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.

Actus Tertius.

Scaena Prima.

Enter Cozen, and Jaques.

Coz.

SHall I believe thee, Jaques?

Ja.

Sir you may.

Coz.

Didst thou not dreame?

Ja.

I did not,

Coz.

Nor imagine?

Ja.

Neither of both: I saw him great and mighty, I saw the Monsieurs bow, and heard them cry, Good health and fortune to my Lord the Duke.

Coz.

A Duke art sure? a Duke?

Ja.

I am sure a Duke, And so sure, as I know my self for Jaques.

Coz.

Yet the Sun may dazel; Jaques, Was it not Some leane Commander of an angry Block-house To keep the Fleemish Eele-boats from invasion, Or some bold Baron able to dispend His fifty pounds a year, and meet the foe Upon the Kings command, in gilded canvas, And do his deeds of worth? or was it not Some place of gain, as Clerk to the great Band Of maribones, that people call the Switzers? Men made of Beufe and Sarcenet?

Ja.

Is a Duke his chamber hung with Nobles like a presence?

Coz.

I am something wavering in my faith; Would you would settle me, and swear 'tis so, Is he a Duke indeed?

Ja.

I swear he is.

Coz.

I am satisfied, he is my Kinsman. Jaques, And I his poor unworthy Cozen.

Ja.

True, Sir.

Coz.

I might have been a Duke too, I had means, A wife as fair as his, and as wise as his; And could have brookt the Court as well as his, And laid about her for her husbands honor: O Jaques, had I ever dreamt of this, I had prevented him.

Ja.

Faith Sir it came Above our expectation, we were wise Only in seeking to undoe this honor, Which shewed our dung-hill breeding and our durt.

Coz.

But tell me Jaques, Why could we not perceive? what dull Divel Wrought us to cross this noble course, perswading 'Twould be his overthrow? 'fore me a Courtier Is he that knows all, Jaques, and does all, 'Tis as his noble Grace hath often said, And very wisely, Jaques, we are fools, And understand just nothing.

Ja.

I, as we were, I confess it. But rising with our great Master, We shall be call'd to knowledge with our places, 'Tis nothing to be wise, not thus much there, There's not the least of the billet dealers, Nor any of the Pastry, or the Kitchin, But have it in measure delicate.

Coz.

Methinks this greatness of the Dukes my Cozens, (I ask you mercy, Jaques, that near name Is too familiar for me) should give promise Of some great benefits to his attendants.

Ja.

I have a suit my self, and it is sure, Or I mistake my ends much.

Coz.

What is't Jaques, May I not crave the place?

Ja.

Yes, Sir, you shall, 'Tis to be but his Graces Secretary, Which is my little all, and my ambition, Till my known worth shall take me by the hand, And set me higher; how the fates may do In this poor thread of life, is yet uncertain; I was not born I take it for a Trencher, Nor to espouse my Mistriss Dairy-maid.

Couz.

I am resolv'd my Wife s••all up to Court; I'll furnish her, that is a speeding cour••e, And cannot chuse but breed a mighty fortune; What a fine youth was I, to let him start, And get the rise before me? I'll dispatch, And put my self in Moneys.

Ja.

Mass 'tis true, And now you talke of Money; Sir, my business For taking those Crowns must be dispatcht: This little plot in the Countrey lies most fit To do his Grace such serviceable uses, I must about it.

Couz.

Yet, before you goe, Give me your hand, and bear my humble service To the great Duke your Master, and his Duchess, And live your self in favor: say my Wife Shall there attend them shortly, so farewell.

Ja.

I'll see you mounted, Sir,

Couz.

It may not be, Your place is far above it, spare your self, And know I am your servant, fare ye well.

Exit Couzen.

Ja.

Sir I shall rest to be commanded by you, This place of Secretary will not content me, I must be more and greater: let me see; To be a Baron is no such great matter As people take it: for say I were a Count, I am still an under-person to this Duke, Which methinks sounds but harshly: but a Duke? O I am strangely taken, 'tis a Duke Or nothing, I'll advise upon't, and see What may be done by wit and industry.

