University of Virginia Library

ACTVS SECVNDVS.

Enter M. Puffe with his Page.
Puffe.

Boy whats a Clocke?

Page.

Past three, and a faire morning.

Puffe.

Burnes not that light within the sacred shrine?
I meane the chamber of bright Katherine.

Page.

I, should appeare by these presence, that it doth.

Puffe.

I wonder that the light is vp so soone.

Page.

O Mistresse Snuffe was weary with sleeping in
the Socket, and therefore hath newly put on her stamell
petticoat, & takē her pewter state to giue light to things
are in darknesse.

Puff.

And I know that women of grauitie and sweetnes
are soone vp.

Page.

I see that women of leuitie and lightnesse, are
soone downe.

Puff.
Boy cleare thy throate, and mount thy sweetest notes
Vpon the bosom of this sleeke cheekt aire:
That it may gently breathe them in the eare
Of my adored Mistresse: Come begin.

[Page.]
The Song.
Delicious beautie that doth lie
Wrapt in a skin of Iuorie,
Lie stil, lie stil vpon thy backe,
And Fancy let no sweete dreames Iacke
To tickle her, to tickle her with pleasing thoughts.
But if thy eyes are open full,
Then daine to view an honest gull,
That stands, that stands, expecting still
When that thy Casement open will
And blesse his eyes, & blesse his eyes, with one kind glance.

The Casement opens, and Katherine appeares.
Puf.
All happinesse and vnconceiu'd delight,
Waite on the loue of sweetfac'de Katherine.

Kathe.
Good youth Amen: I do returne your wish
With ample interest of beatitude.

Puf.
I do protest, with ceremonious (puffe)
lippes
The purest blood of my affection,
Is euen fatally predestinate
To consecrate it selfe vnto your (puffe)
loue.

Ka.
Vnto my loue? Oh sir you binde me to you:
Faire Gentleman I haue a thankfull heart,
Tho not a glorious speech to sweet my thankes.

Puf.
Reward my loue then with your kinder loue.

Ka.
With my loue sir, I relish not your speech.

Puf.
I with your loue, in pleasing marriage.

Ka.
Alas sir, cannot be my Loues a man,
Who hardly can requite the deare protests
Of kind affection, which you seeme to vowe
Vnto his fortunes: kind youth, you did wish
All happinesse to wayt vpon my loue:
Well he shall know it when we next do meete,
And thanke you kindly: now good morrow sweete.

Puf.
You take my, my, my meaning (puffe.)


Page.
Nay if he be puffing once, the fire of his wit is out.

Puf.
Why she is gone. Hart did I rise for this?

Pa.
She cannot endure puffing. O you puft her away

Puf.
Lets slink along vnseen, tis yet scarse day.

Exeunt.
Enter Mamon with Flawne, bearing a light before Mamon.
Flawn.
Now me thinks I hold the candle to the diuel.

Mam.
Put out the light, the day begins to breake.

Flawn.
Would the day and thy neck were broke togither.

Mam.
Oh how the gout and loue do tyre me.

Flawne.
Why sir, loue is nothing but the very gout.

Mam.
As how Flawne? as how?

Flawne.

Thus sir: Gout and loue, both come with
Idlenesse, both incurable, both humorous, onely this
difference: the Gout causeth a great tumor in a mans
legges, and loue a great swelling in a womans belly.

Mam.

Why then ô Loue, ô Gout, ô goutie Loue,
how thou torments olde Mamon: good morrow to the

sweet lipt Katherine, eternall spring vnto thy beauties
loue.

Ka.
Alas good aged Sir, what make you vp?
In faith I pittie you, good soule to bed,
Troth soone youle crie, Oh God my head, my head.

Mam.
No Katherine, the wrinckling print of time
Err'd, when it seald my forehead vp with age:
I haue as warme an arme to entertaine
And hugge thy presence in a nuptiall bed,
As those that haue a cheek more liuely red:
And tho my voice be rude, yet Flawne can sing
Peans of beautie, and of Katherine.
List to the Musicke that corrupts the Goddes.
Subuerts euen Desteny, and thus it shogges.
The Song.

