University of Virginia Library

Actus Secundus

Scæna prima.

Enter Captaine Ager.
Capt.
The Sonne of a VVhore?
There is not such another murdring piece
In all the stocke of Calumny: it kils
At one report two reputations,
A mothers and a Sonnes: if it were possible
That soules could fight after the bodies fell,
This were a quarrell for 'em; he should be one indeed
That neuer heard of heauens ioyes or hels torments
To fight this out: I am too full of conscience,
Knowledge and patience, to giue Iustice too't,
So carefull of my Eternity, which consists
Of vpright actions: that vnlesse I knew
It were a truth I stood for, any Coward
Might make my breast his footepace, & who liues
That can assure the truth of his conception,
More then a mothers carriage makes it hopefull.
And i'st not miserable valour then,
That man should hazard all vpon things doubtfull
Oh ther's the cruelty of my foes aduantage,
Could but my soule resolue my cause were iust,
Earth's mountaine, nor seas surge should hide him from mee,
Ee'ne to hells threshold would I follow him,
And see the slanderer in before I left him,
But as it is it feares me, and I neuer
Appeard too conscionably iust till now:
My good oppinion of her life and Vertues,
Bids me goe on: and faine would I be ruld by't,
But when my iudgement tels me shees but woman,
Whose fraile to let in death to all mankinde,
My valour shrinkes at that, certaine shees good,
There onely wants but my assurance in't,
And al things thē were perfect how I thirst for't,
Heere comes the onely shee that could resolue,
But 'tis too vild a question to demand indeed.

Enter the Lady Ager.
La.
Sonne I'ue a suite to you.

Capt.
That may doe well.
To me good Madame, you're most sure to speed in't.
Beet i'my power to grant it,

La.
Tis my loue
Makes the request, that you would neuer parte
From England more,

Capt:
With all my heart tis graunted,
I'me sure Ime i'th way neuer to part from't,

La.
Where left you your deare friend the Colonel?

Capt.
Oh the deare Colonel, I should meete him soone,

La.
Oh faile him not then, hees a Gentleman
The fame and reputation of your time
Is much engadg'de to.

Capt.
Yes, and you knew all mother.

La.
I thought I'de knowne so much of his faire goodnes,
More could not haue bin look't for.

Capt.
O yes, yes Madam.
And this his last exceeded all the rest.

La.
For gratitudes sake let me know this, I prethee.

Capt.
Then thus, and I desire your censure freely,
Whether it appeard not a strange noble kindnes in him.

Lady.
Trust me I long to hear't,

Capt.
You know hees hasty,
That by the way.

Lady.
So are the best conditions
Your Father was the like.

Capt.
I begin now
To doubt me more, why am not I so too then,
Blood followes blood through forty generations,
And I'ue a slow pac't wrath, a shrewd Dilemma,

Lady.
Well, as you were saying sir,

Capt.
Marry thus good Madame,
There was in company a foule mouth'd villaine, stay, stay,
Who should I liken him to, that you haue seene,
He comes so neere one that I would not match him with,
Faith iust a'th Colonels pitch, hees nere the worse man,
Vserers haue bin compard ro Magistrates,
Extortiners to Lawyers, and the like,
But they all proue nere the worse men for that,

Lady.
Thats bad enough, they need not,

Capt.
This rude fellow,
A shame to all humanity or manners,
Breaths from the rottenes of his gall and mallice,
The foulest staine that euer mans fame blemisht,
Part of which fell vpon your honor Madame,
VVhich heighthend my affliction.

Lad.
Mine? my honor sir?

Capt.
The Colonel soone inrag'd,
(As hee's all touch-wood)
Takes fire before me, makes the quarrell his,
Appoynts the Field, my wrath could not be heard
His was so high pitcht, so gloriously mounted,
Now whats the friendly feare, that fights within mee,
Should his braue noble Fury vndertake,
A cause that were vniust in our defence,
And so to loose him euerlastingly,
In that darke depth where all bad quarrells sinke,
Neuer to rise againe, what pitty twere,
First to dye heere and neuer to dye there.

