 | A Pleasant Comedy, called A Mayden-Head Well Lost |  |
Actus Secundus
Scena prima.
Enter Parma reading a Letter: after him Iulia.Par.
This Letter came from you, 'tis your Character.
Iul.
That hand in Contract you so long haue had,
Should not seeme strange to you now.
Par.
You are with-childe,
So doth your Letter say: what change your face?
Iu.
My blushes must speake for me.
Par.
And this Childe
You would bestow on me: y'are very liberall Lady,
You giue me more then I did meane to aske.
Iu.
And yet but what's your owne Sir, I am serious,
And it will ill become your Oathes and Vowes
To iest at my vndoeing.
Par.
You would say
Rather your doing.
Iu.
In doing thus, you should vndoe me quite.
Par.
What doe you weepe, that late did rayle in clamor?
Your thunders turnd to showres? It is most strange.
Iu.
You haue dishonoured me, and by your flattery
Haue rob'd me of my chaste Virginity:
Sauing the Churches outward Ceremony.
Par.
But Lady, you that would be wonne by me
To such an act of lust, would soone consent
Vnto another.
Iu.
Can this be found in man?
Par.
This Strozas language moues me, and I intend
To try what patience, constancy, and loue
There can be found in woman: why do you weepe?
You are not hungry, for your bellie's full;
Lady, be rul'd by me: take the aduice
A Doctor gaue a Gentleman of ate,
That sent to him to know, whether Tobacco
Were good for him or no: My friend quoth he,
If thou didst neuer loue it, neuer take it;
If thou didst euer loue it, neuer leaue it:
So I to thee; if thou wert as thou hast
Beene alwayes honest, I could wish thee still
So to continue; but being a broken Lady,
Your onely way's to make vse of your Talent,
Farewell, I'le to my Countrey.
Exit Parma.
Iu.
Oh miserable,
Let me but reckon vp ten thousand ills
My loosenesse hath committed, the aspersion
And scandalous reputation of my Childe,
My Father too, 'tmust come vnto his eare,
Oh—
Enter Milleine.
Duke.
Iulia.
Iu.
Away.
Duke.
Come hither, but one word.
Iu.
That all those blacke occurrents should conspire,
And end in my disgrace.
Duke.
Ha! what's the businesse?
Iu.
If all men were such,
I should be sorry that a man begot me,
Although he were my father.
Iulia, how's that?
Iul.
Oh Sir, you come to know whether Tobacco be good
for you or no; Ile tell you, if you neuer tooke it, neuer take it
then, or if you euer vs'd it, take it still; Nay, I'me an excellent
Phisitian growne of late I tell you.
Duke.
What meane these strange Anagrams?
I am thy Father and I loue thee sweete.
Iul.
Loue me thou dost not.
Duke
VVhy thou doest know I doe.
Iul.
I say thou doest not: lay no wager with me,
For if thou dost, there will be two to one
On my side against thee.
Duke.
Ha! I am thy Father,
Why Iulia?
Iu.
How my Father! then doe one thing
For me your Daughter.
Duke.
One thing? any thing,
By all things.
Iu.
Instantly then draw your sword,
And pierce me to the heart.
Duke.
I loue thee not so ill,
To be the Author of thy death.
Iu.
Nor I my selfe so well, as to desire
A longer life: if you be then my Father,
Punish a sinne that hath disgrac't your Daughter,
Scandald your blood, and poyson'd it with mud.
Duke.
Be plaine with vs.
Iu.
See, I am strumpeted,
A bastard issue growes within my wombe.
Duke.
VVhose fact?
Iu.
Prince Parmaes.
Duke.
Stroza.
Str.
My Lord.
Duke.
Search out
Prince Parma, bring the Traytour backe againe
Dead or aliue.
Str.
My Lord, he is a Prince.
No matter; for his head shall be the ransome
Of this foule Treason. When I say begon.
But as for thee base and degenerate—
Iul.
Doe shew your selfe a Prince: let her no longer
Liue, that hath thus disgrac't your Royall blood.
Duke.