Ka.
Tis wel sung good old man, hence with your gold,
Leaue the green fields tis deawy; youle take cold.

Mam.
The Casements shut, wel here Ile linke & stay,
To see who beares the glorie of the day.
Hence, hence, to London, Flawne let me alone.

Flawne.

I can hardly leaue him alone, for the Diuell
and double Duckats, still associate him, but I am gone.

Exit.
Enter Pasquill.
Pasquil.
The glooming morne with shining Armes hath chaste
The siluer Ensign of the grim cheekt night,
And forc'd the sacred troupes of sparkling starres
Into their priuate Tents, yet calme husht sleepe
Strikes dumbe the snoring world: yet frolick youth
Thats lately matcht vnto a well shapte Lasse,
Clippes his sweet Mistresse, with a pleasing arme,
Whilst the great power of Imperious Loue
Sommons my dutie to salute the shine
Of my Loues beauties. Vnequald Katherine
I bring no Musick to prepare thy thoughts
To entertaine an amorous discourse:
More Musick's in thy name, and sweet dispose,
Then in Apollos Lyre, or Orpheus close.
I'le chaunt thy name, and so inchaunt each eare,
That Katherinas happie name shall heare.
My Katherine, my life, my Katherine.

Kathe.
My Ned, my Pasquil, sweet I come, I come,
Euen with like swiftnes, tho not with like heart:
As the fierce Fawcon stoupes to rysing fowle
I hurrey to thee: do not goe away,
The place is priuate, and tis yet scarce day.

Pas.
Oh these kind words imparadize my thoughts.

Ma.
Ha, ha, yong Pasquil, haue I found you out
Ist you must bore my nose, Ile bore your heart:
Why this same boy's as bare as naked Truthe.
A lowe ebd gallant, yet sheele match with him:
Ile match him, if his skin be ponyard proofe.
He may scape the force of gold and murder, if not,
As you returne sir, I will pepper you.
Exit.
Enter Katherine to Pasquill.
And art thou come deare hart, first fee be this,
This kinde imbrace, and next this modest kis.

Pas.
This is no kisse, but an Ambrosian bowle,
The Nectar deaw of thy delicious sowle:
Let me sucke one kisse more, and with a nimble lip,
Nibble vpon those Rosie bankes, more soft and cleare
Then is the Ieweld tip of Venus eare.
Oh how a kisse inflames a Louers thought,
With such a fewell let me burne and die,
And like to Hercules so mount the skie.

Ka.
Come you grow wanton. Oh you bite my lip.

Pas.
In faith you Iest, I did but softly sip
The Roseall Iuice of your reuiuing breath:
Let clumsie iudgements, chilblaind gowtie wits
Bung vp their chiefe content within the whoopes
Of a stuft dry Fatt: and repose their hopes
Of happinesse, and hearts tranquilitie,
Vpon increase of durt: but let me liue
Clipt in the cincture of a faithfull arme,
Luld in contented ioy, being made diuine,
With the most precious loue of Katherine.

Ka.
Let the vnsanctified spirit of ambition
Entice the choyse of muddy minded Dames
To yoke themselues to swine, and for vaine hope
Of gay rich trappings, be still spurd and prickt
With pining discontent for nuptiall sweetes.
But let me liue lou'd in my husbands eies,
Whose thoughts with mine, may sweetly simpathize.

Pas.
The heauens shall melt, the sun shall cease to shine,
Before I leaue the loue of Katherine.

Kathe.
Nay when heauens melted, & the sun strooke dead,
Euen then my loue shall not be vanquished.

Pas.
When I turne fickle, vertue shall be vice.

Ka.
When I proue false, Hell shall be Paradice.

Pas.
My life shall be maintaind by thy kind breath.

Ka.
Thy loue shall be my life, thy hate my death.

Pas.
Oh when I die let me imbrace thy waste.

Ka.
In death let me be counted thine and chaste.

Pas.
Heauens graunt, being dead my soule may liue nie thee

Ka.
One kisse shal giue thee mine eternally.

