 | The double Marriage |  |
Actus quartus
Scæna prima.
Enter Sess. Boatswaine, Master, Gunner.Sess.
He that feares death, or tortures, let him leave me.
The stops that we have met with, Crown our Conquest:
Common attempts are fit for common men;
The rare, the rarest spirits. Can we be daunted?
We that have smil'd at Sea at certain ruines,
Which men on shore; but hazarded would shake at
We that have liv'd free, in despite of fortune,
Laught at the out-stretch'd Arme of Tyranny,
As still too short to reach us, shall we faint now?
No my brave mates, I know your fiery temper,
And that you can, and dare, as much as men:
Calamity, that severs worldly friendships,
Could ne'r divide us, you are still the same;
The constant followers of my banisht fortunes;
The Instruments of my revenge; the hands
By which I work, and fashion all my projects.
Mast.
And such we will be ever.
Gun.
'Slite Sir, Cramme me
Into a Canons mouth, and shoot me at
Proud Ferrands head; may onely he fall with me,
My life I rate at nothing.
Boatsw.
Could I but get,
Within my swords length of him; and if then
He scape me, may th'account of all his sinnes
Be added unto mine.
Mast.
'Tis not to dye Sir,
But to dye unreveng'd, that staggers me:
For were your ends serv'd, and our Country free,
We would fall willing sacrifices.
Sess.
To rise up,
Most glorious Martyrs.
Boats.
But the reason why
We weare these shapes?
Sess.
Onely to get accesse:
Like honest men, we never shall approach him,
Such are his feares, but thus attir'd like Switzers,
And fashioning our language to our habits;
Bold, bloody, desperate, we may be admitted
Among his guard. But if this faile, I'le try
A thousand others, out doe Proteus
In various shapes, but I will reach his heart.
And seale my anger on't.
Enter Ronero and the Guard.
Mast.
The Lord Ronero.
Boats.
Shall we begin with him?
Sess.
He is not ripe yet,
Nor fit to fall: as you see me begin,
Withall care imitate.
Gun.
We are instructed.
Boats.
Would we were at it once.
Ron.
Keepe a strict watch,
And let the guards be doubled, this last night
The King had fearefull dreames.
Sess.
'Tis a good Omen
To our attempts.
Roner.
What men are these? What seek you?
Sess.
Imployment.
Roner.
Of what nature?
Sess.
We are Souldiers;
We have seen towns and Churches set on fire;
The Kennels runing blood, coy virgins ravish'd;
The Altars ransack'd, and the holy reliques,
Yea, and the Saints themselves, made lawfull spoyles,
Unto the Conquerors: but these good dayes are past,
And we made Beggars, by this Idle Peace,
For want of action. I am Sir no stranger
To the Government of this state, I know the King
Needs men, that onely doe what he commands,
And search no further: 'tis the profession
Of all our Nation, to serve faithfully,
Where th'are best payed: and if you entertaine us,
I doe not know the thing you can command,
Which we'le not put in act.
Roner.
A goodly Parsonage.
Mast.
And if you have an Enemy, or so
That you would have dispatch'd.
Gun.
They are here, can fit you.
Boats.
Or if there be an Itch, though to a man,
Sess.
You shall tye
Our consciences in your purse-strings.
Roner.
Gentlemen,
I like your freedome: I am now in haste,
But waite for my return. I like the Rascals,
They may be usefull.
Ses.
We'l attend you Sir:
Roner.
Doe; and be confident of entertainment;
I hope ye will deserve it.
Exit Roner. and Guard.
Ses.
O, no doubt Sir:
Thus farre we are prosperous; we'l be his guard,
Till Tyranny and pride finde full reward:
Exeunt.
Enter Pandulfo, and Juliana.
Pand.
My blessing? no; a Fathers heavy curse,
Pursue, and overtake him.
Jul.
Gentle Sir.
Pand.
My name, and Family; end in my self
Rather then live in him.
Iul.
Deare Sir forbeare,
A fathers curses hit far off, and kill too.
37
But all that stand within the dangerous level.
