The cunning lovers a comedy : as it was acted with great applause, by their Majesties servants at the private house in Drury Lane / vvritten by Alexander Brome ...

ACT V. SCENE I. (Book 5)

A Table with a Booke and Papers set out.

Enter Montecelso and Clonne.

Clo.

YOu see I have purchas'd you a Lodging at the house of mine own flesh and bloud, otherwise call'd my Father; now sir, if you do not shew your selfe a Master of your Art, or your Crafts-Master, you shall but disgrace your selfe, and call the reputation of my Fathers house in question.

Mon.

Tush, feare not me, what cannot I performe, A maske of naked wenches I could bring To dance strange Antiques here, and none but we To be spectatours.

Clo.

Oh brave man, when shall we see this sport?

Mon.

Dost thou love sweet meats? I have chang'd e're now, Against a Christning day, a showre of haile To perfect Comfets that have serv'd a feast, And I can do't againe, but tush 'tis nothing.

Clo.

Oh sweet man, here's one that by his Art is able to undo all the Comfet-makers in Christendome,

Mon.

What meat dost thou love best?

Clo.

I love many meates well, and indeed scarce any comes

amiss, if it be come in his right likeness, when I have a stomack I can eate Capon and Rabit, but above all meats, not to dissem∣ble, I love a good peece of roasted beefe.

Mon.

Ile tell thee what once I did in Germany. There was a hill lay just against the Sun, I by my art chang'd it to perfect beefe▪ Which the violent heat of the Sun roasted as Perfectly as any sea coale fire, and still as it Was enough the Country people came with their Sharpe knives and cut it off in slices.

Clo.

Oh that my journey had laine over that hill.

Mon.

Now sir a brooke ran by of cleare water, And that I turn'd to perfect vinegar For sauce to that rost-beefe, and the small sand Was chang'd to perfect pepper; now sir, it Was but bringing ••••ead along with them and flicing away A peece of the hill, and sitting downe by the Rivers side, And there was as good rost beefe, vinegar, and pepper As any man in Mantua could desire to eate.

Clo.

This cunning man hath a trade would set any mans teeth a wat'ring that hath but a stomack—

Enter Prospero.

But soft, here come strangers.

Pro.

If the wise man be as cunning as rumour reports him, Ile know what shall betide me in my love-affaires; This, I this, by my directions should be the house.

Mon.

My Cosin the Prince, excellent, Ile put him Into a pittifull perplexity e're we part.

Pro.

Now will I try whether this fellow have any cunning or no, thou learned man of Mantua heaven save thee.

Mon.

Thou worthy Gentleman of Verona, I thanke thee, Nay, I have given 't you, pick out the meaning of that.

Pro.

He knows me to be of Verona.

Mon.

I, and an enemy to the Duke of Mantua,

Pro.

You wrong me sir, I love the Duke.

Mon.

I, and his Daughter too, pray do you no••?

Pro.

A rare admirable fellow, he knows all, I must collogue with him, or hee'l reveale all my secrets to the Duke.

Clo.

Nay, herein, most learned, I must needs say you erre;

and though I will not say your devill is a Lyer, because I am alto∣gether unacquainted with him, yet in this I must needs tell you he is in the wrong, for this Gentleman is a true Trojan, a Knight Errant, and one that hath fought at the Tombe of adventures.

Pro.

Indeed I am a Stranger.

Mon.

Indeed you are a dissembler.

Pro.

My name's Antonio.

Mon.

Otherwise call'd Prince Prospero.

Pro.

The rarest fellow in Christendome; upon my life he knows my very thoughts, my meditations.

Mon.

Come hither you, you that can gull the Duke, Make private doores into his Daughters Tower▪ And whil'st your Noble Father, good old man, Thinkes you abroad in travell to see fashions, You loyter here about a Ladies love.

Pro.

Oh wonderfull, I never heard the like▪

Mon.

