 | The Widdovves Teares |  |
Actus Secundi.
Scœna Prima.
Lysander, Tharsalio.Lysand.
So now we are our selues. Brother, that ill
relisht speech you let slip from your tongue,
hath taken so deepe hold of my thoughts,
that they will neuer giue me rest, till I be resolu'd
what 'twas you said, you know, touching my wife.
Thars.
Tush: I am wearie of this subiect, I said not so.
Lysand.
By truth it selfe you did: I ouer-heard you. Come,
it shall nothing moue me, whatsoeuer it be; pray thee vnfold
briefly what you know.
Thars.
Why briefly Brother. I know my sister to be the
wonder of the Earth; and the Enuie of the Heauens, Vertuous,
Loiall, and what not. Briefly, I know shee hath
vow'd, that till death and after death, sheele hold inuiolate
her bonds to you, & that her black shal take no other hew;
all which I firmely beleeue. In briefe Brother, I know
her to be a woman. But you know brother, I haue other
yrons on th'anuile.
Exiturus.
Lysand.
You shall not leaue mee so vnsatisfied; tell mee
Thar.
Why Brother; if you be sure of your wiues loialtie
for terme of life: why should you be curious to search the
Almanacks for after-times: whether some wandring Æneas
should enioy your reuersion; or whether your true
Turtle would sit mourning on a wither'd branch, till Atropos
cut her throat: Beware of curiositie, for who can resolue
you? youle say perhaps her vow.
Lysand.
Perhaps I shall.
Thar.
Tush, her selfe knowes not what shee shall doe,
when shee is transform'd into a Widdow. You are now a
sober and staid Gentleman. But if Diana for your curiositie
should translate you into a monckey; doe you know
what gambolds you should play? your only way to bee resolu'd
is to die and make triall of her.
Lysand.
A deare experiment, then I must rise againe to bee
resolu'd.
Thar.
You shall not neede. I can send you speedier aduertisement
of her constancie, by the next Ripier that
rides that way with Mackerell. And so I leaue you.
Lysand.
All the Furies in hell attend thee; has giuen me a
Bone to tire on with a pestilence; slight know?
What can he know? what can his eie obserue
More then mine owne, or the most piersing sight
That euer viewed her? by this light I thinke
Her priuat'st thought may dare the eie of heauen,
And challenge th'enuious world to witnesse it.
I know him for a wild corrupted youth,
Whom prophane Ruffins, Squires to Bawds, & Strumpets,
Drunkards, speud out of Tauerns, into'th sinkes
Of Tap-houses, and Stewes, Reuolts from manhood;
Debaucht perdu's, haue by their companies
Turn'd Deuill like themselues, and stuft his soule
With damn'd opinions, and vnhallowed thoughts
Of womanhood, of all humanitie,
Nay Deitie it selfe.
Lys.
Welcome friend Lycus.
Lyc.
Haue you met with your capricious brother?
Lys.
He parted hence but now.
Lyc.
And has he yet resolu'd you of that point you brake
with me about?
Lys.
Yes, he bids me die for further triall of her constancie.
Lyc.
That were a strange Phisicke for a iealous patient;
to cure his thirst with a draught of poison. Faith Sir, discharge
your thoughts an't; thinke 'twas but a Buzz deuis'd
by him to set your braines a work, and diuert your eie from
his disgrace. The world hath written your wife in highest
lines of honour'd Fame: her vertues so admir'd in this Ile,
as the report thereof sounds in forraigne eares; and strangers
oft arriuing here, (as some rare sight) desire to view
her presence, thereby to compare the Picture with the originall.
Nor thinke he can turne so farre rebell to his bloud,
Her spotlesse loue and loialtie; perhaps
Oft hauing heard you hold her faith so sacred
As you being dead, no man might stirre a sparke
Of vertuous loue, in way of second bonds;
As if you at your death should carrie with you
Both branch and roote of all affection.
T'may be, in that point hee's an Infidell,
And thinkes your confidence may ouer-weene.
Lys.
So thinke not I.
Lyc.
Nor I: if euer any made it good.
I am resolu'd of all, sheele proue no changling.
Lys.
Well, I must yet be further satisfied;
And vent this humour by some straine of wit,
Somewhat Ile doe; but what, I know not yet.
Exeunt.
Sthe.
