University of Virginia Library

Scena prima.

Enter Lo. Bonavide and the Clowne.
Bona.
After our tedious travells wee at length
Are safe arriv'd in England, speake what use
Hast made of our long Voyage?

Clow.

Such as Travellers use, for by long practise I am now at
length growne perfect, and the truth is I can lie in any language.


Bona.
But in our quest of this rare piece of beauty
And Vertue mixt, to rivall the great Princesse,
What thinkest thou of our triall made in Spaine?

Clow.

I thinke of it as I ever did, that's as of a bottle of hay,
and the Creature you talke of, a Needle a very Spanish Needle,
which I feare you wil never live to hit ful in the eie: Spayne! there
are so many Mores int, that I know you would hope of nothing
lesse: besides the most beauties of Spaine have been oft in Civill.


Bona.

What then of Portugall?


Clow.

Worse then the tother: the Women there are for the
most part like their Orindges, the fayrer the outside the rottenner
within, and the sounder at the heart, the rougher the skinne;
the Country is too hot, too hot.


Bona.

What of the Russian then?


Clow.

As of a Country too cold, and in cold countries I know
we should have but cold comfort, besides the women goe wrapt
in so much fur, that of necessity they must have more haire then
wit, besides they cannot be wise they have so much adoo to keep
themselves warme, and more than that, what might the Prince



and Princesse thinke, if after all our long travells, wee should
come home, and present them with a rush?


Bona.
Which only taking her great title of
Is worth more than her selfe, of Italy
Then give me thy true censure.

Clow.

The cleane contrary way, oh, my Lord, there are so
many Italian Locks, that I know it was unpossible your owne
key should open them all. Moreover these that are naturally
jealous of their women, it is probable their women naturally give
them cause.


Bona.

For France.


Clow.

What the pox should we speake of that, knowing what
is bred in the bone, will hardly out of the flesh?


Bona.

The women of high Germany?


Clow.

A place that I should highly stand for, if the Princesse
had impos'd on us a chalenge for drinking.


Bona.

Of the Low-Countries then.


Clow.

In Flushing, there is good riding, but not without danger.
For many at a high tide, have beene like to have beene cast
away in the road. At Middleborough, night or day you could
scarce finde the Exchange empty. At Bristles, if you remember
you were us'd but roughly: At Sluce we were both well wash't,
Nimmingham bid you looke to your Skonce: and Ostend, beware
the Cat. Don-hague is full of Witches, and had wee but
tutcht at Rot or Dam, ten to one we had never come off sound
men. Much adoo wee had to finde New-Port: Therefore if
ever you come to Bergen, see you make it wisely.


Bona.
And now, there's hope I shall, this Albion
That fitly beares name of his chalky cliffs,
Breeds wondrous choyse of Beauties, wise, and lovely,
Scarce to be match't in all the world besides,
'Mongst which I have took particular view of one,
Whom had the Trojan Ravisher beheld,
Troy had still stood, the Queene of Love disgrac't,
And she alone had gain'd the golden prize,
For which the three celestiall beauties strove.

Clow.

I grant you the face, but if shee should prove rotten at
the heart, there's the question.


Bona.
I thinke none to be made. First for her birth,


I have inquir'd her noble: For her breeding,
It hath been 'mongst her equalls, and so farre
From least taxation, to the sayle of tongues,
It merits imitation; of her chastity
Some proofes I have made, and found it like the Diamond,
Save by a Diamond never to be wrought.
Could opportunity have mov'd, words tempted,
Perswasions tooke effect, or guifts prevail'd,
Beneath my much importance she had falne:
But like a promontory rocke shee stands,
At all the curled Oceans wrath unmov'd,
Telling the gusts, and bearing every storme,
Yet on such vertues are her bases fixt,
Shee is not to be shaken, then in her
My travells take their period.

Clow.

Then I would shee and you were agreed, that you
might come to a full poynt: and here shee comes, now or never
make a full conclusion, and write Finis.


Enter Leonera and her Daughter.
Leo.
Daughter,
What thinke you of this stranger?

Helle.
As a stranger.

Leo.
Of his carriage and complement.

Helle.
As things for which he hath travell'd, 'tis easie
For him that hath the liberty of many
Grounds to picke himselfe a choyse Nosegay,
And hee that hath travell'd so many Countries,
Out of every one peculiarizing what's best;
With what small difficulty may such a one
Appeare complementall?

