Beaumont and Fletcher's Works, Vol. 07 of 10

by Francis Beaumont; John Fletcher

The Scene Sevil.

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A PROLOGUE
At the reviving of this PLAY.

STatues and Pictures challenge price and fame;
If they can justly boast, and prove they came
From Phidias or Apelles. None denie,
Poets and Painters hold a sympathy;
Yet their works may decay, and lose their grace,
Receiving blemish in their Limbs or Face.
When the Minds Art has this preheminence,
She still retaineth her first excellence.
Then why should not this dear Piece be esteem'd
Child to the richest fancies that e'r teem'd?
When not their meanest off-spring, that came forth,
But bore the image of their Fathers worth.
Beaumonts, and Fletchers, whose desert out-wayes
The best applause, and their least sprig of B[a]yes
Is worthy Phæbus; and who comes to gather
Their fruits of wit, he shall not rob the treasure.
Nor can you ever surfeit of the plenty,
Nor can you call them rare, though they be dainty.
The more you take, the more you do them right,
And we will thank you for your own delight.

---

Actus Primus. Scæna Prima.

Enter Vitelli, Lamoral, Anastro.

Vit. ALvarez pardon'd?

Ana. And return'd

Lamo. I saw him land
At St. Lucars, and such a general welcome,
Fame as harbinger to his brave actions,
Had with the easie people, prepar'd for him,
As if by his command alone, and fortune
Holland, with those low Provinces, that hold out
Against the Arch-Duke, were again compell'd
With their obedience to give up their lives
To be at his Devotion.

Vit. You amaze me,
For though I have heard, that when he fled from Sevil
To save his life (th[e]n forfeited to Law
For murth'ring Don Pedro my dear Uncle)
His extream wants enforc'd him to take pay
I'th' Army, sate down then before Ostend,
'Twas never yet reported, by whose favour
He durst presume to entertain a thought
Of coming home with pardon.

Ana. 'Tis our nature
Or not to hear, or not to give belief
To what we wish far from our enemies.

Lam. Sir, 'tis most certain, the Infanta's Letters
Assisted by the Arch-Dukes, to King Philip,
Have not alone secur'd him from the rigor
Of our Castilian Justice, but return'd him
A free man and in grace.

Vi[t]. By what curs'd means
Could such a fugitive arise unto
The knowledge of their Highnesses? much more
(Though known) to stand but in the least degree
Of favour with them?

Lam. To give satisfaction
To your demand, though to praise him I hate,
Can yield me small contentment, I will tell you,
And truly, since should I detract his worth,
'Twould argue want of merit in my self.
Briefly to pass his tedious pilgrimage
For sixteen years, a banish'd guilty man,
And to forget the storms, th' affrights, the horrors
His constancy, not fortune, overcame,
I bring him, with his little son, grown man
(Though 'twas said here, he took a Daughter with him)
To Ostend's bloody siege that stage of war,
Wherein the flower of many Nations acted,
And the whole Christian world spectators were;
There by his Son, or were he by adoption,
Or nature his, a brave Scene was presented,
Which I make choice to speak of, since from that
The good success of Alvarez, had beginning.

Vi[t]. So I love virtue in an enemy
That I desire in the relation of
This young mans glorious deed, you'ld keep your self
A friend to truth, and it.

Lam. Such was my purpose;
The Town being oft assaulted, but in vain,
To dare the proud defendents to a sally,
Weary of ease, Don Inigo Peralta,
Son to the General of our Castile forces,
All arm'd, advanc'd within shot of their Walls,
From whence the Musquetiers plaid thick upon him,
Yet he (brave youth) as careless of the danger,
As careful of his honor, drew his sword,
And waving it about his head, as if
He dar'd one spirited like himself, to trial
Of single valor, he made his retreat
With such a slow, and yet majestique pace,
As if he still call'd loud, dare none come on?
When sodainly, from a postern of the Town
Two gallant horsemen issued, and o'ertook him,
The Army looking on, yet not a man
That durst relieve the rash adventurer,
Which Lucio, son to Alvarez then seeing,
As in the Vant-guard he sate bravely mounted,
Or were it pity of the youths misfortune,
Care to preserve the honor of his Countrey,
Or bold desire to get himself a name,
He made his brave Horse like a whirlwind bear him,
Among the Combatants: and in a moment
Discharg'd his Petronel, with such sure aim
That of the adverse party from his horse,
One tumbled dead, then wheeling round, and drawing
A Faulcion, swift as lightning he came on
Upon the other, and with one strong blow,
In view of the amazed Town, and Camp,
He struck him dead, and brought Peralta off
With double honor to himself.

Vit. 'Twas brave:
But the success of this?

Lam. The Camp receiv'd him
With acclamations of joy and welcome,
And for addition to the fair reward
Being a massy chain of Gold given to him
By young Peralta's Father, he was brought
To the Infanta's presence, kiss'd her hand,
And from that Lady, (greater in her goodness
Than her high birth) had this encouragement:
Go on young man; yet not to feed thy valour
With hope of recompence to come, from me,
For present satisfaction of what's past,
Ask any thing that's fit for me to give,
And thee to take, and be assur'd of it.

Ana. Excellent Princess.

Vit. And stil'd worthily
The heart-bloud, nay the Soul of Soldiers.
But what was his request?

Lam. That the repeal
Of Alvarez makes plain: he humbly begg'd
His Fathers pardon, and so movingly
Told the sad story of your Uncles death
That the Infanta wept, and instantly
Granting his suit, working the Arch-Duke to it,
Their Letters were directed to the King,
With whom they so prevail'd, that Alvarez
Was freely pardon'd.

Vit. 'Tis not in the King
To make that good.

Ana. Not in the King? what subject
Dares contradict his power?

Vit. In this I dare,
And will: and not call his prerogative
In question, nor presume to limit it.
I know he is [the] Master of his Laws,
And may forgive the forfeits made to them,
But not the injury done to my honor;
And since (forgetting my brave Uncles merits
And many services, under Duke D' Alva)
He suffers him to fall, wresting from Justice
The powerful sword, that would revenge his death,
I'll fill with this Astrea's empty hand,
And in my just wreak, make this arm the Kings,
My deadly hate to Alvarez, and his house,
Which as I grew in years, hath still encreas'd,
As if it call'd on time to make me man,
Slept while it had no object for her fury
But a weak woman, and her talk'd of Daughter:
But now, since there are quarries, worth her sight
Both in the father, and his hopeful son,
I'll boldly cast her off, and gorge her full
With both their hearts: to further which, your friendship,
And oaths: will your assistance, let your deeds
Make answer to me: useless are all words
Till you have writ performance with your swords.

[Exeunt.

Scæna Secunda.

Enter Bobadilla and Lucio.

Luc. Go fetch my work: this Ruffe was not well starch'd,
So tell the maid, 't has too much blew in it,
And look you that the Partridge and the Pullen
Have clean meat, and fresh water, or my Mother
Is like to hear on't.

Bob. Oh good St. Jaques help me: was there ever such
an Hermaphrodite heard of? would any wench living, that
should hear and see what I do, be wrought to believe, that
the best of a man lies under this Petticoat, and that a Codpiece
were far fitter here, than a Pinn'd Placket?

Luc. You had best talk filthily: do; I have a tongue
To tell my Mother, as well as ears to hear
Your ribaldry.

Bob. Nay you have ten womens tongues that way I am
sure: why my young Master or Mistriss, Madam, Don, or
what you will, what the devil have you to do with Pullen,
or Partridge? or to sit pricking on a clout all day? you have
a better needle, I know, and might make better work, if you
had grace to use it.

Luc. Why, how dare you speak this before me, sirrah?

Bob. Nay rather, why dare not you do what I speak?—though
my Lady your mother, for fear of Vitelli and his
faction, hath brought you up like her Daughter, and has kept
you these 20 years, which is ever since you were born, a close
prisoner within doors, yet since you are a man, and are as
well provided as other men are, methinks you should have
the same motions of the flesh, as other Cavaliers of us are
inclin'd unto.

Luc. Indeed you have cause to love those wanton motions,
They having hope you to an excellent whipping,
For doing something, I but put you in mind of it,
With the Indian Maid, the Governor sent my mother
From Mexico.

Bob. Why, I but taught her a Spanish trick in charity, and holpe the King to a subject that may live to take Grave Maurice prisoner, and that was more good to the State, than a thousand such as you are ever like to doe: and I will tell you, (in a fatherly care of the Infant I speak it) if he live (as bless the babe, in passion I remember him) to your years, shall he spend his time in pinning, painting, purling, and perfuming as you do? no, he shall to the wars, use his Spanish Pike, though with the danger of the lash, as his father has done, and when he is provoked, as I am now, draw his Toledo desperately, as—

Luc. You will not kill me? oh.

Bob. I knew this would silence him: how he hides his eies!
If he were a wench now, as he seems, what an advantage
Had I, drawing two Toledo's, when one can do this!
But oh me, my Lady: I must put up: young Master
I did but jest: Oh custom, what hast thou made of him?

Enter Eugenia and Servants.

Eug. For bringing this, be still my friend; no more
A servant to me.

Bo. What's the matter?

Eug. Here,
Even here, where I am happy to receive
Assurance of my Alvarez return,
I will kneel down: and may those holy thoughts
That now possess me wholly, make this place
A Temple to me, where I may give thanks
For this unhop'd for blessing Heavens kind hand
Hath pour'd upon me.

Luc. Let my duty Madam
Presume, if you have cause of joy, to intreat
I may share in it.

Bob. 'Tis well, he has forgot how I frighted him yet.

Eug. Thou shalt: but first kneel with me Lucio,
No more Posthumia now, thou hast a Father,
A Father living to take off that name,
Which my too credulous fears, that he was dead,
Bestow'd upon thee: thou shalt see him Lucio
And make him young again, by seeing thee,
Who only hadst a being in my Womb
When he went from me, Lucio: Oh my joyes,
So far transport me, that I must forget
The ornaments of Matrons, modesty,
And grave behaviour; but let all forgive me
If in th' expression of my soul's best comfort
Though old, I do a while forget mine age
And play the wanton in the entertainment
Of those delights I have so long despair'd of.

Luc. Shall I then see my Father?

Eug. This hour Lucio;
Which reckon the beginning of thy life
I mean that life, in which thou shalt appear
To be such as I brought thee forth, a man,
This womanish disguise, in which I have
So long conceal'd thee, thou shalt now cast off,
And change those qualities thou didst learn from me,
For masculine virtues, for which seek no tutor,
But let thy fathers actions be thy precepts;
And for thee Zancho, now expect reward
For thy true service.

Bob. Shall I? you hear fellow Stephano, learn to know
me more respectively; how dost thou think I shall become
the Stewards chair, ha? will not these slender hanches show
well with a chain, and a gold night-Cap after supper, when
I take the accompts?

Eug. Haste, and take down those Blacks with which my chamber
Hath like the widow, her sad Mistriss mourn'd,
And hang up for it, the rich Persian Arras,
Us'd on my wedding night, for this to me
Shall be a second marriage: send for Musique,
And will the Cooks to use their best of cunning
To please the palat.

Bob. Will your Ladyship have a Potato-pie, 'tis a good
stirring dish for an old Lady, after a long Lent.

Eug. Begone I say: why Sir, you can goe faster?

Bob. I could Madam: but I am now to practise the
Stewards pace, that's the reward I look for: every man must
fashion his gate, according to his calling: you fellow Stephano,
may walk faster, to overtake preferment: so, usher me.

Luc. Pray Madam, let the wastcoat I last wrought
Be made up for my Father: I will have
A Cap, and Boot-hose sutable to it.

Eug. Of that
We'll think hereafter Lucio: our thoughts now
Must have no object but thy Fathers welcome,
To which thy help—

Luc. With humble gladness, Madam. [Exeunt.

Scæna Tertia.

Enter Alvarez, Clara.

Alv. Where lost we Syavedra?

Cla. He was met
Ent'ring the City by some Gentlemen
Kinsmen, as he said of his own, with whom
For compliment sake (for so I think he term'd it)
He was compell'd to stay: though I much wonder
A man that knows to do, and has done well
In the head of his troop, when the bold foe charg'd home,
Can learn so sodainly to abuse his time
In apish entertainment: for my part
(By all the glorious rewards of war)
I had rather meet ten enemies in the field
All sworn to fetch my head, than be brought on
To change an hours discourse with one of these
Smooth City-fools, or Tissue-Cavaliers,
The only Gallants, as they wisely think,
To get a Jewel, or a wanton Kiss
From a Court-lip, though painted.

Alv. My Love Clara,
(For Lucio is a name thou must forget
With Lucio's bold behaviour) though thy breeding
I' th' Camp, may plead something in the excuse
Of thy rough manners, custom having chang'd,
Though not thy Sex, the softness of thy nature,
And fortune (then a cruel stepdame to thee)
Impos'd upon thy tender sweetness, burthens
Of hunger, cold, wounds, want, such as would crack
The sinews of a man, not born a Soldier:
Yet now she smiles, and like a natural mother
Looks gently on thee, Clara, entertain
Her proffer'd bounties with a willing bosom;
Thou shalt no more have need to use thy sword;
Thy beauty (which even Belgia hath not alter'd)
Shall be a stronger guard, to keep my Clara,
Than that has been, (though never us'd but nobly)
And know thus much.

Cla. Sir, I know only that
It stands not with my duty to gain-say you,
In any thing: I must, and will put on
What fashion you think best: though I could wish
I were what I appear.

Alv. Endeavour rather [Musick.
To be what you are, Clara, entring here,
As you were born, a woman.

Enter Eugenia, Lucio, Servants.

Eug. Let choice Musick
In the best voice that e'er touch'd humane ear,
For joy hath ti'd my tongue up, speak your welcome.

