Al fooles a comedy, presented at the Black Fryers, and lately before his Maiestie. Written by George Chapman.

Actus primi.

Scaena prima.

Enter Rynaldo, Fortunio, Valerio.

Ryn.

CAn one selfe cause, in subiects so a like As you two are, produce effect so vnlike? One like the Tu••le, all in mournesull straines, Wailing his fortunes? Th'other like the Larke Mounting the sky in shrill and cheerefull notes, Chaunting his ioyes aspir'd, and both for loue: In one, loue rayseth by his violent heate, Moyst vapours from the heart into the eyes, From whence they drowne his brest in dayly showers; In th'other, his diuided power infuseth Onely a temperate and most kindly warmth, That giues life to those fruites of wit and vertue, Which the vnkinde hand of an vnciuile father, Had almost nipt in the delightsome blossome.

For.

O brother loue rewards our seruices With a most partiall and iniurious hand, If you consider well our different fortunes: Valerio loues, and ioyes the dame he loues: I loue, and neuer can enioy the sight Of her I loue, so farre from conquering In my desires assault, that I can come To lay no battry to the Fort I seeke; All passages to it, so strongly kept, By straite guard of her Father.

Ryn.

I dare sweare, If iust desert in loue measur'd reward, Your fortune should exceede Valerios farre: For I am witnes (being your Bed fellow) Both to the dayly and the nightly seruice,

You doe vnto the d••ty of loue, In vowes, sighes, teares, and solitary watches, He neuer serues him with such sacrifice, Yet hath his Bowe and shaftes at his commaund: Loues seruice is much like our humorous Lords; Where Minions carry more then S••ruitors, The bolde and carelesse seruant still obtaines: The modest and respectiue, nothing gaines; You neuer see your loue, vnlesse in dreames, He, Hymen puts in whole possession: What different starres raign'd when your loues were borne, He forc't to weare the Willow, you the horne? But brother, are you not asham'd to make Your selfe a slaue to the base Lord of loue, Be got of Fancy, and of Beauty borne? And what is Beauty? a meere Quintessence, Whose life is not in being, but in seeming; And therefore is not to all eyes the same, But like a cousoning picture, which one way Shewes like a Crowe, another like a Swanne: And vpon what ground is this Beauty drawne? Vpon a Woman, a most brittle creature, And would to God (for my part) that were all.

Fort.

But tell me brother, did you neuer loue?

Ryn.

You know I did, and was belou'd againe, And that of such a Dame, as all men deem'd Honour'd, and made me happy in her fauours, Exceeding faire she was not; and yet faire In that she neuer studyed to be say••r Then Nature made her; Beauty cost her nothing, Her vertues were so rare, they would haue made An Aethyop beautifull: At least, so thought By such as stood aloofe, and did obserue her With credulous eyes? But what they were indeed Ile spare to blaze, because I lou'd her once, Onely I found her s••, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 for her sake

I vow eternall warres against their whole sexe, Inconstant shuttle-cocks, louing fooles, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉; Men rich in durt, and tytles sooner woone With the most vile, then the most vertuous: Found true to none: if one amongst whole hundred•• Chance to be chaste, she is so proude withall, Way ward and rude, that one of vnchaste life, Is ostentimes approu'd, a worthier wife: Vndressed, sl••ish, nasty, to their husbands, Spung'd vp, adorn'd, and painted to their louers: All day in cesse lesse vprore with their housholdes, If all the night their husbands haue not pleas'd them, Like hounds, most kinde, being beaten and abus'd, Like wolues, most cruell, being kindelyest vs'd.

For.

Fye, thou prophan'st the deity of their sexe.

Ry.

Brother I read, that Aegipt heretofore, Had Temples of the riches frame on earth; Much like this goodly edifice of women, With Alablaster pillers were those Temples, Vphelde and beautified, and so are women: Most curiously glaz'd, and so are women; Cunningly painted too, and so are women; In out-side wondrous heauenly, so are women: But when a stranger view'd those phanes within, In stead of Gods and Goddesses, he should finde A painted fowle, a fury, or a serpent, And such celestiall inner parts haue women.

Val.

