Lavv-trickes or, VVho vvould haue thought it As it hath bene diuers times acted by the Children of the Reuels. Written by Iohn Day.

Law-tricks, OR Who would haue thought it.

ACTƲS PRIMƲS.

Enter Count, Horatio solus.

Hor.

DIuine inuention, O how I could hug, And like an amorous Louer court thy beauty, That crownst me King of pleasures! were my braine Fordg'dout of vulgar metall without fier, And sprightly motion, my big-swolne hopes, Had bene still-borne, but when deiected minds, Out slept the golden pleasure of the night: My serious meditations haue out-watch'd, The glorious tapers that attend the Moone: I turnd my thoughts into a thousand shapes: Moulded the fashion of ten thousand plots, Lik'd and dislik'd so many, that my brayne The mother of Inuention grew barrayne, Almost past bearing, still my laboring thoughts Conceiu'd a yet more strange and quaint Idea, Gaue it proportion, and I brought it forth: And that blest infant of Inuention Beyond all hope hath my contentment woon, And that's Loues heauen I loue a face more faire Then Cinthe as hue that seems aboue compare,

But hell, her husband with a iealous eye Vshers her steps, oh wedded slauery! This tender rose, whom artles marriage, Hath grafted on a nettle (testy age) Haue I vngrafted, made himselfe vntie The knot of wedlock: thanks sweete industrie.

Enter Count Lurdo. meditating.

And here a comes, that which most heaps my fame, His wit's well spoken of.

Lu.

This wit's a sprightly thing▪

Ho.

For such as haue't.

Lu.

It not alone doth bring, Publique applause, but knowledge i'the law▪ Teacheth to speake in distance.

Ho.

How the daw Scoures ore his rustie phrases? honord Count, How growes your plot?

Lu.

My thriuing fortunes mount Aboue suppose, euen to my harts content: Wee are diuorc'd.

Ho.

My hopes are preualent.

Lu.

You know the cause on't, two sufficient men Swore her a harlot, and the partiall Bench Inspirde by my good Angels (Angels wings Sweepe a cleare passage to the seat of Kings) Seald our diuorce.

Ho.

But doth her brother swallow This grosse abuse?

Lu.

Abuse, away, away.

They know me rich Horatio, chinke, chinke: Whilst this holds out▪ my cause shal neuer sincke.

Enter Duke Ferneze and Angele.

Ho.

See where a comes, his sad complexion weares, Griefs mourning liuery, he is clothde in teares.

Ang.

Whence springs this sorrow?

Fer.

For my sisters shame, My sister, oh my sister, whose repute Hung like a Jewell on her sexes forehead.

Ang.

And what of her?

Fer.

Shee is, o no she was Pure as the Diamond, cleere as christall glasse, But now, O hell, her credit is more foule, Then speckled scandall, or black murders soule.

Ang.

I cannot thinke it.

Lu.

But I know't too true, She was my wife and by her meanes, my head Was fay rely tupt and you will buy a Lanthorne: Bespeake my sconce, tis ready hornd and all.

Ho.

Not yet, but Ile take order that it shall.

Fer.

And are yee parted?

Lu.

What a question's that? Shall I weare crackt rings, Diamonds with a flaw, Ile carry coles and you wil, no hornes, I know the law.

An.

Is this your griefe?

Fer.

This is inough, to make Patience tu••nerussin, she that was the paterne, To whose proportion all our courtly dames, Cut out their actions, she to fall••a signe—

Lu.

More will fall shortly.

Fer.

Her shame—

Lu.

Growes here, who euer broacht the wyne, The butt stands here, my forehead bears the signe,

Ho.

It merrits none, the shame's nor yours nor his, That foot's euen made that neuer treads a misse, Beauty came first from Heauen, Prometheus, Stole it to make proud women bewteous, Now, stolne goods thriue not: women steale from men Then blame not them to seeke their owne agen. Kings haue for this bene felons, and tis prou'd, He neuer was diuine that neuer lou'd.

Lu.

I finde no law for this.

Ho.

Custome you proue, And what's more Auncient then to pilfer louet

Lu.

A quillet well applide.

Ho.

Then bury griefe, Yf this be fellonie, my self's a theife.

Lu.

A nimble witte, iust of the length ofmine. But come my leidge, forget, it so will I, Our infant griefs must be old men and die,

Fer.

Not whil st hir fault suruiues, What newes with thee.

Enter Heratio's Page.

Pa.

I bring your honor comfortable newes, Your sonne's return'd from Pisa,

Fer.

A comes ill, And yet I hope his blest arriue will kill This monster griefe.

Ho.

He is a toward Prince.

Fe.

Toward inough, and yet most strangely wean'd And wedded from this worlds societie.

Lu.

A pa••lous youth, sharpe and sattyricall, Would a but spend some study in the law, A would proue a passing subtle Barrister.

Hor.

Ha's a quick wit.

Lur.

And a speakes Latin too, Truely and so few Lawyers vse to doe.

Enter Prince Polymetes with a Booke.

Poly.

Health to this honour'd presence: passing good!

Aug.

Welcome sweet Prince.

Poly.

Thanks: superpassing good! But honord father, see how he proceedes: Learning was first made pilot to the world, And in the chaire of contemplation, Many degrees aboue the turning cloudes Held in his hand the nine-leaf'd marble booke, Drawne full of siluer lines and golden Stars.

Fer.

But Sonne?

Poly.

But father, it was learnings place, Till emptie outsides, shadowes daub'd with golde Pluckt him downe headlong, then alost his wits, And euer since liues Zany to the world, Turnes Pageant-Poet, toyler to the presse, Makes himselfe cheape▪ detested, hist and stale, To euerie bubble and dull Groome. Who for his out-sides gawdie, will presume To make poore wit a hackney to his pride. And with blunt rowled Iestes spur-gall his side Till his soule bleede, O, I am more then mad, To see meere shadowes censure and controule, The substance, worthier both in sence and soule

Fer.

Fie Polymetes, though therobe of learning, Sit comely on a Prince, yet weane thy thoughts From this strict contemplation, and embrace Publique assemblies, knightly exercise.

Poly.

How's that? to sweare and giue the sunden stab? Sell Lands to purchase fashions? O tis base! Bought gentrie, should true-borne worth disgrace.

Ang.

Practise to hunt.

Pol.

No, some that vse that sport Giu't ore, being scarce one haire the better for't.

Fer.

Then practise Reuels.

Pol.

Reuels sprightly play, Yet euerie yeare, some reuell all away.

Lur.

All these are triuiall: Prince, be a Lawyer:

Pol.

Of all Land monsters, some that beare that name, Might well be sparde, whose vultur Auarice Deuours men liuing: they of all the rest, Deale most with Angells, & yet proue least blest.

Lur.

Wrong not the Law.

Pol.

I cannot, tis diuine: And ile compare it to a golden chaine, That linkes the body of a common-wealth, Into a firme and formall Vnion. It holds the sword, with an impartiall hand, Curbs in the raines of an vnruly land, Tis twin'd to Iustice, and with holy zeale, Rightly determines the poore mans appeale. And those that are lawes true administers, Are fathers to the wrong'd, heauen's Iusticers.

Lur.

Fore-god tis true, right properties of the Law But vnder fauour, and with due respect Of that vnualued perle, and the professors, Your selfe and such lacke-Latin Aduocates Infect the heart, and doe their best to change The true intent of sanctimonious law. Turne Church yards Champions, and make the ground growne rancke w th Grandsires flesh, Beare corne to feed the Sonne.

Fer.

Will this be suffer'd? But Polymetes, in thy stay at Pisa, When heardst thou of thy Sister?

Pol.

Much to late,

The reason, with your patience ile relate. Beautious Emilia, whome I neuer saw, But in the Rhethorique of discoursiue tongues In Sancta Monta, neighbour to Sardinia, Where siluer Arno in her Christall bosome, Courts the fresh bancks with many an amorous kisse. My Sister (as the countrie custome claim'd) With all the choycest virgins of the Land, Met at the Temple▪ halfe a league remote, From all resort of people, which was deck'd With all the Reliques, and the choicest lemmes, Marcellis, Pisa, or Ligorne could yeeld.

Fer.

What follow'd this rich preparation?

Pol.

Whilst they securely ••end their Orizons, Three armed Gallies of the faithlesse Turkes, At this aduantage set their men on shore, Enterd the Temple, and prophande their shrines, On the high Altar sacrifiz'd the Priests, Disray'd the Temple of the golden robes, Murder'd the matrons, rauished the Maides, And dragging them by the disheueld haire, Did with their rauish'd bodies fill their boates, Amongst the rest, Emilia whome report Cald by no name but onely beautifull, Was rauish'd, slaine, or taken prisoner.

Fer.

O Polymetes! thy discourse confounds, Thou healst old hurts, yet giu'st vs deeper wounds, But words are ayre, see our arm'd Gallies man'd, And in them place as many of our Knights As lou'd Emilia and their Soueraignes health. Ile vnto Pisa, and till our returne, Because our widowed Duke-dome shall not mourne. Be thou her minion, and possesse her chaire, Fill that with honour, t'will fill thee with care, Vrgeno denialls, Genowaes a dew,

Wee leaue old greefes, and goe in quest of new.

Exeunt: manent Lurdo and Horatio▪

Lur.

Better and better, now my hopes are fit, The Duke thus gone, what tongue so bold dares say I wrong'd my wife?

Ho.

That dares Horatioes.

Lur.

Thou art my self, we both haue but one bo∣some One tongue, one soule, two bodies & one heart.

Hor.

I know't my Lord.

Lur.

Tis true, but let that passe, Wee two are one.

Hor.

I know your honour's wise.

Lur.

And I know thee For no small foole, twa's simple pollicie, And not without some counsel of the lawe, That not withstanding my wiues neere allyance Vnto the Duke, I purchac'd a diuorce.

Hor.

What was the cause?

Lur.

I tell thee, the moste wrong Was this, my Auarice thought she liu'd too long. I know one man hath coffind vp sixe wiues Since she was mine, and by the poorest, purst A brace of thousand pounds: still good in Law, Men must be rich, by thrift our treasures rise, Giue me the man's knaue rich, take you poore wise, But close, cocke sure ile feed me fat with sport, Gull all, f••ole all, why? I haue Law-tricks for't.

Exit

Hor.

How Justice Slender glories in the plot, Which to deceiue him, my full braine begot? But to his wife, true vertue though disgrac'd, Shee's now halfe woo'd because shee's thought vn∣chast Her sexes credit, or discredit thriues In th' outward shape and fashion of their liues, and be a womans vertues nere so strong. Her honour's weighed vpon discourses tongue. Be her same sullied, were her thoughts as bright

As Innocence, the world would count her light. For though mongst women, moste are beautious, They that please time are counted vertuous, And in this hope, ile to the Countesse goe, Shee's counted light, Loue grant I finde her so.

Exit.

Enter Emilia and Ioculo.

Joc.

Welcome to Genea Madam, and to make a short cut of our long trauell, faith tell mee, how doe you feele your selfe since you came a shore?

Em.

Feele my selfe? why with my hands, what an idle question's that?

Ioc.

Then pray bee you better occupied in your answere: but Madam, doe you remember what a multitude of fishes we saw at Sea? and I doe wonder how they can all liue by one another.

Em.

Why foole, as men do on the Land, the great ones eate vp the little ones, but Ioculo, I am great, pas∣sing great, and readie to lye downe.

Joc.

Doe Madam, and ile stand by and doe my good will to deliuer you.

Em.

Mans death of what?

Ioc.

Why of your Maiden-head Madam & if you please, or rather of the huge birth of knauerie y'are in trauell of.

Em.

And insooth Ioculo at this time I stand in some need of a wittie Mid-wif: but may I trust thee?

Ioc.