Now wheres the Ring the Duke spi'd on your finger? When was the merry meeting with your friend And the two Ladies when they talk'd asleep, And by that sudden shift deceiv'd the Duke? Where's the strange Spanish Lady? where's the banquet To which you did invite him?

Pro.

He knows all, all by this light, There's nothing left unknown.

Clo.

Here's no roguery, here's no knavery, here's no villany, and all confest too, Ile even, like a good Subject, make all this acquainted to the Duke.

Pro.

Sweet Conjurer, good Mephast ophilus, Ile give thee here a hundred Duckets straight But keep my counsell.

Clo.

But if the wise-man will, the foole will not; nay, and there be such knaveries in hand, you had better never have let them come to my eare, the Duke shall know all, all by this hand, nay, that's most certaine—trust to it.

Mon.

Stay sirrah, or Ile bring you back with a whirlewind.

Clo.

Not I most learned, you shall pardon me, Ile be no Traytour for no mans pleasure.

Mon.

Prethee come back.

Clo.

No such matter, have you such fagaries, Ile tell the Duke.

Mon.

You doore-maker.

Clo.

How most wise?

Mon.

The Duke shall know of making of that doore By which the Prince had free way to the Lady, You were his Overseer.

Clo.

No more, sweet Doctor Faustus, no more.

Mon.

Sirrah, you had better been a doore keeper than a doore-maker.

Clo.

Then I had better be a theefe than a knave, silence noble Scholler, and I am at thy service.

Mon.

Well sirrah, keep his Counsell and Ile keep yours, and whilest I speak a few words with this stranger, do thou watch there, and looke stedfastly at the kitchin window, for about din∣ner time there will flye in Capons, Pigeons, Pigs, Geese, Larks, Chickens all ready roasted, with every one a knife at his girdle to cut himselfe up, do but thou watch and bring me word when they come flying in and call me; wee'l to dinner.

Clo.

Oh rare, ready roasted! I would I were a wise man too, as I shall never bee whilest I live; it is nothing but spreading a cloath, laying trenchers, setting a salt, providing of bread, and making platters and sauce ready, and your roast-meat will come as duly every one flying to his own dish and sauce as Crows in the evening fly to their own nests; Ile get him to tile our house with Biskets, to pave the Kitchin with Custards, to make our Lo•…•…e-walls of Ginger-bread, and turne our Cheese-trenchers into Wafer-cakes; Ile watch, but if I bring him word till I have fill'd my belly, may my girdle break.

Pro.

Montecelso turn'd a wise man!

Mon.

I know that's more than ever thou didst looke for at my hands.

Pro.

Beshrew thee Coz, thou hast put me into two pittifull plunges, first thy death, next for this needlesse feare.

Clo.

Not yet!

Pro.

I thought as surely thou hadst been in heaven As I know this is earth: introth mad Coz, And hast thou gone beyond me?

Clo.

Now I hope: no, that was a Crow that flew over our house.

Mon.

Be confident for I have cast a plot. How thou shalt steale away thy Love to Church, And make her Father with his own free hand Give her to thee in marriage; more than this, Put strange disgraces on thy opposites And such as are thy rivals; wouldst thou thinke Me a perfect wise man to contrive this well?

Pro.

More wise than I first knew thee.

Mon.

For this time part, earely to morrow morning Convey Valentia through the private doore Suted as at the Banquet; next invite The Mantuan Duke to grace your Nuptials In Saint Lauretta's Chappell; what remaines Shall all be mine.

Pro.

My dearest friend adieu, No cunning head had e're a heart so true.

Exit.—Knock.

Mon.

Harke, some one knocks.

Clo.

Most prudent.

Mon.

Leave staring to the kitch. till anon, And let me in these Gallants.

Clo.

Beshrew their hearts for me, belike they heard what good cheere was flying towards our house, and now like bold guests they are come to bid themselves to dinner; I will let them in, though I could wish them choak'd for their paines—

Enter Verona, Florence, Iulio, Ferrara.

