 | The Custome of the Countrey |  |
Actus quinti
Scæna Prima.
Enter Rutillio and Duart.Rut.
You like the Letter.
Dua.
Yes, but I must tell you,
You tempt a desperate hazard, to sollicite
The mother, (and the grieved one too, 'tis rumord)
Of him you slew so lately.
Rut.
I have told you
Some proofes of her affection, and I know not
A neerer way to make her satisfaction
For a lost Sonne, then speedily to help her
To a good husband; one that will beget
Both sons and daughters, if she be not barren.
I have had a breathing now, and have recovered
What I lost in my late service, 'twas a hot one:
It fir'd and fir'd me; but all thanks to you Sir,
You have both freed and cool'd me.
Dua.
What is done Sir
I thought well done, and was in that rewarded,
And therefore spare your thanks.
Rut.
I'le no more whoring:
This fencing twixt a paire of sheets, more weare one
Then all the exercise in the world besides.
To be drunk with good Canary, a meere Julip
Or like gourd-water to't; twenty surfets
Come short of one nights work there. If I get this Lady
As ten to one I shall; I was ne're denied yet,
I will live wondrous honestly; walk before her
Gravely, and demurely
And then instruct my family; you are sad,
What do you muse on Sir?
Dua.
Truth I was thinking
What course to take for the delivery of your letter,
And now I have it: but faith did this Lady
(For do not gull your selfe) for certain know,
You kild her sonne?
Rut.
Give me a booke, I'le swear't;
Denyed me to the Officers, that pursued me,
Brought me her selfe to'th dore, then gave me gold
To beare my charges, and shall I make doubt then
But that she lov'd me? I am confident
Time having tane her griefe off, that I shall be
Most welcome to her: for then to have wooed her
Had been unseasonable.
Dua.
well Sir, there's more money,
To make you handsome; I'le about your businesse:
You know where you must stay.
Rut.
There you shall finde me:
Would I could meete my brother now, to know,
Whither the Jew, his Genius, or my Christian,
Has prov'd the better friend.
Exit.
Dua.
O who would trust
Deceiving woman! or beleeve that one
The best, and most canoniz'd ever was
More then a seeming goodnesse! I could raile now
Against the sexe, and curse it; but the theame
And way's too common: yet that Guiomar
My mother; (nor let that forbid her to be
The wonder of our nation) she that was
Mark'd out the great example, for all Matrons
Both wife and Widow; shee that in my breeding
Exprest the utmost of a mothers care,
And tendernesse to a sonne; she that yet faines
Such sorrow for me; good God, that this mother,
After all this, should give up to a stranger,
The wreake she owed her sonne; I feare her honour.
That he was sav'd, much joyes me, and grieve only
That she was his preserver. I'le try further,
And by this Engine, find whether the teares,
Of which, she is so prodigall, are for me,
Or us'd to cloake her base hypocrisy.
Exit.
Enter Hypolita and Sulpitia.
Hyp.
Are you assur'd the charme prevailes?
Sulp.
Do I live?
Or you speake to me? Now, this very instant
Health takes its last leave of her; maugre palenesse
Like winter, nips the Roses and the lillies,
The Spring that youth, and love adorn'd her face with.
To force affection, is beyond our art,
For I have prov'd all meanes that hell has taught me,
Or the malice of a woman, which exceeds it,
To change Arnoldoe's love, but to no purpose:
But for your bond-woman.
Hyp.
Let her pine and dye;
She remov'd; which like a brighter sun,
Obscures my beames, I may shine out againe,
And as I have been, be admir'd and sought to:
How long has she to live?
Sulp.
Lady, before
The Sun twice rise and set, be confident,
She is but dead; I know my Charme hath found her
Nor can the Governours guard; her lovers teares;
Her Fathers sorrow, or his power that freed her,
Defend her from it.
Enter Zabulon.
Zab.
All things have succeeded,
As you could wish; I saw her brought sick home;
The image of pale death, stampt on her fore-head.
Let me adore this second Hecate,
This great Commandresse, of the fatall sisters,
That as she pleases, can cut short, or lengthen
The threed of life.
Hip.
Where was she, when the inchantment
First ceas'd upon her.
Zab.
