Exit.Rom.A dullDutchrather: fall and coole (my blood)Boyle not in zeal of thy friends hurt, so high,That is so low, and cold himselfe in’t. Woman,How strong art thou, how easily beguild?[500]How thou dost racke vs by the very hornes?Now wealth I see change manners and the man:Something I must doe mine owne wrath to asswage,And note my friendship to an after-age.Exit.Actus quartus.Scaena prima.[A Room in Nouall’s House]Enter Nouall Iunior, as newly dressed, a Taylor, Barber, Perfumer, Liladam, Aymour, Page.Nou.Mend this a little: pox! thou hast burnt me. ohfie vpon’t, O Lard, hee has made me smell (for all the world) like a flaxe, or a red headed womans chamber: powder, powder, powder.Perf.Oh sweet Lord![5]Nouall sits in a chaire,Page.That’s his Perfumer.Barber orders his haire,Tayl.Oh deare Lord,Perfumer giues powder,Page.That’s his Taylor.Taylor sets his clothese.Nou.MonsieurLiladam,Aymour, how allow you the modell of these clothes?[10]Aym.Admirably, admirably, oh sweet Lord! assuredly it’s pity the wormes should eate thee.Page.Here’s a fine Cell; a Lord, a Taylor, a Perfumer, a Barber, and a paire of Mounsieurs: 3 to 3, as little will in the one, as honesty in the other. S’foote ile into the country againe,[15]learne to speake truth, drinke Ale, and conuerse with my fathers Tenants; here I heare nothing all day, but vpon my soule as I am a Gentleman, and an honest man.Aym.I vow and affirme, your Taylor must needs be an expert[20]Geometrician, he has the Longitude, Latitude, Altitude, Profundity, euery Demension of your body, so exquisitely,here’s a lace layd as directly, as if truth were a Taylor.Page.That were a miracle.[25]Lila.With a haire breadth’s errour, ther’s a shoulder piece cut, and the base of a pickadille inpuncto.Aym.You are right, Mounsieur his vestaments fit: as if they grew vpon him, or art had wrought ’em on the same loome, as nature fram’d his Lordship as if your Taylor were[30]deepely read in Astrology, and had taken measure of your honourable body, with aIacobsstaffe, anEphimerides.Tayl.I am bound t’ee Gentlemen.Page.You are deceiu’d, they’ll be bound to you, you must[35]remember to trust ’em none.Nou.Nay, fayth, thou art a reasonable neat Artificer, giue the diuell his due.Page.I, if hee would but cut the coate according to the cloth still.[40]Nou.I now want onely my misters approbation, who is indeed, the most polite punctuall Queene of dressing in allBurgundy. Pah, and makes all other young Ladies appeare, as if they came from boord last weeke out of the country, Is’t not true, Liladam?[45]Lila.True my Lord, as if any thing your Lordship could say, could be othewrisethen true.Nou.Nay, a my soule, ’tis so, what fouler obiect in the world, then to see a young faire, handsome beauty, vnhandsomely dighted and incongruently accoutred; or a hopefull[50]Cheualier, vnmethodically appointed, in the externall ornaments of nature? For euen as the Index tels vs the contents of stories, and directs to the particular Chapters, euen so does the outward habit and superficiall order of garments(in man or woman) giue vs a tast of the spirit, and demonstratiuely[55]poynt (as it were a manuall note from the margin) all the internall quality, and habiliment of the soule, and there cannot be a more euident, palpable, grosse manifestation of poore degenerate dunghilly blood, and breeding, then rude, vnpolish’d, disordered and slouenly outside.[60]Page.An admirable! lecture. Oh all you gallants, that hope to be saued by your cloathes, edify, edify.Aym.By the Lard, sweet Lard, thou deseru’st a pension o’ the State.Page.O th’ Taylors, two such Lords were able to spread[65]Taylors ore the face of a whole kingdome.Nou.Pox a this glasse! it flatters, I could find in my heart to breake it.Page.O saue the glasse my Lord, and breake their heads, they are the greater flatterers I assure you.