Rynaldo, the poore Foxe that lost his tayle, Perswaded others also to loose theirs: Thy selfe, for one perhaps that for desert Or some defect in thy attempts refus'd thee, Reuil'st the whole sexe, beauty, loue and all: I tell thee, Loue, is Natures second sonne, Causing a spring of vertues where he shines, And as without the Sunne, the Worlds great eye, All colours, beauties, both of Arte and Nature,

Are giuen in vaine to men, so without loue All beauties bred in women are in vaine; All vertues borne in men lye buried, For loue informes them as the Sunne doth colours, And as the Sunne reflecting his warme ••eames Against the earth, begets all fruites and flowers: So loue, fayre shining in the inward man, Brings foorth in him the honourable fruites Of valour, wit, vertue, and haughty thoughts, Braue resolution, and diuine discourse: O tis the Paradice, the heauen of earth, And didst thou know the comfort of two hearts, In one delicious harmony vnited? As to ioy one ioy, and thinke both one thought, Liue both one life, and therein double life: To see their soules met at an enter-view In their bright eyes, at parle in their lippes, Their language kisses: And t'obserue the rest, Touches, embraces, and each circumstance Of all loues most vnmatched ceremonies: Thou wouldst abhorre thy tongue for blasphemy, O who can comprehend how sweet loue tastes, But he that hath been present at his feastes?

Ryn.

Are you in that vaine too Valerio? Twere fitter you should be about your charge, How Plow and Cart goes fo••ward: I haue knowne Your ioyes were all imployde in husbandry, Your study was how many loades of hay A meadow of so many acres yeelded; How many Oxen such a close would ••at? And is your rurall seruice now conuerted From Pan to Cupid? and from beastes to women? O if your father knew this, what a lecture Of bitter castigation he would read you?

Val.

My father? why my father? does he thinke To rob me of my selfe? I hope I know

I am a Gentleman, though his couetous humour And education hath transform'd me Bayly, And made me ou••rseer of his pastures, Ile be my selfe, in spight of husbandry.

Enter Gratiana.

And see bright heauen here comes my husbandry, Here shall my cattle graze, here Nectar drinke, Here will I hedge and ditch, here hide my treasure, O poore Fortunio, how wouldst thou tryumph, If thou enioy'dst this happines with my Sister?

For.

I were in heauen if once twere come to that.

Ryn.

And me thinkes tis my heauen that I am past it, And should the wretched Macheuilian, The couetous knight your father see this sight Lusty Valerio.

Val.

Sfoote Sir if he should, He sh••ll perceiue ere long my skill extends To something more, then sweaty husbandry.

Ryn.

Ile beare thee witnes, thou canst skill o•• dice, Cards, tennis, wenching, dauncing, and what not? And this is something more then husbandry: Th'art knowne in Ordinaries, and Tabacco shops, Trusted in Tauernes and in vaulting houses, And this is something more then husbandry: Yet all this while, thy father apprehends thee For the most tame and thriftie Groome in Europe.

For.

Well, he hath venter'd on a mariage Would quite vndoe him, did his father know it.

Ryn.

Know it? alas Sir where can he bestow This poore Gentlewoman he hath made his wife, But his inquisitiue father will heare of it? Who, like the dragon to th'esperean fruite, Is to his haunts? slight hence, the olde knight comes.

Gost.

Rynaldo.

Intrat Gostanzo. Omnes aufugiunt.

Ry.

Whose that calles? what Sir Gostanzo? How fares your Knighthood Sir?

Gost.

Say who was that Shrunke at my entry here? was't not your brother?

Ryn.

He shrunke not sir, his busines call'd him hence.

Gost.

And was it not my sonne that went out with him?

Ryn.

I saw not him, I was in serious speech About a secret busines with my brother.

Gost.

Sure twas my sonne, what made he here? I sent him About affaires to be dispacht in hast.

Ryn.

Well sir, lest silence breed vniust suspect, Ile tell a secret I am sworne to keep, And craue your honoured assistance in it.

Gost.

What ist Rynaldo?

Ryn.

This sir, twas your sonne.

Gost.

And what yong gentlewoman grac'st their company?

Ryn.

Thereon depends the secret I must vtter: That gentle woman hath my brother maryed.

Gost.

Maryed? what is she?

Ryn.

Faith sir, a gentlewoman: But her vnusering dowry must be tolde Out of her beauty.

Gost.

Is it true Rynaldo? And does your father vnderstand so much?

Ryn.

