 | The Lovers Melancholy |  |
Actus II.
Scena I.
Enter Sophronos and Aretus.Sophronos.
Ovr Common-wealth is sick: tis more then time
That wee should wake the Head thereof, who sleepes
In the dull Lethargy of lost security.
The Commons murmur, and the Nobles grieue,
The Court is now turn'd Anticke, and growes wilde,
Whiles all the neighb'ring Nations stand at gaze,
And watch fit oportunity, to wreake
Their iust conceiued fury, on such iniuries,
As the late Prince, our liuing Masters Father,
Committed against Lawes of truth or honour.
Intelligence comes flying in on all sides,
Whilest the vnsteady multitude presume,
How that you, Aretus, and I, ingrosse
(Out of particular Ambition)
Th'affaires of gouernment, which I for my part,
Groane vnder, and am weary of.
Aret.
Sophronos,
I am as zealous too of shaking of
My gay State fetters, that I haue bethought
Of speedy remedy; and to that end
Corax, the Princes chiefe Physician.
Soph.
You should haue done this sooner, Aretus;
You were his Tutor, and could best discerne
His dispositions to informe them rightly.
Aret.
Passions of violent nature, by degrees
Are easili'st reclaim'd. There's something hid
Of his distemper, which wee'l now find out.
Enter Corax, Rhetias, Pelias, Cuculus and Grilla.
You come on iust appointment: welcome, Gentlemen,
Haue you won Rhetias (Corax?)
Cora.
Most sincerely.
Cucul.
Saue yee, Nobilities: doe your Lordships
take notice of my Page? Tis a fashion of the newest
edition, spick and span new, without example. Doe your
honour, Houswife.
Grill.
There's a cursey for you, and a cursey for you.
Soph.
Tis excellent: we must all follow fashion, and
entertaine Shee-waiters.
Aret.
'Twill be Courtly.
Cucul.
I thinke so; I hope the Chronicles will reare
me one day for a head-piece—
Rhet.
Of Woodcocke without braines in't; Barbers
shall weare thee on their Citternes, and Hucksters set
thee out in Ginger-bread.
Cucul.
Deuill take thee: I say nothing to thee now;
canst let me be quiet?
Gril.
Y'are too perstreperous, Sauce-box.
Cucul.
Good Girle, if we begin to puffe once.
Pel.
Prethee hold thy tongue, the Lords are in the
presence.
Rhet.
Mum, Butterflye.
Pel.
O the Prince: stand and keepe silence.
O the Prince: Wench, thou shalt see the
Prince now.
Soft Musicke.
Enter Pallador, the Prince, with a Booke in his hand.
Soph., Aret.
Sir; Gracious Sir.
Prince.
Why all this Company?
Cora.
A Booke! is this the early exercise
I did prescribe? in stead of following health,
Which all mē couet, you pursue your disease.
Where's your great Horse, your Hounds, your set at Tennis,
Your Balloone ball, the practice of your dancing,
Your casting of the sledge, or learning how
To tosse a Pike; all chang'd into a Sonnet?
Pray Sir grant me free liberty to leaue
The Court, it do's infect me with the sloth
Of sleepe and surfet: In the Vniuersity
I haue imployments, which to my profession
Adde profit and report: Here I am lost,
And in your wilfull dulnesse held a man
Of neither Art nor honesty: you may
Command my head; pray take it, doe; 'twere better
For me to lose it, then to lose my wits,
And liue in Bedlam: you will force me too't,
I am almost mad already.
Prince.
I beleeue it.
Soph.
Letters are come from Creete, which do require
A speedy restitution of such ships,
As by your Father were long since detain'd;
If not; defiance threatned.
Aret.
These neere parts
Of Syria that adioyne, muster their friends:
And by intelligence we learne for certaine,
Of tribute intermitted.
Soph.
Through your Land
Your subiects mutter strangely, and imagine
More then they dare speake publikely.
Cora.
And yet
They talke but odly of you.
Cucul.
Hang 'em Mungrels.
Prince.
Of me? my subiects talke of me?
Cora.
Yes, scuruily,
And thinke worse (Prince.)
Prince.
