University of Virginia Library

Actus quarta.

Scena prima.

Enter Medusa and Pamphila.
O Happie is I trust that Doctors soule by whom I learnde,
This famous Arte, and easely by it my liuing earnde.
O that he knew how deere his life and learning was to me,
O yt he could but for his death my griefe and sorrowe see.

pamphila.
Medusa, if I did not feare my honour and my name,
Would soone be lost hereby, and turne my credite into shame.
I would become thy Scholler, but I blush to speake of it,

Medusa.
No Pamphila, for such a mistresse thou art farre vnfit.
What talkst thou of thy name, and honour likely to be lost,
By learning of myne Arte? which should be honord of the moste.
And more esteemde then Phisike.

Pamphila
Why?

Medusa.
That's easy to be proued,
For, as by Phisikes learned skill, diseases be remoued.
So by my cunning, euery smarte that doth afflict the minde,
Is put to chace, for euery griefe, a remedy I finde.

Pamphila.
And haue you any salue for loue?

Medusa.
I haue.

Pamphila.
Whereof is it made?

Medusa.
Of diuers things, simple, and mixte, according to my trade.

Pamphila.
Then if for loue, or mony, you will graunt me my requeste,
Let me once by your cunning see, my mistresse haue some reste.

Medusa.
Whome serue you then?

Pamphila.
Forsooth, I serue mistresse Virginia.

Medusa.
Yet farther, let me craue your name.

Pamphila.
My name is pamphila.

Medusa.
What's her disease?

Pamphila.
Nothing but loue.

Medusa.
How fareth she with it?

Pamphila.
Sad, sicke, and sore, with sorrow pinde, and disposseste of wit.

Medusa.
Whome loueth she?

Pamphila.
Fedele.

Medusa.
And how long hath she bin so?

Pamphila.
I know not, yet I gesse, that she sickned a yeere agoe.

Medusa.
What if I helpe her? tell me who shall please me for my paine?

Pamphila.
My selfe, because vnknowen to her, I seeke her health to gaine.

Medusa.
A louing seruant, goe thy wayes and leaue it all to me.
But harke thee.

Pamphila.
What?

Medusa.
Let me haue passage to her lodging free.
That when she little thinkes thereof, my Medcins I may make,
By vertue of the which, her wounded heart may comfort take.
The lesse she lookes for remedy,
the more is her delight, when t'is obtaynde.

Pamphila.
Then let's be gon.

Medusa.
Content, for it is night.
And yonder comes Fedele with Fortunio hand in hande,
To shunne suspect, they shal not see vs talking here to stāde.

Exit.

Scena secunda.

Enter Fedele and Fortunio togither.
Fedele.
Come Sir Fortunio, now is the time to put you out of doubt,
Whether Victoria loue you, or your dealings doe but floute.
Here let vs shrowde our selues a while, that standing out of sight,
We may perceiue what louers haunt Victoriaes house by night.

Fortunio.
Agreede, this is the fittest time to passe the streete,
And giue her musike at her windowe, for a gallant meete.

Fedele.
Whiste, for her doore beginnes to creake,

Fortunio.
It doeth in deede.

Enter Pedante disguised, comming forth of Victoriaes house.
Fedele.
I see.

Fortunio.
A man me thinkes, O let me goe.

Fedele.
Stay Sir, be ruled by me,

Pedante.
O delicate Victoria so long as I liue,
For this entertainement, great thankes will I giue.
The remembrance of the sweetenesse of this night so well past,
Will feede me with hony whyle my life doeth last.

Exit.
Fortunio.
A villane, let me goe Fedele, let me goe I say:
I will reuenge this iniurie before he get away.

Fedele.
Not so, for raising of a tumult in the streete so late,
And troubling of the watche that stande armed at euery gate.

Fortunio.
Out strumpet, I will make thee now a mirror to this towne,
A pointing stocke to euery one that passeth vp and downe.

Fedele.
How will you be reuenged?

Fortunio.
By sworde, and sheathe it in her breste,

Fedele.
Be not too swift to serue her so, I thinke it were not beste.

Fortunio.
And why?

