University of Virginia Library

Actvs 4.

Scena 1.

Liuely
solus.

Scen. 2.

Liuely, Lucius.
Liue.
See where hee comes; but yet how heavily!
How full of earth mee thinks his paces bee!
Hee lookes as though his teeth had playd this fortnight,
Kept Holyday. But I'le accost him.—Lucius.

Luc.
The Gods befriend thee, whosoe're thou art,
That I am thought worth naming yet, not lost
Vnto all mankinde quite, though to my selfe!

Liue.
These words doe favour of too much distraction.
You must take comfort sir.

Luc.
Who's that dares talke
Of comfort to me? But once name the word
That is exil'd whole Nature? good Mr Liuely
Wast you that spoke?

Liue.
It was, and I must haue you
Remoue this same December from your lookes:
I come to make you happy.

Luc.
Thou art come
To loose thy labour then; I am below
Both all the loue, and all the spight of Fortune,
Shee will not make mee happy, and shee cannot
Make mee more wretched then I am. I lye,
Shee may doe both. But speake thou reverend head,
Has ought that's good befallen my Neander,
That thou dar'st venture out that name of happy
So confidently upon me?—say.

Liue.
There has,
But more to you!

Luc.
What's that?

Liu.
Good, happinesse.

Luc.
How? happinesse to me? thou should'st haue put
The space of fifteene ages 'twixt those words,
They are so farre from reconciliation;
Thou hast no Grammar in thee, know'st no concord.

Liue.
But I haue Musicke in me, and that's better.
I'le make thee daunce my solitary one.
Pandora shall be thine to day.

Luc.
How? mine to day?

Liue.
Thy wife, thy selfe, but in another character.

Luc.
Vnspeak't againe, it must not be.

Liue.
It must.

Luc.
Doest thou intend to buy me to thee? and
To breake me and my fortunes with a courtesie,
Which I shall ne're be able to repay?
Imploy thy art then, all thy quicker plots
To further my Neander in his loue:
Who by how much the more his vertues be
Greater then mine (who hardly haue so much
As will redeeme me from the name of vicious)
So much the more will apprehend the benefit,
So much the more reward thee.

Liu.
Speak no further,
Pandora's thine, shee's thine, thine owne, beleeu't.
Hee is already married to another.

Luci.
I doe confesse that I am something fallen
Oft from that height of reason which before,
While I had libertie, I did enjoy:
But thou do'st wrong me much, if thou do'st thinke
That Loue has eaten up all man in mee.
I tell you, I doe know your plots, your drifts,
And all your consultations, as well
As if I had had a cabbin in your bosome,
And had from thence betrayd them; did not I
Heare when Neander did sollicite thee
For to procure a Masculine Bride for him?
Did not I heare thee promise him to doe it?
Hast thou not now perform'd it? are not they
By thy procurement now contracted? speake;
'Tis not so easie to deceiue the eyes
Of Loue, how e're our franticke Poets say
He feeds on nought but Lolium.

Liue.
Lucius,
As I doe hope to liue, as I doe prize
My lungs, my breath, laughter, and sacke, (beleeue me)
I haue Neander fast, hee's married
To one that is as truely woman, as
Was she that did produce thee, and because
You shall be certaine of't, 'tis Constantina.

Luc.
But canst thou utter this (without a blush?)
Or hath thy many yeeres
Block'd up those channels of thy blood, that now
They are not able to afford that face,
(That starved face of thine, bankrupt of vertue)
The least reliefe? but I'le undoe your plots.
Since you doe force me, I'le confesse a secret,
Which hitherto I'ue hardly whispered
Vnto my privat'st thoughts. I am no husband,
No husband (marke you) for Pandora, nor
For any woman living; for kind Nature
Has stamped Eunuch on mee from my cradle.

Liu.
What do I heare?

Luc.
That wc h is true.

Li.
An Eunuch!

Scen. 3.

Liuely, Neander, Constantina velatâ facie, Lucius.
Liue.
But see Neander comes with his new Bride.

Nean.
Why doe you weepe and sigh so boy? no more.

Luc.
Doe you heare that?

Nean.
But see my Lucius.
I must quite alter my discourse, my garbe,
And all my actions. Hence dull melancholly,
I now must finde a face that must out-smile
A morne in Iune. Lucius, a thousand hayles.

Constan.
Vnhappy Constantina! to whom Fate
Neither permits to liue, nor yet to die.

Liu.
Break off those sighs you peevish girle, or i'le—not yet?

Nean.
What meanes this strange and ponderous eye?
As though you were to take our Altitudes
Lucius? what? and doe you smile? faith speake.
How doest thou like my Choyce? perhaps you wonder
At this so sudden match; but (Friend) you see
What Love and a faire Gentlewoman can doe.

