Loves crueltie A tragedy, as it vvas presented by her Majesties Servants, at the private House in Drury Lane. Written by James Shirley Gent.

Actus Tertius.

Enter Sebastian. Boualdo.

Seb.

WE might with more discretion sent for wine▪ To my owne lodgings.

Bo.

Ever while you live drinke wine at the fountaine

Seb.

Here I am not knowne, let no body interrupt us

Bo.

Let it be rich and sparckling, my precious varlet, and how And how go things at Court?

Seb.

After a cup or two Ile tell thee.

Bo.

I would Hippolito were here, hee's a good fellow, and takes After his father, the Duke makes much on him

Seb.

Her'es a good health to him

Bo.

Let it come, I am glad to see you sociable, come to the City and leave purchasing, du••ty acres

Seb.

The same justice that mine had.

Bo.

And it were as deepe as an vsurers conscience, My boy should ha't

Enter Fidler.

Fi.

Wilt please you Gentlemen to heare any musicke.

Bo.

Shall have any?

Seb.

By no meanes, it takes from our owne mirth

Bo.

Be gon then.

Fi.

A very good song, and please you

Bo.

Yet agen, will you have your occupation broke about Your head?

Fi.

Ile make you laugh Gentlemen.

Bo.

Ile make you cry and tune your voyce to the lamentation Of oh my fiddle, if you remove not presently.

Seb.

This is the tricke of Tavernes, when men desire to be private.

Bo.

Come whom shal we now remember? heres to your Mistresse

Seb.

A Mistresse at my yeeres?

Bo.

Till threescore y'are allowd, I never wore more favours at one and twenty, this Riband came from a Countesse, this locke I weare for a young Ladies sake, this touch was the fall of a Gentlewomans fanne that is new come to Court

Seb.

New come to Court? Ile pray for her, is she vertuous?

Bo.

And she be, there is hope the Courtiers may convert her, here's To her first

Enter Iugler.

Iu.

Gentlemen will you see a Iackanapes?

Bo.

How many is there of you?

Seb.

Yet more o'these raskalls?

Iu.

I can shew you very fine tricks

Bo.

Prethee Hocus Pocus, keepe thy grannams huckle bone. And leave us.

Seb.

Presto be gon, or ile teach you a tricke for your Iackanapes Learning, they will be deceiued that choose a Tauerne for privacie

Bo.

Come our blood cooles; here's to your faire daughter

Seb.

Poore girle, I thanke you sir.

Bo.

I do not flatter you, but you may be proud, I say no more

Seb.

Of what?

Bo.

Your daughter, shee's a hansome Gentlewoman, the're be Worse faces at Court;

Seb.

Her complexion is naturall, she has no tricke of art A litle breeding she has had; and some precepts to guard her Honesty

Bo.

Honesty where is it?

Seb.

It should be every where

Bo.

Take heed what you say, least you be made to justifie it

Honesty every where? Heres to you, come.

Seb.

I speake Bonaldo what I thinke, and it would be no Dishonour to the greatest to be the first examples.

Bo.

If all were of your mind who should thrive in this world? Pledge me How shall Christians behave themselves in great offices?

Or under-clarkes purchase honesty? but one terme were enough to undoe the City, the Court were but in ill case if great men should stand upon't, for the Countrey, tis bought and sold every market day.

Come begin to me

Seb.

Name it

Bo.

To the Duke.

Seb.

The Duke, he does not love me

Bo.

How?

Seb.

No Bovaldo he does not,

Bo.

He loves your daughter—

Seb.

Tis not Princely, Nay I shall dare to tell him so, but To his health.

Bo.

Let it come, me thinkes he is a very fine Gentleman,

Seb.

I begin to be warme already.

Bo.

And one that loves a wench as well—

Seb.

As ill thou wodst say?

Bo.

As ill as I, let it be so, I were no good subiect to deny it To his Highnesse.

Seb.

