University of Virginia Library

ACTVS QVINTVS.

Enter Bra. Iu. and his Page, charging a Pistoll.
Bra. Iu.
So loade it soundly, murders great with me,
Goe Boy, discharge it, euen in Planets brest,
Shoot him quite through, & through, thou canst not sin
To murder him, that murdered his deare friend
With damned breach of friendship, when he is slaine
Bring me his Cloake and Hat, here I will stay
To be imbrac'de in steed of Planet: goe, away.
Exit Boy.
I had rather die with blood vpon my head,
Shame and reproach clogging my heauie houre,
Then t'haue my friend still wounding of my soule
With reprobate Apostacisme in loue.
O this Sophisticate friendship, that dissolues
With euery heate of Fancie, let it melt
Euen in Hells Forge. Harke, the Pistoll is discharg'de,
The Act of gory murder is performd'e.
Haue mercie heauen: ô my soule is rent
Enter the Page.
With Planets wound. Come Boy the Hat and Cloake,
Go poste to Scotland, there are crownes for thee,
Leaue Brabant vnto death, and obloquie.
Exit Page.
Why now the vlcerous swelling of my hate
Is broken forth: Oh that these womens beauties,
This Natures witchcraft, should inchaunt our soules
So infinitely vnrecouerable,
That Hell, death, shame, eternall infamy,
Cannot reclaime our desperate resolues,
But we will on spight of damnation.
Enter Camelia and Winifride.
Come ye poore garments of my murdered friend,
Mourne that you are compeld to hide his limbes
That slew you Maister. See Camelia comes,
I'le stand thus muffled and deceiue her sight,
When loue makes head, friendship is put to flight.

Came.
Persist not still, ô thou relentlesse youth
To scorne my loue: what tho I scorn'd thy friend,
Do not vpbrayd me still with hating him,
Do not still view me with a loathing eye.
For Brabants sake, do you but loue me sweet,
And Ile not scorne him. Why shouldst be so nice
In keeping lawes of friendship? didst thou e're heare
Of any soule that held a friend more deare,
Then a faire woman?

Bra. Iu.
O the sting of death, how hath Brabant err'd?
Hence thou vile wombe of my damnation,
Oh thou wrong'd spirit of my murdred friend,
Thou guiltlesse, spotlesse, pure Immaculate,
Behold this arme thrusting swift vengeance
Into the Trunck of a curst damnde wretch.

He drawes his Rapier.
Wini.
Heele spoile himselfe, lets run & call for helpe.

Exit Camel. and Wini.
Bra. Iu.
Now haue I roome for murder, this vaste place,
Hush'd silence, and dumb sollitude, are fit
To be obseruers of my Tragedie.
Planet accept the smoake of reeking bloud
To expiate thy murder. Friend I come,
Weele troope together to Elizium.

Enter Sir Edward, Camelia, Winifride, Ellis, Brabant Sig. Twedle, Drum, and others.
Sir Ed.

Hold hairbrainde youth, what mischiefe
maddes thy thoughts?

Bra. Iu.

Forbeare good knight, you neuer sinn'd so
deepe,

As in detaining this iust vengeance
To light vpon me, but know I will die,
I haue infring'de the lawes of God and Man,
In sheading of my Planets guiltles blood,
Who I supposde corryuald me in loue
Of that Camelia, but iniuriously:
And therefore gentle knight, let mine owne hand
Be mine owne hangman.

Bra. Sig.
Brother I'le get you pardon, feare it not.

Bra. Iu.
You'le get my pardon, brother pardon mee,
You shall not, for Ile die in spight of thee.

Sir Ed.
I am turnde wilde in wonder of this act.

Enter Planet and the Page.
Pla.
Come Brabant come, giue me my Cloak & Hat,
The euenings rawe and danke, I shall take cold.
How now? turnd mad, why star'st thou on me thus?
Giue me my Cloake. Hart is the youth distraught?

Bra. Iu.

Ha, doest thou breathe, lets see where is thy
wound?

Pla.

Doest breathe, my wounde, what doest thou
meane by this?

Page.
Gentlemen I can direct you forth
This Laborinth of intricate misdoubts,
My M. will'd me kill that Gentleman,
Now I thought he was mad in putting me
To such an enterprise, and therefore sooth'd him vp,
With I sir, yes sir, and so sir, at each word,
Whilste he would show me how to hold the Dagge,
To drawe the Cock, to charge, and set the flint,
Meane time I had the wit to thinke him madde,
And therefore went, and as he will'd me shot,
Which he God knows, thought pearc'd his deer friends hart,
Then went & borrowed that same Hat & cloake
Of M. Planet, brought them to my Maister,
And so.

Pla.
No more, no more, knight I wil make thee smile
When I discourse how much my friend hath err'd.

Sir Ed.
I will dissolue and melt my soule to night,
In influent laughter. Come my Iocund spirit
Presageth some vnhopte for happinesse:
Wee'l crowne this euening with triumphant ioy,
Ile sup vpon this Greene, heer's roome enough
To drawe a liberall breath, and laugh aloud:
Drum fetch the Table: Twedle scoure your Pipe,
For my old bones will haue a Rownd to night.
Now by my troth and I had thought ont too,
I would haue had a play: Ifaith I would.
I sawe the Children of Powles last night,
And troth they pleasde mee prettie, prettie well,
The Apes in time will do it hansomely.