Leo.
His proffers to you were large.

Helle.
And the performance may perhaps prove like
His journey, long.

Leo.
What thinke you of his person?

Helle.
That there's many one cannot pray so well as
He, that is better benefic't.



Leo.

But say hee had power to performe all that hee hath
promised.


Helle.
Onely this, that I have power in my selfe to say
More then I have yet either promis'd him, or
You to utter.

Clow.

Did you not heare her talke of utter, for shame Sir,
either utter your minde now to the full, or else utterly give
it over.


Bona.
Madam, What say you to my suit?

Helle.
I needes must say Sir, it becomes you well,
Graces your person, and your person it:
I like both Stuffe and fashion.

Bona.
Oh, sweet Lady,
'Tis good to play with such as use to sport,
But with the staid be serious.

Clow.

Now whilst they are in talke, will I hold some discourse
or other with the old Gentlewoman: because shee shall
not interrupt them.

May it please your old Ladiship—

Hee takes her aside.
Leo.
Out of this fellow, I may finde perhaps
That which his Master would have loath reveald,
I'le joyne with him in conference.

Helle.
Since you tax me of jest, I charge you Sir
Henceforth to speake all earnest, or stand mute,

Bona.
I vow it by my greatest blisse on earth,
(My hopes I have in you.)

Helle.
Ile try your faith,
Have you in all the countries you have travell'd
Never made proofe of Lady?

Bona.
Yes, in all,
And in each clime, of many.

Helle.

Nay, I thought what I should finde you, trust a strangers
love as gold to court the winde. If then such numbers,

Why, after all these trialls make you me
The last of all your t'sales?

Bona.
Last of my hopes,
Or period of my wishes, had you said,
I should have answered then, onely because


Of all you are most perfect.

Helle.
Now you flatter.

Leo.
A Lord said'st thou?

Clowne.
I, and I assure your Ladiship, ally'de to the best
Grandoes of Spaine, nay more then so,—

Bona.
As I confesse you perfect, I intreate
Let not my merited prayses make you proud,
And vie your owne worth; I shall wonder then:
Know Madam, that I left my Countrey Spaine,
And there my many honours, not of pleasure,
But by compulsive force, unwillingly,
My voyage purposely to find out you,
Which ere I could, I have travell'd Kingdomes through,
Search'd Courts, examin'd Cities, nay even Villages.

Helle.
For mee?

Bona.
For you; for the chiefe Paragon
Of Beautie match't with Vertue; therefore you
For one to rivall the great Spanish Princesse,
Matchlesse in both, through halfe the world, save you,
Indeede I flatter not, you are that Myne,
(Oh Lady, might I truely say that Mine:)
No India yeelds, save this, but thine; the sunne
To out-shine that candle, none but this cleere splendor,
Dimmes her imperfect glories; You by this
Shall winne your selfe a name through all the world,
And purchase admiration: mee that so
Have prys'd you, and esteem'd you, marking you
Mongst thousands, for a piece unparralleld:
Before all things, my Countrey, Honors, Friends,
That else like a poore exile forfeit all,
And Lady, you the cause on't: If my Love,
Grounded upon such strong opinion
Merit repulse; if you will loose your selfe,
And hazard mee, that have my head ingag'd
To make this good: I onely shall report
The strangest thing in my long search I finde,
Beautie with Vertue mixt, prov'd both unkinde.

Helle.
Which should I be?—pray give me leave to pause,


And then expect my answere.

Leo.
And hath hee chus'd her out amongst so many?

Clow.

Yes, and meanes to make her a great Lady, to possesse
her of all his fortunes, to put downe all the prime Ladies of
Spaine: and for Beautie and Vertue, to bee preferr'd before the
great Princesse her selfe.


Leo.
To this, should shee not willingly assent,
Shee were no more my daughter.

Bona.
Now, your answere.

Helle.
Should this be true, that you preferre this face
Before the beauties of so many clymes:
And that your life and meanes soly depend,
There to expose it freely, I should much
Digresse from honor, to neglect such love,
And should I not in unseene Vertue strive
To equall that seene beautie you so prayse,
I should then much wrong that great character
You have bestow'd upon mee.