[70]Aym.Flatters, detracts, impayres, yet put it by,Lest thou deare Lord (Narcissus-like) should doateVpon thyselfe, and dye; and rob the worldOf natures copy, that she workes forme by.Lila.Oh that I were the Infanta Queene of Europe,[75]Who (but thy selfe sweete Lord) shouldst marry me.Nou.I marry? were there a Queene oth’ world, not I.Wedlocke? no padlocke, horselocke, I weare spurrs(He capers.To keepe it off my heeles; yet myAymour,Like a free wanton iennet i’th meddows,[80]I looke aboute, and neigh, take hedge and ditch,Feede in my neighbours pastures, picke my choyceOf all their faire-maind-mares: but married once,A man is stak’d, or pown’d, and cannot grazeBeyond his owne hedge.Enter Pontalier, and Malotin.Pont.I haue waited, sir,[85]Three hours to speake w’ee, and not take it well,Such magpies are admitted, whilst I daunceAttendance.Lila.Magpies? what d’ee take me for?Pont.A long thing with a most vnpromising face.Aym.I’ll ne’re aske him what he takes me for?Mal.Doe not, sir,[90]For hee’l goe neere to tell you.Pont.Art not thouA Barber Surgeon?Barb.Yes sira why.Pont.My Lord is sorely troubled with two scabs.Lila.Aym.Humph—Pont.I prethee cure him of ’em.Nou.Pish: no more,[95]Thy gall sure’s ouer throwne; these are my Councell,And we were now in serious discourse.Pont.Of perfume and apparell, can you riseAnd spend 5 houres in dressing talke, with these?Nou.Thou ’idst haue me be a dog: vp, stretch and shake,[100]And ready for all day.Pont.Sir, would you beMore curious in preseruing of your honour.Trim, ’twere more manly. I am come to wakeYour reputation, from this lethargyYou let it sleep in, to perswade, importune,[105]Nay, to prouoke you, sir, to call to accountThis CollonellRomont, for the foule wrongWhich like a burthen, he hath layd on you,And like a drunken porter, you sleepe vnder.’Tis all the towne talkes, and beleeue, sir,[110]If your tough sense persist thus, you are vndone,Vtterly lost, you will be scornd and baffledBy euery Lacquay; season now your youth,With one braue thing, and it shall keep the odourEuen to your death, beyond, and on your Tombe,[115]Sent like sweet oyles and Frankincense; sir, this lifeWhich once you sau’d, I ne’re since counted mine,I borrow’d it of you; and now will pay it;I tender you the seruice of my swordTo beare your challenge, if you’ll write, your fate:[120]Ile make mine owne: what ere betide you, IThat haue liu’d by you, by your side will dye.Nou.Ha, ha, would’st ha’ me challenge pooreRomont?Fight with close breeches, thou mayst think I dare not.Doe not mistake me (cooze) I am very valiant,[125]But valour shall not make me such an Asse.What vse is there of valour (now a dayes?)’Tis sure, or to be kill’d, or to be hang’d.Fight thou as thy minde moues thee, ’tis thy trade,Thou hast nothing else to doe; fight withRomont?[130]No i’le not fight vnder a Lord.Pont.Farewell, sir,I pitty you.Such louing Lords walke their dead honours graues,For no companions fit, but fooles and knaues.ComeMalotin.Exeunt Pont. Mal.Enter Romont.Lila.’Sfoot,Colbran, the low gyant.[135]Aym.He has brought a battaile in his face, let’s goe.Page.Colbrand’ee call him? hee’l make some of you smoake,I beleeue.Rom.By your leaue, sirs.Aym.Are you a Consort?Rom.D’ee take meeFor a fidler? ya’re deceiu’d: Looke. Ile pay you.Kickes ’em.Page.It seemes he knows you one, he bumfiddles you so.[140]Lila.Was there euer so base a fellow?Aym.A rascall?Lila.A most vnciuill Groome?Aym.Offer to kicke a Gentleman, in a Noblemans chamber? A pox of your manners.[145]Lila.Let him alone, let him alone, thou shalt lose thy arme, fellow: if we stirre against thee, hang vs.Page.S’foote, I thinke they haue the better on him, though they be kickd, they talke so.Lila.Let’s leaue the mad Ape.[150]Nou.Gentlemen.Lilad.Nay, my Lord, we will not offer to dishonour you so much as to stay by you, since hee’s alone.Nou.Harke you.Aym.We doubt the cause, and will not disparage you, so[155]much as to take your Lordships quarrel in hand. Plague on him, how he has crumpled our bands.Page.Ile eene away with ’em, for this souldier beates man, woman, and child.Exeunt. Manent Nou. Rom.Nou.What meane you, sir? My people.Rom.Your boye’s gone.(Lockes the doore.