Ile borrow patience
A little time to listen to these wrongs,
And from the few of you which are here present,
Conceiue the generall voyce.
Cora.
So, now he is nettled.
Prince.
By all your loues I charge ye, without feare
Or flattery, to let me know your thoughts,
And how I am interpreted: Speake boldly.
Soph.
For my part (Sir) I will be plaine, and briefe:
I thinke you are of Nature milde and easie,
Not willingly prouokt, but withall head-strong
In any passion that misleades your Iudgement.
I thinke you too indulgent to such motions,
As spring out of your owne affections,
To old to be reform'd, and yet too young
To take fit councell from your selfe, of what
Is most amisse.
Prince.
So—Tutor, your conceit?
Aret.
I think you doate (with pardon let me speak it)
Too much vpon your pleasures, and these pleasures
Are so wrapt vp in selfe-loue, that you couet
No other change of fortune: would be still
In such affaires of State as breake your sleepes.
Cora.
I thinke you would be by the world, reputed
A man in euery point compleat, but are
In manners and effect indeed a childe,
A boy, a very boy.
Pel.
May it please your Grace,
I thinke you doe containe within your selfe
The great Elixer, soule and quintessence
Of all diuine perfections: are the glory
Of mankind, and the onely strict example
For earthly Monarchies to square out their liues by:
Times miracle, Fames pride, in Knowledge, Wit,
Sweetnesse, Discourse, Armes, Arts—
Prince.
You are a Courtier.
Cucul.
But not of the ancient fashion, an't like your
Highnesse. Tis I; I, that am the credit of the Court,
Noble Prince: and if thou would'st by Proclamation or
Patent, create me Ouerseer of all the Taylers in thy Dominions;
then, then the golden dayes should appeare
againe; bread should be cheaper; fooles should haue
more wit; knaues more honesty; and beggers more
money.
Gril.
I thinke now—
Cucul.
Peace you Squall.
Prince.
You haue not spoken yet.
Cucul.
Hang him, hee'l nothing but raile.
Gril.
Most abominable: out vpon him.
Cora.
Away Cuculus; follow the Lords.
Cucul.
Close Page, close.
They all fall backe, and steale out. Manet Prince and Rhetias.
Prince.
You are somewhat long a thinking.
I doe not thinke at all.
Prince.
Am I not worthy of your thought?
Rhet.
My pitty you are—
But not my reprehension.
Prince.
Pitty?
Rhet.
Yes, for I pitty such to whom I owe seruice,
who exchange their happinesse for a misery.
Prince.
Is it a misery to be a Prince?
Rhet.
Princes who forget their soueraignty, and
yeeld to affected passion, are weary of command. You
had a Father, Sir.
Prince.
Your Soueraigne whiles he liu'd. But what of
him?
Rhet.
Nothing. I onely dar'd to name him; that's
all.
Prince.
I charge thee by the duty that thou ow'st vs,
be plaine in what thou meanest to speake: there's something
that we must know: be free, our eares are open.
Rhet.
O Sir, I had rather hold a Wolfe by the eares,
then stroake a Lyon, the greatest danger is the last.
Prince.
This is meere trifling—Ha? are all stollen hence?
We are alone: Thou hast an honest looke,
Thou hast a tongue, I hope, that is not oyld
With flattery. Be open, though tis true,
That in my younger dayes I oft haue heard
Agenors name, my Father, more traduc'd,
Then I could then obserue; yet I protest,
I neuer had a friend, a certaine friend,
That would informe me throughly of such errors,
As oftentimes are incident to Princes.
Rhet.
All this may be. I haue seene a man so curious
in feeling of the edge of a keene knife, that he has cut his
fingers. My flesh is not of proofe against the metall I
Prince.
I see then I must court thee. Take the word
Of a iust Prince for any thing thou speakest.
I haue more then a Pardon, thankes and loue.
Rhet.
I will remember you of an old Tale that somthing
concernes you. Meleander, the great (but vnfortunate
Statesman, was by your Father treated with for a Match
betweene you and his eldest daughter, the Lady Eroclea.
You were both neere of an age. I presume you remember
a Contract, and cannot forget Her.
Prince.
She was a louely beauty: Prethee forward.
