A Faire Quarrell With new Additions of Mr. Chaughs and Trimtrams Roaring, and the Bauds Song |
 | 1. |
| 2. |
 | 3. |
Actus Tertius.
|
| 1. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
 | A Faire Quarrell |  |
Actus Tertius.
Scæna Prima.
Enter Captaine Ager with his two friends.Capt.
Well, your wils now.
1.
Our Wils? our Loues, our Duties
To honord Fortitude: What wils haue we
But our desires to Noblenes and Merit?
Valours aduancement, and the sacred Rectitude
Due to a valourous cause.
Capt.
Oh, thats not mine.
2.
War ha's his court of Iustice, that's the field,
Where all cases of Manhood are determinde,
And your case is no meane one.
Capt.
True, then 'twere vertuous:
But mine is in extreames, fowle and vniust:
Well, now y'aue got me hither, y'are as far
To seeke in your desire, as at first minute:
For by the strength and honour of a vow,
I will not lift a finger in this quarrell.
1.
How? not in this? be not so rash a sinner:
Why sir, doe you euer hope to fight agen then
Take heede on't, you must neuer looke for that,
Why the vniuersall stocke of the Worlds iniury,
Will bee too poore to finde a quarrell for you:
Giue vp your right and title to desert, sir,
If you fayle vertue here, shee needes you not:
All your time after, let her take this wrong,
And neuer presume then to serue her more:
And let that honourable name of Souldier
Fall from you like a shiuered wreath of Lawrell
By Thunder strucke from a desertlesse forehead,
That weares anothers right by vsurpation.
Good Captaine, do not wilfully cast away
At one houre all the fame your life ha's won:
This is your natiue seate, here you should seeke
Most to preserue it, or if you will doate
So much on life (poore life) which in respect
Of life in honour is but death and darknesse
That you will proue neglectfull of your selfe,
Which is to me too fearefull to imagine,
Yet for that vertuous Ladies cause (your mother)
Her Reputation, deere to Noblenesse
As grace to penitence, whose fayre memory,
Ee'n crowns fame in your issue, for that blessednes,
Giue not this ill place, but in spite of hell,
And all her base feares, be exactly valiant,
Capt.
Oh—o—o
2.
Why, well sayd, thetes fayre hope in that,
Another such a one.
Capt.
Came they in thousands?
Tis all against you.
1.
Then poore friendlesse merite,
Heauē be good to thee, thy professor leaues thee:
Enter Colonell and his two friends.
Hee's comd, do but you draw, wee'le fight it for you.
Capt.
I know too much to grant that.
1.
O dead manhood!
Had euer such a cause so faynt a seruant?
Shame brand me if I do not suffer for him.
Colo.
Iu'e heard sir, ya'ue bin guilty of much boasting,
For your braue earlines at such a meeting,
Y'aue lost the glory of that way this morning:
I was the first to day.
Capt,
So were you euer.
1.
O most base Præludium!
Capt.
I neuer thought on Victory our Mistres
With greater reuerence then I haue your worth,
Nor euer lou'd her better.
1.
Slight, I could knocke his braines about his heeles,
mee thinkes.
2.
Peace, prithee peace.
Capt.
Successe in you has beene my absolute ioy,
And when I haue wisht content, I haue wisht your friendship.
1.
Stay, let me but run him through the tongue a little,
Theres Lawyers bloud in't, you shal see foule geere streight
2.
Come you are as mad now, as hee's cowardous.
Col.
I came not hither sir for an Encomium.
1.
No, the more Coxcombe he, that clawes the head
Of your vaine glory with't!
Col.
I came prouided
For Stormes and Tempests, and the fowlest Season
That euer Rage let forth, or blew in wildnesse
From the incensed prison of mans bloud.
Capt.
Tis otherwise with me, I come with Mildnesse,
Peace, constant Amity, and calme Forgiuenes,
The weather of a Cristian and a friend.
1,
Giue me a valiant Turke, though not worth ten pence, rather.
Cap.
Yet sir, the world will iudge the iniury mine.
