 | The Lovers Progres |  |
Actus Secundus.
Scæna prima.
Enter Lisander, and Lancelot.Lis.
Prethee good Lancelot remember that
Thy Masters life is in thy trust, and therefore
Be very careful.
Lance.
I will lose mine owne, rather then hazard yours.
Lis.
Take what disguise
You in your owne discretion shall think fittest,
To keep your selfe unknowne.
Lanc.
I warrant yee;
'Tis not the first time I have gone invisible:
I am as fine a Fairie in a businesse
Concerning night-worke—
Lis.
Leave your vanities:
VVith this purse (which deliver'd,
You may spare your Oratory) convey this Letter to
Caliste's woman.
Lanc.
'Tis a handsome girle, Mistris Clarinda.
Lis.
I have made her mine. You know your work.
Lanc.
And if I sweat not in it,
At my returne discarde me.
Exit.
Lisand.
O Caliste! the fairest! cruellest!
Enter Clarange.
Clar.
So early stirring? a good day to you.
Lis.
I was viewing sir,
The site of your house, and the handsomnesse about it:
Believe me it stands healthfully and sweetly.
Clara.
The house and master of it really
Are ever at your service.
Lis.
I returne it:
Now if you please goe forward in your storie
Of your deare friend and Mistris.
Clara.
I will tell it,
And tell it short, because 'tis breakfast time,
(And love a tedious thing to a quick stomach)
You eate not yester-night.
Lis.
I shall endure sir.
Clara.
My selfe (and as I then deliver'd to you)
A gentleman of noble hope, one Lidian,
Both brought up from our infancy together,
One company, one friendship, and one exercise,
Ever affecting, one bed holding us,
One griefe, and one joy parted still between us,
More then companions, twins in all our actions,
VVe grew up till we were men, held one heart still:
Time call'd us on to Armes, we were one souldier,
Alike we fought our dangers and our honours,
Gloried alike one in anothers noblenesse:
VVhen Armes had made us fit, we were one lover,
VVe lov'd one woman, lov'd without division,
And woo'd a long time with one faire affection;
And she, as it appeares, loves us alike too.
At length considering what our love must grow to,
And covet in the end, this one was parted,
Rivalls and honours make men stand at distance.
VVe then woo'd with advantage, but were friends still,
76
We could not both enjoy the Ladies favour,
Without some scandall to her reputation,
We put it to her choice, this was her sentence,
To part both from her, and the last returning
Should be her Lord; we obey'd, and now you know it;
And for my part, (so truely I am touch'd with't)
I will goe farre enough, and be the last too,
Or ne're returne.
Lisand.
A sentence of much cruelty;
But milde, compar'd with whats pronounc'd on me.
Our loving youth is borne to many miseries.
What is that Lidian pray ye?
Claran.
Caliste's brother, if ever you have heard of that faire Ladie.
Lisan.
I have seen her sir.
Claran.
Then you have seen a wonder.
Lisan.
I doe confesse: of what yeares is this Lidian?
Clara.
About my years: there is not much between us.
Lisan.
I long to know him.
Clara.
'Tis a vertuous longing,
As many hopes hang on his noble head,
As blossoms on a bough in May, and sweet ones.
Lis.
Ye are a faire storie of your friend.
Clar.
Of truth sir: now, what's the matter?
Enter a Servant.
Serv.
There is a gentleman
At doore, would speak with you on private businesse.
Clara.
With me?
Serv.
He saies so, and brings haste about him.
Clara.
Wait on him in.
Exit Serv.
Lisan.
I will retire the while, to the next room.
Clar.
We shall not long disturbe you.
Ent. Alcidon.
Alc.
Save ye sir.
Clara.
The like to you fair sir: pray you come neare.
Alc.
Pray you instruct me for I know you not.
With Monsieur Clarange I would speake.
Clar.
I am he sir:
Ye are nobly welcome; I wait your businesse.
Alcid.
This will informe you.
Clara.
Will you please to sit down?
Reads.
He shall command me sir, Ile wait upon him
Within this houre.
Alcid.
Y'are a noble gentleman,
Wil't please you bring a friend? we are two of us,
And pitty either sir should be unfurnish'd.
Clara.
I have none now, and the time is set so short,
'Twill not be possible.
Alc.