Some bullet may return upon your selfe too,
Though against nature, if you still go on
In this unnaturall course.
Pand.
Thou art not made
Of that same stuffe as other women are:
Thy injuries would teach patience to blaspheme;
Yet still thou art a Dove.
Jul.
I know not malice, but like an innocent, suffer.
Pand.
More miraculous!
Ile have a woman Chronicled, and for goodnesse,
Which is the greatest wonder. Let me see,
I have no sonne to inherit after me;
Him I disclaime.
What then? Ile make thy vertues my sole heire;
Thy story Ile have written, and in Gold to;
In prose and verse, and by the ablest doers:
A word or two of a kind step-father
Ile have put in, good Kings and Queens shal buy it.
And if the actions of ill great women,
And of the modern times too, are remembred,
That have undone their husbands, and their families,
What will our story do? It shall be so,
And I wil streight about it.
Exit Pand.
Enter Boy.
Jul.
Such as love
Goodnesse for glory, have it for reward;
I love mine for it selfe: let innocence
Be written on my Tomb, though ne're so humble,
Tis all I am ambitious of. But I
Forget my vows.
Boy.
'Fore me, you are not modest,
Nor is this Courtlike. Would you take it wel,
If she should rudely presse into your Closet,
When from your several Boxes you choose paint,
To make a this daies face with?
Jul.
What's the matter?
Boy.
Pray know her pleasure first.
Jul.
To whom speak you Boy?
Boy.
Your Ladiships pardon. That proud Lady theife,
That stole away my Lord from your embraces,
(Wrinckes at two and twenty on her cheekes for't,
Or Mercury unallayed, make blisters on it)
Would force a visit.
Jul.
And dare you deny her,
Or any else that I call mine? No more,
Attend her with all reverence and respect;
The want in you of manners, my Lord may
Construe in me for malice. I wil teach you
How, to esteem and love the beauty he dotes on;
Prepare a banquet.
Enter Martia and Boy.
Madam, thus my duty
Stoops to the favour you vouchsafe your servant,
In honouring her house.
Mart.
Is this in scorn?
Jul.
No by the life of Virolet: give me leave
To sweare by him, as by a Saint I worship,
But am to know no further, my heart speaks that
My servants have been rude, and this boy (doting
Upon my sorrows) hath forgot his duty:
In which, that you may think I have no share,
Sirra, upon your knees, desire her pardon.
Boy.
I dare not disobey you.
Mart.
Prethee rise,
My anger never looks so low: I thank you.
And wil deserve it, If we may be private,
I came to see and speak with you.
Jul.
Be gone.
Exit Boy.
Good Madam sit.
Mart.
I rob you of your place then.
Jul.
You have deserv'd a better, in my bed;
Make use of this too: Now your pleasure Lady.
If in your breast there be a worthy pitty,
That brings you for my comfort, you do nobly:
But if you come to triumph in your conquest,
Or tread on my calamities, 'twil wrong
Your other excellencies. Let it suffice,
That you alone enjoy the best of men,
And that I am forsaken.
Mart.
He the best?
The scum and shame of mankind.
Jul.
Virolet, Lady?
Mart.
Blest in him? I would my youth had chosen
Consuming feavers, bed-rid age
For my companions, rather then a thing
To lay whose basenesse open, would even poyson
The tongue that speaks it.
Jul.
Certainly from you
At no part he deserves this; and I tell you,
Durst I pretend but the least title to him,
I should not hear this.
Mart.
He's an impudent villaine,
Or a malicious wretch: to you ungratefull;
To me, beyond expression barbarous.
I more then hate him; from you, he deserves
A death most horrid: from me, to die for ever,
And know no end of torments. Would you have comfort?
Would you wash off the stain that sticks upon you,
In being refus'd? Would you redeem your fame,
Shipwrack'd in his base wrongs? if you desire this,
It is not to be done with slavish suffering,
But by a Noble anger, making way
To a most brave revenge, we may call justice;
Our injuries are equal; joyn with me then,
And share the honour.
Jul.
I scarce understand you,
And know I shal be most unapt to learn
To hate the man I stil must love and honour.