Ver.

Who takes his turne first?

Flo.

That will I so please you.

Mon.

I know them all, their businesse, their affaires, And I shall fit them finely; grave old man, My choicest welcome I bestow on you, And welcome Lords to all, but first you: I know my Lord of Florence you affect The amorous Lady faire Valentia.

Flo.

Oh marvelous!

Mon.

But you the frantique Dutchess.

Fer.

Possible.

Mon.

Come, come, I know the inmost of your thoughts, Then to be briefe and cut off circumstance,

Harke you my Lord of Florence, do but this, And Ile assure you faire Valentia's love, Tomorrow morning must the stranger Knight In Saint Lauretta's Chappell wed his Love, The Spanish Lady, given him by the Duke, Whil'st they are busied watch the new-built Tower, In which by Art I will contrive a doore, Which you shall find wide open.

Flo.

Oh rare man!

Man.

Through which passe freely; now to blind suspicion, Because you may not be descried or known, Weare some disguise, this paper shall direct you.

Flo.

Thou most ingenious Artist, take this Gold, The happy earnest of my future love.

Exit.

Mon.

Enough my Lord, now waite upon my skill; And now to you, I know you love the Dutchess, But she is chang'd by sicknesse; yet my Lord If you will marry faire Valentia, Who for your love disdaines the Florentine, Ile set you down a course to compasse it.

Fer.

Either will serve my turne, I'm not so curious To thy my fancy to one womans face.

Mon.

Know, through my spirits help, I have digg'd a doore Quite through the Turrets doore, which wall leads streight Unto the Ladies Chamber, take this note, This Paper shall direct you.

Fer.

There's Gold for Paper.

Mon.

Adieu.

Iul.

My turne is next; I am a stranger to thee, learned Friend, Nor dost thou know my business.

Mon.

No Lord Julio.

Iul.

Iulio I'm call'd indeed.

Mon.

And love that Lady Whom these two Princes tenderly affect.

Iul.

Th'art something neare me.

Mon.

Ile come nearer yet, To the two strangers I could tell your hate,

Th'one drown'd, t'other Guardian of the Tower, But my Art's no accuser.

Iul.

Noble Schollar, Let this Gold bribe thy art to secresie, And teach me how I may prevent their plots, Gaine the Dukes Grace, and faire Valentia's love.

Mon.

This Paper shall do all, peruse it then, And let it be your Tutor, so now leave me.

Iul.

with all my art Ile prove thy magick skill, And to the utmost what thou plot'st fulfill,

Exit.

Mon.

Adieu; you sirrah.

Clo.

Most judicious.

Mon.

Follow them with speed, Watch them, and when thou seest them neare the Tower, Run to the Duke and call his armed Guard To apprehend these Miners that have digg'd Unlawfull passage through his high-built Tower, See them well beaten, and after come to me, And I will teach thee this rare Negromancy.

Clo.

Feare not, Master Doctor, first Ile play my part, And after come to you to learne your Art.

Exit.

Mon.

Now sir to you.

Ver.

And what to me sir? thinke not with your tricks To draw me in opinion you are wise.

Mon.

Were not your Grace a man I reverence.

Ver.

My Grace, what Grace? you'd gull me would you not?

Mon.

Nor can you gull me most excellent Lord, You are Verona's Duke; nay, never start, For to your care my tongue's close as your heart; I know that Mantua loves you not, yet know Your Son serves Mantua as a friendly Foe.

Ver.

Pardon me sir, I now approve your cunning, Conceale my being, and expect reward— But see the Duke.

Enter Mantua, Dutchesse and Servant.

Man.

What liberall reprover, I perceive You find some matter in this man of note.

Ver.

Matter indeed my Lord, this is a man

Exceeding many other private men, That are indeed but shaddows, counterfeits, This man hath naturall gifts joyn'd with his Art.

Man.