[160]And doore’s lockt, yet for no hurt to you,But priuacy: call vp your blood againe, sir,Be not affraid, I do beseach you, sir,(And therefore come) without, more circumstanceTell me how farre the passages haue gone[165]’Twixt you and your faire MistresseBeaumelle,Tell me the truth, and by my hope of HeauenIt neuer shall goe further.Nou.Tell you why sir?Are you my confessor?Rom.I will be your confounder, if you doe not.(Drawes a pocket dag.[170]Stirre not, nor spend your voyce.Nou.What will you doe?Rom.Nothing but lyne your brayne-pan, sir, with lead,If you not satisfie me suddenly,I am desperate of my life, and command yours.Nou.Hold, hold, ile speake. I vow to heauen and you,[175]Shee’s yet vntouch’t, more then her face and hands:I cannot call her innocent; for I yeeldOn my sollicitous wrongs she consentedWhere time and place met oportunityTo grant me all requests.Rom.But may I build[180]On this assurance?Nou.As vpon your fayth.Rom.Write this, sir, nay you must.Drawes Inkehorne and paper.Nou.Pox of this Gunne.Rom.Withall, sir, you must sweare, and put your oathVnder your hand, (shake not) ne’re to frequentThis Ladies company, nor euer send[185]Token, or message, or letter, to inclineThis (too much prone already) yeelding Lady.Nou.’Tis done, sir.Rom.Let me see, this first is right,And heere you wish a sudden death may lightVpon your body, and hell take your soule,[190]If euer more you see her, but by chance,Much lesse allure. Now, my Lord, your hand.Nou.My hand to this?Rom.Your heart else I assure you.Nou.Nay, there ’tis.Rom.So keepe this last articleOf your fayth giuen, and stead of threatnings, sir,[195]The seruice of my sword and life is yours:But not a word of it, ’tis Fairies treasure;Which but reueal’d, brings on the blabbers, ruine.Vse your youth better, and this excellent formeHeauen hath bestowed vpon you. So good morrow to your Lordship.[200]Nou.Good diuell to your rogueship. No man’s safe:Ile haue a Cannon planted in my chamber,(Exit.Against such roaring roagues.Enter Bellapert.Bell.My Lord awayThe Coach stayes: now haue your wish, and iudge,If I haue been forgetfull.Nou.Ha?Bell.D’ee stand[205]Humming and hawing now?Exit.Nou.Sweet wench, I come.Hence feare,I swore, that’s all one, my next oath ’ile keepeThat I did meane to breake, and then ’tis quit.No paine is due to louers periury.[210]If loue himselfe laugh at it, so will I.Exit Nouall.Scaena 2.Enter Charaloys, Baumont.[An outer Room in Aymer’s House]Bau.I grieue for the distaste, though I haue manners,Not to inquire the cause, falne out betweeneYour Lordship andRomont.Cha.I loue a friend,So long as he continues in the boundsPrescrib’d by friendship, but when he vsurpes[5]Too farre on what is proper to my selfe,And puts the habit of a Gouernor on,I must and will preserue my liberty.But speake of something, else this is a theameI take no pleasure in: what’s thisAymeire,[10]Whose voyce for Song, and excellent knowledge inThe chiefest parts of Musique, you bestowSuch prayses on?Bau.He is a Gentleman,(For so his quality speakes him) well receiu’dAmong our greatest Gallants; but yet holds[15]His maine dependance from the young LordNouall:Some tricks and crotchets he has in his head,As all Musicians haue, and more of himI dare not author: but when you haue heard him,I may presume, your Lordship so will like him,[20]That you’l hereafter be a friend to Musique.Cha.I neuer was an enemy to’t,Baumont,Nor yet doe I subscribe to the opinionOf those old Captaines, that thought nothing musicall,But cries of yeelding enemies, neighing of horses,[25]Clashing of armour, lowd shouts, drums, and trumpets:Nor on the other side in fauour of it,Affirme the world was made by musicall discord,Or that the happinesse of our life consistsIn a well varied note vpon the Lute:[30]I loue it to the worth of it, and no further.But let vs see this wonder.Bau.He preuentsMy calling of him.Aym.Let the Coach be brought(Enter Aymiere.To the backe gate, and serue the banquet vp:My good LordCharalois, I thinke my house[35]Much honor’d in your presence.Cha.To haue meanesTo know you better, sir, has brought me hitherA willing visitant, and you’l crowne my welcomeIn making me a witnesse to your skill,Which crediting from others I admire.