Liue.
I am the boldest wretch aliue. It cannot,
Cannot be long before he needs must know her.
What will become of thee then Liuely? ha?
You must be sure not to unvaile him Sir,
The boy would not be knowne.

Nean.
What muse you on
So deepely Lucius? does your first sonnes name
You shall beget on the most faire Pandora
Perplex you now? come on, I'le answer for you,
He shall be called Fortunate.

Luc.
Not so,
Rather that name belongs to you Neander,
That shall haue no such care to trouble you:
For if my art deceiues me not (faire creature
Your hand) this wife of yours is never likely
For to beare children, but on her backe, or armes.

Nean.
Why pray thee sweet?

Luc.
'Cause in this little vale
That lies at the foot of Venus mountaine, here,
I doe discover something too much for mother,
Come, come, Neander, these are poore devices,
Trickes of the Scene, and stale, they will not take.
And you gray haires, me thinks that thou shouldst owe
A greater and more filiall reverence
To the faire Ceremonies of the Church, then thus
To stalke with them, to make them stales unto
Such base ridiculous—

Liue.
Lucius, doe but heare.

Luc.
I will not heare thee.

Liue.
Here's a benefit
Plac'd most deservingly! I doe not like it.

Nean.
I do not apprehend him.

Luc.
A faire gowne
Indeed, and sope, and starch enough, to dazle
The eyes of some young countrey heire, that has
Never been drill'd through Drury lane, or Bloomsbury.
But 'pray thee (friend) whose daughter hast thou married?
What may she haue to name?

Nean.
What shall I answer?
I am i'th bryers.

Liue.
Tell him 'tis Constantina
Our Iustices Neece.

Nean.
Most excellent dissembler!
As though you know not Constantina sir.

Luc.
But is this Constantina?

Nea.
True.

Liu.
'Tis truer;
Somewhat then you doe beleeue it is.

Luc.
Is this
Iacke Loveall's sister?

Nean.
'Tis.

Luc.
But is this shee
Whom Cleopes once lov'd, and has forsaken?

Const.
O me! why doe I liue and heare that name?

Liue.
Did you not mark that sigh? how smartly't came?
No, no, I haue not fitted you, I haue not.
'Tis a young Roscius I tell you. No sooner
Was Cleopes nam'd, but the arch-villaine sigh'd,
As if it had been truely Constantina.
I doe not like this businesse yet.

Luc.
Is this
That cryed up wonder? that Fidelia?
A sodaine change.

Sce. 4.

Placenta, Liuely, Lucius, Neander, Constantina.
Pla.
Yet at the last? 'tis well, I'le giue the word
Vnto Pandora: but with speciall care
That the boy knowes not of his Masters presence?

Liu.
What businesse is't that this same Midwifes face
Does fetch and carry thus about I wonder?
Hy, shee appeares againe.

Plac.
All health old man.

Liu.
Old? and how old? but what's the newes that you
Are rig'd with now? and whither bound I pray you?

Plac.
Next to that loving payre of friends, whose sorrowes
I haue lamented oft, and amongst which
I iudge it not the least, that while yee two
Discourse in sighes, and teares, that wanton mayde
That is the cause of all your heauinesse,
Lasciuiously does sport herselfe, and melts
In the embraces of an other.

Amb.
How?

Plac.
Regardles of your woes, or her owne honour.

Nean.
Now all the Gods! where is he?

Luc.
Woman speake,
What is hee for a man?

Plac.
I know him not,
So farre as to his name; but this mine eyes
Dare witnesse, tis a composition
Of blood and spirits not to be despis'd.
A feature able enough to tempt; besides—

Luc.
Neander, whil'st wee striue about the shaddow
Wee haue the substance ravish'd from vs.

Nean.
Ha?
It cannot bee, 'tas noe affinitie
With truth; It must not bee belieu'd good Lucius.

Plac.
Can yee retyre your selues vnder this tree
A little, and expect? but e're I goe,
Yee shall both promise as yee'r Gentlemen
To endure the sight with patience.

Amb.
Wee will.

Plac.
It is enough.
Exit Plac.

Luc.
But does this woman gull vs?
Or is it reall think'st thou?

Liu.
Harke.

Luc.
No more.

Sce 5.

Placenta. Lucius. Pandora. Neander, Endymion. Liuely. Constantina
Plac.
Can yee belieue it yet? are your eyes yet
Instructed?

Luc.
Tis my boy Endymion,
Now hell and tortures!

Pan.
Were all odours lost,
And beggered Nature had not sweetes enough
T'embalme the dying Phœnix left, from hence
From this same lip, Shee might restore her selfe.

