 | The Humorous Lieutenant |  |
Actus Quartus.
Scæna prima.
Enter Antigonus, and Menippus.Ant.
No aptnesse in her?
Men.
Not an immodest motion,
And yet when she is as free, and when she is courted,
Makes as wild witty answers.
Ant.
This more fires me,
I must not have her thus.
Men.
We cannot alter her.
Ant.
Have ye put the youths upon her?
Men.
All that know any thing,
And have been studied how to catch a beauty,
But like so many whelps about an Elephant—
The Prince is coming home sir.
Ant.
I heare that too,
But that's no matter; am I alter'd well;
Men.
Not to be knowne I thinke sir.
Ant.
I must see her.
Ent. 2 Gent. or Lords.
1 Gent.
I offered all I had, all I could thinke of,
I tri'd her through all the points o'th' compasse, I thinke.
2 Gent.
She studies to undo the Court, to plant here
The enemy to our age, chastitie;
She is the first, that ere bauked a close Arbour,
And the sweet contents within: She hates curl'd heads too,
And setting up of beards she sweares, is Idolatrie.
1 Gent.
I never knew so faire a face so froze;
Yet she would make one thinke—
2 Gent.
True by her carriage,
For she's as wanton as a kid toth' out side,
As full of mocks and taunts: I kiss'd her hand too,
Walkt with her halfe an houre.
1 Gent.
She heard me sing,
And sung her selfe too; she sings admirably;
But still, when any hope was, as 'tis her trick
To minister enough of those, then presently
With some new slam or other, nothing to th'matter,
And such a frowne, as would sinke all before her,
She takes her chamber; come we shal not be the last fools.
2 Gent.
Not by a hundred I hope; 'tis a strange wench.
Ant.
This screwes me up still higher.
Enter Celia, and Ladies behind her
Men.
Here she comes sir.
Ant.
Then be you gone: and take the women with ye,
And lay those Jewels in her way.
Cel.
If I stay longer
I shall number as many lovers as Lais did;
How they flocke after me? upon my conscience,
I have had a dozen horses given me this morning,
I'le ev'n set up a troop, and turne she-souldier.
A good discreet wench now, that were not hidebound
Might raise a fine estate here, and suddenly:
For these warme things will give their soules—I can go no where
Without a world of offerings to my excellence:
I am a Queene, a Goddesse, I know not what—
And no constellation in all heaven, but I outshine it;
And they have found out now I have no eyes
Of mortall lights, but certaine influences,
Strange vertuous lightnings, humane nature starts at,
And I can kill my twenty in a morning,
With as much ease now—
Ha? what are these? new projects?
Where are my honourable Ladies? are you out too?
Nay then I must buy the stocke, send me good carding:
I hope the Princes hand, be not in this sport;
I have not seen him yet, cannot heare from him,
And that, that, troubles me: all these were recreations
Had I but his sweet companie to laugh with me:
What fellowes that? another apparition?
This is the lovingst age: I should know that face,
Sure I have seen't before, not long since neither.
Ant.
She sees me now: O heaven, a most rare creature!
Cel.
Yes, 'tis the same: I will take no notice of ye,
But if I do not fit ye, let me frie for't;
Is all this Cackling for your eg? they are faire ones,
Excellent rich no doubt to; and may stumble
A good staid mind, but I can go thus by 'em;
My honest friend; do you set off these Jewels;
Ant.
Set 'em off, Lady?
Cel.
I meane, sell 'em here sir?
Ant.
She's very quicke; for sale they are not meant sure.
Cel.
For sanctitie I thinke much lesse: good even Sir.
Ant.
Nay, noble Lady stay: 'tis you must weare 'em:
Never looke strange, they are worthy your best beauty.
Cel.
Did ye speake to me?
Ant.
To you or to none living:
To you they are sent; to you they are sacrificed.
Cel.
I'le never looke a horse i'th' mouth that's given:
I thanke ye sir: I'le send one to reward ye.
Ant.
Do you never aske who sent 'em?
Cel.
Never I:
Nor never care, if it be an honest end,
That end's the full reward, and thankes but slubbers it;
If it be ill, I will not urge the acquaintance.
Ant.
This has a soule indeed: pray let me tell ye.
Cel.
I care not if ye do, so you do it hansomly,
And not stand picking of your words,
Ant.
The King sent 'em.
Cel.
Away, away, thou art some foolish fellow,
And now I think thou hast stole 'em too; the king sent 'em?
Alas good man, wouldst thou make me beleeve
He has nothing to do with things of these worths,
But wantonly to fling 'em? he's an old man,
A good old man, they say too: I dare sweare
Full many a yeare ago, he left these gambols:
Here, take your trinkets.
Ant.
Sure I do not lye Lady.
Cel.
I know thou lyest extreamely, damnably.
Thou hast a lying face.
Ant.
I was never thus ratled.
Cel,
But say I should beleeve: why are these sent me?
And why art thou the Messenger? who art thou?
Ant.
Lady, looke on 'em wisely, and then consider
Who can send such as these, but a King only?
And, to what beautie can they be oblations,
But only yours? For me that am the carrier,
'Tis only fit you know I am his servant,
And have fulfil'd his will.
Cel.
You are short and pitthy;
What must my beauty do for these?
Ant.
Sweet Lady,
You cannot be so hard of understanding,
When a Kings favour shines upon ye gloriously,
And speakes his love in these,—
Cel.
O then love's the matter;
Sir-reverence love: now I begin to feele ye:
And I should be the Kings whore, a brave title.
And go as glorious as the Sun, ô brave still:
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Hurried from place to place to meet his pleasures.
Ant.
A devillish subtill wench, but a rare spirit.
Cel.
And when the good old spunge had suckt my youth dry,
And left some of his royall aches in my bones:
When time shall tell me I have plough'd my life up,
And cast long furrowes in my face to sinke me.
