The Wonder of A Kingdom

THE WONDER OF A Kingdome .

Quod non Dant proceres , Dabit Histrio .

Written by THOMAS DEKKER .

LONDON : Printed by Robert Raworth , for Nicholas Vavasour ; and are to bee sold at his Shop in the Inner Temple , neere the Church-doore . 1636 .

The Prologue . THus from the Poet , I am bid to say ; Hee knows what Iudges sit to Doome each Play , ( The Over-curious Critick , or the Wise ) The one with squint ; 'Tother with Sunn-like eyes , Shootes through each scaene ; The one cries all things down Tother , hides strangers Faults , close as his Owne : Las ! Those that out of custome come to jeere , ( Sung the full quire of the Nine Muses heere ) So Carping , — not from Wit , but Apish spite , And Fether'd Ignorance , — Thus ! ô Poet does slight . 'T is not a gay sute , or Distorted Face , Can beate his Merit off , — Which has won Grace In the full Theater ; — Nor can now feare The Teeth of any Snaky whisperer ; But to the white , and sweete unclowded Brow , ( The heaven where true worth moves ) our Poet do's bow : Patrons of Arts , and Pilots to the Stage , Who guide it ( through all Tempests ) from the Rage Of envious Whirlewindes , — ô , doe you but steere His Muse , This day ; And bring her to th' wished shore , You are those Delphick Powers whom shee 'le adore .

Dramatis Personae . Duke of Florence . Prince of Pisa . Lord Vanni . Trebatio his Sonne . Mutio . Courtiers . Philippo . Tornelli .

Piero the Dukes Sonne . Gasparo his Friend . Tibaldo Neri , Lover of Dariene L. Vanni's wife . Angelo Lotti , Lover of Fiametta . Baptista , his friend . Iacomo Gentili , The Noble House-keeper . Signior Torrenti , The Riotous Lord . Fiametta , the Dukes Daughter . Dariene , Old Lord Vannies Wife . Alisandra , her Daughter . Alphonsina , sister to Tibaldo Neri . Cargo , Lord Vanni's man . Two Curtizans . A Nurse .

THE WONDER OF A Kingdome . Actus primus . Scaena prima . Enter Duke of Florence , Prince of Pisae , Nicoletto Vanni , Trebatio his sonne , Mutio , Philippo , Tornelli , Gallants , Tibaeldo Neri , Alphonsina his sister , Daeriene Old Vannies wife , Cargo a serving-man . WEe surfit heere on Pleasures : Seas nor Land Cannot invite us to a Feast more glorious , Then this day we have sat at : my Lord Vanni , You have an excellent seate heere ; T is a building May entertaine a Caesar : but you and I Should rather talke of Tombs , then Pallaces , Let 's leave all to our heires , for we are old . Nico. Old ! hem ? all heart of brasse , sound as a bell , Old ? why , I le tell your Graces ; I have gone But halfe the bridge ore yet ; there lies before me As much as I have pass'd , and I 'le goe it all . Flo. Mad Vanni still . Nic. Old Oakes doe not easily fall : Decembers cold hand combes my head and beard , But May swimmes in my blood ; and he that walkes Without his wooden third legge , is never old . Pisa . What is your age my Lord ? Nic. Age , what call you age ? I have liv'd some halfe a day , some halfe an houre . Flo. A tree of threescore-yeares growth ; nothing . Tib. A meere slip , you have kept good diet my lord . Nic. Let whores kepe diet , Tibaldo ner'e ; never did Rivers runn In wilder , madder streames , then I have done , I 'le drinke as hard yet as an Englishman , Flo. And they are now best Drinkers . Pisa . They put downe the Dutch-men cleane , Nic. I le yet upon a wager hit any fencers button , Car, Some of 'em ha' no buttons to their doublets . Nic. Then knave I le hit his flesh , and hit your cocks - If you crosse mine once more . ( combe Flo. Nay be not angry . Nic. I have my Passees : and my Passadoes , My Longes , my Stockadoes , Imbrocadoes , And all my Pimtoes , and Pimtillioes Here at my fingers ends . Flo. By my faith 't is well . Nic. Old why ; I ne're tooke Phisicke , nor ever will , I 'le trust none that has Art and leave to kill : Now for that chopping herbe of hell Tobacco ; The idle-mans-Devill , and the Drunkards-whore , I never medled with her , my smoake goes , Out at my kitchin chimney , not my nose . Flo. And some Lords have no chimnies but their noses . Nic. Tobacco-shopps shew like prisons in hell ; Hote , smoaky , stinking , and I hate the smell . Pis. who 'd thinke that in a coale of Ashy white , Such fire were glowing ? Flo. May not a snuffe give light ? Tib. You see it doe's in him . Alph. A withered-tree , doth oft beare branches . Nic. What thinke you then of me sweete Lady . Alph. Troth my Lord as of a horse , vilely , if he can Neither wihi , nor wagg's-Taile . Flo. The Lady Alphonsina Neri , has given it you my Lord . Nic. The time may come I may give it her too . Flo, I doubt Lord Vanni she will cracke no Nutts , With such a tough shell , as is yours and mine , But leaving this , le ts see you pray , at Court , Nico. I thanke your grace . Flo. Your wife , and your faire daughter , One of the stars of Florence with your sonne Heire to your worth and Honours , Trebatio Vanni . Treb. I shall attend your grace . Flo. The holy knot , Hymen shall shortly tie , and in faire bands , Vnite Florence and Pisa by the hands , Or Fyametta and this Pisa Duke ( Our Noble son in law ) and at this daie , Pray be not absent . Nic. We shall your will obey , Flo. We heare there is a gallant that out-vies Vs , and our court for brauery , and expence , For royall feasts , triumphs and revellings . Nic. He 's my neere kinsman , mine owne brothers son , Who desperately a prodigall race doth ronne , And for this riotous humour , he has the by-name , Signior Torrenti , a swift Head-long streame . Flo. But ther 's another layes on more then he . Nic. Old Iacomo ? open handed charitie , Sit's ever at his gates to welcome guests , He makes no bone-fires , as my riotous kinsman , And yet his chimneis cast out braver smoake , The Bellows which he blowes with are good deeds , The rich he smiles upon , the poore he feeds . Flo. These gallants we 'le be feasted by , and Feast Fames praises of 'em , shall make us their guest , Meane time we 'le hence Exit . Florence , Pisa , &c. Enter Cargo . Car.

I have News to tell your Lordship , Signior Angelo ( of the Locti Famely is banished .

Dari. How banish't ? alas poore Angelo Lotti . Treb. Why must he goe from Florence ? Cargo . Because he can stay there no longer . Nic. To what end is he driven from the Citie ? Cargo . To the end he should goe into some other my Lord . Nic. Hoida . Car. I hope this is newes Sir . Nic. What speake the people of him ? Car.

As bells ring ; some out , some in , all jangle , they say he Has dealt with the Genoway against the state : but whether with the men , or the women ; t is to be stood upon .

Nic. Away Sir knave and foole . Car. Sir knave , a new word : fooles , and knaves Sir ? Exit . Nic. This muttering long agoe flew to mine eare , The Genoway is but a line throwne out , But Fiametta's love , the net that choakes him . Tre. He 's worthy of her equall , Nic. Peace foolish boy , At these state bone-fires ( whose flames reach so high ) To stand aloose , is safer then too nigh . Exit Enter Tibaldo Neri , and Alphonsina . Alp. Why brother , what 's the matter ? Tib. I 'me ill , exceeding ill . Alp. That 's not well . Tib. Sure I did surfet at Lord Vannies . Alp. Surfet ? you eate some Meate against your stomack . Tib.

No , but I had a stomack to one dish , and the not tasting it , makes me sick at heart .

Alp. Was it fish or flesh ? Tib. Flesh sure , if I hit the marke right . Alp. I' st not the missing of a marke ( which you long to hit ) Makes you draw sighes in stead of arrowes ? Tib. Would I had beene a thousand leagues from thence , When I sat downe at 's table or bin partner With Angelo Lotti in his banishment ; Oh! sister Alphonsina , there I dranke My bane the strongest poison that e're man Drew from a Ladies eye , now swelling in me . Alp. By casting of thy water thy , I guesse thou would'st Have a medcine for the greene sicknes . Tib. 'T is a greene wound indeed . Alp. Tent it , tent it , and keepe it from ranckling , you are Over head and eares in love . Tib. I am and with such mortall Arrowes pierc't I shall fall downe — Alp. There 's no hurt in that . Tib. And dye unlesse he her pitty Send me a quicke and sweete recovery . Alp. And faith what doctresse is she must call you patient ? Tib. Faire Dariene , the Lord Vannies wife — Alp. How ! Dariene ? can no feather fit you but the broach in an Old mans hatt ? were there so many dainty dishes To fill your belly , and must you needs long for that dish The master of the house setts up for his owne tooth . Tib. Could love be like a subject , tied to lawes , Then might you speake this language . Alp. Love ? a disease as common with young-gallants as Swaggering and drinking Tobacco , there 's not one Of 'um all but will to day ly drawing on for a Woman , as if they were puffing and blowing at a streight boot , And to morrow be ready to knock at deathes doore , But I wo'd faine see one of you enter and set in His staffe . Tib. You shall see me then do so . Alp.

I shall looke so old first , I shall be taken for thy grandame ; come , come 't is but a worme betweene the skinne And the flesh , and to be taken out with the point of a Waiting-womans needle , as well as a great Countesses .

Tib. If this be all the comfort you will lend me , Would you might leave me — Alp.

Leave thee in sicknes ? I had more need give thee a Caudle ; and thrust thy adle-head into a night-Capp , for looke you brother —

Tib. Even what you will must out Alp. If what you will might so too , then would you be in Tune : I warrant , if the sucket stood here before Thee , thy stomach would goe against it . Tib. Yes sure my stomack would goe against it : 'T is onely that which breeds in me despaire . Alp. Despaire for a woman ? they hang about mens Neckes in some places thicker then hope upon poles . Tib. Her walls of chastitie cannot be beaten downe . Alp. Walls of chastitie ? walls of wafer-cakes , I have Knowne a woman carry a fether-bed , and a man in 't In her minde , when in the streete she cast up the white of Her eye like a Puritane . Tib. Sister you do but stretch me on the racke And with a laughing cheeke increase my paine , Be rather pitifull and ease my torments By teaching me how in this dreadfull storme , I may escape ship-wrack and attaine that shore Where I may live , heere else I 'me sure to die . Alp. Well brother , since you will needs saile by such a Starre as I shall point out , looke you heere it is ; if she were Your Fether-makers , Taylors or Barbers wife , Baite a hooke with gold , and with it — Tib. I doe conjure you by that noble blood Which makes me call you sister , cease to powre Poison into a wound , so neere my heart , And if to cure Loves-paines there be an Art . Woman me thinkes should know it cause she breeds it , Alp. That cunning woman you take me to be , and because I see you dissemble not , heer 's my medcine . Tib. I shall for ever thanke you . Alp. First send for your Barber . Tib. For heavens sake . Alp. Your barber shall not come to rob you of your beard , I 'le deale in no concealements — Tib. Oh! fie , fie , fie — Alp. But let him by rubbing of you quicken Your spirits . Tib. So so . Alp. Then whistle your gold-finches ( your gallants ) to your fist . Tib. Y' ar mad , y' ar mad . Alp.

Into a Tanerne , Drinke stiffe , sweare stiffe ; have your musicke , and your brace , dance , and whiffe Tobacco ,

Till all smoake Agen , and split Sir . Tib. You split my very heart in pieces . Alp.

And doe thus , but till the Moore cutts off her hornes ; Laugh in the day , and sleepe in the night : and this wenching fier will be burnt out of you .

