 | The Atheist's Tragedie :or The honest Man's Revenge |  |
Actus primi
Scena prima.
Enter D'amuille, Borachio, attended.D'amuille.
I saw my Nephew Charlemont, but now
Part from his Father. Tell him I desire
To speake with him.
Exit Seruant.
Borachio, thou art read
In Nature and her large Philosophie.
Obseru'st thou not the very selfe same course
Of reuolution both in Man and Beast?
Bor.
The same. For birth, growth, state, decay and death:
Onely, a Man's beholding to his Nature
For th'better composition o'the two.
D'am.
But where that fauour of his Nature, is
Not full and free; you see a man becomes
A foole, as little-knowing as a beast.
Bor.
That showes there's nothing in a Man, aboue
His nature; if there were, consid'ring t'is
His beings excellencie, t'would not yeeld
To Natures weakenesse.
D'am.
Then if Death casts vp
Our totall summe of ioy and happinesse;
Let me haue all my sences feasted in
Th'abundant fulnesse of delight at once,
Of pleasing surfet melt into my dust.
Bor.
That reuolution is too short me thinkes.
If this life comprehends our happinesse,
How foolish to desire to dye so soone?
And if our time runnes home vnto the length
Of Nature, how improuident it were
To spend our substance on a minutes pleasure,
And after liue an age in miserie?
D'am.
So thou conclud'st that pleasure onely flowes
Vpon the streame of riches.
Bor.
Wealth is Lord
Of all felicitie.
D'am.
T'is Oracle.
For what's a man that's honest without wealth?
Bor.
Both miserable and contemptible.
D'am.
Hee's worse Borachio. For if Charitie
Be an essentiall part of Honestie,
And should be practis'd first vpon our selues;
Which must be graunted; then your honest man
That's poore, is most dishonest, for hee is
Vncharitable to the Man, whom hee
Should most respect. But what doth this touch me,
That seeme to haue enough? Thankes industrie.
T'is true. Had not my Body spredde it selfe
Into posteritie; perhaps I should
Desire no more increase of substance, then
Would hold proportion with mine owne dimentions.
Yet euen in that sufficiencie of state,
A man has reason to prouide and adde.
For what is he hath such a present eye,
And so prepar'd a strength; that can fore-see,
And fortifie his substance and himselfe,
Against those accidents, the least whereof
May robbe him of an ages husbandry?
And for my children; they are as neere to me,
As branches to the tree whereon they grow;
As they increase, so should my prouidence;
For from my substance they receiue the sap,
Whereby they liue and flowrish.
Bor.
Sir enough,
I vnderstand the marke whereat you aime.
Enter Charlemont.
D'am.
Silence. W'are interrupted. Charlemont!
Char.
Good morrow Vncle.
D'am.
Noble Charlemont;
Good morrow. Is not this the honour'd day
You purpos'd to set forward to the warre?
Char.
My inclination did intend it so.
D'am.
And not your resolution?
Char.
Yes my Lord;
Had not my Father contradicted it.
D'am.
O noble warre! Thou first originall
Of all man's honour. How deiectedly,
The baser Spirit of our present time
Hath cast it selfe below the ancient worth
Of our forefathers! From whose noble deedes
Ignobly we deriue our pedigrees.
Charl.
Sir, taxe not me for his vnwillingnesse.
By the command of his authoritie,
My disposition's forc'd against it selfe.
D'am.
Nephew, you are the honour of our bloud.
The troope of Gentry, whose inferiour worth
Should second your example, are become
Your Leaders: and the scorne of their discourse,
Turnes smiling backe vpon your backewardnesse.
Charl.
You neede not vrge my spirit by disgrace,
T'is free enough. My Father hinders it.
To curbe me, hee denyes me maintenance
To put me in the habite of my ranque.
Vnbinde me from that strong necessitie,
And call me Coward if I stay behind.
D'am.
For want of meanes? Borachio! Where's the gold?
To purchase honour. T'is an interest
I prize aboue the principall of wealth.
I'm glad I had th'occasion to make knowne
How readily my substance shall vnlocke
It selfe to serue you. Here's a thousand Crownes.
Charl.
My worthy vncle; in exchange for this,
I leaue my bond. So I am doubly bound;
By that for the repayment of this gold,
And by this gold to satisfie your loue.
D'am.
Sir; t'is a witnesse (onely) of my loue;
And loue doth alwayes satisfie it selfe.
Now to your Father; labour his consent.
My importunitie shall second yours.
