The history of Antonio and Mellida. The first part. As it hath beene sundry times acted, by the children of Paules. Written by I.M.

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Title
The history of Antonio and Mellida. The first part. As it hath beene sundry times acted, by the children of Paules. Written by I.M.
Author
Marston, John, 1575?-1634.
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London :: Printed [by R. Bradock] for Mathewe Lownes, and Thomas Fisher, and are to be soulde in Saint Dunstans Church-yarde,
1602.
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"The history of Antonio and Mellida. The first part. As it hath beene sundry times acted, by the children of Paules. Written by I.M." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A07063.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed June 8, 2024.

Pages

ACTVS TERTIVS. (Book 3)

¶Enter Andrugio in armour, Lucio with a sheepeheard gowne in his hand, and a Page.
Andr.
IS not yon gleame, the shuddering morne that flakes, With siluer tinctur, the east vierge of heauen?
Lu.
I thinke it is, so please your excellence.
Andr.
Away, I haue no excellence to please. Pree the obserue the custome of the world, That onely flatters greatnesse, States exalts. And please my excellence! O Lucio. Thou hast bin euer held respected deare, Euen pretious to Andrugios in most loue. Good, flatter not. Nay, if thou giu'st not faith That I am wretched, O read that, read that.

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Piero Sforza, to the Italian Princes, fortune.

EXCELLENT, the iust ouerthrowe, Andrugio tooke in the Venetian gulfe, hath so assured the Geno∣waies of the iustice of his cause, and the hatefulnesse of his person, that they haue banisht him and all his family: and, for confirmation of their peace with vs, haue vowed, that if he, or his sonne, can be attached, to send vs both their heads. Wee therefore, by force of our vnited league, forbid you to harbour him, or his blood: but if you apprehend his person, we intreat you to send him, or his head, to vs. For wee vowe by the honour of our blood, to recompence any man that bringeth his head, with twentie thousand double Pistolets, and the indeering to our choysest loue.

From Venice: PIERO SFORZA.

Andr.
My thoughts are fixt in contemplation Why this huge earth, this monstrous animal, That eates her children, should not haue eyes & ears. Philosophie maintaines that Natur's wise, And formes no vselesse or vnperfect thing. Did Nature make the earth, or the earth Nature? For earthly durt makes all things, makes the man, Moulds me vp honour; and like a cunning Dutchmā, Paints me a puppit euen with seeming breath, And giues a sot appearance of a soule, Goe to, goe to; thou liest Philosophy.

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Nature formes things vnperfect, vselesse, vaine. Why made she not the earth with eyes and eares? That she might see desert, and heare mens plaints: That when a soule is splitted, sunke with griefe, He might fall thus, vpon the breast of earth; And in her eare, halloo his misery: Exclaming thus. O thou all bearing earth, Which men doe gape for, till thou cramst their mouths, And choakst their throts with dust: O chaune thy brest, And let me sinke into thee. Looke who knocks; Andrugio cals. But O, she's deafe and blinde. A wretch, but leane reliefe on earth can finde.
Lu.
Sweet Lord, abandon passion, and disarme. Since by the fortune of the tumbling sea, We are rowl'd vp, vpon the Venice marsh, Lets clip all fortune, least more lowring fate
And.
More lowring fate? O Lucio, choak that breath. Now I defie chaunce. Fortunes browe hath frown'd, Euen to the vtmost wrinkle it can bend: Her venom's spit. Alas, what country rests, What sonne, what comfort that she can depriue? Tryumphes not Venice in my ouerthrow? Gapes not my natiue country for my blood? Lies not my sonne tomb'd in the swelling maine? And yet more lowring fate? There's nothing left Vnto Andrugio, but Andrugio: And that nor mischief, force, distresse, nor hel can take. Fortune my fortunes, not my minde shall shake.
Lu.
Speake like your selfe: but giue me leaue, my Lord, To wish your safetie. If you are but seene,

