University of Virginia Library

Actus Secundus

Scæna Prima.

Enter Iulio, and Angilo.
Iul.
'Tis strange thou should'st be thus, with thy discretion

Ang.
I am sure I am so.

Iul.
I am well you see.

Ang.
Keep your selfe warme then, & go home, & sleepe,
And pray to God thou maist continue so;
Would I had gon to'th Devill of an arrant,
When I was made a foole to see her: Leave me
I am not fit for conversation.

Iul.
Why, thou art worse then I was.

Ang.
Therefore leave me,
The nature of my sicknesse is not eas'd
By company, or councell, I am mad,
And if you follow me with questions
Shall shew my selfe so.

Iul.
This is more then errour.

Ang.
Pray be content, that you have made me thus,
And do not wonder at me.

Iul.
Let me know, but what you meane to do and I am gon
I would be lo'ath to leave you thus else.

Ang.
Nothing
That needs your feare, that is sufficient;
Farewell, and pray for me.

Iul.
I would not leave you.

Ang.
You must and shall.

Iul.
I will then: would yon woman
Had been ten fathom under ground, when first
I saw her eyes.

Ang.
Yet she had been dangerous,
For to some wealthy Rocke of pretious stone,
Or mine of gold as tempting, her faire body
Might have been turn'd; which once found out by labour
And brought to use, having her spells within it,
Might have corrupted States, and ruin'd Kingdomes
Which had been fearefull (Friend) Go, when I see thee
Next, I will be as thou art, or no more.
Pray do not follow me, you'l make me angry.

Iul.
Heav'n grant you may be right againe.

Ang.
Amen.

Exeunt.

Scæna Secunda.

Enter Tavern Boyes &c.
Boy.
Score gallon of Sack, and a pinte of Olives to the Vnicorne.
Above. within.
Why drawer?

Boy.
A non, a non.

Another boy.
Looke into the Nags head there.

2. Boy.
Score a quart of Claret to the Bar,
And a pound of Sausages into the flower-pott.

Enter first Servant with wine.
1. Ser.
The Divell's in their throates, anon, anon.

Enter second Servant.
2. Ser.

Mull a pinte of Sack there for the women in the
Flower-deluce, & put in ginger enough, they belch like
pot guns,

And Robbin fetch Tobacco for the Peacock, they will not be
Drunke till midnight else: how now how does my Master.

2. Boy.
Faith he lyes drawing on a pace.

1. Boy.
That's an ill signe.

2. Boy.
And fumbles with the pots too.

1. Boy.
Then ther's no way but one with him.

2. Boy.
All the rest,
Except the Captaine are in Limbo patrum,
Where they lye sod in sack.

1. Boy.
Does he beare up still.

2. Boy.
Afore the winde still, with his lightes up bravely
All he takes in I think he turnes to Iuleps,
Or has a world of Stoage in his belly,
The rest looke all like fire-drakes, and lye scatter'd
Like rushes round about the roome. My Master
Is now the louing'st man; I thinke above ground,

1. Boy.
Would he were always drunke then.

Within.
Drawer.

2. B.
Anon, anon Sir,

1 B.
And swears I shall be free to morrovv, and so vveeps
And calls upon my Mistris.

2 B.
Then he's right.

1. B.
And svvears the Captain must lye this night with her
And bad me breake it to her vvith discretion,
That he may leave an issue after him:
Able to entertaine a dutch Ambassador,
And tells him feelingly how sweete she is,
And hovv he stoole her from her friendes i'th Countrey;
And brought her up disguiz'd vvith the Carriers,
And vvas nine nights bereaving her her maidenhead,
And the tenth got a dravver, here they come.
Enter Jac. Host, Lod. Piso.
Within cry drawer.
Anon, anon, speake to the Tyger, Peter.

Host.
Ther's my Bells boyes, my silver Bell.

Piso.
Would he vvere hang'd
As high as I could ring him.

Host.
Captaine.

Iac.
Hoe Boy.

Lod.
Robin, sufficient single Beere, as cold as christall,
Quench Robin, quench.

1. Boy.
I am gon Sir.

Host.
Shall vve beare up still? Captaine hovv I love thee?
Sweete Captaine let me kisse thee, by this hand
I love thee next to Malmesey in a morning,
Of things transitory.

Ja.
I love thee too, as far as I can love a fatt man.

Host.
Do'st thou Captaine?
Sweetly? and hartily?