Nean.
Ah Lucius! must he not dye?

Luc.
Neander,
It is a sacriledge vnpardonable
To pluck him from that Altar.

Pan.
Once more sweet—
Two pendant Cherryes when some gentle gale
Makes them to kisse, meete not with such a touch!

[They both draw, and run at him, he saues himselfe behind Pandora.]
Luc.
Villaine, and Traytour dye.

End.
O me! my Master.—

Plac.
What doe you meane? ah.

Pan.
Alas.—Sweet Gentlemen.—

[Shee layes hold on Neanders arme.
Luc.
Did all mankinde inhabit in that breast,
I'de put the Gods vnto a second trouble
For to create that species a new.

Nean.
Woman forbeare.

Liu.
I doe not like these tumults.
I'le get me home and drinke a cup of Sack.

Pand.
Neander,—
Lucius,—
Ah by that Monster of my loue, your friendship,
Lucius, by these eyes of mine, which thou
A thousand times and more hast dar'd to liken
Vnto the brighter starre of Venus, which
Is both the Prologue and the Epilogue
Vnto the glorious Sun: By thine owne eyes
Which are two clearer starres, I doe coniure thee
Forbeare to prosecute such a reuenge
Vpon this innocent Boy: for here I sweare
By all those blessed powers, which know our thoughts,
I neuer lou'd him.

Nean.
Most impudent woman,
Did not our eyes behold it?

Luc.
O Neander,
Why doe we stand thus coldly here? and not
Hew out a passage through this prostitute
To trauaile to the iust destruction
Of her base Louer, and my baser vassaile?

Pan.
Rather let all your fury end in me,
See here my naked brest imploy your valours:
Why doe you stand and gaze one on another?
What is the naked bosome of a Virgin
A spectacle of such terrour? if it be,
And that the fight of it hath cool'd your blouds,
Then heare me speake: you Lucius may remember
That ancient stock of loue, those many vowes,
Those many teares, those many longings, which
Haue past betwixt vs: nor can you iustly stile it
A fault of mine, that Time is now so old
And yet does see vs two; but partly yours
Partly my fathers neerenesse (for I must not
Giue it the name it merits, Couetousnesse)
Who seeing your so feruent loue vnto me,
Did striue to thrust me out with nothing, or
At least with such a portion, as you lik'd not;
Whilst thus I wauered, betwixt hope, and feare,
It fortun'd, that this Gentleman Neander
Became your Riuall: who had not long beene here,
Not long sollicited, but I (shame of women)
Began to loue yee both, and which is more
I lou'd yee with an equall flame, (but see
What Pageants Cupid can play I) it chanc'd
(Contrary to all mens expectations)
That by degrees such a strong tye of friendship
Did grow betwixt yee, that each of yee refus'd
(For his friends sake) what then was proferr'd you,
My loue; whilst I bewayl'd my miseries
Vnto this Midwife here, my friend, and grieu'd
At this my harder fortune—Good Placenta
Shee weepes.
Giue them the rest.

Plac.
Then take it in a word.
Supposing it the onely way to winne
One of you to her, I counsail'd her to faine
A loue vnto some other Gentleman.
Whilst we were busie in these Consultations,
As fortune would, your Page Endymion
Came hither (Lucius) to seeke his Master.
We lay the trayne for him, shee courts the Boy,
And he (poore Lad) thinking her serious
Was caught immediatly.

Luc.
But is this true?

Pan.
Would I could call it false—But otherwise
Then was expected hath it prospered.

Shee weepes.
Con.
Placenta, ah Placenta.

Pla.
Who's that calls me?

Con.
Shall I disclose my selfe? I am asham'd.

[They put vp their swords.]
Nean.
If it be so, Pandora, we craue pardon.
And doe restore him life; but now (faire soule)
If thou do'st ayme to reach a life so happy
So full of all content, that thou may'st sit
Within thy Sphere (like Venus) and looke downe
On all thy Sex, and pitty them; loue this man.

Nean.
Loue this man. For as for my selfe I am
Already furnish'd with a Mistris, see
My wife here—Sweetest wife.

Pand.
Is this your wife?
I judge her happy who so e're shee is,

Luc.
Beleeue him not, this is a Boy, a villaine
(Whom I, but that—)

Nean.
Lucius forbeare.

Luc.
Drest vp
In womans Cloathes by that same dotard Liuely.
Sweetest Neander leaue.

Nean.
It is a woman.

Luc.
By all the gods, it is a boy, 'tis false.
But for to rob you of all hope of mee
Giue me but eare, I am an Eunuch, if
You can endure to haue a frozen statue,
Sleepe by your side, whilst you awake, recount
The tedious minutes of your widdowed nights
And sigh, and thinke, and thinke, and sigh againe,
Behold an husband for you, I am he.

