University of Virginia Library

Actus tertij

Scæna prima.

Claridiana, and Rogero being in a readinesse, are receiued in at one anothers houses by their Maids.
Then Enter Mendosa, with a Page, to the Lady Lentvlvs Window.
Mendosa.
Night like a solemne Mourner frownes on earth,
Enuying that Day should force her doffe her roabes,
Or Phœbus chase away her Melancholy.
Heauens eyes looke faintly through her sable masque,
And siluer Cinthia hyes her in her Sphære,
Scorning to grace blacke nights solemnitie.
Be vnpropitious Night to villaine thoughts,
But let thy Diamonds shine on vertuous loue:
This is the lower house of high-built heauen,
Where my chaste Phæbe sits, inthron'd 'mong thoughts
So purely good, brings her to heauen on earth.
Such power hath soules in contemplation.
Sing boy (though night yet) like the mornings Larke:
Musicke playes.
A soule that's cleare is light, though heauen be darke.

The Lady Lentvlvs, at her window.
Lent.
Who speakes in Musicke to vs?

Mend.
Sweet, 'tis I. Boy, leaue me, and to bed.

Exit Page.
Lent.
I thanke you for your Musicke: now good-night.

Men.
Leaue not the World yet, Queene of Chastitie,
Keepe promise with thy Loue Endimion,
And let mee meete thee there on Latmus top.
'Tis I whose vertuous hopes are firmely fixt
On the fruition of thy chaste vow'd loue.

Lent.

My Lord, your honor made me promise your ascent into
my house, since my vow barr'd my doores,

By some wits engine, made for theft and lust:
Yet for your Honour, and my humble fame,
Checke your blouds passions, and returne deare Lord:
Suspition is a Dogge that still doth bite.
Without a cause, this act giues foode to Enuy;
Swolne big, it bursts, and poysons our cleare flames.

Men.
Enuy is stinglesse when she lookes on thee.

Lent.
Enuy is blinde, my Lord, and cannot see.

Men.
If you breake promise, faire, you breake my hart.

Lent.
Then come. Yet stay. Ascend. Yet let vs part.
I feare, yet know not what I feare:
Your Loue's precious, yet mine Honor's deare.

Mend.
If I doe staine thy Honor with foule lust,
May Thunder strike me, to shew Ioue is iust.

Lent.
Then come my Lord, on earth your vow is giuen.
This arde Ile lend you.

He throwes vp a ladder of cords, which she makes fast to some part of the window, he asends, and at top fals.
M.
Thus I mount my heauen.
Receiue me sweete.

Lent.
O me vnhappy wretch.
How fares your Honour? speake Fate-crost Lord.
If life retaine his seate within you, speake;
Else like that Sestian Dame, that saw her Loue,
Cast by the frowning billowes, on the sands,
And leane death swolne big with the Hellespont,
In bleake Leanders body, like his Loue,
Come I to thee, one graue shall serue vs both.

Mend.
Stay miracle of women, yet I breathe,
Though death be enter'd in this Tower of flesh,
Hee is not conquerour, my heart stands out,
And yeelds to thee, scorning his tyranny.

Lent.
My doores are vow'd shut, and I cannot helpe you.
Your wounds are mortall, wounded is mine Honour,
If there the Towne-guard finde you. Vnhappy Dame,
Reliefe is periur'd, my vow kept, shame.
What hellish Destinie did twist my fate?

Mend.
Rest ceaze thine eye-lids; be not passionate:
Sweet sleepe secure, Ile remoue my selfe.
That Viper Enuy shall not spot thy fame:
Ile take that poyson with me, my soules rest,
For like a Serpent, Ile creepe on my breast.

Lent.

Thou more then man, loue-wounded: ioy and griefe
fight in my bloud. Thy wounds and constancie

Are both so strong none can haue victory.