Rhet.
To Court was Eroclea brought, was courted by
your Father, not for Prince Palador, as it followed, but
to be made a prey to some lesse noble designe.—
Prince.
Good call it backe agen into thy memory,
Else losing the remainder, I am lost too.
Rhet.
You charme me. In briefe, a Rape, by some
bad Agents, was attempted; by the Lord Meleander
her father rescude, she conuay'd away, Meleander accus'd
of treason, his Land seized, he himselfe distracted and
confined to the Castle where he yet liues. What had
ensude was doubtfull. But your Father shortly after dyed.
Prince.
But what became of faire Eroclea?
Rhet.
She neuer since was heard of.
Prince.
No hope liues then
Of euer, euer seeing her againe.
Rhet.
Sir, I feare I should anger yee. There was, as I
said, an old Tale; I haue now a new one, which may perhaps
season the first with a more delightfull rellish.
Prince.
I am prepar'd to heare, say what you please.
Rhet.
My Lord Meleander falling, on whose fauour
my fortunes relyde, I furnisht my selfe for trauaile, and
a while came to my knowledge.
Prince.
My eare is open to thee.
Rhet.
A young Lady contracted to a noble Gentleman,
as the Lady we last mentioned, and your Highnes
were, being hindred by their iarring Parents, stole from
her home, and was conueyed like a Ship-boy in a Merchant,
from the Countrey where she liu'd, into Corinth
first, and afterwards to Athens; where in much solitarinesse
she liu'd like a Youth almost two yeeres, courted
by all for acquaintance, but friend to none by familiaritie.
Prince.
In habit of a man?
Rhet.
A handsome young man, till within these three
moneths, or lesse, her sweet hearty Father dying some
yeere before, or more, shee had notice of it, and with
much ioy returned home, and as report voyced it, at Athens
enioyed her happinesse: she was long an exile:
For now Noble Sir, if you did loue the Lady Eroclea,
why may not such safety and fate direct her, as directed
the other? tis not impossible.
Prince.
If I did loue her, Rhetias: yes I did.
Giue me thy hand: As thou didst serue Meleander,
And art still true to these, henceforth serue me.
Rhet.
My duty and my obedience are my suretie,
But I haue been too bold.
Prince.
Forget the sadder story of my Father,
And onely Rhetias, learne to reade me well,
For I must euer thanke thee; th'ast vnlockt
A tongue was vow'd to silence, for requitall
Open my bosome, Rhetias.
Rhet.
What's your meaning?
Prince.
To tye thee to an oath of secrecy—
What findst thou there?
Rhet.
A picture in a Tablet.
Prince.
Looke well vpon't.
Rhet.
I doe—yes—let me obserue it—
Tis hers, the Ladies.
Prince.
Whose!
Rhet.
Erocleas.
Prince.
Hers that was once Eroclea: for her sake
Haue I aduanst Sophronos to the Helme
Of gouernment; for her sake will restore
Meleanders Honours to him; will for her sake
Beg friendship from thee, Rhetias. O be faithfull,
And let no politicke Lord worke from thy bosome
My griefes: I know thou wert put on to sift me:
But be not too secure.
Rhet.
I am your Creature.
Prince.
Continue still thy discontented fashion:
Humour the Lords, as they would humour me;
Ile not liue in thy debt.—We are discouer'd.
Enter Amethus, Menaphon, Thamasta, Kala, Eroclea, as before.
Amet.
Honour and health still wait vpon the Prince.
Sir, I am bold with fauour to present
Vnto your Highnes, Menaphon my friend,
Return'd from trauaile.
Mena.
Humbly on my knees
I kisse your gracious hand.
Prince.
It is our duty
To loue the vertuous.
Mena.
If my prayers or seruice
Rhet.
I haue a fist for thee too (Strippling) th'art started
vp prettily since I saw thee. Hast learned any wit abroad?
Canst tell newes, and sweare lyes with a grace like a true
Traueller? What new Owzle's this?
Tham.
Your Highnesse shall doe right to your owne iudgement,
In taking more then common notice of
This stranger, an Athenian, nam'd Parthenophill.
