 | A Pleasant Comedy, called A Mayden-Head Well Lost |  |
Actus Quartus.
A Dumbe shew. Enter at one doore, the Duke of Millaine, Iulia, Stroza, and a Bishop: At the other doore, the Duke of Florens, the Prince and Mounsieur, with attendants: Then the Bishop takes their hands and makes signes to marry them, and then the Prince speakes.Prince.
Stay till we be resolu'd.
Florens.
What meanes our sonne?
Princ.
Not to be gull'd by the best Prince in Europe;
Much lesse by Millaine.
Millaine.
Sir, be plaine with vs.
Prin.
I much suspect that Ladies Chastity.
Millaine.
Hers.
Prin.
I haue said.
Stroza.
Ther's Worme-wood.
Millaine.
I came in termes of Honour,
Brought with me, all my comforts here on earth,
My daughter; to bestow her on thy son:
Poore Lady, innocently comming, forsaking all,
Father and Countrey, to betake her selfe
Vnto his bosome; and is she for all this,
Branded with shame?
Who can accuse her, speake? what probabilities?
What ground? the place? the meanes? the season how
Shee did become corrupt?
Prince.
Sir, so we haue heard.
Stro.
Produce the witnesse; and behould, I stand
The Champion for her honour, and will auerre
Her Chaste, aboue degree; infinitely honest:
Oh Prince! what, can you ground such iniury
Vpon vaine heare-say? Speake for your selfe, take spirit.
Apart to her selfe.
Iulia.
Came we thus farre, to be thus wrong'd?
Stro.
Was the slaue neuer Christen'd, hath hee no name?
Iulia.
Haue you sent for me, to accuse me heere
In this strange Clime? It is not Princely done.
Prince.
O Heauen, how am I perplext!
Floren.
Sonne, Sonne, you wrong
Your selfe and me too, to accuse a Lady
Of such high birth and fame; vnlesse you confesse
Your selfe to haue err'd, you needs must forfeit vs.
Moun.
My Lord, yeeld to your father, lest you draw
His wrath vpon you.
Prince.
Well, since I must, I will:
Your pardon, Royall Father: Yours faire Princesse:
And yours great Duke;
If I shall find my selfe truely to haue err'd,
I shall confesse your chastity much iniur'd.
Iulia.
Submission is to me full recompence.
Milla.
My daughters honour?
Stro.
Doe not stand off my Lord,
If she be wrong'd, shee's not much behind-hand.
Milla.
Oh let me alone Stroza.
Flor.
Nay, good Brother
Accept him as your Sonne.
Milla.
My hearts no closet for reuenge; tis done.
Prin.
Now heare my protestations: I receiue
This Ladies hand on these Conditions;
Know her selfe faulty, Oh confesse it here,
Before the Ceremonies fasten on me: for if hereafter
I find you once corrupted? by this right hand,
My future hopes, my Fathers royalty,
And all the honours due vnto our house,
Ile haue as many liues and heads for it,
As he hath Manners Castles, Liues and Towres;
It shall be worthy to be bookt in Chronicles
Of all strange tongues: And therefore beautious Lady,
As you esteeme a Prince his name or honour,
That youd be a Mecenas vnto vertue;
If in the least of these you guilty be,
Pull backe your hand.
Stro.
What if you find her chaste?
Prin.
If chaste? she shall be dearer farre to me,
Then my owne soule: I will respect her honour,
Equall with that of my great Ancestours;
All this I vow, as I am Prince and vertuous.
Stro.
Then ioyne their hands.
Prin.
Shee's mine: Set forwards then.
Exeunt all but Stroza.
Stro.
All goes not well, This iugling will be found,
Then where am I then? would I were safe in Millaine.
Here Matchiuell th'wast hatcht: Could not the same
Planet inspire this pate of mine with some
Rare stratagem, worthy a lasting Character:
No, 'twill not be; my braine is at a non-plus,
For I am dull.
Enter Millaine.
Milla.