Tib. Away , away , cruell you are to kill , When to give life , you have both power and skill . Exit . Alp. Alas , poore brother now I pitty thee and wo'd doe Any thing to helpe thee to thy longing , but that a Gap must be broken , in another mans hedge to rob His orchard , within there Luca Angelo , give him Musick : Musicke has helpt some mad-men , let it then Charme him , Love makes fooles of the wisest men . Exit . Enter at one doore , Angelo Lotti , and Baptista , at the other , Piero , and Iaspero . Pier. Yonder 's that villaine , keepe off Iaspero : This prey I 'le cease . All draw . Iasp. Be more advised Sir . Bap. At whose life shoote you ? Pier. At that slaves there . Ang.

Slave ? I know you for the Dukes sonne , but I know no cause of quarrell , or this base reproach .

Pier. Thou art a villaine . Ang. Wherein ? Pier. And by witch-craft , Had stole my sister Fiamettas heart , Forceing her leave a Prince his bed for thine . Ang. If for her love you come to kill me ; heere

I 'le point you to a doore where you may enter and fetch out a loath'd life .

Pier. Iaspero . Iasp. Oh my Lord . Ang. Let him come , I ow her all ; And that debt will I pay her gladly . Iasp. Deare Sir heare him — Ang. But if on any other fier of rage ; You thirst to drinke my blood , heere I defie You , and your malice ; and returne the villaine Into your throate . Pier. So brave sir . Change a thrust or two . Enter Nicolletto , and Cargo . Nico. I charge you in the Dukes name , keepe the peace ; Beate downe their weapons , knock em downe Cargo . Car. I have a Iustices warrant to apprehend your weapons , Therefore I charge you deliver . Nico. Oh my Lord : make a fray in an open streete ? 't is to Make a bon-fire to draw children and fooles Together ; Signior Angelo , pray be wise , and begon . Ang. I doe but guard my life ( my Lord ) from danger . Bapt. Sir , you doe exercise your violence ; Vpon a man , stab'd to the heart with wounds ; You see him sinking , and you set your foote Vpon his head , to kill him with two deathes ; Trample not thus on a poore banish'd man . Nico. If hee be banish'd , why dwells hee i th' house , whose Tiles are pull'd downe over his head ? You must hunt No more in this Parke of Florence ; why then Doe you lie sneaking heere , to steale venison ? Ang. My Lords , I take my last leave of you all ; Of love , and fortunes — Bapt. Lower thou canst not fall . Exit . Iasp. Trust mee , my Lord , This Lotti is a man , ( Setting aside his rivall-ship in love , For which you hate him ) so abundant rich In all the Vertues of a Gentle-man , That had you read their file , as I haue done , You would not onely fall in love with him , And hold him worthy of a Princesse bed , But grieve , that for a woman , such a man Should so much suffer ; in being so put downe , Never to rise againe . Nicol. A terrible case , i 'de not be in 't for all Florence . Pie . Troth deare friend , The praises which have crown'd him with thy Iudgement , Make mee to cast on him an open eye , Which was before shut , and I pittie him . I Never heard 'mongst all your Romane spirits . Iasp. That any held so bravely up his head , In such a sea of troubles ( that come rowling One on anothers necke ) as Lotti doth , Hee puts the spite of Fortune to disgrace , And makes her , when shee frownes worst , turne her face . Pier. No more : I love him ; and for all the Dukedome , Would not have cut so Noble a spreading Vine , To draw from it one drop of blood ; Lord Vanni , I thanke you that you cur'd our wounded peace , So fare you well . Exit . Nico. A good health to you both . Iasp. You play the Constable wisely . Carg. And I his Beadle , I hope as wisely . Nico. The Constable wisely ; Cargo he calls me foole by craft , But let 'em passe . Carg. As Gentle-men doe by Creditors ( muffled ) Nico.

I haue another case to handle : thou know'st the Donna Alphonsina , of the Neri Familie .

Carg. The little Paraquinto that was heere when the Duke Was feasted , shee had quick-silver in her mouth , for Her tongue , like a Bride the first night , never lay still . Nico. The same Aspen-leafe , the same ; is 't not a Galley for The Great Turke to be row'd in ? Carg. I thinke my Lord , in calme weather , shee may set upon A Gally-ass bigge as your Lordship . Nico. Commend me to this Angelica . Carg. Angelica-water is good for a cold stomach . Nico. I am all fire . Carg. Shee 's a cooler . Nico. Would 't were come to that . Carg. A small thing does it my Lord ; in the time a Flemming drinkes a Flap-dragon . Nico.

Give her this paper , and this ; in the one she may know my minde , in the other , feele me : this a Letter , this a Iewell :

Tell her , I kisse the little white naile of her little white Finger , of her more little white hand , of her most Little white bodie . Carg. Her tell-tale , for all this will I bee . Nico.

Thou hast beene my weavers shuttle to runne betwixt me and my stuffes of Procreandi causa .

Carg. A suite of Stand-farther-off , had bin better sometimes . Nico. No Cargo , I have still the Lapis mirabilis ; be thou close — Carg. As my Ladies Chamber-maide . Nico. Away then , nay quicke knave , thou rack'st mee . Exit . Carg. I goe to stretch you to your full length . Exit . Enter Iocomo Gentili , in a suite of gray , Velvet-gowne , Cap , Chaine , Steward , and Serving-men , Mutio , Philippo , Tornelli Montinello . Gent. Happy be your arivall , Noble friends ; You are the first , that like to Doves repaire To my new building ; you are my first-borne guests , My eldest sonnes of hospitalitie ; Here 's to my hearty wellcomes . Mutio. Worthy Lord , In one word , and the word of one , for all , Our thankes are as your welcomes , Infinite . Phil. Rome in her Auncient pride , never rais'd up A worke of greater wonder , then this building . Gent. T is finish'd , and the cost stands on no score , None can for want of payment , at my doore , Curse my foundation , praying the roofe may fall On the proud builders head , seeing the smoake goe Out of those Chimneys , for whose bricks I owe . Tor. To erect a frame so glorious , large , and hie , Would draw a very sea of silver drie . Mont. My Lord Iocomo Gentili , pray tell us , How much money have you buried under this kingly building ? Gent. Pray call it not so : The humble shrub , no Cedar heere shall grow ; You see Three hundred Dorick pillars stand About one square , Three hundred Noble friends Lay'd ( in their loves ) at raising of those Columnes , A piece of gold under each Pedestall , With his name grav'd upon the bottome stone , Except that cost , all other was mine owne ; See heere , each dayes expences are so great , They make a volume , for in this appeares , It was no taske of weekes , or moneths , but yeares : I trust my steward onely with the key , Which keepes that secret ; heere 's Arithmetick For churles to cast up , there 's nhe roote of all ; If you have skill in numbers , number that . Mont. Good Mr. Steward read it . Stew. All the charge In the grosse summe , amounteth to — Gent. To what ? Thou vaine vaine-glorious foole , goe burne that Booke , No Herald needs to blazon Charities Armes ; Goe burne it presently . Stew. Burne it ? Exit . Gent. Away , I lanch not forth a ship , with drums and gunnes , And Trumpets , to proclaime my gallantry ; He that will reade the wasting of my gold , Shall find it writ in ashes , which the winde Will scatter ere he spends it ; Another day , The wheele may turne , and I that built thus high , May by the stormes of want , be driven to dwell In a thatch't Cottage ; Rancor shall not then Spit poyson at me , pinning on my backe This card ; Hee that spent thus much , now does lack . Mont. Why to your house adde you so many gates ? Gent. My gates fill up the number of seuen dayes , At which , of guests , seven severall sorts I le welcome : On Munday , Knights whose fortunes are sunke low ; On Tuesday , those that all their life-long read The huge voluminous wonders of the deepe , Sea-men ( I meane ) and so on other dayes , Others shall take their turnes . Phi. Why have you then built twelue such vaste roomes . Gent. For the yeares twelve moones ; In each of which , twelue Tables shall be spread ; At them , such whom the world scornes , shall be fed , The windowes of my building , which each morne , Are Porters , to let in mans comfort ( light ) Are numbred just three hundred sixtie five , And in so many daies the sunne does drive His chariot stuck with beames of Burnish't gold , My Almes shall such diurnall progresse make As doe's the sunne in his bright-Zodiack . Tor. You differ from the guise of other lands , Where Lords lay all their livings on the racke , Not spending it in bread , but on the backe . Gent. Such Lords eate men , but men shall eate up me , My uncle the Lord Abbot had a soule Subtile and quick , and searching as the fier , By Magicke-stayers he went as deepe as hell , And if in devills possession gold be kept , He brought some sure from thence , 't is hid in caves Knowne ( save to me ) to none , and like a spring The more 't is drawne , the more it still doth rise , The more my heape wastes , more it multiplies . Now whither ( as most rich-men doe ) he pawn'd His soule for that deare purchase none can tell , But by his bed-side when he saw death stand Fetching a deepe groane , me he catch't-by'th hand Cal'd me his heire , and charg'd me well to spend What he had got ill , deale ( quoth he ) a doale which round ( with good mens prayers ) may guard my soule Now at her setting forth : let none feele want That knock but at thy gates : do wrong to none , And what request to thee so ear is made , If honest , see it never be denay'd . Mont. And yow 'le performe all this ? Gent. Faire & upright , As are the strict vowes of an Anchorite : A benefit given by a Niggards hand Is stale and gravily bread , the hunger-sterv'd Takes it , but cannot eate it ; I le give none such . Who with free heart shakes out but crums , gives much . Mont. In such a ship of worldly cares my Lord As you must saile now in , yow 'le need more Pilots Then your owne selfe to sit and steare the Helme . You might doe therefore well to take a wife ; Gent. A wife ? when I shall have one hand in heaven , To write my happinesse in leaves of starres ; A wife wo'd plucke me by the other downe : This Barke hath thus long sail'd about the world , My soule the Pilot , and yet never listen'd To such a Mare-maids song : a wife , oh fetters , To mans blest liberty ! All this world 's a prison , Heaven the high wall about it , sin the jalour , But the iron-shackles waying downe our heeles , Are onely women , those light Angells turne us , To fleshly devills , I that Sex admire , But never will sit neere their wanton fier . Mut. Who then shall reape the golden corne you sowe ? Phi.

'T is halfe a curse to them , that build , and spare , and hoard up wealth , yet cannot name an heire .

Gent. My heires shall be poore children fed on almes , Souldiers that want limbes , schollers poore and scorn'd . And these will be a sure inheritance ; Not to decay : Mannors and Townes will fall , Lord-ships and Parkes , Pastures and woods be sold ; But this Land still continues to the Lord : No subtile trickes of law , can me beguile of this . But of the beggers-dishe , I shall drinke healthes To last for ever ; whil'st I live , my roofe Shall cover naked wretches ; when I die , 'T is dedicated to St. Charitie . Mut. The Duke inform'd , what trees of goodnesse grow , Here of your planting , in true loue to your virtues ; Sent us to give you thankes , for crowning Florence , With fame of such a subject , and entreats you ( Vntill he come himselfe ) to accept this token , Of his faire wishes towards you . Gent. Pray returne my duty to the Duke , tell him I value his love beyond all jewells in the world . Phi. H 'as vow'd ere long to be your visitant . Gent. He shall be welcome when he comes , that 's all ; Not to a Pallace , but my hospitall . Omnes . Wee 'le leave your Lordship . Gent. My best thoughts goe with you : My Steward ? Enter Steward , and a foolish Gentle-man . Stew. Heere my Lord . Gent. Is the Booke fired ? Stew. As you commanded Sir , I saw it burn'd . Gent. Keep safe that Iewell , and leave me ; letters ! from whome ? Buz. Signior Ieronimo Guydanes . Gent. Oh sir , I know the businesse : yes , yes , 't is the same ; Cuidanes lives amongst my bosome friends : He writes to have me entertaine you sir . Buz. That 's the bough , my bolt flies at , my Lord . Gent. What Qualities are you furnish't with ? Buz. My Education has bin like a Gentle-man . Gent. Have you any skill in song , or Instrument ? Buz.