Alv. My soul (for thou giv'st new life to my spirit)
Myriads of joyes, though short in number of
Thy virtues, fall on thee; Oh my Eugenia,
Th' assurance that I do embrace thee, makes
My twenty years of sorrow but a dream,
And by the Nectar, which I take from these,
I feel my age restor'd, and like old Æson
Grow young again.

Eug. My Lord, long wish'd for welcome,
'Tis a sweet briefness, yet in that short word
All pleasures which I may call mine, begin,
And may they long increase, before they find
A second period: let mine eies now surfeit
On this so wish'd for object, and my lips
Yet modestly pay back the parting kiss
You trusted with them, when you fled from Sevil,
With little Clara my sweet daughter: lives she?
Yet I could chide my self, having you here
For being so covetous of all joyes at once,
T' enquire for her, you being alone, to me
My Clara, Lucio, my Lord, my self,
Nay more than all the world.

Alv. As you, to me are.

Eug. Sit down, and let me feed upon the story
Of your past dangers, now you are here in safety
It will give rellish, and fresh appetite
To my delights, if such delights can cloy me.
Yet do not Alvarez, let me first yield you
Account of my life in your absence, and
Make you acquainted how I have preserv'd
The Jewel left lock'd up in my womb,
When you, in being forc'd to leave your Countrey,
Suffer'd a civil death. [Within clashing swords.

Alv. Doe my Eugenia,
'Tis that I most desire to hear.

Eug. Then know. [Sayavedra within.

Alv. What noise is that?

Saya. If you are noble enemies, [Vitelli within.
Oppress me not with odds, but kill me fairly.

Vit. Stand off, I am too many of my self.

Enter Bobadilla.

Bob. Murther, murther, murther, your friend my Lord,
Don Sayavedra is set upon in the streets, by your enemies
Vitelli, and his Faction: I am almost kill'd with looking on
them.

Alv. I'll free him, or fall with him: draw thy sword
And follow me.

Cla. Fortune, I give thee thanks
For this occasion once more to use it. [Exit.

Bo. Nay, hold not me Madam; if I do any hurt, hurt me.

Luc. Oh I am dead with fear! let's flie into
Your Closet, Mother.

Eug. No hour of my life
Secure of danger? heav'n be merciful,
Or now at once dispach me.

Enter Vitelli, pursued by Alvarez, and Sayavedra, Clara beating of Anastro.

Cla. Follow him
Leave me to keep these of.

Alv. Assault my friend
So near my house?

Vit. Nor in it will spare thee,
Though 'twere a Temple: and I'll make it one,
I being the Priest, and thou the sacrifice,
I'll offer to my Uncle.

Alv. Haste thou to him,
And say I sent thee:

Cla. 'Twas put bravely by,
And that: and yet comes on, and boldly rare,
In the wars, where emulation and example
Joyn to increase the courage, and make less
The danger; valour, and true resolution
Never appear'd so lovely, brave again:
Sure he is more than man, and if he fall;
The best of virtue, fortitude would dye with him:
And can I suffer it? forgive me duty,
So I love valour, as I will protect it
Against my Father, and redeem it, though
'Tis forfeited by one I hate.

Vit. Come on,
All is not lost yet: You shall buy me dearer
Before you have me: keep off.

Cla. Fear me not,
Thy worth has took me prisoner, and my sword
For this time knows thee only for a friend,
And to all else I turn the point of it.

Say. Defend your Fathers enemy?

Alv. Art thou mad?

Cla. Are you men rather? shall that valour, which
Begot you lawful honor in the wars,
Prove now the Parent of an infamous Bastard
So foul, yet so long liv'd, as murther will
Be to your shames? have each of you, alone
With your own dangers only, purchas'd glory
From multitudes of enemies, not allowing
Those nearest to you, to have part in it,
And do you now joyn, and lend mutual help
Against a single opposite? hath the mercy
Of the great King, but newly wash'd away
The blood, that with the forfeit of your life
Cleav'd to your name, and family like an ulcer,
In this again to set a deeper dye
Upon your infamy: you'll say he is your foe,
And by his rashness call'd on his own ruin;
Remember yet, he was first wrong'd, and honor
Spurr'd him to what he did, and next the place
Where now he is: your house, which by the laws
Of hospitable duty should protect him;
Have you been twenty years a stranger to it,
To make your entrance now in blood? or think you
Your countrey-man, a true born Spaniard, will be
An offering fit, to please the genius of it?
No, in this I'll presume to teach my Father,
And this first Act of disobedience shall
Confirm I am most dutiful.

Alv. I am pleas'd
With what I dare not give allowance to;
Unnatural wretch, what wilt thou do?

Cla. Set free
A noble enemy: come not on, by——You
pass to him, through me: the way is open:
Farewel: when next I meet you, do not look for
A friend, but a vow'd foe; I see you worthy,
And therefore now preserve you, for the honor
Of my sword only:

Vit. Were this man a friend,
How would he win me, that being my vow'd foe
Deserves so well? I thank you for my life;
But how I shall deserve it, give me leave
Hereafter to consider. [Exit.

Alv. Quit thy fear,
All danger is blown over: I have Letters
To the Governor, in the Kings name, to secure us,
From such attempts hereafter: yet we need not,
That have such strong Guards of our own, dread others;
And to increase thy comfort, know, this young man
Whom with such fervent earnestness you eye,
Is not what he appears, but such a one
As thou with joy wilt bless, thy Daughter Clara.

Eug. A thousand blessings in that word.

Alv. The reason
Why I have bred her up thus, at more leasure
I will impart unto you, wonder not
At what you have seen her do, it being the least
Of many great and valiant undertakings
She hath made good with honor.

Eug. I'll return
The joy I have in her, with one as great
To you my Alvarez: you, in a man,
Have given to me a Daughter: in a Woman,
I give to you a Son, this was the pledge
You left here with me, whom I have brought up
Different from what he was, as you did Clara,
And with the like success; as she appears
Alter'd by custom, more than Woman, he
Transform'd by his soft life, is less than man.

Alv. Fortune, in this gives ample satisfaction
For all our sorrows past.

Luc. My dearest Sister.

Cla. Kind Brother.

Alv. Now our mutual care must be
Imploy'd to help wrong'd nature, to recover
Her right in either of them, lost by custom:
To you I give my Clara, and receive
My Lucio to my charge: and we'll contend
With loving industry, who soonest can
Turn this man woman, or this woman man. [Exeunt.

---

Actus Secundus. Scæna Prima.

Enter Pachieco, and Lazarillo.

Pac. BOy: [my] Cloak, and Rapier; it fits not a Gentleman of my rank, to walk the streets in Querpo.

Laz. Nay, you are a very rank Gent. Signior, I am very hungry, they tell me in Sevil here, I look like an Eel, with a mans head: and your neighbor the Smith here hard by, would have borrowed me th' other day, to have fish'd with me, because he had lost his Angle-rod.

Pac. Oh happy thou Lazarillo (being the cause of other mens wits) as in thine own: live lean, and witty still: oppress not thy stomach too much: gross feeders, great sleepers[: great sleepers,] fat bodies; fat bodies, lean brains: No Lazarillo, I will make thee immortal, change thy Humanity into Deity, for I will teach thee to live upon nothing.

Laz. Faith Signior, I am immortal then already, or very near it, for I do live upon little or nothing: belike that's the reason the Poets are said to be immortal, for some of them live upon their wits, which is indeed as good as little or nothing: But good Master, let me be mortal still, and let's go to supper.

Pac. Be abstinent; shew not the corruption of thy generation: he that feeds, shall die, therefore, he that feeds not shall live.

Laz. I; but how long shall he live? there's the question.

Pac. As long as he can without feeding: did'st thou read of the miraculous Maid in Flanders?

Laz. No, nor of any Maid else; for the miracle of Virgi[n]ity now-a-days ceases, e'r the Virgin can read Virginity?

Pac. She that liv'd three years without any other sustenance, than the smell of a Rose.

Laz. I heard of her Signior, but they say her guts shrunk all into Lute-strings, and her neather-parts cling'd together like a Serpents Tail, so that though she continued a woman still above the girdle, beneath yet she was monster.

Pac. So are most women, believe it.

Laz. Nay all women Signior, that can live only upon the smell of a Rose.

Pac. No part of the History is fabulous.

Laz. I think rather no part of the Fable is Historical: but for all this, Sir, my rebellious stomach will not let me be immortal: I will be as immortal, as mortal hunger will suffer: put me to a certain stint Sir, allow me but a red herring a day.

Pac. O' de dios: wouldst thou be gluttonous in thy delicacies?

Laz. He that eats nothing but a red herring a day, shall ne'r be broil'd for the devil's rasher: a Pilchard, Signior, a Surdiny, an Olive, that I may be a Philosopher first, and immortal after.

Pac. Patience Lazarillo; let contemplation be thy food awhile: I say unto thee, one Pease was a Soldiers Provant a whole day, At the destruction of Jerusalem.

Enter Metaldi, and Mendoza.

Laz. I; and it were any where but at the destruction of a place, I'll be hang'd.

Met. Signior Pachieco Alasto, my most ingenious Cobler of Sevil, the bonos noxios to your Signiorie.

Pac. Signior Metaldi de Forgio, my most famous Smith, and man of Mettle, I return your courtesie ten fold, and do humble my Bonnet beneath the Shooe-sole of your congie: the like to you Signior Mendoza Pediculo de Vermim, my most exquisite Hose-heeler.

Laz. Here's a greeting betwixt a Cobler, a Smith, and a Botcher: they all belong to the foot, which makes them stand so much upon their Gentrie.

Mend. Signior Lazarillo.

Laz. Ah Signior see: nay, we are all Signiors here in Spain, from the Jakes-farmer to the Grandee, or Adelantado: this Botcher looks as if he were Dough-bak'd, a little Butter now, and I could eat him like an Oaten-cake: his fathers diet was new Cheese and Onions when he got him: what a scallion-fac'd rascal 'tis!

Met. But why Signior Pachieco, do you stand so much on the priority, and antiquity of your quality (as you call it) in comparison of ours?

Mend. I; your reason for that.

Pac. Why thou Iron-pated Smith: and thou Woollen-witted Hose-heeler: hear what I will speak indifferently (and according to antient Writers) of our three professions: and let the upright Lazarillo be both judge and moderator.

Laz. Still am I the most immortally hungry; that may be.

Pac. Suppose thou wilt derive thy Pedigree, like some of the old Heroes, (as Hercules, Æneas, Achilles) lineally from the gods, making Saturn thy great Grandfather, and Vulcan thy Father: Vulcan was a god.

Laz. He'll make Vulcan your godfather by and by.

Pac. Yet I say, Saturn was a crabbed block-head, and Vulcan a limping Horn-head, for Venus his wife was a strumpet, and Mars begot all her Children; therefore however, thy original must of necessity spring from Bastardie: further, what can be a more deject spirit in man, than to lay his hands under every ones horses feet, to do him service, as thou dost? For thee, I will be brief, thou dost botch, and not mend, thou art a hider of enormities, viz., Scabs, chilblains, and kib'd heels: much prone thou art to Sects, and Heresies, disturbing State, and Government; for how canst thou be a sound member in the common-wea[l]th, that art so subject to stit[c]hes in the ankles? blush, and be silent then, oh ye Mechanicks, compare no more with the politick Cobler: For Coblers (in old time) have prophesied, what may they do now then, that have every day waxed better, and better? have we not the length of every mans foot? are we not daily menders? yea, and what menders? not horse-menders.

Laz. Nor manners-menders.

Pach. But soul-menders: Oh divine Coblers; do we not, like the wise man, spin out our own threads, (or our wives for us?) do we not by our sowing the Hide, reap the Beef? are not we of the Gentle-craft, whilst both you are but Crafts-men; You will say, you fear neither Iron nor Steel, and what you get is wrought out of the fire; I must answer you again, though, all this is but forgery: You may likewise say, a man's a man, that has but a hose on his head: I must likewise answer, that man is a botcher, that has a heel'd hose on his head: to conclude, there can be no comparison with the Cobler, who is all in all in the Common-wealth, has his politique eye and ends on every mans steps that walks, and whose course shall be lasting to the worlds end.

Met. I give place: the wit of man is wonderful: thou hast hit the nail on the head, and I will give thee six pots for't, though I ne'r clinch shooe again.

Enter Vitelli and Alguazier.

Pac. Who's this? oh our Alguazier: as arrant a knave as e'er wore one head under two offices: he is one side Alguazier.

Met. The other side Serjeant.

Mend. That's both sides carrion I am sure.

Pac. This is he apprehends whores in the way of justice, and lodges 'em in his own house, in the way of profit: he with him, is the Grand Don Vitelli, 'twixt whom and Fernando Alvarez, the mortal hatred is; he is indeed my Don's Bawd, and does at this present, lodge a famous Curtizan of his, lately come from Madrid.

Vit. Let her want nothing Signior, she can aske:
What loss or injury you may sustain
I will repair, and recompence your love:
Only that fellows coming I mislike,
And did fore-warn her of him: bear her this
With my best love, at night I'll visit her.

Alg. I rest your Lordships Servant.

Vit. Good ev'n, Signiors:
Oh Alvarez, thou hast brought a Son with thee
Both brightens, and obscures our Nation,
Whose pure strong beams on us, shoot like the Suns
On baser fires: I would to heaven my bloud
Had never stain'd thy bold unfortunate hand,
That with mine honor I might emulate,
Not persecute such virtue: I will see him,
Though with the hazard of my life: no rest
In my contentious spirits, can I find
Till I have gratify'd him in like kind. [Exit.

Alg. I know you not: what are ye? hence ye base Besegnios.

Pac. Mary Catzo Signior Alguazier, d'ye not know us? why, we are your honest neighbors, the Cobler, Smith, and Botcher, that have so often sate snoaring cheek by joll with your Signiorie, in rug at midnight.

Laz. Nay, good Signior, be not angry: you must understand, a Cat, and such an Officer see best in the dark.

Met. By this hand, I could find in my heart to shooe his head.