Passion of Virginitie, Ianthe, how shall we quit
our selues of this Pandresse, that is so importunate
to speake with vs? Is shee knowne to be a Pandresse?
Ian.
I, as well as we are knowne to be waiting women.
Sthe.
A shrew take your comparison.
Sthe.
Lets cal out Argus that bold Asse that neuer weighs
what he does or saies; but walkes and talkes like one in a
sleepe; to relate her attendance to my Ladie, and present
her.
Ian.
Who? ant please your Honour? None so fit to set on
any dangerous exploit.
Enter Argus bare.
Arg.
Whats the matter Wenches?
Sthe.
You must tell my Ladie here's a Gentle-woman
call'd Arsace, her Honours Tennant, attends her, to
impart important businesse to her.
Arg.
I will presently.
Iant.
Well, shee has a welcome present, to beare out her
vnwelcome presence: and I neuer knew but a good gift
would welcome a bad person to the purest. Arsace?
Enter Arsace.
Ars.
I mistris.
Sthe.
Giue me your Present, Ile doe all I can, to make
way both for it and your selfe.
Ars.
You shall binde me to your seruice Ladie.
Sthe.
Stand vnseene.
Enter Lyc. Eudora, Laodice, Reb, Hiar Psor. comming after, Argus comming to Eudora.
Arg.
Here's a Gentle-woman (ant
Please your Honour) one of your Tennants
Desires accesse to you.
Eud.
What Tennant? what's her name?
Arsace, shee saies Madam.
Eud.
Arsace? what the Bawde?
Arg.
The Bawd Madam? shee strikes, that's without my
priuitie.
Eud.
Out Asse, know'st not thou the Pandresse Arsace?
Sth.
Shee presents your Honour with this Iewell?
Eud.
This iewell? how came shee by such a iewell?
Shee has had great Customers.
Arg.
Shee had neede Madam, shee sits at a great Rent.
Eud.
Alas for your great Rent: Ile keepe her iewell, and
keepe you her out, yee were best: speake to me for a Pandresse?
Arg.
What shall we doe?
Sthe.
Goe to; Let vs alone. Arsace?
Ars.
I Ladie.
Sthe.
You must pardon vs, we can not obtaine your accesse.
Ars.
Mistris Sthenio, tell her Honour, if I get not accesse
To her, and that instantly shee's vndone.
Sthe.
This is some-thing of importance. Madam, shee
sweares your Honour is vndone if she speake not with you
instantly.
Eud.
Vndone?
Ars.
Pray her for her Honours sake to giue mee instant
accesse to her.
Sthe.
Shee makes her businesse your Honour Madame,
and entreates for the good of that, her instant speech with
you.
Eud.
How comes my Honour in question? Bring her
to mee.
Enter Arsace.
Ars.
Ovr
Cypriane Goddesse saue your good Honor.
Eud.
Stand you off I pray: How dare you Mistris
importune accesse to me thus, considering the last warning
I gaue for your absence?
Ars.
Because, Madam, I haue been mou'd by your Honours
last most chast admonition, to leaue the offensiue life
Eud.
I? haue you left it then?
Ars.
I, I assure your Honour, vnlesse it be for the pleasure
of two or three poore Ladies, that haue prodigall Knights
to their husbands.
Eud.
Out on thee Impudent.
Ars.
Alas Madam, wee would all bee glad to liue in our
callings.
Eud.
Is this the reform'd life thou talk'st on?
Ars.
I beseech your good Honour mistake me not, I boast
of nothing but my charitie, that's the worst.
Eud.
You get these iewels with charitie, no doubt. But
whats the point in which my Honour stands endanger'd I
pray?
Ars.
In care of that Madam, I haue presum'd to offend
your chast eies with my presence. Hearing it reported for
truth and generally, that your Honor will take to husband
a yong Gentleman of this Citie called Tharsalio.
Eud.
I take him to husband?
Ars.
If your Honour does, you are vtterly vndone, for
hee's the most incontinent, and insatiate Man of Women
that euer Venvs blest with abilitie to please
them.
Eud.
Let him be the Deuill; I abhorre his thought, and
could I be inform'd particularly of any of these slanderers
of mine Honour, he should as dearely dare it, as any thing
wherein his life were endanger'd.
Ars.
Madam, the report of it is so strongly confident, that
I feare the strong destinie of marriage is at worke in it.
