Monsieur Thomas A comedy. Acted at the Private House in Blacke Fryers. The author, Iohn Fletcher, Gent.

Scena Prima.

Enter Ʋalentine, Alice, and servant.

Val.

HE cannot goe and take no farewell of me, Can he be so vnkinde? he's but retir'd Into the Garden or the Orchard: see sirs.

Alice

He would not ride there certain, those were planted Onely for walkes I take it.

Val.

Ride, nay then, Had he horse out?

Ser.

So the Groome delivers Somewhat before the breake of day.

Val.

He's gone, My bestfriends gone Alice? I have lost the noblest,, The truest, and the most man I ere found yet.

Alice

Inded sir, he deserves all praise.

Ʋal.

All sister, All, all, and all too little: O that honesty, That ermine honesty, unspotted ever, That perfect goodnesse.

Alice

Sure he will returne sir, He cannot be so harsh.

Ʋal.

O never, never, Never returne, thou know'st not where the cause lyes.

Alice

He was the worthiest welcome.

Val.

He deserv'd it.

Alice

Nor wanted, to our knowledge.

Ʋal.

I will tell thee, Within this houre, things that shall startle thee. He never must returne.

Enter Michael.

Mich.

Good morrow Signieur.

Val.

Good morrow master Michael.

Mich.

My good neighbour, Me thinks you are stirring early since your travell, You have learn'd the rule of health sir, where's your mistres?

She keeps her warme I warrant ye, a bed yet?

Ʋal.

I thinke she do's.

Alice

T'is not her houre of waking.

Mich.

Did you lye with her Lady?

Alice

Not to night sir. Nor any night this weeke else.

Mich.

When last saw ye her?

Alice

Late yester night.

Mich.

Was she abed then?

Alice

No sir, I left her at her prayers: why doe ye aske me?

Mich.

I have been strangely haunted with a dreame All this long night, and after many wakings, The same dreame still; me thought I met yong Cellide Iust at S. Katherines gate the Nunnery.

Val.

Ha?

Mich.

Her face slubber'd o're with teares, and troubles, Me thought she cry'd unto the Lady Abbesse, For charity receive me holy woman, A Maid that has forgot the worlds affections, Into thy virgin order: me thought she tooke her, Put on a Stole, and sacred robe upon her, And there I left her.

Val.

Dreame?

Mich.

Good Mistresse Alice Doe me the favour (yet to satisfie me) To step but up, and see.

Alice

I know she's there sir, And all this but a dreame?

Mich.

You know not my dreames, They are unhappy ones, and often truths, But this I hope, yet

Alice

I will satisfie ye,

Exit.

Mich.

Neighbours, how do's the gentleman?

Val.

I know not, Dreame of a Nunnery?

Mich.

How found ye my words About the nature of his sicknesse Valentine?

Ʋal.

Did she not cry out, 'twas my folly too That forc'd her to this Nunnery? did she not curse me? For God sake speake: did you not dreame of me too, How basely, poorely, tamely, like a foole, Tir'd wi••h his joyes?

Mich.

Alas poore gentleman. Ye promis'd me sir to beare all these crosses.

Val.

I beare 'em till I breake againe.

Mich.

But nobly, Truely to weigh,

Val.

Good neighbours, no more of it, Ye doe but fling flaxe on my fire: where is she?

Enter Alice.

Alice

Not yonder sir, nor has not this night certaine Bin in her bed.

Mich.

It must be truth she tels ye, And now I'le shew ye why I came: this morning A man of mine being employed about businesse, Came early home, who at S. Katherines Nunnery, About day peep told me he met your Mistresse, And as I spoke it in a dreame, so troubled And so received by the ••bbesse, did he see her? The wonder made me rise, and haste unto ye To know the cause.

Val.

Farewell, I cannot speake it.

Exit Ʋal.

Alice

For heaven take leave him not.

Mich.

I will not Lady.

Alice

Alas, he's much afflicted,

Mich.

We shall know shortly more, apply your own care At home good Alice, a••d trust him to my counsell. Nay, doe not weep, all shall be well, despaire not.

Exeunt.