THE FATAL DOWRY: A TRAGEDY.  
As it hath been often Acted at the Private House in Blackfriars, by his Majesty's Servants.  
Written by P. M. and N. F.  
LONDON, Printed by JOHN NORTON, for FRANCIS CONSTABLE, and are to be sold at his shop at the Crane, in Paul's Churchyard. 1632.   


Charalois.  
Romont.  
Charmi.  
Novall Sen.  
Liladam.  
Du.  
Rochfort.  
Baumont.  
Pontalier.  
Malotin.  
Beaumelle.  
Florimel.  
Bellapert.  
Aymer  
Novall Iun.  
Advocates.  
Creditors 3.  
Officers,  
Priest.  
Taylor.  
Barber.  
Perfumer.    


First Song.  
FIe, cease to wonder,  
Though you hear Orpheus with his ivory Lute,  
Move Trees and Rocks,  
Charm Bulls, Bears, and men more savage to be mute,  
Weak foolish singer, here is one,  
Would have transformed thyself, to stone.   

Second Song. A Dialogue between Novall, and Beaumelle.  
Man.  
SEt Phoebus, set, a fairer sun doth rise,  
From the bright Radiance of my Mrs. eyes then ever thou begat'st  
I dare not look, each hair a golden line,  
Each word a hook,  
The more I strive, the more still I am took.  
Wom.  
Fair servant, come, the day these eyes do lend  
To warm thy blood, thou dost so vainly spend.  
Come strangled breath.  
Man.  
What note so sweet as this,  
That calls the spirits to a further bliss?  
Wom.  
Yet this outsavours wine, and this Perfume  
Man.  
Let's die, I languish, I consume,   

citizen's Song of the Courtier.  
COurtier, if thou needs wilt wive,  
From this lesson learn to thrive.  
If thou match a Lady, that passes thee in birth and state,  
Let her curious garments be  
Twice above thine own degree;  
This will draw great eyes upon her,  
Get her servants and thee honour.   

courtier's Song of the Citizen.  
Poor Citizen, if thou wilt be  
A happy husband, learn of me;  
To set thy wife first in thy shop,  
A fair wife, a kind wife, a sweet wife, sets a poor man up.  
What though thy shelves be ne'er so bare:  
A woman still is currant ware:  
Each man will cheapen, foe, and friend,  
But whilst thou art at other end,  
whate'er thou seest, or what dost hear,  
Fool, no eye to, nor an ear;  
And after supper for her sake,  
When thou hast fed, snort, though thou wake:  
What though the Gallants call thee mome?  
Yet with thy lantern light her home:  
Then look into the town and tell,  
If no such Tradesmen there do dwell.    

The Fatal Dowry: A Tragedy.  

Act. primus. Scaena prima.  
Enter Charaloyes with a paper, Romont, Charmi. Charmi. 
SIR, I may move the Court to serve your will,  
But therein shall both wrong you and myself.  Rom. 
Why think you so sir?  Charmi. 
'Cause I am familiar  
With what will be their answer: they will say,  
'tis against law, and argue me of Ignorance  
For offering them the motion.  Rom. 
You know not, Sir  
How in this cause they may dispense with Law,  
And therefore frame not you their answer for them,  
But do your parts.  Charmi. 
I love the cause so well,  
As I could run, the hazard of a check for't.  Rom. 
From whom?  Charmi. 
Some of the bench, that watch to give it,  
More than to do the office that they sit for:  
But give me (sir) my fee.  Rom. 
Now you are Noble.  Charmi. 
I shall deserve this better yet, in giving  
My Lord some counsel, (if he please to hear it)  
Then I shall do with pleading.  Rom. 
What may it be, sir?  Charmi. 
That it would please his Lordship, as the Presidents,  
And counselors of Court come by, to stand  
Here, and but show yourself, and to some one  
Or two, make his request: there is a minute  
When a man's presence speaks in his own cause,  
More than the tongues of twenty advocates.  Rom. 
I have urged that.  Enter Rochfort: Du. Charmi. 
Their Lordships here are coming,  
I must go get me a place, you'll find me in Court,  
And at your service. Exit Charmi,  Rom. 
Now put on your Spirits.  Du. 
The ease that you prepare yourself, my Lord,  
In giving up the place you hold in Court,  
Will prove (I fear) a trouble in the State,  
And that no slight one.  Roch. 
Pray you sir, no more.  Rom. 
Now sir, lose not this offered means: their looks  
Fixed on you, with a pitying earnestness,  
Invite you to demand their furtherance  
To your good purpose.— This such a dullness  
So foolish and untimely as—  Du.. 
You know him.  Roch. 
I do, and much lament the sudden fall  
Of his brave house, It is young Charloyes.  
Son to the Marshal, from whom he inherits  
His fame and virtues only.  Rom. 
Ha, heigh name you.  Du. 
His father died in prison two days since.  Roch. 
Yes, to the shame of this ungrateful State!  
That such a Master in the art of war,  
So noble, and so highly meriting,  
From this forgetful Country, should, for want  
Of means to satisfy his creditors,  
The sums he took up for the general good,  
Meet with an end so infamous.  Rom. 
Dare you ever hope for like opportunity?  Du. 
My good Lord!  Roch. 
My wish bring comfort to you.  Du. 
The time calls us.  Roch. 
Good morrow Colonel.  Exeunt Roch. Du. Rom. 
This obstinate spleen,  
You think becomes your sorrow, and sorts well  
With your black suits: but grant me wit, or judgement,  
And by the freedom of an honest man,  
And a true friend to boot, I swear 'tis shameful.  
And therefore flatter not yourself with hope,  
Your sable habit, with the hat and cloak,  
No though the ribbons help, have power to work'em  
To what you would: for those that had no eyes,  
To see the great acts of your father, will not,  
From any fashion sorrow can put on,  
be taught to know their duties.  Char. 
If they will not,  
They are too old to learn, and I too young  
To give them counsel, since if they partake  
The understanding, and the hearts of men,  
They will prevent my words and tears: if not,  
What can persuasion, though made eloquent  
With grief, work upon such as have changed natures  
With the most savage beast? Blessed, blessed be ever  
The memory of that happy age, when justice  
Had no guards to keep off wronged innocence,  
From flying to her succours, and in that  
Assurance of redress: where now (Roment)  
The damned, with more ease may ascend from Hell,  
Than we arrive at her. One Cerberus there  
Forbids the passage, in our Courts a thousand,  
As loud, and fertile headed, and the Client  
That wants the sops, to fill their ravenous throats,  
Must hope for no access: why should I then  
Attempt impossibilities: you friend, being  
Too well acquainted with my dearth of means  
To make my entrance that way?  Rom. 
Would I were not.  
But Sir, you have a cause, a cause so just,  
Of such necessity, not to be deferred,  
As would compel a maid, whose foot was never  
Set o'er her father's threshold, nor within  
The house where she was borne, ever spoke word,  
Which was not ushered with pure virgin blushes,  
To drown the tempest of a pleaders tongue,  
And force corruption to give back the hire  
It took against her: let examples move you.  
You see great men in birth, esteem and fortune,  
Rather than lose a scruple of their right,  
Fawn basely upon such, whose gowns put off,  
They would disdain for Servants.  Char. 
And to these can I become a suitor?  Rom. 
Without loss,  
Would you consider, that to gain their favours,  
Our chastest dames put off their modesties,  
Soldiers forget their honours, usurers  
Make sacrifice of Gold, poets of wit,  
And men religious, part with fame, and goodness?  
Be therefore won to use the means, that may  
Advance your pious ends.  Char. 
You shall o'ercome.  Rom. 
And you receive the glory, pray you now practise.  
'Tis well. Enter Old Novall, Liladam, & 3 Creditors.  Char. 
Not look on me!  Rom. 
You must have patience— Offer't again.  Char. 
And be again contemned?  Nou. 
I know what's to be done.  1 Cred. 
And that your Lordship  
Will please to do your knowledge, we offer, first  
Our thankful hearts here, as a bounteous earnest  
To what we will add  Nou. 
One word more of this  
I am your enemy. Am I a man  
Your bribes can work on? ha?  Lilad. 
Friends, you mistake  
The way to win my Lord, he must not hear this,  
But I, as one in favour, in his sight,  
May hearken to you for my profit. Sir,  
I pray hear 'em.  Nou. 
'tis well.  Lilad. 
Observe him now.  Nou. 
Your cause being good, and your proceedings so,  
Without corruption; I am your friend,  
Speak your desires.  2 Cred. 
