University of Virginia Library

Actus Tertij

Scena 1a.

Diocles. Captaine.
Dio.
Strange Whispers, Couz, strang Whispers.

Cap.
Of What?

Dio.
Nay I'm Loath to be thought to Flatter. [Ther]
There are as Many Titles Coming towards thee as will
Load a Coach and sixe Horses; Thou art sure to Rise

Cap.
Prithee what's the Matter?

Dio.
The Queene's with Child

Cap.
The Deuil shee is.

Dio.
There Leap't a Dogg.

Cap.
With Child!

Di.

Plague on you speake Softly. I would be Loath to
be hangd for your Aduancement. But shee being soe
(Which is the [generall] priuate Whisper) shee'l be thought unworthy
to Rule. Antiope will be proclaim'd, Marries Phocillus
your noble Patron, and soe you Spring up my honourable
Lord.

Cap.

I see Beotto is not altogether a foole, shalt's acquain[OMITTED]
him with't?

Dio.

If you desyre to gett yo
r head a Place upon the Counsaile house to ouer-Looke the Coronation of yo
r Lord, or that 'tis such a fine Thing to Draw all the Women
i'th Cytty to See your Belly ript up while you administer
Matter of Lamentation to the greedy Eyed
Virgins, you may Cry it: The Queene's with Child.

Cap.

Strang. things to undoe Bel«eife». I euer tooke her
and soe I thinke, did all the World for a Peece of—
incomparable Chastity, as shee is the Epitome of all
Externall Exc'lencyes; But what is Woman for Beleife
to build upon?

Dio.

These are not Cates for our Mouthes. 'tis Safer
plotting Treason against Beotto

Cap.

By my Troth, I'm much taken with him.

Di.

Sooth his humour and you haue his heart.

Cap.

I'ue wrought him soe, that hee uerily perswades
himselfe hee shall be Crownd within this Weeke.
I stand Bare to him, Promise to further his Title
with my Sword, and—now thou shalt heare.

Scena 2a.

Beotto. Captain. Diocles.
Beot.

Haue you gott Any more to our side?

Cap.

Eleuen houses of the Plannets stand for you, &
Sixteene Horoscopes are infallibly yours

Beott.

I'l knight 'um all.

Cap.

And the Cittie too most judicially will take
your Part.

Dio.

But my Host o'th'Almanacke sweares rather
then the Queene shall want Banners hee'l display his
twelue Signes against yours. And then his Tapster
Aquarius Mortally defyes yo
r red. Nose.

Beot.

I'le haue 'em both hang'd

Dio.

Noe. Command that none Drinke at's house,
twill undoe them, soe that they must necessarily
Steale, and then you may hang 'em.

Beot.

Putt on yo
r hatt Captaine

Cap.

I beseech you S
r—Before my Prince! Diocles what if wee proclaimd his Son king?

Dio.

I'l neuer Consent toot for I cannot beleiue Beotto
gott him.

Cap.

Why?

Dio.

Hee's Gelded.

Beo.

Is not this fflatt treason now agin?

Di.

Besides hee'l kill himselfe with meere state
ffromety; and cutt up Custards by the Belly, to the
euerlasting Staine of his Whay beard.

Beott.

you will be a Traitour, Diocles.

Dio.

Why you must be rul'd by Counsaile then. I
say yo
r Sonne must Marrie the Princesse, and you must be proclaim'd.

Beot.

And yet I feele I am not quite Done; what
If I ennobled her that way?

Dio.

Why what a Peruerse ffellow are you? I say
agen yo
r Sonne must Marrie her, and you by Uertue of yo
r Majesty may ly with her.

Beot.

And where must hee Ly?

Dio.

O foolish King! Where must hee Ly? why
what a Question's this? Where doe men Ly when—
others Ly with theyr Wiues?

Beot.

Pacience, good Diocles; I'm satisfied

Dio.

On to the Proclamation then—Whereas—Th«e»
most Stupid and Illiterate Beotto being and &. with ye
reasons fo
r your Claime to the Crowne.—

Beot

As that I am Descended from my Grandfather
and then married my Wife out of the Blood Royall, &
that shee Sprung out of three ancient Houses.

Dio.

One new House Man w
c h Sprung out of three Ancient Ones.

Beot.

And then it must Run along w
t h Wee & Our

Dio.

Why now you Speake like a King.—And then
there must be a stipend to some Ballad-Maker; Hee'l
doe more in the Country then a justice of Peace; and
make neither Head nor ffoot of yo
r Enemyes; Hee Can put them into a Woefull Tune

Beot.