We like your praise, and will our selfe applaud His excellence, if by his grounded skill He can give case to this faire Dutchess griefe.

Mon.

What Mortalls can attempt Ile undertake; This is the Lady, and I know her griefe Arises from a sullen melancholly; She has lost some friend, the sorrow of whose death Hath turn'd her sanguine streames of bloud to black.

Dutch.

Black, lost, gone, sunke, fled, adieu, farewell, The waves have quite undone poore Lucibell.

Mon.

Tush, I can cure this madnesse presently.

Man

How learned Friend? restore her to her senses, And the next thing that thou demand'st is thine.

Mon.

I know the perfect temper of her griefe, Which that you may perceive Ile cure with Art; I will raise up the Ghost of him she lov'd, So like in all things you your selves shall sweare It is the man.

Man.

Shall he appeare to us?

Mon.

Here to you all, but stir not, move no foot, Take heed you do not question him too far, But only heare and see, and stand aloofe.

Man.

But will he not afright us?

Mon.

Not a jot; Looke to the Lady, Ile about my Art, And send the Architector presently,

Exit.

Dutch.

Well, if I see him I will chide him so, That he shall never drowne himselfe againe.

Man.

Is't possible this can be done by Art? Or meanes he to delude us?

Dutch.

So it seemes, for I shall ne'r more see my Love again.

Man.

Sweet Lady be content.

Dutch.

You see I am. The sound may give whole counsel to the sick, Away, your counsell does encrease my paine,

And I shall ne'r more see my Love againe—

Enter Montecelso as a Ghost.

Ver.

He's come already.

Man.

Lord how like he is! Would you not sweare it were the very man; An admirable Artist I see he wafts the Lady.

Dutch.

Oh thou deare soule of my sweet Love deceas'd, Ile follow thee.

Man.

Stir not, it is the Devill.

Dutch.

Spirit or fiend, his amorous shape so charmes, Did he graspe hell I'd flie into his armes.

Exeunt.

Man.

The Devill hath born her hence, follow and rescue her.

Ver.

Not I my Lord, your Grace shall pardon me.

Man.

Oh what black trespasse hath she done 'gainst heaven That she should thus be hurried quick to hell; Now is she hopelesse, past recovery; Ile hang that Conjurer.

Ver.

Condemn him not before you see the event.

Man.

What can the event be but her utter losse? Oh my faire Dutchess, if thou perish thus, Ile make that base Inchanter curse this day, For thy lost bloud his traitcrous head shall pay—

Enter Montecelso.

Mon.

How cheeres my Lord, did you behold the Ghost?

Man.

We saw the Devill, but speake, where's the Dutchess?

Mon.

Safe in my Chamber, where before to morrow, Your Grace shall see her perfectly recover'd, Doubt not my Art; but there remaines, my Lord, For you a further business, the strange Knight Expects the Spanish Lady from your hand In Saint Lauretta's Chappell, whither I promise To bring your Lady perfectly recover'd.

Man.

See this done, And the next thing that thou demand'st is thine.

Mon.

I shall make bold, my Lord, to claime your promise.

Man.

Claime it and take it.

Mon.

You'l trust her in my Chamber for this night, For I must physick her.

Man.

Do what thou pleasest, it highly shall content me; Come, let's returne to Court, and there attend Of our precedent feares a fortunate end.

Exeunt.

Mon.

Thou hast no part in that faire fortunate end, It 'longs to me, and to my noble friend: Madam—

Enter Dutchesse.

Dutch.

Oh my deare Love how could you so delude A Lady that with such intire affection And zealous love admir'd and honour'd you!

Mon.

Of that no more; the Duke for this great cure Hath promis'd me what I shall next demand, I have a boone to aske, I have set on foot Many strange plots which must their full effect Receive this night, the Prince is to espouse The faire Valentia by the Dukes free gift, Florence, Ferrara, and Lord Iulio, His Rivals, are about their severall tasks; Something there remaines for me, amongst the rest, And you to act out of these confusions, We must devise our fortunes to secure, And save that love that is so chaste and pure.

