Fathers own son a comedy formerly acted at the private house in Black Fryers, and now at the Theatre in Vere-Street by His Majesties servants / the author John Fletcher, Gent.

Actus Quintus, (Book 5)

Scena Quarta.

Enter Hylas.

Hyl.

I Have dog'd his sister, sure 'twas she, And I hope she will come back again this night too:

Sam

I have lost of purpose: now if I can With all the art I have, as she comes backe, But win a parley for my broken pate, Off goes her maiden-head, and there's vindict••. They stir about the house, I'le stand at distance.

Exit.

Enter Mary and Dorothy, and then Thomas & Maid.

Doll.

Is he come in?

Mar.

Speake softly, He is, and there he goes.

Tho.

Good night, good night wench.

a bed discovered with a black More in it.

Maid

As softly as you can.

Exit••

Tho.

I'le play the Mouse Nan, How close the lit••le thiefe lyes.

Mar.

How he itches?

Doll.

What would you give now to be there, and I At home Mall?

Ma.

Peace for shame.

Tom.

In what a figure The little foole has pull'd it selfe together: Anone you will lye streighter: Ha, ther's rare circumstance Belongs to such a treatise: doe ye tumble, I'le tumble with ye straight wench: she sleeps soundly, Full little thinkst thou of thy joy that'•• comming, The sweet, sweet joy, full little of the kis••es, But those unthought of things com•• ever happiest. How soft the rogue feeles? Oye little villaine, Ye delicate coy thiefe, how I shall thrum ye?

Your fy away, good servant, as ye are a gentleman••

Ma.

Prethee leave laughing. Out upon ye Thomas What do ye meane to do? ile call the house up, O god•• I am sure ye will not, shall not serve ye, For up ye goe now, and ye were my Father.

Ma.

Your courage wilbe cold anon.

Tho••

If it do hang for' Yet ile be quarterd here first.

Dor.

O feirce villaine.

Ma.

What would he do indeed Doll?

Dor.

You had best try him.

Tho.

Ile kisse thee ere I come to bed: sweet Mary.

Ma.

Prethee leave laughing.

Dor.

O, for gentle Nicholas.

Tho.

And view that stormy face, that has so thundered me, A coldne's crept over't now; by your leave, candle, And next doore by yours too, so, a pretty, pretty Shall I now looke upon ye: by this light it moves me.

Ma.

Much good may it do you sir.

Tho.

Holy saint••, defend me. The devill, devill, devill, devill, O the devill.

Ma.

Dor. Ha, ha, ha, ha, the devill O the devill.

Tho.

I am abus'd most damnedly: most beastly, Yet if it be a she devill: But the house is up, And here's no staying longer in this Cassock, Woman, I here disclaime thee; and in vengeance Ile marry with that devill, but ile vex thee.

Ma.

Byr' Lady, but you shall not sir, ile watch ye.

Tho.

Plague O your spanish leather hide; ile waken ye: Devill, good night: good night good devill.

Moore.

Oh.

Tho.

Rore againe, devill, rore againe.

Ex. Tho.

Moore.

O, O, sir.

Ma.

Open the doores before him: let him vanish. Now, let him come againe, ile use him kinder How now Wench.

Moore.

Pray lye here your self, nex•• Mistris

And entertaine your sweet heart.

Ma.

What said he to thee.

Moore.

I had a soft bed: and I slept out all, But his kind farewell: ye may bake me now For O my conscience, he has made m•• venison.

Ma.

Alas poore Kat••; ile give thee a new Petticoate,

Dor.

And I a Wastcoate, Wench.

Ma.

Draw in the bed Maides, And see it made againe; put fresh sheetes on too, For Doll. and I: come Wench, lets laugh an houre now, To morrow earely, will wee see yong Cellid•• They say she has taken Sanctuary: love, & they Are thicke sowne, but come up so full of thistles.

Dor.

They must needs Mall: for 'tis a pricking age grown Prethee to bed, for I am monstrous sleepy••

Ma.

A match, but art not thou thy brother?

Dor.

Would I were Wench, You should heare further.

Ma.

Come, no more of that Doll.

Exeunt.

Scena quinta.