Exit.

Enter Wife, Longoveil, Bewford, Servants.

Wife.

It must be carried closely with a care That no man speak unto him, or come near him, Without our private knowledge, or be made Afore-hand to our practice: My good husband, •• shall entreat you now to stay a while, ••ad prove a noble coxcomb. Gentlemen, ••our counsel and advice about this carriage.

Ser.

Alas good man, I do begin to mourn. His dire Massacre: what a persecution ••s pouring down upon him? sure he is sinful.

Long.

Let him be kept in's chamber under shew Of state and dignity, and no man suffer'd To see his noble face, or have access, But we that are Conspirators.

Bew.

Or else down with him into the Countrey amongst his Tenants, There he may live far longer in his greatness, And play the fool in pomp amongst his fellows.

Wife.

No, he shall play the fool in the City, and stay, •• will not lose the greatness of this jest, That shall be given to my wit, for the whole Revenues.

Ser.

Then thus wee'll have a guard about his person, That no man come too near him, and our selves Alwayes in company; have him into the City To see his face swell; whilst, in divers corners, ••ome of our own appointing shall be ready To cry heaven bless your Grace, long live your Grace.

Wife.

Servant, your counsel's excellent good, ••nd shall be follow'd, 'twill be rarely strange To see him stated thus, as though he went •• shroving through the City, or intended To set up some new Wake: I shall not hold From open laughter, when I hear him cry, Come hither my sweet Duchess: let me kiss Thy gracious lips: for this will be his phrases? I fear me nothing but his legs will break Under his mighty weight of such a greatness.

Bew.

Now me thinks dearest Lady you are too cruel; His very heart will freeze in knowing this.

Wife.

No, no, the man was never of such deepness, To make conceit his Master: Sir, I'll assure ye He will out-live twenty such pageants. Were he but my Cozen, or my Brother. And such a desperate killer of his fortune, In this belief he should dye, though it cost me A thousand Crowns a day to hold it up; Or were I not known his wife, and so to have An equal feeling of this ill he suffers, He should be thus till all the Boyes i'th' Town Made sute to weare his badges in their hats, And walk before his Grace with sticks and nose-gayes, We Married Women hold —

Ser.

'Tis well, no more. The Duke is entring, set you faces right, And bow like Countrey Prologues: here he comes. Make room afore, the Duke is entring.

Enter Duke.

Long.

The choisest fortunes wait upon our Duke,

Ser.

And give him all content and happiness.

Bew.

Let his great name live to the end of time.

Duke.

We thank you, and are pleas'd to give you notice We shall at fitter times wait on your Loves, Till when, be near Us.

Longv.

'Tis a valiant purge, and works extreamly; 'T has delivered him Of all Right worshipful and gentle humors, And left his belly full of nobleness.

Du.

It pleased the King my Master, For sundry vertues not unknown to him, And the all-seeing state, to lend his hand, And raise me to this Eminence, how this May seem to other Men, or stir the minds Of such as are my fellow Peers, I know not, I would desire their loves in just designs.

Wife.

Now by my faith he does well, very well: Beshrew my heart I have not seen a better, Of a raw fellow, that before this day Never rehearst his state: 'tis marvellous well.

Ser.

Is he not Duke indeed, see how he looks As if his spirit were a last, or two Above his veins, and stretcht his noble hide.

Long.

Hee's high-brac't like a Drum, pray God he break not

Bew.

Why let him break, there's but a Calves-skin lost.

Long.

May it please your Grace to see the City, 'Twill be to the minds and much contentment Of the doubtful people,

Du.

I am determin'd so, till my return I leave my honour'd Dutchess to her chamber. Be careful of your health, I pray you be so.

Ser.

Your Grace shall suffer us your humble servants To give attendance, fit so great a person Upon your body.

Du.

I am pleased so.

Long.

Away good Bewford, raise a guard sufficient To keep him from the reach of Tongues, be quick; And do you hear, remember how the streets Must be dispos'd with, for cries, and salutations. Your Grace determines not to see the King —

Du.