Thou knewest me a Gentleman

Bo.

Are you not so still?

Seb.

No I'me a Knight, a Lord I know not what, I'me lost within a wildernesse of names But I will be my selfe agen—the tother cup.

Bo.

Tis welcome, shall we double our files?

Seb.

This skirmish will doe well

Bo.

Charge me home then.

Seb.

Now I could talke me thinkes. I will not prostitute Eubella for The wealth of his whole Dukedome, ther'es no honor To a noble conscience, he is the greatest coward.

Dares not be honest.

Bo.

Right, if a man dares not be honest he is a Coward But he that dares be dishonest,

Seb.

Dares cut his fathers throat

Bo.

A pretty fellow heres to you agen; shalls have a wench? now am I addicted to embrace any thing in the likenesse of a woman, oh for a Chamber-maide to wrestle withall; send for a brace of Basaliskes, thou hast no spirit no Masculine vertue, now could I o're runne the whole Countrey of the Amazons. Heres to a Penthesilia beare up my valiant Mirmidon and we will do such feates shall make the Troians wonder at our backes and bring Dame Hellen to us.

Seb.

I prethee leave this humor, tis not generous,

Bo.

How not generous take heed what you say

Seb.

I shanot eate my words

Bo.

Then drinke your drinke, Now Troy burnesblew, wheras Hecuba?

Seb.

Thou art all for wenching,

Bo.

Vpon a condition I will drinke to thee

No, no, thou wot not doe so much, and a man should die for a lift a'the leg: the Duke has a great minde to thy daughter, he is but mortall flesh and bloud, there be subjects that have as sound bodies no dispraise to his Excelency.

Seb.

Dee not feare to talke thus?

Bo.

Feare? would any durst send to me such A virgin Pinnace, rigd and gay with all flags.

Seb.

This is uncivilll, and I shall tell Bonaldo

Bo.

Nay nay, thou art so waspish, if a friend desired a curtesie, that is in fashion; because the Duke—

Seb.

Y'are too bold, and forget your selfe, I am Ashamd of this converse; because the Duke? Did his hand graspe the Scepters of the world And would propound e'm all to buy the honor Of my Eubella, I would scorne his salarie And tell him he were poorer in his soule Then he that feedes ith hospitall, I'me armd And shall grow very angry with your humor Which ere it nam'd my daughter carried wickednesse

Enough, but in her cause I am easily Provok'd to teach that tongue repentance dares Traduce her whitnesse, I allow a mirth But do not love this madnesse, and if I Might counsell you, there is a way to quench These wild licencious flames, earnest of those Our soules shall feele hereafter, we are both In yeeres, and should looke out our winding sheet Not women,

Bo.

Boy Ile pay the reckoning; Be honest and see what will Come on't Ile seeke out my sonne Hippolito. Hee'e be ruld by me, here's a coile about a tassell Gentle

Seb.

Hee's drunke already That which has raisd me but to noble anger Is his distraction, theres for your wine Now to the wanton Duke, heaven let him see His shame and know, great men that practise lust Both kill their body and corrupt their dust, Let him fret do what he can, The world shall call, Sebastian honest man.

Exit.

Enter Hippolito.

Hi.

Had I but one thing that did touch on honor My friendship, and is that disea••d already And languishing? was it for this I would not See her that I might trespasse with more guilt When she was married? are not other women As faire and tempting? or am I hurried By violence of my fate to love her best That should be most a stranger? and does she Meet my modest flame? nay must the tapers Sacred to Hymen light us to our sinnes? Lust was too early up in both, oh man Oh woman! that our fires had kissd like lightning Which doth no sooner blaze but is extinct, shee's here.

Enter Clariana and Page.

Cla.

Where's your master?

Pag.

There he is Madam

Cla.

Why do you walke so melancholy sir?

Hi.

I was collecting my selfe about some businesse Must be dispach'd this morning, sirra pray The groome make ready my horse

Cla.