Enter Hylas, and Thomas.

Hyl.

I Heard the doores clap: now, and't be thy will, wench By th' mas she comes: you a••e surely melt f••ir•• gen∣tlewoman, I take it Mistris Doll, Sebastians daughter.

Tho.

I take right sir: Hylas, are you feretting Ile fit you with a pennyworth presently.

Hyl.

How dare you walk so late so sweet: so weak gu••rd••d?

Tho.

Faith sir, I do no harme, nor none I looke for Yet I am glad, I have met so good a gentleman, Against all chances: for though I never kn••w ye Yet I have heard much good spoke of ye,

Hyl.

Harke ye. What if a man should kisse ye?

Tho,

That's no harme sir,

Pray God he scapes my heard, there lyes the mischiefe.

Hyl.

Her lips are monstrous rugged, but that surely Is but the sharpnesse of the weather: harke ye once more, And in your eare, sweet Mistresse, for ye are so, And ever shall be from this houre: I have vow'd it.

Enter Sebastian and Launcelot.

Seb.

Why that's my daughter, rogue, do'st thou not see her Kissing that fellow there, there in that corner?

Lan.

Kissing?

Seb.

Now, now, now they agree o'th match too.

Tho.

Nay then ye love me not.

Hyl.

By this white hand Doll.

Tom.

I must confesse, I have long desir'd your sight sir.

Lan.

Why ther's the Boots still sir.

Seb.

Hang Boots sir, Why they'l weare breeches too.

Tom.

Dishonest me Not for the world.

Seb.

Why now they kisse againe, there I knew 'twas she, and that her crafty stealing O••t the back way must needs have such a meaning.

Lan.

I am at my small wits end.

Thom.

If ye meane honourably.

Lan.

Did she nev'r beat ye before sir?

Seb.

Why do'st thou follow me? Thou rascall slave hast thou not twice abus'd me? Hast thou not spoil'd the boy? by thine owne covenant, Would'st thou not now be hang'd?

Lan.

I thinke I would sir, But you are so impatient: do's not this shew sir, (I do beseech ye speake, and speake with judgement, And let the case be equally considered) Far braver in your daughter? in a son now 'Tis nothing, of no marke: every man do's it, But, to beget a daughter, a man maiden That reaches at the••e high exploits, is admirable: Nay she goes far beyond him: for when durst he,

But when he was drunke, doe any thing to speake of? This is Sebastian truely.

Seb.

Thou sayest right Lance, And ther's my hand once more.

Tho.

Not without marriage.

Seb.

Didst thou heare that?

Lan.

I thinke she spoke of marriage,

Seb••

And he shall marry her, for it ••eems she likes him, And their first boy shall be my heire.

Lan.

I marry Now ye goe right to worke.

Thom.

Fye, fye sir, Now I have promis'd ye this night to marry, Would ye be so intemperate? are ye a gentleman?

Hyl.

I have no maw to marriage, yet this rascall Tempts me extreamely: will ye marry presently?

Tho.

Get you afore, and stay me at the Chappell, Close by the Nunnery, there you shall finde a night Pri•• Little sir Hugh, and he can say the Matrimony Over without booke, for we must have no company Nor light, for feare my father know, which must not yet•• And then to morrow night.

Hyl.

Nothing to night sweet?

Tho.

No, not a bit, I am sent of businesse About my dowry, sweet, doe not you spoile all now, 'Tis of muh haste. I can scarce stay the marriage, Now if you love me, get you gone.

Hyl.

You'l follow?

Tom.

Within this houre, my sweet chicke.

Hyl.

Kisse.

Tho.

A rope kisse ye, Come, come, I stand o'thorne••••

Hyl.

Me thinkes her mouth still Is monstrous rough, but they have waies to mend it, Farewell.

Tom.

Farewell, I'le fit ye with a wife, sir.

Seb.

Come, follow close, I'le see the end she aymes at,

And if he be a handsome fellow La••••c••lot, Fiat, 'tis done, and all my state is setled.

Exeunt.

Scena Sexta.

Enter Abbesse, C••llide, and N••••s.

Ab.

COme, to your Mattin•• Maids: th••se early houres My gentle daughter, will disturb a while, Your faire eyes, nurterd in ease.