Taking the fresh aire,
In the company of the Governour, and Count Clodio
Arnoldo too, was present with her Father,
When, in a moment (so the servants told me)
As she was giving thanks to the Governour,
And Clodio, for her unexpected freedome,
As if she had been blasted, she sunk down,
To their amazement.
Hyp.
'Tis thy master-piece
Which I will so reward, that thou shalt fixe here,
And with the hazard of thy life, no more
Make tryall of thy powerfull Art; which known
Our Lawes call death: off with this Magicall robe,
And be thy selfe.
Enter Governour, Clodio, and Charino.
Sulp.
Stand close, you shall heare more.
Go:, Man.
You must have patience; all rage is vain now,
And piety forbids, that we should question
What is decreed above, or aske a reason
Why heaven determines this or that way of us.
Clod.
Heaven has no hand in't; 'tis a work of hell.
Her life hath been so innocent, all her actions
21
As rather she deserves a Saints place here,
Then to endure, what now her sweetenesse suffers.
Charin.
Not for her fault, but mine Sir; Zenocia suffers,
The sin I made, when I sought to rase downe
Arnoldos love, built, on a Rock of truth,
Now to the height is punish'd. I professe,
Had he no birth, nor parts, the present sorrowes
He now expresses for her, does deserve her
Above all Kings, though such had been his riuals.
Clod.
All Ancient stories, of the love of husbands
To vertuous wives, be now no more remembred.
Char.
The tales of Turtles, ever be forgotten,
Or, for his sake beleev'd.
Man.
I have heard, there has been
Betweene some married paires, such sympathy,
That th'husband, has felt really, the throwes
His wife then teeming suffers, this true griefe,
Confirms, 'tis not impossible.
Clod.
Wee shall finde
Fit time for this hereafter; lets' use now
All possible meanes to help her.
Man.
Care, nor cost,
Nor what Physitians can do, shall be wanting;
Make use of any meanes, or men.
Char.
You are noble.
Exeunt. Man. Clod. Charino.
Sulp.
Ten Colledges of Doctors shall not save her.
Her fate is in your hand.
Hipo.
Can I restore her?
Sulp.
If you command my Art.
Hip.
I'le dye my selfe first.
And yet I'le goe visit her, and see
This miracle of sorrow in Arnoldo:
And 'twere for me, I should change places with her,
And dye most happy, such a lovers teares,
Were a rich monument, but too good for her;
Whose misery I glory in: come Sulpitia,
You shall a long with me, good Zabulon
Be not farr off.
Zab.
I will attend you Madam.
Exeunt
Enter Duarte. and a Servant
Ser.
I have serv'd you, from my youth, and ever
You have found me faithfull: that you lives a treasure
I'le locke up here; nor shall it be let forth,
But when you give me warrant.
Dua.
I rely,
Vpon thy faith; nay, no more protestations,
Too many of them, will call that in question,
Which now I doubt not, she is there.
Ser.
Alone too
But take it on my life your entertainment,
Appearing as you are, will bee but course
For the displeasure, I shall undergoe;
I am prepar'd.
Dua.
Leave me, I'le stand the hazard.
Exit Servant.
The silence that's observ'd, her close retirements
No visitance admitted, not the day;
These sable colours, all signes of true sorrow,
Or hers is deeply counterfeit. I'le looke neerer,
Manners give leave—she fits upon the ground;
By heaven she weepes; my picture in her hand too;
She kisses it and weepes againe.
Enter Guiomart.
Guio.
Whose there?
Dua.
There is no starting back now Madam.
Guio.
Ha, another murderer, I'le not protect thee,
Though I have no more Sonnes.
Dua.
Your pardon Lady,
Ther's no such foule fact taints me
Guio.
What makes thou here then?
Where are my Servants, do none but my sorrowes
Attend upon me? speake, what brought thee hither?
Dua.
A will, to give you comfort.
Guio.
Thou art but a man.
And 'tis beyond a humane reach to do it
If thou could raise the dead out of their graues.
Bid time run back, make me now what I was,
A happy Mother: gladly I would heare thee,
But that's impossible.
Dua.
Please you but to read this;
You shall know better there, why I am sent
Then if I should deliver it
Guio.
