 | The Fatall Dovvry |  |
Actus tertius
Scæna prima.
Enter Nouall Iunior, Bellapert.Nou. Iu.
Flie not to these excuses: thou hast bin
False in thy promise, and when I haue said
Vngratefull, all is spoke.
Bell.
Good my Lord, but heare me onely.
Nou.
To what purpose, trifler?
Can any thing that thou canst say, make voyd
The marriage? or those pleasures but a dreame,
Which Charaloyes (oh Uenus) hath enioyd?
Bell.
I yet could say that you receiue aduantage,
In what you thinke a losse, would you vouchsafe me
That you were neuer in the way till now
With safety to arriue at your desires,
That pleasure makes loue to you vnattended
By danger or repentance?
Nou.
That I could.
But apprehend one reason how this might be,
Hope would not then forsake me.
Bell.
The enioying
Of what you most desire, I say th'enioying
Shall, in the full possession of your wishes,
Confirme that I am faithfull.
Nou.
Giue some rellish
How this may appeare possible.
Bell.
I will
You say my Ladie's married. I confesse it,
That Charalois hath inioyed her, 'tis most true
That with her, hee's already Master of
The best part of my old Lords state. Still better,
But that the first, or last, should be your hindrance,
I vtterly deny; for but obserue me:
While she went for, and was, I sweare, a Virgin,
What courtesie could she with her honour giue
Or you receiue with safety—take me with you,
When I say courtesie, doe not thinke I meane
A kisse, the tying of her shoo or garter,
An houre of priuate conference: those are trifles.
In this word courtesy, we that are gamesters point at
The sport direct, where not alone the louer
Brings his Artillery, but vses it.
Which word expounded to you, such a courtesie
Doe you expect, and sudden.
Nou.
But he tasted the first sweetes, Bellapert.
Bell.
He wrong'd you shrewdly,
He toyl'd to climbe vp to the Phœnix nest,
And in his prints leaues your ascent more easie.
I doe not know, you that are perfect Crittiques
In womens bookes, may talke of maydenheads.
Nou.
But for her marriage.
Bell.
'Tis a faire protection
'Gainst all arrests of feare, or shame for euer.
Such as are faire, and yet not foolish, study
To haue one at thirteene; but they are mad
That stay till twenty. Then sir, for the pleasure,
To say Adulterie's sweeter, that is stale.
This onely is not the contentment more,
To say, This is my Cuckold, then my Riuall.
More I could say—but briefely, she doates on you,
It is proue otherwise, spare not, poyson me
With next gold you giue me.
Enter Beaumely.
Beau.
Hows this seruant, courting my woman?
Bell.
As an entrance to
And I am perfect in my qu.
Beau.
Stay Bellapert.
Bell.
In this, I must not with your leaue obey you.
Your Taylor and your Tire-woman waite without
And stay my counsayle, and direction for
Your next dayes dressing. I haue much to doe,
Nor will your Ladiship know, time is precious,
Continue idle: this choise Lord will finde
So fit imployment for you.
Exit Bellap.
Beau.
I shall grow angry.
Nou.
Not so, you haue a iewell in her, Madam.
Bell.
I had forgot to tell your Ladiship
Enter againe.
The closet is priuate and your couch ready;
And if you please that I shall loose the key,
But say so, and tis done.
Exit Bellap.
Baum.
You come to chide me, seruant, and bring with you
Sufficient warrant, you will say and truely,
My father found too much obedience in me,
By being won too soone: yet if you please
But to remember, all my hopes and fortunes
Had reuerence to this likening: you will grant
That though I did not well towards you, I yet
Did wisely for my selfe.
Nou.
With too much feruor
I haue so long lou'd and still loue you, Mistresse,
To esteeme that an iniury to me
Which was to your conuenient: that is past
My helpe, is past my cure. You yet may, Lady,
In recompence of all my dutious seruice,
(Prouided that your will answere your power)
Become my Creditresse.
Beau.