Mend.
Darken the world, earths-Queene, get thee to bed;
The earth is light while those two Starres are spread:
Their splendor will betray me to mens eyes.
Vaile thy bright face: for if thou longer stay,
Phœbus will rise to thee, and make night day.

Lent.
To part and leaue you hurt my soule doth feare.

Mend.
To part from hence I cannot, you being there.

Lent.
Wee'll moue together, then Fate Loue controules,
And as we part so bodies part from soules.

Mend.
Mine is the earth, thine the refined fire:
I am mortall, thou diuine, then soule mount higher.

Lent.
Why then take comfort sweet, Ile see'ou to morrow.

Exit.
Men.
My wounds are nothing, thy losse breedes my sorrow.
See now 'tis darke.
Support your Master, legges, a little further:
Faint not bolde heart with anguish of my wound:
Try further yet, can bloud weigh downe my soule?
Desire is vaine without abilitie.
He staggars on, and then fals downe.
Thus fals a Monarch, if Fate push at him.

Enter a Captaine and the Watch.
Capt.

Come on my hearts, we are the Cities securitie, Ile giue
you your charge, and then like Courtiers euery man spye out:
let no man in my company be afraid to speake to a Cloake lined
with Veluet, nor tremble at the sound of a gingling Spurre.

1 Watch.

May I neuer be counted a cock of the game, if I feare
Spurres: but be gelded like a Capon for the preseruing of my
voyce.

Cap.

Ile haue none of my Band refraine to search a veneriall
house, though his Wifes sister be a lodger there: nor take two
shillings of the Bawd to saue the Gentlemens credits that are
aloft: and so like voluntary Pandars leaue them, to the shame of
all Halbardiers.

2.

Nay, for the Wenches, wee'll tickle them, that's flat.

Cap.

If you meete a Sheuoiliero, that's in the grosse phrase, a
Knight, that swaggers in the streete, and being taken, has no money
in his Purse to pay for his fees; it shall be a part of your duty
to entreate me to let him goe.

1.
O meruailous! is there such Sheuoiliers?

2.
Some 200. that's the least, that are reueal'd.

Mend. grones.
Cap.
What groane is that? bring a light. Who lyes there?
It is the Lord Mendosa, kinsman to our Duke.
Speake good my Lord, relate your dire mischance:
Life like a fearefull seruant flyes his Master,
Art must attone them, or'th' whole man is lost.
Conuay him to a Surgeons, then returne:
No place shall be vnsearch'd vntill we finde
The truth of this mischance. Make haste againe.
Exit the Watch. Manet Captain.
Whose house is this stands open? in, and search.
What guests that house containes, and bring them forth.
This Noble-mans misfortune stirs my quiet,
And fils my soule with fearefull fantasies.
But Ile vnwinde this Labyrinth of doubt,
Else industry shall lose part of it selfes labour.
Enter the Watch, with Claridiana and Rogero taken in one anothers houses, in their shirts and night-gownes, they see one another.
Who haue we there? Signiors cannot you tell vs
How our Princes kinsman came wounded to the death
Nigh to your houses.

Rog.
Hey-day; crosse-ruffe at midnight. Is't Christmas?
You goe a gaming to your neighbours house.

Clar.
Dost make a Mummer of me Oxe-head?

Cap.
Make answere Gentlemen, it doth concerne you.

Rog.

Oxe-head will beare an action; Ile ha'the Law; Ile not
be yoakt. Beare vvitnesse Gentlemen, he cals me Oxe-head,

Cap.

Doe you heare sir?

Clarid.

Very well, very well, take Law and hang thy selfe, I
care not. Had she no other but that good face to doate vpon?
Ide rather she had dealt vvith a dangerous French-man, then
with such a Pagan.

Cap.
Are you mad? answere my demaund.

Rog.
I am as good a Christian as thy selfe,
Though my Wife haue now new christned mee.

Cap.
Are you deafe, you make no answere?

Clar.
Would I had had the circumcising of thee Iew, Ide ha'
Cut short your Cuckold-maker, I would ifaith, I would ifaith.