That was the motion sir, I was entreating Your sonne to make to him, because I know He is well spoken, and may much preuaile In satisfying my father, who much loues him, Both for his wisedome and his husbandry.

Gost.

Indeede he's one can tell his tale I tell you, And for his husbandry.

Ryn.

O sir, had you heard, What thrifty discipline he gaue my brother, For making choyce without my fathers knowledge, And without riches, you would haue admyr'd him.

Gost.

Nay, nay, I know him well, but what was it?

Ryn.

That in the choyce of wiues men must respect The chiefe wife, riches, that in euery course

A mans chiefe Load-starre should shine out of riches, Loue nothing hartely in this world but riches; Cast off all friends, all studies, all delights, All honesty, and religion for riches: And many such, which wisedome sure he learn'd Of his experient father; yet my brother, So soothes his rash affection, and presumes So highly on my fathers gentle nature, That he's resolu'd to bring her home to him, And like enough he will.

Gost.

And like enough. Your silly father too, will put it vp, An honest knight, but much too much indulgent To his presuming children.

Ryn.

What a difference Doth 〈◊〉〈◊〉 it selfe, twixt him and you? Had your sonne vs'd you thus?

Gost.

My sonne? alas I hope to bring him vp in other fashion, Followes my husbandry, sets early foote Into the world; he comes not at the citty, Nor knowes the citty Artes.

Ryn.

But dice and wenching.

〈◊〉〈◊〉.

Gost.

Acquaints himselfe with no delight but getting, A perfect patterne of sobriety, Temperance and husbandry to all my housholde, And what's his company I pray? not wenches.

Ryn.

Wenches? I 〈◊〉〈◊〉 besworne he neuer smelt a wenches breath Yet, but me thinkes twere fit you sought him out a wife.

Gost.

A wife Rynaldo? He dares not lookee a woman in the face.

Ryn.

Sfoote holde him to one, your sonne such a sheep?

Gost.

Tis strange in earnest.

Ryn.

Well sir, though for my thriftlesse brothers sake, I little care how my wrong'd 〈◊〉〈◊〉 takes it, Yet for my fathers quiet, if your selfe

Would ioyne hands with your wife and toward Sonne, I should deserue it some way.

Gost.

Good Rynaldo, I loue you and your father, but this matter Is not for me to deale in: And tis needlesse, You say your brother is resolu'd, presuming Your father will allow it.

Enter Marcantonio.

Ryn.

See my father, since you are resolute not to moue him Sir, In any case conceale the secret Absconditse, By way of an attonement let me pray you will.

Gost.

Vpon mine honour.

Ryn.

Thankes Sir.

Mar.

God saue thee honourable Knight Gostanzo.

Gost.

Friend Marc. Antonio? welcome, and I thinke I haue good newes to welcome you withall.

Ryn.

He cannot holde.

Mar.

What newes I pray you Sir?

Gost.

You haue a forward, valiant eldest Sonne, But wherein is his forwardnes, and valour?

Mar.

I know not where in you intend him so.

Gost.

Forward before, valiant behinde, his duety, That he hath dar'd before your due consent To take a wife.

Mar.

A wife sir? what is she?

Gost.

One that is rich enough, her hayre pure Amber, Her forehead mother of pearle, her faire eyes Two wealthy diamants: her lips, mines of Rubies: Her t••th, are orient pearle; her necke, pure Iuory.

Mar.

Iest not good Sir, in an affayre so serious, I loue my sonne, and if his youth reward me With his contempt of my consent in mariage▪ T•• to be fear'd that his presumption buildes not Of his good choyce, that will beare out it selfe, And being bad, the newes is worse then bad.

Gost.

What call you bad? is it bad to be poore?

Mar.

The world accounts it so; but if my soone

Haue in her birth and vertues helde his choice, Without disparagement, the sault is lesse.

Gost.

Sits the winde there▪ blowes there so calme a gale From a contemned and deserued anger? A••e you so easie to be disobay'd?

Mar.

What should I doe? if my enamou••'d sonne Haue been so forward; I assure my selfe He did it more to satisfie his loue, Then to incense my hate, or to neglect me.

Gost.

