University of Virginia Library

Actus tertius.

Scena prima.

Enter Champernell, Lamira, Beaupre, Verdoone, Chailote.
Beaup.
We'll venture on him.

Cham.
Out of my dores I charge thee, see me no more.

Lam.
Your Nephew?

Cham.
I disclaime him.
He has no part in me, nor in my blood,
My Brother that kept fortune bound, and left
Conquest hereditary to his Issue
Could not beget a coward.

Verd.
I fought, sir,
Like a good fellow, and a souldier too,
But men are men, and cannot make their fates:
Ascribe you to my Father, what you please,
I am borne to suffer.

Cham.
All disgrace: wretch.

Lam.
Good sir be patient.

Cham.
Was there no tree,
(For to fall by a noble enemies sword,
A Coward is unworthy) nor no River,
To force thy life out backward, or to drowne it,
But that thou must survive thy infamie?
And kill me, with the sight of one I hate?
And gladly would forget?

Beaup.
Sir, his misfortune
Deserves not this reproofe.

Cham.
In your opinion,
'Tis fit you two should be of one beliefe,
You are indeed, fine gallants, and fight bravely
I'th' City with your tongues, but in the field
Have neither spirit to dare, nor power to doe,
Your swords, are all ledd there.

Beaup.
I know no duty,
(How ever you may wreake your spleene on him)
That bindes me to endure this.

Cham.
From Dinant
You'll suffer more; that ever cursed I,
Should give my honour up, to the defence
Of such a thing as he is, or my Lady
That is all Innocent, for whom a dove would
Assume the courage of a daring Eagle,
Repose her confidence in one that can
No better guard her. In contempt of you
I love Dinant, mine enemy, nay admire him,
His valour claimes it from me, and with justice,
He that could fight thus, in a cause not honest,
His sword edg'd with defence, of right and honour,
Would pierce as deep as lightning, with that speed too,
And kill as deadly.

Verd.
You are as far from Justice,
In him you praise, as equitie in the censure,
You load me with.

Beaup.
Dinant? he durst not meet us.

Lam.
How? durst not brother?

Beaup.
Durst not, I repeat it;

Verdo.
Nor was it Cleremont's valour that disarm'd us,
I had the better of him; for Dinant,
If that might make my peace with you, I dare
Write him a Coward, upon every post,
And with the hazard of my life defend it.

Lam.
If 'twere laied at the stake, you'd loose it, Nephew,

Cham.
Came he not, say you?

Verd.
No, but in his roome,
There was a divell, hir'd from some Magician
I'th' shape of an Atturney.

Beau.
'Twas he did it.

Verd.
And his the honour.

Beau.
I could wish Dinant
But what talke I of one that stept aside,
And durst not come?

Lam.
I am such a friend to truth,
I cannot heare this: why doe you detract
Thus poorely (I should say to others basely)
From one, of such approv'd worth?

Cham.
Ha! how's this?

Lam.
From one so excellent, in all that's noble,
Whose onely weaknesse, is excesse of courage?
That knowes no enemies, that he cannot master,
But his affections, and in them, the worst
His love to me.

Cham.
To you?

Lam.
Yes, sir to me,
I dare (for what is that, which Innocence dares not)
To you professe it, and he shun'd the Combat
For feare, or doubt of these: blush and repent,
That you in thought, ere did that wrong to valour.

Beau.
Why, this is rare.

Cham.
'Fore heaven, exceeding rare;
Why modest Lady, you that sing such Encomiums
Of your first Suiter—

Verd.
How can ye convince us
In our reports?

Lam.
VVith what you cannot answer,
'Twas my command that staied him.

Cham.
Your command?

Lam.
Mine, sir, and had my will rank'd with my power,
And his obedience, I could have sent him
VVith more ease, weaponlesse to you, and bound,
Then have kept him back, so well he loves his honour
Beyond his life.

Cham.
Better, and better still,

Lam.
I wrought with him in private to divert him
From your assur'd destruction, had he met you.

Cham.
In private?