Cap.
Away with them to prison; they'll answere better there.

Rog.
Not to fast Gentlemen: vvhat's our crime?

Cap.
Murther of the Dukes kinsman, Signior Mendosa.

Amb.
Nothing else? vve did it, vve did it, vve did it.

Cap.
Take heede Gentlemen vvhat you confesse.

Cla.
Ile confesse any thing since I am made a foole by a knaue.
Ile be hang'd like an innocent, that's flat.

Rog.

Ile not see my shame. Hempe in stead of a Quacksaluer,
you shall put out mine eyes, and my head shall be bought to make
Incke-hornes of.

Cap.
You doe confesse the murder?

Clar.
Sir, 'tis true,
Done by a faithlesse Christian and a Iew.

Cap.
To prison vvith them, wee will heare no further,
The tongue betrayes the heart of guilty murder.

Exeunt Omnes.
Enter Count Gvido, Isabella, Anna, and Seruants.
Guid.
Welcome to Pauy sweet, and may this kisse
Chase Melancholy from thy company:
Speake my soules ioy, how fare you after trauaile.

Isah.
Like one that scapeth dangers on the Seas,
Yet trembles vvith cold feares being safe on land,
With bare imagination of what's past.

Guid.
Feare keepe vvith cowards, aire-stars cannot moue.

Isab.
Feare in this kinde, my Lord, doth sweeten loue.

Guid.
To thinke feare ioy (deare) I cannot coniecture.

Isab.
Feare's sire to feruencie,
Which makes loues sweet prone Nectar:
Trembling desire, feare, hope, and doubtfull leasure,
Distill from loue the Quintessence of pleasure.

Guid.
Madame, I yeeld to you; Feare keepes vvith Loue,
My Oratorie is too weake against you:
You haue the ground of knowledge, vvise experience,
Which makes your argument inuincible.

Isab.
You are Times Scholler, and can flatter weaknesse.

Guid.
Custome allowes it, and vve plainly see
Princes and women maintaine flatterie.

Isab.
Anna, goe see my Iewels and my Trunckes
Be aptly placed in their seuerall roomes.
Exit Anna.
Enter Gniaca Count of Gaza, with Attendants.
My Lord, know you this Gallant? 'tis a compleate Gentleman.

Guid.
I doe; 'tis Count Gniaca, my endeared friend.

Gniac.
Welcome to Pauie, vvelcome fairest Lady:
Your sight deare friend, is lifes restoratiue;
This day's the period of long-wish'd content,
More vvelcome to me then day to the vvorld,
Night to the vvearyed, or gold to a Mizer;
Such ioy feeles Friendship in Societie.

Isab.
A rare shap'd man: compare them both together,

Guid.
Our loues are friendly twins, both at a birth;
The ioy you taste, that ioy doe I conceiue,
This day's the Iubile of my desire.

Isab.
He's fairer then he vvas vvhen first I saw him.
This little time makes him more excellent.

Gniac.
Relate some newes. Harke you, what Lady's that.
Be open breasted, so will I to thee.

They whisper.
Isab.
Error did blinde him that paints Loue blinde;
For my Loue plainly iudges difference:
Loue is cleare sighted, and vvith Eagles eyes,
Vndazeled, lookes vpon bright Sunne-beam'd beauty:
Nature did rob her selfe, when she made him,
Blushing to see her vvorke excell her selfe,
Tis shape makes mankinde femelacie.
Forgiue me Rogero, 'tis my Fate
To loue thy friend, and quit thy loue vvith hate.
I must enioy him, let hope thy passions smother:
Faith cannot coole bloud; Ile clip him, wer't my brother.
Such is the heate of my sincere affection,
Hell nor earth can keepe loue in subiection.

Gnia.
I craue your Honors pardon my Ignorance
Of what you were, may gaine a curteous pardon.

Is.
There needes no pardon, where there's no offence;
His tongue strikes Musicke rauishing my sense:
I must be sodaine, else desire confounds me.

