 | A Tragedy called All's Lost by Lvst |  |
Actus Primus.
Enter Rodericke, King of Spaine, Lothario, Medina, Iulianus, Antonio, and Lazarello.Rodericke.
Give leave: Lothario.
Aside Lords.
Lo.
My Soveraigne.
Rod.
The newes in briefe: how replyes Iacinta?
Will she be woman? will shee meete our Armes
With an alternate roundure? will she doe?
Lo.
Nothing to the purpose my Liege, cold as Aquarius,
There she was borne, and there she still remaines;
I cannot move her to enter into Pisces, I
Laid the flesh to her too, and the delights thereof, she leaues
Another way, and talkes all of the spirit, I
Frighted her with spirits too, but all would not doe:
She would doe something, but womens tongues are
Sometimes longer then their armes.
Rod.
Enough, we have bethought another way.
This wooing application is too milde:
'Tis better trust the mercy of a storme.
To hast our way, then to be calmd for ever,
Shore of the wished haven:
Now draw neere, you told us of a hot invasion,
The barbarous and tawney Affricans,
Intend upon our confines.
Med.
True, my Liege.
Full threescore thousand are discryde in Armes,
Ready to passe the Streights of Gibbraltar,
Whose watry divisions, their Affricke bounds
From our Christian Europe in Granado,
And Audalusia; they spred and flourish
Their silver moones, led as it is supposde,
By some blinde guide, some Saintish Infidell,
That prophesies subjection of our Spaine,
Vnto the Moores.
Rod.
They would deter us with their swarty lookes:
Were they the same to their similitude,
Sooty as the inhabitants of hell,
Whom they neerest figure, cold feare should flye
From us as distant as they are from beauty:
They come to sacrifice their blouds to us,
If that be red, a mare rubrum,
Wee'le make so high to quench their silver moones,
And on their carkasses an Istmus make
To passe their straytes agen, and forrage there.
Iul.
Your forward valour speakes you maiesticall,
But my dread Liege, does not your treasury
Grow thinne and empty? so long have you held
A champion resolution 'gainst the Turke,
That Spaine is wasted in her noble strength,
On which presuming, tis to be suppos'd
The Moore is thus incourag'd.
And yet we undaunted Iulianus, our treasury is
A myne unsearcht, wee have a Castle
Suppos'd inchanted, wee'le breake the magicke,
If spels there be, ope the forbidden dores
Which twenty of our predecessors have refusde,
But added each a locke to guard it more,
Rather then our Souldiers shall want pay
To fight our battailes nobly.
Iul.
O my Lord, that's a dangerous secret, onely known
To such as can divine futurities,
And they with fearefull prophesies predict
Fatall events to Spaine, when that shall be
Broke up by violence: till fate hath runne
Her owne wasting period; which out slaide
Auspitiously they promise, that wreathes are kept
In the fore-dooming Court of destiny,
To binde us ever in a happy conquest.
Rod.
Tut, feare frights us not, nor shall hope foole us:
If neede provoke, wee'le dig supply through hell
And her enchantments. Who can prefixe us
A time to see these incantations loosde?
Perhaps 'twill stay tenne generations more,
When our bloud royall may want succession,
If not; what bootes it us (lost in our dust
And memory 500. yeeres) that then this hidden
Worke shall be, tush, the weakenesse of our predecessors
Shall not fright us, all is not deadly,
That lookes dangerous.
Ant.
I wish no life to see that day.
Med.
Nor I, so many Kings have fear'd that destiny.
Rod.
Lord Iulianus, we commit to you
The charge of this great worke against the Moores,
With title of Lord Generall, as you please,
Order this high affaire; call to the field
An equall Army against those Affricans,
The bold and hardiest souldiers of our kingdome.
Scourge backe agen those halfe-nak't Infidels
Into their sun-burnt Clymate; in thy heart
With christian valour strike the heathens dead,
And for thy triumph, bring the Mulyes head.
Iul.
