University of Virginia Library

ACTVS TERTIVS.

Scena Prima.

Enter Duke, L. Raymond at one doore: Duchesse, Dorilus bare before her, leaning on his shoulder and giuing much grace vnto him.
Musicke.
Dor.
Sir, I haue a suite to you.

Duke.
Speake it.

Dor.
To know this Gentleman, and if not for my sake,
For his owne to grace him, he has deseru'd it.

Duke.
He has.

Dorilus kneeles, the Duke draws his sword and runs it in his bosome.
Iul.
O my deare brother.

Dor.
What do you meane Sir.

Duke.
Away with her to prison, and let her father,
And her brother both be turn'd out of the Court.
Lord Raymond, be it your charge to see it done.

Exit.
Ray.
Vnwillingly I obey you; O my hart dances,
And tun'd vnto so many ioyes, it beates
My bloud about me into euery part,
That I grow yong againe; Alas good Lady,
Why do you weepe? these teares were well becomming
If you had any crime to wash away,
But you are cleere as heauen; then beare your selfe
As confident and shining, that stands vnshaken,
When men speake blasphemie and throw vp curses:
Beware sweet Princesse, your too zealous care,
Exprest in the behalfe of your firme friend,
May be by some informing Eare snatcht vp,
And carryed to the Duke, which wud pile high,
And heighten vp the mountaine of his wrath.

Dor.
Let it be so, and let that mountaine fall,
And all the world, with his displeasure on me,
But hidden in the ruine, yet at last
It is my comfort, I shalbe found my selfe.

Ray.
What a well built castle is a cleare Conscience?
No Batterie, no Inuasion stirres it,
When a guiltie on, is like a Spiders web,
Shooke with the motion of each little flye.
What helpe there lies in me much iniur'd Lady,
Assure your selfe of it, as if your owne heart
Had the powre to worke it.

Enter a Guard.
Dor.
I shud wrong much noblesse to thinke otherwise.

Ray.
See Madame, here's a Guard vpon you.

Dor.
They are welcome.

Ray.
So, the diuell when he meaneth to seduce,
Puts on an Angels shape, who doth not know.
How to dissemble, must not thinke to grow
Or prosper in his purpose. In this plot
Enuie alone is not exprest, but hot
Vntameable desires, which flame so hie;
One mischiefe must another satisfie,
I loue, faire Iulia, and there was no way
How to obtaine, but bringing to decay
The greatnes of the Princesse; miserie
Will burst the strongest barre of Chastitie.
She come.

Enter Iulia.
Iul.
Where is my wretched Mistresse?

Ray.
Alas, shee is lost, and those that seeke her,
Must be companions of her miserie.
Therefore be wise faire Iulia, and forget her;
Thou art as faire as she, as excellent;
And I that rule the Duke do thinke so.

Iul.
What meanes this?

Ray.
The meaning is like him, that vtters it,
Plaine and sincere, to make thee Mistresse
Of all the happinesse which thou canst wish;
As she whom I create shall stand aboue,
And laugh at the calamities of others:
Looke not vpon my haires, I'm not so old
But I can kisse thee into Action,
Infuse a breath into you through your Eare,
Shall call a flaming blush into your cheeke,
And turne this spring-tide of your teares to fire,
Or change 'hem into blood, and strike 'hem inward,
To incite a heate as sensuall as the same
That did beget you.

Iul.
I am vncapable of this ill language:
But suppose I were (my Lord) as you esteeme me,
Is this a time, when my heart's full of sorrow,
Ready to breake for their vnfortunate fates,
To giue admittance to so loathed a fact,
That neuer coud be tempted in the height
Of festiuals: and all the soothing flatteries
Trust vp in vowes and glories of a Court.

Ray.
Why? I will giue you libertie to thinke,
To ponder on it for a little time;
For I wud rather Loue should make thee mine
Then Violence or Feare. Consider of it
Without delayes, returne me absolute:
I am not like your dull cold Englishman,
That can attend his Mistresse a whole day,
A weeke, a month, a yeare, yet checke his blood,
And when it shud haue vent to burst in fire,
He weepes out in water. The Sunne burnes
Not outward, as my blood within, passions beate
So thicke and short, they make my entrailes sweate.
But for a while I leaue you, thinke and be wise.
Exit Ray.

Iul.
Tis wisdome to conceale what I do thinke,
And truth to call thee villaine: O we are
Ruin'd all of vs are ruin'd,

Enter Bernard.
Bern.
Yonder she is, and weeping—
Who will not be in loue with sorrow, while it takes vp
Her dwelling in that face, it is a question?
Whether smiles more adorne that cheeke then teares.

