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Al Fooles

A Comedy
  
  
  

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Actus secundi
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Actus secundi

Scæna prima.

Gostanzo, Marcantonio.
Gost.
It is your owne too simple lenitie,
And doting indulgence showne to him still
That thus hath taught your Sonne to be no Sonne,
As you haue vs'd him, therefore so you haue him:
Durst my Sonne thus turne rebell to his dutie,
Steale vp a match vnshuting his estate
Without all knowledge of or friend or father;
And to make that good with a worse offence
resolue to runne beyond Sea to the warres.
Durst my Sonne serue me thus? well, I haue stayd him,
Though much against my disposition,
And this howre I haue set for his repayre,
With his young mistresse and concealed wife,
And in my house here they shall soiourne both
Till your blacke angers storme be ouer-blowne.

Mar.
My angers storme? Ah poore Fortunio,
One gentle word from thee would soone resolue
The storme of my rage to a showre of teares.

Gost.
In that vaine still? well Marcantonio,
Gur olde acquaintance and long neighbourhood
Ties my affection to you, and the good
Of your whole house; in kinde regard whereof
I haue aduisde you for your credite sake,
And for the tender welfare of your sonne,
To frowne on him a little; if you do not
But at first parle take him to your fauour,
I protest vtterly to renownce all care
Of you and yours, and all your amities.
They say hee's wretched that out of himselfe
Cannot draw counsell to his propper weale,
But hee's thrice wretched that has neither counsell
Within himselfe, nor apprehension


Of counsaile for his owne good, from another.

Mar.
Well, I will arme my selfe against this weaknes
The best I can; I long to see this Hellene
That hath enchaunted my young Paris thus,
And's like to set all our poore Trope on fire.

Enter Valerio with a Page. Marc. retyres himselfe.
Gost.
Here comes my Sonne; withdraw, take vp your stand,
You shall heare odds betwixt your Sonne and mine.

Val.
Tell him I can not doo't: Shall I be made
A foolish Nouice, my Purse set a broch
By euerie cheating come you seauen? to lend
My Money and be laught at? tell him plaine
I professe Husbandrie, and will not play
The Prodigall like him, gainst my profession.

Gost.
Here's a Sonne.

Mar.
An admirable sparke.

Page.
Well sir, Ile tell him so.
Exit Page.

Ual.
Sfoote, let him lead
A better Husbands life, and liue not idlely,
Spending his time, his coyne, and selfe on Wenches.

Gost.
Why what's the matter Sonne?

Ual.
Cry mercie Sir; why there comes messengers
From this and that braue Gallant: and such Gallants,
As I protest I saw but through a Grate.

Gost.
And what's this Message?

Val.
Faith Sir, hee's disappoynted
Of payments; and disfurnisht of meanes present:
If I would do him the kind office therefore
To trust him but some seuen-night with the keeping
Of fourtie Crownes for mee, hee deepely sweares
As hee's a Gentleman, to discharge his trust,
And that I shall eternally endeare him
To my wisht seruice, he protestes and contestes.



Gost.
Good words Ualerio; but thou art too wise
To be deceiu'd by breath: Ile turne thee loose
To the most cunning Cheater of them all.

Ual.
Sfoote, Hee's not a ashamde besides to charge mee
With a late Promise: I must yeeld in deed,
I did (to shift him with some contentment)
Make such a friuall promise.

Gost.
I, well done,
Promises are no Fetters: with that tongue
Thy promise past, vnpromise it againe,
Wherefore has Man a Tongue, of powre to speake,
But to speake still to his owne priuate purpose?
Beastes vtter but one sound; but Men haue change
Of speach and Reason, euen by Nature giuen them:
Now to say one thing, and an other now,
As best may serue their profitable endes.

Mar.
Ber-Ladie sound instructions to a Sonne.

Ual.
Nay Sir, he makes his claime by debt of friendship.

Gost.
Tush, Friendship's but a Terme boy: the fond world
Like to a doting Mother glases ouer
Her Childrens imperfections with fine tearmes:
What she calls Frindship and true humane kindnes,
Is onely want of true Experience:
Honestie is but a defect of Witt,
Respect but meere Rusticitie and Clownerie.

Mar.
Better and better.
Soft, here comes my Sonne.