Shee swonnes.
Pan.
O me! an Eunuch?

Plac.
Hold the Gentlewoman
Ay me! shee swonnes, sweetest Pandora, ah.

Luc.
What is the matter?

Plac.
Ah good Lucius helpe,
Shee's gone—alas good heart. What shall I doe?

Nean.
But see shee breathes againe.

Plac.
Ah hony sweet
Pandora speake.

Pan.
Ah!
Hands off thou out-side of a man; and thou
Uxorious creature, I doe craue no ayde
From you, forbeare.

Plac.
How doe's my sweetest hony?

Pan.
I am not well Placenta, let vs goe
Into your house a while.

Luc.
Please you faire Lady
To vse my seruice?

Pan.
How? Your seruice sir?
You can doe nothing, nor doe I expect it.
But if your loue towards me be worthy, lend mee
Your Page, but for an houre.

Luc.
Hee is yours.

Pan.
Then sir adiew.

Nean.
Shall I be vanquish'd thus
Exeunt Plac. Endym.
In friendship? But I will once more to Liuely.
And see what further counsell hee will giue mee,
Faire wife let's goe—Rise vp you villaine boy;
Lucius farewell.

Exit.
Luc.
What is he gone? so soone?
To's Engineer I know, to his contriuer;
But I will follow them so fast, that not
A syllable shall passe without my Knowledge.
Stipes runnes against Lucius.
How now you Rascall? where are your eyes I wonder?

Exit.

Sce. 6.

Stipes solus.
Stip.

In as a good a headpeece as yours, I warrant you that,
for all your fine cloathes, Sauds, I thinke my penny as good siluer
as yours, euery day i'th weeke, I'le tell you but so.

A Mayde of eighteene, to play with babes-clouts, well 'tis no
matter, Let that passe though, goe to, goe to, 'tis an ill winde that
blowes no body good, cry I, sure I rose o'th right side to day, I shall
haue a seruant by and by, and a lusty Knaue too, and here's the
chincke, the chincke; as I was getting this rod euen now, for my
wise daughter, comes me Terpanders sonne, the angry boy, the
smoaker of Tobacco, the whorson which could not endure his mother,
Sduds I was afraid at first to see my selfe alone with him,
he did to stare with'is rowling eyes, and 'twas no force by'r Lady,
for I had fiue good shillings in my purse; But he to put me out of
doubt salutes me most louingly, as thus, Stipes God saue you, Saue
you Stipes—no, Stipes God saue you—Stipes be hang'd—
a blockhead, Sduast J doubt I should make but a scuruie Gentleman,
I want the trick ont.—But let that passe though, I haue the mony
here, and presently, my man will come, which Anteros will
send me, whom, if I haue not pay'd me euery morning my forty
brace of legges and caps—no more.

Sce. 7.

Anteros disguised. Stipes.
Ant.

Why so, I'me fairely accoutred, as becomes a Sheepheards
seruant—But swig for see my Master. Here must I
quite disrobe my selfe of all my former manners, garbe, behauiour,
and put the plod o'th' Country on.—

Stip.
How now?
He whistles and dances:
What iolly whistler haue vve got here trow?
Hi, hi, a dancer too? I, I, by'r Lady
For ought I know, this is the man I spoke of,
Or else if not, here's one could wish hee were.
A sturdy knaue, a lusty proper knaue.
I like him well, he ha's backe for burthens.
You Sirrah, you;

Ant.
What say you, you?

Stip.
I say whom doe you seeke here you?

Ant.
I seeke a Sheepheard you.

Stip.
I am a Sheepheard.

Ant.
But I seeke a Sheepheard, whose name is Stipes.

Stip.
I am the man you knaue, you come from Anteros?

Ant.
Yeas.

Stip.
To serue mee?

Ant.
Yeas.

Stip.

In good time, how now saucy Iacke? how now proud,
prodigall knaue? where are your twenty legs vnto your Master?
Goe to, Goe to, to worke, begin, well said. Anteros makes legs.
1. 2. 3 4 5 6. So, so, enough, I doe forgiue the rest. Turne you
about, vm, vm, a good squat fellow, a well quarterd man, By'r
Lady, and if hee had but meanes would make a pretty husband
for my daughter Merda.

Ant.

Has he a daughter? and are there women here? o o o—
O I am fallen from heauen into a Colepit!

Stip.

Why Merda, I say, my daughter Merda I say,
the foolish girle's affrayd I know, go to, go to, I will forgiue her.
Merda I say. But you Sir Squire 'oth' dog, what is your name?
Hy, which way looke you?

