 | The Costlie Whore |  |
Constantine.
How do'st thou like the lovely Euphrata!
Otho.
I did not marke her.
Const.
Then thou didst not marke
The fairest Saxon Lady in mine eye,
That ever breath'd a maid.
Otho.
Your minde now knowne,
Ile say shee is the fairest in the world,
Were she the foulest.
Con.
Then thou canst dissemble.
Otho.
You know I cannot, but deare Constantine,
I prethee tell me first, what is that Ladie?
That wonder of her sexe, cal'd Euphrata,
Whose daughter is she?
Const.
I cannot blame thee Otho,
Though thou be ignorant of her high worth,
Since here in Saxon we are strangers both,
But if thou cal'st to minde, why we left Meath,
Reade the trice reason in that Ladies eye,
Daughter unto the Duke of Saxonie,
Shee unto whom so many worthy Lords,
Vail'd Bonnet, when she past the Triangle,
Making the pavement Ivory where she trode.
Otho.
She that so lightly toucht the marble path,
Const.
The same.
Otho.
Why that was white before,
White Marble Constantine, whiter by odde
Then that which lovers terme the Ivory hand,
Nay then the Lillie, whitenesse of her face.
Con.
Come, thou art a cavilling companion,
Because thou seest my heart is drown'd in loue,
Thou wilt drowne me too, I say the Ladie's faire,
I say I love her, and in that more faire,
I say she loves me, and in that most faire,
Love doth attribute in Hyperbolies,
Vnto his Mistris the creation of every excellence,
Because in her his eies do dreeme of perfect excellence,
And here she comes.
Enter Euphrata.
Observe her, gentle friend.
Euph.
Welcome sweete Constantine.
Con.
My Euphrata.
Euph.
Thy Euphrata, be thou my Constantine,
But what is he, a stranger, or thy friend?
Con.
My second selfe, my second Euphrata,
If thou beest mine, salute her gentle Otho.
Otho.
An humble and a true devoted heart,
I tender to you in a mindes chast kisse.
Euph.
Welcome to me, since welcome to my friend.
Otho.
A beautifull, an admirable Ladie,
I thinke 'tis fatall unto every friend,
Never to love, untill his friend first love,
And then his choice; but sooner will I teare
Out of this brest, mine affection with my heart.
Eu.
Hearing sweet Constantine thou wert so nere me,
I came as I were wing'd to gaze on thee.
Con.
And would to heaven there were no bar in time
To hinder me from thy desired sight,
But thousand sutors eyes do watch my steps,
And harke I heare some trampling, how now Iulia?
Enter Julia.
Iuli.
Madam, the Lord Montano spying you,
Hath ever since waited your comming foorth,
And will not be denied untill he see you.
Euph.
Of all my sutors, most importunate.
Con.
What is he love?
Euph.
Of very noble birth.
But my affection is not tyed to birth,
I must dispense with this kind conference,
For some small time, untill I rid him hence,
Therefore within my closet hide thy selfe,
Your friend shall Iulia guide into the garden,
Where through a private doore, but seldome vs'd,
He may at pleasure leave us and returne,
Deny me not, I prethee Constantine,
Thou hast my heart, and would thy birth were such,
I need not feare t'avouch thee for my Love.
Otho.
Madam, I take my leave.
Exit Otho.
Con.
Farewell deare friend,
Returne as soone as may be, farewell Love.
Exit.
Euph.
Now guide Montano hither.
Enter Montano.
Mon.
Gracious Madam, I have seene the noble Palsgrave,
The Prince of Milleine, and the Palatine of the Rheine,
With divers other honorable sutors,
Mounted to ride unto their severall places.
Euph.
Of me they tooke their farewell yesternight.
Mon.
What meanes your grace to be so unkind to all?
You drive away good fortune by disdaine.
Euph.
Why are you grieving too?
Mon.
I am your subiect;
The meanest that did humbly seeke your love,
Yet not the meanest in affection,
And I am come to take my farewell too.
Eup.
Why then farewell.
Mon.
So short with them that love you.
Eup.
Your journey may be great for ought I know,
And 'tis an argument of little love,
Mon.