Stroza.
Stro.
My Lord.
Milla.
Oh now, or neuer Stroza!
I am turn'd Foole, Asse, Iddeott; Are they married?
Milla.
Yes, and the Prince after the Ceremonie,
Imbrac'd her louingly.
Stro.
But the hell is,
That they must lie together, ther's the Deuill.
Milla.
And then—
Stro.
And then we are disgrac'd and sham'd.
Milla.
Canst thou not help't man?
Stro.
Why you would make
A man—midwife, woo'd you? I haue no skill.
Milla.
Stroza, awake, th'art drowsie.
Stro.
Peace, interrupt me not,
I ha'te: so to reuenge mee vpon her
Whom most I hate. To Strumpet her 'twere braue.
Milla.
Counsell aduise me.
Stro.
Youle make me mad my Lord:
And in this sweet reuenge, I am not onely
Pleas'd (with iust satisfaction for all wrongs)
But the great Prince most palpably deceiu'd.
Milla.
The time runs on,
Thinke on my honor Stroza.
Stro.
If youle eate grapes vnripe, edge your owne teeth,
Ile stay the mellow'd season doo't your selfe,
Vnlesse you giue me time for't.
Milla.
But thinke with mine, on thine owne safety Stroza.
Stro.
Peace, giue me way my Lord, so shall the Prince
Bee palpably deceiu'd, Faire Iulia's honor
Most prosperously deseru'd, The Duke my master,
Freed from all blame, Warre hindred, Peace confirm'd,
And I secur'd; Oh I am fortunate
Beyond imagination!
Milla.
O deare Stroza,
Helpe now, or neuer!
Stro.
Hee was a meere Asse
That rais'd Troys Horse: 'twas a pritty structure.
Oh mee!
Stro.
Synon, a foole, I can doe more
With precious Gold, then hee with whining Teares.
Milla.
Oh my tormented soule!
Stro.
Pray my Lord, giue mee
Fiue hundred crownes.
Milla.
What to doe with them man?
Stro.
See how you stand on trifles; when our liues,
Your honour; all our fortunes lie a bleeding:
What shall I haue the Gold?
Milla.
Thy purpose preethee?
Stro.
I know a desolate Lady, whom with Gold
I can corrupt.
Milla.
There are fiue hundred Crownes,
Snroza bethinke thee what thou vndertak'st,
Such an Act, would make huge Atlas bend his head
Vnto his heele.
Stro.
But say I cannot win her,
They bide the brunt of all, heere let them stay,
With these fiue hundred Crownes Ile poast away.
Exit Stroza, and Duke.
Enter Mother, Daughter, and Clowne.
Clow.
Maddam, yonder's a Gentleman comes to speake with
you in all hast.
Lauret.
Admit him in.
Enter Stroza.
Stro.
Lady bee happy, and from this blest houre
Euer reioyce faire Virgin, for I bring you
Gold, and Inlargement; with a recouerie
Of all your former losse, and dignitie,
But for a two houres labour: Nay, that no labour
Nor toyle, but a meere pleasure.
Lau.
Your words like musick, please me with delight,
Beyond imagination: Offered to vs?
Therefore good sir, delay not with long complement,
But tell these hopes more plaine.
Stro.
Haue wee not heere
Too many cares?
Lauret.
Wee would bee priuate sirra,
And therefore leaue vs.
Exit. Clowne.
Stro.
You haue seene the Prince of Florence?
Lauret.
Yes, I haue.
Stro.
Is he not for his Feature, Beauty, Goodnesse,
The most Compleate? So absolute in all things.
Lauret.
All this is granted.
Stro.
How happy doe you thinke that Lady then
That shall Inioy him? Nay, that shall bee the first
To prooue him,
And exchange Virginitie,
Were 't not bright Lady a great happinesse?
Lauret.
I wish that happinesse were mine alone,
Oh my faint heart: Passion ouer-swayes me quite,
But hide thy griefe Lauretta: Sir, you'le make
Me fall in loue with him: Were I his equall,
I then should iudge him worthy of no lesse.
