 | A Pleasant Comedy, Called :The Case is Altered |  |
Scæne 5.
Enter Count Ferneze, Maximilian, Aurelia, Phœnixella, Sebast. Balthasar.Count.
VVhere should he be, trow? did you looke in the armory?
Sebast.
No my Lord.
Count.
No, why there? ô who would keepe such drones?
Exeunt Sebast. and Baltha.
How now, ha ye found him?
Enter Martino.
Mart.
No my Lord.
Count.
No my Lord, I shall haue shortly all my family
Speake nought, but no my Lord, where is Christophero,
Enter Chrristophero.
Looke how he stands, you sleepy knaue,
Exit Martino.
What is he not in the Garden?
Christo.
No my good Lord.
Count.
Your good Lord, ô how this smels of of fennell.
Enter Sebast. Baltha.
You haue bene in the garden it appeares, well, well.
Balth.
We cannot find him my Lord.
Sebast.
He is not in the armory.
Count.
He is not, he is no where, is he?
Maxi.
Count Ferneze.
Count.
Signior.
Maxi.
Preserue your patience honorable Count.
Count.
Patience? a Saint would loose his patience to be crost,
See see, how like a nest of Rookes they stand,
Enter Onion.
Gaping on one another now Diligence, what news bring you?
Oni.
Ant please your honour.
Count.
Tut, tut, leaue pleasing of my honour Diligence, you
double with we, come.
Oni.
How: does he find fault with Please his Honour.
S'wounds it has begun a seruingmans speech, euer since I belongd
to the blew order: I know not how it may shew, now I
am in blacke, but—
Count.
Whats that, you mutter sir? will you proceed?
Oni.
Ant like your good Lordship.
Count.
Yet more, Gods precious.
Oni.
What, do not this like him neither?
Count.
What say you sir knaue?
Oni.
Mary I say your Lordship were best to set me to
schoole againe, to learne how to deliuer a message.
Count.
What do you take exceptions at me then.
Oni.
Exception? I take no exceptions, but by Gods so your
humours—
Count.
Go to you are a Raskall, hold your tongue.
Oni.
Your Lordships poore seruant, I.
Count.
Tempt not my patience.
Oni.
Why I hope I am no spirit, am I?
Maxi.
My Lord, command your Steward to correct the
slaue.
Oni.
Correct him, S'bloud come you and correct him and
you haue a minde to it, correct him, that's a good iest I faith,
the Steward and you both, come and correct him.
Count.
Nay see, away with him, pull his cloth ouer his eares.
Oni.
Cloth? tell me of your cloth, here's your cloth, nay
and I mourne minute longer, I am the rottenest Onion that euer
spake with a tongue.
They thrust him out.
Maxi.
What call your hind's count Ferneze?
Count.
His name is Onion Signior,
Maxi.
I thought him some such sawcy companion.
Signior Maximillian.
Maxi.
Sweet Lord.
Count.
Let me intreat you, you would not regard
Any contempt flowing from such a spirit,
So rude, so barbarous.
Maxi.
Most noble Count vnder your fauour—
Coun.
Why Ile tell you Signior,
Heele bandy with me word for word, nay more,
Put me to silence, strike me perfect dumb;
And so amaze me, that oftentimes I know not,
Whether to check or cherish his presumption:
Therefore good Signior.
Maxi.
Sweet Lord satisfie your selfe, I am not now to learn
how to manage my affections, I haue obseru'd, and know
the difference betweene a base wretch and a true man, I can
distinguish them, the property of the wretch is, he would hurt
and cannot, of the man, he can hurt, and will not.
Coun.
Go to, my merry daughter, ô these lookes,
Agree well with your habit, do they not?
Enter Iuniper.
Iunip.
Tut, let me alone. By your fauour, this is the Gentleman
I thinke, Sir you appeare to be an honorable Gentleman,
I vnderstand, and could wish (for mine owne part) that
things were conden't otherwise then they are: but (the world
knowes) a foolish fellow, somewhat procliue, and hasty, he
did it in a preiudicate humour; mary now vpon better computation,
he wanes; he melts; his poore eyes are in a cold
sweat. Right noble Signior, you can haue but compunction, I
loue the man, tender your compassion.
