 | Monsieur D'Olive |  |
ACTVS TERTII.
Sæna prima.
Enter Uandome, and St. Anne.St. Anne.
You haue enclinde me more to leaue this life,
Then I supposde it possible for an Angell;
Nor is your iudgement to suppresse your passion:
For so deare lou'd a Sister (being as well
Your blood and flesh, as mine) the least enforcement
Of your disswasiue arguments. And besides,
Your true resemblance of her, much supplies
Her want in my affections; with all which,
I feele in these deepe griefes, to which I yeeld
A kind of falce sluggish (and rotting sweetnes,)
Lie drownd in sower, wretched, and horred thoughts:
The way to cowardly desperation opened,
And whatsoeuer vrgeth soules accurst.
To their destruction, and sometimes their plague,
So violently gripes me, that I lie
Whole dayes and nightes bound at his tirranous feete:
So that my dayes are not like life or light,
But bitterest death, and a continuall night.
Uand.
The ground of all is vnsuffised Loue,
Which would be best easd with some other obiect:
The generall rule of Naso being autentique
Quod successore nouo vincitur omnis Amor:
For the affections of the minde drawne foorth
In many currents, are not so impulsiue
In anie one; And so the Persian King
Made the great Riuer Ganges runn distinctly
In an innumerable sort of Channels;
By which meanes, of a fierce and dangerous Flood,
He turnd it into many pleasing Riuers:
So likewise is an Armie disarayd,
Made penetrable for the assaulting foe:
So huge Fiers being deffused, grow asswadgd:
Lastly, as all force being vnite, increaseth;
So being dispearst, it growes lesse sharpe, and ceaseth.
S. Anne.
Ahlas, I know I cannot loue another,
My hart accustomd to loue onely her,
My eyes accustomd to view onely her,
Will tell me whatsoeuer is not her, is foule and hatefull.
Uand.
Yet forbeare to keepe her
Still in your sight: force not her breathles body
Thus against Nature to suruiue, being dead:
Let it consume, that it, may reassume
A forme incorruptible; and refraine
The places where you vsde to ioy in her:
Heu fuge dilectas terras, fuge littus Amatum:
For how can you be euer sound or safe,
Where in so many red steps of your wounds,
Like sicke men mending, you shall find recure.
Enter the Duke, D'oliue, Gueaquin, Ieronime, Muge, Rhod. to see the dead Countesse that is kept in her attire vnburied.
D'ol.
Fayth Madam, my companie may well be spard at so
mournefull a visitation: For, by my soule, to see Pigmalion dote
vpon a Marble Picture, a senceles Statue, I should laugh and
spoyle the Tragedie.
Gur.
Oh, tis an obiect full of pittie my Lord.
D'ol.
Tis pittie in deed, that any man should loue a woman
so constantly.
Duke.
Bitterly turnd my Lord: we must still admire you.
D'ol.
Tush my Lord, true Manhood can neither mourne nor
admire: It's fitt for Women, they can weepe at pleasure, euen
to admiration.
Gur.
But men vse to admire rare things, my Lord,
D'ol.
But this is nothing rare; Tis a vertue common for men
to loue their Wiues after death: The value of a good Wife (is
all good things else) are better knowne by their want, then by
their fruition: for no man loues his Wife so well while she liues,
but he loues her ten times better when shee's dead.
Rho.
This is sound Philosophie, my Lord.
D'ol.
Faith, my Lord, I speake my thoughts; and for mine
owne part, I should so ill indure the losse of a Wife (alwayes
prouided, I lou'd her) that if I lost her this weeke, I'de haue another
by the beginning a'th next: And thus resolu'd, I leaue
your Highnes to deale with Atropos, for cutting my Ladyes
threed: I am for France; all my care is for Followers to Impout
my Traine: I feare I must come to your Grace for a Presse; for
I will be followd as becomes an honorable Lord: and that is,
like an honest Squire: for with our great Lords, followers abrod,
and Hospitalitie at home, are out of date: The world's now
growne thriftie: He that fils a whole Page in folio, with his
Stile; thinkes it veriest Noble, to be mand with one bare Page
and a Pandare; and yet Pandare in auntient time, was the name
of an honest Courtier; what tis now, Viderit vtilitas: Come
Witts, let's to my Chamber.