Ant.

My name is Ieoffry.

Stip.

I, I, how now? how Ieoffry? a hard name by'r Lady.
why when?

Ant.
O I could creepe into a catskin purse,
Endure the sent of a Court-fardingall
For a concealement now.

Sce. 8.

Merda. Stipes. Anteros.
Merd.

Good-hony-sweet-sugercandy Father, forgiue mee
but this time, and if euer I doe so any more, I'le neuer bee seene
neither hyde, or hayre againe.

Stip.

Ho, ho, oho, ho a great lob, stand vp.
I doe forgiue you, but on this condition, that for your penance
you shall weare this rod, stucke at your backe till night.

Mer.

With all my heart good Father sticke it on.

Stip.

So: how doest thou like my man Chuckin? goe to,
looke on him well.

Merd.

Does hee come a wooing Father? if hee does, I'le

run away, and make him beleeue I'me coy.—

[She offers to run into the house. Hee puls her backe with his hooke.]
Stip.

Whither now you great baggage? You'l come againe?
But stay am not I an old foole? an old dotardly foole, that haue
not enquir'd what my man can doe yet? Ieoffry.—

Mer.

Is his name Ieoffry? Father, good father doe, pray you
father let him dwell with vs, you know you promis'd me, that
you would hire a man, and buy him a Cloake, that he might goe
before mee as they doe before Gentlefolkes daughters, when my
new gowne was made, I that you did, so marry did you.

Ant.

What haue wee now to doe?

Stip.

Peace and catch a mouse.

Mer.

There's claglocks enow 'ith house to make him a cloak
Sweete—hony—sugar—comfit father let him.

Stip.

No more. Ieoffry, how now you sloutch? how doe
you stand? Come hither, goe to, goe to, did you euer weare a
cloake in your life? answer mee roundly.

Ant.

No not I, I can't tell how.

Stip.

Ah beggars brat! how now? but I must haue you
learne, that you may man your young Mistris there sometimes.
Come on let mee, see how finely you can doe the feat, walke before
her, follow him daughter.

[Hee walkes, Merda stayes behind, tying her shoe.]
Ant.

Here's a sweete office!

Stip.
You great lobcocke you.
[Hee beats him.]

Ile teach you to looke behind you, to see whether your
charge followes, or no, what? would you bee gadding without
your charge?

Ant.

I, am I arriu'd at this?—whoffer did you strike one?

Stip.

Doe you prate too? looke you here, marke but mee, I
haue seene the day, when I could haue stinged it before my sweet
heart.—short and thicke cittizen like, you maukin, what? two acres
breadth at a stride? I, I by'r Lady; Ile cut you short in smock-timber,
for this minion; is your smock so wide, with a murren
to you? short and thick cittizen like: how now?

Sce. 9.

Stipes. Anteros. Merda. 2 Rusticall Seruants. two Mayds. Fidlers.
1. Rust.

Hy, strike vp braut boyes, hy, for our towne.

Stip.

Hy, for your towne say you? you are a company of lazy,

lubberly knaues, there's the short and the long on't, ho, ho, boyes,
ho, ho boyes? what drabs too? girles too? doxyes too? yee
are a company of slowbackly Queanes, there's sauce for your celes.

2. Rust.

Come Kate, croude on.

Ant.

O, O, the whole torrent
of all woman kind is broke in vpon mee, what shall I doe?

Mer.

Cuds, cuds, these are Mr. Livelyes men and mayds,
that are come to dance vpon the greene. Pray you Father let
mee daunce with them.

Stip.

You daunce with them? you are a great princockly puplady;
there's mustard for your biefe too, since you will needs haue
it; 'souds I haue beene a wit in my dayes, there's some reliques
left yet, goe to, goe to.

1. Mayd.

Oh Stipes! I pray you let
your daughter daunce with vs a little.

Stip.

Daunce with you? pray you vpsolue me this question,
what holy day is this? Latter Lammas? or St. Ginnyes Even?

Rust. 1.

Come on braue Sheepheard, our Master has given
vs leaue to trip it for an hower, or two, I'faith we haue had
a wedding at our house to day.

Stip.

A wedding? a wedding?
what wedding? vpsolue mee that question.

1. Rust.

Betweene a gentleman and a gentlewoman, but
what care wee what they bee.

2. Mayd.

Come on old Grummelseedes, what must we stand
thrumming of caps all day, vvaiting on your graue ignorance?
by the faith of my body, either let your daughter daunce vvith
vs, or I'le make your old bones rattle in your skin, I'le lead you
a Coranto i'faith.

Ant.

An Amazon, by heauens an Amazon,
a Penthiseleia.

Stip.

I, I by'r Lady? are you avis'd of that?