This honour which your Maiestie has given me,
Tho better it might fit anothers wearing,
Of abler limbs, where time has not defac't,
Nor halfe so many winters quencht his bloud,
As a new spring it hath revivde agen
This Autumne of my yeeres; there's but one care
I leave behinde me within the Court of Spaine,
My poore Iacinta, mine, and onely mine;
May she here thrive in honour, and in favours,
And I shall meete her with a victory,
(Heaven put before) as shall endow us both
In your high esteeme.
Rod.
That shall be our care noble Iulianus, to see her safe,
We love Iacinta more then you must know,
And for her sake we doe remove you hence;
You may thanke your daughter for this honour Sir,
If you knew our purpose.
Lo.
I understand all this, whilst he warres abroad, his
Daughter must skirmish at home; Venus is in conjunction
With Mercury, wit and lechery are both in labour
At once, alas poore mayden-head, th'art cast i'faith,
And must to execution; virginity hadst thou bin
Moulded in my compasse, thou hadst scap't this pitfall.
Rod.
On, to thy charge, prosper in thy high deedes;
Who aymes at honour nobly, nobly speedes.
Iul.
My heart and tongue, thus sentence to my fate,
In honour thrive, in basenesse ruinate.
Rod.
All helpe him on his speede: Lothario.
Exeunt omnes nisi Rod. & Loth.
Have we not finely moulded our designe?
Times antient bawde, opportunity attends us now,
And yet our flaming bloud will scarce give leave
To opportunity.
Lo.
I told your highnesse of a second bawd to time, & yet
Not times second neither, for time nere pattern'd her
Is, but a speaking thing, and one that speakes
Effectually; one that has wrackt more mayden-heads
In Spaine, then she has yeers upon her reverent browes,
And yet she writes odde of threescore, an odde wench 'tis.
Rod.
Thou nam'st her to me.
Lo.
Malena.
Rod.
And hast instructed her?
Lo.
I have prepar'd her fit for instruction my Liege; shee
Waites her further confirmation from your Highnesse:
Oh every souldier has a double heart, when the King's in field.
Rod.
Call her
Lo.
By her right name; bawd, where art thou bawd?
Rod.
If Words will serve, if not, by rapines force;
Wee'le plucke this apple from th'Hesperides.
Enter Malena.
Lo.
This is the thing I told your Highnesse of.
Rod.
A reverent one it is, & may be cal'd schoolemistresse
of her sexe; if Apelles had ever picturde forth experience,
here might he take his patterne.
Mal.
Indeed my Liege, I have bin the pattern that a great
Many has taken out pictures by, I confesse I have
Bin a greater friend to the Hospitals, then the Nunneries,
And I thinke it was the greater charity, because
They are the poorer, and more wretched places.
Lo.
The very ipsissima of her sexe, my Liege, as old as
She is, I will undertake she shall wrastle a fall
With the strongest Virgin in Spaine, & throw her down too.
Rod.
Thou must be my Lawyer (I'le fee thee well,)
And at the Barre of beauty plead a cause,
Which whether right or wrong, must needs be mine.
Mal.
Indeed in rightfull causes, weake Lawyers will
Serve turne, but the wrong had need have
The best Orators; I'me but a weake vessell, you
Know my Liege.
Lo.
Shee'le hold out I warrant, harke you my Liege;
There's mettall in her, there's sacke in this Tunne,
That has eaten up a great deale of dead
Flesh in her time, lights, longs and bad livers.
Rod.
Come, come, you must not plead an insufficiency.
Mal.
I'le doe my best my Lord.
Lo.
Tush, in malo consilio fœminæ vincunt viros.
Mal.
Does he not abuse me my Liege?
Rod.
Not at all, he sayes women overcome men in
Giving counsell.
Mal.
Is there not a faulty word amongst them?
Lo.
Thou art able to corrupt any good sence, with bad construction:
I say fœminæ vincunt, that is, quasi vincere cunctos,
Ouercomes all men.
Mal.