Pla.
Ifaith I like the Audience that frequenteth there
With much applause: A man shall not be choakte
With the stench of Garlicke, nor be pasted
To the barmy Iacket of a Beer brewer.

Bra. Iu.
Tis a good gentle Audience, and I hope the Boyes
Will come one day into the Court of requests.

Bra. Sig.
I and they had good Playes, but they produce
Such mustie fopperies of antiquitie,
And do not sute the humorous ages backs
With cloathes in fashion.

Pla.
Well Brabant well, you will be censuring still,
There lyes a Iest in steep will whip you fort't.

Sir Ed.
Gallants I haue no iudgement in these things,
But will it please you sit? Camelia
Call these same Gentlemen vnto thee wench:
O there with thee my Katherine was wont
To sit with gracefull presence, well let't passe:
Fetch me a Cup of Sacke. Come Gallants sit,
M. Brabant, M. Planet, I pray you sit.
Young M. Brabant, and Gods pretious M. Iohn,
Sit all, and consecrate this night to mirth.
Heere is old Neds place: Come, sound Musicke there,
What Gallants haue you ne're a Page can entertaine
This pleasing time with some French brawle or Song?
What shall we haue a Galliard? troth tis well.
A Galliard.
Good Boy Ifaith, I would thou hadst more roome.

Enter Katherine.
Ka.
Once more the gratious heauens haue renewd
My wasted hopes, once more a blessed chaunce
Hath fetcht againe my spirit from the sownd
And languishing dispaire of happinesse.
A skilfull Beldame with the Iuice of hearbes
Hath curde my face, and kild the venoms power,
And now if Pasquil liue and loue me still,
Heauen is bounteous to poore Katherine.
Yon suppes my Father, but my Ned's not there
I feare, and yet I know not what I feare.

Sir Ed.
Gallants I drinke this to Ned Pasquils health.

Pla.
Ifaith Ile pledge him, would he had his wits.

Sir Ed.
And I my daughter. Fill me one Cup more:
No griefe so potent, but neat sparkling wine
Can conquere him: Oh this is Iuice diuine.

Ka.
Would he had his wits. Oh what a numming feare
Strikes a cold palsey through my trembling blood.

Enter Pasquil madde.
Pas.
Vertue shall burst ope the Iron gates of Hell,
Ile not be coop'd vp, roome for Phaeton.
Lame pollicy how canst thou goe vpright?
O Lust, staine not sweet Loue. Fie be not lost
Vpon the surge of vulgar humours. You Idiot
Riuet my Armor, and Caparison,
A mightie Centaure, for Ile run at Tilt,
And tumble downe yon Giant in the dust.
Sit gentle Iudges of great Radamant,
Let not Proserpine rule thee. Oh shee's dead.
Now thou art right Eacus, I appeale to thee,
Haue pittie on a wretches miserie.

Sir Ed.
I am quite sunck with griefe, what shall we do
To get recouery of his wittes againe?

Bra. Iu.
Let Musicke sound, for I haue often heard
It hath such sweet agreement with our soules,
That it corrects vaine humours, and recalls
His stragling fancies to faire vnion.

Pla.
Why the soule of man is nought but simphonies,
A sound of disagreeing parts, yet faire vnite
By heauens hand, diuine by reasons light.

Sir Ed.
Sound Musicke, then pray God it take effect.

The Musickes soundes, and Pasquils Eye is fixt vpon Catherine.
Bra. Iu.
Mark with what passion he sucks vp the sweets
Of this same delicate harmonious breath.

Pla.
Obserue him well, me thinkes his eye is fixt
Vpon some obiect that seemes to attract
His verie soule forth with astonishment.
Marke with what vehemence his thoughts do speake
Euen in his eies, some creature stands farre off,
That hath intranc'te him with a pleasing sight.

Pas.
Amazement, wonder, stiffe astonishment,
Stare and stand gazing on this miracle,
Perfection, of what e're a humane thought
Can reach with his discoursiue faculties,
Thou whose sweet presence purifies my sence,
And doest create a second soule in me,
Deare Katherine, the life of Pasquils hopes.

Ka.
Deare Pasquil, the life of Katherines hopes.

Pas.
Once more let me imbrace the constant's one
That e're was tearmde her Sexe perfection.

Kathe.
Once more let me be valued worth his loue,
In decking of whose soule, the graces stroue.

Pas.
Spight hath outspent it selfe, and thus at last,

Both
speake.
We clip with ioyful arme each others wast.

Sir Ed.
O pardon me thou dread omnipotence,
I thought thou couldst not thus haue blessed me.
O thou hast deaw'd my gray haires with thy loue,
And made my old heart sprout with fertill ioy.

Kathe.
Forget deare father, that my act hath wrongd
The quiet of your age.

