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5

Actus Secundus.

The Argument of the second Act.

Hind feigning himself a great Lord, putting some of his Train into rich Liveries, and storing his and their pockets with Gold, growes very intimate with a brave and noble Lady, whom at once he deprives of the inestimable jewell of her honour, together with much treasure.
Enter HIND solus, in brave cloathes.
Tush! Pluto's wrath Proserpin can melt,
So that thy Sacrifice be freely felt:
What cannot Juno force in bed with Jove,
Turn and return a Sentence with her love:
Well! plainly thus; Sleight, Force, are mighty things
From which even all, all earthly glory springs.
If Vertues self were clad in humane shape,
Vertue without these might go beg and scrape:
The naked truth is, a well-cloath'd lie,
A nimble quick-pate, mounts to dignity;
By force or fraud, that matters not a jot,
So massie wealth may fall into thy lot.

Enter Grammario.
Gram.
Quod gratis grate; and I dare aver
That Hiadolgo the Astrologer
Is a right honest man—All hail my Soveraign.

Hind.
Prithee no Jibs,
Thou know'st my plot upon fair infortunia,
A wealthy widow; nay, a beauteous widow;
A Lady of high birth, and great perfection,
Be thou my Conduct and my Genius,
My wits inciting sweet-breath'd Zephirus:

6

Some Verses, some Verses, my Helliconian Harper,
Women are strangely taken with strange words.

Gram.
Totum in toto, Sir, I have fitted you I faith,
I was fain to devoure one whole page out of Ovid,
Three large siz'd sentences out of Catullus
One Axiome out of Hero and Leander;
And a whole stanzao out of Venus and Adonis,
Ere I could hit upon a right strain of poesie;
But at length I hammer'd them out.
pray mark me,
He reads,
Fairest peece of well-form'd earth,
Urge not this your haughty Birth,
The power which you have or'e us lyes,
Not in your race but in your eyes
Should you no Honey vow to taste
But what the master Bees have plac'd
In compasse of their cells, how small
A portion to your share would fall;
The sap which at the root is bred
In Trees through all the Boughes is spred,
But vertues which in Parents shine
Make not like progres through the line:
'Tis not from whom, but where we live,
The place does oft those graces give
Great Julius on the Mountains bred,
A Flock perhaps, or Herd had led;
He that the world subdu'd had been
But the best Wrestler on the Green;
'Tis Art and Knowledge which draw forth
The hidden seeds of native worth,
They blow those sparks and make them rise
Into such flames as touch the Skies.
Smile but on me and you shall scorne
Henceforth to be of Princes born.


7

Hind.
They are most incomparable;
Twas well remembred for to urge my breeding;
My birth I'm sure would Butcher all my hopes.
Thou seest how bravely I am clad (my boy)
In speaking garments, speaking pockets too.
chink's his pockets.
The Lord Porta Rich (Grammario) is my name:
Go thou, and give that paper to the Lady,
Sing in her ear like to the amorous Lute,
Set forth my name in a Stentorian tone;
Ile second thee my self in person presently:
Be gone.

Gram.
Ile do my utmost (Sir)

Hind.
It is a high, brave thing to have th'repute
Of compleat villain, perfect, absolute.

Exit.
Enter Infortunia, with Grammario, servants.
Infort.
Sir, your Lord no doubt is ev'ry way accomplish'd:
And Ile assure you, finds far more regard
From me, in the reception of this paper,
Then any personage of honour hitherto
Could ever boast, though earnestly endeavoured.

Gram.
Madam, if you did know who seeks your love,
You would—he comes himself.

Enter Hind in rich Apparel, Furbo, Latro, Spolario in costly Liveries, bare-headed, attending him.
Hind.
Madam, I hope my boldnesse shall find pardon,
And my affectionate zeal plead my excuse.
Distribute those few Diamonds, and Pearl Bracelets
to Furbo.
Unto the Ladies that attend this Excellency.

Furbo gives many Bristol stones, and counterfeit Pearls to the attending Gentlewoman.

8

Infor.
My Lord your honour sets too high a rate
Vpon so mean a beauty as is mine

Furbo, and his fellows steal off.
Hind,
You are sole Empress of all worth,
Command my state, my person and my life.

Infor.
Your honour is too courteous to your handmaid,
Please you, this night, to let your presence grace
My homely Table, your honours candor must
Apologize for my rude entertainment.

Hind,
Excellent creature, ever command your vassail.

Serv.
Lights there for my Lord; lights—

Exeunt.
Enter Furbo, Latro, &c.
Furb.
They are all gag'd and bound.

Latro.
As safe as my Lord Hind in his mistresse armes.

Furb.
Are they in bed together?

Lat.
To my knowledge,

Spolario,
We shall soon part their struglings.

Furb.
Theeves, theeves,

Exeunt, and return laden with bags of gold, and caskets of jewels, having blodied themselves.
Spola.
Theeves,

Lat.
Murther, murther.

Enter Infortunia and Hind, almost naked, with his sword drawn.
Hind,
What sawcie devils interrupt our joyes?
What mean these clamours, speak upon your lives?

Lat.
Alas! my Lord the house is rob'd.

Infor.
Oh, I am quite undone—

Furb.
You see how we are sanguin'dore
Fighting for to prevent such outrages:

Spolar.
My leg is almost cut in sunder, oh—

Hind,
Be not discomforted (dear Lady)
Every man mount his steed, and take his Arms;
My self too, will along: accurst mischance;
To horse, to horse; you Lady to your bed.

Infor.
Oh me!
Exit Infortunia.

Hind,
Why this is bravely done my Bullies;
Thus do the Gods sell all for industry,
And what's not got by hell-bred Villanie?
Conscience they talk on; conscience is free,
Worst conscienc'd men, these times, best thrivers be;

9

As't please the Thracean Boreas to blow
So turns our ayrie conscience to and fro.

Exeunt.