Cel.

No vertuous mother•• Tis for my holy health, to purchase which They shall forget the childe of ease, soft slumbers, O my afflicted heart, how thou art tortur'd, And Love, how like a tyrant, thou raign'st in me, Commanding and forbidding at one instant: Why came I hither that desire to have Onely all liberty, to make me happy? Why didst thou bring that yong man home, O Valentine, That vertuous youth, why didst thou speake his goodnesse In such a phrase, as if all tongues, all praises Were made for him? O fond and ignorant, Why didst thou foster my affection Till it grew up, to know no other father, And then betray it?

Ab.

Can ye sing?

Cel.

Yes, Mother, My sorrowes onely.

Ab.

Be gone, and to the Quire then.

Exeunt.

Musicke singing.

Scena septima.

Enter Michael and Servant, and Francis.

Mich.

HA'st thou inquir'd him out?

Ser.

He's not at home sir, His sister thinks he's gone to th' Nunnery,

Mich.

Most likely: I'le away, an houre hence sirha, Come you alo••g with this yong gentleman, Doe him all service, and faire office.

Ser.

Yes sir.

Exeunt.

Scena Octava.

Enter Hylas and Sam.

Sam.

VVHere hast thou been man?

Hyl.

Is there nev'r a shop open? I'le give thee a paire of gloves Sam.

Sam.

What's the matter?

Hyl.

What do'st thou thinke?

Sam.

Thou art not married?

Hyl.

By th'masse but I am, all to be married, I am i'th order now Sam.

Sam.

To whom prethee? I thought there was some such trick in't, you ••tole from m•• But who, sor heaven sake?

Hyl.

Ev'n the sweetest woman, The rarest woman Samuel, and the lustiest, But wondrous honest, honest as the ice boy, Not a bit before hand, for my life, sirha, And of a lusty kindred.

Sam.

But who Hylas?

Hyl.

The yong gentleman and I are like to be friends a∣gaine,

The fates will have it so.

Sam.

Who, Monsieur Thomas?

Hyl.

All wrongs forgot.

Sam.

O now I smell ye Hylas. Do's he know of it?

Hyl.

No, ther's the tricke I owe hi•• ••Tis done boy, we are fast faith, my youth now Shall know I am aforehand, for his qualities••

Sam.

Is there no tricke in't?

Hyl.

None, but up and ride boy: I have made her no joynture neither, there I have paid him••

Sam.

She's a brave wench.

Hyl.

She shall be, as I'le use her, And if she anger me, all his abuses I'le clap upon her Caslocke.

Sam.

Take heed Hylas••

Hyl.

'Tis past that Sam, come, I must meet her presently, And now shalt ••ee me, a most glo••ious husband.

Exeunt.

Scena Nona.

Enter Dorothy, Mary, Valentine.

Dor.

IN troth sir, you never spoke to me.

Val.

Can ye forget me? Did not you promise all your helpe and cunning In my behalfe, but for one houre to see her, Did you not sweare it? by this hand, no strictnesse Nor rule this house holds, shall by me, be broken.

Dor.

I saw ye not these two dayes.

Val.

Doe not wrong me, I met ye, by my life, just as yon entred This gentle Ladies Lodge last night, thus suited About eleven a clocke.

Dor.

'Tis true I was there, But that I saw or spoke to you.

Mar.

I have found it, Your brothor Thomas, Doll.

Dor.

Pray sir be satisfi'd, And wherein I can doe you good, command me, What a mad foole is this? stay here a while sir, Whilst we walke in, and make your peace.

Exit.

Enter Abbesse.

Val.

I thanke ye.

••••••eake within.

Ab.

Why, what's the matter there among these Maids? Now benedi••ite, have ye got the bre••ze there? Give me my holly sprinckle.

Enter 2 Nun.

1 Nun

O Madam, ther's a strange thing like a gentlewo∣man, Like Mistresse Dorothy, I think the fiend Crept in to th' Nunnery we know not which way, Playes revell rowt among us.

Ab.

Give me my holy water pot.

1 Nun

Here Madam.

Ab.

Spirit of earth or ayre, I do conjure thee, squeake within Of water or of fire.

