 | A VVife for a Moneth |  |
Actus Tertius.
Scæna Prima.
Enter divers Monkes, Alphonso going to the Tombe, Rugio and Frier Marco discover the Tombe and a Chaire.Mar.
The night growes on, lead softly to the Tombe,
And sing not till I bid ye; let the Musick
Play gently as he passes.
Rug.
O faire picture,
That wert the living hope of all our honours;
How are we banisht from the joy we dreamt of?
Will he ne're speak more?
Mar.
'Tis full three moneths Lord Rugio,
Since any articulate sound came from his tongue,
Set him downe gently.
Sits in a Chaire.
Rug.
What should the reason be Sir?
Mar.
As 'tis in nature with those loving Husbands,
That sympathize their wives paines, and their throwes
When they are breeding, and 'tis usuall too,
We have it by experience so in him Sir,
In this most noble spirit that now suffers;
For when his honour'd Father good Brandino
Fell sick, he felt the griefes, and labour'd with them,
His sits and his disease he still inherited,
Grew the same thing, and had not nature check'd him,
Strength, and ability, he had dyed that houre too.
Rug.
Embleme of noble love!
Mar.
That very minute
His fathers breath forsooke him, that same instant,
A rare example of his piety,
And love paternall, the Organ of his tongue
Was never heard to sound againe; so neare death
He seekes to waite upon his worthy Father,
But that we force his meat, he were one body.
Rug.
He points toth' Tombe.
Mar.
That is the place he honours,
A house I feare he will not be long out of.
He will toth' Tombe, good my Lord lend your hand;
Now sing the Funerall Song, and let him kneele,
For then he is pleas'd.
A Song.
Rug.
Heaven lend thy powerfull hand,
And ease this Prince.
Mar.
He will passe back againe.
Exeunt.
Enter Valerio.
Val.
They drink abundantly, I am hot with wine too,
Lustily warme, ile steale now to my happinesse,
'Tis midnight, and the silent houre invites me,
But she is up still, and attends the Queene;
Thou dew of wine and sleep hang on their eye-lids,
Steep their dull sences in the healths they drink,
That I may quickly finde my lov'd Evanthe.
The King is merry too, and dranke unto me,
Signe of faire peace, O this nights blessednesse!
If I had forty heads I would give all for it.
Is not the end of our ambitions,
Of all our humane studies, and our travells,
Of our desires, the obtaining of our wishes?
Certaine it is, and there man makes his Center.
I have obtain'd Enanthe, I have married her,
Can any fortune keep me from injoying her?
55
I have my wish, what's left me to accuse now?
I am friends with all the world, but thy base malice;
Go glory in thy mischiefes thou proud man,
And cry it to the world thou hast ruin'd vertue;
How I contemne thee and thy petty malice,
And with what scorne I looke downe on thy practice.
Sor.
You'l sing me a new Song anon Ualerio,
And wish these hot words—
Val.
I despise thee fellow,
Thy threats, or flatteries, all I fling behinde me;
I have my end, I have thy noble Sister,
A name too worthy of thy blood; I have married her,
And will injoy her too.
Sor.
'Tis very likely.
Val.
And that short moneth I have to blesse me with her
Ile make an age, ile reckon each embrace
A yeare of pleasure, and each night a Jubilee,
Every quick kisse a Spring; and when I meane
To lose my selfe in all delightfulnesse,
Twenty sweet Summers I will tye together
In spight of thee, and thy malignant Master:
I will dye old in love, though young in pleasure.
Sor.
But that I hate thee deadly, I could pitty thee,
Thou art the poorest miserable thing
This day on earth; ile tell thee why Valerio,
All thou esteemest, and build'st upon for happinesse,
For joy, for pleasure, for delight is past thee,
And like a wanton dreame already vanisht.
Val.
Is my love false?
Sor.
No, she is constant to thee,
Constant to all thy misery she shall be,
And curse thee too.
Val.
Is my strong body weakn'd,
Charm'd, or abus'd with subtle drink? speak villaine.
Sor.