Insufferable mine, mine beyond iniury,
Thousands haue made a lesse wrong reach to hel,
I, and reioyc'st in his most endlesse vengeance,
(A miserable triumph, though a iust one)
But when I call to memory our long friendship
Me thinkes it cannot be too great a wrong.
That then I should not pardon, why should man,
Eor a poore hasty syllable or two,
(And vented onely in forgetfull fury)
Cheine all the hopes and riches of his soule
To the reuenge of that, dye, lost for euer:
For he that makes his last peace with his Maker
He must expect the same returne againe,
Whose venture is deceitfull. Must he not sir?
Col.
I see what I must do, fairely put vp agen:
For here'le be nothing done, I perceiue that.
Capt.
What shall be done in such a worthlesse businesse:
But to be sorry, and to be forgiuen.
You sir to bring repentance, and I pardon.
Col.
I bring repentance sir?
Capt.
If it be too much
To say Repentance: Call it what you please sir:
Chuse your owne word, I know you'r sorry for't, and thats as good.
Col.
I sorry? by fames honour, I am wrongd:
Doe you seeke for peace, and draw the quarrell larger?
Capt.
Then tis: I'me sorry that I thought you so.
1.
A Captaine, I could gnaw his title of.
Capt.
Nor is it any misbecomming vertue, sir,
In the best manlines to repent a wrong,
Which made me bold with you.
1.
I could cuff his head off,
2.
Nay: pish.
1.
Pox on him, I could eate his buttocke bak't me thinks.
Col.
So, once agen take thou thy peacefull rest then,
But as I put thee vp: I must proclaime
This Captaine here, both to his friends and mine,
That onely came to see fayre valour righted,
Offers to go away.
A base submissiue coward; so I leaue him.
Capt.
Oh, heauen has pittied my excessiue patience,
And sent me a cause: now I haue a cause:
A coward I was neuer:—Come you backe sir?
Col.
How?
Cap.
You left a coward here?
Col.
Yes sir, with you.
Cap.
Tis such base mettell sir: 'twill not be taken,
It must home agen with you.
2.
Should this be true now.
1.
Impossible, coward do more then bastard?
I prethee mocke me not, take heed you do not,
For if I draw once more, I shall grow terrible,
And rage will force me doe what will grieue honour.
Capt.
Ha, ha, ha.
Col.
He smiles, dare it be he? what thinke you Gentlemē?
Your iudgements, shall I not be cussend in him?
This cannot be the man? why he was bookish,
Made an inuectiue lately against fighting,
A thing introth that mou'de a little with me,
Put vp a fowler contumely far
Then thousand cowards came to, & grew thankfull
Capt.
Blessed remembrance in time of need?
I'de lost my honour else.
2.
Do you note his ioy?
Capt.
I neuer felt a more seuere necessity.
Then came thy excellent pitty. Not yet ready?
Haue you such confidence in my iust manhood:
That you dare so long trust me, and yet tempt me
Beyond the tolleration of mans vertue,
Why? would you be more cruel then your iniury?
Do you first take pride to wrong me, & then think me
Not worth your fury, do not vse me so:
I shall deceyue you then: sir, eyther draw,
And that not sleightingly, but with the care
Of your best preseruation; with that watchfulnes,
As you'd defend your selfe from circuler fire,
Your sins rage, or her Lord, this will require it,
Or you'le be too soone lost for I'ue an anger
Has gathered mighty strength against you: mighty;
Yet you shall find it honest to the last,
Noble and Fayre.
Col.
I'le ventur'te once agen.
And if't be but as true, as it is wondrous,
I shall haue that I come for; Your leaue Gent.
1.
If he should doo't indeed, & deceiues al now:
Stay, by this hand he offers; fights yfaith.
Fights: by this light he fights sir.
So me thinkes sir.
1.
An absolute Punto: hey.
2.
'Twas a Passado sir.
1.
Why let it passe, and 'twas, I'me sure, t'was somwhat,
Whats that now.
2.
Thats a Punto.
1.
O goe to then,
I knew 'twas not farre off: What a worlds this?
Is coward a more stirring meat then bastard, my Masters?