Mar.
This foolish dotage in soft-hearted women,
Makes proud men insolent: but take your way,
Ile run another course.
Jul.
As you are noble,
Deliver his offence.
Mart.
He has denied
The rites due to a wife.
Jul.
O me most happy,
How largely am I payd for all my sufferings?
Most honest Virolet, thou just performer
Of all thy promises: I call to mind now,
When I was happy in those joyes you speak of,
In a chast bed, and warranted by Law too,
He oft would swear, that if he should survive 'em,
(Which then I knew he wisht not) never woman
Should taste of his imbraces; this one act
Makes me again his debtor.
Mart.
And was this
The cause my youth and beauty were contemn'd?
If I sit down here! wel—
Jul.
I dare thy worst,
Plot what thou canst, my piety shal guard him
Against thy malice. Leave my house and quickly,
Thou wilt infect these innocent walls. By vertue
I wil inform him of thy bloody purpose,
And turn it on thine own accursed head;
Believ't I wil.
Exit Juliana.
38
But tis not in thy power
To hinder what I have decreed against him.
Ile set my selfe to sale, and live a strumpet;
Forget my birth, my father, and his honour,
Rather then want an instrument to help me
Enter Ronvere.
In my revenge. The Captain of the guard;
Blest opportunity courts me.
Ron.
Sad and troubled?
How brave her anger shews? how it sets off
Her naturall beauty? under what happy star
Was Virolet born, to be belov'd and sought to,
By two incomparable women? Noblest Lady,
I have heard your wrongs and pity them: and if
The service of my life could give me hope
To gain your favour, I should be most proud
To be commanded.
Mart.
Tis in you, my Lord,
To make me your glad servant.
Ron.
Name the means.
Mar.
Tis not preferment, Jewels, Gold, or Courtship.
He that desires to reap the harvest of
My youth and beauty, must begin in blood,
And right my wrongs.
Ron.
I apprehend you Madam,
And rest assur'd tis done; I am provided
Of instruments to fit you: To the King,
Ile instantly present you; if I faile,
He shal make good your aymes: he's lesse then man,
That to atchieve your favour, would not doe
Deeds, friends would fear to put their agents to.
Exeunt.
Enter Virolet Reading.
Vir.
Quod invitus facis, non est scelus. Tis an axiome,
Now whether willingly I have departed
With that I lov'd: with that, above her life
Lov'd me again, crownd me a happy husband,
Was full of children: her afflictions
That I begot, that when our age must perish,
And all our painted frailties turn to ashes,
Then shal they stand and propagate our honors.
Whether this done, and taking to protection
A new strange beauty, it was a useful one:
How to my lust? if it be so, I am sinful;
And guilty of that crime I would fling from me.
Was there not in it this fair course of vertue?
This pious course, to save my friends, my Countrey,
That even then had put on a mourning garment,
And wept the desolation of her children?
Her noblest children? Did not she thrust me on,
And to my duty clapt the spur of honour?
Was there a way, without this woman, left me
To bring 'em off? the marrying of this woman?
If not, why am I stung thus? why tormented?
Or had there been a wild desire joyn'd with it,
How easily, both these, and all their beauties
Might I have made mine own? why am I toucht thus,
Having perform'd the great redemption,
Both of my friends and family? fairly done it?
Without base and lascivious ends: O Heaven,
Why am I still at war thus? why this a mischiefe,
That honesty and honour had propounded,
I, and absolv'd my tender wil, and chid me,
Nay then unwillingly flung me on.
Enter Juliana, and the Boy.
Boy.
He's here Madam;
This is the melancholy walk he lives in,
And chooses ever to encrease his sadnesse.
Jul.
Stand by.
Vir.
Tis she: how I shake now and tremble?
The vertues of that mind are torments to me.
Jul.
Sir, if my hated face shal stir your anger,
Or this forbidden path I tread in vex you;
My love, and faire obedience left behind me,
Your pardon asked, I shal return and blesse you.
Vir.
Pray stay a little, I delight to see you;
May not we yet, though fortune have divided us,
And set an envious stop between our pleasures,
Look thus one at another? sigh and weep thus?
