 | The bloodie banqvet |  |
Scene. 3.
Enter Zenarchus, Tymethes, Amphridote, and Mazeres.Tym.
We are observ'd.
By whom?
Tym.
Mazeres followes us.
Amp.
Oh he's my protested servant, your sole Rivall.
Tym.
The devill he is.
Amp.
You'le make a hot Suitour of him anon?
Tym.
He may be hot in th'end, his good parts sue for't,
Zen.
He eyes us still.
Tym.
He does, you shall depart Lady;
Ile take my leave on purpose in his presence,
He's jealous, and a kisse runnes through his heart,
Ile make a thrust at him on your lip.
Maz.
Death! minute favours? every step a kisse?
I thinke they count how the day goes by kissing,
Tis past foure since I met them.
Tym.
I have hit him in the Gall in stead of th'blood,
He sheds distractions, which are worse than wounds.
Zen.
But sirra!
Maz.
Stayes he to proove my Rivall? curs'd be th'houre
Wherein I advis'd the King for his stay here,
I have set slaves t'entrap him, yet none prosper,
Ile lay no more my faith upon their workes
Th'are weake and loose, and like a rotten wall,
Leaning on them may hazard my owne fall.
Ile use a swifter course, cut off long journeys,
And tedious wayes that runne my hopes past breath,
Ile take the plaine roade way and hunt his death.
Exit.
Tym.
So so, he departs with a knit brow, no matter;
When his frowne begets earthquakes, happly then
'Twill shake me too: I shall stand firme till then.
Enter Roxano disguised.
Rox.
Masse here a walkes; I am far enough from my selfe,
I challenge all disguises except drinking
To hide me better; I give way to that,
For that indeed will thrust a white gentleman
Into a suite of mud, but whist I begin to be noted.
Zen.
I, he chang'd upon't.
Tym.
I mark'd him.
Rox.
Good your honours, your most comfortable charitable releefe
Tym.
Pox on thee.
Rox.
Ime bare enough already if it like your honour.
Tym.
He did!
Rox.
Pox on thee? your yong gallants love to give no Almes.
But that that will sticke by a man, thats one vertue in them:
He's not content to have my hat off, but he would have my hayre off too.
Thanke your good Lordship.
Tym.
No! was that his Action!
Amp.
It cal'd him Lord.
Zen.
Nay he's a Villaine.
Rox.
Good your honours! I have beene a man in my time.
Tym.
Why what art thou now?
Rox.
Kept goodly beasts, had 3. wives,
2. men uprising, 3. maides downe lying; oh good your kind honours.
Tym.
Sfoote, I am a begger my selfe.
Rox.
Perhaps your Lordship gets by it;
Good your sweete honour!
Tym.
This fellow would be whipt.
Rox.
Your Lordship has forgot since you were a Begger.
Tym.
Ile give thee somewhat for that jest in troath.
Rox.
But now you are in private, shut your purse, and open your eare sir.
Tym.
How?
Zen.
He's dealing his devotion, hinder him not.
Rox.
I am not literally a Begger, as Puritanicall as I appeare
The naked Truth is you are happily desired.
Tym.
Ha?
Rox.
Of the most
Sweete, delicate, divine, pleasing, ravishing creature
Tym.
Peace, peace, prithee peace.
Rox.
That ever made mans wishes perfect.
Tym.
Nay, say not so; I saw one creature lately
Exceeds al humane forme for true perfectio; this may be beauteous.
Rox.
This for white and red sir, her honour and my oath sue for that pardon,
You must not know her name nor see her face.
Tym.
How?
She rather chuseth death in her neglect
Than so to hazard life or lose respect.
Tym.
How shall I come at her?
Rox.
Let your will
Subscribe to the sure meanes already wrought,
She shall be safely pleas'd, you safely brought.
Tym.
Ha! and is this sheere faith, without any tricke in't?
Rox.
Let me perish in this office else; and I neede wish
No more damnation than to dye a Pander.
Tym.
Thou speakest well, when meete wee?
Rox.
Five is the fixed houre, upon to morrowes Evening.
Tym.
So, the place?
Rox.
Neere to the further lodge.
Tym.
Goe to then, it holds honest all the way?
Rox.
Else does there live no honestie but in Lawyers.
Tym.
Enough, five? and the furthest lodge? Ile meete thee.
Rox.
Enjoy the sweetest Treasure in a woman.
Exit.
Tym.
Alwayes excepting and the Tyrants Gem.
Zen.
What, have you done with the Begger?
Tym.
None that lives can say he has done with the Begger.
Zen.
Hold conference so long with such a fellow?
Tym.
How? are your wits perfect? if one should refuse
to talke with every begger, he might refuse brave Company
sometimes, gallants y faith.
Exeunt.
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