Exeunt. Manent Vando, S. An.
Well now my Lord, remember all the reasons
And arguments I vsde at first to you,
To draw you from your hurtfull passions:
And therewithall; admit one further cause,
Drawne from my loue, and all the powers I haue;
Euryone, vow'd sister to my sister,
Whose vertues, beauties, and perfections,
Adorne our Countrie, and do neerest match
With her rich graces, that your loue adores,
Hath wounded my affections; and to her
I would intreat your Lordships gracefull word:
S. Anne.
But is it true? Loues my deare brother now?
It much delights me, for your choyce is Noble:
Yet need you not vrge me to come abrode,
Your owne worth will suffize for your wisht speed.
Uand.
I know my Lord, no man aliue can winn
Her resolu'd iudgment from virginitie,
Vnlesse you speake for him, whose word of all Dames
Is held most sweet, and worthie to perswade them.
S. Anne.
The world will thinke mee too phantasticall,
To ope so sodenly my vow'd obscurenes.
Uand.
My Lord, my loue is suddaine, and requires
A suddaine remedie: If I be delayed,
Consider Loues delay breedes desperation,
By waighing how strongly Loue workes in your selfe.
S. Anne.
Deare Brother, nothing vnderneath the Starres,
Makes mee so willing to pertake the ayre,
And vndergo the burden of the world,
As your most worthy selfe, and your wisht good:
And glad I am that by this meanes I may
See your descent continued, and therein
Behold some new borne Image of my wife:
Deare life, take knowledge that thy Brothers loue,
Makes me dispaire with my true zeale to thee:
And if for his sake I admit the Earth
To hide this treasure of thy pretious beauties;
And that thy part suruiuing, be not pleasd,
Let it appeare to mee ye iust assisters
And I will follow it into the Graue,
Or dying with it; or preserue it thus,
As long as any life is left betwixt vs.
Exeunt.
Enter Monseuer, D'oliue, Rhoderique.
D'ol.
But didst note what a presence I came of with-all?
Rho.
Sfoot, you drew the eyes of the whole presence vpon you:
There was one Ladie a man might see her hart
Readie to start out of her eyes to follow you.
D'ol.
But Monseuer Mustapha there kept state,
When I accosted him; s'light the Brasen head lookt to be
Worshipt I thinke: No Ile commit no Idolatrie for the proudest Image of'am all, I.
Rho.
Your Lordship has the right garbe of an excellent
Courtier, respects a Clowne, supple ioynted, courtesies a verie
peagoose; tis staffe ham'd audacity that carries it; get once within
their distance, and you are in their bosoms instantly.
D'ol.
S'hart doe they looke? I should stande aloofe, like a
Scholares, & make leggs at their greatnes: No Ile none of that;
come vp close to him, giue him a clap a'th shoulder shall make
him crie oh againe: it's a tender place to deale withal, and say,
Well encounterd noble Brutus.
Rho.
Thats the onely way indeed to be familiar.
D'ol.
S'foot Ile make leggs to none, vnlesse it be to a Iustice
of peace when he speakes in's Chaire, or to a Cunstable when
he leanes on's Staffe, thats flat: softnes and modestie sauors of
the Cart, tis boldnes boldnes does the deed in the Court: and as
your Camelion varries all cullours a'th Rainebow both white
and red, so must your true Courtier be able to varrie his countenance
through all humors; State, Strangnes, Scorne, Mirth,
Melanchollie, Flatterie, and so foorth: some cullours likewise
his face may change vpon occasion, Blacke or Blew it may,
Tawnie it may: but Redd and White at no hand, auoyde that
like a Sergeant: keepe your cullour staffe, vnguiltie of passion or
disgrace, not changing White at sight of your Mercer, nor Red
at sight of your Surgeon: aboue all sinnes, heauen sheild mee
from the sinne of blushing; it does ill in a young Waighting-woman,
Rho.
Well, all this while your Lordship forgets your Ambassage;
you haue giuen our, you will be gone within this moneth,
and yet nothing is readie.
D'ol.
Its no matter, let the Moone keepe her course: and yet
to say trueth, t'were more then time I were gone, for by heauen
I am so haunted with Followers, euerie day new offers of Followers:
But heauen shield me from any more Followers.