Nature preuailes 'boue honour: her offence
Merits my vengeance, but the name of Childe
Abates my Swords keene edge: yet Royalty
Take th'vpper hand of pitty: kill the strumpet,
And be renown'd for Iustice.
Iul.
Strike, I'le stand.
Duke.
How easie could I period all my care,
Could I her kill, and yet her Infant spare:
A double Murder I must needes commit,
To ruine that which neuer offended yet.
Oh Heauen! in this I your assistance craue,
Punish the faulter, and the innocent saue.
Iul.
You are not true to your owne honour Father.
To let me longer liue.
Duke.
Oh Iulia, Iulia,
Thou hast ouerwhelm'd vpon my aged head
Mountaines of griefe, t'oppresse me to my graue.
Is Parma found?
Str.
My Lord, hee's priuately
Fled from the Court.
Duke.
Then flye thou after villaine.
Str.
Sir, are you madde?
Duke.
What's to be done? Alacke,
I cannot change a father and a Prince
Into a cruell Hang-man: tell me Iulia,
Is thy guilt yet but priuate to thy selfe?
Iul.
It is my Lord.
Duke.
Conceale it then: wee'le study
To salue thy honour, and to keepe thy loosenesse
From all the world conceal'd, compresse thy griefe,
And I will study how to shadow mine.
When Children 'gainst their Parents all things dare,
Yet Fathers still proue Fathers in their care.
Exeunt.
Enter Mother, Lauretta, and Clowne.
Moth.
Oh misery beyond comparison!
When saue the Heauens we haue no roofe at all
To shelter vs.
Clow.
That word all
Stickes more in my stomacke then my victuals can: For indeede
wee can get none to eate now; I told you, you were so
prodigall we should pinch for't.
Wife
What place may wee call this? what Clime? what Prouince?
Clow.
Why this is the Duke-dome of Florence, and this
is the Forrest where the hard-hearted Duke hunts many a
Hart: and there's no Deere so deare to him, but hee'le kill it:
as goodly a large place to starue in, as your Ladiship can desire
to see in a Summers day.
Wife
Yet here, since no man knowes vs, no man can
Deride our misery: better dye staru'd,
Then basely begge.
Clow.
How better starue then begge; all the Ladies of
Florence shal neuer make me of that beleefe. I had rather beg
a thousand times, then starue once, doe you scorne begging?
Your betters doe not, no Madam; get me a Snap-sacke, I'le
to Florence: I'le make all the high wayes ring of me with for
the Lords sake. I haue studied a Prayer for him that giues,
and a Poxe take him that giues nothing: I haue one for the
Horse-way, another for the Foote-way, and a third for the
turning-stile. No Madam, begging is growne a gentleman-like
Calling here in our Countrey.
Wife
I haue yet one poore piece of Gold reseru'd,
Step to the Village by and fetch some Wine.
Clow.
You had better keepe your Gold, and trust to my
begging Oratory, yet this is the worst they can say to mee,
Exit Clowne.
Wife
Here's a strange change: we must be patient,
Yet can I not but weepe thinking on thee.
Lau.
Madam on me? there is no change of Fortune
Can puffe me or deiect me; I am all one
In rich abundance and penurious want:
So little doe my miseries vexe me,
Or the faire Princesse wrong, that I will end
My passions in a Song.
A Song.
Sound Hornes within.
Wife
It seemes the Duke is Hunting in the Forrest,
Here let vs rest our selues, and listen to
Their Tones, for nothing but mishap here lies;
Sing thou faire Childe, I'le keepe tune with my eyes.
Winde hornes. And enter the Prince of Florence & Mounsieur.
Prince
This way the voyce was, let vs leaue the Chace.
Moun.
Behold my Lord two sad deiected Creatures
Throwne on the humble verdure.
Prince
Hee's beauty mixt with teares, that pouerty
Was neuer bred in Cottage: I'le farther question
Their state and fortune.
Wife
Wee're discouered,
Daughter arise.
Prince
What are you gentle Creatures?
Nay answere not in teares.
If you by casuall losse, or by the hand
Of Fortune haue beene crusht beneath these sorrowes,
He demands your griefe
That hath as much will as ability
To succour you, and for your owne faire sake;
Nay beautious Damsell, you neede not question that.