Aboue the girdle-stead, and below the knee Madam without any danger, why Madam, you know at our first meeting in the Turkes Gallies, where we were both prisoners, and in a manner strāgers, I rested faithful when we counterfeited our∣selues lunaticke to escape their furie I proued not false when wee were cast naked a shore: I stood firme to you, and neuer since left your companye: now hauing had these tryals of me abroade, neues

mistrust my secrecie at home.

Em.

I wil credit thee, and now receiue this embri∣on of knauerie, brieflie as I deliuer it. I vnderstand since our priuate arriuall heere at Genoa, that the Duke my father hearing of my surprisal from Mon∣ta sancta, attended with a hundred Knights, is gone to seeke a needle in a bottle of Hay.

Io.

Or rather to catch a quicke Eele by the—

Em.

Teeth, as I haue done you sir?

Io.

Nay, and you breake iestes a my teeth once, I haue done with you.

Em.

If the breaking of the iest kept your teeth whole, twas well broken: but to the purpose; as well to trie what mettle our Genow aies wits are made of, as also to put my Brothers humor to the test, I intend to dance a prettie change with my name (for by no∣thing else I am sure they can knowe me, being in my infancie carried to my Aunts at Pisa) then insteed of Emilia, call me Tristella.

Io.

Agreed, but what man i'th mist is this?

Em.

I know not yet, lets walke, and take occasion to confer with them.

Enter Polymetes reading, end Inlis taking Tobacco.

Ioc.

Yet keep without eye-shot so long as you can

Poly.

O moste Diuine!

Iul.

Tobacco? the best in Europe, 't cost mee ten Crownes an ounce by this vapor.

Pol.

Art not asham'd?

Iul.

Of your foppish humor? yes by this Element villanou••ly asham'd, poxon't, leaue it, you are a scholler, goe but to antiquitie, reade the Chronicles, you may finde some of your Ancestors chronicled for winning a Wenches fauour for loosing their ar∣mour, but few for wit and Schollership: Souldiers &

Scollers could neuer set their horses together, especi∣ally in this kicking age: but who comes heere? one she-Satyre or other to pitch vp her Tent, cast downe her gauntlet and proclaime thee coward for not stabbing her, when shee gaue thee the moste plaine apparant and open lye.

Em.

Ioculo, we are fallen into their eyes.

Ioc.

Theile hardly see their way then, for we are shrew'd moats, but al's one, ile giue occasion of quar∣reil, answert you as you can,

iustle Iulio.

Iul.

Your reason Sir?

Ioc.

To make thee recoile, or with the Souldier to fall off, i'st your countrie manner to corriue a leader, being vpon or before present seruice as I am?

Iul.

Pardon me sir, I did not see your charge. Would I had neuer seene her, for her eye Hath set my thoughts in a strange mutenie.

Pol.

What, in loue Iulio?

Iul.

No Prince, loue's in me, I like a slaue indure loues tyrannie.

Ioc.

Madam, your Brother.

Pol.

Slaue to all slaues be he that snares his eye, In a weake Syrens Cob-web flatterie.

Iul.

God saue faire sweete.

Em.

Amen, from such as you.

Iul.

You had said for such, had your tongue gone true.

Em.

Why then belike I lye.

Iul.

I would you did, within my Curtens.

Em.

Marry loue forbid.

Iul.

Nay, loue is willing, for he cries lets goe:

Em.

Then loue hath two tunges, for he tels me no, so pray let's part.

Iul.

What, and our lips not meete?

Em.

Now fie vpon't, like Broom-men in the street? Y'are a young wooer, or else much to rude, To shew this kindnesse fore a multitude,

But by the blush that colours ore your face, You would scarce doo't in a more priuate place.

Po.

This same strāge thing i'th likenes of a womā, Tastes of much wit, though I not loue her sex, Ile arme my thoughts to cracke a iest with her. What, graueld lulio?

Em.

No, but run a Land: Is your wits shipping any better mand?

Pol.

Yes, will you board it?

Em.

No, I dare not venter:

Pol.

Make but a shot in iest and you may enter.

Em.

You are a Scholler.

Pol.

I haue seene some Schooles.

Em.

You came not ore i' the last fleet of Fooles.

Pol.

You tooke my roome vp.

Em.

I pray tak't agen, Weele haue no women fooles saile amongst men.

Pol.

Your wit's much currish.

Em.

Why 't bites not you, It feedes on fooles flesh, so wisemen adicu

Iul.

Please you accept the curtsie of the towne?

Em.

I need not, I haue curtsies of mine ownes ther's one for you.

Pol.

How chance your wit's so free?

Em.

Onely to out-goe Iadish company.

Iul.

Here are none such.

Ioc.

Take heede, for if you tire, Sheele keepe her pace and leaue you in the mire.

Pol.

A womans feature, but a Schollers tongue In quick discourse, Philosophers nere wondred More at the strange conception of the windes, Then I admire how she attain'd this wit: Did not true learning make the soule diuine, She hath spoke enough to make me conuertine.

Iul.

My loues are sound, & wait but your reply, A short lin'd accent, either no or I.

Em.

I am not too seueare, nor yet so kinde, To fall for eucrie idle puff of winde. But farwell, ile take counsell of my pillow, Pittie fresh youth should wither in greene willowe.

Iul.

Appoint the place sweete, ile not misse mine houte.

Em.

At the three fooles.

Iul.

Ile meete.

Em.

And make vp foure.

Pol.

Sweet wordes, kinde lookes, what? and a par∣ting kisse. Words, lookes and lips crie all, the wenche is his. I am possest deuill, loue perswades my minde, That if to him, to me shee'le proue more kinde. What's Iulio made of? hadst thou soule or sence, Thou wouldst not prentise thy affections, Nor tie thy fortunes to a strangers loue.

Iul.

A little liking my Lord, a ierk a trick or so, but no pure loue I protest, but be impartiall, cast of the furd-gowne of hate, and fpeake out of the naked Doublet and hose of iudgement: is she not worthy to be beloued? nay, might not she and I liue passing well together?

Pol.

Yes, if to liue in bondage be no hell, I thinke you two, might doe exceeding well.

Iul.

Well my Lord, because ile bee no example of selfe-will, ile breake off our meeting at the three Fooles, and send for her to Court, where ile put al my loue into one quart of Maligo, & your melancholly humor into another, and he that hath done last, shall for penance giue her a kicke a the lips, and a pipe of Tobacco be my witnesse, that's all the loue I beare her.

Pol.

Well Iulio, How ere you iuggle, if you doe agree, You must be pleas'd to weare the keepers fee. Exennt

Actus Secundus.

Enter Count Lurdo and Adam.

Adam.

Sir, I doe not loue to double with a womā if my friend, much lesse with you my most vpright & straight Connt, my yong Lord (as I told you) is turnd absolute prodigall.

Lur.

How prodigall?

Adam.

Marry thus prodigall, to frequent ordina∣ries is his ordinarie practise, rubs out whole weekes together in bowling. Allyes, bandies away his pocket full of French-Crownes in a morning, and counts it a prettie sport to procure heate.

Lur.

Thou telst me wonders, he that but last day, Was neuer seene to walke without a booke, Writ against pleasure, and make bitter iests Of honest recreation, turn'd dissolute, I see no reason for't, the law and I, (I tell you plainely Adam) thinke you lye.

Adam.

Thinke as you will sir, there's not a tricke vsde in the towne that deserues damnation, but hee desires to deale in't, tis pitty a was not made a trades∣man, he loves to follow his occupation a life, & that which makes him doubt most, he is in loue with the Indian punck Tobacco.

Lur.

Punke! how the foole that doth not know it slaunders a leafe, nick-names a stranger herb.

Adam.

No herb a grace I hope sir.

Lur.

Nor good thrift neither, Yet there s one dunce, a kinde of plodding Poet, S〈…〉〈…〉care's twas not in the first creation, Because he findes no ballad argument, To proue old Adam a Tobacconiste,

Adam.

I thinke none a the name lout's it,

I haue heard olde Adam was an honest man, and a good Gardiner lou'd Lettice well, Sallets and Cab∣bage reasonable well, yet no Tobacco: Again, A∣dam Bell a substantial out-law, & passing a good Ar∣cher, yet no Tobaconist. Further, Diogenes, whose propper name might bee Adam for ought I know, lou'd Carretts well, Leeke porredge▪ passing well, yet no Tobacco: to conclude, my great Grand∣fathers Grandfathersfather, and my selfe all Gard∣ners, yet could not abide this Chimney-sweeper To∣cause, bacco.

Lur.

They did not: take me with you, what's the They were al plaine folks, & did not know the lawes.

Adam

They were plaine indeede, and thereof grew the prouer be, plaine dealing is a Iewell.

Lur.

But he that vseth it shall die a begger.

Ad.

That addition was made by some Lawyer or Poet, to auoid which, they cannot indure plaine-dea∣ling should haue a hand in any of their actions.

Lu.

Touch no mans functiō, there are ierks & tricks Spurne not the law, for if you doe, it kicks.

Ad.

So will a spur-gald Iade sir, but to all these mis∣demeanors, a maintaines a priuate punck, one Tris∣tella that hee had in way of reuersion from Iulio, a twindger, a meere Horsleach, one that will suck out the braines of his treasurie, and make a meere skin of his wealth, I, out of my Loue reprehended his error, and he in a furie kick't me out of dores, and dischar∣ged me of his seruice.

Lu.

I like not this, tis neither right nor streight done with no law-trick, nor no good conceite, but here a comes.

Enter Polim. & Emilia.

Ad.

With Autumne in his bosome, pray God she shake not downe his leaues, and leaue him to make the Duke his father a bald reckoning.

Lu.

Peace and obserue.

Em.

Though I be a stranger to you,

Yet am I well acquainted with your humor. A Lady cannot liue about the Court Without the enuie of your Epigrams, If she be pleasant, she is counted light, If ruddy, painted, if her ruffes be thicke, They aske much poaking.

Po.

Trust me, loue hath kild That worme-wood humor, bring th'auth oritie Of one true tongue to proue my poesse, Euer wrong'd woman.

Em.

And you'l doo't agen?

Lur.

That's a good wench.

Em.

I pray who ought that pen? That in a stammering Iambick vaine, Glanc'd at Emiliaes loose and gaudie traine. And broke broad iests vpon her narrow heele, Poak't her Rebatoes, and suruaid her steele, tide her fring'd garters, bought her words by weight

Lur.

Still good in law, and an vpright conceit.

Em.

Doe you not know that man?

Pol.

Suppose I doe?

Em.

You did but flout them, and youle flout me too You wondred not Cornelia being so faire, Would be beholding to her Laun dresse haite.

Pol.

I know not this.

Em.

True, nor that Florymell, Became a Pages habit passing well, Vside single Rapier, tooke the rouse and swore, Of all land Beasts she could not brooke the Bore, Nor that Count Lurdo, comming to a fray, Brought not the worth of one poore haire away.

Pol.

More then his owne.

Lur.

That iest comes neere to me, Tis our-growne now, a wants authoritie.

Em.

Nor that Melina whom your Muse renownes Wore out as many suiters as new gownes.

And the same day that she was marryed, Vpon her finger wore her maiden-head. In likenes of a Dyamond.

Pol.

Indeede twa's sed, That for Ring Melina sold her head.

Em.

But y'are all Ouids.

Lur.

They are bawdie mates, Touch Lawyers too, indeed abuse all states,

Em.

Poets are wanton, and no doubt inioy, Their faire Corynnaes, though perhaps lesse coy.

Pol.

Suppose some doe?

Em.

Each one in this agrees to scandall vs.

Lur.

And talke of Lawyers fees.

Pol.

Graunt me but loue, & with my vtmost power, I will defend your sexes stainlesse honour: And with my pen dipt in the iuice of gall, Be his soules terror, that hereafter shall, Cast ynke at honours garments, or aspire To name your sex with an vnhallowed fire.

Em.

I take your word.

Enter Iulio.

Poly.

Then seale it with a kisse.

Lur.

That kisse my Lord deserues an Epigram▪

Pol.

