Three new playes; viz. The [brace] bashful lover, Guardian, Very woman. As they have been often acted at the private-house in Black-Friers, by His late Majesties Servants, with great applause. / Written by Philip Massenger, Gent. Never printed before.

Act. I. Scaen. I.

Enter Gateazzo and Julio.

Jul.

I Dare not cross you sir, but I would gladly (Provided you allow it) render you My personal attendance.

Gal.

You shall better Discharge the duty of an honest servant, In following my instructions which you have Receiv'd already, then in questioning What my intents are, or upon what motives My stay's resolv'd in Mantua: Believe me,

That servant overdoes, that's too officious; And in presuming to direct your master, You argue him of weakness, and your self Of arrogance and impertinence.

Jul.

I have done sir; but what my ends are

Gal.

Honest ones, I know it: I have my bills of exchange, and all provisions Entrusted to you; you have shewn your self Just and discreet, what would you more? and yet To satisfie in some part your curious care, Hear this, and leave me: I desire to be Obscur'd; and as I have demean'd my self These six moneths past in Mantua, I'll continue Unnoted and unknown, and at the best Appear no more then a Gentleman, and a stranger, That travails for his pleasure:

Jul.

With your pardon, This hardly will hold weight, though I should swear it, With your noble friends and brother.

Gal.

You may tell'em, Since you will be my Tutor, there's a rumor (Almost cry'd up into a certainty) Of wars with Florence, and that I am determin'd To see the service: Whatere I went forth, (Heaven prospering my intents) I would come home A Soldier, and a good one.

Jul.

Should you get A Captains place, nay Colonels, 'twould add little To what you are; few of your rank will follow That dangerous profession

Gal.

'Tis the noblest, and Monarchs honor'd in it: But no more on my displeasure.

Jul.

Saints and Angels guard you.

Exit.

Gal.

A war indeed is threatned, nay expected From Florence; but it is 'gainst me already Proclaim'd in Mantua: I find it here,

No forein, but intestine war: I have Defied my self, in giving up my reason A slave to passion, and am led captive Before the battel's fought; I fainted when I only saw mine enemy, and yielded Before that I was charg'd: And though defeated, I dare not sue for mercy; like Ixion I look on Juno, feel my heart turn cinders With an invisible fire: And yet should she Daign to appear cloth'd in a various cloud, The majesty of the substance is so facred, I durst not clasp the shadow: I behold her With adoration, feast my eye, while all My other senses starve; and oft frequenting The place which she makes happy with her presence, I never yet had power with tongue or pen To move her to compassion, or make known What 'tis I languish for; yet I must gaze still, Though it increase my flame: however I Much more then fear I am observ'd and censur'd For bold intrusion.

Walks sadly

Enter Beatrix and Ascanio.

Bea.

Know you, boy, that Gentleman?

Asc.

Who, Monsieur Melancholy? hath not your Honor Marked him before?

Bea.

I have seen him often wait About the Princess lodgings, but ne'r ghess'd What his designs were.

Asc.

No? what a sigh he breath'd now! Many such will blow up the roof; on my small credit There's gunpowder in 'em.

Bea.

How Crack! gunpowder? He's flesh and blood, and devils only carry

Such roaring stuff about 'em: you cannot prove He is or Spirit or Conjurer.

Asc.

That I grant; but he's a Lover, and that's as bad; their sighs Are like petards, and blow all up:

Bea.

A Lover! I have been in love my self, but never found yet That it could work such strange effects.

Asc.

True, Madam, In women it cannot; for when they miss th'enjoying Of their full wishes, all their sighs and heigh-hoes At the worst breed timpanies, and these are cur'd too With a kiss or two of their Saint, when he appears Between a pair of sheets: but with us men The case is otherwise.

Bea.

You will be breech'd, boy, For your physical maxims: But how are you assur'd He is a Lover?

Asc.

Who, I? I know with whom too, But that is to be whisper'd.

Whispers

Bea.

How? the Princess! th'unparallel'd Matilda! Some proof of it; I'll pay for my intelligence.

Gives him gold.

Asc.

Let me kiss Your Honors hand; 'twas ever fair, but now Beyond comparison.

Bea.

I ghess the reason; A giving hand is still fair to the receiver.

Asc.

