 | Cupid's Revenge |  |
Actus Secundus.
Scæna Prima.
Cornets.Descend Cupid.
Cupid.
Leucippus thou art shot through with a shaft
That will not rankle long, yet sharp enough
To sow a world of helpless misery—
In this unhappy Kingdom, dost thou think
Because thou art a Prince, to make a part
Against my power, but it is all the fault
Of thy old Father, who believes this age
Is cold enough to quench my burning Darts,
But he shall know e'r long, that my smart loose,
Can thaw Ice, and inflame the wither'd heart
Of Nestor, thou thy self art lightly struck,
But his mad love, shall publish that the rage
Of Cupid, has the power to conquer Age.
Exit.
Enter Bacha, and Leucippus, Bacha, a Handkerchief.
Leu.
Why, what's the matter?
Bacha.
Have you got the spoil
You thirsted for? Oh tyrannie of men!
Leu.
I pray thee leave,
Bacha.
Your envy is, Heaven knows,
Beyond the reach of all our feeble sex:
What pain alas, could it have been to you,
If I had kept mine honor? you might still
Have been a Prince, and still this Countreys Heir,
That innocent Guard which I till now had kept,
For my defence, my virtue, did it seem
So dangerous in a State, that your self came to suppress it?
Leu.
Drie thine eyes again, I'll kiss thy tears away,
This is but folly, 'tis past all help.
Bacha.
Now you have won the treasure,
'Tis my request that you would leave me thus:
And never see these empty Walls again,
I know you will do so, and well you may:
For there is nothing in 'em that's worth
A glance, I loath my self, and am become
Another Woman; One methinks with whom
I want acquaintance.
Leu.
If I do offend thee, I can be gone,
And though I love thy sight, so highly do I prize thine own
content, that I will leave thee.
Bac.
Nay, you may stay now;
You should have gone before: I know not now
Why I should fear you: All I should have kept
Is stol'n: Nor is it in the power of man
To rob me farther: if you can invent,
Spare not; No naked man fears robbing less
Than I doe: now you may for ever stay
Leu.
Why, I could do thee farther wrong.
You have a deeper reach in evill than I:
'Tis past my thoughts.
Leu.
And past my will to act: but trust me I could do it.
Bac.
Good Sir do, that I may know there is a wrong
beyond what you have done me.
Leu.
I could tell all the world what thou hast done.
Bac.
Yes you may tell the world
And do you think I am so vain to hope
You will not? you can tell the world but this,
That I am a widow, full of tears in shew,
My Husband dead: And one that lov'd me so,
Hardly a week, forgot my modestie,
And caught with youth and greatness,
Gave my self to live in sin with you;
This you may tell: And this I do deserve.
Leu.
Why dost thou think me so base to tell!
These limbs of mine shall part
From one another on a wrack,
Ere I disclose; But thou dost utter words
That much afflict me: you did seem as ready
Sweet Bacha, as my self.
Bac.
You are right a man: when they have 'witcht us
into miserie, poor innocent souls,
But be it so; for Prince Leucippus sake
I will bear any thing.
Leucip.
Come weep no more,
I wrought thee to it, it was my fault:
Nay, see if thou wilt leave? Here, take this pearl,
Kiss me sweet Bacha, and receive this purse.
Bacha.
What should I do with these? they will not
deck my mind.
Leucip.
Why keep 'em to remember me.
I must be gone, I have been absent long:
I know the Duke my Father is in rage,
But I will see thee suddenly again.
Farewell my Bacha.
Bacha.
Gods keep you,
Do you here Sir: pray give me a point to wear.
Leu.
Alas good Bacha, take on, I pray thee where thou wilt.
Bac.
Coming from you. This Point is of as high
Esteem with me, as all pearl and gold: nothing but good
be ever with or near you.
Leu.
Fare thee well mine own good Bacha;
I will make all haste.
Exit.
Bacha.