I am rul'd by you.

Dio.

Things thus matured, Captaine Aries w
t h his Citty fforces shall Surprize the Court; you at y
e same instant appearing with yo
r Beard halfe-shau'd off, w
c h will aptly signify the Disgrace you haue beene Expos'd too

Beott.

Soe—

Dio.

That noe man for two monthes Space shall
be able to Beard you.

Cap.

A fine Plott.

Di.

Your hatt stuck full of Feathers w
c h will express «e» you haue pluck't your Enemyes Wings. In yo
r hand a Wooden Sword, betokening Mercy

Beot

I hope Right will preuaile. And they that
take my Part perhaps shall be Lords still.

Cap.

Be Secret then.

Beot

But if Natolion should Cause mee to be Whipt
agen about the Court!

Dio.

Tis Crimen Læsæ majestatis Adjudged; Besydes
hee is bound to Repaire your Buttockes out of—
his Monopoly of Fitchet's Skinnes.

Beot.

you doe not mock mee, Diocles.

Dio.

Goe goe and pray, goe. There's Natolion!

Scena Tertia.

Natolion. Florimond. Drawne.
Nat.
What wilt thou turne Beast?

Flor.
Serpent, Anie Thing
That may Expresse Mee Sonne of Such a ffather.
O my Drown'd heart, burst not! A ffather sayd I?
A Tiger, Woolfe, A Deuil in his Shape,
Or Any Thing that is Worse

Nat.
Yet th'art my Sonne.

Flor.
I know not; I am Some
Disease of Nature bred in thee, I thinke,
Else I would kill my Mother: but I cannot
Beleiue I am a Sonne, for then I should not
Sure Runne into Distruction through thy Heart
As now I must. What Monster would haue throwne
His Brood from such a Hope as thou hast mee,.
Thou Denne of Dragans? But I haue a sting here
Shall Eate a Way into my Bloody Reste
Through thy Accursed Bowells.

Nato.
Must I heare this
Ungodly Paricide?

Natolion Breaks his Head. After a Little Pause Florimond Kneels.
Flor.
I thanke you, Sr
This now was like a ffather. you haue quell'd mee;
Yet 'tis your owne Blood this. And Each Drop here
Should trickle from that Rocky heart of yours,
But you are Mercilesse! A ffathars Name
Chaines up the Rage that I might justly Loose
To your Confusion now; then why should you
By Violence pull that Duty from my Heart
Which the Gods gaue mee for your sure Defence?
O you haue wrong'd mee sr, you know you haue.
But it Becomes not mee to tell you soe;
How e're my Rage haz done it (wc h I rue)
Why should you sett your Selfe against my Blisse?
Alas what hurt could my Aduancement Doe you?
Good Sr if you'l not be a ffather to mee,
Yet do not proue a Saturne to Deuoure
Your noble Children. But it is too late
To use these Prayers, for there is nothing stands
But my Hopes Ruines now wc h you haue Sign'd.

Nat.
I am too old to Weepe; but trust mee, Boy
My Heart Bleeds for thee. Prithee Pardon mee
For if thou knewest all thou would'nt Curse mee.

Flor.
O Heau'ns!
What Various Torments Haue you for poore Man?
A Father's Sorrow to a Sonne, «w»ounds more
Then fortie Injuries: Would I had mett
A Ball of Lightning rideing on a Cloud
Er Such a Killing Dart. Begg Pardon of mee?
Alas what am I that you should do soe?
I am soe full of Sorrow to the mouth
It stoppes my vtterance

Nat.
I am thy ffather
In all things but the Matching wt h ye Queen.
In that thy Enemy. Aske mee not why,
I must not tell thee.

Flor.
That unhappy Name
Will follow my Misfortunes to the Dust,
And there I shall be quiete.

Scena 4a.

Calidor. Florimond.
Cal.
Noble ffriend!
Why what's the matter? who hath don this to thee?

Flor.
Who but a ffather Durst, & I a Sword?

Cal.
It Cannot be.

Flor.
I'm Loath to quarrell wt h thee,
But prithee haue a Care.—

Cal.
Howe's this?

Flor.
I Loue thee
Better then Witches doe Reuenge, and yet
Come not too neare for I shall wrong thee much

Cal.
Why this is uery strang!

Flo.
O how my Heart
Aside
Abhorres this Uillanie. Is it not Pitty
Soe to betray that noble Shape to Scorne?
O that I could goe backward from my Oath!
But still it pulls mee—Let mee see thy Sword.

Cal.
Why soe?

