University of Virginia Library

Act. 3.

Scen. 1.

Philautus, Ardelio.
Phil.
Ardelio , we are now alone, come tell me
Truly, how does the vulgar voice passe on me.

Ar.
Why Sir, the shallow currents of their brains
Runnes all into one streame, to make a deepe,
To beare the weighty burthen of your fame.

Phil.
And 'tis all true they say.

Ard.
That you are most faire,
A most exact, accomplisht, gentile Lord,
Not to be contradicted, 'tis a truth
Aboue all truths, for where is any truth,
That is agreed upon by all, but this?

Phil.
Such is the force of beauty, there is nothing
Can please without it, and who euer has it,
As there be few, is adjudg'd happy in it.

Ardel.
All this is true.

Philau.
Then he that has a pure
And sublim'd beauty, 'tis a thing sensible,
And cannot be denyed, must be admir'd,
And free from all detraction.

Ardel.
This is true.

Phil.
He that excels in valour, wit, or honour,
He that is rich, or vertuous, may be envy'd,
But love is the reward of beauty; no obiect
Surprises more the eye, all that delights us,
We ascribe beauty to it.

Ardel.
All this is true.

Phi.
Looke high or low, 'tis true, why are the stars
Fixt in their Orbes, but to adorne the heauens?
And we adore their beauty more than light.
Looke on the Arts, how they tend all to beauty,
'Tis their onely end: he that builds a house,
Striues not so much for use, as ornament,
Nor does your Orator compose a speech
With lesser care, to haue it elegant,
Then moving; and your Limner does obserue
The trimne, and dresse, more then the rules of painting.

Ard.
All truth, and Oracles.

Phi.
Look on a faire ship,
And you will say, 'tis very beautifull.
A Generall reioyces in the title
Of a faire Army. I'll come nearer to you;
Who were thought worthy to be deified,
But such as were found beautifull? for this cause,
Iove tooke up Ganimede from Ida hill,
To fill him wine, and goe a hunting with him.

Ard.
'Tis too much truth to be spoke at one time.

Philau.
It shall suffice, but yet you know that man
May safely venter to goe on his way,
That is so guided, that he can not stray.
Enter Fidelio.
How now, hast thou obtain'd in thy request?

Fid.
I haue with much entreaty gain'd your admittance

Phil.
Let me embrace my better Genius.

Fid.
I doe not use the profession.

Phil.
'Tis an Art
Will make thee thrive; will she be coy enough?
To tell you true, I take a more delight
In the perplexity of woing them,
Then the enioying.

Fid.
She is as I told you:

Phil.
If she be otherwise than I conceiue.
A pox on the Augury.

Fid.
But harke you, Sir,
You need not be known who you are.

Phi.
For that,
Trust to my care; Come let us goe about it.
Some men may terme it lust; but if it hit,
The better part shall be ascrib'd to wit.

Exeunt.

Scen. 2.

Trimælchio, Capritio, Agurtes, Autolicus.
Trim.
How goes our matters forward?

Ag.
Very well Sir.
For I haue made your entrance open; told her
All that I can to grace you, that you are
Exactly qualified, unparalleld,
For your rare parts of mind, and body, full
Of rare bounty, and that she likes best in you,
Shee holds it a good argument you will
Maintaine her well hereafter, marry else
She is naturall covetous, but that's
A point of Huswivery, she does not care,
You should spend much upon your selfe, and can
Dispense with housekeeping; so you allow her
To keepe her State, her Coach, and the fashion,
These things she meanes to article beforehand,
I tell you what you must trust to.

Trim.
Very well Sir.

Agu.
Now see that you be circumspect, and faile not
In the least circumstance; you may doe somewhat
Extraordinary, at the first meeting.
For when she has conceiv'd of your good nature,
The lesse will be expected.

Trim.
Why the Captaine
Has put me in a forme.

Agur.
Of words he has,
But you must doe the deeds.

Trim.
I, so I will.
For looke you Sir, I haue the seuerall graces
Of foure Nations, in imitation
Of the foure Elements, that make a man
Concurre to my perfection.

Ag.
As how?

Trim.
I am in my complement, an Italian,
In my heart a Spaniard,
In my disease a Frenchman,
And in mine appetite an Hungarian.

