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The Costlie Whore

A Comicall Historie, Acted by the companie of the Revels
  
  

 1. 
 2. 
Actus Secundus.
 3. 
 4. 
 5. 

  

Actus Secundus.

Enter Duke, Fredericke, Hatto and Alfred.
Hat.
Good brother heare some Musicke, twill delight you.

Al.
Ile call the Actors, will you see a play?

Fre.
Or gracious father, see me runne the race,
On a light footed horse, swifter then winde.

Duke.
I pray forbeare.

Al.
This moode will make you mad,
For melancholy Vshers franticke thoughts.

Hat.
It makes hot wreaking blood turne cold and drie,
And drithe and coldnesse are the signes of death.

Duke.
You doe torment me.

Fred.
Is it any thing
That I have done, offends your grace?

Hat.
Or comes this hidden anger from my fault?

Alf.
Heres none but gladly would resigne his life,
To doe you pleasure, so please you to command.

Duke.
Ifaith you are too blame to vexe me thus.

Hat.
Then grounds this sorrow on your brothers death?

Fred.
Or rather on the glove I lately found.

Duke.
A plague vpon the glove, whats that to me,
Your prating makes me almost lunatike.
As you respect my welfare, leave me, leave me,
The sooner you depart, the sooner I
Shall finde some meanes to cure my maladie.

Fred.
Our best course is to be obedient.

Exeunt all but the Duke.
Duke.
Farewell,
Was ever slave besotted like to me,
That Kings have lou'd, those that they never saw,
Is nothing strange, since they have heard their praise,
Birds that by painted grapes have bin deceiu'd,


Had yet some shadow to excuse their error,
Pigmalion that did love an Ivory Nimph,
Had an Idea to delight his sence,
The youth that doted on Minerva's picture,
Had some contentment for his eye
soft Musique,
But love, or rather an infernall hagge,
Envying Saxons greatnes and his ioyes,
Hath given me nothing but a trifling glove,
As if by the proportion of the case,
Art had the power to know the jewels nature,
Or Nimph, or goddesse, woman, or faire devill
If any thing thou art within my braine,
Draw thine owne picture, let me see thy face,
To doate thus grossely, is a grosse disgrace.
Musique within.
I heare some Musique, ô ye Deities.
Send you this heavenly consort from the spheares?
To recreate a love-perplexed heart.
The more it sounds, the more it refresheth,
I see no instruments, nor hands that play,
And my deare brothers durst not be so bold,
'Tis some celestiall rapture of the minde,
No earthlie harmonie is of this kinde,
Now it doth cease, speake who comes there?

Enter Fredericke, Alfred, and Hatto.
Fred.
Father.

Duke.
From whence proceeds the Musicke that I heard?

Fred.
The beauteous and the famous Curtezan,
Allyed unto the banished Montano,
Admir'd Ualentia, with a troope of youths,
This day doth keepe her yeerely festiuall,
To all her sutors, and this way she past
Vnto her Arbor, when the Musique plaide.

Duke.
Admir'd Ualentia, Curtezans are strange
With us in Germanie, except her selfe,
Being a Venetian borne, and priviledg'd,


The state allowes none here.

Fred.
Twere good for Meath she were unpriuiledgd
And sent to Uenice.

Al.
Of all the faces that mine eye beheld,
Hers is the brightest.

Duke.
Is she then so faire?

Hat.
O beyond all comparison of beautie.

Fred.
Vpon her hand,
Father I saw the fellow to your glove.

Duke.
What the imbroidred glove you lately found?

Fred.
Fellow to that.