Oh, they are charitable,  
The Marshal stood engaged unto us three,  
Two hundred thousand crowns, which by his death  
We are defeated of. For which great loss  
We aim at nothing but his rotten flesh,  
Nor is that cruelty.  1 Cred. 
I have a son,  
That talks of nothing but of Guns and Armours,  
And swears he'll be a soldier, 'tis an humour  
I would divert him from, and I am told  
That if I minister to him in his drink  
Powder, made of this bankrupt Marshals bones,  
Provided that the carcase rot above ground,  
'T will cure his foolish frenzy.  Nou. 
You show in it  
A father's care. I have a son myself,  
A fashionable Gentleman and a peaceful:  
And but I am assured he's not so given,  
He should take of it too. Sir, what are you?  Char. 
A Gentleman.  Nou. 
So are many that rake dunghills.  
If you have any suit, move it in Court.  
I take no papers in corners.  Rom. 
Yes as the matter may be carried, and hereby  
To manage the conveyance— Follow him.  Lil. 
You are rude. I say, he shall not pass. Exit Novall. Char: and Advocates.  Rom. 
You say so.  
On what assurance?  
For the well cutting of his Lordship's corns,  
Picking his toes, or any office else  
Nearer to baseness!  Lil. 
Look upon me better,  
Are these the ensigns of so course a fellow?  
Be well advised.  Rom. 
Out, rogue, do not I know, (Kicks him)  
These glorious weeds spring from the sordid dunghill  
Of thy officious baseness? wert thou worthy  
Of any thing from me, but my contempt,  
I would do more than this, more, you Court-spider.  Lil. 
But that this man is lawless; he should find that I am valiant.  1 Cred. 
If your ears are fast,  
'tis nothing. What's a blow or two? as much—  2 Cred. 
These chastisements, as useful are as frequent  
To such as would grow rich.  Rom. 
Are they so Rascals? I will befriend you then.  1 Cred. 
Bear witness, Sirs.  Lil. 
Truth, I have borne my part already, friends.  
In the Court you shall have more. Exit.  Rom. 
I know you for  
The worst of spirits, that strive to rob the tombs  
Of what is their inheritance, from the dead.  
For usurers, bred by a riotous peace:  
That hold the Charter of your wealth & freedom,  
By being Knaves and Cuckolds that ne'er prayed,  
But when you fear the rich heirs will grow wise,  
To keep their Lands out of your parchment toils;  
And then, the Devil your father's called upon,  
To invent some ways of Luxury ne'er thought on.  
Be gone, and quickly, or I'll leave no room  
Upon your forehead for your horns to sprout on,  
Without a murmur, or I will undo you;  
For I will beat you honest.  1 Cred. 
Thrift forbid.  
We will bear this, rather than hazard that. Ex: Creditor.  Enter Charloyes. Rom. 
I am somewhat eased in this yet.  Char 
(Only friend)  
To what vain purpose do I make my sorrow,  
Wait on the triumph of their cruelty?  
Or teach their pride from my humility,  
To think it has o'ercome? They are determined  
What they will do: and it may well become me,  
To rob them of the glory they expect  
From my submiss entreaties.  Rom. 
Think not so, Sir,  
The difficulties that you encounter with,  
Will crown the undertaking— Heaven! you weep:  
And I could do so too, but that I know,  
There's more expected from the son and friend  
Of him, whose fatal loss now shakes our natures.  
Then sighs, or tears, (in which a village nurse  
Or cunning strumpet, when her knave is hanged,  
May overcome us.) We are men (young Lord)  
Let us not do like women. To the Court,  
And there speak like your birth: wake sleeping justice,  
Or dare the Axe. This is a way will sort  
With what you are. I call you not to that  
I will shrink from myself, I will deserve  
Your thanks, or suffer with you— O how bravely  
That sudden fire of anger shows in you!  
 
 Exeunt. Du Croye. Your Lordship's seated. May this meeting prove prosperous to us, and to the general good of Burgundy. Nou Se 
Speake to the point.  Du 
Which is,  
With honour to dispute the place and power  
Or premier precedent, which this reverent man  
Grave Rochfort, (whom for honour's sake I name)  
Is purposed to resign a place, my Lords,  
In which he hath with such integrity,  
Performed the first and best parts of a judge,  
That as his life transcends all fair examples  
Of such as were before him in Dijon,  
So it remains to those that shall succeed him,  
A precedent they may imitate, but not equal.  Roch. 
I may not sit to hear this.  Du. 
Let the love  
And thankfulness we are bound to pay to goodness,  
In this o'ercome your modesty.  Roch. 
My thanks  
For this great favour shall prevent your trouble.  
The honourable trust that was imposed  
Upon my weakness, since you witness for me,  
It was not ill discharged, I will not mention,  
Nor now, if age had not deprived me of  
The little strength I had to govern well,  
The Province that I under took, forsake it.  Nou. 
That we could lend you of our years.  Du. 
Or strength.  Nou. 
Or as you are, persuade you to continue  
The noble exercise of your knowing judgement.  Roch. 
That may not be, nor can your Lordship's goodness,  
Since your employments have conferred upon me  
Sufficient wealth, deny the use of it,  
And though old age, when one foot's in the grave.  
In many, when all humours else are spent  
Feeds no affection in them, but desire  
To add height to the mountain of their riches:  
In me it is not so, I rest content  
With the honours, and estate I now possess,  
And that I may have liberty to use,  
What Heaven still blessing my poor industry,  
Hath made me Master of: I pray the Court  
To ease me of my burden, that I may  
Employ the small remainder of my life,  
In living well, and learning how to die so,  Enter Romont, and Charalois. Rom. 
See sir, our Advocate.  Du. 
The Court entreats,  
Your Lordship will be pleased to name the man,  
Which you would have your successor, and in me,  
All promise to confirm it.  Roch. 
I embrace it,  
As an assurance of their favour to me,  
And name my Lord Novall.  Du. 
The Court allows it.  Roch. 
But there are suitors wait here, and their causes  
May be of more necessity to be heard,  
And therefore wish that mine may be deferred,  
And theirs have hearing.  Du. 
If your Lordship please  
To take the place, we will proceed.  Charm. 
The cause  
We come to offer to your Lordship's censure,  
Is in itself so noble, that it needs not  
Or Rhetoric in me that plead, or favour  
From your grave Lordships, to determine of it.  
Since to the praise of your impartial justice  
(Which guilty, nay condemned men, dare not scandal)  
It will erect a trophy of your mercy  
With married to that justice.  Nou. Se. 
Speak to the cause.  Charm. 
I will, my Lord: to say, the late dead Marshal  
The father of this young Lord here, my Client,  
Hath done his Country great and faithful service,  
Might task me of impertinence to repeat,  
What your grave Lordships cannot but remember,  
He in his life, become indebted to  
These thrifty men, I will not wrong their credits,  
By giving them the attributes they now merit,  
And failing by the fortune of the wars,  
Of means to free himself, from his engagements,  
He was arrested, and for want of bail  
Imprisoned at their suit, and not long after  
With loss of liberty ended his life.  
And though it be a Maxim in our Laws,  
All suits die with the person, these men's malice  
In death find matter for their hate to work on,  
Denying him the decent Rites of burial,  
Which the sworn enemies of the Christian faith  
Grant freely to their slaves: may it therefore please  
Your Lordships, so to fashion your decree,  
That what their cruelty doth forbid, your pity  
May give allowance to.  Nou. Se. 
How long have you Sir practised in Court?  Charmi. 
Some twenty years, my Lord.  Nou. Se. 
By your gross ignorance it should appear,  
Not twenty days.  Charmi. 
I hope I have given no cause in this, my Lord—  Nou. Se. 
How dare you move the Court,  
To the dispensing with an Act confirmed  
By Parliament, to the terror of all bankrupts?  
Go home, and with more care peruse the Statutes:  
Or the next motion savouring of this boldness,  
May force you to leap (against your will)  
Over the place you plead at.  Carmi. 
I foresaw this.  Rom. 
Why does your Lordship think, the moving of  
A cause more honest than this Court had ever  
The honour to determine, can deserve  
A check like this?  Nou. Se. 
Strange boldness!  Rom. 
'tis fit freedom:  
Or do you conclude, an advocate cannot hold  
His credit with the judge, unless he study  
His face more than the cause for which he pleads?  Charmi. 
Forbear.  Rom. 
Or cannot you, that have the power  
To qualify the rigour of the Laws  
When you are pleased, take a little from  
The strictness of your sour decrees, enacted  
In favour of the greedy creditors  
Against the o'erthrown debtor?  Nou. Se. 
Sirrah, you that prate  
Thus saucily, what are you?  Rom. 
