 | A Pleasant Comedy, Called :The Case is Altered |  |
Actus primi
Scæna prima.
Sound? after a flourish: Iuniper a Cobler is discouered, sitting at worke in his shoppe and singing.Iuniper, Onion, Antony Baladino.
Yov wofull wights giue eare a while,
And marke the tenor of my stile,
Enter Onion in hast.
Which shall such trembling hearts vnfold
As seldome hath to fore bene told.
Such chances rare and dolefull newes
Oni.
fellow Iuniper
Peace a Gods name.
As may attempt your wits to muse.
Oni.
Gods so, heere man.
A pox a God on you.
And cause such trickling teares to passe,
Except your hearts be flint or brasse:
Oni.
Iuniper, Iuniper.
To heare the newes which I shall tell,
That in Castella once befell.
Sbloud, where didst thou learne to corrupt a man in the midst
of a verse, ha?
Onion.
Gods lid man, seruice is ready to go vp man, you
must slip on your coate and come in, we lacke waiters pittyfully.
Iunip.
A pittifull hearing, for now must I of a merry Cobler
become mourning creature.
Exit Onion.
Onion.
Well youle come.
Iunip.
Presto. Go to, a word to the wise, away, flie? vanish:
Lye there the weedes that I disdaine to weare.
God saue you Maister Iuniper.
Iuni.
What Signior Antonio Balladino, welcome sweet Ingle:
Anto.
And how do you sir?
Iuni.
Faith you see, put to my shifts here as poore retainers
be oftentimes, sirrah Antony ther's one of my fellowes mightely
enamored of thee, and I faith you slaue, now your come I'le
bring you together, i'ts Peter Onion, the groome of the hal, do
you know him.
Anto.
No not yet, I assure you.
Iuni.
O he is one as right of thy humour as may be, a plaine
simple Rascal, a true dunce, marry he hath bene a notable vilaine
in his time: he is in loue, sirrah, with a wench, & I haue preferd
thee to him, thou shalt make him some prety Paradox or some
Aligory, how does my coate sit? well.
Anto.
I very well.
Enter Onion.
Oni.
Na Gods so, fellow Iuniper, come away.
Iun.
Art thou there mad slaue, I come with a powder?
Sirrah fellow Onion. I must haue you peruse this Gentleman
well, and doe him good offices of respect and kindnesse, as instance
shall be giuen.
Anto.
Nay good maister Onion what do you meane, I pray
you sir you are to respectuc in good faith.
Onion.
I would not you should thinke so sir, for though I
haue no learning, yet I honour a scholer in any ground of the
earth sir,
Anto.
My name is Antonio Balladino.
Oni.
Balladino? you are not Pageant Poet to the City of Millaine
sir, are you.
Anto.
I supply the place sir: when aworse cannot be had sir.
Oni.
I crie you mercy sir, I loue you the better for that sir, by
Iesu you must pardon me, I knew you not, but Il'd pray to be
better acquainted with you sir, I haue seene of your works.
Anto.
I am at your seruice good Maister Onion, but concerning
this maiden that you loue sir? what is she,
Onion.
O did my fellow Iuniper tell you? marry sir, she is
owne part I am no Gentleman borne I must confesse, but my
mind to me a kingdome is truly.
Anto.
Truly a very good saying.
Onion.
T'is somewhat stale, but that's no matter.
Anto.
O t'is the better, such things euer are like bread, which
the staler it is, the more holesome.
Onion.
This is but a hungry comparison in my iudgement.
Anto.
Why, I'le tell you, M. Onion, I do vse as much stale
stuffe, though I say it my selfe, as any man does in that kind I
am sure. Did you see the last Pageant, I set forth?
Onion.
No faith sir, but there goes a huge report on't.
Anto.
Why, you shal be one of my Mæcen-asses, I'le giue you
one of the bookes, O you'le like it admirably.
Oni.
Nay that's certaine, I'le get my fellow Iuniper to read it.