Ant.
You must not thinke so Lady.
Cel.
Then can these sir,
These precious things, the price of youth and beauty;
This shop here of sin-offerings set me off againe?
Can it restore me chaste, young innocent?
Purge me to what I was? adde to my memorie
An honest and a noble fame? The Kings device;
The sin's as universall as the Sun is,
And lights an everlasting torch to shame me.
Ant.
Doe you hold so sleight account of a great Kings favour,
That all knees bow to purchase?
Cel.
Prethee peace:
If thou knewst how ill-favouredly thy tale becomes thee,
And what ill root it takes—
Ant.
You will be wiser.
Cel.
Could the King find no shape to shift his pander into,
But reverend age? and one so like himself too?
Ant.
She has found me out.
Cel.
Cozen the world with gravitie?
Prethee resolve me one thing, do's the King love thee?
Ant.
I thinke he doe's.
Cel.
It seemes so by thy office:
He loves thy use, and when thats ended, hates thee:
Thou seemest to me a souldier.
Ant.
Yes I am one.
Cel.
And hast fought for thy Country?
Ant.
Many a time.
Cel.
May be, commanded too?
Ant.
I have done, Lady.
Cel.
O wretched man, below the state of pitie!
Canst thou forget, thou wert begot in honour?
A free companion for a King? a souldier?
Whose noblenesse dare feele no want, but enemies?
Canst thou forget this, and decline so wretchedly,
To eat the bread of bawdrie, of base bawdrie?
Feed on the scum of sin? fling thy sword from thee?
Dishonour to the noble name that nursed thee?
Goe, beg diseases: let them be thy Armors,
Thy fights, the flames of lust, and their foule issues.
Ant.
Why then I am a King, and mine owne speaker.
Cel.
And I as free as you, mine owne disposer;
There take your jewels; let them give them lustres
That have darke lives and soules; weare 'em your selfe sir,
You'l seeme a Devill else.
Ant.
I command ye stay.
Cel.
Be just, I am commanded.
Ant.
I will not wrong ye.
Cel.
Then thus low fals my duty.
Ant.
Can ye love me?
Say I, and all I have.
Cel.
I cannot love ye;
Without the breach of faith I cannot heare ye;
Ye hang upon my love, like frosts on Lillies:
I can dye, but I cannot love: you are answer'd.
Exit.
Ant.
I must find apter meanes, I love her truly.
Exit.
Scæn. 2.
Ent. Demetr. Leon. Lieut. Gent. Sold. & Host.Dem.
Hether doe you say she is come?
Host.
Yes sir, I am sure on't:
For whilst I waited on ye, putting my wife in trust,
I know not by what meanes, but the King found her,
And hether she was brought; how, or to what end.
Dem.
My father found her?
Host.
So my wife informes me.
Dem.
Leontius, pray draw off the souldiers,
I would a while be private.
Leon.
Fall off Gentlemen,
The Prince would be alone.
Ex. Leo. & Sol.
Dem.
Is he so cunning?
There is some tricke in this, and you must know it,
And be an agent too: which if it prove so—
Host.
Pull me to pieces sir?
Dem.
My father found her?
My father brought her hither? went she willingly?
Host.
My wife sayes full of doubts.
Dem.
I cannot blame her
No more: there's no trust, no faith in mankinde.
Enter Antigonus, Menippus, Leontius, & Soldiers.
Ant.
Keep her up close, he must not come to see her:
You are welcome nobly now, welcome home gentlemen;
You have done a courteous service on the Enemie;
Has tyed his faith for ever, you shall find it;
Ye are not now in's debt Son: still your sad looks:
Leontius, what's the matter?
Leo.
Truth sir, I know not,
We have been merry since we went.
Lieu.
I feele it.
Ant.
Come, what's the matter now? do you want money?
Sure he has heard o'th' wench.
Dem.
Is that a want sir?
I would faine speake to your Grace.
Ant.
You may doe freely.
Dem.
And not deserve your anger?
Ant.
That ye may too.
Dem.
There was a gentle woman, and somtimes my prisoner,
Which I thought well of sir: your Grace conceives me.
Ant.
I doe indeed, and with much grief conceive ye;
With full as much griefe as your mother bare me:
There was such a woman: would I might as well say,
There was no such Demetrius.
Dem.
She was vertuous,
And therefore not unfit my youth to love her:
She was as faire—
Ant.
Her beauty I'le proclaime too,
To be as rich as ever raigned in woman;
But how she made that good, the Devill knowes.
Dem.
She was—O heaven!
Ant.
The hell to all thy glories,
Swallowed thy youth, made ship wrack of thine honor:
She was a devill.
Dem.
Ye are my father sir.
Ant.
And since ye take a pride to shew your follies,
I'le muster 'em, and all the world shall view 'em.
Leo.
What heate is this? the Kings eyes speak his anger?
Ant.
Thou hast abus'd thy youth, drawn to thy fellowship
Instead of arts and armes, a womans kisses,
The subtilties, and soft heates of a harlot.
Dem.
Good sir, mistake her not.
Ant.
A Witch, a Sorcerer:
I tell thee but the truth; and heare Demetrius,
Which has so dealt upon thy bloud with charmes,
Devillish and darke; so lockt up all thy vertues;
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In heaven, that any tongue but his durst say this;
That any heart durst harbor it: Dread Father,
If for the innocent the gods allow us
To bend our knees—
Ant.
Away, thou art bewitched still;
Though she be dead, her power still lives upon thee.
Dem.
Dead? O sacred sir: dead did you say?
Ant.
She is dead foole.
Dem.
It is not possible: be not so angry,
Say she is falne under your sad displeasure,
Or any thing but dead, say she is banished,
Invent a crime, and doe beleeve it sir.
Ant.
Dead by the Law: we found her hell, and her,
I meane her charmes and spels, for which she perish'd;
And she confest she drew thee to thy ruine,
And purpos'd it, purpos'd my Empires overthrow.