Wee will obtaine it.
Charl.
If intreatie faile,
The force of reputation shall preuaile.
Exit.
D'am.
Goe call my Sonnes, that they may take their leaues
Of noble Charlemont. Now my Borachio!
Bor.
The substance of our former argument
Was wealth.
D'am.
The question how to compasse it.
Bor.
Young Charlemont is going to the warre.
Dam.
O, thou begin'st to take me.
Bor.
Marke me then.
Me thinkes, the pregnant wit of Man, might make
The happy absence of this Charlemont,
A subiect for commodious prouidence.
He has a wealthy Father; ready eu'n
To drop into his graue. And no mans power
When Charlemont is gone, can interpose
'Twixt you and him.
D'am.
Th'ast apprehended; both
My meaning and my loue. Now let thy trust,
For vndertaking and for secrecie,
Hold measure with thy amplitude of wit;
And thy reward shall parallel thy worth.
My resolution has already bound
Mee to your seruice.
D'am.
And my heart to thee.
Enter Rousard and Sebastian.
Here are my Sonnes.—
There's my eternitie. My life in them;
And their succession shall for euer liue.
And in my reason dwels the prouidence,
To adde to life as much of happinesse.
Let all men lose, so I increase my gaine,
I haue no feeling of anothers paine.
Exeunt.
Enter old Montferrers and Charlemont.
Mont.
I prithee let this current of my teares,
Diuert thy inclination from the warre.
For of my children thou are onely left,
To promise a succession to my house.
And all the honour thou canst get by armes,
Will giue but vaine addition to thy name;
Since from thy auncestours thou dost deriue
A dignitie sufficient; and as great
As thou hast substance to maintaine and beare.
I prithee stay at home.
Charl.
My noble Father.
The weakest sigh you breath, hath power to turne
My strongest purpose; and your softest teare
To melt my resolution to as soft
Obedience. But my affection to the warre,
Is as heriditary as my bloud,
To eu'ry life of all my ancestry.
Your predecessours were your presidents;
And you are my example. Shall I serue
For nothing but a vaine Parenthesis,
I'th' honour'd story of your Familie?
Or hang but like an emptie Scutcheon,
Betweene the trophee's of my predecessours.
And the rich Armes of my posteritie?
There's not a French-man of good bloud and youth,
Is turn'd a Souldier. Onely Charlemont
Must be reputed that same heartlesse thing,
That Cowards will be bold to play vpon.
Enter D'amville, Rousard and Sebastian.
D'am.
Good morrow my Lord.
Mont.
Morrow good brother.
Charl.
Good morrow Vncle.
D'am.
Morrow kinde Nephew.
What? ha'you wash'd your eyes wi'teares this morning?
Come: by my soule his purpose does deserue
Your free consent. Your tendernesse disswades him.
What to the Father of a Gentleman,
Should be more tender then the maintenance
And the increase of honour to his house?
My Lord; here are my Boyes. I should be proud
That eyther this were able, or that inclin'd
To be my Nephewes braue competitor.
Mont.
Your importunities haue ouercome.
Pray God my forc'd graunt proue not ominous.
D'am.
We haue obtain'd it.—Ominous? in what?
It cannot be in anything but death.
And I am of a confident beliefe,
That eu'n the time, place, manner of our deathes,
Doe follow Fate with that necessitie;
That makes vs sure to dye. And in a thing
Ordain'd so certainly vnalterable,
What can the vse of prouidence preuaile?
Belforest, Leuidulcia, Castabella, attended.
Bel.
Morrow my Lord Montferrers, Lord D'amville.
Good morrow Gentlemen. Couzen Charlemont!
Kindly good morrow. Troth I was afeard
I should ha'come too late, to tell you that
I wish your vndertakings a successe
That may deserue the measure of their worth.
Char.
My Lord; my dutie would not let me goe,
Without receiuing your commandements.
Accomplements are more for ornament,
Then vse. Wee should imploy no time in them,
But what our serious businesse will admit.
Mont.
Your fauour had by his duty beene preuented,
If we had not with-held him in the way.
D'am.
Hee was o'comming to present his seruice.
But now no more. The Cooke inuites to breakfast.
Wilt please your Lordship enter.—Noble Lady.
Manent Charlemont and Castabella.
Charl.
My noble Mistresse! this accomplement
Is like an elegant and mouing speech,
Compos'd of many sweete perswasiue points,
Which second one onother, with a fluent
Increase, and confirmation of their force,
Reseruing still the best vntill the last,
To crowne the strong impulsion of the rest
With a full conquest of the hearers sense:
Because th'impression of the last we speake
Doth alwayes longest and most constantly
Possesse the entertainment of remembrance.