Pas.
In faire exchaunge vouchsafe my hart to take.

Ka.
With all my mind, weare this Ned for my sake,
But now no more, bright day malings our loue,
Farewell, yet stay, but tis no matter too,
My Father knowes I thinke, what must ensue.
Adieu, yet harke, nay faith, adieu, adiew.

Pas.
Peace to thy passions, till next enterview.

Exeunt.
Enter Mamon, and Mounsier Iohn fo de King.
Mam.
Now Mounsieur be but confident, and hold
There is the price of blood, this way he comes,
Strike home bold arme, and thou shalt want no crowns.

Moun.
Feare you noting, when he is die, me bring you word.
Exit Mamon.
Hee, by gor braue crowne, braue monney,
Me haue here a patent to take vp, one, two, treescore
Vench: fine Crowne, fine vench, vnreasonably fine,
Dis monney is my baude. Me send a French crowne
To fetch a fine vench, de French crowne fetch de
Fine vench, de fine vench take de French crowne,
And giue me de French poc. Hee excellent, you see
Mee kill a man, you see mee hang like de Burgullian,
Hee no poine: Hee by Gor, mee haue much vitt,
Ang me much bald, and me ang much bald wit.
Here come de Gentleman metre Pasquill.

Enter Pasquill.
Pasquill.
Ist possible that sisters should so thwart
In natiue humours? one's as kind and fayre,
As constant, vertuous, and as debonayre,
As is the heart of goodnesse: the other, proud,
Inconstant, fantasticke, and as vaine in loues,
As trauellers in lies: blest Katherine,
Camelia's not thy sister, if she bee,
Shees basterd to the sweetes that shine in thee.

Moun.

Boniour Metre Pasquill, sance Iest, me am hired to
kill you, Mounsieur Mamon, Messier: Iounck, Iounck, giue
me money to stab you, but me know there is a God that
hate bloud, derfore, me no kil, me know dere is a vench,
that loue Crowne, derefore me keepe de money.

Pas.
Vnhallowed villaine, that with gold and bloud,
Thinkes that almighty loue can be withstood.

Hold Mounsieur, there are more Crownes, onely do this,
returne to Mamon, tell him the deed is done, and bring
him hither, that he may vainely triumph in my bloud, I
haue some painting which I found by chaunce in loose
Camelias chamber, with that Ile staine my breast, go and
returne with speed.

Moun.
Hee, by gor I smell a rat, me flie, me flie, by gor.

Exit Mounsieur.
Pas.
Leaud miscreant, that through the throat of hel,
Wouldst mount to heauen, and enioy loue,
Invaluably pretious: no rancke churle,
Thou wast not made to slauer her faire lips
With thy dead rewmy chops, nor clip her waste,
With thy shrunke bloudlesse arme, I heare him come.
Now Pasquill faigne, ô thou eternall light,
Mourne that thy creatures should in bloud delight.

He lies downe, and faines himselfe dead.
Enter Mamon and Mounsieur.
Mam.
Now smug fac'd boy, now nibble on her lips,
Now sippe the deawe of her delitious breath.
Stinke, rot, damne, bake in thy cluttered bloud,
Snakes, Toads, and Earwigs, make thy skull their neast,
Ingendring deaw-wormes, cling orethwart thy breast.

Moun.
Hush, hush, leaue praying for dead, tis no good
Caluianisme, puritanisme. Dissemble, here are company.

Exit Moun.
Enter Bra. Sig. and Planet.
Bra. Sig.
Good morrow Sir, who lies there murdred?

Mam.
Oh Gentlemen, the kindest vertuous youth
That e're adorned London. Damned theeues
To spoile such hopes: the last words that he spake,
Sticks still within the hollow of mine eare.
Katherine quoth he, hold M. Mamon deare,
I know not what he meant, but so he said.
If that you passe to Hygate, tell the Knight,
Pasquill is sunke into eternall night.

Pla.

Faith twas a good youth, come Brabant, come a-
away.

Exeunt Brabant and Planet.
Mam.
Dead Kate, dead Kate, dead is the boy.
That kept rich Mamon from his ioy.