Neither, I dare speake, thou art still as lusty
As when thou lovsdst her first, as strong and hopefull,
The month thou hast given thee is a month of misery,
And where thou think'st each hower shall yeeld a pleasure
Looke for a killing paine, for thou shalt finde it
Before thou dyest, each minute shall prepare it,
And ring so many knells to sad afflictions;
The King has given thee a long moneth to dye in,
And miserably dye.
Val.
Undo thy Riddle,
I am prepar'd what ever fate shall follow.
Sor.
Dost thou see this Ring?
Val.
I know it too.
Sor.
Then marke me,
By vertue of this Ring this I pronounce to thee,
'Tis the Kings will.
Val.
Let me know it suddenly.
Sor.
If thou dost offer to touch Evanthes body
Beyond a kisse, though thou art married to her,
And lawfully as thou think'st may'st injoy her,
That minute she shall dye.
Val.
O Devill—
Sor.
If thou discover this command unto her,
Or to a friend that shall importune thee,
And why thou abstainest, and from whose will, ye all perish,
Upon the self-same forfeit are ye fitted Sir,
Now if ye love her, ye may preserve her life still,
If not, you know the worst, how falls your month out?
Val.
This tyranny could never be invented
But in the schoole of Hell, earth is too innocent;
Not to injoy her when she is my wife?
When she is willing too?
Sor.
She is most willing,
And will run mad to misse; but if you hit her,
Be sure you bit her home, and kill her with it;
There are such women that will dye with pleasure:
The Axe will follow else, that will not faile
To fetch her Maiden-head, and dispatch her quickly;
Then shall the world know you are the cause of Murther,
And as 'tis requisite your life shall pay for't.
Val.
Thou dost but jest, thou canst not be so moostrous
As thou proclaim'st thy selfe; thou art her Brother,
and there must be a feeling heart within thee
Of her afflictions; wert thou a stranger to us,
And bred amongst wilde rocks, thy nature wilde too,
Affection in thee as thy breeding, cold,
And unrelenting as the rocks that nourisht thee,
Yet thou must shake to tell me this; they tremble
When the rude sea threatens divorce amongst 'em,
They that are sencelesse things shake at a tempest;
Thou art a man—
Sor.
Be thou too then, 'twill try thee,
And patience now will best become thy noblenesse.
Val.
Invent some other torment to afflict me,
All, if thou please, put all afflictions on me,
Study thy braines out for 'em, so this be none
I care not of what nature, nor what cruelty,
Nor of what length.
Sor.
This is enough to vex ye.
Val.
The tale of Tantalus is now prov'd true,
And from me shall be registred Authentick;
To have my joyes within my armes, and lawfull,
Mine owne delights, yet dare not touch.
Even as thou hatest me Brother, let no young man know this,
As thou shalt hope for peace when thou most needest it,
Peace in thy soule, desire the King to kill me,
Make me a traitor, any thing, ile yeeld to it,
And give thee cause so I may dye immediatly;
Lock me in Prison where no Sun may see me,
In walls so thick no hope may ere come at me;
Keep me from meat, and drink, and sleep, ile blesse thee;
Give me some damned potion to deliver me,
That I may never know my selfe againe, forget
My Country kindred, name and fortune; last,
That my chaste love may never appeare before me,
This were some comfort.
Sor.
All I have I have brought ye,
And much may it do ye with it my deare Brother,
See ye observe it well; you will finde about ye
Many eyes set, that shall o're-looke your actions,
If you transgresse ye know, and so I leave ye,
Val.
Heaven be not angry, and I have some hope yet,
And when you please, and how allay my miseries.
Enter Frederick.
To whom I kneele be mercifull unto me,
Looke on my harmelesse youth Angels of pitty,
And from my bleeding heart wipe off my sorrowes,
The power, the pride, the malice and injustice
Of cruell men are bent against mine innocence.
You that controwle the mighty wills of Princes,
And bow their stubborne arms, look on my weaknesse,
And when you please, and how, allay my miseries.
Exit.
Fred.
Hast thou been with him?
Sor.
Yes, and given him that Sir
Will make him curse his Birth; I told ye which way,
Did you but see him Sir, but look upon him,
With what a troubled and dejected nature
He walkes now in a mist, with what a silence,
As if he were the shrowd he wrapt himselfe in,
And no more of Valerio but his shadow,
He seekes obscurity to hide his thoughts in,
56
His jollity is downe, valed to the ground Sir,
And his high hopes of full delights and pleasures
Are turn'd tormenters to him, strong diseases.