Mer.

Pray you forsooth, good-hony-sweete-plumpudding
father, vvee'l haue but one spirt I'faith lavv; Sellengers round in
sippits, or put on thy smocke on munday.

1 Rust.

But what flap-mouth'd fellow's that behind the tree
there?

Ant.

Now comes my Cue.

Stip.

Who he? another
gates fellow then you take him for, goe to, goe to, it is my
man I tell you.

2. Rust.

But can hee daunce?

Stip.

Oh in print, he trips it like a fayry. Ieoffrey. Hy, hy, how
now? what? tricks? how now?

2. Mayd.

How now
young man? what so modest? come on, take mee by th'hand.

Mer.

Take mee Ieoffry. I'le daunce with our Ieoffry, or else I
won't dance at all, no I won't, law you now.

Ant.

I can't dance.

Stip.

Hee's a lying knaue, I saw him my selfe; to him, to

to him, frolick it nimbly whilst I come back; because 'tis his first
day he shall haue leaue, my daughter too, for halfe an houre, no
more. Go to, go to.

Exit Stipes.

Scen. 10.

Anteros, Merda, two Rusticall Servants, 2. Ancillæ, Fidlers.
2 Rust.

But strike it out, we burne day-light.

Merd.

Ah the Lord! but where's our Ieoffrey?

1 Anc.

Cuds me! I doubt the great clowne's run away.

2 Anc.

Whoo! hee's got up into the tree there.

1 Rust.

Where? where? oh cuds wowkers & swowkers, I haue
him by the leg: Robin, helpe here Robin.

Ant.

What a murren
ayles you? can't you let one alone?

2 Rust.

Come, come, you
must needs daunce, we want one.

Ant.

Can't daunce.

2 Anc.

Can't you daunce, my little shamefac'd one?
Can you kisse a pretty wench in a corner?

Ant.

Let one alone, I can't I tell you, I won't daunce.

1 Rust.

I but you shall sirrah, in spite of your teeth.

Ant.

Pish, 'won't daunce.

1 Anc.

Come Merda, you must
entreat him, hee'l daunce with you I know.

Mer.

Prithee now
Ieoffrey doe, prithee now good Ieoffrey doe, wu'd I might ne're
stir law, if I don't make you a bisning posset, with a great lumpe
of hony in't, when my father and mother bee gone to bed, if you
will.

Ant.

Pish I can't daunce.

1 Rust.

Come let the great foole alone, wee'l dance our selues.

Mer.

Prithee now Ieoffrey.

Ant.

What shall I say? you'l laugh at one.

Mer.

Wu'd I was whipt if I doe.

1 Anc.

Besworne I won't.

2 Anc.

Nor I on my mayden-head.

Ant.

Come on then, since there is no remedy.

they daunce
2 Rust.

Hi, now every one kisse his marrow.

Ant.

I ne're was miserable 'till now

Merda wipes her mouth, and expects
Mer.

Ieoffrey, Ieoffrey.

2 Anc.

Why don't you kisse your marrow?

Ant.

I won't, I can't kisse.

1 Rust.

No can't? wee'l trie that: Robin, hold his tother
arme fast: so, so, now Merda, now, well sayd, againe, againe;
why so then.

They all laugh.
Ant.

They liue in Paradise that thrash.

1 Anc.

Tihy.

2 Anc.

Tihy, Robin, come hither.

Ante.

Those happy Paracelsians are in heauen,
That trade by night i'th mineralls of the citie.

2 Anc.

What doe you meane to fight Merda?

Merd.

Ay-me—I forgot the rod.

They laugh.
1 Anc.

Fie, why doe you blush so Merda?

Shee throws it away.
Merd.

I don't blush, you are a lyer.

1 Rust.

Fie upon you Merda, a great mayden, and blush.

Merd.

Aw, but you lye though, I did not blush, I won't
daunce no more with you.

2 Rust.

O by any meanes doe not forsake us yet, one daunce
more; who was it that said shee blush'd? shee did not blush, I
know she scornes to blush; come take your Ieoffrey by the hand
againe.

Ant.

I'm weary, I can't daunce no more.

1 Rust.

Weary? faith I'de squiffe it; weary? about with it
I say.

They daunce againe.

Sce. 11.

Stipes, with two dead lambes vpon his hooke, & cæteri.
Sti.

O lazy varlets! is this a time to daunce? you idle persons;
What will you leaue I say? looke heere I pray; doe's this same
spectacle agree with turning on the toe, or capring? go to, go
so, fie, fie, ah my sweet lambes, I dare bee sworne for you, yee
thinke no body hurt at this instant. Come hither you my nimble
skipper, upsolue me this question, what's your 'pinion must
be done with these?