Pac. Why then know you, Signior; thou mongril, begot at midnight, at the Goal gate, by a Beadle, on a Catchpoles wife, are not you he that was whipt out of Toledo for perjury.

Men. Next; condemn'd to the Gallies for pilfery, to the Buls pizel.

Met. And after call'd to the Inquisition, for Apostacie.

Pac. Are not you he that rather than you durst goe an industrious voyage being press'd to the Islands, skulk'd till the Fleet was gone, and then earn'd your Royal a day by squiring puncks, and puncklings up and down the City?

Laz. Are not you a Portuguize born, descended o' the Moors, and came hither into Sevil with your Master, an arrant Tailor, in your red Bonnet, and your blue Jacket, lousie, though now your block-head be cover'd with the Spanish block, and your lashed Shoulders with a Velvet Pee.

Pac. Are not you he that have been of thirty callings, yet ne'r a one lawful? that being a Chandler first, profess'd sincerity, and would sell no man Mustard to his Beef on the Sabbath, and yet sold Hypocrisie all your life time?

Met. Are not you he, that were since a Surgeon to the Stews, and undertook to cure what the Church it self could not, Strumpets that rise to your office by being a great Don's Bawd?

Laz. That commit men nightly, offenceless, for the gain of a groat a prisoner, which your Beadle seems to put up, when you share three pence?

Mend. Are not you he that is a kisser of men, in drunkenness, and a betrayer in sobriety?

Alg. Diabolo: they'll rail me into the Gallies again.

Pac. Yes Signior, thou art even he we speak of all this while: thou mayst by thy place now, lay us by the heels: 'tis true: but take heed, be wiser, pluck not ruin on thine own head: for never was there such an Anatomie, as we shall make thee then: be wise therefore, [Oh] thou child of the night! be friends, and shake hands, thou art a proper man, if thy beard were redder: remember thy worshipful function, a Constable; though thou turn'st day into night, and night into day, what of that? watch less and pray more: [gird thy beares skin (viz. thy Rug-gowne) to thy loyes, take thy staffe in thy hand, and goe forth at midnight:] Let not thy mittens abate the talons of thy authority, but gripe theft and whoredom, wheresoever thou meet'st 'em: bear 'em away like a tempest, and lodge 'em safely in thine own house:

Laz. Would you have whores and thieves lodgd in such a house?

Pac. They ever do so: I have found a thief, or a whore there, when the whole Suburbs could not furnish me.

Laz. But why do they lodge there?

Pac. That they may be safe and forth-coming: for in the morning usually, the thief is sent to the Goal, and the whore prostrates her self to the Justice.

Men. Admirable Pachiecho.

Met. Thou Cobler of Christendom.

Alg. There is no railing with these rogues: I will close with 'em, till I can cry quittance: why Signiors, and my honest neighbors, will you impute that as a neglect of my friends, which is an imperfection in me? I have been Sandblind from my infancy: to make you amends you shall sup with me.

Laz. Shall we sup with ye, Sir? O' my conscience, they have wrong'd the Gentleman extreamly.

Alg. And after supper, I have a project to employ you in, shall make you drink and eat merrily this month: I am a little knavish: why, and doe not I know all you to be knaves?

Pac. I grant you, we are all knaves, and will be your knaves: But oh, while you live, take heed of being a proud knave.

Alg. On then pass: I will bear out my staffe, and my staffe shall bear out me.

Laz. Oh Lazarillo, thou art going to supper. [Exeunt.

Scæna Secunda.

Enter Lucio, and Bobadilla.

Luc. Pray be not angry.

Bob. I am angry, and I will be angry Diabolo: what should you do in the Kitchin, cannot the Cooks lick their fingers without your overseeing? nor the maids make pottage, except your dogs-head be in the pot? Don Lucio, Don Quot-Quean, Don Spinster, wear a Petticoat still, and put on your Smock a' Monday: I will have a baby o' clouts made for it, like a great girl: nay, if you will needs be starching of Ruffs, and sowing of Black-work, I will of a mild, and loving Tutor, become a Tyrant, your Father has committed you to my charge, and I will make a man or a mouse on you.

Luc. What would you have me do? this scurvy sword
So galls my thigh: I would 't were burnt: pish, look,
This Cloak will ne'r keep on: these Boots too hide-bound,
Make me walk stiff, as if my legs were frozen,
And my Spurs gingle like a Morris-dancer:
Lord, how my head akes with this roguish Hat;
This masculine attire is most uneasie,
I am bound up in it: I had rather walk
In folio, again, loose like a woman.

Bob. In Foolio, had you not?
Thou mock to heav'n, and nature, and thy Parents,
Thou tender Leg of Lamb; oh, how he walks
As if he had bepiss'd himself, and fleers!
Is this a gate for the young Cavalier,
Don Lucio, Son and Heir to Alvarez?
Has it a corn? or do's it walk on conscience,
It treads so gingerly? Come on your ways,
Suppose me now your Fathers foe, Vitelli,
And spying you i' th' street, thus I advance
I twist my Beard, and then I draw my sword.

Luc. Alas.

Bob. And thus accost thee: traiterous brat,
How durst thou thus confront me? impious twig
Of that old stock, dew'd with my kinsmans gore,
Draw, for I'll quarter thee in pieces four.

Luc. Nay, prethee Bobadilla, leave thy fooling,
Put up thy sword, I will not meddle with ye;
I, justle me, I care not: I'll not draw,
Pray be a quiet man.

Bob. D'ye hear: answer me, as you would do Don Vitelli,
or I'll be so bold as to lay the pomel of my sword over the hilts
of your head: my name's Vitelli, and I'll have the wall.

Luc. Why then I'll have the kennel: what a coil you keep!
Signior, what happen'd 'twixt my Sire and your
Kinsman, was long before I saw the world,
No fault of mine, nor will I justifie
My Fathers crimes: forget Sir, and forgive.
'Tis Christianity: I pray put up your sword,
I'll give you any satisfaction
That may become a Gentleman: however
I hope you are bred to more humanity
Than to revenge my Fathers wrong on me
That crave your love, and peace: law-you-now Zancho
Would not this quiet him, were he ten Vitellies.

Bob. Oh craven-chicken of a Cock o' th' game: well, what remedy? did thy Father see this, O' my conscience, he would cut off thy Masculine gender, crop thine ears, beat out thine eyes, and set thee in one of the Pear trees for a scare-crow: As I am Vitelli, I am satisfied; But as I am Bobadilla, Spindola, Zancho, Steward of the house, and thy Fathers Servant, I could find in my heart to lop off the hinder part of thy face, or to beat all thy teeth into thy mouth: Oh thou whay-blooded milk-sop, I'll wait upon thee no longer, thou shalt ev'n wait upon me: come your ways Sir, I shall take a little pains with ye else.

Enter Clara.

Cla. Where art thou brother Lucio? ran tan tan ta ran tan ran tan tan ta, ta ran tan tan tan. Oh, I shall no more see those golden daies, these clothes will never fadge with me: a —— O' this filthy vardingale, this hip-hape: brother, why are womens hanches only limited, confin'd, hoop'd in, as it were with these same scurvy vardingales?

Bob. Because womens hanches only are most subject to display and flie out.

Cla. Bobadilla, rogue, ten Duckets, I hit the prepuce of thy Codpiece.

Luc. Hold, if you love my life, Sister: I am not Zancho Bobadilla, I am your brother Lucio: what a fright you have put me in!

Cla. Brother? and wherefore thus?

Luc. Why, Master Steward here, Signior Zancho made me change: he does nothing but mis-use me, and call me Coward, and swears I shall wait upon him.

Bob. Well: I do no more than I have authori[t]y for: would I were away though: for she's as much too manish, as he too womanish: I dare not meddle with her, yet I must set a good face on't (if I had it) I have like charge of [you] Madam, I am as well to mollifie you, as to quallifie him: what have you to do with Armors, and Pistols, and Javelins, and swords, and such tools? remember Mistriss; nature hath given you a sheath only, to signifie women are to put up mens weapons, not to draw them: look you now, is this a fit trot for a Gentlewoman? You shall see the Court-Ladies move like Goddesses, as if they trode air; they will swim you their measures, like Whiting-mops, as if their feet were finns, and the hinges of their knees oil'd: doe they love to ride great horses, as you do? no, they love to ride great asses sooner: faith, I know not what to say t' ye both: Custom hath turn'd nature topsie-turvie in you.

Cla. Nay, but Master Steward.

Bob. You cannot trot so fast, but he ambles as slowly.

Cla. Signior Spindle, will you hear me?

Bob. He that shall come to bestride your Virginity, had better be afoot o'er the Dragon.

Cl[a]. Very well.

Bob. Did ever Spanish Lady pace so?

Cla. Hold these a little.

Luc. I'll not touch 'em, I.

Cla. First doe I break your Office o're your pate,
You Dog-skin-fac'd rogue, pilcher, you poor John,
Which I will beat to Stock-fish.

Luc. Sister.

Bob. Madam.

Cla. You Cittern-head, who have you talk'd to, ha? You nasty, stinking, and ill-countenanc'd Cur.

Bob. By this hand, I'll bang your brother for this, when I get him alone.

Cla. How? kick him Lucio, he shall kick you Bob,
Spight o' the nose, that's flat: kick him, I say,
Or I will cut thy head off.

Bob. Softly y' had best.

Cla. Now, thou lean, dry'd, and ominous visag'd knave,
Thou false and peremptory Steward, pray,
For I will hang thee up in thine own chain.

Luc. Good Sister do not choak him.

Bob. Murder, murder. [Exit.

Cla. Well: I shall meet with ye: Lucio, who bought this?
'Tis a reasonable good one; but there hangs one
Spain's Champion ne'er us'd truer: with this Staffe
Old Alvarez has led up men so close,
They could almost spit in the Cannons mouth,
Whilst I with that, and this well mounted, scour'd
A Horse-troop through, and through, like swift desire,
And seen poor rogues retire, all gore, and gash'd
Like bleeding Shads.

Luc. Bless us, Sister Clara.
How desperately you talk: what d' ye call
This Gun a dag?

Cla. I'll give't thee: a French petronel:
You never saw my Barbary, the Infanta
Bestow'd upon me, as yet Lucio?
Walk down, and see it.

Luc. What into the Stable?
Not I, the Jades will kick: the poor Groom there
Was almost spoil'd the other day.

Cla. Fie on thee,
Thou wilt scarce be a man before thy Mother.

Luc. When will you be a woman?

Enter Alvarez and Bobadilla.

Cla. Would I were none.
But natures privy Seal assures me one.

Alv. Thou anger'st me: can strong habitual custome
Work with such Magick on the mind and manners,
In spight of sex and nature? find out sirrah,
Some skilful fighter.

Bob. Yes Sir.

Alv. I will rectifie,
And redeem eithers proper inclination,
Or bray 'em in a morter, and new mold 'em. [Exit.

Bob. Believe your eyes, Sir, I tell you, we wash an Ethiop.

Cla. I strike it for ten Duckets.

Alv. How now Clara,
Your Breeches on still? and your petticoat
Not yet off Lucio? art thou not guelt?
Or did the cold Muscovite beget thee,
That lay here Lieger in the last great frost?
Art not thou Clara, turn'd a man indeed
Beneath the girdle? and a woman thou?
I'll have you search'd by —— I strongly doubt;
We must have these things mended: come goe in. [Exit.

Enter Vitelli and Bobadilla.

Bob. With Lucio say you? there is for you.

Vit. And there is for thee.

Bob. I thank you: you have now bought a little advice
Of me; if you chance to have conference with that
Lady there, be very civil, or look to your head: she has
Ten nails, and you have but two eies: If any foolish
Hot motions should chance to rise in the Horizon
Under your equinoctial there, qualifie it as well as
You can, for I fear the elevation of your pole will
Not agree with the Horoscope of her constitution:
She is Bell the Dragon I assure you. [Exit.

Vit. Are you the Lucio, Sir, that sav'd Vitelli?

Luc. Not I indeed, Sir, I did never brable;
There walks that Lucio Metamorphosed. [Exit.

Vit. Do ye mock me?

Cla. No, he does not: I am that
Supposed Lucio that was, but Clara,
That is, and daughter unto Alvarez.

Vit. Amazement daunts me; would my life were riddles,
So you were still my fair Expositor:
Protected by a Lady from my death.
Oh, I shall wear an everlasting blush
Upon my cheek from this discovery:
Oh, you the fairest Soldier, I e'er saw;
Each of whose eyes, like a bright beamy Shield,
Conquers without blows, the contentious.

Cla. Sir, guard your self, you are in your enemies house,
And may be injur'd.

Vit. 'Tis impossible:
Foe, nor oppressing odds dares prove Vitelli,
If Clara side him, and will call him friend;
I would the difference of our bloods were such
As might with any shift be wip'd away:
Or would to heaven your self were all your name;
That having lost blood by you, I might hope
To raise blood from you. But my black-wing'd fate
Hovers aversely over that fond hope:
And he, whose tongue thus gratifies the daughter,
And Sister of his enemy, wears a sword
To rip the Father and the Brother up.
Thus you that sav'd this wretched life of mine,
Have sav'd it to the ruin of your friends.
That my affections should promiscuously
Dart love and hate at once, both worthily?
Pray let me kiss your hand.

Cla. You are treacherous,
And come to do me mischief.

Vit. Speak on still:
Your words are falser (fair) than my intents,
And each sweet accent far more treacherous; for
Though you speak ill of me, you speak so well,
I doe desire to hear you.

Cla. Pray be gone:
Or kill me if you please.

Vit. Oh, neither can I,
For to be gone, were to destroy my life;
And to kill you, were to destroy my soul:
I am in love, yet must not be in love:
I'll get away apace: yet valiant Lady,
Such gratitude to honor I do owe,
And such obedience to your memory,
That if you will bestow something, that I
May wear about me, it shall bind all wrath,
My most inveterate wrath, from all attempts,
Till you and I meet next.