A passing kinde construction; suffer this, You ope him doores to any villany, He'le dare to sell, to pawne, runne euer ryot, Despise your loue in all, and laugh at you: And that knights competency you haue gotten With care and labour; he with lust and idlenesse Will bring into the ••ypend of a begger; All to maintaine a wanton whirly▪gig, Worth nothing more then she brings on her back, Yet all your wealth too little for that back: By heauen I p••y your declining state, For be assu••'d your sonne hath set his foote, In the right path-way to consumption: Vp to the heart in loue; and for that loue, Nothing can be too deare his loue desires: And how i••satiate and vnlymited, Is the ambition and the beggerly pride Of a dame hoysed from a beggers state, To a state competent and plentifull, You cannot be so simple not to know.

Mar.

I must con••esse the mischiefe: But alas Where is in me the power of remedy?

Gost.

Where? in your iust displeasure: cast him off, Receiue him not, let him endure the vse Of their en••orced kindnesse that must trust him For meate and money, for apparrell, house, And euery thing belongs to that estate,

Which he must learne with want of misery, Since pleasure and a full estate hath blinded His dissolute desires.

Mar.

What should I doe? If I should banish him my house and sight, What desperate resolution might it breed? To runne into the warres, and there to liue In want of competencie and p••rhaps Taste th'vnrecouerable losse of his chiefe limbes, Which while he hath in peace, at home with me, May with his spirit, ransome his estate From any losse his mariage can procure.

Gost.

Ist true? Ne let him ••nne into the warre, And lose what limbes he can: better one branch Be lopt away, then all the whole tree should perish: And for his wants, better young want then olde, You haue a younger sonne at Padoa, I like his learning well, make him your heire, And let your other walke: let him buy wit Att's owne charge, not at's fathers, if you loose him, You loose no more then that was lost before, If you recouer him, you finde a sonne.

Mar.

I cannot part with him.

Gost.

If it be so, and that your loue to him be so extreame, In needfull daungers, euer chuse the least: If he should be in minde to passe the Seas, Your sonne Rynaldo (who tolde me all this) Will tell me that, and so we shall preuent it: If by no sterne cou••se you will venture that, Let him come home to me with his faire wife: And if you chaunce to see him, shake him vp, As if your wrath were hard to be reflected, That he may feare hereafter to offend In other dissolute courses: At my house With my aduice and my sonnes good example, Who shall serue as a glasse for him to see

His faults, and mend them to his president: I make no doubt but of a dissolut Sonne And disobedient, to send him home Both dutifull and thriftie,

M••r.

O Go•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉! Could you do this, you should pres••rue your selfe, A perfect friend of mee, and mee a Sonne.

Gost.

Remember you your part, and feare not mine: Rate him, reu••le him, and renounce him too: Speake, can you doo't man?

Mar.

Ile do all I can.

Exit Mar.

Gost.

Ahlas good man, how Nature ouer-wayes him.

Rynaldo comes foorth.

Ryn.

God saue you Sir.

Gost.

Rynaldo, All the Newes You told mee as a secret, I ••ceiue Is passing common; for your Father knowes it, The first thing he related, was the Marriage.

Ryn.

And was extreamly moou'd▪

Gost.

Beyond all measure: But I did all I could to quench his furie: Told him how easie t'was for a young man To runne that Amorous course: and though his choyce Were nothing rich, yet shee was gentlie borne, Well quallified and beautifull: But hee still Was quite relentles, and would needes renounce him.

Ryn.

My Brother knowes it well, and is resolud To trayle a Pyke in Field, rather then bide The more feard push of my vext Fathers furie.

Gost.

Indeed that's one way: but are no more meanes Left to his fine wits, then t'incence his Father With a moreviolent rage, and to redeeme A great offence with greater?

Ryn.

So I told him▪ But to a desperat minde all breath ••s lost,

Gost.

Go to, let him be wise, and vse his friendes,

Amongst whom, Ile be formost to his Father: Without this desperate errour he intends Ioynd to the other▪ Ile not doubt to make hi•• Easie returne into his Fathers fauour: So he submit himselfe, as duetie bindes him▪ For Fathers will be knowne to be them selu••, And often when their angers are not deepe, Will paint an outward Rage vpon their lookes.

Rin.

All this I told him Sir ▪ but what sayes hee▪ I know my Father will not be reclaymde, Heele thinke that if he wi••ke at this offence, T'will open doores to any villanie: Ile dare to sell to pawne, and run all ryot, To laugh at all his patience, and consume All he hath purchast to an honord purpose, In maintenance of a wenton Whirligigg, Worth nothing more then she weares on her backe.

