Enter Cleremont above.
Cler. What a Devil ail you?
How cold I sweat! a hogs pox stop your pipes, [Musick.
The thing will 'wake; now, now, methinks I find
His Sword just gliding through my throat. What's that?
A vengeance choak your pipes. Are you there, Lady?
Stop, stop those Rascals; do you bring me hither
To be cut into minced meat? why Dinant?
Din. I cannot do withal;
I have spoke, and spoke; I am betray'd and lost too.
Cler. Do you hear me? do you understand me?
'Plague dam your Whistles. [Musick ends.
Lam. 'Twas but an over-sight, they have done, lye down.
Cler. Would you had done too,
You know not
In what a misery and fear I lye.
You have a Lady in your arms.
Din. I would have— [The Recorders again.
Champ. I'll watch you Goodman Wou'd have.
Cler. Remove for Heavens sake,
And fall to that you come for.
Lam. Lie you down,
'Tis but an hours endurance now.
Cler. I dare not, softly sweet Lady ——heart?
Lam. 'Tis nothing but your fear, he sleeps still soundly,
Lie gently down.
Cler. 'Pray make an end.
Din. Come, Madam.
Lam. These Chambers are too near. [Ex. Din. Lam.
Cham. I shall be nearer;
Well, go thy wayes, I'le trust thee through the world,
Deal how thou wilt: that that I never feel,
I'le never fear. Yet by the honour of a Souldier,
I hold thee truly noble: How these things will look,
And how their blood will curdle! Play on Children,
You shall have pap anon. O thou grand Fool,
That thou knew'st but thy fortune— [Musick done.
Cler. Peace, good Madam,
Stop her mouth, Dinant, it sleeps yet, 'pray be wary,
Dispatch, I cannot endure this misery,
I can hear nothing more; I'll say my prayers,
And down again— [Whistle within.
A thousand Alarms fall upon my quarters,
Heaven send me off; when I lye keeping Courses.
Pl—— o' your fumbling, Dinant; how I shake!
'Tis still again: would I were in the Indies. [Exit Cler.
Enter Dinant, and Lamira: a light within.
Din. Why do you use me thus? thus poorly? basely?
Work me into a hope, and then destroy me?
Why did you send for me? this new way train me?
Lam. Mad-man, and fool, and false man, now I'll shew thee.
Din. 'Pray put your light out.
Lam. Nay I'll hold it thus,
That all chaste Eyes may see thy lust, and scorn it.
Tell me but this when you first doted on me,
And made suit to enjoy me as your Wife,
Did you not hold me honest?
Din. Yes, most vertuous.
Lam. And did not that appear the only lustre
That made me worth your love and admiration?
Din. I must confess—
Lam. Why would you deal so basely?
So like a thief, a Villain?
Din. Peace, good Madam.
Lam. I'll speak aloud too; thus maliciously,
Thus breaking all the Rules of honesty,
Of honour and of truth, for which I lov'd you,
For which I call'd you servant, and admir'd you;
To steal that Jewel purchas'd by another,
Piously set in Wedlock, even that Jewel,
Because it had no flaw, you held unvaluable:
Can he that has lov'd good, dote on the Devil?
For he that seeks a Whore, seeks but his Agent;
Or am I of so wild and low a blood?
So nurs'd in infamies?
Din. I do not think so,
And I repent.
Lam. That will not serve your turn, Sir.
Din. It was your treaty drew me on.
Lam. But it was your villany
Made you pursue it; I drew you but to try
How much a man, and nobly thou durst stand,
How well you had deserv'd the name of vertuous;
But you like a wild torrent, mix'd with all
Beastly and base affections came floating on,
Swelling your poyson'd billows—
Din. Will you betray me?
Lam. To all the miseries a vext Woman may.
Din. Let me but out,
Give me but room to toss my Sword about me,
And I will tell you y'are a treacherous woman,
O that I had but words!
Lam. They will not serve you.
Din. But two-edg'd words to cut thee; a Lady traytor?
Perish by a proud Puppet? I did you too much honour,
To tender you my love, too much respected you
To think you worthy of my worst embraces.
Go take your Groom, and let him dally with you,
Your greasie Groom; I scorn to imp your lame stock,
You are not fair, nor handsome, I lyed loudly,
This tongue abus'd you when it spoke you beauteous.
Lam. 'Tis very well, 'tis brave.
Din. Put out your light,
Your lascivious eyes are flames enough
For Fools to find you out; a Lady Plotter!
Must I begin your sacrifice of mischief?
I and my friend, the first-fruits of that bloud,
You and your honourable Husband aim at?
Crooked and wretched you are both.
Lam. To you, Sir,
Yet to the Eye of Justice straight as Truth.
Din. Is this a womans love? a womans mercy?
Do you profess this seriously? do you laugh at me?
Lam. Ha, ha.