As a Gentleman shoo'd have , I know all , but play on none : I am no Barber .

Gent. Barber ! no sir , I thinke it ; Are you a Linguist ? Buz. As a Gentleman ought to be , one tongue serues one head ; I am no Pedler , to travell Countries . Gent. What skill ha' you in horseman-ship ? Buz. As other Gentlemen have , I ha' rid some beasts in my Time . Gent. Can you write and reade then ? Buz. As most of your Gentle-men doe , my band has bin Taken with my marke at it . Gent.

I see you are a dealer , give me thy hand , I le entertaine thee howsoeuer , because in thee I keepe halfe a score Gentlemen ; thy name .

Buz A sinius Buzardo — — Gent. I entertaine thee , good Buzardo . Buz. Thankes sir . Gent. This fellow 's a starke foole , or too wise , The triall will be with what wing he flies . Exit .

Actus secundus . Scaena prima . Enter Tibaldo sicke in his chaire , Alphonsina , Mutio , Philippo , Tornelli , Montivello . Mut. IN Lawes of courtesie , wee are bound sweete Lady , ( Being thus nigh ) to see you and your brother , Our noble friend , tho' the Duke had not sent . Alp. Thankes worthy sir . Phil. Signior Tibaldo hath desire to sleepe . Tor. Then leave him , Companie offends the sicke . Alp. Our humblest dutie to my Lord the Duke ; If in my Brothers name , and mine , you tender For this his noble love , wee both shall rest Highly indebted to you all . Mut. Sweete Madam , You shall command our lives to worke your good . Alp. Signior , your love . Omnes . All at your service Madam . Mut. A quick , and good health to your noble Brother . Alp. And all faire fortunes doubled on your selfe . Exit .

So : me-thinkes a Lady had more need have a new paire of lips , then a new paire of gloves , for tho' they were both of one skinne , yet one would weare out sooner then the other ; I thinke these Courtiers have al offices in the Spicerie , And taking my lips for sweet-meates , are as sawcie with 'em , as if they were Fees ; I wonder Tibaldo thou can'st fit still , and not come in for a share ; If old Vanni's wife had beene heere , all the parts about you had mov'd .

Tib.

Thou think'st I lie in , heere 's such a gossiping , as if 't were a Child-bed Chamber .

Alp.

So 't is , for I le sweare , all this stirre is about having a woman brought to bed ; marry I doubt it must be a mans lying in .

Tib. I would thy tongue were a man then , to lie . Alp. I had rather it were a woman , to tell trueth . Tib. Good sister Alphonsina , you still play The bad Phisicion , I am all on fire , And you to quench mee , powre on scoopes of oyle ; I feele ten thousand plummets at my heart , Yet you cry , Lay on more and are more cruell Then all my tortures . Alp. Sadnesse , I pittie thee , And will to doe thee service , venture life , Mine honour being kept spotlesse . Tib. Gentle sister , The easiest thing i th' world to begge , I crave , And the poorest Almes to give . Alp. But aske and have . Tib. A friendly counsell , loe that 's all . Alp. 'T is yours . Be rul'd by me then ; in an ashie sheete , Cover these glowing embers of defire . Tib. Embers ? I wo'd you telt em , 't is a fire — Alp. Come , and set hand to paper , I le indite . Tib. And shee 'le condemne me ; no , I will not write . Alp.

Then prethee take this Phisick ; be not the sea , to drinke strange Rivers up , yet still be drie ; Be like a noble streame , covet to runne betwixt faire bankes , which thou may'st call thine owne , and let those bankes be some faire Ladies armes , fit for thy youth , and birth .

Tib. Against your charmes , Witch , thus I stop mine eares . Alp. I le hollow them : this Deere runnes in my Lords Parke , And if you steale it , looke to have Blood-hounds scent you . Tib. Are you mad ? Alp. Yes , you shall finde venison-sawce deerer then other flesh . Tib. No , no , none else must , none shall , none can , My hunger feede but this ; downe will I dive , And fetch this Pearle , or nere come up alive — Alp.

Are all my warme cawdles come to this ? now I see th' art too farre gone , this Lady hath overspent thee therefore settle thine estate , plucke up a good heart , and I le pen thy will .

Tib. Oh fie , fie . Alp.

Bequeath thy kisses to some Taylor , that hunts out weddings every sunday ; Item , Thy sighes to a noyse of fidlers ill paid , thy palenesse to a Fencer fighting at sharpe , thy want of stomack to one of the Dukes guard .

Tib.

I begge it at thy hands , that being a woman , thou 'lt make a wonder .

Enter Cargo . Alp. What 's that ? Tib. Hold thy tongue . Alp. It 's an Instrument ever plaid on , cause well strung , Who 's that come into the Chamber there ? Oh , Mr. Cargo . Carg.

My Lord hath sent you a Iewell , lock't up in this paper , and the moisture of a goose quill , that 's to say , words in that —

Alp.

Oh sir , I thanke your Lord , and this your paines ; have him into the Buttery — let me see , Lady , that I love you , I dare sweare like a Lord ( I shall have oathes enough then ) I send you all that is mine , in hope all shall bee mine that is yours , for it stands to reason , that mine being yours , yours should bee mine , and yours being mine , mine should be yours . Love me , or I die , If I die , you kill me , If you kill me , I will say nothing , but take the blow patiently . I hold my life this Lord has bin bastinado'd , out upon him rammish foxe , he stinks hither ; Prethee good Brother reade .

Tib. I will . Reades . Alp.

Is 't Gander moneth with him ? How the devill is my maydenhead blasted ? that among such shoales of Gallants , that swim up and downe the Court , no fish bites at the baite of my poore beautie , but this tough Cods-head ?

Tib. Oh sister , peace for heavens sake ; heere lies health Even in this bitter pill ( for me ) so you Would play but my Phisician , and say , take it ; You are offered heere , to soiourne at his house : Companion with his Lady . Alp.

Sr , I have you . And I goeing vpon so weightie a businesse , as getting of children , you would ha' me pin you to my sleeve .

Tib. Most true . Alp. You care not so I turne whore to pleasure you . Tib. Oh Sister , your high worth is knowne full well Gainst base assault , a Fort Impregnable ; And therefore , as you love my life , i th' sprindge , Catch this old Wood-cocke . Alp. In the flame I 'le sindge My wings , unlesse I put the candle out , That you i' th' darke may bring your hopes about . You have wonne me . Tib. You revive me . Alp. Have a care you cast not your selfe downe too soone now . Tib. I warrant you . Alp. As for my old Huck-sters artillery , I have walls of Chastity strong enough shoote he never so hard , to keepe him From making any breach . Tib. 'T will be a noble-battaile on each side ; Yet now my spirits are rouzed , a stratageme Lies hatching heere , pray helpe me noble sister , to give it forme and life . Alp. My best . Tib. What thinke you ? ( The marke of man not yet set in my face ) If as your sister , or your kins-woman , I goe in womans habit , for thereby , Speech , free accesse , faire opportunity ; Are had without suspition . Alp. Mine be your will ; Oh me ! what paines we take to bring forth ill ! Such a disguise is safe too , since you never but once Were seene there . Tib. My wise sister ever . ( Enter Cargo ) Alp. Send in the fellow there that brought the letter ; Why how now ? doe his leggs faile him already ? A staffe for his declining age . Carg. I have a pike-staffe of mine owne already , but I could not Keep our your scurvy desperate hoggs-head from coming In upon me , I 'me cut i' th' cockscombe . Alb.

Nothing I see is so like an old-man , as a youngman drunke .

Carg. Or when he comes from a wench . Alp. Before he beare your answer let him sleep . Tib. Whil'st you laugh at what I could almost weepe . Exit . Enter Angelo , like a Doctor , Baptista , his man . Ang. Deare friend , I should both wrong my faith & fortunes ,

To make 'em thus dance Antickes ; I shall never play the dissembler .

Bapt. Then never play the Lover ; Death ! for a woman , I 'de be fleade alive , Could I but finde one constant : i' st such a matter For you then to put on a Doctours-gowne , And his flat velvet-Cap , and speake the gibbering Of an Apothecary . Ang. If thus disguis'd I 'me taken all the phisicke in the world Cannot prolong my life . Bapt. And dying for her , You venture bravely , all women o're you grave will pray that they so kinde a man may have , As to die for 'em ; say your banishment Had borne you hence , what hells of discontent , Had rack'd your soule for her as hers for you ? Should you but faint , well might you seeme untrue , Where this attempt your loyalty shall approve , Who ventures farthest winns a Ladies-love . Ang. How are my beard and haire ? Bapt. Friend I protest , So rarely counterfeit , as if a painter Should draw a Doctour : were I sicke my selfe , And met you with an urinall in my hand , I 'de cast it at your head , unlesse you cast The water for me , come , all 's passing well ; Love which makes pale the cheeks , gives you complexion , Fit for a sallow French-man . Ang. I will on then , In France I long haue liv'd , And know the Garbe Of the French-Mounte-bankes , whose apish gesture , Although in them I hold ridiculous , My selfe shall practise . Bapt. For a Doctours-man , You see I 'me fitted , foote by foote I 'le walke , and meete all dangers sent against your breast . Ang. I thanke thee noble friend ; let 's then to court . The pangs a lover suffers are but short . Exit . Enter Florence , Pisa , Nicolletto , Philippo , Tonell , Piero , met by an old Nurse . Flo. How now Nurse , how does my Fiametta ? Nurs. Oh my sweete Lord , shee s at it agen , at it agen ! Flo. Who are with her ? call for more helpe . Nurs.

More helpe ! alas there 's my Lady Vanni with her , and Ladies upon Ladies , and Doctours upon Doctours , but all cannot doe .

Pisa . How does it take her Nurse ? Nurs.

Oh sweete Princesse , it takes her all over with a pricking ; first about her stomack , and then she heaves and heaves , that no one man with all his weight , can keepe her downe .

Pier.

At this I wonder , that her sicknesse makes her Doctours fooles .

Nic. He that she findes most ease in , is Dr. Iordan . Flo. I will give halfe my Duke-dome for her health . Nic.

Well , well , If death do take her , he shall have the sweetest bed-fellow that ever lay by leane mans-side .

Flo. I entreate thee Nurse be tender over her . Nurs.

Tender quoth a ? I 'me sure my heeles are growne as hard as hoofes , with trotting for her , I 'le put you in one comfort .

Flo. What 's that Nurse ? Nurs.

In her greatest conflict sh 'as had a worthy feeling of her selfe .

Exit Flo. So , so , I 'me glad of it my Lord of Pisa . Vnder this common blow , which might have strooke the strongest heart , here pray doe not you shrinke . Pisa . Sicknes is lifes retainer , Sir , and I ( What is not to be shun'd ) beare patiently ; But had she health as sound as hath the spring , She wo'd to me prove sickly Autumne still . Flo. Oh say not so , Pis. I finde it , for being loyall , As the touch-needle to one starre still turning , I loose that starre , my faith is paid with scorning . Who then with eademque wings of faith and truth , W'ud in her sun-beames plaie away his youth , And kisse those flames , which burne but out mine eyes , With scalding rivers of her cruelties ? Flo.

'T is but her way-ward sicknes casts this eye of slightnes on you .