Put in more egges for shame when you get children,
And make it true Court custard.—Ho? I honor thee:
Tis right and fayre, and he that breathes against it,
He breathes against the iustice of a man,
And man to cut him off: tis no iniustice.
Thanks, thanks, for this most vnexpected noblenes.
Cap.
Truth neuer fayles her seruant, sir, nor leaues him
With the dayes shame vpon him.
1.
Th'ast redeemde
Thy worth to the same height 'twas first esteemde.
Exeunt Captaine and his friends.
Col. 1. Friend.
Alasse, how is it sir: giue vs some hope
Of your stay with vs: Let your spirit bee seene
Aboue your fortune, the best fortitude
Ha's been of Fate ill friended: Now force your Empire,
And raigne aboue your bloud, spite of deiection,
Reduce the Monarchie of your abler mind,
Let not flesh streighten it,
Col.
Oh, iust Heauen has found me,
And turnde the strings of my too hasty Iniuries
Into my owne bloud, I pursude my ruine,
And vrgde him past the patience of an Angell.
Could mans reuenge extend beyond mans life:
This would ha' wak't it, If this flame will light me
But till I see my sister: tis a kinde one.
More I expect not from't, Noble deseruer:
Farewell most valiant, and most wrong'd of men,
Exeunt, led by them.
Do but forgiue me & I am Victor then.
Phys.
Sweet Fro, to your most indulgent care,
Take this my hearts ioy, I must not tell you,
The valew of this iewell in my bosome.
Nur.
Dat you may vell sir, der can niet forstoore you.
Ph.
Indeed I cannot tell you, you know Nurse,
These are aboue the quantity of prise,
Where is the glory of the goodliest trees
But in the fruit and branches? The old stocke
Must decay, and sprigs, syens such as these
Must become new stockes from vs to glory,
In their fruitfull issue, so we are made
Immortall on by other.
Nur.
You spreke a most licben fader, and Ick sall do de
best of tender Nurses to dis Infant, my prettie Frokin.
Phys.
I know you will be louing, here sweet friend,
Giue. money.
Heere's earnest of a large summe of loue and coyne.
To quit your tender care.
Iane.
I haue some reason too,
Giues her money.
To purchase your deare care vnto this Infant.
Nurs.
You be de witnesse of de Baptime, dat is, as you
spreken: de godimother, ick vell forstoor it so.
Iane.
Yes, I am the bad mother: If it be offence.
Aside.
Ann.
I must be a little kinde too.
Giues her money.
Nurs.
Much tankes to you all: dis child is much belouen:
and Ick sall see much care ouer it.
Phys.
Farewell good sister: Show her the way forth,
I shall often visite you, kind Nurse.
Nurs.
You sall be velcome.
Exeunt Ann. and Nurse.
Iane.
Oh sir, what a friend haue I found in you?
Where my poore power shall stay in the requitall,
Your selfe must from your fayre condition
Make vp in meere acceptance of my will.
Phys.
Oh, pray you vrge it not, we are not borne
For our selues onely, selfe loue is a sinne,
But in our louing donatiues to others,
Mans vertue best consists, loue all begets,
Iane.
Your boundlesse loue I cannot satisfie,
But with a mentall memory of your vertues,
Yet let me not ingage your cost withall,
Beseech you then take restitution
Of paines and bounty which you haue disburst
For your poore debter.
Phys.
You will not offer it:
Doe not esteeme my loue so mercenary,
To be the hyre of coyne? Sure, I shall thinke
You doe not hold so worthily of me
As I wish to deserue.
Iane.
Not recompence!
Then you will begger me with too much credit,
If not sufficient, you preserue my name,
Which I had forfeyted to shame and scorne:
Couer my vices with a vaile of loue,
Defend and keepe me from a fathers rage,
Whose loue yet infinite (not knowing this)
Might (knowing) turne a hate as infinite:
Sure he would throw me euer from his blessings,
And cast his curses on me: yes, further,
Your secresie keepes me in the state of woman:
For else what husband would chuse me his wife:
Knowing the honour of a Bride were lost.
I cannot number halfe the good you doe me,
In the concealde retention of my sinne,
Then make me not worse then I was before.