Just as you are a Dosen I steem you:
No more, does he think I would prostitute
My self for love? it was the love of these pearls
And gold that won me, I confess
I lust more after him than any other,
And would at any rate if I had store,
Purchase his fellowship: but being poor,
I'll both enjoy his bodie and his purse,
And he a Prince, nere think my self the worse.
Enter Leontius, Leucippus, Ismenus, Timantus.
Leon.
Nay, you must back and shew us what it is,
That 'witches you out of your Honor thus.
Bacha.
Who's that?
Tima.
Look there Sir.
Leon,
Lady, never flye you are betray'd.
Bacha.
Leave me my tears a while,
And to my Just rage give a little place:
What saucy man are you, that without leave,
Enter upon a Widows mournfull house?
You hinder a dead man from many tears.
Who did deserve more than the world can shed,
Though they should weep themselves to Images.
If not for love of me, yet of your self
Away, for you can bring no comforts to me.
But you may carry hence, you know not what.
Nay sorrow is infectious.
Leon.
Thou thy self
Art grown infectious: wouldst thou know my name?
I am the Duke, father to this young-man
Whom thou corrupt'st?
Bacha.
Has he than told him all?
Leuc.
You do her wrong Sir.
Bacha.
O he has not told. Sir I beseech you pardon
My wild tongue, directed by a weak distemper'd head
Madded with grief: Alas I did not know
You were my Sovereign; but now you may
Command my poor unworthy life,
Which will be none I hope ere long.
Leon.
All thy dissembling will never hide thy shame:
And wer't not more respecting Woman-hood in
General, than any thing in thee, thou shouldst
Be made such an example, that posteritie,
When they would speak most bitterly, should say,
Thou art as impudent as Bacha was.
Bacha.
Sir, though you be my King, whom I will
Serve in all just causes: yet when wrongfully
You seek to take my Honor, I will rise
Thus, and defie you; for it is a Jewell
Dearer than you can give, which whilst I keep,
(Though in this lowly house) I shall esteem
My self above the Princes of the earth
That are without it. If the Prince your son,
Whom you accuse me with know how to speak
Dishonor of me, if he do not do it,
The plagues of hell light on him, may he never
Govern this Kingdome: here I chalenge him
Before the face of heaven, my Liege, and these,
To speak the worst he can: if he will lye,
To lose a womans fame, I'll say he is
Like you (I think I cannot call him worse.)
He's dead, that with his life would have defended
My reputation and I forct to play
(That which I am) the foolish woman,
And use my liberal tongue.
Leu.
Is't possible! we men are children in our
Carriages, compar'd with women: wake thy self
For shame, and leave not her whose honor thou
Shou'dst keep safe as thine own, alone to free her self:
But I am prest I know not how, with guilt,
And feel my conscience (never us'd to lye)
Loth to allow my tongue to add a lye
To that too much I did: but it is lawfull
To defend her, that only for my Love lov'd evill.
Leon.
Tell me, why did you Leucip: stay here so long?
Leu.
If I can urge ought from me but a truth, hell
Take me.
Leon.
What's the matter, why speak you not?
Tima.
Alas good Sir, forbear
To urge the Prince, you see his shamefastness.
Bacha.
What does he say Sir? if thou be a Prince
Shew it, and tell the truth.
Ismen.
If you have lain with her tell your Father
No doubt but he has done as ill before now:
The Gentlewoman will be proud on't.
Bacha.
For God's sake speak.
Leu.
Have you done prating yet?
Ismen.
Who prates?
Leu.
Thou know'st I'do not speak to thee Ismenus:
But what said you Tima; concerning my shamefastness?
Tima.
Nothing I hope that might displease your
Highness.
Leu.
If any of thy great, Great-grandmothers
This thousand years, had been as chast as she,
It would have made thee honester, I stay'd
To here what you wou'd say: she is by heaven
Of the most strict and blameless chastitie
That ever woman was: (good gods forgive me)
Had Tarquin, met with her, she had been kil'd
With a Slave by her ere she had agreed:
Our Mothers, whom we all must reverence,
Could nere exceed her for her chastitie,
Upon my soul: for by this light she's
A most obstinate modest creature.
