it was a shirt, I know not well,
For Gallants wear both now adayes.

Phil.
This is strange.

Viol.
But for a face a hand, and as much skin
As I durst look upon, hee's a most sweet one;
Francisco is a child of Egypt to him:
I could not but in pitty to th'poor gentleman,
Fetch him down one of my old Masters Suits.

Phil.
'Twas charitably done,

Viol.
You'ld say Mistris, if you had seen him as I did.
Sweet youth, Ile be sworn Mistris hee's the loveliest
Proper'st young gentleman, and so you'l say your self,
If my Masters clothes do not spoil him, that's all the fear now,
I would't had been your luck to have seen him
Without'em, but for scarring on you.

Phil.
Go, pre'thee fetch him in whom thou cōmend'st so.
Exit Viol.
Since fortune sends him, surely wee'll make much on him;
And better he deserves our love, and welcome,
Than the respectless fellow 'twas prepar'd for;
Yet if he please mine eie never so happily,
I will have tryall of his wit, and faith,
Before I make him partner with my honour.
'Twas just Francisco's case, and he deceiv'd me;
Ile take more heed o'th' next for't; perhaps now
To furnish his distress, he will appear
Full of fair promising Courtship; but Ile prove him then
For a next meeting, when he needs me not,
And see what he performs then when the storm
Of his so rude misfortunes is blown over,
And he himself agen: A distrest mans flatteries
Are like vowes made in drink, or bonds in prison,
There's poor assurance in 'em: when hee's from me,
And in's own pow'r, then I shall see his love.
[Enter Ansaldo and Violetta.]
'Masse here he comes.

Ans.
Never was star-cross'd gentleman
More happy in a curteous virgins love,
Than I in yours.

Viol.
I'm sorry they'r no better for you,
I wish'd 'em hansomer, and more in fashion,
But truly Sir, our house affords it not:
There is a Suit of our Clerks, hangs i'th' garret,
But that's far worse than this, if I may judge
With modestie of mens matters.

Ans.
I deserve not
This, dear, and kind gentlewoman, is yond' your Mistris?

Phil.
Why trust me, here's my Husband young agen,
It is no sin to welcome you, Sweet gentleman.

Ans.
I am so much indebted, curteous Lady,
To the unmatched charitie of your house,
My thanks are such poor things they would but shame me.

Phil.
Beshrew thy heart for bringing o' him: I fear me
I have found wit enough already in him.
If I could truly but resolve my self
My husband was thus handsome at nineteen,
'Troth I should think the better of him at fourscore now.

Viol.
Nay Mistris, what would he be, were he in fashion,
A hempen curse on those that put him out on't,
That now appears so handsome, and so comely in clothes
Able to make a man an unbeleever,
And good for nothing but for shift, or so
If a man chance to fall i'th' ditch with better?
This is the best, that ever I mark'd in 'em,
A man may make him ready in such clothes
Without a candle.

Phil.
I for shame of himself Wench.

Viol.
My Master do's it oft in winter mornings,
And never sees himself till he be ready.

Phil.
No, nor then neither, as he should do Wench.
I am sorry gentle Sir, we cannot shew you
A curtesie, in all points answerable
To your undoubted worth: your name I crave sir.

Ans.
Ansaldo, Lady.

Phil.
'Tis a noble name Sir.

Ans.
The most unfortunate now.

Viol.
So doe I think truly
As long as that Suites on.

Phil.
The most unfitting,
And unprovidest sir of all our curtesies,
I doe presume is that y'have past already,
Your pardon but for that, and wee'r encourag'd.

Ans.
My faithfull service, Lady.

Phil.
Please you Sir
To taste the next a poor slight Bancket, for sure I think you were
Unluckily prevented of your supper sir.

Ans.
My fortune makes me more than amends Lady,
In your sweet kindnesse, which so nobly shown to me,
It makes me bold to speak my occasions to you:
I am this morning, that with cleerness now
So chearfully hastens me, to meet a Friend
Upon my states establishing, and the place
Ten mile from hence: oh, I am forc'd unwillingly
To crave your leave for't, which done I return
In service plentifull.

Phil.
Is't so important?

Ans.
If I should fail, as much as my undoing.

Phil.
I think too well of you, to undo you sir,
Upon this small acquaintance.

Ans.
My great happiness.

Phil.
But when should I be sure of you here agen sir?

Ans.
As fast as speed can possibly return me.

Phil.
You will not fail?

Ans.
May never wish goe well with me then.

Phil.
There's to bear charges sir.

Ans.
Curtesie dwells in you.
I brought my horse up with me from the woods,
That's all the good they left me, 'gainst their wils too,
May your kind breast never want comfort Lady,
But still supply'd, as liberally as you give.

Phil.
Farewell sir, and be faithfull.

Ans.
Time shall prove me.
Exit Ans.

Phil.
In my opinion now, this young mans likeliest
To keep his word, he's modest, wise, and curteous;
He has the language of an honest soul in him:
A womans reputation may lye safe there,
I'm much deceiv'd else, h'as a faithfull eye
If it be well observ'd.

Viol.
Good speed be with thee sir;
He puts him to't y'faith.

Phil.
Violetta.

Viol.
Mistriss.

Phil.
Alas, what have we done wench?

Viol.
What's the matter Mistriss?

Phil.
Run, run, call him agen; he must stay tell him,
Though it be upon's undoing, wee'r undone else,
Your Masters cloaths, their known the Country over.

Viol.
Now by this light that's true, and well remembred
But ther's no calling of him, he's out of sight now.

Phil.
Oh what will people think?

Viol.
What can they think Mistriss?
The Gentleman has the worst on't: were I he now
I'ld make this ten mile, forty mile about
Before Il'd ride through any market town with 'em.

Phil.
Will he be carefull think'st?

Viol.
My life for yours Mistriss.

Phil.
I shall long mightily to see him agen.

Viol.
And so shall I, I shall nev'r laugh till then.

Exeunt.