Sit downe good Vncle.

Lur.

An vnbidden guest Should bring a stoole along.

Poly.

A womans iest.

Iul.

You meane a lye, for women vse to lye.

Em.

But not like Schollers by authoritie.

Jul.

Yet they may produce lying authoritie, and so cannot Poets,

Lur.

Nor Lawyers neither.

Em.

Are you a Lawyer?

Jul.

Ifaith Madam, he hath sit on the skirts of law any time this thirtie yeares.

Ad.

Then he should bee a good Trencher-man by

his profession.

Lu.

Your reason Adam.

Ad.

I knew one of that facultie in one terme eate vp a hole Towne, Church, Steeple and all.

Iu.

I wonder the Bels rung not all in his belly.

Ad.

No sir, he solde them to buy his wife a Taffety Gowne, and himselfe a veluet Iacket.

Po.

What a prou'd Iacke was that? but I wonder at Lawyers for one thing, many of them vse to take their fees afore-hand.

Em.

For a two-folde pollicy, one is they were com∣monly greedie, the other for feare if their Clyents follow their Counsell long, they will not be worth a fee.

Lau.

Tis well said Lady, you doe well to iest with an oldeman.

Ad.

A saies true, for if you shold iest too much with a young man, it might proue earnest, & so the fruites of your ieasts make you both a sham'd on't.

Pol.

Well said Adam, but leauing at a full iest, Vn∣cle, what earnest businesse brought you hither?

Lur.

Your honours sudden Metamorphosis, Tolde by your trustie Seruant, and confirmd By publique rumor.

Pol.

Why what saies Goody Fame, and my trustie Seruant

Lu.

This is the worst my Lord that you expend Your treasure on that Ladies maintenance.

Pol.

S'foot say I doe, what, has the worme-eaten bawd Fame: or ere a pander-like foole else to doe with it? giue her maintenance, why she is of my nere affinitie, should I see my shee affinitie goe in tatters? I allow my Seruant rags, & I were worse then a Iew, if I should suffer my shee affinitie to goe naked.

Lu.

Law takes your part, & if your pursse grow short Rather then spend the publique treasurie, Ile lend your Grace a brace of thousand pounds,

Prouided this, that as our Booke-men write I haue securitie.

Em.

A Lawyer right?

Pol.

Securitie? Leases and old rents, Castle and Towne-ships, able men, good securitie, Townes are no Starters, theile hold out winde and weather.

Lu.

I craue no more, let me haue pawnes and vse.

Em.

How? Lords turne Vsurers? those that should punnish broke age deale vppon pawnes? If it were once his owne, Hee'de lend him mony on his Duke-domes crowne

Po.

But faith Vncle tell me, what think you of this Lady? would she not make a prettie peart Dutches?

Lur.

Shee's faire, nor do I discommend your choise I wish her your's, a priuate friend or so, I know mad Ierks, and know that Lawe allowes, Princes their priuate pleasures, and my selfe Will doe my best to gaine your honours loue, I will not absolutely say there are, But there may be, if so your honour please, Sellers and Vaults, which from your priuate Garden May vnder ground lead to your bed-chamber. Whither, I will not name my selfe, but some close friend, May vnsuspected bring your beautious Lady.

Em.

Lord what a broaking Aduocate is this? He was some Squiers Scriuenor, and hath scrapt Gentilitie out of Atturneys fees▪ His bastard actions proue him such a one, For true worth scornes to turne Camelion.

Pol.

Madam▪ my Vncle out of tender-loue, Better to shun all scandalous suspect, That might attend on our vnsuiting Iodes Will lodge you at his house, whither at times—

Em.

Your Grace may haue accesse.

Lur.

Tis so indeede.

Em.

Is there a backe way?

Lur.

And a priuate doore, A secret vault, and twentie odde tricks more.

Em.

A Stoue?

Lur.

And Arbors with sweete violet Beds, That haue bin prest to death with maiden-heads, Where you may sport and breath, and take a rouse

Em.

Pe rdy, this Lawyer keepes a bawdie house, I shall be ready to deceiue you all. My Lord, your Law-plot's, most iudiciall.

Enter the Countesse.

Bnt who comes heere? some one of your cast cly∣ents.

Iul.

Gods me, the Countesse.

Lur.

Mum, I cannot stay, There's a clowd rising, driues my Sun away.

Em.

Is this your wife?

Lur.

Madam, tis she that was.

Em.

That was and is not? how comes that to passe?

Count.

I cannot tell, God & his conscience knowes

Lur.

And the world sees Colossus on my browes, Hercules Pillers, here's non vltra writ.

Iul.

Not in brasse Characters?

Pol.

No, hornes more fit.

Lur.

Hath not the Lawe diuorc'd and made a bar twixt our affections? wert not thou content to take a pention?

Coun.

Which you still detaine.

Lur.

Good wit, Law-trickes and firme, you may complaine.

Cou.

Complaine I doe, I kneele before the throane and sue for Iustice, but yet can purchase none.

Complaine I doe Cousen.

Pol.

Away.

Con.

O, as you are a Prince, and you a virgin.

Em.

I was one long since, This is no place for passion, drie your eyes,

Cou.

Greife nailes me to the ground, I cannot rise, Ile grow immodest, iustice is exild, And so shall duetie, patience turne wilde,

Po.

Come, leaue the Bedlam.

Enter Horatio a side.

Lu.

Doe, for wit and Law knowe shee's a foole,

Em.

A couple quoth Iack-daw.

Exount

Hor.

Madam.

Co.

Who calles?

Hor.

Madam.

Co.

Horatio.

Hor.

In passion Lady.

Co.

Discontent or so.

Hor.

Be not, be counsaild, do not let dispaire, Like the ranke cancker bred by sultrie aire. Eate this young Rose of beautie in the bud: But in the Aprill Sunne of youthfull blood Let the sweet blossome ripen, thriue and grow, To those full ioyes which none but Louers know.

Co.

The man talkes idely, tell me I am faire, Louely and young.

Hor.

You are, by loue you are, Not faire, you are: Leanders paramour: Compar'd with you was a swarth Blackamour Your haire is softer then the Colchean Fleece, Your well lim'd features, natures maister peece Your eyes too Dyamonds, set in purer molde Then rocks of currall, or the Indian gold. In thy smooth chin there is an Iuorie pit, Where blushing Ʋenus and young Cupid sit, Feathering of golden shafts, the wounding heads, Made of thy ••mber tresses finest threds.

Co.

You will not buy me sure you praise me so.

Hor.

Yet faire, ile bid faire for you ere I goe,

Co.

He that bids faire for me deceiues his eye.

Hor.

By heauen a doth not.

Enter Horatios Page.

Co.

Wilfull periurie, what meanes all this?

Hor.

This my discourse intends, Were husbands Saints, some wiues would haue close friends.

Co.

Some bad perhaps, but—

Hor.

Husbands but for't, true, woot? prethee woot thou?

Co.

What?

Ho.

Vd's Hartlings doe?

Co.

Doe what?

Hor.

Loue-tricks quickly, woo't thou prethee.

Cou.

No, I prize my credit.

Hor.

Credit? life a man, What talks of credit? art not knowne a strumpet?

Cou.

You doe me wrong.

Hor.

Damnation, what a glosse, This gilded copper, Diamond of glasse, What strang shew it makes? ile giue you a colot Your face was nere worse painted, then ile paint Your Wain-fcot credit, you are a priuate bit, Kept for some great made Diues. Red hot scandall Suck the natiue coulour of your soules As it hath scorch'd thy credit, shriueld Baw'd, Spunge, Lemon-pill, and more irrelishable Then ore-dride Stock-fish, fie.

Co.

Vpon thy shame.

Ho.

Thy husband, O thy husbands bow-leg'd fame Death I shall hate thee.

Co.

O for honour doe.

Hor.

Sweare thou art my strumpet.

Co.

Ile indure that to.

Ho.

Shalt not deny't, hart, canst not.

Cou.

Yes, I can.

Ho.

Doo't for thy life, thy soule, basse curtezan.

Exit

Co.

Farwell, if friendship be at such a rate, Before ile purchast, ile liue still in hate.

Pa.

Hart, a new fashion, A Lady poore, beautifull and chast? cleane From the bias of Custome: to be poore, painted, And proud is as cōmon in Genoa, as felt and feather In the fortunate Iland: but chast and poore, As singuler and rare, as Conscience with the Ana∣baptist.

Cou.

Come hether Boy, didst neuer owe me seruice

Pag.

Yes Madam, more then euer I paid you ho∣nestly, and were a not my Maister.

Cou.

Thy Maister, who?

Pa.

Horatio, he that puts chastetie to the quick, & honor to the stab, but ile shew him the nature of a right French-man, deny him homage, for sweare al∣legiance, and come behinde hand in cash keeping, & with his owne pursse maintaine you against him.

Cou.

Thy purpose brieflie.

Pa.

In balde sentences, your noted wrongs are pit∣tied.

Cou.

Pittyed, by whome?

Pa.

By me, lodgings prepar'd and dyet, which I humbly tender your honor, as first paiment of the an∣cient debt, my seruice owes you.

Cou.

But is the lodging priuate?

Pa.

At mine owne mothers, and though I say't, she keepes an honest house, though my father bee a Cit∣tiz••n.

Cou.

Of what profession?

Pa.

Neither foole nor Phisitian, but an ingenious Pothecarie.

Cou.

And what resort?

Pag.

Verie ciuil and moste quiet resort, patients, the

house is set round with patients twice or thrice a day, and because theile be sure not to want drinke, euerie one brings his owne water in an Vrinall with him.

Cou.

Doth a vse phisicke too? that's beyond his warrant.

Pa.

O Lord Madam, better men then hee straine curtes••ie with their warrants in this age, besides, you being musicall, shall meet much content, for my mo∣ther lodges three or foure Knights & Ladies Daugh∣ters that practise musicke and needle-work, and wil no doubt be exceeding proud of your company, wilt please you walke?

Co.

Thou art the Star, by whome my fate is led, My shame's so publique, ide faine hide my head.

Exeunt

Actus Tertius.

Enter Count Lurdo and Winifride.

Lur.

CVrrant in Law, & how encountred you. Wiu. Ile tell you my good Lord (I thank my bringing vp, I can talke, I vse not to haue my tongue to seeke when it should pleasure anye man, especially my good Lord) I tolde her what a credit it was to haue a man of great credit, & that which is more, a skilfull Lawyer that can stand out in her case at a dead life, and one that if need were, could make a crazy action sound, I put her in minde what it was to haue such a one to her sweet heart.

Lu.

Thou speakst but right, for so I am indeede.

Wi.

You are, I vrg'd it, and she confest to me that the verie first night shee saw you she dream't on you, and wisht you in her bed, and her bed in the midst of the Riuer.

Lu.

How, ith the Riuer?

Win.

Yes for sooth,

Lu.

In the middle of the tide.

Win.

Yes in her dreame.

Lur.

Good, But she doth loue me.

Win.

Beleeue it my Lord she doth, martie you must thinke I drew her and drew her, and wrought her and wrought her, till I made her as plyant and, trac table as wax, marrie with all, she is as constant as Lu∣cretia, and will not for a thousand pounds, till shee hath the law of her side.

Lur.

I sound her meaning, first ile gull my Ne∣phew.

Win.

Her intent right, she intends to make a Gull of the Prince, and an absolute Goose of you.

Lur.

Still good in Law, ile fetch him ore of all, Get all, pursse all, and be possest of all, And then conclude the match, marrie at least, When can you tell? Ile vse her as a hand To picke the Princes coffers, and for reward To prison, marrie her, for tricks can doo't, (actions. The worlds squint-eyd, and dares not prie into our Here lyes her walke (my Lute Win) she shall see, Youthe's leaden footed in respect of me.

Play and daunce.

Enter Emilia.

Em.

