 | The Gentleman Usher |  |
ACTVS PRIMVS
SCÆNA PRIMA.
Enter Strozza, Cynanche, and Pogio.Strozza.
Haste nephew, what, a sluggard? Fie for shame,
Shal he that was our morning Cock, turn Owle,
And locke out day light from his drowsie eies?
Pog.
Pray pardon mee for once, lord vnkle,
for Ile bee sworne, I had such a dreame this
morning: me thought one came with a commission to take
a Sorrell curtoll, that was stolne from him, wheresoeuer hee
could find him. And because I feared he would lay claime to
my sorrell curtoll in my stable I ran to the Smith to haue him
set on his mane againe, and his taile presently, that the Commission-man
might not thinke him a curtoll. And when the
Smith would not doe it, I fell a beating of him, so that I could
not wake for my life til I was reuenged on him.
Cyn.
This is your old valure nephew, that will fight sleeping
as well as waking.
Pog.
Slud Aunt, what if my dreame had beene true (as it
might haue beene for any thing I knew) there's neuer a smith
in Italie, shall make an Asse of me in my sleepe, if I can chuse.
Stroz.
Well said, my furious nephew: but I see
You quite forget that we must rowse to day
The sharp-tuskt Bore: and blaze our huntsmanship
before the duke.
Pog.
Forget Lord vncle? I hope not; you thinke belike
Mare: one cannot crie wehre, but straight shee
cries tihi.
Stro.
Well ghest coosen Hysteron Proteron.
Pog.
But which way will the dukes grace hunt to day?
Stro.
Toward Count Lassos house his Grace will hunt,
Where he will visit his late honourd mistresse.
Pog.
Who Ladie Margaret, that dear yong dame?
Will his antiquitie, neuer leaue his iniquitie?
Cyn.
Why how now nephew? turnd Parnassus lately?
Pog.
Nassus? I know not: but I would I had all the dukes
liuing for her sake, Ide make him a poore duke ifaith.
Stro.
No doubt of that, if thou hadst all his liuing.
Pog.
I would not stand dreaming of the matter as I do now.
Cyn.
Why how doe you dreame nephew?
Pog.
Mary all last night me thought I was tying her shoostring.
Stro.
What all night tying her shoostring?
Pog.
I that I was, and yet I tied it not neither; for as I was
tying it, the string broke me thought and then me thought,
hauing but one poynt at my hose, me thought, I gaue her that
to tie her shoo withall.
Cyn.
A poynt of much kindnesse I assure you.
Pog.
Whervpon, in the verie nicke me thought the Count
came rushing in, and I ranne rushing out, with my heeles
about my hose for haste.
Stro.
So; will you leaue your dreaming and dispatch?
Pog.
Mind, not a worde more, Ile goe before and ouertake
you presently.
Exit.
Cyn.
My Lord I fancie not these hunting sports,
When the bold game you follow turnes againe,
And stares you in the facel: et me behold
A cast of Faulcons on their merry wings,
Daring the stooped prey, that shifting flies:
Or let me view the fearefull Hare or Hinde,
Tosst like a musicke point with harmonie
Of well mouthed hounds. This is a sport for Princes,
The other rude Boares yeeld fit game for Boores.
Stro.
Thy timorous spirit blinds thy iudgement, wife,
Those are most royall sports that most approue
Cyn.
My Lord, I know too well your vertuous spirit,
Take heede for Gods loue if you rowse the Bore,
You come not neere him, but discharge aloofe
Your wounding Pistoll, or well aymed Dart.
Stro.
I Mary wife this counsaile rightly flowes
Out of thy bosome, pray thee take lesse care,
Let Ladies at their tables iudge of Bores,
Lords in the field: And so farewell sweete loue;
Faile not to meete me at Earle Lassos house.
Cyn.
Pray pardon me for that: you know I loue not
These solemne meetings.
Stro.
You must needes, for once
Constraine your disposition; and indeede
I would acquaint you more with Ladie Margaret,
For speciall reason.
Cyn.
Very good, my Lord.
Then I must needes go fit me for that presence.
Stro.
I pray thee doe, farewell.
Exit Cyn.
Here comes my friend.
Enter Uincentio.
Good day my Lord; why does your grace confront
So cleare a morning with so clowdie lookes?
Vin.
Ask'st thou my griefes, that knowst my desprate loue
Curbd by my fathers sterne riualitie:
Must not I mourne that know not whether yet
I shall enioy a stepdame or a wife?
