Five nevv playes, viz. The English moor, or the mock-marriage. The love-sick court, or the ambitious politique: Covent Garden weeded. The nevv academy, or the nevv exchange. The queen and concubine. / By Richard Brome.

Act. 1. Scene. 1.

Arthur. Dionysia.

Ar.

DEar Sister, bear with me.

Di.

I may not, brother. What! suffer you to pine, and peak away In your unnatural melancholy fits; Which have already turn'd your purer blood Into a toad-pool dye. I am asham'd (Upon my life) almost to call you brother But nature has her swing in me. I must. Therefore I crave you (as you are my brother) To shake this dull and muddy humor off, By visiting the streets, and quit your chamber, Which is a sickness to you.

Ar.

O my sister!

Di.

I can say, O my brother too, to shew you How it becomes you. I have the same cause Equally with your self, to spend my life In sollitary mourning; and would do it, Could it make good our loss: My honor'd Father!

A tear has scap'd me there: But that's by th'by, And more of anger 'gainst his enemy, And his for ever curs'd posterity, That rob'd us of a Father, then of sorrow For what we know is unrecoverable. But to sit grieving over his Memory In a resolved silence, as you do; Killing your own blood while a vein holds any Proceeding from the flesh, that drew out his, Is meerly idle. Mingle then your grief With thought of brave revenge: And do it not In private Meditation in your Chamber; But bear it out till it proceed to Action.

Ar.

By powring blood on blood?

Di.

By quenching fire Of high revenge, with base unmanly blood; By stopping of our Fathers cureless wounds (Which still bleed fresh in our vex'd memories) With the proud flesh of him that butcher'd ours.

Ar.

We know he lives not that has slain our Father: Or, if he lives, tis where I cannot reach him: He nere saw English harbour since his sword Unfortunately had the better of my father.

Di.

But his son lives.

Ar.

Good sister cool thy passion With reasonable means

Di.

O where's the spirit That my slain father had. Have you no part of't? Must I now play the Man, whilst you inherit Onely my Mothers puling disposition?

Ar.

I know thy drift, good sister Dionisia, Is not unto revenge, or blood; but to stir up Some motion in me, to prevent the danger A sad retiredness may bring upon me.

Di.

Bee't as you think it, so you will abroad; And make the house no longer dark with sighing.

Ent. Rafe

Now Sir the newes with you?

Ra.

Newes worth your hearing, Meerly to laugh at: Good for nothing else.

Di.

Is the old Ruffian tane, and hang'd, that slew My Father; or his son Brain-battered; or His Daughter made a prostitute to shame?

Ar.

How merciless are your wishes!

Ra.

Lady, no. But as I was hankring at an ordinary, In quest of a new Master (for this, here, Will never last to a new livory 'Less he were merrier) I heard the bravest noise Of Laughter at a wicked accident Of Marriage, that was chopt up this Morning.

Di.

What marriage? Quickly.

Ra.

Who do you think Has married fair Mistris Millicent?

Di.

Theophilus (I can name him, though his father Was fatal unto mine) was sure to her.

Ra.

Yes, but without a Priest. She has slipt his hold, And is made fast enough unto another, For which fine Mr. The. so whines and chafes, And hangs the head! More then he would do For's father, were he hanged, as you did wish For laughing newes eene now. Ther's sport for you.

Di.

It does me good to hear of any cross That may torment their family. I wish Joy to the man that did beguile him of her What ere he be.

Ar.

But who has married her?

Ra.

Thence springs the jest. Old Mr. Quicksands, Sir, The bottomless devourer of young Gentlemen; He that has liv'd, till past three-score, a batcheler, By three-score i'the hundred; he that has Undone by Mortgages and under-buyings So many Gentlemen, that they all despair'd

Of means to be reveng'd.

Ar.

But where's your Jest?

Ra.

The Jest is, that they now have found that means (As they suppose) by making of him Cuckold. They are laying their heads together in every corner, Contriving of his horns, and drinking healths To the success. And there were sport for you now, If you were any body.

Ar.

I'le abroad however.

Di.

That's nobly said. Take courage with you Brother.

Ar.

And yet me thinks I know not how to look The wide world in the face, thus on the sudden I would fain get abroad, yet be unknown.

Ra.

For that Sir (look you) I have here, by chance, A false beard which I borrowed, with a purpose To ha' worn't and put a jest upon your sadness.

Ar.

Does it do well with me?

Ar. puts on the beard.

Ra.

You'l never have One of your own so good: you look like Hector.

Ar.

Go fetch my sword and follow me.

Di.

Be sure you carry a strict eye o're his actions, And bring me a true account.

Ra.

I warrant you Mistriss.

Di.

Do, and I'le love thee everlastingly. Why, now you are my brother.

Ar.

Farewel Sister.

Exit. Ar. Ra.

Di.

I hope he has some stratagem a foot In our revenge to make his honour good: It is not grief can quit a fathers blood.

Exit.