Leon.
What did you with her then so long Leucippus?
Leu.
I'll tell you Sir: You see she's beautifull.
Leon.
I see it well.
Leu.
Mov'd by her face,
I came with lustful thoughts,
Which was a fault in me:
But telling truth, something more pardonable,
(And for the world I will not lye to you:)
Proud of my self, I thought a Princes name
Had power to blow 'em down flat of their backs;
But here I found a Rock not to be shook:
For as I hope for good Sir, all the battery
That I could lay to her, or of my person,
My greatness, or gold, could nothing move her.
Leon.
'Tis very strange, being so young and fair.
Leu.
She's almost thirty Sir.
Leon.
How do you know her age so just?
Leu.
She told it me her self
Once when she went about to shew by reason
I should leave wooing her.
Leon.
She stains the ripest Virgins of her age.
Leu.
If I had sin'd with her, I would be loth
To publish her disgrace: but by my life
I would have told it you, because I think
You would have pardon'd me the rather:
And I will tell you father: By this light Sir,
(But that I never will bestow my self
But to your liking) if she now would have me,
I now would marry her.
Leon.
How's that Leucippus!
Leu.
Sir, will you pardon me one fault, which yet
I have not done, but had a will to do, and I will tell it?
Leon.
Be't what it will I pardon thee.
Leu.
I offered marriage to her.
Leon.
Did she refuse it?
Leucip.
With that earnestnss, and almost scorn
To think of any other after her lost Mate, that she
Made me think my self unworthy of her.
Leon.
You have stay'd too long Leucippus
Leu.
Yes Sir, forgive me Heaven, what multitude
Of oaths have I bestow'd on lies, and yet they were
Officious lyes, there was no malice in 'em.
Leon.
She is the fairest creature that ever I beheld;
And then so chaste, 'tis wonderfull: the more I look
On her, the more I am amaz'd.
I have long thought of a wife, and one I would have
Had, but that I was afraid to meet a woman
That might abuse my age: but here she is
Whom I may trust to; of a chastitie
Impregnable, and approved so by my son:
The meaness of her birth will still preserve her
In due obedience; and her beauty is
Of force enough to pull me back to youth.
My son once sent away, whose rivall-ship
I have just cause to fear, if power, of gold,
Or wit, can win her to me, she is mine.
Nephew Ismenus, I have new intelligence,
Your Province is unquiet still.
Ismen.
I am glad on't.
Leon.
And so dangerously, that I must send the
Prince in person with you.
Ismen.
I am glad of that too: Sir, will you dispatch
Us we shall wither here for ever.
Leon.
You shall be dispatcht within this hour:
Leucippus, never wonder, nor ask, it must be thus.
Lady I ask your pardon, whose virtue I have
Slubberd with my tongue, and you shall ever be
Chast in my memory hereafter;
But we old men often doat: to make amends for
My great fault, receive that Ring:
I'm sorry for your grief, may it soon leave you:
Come my Lords lets begon.
Exeunt.
Bacha.
Heaven bless your Grace.
One that had but so much modestie left, as to blush,
Or shrink a little at his first encounter,
Had been undone; where I come off with honor,
And gain too: they that never wou'd be tract
In any course, by the most subtle sense
Must bear it through with frontless impudence.
Exit.
Enter Dorialus, Agenor, Nisus.
Dor.
Gentlemen this is a strange peece of Justice,
To put the wretched Dwarf to death because
She doated on him; Is she not a woman, and
Subject to those mad figaries her whole Sex
Is infected with? Had she lov'd you, or you, or I,
Or all on's (as indeed the more the merryer still
With them) must we therefore have our heads par'd
With a Hatchet? So she may love all the Nobility
Out o'th Dukedome in a month, and let the raskals in.
Nis.
You will not, or you do not see the need
That makes this just to the world?