Win, prethee giue the Fidler a testar and fend him packing, what a scraping the rongue keepes? doe's a thinke the Count keeps a Tauerne or a Baw∣die-house? my good Lord! beseech your honour pardon me.

Lu.

No harme sweet Loue, how dost thou like this Caper?

Em.

Passing wel my Lord, wil you neuer leaue these coltish tricks? but to the matter: I sent you my reso∣lution by your Maid, haue you receiu'd it.

Lur.

I haue, and it holds currant, Then tender me possession.

Em.

Of what?

Lur.

Of thy chast loue.

Em.

Not too much hast for that, you haue a wife.

Lur.

I had one.

Em.

And still haue.

Lur.

Thy loue shall quickly wed her to her graue, I nere did loue her.

Em.

When she was a maide You swore you did, how soon poore youth's betraid To helplesse ruine▪ doe you loue me?

Lur.

I faith.

Em.

For how long?

Lur.

Till death.

Em.

O deadly lye. Ile tell you iust how long, loue's bred i'th blood, Prospers as long as beauties in the bud. When beautie withers, lustfull loue growes colde, And ere it be halfe ripe, tis rotten old. If you haue me, you must not put on yellowes, Ile haue my felfe, my servant and my fellowes. My loue, my liking, and a second me, I loue to rellish sweet varietie: Your old wife mou'd you, I shall vex you more. Take Coach with Gallants euen a sore your dore. Take Rings, giue bracelets wouen of my haire, Which to spight you, my Seruants arme shall weare. Ile in your prefence sit vppon his knee, Exchanging kisses if you speake to me. Ile pont in scorne, crie mew, and looke aside, At which, if you but frowne, ile roundly chide, I am not as I seeme, dissembling wit Is my best meanes.

Lur.

Square to my humour fit.

Em.

I was a Beggar borne.

Lur.

And so was I.

Em

Traded in lust and gainefull brothelrie.

Lur.

The fitter for my turne, I was a man Borne to no hopes, but a few shreds of witt

A Grammer Scholler, then a Scriuenor. Dealing for priuate vse twixt man and man, and by close broake age set them at debate: Incenst them vnto Law, which to maintaine, I lent them money vpon Lands and Plate, After the rate of seauen-score in the hundred. Then did I learne to countefeit mens hands, Noble-mens armes, interline Euidences, Make false conueyances, yet with a trick, Close and cock-sure, I cony-catch'd the world. Hauing scrap'd prettie wealth, I fell in League With my first wife, and (though I say't my selfe) She had good dooings, her backe commings in And priuate goings out, rais'd me aloft: I followed cases of the law abroad, and she wae merrie with her friends at home.

Em.

Did you nere take her kissing?

Lur.

Twentie times.

Em.

Were you not Iealious?

Lur

Neuer nothing lesse.

Em.

Yet saw her kisse with Strangers.

Lu.

Kisse and play.

Em.

And were you a Cuckold.

Lu.

Cuckold by this light.

Em.

What? a wittall.

Lur.

And a Wittall too.

Em.

And knew't?

Lur.

And knew't.

Em.

And sufferd it.

Lur.

I did.

Lur.

It went attirde in golde, a golden Crest, Is a braue fashion, and accounted best.

Enter Wenefride.

Wen.

Madam, my Lord.

Lur.

What newes?

Win.

The Prince.

Lu.

The Prince.

Win.

And Iulio.

Lur.

Which way?

Em.

Where?

Lu.

From thence.

Win.

That way the vault, from thence the priuate dore, as I stood Centinell at the further end of the Vault, they being vnacquainted with the turnings, came g••oping and feeling, as commonly men wil do especially in a strange place, and as I am true sinner, had I not spyed the Diamōd on his finger (twinne, to this a my conscience) they had beene vpon me in the darke ere I had bene aware of them.

Lu.

The Prince.

Win.

And Iulio.

Em.

Quick away.

Lu.

What plot?

Em.

Behinde the Arras? scapt behinde the Arras.

Lu.

Behinde the Arras.

Em.

Close, cocke, sure, be wise, They onely thrine that best can temporize.

Enter Polymetes and Iulio.

Pol.

A rare vault by this light, and neuer deuis'd without the aduice of a grand Iurie of Bawdes, a word with your lips Tris.

Win.

As god mend me Prince you smell bawdie.

Pol.

Since I came into thy company Win. And how ist Tris? fore-God a prettie lodging.

Inl.

And verie faire hangings.

Pol.

Passing good workman-ship, what storie is this Tris?

Em.

Why my Lord? the Poeticall fiction of Ʋenus kissing Adonis in the violet bed.

Iul.

Fore-god tis true, and marke where the Cuc∣koldly knaue Vulcan stands sneaking behinde the

brake bush to watch a▪m.

Pol.

A prettie conceit Iulio, doost see Vulcan with the horning parenthesis in his fore-head! I hit indi∣rectly vpon the leaft pap at three passes for a hun∣dred Crownes.

Iul.

Not for a hundred.

Pol.

Ist a match?

Iul.

Tis done, where will you take your stand?

Pol.

Here, any where, hart has the Arras an ague, it trembles so?

Em.

No, Vulcans fearefull.

Pol.

And with a feare it comes, haue at the Cuck∣kold.

Lnr.

Oh!

Pol.

Harke, the Arras is in labour.

Iul.

Mas I heard something groane.

Poly.

Ile be the Mid-wife and helpe to deliuer it.

Em.

Sweet Prince.

Pol.

Harke Wench, I smell Bores grease.

Em.

Will you but heare me?

Pol.

Now excuse what tricke? She whispers to him.

Em.

How? but a Picture? ile trie that presently, If you loue me, disfigure it not, I esteeme it onely for the liuely workmanship.

Pol.

Then let me haue a sight on't.

Em.

Vpon condition youle neither deface it with weapon, nor soile it with your breath—

Pol.

On my Virginities maiden-head wee will not discouer Lurdo behinde the Arras.

Iul.

Hart a the Deuill, your Vncle.

Pol.

O forbeare, fore God passing good workman indeede.

Em.

Marke but the glance of his eye.

Iul.

The hanging of his neither lip.

Pol.

The blush of his cheeke.

Win.

The curle of his haire.

Em.

The pit of a chin.

Jul.

What a smooth hand a hath?

Iul.

Long fingers like a Lady.

Win.

Not so much but a seale Ring.

Pol.

Armes and all, viz a tame Gudgeon.

Em.

And the foole swallowes it rarely, & you marke him.

Pol.

Is the numbe Asse insensible of Scoffes? Ile touch him neerer, yet mine eye deceiues me, And this be not Count Lurdoes counterfeit.

Iul.

You may soone know that my Lord.

Pol.

As How?

Iul.

If it be his, a hath the Gowte in his left foote,

Poll.

The verie same, his sh oe is cut and all, Farwell Tris, and yet ile startle him a little better a∣fore we leaue him, fore-god tis so like him, I doubt, wether it be the shadow or his substance.

Iul.

A blocke.

Em.

A shadow.

Win.

A meere sencelesse stone.

Pol.

Then tis a counterfeit.

Em.

An absolute counterfeit, what doe you meane?

Pol.

Marrie many Counterfeits walke in the like∣nesse of good mony, and so may this doe, which to preuent ile naile him to a poast, for feare a passe currant on your lips in my absence, and so deceiue me?

Em.

Ile sweare a shall not, gentle Prince be short, Length kils the heart of the moste feeling sport.

Pol.

Well Maiden, I am content, this iest shall re∣priue your head for this once, but beware the next en∣counter, come Ariadnes clew, will you vnwinde, and light vs through this vault of darkenesse, and theres your Naulum.

Win.

Thanke you my Lord, and your businesse stand this way at midnight, ile let you in by this token, and take this frō me, when you come againe, bring the

Lady a Diamond, or some prettie & foolish stone, for I cā tel you these same paultrie stones are in high request amongst Ladies, especially such old mowsers as I haue beene in my time, & as I say when you come, be not a∣sham'd to knock, and if I come not knocke lustely, and again, and neuer giue ouer knocking till you heare my hem, did you neuer know Wins hem?

Pol.

Neuer.

Iul.

Why hast thou a priuate hem?

Win.

Haue I? Ifaith sir I, few Gallants ith the town that are of any standing at all, but are acquainted with my hem, but come close my Lord, close, & besure the next time you come you doe not forget to knock lusti∣ly,

Exeunt, manent Lurdo and Emilia

Em.

My Lord.

Lu.

My Loue, my life, oh thou art made Out of the soule of wit, and thy conceits, Of the best fashion.

Em.

Did you taste the iest?

Lu:

Diuinely, oh diuinely, tart and quick, Pleasing, yet not teadious I was wrapt

Em.

In a knaues skin.

Lur.

My sences were entranc'd.

Em.

Into a fooles Paradice.

Lur.

Oh my sweet Phoenix, out of thy ashes.

Em.

Is your loue so hot, you meane to burne me▪

Lur.

Oh fit honnyed me, And then their numnesse, didst thou neuer reade Of any Lawyer came to be Duke?

Em.

Neuer, but I haue heard of a Cuckold that was an Vsurper.

Lur.

Why such a one would I be.

Em.

What, a Cuckold?

Lur.

Yes, and an Vsurper too.

Em.

So you are for you Lawyers vsurpe more crowns then halfe a Countrie.

Lur.

Vlisses, Tully, Lawyers, but no Dukes.

Em.

Menelaus and Vulcan were Cuckolds but no Lawyers.

Lur.

Fore-mee tistrue, but now I doe remember nought to that purpose:

Em.

The most lustfull Goates Weare guilded hornes, and goe in Veluet Coates.

Enter Win.

Lu.

Whatnewes Win?

Win.

Faith ordinarie houshold newes, yonders a wel-fac'd Gentleman craues a may change a word with you.

Lur.

His name?

Win.

Horatio.

Lur.

Leaue vs to confer.

Exeunt ambo

A trustie friends, the soules high Treasurer.

Enter Horatio

In dumps Horatio? what, my second selfe clowded with passion?

Hor.

O my honor'd Lord, Our soules and our affections are made all of one fashion now the slightest wrong that scars the reputation of my friend, stabs daggers to my heart.

Lu.

I know it true, and I can proou't, Our loues are twinnes, But to the wrong, dares any idle tongue Barke at our greatnes?

Hor.

Yes.

Lur.

Their names?

Hor.

Your wife.

Lur.

My wife? the manner?

Hor.

Mongst her lustfull Mates, She shame's not to giue out, that by your greatnesse, knowledge, credit, and friends in highest place, You haue diuorc'd her without due desert.

Lur.

We must demurie of this, ile haue a tricke

By way of Habeas Corpus to remoue This talking Gossip, come Hotatio, Some proiect, how? what course for her remoue:

Hor.

I cannot counsell, but fore-god my Lord, My lodgings mightily annoy'd with rats, That eate my papers and deface my books How should I rid them.

Lur.

Easily, poison them, And well remembred, this she Rat my wife, That eates and teares the leaues of my repute, Shall taste like speeding Phisicke in thine eare, Canst temper poison?

Hor.

Yes.

Lur.

And kill a Rat.

Hor.

That she shall neuer swell on't.

Lur.

Mum for that, This she Rat is a Deuill.

Hor.

A Limbe of Sathan.

Lur.

Enuy.

Hor.

Destruction.

Lur.

Mallice.

Hor.

Ratsbane doo't?

Lur.

Ere my disgrace get age, rare tricks and I will foole the world, woo't, doo't?

Hor.

The Rate shall die.

Exeunt seuerally.

Enter Countesse, three or foure young Gentle∣women, sowing by an houre-glasse.

Cou.

Quick prettie Damsels, that your task were done The fore-noones eldest minutes almost runne.

1 Gen.

Then the glasse runs to fast.

Cou.

I thinke not so, Hadst thou my cares, thoudst think it ran too slow.

2 Gen.

I haue my taske forsooth.

Co.

So haue not I.