Pis. 'T is my Lord her hate ; For when death sits even almost on her browes , She spreads her armes abroad , to welcome him , When in my bridall-bed I finde a grave . Flo. Now Mutio ? Enter Mutio. Mut. There 's a French-man come to court , A profest Doctour , that has seen the Princesse , And will on her recovery pawne his life . Flor. Comfort from heaven , I hope , let 's see this Doctour . Enter Angelo like a Doctour , Baptista his man . Flo. Welcome good Doctour : have you seen my daughter ? Restore her health , and nothing in my Duke-dome , Shall be too deare for thee , how doe you Iudge her ? Ang. Be me trat me Lord , I finde her a very bad lady , & no well . Flo. Piero take the Duke of Pisa pray and be your sisters visi . Piero . Sir we shall , if the Duke please — ( tants . Pisa . The poysoned may drinke gall . Exit . Flo. Attend the Duke . Enter Cargo , with a letter . Caego. The party Sir . Nico. Thou shalt have Caesars pay — my Coach , Car. Old Ianuary goes to lie with May . Exit . Flo. Doctor I thus have singled you , to sound The depth of my girles sicknes , that if no skill Of man can save her , I against heavens will , May arme my breast with patience , therefore be free . Ang. By my tra' and fa'my Lor ' , me no point can play The hound , and fawne upon de most puissant Roy in de world ; A French-man beare the brave minde for dat . Flo. So , so , I like him better . Ang. Me gra tanke you , now for de maladie of de Princesse , Me one two , tre time , feele her pulse , and ron up and downe all De oder parts of her body , and finde noting but dat She be trobla with le gran desire of de man . Flo. A great desire of a man ? Ang.

A my trat 't is verament , she longa to do some ting in Love uponle gentle home .

Flo. Doctor thou hit'st her heart , 't is there shee 's wounded , By a poyson'd Arrow , shot from a villaines hand ; One Angelo of the Lotti Familie , And till that head be pluckt out , shee will pine , Vnlesse controul'd by some deepe Art of thine . Ang. All tings possibela me fall undergoe , mee ha read Gallen ,

Hipocratus , Avicen , but no point can peeke out le remedie for de Madam in de bryars of love .

Flo. No medicine you say in any of them for Love . Ang.

Ayme , trat not worth a lowse , onely in my perigrination about le grand gloabe of de world , me find out a fine trick for make a de man , and Voman doe , dat is tickla in love .

Flo. The man and the woman doe ? how doe , how doe ? Ang. To be cura , and all whole , Admirable vell . Flo. As how pray ? Ang.

Me have had under my fingera , many brave vench , and most Noble gentle Dames , dat have bee much troubla , upon de wilde vorme in de taile for de man .

Flo. Very good . Ang.

And bee my tra my Lord , by experement me finde dat de heart of de man ; you understanda me .

Flo. Yes , yes , the heart of the man . Ang. Wee wee , de heart of de man being all dry as peppera . Flo. So so . Ang.

And rub upon de ting ( vat you call it ) fall make it moulder all to crumble and dust .

Flo. Oh , oh , a Grater . Ang.

Ee by my tra you say vell , rub a de mans dry Art upon de Grater , and drinke de powder in de pot le Vine , by de Gentle-voman , and by gars-blor , she presentamently kick up de heele at de man she lova .

Flo. Excellent . Ang.

No point more remembra , but cry out le French poo upon le varlet .

Flo. So shee will hate her lover . Ang.

Be-gar , as my selfe hate le puz-cat , cry mew at my shin ; and vill have de rombling a de gut , for de other gentle home .

Flo. Thou com'st up close to me now , my brave Doctor . Ang.

Be-gar me hope so , and derfore my Lord apply le desperate Medicine , to le perilous maladie , and have dis Angelo be cut in de troate , and be man-slaughtered .

Flo. You then advise me to have Angelo slaine . Ang, Wee . Flo. And then to have my daughter drincke his heart . Ang. Wee , wee . Flo. Grated and dried , and so — Ang. Wee , wee , wee . Flo. I wo'd I grip'd it fast now in this hand , And eat it panting hot , to teach a peasant To climbe above his being , Doctor , hee dies . Ang. Knocka de pate downe be-gar . Flo. But stay , stay , hee 's fled Florence ; It will bee A worke to find him first out , and being found , A taske to kill him ; for our Gallants speake Much of his worth ; The varlet is valiant . Ang. No matera for dat ; for-two tree foure crowne , dar be Rascalls fall run him in on de backe-shide . Flor. He shall be sought for , and being found , he dies . Ang. Pray my lor' suffera le Princesse and me for be in private , Le Doctor uses for toucha doe Ooman — Flo. Doe , so , whil'st I for Angeloes death use speede , For till I have his heart , mine owne must bleede . Exit . Enter Baptista . Ang. Oh my Baptista . Bapt. I have heard the thunder aym'd at your life . Ang. And it will strike me dead , With a most soddaine and Invisible blowe . Bapt. Now that you see his vengeance apt to fall , Flie from it . Ang. How ? Bapt. By fayre , and free accesse , Open your dangers to your Mistris eyes , Where shee starke mad , so she be mad for love , You 'le bring her to her witts , if wisely now You put her into th' way ; Gold bar'd with locks , Is best being stolne ; steale her then . Ang. 'T is but a wracke at most , Oh on what boisterous Seas is True love tost ! Exeunt .

Actus Tertius . Scaena prima . Trumpets sounding . Enter an Vsher bare , perfuming a roome , Signinior Torrenti gorgeously attyred , a company of Gallants . Tor. THis Roome smells . 1. Gal. It has bin new perfum'd . Tor.

Then 't is your breeches ; stand off — and shines there ( say you ) a Sun in our horizon full as glorious , as we our selfe ?

2. Gal. So cry the common people . Tor. The common people are Rascalls , lying devills , Dung-hills , whose savor poisons brave mens fames , That Ape of greatnesse ( imitating mee ) I meane that slavish Lord Iacomo Shall die a beggar , If at the yeares end , His totall of expence dares equall mine ; How is his house built ? 1. Gal. Admirable faire . Tor. Faire ? I le guild mine ( like Pompey's Theater ) All ore to out-shine his ; the richest hangings Persian , or Turke , or Indian slaves can weave , Shall from my purse be bought at any rates ; I le pave my great hall with a floare of Clowdes , Wherein shall move an artificiall Sunne , Reflecting round about me , golden beames , Whose flames shall make the roome seeme all on fire , And when 't is night , just as that Sun goes downe , A silver Moone shall rise , drawne up by starres , And as that moves , I standing in her Orbe , Will move with her , and be that man i th' moone , So mock't in old wives tales ; then over head , A roofe of Woods , and Forests full of Deere , Trees growing downwards , full of singing quiers . And this i 'le doe that men with prayse , may crowne My fame , for turning the world upside downe : And what brave gallants are Gentilies guestes ? 1. Gal. The Lord Iacomo Gentili feeds All Beggars at his Table . Torr. Hang Iacome , My boarde shal be no manger for poore jades To lick up provinder in . 2. Gal. He welcomes souldiers . Tor. Let souldiors beg and starue , or steale and hange . Wo'd I had heere ten-thousand Souldiors heads , Their sculs set all in silver , to drinck healthes To his confusion , first invented warre , And the health drunck to drowne the bowles i' th Sea , That very name of Souldior , makes me shrugg , And thinck I crawle with vermin ; give me Lutes , Mischiefe on drumms , for souldiors ; fetch me whores , These are mens blisse ; those every Kingdomes soares , Wee gave in charge to search through all the world For the best Cookes , rarest musitians , And fairest girles , that will sell sinne for gold . 1. Gal. Some of all sorts you have Tor. Let me have more Then the grand Signior , And my change as rare , Tall , low , and middle size , the browne , and faire ; I de give a Princes ransome now to kisse Blacke Cleopatra's cheeke ; Onely to drinke A richer perle , then that of Anthonyes , That Fame ( where his name stands ) might put downe mine . Oh that my Mother had bin Paris Whore , And I had liv'd to see a Troy on fire , So that by that brave light , I might have danc'd But one Lavalto with my Curtezan . Enter fourth Gallant . 4. Gal. Patterne of all perfection breath'd in man , There 's one without , before your Excellence Desires accesse . Tor. What creature ? 4. Gal. Your owne brother , At least hee termes himselfe so . Tor. Is he brave ? 4. Gal. Hee 's new come from Sea . Tor. 'T is true , that Iason Rig'd out a Fleete to fetch the Golden-Fleece ; 'T is a brave boy , all Elementall fire , His shipps are great with Child of Turkish Treasure , And heere shall be delivered ; marshall him in Like the seas proud commander give our charge — Omnes . Sound drums , and trumpets , for my Lord away . Vsher him in Pare and ragged . At which Torrenti starts , his hat falls off , Offer it him . Torr. Thou whorson pesant , know me , burne that wind-fall , It comes not to my head that drops so low , — Another 1. Gall. Hatts for my Lord , — Hatt's brought in 3. or 4. Torr. It smells of earth , stood it againe so high , My head would on a dung-hill seeme to lie . How now ? what scar-crow 's this ? Broth. Scar-crow ? thy brother , His bloud cleare as thine owne , but that it smoakes not , With perfum'd fiers as thine doth . Torr. Has the poore snake , a sting ; can he hisse ? What beggs the rogue for ? Broth. Vengeance From the just thunderer to throw Lucifer downe ; How high so ever thou rearest thy Babell-browes , To thy confusion I this language speake : I am thy fathers sonne . Torr. Ha , ha , the Skipper raves . Broth. The aw'd Venetian on St. Markes proud-day , Never went forth to marry the rich-sea , With casting in her lapp a ring of gold ; In greater bravery then my selfe did freight , A fleete of gallant youthfull Florentines , All vow'd to rescew Rhodes , from Turkish-slavery : We went and waded up in our owne bloods , Till most of us were drown'd . Torr. Faire riddance on you . Broth. Where such a Peacock durst not spread his plumes ; We fought and those that fell left Monuments Of unmatch't valour to the whole race of man , They that were ta'ne , ( mongst whom my selfe was chiefe ) Were three yeeres chain'd up to the tugging o're , See here the relicts of that misery , Chaines , If thou wu'd'st know more , reade it on my backe , Printed with the Bulls-peezele . Torr. Hang the dogge . What tellest thou me of Peezeles ? Broth. 'T is thy brother tells thee so , note me . Torr. I know thee not ; Set mastives on him , worry him from my gates . Broth. The first unhappy breath I drew , mov'd heere , And here I 'le spend my last , e're brav'd from hence , Heere I 'le have meate and cloaths . Torr. Kick the curre out . Bro. Who dares ? Take from that sumpter-horses backe of thine , Some of those gaudie trappings to cloathe mine , And keepe it from the keene aire , fetch me food , You fawning spaniells 1. Gall. Some spirit of the buttery . 2. Gall. It should be by his hunger . Broth. I am starv'd , Thirsty , and pinde to th' bare bones , heere ; I 'le eate at thine Owne scorneful board , on thine owne meate , or teare it from Thy throate as 't is chewing downe . Torr. I 'le try that ; if my dinner be prepared , Serue me in my great state along'st this way , And as you passe two there with pistolls stand . To kill that ravenous Vulture ; if he dare thrust his tallents Forth to make one dish his prey . ( Exeunt all . Broth. Now view my face , and tho perhaps you shamd To owne so poore a brother , let not my heart-strings , In sunder cracke , if we now being lone , You still disdaine me . Torr. Wretch I know thee not , And loath thy sight . Broth. Slave , thou shalt know me then ; I 'le beate thy braines out with my Gally-chaine . Torr. Wilt murther thine owne brother ? Broth. Pride doth it selfe confound , What with both hands the Devill strove to have bound , Heaven with one little finger hath untyed , This proves that thou maiest fall , because one blast Shakes thee already , feare not , I 'le not take The whip out of your hand and tho' thou break'st Lawes of humanitie , and brother-hood ; I 'le not doe soe , but as a begger should ( Not as a brother ) knock I at the gate Of thy hard heart for pitty to come forth , And looke upon my wretchednes , A shot Kneeles . Toore to the keele that gally where I row'd ; Sunke her , the men slaine , I by dyving scaped , And sat three leagues upon a broken-mast , Wash't with the salt teares of the Sea , which wept , In pitty , to behold my misery . Torr. Pox on your , tarry misery . Broth. And when heavens blest-hand hal'de me to a shoore To dry my wet-limbes , was I forc'd to fire , A dead-mans straw-bed throwne into the streete . Torr. Foh , th' art infectious . Broth. Oh remember this ! He that does good deeds , here waits at a Table , Where Angells are his fellow servitours . Torr. I am no Robbin-red-breast to bring strawes To cover such a coarse . Broth. Thou art turn'd devill , Kizes . Trumpets sound . Enter an arm'd sewer , after him a company with covered dishes : Coronets on their heads . Two With pistolls to guard it . Torr. Where 's thy great stomack , eat , stand , let him choose What dish he likes . — snatches a pistoll : ill flye off . Broth. This then which I 'le carve up On thy base bosome , see thou Tryviall foole , Thou art a Tyrant ( o're me ) of short reigne , This cock out crow's thee , and thy petty kings , Th' art a proud-bird , but fliest with rotten wings ; To shew how little for thy scorne I care , See my revenge turn's all to idle-aire , Shootes up . It upward flies and will from thence I feare Shoote darts of lightning to confound thee heere . Farewell thou huge Leviathan , when th' ast drunk dry , That Sea thou rowl'st in , on some base shore dye . Enter Gallants all drawne . Omnes . Where is the Traitor ? Tor. Now the house is fiered , Torr. You come to cast on waters ; barre up my doores , But one such tattered ensigne here being spread , Drawes numbers hither , here must no rogues be fed ; Command my carpenters invent od engines . To manacle base beggers , hands and feete , And by my name call 'em my whipping posts ; If you spye any man that has a looke , Stigmatically drawne , like to a furies , ( Able to fright ) to such I 'le give large pay , To watch and ward for poore snakes night and day , And whip 'em soundly if they approch my gates ; The poore are but the earths-dung fit to lie Cover'd on much-heapes not to offend the eye . Enter 1. Gall . 1. Gall. Two Gentlemen sent from the Florence Duke , Require speech with your Lord-ship — Torr. Give 'm entrance Enter Mutio , Philippe , What re you ? and whence come you ? Mut. From the Duke . Tor. Your businesse ? Mut. This , fame sounding forth your worth For hospitable princely house-keeping ; Our Duke drawne by the wonder of report , Invites himselfe ( by us ) to be your guest . Tor. The honour of Embassadors be yours ; Say to the Duke that Caesar never came ; More welcome to the Capitoll of Rome , Then he to us — healthes to him — fill rich wines . Mut. You have this wonder wrought , now rare to men ; By you they have found the golden age agen . Tor. Which I 'le uphold , so long as there 's a sunne , To play the Alchymist . Phil. This proud fellow talkes As if he grasped the Indies in each hand . Torr. Health to your Duke . Amb. We pledge it on our knees . Tor. I 'le stand to what I do , but kneele to none . Musicke , drinck , breake the glasse , they pledge it in plate , Which offering , both servitours refuse to take . Tor. Breake not our custome ( pray ye ) with one beame ; The god of mettailes makes both gold and wine To Imitate whose greatnesse ; If on you I can bestow Wine , I can give gold too , Take them as free as Bacohus spends his blood ; And in them drinke our health . Mut. Your bounty farre Exceeds that of our Caesars . Tor. Caesar ero , vel nihil ero : What are Gold heapes ? but a rich dust for Kings To scatter with their breath , as chaffe by winde ? Let him then that hath gold , beare a Kings minde , And give till his arme akes , who bravely powres But into a wenches lap his golden showres , May be Ioves equall , oh but hee that spends A world of wealth , makes a whole world his debter , And such a Noble spender is Ioves better ; That man I le be , I 'me Alexanders heire To one part of his minde , I wish there were Ten Worlds , yet not to conquer , but to sell . For Alpine hills of silver , And that I . Might at one feast , spend all that treasure drie ; Who hoards up wealth , is base ; who spends it , brave , Earth breeds gold , so I tread but on my slave ; Beare backe our gratulations to your Duke . Exit . Amb. Wee shall great sir . Mut. Torrenti call you him ; 't is a prowd rough streame . Phil. Hee 's of the Romane Family indeede . Mut. Lord Vanni ? rather my Lord Vanitie . Phil. And heapes of money sure have strucke him mad . Mut. Hee 'le soone pick up his witts , let him but bleede Thus many ownces at one time ; All day Could I drinke these deare healthes , yet nere be drunke . Phil. And carry it away most cleanely . Mut. Not a pin the worse ; What might his father leave him ? Phil. A great estate , Of some 300000 Crownes a yeare . Mut. Strange hee 's not begg'd , for fooles are now growne An admirable Cocks-combe ! ( deare ; Phi. Let wonder passe , Hee 's both a brave-Lord , and a golden Asse . Exit . A Bed discovered , Eyametta upon it . Enter two Dukes , Piero , Gallants , Nurse , Ladies , Angelo , Baptista , ut antea Fyametta . Ang.