Agur.
All these are good and commendable things
In a Companion, but your subtle women
Take not a mans desert on trust, they must
See and feele something, what you giue her now,
You make her but the keeper, 'tis your owne,
You winne her by it: I should be loath to see you
Out done with Courtesies: what if some Gull,
That has more land than you, should interpose it,
And make ecclipse betweene you? 'tis a feare,
Therefore you must be sodaine, and dispatch it,
For she is ticklish as any Haggard,
And quickly lost: she is very humoursome.

Trim.

Agur.
I must be like the Satyr then, and leaue you,
If you are hot and cold.

Trim.

Autol.
Sir, for the Gentlewoman that is with her,
Not so much in the nature of a servant,
As her Companion; for 'tis the fashion
Amongst your great ones, to haue those wait on them
As good as themselues: she is the sole daughter
To a great Knight, and has an ample dowry.
Apply your selfe to her, though it be nothing
Else but to practise Courtship, and to keepe you
From sleepe and idlenesse.

Caprit.
I shall be rul'd
By you in any thing.

Autol.
You shall not doe
Amisse then: what? you may get her good will:
And then obiect it to your friends; you can
Advance your selfe without their counsell.

Capr:
Counsell;
I still scorn'd that.

Trim.
Captaine, a word with you:
Were I not best looke like a Statesman, thinke you?

Autol.
What to a woman? 'twere a solecisme
In nature, for you know Cupid's a boy,
And would you tyre him like a Senator,
And put a declamation in his mouth?
Twere a meere madnesse in you: here they come;
See what a Maiesty she beares, goe meet her.

Scen. 3.

Trimalchio, Capritio, Agurtes, Autolicus, Millicent, Margery.
Tri.
Stand by, it is my happinesse invites me.
O that I could appeare like Iupiter,
Vnto his Semele.

Agur.
Why, would you burne her?

Tri.
Yes, with my love I would; most Luculent Lady,
After the late collection of my spirits,
Lost in the admiration of your beauty,
Let me crave pardon.

Milles.
Sir, for what?

Trim.
My boldnesse.

Milles.
I apprehend none.

Trim.
You must pardon me,
For I am jealous of the least digression:
And you may justly frowne.

Milles.
I should be loath,
To acknowledge so much from you.

Trim.
Lady, you have those faire additions
Of wealth, and parentage, joyn'd to your vertues,
That I may justly suspect your disdaine:
But by my hopes, I doe not court your fortunes,
But you.

Milles.
Beleeve me, no deserving man
Shall be the lesse esteem'd for that, where I finde
Ability to governe, what I bring him.
Tis that I valew: things that are without me,
I count them not my owne.

Trim.
Tis a speech Lady,
Worthy an Empresse. I am a made man,
Since you have cleer'd the heaven of your brow:
Now by that light I sweare, a brighter day
Nere broke upon me.

Agur.
Sir, I hope this Lady
Shall have no cause to repent your admittance.

Milles.
Sir, for my part, since vertue is my guard,
I doe not onely keepe my doores stil open,
But my breast too, for Gentlemen of merit.

Trim.
Now by this ayre, that does report your voice
With a sound more then mortall: by your faire eyes,
And as I hope to be enrold your servant,
I honour the meanest stitch in your garment.

Milles.
I would not wish you place your love upon
A thing so meane, so likely to be cast off.

Trim.
O divine counsell! that so rare a beauty
Should mixe with wisedome: these words are not lost.
I am your slave for ever. I'll goe hire
Six Poets to sing your praise, and I my selfe
Will be the seventh to make up the consort.

Autol.
You see your friend there, Mr Trimalchio
Is like to speed, and fairely on his way
To much happinesse. I would not willingly
That any should miscarrie in a plot
That I have a hand in: you must be sodaine
I told you, if you meane to be a favourite
To fortune, and your Mistris, and be bold.

Cap.
If I had spoke to her, the brunt were past.

Autol.
I then the yce were broke; now she makes towards you,
Tis the best time, let no occasion slip,

Cap.
Lady advance the pinnacle of your thoughts,
And enlarge the quadrangle of your heart,
To entertaine a man of men.

Autol.
A man
Of meanes, sweet Lady, that I can assure you.

Marg.
Hee's so much the more welcome, I assure you,

Autol.
You are welcome by this meanes, doe you mark that?

Caprit.
Some 3000. a yeare or thereabouts.
Alas I value it not, 'twill serue to trifle
In pinnes, and gloves, and toies, and banquets.

