 | The right excellent and famous Historye, of Promos and Cassandra ... the fyrste parte |  |
Actus. 2.
Scena. 1.
Cassandra, a Mayde.Cass.
Aye mee, vnhappy wenche, that I must liue the day,
To see Andrugio tymeles dye, my brother and my stay.
The onely meane, God wot, that should our house aduaunce,
Who in the hope of his good hap, must dy through wanton chance:
O blynde affectes in loue, whose tormentes none can tell,
Yet wantons wyll hyde fyre, and frost, yea hassard death, nay hell:
To taste thy sowre sweete frutes, digested styll with care,
Fowle fall thee loue, thy lightning ioyes, hath blasted my welfare
Thou fyerst affection fyrst, within my brothers brest.
Thou mad'st him craue and haue, a proofe of Venus meede,
For which foule act he is adiudgd, eare long to lose his heade.
The lawe is so seuere, in scourging fleshly sinne,
As marriage to worke after mends doth seldome fauor win.
A law first made of zeale, but wrested much amis.
Faults should be measured by desart, but all is one in this,
The lecher fyerd with lust, is punished no more,
Then he which fel through force of loue, whose mariage salues his sore:
So that poore I dispayre, of my Andrugios lyfe,
O would my dayes myght end with his, for to appease my stryfe.
Scena. 2.
Andrugio in prison, Cassandra.An.
My good Syster Cassandra?
Cass.
Who calleth Cassandra?
An.
Thy wofull brother Andrugio.
Cas.
Andrugio, O dismall day, what greefes, doe mee assayle?
Condempned wretch to see thee here, fast fettered now in Iayle,
How haps thy wits were witched so, yt knowing death was meede
Thou wouldest commit (to slay vs both) this vile laciuious deede.
An.
O good Cassandra, leaue to check, and chide me thraule therfore
If late repentaunce, wrought me helpe I would doe so no more.
But out alas, I wretch, too late, doe sorrowe my amys,
Unles Lord Promos graunt me grace: in vayne is hadywist,
Wherfore sweete sister, whylst in hope, my dāpned lyfe yet were,
Assaulte his hart, in my behalfe, with battering tyre of teares.
If thou by sute doest saue my lyfe, it both our ioyes will be,
If not it may suffice thou soughst, to set thy brother free:
Wherefore speede to proroge my dayes, to morrowe else I dye.
Cas.
I wyll not fayle to pleade and praye, to purchase the mercye,
Farewell awhyle, God graunte mee well to speede.
An.
Syster adew, tyl thy returne, I lyue, twene, hope, and dreede.
Oh happy tyme, soe where Lord Promos coms?
Now tongue addresse thy selfe, my minde to wray.
And yet least haste worke waste, I hold it best,
In couert, for some aduauntage, to stay.
Scena. 3.
Promos with the Shriefe and their Officers.Pro.
Tis strange to thinke, what swarms of vnthrifts liue,
Within this towne, by rapine spoyle and theft:
That were it not, that Iustice ofte them greeue,
The iust mans goods, by Ruflers should be reft.
At this our Syse, are thirty iudgde to dye,
Whose falles I see, their fellowes smally feare:
So that the way, is by seuerity,
Such wicked weedes, euen by the rootes to teare:
Wherefore Shriefe, execute with speedy pace,
The dampned wightes, to cutte of hope of Grace.
Shriefe.
It shalbe done.
Cassandra to hir selfe,
Cas.
O cruell words they make my hart to bleede,
Now, now, I must, this dome seeke to reuoke,
Least grace come short, when starued is the steede:
She kneeling speakes to Promos.
Now, now, I must, this dome seeke to reuoke,
Least grace come short, when starued is the steede:
Most mighty Lord, & worthy Iudge, thy iudgemēt sharpe abate,
Uaile thou thine eares, to heare the plaint, that wretched I relate,
Behold the wofull Syster here, of poore Andrugio,
Whom though that lawe awardeth death, yet mercy do him show:
Way his yong yeares, the force of loue, which forced his amis,
Way, way, that Mariage, works amends, for what committed is,
He hath defilde no nuptial bed, nor forced rape hath mou'd,
He fel through loue, who neuer ment, but wiue ye wight he lou'd.
And wātons sure, to keepe in awe, these statutes first were made,
Or none but lustfull leachers, should, with rygrous law be payd.