Anto.
Reade it sir, I'le reade it to you.
Onion.
Tut then I shall not chuse but like it.
Anto.
Why looke you sir, I write so plaine, and keepe that
old Decorum, that you must of necessitie like it; mary you shall
haue some now (as for example, in plaies) that will haue euery
day new trickes, and write you nothing but humours: indeede
this pleases the Gentlemen: but the common sort they
care not for't, they know not what to make on't, they looke
for good matter, they, and are not edified with such toyes.
Onion.
You are in the right, I'le not giue a halfepeny to see
a thousand on'hem. I was at one the last Tearme, but & euer
I see a more roguish thing, I am a peece of cheese, & no onion,
nothing but kings & princes in it, the foole came not out a iot.
Anto.
True sir, they would haue me make such plaies, but as
I tell them, and they'le giue me twenty pound a play, I'le not
raise my vaine.
Onion.
No, it were a vaine thing, and you should sir.
Anto.
Tut giue me the penny, giue me the peny, I care not
for the Gentlemen I, lerme haue a good ground, no matter for
the pen, the plot shall carry it.
Onion.
Indeed that's right, you are in print already for the
Anto.
I, I might as well ha bene put in for a dumb shew too.
Oni.
I marry sir, I marle you were not, stand aside sir a while:
Enter an armd Sewer: some halfe dozen in mourning coates following and passe by with seruice.
Enter Valentine.
Onion.
How now friend, what are you there? be vncouered,
Would you speake with any man here?
Valen.
I, or else I must ha' returnd you no answer.
Oni.
Friend, you are somewhat to peremptory, let's craue
your absence: nay neuer scorne it, I am a little your better in
this place.
Valen.
I do acknowledge it.
Onion.
Do you acknowledge it? nay then you shall go
forth, Ile teach you how shall acknowledge it another time;
go to, void, I must haue the hall purg'd, no setting vp of a
rest here, packe, begone.
Valen.
I pray you sir is not your name Onion?
Oni.
Your friend as you may vse him, and M. Onion, say on.
Valen.
M. Onion with a murraine, come come put off this
Lyons hide, your eares haue discouered you, why Peter! do
not I know you Peter?
Onion.
Gods so, Valentine!
Valen.
O can you take knowledge of me now sir?
Oni.
Good Lord, sirra, how thou art altred with thy trauell?
Valen.
Nothing so much as thou art with thine office, but
sirra, Onion is the Count Ferneze at home?
Exit Anthony.
Oni.
I Bully, he is aboue; and the Lord Paulo Ferneze, his
son, and Maddam Aurelia, & maddam Phænixella, his daughters,
But O Valentine?
Valen.
How now man, how dost thou?
Oni.
Faith sad, heauy, as a man of my coate ought to be.
Valen.
Why man, thou wert merry inough euen now.
Oni.
True, but thou knowest
All creatures here soiorning, vpon this wretched earth,
Sometimes have a fit of mourning, as well as a fit of mirth,
O Valentine, mine old Lady is dead, man.
Valen.
Dead!
I faith.
Valen.
When dyed she?
Onion.
Mary, to morrow shall be three months, she was
seene going to heauen they say, about some fiue weekes agone!
how now? trickling teares, ha?
Valen.
Faith thou hast made me weepe with this newes.
Onion.
Why I haue done but the parte of an Onion, you
must pardon me.
Scæne. 2.
Enter the sewer, passe by with seruice againe, the seruingmen take knowledge of Valentine as they goe. Iuniper salutes him.Iuni.
What Valentine? fellow Onion, take my dish I prithee
you rogue sirrah, tell me, how thou dost, sweet Ingle.
Valen.
Faith, Iuniper, the better to see thee thus frolicke.
Iuni.
Nay, slid I am no changling, I am Iuniper still.
Exit Oni.
I keepe the pristmate ha, you mad Hierogliphick, when shal we
swagger.
Valen.