Marg.
'Tis much.
One of so tender yeares, should step so soone
Into the world.

Caprit.
Indeed the spring of my courtship
Has beene somewhat backward: but I will striue
To redeeme it; I haue some seeds a growing,
Shall make m' ere long, spread like a Gentleman,
And you shall say so too.

Marg.
I doe beleeue it.

Caprit.
Nay where you doe or no, 'tis no great matter.

Autol.
Be not Capritious.

Caprit.
My name's Capritio.
There be in Towne of the Capritio's,
Came from our house, that shall approve it so.

Autol.
What will you say, if I shew you a way
To get a generall credit?

Caprit.
Can you doe it?

Autol.
I can, and will; I'll haue you out of hand,
The master of a good horse, and a good dogge,
And be knowne by them.

Caprit.
Will that doe it?

Autol.
Will it?
Why when you once haue match'd your horse, or dogge.
The adverse party being a man of note,
'Twill raise an inquisition after you.
Whose is the horse, sayes one, Mr, Capritioes.
What he, sayes another? a Noble Gentleman.
'Twill draw the eyes of a whole Shire upon you,
Besides the Citizens that goe downe to bett.

Caprit.
Why this is rare indeed.

Autol.
And then 'twill furnish you
With fitting discourse for any mans table.
A horse and a dogge, no better a subiect
To exercise your tongue in, many Ladies
Talke in that dialogue; besides, there being
A kind of neare relation in the nature
Of you and those beasts. the good qualities
That are in them, may be thought to be yours.

Cap.
I'll buy me a dancing horse that can caper,
And haue him call'd Capritio, by my name.

Aut.
You may doe so.

Capr.
Lady, by your leaue I will.

Mar.
Sir, what you please.

Au.
Her desires go with yours.
Obserue but what a wife sh'is like to proue,
That is no more imperious being a Mistris.

Cap.
Brother come hither.

Trim.
I am busie here.
How doe you like the fabricke of this Watch?

Milles.
Pray let me see it, a rare peece of worke.

Trim.
It cost me twelve pound, by this light, this morning.

Milles.
But that it was so deare, I would haue begg'd it.

Trim.
'Tis at your service, Lady.

Milles.
I'll make vse of
Your courtesie, with many thankes, Sir.

Trim.
Nay, but
You must not haue it.

Milles.
Will you goe from your word?

Trim.
I'll giue you as good, but this is none of mine,
By this hand I borrowed it.

Milles.
You said you bought it.

Trim.
I said so indeed.

Milles.
You should doe well to buy you
A better memorie, as I shall hereafter,
To keepe at distance with you.
Exit Millescent,

Agur.
Is she gone?

Trim.
Gone in a fume.

Agur.
How did you anger her?

Trim.
She would haue begd my Watch, and I excus'd it.

Agur.
She beg your Watch? she scorns to beg any thing.
Shee has more than shee can tell what to doe with.
Perhaps shee long'd for yours, and would receiue it
As a courtesie, why would you shew it her,
Vnlesse you meant to part with it?

Trim.
I know not:
I thinke my wit was crampt,

Agur.
You must nere looke for,
The like occasion offerd you; why this
Was such a time to win her loue: a gift
Would put her every houre in minde of you.

Trim.
What shall I doe?

Agur.
Best send it after her.

Trim.
Doe you carry it; tell her withall, I'll send her
A Coach and foure horses, to make her amends.

Agur.
Give me the Watch, if I doe make all good,
Will you performe your promise?

Trim.
By my life,
I'll send them without faile, immediatly.

Ag.
I'll after her, and see what I can do.
Exit Agurtes

Cap.
Stand for a watch: here take this Diamond:
Nay, doe not wrong me, I have sworne you shall,
Were it as good as that which was made precious
By Berenices finger, which Agrippa
Gave his incestuous sister, you should have it.
What doe you thinke I am an Asse? no sir,
Tis he has taught me wit.

Auto.
And you are happy,
That can be wise by other mens examples.

Cap.
What should I loose my Mistris for a toy!

Trim.
Lead on good brother, I am all of a sweat,
Vntill some gale of comfort blow upon me.

Exeunt.

Scen. 4.

Philautus, Fidelio, Faustina.
Fid.
You see that I have brought you to the treasure,
And the rich garden of th'Hesperides:
If you can charme those ever-watchful eyes
That keepe the tree, then you may pull the fruit,
And after glorie in the spoyle of honour.