And read in one anothers eyes, the Legends,
And wonders of our old loves? be not fearful,
Though you be now a Saint, I may adore you:
May I not take this hand, and on it sacrifice
The sorrows of my heart? white seale of vertue.
Jul.
My Lord, you wrong your wedlock.
Vir.
Were she here,
And with her all severe eyes to behold us,
We might do this; I might name Julian,
And to the reverence of that name, bow thus:
I might sigh Juliana, she was mine once;
But I too weak a guard for that great Treasure—
And whilst she has a name, believe me Lady,
This broken heart shal never want a sorrow.
Jul.
Forget her sir, your honour now commands you
You are anothers, keep those griefes for her,
She richly can reward 'em. I would have spoken with you
Vir.
What is your wil? for nothing you can aske,
So ful of goodnesse are your words and meanings,
Must be denied: speak boldly.
Jul.
I thank you sir. I come not
To beg, or flatter, onely to be believ'd,
That I desire: for I shal tell a story,
So far from seeming truth, yet a most true one;
So horrible in nature, and so horrid;
So beyond wickednesse, that when you heare it,
It must appeare the practice of another,
The cast & malice of some one you have wrongd much;
And me, you may imagine me accus'd to,
Unlesse you call to mind my daily sufferings;
The infinite obedience I have born you,
That hates all name and nature of revenge.
My love, that nothing but my death can sever,
Rather then hers I speak of.
Vir.
Juliana,
To make a doubt of what you shall deliver,
After my full experience of your vertues,
Were to distrust a providence; to think you can lie,
Or being wrong'd, seek after foule repairings,
To forge a Creed against my faith.
Jul.
I must do so, for it concernes your life sir;
And if that word may stir you, heare and prosper:
I should be dumb else, were not you at stake here.
Vir.
What new friend have I found, that dares deliver
This loden Trunke from his afflictions?
What pitying hand, of all that feeles my miseries,
Brings such a benefit?
Jul.
Be wise and manly,
And with your honour fall, when Heaven shall call you,
Not by a Hellish mischiefe.
Vir.
Speak my blest one,
How weak and poor I am, now she is from me?
Jul.
Your wife.
Viro.
How's that?
Jul.
Your wife.
Vir.
Be tender of her, I shal believe else—
Jul.
I must be true: your eare, sir;
39
Into a thousand plagues, a thousand monsters,
It will disperse it selfe, and fright resistance,
Viro.
She seeke my life with you? make you her agent?
Another love? O speake but truth.
Jul.
Be patient,
Deare as I love you, else I leave you wretched.
Vir.
Forward, tis well, it shal be welcome to me;
I have liv'd too long, numbred too many daies,
Yet never found the benefit of living;
Now when I come to reap it with my service,
And hunt for that my youth and honour aimes at,
The Sunne sets on my fortune red and bloody,
And everlasting night begins to close me.
Tis time to die.
Enter Martia and Ronvere.
Jul.
She comes her selfe.
Ron.
Believe Lady,
And on this Angel hand, your servant seales it,
You shal be Mistris of your whole desires,
And what ye shal command.
Mart.
Ha mynion,
My precious dame, are you there? nay go forward,
Make your complaints, and poure out your faind pities,
Slave, like to him you serve: I am the same still,
And what I purpose, let the world take witnesse,
Shal be so finisht, and to such example,
Spite of your poore preventions; my deare Gentleman,
My honourable man, are you there too?
You and your hot desire? Your mercy sir,
I had forgot your greatnesse.
Jul.
Tis not wel Lady.
Mart.
Lord, how I hate this fellow now; how desperately
My stomack stands against him, this base fellow,
This gelded foole!
Jul.
Did you never heare of modesty?
Mart.
Yes, when I heard of you and so believ'd it,
Thou bloodlesse, brainlesse foole.
Vir.
How?
Mart.
Thou despis'd foole,
Thou onely sign of man, how I contemn thee!