Hierogliphick, what meanest thou by that.
Iuni.
Meane? Gods so, ist not a good word man? what?
stand vpon meaning with your friends. Puh, Absconde.
Valen.
Why, but stay, stay, how long has this sprightly
humor haunted thee?
Iuni.
Foe humour, a foolish naturall gift we haue in the Æquinoctiall.
Valen.
Naturall, slid it may be supernaturall, this?
Iuni.
Valentine, I prithee ruminate thy selfe welcome. What
fortuna de la Guerra.
Valen.
O how pittifully are these words forc't.
As though they were pumpt out on's belly.
Iuni.
Sirrah Ingle, I thinke thou hast seene all the strange
countries in Christendome since thou wentst?
Valen.
I haue seene some Iuniper.
Iuni.
You haue seene Constantinople?
Valen.
I, that I haue.
And Ierusalem, and the Indies, and Goodwine sands, and
the tower of Babylon, and Venice and all.
Valen.
I all; no marle and he haue a nimble tong, if he practise
to vault thus from one side of the world to another.
Iuni.
O it's a most heauenly thing to trauel, & see countries,
especially at sea, and a man had a pattent not to be sicke.
Valen.
O sea sicke Iest, and full of the scuruie.
Scæne 3.
Enter Iuniper, Antonio, Sebastian, Martino, Vincentio, Balthasar and Christophere.Seba.
Valentine? welcome I faith how dost sirra?
Mart.
How do you good Valentine.
Vincen.
Troth, Valentine, I am glad to see you.
Balth.
Welcome sweet rogue.
Sebast.
Before God he neuer lookt better in his life.
Balth.
And how ist man? what, Alla Coragio.
Valen.
Neuer better gentlemen I faith.
Iuni.
S'will here comes the steward.
Christ.
Why how now fellowes all here? and nobody to
waight aboue now they are ready to rise? looke vp one or two
Signior Francesco Colomia's man how doo's your good maister.
Exeunt Iuniper, Martino, Vincentio.
Valen.
In health sir he will be here anon.
Christo.
Is he come home, then?
Valen.
I sir he is not past sixe miles hence, he sent me before
to learne if Count Ferneze were here and returne him word.
Christo.
Yes, my Lord is here; and you may tel your maister
he shal come very happily to take his leaue of Lord Paulo Ferneze:
who is now instantly to depart with other noble gentlemen,
vpon speciall seruice.
Valen.
I will tell him sir.
Christo.
I pray you doe, fellowes make him drinke.
Valen.
Sirs, what seruice ist they are imployed in?
Sebast.
Why against the French they meane to haue a fling
at Millaine againe they say.
Who leades our forces, can you tell?
Sebast.
Marry that do's Signior Maximilian? he is aboue, now.
Valen.
Who, Maximilian of Vicenza?
Balt.
I he? do you know him?
Valen.
Know him? O yes he's an excellent braue soldier.
Balt.
I so they say, but one of the most vaine glorious men
in Europe.
Valen.
He is indeed, marry exceeding valient.
Sebast.
And that is rare.
Balt.
What.
Sebast.
Why to see a vaineglorious man valient.
Valen.
Well he is so I assure you.
Enter Iuniper.
Iuni.
What no further yet, come on you precious rascall,
sir Valentine, Ile giue you a health I faith; for the heauen you
mad Capriceio, hold hooke and line.
Scæne 4.
Enter Lord Paulo Ferneze, his boy following him.Pau.
Boy.
Boy.
My Lord.
Pau.
Sirrah go vp to Signior Angelio,
And pray him (if he can) deuise some meanes,
To leaue my father, and come speake with me.
Boy
I will my Lord.
Pau.
Well heauen, be auspicious in the euent;
For I do this against my Genius,
And yet my thoughts cannot propose a reason,
Why I should feare, or faint thus in my hopes,
Of one so much endeered to my loue.