Gost.

The very words I vsd t'incense his Father, But good Rinoldo l•• him be aduisde▪ How would his Father grieue, should he be maynd, Or quite miscarie in the ruthles warre?

Rin.

I told him so; but better farr (sayd hee) One branch should vtterly be lopt away, Then the whole Tree of all his race should perish: And for his wants, better yong want, then eld.

Gost.

By heauen the same words still I vsde t'his Father. Why comes this about? Well, good Rinaldo, If hee dare not indure his Fathers lookes, Let him and his ••aire wife come home to me, Till I haue quallified his Fathers passion, He shall be kindly welcome, and be sure Of all the intercession I can vse.

Rin.

I thanke you sir, Ile try what I can doe, Although I feare ••e I shall striue in vaine.

Gost.

Well, try him, try him.

Exit.

Rin.

Thanks ••r, so I will▪

See, this olde politique dissembling Knight, Now he perceiu••s ••y Father so affectionate, And that my brother may herea•• liue By him and his, with equall vse of either, He will put on a face of hollowe friendship. But this will proue an excellent ground to so•• The seede of o•• amongst v••; 〈◊〉〈◊〉 go seeke Valerio and my brother, and tell them Such newes of their affaires, as they'le admire.

Exit.

Enter Gazetta, Bellonora, Grat••na▪

Gaze.

How happie are your fortunes aboue mine▪ Both still being woode and courted•• still so feeding▪ On the delightes of loue, that still you finde An appetite to more▪ where I am cloyde, And being bound to loue sportes, care not for them.

Bell.

That is your fault Gazetta, we haue Lou•• And wish continuall company with the••. In honour'd marriage rites, which you enioy. But seld or neuer can we get a looke Of those we loue, F••rtunio my deare 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Dare not be knowne to loue me, nor come neere My Fathers house, where I as in a prison Consume my lost dayes, and the tedious nights, My Father guarding me for one I 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪ And Gratiana here my brothers loue, Ioyes him by so much 〈◊〉〈◊〉, that vehement feare Drinkes vp the sweetnesse of their stolne deligh••▪ Where you enloye a husband, and may freely Performe all obsequies you d••e to loue.

Gaze.

Indeede I hane a husband, and his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Is more then I desire, being vainely ielouse: Extreames, though contrarie, haue the like effects, Extreames heate mortifies like extreame colde:

Extreame loue breedes 〈◊〉〈◊〉 as well As extreame Hatred: and too violent rigour, Tempts Chastetie as much, as too much Licence: There's no mans eye fixt on mee but doth pierce My Husbandes soule: If any ••ke my wel-fare? Hee straight doubts Treason pra•• to his bed: Fancies but to himselfe all likelihoods Of my wrong to him, and ••ayes all on mee For certaine trueths▪ yet se•• he with his best, To put Disguise on all his Ielosie, Fearing perhaps, least it may teach me that, Which otherwis•• I should not dreame vpon: Yet liues he still abrode, at great expence, Turns merely Gallant from his Farmers state, Vses all Games and recreations▪ Runnes Races with the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of the Court, Feastes them at home, and entertaines them costly, And then vpbraydes mee with their companie:

Enter 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

See see, wee shalbe troubl'd with him now.

Cor.

Now La••▪ what plots haue we now in hand? They say, when onely one Dame is alone, Shee plots some mischiefe; but if three together, They plot three hundred: Wife, the Ayre is sharpe, Y'ad best to take the house least you take cold.

Gaz.

Ahlas this time of yeere yeeldes no such danger,

Cor.

Goe, in I say; a friend of yours attends you.

Gaz.

Hee is of your bringing, and may stay.

Cor.

Nay stand not chopping Logicke; in I pray.

Gaz.

Yee see, Gentle women, what my happines is, These humors raigne in mar••age; humors, humors.

Exit, he follow••h.

〈◊〉〈◊〉.

Now by my Sooth I am no fortune teller, And would be loth to prooue so; yet pronounce This at aduenture, that t'were indecorum This Heffer should want hornes.

••ll.

Fie on this Loue,

I rather wish to want, then purchase so.

Gra.