But if it bee Madam: Let your Honours knowne vertue
resist and defie it for him: for not a hundred will serue
his one turne. I protest to your Honour, When (Venvs
pardon mee) I winckt at my vnmaidenly exercise.
I haue knowne nine in a Night made mad with his
loue.
Eud.
What tell'st thou mee of his loue? I tell thee I abhorre
him; and destinie must haue an other mould
a Witchcraft aboue both, to transforme mee to another
shape, as soone as to an other conceipt of
him.
Ars.
Then is your good Honour iust as I pray for you,
and good-Madam, euen for your vertues sake, and comfort
of all your Dignities, and Possessions; fixe your whole
Woman-hood against him. Hee will so inchant you, as
neuer man did woman: Nay a Goddesse (say his light
huswiues) is not worthie of his sweetnesse.
Eud.
Goe to, be gone.
Ars.
Deare Madam, your Honours most perfect admonitions
haue brought mee to such a hate of these imperfections,
that I could not but attend you with my dutie,
and vrge his vnreasonable manhood to the fill.
Eud.
Man-hood, quoth you?
Ars.
Nay Beastly-hood, I might say, indeede Madam,
but for sauing your Honour; Nine in a night
said I?
Eud.
Goe to, no more.
Ars.
No more Madame? that's enough one would
thinke.
Eud.
Well be gone I bid thee.
Ars.
Alas Madam, your Honour is the chiefe of our Citie,
and to whom shall I complaine of these inchastities,
(being your Ladiships reform'd Tennant) but to you that
are chastest?
Eud.
I pray thee goe thy waies, and let me see this reformation
you pretend continued.
Ars.
I humbly thanke your good Honour, that was first
cause of it.
Eud.
Here's a complaint as strange as my Suiter.
Ars.
I beseech your good Honour thinke vpon him,
make him an example.
Eud.
Yet againe?
Ars.
All my dutie to your Excellence.
Eud.
These sorts of licentious persons, when they are
the course of the world to dispraise faults & vse them; that
so we may vse them the safer. What might a wise Widdow
resolue vpon this point now? Contentment is the end of
all worldly beings: Beshrow her; would shee had spared
her newes.
Exit.
Reb.
See if shee take not a contrarie way to free her selfe
of vs.
Hiar.
You must complaine to his Altitude.
Psor.
All this for triall is; you must indure
That will haue wiues, nought else, with them is sure.
Exit.
Tharsalio, Arsace.
Thar.
Hast thou beene admitted then?
Ars.
Admitted? I, into her heart, Ile able it; neuer
was man so prais'd with a dispraise; nor so spoken for in
being rail'd on. Ile giue you my word; I haue set her hart
vpon as tickle a pin as the needle of a Diall; that will neuer
let it rest, till it be in the right position.
Thar.
Why dost thou imagine this?
Ars.
Because I saw Cupid shoot in my wordes, and open
his wounds in her lookes. Her bloud went and came of
errands betwixt her face and her heart; and these changes
I can tell you are shrewd tell-tales.
Thar.
Thou speak'st like a Doctrisse in thy facultie; but
howsoeuer, for all this foile, Ile retriue the game once againe,
hee's a shallow gamster that for one displeasing cast
giues vp so faire a game for lost.
Ars.
Well, 'twas a villanous inuention of thine, and had
a swift operation, it tooke like sulphure. And yet this vertuous
Countesse hath to my eare spun out many a tedious
lecture of pure sisters thred against concupiscence. But euer
with such an affected zeale, as my minde gaue me, shee
had a kinde of secret titillation to grace my poore house
sometimes; but that shee fear'd a spice of the Sciatica,
which as you know euer runs in the bloud.
And as you know, sokes into the bones. But to say
truth, these angrie heates that breake out at the lips of these
streight lac't Ladies, are but as symptoms of a lustfull feuer
that boiles within them. For wherefore rage wiues at their
husbands so, when they flie out, for zeale against the sinne?
Ars.
No, but because they did not purge that sinne.
Thar.
Th'art a notable Syren, and I sweare to thee, if I
prosper, not only to giue thee thy mannor-house gratis,
but to marrie thee to some one Knight or other, and burie
thy trade in thy Ladiship: Goe be gone.
Exit. Ars.
Enter Lycus.
Thar.
What newes Lycus? where's the Ladie?
Lyc.
Retir'd into her Orchard.
Thar.
A pregnant badge of loue, shee's melancholy.