Fred.
But is there hope of her?
Sor.
It must fall necessary
She must dislike him, quarrell with his person,
For women once deluded are next Devills,
And in the height of that opinion Sir,
You shall put on againe, and she must meet ye,
Fred.
I am glad of this.
Sor.
Ile tell ye all the circumstance
Within this houre, but sure I heard your Grace
To day as I attended, make some stops,
Some broken speeches, and some sighs between,
And then your Brothers name I heard distinctly,
And some sad wishes after.
Fred.
Ye are i'th right Sir,
I would he were as sad as I could wish him,
Sad as the earth.
Sor.
Would ye have it so?
Fred.
Thou hearest me,
Though he be sick with small hope of recovery,
That hope still lives, and mens eyes live upon it,
And in their eyes their wishes; my Sorano,
Were he but cold once in the tombe he dotes on,
As 'tis the fittest place for melancholly,
My Court should be another Paradice,
And flow with all delights.
Sor.
Go to your pleasures, let me alone with this,
Hope shall not trouble ye, nor he three dayes.
Fred.
I shall be bound unto thee.
Enter Valerio, Camillo, Cleanthas, Menallo.
Sor.
Ile do it neatly too, no doubt shall catch me.
Fred.
Be gone, they are going to bed, ile bid good night to 'em.
Sor.
And mark the man, you'le scarce know 'tis Valerio.
Exit.
Cam.
Cheere up my noble Lord, the minutes come;
You shall injoy the abstract of all sweetnesse,
We did you wrong you need no wine to warme ye,
Desire shoots through your eyes like sudden wild-fires.
Val.
Beshrew me Lords, the wine has made me dull,
I am I know not what.
Fred.
Good pleasure to ye,
Good night and long too, as you finde your appetite
You may fall too.
Val.
I do beseech your Grace,
For which of all my loves and services
Have I deserved this:
Fred.
I am not bound to answer ye.
Val.
Nor I bound to obey in unjust actions.
Fred.
Do as you please, you know the penalty,
And as I have a soule it shall be executed;
Nay look not pale, I am not used to feare Sir,
If you respect your Lady, good night to ye
Exit.
Val.
But for respect to her and to my duty,
That reverent duty that I owe my Soveraigne,
Which anger has no power to snatch me from,
The good night should be thine; good night for ever,
The King is wanton Lords, he would needs know of me
How many nick chases I would make to night.
Men.
My Lord, no doubt you'l prove a perfect gamester.
Val.
Faith no, I am unacquainted with the pleasure,
Bungle a set I may, how my heart trembles,
And beats my breast as it would breake his way out
Good night my noble friends.
Cle.
Nay we must see you toward your bed my Lord:
Val.
Good faith it needs not,
'Tis late, and I shall trouble you.
Cam.
No, no, till the Bride come Sir.
Val.
I beseech you leave me,
You will make me bashfull else, I am so foolish,
Besides, I have some few devotions Lords,
And he that can pray with such a book in's armes—
Cam.
Wee'l leave ye then, and a sweet night wait
upon ye.
Men.
And a sweet issue of this sweet night crown ye.
Cle.
All nights and dayes be such till you grow old Sir.
Exeunt Lords.
Val.
I thanke ye, 'tis a curse sufficient for me,
A labour'd one too, though you meane a blessing.
What shall I do, I am like a wretched Debtor,
That has a summe to tender on the forfeit
Of all he is worth, yet dare not offer it.
Other men see the Sun, yet I must wink at it;
And though I know 'tis perfect day, deny it:
My veines are all on fire, and burne like Ætna,
Youth and desire beat larums to my blood,
And adde fresh fuell to my warme affections.
I must injoy her, yet when I consider,
When I collect my selfe, and weigh her danger,
The Tyrants will, and his powre taught to murther,
My tender care controlls my blood within me,
And like a cold fit of a peevish Ague
Creepes to my soule, and flings an Ice upon me.
Enter Queene, Evanthe, Ladies, and Foole.
