University of Virginia Library

ACTVS PRIMVS.

Scena Prima.

Enter Bernard in his Studie, Candle and Bookes about him.
And here againe,
'Tis true, things most incredible are to be done,
And I beleeue thee gentle Booke in it.
Neuer before my warie Tutor did
Leaue this doore open, which he well might call
His priuate Studie; for here Secrets lye
Were worth mans labour to arriue to 'hem:
Here are the Names, Shapes, Powers, and Gouernment
Of euery seuerall Spirit, their Degrees,
Their great Effects, particular Seigniories;
And 'mongst them I haue found one, if I had
But skill to rayse him for my purposes,
And here's the forme of it set downe at large:
But stay, what's this?

Amaymon King of the East, Gorson King of the South,
Zimimar King of the North, Goap King and Prince
of the West, may be bound from the third houre till
Noone, Dukes may be bound from the first houre till
Noone.

Pish, this is nought to me.

Asmody, a great King, strong and mightie, he is seene
with three heads; whereof the first is like a Bull, the second
a Man, the third a Ram: he hath a Serpents tayle,
he belcheth Flames out of his Mouth, he sitteth on an
Infernall Dragon, he carryeth a Lance and a Flag in
his hand, he goeth before others which are vnder the
power of Amaymon, he giueth the Ring of Vertues, he
teacheth Geometry, Arithmetick, Astronomie; to all
demaunds he answereth fully and truely: he maketh a
man inuisible.

I, this.

He sheweth the places where Treasure lye.

I donnot care for Treasure.

He maketh a man inuisible.

This, this is it: Great Asmody, thou art the Spirit whom
I would conuerse with, And I will fetch thee, if this
Charme will doe it.—

Now I haue layd my Circle, feare assaults me: So
sayes my graue Instructor all men doe when they begin
this Businesse; but bids me here be resolute, and dread
not: for bound in this Circle, and by these words constrain'd,
they cannot hurt me.

I doe coniure thee by these potent Names:

Panthon, Adonay, Algramay, Planaboth, Muriton, Bisecognaton,
Siston, Diaton, Maton, Tetragrammaton, Agla, Agarion,
Tegra, Pentessaron, Tendicata, Sorthie, Sorthia, Sorthios,
Milia, Achilia, Sibylia, You the three Faierie sisters
of the Ring come and appeare to me, or send your faithfull
seruant Asmody, or I will call the fiue Kings of the
North.

Enter Landoffe his Tutor like a Spirit.
Land.

For what thou daring Mortall? what wut thou
doe with Asmody, now thou hast brought him hither?

Ber.

I doe commaund thee that thou helpe me to the
inuisible Ring.

Lan.

Ho, ho, ho, Thou foolish Thing without Art, and
lesse Wit, Do'st thinke it doth require no more but so?

It is thy Masters Master-piece to doe it,
And thou do'st call for nothing but thy Ruine.
Thou art now in my power, and I can teare thee
As small as Atomies, and throw thee off
Like dust before a wind: yet for I know thou art
Pupill vnto my Master, and his Minion,
And mayst hereafter with a word release me,
Here vnconstrayn'd, I vow my selfe thy seruant,
And will (acquaint me with thy purposes)
Effect them to the vtmost of my power.

Ber.

Do'st thou not this in subtiltie, to draw me out
of my Circle, and then ruine me?

Lan.

I dare as well runne on the fierie Sword that
wounds Malantha, Thama, or Sitrami.

Ber.
I doe beleeue thee:
Then be gone; yet stay, a word more:

Thinks thou my Tutor, if I should conceale this Act of
mine from him, that he would know it?

Lan.

I thinke not: for hee hath giuen mee libertie
these fiue dayes.

Ber.

Thanks Asmody: now leaue me.

Lan.

I am gone.

Ber.

I will get leaue of him to returne back vnto my
Fathers house, where I will liue, if Asmody can doe it,
inuisible.

Not farre off is a Damsell whom I loue,
But neuer yet durst tell her, nor did know it
So feelingly, as now I am remou'd.
'Tis almost day I wisht, though not for feare,
For loue ha's made me a bold Coniurer.

Exit.
Lan.
And thou wert bold indeed: but youth is desperat,
Respects not dangers, howsoe'r they looke.
I came my selfe vnto this Art with trembling,
And when I first had rays'd a Spirit vp,
My flesh me thought ran like my bloud about me,
And I sat bathed in a cold faint sweat.
But he was farre from raysing any Spirit:
He ran 'hem so disorder'd, that no Deuill,
Though he had heard him, wud haue knowne his name.
But it was my deuice, seeing him grow
To extreme Melancholy and Discontent,
To let him view these scatt'red papers thus,
That I might sound his griefe, knowing how apt
And couetous youth is of euery knowledge,
If he might learne it with a little babbling:
But this is not an Art so to be gain'd.
Ile follow him, attending still vpon him,
As if I were the Spirit he guesses me:
And if there shall be cause, Ile play my part
So well, that men shall prayse the Magick Art.

