 | A Cure for a Cuckold |  |
ACT I.
SCENE I.
Enter Lessingham and Clare.Less.
This is a place of feasting and of joy, and as in Triumphs
and Ovations here, nothing save stare and
pleasure.
Clare.
'Tis confest.
Less.
A day of Mirth and solemn Jubile.
Clare.
For such as can be merry.
Less.
A happy Nuptial, since a like pair of Fortunes suitable,
equality in Birth, parity in years, and in affection no way
different, are this day sweetly coupled.
Clare.
'Tis a Marriage.
Less.
True Lady, and a noble president
me thinks for us to follow: why should these out-strip us in our
loves, that have not yet out-gone us in our time.
If we thus loose our best, and not to be recovered hours unprofitably
spent, we shall be held meer Trewants in Loves school.
Clare.
That's a study in which I never shall ambition have to
become graduate.
Less.
Lady, you are sad:
this Jovial Meeting puts me in a spirit to be made such.
We two are Guests invited, and meet by purpose, not by accident;
where's then a place more opportunely fit, in which we
may solicite our own Loves, than before this example?
Clare.
In a word, I purpose not to marry.
Less.
By your favor, for as I ever to this present hour have studied
your observance, so from henceforth I now will study
plainness, I have loved you beyond my self, mis-spended for
your sake many a fair hour, which might have been imployed to
pleasure, or to profit, have neglected duty to them from whom
my being came, my parents; but my hopeful studies most.
I have stol'n time from all my choice delights, and robb'd my
have told me as fair, as rich, I never thought 'em so, and lost all
these in hope to finde out you, resolve me then for Christian
charity. Think you an Answer of that frozen nature is a sufficient
satisfaction for so many more then needful services?
Clare.
I have said, Sir.
Less.
Whence might this distaste arise? Be at least so kinde
to perfect me in that: Is it of some dislike lately conceived of
this my person, which perhaps may grow from calumny and scandal?
if not that, some late received Melancholy in you: if neither,
your perverse and peevish will, to which I most imply it.
Clare.
Be it what it can, or may be, thus it is,
And with this Answer pray rest satisfied.
In all these travels, windings, and indents,
Paths, and by-paths which many have sought out,
There's but one onely road, and that alone
To my fruition; which who so findes out,
'Tis like he may enjoy me: but that failing,
I ever am mine own.
Less.
Oh name it, Sweet. I am already in a Labyrinth until
you guide me out.
Clare.
Ile to my Chamber,
May you be pleased, unto your mis-spent time
To adde but some few minutes. By my Maid
You shall hear further from me.
Exit.
Less.
Ile attend you.
What more can I desire, than be resolv'd
Of such a long suspence. Here's now the period
Of much expectation.
Enter Raymond, Eustace, Lyonel, and Grover, Gallants.
Raym.
What? you alone
Retired to privacy,
Of such a goodly confluence, all prepared
To grace the present Nuptials?
Less.
I have heard some say, men are ne're less alone, then
when alone, such power hath meditation.
Eust.
Oh these choice Beauties that are this day assembled!
But of all, fair Mistriss Clare, the Bride excepted still, she bears
away the prize.
And worthily; for, setting off her present melancholly,
she is without taxation.
Grov.
I conceive the cause of her so sudden discontent.
Raym.
'Tis far out of my way.
Grov.
Ile speak it then: In all estates, professions, or degrees
in Arts or Sciences, there is a kinde of Emulation; likewise so
in this: There's a Maid this day married, a choice Beauty. Now
Mrs. Clare, a Virgin of like Age, and Fortunes correspondent,
apprehending time lost in her that's in another gained, may upon
this. For who knows womens thoughts grow into this deep sadness?
Raym.
Like enough.
Less.
You are pleasant, Gentlemen,
Or else perhaps, though I know many have pursued her Love,
Grov.
(And you amongst the rest) with pardon Sir,
Yet she might cast some more peculiar eye
On some that not respects her,
Enter Wayting-woman.
Less.
That's my fear which you now make your sport.
Wom.
A Letter, Sir.
Less.
From whom?
Wom.
My Mistriss.
Less.
She has kept her promise, and I will read it, though I
in the same know my own death included.
Wom.