Your Ladiship's in the right: but to the pur∣pose, He is my Client, and pays his fees as duly As ever Usurer did in a bad cause To his man of law; and yet I get, and take 'em Both easily and honestly: All the service I do him, is to give him notice when And where the Princess will appear; and that I hope's no treason: If you miss him when

She goes to the Vesper or the Mattins, hang me; Or when she takes the air, be sure to find him Near her coach; at her going forth, or coming back: But if she walk, he's ravisht; I have seen him smel out Her footing like a Lime-hound, and knows it From all the rest of her train.

Bea.

Yet I ne'r saw him present her a petition,

Asc.

Nore'r shall: He only sees her, sighs, and sacrifices A tear or two; then vanishes.

Bea.

'Tis most strange: What a sad aspect he wears! but I'll make use of't. The Princess is much troubled with the threats That come from Florence; I will bring her to him, The novelty may afford her sport, and help To purge deep melancholy. Boy, can you stay Your Client here for the third part of an hour? I have some ends in't.

Asc.

Stay him, Madam; fear not: The present receipt of a round sum of crowns, And that will draw most Gallants from their prayers, Cannot drag him from me.

Bea.

See you do.

Asc.

Ne'r doubt me, I'll put him out of his dream. Good morrow Signior.

Gal.

My little friend, good morrow: Hath the Princess Slept well to night?

Asc.

I hear not from her women One murmur to the contrary.

Gal.

Heaven be prais'd for't: Does she go to Church this morning?

Asc.

Troth I know not; I keep no key of her de∣votion, Signior.

Gal.

Goes she abroad? pray tell me.

Asc.

'Tis thought rather She is resolv'd to keep her chamber.

Gal.

Ay me!

Asca.

Why do you sigh? If that you have a business To be dispatch'd in Court, shew ready mony, You shall find those that will prefer it for you.

Gal.

Business! can any man have business, but To see her, then admire her, and pray for her, She being compos'd of goodness? For my self, I find it a degree of happiness But to be near her; and I think I pay A strict religious vow, when I behold her, And that's all my ambition.

Asca.

I believe you: Yet she being absent, you may spend some hours With profit and delight too. After dinner The Duke gives audience to a rough Ambassador, Whom yet I never saw, nor heard his title, Imploy'd from Florence: I'll help you to a place Where you shall see and hear all.

Gal.

Tis not worth my observation.

Asca.

What think you of An excellent Comedy to be presented For his entertainment? He that penn'd it, is The Poet of the time; and all the Ladies (I mean the amorous and learned ones) Except the Princess, will be there to grace it.

Gal.

What's that to me? without her all is no∣thing, The light that shines in Court, Cimerian darkness: I will to bed agen, and there contemplate On her perfections.

Enter Matilda, Beatrix, and two Women.

Asca.

Stay sir! see the Princess, Beyond our hopes.

Gal.

Take that, as Moors salute

The rising Sun with joyful superstition: I could fall down and worship. O my heart!

aside

Like Phoebe breaking through an envious cloud, Or something which no simile can express, She shews to me; a reverend fear, but blended With wonder and amazement, does possess me; Now glut thy self, my famish'd eye.

Bea.

That's he, an't please your Excellence.

1 Wo.

Observe his posture, But with a quarter-look.

2 Wo.

Your eye fix'd on him, will breed astonish∣ment.

Matil.

A comely Gentleman! I would not que∣stion your relation, Lady, Yet faintly can believe it: How he eyes me! Will he not speak?

Bea.

Your Excellence hath depriv'd him Of speech and motion.

Mat.

'Tis most strange.

Asc.

These fits are usual with him.

Mat.

Is it not, Ascanio, A personated folly? or he a statue? If it be, it is a master-piece; for man I cannot think him.

Bea.

For your sport vouchsafe him a little con∣ference.

Mat.

In compassion rather: For should he love me as you say (though hopeless) It should not be return'd with scorn; that were An inhumanity, which my birth nor honor Could priviledge, were they greater. Now I perceive He has life and motion in him; to whom, Lady, Pays he that duty?

Galeaz. bowing, offers to go off.

Bea.

Sans doubt to your self.

Mat.

And whither goes he now?

Asc.

To his private lodging,

But to what end I know not; this is all I ever noted in him.

Mat.

Call him back: In pitty I stand bound to counsel him, Howe'r I am denied, though I were willing To ease his sufferings.

Asc.

Signior, the Princess commands you to attend her.

Gal.

How? the Princess! am I betraid?

Asc.