I pray you hush all , a little hush , le faire Lady by hee owne vo unter disposition , has take a ting dat is of such a grand operation , it shall make a de stone for slepe .

Flo. What , Noble Doctor , is the name of it ? Ang.

T is not your scurvie English Poppy , nor Mandragon , nor a ting so danger as Oppium , but t is de brave ting a de vorld , for knock a de braine asleepe .

Pisa . I am glad shee takes this rest . Ang.

Peace , be gor it is snore and snore , two mile long ; now if your grace vill please for procure Musick , be restore as brave as de fish .

Flo. Call for the Musicke . Ang. Makea no noise , but bring in de Fidlers , and play sweet — Nico.

Oh out upon this Doctor ; hang him , does he thinke to cure dejected Ladies with Fidlers —

Ang.

De grand French poo stopa de troate , pray void le Shambera .

Flo. All , all part softly ; peace Nurse , let her sleepe . Nurs.

I , I , go out of her prospect , for shee 's not to bee cur'd with a song .

Exit . Ang. Baptista , see the doore fast , watch that narrowly . Bapt.

For one friend to keepe doore for another , is the office now amongst gallants , common as the Law ; I le bee your porter Sir .

Ang. Shee does but slumber , Fiametta , Love . Fia. The Pisan Prince comes : daggers at my heart . Ang. Looke up , I am not hee , but Angelo ? Fia. Ha! who names Angelo ? Ang. Angelo himselfe , Who with one soote treads on the throat of death , Whilst t'other stepps to embrace thee , thus i th' shape Of a French Doctor . Fya. Oh my life , my soule . Ang. Heare me . Fya. I me now not sicke , I le have no Phisicke , But what thy selfe shall give mee . Ang. Let not Ioy confound our happinesse , I am but dead , If it be knowne I am heere . Fya. Thou shalt not hence . Ang. Be wise deare heart ; see here the best of men , Faithfull Baptista — — — Fya. Oh , I love Baptista , Cause he loves thee ; But my Angelo I love bove kings . Bapt. Madam you 'le spoile , Vnlesse you joyne with us in the safe plot Of our escape . Ang. Sweete Fyametta heare me . For you shall hence with us . Fya. Over ten worlds , But I le not hence ; my Angelo shall not hence , True love , like gold , is best being tried in fire ; I le defie Father , and a thousand deaths — for thee — — Ang. Vndone , vndone . Knock within . Bapt. At the Court gate , I see a Iebbit already , to hang 's both ; Death ! the Duke beates at the doore . Fya. He shall come in ; Enter Omnes . One frowne at thee , my Tragedie shall begin ; See Father — Flo. I told you that I heard — her tongue — Fya. See Father . Flo. What sweete girle ? Fya. That 's Angelo , and you shall pardon him . Flo. With all my heart . Fya. Hee sayes hee pardons thee with all his heart . Ang.

Mee Lor , be all mad , le braine crowe , and run whirabout like de windmill saile , pardon a moy , por quoy my sweete Madam , pardon your povera Doctor .

Fya. Because thou art my banish't Angelo . Flo. Starke mad . Pisa . This her recoverie ? Fya. Hee is no Doctor , Nor that his man , but his deare friend Baptista ; Has black't this beard like a Comoedian To play the Mountibanke ; away , I le marry None but that Doctor , and leave Angelo . Ang. I doe pray Artely , Madam . Fya. Leave off thy gibberishe , and I prethee speake Thy Native language . Ang. Par-ma-soy all French be-gor shee be mad as the moone . Flo. Sweet girle , with gentle hands sir , take her hence . Fya. Stand from mee , I must follow Angelo . Pisa . Thine eyes drinke sleepe from the sweet god of rest . Fya. Oh , you shoote poyson'd arrowes thorow my breast . Manent Florence , Angelo , Baptista . Flo. What strange new furie now possesseth her ? Ang.

Begar her imaginashon be out a de vitts , and so dazell de two nyes , and come downe so into de bellie , and possibla for make her tinke mee or you to be le shentle-man shee lovea , and so shee takea my man for a Iack-a-nape , mee know not who .

Bapt. For one Baptista . Ang. Povera garshon a my trat . Flo. I doe beleeve you both , but honest Doctor , Straine all thy Art , and so thou leave her well , I care not if you call up feinds from hell . Ang.

Dar be too much devill in de body all ready be my trat my Lor , mee no stay heere for ten hundred hundred Coronaes , she cry upon mee 't is Master Angelo , you tink so not one and two time , but a tyrd time , you smell a me out ; And so cutta my troate ; adue my Lor .

Flo. Still your opinion holds to kill that villaine , And give her his heart dried . Ang. In de pot a vine , wee , very fine . Flo. This gold take for thy paines to make her sownde , There needs a desperate cure to a desperate wounde . Exit . Ang. How blowes it now ? Bapt. Faire , with a prosperous gale . Ang. Poore love , thou still art strucke with thine owne fate ; My life hangs at a thred , friend I must flie . Bapt. How , to be safe ? Ang. I will take sanctuary , I know a reverend Fryar , in whose cell I le lurke till stormes blow ore ; If women knew What men feele for them , None their scornes should rue . Enter Tibaldo in Womans attire , Alphonsina . Alph.

Is 't come to this , have the walls of the Castle beene besieged thus long , lien open for a breach ; and dare you not

Give fier to once piece ? oh y' ar a proper soldyor , good Sister , brother follow your game more close , or i 'le leave you . Tib. What wu'd you have me doe ? Alp.

Why I would ha' you ( tho' you be in womans apparrell ) to be your selfe a man , and do what you come for .

Tib. I have bin giving her a thousand on setts , And still a blushing cheeke makes me retire ; I speake not three words , but my tongue is ready To aske forgivenes of her . Alp.

Must thou needs at thy first encounter tell her thou art a man , why when you walke together , cannot you begin a tale to her , with once upon a time there was a loving couple that having tyred themselves with walking , sat downe upon a banck , and kist , and embraced , and plaid , and so by degrees bring the tale about to your owne purpose . Can you not ? fie , you are the worst at these things Sir .

Tib. I am sister indeed . Alp.

And the more foole you indeed : you see how the old stinking fox her husband is stil rubbing me as if I had the palsy , I le not have his wither'd hands ( which are as moist as the side of stock-fish ) lye pidling in my bosome , therefore determine some thing , or farewell .

Tib. I have deare sister , if you will but heare me . Alp. Come on , out with 't then . Tib. Give you the old man promise of your love , And the next night appoint him for your bed ; Rap'd with joy , he 'le feigne businesse of state , To leave his lady , and to lie alone , Alp. Very good . Tib. Then my request shall be , that for that night She would accept me for her bed-fellow , And there 's no question sister of the grant , Which being Injoy'd I doubt not but to manage And carry all so even on levill ground , That my offence shall in my love seeme drownde . Alp.

The clocke for your businesse thus far goes true , but now for me , what shall I do with the old cock in my Roost ?

Tib. Sister , you have some tricke ( no doubt ) to keepe Him within compasse . Alp.

No not I beleeve me , I know not what to doe with him , unlesse I should give him a little Nux vomica , to make him sleep away the night , but brother , to pleasure you , I le venter a joynte , and yet it troubles me too , that I should prove a Traytor to my sex , I doe betray an Innocent Lady , to what ill I know not .