Lau.
If by the front we may beleeue the heart,
Or by the out-side iudge the inward vertue:
You faire Sir, haue euen in your selfe alone
All that this world can promise; for I ne're
Beheld one so compleate; and were I sure
You would not mocke our misery: I would relate
A Tale should make you weepe.
Prince.
Sweete if the Prologue
To thy sad passion mooue thus: what will the Sceane
And tragicke act it selfe doe? Is than Gentlewoman
Your Mother sweete?
Lau.
My wretched Mother Sir.
Prince.
Pray of what Prouince?
Lau.
Milleine.
Prince.
What fortune there?
Lau.
My Father was a Noble Gentleman,
Rank't with the best in Birth, and which did adde
To all his other vertues, a bold Souldier;
But when he dy'de—
Prince.
Nay, proceede beauteous Lady,
How was your Father stil'd?
Lau.
To tell you that,
Were to exclaime vpon my Prince, my Countrey,
And their Ingratitude: For he being dead,
With him our fortunes and our hopes both fail'd;
My Mother loath to liue ignobly base,
Where once she flourisht, hauing spent her meanes
Not loosely nor in riot, but in the honour
Of her dead Husband: left th'ingratefull Land,
Rather to spend her yeares in pouerty,
Mongst those that neuer knew her height of Fortune,
Then with her thankelesse Friends and Countrey-men,
Fled here to perish.
Prince.
More then her Charming beauty
Her passion moues me: where inhabit you?
Lau.
Here, euery where.
Prince.
Beneath these Trees?
Lau.
We haue
No other roofe then what kinde Heauen lends.
Prince.
Gentle Creature,
I should haue found it in your face and gesture.
Mounsieur.
Mounsieur
My Lord.
Prince
Goe winde thy Horne abroad, and call to vs
Some of our traine: we pitty these two Ladies,
And we will raise their hope: Cheere you old Madam,
You shall receiue some bounty from a Prince.
Enter a Hunts-man.
Who keepes the Lodge below?
Hunts.
Your Highnesse Hunts-man.
Prince
Command him to remoue, and instantly
We giue it to these Ladies: besides, adde
Vnto our Guest three thousand pounds a yeare:
We'le see it furnisht too with Plate and Hangings.
'Las pretty Maide, your Father's dead you say,
We'le take you now to our owne Patronage,
And trust me Lady, while wee'ne Prince of Florence,
You shall not want nor foode, nor harborage.
Wife
Pardon Great Sir, this our neglect of duty
Vnto a Prince so gracious and compleate
In vertuous indowments.
Lau.
To excuse
Our former negligence, behold I cast
Me at your foote.
Prince
Arise sweete, pray your name?
Lau.
Lauretta.
Prince
Faire Laurrett, you shall be henceforth ours,
Oh Mounsieur! I ne're saw where I could loue
Till now.
Moun.
How now my Lord, remember pray,
What you are to this poore deiected Maide.
Prince
Well Mounsieur, well; when e're I match, pray Heauen,
We loue so well: but loue and toyle hath made vs
Enter Clowne.
Clow.
Nay, now I thinke I haue fitted you with a Cup of
Nipsitato.
Moun.
How now sirrah, what are you?
Clow.
What am I? Nay what art thou?
I thinke youle proue little better then a smell-smocke,
That can finde out a pretty wench in such a Corner.
Wife
Peace sirrah, 'tis the Prince.
Clow.
What if he be? he may loue a Wench as well as another
man.
Prince
What hast thou there?
Clow.
A bottle of Wine and a Manchet that my Lady sent
me for.
Prince
Thou ne're couldst come to vs in better time,
Reach it vs Mounsieur.
Moun.
Your bottle quickly sirrah, come I say.
Clow.
Yes, when? can you tell? doe you thinke I am such
an Asse, to part so lightly with my liquor? Know thou my
friend, before I could get this bottle fill'd, I was glad to
change a piece of Gold, and call for the rest againe. And doe
you thinke I'le loose my liquor, and haue no Gold nor rest againe?
