 | A Merrie and Pleasant Comedy : Never before Printed, called A Shoo-maker a Gentleman |  |
Act. 1.
Enter Allured wounded, Elred, Offa, and the Queene.Alarum.
King.
Away, stand off, prop not a falling Castle with
Your weake strength, tis sinfull Charity, and
Desperate folly to meet a mischiefe, whose
Entertainment is assur'd destruction: leave me
I pray savegard your owne lives.
Queen.
Oh Royall Sir, tis you that doe dispaire,
Wounds are not alwaies mortall.
Ellred.
Deare sir let them be drest:
King.
You tire me out of breath with vaine delaies, as well
May you give life unto a stone, a sencelesse statue;
My lifes but lent to bid you shun your deaths, and in that too
Heavens mercy is miraculous, yet you will not heare me:
Declining Majesty; then as a husband, and a Father here;
Dost thou love me?
Quee.
Approve it in my death, if thou mistrust it Allured.
King.
Have you duty, you Phænix of my age, for though
Two persons be distinguishable, yet ought there be but one
Combined heart in your fraternall union, your knees promise.
Both.
Our duties are much lower.
King.
Then here I charge yee for to leave the Field,
Fly from death, hee's now in persuite of yee:
Fly from the Tyrant, for this unhappy day
Those bloody Persecutors Maximinus, and Dioclesian,
Display their by neckt Eagle over Brittaine,
While she lyes under as a bleeding prey,
One Talent here is fastned.
Enter Amphiabell, and Sir Hugh.
Hugh.
Fly Noble Princes, wee have stood out the utmost
Of the day, till hope had lost his anchorage,
Therefore fly, and seeke some other day for victory.
Amphi.
How fares the King?
Al.
Ene one the Virge of Blisse, O deare Amphiabell.
Noble Sir Hugh, what more could I have wisht, then breath
To thanke your kind assistance in this haplesse day:
Oh take an equall jonyter with my Sonnes, from this cold Oracle
All I bequeath is Counsell for your safety, fly the slaughter,
For dying men are halfe Propheticall, if you abide
A longer stay you fall: oh doe not make me guilty of your deaths
That drew you hither to expire your breaths, this path I
Progresse but avoyde my way, you neede not haste
To an assured danger: Farewell my love, my blessing here
Shall fall, performe my will, else Fate avert it all:
Thou canst not boast grim death: I did not yeeld,
Nor fell by Agues, but like a King ith'field.
Quee.
Aye me distressed Queene.
Amphi.
Your griefe's incurable, remember the will of your dead Lord,
And you Royall youths must seeke some shelter to secure
Your lives; away, tis all our Fates.
Elr.
I could better dye on him that slew my Father.
Offa.
Take my company in that, deare Brother.
Qu.
So make a Mother prove unnaturall, I will defend the foe
Through this breast you passe unto him, have yee forgot your Father?
El.
No, wee'l reveng his death:
Quee.
And kill your Mother first.
Hugh.
What thinke yee Princes, that we left behind
The smallest attome of a seeming hope, when wee
Forsooke the field, youle not thinke so?
Elr.
Whats your Counsell?
Am.
Take on some course disguise, what poverty ist
But will be rich, being your lives protection.
Offa.
Instruct and ayde us some superior power,
Which dost behold our forc'd necessity
Eld.
Brother, it shall be thus; some poore Souldier slaine in the
Battaile will we change habits with: so it may be thought
That wee are slaine, and stay the bloody Inquisition.
Offa.
Tis well advis'd, weele not assay to mend it:
This effected Mother, weele come and take our leaves.
Eld.
What for your selfe Madam?
Qu.
Here will I stay, untill my eyes like briny Pyoners
With their continuall Cadence, have digg'd up
A woefull Sepulcher, for these sweet Corps;
And if these sterrill Founts prove weake, and dry,
Here will I kneele till death has cloyd his Gorge,
And left the putrifaction, the mortall dampe
Shall kisse me to his company for ever.
Am.
Oh Madam, these are but fruitlesse apprehensions,
And savoureth not of that discreet vertue hath beene ever in you:
Your story hath been fild with Temperance, Care, and Patience,
And all these forbid this barren Sacrifice, loose not your selfe
In the great losse of your deare Husband,
Hugh.
Madam, if you dare trust your person to my protection,
I will Conduct you safe into North Wales,
A petty Royalty: Thither if please you wend,
Weele either keepe or loose our selves with you.
Am.