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Your armes display you; therefore put them off, And take
And.
Would'st thou haue me go vnarm'd among my foes? Being besieg'd by passion, entring lists, To combat with despaire and mightie griefe: My soule beleaguerd with the crushing strength Of sharpe impatience. Ha Lucio, goe vnarm'd? Come soule, resume the valour of thy brith; My selfe, my selfe will dare all opposits: Ile muster forces, an vnuanquisht power: Cornets of horse shall presse th'vngratefull earth; This hollow wombed masse shall inly grone, And murmur to sustaine the waight of armes: Gastly amazement, with vpstarted haire, Shall hurry on before, and vsher vs, Whil'st trumpets clamour, with a sound of death.
Lu.
Peace, good my Lord, your speach is al too light. Alas, suruey your fortunes, looke what's left Of all your forces, and your vtmost hopes? A weake old man, a Page, and your poore selfe.
And.
Andrugio liues, and a faire cause of armes, Why that's an armie all inuincible. He who hath that, hath a battalion Royal, armour of proofe, huge troups of barbed steeds, Maine squares of pikes, millions of harguebush. O, a faire cause stands firme, and will abide. Legions of Angels fight vpon her side.
Lu.
Then, noble spirit, slide in strange disguise, Vnto some gratious Prince, and soiourne there, Till time, and fortune giue reuenge firme meanes.

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And.
No, ile not trust the honour of a man: Golde is growne great, and makes perfidiousnesse A common water in most Princes Courts: He's in the Chekle-roule: Ile not trust my blood; I know none breathing, but will cogge a dye For twentie thousand double Pistolets. How goes the time?
Luc.

I saw no sunne to day.

And.
No sun wil shine, where poor Andrugio breaths, My soule growes heauie: boy let's haue a song: Weele sing yet, faith, euen despite of fate.
CANTANT.
And.
Tis a good boy, & by my troth, well sung. O, and thou felt'st my griefe, I warrant thee, Thou would'st haue strook diuision to the height; And made the life of musicke breath: hold boy: why so? For Gods sake call me not Andrugio, That I may soone forget what I haue bin. For heauens name, name not Antonio; That I may not remember he was mine. Well, ere yon sunne set, ile shew my selfe my selfe, Worthy my blood. I was a Duke; that's all. No matter whether, but from whence we fall.
Exeunt.
¶Enter Feliche walking, vnbrac't.
Fe.
Castilio? Alberto? Balurdo? none vp? Forobosco? Flattery, nor thou vp yet: Then there's no Courtier stirring: that's firme truth? I cannot sleepe: Feliche seldome rests

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In these court lodgings. I haue walkt all night, To see if the nocturnall court delights Could force me enuie their felicitie: And by plaine troth; I will confesse plaine troth: I enuie nothing, but the Trauense light. O, had it eyes, and eares, and tongues, it might See sport, heare speach of most strange surquedries. O, if that candle-light were made a Poet, He would prooue a rare firking Satyrist, And drawe the core forth of impostum'd sin. Well, I thanke heauen yet, that my content Can enuie nothing, but poore candle-light. As for the other glistering copper spangs, That glisten in the tyer of the Court, Praise God, I eyther hate, or pittie them. Well here ile sleepe till that the sceane of vp Is past at Court. O calme husht rich content, Is there a being blessednesse without thee? How soft thou down'st the couch where thou dost rest, Nectar to life, thou sweet Ambrosian feast.
¶Enter Catilio and his Page: Castilio with a casting bottle of sweete water in his hand, sprinkling himselfe.
Cast.
Am not I a most sweete youth now?
Cat.
Yes, when your throat's perfum'd; your verie words Doe smell of Amber greece. O stay sir, stay; Sprinkle some sweete water to your shooes heeles, That your mistresse may swear you haue a sweet foot.
Cast.
Good, very good, very passing passing good.

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Fel.

Fut, what trebble minikin squeaks there, ha? good? very good, very very good?

Casti.
I will warble to the delicious concaue of my Mistresse eare: and strike her thoughts with The pleasing touch of my voice.
CANTANT.
Cast.
Feliche, health, fortune, mirth, and wine,
Fel.
To thee my loue diuine.
Cast.
I drinke to thee, sweeting.
Fel.
Plague on thee for an Asse.
Cast.

Now thou hast seene the Court; by the perfec∣ction of it, dost not enuie it?

