 | The Crvell Brother |  |
Actus Secundus.
Scena Prima.
Enter Foreste and Lvinna.Fores.
I cannot tell, why thou (my Girle) should'st ioy
In my aduancement thus. Honour, and place
Bring sullen thoughts with them: businesse of such
A ragged qualitie, as takes away
The amorous garbe: those soft wanton touches,
Wherewith the youthfull flatterer betrayes
The weaker side to action: whose effects
More weakenesse brings. I shall no leasure haue
To comfort thee with smiles: when t'is assign'd
That I must venture for a Boy: t'will be
In haste. My businesse will not suffer me
To stay, and make a prologue to the acte,
To kisse, or simper inuitation.
Luin.
It is not fit I apprehend you now.
But I wish that you would know; My duty
Is so well preseru'd from all corruption:
Produce: that it implores for sufferance,
To certefie the world how strong it is.
Forest.
I was assur'd before. This is the time,
In which I shall oblige posteritie
Or fall (my wench) by flattering error.
Hast thou to my sister counsaile giuen?
Instructions safe! whereby her actions
May warrant her promotion well deseru'd.
Luin.
It was my tongues last imployment.
Fores.
I would haue her weare her growing fortunes,
In a handsome fashion: Doe but obserue
The vnpollish'd garbe of Citty dames: of those
Whom fathers purse-strings hoyse vp to honor.
How they doe sucke their Chinnes into their Neckes.
Simper with vnskilfull leuetie: and trip
On their wanton Toes, like Kibe-heel'd-Fayries.
The Deuils damme shewes like a vestall Nunne
To them: more powerfull in humilitie.
Instruct my Sister, gentle wife.—
Enter Lucio.
Lucio.
I shall be earnest to my vtmost skill.
Fores.
My Lord is come, where's my Sister?
Lucin.
VVith the Florentine: who instructeth her in musicke.
Exit.
Lucio.
Signior Foreste,
You see my loue is rude, and bolde. I am
The vsher to my owne entrance.
Fores.
My good Lord, The prouerbe will perswade you:
To be bold, with whats your owne.
Your title's strong, both to the house, and me.
Lucio.
I am in debt for both. wilt thou not chide
To see my heart assume this libertie
Musick.
Vpon my Tongue: before it rightly knowes
Thy sisters heart:
The Duke consent, as yet vnasked too: harke?
Fores.
Cease that noyse, tis troublesome:
cease Muse.
Lucio.
How Foreste? Hast thou eares? and wilt thou
Sence such hopefull harmony, or is
Thy friend to share in what is good, sweet tongue
And hand, persist in what your kindnesse profferd.
Fores.
Obey him, if the musick not deserue
Your strict attention: You must blame your selfe.
Song.
Lucio.
Shew me the way Foreste:
Fores.
Whither sir?
Lucio.
My heart is stolne out of my eare; let me
But know the thiefe, and Ile forgiue the robbery.
Speake; who ist that, with a voyce so amorous
And shrill, confounds the others hollow organ?
Still so reseru'd, and vnto me.
Enter Corsa.
Fores.
Why then looke there, the voyce was hers, goe sir
And take what else you would enforce from my possession.
Lucio.
Is this that child of Orpheus? how? kneele to me?
Fores.
Stay Sir—If she consent but to abuse
The propertie of motion in such kinde
As may exalt her person but on such
Aboue this height: I am her enemy
For euermore. Consider what you doe.
She brings no portion but humilitie,
If her first payment faile: who dares assure
The future debt? Pray looke into her lappe:
You'le finde she comes not from the East enrich'd
With Diamonds, bright wealth: whose wanton worth
Vnskilfull fancy prises not from vse
But from the idolatrous doting of the eie.
Her chaste obedience is all her dowrie.
O bitter speech! it cuts my very soule
To thinke that fortune should create vs two
Meere patterns of your charitie.
Lucio.
Dare you authorize this Idolatry?
Then I'le kneele too.
Forest.
And I,
Will ioyne to make th'offence seeme virtuous.
Now enterchange your soules. Where passion is
So fond, it cannot well be counterfeit.
O send, send downe vnto this youthfull paire
Celestiall heate. Such serious loue as makes
A businesse of delight; Instruct her soule
To practise duty in the humble straine.
And furnish him with an acceptance prompt.
Make her fruitfull as the Vine; which growes
Crooked with the weight of its owne encrease.