And yet to adde intent thereto, is farre from my pretence,
I sue with teares, to wyn him grace, that sorrows his offence.
Wherefore herein, renowned Lorde, Iustice with pitie payse:
Which two in equal ballance waide, to heauē your fame will raise.
Uaile thou thine eares, to heare the plaint, that wretched I relate,
Behold the wofull Syster here, of poore Andrugio,
Whom though that lawe awardeth death, yet mercy do him show:
Way his yong yeares, the force of loue, which forced his amis,
Way, way, that Mariage, works amends, for what committed is,
He hath defilde no nuptial bed, nor forced rape hath mou'd,
He fel through loue, who neuer ment, but wiue ye wight he lou'd.
And wātons sure, to keepe in awe, these statutes first were made,
Or none but lustfull leachers, should, with rygrous law be payd.
And yet to adde intent thereto, is farre from my pretence,
I sue with teares, to wyn him grace, that sorrows his offence.
Which two in equal ballance waide, to heauē your fame will raise.
Pro.
Cassandra, leaue of thy bootlesse sute, by law he hath bene tride,
Lawe founde his faulte, Lawe iudgde him death:
Cas.
Yet this maye be replide,
That law a mischiefe oft permits, to keepe due forme of lawe,
That lawe small faultes, with greatest doomes, to keepe men styl in awe:
Yet Kings, or such as execute, regall authoritie:
If mends be made, may ouer rule, the force of lawe with mercie.
Here is no wylful murder wrought, which axeth blood againe,
Andrugios faulte may valued be, Mariage wipes out his stayne.
Pro.
Faire Dame, I see ye naturall zeale, thou bearest to Andrugio,
And for thy sake (not his desart) this fauour wyll I showe:
I wyll repriue him yet a whyle, and on the matter pawse,
To morrowe you shall lycence haue, a fresh to pleade his cause:
Shriefe execute my chardge, but staye Andrugio,
Untill that you in this behalfe, more of my pleasure knowe.
Shri.
I wyll performe your wyll:
Cas.
O most worthy Magistrate, my selfe thy thrall I finde,
Euen for this lytle lightning hope, which at thy handes I finde.
Euen for this lytle lightning hope, which at thy handes I finde.
Now wyl I go and comfort him, which hangs twixt death & life.
Exit.
Pro.
Happie is the man, that inioyes the loue of such a wife,
I do protest, hir modest wordes, hath wrought in me a maze.
Though she be faire, she is not deackt, with garish shewes for gaze,
Hir bewtie lures, hir lookes cut off, fond sutes with chast disdain.
O God I feele a sodaine change, that doth my freedome chayne.
What didst thou say? fie Promos fie: of hir auoide the thought,
And so I will, my other cares wyll cure what loue hath wrought,
Come awaye.
Exeunt.
Scena. 4.
Phallax, Promos offycer, Gripax, and Rapax Promoters.Phal.
My trusty friendes about your businesse straight,
With symple showes, your subtile meanings bayte:
Then turne me lose, the offenders to fleece.
Gri.
Tush, to finde lawe breakers let me alone,
I haue eyes, will looke into a Mylstone.
Phal.
God a mercy Gripax.
Ra.
And I am so subtyll sighted I trowe,
As I the very thoughts of men doo know:
Gri.
I fayth Rapax, what thought thy wife when she,
To lye with the preest, by night stole from thee?
Ra.
Marry she knew, you and I were at square,
And least we fell to blowes, she did prepare
To arme my head, to match thy horned browe.
Gri.
Goe and a knaue with thee,
Ra.
I stay for you:
Phal.
No harme is done, here is but blow for blow,
Byrds of a fether, best flye together,
Then like partners, about your market goe,
Marrowes adew, God sent you fayre wether.
Gri.
Fare you well, for vs take no care,
With vs this brode speeche sildome breedeth square.
Exeunt.
Phallax alone.
Phal.
Marry syr, welfare an office, what some euer it be,
The very countenaunce, is great, though slender be the fee,
I thanke my good Lord Promos now, I am an officer made,
Offices.
In sooth more by hap then desart, in secret be it sayde:
No force for that, each shyft for one, for Phallax will doo so,
Well fare a head can take his tyme, nay watch for time I trow.
I smyle to thinke of my fellowes, how some braue it, some waight,
A note for wayghters.