Stro.
Loue him: What 's she doth not, if shee haue eyes?
Were I my selfe a Woman: I would lay
My selfe a prostitute vnto the Prince:
Shee is not wise that would refuse him Lady.
Lauret.
Good Sir bee briefe:
To what pray tends these speeches?
Stro.
To thee sweete Lady: I offer all these pleasures,
Oh happie fate that hath selected mee
To be your raiser: Lady take this gold,
But that's not all: For there are greater honours
Prepared for you; the Duke of Millaine doth
Commend him to you: Iulia his daughter
Hath in her honour late miscarried,
Wife.
Who? Lies this in my daughter?
Stro.
Yes, in her,
Shee hath the power to make the Duke her friend,
Iulia her sister, and all Millaine bound
To offer vp for her their Orrisons.
Lauret.
Good Sir bee plaine.
Stro.
This night lie with the Prince
In Iulia's stead: There's way made for you,
Who would not woo, for what you are wooed too?
Lauret.
Doe you not blush, when you deliuer this
Pray tell the Duke, all Women are not Iulia,
And though wee bee deiected, thus much tell him,
Wee hold our honour at too high a price,
For Gold to buy.
Stro.
Nay Lady, heare mee out;
You shall preserue her honour, gaine the Duke,
Redeeme your fortunes: Strengthen you in friends,
You shall haue many Townes and Turrets standing,
Which future Warre may ruine: Thinke on that.
Wife.
Lauretta, oh behold thy mothers teares!
Thinke on thy Father, and his honour wonne,
And call to mind our exile: All the wrongs
Wee haue indured by her, to whom wee gane
No cause, and now are plundg'd in a deepe streame.
Which not resisted, will for euer blemish
The name of Sforsa thy great Ancestors,
Thou 'lt waken thy dead Father from his graue,
And cause his honour'd wounds which hee receiu'd
From that vnthankfull Duke, to bleede afresh,
Powring out new blood from's grisly wounds,
If thou consentest to this abhorred fact,
Thy Mothers curse will seaze on thee for euer:
Oh child, behold me on my knees: Ile follow thee;
Oh doe not leaue me thus, and pull on thee
Thy former Vertues, for the momentarie
Short pleasures of one night.
Stro.
She doth not councell well; 'tis foolish rashnes,
Womanish Indiscretion.
Lauret.
Sir bee answered,
If Iulia bee disloyall: Let her bee found
So by the Prince she wedds: Let her be branded
With the vile name of strumpet: Shee disgrac'd
Mee, that nere thought her harmes; publikely strucke mee,
Nay in the Court: And after that, procur'd
My banishment: These Iniuries I reap't
By her alone, then let it light on her.
Stro.
Now see your errour,
What better; safer, or more sweete reuenge,
Then with the Husband? what more could woman aske?
Lauret.
My blood rebells against my reason, and
I no way can withstand it: 'Tis not the Gold
Mooues mee, but that deere loue I beare the Prince,
Makes me neglect the credit and the honour
Of my deare Fathers house: Sir, what the Duke desires
I am resolued to doe his vtmost will.
Wife.
Oh my deare daughter.
Lauret.
Good Mother speake not, for my word is past,
And cannot bee recall'd, Sir will you away?
I am resolute.
Stro.
Shee yeeldes vnto her shame; which makes me blest,
Let Millions fall, so I bee crown'd with rest.
Wife.
Oh mee, vnhappie, that nere knew griefe till now.
Exeunt.
Musicke. A Dumbe Shew. Enter Millaine, to him Stroza, and brings in Lauretta masked, the Duke takes her and puts her into the Bed, and Exit.
Enter againe with the Prince to bring him to bed: They cheere him on, and others snatch his Pointes, and so Exit. The Dukes Imbrace, and Exeunt.
| A Pleasant Comedy, called A Mayden-Head Well Lost | |