Iul.
O worthy Sir, how does my brother?

Bern.
Well, donnot you'feare it Lady.

Iul.
Why doe you leaue him?

Ber.
To comfort you that haue more need of it,
For he sits vp and laughs at miserie,
Enter Fred.
With hope to out liue it which is fortitude
Fitting a noble spirit.

Fred.

Fortune my foe why dost thou frowne on me, &c.
A good voyce is a perpetuall comfort to a man, he shall
be sure he cannot want a Trade. Yonder's Madam Iulia,
and the Italian Doctor administring, they looke
like a couple of Tragedians in the fourth Act, out of
countenance. Right Worshipfull, Charitable, most
Bountifull and well disposed, please you to looke vpon
the Estate of a poore decayed Lord, blowne out of the
bosome of good Fortune, vnto the backe side of mens
Bounties, from whence a sweete gale of good will may
arise to blow mee out of the dead sea of want and despaire,
into the happy Hauen of good harbor, where I
may lie at rest from hunger and cold, bound vnto you
in the bed-rolle of beneuolence, which howsoeuer small
a pittance it shall be, in this ebbe of aduersitie, it shalbe
returned treble to you againe in the next tyde of prosperitie
—Sweet Madame,

Ex. Ber. & Iul.
Why here is the right fashion of the world,
To turne the backside to a man that has no money?
They are gone to wash away griefe in salt water,
I meane to drowne it in good Claret.
Enter Smi.
O curteous fortune that hath sennt me a Companion.
Smirke, how dost thou chicken? come hold vp thy head,
And let's see the dismalitie of thy Countenance,
The dolefull dumps that therein do appeare,
The Knobbles of aduersitie and Fate. Hum.—

Smir.
Oh, Oh.

Fre.
What Oh? where lies the Crampe?

Smir.
Oh, Oh.

Strikes his breast.
Fre.
With that the moody squire thumpt his breast,
And rear'd his eyes to heauen for reuenge.
Speake sweet Ieronimo.

Smir.
First take my tongue, and afterward my heart.

Fre.
Good both being out, now let vs haue the Story.

Smir.
Kickt with disgrace, and turn'd out of the Court
Both to the guard and blacke guard made a sport.

Fre.
Excellent Smirke.

Smi.
To Landresses and Lackies made a scorne,
And to all other people quite forlorne.

Fre.
One, time more, and I will crowne thee Fennar Lawriate.

Smir.
The Carters, Colliers, and the Carriers curst me
The Porters puld me, and the Pages purc't me.

Fre.
Why this tis to be a squire Smirke before your time
And your boy to be a Gentleman before you haue him.

Smir.

O that I had bin so happy to haue liu'd and cleft
wood i'the countrey, preacht at the Buttery barre vnto
the Ploughmen, and there haue vsde my authoritie in
Folio, when all the seruants of the house shud be drunke
at midnight, Cum Priuilegio.

Fre.
I, those were certaine dayes, but what wut thou do now?

Smir.
Learne to winde whipcord, and go hang my selfe.

Fre.
But where didst thou leaue my father?

Smi.
I left him condoling with two or three of his friends
At the signe of the Lamentation.

Enter Callow and Ranoff.
Fre.
The Salutation thou meanst.

Smi.
In the Salutation one way, and the Lamentation
The tother—Here comes more abuse.

Cal.
Me thinkes sirrah, since my tongue brake loose,
I take an infinite pleasure in't, how thinkes thou?

Ran.
Your Lordship talkes wondrous current,
For your word will go before many a mans bond.

Cal.
It shall run before any mans bond for a wager.
My honourable Lord, how does the great Dutchesse,
Your sister?

Ran.
And the good Earle your father.

Cal.

With the rest of your kindred and acquaintance
that bore the Court before 'hem.

Ran.

I hope a man may court his Mistresse now without
a Patent from your honor.

Fre.
I hope a man may cracke your pipkin Pate,
And cut your necke of Mutton into Steakes,
If you will not be quiet, ye brace of wicker bottles.

Ran.
Wicker Bottles! he cals vs wicker bottles.

Fre.
I and mustie ones.

Cal.
And mangie ones to, are we not?

Fre.

Yes, euery thing that's troublesome and stinkes
you are.

Cal.
Ha, ha, prithee laugh at him.

Ran.
I, we will laugh at him, but let vs goe,
For the fellow is desperate, and perhaps may beate vs;
Such people feare no law.

