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 Quartus.

Scena Prima.

Enter Julio, and Angelo.

Jul.

'TIS strange thou should'st be thus, with thy discretion.

Ang.

I am sure I am so.

Jul.

I am well you see.

Ang.

Keep your self warm then, and go home, & sleep, And pray thou mayst continue so; Would I had gone to th' Devil of an arrant, When I was made a fool to see her; Leave me, I am not fit for conversation.

Jul.

Why, thou art worse than I was.

Ang.

Therefore leave me, The nature of my sickness is not eas'd By company or counsel, I am mad, And if you follow me with questions, Shall shew my self so.

Jul.

This is more than errour.

Ang.

'Pray be content, that you have made me thus, And do not wonder at me.

Jul.

Let me know, but what you mean to do, and I am gone. I would be loth to leave you thus else.

Ang.

Nothing That needs your fear, that is sufficient; Farewel, and pray for me.

Jul.

I would not leave you.

Ang.

You must, and shall.

Jul.

I will then, would yond' Woman Had been ten fathom under ground, when first I saw her eyes.

Ang.

Yet she had been dangerous, For to some wealthy Rock of precious stone, Or mine of Gold, as tempting, her fair Body Might have been turn'd, which once found out by labour, And brought to use, having her Spells within it, Might have corrupted States, and ruin'd Kingdoms, Which had been fearful, (Friend) go, when I see thee Next, I will be as thou art, or no more. 'Pray do not follow me, you'll make me angry.

Jul.

Heav'n grant you may be right again.

Ang.

Amen.

Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Enter Tavern-Boys, &c.

Boy.

Score a gallon of Sack, and a pint of Olives to the Unicorn.

Above, within.

Why drawer?

Boy.

Anon, anon.

Another Boy.

Look into the Nags head there.

2 Boy.

Score a quart of Claret to the Bar, And a pound of Sausages into the Flower-pot.

Enter first Servant with Wine.

1 Serv.

The Devil's in their throats; anon, anon.

Enter second Servant.

2 Ser.

Mull a pint of Sack there for the women in the Flower-deluce, and put in ginger enough, they belch like potguns, And Robin fetch Tobacco for the Peacock, they will not be Drunk till mid-night else: how now, how does my Master?

2 Boy.

Faith he lyes drawing on a pace.

1 Boy.

That's an ill sign.

2 Boy.

And fumbles with the pots too.

1 Boy.

Then there's no way but one with him.

2 Boy.

All the rest, Except the Captain, are in Limbo patrum, Where they lye sod in sack.

1 Boy.

Does he bear up still?

2 Boy.

Afore the wind still, with his lights up bravely, All he takes in I think he turns to Juleps, Or h'as a world of Stowage in his belly, The rest look all like fire-drakes, and lye scatter'd Like rushes round about the room. My Master Is now the loving'st man, I think, above ground.

1 Boy.

Would he were always drunk then.

Within.

Drawer.

2 Boy.

Anon, anon Sir.

1 Boy.

And swears I shall be free to morrow, and so weeps And calls upon my Mistris.

2 Boy.

Then he's right.

1 Boy.

And swears the Captain must lye this night with her And bad me break it to her with discretion, That he may leave an issue after him, Able to entertain a Dutch Ambassador, And tells him feelingly how sweet she is, And how he stole her from her friends i'th' Country; And brought her up disguiz'd with the Carriers, And was nine nights bereaving her her maidenhead, And the tenth got a drawer, here they come.

Enter Jacomo, Host, Lod. Piso.

Within cry drawer. Anon, anon, speak to the Tyger, Peter.

Host.

There's my Bells boys, my silver Bell.

Piso.

Would he were hang'd As high as I could ring him.

Host.

Captain.

Jac.

Hoe Boy.

Lod.

Robin, sufficient single Beer, as cold as crystal, Quench Robin, quench.

1 Boy.

I am gone Sir.

Host.

Shall we bear up still? Captain how I love thee! Sweet Captain let me kiss thee, by this hand I love thee next to Malmsey in a morning, Of all things transitory.

Jac.

I love thee too, as far as I can love a fat man.

Host.

Do'st thou Captain? Sweetly? and heartily?

Jac.

With all my heart Boy.

Host.

Then welcom death, come close mine eyes sweet Captain Thou shalt have all.

Jac.