So blessed in their Issue, that when time
Shall thinke them fit to taste the priuiledge
Of Death: they shall not need a Monument
Yet dwell as chiefe i'th' memory of Fame.
Corsa.
Amen, Amen.
Lucio.
Such is my prayer too. O Foreste!
Excessiue ioy disturbs my vtterance.
My words are parted on my tongue. O speake!
Thou know'st my heart! Tell her, there may lie hope,
I shall deserue those Teares that shew like deaw
Vpon the Morning cheeke. Intreat her, that
My yeeres may not disgrace my loue. Though I
Am young, I cannot counterfeit,
I euer speake my thoughts. I am o'recome.
Corsa.
Alas sir, so am I, There needs no Art,
To helpe beliefe, where no suspition is.
Fores.
Now; I'le leaue you to your selues.
Exit Fores.
Corsa.
I'ue much to promise in my owne behalfe:
Of my future loue, and humble duty
To you my deerest Lord. Time layes his hand
On Pyramides of Brasse, and ruines quite
What all the fond Artificers did thinke
Immortall workemanship. He sends his wormes
To Bookes, to old Records: and they deuoure
Th'inscription. He loues Ingratitude;
For he destroyd the memory of Man:
But I shall neere forget on what strange termes
You take me to your bed.
Lucio.
Excellent wretch! I am vndone with ioy
Since the world containes such ioy as this.
Why doe you weepe Lady? can you suppose
Foreste would consent to what is done,
Vnlesse he knew there were no danger in't?
Sure his Mother was a Sibyll; he sees
With a prophetique aime; the end of his
Designes; before they come to action.
He is too wise to erre. Why weepe you then?
Corsa.
It is a folly in my Eies.
I know not why they weepe: vnlesse they weepe
Because they now haue lost their libertie;
Heeretofore each man, which chance presented,
Was to them a lawfull obiect: but now,
They are to looke on none but you.
Lucio.
Marke then the bondage I impose on mine,
My poore eies haue no obiect, but your face:
Of which I will depriue them thus—
Couers her face with her white Vaile.
Shroude thee in thy vestall ornaments.
Creepe, creepe, my glorious Sunne, behind a cloud.
For els my eies, will surfeit with delight.
I neuer felt true ioy till now. Me thinks
A briske alacritie, a nimble fire,
Conuayes me strangely from my flesh.
Not the Cannons, Iron-entraile, when wrapp'd
Within a swarthy case of troubled Aire,
Could squall me in emphasis of Motion.
Corsa.
Though Modesty would suffer me to boast,
Yet t'were not in the power of breath, to make
My ioy so knowne, as it is felt.
Lucio.
Come then (my deare Corsa) the Priest attends
Within; the world wants Men; and Hymen is
A nimble God. When all is past preuention
The Duke shall know my choice.
Exit.
Enter Dorido: and Cosimo:
Dorid.
This disgrace, makes thy Cousen boyle his heart
In his owne blood.
He hath writ a most pestilent Libell
Which must be sung all about the city,
By one he calls his Daw; A tall, bigg, fellow.
Dor.
I know him. He sings like Phalaris Bull.
Cos.
I supposd at first, he would haue sent him
A Challenge.
Dor.
But that's contingent now: Foreste
Being made Secretary of State.
Cos.
I'haue heard o'th' new edict, which institutes
A misterious toy, i'th' Hatband, for those
Of the faction.
Dor.
Why about two dayes since: one of the sect
Sent me a Challenge. Because my sister
Drunke his Lords health, with her Quoife on. Each houre
These giddy Participles doe imbarque
Themselues for Duels. The one is a kinne
To my honorable Lady. Th'other
To my very good Lord.
Enter Castruchio.
Cos.
There comes my Cousin, chawing his leane heart.
Dor.
Good morrow to the Court Satyrist.
Cast.
The world is altred Dorido, Foreste
Is stepp'd beyond my reach: we cannot meete
In Duell: The Heralds stand betweene.
But my fine Thrush, can sing you a new Lybell.
Dor.
We shall haue your Thrush, in a Cage shortly.
Remember, who you deale withall.
Cast.
Hang him, dull, open slaue, His thoughts may be
Discernd, through the shauing of a deale bord.
I'le sift and winnow him, in an old hat.
Dor.
Prethee (sweete Castruchio) leaue thy barkeing.
'T will be treason shortly for any man,
To carry eares, within three miles of thy Tongue.
Cast.
Why Signior, what Faction are you of:
Dor.