Dem.
But is she dead? was there no pity sir?
If her youth err'd, was there no mercy shewne her?
Did ye looke on her face, when ye condemn'd her?
Ant.
I look'd into her heart, and there she was hideous.
Dem.
Can she be dead? can vertue fall untimely?
Ant.
She is dead, deservingly she died.
Dem.
I have done then.
O matchlesse sweetnes, whether art thou vanished?
O thou faire soule of all thy sex, what Paradise
Hast thou inrich'd and blest? I am your sonne sir,
And to all you shall command stand most obedient,
Only a little time I must intreat you
To study to forget her; 'twill not be long sir,
Nor I long after it: art thou dead Celia,
Dead my poor wench? my joy, pluckt green with violence:
O faire sweet floure, farwell: Come, thou destroyer,
Sorrow, thou melter of the soule, dwell with me;
Dwell with me solitarie thoughts, teares, cryings,
Nothing that loves the day, love me, or seeke me,
Nothing that loves his owne life haunt about me:
And Love, I charge thee, never charme mine eies more,
Nor ne're betray a beauty to my curses:
For I shall curse all now hate all, forsweare all,
And all the brood of fruitfull nature vex at,
For she is gon that was all, and I nothing—
Ex. & Gen.
Ant.
This opinion must be maintained.
Men.
It shall be sir.
Ant.
Let him goe: I can at mine owne pleasure
Draw him to'th' right againe: wait you instructions,
And see the souldier paid, Leontius:
Once more ye are welcome home all.
All.
Health to your Majestie.—
Exit Antig. &c.
Leo.
Thou wentst along the journy, how canst thou tell?
Host.
I did, but I am sure 'tis so: had I staid behind,
I thinke this had not proved.
Leo.
A wench the reason?
Lev.
Who's that talks of a wench there?
Leo.
All this discontent
About a wench.
Lieu.
Where is this wench, good Colonell?
Leo.
Prethee hold thy peace: who cals thee to counsell?
Lieu.
Why, if there be a wench—
Leo.
'Tis fit thou know her:
Enter 2 Gen.
That I'le say for thee, and as fit thou art for her,
Let her be mewed or stopt: how is it Gentlemen?
1. G.
Hee's wondrous discontent, hee'l speak to no man.
2. G.
Has taken his chamber close, admits no entrance;
Teares in his eyes, and crying out.
Host.
'Tis so sir,
And now I wish my selfe half hang'd ere I went this journey.
Leo.
What is this woman?
Lieu.
I.
Host.
I cannot tell ye,
But hansome as heaven.
Lieu.
She is not so high I hope sir.
Leo.
Where is she?
Lieu.
I, that would be knowne.
Leo.
Why sirrah.
Host.
I cannot show ye neither;
The King has now dispos'd of her.
Leo.
There lyes the matter:
Will he admit none to come to comfort him?
1. Gen.
Not any neare, nor let 'em knock their hearts out,
Will never speake.
Lieu.
'Tis the best way if he have her;
For look you, a man would be loath to be disturb'd in's pastime;
'Tis every good mans case.
Leo.
'Tis all thy living,
We must not suffer this, we dare not suffer it:
For when these tender soules meet deep afflictions,
They are not strong enough to struggle with 'em,
But drop away as snow does, from a mountaine,
And in the torrent of their owne sighs sinke themselves:
I will, and must speake to him.
Lieu.
So must I too:
He promised me a charge.
Leo.
Of what? of children
Upon my conscience, thou hast a double companie,
And all of thine owne begetting alreadie.
Lieu.
Thats all one,
I'le raise 'em to a Regiment, and there command 'em,
When they turne disobedient, unbeget 'em:
Knock 'em o'th' head, and put in new.
Leo.
A rare way;
But for all this, thou art not valiant enough
To dare to see the Prince now?
Lieu.
Do ye thinke he's angry?
1 Gent.
Extreamely vext.
2 Gen.
To the endangering of any man comes neare him.
1 Gent.
Yet, if thou couldst but win him out,
VVhat ere thy suite were.
Beleeve it granted presently.
Leo.
Yet thou must thinke though,
That in the doing he may breake upon ye,
And—
Lieu.
If he do not kill me.
Leo.
There's the question.
Lieu.
For halfe a dozen hurts?
Leo.
Art thou so valiant?
Lieu.
Not absolutely so neither: no it cannot be,
I want my impostumes, and my things about me,
Yet I'le make danger, Collonel.
Leo.
'Twill be rare sport,
How ere it take; give me thy hand; if thou dost this,
I'le raise thee up a horse troope, take my word for't.
Lieu.
What may be done by humane man?
Leo.
Lets goe then.
1. Gen.
Away before the coole: he wil revenge els.
Ex.
Scæne 3.
Enter Antigonus, Menippus, and Leucippe.Ant.
Will she not yeeld?
Leu.
For all we can urge to her;
I swore I would marry her, she laugh'd extremely,
And then she rail'd like thunder.
139
Call in the Magitian.
Enter Mag. with a bowle.
I must, and will obtaine her, I am ashes else.
Mag.
Are all the Philters in? charmes, powders, roots?
They are all in: and now I onely stay
The invocation of some helping spirits.
Ant.
To your worke then, and dispatch.
Mag.
Sit still, and feare not.
Leu.
I shall ne're indure these sights.
Ant.
Away with the woman: goe wait without.
Leu.
When the Devils gone pray call me.
Exit.
Ant.
Be sure you make it powerfull enough.
Mag.
Pray doubt not.—
He Conjures.
A Song.
Rise from the shades below,
All you that prove
The helpes of loose Love;
Rise and bestow
Upon this Cup, what ever may compell
By powerfull Charme, and un-resisted Spell.
