University of Virginia Library

Actus Quintus.

Scæna Prima.

Enter Duchesse, Syenna, and Lords,
Sy.
Lady, the stubborn war's more milde then you are,
That allowes Ransome, and the Prisoner taken—

Duch.
We must not be too hasty: Remember Sir,
The wrong and violence you have offer'd us,
Burnt up our Frontire Townes, made prey before ye
Both of our Beasts, and Corne; slaine our deare Subjects,
Open'd the fountaine eyes of thousand widowes,
That daily fling their curses on your fury;
What ordinary satisfaction can salve this?
What hasty thought-on Ransome give a remedy?
You must excuse us yet, we'l take more counsell;
In the meane time, not as a Prisoner,
But as a noble Prince we entertaine ye.

Sy.
I am at your mercy Lady, 'tis my fortune,
My stubborne fate; the day is yours, you have me,
The valour of one single man has cross'd me,
Crost me and all my hope; for when the Battels
Were at the hottest game of all their furies,
And conquest ready then to crowne me Victor,
One single man broke in, one sword, one vertue,
And by his great example thousands followed,
O how I shame to think on't, how it shakes me!
Nor could our strongest head then stop his fury,
But like a tempest 'bore the field before him,
Till he arriv'd at me, with me he buckell'd,
A while I held him play; at length his violence
Beat me from my Saddle, then on foot pursu'd me,
There triumph'd once againe, then tooke me Prisoner:
When I was gone a feare possest my people.

Duch.
One single arme, in a just cause, heaven prospers.
Is not this stranger Knight as yet discover'd,
That we may give his vertue a due honour?

Lord.
Not yet that we hear Madam, but to that purpose,
Two dayes ago we publish'd Proclamations

Enter Soto with a Trumpet, and Silvio.
Soto.
O dainty Duchesse, here I bring that Knight
Before thy fragrant face, that warlike wight,
He that Syenna's Duke, and all his Louts
Beat (as the Proverb seemly sayes) to clouts:
He that unhorss'd the man of fame to boot,
And bootlesse taught his Grace to walk afoot:
He that your writings (pack'd to every pillar)
Promis'd promotion to, and store of filler,
That very man I set before thy Grace,
And once againe pronounce this man it was.

Duch.
A pretty foolish Squire, what must the Knight be?

Sy.
Some Jugler, or some Mad-man.

Sil.
I was not so,
When thy faint Troopes in flockes I beat before me,
When through the thickest of thy warlike horse
I shot my selfe, even to thy Standard Duke,
And there found thee, there singled thee, there shew'd thee
The temper of my Sword. 'Tis true, thou stood'st me,
And like a noble Souldier bid'st me welcome;
And this ile say, More honour in that arme
I found and tryed, then all thy Army carried:
What followes thy Imprisonment can tell thee.

Sy.
His faire relation carries truth and vertue,
And by those Armes I see (for such were his,
So old, so rusty) this may be he that forc'd me.

Sil.
Do you know this Jewell, from your Cask I rent it,
Even as I clos'd, and forced ye from your saddle;
Do you now remember me?

Sy.
This is the valour
Madam, for certaine he, it must be he,
That day I wore this Jewell, you remember it.

Duch.
Yes, very well; not long before I sent it.

Sy.
That day I lost this Jewell, in fight I lost it,
I felt his stroakes, and felt him take it from me,
I wore it in my Cask; take it againe Sir,
You won it nobly, 'tis the prize of honour.

Soto.
My Father, and my selfe are made for ever.

Duc.
Kneele down brave Sir, thus my Knight first I raise ye,
Gird on a Sword; next Generall of my Army,
Give him a Staffe; last, one in Counsell neare me.
Now, make us happy with your sight: how? Silvio?
Have I on thee bestow'd this love, this honour?
The Treasons thou hast wrought set off with favours?
Unarme him presently: O thou foule Traitor,
Traitor to me, mine honour, and my Country,
Thou kindler of these Warres.

Sil.
Mistake not Madam.

Duch.
Away with him to prison,
See him safe kept, the Law shall shortly Sirra,
Finde fitter titles for ye, then I gave ye.

Soto.
This is the youth that kild me, ile be quit with him,
What a blinde rogue was I, I could never know him?
And't please your Grace, I claime the benefit
Of the Proclamation that proclaim'd him Traitor,
I brought him in.

Duch.
Thou shalt have thy reward for't.

Soto.
Let him be hang'd, or drown'd then.

Duch.
Away with him.