So all that now salute my taking leaue,
Haue added numerously to the loue,
Wherewith I did receiue their courtesie.
But you (deare Mistresse) being the last and best
That speakes my farewell; like th'imperious cloze
Of a most sweete Oration, wholy haue
Possess'd my liking, and shall euer liue
Within the soule of my true memory.
So (Mistresse) with this kisse I take my leaue.
Casta.
My worthy Seruant! you mistake th'intent
Of kissing. T'was not meant to separate
A paire of Louers; but to be the seale
Of Loue; importing by the ioyning of
Our mutuall and incorporated breathes,
That we should breath but one contracted life.
Or stay at home, or let me goe with you.
Charl.
My Castabella! for my selfe to stay,
With a dishonourable weakenesse, or
Your louing purpose with immodestie.
Enter Languebeau Snuffe.
And for the satisfaction of your loue,
Heere comes a man whose knowledge I haue made
A witnesse to the contract of our vowes,
Which my returne by marriage shall confirme.
Lang.
I salute you both with the spirit of copulation, I am
already informed of your matrimoniall purposes, and will be a
testimonie to the integritie.
Casta.
O the sad trouble of my fearful soule!
My faithfull seruant! did you neuer heare,
That when a certaine great man went to th'warre,
The louely face of heau'n was masqu'd with sorrow,
The sighing windes did moue the breast of earth,
The heauie cloudes hung downe their mourning heads,
And wept sad showers the day that hee went hence,
As if that day presag'd some ill successe,
That fatallie should kill his happinesse;
And so it came to passe. Me thinkes my eyes
(Sweet Heau'n forbid) are like those weeping cloudes,
And as their showers presag'd so doe my teares,
Some sad euent will follow my sad feares.
Charl.
Fie, superstitious? is it bad to kisse?
Casta.
May all my feares hurt me no more then this.
Lang.
Fie, fie, fie, these carnall kisses doe stirre vp the
Concupisences of the flesh.
Enter Belforest and Leuidulcia.
Leuid.
O! heer's your daughter vnder her seruants lips.
Charl.
Madame, there is no cause you should mistrust
The kisse I gaue, t'was but a parting one.
Leuid.
A lustie bloud! Now by the lip of Loue
Were I to choose, your ioyning one for mee.
Bel.
Your Father stayes to bring you on the way.
Farewell. The great commander of the warre
Prosper the course you vndertake. Farewell.
My Lord! I humbly take my leaue.—Madame!
I kisse your hand.—And your sweet lip.—Farewell.
Manent Charlemont and Languebean.
Her power to speake is perish'd in her teares.
Something within me would perswade my stay,
But Reputation will not yeeld vnto't.
Deare Sir, you are the man whose honest trust
My confidence hath chosen for my friend.
I feare my absence will discomfort her.
You haue the power and opportunitie
To moderate her passion. Let her griefe
Receiue that friendship from you; and your Loue
Shall not repent it selfe of courtesie.
Lang.
Sir, I want words and protestation to insinuate into
your credit; but in plainnesse and truth, I wil quallifie her griefe
with the spirit of consolation.
Charl.
Sir, I will take your friendship vp at vse.
And feare not that your profit shall be small;
Your interest shall exceede your principall.
Exit Charl.
Enter D'amville and Borachio.
D'am.
Mounsieur Languebeau! Happily encountred. The
honestie of your conuersation, makes me request more int'rest
in your familiaritie.
Lang.
If your Lordship will be pleased to salute me without
ceremonie, I shall be willing to exchange my seruice for your
fauour; but this worshipping kinde of entertainment, is a superstitious
vanitie, in plainnesse and truth I loue it not.
D'am.
I embrace your disposition; and desire to giue you
as liberall assurance of my loue, as my Lord Belforest your deserued
fauourer.
Lan.
His Lordship is pleased with my plainnesse and truth
of conuersation.
D'am.
It cannot displease him. In the behauiour of his noble
daughter Castabella; a man may read her worth and your
instruction.
Lang.
That Gentlewoman is most sweetly modest, faire, honest,
handsome, wise, well-borne, and rich.
You haue giuen me her picture in small.
Lang.
Shee's like your Dyamond; a temptation in euery
mans eye, yet not yeelding to any light impression her selfe.
D'am.