A heart un-warm'd to melt in Loves desires,
Distill into this Liquor all your fires;
Heats, longings, teares,
But keepe back frozen feares,
That she may know, that has all power defied,
Art is a power that will not be denied.
The Answer.
I obey , I obey,
And am come to view e're day
Brought along, all may compell,
All the earth has, and one hell:
Here's a little little Flower,
This will make her sweat an houre,
Then unto such flames arise,
A thousand joyes will not suffice.
Here's the powder of the Moone
With which she caught Endymion,
The powerfull teares that Venus cryed,
When the Boy Adonis dyed.
Here's Medeas Charme, with which
Jasons heart she did bewitch,
Omphale this Spell put in
When she made the Libian spin.
This dull root pluckt from Lethe flood,
Purges all pure thoughts, and good.
These I stir thus, round, round, round,
Whilst our light feet beat the ground.
Mag.
Now sir 'tis full, and whosoever drinkes this
Shall violently doat upon your person,
And never sleepe nor eate unsatisfied:
So many houres 'twill worke, and worke with violence,
And those expired 'tis done. You have my art sir.
Enter Leucippe.
Ant.
See him rewarded liberally—Leucippe.
Here, take this bowle, and when she calls for wine next—
Leu.
Be sure you give her this, and see her drinke it;
Delay no time when she calls next.
Leu.
I shall sir.
Ant.
Let none else touch it on your life.
Leu.
I am charged sir.
Ant.
Now if she have an antidote art let her scape me.
Exeunt.
Enter Leontius, Lieutenant, Gent.
1 Gent.
There's the door Lieutenant, if you dare do any thing.
Leo.
Here's no man waites.
1 Gent.
H'as given a charge that none shall,
Nor none shall come within the hearing of him:
Dare ye goe forward?
Lieut.
Let me put on my skull first.
My head's almost beaten into th'pap of an Apple.
Leo.
Are there no Guns i'th' doore?
The rogue will doe it,
And yet I know he has no stomack to't.
Lieut.
What loope-holes are there when I knock for stones,
For those may pepper me? I can perceeive none.
Leo.
How he viewes the Fortification.
Lieut.
Farewell Gentlemen,
If I be kill'd—
Leo.
Wee'le see thee buried bravely.
Lieut.
Away: how should I know that then? Ile knock softly.
Pray heaven he speak in a low voice now to comfort me:
I feele I have no heart to't:—Is't well, Gentlemen.
Colonel, my Troope—
Leo.
A little louder.
Lieut.
Stay, stay;
Here is a window, I will see, stand wide.
Leo.
By—he's charging of a Gun:
There's no such matter.
Lieut.
There's no body in this roome.
O'twas a fire-shovell:
Now ile knock lowder: if he say who's there,
As sure he has so much manners, then will I answer him
So finely & demurely: my Troop Colonel—
(knock louder,
1 Gent.
Knock louder foole, he heares not.
Lieut.
You foole, doe you.
Doe and ye dare now.
1 Gent.
I doe not undertake it.
Lieut.
Then hold your peace, & medle with your own matters.
Leo.
Now he will knock.
Knocks louder.
Lieut.
Sir, sir: wil't please you heare sir?
Your Grace: Ile looke againe: what's that?
Leo.
He's there now:
Lord! How he stares! I ne're yet saw him thus alter'd:
Stand now, and take the Troope.
Lieut.
Would I were in't,
And a good horse under me: I must knock againe.
The devil's at my fingers ends: he comes now.
Now Colonel, if I live—
Leo.
The Troop's thine own Boy.
Enter Dem. a pistol.
Dem.
What desperate foole, ambitious of his ruine?
Lieut.
Your father would desire ye, sir, to come to dinner.
Dem.
Thou art no more,
Lieut.
Now, now, now, now.
Dem.
Poore coxcomb,
Why doe I aime at thee?
Exit.
Leo.
His feare has kill'd him.
En. Leuc. with a bowl.
2 Gent.
I protest hee's almost stiffe: bend him, and rub him:
Hold his nose close, you, if you be a woman,
Helpe us a little: here's a man neere perish't.
Leu.
Alas, alas, I have nothing here about me.
Looke to my bowle: Ile run in presently
And fetch some waters: bend him, and set him upwards.
Leo.
A goodly man—
Exit.
Here's brave heart: he's warme againe: you shall not
2 Gent.
Leave us i'th'lurch so, sirrah.
Now he breathes too.
Leo.
If we had but any drinke to rayse his spirits.
What's that i'th' bowle? upon my life good Liquor,
She would not owne it else.
140
He sees.
Leo.
Looke up boy,
And take this cup, and drinke it off, I'le pledge thee,
Guide it to his mouth: he swallowes heartily.
2. Gen.
Oh! feare and sorrowes dry; 'tis off—
Leo.
Stand up man.
Lieu.
Am I not shot?
Leo.
Away with him, and cheere him:
Thou hast won thy Troop.
Lieu.
I thinke I won it bravely.
Leo.
Goe, I must see the Prince, he must not live thus;
And let me heare an houre hence from ye.
Well sir—
Ex. Gen. and Lieu.
Enter Leucippe with water.
Leu.
Here, here: where's the sicke Gentleman?
Leo.
Hee's up and gone, Lady.
Leu.
Alas: that I came so late.
Leo.
He must still thanke ye,
Ye left that in a cup here did him comfort.
Leu.
That in the bowle?
Leo.
Yes truly, very much comfort,
He dranke it off, and after it spoke lustily.
Leu.
Did he drinke it all?
Leo.
All off.
Leu.
The devill choke him,
I am undone: 'has twenty devils in him,
Undone for ever: left he none?
Leo.
I thinke not.
Leu.
No not a drop: what shall become of me now?
Had he no where else to swound? a veng'ance swound him:
Undone, undone, undone: stay, I can lye yet,
And sweare too at a pinch, thats all my comfort,
Ent. De.