Leo.
Which you shall not;
Daughter, I say you shall not; Sir, shee's yours,
Or I disclaime her ever.

Helle.
Pray good mother,
A little pardon mee; how shall I know
What heere you promise, you can there make good.

Clow.

If you distrust his word, take mine, which will passe
in Spaine for more Myravids, then the best Squiers in England
for Farthing-tokens.


Bona.
That you may know it is not lust, but love,
And the true speculation I have tane,
In both these adjuncts, that proclaime you rare,
That 'tis to have you denison'd in Spaine,
Be instated in my liberall fortunes there,
To appeare in Court a forraigne miracle,
And not to make you heere my Prostitute;
I onely begge your promise, that, being granted,
Ile backe into my Countrey, tell the Princesse,
What heere in England I have seene and found,
My peace being made, I will returne thus farre,


To fixe you in that spheare a splendant starre,
And this is all I crave.

Leo.
'Tis just, and honest,
In this can be no fallacie at all.

Helle.
As trueth then I accept it, and am yours.

Bona.
And Lady, I your creature: For by you
I am new made; as Mistris of this contract.
Accept this Ring, which never part withall,
But to my selfe in person.

Helle.
Not in death,
T'shall with me to my grave.

Bona.
To prove your constancy,
One Imposition more; there may be traines
Layd to intrap our love, to injure you,
And forfeit mee, therefore till my returne,
Which shall be with what suddennesse I can:
Be showne unto no stranger.

Helle.
These I vow,
And pray you keepe this token with that care
That I shall your commands, on this presume.
Of which, through all Hesperia you may boast,
Though my face please, yet shall my vertue most.

Bona.
Thou hast lost Isabella; and I gain'd
Me an Empire by my travell: I by you
Am new created, being lost and gone,
With this most sweete addition, two in one.

Clow.

A good hearing, and I and the old Gentlewoman are
both witnesses to the bargen.


Exeunt.
Enter Valladaura, solus.
Valla.
Approve no act, tho nere so well becomming
Part, so well beautified, phrase aptly languag'd,
To the very Tone and Accent of the Time,
But seemes in me defam'd and rusticall;
None can indure my sight, all things I doe
Are construed to the worst; I walke the streetes,
Salute I all I meete, none resaluteth mee,


But looke askue, and point, and laugh at mee,
As who should say, See Petrocellaes Scorne,
And that which wounds me deeper then death can,
The more I strive to make me worth her love,
So much the more unworthy shee reputes mee.

Enter Pineda, and Centella, conferring.
Pine.
And faith what think'st of Bonavidaes undertaking?

Cent.
As of the man himselfe, most frivolous and idle;
He parallell the Queene? ha, ha, ha.

Valla.
They speake of mee, and seale it with a smile:
That I could sinke, and hide me in the Center.

Pine.
Bold Valladaura, well return'd from Sea: wee heare—

Valla.
Of my disgrace, what a swift wing has Rumor?

Cent.
You met a bold and noble opposite.

Valla.
Have you heard that too?

Pine.
But beautious Petrocella

Valla.
Shee has told all: I shall be Ballated,
Sung up and downe by Minstrills? Gentlemen,
Tho my successe fell short of my intent,
Let it meete faire construction.

Pine.
It deserves no lesse.

Cent.
Your noble bearing, has given our moderne gallants
Plaine-song to descant on.

Valla.
They scoffe me palpably: but noble friends,
Such I have ever reckon'd you, Let's change
Discourse a while in private.

Walke and conferre.
Enter Turkish Captaine, Mont Ferars, Monhurst, Prisoners. With others.
Turk.
Of all the Christians this arme ever try'd,
You come the neerest men: What Countrey?

Fera.
England.

Turk.
Y'ar Nobly Spirited: Have you got your ransomes?

Manh.
None but our lives.

Fer.
Them thus wee tender.

Turk.
They are Iewells:


We rather wish to weare, than part withall,
But need commands us to make instant sale;
To the Male-Market with 'em, each man carries
His price upon his shoulder, goe goe, try the Market,
Our selfe will stay, and answer customers.

Vall.
Y'ave given both me and my feares satisfaction,
I shall report you noble, and esteeme my credit
Much richer than I did: As I said, my opposer
Had man enough in him, and indeed more
Then I have knowne in many.

