 | The Nice Valovr, or The Passionate Mad-man |  |
Actus Quartus.
Scæna prima.
Enter Shamonts Brother, the Souldier, and 1. Gent.Sold.
Yes, yes, this was a Madman, sir, with you,
A passionate Madman.
1. Gent.
Who would ha' lookt for this sir?
Sold.
And must be priviledg'd? a pox priviledge him:
I was never so dry beaten since I was borne,
And by a litter of rogues, meer rogues, the whole twenty
Had not above nine elbowes amongst 'em all too:
And the most part of those left-handed rascalls,
The very vomit, Sir, of hospitalls,
Bridewells, and Spittle-houses; such nasty smellers,
That if they'd been unfurnish'd of Club-Trunchions,
They might have cudgel'd me with their very stinks,
It was so strong, and sturdy: and shall this,
This filthy injurie, be set off with madnesse?
1 Gen.
Nay take your owne blouds councel sir, hereafter,
Ile deale no further in't: if you remember,
It was not come to blowes, when I advis'd you.
Sold.
No, but I ever said, 'twould come to something,
And 'tis upon me, thank him: were he kin
To all the mighty Emperours upon earth,
He has not now in life three houres to reckon;
I watch but a free time.
Enter Shamont.
1 Gen.
Your noble brother, sir, Ile leave you now.
Ex.
Sha.
Souldier I would I could perswade my thoughts
From thinking thee a brother, as I can
My tongue from naming on't: thou hast no friend here,
But fortune and thy owne strength, trust to them.
Sold.
How? what's the incitement, sir?
Sha.
Treacherie to vertue;
Thy treacherie, thy faithlesse circumvention:
Has Honour so few daughters, never fewer,
And must thou aime thy treacherie at the best?
The very front of vertue? that blest Lady? the Dukes sister?
Created more for admirations cause,
Then for loves ends; whose excellency sparkles
More in divinity, then mortall beauty;
And as much difference 'twixt her minde and bodie,
As 'twixt this earths poore center and the Sun:
And couldst thou be so injurious to faire goodnesse,
Once to attempt to court her down to frailty?
Or put her but in minde that there is weaknesse,
Sin, and desire, which she should never heare of?
Wretch, thou'st committed worse then Sacrilege,
In the attempting on't, and oughtst to dye for't.
Sold.
I rather ought to doe my best, to live, sir;
Provoke me not; for I've a wrong sits on me,
That makes me apt for mischiefe; I shall lose
All respects suddainly of friendship, Brother-hood,
Or any sound that way.
Sham.
But 'ware me most;
For I come with a two-edg'd injurie;
Both my disgrace, and thy apparent falshood,
Which must be dangerous.
Sold.
I courted her, sir:
Love starve me with delayes when I confesse it not.
Sham.
There's nothing then but death
Can be a pennance fit for that confession.
Sold.
But farre from any vitious taint.
Sham.
O sir,
Vice is a mighty stranger growne to courtship.
Sold.
Nay then the fury of my wrong light on thee.
Enter 1. Gentleman, and others.
1 Gen.
Forbeare, the Duke's at hand,
Here, hard at hand, upon my reputation.
Sold.
I must doe something now.
Ex. Sold.
Sham.
Ile follow you close sir.
1 Gen.
We must entreat you must not; for the Duke
Desires some conference with you.
Sh.
Let me goe,
As y'are gentlemen.
2 Gent.
Faith we dare not sir.
Sham.
Dare ye be false to honour, and yet dare not
Doe a man justice? give me leave—
1 Gent.
Good sweet sir.
H'as sent twice for you.
Sham.
Is this brave, or manly?
1 Gent.
I prethee be conform'd.
Sham.
Death—
Enter Duke.
2 Gent.
Peace, hee's come introth.
Sham.
Oh have you betraid me to my shame afresh?
How am I bound to loath you?
Duk.