What shall your wife have then?

Host.

Why she shall have besides my blessing, and a silver spoon, Enough to keep her stirring in the world, Three little Children, one of them was mine Upon my conscience, th' other two are Pagans.

Jac.

'Twere good she had a little foolish mony, To rub the time away with.

Host.

Not a rag, Not a Deniere, no, let her spin a Gods name: And raise her house again.

Jac.

Thou shalt not dye though: Boy see your Master safe delivered, He's ready to lye in.

Host.

Good night.

Jac.

Good morrow, Drink till the Cow come home, 'tis all pay'd boyes.

Lod.

A pox of Sack.

Host.

Marry bless my Buts, Sack is a jewel, 'Tis comfortable, Gentlemen.

Jac.

More Beer boy, Very sufficient single Beer.

Boy.

Here Sir. How is it Gentlemen?

Jac.

But ev'n so, so.

Host.

Go before finely Robin, and prepare My wife, bid her be right and streight, I come boy. And Sirrah, if they quarrel, let 'em use Their own discretions, by all means, and stir not, And he that's kill'd shall be as sweetly buried; Captain, adieu, adieu sweet bully Captain, One kiss before I dye, one kiss.

Jac.

Farewel Boy.

Host.

All my sweet boys farewel.

Exit Host.

Lod.

Go sleep, you are drunk.

Ja.

Come gentlemen, I'le see you at your lodging, You look not lustily, a quart more.

Lod.

No Boy.

Piso.

Get us a Torch.

Boy.

'Tis day Sir.

Jac.

That's all one.

Piso.

Are not those the stars, thou scurvy Boy?

Lod.

Is not Charles-wain there, tell me that, there?

Jac.

Yes; I have paid 'em truly: do not vex him Sirrah.

Piso.

Confess it Boy, or as I live I'le beat Mid-night into thy brains.

Boy.

I do confess it.

Piso.

Then live, and draw more small Beer presently.

Jac.

Come Boyes, let's hug together, and be loving, And sing, and do brave things cheerly my hearts, A pox o' being sad; now could I fly And turn the world about upon my finger, Come ye shall love me, I am an honest fellow: Hang care and fortune, we are friends.

Lod.

No Captain.

Jac.

Do not you love me? I love you two dearly.

Piso.

No by no means; you are a fighting Captain, And kill up such poor people as we are, by th' dozens.

Lod.

As they kill flyes with Fox-tails, Captain.

Jac.

Well Sir.

Lod.

Me thinks now as I stand, the Captain shews To be a very mercifull young man. (And pre'thee Piso, let me have thy opinion)

Piso.

Then he shall have mercy, that merciful is, Or all the Painters are Apocrypha.

Jac.

I am glad you have your wits yet, will ye go?

Piso.

You had best say we are drunk.

Jac.

Ye are.

Lod.

Ye lye.

Jac.

Y'are rascals, drunken rascals.

Piso.

'Tis sufficient.

Jac.

And now I'le tell you why, before I beat ye, You have been tampring any time these three days, Thus to disgrace me.

Piso.

That's a lye too.

Jac.

Well Sir, Yet I thank fate I have turn'd your points on you, For which I'le spare ye somewhat, half a beating.

Piso.

I'le make you fart fire Captain, by this hand, And ye provoke, do not provoke I'de wish you.

Jac.

How do you like this?

Lod.

Sure I am inchanted.

Piso.

Stay till I draw.

Jac.

Dispatch then, I am angry.

Piso.

And thou shalt see how suddenly I'll kill thee.

Jac.

Thou darst not draw, ye cold, tame, mangy Cowards, Ye drunken Rogues, can nothing make you valiant? Not wine, nor beating?

Lod.

If this may be suffer'd, 'Tis very well.

Jac.

Go there's your way, go and sleep: I have pity on you, you shall have the rest To morrow when we meet.

Piso.

Come Lodowick, He's monstrous drunk now, there's no talking with him.

Jac.

I am so; when I am sober, I'le do more.

Ex. Lod. and Piso.

Boy where's mine Host?

Boy.

He's on his bed asleep Sir.

Ex. Boy.

Jac.