Sir Ed.
No more, no more, I know what thou wold'st say
Daughter, there's nothing but saluation,
Could come vnto my heart more gratious
Then is the sight of my deare Katherine.
Sonne Pasquill now, for thou shalt be my sonne,
What frolicke gentle youth.

Pas.
Is Mamon heere?

Drum.

Oh Sir, M. Mamon is in a Citie of Iurye, called
Bethlem, Alias plaine Bedlame: the price of whips is mightily
risen since his braine was pitifully ouertumbled,
they are so fast spent vpon his shoulders.

Pas.
Oh sacred heauens, how iust is thy reuenge?

Sir Ed.
Why? did he cast you in the laborinth
Of these straunge crosses?

Pas.
Yes honor'd knight, which in more priuate place
And fitter time, I will disclose at large.

Came.
Faith Sister, as I am your elder borne,
So will I match before or with you sure,
Young M. Brabant?

Bra.
By this light not I.

Came.
Honest M. Ellis?

Ellis.
No indeed law, not I, I do not vse to marrie:
For euen as blacke patches are worne,
Some for pride, some to stay the Rhewme, and
Some to hide the scab, euen so Iohn Ellis
Scorne her, that hath scorned him.

Came.
Vertuous Maister Planet.

Pla.
Errant wandring starre we shall nere agree.

Ca.
M. Brabant, M. Planet, M. Ellis, faith Ile haue any.

Sir Ed.
But no bodie will haue thee, this is the plague of light inconstancie.
Go Twedle, bid the Butler broach fresh wine,
Set vp waxe lights, and furnish new the boords,
Knocke downe a score of Beefes,
Inuite my neighbors straight,
And make my Dressers grone with waight of meate.
M. Ellis, pray you let vs heare your high Dutch Song,
You are admired for it: Good lets heare it.

El.

I do not vse to sing, and yet euen as when the skie
falls we shall haue Larkes, euen so when my voice riseth,
you shall haue a Song.

He singeth, holding a Bowle of drinke in his hand.
The Song.
Sir Ed.
Well done, I faith twas chaunted merrily:
What my Gallants, nere a tickeling Iest
To make vs sowne with mirth ere we goe in?

Bra. Sig.
Faith Gent. I ha brewed such a strong headed Iest
Will make you drunk, and reele with laughter:
You know Mounsieur Iohn fo de king?

Sir Ed.
Very well, he read French to my daughters.

Bra. Sig.

I to gull the Foole, haue brought him to my
wife, as to a loose lasciuious Curtezan, she being a meer
straunger to the Iest, and there some three houres ago
left him: but I am sure shee hath so cudgeld him with
quicke sharpe Iests, and so batterd him with a volley of
her wit, as indeed she is exceeding wittie, and admirable
chaste, that in my conscience heele neuer dare to court
women more. Would to God he were returnd.

Enter Mounsieur.
Sir Ed.

See euen on your wish hee's come.

Moun.

Iesu preserue you sweet Metre Brabant, by gor
de most delicat plumpe vench dat euer mee tuche: mee
am your slaue, your peasaunt; by gor a votre seruice
whil'ste I liue vor dis.

Bra. Sig.

He would perswade you now that he toucht
her, with an immodest hand. Ha, ha, ha.

Moun.

Tuch her, by Gor mee tuch her, and tuch her,
and mee tuch her, mee nere tuch such a venche, de finea
foote, de cleanest legge, de sleekest skin: and mee tell
e sure token, shee hath de finest little varte you knowe
veare: hee by Gor mee nere tuch such a vench.

Sir Ed.

Pray God hee haue not brew'd a headie Iest
indeed.

Bra. Sig.

Why faith Gentlemen I am Cuckolde, by
this light I am.

Moun.

By gor mee no knowe, you tell a mee twas a
Curtezan, prey you pardon mee, by my trote, me teche
you French to t'end of de vorlde.

Pla.
Come heer's thy Cap of Maintenance, the Coronet
Of Cuckolds. Nay you shall weare it, or weare
My Rapier in your gutts by heauen.
Why doest thou not well deserue to be thus vsde?
Why should'st thou take felicitie to gull
Good honest soules, and in thy arrogance
And glorious ostentation of thy wit,
Thinke God infused all perfection
Into thy soule alone, and made the rest
For thee to laugh at? Now you Censurer
Be the ridiculous subiect of our mirth.
Why Foole, the power of Creation
Is still Omnipotent, and there's no man that breathes
So valiant, learned, wittie, or so wise,
But it can equall him out of the same mould.
Wherein the first was form'd. Then learne proud scorne,
And honest selfe made Cuckold, weare the horne.

Bra. Sig.
Weare the horne? I, spite of all your teethe
Ile weare this Crowne, and triumph in this horne.

Sir Ed.
Why faith tis valorously spoke faire Sir,
Weel solemnise your Coronation
With royall pompe. Now Gentlemen prepare
A liberall spirit to entertaine a Ieast,
VVhere free light Iocund mirth shall be enthroand
VVith sumptuous state. Now Musicke beat the aire,
Intrance our thoughts with your harmonious sounds,
Our Fortune laughes, and all content abounds.

Exeunt omnes.