Dor.
I cannot tell, I would be loth to feel it:
But the best is, she loves not proper men, we three
Were in wise cases else: but make me know this need.
Eis.
Why yes: He being taken away, this base incontinence
dyes presently, and she must see her shame and sorrow
for it.
Dor.
Pray God she do: but was the Sprat beheaded,
Or did they swing him about like a chickin, and so break
his neck?
Agen.
Yes, he was beheaded, and a solemn Justice made of it.
Dor.
That might have been deducted.
Agenor.
Why how would you have had him dyed?
Dori.
Faith I would have had him rosted like a warden
in a brown paper, and no more talk on't: or a feather
stuck in's head, like a Quail: or a hanged him in a
Dog-coller: what should he be beheaded? we shall have
it grow so base shortly, Gentlemen will be out of love
with it.
Nis.
I wonder from whence this of the Dwarf's first
sprung?
Dor.
From an old leacherous pair of breeches that
lay upon a wench to keep her warm: for certainly they
are no mans work: and I am sure a Monkey would get
one of the guard to this fellow, he was no bigger than a
small Portmanteu, and much about that making is'tad
legs.
Age.
But Gentlemen, what say you to the Prince?
Nis.
I, concerning his being sent I know not whither.
Dorialus.
Why then he will come home I know not
when: you shall pardon me, I'll talk no more of this
subject, but say, gods be with him where ere he is, and
send him well home again: For why, he is gone, or
when he will return, let them know that directed him:
Only this, there's mad Morisco's in the state; but what
they are, I'll tell you when I know. Come, let's go,
hear all, and say nothing.
Agen.
Content.
Exeunt.
Enter Timantus, and Telamon.
Tela.
Timantus, is the Duke ready yet?
Tima.
Almost.
Tela.
What ails him?
Tima.
Faith I know not, I think he has dreamt he's
but eighteen: has been worss since he sent you forth for
the frizling iron.
Tel.
That cannot be, he lay in Gloves all night, and
this morning I brought him a new Periwig, with a lock
Tim.
O but since, his Taylor came, and they have fallen
out about the fashion on's cloaths: and yonders a fellow
come, has board a hole in's ear; and he has bespoke
a Vaulting-horse, you shall see him come forth presently:
he looks like Winter, stuck here and there with
fresh flowers.
Tela.
Will he not Tilt think you?
Tima.
I think he will.
Tela.
What does he mean to doe?
Tim.
I know not: but by this light I think he is in love;
he wou'd ha' bin shav'd but for me.
Tela.
In love with whom?
Tim.
I could guess, but you shall pardon me: he will take
me along with him some-whither,
Tela.
I over-heard him ask your opinion of some bodies beauty.
Tima.
Yes, there it goes, that makes him so youthfull,
and h'as layd by his Crutch, and halts now with a leading
staff.
Enter Leontine with a staff and a looking glass.
Leon.
Timantus.
Tim.
Sir.
Leon.
This Feather is not large enough.
Tim.
Yes faith, 'tis such an one as the rest of the young
Gallants wear.
Leon.
Telamon, does it doe well?
Tela.
Sir, it becomes you, or you become it, the rareliest—
Leon.
A way, dost think so?
Tela.
Think Sir, I know it. Sir, the Princess, is past all
hope of life since the Dwarf was put to death.
Leon.
Let her be so, I have other matters in hand: but
this same Taylor angers me, he has made my doublet so
wide: and see, the knave has put no points at my arme.
Tima.
Those will be put to quickly Sir, upon any occasion.
Leon.
Telamon, have you bid this Dancer come a mornings?
Tela.
Yes Sir.
Leon.
Temantus, let me see the glass again: look
you how careless you are grown, is this tooth well put
in?
Tima.
Which Sir?
Leon.
This Sir.
Tima.
It shall be.
Telam.
Me thinks that tooth should put him in mind
on's years: and Timantus, stands as if (seeing the Duke,
in such a youthfull habit) he were looking in's mouth how
old he were.