My journey Madame is unto my house,
Scarce halfe a league hence, there to pine and die,
Because I love such beauteous crueltie.
Euph.
God speede you sir.
Mon.
Nay then I will not leave you:
Madam, 'tis thought, and that upon good ground
You have shrin'd your affection in the heart
Of some (what ere he be) noble, or base,
And thats the cause you lightlie censure all.
Euphr.
Who thinkes it?
Mon.
I doe Madame, and your father.
Eu.
It is upon my vowed chastitie.
Mon.
What devill made you sweare to chastitie,
Or have you tane that oath onely for a terme.
Euphr.
A terme, what terme?
Mon.
A terme of some seven yeeres,
Or peradventure halfe the number more.
Euphr.
For terme of life.
Mon.
You have sworne to be forsworne,
He was no well disposed friend of yours,
That gave you consaile to forsweare such beautie,
Why tis as if some traveiler had found
A mine of gold, and made no vse of it.
For terme of life; why then die presently,
So shall your debt to nature be farre lesse;
Your tyranny over mans yeelding heart
Be lesse condemned: oh you were made for man,
And living without man, to murder men:
If any creature be so fortunate
That lives in grace of your all gracious selfe,
Though I am well perswaded 'tis not I
I vow by all the rites of vertuous love,
Be he ignoble, of the basest sort,
To please you Madame, Ile renounce my suite,
And be a speciall meane unto your father,
To grant your hearts affection, though I die.
Now Lord Montano you come neere my heart,
And were I sure that you would keepe your word,
As I am sure you love me by your deedes,
I might perchance deliver you my thoughts.
Mon.
By heaven, and by your beauteous selfe I will.
Euph.
Then Constantine come forth, behold thy friend.
Enter Constantine.
Con.
Madame what meane you, to reveale our love?
Mon.
This is a very stubborne Gentleman,
A Gentleman, a pesant, Saxonie affords not one more base.
Con.
He does me wrong, that termes me meaner then a gentleman.
Mon.
I tearme thee so.
Euph.
Why how now Lord Montano, you do forget your oath.
Mont.
And you your selfe,
Your Princely father, and the Dukedomes honour.
To chaine your liking to a groome so base.
Con.
He lies that calles me groome.
Enter Iulia.
Iu.
O God, forbeare,
His Excellence, your father's comming hither.
Mon.
He comes in happie time, to know the cause,
Why such great Princes have bin made your scorne.
Euph.
What will you tell him?
Mon.
Will I? let me die
Contemn'd of heaven, in publique obloquie,
If I reveale not this lascivious course.
Iu.
We are undone.
Con.
Hence with this prating Maide,
If thou hast any anger in thy brest,
Towards this Lady, turne it all on me,
She is a woman, timerous by her kinde,
I man-like borne, and beare a man-like minde.
Mon.
Ile trie your courage—draw.
Eup.
As thou fear'st my frowne,
As thou hast hope to thrive in thy new choice,
As thou respect'st the favour of the gods,
Welfare in any action thou intends,
Doe not reveale unto my fretfull father
Mon.
Why then forsweare him.
Euph.
Sooner set thy feet
Vpon my breast, and tread me to the ground.
Iu.
As thou art any thing more then a beast.
Doe not procure my Ladie such disgrace.
Mon.
Peace bawde, Ile have no conference with you.
Euph.
He cannot hurt me, 'tis my Love I feare,
Although my father be as sterne as warre,
Inexorable like consuming fire,
As iealous of his honour, as his crowne,
To me his anger is like Zephires breath,
Cast on a banke of sommer violets:
florish,
But to my Love, like whirlewinde to a boate,
Taken in midst of a tumultuous sea.
Enter Duke of Saxonie, and Fredericke.
Alas he comes, Montano, prethee peace,
Courage sweete Love.
Con.
I see our love must cease.
Euph.
Not if my wit can helpe,
It shall goe hard but Ile prevent the traitor.
Mon.
Heare me my Lord.
Eup.
Heare me my gracious father.
Mon.
Heare me my liege, ther's treason in your Court,
I have found a peasant in the Princesse closet,
And this is he that steales away her honour.
Euph.