Why I'll tell you,  
Thou purple-coloured man, I am one to whom  
Thou owest the means thou hast of sitting there  
A corrupt Elder.  Charmi. 
Forbear.  Rom. 
The nose thou wear'st, is my gift, and those eyes,  
That meet no object so base as their Master,  
Had been, long since torn from that guilty head,  
And thou thyself slave to some needy Swiss,  
Had I not worn a sword, and used it better  
Than in thy prayers thou ere didst thy tongue.  Nou. Se. 
Shall such an Insolence pass unpunished?  Charmi. 
Hear me.  Rom. 
Yet I, that in my service done my Country,  
Disdain to be put in the scale with thee,  
Confess myself unworthy to be valued  
With the least part, nay hair of the dead Marshal,  
Of whose so many glorious undertakings,  
Make choice of any one, and that the meanest  
Performed against the subtle Fox of France,  
The politic Lewis, or the more desperate Swiss,  
And 'twill outweigh all the good purpose,  
Though put in act, that ever gown-man practised.  Nou. Se. 
Away with him to prison.  Rom. 
If that curses,  
Urged justly, and breathed forth so, ever fell  
On those that did deserve them; let not mine  
Be spent in vain now, that thou from this instant  
Mayest in thy fear that they will fall upon thee,  
Be sensible of the plagues they shall bring with them.  
And for denying of a little earth,  
To cover what remains of our great soldier:  
May all your wives prove whores, your factors thieves,  
And while you live, your riotous heirs undo you.  
And thou, the patron of their cruelty,  
Of all thy Lordships live not to be owner  
Of so much dung as will conceal a Dog,  
Or what is worse, thyself in. And thy years,  
To th'end thou mayst be wretched, I wish many,  
And as thou hast denied the dead a grave,  
May misery in thy life make thee desire one,  
Which men and all the Elements keep from thee:  
I have begun well, imitate, exceed.  Roch. 
Good counsel were it, a praise worthy deed. Ex. Officers with Rom.  Du.. 
Remember what we are.  Chara. 
Thus low my duty  
answers your Lordship's counsel. I will use  
In the few words (with which I am to trouble  
Your Lordship's ears) the temper that you wish me,  
Not that I fear to speak my thoughts as loud,  
And with a liberty beyond Romont:  
But that I know, for me that am made up  
Of all that's wretched, so to haste my end,  
Would seem to most, rather a willingness  
To quit the burden of a hopeless life,  
Then scorn of death, or duty to the dead.  
I therefore bring the tribute of my praise  
To your severity, and commend the justice,  
That will not for the many services  
That any man hath done the Common wealth,  
Wink at his least of ills: what though my father  
Writ man before he was so, and confirmed it,  
By numbering that day, no part of his life,  
In which he did not service to his Country;  
Was he to be free therefore from the Laws,  
And ceremonious form in your decrees?  
Or else because he did as much as man  
In those three memorable overthrows  
A Granson, Morat, Nancy, where his Master,  
The warlike Charloyes (with whose misfortunes  
I bear his name) lost treasure, men and life,  
To be excused, from payment of those sums  
Which (his own patrimony spent) his zeal,  
To serve his Country, forced him to take up?  Nou. Se. 
The president were ill.  Chara. 
And yet, my Lord, this much  
I know you'll grant; After those great defeatures,  
Which in their dreadful ruins buried quick, Enter officers.  
Courage and hope, in all men but himself,  
He forced the proud foe, in his height of conquest,  
To yield unto an honourable peace.  
And in it saved an hundred thousand lives,  
To end his own, that was sure proof against  
The scalding Summer's heat, and Winter's frost,  
Ill airs, the Cannon, and the enemy's sword,  
In a most loathsome prison.  Du. 
'twas his fault to be so prodigal.  Nou. Se. 
He had from the state sufficient entertainment for the Army.  Char. 
sufficient? My Lord, you sit at home,  
And though your fees are boundless at the bar:  
Are thrifty in the charges of the war,  
But your wills be obeyed. To these I turn,  
To these soft-hearted men, that wisely know  
They are only good men, that pay what they owe  2 Cred. 
And so they are.  1 Cred. 
'Tis the City Doctrine,  
We stand bound to maintain it.  Char. 
Be constant in it,  
And since you are as merciless in your natures,  
As base, and mercenary in your means  
By which you get your wealth, I will not urge  
The Court to take away one scruple from  
The right of their laws, or one good thought  
In you to mend your disposition with.  
I know there is no music to your ears  
So pleasing as the groans of men in prison,  
And that the tears of widows, and the cries  
Of famished Orphans, are the feasts that take you.  
That to be in your danger, with more care  
Should be avoided, then infectious air,  
The loathed embraces of diseased women,  
A flatterer's poison, or the loss of honour.  
Yet rather than my father's reverent dust  
Shall want a place in that fair monument,  
In which our noble Ancestors lie entombed,  
Before the Court I offer up myself  
A prisoner for it; load me with those irons  
That have worn out his life, in my best strength  
I'll run to th' encounter of cold hunger,  
And choose my dwelling where no Sun dares enter,  
So he may be released.  1 Cred. 
What mean you sir?  2 Aduo. 
Only your fee against hers so much said  
Already in this cause, and said so well,  
That should I only offer to speak in it,  
I should not be heard, or laughed at for it.  1 Cred. 
'Tis the first money advocate ere gave back,  
Though he said nothing.  Roch. 
Be advised, young Lord,  
And well considerate, you throw away  
Your liberty, and joys of life together:  
Your bounty is employed upon a subject  
That is not sensible of it, with which, wise man  
Never abused his goodness; the great virtues  
Of your dead father vindicate themselves,  
From these men's malice, and break ope the prison,  
Though it contain his body.  Nou. Se. 
Let him alone,  
If he love Lords, a God's name let him wear 'em,  
Provided these consent.  Char. 
I hope they are not  
So ignorant in any way of profit,  
As to neglect a possibility  
To get their own, by seeking it from that  
Which can return them nothing, but ill fame,  
And curses for their barbarous cruelties.  3 Cred. 
What think you of the offer?  2 Cred. 
Very well.  1 Cred. 
Accept it by all means: let's shut him up,  
He is well-shaped and has a villainous tongue,  
And should he study that way of revenge,  
As I dare almost swear he loves a wench,  
We have no wives, nor never shall get daughters  
That will hold out against him.  Du. 
What's your answer?  2 Cred. 
Speak you for all.  1 Cred 
Why, let our executions  
That lie upon the father, be returned  
Upon the son, and we release the body.  Nou. Se. 
The Court must grant you that.  Char. 
I thank your Lordships,  
They have in it confirmed on me such glory,  
As no time can take from me: I am ready,  
Come lead me where you please: captivity  
That comes with honour, is true liberty.  Exit Charmi, Cred & Officers. Nou. Se. 
Strange rashness.  Roch. 
A brave resolution rather,  
Worthy a better fortune, but however  
It is not now to be disputed, therefore  
To my own cause. Already I have found  
Your Lordship's bountiful in your favours to me,  
And that should teach my modesty to end here  
And press your loves no further.  Du. 
There is nothing  
The Court can grant, but with assurance you  
May ask it, and obtain it.  Roch. 
You encourage a bold Petitioner, and 'tis not fit  
Your favours should be lost. Besides, t'has been  
A custom many years, at the surrendering  
The place I now give up, to grant the precedent  
One boon, that parted with it. And to confirm  
Your grace towards me, against all such as may  
Detract my actions, and life hereafter,  
I now prefer it to you.  Du. 
Speak it freely.  Roch. 
I then desire the liberty of Romont,  
And that my Lord Novall whose private wrong  
Was equal to the injury that was done  
To the dignity of the Court, will pardon it,  
And now sign his enlargement.  Nou. Se. 
Pray you demand  
The moiety of my estate, or any thing  
Within my power, but this.  Roch. 
Am I denied then— my first and last request  Du. 
It must not be.  2. Pre. 
I have a voice to give in it.  3. Pre. 
And I.  
And if persuasion will not work him to it,  
We will make known our power.  Nou Se. 
You are too violent,  
You shall have my consent— But would you had  
Made trial of my love in any thing  
But this, you should have found then— But it skills not.  
You have what you desire.  Roch. 
I thank your Lordships.  Du. 
The court is up, make way. Ex. omnes, prater Roch. & Baumont.  Roch. 
I follow you— Baumont.  Baum. 
My Lord.  Roch. 
You are a scholar, Baumont,  
And can search deeper into th' intents of men,  
Than those that are less knowing— How appeared  
The piety and brave behaviour of  
Young Charloyes to you?  Baum. 
It is my wonder,  
Since I want language to express it fully;  
And sure the Colonel—  Roch. 
