University of Virginia Library

Actus Primi

Scen: 1a:

{A Wood}
Florimond.
Cleander Dorimant. Calidor {Wounded}
Hee Breathes

Dor:
Bowe him gently, my Lord,
There's Hope of Life enough to quitt the Trouble;
Hee stirres.

Flor.
Soe Blesse mee, Gods, as I would Succor
This noble Stranger, ffor hee seemes noe Lesse

Clean.
His shape speakes much for him, but ye rude Villains
Regard noe Lawes of Honour.

Flor.
Which way tooke they?

Dor.
Towards the Thickett; but it seemes his Hand
Holds as great Charmes ore Vallour, as his fface
On Loue; for three of that inhumane Crew
Lye prostrate on the Earth from whence I bore him
To hollo you in to vs.

Flor.
Th'are those Rogues
That prey on Rapine in these Desolate Woods;
But ô yee Gods if you'l engage mee [m] still
Giue mee him back yt I may owne that Worth
Which it should seeme you once haue Lou'd.

Cal.
Oh. oh.

Flor.
That sound, though it be sadd, begetts a Hope
That better Things may ffollow. Lift him up.

Dor.
Hee opes his Eyes

Cal.
Oh.

Flor.
Rest him softly here

Cal.
Fortune!

Clean.
Hee ffaints.

Flor.
With what a nimble scorne
Hee Clos'd his Eyes, as if hee thought ye Earth:
Vnworthy to enjoy him.

Cal.
Gentlemen,
Who ere you Bee that Labour to prolong
A wretched Life I would my present ffortunes
Would giue mee Leaue to thanke you; but I pray
Toyle not yor Selues, for 'tis a Courtesie
That I may Liue to curse you for.

Flor.
Braue Sr:
Wee would be Troublesom, not Offensiue to you,
But since the Gods haue brought us to the Place
Where they soe much haue Suffred in yor Wounds,
Wee must force yor endangerd Life upon you,
And serue theire Wills.

Cal.
Seas whither haue you brought mee?
Sure Courtesy growes here: All ye Courts & Kingdomes
That these Unhappy ffeet haue Wanderd o're
May Learne at this wild Desart to be noble;
I bleed my Thankes to you, for it is now
The next way from my Heart. What may I call
This Land?

Flor.
Corsica; Whither I dare bidd you Welcome,
A Kingdom gouern'd by a Mayden Queene,
And shee shall doe noe Lesse. shee's hunting here.
My Lord Cleander wc h way tooke shee?

Clean.
After the Stagg
Like Lightning; Not Diana rides a Horse
With greater Maiestie

Flor.
O shee's a Queene!

Clean.
I'm gladd on't for yor sake my Lord; you are
The sunne wee all must Looke on now; shortly
The Husband of our Queene; but good faith I
Spoke not in fflatterie

Flo:
How feele you your Wounds sr?

Calid.
Nothing. meere Schratches. ye blow yt stonyd mee
Was on my Head, and 'tis the Worst I hope.
To Dorimant
Sr you were my Preseruer

Dor.
Tis my Glorie;
But Sr y'haue taught our Wood-Theiues better manners
Then sett on you agen.

Clean.
Ther's the Queene.

Scen 2a.

Wind Hornes— then as from Hunting Enter—
Achæa. Antiope. Florimond. Calidor. Natolion. Cleander Dorimant Alceus. Phocillus.
Ach.
Now fy upon thee, fflorimond; Th'hast lost
The brauest Sport!

Flor.
Yor Majestie haz pull'd downe
The Stagg then.

Ach.
But I had such a ffall (o Florimond)
('Tis well there were none by) I thought't had killd mee

Flor.
Wo'od I'd bin there t'haue helpt yor Mat i e: up.

Ach.
'Twas well you wert not; But up I gott,
And when the Cruell Hounds were all upon him,
Good faith the poore Beast wept.

Flo.
And Could you blame him
To see your Highnesse soe unmercifull?