What a lump of flesh is this? You are betraid, sir, to a better fortune Then you durst ever hope for: What a Tantalus Do you make your self? the flying fruit stays for you, And the water that you long'd for, rising up Above your lip, do you refuse to taste it? Move faster, sluggish Camel, or I will thrust This goad in your breech: Had I such a promising beard, I should need the reins, not spurs.

Mat.

You may come nearer; Why do you shake, sir? If I flatter not My self, there's no deformity about me, Nor any part so monstrous to beget An ague in you.

Gal.

It proceeds not, Madam, from guilt, but re∣verence.

Mat.

I believe you sir; have you a suit to me?

Gal.

Your Excellence is wondrous fair.

Mat.

I thank your good opinion.

Gal.

And I beseech you that I may have licence To kneel to you.

Mat.

A suit I cannot cross.

Gal.

I humbly thank your Excellence.

Mat.

But what, As you are prostrate on your knee before me, Is your petition?

Gal.

I have none, great Princess,

Mat.

Do you kneel for nothing?

Gal.

Yes, I have a suit; But such a one, as if denied, will kill me.

Mat.

Take comfort; it must be of some strange nature, Unfitting you to ask, or me to grant, If I refuse it.

Gal.

It is, Madam, —

Mat.

Out with't.

Gal.

That I may not offend you, this is all, When I presume to look on you.

Asc.

A flat Eunuch! to look on her? I should desire my self. To move a little further.

Mat.

Only that?

Gal.

And I beseech you, Madam, to believe I never did yet with a wanton eye Or cherish one lascivious wish beyond it.

Bea.

You'll never make good Courtier, or be In grace with Ladies.

1 Woman.

Or us Waiting-Women, if that be your Nil ultra.

2 Woman.

He's no Gentleman, on my virginity it is apparent: My Tailor has more boldness, nay my shoo-maker Will fumble a little further, he could not have The length of my foot else.

Mat.

Only to look on me? ends your ambition there?

Gal.

It does, great Lady, And that confin'd too, and at fitting distance: The Fly that plays too neer the flame, burns in it. As I behold the sun, the stars, the Temples, I look upon you, and wish'twere no sin, Should I adore you.

Mat.

Come, there's somthing more in't; And since that you will make a Goddess of me, As such a one, I'll tell you, I desire not The meanest Altar rais'd up to mine honor To be pull'd down; I can accept from you (Be your condition nere so far beneath me) One grain of incense with devotion offer'd, Beyond all perfumes or Sabean spices By one that proudly thinks he merits in it: I know you love me.

Gal.

Next to heaven, Madam, And with as pure a zeal. That we behold With th'eyes of contemplation, but can Arrive no nearer to it in this life; But when that is divorc'd, my soul shall serve yours, And witness my affection.

Mat.

Pray you rise, but wait my further pleasure.

Enter Farneze and Uberti.

Far.

I'll present you, And give you proof I am your friend, a true one; And in my pleading for you, teach the age That cals erroniously Friendship but a name, It is a substance. Madam, I am bold To trench so far upon your privacie, As to desire my friend (Let not that wrong him, For he's a worthy one) may have the honor To kiss your hand.

Mat.

His own worth challengeth a greater favor.

Far.

Your acknowledgment Confirms it, Madam: If you look on him As he's built up a man, without addition Of fortunes liberal favors, wealth or titles, He doth deserve no usual entertainment.

But as he is a Prince, and for your service Hath left fair Parma (that acknowledges No other Lord) and uncompell'd exposes His person to the dangers of war, Ready to break in storms upon our heads; In noble thankfulness you may vouchsafe him Neerer respect, and such grace as may nourish, Not kill his amorous hopes.

Mat.

Cozen, you know I am not the disposer of my self, The Duke my father challengeth that power: Yet thus much I dare promise; Prince Uberti Shall find the seed of service that he sows Fals not on barren ground.

Uber.

For this high favor I am your creature, and profess I owe you Whatever I call mine.

They walk

Gal.

This great Lord is A Suitor to the Princess.

Asca.

True, he is so:

Ga.

Fame gives him out too for a brave Comander

Asca.

And in it does him but deserved right; The Duke hath made him General of his horse On that assurance.

Gal.

And the Lord Farneze pleads for him, as it seems.

Asca.

'Tis too apparent: And this consider'd, give me leave to ask What hope have you sir?

Gal.

I may still look on her, Howe'r he wear the garland.

