 | Changes : Or, Love in a Maze |  |
Actus Secundus.
Enter Sir Iohn Woodhamore, Master Yongrave.Woodhamore.
I am her Keeper; expect here a while,
And Ile prepare her.
Exit.
Yon.
Ile attend; poore Gentlewoman,
Borne with more freedome than thou livest, thy parents
Left thee not rich to be a prisoner,
Nay worse, a prey to this hard man, who hath
Sold thee already, for if I obtaine
Thy love—I heare e'm comming.
Enter Eugenia. Woodham.
Wood.
Gentle Neece,
Misconster not my actions, 'tis my care
Of thee, and to satisfie the duty
14
I thus restraine thee, thou art young, and canst not,
Being so good thy selfe, suspect the world
Hath any false men in't; I know there are
Gallants, that study to undoe such Virgins
As thou art, that will flatter and betray
Thy fortunes to their riot, this unhappinesse
I would prevent, and have new found a man,
Into whose armes I may deliver up
The wealth that I am trusted with.
Eug.
Hee's welcome: Pray what's your businesse?
Yon.
You may understand, partly by what your Vncle
hath delivered.
Eug.
You come a wooing doe ye not? Heigho!
Yon.
How's this?
Woo.
I'le leave you at opportunity.
Exit.
Eug.
Troth, if you be a good man, bee not tedious,
I doe not love set speeches not long praises,
I hope y'ave made no verses o'my haire,
Acrosticks o'my name, I hate them worse
Than witchcraft, or the place I live in: if
You be a sutor, put me out of my paine,
Quickly I beseech you.
Yon.
I am one would be your servant.
Eug.
My servant? what can you doe?
Yon.
I can love you.
Eug.
I cannot helpe it, 'tis none of my fault.
Yon.
Your beauty makes me,
Which cannot bee without as faire a soule.
I dare beleeve my eyes, which till this present,
Could never reach more than your face, and that
At too unkind a distance, from your window;
I have enquired your fortune, and lamenting
With loving pitty, such a noble creature
Should be confind to narrow limits, come
To bring you freedome, make you mistresse of
Your liberty, and my selfe, if you can thinke
15
Your fortune, but your selfe, and if I urge
With too much haste, what great ones might be proud
To expect, after much sute, and that you cannot
Finde in your tongue consent, encourage me,
But for the present with one smile.
Eug.
I cannot,
Vnlesse I counterfeit, I have not smil'd
These ten moneths; if a sigh will pleasure you,
I can afford enough to breake your heart,
And yet I live. Walke into the other roome,
You'l find an alteration in the ayre,
And thinke you come into a mist, which I
Made all with my owne sighes, but I would not
Infect you so; you seeme an honest Gentleman.
Yon.
Her sorrowes helpe the growth of my affection;
What will she be in peace, that is so lovely
In her distresse; I wish you would impose
Something on me, to settle your sad thoughts,
I would imbrace a danger, to assure
The quiet of your minde.
Eug.
'Tis in the power
Of one, that would be kinde to helpe me, but—
Yon.
Make me that friend.
Eug.
You may love me too much,
To undertake that taske.
Yon.
Too much I cannot.
Eug.
Oh yes, for though I should esteeme him deare,
And call him my true friend, that in this storme
Would lend a cord to save me, yet such is
The misery of the imployment, he must not
Love me too well that does it.
Yon.
Bee more plaine
And let mee never hope to be cald yours,
If I refuse any command, that may
Or profit, or delight you.
Eug.
I release these hasty
Protestations.
Yon.
I pray trust me.
Eug.
I will, athough
Every syllable you speake, makes me suspect,
You will repent this freedome. If you will doe
A gratefull Office to me, in your person.
Give this paper to a Gentleman.
gives him a letter.
Yon.
Your name?
Eug.
In the direction
16
To meet with him
Yon.
This all: you doe not well.
To mocke my honest heart with this cheape service.