Scena secunda.

Enter Dorigene and Dorilus.
Dor.

Good Seignior no more irruptions, I tell you
what you shall trust to: I am not like a Mill, to be turn'd
with wind and water; not all your sighes and teares can
alter me, keepe 'hem for Custard-eating Dames i'th'
Citie, there they may prosper.

Thou art a handsome fellow, I confesse it,
Hast good parts too, I know it; Liuing sufficient
To keepe house i'th'Countrey, and inuite
Euery good Tyme thy Neighbors, and at Christmas
Distribute amongst the poore six pence apeece,
And a browne Loafe: Good Countrey vertues these,
And may perhaps serue for a Doctors daughter,
Though shee haue read Orlando Furioso.
But for me, that haue lookt higher into Poetrie,
And for a need can couple of my selfe,
Haue talkt with Montaigne and with Machiuel,
And can make vse of them; note him in this
Place shallow, here profound: and be th'only Starre
Whereto all Wits aduance their Iacobs Staffe,
And the Supreme cry me out Excellent.
What wud three hundred pound a yeere doe here?
'Twill keepe a blew Coat and a side Saddle,
But not maintaine my Coach-Horses in Prouander.

Doril.
Most excellent of Women, that you are worthy
All that your hopes can lodge in you, I graunt:
But Fortune and the Graces were at ods
When you were gotten, else you had bin made
As great as Dignitie can make a Woman.
But yet you know (I pray forgiue my plainenesse)
That in Estate you donnot equall me,
If that were it I lookt at.

Dor.
'Tis true:
I thinke my Portion is some seuen score pound,
And hardly that byrlady: what 'tis I know not,
It lyes aboue in the Garret in old rusty Armour.
But what's that to th'purpose: ther's a Spirit
(Good or bad, I know not) whispers vnto me;
Be an Empresse Wench, a Queene, or Duchesse,
Countesse, or Marquesse at least, for those are trifles.

Now Ile tell thee Dorilus, because thou art a handsome
Fellow, as I told thee before; when I am any one of
these, thou shalt enioy me, in plaine termes, lye with
me, and make a Cuckold: for my Ambition is to aduance
Greatnesse. Looke, here's thy Sister.

Enter Iulia.
Iul.
Come in a time I doubt to make you blush.
Why what mad conference are you two in?

Dor.
For my Ambition is to aduance Greatnesse.

Iul.
As how?

Dor.

Why as a Woman may doe; the manner is not
to be showne now. I am glad thou art come to take off
thy Brother.

Iul.

Take him off, why he is not so fierce, me thinkes.
What, doe you weepe Brother?

Dor.

Like a Watring-Pot; he wud make an excellent
Fountaine in the midst of a Garden.

Iul.

A moist Milke-sop Louer, hang him, on whom
Loue has no more operation then an Oynion: Why,
did not I tell you this was the wrong way, & taught you
the right; Lectur'd vnto you according to my owne
heart, and my heart is made of the same stuffe that other
Womens are: for shame leaue, it is both an ill sight and
an ill signe to see a man drop at the Nose.

Doril.

Why you mistake me, if you thinke I weepe.

Iul.

No; what vse then of your hand-kercher?

Doril.

Somthing has toucht my eye, that do's offend it.

Iul.

Some Feather like a Woman.

Doril.

Not so good Shuttle-cocke, your pointed wit
stabbes desperately at all times. Looke you, 'tis thus: If
you can loue me, faire one, so; if not—

Iul.

So.

Doril.

Yes.

Iul.

So, so: For he did but so, so, For he did but so, so,
and so let her goe.

Dor.

Ha, ha, ha, Thou art a mad Wench, and hast
mercy vpon no man, far worse then I.

Exit Dorilus.

Iul.

Not worse; much about one, as the Collier to
the Deuill: but what shall we doe, shall we not see the
Duke?

Dor.

Yes faith, and thou say'st the word, and laugh
him out of his Dominions: for to laugh him and all his
traine out of countenance, is nothing; I haue a great
mind to ieere the Courtiers.

Iul.

Prythe let's, there requires not much wit about it.

Dor.

Is't done?

Iul.

If my consent will do't, 'tis.

Dor.

Why then 'tis done, and dun's the Mouse, and
vndone all the Courtiers: my Father's gone before to
meet him.

Iul.

Yes, I saw him very spruce.

Dor.

Through out Ground he must come, the houre
iust at milking time.

Iul.

Yfaith 'twere good—ha, ha.

Dor.

Why do'st thou laugh?

Iul.

Why Ile tell thee sirrah.

Dor.

No sirrah, you shannot tell me, I wonnot lose
the glory of the inuention, for I know you haue found it.

Iul.
To goe like Milke-maids.