This villaine gracious father 'tis that seekes
To rob me of mine honor, you your daughter.
Mon.
Now as you are a right heroike Prince,
Be deafe unto your daughters faire words.
Euph.
Be deafe to him, as you regard your selfe.
Duke.
What strange confusion's this, that cloyes our hearing?
Fred.
Speake beauteous sister, who hath done thee wrong?
Mon.
Her selfe.
Euph.
This traitor.
Fre.
Lord Montano.
Euphr.
Hee.
Fred.
Villaine thou dyest.
Stay, she meanes Constantine,
Hee that I found infolded in her closet,
Reaping the honour, which a thousand Lords
Have fail'd in seeking, in a lawfull course.
Con.
He does me wrong my gracious soveraigne.
Iu.
He wrongs my Ladie, an't please your grace.
Mon.
Ile tell the trueth.
Euph.
Or rather let me tell it.
Mon.
Lascivious love is ever full of sleights.
Euph.
Villaines that seeke by treason their desires,
Want no suggestion to beguile a trueth.
Mon.
I say, I found this peasant in her closet,
Kissing, imbracing, and dishonouring her.
Euph.
I say, an't please your gracious Excellence,
I found this Gentleman within my closet,
There set by subornation of this Lord,
And here appointed to dishonor me,
Speake, is't not true?
Con.
True, if it please your grace.
Duke.
What say you strumpet?
Iul.
Since my Ladie saies so,
I say and't please your Excellence.
Duke.
Speake woman.
Iu.
'Tis very true.
Mon.
O monstrous forgerie!
Fre.
O more then falshood to become so smooth,
In such a dangerous action.
Duke.
This is strange,
Montano seeke the ruine of my daughter.
Eup.
Because I would not yeeld unto his suite,
Which hee in rapefull manner oft hath sought,
Hee set this Gentleman to doe me shame,
Intending by exclaimes to raise the Court,
But that repentance in my waiting Maide,
And of his sorrowfull selfe, reveal'd the plot.
Mon.
O ye gods, how am I over-reacht!
Duke.
I know the yong man to be well discended,
Of civill carriage, and approved faith,
Con.
My conscience would not propagate that plot.
Ju.
Nor mine my Lord, though gold corrupted me.
Mon.
Cleane from the byas wit, by heaven rare wit,
Ile tell another tale, if they have done.
Duke.
What canst thou speake vild traitor,
Thou seest thou art prevented in thy plot,
And therefore desperately com'st any thing,
But I am deafe to all such stratagems.
Mon.
Will you not heare me?
Duke.
Forgeries and lies,
My daughters honour is of that high prize,
That I preferre it 'fore a traitors braine,
Let it suffice, we know she hath deni'd thee,
And some denied (like devills) turne their love,
Into excrutiation of themselves,
And of the parties whom they have belou'd;
Revenge begins where flatteries doe end,
Being not her husband, thou wilt be no friend,
Thus is thy policy by heaven prevented,
Therefore henceforth, we banish thee our Court,
Our Court? our territorie, every place,
Wherein we beare the state of Royaltie:
Vrge no replie, the fact is plainely prou'd,
And thou art hatefull where thou wert belou'd.
Mon.
My gracious Lord.
Duke.
We can afford no grace,
Stay here, and reade thy ruine in my face.
Mon.
I goe, contented with this heavy doome
'Twas mine owne seeking, faire, and wise adiew,
Deceit hath kil'd conceit, you know tis true.
Fre.
An vpright sentence of an act so vilde.
Duk.
Remove this waiting virgin from your chamber,
But let this gentleman attend on me,
The best may be deceiu'd by trecherie.
Euph.
Then so my gracious father may this maid.
Duke.
Then let her keep her place, beware of gold,
Now to our dying friend, his grace of Meath,
Daughter prepare you, you shall ride along,
For to that end we came, come sonne to horse,
Ere we come there, our friend may prove a coarse.
Euph.
Twas well done both, this action rarely fell,
where women trie their wits, bad plots prove well.
Exeunt omnes.
Enter three Beggers.
1.
Come away fellow louse, thou art ever eating,
2.