1 Rust.

Pish lets away, strike vp, Stipes adiew.

1 Anc.

Farewell Merda.

2 Anc.

And you my ninny-pease-straw-wispe that cannot kisse.

2 Rust.

Stipes farewell, hey.

Exeunt.
Stip.

Stipes farewell? but Stipes cannot farewel, if his affaires
goe thus quite arsy varsy; you whorson crab-fac'd lyzard, you
left-leg'd rogue, what is there nothing else belongs unto this
geare, thinke you, but onely to stare on them with your two
sawcers of mustard? s'duds, either take them up quickly, and to
worke about them, or Ile—

Stipes strikes him.
Ant.
This is the second time; this once I'le suffer:
But by yon pallace of the Gods I sweare,
Let him but once more touch me with the top
Of his least finger, and I'le ramme his truncke
Into the center: I haue said it.

Stip.

Are you muttering? you'l in with them, and dispatch
them; goe you home too, my daughter Merda.

Merd.

Vm, vm, vm, you might haue let one daunce a little
longer, so you might, so you might; I am not yet hote in my
geares.

Exeunt Ant. Merda.
Stip.

Are you mumbling too? what my whole family turn'd
rebels? s'duds—I promise you, I promise you, 'tis not my best
course I see to beat my man thus often; a surly knaue by'r Lady,
a surly knaue, a strong knaue too, I doe not like his lookes, he has
a vineger countenance: but peace and catch a mouse, cry I.

Scena 12.

Laurentio, Stipes.
Laur.

But see, I will enquire; honest man, a word.

Stip.

Honest man in your face, whosoe're owes you; 'sduds,
haue I nothing to doe, but to prittle, prattle, with euery one I
meet, thinke you?

Exit.
Lau.
What an unheard of rudenesse haue we here?
Are these the manners of the countrey? well.
This is the place, as I am told, wherein
That Lucius liues, who not long since prevayl'd
With his faire flattering speeches, for to haue
My sonne Endymion to be his Page.
But oh yee awfull powers!
I had no father in mee should I suffer
Mine onely sonne to lead a servile life
With one that is mine enemy, nay more,
The ruine and subversion of my family.
O daughter Isabella!
Whilst thy false Lover melts within the armes
Of his new purchac'd Mistris, thou (poore girle)
Embracest scorne and povertie, or else
(Which I doe rather wish were true) cold death.
But I doe heare,
Since my arrivall, of some Country people,
That they haue seene, some fortnight since or more,
A pretty boy, lingring about this village
Much about her stature, and complexion,
Which did enquire for a Gentleman
That was without a Page; this may be shee,
Who for the loue of Lucius, has put on
Some strange disguise. Whom cannot loue transforme?

Scena 13.

Placenta, Laurentio, Pandora, Endymion.
Plac.
Ha, ha, he.
Whilst the poore flye does sport her selfe too long
About the amorous flame, she burnes her wings.
Her counterfeiting of a Loue, is now
Turn'd into earnest. Endymion's now the man
She sweares she loues; as for the other two
She has forgot their very names already.

Lau.
Does not this woman name my sonne?
Let me see, is not this Endymion? it is hee,
Enter Pand. Endymion.
And with him a fayre gentlewoman. Ha?

Pand.
But tell me dearest, did thy Master Lucius.
Once loue thy sister Isabella so,
Whom now he has forsaken?

Endy.
Yes.

Pan.
Behold
That treachery repayd him.

Lau.
See, they kisse.

Pla.
But what old Gentleman is this?

La.
I'le shew my selfe.
All health to this faire loving couple.

End.
O,—

Lau.
Why do'st thou flie me?

End.
'Tis my father,—father
God saue you.

Lau.
Dearest sonne, my best of blessings.

End.
How haue you done sir, since I saw you last?

Laur.
As well as one can doe that has departed
With's onely daughter.

End.
Why, is my sister dead?

Laur.
I know not that, But I am sure her credit,
The candor of her name is perished.

End.
Good sir, as how? Instruct me.

Lau.
Ah Endymions.
Since that most treacherous Lucius left the Citie
I haue not seene her, onely I heare of her,
But little to my comfort.—But no more,
I haue forgot her, and her folly both.
Prepare thy selfe (my sonne) immediatly,
To leaue this place and service; for thy fortunes
(How e're they were before, slender and poore)
Must not now see thee hold a trencher for
A better man then Lucius. Thy old vncle
As he liv'd well, in a seasonable age.
Is gone into the graue, and by his will
Hath given to thee eight thousand pound, and three
Vnto thy sister, (though unworthy) what
Else he was worth in lands and goods, is mine.