Lam.
Yes, and us'd all Arts, all Charmes,

61

Of one that knew her selfe the absolute Mistris
Of all his faculties.

Cham.
Gave all rewards too
His service could deserve; did not he take
The measure of my sheets?

Lam.
Doe not looke yellow,
I have cause to speake; frownes cannot fright me,
By all my hopes, as I am spotlesse to you,
If I rest once assur'd, you doe but doubt me,
Or curbe me of that freedome, you once gave me—

Cham.
VVhat then?

Lam.
I'll not alone, abuse your bed, that's nothing,
But to your more vexation, 'tis resov'd on,
I'll run away, and then try if Dinant
Have courage to defend me.

Champ.
Impudent!

Verdo.
And on the sudden—

Beau.
How are ye transform'd,
From what you were?

Lam.
I was an innocent Virgin,
And I can truly sweare, a Wife as pure
As ever lay by Husband, and will dy so,
Let me live unsuspected, I am no servant,
Nor will be us'd like one: If you desire
To keep me constant, as I would be, let
Trust and beliefe in you, beget, and nurse it;
Unnecessary jealousies, make more whores
Then all baites els, laied to entrap our frailties.

Beau.
There's no contesting with her, from a child
Once mov'd, she hardly was to be appeas'd,
Yet I dare sweare her honest.

Cham.
So I thinke too,
On better judgement: I am no Italian
To lock her up; nor would I be a Dutchman,
To have my Wife, my soveraigne, to command me:
I'll try the gentler way, but if that faile,
Believe it, Sir, there's nothing but extreames,
VVhich she must feele from me.

Beau.
That, as you please sir.

Charl.
You have won the breeches, Madam, looke up sweetly,
My Lord limpes toward you.

Lam.
You will learne more manners.

Charl.
This is a fee, for counsell that's unask'd for.

Cham.
Come, I mistook thee sweet, prethee forgive me,
I never will be jealous: ere I cherish
Such a mechanick humour; I'll be nothing;
I'll say Dinant, is all that thou wouldst have him,
VVill that suffice?

Lam.
'Tis well, sir.

Champ.
Use thy freedome
Uncheck'd, and unobserv'd, if thou wilt have it,
These shall forget their honour, I my wrongs
We'll all dote on him, hell be my reward
If I dissemble.

Lam.
And that hell take me
If I affect him, he's a lustfull villaine,
(But yet no coward) and sollicites me
To my dishonour, that's indeed a quarrell,
And truly mine, which I will so revenge,
As it shall fright, such as dare onely thinke
To be adulterers.

Cham.
Use thine owne waies,
I give up all to thee.

Beau.
O women, women!
When you are pleas'd you are the least of evils.

Verd.
I'll rime to't, but provokt, the worst of divells.

Exeunt.
Enter Monsier Sampson, and three Clients.
Samp.
I know Monsier La-writ.

1 Cly.
VVould he knew himselfe, Sir.

Samp.
He was a pretty Lawyer, a kind of pretty Lawyer.
Of a kind, of unable thing.

2 Cly.
A fine Lawyer, Sir,
And would have firk'd you up a businesse,
And out of this Court into that.

Samp.
Ye are too forward,
Not so fine my friends, something he could have done,
But short, short.

1 Cly.
I know your worships favour,
You are Nephew to the Judge, Sir.

Samp.
It may be so,
And something may be done, without trotting i'th' durt, friends;
It may be I can take him in his Chamber,
And have an houres talke, it may be so,
And tell him that in's eare, there are such courtesies:
I will not say, I can.

3 Cly.
VVe know you can, sir.

Sam.
Peradventure I, peradventure no: but where's Lawrit?
VVhere's your sufficient Lawyer?

1 Cly.
He's blowne up, Sir.

2 Cly.
Run mad, and quarrells, with the dog he meets;
He is no Lawyer, of this world now.

Samp.
Your reason?
Is he defunct? is he dead?