Guid.
What sport affords this Climate for delight?

Gnia.
We'll hawke and hunt to day, as for to morrow
Varietie shall feede varietie.

Is.
Dissimulation womens armour is,
Aide loue beliefe, and female constancie.
Oh, I am sicke my Lord, kinde Rogero helpe me.

Guido.
Forsend it heauen, Madame sit; how fare you?
My liues best comfort speake, O speake sweet Saint.

Is.
Fetch Art to keepe life, runne my Loue, I faint:
My vitall breath runnes coldly through my veynes,
I see leane Death vvith eyes imaginarie,
Stand fearefully before me: here my end
A vvife vnconstant, yet thy louing friend.

Guid.
As swift as thought, flie I to wish thee aide.

Exit.
Isab.
Thus innocence by craft is soone betraid.
My Lord Gniaca, 'tis your Art must heale me,
I am loue-sicke for your loue; loue, loue, for louing:
I blush for speaking truth; faire Sir beleeue me,
Beneath the Moone nought but your frowne can grieue me.

Gniaca.
Lady, by heauen, me thinkes, this fit is strange.

Isab.
Count not my loue light for this sodaine change:
By Cupids Bow I sweare, and vvill avow,
I neuer knew true perfect loue till now.

Gniac.
Wrong not your selfe, me, and your dearest friend,
Your loue is violent, and soone vvill end.
Loue is not Loue vnlesse Loue doth perseuer,
That loue is perfect loue, that loues for euer.

Isab.
Such loue is mine, beleeue it vvell-shap'd youth,
Though vvomen vse to lye, yet I speake truth.
Giue sentence for my life or speedy death:
Can you affect me?

Gniac.
I should belye my thoughts to giue deniall,
But then to friendship I must turne disloyall:
I vvill not vvrong my friend, let that suffice.

Isab.
Ile be a miracle, for loue a woman dyes,

Offers to stab her selfe.
Gn.
Hold madame, these are soule killing passions.
Ide rather wrong my friend then you your selfe.

Isab.
Loue me, or else by Ioue death's but delaid:
My vow is fixt in heauen, feare shall not moue me,
My life is death vvith tortures 'lesse you loue me.

Gnia.
Giue me some respite, and I will resolue you.

Isab.
My heart denies it.
My bloud is violent, now or else neuer,
Loue me, and like loues Queene Ile fall before thee,
Inticing daliance from thee vvith my smiles,
And steale thy heart vvith my delicious kisses.
Ile study Art in loue, that in a rupture
Thy soule shall taste pleasures excelling nature.
Loue me, both Art and nature in large recompence,
Shall be profuse in rauishing thy sense.

Gni.
You haue preuail'd, I am yours from all the world,
Thy wit and beauty haue entranc'd my soule:
I long for daliance, my bloud burnes like fire,
Hels paine on earth is to delay desire.

Isab.
I kisse thee for that breath, this day you hunt;
In midst of all your sports leaue you Rogero,
Returne to me whose life rests in thy sight,
Where pleasure shall make Nectar our delight.

Gniac.
I condescend to what thy vvill implores me;
He that but now neglected thee, adores thee:
Enter Rogero, Anna, Doctor.
But see here comes my friend, feare makes him tremble.

Isab.
Women are witles that cannot dissemble:
Now I am sicke againe: where's my Lord Rogero?
His loue and my health's vanish'd both together.

Guid.
Wrong not thy friend, deare friend, in thy extreames,
Here's a profound Hipocrates, my deare,
To minister to thee the spirit of health.

Isab.
Your sight to me, my Lord, excels all Phisicke;
I am better farre (my Loue) then when you left me:
Your friend was comfortable to me at the last.
'Twas but a fit, my Lord, and now 'tis past.
Are all things ready sir?

Anna.
Yes Madame, the house is fit.

Gnia.
Desire in women is the life of wit.