I was in earnest, when I promisd more,
Than carriage of a letter.
Eug.
If you please
To make it then a perfect act of Noblenesse,
You may take notice, that I long have loved him,
And if you finde him cold, in the perusall:
Tell him I had the promise of his faith,
When I gave up my heart, i'th presence of
A thousand Angels, that will witnesse it:
If yet hee bee not soft to stirre up his
Compassion, tell him how I live, and languish,
You may report you saw mee weepe, I have not
Much more to say, if you will doe this favour,
Twill be an argument of your respect,
I see your resolution cooles already.
Yon.
Tis a severe imployment, but Ile doe
Something, pray honour mee to kisse your hand,
I have not yet deserv'd to reach your lippe:
Content dwell in your bosome.
Enter Woodhamore.
Wood.
What successe?
Yon.
I hope well, some affaires
Call mee away.
Exit.
Wood.
Good Master Yongrave: how doe you like this
Gentleman.
Eug.
I shall desire to see him agen, my heart
Is light upon sudden, please you Vncle
Ile in, and play a lesson o'my Lute.
Exit.
Wood.
Doe what you please, I rellish not your ayre,
Thats onely sweet to mee that profit brings,
There is no musicke without golden strings.
Enter Chrisolina, Aurelia.
Ch.
Was ever Maid so miserable in her affection?
Au.
Is not my fate as cruell?
Cannot wee love him still, and yet bee sisters?
I hope we may; the love I beare to him
Shall not destroy my piety to you:
17
Nature hath fram'd us two in person, but wee are both one
in heart.
Ch.
Indeed we are; Wee are too much one,
And both love one too much, for either to enjoy him.
Au.
Say not so, give me a little time and I will try
How I can give him you; I will perswade
My heart to let him goe.
Ch.
Alas poore sister,
Why should you give him me? it is no argument;
Because I came one minute into life
Before you, therefore you should render first
To me, what is so pretious to your selfe;
Rather let me begin, that was first made
Acquainted to the world, resigne to thee,
And make thee happy by enjoying him.
Au.
But doe you know the miserable consequence?
For if you love him with that truth, and fervour
You speake of, (as it were a sinne in me
Not to beleeve it,) can you looke for lesse
Than death, to see mee mistresse of his faith,
And lead in nuptiall triumph to the Church?
Ch.
I cannot tell—
Au.
Or if it did not kill you
So soone, I know the sorrow would distract you,
How can I smile to see my sister weepe,
Away her eyes, and tell the jarring minutes
With hasty sighes to know her selfe forsaken?
Ch.
And can it be, you could doe lesse, that love him
As well as I, to see him made my husband,
Would it not make you melancholy sister,
And ofte retire into the darke to weepe,
Could you behold us freely kisse, embrace
And goe to bed together, remembring that
You gave this friend to me from your owne
Heart, and live?
Au.
Why let me dye then,
Rather than you, I shall perhaps obtaine
Some charitable Epitaph, to tell
The world, I died to save my sisters life;
Tis no such thing to dye.
Ch.
This is agen
Our misery, it is not in our power
18
His love, he only must determine it.
Wee cannot guide his passion.
Au.
Nor himselfe
Direct it, as he now appeares divided,
May be, it would be fortunate for both,
Would he be more particular.
Ch.
That makes
Our flame increase, that he protests he loves
Vs both, so equally.
Au.
'Tis very strange.
Ch.
Let us then joyne our argument to perswade him,
To point out one of us to be his Bride,
Tother in time, may hope to gaine her freedome;
I know not what I say—we both must plead
Enter Gerard.
Against our selves: see, he is come already.
Ge.
The scales are even still, that one had lesse
Perfection, to make the doubtfull ballance
Give difference in their value; but I wrong
Their vertues to wish either any want,
That equally incline my soule to love 'em.