Shamont, welcome,
I sent twice.
2 Gent.
But my Lord, he never heard on't.
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Pray pardon him, for his falsenesse, I did Sir,
Both times; I'de rather be found rude then faithlesse.
Du.
I love that bluntnesse dearely: ha's no vice.
But is more manly then some others vertue,
That less it out onely for shew or profit.
Sham.
Wil't please you quit me sir, I've urgent busines?
Du.
Come, you'r so hasty now: I sent for you
To a better end.
Sham.
And if it be an end,
Better or worse, I thank your goodnesse for't.
Du.
I've ever kept that bounty in condition,
And thankfulnesse in bloud, which well becomes
Both Prince and Subject, that where any wrong
Beares my impression, or the hasty figure
Of my repented anger, I'me a Law
Ev'n to my selfe, and doome my selfe most strictly
To Justice, and a noble satisfaction:
So that, what you in tendernesse of honour,
Conceive to be losse to you, which is nothing
But curious opinion, Ile restore agen,
Although I give you the best part of Genoa,
And take to boot but thanks for your amends.
Sham.
O miserable satisfaction,
Ten times more wretched then the wrong it selfe;
Never was ill better made good with worse:
Shall it be said that my posterity
Shall live the sole heires of their fathers shame?
And raise their wealth and glorie from my stripes?
You have provided nobly bounteous sir,
For my disgrace, to make it live for ever,
Out-lasting Brasse or Marble:
This is my feares construction, and a deep one,
Which neither argument nor time can alter:
Yet I durst sweare, I wrong your goodnesse in't sir,
And the most faire intent on't, which I reverence
With admiration, that in you a Prince,
Should be so sweet, and temperate a condition,
To offer to restore where you may ruine,
And do't with justice, and in me a servant,
So harsh a disposition, that I cannot
Forgive where I should honor, and am bound to't.
But I have ever had that curiosity
In bloud, and tenderness of reputation,
Such an antipathy against a blow,
I cannot speak the rest: Good sir discharge me,
It is not fit that I should serve you more,
Nor come so neare you; I'me made now for privacy,
And a retir'd condition, that's my suit,
To part from Court for ever, my last suit.
And as you professe bounty, grant me that, Sir.
Du.
I would deny thee nothing.
Sham.
Health reward you, sir.
Exit.
Du.
He's gone agen already, and takes hold
Of any opportunity, not riches
Can purchase him, nor honours, peaceably,
And force were brutish: what a great worth's gone with him,
And but a gentleman? well, for his sake,
Ile nere offend more those I cannot make:
They were his words, and shall be deare to memorie.
Say I desire to see him once agen;
Yet stay, hee's so well forward of his peace,
'Twere pitty to disturbe him: he would groane
Like a soule fetch'd agen; and that were injurie,
And I've wrong'd his degree too much already.
Call forth the gentlemen of our chamber instantly.
1 Serv.
I shall my Lord.
Within.
Du.
I may forget agen,
And therefore will prevent: The strain of this
Troubles me so, one would not hazard more.
Enter 1. Gent. and divers other.
Gent.
Your will my Lord?
Du.
Yes; I discharge you all.
2 Gent.
My Lord—
Du.
Your places shall be otherwise dispos'd of.
4 Gent.
Why sir?
Du.
Reply not, I dismisse you all:
Y'are gentlemen, your worths will find you fortunes;
Nor shall your farewell taxe me of ingratitude,
Ile give you all noble remembrances,
As testimonies 'gainst reproach and malice,
That you departed lov'd.
3 Gen.
This is most strange, sir.
1 Gen.
But how is your grace furnish'd, these dismis'd?
Du.
Seek me out Grooms.
Men more insensible of reputation,
Lesse curious and precise in termes of honour,
That if my anger chance let fall a stroak,
As we are all subject to impetuous passions,
Yet it may passe unmurmur'd, undisputed,
And not with braver fury prosecuted.