Sil.
Madam, I crave your promise first; you are tyed to it,
You have past your Princely word.

Duch.
Prove it, and take it.

Sil.
This is the day appointed,
Appointed by your Grace for my appearance,
To answer to the Question.

Duch.
I remember it.

Sil.
I claime it then,

Duch.
If you performe it not,
The penalty you claime too.

Sil.
I not repent it;
If I absolve the words?

Duch.
Your life is free then,
You have drawne a speedy course above my wishes,
To my rezenge, be sure ye hit it right,
Or ile be sure you shall not scape the danger.

Sil.
My rest is up now Madam.

Duch.
Then play it cunningly.

Sil.
Now, where's the Hag? where now are all her promises,
She would be with me, strengthen me, informe me?
My death will now be double death, ridiculous:
She was wont still to be neare, to feele my miseries,
And with her Art, I see her no where now;
What have I undertaken? now she failes me,
No comfort now I finde, how my soule staggers?
Till this houre never fear, nor doubt possest me,
She cannot come, she will not come, she has fool'd me;
Sure, she is the Devill, has drawne me on to ruine,
And now to death bequeaths me in my danger.

Sy.
He stands distracted, and his colour changes.

Duch.
I have given him that will make his blood forsake him;
Shortly his life.

Sy.
His hands and contemplation
Have motion still, the rest is earth already.

Duc.
Come, will ye speak or pray? your time growes out Sir;
How every where he looks? he's at last cast.

Enter Belvidere, and secretly gives him a paper, and Exit.
Sy.
His colour comes againe fresh.

Duc.
'Tis a flash, Sir,
Before the flame burnes out; can ye yet answer?

Sil.
Yes Madam, now I can.

Duch.
I feare you'l faile in't.

Sil.
And do not think my silence a presage,
Or Omen to my end, you shall not finde it;
I am bred a Souldier, not an Orator,
Madam, peruse this scrowle, let that speake for me,
And as you are Royall, wrong not the construction.

Duch.
By Heaven you shall have faire play.

Sil.
I shall looke for't.

Duch.
You have answer'd right, and gain'd your life,
I give it.

Sil.
O happy Hag! But my most gracious Madam,
Your promise tide a nobler favour to me.

Duch.
'Tis true, my daughter too.

Sil.
I hope you will keep it.

Duc.
'Tis not in my powre now, she is long since wanderd,
Stolne from the Court, and me; and what I have not
I cannot give: no man can tell me of her,
Nor no search finde her out: and if not Silvio,
Which strongly I beleeve—

Sil.
Mock me not Lady,
For as I am a servant to her vertue,
Since my first howre of exile, I ne're saw her

Lord.
That she is gone 'tis too too true, and lamentable,
Our last hope was in you.

Sil.
What do I heare then,
And wherefore have I life bestow'd and honour?
To what end do I walk? for men to wonder at,
And fight, and foole? pray ye take your honours from me,
(My sorrowes are not fit companions for 'em)
And when ye please my life: Art thou gone Mistris,
And wander'st heaven knowes where? this vow I make thee,
That till I finde thee out, and see those faire eyes,
Those eyes that shed their lights, and life into me,
Never to know a friend, to seeke a kindred,
To rest where pleasure dwells, and painted glory,
But through the world, the wide world thus to wander,
The wretched world alone, no comfort with me,
But the meere meditations of thy goodnesse:
Honour and greatnesse, thus adieu.

Enter Belvidere.
Bel.
Stay Silvio,
And Lady sit againe, I come for Justice.

Sil.
What would she now?

Bel.
To claime thy promise Silvio,
The Boone thou swor'st to give me.

Sy.
What may this be,
A woman, or a Devill?

Duch.
'Tis a Witch sure,
And by her meanes he came to untwist this Riddle,

Sil.
That I am bound to her for my liffe, mine honour,
And many other thousand waies for comfort
I here confesse: Confesse a promise too,
That what she would aske me to requite these favours,
Within the endeavour of my life to grant,
I would; and here I stand my words full master.

Bel.
I wish no more: great Lady, witnesse with me,
The Boone I crave for all my service to thee,
Is now to be thy wife, to grant me marriage.

Sil.
How? for to marry thee? aske againe woman,
Thou wilfull woman, aske againe.

Bel.
No more Sir.

Sil.
Aske land, and life.

Bel.
I aske thee for a Husband.

Soto.
Marry her, and beat her into Gun-powder,
She would make rare Crackers.