One, (whom if mine opinion doe not sooth me
Too grossely) for the fashion of his minde,
Deserues a deare respect.
Prince.
Your commendations,
Sweet Cousin, speakes him Nobly.
Eroc.
All the powers
That centinell iust Thrones, double these guards
About your sacred Excellence.
Prince.
What fortune led him to Cyprus!
Men.
My perswasions won him.
Amet.
And if your Highnesse please to heare the entrance
Into their first aquaintance, you will say—
Tham.
It was the newest, sweetest, prettiest accident,
That ere delighted your attention.
I can discourse it, Sir.
Prince.
Some other time.
How is a cald?
Tham.
Parthenophill.
Prince.
Parthenophill?
Wee shall sort time to take more notice of him.
Exit. Prince.
Men.
His wonted melancholy still pursues him.
Amet.
I told you so.
Tham.
You must not wonder at it.
Eroc.
I doe not, Lady.
Shall we to the Castle?
Men.
Wee will attend yee both.
Rhet.
All three—Ile goe too. Hark in thine eare,
Gallant: Ile keep the old mad man in chat, whilest thou
gabblest to the girle: my thumb's vpon my lips, not a
word.
Amet.
I neede not feare thee, Rhetias.—Sister, soone
Expect vs: this day wee will range the City.
Tham.
Well, soone I shall expect yee.—Kala?
Kala.
Trust mee.
Rhet.
Troope on—Loue, Loue, what a wonder thou
art?
Exeunt.
Kala and Eroclea stayes.
Kala.
May I not be offensiue, Sir?
Ero.
Your pleasure; yet pray be briefe.
Kala.
Then briefly, good, resolue mee:
Haue you a Mistris, or a Wife?
Ero.
I haue neither.
Kala.
Nor did you euer loue in earnest any
Faire Lady, whom you wisht to make your owne?
Ero.
Not any truly.
Kala.
What your friends or meanes are
I will not be inquisitiue to know,
Nor doe I care to hope for. But admit
A dowre were throwne downe before your choyce,
Of Beauty, Noble birth, and sincere affection,
How gladly would you intertaine it? (Young man)
I doe not tempt you idly.
Ero.
I shall thanke you,
When my vnsettled thoughts can make me sensible
Of what tis to be happy: for the present
I am your debtor: and faire Gentlewoman,
Pray giue me leaue as yet to study ignorance,
—Another time.—
Enter Thamasta.
Tham.
Doe I breake off your Parley
That you are parting? Sure my woman loues you.
Can she speake well, Parthenophill?
Ero.
Yes, Madame:
Discreetly chaste she can: she hath much won
On my beliefe, and in few words, but pithy,
Much moou'd my thankfulnesse. You are her Lady,
Your goodnesse aimes (I know) at her preferment:
Therefore I may be bold to make confession
Of truth, if euer I desire to thriue
In womans fauour. Kala is the first
Whom my ambition shall bend to.
Tham.
Indeed.
But say a Nobler Loue should interpose?
Eroc.
Where reall worth, and constancy first settle
A hearty truth, there greatnesse cannot shake it,
Nor shall it mine: yet I am but an Infant
In that construction, which must giue cleare light
To Kala's merit: riper houres hereafter
Must learne me how to grow rich in deserts.
Madame, my duty waits on you.
Exit Eroclea.
Tham.
Come hither.
If euer henceforth I desire to thriue
In womans fauours, Kala is the first
Whom my ambition shall bend to—'twas so.
Kal.
These very words he spake.
Tham.
These very words
Curse thee, vnfaithfull creature, to thy graue:
Thou wood'st him for thy selfe?
You said I should.
Tham.
My name was neuer mentioned!
Kala.
Madame, no:
We were not come to that.
Tham.
Not come to that?
Art thou a Riuall fit to crosse my Fate?
Now pouerty and a dishonest fame,
The waiting-womans wages, be thy payment.
False, faithlesse, wanton beast, Ile spoile your carriage;
There's not a Page, a Groome, nay, not a Citizen
That shall be cast vpon yee. Kala,
Ile keepe thee in my seruice all thy life time,
Without hope of a husband or a suter.
Kala.
I haue not verily deseru'd this cruelty.
Tham.