Not of your faction (Sir) if none returne
Vnto the prison for your libelling.
You remember your Vices—strip'd, and whip'd.
Your trimme Eclogues, the fulsome Satyr too,
Whine, and damne your selfe to get a pardon
For what seemes there a resolute offence.
Satyrs, are more vsefull, now then euer.
Nor grieues it me to see the humour vs'd,
But thus abus'd. To see a Bard still reach
At holy Bayes. Passion o'me! I'le tell thee.
Thy Rimes include not so much Braines, as would
Suffice to fill a Cherry-stone.
Cast.
Yo'ld faine make me angry.
Dor.
I, with thy selfe.
Cos.
And then thou spend'st thy Gall, with more iustice,
Then when, thou rayl'st against Foreste.
Cast.
Cry you mercy (precious Cox) Hath Foreste,
So great a share in your tongue too? Sympathy
Is corupted. Behold society
Amongst the wicked: whilst a vertuous man,
Is left alone to resist his bad fate.
Let him chide the fulsome Age, raile against
The Times, aloude; though in a Vault: or 'tweene
Two Hills. He shall find no zealous ecchoe,
To second his bold Language. When I dye,
I dye a Martyr to the Common-weale.
Enter Lothario and Borachio.
Loth.
Dull Caytife, leaue these abortiue Prouects,
And talke in the newest fashion. I'le haue
My very Dogge barke i'th' Courtly garbe.
Dor.
Steppe aside. They are as mad as thy Cousen.
Loth.
The excrements and meere defects of nature,
shall be reduc'd to Ornaments in me.
I'le feed vpon the tongues of Nightingales,
For so each fart I let, will be a Song—
Cast.
For the Peripateticks being Butchers
Heere in Sienna:—
Loth.
A Pallas hewne in an intire Carbuncle.
Encircled with a Mote that flowes with Lhasis—
Deriu'd their Augury from the warme Entrailes
Of a Calfe.
Bor.
Sir. These are some of those, that laugh'd at yee
In the presence.
Loth.
At me? thou lyest. They laugh'd at thee.
Bora.
Why then the Deuill, will ne're giue a Man
Leasure, to beleeue a trueth.
Cast.
Seignior Lothario, the great Minion
To our Duke: I greet your health, with all ioy.
Cos.
And I with all humility.
Dorid.
And I with all celerity.
Loth.
Hearke! thou dull Sinner. Is this reall? hah?
Bora.
Sir, let him, that hath a heart of his owne
Thinke what he list.
Loth.
Doe they adore, or floute me now?
Bora.
All is witchcraft. I know when the Moone winks
There's something in't, besides an ecclips.
Loth.
Miscreant: What suspitious follys
Dost thou creat within that Wodden-skull?
And with what Heathen-phrase vtter'd? Know Dogg,
If I imploy my wrath—
Bora.
Allas sir I'ue more faults then misbeliefe.
Therefore giue me your blessing, and let me
Goe home in peace. T'is true, when the skie falls
We shall haue Larkes. But let weaker stomachs,
Expect such curious meate. I can eate
Oates, and Garlick, vnder my owne Roofe.
Dorid.
How? will Borachio leaue the Court?
Cast.
What accident of dire portent is fallne?
Loth.
Gentlemen applaude my patience: Because,
He cannot furnish me with wholesome Sutes,
He doubts my power to get 'em granted.
Cast.
Why we, will furnish him with Sutes.
Bora.
But wont yee floute, and play the knaue with one?
Cast.
How (Knaue!) was that the word?
Bora.
Interpret the word as your selfe shall please.
I scorne to be your Dictionary.
I hope I'm a Man, although a sinner.
Cast.
Vse no choller Amorous childe. But if
Thou wantest sutes, thy Lord being neere the Duke,
May furnish thee with—
Cos.
Or me thinks thou would'st become a knighthood
Get him to begg it for thee.
Bora.
No, no. Hot words make but warme aire, A figg
For a Knight-errant; that hath a stile, and nere a hedge.
Dorid.
Then get a Patent to suruay Brine-pits.
Or else for casting Ordinance in Lome.
Cast.
Or else search Saint Peters patrimony,
Lay Prebendrys are good, and Symony
Is an old Paradox.
Bora.
Holde, holde
Enough sufficeth all women but whores.
He that expects the Morning lengthens the Night
Therefore straitway let my Lord get the Duke
To signe these Patents: which done
I'le returne to the wife of my bowels,
And dye for ioy.