Have I not neede, that must feede so many
Cannibals, as will waite on me whether I will or no?
3.
Heres one in my necke, I would twere on thy shoulder.
1.
Keepe it your selfe, I have retainers enow of mine owne.
2.
But whether are you going now?
1.
Why, are you our King, and doe not know that?
2.
Your King? I am a very roguish King, and I have
A companie of lowsie subiects.
Enter Hatto, and Alfrid conferring.
2.
But looke about my ragged subiects here comes some body.
1.
O the devills, shall we aske them an almes?
2.
Why not, now the rats haue eaten up their brother Bishop,
they will be more charitable, your vocation you slaves.
3.
For the Lord sake be pittifull to a companie of poore men.
Hatto.
What cry is this? beggars so neere the doore
Of our deceased brother; whip them hence,
Or bring the Mastiffe foorth, worry them,
They are lazie drones, 'tis pittie such should live.
1.
I told you my Lord how we should find them: whip us,
Leade the way soveraigne, weele none of your whipping.
Hat.
Hence with these dogs, what make they neere this house?
2.
He will be eaten with rats too, he looks like a piece of cheese
alreadie.
Hat.
You Rogues.
Alf.
Good brother stay your selfe from wrath,
Thinke on the Bishop and his odious death.
Hat.
What odious death I pray?
Eaten with Rats,
Whilest he was liuing, for the wrong he did
Vnto the poore, the branches of our God.
Hat.
Tis true, and therefore call the poore againe,
Come hither friends, I did forget my selfe.
Pray for me, ther's some silver for thy wants.
2.
Now the Lord blesse you, and keep your good fate
From being Mouse-eaten, wee came thinking
Wee should have some dole at the Bishops funerall,
But now this shall serve our turne, wee will
Pray for you night and day.
Hat.
Goe to the backe gate, and you shall have dole.
Om.
O the Lord save thee.
Exeunt Beggers.
Hat.
These Beggers pray and curse, both in a breath,
Oh wherefore should we fawne upon such curres,
The mice of mankind, and the scorne of earth?
Alf.
So said our brother.
Hat.
And he was a Bishop,
Had read the Scripture, and knew what he said.
Alf.
But he hath brought that saying with his death,
With such a loathsome and notorious death,
As while the World's a World, 'twill speake of Meath.
Hat.
The Lord Archbishop of Meath, and die by Rats.
Alf.
He did proclaime reliefe unto the poore,
Assembled them unto a private Barne,
And having lockt the doore, set it on fire,
Saying, hee'de rid the countrie of such Mice,
And Mice and Rats have rid him from the World:
Hat.
Well, Ile not hurt the poore so publikely,
But privately I'le grinde their very hearts,
Torture them living, and yet have their prayers,
And by such meanes, that few or none shall know it.
Al.
In such a course Alfred would wind with you,
For though I counsail'd you to be more calme,
Twas not in pittie of their povertie,
But to auoide their clamour, to give nothing,
Flie in your face, and spit upon your beard,
No devill so fierce, as a bread-wanting heart,
Especially being baited with ill tearmes,
But what course can you take to plague these dogges?
Hat.
Why, buy up all the corne, and make a dearth,
So thousands of them will die under stalles.
Alf.
And send it unto forraine nations,
To bring in toies, to make the wealthy poore.
Hat.
Or make our land beare wood instead of wheate.
Al.
Inclose the commons, and make white meates deare.
Hat.
Turne pasture into Parke grounds, and starve cattle,
Or twentie other honest thriving courses;
The meanest of these, will beggar halfe a Kingdome.
Al.
I have a commission drawne for making glasse,
Now if the Duke come, as I thinke he will;
Twill be an excellent meanes to lavish wood,
And then the cold will kill them, had they bread.
Hat.
The yron Mills are excellent for that,
I have a pattent drawne to that effect,
If they goe up, downe goes the goodly trees,
Ile make them search the earth to find new fire.
Alf.
We two are brothers, and the Duke's our brother,
Shall we be brothers in Commission?
And Ile perswade him to authorize thee
His substitute in Meath, when he enioyes it.
Hat.
