[SCENE 3.]
Enter Constantine, Katherine, Ite,
Vandercleeve, with others.
Const. Lord Vandercleeve, go Lord Ambassadour
From us to the renowmed Duke of Saxon,
And know his highnesse reason and intent
Whie being (of late) with such importunate suite
Betroth'd to our faire sister Dowager
Of this our Dukedome, he doth now protract
The time he urged with such speede of late
His honourd nuptiall rites to celebrate.
Kath. But, good my Lord, temper your Ambassie
With such respective termes to my renowme
That I be cleer'd of all immodest haste
To have our promist nuptials consummate;
For his affects (perhaps) follow the season,
Hot with the summer then, now colde with winter:
And Dames (though nere so forward in desire)
Must suffer men to blowe the nuptiall fire.
Vander. Madam, your name (in urging his intent)
Shall not be usd, but your right princely brothers;
Who, knowing it may breede in vulgar braines
(That shall give note to this protraction)
Unjust suspition of your sacred vertues,
And other reasons touching the estate
Of both their famous Dukedomes, sendeth mee
To be resolv'd of his integritie.
Const. To that end go, my honourable Lord,
Commend me and my sister to his love
(If you perceive not he neglects our owne)
And bring his princelie resolution.
Kat. Commend not me by any meanes, my lord,
Unlesse your speedie graunted audience
And kind entreatie make it requisite,
For honour rules my nuptiall appetite.
[Exeunt.
Finis Actus Primi.
Actus Secundus.
Enter Haunce, Lassingbergh and others following, serving in a Bancket.
Han. Come, sir, it is not your painting alone makes your absolute man; ther's as fine a hand to be requir'd in carrying a dish, and as sweete arte to be shew'd in't as in any maister peece whatsoever; better then as you painted the Doctor eene now with his nose in an Urinall.
Lass. Be quiet, sir, or ile paint you by and by eating my maisters comfets. [Exit.
_Enter Flores, Cassimeere, Alberdure, Cornelia, and Moth.
Flor_. Prince Alberdure, my great desire to aunswere
The greatnes of your birth and high deserts
With entertainment fitting to your state
Makes althings seem too humble for your presence.
Alber. Courteous S. Flores, your kinde welcome is
Worthy the presence of the greatest Prince,
And I am bound to good Earle Cassimeere
For honouring me with your desierd acquaintance.
Cass. Wilt please you therefore to draw neere, my lord?
Flo. Wilt please your grace to sit?
Alber. No, good S. Flores; I am heere admiring
The cunning strangenes of your antick worke:
For though the generall tract of it be rough
Yet is it sprinckled with rare flowers of Art.
See what a livelie piercing eye is here;
Marke the conveiance of this lovelie hand;
Where are the other parts of this rare cheeke?
Is it not pittie that they should be hid?
Flo. More pittie 'tis (my lord) that such rare art Should be obscur'd by needie povertie; Hee's but a simple man kept in my house.
Alber. Come, sirra, you are a practitioner, Lets have your judgement here.
Han. Will you have a stoole, sir?
Moth. I, and I thanke you too, sir.
Flo. Hath this young Gentleman such skill in drawing?
Alber. Many great maisters thinke him (for his yeares) Exceeding cunning.
Cass. Now, sir, what thinke you?
Moth. My Lord, I thinke more Art is shaddowed heere
Then any man in Germanie can shew
Except Earle Lassingbergh; and (in my conceipt)
This work was never wrought without his hand.
Flo. Earle Lassingbergh! Aye me, my jealous thoughts Suspect a mischiefe which I must prevent. Haunce, call Lucilia and the Painter strait, Bid them come both t'attend us at our feast.— Is not your Grace yet wearie of this object? Ile shew your Lordship things more woorth the sight Both for their substance and their curious Art.
Alber. Thankes, good sir Flores.
Flo. See, then, (my Lord) this Aggat that containes
The image of that Goddesse and her sonne,
Whom auncients held the Soveraignes of Love;
See naturally wrought out of the stone
(Besides the perfect shape of every limme,
Besides the wondrous life of her bright haire)
A waving mantle of celestiall blew
Imbroydering it selfe with flaming Starres.
Alber. Most excellent: and see besides (my Lords) How Cupids wings do spring out of the stone As if they needed not the helpe of Art.
Flo. My Lord, you see all sorts of Jewells heere,
I will not tire your grace with view of them;
Ile onely shew you one faire Aggat more,
Commended chiefely for the workmanship.
Alber. O excellent! this is the very face
Of Cassimeere: by viewing both at once,
Either I thinke that both of them do live
Or both of them are Images and dead.