Dor.
I knew it must out, or thy tongue had burnt else,
To go like Milk maids, And like Milk-maids will we go,
To make sport with the Courtiers, and triumph.

Enter Frederick.
Fre.

Dor.

I wud my Father had bound thee Prentice seuen
yeeres agoe to a Scriuener, by this time thou hadst

lost thy Eares: What make you eues-dropping here?
I thought this had not bin a sober time of day with you.

Fre.

Faith want of money Sister is guilty of the sinne.
Come, supply, supply, or out goes all, Ile spoyle your
milking businesse.

Iul.

By this light if thou do'st, thou shalt starue for
want of Butter.

Fre.
Come, the Purse gingles, I heare it,
For Musicke with his Siluer Knell
Rings vs all in at the blew Bell.

Dor.
I must giue him some.

Iul.
Giue him all to be rid of him.

Dor.

What, you donnot meane to goe see the Duke,
Brother?

Fre.

Not I yfaith Sister, I haue a Ducke of mine
owne, that I must visit—T'other shilling—

Dor.

I haue no more, beleeue it.

Fre.

Pish, I cannot endure this paltring and patching
betweene Sister and Brother—So, now goe
your wayes and milke, but take heed of churning; our
Dayrie maid got the tooth-ach with—

Dor.

Your mouth's stopt, ist not?

Fre.

Vmh.

Dor.

Why so then, pray God the Wenches haue
cleane Wastcoats.

Iul.

You are resolu'd then.

Dor.

Resolu'd! Thou art a Foole Iulia, thou shalt see
I will doe things beyond credulitie.

Exeunt.
Fre.

This money shud ha'bought Tiffenie and Cobweb
Lawne, And what a sinne had that bin, to nurse
Pride, when it may purchase necessarie Claret?

My Father allowes me too little, I find that: And it were

not for this good natur'd Pagan, my Sister, I knew not
what to doe, vnlesse I shud run my head into a commoditie
of Hempe, and that I must take vp at the Gallowes
too, or else they wonnot trust me: yet I might haue a
Bargaine of Crock-Butter, if I could get an Heire to be
bound for't, your Countrey Gentlemen haue no maw
too't; but your Cockney were the only man, for he wud
take it vp, and 'twere but to make Tosts of.

Exit.

Scena tertia.

Enter Lord Raymond, Lodwick, Bernards Father, Smirke the Clowne, with Attendants.
Ray.
Gentlemen all I thanke you, your good wills
To me (as well as to the Duke your loyaltie)
Is showne in this your Readinesse and Loue.
He cannot be farre off: Pray let your men
Keepe off the Countrey People, that doe swarme
As thicke as doe the Citie multitude
At sight of any rare Solemnitie.

Smirke.

Keepe back there, keepe back, or Ile make your
Leather Pelches cry twango else: for some of them I am
sure I made 'hem smoake so, that I fear'd I had set 'hem a
fire. Foh, some of them haue drunk sowre Butter-milke
this morning, mingled with Garlicke, which crudden together,
makes but a ranke smell: and then they haue their
Christmas Shooes on, their old dancing Pumpes, vp to
the middle Calfe, keeps 'hem so warme, that here'le be a
Perfume for the Dukes owne nosthrills.

Enter Ferdinand and Ranoff.
Ferd.

Seignior Ranoff, you are well arriu'd.

Ran.

And you sweet Seignior—'Tis very precious hot,
I protest I haue bin cooler vnder the Line.

Fer.

A Halter you haue.

Ran.

I wud we might command some Drinke here.

Fer.

Nay, and we could intreat it, we were happy: for
the Seruingmen that were wont to be all Mouthes, are
now all Eyes, they haue no other member vsefull about
them.

Ran.

This Lord has a most dulcid situation, pleasant,
and profitable, I haue seldome seene in Venice a sweeter.

Fer.

Did you not see Sir a swarme of Bees as you past
by?

Ran.

I cannot tell indeed, I did not marke 'hem.

Fer.

Me thought they lookt Sir like your people of
Hybla.

Ran.

I cannot tell, I neuer had much conuersation
with your people of Hybla, my noble Lord.

Enter Lord Callowe.
Fer.

Here's another, a Bird of the same, but a more
tame one, something more quiet. Now to heare this Iay
chatter, and this Owlet hold his peace, but answer him
with motion, may serue for a Morrisdance.

Ran.

Your Lordships Iennet in my conceit is a most
vnderstanding Beast.

Call.

Hum.

Ran.

I saw the Adlantatho of Domingo mounted vpon
such another, not much different, nay surely nothing at
all; and I donnot thinke but they were twinnes, onely I
thinke your Lordships the better.

Call.

Hum.

Ran.

Your Lordship keepes the Saddle admirable.

Call.

Hum.

Ran.