Cla. A favour, Sir?
Why, I will give ye good counsel.

Vit. That already,
You have bestowed; a Ribbon, or a Glove.

Cla. Nay, those are tokens for a waiting-maid
To trim the Butler with.

Vit. Your feather.

Cla. Fie; the wenches give them to their serving-men.

Vit. That little Ring.

Cla. 'Twill hold you but by th' finger;
And I would [have] you faster.

Vit. Any thing
That I may wear, and but remember you.

Cla. This smi[l]e: my good opinion, or my self.
But that it seems you like not.

Vit. Yes, so well:
When any smiles, I will remember yours;
Your good opinion shall in weight poize me
Against a thousand ill: Lastly, your self,
My curious eye now figures in my heart,
Where I will wear you, till the Table break.
So, whitest Angels guard you.

Cla. Stay Sir, I
Have fitly thought to give, what you as fitly
May not disdain to wear.

Vit. What's that?

Cla. This Sword.
I never heard a man speak till this hour.
His words are golden chains, and now I fear
The Lyonesse hath met a tamer here:
Fie, how his tongue chimes: what was I saying?
Oh: this favour I bequeath you, which I tie
In a Love-knot, fast, ne'er to hurt my friends;
Yet be it fortunate 'gainst all your foes
(For I have neither friend, nor foe, but yours)
As e'er it was to me: I've kept it long,
And value it, next my Virginity:
But good, return it, for I now remember
I vow'd, who purchas'd it, should have me too.

Vit. Would that were possible: but alas it is not;
Yet this assure your self, most honour'd Clara,
I'll not infringe a particle of breath
My vow hath offered to ye: nor from this part
Whilst it hath edge, or point, or I a heart. [Exit.

Cla. Oh, leave me living: what new exercise
Is crept into my breast, that blauncheth clean
My former nature? I begin to find
I am a woman, and must learn to fight
A softer sweeter battel, than with swords.
I am sick methinks, but the disease I feel
Pleaseth, and punisheth: I warrant love
Is very like this, that folks talke of so;
I skill not what it is, yet sure even here,
Even in my heart, I sensibly perceive
It glows, and riseth like a glimmering flame,
But know not yet the Essence on't, nor name. [Exit.

---

Actus Tertius. Scæna Prima.

Enter Malroda and Alguazier.

Mal. HE must not? nor he shall not, who shall lett him?
You politique Diego, with your face of wisdom;
Don-blirt, the —— on your Aphorismes,
Your grave, and Sage-Ale Physiognomy:
Do not I know thee for the Alguazier,
Whose dunghil all the Parish Scavengers
Could never rid? thou Comedy to men,
Whose serious folly is a Butt for all
To shoot their wits at; whilst thou hast not wit,
Nor heart, to answer, or be angry.

Alg. Lady.

Mal. Peace, peace, you rotten Rogue, supported by
A staffe of rottener office: dare you check
Any accesses that I will allow?
Piorato is my friend, and visits me
In lawful sort to espouse me as his wife;
And who will cross, or shall our enter-views?
You know me sirrah, for no Chambermaid,
That cast her belly, and her wastecoat lately;
Thou think'st thy Constableship is much: not so,
I am ten offices to thee: I, thy house,
Thy house, and office is maintain'd by me.

Alg. My house-of-office is maintain'd i' th' garden:
Go too, I know you, and I have contriv'd;
Y'are a delinquent, but I have contriv'd
A poison, though not in the third degree:
I can say, black's your eye, though it be grey;
I have conniv'd at this, your friend, and you:
But what is got by this connivency?
I like his feather well: a proper man,
Of good discourse, fine conversation,
Valiant, and a great carrier of the business,
Sweet breasted, as the Nightingale, or Thrush:
Yet I must tell you; you forget your self,
My Lord Vitellies love, and maintenance
Deserves no other Jack i' th' box, but he:
What though he gather'd first the golden fruit,
And blew your pig's-coat up into a blister,
When you did wait at Court upon his mother;
Has he not well provided for the barn?
Beside, what profit reap I by the other?
If you will have me serve your pleasure, Lady,
Your pleasure must accommodate my service;
As good be virtuous and poor, as not
Thrive by my knavery, all the world would be
Good, prosper'd goodness like to villany.
I am the Kings Vice-gerent by my place;
His right Lieutenant in mine own precinct.

Mal. Thou art a right rascal in all mens precincts;
Yet now my pair of twins, of fool, and knave,
Look we are friends; there's Gold for thee, admit
Whom I will have, and keep it from my Don;
And I will make thee richer than thou'rt wise:
Thou shalt be my Bawd, and my Officer:
Thy children shall eat still, my good night Owl,
And thy old wife sell Andirons to the Court,
Be countenanced by the Dons, and wear a hood,
Nay, keep my Garden-house; I'll call her Mother,
Thee Father, my good poysonous Red-hair'd Dill,
And Gold shall daily be thy Sacrifice,
Wrought from a fertile Island of mine own,
Which I will offer, like an Indian Queen.

Alg. And I will be thy devil, thou my flesh,
With which I'll catch the world.

Mal. Fill some Tobacco,
And bring it in: if Piorato come
Before my Don, admit him; if my Don
Before my Love, conduct him, my dear Devil. [Exit.

Alg. I will my dear Flesh: first come, first serv'd. Well said.
Oh equal Heaven, how wisely thou disposest
Thy several gifts! one's born a great rich fool,
For the subordinate knave to work upon:
Anothers poor, with wits addition,
Which well or ill-us'd, builds a living up;
And that too from the Sire oft descends:
Only fair virtue, by traduction
Never succeeds, and seldom meets success,
What have I then to do with't? My free will
Left me by heaven, makes me or good, or ill:
Now since vice gets more in this vicious world
Than Piety, and my Stars confluence
Enforce my disposition to affect
Gain, and the name of rich, let who will practise
War, and grow that way great: religious,
And that way good: my chief felicity
Is wealth the nurse of sensuality:
And he that mainly labours to be rich,
Must scratch great scabs, and claw a Strumpets itch. [Exit.

Scæna Secunda.

Enter Piorato, and B[o]badilla, with Letters.

Pio. To s[a]y, Sir, I will wait upon your Lord,
Were not to understand my self.

Bob. To say Sir,
You will do any thing but wait upon him,
Were not to understand my Lord.

Pio. I'll meet him
Some half hour hence, and doubt not but to render
His Son a man again: the cure is easie,
I have done divers.

Bob. Women do ye mean, Sir?

Pio. Cures I do mean, Sir: be there but one spark
Of fire remaining in him unextinct,
With my discourse I'll blow it to a flame;
And with my practice into action:
I have had one so full of childish fear,
And womanish-hearted sent to my advice,
He durst not draw a knife to cut his meat.

Bob. And how Sir, did you help him?

Pio. Sir, I kept him
Seven daies in a dark room by a Candle-light,
A plenteous Table spread with all good meats,
Before his eyes, a Case of keen broad Knives,
Upon the board, and he so watch'd he might not
Touch the least modicum, unless he cut it:
And thus I brought him first to draw a knife.

Bob. Good.

Pio. Then for ten daies did I diet him
Only with burnt Pork, Sir, and gammons of Bacon;
A pill of Caveary now and then,
Which breeds choler adust you know.

Bob. 'Tis true.

Pio. And to purge phlegmatick humor, and cold crudities;
In all that time he drank me Aqua-fortis,
And nothing else but—

Bo. Aqua-vitæ Signior,
For Aqua-fortis poisons.

Pio. Aqua-fortis
I say again: what's one man's poison, Signior,
Is anothers meat or drink.

Bob. Your patience, Sir;
By your good patience, h' had a huge cold stomach.

Pio. I fir'd it: and gave him then three sweats
In the Artillery-yard three drilling daies:
And now he'll shoot a Gun, and draw a Sword,
And fight with any man in Christendom.

Bob. A receipt for a coward: I'll be bold, Sir,
To write your good prescription.

Pio. Sir, hereafter
You shall, and underneath it put probatum:
Is your chain right?

Bob. 'Tis both right and just Sir;
For though I am a Steward, I did get it
With no mans wrong.

Pio. You are witty.

Bob. So, so.
Could you not cure one Sir, of being too rash
And over-daring? there now's my disease:
Fool-hardy as they say, for that in sooth,
I am.

Pio. Most easily.

Bob. How?

Pio. To make you drunk, Sir,
With small Beer once a day, and beat you twice,
Till you be bruis'd all over: if that help not,
Knock out your brains.

Bob. This is strong Physick Signior,
And never will agree with my weak body:
I find the medicine worse than the malady,
And therefore will remain fool-hardy still:
You'll come, Sir?

Pio. As I am a Gentleman.

Bob. A man o' th' Sword should never break his word.

Pio. I'll overtake you: I have only, Sir
A complimental visitation
To offer to a Mistriss lodg'd here by.

Bob. A Gentlewoman?

Pio. Yes Sir.

Bob. Fair, and comely?

Pio. Oh Sir, the Paragon, the Non-paril
Of Sevil, the most wealthy Mine of Spain,
For beauty, and perfection.

Bob. Say you so?
Might not a man entreat a crtesie,
To walk along with you Signior, to peruse
This dainty Mine, though not to dig in't Signior?
Hauh—I hope you'll not denie me, being a stranger;
Though I am a Steward, I am flesh and blood,
And frail as other men.

Pio. Sir, blow your nose:
I dare not for the world: no, she is kept
By a great Don, Vitelli.

Bob. How?

Pio. 'Tis true.

Bob. See, things will veer about: this Don Vitelli
Am I to seek now, to deliver Letters
From my young Mistriss Clara: and I tell you,
Under the Rose, because you are a stranger,
And my special friend, I doubt there is
A little foolish love betwixt the parties,
Unknown unto my Lord.

Pio. Happy discovery:
My fruit begins to ripen: hark you Sir,
I would not wish you now, to give those Letters:
But home, and ope this to Madona Clara,
Which when I come I'll justifie, and relate
More amply, and particularly.

Bob. I approve
Your counsel, and will practise it: bazilos manos:
Here's two chewres chewr'd: when wisdom is imploy'd
'Tis ever thus: your more acquaintance, Signior:
I say not better, least you think, I thought not
Yours good enough. [Exit.

Enter Alguazier.

Pio. Your servant excellent Steward.
Would all the Dons in Spain had no more brains,
Here comes the Alguazier: dieu vous guard Monsieur.
Is my Cuz stirring yet?

Alg. Your Cuz (good cosin?)
A whore is like a fool, a kin to all
The gallants in the Town: Your [C]uz, good Signior,
Is gone abroad; Sir, with her other Cosin,
My Lord Vitelli: since when there hath been
Some dozen Cosins here to enquire for her.

Pio. She's greatly ally'd Sir.

Alg. Marry is she, Sir,
Come of a lusty kindred: the truth is,
I must connive no more: no more admittance
Must I consent to; my good Lord has threatned me,
And you must pardon.

Pio. Out upon thee man,
Turn honest in thine age? one foot i'th' grave?
Thou shalt not wrong thy self so, for a million:
Look, thou three-headed Cerberus (for wit
I mean) here is one sop, and two, and three,
For every chop a bit.

Alg. I marry Sir:
Well, the poor heart loves you but too well.
We have been talking on you 'faith this hour:
Where, what I said, goe too: she loves your valour;
Oh, and your Musick most abominably:
She is within Sir, and alone: what mean you?

Pio. That is your Sergeants side, I take it Sir;
Now I endure your Constables much better;
There is less danger in't: for one you know
Is a tame harmless monster in the light,
The Sergeant salvage both by day, and night.

Alg. I'll call her to you for that.

Pio. No, I will charm her.

Enter Malroda.

Alg. She's come.

Pio. My Spirit.

Mal. Oh my Sweet,
Leap hearts to lips, and in our kisses meet.

SONG.

Pio. Turn, turn thy beauteous face away.
How pale and sickly looks the day,
In emulation of thy brighter beams!
Oh envious light, fli, flie, begone,
Come night, and piece two breasts as one;
When what love does, we will repeat in dreams.
Yet (thy eyes open) who can day hence fright,
Let but their Lids fall, and it will be night.

Alg. Well, I will leave you to your fortitude;
And you to temperance: ah, ye pretty pair,
'Twere sin to sunder you. Lovers being alone
Make one of two, and day and [n]ight all one.
But fall not out, I charge you, keep the peace;
You know my place else. [Exit.

Mal. No, you will not marry:
You are a Courtier, and can sing (my Love)
And want no Mistrisses: but yet I care not,
I'll love you still; and when I am dead for you,
Then you'll believe my truth.

Pio. You kill me (fair)
It is my lesson that you speak: have I
In any circumstance deserv'd this doubt?
I am not like your false and perjur'd Don
That here maintains you, and has vow'd his faith,
And yet attempts in way of marriage
A Lady not far off.

Mal. How's that?

Pio. 'Tis so:
And therefore Mistriss, now the time is come
You may demand his promise; and I swear
To marry you with speed.

Mal. And with that Gold
Which Don Vitelli gives, you'll walk some voyage
And leave me to my Trade; and laugh, and brag,
How you o'er-reach'd a whore, and gull'd a Lord.

Pio. You anger me extreamly: fare you well.
What should I say to be believ'd? expose me
To any hazard; or like jealous Juno
(Th' incensed step-mother of Hercules)
Design me labours most impossible,
I'll doe 'em, or die in 'em; so at last
You will believe me.

Mal. Come, we are friends: I do,
I am thine, walk in: my Lord has sent me outsides,
But thou shall have 'em, the colours are too sad:

Pio. 'Faith Mistriss, I want clothes indeed.

Mal. I have
Some Gold too, for my servant.

Pio. And I have
A better mettal for my Mistriss. [Exeunt.

Scæna Tertia.

Enter Vitelli and Alguazier, at several doors.