Jac.
With all my heart Boy.

Host.
Then welcome death, come close mine eyes sweet Captaine
Thou shalt have all.

Jac.
What shall your wife have then?

Host.
Why she shall have besides my blessing, and a silver spoone
Enough to keepe her stirring in the world,
Three little Children, one of them was mine
Upon my conscience, th'other two are Pagans.

Iac.
'Twere good she had a little foolish money,
To rub the timea way with.

Host.
Not a rag,
Not a Deniere, no let her spin a Gods name:
And raise her house againe,

Jac.
Thou shalt not dye though,
Boy see your Master safe delivered,
He's ready to lye in.

Host.
God night.

Jac.
God morrow,
Drinke tell the Cow come home, 'tis all pay'd boyes.

Lod.
A pox of Sack.

Host.
Marry God blesse my Buts, Sack is a jewell,
'Tis comfortable Gentlemen.

Jac.
More Beere boy.
Uery sufficient single Beere.

Boy.
Here Sir.
How is it Gentlemen?

Jac.
But ev'n so, so.

Host.
Go before finely Robin, and prepare
My wife, bid her be right and streight, I come boy
And Sitha, if they quarrell let 'em use,
Their owne discretions, by all meanes, and stir not,
And he that's kill'd shall be as sweetly buried;
Captaine, adieu, adieu sweet bully Captaine,
One kisse before I dye, one kisse.

Jac.
Farewell Boy.

Host.
All my sweet boyes farewell.
Exit Host.

Lod.
Go sleep, you are drunke.

Jac.
Come Gentlemen, I'le see you at your Lodging,
You looke not lustily, a quart more.

Lod.
No Boy.

Piso.
Get us a Torch.

Boy.
'Tis day Sir.

Iac.
That's all one.

Piso.
Are not those the stars, thou scurvy Boy?

Lod.
Is not Charle-waine there, tell me that, there?

Iac.
Yes;
I have paid 'em truely: do not vex him Sirha.

Piso.
Confesse it Boy, or as I live I'le beate
Midnight into thy braines.

Boy.
I do confesse it.

Piso.
Then live, and draw more small Beere presently.

Iac.
Come Boyes, let's hug together, and be loving,
And sing, and do brave things cheerely my hearts,
A pox a being sad; now, could I fly
And turne the world about upon my finger,
Come ye shall love me, I am an honest fellow:
Hang care and fortune, we are friendes.

Lod.
No Captaine.

Iac.
Do not you love me? I love you too dearely.

Piso.
No by no meanes; you are a fighting Captaine,
And kill up such poore people as we are, by'th dozens.

Lod.
As they kill flyes with Fox-tailes, Captaine.

Iac.
Well Sir.

Lod.
Me thinkes now as I stand, the Captaine shewes,
To be a very mercifull young man.
(And pre'thee Piso, let me have thy opinion)

Piso.
Then he shall have mercy, that mercifull is,
Or all the Painters are Apocrypha.

Iac.
I am glad you have your witts yet, will ye go?

Piso.
You had best say we are drunke.

Iac.
Ye are.

Lod.
Yee lye.

Iac.
Y'are Rascalls, drunken rascalls.

Piso.
'Tis sufficient.

Iac.
And now I'le tell you why, before I beate yee,
You have been tampring any time these three dayes,
Thus to disgrace me.

Piso.
That's a lye too.

Iac.
Well Sir,
Yet I thanke God I have turn'd your points on you,
For which I'le spare yee somewhat, halfe a beating.

Piso.
I'le make you fart fire Captaine, by this hand,
And ye provoke, do not provoke I'de with you.

Iac.
How do you like this?

Lod.
Sure I am inchanted.

Piso.
Stay till I draw.

Iac.
Despatch then, I am angry.

Piso.
And thou shalt see how sodainly I'e kil thee.

Iac.
Thou darst not draw, ye cold, tame, mangy Cowards
Ye drunken Rogues, can nothing make you valiant?
Not wine, nor beating?

Lod.
If this way be sufferd
'Tis very well.

Iac.
Go ther's your way, go and sleep:
I have pitty on you, you shall have the rest
To morrow when wee meete.

Piso.
Come Lodowick,
Hee's monstrous drunke now, ther's no talking with him.

Exit Lod. & Piso.
Iac.
I am so, when I am sober, I'le do more.
Boy wher's mine Host?

Boy.
Hee's on his bed a sleepe Sir.
Exit Boy.