I wud your Lordship had bin with me at Iapon,
I speake it for Horses sake, and Horsemanship together;
I protest they are the best Ryders, if I said the
Rankest, I did not lye: for beleeue it, I hold your Ranke

Ryder a good Ryder, take him alwayes, and at all times:
As your Frenchman, in Christendome I donnot know
a ranker Ryder, vnlesse it be some part North, there they
are Scourers. Your Lordship has a most neat Ruffe,
and becomes you most elegantly.

Cal.

Hum.

Enter Cornelius, with Dorigene and Iulia, like Milke-maids.
Fer.

Is not this a fine Dialogue? How now? Who
come these to milke? my Lord and's Compeere?

Cor.

No, beleeue it Sir, they are taken vp for the
Dukes owne tooth.

Fer.

Ide as liue thou hadst told me a Tale: yet beshrew
me they are a couple of handsome Calues with
white Faces; but the degrees of this how com'st about?

Cor.

Why the Duke passing by, cast his eye vpon
them, and with it, I beleeue, his fancie: for vpon some
consideration, he sent backe, to giue commaund, they
should be brought hither to my Lords House.

Fer.

'Tis not amisse, he does well to begin holesome.

Ran.

Will your Lordship conduct?

Cor.

I, this will be good, stand aside, & giue 'hem law.

Ran.

Faire gentle Milke-maid.

Dor.

Sweet courteous Squire.

Ran.

Good; a Wench of Language: by this hand
I loue thee.

Dor.

Loue me Sir, why you haue scarce lookt on me.

Ran.

That's all one, I protest I loue thee.

Dor.

I am sorry for't.

Ran.

How white one? sorry for't? sorry that I, whom
Ladies languish for, repine, and die?

Dor.

Surely Sir, those Ladies are not sound, that die
of such a scuruie disease.

Ran.

You now betray your rudenesse; I am angry.

Dor.

You show your selfe an Asse, and I not care for't.

Ran.

Vdfoot, and my Dagger had not bin rustie, that
I might haue drawne it with credit, I'd a stucke it in the
middle of your Milk-Pale, foolish, scuruy, course-kersie,
durty-tayl'd, dangling dug-Cow: A Gentleman Courtier
and Traueller, whose feet ha's measur'd the Alpes,
and be disgrac'd in a piece of vnplow'd Pasture.

I haue lighted vpon one of the Egyptian Idols, taught
Callowe stroking vp his haire, complements with Faces and Legges.
with some Engine to put off his Hat, and screw his Face
a little: I cannot speake to it like a man, yet I will talke
to it as if it were one. How came you hither Sir, pray
did you ride, or were you drawne in a Cart?

Cal.

Hum.

Ran.

Nay, beleeue it my Lord, they are a brace of the
rudest Baubees that euer drew or suckt the Milke of Innocence.

Iul.

Why, but he is not a Lord, I hope, Sir?

Ran.

Foolish Wench I tell thee he is a Lord, and I am
little lesse my selfe, if I were in place where: what do'st
thou know, but I may be the Duke?

Dor.

Marry God forbid, Sir.

Ran.

Why, it had bin all one to thee, thou hadst cal'd
me Asse.

Dor.

Asse vnawares may prooue a wise man, better
considered of.

Ran.
Ah, she begins to ballance me.

Dor.
I doe indeed Sir.

Ran.
And how doe you find me now?

Dor.
Full weight Sir.

Ran.
O, in good time, wee shall agree anone.—
The Duke—

Enter Duke, with Raymond and the Traine.
Duke.
Through the generall loue our subiects beare to you,
We find my Lord your loyaltie to vs:
Which rellisheth more sweeter to our eares,
In their Applauses told, then by your owne.
And Gentlemen I thanke you euery one;
You haue tooke much paines t'see a growing Prince,
Not season'd yet with Time to your desires:
But crown'd with your loues in the Diademe,
I steadily shall hold the Scepter out,
While Iustice shall stand by me, and direct it.
I hope you will not looke that I shall raigne
In my first yeere, as your last Duke my Father
In his last: but giue my Youth some libertie
To play the wanton Prince, though not the wild one.
I haue I know possest all you that know it,
With that Conceit, when I gaue command,
Vpon the first sight of a payre of Lasses,
That haue Lookes like the place where they were bred,
Chearefull and innocent to be brought to me,
That I may see their pleasing eyes againe;
For me thought on the sudden they were faire ones.

Ray.
I wonnot crosse your Grace, but if my counsell—

Duke.
I prythee keepe it, I haue no need of it,
Donnot confine me, though I be your guest:
I know it may breed laughter, perhaps sorrow
Vnto some graue ones, but I shall deceiue 'hem;
I will see'hem, and haue parley with 'hem:
There's no hurt meant, if you meane not any,
Nor shal this wrong your House; therfore produce thē.

Ray.
They are here my Lord.