I vnderstand you,
And for assurance, the request you make
Shall not he long vnanswered. Pray you sit,
And by what you shall heare, you'l easily finde,
My passions are much fitter to desire,
Enter Romont and Florimell.
Flor.
Sir, tis not enuy
At the start my fellow has got of me in
My Ladies good opinion, thats the motiue
Of this discouery; but due payment
Or what I owe her Honour.
Rom.
So I conceiue it.
Flo.
I haue obseru'd too much, nor shall my silence
Preuent the remedy—yonder they are,
I dare not bee seene with you. You may doe
What you thinke fit, which wilbe, I presume,
The office of a faithfull and tryed friend
To my young Lord.
Exit Flori.
Rom.
This is no vision: ha!
Nou.
With the next opportunity.
Beau.
By this kisse, and this, and this.
Nou.
That you would euer sweare thus.
Rom.
If I seeme rude, your pardon, Lady; yours
I do not aske: come, do not dare to shew mee
A face of anger, or the least dislike.
Put on, and suddaily a milder looke,
I shall grow rough else.
Nou.
What haue I done, Sir,
To draw this harsh vnsauory language from you?
Rom.
Done, Popinjay? why, dost thou thinke that if
I ere had dreamt that thou hadst done me wrong,
Thou shouldest outliue it?
Beau.
This is something more
Then my Lords friendship giues commission for.
Nou.
Your presence and the place, makes him presume
Vpon my patience.
Rom.
As if thou ere wer't angry
But with thy Taylor, and yet that poore shred
Can bring more to the making vp of a man,
Then can be hop'd from thee: thou art his creature.
And did hee not each morning new create thee
On sillable more with thee, vntill thou bring
Some testimony vnder good mens hands,
Thou art a Christian. I suspect thee strongly,
And wilbe satisfied: till which time, keepe from me.
The entertaiment of your visitation
Has made what I intended on a businesse.
Nou.
So wee shall meete—Madam.
Rom.
Vse that legge againe, and Ile cut off the other.
Nou.
Very good.
Exit Nouall.
Rom.
What a perfume the Muske-cat leaues behind him!
Do you admit him for a property,
To saue you charges, Lady.
Beau.
Tis not vselesse,
Now you are to succeed him.
Rom.
So I respect you,
Not for your selfe, but in remembrance of,
Who is your father, and whose wife you now are,
That I choose rather not to vnderstand
Your nasty scoffe then,—
Beau.
What, you will not beate mee,
If I expound it to you. Heer's a Tyrant
Spares neyther man nor woman.
Rom.
My intents
Madam, deserue not this; nor do I stay
To bee the whetstone of your wit: preserue it
To spend on such, as know how to admire
Such coloured stuffe. In me there is now speaks to you
As true a friend and seruant to your Honour,
And one that will with as much hazzard guard it,
As euer man did goodnesse.—But then Lady,
You must endeauour not alone to bee,
But to appeare worthy such loue and seruice.
Beau.
To what tends this?
Rom.
Why, to this purpose, Lady,
I do desire you should proue such a wife
To Charaloys (and such a one hee merits)
Not onely innocent from crime, but free
From all taynt and suspition.
Beau.
They are base that iudge me otherwise.
Rom.
But yet bee carefull.
Detraction's a bold monster, and feares not
To wound the same of Princes, if it find
But any blemish in their liues to worke on,
But Ile bee plainer with you: had the people
Bin learnd to speake, but what euen now I saw,
Their malice out of that would raise an engine
To ouerthrow your honor. In my sight
(With yonder pointed foole I frighted from you)
You vs'd familiarity beyond
A modest entertaynment: you embrac'd him
With too much ardor for a stranger, and
Met him with kisses neyther chaste nor comely:
But learne you to forget him, as I will
Your bounties to him, you will find it safer
Rather to bee vncourtly, then immodest.
Beau.
This prety rag about your necke shews well,
And being coorse and little worth, it speakes you,
As terrible as thrifty.
Rom.
Madam.
Beau.
Yes.
And this strong belt in which you hang your honor
Will out-last twenty scarfs.
