Two new playes ... written by Tho. Middleton, Gent.

Scaen 3.

Enter Dutchess, Lord Cardinal, and other Lords, Celia.

L. Card.

That which is meerly call'd a will in wo∣man, I cannot always title it with a vertue.

Dutch.

Oh good Sir spare me.

L. Card.

Spare your self, good Madam. Extreamest Justice is not so severe To great offenders, as your own forc'd strictness To beauty, youth and time; you'll answer for't.

Dutch.

Sir settle your own peace, let me make mine.

L. Card.

But here's a heart must pity it, when it thinks on't, I finde compassion, though the smart be yours.

1 Lord.

None here but do's the like.

2 Lord.

Believe it Madam, You have much wrong'd your time.

1 Lord.

Nay, let your Grace But think upon the barrenness of succession.

2 Lord.

Nay more, a Vow enforc'd.

Dutch.

What do you all Forsake me then, and take part with you man; Not one friend have I left I do they all fight

Under th'inglorious banner of his censure, Serve under his opinion?

L. Card.

So will all Madam, Whose judgments can but taste a rightful cause, I look for more force yet; nay, your own women Will shortly rise against you, when they know The war to be so just and honorable As marriage is: You cannot name that woman, Will not come ready arm'd for such a cause: Can Chastity be any whit impair'd By that which makes it perfect? Answer Madam, Do you profess constancy, and yet live alone? How can that hold! y'are constant then to none. That's a dead vertue, goodness must have practice, Or else it ceases; then is woman said To be love chaste, knowing but one mans bed: A mighty vertue; beside, fruitfulness Is part of the salvation of your sex; And the true use of Wedlocks time and space, Is womans exercise for Faith and Grace.

Dutch.

Oh what have you done my Lord?

L. Card.

Laid the way plain To knowledge of your self and your Creation, Unbound a forced Vow, that was but knit By the strange jealousie of your dying Lord, Sinful i'th' fastning.

Dutch.

All the powres of Constancy Will curse you for this deed.

L. Card.

You speak in pain Madam, And so I take your words, like one in sickness That rails at his best friend: I know a change Of disposition has a violent working In all of us; 'tis fit it should have time And councel with it self: May you be fruitful Ma∣dam In all the blessings of an honor'd love.

1 Lord.

In all your wishes fortunate, and I The cheif of 'em my self.

L. Card.

Peace be at your heart Lady.

1 Lord.

And love, say I.

L. Card.

We'll leave good thoughts now, to bring in themselves.

Exit Lords.

Dutch.

O there's no art like a religious cunning, It carries away all things smooth before it. How subtilly has his wit dealt with the Lords To fetch in their perswasions, to a business That stands in need of none, yeilds of it self As most we women do, when we seem farthest? But little thinks the Cardinal he's requited After the same proportion of deceit As he sets down for others.

Enter Page.

Oh here's the pretty Boy, he preferr'd to me, I never saw a meeker, gentler youth Yet made for mans beginning: How unfit Was that poor fool, to be Lactantio's Page, He would have spoil'd him quite, in one year utterly, There had been no hope of him. Come hither childe, I have forgot thy name.

Page.

Antonio, Madam.

Dutch.

Antonio! so thou toldst me; I must chide thee, Why didst thou weep, when thou cam'st first to serve me?

Page.

At the distrust of mine own merits Ma∣dam, Knowing I was not born to those deserts To please so great a Mistress.

Dutch.

'Las poor Boy,

That's nothing in thee, but thy modest fear Which makes amends faster then thou canst erre: It shall be my care to have him well brought up As a youth apt for good things. Celia—

Cel.

Madam.

Dutch.

Has he bestow'd his hour to day for Mu∣sick?

Cel

Yes, he has Madam.

Dutch.

How do you finde his voice?

Cel.

A pretty womanish faint sprawling voice Madam, But 'twill grow strong in time, if he take care To keep it when he has it from fond exercises.

Dutch.

Give order to the dancing School-master, Observe an hour with him:

Cel.

It shall be done Lady; He is well made for dancing, thick i'th' Chest Madam, He will turn long and strongly.

Dutch.

He shall not be behinde a quality, That aptness in him or our cost can purchase, And see he lose no time.

Cel.

I'll take that order Madam.

Page.

Singing and dancing! 'las my case is worse, I rather need a Midwife, and a Nurse.

Exit Celia and Page.

Dutch.

Lactantio, my procurer not return'd yet? His malice, I have fitted with an office, Which he takes pleasure to discharge with rigor: He comes, and with him, my hearts Conqueror, My pleasing thraldom's near.

Enter General, Lactantio and the Guard.

Andr.

Not know the cause?

Lact.

Yes, you shall soon do that now, to the ruine

Of your neck-part, or some nine years imprison∣ment, You meet with mercy, and you scape with that; Beside your Lands all begg'd and seis'd upon; That's admirable favor. Here's the Dutchess.

Dutch.

Oh Sir y'are welcome.

Lact.

Marry bless me still From such a welcome.

Dutch.

You are hard to come by, It seems Sir by the guilt of your long stay.

Andr.

My guilt good Madam.

Dutch.