Shee Embraces & Kisses him. Natolion frowns
Ach.
I must putt off my Mat i e: I see,
For you will be ffamiliar. My Lords can you Brooke
A Subject to be soe bold with yor Queene?

Natol:
Good Venus! What are Women? That a Queene
Should doate soe On a Subject whom shee must
fforgoe if there be Gods, or my Brayne hold

Flor.
But Madam I haue ta'ne a nobler 'Say,
And Loosing your blest Presence ffor a While
Florimond prsents Calidor to the Queene.
The gods were pleas'd to Entertaine my Thoughts
With an Aduenture worthy my best Thankes,
As of yor Court, and [N] ffavour

Ach.
Florimond,
They must be Deare to us whom you Commend'st,
Tis in thy Power to make him what thou wilt,
But found you him thus Wounded?

Dor.
Madam I did,
But yet with soe much Honor on his Side
As that two Villaines onely left of ffiue
Did seeme t'haue made way rather to his Life
Then to the Conquest

Ach.
Sr receiue our Loue,
And what this Ile affordeth for yor helpe
Command, as Satisfaction for your Wrong.
Alas you bleed much. Let mee see your Wounds Sr,
Wee Spend too much on idle Complement
When wee should be a Doing. Sister pray 'ee
Pluck off, and teare my Vaile to binde his Wounds

Ant.
Here is a scarfe will serue;
Quickly quickly Madam.

Ach.
Soe soe soe.

Cal.
Madam yor Exlent Goodnesse makes mee Blush
To see my Blood grac't by your Sacred Hands
Ere it hath serued your Highnesse, but be pleas'd
(Now it hath Learnt the way vnto your ffeet)
For to Command it, & the Life that will
Be proud to follow't

Ach.
I accept of Both,
And for a Testimonie of my Loue
I prithee Florimond take him to thy Heart,
And use him as my ffriend

Flor.
It is a guift
Embraces him.
Next to your Gracious Selfe I thanke ye Gods for «t»,
Come All my Blisse in Man, receiue an Armefull
Of Loyalty and Seruice to thy Bosom

Nat.
This is Deu'lish hott Loue!

Flor.
Henceforth Friends,
Noe strangers anie Longer. yet thy Pardon
For I may seeme too fond to make thee Mine,
And not thy Name.

Cal.
Men Call mee Calidor,
But you haue made Choice of a Friend in mee
That knowes noe kinne, or Parentage; Acquainted
With nothing in my selfe but my Misfortunes,
And if you aske my Countrie, I know none
But ye wide World; nor anie Thing in it,
But Rapines, Murthers. Incest, Pride, & Scornes,
Who by the Tempest of my Passions Hurl'd
To Surrly Seas; by them Betrayd to Pyrats;
And by Those Pyrats Cast upon this Shore
Mongst Landwolues; And from them into yor Mercy
Comes your Poore Broken ffriend; The Earth yt Last
I wanderd in was that Sardinia
That would not Call mee sonne; I snatcht my Greifes,
And goe to Looke out Fortune.

Ach.
Y'haue preuented
Some Questions I entended to Propose
But Sleepe the Mem'ry of yor Sufferings
I will not Wake it

Nat.
I haue seene that fface!
My Lord Dorimant you haue ffound a Patterne
For Nature to worke by. Haue at ye Princesse
Antiope now.

Phocillus Courting Antiope Aside: Alceus ffretts
Dor.
Nay see: my Lord Phocillus
Is driueing that naile home

Cle:
I but Alceus will
Not let him Clinch it; See how their Eyes Quarrell;
They were the greatest ffriends! Alceus trusted him
To woe for him forsooth, and hee did soe
But gott her heart for himselfe.

Nat.
If this goe fforward
The Queene to marrie Florimond, and ye Princesse,
Phocillus, two Subjects, because they Haue
Good ffaces, Pages then be Priuie Councello.r s

Cle.
Will you stand yet still betwixt yor Sonne
And his Aduancement?