Enter Fortunion, Rinaldo, and Gratiana.
Rin.
Fortunio, keepe your countenance: See sir here
The poore young married couple, which you pleasd
To send for to your house.

Gost.
Fortunio welcome,
And in that welcome I imploy your wiues,
Who I am sure you count your second selfe.

He kisses her.


For.
Sir, your right noble fauours do exceede
All powre of worthy gratitude by words,
That in your care supplie my Fathers place.

Gost.
Fortunio, I can not chuse but loue you,
Being Sonne to him who long time I haue lou'd:
From whose iust anger, my house shall protect you,
Till I haue made a calme way to your meetings.

For.
I little thought Sir, that my Fathers loue
Would take so ill, so sleight a fault as this.

Gost.
Call you it sleight? Nay though his spirit take it
In higher manner then for your lou'd sake,
I would haue wisht him; yet I make a doubt,
Had my Sonne done the like, if my affection
Would not haue turnd to more spleene, then your Fathers:
And yet I quallifie him, all I can,
And doubt not but that time and my perswasion,
Will worke out your excuse: since youth and loue
Were th'vnresisted organies to seduce you:
But you must giue him leaue, for Fathers must
Be wonne by penitence and submission,
And not by force or opposition.

For.
Ahlas Sir, what aduise you mee to doe?
I know my Father to be highly moou'd,
And am not able to endure the breath
Of his exprest displeasure, whose hote flames
I thinke my absence soonest would haue quencht.

Gost.
True Sir, as fire with oyle, or else like them
That quench the sire with pulling downe the house,
You shall remaine here in my house conceal'd
Till I haue wonne your Father to conceiue
Kinder opinion of your ouersight.
Ualerio entertaine Fortunio
And his faire wife, and giue them conduct in.

Val.
Y'are welcome sir.

Gost.
What sirha is that all?
No entertainment to the Gentlewoman?



Ual.
Forsooth y'are welcome by my Fathers leaue.

Gost.
What no more complement?
Kisse her you sheepes-head,
Why when? Go go Sir, call your Sister hither.
Exit Ual.
Ladie, youle pardon our grosse bringing vp?
Wee dwell farre off from Court you may perceiue:
The sight of such a blazing Starre as you,
Dazles my rude Sonnes witts.

Grat.
Not so good Sir,
The better husband, the more courtlie euer.

Rin.
In deed a Courtier makes his lipps go farre,
As he doth all things else.

Enter Uolerio, Bell.
Gost.
Daughter reciue
This Gentlewoman home, and vse her kindly.

She kisses her
Bell.
My Father bids you kindly welcome Lady,
And therefore you must needes come well to mee.

Grat.
Thanke you for-soth.

Gost.
Goe Dame, conduct-am in.
Exeunt Rinaldo, Fortunio, Bell, Grat.
Ah errant Sheepes-head, hast thou liu'd thus long,
And dar'st not looke a Woman in the face?
Though I desire especially to see
My Sonne a Husband, Shall I therefore haue him
Turne absolute Cullion? Lets see, kisse thy hand.
Thou kisse thy hand? thou wip'st thy mouth by th'masse.
Fie on thee Clowne; They say the world's growne finer,
But I for my part, neuer saw Youngmen
Worse fashin'd and brought vp then now adayes.
Sfoote, when my selfe was young, was not I kept
As farre from Court as you? I thinke I was:
And yet my Father on a time inuited
The Dutchesse of his house; I beeing then
About some fiue and twentie yeares of age,


Was thought the onelie man to entertaine her:
I had my Conge; plant my selfe of one legg,
Draw backe the tother with a deepe fetcht honor:
Then with a Bell regard aduant mine eye
With boldnes on her verie visnomie.
Your Dauncers all were counterfets to mee:
And for discourse in my faire Mistresse presence,
I did not as you barraine Gallants doe,
Fill my discourses vp drinking Tobacco;
But on the present furnisht euer more
With tales and practisde speeches; as some times
What ist a clocke? What stuff's this Petticoate?
What cost the making? What the Frindge and all?
And what she had vnder her Petticoate?
And such like wittie complements: and for need,
I could haue written as good Prose and Verse,
As the most beggerlie Poet of am all,
Either accrostique, Exordion,
Epithalamious, Satyres, Epigrams,
Sonnets in Doozens, or your Quatorzanies,
In any Rime Masculine, Feminine,
Or Sdrnciolla, or cooplets, Blancke Verse,
Y'are but bench-whistlers now a dayes to them
That were in our times: well, about your Husbandrie,
Go, for I'fayth th'art fit for nothing else.

