Ex. Officers with Rom.Du Croye.Remember what we are.Chara.Thus low my dutyAnsweres your Lordships counsaile. I will vseIn the few words (with which I am to troubleYour Lordships eares) the temper that you wish mee.[150]Not that I feare to speake my thoughts as lowd,And with a liberty beyondRomont:But that I know, for me that am made vpOf all that’s wretched, so to haste my end,Would seeme to most, rather a willingnesse[155]To quit the burthen of a hopelesse life,Then scorne of death, or duty to the dead.I therefore bring the tribute of my prayseTo your seueritie, and commend the Iustice,That will not for the many seruices[160]That any man hath done the Common wealthWinke at his least of ills: what though my fatherWrit man before he was so, and confirmd it,By numbring that day, no part of his life,In which he did not seruice to his Country;[165]Was he to be free therefore from the Lawes,And ceremonious forme in your decrees?Or else because he did as much as manIn those three memorable ouerthrowesAtGranson,Morat,Nancy, where his Master,[170]The warlikeCharloyes(with whose misfortunesI beare his name) lost treasure, men and life,To be excus’d, from payment of those summesWhich (his owne patri mony spent) his zeale,To serue his Countrey, forc’d him to take vp?[175]Nou. Se.The president were ill.Chara.And yet, my Lord, this muchI know youll grant; After those great defeatures,Which in their dreadfull ruines buried quick,(Enter officers.Courage and hope, in all men but himselfe,He forst the proud foe, in his height of conquest,[180]To yield vnto an honourable peace.And in it saued an hundred thousand liues,To end his owne, that was sure proofe againstThe scalding Summers heate, and Winters frost,Illayres, the Cannon, and the enemies sword,[185]In a most loathsome prison.Du Croy.Twas his faultTo be so prodigall.Nou. Se.He had frô the stateSufficent entertainment for the Army.Char.Sufficient? My Lord, you sit at home,And though your fees are boundlesse at the barre:[190]Are thriftie in the charges of the warre,But your wills be obeyd. To these I turne,To these soft-hearted men, that wisely knowThey are onely good men, that pay what they owe.2 Cred.And so they are.1 Cred.’Tis the City Doctrine,[195]We stand bound to maintaine it.Char.Be constant in it,And since you are as mercilesse in your natures,As base, and mercenary in your meanesBy which you get your wealth, I will not vrgeThe Court to take away one scruple from[200]The right of their lawes, or one good thoughtIn you to mend your disposition with.I know there is no musique in your earesSo pleasing as the groanes of men in prison,And that the teares of widows, and the cries[205]Of famish’d Orphants, are the feasts that take you.That to be in your danger, with more careShould be auoyded, then infectious ayre,The loath’d embraces of diseased women,A flatterers poyson, or the losse of honour.[210]Yet rather then my fathers reuerent dustShall want a place in that faire monument,In which our noble Ancestors lye intomb’d,Before the Court I offer vp my selfeA prisoner for it: loade me with those yrons[215]That haue worne out his life, in my best strengthIle run to th’ incounter of cold hunger,And choose my dwelling where no Sun dares enter,So he may be releas’d.1 Cred.What meane you sir?2 Aduo.Onely your fee againe: ther’s so much sayd[220]Already in this cause, and sayd so well,That should I onely offer to speake in it,I should not bee heard, or laught at for it.1 Cred.’Tis the first mony aduocate ere gaue backe,Though hee sayd nothing.Roch.Be aduis’d, young Lord,[225]And well considerate, you throw awayYour liberty, and ioyes of life together:Your bounty is imployd vpon a subiectThat is not sensible of it, with which, wise manNeuer abus’d his goodnesse; the great vertues[230]Of your dead father vindicate themselues,From these mens malice, and breake ope the prison,Though it containe his body.Nou. Se.Let him alone,If he loue Lords, a Gods name let him weare ’em,Prouided these consent.Char.I hope they are not[235]So ignorant in any way of profit,As to neglect a possibilityTo get their owne, by seeking it from thatWhich can returne them nothing, but ill fame,And curses for their barbarous cruelties.