Fel.
I wonder it doth not enuie me. Why man, I haue bene borne vpon the spirits wings, The soules swift Pegasus, the fantasie: And from the height of contemplation, Haue view'd the feeble ioynts men totter on. I enuie none; but hate, or pittie all. For when I viewe, with an intentiue thought, That creature faire; but proud; him rich, but sot: Th'other wittie; but vnmeasured arrogant: Him great; yet boundlesse in ambition: Him high borne; but of base life: to' ther feard; Yet feared feares, and fears most, to be most loued: Him wise; but made a foole for publick vse: Th'other learned, but selfe-opinionate: When I discourse all these, and see my selfe Nor faire, nor rich, nor wittie, great, nor fear'd:

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Yet amply suted, with all full content: Lord, how I clap my hands, and smooth my brow, Rubbing my quiet bosome, tossing vp A gratefull spirit to omnipotence!
Cast.
Ha, ha: but if thou knew'st my happinesse, Thou wouldst euen grate away thy soule to dust, In enuy of my sweete beatitude: I can not sleepe for kisses; I can not rest For Ladies letters, that importune me With such vnused vehemence of loue, Straight to solicit them, that
Feli.
Confusion seize me, but I thinke thou lyest. Why should I not be sought to then aswell? Fut, me thinks, I am as like a man▪ Troth, I haue a good head of haire, a cheeke Not as yet wan'd; a legge, faith, in the full. I ha not a red beard, take not tobacco much: And S'lid, for other parts of manlinesse
Cast.
Pew waw, you nere accourted them in pompe: Put your good parts in presence, gratiously. Ha, and you had, why they would ha come of, sprung To your armes: and su'd, and prai'd, and vow'd; And opened all their sweetnesse to your loue.
Fel.
There are a number of such things, as then Haue often vrg'd me to such loose beliefe: But S'lid you all doe lye, you all doe lie. I haue put on good cloathes, and smugd my face, Strook a faire wench, with a smart speaking eye: Courted in all sorts, blunt, and passionate;

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Had opportunitie put them to the ah: And, by this light, I finde them wondrous chaste, Impregnable; perchance a kisse, or so: But for the rest, O most inexorable.
Cast.
Nay then ifaith, pree thee looke here.
¶Shewes him the superscription of a seeming Letter.
Fel.
To her most esteemed, lou'd, and generous seruant, Sig. Castilio Balthazar. Pree the from whome comes this? faith I must see.
From her that is deuoted to thee, in most priuate sweetes of loue; Rossaline.
Nay, god's my comfort, I must see the rest; I must, sans ceremonie, faith I must.
Feliche takes away the letter by force.
Cast.

O, you spoyle my ruffe, vnset my haire; good away.

Fel.

Item for strait canuas, thirteene pence, halfe penny. Item for an elle and a halfe of taffata to couer your olde canuas dubblet, foureteen shillings, & three pence. S'light, this a tailors bill.

Cast.
In sooth it is the outside of her letter; on which I tooke the copie of a tailors bill.
Dil.

But tis not crost, I am sure of that. Lord haue mercie on him, his credit hath giuen vp the last gaspe. Faith ile leaue him; for hee lookes as melancholy as a wench the first night she

Exit.
Feli.

Honest musk-cod, twill not be so stitched toge∣ther; take that, and that, and belie no Ladies loue: sweare no more by Iesu: this Madam, that Ladie; hence goe, forsweare the presence, trauaile three years

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to bury this bastinado: auoide, puffe paste, auoide.

Cast.

And tell not my Ladie mother. Well, as I am true gentleman, if she had not wild me on her blessing, not to spoyle my face; if I could not finde in my heart to fight, would I might nere eate a Potatoe pye more.

¶Enter Balurdo, backward; Dildo following him with a looking glasse in one hand, & a candle in the other hand: Flauia following him backward, with a looking glasse in one hand, and a candle in the other; Rossaline following her. Balurdo and Rossaline stand setting of faces: and so the Sceane begins.
Fel.

More foole, more rare fooles! O, for time and place, long enough, and large enough, to acte these fooles! Here might be made a rare Scene of folly, if the plat could beare it.

Bal.