Lady,
Why whats the quarrel, speake sir: that should raise
Such fearefull doubt, my honour bearing part on't:
The words what ere they were:

Capt.
Son of a whore.

La.
Thou lyest, & were my loue ten thousand times more to thee,
Which is as much now, as ere mothers was,
So thou shouldst feele my anger. Do'st thou call
That quarrel doubtfull; where are all my merites,
Strikes him.
Not one stand vp to tell this man his error.
Thou might'st as well bring the Sun's truth in question,
As thy birth or my honour.

Capt.
Now blessings crown you for't,
It is the ioyful'st blow that ere flesh felt.

Lady.
Nay stay, stay sir, thou art not left so soone,
This is no question to be slighted of,
And at your pleasure closde vp fayre agen,
As though you'de neuer toucht it, no honour doubted,
Is honour deepely wounded, and it rages
More then a common smart, being of thy making.
For thee to feare my truth, it kils my comfort,
Where should fame seeke for her reward, when he
That is her owne by the great tye of bloud,
Is fardest of in bounty, O poore goodnes!
That onely pay'st thy selfe with thy owne works,
For nothing else looks towards thee. Tell me pray,
Which of my louing cares dost thou requite
With this vilde thought? which of my prayers or wishes?
Many thou owest me for, this seauen year hast thou known me
A widdow, onely married to my vow:
Thats no small witnesse of my faith and loue
To him that in life was thy honord Father,
And liue I now to know that good mistrusted.

Capt.
No, t'shall appeare that my beliefe is cherefull,
For neuer was a mothers reputation
Noblyer defended, tis my ioy and pride,
I haue a firme to bestow vpon it.

Lady.
Whats that you said sir?

Capt.
'Twere too bold, and soone yet
To craue forgiuenesse of you. I will earne it first,
Dead or aliue, I know I shall enioy it.

Lady.
Whats all this sir?

Capt.
My ioyes beyond expression:
I do but thinke how wretched I had been,
Were this anothers quarrell, and not mine.

Lady.
Why, is it yours?

Capt.
Mine! Thinke me not so miserable,
Not to be mine: then were I worse then abiect,
More to be loathde then vilenes; or sins dunghill:
Nor did I feare your goodnes (faithfull Madame)
But came with greedy ioy to be confirmde in't,
To giue the nobler onset, then shines valour,
And admiration from her fix't Sphere drawes,
When it comes burnisht with a righteous cause,
Without which I'me ten sadomes vnder coward,
That now am ten degrees aboue a man,
VVhich is but one of vertues easiest wonders.

Lady.
But pray stay; all this while I vnderstood you,
The Colonel was the man.

Capt.
Yes, hee's the man,
The man of iniury, reproach and slander,
Which I must turne into his soule again.

Lady.
The Colonell doo't, thats strange.

Capt.
The villaine did it:
Thats not so strange;—your blessing and your leaue

Lady.
Come, come, you shall not goe.

Capt.
Not goe; were death
Sent now to summon me to my Eternity,
I'de put him off an howre: why the whole world
Ha's not chains strong inough to bind me from't:
The strongest is my Reuerence to you,
VVhich if you force vpon me in this case;
I must be forc'st to breake it.

Lady.
Stay I say.

Capt.
In any thing commaund me but in this Madame.

La.
Lasse, I shall loose him, you'le heare me first.

Capt.
At my returne I will.

Lady.
Youl'e neuer heare me more then.

Capt.
How?

Lady.
Come backe I say:
You may well thinke theres cause I call so often.

Capt.
Hah, cause! what cause?

Lady.
So much, you must not goe.

Capt.
How?

Lady.
You must not goe.

Capt.
Must not, why?

Lady.
I know a reason for't,
VVhich I could wish you'd yeeld to, & not know
If not, it must come forth. Faith, do not know,
And yet obey my will.

Capt.
Why I desire
To know no other then the cause I haue,
Nor should you wish it, if you take your iniury
For one more great, I know the world includes not.