Not yet You do not meane to leave me o'the suddaine? I am alone, my husband is at Court, Pray rob me not of all my company, I shall not thinke upon his absence, with So much sorrow if you make me happy With your society.

Hi.

There's the Divell already, I cannot leave her My boy may go howsoever.

Exit. Page

Cla.

Oh Hippolito If you have usd no charmes but simple courtship, Perhaps you may condemne me in your thoughts That I so soone (not studying the wayes Of cunning to disguise my love, which other Women have practis'd, and would well become The modesty of a wife) declare my selfe At your dispose, but I suspect you have Some command more then Naturall, I have heard There have beene too much witchcraft exercis'd To make poore women dote

Hi.

You are not serious In what you say? I hope you do not take me For such a juggler? if you thinke I practise

Cla.

That looke acquits you, then at my nativity Some powerfull starre raignd, I have heard Astrologers Talke much of Venus

Hi.

And of Mars when they are in coniunction, they encline us mortalls Strangly to love and ly with one another

Cla.

I am ignorant What influence we have from them, but I Am sure, something has strangely wrought on me

Hi.

As how Madam?

Cla.

Why to love, I know not home, You know my meaning, but truth witnesse with me When first I saw your person I gave up My liberty, me thought I lov'd you strangely.

Hi.

I had desires too I could not justifie But knowledge that you were my friends, for that time All loose fires, but love that swaid you, then quenchd And kept your thoughts longing, met with my heart And scald it up for you, yet when I thinke on Bellemente. Theres wrestlings in my blood.

Cla.

Iust when I thinke on him tis so with mine, That love should be so equall, do'st not stirre you Sometimes to thinke of former vowes? Nay I do dreame Sometimes of being surprizd in thy deere armes And then methinkes I weepe, and sigh and wake. With my owne grones.

Hi.

I never dreame of that

Cla.

It is my foolish fancie, yet such feares Should waking never trouble me, those lovers That have not art to hide, and to secure Their amorous thefts, deserve to be reveald:

Hi.

Sure there's no woman in the world but this Could have such power against my friend, each sillable Renewes her force upon me,

Cla.

I beseech you Although a storme hath throwne me on your shore Have not so litle charity to thinke I should accept of safety on another, It is not possible any but your selfe Withall the Magicke of his tongue or fortunes Could bribe me from Bellemente, if I fall For too much loving you, your mercy may Interpret fairely, by these teares

Enter Page and Groome.

Gro.

Sir your horse is ready

Hi.

I shanot go yet, Lady if you please Wee'l walke a turneith Garden.

Eeunt.

Gro-

Harke you my small friend, without offence is not your

Master a —

Pag.

What

Gro.

I would have another word for a whooremaster

Pa.

How my durty rubber of horse heeles

Gro.

Nay I do not say he is, I do but aske, whether he be or no, Be not angry demilance, there be as good gentlemen as he, that love a wench.

Pa.

Why is your Mistresse a wench?

Gro.

My Mistresse you didapper

Pa.

I do not say she is, I do but aske whether she be or no, there be as hansome creatures none dispraisd, that take mony for their warren, have I answerd you my bold Marchant of dung in a wheele barrow?

Gro.

How now Iackalent is shreeds of Satten, I shall swing you with a horse-rod, you whippet

Pa.

Go meddle with your masters Gelding, and cheate him in the provender to keepe you in perpetuall pots of Ale, when you en∣tertaine the Kitchinmaide in the hayloft, talke of my Master?

Gro.

Meddle with my Mistresse?

Pa.

Yes Ile speake to her to allow you a lesse proportion of cleane straw to rubb bootes and ly in sirra, you thinke you are at rack and manger, when you devide beanes with the horses and helpe to foule the stable

Gro.

Sirra whelpe that has eaten knot-grasse, do not provoke me least I fetch a smith and curry your thin sids

Pa.