From whom comes it?
Dua.
That will instruct you; I suspect this stranger,
Yet she spake something, that holds such alliance,
With his reports I know not what to thinke on't;
What a frown was ther? she looks me through, & through,
Now reades againe, now pauses, and now smiles;
And yet there's more of anger in't then mirth,
These are strange changes; oh I understand it
She's full of serious thoughts.
Guio.
You are just you Heavens,
And never do forget to heare their prayers,
That truly pay their vowes, the defer'd vengeance,
For you, and my words sake so long defer'd,
Under which as a mountaine, my heart groanes yet
When 'twas dispair'd of, now is offerd to me;
And if I loose it, I am both wayes guilty,
The womans maske, dissimulation help me;
Come hither freind, I am sure you know the Gentleman,
That sent these charms.
Duar.
Charms Lady?
Guio.
These charms;
I well may call them so, th'ave won upon me,
More then ere letter did; thou art his freind,
(The confidence he has in thee, confirmes it)
And therefore I'le be open breasted to thee,
To heare of him, though yet, I never saw him,
Was most desir'd of all men; let me blush,
And then I'le say I love him.
Dua.
All men see,
In this a womans vertue.
Guio.
I expected
For the courtesie I did, long since to have seene him,
And though I then forbad it, you men know,
Betweene our harts and tongues, there's a large distance;
But I'le excuse him, may be hitherto,
He has forborne it, in respect my Sonne
Fell by his hand.
Dua.
And reason Lady.
Guio.
No, he did me a pleasure in't, a riotous fellow,
And with that insolent, not worth the owning;
I have indeed kept a long solemne sorrow,
For my freinds sake partly; but especially
For his long absence.
Dua.
O the Devill!
Guio.
Therefore,
Bid him bee speedy; a Preist shall be ready
To tye the holy knot; this kisse I send him,
Deliver that and bring him.
Dua.
I am dumbe:
A good cause I have now, and a good sword,
And something I shall do, I wait upon you.
Exeunt.
Enter Mannuel. Charino. Arnoldo. Zenocio, borne in a chaire. 2. Doctors. Clodio.
Doct.
Give her more ayre shee dyes else.
22
O thou dread power,
That mad'st this all, and of thy workemanship,
This virgin wife, the Master peice, looke downe on her;
Let her minds virtues, cloth'd in this faire garment,
That worthily deserves, a better name
Then flesh and bloud, now sue, and prevaile for her.
Or if those are denyed, let innocence,
To which, all passages in heaven stand open,
Appeare in her white robe, before thy throne;
And mediate for her: or If this age of sinne,
Be worthy of a miracle, the Sun
In his diurnall progresse never saw,
So sweete a subject to imploy it on.
Man.
Wonders are ceas'd Sir, we must worke by meanes,
Arno.
'Tis true and such reverend Physitians are;
To you—thus low I fall then; so may you ever
Be stil'd the hands of heaven, natures restorers;
Get wealth and honours.; and by your successe,
In all your undertakings, propagate
Your great opinion in the world, as now
You use your saving Art; for know good Gentlemen.
Besides the fame, and all that I possess,
For a reward, posterity shall stand
Indebted to you, for (as heaven forbid it)
Should my Zenocia dye, robbing this age,
Of all that's good or gracefull, times succeeding,
The story of her pure life not yet perfect,
Will suffer in the want of her example.
Doct.
Were all the world to perish with her, wee
Can do no more; then what art and experience
Gives us assurance of, we have us'd all meanes
To finde the cause of her disease, yet cannot;
How should we then, promise the cure?
Arn.
Away,
I did bely you, when I charg'd you with
The power of doing; yee are meere names only,
And even your best perfection, accidentall;
What ever malady thou art, or spirit,
As some hold, all diseases that afflict us,
As love, already makes me sensible
Of halfe her sufferings, ease her of her part,
And let me stand the butt, of thy fell malice,
And I will sweare th'art mercifull.
Doct.
Your hand Lady;
What a strange heat is heare? bring some warme water.
Arn.
She shall use nothing that is yours; my sorrow,
Provides her of a better bath, my teares,
Shall do that office.
Zeno.
O my best Arnoldo!