In my ingratitude, good sir.
Phys.
Agen.
I shall repent my loue (if you'le so call't)
To be made such a Hackney, giue me coyne?
I had as leaue you gaue me poyson (Lady)
For I haue Art and Antidotes gain'st that,
I might take that, but this I will refuse.
Ian.
Well you then teach me how I may requite you,
In some small quantity.
'T was that I look't for.
Aside.
Yes, I will tell you Lady a full quittance,
And how you may become my Creditresse.
Iane.
I beseech you do sir.
Phys.
Indeed I will Lady,
Not in coyne, Mistris, for siluer though white,
Yet it drawes blacke lines: It shall not rule my palme
There to marke forth his base corruption:
Pay me agen in the same quality
That I to you tendred, thats loue for loue:
Can you loue me Lady? you haue confest
My loue to you.
Iane.
Most amply.
Phy.
Why faith then,
Pay me backe that way.
Iane.
How do you meane, sir?
Phys.
Tush, our meanings are better vnderstood
Then shifted to the tongue, it brings along
A little blabbing bloud into our cheekes,
That shames vs when we speake.
Iane.
I vnderstand you not.
Phy.
Fie, you doe, make not your selfe ignorant
In what you know, you haue tane forth the lesson
That I would read to you.
Iane.
Sure then I need not,
Reade it agen, sir.
Phy.
Yes, it makes perfect,
You know the way vnto Achillis speare,
If that hurt you, I haue the cure you see.
Ian.
Come, y'are a good man, I do perceiue you:
You put a tryall to me, I thanke you,
Y'are my iust Confessor, and beleeue me,
I'le haue no further penance for this sinne.
Conuert a yeare vnto a lasting euer,
And call't Apollo's smile, 'twas once then neuer.
Phy.
Pray you mistake me not, indeed I loue you.
Iane.
Indeed, what deed?
The deed that you haue done.
Iane.
I cannot belieue you.
Phy.
Belieue the deed then.
Iane.
Away, y'are a Blackamore, you loue me?
I hate you for your loue: Are you the man
That in your painted outside seem'd so white?
Oh, y'are a foule dissembling Hypocrite,
You sau'd me from a thiefe that your selfe might rob me,
Skin'd 'ore a greene wound to breed an vlcer.
Is this the practise of your Physicke Colledge?
Phys.
Haue you yet vtter'd all your nicenesse forth?
If you haue more, vent it, certes I thinke
Your first grant was not yeelded with lesse paine,
If 'twere, you haue your prise, yeeld it againe.
Iane.
Pray you, tell me sir, (I ask't it before)
Is it a practise 'mongst you Physitians.
Phy.
Tush, thats a secret, We cast al waters.
Should I reueale, you would mistrust my counsell:
The Lawyer and Physitian here agrees
To women Clients they giue backe their fees,
And is not that kindnesse?
Iane.
This for thy loue,
Spits,
Out, outside of a man: thou Cynamon tree,
That but thy bark hast nothing good about thee
The Vnicorne is hunted for his horne,
The rest is left for carion: Thou false man.
Tha'st fisht with siluer hookes and golden baites:
But I'le auoyde all thy deceiuing sleights.
Phys.
Doe what you list, I will do somthing too:
Remember yet what I haue done for you,
Y'aue a good face now, but 'twill grow rugged.
Ere you grow old: old men will despise you:
Think on your Grandam Helen the fairest Queen
When in a new glasse she spyed her old face:
Shee (smiling) wept to thinke vpon the change,
Take your time, y'are craz'd, y'are an apple falne
From the tree, if you be kept long, you'le rot.
If you refuse I haue a hand aboue.
Exit Phys.
Iane.
Poyson thy selfe, thou foule Empoysoner:
Of thine owne practique drinke the Theorie.
What, a White Diuill haue I met withall?
What shall I doe? What do? i'st a question?
Nor shame, nor hate, nor feare, nor lust, nor force
(Now being too bad) shall euer make mee worse,
Enter Anne.
What haue we here? a second spirit.
Anne.
Mistresse,
I am sent to you.