Doe me the honour:
I know you are so full of brave acquaintance,
And worthy friends, you cannot want a partner:
I would be loath to stand still sir; besides,
You know the custome, and the vantage of it,
If you come in alone.
Clar.
And I must meet it.
Alc.
Send, wee'l defer an houre, let us be equall:
Games won and lost on equall tearmes shew fairest.
Clar.
'Tis to no purpose to send any whither,
Unlesse men be at home by Revelation:
So please you breath a while; when I have done with him
You may be exercis'd too: Ile trouble no man.
Enter Lisander.
Lis.
They are very loud. Now what's the newes?
Clara.
I must leave you,
Leave you a while, two houres hence Ile returne friend.
Lisan.
Why, what's the matter?
Clar.
A little businesse.
Lis.
And't be but a little, you may take me with ye.
Clar.
'Twill be a trouble to you.
Lis.
No indeed, to do you service, I account a pleasure.
Clar.
I must alone.
Lisan.
Why?
Clarang.
'Tis necessity—
Before you passe the walks, and back agen,
I will be with ye.
Lis.
If it be not unmannerly
To presse you, I would goe.
Claran.
Ile tell you true sir,
This gentleman and I upon appointment,
Are going to visit a Lady.
Lisond.
I am no Capuchin, why should not I goe?
Alc.
Take the gentleman,
Come he may see the gentlewoman too,
And be most welcome, I do beseech you take him.
Lisan.
By any means, I love to see a gentlewoman,
A prettie wench too.
Clar.
Well sir, wee'll meet you,
And at the place: My service to the Lady.
Alc.
I kisse your hand.
Exit.
Clara.
Prethee read o're her Letter.
Lisander reads.
Monsieur,
I know
you have consider'd the dark sentence Olinda
gave us, and that (however she disguis'd it) it pointed
more at our swords edges then our bodies banishments; the
last must enjoy her: if we retire, our youths ars lost in
wandring; in emulation we shall grow old men, and feeble,
Which is the scorne of love, and rust of honour, and so return
more fit to wed our Sepulchers, then the Saint we aime at;
let us therefore make our journey short, and our hearts ready,
and with our swords in our hands put it to fortune, which
shall be worthy to receive that blessing, Ile stay you on
the mountaine, our old hunting place, this gentleman alone
runs the hazzard with me, and so I kisse your hand.
Your servant Lidian.
Is this your wench? you'll finde her a sharp Mistris.What have I thrust my selfe into? is this that Lidian
You told me of?
Clara.
The same.
Lisan.
My Ladies brother?
No cause to heave my sword against but his?
To save the father yesterday, and this morning,
To help to kill the son? this is most courteous?
The onely way to make the daughter doat on me.
Clara.
Why doe you muse? would ye goe off?
Lis.
No, no, I must on now; this will be kindly taken;
No life to sacrifice, but part of hers?
Doe you fight straight?
Clara.
Yes, presently.
Lis.
To morrow then,
The balefull tidings of this day will break out,
And this nights Sun will set in bloud; I am troubl'd:
If I am kill'd, I am happy.
Clara.
VVill you goe friend?
Lis.
I am ready sir, fortune thou hast made me monstrous.
Exeunt.
Enter Malfort and Clarinda.
Malf.
Your cousin, and my true friend, lusty Leon,
Shall know how you use me.
Clar.
Be more temperate,
Or I will never use, nor know you more
Ith' way of a seruant: all the house takes notice
Of your ridiculous fopperie; I have no sooner
Perform'd my duties in my Ladies chamber,
And she scarce down the staires, but you appeare
Like my evill spirit to me.
Mal.
Can the fish live out of the water, or the Salamander
77
The frying-pan of your favour?
Cla.
Pray you forget
Your curious comparisons, borrowed from
The pond, and kitchin, and remember what
My Ladies pleasure is for th'entertainment
Of her noble father.
Ma.
I would learn the art of memory in your table book.
Cla.
Very good sir, no more but up and ride, I apprehend
Your meaning, soft fire makes sweet mault sir:
I'le answer you in a Proverbe,
Mal.
But one kisse from thy honey lippe.
Cla.
You sight too high, my hand is
A faire ascent from my foot, his slavering kisses
Spoyle me more gloves,—enough for once, you'l surfet
With too much grace.
Mal.
Have you no imployment for me?
Cla.