The truest of all lovers! I would live
Were heaven so pleas'd, but to reward your sorrow,
With my true service; but since that's denied me,
May you live long and happy: do not suffer,
(By your affection to me I conjure you)
My sicknesse to infect you; though much love
Makes you too subject to it.
Arn.
In this onely
Zenocia Wrongs her servant; can the body
Subsist, the soule departed? 'tis as easy
As I to live without you; I am your husband,
And long have been so, though our adverse fortune,
Banding us, from one hazard to another,
Would never grant me so much happinesse,
As to pay a husbands debt; despite of fortune,
In death I'le follow you, and guarde mine owne;
And there enjoy what heere my fate forbids me.
Clod.
So true a sorrow, and so feelingly
Exprest, I never read of.
Man.
I am strooke
With wonder to behold it, as with pitty
Char.
If you that are a stranger, suffer for them,
Being tied no further then humanity
Leades you to soft compassion; thinke great Sir,
What of necessity I must endure,
That am a Father?
Hypolita. Zabulon and Sulpitia at the dore.
Zab.
Waite me there, I hold it
Unfit to have you seene; as I finde cause,
You shall proceed,
Man.
You are welcome Lady.
Hypo.
Sir, I come to do a charitable office,
How does the patient?
Clod.
You may enquire
Of more then one; for two are sick, and deadly,
He languishes in her, her healths, despaird of,
And in hers, his.
Hypo.
'Tis a strange spectacle,
With what a patience, they sit unmov'd?
Are they not dead already?
Doct.
By her pulse,
She cannot last a day.
Arn.
Oh by that summons,
I know my time too!
Hypo.
Looke to the man.
Clod.
Apply
Your Art, to save the Lady, preserve her,
A towne is your reward.
Hypo.
I'le treble it,
In ready gold, if you restore Arnoldo;
For in his death I dye too.
Clod.
without her,
I am no more.
Arn.
Are you there Madam? now
You may feast on my miseries; my coldnesse
In answering your affections; or hardnesse,
Give it what name you please, you are reveng'd of;
For now you may perceive, our thred of life
Was spun together, and the poore Arnoldo,
Made only to enjoy the best Zenocia,
And not to serve the use of any other;
And in that she may equall, my Lord Clodio,
Had long since else enjoyed her, nor could I
Have been so blinde, as not to see your great
And many excellencies farr, farr beyond
Or my deservings, or my hopes; we are now
Going our latest journey, and together,
Our onely comfort we desire, pray give it
Your charitie to our ashes, such wee must be,
And not to curse our memoryes.
Hypo.
I am much mov'd.
Clod.
I am wholly overcome, all love to women,
Farewell for ever, ere you dye, your pardon;
And yours Sir; had she many yeares to live,
Perhaps I might looke on her, as a Brother,
But as a lover never; and since all
Your sad misfortunes, had originall
From the barbarons custome practiz'd in my Countrey,
Heaven witnesse, for your sake I here release it;
So to your memory, chast Wives and Virgins
Shall ever pay their vowes. I give her to you;
And wish, she were so now, as when my lust
Forc'd you; to quite the Countrey.
Hypo.
It is in vaine,
To strive with destiny, here my dotage ends,
Looke up Zenocia, health in me speakes to you;
She giues him to you, that by divers wayes,
23
That you were once my servanr, for which health
In recompence of what I made you suffer,
The hundred thousand Crownes, the Citie owes me,
Shall be your dower.
Man.
'Tis a magnificent guift,
Had it beene timely given.
Hypo.
It is beleeve it; Sulpitia?
Enter. a Servant. and Sulpitia.
Sulp.
Madam
Hyp.
Quicke, undoe the charme;
Aske not a reason why; let it suffice,
It is my will.
Sulp.
Which I obey and gladly.
Exit.
Man.
Is to be married sayest thou?
Ser.
So she sayes sir,
And does desire your presence.
They are borne off in chaires
Man.
And tell her i'le come.
Hyp.
Pray carry them to their rest; for though already,
They do appeare as dead, let my life pay for't,
If they recover not.
Man.
What you have warranted,
Assure your selfe, will be expected from you;
Looke to them carefully; and till the tryall,
Hypo.