Rom.
What meane you, Lady?
Beau.
And all else about you Cap ape,
So vniforme in spite of handsomnesse,
Shews such a bold contempt of comelinesse,
That tis not strange your Laundresse in the League,
Grew mad with loue of you.
Rom.
Is my free counsayle.
Answerd with this ridiculous scorne?
Beau.
These obiects
Stole very much of my attention from me,
Deceyued grauely, but to little purpose,
That almost would haue made me sweare, some Curate
Had stolne into the person of Romont,
And in the praise of goodwife honesty,
Had read an homely.
Rom.
By thy hand.
Beau.
And sword,
I will make vp your oath, twill want weight else.
You are angry with me, and poore I laugh at it.
Do you come from the Campe, which affords onely
The conuersation of cast suburbe whores,
To set downe to a Lady of my ranke,
Lymits of entertainmment?
Rom.
Sure a Legion has possest this woman.
Beau.
One stamp more would do well: yet I desire not
You should grow horne-mad, till you haue a wife.
You are come to warme meate, and perhaps cleane linnen:
Feed, weare it, and bee thankfull. For me, know,
That though a thousand watches were set on mee,
And you the Master-spy, I yet would vse,
The liberty that best likes mee. I will reuell,
Feast, kisse, imbreace, perhaps grant larger fauours:
Yet such as liue vpon my meanes, shall know
They must not murmur at it. If my Lord
Bee now growne yellow, and has chose out you
To serue his Iealouzy that way, tell him this,
You haue something to informe him.
Exit Beau.
Rom.
And I will.
Beleeue it wicked one I will. Heare, Heauen,
But hearing pardon mee: if these fruts grow
Vpon the tree of marriage, let me shun it,
As a forbidden sweete. An heyre and rich,
Young, beautifull, yet adde to this a wife,
And I will rather choose a Spittle sinner
Carted an age before, though three parts rotten,
And take it for a blessing, rather then
Of such an impudence.
Enter Baumont with writings.
Bau.
Collonell, good fortune
To meet you thus: you looke sad, but Ile tell you
Something that shall remoue it. Oh how happy
Is my Lord Charaloys in his faire bride!
Rom.
A happy man indeede!—pray you in what?
Bau.
I dare sweare, you would thinke so good a Lady,
A dower sufficient.
Rom.
No doubt. But on.
Bau.
So faire, so chaste, so vertuous: so indeed
All that is excellent.
Rom.
Women haue no cunning to gull the world.
Bau.
Yet to all these, my Lord
Her father giues the full addition of
All he does now possesse in Burgundy:
These writings to confirme it, are new seal'd
And I most fortunate to present him with them,
I must goe seeke him out, can you direct mee?
Rom.
You'l finde him breaking a young horse.
Bau.
I thanke you.
Exit Baumont.
Rom.
I must do something worthy Charaloys friendship.
If she were well inclin'd to keepe her so,
Deseru'd not thankes: and yet to stay a woman
Spur'd headlong by hot lust, to her owne ruine,
Is harder then to prop a falling towre
With a deceiuing reed.
Enter Rochfort.
Roch.
Some one seeke for me,
As soone as he returnes.
Rom.
Her father! ha?
How if I breake this to him? sure it cannot
Meete with an ill construction. His wisedome
Made powerfull by the authority of a father,
Will warrant and giue priuiledge to his counsailes.
It shall be so—my Lord.
Roch.
Your friend Romont: would you ought with me?
I stand so ingag'd
To your so many fauours, that I hold it
A breach in thankfulnesse, should I not discouer,
Though with some imputation to my selfe,
All doubts that may concerne you.
Roch.
The performance
Will make this protestation worth my thanks.
Rom.
Then with your patience lend me your attention
For what I must deliuer, whispered onely
You will with too much griefe receiue.
Enter Beaumelle, Bellapert.
Beau.
See wench!
Vpon my life as I forespake, hee's now
Preferring his complaint: but be thou perfect,
And we will fit him.
Bell.