Pyn.

The Land breeds few other: what's here, a Market of
Slaves?


Vall.
Manly proportions? Ha!

Mont.
Ferrers?

Fer.
Death!
My mortall foe? how is my poore life hunted?

Vall.
You doe not know me?

Fer.
I must give you the lie, to say I doe.

Vall.
'Tis surely hee, yet if it be, mischance
Has made him much unlike himselfe, when he
And I vy'd valour on the purple deck,
He wore a looke more manly; I'le try further.
Were you nere Captaine of a Ship at Sea?

Fer.
I had nere been slave unto a Turke, a shore else.

Vall.
Of England? your name Ferrers?

Fer.
Rather than deny—
My name and Country, I'le acknowledge any
Thing base or deadly: I confesse you know me,

Vall.
You shall know me too, ere we part.

Fer.
I shall?

Vall.
Vnto some cost you shall, trust to't.

Exit.
Fer.
If Fate
Has writ my name in her blacke booke: and this
The hind-most minute of my howers, I scorne
To bribe the Beldame to wipe't out againe.

Pin.
You know the Gentleman confer'd with you?

Fer.
For a bold Foe, and a proud Spanyard.

Pyn.
You may have cause to say so: h'as sent your Ransome.

Fer.
My ransome? Why? Why should he ransome me?


Nay rather, why should I aske that? I saw
Inveterate hate flame in his burning eye,
He frees me from slight bondage of the Turke
To slave me to himselfe, and exercise
New tyranny: he meets a living grave
That's vassall unto him, was once his slave;
That fate o'retakes me: I will not accept it.

Mon.
Your reason?

Fer.
Not that I desire to live
Slave to a Turke, or feare the bloodie usage
Of an ambitious Spanyard: Death is but death
What shape so ere he comes in.

Pin.
Why are ye so loath to meete him then?

Fer.
Though you cannot inforce so much, Ile tell you,
See you this man? One that with me hath fronted
The wrath, and utmost violence of Fate,
Should mine owne Countrimen, nay, naturall mother,
Or my kind Sister, whose faire eyes I honour,
Should the best Lord of those have sent my ransome,
Had it come single without his, as this,
I would have spurn'd, and sent it backe.

Cent.
You would Sir? We shall returne so much.

Pin.
And be perswaded to finde usage answerable to your
Contempt.

Exit.
Man.
Why for my sake doe you neglect your freedome?

Fer.
Because for mine, thou hast not lov'd thy life,
But throwne it upon dangers more than common:
Because for me, thou left'st thy native land,
Father and Friends, and to make me a fortune
Vnmade thine owne; gav'st both thy selfe and fate
Wholly to me; thinke me not so unjust
To lose a Iewell made o're to me in trust.
But they returne.

Enter Pineda and Centella.
Pin.
Here's both their Ransomes,

Throwes downe the bags.
Turk.
And theres both the slaves,
A better peny-worth of flesh and bloud


Turk never sold.

Fer.
Nor Christian but a Spanyard
Would ere have bought.

Pin.

Oh yes, your English Iewes, they'le buy and sell their fathers,
prostrate their wives, and make money of their own children,
the male stewes can witnesse that: come on Sir, you must
along.


Mon.
How, must?

Cent.
And shall, prating you English slave?

Enter Valladaura.
Vall.
You know me now?

Fer.
Yes truly, for a Tirant,
And bloody hangman: had I knowne thee halfe so well,
When on the Deck I had thee at my mercy,
I would have ground my sword upon thy bones,
And writ my freedome in thy blood.

Vall.
I live,
To doe the like by thee—

Fer.
And I breathe yet,
To dare thee to thy utmost: and may winne
More honour of thee, by my manly suffering,
Than thou, by base inflicting: My friend and I
Like two chaine-bullets, side by side, will fly
Thorow the jawes of death.

Vall.
A strong resolve,
But I shall quickly weaken, sunder them,
With hin there—quicke, that Paper will point out
Diet and lodging for him.

speakes to a servant.
Fer.
Sunder them? that word
Falls colder on me than the Rhewme of Death.

Pin.
Then you'le not flie like bullets in the jawes
Of Death and danger?