Sil.
Aske a better fortune,
Thou art too old to marry: I a Souldier,
And alwaies married to my sword.

Bel.
Thy word Foole,
Breake that, and ile breake all thy fortunes yet.

Duch.
He shall not,
I am witnesse to his faith: and ile compell it.

Sy.
'Tis fit ye hold your word, Sir.

Sil.
O most wretched.

Duch.
This was a fortune now beyond my wishes,
For now my Daughter's free, if e're I finde her.

Sy.
But not from me.

Duch.
You are sharer in this happinesse,
My selfe will wait upon this marriage,
And do the old woman all the honour possible.

Sy.
Ile lead the Knight, and what there wants in dalliance,
Wee'l take it out in drinke.

Sil.
O wretched Silvio.

Exeunt.

Scæna Secunda.

Enter Lopez and Isabella.
Lop.
Hast thou sent for him?

Isab.
Yes,

Lop.
A young man, saist thou?

Isab.
Yes, very young, and very amarous.

Lop.
And handsom?

Isab.
As the Town affords.

Lop.
And dar'st thou
Be so farre good, and Mistris of thine honour,
To sleight these?

Isab.
For my husbands sake to curse 'em,
And since you have made me Mistris of my fortune,
Never to point at any joy, but husband,
I could have cozen'd ye, but so much I love ye,
And now so much I weigh the estimation
Of an unspotted wife—

Lop.
I dare believe thee,
And never more shall doubt torment my spirit.

Enter Penurio.
Isab.
How now Penurio?

Pen.
The thing is comming, Mistris.

Lop.
Ile take my standing.

Pen.
Do, and ile take mine.

Exit Lopes.
Isab.
Where didst thou leave him?

Pen.
I left him in a Cellar,
Where he has paid me titely, paid me home Mistris,
We had an hundred & fifty healths to you, sweet Mistris,
And three score and ten damnations to my Master;
Mistris, shall I speak a foolish word to ye?

Isab.
What's that Penurio?
The fellow's drunke.

Pen.
I would faine know your body.

Isab.
How's that? how's that prethee?

Pen.
I would know it carnally,
I would conglutinate.

Isab.
The reason sirrah?

Pen.
Lobster, sweet Mistris, Lobster.

Isab.
Thy Master heares.

Pen.
Lobster, sweet Master, Lobster.

Isab.
Thou art the most precious rogue.

Enter Claudio.
Pen.
Most pretious Lobster.

Isab.
Do you see who's here? go sleep ye drunken rascall.

Pen.
Remember you refuse me arm'd in Lobster.

Exit.
Isab.
O my lost Rugio, welcome, welcome, welcome,
A thousand welcomes here Ile seale.

Cla.
Pray ye stay, Lady,
Do you love me ever at this rate? or is the fit now,
By reason of some wrong done by your husband,
More fervent on ye?

Isab.
Can I chuse but love thee?
Thou art my Martyr, thou hast suffered for me,
My sweet, sweet Rugio.

Cla.
Do you do this seriously?
'Tis true, I would be entertained thus.

Isab.
These are nothing,
No kisses, no embraces, no endeerements,
To those—

Cla.
Do what you will.

Isab.
Those that shall follow,
Those I will crowne our love withall; why sigh ye?
Why look ye sad my deere one?

Cla.
Nay faith nothing,
But me thinks so sweet a beauty, as yours showes to me,
And such an innocence as you may make it,
Should hold a longer Siege.

Isab.
Ha, you speake truth, Sir.

Cla.
I would not have it so.

Isab.
And now methinkes,
Now I consider truly what becomes me,
I have been cozen'd, fearefully abus'd,
My reason blinded.

Cla.
Nay, I did but jest with ye.

Isab.
Ile take ye at your word, and thank ye for't Sir;
And now I see no sweetnesse in that person,
Nothing to stir me to abuse a Husband,
To ruine my faire fame.

Cla.
Good Isabella.

Isab.
No hansome man, no any thing to doat on,
No face, no tongue to catch me, poore at all points,
And I an asse.

Cla.
Why do ye wrong me Lady?
If I were thus, and had no youth upon me,
My service of so meane a way to win ye,
(Which you your selfe are conscious must deserve ye,
If you had thrice the beauty you possesse, must reach ye)
If in my tongue your fame lay wrack't, and ruin'd
With every cup I drink: if in opinion
I were a lost, defam'd man: but this is common
Where we love most, where most we stake our fortunes,
There least and basest we are rewarded: fare ye well,
Know now I hate you too as much, contemne ye,
And weigh my credit at as high a value.