That locks all powres of youth up but prevention;
O what a blessednesse 'twere to be old now,
To be unable, bed-rid with diseases,
Or halt on Crutches to meet holy Hymen;
What a rare benefit, but I am curst
That that speakes other men most freely happy,
And makes all eyes hang on their expectations,
Must prove the bane of me youth, and ability.
She comes to bed, how shall I entertaine her?
Ton.
Nay I come after too, take the foole with ye,
For lightly he is ever one at Weddings.
Quee.
Evanthe, make ye unready, your Lord staies for ye,
And prethee be merry.
Ton.
Be very merry, Chicken,
Thy Lord will pipe to thee anon, and make thee dance too.
Lady.
Will he so, good-man asse.
Ton.
Yes goody silly,
And you had such a Pipe, that piped so sweetly,
You would dance to death, you have learnt your singue a pace.
Evan.
Your Grace desires that that is too free in me,
I am merry at the heart.
Ton.
Thou wilt be anon, the young smug Boy will give
thee a sweet cordiall.
Evan.
I am so taken up in all my thoughts,
So possest Madam with the lawfull sweets
I shall this night partake of with my Lord,
So far transported (pardon my immmodesty)
Val.
Alas poore wench, how shall I recompence thee?
Evan.
That though they must be short, and snatcht away too,
E're they grow ripe, yet I shall far prefer 'em
Before a tedious pleasure with repentance.
Val.
O how my heart takes.
Evan.
Take off my Jewells Ladies,
And let my Ruffe loose, I shall bid good night to ye,
My Lord staies here.
Quee.
My wench, I thank thee heartily,
For learning how to use thy few houres hansomly,
57
Lay downe the bed there?
Ton.
Shall I get into it and warme it for thee, a Fooles fire is a fine thing,
And I'll so busse thee.
Quee.
Ile have ye whipt ye rascall.
Ton.
That will provoke me more, ile talke with thy husband,
He's a wise man I hope.
Evan.
Good night deare Madam,
Ladies, no further service, I am well,
I do beseech your Grace to give us this leave,
My Lord and I to one another freely,
And privately, may do all other Ceremonies,
Women and Page wee'l be to one another,
And trouble you no farther.
Ton.
Art thou a wife man?
Val.
I cannot tell thee Tony, aske my neighbours.
Ton.
If thou beest so, go lye with me to night,
The old foole will lye quieter then the young one,
And give thee more sleep, thou wilt looke to morrow else
Worse then the prodigall foole the Ballad speakes of,
That was sqeez'd through a horne.
Val.
I shall take thy counsell.
Quee.
Why then good night, good night my best Evanthe,
My worthy maid, and as that name shall vanish,
A worthy wife, a long and happy; follow sirra.
Evan.
That shall be my care,
Goodnesse rest with your Grace.
Quee.
Be lusty Lord, and take your Lady to ye,
And that power that shall part ye be unhappy.
Val.
Sweet rest unto ye, to ye all sweet Ladies;
Tony good night.
Ton.
Shall not the Foole stay with thee?
Quee.
Come away Sirra.
Exeunt Queene, Ladies.
Ton.
How the Foole is sought for, sweet Malt is made of easie fire,
A hasty horse will quickly tire, a sudden leaper sticks i'th mire,
Phlebotomy and the word lye nier, take heed of friend I thee require;
This from an Almanack I stole, and learnt this Lesson from a foole.
Good night my Bird.
Exit Tony
Evan.
Good night wise Master Tony;
Will ye to bed my Lord? Come, let me help ye.
Val.
To bed Evanthe, art thou sleepy?
Evan.
No, I shall be worse if you look sad upon me,
Pray ye let's to bed.
Val.
I am not well my love.
Evan.
Ile make ye well, there's no such Phisick for ye
As your warme Mistris armes.
Val.
Art thou so cunning?
Evan.
I speake not by experience, pray ye mistake not;
But if you love me—
Ual.
I do love so dearely,
So much above the base bent of desire
I know not how to answer thee.
Evan.
To bed then,
There I shall better credit yea; sie my Lord,
Will ye put a maid too't, to teach ye what to do?
An innocent maid? Are ye so cold a Lover?
Intruth you make me blush, 'tis midnight too,
And 'tis no stolne love, but authorised openly,
No sin we covet, pray let me undresse ye,
You shall help me; prethee sweet Valerio;
Be not so sad, the King will be more mercifull.