Nat.
My Sonne shall be noe king
While I'm a Subject. Florimond—be Wise

Cle.
The strang Part of a ffather this! Hee has
Held off ye Match this two yeares and 'tis thought
will not permitt the Queene to marry yett
But hee's Wise.

Dor.
Aboue my Understanding. Hee rules ye Rost.

Alceus comes up to Phocillus
Alc.
My Lord Phocillus
I'ue Waited Long upon your Chatt, to tender
My Seruice to the Princesse

Pho.
It were good
You did soe still.

Alc.
Wee shall Meet:

Pho.
If you shunne not the way

Alce.
This is noe Place!

Pho.
One of your Seruants, Madam are Dispatcht

Ant.
Alas poore gentleman I pitty him,
But good Phocillus beare him for my Sake;
Hee's of a modest Temper, & I prithee
Decline all Quarrells with him.

Pho.
I haue none,
For trust mee I could Loue him as my Selfe,
But when hee stands Competitor for you
Could hee be nearer to mee then my Brother
I would breake through his Heart, & in his Blood
Write my Iust Title to you

Ant.
What needs this?
The Gods themselues nere heard mee sweare but Once
And then Twas to be Thine—but here's noe Place
To giue ffresh Testimonyes

Achæa & Florim: fall from ye i r Whisper
Ach.
Well my Florimond
The Tyme's not Lame that brings thy joyes along;
Thou shalt haue all Content. most noble Sr
Let us to horse & hast to make your Welcom
Vp free and noble

Cal.
I am All your Majestyes.

Ach.
My Lord Natolion, I hope Ere Long
To Aske you blessing. Doe you Smile at it?

Scena 3a

Natolion
solus.
Queenes rule not ffor themselues, nor is it safe
For Subjects to Controll theyr Appetites,
But my heart tells mee yt for Mee to be
Disloyall is to be Honest, & I will;
The Gods I hope haue sent this stranger hither
For theyr Owne Glorie, and the Troubled State.
Answere my Hopes! Must my Sonne! (O my soule
How thou doest teeme with Horrour) Bed the Queene?
And shee—oh—Plott my Braine; It must not be.

Scena 4a.

Diocles. Beotto.
Dioc.

Beotto the queene will marry [Diocles] Florimond out of
hand ffor Certaine.

Beott.

I doubt her Honour Requir'd it sooner. Her
fflanck is sufficientlie fill'd with something; but I'm
a foole!

Dio.

Of a Trayto
r o' my Conscience the Worst yt euer was. tho
u: speakest Treason as easly as wiser Men are hang'd fort

Beott.

If I had my Right a Thousand such as thou
had beene cutt into «a» Hundred Peeces for yo
r treasons; but «t» I hope the Gods haue Eares

Dioc.

Soe must noe man haue Long, that accompanies the «*»
While there's ere a Pillorie ith'Kingdom.

Beot.

And that gray Beard Natolion, that Lookes like
an Owle, in's great Ruffe, (you haue all fine Trickes)
Durst putt my Poore Boy, his Lawfull Prince, into a
Scullions Place.

Dio.

Why Heele Learne to Quarter and Parboyle agains«*»
hee be King. My Lord Natolion was wise in't.

Beott.

Youl Answere this Diocles; you dare all Abuse
mee; but the Queen had as good marrie my sonne, as y
t Catamite Florimond, and soe sett the Crowne ith'right
Place. If that unfortunate Prince her Brother had
not Miscaried hee Would—

Dio.

Haue giuen the Kingdom to thee I warrant,

Beot.

'Tis mine by Right; for euery body Knowes her
Mother would haue toucht, and Im sure the old
King was not able

Dio.

Prithee Keepe thy Treason w
t hin Dores lest I be hangd for Hearing thee.

Scena. 5a.

Captaine. Diocles. Beotto.
Cap.

Who's That?

Dio.