Iac.
Let him alone then: Now am I high proofe
For my action, now could I fight bravely,
And charge into a wilde fire; or I could love
Any man living now, or any woman,
Or indeed any creature that loves Sack
Extreamly, monstrously; I am so loving,
Iust at this instant, that I might be brought
I feele it, with a little labour, now to talke
With a justice of peace, that to my nature
I hate next an ill Sword: I will do
Some strange brave thing now, and I have it here:
Pray God the ayre keepe out; I feele it buzing.

Exit.

Scæna Tertia

Enter Fredrick, Franck, Clora.
Clor.
Shee loves him too much, that's the plaine truth Fredrick
For which if I might be beleev'd, I thinke her
A strange forgetter of her selfe; ther's Iulio,
Or twenty more—

Fred.
In your eye I believe you,
But credit me the Captaine is a man:
Lay but his rough affections by, as worthy.

Clor.
So is a resty Iade, a horse of service,
If he would leave his nature, give me one
By your leave Sir to make a husband of
Not to be wean'd, when I should marry him;
Me thinkes a man is misery enough,

Fred.
You are too bitter,
I would not have him worse.
Yet I shall see you hamper'd one day Lady,
I do not doubt it, for this heresie

Clor.
I'le burne before; come pre'thee leave this sadnesse;
This walking by thy selfe to see the Divell,
This mumps, this Lachrimæ, this love in sippets;
It fitts thee like a French-hood.

Fra.
Does it so?
I am sure it fits thee to be ever talking,
And nothing to the purpose, take up quickly;
Thy witt will founder of all foure else wench,
I thou hold'st this pace; take up when I bid thee.

Clor.
Before your Brother fly?

Fred.
I can endure it.

Enter Iacamo.
Clor.
Heer's Raw-head come againe; Lord how he lookes?
Pray God we scape with broken pates.

Fra.
Were I hee,
Thou should'st not want thy wish, he has been drinking
Has he not Fredrick?

Fred.
Yes but do not finde it.

Clor.
Peace and let's heare his wisedome.

Fred.
You will mad him.

Jac.
I am somewhat bold, but that's all one.

Clor.
A short and pithy saying of a Souldier.

Fra.
As I live
Thou art a strange mad wench.

Clor.
To make a parson.

Jac.
Ladyes I meane to kisse yee

Clor.
How he wipes his mouth like a young Preacher;
We shall have it.

Jac.
In order as you ly before me; first
I'le begin with you.

Fra.
With me Sir?

Iac.
Yes
If you will promise me to kisse in ease.

Fra.
I care not if I venture.

Jac.
I will kiss according to mine owne inventions
As I shall see cause; sweetly I would wish you,
I love ye.

Fra.
Do you Sir?

Jac.
Yes indeed do I,
Would I could tell you how.

Fra.
I would you would Sir.

Jac.
I would to God I could, but 'tis sufficient,
I love you with my heart.

Fra.
Alas poore heart.

Jac.
And I am sorry; but wee'l talk of that,
Hereafter if it please God.

Fra.
Ev'n when you will Sir.

Clor.
Hee's dismall drunk, would he were musled.

Jac.
You
I take it are the next.

Fra.
Go to him foole.

Clor.
Not I, 'a will bite me.

Jac.
When witt? when?

Clor.
Good Captaine.

Jac.
Nay, and you play boa-peepe; I'le ha, no mercy
But catch as catch may.

Fred.
Nay, I'le not defend ye.

Clor.
Good Captaine do not hurt me, I am sorry
That ere I anger'd ye.

Iac.
I'le tew you for't
By this hand witt, unlesse you kisse discreetly.

Clor.
No more Sir.

Iac.
Yes a little more sweet witt,
One tast more o' your office: go thy wayes
With thy small kettle Drumes; upon my conscienc
Thou art the best, that e're man laid his leg o'er.

Clor.
He smells just like a Cellar,
Fye upon him.

Iac.
Sweete Lady now to you.

Clor.
For loves sake kisse him.

Fred.
I shall not keep my countenance.

Fra.
Trye pre'thee.

Iac.
Pray be not coy sweet woman, for I'le kisse ye,
I am blunt
But you must pardon me.

Clor.
O God my sides.

All.
Ha, ha, ha, ha.

Iac.
Why ha, ha, ha? why laugh?
Why all this noyse sweet Ladyes?

Clor.
Lusty Laurence,
See what a Gentlewoman you have saluted;
Pray God she prove not quick.