Exit Val. prodit Mar.
Mar.
Ber-Ladie you haue plaide the Courtier rarelie.

Gost.
But did you euer see so blanck a Foole,
When he should kisse a Wench, as my Sonne is?

Mar.
Ahlas tis but a little bashfulnes,
You let him keepe no companie, nor allow him
Monie to spend at Fence and Dauncing-scholes,
Y'are too seueere y'faith.

Gost.
And you too supple.
VVell Sir, for your sake I haue slaide your Sonne
From flying to the warres: now see you rate him,
To staie him yet from more expencefull courses,


Wherein your lenitie will encourage him.

Mar.
Let me alone, I thank you for this kindnes.

Exeunt.
Enter Ualerio and Rinaldo.
Rin.
So, are they gone? Now tell me braue Ualerio
Haue I not wonne the wreath from all your wits,
Brought thee t'enioy the most desired presence
Of thy deare loue at home? and with one labour
My brother t'enioy thy sister, where
It had beene her vndooing t'haue him seene,
And make thy father craue what he abhorres:
T'entreate my brother home t'enioy his daughter,
Commaund thee kisse thy wench, chide for not kissing,
And worke all this out of a Macheuil,
A miserable Politician?
I thinke the like was neuer plaid before!

Vale.
Indeede I must commend thy wit of force,
And yet I know not whose deserues most praise
Of thiue, or my wit: thine for plotting well,
Mine, that durst vndertake and carrie it
With such true forme.

Rin.
Well, th'euening crownes the daie,
Perseuer to the end, my wit hath put
Blinde Fortunne in a string into your hand,
Vse it discreetlie, keepe it from your Father,
Or you may bid all your good daies good night.

Ual.
Let me alone boy.

Rin.
Well sir, now to varie
The pleasures of our wits, thou knowst Valerio
Here is the new turnd Gentlemans faire wife,
That keepes thy wife and sister companie;
With whome the amorous Courtier Doriotto
Is farre in loue, and of whome her sowre husband
Is passing ielous, puts on Eagles eies
To prie into her carriage. Shall wee see.


If he be now from home, and visite her.
Enter Gazetta sowing, Cornelio following.
See, see, the prisoner comes.

Ual.
But soft Sir, see
Her ielous Iaylor followes at her heeles:
Come, we will watch some fitter time to boord her,
And in the meane time seeke out our mad crue,
My spirit longs to swagger.

Rin.
Goe too youth, walke not too boldly, if the Sergeants meete you;
You may haue swaggering worke your bellie full.

Val.
No better Copesmates,
Gazetto sits and singes sowing.
Ile go seeke am out with this light in my hand,
The slaues grow proud with seeking out of vs.

Exeunt.
Cor.
A prettie worke, I pray what flowers are these?

Gaze.
The Pancie this.

Cor.
O thats for louers thoughtes.
Whats that, a Columbine?

Gaze.
No, that thankles Flower fitts not my Garden.

Cor.
Him? yet it may mine:
This were a pretrie present for some friend,
Some gallant Courtier, as for Doriotto,
One that adores you in his soule I know.

Gaz.
Mee? why mee more then your selfe I pray?

Cor.
O yes, hee adores you, and adhornes mee:
Yfaith deale plainelie, Doe not his kisses relish
Much better then such Pessants as I am?

Gaz.
Whose kisses?

Cor.
Doriottoes; does he not?
The thing you wot on?



Gaz.
What thing good Lord?

Cor.
Why Lady, lie with you?

Gaz.
Lie with mee?

Cor.
I with you.

Gaz.
You with mee indeed.

Cor.
Nay I am told that he lies with you too,
And that he is the onely Whore-maister
About the Cittie.

Gaz.
Yf he be so onely,
Tis a good hearing that there are no more.

Cor.
Well Mistresse well, I will not be abusde,
Thinke not you daunce in Netts; for though you do not
Make brode profession of your loue to him,
Yet do I vnderstand your darkest language,
Your treads ath'toe, your secret iogges and wringes:
Your entercourse of glaunces: euery tittle
Of your close Amorous rites I vnderstand,
They speake as loud to mee, as if you said,
My dearest Dariotto, I am thine.