Go to, go to, there is a broad word amongst'm, vincunt
Quotha, is it spoke with a K, or a C? but in plaine
Language I will doe my best, if she be of my sexe, I
Will shew her the end of her function, men follow
The traditions of their forefathers, so should
Women follow the trades of their fore-mothers.
Rod.
I see thou hast perswasive oratory.
Here's iuyce of liquorish, good for thy voyce,
Speake freely, and effectually.
Mal.
I will speake the words that have o'rethrowne a
Hundred in my time.
Lo.
I was within compass then.
Mal.
Let me have accesse to her, if she be flesh & bloud,
I'le move her, I will not leave her till I turne her to a stone.
Rod.
Vnite your forces both, conquer in love,
I will reward as for a victory
Purchac't with bloud from my worst enemy:
Effect, for ill things have their effects we see
Prosper, wee'le call it a prosperity:
Exit.
Mal.
You'le bring me to the place and party?
Lo.
Prepar'd with all advantage. I will assist thee, thou
Destroyer of mayden-heads.
Exeunt.
Laz.
Your passions erre my Lord, did you foresee
What may ensue; folly begets danger,
Nay oft, their full effects, destruction;
You would not clothe the noblenesse of your bloud
In such base weedes, shee's a beggar you doate on.
Ant.
Th'ast spoke the worst thy malice can invent,
A beggar say'st? and better being so,
If a small Starre could overshine the Sunne,
And shew his brightnesse in the solsticie,
Should it be blam'd or prais'd? the feeble Vine
Brings forth sweet fruits, whilst the Cedars's barren;
Beggar is she, I'le poyse her graces with't,
And see how many infinites shee'le pull
The ballance downe, and yet that poverty
A goodnesse dis-esteem'd; shee's faire,
Modest, lovely, wise, vertuous.
Laz.
Nay, if you doate, I'le waste no more good counsell,
And what's her dower Sir?
Ant.
Infinites, I nam'd them to thee.
Laz.
O shee's faire, a faire dowry.
Ant.
Chast and vertuous.
Laz.
Those are iewels indeed, but they'le yeeld little.
Ant.
They are not things of prise, they are farre off,
And deare, yet Ladies send not for 'em.
Laz.
May not a league be taken for a time?
Deferre this hasty match, you have employment
As a Souldier, the King has given you charge,
Approve your champion valour in the field,
If that remoue not this domesticke trouble,
Retire upon your Uenus.
Ant.
I'le prevent that venome,
This night I will be married to my sweet,
And then her memory enjoy'd, shall strengthen
Mine arme against my foe, which else would droope,
Suspecting of her losse, I feare it now;
In the inchanted prison of her eyes.
Laz.
Why you'le be jealous in your absence then?
Ant.
Away, away, thou dost forget her vertues
Faster then I can name 'em; shee's chastity
It selfe, and when a Shrine shall be set up
Vnto that Saint, it shall be built upon
The marble that shall cover her.
Enter Iulianus and Iacinta.
Laz.
Here comes the Generall.
Iul.
No more, no more, thy feares are all follies, my Iacinta
Iac.
I must not leave you thus.
Iul.
Antonio? what unplum'd? you are a Souldier Sir,
And Souldiers should be forward; looke yee
I have bright steele for the blacke Affricans;
I tell you Sir, I went not with more ioy
Vnto my mayden Bride, that Hymen night,
From whence I fetcht this iewell of my heart,
Then now I doe unto my second nuptials.
Oh 'tis a gallant Mistresse, an old man
Is young agen at sight of her.
Ant.
Worthy Sir, your leading vallor wil centuple the harts
Of all your followers; when set you forward?
Iul.
Tush, we limit time to her best haste,
Three dayes will be the most, the longer stay
Looses the more advantage.
Ant.
We shall be ready to attend your honour,
Hymen, this night I vow to thee, Mars be my
Morrowes Saint.
Laz.
Here were a Saint fitting your orisons.
Ant.
Blasphemy, speake that no more, the begger,
(If you will so prophane to speake her so)
Is gold refinde, compar'd unto this rubbish,
Diamond to Marble; my noble Lord
Wee'le leave you to hasten our attendance on you.