Feare not me, pox on him:
A Captaine turne Informer against kissing?
Would he were hang'd vp in his rusty Armour:
But if our fresh wits cannot turne the plots
Of such a mouldy murrion on it selfe;
Rich cloathes, choyse fare, and a true friend at a call,
With all the pleasures the night yeelds, forsake vs.
Roch.
This in my daughter? doe not wrong her.
Bell.
Now begin.
The games afoot, and wee in distance.
Beau.
Tis thy fault, foolish girle, pinne on my vaile,
I will not weare those iewels. Am I not
Already matcht beyond my hopes? yet still
You prune and set me forth, as if I were
Againe to please a suyter.
Bell.
Tis the course
That our great Ladies take.
Rom.
A weake excuse.
Beau.
Those that are better seene, in what concernes
A Ladies honour and faire fame, condemne it.
You waite well, in your absence, my Lords friend
The vnderstanding, graue and wise Romont.
Must I be still her sport?
Beau.
Reproue me for it.
And he has traueld to bring home a iudgement
Not to be contradicted. You will say
My father, that owes more to yeeres then he,
Has brought me vp to musique, language, Courtship,
And I must vse them. True, but not t'offend,
Or render me suspected.
Roch.
Does your fine story begin from this?
Beau.
I thought a parting kisse
From young Nouall, would haue displeasd no more
Then heretofore it hath done; but I finde
I must restrayne such fauours now; looke therefore
As you are carefull to continue mine,
That I no more be visited. Ile endure
The strictest course of life that iealousie
Can thinke secure enough, ere my behauiour
Shall call my fame in question.
Rom.
Ten dissemblers
Are in this subtile deuill. You beleeue this?
Roch.
So farre that if you trouble me againe
With a report like this, I shall not onely
Iudge you malicious in your disposition,
But study to repent what I haue done
To such a nature.
Rom.
Why, 'tis exceeding well.
Roch.
And for you, daughter, off with this, off with it:
I haue that confidence in your goodnesse, I,
That I will not consent to haue you liue
Like to a Recluse in a cloyster: goe
Call in the gallants, let them make you merry,
Vse all fit liberty.
Bell.
Blessing on you.
If this new preacher with the sword and feather
Could proue his doctrine for Canonicall,
We should haue a fine world.
Exit Bellapert.
Roch.
Sir, if you please
The house is at your seruice: but if not,
Though you seeke company else where, your absence
Will not be much lamented—
Exit Rochfort.
Rom.
If this be
The recompence of striuing to preserue
A wanton gigglet honest, very shortly
'T will make all mankinde Panders—Do you smile,
Good Lady Loosenes? your whole sex is like you,
And that man's mad that seekes to better any:
What new change haue you next?
Beau.
Oh, feare not you, sir,
Ile shift into a thousand, but I will
Conuert your heresie.
Rom.
What heresie? Speake.
Beau.
Of keeping a Lady that is married,
From entertayning seruants.—
Enter Nouall Iu. Malatine, Liladam, Aymer, Pontalier.
O, you are welcome.
Vse any meanes to vexe him,
And then with welcome follow me.
Exit Beau.
Nou.
You are tyr'd
With your graue exhortations, Collonell.
Lilad.
How is it? Fayth, your Lordship may doe well,
To helpe him to some Church-preferment: 'tis
Now the fashion, for men of all conditions,
How euer they haue liu'd, to end that way.
Aym.
That face would doe well in a surplesse.
Rom.
Rogues, be silent—or—
Pont.
S' death will you suffer this?
Rom.
And you, the master Rogue, the coward rascall,
I shall be with you suddenly.
Nou.
Pontallier,
If I should strike him, I know I shall kill him:
And therefore I would haue thee beate him, for
Hee's good for nothing else.
Lilad.
His backe
Appeares to me, as it would tire a Beadle,
A courtlike hand to touch it.
Aym.
Hee lookes like
A Curryer when his hides grown deare.
Pont.
Take heede he curry not some of you.
Nou.
Gods me, hee's angry.