Exeunt. Hoboys.

A dumbe shew.

Enter at one Doore a Bishop, Mantua, and Verona, fetch Profpero and Valentia, Mantua makes some strange pauses, viewing the Lady exactly, at length (recalling his hand once or twice) troath-plights them, and so march over to the Church.

Enter Iulio like a Smith.

Iul.

In this disguise who can know Iulio now. Or guesse the purpose that I have in hand? This Paper tells me I shall find a doore Left open to Valentia's amerous bed: here Ile waite The happy end of my auspicious Fate—

Enter Florence as a Mason.

Flo.

So I am fitted so un willingly That I scarce know my selfe; yet as this Paper Gives me directions may I find the Doore Left open to me, I desire no more—

Enter Ferrara as a Carpenter.

Fer.

A Carpenter I should be, would this Apron And Rule bring me to rule in Mantua By marriage of the faire Valentia, I should applaud my fortunes, and commend The wise mans Art; this can imperious love,

Ent. Clo. and Guard.

Whose power hath oft transhap'd the gods above.

Clo.

You shall be transhap'd Ile warrant you, wee'l teach you to take upon you other mens trades before you be free of their Companies; if your Rule at your back will not rule you, we will; stand close Gentlemen, and though we find them broad awake, let's see if we can take them napping.

Iul.

The doore, according to to the wise-mans words, I find wide open, Ile enter.

Fer.

Why pause I being so neare?

Flo.

Ile enter instantly, but soft, I am prevented.

Iul.

Company, now must I counterfeit to worke.

Fer.

To shun discovery, Ile see how I can play the Carpenter.

Flo.

Now to my Masonry.

Iul.

Would I were ten Leagues off.

Clo.

Upon them Gentlemen, upon them, these be the un∣derminers I told you of, up with your Poleaxes and down with them, see they have broken open a doore already, they shall be arraigned of Burglary.

Iul.

Hold, hold, and heare us.

Clo.

Bumbaste them Gentlemen, currifeige them bravely, heare them after; palt the Mason with stones, hammer the Smith, & over-rule the Carpenter, come, away with em.

Exeunt.

Enter Verona.

Ver.

My Son is married to the Mantuan Princesse, A Lady of that presence and opinion, That it offends me not; but to prevent Any offence that may be done to him, Or injury to me, I have at hand A Royall Army under Cosmos charge, Our trusty and approved Counsellor, To offer War or Peace—the Duke's at hand.

Exit. Florish.

Enter Mantua, Prospero, and Valentia.

Man.

How naked is our Traine, that of our Courtiers, So few attend this high solemnity? Where's Florence? where's Ferrara? where's Lord Iulio? That have not seen us given away this Daughter I feare, for so my eye perswades; Had I not in these keyes such confidence, And in the strength of my large edifice, I should not doubt to sweare, but these Ile trust, When servants faile, keyes and stone-walls prove just.

Pro.

Thrice worthy sir, you have given me such a gift, Should you impart you Dukedomes large revenew It could not equal't; now your hand is past, Which both your word and Church-rights have made fast.

Man.

'Twere best that I returne to see all safe▪ And next enquire how my faire Dutchesse fares.

Pro.

Feare not my Lord, you have committed her To his protection that undoubtedly Will see to her recovery.

Man.

So we hope.

Pro.

Restore her to her senses and true feeling.

Man.

We doubt it not.

Pro.

And apt her thoughts for love.

Man.

That's all we covet.

Pro.

I have understood By those that know him, so much hee'l make good.

Man.

Then are we truly happy—

Enter Clowne, Iulia, Florence, Ferrara.

Clo.

Roome for one good Subject that brings three bad Sub∣jects to answer Burglary before your Grace: see here my Lord, here are three fellows that have good faces and are asham'd to shew 'em, they seeme to be sound men, yet see if they do not strive to looke scurvily?