Phil.
Prethee let me alone with her.

Fid.
I'll leave you.
Exit Fidelio:

Phil.
Ladie, my preface is to know your name.

Fau.
Faustina, Sir.

Phil.
I may be happie in you.
I have a sister somewhere of that name,
That in her youth did promise such a feature,
And hopes of future excellence: she had
A beautie mixt with maiestie, would draw
From the beholders, love, and reverence.
And I doe ill me thinkes, with unchaste thoughts
To sinne against her memorie: this taske
Would I were rid of; but I'll venter. Ladie,
You are not blinde, I conceive.

Fau.
No sir, I have not
Yet seene a thing so strongly sensible,
To hurt my eye-sight.

Phil.
Then I hope you can
Take notice of a Gentlemans good parts,
Without a Periphrasis.

Fau.
What's that?

Phil.
A figure,
Needlesse at this time to explaine my deserts,
So easie and apparent to be seene.

Fa.
I dare not enuie, nor detract, where worth
Does challenge due relation of respect:
Nor is my wit so curious, to make
A glosse or comment on your qualities.

Phil.
Tis too much labour, 'twere a taske would dull
The edge of Rhetoricke, to describe them rightly;
Nor would I have them dwell upon your tongue,
But fixed in your thoughts, there let them moue
Till they meet in coniunction with your love;
Nature would boast so sweet a simpathie.

Fau.
I should be sorrie, if my understanding
Moud in so poore a circle, as your praise;
I have not leisure to take notice of it.
Is this all you have to say?

Phil.
No, I have more;
But love is slow to dictate to my vowes:
And yet those sacred and divine impulsions,
Strike truer then my heart, and by his power
That has inflam'd me, here I sweare I love you.

Faust.
Your oaths and loue, are made of the same ayre.
Both dye in their conception: quickly utterd,
And as easily not beleeued.

Phil.
Nay now you wrong
My true intent.

Faust.
Suppose I grant you loue me,
What would you inferre?

Phil.
That you should speake the like,
And with the same affection.

Faust.
If your loue
Be not a Bawd unto some base desire,
I doe returne the like.

Phil.
I know not how
You may interpret it, but sure the law,
And the command of nature, is no basenesse,
A thing that Iove himselfe has dignified,
And in his rapes confess'd the god of loue
The greater of the two, whō Kings haue stoopt to,
We are allow'd t'inioy some stolne delights,
So we be secret in't; for 'tis set downe
By such as in this art haue skilfull beene,
W' are not forbid to act, but to be seene.

Faust.
Vpon these termes, I doe deny you loue me
'Twas lust that flatter'd sinne, made love a god,
And to get freedome for his thefts, they gaue
Madnesse the title of a Deitie.
For how can that be loue, which seeks the ruine
Of his owne obiect, and the thing beloued.
No, true loue is a pure affection,
That giues the soule transparent, and not that
That's conversant in beastly appetites.

Phil.
Tell not me of your Philosophicall loue.
I am a foole to linger, womens denyall
Is but an easie cruelty, and they
Love to be forc'd sometimes.

Faust.
Pray know your distance.

Phi.
Come you dissemble, and you all are willing

Faust.
To what?

Phil.
There's none of you but feele the smart
Of a libidinous sting; else wherefore are
Those baits and strong allurements to intice us?
Wherefore are all your sleekings, and your curlings,
Crispings, and paintings, and your skinne made soft,
And your face smooth with ointments, then your gate,
Confin'd to measure, and compos'd by art,
Besides the wanton petulancy of your eyes,
That scatter flames with doubtfull motion,
Vnlesse it were to prostitute your beauty?

Faust.
I'll giue account for none Sir, but my selfe.
And that I'll speake before my Virgin Zone,
Shall be vnti'de by any unchaste hand,
Nature shall suffer dissolution.
But what ere others be, me thinkes your worth
Should not pretend to an ignoble action.

Phil.
Now by this light I thinke you'll moralize mee.

Faust.
'Tis my desire you should goe better from mee
Then you came hither; you haue some good parts
But they are all exteriour, and these breed
A selfe conceit, an affectation in you,
And what more odious? Some applaud you in it,
As parasites, but wise men laugh at you.
Will you imploy those gifts that may commend you,
And adde a grace to goodnesse, had you any,
In the pursuit of vice, that renders you,
Worthy of nought but pittie?