Lady.
Yes, one that makes this nothing,—yet be rulde,
And if you vnderstand not, seeke no further.

Capt.
I must, for this is nothing.

Lady.
Then take all,
And if amongst it you receiue that secret
That will offend you, though you condemn mee,
Yet blame your selfe a little, for perhaps
I would haue made my reputation sound
Vpon an others hazard with lesse pitty;
But vpon yours I dare not.

Capt.
How?

Lady.
I dare not,
'Twas your owne seeking; this.

Capt.
If you meane euilly
I cannot vnderstand you, nor for all the riches
This life has, would I.

La.
would you neuer might.

Capt.
Why, your goodnes, that I ioy to fight for.

Lady.
In that you neither right your ioy nor me.

Capt.
What an ill Orator has vertue got here?
Why, shal I dare to thinke it a thing possible
That you were euer false?

Lady.
Oh fearefully!
As much as you come to.

Capt.
Oh silence, couer me.
I'ue felt a deadlier wound then man can giue me, false?

Lady.
I was betraide to a most sinfull howre
By a corrupted soule I put in trust once,
A Kinswoman.

Capt.
Where is shee? let me pay her.

Lady.
Oh, dead long since.

Capt.
Nay then sh'as all her wages:
False, do not say't, for honors goodnes doe not,
You neuer could be so, he I calde Father,
Deserud you at your best, when youth & merit
Could boast at highest in you, y'ade no gtace,
Or vertue that he matcht not, no delight
That you inuented but he sent it crownde
To your full wishing soule.

Lady.
That heapes my guiltinesse.

Cap.
Oh, were you so vnhappy to be false,
Both to your selfe and me, but to me chiefly,
What a dayes hope is here lost, and with it
The ioyes of a iust cause. Had you but thought
On such a noble quarrell, you'd ha dyed
Ere you'd ha yeelded, for the sins hate first,
Next for the shame of this howres cowardize:
Curst be the heate that lost me such a cause,
A worke that I was made for. Quench my spirit,
And out with honors flaming lights within thee:
Be darke and dead to all respects of manhood,
I neuer shall haue vse of valour more:
Put off your vow for shame, why should you hoarde vp
Such Iustice for a barren widdowhood,
That was so iniurious to the faith of wedlocke.
Exit Lady.
I sheuld be dead, for all my lifes works ended,
I dare not fight a stroke now, nor engadge
The noble resolution of my friends,
Enter two friends of Captaine Agers.
That were more vilde. Their here, kill me my shame,
I am not for the fellowship of honour.

1. Friend.

Captaine, fie come sir, we haue been seeking for you
very late to day, this was not wout to be,

Your enemies ith field,

Capt.
Truth enters cheerefully.

2 Friend.
Good faith sir y'aue a royall quarrell on't,

Capt.
Yes, in some other Country, Spaine or Italy.
It would be held so.

1 Friend.
How, and ist not here so?

Capt.
Tis not so contumeliously receiude
In these parts, and you marke it.

1 Friend.
Not in these?
Why prithee what is more, or can be?

Capt.
Yes,
That ordinary Commotioner the lye
Is Father of most quarrels in this Clymate,
And held here capitall, and you go to that.

2. Fr.
But sir, I hope you will not go to that,
Or change your owne for it, Sonne of a Whore,
Why theres the Lye downe to posterity.
The lye to brithe, the lye to honesty,
Why would you cussen your selfe so, and beguile
So braue a cause, Manhoods best Master peece,
Doe you euer hope for one so braue agen.

Capt.
Consider then the man Colonell,
Exactly worthy, absolutely noble,
How euer spleene and rage abuses him:
And tis not wel, nor manly to pursue
A mans infirmity.

1 Friend.
O miracle!
So hopefull, valiant and compleate a Captaine,
Possest with a tame deuill, come out, thou spoilest
The most improude yong souldier of seuen kingdoms,
Made Captaine at nineteene, which was deserude
The yeare before, but honor comes behind still,
Come out I say, this was not wont to be,
That spirit neuer stood in need of prouocation,
Nor shall it now. Away sir.