[40]Aym.Had I beene one houre sooner made acquaintedWith your intent my Lord, you should haue found meBetter prouided: now such as it is,Pray you grace with your acceptance.Bau.You are modest.Begin the last new ayre.Cha.Shall we not see them?[45]Aym.This little distance from the instrumentsWill to your eares conuey the harmonyWith more delight.Cha.Ile not consent.Aym.Y’are tedious,By this meanes shall I with one banquet pleaseTwo companies, those within and these Guls heere.[50]Song aboue.Musique and a Song, Beaumelle within—ha, ha, ha.Cha.How’s this? It is my Ladies laugh! most certaineWhen I first pleas’d her, in this merry language,She gaue me thanks.Bau.How like you this?Cha.’Tis rare,Yet I may be deceiu’d, and should be sorry[55]Vpon vncertaine suppositions, rashlyTo write my selfe in the blacke list of thoseI haue declaym’d against, and toRomont.Aym.I would he were well of—perhaps your LordshipLikes not these sad tunes, I haue a new Song[60]Set to a lighter note, may please you better;Tis cal’d The happy husband.Cha.Pray sing it.Song below. At the end of the Song, Beaumelle within.Beau.Ha, ha, ’tis such a groome.Cha.Doe I heare this,And yet stand doubtfull?Exit Chara.Aym.Stay him I am vndone,And they discouered.Bau.Whats the matter?Aym.Ah![65]That women, when they are well pleas’d, cannot hold,But must laugh out.Enter Nouall Iu. Charaloys, Beaumley, Bellapert.Nou.Helpe, saue me, murrher, murther.Beau.Vndone foreuer.Cha.Oh, my heart!Hold yet a little—doe not hope to scapeBy flight, it is impossible: though I might[70]On all aduantage take thy life, and iustly;This sword, my fathers sword, that nere was drawne,But to a noble purpose, shall not nowDoe th’ office of a hangman, I reserue itTo right mine honour, not for a reuenge[75]So poore, that though with thee, it should cut offThy family, with all that are allyedTo thee in lust, or basenesse, ’twere still short ofAll termes of satisfaction. Draw.Nou.I dare not,I haue already done you too much wrong,[80]To fight in such a cause.Cha.Why, darest thou neytherBe honest, coward, nor yet valiant, knaue?In such a cause come doe not shame thy selfe:Such whose bloods wrongs, or wrong done to themseluesCould neuer heate, are yet in the defence[85]Of their whores, daring looke on her againe.You thought her worth the hazard of your soule,And yet stand doubtfull in her quarrell, toVenture your body.Bau.No, he feares his cloaths,More then his fleshCha.Keepe from me, garde thy life,[90]Or as thou hast liu’d like a goate, thou shaltDye like a sheepe.Nou.Since ther’s no remedy(They fight, Nouall is slaine.Despaire of safety now in me proue courage.Cha.How soone weak wrong’s or’throwne! lend me your hand,Beare this to the Caroach—come, you haue taught me[95]To say you must and shall: I wrong you not,Y’are but to keepe him company you loue.Is’t done? ’tis well. Raise officers, and take care,All you can apprehend within the houseMay be forth comming. Do I appeare much mou’d?[100]Bau.No, sir.Cha.My griefes are now, Thus to be borne.Hereafter ile finde time and place to mourne.Exeunt.Scaena 3.Enter Romont, Pontalier.[A Street]Pont.I was bound to seeke you, sir.Rom.And had you found meIn any place, but in the streete, I shouldHaue done,—not talk’d to you. Are you the Captaine?The hopefullPontalier? whom I haue seeneDoe in the field such seruice, as then made you[5]Their enuy that commanded, here at homeTo play the parasite to a gilded knaue,And it may be the Pander.Pont.Without thisI come to call you to account, for whatIs past already. I by your example[10]Of thankfulnesse to the dead GenerallBy whom you were rais’d, haue practis’d to be soTo my good LordNouall, by whom I liue;Whose least disgrace that is, or may be offred,With all the hazzard of my life and fortunes,[15]I will make good on you, or any man,That has a hand in’t; and since you allowe meA Gentleman and a souldier, there’s no doubtYou will except against me. You shall meeteWith a faire enemy, you vnderstand[20]The right I looke for, and must haue.Rom.I doe,And with the next dayes sunne you shall heare from me.
Exit.