Phil.
I came at to
A Whore, but shall returne as from a Saint.

Faust.
Then leave to prosecute the foggy vapours
Of a grosse pleasure, that involves the soule
In clouds of infamie. I wonder one
So compleat in the structure of his bodie,
Should haue his minde so disproportion'd,
The lineaments of vertue quite defac'd.

Phil.
I am subdu'd, she has converted mee.
I see within the mirror of her goodnesse,
The foulnesse of my folly: sweet instruct me.
And I will stile thee my Ægeria.

Fau.
It is a shame, that man that has the seeds
Of vertue in him, springing unto glory,
Should make his soule degenerous with sinne,
And slave to luxury, to drowne his spirits
In Lees of sloth, to yeeld up the weake day,
To wine, to lust, and banquets.

Phil.
Here's a woman:
The soule of Hercules has got into her.
She has a spirit, is more masculine,
Then the first gender: how her speech has fill'd me
With love and wonder? sweet Ladie proceed.

Fau.
I would have you proceed, and seeke for fame
In brave exploits, like those that snatch their honour
Out of the talents of the Roman Eagle.
And pull her golden feathers in the field.
Those are brave men, not you that stay at home,
And dresse your selfe up, like a Pageant,
With thousand anticke, and exoticke shapes,
That make an idoll of a Looking-glasse,
Sprusing your selfe two houres by it, with such
Gestures and postures, that a waiting wench
Would be asham'd of you, and then come forth
T'adore your Mistris Fanne, or tell your dreame,
Ravish a kisse from her white glove, and then
Compare it with her hand, to praise her gowne,
Her Tire, and discourse of the fashion;
Make discovery, which Ladie paints, which not:
Which Lord playes best at Gleeke, which best at Racket.
These are fine elements.

Phil.
You have redeem'd me,
And with the sunnie beames of your good counsell
Disperst the mist that hung so heavie on me:
And that you may perceive it takes effect,
I'll to the warres immediately.

Fau.
Why then,
I must confesse I shall love you the better.

Phil.
I will begin it in your happy omen:
But first confesse, that you haue vanquisht me.
And if I shall orecome an enemy,
Yeild you the Trophies of the victory.

Faust.
Please you walke in the while.

Phil.
I shall attend you.
Exit Faustina.
Henceforth I'le striue to flye the sight of pleasure,
As of an Harpy or a Basiliske,
And when she flatters, seale my eares with Waxe,
Tooke from that boat, that rowed with a deafe oare,
From the sweete tunes of the Sicilian shoare.

Enter Trimalchio, Capritio, Fidelio, Ardelio, Snarle.
Trim.
Are you for the warre indeed?

Phil.
Immediately.
Is there any of you will goe along with me,
Besides this Gentleman?

Trim.
I thinke no body.

Phil.
Ardelio, thou art my faythfull seruant

Ard.
Alasse sir,
My body is fat, and spungy, penetrable;
And the least cold will kill mee.

Snarle.
Yet his face
Is hatcht with impudency, threefold thicke.

Ard.
I am not for your Trenches, and cold crampes,
Their discipline will quickely bring me vnder:
Ile stay at home, and looke to your businesse.

Phil.
Brother Capritio, what say you to it?

Caprit.
Who I? ods lid I am not such an Asse,
To goe amongst them, like your volunteers,
That frighted worse at home with debt and danger,
Trauell abroad i'th summer to see seruice,
And then come home i'th winter, to drinke Sacke.
I am none of those, i'le hardly trust my selfe
In the Artillery yard, for feare of mischiefe.

Phil.
Mr. Trimalchio, you are yong and lusty,
Full of ambitious thoughts.

Trim.
'Tis true indeede,
That I am growne ambitious of honour.
And meane to purchase it.

Snarle.
But with no danger
Of life and hope.

Trim.
I meane to hazard a limme for it.

Phil.
Why, whither are you going?

Trim.
To the Leager,
Vpon the same imployment, that Hercules
Did once against the Amazons.

Snarle.
And I
Will stay at home, and write their annals for them.

Phil.
Stay all at home, and hug your ignominyes,
And whilst we spoyle the enemy, may you
Be pil'd by pimpes. Cheaters intrench vpon you.
Let Bawds, and their issues ioyne with you. Marry
With whores, and let proiectors rifle for you.
And so I leaue you.

Trim.
We shall heare of you,
By the next Caranto, I make no doubt of it.