Pla.
Pandora, kisse mee girle, kisse mee I say,
I haue deserued it, 'twas my invention,
My plot this (girle) th'art happy wench, th'art happy.

Pan.
Is this your father sweet?

End.
It is faire Mistris.
Sir, I congratulate our fortunes with you;
But if you doe desire to haue my joyes
Full and o'reflow their banks, grant me your leaue
To marry this faire Gentlewoman.

Laur.
Alas,
This is not in my power Endymion:
But if thou canst procure her friends consent—

Pan.
Sir feare not that, I will entreat my father.

Laur.
As for a portion, 'tis not thought upon
My son, if you be pleas'd.

End.
Sir, I am pleas'd,
Shee is to me most deare.

Pan.
Placenta, runne,
See if my father be within,—I know
Ex. Pla.
(Most worthy sir) that I shall win him to it.

Laur.
But canst thou tell no newes of Isabella,
Sweet son?

End.
No, none at all sir.

Lau.
Ah poore heart!
But 'tis no matter, I'le forget her quite.
Redit in scenam Plac.
Where is thy Mr Lucius?

End.
I know not.

Pla.
Your father's walk'd abroad with Mi s. Vrsely
Your sister, but whither, there's none can tell me.
As yet the plot concerning Constantina
to herselfe.
Is not descri'd.

Pan.
Most reverend sir, wilt please you
To walke into the pastures, peradventure
There we shall meet my father.

Lau.
But I had rather
That I could compasse that same villaine Lucius,
That he might heare what he deserues.

Liuely runns in, Nean. following with his sword drawne.
Nean.
Villaine.

Live.
I am undone.

Pla.
Ah me! Neander with his naked sword!
I'le runne in heere.

Pan.
Ah!

End.
Let's away good father.

Exeunt.

Scen. 14.

Neander, Liuely.
Nean.
O that thou hadst
As many liues as haires, that I might be
An age in killing thee, that I might score up
Each passing minute with a life:—But speake,
How durst thou thus abuse me?

Liu.
I did not know
Shee was a woman.

Nean.
No, didst thou not know it?
But thou shalt know thy selfe to be a man,
One that can dye.

Liu.
—O—O—

Nean.
How poore is this reuenge? hast thou any children,
Or kinsfolkes (speak) that I may kill them too?
Ha? wilt thou not answer? how durst thou offer this?

Liu.
Because I loued your friend Lucius
Better then you.

Nean.
Better then I? that word
Does merit death though thou hadst beene preseru'd
White from thy cradle to this houre.—
Doest thou loue Lucius? ha?

Liu.
Yes.

Nean.
Liue; no, no thou must not;
Thou might'st haue kil'd my father, broke the vrne
Wherein my mothers ashes sleepe, farre cheaper.
But for his sake, thus much I'le grant thee, chuse
The manner of thy death—shall I take off thy head?
Or hadst thou rather dye vpon the poynt?
Thinke quickly, nay be instant.

Liu.
Worthy Sir:
Let mee entreate some little space to pause
I haue not yet determin'd.

Nean.
Well thou hast it. But see that it bee speedy.

Scen. 15.

Laurentio, Lucius, Neander, Liuely.
Lau.
Most perfidious. Contemner of all goodnesse.—

Luc.
Excellent.
Nay forward, on, wee know you haue a tongue.

Nean.
Ha? is this Lucius?

Lau.
Where is my Isabella,
Whom thou hast loaden with disgrace? restore mee
Her honour (villaine) her good name.

Nean.
I must
Deferre my iust reuenge I see a little.
He must not know that I am angry, nor
How I am gulld.

Laur.
Thou base unworthy man.

Luc.
Would you could raise your voyce a little sir,
You are not heard.

Laur.
Thou staine of all mankind.

Nean.
Thou owest thy life unto my Lucius.
I am not now at leasure for to kill thee.

Liu.
Nor I for to be kild for a trick I know.
Ex. Liuely.

Luc.
Are you drawne drie so quickly, Mr Lickthumbe?
Haue you no more good names in pickle for me?
Nay come ifaith, let's haue an other bout.

Nea.
But is he gone? he must not so escape me.
Ex. Nean.

Lau.
Where is my daughter? where is my daughter, rascall?
Ah Isabella.

Luc.
So: but Sir resolue mee,
Haue yee no Empericks? no Physitians
I'th Citty, that you thus doe send your mad men
Into the country to be cur'd? but Sir
I'le leaue you.

Laur.
But I will not so leaue you.

Luc.
You will not?

Lau.
No, I'le be a torment to thee.

Luc.
You will? but yet take heed that your ill language
Procures not me to turne Physician.
This sword of mine opens a veine but harshly,
Doe you heare.

The Song.