Let him alone then: now am I high proof For any action, now could I fight bravely, And charge into a wild fire; or I could love Any man living now, or any woman, Or indeed any creature that loves Sack Extreamly, monstrously; I am so loving, Just at this instant, that I might be brought I feel it, with a little labour, now to talk With a Justice of peace, that to my nature I hate next an ill Sword: I will do Some strange brave thing now, and I have it here: Pray Heaven the air keep out; I feel it buzzing.

Exit.

SCENE III.

Enter Frederick, Frank, Clora.

Clora.

She loves him too much, that's the plain truth Frederick, For which if I might be believ'd, I think her A strange forgetter of her self; there's Julio, Or twenty more —

Fred.

In your eye I believe you, But credit me the Captain is a man, Lay but his rough affections by, as worthy.

Clora.

So is a resty Jade a horse of service, If he would leave his nature; give me one By your leave Sir to make a husband of Not to be wean'd, when I should marry him; Me thinks a man is misery enough.

Fred.

You are too bitter, I would not have him worse. Yet I shall see you hamper'd one day Lady, I do not doubt it, for this heresie.

Clo.

I'le burn before; come pre'thee leave this sadness; This walking by thy self to see the Devil, This mumps, this Lachrymae, this love in sippets; It sits thee like a French-hood.

Fra.

Does it so? I am sure it fits thee to be ever talking, And nothing to the purpose, take up quickly; Thy wit will founder of all four else wench, If thou hold'st this pace; take up when I bid thee.

Clora.

Before your Brother, fy?

Fred.

I can endure it.

Enter Jacomo.

Clo.

Here's Raw-head come again; Lord how he looks! Pray we 'scape with broken pates.

Fra.

Were I he, Thou should'st not want thy wish, he has been drinking, Has he not Frederick?

Fred.

Yes, but do not find it.

Clor.

Peace and let's hear his wisdom.

Fred.

You will mad him.

Jac.

I am somewhat bold, but that's all one.

Clor.

A short and pithy saying of a Souldier.

Fra.

A I live Thou art a strange mad wench.

Clor.

To make a Parson.

Jac.

Ladyes I mean to kiss ye.

Clora.

How he wipes his mouth like a young Preacher; We shall have it.

Jac.

In order as you lye before me; first I'le begin with you.

Fra.

With me Sir?

Jac.

Yes.

Fra.

If you will promise me to kiss in ease, I care not if I venture.

Jac.

I will kiss according to mine own inventions As I shall see cause; sweetly I would wish you, I love ye.

Fra.

Do you Sir?

Jac.

Yes indeed do I, Would I could tell you how.

Fra.

I would you would Sir.

Jac.

I would to Heaven I could, but 'tis sufficient, I love you with my heart.

Fra.

Alas poor heart.

Jac.

And I am sorry; but we'l talk of that Hereafter, if it please Heaven.

Fra.

Ev'n when you will Sir.

Clor.

He's dismal drunk, would he were muzled.

Jac.

You I take it are the next.

Fra.

Go to him fool.

Clor.

Not I, he will bite me.

Jac.

When wit? when?

Clor.

Good Captain.

Jac.

Nay, and you play bo peep; I'le ha' no mercy But catch as catch may.

Fred.

Nay, I'le not defend ye.

Clor.

Good Captain do not hurt me, I am sorry That e're I anger'd ye.

Jac.

I'le tew you for't By this hand wit, unless you kiss discreetly.

Clor.

No more Sir.

Jac.

Yes a little more sweet wit, One tast more o' your office: go thy wayes With thy small kettle Drums; upon my conscience Thou art the best, that e're man laid his leg o'er.

Clor.

He smells just like a Cellar, Fye upon him.

Jac.

Sweet Lady now to you.

Clor.

For loves sake kiss him.

Fred.

I shall not keep my countenance.

Fra.

Trye pre'thee.

Jac.

Pray be not coy sweet woman, for I'le kiss ye, I am blunt But you must pardon me.

Clor.

O God, my sides.

All.

Ha, ha, ha, ha.

Jac.

Why ha, ha, ha? why laugh? Why all this noise sweet Ladyes?

Clor.

Lusty Laurence, See what a Gentlewoman you have saluted; Pray God she prove not quick.

Fred.

Where were thine eyes To take me for a woman? ha, ha, ha.

Jac.

Who art'a, art'a mortal?

Fred.

I am Frederick

Jac.

Then Frederick is an Asse, A scurvy Frederick to laugh at me.

Fra.