Lyc.
'Tis with the sight of her Spartane wooer. But howsoeuer
tis with her, you haue practis'd strangely vpon your
Brother.
Thar.
Why so?
Lyc.
You had almost lifted his wit off the hinges. That
sparke ielousie falling into his drie melancholy braines, had
well neare set the whole house on fire.
Thar.
No matter, let it worke; I did but pay him in's
owne coine; Sfoot hee plied me with such a volley of vnseason'd
scoffs, as would haue made Patience it selfe turne
Ruffine, attiring it selfe in wounds and bloud: but is his
humour better qualified then?
Lyc.
Yes, but with a medicine ten parts more dangerous
then the sicknesse: how know you strange his dotage euer
was on his wife; taking speciall glorie to haue her loue and
loialtie to him so renowm'd abrode. To whom shee oftentimes
hath vow'd constancie after life, till her owne death
had brought forsooth, her widdow-troth to bed. This he
ioi'd in strangely, and was therein of infallible beliefe, till
your surmise began to shake it; which hath loos'd it so, as
now there's nought can settle it, but a triall, which hee's
resolu'd vpon.
Thar.
As how man? as how?
Hee is resolu'd to follow your aduise, to die, and
make triall of her stablenesse, and you must lend your hand
to it.
Thar.
What to cut's throat?
Lyc.
To forge a rumour of his death, to vphold it by circumstance,
maintaine a publike face of mourning, and all
thinges appertaining.
Thar.
I, but the meanes man: what time? what probabilitie.
Lyc.
Nay, I thinke he has not lickt his Whelpe into full
shape yet, but you shall shortly heare ant.
Thar.
And when shall this strange conception see light?
Lyc.
Forthwith: there's nothing staies him, but some
odde businesse of import, which hee must winde vp; least
perhaps his absence by occasion of his intended triall bee
prolonged aboue his aimes.
Thar.
Thankes for this newes i' faith. This may perhaps
proue happie to my Nephew. Truth is I loue my sister well
and must acknowledge her more then ordinarie vertues.
But shee hath so possest my brothers heart with vowes, and
disauowings, seal'd with oathes of second nuptialls; as in
that confidence, hee hath inuested her in all his state, the
ancient inheritance of our Familie: and left my Nephew
and the rest to hang vpon her pure deuotion; so as he dead,
and shee matching (as I am resolu'd shee will) with some
yong Prodigall; what must ensue, but her post-issue beggerd,
and our house alreadie sinking, buried quick in ruin.
But this triall may remoue it, and since tis come to this;
marke but the issue Lycus, for all these solemne vowes, if I
doe not make her proue in the handling as weake as a wafer;
say I lost my time in trauaile. This resolution then has
set his wits in ioynt againe, hee's quiet.
Lyc.
Yes, and talkes of you againe in the fairest manner,
listens after your speede.
Thar.
Nay hee's passing kinde, but I am glad of this triall
for all that.
Lyc.
Which he thinkes to be a flight beyond your wing.
But hee will change that thought ere long. My
Bird you saw euen now, sings me good newes, and makes
hopefull signes to me.
Lyc.
Somewhat can I say too, since your messengers departure,
her Ladiship hath beene something alter'd, more
pensiue then before, and tooke occasion to question of
you, what your addictions were? of what tast your humor
was? of what cut you wore your wit, and all this in a kind
of disdainefull scorne.
Thar.
Good Callenders Lycus. Well Ile pawne this iewell
with thee, my next encounter shall quite alter my brothers
iudgement. Come lets in, he shall commend it for a
discreet and honourable attempt.
Thy wishes shall assist me:
Lyc.
And my meanes.
Exeunt.
Argus, Clinias, Sthenio, Ianthe.
Arg.
I must confesse I was ignorant, what 'twas to
court a Ladie till now.
Sthe.
And I pray you what is it now?
Arg.
To court her I perceiue, is to woo her with letters
from Court, for so this Spartane Lords Court discipline
teacheth.
Sth.
His Lordship hath procur'd a new Pacquet from his
Altitude.
Clin.
If he bring no better ware then letters in's pacquet,
I shall greatly doubt of his good speede.
Ian.
If his Lordship did but know how gracious his Aspect
is to my Ladie in this solitarie humour.
Clin.
Well these retir'd walkes of hers are not vsuall; and
bode some alteration in her thoughts. What may bee the
cause Sthenio.