Cal.
Hang him, hee dares not within the confines of the Court.

Ran.
I, but we may talke our selues out of the liberties,
And then he may beate vs without the confines.
Yet if he did, twere all one to me, for I can
Endure a beating as well as another man,
Custome's another Nature: but yet I wud we were gone.

Cal.

Why, come then lets goe backe againe? For my

owne part, I donnot care for quarrelling: here wee may
be bold, though my Lord, I haue a poore sister I wud
prefer to cut your Honors toes.

Ran.

And I haue a proiect, if it please your Honor to
set it on foote, it may make a great many of vs ride a
horsebacke.

Fre.
O that the place were not priuiledg'd.

Smir.
I, and the place were not priuiledg'd.

Fre.
Why? what wudst thou doe?

Smir.
Let 'hem alone, and laugh at 'hem.

Fre.
Why, gramercy Smirke, thou hast instructed me.
A my conscience I shud now do so.

Smir.
Yet he he gaue me a bob i'the proiect.

Fre.
Why? hast thou any thing to do with proiects?

Smi.

Yes, I was to prefer one for putting downe Pigs
i'the Faire time.

Fre.

How? putting down Pigs, prythy let's heare that?

Smi.

Why, a fellow that will vndertake to finde the
Country people, and the people of the Faire, with good
repast for three pence a meale.

Fre.
How can that be? prythy let's vnderstand?

Smir.
Why Sir, A cook wil vndertake to bake in a pasty
Foure oxen, without Butter corner wise,
Lambe and Mutton in the middle,
All kinde of Fowle on each side,
With their bils lying out to discouer their condition,
With which he wilbe bound to find the fair seuen daies,
And giue the ouerplus to the poore.

Fre.
This is a very prittie one and profitable.

Smir.

Then I haue another, for the crying of small
Beare, from sixe i'the morning, till twelue at noone, for
all that are Barnabie.

Fre.

A most necessary one, and had it bin propounded

when I was a Lord, it shud haue had my countenance.

Smir.

Nay, it wud ha gone forward, for all your high
bloods wud a countenanc'd it, yet it was thought there
was a rich Milke-woman wud a crost it, and haue
brought it to posset drinke i'the winter, and whay i'the
Summer, and the Apothecaries wud haue ioyn'd with
her, to haue clarified it.

Fre.
Not vnlikely. But Smirke, what is your purpose?

Smi.
To stay till the good time, and take a whipping,
With as much resolution as a man may take a whipping

Fre.
Then you looke for the Lash?

Smir.

I donnnot looke for it, because it comes with a
backe blow, and there is no ward for it but Patience.

Fre.
Why thou saist right, and it is manly done,
Not to run from, but to meete affliction.

Smir.

I, but when affliction comes like a Fury, with a
whip in her hand, 'tis a sore matter.

Exeunt.

Scena secunda.

Enter Landoffe in his study, a spirit to him.
Spi.
Leaue with thy potent charms to teare th'elements
And vexe the poore inhabitants: here is the Ring
Transparant as the day, that makes the wearer
Lost to all sight, and walke inuisible
To euery eye but yours: And when so ere
It is your pleasure it shall loose its vertue,
Toucht but with this herbe and it fals in peeces.

Lan.
Thanks my industrious spirit.

Spir.
What else is thy command?

Lan.
Nought else at this time, but on all occasions
Thou in a thought be ready to attend.

Spir.
I shall.

Exit.
Lan.

Begon. Dorilus, Bernard come forth, all things
are at peace

Enter Dorilus and Bernard.
As your hearts shalbe ere I part from you,
At least forsake you: Behold this little Ring.
Purer then Christall, full of subtiller flame
Then that which sparkles i'the Diamond;
Of Vertue infinite beyond its Beautie.
With this Ring Dorilus thou shalt free the Princesse
At least endeauour; 'tis certainely reported
At her Arraignment, as the howre comes on,
She shall haue none to pleade her cause for her,
But her supposed crime layde ope, and vrg'd
Withall the mouth of law, and so condemn'd:
Yet thou that euer couldst speake well, without
A cause so full of matter and of Truth,
Shalt hidde to all eyes, by vertue of this Ring,
Become an Orator, and pleade for her,
And make the Court amaz'd to heare thee speake.

Dor.
You amaze me, first to heare you—

Lan.
But Ile amaze my Pupill Bernard more,
When he shall stand by thee and heare thee talke,
Yet not haue powre to see thee: Put on this Ring,
Now tell me Bernard where is Dorilus?