Iustice I now consent, thou shouldst be blinde,
My eyes are but the cause I cannot see,
And will not give my judgement leave to make
Distinction of these two Democritus,
I doe allow thy rashnesse, ad confesse
Then thou didst rectifie thy contemplation
When thou didst lose thy sight. Which of these two
Instruct me love, that tother? both? what fate
Hovers about my choice? Were it not sinne
I would be blind, as Poets fancie love,
Into whom now I am transform'd, that then
My soule not looking through these glasses, might
With inward speculation ayme at her,
That is the happiest, if one can be so.
Ch.
Sir, if wee be not troublesome—.
Ge.
You cannot.
Au.
To interrupt your meditations, wee have a sute.
Ge.
Both? it must needes be granted,
Ch.
Nor let us suffer in our modesties,
19
Ge.
Tis a command,
And I must needes obey; you two divide this Empire:
Ch.
You prepare; we dispute not
The strangenesse of your love, but pitty it,
And are so ready in our owne affection
To answer your opinion of us both,
That if you can collect, what devide
On two, and place it fairely upon one,
Choose whom you will make happie.
Au.
We expect not
Your hasty answer, though wee both desire
A swift end to your trouble.
Ge.
I pray stay,
Exit.
I would determine now, but cannot—faire ones,
Was ever lover so perplext? I must resolve.
Enter Master Thornay.
Tho.
Why how now Franke? what melancholy?
Ger.
How came you hither?
Tho.
Why o'my feet:
I was at your lodging to enquire for you,
And here they told me I should finde you.
Ge.
Yes,
Here I am lost indeed; prethee excuse my dulnesse.
Tho.
What's the matter, come I ghesse
The cause, which of these Gentlewomen is't? I saw 'em.
Ge.
Didst? and how dost like 'em prethee?
Tho.
I doe like 'em so well, that I could wish—
Ge.
Which, which of them?
Tho.
Faith I cannot tell, the
worst of 'em both a-bed wi'me.
Ge.
Thy wishes are
Not modest: couldst thou love one of them nobly?
Ha? thou hast a person and fortune to invite thy
Entertainement, come let me counsell you.
Tho.
To what?
Ge.
To love, and to a blessing couldst thou see
So sweet a paire, and feele no burning shaft?
Hast thou a soule about thee, that is capable
Of knowledge and delight? didst ever love?
Tho.
Yes once, and I thinke heartily, for the time,
But I ha' drowned her.
Ge.
How?
Tho.
In Sacke, I thinke as gallants lose their Mistresses,
By drinking their health too often.
Ge.
Prethee doe not trifle.
20
What wouldst have me answer? I can love.
Ge.
A woman?
Tho.
What dost make of mee?
Ge.
With honour?
Tho.
And honesty, if I see cause.
Ge.
Enough; thou shalt have cause
Within two minutes, shalt but see agen
These sisters, and be proud to be a servant,
I prophesie already; oh my friend!
Tho.
Pray take me wi'you.
Ge.
Yes, thou shalt goe with me
And speake to 'em, and be amaz'd as I am,
To know there are such creatures.
Tho.
I ha'seene a multitude of faire ones.
Ge.
All other women
Are but like pictures in a gallery,
Set off to th'eye, and have no excellency
But in their distance; but these two, farre off
Shall tempt thee to just wonder, and drawne neere
Can satisfie thy narrowest curiosity:
The stocke of woman hath not two more left,
To rivall them in graces.
Tho.
You speake for 'em,
I may goe farther, and fare worse,—. Ile not
Consider more on't, lets to 'em, stay—
Which of these two's your mistresse? let me know
Where to direct my service.
Ge.
That question
Hath puzled mee already.
Tho.
Say, which is't you best affect?
Ge.
I love em both, so equally,
I know not which to name.
Tho.
How, both? what thou
Should I doe with em? art thou mad?
Ge.