Rom.A dullDutchrather: fall and coole (my blood)Boyle not in zeal of thy friends hurt, so high,That is so low, and cold himselfe in’t. Woman,How strong art thou, how easily beguild?[500]How thou dost racke vs by the very hornes?Now wealth I see change manners and the man:Something I must doe mine owne wrath to asswage,And note my friendship to an after-age.
Exit.
[A Room in Nouall’s House]
Enter Nouall Iunior, as newly dressed, a Taylor, Barber, Perfumer, Liladam, Aymour, Page.
Nou.Mend this a little: pox! thou hast burnt me. ohfie vpon’t, O Lard, hee has made me smell (for all the world) like a flaxe, or a red headed womans chamber: powder, powder, powder.
Perf.Oh sweet Lord![5]
Nouall sits in a chaire,
Page.That’s his Perfumer.
Barber orders his haire,
Tayl.Oh deare Lord,
Perfumer giues powder,
Page.That’s his Taylor.
Taylor sets his clothese.
Nou.MonsieurLiladam,Aymour, how allow you the modell of these clothes?[10]
Aym.Admirably, admirably, oh sweet Lord! assuredly it’s pity the wormes should eate thee.
Page.Here’s a fine Cell; a Lord, a Taylor, a Perfumer, a Barber, and a paire of Mounsieurs: 3 to 3, as little will in the one, as honesty in the other. S’foote ile into the country againe,[15]learne to speake truth, drinke Ale, and conuerse with my fathers Tenants; here I heare nothing all day, but vpon my soule as I am a Gentleman, and an honest man.
Aym.I vow and affirme, your Taylor must needs be an expert[20]Geometrician, he has the Longitude, Latitude, Altitude, Profundity, euery Demension of your body, so exquisitely,here’s a lace layd as directly, as if truth were a Taylor.
Page.That were a miracle.[25]
Lila.With a haire breadth’s errour, ther’s a shoulder piece cut, and the base of a pickadille inpuncto.
Aym.You are right, Mounsieur his vestaments fit: as if they grew vpon him, or art had wrought ’em on the same loome, as nature fram’d his Lordship as if your Taylor were[30]deepely read in Astrology, and had taken measure of your honourable body, with aIacobsstaffe, anEphimerides.
Tayl.I am bound t’ee Gentlemen.
Page.You are deceiu’d, they’ll be bound to you, you must[35]remember to trust ’em none.
Nou.Nay, fayth, thou art a reasonable neat Artificer, giue the diuell his due.
Page.I, if hee would but cut the coate according to the cloth still.[40]
Nou.I now want onely my misters approbation, who is indeed, the most polite punctuall Queene of dressing in allBurgundy. Pah, and makes all other young Ladies appeare, as if they came from boord last weeke out of the country, Is’t not true, Liladam?[45]
Lila.True my Lord, as if any thing your Lordship could say, could be othewrisethen true.
Nou.Nay, a my soule, ’tis so, what fouler obiect in the world, then to see a young faire, handsome beauty, vnhandsomely dighted and incongruently accoutred; or a hopefull[50]Cheualier, vnmethodically appointed, in the externall ornaments of nature? For euen as the Index tels vs the contents of stories, and directs to the particular Chapters, euen so does the outward habit and superficiall order of garments(in man or woman) giue vs a tast of the spirit, and demonstratiuely[55]poynt (as it were a manuall note from the margin) all the internall quality, and habiliment of the soule, and there cannot be a more euident, palpable, grosse manifestation of poore degenerate dunghilly blood, and breeding, then rude, vnpolish’d, disordered and slouenly outside.[60]
Page.An admirable! lecture. Oh all you gallants, that hope to be saued by your cloathes, edify, edify.
Aym.By the Lard, sweet Lard, thou deseru’st a pension o’ the State.
Page.O th’ Taylors, two such Lords were able to spread[65]Taylors ore the face of a whole kingdome.
Nou.Pox a this glasse! it flatters, I could find in my heart to breake it.
Page.O saue the glasse my Lord, and breake their heads, they are the greater flatterers I assure you.[70]
Aym.Flatters, detracts, impayres, yet put it by,Lest thou deare Lord (Narcissus-like) should doateVpon thyselfe, and dye; and rob the worldOf natures copy, that she workes forme by.
Lila.Oh that I were the Infanta Queene of Europe,[75]Who (but thy selfe sweete Lord) shouldst marry me.