In deede such Loue is like a Smokie fire In a cold morning; though the Fire be cheerefull, Yet is the Smoke so sowre and combersome, T'were better lose the Fire, then finde the Smoke: Such an attendant then as Smoke to Fire, Is Ielo•• to Loue: Better want both, Then haue both.

Enter Ualerio and Fortunio.

Ual.

Come Fortunio, now take hold On this occ••▪ as my selfe on this: One couple more would make a Barly-breake.

For.

I feare Valerio, wee shall breake too soone, Your Fathers Ielosie Spy-all, will displease 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪

Val.

Well Wench, the daye will come his Argus eyes Will shut, and thou shalt open: Sfoote, I thinke Dame Natures memorie begins to fayle her▪ If I write but my Name in Mercers Bookes, I am as sure to haue at sixe months end A Rascole at my elbow with his Mace, As I am sure my Fathers not farre hence: My Father yet hath ought Dame Nature debt These threescore yeeres and ten, yet cal•• not on him: But if shee turne her Debt-booke ouer once, And finding him her debtor, do but send Her Serg••ant Iohn Death to arrest his body, Our Soules shall rest Wench then, And the free Light Shall triumph in our faces; where now Night, In imitation of my Fathers frownes, Lowres at our meeting:

Enter Rinald.

See where the Scholler comes.

Rin.

Downe on your 〈◊〉〈◊〉; poore louers reuerence learning

For.

I pray thee why Rinaldo?

Rin.

Marke what cause

Flowes from my depth of knowledge to your lou••, To make you ••neele and bl••e me while you liue.

Ual.

I pray thee good Scholards giue vs cause.

Rin.

Marke then, ••ect your eares: you know what horror Would flye on your loue from your fathers frownes, If he should know it. And your sister here▪ (My brothers sweete hart) knowes aswell what 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Would sease his powers for her, if he should knowe▪ My brother woo'd her, or that she lou'd him, Is not this true? speake all.

Omn.

All this is true.

Rin.

It is as true that now you meete by stelth In depth of midnight, kissing out at grates, Clime ouer walles. And all this 〈◊〉〈◊〉 reforme.

Vale.

By Lo••.

Rin.

Well sir, you shall haue all meanes To liue in one house, eate and drinke together, Meete and kisse your fils.

Ual.

All this by learning▪

Rin.

I, and your frowning father know all this.

Val.

I marry, small learning may proue that.

Rin.

Nay he shall know it, and desire it too, W••lcome my Brother to him, and your wife, Entreating both to come and dwell with him. Is not this strange▪

For.

I too strange to be true.

Rin.

Tis in this head shall worke it: Therefore heare; Brother this Lady you must call your wife, For I haue tolde her sweet harts Father here That ••e is your wife; and because my Father (Who now b••ues it) must b•• quieted Before you see him, you must liue a while As husband to her, in his Fathers house▪ Ualerio here's a simple meane for you To ly•• at racke and manger with your wedlocke And brother, for your selfe to meete as freely.

With this your long desir'd and barred loue.

For.

You make vs wonder.

Rin.

Peace, be ruld by mee, And you shall see to what a perfect shape ••e bring this rude Plo••, which blind Chaunce (the Ape Of Cou•• ••d aduice) hath brought foorth blind. Ualerio, can your heat of loue forbeare Before your Father, and allow my Brother To vse some kindnes to your wife before him▪

Ual.

I before him, I do not greatlie care, Nor anie where in deed; my Sister heere Shall be my spie•• if shee will wrong her selfe, And giue her right to my wife, I am pleasd.

For.

My dearest life I know, will neuer feare Anie such will or thought in all my powers▪ When I court her then, thinke I thinke tis th••▪ When I ••brace her, hold thee in mine Armes: Come, let vs practise gainst wee see your Father.

Ual.

Soft Sir, I hope you need not do it yet, Let mee take this time.

Rin.

Come, you must not touch her.

Ual.

No not before my Father?

Rin.

No nor now, Because you are so soone to practise it▪ For I must bring them to him presentlie. Take her Fortunio; goe, hence man and wife, Wee will attend you rarely with fixt faces. Valerio keepe your co••aunce, and conseaue Your Father in your forged sheepishnes, Who thinks thou dar'st not looke vpon a Wench, Nor knowest at which end to begin to kisse her.

Exeunt.

Finis Actus Prima.

Notes

• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 eam.