Ber.
Into aire vanished, or suncke into the earth,
For I protest I see no Dorilus.

Lan.
Call to him, try if he heare thee.

Ber.
Dorilus, Dorilus.

Doril.
Why here man, I am here.

Ber.
Here; where?

Dor.
Why here, close by thee, now I touch thee.

Ber.
This is thy hand?

Doril.
Yes.

Ber.
It may be foote for any thing that I know, but that
Now I feele the fingers, thou maist hold it vp at the Bar
And nere be burnt i'the hand Ile warrant thee.

Doril.
Why? I see thee plaine as I did before,
And euery thing else.

Ber.

But that I haue confidence in my Master and
his Art, I wud neuer looke to see thee againe.

Lan.
Looke you Iulia your Mistres, comfort her,
And take the worke vpon you:
Ile to my blew coate againe, and instantly wait on you.

Ber.
All your best wishes. Fairest.

Enter Iul.
Iul.
O Sir they lye in you.

Ber.
O you speake musicke to the melancholly,
Health to the sicke.

Iul.
For next vnto the deliuery of my Mistresse,
My brothers welfare is, which you promised.

Doril.
Why sister I am well? next vnder Heauen
I prayse this Gentleman.

Iul.
That is his voyce, where are you brother?

Doril.
Here sister iust before you.

Iul.
Before me?

Doril.
Yes, in the very mouth of you, as a man wud say

Iul.
Trust me I cannot see you.

Doril.

Trust me I'm glad of it, Ile talke the bolder and
and the lowder, they shall heare me.

Ber.
This I perceiue dooes somewhat trouble you.
But let it not, it shalbe for a good,
Which though it cannot change, may stir your blood.

See they are hot in preparation, and people making to
behold the Arraignement.

Exeunt.

Scena tertia.

Enter Ferdinando, Cornelius.
Ferd.

Fortune is a good huswife, she plies her wheel wel

Alas poore Lady, I pitty her; for a my conscience she is
cleare of the fact layd to her.

Cor,

It is the maddest world, the report goes shee
shud lie with on for a Nosegay.

Ferd.

In some things Fame wilbe free I see, in some
things scant; for Ile assure you 'twas for a Garland.

Cor.

Why a Garland let it be, she had bin better won
it with some other dance then the old one: but she has
hard measure me thinks, not to be allowed an Aduocate;
for alas, what can a woman say for her self in such a case?

Fer.

Dost thou thinke an Aduocate can handle it
better?

Cor.

Yes, if he haue a feeling of the businesse.

Fer.

Away Traytor.

Enter the Duke, Iudges, Raymond, with others, the forme of a Court.
Iudge.

Bring forth the prisoner, place her at the Barre.

Enter Dorigen plac'd at the Barre.
Iudge.

Reade the Inditement.

Clarke.

Dorigen Ebroistene, daughter to Guide Ebroisten,
in the Prouince of Mysen Gentleman; and by the grace
and fauour of our Soueraigne Lord Duke of Saxonie
made Duchesse, atainted of high Treason, by
committing Adultery with one Dorilus Truchesse, a priuate
Gentleman of the same Prouince of Mysen, who by
good and sufficient witnesse (beside her own shamelesse
confession to the Duke himselfe) is here iustly accused,
and indited of the fact; yet the Duke out of his most
gratious clemencie, desirous of a direct and lawfull proceeding,
admitteh the sayd Dorigen—daughter to
the aforesayd Guido—to answer for her selfe, and
wisheth with all his soule (such is his infinite affection to

her, that she could cleere her selfe of the crime. So Heauen
and the Iustices of her cause defend her!

1 Iudg.

Speake Lady, free and fearelesse, what can you
say?

Dor.
Nothing but that I do desire to die,
For it is sin enough that the Duke thinks
I am guilty of the fact, all the Clemency
That you can, shew me or I do desire,
Is to condemne me quickly.