Which shall not be above foure howers.
Man.
Let me
Intreate your companies: there is something
Of waight, invites me hence.
All.
weell waite upon you.
Exeunt.
Enter. Guiomar. and Servants.
Guio.
You understand what my directions are,
And what they guide you to; the faithfull promise,
You have made me all.
All.
We do and will performe it.
Guio.
The Governour will not faile to be here presently
Retire a while, till you shall finde occasion,
And bring me word, when they arrive.
All.
Wee shall Madam.
Guio.
Onely stay you to entertaine;
1. Ser.
I am ready
Guio.
I wonder at the bold, and practis'd malice,
Men ever haue a foote, against our honours,
That nothing we can do, never so verteous,
No shape put on so pious, no not thinke
What a good is, be that good ne're so noble,
Never so Laden with admir'd example,
But still we end in lust; our aimes our actions,
Nay, even our charities, with lust are branded;
Why should this stranger else, this wretched stranger,
Whose life I sav'd at what deare price, stick here yet?
Why should he hope, he was not here an hower,
And certainly in that time, I may sweare it
I gave him no loose looke, I had no reason;
Unlesse my teares were flames, my curses courtships;
The killing of my Sonne, a kindnesse to me,
Why should he send to me, or with what safety
(Examining the ruine he had wrought me)
Though at that time, my pious pitty found him,
And my word fixt; I am troubled, strongly troubled.
Enter. a Servant.
Ser.
The Gentlemen are come,
Guio.
Then bid 'em welcome—I must retire.
Exit.
Enter. Rutillio. and Duarte.
You are welcome home Gentlemen.
Rut.
I thank you freind, I would speak with your Lady.
Ser.
I'le let her understand.
Exit.
Rut.
It shall befit you,
How do I looke Sir, in this handsome trim?
Exit. Servant.
Me thinks I am woundrous brave.
Duar.
You are very decent.
Rut.
These by themselves, without more helps of nature,
Would set a woman hard; I know 'em all,
And where their first aimes light; I'le lay my head on't,
I'le take her eye, as soone as she lookes on me,
And if I come to speake once, woe be to her,
I have her in a nooze, she cannot scape me;
I have their severall lasts.
Dua.
You are throughly studied,
But tel me Sir, being unacquainted with her,
As you confesse you are—
Rut.
That's not an howers worke,
I'le make a nun forget her beades in two houres.
Dua.
She being set in yeares next, none of those lusters
Appearing in her eye,, that warme the fancy;
Nor nothing in her face, but handsome ruines.
Rut.
I love old storyes; those live beleev'd, Authentique,
When 20. of your moderne faces, are cald in,
For new opinion paintings, and corruptions,
Give me an old confirm'd face; besides she sav'd me,
She sav'd my life, have I not cause to love her?
Shee's rich and of a constant state, a faire one
Have I not cause to wooe her? I have tryed sufficient,
All your young Phillies, I thinke this back has tryed 'em,
And smarted for it too: they run away with me,
Take bitt betweene the teeth, and play the Divels;
A staied pace now becomes my yeares; a sure one,
Where I may sit and cracke no girthes.
Dua.
How miserable,
If my Mother should confirme, what I suspect now,
Beyond all humane cure were my condition?
Then I shall wish, this body had been so too,
Here comes the Lady Sir.
Enter. Guiomar.
Rut.
Excellent Lady,
To shew I am a creature, bound to your service,
And onely yours—
Guio.
Keepe at that distance Sir;
For if you stirr—
Rut.
I am obedient,
She has found already, I am for her turne;
With what a greedy hawkes eye she beholds me?
Marke how she musters all my parts.
Guio.
A goodly Gentleman,
Of a more manly set, I never look'd on.
Rut.
Marke, marke her eye still; marke but the carriage of 'em
Guio.
How happy am I now; since my Sonne fell,
He fell not, by a base unnoble hand?
As that still troubled me; how farr more happy
Shall my revenge be, since the sacrifice,
I offer to his grave, shall be both worthy,
A Sonnes untimely losse, and a Mothers sorrow?
Rut.