Look to him; I say look to him, & but mark what folows.
Ex
Leo.
What a devill ayles the woman? here comes the Prince again,
With such a sadnes on his face, as sorrow,
Sorrow her self, but poorely imitates.
Sorrow of sorrowes on that heart that caus'd it.
De.
Why might she not be false & treacherous to me?
And found so by my father? she was a woman,
And many a one of that sexe, young and faire,
As full of faith as she have fallen, and fouly.
Leo.
It is a wench: O that I knew the circumstance.
Dem.
Why might not, to preserve me from this ruine,
She having lost her honor, and abused me,
My father change the formes o'th' coines, and execute
His anger on a fault she ne're committed,
Only to keep me safe? why should I thinke so?
She never was to me but all obedience,
Sweetnes, and love.
Leo.
How heartily he weeps now?
I have not wept these thirty yeares and upward;
But now, if I should be hang'd I cannot hold from't;
It grieves me to the heart.
Dem.
Who's that that mocks me?
Leo.
A plague of him that mocks ye: I grieve truly,
Truly and heartily to see you thus sir:
And if it lay in my power, Gods are my witnesse,
Who ere he be, that tooke your sweet peace from ye;
I am not so old yet, nor want I spirit—
Dem.
No more of that no more Leontius,
Revenges are the gods: our part is sufferance:
Farewell, I shall not see thee long.
Leo.
Good sir, tell me the cause, I know there is a woman in't;
Doe you hold me faithfull? dare ye trust your souldier?
Sweet Prince, the cause?
Dem.
I must not, dare not tell it,
And as thou art an honest man, enquire not.
Leo.
Will ye be merry then?
Dem.
I am wondrous merry.
Leo.
'Tis wondrous well: you think now this becomes ye.
Shame on't, it does not sir, it shewes not hansomely;
If I were thus, you would sweare I were an asse straight;
A wooden asse; whine for a wench?
Dem.
Prethee leave me.
Leo.
I will not leave ye for a fit.
Dem.
Leontius?
Leo.
For that you may have any where for sixepence,
And a deare penny worth too.
Dem.
Nay, then you are troublesome.
Leo.
Not halfe so troublesome as you are to your self sir;
Was that brave heart made to pant for a placket:
And now i'th' dog-daies too, when nothing dare love?
That noble mind to melt away, and moulder
For a hay-nonny-nonny? would I had a glasse here,
To shew ye what a pretty toy ye are turn'd to.
Dem.
My wretched fortune.
Leo.
Will ye but let me know her?
I'le once turne bawd: go too, they are good mens offices,
And not so contemptible as we take 'em for:
And if she be above ground, and a woman,
I aske no more; I'le bring her o' my backe sir,
By this hand I will: and I had as lieve bring the devill,
I care not who she be, nor where I have her,
And in your armes, or the next bed deliver her,
Which you thinke fittest: and when you have danc'd your galliard.
Dem.
Away, and foole to them are so affected:
O thou art gone, and all my comfort with thee;
Wilt thou do one thing for me?
Leo.
All things i'th' world sir,
Of all dangers.
Dem.
Sweare.
Leo.
I will.
Dem.
Come neere me no more then.
Leo.
How?
Dem.
Come no more neere me:
Thou art a plague-sore to me.
Exit.
Leo.
Give you good ev'n sir;
If you be suffer'd thus, we shall have fine sport.
I will be sorry yet.
Ent. 2 Gent.
1 Gent.
How now, how does he?
Leo.
Nay, if I tell ye hang me, or any man else
That hath his nineteen wits; he has the bots I thinke,
He groanes, and roares, and kicks.
2 Gent.
Will he speake yet?
Leo.
Not willingly:
Shortly he will not see a man; if ever
I look'd upon a Prince so metamorphis'd,
So juggled into I know not what, shame take me;
This 'tis to be in love.
1 Gent.
Is that the cause on't?
Leo.
What is it not the cause of but beare baitings?
And yet it stinkes much like it: out upon't,
What Giants, and what dwarffs, what owles and apes,
What dogs, and cats it makes us? men that are possest with it,
Live as if they had a legion of devils in 'em,
And every devill of a severall nature,
Nothing but Hey passe, re-passe: where's the Lieutenant?
Has he gathered up the end on's wits againe?
1 Gent.
He is alive: but you that talke of wonders,
Shew me but such a wonder as he is now.
Leo.
Why? he was ever at the worst a wonder.
2 Gent.
He is now most wonderfull; a blazer now sir:
141
What ailes the fooles? and what star raignes now gentlemen
We have such prodigies?
2 Gen.
'T will poaze your heaven-hunters;
He talks now of the King no other language,
And with the King, as he imagines hourely,
Courts the King, drinks to the King, dies for the King,
Buyes all the pictures of the King, wears the Kings colors,
Leo.
Does he not lye i'th' Kings street too?
1. Gen.
Hee's going thither,
Makes praiers for the King in sundry languages,
Turnes all his Proclamations into meeter,
Is really in love with the King, most doatingly,
And sweares Adonis was a devill to him:
A sweet King, a most comely King, and such a King—
2. Gen.
Then down on's mary-bones: O excellent King:
Thus he begins, Thou light and life of creatures,
Angell-ey'd King, vouchsafe at length thy favour;
And so proceeds to incision: what think ye of this sorrow?
1. Gen.
Will as familiarly kisse the Kings horses
As they passe by him: ready to ravish his footmen.
Leo.
Why this is above Ela?
But how comes this?
1. Gen.
Nay thats to understand yet,
But thus it is, and this part but the poorest,
'Twould make a man leap over the Moone to see him act these.
2. Gen.
With sighes as though his heart would breake:
Cry like a breech'd boy, not eat a bit.
Leo.
I must goe see him presently,
For this is such a gig: for certaine Gentlemen
The Fiend rides on a Fiddlesticke.