Fie! he was faulty— what present money have I?  Baum. 
There is no want  
Of any sum a private man has use for.  Roch. 
'Tis well:  
I am strangely taken with this Charlaloys;  
Methinks, from his example, the whole age  
Should learn to be good, and continue so.  
Virtue works strangely with us: and his goodness  
Rising above his fortune, seems to me  
Princelike, to will, not ask a courtesy. Exeunt.    

Act. secundus. Scaena prima:  
Enter Pontalier, Malotin, Baumont. Mal. 
'tIs strange.  Baum. 
methinks so,  Pont. 
In a man, but young,  
Yet old in judgement, theoric, and practic,  
In all humanity (and to increase the wonder)  
Religious, yet a Soldier, that he should  
Yield his free living youth a captive, for  
The freedom of his aged father's Corpses,  
And rather choose to want life's necessaries,  
Liberty, hope of fortune, than it should  
In death be kept from Christian ceremony.  Malo. 
Come, 'Tis a golden precedent in a Son,  
To let strong nature have the better hand,  
(In such a case) of all affected reason.  
What years sits on this Charalois?  Baum. 
Twenty eight, for since the clock did strike him 17 old  
Under his father's wing, this Son hath fought,  
Served and commanded, and so aptly both,  
That sometimes he appeared his father's father,  
And never less than's son; the old man's virtues  
So recent in him, as the world may swear,  
Nought but a fair tree, could such fair fruit bear.  Pont. 
But wherefore lets he such a barbarous law,  
And men more barbarous to execute it,  
Prevail on his soft disposition,  
That he had rather die alive for debt  
Of the old man in prison, than he should  
Rob him of Sepulture, considering  
These moneys borrowed bought the lender's peace,  
And all their means they enjoy, nor was diffused  
In any impious or licentious path?  Bau. 
True: for my part, were it my father's trunk,  
The tyrannous Rameheads, with their horns should gore it,  
Or, cast it to their curs (than they) less currish,  
Ere prey on me so, with their Lion-law,  
Being in my free will (as in his) to shun it.  Pont. 
Alas! he knows himself (in poverty) lost:  
For in this partial avaricious age  
What price bears Honour? Virtue? Long ago  
It was but praised, and freezed, but nowadays  
'Tis colder far, and has, nor love, nor praise,  
Very praise now freezeth too: for nature  
Did make the heathen, far more Christian then,  
Then knowledge us (less heathenish) Christian.  Malo. 
This morning is the funeral.  Pont. 
Certainly!  
And from this prison 'twas the son's request  
That his dear father might interment have. Recorders Music.  
See, the young son interred a lively grave.  Baum. 
They come, observe their order.  Enter Funeral. Body borne by 4. captains and Soldiers. Mourners. Scutcheons, and very good order. Charolois, and Romont meet it Char. speaks. Rom. weeping, solemn Music, 3 Creditors. Char. 
How like a silent stream shaded with night,  
And gliding softly with our windy sighs;  
Moves the whole frame of this solemnity!  
Tears, sighs and blacks, filling the fimily,  
Whilst I the only murmur in this grove  
Of death, thus hollowly break forth Vouchsafe  
To stay a while, rest, rest in peace, dear earth,  
Thou that brought'st rest to their unthankful lives  
Whose cruelty denied thee rest in death:  
Here stands thy poor Executor thy son,  
That makes his life prisoner, to bale thy death;  
Who gladlier puts on this captivity,  
Than Virgins long in love, their wedding weeds:  
Of all that ever thou hast done good to,  
These only have good memories, for they  
Remember best, forget not gratitude.  
I thank you for this last and friendly love.  
And though this Country, like a viperous mother,  
Not only hath eat up ungratefully  
All means of thee her son, but last thyself,  
Leaving thy heir so bare and indigent,  
He cannot raise thee a poor Monument,  
Such as a flatterer, or a usurer hath.  
Thy worth, in every honest breast builder one,  
Making their friendly hearts thy funeral stone.  Pont. 
Sir.  Char. 
Peace, O peace, this scene is wholly mine.  
What weep ye, soldiers? Blanch not, Romont weeps.  
Ha. let me see, my miracle is eased,  
The jailors and the creditors do weep;  
Even they that make us weep, do weep themselves.  
Be these thy Body's balm: these and thy virtue  
Keep thy fame ever odoriferous,  
whilst the great, proud, rich, undeserving man,  
Alive stinks in his vices, and being vanished,  
The golden calf that was an Idol decked  
With Marble pillars jet, and porphyry,  
Shall quickly both in bone and name consume,  
Though wrapped in lead, spice, cerecloth and perfume  1 Cred. 
Sir.  Char. 
What! Away for shame: you profane rogues  
Must not be mingled with these holy relics:  
This is a Sacrifice, our shower shall crown  
His sepulchre with Olive, Myrrh and bays  
The plants of peace, of sorrow, victory,  
Your tears would spring but weeds.  1 Cred. 
Would they not so?  
we'll keep them to stop bottles then:  Rom. 
No; keep 'em for your own sins, you Rogues,  
Till you repent: you'll die else and be damned.  2 Cred. 
Damned, ha! ha, ha.  Rom. 
Laugh ye?  3 Cred. 
Yes faith. Sir, we'd be very glad  
To please you either way.  1 Cred. 
Y'are ne'er content,  
Crying not laughing.  Rom. 
Both with a birth she rogues.  2 Cred. 
Our wives, Sir, taught us.  Rom. 
Look, look you slaves, your thankless cruelty  
And savage manners, of unkind Dijon,  
Exhaust these floods, and not his father's death.  1 Cred. 
Slid, Sir, what would ye, yeare so choleric?  2 Cred. 
Most soldiers are so i'faith, let him alone:  
They have little else to live on, we have not had  
A penny of him, have we?  3 Cred, 
'Slight, would you have our hearts?  1 Cred. 
We have nothing but his body here in durance  
For all our money.  Priest. 
On.  Char. 
One moment more,  
But to bestow a few poor legacies,  
All I have left in my dead father's rights,  
And I have done. Captain, wear thou these spurs  
That yet ne'er made his horse run from a foe.  
Lieutenant, thou, this Scarf, and may it tie  
Thy valour, and thy honesty together:  
For so it did in him. Ensign, this cuirass  
Your general's necklace once. You gentle Bearers,  
Divide this purse of gold, this other, strew  
Among the poor: 'tis all I have. Romont,  
(Wear thou this medal of himself) that like  
A hearty Oak, grew'st close to this tall Pine,  
Even in the wildest wilderness of war,  
Whereon foes broke their swords, and tired themselves;  
Wounded and hacked ye were, but never felled.  
For me, my portion provide in Heaven:  
My root is earthed, and I a desolate branch  
Left scattered in the high way of the world,  
Trod under foot, that might have been a Column,  
Mainly supporting our demolished house,  
This would I wear as my inheritance.  
And what hope can arise to me from it,  
When I and it are both here prisoners?  
Only may this, if ever we be free,  
Keep, or redeem me from all infamy. Song. Music.  1 Cred. 
No farther, look to 'em at your own peril.  2 Cred. 
No, as they please: their Master's a good man.  
I would they were the Bermudas.  Sailor. 
You must no further.  
The prison limits you, and the Creditors  
Exact the strictness.  Rom. 
Out you wolvish mongrels!  
Whose brains should be knocked out, like dogs in july,  
Lest your infection poison a whole town.  Char. 
They grudge our sorrow: your ill wills perforce  
Turns now to Charity: they would not have us  
Walk too far mourning, vsurers relief  
Grieves, if the Debtors have too much of grief. Exeunt.  Enter Beaumelle: Florimell: Bellapert. Beau. 
I prithee tell me, Florimell, why do women marry?  Flor. 
Why truly Madam, I think, to lie with their husbands.  Bella. 
You are a fool; She lies, Madam, women marry husbands,  
To lie with other men.  Flor. 
Faith, e'en such a woman wilt thou make. By this light, Madam, this wagtail will spoil you, if you take delight in her licence.  Beau. 
'tis true, Florimell: and thou wilt make me too good for a young Lady. What an electuary found my father out for his daughter, when he compounded you two my women? for thou, Florimell, art e'en a grain too heavy, simply for a waiting Gentlewoman.  Flor. 
And thou Bellapert, a grain too light.  Bella. 
Well, go thy ways goodly wisdom, whom nobody regards. I wonder, whether be elder thou or thy hood you think, because you serve my Lady's mother, are 32 years old which is a peep cut, you know.  Flor. 
Well said, whirligig.  Bella. 