Yes, yes, go send for Leon, and convey him
Into the private Arbour, from his mouth
I heare your praises with more faith.
Ma.
I am gone, yet one thing ere I go, there's at the dore
The rarest Fortune-teller, he hath told me
The strangest things; he knows ye are my Mistris,
And under seale deliver'd how many children
I shall beget on you, pray you give him hearing,
He'l make it good to you.
Gla.
A cunning man
Of your own making, howsoe're I'le heare him
At your intreaty.
Mal.
Now I perceive ye love me,
At my entreaty, come in friend—remember
To speake as I directed, he knows his lesson,
And the right way to please her; this it is
To have a head-peece.
Exit.
Enter Lancelot like a Fortune-teller, with a Purse, and two Letters in it.
Cla.
'Tis said you can tell Fortunes to come.
Lan.
Yes Mistris and what's past;
Unglove your hand, by this straight line, I see
You have laine crooked.
Cla.
How? laine crooked?
Lan.
Yes; and in that posture plaid at the old game,
(No body heares me, and I'le be no blab)
And at it lost your maiden-head.
Cla.
A shrewd fellow;
'Tis truth, but not to be confess'd; in this
Your palmestry deceaves you, some thing else sir.
Lan.
Ye are a great woman with your Lady, and
Acquainted with her counsels.
Cla.
Still more strange.
Lan.
There is a noble Knight Lisander loves her,
Whom she regards not and the destinies
With whom I am familiar, have deliver'd
That by your meanes alone, he must enjoy her.
Your hand agen, Yes, yes; you have already
Promis'd him your assistance, and what's more,
Tasted his bounty, for which, from the skye
There are 200. crownes dropp'd in a Purse,
Looke backe, you'l find it true; nay, open it,
'Tis good Gold I assure you.
Cla.
How, two Letters? the first indors'd to me? this to my Lady?
Subscrib'd Lisander.
Lan.
And the Fortuneteller, his servant Lancelot.
Cla.
How had I lost my eyes,
That I could not know thee? not a word of the losse
Of my virginity.
Lanc.
Nor who I am.
Cla.
I'le use all speedy meanes for your dispatch,
With a welcome answer, but till you receive it,
Continue thus disguis'd, Mounsieur Malfort
(You know the way to humour him) shall provide
A lodging for you, and good entertainment;
Nay, since we trade both one way, thou shalt have
Some feeling with me, take that.
Lan.
Bountifull wench may'st thou ne're want imployment.
Cla.
Nor such pay boy.
Exeunt.
Enter Lidian, Alcidon, (at one dore) Lisander, Clarange (at another.)
Lid.
You'r welcome.
Alc.
Let us do our office first,
And then make choice of a new peece of ground
To try our fortunes.
Lis.
All's faire here.
Alc.
And here, their swords are equall.
Lis.
If there be any odds in mine, we will exchange.
Alc.
Wee'l talke of that
When we are farther off, farwell.
Lis.
Farewell friend.
Ex. Lisand. and Alcid
Lid.
Come let us not be idle?
Cla.
I will find you imployment, feare not.
Lid.
You know sir, the cause that brings us hether
Cla.
There needs no more discoursing,
No time, nor place for repetition now.
Lid.
Let our Swords argue, and I wish Clarange,
The proud Olinda saw us.
Cla.
Would she did;
What ever estimation she holds of me,
She should behold me like a man fight for her.
Lid.
'Tis nobly said; set on love; and my fortune—
Cla.
The same for me, come home brave Lidian,
'Twas manly thrust, this token to the Lady,
Ye have it sir, deliver it, take breath,
I see ye bleed apace, ye shall have faire play.
Enter Lisander.
Lis.
You must lye there a while, I cannot help you,
Lid.
Nay, then my fortunes gone, I know I must dye:
Yet dearely will I sell my love, come on both,
And use your fortunes, I expect no favour;
Weake as I am, my confidence shall meet ye.
Cla.
Yeild up your cause and live.
Lid.
What dost thou hold me?
A recreant, that prefers life before credit?
Though I bleed hard, my honour finds no Issue,
That's constant to my heart.
Cla.
Have at your life then.
Lis.