Duke.
Then let it be restor'd.
What should a Prince retaine a strumpets glove?
O ye eternall powers, am I insnar'd
With the affection of a common trull,
Wheres your commissions that you would have sign'd,
'Tis time I had a president in Saxonie,
Receive our signet, and impresse them straight,
Ile remaine here in Meath, some little time,
Brother have care my Dukedome be well rul'd,
Here I put over my affaires to you,
My sonne I leave unto the ioyes of youth,
Tis pittie that his mind should be opprest
So soone with care of governments,
Goe to your pleasures, seeke your sister foorth,
Send Constantine to us, so leaue me all,
I am best accompanied with none at all.
Exeunt.
Manet Duke.
Either the Plannets that did meete together.
In the grand consultation of my birth,
Were opposite to every good infusion,
Or onely Venus stood as retrograde,
For but in love of this none loving trull,
I have beene fortunate even since my birth,
I feele within my breast a searching fire,
Which doth ascend the engine of my braine,
And when I seeke by reason to suppresse


The heate it gives, the greaters the excesse:
I loath to looke upon a common lip.
Were it as corrall as Aurora's cheeke,
Died with the faire virmillion sunne:
O but I loue her, and they say she is faire,
Now Constantine.

Enter Constantine.
Con:
Your grace did send for me.

Duke.
Lend me your habit in exchange of mine,
For I must walke the Citie for a purpose.

Con.
Withall my heart, my habit and my selfe.

Duke.
In any case, watch at the privie chamber.
If any aske for me, say I am not well,
And tho it be my sonne, let him not enter.

Con.
I will.

Duke.
Be carefull gentle Constantine,
Now faire Valentia, Saxon to thy bower,
Comes like a Iove to raine a golden shower.

Exit.
Con.
Prosper kind Lord, what ere the action be,
Counsailes of Princes should be ever free.

Exit.
Enter Valentia, and Montano.
Ua.
Torches and Musique there, the room's too darke.

Mon.
Prethee Neece
Abandon this lascivious unchaste life,
It is the onely blemish of our house,
Scandall unto our name, a Curtezan,
O what's more odious in the eares of men!

Val.
Then why doe men resort to Curtezans,
And the best sort; I scorne inferiour groomes.
Nor will I denie to draw aside my maske,
To any meaner then a Noble man.

Val.
Come, can you dance a caper and a kisse,
For every turne, Ile fold thee in my armes,
And if thou fal'st although no a kin we be,
That thou maist light fall soft, Ile fall under thee,
Oh for the lightnesse of all light heel'd girles.
And I would touch the Ceeling with my lips,
Why art thou sad Montano?



Mon.
On iust cause,
You know I am banish't from my natiue countrey.

Val.
This citie is Meath, thou art of Saxonie.

Mon.
But this belongs unto the Saxons Duke:
By the decease of the departed Bishop.

Ual.
Feare not, thou art as safe within my house,
As if perculliz'd in a wall of brasse.
Wheres Uandermas?

Enter Uandermas.
Van.
Madam did you call?

Mon.
What noble man is that, a sutor to you?

Val.
An excellent Pander, a rare doore-keeper.

Mon.
I had thought he had bin a gentleman at least.

Val.
Because of his attire?

Mon.
True.

Val.
O the attire, in these corrupted daies, is no true signe
To shew the gentleman; peasants now weare robes
In the habiliments of noblemen.
The world's grovvn naught, such iudgement then is base,
For Hares and Asses we are the Lions case.

Mon.
'Tis very costly and exceeding rich.

Val.
Riches to me, are like trash to the poore,
I haue them in abundance, gold's my slave,
I keepe him prisoner in a three-fold chest,
And yet his kindred daily visit me.

Mon.
Lord how diligent
Is this rich clothed fellow!

Val.
Were he proud,
And should but dare to stand still when I call,
I'de runne him through with a killing frowne.

Mon.
Why then belike his service is for love.

Val:
Why so are all the servants that attend mee,
They keepe themselves in sattin, velvets, gold,
At their owne charges, and are diligent,
Daies, moneths, and yeeres, to gaine an amorous smile.
Looke on my face with an indifferent eye.
And thou shalt finde more musicke in my lookes,
Then in Amphions Lute, or Orpheus Harpe,


Mine eye consists of numbers like the soule,
And if there be a soule, tis in mine ey,
For of the harmonie these bright starres make,
I comprehend the formes of all the world,
The story of the Syrens in my voyce,
Is onely verified, for Millions stand
In chanted, when I speake, and catch my words,
As they were orient pearle to adorne their eares,
Circe is but a fable, I transforme
The vertuous, valiant, and the most precise,
Into what forme of minde my fancie please,
Thou might'st bee proud great Lord of my abundance,
For in this beautie I shall more renowne
Our noble progenie, then all the pennes
Of the best Poets that ere writ of men.
Vnto your health, a health, let Musique sound,
Musick.
That what I taste, in Musique may be drown'd.
So, fill more wine, we vse to drinke up all,
Wine makes good blood, and cheeres the heart withal.