Alg. Undone—wit now or never help me: my Master
He will cut my throat, I am a dead Constable;
And he'll not be hang'd neither, there's the grief:
The party, Sir, is here.

Vit. What?

Alg. He was here;
I cry your Lordship mercy: but I ratled him;
I told him here was no companions
For such debauch'd, and poor condition'd fellows;
I bid him venture not so desperately
The cropping of his ears, slitting his nose,
Or being gelt.

Vit. 'Twas well done.

Alg. Please your honor,
I told him there were Stews, and then at last
Swore three or four great oaths she was remov'd,
Which I did think I might, in conscience,
Being for your Lordship.

Vit. What became of him?

Alg. Faith Sir, he went away with a flea in's ear,
Like a poor cur, clapping his trundle tail
Betwixt his legs.—A chi ha, a chi ha, a chi ha—now luck.

Enter Malroda and Piorato.

Mal. 'Tis he, do as I told thee: Bless thee Signior.
Oh, my dear Lord.

Vit. Malroda, what alone?

Mal. She never is alone, that is accompanied
With noble thoughts, my Lord; and mine are such,
Being only of your Lordship.

Vit. Pretty Lass.

Mal. Oh my good Lord, my Picture's done: but 'faith
It is not like; nay, this way Sir, the light
Strikes best upon it here.

Pio. Excellent wench. [Exit.

Alg. I am glad the danger's over. [Exit.

Vit. 'Tis wondrous like,
But that Art cannot counterfeit what Nature
Could make but once.

Mal. All's clear; another tune
You must hear from me now: Vitelli, thou'rt
A most perfidious and a perjur'd man,
As ever did usurp Nobility.

Vit. What meanst thou Mal?

Mal. Leave your betraying smiles,
And change the tunes of your inticing tongues
To penitential prayers; for I am great
In labour, even with anger, big with child
Of womans rage, bigger than when my womb
Was pregnant by thee: go seducer, flie
Out of the world, let me the last wretch be
Dishonored by thee: touch me not, I loath
My very heart, because thou lay'st there long;
A woman's well help'd up, that's confident
In e'er a glittering outside on you all:
Would I had honestly been match'd to some
Poor Countrey-swain, e'er known the vanity
Of Court: peace then had been my portion,
Nor had been cozen'd by an hours pomp
To be a whore unto my dying day.

Vit. Oh the uncomfortable waies such women have,
Their different speech and meaning, no assurance
In what they say or do: Dissemblers
Even in their prayers, as if the weeping Greek
That flatter'd Troy a-fire, had been their Adam;
Lyers, as if their mother had been made
Only of all the falshood of the man,
Dispos'd into that rib: Do I know this,
And more: nay, all that can concern this Sex,
With the true end of my creation?
Can I with rational discourse sometimes
Advance my spirit into Heaven, before
'T has shook hands with my body, and yet blindly
Suffer my filthy flesh to master it,
With sight of such fair frail beguiling objects?
When I am absent, easily I resolve
Ne'er more to entertain those strong desires
That triumph o'er me, even to actual sin;
Yet when I meet again those sorcerers eies,
Their beams my hardest resolutions thaw,
As if that cakes of Ice and July met,
And her sighs powerful as the violent North,
Like a light feather twirl me round about
And leave me in mine own low state again.
What ayl'st thou? prethee weep not: Oh, those tears
If they were true, and rightly spent, would raise
A flow'ry spring i'th' midst of January:
Celestial Ministers with Chrystal cups
Would stoop to save 'em for immortal drink:
But from this passion; why all this?

Mal. Do ye ask?
You are marrying: having made me unfit
For any man, you leave me fit for all:
Porters must be my burthens now, to live,
And fitting me your self for Carts, and Beadles,
You leave me to 'em: And who of all the world
But the virago, your great Arch-foes daughter?
But on: I care not, this poor rush: 'twill breed
An excellent Comedy: ha, ha: 't makes me laugh:
I cannot choose: the best is, some report
It is a match for fear, not love o' your side.

Vit. Why how the devil knows she, that I saw
This Lady? are all whores, piec'd with some witch?
I will be merry, 'faith 'tis true, sweet heart,
I am to marry?

Mal. Are you? you base Lord,
By —— I'll pistol thee.

Vit. A roaring whore?
Take heed, there's a Correction-house hard by:
You ha' learn'd this o' your swordman, that I warn'd you of,
Your Fencers, and your drunkards: but whereas
You upbraid me with oaths, why I must tell you
I ne'er promis'd you marriage, nor have vow'd,
But said I lov'd you, long as you remain'd
The woman I expected, or you swore,
And how you have fail'd of that (sweet-heart) you know.
You fain would shew your power, but fare you well,
I'll keep no more faith with an infidel.

Mal. Nor I my bosome for a Turk: d' ye hear?
Goe, and the devil take me, if ever
I see you more: I was too true.

Vit. Come, pish:
That devil take the falsest of us two.

Mal. Amen.

Vit. You are an ill Clark; and curse your self:
Madness transports you: I confess, I drew you
Unto my Will: but you must know that must not
Make me doat on the habit of my sin.
I will, to settle you to your content,
Be master of my word: and yet he ly'd
That told you I was marrying, but in thought:
But will you slave me to your tyranny
So cruelly I shall not dare to look
Or speak to other women? make me not
Your smock's Monopolie: come, let's be friends:
Look, here's a Jewel for thee: I will come
At night, and—

Mal. What 'yfaith: you shall not, Sir.

Vit. 'Faith, and troth, and verily, but I will.

Mal. Half drunk, to make a noise, and rail?

Vit. No, no,
Sober, and dieted for the nonce: I am thine,
I have won the day.

Mal. The night (though) shall be mine. [Exeunt.

Scæna Quarta.

Enter Clara, and Bobadilla with Letters.

Cla. What said he, sirrah?

Bob. Little, or nothing: faith I saw him not,
Nor will not: he doth love a strumpet, Mistriss,
Nay, keeps her spitefully, under the Constables nose,
It shall be justified by the Gentleman
Your brothers Master that is now within
A practising: there are your Letters: come
You shall not cast your self away, while I live,
Nor will I venture my Right worshipful place
In such a business—here's your Mother, down:
And he that loves you: another 'gates fellow, I wish,
If you had any grace.

Enter Eugenia and Sayavedra.

Cla. Well rogue.

Bob. I'll in, to see Don Lucio manage, he'll make
A pretty piece of flesh, I promise you,
He does already handle his weapon finely. [Exit.

Eug. She knows your love, Sir, and the full allowance
Her Father and my self approve it with,
And I must tell you, I much hope it hath
Wrought some impression by her alteration;
She sighs, and saies, forsooth, and cries heigh-ho,
She'll take ill words o' th' Steward, and the Servants,
Yet answer affably, and modestly:
Things Sir, not usual with her: there she is,
Change some few words.

Say. Madam, I am bound t'ye;
How now, fair Mistriss, working?

Cla. Yes forsooth,
Learning to live another day.

Say. That needs not.

Cla. No forsooth: by my truly but it does,
We kn[o]w not what we may come to.

Eug. 'Tis strange.

Say. Come, I ha begg'd leave for you to play.

Cla. Forsooth
'Tis ill for a fair Lady to be idle.

Say. She had better be well-busied, I know that.
Turtle: me thinks you mourn, shall I sit by you?

Cla. If you be weary, Sir, you had best be gone
(I work not a true stitch) now you're my mate.

Say. If I be so, I must do more than side you.

Cla. Ev'n what you will, but tread me.

Say. Shall we bill?

Cla. Oh no, forsooth.

Say. Being so fair, my Clara,
Why d'ye delight in Black-work?

Cla. Oh White Sir,
The fairest Ladies like the blackest men:
I ever lov'd the colour: all black things
Are least subject to change.

Say. Why, I do love
A black thing too: and the most beauteous faces
Have oftnest of them: as the blackest eyes,
Jet-arched brows, such hair: I'll kiss your hand.

Cla. 'Twill hinder me my work Sir: and my Mother
Will chide me, if I do not do my taske.

Say. Your Mother, nor your Father shall chide: you
Might have a prettier taske, would you be rul'd,
And look with open eyes.

Cla. I stare upon you:
And broadly see you, a wondrous proper man,
Yet 'twere a greater taske for me to love you
Than I shall ever work Sir, in seven year,
—O' this stitching, I had rather feel
Two, than sow one:—this rogue h' as given me a stitch good faith sir: I shall prick you.
Clean cross my heart:

Say. In gooder faith, I would prick you againe.

Cla.] Now you grow troublesome: pish, the man is foolish.

Say. Pray wear these trifles.

Cla. Neither you, nor trifles,
You are a trifle, wear your self, Sir, out,
And here no more trifle the time away.

Say. Come; you're deceiv'd in me, I will not wake,
Nor fast, nor dye for you.

Cla. Goose, be not you deceiv'd,
I cannot like, nor love, nor live with you,
Nor fast, nor watch, nor pray for you.

Eug. Her old fit.

Say. Sure this is not the way, nay, I will break
Your melancholly.

Cla. I shall break your pate then,
Away, you sanguine scabbard.

Eug. Out upon thee
Thou'lt break my heart, I am sure.

Enter Alvarez, Piorato, Lucio, and Bobadilla.

Say. She's not yet tame.

Alv. On Sir; put home: or I shall goad you here
With this old Fox of mine, that will bite better:
Oh, the brave age is gone; in my young daies
A Chevalier would stock a needle point
Three times together: strait i' th' hams?
Or shall I give ye new Garters?

Bob. Faith old Master.
There's little hope: the linnen sure was danck
He was begot in, he's so faint, and cold: [2 Torches ready.
Ev'n send him to Toledo, there to study,
For he will never fadge with these Toledos;
Bear ye up your point there; pick his teeth: Oh base.

Pio. Fie: you are the most untoward Scholar: bear
Your body gracefully: what a posture's there?
You lie too open-breasted.

Luc. Oh!

Pio. You'ld never
Make a good States-man:

Luc. Pray no more.
I hope to breathe in peace, and therefore need not
The practise of these dangerous qualities,
I do not mean to live by't; for I trust
You'll leave me better able.

Alv. Not a Button:
Let's goe get us a new heir.

Eug. I by my troth: your daughter's as untoward.

Alv. I will break thee bone by bone, and bake thee,
E'r I'll ha' such a wooden Son to inherit:
Take him a good knock; see how that will work.

Pio. Now, for your life Signior:

Luc. Oh: alas, I am kill'd
My eye is out: look Father: Zancho:
I'll play the fool no more thus, that I will not.

Cla. 'Heart: ne'r a rogue in Spain shall wrong my brother
Whilst I can hold a sword.

Pio. Hold Madam, Madam.

Alv. Clara.

Eug. Daughter.

Bo. Mistress.

Pio. Bradamante.
Hold, hold I pray.

Alv. The devil's in her, o'the other side sure,
There's Gold for you: they have chang'd what ye calt's:
Will no cure help? well I have one experiment,
And if that fail, I'll hang him, then here's an end on't.
Come you along with me: and you Sir: [Exeunt. Alv. Eug. Luc. Bob.

Bob. Now are you going to drowning.

Say. I'll ev'n along with ye: she's too great a Lady
For me, and would prove more then my match. [Exit.

Cla. You'r he spoke of Vitelli to the Stewerd:

Pio. Yes, and I thank you, you have beat me for't.

Cla. But are you sure you do not wrong him?

Pio. Sure?
So sure, that if you please venture your self
I'll shew you him, and his Cokatrice together,
And you shall hear 'em talk.

Cla. Will you? by —— Sir
You shall endear me ever: and I ask
You mercy.

Pio. You were somewhat boystrous.

Cla. There's Gold to make you amends: and for this pains,
I'll gratifie you farther: I'll but masque me
And walk along with ye: faith let's make a night on't. [Exit.

Scæna Quinta.

Enter Alguazier, Pachieco, Mendoza, Metaldi, Lazarillo.

Alg. Come on my brave water-Spaniels, you that hunt Ducks in the night: and hide more knavery under your gownes than your betters: observe my precepts, and edifie by my doctrine: at yond corner will I set you; if drunkards molest the street, and fall to brabling, knock you down the malefactors, and take you up their cloaks and hats, and bring them to me: they are lawful prisoners, and must be ransom'd ere they receive liberty: what else you are to execute upon occasion, you sufficiently know, and therefore I abbreviate my Lecture.

Met. We are wise enough, and warm enough.

Men. Vice this night shall be apprehended.

Pach. The terror of rug-gownes shall be known: and our bil
Discharge us of after recknings.

Laz. I will do any thing, so I may eat.

Pach. Lazarillo, We will spend no more; now we are
grown worse, we will live better: let us follow our calling
faithfully.

Alg. Away, then the Common-wealth is our Mistress: and who
Would serve a common Mistress, but to gain by her? [Exeunt.

---

Actus Quartus. Scæna Prima.

Enter Vitelli, Lamorall, Genevora, Anastro, and two Pages with lights.

Lam. I pray you see the Masque, my Lord.

Ana. 'Tis early night yet.

Gen. O if it be so late, take me along:
I would not give advantage to ill tongues
To tax my being here, without your presence
To be my warrant.

Vit. You might spare this, Sister,
Knowing with whom I leave you; one that is
By your allowance, and his choice, your Servant,
And may my councel and perswasion work it,
Your husband speedily: For your entertainment
My thanks; I will not rob you of the means
To do your Mistriss some acceptable service
In waiting on her to my house.

Gen. My Lord.

Vit. As you respect me, without farther trouble
Retire, and fast those pleasures prepar'd for you,
And leave me to my own ways.

Lam. When you please Sir. [Exeunt.

Scæna Secunda.

Enter Malroda, and Alguazier.

Mal. You'll leave my Chamber?

Alg. Let us but bill once,
My Dove, my Sparrow, and I, with my office
Will be thy slaves for ever.

Mal. Are you so hot?