The ffinest ffardle of Impertinences, y
t followes the Court; I use him for my Second Course; A fellow of a
crased Braine, and verily thinkes himselfe the True—
heire to th'Crowne. If thou desyre to heare Treason
Spoke freelie, Accost him.

Cap

Tis not hee the Lords make such Sport with?

Dio.

The Same. I «would» king him into One of his
Fittes to Crosse Natolion whose Austerity could neuer
brooke him.

Cap.

I thought his Wisdom could not haue stumbled
at a ffoole.

Dioc.

O, Extreamely! But this foole does as uerily
thinke hee shall be King at Last, as I'm sure yo
r Captaineship would borrow Money now if you knew
where.

Cap.

Saue you S
r.

Beott.

All that Diocles has told you, s
r, is true. I should not need to goe in this old Suite of Natolions Prouiding
if I had my Right.

Dioc.

Noe ffaith yo
u woul«d»st be Caried about halfe a Mile out of Towne

Beott.

To th'Gallowes if you might haue yo
r Will; but S
r, you seeme a Captaine; I'm the Most wronged

Man in Corsica. I'm the true King' Im not asham'd
on't. But Might ouer-Rules Right—Iue better
Blood in my Body then the Queene; but it's noe matter,
the Queenes a Woman—yet shee's some akin to mee
I must Confesse

Dio.

Shee's Beholden to you, Beotto. Euery body will
not know [m«*»] their Poore ffriends

Beot.

Pray hold yo
r Peace; This Gentleman understands Sence, I warrant you.—but indeed shee's of
a yonger House

Cap.

I wounder you doe not Clayme the Crowne.

Beot.

I did once, but Natolion Caus'd mee to be
whipt from the Court Gate quite through the Citty,
hell plague him for't.

Cap.

But how proue you your Title?

Beot.

Records show sixe hundred yeares agon y
t I was to Succeed, but they keep 'em close enough from
mee; I, I they are braue Councello
r s sure

Scena 6a.

Florimond Calidor. Diocles. Captaine. Beotto:
Flor.

What does that ffoole doe here?

Beot.

I They are Fooles with you that would be
Kings; but I would you would not robbe mee of
my Right

Flor.
Away wt h him.

Dio.
Begon be gonne.

Beotto.
Well; there are Gods aboue.

Cal.
What strange ffellowe's this?

Flor.
A ffrantique yt sharkes here about ye Court.
Hee Came to th'Lords at Death of ye Queen's ffather
Exeunt Beotto. Capt. Diocles.
And swore hee had Reuelation from the Gods
To Demand the Crowne, as his Right, wt h such Whimseyes
As but make him to the Court Ridiculous,
And soe hee passeth. But, My noble ffriend,
I must not wast my Breath, for I shall want
To pay my Thankes to Heauen. To Morrow Calidor
Thou must waite on the Nuptialls of the Queene;
My Hopes are Answerd, ffrend, & Secretly,
With next Sunne, I shall wedd her, in her Clossett.

Cal.
I wonder at yor ffather tho

Flor.
O ffriend,
My ffate has broke his Plottes what ere they be
And the blest Morne shall see mee Court a Bride
As faire as his Owne Mistrisse

Cal.
Hymen be there,
And all his Blessings; May you teach Uenus Ioyes,
And Chaine Peace Captiue euer to yor Land.

Flor.
Putt off thy Wounds to Morrow; Thou shalt dance
And in the Cradle of Her blessed Chinne
Lay all thy Greifes asleepe. Come quickly Morne,
Or else my Ioyes will turne mee into Ayre;
O Calidor! Is shee not Sweet? All Goodnesse?
All Heauen? All Delight? Gods be not Wrath,
If I forget my Orizons to Night
In Dreaming of her face.

Cal.
You doe Oblige 'em
To showre downe Blessings on you; Be you happie,
And if your Fortune Call to Draw a Sword
I haue an Arme, & One I hope will Cutt.

Flor.
I thanke thee ffriend, & what this Honor Drawes
Along with it, is thine—But I would doe,
And not talke Much.