You are deceived: I want a peg i'th' middle. Out of these Prerogatives! you think to be mother of the maids here, & mortify 'em with proverbs: go, go, govern the sweet meats, and weigh the Sugar, that the wenches steal none: say your prayers twice a day, and as I take it, you have performed your function.  Flor. 
I may be even with you.  Bell. 
Hark, the Court's broke up. Go help my old Lord out of his caroche, and scratch his head till dinner time.  Flor. 
Well. Exit.  Bell. 
Fie Madam, how you walk! By my maidenhead you look 7 years older than you did this morning: why, there can be nothing under the Sun valuable, to make you thus a minute.  Beau. 
Ah my sweet Bellapert thou Cabinet  
To all my counsels, thou dost know the cause  
That makes thy Lady wither thus in youth.  Bel. 
ud'slight, enjoy your wishes: whilst I live,  
One way or other you shall crown your will.  
Would you have him your husband that you love,  
And can't not be? he is your servant though,  
And may perform the office of a husband.  Beau. 
But there is honour, wench.  Bell. 
Such a disease  
There is in deed, for which ere I would die.—  Beau. 
Prithee, distinguish me a maid & wife.  Bell. 
Faith, Madam, one may bear any man's children,  
Tother must bear no man's.  Beau. 
What is a husband?  Bell. 
Physic, that tumbling in your belly, will make you sick i'th' stomach: the only distinction betwixt a husband and a servant is: the first will lie with you, when he please; the last shall lie with you when you please. Pray tell me, Lady, do you love, to marry after, or would you marry, to love after?  Beau. 
I would meet love and marriage both at once.  Bell. 
Why then you are out of the fashion, and willbe contemned: for (I'll assure you) there are few women i'th' world, but either they have married first, and love after, or love first, and married after: you must do as you may, not as you would: your father's will is the Goal you must fly to if a husband approach you, you would have further off, is he your love? the less near you. A husband in these days is but a cloak to be oftener laid upon your bed, then in your bed.  Baum. 
Humpe.  Bell. 
Sometimes you may wear him on your shoulder, now and then under your arm: but seldom or never let him cover you: for 'tis not the fashion.  Enter y. Novall, Pontalier, Malotin, Lilladam, Aymer. Nou. 
Best day to nature's curiosity,  
Star of Dijon, the lustre of all France,  
Perpetual spring dwell on thy rosy cheeks,  
Whose breath is perfume to our Continent,  
See Flora turned in her varieties.  Bell. 
Oh divine Lord!  Nou. 
No autumn, nor no age ever approach  
This heavenly piece, which nature having wrought,  
She lost her needle and did then despair,  
Ever to work so lively and so fair.  Lilad. 
Uds light, my Lord, one of the purls of your band is (without all discipline fall'n) out of his rank.  Nou. 
How? I would not for a 1000 crowns she had seen't.  
Dear Liladam, reform it.  Bell. 
Oh Lord: Per se, Lord, quintessence of honour, she walks not under a weed that could deny thee any thing.  Baum. 
Prithee peace, wench, thou dost but blow the fire, that flames too much already. Lilad. Aym. trim Novall, whilst Bell her Lady.  Aym. 
By gad, my Lord, you have the divinest tailor of Christendom; he hath made you look like an Angel in your cloth of Tissue doublet.  Pont. 
This is a three-legged Lord, there's a fresh assault, oh that men should spend time thus!  
See see, how her blood drives to her heart, and straight vaults to her cheeks again.  Malo. 
What are these?  Pont. 
One of 'em there the lower is a good, foolish, knavish, sociable gallimaufry of a man, and has much taught my Lord with singing, he is master of a music house: the other is his dressing block, upon whom my Lord lays all his clothes, and fashions, ere he vouchsafes 'em his own person; you shall see him i'th' morning in the Galley-foist, at noon in the Bullion, i'th' evening in Quirpo, and all night in—  Malo. 
A bawdy-house.  Pont. 
If my Lord deny, they deny, if he affirm, they affirm: they skip into my Lords cast skins some twice a year, and thus they live to eat, eat to live, and live to praise my Lord.  Malo. 
Good sir, tell me one thing.  Pont. 
What's that?  Malo. 
Dare these men ever fight, on any cause?  Pont. 
Oh no, 't would spoil their clothes, and put their bands out of order.  Nou. 
Mrs, you hear the news: your father has resigned his Presidentship to my Lord my father.  Malo. 
And Lord Charolois undone forever.  Pont. 
Troth, 'tis pity, sir.  
A braver hope of so assured a father  
Did never comfort France.  Lila. 
A good dumb mourner.  Aym 
A silent black.  Nou. 
Oh fie upon him, how he wears his clothes!  
As if he had come this Christmas from St. Omers,  
To see his friends, and returned after twelftide.  Lilad. 
His Colonel looks fienely like a drover,  Nou. 
That had a winter lain perdieu i'th' rain.  Aym. 
What, he that wears a clout about his neck,  
His cuffs in's pocket, and his heart in's mouth?  Nou. 
Now out upon him!  Beau. 
Servant, tie my hand.  
How your lips blush, in scorn that they should pay  
Tribute to hands, when lips are in the way!  Nou. 
I thus recant, yet now your hand looks white,  
Because your lips robbed it of such a right.  Monsieur Aymour, 
I prithee sing the song  
Devoted to my Mrs Cant. Music.  After the Song, Enter Rochfort, & Baumont. Baum. 
Romont will come, sir, straight.  Roch. 
'Tis well.  Bean. 
My Father.  Nouall. 
My honourable Lord.  Roch. 
My Lord Novall, this is a virtue in you,  
So early up and ready before noon,  
That are the map of dressing through all France.  Nou. 
I rise to say my prayers, sir, here's my Saint.  Roch. 
'tis well and courtly; you must give me leave,  
I have some private conference with my daughter,  
Pray use my garden, you shall dine with me.  Lilad. 
we'll wait on you.  Nou. 
Good morn unto your Lordship,  
Remember what you have vowed— to his Mrs. Exeunt omnes, prater Roch. Daug.  Beau. 
Perform I must.  Roch. 
Why how now Beaumelle, thou look'st not well.  
thouart sad of late, come cheer thee, I have found  
A wholesome remedy for these maiden fits,  
A goodly Oak whereon to twist my vine,  
Till her fair branches grow up to the stars.  
Be near at hand, success crown my intent,  
My business fills my little time so full,  
I cannot stand to talk: I know, thy duty  
Is handmaid to my will, especially  
When it presents nothing but good and fit.  Beau. 
Sir, I am yours. Oh if my tears prove true, Exit Daug  
Fate hath wronged love, and will destroy me too.  Enter Romont keeper. Rom. 
Sent you for me, sir?  Roch. 
Yes.  Rom. 
Your Lordship's pleasure?  Roch. 
Keeper, this prisoner I will see forth coming  
Upon my word— Sit down good Colonel. Exit keeper.  
Why I did wish you hither, noble sir,  
Is to advise you from this iron carriage,  
Which, so affected, Romont, you wear,  
To pity and to counsel ye submit  
With expedition to the great Novall:  
Recant your stern contempt, and slight neglect  
Of the whole Court, and him, and opportunity,  
Or you will undergo a heavy censure  
In public very shortly.  Rom. 
Hum hum: reverend sir,  
I have observed you, and do know you well,  
And am now more afraid you know not me,  
By wishing my submission to Novall,  
Than I can be of all the bellowing mouths  
That wait upon him to pronounce the censure  
Could it determine me torments, and shame.  
Submit, and crave forgiveness of a beast  
'tis true, this boil of state wears purple Tissue,  
Is high fed, proud: so is his Lordship's horse,  
And bears as rich Caparisons. I know,  
This Elephant carries on his back not only  
Towers, Castles, but the ponderous republic,  
And never stoops for't, with his strong breath trunk  
snuffs others titles, Lordships, Offices,  
Wealth, bribes and lives, under his ravenous jaws,  
What's this unto my freedom? I dare die;  
And therefore ask this Camel, if these blessings  
(For so they would be understood by a man)  
But mollify one rudeness in his nature,  
Sweeten the eager relish of the law,  
At whose great helm he sits: helps he the poor  
In a just business? nay, does he not cross  
Every deserved soldier and scholar,  
As if when nature made him, she had made  
The general Antipathy of all virtue?  
How savagely, and blasphemously he spoke  
Touching the General, the grave General dead,  
I must weep when I think on't.  Roch. 
Sir.  Rom. 