Sir, I am made beleeve it; she is mine owne,
I told you what a spell I carried with me,
All this time does she spend, in contemplation,
Of that unmatch'd delight: I shall be thankfull to yee;
And if you please to know my house, to use it;
To take it for your owne.
Guio.
Who waites without there?
Enter. Guard. and Servants. they seize upon Rut. & bind him.
Rut.
How now? what meanes this, Lady?
Guio.
Binde him fast.
Rut.
Are these the bride-lases you prepare for me?
The colours that you give?
Dua.
Fy gentle Lady,
This is not noble dealing.
Guio.
Be you satisfied,
24
You shall not be so long.
Rut.
Do you call this wooing—Is there no end of womens persecutions?
Must I needs foole into mine owne destruction?
Have I not had faire warnings, and enough too?
Still pick the Divells teeth? you are not mad Lady;
Do I come fairely, and like a Gentleman,
To offer you that honour?
Guio.
You are deceiv'd Sir
You come besotted, to your owne destruction:
I sent not for you; what honour can ye add to me,
That brake that staffe of honour, my age lean'd on?
That robd me of that right, made me a Mother?
Heare me thou wretched man, heare me with terrour,
And let thine owne bold folly shake thy soule,
Heare me pronounce thy death, that now hangs o're thee,
Thou desperate foole; who bad thee seeke this ruine?
What mad unmanly fate, made thee discover
Thy cursed face to me againe? wast not enough
To have the faire protection of my house,
When misery and justice, cloose persued thee?
When thine owne bloudy sword, cryed out against thee,
Hatcht in the life of him? yet I forgave thee;
My hospitable word, even when I saw
The goodliest branch of all my blood, lopt from me,
Did I not Seale still to thee?
Rut.
I am gon.
Guio.
And when thou went'st to Impe thy miserie,
Did I not give thee meanes? but harke ungratefull,
Was it not thus? to hide thy face and fly me?
To keep thy name for ever from my memory?
Thy cursed blood and kindred; did I not sweare then
If ever, (in this wretched life thou hast left me,
Short and unfortunate,) I saw thee againe,
Or came but to the knowledge, where thou wanderdst,
To call my vowe back, and pursue with vengance
With all the miseryes a Mother suffers?
Rut.
I was borne to be hang'd, there's no auoyding it.
Guio.
And dar'st thou with this impudence appeare here?
Walke like the winding sheete my Sonne was put in,
Stand with those wounds?
Dua.
I am happy now againe;
Happy the hower I fell, to finde a Mother,
So pious good, and excellent in sorrowes.
Enter. a Servant.
Ser.
The Governours come in.
Guio.
O let him enter.
Rut.
I have fool'd my selfe a faire thred of all my fortunes,
This strikes me most; not that I feare to perish,
But that this unmanerly boldnesse, has brought me to it.
Enter. Governour. Clodio. Charino.
Gov.
Are these fit preparations for a wedding Lady?
I came prepar'd a guest.
Guio.
O give me justice;
As ever you will leave a vertuous name,
Do justice, justice, Sir.
Gou.
You need not aske it,
I am bound to it.
Guio.
Iustice upon this man
That kild my Sonne.
Gove.
Do you confesse the act?
Rut.
Yes Sir.
Clod.
Rutillio?
Char.
'Tis the same.
Clod.
How fell he thus?
Here will be sorrow for the good Arnoldo.
Gover.
Take heed Sir what you say.
Rut.
I have weigh'd it well,
I am the man, nor is it life I start at;
Onely I am unhappy I am poore,
Doore in expence of lives, there I am wretched,
That I have not two lives lent me for his sacrifice;
One for her Sonne, another for her sorrowes.
Excellent Lady, now rejoyee againe,
For though I cannot thinke, y'are pleas'd in blood,
Nor with that greedy thirst pursue your vengeance;
The tendernesse; even in those teares denies that;
Yet let the world beleeve, you lov'd Duarte;
The unmatcht courtesies you have done my miseries,
Without this forfeite to the law, would charge me
To tender you this life, and proud t'would please you.
Guio.
Shall I have justice?
Gou.
Yes.
Rut.
I'le aske it for ye,
I'le follow it my selfe, against my selfe.