Man.

What men are these? or how have they offended? Why do they turne their heads thus and looke downwards?

Clo.

As if they had stolne a pudding.

Pro.

These faces I should know, my Lord of Florence, Ferrara's Marquesse, and Lord Iulio;

Is this the cost you have so liberally Bestow'd to grace our feast? my Bride and I Are much bound to you

Man.

These the men, perhaps they have some maske, If so, let's see't.

Flo.

Compell me not to answer.

Fer.

Give me leave To blush and be asham'd.

Iul.

Hell take the Conjurer.

Man.

My Lords, what meanes this antique▪ if you have Some sport to shew us▪ pray my Lords let's have't.

Iul.

So, so.

Pro.

How well this sute becomes you! troth my Lord, Might I advise you, I would still go thus; Acquaint me with your Taylor.

Man.

Is this the newest fashion?

Iul.

Would I were in the Indies Rather than here.

Man.

But tell me sirrah, what meanes this shew?

Clo.

Call you these Lords! no, they are Loones, they looke more like Prentices than Princes; these are they that have be∣leaguered your new Tower, and digg'd a hole through the wall, that an Oxe or an Asse, 'blesse us, as big as your selfe may creepe through; there's a doore made into your Daughters Tower where she was kept, and the doore being left open she is flowne away: Valantia is gone, she is gone, and these are they that had their hands in the businesse.

Man.

Valentia gone, and by their practice lost!

Clo.

By theirs; when they were boring at the hole we took them at it with their tooles out, we tooke them in the manner before they could put up, and here we have brought them to answer before your Grace, that you may freely punish their weaknesse that would offer to go to your walls.

Man.

These injuries severely wee'l revenge, But most on thee false Iulio, for her losse Thy head shall pay.

Iul.

Pox of the Conjurer I say still.

Man.

Speake, where's Valentia, can you tell me?

All.

No.

Man.

Then for her losse your forfeit lives shall go; Who can advise me best where I may find Her I most lov'd, and hath prov'd most unkind.

Clo.

Might I advise your Grace, I would have you should do as Archers do, that when they have lost an Arrow, shoot ano∣ther after it; so, my Lord, if you have ever another Lady or Mi∣stris about the Court, shoot her after your Daughter, that you may either find one, or lose both.

Pro.

Good Counsell.

Man.

To him that can reduce her to her Tower, Or put me in possession of her hand, What grace our Power or Dukedome can command Shall all be his.

Pro.

I take you at your word, see here my Lord.

Man.

This, this is the Spanish Lady.

Val.

She that spoke In Spanish once is forc'd to change her tongue, Pardon deare Father.

Man.

Ha! am I then o're-reach'd? is't possible For all my Cost, Charge, Care, and diligence A Wenches wit out-go me? could her subtiltie Make way through that which not an Army could? What should I say?

Clo.

Those Creatures that weare smocks Will where they love pierce stone-wals, creep through locks; Why thus you see, as well as we, a great man may be gull'd, Woodcocks are meat, but not to eat untill that they be pull'd.

Ex.

Iul.

That private doore, my Lord, I now perceive Was made by him.

Flo.

My Lord, remember you The Ring you spied upon his finger once, Then thinke upon the doore.

Fer.

You made us tosse the rushes And seeke the Jewell, did you? Speake, what art thou That thus hast gull'd the Duke?

Pro.

I am a Prince, And every way thy equall.

Man.

I would to heaven it were no worse.

Val.

He is no lesse my Lord, receive him then to grace.

Man.

Of Whence?

Pro.

Verona.

Man.

Mine enemy.

Pro.

Was't not a friendly part To lodge your only child so neare my heart?

Val.

My Lord, remember he once sav'd your life, And even for that deserves me for his wife.

Pro.

Now as a friend a friendly League I crave, Take not away what you so freely gave.

Man.