Sthe.
Nay twould trouble Argus with his hundred eies
to descrie the cause.
Ian.
Venus keepe her vpright, that shee fall not from
suiters will tempt her from her constant vow of
widdow-hood. If they doe, good night to our good daies.
Sthe.
'Twere a sinne to suspect her; I haue been witnesse
to so many of her fearfull protestations to our late Lord against
that course, to her infinite oathes imprinted on his
lips, and seal'd in his heart with such imprecations to her
bed, if euer it should receiue a second impression, to her open
and often detestations of that incestuous life (as shee
term'd it) of widdowes marriages, as being but a kinde of
lawful adulterie; like vsurie permitted by the law, not approu'd.
That to wed a second, was no better then to cuckold
the first: That women should entertaine wedlock as
one bodie, as one life, beyond which there were no desire,
no thought, no repentance from it, no restitution to it. So
as if the conscience of her vowes should not restraine her,
yet the worlds shame to breake such a constant resolution,
should represse any such motion in her.
Arg.
Well, for her vowes, they are gone to heauen with
her husband, they binde not vpon earth: And as for Womens
resolutions, I must tell you, The Planets, & (as Ptolomie
saies) the windes haue a great stroke in them. Trust
not my learning if her late strangeness, and exorbitant
solitude, be not hatching some new Monster.
Ian.
Well applied Argus; Make you husbands Monsters?
Arg.
I spoke of no husbands, but you Wenches haue the
pregnant wits, to turne Monsters into husbands, as you
turne husbands into monsters.
Sthe.
Well Ianthe, 'twere high time we made in, to part
our Ladie and her Spartane wooer.
Ian.
We shall appeare to her like the two fortunate Stars
in a tempest, to saue the shipwrack of her patience.
Sthe.
I, and to him to, I beleeue; For by this time he hath
spent the last dramme of his newes.
Arg.
That is, of his wit.
Sth.
Iust good wittals.
Ian.
If not, that my Ladie be not
what such a Lord said of his wife the first night hee
embrac't her: To what Gentleman such a Count was beholding
for his fiue children. What yong Ladie, such an
old Count should marrie; what Reuells: what presentments
are towards; and who penn'd the Pegmas; and so
forth: and yet for all this, I know her harsh Suiter hath tir'd
her to the vttermost scruple of her forbearances, and will
doe more, vnlesse we two, like a paire of Sheres, cut a-sunder
the thred of his discourse.
Sthe.
Well then, lets in; But my masters, waite you on
your charge at your perils, See that you guard her approch
from any more intruders.
Ian.
Excepting yong Tharsalio.
Sthe.
True, excepting him indeede, for a guard of men is
not able to keep him out ant please your Honour.
Arg.
O Wenches, that's the propertie of true valour, to
promise like Pigmey, and performe like a Giant. If hee
come, Ile bee sworne Ile doe my Ladies commandement
vpon him.
Ian.
What? beate him out?
Sthe.
If hee should, Tharsalio would not take it ill all at his
handes, for he does but his Ladies commandement.
Enter Tharsalio.
Arg.
Well, by Hercules he comes not here.
Sthe.
By Uenus but hee does: or else shee hath
heard my Ladies praiers, and sent some gracious spirit in
his likenesse to fright away that Spartane wooer, that
hants her.
Thar.
There stand her Sentinells.
Arg.
Slight the Ghost appeare againe.
Thar.
Saue yee my quondam fellowes in Armes; saue yee;
my women.
Sthe.
Your Women Sir?
Thar.
'Twill be so. What no courtesies? No preparation
of grace? obserue me I aduise you for your owne sakes.
Ian.
For your owne sake, I aduise you to pack hence, lest
Clin.
What senselesse boldnesse is this Tharsalio?
Arg.
Well said Clinias, talke to him.
Clin.
I wonder that notwithstanding the shame of your
last entertainment, and threatnings of worse; you would
yet presume to trouble this place againe.
Thar.
Come y'are a widgine; Off with your hat Sir, acknowledge:
forecast is better then labour. Are you squint
ey'd? can you not see afore you. A little foresight I can tell
you might sted you much as the Starres shine now.
Clin.
'Tis well sir, tis not for nothing your brother is asham'd
on you. But Sir, you must know, wee are chardg'd
to barre your entrance.
Thar.