Fedele.
Because that if you kill her, then your selfe you doe defame,
Discredite her, and put her house, and kindred vnto shame.
Thus you shall euer walke in feare of those you neuer sawe,
Besides, her friendes will trippe at you, by danger of the lawe.

Fortunio.
How shall I be reuenged then?

Fedele.
Giue her a Fico out of hande,

Fortunio.
So should I scape, but the reuenge in little steede would stande.
For she should die, and none should know the villainie she did,
But euery tong ere long shall talke of that, that I haue spide.
Some other way I will deuise,

Fedele.
Doe so, for I'le be gone.

Exit.
Fortunio.
And I will see what this Victoria saith to me anon,
Who is there within?

Knocke at her doore.

Scena tertia.

Enter Victoria and Attilia to Fortunio.
Attilia.
Mistresse, beholde Fortunio.

Victoria,
I come to him, welcome good Sir.

Fortunio,
Out Hipocrite, no, no,
How do you like your other loue?

Victoria.
I like of none, but you.

Fortunio.
Tush, holde your peace, I had as liue you tolde me that it snew.
Euen now came one out of thy house, who bidding thee farewell,
Triumphed of thy courtesie, and said it did excell.

Victoria.
Come hither mayde, what haue you done? tell me, why doe you weepe?

Attilia.
T'is no matter mistresse, you thinke I let in my companions when you are a sleepe.
But seeing you haue no better confidence in me,
Pay me my wages, I'le be gone, your seruant no longer will I be.
Seeing you goe about, me so much to disgrace,
Prouide for your selfe, I can haue more wages in another place.

Victoria.
Peace peeuish foole, I thinke not so, yet let me aske I pray,
Because to slaunder me, you heare what Fortunio doeth say.

Attilia.
I force not what he saith, I know my conscience to be cleare,

Victoria,
And so is mine, although so stoutly he reproue me heer.

Fortunio.
Then had I neither listning eares to heare, nor eyes to see,
Sithe they faile not, I'le credite them, and giue no heede to thee.
But trust to it, and looke for it, thou shalt repent at last,
That ere thou bleard'st Fortunioes sighte with such a iugling cast.

Victoria.
It booteth not to speake to him, he is in such a heate,
But I durst lay my life Fedele wrought this feate.

Attilia.
It may be so.

Fortunio.
Thy falshood and thy Sorcerie, at length I haue perceiu'de,
But by thy subtile traine, no longer will I be deceiu'de.

Victoria.
I said, it was Fedeles deede, but Crack-stone is too slow,
To cut him off, before this rumors roote beginne to grow.

Attilia.
Mistresse, I'le seeke Crack-stone, and haste him to the deede,
Els I perceiue that very ill, your selfe is like to speede.

Victoria.
Doe so, and till I see Fortunioes angry moode be past,
T'is best out of his presence to conueighe my selfe in haste.
Farewell Sir Fortunio, thinke as you finde me.

Exeunt Victo. & Attilia.
Fortunio.
I will, and will reuenge it as farre as you binde me.
Fye hartlesse wretche, slowthfull, and that that's more,
Yet vnreuenged, why did I stay my hand?
Why did I not her faithlesse body gore?
Whiles in my power before me she did stand.
Why did I not for to fulfill my vowe:
Doe that, which none would couer nor allowe?
Her treason makes my raging thoughts to swell,
Beyonde the boundes of all humanitie,
Her falshoode driues the Furies out of hell.
To practise straunge and extreame crueltie.
Yet neither rancoures force, nor ougly fiende,
Hath scourge ynough for such a double friende.
But yet before reuenge my furie take,
I'le offer seruice to Virginia.
Least euery dame here after me forsake,
When it is knowen how I vsed Victoria.
Good lucke, Medusa heer me thinkes I see,
A cunning broker, very fit for mee.

Scena quarta.

Enter Medusa, with a Pedlers Basket vnder her arme, to Fortunio.
Medusa.
My toyle so great, rewarde so small, that euery man dooth giue,
Hath made me weary of my trade, vncertaine how to liue.

Fortunio.
Well met Medusa, whether goest thou with thy Packe so late?

Medusa.
I was abroade to sell my wares, at euery Ladies gate.
But being ouertaken thus by night, I hie me home,
Till Fortune send a better market, for the worlde is done.