Van.
Madam, at such time as I heard you call,
A gentleman it seemes of good discent,
Humblie did craue accesse unto your honor.

Ualen.
What did he give?

Van.
A brace of bags of gold.

Valen.
He shall have libertie to enter straight,
But first inrich the chamber with perfumes.
Burne choice Arabian Drugs more deare then
Waters distil'd out of the spirit of Flowers,
And spread our costly Arras to the eye.
My selfe sufficiently doe shine in jems,
Where such faire coated Heraulds doe proceed,
It seemes he is honorable and of noble fame.

Mon.
Shall I behold this sutor?

Valen.
At the full,
At pleasure passe through every spacious Roome,
Be he a Prince, Ile know his high discent.


Or proudly scorne to give him his content,
What drum is that?

Van.
A Maske sent by a friend.

Valen.
Belike our selfe must know the mysterie,
Tell them we are prepar'd to see the Maske,
And bid the other noblemen come neere,
Thus am I hourely visited by friends,
Beautie's a counsellor that wants no fee,
They talke of circles and of powerfull spells,
Heres heavenly art, that all blacke art excells.

Mon.
Ile walke into the farther gallery.

Enter Duke.
Valen.
Sir you are welcome what so ere you be,
I guesse your birth great by your bounteous fee.

Duke.
Your humble servant bound by a sweet kisse.

Valen.
I give you freedome gentle Sir by this.

He whispers her.
Ual.
I know your mind, first censure of the sport,
Then you and I will enter Venus Court.

Du.
More then immortall, ô more then divine,
That such perfection should turne Concubine.

Mon.
That voice is like unto the Saxon Dukes,
I feare he hath heard I liu'd here in this place,
And he is come to doe me more disgrace,
Montano hide thy selfe till he be gone,
His daughter thirst for my destruction.
Exit Mont.

Val.
Come sit by me, the Maskers are at hand,
Enter Maske.
Where are my Maides, to helpe to make the dance?

Enter 2. Maids.
They dance, Valentia with them, they whisper to to have her play at dice, and stake on the drum.
Valen.
VVhat shall we have a Mumming? heres my jewell.

Play on the drum head.


Duke.
Thou art a iewell most incomparable,
Malicious heaven, why from so sweete a face
Have you exempt the mind adorning grace?

they stake and play.
She wins, the drum strikes up.
Val.
More gold, for this is mine, I thanke yee dice.

Duke.
And so are all that doe behold thy beautie,
Were she as chaste as she is outward bright,
Earth would be heaven, and heaven eternall night,
The more I drinke of her delicious eye,
The more I plunge into captivitie.

She wins, strike up.
Valen.
Have I wonne all? then take that back agen,
What scorne my gift, I see you are gentlemen,
No, is't not possible that I may know,
Vnto whose kindnesse this great debt I owe?
Well, Ile not be importunate, farewell,
Some of your gold let the torch-bearers tell.

Duk.
Beauteous Madona, do you know these galants?

Valen.
I guesse them of the Duke of Saxons Court.

Duke.
My subiects, and so many my corrivalls,
O every slave is grac't before his Prince.

Valen.
Are you not well sir, that your colour fades.

Duke,
If I be sicke, 'tis onely in the minde,
To see so faire, so common to all kinde.
I am growne iealous now of all the world,
Lady how ere you prize me, without pleasure,
More then a kisse, I tender you this treasure.
O what's a mint spent in such desire,
But like a sparke that makes a greater fire?
She must be made my Dutches, there it goes,
And marrying her, I marry thousand woes.
Adiew kind Mistresse, the next nevves you heare,


Is to sit crown'd in an Imperiall crowne.

Exit.
Valen.
Either the man dislikes me, or his braine,
Is not his owne to give, such gifts in vaine.
But 'tis the custome in this age to cast
Gold upon gold, to encourage men to waste,
Lightly it comes, and it shall lightly flie.
Whilst colours hold, such presents cannot die.