But Wifler, know you, that who so shall date to
execute that charge, Ile be his Executioner.
Arg.
By Ioue, Clinias, me thinks, the Gentleman speakes
very honourably.
Thar.
Well see this house needes reformation, here's a
fellow stands behind now, of a forwarder insight then yee
all. What place hast thou?
Arg.
What place you please Sir.
Thar.
Law you Sir. Here's a fellow to make a Gentleman
Vsher Sir, I discharge you of the place, and doe here
inuest thee into his roome, Make much of thy haire, thy
wit will suit it rarely. And for the full possession of thine office;
Come, Vsher me to thy Ladie: and to keep thy hand
supple, take this from me.
Arg.
No bribes Sir, ant please your Worship.
Thar.
Goe to, thou dost well; but pocket it for all that;
it's no impaire to thee: the greatest doo't.
Arg.
Sir, tis your loue only that I respect, but since out
of your loue you please to bestow it vpon me, It were want
of Courtship in mee to refuse it; Ile acquaint my Ladie
with your comming.
Thar.
How say by this? haue not I made a fit choise,
that hath so soone attain'd the deepest mysterie of his profession:
Good sooth Wenches, a few courtsies had not
Sthe.
Weele beleeue that, when our Ladie has a new
Sonne of your getting.
Enter Argus, Eudora, Rebus, Hiar. Psor.
Eud.
Whats the matter? whose that, you say, is come?
Arg.
The bold Gentleman, ant please your Honour.
Eud.
Why thou flering Asse thou.
Arg.
Ant please your Honour.
Eud.
Did not I forbid his approch by all the charge and
dutie of thy seruice?
Thar.
Madam, this fellow only is intelligent; for he truly
vnderstood your command according to the stile of the
Court of Venus; that is, by contraries: when you forbid
you bid.
Eud.
By heauen Ile discharge my house of yee all.
Thar.
You shall not neede Madame, for I haue alreadie
casheer'd your officious Vsher here, and chos'd this for his
Successor.
Eud.
O incredible boldnesse!
Thar.
Madam, I come not to command your loue with
enforst letters, nor to woo you with tedious stories of my
Pedigree, as hee who drawes the thred of his descent from
Ledas Distaffe; when 'tis well knowne his Grandsire cried
Coniskins in Sparta.
Reb.
Whom meane you Sir?
Thar.
Sir, I name none, but him who first shall name
himselfe.
Reb.
The place Sir, I tell you still; and this Goddesses
faire presence, or else my reply should take a farre other
forme vpon't.
Thar.
If it should Sir, I would make your Lordship an
anser.
Arg.
Anser's Latine for a Goose, ant please your honor.
Eud.
Well noted Gander; and what of that?
Arg.
Nothing, ant please your Honor, but that he said he
Eud.
Thus euery foole mocks my poore Suiter. Tell mee
thou most frontlesse of all men, did'st thou (when thou
had'st meanes to note me best) euer obserue so base a temper
in mee, as to giue any glance at stooping to my Vassall?
Thar.
Your drudge Madam, to doe your drudgerie.
Eud.
Or am I now so skant of worthie Suiters, that may
aduance mine honour; aduance my estate; strengthen my
alliance (if I list to wed) that I must stoop to make my foot
my head.
Thar.
No but your side, to keepe you warme a bed. But
Madame vouchsafe me your patience to that points serious
answere. Though I confesse to get higher place in your
graces, I could wish my fortunes more honourable; my
person more gratious; my minde more adorn'd with Noble
and Heroicall vertues, yet Madame (that you thinke
not your bloud disparadg'd by mixture with mine) daine
to know this: howsoeuer I once, only for your loue, disguis'd
my selfe in the seruice of your late Lord and mine,
yet my descent is as honourable as the proudest of your
Spartane attempters; who by vnknown quills or conduits
vnder ground, drawes his Pedigree from Lycnrgus his
great Toe, to the Viceroies little finger, and from thence
to his owne elbow, where it will neuer leaue itching.
Reb.
Tis well Sir, presume still of the place.
Thar.
Sfoot Madame, am I the first great personage that
hath stoopt to disguises for loue? what thinke you of our
Countrie-man Hercules; that for loue put on Omphales
Apron, and sate spinning amongst her Wenches, while his
Mistris wore his Lyons skin and Lamb-skin'd him, if he did
not his businesse.
Eud.