Ray.
That I must speake it grieues me in a cause,
Which I cud wish neuer had presidence,
As it hath had too often, alas that I
Who do bleede inward, to behold this woman
Falne by a sin equall to Lucifer.
From her cleere Heauen where she stood a starre,
Mouing in his armes as her proper Orbe,
That I shud see this woman as I say.
Who had she bin a fixed one, had neuer
Shot from her sphere, but as an exhalation,
Drawne by the attractiue vertue of the Sun,
Appeares a glorious star yet wanting matter.
To maintaine his lustre, shoots forth his flame:
And drops from whence it came vnto a Dunghill,
So was this woman rais'd and so she fell:
That so much Beauty which was giuen for Honour,
And did aduance her to it, shud cause shame,
Who can tell whether this be the first man,
That she hath find withall, since vsually,
Many faults are committed ere one found,
She promised the fellow of her lust,
Vpon condition to make that: And what was it?
A Garland: A Garland of all flowers,
Of what effect who knowes, or to what purpose,
Both being as certaine as the thing it selfe,
How or from whence it came nay more then this;
She was so impudent to tell the Duke,
And tell him she had sworne, which the immodests,
And most professed Strumpet neuer wud:
What name of shame is to be giuen this woman,
That wud thus lewdly suffer the wild tongue,
Proclayme performance of so vild a deede,
And vnto him she knew did loue her so,
She might perhaps by her beauty and her teares,
Or both together stir compassion,
In many here, and in the Duke himselfe,
But when her crime shall be remembred,
A crime so beyond mercy being done,
Vnto a Prince; and such a Prince as he is,
What can I lesse inspire me all ye powers?
That thought me worthy of authority
Then without pitty to condemne this woman.

1. Iudg.
The case is too apparant.

Ray.
Is it not graue Fathers.

2 Iudg.
Yes indeede it is, I was almost asleepe.

Ray.
Ye all do know, all ye that know the Law,
VVho pardoneth the offender doth commit,
An offence equall with him that doth punish,
The harmelesse innocent then she must dye,
I grieue to speak't and am so charitable,
To wish that her reproach may dye with her.

Duke.
I thanke thee for the last speech, it was well,
O that she now cud speake and cleere her selfe.
But proceede, giue sentence, if she stay long,
And I stand by a witnesse of her teares,
Sheele weep her selfe guiltlesse and innocent.
Therefore go on.

Doril.
Stay.

Duke.
Whose that?

1 Iudg.
I know not.

Ray.
Whence come that voyce.

Cor.
Out of the clouds I thinke,
For no man dares owne it.

Duke.
Go forward and giue sentence.

Doril.
Stay I say.

1 Iudg.
It spoke againe.

2 Iudg.
It came by my Eare.

Fer.
The Court is troubl'd.

Doril.
Heare me ye ministers of Iustice.
And thou Patron of it and Truth,
That comes to you for succour, and for safety.

Duke.
Keepe your places, for let it be the Diuell
I will heare him; and hearing shall determine
Whether he be a spirit of Truth or Lies.

Doril.
The All preseruer that guards Innocence,
And often lets it pine, but neuer perish,
Can raise a voice from stones, or trees, or windes,
To pleade the cause that neds no Eloquence.
What hath this Lady done that here you bring her
Vnto a Barre of shame? If ist for being vertuous,
Because she hath bin constant to her Lord:
But some haue cald her chastitie in question,
That neuer had a sparke in their owne Breasts,
And haue possest the Duke from his owne thoughts,
That she must needs be bad because they are so.
Has euery woman so much wit to hide
That fault especially? and had not shee,
Who is the mirror of of her sexe for that,
More then for Beauty? But she told the Duke
She had offended in an idle promise,
And that's obiected to her for a crime;
A peece of impudence vnparalleld.
When had she meant to haue wrong'd her royall Lord,
She wud haue lockt the secret in her heart,
And set her face with smiles, beaten with kisses
Suspition from his bosome; but she discouered
The guift, the giuer, and the vow that bought it.
Who ist not knowes, dishonestie consisteth
In the deed done, not in the spoken word?
And she imagining the deed in which
She imployed the doer, neuer to be done,
And so the wickednesse. Let me not be thought tedious
Nor be offensiue, if I bring to minde
The meeting of those two, how she reuealed,
That you great Duke consented to the fact,
Encourag'd her vnto't, and led her on,
If she had bin a villaine to her death.
But he looking on her, and seeing in her eyes,
The image of faire Vertue how it wept,
Gaue backe her vowes, and freed her from his heart,
In that shape first she stood, but againe plac'd her
As his most royall mistresse, and your wife.

Duke.
Excellent voyce go on, for I coud stand
A tedious winter but to heare thee talke.

Cor.
So coud not I without a rug Gowne.

