Fifty comedies and tragedies written by Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher, Gentlemen ; all in one volume, published by the authors original copies, the songs to each play being added.

Scaena Secunda.

Enter Theodosio and Phillipo on several Beds.

Theo.

Oh,—ho? oh—ho?

Phi.

Ha?

Theo.

Oh—oh? heart — heart—heart—heart?

Phil.

What's that?

Theo.

When wilt thou break?—break, break, break?

Phil.

Ha? I would the voice were strong, or I nearer,

Theo.

Shame, shame, eternal shame? what have I done?

Phil.

Done?

Theo.

And to no end, what a wild journey Have I more wildly undertaken?

Phil.

Journey?

Theo.

How, without counsel? care? reason, or fear?

Phil.

Whither will this fit carry?

Theo.

Oh my folly,

Phil.

This is no common sickness.

Theo.

How have I left All I should love, or keep? oh heaven.

Phil.

Sir,

Theo.

Ha?

Phil.

How do you gentle Sir?

Theo.

Alas my fortune

Phil.

It seems your sorrow oppresses: please your goodness, Let me bear half, Sir: a divided burthen Is so made lighter.

Theo.

Oh,

Phil,

That sigh betraies The fulness of your grief

Theo.

I, if that grief Had not bereft me of my understanding, I should have well remembred where I was, And in what company; and clapt a lock Upon this tongue for talking.

Phil.

Worthy Sir Let it not add to your grief, that I have heard A sigh or groan come from you: That is all Sir:

The.

Good Sir no more: you have heard too much I fear, Would I had taken Poppy when I spake it.

Phi.

It seems you have an ill belief of me And would have fear'd much more, had you spoke ought I could interpret. But believe it Sir Had I had means to look into your breast, And tane you sleeping here, that so securely I might have read all that your woe would hide I would not have betraid you.

Theo.

Sir, that speech Is very noble, and almost would tempt My need to trust you.

Phil.

At your own election, I dare not make my faith so much suspected As to protest again: nor am I curious To know more than is fit.

Theo.

Sir, I will trust you But you shall promise Sir to keep your bed, And whatsoe'r you hear, not to importune More I beseech you from me

Phi.

Sir I will not.

Theo.

Than I am prone to utter.

Phi.

My faith for it.

Theo.

If I were wise, I yet should hold my peace

You will be noble?

Phil.

You shall make me so If you'll but think me such.

Theo.

I do: then know You are deceiv'd with whom you have talk'd so long. I am a most unfortunate lost woman.

Phil.

Ha?

Theo.

Do not stir Sir: I have here a Sword.

Phil.

Not I sweet Lady: of what blood, or name.

Theo.

You'll keep your faith.

Phil.

I'll perish else.

Theo.

Believe then Of birth too noble for me, so descended— I am asham'd, no less than I am affrighted.

Phil.

Fear not: by all good things, I will not wrong you.

Theo.

I am the Daughter of a noble Gentleman Born in this part of Spain: my fathers name Sir: But why should I abuse that reverence When a childs duty has forsaken me.

Phil.

All may be mended, in fit time too: speak it

Theo.

Alphonso, sir.

Phil.

Alphonso? What's your own name?

Theo.

Any base thing you can invent.

Phil.

Deal truly.

Theo.

They call me Theodosia.

Phil.

Ha? and love Is that that hath chang'd you thus?

Theo.

Ye have observ'd me Too nearly Sir, 'tis that indeed: 'tis love Sir: And love of him (oh heavens) why should men deal thus? Why should they use their arts to cozen us? That have no cunning, but our fears about us? And ever that too late too; no dissembling Or double way but doating: too much loving? Why should they find new oaths, to make more wretches?

Phil.

What may his name be?

Theo.

Sir, a name that promises Methinks no such ill usage: Mark—Antonio A noble neighbors son: Now I must desire ye To stay a while: else my weak eyes must answer

Phil.

I will:—Are ye yet ready? what is his quality?

Theo.

His best a thief Sir: that he would be known by Is heir to Leonardo, a rich Gentleman: Next of a handsome body, had heaven made him A mind fit to it. To this man my fortune, (My more than purblind fortune) gave my faith, Drawn to it by as many shews of service And signs of truth, as ever false tongue utter'd: Heaven pardon all.

Phil.

'Tis well said: forward Lady.

Theo.

Contracted Sir, and by exchange of rings Our souls deliver'd: nothing left unfinish'd But the last work, enjoying me, and Ceremony. For that I must confess was the first wise doubt I ever made: yet after all this love Sir, All this profession of his faith; when daily And hourly I expected the blest Priest He left me like a dream, as all this story Had never been, nor thought of, why, I know not; Yet I have called my conscience to confession, And every syllable that might offend I have had in shrift: yet neither loves Law Signior, Nor tye of Maidens duty, but desiring Have I transgrest in: left his father too, Nor whither he is gone, or why departed Can any tongue resolve me: All my hope (Which keeps me yet alive, and would perswade me I may be once more happy, and thus shapes me A shame to all my modest Sex) is this Sir, I have a Brother and his old Companion, Student in Salamanca, there my last hope If he be yet alive, and can be loving It left me to recover him: For which travel In this Sute left at home of that dear Brothers Thus as you find me, without fear, or wisdom, I have wander'd from my Father, fled my friends, And now am only child of hope and danger: You are now silent Sir: this tedious story (That ever keeps me waking) makes you heavy: 'Tis fit it should do so: for that, and I Can be but troubles.