Mine you beane-shifter, would you durst no better ride booty at the horse match or cosen your Master ith next parcell of Oates, I feare you not my canvas serving-man with halfe a livery, groome othe stable once removd from the farrier.

Enter Hip. Clar.

Clar.

What at difference? Both No not we Madam.

Hi.

Sirra come hither. Entreat my father meet me at Court,

Pa.

I shall sir

Hi.

Theres no hast for my Nag yet.

Exit.

Cla.

About your businesse sira.

Gro.

My businesse is below staires, and with a Gelding, what he

may prove I know not well, what I thinke I will keepe to my selfe, my Lady may be honest enough, but he that is borne to be a Cuckold shall never dy a bachelor.

Exit.

Enter Duke. Eubella.

A Song which done. Enter Sebastian and Courtiers.

Duke My Lord you are welcome

Seb.

Give me leave to tell Your highnesse I suspect it. Why should a Prince dissemble?

Du.

This dialect becomes you not

Seb.

Sir sir I must be honest

Eu.

Father

Seb.

Eubella expresse thy duty To him thou calst a father, for thy owne Sake leave this place, the Court's a fire

Du.

How sir

Seb.

Canst thou not see the flames that threaten thee?

Du.

Sebastian's wild

Seb.

But you would make her tame, looke looke Eubella The Duke himselfe burnes, do not his eyes sparcke With lust, his very breath will blast thee

Eu.

I feare this will be dangerous, good sir,

Seb.

If yet thou hast not lost thy innocence I charge thee, by thy mothers memory And colder ashes, keepe thy selfe unstaind Let no temptation corrupt a thought Th'art richer in thy chastity, then all The Kings of earth can make thee, if thou fall Thou kilst my heart

Du.

All this for thy sake we forbeare to punish, But you should know my Lord

Seb.

Lord me no Lords I grone under the burden of your honors And here resigne all, give me but my daughter

Du.

Let not your passion strangle thus your reason

Seb.

Let not a sinne so blacke as lust degrade A Prince and register thy dishonord name With foule adulteries

Du.

Yare very bold

Seb.

I would preserve the name of our yet honest famil•• I feare she is ore come already, I do not like her silence.

Du.

To take off your feares Although we neede not give you satisfaction, By this white brow, she is as pure as when She came to Court.

Seb.

Oh let Sebstian fall Lower sir, I beseech you tread upon me So you will still be honest to my child, She is all my comfort

Du.

rise.

Seb.

But will you not Hereafter study to betray her innocence? Or give her licence to returne with me? Ile aske no more assurance, grant but this And when we are at home, it shall oblige us Beside the duties we already owe In heart to pray for you

Du.

We are not pleasd, she should depart.

Seb.

Then Ile vnthanke your Goodnesse And dare thus boldy tell your highnesse, lawes Are most unjust that punish petty theeves And let the great ones scape,

Du.

We are yet patient.

Eu.

Deere sir

Seb.

Princes may take our children from us, not To aduance but kill their names, corrupt their vertues; When needy men, that steale to feed their lives Are doo'md to the Gallouse.

Du.

Take the frantick hence.

Seb.

Take hence the ravisher

Cour.

Sebastian.

Seb.

Although he ravish not Eubella From her selfe, yet he does ravish A daughter from her father, and ile voice it Through every streete, I am not bound to whisper When griefes so loud within me.

Du.

Place him where his noise may make his owne headake not others, This liberty of tongue shall be corrected

Seb.

It will but spread thy infamy, when men Shall speake my cause, and thy lasciviousnes Which I will tell so often to the stones The vault shall be ashamd to eccho thee Eubella

Du.

Away with him

Seb.

Do bury me alive, be strong Eubella And let not death by my example shake thee.

Du.

This may incline her, do not weepe Eubella They are not worth a teare, yet tis within Thy power to ransome their bold heads, were they Humbled toth block, this Pitty shewes a child But Princes loose their awe that are too mild.

Bellamente and Servant

Exeunt.

Bel.