Maxi.
Doth any man here vnderstand this fellow?
Iunip.
O God sir, I may say frustra to the comprehension
of your intellection.
Maxi.
Before the Lord, he speakes all riddle, I thinke.
I must haue a comment ere I can conceiue him.
Count.
Why he sues to haue his fellow Onion pardon'd,
And you must grant it Signior.
Maxi.
O with all my soule my Lord, is that his motion?
I sir, and we shall retort these kinde fauours with all
allacrity of spirit, we can sir, as may be most expedient, as
well for the quality as the cause, till when in spight of this
complement: I rest a poore Cobler, seruant to my honorable
Lord here, your friend and Iuniper.
Exit.
Maxi.
How Iuniper?
Count.
I Signior.
Maxi.
He is a sweete youth, his tongue has a happy turne
when he sleepes.
Enter Paulo Ferneze, Francisco, Colomea, Angelo, Valentine.
Count.
I for then it rests, O Sir your welcome,
Why God be thanked you are found at last:
Signior Coloma truly you are welcome,
I am glad to see you sir so well returned.
Fran.
I gladly thanke your honour, yet indeed
I am sory for such cause of heauinesse,
As hath possest your Lordship in my absence.
Count.
O Francisco, you knew her what she was!
Fran.
She was a wise and honorable Lady.
Count.
I was she not! well weepe not she is gone,
Passons duld eye can make two grieues of one,
Whom death marke out, vertue, nor bluod can saue,
Princes, as beggers, all must feed the graue.
Max.
Are your horse ready Lord Paulo,
Pau.
I signior the stay for vs at the gate.
Max.
Well tis good. Ladies I will take my leaue of you,
Be your fortunes as your selues? faire. Come let vs to horse,
Count Ferneze I beare a spirit full of thanks for all your honorable
courtesies.
Count.
Sir I could wish the number and value of them more
in respect of your deseruings. But Signior Maximillian.
Aur.
I Faith brother you are fitted for a generall yonder,
Beshrow my heart (If I had Fortunatus hat here) and I would
not with my selfe a man and go with you, only t'enioy his presence.
Why do you loue him so well sister.
Aur.
No by my troth, but I haue such an odde prety apprehension
of his humour me thinks: that I am cene tickled with
the conceite of it.
Ang.
And me thinks another may beas fine as he.
Aur.
O Angelio, do you thinke I do vrge any comparison against
you? no, I am not so ill bred, as to be a deprauer of your
worthines: beleeue me, if I had not some hope of your abiding
with vs, I should neuer desire to go out of black whilst I liued:
but learne to speake i'the nose, and turne puritan presently.
Ang.
I thanke you Lady: I know you can flout.
Aur.
Come doe you take it so? I faith you wrong me.
Fran.
I, but Maddame,
Thus to disclaime in all the effects of pleasure,
May make your sadnesse seeme to much affected,
And then the proper grace of it is lost.
Phœnix.
Indeed sir, if I did put on this sadnesse
Onely abroad, and in Society,
And were in priuate merry; and quick humor'd;
Then might it seeme affected and abhord:
But as my lookes appeare, such is my spirit,
Drown'd vp with confluence of griefe, and melancholy,
That like to riuers run through all my vaines,
Quenching the pride and feruour of my bloud.
Max.
My honorable Lord? no more.
There is the honour of my bloud ingag'd,
For your sonnes safety.
Count.
Signior, blame me not,
For tending his security so much,
He is mine onely sonne, and that word onely.
Hath with his strong, and reprecussiue sound,
Stroke my heart cold, and giuen it a deepe wound.
Max.
Why but stay, I beseech you, had your Lordship euer
any more sonnes then this.
Count.
Why haue not you knowen it Maximilian?
Let my Sword faile me then.
Count.