Sweet Captain.

Jac.

Away woman; Go stitch and serve, I despise thee woman, And Frederick shall be beaten; 'Sfut ye Rogue Have you none else to make your puppies of, but me?

Fred.

I pre'thee be more patient There's no hurt done.

Jac.

'Sfut but there shall be, Scab.

Clor.

Help, help for loves sake.

Fra.

Who's within there?

Fred.

So now you have made a fair hand.

Jac.

Why?

Fred.

You have kill'd me—

Fall as kill'd.

Clor.

Call in some Officers, and stay the Captain.

Jac.

You shall not need.

Clor.

This is your drunkenness.

Fra.

O me, unhappy Brother, Frederick, Look but upon me, do not part so from me, Set him a little higher, he is dead.

Clora.

O villain, villain.

Enter Fabritio, and Servants.

Fab.

How now what's the matter?

Fra.

O Sir my Brother! O my dearest Brother!

Clor.

This drunken trowgh has kill'd him.

Fab.

Kill'd him?

Clor.

Yes. For Heavens sake hang him quickly, he will do Ev'ry day such a murder else, there is nothing But a strong Gallows that can make him quiet, I finde it in his nature too late.

Fab.

Pray be quiet, Let me come to him.

Clor.

Some go for a Surgeon.

Fra.

O what a wretched woman has he made me! Let me alone good Sir.

Fab.

To what a fortune, Hast thou reserv'd thy life!

Ja.

Fabritio.

Fab.

Never entreat me, for I will not know thee, Nor utter one word for thee, unless it be To have thee hang'd; for Heaven sake be more temperate.

Jac.

I have a sword still, and I am a villain.

Clor.

&c. Hold, hold, hold.

Jac.

Ha?

Clor.

Away with him for Heavens sake He's too desperate for our enduring.

Fab.

Come, you shall sleep, come strive not I'le have it so, here take him to his lodging, and See him laid before you part.

Exeunt Jac. with Ser.

Serv.

We will Sir.

Fred.

Ne're wonder, I am living yet, and well, I thank you Sister for your grief, pray keep it Till I am fitter for it.

Fab.

Do you live Sir?

Fred.

Yes, but 'twas time to counterfeit, he was grown To such a madness in his wine.

Fab.

'Twas well Sir, You had that good respect unto his temper, That no worse follow'd.

Fred.

If I had stood him, certain one of us must have perish'd. How now Frank?

Fra.

Beshrew my heart I tremble like an aspin.

Clor.

Let him come here no more for Heavens sake Unless he be in chains.

Fra.

I would fain see him After he has slept, Fabritio, but to try How he will be; chide him, and bring him back.

Clor.

You'l never leave till you be worried with him.

Fra.

Come Brother, we'l walk in, and laugh a little To get this Fever off me.

C or.

Hang him squib, Now could I grind him into priming powder.

Fra.

Pray will you leave your fooling?

Fab.

Come, all friends.

Fra.

Thou art enough to make an age of men so, Thou art so cross and peevish.

Fab.

I will chide him, And if he be not graceless, make him cry for't.

Clor.

I would go a mile (to see him cry) in slippers He would look so like a whey cheese.

Fra.

Would we might see him once more.

Fab.

If you dare Venture a second tryal of his temper I make no doubt to bring him.

Clor.

No, good Frank, Let him alone, I see his vein lyes only For falling out at Wakes and Bear-baitings, That may express him sturdy.

Fab.

Now indeed You are too sharp sweet Sister, for unless It be this sin, which is enough to drown him, I mean this sowrness, he's as brave a fellow, As forward, and as understanding else As any he that lives.

Fra.

I do believe you, And good Sir when you see him, if we have Distasted his opinion any way, Make peace again.

Fab.

I will: I'le leave ye Ladies.

Clor.

Take heed you had best, h'as sworn to pay you else.

Fab.

I warrant you, I have been often threatned.

Clor.

When he comes next, I'le have the cough or toothach, Or something that shall make me keep my chamber, I love him so well.

Fra.

Would you would keep your tongue.

Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

Enter Angelo.

Ang.

