University of Virginia Library

Scæna prima.

Enter Bartello, and Silvio.
Sil.
Tis true she is a right good Princes, and a just one,
And Florence when she sets has lost a Planet.

Bar.
My Mistris? I tell thee gentle Nephew,
There is not such another friend to goodnesse,
To down-right dealing, to faith and true heart
Within the Christian confines: Before she blest us,
Iustice was a Cheese-monger, a meere Cheese-monger,
Weigh'd nothing to the World but mytes and maggots,
And a maine stinke: Law like a Horse-courser,
Her rules, and precepts hung with gawdes and ribbonds,
And pamper'd up to cousen him that bought her,
When she her selfe was hackney lame and founder'd.

Sil.
But the sweet Lady,
Belvidere the bright one—

Bar.
I, there's a face indeed: O my deare Nephew,
Could a young fellow of thy fiery mettle
Freeze, and that Lady in his armes?

Sil.
I think not.

Bar.
Thou hast a parlous judgement; but let that passe,
She is as truly vertuous, faire, and noble,
As her great Mother's good; and that's not ordinary.

Sil.
But why (so many Princes, and so great ones
Being Suitors) should the Dutchesse deny to match her?

Bar.
She is a Jewell man, hangs in her bosome,
Her only Childe: with her eyes she sees all things,
Discourses with her tongue, and pluck her from her
So dotingly the old one loves her young one)
You pluck her heart out too: Besides, of late daies,
The Duke of Millaine, who could never win her
By love, nor treaty, laid a close traine for her
In her owne private walkes: some forty Horse-men,
So to surprize her; which we found, and dealt with,
And sent 'em running home to the Duke their Master,
Like Doggs with bottles at their tailes.

Sil.
Since that, I heard Sir,
She has sent her to your Cittadell to secure her,
My cousen Rodope, your wife attending her.

Bar.
You heare a truth, and all convenient pleasures
Are there proportion'd for her.

Sil.
I would faine Sir,
Like one that owes a dutious service to her
Sometimes, so please you—

Bar.
Gentle Cousen pardon me,
I must not, nor you must not dare to offer,
The last Edict lyes on his life pursues it;
Your friend Sir to command, abroad to love you,
To lend ye any thing I have, to wait upon ye,
But in the Cittadell where I stand charg'd,
Not a bit upon a march: no service Sir,
No, good Sir by no meanes: I kisse your hands Sir.

Exit.
Sil.
To your keeping only? none else to look upon her?
None but Bartello worthy her attendance?
No faith but his to serve her? O Belvidere,
Thou Saint to whom my youth is sacrific'd,
Thou point to which my life turnes, and my fortune,
Art thou lock'd from me now? from all my comforts,
Art thou snatch'd violently? thou hear'st me not,
Nor canst thou see (faire soule) thy Servants mournings,
Yet let thy gentle heart feele what his absence,
The great divorce of minds so truly loving,
So long, and nurs'd in one affection
Even from our infant eyes, suck'd in and nourish'd:
O let it feele but that, and there stand constant
And I am blest. My deare Neece Rodope,
That is her Governesse, did love me dearely,
There's one hope yet to see her: when he is absent
It may be ventur'd, and she may work it closely:
I know the Ladies will goes equall with me,
And so the danger of the Edict avoyded;
Let me think more, for I must try all hazards.

Enter Claudio, and Soto.
Soto.
Will ye go yonder Sir?

Cla.
Yes marry will I Sir.

Soto.
And by this Ladder?

Cla.
By that Ladder, coxcomb.

Soto.
Have ye any more necks at home when this is broken,
For this will crack with the best friend he has Sir?
Or can you pitch of all foure, like an Ape now?
Let me see you tumble.

Cla.
You are very pleasant Sir.

Soto.
No truly Sir, I should be loath to see ye
Come fluttering down like a yong Rooke, cry squab,
And take ye up with your brains beaten into your buttocks

Cla.
Hold your peace Asse: who's this stands musing here?
Silvio?

Sil.
Who calls me?