Alas Sir Hugh, little can you promise of safety there.
For from faire Winifred, the onely Daughter, and Heire
To Dun-wallis, I have receiv'd too true intelligence;
The Barbarous Romans have supplanted peace,
Putting to sword, and torture all, that beare the
Name of Christians: Nay, even the right Amphiabell
Did hold is now so ruinate, I have not left
One Subject to command.
Hugh.
Heard you this from vertuous Winifred?
Am.
Much more of woe, the vertuous Maid her selfe
Hath left off State, forsaken Royalty,
And keepes a Court so solitary, as it seemes
Within a cry, follow, follow.
More like a Cloyster, then a Royall Pallace.
Harke, our enemies persue us, if we stay
Wee must resolve for death.
Hugh.
Madam, either injoyne us for your safe Conduct along
With us, or heere defend your life to the last breath?
Qu.
Neither I beseech you gentlemen, will yee accept a poore widdowes
Thankes, for all your loves, tis a thin gratitude;
But tis all I have; I beseech yee haste away,
If you doe other, Ile not thanke you for't.
For here Ile stay, and warme this cold remainder,
Vntill some fiend, sent from the infernall pit,
Doth seperate by force, what Heaven hath knit.
Hugh.
Then to the best protection of the Heavens,
Wee leave you to be comforted.
Exit.
Qu.
That shelter cover you.
Enter Eldred, and Offa.
Eld.
Come deare Brother, these poore habilliments may find
Surer footing, than the rich Robes which Royalty is clad in:
If they doe, weele blesse the happy Transformation.
Mother, your blessing; nothing else wee want
Qu.
Take it, O take it in an houre of sorrow, but leave that all with me,
So you have all I can bestow upon you:
follow, within follow.
But mentally, Ile still be blessing of you, and never cease
Harke, tis time you'r gone, away; I charge yee on your duties.
Offa.
But wheres your owne safety?
Qu.
Leave me, and haste you hence I say,
Ile take my blessing off if you delay,
And plant my curse instead; Eldred, and Offa, you'r my Sonnes,
I charge you to obey me.
Eld.
Eldred and Offa are already gone, for with our habits we
Have chang'd our names, when such you heare of,
Oh let your prayers still blesse them, with happy memory.
Qu.
Ile never part with that remembrance:
Obey me and bee gone.
Offa.
With constant hope, that though vaild honor beare an
Ecliptick staine, our sunne will passe it, and shine bright againe
Exit.
Qu.
So, now come you Tyrants, here you shall find me
Praying for curses on your cruelty.
A Flourish. Enter Maximinus, Dioclesian, Leodice, Albon, Bassianus, and Rutullus.
Max.
Now equal Cæsar, brave Dioclesian, the daies at leasure
To returne thee thanks for ayding Maximinus in these warres,
In happy time thy succour came from France,
To make us Conquerors of Brittaine, which else might
Yet have beene a doubtfull day: when thou want'st ayde,
Bid Maximinus come with this joynt force,
Weele make the world our owne.
Dio.
Rome shall not loose its name, the worlds Commander
Till this knot unties; perpetuall be it, till Rome erects
Our golden Statues, plac'd by Saturne, and great Iupiter,
And there be deified, to blesse all those which may succeed:
But in these designes, let us remember high deserving
Albon, whose valuor was not seconded this day
By any single Arme.
It was the best, the shout and full applause
Was onely Albons, for which unto thy Knighthood late
Given in Rome, we adde the stewardship of Great Brittaine
Vnder Maximinus, and Dioclesian: goe to thy Barony
Of Verrolam, two legions there shall still attend one thee,
To quell and persecute these Christians:
Who will not stoope unto our Roman God,
Shall feele the stroake of our revengfull Rod.
Al.
Albon shall still as substitute to Rome
Observe, and keepe her high imperiall Doome.
Max.
Bassianus, be you Competitor with Lord Albon,
And with severity, through the conquer'd Cities persue
The Christians to their Martyrdomes:—Whose that?
Qu.
Ile answer for my selfe; Tyrant a Christian, a husbandlesse
And Childlesse Christian, yet one so daring unto misery,
She throwes a Chalenge, to the worst thou canst,
Defiance to thee thus; Oh were it poyson to swell this
Tyrants bosome till it burst, and fall thus low.
Max.
Ha ha ha, misery makes her desperate, thou add'st a
Triumph woman to our state, to brandish forth such
Fruitlesse Menaces; to Prison with her, weele thinke of
Further torments: Ile prostetute thy body to some Slave,
And if the issue prosper, make him a Hang-man.