Din. Pl—— light upon your scorns, upon your flatteries,
Upon your tempting faces, all destructions;
A bedrid winter hang upon your cheeks,
And blast, blast, blast those buds of Pride that paint you;
Death in your eyes to fright men from these dangers:
Raise up your trophy, Cleremont.
Cler. What a vengeance ail you?
Din. What dismal noise! is there no honour in you?
Cleremont, we are betrayed, betrayed, sold by a woman;
Deal bravely for thy self.
Cler. This comes of rutting;
Are we made stales to one another?
Din. Yes, we are undone, lost.
Cler. You shall pay for't grey-beard.
Up, up, you sleep your last else. {Lights above, two Servants
{and Anabel.
1 Serv. No, not yet, Sir,
Lady, look up, would you have wrong'd this Beauty?
Wake so tender a Virgin with rough terms?
You wear a Sword, we must entreat you leave it.
2 Serv. Fye Sir, so sweet a Lady?
Cler. Was this my bed-fellow, pray give me leave to look,
I am not mad yet, I may be by and by.
Did this lye by me?
Did I fear this? is this a Cause to shake at?
Away with me for shame, I am a Rascal.
Enter Champernel, Beaupre, Verdone, Lamira, Anabel, Cleremont, and two Servants.
Din. I am amaz'd too.
Beaup. We'll recover you.
Verd. You walk like Robin-good-fellow all the house over,
And every man afraid of you.
Din. 'Tis well, Lady;
The honour of this deed will be your own,
The world shall know your bounty.
Beaup. What shall we do with 'em?
Cler. Geld me,
For 'tis not fit I should be a man again,
I am an Ass, a Dog.
Lam. Take your revenges,
You know my Husbands wrongs and your own losses.
Anab. A brave man, an admirable brave man;
Well, well, I would not be so tryed again;
A very handsome proper Gentleman.
Cler. Will you let me lye by her but one hour more,
And then hang me?
Din. We wait your malice, put your swords home bravely,
You have reason to seek bloud.
Lam. Not as you are noble.
Cham. Hands off, and give them liberty, only disarm 'em.
Beaup. We have done that already.
Cham. You are welcome, Gentlemen,
I am glad my house has any pleasure for you,
I keep a couple of Ladies here, they say fair,
And you are young and handsome, Gentlemen;
Have you any more mind to Wenches?
Cler. To be abus'd too? Lady, you might have help'd this.
Ana. Sir now 'tis past, but 't may be I may stand
Your friend hereafter, in a greater matter.
Cler. Never whilst you live.
Ana. You cannot tell—now, Sir, a parting hand.
Cler. Down and Roses:
Well I may live to see you again. A dull Rogue,
No revelation in thee.
Lam. Were you well frighted?
Were your fitts from the heart, of all colds and colours?
That's all your punishment.
Cler. It might have been all yours,
Had not a block-head undertaken it.
Cham. Your swords you must leave to these Gentlemen.
Verd. And now, when you dare fight,
We are on even Ice again.
Din. 'Tis well:
To be a Mistris, is to be a monster,
And so I leave your house, and you for ever.
Lam. Leave your wild lusts, and then you are a master.
Cham. You may depart too.
Cler. I had rather stay here.
Cham. Faith we shall fright you worse.
Cler. Not in that manner,
There's five hundred Crowns, fright me but so again.
Din. Come Cleremont, this is the hour of fool.
Cler. Wiser the next shall be or we'll to School. [Exeunt.
Champ. How coolly these hot gallants are departed!
Faith Cousin, 'twas unconscionably done,
To lye so still, and so long.
Anab. 'Twas your pleasure,
If 'twere a fault, I may hereafter mend.
Champ. O my best Wife,
Take now what course thou wilt, and lead what life.
Lam. The more trust you commit, the more care still,
Goodness and vertue shall attend my will.
Cham. Let's laugh this night out now, and count our gains.
We have our honours home, and they their pains. [Exeunt omnes.
Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.
Enter Cleremont, Dinant.
Din. It holds, they will go thither.
Cler. To their Summer-house?
Din. Thither i'th' evening, and which is the most infliction,
Only to insult upon our miseries.
Cler. Are you provided?
Din. Yes, yes.
Cler. Throughly?
Din. Throughly.
Cler. Basta, enough, I have your mind, I will not fail you.
Din. At such an hour.
Cler. Have I a memory?
A Cause, and Will to do? thou art so sullen—
Din. And shall be, till I have a fair reparation.
Cler. I have more reason, for I scaped a fortune,
Which if I come so near again: I say nothing,
But if I sweat not in another fashion—
O, a delicate Wench.
Din. 'Tis certain a most handsome one.
Cler. And me thought the thing was angry with it self too
It lay so long conceal'd, but I must part with you,
I have a scene of mirth, to drive this from my heart,
And my hour is come.
Din. Miss not your time.
Cler. I dare not. [Exeunt severally.