Fer.
Heare me Valladaura,
Since thou wilt needs take up the attribute
And name of Tyrant, studie thy trade perfect,
Soile it not in performance, like a true Artist,


Degree thy tortures, like an angry tempest,
Rise calmely first, and keepe thy worst rage last,
Torment us joyntly: sunder us at first,
A plague so deadly, that what ever followes
Will seeme but as a Cordiall: wouldst have devis'd
After a thousand tortures, one to mad
My manly patience, or to split my heart,
It had beene done in this one accent, part.

Pin.
Divide 'em so.

Mon.
Mezentius cruelty,
Comes short of yours, he joynd, but you divide
A living man in two.

Vall.
Right spanish Pride.

Fer.
I us'd not you so though: but noble Sir,
How well thou hast merited living?

Mon.
So I'le die,
Thy thought's an Antidote 'gainst tyrranie.

Fer.
Borne on that confidence, lose not one teare,
Nor spend a sigh, let guilty cowards feare.

Vall.
You'l find a change.

Fer.
Your churlsh—nor can we looke to finde
Vsage more gentle. Revenge is unconfin'd.

Vall.
And so shall mine be: what the art of man
Knowes of tormentings, mine shall inflict, and can.
This parting of you is the least and first,
Of infinite to come.

Fer.
I dare the worst.

Exeunt.
Enter Sebastian, Isabella, Centella, Pineda, with other attendants and followers.
Sebast.
Most divine Lady, in the late exile
Of your depraver Bonavida; how
Doe you applaud my justice?

Isabel.
Why, as Iustice.
To have done lesse, should have disgrac'd me more
Then all your worth could merit.

Cen.
Who doubts that,


Hee were not worthy to be stil'd a Prince,
Or to partake that goodnesse got in you,
That should have let slip such proud arrogance,
Without severest rigour.

Pin.
Troath I wonder
In what remote clyme the poore exile treads,
Or in what place he hopes to find that piece
His impudence durst boast of?

Isabel.
Hee's perhaps
Travell'd to Arabia Felix, and from thence
To bring the Phenix hither.

Seba.
He should then
Have kept his Country, if a Phenix live,
You make Spaine blest Arabia.

Isabel.
I remember,
There liv'd a Spanish Princesse of our name,
An Isabella too, and not long since;
Who from her Pallace windowes, stedfastly,
Gazing upon the Sunne, her heire tooke fire,
Some Augures held it as a prodigy,
I rather thinke she was Latona's brood,
And that Apollo courted her bright haire,
Else envying, that her tresses put downe his,
He scorcht them off in envie, nor dare I
From her deriv'd, expose me to his beames,
Least, as he burnes the Phenix in her nest
Made of the sweetest aromatick wood;
Either in love or envie, he agree
To use the like combustion upon me.

Cent.
A thing much to bee fear'd.

Pin.
Then royall Lady,
Might I advise you, keepe out of the Sunne
And walke still in the shade, by proofe we see
Such Meteors oft take fire.

Isabel.
Alas poore Lord:
To see what thy bold rashnesse brings thee to
That thou art forc'd to wander through the world,
To finde out a blacke Swan to rivall us?


Thou seek'st a thing that is not: and thy rashnesse
Hath justly forc'd thine exile.

Enter a Lord.
Lord.
Fayrest of Creatures,
I bring you newes, Lord Bonavids return'd,
And new arriv'd at Court,

Isabel.
Art sure 'tis so?

Lord.
Most certaine Royall Princesse.

Isabel.
To his death: If he come empty handed.

Sebast.
But if sped,
Then hee redeemes his exile.

Isabel.
Blind, and dull,
Hath plenty bred a surfett in you then?
Or have you tane possession of that treasure,
You know not how to value to the worth,
But though you cannot, wee can rate our selfe:
Perhaps, dispayre hath brought him backe to offer
His desperate life; Which if with submission,
Repentance, and some due acknowledgement,
May in our grace find pardon; Goe, admit him.

Cent.
Now let's prepare our eyes; For, hee no question
Hath brought o're some rare creature.

Pine.
Take your stands, let's have of her full view.

Enter Lord Bonavida, and the Clowne.
Bona.
All the delights of earth, and joyes above,
For ever crowne your Temples.

Sebast.
Wellcome Bonavida;
How speed you in your voyage?

Bona.
That successe,
I had in expectation, Royall sir,
I am now possest of, really.