2. Gen.
I thinke so.
Leo.
Can ye guide me to him? for half an houre I am his,
To see the miracle.
1. Gen.
We sure shall start him.
Exeunt.
Scæne 5.
Enter Antigonus and Leucippe.Ant.
Are you sure she dranke it?
Leu.
Now must I lye most confidently.
Yes sir, she has drunke it off.
Ant.
How works it with her?
Leu.
I see no alteration yet.
Ant.
There will be,
For he is the greatest Artist living made it;
Where is she now?
Leu.
She is ready to walke out sir.
Ant.
Starke mad, I know she will be.
Leu.
So I hope sir.
Ant.
She knowes not of the Prince?
Leu.
Of no man living—
Ant.
How do I looke? how do my clothes become me?
I am not very gray.
Leu.
A very youth sir,
Upon my maiden-head as smug as April:
Heaven blesse that sweet face, 'twill undoe a thousand,
Many a soft heart must sob yet, ere that wither,
Your Grace can give content enough.
Ant.
I thinke so.
Enter Celia with a book
Leu.
Here she comes sir.
Ant.
How shall I keep her off me?
Go & perfume the room: make all things ready.
Ex. Len.
Cel.
No hope yet of the Prince? no comfort of him?
They keep me mew'd up here, as they mew mad folkes,
No companie but my afflictions.
This royall devill againe? strange, how he haunts me?
How like a poison'd potion his eyes fright me?
Has made himselfe hansome too.
Ant.
Doe you looke now, Lady?
You will leap anon.
Cel.
Curl'd and perfum'd? I smell him:
He looks on's leggs too: sure he will cut a caper,
God-a-mercie deare December.
Ant.
O doe you smile now:
I knew it would worke with you: come hither pretty one.
Cel.
Sir.
Ant.
I like those curtesies well come hither & kisse me.
Cel.
I am reading sir of a short Treatise here,
Thats call'd the vanitie of lust: has your Grace seene it?
He sayes here, that an old mans loose desire
Is like the glow-wormes light, the Apes so wonder'd at:
Which when they gather'd sticks, and laid upon't,
And blew, and blew, turn'd taile, and went out presently:
And in another place, he cals their loves,
Faint smels of dying flowers, carry no comforts;
They'r doating stinking foggs, so thick and muddy,
Reason with all his beames cannot beat through 'em.
Ant.
How's this? is this the potion? you but foole still,
I know you love me.
Cel.
As ye are just and honest,
I know I love and honour ye: admire ye.
Ant.
This makes against me, fearfully against me.
Cel.
But as you bring your power to persecute me,
Your traps to catch mine innoncence, to rob me,
As you lay out your lusts to overwhelme me,
Hell never hated good, as I hate you sir;
And I dare tell it to your face: What glory
Now after all your Conquests got, your Titles,
The ever-living memories rais'd to you.
Can my defeat be? my poore wracke, what triumph?
And when you crowne your swelling cups to fortune,
What honourable tongue can sing my story?
Be as your Embleme is, a glorious Lamp
Set on the top of all, to light all perfectly:
Be as your office is, a god like Justice,
Into all shedding equally your vertues.
Ant.
She has drencht me now: now I admire hir goodnes;
So young, so nobly strong, I never tasted:
Can nothing in the powers of Kings perswade ye?
Cel.
No, nor that power command me.
Ant.
Say I should force ye?
I have it in my will.
Cel.
Your will's a poore one;
And though it be a Kings will, a despised one,
Weaker then Infants leggs, your will's in swadling clouts:
A thousand waies my will has found to checke ye;
A thousand doores to leape ye I dare die sir
As suddenly I dare die, as you can offer:
Nay say you had your will, say you had ravish'd me,
Perform'd your lust, what had you purchas'd by it?
What honor won, doe you know who dwels above sir,
And what they have prepared for men turr'd devils?
Did you never heare their thunder? start and tremble,
Death sitting on your bloud, when their fires visit us?
Will nothing wring you then do you thinke? sit hard here?
And like a snaile curle round about your conscience
Biting and stinging: will you not roare too late then?
Then when you shake in horror of this villanie,
Then will I rise a star in heaven, and scorne ye.
Ant.
Lust, how I hate thee now? and love this sweetnesse?
Will ye be my Queene? can that price purchase ye?
Cel.
Not all the world, I am a Queene alreadie,
Crown'd by his love, I must not lose for fortune;
142
Can lend no love, am not mine owne Exchequer;
For in anothers heart my hope and peace lyes.
Ant.
Your faire hands, Lady: for yet I am not pure enough
To touch these lips, in that sweet peace ye spoke of:
Live now for ever, and I to serve your vertues—
Cel.
Why now ye show a god? now I kneele to ye;
This sacrifice of Virgins joy send to ye:
Thus I hold up my hands to heaven that touch'd ye,
And pray eternall blessings dwell about ye.
Ant.
Vertue commands the stars: rise more then vertue;
Your present comfort shall be now my busines.
Cel.
All my obedient service wait upon ye.
Ex. severally.
Scæne 6.
Enter Leontius, Gentlemen, Lieutenant.Leo.
Hast thou cleane forgot the wars?
Lieu.
Prethee hold thy peace.
1. Gen.
His mind's much elevated now.
Leo.
It serves so
Sirrah.
Lieu.
I am so troubled with this fellow.
Leo.
He will call me rogue anon.
1. Gen.
Tis ten to one else.
Lie.
O King that thou knew'st I loved thee, how I lov'd thee:
And where O King I barrell up thy beauty.
Leo.
He cannot leave his Sutlers trade, he wooes in't.
Lieu.
O never King.
Leo.
By this hand, when I consider—
Lieu.
My honest friend, you are a little sawcy.
1. Gen.
I told you you would have it.
Lieu.
When mine owne worth—
Leo.
Is flung into the ballance, and found nothing.
