[SCENE 3.]
Enter Alphonso, Hardenbergh, Hoscherman, with others, &c.
Hard. The Ambassador of Brunswick (good my lord) Begins to murmure at his long delayes?
Hosc. Twere requisit your highnes wold dismisse him.
Alph. Who holds him? let him go.
Hard. My Lord, you know his message is more great
Then to depart so slightly without answer,
Urging the marriage that your grace late sought
With Katherine, sister to the Saxon Duke.
Hosk. Whom if your highnes should so much neglect
As to forsake his sister and delude him,
Considering already your olde jarre
With the stoute Lantsgrave, what harmes might ensue?
Alph. How am I crost? Hyanthe 'tis for thee That I neglect the Duchesse and my vowes.
Hard. My Lord, twere speciallie convenient Your grace would satisfie th'embassador.
Alph. Well, call him in.
Hosk. But will your Highnes then Forsake Hyanthe?
Alph. Nothing lesse, Hosk[erman].
Hosk. How will you then content th'embassadour?
Alph. I will delaie him with some kinde excuse.
Hard. What kinde excuse, my Lord?
Alph. For that let me alone; do thou but soothe What I my selfe will presently devise And I will send him satisfied away.
Hard. Be sure (my Lord) Ile soothe what ere you say.
Alph. Then let them come, we are provided for them.
Enter Vandercleeve the Ambassador attended.
My lord Ambassador, we are right sorrie
Our urgent causes have deferd you thus
In the dispatch of that we most desire.
But for your answer: know I am deterr'd
By many late prodigious ostents
From present consumation of the nuptials
Vowd twixt your beauteous Dutchesse and our selfe.
O what colde feare mens jealous stomacks feele
In that they most desire! suspecting still
'Tis eyther too too sweete to take effect
Or (in th'effect) must meete with some harshe chaunce
To intervent the joye of the successe.
The same wisht day (my Lord) you heere arriv'd
I bad Lord Hardenbergh commaund two horse
Should privately be brought for me and him,
To meete you on the waye for honours sake
And to expresse my joye of your repaire:
When (loe!) the horse I us'd to ride upon
(That would be gently backt at other times)
Now, offring but to mount him, stood aloft,
Flinging and bound. You know, Lord Hardenbergh.
Hard. Yes, my good Lord.
Alph. And was so strangely out of wonted rule That I could hardlie back him.
Hard. True, my liege; I stood amaz'd at it.
Hard. Well, yet I did, And riding (not a furlong) downe he fell.
Hard. That never heeretofore would trip with him.
Alph. Yet would I forward needs, but Hardenbergh.
More timorous then wise, as I supposed,
(For love so hardned me feare was my slave)
Did ominate such likelie ill to me
If I went forward, that with much enforcement
Of what might chance he drave me to retreat.
Didst thou not Hardenbergh.
Hard. I did, my Lord.
Alph. I warrant thou wilt say Thou never yet saw'st any man so loathe To be perswaded ill of so ill signes.
Hard. Never in all my life.
Alph. Thou wonderst at it?
Hard. I did indeed, my liege, not without cause.
Alph. O blame not, Hardenbergh, for thou dost know How sharpe my heart was set to entertaine The Lord of this Ambassage lovingly.
Hard. True, my good Lord.
Alph. But (coming back) how gently the Jade went,— Did he not, Hardenbergh?
Hard. As any horse on earth could do, my Lord.
Alph. Well, sir, this drew me into deepe conceit,
And to recomfort me I did commaund
Lord Hardenbergh should ope a Cabanet
Of my choise Jewels and to bring me thence
A ring, a riche and Violet Hiacinthe,
Whose sacred vertue is to cheere the heart
And to excite our heavie spirits to mirthe;
Which[56], putting on my finger, swift did breake.
Now this, indeed, did much discomfort me,
And heavie to the death I went to bed;
Where in a slumber I did strongly thinke
I should be married to the beautious Dutchesse,
And coming to my Chappell to that end,
Duke Constantine her brother with his Lords
And all our peeres (me thought) attending us,
Forth comes my princelie Katherine led by death,
Who threatening me stood close unto her side,
Urging by those most horrible portents
That wedding her I married mine owne death.
I, frighted in my sleepe, struggled and sweat,
And in the violence of my thoughts cryed out
So lowde that Hardenberghe awakt and rose.
Didst thou not Hardenberghe?
Hard. I felt I did, for never yet (my Lord) Was I in heart and soule so much dismaide.
Alph. Why thus you see (my Lord) how your delaies Were mightilie and with huge cause enforste.
Amb. But dreames (my lord) you know growe by the humors
Of the moist night, which, store of vapours lending
Unto our stomaches when we are in sleepe
And to the bodies supreame parts ascending,
Are thence sent back by coldnesse of the braine,
And these present our idle phantasies
With nothing true but what our labouring soules
Without their active organs safelie worke.
Alph. My lord, know you there are two sorts of dreams,
One sort whereof are onely phisicall,
And such are they whereof your Lordship speakes;
The other Hiper-phisicall, that is
Dreames sent from heaven or from the wicked fiends,
Which nature doth not forme of her owne power
But are extrinsecate, by marvaile wrought;
And such was mine. Yet, notwithstanding this,
I hope fresh starres will governe in the spring;
And then, assure your princelie friend your maister,
Our promise in all honour shall be kept.