Exit.
Enter Reinaldo, Alfred and Albert.
Alb.
But this is strange, that I should have her honour?
So farre from Court, pray whither were you riding?

Alf.
Vnto your mannor, heard you not the newes.

Alb.
What newes?

Alf.
This morning by the breake of day,
His excellence sent to me by a post,
Letters, by which the pillars of the state
Should be assembled to a Parliament,
Which he intends my Lords, to hold in Meath.

Alb.
When if it please your honor?

Alf.
Instantly, withall the hast that winged time can make.

Albert.
Sooner the better,
Tis like the realmes affaires are of some weight.

Alb.
I will bee there to night,
And so I take my leave.

Reinal.
We take our leaves.

Exit Albert, and Reinaldo.
Alf.
Farewell my honor'd friend,
There is within my braine a thousand wiles,
How I may heape up riches, ô the sight
Of a gold shining Mountaine doth exceede,
Silver is good, but in respect of gold,
Thus I esteeme it.

Exit.
Enter Hatto with three petitioners.
Hat.
How now my friends, what are you?

1.
Poore petitioners.



Hat.
Stand farther then, the poore is as unpleasing
Vnto me as the plague.

2.

An't please your good Lordship, I am a Merchant
and gladly would convay a thousand quarters of wheate
and other graine over the sea, and heres a hundred
pounds for a commission.


Hat.
Thou art no beggar, thou shalt ha't my friend,
Give me thy money.

3.

I an't please your honour have a commoditie of
good broad cloth, not past two hundred, may I shippe
them over, and theres a hundred poundes.


Hat.
Thou shalt have leave.

1.
Although I seeme a poore petitioner,
My Lord I crave a warrant to transport
A hundred Cannons, fiftie Culverings,
VVith some slight armours, halberts, and halfe pikes,
And theres as much as any of the rest.

Hat.
Away Cannibal, wouldst thou ship ordnance?
What though we send unto the foes our corne,
To fatten them, and cloth to keepe them warme,
Lets not be so forgetfull of our selves
As to provide them knives to cut our throates,
So I should arme a thiefe to take my purse,
Hast thou no other course of Merchandize?
Thou shouldst get gold, twill yeeld thee ten in the hundred
On bare exchange, and raise the price with vs,
Make us for want, coyn, brasse, and passe it currant,
Vntill we find profit to call it in,
There are a thousand waies to make thee thrive,
And Ile allow of all bee it nere so bad,
Excepting guns to batter downe our houses.

1.
Letters of Mart I humblie then intreate,
To cease on Rovers that doe scoure the seas.

Hat.
And on our friends too, if thou canst do't cleanlie,
Spare none, but passe it very closely,
VVe will be loath to fist thy Piracie.
But open eare to heare what they complaine,


Hast thou a Letter?

1.
Ready drawne my Lord,
And heres a brace of hundred pounds for you.

Hat.
'Tis very well, I thinke I shall be rich,
If dayly tenants pay me rent thus fast,
Giue me your licenses, they shall bee seal'd,
About an houre hence, here attend our pleasure.

Omnes.
VVe thanke your Lordship.

Exeunt petiti.
Hat.
O vild catterpillers,
And yet how necessarie for my turne,
I have the Dukes seale for the Citie Meath,
VVith which Ile signe their warrants,
This corne and twentie times as much
Alreadie covertly convai'd to France,
And other bordering Kingdomes neere the sea,
Cannot but make a famine in this land,
And then the poore like dogs will die apace,
Ile seeme to pittie them, and give them almes,
To blind the world, 'tis excellent policie,
To rid the land of such, by such deuice,
A famine to the poore, is like a frost
Vnto the earth, which kills the paltry wormes,
That would destroy the harvest of the spring,
As for the which, I count them painefull men
VVorthy to enioy what they can get,
Beggars are trash, and I esteeme them so,
Starve, hang, or drowne themselves, I am alive,
Loose all the world, so I have wit to thrive,
But I must to the Parliament, and then
Ile have a clause to beggar some rich meu.

Exit.