The praise is hers; but the comparison your owne.
Giues him the Ring.
Lan.
You shall forgiue me that, Sir.
D'am.
I will not doe so much at your request as forgiue you
it. I will onely giue you it Sir. By ------ You will make mee
sweare.
Lan.
O! by no meanes. Prophane not your lippes with the
foulnesse of that sinne. I will rather take it. To saue your oath,
you shall lose your Ring.—Verily my Lord, my praise came
short of her worth. Shee exceedes a Iewell. This is but onely
for ornament; Shee both for ornament and vse.
D'am.
Yet vnprofitably kept without vse. Shee deserues a
worthy Husband, Sir. I haue often wish'd a match betweene
my elder Sonne and her. The marriage would ioyne the houses
of Belforest and D'amville into a noble alliance.
Lan.
And the vnitie of Families is a worke of loue and charitie.
D'am.
And that worke an imployment well becomming
the goodnesse of your disposition.
Lan.
If your Lordship please to impose it vpon mee; I will
carry it without any second end, the surest way to satisfie your
wish.
D'am.
Most ioyfully accepted.—Rousard! Here are
Letters to my Lord Belforest touching my desire to that purpose.
Rousard! I send you a suitor to Castabella. To this Gentlemans
discretion I commit the managing of your suite His good successe
shall be most thankefull to your trust. Follow his instructions,
he will be your leader.
Lan.
In plainnesse and truth.
Rous.
My leader? does your Lordship thinke mee too weake
to giue the on-set my selfe.
Lan.
I will onely assist your proceedings.
To say true; so I thinke you had neede, for a sicke
man can hardly get a womans good will without help.
Lan.
Charlemont! thy gratuitie and my promises were both
but words; and both like words shall vanish into ayre.—
This giues mee feeling of a better suite.
Exeunt Languebeau and Rousard.
D'am.
Borachio! didst precisely note this man?
Bor.
His owne profession would report him pure.
D'am.
And seemes to know if any benefit,
Arises of religion after death;
Yet but compare's profession with his life;
They so directly contradict themselues,
As if the end of his instructions were
But to diuert the world from sinne, that hee
More easily might ingrosse it to himselfe.
By that I am confirm'd an Atheist.
Well! Charlemont is gone. And here thou seest,
His absence the foundation of my plot.
Bor.
Hee is the man whom Castabella loues.
D'am.
That was the reason I propounded him
Employment fix'd vpon a forraine place,
To draw his inclination out o'th'way.
Bor.
T'has left the passage of our practise free.
D'am
This Castabella is a wealthy heire,
And by her marriage with my elder Sonne;
My house is honour'd, and my state increas'd.
This worke alone deserues my industry:
But if it prosper, thou shalt see my braine
Make this but an induction to a point
So full of profitable policie;
That it would make the soule of honestie
Ambitious to turne villaine.
Bor.
I bespeake
Employment in't. I'le be an instrument
To grace performance with dexteritie.
D'am.
Thou shalt. No man shall rob thee of the honour.
Like Charlemonts. Prepare thee a disguise,
I'th'habite of a Souldiour, hurt and lame,
And then be ready at the wedding feast,
Where thou shalt haue imployment in a worke
Will please thy disposition.
Bor.
As I vow'd;
Your instrument shall make your proiect proud.
D'am.
This marriage will bring wealth. If that succeede,
I will increase it though my Brother bleed.
Exeunt.
Enter Castabella auoiding the importunitie of Rousard.
Casta.
Nay good Sir; in troth if you knew how little it pleases
mee, you would forbeare it.
Rous.
I will not leaue thee, till th'ast entertain'd mee for thy
seruant.
Casta.
My seruant? You are sicke you say. You would taxe
mee of indiscretion to entertaine one that is not able to doe me
seruice.
Rous.
The seruice of a Gentlewoman consists most in chamber
worke, and sicke men are fittest for the chamber, I pr'ithee
giue me a fauour.
Casta.
Mee thinkes you haue a very sweet fauour of your
owne.
Rous.
I lacke but your blacke eye.
Casta.
If you goe to buffets among the Boyes, they'l giue
you one.
Rous.
Nay if you grow bitter, Ile dispraise your blacke eye.
The gray eie'd Morning makes the fairest day.
Casta.
Now that you dissemble not, I could be willing to
giue you a fauour. What fauour would you haue?
Rous.
Any toy: any light thing.
Casta.
Fie. Will you be so vnciuill to aske a light thing at a
Gentlewomans hand?