Gaz.
Iesus what moodes are these? did euer Husband
Follow his Wife with Ielosie so vniuft?
That once I lou'd you, you your selfe will sweare.
And if I did, where did you lose my Loue?
In deed this strange and vndeserued vsage,
Hath powre to shake a heart were nere so setled:
But I protest all your vnkindnes, neuer
Had strength to make me wrong you, but in thought.

Cor.
No, not with Doriotto?

Gaz.
No by heauen.

Cor.
No Letters past, nor no designes for meeting?

Gaz.
No by my hope of heauen.

Cor.
Well, no time past,
Goe goe; goe in and sow.

Gaz.
Well, bee it so.

Exit Gaz.
Cor.
Suspition is (they say) the first degree
Of deepest wisedome: and how euer others


Inueygh against this mood of Ielousy,
For my part I suppose it the best curb,
To check the ranging appetites that raigne
In this weake sexe: my neighbours poynt at me
For this my ielousy; but should I doe
As most of them doe; let my wife fly out
To feasts and reuels, and inuite home Gallants,
Play Menelaus, giue them time and place,
While I sit like a well-taught wayting-woman,
Turning her eyes vpon some worke or picture,
Read in a Booke, or take a fayned nap,
While her kind Lady takes one to her lap?
No, let me still be poynted at, and thought
A ielouse Asse, and not a wittally Knaue.
I haue a shew of Courtyers haunt my house,
In shew my friends, and for my profit too:
But I preceiue vm, and will mock their aymes,
With looking to their marke, I warrant vm:
I am content to ride abroad with them,
To reuell, dice, and fit their other sports;
But by their leaues ile haue a vigilant eye
To the mayne chaunce still. See my braue Comrades.

Enter Dariotto, Claudio and Valerio: Valerio putting vp his Sword.
Dar.
Well, wag, well, wilt thou still deceiue thy father,
And being so simple a poore soule before him,
Turne swaggerer in all companies besides?

Clau.
Hadst thou bin rested, all would haue come forth.

Val.
Soft, sir, there lyes the poynt; I do not doubt,
But t'haue my penny worths of these Rascals one day:
Ile smoke the buzzing Hornets from their nests,
Or else ile make their lether lerkins stay.
The whorson hungry Horse-flyes; Foot, a man
Cannot so soone, for want of Almanacks,
Forget his day but three or foure bare moneths,


But strait he fees a sort of Corporals,
To lye in Ambuscado to surprize him.

Dar.
Well, thou hadst happy fortune to escape vm.

Val.
But they thought theirs was happier to scape me.
I walking in the place, where mens law suites
Are heard and pleaded, not so much as dreaming
Of any such encounter, steps me forth
Their valiant fore-man, with the word, I rest you.
I made no more adoe, but layd these pawes
Close on his shoulders, tumbling him to earth;
And there sate he on his posteriors,
Like a Baboone; and turning me about,
I strayt espyed the whole troope issuing on me.
I stept me backe, and drawing my olde friend heere,
Made to the midst of them, and all vnable
T'endure the shock, all rudely fell in rout,
And downe the stayres they ranne with such a fury,
As meeting with a troope of Lawyers there,
Man'd by their Clyents: some with ten, some with twenty,
Some fiue, some three; he that had least, had one:
Vpon the stayres they bore them downe afore them:
But such a rattling then was there amongst them
Of rauisht Declarations, Replications,
Reioynders and Petitions; all their bookes
And writings torne and trod on, and some lost,
That the poore Lawyers comming to the Barre,
Could say nought to the matter, but instead,
Were fayne to rayle and talke besides their bookes
Without all order.

Clau.
Fayth, that same vayne of rayling became
Now most applausiue; your best Poet, is
He that rayles grossest.

Dar.
True, and your best foole
Is your broad rayling foole.

Val.
And why not, sir?
For by the gods, to tell the naked trueth,


What obiects see men in this world, but such
As would yeeld matter to a rayling humour:
When he that last yere carryed after one
An empty Buckram bag, now fills a Coach,
And crowds the Senate with such troops of Clyents,
And seruile followers, as would put a mad spleene
Into a Pigeon.

Dar.
Come, pray leaue these crosse capers,
Let's make some better vse of precious time.
See, here's Cornelio: come, Lad, shall we to dice?