Mamon sings. Lantara, &c. Pasquill riseth, and striketh him.
Mam.

Oh the diuell, the ghost of Pasquill, I am dead,
if you haue any curtesie in you, beleeue it. I beleeu'd you
when you faign'd, beleeue me now, for I am almost
dead, numbd vp with feare, giue faith sweete gentle
youth.

Pas.
Old wretch, amend thy thoughts, purge, purge, repent,
Ile hide thy vlcer, be but penitent.

Exit.
Mam.
Ha, I think twas but his ghost that swept along.

Enter Mounsier singing.

Grand sot Mamō, Pho, phy, phy, phy, a foutra pour vos chūck,
chunck. Iohn fo de King, teach you a ding, Iohn fo de King
graund Sot, Sot, Sot.

Exit Mounsieur.
Ma.
Death, plague, and hell, how is curst Mamō vext?
Scourgde with the whip of sharpe derision:
Ile home, and starue, this crosse, this peeuish hap,
Strikes dead my spirits like a thunderclap.

Exit Mamon.
Enter Brabant Iunior, and Planet.
Bra.
Gods pretious, I forgot to bring my Page,
To breathe some Dittie in my Mistris eare.

Pla.
Wouldst haue a Ballet to salute her with?

Bra.
No, but a Song. How wouldst thou court thy Mistresse?

Pla.
Why with the world, the flesh & the diuel.

Bra.
Right dog, well thoult sweare, that I am blest
Beyond infinitie of happinesse,
When thou beholdest admired Camelia.

Pla.

And God wold blesse me with 3. such mistresses,
I would giue two of them to the diuel, that hee would
take the third.

Bra.
Oh when she clips, and clings about my necke,
And suckes my soule forth with a melting kisse.

Pla.
Doth she vse thee so kindly then, ha?

Bra.
O I, and calls me deare, deare Brabant, and (ô Iesu God)
I cannot expresse her sweets of entertaine,
Sheele so insinuate with chaste amorous speech,
And play the wanton with such pretie grace,
And vowes loue to me: Oh I'le make thee madde
To see how gratious Brabant's in her eye.
Here is her window, marke but when I call,
How swift she comes, and with what kind salutes
She welcomes me. What ho Camelia?
Faith youle be tane vp, what in bed so late?

Winifride lookes from aboue.
Pla.
And you take her vp Brabant, sheele take you downe.

Bra.
Hart they heare not: My Camelia wake?

Wini.
What harsh vnciuil tongue keeps such a coile?

Bra.
Winifride tis I. Tell my sweet Duck I am here,
Now marke Ned Planet, now obserue her well.

Wini.
Shee wonders at your rudenesse that intrudes
Vpon the quiet of her mornings rest,
And shee's amaz'de, that with such impudence
You dare presume to intimate some loue to her,
As if she knew you more then for a youth,
A yonger brother, and a stipendary.

Enter Iohn Ellis.
Pla.
Now mark Ned Planet, now obserue her kindnes.
Good morrow M. Iohn.

Ellis.

As the Countrey mayd crieth to her Cowe to
milke her, or as the Trauailer knocketh with his Hostes
for a reckning, euen so do I call to thee ô Mistris.

Camelia from her window.
Came.
Sweet Iohn my Loue, heer's thy Camelia:
Hold weare this fauour, with this kisse vppont.

Bra.
Flesh and blood cannot beare such disgrace.

Brabant beates Ellis.
El.

Helpe, helpe, helpe, helpe, he boxes mee that hee
doth. Helpe, helpe.

Enter Sir Edward, Katherine, Drum, and Twedle.
Sir Ed.
What outrage haue we here so early vp?
Sir you do wrong the quiet of my house.
Enter Camelia.
Ifaith you do, and tis but rudely done,
Go too tis not. Is this a place to brawle?

Pla.
And please thee knight, I'le tell thee faith & troth.

Cawe.
What did he strike thee sweet?

El.

I in good deed law, and a my conscience, I thinke
he hath made my nose bleede.