Iane.
Is your message good?
Anne.
As you receyue it, my brother sent me,
And you know he loues you.
Iane,
I heard say so;
But 'twas a false report.
Anne.
Pray, pardon me, I must doe my message,
Who liues (commanded) must obey his Keeper.
I must perswade you to this act of woman.
Iane.
Woman! of Strumpet
Anne.
Indeed of Strumpet,
He takes you at aduantage of your fall,
Seeing you downe before.
Iane.
Curse on his fained smiles.
An.
Hee's my brother Mistresse, & a curse on you
If ere you blesse him with that cursed deede,
Hang him, poyson him, he held out a Rose,
To draw the yeelding sence, which come to hand
He shifts, and giues a canker.
Iane.
You speake well yet.
Ann.
I, but Mistresse, now I consider it,
Your reputation lyes at his mercy,
Your fault dwels in his brest, say, he throw it out,
It will be knowne, how are you then vndone?
Thinke on't, your good name, and they are not to be solde,
In euery market, a good name's deare,
And indeed more esteemed then our actions,
Iane.
Aye me most wretched.
Anne.
What? doe you shrinke at that?
Would you not weare one spot vpon your face,
To keepe your whole body from a leprosie,
Though it were vndiscouerd euer, hang him,
Feare him not. Horseleeches sucke out his corrupt bloud,
Draw you none from him, lesse it be pure and good.
Iane.
Do you speake your soule?
Anne.
By my soule doe I.
Iane.
Then yet I haue a friend; but thus exhort me,
And I haue still a collumbe to support me.
Anne.
One fault Heauen soone forgiues, and tis on earth forgot,
The Moone her selfe is not without one spot.
Exeunt.
Enter the Lady Ager, meeting one of her seruants.
Lady.
Now sir, where is he? speake, why comes he not?
I sent you for him; blesse this fellowes sences:
What has he seene? a soule nine houres entrancst,
Houering twixt hell and heauen, could not wake gastlier,
Enter Seruant.
Not yet returne an answere? What say you sir?
Where is he?
2. Ser.
Gon?
Lady.
What sayst thou?
2. Ser.
He is gone Madame.
But as we heard, vnwillingly hee went
As euer bloud enforc't.
La.
Went, whether went he?
2. Ser.
Madam, I feare, I ha said too much already.
La.
These men are both agreed, speake, whether went he?
2. Se.
Why to—I would you'd thinke the rest your selfe Madame.
Lady.
Meeke Patience blesse me.
2. Ser.
To the field.
1. Ser.
To fight, Madame.
Lady.
To fight!
1. Ser.
There came two vrging Gentlemen,
That cal'd themselues his seconds, both so powerfull,
As tis reported they preuailde with him,
With little labour.
O hees lost, hees gone,
For all my paines, hee's gone; two meeting torrents
Are not so mercilesse as their two rages,
Hee neuer comes agen,—wretched affection?
Haue I belied my faith? iniur'd my goodnes?
Slaunderd my honour for his præseruation?
Hauing but onely him: and yet no happier.
Tis then a iudgment plaine, truths angrie with mee,
In that I would abuse her sacred whitenesse,
For any wordly temporall respect:
Forgiue me then thou glorious womans vertue,
Admir'd where ere thy habitation is,
Especially in vs weake ones: Oh forgiue mee.
For tis thy vengeance this, to belie truth,
VVhich is so hardly ours, with such paine purchas'd
Fastings, and praiers, continence and care,
Misery must needs ensue. Let him not dye
In that vnchast beliefe of his false birth,
And my disgrace: VVhat euer Angell guides him,
May this request be with my teares obtaind,
Let his soule know, my honour is vnstaind,
Runne, seeke, away, if there be any hope,
Exeunt Seru.
Let me not loose him yet; when I thinke on him,
His deerenes, and his worth, it earnes me more,
They that know riches tremble to be poore.
My passion is not euery womans sorrow,
She must be truly honest feeles my greefe,
And onely knowne to One, if such there bee,
They know the sorrow that oppresseth mee.
Exit.
| A Faire Quarrell | |