Yet with these sands my sorrowes run away I turne them with the glasse, the glasse is run, Yet my hudge masse of cares is scarse begun, Here's a fault, little one what worke make you.

1 Gen.

True stitch forsooth.

Count.

Then see you worke it true.

3 Gent.

Pray madam teach me to take out this knot Of hearts ease.

Count.

Hearts ease, I haue almost forgot, I could haue wrought it well when I was young: But in good sadnesse, I haue had none long. What's that?

2 Gent.

A branch of Rue.

Count.

A comon weede, of all herbes else I worke that well indeede, how chance your flower is behinde the glasse?

2 Gen.

Indeede Ile get it vp:

Coun.

Indeede alas. I cannot chide with her, yet tyrant care, At my intreate will not one sight forbeare:

2 Gen.

Why sigh you madam?

Cou.

Oh I greeue to see, Youth run to cath at their owne misery. You are like Aprill or Rose buds in May, You neuer wither, till the wedding day, Euen so did I, so pretty soules will you, Youth wears mild Hearts ease, marriage bitter Ru••.

2 Gen.

Be not so sad, good madam, do b ut smile, Weele haue a song sad sorrow to beguille.

Cantant. Enter Horatio.

Hor.

Saue you faire Ladies, madam, my businesse leads me to you.

Execaeterae.

Count.

If in your antient suite, My cares are deafned and my vtterance mute.

Ho.

Your eare, be wood, what shold beget this coynes

Were I a stranger, or some Citty Gull I would comend thee, but I know the worlde. Lodging is costly, maintenance askes charge: Thou art diuorc'd and hast no other helpe, But thy bare comings in: accept my Loue, I w ill allow thee twenty pound a quarter. To buy thee Pinnes.

Count

Leaue this ymodest suite. Or by my honor—

Hor.

Come, these words of course My fame, myne honor, and my deare respect: Are but like Ignes fatui to delude, Greene and vnseason'd wits, pry thee be kinde, A guilded slip carryes as faire a show, As perfect gold, guilt honor may do so

Count.

But put your slip to triall, the slight gold, Is soone rubd of:

Hor.

Come, thy distinctions solde Let not thy Aprill bewty like a Rose, Fade in the bud, and ripened pleasures lose, My sword thy honor: thy estate my purse, Shall man an d strenghten,

Count.

I detest that course.

Hor.

Your husband hath a sweete heart:

Count.

For his ill. Shall I turne traitor & myne own fame kill?

Hor.

Tis▪ dead already, euery idle tongue, Stabs it to death.

Count.

I haue the greater wrong.

Hor.

Thou wrongst thy selfe & spurnst thy proper good Am I not youthfull see my wanton blood Daunceth within my vaines, and blushing, Courts Thy generous bewty to more amorous sports, You shall not choose.

Count.

hands of.

Hor.

I loue the e deere.

Count.

I hate thee deadly.

Hor.

Doost thou?

Cou.

Shall I sweare?

Ho.

No, ile beleeue thee Phoenix of thy sex, I glorie in thy vertues, and reueale, What by my oath I promisd to conceale. Your iealious husband vrgde me to this try all, Pawning his oath vpon your strict deny all, all bastard Iealosie should be exilde, and antient loue entirely reconsilde. I touch'd your heart, and now I finde it true, Ile giue you notice, ile impoison you.

Co.

Thou speak'st all comfort.

Hor.

I was made of hope. and rich perfourmance waits vpon my words.

Cou.

Father of my faire fortunes, whose rich loue begets this reuniting couenant,

When comes this long expected sealing day?

Hor.

To morrow, the houre eight.

Cou.

Certaine?

Hor.

As life.

Cou.

Then follow mee to feast, Thy newes Horatio is the Welcomest guest.

Exit

Hor.

Swell heart, hold bosom, yeeld not to relent, and yet her beautie, colourable trash, Her vertues, vengeance Hypocriticall, I loue her, furie, poison, Hidraes gall, Impatience man me, blacke damnation Vsher my practice, poyson play thy part, and doe my latest greetings to her heart. We all must downe, yet here the difference lyes. Many for sins, she for her vertue dyes.

Exit.

Actus Quartus.

Enter Polymetes Julio, Horatio, Emilia & Pages

Pol.

T Tristella.

Em.

My Lord?

Pol.

Good wine needes no bush, nor a good face

payting thou art fauour of thy selfe, and what thou cost is not vnder a colour.

Em.

I know no other paynter but one, and her name is modestie, and she sometimes throwes a blush into my face to make my pale cheeks red, but els you shall ne∣uer take mee for an Aldermans poast.

Po.

Why an Aldermans poest?

Em.

Marke but where great poasts are newly pain∣ted, you shall see much egresse & regresse in and out, & where you see a face newly okered, tis a signe ther's great traffique, & much stirring to and fro.

Po.

Come sit, sit, nay neerer, neerer, neerer yet.

Em.

Then I shall sit vpon your skirts.

Po.

Iulio and Horatio, what shal's haue to supper? I am now in the spending vayne.

Em.

Then God for mee▪ what make I so neare?

Po.

Good action, you shall not remooue, I learnt that phrase of myne vncle, boy, know what Adam hath bespoken for our palates.

Where there a banquet to be had, More rate and deere, then that Vitellius made: It shoulde be seru'd in, but Horatio, What shal wee eate that's costly, and that's rare?

Ho.

A roated Phoenix were excellent good for that Lady.

Em.

Andf why for that Ladye.

Ho.

Fare ech'd and deere bought, is good for you know hwo.

Em.

For Ladyes.

Ho.

I for Ladyes.

Em.

Then the most cheape stuffe, and next to hand is good for you know who.

Ho.

For knaues.

Em.

I for knaues.

Enter the Page and Adam.

Iu.

Adam what haue you ready.

Ad.

Sir you may haue a Calues head.

Em.

here's a Gentleman hath one in his hat already, no more. Calues head I pray thee.

Po.

Hast any Pheasants or Partriges?

Ad.

No, but if your Lord-shipe will haue a dish of Woodcocks.

Em.

No for God-sake, they are the stalest meate with me of any, for I neuer sit to meate with these gal∣lants, but there's Woodcocks cleane through the table.

Ad.

Then vnlesse you will haue a Dotrell or a Gull.

Em.

A Gull? why which of these Gent. woot thou serue in? do you not heare how Adam flouts you?

Ad.

I meane a Sea-gull bakt.

Em.

I in any case lets haue that, I haue fed my wit on many a land-Gull, once let mee banquet my selfe of a Sea-gull, some Sea Captain, I lay my life that has a desire to sup with mee, but such as thou hast, I prithee be briefe

Po.

Lay the table in the with-drawing roome.

Ad.

I will sir, your honor can haue no Larks Ile as∣sure you.

Poll.

And why?

Ad.

Two Citizens sonnes and a Poet bought vp all ith towne, flung away the bodies onely to haue a pye made of the braines.

Enter Duke Ferneze disguisd.

Emi.

A signe either they lackd braines, or else they did it because they would beare a braine.

Fer.

T was tolde me that the young Lord Polymetes Was entred here.

Po.

He that so tolde thee fellow tolde thee true.

Fer.

I cry your Lordship mercy, let this letter Supply th▪ vn willing office of my tongue, And be the sad reporter of my newes.

Poll.

What ominous news can Polimetes daunt? Haue we not Hyren heere?

Fer.

Ouid not all thy Metam orphosis Can shew such transformation, oh my God! It is not possible, (is this my sonne?) A has mistooke himselfe, my life a has, For the seauen liberall sciences; a reades, The seauen blacke deadly finnes. Must you needes sonne turne ouer these linnen leaues hauing such store of paper? this is miraculous.

Pol.

Newes, newes my hearts will make your iocund soules daunce in your bosomes, now which ioyfull tongue amongst you all cries first God saue the Duke? God saue Duke Polymetes.

Iu.

The newes is not so happy.

Po.

Tush looke here.

Fer.

My Lord I'me sorry for your he auinesse.

Po.

Thou shouldst haue said so to a Porter that's heauy loaden. But come, sit, sit in councell, let's deuize How to spend all this countlesse masse of wealth, My father hath bequeath'd mee at his death, Quite from the popular and vulgar garbe, We will be ode in all things, and retaine No common humor in our large expence.

Fer.

An honorable minde, and were your father A liue to note these hopefull parts in you, How would it moue him and surprize his heart? But now my lord: my message being done, I must returne i'me glad I haue found your sonne.

Po.

For thy good newes take that along with thee, Looke here Tris, would not these

(Exit Duke.

Make notable states-mē? methinks state steals vpō me.

Em.

And I haue knowne some steale state.

Pol.

Then they came neuer trnely by it as I doe, but pergite porro, methinkes I could make an indifferent careles Duke.

Iu.

And I could make a notable Courtier, methinks I am begging alreadie.

Pol.

O myne Vncle would make an Excellent Court spaniell, he would sent out offices & conceald lands, a hundred mile of, and a were my casheere but twentie yeares, I durst change liuings with him.

Emi.

But what employment for Horatio?

Pol.

O, he would make a good grumbling surly po∣litician, thou shalt be my politician.

Ho.

I shall neuer be lou'd.

Iu.

Not lou'd, your reason?

Iul.

I hate the base and rascall multitude, I cannot nod, ride bare-head through the streetes, Nor wreath my body like a Cable Hat-band To euerie Pedler and mechannick Townes-man, I hate the poore, am enuious at the rich, Loue none.

Pol.

Yes, women.

Hor.

Faith after a sort, I loue a good smooth face▪

Em.

Then you loue mine.

Hor.

And fortie more.

Pol.

I muse yoe doe not marrie.

Hor.

I would to night, vpon condition That I might burie her to morrow, God Boy.

Pol.

Fill him some wine.

Ho.

I cannot drinke, god boy.

Po.

It is not poyson'd.

Hor.

Hum, I cannot tell, The Countesse drunke and dide.

Po.

Come, come.

Hor.

Farwell.

Pol.

Still in the b••gs of Melancholly, pax on't, tis staler

then Tobacco, not so much but the singing Cob∣ler is growne melancholly, and correctes shoes in hu∣mour, fie ont, come sit, we must talke about many mat∣ters, Riuo, Ile bee singuler, m•• Royall expence shall run such a circular course that the Rascall spawne of Imitators shall split their wooden braines, and sinke their wealth in the Gulfe of prodigalitie, and yet like a bad Archers shaft, fall fixescore short of their ayme, my expence shall be royall and peculiar.

Em.

Ile fashion you a course.

Po.

Diuinely, come.

Em.

Diuinely indeede, serue God, liue honestly▪ rel∣lish not Atheisme.

Pol.

Thats cleane out of the fashion indeede.

Iul.

Then good.

Pol.

Because out of the fashion, set downe that Adam

Ad.

Tis done▪

Iul.

I hau't my Lord, I haue't yfaith.

Po

Nay quickly, how?

Iul.

Weele keepe no Pages.

Po.

Excellent, that's cleane out of the fashion for Pa∣ges, that's good, that stands, downe with it Adam.

Ad.

Tis done sir.

Iul.

Weele vse no great Horses.

Pol.

How shall we ride then?

Hor.

On Mules and shee Asses.

Em.

Downe with that Adam.

Pol.

But, for my traine, for a Page with Pages,

Em.

Maintaine a hundred Gallants at your heeles, Liue in the Countrie, entertaine agen Into the Court, long-banish'd hospitalitie,

Who since the first great hose with Codpeeces grewe out of fashion neere durst shew his head.

Po.

Another, set it downe, ile spend after fortie po d a day, ile see which of my cheuerill braind immitators dares follow my fashion: sblood I cannot drinke To∣bacco

two daies, but the third the Church wardens & fidemen are at it in the Alehouse in sermon time, I can∣not weare a sute halfe a day but the Tailors Iourny∣man creepes into't: I cannot keepe a block priuate, but euery Citizens sonne thrusts his head into it: I cannot keepe a wench but euery grand-Iurors sonne in the Countre imitates me, I care not if I make it petty trea∣son for any man to kisse vnder ten pound a Kisse.