Fare you well, Sir.
Exit.
Less.
Prove all thy friends, finde out the best and nearest,
Kill for my sake that Friend that loves thee dearest.
Her servant, nay her hand and character,
All meeting in my ruine! Read agen,
Prove all thy Friends, finde out the best and nearest,
Kill for my sake that Friend that loves the dearest.
And what might that one be? 'Tis a strange difficulty,
And it will ask much councel.
Exit Less.
Raym.
Lessingham hath left us on the sudden.
Eust.
Sure the occasion was of that Letter sent him.
Lyon.
It may be it was some Challenge.
Grov.
Challenge, never dream it:
Enter Woodroff, Anabel, Bonvile, Franckford, Luce, and Nurse.
Are such things sent by women?
Raym.
'Twere an Heresie
To conceive but such a thought.
Tush, all the difference
Begot this day, must be at night decided.
Betwixt the Bride and Bridegroom. Here both come.
Wood.
What did you call the Gentleman we met
But now in some distraction?
Bon.
Lessingham: A most approv'd and noble friend of mine,
and one of our prime Guests.
Wood.
He seemed to me
Somewhat in minde distemper'd. What concern
Those private humors ours so publick Mirth
In such a time of Revels? Mistriss Clare,
I miss her too. Why Gallants, have you suffered her
Thus to be lost amongst you?
Anna.
Dinner done, unknown to any, she retir'd her self.
Wood.
Sick of the Maid perhaps, because she sees
You Mistriss Bride, her School-and Play-fellow
So suddenly turned Wife.
Franck.
'Twas shrewdly guest.
Wood.
Go finde her out: Fie Gentlemen, within
The Musick playes unto the silent walls,
And no man there to grace it: when I was young,
At such a Meeting I have so bestir'd me,
Till I have made the pale Green-sickness Girls
Blush like the Rubie, and drop pearls apace
Down from their Ivory fore-heads: In those days
I have cut Capers thus high. Nay, in Gentlemen,
And single out the Ladies.
Raym.
Well advised. Nay Mrs. Bride, you shall along with
us; for without you all's nothing.
Anna.
Willingly, with Mr. Bridegrooms leave.
Bon.
Oh my best Joy, this day I am your servant.
Wood.
True, this day; she his, her whole life after, so it should
be: onely this day a Groom to do her service, for which the full
remainder of his age he may write Master. I have done it yet,
and so I hope still shall do. Sister Luce, may I presume my brother
Franckford can say as much, and truly?
Luce.
Sir, he may, I freely give him leave.
Wood.
Observe that brother, she freely gives you leave;
Franck.
You'r pleasant, and it becomes you well, but this
day most; that having but one Daughter, have bestowed her to
your great hope and comfort.
Wood.
I have one: would you could say so, Sister; but your
barrenness hath given your husband freedom, if he please, to seek
his pastime elsewhere.
Luce.
Well, well brother, though you may taunt me that have
never yet been blest with issue, spare my husband pray, for he
may have a By-blow, or an Heir that you never heard of.
Franck.
Oh fie wife, make not my fault too publick.
Luce.
Yet himself keep within compass.
Franck.
If you love me, Sweet.
Luce.
Nay I have done.
Wood.
But if he have not, Wench, I would he had, the hurt
I wish you both. Prithee, thine eat a little.
Nurse.
Your boy grows up, and 'tis a chopping Lad,
A man even in the Cradle.
Fran.
Softly Nurse:
Nurse.
One of the forwardst infants, how it will crow
And chirrup like a Sparrow! I fear shortly it will breed teeth,
you must provide him therefore a Corral, with a Whistle and a
Chain.
Fran.
He shall have any thing.
Nurse.
He's now quite out of Blankets.
Fran.
There's a Piece, provide him what he wants, onely
good Nurse prithee at this time be silent.
Nurse.
A Charm to binde any Nurses tongue that's living.
Wood.
Come, we are mist among the younger Frye,
Gravity oft-times becomes the sports of youth, especially
At such Solemnities, and it were sin
Not in our Age to show what we have bin.
Exeunt.
Enter Lessingham sad, with a Letter in his hand.
Less.