Capt.
Vrge me not.

1. F.
By Manhoods reuerend honor but we must.

Capt.
I will not fight a stroake.

1. Friend.
O blasphemy
To sacred valour!

Capt.
Leade me where you lift.

1. Friend.
Pardon this trayterous slumber, clogd with euils.
Giue Captaines rather wiues then such tame diuels.

Exeunt.
Enter Physitian and Iane.
Ph.
Nay Master, you must not be couer'd to me,
The Patient must ope to the Physitian
All her dearest sorrowes: Art is blinded else,
And cannot shew her misticall effects.

Iane.
Can Art be so dimsighted, learned sir?
I did not thinke her so incapacious:
You traine me (as I guesse) like a Coniurer,
One of our fiue Oraculous wizards,
who from the helpe of his Examinant,
By the neare guesse of his suspition
Appoints out the thiefe by the marks he tels him:
Haue you no skill in Phisiognomie?
what colour (sayes your coat) is my disease?
I am vnmarried, and it cannot be yellow,
If it be Mayden greene, you cannot misse it.

Phis.
I cannot see that vacuum in your bloud:
But Gentlewoman, if you loue your selfe,
Loue my aduise, be free and plaine with me,
where lyes your griefe?

Iane.
Where lyes my griefe indeed?
I cannot tell the truth where my griefe lyes,
But my Ioy's imprison'd.

Phis.
This is misticall.

Ian.
Lord, what plaine questions you make problemes of,
Your Art is such a regular high way
That put you out of it, and you are lost:
My heart is imprison'd in my body, sir:
Theres all my ioy, and my sorrow too
Lyes very neere it.

Phys.
They are bad adiuncts,
Your ioy and griefe lying so neare together,
Can propagate no happy issue, remoue
The one (and let it be the worst) your griefe,
If youl'e propose the best vnto your ioy.

Iane.
why, now comes your skill: what physicke for it?

Phis.
Now I haue found you out, you are in loue.

Iane.
I thinke I am, what your appliance now?
Can all your Paracelsian mixtures cure it,
'Tmust be a Surgeon of the Ciuill Law,
I feare that must cure me.

Phi.
Gentlewoman,
If you knew well my heart, you would not bee
So circuler, the very common name
Of Physitian might reproue your nicenesse,
wee are as secret as your Confessors,
And as firme oblig'd, tis a fine like death
For vs to blab.

Iane.
I will trust you, yet sir,
I had rather doe it by Atturney to you,
I else haue blushes that will stop my tongue
Haue you no friend so friendly as your selfe
Of mine owne Sexe, to whom I might impart
My sorrowes to you at the second hand.

Phi.
why law, there I hit you, & be confirmde,
Ile giue you such a bosome counsellour,
That your own tong shall be sooner false to you,
Make your selfe vnready, and be naked to her:
Ile fetch her presently.
Exit Physitian.

Iane.
I must reueale
My shame will else take tongue, & speake before me,
Tis a necessity impulsiue driues me:
Oh my hard fate, but my more hard father,
That Father of my fate, a father said I?
What a strange Paradoxe I run into,
I must accuse two fathers of my fate
And fault, a reciprocall generation,
The father of my fault would haue repairde,
His faulty issue, but my Fates Father hinders it:
Then Fate and fault, where euer I begin,
I must blame both, and yet 'twas loue did sinne.

Enter Physitian, and Anne his sister.
Phy.
Looke you Mistres, heres's your closet put in,
What you please, you euer keep the key of it.

Iane.
Let me speake priuate, sir.

Phy.
Withall my heart,
I will be more then mine eares length from you.

Iane.
You hold fome indeared place with this Gent.

An.
Hee's my brothet forsooth, I his creature,
He does command me any lawfull office
Eyther in act or counsell.

Iane.
I must not doubt you,
Your brother ha's protested secresie,
And strengthned me in you: I must lay ope
A guilty sorrow to you: I am with child,
Tis no blacke Swan I show you, these spots sticke
Vpon the face of many goe for maides,
I that had face ynough to do the deed,
Cannot want tongue to speake it: but tis to you,
Whom I accept my helper.