Flor.
Why Let mee
Aside.
Would I could make him fight yt hee might kill mee.
Prithee Let's See how thou and I can fight

Cal.
Away away.

Flor.
Wee must wee must by Hercules,
I'l strike thee

Cal.
You will not. Who hath infus'd
These Discontents into thee; Name him to mee
And by my Loue to you (Then wc h the Gods
Know nothing greater) Hee shall feele my Anger.

Flor.
you will not fight then

Cal.
How? with thee?
Not for my Honour if it Lay at Stake.

Flor.
Then you must Sweare to Answere my Request

Kisses his Sword.
Cal.
By my sword I will. I'ue Sworne.

Flor.
How easly are wee Led to wrong our Selues!
Thou'lt giue mee Leaue to kisse thy Ladyes hand,
And be not Iealous, wilt thou Calidor?
I know thou wilt

Cal.
The Chambers of the Dead
Are not more Darke then thou

Flor.
The Queene, the Queene—
In whose bright Eye Loue hath a thousand kingdomes—

Cal.
Why what of Her?

Flor.
Dost thou not feele thy Blood already Warme?
Is not a new Ioy borne into thy Heart?

Cal.
Thou wouldst say something yt I dare not heare.

Flor.
Not heare? why shee's Composd of Harmony,
The Spheares moue in her, and the Wanton Boy
That is a God to others, Waites on her,
And hee Commands thy Loue; nay start not man,
The Gods could doe noe Lesse for thee, in Iustice

Cal.
I cannot thinke shee's such an Enemy
To Virtue to forget thy Ex'lent Merits

Flor.
Shee would Aduance em' ffreind in taking thee.

Cal.
Away! thou Canst not Speake this from thy Heart,
Then doe not thus Dissemble with thy ffriend.
These Are poore Wayes to Sound mee; do not use 'em,
Come you are ouer-Laden with your Ioyes
Since this yor Priuate match; your Eyes instruct mee
Where you haue Layne Last night

Flor.
O Do not mock mee;
The Bed is Kept for thee; And I resigne it.
Goe thriue in Dayly Loosing of thy Selfe
In her Embraces; Plucke her growing Kisses,
And take her Beamy Eyes vnto thy Bosome,
Full of Conserues of Loue and Lasting joy.

Cal.
Why this is uerie Strange, My Thoughts Led mee
To the Beleife that you had married her.

Flor.
O who Can rightly Search a Womans heart!
The Deepest Seas haue Bottoms, and Man's Skill
Can mount into the Bosom of the Starres,
But neuer neuer any trod the Maze
Of Woman's Thoughts; But Pardon mee my freind
'Tis all the Happinesse I now Can hope
To See, thee twining in her Armes, that Waite
To Entertaine thee; I must haue noe nay,
For such a word will kill her.

Cal.
I'l not wrong thee

Flor.
It is noe injurie to a Willing man
And though my Heart must shortly burst wt h Greife
For Speaking thus much, yet to gaine ye World
I would not haue thee slight her.

Cal.
My honest heart
Will nere be brought to it

Flor.
Then may all
The Sorrowes of Mankind be thy Companions,
Thou hast my Curse

Call.
Stay freind—O my sadd Genius
Guide mee for I am Lost in thee.

Scena 5a.

Achæa. Calidor. Antiope Natolion. Phocillus. Alceus. Dorimant
Ach.
My Lords
This is the Gentleman I would haue you obserue
Henceforward as my Husband, and your Prince.
Meethinkes I see you wonder; Pray you why?
Am not I your Vndoubted Queene? It will then
Better becom your Dutyes to Applaud,
Then question my Entents. My Lord, and Loue
The Queene mounts the Chaire & Places Cal: by her
Take thy Owne Spirit, and be what thou art.
This Bashfulnesse is unbeseeming Man;
Giue mee a Sacred kisse; for wee are now soe.

Cali.
Madam since tis your will to think mee Worthy
Yor Sacred Person, & the World's great Enuy
I must not be soe rude to Underualew
What yor Opinion onely has made noble;
But with this boldnesse I could wish yor Loue had
Run in another Channell; you haue Lost
A Better Seruant, and more worthy this Place
Then I am.

Ach.
Lead to the Closset where wee will unite
Two Bodyes to One Soule

Ant.
Good Madam, be more Wise

Ach.
Sister, Because you take upon you first
To interupt my Purpose, you shall Lead
Th'Example to the Rest. My Lord Dorimant,
Take her to Safe Custody. I command it.

Ach.
Tis well.

Pho.
Madam—

Ach.
Peace Sr. Lead on.