Amicitia nihil dedit natura manus necrarius,
So saith my Author. If then powerful Nature in all her bounties
showred upon mankinde, found none more rare and precious
than this one we call Friendship, oh to what a Monster would
this trans-shape me, to be made that he to violate such goodness!
To kill any had been a sad Injunction, but a Friend! nay, of all
Friends the most approved! A Task, hell till this day could never
parallel! And yet this woman ha's a power of me beyond all
be in this? unless she apprehend some fantasie that no such thing
ha's being:—and as kinred and claims to Crowns are worn out
of the world, so the name Friend? 'Tmay be 'twas her conceit.
I have tryed those that have professed much for coin; nay sometimes
slighter courtesies, yet found 'em cold enough,—so perhaps
she, which makes her thus opinion'd.—If in the former,
and therefore better days, 'twas held so rare, who knows but in
these last and worser times, it may be now with justice banisht
th'earth. I'm full of thoughts, and this my troubled brest distemper'd
with a thousand fantasies, something I must resolve.
I'le first make proof if such a thing there be; which having found,
'Twixt Love and Friendship 'twill be a brave Fight,
To prove in man which claims the greatest right.
Enter Raymond, Eustace, Lyonel, and Grover.
Raym.
What, Master Lessingham!
You that were wont to be compos'd of mirth,
All spirit and fire.—Alacrity it self, like the lustre of a late
bright shining Sun, now wrapt in clouds and darkness!
Lyon.
Prithee be merry,
Thy dulness sads the half part of the house,
And deads that spirit which thou wast wont to quicken,
And half spent to give Life too.
Less.
Gentlemen, such as have cause for sport, I shall wish ever
To make of it the present benefit
While it exists.—Content is still short breathed,
When it was mine I did so. If now yours,
I pray make your best use on't.
Lyon.
Riddles and Paradoxes:
Come, come, some Crotchers come into thy pate,
And I will know the cause on't.
Grov.
So will I, or I protest ne're leave thee.
Eust.
'Tis a business proper to my self,—one that concerns
no second person.
Grov.
How's that? not a friend?
Less.
Why, is there any such?
Grov.
Do you question that? what do you take me for?
Eust.
I Sir, or me? 'Tis many moneths ago since we betwixt
Lyon.
Troth, nor mine.
Raym.
If you make question of a Friend, I pray
Number not me the last in your accompt,
That would be crown'd in your opinion first.
Less.
You all speak nobly. But amongst you all
Can such a one be found?
Raym.
Not one amongst us, but would be proud to wear the
character of noble Friendship. In the name of which, and of all
us here present, I intreat, expose to us the grief that troubles you.
Less.
I shall, and briefly: If ever Gentleman sunk beneath
scandal, or his reputation never to be recovered, suffered, and
for want of one whom I may call a Friend, then mine is now in
danger.
Raym.
I'le redeem't, though with my lifes dear hazard.
Eust.
I pray Sir, be to us open breasted.
Less.
Then 'tis thus: There is to be performed a Monamachy-Combat,
or Duel, Time, Place, and Weapon agreed betwixt
us. Had it toucht my self, and my self onely, I had then been
happy; but I by composition am engag'd to bring with me my
Second, and he too, not as the Law of Combat is, to stand aloof
and see fair play, bring off his friend, but to engage his person;
both must fight, and either of them dangerous.
Eust.
Of all things, I do not like this fighting.
Less.
Now Gentlemen, of this so great a courtesie
I am at this instant meerly destitute.
Raym.
The time.
Less.
By eight a clock to morrow.
Raym.
How unhappily things may fall out, I am just at that
hour upon some late conceived Discontents, to atone me to my
father, otherwise of all the rest you had commanded me your
Second, and your Servant.
Lyon.
Pray the Place?
Less.
Callis-Sands.
Lyon.
It once was fatal to a friend of mine, and a near kinsman,
for which I vowed then, and deeply too, never to see that
ground: But if it had been elsewhere, one of them had before
mine been worms-meat.
Grov.
What's the weapon?
Less.
Single-sword.
Grov.
Of all that you could name,
Ponyard, where men use rather sleight than force, I had been then
your Man; being young, I strained the sinews of my arm, since
then to me 'twas never serviceable.
Eust.