Exit.
1 Gen.
It shal be done, my Lord.
3 Gen.
Know you the cause sir?
1 Gen.
Not I kinde gentlemen, but by conjectures,
And so much shall be yours, when you please.
4.
Thanks sir.
3 Gen.
VVe shal ith' mean time think our selves guilty
Of some foule fault, through ignorance committed.
1 Gen.
No, 'tis not that, nor that way.
4 Gen.
For my part,
I shall be dis-inherited, I know so much.
1 Gen.
Why sir, for what?
4 Gen.
My sire's of a strange humour,
Hee'll forme faults for me, and then sweare 'em mine,
And commonly the first begins with leacherie.
He knowes his owne youthes trespasse.
1 Gen.
Before you goe,
Ile come and take my leave, and tell you all sirs.
3 Gen.
Thou wer't ever just and kinde.
Exit.
1 Gen.
That's my poore vertue sir,
And parcell valiant; but it's hard to be perfect:
The chusing of these fellowes now will puzzle me,
Horribly puzzle me; and there's no judgement
Goes true upon mans out-side, there's the mischiefe:
He must be touch'd, and try'd, for gold or drosse;
There is no other way for't, and that's dangerous too;
But since I'me put in trust, I will attempt it:
The Duke shal keep one daring man about him:
Enter a Gallant
Soft, who comes here? a pretty bravery this:
Every one goes so like a gentleman,
'Tis hard to finde a difference, but by th'touch.
Ile trie your mettall sure.
Gal.
Why what doe you meane sir?
1 Gen.
Nay, and you understand it not, I doe not.
Gal.
Yes, would you should well know,
I understand it for a box o'th' eare Sir.
1 Gent.
And o' my troth, that's all I gave it for.
Gal.
'Twere best it be so.
1 Gen.
This is a brave Coward,
A jolly threatning Coward; he shall be Captaine:
Sir, let me meet you an houre hence i'th' Lobby.
Gal.
Meet you? the world might laugh at me then i'faith.
1 Ge.
Lay by your scorn & pride, they're scurvy qualities,
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And carrie you gambril'd thither like a Mutton.
Gal.
Nay, and you be in earnest, here's my hand
I will not faile you.
1 Gen.
'Tis for your owne good.
Gal.
Away.
1 Gent.
Too much for your own good, sir, a pox on you.
Gal.
I prethee curse me all day long so.
1 Gen.
Hang you.
Gal:
Ile make him mad; hee's loth to curse too much to me;
Indeed I never yet took box oth' eare,
But it redounded, I must needs say so—
1 Gent.
Will you be gone?
Gal.
Curse, curse, and then I goe.
Look how he grins, I've anger'd him toth' kidnyes.
Ex.
1 Gen.
Was ever such a prigging coxcombe seen?
One might have beat him dumbe now in this humour,
And hee'd ha' grind it out still:
Enter a plain fellow.
O here's one made to my hand,
Methinks looks like a Craven;
Lesse paines will serve his triall: some slight justle.
Pl. f.
How? take you that sir:
And if that content you not—
1 Gen.
Yes very well sir, I desire no more.
Pl. f.
I think you need not;
For you have not lost by't.
Exit.
1 Gen.
Who would ha' thought this would have prov'd a gentleman?
Ile never trust long chins and little legs agen,
Ile know 'em sure for gentlemen hereafter:
A gristle but in shew, but gave his cuffe
With such a fetch, and reach of gentrie,
As if h'had had his armes before the floud;
I have took a villanous hard taske upon me;
Now I begin to have a feeling on't.
Enter Lapet, and Clowne his servant, and so habited.
O here comes a tri'd piece, now, the reformed kick.
The millions of punches, spurnes, and nips
That he has endur'd? his Buttock's all black Lead,
He's halfe a Negro back-ward; he was past a Spaniard
In eighty eight, and more Egyptian-like;
His Table and his Book come both out shortly,
And all the Cowards in the Towne expect it;
So, if I faile of my full number now,
I shall be sure to finde 'em at Church corners,
Where Dives, and the suff'ring Ballads hang.