Came.

And would not you draw your weapon out,
and to it lustily, as long as you could stand?

El.

I do not vse to drawe.

Ca.

Did he giue thee a box on the eare, and wouldst
thou take it?

El.

And he be such a foole to giue it me, why should
not I be so wise as to take it.

Ca.
Pure honestie, kinde Ducke, kisse me sweet Iohn.

Bra. Iu.
Hart Sir Edward, will you suffer this?
Now on my life she is enamord on the fooles bable.

Sir Ed.
Go too sir boy forbear, you wrong my Loue,
And you forget your selfe to vse such Iests,
Such nastie rybauldry vpon my daughter:
I tell you M. Brabant, doth she loue
Any that meriteth the name of man?

Bra. Iu.
Why hee's no man, but a very—

S. Ed.
Well, well, no more; my house, my self, my loue,
Opens their hearts with liberall imbrace
To entertaine your presence: I or any mans
So they'le be ciuile, modest, not prophane,
Not like to those that make it their chiefe grace,
To be quite graceles.

Pla.
Well said honest knight,
We haue had blood enough to day alreadie:
Ned Pasquil's slaine by bloodie murdering Rogues.

Sir Ed.
Speak softly, God forbid, my daughter heares,
Tell me the circumstance, I pray you Sir.

Ka.
Eternall death vnto my happinesse,
My Pasquil slaine? Oh God, oh God, oh God.

Exit Katherin, tearing her haire.
Pla.
I, and I thinke the Vsurer made a Tent
Euen of his nose it was so red and neere:

Sir Ed.
God for his mercy, what mischance is heere?
A good youth, a vertuous modest youth,
Ifaith he was. And I can tell your sir,
My daughter Katherine, where is she now?
Whithers she gone? Drum call her hither straite.

Drum.
Your Drum wil sound a call sir presently.

Exit Drum.
Sir Ed.
And as I told you sir, my daughter Katherine
Affected him right dearly: by my peace of soule,
If he had liu'd, I could haue hartily wisht
He had bene my sonne in lawe, Ifaith I could:
But see the will of God. How now Drum,
Where's my daughter?

Drum.

Sir, she is either inuisible, or deafe, for I can
neither see her, nor she heare mee.

Sir Ed.
Boddie, of mee, my heart misgiues me now,
Looke, call, search, run all about.
My daughter gone? Go all and search her out.
Heer's Pasquil ha? Is this the man thats dead?

Enter Pasquil.
Pas.
Let me intreat this fauour, do not search
Or be inquisitiue why I fain'de:
Repute me worthie your better censure: and thus think
My cause was vrgent, the rest lie buried.

Sir Ed.
Well, I would you had not fainde.

Pas.
Why would you haue had me dead indeed?

Sir Ed.
Oh no, but I haue lost my child I feare,
By your strange faining, she no sooner heard
Thy tydings of your death, but gone she was,
And God knowes whither. Ha what newes now?

Enter Drum.
Drum.

Tis easier to finde wit in ballating, honestie
in Brokers, Virginitie in Shordich, then to heare of my
Mistresse.

Sir Ed.
Broach me a fresh Butt of Canary Sacke,
Lets sing, drink, sleep, for thats the best reliefe:
To drowne all care, and ouerwhelme all griefe,
Powre Wine, sound Musick, let our bloods not freeze,
Drinke Duch like gallants, lets drinke vpsey freeze.

Exeunt Sir Edward, Planet, Brabant, Drum & Twedle.
Came.
Seruant youle go in too, and stay dinner?

El.
I in truthe, for as the Itch is augmented
By scratching, so is my loue by seeing my mistresse.

Exeunt Camelia and Ellis.
Pas.
How's this, how's this, My Katherin gone hence?
Sences awake, and thou amazed soule
Vnwinde thy selfe from out the Labyrinth
Of gaping wonder, and astonishment.
My Katherine departed? how? which way?
Foole, foole, stand not debating, but pursue
Haste to her comfort, for from thee doth spring
(Wretch that thou art) her cause of sorrowing.

Exit.