Thou woven worthy in a piece of Arras,
Fit onely to enjoy a wall; thou beast
Beaten to use; Have I preserv'd a beauty,
A youth, a love, to have my wishes blasted?
My dotings, and the ioyes I came to offer,
Must they be lost, and sleighted by a dormouse?
Jul.
Use more respect; and woman, twill become you;
At least, lesse tongue.
Mart.
Ile use all violence,
Let him look for't.
Jul.
Dare you staine those beauties,
Those Heavenly stamps, that raise men up to wonder,
With harsh and crooked motions? are you she
That overdid all ages, with your honour;
And in a little houre dare lose this triumph?
Is not this man your husband?
Mart.
He's my halter;
Which (having sued my pardon) I fling off thus,
And with him all I brought him, but my anger;
Which I wil nourish to the desolation,
Not onely of his folly, but his friends,
And his whole name.
Vir.
Tis wel, I have deservd it.
And if I were a woman, I would raile too.
Mart.
Nature nere promis'd thee a thing so Noble.
Take back your love, your vow, I give it freely;
I poorly scorn it; graze now where you please:
That that the dulnesse of thy soule neglected,
Kings sue for now. And mark me, Virolet;
Thou image of a man, observe my words well.
At such a bloody rate Ile sell this beauty,
This handsomnesse thou scornst, and flingst away,
Thy proud ungrateful life shal shake at: take your house;
The petty things you left me give another;
And last, take home your trinket: fare you wel, sir.
Ron.
You have spoke like your selfe;
Y'are a brave Lady.
Exeunt Ronvere and Martia.
Jul.
Why do you smile, sir?
Vir.
O my Juliana,
The happinesse this womans scorn has given me,
Makes me a man again; proclaimes it selfe,
In such a generall joy, through all my miseries,
That now methinks—
Jul.
Looke to your selfe deere sir,
And trifle not with danger, that attends you;
Be joyfull when y'are free.
Vir.
Did you not heare her?
She gave me back my vow, my love, my freedom;
I am free, free as aire; and though to morrow
Her bloody wil meet with my life, and sink it,
And in her execution teare me peecemeale:
Yet have I time once more to meet my wishes,
Once more to embrace my best, my noblest, truest;
And time that's warranted.
Iul.
Good sir, forbeare it:
Though I confesse, equall with your desires
My wishes rise, as covetous of your love,
And to as warm alarams spur my wil to:
Yet pardon me, the Seal oth' Church dividing us,
And hanging like a threatning flame between us;
We must not meet, I dare not.
Vir.
That poore disjoynting
That onely strong necessity thrust on you;
Not crime, nor studied cause of mine: how sweetly,
And nobly I wil bind again and cherish;
How I wil recompence one deare imbrace now,
One free affection! how I burn to meet it!
Looke now upon me.
Jul.
I behold you willingly,
And willingly would yield, but for my credit.
The love you first had was preserv'd with honour,
The last shal not cry whore; you shal not purchase
From me a pleasure, that have equally
Lov'd your faire fame as you, at such a rate:
Your honesty and vertue must be banquerout,
If I had lov'd your lust, and not your lustre;
The glorious lustre of your matchlesse goodnesse;
I would compel you now to be!—forgive me,
Forgive me sir; how fondly stil I love you!
Yet Nobly too; make the way straight before me,
And let but holy Hymen once more guide me,
Under the Ax upon the Rack again,
Even in the bed of all afflictions,
Where nothing sings our Nuptials but dire sorrows,
With all my youth and pleasure Ile imbrace you,
Make tyranny and death stand stil affrighted,
And at our meeting foules amaze our mischiefes;
Til when, high Heaven defend you, and peace guide you.
Be wise and manly, make your fate your own,
By being master of a providence,
That may controle it.
Vir.
Stay a little with me,
My thoughts have chid themselves: may I not kisse you?
Upon my truth I am honest.
Jul.
I believe ye;
But yet what that may raise in both our fancies,
40
Vir.
I obey you,
And take my leave as from the Saint that keeps me.
I will be right again, and once more happy
In thy unimitable love.
Jul.
Ile pray for ye,
And when you fall I have not long to follow.