Anne.
Mistris, tis lock't
Within a Castle that's inuincible,
It is too late to wish it were vndone.

Ia.
I haue scarce a wish within my selfe so strong
For vnderstand me, tis not all so ill,
As you may yet conceit it: this deed was done
VVhen heauen had witnes to the Iugall knot,
Onely the barren ceremonie wants.
Which by an aduerse Father is a bridged.

Anne.
Would my pitty could helpe you.

Iane.
Your counsell may.
My Father yet shootes widest from my sorrow,
And with a care indulgent seeing me chang'd
From what I was, sends for your good brother
To finde my griefe, and practise remedy:
You know it, giue it him, but if a fourth
Be added to this counsell: I will say
Ye' are worse then you can call me at the worst.
At this aduantage of my reputation.

Anne.
I will reuiue a reputation,
That women long has lost, ile keepe counsell.
Ile onely now oblige my teeth to you,
And they shall bite the blabber if it offer
To breath on an offending syllable.

Iane.
I trust you, go, whisper, here comes my Father.

Enter Russell, Chawgh, and Trimtram.
Russ.
Sir, you are welcome, more and most welcome,
All the degrees of welcome: thrice welcome sir.

Chaw.
Is this your daughter, sir?

Russ.
Mine onely ioy sir.

Chaw.

Ile shew her the Cornish hug, sir,—I haue kist
you now sweet heart, and I neuer doe any kindnesse to
my friendes, but I vse to hitte 'am in the teeth with it presently.

Trim.

My name is Trimtram forsooth, looke what my master
does, I vse to doe the like.

Anne.

You are deceiu'd, sir, I am not this Gentlewomans
seruant, to make your courtesie equall.

Chaw.

You doe not know me Mistresse.

Iane.

No indeed, I doubt I shall learne too soone.

Chaw.

My name is Chawgh, a Cornish Gentleman, my
mans mine owne countriman too yfaith: I warrant, you
tooke vs for some of the small Islanders.

Iane.

I did indeed, betweene the Scotch and Irish.

Chaw.

Red-shankes: I thought so by my truth, no truely,
we are right Cornish Diamonds.

Trim.
Yes, we cut out quarrels, and breake glasses, where wee goe.

Phis.
If it be hidden from her Father, yet
His ignorance vnderstands well his knowledge,
For this (I guesse) to be some rich coxcombe
Hee'de put vpon his daughter,

An.
Thats plainely so.

Phys.
Then only shee's beholding to out helpe
For the close deliuery of her burden,
Else all's ouerthrowne.

An.
And pray be faithfull in that, sir.

Phys.
Tush, we Physitians are the truest
Alchymists, that from the ore and drosse of sinne,
Can new distill a Maydenhead agen.

Russ.
How doe you like her sir?

Chaw.

Troth I doe like her sir in the way of comparison
to any thing that a man would desire. I am as high as the
Mount in loue with her already, and thats as far as I can go
by land, but I hope to goe further by water with her one day.

Russ.
I tell you sir, she has lost some colour,
By wrastling with a peeuish sicknes now of late.

Chaw.

Wrastle? nay and she loue wrastling, Ile teach her a
tricke to ouerthrow any peeuish sicknes in London, what ere
it be.

Russ.
Well, she had a rich beauty though I say't,
Nor is it lost: a little thing repayres it.

Chaw.

Shee shall commaund the best thing that I haue in Middlesex,
yfaith.

Kuss.
Well sir, talke with her, giue her a relish
Of your good liking to her, you shall haue time
And free accesse to finish what you now begin,

Iane.
What meanes my father? my loues vniust restraint,
My shame were it publisht, both together
Could not afflict me like this odious foole:
Now I see why he hated my Fitz-Allen.

Chaw.

Sweet Lady, your father sayes you are a wrastler,

if you loue that sport, I loue you the better. Ifaith I loue it
as well as I loue my meate after supper, tis indeed meate,
drinke and cloth to me.

Iane.