Fortunio.
What hast thou solde?

Medusa.
Nothing but wordes,

Fortunio,
What hast thou got?

Medusa.
Nothing but winde:

Fortunio.
That market thou mighst well haue kept, and yet haue left thy Packe behinde,

Medusa.
Not so, for by the carriage that within my prettie Packe I haue,
I enter in those Ladies chambers, that I finde both fine and braue.
And vnder colour of the trifles I beare about to sell,
I pleade for such as you good Syr, that feele by loue the force of hell.

Fortunio.
What hast thou there?

Medusa.
Calles Gorgets, Heares, Powders to make a Ball,
Vallentia Gloues, and Venice Rolles, to rubbe the teeth withall.
Laces, Purses, Rings, Buskes, Wyers, and Glasses fine,
Bracelettes, Perfumes, Stilled waters, Sops in wine.
Pinnes, Bodkins, Staies, and other kinde of stuffe,
No more but tell me what you lacke, and you shall haue ynough.
A thousand knackes I haue, to vtter, which I must be slow,
Because they are so secret, as becomes not you to knowe.

Fortunio.
Neither am I importunate, to wring it out of thee,
Yet must I craue thee now, to showe thy selfe a friend to mee.

Medusa.
Wherein?

Fortunio.
Euen in the loue that I to faire Virginia beare.

Medusa.
I doubte it is too harde a taske, she loues Fedele so,
That she by no meanes can be wonne, Fedele to forgo.

Fortunio.
Yet doe thy best, to moue my sute.

Medusa.
The best I can I will,
And ransacke euery corner of my wittes to shewe my skill.
Either it must be done by crafte, or Magicke, which you please,

Fortunio.
By Crafte, or Magicke, which you liste, so I may purchase ease.

Medusa.
Sir, first by deceit I'le trie how I can bring the same about,
If shiftes doe faile, Enchaunted herbes shall put you out of doubt.
I will vnto her lodging straight, and stay your comming there,
Within an houre or halfe, to followe, see you doe not feare.
I'le tell her that I meane to bring Fedele to her bed,
When lightes are out, and sleepe is crept into her fathers head.
When you are in and halfe vnbraste, a tumult will I make,
And call her father vp, you in her chamber there to take.
You know age will suspect the worst, and when he sees you so,
Will force you then to marrie her, whether shee will or no.
Besides, when that the brute heer of is blowen in euery place,
Fedele and all other suters, will forsake the chace.
Loe, thus by subtiltie you shall possesse the dame you crau'de,
And yet by me when all is tolde, her honour shall be sau'de.

Fortunio.
This is as well as can be wishte, depart I pray thee straight.

Medusa.
I goe, forget not you to come.

Exit.

Scena quinta.

Enter Fedele with Pedante, and with them, two Watch-men with Billes.
Fortunio.
Upon thee will I waighte.
See where Fedele comes, because he shall not me suspecte,
I will auoyde the streetes a while, that nothing me detecte.

Exit.
Fedele.
And is it so Pedante?

Pedante.
It is as I tell ye.
Attilia tolde me, that her mistresse had made a request,
To Crack-stone, to sheathe his sworde in your brest.
Besides I goe as you knowe, disguised to the house for an other intent,
I sawe him come thence, bragging what he would doe, in the streetes as he went.

Fedele.
Alas poore soule, I know he dare scarce looke a flye in the face,
But seest thou this? I will prouide my Captaine to disgrace.
Come on my friendes, goe you and set this net at the Lanes end,
For when he comes, my sworde vpon this Gallant will I bend.
And crye aloude arme, arme, as though our enemies had the wall,
He hearing this, will take his heeles and let his anger fall.
We will pursue him so, that we will driue him to the net,
When he is in, pull you the cordes, for that same purpose set.
And make him fast, then will we leade him hampred in the same,
With mirth and glee about the towne, to put him to the shame.
Goe set it vp.

Watchmē
We will.

Pedante.
Ah, Sirra, I perceiue we shall goe a batfowling this night,
I would ye Captaine would come, that of this pretie sport I might haue a sight.

Fedele.
Whiste, not a worde, for he is at hande,
Come let vs both priuily in ambush stande.

Scena sexta.