Death Ile get thee Regent under him
In Saxonie, to oppresse as well as I,
And we will share the profits, live like Kings,
And yet seeme liberall in common things.
Al.
Content, what though the Rats devour'd our brother?
Was not a Prophet murdered by a Lyon?
King Herod died of Lice, wormes doe eate us all,
The Rats are wormes, then let the Rats eate me,
Is the dead course prepar'd?
Hat.
Embalm'd and coffin'd,
The Citie keyes delivered to my hands,
Enter Constantine.
Con.
The Duke is comming if it please your honors.
Al.
And he is welcome, let the trumpets sound.
second florish.
Enter Duke of Saxon, Euphrata, and Iulia.
Hat.
Welcome, thrice welcome our renowned brother,
Loe at thy feete, the Citizens of Meath,
By us their Agents, do lay downe the keyes,
And by this crownet, and sword resign'd,
The state Maiestique to your Princely hands,
Discended to you, by our brothers death.
Duke.
Then with your loves, and persons we receive it,
Is then our brother the Archbishop dead?
Hat.
Too true my Lord.
Euph.
I am sorry for my Vncle.
Hat.
And of a death so publike by reporte.
Al.
Devour'd by Rats, in strange and wonderous sort.
Duke.
Could not this palace seated in the Rheine,
In midst of the great River, (to the which
No bridge, nor convay, other then by boats,
Was to be had) free him from vermine Rats?
Alf.
Against their kind, the land Rats took the water
And swomme in little armies to the house,
And though we drownd, and kild innumerable,
Their numbers were like Hydra's heads increasing,
Ruine bred more untill our brother died.
Duke.
The house is execrable, Ile not enter.
Hat.
You need not feare my Lord, the house is free,
From all resort of Rats, for at his death,
As if a trumpet sounded a retreat,
They made a kind of murmure, and departed.
Du.
Sure 'twas the hand of heaven, for his contempt
Of his poore creatures: but what writs are those?
Hat.
Commissions (if it please your grace) for glasse
For yron Mines, and other needfull things.
Duke.
Our selfe invested in the government
Hat.
Alfred our brother may awaite your grace
in Saxony, so please you to command.
Duke.
We are now but three, that lately have bin seven,
We have cause to love each other, for my part,
Betweene you both, we give a brothers heart,
Here, or at Saxonie, command at pleasure,
I weare the corronet, be yours the treasure.
Al.
We thanke our brother.
Duke.
Where's my sonne Fredericke.
Enter Fredericke with a gloue.
Fre.
Father, the state of Meath desire your grace,
To take the paines to passe unto the Senate.
Duke.
What glove is that son Fred. in your hand?
Fre.
I found it if it please your Excellence,
Neere to the state-house, the imbroiderie
Is very excellent, and the fashion rare.
Duke.
I have not seene a prettier forme of hand?
Daughter let's see, is't not too bigge for you?
Eup.
Sure 'tis some admirable worke of nature,
If it fit any hand that owes this glove,
If all the rest doe parallel the hand.
Duke.
Will it not on?
Euph.
Not for a diadem,
Ile trie no longer, lest I shame my selfe.
Duke.
Try Iulia.
Iu.
My hand's bigger then my Ladies.
Duke.
I cannot tell, but in my minde I feele
A wondrous passion of I know not what.
Fre.
The imbroidered glove may be some childs no womans
Duke,
I should mistrust as much, but that this place
Beares greater compasse then a childish hand,
I must command it.
Fre.
Willingly my Lord.
Du.
Then to the state-house brothers lead the way.
Exeunt Duke and brothers, and Fred.
Enter Otho.
Otho.
Yonder she goes, the mirrour of her sexe,
Stay beauteous Euphrata.
Euph.
Otho, what Iulia?
Ju.
Here Madam, what's your will.
Euph.
Call Constantine,
Tell him, his deare friend Otho is return'd.
Iu.
I will.
Otho.
Stay Iulia.
Euph.
Doe as I bid you, goe.
Exit Iulia.
Otho.
I had rather have a word or twaine with you.
Euph.
I have heard him oft enquire for thee his friend,
I have heard him sigh, I have seene him weepe for thee,
Imagining some mischiefe, or distresse
Had falne thee since the closets separation,
Otho.
