 | The Jealous Lovers |  |
SCEN. II.
Asotus, Ballio, Tyndarus.Tyn.
Physicians say, there's no disease so dangerous
As when the Patient knows not he is sick.
Such, such is mine. I could not be so ill,
Did I but know I were not well. The fear
Of dangers but suspected, is more horrid
17
During the storm, shake at the thoughts of death:
Who when his eyes beheld a certain ruine,
Died hugging of the wave. Were Evadne true
I were too blest; or could I say she's false,
I could no more be wretched.—I am well:
My pulse beats musick, and my lively bloud
Dances a healthfull measure.—Ha! What's this
Gnaws at my heart? what viperous shirt of Nessus
Cleaves to my skin, and eats away my flesh?
'Tis some infection.—
Asot.
Tutour, let's be gone.
O' my life we are dead men else.
Tyn.
My Asotus?
Asot.
Keep your infection to your self.
Tyn.
'Tis love
Is my infection.
Asot.
Nay, then I care not, Tyndarus:
For that is an epidemicall disease,
And is the finest sicknesse in the world
When it takes two together.
Tyn.
Deare, deare self!
How fares the darling of the age? Say, what successe?
Asot.
Did not I tell you, Sir, that I was born
With a caul upon my face? My mother wrapt me
In her own smock. The females fall before me
Like trembling doves before the towring hawk,
While o're the spoils in triumph thus I walk.
Ball.
So he takes virgins with his amorous eye,
As spiders web intraps the tender flie.
Asot.
True, Tutour, true: for I wooe 'um with cobweb-lawn.
Tyn.
I know the rest of women may be frail,
Brittle as glasses: but my Evadne stands
A rock of Parian marble, firm and pure.
The crystall may be tainted, and rude feet
Profane the milkie way: The Phœnix self,
Although but one,—no virgin: E're I harbour
Dishonourable thoughts of that bright maid!
No Tyndarus, reflect upon thy self,
Turn thine eyes inward, see thine own unworthinesse
That does thy thoughts to this suspicion move:
She loves thee not, 'cause thou deserv'st no love.
18
I do not know where the inchantment lies,
Whether it be the magick of mine eyes,
Or lip, or cheek, or brow:—but I suppose
The conjuration chiefly in my nose.
Evadne, Sir, is mine, and woo'd me first.
Troth 'tis a pretie lasse; and for a woman
She courts in handsome words, and now and then
A polite phrase, and such a feeling appetite,
That having not a heart of flint or steel,
As mine's an easier temper,—I consented
To give her, in the way of almes, a night
Or so:—You guesse the meaning.
Tyn.
Too too well.
And must her lust break into open flames,
To lend the world a light to view her shames?
Could not she taste her Page? or secretly
Admit a tuft-back'd Groom into her arms?
Or practise with her Doctour, and take Physick
In a close room? But thus, good heavens, to take
Her stallions up i'th' streets! While sin is modest
It may be healed; but if it once grow impudent,
The fester spreads above all hopes of cure.
I never could observe so strange a boldnesse
In my Evadne. I have seen her cheeks
Blush, as if modesty her self had there
Layn in a bed of corall.—But how soon
Is vertue lost in women!
Ball.
Mistake us not,
Deare Tyndarus, Evadne may be chaste
To all the world—but him. And as for him,
Diana's self, or any stricter goddesse
Would loose the Virgin-zone. I have instill'd
Magnetique force into him, that attracts
Their iron hearts, and fashions them like steel
Upon the anvile, to what shape he please.
He knows the minute, the precise one minute,
No woman can hold out in. Come to me, Sir,
I'le teach you in one fortnight by Astrologie
To make each Burgesse in all Thebes—your cuckold.
19
As sillie lambes do fill the wolves black jaw,
And fearfull harts the generous lions paw,
As whales eat lesser fries; so may you see
The matrons, maids, and widows stoop to mee.
Tyn.
O do not hold me longer in suspence:
The prisoner at the barre may with lesse fear
Heare the sad sentence of his death pronounc'd,
Then stand the doubfull triall. Pray confirm me.
Asot.
Know you this Jewel?
Tyn.
O my sad heart-strings crack!
Asot.
If your Evadne be a Phœnix, Tyndarus,
Some ten moneths hence you may have more o'th' breed.
Tyn.
This did I give her, and she vow'd to keep it
By all the oaths religion knew. No Deity
In all the court of heaven but highly suffers
In this one perjurie. The diamond
Keeps his chaste lustre still, when she has foiled
A glorie of more worth then all those toyes
Proud folly gave such price to.
Asot.
This? a prety toy;
But of no value to my other trophies
That the frail tribe has sent me. Your best jewels
Are to be found, Sir, in the weaker vessels,
And that's a mysterie. I have sweat out such
Variety of trifles, their severall kindes
Would pose a learned lapidary: my closet,
By some that knew me not for Cupids favourite,
Has been mistaken for a Jewellers shop.
Ball.
And then for ribbands, points, for knots and shoe-strings,
Or to slip higher, garters, no Exchange
Affords such choice of wares.
Asot.
Phœbus whip
Thy lazy team, run headlong to the West,
I long to taste the banquet of the night.
Sir, if you please, when I am surfetted
To take a prety breakfast of my leavings,—
Tyn.
Where art thou patience? Hence contagious mists
That would infect the aire of her pure fame:
My sword shall purge you forth, base drosse of men,
From her refined metall.
Asot.
Blesse me, Tutour,
20
Tyn.
Why should I
Afflict my self for her? No, let her vanish.
Shall I retain my love, when she has lost
The treasure of her vertue? Stay, perchance
Her innocence may be wronged. Said I, perchance?
That doubt will call a curse upon my head
To plague my unbelief.—But here's a witnesse
Of too too certain truth stands up against her.
Me thinks the flame that burnt so bright dies in me.
I am no more a captive, I have shak'd
My fetters off, and broke those gyves of steel
That bound me to my thraldome.—My fair prison
Adiew.—How sweetly breaths this open aire?
My feet grown wanton with their libertie,
Could dance and caper till I knockt at heaven
With my advanced head. Come deare Asotus,
There are no pleasures but they shall be ours.
We will dispeople all the elements
To please our palates. Midnight shall behold
Our nightly cups, and weare a blacker mask,
As envious of our jollities. The whole sex
Of women shall be ours. Merchants shall proffer
Their tender brides. Mothers shall run and fetch
Their daughters (e're they yet be ripe) to satisfie
Our liquorish lusts. Then Tityrus happy call,
That loosing one fair maid has purchas'd all.
Asot.
You have an admirable methode, Tutour,
If this fellow has not been i' my heart, I'le be hang'd,
He speaks my minde so pat. Ha, boon couragio—
Ball.
You see what more then miracles art can do.
Tyn.
And when we have runne o're the catalogue
Of former pleasures, thou, and I, and Ballio
Will sit and study new ones. I will raise
A sect of new and rare Philosophers,
Shall from my name be call'd Tyndarides.
Asot.
And I will raise another sect like these,
That shall from me be call'd—Asotides.
21
Must quaffe a bowl of rare philosophie,
To pledge the health of his Tyndarides.
Tyn.
Come, blest restorer of my libertie.
Asot.
If any friend of yours want libertie
In such a kinde as this, you may command me.
For if the brave Tyndarides be not free,
Th' Asotides shall grant them libertie.
Tyn.
We will be frolick, boy; and e're we part,
Remember thee, Thou mighty man of art.
Exeunt Tyndar, & Asot.
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