Cast.
Why this, is fit, and requisite.
Cos.
If Signior Lothario doe consent.
Loth.
It is decreed.
Bora.
Who would hasten Time, when we may be old
Too soone. Let me take downe a Cushion, and pray.
For I shall haue more dignitie then will suffice
To damne a Monke.
Cast.
Who could perish in a better cause?
Bora.
Why, can I helpe it? If a man be borne
To Offices. Or as my Master sayd,
Predestinate in the wombe of greatnesse.
Tis not our faults. Each man obayes his Starre,
In spight of his Teeth,
Dor.
All this is Alcaron
Bora.
One thing grieues me. I'ue a badd memory
Already, and now t'will be made worse.
How can preferment hurt thy memory?
Bora.
O Sir! preferment makes a man forget
His deerest friends; nay his kindred too.
Cos.
Looke, Thy Master's building more Castles, in the Aire.
Cast.
He has intelligence from Spaine, and fortefies,
To no purpose gainst the next Spring.
Loth.
All offices shall be sold i'th' darke—
Bora.
How! Grow not old in anothers garment,
Sell what's your owne, Some of those offices
Are mine by promise.
Loth.
Still, crosse to my designes. Ile stretch your Sinws—
Dor.
Hold! Signior Lothario, hold! Mercy
Becomes the powerfull,
Bora.
Let the Deuill take the Knighthood, and make
His Damme a Lady. I'le not be his Asse,
Exit Bor. Loth. running after him.
That seru'd for blowes, and Prouander.
Dor.
Lets relieue Borachio, or all our Comick Scenes
Are at an end.
Exeunt Omnes.
Chaire out.
Enter Duke and Foreste.
Duke.
Foreste.
Fores.
My gracious Lord.
Duke.
Are yet our Letters to his Holinesse
Dispatch'd?
Fores.
They are so please your Grace.
Duke.
Did the French Embassador make some shew
Of discontent at his departure hence?
Fores.
Both in his words and lookes: for when he heard
Th'English-Leiger had oppos'd his Treaty
Concerning traffique with the Florentine,
His anger straight dismissed the Argument,
And seiz'd vpon the Nation, nay rayl'd
'Against the Leiger too, whose opposition,
Might be chidden as too nice a Virtue,
But could not be accused as a vice,
In the emphasis of sudden anger,
As if alacritie in ill did make,
The fault looke handsomely, and dulnesse adde
Deformitie to sinne.
Duke.
Tis faithfully obseru'd.
Fores.
Swell'd with vncharitable pride: such as
Admits no stile of Neighbour; as if growne
Aboue the vse of friendshippe. They seeme to call
Those mighty Ilanders neerest their soyle,
Poore borderers to their Continent. Such,
Whose thinne numbers, haue in bloudy battaile,
Made their multitudes their impediments,
Worne their Ensignes, instead of gaudy Skarfes.
Duke.
The chance of war,
Admitteth many times of Miracles,
Euen such, as doe discredit History,
High-prouidence confers the conquest there,
Where probability conferd the losse.
And this is done, that we may attribute
The prayse to him that gaue the victory,
Not to them that got it. Obserue besides,
That when the weake doe ouercome: the strong,
Doe leaue that staine, for their Posteritie
To wipe away: which is already done;
The French, haue fiery nimble spirits.
Fores.
Your Grace deales iustly in your praise. They haue
Spirits: but they all are vselesse made,
By forward and affectate violence.
He that spends his fury, and his strength
I'th' first charge, must not hope to make's retreate,
So nobly, as the modest Combatant,
Whose onset slowly mooues: as carefull not
T'outride his skill. Their vallour is t'attempt,
Not to performe. T'is a giddy Nation;
And neuer serious but in trifles.
Duke.
Thou doest mistake in naturall effects,
To some mis-expence. These witty ryots
Divulge the wealth o'th' Braine. Fruite that is ripe
Is prone to fall, or to corrupt it selfe.
According to the age of Monarchies:
They now are fully ripe: they reach
The height, and top of mortall faculties.
Nature in them doth stand vpon the verge
Of her owne youth. The English want
Three hundred yeeres of that perfection.
And as the Moone ner'e changes but i'th' full
Euen so the mighty Nations of the Earth,
Change in their greatest glory. First their strict
And rugged discipline, to vaine delights.
Their solemne Marches next to wanton Iigs.
Their Battailes fierce to Duells spleenatiue,
enter Lucio. kneeles.