I cannot keep from this ungodly woman, This Lelia, whom I know too, yet am caught, Her looks are nothing like her; would her faults Were all in Paris print upon her face, Cum Privilegio, to use 'em still, I would write an Epistle before it, on the inside of her masque And dedicate it to the whore of Babylon, with a preface upon Her nose to the gentle Reader; and they should be to be sold At the sign of the whores head i'th' pottage pot, in what Street you please. But all this helps not me; — I Am made to be thus catch'd, past any redress, with a thing I contemn too. I have read Epict••tus twice over against the Desire of these outward things, and still her face runs in My mind, I went to say my prayers, and they were So laid out o'th' way, that if I could find any prayers I Had, I'm no Christian, This is the door, and the short Is, I must see her again.—

He knocks.

Enter Maid.

Maid.

Who's there?

Ang.

'Tis I, I would speak with your Mistriss.

Maid.

Did she send for you?

Ang.

No, what then? I would see her, prethee by thy leave.

Maid.

Not by my leave; for she will not see you, but doth hate you, and Your friend, and doth wish you both hang'd, which being so proper Men, is great pity, that you are not.

Ang.

How's this?

Maid.

For your sweet self in particular, who she resolves perswaded your Friend to neglect her, she deemeth whip-cord the most Convenient unction for your back and shoulders.

Ang.

Let me in, I'le satisfie her.

Ma.

And if it shall happen that you are in doubt of these my speeches, Insomuch 〈◊〉〈◊〉 you shall spend more time in arguing at the Door, I am fully perswaded that my Mistris in person from Above, will utter her mind more at large by way of Urine upon your head, that it may sink the more soundly Into your understanding faculties.

Ang.

This is the strangest thing, good pretty soul, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 dost thou use me so? I pray thee let me in sweet-heart.

Maid.

Indeed I cannot sweet-heart.

Ang.

Thou art a handsom one, and this crosseness do's not become thee.

Maid.

Alas I cannot help it.

Ang.

Especially to me; thou knowst when I was here, I said I lik'd thee of All thy Mistriss Servants.

Maid.

So did I you, though it be not my fortune to express It at this present: for truly if you would cry, I cannot Let you in.

Ang.

Pox on her, I must go the down-right way: look you Here is ten pound for you, let me speak with her.

Maid.

I like your gold well, but it is a thing by heaven I cannot do, she Will not speak with you, especially at this time, she has affairs.

Ang.

This makes her leave her jesting yet, but take it And let me see her, bring me to a place Where undiscerned of her self I may

Feed my desiring eyes but half an hour.

Maid.

Why faith I think I can, and I will stretch my wits And body too for gold: if you will swear as you Are gentle, not to stir, or speak, where you shall See or hear, now, or hereafter: give me your gold, I'le plant you.

Ang.

Why, as I am a Gentleman, I will not.

Maid.

Enough, quick, follow me.

Ex. Angelo, and Maid.

Enter Servant.

S.

Why where's this maid, she has much care of her business, Nell? I think she be sunk; — why Nell—whiew—

Maid within.

What's the matter?

Enter Maid.

Ser.

I pray you heartily come away, oh, come, come, the Gentleman My Mistris invited, is coming down the street, and the banquet Not yet brought out?—

They bring in the Banquet.

Lel. within.

Nell, Sirrah.

Maid.

I come forsooth.

Ser.

Now must I walk: when there's any fleshly matters in hand, my Mistris sends me of a four hours errand: but if I go not About mine own bodily business as well as she, I am a Turk.

Exit Servant.

Enter Father.

Fa.

What, all wide open? 'Tis the way to sin Doubtless; but I must on; the gates of Hell Are not more passable than these; how they Will be to get out, God knows, I must try. 'Tis very strange, if there be any life Within this house, would it would shew it self. What's here? a Banquet? and no mouth to eat, Or bid me do it? this is something like The entertainment of adventurous Knights Entring enchanted Castles: For the manner Though there be nothing dismal to be seen Amazes me a little; what is meant By this strange invitation? I will sound My Daughters meaning e're I speak to her, If it be possible, for by my voyce —

Musique.

She will discover me! hark, whence is this.

The SONG.

COme hither you that love, and hear me sing of joyes still growing Green, fresh, and lusty, as the pride of Spring, and over blowing. Come hither youths that blush, and dare not know what is desire, And old men worse than you, that cannot blow one spark of fire. And with the power of my enchanting Song, Boyes shall be able men, and old men young.

Enter Angelo, above.