Flo. My Lord, I feare I trouble you too long: Wilt please your Lordships taste th[e]is homely cates?
Corn. First (if it please you) give me leave to greete Your Princely hand with this unworthy gift, Yet woorthy since it represents your selfe.
Alber. What? my selfe, Lady? trust me it is pittie So faire a Jemme should hold so rude a picture.
Cor. My Lord, 'tis made a Jewell in your picture, Which otherwise had not deserv'd the name.
Alber. Kinde mistresse, kindly I accept your favor.
Enter Lassingbergh, Haunce and Lucilia.
Flo. Heere, you young gentleman; do you know this man?
[Exit Han.
Mot. Yes, signior Flores, 'tis Earle Lassingbergh.—My lord, what meane you to come this disguisd?
Lu. Aye me!
Lass. The foolish boye is mad; I am Cornelius. Earle Lassingbergh? I never heard of him.
Flo. O Lassingbergh, we know your villainie,
And thy dishonour (fond Lucilia).
Asse that I was, dull, sencelesse, grosse braynd fool
That dayly saw so many evident signes
Of their close dealings, winckings, becks and touches,
And what not? To enforce me to discerne,
Had I not been effatuate even by Fate.
Your presence, noble Lords (in my disgrace)
Doth deepely moove mee, and I heere protest
Most solemnly (in sight of heaven and you)
That if Earle Lassingbergh this day refuse
To make faire mends for this fowle trespasse done,
I will revenge me on his treacherous heart
Though I sustaine for him a thousand deaths.
Cass. This action (traitour Lassingbergh) deserves Great satisfaction or else great revenge.
Alber. Beleeve me, gallant Earle, your choice is faire. And worthy your most honourable love.
Lassin. My Lord, it greeves me to be thus unmaskt
And made ridiculous in the stealth of love;
But (for Lucilias honour) I protest
(Not for the desperate vowe that Flores made)
She was my wife before she knew my love,
By secret promise made in sight of heaven.
The marriage which he urgeth I accept,
But this compulsion and unkinde disgrace
Hath altered the condition of my love
And filde my heart with yrksome discontent.
Flor. My Lord, I must preferre mine honour still
Before the pleasure of the greatest Monarch,
Which since your Lordship seekes to gratifie
With just and friendly satisfaction,
I will endeavour to redeeme the thought
Of your affection and lost love to us.
Wilt please you therefore now to associate
This woorthy Prince at this unwoorthy banquet?
Alber. My Lord, let me intreate your company.
Lassin. Hold mee excusd, faire Prince; my grieved thoughts
Are farre unmeete for festivall delights:
Heere will I sit and feede on melancholie,
A humour (now) most pleasing to my taste.
Flor. Lucilia, waite the pleasure of your love. My Lord, now to the banquet: Daughter, commaund us a carowse of wine.
[Musick sounds awhile; and they sing
Boire a le Fountaine.
My Lord, I greete you with this first carowse,
And as this wine (the Elements sweete soule)
Shall grow in me to bloud and vitall spirit,
So shall your love and honor grow in me.
Alber. I pledge you, sir.
Cass. How like you him, my Lord?
Alber. Exceeding well. [Sing boyre a le fountaine.
Flor. Cornelia, do you serve the Prince with wine?
[Shee puts the powder into the Cup and gives it the Prince.
Alber. I thanke you, Lady; Earle Cassimeere, I greete you, and remember Your faire Hyanthe.
Cass. I thanke your honour. [Sing boyre a &c.
Flor. Fill my Lord Cassimere his right of wine.
Cass. Cornelia, I give you this dead carowse.
Corn. I thanke your Lordship. [Sing boyre a &c.
Alber. What smoake? smoake and fire.
Cass. What meanes your honour?
Alber. Powder, powder, Etna, sulphure, fier: quench it, quench it.
Flor. I feare the medcine hath distemper'd him.—O villaine Doctor!
Alber. Downe with the battlements, powre water on! I burne, I burne; O give me leave to flie Out of these flames, these fiers that compasse me. [Exit.
Cass. What an unheard off accident is this? Would God, friend Flores, t'had not happen'd here.
Flor. My Lord, 'tis sure some Planet[53] striketh him; No doubt the furie will away againe.
Cass. Ile follow him. [Exit.
Lass. What hellish spright ordain'd this hatefull feast That ends with horror thus and discontent?
Flor. I hope no daunger will succeede therein;
However, I resolve me to conceale it.—
My Lord, wilt please you now to change this habit,
And deck your selfe with ornaments more fit
For celebration of your marriage?
Lass. I, I, put on me what attire you will; My discontent, that dwels within me still.
[Exeunt