Or witty quarrels of the Penne.
Luc.
Heere may my knees take root: whilst I doe grow
A liuing Statue of true obedience,
Or let my royall Master grant his pardon.
Duke.
Sure we may trust, the iudgement of our eies,
Thou dost not looke as if thou could'st commit
A sinne so horrid, so vgly as can fright
Our mercy from vs. Rise, we pardon thee.
Now let vs know thy crime.
Lucio.
It is no crime
Vnlesse against that great prerogatiue
Youre eare hath ouerrune. Perhaps my Heart,
Hath made escape through these fonde Eies. And I
(I'th' rash discretion of my youthfull blood)
Confin'd my selfe in Matrimoniall bonds.
Duke.
Hah! maried? speake suddenly, to whom?
Fores.
To my Sister. Sir pardon the permission,
Foreste kneeles.
Or frowne, and leaue your creature more obscure
Then when you own'd him first. Now is the time
To shew your charity Diuine. Preserue
What you haue made.
Foreste this is ill.
What confederate with vngouern'd youth?
But rise, we pardon you. Where's the Lady?
Enter Corsa.
Rare beauty!—
You haue our pardon, and our fauour too.
I thus inuite more knowledge of your worth
Beleeue me Lady: you haue a feature
That would betray a more experienc'd Eie
Then Lucio's is. Excellent wretch! with a
Timerous modesty, she stifleth vp
Her vtterance. O such a pregnant Eye!
And yet so slow of speech; is a wonder
More delightfull, then any Nature makes.
Hast thou Lucio, so much vnhappy witt,
As to be iealous yet? wilt thou suppose
Thy selfe secure in our discourse?
Lucio.
Heauen forbid, your Grace should er'e imploy
Your time so ill as to discourse with her
'Till I grew jealous.
Duke.
Come hither Lady, come, confesse, how chance
You haue bewitch'd my Boy with subtill smiles,
With wanton hauiour of those pretty Eies?
Doth Heauen bestow such Noble ornaments,
To be abused in the vse: and now
He is your Prisoner too, in cheerefull bonds,
How can you haue the heart to make such spoile,
And hauock of his beauty? hah! speake Lady!
Corsa.
I hope your Grace hath thoughts more mercifull
I know this match was made in Heauen; and not
Prouok'd by any sinfull art in me.
How I haue vs'd him in this little time
That he hath bin my Lord: let him declare.
My duty is so strict, I need not blush
To heare the story told.
Duke.
No! looke, looke there. His Eies for very shame
Their luster's lost are crep't into his head:
Encircled with the weakely cullor blew.
His cleere and briske aspect is muddy now
And dull: His voyce (that was so shrill; and could
Euen Trumpet-like, outscolde the Ecchoe)
Is hollow growne, and horce. Haue you then vs'd him well?
Corsa.
Alas (most gracious sir) goe not about
To make my Lord suspect my Loyalty.
If Nature sickne in his faculties;
Which (heauen be thanked) I perceiued not yet,
It cannot prooue a guiltinesse in me.
Duke.
Beleeu't (young wife) I am no Proselyte.
I still auerr, you are that greedy Nimph,
That hath deuour'd the rich complexion of my Boy.
See how his feature's shrunke? his beauty stain'd?
The Scythian Dame (whose cruelty is such,
Whose lust so prodigall, that she doth striue
To kill the able Lecher in the act;
Making her wombe his Sepulchre) would yet
Haue spard that wanton handsomenesse; to shew
As patterne of her Lenitie.
Corsa.
I hope, your Grace will pardon Ignorance,
That so ill mannerd is, as not to know
Your meaning.
Duke.
No matter Lady.
My accusation shall withdraw it selfe.
Pretty innocence! Lucio, prepare.
Tis our will to make thy Wife a Courtier;
She shall be high in fauour; if she'll leaue
Her modesty; that's out of fashion now:
In Neighbor Courts, the Ladys so preuaile
With masculine behauiour: they grow
In factions able to depose their Husbands
From the charter of their Sex.
Fores.
T'is strange that his dislike is fled so soone.
Duke.
Your Mariage we wil solemnize with masques,
And Reuels. If Inuention euer meane,
To get reward for subtiltie; tis now.
And thy sister our Foreste.
Fores., Lucio.
We your Graces humblest Creatures.
Fores.
Affection is become a Parasite;
Striues to please, whom it cannot benifit.
Exeunt omnes.
| The Crvell Brother | |