Ad.

Oh my Lord, twill neuer passe ith the Lower∣house, they will not loose their libertie of kissing.

Hor.

Then keepe a leash of Wenches.

Po.

As common as cracking of nuts, not a seruing∣man, but doth as much.

Iul.

Fore-god I hau't, peculiar I haue't.

Pol.

What ist Iulio?

Iul.

Your honour shall keepe no wenches at all.

Em.

No wenches? what shall become of me then?

Pol.

I must be round with you Tris, you must pack, many women they say are common, and ile entertaine nothing that sauors of Communitie, I wil not diuulge.

Em.

Nay, but hark you my Lord, though you main∣taine me, you doe not lye with me, and I thinke that's the newer fashion.

Pol.

Fore-god the newest of all, for there's not a gallant maintaines his wench but a will lye with her, downe with that Adam.

Ad.

Tis done.

Enter Ioculo the Page.

Ioc.

My Lord my Lord, the Duke your father with a great traine is comming.

Pol.

From heauen or hell.

Ioc.

That's more then I knowe, but by the faith of a page, or the worde of a Gent. which you will, hee is a∣riu'd and in great state entred the Cittie.

Iu.

Zounds wheres the slaue that brought the falsere∣port of his death?

Pol.

But art sure tis my father?

Ioc.

Or else your Mother did you the more wrong, shift for your selues, for he is come.

Pol.

My father aliue and come home, hart a me what shift? come home & finde the Court turnd Ale-house Dicing-house, Dauncing schoole, I am vndone horse and foote.

Em.

Some Rosasolis or Aqua mirabilis ho, for our ge∣nerall coward's in a swoune.

Po.

I know you are a hot shot in a feather-bed Tris, but that will uot serue turne now, therefore fall off, the enemie is too strong, deede Tris, euerie Lambe to his fold, and Cony to her Borough, for the olde Foxe is a∣broad no, wilt not bee? why then God a mercyes braine.

Cedant arma togae, my gowne and bookes boy, some sudden deuise to keepe him back halfe an houre, and win my good opinion for euer.

Ioc.

And I doe not, let mee die of the bastina•• doe.

Exeunt.

Enter Duke Ferneze, Angelo, and other Nobles attendants.

Duke.

Lords, make a stand, I wonder that our Sonne glads not our wisht arriuall with his presence.

Ang.

No doubt my Lord, his honourable care, Is not acquainted with your sudden landing.

Duk.

We take it so, and whilst our selfe in person Enquire the cause, attend vs in the Hall, Little thinkes he his father is so neere, But vnexpected, ile goe startle him, And put his wit vnto the present try all.

Enter Ioculo.

Pag.

where's the Prince?

Io.

my most honor'd Lord? In priuate conference with an English poast.

Du.

An English poast?

Io.

An English post my Lord: the effect of his letters I know, not but I heard him begin a most strange dis∣course.

Du.

Of what I prithee?

Io.

Please your honor take a turne or two, I shall re∣late (quickly my Lord) heereports there fell such an Inundation of waters in the moneth of Iuly, about the third of dog-dayes, that the Owers and Scullers that vse to worke in the Thames, rowd ouer houses & landed their faires in the middle Ile of Paules.

Du.

Ist possible?

Io.

Very easely possible (sfoot quickly) and more the fishermen that rid betweene Douer and Calis, tooke red spurlin, and she Mackerell in the midst of the Exchange, which made mutton so cheepe and stale, that it is thought the better halfe of the townes∣men will run horne mad about it.

Du.

It cannot be.

Io.

Not be? why looke you sir,

Du.

Nay.

Io.

But heare the conclusion, iust on Saint Lukes day coming shal be a twelue-month, Westminster & Win∣chester, drinking a quart of wine together on Salis∣bury-playne fell into hard words and strange termes, there was thou knaue and I knaue, and such foule words, as if tow young Barristers had bene breathing their wits for a wager, (sfoot make an ende) now it was thought Westminster stood most vpon his termes, yet in the end Winchester got one of his best termes

from him spight on his teeth, which so vext West∣minster, that it grew to a deadly fewd, which was so hottly pursude that the taking vp of the matter cost many broken heads.

Du.

How.

Ju.

So sir, (sfoot not done yet?) and had not Cha∣ring-crosse a tall bow legd Gent: taken vp the matter, tis thought Westminster stones would haue bin too hot for some of them: and in parting the fray, Cha∣ring-crosse got such a box o'the eare, that hee will carry it to his deathsday, some say a got a wry neck by parting the fray, marry Winchester sayes flatly, a got a creeck in his neck, with looking westward for Termers.

Du.

Thou shouldst haue tolde me.

Iu.

Of the English poast▪ why looke you my Lord, the poast comming in poast-hast to shew his duty to the Prince, stumbled at a post that lay in his way and broke his sinister shanck, and so I breake of my discourse and bid your honor welcome home.

Exits

Du.

What a strange tale is here? of slouds and hills of Charing-crosse, Termes▪ and I know not what? and when I loo'd for the conclusion.

A breaks of all and leaues me in a Cloud.

Enter Iulio.

Du.

There is some trick in't, honord▪Iulio?

Iu.

Health to my Soueraigne.

Du.

How fares our Sonne? Haue your inducements drawn him from his humor?

Iu.

Faith my Lord I haue done a childes part, and almost spent a childes part, to draw him to society, but tis labor lost.

Du.

What is his businesse with the English poast?

Iu.

The English poast my Lord? your grace is

merry.

Du.

His boy informd mee a held conference, Bout serious matters with an English poast.

Iu.

Alas my Lord, the boy is lunatique.

Du.

How lunatique? and a fo••e god me thought A tolde a mad discourse, but th' occasion.

Iu.

I t••ll you my Lord, comming a bruptly as your honor o•• any else may do to the Princes cham∣ber, about some ordinarie seruice, a found him in his study, and a company of botlno••'d Deuils dauncing the Irish hay about him, which on the sudden so startled the poore boy, as a cleane lost his wittes, and euer since talkes thus idle, as your Excelence hath heard him

Du.

But tell mee doth my sonne conuerse with Deuils?

Iu.

As familiarly as you and I, they are his only company keepers, when a hath bene duld at his study, I haue knowne a Deuill and hee play at Ticktack for phillips, by the whole day together.

Du.

Tis passing strange, but may wee without danger go neere his study?

Iu.

At yonr honors spleasure,

Discouer Polymetes in his study.

Iu.

See where a sits, be Patient and obserue.

Po.

preuented still? now by Medusass snakes, And black Erinnis euer burning lampe, If all the skill in pyromantique rules, Deep Eromancy, or the precious soule, Of Ge man▪ique spells and Characters Grauen in the sur fase of our mother earth,

Can worke this strange atcheiuement,

Aug.

How his braine sweates in pursuite of lear∣ning

Duk.

Oh attend.

Poly.

The first house is vulgariz'd, the Horoscop or Angle of the Orient, and his Ascendant betokeneth beginning of life, Marchandise, marriage and—

Duke.

Lets breake him off.

Iul.

So please your excellence.

Pol.

The second and third house, the third House is cadent from the Angle of the Orient, and Ascendant to the Angle Septent••ionall, signifying Fathers Sisters and Daughters absent and lost, Daughters and fathers lost: here then I finde my demaund, the Maid lost my Sister, thus then I proportion my figure, there I place my witnesses, and heere my Iudge, and thus proceede to the Inuocation.

Iul.

Renowned Prince, Prince Polymetes, zoundes Prince.

Pol.

Discourteous Iulio, giue my studdie leaue.

Ju.

Hart not a ••ot, the Duke your father.

Pol.

Ile make my father ioyfull by my toile, Had not thy folly interiupted me, My hopes ere this had met their period.

Au.

Your princely father.

Pol.

O torment me not with his remembrance.

Iul.

S'blood hee's safe returnd.

Poly.

O would a were, then should not Genoaes Crowne, For want of strong supportance be prest downe. I〈…〉〈…〉 not enough, that like a harmeles Prince Spending my hou••es in Contemplation, I let you holde the raines of gouerment. Vnfit for me, my father hath a deepe And searching iudgement that can brush and sweepe

such idle brayn'd and antique Parasites, Forth of his presence, pray your absence,

Du.

I can but smile to sue how Protheus like, They turne the shape of their discourse & proiect, Thinking to leade me in an idle maze, after their folly, well, Ile temporize, and note the issue, come my Lords let's in, His humour's grounded, and like subtle fier: The more supprest, it mounts so much the hier.

Iu.

Why so, this iest came smoothly of and was not soild in the working

Exeunt.

Po.

That boy is worth his waight in pearle, dist marke what a tale of a Cock and a Bull, he tolde my father whilst I made thee and the rest away, by a bill of Conuey anee at his back?

Iu.

And I did simple Knights seruire in perswading the Duke the boy was lunatique.

Po.

twas admirable, doth not this iest deserue to be chronicled?

Iu.

No by my troth, yet I must needs say, some as bad haue bin, for how soeuer our practise passe currant with your father for the present, our villanyes must needs break▪ forth, they are so notorious and publique.

Po.

No matter let▪am, haue not we brayns? brayns and they be well mincde are sauce for any meate, let mine vncle turne Turxe and break forth, let the whole towne turne cuckold and blow their hornes in our disgrace, I haue brains, let the Sunne and the seauen Stars be oppos'd, I haue brayns for that too my present wit shall giue▪am all the lye in their throates, and may ntayne it at pocket, dagger, and pi∣stoll when I haue done.

Enter Horatios page.

Iu.

A mourner boy? what solemne funerall, Hath hung that sable liuery on thy back?

Pa.

Her death my Lord that hath cut out the like, For both your honors, the Countesse is deceast.

Pol.

Then will my vncle be a hauy mourner. But how the manner of her death?

Pa.

Ile eell your honor that hereafter and giue you the ground of an admirable ie ast.

Pol.

And we play not true moals and worke it out of the ground, let me dye of the greene-sicknsses.

Iu.

The ground then comes?

Pa.

No Ile tell you that in priuate, the life of a iest thriues in the first reuealing, it concernes the manner of your avnts death and a law-trick of your vncle.

Pol.

Come to the solemperites, and weepe at least those being ended wele receiue y our iest.

Exeunt.

Solemnpe Musique to a funerall song the Herseborne ouer the stage, Duke Lurdo, Polymetes, Angelo, Iulio, Horatio and mouners &c.

Exeunt.

Manet Horatio.

Ho.

What is a man? hart a the Deuill meere fools, His rich inuention, Machiuilian plots: Idle illusiue antick phantasies. Apelles grapes, I had as full a brayne, Fertile inuention and as forward hopes, As man could father, or his wit bring forth: Yet in a minute in bubles age, The venomdfury of a bitter spleene, Confounded all, forgetfull that I was, Women are moulded out of bashfulnesse: And must be drawne to kindnesse by degrees. All this I knew.

Enter Count. Lurdo.

Lur.

Neither the Law nor I,

Know any reason why Horatio. But mum, Law-tricks as closely as I can, Mine eare shall drinke his meditation.

Hor.

Had she ••uruiu'd Time—

Lur.

Might haue found vs out, Good, firme in Law, I am a foole to doubt, His constant secrecie.

Hor.

But now shee's dtad.

Lur.

The deepest wit could not haue bettered, Our smooth conueyance, but vpright and streight, Vnknowne, vnseene, ile worke vpon conceit.

Exit

Hor.

Had she bene liuing, golden promises, The smoothe Atturneys to a Louers tongue Might haue in time solicited my suite, Guiftes might haue pleaded, mournefull Elegies, Told her my passions, had she bene composde Of steele or flint, nay, made of womens hearts, The most obdurate mettle, Time and Art, But she is dead, oh hell! and in her tombe. My hopes are buried.

Enter count Lurdo againe.