Nat.
My Lord Phocillus restraine yor Selfe
Shee will be Lost, & none Can hinder it.

Phocillus Layes his hand on his Sword and his held.

Scen 6a.

Phocillus. Natolion. Alceus
Pho.
What is «a Woman» Sett upon the Deuil!
«Heart shall wee» take this?

Nat.
How Can wee helpe it?

Alc.
A Cast-away! An Upstart!

Pho.
Shall wee that are the Nobles suffer it;
My Lord Can you (whose Son is thus shook off.)
Be Tame now?

Nat.
I must, my Lords,—and yet—

Pho.
Unclaspe your Soule to us; Here are noe Praters

Nat.
You two, (if you were friends) (as you must Lay
Your Priuate Spleenes by for yor Countries Cause)
Can worke much in the Cittie; Make hast thither,
Raise a Commotion. Raither Coyne a Treason
Then Liue to Looke upon your Countryes Ashes;
Had I a thousand hearts they should goe wt h you
In Any Sudden Action you propose

Pho.
I will doe Something. My Lord Alceus,
Here Let our mighty Quarrell Sleepe awhile,
Vntill our Countryes Peacefull Breath, againe
Blow it into a Flame for to Consume
Shake hand«s»
Or One, or Both of us.

Alc.
I am Content

Nat.
Why now you are your selues. I'l not be idle.

Scena 7a.

Florimond. Calidor.
Soft Musiqqe. Tapers lighted, as the Bridall Chamber.
Flo:
Welcom soe neare thy Ioyes; I'l bid good Night;
Yet giue mee Leaue to see thee Layd abed,
Perhaps twill make mee Weepe. O pardon mee
I doe not Enuy thee; But that my Heart
Might find some Ease

Cal.
Did euer Bridegoome goe
Soe full of Lead as I to meet his Ioyes?
Meethinkes the Chamber should haue mourn'd in Black
And the Sadd Owle haue Sung; The fatall Batt
Should haue put out the Candles; And my ffoot
Mounted from a Sadd Coffein to my Bedd
Where I should haue imbrac't a Cold cold Carcasse
And then it had beene Well My wronged ffriend
What shall I doe?

Flo.
Why gett a Race of Angells

Cal:
I would I could as easly giue my shape
As I can doe my Life, Thou shouldst not Lye
With Greife to Night, for I, meethinks, doe goe
To this strang Thing, as to a ffunerall;

[Cal]
Hearke.

Flor.
What's the Matter?

A shrike wt hin. Arist: and Lady runne ouer the Stage, in ye i r: Actions expressing feare. They enter againe, And say ye Court is up at the Noyse, & in yt perplexity runne in and Out.
Cal.
There's a strang Noyse, meethinkes
In the Queen's Lodgings. «What» waites wt hin there

Scena 8a.

Ariste. Florimond. Calidor Cleander. Beotto.
Ari.
My Lord!
A Shrieke wt hin.
You must not Enter yet; The Queene's not Well.

Cal.
What makes that noyse then? Stand away.

Ar.
My Lords
Pray be not unciuil! Alas they'l all Come!
Beotto Breakes in, and enters agen.
Beotto you unmanly Rogue!

Cal.
How does the Queene?

Beot.
Not uerie well indeed, shee hath not done;
onely miscaried a Little. A fine Queen! A great queen
A great Bellyed Queene! O braue Gods!

Cal.
Ha! Breake Ope the Dores.

Ar.
Alas my Lord, What would you see! Do not
Make hauock of the Honour of yor Queene.
Alas y'are wrong'd. Shee's in Labour! My Lord
Cleander for heauen's sake goe Downe,
The Kingdom's Honour Bleeds too much alreadie.
Ah mee what meane you?

Clean.
Shee makes good hast, by my ffaith.

Scena 9a.

Calidor. Florimond.
Cal.
Are these the Mariage Nights in Corsica?
O Florimond how Loath I am to thinke
Thou art a Deuil! Prithee Draw thy Sword
That I may doe thy fflesh a Courtesy
In ridding it of Such a filthy Soule.

Flor.
Most noble ffriend (for I must Call you soe
What ere you say to mee) I haue offended,
Forgiue mee, and the Queene, whose Raging Loue
Swore mee unto this Infidelity
Of the gods, and their justice

Cal.
Flatter the Beare
With honey when th'hast robb'd her of her Whelpe«s»
Or take the Angry Lyon by the Paw
When thou hast prick't him; but my Noble Rage
Is not to be Deluded. Wicked Man
To kill with freindship! Is it possible
The Temple of the gods should proue a Stewes
For Pandarisme and falshood? Draw, that I
May send thee straight to Hell

Flor.
There's none Worse
Then this I beare about mee

Cal.
Friendship! nothing
But a meere Stale to Couzen fooles wt hall!
O that I knew but whose this Bastard [was] is!—
But I must turne to thee, thou false Seducer,
And Search thy Heart for him. I prithee Draw.