Hold, or I'le turne, and bend my sword against ye;
My cause Clarange too, view this brave Gentleman,
That yet may live to kill you, he stands nobly,
And has as great a promise of the day
As you can tye unto your selfe, he's ready,
His Sword as sharpe, view him with that remembrance,
That you deliver'd him to me Clarange:
And with those eyes, that clearnesse will become ye:
View him, as you reported him; survey him,
Fixe on your friendship sir, I know you are noble,
And step but Inward to your old affection,
Examine but that soule grew to your bosome,
And try then if your Sword will bite, it cannot,
The edge will turne againe, asham'd, and blunted;
Lidian, you are the patterne of faire friendship,
78
The Temple of true hearts, stor'd with affections,
For sweetnesse of your spirit made a Saint,
Can you decline this noblenesse to anger?
To mortall anger? 'gainst the man ye love most?
Have ye the name of vertuous, not the nature?
Lid.
I will sit downe.
Clarin.
And I'le sit by you Lidian.
Lis.
And I'le go on, can heaven be pleas'd with these things?
To see two hearts that have been twin'd together
Married in friendship to the world, to wonder,
Of one growth, of one nourishment, one health,
Thus mortally divorc'd for one weake woman?
Can love be pleas'd? love is a gentle spirit,
The wind that blowes the Aprill flowers, not softer;
She is drawne with doves to shew her peacefulnesse,
Lions and bloudy Pards are Mars's servants;
Would ye serve love? do it with humblenesse,
Without a noise, with still prayers, and soft murmurs;
Upon her Altars offer your obedience,
And not your brawles; she's won with teares, not terrors:
That fire ye kindle to her deity,
Is only gratefull when it blowes with sighs,
And holy Incense slung with white hand-innocence;
Ye wound her now; ye are too superstitious,
No sacrifice of bloud, or death she longs for:
Lid.
Came he from heaven?
Clarin.
He tels us truth good Lidian.
Lis.
That part of Noble love which is most sweet,
And gives eternall being to faire beauty,
Honour. You hack a peeces with your swords,
And that ye fight to crowne, ye kill faire credit.
Clara.
Thus we embrace, no more fight, but all friendship,
And where love pleases to bestow his benefits,
Let us not argue.
Lid.
Nay brave sir, come in too;
You may love also, and may hope, If he do,
And not rewarded for't, there is no justice;
Farwell friend, here let's part upon our pilgrimage,
It must be so, Cupid draws on our sorrowes.
And where the lot lights—
Claran.
I shall count it happinesse,
Farewell deare friend.
Lis.
First, let's relieve the Gentleman
That lyes hurt in your cause, and bring him off,
And take some cure for your hurts, then I will part too,
A third unfortunate, and willing wanderer.
Exeunt.
Enter Olinda, and Caliste.
Olin.
My feares foresaw 'twould come to this.
Cal.
I would your sentence had been milder.
Olin.
'Tis past helpe now.
Cal.
I share in your despaire, and yet my hopes
Have not quite left me, since all possible meanes
Are practised to prevent the mischiefe following
Their mortall meeting, my Lord is coasted one way,
My father, though his hurts forbad his travell,
Hath tooke another, my brother in Law Beronte,
A third, and every minute we must looke for
The certaine knowledge, which we must endure
With that calme patience heav'n shall please to lend us.
Enter Dorilaus, and Cleander, severally.
Dor.
Dead both?
Clea.
Such is the rumour, and 'tis generall.
Olin.
I heare my passing-bell.
Cal.
I am in a feavour.
Clea.
They say their seconds too; but what they are,
Is not known yet, some worthy fellows certain.
Dor.
Where had you knowledge?
Clea.
Of the Country people, 'tis spoken every where.
Dor.
I heard it so too;
And 'tis so common, I do halfe beleeve it,
You have lost a brother wench, he lov'd you well,
And might have liv'd to have done his countrie service,
But he is gone, thou feld'st untimely Lidian,
But by a valiant hand, that's some small comfort,
And tooke him with thee too, thou lov'st brave company,
Weeping will do no good, you lost a servant,
He might have liv'd to have been your Master Lady,
But you fear'd that.
Olind.
Good sir, be tender to me,
The newes is bad enough, you need not presse it,
I lov'd him well, I lov'd 'em both.
Dor.
It seemes so.
How many more have you to love so Lady?
They were both fooles to fight for such a Fidle;
Certaine there was a dearth of noble anger,
When a slight woman was thought worth a quarrell.
