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 Prima.

Enter Dutchess, Syenna, and Lords.

Sy.

LAdy, the stubborn war's more mild than you are, That allows Ransom, and the Prisoner taken—

Dutch.

We must not be too hasty: Remember Sir, The wrong and violence you have offer'd us, Burnt up our frontier Towns, made prey before ye Both of our Beasts, and Corn; slain our dear subjects, Open'd the fountain eyes of thousand widows, That daily fling their curses on your fury; What ordinary satisfaction can salve this? What hasty thought-on Ransome give a remedy? You must excuse us yet, we'll take more counsel: In the mean time, not as a prisoner, But as a noble Prince we entertain ye.

Sy.

I am at your mercy Lady, 'tis my fortune, My stubborn fate; the day is yours, you have me, The valour of one single man has cross'd me, Crost me and all my hope; for when the Battel's Were at the hottest game of all their furies, And conquest ready then to crown me Victor. One single man broke in, one sword, one vertue, And by his great example thousands followed, Oh how I shame to think on't, how it shakes me! Nor could our strongest head then stop his fury, But like a tempest bore the field before him, Till he arriv'd at me, with me he buck'lled, A while I held him play; at length his violence Beat me from my saddle, then on foot pursu'd me, There triumph'd once again, then took me prisoner: When I was gone, a fear possest my people.

Dutch.

One single arm, in a just cause, heaven prospers. Is not this stranger Knight as yet discover'd, That we may give his virtue a due honor?

Lord.

Not yet that we hear Madam, but to that purpose, Two daies ago we publish'd Proclamations.

Enter Soto with a Trumpet, and Silvio.

Soto.

Oh dainty Dutchess, here I bring that Knight Before thy fragrant face, that warlike wight, He that Syenna's Duke, and all his Louts Beat (as the Proverb seemly saies) to clouts: He that unhors'd the man o' fame to boot, And bootless taught his Grace to walk afoot: He that your writings (pack'd to every pillar) Promis'd promotion to, and store of siller, That very man I set before thy Grace, And once again pronounce, this man it was.

Dutch.

A pretty foolish Squire, what must the Knight be?

Sy.

Some Jugler or some Mad man,

Sil.

I was not so, When thy faint Troops in flocks I beat before me, When, through the thickest of thy warlike horse, I shot my self even to thy Standard Duke, And there found thee, there singled thee, there shew'd thee The temper of my Sword. 'Tis true, thou stoodst me, And like a noble soldier bidst me welcome; And this I'll say, More honor in that arme, I found and tryed, than all thy Army carried: What follows thy imprisonment can tell thee.

Sy.

His fair relation carries truth and virtue, And by those Arms I see, (for such were his, So old, so rusty) this may be he that forc'd me.

Sil.

Do you know this Jewel, from your Cask I rent it, Even as I clos'd, and forced ye from your saddle; Do you now remember me -

Sy.

This is the valour Madam, for certain he, it must be he, That day I wore this Jewel, you remember it.

Dutch.

Yes, very well; not long before I sent it.

Sy.

That day I lost this Jewel, in fight I lost it, I felt his strokes, and felt him take it from me, I wore it in my Cask; take it again Sir, You won it nobly, 'tis the prize of honor.

Soto.

My Father and my self are made for ever.

Dutch.

Kneel down brave Sir thus my Knight first I raise ye, Gird on a Sword; next General of my Army,

Discovers himself.

Give him a staff; last, one in Counsel near me. Now, make us happy with your sight: how? Silvio? Have I on thee bestow'd this love, this honor? The Treasons thou hast wrought set off with favours? Unarm him presently: Oh thou foul Traitor, Traitor to me, mine honor, and my Countrey, Thou kindler of these Wars.

Sil.

Mistake not Madam.

Dutch.

Away with him to prison, See him safe kept, the Law shall shortly sirrah, Find fitter Titles for ye, than I gave ye.

Soto.

This is the youth that kill'd me, I'll be quit with him, What a blind rogue was I, I could never know him? And't please your Grace, I claim the benefit Of the Proclamation that proclaim'd him Traitor, I brought him in.

Dutch.

Thou shalt have thy reward for't.

Soto.

Let him be hang'd, or drown'd then,

Dutch.

Away with him.

Sil.

Madam, I crave your promise first; you are tyed to it, You have past your Princely word.

Dutch.

Prove it, and take it.

Sil.

This is the day appointed, Appointed by your Grace for my appearance, To answer to the Question.

Dutch.

I remember it.

Sil.

I claim it then,

Dutch,

If you perform it not, The penalty you claim too.

Sil.

I not repent it; If I absolve the words?

Dutch.

Your life is free then, You have drawn a speedy course above my wishes,

To my revenge, be sure ye hit it right, Or I'll be sure you shall not scape the danger.

Sil.

My rest is up now Madam.