Qu.
And such an other may thy Daughter have.
Leo.
Choose for your selfe Lady, I have an eye to pleasure
My selfe?
Max.
Weele hold no dispute with women, away with her:
Rochester Castle shall be your pallace? you'r like to keepe
A hard House on't.
Qu.
Like the Court thou keepst.
Max.
No more words, away with her.
Qu.
My words Ile better spend in Prayers to Heaven,
But if I chance to Curse, Ile thinke on thee:
My Royall Plants, Heaven guard from their full gripe,
Fall Fate on me, my time and dayes are ripe.
Exit.
Dio.
Oh Brother Cæsar, in this Brittish calme weele pas agen
Over to stormy France, the Gothes, and Vandalls have outpast
Must be to reverberate, and drive them to Confined
Germany, while you persever, with an awfull hand,
To keepe our conquer'd foes beneath your feet; give not those
Frighted Welch-men time to breath:
But if agen you doubt of what you can, you know your
Friend cald Dioclesian?
Max.
Your words are mine if you have need in France, weele Feast,
And bring you to the Brittish shore, then part unto our worke.
Our Daughter Leodice, weele leave to keep her court at Canterbury,
Rutullus, take it to your charge, to see erected one the
Conspicuous promonts of our Land, Beacons, which may stand
In ken of other, by whose suddaine fiers on the least
invasion, we may be cald to Armes.
Rut.
It shall be done.
Dio.
A carefull Policy, bee my Tutor to teach me Military Discipline,
Fly Brason Oratrix, all lingued fame,
And tell at Rome of Maximinus name:
Say Dioclesian too will bring a Crowne,
To bind thy seven fold Head with high Renowne:
Flourish.
Say like two Ioves, when our Dread Thunders hurl'd,
Our sable Eagle strikes through all the world.
Exeunt omn.
Enter discover'd in a Shop a Shoo-maker, his Wife spinning, Barnaby, two Iournimen.
Shoo.
Good boyes, fine knaves, yerke it home, good ware will away,
When bad lyes dead on our hands, there's no thrift in that;
Spin a faire thread Sisly, let not my journimen want,
The Warres has lam'd many of my old Customers, they cannot
Goe a hie lone, bad world for us, but a wet winter, will weare
Out Shoo-leather, and make amends,
Weele cut it out if it doe Boyes?
Bar.
Your journimen shall mount then Master, for my foots in the Stirrop
Already, ply your worke Mistresse, we alwaies bring
Your labours to good ends Ile warrant yee.
Sis.
Why Barnaby, thou seest I am at defiance with my worke
Shoo.
Good wench Sisly, there shall no Cornes grow on thy toes
For that, thy shooes shall be large enough,
Finely shalt thou goe, and tread upon Neates Leather.
Bar.
Ile eate the feet if she doe Master;
Wife.
Eate my feet goodman knave?
Shoo.
Misconstruction Sis, thou mistakes Barnaby, heele eate
Neates feet, none of thine; but Beefe shall be thy foode boy,
As good as the Major of Feversham cuts on's Trencher,
And Drinke as strong as the Statute affords.
Bar.
Statutes are strong, Master, therefore we should have strong drinke:
I had rather weare Lace by the Statute, than drinke if it be small.
Shoo.
Good drinke in thy throat if thou speak'st in earnest:
But Ralph, what price beares Ballets? no Musicke in Feversham?
Ralph.
Faith sir your statute Beere has taken my pipe
A hole too low, it cannot reach Ela.
Shoo.
Ile have that fault mended boy, but we must drink strong
drinke, as we shew our Religion, privately.
Bar.
I am afraide there will be too many Christians sir,
Because many use to goe a Pilgrimage Bare-foot;
And that's an ill wind for our profit.
Shoo.
No more talke of ill winds Barnaby, weele sing away sorrow
Strike up Ralph, Ile wash thy whistle anon boy.
Ralph.
Well sir, Ile scoure it first if I can then,
Sings.
Enter Crispianus, and Crispinus.
El.
Brother, heer's a life to mocke at state, and staine her surly
Greatnesse: who would venture to walke upon the Icy path
Of Royalty, that here might find a footing so secure:
Heer's harmony indeed, a fearelesse sport,
A joy our young yeares seld, has at Court.
Offa.
I Brother, would we were of this Fellowship.
El.
Dost thinke we could forget our former ease
And fall to labour?