[240]3 Cred.What thinke you of the offer?2 Cred.Very well.1 Cred.Accept it by all meanes: let’s shut him vp,He is well-shaped and has a villanous tongue,And should he study that way of reuenge,As I dare almost sweare he loues a wench,[245]We haue no wiues, nor neuer shall get daughtersThat will hold out against him.Du Croy.What’s your answer?2 Cred.Speake you for all.1 Cred.Why let our executionsThat lye vpon the father, bee return’dVpon the sonne, and we release the body.[250]Nou. Se.The Court must grant you that.Char.I thanke your Lordships,They haue in it confirm’d on me such glory,As no time can take from me: I am ready,Come lead me where you please: captiuityThat comes with honour, is true liberty.[255]Exit Charmi, Cred. & Officers.Nou. Se.Strange rashnesse.Roch.A braue resolution rather,Worthy a better fortune, but howeuerIt is not now to be disputed, thereforeTo my owne cause. Already I haue foundYour Lordships bountifull in your fauours to me;[260]And that should teach my modesty to end heereAnd presse your loues no further.Du Croy.There is nothingThe Court can grant, but with assurance youMay aske it and obtaine it.Roch.You incourageA bold Petitioner, and ’tis not fit[265]Your fauours should be lost. Besides, ’tas beeneA custome many yeeres, at the surrendringThe place I now giue vp, to grant the PresidentOne boone, that parted with it. And to confirmeYour grace towards me, against all such as may[270]Detract my actions, and life hereafter,I now preferre it to you.Du Croy.Speake it freely.Roch.I then desire the liberty ofRomont,And that my LordNouall, whose priuate wrongWas equall to the iniurie that was done[275]To the dignity of the Court, will pardon it,And now signe his enlargement.Nou. Se.Pray you demandThe moyety of my estate, or any thingWithin my power, but this.Roch.Am I denyed then—My first and last request?Du Croy.It must not be.[280]2 Pre.I haue a voyce to giue in it.3 Pre.And I.And if perswasion will not worke him to it,We will make knowne our power.Nou. Se.You are too violent,You shall haue my consent—But would you hadMade tryall of my loue in any thing[285]But this, you should haue found then—But it skills not.You haue what you desire.Roch.I thanke your Lordships.Du Croy.The court is vp, make way.Ex. omnes, praeter Roch. & Beaumont.Roch.I follow you—Baumont.Baum.My Lord.Roch.You are a scholler,Baumont,And can search deeper into th’ intents of men,[290]Then those that are lesse knowing—How appear’dThe piety and braue behauior ofYoungCharloyesto you?Baum.It is my wonder,Since I want language to expresse it fully;And sure the Collonell—Roch.Fie! he was faulty—[295]What present mony haue I?Baum.There is no wantOf any summe a priuate man has use for.Roch.’Tis well:I am strangely taken with thisCharaloyes;Me thinkes, from his example, the whole ageShould learne to be good, and continue so.[300]Vertue workes strangely with vs: and his goodnesseRising aboue his fortune, seemes to mePrincelike, to will, not aske a courtesie.Exeunt.Act. secundus.Scæna prima:[A Street before the Prison]Enter Pontalier,Malotin,Baumont.Mal.Tis strange.Baum.Me thinkes so.Pont.In a man, but young,Yet old in iudgement, theorique, and practickeIn all humanity (and to increase the wonder)Religious, yet a Souldier, that he shouldYeeld his free liuing youth a captiue, for[5]The freedome of his aged fathers Corpes,And rather choose to want lifes necessaries,Liberty, hope of fortune, then it shouldIn death be kept from Christian ceremony.Malo.Come, ’Tis a golden president in a Sonne,[10]To let strong nature haue the better hand,(In such a case) of all affected reason.What yeeres sits on this Charolois?Baum.Twenty eight,For since the clocke did strike him 17 oldVnder his fathers wing, this Sonne hath fought,[15]Seru’d and commanded, and so aptly both,That sometimes he appear’d his fathers father,And neuer lesse then’s sonne; the old man’s vertuesSo recent in him, as the world may sweare,Nought but a faire tree, could such fayre fruit beare.