And what a slave am I to wrong this friend.
Enter Constantine with Iulia.
Con.
Where is he?
Iu.
Here.
Con.
The welcom'st man alive,
Vnkind, how couldst thou stay from me so long?
Otho.
I have bin ill at ease, pray pardon me,
But I reioyce to see my friend so well.
Euph.
Some Ladies love hath made him melancholy.
Otho.
Shee hath read the letter that I lately sent her,
In a pomegranat, by those words I hope.
Con.
Why speak you not, is't love, or melancholy?
Otho.
If upon love my griefe is melancholy.
Con.
Ile haue the best Phisitians here in Meath.
Assay by art to cure that malladie.
Eup.
Gainst mellancholy minds your onely Phisick
Our Saxon doctors hold that principle,
Now I remember you did lately send me
A choice pomegranate, fetch it Iulia,
Some of those graines well stir'd in Gascoine wine,
Otho.
Madam, Ile none
Of all fruits, that I hate.
Eu.
And commended it so highly by the messenger
that brought it.
Con.
Twas well remembred, you shall take a graine.
Otho.
You will but vexe me.
Con.
So his melancholly
Doth make him froward with his dearest friend,
Enter Iulia with the pomegranate.
Tis well done Iulia, quickely cut it up,
And bring a cup of wine, or let me doo't.
Otho.
I see I shall be plagu'd with mine owne wit,
Being asham'd to speake, I writ my minde,
Were you my friends, you would not martyr me
With needlesse phisicke, fie upon his trash,
The very sight is loathsome.
Con.
Take it up,
But let me see, what letter's that that dropt,
Came it from you, or from the Spanish fruit.
Iu.
Tis all the graines that the pomegranate had.
Con.
Then ther's some trechery within these grains,
Ile breake it up,
And 'tis directed to my Euphrata.
Eup.
What may the tenure be, I pray thee reade it.
He opens the letter & reads.
Otho.
O fall upon me some wind-shaken turret,
To hide me from the anger of my friend,
O from his frowne, because he is my friend,
Were he an enemie, I would be bold.
But kindnes makes this wound; ô this horror,
The words of friends are stronger then their power.
Con.
Withdraw good Iulia.
Exit Iulia.
Eup.
'Pray what is it love?
Con.
Tis love indeed to thee, but to my heart
Every loose sentence is a killing dart.
I brought this Gorges to my hearts delight.
And he hath drown'd his senses with the sight,
Otho, thou hast done me more then iniurie,
Well maist thou fixe thy eye vpon the earth,
This action sith breedes a prodigious birth,
It is so monstrous and against all kinde,
That the lights splendor would confound thy minde.
Otho.
I have offended, prethee pardon me.
Con.
What cause did move thee?
Otho.
Her all-conquering sight.
Con.
Couldst thou usurpe upon my well known right?
Otho.
Thinke I am flesh and blood, and she is faire.
Con.
Thinke how I love thee.
Otho.
There proceeds my care.
Con.
Our amitie hath bin of ancient dayes,
During which time, wrong'd I thee any wayes?
Otho.
Never.
Con.
But rather I have done thee good.
Otho.
I grant you have, ô rather shed my blood,
Then number the kind deedes betweene us past,
For this unkindnesse here I love my last.
Euph.
He doth repent, and will renounce his suite.
Otho.
I doe renounce it.
Con.
O thou canst not do't.
Otho.
Suffer me stay a while in her faire sight,
'Twill heale my wound and all love banish quite.
Con.
The sight of the belov'd, makes the desire
That burnt but slowly, flame like sparkling fire.
As thou dost love me, take thee to some place,
Where thou maist nere see her, nor I thy face.
Otho.
By what is deere betwixt us, by our selves,
I vow hencefoorth ten thousand deaths to prove,
Then be a hinderance to such vertuous love.
Con.
Breake heart, tis for thy sake.
Otho.
When I am dead,
O then forget that I haue iniured.
Con.
O hell of love.
Otho.
Or rather hell of friends.
Firmely till they love.
Otho.
Then thus all friendship ends.
Exeunt.
| The Costlie Whore | |