Asca.

A thin diet, and will not feed you fat, sir.

Uber.

I rejoice, rare Princess, that you are not to be won By Carpet-courtship, but the sword: with this Steel-pen I'll write on Florence helm, how much I can, and dare do for you.

Mat.

'Tis not question'd, Some private business of mine own dispos'd of, I'll meet you in the presence.

Vber.

Ever your servant.

Ex. Vber. Farne.

Mat.

Now sir to you: You have observ'd, I doubt not, (For Lovers are sharp. sighted) to what purpose This Prince sollicites me; and yet I am not So taken with his worth, but that I can Vouchsafe you further parle. The first command That I'll impose upon you, is to hear And follow my good councel: I am not Offended that you love me: persist in it, But love me vertuously, such love may spur you To noble undertakings, which atchiev'd, Will raise you into name, preferment, honor: For all which, though you ne'r enjoy my person, (For that's impossible) you are indebted To your high aims; visit me when you please, I do allow it, nor will blush to own you, (So you confine your self to what you promise) As my vertuous servant.

Bea.

Farewel sir, you have An unexpected Cordial.

Asc.

May it work well.

Exeunt. manet Gal.

Gal.

Your love, yes, so she said, may spur you to Brave undertakings: Adding this, You may Visit me when you please. Is this allowed me, And any act within the power of man Impossible to be effected? no, I will break through all oppositions that May stop me in my full carier to honor; And borrowing strength to do, from her high favor, Add somthing to Alcides greatest labor.

Exit.

Enter Gonzaga, Vberti, Farneze, Manfroy, Attendants.

Gon.

This is your place, and were it in our power, You should have greater honor, Prince of Parma: The rest know theirs; let some attend with care On the Ambassador, and let my Daughter Be present at his audience. Reach a chair, We'll do all fit respects; and pray you put on Your milder looks; you are in a place where frowns Are no prevailing agents.

Enter (at one door) Alonzo and Attendants: Matilda, Beatrix, Ascanio, Galeazo, and Waiting-women (at the other.)

Asc:

I have seen More then a wolf, a Gorgon:

[Swouns]

Gon.

What's the matter?

Mat.

A Page of mine is faln into a swoun, Look to him carefully.

Gon.

Now when you please, the cause that brought you hither?

Alon.

The protraction Of my dispatch forgotten, from Lorenzo The Tuscan Duke, thus much to you Gonzaga The Duke of Mantua: By me his nephew He does salute you fairly, and intreats (A word not suitable to his power and greatness) You would consent to tender that, which he Unwillingly must force, if contradicted. Ambition, in a private man a vice, Is in a Prince the vertue.

Gonza.

To the purpose; these ambages are im∣pertinent.

Alon.

He demands The fair Matilda (for I dare not take From her perfections) in a noble way; And in creating her the comfort of His royal bed, to raise her to a height Her flattering hopes could not aspire, where she With wonder shall be gaz'd upon, and live The envy of her sex.

Gonza.

Suppose this granted.

Uber.

Or if denied, what follows?

Alon.

Present war, with all extremities the Con∣queror can Inflict upon the vanquish'd.

Uber.

Grant me licence To answer this defiance: What intelligence Holds your proud Master with the will of Heaven, That ere th'uncertain Dye of War be thrown, He dares assure himself the victory? Are his unjust invading Arms of fire? Or those we put on in defence of right, Like chaff to be consum'd in the encounter? I look on your dimensions, and find not Mine own of lesser size; the blood that fills My veins, as hot as yours; my sword as sharp, My nerves of equal strength, my heart as good, And confident we have the better cause, Why should we fear the trial?

Far.

You presume you are superior in numbers; we Lay hold upon the surest anchor, vertue; Which when the tempest of the war roars loudest, Must prove a strong protection.

Gonza.

Two main reasons (seconding those you have already heard) Gives us encouragement: The duty that

I owe my mother Country, and the love Descending to my daughter. For the first, Should I betray her liberty, I deserv'd To have my name with infamy raz'd from The catalogue of good Princes: And I should Unnaturally forget I am a father, If like a Tartar, or for fear or profit, I should consign her as a bondwoman To be dispos'd of at anothers pleasure, Her own consent or favor never su'd for, And mine by force exacted. No, Alonzo, She is my only child, my heir; and if A fathers eyes deceive me not, the hand Of prodigal nature hath given so much to her, As in the former ages Kings would rise up In her defence, and makes her cause their quarrel: Nor can she, if that any spark remain To kindle a desire to be possest Of such a beauty, in our time want swords To guard it safe from violence.