Nou.I marry? were there a Queene oth’ world, not I.Wedlocke? no padlocke, horselocke, I weare spurrs(He capers.To keepe it off my heeles; yet myAymour,Like a free wanton iennet i’th meddows,[80]I looke aboute, and neigh, take hedge and ditch,Feede in my neighbours pastures, picke my choyceOf all their faire-maind-mares: but married once,A man is stak’d, or pown’d, and cannot grazeBeyond his owne hedge.
Enter Pontalier, and Malotin.
Pont.I haue waited, sir,[85]Three hours to speake w’ee, and not take it well,Such magpies are admitted, whilst I daunceAttendance.
Lila.Magpies? what d’ee take me for?
Pont.A long thing with a most vnpromising face.
Aym.I’ll ne’re aske him what he takes me for?
Mal.Doe not, sir,[90]For hee’l goe neere to tell you.
Pont.Art not thouA Barber Surgeon?
Barb.Yes sira why.
Pont.My Lord is sorely troubled with two scabs.
Lila.Aym.Humph—
Pont.I prethee cure him of ’em.
Nou.Pish: no more,[95]Thy gall sure’s ouer throwne; these are my Councell,And we were now in serious discourse.
Pont.Of perfume and apparell, can you riseAnd spend 5 houres in dressing talke, with these?
Nou.Thou ’idst haue me be a dog: vp, stretch and shake,[100]And ready for all day.
Pont.Sir, would you beMore curious in preseruing of your honour.Trim, ’twere more manly. I am come to wakeYour reputation, from this lethargyYou let it sleep in, to perswade, importune,[105]Nay, to prouoke you, sir, to call to accountThis CollonellRomont, for the foule wrongWhich like a burthen, he hath layd on you,And like a drunken porter, you sleepe vnder.’Tis all the towne talkes, and beleeue, sir,[110]If your tough sense persist thus, you are vndone,Vtterly lost, you will be scornd and baffledBy euery Lacquay; season now your youth,With one braue thing, and it shall keep the odourEuen to your death, beyond, and on your Tombe,[115]Sent like sweet oyles and Frankincense; sir, this lifeWhich once you sau’d, I ne’re since counted mine,I borrow’d it of you; and now will pay it;I tender you the seruice of my swordTo beare your challenge, if you’ll write, your fate:[120]Ile make mine owne: what ere betide you, IThat haue liu’d by you, by your side will dye.
Nou.Ha, ha, would’st ha’ me challenge pooreRomont?Fight with close breeches, thou mayst think I dare not.Doe not mistake me (cooze) I am very valiant,[125]But valour shall not make me such an Asse.What vse is there of valour (now a dayes?)’Tis sure, or to be kill’d, or to be hang’d.Fight thou as thy minde moues thee, ’tis thy trade,Thou hast nothing else to doe; fight withRomont?[130]No i’le not fight vnder a Lord.
Pont.Farewell, sir,I pitty you.Such louing Lords walke their dead honours graues,For no companions fit, but fooles and knaues.ComeMalotin.
Exeunt Pont. Mal.
Enter Romont.
Lila.’Sfoot,Colbran, the low gyant.[135]
Aym.He has brought a battaile in his face, let’s goe.
Page.Colbrand’ee call him? hee’l make some of you smoake,I beleeue.
Rom.By your leaue, sirs.
Aym.Are you a Consort?
Rom.D’ee take meeFor a fidler? ya’re deceiu’d: Looke. Ile pay you.
Kickes ’em.
Page.It seemes he knows you one, he bumfiddles you so.[140]
Lila.Was there euer so base a fellow?
Aym.A rascall?
Lila.A most vnciuill Groome?
Aym.Offer to kicke a Gentleman, in a Noblemans chamber? A pox of your manners.[145]
Lila.Let him alone, let him alone, thou shalt lose thy arme, fellow: if we stirre against thee, hang vs.
Page.S’foote, I thinke they haue the better on him, though they be kickd, they talke so.
Lila.Let’s leaue the mad Ape.[150]
Nou.Gentlemen.
Lilad.Nay, my Lord, we will not offer to dishonour you so much as to stay by you, since hee’s alone.
Nou.Harke you.
Aym.We doubt the cause, and will not disparage you, so[155]much as to take your Lordships quarrel in hand. Plague on him, how he has crumpled our bands.
Page.Ile eene away with ’em, for this souldier beates man, woman, and child.
Exeunt. Manent Nou. Rom.
Nou.What meane you, sir? My people.