I had one other yonger borne then this,
By twise so many how ers as would fill
The circle of a yeare, his name Camillo,
Whome in that blacke, and fearfull night I lost,
(Tis now a nineteene yeares agone at least,
And yet the memory of it fits as fresh
Within my braine as twere but yesterday)
It was that night wherein the great Chamont,
The generall for France surprised Vicenza,
Me thinks the horrour of that clamorous shout
His souldiers gaue'when they attaind the wall,
Yet tingles in mine eare, me thinkes I see
With what amazed lookes, distracted thoughts,
And minds confus'd, we, that were citizens,
Confronted one another: euery street
Was fild with bitter selfe tormenting cries,
And happy was that foote, that first could presse,
The flowry champaigne, bordering on Verona.
Heere I (imploy'd about my deare wiues safety)
Whose soule is now in peace) lost my Camillo.
Who sure was murdered by the barbarous Souldiers,
Or else I should haue heard—my heart is great.
Sorrow is faint? and passion makes me sweat.
Max.
Grieue not sweet Count: comfort your spirts, you
haue a sonne a noble gentleman, he stands in the face of honour:
For his safety let that be no question. I am maister of my
fortune, and he shall share with me. Farewell my honorable
Lord, Ladies once more adiew, for your selfe maddam you are
a most rare creature, I tell you so, be not proud of it, I loue you:
come Lord Paulo to horse.
Pau.
Adiew good Signior Francesco: farewell sister.
Sound a tucket, and as they passe euery one seuerally depart, Maximilian, Paulo Ferneze and Angelo remaine
Ang.
How shall, we rid him hence.
Why well inough? sweet Signior Maximilian,
I haue some small occasion to stay:
If it may please you but take horse afore
Ile ouer take you, ere your troopes be rang'd.
Max.
Your motion hath tast wel: Lord Ferneze I go.
Exit Max.
Pau.
Now if my loue faire Rachel, were so happy,
But to looke forth. See fortune doth me grace.
Enter Rachel.
Before I can demaund? how now loue.
Where is your father?
Rach.
Gone abroad my Lord:
Pau.
Thats well.
Rach.
I but I feare heele presently returne,
Are you now going my most honored Lord?
Pau.
I my sweet Rachel.
Ang.
Before God, she is a sweet wench.
Pau.
Rachel I hope I shall not need to vrge,
The sacred purity of our effects,
As if it hung in triall or suspence:
Since in our hearts, and by our mutuall vowes,
It is confirmd and seald in fight of heauen.
Nay doe not weepe, why starte you? feare not, Loue.
Your father cannot be return'd so soone,
I prithee doe not looke so heauily,
Thou shalt want nothing.
Rach.
No is your presence nothing?
I shall want that, and wanting that, want all:
For that is all to me.
Pau.
Content thee sweet,
I haue Made choise here of a constant friend
This gentleman? one, whose zealous loue
I doe repose more, then on all the world,
Thy beauteous selfe excepted: and to him,
Haue I committed my deere care of thee,
As to my genius, or my other soule,
Receiue him gentle loue, and what deffects
The time is enuious of our longer stay.
Farewell deere Rachel.
Rach:
Most deere Lord, adew,
Heauen and honour crowne your deeds, and you.
Exit Rachel.
Pau.
Faith tell me Angelio how dost thou like her?
Ang.
Troth well my Lord, but shall I speake my mind.
Pau.
I prithee doe.
Ang.
She is deriud too meanely to be wife
To such a noble person, in my iudgement.
Pau.
Nay then thy iudgement is to meane, I see,
Didst thou neare read in difference of good,
Tis more to shine in vertue then in bloud.
Enter Iaques.
Ang.
Come you are so sententious my Lord.
Pau.
Here comes her father. How dost thou good Iaques?
Ang.
God saue thee Iaques.
Iaq.
What should this meane? Rachel open the dore.
Exit Iaques.
Ang.
Sbloud how the poore slaue lookes, as though
He had bene haunted by the spirit Lar,
Or seene the ghost of some great Satrapas
In an vnsauory sheet.
Pau.
I muse he spake not, belike he was amazd
Comming so suddenly and vnprepard? Well lets go.
Exeunt.
| A Pleasant Comedy, Called :The Case is Altered | |