Stro.
A wife prince, neuer doubt it; your deserts
And youthfull graces haue engag'd so farre,
The beauteous Margaret, that she is your owne.
Vin.
O but the eie of watchfull iealousie
Robs my desires of meanes t'inioy her fauour.
Stro.
Despaire not: there are meanes enow for you,
Suborne some seruant of some good respect,
Thats neere your choice, who though she needs no wooing,
May yet imagine you are to begin,
Your strange yong loue sute, and so speake for you,
Beare your kind letters, and get safe accesse.
All which when he shall do; you neede not feare
His trustie secrecie, because he dares not
Whom you may best attempt, she must reueale;
For if she loues you, she already knowes,
And in an instant can resolue you that.
Vin.
And so she will, I doubt not: would to heauen
I had fit time, euen now to know her minde:
This counsaile feedes my heart with much sweet hope.
Stro.
Pursue it then; t'will not be hard t'effect:
The Duke haz none for him, but Medice
That fustian Lord, who in his buckram face,
Bewraies, in my conceit, a map of basenesse.
Vin.
I, theres a parcell of vnconstrued stuffe,
That vnknowne Minion raisde to honours height,
Without the helpe of Vertue, or of Art,
Or (to say true) nay of honest part:
O how she shames my father! he goes like
A Princes foote-man, in old fashioned silkes,
And most times, in his hose and dublet onely,
So miserable, that his owne few men
Doe beg by vertue of his liuerie;
For he giues none for any seruice done him,
Or any honour, any least reward.
Stro.
Tis pittie such should liue about a Prince:
I would haue such a noble counterfet, nailde
Vpon the Pillory, and after, whipt
For his adultery with nobilitie,
Vin.
Faith I would faine disgrace him by all meanes,
As enemy to his base-bred ignorance,
That being a great Lord, cannot write nor reade.
Stro.
For that, wee'le follow the blinde side of him,
And make it sometimes subiect of our mirth.
Enter Pogioposte.
Vin.
See, what newes with your Nephew Pogio?
Stro.
None good I warrant you.
Pog.
Where should I finde my Lord Vnckle?
Stro.
Whats the huge haste with you?
Pog.
O ho, you will hunt to day.
Stro.
I hope I will.
But you may hap to hop without your hope: for the
truth is, Kilbucke is runne mad.
Stro.
Whats this?
Pog.
Nay, t'is true sir: and Kilbucke being runne mad, bit
Ringwood so by the left buttocke, you might haue turnd your
nose in it.
Vin.
Out Asse.
Pog.
By heauen you might my Lord: d'ee thinke I lie?
Vin.
Zwoundes, might I? lets blanket him my Lord: a
blanket heere.
Pog.
Nay, good my Lord Vincentio, by this rush I tell you
for good will: and Venus your brache there, runnes so prowd,
that your Hunts-man cannot take her downe for his life.
Stro.
Take her vp foole, thou would'st say.
Pog.
Why sir, he would soone take her down and he could
take her vp I warrant her.
Uin.
Well said, hammer, hammer.
Po.
Nay, good now lets alone, and theres your horse, Gray
Strozza too haz the staggers, and haz strooke bay Bettrice,
your Barbary mare so, that shee goes halting a this fashion,
most filthily.
Stro.
What poison blisters thy vnhappy tongue
Euermore braying forth vnhappy newes,
Our hunting sport is at the best my Lord:
How shall I satisfie the Duke your father,
Defrauding him of his expected sport?
See, see, he comes.
Enter Alphonso, Medice, Sarpego, with attendants.
Alph.
Is this the copie of the speech you wrote,
Signieur Sarpego?
Sar.
It is a blaze of wit poeticall,
Reade it, braue Duke, with eyes pathetical.
Alp.
We will peruse it strait: well met Vincentio,
And good Lord Strozza, we commend you both
For your attendance: but you must conceiue,
Tis no true hunting we intend to day,
But an inducement to a certaine shew,
Wherewith we will present our beateous loue,
And therein we bespeake your company.
We both are ready to attend your Highnesse.
Alp.
See then, heere is a Poeme that requires
Your worthy censures; offerd if it like
To furnish our intended amorous shew:
Reade it Uincentio.
Vin.
Pardon me my Lord,
Lord Medices reading, will expresse it better.
Med.
My patience can digest your scoffes my Lord.
I care not to proclaime it to the world:
I can nor write, nor reade; and what of that?