And thinke reward, there seruice iust, with offred shifts wyl bayght
When they (poore soules) in froth do falle a myle vpon account,
For flattery and feruent plesing, are meanes to make men mount:
I speake on proofe, Lord Promos, I haue pleased many a day,
Yet am I neither learned, true, nor honest any way.
What skyls for that, by wit or wyle, I haue an office got,
By force wherof euery lycence, warrant, pattent, pasport,
Leace, fyne, fee, et cetera, pas and repas, through Phallax bands,
Disordred persons brybe me wel, to escape from Iustice hands,
Such hungry lads, as soone will smell, where statute breakers lurk,
And if they come, within our Grype, we meane to stripe them so,
As (if they scape from open shame) their bagges with vs shall goe.
And trust me this, we officers, of this mylde mould are wrought,
Agree with vs, and sure your shame by vs shal not be sought:
But soft a whyle, I see my Lord what makes him lowre so?
I wyll intrude into his sight, perhaps his greefe to know.
Scena. 4.
Phallax. Promos.Pro.
Well mette Phallax, I long haue wysht to showe,
A cause to thee which none but I yet know.
Phal.
Say on my Lord, a happy man weare I:
If any way, your wish I could supply:
Pro.
Faine would I speake, but oh, a chylling feare,
(The case is such) makes mee from speech forbeare.
Phal.
These wordes my Lord (whome euer haue bene iust)
Now makes, me thinke, that you my truth mistrust.
But cease suspect, my wyll with yours shall gree,
What so (or against whome) your dealing be:
Pro.
Against a wight of small account it is,
And yet I feare, I shall my purpose mys:
Phal.
Feare not my Lorde, the olde Prouerbe doth saye,
Faynt harts doth steale fayre Ladyes feld away.
Pro.
Fayre Ladyes O, no Lady is my loue,
And yet she sure, as coye as they wyl proue.
Phal.
I thought as much, loue dyd torment you so.
But what is she that dare saye Promos noe?
Pro.
Doe what one can, fyre wyll breake forth I see,
My words vnwares, hath showen what greeueth mee:
My wound is such, as loue must be my leache,
Which cure wyll bryng, my Grauity in speeche,
Then for to see, a man gray heard to dote.
Phal.
No my Lorde, Amor omnia vincit,
And Ouid sayth, Forma numen habet.
And for to proue, loues seruice seemes the wise,
Set Sallamon and Sampson, before your eyes:
For wyt, and strength, who wonne the cheefest prise.
And both lyu'd by the lawes loue did deuise,
Which proues in loue, a certaine godhed lyes.
And Goddes rule yearely, by wisdome from the skyes:
Whose wyls (thinke I) are wrought best by the wise.
In deede diuine, I thinke loues working is,
From reasons vse, in that my sences swarue,
In pleasure paine, in payne I fynde a blysse,
On woe I feede, in sight of foode I stearue:
These strange effects, by loue are lodgd in mee,
My thoughts are bound, yet I my selfe am free.
Phal.
Well my Good Lord, I axe (with pardon sought)
Who she may be, that hath your thrauldome wrought?
Pro.
The example is such, as I sygh to showe,
Syster she is, to dampned Andrugio.
Phal.
All the better for you the game doth goe.
The prouerbe sayth, that kyt wyll vnto kinde,
If it be true this comfort, then I fynde:
Cassandras flesh is as her brothers, frayle,
Then wyll shee stoupe, (in cheefe) when Lords assayle.
Pro.
The contrary (through feare) doth worke my payne,
For in her face, such modesty doth raigne,
As cuttes of louing sutes, with chaste disdayne.
Phal.
What loue wyll not, necessity shall gayne,
Her brothers lyfe, will make her glad and fayne.
Pro.
What is it best, Andrugio free to set,
Ere I am sure, his systers loue to gette?
Phal.
My louyng Lord, your seruaunt meanes not so,
But if you will, else where in secret goe:
To worke your wyll, a shift I hope to showe.
With ryght good wyll, for such my sicknes is,
As I shall dye, if her good will I mys.
Exeunt.
Scena. 5.
The Hangman, with a greate many ropes abought his necke.The wynd is yl, blowes no mans gaine, for cold I neede not care,
Here is nyne and twenty sutes of apparrell for my share:
And some berlady very good, for so standeth the case,
As neyther gentelman, nor other Lord, Promos sheweth Grace.