Lap.
Well, since thou art of so milde a temper,
Of so meek a spirit, thou maist live with me,
Till better times doe smile on thy deserts.
I am glad I am got home againe.
Clow.
I am happy in your service, sir,
You'll keep me from the Hospitall.
Lap.
So, bring me the last proofe, this is corrected.
Clow.
I, y'are too full of your correction, sir.
Lap.
Look I have perfect Books within this half houre.
Clow.
Yes sir.
Lap.
Bid him put all the Thumps in Pica Roman,
And with great Tees, (you vermin) as Thumps should be.
Clow.
Then in what Letter will you have your Kicks?
Lap.
All in Italica, your Backward blowes
All in Italica, you Hermophrodite:
When shall I teach you wit?
Clow.
O let it alone,
Till you have some your selfe su.
Lap.
You mumble?
Clow.
The Victualls are lockt up;
I'me kept from mumbling.
Exit.
Lap.
He prints my Blows upon pot-paper too, the rogue,
Which had been proper for some drunken Pamphlet.
1 Gen.
Monsieur Lapet? how the world rings of you su?
Your name sounds far and neare.
Lap.
A good report it beares, for an enduring name—
1 Gen.
What luck have you sir?
Lap.
Why, what's the matter?
1 Gent.
I'me but thinking on't.
I've heard you wish this five yeare for a place.
Now there's one fall'n, and freely without money too;
And empty yet, and yet you cannot hav't.
Lap.
No? what's the reason? Ile give money for't,
Rather then goe without sir.
1 Gen.
That's not it, sir;
The troth is, there's no gentleman must have it
Either for love or money: 'tis decreed so;
I was heartily sorrie when I thought upon you.
Had you not been a gentleman I had fitted you.
Lap.
Who I a gentleman? a pox I'me none, sir.
1 Gen.
How?
Lap.
How? why did you ever think I was?
1 Gen.
What? not a gentleman?
Lap.
I would thou'dst put it upon me i'faith.
Did not my Grand-father cry Coney-skins?
My father Aquavitæ? a hot gentleman:
All this I speak on i' your time and memorie too;
Onely a rich Unckle dy'd and left me chattells,
You know all this so well too—
1 Gen.
Pray excuse me, sir, ha' not you Armes?
Lap.
Yes, a poore couple here.
That serve to thrust in wild-fowle.
1 Gen.
Heralds Armes,
Symbols of gentrie, sir: you know my meaning;
They've been shewn and seen.
Lap.
They have.
1 Gen.
I fex have they.
Lap.
Why I confesse, at my wives instigation once,
(As women love these Heralds kickshawes naturally)
I bought 'em: but what are they think you? puffs.
1 Gen.
Why, that's proper to your name being Lapet.
Which is La fart, after the english letter.
Lap.
The Herald, sir, had much a doe to finde it.
1 Gen.
And can you blame him?
Why 'tis the onely thing that puzzles the devill.
Lap.
At last he lookt upon my name agen,
And having well compar'd it, this he gave me,
The two Cholliques playing upon a winde instrument.
1 Gen.
An excellent proper one: but I pray tell me,
How does he expresse the Cholliques?
They are hard things.
Lap.
The Cholliques? with hot trenchers at their bellies,
There's nothing better, Sir, to blaze a Chollique.
1 Gen.
And are not you a gentleman by this sir?
Lap.
No, I disclaime't: no belly-ake upon earth
Shall make me one: he shall not think
To put his gripes upon me,
And wring out gentrie so, and ten pound first.
If the winde instrument will make my wife one,
Let her enjoy't, for she was a Harpers Grand-childe:
But sir, for my particular, I renounce it.
1 Gen.
Or to be call'd so?