Fred.
Where were thine eyes
To take me for a woman, ha, ha, ha.

Jac.
Who art 'a, art 'a mortall?

Fred.
I am Fredrick

Jac.
Then Fredrick is an Asse,
A scurvy Fredrick to laugh at me.

Fra.
Sweet Captaine.

Iac.
A way woman;
Go stich and serve God, I despise thee woman,
And Fredrick shall be beaten; S'blood ye Rogue
Have you none else to make your puppies of, but me?

Fre.
I pre'thee be more patient
Ther's no hurt done.

Iac.
S'blood but there shall be, Scab.

Clor.
Help, help for loves sake.

Fra.
Whose within there?

Fred.
So now you have made a faire hand.

Jac.
Why?

Fred.
You have kill'd me—

Fal as kill'd.
Clor.
Call in some Officers, and stay the Captaine.

Jac.
You shall not need.

Clor.
This is your drunkennesse.

Fra.
O me unhappy Brother, Fredrick,
Looke but upon me, do not part so from me,
Set him a little higher he is dead.

Clor.
O villaine, villaine.

Enter Fabritio.
Fab.
How now what's the matter?

Fra.
O Sir my Brother! o my dearest Brother!

Clor.
This drunken trowgh has kill'd him.

Fab.
Kill'd him?

Clor.
Yes.
For heaven God sake hang him quickly, he will do
Ev'ry day such a murder else. there is nothing
But a strong Gallowes that can make him quiet,
I finde it in his nature too late.

Fabr.
Pray be quiet,
Let me come to him.

Clor.
Some go for a Surgeon.

Fra.
Oh what a wretched woman has he made me!
Let me alone good Sir.

Fab.
To what a fortune,
Hast thou reserv'd thy life.

Ja.
Fabritio.

Fab.
Never entreat me, for I will not know thee,
Nor utter one word for thee, unlesse it be
To have thee hang'd; for God sake bee more temperate.

Jac.
I have a sword still, and I am a villaine.

Clor.
&c. Hold, hold, hold.

Jac.
Ha?

Clor.
Away with him for heavens sake
He's too desperate for our enduring.

Fab.
Come, you shall sleepe, come strive not
Ile have it so, here take him to his lodging, and
See him laid before you part.

Ser.
We will Sir.

Fred.
Ne're wonder, I am living yet, and well,
I thanke you sister for your griefe, pray keepe it
Till I am fitter for it.

Fab.
Do you live Sir?

Fred.
Yes, but 'twas time to counterfeit, he was grown
To such a madnesse in his wine.

Fab.
'Twas well Sir,
You had that good respect unto his temper,
That no worse followd.

Fred.
If I had stood him, certaine one of us must have perish'd,
How now Franke?

Fra.
Beshrew my heart I tremble like an aspine.

Clo.
Let him come here no more for heavens sake
Unlesse he be in chaines.

Fra.
I would faine see him
After he has slept, Fabritio, but to try
How he wil be; chide him, and bring him backe.

Clor.
You'l never leave till you be worried with him.

Fra.
Come brother, wee'l walke in, and laugh a little.
To get this Fever off me.

Clo.
Hang him squib,
Now could I grinde him into priming powder.

Fra.
Pray will you leave your fooling?

Fa.
Come, all friends.

Exeunt.
Fra.
Thou art enough to make an age of men so,
Thou art so crosse and peevish.

Fab.
I will chide him,
And if he be not gracelesse, make him cry for't.

Clo.
I would goe a mile (to see him cry) in slippers
He would looke so like a whay cheese;

Fra.
Would we might see him once more.

Fab.
If you dare
Venture a second tryall of his temper
I make no doubt to bring him.

Clor.
No good Franke
Let him alone, I see his vaine lyes only
For falling out at Wakes and Beare-baitings,
That may expresse him sturdy.

Fab.
Now indeed
You are too sharp sweet sister, for unlesse
It be this sin, which is enough to drown him,
I meane this sowrnesse, he's as brave a fellow,
As forward, and as understanding else
As any He that lives.

Fra.
I doe beleeve you,
And good Sir when you see him, if we have
Distasted his opinion any way,
Make peace againe.

Fab.
I will: I'le leave ye Ladies.

Clo.
Take heed you had best, h'as sworn to pay you else.

Fab.
I warrant you, I have been often threatned.