By the suger-candy sky, holde vp the glasse higher, that I may see to sweare in fashion. O, one loofe more would ha made them shine; gods neakes, they would haue shone like my mystresse browe. Euen so the Duke frownes for all this Cursond world: oh that gerne kils, it kils. By my golden What's the richest thing about me?

Dil.

Your teeth.

Bal.

By my golden teeth, hold vp; that I may put in: hold vp, I say, that I may see to put on my gloues.

Dil.

O, delicious sweet cheekt master, if you discharge but one glance from the leuell of that set face: O, you will strike a wench; youle make any wench loue you.

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Balur.

By Iesu, I think I am as elegant a Courtier, as How lik'st thou my suite?

Catz.

All, beyond all, no peregal: you are wondred at, for an asse.

Bal.

Well, Dildo, no christen creature shall knowe hereafter, what I will doe for thee heretofore.

Ros.

Here wants a little white, Flauia.

Dil.

I, but master, you haue one little falt; you sleepe open mouth'd.

Ball.

Pewe, thou iestst. In good sadnesse, Ile haue a looking glasse nail'd to the the testarn of the bed, that I may see when I sleep, whether tis so, or not; take heed you lye not: goe to, take heede you lie not.

Fla.

By my troth, you looke as like the princesse, now I, but her lip is lip is a little redder, a very little redder: but by the helpe of Art, or Nature, ere I chāge my perewigge, mine shall be as red.

Fla.

O, I, that face, that eye, that smile, that writhing of your bodie, that wanton dandling of your fan, becoms prethely, so sweethly, tis euen the goodest Ladie that breathes, the most amiable Faith the fringe of your sattin peticote is ript. Good faith madam, they say you are the most bounteous Lady to your women, that euer O most delitious beautie! Good Madam let me kith it.

¶Enter Piero.
Feli.

Rare sport, rare sport! A female foole, and a fe∣male flatterer▪

Ross.

Bodie a mee, the Duke: away the glasse.

Pie.

Take vp your paper, Rossaline.

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Rossa.

Not mine, my Lord.

Pie.

Not yours, my Ladie? Ile see what tis.

Bal.

And how does my sweete mistresse? O Ladie deare, euen as tis an olde say, Tis an old horse can nei∣ther wighy, nor wagge his taile: euen so doe I holde my set face still: euen so, tis a bad courtier that can nei∣ther discourse, nor blow his nose.

Pie.

Meet me at Abrahams, the Iewes, where I bought my Amazons disguise. A shippe lies in the port, ready bound for England; make haste, come priuate.

¶Enter Castilio, Forobosco.

Antonio, Forobosco, Alberto, Feliche, Castilio, Balurdo? run, keepe the Palace, post to the ports, goe to my daugh∣ters chamber: whether now? scud to the Iewes, stay, runne to the gates, stop the gundolets, let none passe the marsh, doe all at once. Antonio? his head, his head. Keep you the Court, the rest stand still, or runne, or goe, or shoute, or search, or scud, or call, or hang, or doe doe doe, su su su, somthing: I know not who who who, what I do do do, nor who who who, where I am.

O trista traditriche, rea, ribalda fortuna, Negando mi vindetta mi causa fera morte,
Fel.

Ha ha ha. I could breake my splene at his im∣patience.

Anto.
Alma & gratiosa fortuna siae fauor evole, Et fortunati siano vnoti del mia dulce Mellida, Mel∣lida.
Mel.
Alas Antonio, I haue lost thy note.

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A number mount my staires; ile straight returne.
Fel.
Antonio, Be not affright, sweete Prince; appease thy feare, Buckle thy spirits vp, put all thy wits In wimble action, or thou art surpriz'd.
Anto.
I care not.
Fel.
Art mad, or desperate? or
Anto.
Both, both, all, all: I pree thee let mee ly; Spight of you all, I can, and I will dy.
Fel.
You are distraught; O, this is madnesse breath.
An.
Each man take hence life, but no man death: Hee's a good fellow, and keepes open house: A thousand thousand waies lead to his gate, To his wide mouth'd porch: when niggard life Hath but one little, little wicket through. We wring our selues into this wretched world, To pule, and weepe, exclaime, to curse and raile, To fret, and ban the fates, to strike the earth As I doe now. Antonio, curse thy birth, And die.
Fel.
Nay, heauens my comfort, now you are peruerse; You know I alwaies lou'd you; pree thee liue. Wilt thou strike deade thy friends, drawe mourning teares
An.
Alas, Feliche, I ha nere a friend; No country, father, brother, kinsman left To weepe my fate, or sigh my funerall: I roule but vp and downe, and fill a seat In the darke caue of dusky misery.
Feli.
Fore heauen, the Duke comes: hold you, take my key,