Lap.
I sir, or imagin'd.
1 Gen.
None fitter for the place: give me thy hand.
Lap.
A hundred thousand thanks, beside a Bribe sir.
1 Gen.
You must take heed
Of thinking toward a gentleman, now.
161
Pish, I am not mad, I warrant you: nay more sir,
If one should twit me i'th' teeth that I'me a gentleman,
Twit me their worst, I am but one since Lammas,
That I can prove, if they would see my heart out.
1 Gen.
Marry in any case keep me that evidence.
Enter Clowne.
Lap.
Here comes my servant, Sir, Galoshio,
Has not his name for nought, he will be trod upon:
What sayes my Printer now?
Clow.
Heres your last proof Sir.
You shal have perfect Books now in a twinkling.
Lap.
These marks are ugly.
Clow.
He sayes, sir, they're proper:
Blows should have marks, or else they are nothing worth.
La.
But why a Peel-crow here?
Clow.
I told 'em so sir:
A Scar-crow had been better.
Lap.
How Slave? looke you Sir,
Did not I say, this Whirrit, and this Bob,
Should be both Pica Roman.
Clow.
So said I Sir, both Picked Romans,
And he has made 'em Welch Bills,
Indeed I know not what to make on 'em.
Lap.
Hay-day; a Souse, Italica?
Clow.
Yes, that may hold Sir,
Souse is a bonaroba, so is Flops too.
Lap.
But why stands Bastinado so farre off here?
Clo.
Alas you must allow him room to lay about him, sir.
La.
Why lyes this Spurne lower then that Spurn, sir?
Clow.
Marry this signifies one kickt downe staires, sir,
The other in a Gallerie: I ask'd him all these questions.
1 Gen.
Your Books name?
Prethee Lapet minde me, you never told me yet.
La.
Marrie but shall sir: 'tis call'd The up-rising of the kick,
And the downfall of the Duello.
1 Gen.
Bring that to passe you'll prove a happy member,
And doe your Countrey service: your young blouds
Will thank you then, when they see foure-score.
Lap.
I hope
To save my hundred Gentlemen a month by't,
Which will be very good for the private house.
Clow.
Look you, your Table's finish'd sir already.
Lap.
Why then behold my Master-piece: see, see, sir,
Here's all your Blowes, and Blow-men whatsoever,
Set in their lively colours, givers, and takers.
1 Gen.
Troth wondrous fine, sir.
Lap.
Nay, but mark the postures,
The standing of the takers I admire more then the givers,
They stand scornfully, most contumeliously, I like not thē
Oh here's one cast into a comely figure.
Clow.
My Master meanes him there that's cast downe headlong.
Lap.
How sweetly does this fellow take his Dowst?
Stoops like a Cammell, that Heroick beast,
At a great load of Nut-megs; and how meekly
This other fellow here receives his Whirrit?
Clow.
Oh Master here's a fellow stands most gallantly,
Taking his kick in private behinde the hangings,
And raising up his hips to't. But oh, sir,
How daintily this man lies trampled on?
Would I were in thy place, what e're thou art:
How lovely he endures it?
1 Gen.
But will not these things, sir, be hard to practise, think you?
Lap.
Oh, easie, sir: Ile teach 'em in a Dance.
1 Gent.
How? in a dance?
Lap.
Ile lose my new place else,
What ere it be; I know not what 'tis yet.
1 Gen.
And now you put me in minde, I could employ it well,
For your grace, specially: For the Dukes cozen
Is by this time in's violent fit of mirth,
And a devise must be sought out for suddainly,
To over-cloy the passion.
Lap.
Say no more, sir,
Ile fit you with my Schollers, new practitioners,
Endurers of the time.
Clow.
Whereof I am one sir.
1 Gen.
You carry it away smooth; give me thy hand, sir.
Exeunt.
| The Nice Valovr, or The Passionate Mad-man | |