Enter Captaine Crack-stone, armed like a Champion.
Crack-st.
Now shall my valerositie appeare vnto all,
How I can kill men, and serue a woman at her call.
My gr[OMITTED]test griefe is, that in dooing this feate,
I am sure my honour will not be so greate.
As when I giue a charger to my foes in the open feelde,
Or put Citties into sackes, and make thousandes to yeelde.
To bring Fedele to the Counter, is but to fight with a flie,
There is neither praise, pride, nor prouidence in the victorie.
Therefore take heede Crack-stone what you doe,
You hazarde your good name, your honour standes on tip toe.
To kill a Gentlemā yt neuer ought me malice, is more thē crueltie,
And to kill him for a woman, will bring me vtterly to infancie.
Shall I kill him then? peraduenture yea: shall I let him go?
Peraduenture I may, peraduenture no.
Oh single deuise, here is a braine I beleeue,
Able to shoote birdboltes of inuentiōs, from my head into my sleeue.
I will make a great noyse before Victoriaes doore in the streete,
As though at this present with Fedele I did meete.
Then will I runne to her house amayne,
And make her beleeue that Fedele is slayne.
Then before that she heare any newes of his life,
I'le haue her to the Priest, and make her my wife.
Haue euen at it as well as I can,
Fight with the Ayre.
Ah Uillaines, thus many of you set vpon a naked man.
Drawe on my good fellowes and spare not, strike home,
Ah cowardly Dastardes, so sone be you gone?

Fedele.
Arme, Arme, Arme.

Pedante.
Kill, kill, kill.

Fedele.
Downe with Crack-stone.

Pedante.
Giue me a Bill.

Heere Crack-stone runnes into the net, Fedele after him, leauing Pedante on the stage.
Fedele.
Followe, followe.

Crack-st.
Out alas where am I now?

Pedante.
Faste ynough by this time I trow.
Is this my lusty kill Cow, that will eate vp so many men at a bit,
And when he deales with a shadowe will not stand to it?

Enter Fedele and two or three other, leading Crack-stone in the net, singing.
Be still my mates, that keepe the gates,
When euery watch is set:
Your lucke is naught, your freendes haue caught,
Your Captaine in a net.
Heigh ho Crack-stone, heigh ho Crack-stone.
A Nodie, a Nodie, a Nodie, we haue,
Heigh hoe, Crack-stone, lustie and braue.
Now souldiers all, forsake the wall,
Your foes haue got the towne,
Manhood is fled, God Mars is dead,
Your Captaine is a clowne.
Heigh ho Crack-stone, Heigh ho Crack-stone,
A Nodie, a Nodie, a Nodie, we haue,
Heigh ho Crack-stone, lusty and braue.

Victoria
out at her windowe.
Attilia, come hither streight, some sturre is in the streete,
Me thinkes I heare the noise of men, and trampling of their feete.

Fedele.
Ah Sir, you meant to kill me you, to please Victoria,
But now I trust to make of thee a poore Crack-stone, if I may.

Crack-st
If that victorious Prince of battaile god Marche-beere, had not bene a sleepe,
I had made you euery one into corners to creepe.
T'is the Fortune of warre, lucke runnes not euer to one side,
Therefore I am content the prickatorie to abide.
I am not strong Sampier to breake out of your hands,
But oh yt some little hōgry Mouse, would gnaw a sunder my bāds.
I would giue you such a frezado, or cāuazado, take which you please
As should be small to your comfort, and little to your ease.

Pedante.
Oh what this Captaine would do, if he were out of his skin,
Till his courage be cooler, I pray you holde him in.

Attilia.
Mistresse, I can not tell what is best to be saide,
Once more I perceiue you are betraide.
I see that Fedele and his friendes haue your Champion beset,
And now both to his shame and yours, he is caught in a net.

Victoria.
Art thou sure that it is so?

Attilia.
Haue an eye to the ende.

Fedele.
Now let vs shew him to Victoria, his dearest friend.

Pedante.
Then let him be led through euery streete in ye towne,
That euery crackrope, may throw rottē egs at ye clown.

Here they bring him singing vn to Victor. windowe.
Fedele.
Hoe, Victoria, if yu be awake, rise & looke out I pray,

Crack-st.
The hunt is vp,
And fooles be fledg'de before the perfect day.