Not yet, I shall be ready ten dayes hence To kiss his Highness hand, and give him thanks, As it is fit I should for his great bounty. Set forward Gentlemen.

Groom.

Room for the Duke there.

Exeunt Duke and Train.

Wife.

'Tis fit he should have room to shew his mightiness, He swells so with his poyson, 'Tis better to reclaim ye thus, than make A sheeps-head of you, It had been but your due; But I have mercy Sir, and mean to reclaim you By a directer course. That Woman is not worthy of a Soul That has the sovereign power to rule her husband, And gives her title up, so long provided As there be fair play, and his state not wrong'd.

Enter Shattillion.

Shat

I would be glad to know whence this new Duke springs, The people buz abroad; or by what title He receiv'd his dignity, 'tis very strange There should be such close jugling in the State, But I am ty'd to silence, yet a day May come, and soon to perfect all these doubts.

Wife.

It is the mad Shattillion by my Soul, I suffer much for this poor Gentleman; I'll speak to him, may be he yet knows me. Monsieur Shattilion.

Shat.

Can you give me reason from whence This great Duke sprang that walks abroad?

Wife.

Even from the King himself.

Shat.

As you are a Woman, I think you may be cover'd? Yet your prayer would do no harm good Woman.

Wife.

God preserve him.

Enter Shattillions Love.

Shat.

I say Amen, and so say all good Subjects.

Love.

Lady, as ever you have lov'd, or shall, As you have hope of heaven lend your hand, And wit, to draw this poor distracted man Under your roofe, from the broad eyes of people, And wonder of the streets.

Wife.

With all my heart; My feeling of his grief and loss is much.

Love.

Sir, now you are come so near the prison, will ye Goe in, and visit your fair Love: poor soul She would be glad to see you.

Shat.

This same Duke is but Apocryphal, there's no creation That can stand where titles are not right.

Lov.

'Tis true, Sir.

Shat.

This is another draught upon my life; Let me examine well the words I spake. The words I spake were, that this novel Duke Is not o'th' true making, 'tis to me most certain.

Wife.

You are as right, Sir, as you went by line.

Shat.

And to the grief of many thousands more.

Wife.

If there be any such, God comfort them.

Shat.

Whose mouths may open when the time shall please; I'm betray'd, commend me to the King, And tell him I am sound, and crave but justice; You shall not need to have your guard upon me, Which I am sure are plac'd for my attachment; Lead on; I'm obedient to my bonds.

Lov.

Good Sir be not displeased with us; We are but servants to his Highness will, To make that good.

Shat.

I do forgive you even with my heart; Shall I entreat a favor?

Wife.

Any thing.

Shat.

To see my love before that fatal stroak, And publish to the world my christian death, And true obedience to the Crown of France.

Lov.

I hope it shall not need Sir, for there is mercy As well as Justice in his Royal heart.

Exeunt.

Enter three Gentlemen.

1 Gent.

Every man take his corner, here am I, You there, and you in that place, so be perfect, Have a great care your cries be loud; and faces Full of dejected fear and humbleness. He comes.

Enter Jaques.

Ja.

Fye, how these streets are charg'd and swell'd With these same rascally people? give more room, Or I shall have occasion to distribute A martial almes amongst you; as I am a Gentleman I have not seen such rude disorder, They follow him like a prize, there's no true gaper Like to your Citizen, he will be sure The Beares shall not pass by his door in peace, But he and all his family will follow. Room there afore: Sound:

Enter Duke and his company.

Ja.

Give room, and keep your places, And you may see enough; keep your places.

Long.

These people are too far unmanner'd, thus To stop your Graces way with multitudes.

Du.

Rebuke them not, good Monsieur, 'tis their loves Which I will answer, if it please my stars To spare me life and health.

2 Gen.

Bless your Grace.

Du.

And you with all my heart.

1 Gen.

Now heaven preserve your happy dayes:

Du.

I thank you too.

3. Gen.

Now Heaven save your Grace;

Du.

I thank you all.

Bew.

On there before.

Du.