Exeunt Omnes.
Enter Abigal and Thais at seuerall doores.
Abig.

O partner, I am with childe of laughter, and none but
you can be my Mid-wife: was there euer such a game at Noddy?

Thais.

Our Husbands thinke they are fore-men of the Iurie,
they hold the Hereticke point of Predestination, and sure they
are borne to be hanged.

Abig.

They are like to proue men of iudgement, but not
for killing of him that's yet aliue, and well recouered.

Thais.
As soone as my man saw the Watch come vp,
All his spirit was downe.

Abig.
But though they haue made vs good sport in speech,
They did hinder vs of good sport in action.
O wench, imagination is strong in pleasure.

Thais.

That's true: for the opinion my Good-man had of
enioying you, made him doe wonders.

A.

Why shold weake man, that is so soone satisfied, desire variety?

Thais.

Their answere is, to feede on Phesants continually
would breede a loathing.

Abigall.

Then if vve seeke for strange flesh that haue stomackes
at will, 'tis pardonable.

Thais.

I, if men had any feeling of it, but they iudge vs by
themselues.

Abig.

Well, we vvill bring them to the Gallowes, and then,
like kinde virgins, begge their liues, and after liue at our pleasures,
and this bridle shall still reyne them.

Thais.
Faith, if vve were disposed, we might seeme as safe,
As if we had the broad seale to warrant it:
But that nights worke vvill sticke by me this forty weekes.
Come, shall we goe visit the discontented Lady Lentulus?
Whom the Lord Mendosa has confest to his Chirurgion,
He vvould haue rob'd? I thought great men would but
Haue rob'd the poore, yet he the rich.

Abig.

He thought that the richer purchase, though vvith the
worse conscience: but vvee'll to comfort her, and then goe heare
our Husbands lamentations. They say mine has compiled an
vngodly volume of Satyres against women, and cals his booke
The Snarle.

Thais.
But he's in hope his booke will saue him.

Ab.
God defend that it should, or any that snarle in that fashion.

Tha.
Well wench, if I could be metamorphosed into thy shape,
I should haue my husband pliant to me in his life,
And soone rid of him: for being weary vvith his continuall motion,
He'de dye of a consumption.

Abig.
Make much of him, for all our wanton prize,
Follow the Prouerbe, Merry be and wise.

Exeunt.
Enter Isabella, Anna, and Seruants.
Isab.
Time that deuour'st all mortalitie,
Runne swiftly these few houres,
And bring Gniaca on thy aged shoulders,
That I may clip the rarest modell of creation.
Doe this gentle Time
And I vvill curle thine aged siluer locke,
And dally vvith thee in delicious pleasure.
Medea-like I will renew thy youth;
But if thy frozen steps delay my loue,
Ile poyson thee with murder, curse thy pathes,
And make thee know a time of infamy.
Anna, giue watch, and bring me certaine notice
When Count Gniaca doth approach my house.

An.
Madame I goe.
I am kept for pleasure, though I neuer taste it.
For 'tis the vshers office still to couer
His Ladyes priuate meetings with her Louer.

Exit.
Isab.
Desire, thou quenchlesse flame that burn'st our soules,
Cease to torment me;
The dewe of pleasure shall put out thy fire,
And quite consume thee with satietie.
Lust shall be cool'd with lust, wherein Ile proue,
The life of loue is onely sau'd by loue.

Enter Anna.
An.
Madame, hee's comming,

Isab.
Thou blessed Mercurie,
Prepare a banquet fit to please the Gods;
Let Sphære-like Musicke breathe delicious tones
Into our mortall eares; perfume the house
With odoriferous sents, sweeter then Myrrhe,
Or all the Spices in Panchaia:
His sight and touching wee will recreate,
That his fiue Senses shall be fiue-fold happy.
His breath like Roses casts out sweete perfume;
Time now with pleasure shall it selfe consume.
Enter Gniaca in his hunting weedes.
How like Adonis in his hunting weedes,
Lookes this same Goddesse tempter?
And art thou come? this kisse entrance thy soule.
Gods I doe not enuy you; for know this
Way's here on earth compleate, excels your blisse:
Ile not change this nights pleasure vvith you all.