Come hither you that hope, and you that cry, leave off complaining, Youth, strength, and beauty, that shall never dye, are here remaining. Come hither fools, and blush, you stay so long from being blest, And mad men worse than you, that suffer wrong, Yet seek no rest. And in an hour, with my enchanting Song, You shall be ever pleas'd, and young maids long.

Enter Lelia, and her Maid with a Night-gown and Slippers.

Lel.

Sir you are welcom hither, as this kiss Given with a larger freedom than the use Of strangers will admit, shall witness to you. Put the gown on him, in this chair sit down; Give him his slippers: be not so amaz'd, Here's to your health, and you shall feel this wine Stir lively in me, in the dead of night, Give him some wine; fall to your banquet Sir, And let us grow in mirth; though I am set Now thus far off you, yet four glasses hence I will sit here, And try, till both our bloods Shoot up and down to find a passage out, Then mouth to mouth will we walk up to bed, And undress one another as we go; Where both my treasure, body, and my soul Are your's to be dispos'd of.

Fa.

Umh, umh. — Makes signs of his white head & heard.

Lel.

You are old, Is that your meaning? why, you are to me The greater novelty, all our fresh youth Are daily offer'd me, though you perform As you think little, yet you satisfie My appetite: from your experience I may learn something in the way of lust I may be better for. But I can teach These young ones; But this day I did refuse A paire of 'em, Julio, and Angelo, And told them they were as they were Raw fools and whelps.a 1.1

Maid.

Pray God he speak not.b 1.2

Lel.

Why speak you not sweet sir?

Fath.

Umh.—

Stops his ears, shews he is troubled with the Musick

Lel.

Peace there, that musique, now Sir speak To me.

Fath.

Umh. —

Points at the Maid.

Lel.

Why? would you have her gone? you need not keep Your freedom in for her; she knows my life That she might write it; Think she is a stone. She is a kind of bawdy Confessor, And will not utter secrets.

Fath.

Umh. —

Points at her again.

Lel.

Be gone then, since he needs will have it so, 'Tis all one.

Exit Maid.— Fath. locks the door.

Is all now as you would? come meet me then, And bring a thousand kisses on thy lips, And I will rob thee of 'em, and yet leave Thy lips as wealthy as they were before.

Fath.

Yes, all is as I would but thou.

Lel.

By Heaven 'tis my Father.—

Starts.

Fath.

And I do beseech thee Leave these unheard of lusts which worse become thee, Than mocking of thy Father; let thine eyes Reflect upon thy soul, and there behold How loathed black it is; and whereas now Thy face is heavenly fair, but thy mind foul, Go but into thy Closet, and there cry Till thou hast spoil'd that face, and thou shalt find How excellent a change thou wilt have made For inward beauty.

Lel.

Though I know him now To be my Father, never let me live If my lust do abate, I'le take upon me To have known him all this while.

Fath.

Look, dost thou know me?

Lel.

I knew ye Sir before.

Fath.

VVhat didst thou do?

Lel.

Knew you, and so unmov'dly have you born All the sad crosses that I laid upon you, VVith such a noble temper, which indeed I purposely cast on you, to discern Your carriage in calamity, and you Have undergone 'em with that brave contempt, That I have turn'd the reverence of a child

Into the hot affection of a Lover. Nor can there on the earth be found but yours A spirit fit to meet with mine.

Fath.

A woman? thou art not sure.

Lel.

Look and believe.

Fath.

Thou art Something created to succeed the Devil When he grows weary of his envious course, And compassing the World; but I believe thee Thou didst but mean to try my patience, And dost so still; but better be advis'd, And make thy tryal with some other things, That safelier will admit a dalliance; And if it should be earnest, understand How curst thou art, so far from Heaven, That thou believ'st it not enough to damn alone, Or with a stranger, but wouldst heap all sins Unnatural upon this aged head, And draw thy Father to thy Bed, and Hell.

Lel.

You are deceiv'd, Sir, 'tis not against nature For us to lye together; if you have An Arrow of the same Tree with your Bow, Is't more unnatural to shoot it there Than in another? 'Tis our general nature To procreate, as fire is to consume, And it will trouble you to find a stick The fire will turn from; If't be Natures will We should not mix, she will discover to us Some most apparent crossness, as our organs Will not be fit; which, if we do perceive, We'll leave, and think it is her pleasure That we should deal with others.