Lur.

My conceited braine, Hath an odde crotchet call'd me backe againe.

Hor.

To all these bad mis-fortunes should the Corn•• vse any trickes?

Lur.

Ha? a talkes of trickes, Of count and tricks, for trickes and count are twinns.

Hor.

Yet I regard not.

Lur.

I am right and streight.

Hor.

Say a complaine?

Lur.

Suppose he tell the Duke he gaue the poison.

Hor.

He contriu'd her death and cannot wrong me,

Lur.

Fie, I feare him not, He doth but father, what my braine begot.

Exit.

Ho.

This comfort yet which many want I haue, To follow my faire fortunes to the graue.

Exit

ACTƲS QƲINTƲS

Enter Horatiots Page With a Theeues Lauthorne.

Page.

OH, shall I venter? ha, shall I enter? Shield me Appollo, the groūd is so hollow That euerie step I treade vpon it, Methinkes it sings a dead mans Sonnet. Fates, oh Fates be honest Drabs, Feare giues me ten thousand stabs, I dare not further tis wilfull murther, Thus late to treade the cloyster vaults. For though i'me small, I haue great mens faults, Then gentle Fates, take some remorse, I watch an honest, kinde, quick course. Graunt that no Hobgoblins fright me, No hungrie deuils rise vp and bite me: No Vrchin, Elues, or drunkards Ghoasts, Shoue me against walles or postes, O graunt I may no black thing touch, Though many men loue to meete such. But heere's the tombe, my hopes suffizing, I watch a dainrie Duckes vprising, Her cheekes now are chilly, as is the pale lilly, (Roses) But when her eye vncloses, theile looke like two faire

Enter Horatio with a light.

A light my maister? or some spright, Yet What neede Deuils haue candle-light, Tis he, all hid, ile not be seene, For once this tombe shall be my screene.

He hides himselfe.

Hor.

I cannot rest, my guilt keepes ope mine eyes. My passion rips my bosome, and my blood Is turn'd to poysoned water, and so swels, That my vext soule, endures a thousand hels. If I chance slumber, then I dreame of Serpents,

Toades, altogether, and such venomous euils, As hale me from my sleepe like forked Deuils, Midnight, thou Aethiope, Empresse of black soules, Thou general Bawde to the whole word, I salute thee, Wishing thy poison dropt vpon my braine, For my so rude, so rash, so heedeles murther, In the ambition & the height of lust, Not giuing my blood libertie to coole. To poison such a beautie, O black Fate! Thus many killd, too soone repent too late. Soft, stay, this sames the chilly monument, That huggs her bodie in his marble armes. Thou gentle soule of my deceased loue? O, wert but possible to inioy thy voice, Thy sweet Harmonious voice, I should be blest, But Eene to dally with thy silables, O tombe.

Pa.

No tombe but Cesterne fild with teares.

Ho.

O heart!

Pa.

No heart, but sinke of greefe and feares.

Hor.

Countesse, soule shaddow, shadow speak again▪

Pa.

Speake agen.

Ho.

What should I speake, my hate, or thy huge wrongs?

Pa.

Hudge wrongs.

Hor.

Hudge wrongs indeede, but charitable soule, What ransome shall I pay thee for thy life?

Pa.

Thy life.

Ho.

My life?

Pa.

〈…〉〈…〉 life.

Ho.

Discourteous ayre, My blood is frozen with dispaire.

Pag.

Dispaire.

Hor.

Pardon forgiue me, shall I goe?

Pa

I goe.

Hor.

But shall your hate pursue me, I or no?

Pa.

No.

Hor.

Adieu my greefe and ile go sleepe.

Pa.

Pray God my tongue can my hearts coūsel keep

Pa.

Ha? are you vanisht? let me see, a may be fallen a sleepe against some pillar, for ile be sworn a talk'd ve∣rie idely, Abut decessit euasit erupit, I would fain know that Wag that can put me down for a womans Ghoast extempore, especially if it were to be performde vnder a tombe cloath, but heere lay the desperate venter, had she chaunc'd to haue risen, and spoke before hir qu, as about this time she must tise, or my sleepie drinke plaies, the drowsie companion with her.

Enter Horatio againe.

Hart a me, my maister againe, what crosse points are these? I see I must betake me to my late refuge.

Hor.

It was no Ghoast, subtile opinion, Working in mans decayed faculties, Cuts out and shapes illusiue fantasies, And our weak apprehensions like wax, Receiue the frome, and presently conuey Vnto our dull immagination. And hereupon we ground a thousand lyes, As that we see Deuils ratling their chaines, G••astes of dead men, varietie of spirits, When our owne guiltie conscience is the hell. and our black thoughts, the Cauerns where they dwel: Yet sure this was her shadow, for I heare Her last words sound still dauncing in mine eare. Then gentle soule▪ if thou beest yet vnthronde, Answere one question and no more.

Pa,

No more?

Hor.

May my hearts true repentance satisfie, My wi••ful▪ murther, your replie.

Pa.

I.

Ho.

Thanks, thousand thanks, and so farewell.

Po.

Farewell.

Ho.

The bane of murder is dispaire and hell.

Exit.

Pa.

Was euer poore little knaue put to his last trumps as I am? what shall I do now▪ my heart goes pit a pat in my belly like a paire of washing beetles, should a returne again now, as my hand to a Lobster∣pye a will, all the Fat were in the fier, but harke tis one a clock, and iust about this minute she should play the wagtaile and stur.

Count.

What trance was this? where am I?

Pa.

Oh she speaks, Fates and be good girles keepe my maister away, and let his man haue a little sport with his mistresse.

Count.

What place is this? am I in heauen or no.

Pa.

No.

Count.

What voice is that? is this place earth?

Pa.

Earth.

Count.

Earth? how came I hither? do I liue again?

Pa.

Liue again.

Count.

What voice is that? a woman or some youth?

Pa.

Youth.

Count.

My feares will murther me, my powers are frighted.

Pa.

Ahlas poore stirring ghost art ouer sprighted.

Count.

Boy.

Pa.

mestresse.

Count.

Tell mee.

Pa.

all and more anon. The sleepy drink hath plaid the honest man,

Cou.

What sleepy drink? how came I in this tombe?

Pa.

Ile tell you that in a more priuate roome, Away Ile tell you a strange wonder, Then wintes lightning, or Christmas thunder, Then to my fathers trip and go, Nimble preuention ont runs woe.

Exeunt.

Enter Ferneze the Duke, Count, Lurdo, Angelo, Horatio and Adam with others atendant.

Du.

No more of mourning brother, we haue laid Our timelesse sorrowes in a quiet graue, When men interre their comfort let them weepe: Not when their crying charme is laide to sleepe.

Lu.

Great Duke mine eyes are not thus great with teares, For our griefes funerall, but that her shame, And future scandall will out liue her name,

Du.

Come let mirth kill it, and to your discourse, Is our sonne growne vnto that height of riot Your speeches intimate.

Lu.

I know the law, if I haue wrongd the Prince, I stand in compas of a praemonire, And he by writte of ad quod dampnum may, sue his recouery, I know the law.

Du.

Nay his owne letter partly graunts asmuch, But note his subtle reason, here a writs, That of set purpose a laid by himselfe, And plaid the parte of a wilde prodigall, Onely to put your loue vnto the test, On which aduantage to igrese his wealth, You did indea••e him to society, Of carelesse wantons and light Curtezans, Made secret vaults and cellers vnder ground.

Lu.

Non tenet in bocardo I demurre, Do but send out your Jterum summoneas, Or capias vt legatum to attach, And bring him viua voce tongue to tongue, And vi & armis Ile reuenge this wrong.

Du.

Leaue that to triall, here a further writte••, That by his skill and practize in black Art, He hath found out and by much toile redeemd, My daughter from the Turkish seruitude.

Lo.

Redeemde your daughter▪ an apparent error, Which you by way of melius inquiren dum. May soone discuse, he ran some home your daughter As sure as I made cellers vnder ground, Or playd his pandar.

Du.

How so ere it proue, I meane to try the vtmost of his wit, To see how quaintly he can beare himselfe: But who comes here.

Enter Emilia.

Ad.

Marry my good Lord, this is the greene bur, that stuck so close to the young Princes sleeue, the shoemakers cutting knife, that fitted his boots to the prodigalls last.

Lo.

If I be Compos mentis, this is shee, Must play your daughters part, my Lord be ware, Worke close cock sure, I se the gin the snare.

Em.

Most reuerend father.

Lo.

Father? now it fits, Ware an olde Fox, Duke I haue braynes I haue wits.

Du.

Immodest impudent and shameles girle, Is't not enough thou hast mis-led my sonne, And wrong his reputation?

Em.

How wrongd him father? I must needs say I haue playd Will with the wispe with my brother and haue led him vp and downe the maze of good fellow∣ship, till I haue made his wit and his wealth both turne sick but for any other wrong, I appeale to him∣selfe, my vncle honest Iulio, where is a? and all the rest of this good Audience, therefore pray good father.

Du.

Out of my sight, thou art no childe of myne,

Em.

Y'are the more beholding to some of your neigh¦bours, tut mā looke on mee well, here's your now ne nose, and thick kissing lip vp and downe, and my

mother were liuing, she would neuer busse you more, till you confest I were your daughter.

Du.

What an audatious naughty pack is this? Haue her before a Iustice, Adam.

Em.

Do, with all my heart good father, send mee to a Iustice, for apretty woman with a smooth tongue and an Angels voice, can do much with Iustice in this golden age, but thus much afore I go, if Iustice will not p••ouide me a better father, Ile haue you, or Ile giue the beadle of the ward a fee to cry, a new fa∣ther a new, as they do oysters at Call••is.

Exit.

Du.

Brother cre you acquainted with this woman?

Lo.

I must needs say that at my nephews suite, I gaue her a months lodging and her diet. But Nada veritate in bare truth, & bona side without circumstance, Splendente Sole the bright Sun nere sawe, A wench more capable of wit and law, And how soere she is with bewty grac'd, I dare engage myne honor she is chast,

Du.

I giue your words good credit, yet tis tare, to finde a woman wanton, chast and fayre, But now vnto my sonne, whose powerfull art, Striues to vngiue his sisters seruitude.

Polimetes in his study.

Pol.

Thanks He eate, thou hast insphearde my hope In a golde circle, o were my father here, This fight would of his age bate twenty yeare.

Du.

What sight my sonne.

Po.

Lend mee your watry eye, That swims in passion for my sisters losse, And in this booke prospectiue, let it read, Apleasing lecture.

Du.

I conceiue two shapes. A ciuill marchant and a bewteous mayd. Their pace is speedy and my slower eye,

Cannot keepe way with their celerity.

Po.

That maid's my sister, whome on magiques wing, To this fayre presence, my rich Art shall bring, Prepare to meete them, for this minutes age, sends with my charme their airy pilgrimage.

Enter Iulio like a Marchant, and Ioculo like a Lady.

Iu.

Where are are we now? how strang 〈◊〉〈◊〉 were we borne Vpon the pinions of the fleeting ayre, And where dismounted? vnto what great Prince Christian or Pagan longs this mansion.

Io.

Are we in any sociable place? Or in the Cell of some Magitian, Who by his skill in hellish exorcismes, Made vs his thrall?

Du.

I can forbeare no longer, Welcome thrice wellcome.

Iu.

Welcome?

Io.

Whence?

Iu.

To whome?

Du.

to mee.

Ang. to vs. Du.

Thy father.

Lu.

and thy friendes.

Io.

do not beguile vs, O Demetrio? We are betraid, see the Magtiian, That by his cunning and strong working charmes, Brought vs vnknowne.

Du.

••••to thy fathers armes, Welcome Emilia, with this Iuory chayne, I sphaere my hopes and in thy bosome rayne, These teares of comfort, then embrace thy friends. Thy Brothers Arte all further difference endes.

Io.

Your Citty.

Du.

Genoa▪

Io.