Olin.
Pray you thinke nobler.
Do.
I'le tell thee what I thinke, the plague, war, famine,
Nay put in dice and drunkennesse, and those
You'l grant are pretty helpes, kill not so many
(I meane so many noble) as your loves do,
Rather your lewdnesse, I crave your mercy women.
Be not offended if I anger ye.
I am sure ye have touch'd me deep, I came to be merry,
And with my children, but to see one ruin'd
By this fell accident—are they all dead?
If they be, speake?
Clean.
What newes?
Enter Beronte, Alcidon, Clarinda, following with a letter,
Ber.
What dead? ye pose me;
I understand you not.
Clea.
My brother Lidian, Clarange, and their seconds.
Ber.
Here is one of 'em, and sure this Gentleman's alive.
Alc.
I hope so, so is your son sir, so is brave Clarange:
They fought indeed, and they were hurt sufficiently;
We were all hurt, that bred the generall rumour,
But friends againe all, and like friends we parted.
Clea.
Heard ye of Lisander?
Ber.
Yes, and miss'd him narrowly:
He was one of the combatants, fought with this Gentleman,
Second against your brother, by his wisdome
(For certainly good fortune followes him)
All was made peace, I'le tell you the rest at dinner,
For we are hungry.
Alc.
I before I eate
Must pay a vow I am sworne to; my life Madam
Was at Lisander's mercy, I live by it;
And for the noble favour, he desir'd me
To kisse your faire hand for him, offering
This second service as a Sacrifice
At the Altar of your vertues.
Dor.
Come, joy on all sides;
Heaven will not suffer honest men to perish.
Clean.
Be proud of such a friend.
Dor.
Forgive me Madam,
It was a griefe might have concern'd you neare too.
Clea.
No worke of excellence but still Lisander,
Go thy waies worthy.
Ex. Manet. Cal. Clarin. stayes Calist.
Olin.
Wee'l be merry too,
Were I to speake againe, I would be wiser.
79
Too much of this rare cordiall makes me sick,
However I obey you.
Clarin.
Now or never is an apt time to move her, Madam.
Cal.
Who's that?
Clari.
Your servant, I would speake with your Ladyship,
Cal.
Why dost thou looke about?
Clarin.
I have private businesse
That none must heare but you Lisander—
Cal.
Where?
Clarin.
Nay, is not here, but would entreat this favor,
Some of your Balsome from your own hand given,
For he is much hurt, and that he thinkes would cure him.
Cal.
He shall have all, my prayers too.
Clarind.
But conceive, me,
It must be from your selfe immediately,
Pitty so brave a Gentleman should perish,
He is superstitious, and he holds your hand
Of infinite power: I would not urge this Madam,
But only in a mans extreames, to helpe him.
Cal.
Let him come (good wench) 'tis that I wish, I am happy in't,
My husband his true friend, my noble father,
The faire Olinda, all desire to see him;
He shall have many hands.
Clarind.
That he desires not,
Nor eyes, but yours to looke upon his miseries,
For then he thinkes 'twould be no perfect cure (Madam)
He would come private.
Cal.
How can that be here?
I shall do wrong unto all those that honour him,
Besides my credit.
Clarin.
Dare ye not trust a hurt man?
Not straine a curtesie to save a Gentleman?
To save his life that has sav'd all your family?
A man that comes like a poore mortifi'd Pilgrim;
Only to beg a blessing, and depart againe?
He would but see you, that he thinkes would cure him.
But since you find fit reasons to the contrary,
And that it cannot stand with your cleare honour,
Though you best know how well he has deserv'd of ye:
I'l send him word backe, though I grieve to do it,
Grieve at my soule, for certainly 'twill kill him,
What your will is.
Cal.
Stay, I will thinke upon't; where is he wench?
Clarin.
If you desire to see him,
Let not that trouble you, he shall be with ye,
And in that time, that no man shall suspect ye;
Your honour Madam, is in your own free keeping;
Your care in me, in him all honesty;
If ye desire him not, let him passe by ye:
And all this businesse reckon but a dreame.
Cal.
Go in, and counsell me, I would faine see him,
And willingly comfort him.
Clarin.
'Tis in your power.
And if you dare trust me, you shall do it safely,
Read that, and let that tell you, how he honours you.
Exeunt.
| The Lovers Progres | |