Leon.
So, so.
Tela.
Will you have your Gown sir?
Leon.
My Gown? why, am I sick? bring me my Sword.
Exit Tela.
Leon.
Let a couple of the great horses be brought out for us
Tima.
He'll kill himself. Why, will you ride Sir:
Leon.
Ride? Dost thou think I cannot ride?
Timan.
O yes Sir, I know it: but as I conceive your
journey, you wou'd have it private; and then you were
better take a Coach.
Leon.
These Coaches make me sick: yet 'tis no matter,
let it be so.
Enter Telamon with a sword.
Tel.
Sir, here's your sword.
Leon.
O well sed: let me see it, I could me thinks
Why Telamon, bring me another: what, thinkst thou
I will wear a sword in vain?
Tela.
He has not strength enough to draw it,
A yoak of Fleas ty'd to a hair would have drawn it.
'Tis out sir now, the Scabbard is broke.
Leon.
O put it up again, and on with it; me thinks I
am not drest till I feel my sword on.
Leon.
Telamon, if any of my counsell aske for me,
Say I am gone to take the air.
Tima.
He has not been drest this twenty years then, If
this vain hold but a week, he will learn to play o'th base
violl and sing to't: He's poetical alreadie;
For I have spide a Sonnet on's making lye by's beds side,
I'll be so unmannerly to read it.
Exit.
Hidaspes (within)
Hi.
He's dead, he's dead, and I am following.
Enter Hidaspes, Cleophila, and Hero, Hidaspes in a Bed.
Cleo.
Ask Cupid mercie Madam.
Hida.
O my heart.
Cleo.
Help!
Hero.
Stir her:
Hida.
O, O!
Cleo.
She's going, wretched woman that we are:
Look to her, and I'll pray the while.
Hero.
Why Madam?
Shee kneels.
Cleo.
Cupid, pardon what is past,
And forgive our sins at last,
Then we will be coy no more,
But thy Deity Adore,
Troths at fifteen we will plight,
And will tread a Dance at night.
In the fields, or by the Fire,
With the youths that have desire.
(How does she yet?
Hero.
O ill:
Cleo.
Given Ear-rings we will wear,
Bracelets of our Lovers hair,
Which they on our Arms shall twist,
With their Names carv'd on our wrist:
All the money that we owe,
We in Tokens will bestow:
And learn to write, that when 'tis sent,
Onely our Loves know what it meant:
O then pardon what is past,
And forgive our Sins at last.
(What, Mend's she?
Hero.
Nothing, you do it not wantonly, you shou'd sing.
Cle.
Leave, leave, 'tis now too late.
Hero.
Why?
Cl.
Shee is dead:
Hero.
Her last is breathed.
Cleo.
What shall we doe.
Hero.
And tell the Duke; And whilst I'll close her eyes.
And put it in eternall night.
Where is she can boldly say
Though she be as fresh as May:
She shall not by this Corps be laid,
Ere to morrows light doe fade.
Let us all now living be,
Warn'd by thy strict Chastitie.;
And marry all fast as we can,
Till then we keep a piece of man,
Wrongfully from them that owe it
Soon may every Maid bestow it.
Exeunt.
Enter Bacha and a Maid.
Bac.
Who is it?
Maid.
Forsooth there's gallant Coach at the dore,
And the brave old man in't, that you said was the Duke.
Bacha.
Cupid, grant he may be taken.
Away.
Maid.
He is coming up, and looks the swaggeringst, and
has such glorious cloaths.
Bac.
Let all the house see me sad, and see all handsome.
Leon.
Nay widow flie not back, we come not now to
chide, stand up and bid me welcome.
Bac.
To a poor widows house that knows no end of
her ill fortune: your Highness is most welcome.
Leon.
Come kiss me then, this is but manners widow:
Nere fling your head aside, I have more cause of grief than
you: my Daughters dead: but what? 'Tis nothing. Is the
rough French horse brought to the dore?