My Lord, I am not stubborn, I can melt, you see,  
And prize a virtue better than my life  
For though I be not learned, I ever loved  
That holy Mother of all issues, good,  
Whose white hand (for a Sceptre) holds a File  
To polish roughest customs, and in you  
She has her right: see, I am calm as sleep,  
But when I think of the gross injuries,  
The godless wrong done, to my General dead,  
I rave indeed, and could eat this Novall  
A soulless dromedary.  Roch. 
Oh be temperate,  
Sir, though I would persuade, I'll not constrain  
Each man's opinion freely is his own,  
Concerning any thing or anybody,  
Be it right or wrong, 'tis at the judge's peril.  Enter Baumond. Bau. 
These men, Sir, wait without, my Lord is come too.  Roch. 
Pay'em those sums upon the table, take  
Their full releases: stay, I want a witness:  
Let me entreat you Colonel, to walk in,  
And stand but by, to see this money paid,  
It does concern you and your friends, it was  
The better cause you were sent for, though said otherwise.  
The deed shall make this my request more plain.  Rom. 
I shall obey your pleasure Sir, though ignorant  
To what is tends? Exit Seruants Romont.  Roch. 
Worthiest Sir, Enter Charolois.  
You are most welcome: fie, no more of this:  
You have out-weeped a woman, noble Charolois.  
No man but has, or must bury a father.  Char. 
Grave Sir, I buried sorrow, for his death,  
In the grave with him. I did never think  
He was immoral, though I vow I grieve,  
And see no reason why the vicious,  
Virtuous, valiant and unworthy men  
Should die alike.  Roch. 
They do not.  Char. 
In the manner  
Of dying, Sir, they do not, but all die,  
And therein differ not: but I have done.  
I spied the lively picture of my father,  
Passing your gallery, and that cast this water  
Into mine eyes: see, foolish that I am,  
To let it do so.  Roch. 
Sweet and gentle nature,  
How silken is this well comparatively  
To other men! I have a suit to you Sir,  Char 
Take it, 'tis granted.  Roch. 
What?  Char. 
Nothing, my Lord.  Roch. 
Nothing is quickly granted.  Chara. 
Faith, my Lord,  
That nothing granted, is even all I have,  
For (all know) I have nothing left to grant.  Roch. 
Sir, ha' you any suit to me? Ill grant  
You some thing, any thing.  Char. 
Nay surely, I that can  
Give nothing, will but sue for that again.  
No man will grant me any thing I live for.  
But begging nothing, every man will give't.  Roch. 
Sir, the love I bore your father, and the worth  
I see in you, so much resembling his,  
Made me thus send for you. And tender here Draws a Curtain  
whatever you will take, gold, jewels, both,  
All, to supply your wants, and free yourself.  
Where heavenly virtue in high blooded veins  
Is lodged, and can agree, men should kneel down,  
Adore, and sacrifice all that they have;  
And well they may, it is so seldom seen.  
Put off your wonder, and here freely take  
Or send your servants. Nor, Sir, shall you use  
In aught of this, a poor man's fee, or bribe,  
Unjustly taken of the rich, but what's  
Directly gotten, and yet by the Law.  Char. 
How ill, Sir, it becomes those hairs to mock?  Roch. 
Mock? thunder strike me then.  Char. 
You do amaze me:  
But you shall wonder too, I will not take  
One single piece of this great heap: why should I  
Borrow, that have not means to pay, nay am  
A very bankrupt, even in flattering hope  
Of ever raising any. All my begging,  
Is Romont's liberty. Enter Romont, Creditors loaden with money. Baumont.  Roch. 
Here is your friend,  
enfranchised ere you spoke. I give him you,  
And Charalois. I give you to your friend  
As free a man as he; your father's debts  
Are taken off.  Char. 
How?  Rom. 
Sir, it is most true.  
I am the witness.  1 Cred. 
Yes faith, we are paid.  2 Cred. 
Heaven bless his Lordship, I did think him wiser  3 Cred. 
He a statesman, he an ass Pay other men's debts?  1 Cred. 
That he was never bound for.  Rom. 
One more such would save the rest of pleaders  Char. 
Honoured Rochfort.  
Lie still my tongue and bushes, called my cheeks,  
That ofter thanks in words, for such great deeds.  Roch. 
Call in my daughter: still I have a suit to you.  
Would you requite me. Baum. Exit.  Rom. 
With his life, assure you.  Roch. 
Nay, would you make me now your debtor, Sir.  
This is my only child: what she appears, Enter Baum  
Your Lordship well may see her education, Beau.  
follows not any: for her mind, I know it  
To be far fairer than her shape, and hope  
It will continue so: if now her birth  
Be not too mean for Charolois, take her  
This virgin by the hand, and call her wife,  
endowed with all my fortunes: bless me so.  
Requite me thus, and make me happier,  
In joining my poor empty name to yours,  
Then if my state were multiplied ten fold.  Char. 
Is this the payment, Sir, that you expect?  
Why, you participate me more in debt  
That nothing but my life can ever pay,  
This beauty being your daughter, in which yours  
I must conceive necessity of her virtue  
Without ill dowry is a PRINCE's aim,  
Then, as she is, for poor and worthless I,  
How much too worthy! Waken me, Romont,  
That I may know I dreamt, and find this vanished  Rom. 
Sure, I sleep not.  Roch. 
Your sentence life or death.  Char. 
Fair Beaumelle, can you love me?  Beau. 
Yes, my Lord. Enter Novall, Pontal  Char. 
You need not question me, if I can you. Malotine, Lilad, Aymer. All salute.  
You are the fairest virgin in Digame  
And Rochfort is your father.  Nou. 
What's this change?  Roch. 
You met my wishes, Gentlemen.  Rom. 
What make  
These dogs in doublets he ere!  Beau. 
A Visitation, Sir.  Char. 
Then thus, Fair Beaumelle, I write my faith  
Thus seal it in the sight of Heaven and men.  
Your fingers tie my heartstrings with this touch  
In true-Love knots, which nought but death shall lose.  
And yet these ears (an Emblem of our loves)  
Like Crystal rivers individually  
Flow into one another, make one source,  
Which never man distinguish, less divide:  
Breath, marry, breath, and kisses, mingle souls  
Two hearts, and bodies, here incorporate:  
And though with little wooing I have won,  
My future life shall be a wooing time.  
And every day, new as the bridal one,  
Oh Sir, I groan under your courtesies,  
More than my father's bones under his wrongs,  
You Curtius-like, have thrown into the gulf,  
Of this his Countries foul ingratitude,  
Your life and fortunes, to redeem their shames.  Roch. 
No more, my glory, come, let's in and hasten  
This celebration.  Rom. Mal. Pont. Bau. 
All fair bliss upon it.  Exeunt Roch. Char. Rom. Bau. Mal. Nou. 
Mistress.  Beau. 
Oh servant, virtue strengthen me.  
Thy presence blows round my affection's vane:  
You will undo me, if you speak again. Exit Beaum.  Lilad. Aym. 
Here will be sport for you. This works.  Exeunt Lilad. Aym. Nou. 
Peace, peace.  Pont. 
One word, my Lord Novall.  Nou. 
What, thou wouldst money; there.  Pont. 
No, I'll none, I'll not be bought a slave,  
A Pander, or a Parasite, for all  
Your father's worth, though you have saved my life,  
Rescued me often from my wants, I must not  
Wink at your follies: that will ruin you.  
You know my blunt way, and my love to truth:  
Forsake the pursuit of this lady's honour,  
Now you do see her made another man's,  
And such a man's, so good, so popular,  
Or you will pluck a thousand mischiefs on you,  
The benefits you have done me, are not lost,  
Nor cast away, they are pursed here in my heart,  
But let me pay you, sir, a fairer way  
Than to defend your vices, or to soothe'em.  Nou. 
Ha, ha, ha, what are my courses unto thee?  
Good Cousin Pontalier, meddle with that  
That shall concern thyself. Exit Novall.  Pont. 
No more but scorn?  
Move on then, stars, work your pernicious will.  
Only the wise rule, and prevent your ill. Exit. oboes.  Here a passage over the Stage, while the Act is playing for the Marriage of Charalois with Beaumelle, &c.   

Actus tertius, Scaena prima  
Enter Novall junior, Bellapert. Nou. In. 
Fly not to these excuses: thou hast been  
False in thy promise, and when I have said  
Ungrateful, all is spoke.  Bell. 
Good my Lord, but hear me only.  Nou. 
To what purpose, trifler?  
Can any thing that thou canst say, make void  
The marriage? or those pleasures but a dream,  
Which Charaloyes (oh Venus) hath enjoyed?  Bell. 
I yet could say that you receive advantage,  
In what you think a loss, would you vouchsafe me  
That you were never in the way till now  
With safety to arrive at your desires,  
That pleasure makes love to you unattended  
By danger or repentance?  Nou. 