2 Cly.
No, he's not dead yet, sir;
But I would be loth to take a lease on's life for two houres:
Alas, he is possest sir, with the spirit of fighting,
And quarrells with all people; but how he came to it—

Samp.
If he fight well, and like a Gentleman,
The man may fight, for 'tis a lawfull calling.
Looke you my friends, I am a civill Gentleman,
And my Lord my Uncle loves me.

3 Cly.
We all know it, sir.

Sam.
I thinke he does, sir, I have business too, much businesse,
Turn you some forty or fifty Causes in a weeke;
Yet when I get an houre of vacancie,
I can fight too my friends, a little does well,
I would be loth to learne to fight.

1 Cly.
But and't please you, sir,
His fighting has neglected all our businesse,
We are undone, our causes cast away, sir,
His not appearance.

Sam.
There he fought too long
A little, & fight well, he fought too long indeed friends;
But ne'r the lesse, things must be, as they may,
And there be wayes—

1 Cly.
We know, sir, if you please—

Sam.
Something I'll doe; goe rally up your Causes.

Enter La-writ, and a Gentleman at the dore.
2 Cly.
Now you may behold sir,
And be a witnesse, whether we lie or no.

La-writ.
I'll meet you at the Ordinary, sweet Gentlemen,
And if there be a wench or two—

Gent.
We'll have 'em,

La-wr.
No handling any Duells before I come,
We'll have no going lesse, I hate a coward.

Gent.
There shall be nothing done.

La-wr.
Make all the quarrells
You can devise before I come, and let's all fight,
There is no sport els.

Gent.
We'll see what may be done, sir,

1 Cly.
Ha? Monsier La-writ?


50

La-Wr.
Baffled in way of businesse,
My causes cast away, Judgement against us?
Why there it goes

2 Cli.
What shall we do the whilst Sir?

La-Wr.
Breed new dissentions, goe hang your selves
'Tis all one to me; I have a new trade of living.

1 Cli.
Doe you heare what he saies Sir?

Sam.
The Gentleman, speakes finely

La-Wr.
Will any of you fight? Fightings my occupation
If you find your selves agreev'd;

Sam.
A compleate Gentleman.

La-Wr.
Avant thou buckrum budget of petitions,
Thou spittle of lame causes; I lament for thee,
And till revenge be taken—

Sam.
'Tis most excellent.

La-Wr.
There every man chuse his paper, and his place.
I'll answer ye all, I will neglect no mans busines
But he shall have satisfaction like a Gentleman,
The Judge may doe and not doe, hee's but a Monsieur

Sam.
You have nothing of mine in your bag, Sir,

La-Wr.
I know not Sir,
But you may put any thing in, any fighting thing

Sam.
It is sufficient, you may heare hereafter.

La-Wr.
I rest your servant Sir.

Sam.
No more words Gentlemen
But follow me, no more words as you love me,
The Gentlemans, a noble Gentleman.
I shall doe what I can, and then—

Cli.
We thanke you Sir.

Exit Sam. and Clients.
Sam.
Not a word to disturb him, hee's a Gentleman.

La-Wr.
No cause goe? o my side the judge cast all?
And because I was honourably employed in action,
And not appear'd, pronounce? 'tis very well,
'Tis well faith, 'tis well, Judge.

Enter Cleremont.
Cler.
Who have we here?
My little furious Lawyer?

La-Wr.
I say 'tis well,
But marke the end.

Cler.
How he is metamorphis'd?
Nothing of Lawyer left not a bit of buckrum,
No solliciting face now,
This is no simple conversion
Your servant Sir, and Friend.

La-Wr.
You come in time, Sir,

Cler.
The happier man, to be at your command then.

La-Wr.
You may wonder to see me thus; but that's all one
Time shall declare; 'tis true I was a Lawyer,
But I have mend that coat, I hate a Lawyer,
I talk'd much in the Court, now I hate talking
I did you the office of a man.

Cler.
I must confesse it.