[20]Pont.But wherefore lets he such a barbarous law,And men more barbarous to execute it,Preuaile on his soft disposition,That he had rather dye aliue for debtOf the old man in prison, then he should[25]Rob him of Sepulture, consideringThese monies borrow’d bought the lenders peace,And all their meanes they inioy, nor was diffus’dIn any impious or licencious path?Bau.True: for my part, were it my fathers trunke,[30]The tyrannous Ram-heads, with their hornes should gore it,Or, cast it to their curres (than they) lesse currish,Ere prey on me so, with their Lion-law,Being in my free will (as in his) to shun it.Pont.Alasse! he knowes him selfe (in pouerty) lost:[35]For in this parciall auaricious ageWhat price beares Honor? Vertue? Long agoeIt was but prays’d, and freez’d, but now a dayes’Tis colder far, and has, nor loue, nor praise,Very prayse now freezeth too: for nature[40]Did make the heathen, far more Christian then,Then knowledge vs (lesse heathenish) Christian.Malo.This morning is the funerall.Pont.Certainely!And from this prison ’twas the sonnes requestThat his deare father might interment haue.(Recorders Musique,[45]See, the young sonne interd a liuely graue.Baum.They come, obserue their order.Enter Funerall. Body borne by 4. Captaines and Souldiers, Mourners, Scutchions, and very good order. Charolois, and Romont meet it. Char. speaks. Rom. weeping, solemne Musique, 3 Creditors.Char.How like a silent streame shaded with night,And gliding softly with our windy sighes;Moues the whole frame of this solemnity![50]Teares, sighs, and blackes, filling the simily,Whilst I the onely murmur in this groueOf death, thus hollowly break forth! VouchsafeTo stay a while, rest, rest in peace, deare earth,Thou that brought’st rest to their vnthankfull lyues,[55]Whose cruelty deny’d thee rest in death:Heere stands thy poore Executor thy sonne,That makes his life prisoner, to bale thy death;Who gladlier puts on this captiuity,Then Virgins long in loue, their wedding weeds:[60]Of all that euer thou hast done good to,These onely haue good memories, for theyRemember best, forget not gratitude.I thanke you for this last and friendly loue.And tho this Country, like a viperous mother,[65]Not onely hath eate vp vngratefullyAll meanes of thee her sonne, but last thy selfe,Leauing thy heire so bare and indigent,He cannot rayse thee a poore Monument,Such as a flatterer, or a vsurer hath.[70]Thy worth, in euery honest brest buyldes one,Making their friendly hearts thy funerall stone.Pont.Sir.Char.Peace, O peace, this sceane is wholy mine.What weepe ye, souldiers? Blanch not,Romontweepes.[75]Ha, let me see, my miracle is eas’d,The iaylors and the creditors do weepe;Euen they that make vs weepe, do weepe themselues.Be these thy bodies balme: these and thy vertueKeepe thy fame euer odoriferous,[80]Whilst the great, proud, rich, vndeseruing man,Aliue stinkes in his vices, and being vanish’d,The golden calfe that was an Idoll dectWith marble pillars Iet, and Porphyrie,Shall quickly both in bone and name consume,[85]Though wrapt in lead, spice, Searecloth and perfume1 Cred.Sir.Char.What! Away for shame: you prophane roguesMust not be mingled with these holy reliques:This is a Sacrifice, our showre shall crowne[90]His sepulcher with Oliue, Myrrh and BayesThe plants of peace, of sorrow, victorie,Your teares would spring but weedes.1 Cred.Would they not so?Wee’ll keepe them to stop bottles then:Rom.No; keepe ’emFor your owne sins, you Rogues, till you repent:[95]You’ll dye else and be damn’d.2 Cred.Damn’d, ha! ha, ha.Rom.Laugh yee?3 Cred.Yes faith, Sir, weel’d be very gladTo please you eyther way.1 Cred.Y’are ne’re content,Crying nor laughing.Rom.Both with a birth shee rogues.2 Cred.Our wiues, Sir, taught vs.[100]Rom.Looke, looke, you slaues, your thanklesse crueltyAnd sauage manners, of vnkindDijon,Exhaust these flouds, and not his fathers death.1 Cred.Slid, Sir, what would yee, ye’are so cholericke?2 Cred.Most soldiers are so yfaith, let him alone:[105]They haue little else to liue on, we haue not hadA penny of him, haue we?3 Cred.’Slight, wo’d you haue our hearts?1 Cred.We haue nothing but his body heere in duranceFor all our mony.Priest.On.Char.One moment more,But to bestow a few poore legacyes,[110]All I haue left in my dead fathers rights,And I haue done. Captaine, weare thou these spursThat yet ne’re made his horse runne from a foe.Lieutenant, thou, this Scarfe, and may it tyeThy valor, and thy honestie together:[115]For so it did in him. Ensigne, this CuraceYour Generalls necklace once. You gentle Bearers,Deuide this purse of gold, this other, strowAmong the poore: tis all I haue.Romont,(Weare thou this medall of himselfe) that like[120]A hearty Oake, grew’st close to this tall Pine,Euen in the wildest wildernese of war,Whereon foes broke their swords, and tyr’d themselues;Wounded and hack’d yee were, but neuer fell’d.For me my portion prouide in Heauen:[125]My roote is earth’d, and I a desolate branchLeft scattered in the high way of the world,Trod vnder foot, that might haue bin a Columne,Mainly supporting our demolish’d house,This would I weare as my inheritance.