Dutch.

Then play it cunningly.

Sil.

Now, where's the Hag? where now are all her promises, She would be with me, strengthen me, inform me? My death will now be double death, ridiculous? She was wont still to be near, to feel my miseries, And with her Art, I see her no where now; What have I undertaken? now she fails me, No comfort now I find, how my soul staggers? Till this hour never fear nor doubt possest me, She cannot come, she will not come, she has fool'd me; Sure, she is the Devil, has drawn me on to ruine, And now to death bequeaths me in my danger.

Sy.

He stands distracted, and his colour changes.

Dutch.

I have given him that will make his blood forsake him; Shortly his life.

Sy,

His hands and contemplation Have motion still, the rest is earth already.

Duc.

Come, will ye speak or pray? your time grows out Sir; How every where he looks? he's at last cast.

Enter Belvidere, and secretly gives him a paper, and Exit.

Sy.

His colour comes again fresh.

Duc

'Tis a flash, Sir, Before the flame burns out; can ye yet answer?

Sil.

Yes Madam, now I can.

Duc.

I fear you'll sail in't.

Sil.

And do not think my silence a presage, Or Omen to my end, you shall not find it; I am bred a Soldier not an Orator: Madam, peruse this scrowl, let that speak for me, And as you are Royal, wrong not the construction.

Dutch.

By heaven you shall have fair play.

Sil.

I shall look for't.

Question.

TEll me what is that only thing, For which all women long; Yet having what they most desire, To have it do's them wrong.

Answer.

TIs not to be chaste, nor fair, Such gifts malice may impair; Richly trimm'd to walk or ride, Or to wanton unespy'd; To preserve an honest name, And so to give it up to fame; These are toys. In good or ill They desire to have their Will; Yet when they have it, they abuse it, For they know not how to use it.

Dutch.

You have answer'd right, and gain'd your life, I give it.

Sil.

Oh happy Hag! But my most gracious Madam, Your promise ty'd a nobler favour to me.

Duch.

'Tis true, my Daughter too.

Sil.

I hope you will keep it.

Dutch.

'Tis not in my power now, she is long since wander'd, Stol'n from Court, and me; and what I have not I cannot give: no man can tell me of her, Nor no search find her out: and ifot Silvio, Which strongly I believe—

Sil.

Mock me not Lady, For as I am a servant to her virtue, Since my first hour of exile, I ne'er saw her.

Lord.

That she is gone, 'tis too too true, and lamentable, Our last hope was in you.

Sil.

What do I hear then, And wherefore have I life bestow'd and honor? To what end do I walk? for men to wonder at, And fight, and fool? pray ye take your honors from me, (My sorrows are not fit companions for 'em) And when ye please my life: Art thou gone Mistriss, And wander'st heaven knows where? this vow I make thee, That till I find thee out, and see those fair eyes; Those eyes that shed their lights, and life into me, Never to know a friend, to seek a kindred, To rest where pleasure dwels, and painted glory, But through the world; the wide world, thus to wander, The wretched world alone, no comfort with me, But the meer meditations of thy goodness: Honor and greatness, thus adieu.

Enter Belvidere.

Bel.

Stay Silvio, And Lady sit again, I come for Justice.

Sil.

What would she now?

Bel.

To claim thy promise Silvio, The boon thou swor'st to give me.

Sy.

What may this be, A Woman or a Devil?

Duch.

'Tis a Witch sure, And by her means he came to untwist this Riddle.

Sil.

That I am bound to her for my life, mine honor; And many other thousand ways for comfort I here confess: confess a promise too, That what she would aske me to requite these favours, Within the endeavour of my life to grant, I would; and here I stand my words full master.

Bel.

I wish no more: great Lady, witness with me, The boon I crave for all my service to thee, Is now to be thy wife, to grant me marriage.

Sil.

How? for to marry thee? ask again woman, Thou wilful woman, ask again.

Bel.

No more Sir.

Sil.

Ask Land, and Life.

Bel.

I aske thee for a Husband.

Soto.

Marry her, and beat her into Gun-powder, She would make rare Crackers.

Sil.

Ask a better fortune, Thou art too old to marry: I a Soldier, And always married to my sword.

Bel.

Thy word Fool, Break that, and I'll break all thy fortunes yet.

Dutch.

He shall not, I am witness to his faith? and I'll compel it.

Sy.

'Tis fit ye hold your word, Sir.

Sil.

Oh most wretched.

Dutch.

This was a fortune now beyond my wishes, For now my Daughter's free, if e'er I find her.

Sy.

But not from me.

Dutch.

You are sharer in this happiness, My self will wait upon this marriage, And do the old woman all the honor possible.

Sy.

I'll lead the Knight, and what there wants in dalliance, We'll take it out in drink.

Sil.

Oh wretched Silvio.

Exeunt.