Sir, 'Tis most sit I dye; dispatch it quickly,
The monstrous burthen of that griefe she labours with
Will kill her else, then blood on blood lyes on me;
Had I a thousand liues, I'd give e'm all,
Before I would draw one teare more from that vertue.
Guio.
Be not too cruell Sir, and yet his bold sword—
But his life cannot restore that he's a man too—
Of a faire promise, but alas my Sonnes dead;
If I have justice, must it kill him?
Gov.
Yes.
Guio.
If I have not, it kills me, strong and go odly!
Why should he perish too?
Gou.
It lies in your power,
You onely may accuse him, or may quitt him.
Clod.
Be there no other witnesses?
Guio.
Not any.
And if I save him, will not the world proclaime,
I have forgot a Sonne, to save a murderer?
And yet he lookes not like one, he lookes manly.
Hyp.
Pitty so brave a Gentleman should perish.
She cannot be so hard, so cruell harted.
Guio.
Will you pronounce? yet stay a little Sir.
Rut.
Rid your selfe Lady, of this misery;
And let me go, I do but breed more tempests,
With which you are already, to much shaken.
Guio.
Do now, pronounce; I will not heare.
Duar.
You shall not,
Yet turne and see good Madam.
Gov.
Do not wonder.
'Tis he, restor'd againe, thanke the good Doctor,
Pray do not stand amaz'd, it is Duarte;
Is well, is safe againe.
Guio.
O my sweete Sonne.
I will not presse my wonder now with questions—
Sir, I am sorry for that cruelty,
I urg'd against you.
Rut.
Madam it was but justice.
Duar.
'Tis true, the Doctor heald this body againe,
But this man heald my soule, made my minde perfect,
The good sharp lessons his sword read to me, sav'd me;
For which, if you lov'd me deare Mother,
Honour and love this man.
Guio.
You sent this letter,
Rut.
My boldnesse makes me blush now.
Guio.
I'le wipe of that,
And with this kisse, I take you for my husband,
Your woings done Sir; I beleeve you love me,
And that's the wealth I looke for now.
Rut.
You have it.
Duar.
You have ended my desire to all my wishes.
Gover.
Now 'tis a wedding againe. And if Hypollito,
25
She undertooke, the evening will sett cleare.
Enter. Hypollita. leading Leopold. Arnoldo. Zenocia. in either band. Zabulon. Sulpitia.
After a stormy day.
Char.
Here comes the Lady.
Clod.
With faire Zenocia,
Health with life againe,
Restor'd unto her.
Zen.
The guift of her goodnesse.
Rut.
Let us embrace, I am of your order too,
And though I once despair'd of women, now,
I finde they rellish much of Scorpions,
For both have stings, and both can hurt, and cure too;
But what have been your fortunes?
Arn.
Wee'le defer
Our story, and at time more fit, relate it.
Now all that reverence vertue, and in that
Zenocias constancy, and perfect love,
Or for her sake Arnoldo, joyne with us
In th'honour of this Lady.
Char.
She deserves it.
Hypo.
Hypollitas life, shall make that good hereafter,
Nor will I alone, better my selfe but others:
For these whose wants perhaps, have made their actions
Not altogether innocent, shall from me
Be so supplied; that need should not compell them,
To any course of life, but what the law
Shall give allowance to.
Zab., Sulp.
Your Ladishipps creatures.
Rut.
Be so and no more, you man-huckster.
Hypo.
And worthy Leopold, you that with such fervour,
So long have sought me, and in that deserv'd me,
Shall now finde full reward, for all your travelles,
Which you have made more deare, by patient sufferance.
And though my violent dotage did transport me,
Beyond those bounds, my modesty should have kept in,
Though my desires were loose, from unchast art,
Heaven knows I am free.
Leop.
The thought of that's dead to me;
I gladly take your offer.
Rut.
Do so Sir,
A peice of crackt gold, ever will weigh downe
Siluer that's whole.
Gov.
You shall be all my guests,
I must not be denyed.
Arno.
Come my Zenocia.
Our barke at length has found a quiet harbour;
And the unspotted progresse of our loves
Ends not alone in safety but reward,
To instruct others, by our faire example;
That though good purposes, are long withstood,
The hand of Heaven still guides such as are good.
Ex. omnes.
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