Rom.
I breake no Iests, but I can breake my sword
About your pates.
Enter Charaloyes and Baumont.
Lila.
Heres more.
Aym.
Come let's bee gone,
VVee are beleaguerd.
Nou.
Looke they bring vp their troups.
Pont.
Will you sit downe with this disgrace?
You are abus'd most grosely.
Lila.
I grant you, Sir, we are, and you would haue vs
Stay and be more abus'd.
Nou.
My Lord, I am sorry,
Your house is so inhospitable, we must quit it.
Exeunt. Manent Char. Rom.
Cha.
Prethee Romont, what caus'd this vprore?
Rom.
Nothing.
They laugh'd and vs'd their scuruy wits vpon mee.
Char.
Come, tis thy Iealous nature: but I wonder
That you which are an honest man and worthy,
Should foster his suspition: no man laughes;
No one can whisper, but thou apprehend'st
His conference and his scorne reflects on thee:
For my part they should scoffe their thin wits out,
So I not heard 'em, beate me, not being there.
Leaue, leaue these fits, to conscious men, to such
As are obnoxious, to those foolish things
As they can gibe at.
Rom.
VVell, Sir.
Char.
Thou art know'n
Valiant without detect, right defin'd,
Which is (as fearing to doe iniury,
As tender to endure it) not a brabbler,
A sweater.
Pish, pish, what needs this my Lord?
If I bee knowne none such, how vainly, you
Do cast away good counsaile? I haue lou'd you,
And yet must freely speake: so young a tutor,
Fits not so old a Souldier as I am.
And I must tell you, t'was in your behalfe
I grew inrage thus, yet had rather dye,
Then open the great cause a syllable further.
Cha.
In my behalfe? wherein hath Charalois
Vnfitly so demean'd himselfe, to giue
The least occasion to the loosest tongue,
To throw aspersions on him, or so weakely
Protected his own: honor, as it should
Need a defence from any but himselfe?
They are fooles that iudge me by my outward seeming,
Why should my gentlenesse beget abuse?
The Lion is not angry that does sleepe,
Nor euery man a Coward that can weepe.
For Gods sake speake the cause.
Rom.
Not for the world.
Oh it will strike disease into your bones
Beyond the cure of physicke, drinke your blood,
Rob you of all your rest, contract your sight,
Leaue you no eyes but to see misery,
And of your owne, nor speach but to wish thus
Would I had perish'd in the prisons iawes:
From whence I was redeem'd twill weare you old,
Before you haue experience in that Art,
That causes your affliction.
Cha.
Thou dost strike
A deathfull coldnesse to my harts high heate,
And shrinkst my liuer like the Calenture.
Declare this foe of mine, and lifes, that like
A man I may encounter and subdue it,
It shall not haue one such effect in mee,
As thou denouncest: with a Souldiers arme;
If it be strength Ile meet it: if a fault
VVith mine owne reason, as a Scholler should
Speake, thought it make mee monstrous.
Rom.
Ile dye first.
Farewell, continue merry, and high Heauen
Keepe your wife chaste.
Char.
Hump, stay and take this wolfe
Out of my brest, that thou hast lodg'd there, or
For euer lose mee.
Rom.
Lose not, Sir, your selfe.
And I will venture—So the dore is fast.
Locke the dore.
Now noble Charaloys, collect your selfe,
Summon your spirits, muster all you strength
That can belong to man, sift passion,
From euery veine, and whatsoeuer ensues,
Vpbraid not me heereafter, as the cause of
Iealousy, discontent, slaughter and ruine:
Make me not parent to sinne: you will know
This secret that I burne with.
Char.
Diuell on't,
What should it be? Romont, I heare you wish
My wifes continuance of Chastity.
Rom.
There was no hurt in that.
Cha.
Why? do you know a likelyhood or possibility
Vnto the contrarie?
Rom.