Some sparke it is, kindled within the soule:
Whose light yet breaks not to the outward sence,
That propagates this tymerous suspect;
His actions neuer carried any face
Of change, or weaknes then I iniury him?
In being thus cold conceited of his faith,
O here he comes.
Enter Angelo.
Ang.
How now sweet Lord, whats the matter?
Good faith his presence makes me halfe ashamd.
Of my straid thoughts. Boy. Bestow your selfe.
Exit Boy.
Where is my father, Signior Angelio.
Ang.
Marry in the galery, where your Lordship left him.
Pau.
Thats well. Then Angelo I will be briefe.
Since time forbids the vse of circumstance,
How well you are receiued in my affection,
Let it appeare by this one instance, onely
That now I will deliuer to your trust,
The deerest secrets, treasurd in my bosome,
Deare Angelio. You are not euery man,
But one, whome my election hath design'd,
As the true proper obiect of my soule:
I vrge not this t'insunuate my desert,
Or supple your tri'd temper, with soft phrases;
True frendship lothes such oyly complement:
But from th'aboundance of that loue, that flowes
Through all my spirits, is my speech enforc'd.
Ang.
Before your Lordship do proceed too far,
Let me be bould to intimate thus much;
That what so ere your wisedome hath t'expose,
Be it the waightiest and most rich affaire,
That euer was included in your breast,
My faith shall poise it, if not—
Pau.
O no more,
Those words haue rapt me with their sweet effects,
So freely breath'd, and so responsible,
To that which I endeuoured to extract,
Arguing a happy mixture of our soules.
Ange.
Why were there no such sympathy sweete Lord?
Yet the impressure of those ample fauours,
I haue deriu'd from your vnmatched spirit,
Would bind my faith to all obseruances.
Pau.
How! fauours Angello, ô speake not of them,
They are meere paintings, and import no merit,
Lookes my loue well? thereon my hopes are plac't:
Enters Boy.
Boy.
My Lord.
Pau.
How now?
Boy.
You are sought for all about the house, within,
The Count your father cals for you.
Pau.
God, what crosse euents do meet my purposes?
Now will he violently fret and grieue
That I am absent. Boy, say I come presently:
Exit Boy.
Sweet Angello, I cannot now insist
Vpon particulars, I must serue the time
The maine of all this is, I am in loue.
Ange.
Why starts your Lordship?
Pau.
I thought I heard my father comming hitherward, lift,
ha?
Ange.
I heare not any thing, it was but your imagination
sure.
Pau.
No.
Ange.
No, I assure your Lordship.
Pau.
I would worke safely.
Ange.
Why, has he no knowledge of it then?
Pau.
O no, no creature yet pertakes it but your selfe
In a third person, and beleeue me friend,
The world containes not now another spirit,
To whom I would reueile it. Harke, harke,
Seruants.
(within.)
Signior Paulo.
Lord Ferneze.
Ange.
A pox vpon those brazen throated slaues,
What are they mad, trow?
Pau.
Alas, blame not them,
Their seruices are (clock-like) to be set,
Backward and forward, at their Lords command,
You know my father's wayward, and his humour
Must not receiue a check, for then all obiects,
Feede both his griefe and his impatience,
And those affections in him, are like powder,
Apt to enflame with euery little sparke,
within. Count.
Why this is rare, is he not in the garden?
within. Crist.
I know not my Lord.
within. Count.
See, call him?
Pau.
He is comming this way, let's withdraw a little.
Exeunt.
Seruants.
within.
Signior Paulo, Lord Ferneze, Lord Paulo.
Scæne 5.
Enter Count Ferneze, Maximilian, Aurelia, Phœnixella, Sebast. Balthasar.Count.
VVhere should he be, trow? did you looke in the armory?
Sebast.
No my Lord.
Count.
No, why there? ô who would keepe such drones?
Exeunt Sebast. and Baltha.
How now, ha ye found him?
Enter Martino.
Mart.
No my Lord.
Count.