Fer.
Vdfoot, what will the young Duke doe trow?
Shall we haue it set downe in our Chronicles,
Inprimis, a brace of Milkemaids? very good.
Where are our Ladies now? they are to seeke,
And must begin againe to learne short Curt'sies,
Short Curts
And dance after the Countrey Horne-pipe.

Duke.
Can there be any losse of Royaltie,
To bid these welcome? If here be any Rudenesse,
Let me be taskt with it, that like such Rudenesse?
If Bloud or Beautie euer made a Lady,
Why are not these so? I professe that man
A Traytor, does not thinke it: yet they are still
Themselues, and so am I. Are you not Sisters?

Short Curts
Dor.
In Qualitie, and't shall please you;
Yet there may be a doubt the tother way,
For our Fathers were next Neighbors.

Fer.

That's a plaguie Wench; she has not milk'd so
many Kine for nothing, she knowes the danger of the
Horne.

Iul.

I beseech your Maiestie let vs depart, those fine
men flowt vs.

Cor.

Well said Innocence, thou art at home, and
play'st within doores, the tother is more open.

Dor.

We meane no harme, and't please you: if my
Lord will spare vs a little of his sowre Beere, weele make
you a daintie Sillibub; that's our Qualitie.

Iul.

Vdfoot, we shalbe whipt anon for this Abuse.

Dor.

I warrant thee Wench, hold vp, Ile take too lashes
for thy one.

Iul.

Indeed you are better able to beare it.

Fer.

What's the Dukes purpose tro? how he does eye
'hem. They'd be good marchandise for some of vs, now
we are farre from our Mistresses.

Cor.
And may be so when he has done with 'hem,
That's my comfort.

Duke.
What was your Father?

Dor.
A Swineheard if it please you.

Duke.
What yours?

Iul.
A Ditcher and't shall like you.

Cor.
Shee's the better descended of the two.
VVhat'le all this come to?

Duke.
If thou hadst bin my Sister,
And thou Daughter vnto some bordering Prince,
As Florence, Padua, Verona, or some farther place,
VVhat Prince wud not haue sought and su'd to you?
But goe and make the Habitation
VVhere you were borne, and dwell, a Paradice,
And let all Courts be wild and desolate.

Dor.
Excellent: my fortune's come about,
And I will venter, though my life lye on't.

Iul.
My life lyes on it too.

Dor.
Hold thy tongue, thou art a sharer,
As I giue thee example, follow. Pardon, pardon,
Great Prince, If we haue through our Ignorance,
Or Folly, giue it what name you please,
VVrong'd this faire Presence, wrong'd you the Light.
That came but as the Egyptians, to adore
The rising Sunne, and to fall downe before it.

Cor.
VVhat whirle's this?

Dor.
VVe are poore Gentlewomen of this Country,
Neighbors vnto this place, that tooke vpon vs
This Habit, to be freer and more bold,
And yet more harmelesse, fearing to be prest
VVith the Court Complement, that playes so thick
In a young Damsels eares, it often beares
And batters downe poore Virgins Chastitie.
We did presume vpon our strength, t'withstand
The Pages, Footmen, and the Scullerie:
But when a Lord should take vs vnto taske,
Or others of your braue embroydred Traine,
Alas we had bin like the silly Fowle
Vnder the towring Hawke, layd flat before 'hem,
Vpon the very shaking of their Feathers.

Fer.

A good Wench yfaith, she flowts them to their
faces.

Cor.

But what is this intended for trow; a Pastorall,
or a Comedie?

Fer.
A Comedie sure, ther's so much Wit in't.
'Tis your daughter—

Lod.
Yes: but pray be silent, let's see the effect,
I dare not owne her yet.

Duke.
I let yee kneele thus long, to heare againe
That most harmonious voice, And ere thou risest,
Aske something of me, fit for thee to craue,
And me to giue, And thou art Mistresse of it.

Dor.
I shall my gracious Lord, I craue your pardon.

Duke.
Pish, that is needlesse, for thou'st not offended;
Or if thou hadst, it were a poore one, that,
For I doe giu't to Theeues and Murtherers:
Aske me a Gift, that Time may talke of it,
Being my first Bountie, which I wud conferre
Brauely and worthily, and thou art borne for't.
Hadst thou Birth equall vnto Wit and Beautie,
Thou wert a Wife for any Prince in Europe,
And I my selfe wud take thee to my Bed:
But rise, and thinke, consider what thou ask'st;
Yet thou art wise enough, I need not teach thee.

Enter a Messenger.
Ray.
How now—Your haste?

Mess.
Where is my Lord the Duke?

Duke.
Your businesse?

Mess.
The good old Earle of—is deceased,
And the Earledome now confer'd vnto your Crowne.

Duke.
'Tis some Addition; but wud he still had liu'd
To haue kept it still, he was so true a friend.—
Hast thou Thought yet?