I know it not, but doubt it, these the grounds
The seruant of your wife now young Nouall,
The sonne vnto your fathers Enemy
(Which aggrauates my presumption the more)
I haue bin warnd of, touching her, nay, seene them
Tye heart to heart, one in anothers armes,
Multiplying kisses, as if they meant
To pose Arithmeticke, or whose eyes would
Bee first burnt out, with gazing on the others.
I saw their mouthes engender, and their palmes
Glew'd, as if Loue had lockt them, their words flow
And melt each others, like two circling flames,
But left the world nor ashes, nor an heire.
Why stand you silent thus? what cold dull flegme,
As if you had no drop of choller mixt
In your whole constitution, thus preuailes,
To fix you now, thus stupid hearing this?
Cha.
You did not see 'em on my Couch within,
Like George a horse-bakce, on her, nor a bed?
Rom.
Noe.
Cha.
Ha, ha.
Rom.
Laugh yee? eene so did your wife,
And her indulgent father.
Cha.
They were wise.
Wouldst ha me be a foole?
Rom.
No, but a man.
Cha.
There is no dramme of manhood to suspect,
On such thin ayrie circumstances as this
Meere complement and courtship. Was this tale
The hydeous monster which you so conceal'd?
Away, thou curious impertinent
And idle searcher of such leane nice toyes.
Goe, thou sedicious sower of debate:
Fly to such matches, where the bridegroome doubts:
He holdes not worth enough to counteruaile
The vertue and the beauty of his wife.
Thou buzzing drone that 'bout my eares dost hum,
To strike thy rankling sting into my heart,
Whose venom, time, nor medicine could asswage.
Thus doe I put thee off, and confident
In mine owne innocency, and desert,
Dare not conceiue her so vnreasonable,
To put Nouall in ballance against me,
An vpstart cran'd vp to the height he has.
Hence busiebody, thou'rt no friend to me,
That must be kept to a wiues iniury,
Rom.
Ist possible? farewell, fine, honest man,
Sweet temper'd Lord adieu what Apoplexy
Beare witnes the great spirit of my father,
With what a healthfull hope I administer
This potion that hath wrought so virulently.
I not accuse thy wife of act, but would
Preuent her Præcipuce, to thy dishonour,
Which now thy tardy sluggishnesse will admit.
Would I had seene thee grau'd with thy great Sire,
Ere liue to haue mens marginall fingers point
At Charaloys, as a lamented story.
An Emperour put away his wife for touching
Another man, but thou wouldst haue thine tasted
And keepe her (I thinke.) Puffe. I am a fire
To warme a dead man, that waste out my selfe.
Bleed—what a plague, a vengeance i'st to mee,
If you will be a Cuckold? heere I shew
A swords point to thee, this side you may shun,
Or that: the perrill, if you will runne on,
I cannot helpe it.
Cha.
Didst thou neuer see me
Angry, Romont?
Rom.
Yes, and pursue a foe
Like lightening.
Char.
Prethee see me so no more.
I can be so againe, Put vp thy sword,
And take thy selfe away, lest I draw mine.
Rom.
Come fright your foes with this: sir, I am your friend,
And dare stand by you thus.
Char.
Thou art not my friend,
Or being so, thou art mad, I must not buy
Thy friendship at this rate; had I just cause,
Thous knowst I durst pursue such iniury
Through fire, ayre, water, earth, nay, were they all
Shuffled againe to Chaos, but ther's none.
Thy skill, Romont, consists in camps, not courts.
Farewell, vnciuill man, let's meet no more.
Heere our long web of friendship I vntwist.
For nothing, from her births free liberty,
That open'd mine to me? yes; if I doe
The name of cuckold then, dog me with scorne.
I am a Frenchman, no Italian borne.
Exit.
Rom.
A dull Dutch rather: fall and coole (my blood)
Boyle not in zeale of thy friends hurt, so high,
That is so low, and cold himselfe in't. Woman,
How strong art thou, how easily beguild?
How thou dost racke vs by the very hornes?
Now wealth I see change manners and the man:
Something I must do mine owne wrath to asswage,
And note my friendship to an after-age.
Exit.
| The Fatall Dovvry | |