But Love the author of it wil I hope Turne it quite otherwise , and perhaps it may be So welcome to her as a courtesie . Tib. I doubt not but it shall . Alp. We nothing can , Vnlesse man woman helpe , and woman man . Exeunt .

Actus quartus . Scaena prima . Trumpets sounding . Enter Torrenti very brave , betweene the two Dukes , attended by all the Courtiers , wondring at his costly habit . Enter a mask , woman in strang habitts , Danee . Exit . He gives jewells , and ropes of pearle to the Duke ; and a chaine of gold to every Courtier . Exit . Nicholetto and he stay . Tor. THou art my noble kinsman , and but thy mother ( Vpon my soule ) was chast I should beleeve Some Emperor begot thee , Tor. Why pray Vncle ? Nico. Suppose all kingdomes on the earth were balls , And that thou held'st a racket in thy hand , To tosse 'em as thou wu'd'st , how wo'dst thou play ? Tor. Why ? as with balls , bandy 'em quite away . Nico. A tennes-court of kings could do no more ; But faith what doest thou thinke , that I now think , Of thy this days expence ? Torr. That it was brave . Nico. I thinke thee a proud vaine-glorious bragging knaue , That golden wombe thy father left so full , thou Vulture-like eat'st thorough : oh heere s trimstuffe ; A good-mans state , in Gartyres , strings and ruffe ; Hast not a saffron shirt on too ? I feare th' art Troubled with the greene-sicknes , thou look'st wan . Tor. With anger at thy snarling must my hoase Match your old greasy cod-piece ? Nico. No , but I 'de have thee live in compasse . Tor. Foole , I 'le be As the sun in the Zodiack ; I am he That wood take Phaetons fall , tho' I set fire On the whole world to be heavens charioteire , ( As he was ) but one day . Nico. Vaine riotous cockscombe , Tha 'st fier'd to much already , Parkes , Forrests , chases , Have no part left of them , but names and places ; 'T is voic'd abroad thy lands are all at pawne . Tor. They are , what then ? Nico. And that the mony went to Entertaine the Popes great Nuntio , On whom you spent the ransome of a king . Tor. You lye . Nico. I thanke you Sr , Tor. Say all this true That I spent millions , what 's that to you . Were there for every day i' th' yeare a Pope , For every houre i' th' yeare a Cardinall ; I 'd melt both Indies , but I 'de feast 'em all . Nico. And leave your Curtezans bare , that leaving bare , Will one day leave thee naked , one nights waking , With a fresh-whore , cost thee 4000. duckets , Else the bawd lies . Tor. Wert thou not mine uncle I 'de send thee with thy frozen-beard where furies Should sindge it off with fire-brands , touching Wenching , that art thy selfe an old rotten whore-master . Nico. I a whore-master ? To shew how much I hate it , harke , when next thy tomblers Come to dance upon the ropes , Play this jigg to 'em . Tor. Goe , goe , idle droane , Thou enviest bees with stings , because thine is gone , Plate , jewells , revenues all shall flie . Nico. They shall . Tor. And then Sir I 'le turne pickled theefe , a Pirate , For as I to feed Rayot , a world did crave , So nothing but the sea shall be my grave , Meane time that circle few began l 've runne , tho' the Devill stand i' th' Center . Nico. What 's that circle ? Torr. The vanitie of all man-kinde be mine , In me all prodigalls loosenes fresh shall flowe , Wine , harlots , surfetts , rich embroidered cloaths , Fashions , all sensuall sins , all new coin'd oathes , Shall feed me , fill me ; I le feast every sence , Nought shall become me ill , but innocence . Exit . Nico. I hope a wallet hanging at thy backe , Who spends all young , ere age comes , all will lacke . Exit . Enter an Apothecary give a serving-man gold , Iacomo , Servants in blew-coats : Stew. Broker , Goldsmith , Torrenti's Brother , a Trumpet . Gent. What sounds this trumpet for ? Omnes . Dinner my Lord , Gent. To feast whome this day are my tables spread ? St. For sea-men , wrack't , aged , or sicke , or lame , And the late ransom'd captives from the Turke . Gent. Cheere them with harty welcomes in my name , Attend them as great Lords , let no man dare , To send 'em sad hence , bounty shall be plac'd At the boards upper end ; For Marriners Are clocks of danger that do ne're stand still , Their dialls-hand ere points to 'th stroke of death , And ( albeit seldome windlesse ) loose their breath ; I love 'em , for they eat the dearest bread , That life can buy , when the elements make warrs ; Water and aire , they are sayd by their good starrs . And for the gally-slaves , make much of those , love that man Who suffers onely for being christian ; What suiters waite ? St. Come neere , one at once , keep back pray . Bro. A sorry man , a very sorry man . Gen. What makes thee sorry ? Brok.

All I had is burnt , and that which touches me to the quick , a boxe of my sweete evidence my Lord .

Gent. Show me some proofe of this . Brok. Alas too good proofe , all burnt , nor stick , nor stone , left . Gent. What wodst have me doe ? Brok. Bestow but a bare 100. l. on me , to set me up . Gent. Steward deliver him a 100. l. Brok. Now all the — Gent. Nay kneele not Sir , but heare me . Brok. Oh my hony Lord ! Gent. Faces are speaking pictures , thine 's a booke , Which if the leafe be truly printed shews A page of close dissembling . Brok. Oh my Lord ! Gent. But say thou art such , yet the monie 's thine , Which I to Charitie give , not to her shrine ; If thou cheat'st me , thou art cheated ? how ? th' hast got ( Being licorish ) rats-bane from a gally-pot , Taking it for sugar ; thou art now my debtor , I am not hurt , nor thou I feare , much better ; farewell . Enter lame legg'd Souldier . Soul . Cannons defend me , Gun-powder of hell , Whom doest thou blow up heere ? Break. Some honest scullar , row this lame dog to hanging . Gent. What noise is that ? Stew. My Lord calls to you . Soul . Was there ever call'd A devill by name from hell ? then this is one . Gent. My friend , what is hee ? Soul . A Citie pestilence , A moath that eates up gownes , doublets and hose , One that with Bills , leades smocks and shirts together To linnen close adultery , and upon them Strowes lavender , so strongly , that the owners Dare never smell them after ; hee 's a broaker . Gent. Suppose all this , what hurt hath hee done thee ? Soul . More then my limbs losse ; in one weeke he eate My wife up , and three children , this christian Iew did ; Ha's a long lane of hellish Tenements , Built all with pawnes . Gen. All that he had is burnt . Soul . He keepes a whore indeede , this is the Raven , Cryed knocke before you call , he may be fir'd , His lowsie wardropes are not ; to this hell-hound I pawn'd my weapons to buy browne bread To seede my brats and me ; ( they forfited ) Twice so much as his money him I gave , To have my Armes redeem'd , the griping slave Swore ( not to save my soule ) vnlesse that I Laid downe my stumpe heere , for the Interest , And so hop home . Gent. Vnheard of villain ! Broker , is this true ? Brok. 'T were sinne my Lord , to lie . Gent. Souldier , what is 't thou now crau'st at my hands ? Soul . This my Pitition was , which now I teare , My suite here was , When the next place did fall , To be a Beades-man in your Hospitall : But now I come most pitiously complaining Against this three-pile rascall , widowes decayer , The Orphans beggerer , and the poores betrayer ; Give him the Russian law for all these sinnes . Gent. How ? Soul . But one hundred blowes on his bare shins Br. Come home and take thine Arms . So. I le have those leggs Gent. Broaker , my soule foresaw goods thus ill got , Would as ill thrive , you ask'd a hundred pound , 'T is yours ; but crafty Broaker , you plaid the knave To begg , not needing . This man now must have His request too , 't is honest , faire , and just , Take hence that varlet therefore , and on his shinnes , In ready payment , give him an hundred blowes . Rroak. My Lord , my pitifull Lord . Soul . I must bestirre my stumps too . Iustice ; my Lord . Gent. I will not ravill out time ; Broaker , I offer you A hundred for a hundred . Soul . That 's his owne usury . Gent. A hundred pound , or else a hundred blowes , Give him that money , he shall release you those . Brok. Take it , and may'st thou rot with 't . Exit . Soul . Follow thee thy curse , Wo'd blowes might make all Broakers still disburse . Gent. What next ? Serv. The Party sir : Gent. What party sir ? If honest , speake , I love no whisperer . Serv. This Gentleman is a great shuter . Gent. In a Long-bow ? how farre shootes hee ? Serv. To your Lordship , to be your Apothecary . Gent. Vmph ; what spie you in my face , that I sho'd buy Your druggs and drenches ? beares not my cheeke a colour As fresh as any old mans ? doe my bones Ake with youth's ryotts ? or my blood boile hot With feavers ? or is 't num'd with dropsies , cold Coughes , Rhumes , Catarrhes , Gowts , Apoplexie fits ? The common soares of age , on me never ran , Nor Galenist , nor Paracelsian , Shall ere reade Phisicall Lecture upon me . Apot. Two excellent fellowes my Lord . Gent. I honour their profession , What the Creator does , they in part doe , For a Phisician 's a man-maker too , — but honest friend , My kitchin is my Doctor , and my Garden , Trustie Apothecarie ; when they give me pills , So gently worke they , I 'me not choak'd with bills , Which Are a stronger purge then the disease . Apo. Alas my Lord , and 't were not for bills , our shops wo'd Gent. Sir , I beleeve you , bills nor pills I le take ; ( downe . I stand on sicknes shoare , and see men tost From one disease to another , at last lost ; But to such seas of surfetts , where they 're drown'd , I never ventering , am ever sound . Apo.

Ever sound my Lord ? if all our gallants sho'd bee so , Doctors , Pothecaries , and Barber-surgeons , might feed upon Onyons and Butter-milke ; ever sound ! a brave world then .

Gent. 'T is their owne fault , if they feare springs or falls , Wine-glasses fill'd too fast , make urynalls ; Man was at first borne sound , and hee growes ill Seldome by course of nature , but by will — Distempers are not ours , there should be then ( Were wee our selues ) no Phisicke , men to men Are both diseases cause , and the disease , I 'me free from ( thankes good fate ) either of these . Apo. My 50. Crownes . Ser. Not I . Apo. No , must I give you a Glister ? Ser. Hist , hist. Apo.

If your Lordship will not allow me minister to your selfe , pray let me give your man a purgation .