Rous.
Wilt giue mee a bracelet o'thy haire then?
Casta.
Doe you want haire Sir?
Rous.
No faith Ile want no haire, so long as I can haue it for
mony.
What would you doe with my haire then?
Rous.
Weare it for thy sake sweet hart.
Casta.
Doe you thinke I loue to haue my haire worne off?
Rous.
Come you are so witty now, and so sensible.
Kisses her.
Casta.
Tush. I would I wanted one o'my sences now.
Rous.
Bitter againe? What's that? Smelling?
Casta.
No, no, no. Why now y'are satisfied I hope. I haue
giuen you a fauour.
Rous.
What fauour? a kisse? I prithee giue mee another.
Casta.
Shew mee that I gaue you then.
Rous.
How should I shew it?
Casta.
You are vnworthie of a fauour if you will not bestow
the keeping of it one minute.
Rous.
Well in plaine termes, doest loue mee? That's the
purpose of my comming.
Casta.
Loue you? Yes Very well.
Rous.
Giue mee thy hand vpon't.
Casta.
Nay, you mistake mee. If I loue you very well, I
must not loue you now. For now your are not very well, y'are
sicke.
Rous.
This Equiuocation is for the iest now.
Casta.
I speak't as t'is now in fashion, in earnest. But I
shall not be in quiet for you I perceiue, till I haue giuen you
a fauour. Doe you loue mee?
Rous.
With all my hart.
Casta.
Then with all my hart, Ile giue you a Iewell to hang
in your eare,—Harke yee—I can neuer loue you.
Exit.
Rous.
Call you this a Iewell to hang in mine eare? T'is no
light fauour, for Ile be sworne it comes somewhat heauily to
mee. Well. I will not leaue her for all this. Mee thinkes it
animates a man to stand too't, when a woman desires to be rid
of him at the first sight.
Exit.
Enter Belforest and Languebeau Snuffe.
Bel.
I entertaine the offer of this match;
I haue already moou'd it to my daughter;
Her soft excuses sauour'd at the first
(Methought) but of a modest innocence
Of bloud; whose vnmoou'd streame was neuer drawne
Into the current of affection. But when I
Replyed with more familiar arguments,
Thinking to make her apprehension bold;
Her modest blush fell to a pale dislike,
And shee refus'd it with such confidence,
As if shee had beene prompted by a loue
Inclining firmely to some other man,
And in that obstinacie shee remaines.
Lan.
Verily that disobedience doth not become a Childe.
It proceedeth from an vnsanctified libertie. You will be accessarie
to your owne dishonour if you suffer it.
Bel.
Your honest wisedome has aduis'd mee well.
Once more Ile moue her by perswasiue meanes.
If shee resist; all mildenesse set apart,
I will make vse of my authoritie.
Lan.
And instantly, least fearing your constraint; her contrary
affection teach her some deuise that may preuent you.
Bel.
To cut off eu'ry opportunitie,
Procrastination may assist her with;
This instant night shee shall be marryed.
Lan.
Best.
Enter Castabella.
Casta.
Please it your Lordship, my mother attends
I'th' Gallerie, and desires your conference.
Exit Belforest.
This meanes I vs'd to bring mee to your eare.
Time cuts off circumstance; I must be briefe.
To your integritie did Charlemont
Commit the contract of his loue and mine.
Which now so strong a hand seekes to diuide:
That if your graue aduise assist me not,
I shall be forc'd to violate my faith.
Since Charlemont's absence, I haue waighed his loue
with the spirit of consideration; and in sinceritie I finde it to be
friuolous and vaine. With-draw your respect; his affection deserueth
it not.
Casta.
Good sir; I know your heart cannot prophane
The holinesse you make profession of;
With such a vitious purpose, as to breake
The vow, your owne consent did help to make.
Lan.
Can he deserue your loue, who in neglect of your delightfull
conuersation; and in obstinate contempt of all your
prayers and teares; absents himselfe so far from your sweet fellowship,
and with a purpose so contracted to that absence, that
you see hee purchases your separation with the hazard of his
bloud and life; fearing to want pretence to part your companies?—
T'is rather hate that doth diuision moue; Loue still desires
the presence of his Loue.—Verily, hee is not of the
Familie of Loue.
Casta.
O doe not wrong him. T'is a generous minde
That ledde his disposition to the warre:
For gentle loue and noble courage are
So neare allyed; that one begets another:
Or, Loue is Sister, and Courage is the Brother.