That I could.  
But apprehend one reason how this might be,  
Hope would not then forsake me.  Bell. 
The enjoying  
Of what you most desire, I say th' enjoying  
Shall, in the full possession of your wishes,  
Confirm that I am faithful.  Nou. 
Give some relish  
How this may appear possible.  Bell. 
I will  
Relish, and taste, and make the banquet easy:  
You say my lady's married. I confess it,  
That Charolois hath enjoyed her, 'tis most true  
That with her, he's already Master of  
The best part of my old Lords state. Still better,  
But that the first, or last, should be your hindrance,  
I utterly deny; for but observe me:  
While she went for, and was, I swear, a Virgin,  
What courtesy could she with her honour give  
Or you receive with safety— take me with you,  
When I say courtesy, do not think I mean  
A kiss, the tying of her shoe or garter,  
An hour of private conference: those are trifles.  
In this word courtesy, we that are gamesters point at  
The sport direct, where not alone the lover  
Brings his Artillery, but uses it.  
Which word expounded to you, such a courtesy  
Do you expect, and sudden.  Nou. 
But he tasted the first sweets, Bellapert.  Bell. 
He wronged you shrewdly,  
He toiled to climb up to the Phoenix nest,  
And in his prints leaves your ascent more easy.  
I do not know, you that are perfect critics  
In women's books, may talk of maidenheads.  Nou. 
But for her marriage.  Bell. 
'Tis a fair protection  
'Gainst all arrests of fear, or shame for ever.  
Such as are fair, and yet not foolish, study  
To have one at thirteen; but they are mad  
That stay till twenty. Then sir, for the pleasure,  
To say Adulterie's sweeter, that is stale.  
This only is not the contentment more,  
To say, This is my Cuckold, than my Rival.  
More I could say— but briefly, she dotes on you,  
If it prove otherwise, spare not, poison me  
With next gold you give me. Enter Beaumely.  Beau. 
How's this servant, courting my woman?  Bell. 
As an entrance to  
The favour of the mistress: you are together  
And I am perfect in my qu.  Beau. 
Stay Bellapert.  Bell. 
In this, I must not with your leave obey you.  
Your tailor and your Tirewoman wait without  
And stay my counsel, and direction for  
Your next day's dressing. I have much to do,  
Nor will your Ladyship know, time is precious,  
Continue idle: this choice Lord will find  
So fit employment for you. Exit Bellap.  Beau. 
I shall grow angry.  Nou. 
Not so, you have a jewel in her, Madam.  Bell. 
I had forgot to tell your Ladyship Enter again.  
The closet is private and your couch ready;  
And if you please that I shall lose the key,  
But say so, and 'tis done. Exit Bellap.  Baum. 
You come to chide me, servant, and bring with you  
Sufficient warrant, you will say and truely,  
My father found too much obedience in me,  
By being won too soon: yet if you please  
But to remember, all my hopes and fortunes  
Had reverence to this likening: you will grant  
That though I did not well towards you, I yet  
Did wisely for myself.  Nou. 
With too much fervour  
I have so long loved and still love you, Mistress,  
To esteem that an injury to me  
Which was to you convenient: that is past  
My help, is past my cure. You yet may, Lady,  
In recompense of all my duteous service,  
(Provided that your will answer your power)  
Become my creditress.  Beau. 
I understand you,  
And for assurance, the request you make  
Shall not he long unanswered. Pray you sit,  
And by what you shall hear, you'll easily find,  
My passions are much fitter to desire,  
Than to be sued to. Enter Romont and Florimell.  Flor. 
Sir, 'tis not envy  
At the start my fellow has got of me in  
My lady's good opinion, that's the motive  
Of this discovery; but due payment  
Of what I owe her Honour.  Rom. 
So I conceive it.  Flo. 
I have observed too much, nor shall my silence  
Prevent the remedy— yonder they are,  
I dare not be seen with you. You may do  
What you think fit, which willbe, I presume,  
The office of a faithful and tried friend  
To my young Lord. Exit Flori.  Rom. 
This is no vision: ha!  Nou. 
With the next opportunity.  Beau. 
By this kiss, and this, and this.  Nou. 
That you would ever swear thus.  Rom. 
If I seem rude, your pardon, Lady; yours  
I do not ask: come, do not dare to show me  
A face of anger, or the least dislike,  
Put on, and suddenly a milder look,  
I shall grow rough else.  Nou. 
What have I done, Sir,  
To draw this harsh unsavoury language from you?  Rom. 
Done, Popinjay? why, dost thou think that if  
I ere had dreamt that thou hadst done me wrong,  
Thou shouldest outlive it?  Beau. 
This is something more  
Than my Lords friendship gives commission for.  Nou. 
Your presence and the place, makes him presume  
Upon my patience.  Rom. 
As if thou ere were't angry  
But with thy tailor, and yet that poor shred  
Can bring more to the making up of a man,  
Then can be hoped from thee: thou art his creature,  
And did he not each morning new create  
Thou wouldst stink and be forgotten. I'll not change  
On syllable more with thee, until thou bring  
Some testimony under good men's hands,  
Thou art a Christian. I suspect thee strongly,  
And willbe satisfied: till which time, keep from me.  
The entertainment of your visitation  
Has made what I intended on a business.  Nou. 
So we shall meet— Madam.  Rom. 
Use that leg again, and I'll cut off the other.  Nou. 
Very good. Exit Novall.  Rom. 
What a perfume the musk-cat leaves behind him!  
Do you admit him for a property,  
To save you charges, Lady.  Beau. 
'tis not useless,  
Now you are to succeed him.  Rom. 
So I respect you,  
Not for yourself, but in remembrance of,  
Who is your father, and whose wife you now are,  
That I choose rather not to understand  
Your nasty scoff then,—  Beau. 
What, you will not beat me,  
If I expound it to you. here's a Tyrant  
Spares neither man nor woman.  Rom. 
My intents  
Madam, deserve not this; nor do I stay  
To be the whetstone of your wit: preserve it  
To spend on such, as know how to admire  
Such coloured stuff. In me there is now speaks to you  
As true a friend and servant to your Honour,  
And one that will with as much hazard guard it,  
As ever man did goodness.— But then Lady,  
You must endeavour not alone to be,  
But to appear worthy such love and service.  Beau. 
To what tends this?  Rom. 
Why, to this purpose, Lady,  
I do desire you should prove such a wife  
To Charaloys (and such a one he merits)  
As Caesar, did he live, could not except at,  
Not only innocent from crime, but free  
From all taint and suspicion.  Beau. 
They are base that judge me otherwise.  Rom. 
But yet be careful.  
Detraction's a bold monster, and fears not  
To wound the fame of Princes, if it find  
But any blemish in their lives to work on.  
But I'll be plainer with you: had the people  
been learned to speak, but what even now I saw,  
Their malice out of that would raise an engine  
To overthrow your honour. In my sight  
(With yonder pointed fool I frighted from you)  
You used familiarity beyond  
A modest entertainment: you embraced him  
With too much ardour for a stranger, and  
Met him with kisses neither chaste nor comely  
But learn you to forget him, as I will  
Your bounties to him, you will find it safer  
Rather to be uncourtly, then immodest.  Beau. 
This pretty rag about your neck shows well,  
And being course and little worth, it speaks you,  
As terrible as thrifty.  Rom. 
Madam.  Beau. 
Yes.  
And this strong belt in which you hang your honour  
Will outlast twenty scarfs.  Rom. 
What mean you, Lady?  Beau. 
And all else about you Cap a poe,  
So uniform in spite of handsomeness,  
Shows such a bold contempt of comeliness,  
That 'tis not strange your Laundress in the League,  
Grew mad with love of you.  Rom. 
Is my free counsel.  
Answered with this ridiculous scorn?  Beau. 
These objects  
Stole very much of my attention from me,  
Yet something I remember, to speak truth,  
Deceived gravely, but to little purpose,  
That almost would have made me swear, some Curate  
Had stolen into the person of Romont,  
And in the praise of good wife honesty,  
Had read an homely.  Rom. 
By thy hand.  Beau. 
And sword,  
I will make up your oath, 'twill want weight else.  
You are angry with me, and poor I laugh at it.  
Do you come from the Camp, which affords only  
The conversation of cast suburb whores,  
To set down to a Lady of my rank,  
Limits of entertainment?  Rom. 
Sure a Legion has possessed this woman.  Beau. 
One stamp more would do well: yet I desire not  
You should grow horn-mad, till you have a wife.  