I can both see and heare, as well as you.
Alp.
Still are your wits at warre: heere, read this poeme.
Vin.
The red fac'd Sunne hath firkt the flundering shades,
And cast bright ammell on Auroraes brow.
Alp.
High words and strange:
Reade on Vincentio.
Vin.
The busky groues that gag-tooth'd boares do shrowd
With cringle crangle hornes do ring alowd.
Pog.
My Lord, my Lord, I haue a speech heere worth ten
of this, and yet Ile mend it too.
Alp.
How likes Vincentio?
Vin.
It is strangely good,
No inkehorne euer did bring forth the like,
Could these braue prancing words with Actions spurre,
Be ridden throughly, and managed right,
T'would fright the audience, and perhaps delight.
Sarp.
Doubt you of action sir?
Vin.
I, for such stuffe.
Sarp.
Then know my Lord, I can both act and teach
To any words; when I in Padua schoolde it,
I plaid in one of Plautus Comedies,
Namely, Curculio, where his part I acted,
Proiecting from the poore summe of foure lines,
Forty faire actions.
Alp.
Lets see that I pray.
Sarp.
Your Highnesse shall commaund,
But pardon me, if in my actions heate
Entering in post post haste I chaunce to take vp
Po.
Y'ad best leaue out that action for a thing that I know sir.
Sarp.
Then shal you see what I can do without it.
Alp.
See see, he hath his furniture and all.
Sarp.
You must imagine, Lords, I bring good newes,
Whereof being princely prowd I scowre the streete
And ouer-tumble euery man I meete.
Exit Sarp.
Pog.
Beshrew my heart if he take vp my heeles.
Enter Sarp.
Sarp.
Date viam mihi Noti, atque Ignoti.
Dum ego, hîc, officium meum facio.
Fugite omnes atque abite, & de via secedite, ne quem
in cursu; aut capite, aut cubito, aut pectore offendam, aut genu.
Alp.
Thankes good Seigneur Sarpego.
How like you Lords, this stirring action?
Stro.
In a cold morning it were good my Lord,
But something harshe vpon repletion.
Sarp.
Sir I haue ventred, being enioynde to eate
Three schollers commons, and yet drewe it neate.
Pogio.
Come sir, you meddle in too many matters; let vs I
pray tend on our owne shew at my lord Lassos.
Sarp.
Doing obeisance then to euery lord
I now consorte you sir euen toto corde.
Exit. Sarp. & Pog.
Med.
My lord, away with these scholastique wits,
Lay the inuention of your speech on me,
And the performance too; ile play my parte,
that you shall say, Nature yeelds more then Art.
Alp.
Bee't so resolu'd; vnartificiall truth
An vnfaind passion can descipher best.
Vin.
But t'wil be hard my lord, for one vnlearnd.
Med.
Vnlearnd? I cry you mercie sir; vnlearnd?
Vin.
I meane, vntaught my lord, to make a speech,
As a pretended Actor, without close,
More gratious then your doublet and your hose.
Alph.
What, think you sonne we meane t'expresse a speech
Of speciall weight without a like attire?
Vin.
Excuse me then my lord; so stands it well.
Stro.
Haz brought them rarely in, to pageant him.
Med.
What; thinke you lord; we thinke not of attire?
Stro.
Alas my lord, your wit must pardon his.
Vin.
I hope it will, his wit is pittyfull.
Stro.
I pray stand by my Lord; y'are troublesome.
Vin.
To none but you; am I to you my Lord?
Med.
Not vnto mee.
Vin.
Why then you wrong me Strozza.
Med.
Nay, fall not out my Lords.
Stro.
May I not know
What your speech is my Liege?
Alp.
None but my selfe, and the Lord Medice.
Med.
No, pray my Lord
Let none partake with vs.
Alp.
No be assur'd,
But for another cause; a word Lord Strozza,
I tell you true, I feare Lord Medice
Will scarce discharge the speach effectually:
As we goe therefore, ile explaine to you
My whole intent; that you may second him
If neede and his debilitie require.
Stro.
Thanks for this grace my Liege.
Vincentio ouerheares.
Med.
My Lord; your sonne.
Alp.
Why how now sonne? forbeare; yet tis no matter
Wee talke of other businesse Medice
And come, we will prepare vs to our shew.
Stro., Vin.
Which as we can, weele cast to ouerthrow.
Exeunt.
Enter Lasso, Corteza, Margaret, Bassiolo, Sarpego, two Pages, Bassiolo bare before.