How now, whats the newes?
Enter Muge, and two others.
Mug.
My Lord, heere's two of my speciall Friends, whom I
would gladly commend to follow you in the honorable action.
D'ol.
S'foote, my eares are double lockt against Followers,
you know my number's full, all places vnder mee are bestowde:
Ile out of towne this night that's infallible; Ile no more Followers,
a mine honour.
Mug.
S'light Lord, you must entertaine them, they haue paid
me my income, and I haue vndertaken your Lordshippe shall
grace them.
D'ol.
Well my Maisters, you might haue come at a time
when your entertainement would haue proou'd better then
now it is like: but such as it is, vpon the commendation of my
Steward here
Mug.
A pox a your Lor, Steward?
D'ol.
Y'are welcome in a word: deserne and spie out.
Ambo.
Wee humbly thanke your Lordship.
D'ol.
Mugeron, let'am be enterd.
Mug.
In what rancke my Lord, Gentlemen or Yomen?
D'ol.
Gentlemen, Their bearing berayes no lesse, it goes not
alwayes by apparrell: I do alow you to suite your selues anew
in my Cullours at your owne charges.
Amb.
Thanke your good Lordship.
D'ol.
Thy name first, I pray thee?
Cor.
Cornelius, My Lord.
D'ol.
What profession:
A Surgeon an't please your Lordship.
D'ol.
I had rather th'hadst been a Barber, for I thinke there
wilbe little blood-shed amongst my Followers, vnlesse it be of
thy letting: Ile see their nailes parde before they goe. And yet
now I bethinke my selfe, our Ambassage is into Fraunce, there
may be employment for thee: hast thou a Tubbe?
Cor.
I would be loth, my Lord, to be dislocated or vnfurnisht
of any of my properties.
D'ol.
Thou speak'st like thy selfe Cornelius: booke him
downe Gentleman.
Mug.
Verie well Sir.
D'ol.
Now your profession, I pray?
Frip.
Fripperie, my Lord, or as some tearme it, Petty Prokery.
D'ol.
An honest man Ile warrant thee, I neuer knew other of
thy trade.
Frip.
Trulie a richer your Lordship might haue,
An honester I hope not.
D'ol.
I beleeue thee Pettie Broker: canst burne Gold-lace?
Frip.
I can do anie thing, my Lord, belonging to my trade.
D'ol.
Booke him downe Gentleman, heele do good vpon
the voyage I warrant him: prouide thee a Nagge Pettie Broker,
thou'l finde employment for him doubt not: keepe thy
selfe an honest man, and by our returne I doe not doubt but to
see thee a rich Knaue: Farewel Pettie Broker, prepare your selues
against the day; this Gentleman shall acquaint you with my
Cullours: Farewell Fripper, Farewell Pettie Broker: Deserne
and spieout an't is my Motto.
Exeunt.
Amb.
God continue your Lordship.
Rho.
A verie seasonable praier,
For vnknowne to him, it lies now vpon his death-bedd.
D'ol.
And how like you my Chamber good-Witts?
Rho.
Excellent well Sir.
D'ol.
Nay beleeue it, it shall do well (as you will say) when
you see't set foorth sutable to my proiect:
Heere shall stand my Court Cupbord, with furniture of Plate:
Heere shall runne a Wind Instrument: Heere shall hang my
base Viall: Heere my Theorbo: and heere will I hang my
selfe.
Twill do admirable well.
D'ol.
But how will I hange my selfe good witts?
Not in person, but in Picture; I will be drawne.
Rho.
What hangd and drawne too?
D'ol.
Good againe: I say I wilbe drawne, all in compleat
Satten of some Gourtly cullour, like a Knight of Cupids band:
On this side shalbe ranckt Chaires and Stooles, and other such
complements of a Chamber: This corner will be a conuenient
roome for my Close stoole: I acquaint you with all my priuities,
you see.
Mug.
I Sir, we smell your meaning.
D'ol.
Heere shalbe a Peartch for my Parrat, while I remaine
vnmarried, I shall haue the lesse misse of my Wife: Heere a
Hoope for my Munckie when I am married, my wife will haue
the lesse misse of mee: Heere will I haue the statue of some excellent
Poet, and I will haue his Nose goe with a Vice (as I
haue seene the experience) And that (as if t'had taken cold i'th
head,)
Rho.