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Slinke to my chamber, looke you; that is it: There shall you finde a suite I wore at sea: Take it, and slippe away. Nay, pretious, If youle be peeuish, by this light, Ile sweare, Thou rail'dst vpon thy loue before thou dyedst, And call'd her strumpet.
Ant.
Sheele not credit thee.
Fel.
Tut, that's all one: ile defame thy loue; And make thy deade trunke held in vile regard.
Ant.
Wilt needs haue it so? why then Antonio, Viue esperanza, in despetto dell fato.
¶Enter Piero, Galeatzo, Matzagente, Forobosco, Ba∣lurdo, and Castilio, with weapons.
Piero.
O, my sweet Princes, was't not brauely found? Euen there I found the note, euen there it lay. I kisse the place for ioy, that there it lay. This way he went, here let vs make a stand: Ile keepe this gate my selfe: O gallant youth! Ile drinke carouse vnto your countries health,
¶Enter Antonio.
Euen in Antonio's scull.
Bal.

Lord blesse vs: his breath is more fearefull then a Sergeants voice, when he cries; I arrest.

Ant.
Stoppe Antonio, keepe, keepe Antonio.
Piero.
Where, where man, where?
Ant.
Here, here: let me me pursue him downe the marsh.
Pie.
Hold, there's my signet, take a gundelet:

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Bring me his head, his head, and by mine honour, Ile make thee the wealthiest Mariner that breathes.
Anto.
Ile sweate my bloode out, till I haue him safe.
Pie.
Speake heartily ifaith, good Mariner. O, wee will mount in tryumph: soone, at night, Ile set his head vp. Lets thinke where.
Bal.

Vp on his shoulders, that's the fittest place for it. If it be not as fit as if it were made for them; say, Ba∣lurdo, thou art a sot, an asse.

¶Enter Mellida in Pages attire, dauncing.
Pie.
Sprightly, ifaith. In troth he's somwhat like My daughter Mellida: but alas poore soule, Her honour heeles, god knowes, are halfe so light.
Mel.
Escap't I am, spite of my fathers spight.
Pie.
Ho, this will warme my bosome ere I sleepe.
¶Enter Flauia running.
Fla.
O my Lord, your daughter.
Pie.
I, I, my daughter's safe enough, I warrant thee. This vengeance on the boy will lengthen out My daies vnmeasuredly. It shall be chronicled, time to come; Piero Sforza slewe Andrugio's sonne.
Fla.
I, but my Lord, your daughter.
Pie.
I, I, my good wench, she is safe enough.
Fla.
O, then, my Lord, you know she's run away.
Pie.
Run away, away, how run away?
Fla.
She's vanisht in an instante, none knowes whe∣ther.
Pie.
Pursue, pursue, fly, run, post, scud away.
¶Feliche sing; And was not good king Salomon.
Fly, call, run, rowe, ride, cry, shout, hurry, haste:

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Haste, hurry, shoute, cry, ride, rowe, run, call, fly Backward and forward, euery way about. Maldetta fortuna hy condura sorta Che faro, che diro, pur fugir tanto mal!
Cast.
Twas you that struck me euen now: was it not?
Fel.
It was I that struck you euen now.
Cast.
You bastinadoed me, I take it.
Fel.
I bastinadoed you, and you tooke it.
Cast.

Faith sir, I haue the richest Tobacco in the court for you; I would be glad to make you satisfaction, if I haue wronged you. I would not the Sun should set v∣pon your anger; giue me your hand.

Fel.

Content faith, so thou'lt breede no more such lies. I hate not man, but mans lewd qualities.

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