No my Lord, I shall haue shortly all my family
Speake nought, but no my Lord, where is Christophero,
Enter Chrristophero.
Looke how he stands, you sleepy knaue,
Exit Martino.
What is he not in the Garden?
Christo.
No my good Lord.
Count.
Your good Lord, ô how this smels of of fennell.
Enter Sebast. Baltha.
You haue bene in the garden it appeares, well, well.
Balth.
We cannot find him my Lord.
Sebast.
He is not in the armory.
Count.
He is not, he is no where, is he?
Maxi.
Count Ferneze.
Count.
Signior.
Maxi.
Preserue your patience honorable Count.
Count.
Patience? a Saint would loose his patience to be crost,
See see, how like a nest of Rookes they stand,
Enter Onion.
Gaping on one another now Diligence, what news bring you?
Oni.
Ant please your honour.
Count.
Tut, tut, leaue pleasing of my honour Diligence, you
double with we, come.
Oni.
How: does he find fault with Please his Honour.
S'wounds it has begun a seruingmans speech, euer since I belongd
to the blew order: I know not how it may shew, now I
am in blacke, but—
Count.
Whats that, you mutter sir? will you proceed?
Oni.
Ant like your good Lordship.
Count.
Yet more, Gods precious.
Oni.
What, do not this like him neither?
Count.
What say you sir knaue?
Oni.
Mary I say your Lordship were best to set me to
schoole againe, to learne how to deliuer a message.
Count.
What do you take exceptions at me then.
Oni.
Exception? I take no exceptions, but by Gods so your
humours—
Count.
Go to you are a Raskall, hold your tongue.
Oni.
Your Lordships poore seruant, I.
Count.
Tempt not my patience.
Oni.
Why I hope I am no spirit, am I?
Maxi.
My Lord, command your Steward to correct the
slaue.
Oni.
Correct him, S'bloud come you and correct him and
you haue a minde to it, correct him, that's a good iest I faith,
the Steward and you both, come and correct him.
Count.
Nay see, away with him, pull his cloth ouer his eares.
Oni.
Cloth? tell me of your cloth, here's your cloth, nay
and I mourne minute longer, I am the rottenest Onion that euer
spake with a tongue.
They thrust him out.
Maxi.
What call your hind's count Ferneze?
Count.
His name is Onion Signior,
Maxi.
I thought him some such sawcy companion.
Signior Maximillian.
Maxi.
Sweet Lord.
Count.
Let me intreat you, you would not regard
Any contempt flowing from such a spirit,
So rude, so barbarous.
Maxi.
Most noble Count vnder your fauour—
Coun.
Why Ile tell you Signior,
Heele bandy with me word for word, nay more,
Put me to silence, strike me perfect dumb;
And so amaze me, that oftentimes I know not,
Whether to check or cherish his presumption:
Therefore good Signior.
Maxi.
Sweet Lord satisfie your selfe, I am not now to learn
how to manage my affections, I haue obseru'd, and know
the difference betweene a base wretch and a true man, I can
distinguish them, the property of the wretch is, he would hurt
and cannot, of the man, he can hurt, and will not.
Coun.
Go to, my merry daughter, ô these lookes,
Agree well with your habit, do they not?
Enter Iuniper.
Iunip.
Tut, let me alone. By your fauour, this is the Gentleman
I thinke, Sir you appeare to be an honorable Gentleman,
I vnderstand, and could wish (for mine owne part) that
things were conden't otherwise then they are: but (the world
knowes) a foolish fellow, somewhat procliue, and hasty, he
did it in a preiudicate humour; mary now vpon better computation,
he wanes; he melts; his poore eyes are in a cold
sweat. Right noble Signior, you can haue but compunction, I
loue the man, tender your compassion.
Maxi.
Doth any man here vnderstand this fellow?
Iunip.
O God sir, I may say frustra to the comprehension
of your intellection.
Maxi.
Before the Lord, he speakes all riddle, I thinke.