I will pause upon't, although it be past help, And see what we may punish, what forgive; But now my only comfort is stor'd up In the faire Dutchesse, if she gaine her health—

Ent. Dutch. and Mont.

And here she comes, I cannot choose but feare So long as I behold you Ghost so neare.

Fer.

That Conjurer Is a rare Artist that can raise a shadow So like unto the Substance.

Man.

Faire Dutchesse, art thou recover'd, speake?

Dutch.

Thanke heaven I am.

Man.

'Tis well done to have heaven still in thy thoughts Being so neare a feind, come from that Devill.

Dutch.

Feare not my Lord, I am so arm'd with faith, And love withall, he hath no power to hurt me.

Man.

Art thou well?

Dutch.

Yes my Lord, I am well.

Man.

Come from him, but art thou very well?

Dutch.

Very well my Lord I thanke you.

Man.

Perfectly well?

Dutch.

So well you cannot wish me better.

Man.

Come hither then.

Dutch.

I was of late but ill, Then give me leave, my Lord, to keep my selfe Well while I am well.

Mon.

That's with me my Lord.

Man.

Can the Ghost speake too.

Man.

Speake, and talke, and walke, Embrace and kisle.

Man.

I love no kissing Ghosts.

Flo.

Beleeve me, that Magician was a man Of rare experience, and deserves great praise.

Fer.

Did he not say before what he should do, That Ghost doth act his part exceedingly.

Man.

I say come from him, he's a spirit.

Dutch.

I do not love to do any thing but with a spirit.

Man.

He came out of hot hell.

Dutch.

Hee'l make the warmer bedfellow.

Mon.

Further than you have been, be not deceiv'd my Lord.

Man.

That's far enough already.

Mon.

I am the man I seem, no Architector, But Cosin to that noble Gentleman Prince Prospero, of the Duke Verona's Court, That for this Dutchesse love have thrust my selfe Into this imminent danger, as the Prince Hath done the like for his Valentia; You promis'd me if I could cure this Lady, The next thing I demanded, her I crave, Whom if I truly merit let me have.

Man.

I have been gull'd on all sides, nor will I Put up these injurious wrongs, you both shall dye—

Ent. Iul.

Iul.

To arms, to arms my Lord, for I descry A potent Army marching before our walls, And by their Colours flying they should be of Verona.

Man.

Be they from whence they will wee'l parley them; Admit their Generall to an interview

Florish.

To know their cause of Arms—

Enter Verona.

Our Clinick turn'd a Souldier I

Pro.

Noble Father I crave your pardon.

Mon.

I the like my Lord.

Ver.

Stand on our party then whil'st I debate Our purpose with this Duke; these Armes we levied With no intent of wrong to Mantua, But to secure our Son, and this his friend, VVe do protest it is no worke of ours

That he is married, neither did we wish't▪ But since by heaven and fate they are united, We rather wish they may their Loves enjoy, Than what heaven seems to applaud we should destroy.

Man.

To plead in Armes 〈◊〉〈◊〉 best way to prevaile, VVhere still the weak'st must yield; since our own blond Hath had an equall share in this our wrong, Why should we envy strangers, we will strive From the worlds eye to hide this ominous scarre; Heaven offers peace, why should we threaten war? Each where they love joyne hands.

Pro.

Our hearts.

Val.

A sweet Conclusion.

Mon.

And now Madam Ile make you amends for mocking you.

Dutch.

Great men are sometimes gull'd, but that's not common, You have done more, for you have gull'd a woman.

Man.

Your Son, Verona, and his friend hath much Outstrip'd us by their wit, but the best is We are not gull'd alone, You see your greatnesse is no priviledge From those that have quick braines, but now all friends; Verona we embrace, and thus attone All our difsentions; Marriage shall conclude What Armes hath menac'd; our united Dukedomes Since by this happy fate they are agreed, Wee'l strive which most in bounty shall exceed.

FINIS.