University of Virginia Library

Scene. 6

Ferret.
Lovel. Host. Cicelie.
Your horses Sir are ready; and the house
Dis—

Lou.
Pleas'd, thou thinkst?

Fer.
I cannot tel, dischargd
I'am sure it is.

Lou.
Charge it again, good Ferret.
And make vnready the horses: Thou knowst how.
Chalke, and renew the rondels, I am, now
Resolu'd to stay.

Fer.
I easily thought so,
When you should heare what's purpos'd.

L.
What?

Fer.
To throw
The house out o'the windo?

Host.
Braine o'man,
I shall ha'the worst o'that! will they not throw
My houshold stuffe out, first? Cushions, and Carpets,
Chaires, stooles, & bedding? is not their sport my ruine?

Lov.
Feare not, mine host, I am not o'the fellowship.

Fer.
I cannot see, Sir, how you will auoid it;
They know already all, you are i'the house.

Lov.
Who know?

F.
The Lords: they haue seene me, & enquir'd it.

Lov.
Why were you seene?

Fer
Because indeed I had
No med'cine, Sir, to goe inuisible:
No Ferne-seed in my pocket; Nor an Opal
Wrapt in a Bay-leafe, i'my left fist,
To charme their eyes with.

H.
He dos giue you reasons
As round as Giges ring: which, say the Ancients,
Was a hoop ring; and that is, round as a hoop!

Lov.
You will ha'your Rebus still, mine host.

Hos.
I must:

Fer.
My Lady, too, lookt out o'the windo, & cal'd me.
And see where Secretary Pru. comes from her,
Ent. Pru.
Emploi'd vpon some Ambassy vnto you—

Host.
Ile meet her, if she come vpon emploiment;
Faire Lady, welcome, as your host can make you.

Pru.
Forbeare, Sir, I am first to haue mine audience,
Before the complement. This gentleman
Is my addresse to.

Host.
And it is in state.

Pru.
My Lady, Sir, as glad o'the encounter
To finde a seruant, here, and such a seruant,
Whom she so values; with her best respects,
Desires to be remembred: and inuites
Your noblenesse, to be a part, to day,
Of the society, and mirth intended
By her, and the yong Lords, your fellow-seruants.
Who are alike ambitious of enioying
The faire request; and to that end haue sent
Me, their imperfect Orator, to obtaine it:
Which if I may, they haue elected me,
And crown'd me, with the title of a soueraigne
Of the dayes sports deuised i'the Inne,
So you be pleas'd to adde your suffrage to it.

Lov.
So I be pleas'd, my gentle mistresse Prudence?
You cannot thinke me of that course condition,
T'enuy you any thing.

Host.
That's nobly say'd!
And like my ghest!

Lov.
I gratulate your honor;
And should, with cheare, lay hold on any handle,
That could aduance it. But for me to thinke,
I can be any rag, or particle
O'your Ladyes care, more then to fill her list,
She being the Lady, that professeth still
To loue no soule, or body, but for endes;
Which are her sports: And is not nice to speake this:
But doth proclame it, in all companies:
Her Ladiship must pardon my weake counsels,
And weaker will, if it decline t'obay her.

Pru.
O master Louel you must not giue credit
To all that Ladies publiquely professe,
Or talke, o'th vollee, vnto their seruants.
Their tongues and thoughts, oft times lie far asunder.
Yet, when they please, they haue their cabinet-counsels
And reserud thoughts, and can retire themselues.
As well as others.

Host.
I, the subtlest of vs!
Al that is borne within a Ladies lips—

Pru.
Is not the issue of their hearts, mine host.

Hos.
Or kisse, or drinke afore me.

Pru.
Stay, excuse me:
Mine errand is not done. Yet, if her Ladyships
Slighting, or disesteeme, Sir, of your seruice,
Hath formerly begot any distaste,
Which I not know of: here, I vow vnto you,
Vpon a Chambermaids simplicity,
Reseruing, still, the honour of my Lady,
I will be bold to hold the glasse vp to her,
To shew her Ladyship where she hath err'd,
And how to tender satisfaction:
So you vouchsafe to proue, but the dayes venter.

Ho.
What say you, Sir? where are you? are you within?

Lov.
Yes: I will waite vpon her, and the company.