Rom.Your boye’s gone.(Lockes the doore.[160]And doore’s lockt, yet for no hurt to you,But priuacy: call vp your blood againe, sir,Be not affraid, I do beseach you, sir,(And therefore come) without, more circumstanceTell me how farre the passages haue gone[165]’Twixt you and your faire MistresseBeaumelle,Tell me the truth, and by my hope of HeauenIt neuer shall goe further.
Nou.Tell you why sir?Are you my confessor?
Rom.I will be your confounder, if you doe not.(Drawes a pocket dag.[170]Stirre not, nor spend your voyce.
Nou.What will you doe?
Rom.Nothing but lyne your brayne-pan, sir, with lead,If you not satisfie me suddenly,I am desperate of my life, and command yours.
Nou.Hold, hold, ile speake. I vow to heauen and you,[175]Shee’s yet vntouch’t, more then her face and hands:I cannot call her innocent; for I yeeldOn my sollicitous wrongs she consentedWhere time and place met oportunityTo grant me all requests.
Rom.But may I build[180]On this assurance?
Nou.As vpon your fayth.
Rom.Write this, sir, nay you must.
Drawes Inkehorne and paper.
Nou.Pox of this Gunne.
Rom.Withall, sir, you must sweare, and put your oathVnder your hand, (shake not) ne’re to frequentThis Ladies company, nor euer send[185]Token, or message, or letter, to inclineThis (too much prone already) yeelding Lady.
Nou.’Tis done, sir.
Rom.Let me see, this first is right,And heere you wish a sudden death may lightVpon your body, and hell take your soule,[190]If euer more you see her, but by chance,Much lesse allure. Now, my Lord, your hand.
Nou.My hand to this?
Rom.Your heart else I assure you.
Nou.Nay, there ’tis.
Rom.So keepe this last articleOf your fayth giuen, and stead of threatnings, sir,[195]The seruice of my sword and life is yours:But not a word of it, ’tis Fairies treasure;Which but reueal’d, brings on the blabbers, ruine.Vse your youth better, and this excellent formeHeauen hath bestowed vpon you. So good morrow to your Lordship.[200]
Nou.Good diuell to your rogueship. No man’s safe:Ile haue a Cannon planted in my chamber,(Exit.Against such roaring roagues.
Enter Bellapert.
Bell.My Lord awayThe Coach stayes: now haue your wish, and iudge,If I haue been forgetfull.
Nou.Ha?
Bell.D’ee stand[205]Humming and hawing now?
Exit.
Nou.Sweet wench, I come.Hence feare,I swore, that’s all one, my next oath ’ile keepeThat I did meane to breake, and then ’tis quit.No paine is due to louers periury.[210]If loue himselfe laugh at it, so will I.
Exit Nouall.
Enter Charaloys, Baumont.
[An outer Room in Aymer’s House]
Bau.I grieue for the distaste, though I haue manners,Not to inquire the cause, falne out betweeneYour Lordship andRomont.
Cha.I loue a friend,So long as he continues in the boundsPrescrib’d by friendship, but when he vsurpes[5]Too farre on what is proper to my selfe,And puts the habit of a Gouernor on,I must and will preserue my liberty.But speake of something, else this is a theameI take no pleasure in: what’s thisAymeire,[10]Whose voyce for Song, and excellent knowledge inThe chiefest parts of Musique, you bestowSuch prayses on?
Bau.He is a Gentleman,(For so his quality speakes him) well receiu’dAmong our greatest Gallants; but yet holds[15]His maine dependance from the young LordNouall:Some tricks and crotchets he has in his head,As all Musicians haue, and more of himI dare not author: but when you haue heard him,I may presume, your Lordship so will like him,[20]That you’l hereafter be a friend to Musique.
Cha.I neuer was an enemy to’t,Baumont,Nor yet doe I subscribe to the opinionOf those old Captaines, that thought nothing musicall,But cries of yeelding enemies, neighing of horses,[25]Clashing of armour, lowd shouts, drums, and trumpets:Nor on the other side in fauour of it,Affirme the world was made by musicall discord,Or that the happinesse of our life consistsIn a well varied note vpon the Lute:[30]I loue it to the worth of it, and no further.But let vs see this wonder.
Bau.He preuentsMy calling of him.
Aym.Let the Coach be brought(Enter Aymiere.To the backe gate, and serue the banquet vp:My good LordCharalois, I thinke my house[35]Much honor’d in your presence.