For want of a guilt Nightcap.
D'ol.
Bitter still, shall like a Spout runne pure Witt all day
long; and it shalbe fedd with a Pipe brought at my charge, from
Helicon, ouer the Alpes, and vnder the Sea by the braine of some
great Enginer; and I thinke twill do excellent.
Mug.
No question of that, my Lord.
D'ol.
Well, now Witts about your seueral charges touching
my Ambassage: Rhoderique, is my Speach put out to making?
Rho.
Its almost done.
D'ol.
Tis well, tell him he shall haue fourtie Crownes; promisse,
promisse; want for no promising: And well remembred,
haue I ere a Gentleman Vsher yet; a strange thing, amongst
all my followers, not one has witt enough to be a Gentleman
Vsher, I must haue one ther's no remedie; Fare-well: haue a
care of my Followers, all but my pettie Broker, heele shift for
him selfe.
Rho.
Well, let vs alone for your followers.
Exeunt. Manet D'oliue.
D'ol.
Well said, deserne and spie out
Amb.
Me thanke your Lordship.
D'ol.
Heauen I beseech thee, what an abhominable sort of
with my countenaunce: I can not looke into the Cittie, but
one or other makes tender of his good partes to me, either his
Language, his Trauaile, his Intelligence, or something: Gentlemen
send me their younger Sonnes furnisht in compleat, to
learne fashions for-sooth; as if the riding of fiue hundred miles,
& spending 1000. Crownes would make'am wiser then God
meant to make'am. Others with-child with the trauailing humor,
as if an Asse for going to Paris, could come home a Courser
of Naples: Others are possest with the humor of Gallantrie,
fancie it to be the onelie happinesse in this world, to be enabled
by such a coolor to carrie a Feather in his Crest, weare Goldlace,
guilt Spurs, & so sets his fortunes ont: Turnes two or three
Tenements into Trunckes, and creepes home againe with lesse
then a Snayle, not a House to hide his head in: Three hundred
of these Gold-finches I haue entertaind for my Followers; I
can go in no corner, but I meete with some of my Wifflers in
their accoutraments; you may heare'am halfe a mile ere they
come at you, and smell'am halfe an hower after they are past
you; sixe or seauen make a perfect Morrice-daunce; they need
no Bells, their Spurs serue their turne: I am ashamd to traine'am
abroade, theyle say I carrie a whole Forrest of Feathers
with mee, and I should plod afore'am in plaine stuffe, like a
writing Schole-maister before his Boyes when they goe a feasting:
I am afraid of nothing but I shall be Ballated, I and all
my Wifflers: But its no matter, Ile fashion'am, Ile shew'am
fashions: By heauen Ile gaue three parts of'am the slipp, let'am
looke fort: and yet to say trueth, I shall not need, for if I can
but linger my Iorney another moneth, I am sure I shall mute
halfe my Feathers; I feele'am begin to weare thinne alreadie:
There's not tenne Crownes in twentie a their purses: And by
this light, I was told at Court that my greasie Host of the Porcupine
last Holiday, was got vp to the eares in one of my Followers
Satten suites; And Uandome went so farre, that he
swore he saw two of them hangd: My selfe indeed passing
yesterday by the Fripperie, spide two of them hang out at a
stall with a gambrell thrust from shoulder to shoulder, like a
Pettie Broker followes me; The Vulture smels a pray; not the
Carcases, but the Cases of some of my deceassed Followers;
S'light, I thinke it were my wisest course, to put tenne poundes
in stocke with him, and turne pettie Broker; certainelie there's
good to be done vpon't; if we be but a day or two out of towne
heele be able to load euerie day a fresh Horse with Satten suites,
and send them backe hither: indeed tis like to be hot trauaile,
and therefore t'wilbe an ease to my Followers to haue their
cloathes at home afore'am; Theyle on, get off how they can:
Little know they what Pikes their Feathers must passe: Before
they goe the Sergeants, when they come home the Surgeons:
but chuse them, Ile wash my hands on'am.
Exit.
| Monsieur D'Olive | |