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.

SCENA III.

Enter Octavio, Jacintha, and Ascanio.

Octa.

We cited to the Court!

A Bar, Table-book, 2 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and Paper, standish set 〈◊〉〈◊〉

Jac.

It is my wonder.

Octa.

But not our fear, Jacintha; wealthy men, That have Estates to lose; whose conscious thoughts Are full of inward guilt, may shake with horrour To have their Actions sifted, or appear Before the Judge. But we that know our selves As innocent, as poor, that have no Fleece On which the Talons of the griping Law Can take sure hold, may smile with scorn on all That can be urg'd against us.

Jac.

I am confident There is no man so covetous, that desires To ravish our wants from us, and less hope There can be so much Justice left on earth,

••ough seed, and call'd upon) to case us of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 burthen of our wrongs.

Octa.

What thinks Ascanio? ••hould we be call'd in question, or accus'd ••njustly, what would you do to redeem us ••rom tyrannous oppression?

Asc.

I could pray ••o him that ever has an open ear, ••o hear the innocent, and right their wrongs; ••ay, by my troth, I think I could out-plead ••n Advocate, and sweat as much as he Do's for a double Fee, ere you should suffer ••n an honest cause.

Enter Jamie and Bartolus.

Octa.

Happy simplicitie!

Jac.

My dearest and my best one, Don Jamie.

Octa.

And the Advocate, that caus'd us to be summon'd.

Asc.

My Lord is mov'd, I see it in his looks, And that man, in the Gown, in my opinion ••ooks like a proguing Knave.

Jac.

Peace, give them leave.

Jam.

Serve me with Process?

Bar.

My Lord, you are not lawless.

Jam.

Nor thou honest; One, that not long since was the buckram Scribe, That would run on mens errands for an Asper, And from such baseness, having rais'd a Stock To bribe the covetous Judge, call'd to the Bar. ••o poor in practice too, that you would plead A needy Clyents Cause, for a starv'd Hen, Or half a little Loin of Veal, though fly-blown, And these, the greatest Fees you could arrive at For just proceedings; but since you turn'd Rascal—

Bar.

Good words, my Lord.

Jam.

And grew my Brothers Bawd, ••n all his vitious courses, soothing him ••n his dishonest practises, you are grown The rich, and eminent Knave, in the Devils name, What am I cited for?

Bar.

You shall know anon, And then too late repent this bitter language, Or I'll miss of my ends.

Jam.

Were't not in Court, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 would beat that fat of thine, rais'd by the food Snatch'd from poor Clyents mouths, into a jelly: 〈◊〉〈◊〉 would (my man of Law) but I am patient, And would obey the Judge.

Bar.

'Tis your best course: Would every enemy I have would beat me, I would wish no better Action.

Octa.

'Save your Lordship.

Asc.

My humble service.

Jam.

My good Boy, how dost thou? Why art thou call'd into the Court?

Enter Assistant, Henrique, Officer, and Witnesses.

Asc.

I know not, But 'tis my Lord the Assistants pleasure I should attend here.

Jam.

He will soon resolve us.

Offi.

Make way there for the Judge.

Jam.

How? my kind Brother? Nay then 'tis rank: there is some villany towards.

Assist.

This Sessions purchas'd at your suit, Don Henrique, Hath brought us hither, to hear and determine Of what you can prefer.

Hen.

I do beseech The honourable Court, I may be heard In my Advocate.

Assist.

'Tis granted.

〈◊〉〈◊〉.

Humh, humh.

••am.

That Preface, If left out in a Lawyer, spoils the Cause, Though ne're so good, and honest

Bar.

If I stood here, To plead in the defence of an ill man, (Most equal judge) or to ••••••use the innocent (To both which, I profess my self a stranger) It would be requisite I should d ct my Language With Tropes and Figures, and all flourishes That grace a Rhetorician 'tis confess'd A iulterate Metals need the Gold-smiths Art, To set 'em off; what in it self is perfect Contemns a borrowed gloss: this Lord (my Client) Whose honest cause, when 'tis related truly, Will challenge justice, finding in his Conscience A tender scruple of a fault long since By him committed, thinks it not sufficient To be absolv'd of't by his Confessor, If that in open Court he publish not What was so long conceal'd.

Jam.

To what tends this?

Bar.

In his young years (it is no miracle That youth, and heat of blood, should mix together) He look'd upon this woman, on whose face The ruines yet remain, of excellent form, He look'd on her, and lov'd her.

Jac.

You good Angels, What an impudence is this?

Bar.

And us'd all means Of Service, Courtship, Presents, that might win her To be at his devotion: but in vain; Her Maiden Fort, impregnable held out, Until he promis'd Marriage; and before These Witnesses a solemn Contract pass'd To take her as his Wife.

Assist.

Give them their Oath.

Jam.

They are incompetent Witnesses, his own Creature, And will swear any thing for half a Royal.

Offi.

Silence.

Assist.

Proceed.

Bar.

Upon this strong assurance He did enjoy his wishes to the full, Which satisfied, and then with eyes of Judgement (Hood wink'd with Lust before) considering duly The inequality of the Match, he being Nobly descended, and allyed, but she Without a name, or Family, secretly He purchas'd a Divorce, to disanul His former Contract, Marrying openly The Lady Violante.