Hos.
It is enough, Queene Prudence; I will bring him:
And, o'this kisse. I long'd to kisse a Queene!

Lov.
There is no life on earth, but being in loue!
There are no studies, no delights, no businesse,
No entercourse, or trade of sense, or soule,
But what is loue! I was the laziest creature,
The most vnprofitable signe of nothing,
The veriest drone, and slept away my life
Beyond the Dormouse, till I was in loue!
And, now, I can out-wake the Nightingale,
Out-watch an vsurer, and out-walke him too,
Stalke like a ghost, that haunted 'bout a treasure,
And all that phant'si'd treasure, it is loue!

Host.
But is your name Loue-ill, Sir, or Loue-well?
I would know that.

Lov.
I doe not know't my selfe,
Whether it is. But it is Loue hath beene
The hereditary passion of our house,
My gentle host, and, as I guesse, my friend;
The truth is, I haue lou'd this Lady long,
And impotently, with desire enough,
But no successe: for I haue still forborne
To expresse it, in my person, to her.

Hos.
How then?

Lov.
I ha' sent her toyes, verses, and Anagram's,
Trials o' wit, mere trifles she has commended,
But knew not whence they came, nor could she guesse.

Host.
This was a pretty ridling way of wooing!

Lov.
I oft haue bene, too, in her company;
And look'd vpon her, a whole day; admird her;
Lou'd her, and did not tell her so; lou'd still,
Look'd still, and lou'd: and lou'd, and look'd, and sigh'd;
But, as a man neglected, I came of,
And vnregarded—

Host.
Could you blame her, Sir,
When you were silent, and not said a word?

Lov.
O but I lou'd the more; and she might read it
Best, in my silence, had she bin—

Host.
As melancholique
As you are. 'Pray you, why would you stand mute, Sir?

Lov.
O thereon hangs a history, mine host.
Did you euer know, or heare, of the Lord Beaufort,
Who seru'd so brauely in France? I was his page,
And, ere he dy'd, his friend! I follow'd him,
First, i'the warres; and i'the times of peace,
I waited on his studies: which were right.
He had no Arthurs, nor no Rosicleer's,
No Knights o'the Sunne, nor Amadis de Gaule's,
Primalions, and Pantagruel's, publique Nothings:
Abortiues of the fabulous, darke cloyster,
Sent out to poison courts, and infest manners:
But great Achilles, Agamemnons acts,
Sage Nestors counsels, and Ulysses slights,
Tydides fortitude, as Homer wrought them
In his immortall phant'sie, for examples
Of the Heroick vertue. Or, as Virgil,
That master of the Epick poeme, limn'd
Pious Æneas, his religious Prince,
Bearing his aged Parent on his shoulders,
Rapt from the flames of Troy, with his yong sonne.
And these he brought to practise, and to vse.
He gaue me first my breeding, I acknowledge,
Then showr'd his bounties on me, like the Howres,
That open-handed sit vpon the Clouds,
And presse the liberality of heauen
Downe to the laps of thankfull men! But then!
The trust committed to me, at his death,
Was aboue all! and left so strong a tye
On all my powers! as time shall not dissolue!
Till it dissolue it selfe, and bury all!
The care of his braue heire, and only sonne!
Who being a vertuous, sweet, yong, hopefull Lord,
Hath cast his first affections on this Lady.
And though I know, and may presume her such,
As, out of humor, will returne no loue;
And therefore might indifferently be made
The courting-stock, for all to practise on,
As she doth practise on all vs, to scorne:
Yet, out of a religion to my charge,
And debt profess'd, I ha'made a selfe-decree,
Nere to expresse my person; though my passion
Burne me to cinders.

Host.
Then yo'are not so subtle,
Or halfe so read in loue-craft, as I tooke you.
Come, come, you are no Phœnix, an' you were,
I should expect no miracle from your ashes.
Take some aduice. Be still that rag of loue,
You are. Burne on till you turne tinder.
This Chambermaid may hap to proue the steele,
To strike a sparkle out o'the flint, your mistresse
May beget bonfires yet, you doe not know,
What light may be forc'd out, and from what darknes.

Lov.
Nay, I am so resolu'd, as still Ile loue
Tho' not confesse it.

Host.
That's, Sir, as it chances:
Wee'll throw the dice for it: Cheare vp.

Lov.
I doe.