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Scena prima
Comastes & OlimpaOlimpa
Faire Sr the visite will prove dangerouse
The watchfull Dragon kept not Æsons fleece
Nor Junoes Argus the Inachian Cow
More carefull, then my Lord (her jealous sire)
Shutts vp the faire Facetia.
Comast:
My Nigella!
Hyperions rayes scatter not thinst clouds
More easye, than A lovers eye dispells
All dangerouse oppositions. lett my Cynthia
Meete her lovde Phoebus in A full conjunction
And wee graspe or [keepes] wishes (wc h ffate grante)
The easterne shoare shall yeeld the richest gems
To Decke thy well shapte limb[e]s, wt h whose bright lustre
Thy face (in blacke though clouded) shall outshine
The sacred Queene of night wt h all her starrs
Olimpa:
Comastes! Lovers promise as they sware
Beguileinge credulous virgins: But my duty
To my best mr s prompts my diligence
To joyne you: Though I feare her fathers checke
5
Exit Olimp:
Comast:
Be speedy Girle.—Why should Lord Lepidus
Barr me his house? is not or blood our birth
As high and greate as his? I the sole sonne
And childe too. (since I loste my pretty sister)
Heire of as Great A family in Naples,
6
So night wt h her blacke mantell vshers in
The glorious day
enter Facetia wt h Olympa
Facet:
Was he not spied Nigella?
Olimpa:
Noe Madam yr fathers groomes are safe in the Buttery
And there A Mercuryes Pipe will
Charme their eyes att his retourne:
Facetia
Ther is noe greate feare of them
But you know tis nere the time of my Fathers
Morneinge visitt[s] if he discover vs
We shall both smarte for it.
Olimp:
Madam Ile watch his comeinge from his chamber
And give you notice of it
Facetia:
Bee carefull my Nigella.—
She goes towardes Comastes
Comastes! welcome.
Comast:
Lady our new sowne love like to our youth
Is now i'th'Springe and blossome: or pure Soules
Not longe have lodged in each others bosomes
Our love's but newly budded: What dire blast
Vnwholesome influence or infectinge winde
Nipps the expected grouth?
Faceti:
My truest servante
Malignante Saturne rules my fathers minde
His aged limbs feel not or youthfull fires
7
Danger of issue, Thraledome to an Husband:
And to diverte my Thoughts from fancyinge man
He brings me home such suitors, as my night-Crow
Would loath to bed wt h: A lame vserer
Another lowde of tongue but deafe in ears
Another dumbe, yt gapes and shews his teeth
As if he tooke me for A Toothdrawer
Onely Comastes is forbid the house
Wc h makes it seeme to me A loathsome Prison.
8
Counte him not absente whose best parte his soule
Is prsente wt h you: coulde I give it tongue
I woulde [fill yr eares] tell you pretty storyes, Fill yr eares
Wt h ye sad Fate of one, the truest Lover
That numbers out his discontented minutes
In darcke retires that knowes nor sune nor day
Save onely where the faire Facetia shines.
Facetia:
And I coulde match that storye wt h another
A lovesicke maide whome A fathers frowne
[Feeds onely on]
Keeps from her hopes, whilst shee pore injurd Girle
Feeds only on ye memorye and thought
Of her deare love, yet acts another parte
Enter Olimp:
Olimp:
Madam my Lord is at hand
Faceti:
Comastes now my tongue yet not my hearte
Must chide you seeme[[illeg.]] you desperate
Enter Lepidus speakeinge to himselfe.
Lepidus:
Why Lepidus thou hast but one daughter and she
Not blest this morneinge yet, How now;
How now? A jolly springall wt h ye wench
List, list,
she discovers her father
Facet:
Tis he, the Sceane must change—
Noe, fonde Comastes, yr youth, revenews, Courteship[s],
All yr hopes are nothinge, ballanced wt h obedience
Perhaps were my deare father wrought
9
Reverende care Forbids you all excess, Know that my duty
to my good Father teacheth me to hate all suiters
By his wisdome not approved.
Lepidus:
Blessinge on my Girle—
he speaks it Aside
Faceti:
Take then yr doome in shorte forbeare ye house
Spare yr vaine letters, seeke another Love.
Comast:
Am I my selfe or is she not her selfe—
Aside
10
Art[e] thou now falen from.—
this to hīselfe
Lady call to minde what nuptiall joyes
Husbande and issue bringe
Facet:
My honoured sire to me is husbande, issue, all,
And he forbiddinge it, his daughter vowes
Never to love Comastes, so farewell.
Comast:
Comastes vowes ne're to outlive yr love,
Come sworde best cure of sorrowes: Here he dyes
Facetia's martyre and Loves sacrifice
offers to Kill himselfe
Olimpa:
Weele ha've no bloodshed here, doot'e at home
she holds him
Lepidus:
yea, do rash younglinge ther thy good old father
Will never see it.—
now to Facetia
Myne owne deare daughter ifaith
Heavens bless thee; Remove him from thy clossett
Wench, & from thy brest too, Psew hee'l not kill
Himselfe Ile warrante thee: wee men learne: to.
dissemble from thy sex: we sucke it from our
mothers brest: As for you sr [Fayer] daughter hath told—
you what you may truste too, Gett you out of my dores
And see you retourne not: Facetia's not for yr tooth.
Comast:
your honoured pardon sr. I do obey.
Exit
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