Alg. But tast the difference of a man in place,
You'l find that when authority pricks him forward,
Your Don, nor yet your Diego comes not near him
To do a Lady right: no men pay dearer
For their stoln sweets, than we: three minutes trading
Affords to any [si]nner a protection
For three years after: think on that, I burn;
But one drop of your bounty.

Mal. Hence you Rogue,
Am I fit for you? is't not grace sufficient
To have your staff, a bolt to bar the door
Where a Don enters, but that you'l presume
To be his taster?

Alg. Is no more respect
Due to [t]his rod of justice?

Mal. Do you dispute?
Good Doctor of the Dungeon, not a word more,
—If you do, my Lord Vitelli knows it.

Alg. Why I am big enough to answer him,
Or any man.

Mal. 'Tis well. [Vitelli within.

Vit. Malroda.

Alg. How?

Mal. You know the voice, and now crowch like a Cur,
Tane worrying sheep: I now could have you guelded
For a Bawd rampant: but on this submission
For once I spare you.

Alg. I will be reveng'd—
My honorable Lord.

Enter Vitel.

Vit. There's for thy care.

Alg. I am mad, stark mad: proud Pagan scorn her host?
I would I were but valiant enough to kick her,

Enter Piorato, and Clara above.

I'l[d] wish no manhood else.

Mal. What's that?

Alg. I am gone. [Exit.

Pio. You see I have kept my word.

Cla. But in this object
Hardly deserv'd my thanks.

Pio. Is there ought else
You will command me?

Cla. Only your sword
Which I must have: nay willingly I yet know
To force it, and to use it.

Pio. 'Tis yours Lady.

Cla. I ask no other guard.

Pio. If so I leave you:
And now, if that the Constable keep his word,
A poorer man may chance to gull a Lord. [Exit.

Mal. By this good —— you shall not.

Vit. By this ——
I must, and will, Malroda; What do you make
A stranger of me?

Mal. I'll be so to you,
And you shall find it.

Vit. These are your old arts
T'endear the game you know I come to hunt for,
Which I have born too coldly.

Mal. Do so still,
For if I heat you, hang me.

Vit. If you do not
I know who'll starve for't: why, thou shame of women,
Whose folly, or whose impudence is greater
Is doubtful to determine; this to me
That know thee for a whore.

Mal. And made me one,
Remember that.

Vit. Why should I but grow wise
And tye that bounty up, which nor discretion
Nor honor can give way to; thou wouldst be
A Bawd e're twenty, and within a Month
A barefoot, lowzie, and diseased whore,
And shift thy lodgings oftner than a rogue
That's whipt from post to post.

Mal. Pish: all our Colledge
Know you can rail well in this kind.

Cla. For me
He never spake so well.

Vit. I have maintain'd thee
The envy of great fortunes, made thee shine
As if thy name were glorious: stuck thee full
Of jewels, as the firmament of Stars,
And in it made thee so remarkable
That it grew questionable, whether virtue poor,
Or vice so set forth as it is in thee,
Were even by modesties self to be preferr'd,
And am I thus repaid?

Mal. You are still my debtor;
Can this (though true) be weigh'd with my lost honor,
Much less my faith? I have liv'd private to you,
And but for you, had ne'r known what lust was,
Nor what the sorrow for't.

Vit. 'Tis false.

Mal. 'Tis true,
But how return'd by you, thy whole life being
But one continued act of lust, and Shipwrack
Of womens chastities.

Vit. But that I know
That she that dares be damn'd, dares any thing,
I should admire thy tempting me: but presume not
On the power you think you hold o're my affections,
It will deceive you: yield, and presently
Or by the inflamed blood, which thou must quench
I'll make a forcible entry.

Mal. Touch me not:
You know I have a throat, —— if you do
I will cry out a rape, or sheath this here,
Ere I'll be kept, and us'd for Julip-water
T'allay the heat which lushious meats and wine
And not desire hath rais'd.

Vit. A desperate devil,
My blood commands my reason; I must take
Some milder way.

Mal. I hope (dear Don) I fit you.
The night is mine, although the day was yours
You are not fasting now: this speeding trick
Which I would as a principle leave to all,
That make their maintenance out of their own Indies,
As I do now; my good old mother taught me,
Daughter, quoth she, contest not with your lover
His stomach being empty; let wine heat him,
And then you may command him: 'tis a sure one:
His looks shew he is coming.

Vit. Come this needs not,
Especially to me: you know how dear
I ever have esteemed you.

Cla. Lost again.

Vit. That any sight of yours, hath power to change
My strongest resolution, and one tear
Sufficient to command a pardon from me,
For any wrong from you, which all mankind
Should kneel in vain for.

Mal. Pray you pardon those
That need your favor, or desire it.

Vit. Prethee.
Be better temper'd: I'll pay as a forfeit
For my rash anger, this purse fil'd with Gold.
Thou shalt have servants, gowns, attires, what not?
Only continue mine.

Mal. 'Twas this I fish'd for.

Vit. Look on me, and receive it.

Mal. Well, you know
My gentle nature, and take pride t'abuse it:
You see a trifle pleases me, we are friends;
This kiss, and this confirms it.

Cla. With my ruine.

Mal. I'll have this diamond, and this pearl.

Vit. They are yours.

Mal. But will you not, when you have what you came for,
Take them from me to morrow? 'tis a fashion
Your Lords of late have us'd.

Vit. But I'll not follow.

Cla. That any man at such a rate as this
Should pay for his repentance.

Vit. Shall we to bed now?

Mal. Instantly, Sweet; yet now I think on't better
There's something first that in a word or two
I must acquaint you with.

Cla. Can I cry ay me,
To this against my self? I'll break this match,
Or make it stronger with my blood. [Descends.

Enter Alguazier, Piorato, Pacchieco, Metaldi, Mendoza, Lazarillo, &c.

Alg. I am yours.
A Don's not priviledg'd here more than your self,
Win her, and wear her.

Pio. Have you a Priest ready?

Alg. I have him for thee, Lad; and when I have
Married this scornful whore to this poor gallant,
She will make suit to me; there is a trick
To bring a high-pris'd wench upon her knees:
For you my fine neat Harpyes stretch your tallons
And prove your selves true night-Birds.

Pach. Take my word
For me and all the rest.

Laz. If there be meat
Or any banquet stirring, you shall see
How I'll bestow my self.

Alg. When they are drawn,
Rush in upon 'em: all's fair prize you light on:
I must away: your officer may give way
To the Knavery of his watch, but must not see it.
You all know where to find me. [Exit.

Met. There look for us.

Vit. Who's that?

Mal. My Piorato, welcome, welcome:
Faith had you not come when you did my Lord
Had done I know not what to me.

Vit. I am gul'd,
First cheated of my Jewels, and then laug[h]'d at:
Sirha, what makes you here?

Pio. A business brings me,
More lawful than your own.

Vit. How's that, you slave?

Mal. He's such, that would continue her a whore
Whom he would make a wife of.

Vit. I'll tread upon
The face you doat on, strumpet.

Enter Clara.

Pach. Keep the peace there.

Vit. A plot upon my life too?

Met. Down with him.

Cla. Show your old valor, and learn from a woman;
One Eagle has a world of odds against
A flight of Dawes, as these are.

Pio. Get you off,
I'll follow instantly.

Pach. Run for more help there. [Exeunt all but Vit. and Clara.

Vit. Loss of my gold, and jewels, and the wench too
Afflicts me not so much, as th'having Clara
The witness of my weakness.

Cla. He turns from me,
And yet I may urge merit, since his life
Is made my second gift.

Vit. May I ne'r prosper
If I know how to thank her.

Cla. Sir, your pardon
For pressing thus beyond a Virgins bounds
Upon your privacies: and let my being
Like to a man, as you are, be th'excuse
Of my solliciting that from you, which shall not
Be granted on my part, although desir'd
By any other: Sir, you understand me,
And 'twould shew nobly in you, to prevent
From me a farther boldness, which I must
Proceed in, if you prove not merciful,
Though with my loss of blushes and good name.

Vit. Madam, I know your will, and would be thankful
If it were possible I could affect
The daughter of an enemy.

Cla. That fair false one
Whom with fond dotage you have long pursu'd
Had such a father: she to whom you pay
Dearer for your dishonor, than all titles
Ambitious men hunt for, are worth.

Vit. 'Tis truth.

Cla. Yet, with her, as a friend you still exchange
Health for diseases, and, to your disgrace,
Nourish the rivals to your present pleasures,
At your own charge, us'd as a property
To give a safe protection to her lust,
Yet share in nothing but the shame of it.

Vit. Grant all this so, to take you for a wife
Were greater hazard; for should I offend you
(As 'tis not easy still to please a woman)
You are of so great a spirit, that I must learn
To wear your petticoat, for you will have
My breeches from me.

Cla. Rather from this hour
I here abjure all actions of a man,
And will esteem it happiness from you
To suffer like a woman: love, true love
Hath made a search within me, and expell'd
All but my natural softness, and made perfect
That which my parents care could not begin.
I will show strength in nothing, but my duty,
And glad desire to please you, and in that
Grow every day more able.

Vit. Could this be,
What a brave race might I beget? I find
A kind of yielding; and no reason why
I should hold longer out: she's young, and fair,
And chast; for sure, but with her leave, the Devil
Durst not attempt her: Madam, though you have
A Soldiers arm, your lips appear as if
They were a Ladies.

Cla. They dare Sir, from you
Endure the tryal.

Vit. Ha: once more I pray you:
The best I ever tasted; and 'tis said
I have prov'd many, 'tis not safe I fear
To ask the rest now: well, I will leave whoring
And luck herein send me with her: worthiest Lady,
I'll wait upon you home, and by the way
(If ere I marry, as I'll not forswear it)
Tell you, you are my wife.

Cla. Which if you do,
From me all man-kind women, learn to woe. [Exeunt.

Scæna Tertia.

Enter Alguazier, Pachieco, Metaldi, Mendoza, Lazarillo.

Alg. A cloak? good purchase, and rich hangers? well,
We'll share ten Pistolets a man.

Laz. Yet still
I am monstrous hungry: could you not deduct
So much out of the gross sum, as would purchase
Eight loynes of Veal, and some two dozen of Capons?

Pach. O strange proportion for five.

Laz. For five? I have
A legion in my stomach that have kept
Perpetual fast these ten years: for the Capons,
They are to me but as so many black Birds:
May I but eat once, and be satisfied,
Let the fates call me, when my ship is fraught,
And I shall hang in peace.

Alg. Steal well to night,
And thou shalt feed to morrow; so now you are
Your selves again, I'll raise another watch
To free you from suspition: set on any
You meet with boldly: I'll not be far off,
T'assist you, and protect you. [Exit.

Met. O brave officer.

Enter Alvarez, Lucio, Bobadilla.

Pach. Would every ward had one but so well given,
And we would watch, for rug, in gowns of velvet.

Mend. Stand close, a prize.

Met. Satten, and gold Lace, Lads.

Alv. Why do'st thou hang upon me?

Luc. 'Tis so dark
I dare not see my way: for heaven sake father
Let us go home.

Bob. No, ev'n here we'll leave you:
Let's run away from him, my Lord.

Luc. Oh 'las.

Alv. Thou hast made me mad: and I will beat thee dead,
Then bray thee in a morter, and new mold thee,
But I will alter thee.

Bob. 'Twil never be:
He has been three days practising to drink,
Yet still he sips like to a waiting woman,
And looks as he were murdering of a fart
Among wild Irish swaggerers.

Luc. I have still
Your good word, Zancho, father.

Alv. Milk-sop, coward;
No house of mine receives thee: I disclaim thee,
Thy mother on her knees shall not entreat me
Hereafter to acknowledge thee.

Luc. Pray you speak for me.

Bo. I would; but now I cannot with mine honor.

Alv. There's only one course left, that may redeem thee,
Which is, to strike the next man that you meet,
And if we chance to light upon a woman,
Take her away, and use her like a man,
Or I will cut thy hamstrings.

Pach. This makes for us.

Alv. What do'st thou do now?

Luc. Sir, I am saying my prayers;
For being to undertake what you would have me,
I know I cannot live.

Enter Lamorall, Genevora, Anastro, and Pages with Lights.

Lam. Madam, I fear
You'll wish you had us'd your coach: your brothers house
Is yet far off.

Gen. The better sir: this walk
Will help digestion after your great supper,
Of which I have fed largely.

Alv. To your task,
Or else you know what follows:

Luc. I am dying:
Now Lord have mercy on me: by your favor,
Sir I must strike you.

Lam. For what cause?

Luc. I know not:
And I must likewise talk with that young Lady,
An hour in private.

Lam. What you must, is doubtful,
But I am certain Sir, I must beat you.

Luc. Help, help.

Alv. Not strike again?

Lam. How, Alvarez?

An. This for my Lord Vitellis love.

Pach. Break out,
And like true theeves, make prey on either side,
But seem to help the stranger.

Bob. Oh my Lord,
They have beat him on his knees.

Luc. Though I want courage:
I yet have a sons duty in me, and
Compassion of a fathers danger; that,
That wholly now possesses me.

Alv. Lucio.
This is beyond my hope.

Met. So Lazarillo,
Take up all boy: well done.

Pach. And now steal off
Closely and cunningly.

An. How? have I found you?
Why Gentlemen, are you mad, to make your selves
A prey to Rogues?

Lam. Would we were off.

Bob. Theeves, theeves.

Lam. Defer our own contention: and down with them.

Luc. I'll make you sure.

Bob. Now he plays the Devil.

Gen. This place is not for me. [Exit.

Luc. I'll follow her
Half of my pennance is past oe'r. [Exit.

Enter Alguazier, Assistant, and other Watches.

Alg. What noyse?
What tumult's there? keep the Kings peace I charge you.

Pach. I am glad he's come yet.

Alv. O, you keep good Guard
Upon the City, when men of our ranck
Are set upon in the streets.

Lam. The assistants
Shall hear on't be assur'd.