Clo.
When he comes next, I'le have the cough or toothach,
Or something that shall make me keepe my chamber,
I love him so well.

Fra.
Would you would keepe your tongue.

Exeunt.

Scæna Quarta.

Enter Angilo.
Ang.
I cannot keepe from this ungodly woman,
This Lelia, whom I know too, yet am caught,
Her looks are nothing like her; would her faults
Were all in Paris print upon her face,
Cum Privilegio, to use 'em still.
I would write an Epistle before it, on the inside of her masque
And dedicate it to the whore of Babilon, with a preface upō
Her nose to the gentle Reader; & they should be to be fold
At the signe of the Whores head i'th pottage pot, in what
Street you please: But all this helps not me;—I
Am made to be thus catch'd, past any redresse, with a thing
I contemn too.
I have read Epictetus twice over against the
Desire of these outward things, and still her face runs in
My mind, I went to say my prayers, and they were
So laid out o'th way, that if I could finde any prayers I
Had, I'me no Christian.
This is the doore, and the short
Is, I must see her againe.—

He knockes.
Enter Maid.
Maid.
Who's there?

Ang.
'Tis I, I would speake with your Mistriss.

Maid.
Did she send for you?

Ang.
No, what then? I would see her, prethee by thy leave.

Maid.
Not by my leave; for she will not see you, but doth hate you, and
Your friend, and doth wish you both hang'd, wc h being so proper
Men, is great pitty, that you are not.

Ang.
How's this?

Maid.
For your sweet self in particular, who she resolvs perswaded your
Friend to neglect her, she deemeth whip-cord the most
Convenient unction for your backe and shoulders.

Ang.
Let me in, I'le satisfie her.

Ma.
And if it shal happen that you are in doubt of these my speeches,
Insomuch that you shal spend more time in arguing at the
Dore, I am fully perswaded that my Mistris in person from
Above, will utter her mind more at large by way of
Urine upon your head, that it may sink the more soundly
Into your understanding faculties.

Ang.
This is the strangest thing, good pretty soul, why dost thou use me so?
I pray thee let me in sweet heart.

Maid.
Indeed I cannot sweet-heart.

Ang.
Thou art a handsome one, and this crosseness do's become thee.

Maid.
Alas I cannot help it.

Ang.
Especially to me; thou knowst when I was here, I said I lik'd thee of
All thy Mistriss servants.

Maid.
So did I you, though it be not my fortune to express
It at this present: for truly if you would cry, I cannot
Let you in.

Ang.
Pox on her, I must goe the down-right way: looke you
Here is ten pound for you, let me speak with her.

Maid.
I like your gold well, but it is a thing by heaven
I cannot doe, shee
Will not speake with you, especially at this time, she has affaires.

Ang.
This makes her leave her jesting yet, but take it
And let me see her, bring me to a place
Where undiscern'd of herselfe I may
Feede my desiring eyes but halfe an houre.

Ma.
Why faith I think I can, and I wil stretch my wits
And body too for gold: if you will sweare as you
Are gentle, not to stir, or speake, where you shall
See or hear, now, or hereafter: give me your gold, I'le plant you

Ang.
Why, as I am a Gentleman, I will not.

Maid.
Enough, quicke, follow me.
(Exit Ang. & Maid.
Enter Servant.
Why where's this maid, she ha's much care of her business. Nell?
I thinke she be sunke;—why Nell—whiew—

Maid
within.
Whats the matter?

Enter Maid.
Ser.
I pray you heartily come away, oh, come, come, the Gentleman,
My Mistris invited, is comming down the street, and the banquet
They bring in the Banquet
Not yet brought out?—

Lel.
within.
Nell, Sirha?

Maid.
I come forsooth.

Ser.
Now must I walk: when ther's any fleshly matters in hand, my
Mistris sends me of a four hours errand: but if I goe not
About mine own bodily businesse as well as shee, I am a Turke.
Exit Servant.

Enter Father.
Fa.
What, all wide open? 'Tis the way to sin
Doubtlesse; but I must on; the gates of hell
Are not more passable then these; how they
Will be to get out, God knows, I must try.
'Tis very strange, if there be any life
Within this house, would it would shew it selfe.
What's here? a Banquet? and no mouth to eate,
Or bid me do it? this is something like
The entertainment of adventurous Knights
Entring enchanted Castles: For the manner
Though there be nothing dismall to be seene
Amazes me a little; what is meant
By this strange invitation? I will sound
My Daughters meaning, e're I speake to her,
If it be possible, for by my voyce—
Musique.
She will discover me! hark, whence is this.