Returne this answere, Lord Ambassador,
And recommend me to my sacred love.
Amb. I will, my lord; but how it will be accepted I know not yet; your selfe shall shortly heare.
Alph. Lords, some of you associate him.—Ha, ha!
[Exeunt all but Alph. [and Hard.
Hard. Exceeding well and gravelie good, my lord.
Alph. Come, lets go and visit my Hianthe, She whose perfections are of power to moove The thoughts of Caesar (did he live) to love.
[Exeunt.
Finis Actus Secundus.
Actus Tertius.
Enter Flores, Cassimeere, Lassing., Lucil., Cor., Han., and Doct.
Ha. Well, mistr., God give you more joy of your husband then your husband has of you.
Doct. Fie, too, too bad by my fait. Vat, my lord? melancholie? and ha de sweete Bride, de faire Bride, de verie fine Bride? ô monsieur, one, two, tree, voure, vive, with de brave capra, heigh!
Han. O the Doctor would make a fine frisking usher in a dauncing schoole.
Doct. O by garr, you must daunce de brave galliarr. A pox of dis melancholie!
Cass. My Lord, your humors are most strange to us, The humble fortune of a servants life Should in your carelesse state so much displease.
Lass. Quod licet ingratum est, quod non licet acrius urit.
Flor. Could my childes beautie moove you so, my lord, When Lawe and dutie held it in restraint, And now (they both allowe it) be neglected?
Lass. I cannot rellish joyes that are enforst; For, were I shut in Paradice it selfe, I should as from a prison strive t'escape.
Luc. Haplesse Luci[li]a, worst in her best estate!
Lass. He seeke me out some unfrequented place Free from these importunities of love, And onelie love what mine owne fancie likes.
Luc. O staie, my Lord.
Flor. What meanes Earle Lassenbergh?
Cass. Sweete Earle, be kinder.
Lass. Let me go, I pray.
Doct. Vat? you go leave a de Bride? tis no point good fashion; you must stay, be garr.
Lass. Must I stay, sir?
Doct. I spit your nose, and yet it is no violence. I will give a de prove a dee good reason. Reguard, Monsieur: you no point eate a de meate to daie, you be de empty; be gar you be emptie, you be no point vel; be garr you be vere sick, you no point leave a de provision; be garr you stay, spit your nose.
Lass. All staies have strength like to thy arguments.
Cass. Staie, Lassenbergh.
Luc. Deare Lord.
Flo. Most honord Earle.
Lass. Nothing shall hinder my resolved intent, But I will restlesse wander from the world Till I have shaken off these chaines from me.
[Exit La.
Luc. And I will never cease to follow thee Till I have wonne thee from these unkinde thoughts.
Cass. Haplesse Lucilia! [Exit Luc.
Flor. Unkinde Lassenbergh!
Doct. Be garr, dis Earle be de chollericke complection, almost skipshack, be garr: he no point staie for one place. Madame, me be no so laxative; mee be bound for no point moove six, seaven, five hundra yeare from you sweete sidea; be garr, me be as de fine Curianet about your vite necke; my harte be close tie to you as your fine Buske or de fine Gartra boute your fine legge.
Hans. A good sencible Doctor; how feelinglie he talkes.
Doct. A plage a de Marshan! blowe wind!
Han. You need not curse him, sir; he has the stormes at Sea by this time.
Doct. O forte bien! a good Sea-sick jeast by this faire hand: blowe wind for mee! puh, he no come heere, Madame.
Flo. Come, noble Earle, let your kind presence grace
Our feast prepard for this obdurate Lord,
And give some comfort to his sorrowfull bride
Who in her pitteous teares swims after him.
Doct. Me beare you company, signior Flores.
Flor. It shall not need, sir.
Doct. Be garr, dis be de sweet haven for me for anchor.
Flor. You are a sweet smell-feast,[57] Doctor; that I see. Ile [have] no such tub-hunters use my house. Therefore be gone, our marriage feast is dasht.
Doct. Vat speake a me de feast? me spurne a, me kick a de feast; be garr, me tell a me do de grand grace, de favor for suppa, for dina, for eata with dee; be garrs blur, we have at home de restorative, de quintessence, de pure destill goulde, de Nector, de Ambrosia. Zacharee, make ready de fine partricke, depaste de grand Otamon.
Han. Zacharee is not heere, sir, but Ile do it for you. What is that Otomon, sir?
Doct. O de grand Bayaret de Mahomet, de grand Turgur, be garr.
Ha. O a Turkie, sir, you would have rosted, would you? Call you him an Otoman?
Doct. Have de whole ayre of Fowle at commaund?
Flor. You have the foole[58] at command, sir: you might have bestowed your selfe better. Wil't[59] please you walke, M. Doct. Dodypoll.
[Exeunt all but the Doctor.
Doct. How? Doddie poole? garrs blurr, Doctor Doddie, no point poole. You be paltrie Jacke knave, by garr: de doctor is nicast, de doctor is rage, de doctor is furie, be gar, the doctor is horrible, terrible furie. Vell, derre be a ting me tinke; be gars blur, me know, me be revenge me tella de Duke. Vell, me say no more: chok a de selfe, foule churle, fowle, horrible, terrible pigge, pye Cod.
[Exit.