Me thinkes it should teare your clothes, sir.

Chaw.

Not a rag yfaith: Trimtram hold my cloake,—Ile
wrastle a fall with you now, Ile show you a tricke that you
neuer saw in your life.

Iane.

Oh good sir forbeare, I am no wrastlet.

Phy.

Good sir take heed, you'le hurt the Gentlewoman.

Chaw.

I will not catch beneath the waste belieue it, I
know fayre play,

Iane.

Tis no womans exercise in London, sir.

Chaw.

I'le nere belieue that, the hug and the locke betweene
man and woman, with a fayre fall, is as sweete an
exercise for the body, as you'l desire in a sommers euening.

Phy.

Sir, the Gentlewoman is not well,

Chaw,

It may be you are a Physitian, sir.

Phys.

Tis so, sir.

Chaw.

I say then, and ile stand too't, three ounces of
wrastling with two hippes, a yard of a greene gowne put
together in the Intourne, is as good a medicine for the
greene sicknesse as euer breathd.

Trim.

Come sir, take your cloake agen, I see here wil be
nere a match.

Iane.

A match? I'de rather bee matcht from a Muskets
mouth, and shot vnto my death.

Chaw.
Ile wrastle with any man for a good supper.

Trim.
I marry sir, ile take your part there, catch that catch may.

Phy.
Sir, she is willing too't. There at my house,
She shall be priuate, and neare to my attendance,
I know you not mistrust my faithfull care,
I shall retutne her soone and perfectly.

Russ,
Take your charge sir, go with this gentleman (Iane)

But prithee looke well this way, ere thou go'st,
'Tis a rich Simplicity of great Estate:
A thing that will be rul'd, and thou shalt rule,
Consider of your sexes generall ayme.
That domination is a womans heauen.

Iane.
I'le thinke on't sir.

Russ.
My daughter is retiring, sir.

Chaw.

I will part at Dartmouth with her, sir, Oh that thou
didst but loue wrastling, I would giue any man three foiles
on that condition.

Trim.

There's three sorts of men that would thanke you
for 'um, eyther Cutlers, Fencers, or Players.

Russ.

Sir as I began, I end, wondrous welcome.

Exit Russ. Iane, Phys. An.

Trim.

What, will you go to schoole to day? you are enterd
you know, and your quarterige runs on.

Chaw.

What? to the roaring schoole? pox on't, 'tis such
a damnable noyse, I shall neuer attaine it neyther: I doe
wonder they haue neuer a Wrastling Schoole, that were
worth twenty of your fencing or dancing schooles.

Trim.

Wel, you must learne to roare here in London, you'le
neuer proceede in the reputation of Gallantrie else.

Chaw.

How long ha's Roaring been an exercise, thinkest
thou Trimtram.

Trim.

Euer since Guns came vp, the first was your roaring Meg

Ch.

Meg? Then 'twas a woman was the first roarer:

Trim.

I, a fire of her tuch-hole, 'that cost many a proper
mans life since that time: and then the Lyons they learn't
it from the Guns, liuing so neare 'um, then it was heard to
the Banckeside, and the Beares they beganne to roare:
then the boyes got it, and so euer since there haue beene a
company of roaring boyes.

Chaw.

And how long will it last, thinkest thou?

Trim.

As long as the Water runs vnder London Bridge, or
Watermen at Westminster stayres.

Chaw.

Well, I will beginne to roare too, since it is in fashion,
Oh Corineus, this was not in thy time, I should haue
heard on't by the tradition of mine Ancestors (for I'me sure
there were Chawghes in thy dayes) if it had beene so, when
Hercules and thou wert on the Olimpicke mount together,
then was wrastling in request.

Trim.

I, and that Mount is now the Mount in Cornwall.
Corineus brought it thither vnder one of his arms, they say.

Chaw.

Oh Corineus my predecessor: that I had but liu'd
in those dayes to see thee wrastle, on that condition I had
dyed seuen yeare ago.

Trim.

Nay, it should haue been a dozen at least, yfaith, on
that condition.

Exeunt.