Jac.

As you sit here The Deputy of the great King, who is The Substitute of that impartial Judge, With whom, or wealth, or titles prevail nothing, Grant to a much wrong'd Widow, or a Wife Your patience, with liberty to speak In her own Cause, and let me face to face To this bad man, deliver what he is: And if my wrongs, with his ingratitude ballanc'd, Move not compassion, let me die unpitied; His Tears, his Oaths, his Perjuries, I pass o're; To think of them is a disease; but death Should I repeat them. I dare not deny, (For Innocence cannot justifie what's false) But all the Advocate hath alledged concerning His falshood, and my shame, in my consent, To be most true: But now I turn to thee, To thee Don Henrique, and if impious Acts Have left thee blood enough to make a blush, I'le paint it on thy cheeks. Was not the wrong Sufficient to defeat me of mine honour, To leave me full of sorrow, as of want, The witness of thy lust left in my womb, To testifie thy falshood, and my shame? But now so many years I had conceal'd Thy most inhumane wickedness, and won

This Gentleman, to hide it from the world, To Father what was thine (for yet by Heaven, ••hough in the City he pass'd for my husband, He never knew me as his wife.)

Assist.

'Tis strange: Give him an Oath.

O••••.

I gladly swear, and truly.

Ja••.

After all this (I say) when I had born These wrongs, with Saint-like patience, saw another Freely enjoy, what was (in Justice) mine, Yet still so tender of thy rest and quiet, I never would divulge it, to disturb Thy peace at home; yet thou most barbarous, To be so careless of me, and my fame, ••or all respect of thine in the first step To thy base lust, was lost) in open Court To publish my disgrace? and on record, To write me up an easie-yielding wanton? I think can find no precedent: In my extreams, One comfort yet is left, that though the Law Divorce me from thy bed, and made free way To the unjust embraces of another, It cannot yet deny that this thy Son (Look up Ascanio since it is come out) Is thy legitimate heir.

Jam.

Consederacie! A trick (my Lord) to cheat me; e're you give Your Sentence, grant me hearing.

Assist.

New Chimera's?

Jam.

I am (my Lord) since he is without Issue, Or hope of any, his undoubted heir, And this forg'd by the Advocate, to defeat me Of what the laws of Spain confer upon me, A mee•• Imposture, and conspiracie Against my future fortunes.

Assist.

You are too bold. Sp••ak to the cause Don Henrique.

Hen.

I confess, (Though the acknowledgment must wound mine honour,) That all the Court hath heard touching this Cause, (Or with me, or against me) is most true: The later part my Brother urg'd, excepted: For what I now doe, is not out of Spleen (As he pretends) but from remorse of conscience And to repair the wrong that I have done To this poor woman: And I beseech your Lordship To think I have not so ••ar lost my reason, To bring into my familie, to succeed me, The stranger—Issue of anothers Bed, By proof, this is my Son, I challenge him, Accept him, and acknowledge him, and desire By a definitive Sentence of the Court, He may be so recorded, and full power To me, to take him home.

Jac.

A second rape To the poor remnant of content that's left me, If this be granted: and all my former wrongs Were but beginnings to my miseries, But this the height of all: ••ather than part With my Ascan••o, I'le deny my oath, Profess my self a Strumpet, and endure What punishment soe're the Court decrees Against a wretch that hath for sworn her self, Or pla••'d the impu••ent whore.

Assist.

This tastes of passion, And that must not divert the course of Justice; Don He••••••••••e, take your Son, with this condition You give him maintenance, as becomes his birth, And 'twill stand with your honour to doe something ••or this wrong••d woman: I will compel nothing, But leave it to your will. Break up the Court: It is in va•••• to m•••••• me; my doom's pass'd, And cannot be revok'd

Exit.

Hen.

〈◊〉〈◊〉 your reward.

Bar.

More causes, and such Fees. Now to my Wi••e, I have too long been absent: Health to your Lordship

E••

Asc.

You all look strangely, and I fear believe This unexpected fortune makes me proud, Indeed it do's not: I shall ever pay you The duty of a son, and honour you Next to my Father: good my Lord, for yet I dare not call you, uncle, be not sad, I never shall forget those noble favours You did me being a stranger, and if ever I live to be the master of a fortune, You shall command it.

Jam.

Since it was determin'd I should be cozen'd, I am glad the profit Shall fall on thee, I am too tough to melt, But something I will do.

Hen.

'Pray you take leave Of your steward (gentle Brother) the good husband That takes up all for you.

Jam.

Very well, mock on, It is your turn: I may have mine—

Ex••

Oct.

But do not Forget us, dear Ascanio.

Asc.

Do not fear it, I every day will see you: every hour Remember you in my prayers.

Oct.

My grief's too great To be expressed in words—

Ex••

Hen.

Take that and leave us,

gives mony to sa••••••

Leave us without reply, nay come back sirrah And study to forget such things as these As are not worth the knowledge.

Asca. offers to fe••••••

Asc.

O good Sir, These are bad principles—

Hen.

Such as you must learn Now you are mine, for wealth and poverty Can hold no friendship: and what is my will You must observe and do, though good or ill.

Exe••••••