La-wr.
And budg'd not, no I budg'd not

Cler.
No, ye did not,

La-wr.
Ther's it then, one good turne requires another

Cler.
Most willing Sir, I am ready at your service

La-wr.
There read and understand, & then deliver it

Cler.
This is a challenge Sir,

La-wr.
'Tis very like Sir,
I seldome now write Sonnets

Cler.
O admirantis,
To Monsieur Vertaigne the president,

La-wr.
I choose no foole sir,

Cler.
Why hee's no sword man Sir,

La-wr.
Let him learne, let him learne,
Time that traines Chickens up, will teach him quickly

Cler.
Why hee's a Judge, an old man.

La-wr.
Never too old.
To be a Gentleman; and he that is a judge
Can judge best what belongs to wounded honour;
There are my griefes he has cast away my causes,
In which he has bowed my reputation.
And therefore Judge, or no Judge,

Cler.
Pray be rul'd Sir,
This is the maddest thing—

La-wr.
You will not carry it,

Cler.
I doe not tell you so, but if you may be perswaded

La-wr.
You know how you us'd me, when I would not fight,
Doe you remember Gentleman?

Cler.
The Divells in him.

La-wr.
I see it in your eyes, that you dare it
You have a carrying face, and you shall carry it,

Cler.
The least is banishment

La-wr.
Be banish'd then;
'Tis a friends part, wee'll meete in Africa,
Or any corner of the earth.

Cler.
Say he will not fight,

La-wr.
I know then what to say take you no care Sir,

Cler.
Well, I will carry it, and deliver it,
And to morrow morning meere you in the louer,
Till when, my service,

La-Wr.
A Judge, or no Judge, no Judge.
Exit La-wr.

Cler.
This is the prettiest Rogue that 'ere I read of,
None to provoke to th'field, but the old president;
What face shall I put on? if I come in earnest,
I am sure to weare a paire of braceletts;
This may make some sport yet, I will deliver it
Here comes the president.

Enter Vertaigne with two Gentlemen.
Vert.
I shall find time Gentlemen,
To doe your causes good, is not that Cleremont.

1 Gent.
'Tis he my Lord?

Vert.
Why does he smile upon me?
Am I become ridiculous? has your fortune Sir
Upon my son made you contemne his Father?
The glory of a Gentleman, is faire bearing.

Cler.
Mistake me not my Lord, you shall not find that;
I come with no blowen spirit to abuse you,
I know your place, and honour due unto it,
The reverence to your silver age and vertue,

Vert.
Your face is merry still.

Cler.
So is my businesse,
And I beseech your honour, mistake me not
I have brought you from a wild, or rather mad man
As mad a peice—of you were wont to love mirth,
In your young dayes, I have knowne your honour wo it
This may be made no little one, 'tis a challenge Sir,
Nay start not I beseech you, it meanes you no harme
Nor any man of honour, or understanding
'Tis to steale from your serious houres a little laughters
I am bold to bring it to your Lordship,

Vert.
'Tis to me indeed.
Doe they take me for a sword man, at these yeares?

Cler.
'Tis onely worth your honours mirth thats all Sir,
'Tad bin in me else a sawcie rudenesse.

Vert.
From one La-Writ, a very punctuall challenge,

Cler.
But if your Lordship marke it, no great matter

Vert.
I have knowne such a wrangling advocate,
Such a little figent thiing; Oh I remember him,
A notable talking knave, now out upon him,
Has challeng'd me downe right, defied me mortally
I doe remember too, I cast his causes


63

Cler.
Why ther's the quarrell Sir, the mortall quarrell

Vert.
Why what a knave is this? as y'are? Gentleman
Is there no further purpose but meere mirth?
What a bold man of warre, he invites me roundly

Cler.
If there should be, I were no Gentleman.
Nor worthy of the honour of my kindred,
And though I am sure your Lordship hate my person,
Which time may bring againe into your favour,
Yet for my manners—

Vert.
I am satisfied,
You see Sir, I have out liv'd those daies of fighting,
And therefore cannot do him the honour to beate him myselfe
But I have a kinsman, much of his abilitie
His wit and carriage, for this calls him foole,
One that will spit as senselesse fire, as this fellow

Cler.
And such a man to undertake, my Lord,

Verta.
Nay hees too forward, these two pitch barrells together

Cler.
Upon my soule no harme.