An. And if he be
That careful Governor he is reported,
You will smart for it.

Alg. Patience, good Signiors:
Let me survey the Rascals: O, I know them,
And thank you for them: they are pilf'ring rogues
Of Andaluza that have perus'd
All Prisons in Castile: I dare not trust
The dungeon with them: no, I'll have them home
To my own house.

Pach. We had rather go to prison.

Alg. Had you so dog-bolts? yes, I know you had:
You there would use your cunning fingers on
The simple locks; you would: but I'll prevent you.

Lam. My Mistriss lost, good night. [Exit.

Bob. Your Son's gone too,
What should become of him?

Alv. Come of him, what will:
Now he dares fight, I care not: I'll to bed,
Look to your prisoners Alguazier. [Exit with Boba.

Alg. All's clear'd:
Droop not for one disaster: let us hug,
And triumph in our knaveries.

Assist. This confirms
What was reported of him.

Met. 'Twas done bravely.

Alg. I must a little glory in the means
We Officers have, to play the Knaves, and safely:
How we break through the toyles, pitch'd by the Law,
Yet hang up them that are far less delinquents:
A simple shopkeeper's carted for a bawd
For lodging (though unwittingly) a smock-Gamster:
Where, with rewards, and credit I have kept
Malroda in my house, as in a cloyster,
Without taint, or suspition.

Pach. But suppose
The Governor should know't?

Alg. He? good Gentleman,
Let him perplex himself with prying into
The measures in the market, and th'abuses
The day stands guilty of: the pillage of the night
Is only mine, mine own fee simple;
Which you shall hold from me, tenants at will,
And pay no rent for't.

Pach. Admirable Landlord.

Alg. Now we'll go search the Taverns, commit such
As we find drinking: and be drunk our selves
With what we take from them: these silly wretches
Whom I for form sake only have brought hither
Shall watch without, and guard us.

Assist. And we will
See you safe lodg'd, most worthy Alguazier,
With all of you his comrads.

Met. 'Tis the Governor.

Alg. We are betray'd?

Assist. My guard there; bind them fast:
How men in high place and authority
Are in their lives and estimations wrong'd
By their subordinate Ministers! yet such
They cannot but imploy: wrong'd justice finding
Scarce one true servant in ten officers.
'T'expostulate with you, were but to delay
Your crimes due punishment, which shall fall upon you
So speedily, and severely, that it shall
Fright others by th'example: and confirm
How ever corrupt Officers may disgrace
Themselves, 'tis not in them to wrong their place
Bring them away.

Alg. We'll suffer nobly yet,
And like to Spanish Gallants.

Pach. And we'll hang so.

Laz. I have no stomach to it: but I'll endeavor. [Exeunt.

Scæna Quarta.

Enter Lucio, and Genevora.

Gen. Nay you are rude; pray you forbear, you offer now
More than the breeding of a Gentleman
Can give you warrant for.

Luc. 'Tis but to kiss you,
And think not I'll receive that for a favour
Which was enjoyn'd me for a pennance, Lady.

Gen. You have met a gentle confessor, and for once
(So then you will rest satisfied) I vouchsafe it.

Luc. Rest satisfied with a kiss? why can a man
Desire more from a woman? is there any
Pleasure beyond it? may I never live
If I know what it is.

Gen. Sweet Innocence.

Luc. What strange new motions do I feel? my veins
Burn with an unknown fire: in every part
I suffer alteration: I am poyson'd,
Yet languish with desire again to tast it,
So sweetly it works on me.

Gen. I ne'r saw
A lovely man, till now.

Luc. How can this be?
She is a woman, as my mother is,
And her I have kiss'd often, and brought off
My lips unscortch'd; yours are more lovely, Lady,
And so should be less hurtful: pray you vouchsafe
Your hand to quench the heat tane from your Lip,
Perhaps that may restore me.

Gen. Willingly.

Luc. The flame increases: if to touch you, burn thus,
What would more strict embraces do? I know not,
And yet methinks to die so, were to ascend
To heaven, through Paradise.

Gen. I am wounded too,
Though modesty forbids that I should speak
What ignorance makes him bold in: why do you fix
Your eyes so strongly on me?

Luc. Pray you stand still,
There is nothing else, that is worth the looking on:
I could adore you, Lady.

Gen. Can you love me?

Luc. To wait on you, in your chamber, and but touch
What you, by wearing it, have made divine,
Were such a happiness. I am resolved,
I'll sell my liberty to you for this glove,
And write my self your slave.

Enter Lamorall.

Gen. On easier terms,
Receive it as a friend.

Lam. How! giving favor!
I'll have it with his heart.

Gen. What will you do?

Luc. As you are merciful, take my life rather.

Gen. Will you depart with't so?

Lam. Do's that grieve you?

Gen. I know not: but even now you appear valiant.

Luc. 'Twas to preserve my father: in his cause
I could be so again.

Gen. Not in your own? Kneel to thy Rival and thine enemy?
Away unworthy creature, I begin
To hate my self, for giving entrance to
A good opinion of thee: for thy torment,
If my poor beauty be of any power,
Mayst thou doat on it desperately: but never
Presume to hope for grace, till thou recover
And wear the favor that was ravish'd from thee.

Lam. He wears my head too then.

Gen. Poor fool, farewell. [Exit.

Luc. My womanish soul, which hitherto hath govern'd
This coward flesh, I feel departing from me;
And in me by her beauty is inspir'd
A new, and masculine one: instructing me
What's fit to do or suffer; powerful love
That hast with loud, and yet a pleasing thunder
Rous'd sleeping manhood in me, thy new creature,
Perfect thy work so that I may make known
Nature (though long kept back) will have her own. [Exeunt.

---

Actus Quintus. Scæna Prima.

Enter Lamorall and Lucio.

Lam. CAn it be possible, that in six short hours
The subject still the same, so many habits
Should be remov'd? or this new Lucio, he
That yesternight was baffeld and disgrac'd,
And thank'd the man that did it, that then kneeld
And blubber'd like a woman, should now dare
On terms of honor seek reparation
For what he then appear'd not capable of?

Luc. Such miracles, men that dare do injuries
Live to their shames to see, and for punishment
And scourge to their proud follies.

Lam. Prethee leave me:
Had I my Page, or foot-man here to flesh thee,
I durst the better hear thee.

Luc. This scorn needs not:
And offer such no more.

Lam. Why say I should,
You'll not be angry?

Luc. Indeed I think I shall,
Would you vouchsafe to shew your self a Captain,
And lead a little farther, to some place
That's less frequented.

Lam. He looks pale.

Luc. If not,
Make use of this.

Lam. There's anger in his eyes too:
His gesture, voyce, behaviour, all new fashion'd;
Well, if it does endure in act the triall
Of what in show it promises to make good,
Ulysses Cyclops, Io's transformation,
Eurydice fetch from Hell, with all the rest
Of Ovids Fables, I'll put in your Creed;
And for proof, all incredible things may be,
Write down that Lucio, the coward Lucio,
The womanish Lucio fought.

Luc. And Lamorall,
The still imploy'd great duellist Lamorall,
Took his life from him.

Lam. 'Twill not come to that sure:
Methinks the only drawing of my Sword
Should fright that confidence.

Luc. It confirms it rather.
To make which good, know you stand now oppos'd
By one that is your Rival, one that wishes
Your name and title greater, to raise his;
The wrong you did, less pardonable than it is,
But your strength to defend it, more than ever
It was when justice friended it. The Lady
For whom we now contend, Genevora
Of more desert, (if such incomparable beauty
Could suffer an addition) your love
To Don Vitelli multipli'd, and your hate
Against my father and his house increas'd;
And lastly, that the Glove which you there wear,
To my dishonour, (which I must force from you)
Were dearer to you than your life.

Lam. You'l find
It is, and so I'll guard it:

Luc. All these must meet then
With the black infamy, to be foyl'd by one
That's not allowd a man: to help your valor,
That falling by your hand, I may, or dye,
Or win in this one single opposition
My Mistriss, and such honor as I may
Inrich my fathers Arms with.

Lam. 'Tis said Nobly;
My life with them are at the stake.

Luc. At all then. [Fight.

Lam. She's yours, this and my life too follow your fortune,
And give not only back that part, the looser
Scorns to accept of—

Luc. What's that?

Lam. My poor life,
Which do not leave me as a farther torment,
Having dispoil'd me of my Sword, mine honor,
Hope of my Ladies grace, fame, and all else
That made it worth the keeping.

Luc. I take back
No more from you, than what you forc'd from me;
And with a worser title: yet think not
That I'll dispute this, as made insolent
By my success, but as one equal with you,
If so you will accept me; that new courage,
Or call it fortune if you please, that is
Conferr'd upon me by the only sight
Of fair Genevora, was not bestow'd on me
To bloody purposes: nor did her command
Deprive me of the happiness to see her
But till I did redeem her favor from you;
Which only I rejoyce in, and share with you
In all you suffer else.

Lam. This curtesie
Wounds deeper than your Sword can, or mine own;
Pray you make use of either, and dispatch me.

Luc. The barbarous Turk is satisfied with spoil;
And shall I, being possest of what I came for,
Prove the more Infidel?

Lam. You were better be so,
Than publish my disgrace, as 'tis [t]he custom,
And which I must expect.

Luc. Judge better on me:
I have no tongue to trumpet mine own praise
To your dishonor: 'tis a bastard courage
That seeks a name out that way, no true born one;
Pray you be comforted, for by all goodness
But to her virtuous self, the best part of it,
I never will discover on what terms
I came by these: which yet I take not from you,
But leave you in exchange of them, mine own,
With the desire of being a friend; which if
You will not grant me, but on farther trial
Of manhood in me, seek me when you please,
(And though I might refuse it with mine honor)
Win them again, and wear them: so good morrow. [Exit.

Lam. I ne'r knew what true valor was till now;
And have gain'd more by this disgrace, than all
The honors I have won: they made me proud,
Presumptuous of my fortune; a mere beast,
Fashion'd by them, only to dare and do:
Yielding no reasons for my wilful actions
But what I stuck on my Swords point, presuming
It was the best Revenew. How unequal
Wrongs well maintain'd makes us to others, which
Ending with shame teach us to know our selves,
I will think more on't.

Enter Vitelli.

Vit. Lamorall.

Lam. My Lord?

Vit. I came to seek you.

Lam. And unwillingly;
You ne'r found me tll now: your pleasure Sir?

Vit. That which will please thee friend: thy vowd love to me
Shall now be put in action: means is offer'd
To use thy good Sword for me; that which still
Thou wearst, as if it were a part of thee.
Where is it?

Lam. 'Tis chang'd for one more fortunate:
Pray you enquire not how.

Vit. Why, I ne'r thought
That there was musick in't, but ascribe
The fortune of it to the arm.

Lam. Which is grown weaker too. I am not (in a word)
Worthy your friendship: I am one new vanquish'd,
Yet shame to tell by whom.

Vit. But I'll tell thee
'Gainst whom thou art to fight, and there redeem
Thy honor lost, if there be any such:
The King, by my long suit, at length is pleas'd
That Alvarez and my self, with eithers Second,
Shall end the difference between our houses,
Which he accepts of, I make choice of thee;
And where you speak of a disgrace, the means
To blot it out, by such a publick trial
Of thy approved valor, will revive
Thy antient courage. If you imbrace it do;
If not, I'll seek some other.

Lam. As I am
You may command me.

Vit. Spoke like that true friend
That loves not only for his private end. [Exeunt.

Scæna Secunda.

Enter Genevora, with a Letter and Bobadilla.

Gen. This from Madona Clara?

Bob. Yes, an't please you.

Gen. Alvarez daughter?

Bob. The same, Lady.

Gen. She,
That sav'd my brothers life?

Bob. You are still in the right,
She wil'd me wait your walking forth: and knowing
How necessary a discreet wise man
Was in a business of such weight, she pleas'd
To think on me: it may be in my face
Your Ladyship, not acquainted with my wisdom,
Finds no such matter: what I am, I am;
Thought's free, and think you what you please.

Gen. 'Tis strange.

Bob. That I should be wise, Madam?

Gen. No, thou art so;
There's for thy pains: and prethee tell thy Lady
I will not fail to meet her: I'll receive
Thy thanks and duty in thy present absence:
Farewell, farewell, I say, now thou art wise. [Exit Bob.
She writes here, she hath something to impart
That may concern my brothers life; I know not,
But general fame does give her out so worthy,
That I dare not suspect her: yet wish Lucio,

Enter Lucio.

Were Master of her mind: but fie upon't;
Why do I think on him? see, I am punish'd for it,
In his unlook'd for presence: Now I must
Endure another tedious piece of Courtship,
Would make one forswear curtesie.

Luc. Gracious Madam,
The sorrow paid for your just anger towards me
Arising from my weakness, I presume
To press into your presence, and despair not
An easie pardon.

Gen. He speaks sence: oh strange.

Luc. And yet believe, that no desire of mine,
Though all are too strong in me, had the power
For their delight, to force me to infringe
What you commanded, it being in your part
To [l]essen your great rigor when you please,
And mine to suffer with an humble patience
What you'l impose upon it.

Gen. Courtly too.

Luc. Yet hath the poor, and contemn'd Lucio, Madam,
(Made able only by his hope to serve you)
Recover'd what with violence, not justice,
Was taken from him: and here at your feet
With these, he could have laid the conquer'd head
Of Lamorall ('tis all I say of him)
For rudely touching that, which as a relique
I ever would have worship'd, since 'twas yours.

Gen. Valiant, and every thing a Lady could
Wish in her servant.

Luc. All that's good in me,
That h[e]avenly love, the opposite to base lust,
Which would have all men worthy, hath created;
Which being by your beams of beauty form'd,
Cherish as your own creature.

Gen. I am gone
Too far now to dissemble: rise, or sure
I must kneel with you too: let this one kiss
Speak the rest for me: 'tis too much I do,
And yet, if chastity would, I could wish more.