Bas.
Stand by there, make place.
Lass.
Saie now Bassiolo; you on whom relies
The generall disposition of my house,
In this our preparation, for the Duke
Are all our officers at large instructed,
For fit discharge of their peculiar places?
Bass.
At large my lord instructed.
Lass.
Are all our chambers hung? Thinke you our house
amplie capacious to lodge all the traine?
Amply capacious: I am passing glad.
And now then to our mirth and musicall shew,
Which after supper we intend t'indure,
Welcomes cheefe dainties: for choice cates at home,
Euer attend on Princes; mirth abroad,
Are all parts perfect.
Sarp.
One I know there is.
Lass.
And that is yours.
Sarp.
Well guest in earnest Lord,
I neede not er ubescere, to take
So much vpon me: That my backe will beare.
Bass.
Nay, he will be perfection it selfe,
For wording well, and dexterous action too.
Lass.
And will these waggish pages, hit their songs?
2 Pag.
Re mi fa sol la?
Lass.
O they are practising; good boyes, well done;
But where is Pogio? there y'are ouershot.
To lay a capitall part vpon his braine,
Whose absence tells me plainely hee'le neglect him.
Bass.
O no my Lord, he dreames of nothing else,
And giues it out in wagers, hee'le excell;
And see, (I told your Lo:) he is come.
Enter Pogio.
Pog.
How now my Lord, haue you borrowed a Snite for
me: Seigneur Bassiolo, can all say, are all things ready? the Duke
is hard by, and little thinks that Ile be an Actor ifaith, I keepe
all close my Lord.
Lass.
O, tis well done, call all the Ladies in,
Sister and daughter, come, for Gods sake come,
Prepare your courtliest carriage for the Duke.
Enter Corte, Margarite, and maids.
Corte
And Neece, in any case remember this,
Praise the old man, and when you see him first,
Looke me on none but him, smiling and louingly:
And then, when he comes neere, make beisance low,
With both your hands thus mouing, which not onely
Is as t'were courtly, and most comely too,
But speakes (as who should say) come hither Duke;
And yet saies nothing, but you may denie.
Lass.
Well taught sister.
I, and to much end:
I am exceeding fond to humour him.
Lass.
Harke, does he come with musicke? what, and bound?
An amorous deuice: daughter, obserue.
Enter Enchanter, with spirits singing; after them, Medice, like Syluanus, next the Duke bound, Vincentio, Strozza, with others.
Vin.
Now lets gull Medice, I doe not doubt,
But this attire put on, will put him out.
Stro.
Weele doe our best to that end, therefore marke.
Ench.
Lady, or Princesse, both your choice commands.
These spirits and I, all seruants of your beautie,
Present this royall captiue to your mercie.
Mar.
Captiue to mee a subiect.
Vin.
I, faire Nimph;
And how the worthy mystery befell
Syluanus heere, this woodden god can tell.
Alp.
Now my Lord.
Vin.
Now is the time man, speake.
Med.
Peace.
Alp.
Peace Vincentio.
Vin.
Swonds my Lord,
Shall I stand by and suffer him to shame you?
My Lord Medice?
Stro.
Will you not speake my Lord?
Med.
How can I?
Vin.
But you must speake in earnest:
Would not your Highnesse haue him speake my Lord?
Med.
Yes, and I will speake, and perhaps speake so,
As you shall neuer mend: I can I know.
Vin.
Doe then my good Lord.
Alp.
Medice, forth.
Med.
Goddesse, faire goddesse, for no lesse, no lesse.
Alp.
No lesse, no lesse? no more, no more: speake you.
Med.
Swounds they haue put me out.
Vin.
Laugh your faire goddesse.
This nobleman disdaines to be your foole.
Alp.
Vincentio, peace.
Vin.
Swounds my Lord, it is as good a shew:
Pray speake Lord Strozza.
Honourable dame.
Vin.
Take heede you be not out I pray my Lord.
Stro.
I pray forbeare my Lord Vincentio:
How this destressed Prince came thus inthralde,
I must relate with words of height and wonder:
His Grace this morning visiting the woods,
And straying farre, to finde game for the Chase,
At last, out of a mirtle groue he rowsde
A vast and dreadfull Boare, so sterne and fierce,
As if the Feend fell Crueltie her selfe
Had come to fright the woods in that strange shape.
Alp.
Excellent good.
Vin.
Too good a plague on him.
Stro.