Vert.
It makes me smile,
Why what a stinking smother will they utter?
Yes he shall undertake Sir, as my Champion,
Since you propound it mirth, i'll venture on it
And shall defend my cause, but as y'ar honest
Sport not with blood.

Cler.
Thinke not so basely, good Sir,

Vert.
A squire shall waite upon you from my kinsman,
To morrow morning, make your sport at full,
You want no subject, but no wounds.

Cler.
That's my care

Vert.
And so good day.

Exit Vertaine and Gentlemen.
Cler.
Many unto your honour,
This is a noble fellow of a sweet spirit,
Now must I thinke how to contrive this matter,
For together they shall goe.

Enter Dinant.
Din.
O Cleremont
I am glad I have found thee,

Cler.
I can tell thee rare things,

Din.
O I can tell thee rarer,
Dost thou love me?

Cler.
Love thee?

Din.
Doest thou love me dearely
Dar'st thou for my sake?

Cler.
Any thing that's honest

Din.
Though it be dangerous

Cler.
Pox o dangerous

Din.
Nay wonderous dangerous.

Cler.
Wilt thou breake my hearte?

Din.
Along with me then.

Cler.
I must part to morrow.

Din.
You shall, you shall, be faithfull for this night
And thou hast made thy freind.

Cler.
Away and talke not

Exeunt.
Enter Lamira and Nurse.
Lam.
O Nurse welcome, where's Dinant?

Nurse.
Hee is at my back
'Tis the most liberall Gentleman, this gold,
He gave me for my paines, nor can I blame you,
If you yeild up the for't

Lam.
How? yeild it up?

Nurse.
I know not, he that loves, and gives so largely,
And a young Lord to boote, or I am cousend
May enter every where.

Lam.
Thou't make me angry.

Enter Dinant and Cleremont.
Nurse.
Why if you are I hope heres on will please you,
Looke on him with my eyes, good luck goe with you
Were I young for your sake.—

Din.
I thanke thee Nurse,

Nurse.
I would be tractable, and as I am—

Lam.
Leave the roome,
So old, and so immodest? and be carefull,
Since whispers will make sleeping jealousies.
That none disturb my Lord.

Exit Nurse.
Cler.
Will you dispatch?
Till you come to the matter be not rapt thus,
Walk in, walk in, I am your scout for once,
You owe me the like service,

Din.
And will pay it,

Lam.
As you respect our lives, speake not so loud

Cler.
Why, to it in dumb shew then, I am silenc'd

Lam.
Be not so hasty Sir, the golden apples,
Had a fell dragon for their guard, your pleasures
Are to be attempted with Herculean danger,
Or never to be gotten

Din.
Speake the meanes,

Lam.
Thus briefely my Lord sleepes now, and alas,
Each night he only sleepes.

Cler.
Goe keepe her stirring,

Lam.
Now if he wake, as sometimes he does,
He only stretches out his hand and feeles,
Whether I am a bed, which being assur'd of
He sleepes againe; But should he misse me, valour
Could not defend our lives,

Din.
Wha'ts to be done then?

Lam.
Servants have servile Faiths, nor have I any
That I dare trust; on noble Cleremont
We safely may rely

Cler.
What man can doe,
Command and boldly,

Lam.
Thus then in my place,
You must lye with my Lord,

Cler.
With an old man?
Two beards together? that's prepostrous.

Lam.
There is no other way, and though 'tis dangerous
He having servants within call; and arm'd too,
Slaves feed to act, all that his jealousy,
And rage commands them, yet a true friend should not
Checke at the hazard of a life,

Cler.
I thanke you,
I love my friend, but know no reason why
To hate my self, to be a kind of pander,
You see I am willing,
But to betray mine owne throat you must pardon,

Din.
Then I am lost, and all my hopes defeated
Were I to hazard ten times more for you,
You should find, Cleremont

Cler.
You shall not out doe me,
Fall what may fall, i'll do't

Din.
But for his beard—

Lam.
To cover that you shall have my night Linnen,
And you dispos'd of, my Dinant and I,
Will have some private conference.