Doril.
It hath bin still a maxime, she's not chast
That hath not bin attempted, but she who hath stood
Temptation, and resisted. Gold is the purer
For being tryde; and Vertue put in act,
Appeares more glorious, when it hath wrought it selfe
Out of those troubles which would stifle it.
Heauen was assaulted by the Giants once,
Which shewd Iones powre the greater: the pensiue soule
Fighting with sin, the diuell, and with death,
After the victory, triumphs and sings
Eternally amongst the blessed Angels,
Crown'd with perpetuall Peace and happinesse.
But she for being vertuous must die,
For conquering her affections, for louing
Sincerely, and effectually, her Lord;
For hauing not the cunning to dissemble,
But for being Simple, Chast, and Innocent,
Iust, Noble, Beautious, Excellent in all,
Saue what no common woman wud haue mist.
For this, and for this onely she must die.

Duke.
No, she must liue; and all the world must die,
To me, before a haire of her shall perish.
O I haue wrong'd thy goodnesse, now I see't,
who was before made blind with iealousie,
The heauens take thy part, and wunnot suffer
So much of worthinesse to fall at once,
Lest nothing here but wickednesse abound.

Ray.
Sir, will you heare me,

Duke.
Away, I will heare nothing but her Angels voice,
And that which spoke for her, which was no lesse,
It held such musicke in it, besides Truth.
Wipe from thine eyes those teares; let Messengers
Be sent to find the Earle my father forth,
And bring him backe to the Court, there to receiue
Of vs his dignities and fauours trebled;
I am new fram'd againe. Afflictions meet,
And mingling with our ioyes, make them more sweet.

Exit.
Cal.
I donnot like this.

Ran.
Nor I.

Ber.
Faire one, pray stay, your brother wud speake with you.

Iul.
Sir, you may command me, and for his sake,
To th'vtmost of my powre, I am bound to you.
O my deare brother, how you ioy my soule
To see you vp againe, in health, and lusty?

Dor.
Place your thanks here kind sister, for to his skill,
Next vnder Heauen, it must be attributed.

Iul.
I do know it brother, and do thanke him,
Heartily thanke him, and the Duches shall,
That owes him equally as much as we,
Thanke him a better way.

Ber.
No Lady, your thanks payes me really,
And I will neuer looke for better pay,
Nor take, then comes from you; pray looke vpon me,
And see if you can fasten your affection
Vpon a man so vnworthy as my selfe.

Iul.
Sir you are worthy of a better choyce,
But let me for your owne sake thus aduise you,
If you haue entertaind any such thought,
(As I hope you are wiser) to part with it;
For trust me, this poore heart I carry here.
Is not mine owne; I do but walke with it,
And keepe it for another: pray no more Sir,
Brother farewell, I shall be wanting to the Duches.

Exit
Lan.
Lost it, it cannot be.

Doril.
Now talking with you, plucking off this gloue,
It fell out of my hand.

Lan.
Seeke good Sir.

Enter Fred.
Fred.
And do we see the golden dayes againe?
Does honor once more Court vs? then looke vp.
Looke vp my friends I say, and see your Lord
Double and treble guilt; his happinesse
Hatcht, and inlaide, not to be worne out with Time.
What do you looke for?

Lan.
A Iewell we haue lost.

Fred.
A Iewell, let it be hang'd, Ile giue you euery one
Iewels a peece, shall ouer value it,
There's not a friend I haue, but shall haue stones,
As faire and weighty as the Turke hath any,
And Concubines like him, though not so many.
Ye shall good Doctor, thou art so melancholly.

Lan.
Come, let it alone.

Doril.
How? let it alone.

Lan.
Yes, for lost it cannot be, if any finde it,
When I am pleas'd to haue it, I will send
A messenger shall fetch it with a vengeance.
Prythy forbeare, and let vs heare my Lord.

Fre.

Gentlemen what will yee doe? will yee come to
Court, and be grac't by me, will you be Knights or Officers,
Gentlemen vshers, or of the Bedchamber? speake
what youle be whilst I am i'the giuing vaine, and you
are so.

Lan.
Weele waite on you to morrow my good Lord.

Fre.
You blew Bottle Basket hilt I talke not to you,
And th'other two are stupid, now I thinke on't:
Dorilus you were best leaue the Court; a man
Suspected once, is very sildome found
In his heart that suspects him to be sound:
There ye haue a touch of my Policy, farewell.

Doril.
Farewell my Lord.

Fre.
Thinke on't.

Passing by spies the Ring.
Dor.
Ile warrant you.

Fre.
Whats this? A ring: that i'st and trust me,
A very pleasing one vnto the eye,
Some Lady lost it, for whose sake ile weare it,
Vntill I find a challenger, it may be
Twas lost a purpose and here dropt for me.

Exeunt