Offa.
Why not? that was not without troubles of the mind,
And methinkes to exchange for the bodies labour, were a farre
Freer good; to sing with homely cheere,
El.
Weele put it then in practice, heaven grant we may
Find entertainement: good speede unto your labours Gentlemen.
Sho.
Gentlemen, we are good fellowes no Gent. yet if gentlenes
Make Gentility we are Gentlemen: My pretty youths,
Would you ought with us you speake so friendly?
El.
No more then we shall deserve sir.
Wife.
And you are worthy of that ifaith.
El.
Sir, wee are youths whom the rough hand of Warre hath ruin'd,
And made desolate, our friends and meanes are parted from us,
Our friend's in Heaven, our meanes within the gripe of enemies
Both in accessuble thus much we are, Fatherlesse, friendlesse;
Succourlesse and forlorne, what we may be, lyes yet within
The grant of some kind Master, that may instruct us in
Some honest Trade, to get our living by.
Shoo.
Pretty spoken youths by Saint Anthony,
How dost thou like them Sisly?
Wife.
Yes truely husband, if they will doe as well as they say,
I like 'em very well; good faces as faces goes now a dayes.
Prethee sweet heart be kind to 'em, and entertaine 'em
If they like our Trade.
Bar.
Oh good Master entertaine 'em, we want junior prentises
For under worke.
Ralph.
Doe sir, keepe good faces in your shop?
Twill draw the Custome of pretty wenches the better.
Shoo.
House-keeping's chargeable, men must have good meat.
Wife.
They will worke and earne their meat Ile warrant yee.
Shoo.
What are yee, Bretheren?
Both.
In love and nature sir, the neerest Bretheren.
Wife.
Tis pitty they should be parted then, if they love so well.
Shoo.
Your Names?
Chris.
Chrispianus mine.
Crispi.
Mine Crispinus.
Shoo.
Good names, good names, well boyes on this condition
I will entertaine you, I neede not doubt your truths, and
Honesty, you have such faire and promising out sides:
But I must have you bound for seaven yeares, and then
Both.
Withall our hearts,
And happy are we in your kind acceptance.
Sho.
You shall be mine, then give 'em entertainment Barnaby.
Bar.
New Aprons and Capps here, for a Couple of Gent.
So on with your Breast plate, this Cap makes thee a graduate,
You are come amongst Bacularious, beare up your heads boyes,
Weele teach yee to bristle, wax better and better, last to
The 12, then set foot in the stirop and have at all.
Shoo.
Shew them their tooles, and give them entrance Barnaby
Enter Rutullus and Souldiers, bearing the Queene to Prison.
Qu.
Sir, I have not beene us'd to this hard travell,
If you dare mittigate your Masters Cruelty,
And let me rest a little, ile thanke you for it.
Rut.
Tis not in our Commission, but Ile dispence a little.
Shoo.
Who is this I pray sir?
Rut.
The Queene going to Prison, to Rochester Castle,
Doe you not know her?
Shoo.
Alacke, alacke.
Qu.
My eyes are not deceaved, they are my Children.
Cris.
Tis our Mother Offa, take heed our teares do not discover.
Cri.
Pray heaven they do not, I fear my eyes wil be kind traitors.
Qu.
Dare ye be so kind, to afford a distressed woman a stoole?
Wife.
I dare doe that Madam, Crispinus, reach a stoole.
Qu.
On thy knee Child, why dost thou kneele to me?
Cri.
Tis my duty Madam, misery hath not chang'd your name,
Tho bated of your power, you are my Queene still.
Qu.
Heaven blesse thee for't, I have stolne thee a blessing.
Wouldst thou adde something too?
Cri.
I would bee as Dutifull as my Brother, Madam.
Qu.
Is he thy Brother, blessing on you both:
This was a happinesse beyond my hope, that I should once more Blesse
My Children really, keepe in thou womans frailty,
Griefe Chayne my Tongue, least thou betray the utmost
Of my hopes, my teares may find excuse.
Rut.
Why weepes those boyes?
Cris.
Alas Sir, 'tis oft times the barren fruits of subjects
Loves, when they behold their Prince; but much more
Them throwne to misery.
Rut.
You're very kind
Wife.
Kind boyes they are, indeed they shall fare neare the worse,
I could e'ne weepe my selfe, to see my boyes so kind hearted.
Rut.
Madam, you doe but trouble 'em, and win some drops
From them, that they would spare if you were absent.
Qu.