Gniac.
Thou creature made by Loue, compos'd of pleasure,
That mak'st true vse of thy creation,
In thee both vvit and beauty's resident;
Delightfull pleasure, vnpeer'd excellence.
This is the fate fixt fast vnto thy birth,
That thou alone shouldst be mans heauen on earth:
If I alone may but enioy thy loue,
Ile not change earthly ioy to be heauens loue:
For though that vvomen haters now are common,
They all shall know earths ioy consists in woman.

Isab.
My loue was dotage till I loued thee;
For thy soule truely tastes our petulance,
Conditious Louer, Cupids Intelligencer,
That makes man vnderstand what pleasure is:
These are fit attributes vnto thy knowledge;
For womens beautie o'er men beare that rule.
Our power commands the rich, the vvise, the foole.
Though scorne growes big in man in growth & stature,
Yet vvomen are the rarest workes in nature.

Gnia.
I doe confesse the truth, and must admire
That women can command rare mans desire.

Isab.
Cease admiration, sit to Cupids feast,
The preparation to Papheon daliance,
Hermonious Musicke breathe thy siluer Ayres,
To stirre vp appetite to Venus banquet,
That breath of pleasure that entrances soules,
Making that instant happinesse a heauen,
In the true taste of loues deliciousnesse.

Gniac.
Thy vvordes are able to stirre cold desire,
Into his flesh that lyes emtomb'd in Ice,
Hauing lost the feeling vse of warmth in bloud,
Then how much more in me, whose youthfull veynes,
Like a proud Riuer, ouer-flow their bounds?
Pleasures Ambrosia, or loues nourisher,
I long for priuacie; come, let vs in,
'Tis custome, and not reason makes loue sinne.

Isab.
Ile leade the way to Venus Paradise,
Where thou shalt taste that fruit that made man wise.
Exit Isab.

Gnia.
Sing notes of pleasure to elate our bloud:
Why should heauen frowne on ioyes that doe vs good?
I come Isabella keeper of loues treasure,
To force thy bloud to lust, and rauish pleasure.

Exit.
After some short Song enter Isabella and Gniaca againe, she hanging about his necke laciuiously.
Gniac.
Still I am thy captiue, yet thy thoughts are free:
To be Loues bond-man is true libertie.
I haue swomme in seas of pleasure without ground,
Ventrous desire past depth it selfe hath drownd.
Such skill has beauties Art in a true louer,
That dead desire to life it can recouer.
Thus beauty our desire can soone aduance,
Then straight againe kill it with daliance.
Diuinest women, your enchanting breaths
Giue Louers many lifes and many deaths.

Isab.
May thy desire to me for euer last,
Not dye by surfet on my delicates:
And as I tye this Iewell about thy necke,
So may I tie thy constant loue to mine,
Neuer to seeke weaking varietie,
That greedy curse of mans and womans hell,
Where nought but shame and loath'd diseases dwell.

Gniac.
You counsell well, deare, learne it then;
For change is giuen more to you then men.

Isab.
My faith to thee, like rockes, shall neuer moue,
The Sunne shall change his course ere I my loue.

Enter Anna.
Anna.
Madame, the Count Rogero knockes.

Isab.
Deare Loue into my chamber, till I send
My hate from sight.

Gniac.
Lust makes me wrong my friend.
Exit Gniaca.

Isab.
Anna, stand here, and entertaine Lord Rogero.
I from my window straight will giue him answere.
The Serpents vvit to woman rest in me,
By that man fell, then vvhy not he by me?
Fain'd sighes and teares dropt from a womans eye,
Blindes man of reason, strikes his knowledge dumbe:
Wit armes a vvoman, Count Rogero come.
Exit Isabella.