[130]And what hope can arise to me from it,When I and it are both heere prisoners?Onely may this, if euer we be free,Keepe, or redeeme me from all infamie.Song. Musicke.1 Cred.No farther, looke to ’em at your owne perill.[135]2 Cred.No, as they please: their Master’s a good man.I would they were theBurmudas.Saylor.You must no further.The prison limits you, and the CreditorsExact the strictnesse.Rom.Out you wooluish mungrells!Whose braynes should be knockt out, like dogs in Iuly,[140]Leste your infection poyson a whole towne.Char.They grudge our sorrow: your ill wills perforceTurnes now to Charity: they would not haue vsWalke too farre mourning, vsurers reliefeGrieues, if the Debtors haue too much of griefe.[145]Exeunt.[SCENE II][A Room in Rochfort’s House.]Enter Beaumelle:Florimell:Bellapert.Beau.I prithee tell me,Florimell, why do women marry?Flor.Why truly Madam, I thinke, to lye with their husbands.Bella.You are a foole: She lyes, Madam, women marry husbands,To lye with other men.[5]Flor.Faith eene such a woman wilt thou make. By this light, Madam, this wagtaile will spoyle you, if you take delight in her licence.Beau.Tis true,Florimell: and thou wilt make me too good for a yong Lady. What an electuary found my father out for[10]his daughter, when hee compounded you two my women? for thou,Florimell, art eene a graine to heauy, simply for a wayting Gentlewoman.Flor.And thouBellapert, a graine too light.Bella.Well, go thy wayes goodly wisdom, whom no body[15]regards. I wonder, whether be elder thou or thy hood: you thinke, because you serue my Laydes mother, are 32 yeeres old which is a peepe out, you know.Flor.Well sayd, wherligig.Bella.You are deceyu’d: I want a peg ith’ middle.[20]Out of these Prerogatiues! you thinke to be mother of the maydes heere, & mortifie em with prouerbs: goe, goe, gouern the sweet meates, and waigh the Suger, that the wenches steale none: say your prayers twice a day, and as I take it, you haue performd your function.[25]Flor.I may bee euen with you.Bell.Harke, the Court’s broke vp. Goe helpe my old Lord out of his Caroch, and scratch his head till dinner time.Flor.Well.Exit.Bell.Fy Madam, how you walke! By my mayden-head[30]you looke 7 yeeres older then you did this morning: why, there can be nothing vnder the Sunne vanuable, to make you thus a minute.Beau.Ah my sweete Bellapert thou CabinetTo all my counsels, thou dost know the cause[35]That makes thy Lady wither thus in youth.Bel.Vd’d-light, enioy your wishes: whilst I liue,One way or other you shall crowne your will.Would you haue him your husband that you loue,And can’t not bee? he is your seruant though,[40]And may performe the office of a husband.Beau.But there is honor, wench.Bell.Such a diseaseThere is in deed, for which ere I would dy.—Beau.Prethee, distinguish me a mayd & wife.Bell.Faith, Madam, one may beare any mans children,[45]Tother must beare no mans.Beau.What is a husband?Bell.Physicke, that tumbling in your belly, will make you sicke ith’ stomacke: the onely distinction betwixt a husband and a seruant is: the first will lye with you, when he please; the last shall lye with you when you please. Pray tell me,[50]Lady, do you loue, to marry after, or would you marry, to loue after.Beau.I would meete loue and marriage both at once.Bell.Why then you are out of the fashion, and wilbe contemn’d; for (Ile assure you) there are few women i’th world,[55]but either they haue married first, and loue after, or loue first, and marryed after: you must do as you may, not as you would: your fathers will is the Goale you must fly to: if a husband approach you, you would haue further off, is he your loue? the lesse neere you. A husband in these days is but a[60]cloake to bee oftner layde vpon your bed, then in your bed.Baum.Humpe.Bell.Sometimes you may weare him on your shoulder, now and then vnder your arme: but seldome or neuer let him[65]couer you: for ’tis not the fashion.
Ex. Officers with Rom.
Du Croye.Remember what we are.