Victoria.
Who calles?

Shrinke in & looke out againe.
Fedele.
Fedele: See the Champion, whome you set to murder me,
This deed throughout the Cittie, shortly shall dishonour thee.

Victoria.
Out, I defie him.

Fedele.
What sayest thou Attilia?

Attilia.
He is a knaue, I denie him.

Crack-st
Thou art a Drabbe and a Queane, if my name be Crack-stone,
I was requested to this, both by thee and Victoria.

Attilia.
By my mistresse and me good man Coward, doe you know what you say?
Take yt Sir, your face was not washte yester day.

Emptie a chāber pot on his head.
Crack-st
A rope on all whores, will you drinke any Ale,
I thinke she crownde me with a potle of stale.
This drinke was ill brued, and might haue bene sparde,
The very graines of the Malte, stickes fast to my bearde.

Pedante.
You will tell me more anon, when euery maide in this towne,
Hath emptied her almes box on the top of your crowne.

Crack-st
Alas good maister Fedele, as you are a Gentleman, no farther let me go,
I shall be chok'te with this dole, if you handle me so.
Consider I am a man, subiect to ye same pressing-yron of ye minde yt other mē are,
For the loue of a woman, ouerwhelmed with care.
I confesse I am as you are, flesh & blood, and loued Victoria so well,
That I could haue bin content for her sake, to haue gone quicke to hell.
Therefore forgiue me, and if I take not your part, and be reuenged vpon her, before I doe reste,
Set the gun-shot of tyrannie to the bulwarkes of my breste.
Cut off my Rammes hornes, and breake into the belfrie,
And blesse the cursed dayes of my virginitie.

Pedante.
He rowles in his Retorike as an Ape in his tayle,
Wynde and tide at commaundement, he flyes with full sayle.

Fedele.
So that thou seeke all meanes thou canst, Victoria to deface,
And blaze her in eache company, and strike her in disgrace.
I let thee goe.

Let him out of the net.
Crack-st
Unhoode me I pray,
I am as wearie of my cariage as a Dogge of his day.

Pedante
Slacke the cordes there my masters, giue him sea-roome in haste,
Close ayre is not holsome for Gallants to taste.

Crack-st
Now I beginne to feele my heart by little & little rise out of my hose,
Yet the sente of this water, is still in my nose.
I thinke I am the perplexionablest man that liues at this day,
For I would faine be reuenged of Victoria, and I know not which way.

Pedante.
Follow my counsell, and be ruled by mee,
Then shalt thou see Captaine, what I'le doe for thee.
I'le teache thee a way, to crye quittance with her before it be long,
And make her recant her chatering at window with an other song.

Crack-st
Gramercy Pediculus, thou art the comfortablest fellowe that euer I did see,
I thinke thou wast borne vnder some merry Planet, in the time of diuersitie.

Fedele.
Now sith Victoriaes name is like for euer to be lost,
Further reuenge I will not seeke, as I to her did boste.
Because that as my selfe vniustly seru'd Virginia.
So am I now iustly requited by Victoria.
Therefore Pedante goe, and pardon of Virginia craue,
And tell her that I will be hers,

Pedante.
That's it she would haue.
But I beseech you Sir, tarry till the day be light,
I am loth to goe stumbling in the streetes this night,

Fedele.
Then till the morning let it rest, but early see thou rise,
And doe my message in the meekest sort thou canst deuise.
Meanewhyle wee'le home and take a sleepe, for I am ouer-watcht.

Exit with them that helde the net.
Pedante.
Uery well Sir, beare you the net after,
I haue some businesse with the Captaine to be dispatcht.
Now maister Captaine come with me, for as soone as my maister to bed I haue brought,
You shall see what a thing for you I haue wrought.
And because you haue determined on Victoria to reuenge your wrōg,
It must be done this night or neuer, time doe not prolong.
As her flatterie this night, bring did you in bandes,
So this night I shall deliuer her into your handes.

Crack-st.
Then let vs away and our selues prouide,
Thou knowest the paruerbe, no body taries for the tide.

Exeunt.
The fourth Act being ended, the Consort soundeth a pleasant Allemaigne.