Ser. Me a Purgation ? my Lord , I 'me passing well . Gent. Him a Purge , why ? Apo. Or rather a vomit , that hee may cast up 50 Crownes — Which he swallowed as a Bribe to preferre me . Gent. My health is bought and sold sir then by you , A Doctor baits you next , whose mesh of potions Striking me full of vlcers , a gibberish Surgion , For 50. Crownes more , comes to drawe my will , For mony , slaves their Soveraignes thus kill ; Nay , nay , so got , so keepe it ; for his Fifty , Give him a 100. Crownes , because his will Aym'd at my health I know , and not at ill : Fare you well sir . Apo. Who payes mee sir ? Ser. Follow me , I sir . Exit Sar. & Apothe. Enter Gold-smith . Gold . The fellow , my Lord , is fast . Gent. What fellow sir ? Gold . The thiefe that stole this Iewell from your honour , Hee came unto my stall my Lord . Gent. So . Gold . And ask'd mee Not the fourth part in money it was worth , And so smelling him out . Gent. You did . Golds. I did sir , Smell him out presently , and under hand Sent for a Constable , examined him , And finding that he is your Stewards man , Committed him to th' Iale . Gent. What money had hee upon this Iewell of you ? Golds. None my good Lord , after I heard it yours . Gent. Else you had bought it , And beene the thiefes receiver , y' ar a varlet , Go to , a sawcie knave ; if I want money ; And send my servants servant ( cause the world Shall not take notice of it ) to pawne , or sell Iewells , or Plate , tho' I loose halfe in halfe , Must you sir , play the Marshall , and commit him , As if he were a rogue ; goe and release him , Send him home presently , and pay his fees , doe you see sir . Gold . My Lord , I do see . Gent. Least by the Innocent fellow , I lay you fast by th' heeles , doe this y' are best ; You may be gone . Gold . Heere 's a most excellent jeast . Exit . Enter Steward . Gent. Harke you , the Duke of Florence sent me once A Iewell , have ye'it ? For you laid it up . Ste. My Lord , I have it . Gent. Are you sure you have it ? Why change you colour ? Know you this ? doe you know Your man , you sent to sell it ? You belike Thought in my memory it had beene dead , And so your honesty too came buried , 'T is well , out of mine eye ; what wo'd you with mee ? Enter Brother , to Torrenti . Broth. Your pitty on a wretch late wrackt at sea , Beaten a shore by penury , 3 . yeares a Turkish Gally-slave . Gent. Your birth ? Broth. Such Sir , As I dare write my selfe a gentlema , In Florence stood my cradle , my house great , In mony , not in mercy ; I am poore , And dare not with the begger passe their doore . Gent. Name them , they shal be forc't to thy reliefe . To steale compassion from them like a thiefe , Good my Lord pardon me , under your noble wing , I had rather sit , then on the highest tree sing , That shadowes their gay buildings . Gent. Young man I doe commend thee , where 's my steward ? Give me thy hand , I entertaine thee mine , Make perfect your accounts , and see the books deliver'd To this Gentleman . St. This poore rogue Sir ? Gent. Thou art a villaine , so to tearme the man , Whom I to liking take ; Sir I discharge you ; I regard no mans out-side , 't is the lineings Which I take care for , St. Not if you knew how louzie they were . Gent. Cast not thy scorne upon him , prove thou but just , I le raise the Cedars spring out first from dust . Exit . Enter Nicolletto , Dariene , Alphons , Alisandra , Tibaldo , Cargo . Nie. Madam this night I have received from court , A booke of deepe import , which I must reade , And for that purpose will I he alone . Dar. Be Mr. of your owne content my Lord . I le change you for some femall bed-fellow . Nic. With all my heart . Tib. Pray madam then take me . Nic. Doe prethee wife . Dar. And Sr. she is most welcome . Nic. Wo'ld I were at it , for it is a booke , My fingers itch till I be turning o're ; Good rest faire Alphonsina you 'le not faile . Alp. No , feare me not . Nic. All all to bed , to bed . Alp. Mine eyes are full of sleepe ; I le follow you . Exit . Dar. I to my closet , and then bed-fellow Expect your company Tibal. I will be for your Lady . Aless. Madam so please you forfeit to my mother , And let your selfe and I be bed-fellowes . Tib. Deare heart I humbly thanke you , but I must not . Aless. Lady I rather wish your company , Because I know one maiden best conceales , What 's bosom'd in another : but I le waite With patience a time fitting . Tib. Worthy Lady , This time is yours and mine . Aless. Thus I begin then , And if I cannot woe reliefe from you , Let me at least win pitty , I have fixt Mine eye upon your brother ; whom I never But once beheld here in this house yet wish That he beheld me now and heard me ; You are so like your brother , that me thinkes I speake to him , And that provokes a blush to assaile my cheeke ; He smiles like you , his eyes like you ; pray Lady Where is the gentleman ? 't was for his sake

I would have lien with you , wo'd it were as lawfull to fellow nights with him .

Tib. Troth I do wish it . Aless. And if in this you inrich me with your counsell , I le Be a gratefull taker . Tib. Sure my brother Is blest in your affection , and shall have Good time to understand so . Dar. Alesandra within . Aless. Madam . Dar. A word , come quickly . Exit . Tib.

O ye heavens ! how strangely one houre works upon an other . It was but now heart-sick , and long'd for meat ,

Which being set before me I abhorre . Alp. Brother . Enter Alphonsina . Tib. What frights you thus from your chamber ? Alp. Such a fury as thou . Tib. How now ? hast lost thy witts ? Alp. I le sweare thou hast , for thou hast candled Thy sweete but poysonous language to dishonour Me thy most wretched sister , who no better then a vile Instrument to thy desires , deserves to be stil'd , Baud , worse then the bauds . Who every day i' th' weeke shake hands with hell . Tib. Ha' patience dearest sister ; I protest , By all the graces that become a man , I have not wrong'd Dariene nor her Lord . Alp. Thou shalt not then by heaven . Tib. By all goodnes , not With a well blush discourse faire Alissandra Supposing me your sister hath discover'd The true pangs of her fancy towards Tibaldo , And in it crav'd my aide , which heard , Even then , My Brutish purpose broke its neck , and I Will proue the daughters husband , that came hither , A traytour to the Mother . Alp. My noble brother , Our doings are alike , for by Trebatio ( Whome I with honour name ) his fathers foulenes shall be Cut off and crost . Tib. Get to your chamber ; No longer will I play the womans part , This night shall change my habit with my heart . Exit . Enter Nicoletti with a light . Nichol.

In this chamber she lies , and that 's her window wo'd I were in : the aire bites , but the bit that I shall bite anon sharpens . my stomack , the watch-word is a cornet , ( Cornet within ) it speakes , she bids me come without a light , and reason sheds light enough herselfe ; wincke thou one-eyed baud , be thou an embleme of thy Mr. and burne in secret .

Enter Alphonsina , above . Alp. My Lord . Nic. What sayes my most moist-handed sweete Lady . Alp. Who is there with you ? Nico. No christian creature , I enter solus . Alp. I feare I must entreate you to stay a little . Nic. As long as thou desir'st , but-wilt come downe ? Alp. I would be loth to loose all upon rest , Nic. Shall I mount then ? Alp. For mine honour being once crack't . Nic. Crack a pudding : I le not meddle with thine honour . Alp. Say you should get me with childe . Nic. I hope I am not the first Lord has got a lady with childe . Alp. Is the night hush't ? Nic.

Ther 's nothing stirring , the very mice are a sleepe , as I am noble , I le deale with thee like a gentleman .

Alp.

I le doe that then , which some Citizens will not doe , to some Lord .

Nico. What 's that ? Alp. Take your word , I come . Nico. Vd's my life ! Alp. What 's the matter sir ? Musicke within . Nico. I heare a lute , and sure it comes this way . Alp.

My most lov'd Lord , step you aside , I would not have you seene for the saving of my right hand , preserve mine honour , as I preserve your love .

Enter Trebatio with Musicke . Nico. Pox on your Catts guts . Alp. To an unworthy window , who is thus kind ? Treb. Looke out of it , and 't is th e-richest casement That ever let in Ayre . Alp. Trebatio . Treb. I , my most faire Mistris . Alp. Neither of both good sir ; Pray play upon some other , you abuse mee , And that which seemes worse , in your fathers house . Nico. Brave girle . Alp. But you are young enough to be forgiven , If you will mend hereafter , the night has in it Vnwholsome foggs , and blasts ; to bed my Lord , Least they attach your beautie : nothing more , I le pay you for your song . Exit . Treb. Are you gone so ? Well , you hard-hearted one , you shall not ever Be Lady of your selfe — away . Exit . Enter Cargo running . Car.

Oh my Lord , I have stood Centinell as you bad me , but I am frighted .

Nico. With what ? Carg. The Night-mare rides you , my Lady is conjured up . Nic. Now the devill lay her down , prevented in the very Act . Carg. She workes by magick , and knowes all . Enter Dariene . Dari. Doe you shrinke backe my Lord ? you may with shame ; Have I tane you napping my Lord ? Nico. But not with the manner my Lady . Dar.

Have you no bird to flie at , but what sits on your owne sonnes fiste ?

Nicho. How ! my sonnes fiste ? ( Harlot Darie. Yes , the Lady whom you wrought to have bin your Your sonne has long since wonne to be his bride , Both they and I have this night exercis'd Our witts to mocke your dotage . Nico. Am I then gull'd ? Dare.

Yes my Lord , and bull'd too , yonder s Tibaldo Neri come this morning .

Dare. So early , Is his sister with him ? Car.

Not that I saw , but I saw him kisse my yong Mistris , three or foure times , I thinke 't were good to aske the banes of Matrimony .

Nico.

Wo't t were no worse , let 's in , and give 'em the mornings Salutation .

Dare. I le tell him all . Nicho. Sweete Lady , seal my pardon with a kisse , He ne're was borne , that never did amisse . Exeunt .