I must haue a comment ere I can conceiue him.
Count.
Why he sues to haue his fellow Onion pardon'd,
And you must grant it Signior.
Maxi.
O with all my soule my Lord, is that his motion?
I sir, and we shall retort these kinde fauours with all
allacrity of spirit, we can sir, as may be most expedient, as
well for the quality as the cause, till when in spight of this
complement: I rest a poore Cobler, seruant to my honorable
Lord here, your friend and Iuniper.
Exit.
Maxi.
How Iuniper?
Count.
I Signior.
Maxi.
He is a sweete youth, his tongue has a happy turne
when he sleepes.
Enter Paulo Ferneze, Francisco, Colomea, Angelo, Valentine.
Count.
I for then it rests, O Sir your welcome,
Why God be thanked you are found at last:
Signior Coloma truly you are welcome,
I am glad to see you sir so well returned.
Fran.
I gladly thanke your honour, yet indeed
I am sory for such cause of heauinesse,
As hath possest your Lordship in my absence.
Count.
O Francisco, you knew her what she was!
Fran.
She was a wise and honorable Lady.
Count.
I was she not! well weepe not she is gone,
Passons duld eye can make two grieues of one,
Whom death marke out, vertue, nor bluod can saue,
Princes, as beggers, all must feed the graue.
Max.
Are your horse ready Lord Paulo,
Pau.
I signior the stay for vs at the gate.
Max.
Well tis good. Ladies I will take my leaue of you,
Be your fortunes as your selues? faire. Come let vs to horse,
Count Ferneze I beare a spirit full of thanks for all your honorable
courtesies.
Count.
Sir I could wish the number and value of them more
in respect of your deseruings. But Signior Maximillian.
Aur.
I Faith brother you are fitted for a generall yonder,
Beshrow my heart (If I had Fortunatus hat here) and I would
not with my selfe a man and go with you, only t'enioy his presence.
Why do you loue him so well sister.
Aur.
No by my troth, but I haue such an odde prety apprehension
of his humour me thinks: that I am cene tickled with
the conceite of it.
Ang.
And me thinks another may beas fine as he.
Aur.
O Angelio, do you thinke I do vrge any comparison against
you? no, I am not so ill bred, as to be a deprauer of your
worthines: beleeue me, if I had not some hope of your abiding
with vs, I should neuer desire to go out of black whilst I liued:
but learne to speake i'the nose, and turne puritan presently.
Ang.
I thanke you Lady: I know you can flout.
Aur.
Come doe you take it so? I faith you wrong me.
Fran.
I, but Maddame,
Thus to disclaime in all the effects of pleasure,
May make your sadnesse seeme to much affected,
And then the proper grace of it is lost.
Phœnix.
Indeed sir, if I did put on this sadnesse
Onely abroad, and in Society,
And were in priuate merry; and quick humor'd;
Then might it seeme affected and abhord:
But as my lookes appeare, such is my spirit,
Drown'd vp with confluence of griefe, and melancholy,
That like to riuers run through all my vaines,
Quenching the pride and feruour of my bloud.
Max.
My honorable Lord? no more.
There is the honour of my bloud ingag'd,
For your sonnes safety.
Count.
Signior, blame me not,
For tending his security so much,
He is mine onely sonne, and that word onely.
Hath with his strong, and reprecussiue sound,
Stroke my heart cold, and giuen it a deepe wound.
Max.
Why but stay, I beseech you, had your Lordship euer
any more sonnes then this.
Count.
Why haue not you knowen it Maximilian?
Let my Sword faile me then.
Count.