Lieu.
And yet a souldier.
Leo.
And yet a sawcy one.
Lieu.
One that has followed thee.
Leo.
Faire and far off.
Lieu.
Fought for thy grace.
Leo.
'Twas for some griefe, you lye Sir.
Lieu.
Hee's the son of a whore denies this: will that satisfie ye?
Leo.
Yes, very well.
Lieu.
Shall then that thing that honors thee?
How miserable a thing soever, yet a thing still;
And though a thing of nothing, thy thing ever.
Leo.
Heere's a new thing.
2. Gen.
Hee's in a deep dump now.
Le.
I'le fetch him out on't. When's the Kings birth-day
Lieu.
When ere it be, that day I'le dye with ringing,
And there's the resolution of a Lover.
Exit.
Leo.
A goodly resolution sure I take it,
He is bewitch'd, or moop'd, or his braines melted,
Could he find no body to fall in love with; but the King,
The good old King, to doat upon him too?
Stay, now I remember what the fat woman warn'd me,
Bad me remember and look to him too:
Ile hang if she have not a hand in this: hee's conjured,
Goe after him, I pitty the poore rascall,
In the meane time Ile wait occasion
To worke upon the Prince.
2. Gen.
Pray doe that seriously.
Ex. severally.
Scæne 7.
Enter Antigonus, Menippus, Lords.Lor.
Hee's very ill.
Ant.
I am very sorry for't,
And much ashamed I have wronged his innocence,
Menippus, guide her to the Princes lodgings,
There leave her to his love againe.
Men.
I am glad sir.
Lord.
He will speake to none.
Ant.
O I shall breake that silence;
Be quicke take faire attendance.
Men.
Yes sir presently.
Ex.
Ant.
He will find his tongue, I warrant ye; his health too;
I send a phisick will not faile.
Lord.
Faire worke it.
Ant.
We heare the Princes meane to visit us
In way of truce.
Lord.
Tis thought so.
Ant.
Come: lets in then,
And think upon the noblest wayes to meet 'em.
Ex.
Scæne 8.
Enter Leontius.Leo.
There's no way now to get in: all the lights stopt too;
Nor can I heare a sound of him: pray heaven
He use no violence: I thinke he has more soule
Stronger, and I hope nobler: would I could but see once
This beauty he groanes under, or come to know
But any circumstance. What noise is that there?
I thinke I heard him groane: here are some comming;
A woman too, Ile stand aloof, and view 'em.
Enter Menippus, Celia, Lords.
Cel.
Well, some of ye have been too blame in this point,
But I forgive ye: The King might have pickt out too
Some fitter woman to have tride his valour.
Men.
Twas all to the best meant, Lady.
Cel.
I must thinke so,
For how to mend it now: hee's here you tell me?
Men.
Hee's Madam, and the joy to see you only
Will draw him out.
Leo.
I know that womans tongue,
I thinke I have seene her face too: Ile goe nearer:
If this be she, he has some cause of sorrow:
'Tis the same face; the same, most excellent woman.
Cel.
This should be Lord Leontius: I remember him.
Leo.
Lady, I thinke ye know me.
Cel.
Speake soft, good souldier:
I do, and know ye worthy, know ye noble:
Know not me yet openly, as you love me;
But let me see ye againe, Ile satisfie ye:
I am wondrous glad to see those eyes.
Leo.
You have charged me.
Cel.
You shall know where I am.
Leo.
I will not off yet:
She goes to knocke at's doore: This must be she
The fellow told me of: right glad I am on't,
He will bolt now for certaine.
Cel.
Are ye within sir?
Ile trouble you no more: I thanke your curtesie,
Pray leave me now.
All., Me.
We rest your humble servants.
Ex. Men. &c.
Cel.
So now my gyves are off: pray heaven he be here!
Master, my royall sir: doe you heare who cals ye?
Love my Demetrius.
Leo.
These are pretty quaile-pipes,
The Corke will come anon.
Cel.
Can ye be drowsie,
When I call at your window?
Leo.
I heare him stirring:
Enter Demetrius.
Now he comes wondring out.
Dem.
Tis Celias sound sure:
143
There stands the shape too.
Leu.
How he stares upon her?
Dem.
Ha? do mine eyes abuse me?
'Tis she, the living Celia: your hand Lady?
Cel.
What should this meane?
Dem.
The very selfesame Celia.
Cel.
How do ye sir?
Dem.
Only turn'd brave.
I heard you were dead my deare on: compleat,
She is wondrous brave, a wondrous gallant Courtier.
Cel.
How he surveies me round? here has been foule play.
Dem.
How came she thus?
Cel.
It was a kind of death sir,
I suffered in your absence, meu'd up here,
And kept conceal'd I know not how.
Dem.
'Tis likely:
How came you hether Celia? wondrous gallant:
Did my father send for ye?
Cel.
So they told me Sir,
And one command too.
Dem.
I hope you were obedient?
Cel.
I was so ever.
Dem.
And ye were bravely us'd?
Cel.
I wanted nothing:
My maiden-head to a mote i'th' Sun, he's jealous:
I must now play the knave with him, to dye for't,
'Tis in me nature.
Dem.
Her very eyes are alter'd:
Jewels, and rich ones too, I never saw yet—
And what were those came for ye?
Cel.
Monstrous jealous:
Have I liv'd at the rate of these scorn'd questions?
They seemed of good sort Gentlemen.
Dem.
Kind men?
Cel.
They were wondrous kind:
I was much beholding to 'em;
There was one Menippus sir.
Dem.
Ha?
Cel.
One Menippus,
A notable merry Lord, and a good companion.
Dem.
And one Charinthus too?
Cel.
Yes, there was such a one.
Dem.
And Timon?
Cel.
'Tis most true.
Dem.
And thou most treacherous:
My fathers bawdes by—they never misse course;
And were these daily with ye?
Cel.