Luc. In overjoying me, you are grown sad;
What is it Madam? by ——
There's nothing that's within my nerves (and yet
Favour'd by you, I should as much as man)
But when you please, now or on all occasions
You can think of hereafter, but you may
Dispose of at your pleasure.

Gen. If you break
That oath again, you loose me. Yet so well
I love you, I shall never put you to't;
And yet forget it not: rest satisfied
With that you have receiv'd now: there are eyes
May be upon us, till the difference
Between our friends are ended: I would not
Be seen so private with you.

Luc. I obey you.

Gen. But let me hear oft from you, and remember
I am Vitellies Sister.

Luc. What's that Madam?

Gen. Nay nothing, fare you well: who feels loves fire,
Would ever ask to have means to desire. [Exeunt.

Scæna Tertia.

Enter Assistente, Sayavedra, Anastro, Herald, Attendants.

Assist. Are they come in?

H[e]r. Yes.

Assist. Read the Proclamation,
That all the people here assembled may
Have satisfaction, what the Kings dear love,
In care of the Republick, hath ordained;
Attend with silence: read aloud.

Herald Reads.

Forasmuch as our high and mighty Master, Philip, the potent and most Catholick King of Spain, hath not only in his own Royal person, been long, and often sollicited, and grieved, with the deadly and [uncurable] hatred, sprung up betwixt the two antient and most [honorable] descended Houses of these his two dearly and equally beloved Subjects, Don Ferdinando de Alvarez, and Don Pedro de Vitelli: (all which in vain his Majesty hath often endeavored to reconcile and qualifie:) But that also through the debates, quarrels, and outrages daily arising, falling, and flowing from these great heads, his publick civil Government is seditiously and barbarously molested and wounded, and many of his chief Gentry (no less tender to his Royal Majesty then the very branches of his own sacred blood) spoyld, lost, and submerged, in the impious inundation and torrent of their still-growing malice: It hath therefore pleased His sacred Majesty, out of his infinite affection to preserve his Common-wealth, and general peace, from farther violation, (as a sweet and heartily loving father of his people) and on the earnest petitions of these arch-enemies, to Order, and ordain, that they b[e] ready, each with his well-chosen and beloved friend, armed at all points like Gentlemen, in the Castle of St. Jago, on this present Monday morning betwixt eight and nine of the clock, where (before the combattants be allowed to commence this granted Duel) This to be read aloud for the publick satisfaction of his Majesties well bel[o]ved Subjects.

'Save the King. [Drums within.

Say. Hark their Drums speak their insatiate thirst
Of blood, and stop their ears 'gainst pious peace,
Who gently whispering, implores their friendship!

Assist. Kings nor authority can master fate;
Admit 'em then, and blood extinguish hate.

Enter severally, Alvarez, and Lucio, Vitelli and Lamora[l].

Say. Stay, yet be pleas'd to think, and let not daring
Wherein men now adaies exceed even beasts,
And think themselves not men else, so transport you
Beyond the bounds of Christianity:
Lord Alvarez, Vitelli, Gentlemen,
No Town in Spain, from our Metropolis
Unto the rudest hovel, but is great
With your assured valors daily proofs:
Oh will you then, for a superfluous fame,
A sound of honor, which in these times, all
Like hereticks profess (with obstinacy)
But most erroneously venture your souls,
'Tis a hard task, through a Sea of blood
To sail, and land at Heaven?

Vit. I hope not
If justice be my Pilot: but my Lord,
You know, if argument, or time, or love,
Could reconcile, long since we had shook hands;
I dare protest, your breath cools not a vein
In any one of us, but blows the fire
Which nought but blood reciprocal can quench.

Alv. Vitelli, thou sayst bravely, and sayst right,
And I will kill thee for't, I love thee so.

Vit. Ha, ha, old man: upon thy death I'll build
A story (with this arm) for thy old wife
To tell thy daughter Clara seven years hence
As she sits weeping by a winters fire,
How such a time Vitelli slew her husband
With the same Sword his daughter favor'd him,
And lives, and wears it yet: Come Lamorall,
Redeem thy self.

Lam. Lucio, Genevora
Shall on this Sword receive thy bleeding heart,
For my presented hat, laid at her feet.

Luc. Thou talk'st well Lamorall, but 'tis thy head
That I will carry to her to thy hat:
Fie Father, I do cool too much.

Alv. Oh boy:
Thy fathers true Son:
Beat Drums,—and so good morrow to your Lordship.

Enter above Eugenia, Clara, Genevora.

Say. Brave resolutions.

Anast. Brave, and Spanish right.

Gen. Lucio.

Cla. Vitelli.

Eug. Alvarez.

Alv. How the devil
Got these Cats into th'gutter? my pusse too?

Eug. Hear us.

Gen. We must be heard.

Cla. We will be heard
Vitelli, look, see Clara on her knees
Imploring thy compassion: Heaven, how sternly
They dart their emulous eyes, as if each scorn'd
To be behind the other in a look!
Mother, death needs no Sword here: oh my Sister
(Fate fain would have it so) persuade, entreat,
A Ladies tears are silent Orators
(Or should be so at least) to move beyond
The honest tongu'd-Rhetorician:
Why will you fight? why do's an uncles death
Twenty year old, exceed your love to me
But twenty days? whose forc'd cause, and fair manner
You could not understand, only have heard.
Custom, that wrought so cunningly on nature
In me, that I forgot my sex, and knew not
Whether my body female were, or male,
You did unweave, and had the power to charm
A new creation in me, made me fear
To think on those deeds I did perpetrate,
How little power though you allow to me
That cannot with my sighs, my tears, my prayers
Move you from your own loss, if you should gain.

Vit. I must forget you Clara, 'till I have
Redeem'd my unkles blood, that brands my face
Like a pestiferous Carbuncle: I am blind
To what you do: deaf to your cries: and Marble
To all impulsive exorations.
When [o]n this point, I have perch'd thy fathers soul,
I'll tender thee this bloody reeking hand
Drawn forth the bowels of that murtherer:
If thou canst love me then, I'll marry thee,
And for thy father lost, get thee a Son;
On no condition else.

Assist. Most barbarous.

Say. Savage.

Anast. Irreligious.

Gen. Oh Lucio!
Be thou merciful: thou bear'st fewer years,
Art lately wean'd from soft eff[e]minacy,
A maidens manners, and a maidens heart
Are neighbors still to thee: be then more mild,
Proceed not to this combat; be'st thou desperate
Of thine own life? yet (dearest) pitty mine
Thy valour's not thine own, I gave it thee,
These eyes begot it, this tongue bred it up,
This breast would lodge it: do not use my gifts
To mine own ruine: I have made thee rich,
Be not so thankless, to undo me for't.

Luc. Mistriss, you know I do not wear a vein.
I would not rip for you, to do you service:
Life's but a word, a shadow, a melting dream,
Compar'd to essential, and eternal honor.
Why, would you have me value it beyond
Your b[r]other: if I first cast down my sword
May all my body here, be made one wound,
And yet my soul not find heaven thorough it.

Alv. You would be catter-walling too, but peace,
Go, get you home, and provide dinner for
Your Son, and me: wee'll be exceeding merry:
Oh Lucio, I will have thee cock of all
The proud Vitellies that do live in Spain:
Fie, we shall take cold: hunch:——I am hoarse
Already.

Lam. How your Sister whets my spleen!
I could eat Lucio now:

Gen. Vitelli, Brother,
Ev'n for your Fathers soul, your uncles blood,
As you do love my life: but last, and most
As you respect your own Honor, and Fame,
Throw down your sword; he is most valiant
That herein yields first.

Vit. Peace, you fool.

Cla. Why Lucio,
Do thou begin; 'tis no disparagement:
He's elder, and thy better, and thy valor
Is in his infancy.

Gen. Or pay it me,
To whom thou ow'st it: Oh, that constant time
Would but go back a week, then Lucio
Thou would'st not dare to fight.

Eug. Lucio, thy Mother,
Thy Mother begs it: throw thy sword down first.

Alv. I'll throw his head down after then.

Gen. Lamorall.
You have often swore you'ld be commanded by me.

Lam. Never to this: your spight, and scorn Genevora,
Has lost all power in me:

Gen. Your hearing for six words.

Ass. Say. An. Strange obstinacy!

Al. Vit. Lu. Lam. We'll stay no longer.

Cla. Then by thy oath Vitelli,
Thy dreadfu[l] oath, thou wouldst return that Sword
When I should ask it, give it to me, now,
This instant I require it.

Gen. By thy vow,
As dreadful Lucio, to obey my will
In any one thing I would watch to challenge,
I charge thee not to strike a stroak: now he
Of our two brothers that loves perjury
Best, and dares first be damn'd, infringe his vow.

Say. Excellent Ladies.

Vit. Pish, you tyrannize.

Luc. We did equivocate.

Alv. On.

Cla. Then Lucio,
So well I love my husband, for he is so,
(Wanting but ceremony) that I pray
His vengeful sword may fall upon thy head
Succesfully for false-hood to his Sister.

Gen. I likewise pray (Vitelli) Lucio's sword
(Who equally is my husband as thou hers)
May find thy false heart, that durst gage thy faith,
And durst not keep it.

Assist. Are you men, or stone.

Alv. Men, and we'll prove it with our swords:

Eug. Your hearing for six words, and we have done,
Zancho come forth—we'll fight our challenge too:
Now speak your resolutions.

[Enter Bob[a]dilla with two swords and a Pistol.

Gen. These they are,
The first blow given betwixt you, sheathes these swords
In one anothers bosomes.

Eug. And rogue, look
You at that instant do discharge that Pistol
Into my breast: if you start back, or quake,
I'll stick you like a Pig.

Alv. —Hold, you are mad.

Gen. This we said: and by our hope of bliss
This we will do: speak your intents.

Cla. Gen. Strike.

Eug. Shoot.

A[l]. Vit. L. La. Hold, hold: all friends.

Assist. Come down.

Alv. These devilish women
Can make men friends and enemies when they list.

Say. A gallant undertaking and a happy;
Why this is noble in you: and will be
A welcomer present to our Master Philip
Than the return from his Indies.

Enter Clara, Genevora, Eugenia, and Bobadilla.

Cla. Father, your blessing.

Alv. Take her: if ye bring not
Betwixt you, boys that will find out new worlds,
And win 'em too, I'm a false Prophet.

Vit. Brother.
There is a Sister, long divided streams
Mix now at length, by fate.

Bob. I am not regarded: I was the careful Steward that provided these Instruments of peace, I put the longest weapon in your Sisters hand, (my Lord) because she was the shortest Lady: For likely the shortest Ladies love the longest —— men: And for mine own part, I could have discharged it: my Pistol is no ordinary Pistol, it has two ramming bullets; but thought I, why should I shoot my two bullets into my old Lady? if they had gone, I would not have staid long after: I would ev'n have died too, bravely y'faith, like a Roman Steward: hung my self in mine own chain, and there had been a story of Bobadilla, Spindola, Zancho, for after ages to lament: hum: I perceive, I am not only not regarded, but also not rewarded.

Alv. Prethee peace: 'shalt have a new chain, next Saint Jaques day, or this new gilt:

Bob. I am satisfied: let virtue have her due: And yet I am melancholy upon this atonement: pray heaven the State rue it not: I would my Lord Vitellie's Steward, and I could meet: they should find it should cost 'em a little more to make us friends: well, I will forswear wine, and women for a year: and then I will be drunk to morrow, and run a whoring like a dog with a broken bottle at's tail; then will I repent next day, and forswear 'em again more vehemently: be forsworn next day again, and repent my repentance: for thus a melancholy Gentleman doth, and ought to live.

Assist. Nay, you s[h]all dine with me: and afterward
I'll with ye to the King: But first, I will
Dispatch the Castles business, that this day
May be compleat. Bring forth the malefactors.

Enter Alguazier, Pachieco, Metaldi, Mendoza, Lazaril, Piorato, Malroda, and Guard.

You Alguazier, the Ringleader of these
Poor fellows, are degraded from your office,
You must return all stolen goods you receiv'd,
And watch a twelve month without any pay:
This, if you fail of, (all your goods confiscate)
You are to be whipt, and sent into the Gallies.

Alg. I like all, but restoring that Catholique Doctrine.
I do dislike: Learn all ye officers
By this to live uprightly (if you can.) [Exit.

Assist. You Cobler, to t[r]anslate your manners new,
Are doom'd to th' Cloisters of the Mendicants,
With this your brother, botcher, there for nothing
To cobble, and heel hose for the poor Friers,
Till they allow you pennance for sufficient,
And your amendment; then you shall be freed,
And may set up again.

Pach. Mendoza, come,
Our souls have trode awry in all mens sight,
We'll underlay 'em, till they go upright. [Exe. Pach. and Mend.

Assist. Smith, in those shackles you for your hard heart
Must lie by th' heels a year.

Met. I have shod your horse, my Lord. [Exit.

Assist. Away: for you, my hungry white-loaf'd face,
You must to th' Gallies, where you shall be sure
To have no more bits, than you shall have blows.

Laz. Well, though herrings want, I shall have rowes.

Assist. Signior, you have prevented us, and punish'd
Your selfe severelier than we would have done.
You have married a whore: may she prove honest.

Pio. 'Tis better, my Lord, than to marry an honest woman,
That may prove a whore.

Vit. 'Tis a hansome wench: and thou canst keep her tame
I'll send you what I promis'd.

Pio. Joy to your Lordships.

Alv. He[re] may all Ladies learn, to make of foes
The perfect'st friends: and not the perfect'st foes
Of dearest friends, as some do now a daies.

Vit. Behold the power of love, to nature lost
By custome irrecoverably, past the hope
Of friends restoring, Love hath here retriv'd
To her own habit, made her blush to see
Her so long monstrous Metamorphoses,
May strange affairs never have worse success. [Exeunt.