He speakes to Dorig.
Dor.
Yes my Lord, I thanke this Messenger.
There is an Earledome now falne to your Crowne.

Duke.
There is.

Dor.
Then that it is I craue, for him I owe
All duty, all respect, and life vnto.

Duke.
What's he?

Dor.
One not farre off; my Father.

Duke.
Is he thy Father?

Pointing to Lod.
Lod.
Yes my dread Soueraign; I beseech your pardon,
The Wench I thinke is frantike.

Lod. kneeles.
Duke.
Hadst not thou bin her Father, thou hadst bin so,
To haue vtter'd such a thought. Rise vp Earle of—
Thou hast thy Princes word for't.

Ray.
Haue I broke my braines, As these white haires
Doe witnesse, for the safetie of you,
And of your Father before you, and the State,
To haue a priuate Gentleman, my Neighbor,
Meerely for getting of a handsome Wench,
Rais'd aboue me—it will not be digested,
For I will breake the necke of these new Fortunes
Or they shall mine, and crush me into nothing.

Duke.
Not any one beside my selfe beholds
The Beautie of this Face, where two Sunnes moue,
Kindling new Fires to the God of Loue.
The Title of a Queene much better wud
Become thee, then a Beggar. Why didst not aske
To be what Nature did intend thee for,
And I wud consummate, had not Fortune set thee
So many steps below me in thy Birth?

Dor.
If I might not offend my gracious Prince,
I wud make bold to speake.

Duke.
I did and doe entreat thee.

Dor.
And speake freely?

Duke.
With all libertie.

Dor.
I may I hope, without your Courtiers scorne,
Pronounce my selfe a Lady; and before
This Honor was confer'd vpon me by you,
There did run generous bloud within these veines,
And if not noble: but say there did not,
And I had bin borne the last of the last
Ranke of basest people; yet you haue made me
(Such is the power of Princes) truly noble:
I am the daughter of an Earle, which is a Prince,
And by that Title challenge Alliance
With euery other Prince of higher bloud.
And if the Emperor himselfe were here,
He now wud owne me for his Kinswoman,
For I stand in the Line of Royaltie:
And who denyes it, knowes not Heraldrie.

Ray.
Here's a Wench knowes how to blaze a Coat.

Dor.
Therefore my Lord, my Bloud can be no let,
(If I faile not in other parts) to make
A Duchesse, or a Queene, and may become
(If you be pleas'd to make me so) your Wife,
Ambitious of your Loue, not of the Title.

Duke.
Famine and Warres plague my Dominions,
And strike at my owne Person, but I loue thee,
Infinitely loue thee, loue thee beyond the Word,
Beyond all Action that expresseth it.
To call thee Faire, Sweet, Louing, and my Wife,
Are but poore Attributes: Thou art my Soule,
The better Part, that gouernes my best Thoughts,
And bids me thinke on Heauen, and view thee.
Thy Freenesse and thy Wit, for such as doe
Respect a Dower, are sufficient.
What are Townes, Countries, that may be destroy'd
By Sword or Fire, comparable to thee,
That bear'st about thee in one Limbe the Beautie
Of twentie thousand Cities, and their Wealth?
Thou art all the World to me, for I can liue
And sit downe by thee with content of mind,
Without Ambition how to conquer farther,
And thinke I haue enough; And so shall All,
All of you here, that will be counted Subiects,
And wish the quiet of your Soueraigne:
For him that does not, let him leaue me now,
And I will curse him backe againe a Traytor;
And she her selfe shall curse him, and so damne him.

Fer.
Nay, And't become to that passe, I am silent.

Cor.

'Tis best so, when the Tongue may forfeit the
Head: I haue a con'd Speech alreadie; Long liue the
Duchesse.

Ran.

I am glad my Lord was meale-mouth'd when
she was a Milke-maid, I am sure he gaue her no ill language.

Duke.
What Princes of the East, or of the World,
When they shall see thy Picture, and me by thee,
Circkling thee thus, and thy Armes so with mine,
The Duke em- braceth Dorigene.
To shew consent in our Affections,
But will consider with himselfe, how poore
(Although he haue the Indies in his reach)
He is to me, and sigh himselfe to death?
Father be merry, And my Lord be you so;
For now your House is happy, and shall looke
More glorious then our Pallaces: Although
You left the Walls as naked as your Roofe,
Let euery Roome be deckt with Countenances
Chearefull, as at the houre I was borne,
When as I heard my Father was here with you,
And had the glad newes brought him. Wast not so?

Ray.
Yes, my good Lord.

Duke.
Why so then: Musicke, and some Wine,
That I may drinke a Health to her I loue,
Deepe as my Affections.

A flourish of Cornets.
Cor.
You shall see he will be drunke with Wine
As well as with Loue.

Duke.
First you shall pledge me, then it shall go round,
Vnlesse it stop at any discontent,
VVhom out of all this number I would note.

Ran.