Every houre sir.
Dem.
And was there not a Lady, a fat Lady?
Cel.
O Yes; a notable good wench:
Dem.
The devill fetch her.
Cel.
'Tis ev'n the merriest wench—
Dem.
Did she keepe with ye too?
Cel.
She was all in all; my bedfellow, eate with me,
Brought me acquainted.
Dem.
You are well knowne here then?
Cel.
There is no living here a stranger I thinke.
Dem.
How came ye by this brave gowne?
Cel.
This is a poore one:
Alas, I have twenty richer: do you see these jewels?
Why, they are the poorest things, to those are sent me,
And sent me hourely too.
Dem.
Is there no modestie?
No faith in this faire Sexe?
Leo.
What will this prove too?
For yet with all my wits, I understand not.
Dem.
Come hether; thou art dead indeed, lost, tainted;
All that I left thee faire, and innocent,
Sweet as thy youth, and carrying comfort in't;
All that I hoped for vertuous, is fled from thee,
Turn'd backe, and banckrupt.
Leo.
By'r Lady, this cuts shrewdly.
Dem.
Thou art dead, for ever dead; sins surfet slew thee;
The ambition of those wanton eyes betraid thee;
Go from me grave of honor; go thou foule one,
Thou glory of thy sin; go thou dispis'd one,
And where there is no vertue, nor no virgin;
Where Chastitie was never knowne, nor heard of;
Where nothing reigns but imperious lust, and losers faces
Goe thether, child of bloud, and sing my doating.
Cel.
You do not speake this seriously I hope sir;
I did but jest with you.
Dem.
Looke not upon me,
There is more hell in those eyes, then hell harbours;
And when they flame, more torments.
Cel.
Dare ye trust me?
You durst once even with all you had: your love sir?
By this faire light I am honest.
Dem.
Thou subtle Circes,
Cast not upon the maiden light eclipses:
Curse not the day.
Cel.
Come, come, you shall not do this:
How faine you would seeme angry now, to fright me;
You are not in the field among your enemies;
Come, I must coole this courage.
Dem.
Out thou impudence,
Thou ulcer of thy Sexe; when I first saw thee,
I drew into mine eyes mine owne destruction,
I puld into my heart that sudden poyson,
That now consumes my deare content to sinders:
I am not now Demetrius, thou hast chang'd me;
Thou woman with thy thousand wiles hast chang'd me;
Thou Serpent with thy angell-eyes hast slaine me;
And where, before I touch'd on this faire ruine,
I was a man, and reason made, and mov'd me,
Now one great lump of griefe. I grow and wander.
Cel.
And as you are noble, do you thinke I did this?
Dem.
Put all the devills wings on, and flie from me.
Cel.
I will go from ye, never more to see ye:
I will flie from ye, as a plague hangs o're me;
And through the progresse of my life hereafter;
Where ever I shall find a foole, a false man,
One that ne're knew the worth of pollish'd vertue;
A base suspecter of a virgins honour,
A child that flings away the wealth he cride for,
Him will I call Demetrius: that foole Demetrius,
That mad man a Demetrius; and that false man,
The Prince of broken faiths, even Prince Demetrius.
You thinke now, I should cry, and kneele down to ye,
Petition for my peace; let those that feele here
The weight of evill, waite for such a favour,
I am above your hate, as far above it,
In all the actions of an innocent life,
As the pure Stars are from the muddy meators:
Crye when you know your folly: howle and curse then,
Beate that unmanly breast, that holds a false heart
When ye shall come to know, whom ye have flung from ye.
Dem.
Pray ye stay a little.
Cel.
Not your hopes can alter me,
Then let a thousand backe thoughts muster in ye,
And with those enter in a thousand doatings;
144
My innocence for ever haunt and fright ye:
Those armes together grow in folds; that tongue,
That bold bad tongue that barkes out these disgraces.
When you shall come to know how nobly vertuous
I have preserv'd my life, rot, rot within ye.
Dem.
What shall I doe?
Cel.
Live a lost man for ever.
Goe aske your fathers conscience what I suffered,
And through what seas of hazards I sayl'd through:
Mine honour still advanced in spight of tempests,
Then take your leave of love; and confesse freely,
You were never worthy of this heart that serv'd ye,
And so farewell ungratefull—
Exit.
Dem.
Is she gone?
Leo.
Ile follow her, and will find out this matter.
Exit.
Enter Antigonus, and Lords.
Antig.
Are ye pleas'd now? have you got your heart again?
Have I restor'd ye that?
Dem.
Sir: even for heavens sake,
And sacred truth sake, tell me how ye found her.
Antig.
I will, and in few words. Before I tride her,
'Tis true, I thought her most unfit your fellowship,
And fear'd her too: which feare begot that story
I told ye first: but since, like gold I toucht her.
Dem.
And how deare sir?
Antig.
Heavens holy light's not purer:
The constancy and goodnesse of all women
That ever liv'd, to win the names of worthy,
This noble Maid has doubled in her: honour,
All promises of wealth, all art to win her,
And by all tongues imploy'd, wrought as much on her
As one may doe upon the Sun at noone day
By lighting Candles up: her shape is heavenly,
And to that heavenly shape her thoughts are angells.
Dem.
Why did you tell me sir?
Antig.
'Tis true, I err'd in't:
But since I made a full proofe of her vertue,
I find a King too poore a servant for her.
Love her, and honour her; in all observe her.
She must be something more then time yet tels her:
And certaine I beleeve him blest, enjoyes her:
I would not lose the hope of such a daughter,
To adde another Empire to my honour.
Exit.
Dem.
O wretched state! to what end shall I turn me?
And where begins my penance? now, what service
Will win her love againe? my death must doe it:
And if that sacrifice can purge my follies,
Be pleas'd, O mightie Love, I dye thy servant.—
Exit.
| The Humorous Lieutenant | |