Isab.
May be I did but jest.

Cla.
Ye are a woman,
And now I see your wants, and mine owne follies,
And task my selfe with indiscretion,
For doating on a face so poore.

Isab.
Say ye so Sir,
(I must not lose my end) I did but jest with you,
Only fool'd thus to try your faith: my Rugio,
Do you think I could forget?

Cla.
Nay, 'tis no matter.

Isab.
Is't possible I should forsake a constancy,
So strong, so good, so sweet?

Cla.
A subtle woman.

Isab.
You shall forgive me, 'twas a trick to try ye,
And were I sure ye lov'd me—

Cla.
Do you doubt now?

Isab.
I do not doubt, but he that would professe this,
And beare that full affection you make shew of,
Should do—

Cla.
What should I do?

Isab.
I cannot shew ye.

Cla.
Ile try thee damnedst Devill: hark ye Lady,
No man shall dare do more, no service top me,
Ile marry ye.

Isab.
How Sir?

Cla.
Your husbands sentenc'd,
And he shall dye.

Isab.
Dye?

Cla.
Dye for ever to ye,
The danger is mine owne.

Isab.
Dye did ye tell me?

Cla.
He shall dye, I have cast the way.

Isab.
O foule man,
Malicious bloody man.

Enter Lopez.
Lop,
When shall he dye Sir,
By whom, and how?

Cla.
Hast thou betray'd me, woman?

Isab.
Base man, thou wouldst have ruin'd me, my name too,
And like a Toad, poyson'd my vertuous memory:
Further then all this, dost thou see this friend here,
This only friend, shame take thy lost and thee,
And shake thy soule, his life, the life I love thus,
My life in him, my only life thou aim'dst at.

Cla.
Am I catch't thus?

Lop.
The Law shall catch ye better.

Isab.
You make a trade of betraying womens honours,
And think it noble in ye to be lustfull,
Report of me hereafter—

Cla.
Fool'd thus finely?

Lop.
I must intreat ye walk, Sir, to the Justice,
Where if hee'l bid ye kill me—

Cla.
Pray stay a while, Sir,
I must use a Players shift, do you know me now Lady?

Lop.
Your brother Claudio sure.

Isab.
O me, 'tis he Sir,
O my best brother.

Cla.
My best sister now too,
I have tryed ye, found ye so, and now I love ye,
Love ye so truly nobly.

Lop.
Sir, I thank ye,
You have made me a most happy man.

Cla.
Thank her Sir,
And from this houre preserve that happinesse,
Be no more fool'd with jealousie.

Lop.
I have lost it,
And take me now new borne againe, new natur'd.

Isab.
I do, and to that promise tye this faith,
Never to have a false thought tempt my vertue.

Lop.
Enough, enough, I must desire your presence,
My Cozen Rhodope has sent in all hast for us,
I am sure you will be welcome.

Cla.
Ile wait on ye.

Lop.
What the Project is—

Isab.
We shall know when we are there, Sir.

Exeunt.

Scæna Tertia.

Enter Duchesse, Syenna, Lords, Silvio.
Duch.
Joy to you Silvio, and your young faire Bride,
You have stolne a day upon us; you cannot wooe Sir.

Sil.
The joyes of Hell hang over me, O mischiefe,
To what a fortune has the Devill driven me?
Am I reserv'd for this?

Sy.
Beshrew me Sir,
But you have gotten you a right faire bedfellow,
Let you alone to chuse.

Sil.
I beseech your Grace,
'Tis misery enough to have met the Devill,
Not mens reproches too.

Sy.
How old is she?

Duch.
A very Girle, her eye delivers it.

Sy.
Her teeth are scarce come yet.

Lord.
What goodly children
Will they two have now? she is rarely made to breed on,
What a sweet timberd body?

Duch.
Knotty i'th back,
But will hold out the stronger; What a nose?

Sy.
I marry, such a nose, so rarely mounted,
Upon my conscience, 'twas the part he doted on.

Duch.
And that fine little eye to it, like an Elephants.

Lord.
Yes, if her feet were round, and her ears sachells.

Sy.
For any thing we know.

Sil.
Have ye no mercy?
No pitty in your bloods, to use a wretch thus?
You Princes, in whose hearts the best compassions,
Neerest to those in Heaven, should finde fit places,
Why do you mock at misery? fling scornes and basenesse
Upon his broken back, that sinks with sorrowes?
Heaven may reward you too, and an houre come,
When all your great designes shall shew ridiculous,
And your hearts pinch'd like mine.