Chara.Thus low my dutyAnsweres your Lordships counsaile. I will vseIn the few words (with which I am to troubleYour Lordships eares) the temper that you wish mee.[150]Not that I feare to speake my thoughts as lowd,And with a liberty beyondRomont:But that I know, for me that am made vpOf all that’s wretched, so to haste my end,Would seeme to most, rather a willingnesse[155]To quit the burthen of a hopelesse life,Then scorne of death, or duty to the dead.I therefore bring the tribute of my prayseTo your seueritie, and commend the Iustice,That will not for the many seruices[160]That any man hath done the Common wealthWinke at his least of ills: what though my fatherWrit man before he was so, and confirmd it,By numbring that day, no part of his life,In which he did not seruice to his Country;[165]Was he to be free therefore from the Lawes,And ceremonious forme in your decrees?Or else because he did as much as manIn those three memorable ouerthrowesAtGranson,Morat,Nancy, where his Master,[170]The warlikeCharloyes(with whose misfortunesI beare his name) lost treasure, men and life,To be excus’d, from payment of those summesWhich (his owne patri mony spent) his zeale,To serue his Countrey, forc’d him to take vp?[175]
Nou. Se.The president were ill.
Chara.And yet, my Lord, this muchI know youll grant; After those great defeatures,Which in their dreadfull ruines buried quick,(Enter officers.Courage and hope, in all men but himselfe,He forst the proud foe, in his height of conquest,[180]To yield vnto an honourable peace.And in it saued an hundred thousand liues,To end his owne, that was sure proofe againstThe scalding Summers heate, and Winters frost,Illayres, the Cannon, and the enemies sword,[185]In a most loathsome prison.
Du Croy.Twas his faultTo be so prodigall.
Nou. Se.He had frô the stateSufficent entertainment for the Army.
Char.Sufficient? My Lord, you sit at home,And though your fees are boundlesse at the barre:[190]Are thriftie in the charges of the warre,But your wills be obeyd. To these I turne,To these soft-hearted men, that wisely knowThey are onely good men, that pay what they owe.
2 Cred.And so they are.
1 Cred.’Tis the City Doctrine,[195]We stand bound to maintaine it.
Char.Be constant in it,And since you are as mercilesse in your natures,As base, and mercenary in your meanesBy which you get your wealth, I will not vrgeThe Court to take away one scruple from[200]The right of their lawes, or one good thoughtIn you to mend your disposition with.I know there is no musique in your earesSo pleasing as the groanes of men in prison,And that the teares of widows, and the cries[205]Of famish’d Orphants, are the feasts that take you.That to be in your danger, with more careShould be auoyded, then infectious ayre,The loath’d embraces of diseased women,A flatterers poyson, or the losse of honour.[210]Yet rather then my fathers reuerent dustShall want a place in that faire monument,In which our noble Ancestors lye intomb’d,Before the Court I offer vp my selfeA prisoner for it: loade me with those yrons[215]That haue worne out his life, in my best strengthIle run to th’ incounter of cold hunger,And choose my dwelling where no Sun dares enter,So he may be releas’d.
1 Cred.What meane you sir?
2 Aduo.Onely your fee againe: ther’s so much sayd[220]Already in this cause, and sayd so well,That should I onely offer to speake in it,I should not bee heard, or laught at for it.
1 Cred.’Tis the first mony aduocate ere gaue backe,Though hee sayd nothing.
Roch.Be aduis’d, young Lord,[225]And well considerate, you throw awayYour liberty, and ioyes of life together:Your bounty is imployd vpon a subiectThat is not sensible of it, with which, wise manNeuer abus’d his goodnesse; the great vertues[230]Of your dead father vindicate themselues,From these mens malice, and breake ope the prison,Though it containe his body.
Nou. Se.Let him alone,If he loue Lords, a Gods name let him weare ’em,Prouided these consent.
Char.I hope they are not[235]So ignorant in any way of profit,As to neglect a possibilityTo get their owne, by seeking it from thatWhich can returne them nothing, but ill fame,And curses for their barbarous cruelties.[240]
3 Cred.What thinke you of the offer?
2 Cred.Very well.
1 Cred.Accept it by all meanes: let’s shut him vp,He is well-shaped and has a villanous tongue,And should he study that way of reuenge,As I dare almost sweare he loues a wench,[245]We haue no wiues, nor neuer shall get daughtersThat will hold out against him.
Du Croy.What’s your answer?