But I maruell much poore slaues, that they are hanged so soone,
They were wont, to staye a day or two, now scarce an after noone:
All the better for the hangman, I pardons dreaded sore,
Would cutters saue, whose clothes are good, I neuer feard the poore:
Let mee see, I must be dapper in this my facultie,
Heare are new ropes, how are my knots, I faith syr slippery.
At fast or loose, with my Giptian, I meane to haue a cast:
Tenne to one I read his fortune by the Marymas fast,
Serg.
A way, what a stur is this, to see men goe to hanging?
Han.
Hark, god bwy ye, I must begone, the prisners are a cōming.
Exit.
Scena. 6.
Sixe prisoners bounde with cordes, Two Hacksters, one VVoman, one lyke a Giptian, the rest poore Roges, a Preacher, with other Offycers.They sing.
With harte and voyce to thee O Lorde,
At latter gaspe, for grace we crie:
Vnto our sutes, good God accorde,
VVhich thus appeale, to thy mercie.
Which vnto thee, our sinnes confesse:
Forsake vs not, in this distresse,
VVhich vnto thee, our sinnes confesse.
Hac.
Al sorts of men beware by vs, whom presēt death assaults,
Looke in your conscience what you find, & sorow for your faults:
Example take by our fresh harmes, see here the fruites of pride,
I for my part deserued death, long ere my theft was spide.
O careles youth, lead, lead awrie, with euerie pleasing toy,
Note well my words, they are of woorth, ye cause though my annoy.
Shun to be pranckt, in peacocks plumes, for gaze which only are,
Hate, hate, the dyce, euen as the diuell, of wanton Dames beware:
These, these, wer they, yt suckt my welth, what folowed thē in need?
I was intist by lawles men, on theeuish spoyles to feede.
And nusled once in wicked deedes, I feard not to offende,
From bad, to worse, and worst I fell, I would at leysure mende.
But oh presuming ouer much, styll to escape in hope,
My faultes were found, and I adiudgde, to totter in a rope:
To which I go with these my mates, likewise for breach of lawes,
For murder some, for theeuerie some, and some for litle cause.
Second. Hackster.
Beware deere frends of quarelling, thirst spoile of no mās breath
Blood, axeth blood, I sheeding blood, vntimelie catch: my death.
Looke in your conscience what you find, & sorow for your faults:
Example take by our fresh harmes, see here the fruites of pride,
I for my part deserued death, long ere my theft was spide.
O careles youth, lead, lead awrie, with euerie pleasing toy,
Note well my words, they are of woorth, ye cause though my annoy.
Shun to be pranckt, in peacocks plumes, for gaze which only are,
Hate, hate, the dyce, euen as the diuell, of wanton Dames beware:
These, these, wer they, yt suckt my welth, what folowed thē in need?
I was intist by lawles men, on theeuish spoyles to feede.
And nusled once in wicked deedes, I feard not to offende,
From bad, to worse, and worst I fell, I would at leysure mende.
But oh presuming ouer much, styll to escape in hope,
My faultes were found, and I adiudgde, to totter in a rope:
To which I go with these my mates, likewise for breach of lawes,
For murder some, for theeuerie some, and some for litle cause.
Second. Hackster.
Beware deere frends of quarelling, thirst spoile of no mās breath
Blood, axeth blood, I sheeding blood, vntimelie catch: my death.
A woman.VVo.
Maides & women, shun pride, & sloth, the rootes of euery vice,
My death ere lōg, wil shew their ends, God graūt it make you wise.
A scoffing catchpole.Ca.
How now Giptian? All a mort knaue, for want of company?
Be trustie man, ye Hangman straight, wil reade Fortunes with thee.
The Preacher.Prea.
With this thy scoffing speach, good friend offend him not,
His faults are scorged, thine scape (perhaps) that do deserue his lot?
A poore Roge.Rog.
Iesus saue me, I am cast, for a purse with three halfepence.
A churlish officer.Of.
Dispatch prating knaue, and be hangd, yt we were iogging hēce.
They leysurablie depart synging. The Preacher whispering some one or other of the Prisoners styll in the eare.
Our secrete thoughts, thou Christ dost knowe,
They sing.
VVhome the worlde, doth hate in thrall.
Yet hope we that, thou wilt not soe,
On whome alone, we thus do call.
Forsake vs not, in this distresse,
VVhich vnto thee, our sinnes confesse,
Forsake vs not, &c.
| The right excellent and famous Historye, of Promos and Cassandra ... the fyrste parte | |