Cor.
Any thing I.

Clau.
Well sayd, how does thy wife?

Cor.
In health, God saue her.

Val.
But where is she, man?

Cor.
Abroad about her businesse.

Val.
Why, not at home?
Foot, my masters, take her to the Court,
And this rare Lad her husband: and doest heare?
Play me no more the miserable Farmer,
But be aduisde by friends, sell all ith countrey,
Be a flat Courtier, follow some great man,
Or bring thy wife there, and sheele make thee great.

Cor.
What, to the Court? then take me for a Gull.

Val.
Nay, neuer shun it to be cald a Gull:
For I see all the world is but a Gull:
One man Gull to another in all kinds:
A Marchant to a Courtyer is a Gull:
A Clyent to a Lawyer is a Gull:
A marryed man to a Bacheler, a Gull:
A Bacheler to a Cuckold is a Gull:
All to a Poet, or a Poet to himselfe.

Cor.
Hark Dariotto, shall we gull this Guller?

Dar.
He gulls his father, man, we cannot gull him.

Cor.
Let me alone. Of all mens wits aliue,
I most admyre Valerioes, that hath stolne,
By his meere industry, and that by spurts,


Such qualities, as no wit else can match,
With plodding at perfection euery houre;
Which, if his father knew eche gift he has,
Were like enough to make him giue all from him:
I meane besides his dycing and his wenching,
He has stolne languages, th'Italian, Spanish,
And some spice of the French, besides his dauncing,
Singing, playing on choyce Instruments:
These has he got, almost against the hayre.

Clau.
But hast thou stolne all these, Valerio?

Val.
Toyes, toyes, a pox; and yet they be such toyes,
As euery Gentleman would not be without.

Cor.
Vayne glory makes yee iudge on lyte yfayth.

Dar.
Afore heauen I was much deceyu'd in him:
But hee's the man indeed that hides his gifts,
And sets them not to sale in euery presence.
I would haue sworne, his soule were far from musike;
And that all his choyce musike was to heare
His fat beastes bellow.

Cor.
Sir, your ignorance
Shall estsoone be confuted. Prythee Val,
Take thy Theorbo for my sake a little.

Val.
By heauen, this moneth I toucht not a Theorbo.

Cor.
Toucht a Theorbo? marke the very word,
Sirra, goe fetch.

Exit Page.
Val.
If you will haue it, I must needs confesse,
I am no husband of my qualityes.

He vntrusses and capers.
Cor.
See what a Caper there was!

Clau.
See agayne.

Cor.
The best that euer; and how it becomes him!

Dar.
O that his father saw these qualityes!

Enter a Page with an Instrument.
Cor.
Nay, that's the very wonder of his wit,
To carry all without his fathers knowledge.

Dar.
Why, we might tell him now.



Cor.
No but we could not,
Although we think we could: his wit doth charme vs.
Come sweet Val, touch and sing.

Dar.
Foote, will you heare
The worst voyce in Italy?

Enter Rinaldo.
Cor.
O God, sir. He sings.
Courtiers, how like you this?


Dar.
Beleeue it excellent.

Cor.
Is it not naturall?

Val.
If my father heard me,
Foot, hee'd renounce me for his naturall sonne.

Dar.
By heauen, Valerio, and I were thy father,
And lou'd good qualities as I doe my life,
Ide disinherit thee: for I neuer heard
Dog howle with worse grace.

Cor.
Go to, Signeur Courtier,
You deale not courtly now to be so playne,
Nor nobly, to discourage a young Gentleman,
In vertuous qualityes, that has but stolne vm.

Clau.
Call you this touching a Theorbo? Omn. ha, ha, ha.

Exeunt all but Val. and Rin.
Val.
How now, what's heere?

Rin.
Zoones, a plot layd to gull thee.
Could thy wit thinke the voyce was worth the hearing?
This was the Courtiers and the Cuckolds proiect.

Val.

And ist eene so? tis very well, mast Courtier, & Dan
Cornuto, ile cry quit with both: And first, ile cast a iarre
betwixt them both, with firing the poore cuckolds ielousy.
I haue a tale will make him madde,

And turne his wife diuorced loose amongst vs.
But first let's home, and entertayne my wife.
O father, pardon, I was borne to gull thee.

Exeunt.
Finis Actus secundi.