Sure y'had much a do To take him, had you not? speak truth Lactantio, And leave all favor, were you not in danger?

Lact.

Faith something neer it Madam: He grew head-strong, Furious and fierce; but 'tis not my condition To speak the worst things of mine enemy Madam, Therein I hold mine honor: But had fury Burst into all the violent storms that ever Plaid over anger in tempestuous man. I would have brought him to your Graces presence, Dead or alive.

Dutch.

You would not Sir?

Andr.

What pride Of pamper'd blood has mounted up to this puckfoist? If any way uncounsel'd of my judgment, My ignorance has stept into some error, (Which I could heart'ly curse) and so brought on me Your great displeasure, let me feel my sin In the full weight of Justice, vertuous Madam, And let it wake me throughly. But chaste Lady, Out of the bounty of your Grace, permit not This perfum'd parcel of curl'd powder'd hair To cast me in the poor rellish of his censure.

Dutch.

It shall not need good Sir; we are our self Of power sufficient to judge you, nev'r doubt it Sir. Withdraw Lactantio; carefully place your Guard I'th' next Room.

Lact.

You'll but fare the worse; You see your niceness spoils you; you'll go nigh now To feel your sin indeed.

Exit Lactantio and Guard:

Andr.

Hell-mouth be with thee. Was ever malice seen yet to gape wider For mans misfortunes?

Dutch.

First Sir, I should think You could not be so impudent to deny, What your own knowledge proves to you.

Andr.

That were a sin Madam, More gross then flattery spent upon a villain.

Dutch.

Your own confession dooms you Sir.

Andr.

Why Madam.

Dutch.

Do not you know I made a serious vow At my Lords death, never to marry more?

Andr.

That's a truth Madam, I'm a witness to.

Dutch.

Is't so Sir? you'll be taken presently, This man needs no accuser. Knowing so much, How durst you then attempt so bold a business As to sollicite me (so strictly setled) With tempting Letters, and loose lines of love?

Andr.

Who I do't Madam?

Dutch.

Sure the man will shortly Deny he lives, although he walks and breath.

Andr.

Better destruction snatch me quick from sight Of humane eyes, then I should sin so boldly.

Dutch.

'Twas well I kept it then from rage or fire, For my truths credit: Look you Sir, read out,

You know the hand and name:

Andr.

Andrugio!

Dutch.

And if such things be fit, the world shall judge!

Andr.

Madam.

Dutch.

Pish; that's not so; it begins otherwise Pray look again Sir; how you'ld slight your know∣ledge.

Andr.

By all the reputation I late won.

Dutch.

Nay, and you dare not read Sir, I am gone.

Andr.

Read? most fair Dutchess.

Dutch.

Oh, have you found it now? There's a sweet flatt'ring phrase for a beginning, You thought belike, that would o'rcome me.

Andr.

I Madam?

Dutch.

Nay on Sir, you are slothful▪

Andr.

The report of your Vow shall not fear me.

Dutch.

No? are you so resolute? 'Tis well for you Sir:

Andr.

I know y'are but a woman.

Dutch.

Well, what then Sir?

Andr.

And what a woman is, a wiseman knows.

Dutch.

Let him know what he can, he's glad to get us.

Andr.

Perhaps my condition may seem blunt to you.

Dutch:

Well; we finde no fault with your blunt∣ness.

Andr.

But no mans love can be more sharp set.

Dutch.

I there's good stuff now.

Andr.

And I know desires in both sexes have skill at that weapon.

Dutch.

Weapon! You begin like a Flatterer, and end like a Fencer. Are these fit lines now to be sent to us?

Andr.

Now by the honor of a man, his truth Madam, My name's abus'd.

Dutch.

Fie, fie, deny your hand! I will not deny mine; here take it freely Sir, And with it my true constant heart for ever. I never disgrac'd man that sought my favor.

Andr.

What mean you Madam?

Dutch.

To requite you Sir By curtesie, I hold my reputation, And you shall taste it: Sir, in as plain truth As the old time walk'd in, when love was simple And knew no art, nor guile, I affect you; My heart has made her choice. I love you Sir Above my vow; the frown that met you first, Wore not the livery of anger Sir, But of deep policy: I made your enemy The Instrument for all; there you may praise me, And 'twill not be ill given.

Andr.

Here's a strange Language! The constancy of love bless me from learning on't, Although ambition would soon teach it others. Madam, the service of whole life is yours. But—

Dutch.

Enough; thou'rt mine for ever. Within there.

Enter Lactantio, and the Guard.

Lact.

Madam.

Dutch.

Lay hands upon him, bear him hence, See he be kept close prisoner in our Pallace, The time's not yet ripe for our Nuptial Sollace.

Exit.

Lact.

This you could clear your self.

Andr.

There's a voice that wearies me More then mine own distractions.

Lact.

You are innocent?

Andr.

I have not a time idle enough from passion, To give this Devil an answer: Oh she's lost! Curst be that love, by which a better's crost. There my heart's setled.

Lact.

How is he disgrac'd, And I advanc'd in love? Faith he that can Wish more to his enemy, is a spightful man, And worthy to be punish'd.

Exeunt.