The SONG.
Enter Angilo above.

Enter Lelia and her maid with a Nightgowne and Slippers.
Lel.
Sir you are welcome hither, as this kisse
Given with a larger freedome then the use
Of strangers will admit, shall witnesse to you.
Put the gowne on him, in this chaire sit downe;
Give him his slippers: be not so amaz'd,
Here's to your health, and you shall feele this wine
Stir lively in me, in the dead of night.
Give him some wine; fall to your banquet Sir,
And let us grow in mirth; though I am set
Now thus far off you, yet four glasses hence
I will sit here,
And try, till both our bloods
Shoote up and downe to finde a passage out,
Then mouth, to mouth will we walke up to bed,
And undresse one another as we goe;
Where both my treasure, body, and my soule
Are your's to be dispos'd of.

Fa.
Umh, umh.—

Makes signes of his white head & beard.
Lel.
You are old,
Is that your meaning? why, you are to me
The greater novelty, all our fresh youth
Are daily offer'd me, though you performe
As you thinke little, yet you satisfie
My appetite: from your experience
I may learn something in the way of lust
I may be better for. But I can teach
These young ones;
But this day I did refuse
A paire of 'em, Julio, and Angilo,
And told them they were as they were
Raw fooles and whelps. a

(a Ang. makes discontented signes.
Maid.
Pray God he speak not b

(b Maid lais her finger crosse her mouth to him.
Lel.
Why speak you not sweet Sir?

Fath.
Umh.—

(Stops his ears, shews he is troubled with the Musick.
Lel.
Peace there, that musique, now Sir speak
To me.

Fath.
Umh.—

Points at the Maid.
Lel.
Why? would you have her gone? you need not keep
Your freedome in for her; she knows my life
That she might write it;
Thinke she is a stone?
Shee is a kinde of bawdy Confessor,
And will not utter secrets.

Fath.
Umh.—

(Points at her againe.
Lel.
Be gone then, since he needs will have it so,
'Tis all one.
Exit Maid.—Fath. locks the doore.
Is all now as you would? come meet me then,
And bring a thousand kisses on thy lips,
And I will rob thee of 'em, and yet leave
Thy lips as wealthy as they were before.

Fa.
Yes, all is as I would but thou.

Lel.
By heaven 'tis my Father.—

Starts
Fath.
And I do beseech thee
Leave these unheard of lusts which worse become thee,
Then mocking of thy Father; let thine eyes
Reflect upon thy soule, and there behold
How loathed blacke it is; and whereas now
Thy face is heavenly faire, but thy minde foule,
Goe but into thy Closet, and there cry
Till thou hast spoil'd that face, and thou shalt finde
How excellent a change, thou wilt have made
For inward beauty.

Lel.
Though I know him now
To be my Father, never let me live
If my lust do abate.
I'le take upon me
To have known him all this while.

Fath.
Looke, dost thou know me?

Lel.
I knew yee Sir before.

Fath.
What didst thou do?

Lel.
Knew you, and so unmov'dly have you borne
All the sad crosses that I laid upon you,
With such a noble temper, which indeed
I purposely cast on you, to discern
Your carriage in calamity, and you
Have undergone 'em with that brave contempt,
That I have turn'd the reverence of a childe
Into the hot affection of a Lover.
Nor can there on the earth be found but yours
A spirit fit to meete with mine.

Fath.
A woman? thou art not sure.

Lel.
Looke and beleeve.

Fath.
Thou art
Something created to succeed the Devill
When be growes weary of his envious course,
And compassing the world; but I beleeve thee
Thou didst but meane to try my patience,
And do'st so still; but better be advis'd:
And make thy tryall with some other things
That safelier will admit a dalliance:
And if it should be earnest, understand
How curst thou art, so far from heaven, that thou
Beleev'st it not enough to damn alone,
Or with a stranger, but wouldst heape all sins
Unnaturall upon this aged head
And draw thy Father to thy Bed, and hell.

Lel.
You are deceiv'd Sir, 'tis not against nature
For us to lye together; if you have
An arrow of the same tree with your bow,
Is't more unnaturall to shoot it there
Then in another? 'Tis our generall nature
To procreate, as fires is to consume,
And it will trouble you to finde a sticke
The fire will turne from: If't be natures will
We should not mixe, she will discover to us
Some most apparant crossenesse, as our organs
Will not be fit; which if we do perceive
Wee'l leave, and thinke it is her pleasure
That we should deale with others

Fath.
The dores are fast; thou shalt not say a prayer,
Tis not Gods will thou shouldst; when this is done
I'le kill my selfe, that never man may tell me
I got thee.