Tim.
He will be Sir, and the gray Barbary, they are fiery both.
Leon.
They are the better: Before the gods I am lightsome,
very lightsome: How doest thou like me widow?
Bach.
As a person in whom all graces are.
Leon.
Come, come, ye flatter: I'll clap your cheek for
that, and you shall not be angry.
Hast no Musick: Now could I cut three times with ease,
and do a cross point, should shame all your gallants.
Bacha.
I do believe you, and your self too:
Lord what a fine old Zany my Love has made him?
'Is mine, I am sure: Heaven make me thankful for
him.
Leu.
Tell me how old thou art, my pretty sweet
heart?
Timantus.
Your Grace will not buy her, she may trip
Sir?
Bacha.
My sorrow showes me elder then I am by many
years?
Leon.
Thou art so witty I must kiss agen.
Tima.
Indeed her Age lyes not in her mouth: nere
look it there Sir, she has a better Register, if it be not
burnt.
Leon.
I will kiss thee, I am a fire Timantus.
Tima.
Can you chuse Sir, having such heavenly fire before
you?
Leon.
Widow, guess why I come, I prethee do,
Bacha.
I cannot Sir, unless you be pleas'd to make
a mirth out of my rudeness: and that I hope your pity will
not let ye, the subject is so Barren: Bite King, Bite, I'll
let you play a while.
Leon.
Now as I am an honest man, I'll tell thee truely,
how many foot did I Jump yesterday Timantus?
Tim.
Fourteen of your own, and some three fingers.
Bacha.
This fellow lyes as lightly, as if hee were in cut
Taffata.
Alas good Almanack get thee to Bed, and tell what
weather we shall have to morrow.
Leon.
Widow I am come in short to be a Suiter.
Bacha.
For whom?
Leon.
Why by my troth, I come to wooe thee wench:
And win thee for my self: Nay, look upon me:
I have about me that will do it.
Bac.
Now Heaven defend me, your Whore shall never:
I thank the Gods, I have a little left me to keep me
warm, and honest: if your grace take not that, I seek no
more.
Leon.
I am so far from taking any thing, I'll add unto
thee.
Bach.
Such Additions may be for your ease Sir,
Not my honestie: I am well in being single, good Sir seek
another, I am no meat for money.
Leon.
Shall I fight for thee?
This sword shall cut his throat, that dars lay claim
But to a Finger of thee, but to a look, I would
See such a fellow.
Bac.
It would be but a cold sight to you:
This is the father of S. George a foot-back,
Can such dry mumming talk.
Tim.
Before the gods, your grace lookes like Æneas.
Bac.
He looks like his old father upon his back,
Crying to get A boord.
Leon.
How shall I win thy love, I pray thee tell me?
I'll marry thee if thou desirest that: That is an honest
Course, I am in good earnest, and presently within this
hour, am mad for thee: prethee deny me not,
Bacha.
Now he's in the Toyl, I'll hold him fast.
Tima.
You do not know what 'tis to be a Queen,
Go too you Maid, else what the old man falls short
of, there's others can eech out, when you please to call
on 'em.
Bacha.
I understand you not, Love I adore thee,
Sir, on my knees I give you hearty thanks, for so much
Honoring your humble Hand-mayd above her bath:
Far more her weak deservings, I dare not trust the Envious
tongues of all that must repine at my unworthy
rising.
Born to such worth: O turn your self about
And make a Noble choice.
Leon.
If I do, let me famish: I will have thee,
Or break up house, and boord here.
Bac.
Sir, you may command an unwilling woman to obey
ye: but heaven knows—
Leon.
No more: these half a dozen kisses, and this Jewell,
and every thing I have, and away with me, and clap it
up; and have a boy by morning. Timantus let one be
sent post for my son again: and for Ismenus, they are scarce
twenty miles on their way yet, by that time we'll be married.
Tima.
There shall Sir.
Exeunt.
| Cupid's Revenge | |