I had one other yonger borne then this,
By twise so many how ers as would fill
The circle of a yeare, his name Camillo,
Whome in that blacke, and fearfull night I lost,
(Tis now a nineteene yeares agone at least,
And yet the memory of it fits as fresh
Within my braine as twere but yesterday)
It was that night wherein the great Chamont,
The generall for France surprised Vicenza,
Me thinks the horrour of that clamorous shout
His souldiers gaue'when they attaind the wall,
Yet tingles in mine eare, me thinkes I see
With what amazed lookes, distracted thoughts,
And minds confus'd, we, that were citizens,
Confronted one another: euery street
Was fild with bitter selfe tormenting cries,
And happy was that foote, that first could presse,
The flowry champaigne, bordering on Verona.
Heere I (imploy'd about my deare wiues safety)
Whose soule is now in peace) lost my Camillo.
Who sure was murdered by the barbarous Souldiers,
Or else I should haue heard—my heart is great.
Sorrow is faint? and passion makes me sweat.
Max.
Grieue not sweet Count: comfort your spirts, you
haue a sonne a noble gentleman, he stands in the face of honour:
For his safety let that be no question. I am maister of my
fortune, and he shall share with me. Farewell my honorable
Lord, Ladies once more adiew, for your selfe maddam you are
a most rare creature, I tell you so, be not proud of it, I loue you:
come Lord Paulo to horse.
Pau.
Adiew good Signior Francesco: farewell sister.
Sound a tucket, and as they passe euery one seuerally depart, Maximilian, Paulo Ferneze and Angelo remaine
Ang.
How shall, we rid him hence.
Why well inough? sweet Signior Maximilian,
I haue some small occasion to stay:
If it may please you but take horse afore
Ile ouer take you, ere your troopes be rang'd.
Max.
Your motion hath tast wel: Lord Ferneze I go.
Exit Max.
Pau.
Now if my loue faire Rachel, were so happy,
But to looke forth. See fortune doth me grace.
Enter Rachel.
Before I can demaund? how now loue.
Where is your father?
Rach.
Gone abroad my Lord:
Pau.
Thats well.
Rach.
I but I feare heele presently returne,
Are you now going my most honored Lord?
Pau.
I my sweet Rachel.
Ang.
Before God, she is a sweet wench.
Pau.
Rachel I hope I shall not need to vrge,
The sacred purity of our effects,
As if it hung in triall or suspence:
Since in our hearts, and by our mutuall vowes,
It is confirmd and seald in fight of heauen.
Nay doe not weepe, why starte you? feare not, Loue.
Your father cannot be return'd so soone,
I prithee doe not looke so heauily,
Thou shalt want nothing.
Rach.
No is your presence nothing?
I shall want that, and wanting that, want all:
For that is all to me.
Pau.
Content thee sweet,
I haue Made choise here of a constant friend
This gentleman? one, whose zealous loue
I doe repose more, then on all the world,
Thy beauteous selfe excepted: and to him,
Haue I committed my deere care of thee,
As to my genius, or my other soule,
Receiue him gentle loue, and what deffects
The time is enuious of our longer stay.
Farewell deere Rachel.
Rach:
Most deere Lord, adew,
Heauen and honour crowne your deeds, and you.
Exit Rachel.
Pau.
Faith tell me Angelio how dost thou like her?
Ang.
Troth well my Lord, but shall I speake my mind.
Pau.
I prithee doe.
Ang.
She is deriud too meanely to be wife
To such a noble person, in my iudgement.
Pau.
Nay then thy iudgement is to meane, I see,
Didst thou neare read in difference of good,
Tis more to shine in vertue then in bloud.
Enter Iaques.
Ang.
Come you are so sententious my Lord.
Pau.
Here comes her father. How dost thou good Iaques?
Ang.
God saue thee Iaques.
Iaq.
What should this meane? Rachel open the dore.
Exit Iaques.
Ang.
Sbloud how the poore slaue lookes, as though
He had bene haunted by the spirit Lar,
Or seene the ghost of some great Satrapas
In an vnsauory sheet.
Pau.
I muse he spake not, belike he was amazd
Comming so suddenly and vnprepard? Well lets go.
Exeunt.
| A Pleasant Comedy, Called :The Case is Altered | |