A little,
Containe thy selfe, and call thy reason to thee,
Although it be the cruelty of my fate,
I can be no barre to thee; I can enjoy
But one, and yet thou shalt have choice
Of both, thou art not thus my rivall,
But my friend, reliefe of my distraction, for shee
21
In my heart shall meet a cleere and perfect entertainment.
Tho.
Hum.
Ger.
Canst thou resolve? winne either,
And we both grow happy at once.
Tho.
You say well, this is faire—
Ger.
They are here.
Enter Simple and M. Golds. at one doore, and Thump, Chris. and Aurel. at the other.
Mis.
With your favour I must chide yon Sir, not once speak to
My daughter, she expects to be courted with kisses and imbraces.
Sim.
I, I, I could kisse her all over, and imbrace her too, but
I have an imperfediment, I cannot speake as I would doe; but
let mee alone a little, Ile try, let me see, and I hanot forgot my
verses.
Mis.
Here they are, Ile not trouble you.
Exit.
Ger.
I will leave this Gentleman;
Hee is my best friend Ladies.
Ch.
You oblige us more to respect him.
Ger.
I hope you will be just,
At my returne, when I declare my selfe.
Au.
Sir, you sh'anot need to urge it.
Ger.
I am your honourer.
Exit.
Sim.
Now Thump, I am resolv'd to speak to her, whatsoever
Come on't; hum, hum.
Enter Mr. Goldsworth.
Gol.
What another sutor?
I were best locke up my daughters, they'l be smothered with
Gentlemen: Sir Gervace you are a welcome man.
Sim.
You shall see, if I doe not speake to her, now
Now, and to the purpose, in spight of the divell. Thump
Stroke me o'th back.
He plucks Aur. by the gowne.
There's something in my head, and t'were out.
Thu.
I hope you doe not meane your braines.
Sim.
Would somebody lov'd me, but as well, as I loved
Somebody.
Au.
Now 'tis out.
Sim.
La you there, I thinke I talked to her.
Gol.
But in my opinion you were quickly daunted.
Sim.
Was I so? well marke me now, now, I will wincke
As hard as I can, and then I'me sure she cannot put me out.
22
Sim. takes Cap. by the hand.
Sim.
Beauty—
Cap.
How now? what meanes this?
Sim.
Let me but kisse thy hand, and tell
How much I love thee; I know very well
Thou art a Phenix, beautious and bright,
And dost burne every man for thy delight
Thy eyes are Sunne and Moone, not to be match'd.
Ch.
This was intended for you sister.
Sim.
Thy haire is fine as gold, thy chin is hatch'd
With silver, needs must brazen be my face,
That cannot come into thee with a grace.
Cap.
Before or after meat.
Sim.
Sweet, heare me out.
But this I know, I am thy faithfull Lover,
Oh quench my fire.
Cap.
Or else the pot run's over.
Sim.
Y'are in the right:
Accept me for thy servant, not thy foe,
For I doe love thee better than any man in the whole
world can doe.
Cap.
Come kisse me then, and open thy faire eyne.
Sim.
With all my heart.
Om.
Ha, ha.
Sim.
Gentlemen, rest you merry; Thump,
By this hand Ile bee drunke presently.
Thu.
And you had taken my counsell, you had done so
Before you came hither: Wine is armour of proofe.
Exeunt.
Cap.
Ladies I am sorry, this rude fellow has
Abus'd your eare, with harsh, and untun'd numbers.
Gol.
Your verses have a tune belike
Cap.
I came a purpose, to present a copie
Of verses that should make your genius stand
O'th tip-toe, list to me, and grow immortall.
Ch.
We shall be troubled now.
Tho.
If please you Lady
Weel walke a side, I have something of more weight
I would impart.
Ex.
Au.
Ile leave him too.
Exit.
Gol.
Master Caperwit, before you read, pray tell me,
Have your verses any adjectives?