Stand Gentlemen, stay yet a while. For I am minded to impart my love To these good people, and my friends, Whose love and prayers for my greatness, Are equal in abundance, note me well, And with my words; my heart? for as the Tree—

Long.

Your Grace had best beware, 'twill be inform'd Your greatness with the people.

Duke.

I had more, My honest, and ingenious people.—But The weight of business hath prevented me. I am call'd from you: but this tree I spake of Shall bring forth fruit, I hope, to your content, And so I share my bowels amongst you all.

Omnes.

A noble Duke, a very noble Duke.

Enter a Gentleman.

Ser.

Afore there Gentlemen.

Gen.

You'r faithfully met good Monsieur Mount Marine.

Ser.

Be advis'd, the time is alter'd.

Gen.

Is he not the same man he was afore?

Duke.

Still the same man to you, Sir.

Long.

You have received mighty Grace, be thankful.

Gen.

Let me not dye in ignorance;

Long.

You shall not. Then know, the King out of his love, hath pleas'd To stile him Duke of Burgundy.

Gen.

O great Duke, Thus low, I plead for pardon, and desire To be enrol'd amongst your poorest slaves.

Du.

Sir, you have mercy, and withal my hand, From henceforth let me call you one of mine.

Ser.

Make room afore there, and dismiss the people.

Du.

Every Man to his house in peace and quiet.

Peop.

Now heaven preserve the Duke, heaven bless the Duke

Exeunt Omnes

Enter Wife.

Wife.

This Letter came this morn from my Cosin To the great Lady, high and mighty Duchess Of burgundy, be these delivered. Oh, For a stronger lace to keep my breath That I may laugh the nine days till the wonder Fall to an ebb: the high and mighty Duchess? The high and mighty God? what a stile is this? Methinks it goes like a Duchy lope-man, A ladder of 100 rounds will fail To reach the top on't: well my gentle Cosin I know by these contents, your itch of honor; You must to the Court you say, and very shortly: You shall be welcome; and if your wife have wit I'll put her in a thriving course, if not Her own sin on her own head not a blot Shall stain my reputation, only this I must for healths sake sometimes make an ass Of the tame moil my Husband; 'twill do him good, And give him fresher brains, Me fresher bloud. Now for the noble Duke, I hear him coming.

Enter Duke, his train.

Your Grace is well return'd.

Duke.

As well as may be: Never in younger health, never more able: I mean to be your bed-fellow this night, Let me have good encounter,

Bew.

Bless me heaven What a hot meat this greatness is?

Long.

It may be so, For I'll be sworn he hath not got a snap This two months on my knowledge, or her woman Is damn'd for swearing it

Duke.

I thank you Gentlemen for your attendance And also your great pains, pray know my Lodgings Petter and oftner, do so Gentlemen. Now by my honor, as I am a Prince, I speak sincerely, know my lodgings better, And be not strangers, I shall see your service And your deservings, when you least expect.

Om.

We humbly thank your grace for this great favor.

Du.

Jaques?

Jaq.

Your Grace.

Du.

Be ready for the Countrey, And let my Tenants know the Kings great love: Say I would see them, but the weight at Court Lies heavy on my shoulders: let them know I do expect their duties in attendance Against the next feast, wait for my coming To take up Post-horse, and be full of speed.

Exit Jaq.

Wife.

I would desire your Grace—

Du.

You shall desire, and have your F••ll desire: sweet Duchess speak.

Wife.

To have some conference with a Gentleman That seems not altogether void of reason. He talks of Titles, and things near the Crown, And knowing none so fit as your Grace, To give the difference in such points of State—

Du.

What is he? if he be noble, or have any part That's worthy our converse, we do accept him.

Wife.

I can assure your Grace, his strain is noble, But he's very subtle.

Duke.

Let him be so. Let him have all the brains, I shall demonstrate How this most Christian Crown of France can bear No other shew of Title than the Kings. •• will go in and meditate for half an hour, ••nd then be ready for him presently, •• will convert him quickly, or confound him.

Serv.

Is mad Shattillion here?

Wife.