In troth Sir, had it been a money-matter,
I could have stood your friend, but as for sighting
I was ever out at that.
Exeunt Gallants.
Less.
Well, farewel Gentlemen,
But where's the Friend in all this? tush, she's wise,
Enter Bonvile.
And knows there's no such thing beneath the moon:
I now applaud her judgement.
Bon.
Why how now friend, this Discontent which now
Is so unseason'd, makes me question what
I ne're durst doubt before, your Love to me,
Doth it proceed from Envy of my Bliss
Which this day crowns me with? Or have you been
A secret Rival in my happiness?
And grieve to see me owner of those Joys,
Which you could wish your own?
Less.
Banish such thoughts,
Or you shall wrong the truest faithful Friendship
Man e're could boast of, oh mine honor, Sir,
'Tis that which makes me wear this brow of sorrow:
Were that free from the power of Calumny.
But pardon me, that being now a dying
Which is so near to man, if part we cannot
With pleasant looks.
Bon.
Do but speak the burthen, and I protest to take it off from
you, and lay it on my self.
Less.
'Twere a request, impudence without blushing could not
ask, it bears with it such injury.
Bon.
Yet must I know't.
Less.
Receive it then.—But I intreat you sir, not to imagine
that I apprehend a thought to further my intent by you, from you
'tis least suspected.—'Twas my fortune to entertain a Quarrel
with a Gentleman, the Field betwixt us challeng'd,—
place and time, and these to be performed not without Seconds.
I have rely'd on many seeming friends, but cannot bless my memory
Bon.
Is this all?
Less.
It is enough to make all temperature
Convert to fury.—Sir, my Reputation
(The life and soul of Honor) is at stake,
In danger to be lost.—The word of Coward
Still printed in the name of Lessingham.
Bon.
Not while there is a Bonvile.—May I live poor,
And die despised, not having one sad friend
To wait upon my Hoarse, if I survive
The ruine of that Honor.—Sir, the time?
Less.
Above all spare me—for that once known,
You'l cancel this your promise, and unsay
Your friendly proffer.—Neither can I blame you,
Had you confirmed it with a thousand Oathes,
The Heavens would look with mercy, not with justice
On your offence, should you enfringe 'em all.
Soon after Sun-rise upon Callis-sands,
To morrow we should meet—now to deferre
Time one half hour, I should but forfeit all.
But Sir, of all men living, this alas
Concerns you least;—For shall I be the man
To rob you of this nights felicity,
And make your Bride a Widow,—her soft bed
No witness of those joys this night expects?
Bon.
I still preferre my friend before my pleasure,
Which is not lost for ever—but adjourned
For more mature employment.
Less.
Will you go then?
Bon.
I am resolved I will.
Less.
And instantly?
Bon.
With all the speed celerity can make.
Less.
You do not weigh those inconveniences this Action
meets with.—Your departure hence will breed a strange distraction
in your friends, distrust of Love in your fair vertuous Bride,
whose eyes perhaps may never more be blest with your dear sight:
since you may meet a grave, and that not amongst your noble Ancestors,
but amongst strangers, almost enemies.
Bon,
This were enough to shake a weak resolve,
It moves not me. Take horse as secretly
With all speed possible, unknown to any.
Enter Annabel.
Less.
But Sir, the Bride.
An.
Did you not see the Key that's to unlock my Carckaner
and Bracelets? Now in troth I am afraid 'tis lost.
Bon.
No Sweet, I ha't: I found it lye at random in your
Chamber, and knowing you would miss it, laid it by: 'tis safe I
warrant you.
An.
Then my fear's past: but till you give it back, my Neck
and Arms are still your Prisoners.
Bon.
But you shall finde they have a gentle Jaylor.
An.
So I hope. Within y'are much enquired of.
Bon.
Sweet, I follow. Dover?
Less.
Yes, that's the place.
Bon.
If you be there before me, hire a Barque, I shall not fail
to meet you.
Exeunt.
Less.
Was ever known a man so miserably blest as I? I have
have no sooner found the greatest good, man in this pilgrimage of
Life can meet, but I must make the womb where 'twas conceived,
the Tomb to bury it, and the first hour it lives,
That sways and governs above womans hate.
Exit.
| A Cure for a Cuckold | |