Val.
May not I love thy minde?
Evan.
And I yours too,
'Tis a most noble one, adorn'd with vertue;
But if we love not one another really,
And put our bodies and our mindes together,
And so make up the concord of affection,
Our love will prove but a blinde superstition:
This is no schoole to argue in my Lord,
Nor have we time to talke away allow'd us,
Pray let's dispatch, if any one should come
And finde us at this distance, what would they think?
Come, kisse me and to bed.
Val.
That I dare do, and kisse againe.
Evan.
Spare not, they are your owne Sir.
Val.
But to injoy thee is to be luxurious,
Too sensuall in my love, and too ambitious;
O how I burne! to pluck thee from the stalke,
Where now thou grow'st a sweet bud and a beauteous,
And bear'st the prime and honour of the Garden,
Is but to violate thy spring, and spoile thee.
Evan.
To let me blow, and fall alone would anger ye.
Val.
Let's sit together thus, and as we sit
Feed on the sweets of one anothers soules,
The happinesse of love is contemplation,
The blessednesse of love is pure affection,
Where no allay of actuall dull desire,
Of pleasure that partakes with wantonnesse,
Of humane fire that burnes out as it kindles,
And leaves the body but a poore repentance,
Can ever mix, let's sixe on that Evanthe,
That's everlasting, the tother casuall;
Eternity breeds one, the other Fortune,
Blinde as her selfe, and full of all afflictions.
Shall we love vertuously?
Evan.
I ever loved so.
Val.
And only think our love; the rarest pleasure,
And that we most desire, let it be humane,
If once injoyed growes stale, and cloyes our appetites;
I would not lessen in my love for any thing,
Nor finde thee but the same in my short journey,
For my loves safety.
Evan.
Now I see I am old Sir,
Old and ill-favour'd too, poore and despis'd,
And am not worth your noble Fellowship,
Your fellowship in Love, you would not else
Thus cunningly seeke to betray a maid,
A maid that honours you thus piously;
Strive to abuse the pious love she brings ye.
Farewell my Lord, since ye have a better Mistris,
For it must seeme so, or ye are no man,
A younger, happier, I shall give her roome,
So much I love ye still.
Val.
Stay my Evanthe,
Heaven beare me witnesse, thou art all I love,
All I desire, and now have pitty on me,
I never lyed before; forgive me Justice,
Youth and affection stop your eares unto me.
Evan.
Why do you weep? if I have spoke too harshly,
And unbeseeming my beloved Lord,
My care and duty, pardon me.
Val.
O heare me,
Heare me Evanthe; I am all on torture
And this lye tears my conscience as I vent it;
I am no man.
Evan.
How Sir?
Val.
No man for pleasure, no womans man,
Evan.
Goodnesse forbid my Lord, sure you abuse your selfe:
Val.
'Tis true Evanthe;
I shame to say you will finde it.
Weepes.
Evan.
He weepes bitterly,
'Tis my hard fortune, blesse all young maids from it;
58
Val.
I hope there is.
Evan.
How long have you been destitute?
Val.
Since I was young.
Evan.
'Tis hard to dye for nothing,
Now you shall know 'tis not the pleasure Sir,
(For I am compell'd to love you spiritually)
That women aime at I affect ye for,
'Tis for your worth; and kisse me, be at peace,
Because I ever loved ye I still honour'd ye,
And with all duty to my Husband follow ye;
Will ye to bed now? ye are asham'd it seemes;
Pigmalion prayed and his cold stone took life,
You do not know with what zeale I shall aske Sir,
And what rare miracle that may worke upon ye;
Still blush? prescribe your Law.
Val.
I prethee pardon me,
To bed, and ile sit by thee, and mourne with thee,
Mourne both our fortunes, our unhappy ones:
Do not despise me, make me not more wretched,
I pray to heaven when I am gone Evanthe,
As my poore date is but a span of time now,
To recompence thy noble patience,
Thy love and vertue with a fruitfull husband,
Honest and honourable.
Evan.
Come, you have made me weep now,
All fond desire dye here, and welcome chastity,
Honour and chastity, do what you please Sir.
Exeunt.
| A VVife for a Moneth | |