Tis your trouble sir, they could be content with this kind
Expence, a longer sojourne, but you instruct me well:
Farewell, I can but thanke yee, that's all I have
To give for your kind youths—what will my tongue doe.
Pray use them well, so much the more cause
They were kind to mee.
Rut.
Madam will you goe?
Qu.
We talke of no stay, let not your hast make me
Unthankfull pray, and barre my thankes for kindnesse,
But I have done: On to my house of woe, yet since we must,
Delay the more annoyes this comfort, yet heaven to my sorrowes gives,
In midst of Tyranny my children lives.
Exit.
Wife.
The world treads not upright, methinkes
It had neede of a good workeman to mend it.
Sho.
Peace Sisly, no problems, no figures, no womans Rhetorick,
The tongue may undoe the whole body, Tausume, there
Is Greeke for yee wife, let us keepe good consciences with in doores
How ere the wind blowes abroad, tis honester deceite
To seeme bad and be good, than to seeme pure and be a knave,
Goe too, good soles will carry out bad upper leathers,
Tis a bad time I can tell yee, but why were my boyes
So passiionate, to weepe at the Queenes distresse.
Cris.
Alas sir, who could chuse, passion me thought
Did make me apprehend strange fantasies, I made
The case mine owne, suppos'd my Mother had bin
Hal'd to Prison; some would have pittyed her, though
But a meane woman, much more at such a Soveraignes fall.
Cri.
I Brother, and suppose her Sonnes, though Royall,
Had seene our mother as we saw her, in Princely compassion
Perhaps they would have done the like.
Cris.
No doubt, nay Master without offence, it was your fault too,
Shoo.
Good faith thou sayst true, I could doe no lesse, neither
Doe I discommend yee for it, tis a good bosom where mercy dwells.
Wife.
I, their Compassion of women shall loose 'em nothing,
If they be but dutifull to their Master, and just to their Dame.
Shoo.
Enough of Ceremony: Whats a clocke Barnaby?
Bar.
The chimes of my belly has gone, it should be past twelve.
Shoo.
Provide dinner Sir, Master, journimen, and Prentises,
One Table serves for all; wee feed as all fellowes;
Shut up shop, this is afternoone's holy-day in honour of
My two new Prentises, and this caveat for all, keepe your
Bosomes lockt, we may be good Christians, but not shew it
Abroad, lesse in our Charity in times of bloud
When tyrants Reigne, tis dangerous to be good.
Exeunt.
Enter Winifred in a blacke vaile, Amphiabell, Saint Hugh, Howell and Lords.
Soft Musick.
Win.
Cease, cease, it is too loude, this tel-tale noise betrayes
Our privacy, which we desire more than thronging Visitants,
What is it you would have of me, ile give my state to any of yee all,
Take it away, and give me here onely my selfe to Governe;
More is too much to impose on my poore weaknesse.
Hugh.
That is too much Sweet Lady, doe not taske your happy vertues
To so hard a proofe, there is no strict injunction seal'd,
To barre the passage to a Nuptiall Bed, that is a statute by
Selfe will decreed, to make Hymen a bond slave.
Win.
O good Sir Hugh, how long have you lay'd a fruitles siege
Vnto a Fort that is impregnable; I thanke yee, and must needes
Acknowledge my love, if I had such a Lunacy, to be a debt
To you, you have deserv'd it were it worth Receite.
Lord.
Then give desert his due? leave of these nice poynts of cold
Virginity, and warme affection in the sweet imbraces
Of a Noble Husband, fitter for your state than this Cloyster habit.
Hugh.
So shall you win a second power to yours, this Noble Prince
VVill with a husband be a strong defence
Against your enemies.
Lor.
Adde to necessity, a proved Loyalty, a love that will not
Win.
No more, no more I pray, whyle sure my foes would not
This Cruell be, to incounter me at such unequall odds,
So many Souldiers 'gainst a silly woman, you cannot call
This Conquest if yee win: I claime the Law of Armes,
A friendly parley ere the Battaile joyne, the time
Let it be now; I crave the friendly Respite of a moneth,
Meane time, let me heare no more Love Alarmes, then will
I either yeeld yee up the Fort, or stand in the defiance.
Lord.
So so sir Hugh, there is now some hope.
Hugh.
A promising faire hope, more than my three yeares service
Had before, a moneth sweet Beauty, O let it be more to shew
My love weares humble Constancy, let it be two, or three.
Win.