Where's your Lady?

Ser.

In her Chamber.

Bel.

Whoe's with her?

Ser.

None but the Gentleman you left here

Bel.

Hippolito? I wonot have so base a thought—Ilt to e'm, Yet, you may go and say I am returnd and wish her presence. Ha? there is something busie with my braine

Exit. Ser.

And in the shape of jealousie presents A thousand feares, they have beene very loving Since we were married; thou soules corrupter Who sent thee to me? to distract my peace, Be gon, be gon, and scatter thy foule seedes▪ Vpon a ground that will be fruitfull to thee. The innocence I carry in my breast Armes me against the thoughts of others treason, My friend, my wife? the very names are sacred And like the heads of Saints, and holy Martyrs Invested with such glorious beames they strike Conspiracy blind, how now, whats in thy face?

Enter Servant.

Ser.

Oh sir?

Bel.

Whats the matter?

Ser.

Would you could understand without my tongue

Bel.

How does thy Lady

Ser.

My Lady is—

Bel.

Ha▪ why dost pause vilaine? answer me

Ser.

Alas I know not with what words to tell you Would I had never seene her, or you never Married her.

Bel.

Ha? stay there, Shall I trust thee now fury? but speake, and Be not tedious, what is my Lady doing upon thy life?

Ser.

Alas sir it will make you madde.

Bel.

Speake or never speake agen, I am prepard

Ser.

Pardon my unhappinesse to deliver then A truth that will distract you, you have now Nor friend nor wife

Bel.

Are they both dead?

Ser.

Yes dead to honor, finding her chamber lockt I know not what did prompt me to make use Of a small cranny, where I beheld em both, I want modest language To tell how they are falne, and yet too soone I know you cannot choose but understand me.

Bel.

How long hast thou beene a Raven?

Ser.

Good sir collect your selfe, Tis my misfortune and no fault to be The sad reporter

Bel.

Do I live still?

Ser.

And shall I hope long

Bel.

Th'art most uncharitable, if thou hadst lou'd Thy master thou wouldst wish him happinesse Which all life denies, is my composition So hard, a sorrow great and high like this Cannot disolve it? wonot my heart breake With this? then melt it some celestiall fire, In pitty of my sufferings some cloud Of raine, since my owne eyes refuse to drowne me, Fall and orewhelme this miserable Iland

Ser.

Sir,

Bel.

Can this be possible? be sure they are Divells Or I shall find such a new hell for thee—

Ser.

I would it were not true

Ser.

I would it were not true

Bel.

Some mercifull whirlewind snatch this burden up And carry it into some wildernesse: Leave not If it were possible the mention Of what I was behind, the wolues are honester Then mankind is to man, I prethee kill me I kneele to be destroyd, it is thy duty; When thou shalt tell the world my wretched story And what soule killing and devouring griefes Thy good hand rid me of, it shall acquit thee And call thy murder charity

Ser.

Good sir

Bel.

O whither shall I runne to find a friend Will do the gentle office to despatch me Without my owne hand?

Ser.

Rather live to take Iustice upon their periuries.

Bel.

Good man. My better Angel how had I forgot My selfe? Coward to thinke of dying yet. Who would put confidence in heaven hereafter. If it should suffer me depart the world Without revenge, and that my owne upon em. Come draw, take my sword, I will be double arm'd▪ I charge thee by 〈◊〉〈◊〉 duty, or thy life If that be more, stay you at bottome of The staires, while I ascend their sinfull chamber And if my Pistoll misse his treacherous heart He has no way to passe but on thy sword, The place gives such advantage that with Safety thou maist command his life. Kill him with losse compunction then a witch Fleas a dead Infant for his skin to perfect A hellish incantation, thou wo't do't?

Ser.

Ile do my best he 〈◊〉〈◊〉 scape

Bel.

Wife, friend, You hang like vlcers on me, I am bound

To cut you from my heart to cure my wound.

Exeunt.