23
Adjectives, would you have a Poem without
Adjectives? they are the flowers, the grace of al our language:
A well chosen Epithete doth give new soule
To fainting Poesie, and makes every verse
A bride, with Adjectives we baite our lines,
When we doe fish for Gentlewomens loves,
And with their sweetnesse catch the nibling eare
Of amorous Ladies, with the musicke of
These ravishing Nownes, we charme the silken Tribe,
And make the Gallant melt with apprehension
Of the rare word: I will maintain't against
A bundle of Grammarians, in Poetry,
The Substantive it selfe, cannot subsist
Without an Adjective.
Gol.
But for all that,
Those words would sound more full, me thinks, that are not.
So larded; and if I might counsell you,
You should compose a Sonnet cleane without e'm:
A row of stately Substantives, would march
Like Switzers, and beare all the field before e'm;
Carry their weight, shew faire like Deeds enrold,
Not Writs, that are first made, and after fild.
Thence first came up the title of blancke verse,
You know Sir, what blancke signifies? when the sense
First framed, is tyed with Adjectives like points,
And could not hold together without wedges:
Hang't tis pedanticke, vulgar Poetry,
Let children when they versifie, sticke here,
And there these pidling words for want of matter:
Poets write Masculine numbers.
Cap.
You have given me a pretty hint, tis new.
Gol.
And will bee gratefull,
My daughter will affect it much the better,
And twill be honour, if shee be the first,
To whom so choice a Poem is presented.
I wish you well Sir.
Exit.
Cap.
You oblige my service,
I will bestow these verses o'my footman;
24
I want a little quickning, two or three
Infusions of sacke will heighten mee,
And make my Genius dance, then Lady, Lady—Gone?
Shee's hard of Soule, but I must supple her,
And there's a conceit new strucke upon my braine
Will doo't, ιδμια forces united conquer,
Lady grow soft, if merit cannot prove
Happy, wee must use policie in love.
Exit.
Enter Chrisalina and Thornay.
Ch.
No more; you doe not well to wrong your friend,
That trusts you with his bosome.
Tho.
Faire one, heare mee.
Ch.
He gave you welcome hither, and you practise
Vnworthily to supplant him.
Tho.
You are too
Severe, I have no thought so wicked Lady,
Deny me not that liberty, which all
The Creatures have, to wish their owne felicity;
Which cannot bee without you, hee will not
Repine to see mee happy in your love.
Ch.
In seeming to extenuate your error,
You thus enlarge it, and bring into question
The honour of your friend, for whom I must
Though weake, rise up a Champion for his vertue,
And to beate off all argument, on your part
To move for my affection, know, he is next heaven,
The onely object of my heart, nor can it know a change.
Tho.
And yet if you collect your selfe, you are not
The onely Mistresse of his heart, your sister hee loves
As well as you; your pardon fairest, tis possible,
Hee may preferre her too, since neither piety nor law allowes,
Hee can bee husband at one time, to both.
Then let discretion guide you first to freedome,
I love you not with halfe a heart, but all;
Heaven knowes with all, at every looke you doe
Transfixe me, and can onely cure the wound
With the same eyes, if they but smile upon it.
25
I must not heare you plead thus, you appeare
Nor friend to him, nor me; so fare you well.
Exit.
Thor.
I am caught, by this good day I am, and know not
How now to helpe my selfe: a hansome thing!
What a blind buzzard is this Iackanapes Cupid?
Pox of his bird-bolt, Ile not leave her:
Yet I may be too forward; I am punish'd:
Uenus, thy pardon, I beseech thee,
If thou beest not hard-hearted, as the Poets feine,
Speake to thy Boy to fetch his Arrow backe,
Or strike her with a sharpe one, make her squeake,
And Ile allow thee a Goddesse. Ha, 'tis he.
Enter Gerard.
Ger.
Before thou speak'st to me, let me peruse
Thy face, Ile tell my selfe how thou hast sped:
Well? is't not so? Yet doe not answer me,
That smile does not shew cleere, there is some cloud
Ith'corner of thy forehead, that would spread,
And darken all thy face.