1 Nun

Harke Madam, ••a••k.

Ab.

Be thou ghost that can••ot rest•• or a shadow of the blest, Be thou black, or white, or green, be thou heard, or to be seen

Enter Thomas and Cellid••.

2 Nun

It comes, it comes.

Cell.

What are ye? speake, speake gently, And next, what would ye with me?

Tom.

Any thing you'l let me.

Cell.

You are no woman certaine.

Tom.

Nor you no Nun, nor shall not be.

Cel.

What make ye here?

Tom.

I am a holy Fryer.

Ab.

Is this the Sipirit?

Tho.

Nothing but spirit Aunt.

Ab.

Now out upon thee.

Tho.

Peace, or I'l•• conjure too Aunt.

Ab.

Why come you thus?

Tho.

That's all one, her's my purpose: Out with this Nun, she is too handsome for ye, I'le tell thee (Aunt) and I speake it with teares to thee, If thou keptst her here, as yet I hope thou art wiser, Mark but the mischiefe followes.

Ab.

She is a Votresse.

Tho.

Let her be what she will, she will undoe thee,

Let her but one houre o••t, as I direct ye, Or have among your N••n•• againe.

Abb.

You have no project But faire and honest?

Tom.

As thine eyes, sweet Abbesse,

Abb.

I will be ruld then.

Tom.

Thus then and perswade her But do not iuggle with me, if ye do Aunt.

Abb.

I must be there my selfe.

Tom.

Away and fit her.

Abb.

Come daughter, you must now be rull'd, or never.

Cell.

I must obey your will.

Abb.

That's my good daughter••

Exeun••.

Scena Decima.

Enter Dorothy, and Mary.

Ma.

VVHat a coyle has this Fellow kept i'th' Nunnery Sure he has run the Abbesse out of her wits.

Do.

Out of the Nunnery I think, for we can neither see her Nor the yong Cellide.

Mar.

Pray heavens he be not teasing.

Dor.

Nay you may thanke your selfe, 'twas your owne structures.

Enter Hylas, and Sam.

Sam.

Why there's the gentlewoman,

Hyl.

Mas tis she indeed How smart the pretty thee••e lookes? 'morrow Mistresse.

Dor.

Good morrow to you sir.

Sam.

How strange she beares it?

Hyl.

Maids must do so, at first.

Dor.

Would ye ought with us, gentlemen?

Hyl.

Yes marry would I A little with your Lad••ship.

Dor.

Your will sir.

Hyl.

Doll, I would have ye presently prepare your selfe And those things you would have with y••u, For my house is ready.

Dor.

How sir?

Hyl.

And this night not to faile, you must come to me, My Friends will all be there too: For Trunks & those things And houshold stuffe, and clothe•• you would have carried To morrow, or the next day, ile take order: On••ly, What money you have, bring away with ye, And Iewels:

Dor.

Iewels sir?

Hyl.

I, for adornement There's a bed up, to play the game in, Dorothy, And now come kisse me heartily.

Dor.

Who are you?

Hyl.

This Lady shalbe welcome too.

Ma.

To what sir?

Hyl.

Your neighbour can resolve ye.

Dor.

The man's foolish Sir, you looke soberly: who is this fellow, And where's hi•• busines••e?

Sam.

By heaven, thou art abu••'d still.

Hyl.

It may be so: Come, ye may speake now boldly There's none but friends, Wench.

D••r.

Came ye out of Bedlam? Alas, tis ill sir, that ye suffer him To walke in th' open ayre thus ••'tw••ll undo•• h••m. A pretty hansome gentleman: great pitty.

Sam.

Let me not live more if thou be'st not cozens,

Hyl.

Are not you my Wife? did not I marry you last night At St•• Michaels Chappell?

Dor.

Did not I say he was mad?

Hyl.

Are not you Mistresse Dorothy, Thomas sister?

Mar.

There he speakes sence, but ile assure ye gentleman, I think no Wife of yours: at what hour•• was it?

Hyl.

••' pretious; you'll make me mad; did not the Priest Sir Hugh that you appointed, about twelve a clocke Tye our hands fast? did not you sweare you lov'd me? Did not I court ye, comming from this gentlewomans?