Exit Ant. & Lazar.
Farewell Antonio,
I'me in haste too, my preparations call me.
Iac.
I call too, I beseech you heare me.
Iul.
Th'art a clog to me,
Me thinkes thou shouldst be reading o're new fashions,
Conferring with your Tire-woman for faire dressings,
Your Ieweller has new devices for yee,
Fine labels for your eares, bracelets for wrists,
Such as will illustrate your white hand;
These are all Pedlars ware to me, Iacinta;
I am for Corslets, Helmets, Bils, Bowes, and Pikes,
The thundring Guns, Trumpets tan tara,
The ratling sheepeskin, and the whistling Fife:
What Musicke's this to your eares? ha, farewell,
Farewell, and heaven blesse thee.
Iac.
Good heaven, how slightly
You o're-run my feares, you goe to meete
With a full power, an armed foe abroad,
And leave me single to an enemy
That hath both power and will to ruine me.
Iul.
'Tis treason that thou speak'st, and by the Saint
Of Spaine, mend it, or I'le discover thee:
Wrong my dread Liege, my King, my Soveraigne,
To say that he should doate upon your face,
Away, away, 'tis but your beauties pride,
So to belye it selfe thou art not faire,
Thou hast no eye to attract Maiestie,
To looke upon't; say he speake love to thee,
'Twas but to try thee, perhaps 'twas my consent,
Will you enquire the hidden hearts of Kings?
He would not wrong thee for his kingdomes wealth,
Even for my sake, away you wanton foole.
Iac.
There has bin ravishers, remember Tarquin.
Iul.
There has bin chast Ladies, remember Lucres:
I'le heare no more, my time and haste hath bard me,
My blessing take, heaven and that shall guard thee.
Exit.
Iac.
You leave me in a tempest, heaven guide my fate,
Oh let me sinke ere I be captivate.
Exit.
Ped.
I doe not like this match, this gay out-side
Is cloth of gold, within a ragged lining.
Iaq.
O poore comparison father, doe they use to line
cloth of gold with cloth of gold; no, but with fine, gentle,
and easie linings, and such my sister may be, for tho I say
it that should not say it, my sister has a good face, a white
necke, and a dainty hand, and that may serve for lining
for the best cloth of gold in all Spaine.
Ped.
Cedars and shrubs cannot grow up together.
Iaq.
Away, away, speake not so like a Wood monger, I'le
Put you downe with a caparison now, doe we not use
To graft sweet apples upon crab-tree stocks, doe we
Not use to enoculate your Malicatoon upon a Gooseberry?
Such is my sisters case now, say that the noble man
Would enoculate his Lordship upon my sisters yeomandry,
What hurt were in this? would it grieve you to be a
Lords brother, or this old woman to have her Lady
Daughter to aske, Gradam, how doe you, will you ride
Abroad in your Croatch, or your embroderd side-saddle?
Cla.
I, thou talk'st wildly boy, yet err'st not much
In my conceit, be content man, and adde as meete it is,
Ioy to content, your daughter shal be made a happy woman
By a noble marriage.
Ped.
Happy say'st thou? oh 'tis as distant as the Moon from earth,
And has the like effects, it changes oft,
So with a silver brow, greatnesse lookes on us
Promising and lovely, but once growne full,
It brings swelling billowes to o'rewhelme us.
Iaq.
Pray father talk no more of the moon, but of your son,
Not my selfe that am your son and heire, but of your
Son in law that shall be, my noble L. Antonio, Lord of
Barcelona, and his noble Lady my sister, that shall be.
Ped.
'Twill well become her, what armes shall I give to
make her gentle by?
Iaq.
Those we can buy of the Heraulds, you know shee
Now a fine Orenge for her crest, with Ciuillity
Written round aboud it woud speake wondrous well,
Then a Capon in a Scutchen with a gizard
Vnder his left arme, with his spurs vpon his heeles
Riding vpon a Leman.