Musick in divers places
Duch.
Fye Sir, so angry
Upon your wedding day? go smug your selfe,
The Maid will come anon: what Musick's this?

Sy.
I warrant you some noble preparation.

Duch.
Let's take our places then.

Sil.
More of these Devills dumps?
Must I be ever haunted with these witchcrafts?

Enter a Masquerado of severall Shapes and Daunces, after which enters Belvidere and dispenses them, before the Maskers enter two Presenters, among which are Bartello, Lopez, Claudio, Isabella, Rhodope, Soto, Penurio, Jaquenet.
1 Pre.
Roome, roome for merry spirits, roome,
Hether on command we come,
From the good old Beldam sent,
Cares and sorrowes to prevent.

2.
Looke up Silvio, smile, and sing,
After winter comes a spring.

1.
Feare not faint foole what may follow,
Eyes that now are sunk and hollow,
By her Art may quick returne
To their flames againe, and burne.

2.
Art commands all youth, and blood,
Strength and beauty it makes good.

1.
Feare not then, dispaire not, sing
Round about as we do spring:
Cares and sorrowes cast away,
This is the old wives holy-day.

Daunce here, then enter Belvidere.
Duch.
Who is this?

Sy.
The shape of Belvidere.

Bel.
Now Silvio,
How do'st thou like me now?

Sil.
Thus I kneele to thee.

Bel.
Stand up, and come no nearer, mark me well too,
For if thou troublest me I vanish instantly:
Now chuse wisely or chuse never,
One thou must enjoy for ever.
Do'st thou love me thus?

Sil.
Most dearely.

Bel.
Take heed foole, it concernes thee nearely.
If thou wilt have me young and bright,
Pleasing to thine eye and sight,
Courtly, and admir'd of all,
Take heed least thy fame do fall,
I shall then be full of scorne,
Wanton, proud, beware the horne,
Hating what I lov'd before,
Flattery apt to fall before,
All consuming, nothing getting,
Thus thy faire name comes to setting.
But if old and free from these
Thou shalt chuse me, I shall please:
I shall then maintaine thee still,
With my vertue and my skill:
Still encrease and build thy name,
Chuse now Silvio, here I am.

Sil.
I know not what to say, which way to turne me,
Into thy Soveraigne will I put my answer.

Bel.
I thank ye Sir, and my will thus rewards ye,
Take your old Love, your best, your dearest Silvio:
No more Spells now, nor further shapes to alter me,
I am thy Belvidere indeed, Deare Mother,
There is no altering this, heavens hand is with it:
And now you ought to give me, he has fairely won me.

Sil.
But why that Hag?

Bel.
In that shape most secure still,
I followed all your fortunes, serv'd, and counsell'd ye,
I met ye at the Farmers first a Country wench,
Where fearing to be knowne I tooke that habit,
And to make ye laughing sport at this mad marriage,
By secret ayde of my friend Rhodope
We got this Maske.

Sil.
And I am sure I have ye.

Bel.
For ever now, for ever.

Duch.
You see it must be,
The wheele of destiny hath turn'd it round so.

Sy.
It must, it is, and curs'd be he that breakes it.

Duch.
Ile put a choyce to you Sir: ye are my Prisoner.

Sy.
I am so, and I must be so, till it please you—

Duch.
Chuse one of these, either to pay a Ransome,
At what rate I shall set it, which shall be high enough,
And so returne a Free-man, and a Bachellor,
Or give me leave to give you a fit wife,
In honour every way your Graces equall,
And so your Ransom's paid.

Sy.
You say most nobly,
Silvio's example's mine, pray chuse you for me.

Duc.
I thank ye Sir, I have got the mastry too,
And here I give your Grace a husbands freedome,
Give me your hand, my Husband.

Sy.
You much honour me,
And I shall ever serve ye for this favour.

Bart.
Come Lopez, let us give our wives the breeches too,
For they will have 'em.

Lop.
Whilst they rule with vertue
Ile give 'em, skin and all.

Isab.
Wee'l scratch it off else.

Sil.
I am glad ye live, more glad ye live to honour,
And from this houre a stronger love dwell with us;
Pray you take your man againe.

Cla.
He knowes my house Sir.

Duch.
'Tis sin to keep you longer from your Loves,
Wee'l lead the way; and you young men that know not
How to preserve a wife, and keep her faire,
Give 'em their soveraign wills, & pleas'd they are.

Exeunt.