I take you at your word, it shall be three sir Hugh, in which time,
I locke, by vertue of this hand and tonge, your hand from any
Suite that sounds but love, you shall not name the word
Within my Presence, tis breach of peace if yee doe.
Hugh.
You have lockt the Closset and keepe the Key of it.
Lord.
Come then sir Hugh, since you have trust with love,
Lets deale with Armes another while, that when our foes
Come, they may perceive that we expect 'em.
Hugh
My Lifes my Countries, and Ile offert for them:
Three moneths I goe a banisht man from hence,
yet this Ile borrow from beautious excellence,
When my white Plume shall in the field be spread,
My word of courage shall be Winifred.
Exeunt Hugh & Lords.
Win.
Alas good Prince, I can but pitty thee,
And grieve because my pittie's pittilesse;
Like a misers Almes, God helpe; without Charity:
For I shall never quite thy labouring love.
No Prince Amphiabell, you have wedded me to a Celestiall
Bridegroome, you have taught my ignorance a knowing intellect:
Tis well begun, and who would not persevere
To Love that love that lives, and lasts for ever?
Am.
I come to strengthen you faire Winifred, so to continue
I hope I neede not, yet not so strictly to Virginity
As to the Christian Faith; for Wedlocke is an ordinance from Heaven,
In this chast Wedlocke, doth the Conquest win,
She knowes the tree forbid, it will not sinne.
Win.
But I have made a vow, thinke then what danger a relapse
Would be, and you will grant my best Virginity;
And I will further shew what Heaven hath done,
To ayde my female Resolution, you then will bid
Me crosse the booke of love, and Reade of nothing
But that text above.
Am.
You promist me no lesse.
Win.
Ile make it good:
See, you this spring, here a pretty streame begins his head,
So late it was a parching drought had ceas'd our verdant grasse,
Here did I sit in Contemplation, lifting to Heaven my Orisons
For present succour, but swifter then my thought,
All Potent Heaven a Miracle had wrought:
That Barren seeming Ground brought forth a Spring
Of such sweet waters, as it had not beene curst i'th' old worlds
Deluge, I caus'd it then thus to be digg'd and fram'd
By hand of men, and comming still to see it as before,
A Heavenly shape appear'd, and blest it more;
Gave it that power as heaven had so assign'd,
To cure diseases, helpe the lame and blind:
For which poore people their poore thanks to tell,
Musicke.
Calls as I would not, Winifreds Well.
Am.
Tis wonderfull!
Win.
Harke, these sounds did I heare when that Celestiall
Body did appeare, let us with Reverence attend aloofe,
Your eye or eare shall have a further proofe.
Enter, an Angell ascends out of the Well, and after descends againe.
Ang.
With this the signe that holy Christians weare,
When in the Field their Standers they up Reare
Against the foes of Heaven; with this Tipe,
That when they receive the Seale Regenerate,
This hallowed spring, who seekes Redresse with a beleeving heart,
Here he shall find ease, take power to cure the
Leaprous disease, give leggs unto the Cripple, blind their Sight,
So that their blessings be receiv'd aright:
To misbeleevers turne into a curse,
Who seekes a Cure in scorne, disease him worse;
This Heaven hath done for truth, it is but young,
And needes a Miracle to make her strong,
The time will come when men shall here not see,
Then let the world expresse fidelity:
Good Prayers have power to fetch an Angell downe,
And give a mortall an Immortall Crowne.
Musicke heere descends.
Am.
I neede no more confirme yee beauteous Maid,
My selfe ile taske unto some dangerous end,
Ile take disguise, and straight to Verolome
And to the face of persecuting Albon
Our friend and fellow Knight, ile tell his curse
If he persist in Barbarous Cruelty,
Ile throw my life in hazard, if I fall,
Tell Christians keepe my true memoriall.
Win.
Which first leave here with me, you shall doe well,
Here will I keepe my Court, here will I dwell,
Here let the Roman Tyrant shed my bloud,
Here they shall find me doing all the good
A poore wretch can, what heaven has blest before,
I as a second meanes will helpe the poore.
Am.
To that I leave thee most vertuous maid,
Oh might it of Amphiabell bee said;
His good intendment had so happy end,
To make a Christian of a blouddy fiend,
I come to trie thee Albon.
Win.
Oh may it prove.
Am.
Thus wee depart Lady.
Win.
Where meete, it is decreed above.
Exit.
| A Merrie and Pleasant Comedy : Never before Printed, called A Shoo-maker a Gentleman | |