Ped.
Away, away
Thy talkes impertinent, what should a Capon
Do with a Leman?
Iaq.
I, you say well Father there indeed,
A Capon desires no Leman, and therefore
Wele hope of both that neither the Lord
Proue himselfe a Capon, nor my Sister a Leman.
Ped.
I, this thou touchest by a forced figure,
The perfect sence of all, thence grows my feare:
This loue was first conceiude, and borne in lust
How long has he laid an vnlawfull seige
Against her Virgin honour, which had she yeelded,
And beene so lemond, she nere had bin profferd
The stile of wife.
Cla.
Peace, see they come.
Enter Ant. and Margaretta.
Iaq.
I marry, heres a Lady now will weare her owne haire.
Mar.
Nay now no further protestations,
You haue said enough to make me new, or ruine me,
And this my spirit, bids me prophesye
If you repent, as loue might be ore sated
In its best desires; and any crosse euent
Should fall upon this your unequall choise,
Yours is the crime, your handmaid must be blamelesse,
Since you haue sought what I haue not desirde,
And yet, you may avoide the fatall doome
(If any such there be) by throwing backe
Your atcheiu'de vassayle.
Ant.
Teach me no errour.
I will not learne it, sweetest, if you do.
Whose sacred hands must guide vs to the path
Of your desired ioyes.
Mar.
Heres all the barre;
When these haue giuen consent I am your owne.
Ant.
It shall be done in this acknowledgement.
Father and mother let me but call you so.
Iaq.
And brother eke also.
Ant.
Yes brother too,
By this I claime them all, your daughter makes
Me your sonne, and yours.
Iaq.
And my brother.
Ant.
Ile not forget that neither.
Iaq.
If you do, I will forget to call your Lady Sister.
Cla.
Sir, I haue question'd all the will in me,
And finde it now resolu'd vnto your wish.
Iaq.
You haue my good will too brother.
Ped.
Mine is wrought out through rocks of doubt and feare,
She is your owne, I send her pilote like
Into an Argosey beyond her sterage.
Ant.
Ile hand the helme with her, and there abide
Safetie, or drowning.
Ped.
She will be hated when the disdainfull browes
Of noble greatnesse shall be shot against her,
The scornes and flowts she shall endure, will be
Farre lesse content, then is the humble quiet she enioyes.
Ant.
All those I will rebuke, and if she blush,
The beauty then will check their painted cheekes
With a rebounding shame vpon themselues,
Let not more obstacles be mention'd,
Onely let priuacie protect vs yet
Altho we scant the full solemnitie
Due to thy wishes; Hymen which afterward
Shall dare the largest blazon.
Marg.
Call it mine Sir,
And then the smallest ceremony may serue.
All wants, are onely wanting vnto you
To giue your greatnesse the due ornaments.
Shall your kinde paines prouide vs of a Priest,
Whom my instructions shall direct you to.
Iaq.
Shall I? why who am I pray?
Mar.
Yes, good brother do.
Ant.
O you teach me sweet; yes good brother do.
Ia.
O as a brother I will, I perceiue these great men
Are somewhat forgetfull of their poore kindred.
Ant.
A Fryer in Saint Austins Monastery
Aske for one Benedicke, my comends to him
Will bring him with thee, hees prepar'd for it.
Ia.
Ile be the Clarke my selfe for the groat sake,
Which you know will arise out of the two and twenty.
Ant.
Tush, Ile treble that wages.
Ia.
Nothing grieves me but this wedding will be so still borne
We shall haue no dancing at it, but Ile foot it
To the Priest howsoeuer, Fala, la, la, la:
Ant.
How ere the kings employment in the wars
Calls on my person, I shall leaue behinde
My selfe in thee, and beare my selfe along
In thy sweet memory.
Mar.
O Sir, you speake of swift diuorce.
Ant.
Rellish to ioy, a breathing from our pleasures,
Come, come, true loue shall tye two hearts in one.
Ped.
O happy proue.
| A Tragedy called All's Lost by Lvst | |