Flor.
Putt off your Doublet first

Cal.
With as good a Will
As I would not my fflesh

As Cal: is putting off his Doublett Flor. runnes away.
Flor.
Farewell for Euer.

Scena 10

Calidor.
Cal.
Stay Coward, for my Uengeance is too Swift
For thee to fly from—The Dore Bolted After him!
How much too Cunning is the World for Honesty!
Wee Lay our Sleeping Soules upon the Grasse
And thinke there is noe Serpents. What a Wrong's this?
O why did Neptune Spew mee on this Shore
To find a Worse Sea here? But Come my Sword
Thou art not false yett: ffree mee from this Shame
As thou hast oft from Danger, and I'l need
Noe «other» Epitaph, nor Monument.
Thou art the Wretches Helpe, & the Phisitian
To the most Desperate, but to mee the ffriend,
That when the World shall finde us, will be Crept
Into my Bosome—The Earth still deceiues mee.
But this for all. Agen! Ha! then my Sword,
«H»e offers to fall upon his Sword, and it Slippes from him.
I doe perceiue thou art a Loyall Seruant,
And wilt not kill thy Master. Be it Soe;
Thou doest Admonish well; It is not Uertue
To fly from, But to Conquer Shame, and ffortune

Scen. 11

An Alarum.
Natolion, Phocillus. Alceus. Dorimant Cleander—Calidor. Seruant.
Nat.
Tis brauely done my Lords. y' haue rais'd a fforce
To Awe the Court; And 'twas high Tyme you see
To Stopp these ills. The Queene for Certaine hath
Brought forth the Kingdom's Shame, And you my Lo:d s
Phocillus, and Alceus, «**» you may See
What use I meane to make of this yor Action
I will prouide you of a Handsom Lodgeing

Pho.
Lodging!

Nat.
In a Sure Place to
Keepe you from running into harme. Dorimant
You know my Mind; Conuay 'em safe to Prison

Pho.
Confine us!

Nat.
You may Spare this rage, my Lords

Pho.
That I could pull the ffates about my Eares!
Why to A Prison?

Nat.
Onely because
Y'are turbulent Whirle-winds yt I cannot rule.
Pray make 'em safe.

Alc.
Where are the fforces wee Rais'd?

Nat.
O I'le make [y] Vse of them;
Goe to the ffellowes that these lords haue Rais'd
And tell em they are Busyed: but they Wish 'em
To Proclayme Calidor King by the knowne name
Of Prince Lycomedon

Pho.
How. us«e» the Visards of thy Treasons Uillaine
These are trim Engins by my Life Natolion.
Lycomedon! Poore Prince! Cannot ye Dead
Escape your Treasons? Must hee Suffer int?
O that I had a Basilisk within Mee!

Nat.
Away with 'em.
You Sirrah, post into ye Citty Presently
And Warne the Cheifest to Stand to Morrow
As Early as the Sunne. Most noble Prince
Thus Low my Duty to you

A Shout wt hin. Lycomedon Lycom:

Scena 12a.

Florimond. Nato«lio»n
Flo
Good my Lord
Doe not still heape up fresh Disgraces on mee,
I haue as many full as I can beare;
If I grow troublesom unto yor state
Murther mee plainely, or say I am a Trayt
And doe not make you Sport at my Misfortunes

Nat
True and undoubted King of Corsica,
Haile.

Cal.
Doe not make mee madd,
Doe not my Lord. Although your Queen was Pleas'd
To make mee the great Mirrour of Contempt
It was noe will in mee to be a King,
Which since I am in right of my Sadd wrong
You should remember some Respect is Due here.

Nat.
Sr you are King in yor owne right, not hers
And you shall take't upon you

Cal.
And Loose my Head
This is a peece of state indeed

Nat.
Will you in?

Cal.
I'm not acquainted wt h yor Plotts of State
Good my Lord, what meane you? your Bare head
Is worse then insolence to [you] mee. Do not mock mee.

Nat.
Haue you noe Beleife? I'le draw you hence.

Cal.
On what Uncertaine Seas does poore man Saile?
A Billow Carries him to Plutoes Barres,
And then anon rebounds him 'gainst the Starres

Nat.
Come, I'le undoe the Ridle.