Actus quintus . Scaena prima . Enter Florence , Piero , Pisa , Mutio , Tornelli , Philippe . Pier. SIr , I have found Angelo with long and busie search . Flo. And will he come ? Pier. Your honour ( as you charg'd me ) I impawn'd For his safe passage . Flo. By my life hee shall ; when will hee come ? Pie . My friend brings him along . Flo. Philippo Mutio , goe and perswade our daughter To walke , and take the ayre . Pisa . I le play that Orator . Exit . Flo. Attend the Duke of Pisa ; prethee Piero Discover where this Angelo lay lurking . Pie . The world he has shut up , and now the booke He reades , is onely heere , see where he comes . Enter Angelo as a Fryar , Fyametta . Flo. Way for my daughter ; looke you , there 's Angelo . Fya. Ha ? yes , 't is the starre I saile by ; hold me not , Why doe you sticke like rocks , to barre my way , And utterly to wracke mee ? Flo. Art thou mad ? Fya. Yes , I am mad , oh my best life , my soule ! Runs to him . Ang. Whom seeke you Lady ? Fya. Doe you not know me sir ? Ang. Yes . Fia. Doest thou not love mee ? Ang. Yes . Fya. At very heart ? Ang. Yes , at the very soule ! Fya. Burnes not your love , With that most holy fire , the god of marriage Kindles in man and woman ? Ang. Noe . Fia. Ha , no ? Flo. Hee sayes no . Fia. Then so , quod dedi perdidi . Ang. How can I love you Lady ? I have clim'd too many of such fruitlesse trees . Fia. Have you indeede ? Ang. Yes , and have pull'd the apples . Fya. Now I beshrew your fingers . Ang. And when I touch'd 'em , found 'em turn'd to dust . Why should you love me ? I have chang'd my pleasure In beautious dames , more then I have my dreames , Foure in one night . Flo. Hee 'le prove a lustie Larrence ; This is the starre you sayle by tho . Ang Why should you love me ? I am but a Tombe , Gay out-side , but within , rotten and foule . Fia. I le sweare th' art most diseas'd , even in thy soule ; Oh thou , thou most perfidious man alive , So prosper , as my poore sicke heart doth thrive ; Give me thy hand , I hate thee , fare-thee-well . Come , I make thee my heaven , wer 't once my Hell . To Pisa . Pisa . I 'me rap't above the spheares , Ioy strikes me dumbe . Flo. T' hast lent unto mine age a score of yeares , More then ere nature promis'd , by thy loving This Noble Prince ; th' art his then ? Fya. His — to prove it ; hence Thou from mee ; ne're more behold mine eyes . Ang. Now finde I , that a Lovers heart last dies . Exit . Flo. I , I , so , so ; If it die , it shall be buried . Fya. Good reverend Sir , stay you , and as you witnesse This my divorce , so shall you seale my contract . Fryar . I will , your pleasure . Flo. Fyametta , Make choice thy selfe of thine owne wedding day . Fya. To morrow be it , Loves poyson is delay , Gallants , pray stirre betimes , and rowse your Mistresses ; Let some invite Lord Vanni and his Lady ; Wee dine to day with Lord Iacomo , Thither let 's hasten : Sir , this holy man , Shall be this night my confessor ; about mid-night , Expect my sending for you . Fryer . Your devotion Commands my service . W' are least i' th fryers stead . The Prince be your confessor ; girle prepare To play the bride tomorrow , and then being laid , One night past o're thinke nere to rise a maide . Exit . Trumpets sounding services carried coverd over the stage , Poore attending Torrents one , then enter Iacomo bare betwixt the two Dukes , Piero , Philippo , Tornelli , Mutio. Flo. No more of complement , my Lord Gentili ; Such noble welcomes have we had this day , We must take blushing leaves , cause we can pay Nothing but thanks . Gent. That 's more then the whole debt comes to , Ne're saw I tables crown'd with braver store ; I know no man that spends my nor gives more , And yet a full sea still : why yonder fellow , The brave mock-prodigal has spent all indeed , He that made beggers proud , begs now himselfe for need . Gent. But who releeves him now ? none , for I know He that in riotous feasting , wastes his store , Is like a faire tree which in sommer bore Boughes laden till they crackt , with leaves and fruite ; Whose plenty lasting , all men came unto 't ; And pluckt and filld their lapps and carry away ; But when the boughes grow bare , and leaves decay : And the great tree stands saplesse , wither'd dry , Then each one casts on it a scornfull eye , And grieves to see it stand , nay do not greeve , Albeit the Axe downe to the roote it cleave ; The fall of such a tree , will I beware , I know both when to spend , and when to spare . Flo. 'T is nobly spoke Pisa . Nay good my Lord make hast . Pier. Here 's a childe lost i' th staying . Flo. Get 2. at night for 't . What is the bride yet drest ? Pier. She 's rigging Sir . Flo. 'T is well , musicke ? from whence ? What chambers that ? Mut. It Ioynes close to the Lodgings of the bride . Flo. Inquire . If she be ready , Mutio , say her bride-groome Attends on her below . Mut. I shall my Lord . Fiametta above . Pier. Tarry , she looks her selfe out . Flo. Come , come loiterer ; Fia. Faire welcome to your grace , and to that Prince , That should have bin my bridegroome . Flo. Should ha beene ? Pier. Is the Moone chang'd already ? Fia. In her changes the Moone is constant , man is onely varying , And never in one Circle long is tarying , But one man in the moone at once appeares , Such praise ( being true to one ) a woman beares . Flo. Take thou that praise and to this Prince be true , Come downe and marry him . Fia. What would the world say , If I should marry two men in one day ? Flo. That villaine has bewitch't her . Pier. Sir what villaine ? Flo. That slave , the banisht runnagate . Pier. Cast not on him Such foule aspersions , till you know his guilt ; Even now you said he was a worthy spirit , Crown'd him with praise , and do you now condemne An absent man unheard ? Flo. I le hang thee traitor . Pisa . Locke all the gates of Florence , least he scape . Flo. Our pardon , whosoever takes and kill him . Pier. Oh! who would trust in Princes , the vaine breath , Who in a minute gives one man life and death ? Fia. Come forth thou threatned man , here kill him all , Lower then what you stand on . none can fall . Angelo above . Ang. I now must stand your arrowes , but you shoote Against a breast as innocent — Flo. As a traytors . Ang. Your patience Sir , Pisa . Talk'st thou of patience ? that by thy most perfidious — Ang. Heare me pray . Enter frier above . Or if not me , heare then this reverend man . Pisa . What makes that Fryer there ? Pier. Father speake your minde . Fryer . I was enjoyned to be her confessor , And came but then she wonn me to a vow , By oath of all my orders , face to face , To heare her speak unto Angelo , 't was done , He came , when falling downe on both her knees , Her eyes drown'd all in teares , she opes a booke , Chardging him read his oaths and promises , The contract of their hands , hearts , yea and soules , And askd if Angelo would marry her . Flo. Very good . Fry . He looking pale as death , said faintly no . Pisa . Faintly , he then was willing ? Pier. Pray heare him out . Fry . Thrice tried : he thrice cried no ; At which this Ladie Desperately snatching from her side two knives , Had stab'd her selfe to th' heart , but that we knit Our force against it , what should I doe in this ? Not marry her , or rob her of heavens blisse ? Which glory had bin greater to have tane , A husband from her , or to have seene her slaine ? Flo. Then you have married her ? Fry . I have . Pier. Brave girle . Pisa . I le cut that knot asunder with my sword . Fry . The hands which heaven hath joyn'd , no man can part . Fia. The hands they may , but never shall the heart , Flo. Why didst thou make to him thy promise then ? Fia. Women are borne , but to make fooles of men . She that 's made sure to him , she loves not well , Her banes are ask'd here , but she wedds in hell ; Parents that match their children gainst their will , Teach them not how to live , but how to kill . Flo. Parrot , Parrot , I le stop your prating , breake into her chamber , And lay the villaine bleeding at her feete . Draw . Fia. Villaine ? it is my husband . Flo. Enter and kill him . Pier. Enter , but kill him he that dares , I blush To see two Princes so degenerate Fia. Oh noble brother ! Pier. What would you have him doe ? He well deserves to have her to his wife ; Who gives to you a daughter , her a life , In sight of angels she to him was given , So that in striking him , you fight with heaven . Flo. You see there is no remedie . Pisa . Troth none ; I threw at all ( and gamesters lucke ) all 's gone ; Farewell brave spirited girle , he that gainst winde , Fier and the sea , law and a womans minde , Strives , is a foole , that 's I , I le now be wise , And neuer more put trust in womans eyes . Fia. I love thee for that word with-all my heart . Flo. Will you come downe pray ? Fia. Sweare as you are a Duke . Flo. Yet more a doe . Pisa . Will you not trust your father ? Fia. Why should I ? you see there is no trust i' th' daughter ; Sweare by your hopes of good you will not touch His naile to hurt him . Flo. By my hopes I sweare . Fia. And you too ? Pisa . Yes , what 's falling none can reare . Fia. Wee come then noble friend , flagg not thy wings , In this warr I defie a campe of Kings . Exit . Enter Nicolletto , Tibaldo , Alphonsin . Daariene , Alissand , Trebatio . Flo. See , see , more shoales of friends , most beauteous Ladies , Faire welcomes to you all . Nic. My Lord those tides , Are turn'd , these Ladies are transform'd to brides . Flo. We heard the happy newes , and therefore sent , To marry joyes with joyes , yours , with our owne , Yours ( I see ) prosper , ours are overthrowne . Nic. How meane you overthrowne ? Enter Angel . Fiametta . Flo. Your owne eyes shall be witnesse how : nay , nay , pray rise , I know your heart is up , tho your knees downe . Ang. All that we stand in feare of is your frowne . Fia. And all deare father which I begge of you , Is that you love this man but as I doe . Flo. What begg you of this Prince ? Fia. That he would take One favour from me , which my selfe shall make . Pisa . Pray let it be of willow . Fia. Well then it shall . Alph. Why willow ? is the noble Prince forsaken ? Pier. All womens faults , one for another taken , Alp. Now in good sooth my Lord , shee has but vs'd you As watermen use their fares , for shee look'd one way , And row'd another , you but wore her glove , The hand was Angeloes , and she dealt wisely . Let woman ne're love man , or if she doe , Let him nere know it , make him write , waite woe , Court , cogge , and curse , and sweare , and lie , and pine , Till Love bring him to death's doore , else hee 's not mine , That flesh eates sweetest that 's pick'd close to th' bone , Water drinkes best , that 's hew'd euen from the stone ; Men must be put to 't home . Nico. He that loves ducking , let him come learne of thee . Flo. Shee has good skill ; At table will wee heare a full discourse Of all these changes , and these Marriages , Both how they shuffled , cut , and dealt about , What cards are best , after the trumpes were out , Who plaid false play , who true , who sought to save An Ace i th' bottome , and turn'd up a knave ; For Love is but a Card-play , and all 's lost , Vnlesse you cogg , hee that pack's best , wins must , Alp. Since such good gamsters are together met , As you like this , wee 'le play another sett . Exeunt . FINIS .

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c3cjz-001-b-0130 Histri● Quod non Dant proceres , Dabit Histrio . c3cjz-001-b-0250 Ra●orth LONDON : Printed by Robert Raworth , for Nicholas Vavasour ; and are to bee c3cjz-002-b-1690 Po●● ( The heaven where true worth moves ) our Poet do's bow : c3cjz-003-b-1160 hoires , then Pallaces , Let's leave all to our heires , for we are old . c3cjz-004-b-1140 Hymea The holy knot , Hymen shall shortly tie , and in faire bands , c3cjz-004-b-1360 Pisa● Pisa by the hands , Or Fyametta and this Pisa Duke ( Our Noble-son in law ) and at this c3cjz-004-b-1880 trium hs brauery , and expence , For royall feasts , triumphs and revellings . c3cjz-006-a-1950 need s Well brother , since you will needs saile by such a Starre as I shall point c3cjz-006-b-2760 noc know you for the Dukes sonne , but I know no cause of quarrell , or this base reproach c3cjz-006-b-2770 ause know you for the Dukes sonne , but I know no cause of quarrell , or this base reproach . c3cjz-009-a-3160 〈◊〉 Anchorite : A benefit given by a Niggards hand Is stale and gravily bread , the hunger-sterv'd Takes c3cjz-011-b-4070 b●se your high worth is knowne full well Gainst base assault , a Fort Impregnable ; And therefore c3cjz-011-b-4190 ●ove Fort Impregnable ; And therefore , as you love my life , ith' sprindge , Catch this old c3cjz-013-a-3340 wo'dto health as sound as hath the spring , She wo'd to me prove sickly Autumne still . c3cjz-013-a-3740 faithis still turning , I loose that starre , my faith is paid with scorning . Who then with eagles c3cjz-013-a-3830 eag'es faith is paid with scorning . Who then with eagles wings of faith and truth , W'ud in her sun-beames c3cjz-014-a-3480 present amently de Gentle-voman , and by gars-blor , she presentamently kick up de heele at de man she lova . c3cjz-017-b-1190 Cover d poore are but the earths-dung fit to lie Cover'd on much-heapes not to offend the eye . c3cjz-018-b-0900 fcurvie Tis not your scurvie English Poppy , nor Mandragon , nor a ting c3cjz-018-b-1870 ▪ but bring in de Fidlers , and play sweet — c3cjz-019-b-0110 sheebe Par-ma-soy all French be-gor shee be mad as the moone . c3cjz-020-a-3210 seigne him for your bed ; Rap'd with joy , he'le feigne businesse of state , To leave his lady , c3cjz-020-b-1180 Scaenaprima Actus quartus . Scaena prima . c3cjz-020-b-1820 Nicholett●● chaine of gold to every Courtier . Exit . Nicholetto and he stay . c3cjz-022-b-3590 seavers youth's ryotts ? or my blood boile hot With feavers ? or is't num'd with dropsies , cold Coughes c3cjz-023-a-0610 area they , I'me not choak'd with bills , Which Are a stronger purge then the disease . c3cjz-024-a-0250 ▪ wrackt at sea , Beaten a shore by penury , 3 . yeares a Turkish Gally-slave . c3cjz-025-a-2330 lighr ) it speakes , she bids me come without a light , and reason sheds light enough herselfe c3cjz-025-a-2370 snes bids me come without a light , and reason sheds light enough herselfe ; wincke thou one-eyed c3cjz-025-b-0120 sleeepe Ther's nothing stirring , the very mice are a sleepe , as I am noble , Ile deale with thee like c3cjz-025-b-1930 a buse good sir ; Pray play upon some other , you abuse mee , And that which seemes worse , c3cjz-025-b-2900 Cargorunning Enter Cargo running . c3cjz-026-b-2860 Loversheart Now finde I , that a Lovers heart last dies . c3cjz-027-a-0400 O●e the bride tomorrow , and then being laid , One night past o're thinke nere to rise a maide c3cjz-027-a-1520 fu●l that spends my nor gives more , And yet a full sea still : why yonder fellow , The brave c3cjz-027-a-1620 mo●k-prodigall sea still : why yonder fellow , The brave mock-prodigal has spent all indeed , He that made beggers c3cjz-027-a-3810 Ioynesclose It Ioynes close to the Lodgings of the bride . c3cjz-027-b-0130 Fiamotta Fiametta above . c3cjz-027-b-2870 ▪ kill him all , Lower then what you stand on . none can fall .