Parthenophill shall know, if he respect
My birth, the danger of a fond neglect.
Exit Tham.
Kala.
Are you so quick? Well, I may chance to crosse
Your peeuishnesse. Now though I neuer meant
The young man for my selfe; yet if he loue me,
Ile haue him, or Ile run away with him,
And let her doe her worst then: what, we are all
But flesh and blood; the same thing that will doe
My Lady good, will please her woman too.
Exit.
Enter Cleophila and Trollio.
Cleo.
Tread softly (Trollio) my Father sleepes still.
Troll.
I forsooth: but he sleepes like a Hare with his
eyes open, and that's no good signe.
Cleo.
Sure thou art weary of this sullen liuing,
But I am not; for I take more content
In my obedience here, then all delights
The time presents elsewhere.
within.
Oh!
Cleo.
Do'st heare that groane?
Troll.
Heare it? I shudder, it was a strong blast, young
Mistris, able to roote vp heart, liuer, lungs and all.
Cleo.
My much-wrong'd Father: let me view his face.
Drawes the Arras, Meleander discouered in a chaire sleeping.
Troll.
Lady Mistris, shall I fetch a Barbour to steale
away his rough beard, whiles he sleepes in's naps? He
neuer lookes in a glasse, and tis high time on conscience
for him to bee trimd, has not been vnder the Shauers
hand almost these foure yeeres.
Cleo.
Peace, foole.
Trol.
I could clip the old Ruffian, there's haire enough
to stuffe all the great Codpieces in Switzerland. A begins
to stirre, a stirres. Blesse vs how his eyes rowle. A
good yeere keepe your Lordship in your right wits, I
beseech yee.
Mel.
Cleophila?
Cleo.
Sir, I am here, how d'ee Sir?
Troll.
Sir, is your stomacke vp yet? get some warme
porredge in your belly, 'tis a very good settle-braine.
Mel.
The Rauen croakt, and hollow shreeks of Owles
Sung Dirges at her funerall; I laugh'd
The whiles: for twas no boot to weepe. The Girle
Was fresh and full of youth: but, O the cunning
Of Tyrants that looke bigge, their very frownes
Doome poore soules guilty, ere their cause be heard.
Good. What art thou, and thou?
Cleo.
I am Cleophila,
Your wofull daughter.
Troll.
I am Trollia your honest implement.
Mel.
I know yee both. 'las, why d'ee vse me thus!
That Turtles in their Downe doe feed more gall,
Then her spleene mixt with: yet when winds and storme
Driue dirt and dust on banks of spotlesse snow,
The purest whitenesse is no such defence
Against the sullying foulenesse of that fury.
So rau'd Agenor, that great man, mischiefe
Against the Girle—'twas a politick tricke,
We were too old in Honour.—I am leane
And falne away extremely; most assuredly
I haue not dyn'd these three dayes.
Cleo.
Will you now, Sir?
Troll.
I beseech yee heartily Sir. I feele a horrible
puking my selfe.
Mel.
Am I starke mad?
Troll.
No, no, you are but a little staring.—there's
difference betweene staring and starke mad. You are
but whymsed, yet crotchetted, conundroun'd, or so.
Mel.
Here's all my care: and I doe often sigh
For thee, Cleophyla: we are secluded
From all good people. But take heed, Amethus
Was sonne to Doryla, Agenors Sister.
There's some ill blood about him, if the Surgeon
Haue not been very skilfull to let all out.
Cleo.
I am (alas) too grieu'd to thinke of loue,
That must concerne me least.
Mel.
Sirra, be wise, be wise.
Enter Amethus, Menaphon, Eroclea (as before) and Rhetias.
Troll.
Who I? I will be monstrous and wise immediately.
Welcome, Gentlemen, the more the merrier, Ile
lay the cloth, and set the stooles in a readinesse, for I see
here is some hope of dinner now.
My Lord Meleander, Menaphon your Kinsman
Newly return'd from trauaile, comes to tender
His duty t'ee: to you his loue, faire Mistris.
Men.
I would I could as easily remoue
Sadnesse from your remembrance, Sir, as study
To doe you faithfull seruice—my deare Cousin,
All best of comforts blesse your sweet obedience.