Anna.
My office still is vnder: yet in time
Vshers proue Masters, degrees makes vs climbe.
Guido knockes.
Who knockes? is't you my noble Lord?

Enter Gvido in his hunting weedes.
Guid.
Came my friend hither, Count Gniaca?

An.
No, my good Lord.

Guid.
Where's my Isabella?

An.
In her Chamber.

Guid.
Good: Ile visit her.

An.
The chamber's lockt my Lord: shee will be priuate.

Guid.
Lockt against me, my sawcy mallapert?

An.
Be patient good my Lord: shee'll giue you answere.

Guid.
Isabella life of loue, speake, 'tis I that cals.

Isab. at her window.
Isab.
I must desire your Lordship pardon me.

Guid.
Lordship? what's this? Isabella, art thou blinde?

Isab.
My Lord, my lust was blinde, but now my soule's cleare sighted,
And sees the spots that did corrupt my flesh:
Those tokens sent from hell, brought by desire,
The messenger of euerlasting death.

Anna.
My Lady's in her Pulpit, now shee'll preach.

Guid.
Is not thy Lady mad? in veritie I alwayes
Tooke her for a Puritane, and now shee shewes it.

Isab.
Mocke not Repentance. Prophanation
Brings mortals laughing to damnation.
Beleeue it Lord, Isabella's ill past life,
Like gold refin'd, shall make a perfect Wife.
I stand on firme ground now, before on Ice;
We know not vertue till wee taste of vice.

Guid.
Doe you heare dissimulation, woman sinner?

Isab.
Leaue my house good my Lord, and for my part,
I looke for a most vvisht reconciliation
Betwixt my selfe and my most wronged Husband.
Tempt not contrition then religious Lord.

Guid.
Indeede I vvas one of your familie once:
But doe not I know these are but braine-trickes:
And where the Diuell has the Fee-simple, he will keep possession.
And will you halt before me that your selfe has made a criple?

Isab.
Nay, then you wrong me: and disdained Lord,
I paid thee for thy pleasures vendible,
Whose mercenary flesh I bought with coyne,
I vvill diuulge thy basenesse, 'lesse vvith speede
Thou leaue my house and my societie.

Guid.
Already turn'd apostate, but now all pure,
Now damn'd your faith is, and loues endure
Like dewe vpon the grasse, when pleasures Sunne
Shines on your vertues, all your vertue's done.
Ile leaue thy house and thee, goe get thee in,
Thou gaudy childe of pride, and nurse of sinne.

Isab.
Raile not on me my Lord; for if you doe,
My hot desire of vengeance shall strike wonder;
Reuenge in woman fals like dreadfull thunder.

Exit.
Anna.
Your Lordship will command me no further seruice?

Guid.
I thanke thee for thy vvatchfull seruice past;
Thy vsher-like attendance on the Staires,
Being true signes of thy Humilitie.

Anna.
I hope I did discharge my place with care.

Guid.
Vshers should haue much vvit, but little haire;
Thou hast of both sufficient: prethee leaue mee,
If thou hast an honest Lady, commend me to her,
But shee is none.
Exit Anna, manet Guido.
Farewell thou priuate strumpet worse then common.
Man were on earth an Angell but for woman,
That seauen-fold branch of hell from them doth grow,
Pride, Lust, and Murder, they raise from below,
With all their fellow sinnes. Women were made
Of blood, without soules: vvhen their beauties fade,
And their lust's past, auarice or bawdry
Makes them still lou'd: then they buy venerie,
Bribing damnation, and hire brothell slaues.
Shame's their executors, Infamie their graues.
Your painting vvill wipe off, vvhich Art did hide,
And shew your vgly shape in spite of pride.
Farewell Isabella poore in soule and fame,
I leaue thee rich in nothing but in shame.
Then soulelesse women know, whose faiths are hollow,
Your lust being quench'd, a bloudy act must follow.

Exit.