Not so my Friend, not so.
Moun.
There's Gold sir.
Clow.
Madam, will you giue me a Licence to sell VVine?
I could get no Pirate in the Forrest but a woodden Dish.
Wife
Fill to the Prince Lauretta.
Lau.
Will it please
Your Highnesse drinke out of a woodden Mazer?
Prince
Yes sweete with thee in any thing: you know
Wee are a Prince, and you shall be our taster.
Lau.
Why should I loue this Prince? his bounteous gifts
Exalt me not, but make me much more poore,
I'me more deiected then I was before.
Wife
Sir.
Lady, thankes: I feare me he is caught,
But if he be, my Counsell must diuert him.
Clow.
The bottome of the bottle is at your seruice Sir,
Shall you and I part stakes?
Moun.
There's more Gold for you.
Clow.
I had rather you had broke my pate then my draught,
but harke you Sir, are you as a man should say, a belonger to?
Hunt.
A belonger to? what's that sir?
Clow.
Oh ignorant! are you a follower?
Hunt.
I seldome goe before when my betters are in place.
Clow.
A Seruing-man I take it.
Hunt.
Right sir.
Clow.
I desire you the more complement: I haue the courtesie
of the Forrest for you.
Hunt.
And I haue the courtesie of the Court for you sir.
Clow.
That's to bring me to the Buttery hatch, and neuer
make me drinke.
Prince
Sirrah, conduct those Ladies to the Lodge,
And tell the Keeper we haue stor'd for him,
A better fortune; you shall heare further from vs,
You vsher them.
Hunt.
Come Ladies will you walke?
Clow.
How now sawce-boxe, know your manners: was
not I Gentleman vsher before you came? Am not I hee that
did the bottle bring? Come Ladies follow me.
Exit Clowne with Ladies, with Huntsman.
Moun.
Your purpose Sir, is to loue this Lady,
And hazard all your hopes.
Prince
Oh gentle Friend,
Why was I borne high? but to raise their hopes
That are deiected: so much for my bounty.
Moun.
But for your loue.
Prince
It is with no intent
To make the Maide my wife, because I know
Her fortunes cannot equall mine.
Moun.
Then 'twere more dishonorable
Prince
Still thou mistak'st, mine
Is honourable loue, and built on vertue;
Nor would I for the Emperours Diademe,
Corrupt her whom I loue.
Moun.
Braue Prince I'me glad
That ere I kept thy Company.
Prince
Come Mounsieur, night steales on, not many yeares
Shall passe me, but I purpose to reuisite
This my new Mistresse, my auspicious fate
To thee my happy loue I consecrate.
Exeunt.
A Dumbe show. Enter the Duke of Milleins, a Midwife with a young Childe, and after them Stroza: the Duke shewes the Childe to Stroza, hee takes it: then the Duke sweares them both to secrecy vpon his Sword, and exit with the Midwife: then Stroza goes to hide it, and Parma dogs him: when hee hath laide the Childe in a Corner, he departs in haste, and Parma takes vp the Childe, and speakes.
Par.
Thou shouldst be mine: and durst I for my Head
Euen in the open Court I'de challenge thee,
But I haue so incenst th'offended Duke,
And layd such heauy spots vpon her head,
I cannot doo't with safety: methinkes this Child
Doth looke me in the face, as if 'twould call
Me Father, and but this suspected Stroza
Stuft my too credulous eares with iealousies.
For thee sweete Babe I'le sweare, that if not all,
Part of my blood runnes in thy tender veynes,
For those few drops I will not see the perish;
Be it for her sake whom once I lou'd,
And shall doe euer: Oh iniurious Stroza!
I now begin to feare; for this sweete Babe
Hath in his face no bastardy, but shewes
This will I keepe as charie as her honour,
The which I prize aboue the Vniuerse.
Though she were forc't to be vnnaturall,
I'le take to me this Infants pupillage;
Nor yet resolu'd, till I a way haue found
To make that perfect which is yet vnsound.
Exit.
Explicit Actus Secundus.
| A Pleasant Comedy, called A Mayden-Head Well Lost | |