Enter Champ. privately.
Cler.
Private doing,
Or i'll not venture,

Lam.
That's as we agree.

Exeunt.
Enter Nurse and Charloth, pass 'ore the stage with pillowes night Cloaths and such things.
Cham.
What can this Woman do, preserving her honour?
I have given her all the liberty that may be
I will not be far off though; nor I will not be jealous
Nor trust too much, I think she is vertuous,

64

Yet when I hold her best, she's but a woman,
As full of frailty as of Faith, a poore sleight woman,
And her best thoughts, but weake fortifications,
There may be a meane wrought. Well, let 'em work then,
I shall meet with it: till the signes be monstrous,
And stick upon my head, I will not believe it,
Stands private.
She may be & she may not: now to my observation.

Enter Dinant, and Lamira.
Din.
VVhy do you make me stay so? if you love me—

Lam.
You are too hot, and violent.

Din.
Why doe you shift thus
From one chamber to another?

Lam.
A little delay, sir,
Like fire, a little sprinckled ore with water,
Makes the desires burne cleare, and ten times hotter.

Din.
Why doe you speake so lowd? I pray'e goe in
Sweet Mistris I am mad, time steales away,
And when we would enjoy—

Lam.
Now fy, fy servant,
Wine.
Like sensuall beasts, shall we enjoy our pleasures?

Din.
Pray doe but kisse me then.

Lam.
Why, that I will, and you shall find anon, servant.

Di.
Softly for heavens sake, you know my friend's engag'd,
A little now, now; Will you goe in againe?

Lam.
Ha, ha, ha, ha.

Din.
Why doe you laugh so lowd? pretious,
Will you betray me? ha my friends throat cut?

Lam.
Come, come, I'le kisse thee again.

Cham.
Will you so? you are liberall,
If you doe cozen me—

Enter Nurse with Wine.
Din.
What's this?

Lam.
Wine, wine, a draught or two.

Din.
What does this woman here?

Lam.
She shall not hinder you.

Din.
This might have bin spar'd,
'Tis but delay, and time lost: pray send her softly off.

Lam.
Sit downe, and mix your spirits with VVine,
I will make you another Hercules.

Din.
I dare not drinke;
Fy, what delayes you make? I dare not,
Recorders.
I shall be drunke presently and do strange things then.

Lam.
Not drink a cup with your Mistris? ô the pleasure.

Din.
Lady, why this?

Musicke.
Lam.
We must have mirth to our wine, man.

Din.
Pl--- o'th' Musick.

Cham.
God-a-mercy VVench,
If thou dost Cuckold me, I shall forgive thee.

Din.
The house will all rise now, this will disturb all.
Did you doe this?

Lam.
Peace, and sit quiet, foole,
You love me, come, sit downe and drinke.

Enter Cleremont above.
Cler,
VVhat a divell aile you?
How cold I sweat? a hogs pox, stop your pipes,
Musick,
The thing will wake: now, now me thinks I find
His Sword just gliding through my throte: VVhat's that?
A vengeance choke your pipes. Are you there Lady?
Stop, stop those rascalls; doe you bring me hither
To be cut into minced meate? VVhy Dinant?

Din.
I cannot doe withall;
I have spoke, and spoke: I am betraied, and lost too.

Cler.
Doe you heare me? do you understand me?
Plague dam your whistles.

Musicke ends.
Lam.
'Twas but an over-sight, they have done, ly down.

Cler.
VVould you had done too.
You know not
In what a misery, and feare I ly.
You have a Lady in your armes.

Din.
I would have—

The Recorders againe.
Cham.
I'le watch you goodman wood have.

Cler.
Remove for heavens sake,
And fall to that you come for.

Lam.
Ly you downe,
'Tis but an houres endurance now.

Cler.
I dare not, softly sweet Lady,—heart?