Cla.
One most glad to see you Sir.

Sil.
My dearest Claudio? what make you thus private,
And with a preparation of this nature?

Soto.
We have leave to play, and are going to climbe Birds nests.

Sil.
Prethee what is it friend? why start ye from me?
Is your old Mistris growne so coy and cruell,
She must be scal'd? it seemes you are loath to tell me,
Since twenty yeares continuance of our friendship
May not be worth the weight of such a secret,
'Twill be but rude to aske againe: 'save ye.

Cla.
Nay stay, deare Silvio, if you love me take it:
For till you know it, never woman labour'd
As I do now.

Sil.
Ile do my best to ease it.

Cla.
You have heard the Lady Belvidere—

Sil.
What heard Sir?

Cla.
Heard to the Cittadell, upon some feares
She is confin'd.

Sil.
Why dreames he on this beauty?
'Tis true, I have heard it.

Cla.
And that no accesse,
No blessing from those eyes but with much hazard,
Even hazard of a life.

Sil.
He dares not love her;
I have heard that too: but whither points your purpose?

Cla.
O Silvio, let me speake that none may heare me,
None but thy truth: I have lov'd this Lady long,
Long given away my life to her devotion,
Long dwelt upon that beauty to my ruine.

Sil.
Do's she know this?

Cla.
No, there begins my misery,
Ixion-like, I have onely yet clasp'd Clouds,
And fed upon poore empty dreames that starve me.

Sil.
And what do you meane to do now?

Cla.
Though I dye for't,
Though all the tortures in the world hung on me,
Arm'd with imperious Love, I stand prepar'd now,
With this to reach her Chamber: there to see her,
And tell her boldly with what truth I love her.

Sil.
'Twill not be easily done Sir.

Cla.
O my Silvio,
The hardest things are sweetest in possession.

Sil.
Nor will shew much discretion.

Cla.
Love is blinde man,
And he that lookes for reason there far blinder.

Sil.
Have ye consider'd ripely?

Cla.
All that may fall,
And arm'd against that all.

Sil.
Her honour too?
What she may suffer in this rash adventure?
The beauty of her name?

Cla.
Ile do it closely,
And only at her window, with that caution—

Sil.
Are there no Guards?

Cla.
Corruption chokes their service.

Sil.
Or do you hold her bred so light a woman
To hold commerce with strange tongues?

Cla.
Why this service,
This only hazard of my life must tell her,
Though she were Vestas selfe, I must deserve her.

Sil.
I would not have ye go: pray let it sinke here,
And think a nobler way to raise your service,
A safer, and a wiser.

Cla.
'Tis too late Sir.

Sil.
Then I must say, You shall not go.

Cla.
I shall not?

Sil.
You shall not go: that part bred with ye, friendship
Bids me say boldly so, and you observe me.

Cla.
You stretch that tye too far.

Sil.
Ile stretch it farther:
The honour that I beare that spotlesse vertue
You fouly seeke to taint, unnobly covet,
Bids me command ye stay: if not, thus force ye.

Soto.
This will be worse then climbing.

Cla.
Why do ye draw Sir?

Sil.
To kill thee, if thy base will be thy Master.

Cla.
I ever was your friend.

Sil.
Whilst thou wert honest,
And not a Night-theife of anothers honour;
I never call'd a Foole my friend, a mad-man,
That durst expose his fame to all opinions,
His life to unhonest dangers: I never lov'd him,
Durst know his name, that sought a Virgins ruine,
Nor ever tooke I pleasure in acquaintance
With men, that give as loose raynes to their fancies
As the wilde Ocean to his raging fluxes:
A noble soule I twin with, and my love
Followes, his life dares master his affections.
Will ye give off, or fight?

Cla.
I will not fight with ye:
The sacred name of friend tyes up that anger,
Rather ile study.

Sil.
Do, to be a friend still.

Cla.
If this way, I shall never hold.

Sil.
Ile watch ye:
And if I catch ye false: by Heaven ye dye for't,
All love forgot.

Cla.
When I feare that I am fit for't.

Exeunt.