Gal.

I must speak, or I shall burst; now to be silent, were A kind of blasphemy. If such purity, Such innocence, an abstract of perfection, The soul of beauty, vertue, in a word, A Temple of things sacred, should groan under The burthen of opprestion, we might Accuse the Saints, and tax the Powers above us Of negligence or injustice. Pardon, sir, A strangers boldness, and in your mercy call it True zeal, not rudeness: In a cause like this, The Husbandman would change his ploughing-irons To weapons of defence, and leave the earth Untill'd, although a general dearth should follow: The Student would forswear his book; the Lawyer Put off his thriving gown, and without pay

Conclude this case is to be fought, not pleaded: The women will turn Amazons, as their sex In her were wrong'd; and boys write down their names I'th' muster-book for soldiers.

Gonza.

Take my hand; Whatev'r you are, I thank you: how are you call'd?

Gal.

Hortensio, a Millanoise.

Gonza.

I wish Mantua had many such. My Lord Ambassador, Some privacie if you please: Manfroy, you may Partake it, and advise us.

They go aside.

Uber.

Do you know, friend, What this man is, or of what country?

Far.

Neither.

Uber.

I'll question him my self; what are you sir?

Gal.

A Gentleman.

Uber.

But if there be gradation In Gentry, as the Heralds say, you have Been overbold in the presence of your betters.

Gal.

My betters, sir?

Uber.

Your betters! as I take it, you are no Prince.

Gal.

'Tis fortunes gift you were born one: I have not heard that glorious title crowns you As a reward of vertue; it may be The first of your house deserv'd it, yet his merits You can but faintly call your own.

Mat.

Well answer'd.

Uber.

You come up to me.

Gal.

I would not turn my back If you were the Duke of Florence, though you charg'd me I'th' head of our troops.

Uber.

Tell me in gentler language, (Your passionate speech induces me to think so) Do you love the Princess?

Gal.

Were you mine enemy, Your foot upon my breast, sword at my throat, Even then I would profess it. The ascent To th'height of honor, is by arts or arms: And if such an unequall'd prize might fall On him that did deserve best in defence Of this rare Princess, in the day of battail I should lead you a way would make your Greatness Sweat drops of blood to follow.

Uber.

Can your Excellence Hear this without rebuke from one unknown? Is he a Rival for a Prince?

Mat.

My Lord, you take that liberty I never gave you: In justice you should give encouragement To him or any man that freely offers His life to do me service, not deter him; I give no suffrage to it: Grant he loves me, As he professes, how are you wrong'd in it? Would you have all men hate me but your self? No more of this I pray you: If this Gentleman Fight for my freedom, in a fit proportion To his desert and quality, I can And will reward him, yet give you no cause Of jealousie or envy.

Gal.

Heavenly Lady!

Gonz.

No peace, but on such poor and base con∣ditions? We will not buy it at that rate: Return This answer to your Master: Though we wish'd To hold fair quarter with him, on such terms As honor would give way to, we are not So thunder-struck with the loud voice of war, As to acknowledg him our Lord before His sword hath made us Vassals: we long since Have had intelligence of the unjust gripe He purpos'd to lay on us; neither are we

So unprovided as you think, my Lord, He shall not need to seek us, we will meet him And prove the fortune of a day, perhaps Sooner then he expects.

Alon.

And find repentance when 'tis too late. Farewell.

[Exit with Farneze.]

Gonza.

No, my Matilda, We must not part so: Beasts and birds of prey To their last gasp defend their brood; and Florence Over thy fathers breast shall march up to thee, Before he force affection: The arms That thou must put on for us and thy self, Are prayers and pure devotion, which will Be heard, Matilda. Mansroy, to your trust We do give up the City, and my daughter; On both keep a strong guard: No tears, they are ominous. O my Octavio, my try'd Octavio In all my dangers! now I want thy service, In passion recompenc'd with banishment. Error of Princes, who hate vertue when She's present with us, and in vain admire her When she is absent! 'Tis too late to think on't: The wish'd for time is come, Princely Uberti, To shew your valour; Friends being to do, not talk. All rhetorick is fruitless, only this, Fate cannot rob you of deserv'd applause, Whether you win or lose in such a cause.

Exeunt.