Fath.

The doors are fast, thou shalt not say a Prayer, 'Tis not Heavens will thou shouldst, when this is done I'll kill my self, that never man may tell me I got thee.

Father draws his Sword, Angelo discovers himself.

Lel.

I pray you, Sir, help her, for Heavens sake, Sir.

Ang.

Hold, Reverend Sir, for honour of your Age.

Fath.

Who's that?

Ang.

For safety of your Soul, and of the Soul Of that too-wicked woman yet to dye.

Fath.

What art thou? and how cam'st thou to that place?

Ang.

I am a man so strangely hither come, That I have broke an Oath in speaking this, But I believe 'twas better broke than kept, And I desire your patience; let me in, And I protest I will not hinder you In any act you wish, more than by word, If so I can perswade you, that I will not Use violence, I'll throw my Sword down to you; This house holds none but I, only a maid Whom I will lock fast in as I come down.

Fath.

I do not know thee, but thy tongue doth seem To be acquainted with the truth so well, That I will let thee in; throw down thy Sword.

Ang.

There 'tis.

Lel.

How came he there? I am betray'd to shame, The fear of sudden death struck me all over So violently, that I scarce have breath

He lets in Angelo, and locks the Door.

To speak yet; but I have it in my head, And out it shall, that (Father) may perhaps O'r-reach you yet.

Enter Father, and Angelo.

Fath.

Come, Sir, what is't you say?

Lel.

My Angelo, by all the joys of love, Thou art as welcome as these pliant arms Twin'd round, and fast about thee, can perswade thee.

Ang.

Away.

Lel.

I was in such a fright before thou cam'st, Yond' old mad fellow (it will make thee laugh, Though it feared me) has talkt so wildly here— Sirrah, he rush'd in at my doors, and swore He was my Father, and I think believ'd it; But that he had a Sword, and threatned me— I' faith he was good sport, good, thrust him out, That thou and I may kiss together; wilt thou?

Fath.

Are you her Champion? and with these fair words Got in to rescue her from me?

Offers to run at him.

Ang.

Hold, Sir, I swear I do not harbour such a thought, I speak it not, for that you have two Swords, But for 'tis truth.

Lel.

Two Swords, my Angelo? Think this, that thou hast two young brawny arms And ne'r a Sword, and he has two good Swords, And ne'r an arm to use 'em; rush upon him, I could have beaten him with this weak Body, If I had had the spirit of a man.

Ang.

Stand from me, and leave talking, or, by Heaven, I'll trample thy last damning word out of thee.

Fath.

Why do you hinder me then? stand away, And I will rid her quickly.

Lel.

Would I were Clear of this business, yet I cannot pray.

Ang.

Oh, be advis'd, why you were better kill her If she were good; convey her from this place, Where none but you, and such as you appoint, May visit her; where, let her hear of nought But death and damning, which she hath deserv'd, Till she be truly, justly sorrowful, And then lay mercy to her, who does know But she may mend?

Fath.

But whither should I bear her?

Ang.

To my house, 'Tis large, and private, I will lend it you.

Fath.

I thank you, Sir, and happily it fits With some design I have: but how shall we Convey her?

Lel.

Will they carry me away?

Fath.

For she will scratch and kick, and scream so loud That people will be drawn to rescue her.

Ang.

Why? none can hear her here but her own maid, Who is as fast as she.

Fath.

But in the street?

Ang.

Why, we will take 'em both into the Kitchen, There bind 'em, and then gag 'em, and then throw 'em Into a Coach I'll bring to the back-door, And hurry 'em away.

Fath.

It shall be so, I owe you much for this, and I may pay you, There is your Sword, lay hold upon her quickly, This way with me, thou disobedient Child, Why does thy stubborn heart beat at thy breast? Let it be still, for I will have it search'd Till I have found a Well of living tears Within it, that shall spring out of thine eyes, And flow all o'r thy Body foul'd with sin, Till it have wash'd it quite without a stain.

They drag her.

Lel.

Help, help, ah! ah! Murther, I shall be murthered, I shall be murthered.

Fath.

This helps thee not.

Lel.

Basely murthered, basely.

Fath.

I warrant you.

Exeunt.

Notes

• a 1.1

  Ang. makes discontented signs.
• b 1.2

  Maid laies her finger cross her mouth to him.