Cha.To haue meanesTo know you better, sir, has brought me hitherA willing visitant, and you’l crowne my welcomeIn making me a witnesse to your skill,Which crediting from others I admire.[40]
Aym.Had I beene one houre sooner made acquaintedWith your intent my Lord, you should haue found meBetter prouided: now such as it is,Pray you grace with your acceptance.
Bau.You are modest.Begin the last new ayre.
Cha.Shall we not see them?[45]
Aym.This little distance from the instrumentsWill to your eares conuey the harmonyWith more delight.
Cha.Ile not consent.
Aym.Y’are tedious,By this meanes shall I with one banquet pleaseTwo companies, those within and these Guls heere.[50]
Song aboue.
Musique and a Song, Beaumelle within—ha, ha, ha.
Cha.How’s this? It is my Ladies laugh! most certaineWhen I first pleas’d her, in this merry language,She gaue me thanks.
Bau.How like you this?
Cha.’Tis rare,Yet I may be deceiu’d, and should be sorry[55]Vpon vncertaine suppositions, rashlyTo write my selfe in the blacke list of thoseI haue declaym’d against, and toRomont.
Aym.I would he were well of—perhaps your LordshipLikes not these sad tunes, I haue a new Song[60]Set to a lighter note, may please you better;Tis cal’d The happy husband.
Cha.Pray sing it.
Song below. At the end of the Song, Beaumelle within.
Beau.Ha, ha, ’tis such a groome.
Cha.Doe I heare this,And yet stand doubtfull?
Exit Chara.
Aym.Stay him I am vndone,And they discouered.
Bau.Whats the matter?
Aym.Ah![65]That women, when they are well pleas’d, cannot hold,But must laugh out.
Enter Nouall Iu. Charaloys, Beaumley, Bellapert.
Nou.Helpe, saue me, murrher, murther.
Beau.Vndone foreuer.
Cha.Oh, my heart!Hold yet a little—doe not hope to scapeBy flight, it is impossible: though I might[70]On all aduantage take thy life, and iustly;This sword, my fathers sword, that nere was drawne,But to a noble purpose, shall not nowDoe th’ office of a hangman, I reserue itTo right mine honour, not for a reuenge[75]So poore, that though with thee, it should cut offThy family, with all that are allyedTo thee in lust, or basenesse, ’twere still short ofAll termes of satisfaction. Draw.
Nou.I dare not,I haue already done you too much wrong,[80]To fight in such a cause.
Cha.Why, darest thou neytherBe honest, coward, nor yet valiant, knaue?In such a cause come doe not shame thy selfe:Such whose bloods wrongs, or wrong done to themseluesCould neuer heate, are yet in the defence[85]Of their whores, daring looke on her againe.You thought her worth the hazard of your soule,And yet stand doubtfull in her quarrell, toVenture your body.
Bau.No, he feares his cloaths,More then his flesh
Cha.Keepe from me, garde thy life,[90]Or as thou hast liu’d like a goate, thou shaltDye like a sheepe.
Nou.Since ther’s no remedy(They fight, Nouall is slaine.Despaire of safety now in me proue courage.
Cha.How soone weak wrong’s or’throwne! lend me your hand,Beare this to the Caroach—come, you haue taught me[95]To say you must and shall: I wrong you not,Y’are but to keepe him company you loue.Is’t done? ’tis well. Raise officers, and take care,All you can apprehend within the houseMay be forth comming. Do I appeare much mou’d?[100]
Bau.No, sir.
Cha.My griefes are now, Thus to be borne.Hereafter ile finde time and place to mourne.
Exeunt.
Enter Romont, Pontalier.
[A Street]
Pont.I was bound to seeke you, sir.
Rom.And had you found meIn any place, but in the streete, I shouldHaue done,—not talk’d to you. Are you the Captaine?The hopefullPontalier? whom I haue seeneDoe in the field such seruice, as then made you[5]Their enuy that commanded, here at homeTo play the parasite to a gilded knaue,And it may be the Pander.
Pont.Without thisI come to call you to account, for whatIs past already. I by your example[10]Of thankfulnesse to the dead GenerallBy whom you were rais’d, haue practis’d to be soTo my good LordNouall, by whom I liue;Whose least disgrace that is, or may be offred,With all the hazzard of my life and fortunes,[15]I will make good on you, or any man,That has a hand in’t; and since you allowe meA Gentleman and a souldier, there’s no doubtYou will except against me. You shall meeteWith a faire enemy, you vnderstand[20]The right I looke for, and must haue.
Rom.I doe,And with the next dayes sunne you shall heare from me.