Is here, and's Lady, I prethee servant fetch him hither.

Serv.

Why, what do you mean to put him to?

Wife.

To chat with the mad lad my Husband; 'Twill be brave to hear them speak, babble, Stare, and prate.

Bew.

But what shall be the end of all this, Lady?

Enter Shattillion and Lady.

Wife.

Leave that to me, now for the grand dispute, For see, here comes Shattillion: as I live, methi••ks All France should bear part of his griess.

Long.

I'll fetch my Lord the Duke.

Shat.

Where am I now, or whether will you lead me? To my death? I crave my priviledge, I must not dye, but by just course of Law.

Serv,

His Majesty hath sent by me your pardon, He meant not you should dye; but would intreat you To la•• the full state of your Title open, Unto a grave and Noble Gentleman.

Enter Duke and Longovile.

The Duke of Burgundy who here doth come, Who, either by his wisdom will confute you, Or else inform and satisfie the King.

Bew.

May't please your grace, this is the Gen••leman,

Duke.

Is this he that chops Logick with my Liege?

Shat.

D'ye mock me? you are great, the time will come, When you shall be as much contemn'd as I, Where are the antient compliments of France, The upstarts brave the Princes of the bloud?

Duke.

Your Title Sir, in short.

Shat.

He must Sir, Be a better States-man than your self, that can Trip me in any thing, I will not speak Before these witnesses.

Duke.

Depart the room, for none shall stay, No, not my dearest Duchess.

Wife.

We'll stand behind the Arras and hear all.

Exeunt.

Duke.

In that chair take your place, I in this, Discourse your Title now.

Shat.

Sir, you shall know, My Loves true Title, mine by Marriage, Setting aside the first race of French Kings, Which will not here concern us, as Pharamond, With Clodian, Meroveus, and Chilperick, And to come down unto the second Race, Which we will likewise slip—

Duke.

But take me with you.

Shat.

I pray you give me leave, of Martel Charles, The Father of King Pippin, who was, Sire To Charles the Great, and famous Charlemain. And to come to the third Race of French Kings, Which will not be greatly pertinent in this cause, Betwixt the King and me, of which you know HƲGH CAPET was the first, Next his Son Robert, Henry then, and Philip With Lewis, and his Son a Lewis too, And of that name the Seventh, but all this Springs from a Female, as it shall appear.

Duke.

Now give me leave, I grant you this your Title At the first sight, carries some shew of truth; But if ye weigh it well, ye shall find light. Is not his Majesty possest in peace, And justice executed in his name, And can you think the most Christian King Would do this if he saw not reason for it?

Shat.

But had not the Tenth Lewis a sole Daughter?

Duke.

I cannot tell.

Shat.

But answer me directly.

Duke.

It is a most seditious question.

Shat.

Is this your justice?

Duke.

I stand for my King.

Shat.

Was ever Heir-apparant thus abus'd? I'll have your head for this.

Duke.

Why, do your worst.

Shat.

Will no one stir to apprehend this Traitor? A guard about my person, will none come? Must my own royal hands perform the deed? Then thus I do arrest you.

Duke.

Treason, help.

Enter Wife, Long. Bew. and Serv.

Wife.

Help, help, my Lord and Husband.

Duke.

Help the Duke.

Long.

Forbear his grace's person.

Shat.

Forbear you to touch him that Your Heir-apparent weds, But by this hand, I will have all your heads.

Exit.

Serv.

How doth your Grace?

Duke.

Why? well.

Serv.

How do you find his Title?

Duke.

'Tis a dangerous one, As can come by a female.

Serv.

I, 'tis true, But the Law Salique cuts him off from all.

Long.

I do beseech your Grace, how stands his Title?

Duke.

Pew, nothing; the Law Salique cuts him off from all.

Wife.

My gracious Husband, you must now prepare, In all your Graces pomp to entertain Your Cosin, who is now a convertite, And follows here, this night he will be here.

Duke.

Be ready all in haste, I do intend, To shew before my Cosin's wondring face, The greatness of my pomp, and of my place.

Exeunt omnes.