Clown.
Wee have found her.

Isabel.
Hah, whom?



Bona.
The pride of Nature, and of Love;
Beautie and Vertue in most high contention
Which should exceede each other.

Clow.
Why, I can assure you, wee have her to show,
And such a piece—

Isabel.
Peace you; What Countrey?

Bona.
England.

Isabel.
What place there?

Bona.

Of their chiefe Cities, the Metropolis,
London.


Clow.

I, and the fayrest there, one so fayre, that all
Bartholmew-fayre could not match her againe.


Isabel.

Wee have no tongue for thee—


Clow.

But wee have a Tale for you, if you will give
us the hearing.


Isabel.
What name?

Bona.
Hellena.

Isabel.
Of what discent or Parentage?

Bona.
Noble by birth, yet not so hie degreed,
As her great vertues merit: nor her meanes,
To counterpoyse her beauty.

Clow.

Yet wee have her, and weight and measure
with her, to put downe all the black-browd wenches
in Spaine, for a face, and Phisiognomie.


Isabel.

That prater, Peace there.


Clowne.

I hope, when travellers have light vpon a
rich Purchase, It is lawfull for them to bragg of their
commoditie.


Isabel.
Wee may imagine one most beautifull;
But how to ranke with us?

Bona.
With any Lady,
Europe or Asia yeelds, them padon, Lady,
I hope without the least offence to you.

Isabel.

Perhaps shee's fayre, what Instance can you
give, that shee's of such prov'd vertue.


Bona.
Passing thousands;
I will insist in one: At my departure,
Onely one Ring I left with her in change,


Which if shee living part with, lend, or give
Till my returne, Ile hold my selfe disgrac'd,
Her ever-more disparidg'd: In exchang,
Shee did bestow on me this Carcanett,
Which I as long shall keepe.

Isa.
Pray let me see't.

Bona.
Madam, I dare expose to you my life,
Then much more this.

Isabel.
'Tis a most costly Iewell,
Worthy a Princesse wearing.

Clow.

I can assure you Lady, there was a Ring, and
a thing exchang'd vpon the bargen.


Isabel.

But where's this rare one? come produce her
streight, To make her the courts wonder.


Bona.
Pardon Lady:
Shee's yet in her owne Countrey; But that Carcanet
Can quickly fetch her over.

Isabel.

Pardon? villaine, and base Imposture, liu'd
there such a creature, would not thy pride have brought
her to full view?

But this Illusion seconding the first,
Doubles thy punishment; Hence with him to prison,
More worthy of the blocke: Abuse us first,
And then deride us after; Royall sir,
If suffer me to swallow this disgrace,
You vnderprise me doubly.

Sebast.
Thou hast spoke it, and it shall stand.

Bona.
Yet heare mee Royall sir.

Isabel.
Away with him.

Clow.
Then heare me Noble Lady.

Isabel.
Shall wee be still tormented?

Bona.
If you denie mee freedome, grant mee that
Which I more prise, my pretious Carcanet,
That which you with no Iustice can detaine.

Isabel.
Into some loathsome dungeon hurry him,
Vnworthy the dayes comfort: beare this scorne?

Sebast.
Yo'have sentenc'd justly.

Isa.
Please you sir, a little
To leave mee to my private solitude:


I shall not be long from you.

Sebast.
Take your pleasure;
For your content is ours.

Exit.
Isabel.
Centella and Pineda.

Cen.
Royall Madam.

Isabel.
I have a project for you, which if you effect,
You shall indeere me ever.

Cent.
What 's in men,
Shall not in us be skanted.

Isabel.
You have heard
The Countrey, and th'place of her abode;
Thither Ile furnish you: Spare for no cost,
Our Treasure lies ope to you, get that Ring
By any slight or craft: be it possible
That gold will doo't, corrupt her; Vse all meanes,
All friends, devices, plotts, and stratagems,
To bring some token of her falsenesse backe:
Further instructions you shall have with you;
Meane-time prepare for travell.

Pine.
And, or die,
Or bring you newes of her inchastitie.

Isabel.
Inough, you are ours: part with this Carkanew?
Not for a World: I have project too in that:
Bee rival'd by a petty English Dame?
Knew I the large earth did my equall give,
Rather then brooke her sight, Ide cease to live.

Exeunt.