Phil.

No, I sleep not Lady: I would I could: oh heaven is this my comfort?

Theo.

What ail you gentle Sir?

Phil.

Oh.

Theo.

Why do you groan so?

Phil.

I must, I must; oh misery;

Theo.

But now Sir, You were my comfort: if any thing afflict ye Am not I fit to bear a part on't? and by your own rule?

Phil.

No; if you could heal, as you have wounded me, But 'tis not in your power.

Theo.

I fear intemperance.

Phil.

Nay, do not seek to shun me: I must see you: By heaven I must: hoa, there mine Host: a Candle: Strive not, I will not stir ye.

Theo.

Noble Sir This is a breach of promise.

Phil.

Tender Lady It shall be none but necessary: hoa, there, Some light, some light for heavens sake.

Theo.

Will ye betray me? Are ye a Gentleman?

Phil.

Good woman:

Theo.

Sir.

Enter Diego with a light.

Phil.

If I be prejudicial to you, curse me.

Dieg.

Ye are early stirring Sir.

Phil.

Give me your Candle And so good morrow for a while.

Dieg.

Good morrow Sir.

Exit.

Theo.

My Brother Don Philippo: nay Sir, kill me I ask no mercy Sir, for none dare know me, I can deserve none: As ye look upon me Behold in infinite these foul dishonors, My noble Father, then your self, last all That bear the name of kindred, suffer in me: I have forgot whose child I am; whose Sister: Do you forget the pity tied to that: Let not compassion sway you: you will be then As foul as I, and bear the same brand with me, A favourer of my fault: ye have a sword Sir, And such a cause to kill me in.

Phil.

Rise Sister, I wear no sword for Women: nor no anger While your fair chastity is yet untouch'd.

Theo.

By those bright Stars, it is Sir.

Phil.

For my Sister I do believe ye: and so neer blood has made us With the dear love I ever bore your virtues That I will be a Brother to your griefs too: Be comforted, 'tis no dishonor Sister To love, nor to love him you do: he is a Gentleman Of as sweet hopes, as years, as many promises, As there be growing Truths, and great ones.

Theo.

O Sir I

Phil.

Do not despair.

Theo.

Can ye forgive?

Phil.

Yes Sister, Though this be no small error, a far greater.

Theo.

And think me still your Sister?

Phil.

My dear Sister.

Theo.

And will you counsel me?

Phil.

To your own peace too: Ye shall love still.

Theo.

How good ye are?

Phil.

My business, And duty to my Father: which now drew me

From Salamanca I will lay aside And only be your Agent to perswade ye To leave both love, and him, and well retire ye.

Theo.

Oh gentle Brother.

Phil.

I perceive 'tis folly: Delaies in love, more dangerous.

Theo.

Noble Brother.

Phil.

Fear not, I'll run your own way: and to help you, Love having rackt your passions beyond counsel: I'll hazard mine own fame: whither shall we venture?

Theo.

Alas, I know not Sir

Phil.

Come, 'tis bright morning Let's walk out, and consider: you'll keep this habit.

Theo.

I would Sir.

Phil.

Then it shall be: what must I call ye? Come, do not blush: pray speak, I may spoil all else.

Theo.

Pray call me Theodoro.

Enter Diego.

Dieg.

Are ye ready? The day draws on apace: once more good morrow.

Theo.

Good morrow gentle Host: now I must thank ye:

Phil.

Who dost thou think this is?

Die.

Were you a wench Sir, I think you would know before me.

Phil.

Mine own Brother.

Dieg.

By th' Masse your noses are akin: should I then Have been so barbarous to have parted Brothers?

Phi.

You knew it then.

Dieg.

I knew 'twas necessary You should be both together: Instinct Signior, Is a great matter in an Host.

Theo.

I am satisfied.

Enter Pedro.

Ped.

Is not mine Host up yet?

Phi.

Who's that?

Die.

I'll see.

Phil.

Sister, withdraw your self.

Ped.

Signior Philippo.

Phil.

Noble Don Pedro, where have you been this way?

Ped.

I came from Port St. Maries, whence the Gallies Put this last tide, and bound for Barcelona, I brought Mark-antonie upon his way

Phi.

Marc-antonie?

Ped.

Who is turn'd Soldier, And entertain'd in the new Regiment, For Naples?

Phi.

Is it possible?

Ped.

I assure you.

Phi.

And put they in at Barcelona?

Ped.

So One of the Masters told me.

Phi.

Which way go you Sir?

Ped.

Home.

Phi.

And I for Sivil: pray you Sir; say not That you saw me, if you shall meet the question, I have some little business

Ped.

Were it less Sir. It shall not become me, to lose the caution: Shall we breakfast together?

Phi.

I'll come to you Sir: Sister you hear this: I believe your fortune Begins to be propitious to you: we will hire Mules of mine Host here: if we can, himself To be our guide, and straight to Barcelona, This was as happy news, as unexpected Stay you till I rid him away.

Theo.

I will.

Exeunt