And your reuerend name.

Duk.

Ferneze.

Io.

Father.

Lur.

Yes the verie same, I doe remember when she went to nurse, What a curst vixen twa▪s, but now shee's growne.

Io.

Not past all goodnes, yet I hope s••r: but yfaith Brother wast you that brought vs from Turky a cock∣horse? and your Genoan hackneye be so quick pac'd you shall haue more of our Custome.

Duke.

Lay by discourse, what Gentleman is that comes vninuited to our feast of ioy.

Ioc.

Pray welcome him father, hee's a Genoan mar∣chant, that with much suite ransom'd mee from the Turke.

Duk.

My hopes redeemer welcome, but proceede Vnto the doubtfull fortunes of my childe: Twas tolde me she was stolne from Monta sancta.

Iul.

You helpe my memorie, thence she was stolne, And for her beautie, chosen Concubine To the lasciuious Turke, but by much sute, And meditation of some speciall friends, I bought her freedome with a thousand markes▪

Duk.

Which weele repay with ample interest, Once more weele bid you welcome, and to set A smoother glosse vpon our merryment, There's a quicke Wench that onely liues by wit, Who vnderstanding I had lost my Daughter, Borrow'd thy habit, and Vsurpes thy name, One call her in, now Daughter make thee sit, To combat and dismount her actiue wit.

Exit. Adim

Lur.

A parlous Girle, her wits a meere Snaphaunce, Goe's with a fire locke, she strikes fire from stones, Shee knowes the Law too, a meere murthering peece,

Fight lowe, locke close, shee speakes meere▪ lightning Neece.

Enter Adam with Emilia.

Em

How now father, haue you put on your cōsidering Cap, and bethought you? or shall I proceede and tra∣uerse my writ of errors?

Lur.

Ha, writ of errors? Law-trickes, words of Art Demurrs and quillets.

Em.

All not worth a pinne, will you bethinke you father?

Du.

I haue bethought me, and to let thee see, The true proportion of thy impudence, Behold my Daughter, whome thon personat'st.

Em.

How, yout Daughter?

Ioc.

Yes minkes, his Daughter.

Lur.

My neece, and I will make it good.

Em.

Prittie yfaith, haue ye any more of these tricks? I may be out-fac'd of my selfe with a Carde often, but yfaith Vncle, the best knaue 'ith bunch, nor all the law in your Budget cannot doo't, & as for you Sisley bum∣trinkets, ile haue about with you at the single Stackado are you a woman?

Io.

No.

Em.

What then?

Io.

A Maide.

Iu.

If his tongue falter, all our plots bewraide.

Em.

If a true maide, lend a true maide your hand.

Ioc.

Both hand and heart

Em.

The like of me commaund, Now I coniure thee by the loue Y••u beare Dian••es frien•• Groue, By Cupids bo ve, and go den arrow, Venus Doue, and chirping Sparrow, By all those vo〈…〉〈…〉es, the listning windes, Heare when Maides v••claspe their mindes. By those sweete oathes men vse in bed, Beseeging of a Maiden head.

I doe coniure you fore these Lords, To answere truely to my words.

Io.

By these and more, by all the scapes Of amorous Ioue and Phoebus rapes, By Louers sweet, and secret meetings, Hand embracings and lip-greetings, I promise you before these Lords, To answere truely to your words.

Em.

Where were you borne?

Ioc.

In Genoa.

Em,

Your name?

Ioc.

Emilia.

Em.

Lye not.

Ioc.

Twere open shame to lye before so many.

Em.

In what Art were you instructed?

Ioc.

That's not in my part.

Po.

Say musique.

Em.

Quickly▪

Io.

I was taught to sing, Vnto the Lute, and Court each amorous string With a soft finger.

Em.

Good, how many springs Liu'd you in Monta Santa?

Ioc.

Zoundes this stings.

Em.

How many?

Iul.

Nine.

Po.

Zoundes ten.

Io.

Ten fops.

Fm.

Nay quicke

Ioc.

Twixt nine and ten▪

Duke.

Right, answeare.

Iul.

I'the nick.

Em.

Your age?

Io.

What?

Iul.

Any thing.

Em▪

Come, fie, you linger.

Io.

I am iust as old.

Em.

As what?

Io.

my little finger.

Em.

You dally

Iu.

Sixteene.

Po.

Eighteene.

Io.

Eighteene fooles,

Du.

Nay and you prompt weele hisse you forth the schooles.

Em.

Come your reply, nay quick your certen age,

Io.

I am iust as old as—true Emilaes page.

Du.

A page?

An.

Disguisde?

Ad.

Wrapt in a womans smock?

Io.

Ime in a wood.

Em.

And I can spring a cock,

In.

Woodcock of our side:

Em.

And you bill so faire, Make a cleere glade, Ile single forth a paire.

Po.

Fie her witte scaldes.

Lur.

We shall haue change of weather.

Iul.

Cocks of one hen, come prince, lets hold toge∣ther.

Em.

I thought we should finde a Counterfeit of you

Io.

Then naile me to your lips with a kisse, and make me currant paiment.

Du.

What, young Orlando? how dooes Charing-Crosse? Is Westminster yet friendes with Winchester?

Po.

Zoundes Iulio now.

Jo.

Alas my Lord, it was a meere deuice to—

Iul.

Make your Highnesse merry, when I heard You were return'd without your wish'd Aduenture.

Du.

Oh Maister Marchant, you aduenturd well, To cheate your selfe thus of a thousand markes,

Em.

How now my Lord?

Lur.

Nay, ile but see your brest, mine eyes desire,

No lower obiect.

Em.

Go to, reade your errors.

Lur.

I cannot now returne, non est inuenta, Brother embrace your childe, your second heire, I found firme witnes in her bosome bare.

Du.

Art thou Emilia?

Em.

Emelia, your Daughter, once a Turkish prisoner

Du.

Receiue a ioyfull blessing rise and say, What wit or power freed thee.

Em.

Deere father, the manner both of my enlarging and captiuing ile relate, when more conuenient time and place shall incite me, but vpon this occasion, pray giue me leaue to put my brother beside his melācholy

Du.

I prethee do so.

Em.

Why how now Student? grand Magitian, Puritane, come, you neuer plaide the Wag, You know not Winefrides hem, nor the Counts vault.

Du.

A'mort man? what, can Polymetes daunt? Hath a not Hyren heere?

Po.

Zoundes all will out, braines—

Du.

Now for a hundred dozen of Larkes to make a pie of the braines.

Po.

Well, done it was, and out it must.

Du,

Why how now Polymetes in a dumpe? Wheres your Ʋenetian Marchant and your Sister?

Po.

Who? Emilia? why looke you heere father, doe you thinke I knew her not? aske the Boy and Iulio, do you thinke I would haue maintaind her as I did but onely for affinities sake? what saide I at first Nuncle? did I not vrge affinities? and you would see me hang'd say and I did not vrge affinitie?

Em.

And yet you pleaded hard for a nights lodging

Poly.

Onely to try thy honesty by this Element, aske my vncle else?

Enter Horatioes Page and Whisper with Polimetes.

Em.

Hee's a sweet womanist.

Lur,

No more a that, neece y'are a wag.

Em.

Well said old water Ratt, But that my brother Coniurer should faile, In the black Art.—

Lu.

In the black Pudding: pish, Of all arts else, onely the law is firme.

Em.

And yet that danceth changes euery Terme.

Po.

Well ieston gallants, and vncle, you that make a pish at the black Art, my books to the peece of Ar∣ras, where Venus and Adonis stood kissing and the cuckoldly pandar Vulcan watch'd them, and all your by waies to boot, I raise vp my Aunt your late wife in the same proportion, habit and gesture, shee vsually wore in her life time.

Du.

Do that, Ile sweare there's vertue in thy Art.

Po.

And if I do not, say Philosophie is foolery, Logique legerdemaine, and Coniuring meere coui∣catching, as indeed it is.

And now by vertue of this wand, Each in his circle keepe his stand, Now Belioll and Astaroth, Sole commaunders of the North, By H••cates head, E••innis snakes, S••ix and all infernall Lakes, I charge you kneele to Proserpine, And by her licence all deuine Dismisse the Countesse from those shades, Where pleasure springs and neuer fades. Festina, ci••o, c••tius, come free Tenant of Elizium.

Enter Countesse, she writes a little, throwes downe the paper and departs.

Du.

The Count look, pale.

Ang.

why starts Horatio?

Lu.▪

What writte the shadow?

Po.

That, these lynes will show, Horatio, base Horatto poysond me, I was your sister, right mine iniurie.

Du.

Horatio?

Lu.

Yes, Horatio poisond her Reuenge it Duke be a true Irsticer.

Du.

Reueng't I wil, degenerous homicide, What reason led thee to so dam'd a deed?

Hor.

I lou'd her, wood her, my hot loue denide Changde into hate, I poison'd her, she dyde.

Du.

Sounds this like truth.

Ho.

And if you thinke I lye, Aske Lurdo, his damb'd tongue will answere I.

Duk.

Had he a hand in't?

Lur.

No, I will demurre.

Ad.

Reuenge it Duke, be a true Iusticer.

Lur.

He gaue the poison.

Hor.

And you laide the plot

Ad.

Knit vp two villaines in one riding knot.

Poly.

What quillet now?

Iul.

At non plus.

Em.

Senceles, mute? Silence cries guiltie, a lets fal the suite.

Lur. Hor.

Our sentence guiltie,

Du

Then be this your doome, You shall be clos'de aline in her dead tombe.

Ang.

Vrge a reprieue:

Lur.

Our punishment defer,

Du.

No, we must be an vpright Iusticer; To the execution.

Hor.

Doe, the world shal proue My heart's as bolde to die as twa's to loue.

Lur.

Birlady so is not mine, ide giue my goods, For a good habous Corpus, to remoue me Into another Countrie.

Du.

Leaue demurrs, Close them into that graue, that dead mans Inne,

Pitie true vertue should be lodg'd with sinne.

Hor.

Make roome deare Madam, law this leaue doth¦giue To die by thee with whome I could not liue,

Lur.

And wronged Countesse though I hated thee, I come to take my latest sleepe with thee.

Countesse in the Tombe.

Cou.

Kind thou art welcome, and shalt euer haue, My armes thy winding sheete, my brest thy graue.

Du.

Sister?

Po.

Aunt?

Em.

Madam?

Lur.

My much wronged wife?

Cou.

Iustice great Duke, giue me my husbands life, Both his and his, if your demaund be why, See she surniues for whose death they should die.

Du.

Aliue.

Lur.

Vnblemish't.

Hor.

S'blood I gaue her poison.

Pa.

I could tell your honour a tale in your eare to the contratie, I must needes say your wil was good, but my father being your drug-seller, instead of a deadly poi∣son, gaue you a sleepie potion, doe you remember the Ecc••o at the tomb? though I plaid the knaue with you, I did like an honest man with her.

Lur.

Thou did stiudeede, and ile requite thee well.

Pol.

How now Vncle? what thinke you of Schol∣lership now?

Lur.

As of the law, good as it may be vsd, But to my wife.

Duke.

Brother, ile speake your part, Receiue her, loue, and lodge her in your heart.

Lur.

Nocte die{que}.

Hor.

What shall I doe then?

Du.

Iustice shall merce thee, and by our commaund We banish thee the Court, though not our Land, Your course is vertuous, let your honour growe Till age hath cloath'd you in a robe of snow. Lastly, thy merrit is not triuiall, That turnd to mirth a Sceane so tragicall.

Epilogue.

Who would haue thought, such strange euents should fall Into a course so smooth and comicall? Who would haue thought such treachery could rest, In such a smoothe and vertuous seeming brest? Who would haue thought a bud of this yong growth, Should out of present wit ore-reach vs both? And to conclude, who would haue thought the eare Of your milde patience would so gently beare With these our weake deserts? which if they please you ought Tis lesse then we desire, more then we thought.

FINIS.