Most fitly thou resembl'st thy selfe to that violent
Atlas, that claim'd all other mens possessions as his owne
by his meere valour. For what lesse hast thou done? Come
into my house, beate away these Honourable persons?
Thar.
That I will Madam. Hence yee Sparta Veluet.
Hold, shee did not meane so.
Thar.
Away I say, or leaue your liues I protest here.
Hiar.
Well Sir, his Altitude shall know you.
Reb.
Ile doe your errand Sir.
Exeunt.
Thar.
Doe good Cosen Altitude; and beg the reuersion
of the next Ladie: for Dido has betrotht her loue to me. By
this faire hand Madam, a faire riddance of this Calidonian
Bore.
Eud.
O most prodigious audaciousnesse!
Thar.
True Madam; O fie vpon am, they are intollerable.
And I can not but admire your singular vertue of patience,
not common in your sexe; and must therefore carrie with
it some rare indowment of other Masculine and Heroicall
vertues. To heare a rude Spartane court so ingenuous a
Ladie, with dull newes from Athens, or the Vicerois court;
how many dogs were spoil'd at the last Bull-baiting; what
Ladies dub'd their husbands Knights, and so forth.
Eud.
But hast thou no shame? No sense of what disdain
I shew'd thee in my last entertainment? chacing thee from
my presence, and charging thy dutie, not to attempt the
like intrusion for thy life; and dar'st thou yet approch mee
in this vnmannerly manner? No question this desperate
boldnesse can not choose but goe accompanied with other
infinite rudenesses.
Thar.
Good Madam, giue not the Child an vnfit name,
terme it not boldnes, which the Sages call true confidence,
founded on the most infallible Rocke of a womans constancie.
Eud.
If shame can not restraine thee, tell mee yet if any
brainlesse foole would haue tempted the danger attending
thy approch.
Thar.
No Madam, that proues I am no Foole: Then had
I been here a Foole, and a base low-sprited Spartan, if for
a Ladies froune, or a Lords threates, or for a Guard of
Groomes, I should haue shrunke in the wetting, and suffer'd
such a delicious flower to perish in the stalke, or to be
sauadgely pluckt by a prophane finger. No Madam: First
Guard seaze on my despised bodie, bind me hand and foot,
and hurle me into your Ladiships bed.
Eud.
O Gods: I protest thou dost more and more make
me admire thee.
Thar.
Madam, ignorance is the mother of admiration:
know me better, and youle admire me lesse.
Eud.
What would'st thou haue mee know? what seekes
thy comming? why dost thou hant me thus?
Thar.
Only Madam, that the Ætna of my sighes, and Nilus
of my teares, pour'd forth in your presence, might witnesse
to your Honor the hot and moist affection of my hart,
and worke me some measure of fauour, from your sweete
tongue, or your sweeter lips, or what else your good Ladiship
shall esteeme more conducible, to your diuine contentment.
Eud.
Pen and Inck-horne I thanke thee. This you learn'd
when you were a Seruing-man.
Thar.
Madam, I am still the same creature; and I will so
tie my whole fortunes to that stile, as were it my happinesse
(as I know it will be) to mount into my Lords succession.
yet vow I neuer to assume other Title, or State, then your
seruants: Not approching your boord, but bidden: Not
pressing to your bed, but your pleasure shall be first known
if you will command me any seruice.
Eud.
Thy vowes are as vaine as a Ruffins othes; as common
as the aire; and as cheape as the dust. How many of
the light huswiues, thy Muses, hath thy loue promist this
seruice besides, I pray thee?
Thar.
Compare shadowes to bodies, Madam; Pictures
to the life; and such are they to you, in my valuation.
Eud.
I see wordes will neuer free me of thy boldnesse,
and will therefore now vse blowes; and those of the mortallest
enforcement. Let it suffice Sir, that all this time, and
to this place, you enioy your safetie; keepe backe: No one
foote follow mee further; for I protest to thee, the next
threshold past, lets passe a prepar'd Ambush to thy latest
Exit. Eud.
Thar.
This for your Ambush,
He drawes
. Dare my loue
with death?
Clin.
Slight; follow ant please your Honour.
Arg.
Not I by this light.
Clin.
I hope Gentle-women you will.
Sthe.
Not we Sir, we are no parters of fraies.
Clin.
Faith nor Ile be any breaker of customes.
Exeunt.
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