Lam.
'Tis nothing but your feare, he sleeps still soundly,
Ly gently downe.

Cler.
'Pray make an end.

Din.
Come, Madam.

Lam.
These Chambers are too neare.

Ex. Din. Lam.
Cham.
I shall be nearer;
Well, goe thy wayes. I'le trust thee through the world,
Deale how thou wilt: that that I never feele,
I'le never feare. Yet by the honour of a Souldiour,
I hold thee truly Noble. How these things will looke,
And how their bloods will curdle? play on children,
You shall have pap anon. O thou grand foole,
That thou knowest, but thy fortune—

Musick done.
Cler.
Peace, good Madam,
Stop her mouth Dinant, it sleeps yet, 'pray' be wary,
Dispatch, I cannot endure this misery,
I can heare nothing more; I'le say my praiers,
And downe againe—
Whistle within.
A thousand larums, fall upon my quarter
Heaven send me off; When I ly keeping courses.
Pl--- o' your fumbling Dinant; how I shake?
'Tis still againe. Would I were in the Indies.
Exit Cler.

Enter Dinant, and Lamira. A light within.
Din.
Why doe ye use me thus? thus poorely? basely?
Worke me into a hope, and then destroy me?
Why did you send for me? this new way traine me?

Lam.
Madman, a fool, & fals man, now Ile shew thee man

Din.
'Pray' put your light out.

Lam.
No I'le hold it thus,
That all chast eyes, may see thy lust, and scorne it,
Tell me but this, when you first doted on me,
And made suite to enjoy me, as your wife,
Did you not hold me honest?

Din.
Yes, most vertuous.

Lam.
And did not that appeare, the onely lustre
That made me worth your love, and admiration?

Din.
I must confesse—

Lam.
Why would you deale so basely?
So like a thiefe? a villaine?

Din.
Peace, good Madam.

Lam.
I'le speake aloud too; thus maliciously,
Thus breaking all the rules of honestie,
Of honour, and of truth, for which I lov'd you,
For which, I call'd you servant, and admir'd you,
To steale that jewell, purchas'd by another
Piously set in Wedlock, even that Jewell,
Because it had no flame, you held unvaluable:
Can he that has lov'd good, doat on the divell?
For he that seekes a whore, seeks but his agent:
Or am I of so wild, and low of blood,
So nurs'd in infamies?

Din.
I doe not thinke so,
And I repent.

Lam.
That will not serve your turne, sir.


65

Din.
It was your treaty drew me on.

Lam.
But it was your villany,
Made you pursue it: I drew you but to try
How much a man, and nobly you durst stand,
How well you had deserv'd the name of vertuous;
But you, like a wild torrent, mix'd with all
Beastly and base affections came floating on,
Swelling your poison'd billowes—

Din.
Will you betray me?

Lam.
To all the miseries, a vext woman may.

Din.
Let me but out,
Give me but roome to tosse my sword about me,
And I will tell you y'are a treacherous woman,
O that I had but words!

Lam.
They will not serve you.

Din.
But two-edg'd words to cut thee; a Lady traytor?
Perish by a proud puppet? I did you too much honour,
To tender you my love, too much respected you,
To thinke you worthy of my worst embraces.
Goe, take your groome, and let him dally with you,
Your greasie groome; I scorne to impe your lame stock,
You are not faire, nor handsome, I lyed loudly.
This tongue abus'd you, when it spoke you beauteous.

Lam.
'Tis very well, 'tis brave.

Din.
Put out your light,
Your lascivious eyes, are flames enough
For fooles to find you out: a Lady plotter?
Must I begin, your sacrifice of mischiefe?
I and my friend, the first fruits of that blood,
You and your honourable Husband aime at?
Crooked and wretched you are both.

Lam.
To you, sir,
Yet to the eye of Justice, streight as Truth.

Din.
Is this a womans love? a womans mercy?
Do you professe this seriously? doe you laugh at me?

Lam.
Ha, ha.