Exeunt.
Enter Sesse, Master, Boteswaine, and Gunner, at one doore: Martia and Ronvere, at another.
Ses.
Now we have got free credit with the Captaine.
Mast.
Soft, soft, he's here again: Is not that Lady—
Or have I lost mine eyes? a salt rhume seizes 'em;
But I should know that face.
Bots.
Make him not madder,
Let him forget the woman; steere a lar boord.
Mast.
He will not kill her.
Bots.
Any thing he meets;
He's like a Hornet now, he hums, and buzzes;
Nothing but blood and horror.
Mast.
I would save the Lady,
For such another Lady.
Bots.
There's the point;
And you know there want women of her mettle.
Mast.
Tis true, they bring such children now,
Such demilances,
Their fathers socks wil make them Christning clothes.
Gun.
No more, they view us.
Ses.
You shal play a while,
And sun your selfe in this felicity,
You shal you glorious whore; I know you still.
But I shal pick an houre when most securely—
I say no more.
Ron.
Do you see those? those are they
Shall act your will; come hither my good fellows:
You are now the Kings. Are they not goodly fellows?
Mart.
They have bone enough, if they have stout heart to it.
Mast.
Still the old wench.
Sess.
Pray Captaine, let me aske you
What Noble Lady's that? tis a rude question,
But I desire to know.
Ron.
She is for the King, sir;
Let that suffice for answer.
Sess.
Is she so sir?
In good time may she curse it.
Must I breed hackneys for his grace?
Ron.
What wouldst thou do
To merit such a Ladies favour?
Sess.
Any thing.
Ron.
That can supply thy wants, and raise thy fortuns?
Ses.
Let her command, and see what I dare execute.
I keep my conscience here; if any man
Oppose her wil, and she would have him humbled,
Whole families between her and her wishes—
Mast.
We have seen bleeding throats sir, Cities sackt,
And infants stuck upon their Pikes.
Botes.
Houses a fire, and handsome mothers weeping.
Ses.
Which we have heaped upon the pile like sacrifices.
Churches and Altars, Priests and all devotions,
Tumbled together into one rude Chaos.
Gun.
We know no feare sir, but want of imployment.
Sess.
Nor other faith but what our purses preach.
To gain our ends we can do any thing,
And turn our soules into a thousand figures;
But when we come to do—
Mart.
I like these fellowes.
Ron.
Be ready and waite here within this houre
Ile shew you to the King, and he shall like ye:
And if you can devise some entertainment
To fill his mirth, such as your Countrey uses,
Present it, and Ile see it grac'd.
After this Comicke Scene we shall imploy you,
For one must die.
Sess.
What is he sir? speak boldly,
For we dare boldly do.
Ron.
This Ladies husband;
His name is Virolet.
Ses.
We shall dispatch it.
Exit Martia, Ronvere
O damned, damned thing: a base whore first,
And then a murtherer; Ile look to you.
Bots.
Can she be grown so strange?
Ses.
She has an itch;
Ile scratch you my deare daughter, Ile so claw you;
Ile curry your hot hide; married and honour'd?
And turn those holy blessings into brothels?
Your beauty into blood? Ile hunt your hotnesse.
Ile hunt you like a traine.
Mast.
We did all pity her.
Ses.
Hang her, she is not worth mans memory;
She's false and base, and let her fright all stories.
Wel, though thou beest mine enemy, Ile right thee,
And right thee Nobly.
Bots.
Faith sir, since she must goe,
Let's spare as few as may be.
Ses.
We'l take all,
And like a torrent sweep the slaves before us.
You dare endure the worst?
Mast.
You know our hearts sir,
And they shal bleed the last, erst we start from ye.
Gun.
We can but die, and ere we come to that,
We shal pick out some few examples for us.
Ses.
Then wait the first occasion, and like Curtius,
Ile leap the gulph before you, fearlesse leap it:
Then follow me like men, and if our vertues
May boy our Countrey up, and set her shining
In her first state; our fair revenges taken,
We have our Noble ends, or else our ashes.
Exeunt.
| The double Marriage | |