And't be good VVine, it shall ne're sticke at me,
what ere the Health be.

Fer.

No, Seignior; I thought you had had a Small-Beere
stomacke.

Ran.

Neuer but i'th'Morning.

Dor.

My Lord, drinke to Raymond.

Iul.

The Courtiers begin to melt, and my mightie
Madame knowes how to command: I wonder what I
shalbe? The Dice went equally once in my owne opinion
for Duchesse; but Duchesse Mate, that's my comfort.

Duk.
What eye now looks on thee, that not contemnes
The Colours of the Lilly and the Rose,
VVhich come as short of Beautie as of Sweetnesse?
Lend me thy hand my Ioy, for I will yet
But borrow it, till with thy heart I take it
At the Temple, and make it mine for euer;
That Fame may through the world my mind discouer,
Lesse happy being a Duke, then being a Louer.

Exeunt.

Scena quarta.

Enter Bernard disguised like a Doctor, Landoff his Tutor like a Seruingman.
Ber.

Come Asmody, thou seest I am rul'd by thee, I take
thy aduice; and how do'st thou like me in this Doctors
Habit?

Land.

Why very well Sir, and handsome, you looke as
if you had trauell'd for your Degree: but 'tis the better,
for no experience is gotten without trauaile.

Ber.

But what shall I doe, when they bring me their
brittle Pispots? I cannot cast 'hem.

Land.

No: then giue them me, I can.

Ber.

VVhy, art thou skilfull in Physicke?

Land.

Enough to cast away an Vrinall, or two.

Ber.

Cast it away; I marry Asmody, so can I.

Land.

Why and that's sufficient. If it be troubled water,
let 'hem carry it home againe to make Lye with, 'twill
saue Sope: But you must know Sir you must be reseru'd,
and not a publike Professor, like your Tutor.

Ber.

As little as thou wilt, Asmody.

Land.

If it please you Sir, you may take away the first
part of my Name, it does not sound so well in a Seruingman,

because hee is alwayes at the heeles of his
Master.

Ber.

VVhat, thou wudst haue As taken away, and be
call'd Modie?

Land.

For your good Sir I wish it, and for breuity sake:
besides Sir, you hannot one Scholler amongst twentie,
but knowes what Asmody is.

Ber.

Thou say'st well: then henceforward Moody, let
As goe to the Spirit.

Land.

I Sir, for I am now you know your Familiar.

Ber.

And a wittie one, me thinkes.

Land.

I must be so, for I shud haue a sad Master of you
else. And looke you Sir, because you shannot proue me
a Lyar, here is your sweet-hearts Brother (in time of
yore your Chamber-fellow) in a worser pickle then you,
for he is in loue Aurium tenus, you are but vp to the middle.

Enter Frederick and Dorilus.
Fre.

Why, I tell thee my Sister is such a Wild-Cat,
there is not her fellow againe in all Germany, and yet thy
Sister followes well after; they are a Couple, and so is
the Deuill and the Hangman, and as good Companie:
they'le flowt any man vnder the Cope; they wud laugh
at me, but that they know I care not for't, and put 'hem
out with an excellent Tricke that I haue, call'd borrowing
of Money. Come, beare vp man, and drinke, looke
you, here's mine Host come to bid vs welcome.

Enter Host.

How now mine Host, what time of day is't with you,
ha?

Host.

Full Tide Gentlemen, full Tide. But you are
welcome; I am your Seruant, your Slaue, your Cat, or
your Dogge, or any thing in Rerum natura.

Fre.

Hah mine Host, ist come to that Point?
Goe thy wayes, goe sleepe, and send thy Dromedaries
in with VVine, and Glasses cleare as Crystall.

Host.

As cleare as Claridiana, my braue Bullyes.

Fre.

VVhat in Historie, mine Host?

Host.

And in Poetry too, when I am pleas'd to couple
—Some VVine you Knaues, some VVine.

Fre.

Your legges couple ill-fauouredly, mine Host.

Host.

My legges were not brought vp to it.

Enter Bernard.
Ber.

By your leaue mine Host.

Host.

VVelcome of this side too my man of Knowledge,
I am thy Slaue, thy Seruant, Dog, or Cat, or any
thing in Rerum natura.

Ber.
By your leaue Gentlemen.

Fre.
You are welcome Sir.

Ber.
I am a Stranger here, and vnderstand
You are Gentlemen of this Countrey, well descended,
And I doe want such good Acquaintances,
Therefore make bold to presse into your Company.

Fre.
An Italian Sir, I take it.

Ber.
Yes Sir, and a small practiser in Physicke.

Fre.
O Sir, let not your modestie wrong you,
I wud you had a Pill to purge Melancholy,
Here's a Gentleman much offended with't;
Giue him a Glasse of Claret, you are a Stranger,
And he will not refuse you.

Ber.

That I will Sir.—Fellow, some VVine.—
Sir—

Doril.

