(SCENE 3.)
Enter Lassenbergh singing, Lucilia following; after the song he speakes.
Lass. O wearie of the way and of my life, Where shall I rest my sorrow-tired[77] limmes!
Luc. Rest in my bosome, rest you here, my Lord; A place securer you can no where finde.
Lass. Nor more unfit for my displeased minde. A heavie slumber calles me to the earth; Heere will I sleepe, if sleep will harbour heere.
Luc. Unhealthful is the melancholic earth:
O let my Lord rest on Lucilia's lappe.
Ile helpe to shield you from the searching ayre
And keepe the colde dampes from your gentle bloud.
Lass. Pray thee, away; for, whilst thou art so neere, No sleepe will seaze on my suspicious eyes.
Luc. Sleepe then, and I am pleazd far off to sit
Like to a poore and forlorne Sentinell,
Watching the unthankful sleepe that severs me
From my due part of rest deere love with thee.
She sits farre off from him.
Enter Const. Dutchesse with a willowe garland, cum aliis.
Con. Now are we neere the court of Saxonie, Where the duke dreames such tragicall ostents.
Amb. I wonder we, now treading on his soile, See none of his strange apparitions.
Kath. We are not worthy of such meanes divine,
Nor hath heaven care of our poore lives like his.
I must endure the end and show I live
Though this same plaintive wreathe doth show me forsaken.
Come, let us foorth.
Const. Stay, sister; what faire sight Sits mourning in this desolate abode?
Dut. Faire sight indeed it is, and much to faire To sit so sad and solitarie there.
Con. But what is he that cur-like sleepes alone?
Dut. Look, is it not my Nephew Lassingbergh?
Amb. Madame, 'tis hee.
Dut. Ile sure learne more of this.—
Lady, if strangers that [do] wish you well
May be so bould to aske, pray whats the cause
That you [so] more then strangely sit alone?
Luc. Madam, thus must forsaken creatures sit Whose merits cannot make their loves consort them.
Dut. What a poore fellow in my miserie! Welcome, sweet partner, and of favour tell me, Is this some friend of yours that slumbers heere?
Luc. My husband (madame) and my selfe his friend, But he of late unfriendly is to me.
Con. Sister, lets wake her friend.
Dut. No, let him sleepe;
And, gentle dame, if you will be rulde by me,
Ile teach you how to rule your friend in love:
Nor doubt you our acquaintance, for the man
Whom you so much affect is friend to us.
Shee riseth.
Luc. Pardon me, Madame; now I know your grace.
Dut. Then knowst thou one in fortune like thy selfe,
And one that tenders thy state as her owne.
Come, let our Nephew Lassingberg sleepe there,
And, gentle Neace, come you to court with us,
If you dare mixe your loves successe with mine.
I warrant you I counsell for the best.
Luc. I must not leave him now (madame) alone, Whom thus long I have followed with such care.
Dut. You wearie him with too much curtesie; Leave him a little and heele follow you.
Luc. I know not what to doo.
Dut. Come, come with us.
Con. Dame, never fear; get you a Willow w[reath]; The Dutchesse (doubt not) can advise you well.
Luc. Lets wake him then, and let him go with [us].
Dut. That's not so good; I pray be rulde by me.
Luc. Sleep, then, deare love; and let sleep that doth bind Thy sence so gently, make thee more kinde.
[Exeunt.
Enter Hance in the Prince's apparrall, and the Peasant.
Pea. Come, sirra, money for your gentlemans apparel; you promist me money, sir, but I perceive you forget your selfe.
Han. True, pride makes a man forget himselfe; and I have quite forgot that I owe thee any.
Pea. But Ile put you in minde, sir, if there be any sergeants in Saxonie; I thinke I meane not to loose so much by you.
Han. Why, I have lost a maister and a mistresse, and yet I aske thee no money for them.
Pea. I bought them not of you, sir; therefore pay me my money.
Han. I will pay thee morningly every morning as long as thou livest; looke in thy right shooe and thou shalt finde sixe pence.
Pea. What a fowle knave and fairie! Well, use thy conscience: I thanke God I stand in neede of no such trifles. I have another jewell heere which I found in the Princes pocket when I chang'd apparell with him; that will I make money of, and go to the jeweller that bought the cup of mee. Farewell: if God put in thy mind to pay me, so; if not, so. [Exit.
Han. O brave free-harted slave, he has the laske of mind upon him.
Lass. What speech is this that interrupts my rest? Who have we heere?
Han. Sometime a serving man, and so were yee, Both now jolly gentlemen you see.
Lass. What, sir, how came you thus gallant, I beseech you?
Han. I turn'd the spit in Fortune's wheele, sir.
Lass. But, stay, where is Lucilia?
Han. Marry, where say you, sir?
Lass. Villaine, looke for her, call her, seeke her out.
Lucillia! where's my love, ô where's Lucillia!
Aye me, I feare my barbarous rudenesse to her
Hath driven her to some desperate exigent.
Who would have tempted her true love so farre?
The gentlest minds with injuries overcome
Growe most impacient: ô Lucilia,
Thy absence strikes a loving feare in me,
Which from what cause so ever it proceedes
Would God I had beene kinder to thy love.
Enter Hard, with a Guard, Motto, Raphe.
Hard. Slaves, can ye not direct us to the place?
Mot. Yes, sir, here's the place we left him in.
Ra. O see (my lord) heer's one weares his apparrell.
Hard. But where is he? stay, sirra, what are you That jet thus in the garments of the Prince.
Han. Bought and sold, sir, in the open market, sir. Aske my maister.
Hard. Earle Lassingbergh, where is the Princes body?
Lass. Why aske you me, my Lord?
Hard. Since you are in the place where he was drownd, And this your hinde here hath his garments on.
Lass. Enquire of him then.
Hard. Ile enquire of you And of your gallant, too. Guard, apprehend them And bring them presentlie to court with us.
Lass. What meanes Lord Hardenberg to entreate me thus?
Har. That you shall know anon: bring them away.
[Exeunt.