The princely Sauage being thus on foote,
Tearing the earth vp with his thundering hoofe,
And with the'nragde Ætna of his breath.
Firing the ayre, and scorching all the woods,
Horror held all vs Huntsmen from pursuit,
Onely the Duke incenst with our cold feare,
Incouragde like a second Hercules.
Vin.
Zwounds, too good man.
Stro.
Pray thee let me alone:
And like the English signe of great Saint George.
Vin.
Plague of that Simile.
Stro.
Gaue valorous example, and like fire,
Hunted the monster close, and chargde so fierce,
That he inforc'd him (as our sence conceiu'd)
To leape for soile into a cristall spring,
Where on the suddaine strangely vanishing,
Nimph-like for him, out of the waues arose
Your sacred figure like Diana armde,
And (as in purpose of the beasts reuenge)
Dischargde an arrow through his Highnesse breast,
Whence yet no wound or any blood appearde:
With which, the angry shadow left the light:
And this Enchanter with his power of spirits,
Brake from a caue, scattering enchanted sounds,
That strooke vs sencelesse, while in these strange bands,
These cruell spirits thus inchainde his armes,
Th'intent whereof on their report relies.
En.
Bright Nimph, that Boare figur'd your crueltie,
Chared by loue, defended by your beautie.
This amorous Huntsman heere, we thus inthral'd,
As the attendants on your Graces charmes,
And brought him hither by your bounteous hands.
To be releast, or liue in endlesse bands.
Lass.
Daughter, release the Duke: alas my Liege.
What meant your Highnesse to indure this wrong?
Co.
Enlarge him Neece, come dame, it must be so.
Mar.
What Madam, shall I arrogate so much?
Lass.
His Highnesse pleasure is to grace you so.
Alp.
Performe it then sweete loue, it is a deede
Worthy the office of your honor'd hand.
Mar.
Too worthie I confesse my Lord for me,
If it were serious: but it is in sport,
And women are fit Actors for such pageants.
Alp.
Thanks gracious loue; why made you strange of this?
I rest no lesse your captiue then before,
For me vntying, you haue tied me more.
Thanks Strozza for your speech, no thanks to you.
Med.
No, thanke your sonne my Lord.
Lass.
T'was very well,
Exceeding well performed on euery part,
How say you Bassialo?
Bass.
Rare I protest my Lord.
Cor.
O, my Lord Medice became it rarely,
Me thought I likde his manlie being out;
It becomes Noblemen to doe nothing well.
Lass.
Now then wil't please your Grace to grace our house,
And still vouchsafe our seruice further honour.
Al.
Leade vs my Lord, we will your daughter leade.
Exit.
Vin.
You do not leade, but drag her leaden steps.
Stro.
How did you like my speech?
Vin.
O fie vpon't, your Rhetoricke was too fine.
Stro.
Nothing at all:
I hope saint Georges signe was grosse enough:
Watch you your father, Ile watch Medice,
That in your loue-suit, we may shun suspect:
To which end, with your next occasion, vrge
Your loue to name the person she will choose,
By whose meanes you may safely write or meete.
Vin.
Thats our cheefe businesse: and see, heere she comes.
Enter Margaret in haste.
Mar.
My Lord, I onely come to say, y'are welcome,
And so must say, farewell.
Uin.
One word I pray.
Mar.
Whats that?
Vin.
You needes must presently deuise,
What person trusted chiefely with your guard,
You thinke is aptest for me to corrupt,
In making him a meane for our safe meeting?
Mar.
My fathers Vsher, none so fit,
If you can worke him well: and so farewell,
With thanks my good Lord Strozza for your speech.
Exit.
Stro.
I thanke you for your patience, mocking Lady.
Vin.
O what a fellow haz she pickt vs out?
One that I would haue choosde past all the rest,
For his close stockings onely.
Stro.
And why not?
For the most constant fashion of his hat?
Vin.
Nay then, if nothing must be left vnspoke,
For his strict forme, thus still to weare his cloke.
Stro.
Well sir, he is your owne, I make no doubt:
For to these outward figures of his minde,
He hath two inward swallowing properties
Of any gudgeons; seruile Auarice,
And ouerweening thought of his owne worth,
Ready to snatch at euery shade of glory:
And therefore, till you can directlie boord him,
Waft him aloofe with hats, and other fauours,
Still as you meete him.
Vin.
Well, let me alone,
He that is one mans slaue, is free from none.
Exeunt.
Finis Actus Primi.
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