Thor.
Your Physiognomy is quite discredited.
Ger.
Hast prevail'd? With which? why now thou art to
tedious.
Thor.
With the eldest, Chrysolina.
Ger.
Ha, what sound was that? With Chrysolina?
I prethee what of her; I love her deerely;
Thou hast not filcht away her heart, it grew with mine.
Thor.
How's this?
Ger.
Hast thou not seene the Woodbine,
That honey-dropping tree, and the lov'd Bryer,
Embrace with their chaste boughs, twisting themselves,
And weaving a greene net to catch the birds,
Till it doe seeme one body, while the flowers
Wantonly runne to meet and kisse each other?
So 'twas betwixt us two.
Thor.
I meane the yongest.
Ger.
What my Aurelia?
Thou canst not rob me so: the amorous Turtles
Have but their imitation from our love;
The Pelican loves not her yong so well,
26
When in her blood she bathes the innocent birds,
As I doe my Aurelia.
Thor.
Godbewi'y',—I know not how to please you, nor to
answer.
Ger.
I prethee stay.
Thor.
Engage me in a businesse?
Nay, thrust me oth'lime-twigs, to set you
At liberty, when your owne wings were glu'd
Toth'bush, and d'ye reward me a this fashion?
And I had knowne it, you shou'd ha'fluttered.
Ger.
I forgot my selfe, I prethee pardon me,
I will excuse thee when thou art in love.
Thor.
Then doe so now, and you'l be temperate and heare me.
Ger.
Speake, I am recollected.
Thor.
And I am in love.
Ger.
Thou didst name both, thou art so unhappy.
Thor.
Your humors lead me to't, but I shall tell you?
Ger.
Which, which of them did most encourage thee?
Thor.
Be not you passionate still, but give me thanks,
And call me fortunate, she has halfe consented.
Ger.
I shall be lost ith'darke: declare which.
Thor.
Which? why the eldest; which? Chrysolina.
Now be you advised, and court the other.
Ger.
Halfe consenting.
Thor.
I may say three quarters, and not lye.
Ger.
Tis false; and such a staine thou throwest upon that Virgin,
Thy blood deserves to purge.
Thor.
You doe not meane to play the foole thus:
Pox upon this madnesse: I wo'not fight with you,
And I will love that Gentlewoman:
I thought I had done you a courtesie.
Ger.
So thou hast, if it be true.
Thor.
Have you a mind to be the everlasting madcap?
And you can couple with both, I can resigne;
Poore Gentlewoman, she'l ha' the worst on't.
Ger.
But I prethee tell me,
With what Art didst thou so soone win her to thee?
27
Confident of thy honesty, I should
Suspect some witchcraft.
Thor.
There is an Art
In wooing, not reveal'd to every man,
Which he that knowes, shall doe more with a Maid
In some minute, than others in a twelve-moneth.
Ger.
'Tmust be a luckie minute.
Thor.
I, he must take her ith'nicke; and court her
In the precise minute: yet it may be, she
In pitty of my sufferings or mistrusting
She might not be the first in your election,
Inclin'd the sooner: Now would I have you,
Without more ceremony, neglect the wench
That I have chosed: D'ye marke? neglect her,
And addresse all your courtship to the yongest,
Your meaning will be cleerely understood
A both sides; so you shall with ease, enlarge
Your owne heart, fixe on one whose armes already
Are open to yee, and make my path direct,
Without any rub to the other. Is this sense?
Obey it then; set on afore with your Mistris
A hand gallop, if I overtake you not, let me swing
I'th bridle, and set a saddle o'my backe, and let all the
Fooles in the Towne ride me.
Ger.
Wee must not bee too rash, lets walke, and thinke
on't.
Exeunt.
Sic explicit Actus secundus.
| Changes : Or, Love in a Maze | |