2 Cred.Speake you for all.
1 Cred.Why let our executionsThat lye vpon the father, bee return’dVpon the sonne, and we release the body.[250]
Nou. Se.The Court must grant you that.
Char.I thanke your Lordships,They haue in it confirm’d on me such glory,As no time can take from me: I am ready,Come lead me where you please: captiuityThat comes with honour, is true liberty.[255]
Exit Charmi, Cred. & Officers.
Nou. Se.Strange rashnesse.
Roch.A braue resolution rather,Worthy a better fortune, but howeuerIt is not now to be disputed, thereforeTo my owne cause. Already I haue foundYour Lordships bountifull in your fauours to me;[260]And that should teach my modesty to end heereAnd presse your loues no further.
Du Croy.There is nothingThe Court can grant, but with assurance youMay aske it and obtaine it.
Roch.You incourageA bold Petitioner, and ’tis not fit[265]Your fauours should be lost. Besides, ’tas beeneA custome many yeeres, at the surrendringThe place I now giue vp, to grant the PresidentOne boone, that parted with it. And to confirmeYour grace towards me, against all such as may[270]Detract my actions, and life hereafter,I now preferre it to you.
Du Croy.Speake it freely.
Roch.I then desire the liberty ofRomont,And that my LordNouall, whose priuate wrongWas equall to the iniurie that was done[275]To the dignity of the Court, will pardon it,And now signe his enlargement.
Nou. Se.Pray you demandThe moyety of my estate, or any thingWithin my power, but this.
Roch.Am I denyed then—My first and last request?
Du Croy.It must not be.[280]
2 Pre.I haue a voyce to giue in it.
3 Pre.And I.And if perswasion will not worke him to it,We will make knowne our power.
Nou. Se.You are too violent,You shall haue my consent—But would you hadMade tryall of my loue in any thing[285]But this, you should haue found then—But it skills not.You haue what you desire.
Roch.I thanke your Lordships.
Du Croy.The court is vp, make way.
Ex. omnes, praeter Roch. & Beaumont.
Roch.I follow you—Baumont.
Baum.My Lord.
Roch.You are a scholler,Baumont,And can search deeper into th’ intents of men,[290]Then those that are lesse knowing—How appear’dThe piety and braue behauior ofYoungCharloyesto you?
Baum.It is my wonder,Since I want language to expresse it fully;And sure the Collonell—
Roch.Fie! he was faulty—[295]What present mony haue I?
Baum.There is no wantOf any summe a priuate man has use for.
Roch.’Tis well:I am strangely taken with thisCharaloyes;Me thinkes, from his example, the whole ageShould learne to be good, and continue so.[300]Vertue workes strangely with vs: and his goodnesseRising aboue his fortune, seemes to mePrincelike, to will, not aske a courtesie.
Exeunt.
[A Street before the Prison]
Enter Pontalier,Malotin,Baumont.
Mal.Tis strange.
Baum.Me thinkes so.
Pont.In a man, but young,Yet old in iudgement, theorique, and practickeIn all humanity (and to increase the wonder)Religious, yet a Souldier, that he shouldYeeld his free liuing youth a captiue, for[5]The freedome of his aged fathers Corpes,And rather choose to want lifes necessaries,Liberty, hope of fortune, then it shouldIn death be kept from Christian ceremony.
Malo.Come, ’Tis a golden president in a Sonne,[10]To let strong nature haue the better hand,(In such a case) of all affected reason.What yeeres sits on this Charolois?
Baum.Twenty eight,For since the clocke did strike him 17 oldVnder his fathers wing, this Sonne hath fought,[15]Seru’d and commanded, and so aptly both,That sometimes he appear’d his fathers father,And neuer lesse then’s sonne; the old man’s vertuesSo recent in him, as the world may sweare,Nought but a faire tree, could such fayre fruit beare.[20]
Pont.But wherefore lets he such a barbarous law,And men more barbarous to execute it,Preuaile on his soft disposition,That he had rather dye aliue for debtOf the old man in prison, then he should[25]Rob him of Sepulture, consideringThese monies borrow’d bought the lenders peace,And all their meanes they inioy, nor was diffus’dIn any impious or licencious path?
Bau.True: for my part, were it my fathers trunke,[30]The tyrannous Ram-heads, with their hornes should gore it,Or, cast it to their curres (than they) lesse currish,Ere prey on me so, with their Lion-law,Being in my free will (as in his) to shun it.