Ma.

Good sir, goe sleepe: for if I credit have She was in my armes, then, abed.

Sam.

I told ye.

Hyl.

Be not so confident.

Dor.

By th' mas, she must sir•• For ile ••o husband here, before I know him: And so good morrow to ye: Come, let's goe seeke'em.

Sam.

I told ye what ye had done.

Hyl.

Is the devill stirring? Well, goe with me: for now I wilbe married.

Exeunt.

Scena Vndecima.

Enter Michael, Valentine, and Alice.

Mich.

I Hav•• brought him backe againe.

Val.

You have don a friendship Worthy the love you beare me.

Mich.

Would he had so too.

Val.

O he's a worthy yong man.

Mich.

When al's tryde I feare you'l change your faith•• bring in the g••ntleman.

Enter Francis, and servant, and Abbesse, and Cellid••, se••erally.

Val.

My happy Mistresse too: now Fortune helpe me, And all you starres, that governe chast desire•• Shinne faire, and lovely.

Abb.

But one houre, deere Daughter, To heare your Guardian, what he can deliver In Loves defence, and his: and ••hen your pleasure.

Cell.

Though much unwilling, you have made me yeeld, More for his sake I see: how full of sor••ow Sweet catching sorrow, he appeares? O love, That thou but knew'st to h••ale, as well as hurt us.

Mich.

Be ru••d by me: I see her ••ye 〈…〉〈…〉 him: And what ye hea••d, beleeve, for 〈…〉〈…〉 He neither dar'd, no•• must oppo••e my 〈…〉〈…〉; And be you wife, yong L••dy, and beleeve to••. This man you love, Sir?

Val.

As I love my soule, Sir.

Mich.

This man you put into a free poss••ssion Of what his wants could aske: or your selfe render?

Val.

And shall do still.

Mich.

Nothing was bard his libertie•• But this faire Maide; that friendship first was broken, And you, and she abus••d; next, (to my sorrow So faire a forme should hide so darke intention••,) He hath himselfe confes'd (my purpose being Only to stop his Iourney, by that pollicy Of laying fellony to his charge, to fright the Saylors) Divers abuses, done, thefts often practis'd, Moneys, and Iewels too, and those no ••rifles.

Cell.

O where have I bestrew'd my ••aith: in neither•• Let's in for ever now, there is vertue.

Mich.

Nay do not wonder at it, he shall say it. Are ye not guiltie thus?

Fra.

Yes: O my Fortune.

Mich.

To give a proofe I speake not enviou••ly Looke here: do you know these Iewel••.

Cell.

In, good Mother.

Enter Thomas, Dorothy, and Mary: then Sebasti∣an and Lau••celot.

Val.

These Iewels; I have knowne.

Dor.

You have made brave sport.

Tho.

Ile make more, if I live Wench Nay doe not looke on me: I care not for ye.

Lan.

Do you see now plaine? that's Mistris Dorothy, And that's his Mistris.

Seb.

Peace, let my joy worke easely Ha, boy: art there my boy: mine owne boy, Tom. boy, Home Lance, and strike a fresh peece, of wine, the townes ours,

Val.

Sure, I have knowne these Iewels.

Alice

They are they, certaine.

Val.

Good heaven, that they were.

Alice.

Ile pawne my life on't And this is he; Come hither Mistris Dorothy, And Mistris Mary: who do's that face looke like: And view my brother well?

Dor.

In truth like him.

Ma.

Vpon my troth exceeding like,

Mich.

Beshrew me, But much: and maine resemblance, both of face And li••eaments of body: now heaven grant it.

Alice

My brother'•• full of passion, I'le speake to him.

Now, as you are a gentleman, resolve me, Where did you get these jewels?

Fra.

Now I'le tell ye, Because blinde fortune yet may make me happy, Of whom I had 'em, I have never heard yet, But from my infancy, upon this arme I ever wore 'em.

Alice

'Tis Francisco brother, By heaven I ty'd 'em on: a little more sir, A little, little more, what parents have ye?

Fra.

None That I know yet: the more my stubborne fortune, But as I heard a Merchant say that bred me, Who, to my more affliction, di'de a poore man, When I reach'd eighteen yeers.