Fath. draws his sword. Angilo discovers himself.
Lel.
I pray you Sir, help ther, for Gods sake Sir.

Ang.
Hold reverend Sir, for honour of your age.

Fath.
Whoe's that?

Ang.
For safety of your soule, and of the soule
Of that too wicked woman yet to dye.

Fa.
What art thou? and how cam'st thou to that place?

Ang.
I am a man so strangely hither come,
That I have broke an oath in speaking this,
But I believe 'twas better broke then kept,
And I desire your patience; let me in,
And I protest I will not hinder you
In any act you wish, more then by word,
If so I can perswade you, that I will not
Use violence, I'le throw my sword down to you:
This house holds none but I, only a maid
Whom I will locke fast in as I come downe.

Fa.
I do not know thee, but thy tongue doth seeeme
To be acquainted with the truth so well
That I will let thee in: throw down thy sword.

Ang.
There 'tis.

Lel.
How came he there? I am betraid to shame,
The feare of sodaine death strook me all over
So violently, that I scarce have breath
He lets in Ang. and lockes the doore.
To speake yet: But I have it in my head,
And out it shall, that (Father) may perhaps
O're-reach you yet.

Enter Father and Angelo.
Fat.
Come Sir, what is't you say?

Lel.
My Angilo, by all the joyes of love
Thou art as welcome as these plyant arms
Twin'd round, and fast about thee, can perswade thee.

Ang.
Away.

Lel.
I was in such a fright before thou cam'st,
Yon old mad fellow, (it will make thee laugh
Though it feared me) has talkt so wildly here—
Sirrha, he rusht in at my dores, and swore
He was my Father, and I thinke beleev'd it:
But that he had a sword, and threatned me—
I'faith he was good sport, good, thrust him out
That thou and I may kisse together; wilt thou?

Fath.
Are you her Champion? & with these fair words,
Got in to rescue her from me.

Offer to run at him.
Ang.
Hold sir,
I sweare I doe not harbour such a thought,
I speake it not, for that you have two swords,
But for tis truth.

Lel.
Two swords my Angilo?
Thinke this, that thou hast two young brawny armes
And ne're a sword, and he has two good swords
And ne're an arme to use 'em; rush upon him,
I could have beaten him with this weake body,
If I had had the spirit of a man.

Ang.
Stand from me, and leave talking, or by heaven
I'le trample thy last damning word out of thee.

Fat.
Why do you hinder me then? stand away
And I will rid her quickly.

Lel.
Would I were
Cleare of this businesse, yet I cannot pray.

Ang.
Oh be advis'd, why you were better kill her
If she were good; Convey her from this place
Where none but you, and such as you appoint
May visite her; where let her heare of nought
But death and damning, which she hath deserv'd,
Till she be truly, justly sorrowful,
And then lay mercy to her, who does know
But she may mend?

Fa.
But whither should I beare her?

Ang.
To my house,
'Tis large, and private, I will lend it you.

Fa.
I thanke you Sir, and happily it fits
With some designe I have, but how shall we
Convey her?

Lel.
Will they cary me away?

Fa.
For she wil scratch and kick, & scream so loud
That people will be drawn to rescue her.

Ang.
Why? none can hear her here, but her own maid,
Who is as fast as she.

Fa.
But in the streete?

Ang.
Why, we will take 'em both into the Kitchin,
There binde 'em, and then gag 'em, and then throw 'em
Into a Coach I'le bring to the backe-dore,
And hurry 'em away.

Fa.
It shall be so,
I owe you much for this; and I may pay you,
There is your sword, lay hold upon her quickly,
This way with me, thou disobedient childe.
Why do's thy stubborn heart beat at thy breast?
Let it be still, for I will have it search'd
Till I have found a well of living teares
Within it, that shall spring out of thine eyes,
And flow all o're thy body foul'd with sin,
Till it have washed it quite without a stain.

(They drag her.
Lel.
Help! help! ah! ah!
Murther, I shall be murthered, I shall be murthered.

Fa.
This helps thee not.

Lel.
Basely murdered, basely.

Fa.
I warrant you.

Exeunt.