I cry you mercy.

Ber.

I drinke this to your Health, & I haue brought it.

Doril.

How Sir?

Fre.

Let him drinke off his Wine, and hee'le tell you
more.

Doril.

You spoke something like comfort, Sir.

Ber.

I did, and will perseuer.

Doril.

You are a welcome man, pray shew how.

Fre.

Drinke off your Wine, and heele shew you how.

Doril.

Prythy away.

Ber.

Pray Sir pledge me.

Doril.

I will pledge you.

Fre.

Did you not drinke two, Sir?

Host.

Yes marry did he, if I haue two eyes, he drunke
two.

Fre.

Prythy mine Host stand aside, thou hast ne're an
eye.

Host.

How, ne're an eye? that goes hard, if I haue
drunke out two eyes in three houres.

Doril.

Now Sir will you speake?

Ber.

Yes Sir, and tell you what I know, although a
stranger, and till this houre neuer saw your face.

Land.

O Villaine, they were Bedfellowes together for
a Twelue-month.

Ber.

You are in loue with faire Dorigene. Sister vnto
this Gentleman.

Doril.

You amaze me.

Ber.

'Tis true, Sir.

Doril.

Yes very true I find it: but for the cure of this?

Fre.

Why 'tis ordinary, get her good will, and lye with
her. How thinke Sir, is not that the Cure?

Ber.

A better cannot be applyed, Ile assure you.

Doril.

Wud thou wert gone.

Fre.

How doe you meane, in drinke? giue me some
Wine, I had forgot my selfe. Mine Host, I wud drinke

to thee, but thou art not able to pledge me: Therefore
here's to thee honest Blew-coat.

Land.

I thanke you Sir.

Enter Smirke with Baggs.
Smirke.

By your leaue Gentlemen.

Fred.

What Smirke? welcome, what wind droue thee
hither?

Smirke.

The best in the foure Quarters: Looke you,
here's Cash, Gold and Siluer, you must pay your Debts,
purchase new Clothes, and come to Court instantly.
Your Father is made an Earle, your Sister a Duchesse,
and you are a Count, or I know not what; and I am an
Esquire: my Boy is a Gentleman, when I haue him, as I
am laying about for one.

Fre.

The fellow ha's broken open some Goldsmiths
house, and will be hang'd: Do'st thou know what thou
do'st?

Smi.

My Lord, as I am a Gentleman and an Esquire, I
doe reuerence the very inuention of your Honours next
Sute: Ile helpe you to a Draper shall giue you all your
Men Liueries, to make it of Cloth; my Haberdasher ha's
a new Blocke, and will find me and all my Generations in
Beuers as long as we last, for the first hansell.

Fre.

The fellow is mad.

Smi.

Mad, or mad not, 'tis all one, I speake truth; your
Father's an Earle, your Sister's a Duchesse, you are a
Count, or I know not what, I am an Esquire, and my Boy
is a Gentleman, when I haue him.

Doril.

What does this fellow talke?

Smir.

This fellow talkes as he thinkes, and thinkes as
he talkes, and talkes what he knowes. I wonnot repeat
it ouer againe, for the disparagement of my Wit: but

what I say, I will maintaine, what I maintaine, I will
say; and the very Bells themselues shall ring it out
Probatum.

Drawer.

'Tis true indeed my Lord, your Sister's made
Duchesse of—and shalbe married vnto the Duke.
The Newes doth come to Towne with euery Man,
and no man disagrees, but constantly affirmes it for a
Truth.

Doril.
O that it were so; by my Fathers Soule
I wud be free as that is, and as happie,
For I wud laugh this Woman from my heart,
And she shud be no more to me, then her I know not,
I wud be so much Man, and something more:
For I wud wish to enioy her as a Man,
Lose her in mind, and find her in my bloud,
And I doe feele such turnings in my thoughts.

Fre.

Why now you are your selfe: Yet I'de aduise
you to goe to Court, and see her.

Doril.
See her, I and speak to her, and call her Woman,
There were no Treason in't, were it?

Fre.
Not any.

Doril.

Good; then let vs goe: for what Ile doe till
I come there, I know not, or if I did, I wud not vtter
it.

Ber.

Why Asmody, will you be found an ignorant
Spirit? how hap I knew not this?

Land.
You imploy'd not me to enquire of it.

Fre.
Gentlemen, as I vnderstand my selfe, I am a Lord,
I donnot know, I may be an abus'd Coxcombe;
But howsoeuer, here are good Tokens of it.

Mine Host, what haue I chalkt in sundry and seuerall
times?

Host.

Chalke is but Chalke, a Rundle makes a shilling,
but that's nothing.

Fre.
Ile come to you mine Host when you are sober.
Gentlemen, you are for the Court,
I am for the Taylors: When next we meet,
We will bring hearts as sound as our Clothes, sweet.