Alice

What said that Merchant?

Fra.

He said, an infant, in the Ge••oway Galleyes, But from what place he never could direct me. I was taken in a sea fight, and from a Marriner, Out of his manly pitty he redeem'd me. He told me of a Nurse that waited on me, But she, poore soule, he said was killed. A letter too, I had enclos'd within me, To one Castructio a Venetian Merchant, To bring me up: the man, when yeers allow'd me, And want of friends compell'd, I sought, but found him Long dead before, and all my hope•• gone with him. The wars was my retreat then, and my travell In which I found this gentlemans free bounty, For which, heaven recompenc'd him: now ye have all.

Val.

And all the worldl•• bli••••e that heaven can send me, And all my prayers and thanks.

Alice

Down o' your knees, sir, For now you have fonnd a father, and that father Tha•• ••ill not venture ye againe in Gallyes.

Mich.

'Tis true, beleeve her sir, and we all joy with ye.

Val.

My best friend still: my deerest: now heaven blesse thee And make me worthy of this benefit.

Now my best Mistresse.

Cel.

Now sir, I come to ye.

Ab.

No, no, let's in wench.

Cel.

Not for the world, now, Mother, And thus sir, all my service I pay to you, And all my love to him.

Val.

And may it prosper, Take her Francis••o: now no more yong Callidon, And love her deerely, for thy father do's so.

Fra.

May all hate seek me else, and thus I seale it.

Val.

Nothing but mirth now, friends.

Enter Hylas and Sam.

Hyl.

Nay, I will finde him.

Sam.

What doe all these here?

Tho.

You are a trusty husband, And a hot lover too.

Hyl.

Nay then, good morrow, Now I perceive the knavery.

Sam.

I still told ye.

Tho.

Stay, or I'le make ye stay: come hither sister,

Val.

Why how now Mistresse Thomas?

Tho.

Peace a little, Thou would'st faine have a wife?

Hyl.

Not I, by no meanes.

Tho.

Thou shalt have a wife, & a fruitfu••l wife, for I finde That I shall never be able to bring thee children.

Hylas, known son agen.

Seb.

A notable brave boy.

Hyl.

I am very well sir.

Tho.

Thou shalt be better Hylas, thou hast 7 hundred pound a yeer, And thou shalt make her 3 hundred joynture.

Hyl.

No.

Tho.

Thou shalt boy, and shalt bestow Two hundred pound in clothes, looke on her, A delicate lusty wench, she has fifteen hundred, And feasible: strike hands, or I'le strike first.

Dor.

You'l let me like?

Mar.

He's a good handsome fellow,

Play not the foole.

Tho.

Strike, brother, Hylas quickly.

Hyl.

If you can love me well.

Dor.

If you can please me.

Tho.

Try that out soon, I say, my brother Hylas.

Sam.

Take her, and use her well, she's a brave gentle wo∣man.

Hyl.

You must allow me another Mistresse.

Dor.

Then you must allow me another servant.

Hyl.

Well, let's together then, a lusty kindred.

Seb.

I'le give thee five hundred pound more for that word.

Ma.

Now sir, for you & I to make the feast full.

Tho.

No, not a bit, you are a vertuous Lady, And love to live in contemplation.

Ma.

Come foole, I am friends now.

Tho.

The foole shall not ride ye, There lye my woman, now my man againe, And now for travell on••e more.

Seb.

I'le bar that first.

Ma.

And I next.

Tho.

Hold your selfe contented: for I say I will travell, And so long I will travell, till I finde a father That I never knew, and a wife that I never look'd for, And a state without expectation, So rest you merry gentlemen.

Ma.

You shall not Vpon my faith, I love you now extremely, And now I'le kisse ye.

Tho.

This will not doe it, Mistres••e,

Ma.

Why when we are married, we'l doe more,

Seb.

Ther's all boy, The keyes of all I have, come, let's be merry, For now I see thou art right.

Tho.

Shall we to Church straight?

Val.

Now presently, and there with nuptiall. The holy Priest shall make ye happy all.

Tho.

Away then, faire afore.

Exeunt.

FINIS.