Pont.Alasse! he knowes him selfe (in pouerty) lost:[35]For in this parciall auaricious ageWhat price beares Honor? Vertue? Long agoeIt was but prays’d, and freez’d, but now a dayes’Tis colder far, and has, nor loue, nor praise,Very prayse now freezeth too: for nature[40]Did make the heathen, far more Christian then,Then knowledge vs (lesse heathenish) Christian.
Malo.This morning is the funerall.
Pont.Certainely!And from this prison ’twas the sonnes requestThat his deare father might interment haue.(Recorders Musique,[45]See, the young sonne interd a liuely graue.
Baum.They come, obserue their order.
Enter Funerall. Body borne by 4. Captaines and Souldiers, Mourners, Scutchions, and very good order. Charolois, and Romont meet it. Char. speaks. Rom. weeping, solemne Musique, 3 Creditors.
Char.How like a silent streame shaded with night,And gliding softly with our windy sighes;Moues the whole frame of this solemnity![50]Teares, sighs, and blackes, filling the simily,Whilst I the onely murmur in this groueOf death, thus hollowly break forth! VouchsafeTo stay a while, rest, rest in peace, deare earth,Thou that brought’st rest to their vnthankfull lyues,[55]Whose cruelty deny’d thee rest in death:Heere stands thy poore Executor thy sonne,That makes his life prisoner, to bale thy death;Who gladlier puts on this captiuity,Then Virgins long in loue, their wedding weeds:[60]Of all that euer thou hast done good to,These onely haue good memories, for theyRemember best, forget not gratitude.I thanke you for this last and friendly loue.And tho this Country, like a viperous mother,[65]Not onely hath eate vp vngratefullyAll meanes of thee her sonne, but last thy selfe,Leauing thy heire so bare and indigent,He cannot rayse thee a poore Monument,Such as a flatterer, or a vsurer hath.[70]Thy worth, in euery honest brest buyldes one,Making their friendly hearts thy funerall stone.
Pont.Sir.
Char.Peace, O peace, this sceane is wholy mine.What weepe ye, souldiers? Blanch not,Romontweepes.[75]Ha, let me see, my miracle is eas’d,The iaylors and the creditors do weepe;Euen they that make vs weepe, do weepe themselues.Be these thy bodies balme: these and thy vertueKeepe thy fame euer odoriferous,[80]Whilst the great, proud, rich, vndeseruing man,Aliue stinkes in his vices, and being vanish’d,The golden calfe that was an Idoll dectWith marble pillars Iet, and Porphyrie,Shall quickly both in bone and name consume,[85]Though wrapt in lead, spice, Searecloth and perfume
1 Cred.Sir.
Char.What! Away for shame: you prophane roguesMust not be mingled with these holy reliques:This is a Sacrifice, our showre shall crowne[90]His sepulcher with Oliue, Myrrh and BayesThe plants of peace, of sorrow, victorie,Your teares would spring but weedes.
1 Cred.Would they not so?Wee’ll keepe them to stop bottles then:
Rom.No; keepe ’emFor your owne sins, you Rogues, till you repent:[95]You’ll dye else and be damn’d.
2 Cred.Damn’d, ha! ha, ha.
Rom.Laugh yee?
3 Cred.Yes faith, Sir, weel’d be very gladTo please you eyther way.
1 Cred.Y’are ne’re content,Crying nor laughing.
Rom.Both with a birth shee rogues.
2 Cred.Our wiues, Sir, taught vs.[100]
Rom.Looke, looke, you slaues, your thanklesse crueltyAnd sauage manners, of vnkindDijon,Exhaust these flouds, and not his fathers death.
1 Cred.Slid, Sir, what would yee, ye’are so cholericke?
2 Cred.Most soldiers are so yfaith, let him alone:[105]They haue little else to liue on, we haue not hadA penny of him, haue we?
3 Cred.’Slight, wo’d you haue our hearts?
1 Cred.We haue nothing but his body heere in duranceFor all our mony.
Priest.On.
Char.One moment more,But to bestow a few poore legacyes,[110]All I haue left in my dead fathers rights,And I haue done. Captaine, weare thou these spursThat yet ne’re made his horse runne from a foe.Lieutenant, thou, this Scarfe, and may it tyeThy valor, and thy honestie together:[115]For so it did in him. Ensigne, this CuraceYour Generalls necklace once. You gentle Bearers,Deuide this purse of gold, this other, strowAmong the poore: tis all I haue.Romont,(Weare thou this medall of himselfe) that like[120]A hearty Oake, grew’st close to this tall Pine,Euen in the wildest wildernese of war,Whereon foes broke their swords, and tyr’d themselues;Wounded and hack’d yee were, but neuer fell’d.For me my portion prouide in Heauen:[125]My roote is earth’d, and I a desolate branchLeft scattered in the high way of the world,Trod vnder foot, that might haue bin a Columne,Mainly supporting our demolish’d house,This would I weare as my inheritance.[130]And what hope can arise to me from it,When I and it are both heere prisoners?Onely may this, if euer we be free,Keepe, or redeeme me from all infamie.