Din.
Pl--- light upon your scornes, upon your flatteries
Upon your tempting faces, all destructions:
A bedrid Winter hang upon your cheekes,
And blast, blast, blast, those buds of pride that point you;
Death in your eyes to fright men from these dangers.
Raise up your trophy Cleremont.

Cler.
What a vengeance ayle yon?

Din.
What dismall noise is there, no honour in you?
Cleremont, we are betraied, betraied, sold by a woman,
Deale bravely for thy selfe.

Cler.
This comes of rutting;
Are we made stales to one another?

Din.
Yes, we are undone, lost.

Cler.
You shall pay for't grey-beard:
Vp up, you sleep your last else.

Lights above, two Servants and Anabell.
1 Serv.
No not yet, sir,
Lady, looke up: would you have wrong'd this beauty?
Wake so tender a Virgin, with rough tearmes?
You weare a sword; we must entreat you leave it.

2 Serv.
Fy sir, so sweet a Lady?

Cle.
Was this my bed-fellow? pray give me leave to look,
I am not mad yet, I may be, by and by.
Did this ly by me?
Did I feare this? is this a cause to shake at?
Away with me for shame, I am a rascall.

Enter Champernell, Beaupre, Verdoone, Laimra, Anabel, Cleremont, and two Servants.
Din.
I am amaz'd too.

Beau.
We'll recover you.

Verd.
You walk like Robin-good-fellow, all the house over
And every man afraid of you.

Din.
'Tis well Lady.
The honour of this deed, will be your owne,
The world shall know your bounty.

Beaup.
What shall we doe with 'em?

Cler.
Geld me,
For 'tis not fit I should be a man againe,
I am an Asse, a Dog.

Lam.
Take your revenges,
You know my Husbands wrongs, and your owne losses.

Anab.
A brave man, an admirable brave man;
Well, well, I would not be so tried again;
A very handsome proper gentleman.

Cler.
Will you let me ly by her but one houre more,
And then hang me?

Din.
Wee wait your malice, put your swords home bravely,
You have reason to seeke blood.

Lam.
Not as you are Noble.

Cham.
Hands off and give them liberty, onely disarm 'em.

Beaup.
We have done that already.

Champ.
You are welcome gentlemen,
I am glad my house, has any pleasure for you,
I keep a couple of Ladies here, they say faire,
And you are young, and handsome gentlemen;
Have you anymore mind to Wenches?

Cler.
To be abus'd too? Lady, you might have help'd this,

Ana.
Sir now 'tis past, but 't may be I may stand,
Your friend hereafter, in a greater matter.

Cler.
Never whilst you live.

Ana.
You cannot tell—now sir a parting hand.

Cler.
Downe and Roses:
Well I may live to see you again. A dull rogue,
No revelation in thee.

Lam.
Were you well frighted?
Were your fitts, from the heart, of all colds and colours?
That's all your punishment.

Cler.
It might have bin all yours,
Had not a blockhead undertaken it.

Cham.
Your swords you must leave to these gentlemen.

Verd.
And now, when you dare fight,
We are on even Ice againe.

Din.
'Tis well:
To be a Mistris, is to be a monster.
And so I leave your house, and you for ever.

Lam.
Leave your wild lusts, and then you are a master.

Cham.
You may depart too.

Cler.
I had rather stay here.

Cham.
Faith we shall fright you worse.

Cler.
Not in that manner,
There's five hundred crownes, fright me but so againe.

Din.
Come Cleremont, this is the houre of foole.

Cler.
Wiser the next shall be or we'll to schoole.

Exeunt.
Champ.
How coolely these hot gallants are departed?
Faith cousin 'twas unconscionably done,
To ly so still and so long.

Anab.
'Twas your pleasure,
If 'twere a fault I may hereafter mend.

Champ.
O, My best Wife.
Take now what course thou wilt, and lead what life.

Lam.
The more trust you commit, the more care still,
Goodnesse and vertue, shall attend my will.

Cham.
Let's laugh this night out now & countour gains,
We have our honours home, and they their paines.

Exeunt omnes.