Could I affect him better then before,
His Souldiers heart would make me loue him more.
Lan.
But Castabella.—
Enter Leuidulcia.
Leu.
Tush, you mistake the way into a woman,
The passage lyes not through her reason, but her bloud.
Exit Languebeau, Castabella about to follow.
Nay, stay! How wouldst thou call the childe,
That being rais'd with cost and tendernesse,
To full habilitie of body and meanes;
Denies reliefe vnto the parents, who
Bestow'd that bringing vp?
Casta.
Vnnaturall.
Leu.
Then Castabella is vnnaturall.
Nature the louing mother of vs all,
Brought forth a woman for her owne reliefe;
Which now thou hast habilitie and meanes
Presented; most vnkindly dost deny.
Casta.
Belieue me Mother; I doe loue a man.
Leu.
Preferr'st th'affection of an absent Loue,
Before the sweet possession of a man;
The barren minde before the fruitfull body;
Where our creation has no reference
To man; but in his body: being made
Onely for generation; which (vnlesse
Our children can be gotten by conceit)
Must from the body come. If Reason were
Our counsellour, wee would neglect the worke
Of generation, for the prodigall
Expence it drawes vs too, of that which is
The wealth of life. Wise Nature (therefore) hath
Reseru'd for an inducement to our sence,
Our greatest pleasure in that greatest worke.
Which being offer'd thee; thy ignorance
Refuses, for th'imaginarie ioy
Of an vnsatisfied affection, to
An absent man. Whose bloud once spent i'th'warre;
Then hee'l come home, sicke, lame and impotent;
And wed thee to a torment; like the paine
Of Tantalus, continuing thy desire,
With fruitlesse presentation of the thing
It loues; still moou'd, and still vnsatisfied.
Enter Belforest, Da'mville, Rousard, Sebastian, Languebeau, &c.
Bel.
Now Leuidulcia! Hast thou yet prepar'd
My Daughters loue to entertaine this Man?
Her husband here?
Leu.
I'm but her mother i'law;
Yet if shee were my very flesh and bloud,
I could aduise no better for good.
Rous.
Sweet wife! Thy ioyfull husband thus salutes
Thy cheeke.
My husband? O! I am betraid.—
Deare friend of Charlemont! your puritie
Professes a diuine contempt o'th'world;
O be not brib'd by that you so neglect,
In being the worlds hated instrument,
To bring a iust neglect vpon your selfe!—
Kneele from one to another.
Deare Father! let me but examine my
Affection.—Sir, your prudent iudgement can
Perswade your sonne that t'is improuident
To marry one whose disposition, he
Did ne'er obserue.—Good sir, I may be of
A nature so vnpleasing to your minde;
Perhaps you'l curse the fatall houre wherein
You rashly marryed me.
D'am.
My Lord Belforest!
I would not haue her forc'd against her choise.
Bel.
Passion o'me thou peeuish girle. I charge
Thee by my blessing, and th'authoritie
I haue to claime th'obedience; marry him.
Casta.
Now Charlemont! O my presaging teares!
This sad euent hath follow'd my sad feares.
Seba.
A rape, a rape, a rape!
Bel.
How now?
D'am.
What's that?
Seba.
Why what is't but a Rape to force a wench to marry,
since it forces her to lie with him she would not?
Lan.
Verily, his Tongue is an vnsanctified member.
Seba.
Verily, your grauitie becomes your perish'd soule, as
hoary mouldinesse does rotten fruit.
Bel.
Couzen, y'are both vnciuill and prophane.
D'am.
Thou disobedient villaine; get thee out of my sight.
Now by my Soule Ile plague thee for this rudenesse.
Bel.
Come; set forward to the Church.
Exeunt.
Manet Sebastian.
Seba.
And verifie the Prouerbe. The nearer the Church;
the further from God.—Poore wench. For thy sake, may
his habilitie die in his appetite; that thou beest not troubled
another man: so hee shall helpe to make himselfe Cuckold.
And let that man be one that he payes wages too: so thou shalt
profit by him thou hatest. Let the Chambers be matted, the
hinges oyl'd, the curtaine rings silenced, and the chamber-maid
hold her peace at his owne request, that he may sleepe the quietlier.
And in that sleepe let him be soundly cuckolded. And
when hee knowes it, and seekes to sue a diuorce; let him haue
no other satisfaction then this: Hee lay by and slept: the Law
will take no hold of her, because he wink'd at it.
Exit.
| The Atheist's Tragedie :or The honest Man's Revenge | |