Clo.
One chiefe of 'em (worthy Cousin) liues
In you, and your well-doing.
Men.
This young stranger
Will well deserue your knowledge.
Amet.
For my friends sake,
Lady pray giue him welcome.
Cleo.
He has met it, if sorrowes can looke kindly.
Eroc.
You much honour me.
Rhet.
How a eyes the company: sure my passion will
betray my weakenesse—O my Master, my Noble
Master, doe not forget me, I am still the humblest, and
the most faithfull in heart of those that serue you.
Mel.
Ha, ha, ha.
Rhet.
There's wormewood in that laughter, tis the
vsher to a violent extremity.
Mel.
I am a weake old man. All these are come
To ieere my ripe calamities.
Mena.
Good Vncle!
Mel.
But Ile out-stare 'ee all, fooles, desperate fooles,
You are cheated, grossely cheated, range, range on,
And rowle about the world to gather mosse,
The mosse of honour, gay reports, gay clothes,
Gay wiues, huge empty buildings, whose proud roofes,
Shall with their pinacles, euen reach the starres.
Ye worke and worke like Moles, blind in the paths,
That are bor'd through the crannies of the earth,
To charge your hungry soules with such full surfets,
And when ye haue skimd the vomit of your riots,
Y'are fat in no felicity but folly,
Then your last sleepes seize on 'ee. Then the troopes
Of wormes crawle round, &, feast, good cheare, rich fare,
Dainty delicious—here's Cleophyla:
All the poore stocke of my remaining thrift;
You, you, the Princes Cousin: how d'ee like her?
(Amethus) how d'ee like her?
Amet.
My intents are iust and honourable.
Men.
Sir, beleeue him.
Mel.
Take her.—we two must part, go to him, doe.
Ero.
This sight is full of horror.
Rhet.
This is sence yet in this distraction.
Mel.
In this Iewell I haue giuen away,
All what I can call mine. When I am dead,
Saue charge; let me be buried in a nooke.
No guns, no pompous whining: these are fooleries.
If whiles we liue, we stalke about the streets,
Iustled by Carmen, Foot-poasts, and fine Apes,
In silken coates, vnminded, and scarce thought on;
It is not comely to be hal'd to the earth,
Like high fed lades vpon a Tilting-day,
In antique trappings: scorne to vse-lesse teares.
Eroclea was not coffind so: she perisht,
And no eye dropt saue mine, and I am childish.
I talke like one that doates; laugh at me, Rhetias,
Or raile at me: they will not giue me meate:
They haue staru'd me: but Ile henceforth be mine owne Cook.
Good morrow: tis too early for my cares
To reuell. I will breake my heart a little,
And tell yee more hereafter. Pray be merry.
Exit Meleander.
Ile follow him. My Lord Amethus, vse your time
Respectiuely. Few words to purpose soon'st preuaile:
Study no long Orations; be plaine and short,
Ile follow him.
Exit Rhetias.
Amet.
Cleophyla, although these blacker clouds
Of sadnes, thicken and make darke the sky
Of thy faire eyes, yet giue me leaue to follow
The streame of my affections: they are pure,
Without all mixture of vnnoble thoughts.
Can you be euer mine?
Cleo.
I am so low
In mine owne fortunes, and my Fathers woes,
That I want words to tell yee, you deserue
A worthier choice.
Amet.
But giue me leaue to hope.
Men.
My friend is serious.
Cleo.
Sir, this for answer: If I euer thriue
In an earthly happinesse, the next
To my good Fathers wisht recouery,
Must be my thankfulnesse to your great merit;
Which I dare promise for the present time:
You cannot vrge more from me.
Mel.
Ho, Cleophyla?
Cleo.
This Gentleman is moou'd.
Ame.
Your eyes, Parthenophill,
Are guilty of some passion.
Men.
Friend, what ailes thee?
Eroc.
All is not well within me, Sir.
Meleander
within.
Cleophyla?
Ame.
Sweet Maid, forget me not; we now must part.
Cleo.
Still you shall haue my prayer.
Ame.
Still you my truth.
Exeunt omnes.
| The Lovers Melancholy | |