Song. Musicke.
1 Cred.No farther, looke to ’em at your owne perill.[135]
2 Cred.No, as they please: their Master’s a good man.I would they were theBurmudas.
Saylor.You must no further.The prison limits you, and the CreditorsExact the strictnesse.
Rom.Out you wooluish mungrells!Whose braynes should be knockt out, like dogs in Iuly,[140]Leste your infection poyson a whole towne.
Char.They grudge our sorrow: your ill wills perforceTurnes now to Charity: they would not haue vsWalke too farre mourning, vsurers reliefeGrieues, if the Debtors haue too much of griefe.[145]
Exeunt.
[A Room in Rochfort’s House.]
Enter Beaumelle:Florimell:Bellapert.
Beau.I prithee tell me,Florimell, why do women marry?
Flor.Why truly Madam, I thinke, to lye with their husbands.
Bella.You are a foole: She lyes, Madam, women marry husbands,To lye with other men.[5]
Flor.Faith eene such a woman wilt thou make. By this light, Madam, this wagtaile will spoyle you, if you take delight in her licence.
Beau.Tis true,Florimell: and thou wilt make me too good for a yong Lady. What an electuary found my father out for[10]his daughter, when hee compounded you two my women? for thou,Florimell, art eene a graine to heauy, simply for a wayting Gentlewoman.
Flor.And thouBellapert, a graine too light.
Bella.Well, go thy wayes goodly wisdom, whom no body[15]regards. I wonder, whether be elder thou or thy hood: you thinke, because you serue my Laydes mother, are 32 yeeres old which is a peepe out, you know.
Flor.Well sayd, wherligig.
Bella.You are deceyu’d: I want a peg ith’ middle.[20]Out of these Prerogatiues! you thinke to be mother of the maydes heere, & mortifie em with prouerbs: goe, goe, gouern the sweet meates, and waigh the Suger, that the wenches steale none: say your prayers twice a day, and as I take it, you haue performd your function.[25]
Flor.I may bee euen with you.
Bell.Harke, the Court’s broke vp. Goe helpe my old Lord out of his Caroch, and scratch his head till dinner time.
Flor.Well.
Exit.
Bell.Fy Madam, how you walke! By my mayden-head[30]you looke 7 yeeres older then you did this morning: why, there can be nothing vnder the Sunne vanuable, to make you thus a minute.
Beau.Ah my sweete Bellapert thou CabinetTo all my counsels, thou dost know the cause[35]That makes thy Lady wither thus in youth.
Bel.Vd’d-light, enioy your wishes: whilst I liue,One way or other you shall crowne your will.Would you haue him your husband that you loue,And can’t not bee? he is your seruant though,[40]And may performe the office of a husband.
Beau.But there is honor, wench.
Bell.Such a diseaseThere is in deed, for which ere I would dy.—
Beau.Prethee, distinguish me a mayd & wife.
Bell.Faith, Madam, one may beare any mans children,[45]Tother must beare no mans.
Beau.What is a husband?
Bell.Physicke, that tumbling in your belly, will make you sicke ith’ stomacke: the onely distinction betwixt a husband and a seruant is: the first will lye with you, when he please; the last shall lye with you when you please. Pray tell me,[50]Lady, do you loue, to marry after, or would you marry, to loue after.
Beau.I would meete loue and marriage both at once.
Bell.Why then you are out of the fashion, and wilbe contemn’d; for (Ile assure you) there are few women i’th world,[55]but either they haue married first, and loue after, or loue first, and marryed after: you must do as you may, not as you would: your fathers will is the Goale you must fly to: if a husband approach you, you would haue further off, is he your loue? the lesse neere you. A husband in these days is but a[60]cloake to bee oftner layde vpon your bed, then in your bed.
Baum.Humpe.
Bell.Sometimes you may weare him on your shoulder, now and then vnder your arme: but seldome or neuer let him[65]couer you: for ’tis not the fashion.