You are come to warm meat, and perhaps clean linen  
Feed, wear it, and be thankful. For me, know,  
That though a thousand watches were set on me,  
And you the Master-spy, I yet would use,  
The liberty that best likes me. I will revel,  
Feast, kiss, embrace, perhaps grant larger favours:  
Yet such as live upon my means, shall know  
They must not murmur at it. If my Lord  
be now grown yellow, and has chose out you  
To serve his Jealousy that way, tell him this,  
You have something to inform him. Exit Beau.  Rom. 
And I will.  
Believe it wicked one I will. Hear, Heaven,  
But hearing pardon me: if these fruits grow  
Upon the tree of marriage, let me shun it,  
As a forbidden sweet. An heir and rich,  
Young, beautiful, yet add to this a wife,  
And I will rather choose a Spittle sinner  
Carted an age before, though three parts rotten,  
And take it for a blessing, rather than  
Be fettered to the hellish slavery  
Of such an impudence.  Enter Baumont with writings. Bau. 
Colonel, good fortune  
To meet you thus: you look sad, but I'll tell you  
Something that shall remove it. Oh how happy  
Is my Lord Charaloys in his fair bride!  Rom. 
A happy man indeed!— pray you in what?  Bau. 
I dare swear, you would think so good a Lady,  
A dower sufficient.  Rom. 
No doubt. But on.  Bau. 
So fair, so chaste, so virtuous: so indeed  
All that is excellent.  Rom. 
Women have no cunning to gull the world.  Bau. 
Yet to all these, my Lord  
Her father gives the full addition of  
All he does now possess in Burgundy:  
These writings to confirm it, are new sealed  
And I most fortunate to present him with them,  
I must go seek him out, can you direct me?  Rom. 
You'll find him breaking a young horse.  Bau. 
I thank you. Exit Baumont.  Rom. 
I must do something worthy Charaloys friendship.  
If she were well inclined to keep her so,  
Deserved not thanks: and yet to stay a woman  
Spurred headlong by hot lust, to her own ruin,  
Is harder than to prop a falling tower  
With a deceiving reed. Enter Rochfort.  Roch. 
Some one seek for me,  
As soon as he returns.  Rom. 
Her father! ha?  
How if I break this to him? sure it cannot  
Meet with an ill construction. His wisdom  
Made powerful by the authority of a father,  
Will warrant and give privilege to his counsels.  
It shall be so— my Lord.  Roch. 
Your friend Romont: would you ought with me?  Rom. 
I stand so engaged  
To your so many favours, that I hold it  
A breach in thankfulness, should I not discover,  
Though with some imputation to myself,  
All doubts that may concern you.  Roch. 
The performance  
Will make this protestation worth my thanks.  Rom. 
Then with your patience lend me your attention  
For what I must deliver, whispered only  
You will with too much grief receive.  Enter Beaumelle, Bellapert. Beau. 
See wench!  
Upon my life as I forespoke, he's now  
Preferring his complaint: but be thou perfect,  
And we will fit him.  Bell. 
Fear not me, pox on him:  
A Captain turn Informer against kissing?  
Would he were hanged up in his rusty Armour:  
But if our fresh wits cannot turn the plots  
Of such a mouldy murrion on itself;  
Rich clothes, choice fare, and a true friend at a call,  
With all the pleasures the night yields, forsake us.  Roch. 
This in my daughter? do not wrong her.  Bell. 
Now begin.  
The games afoot, and we in distance.  Beau. 
'tis thy fault, foolish girl, pin on my veil,  
I will not wear those jewels. Am I not  
Already matched beyond my hopes? yet still  
You prune and set me forth, as if I were  
Again to please a suitor.  Bell. 
'tis the course  
That our great Ladies take.  Rom. 
A weak excuse.  Beau. 
Those that are better seen, in what concern  
A Lady's honour and fair fame, condemn it.  
You wait well, in your absence, my Lords friend  
The understanding, grave and wise Romont.  Rom. 
Must I be still her sport  Beau. 
Reprove me for it.  
And he has travelled to bring home a judgement  
Not to be contradicted. You will say  
My father, that owes more to years than he,  
Has brought me up to music, language, Courtship,  
And I must use them. True, but not t'offend,  
Or render me suspected.  Roch. 
Does your fine story begin from this?  Beau. 
I thought a parting kiss  
From young Novall, would have displeased no more  
Than heretofore it hath done; but I find  
I must restrain such favours now; look therefore  
As you are careful to continue mine,  
That I no more be visited. I'll endure  
The strictest course of life that jealousy  
Can think secure enough, ere my behaviour  
Shall call my fame in question.  Rom. 
Ten dissemblers  
Are in this subtle devil. You believe this?  Roch. 
So far that if you trouble me again  
With a report like this, I shall not only  
judge you malicious in your disposition,  
But study to repent what I have done  
To such a nature.  Rom. 
Why, 'tis exceeding well.  Roch. 
And for you, daughter, off with this, off with it:  
I have that confidence in your goodness, ay,  
That I will not consent to have you live  
Like to a Recluse in a cloister: go  
Call in the gallants, let them make you merry,  
Use all fit liberty.  Bell. 
Blessing on you.  
If this new preacher with the sword and feather  
Could prove his doctrine for Canonical,  
We should have a fine world. Exit Bellapert.  Roch. 
Sir, if you please  
To bear yourself as fits a Gentleman,  
The house is at your service: but if not,  
Though you seek company else where, your absence  
Will not be much lamented— Exit Rochfort,  Rom. 
If this be  
The recompense of striving to preserve  
A wanton giglet honest, very shortly  
'Twill make all mankind Panders— Do you smile,  
Good Lady Looseness? your whole sex is like you  
And that man's mad that seeks to better any:  
What new change have you next?  Beau. 
Oh, fear not you, sir,  
I'll shift into a thousand, but I will  
Convert your heresy.  Rom. 
What heresy? Speak.  Beau. 
Of keeping a Lady that is married,  
From entertaining servants.— Enter Novall Iu. Malatine, Liladam, Aymer, Pontalier.  
O, you are welcome.  
Use any means to vex him,  
And then with welcome follow me. Exit Beau  Nou. 
You are tired  
With your grave exhortations, Colonel.  Lilad. 
How is it? Faith, your Lordship may do well,  
To help him to some Church-preferment 'tis  
Now the fashion, for men of all conditions,  
however they have lived, to end that way.  Aym. 
That face would do well in a surplice.  Rom. 
Rogues, be silent— or—  Pont. 
S'death will you suffer this?  Rom. 
And you, the master Rogue, the coward rascal,  
I shall be with you suddenly.  Nou. 
Pontallier,  
If I should strike him, I know I shall kill him:  
And therefore I would have thee beat him, for  
he's good for nothing else.  Lilad. 
His back  
Appears to me, as it would tire a Beadle,  
And then he has a knotted brow, would bruise  
A court like hand to touch it.  Aym. 
He looks like  
A currier when his hides grown dear.  Pont. 
Take heed he curry not some of you.  Nou. 
God's me, he's angry.  Rom. 
I break no Jests, but I can break my sword  
About your pates. Enter Charaloyes and Baumont.  Lila. 
Here's more.  Aym. 
Come let's be gone.  
we are beleaguered.  Nou. 
Look they bring up their troops.  Pont. 
Will you sit down with this disgrace?  
You are abused most grossly.  Lila. 
I grant you, Sir, we are, and you would have us  
Stay and be more abused.  Nou. 
My Lord, I am sorry,  
Your house is so inhospitable, we must quit it. Exeunt. Manent Char. Rom.  Cha. 
Prithee Romont, what caused this uproar?  Rom. 
Nothing.  
They laughed and used their scurvy wits upon me.  Char. 
Come, 'tis thy jealous nature: but I wonder  
That you which are an honest man and worthy,  
Should foster this suspicion: no man laughs;  
No one can whisper, but thou apprehendest  
His conference and his scorn reflects on thee:  
For my part they should scoff their thin wits out,  
So I not heard 'em, beat me, not being there.  
Leave, leave these fits, to conscious men, to such  
As are obnoxious, to those foolish things  
As they can gibe at.  Rom. 
Well, Sir.  Char. 
Thou art known  
Valiant without detect, right defined,  
Which is (as fearing to do injury,  
As tender to endure it) not a brabbler,  
A swearer.  Rom. 
Pish, pish, what needs this my Lord?  
If I be known none such, how vainly, you  
Do cast away good counsel? I have loved you,  
And yet must freely speak: so young a tutor,  
Fits not so old a Soldier as I am.  
And I must tell you, 'twas in your behalf  
I grew enraged thus, yet had rather die,  
Then open the great cause a syllable further.  Cha. 
In my behalf? wherein hath Charalois  
Unfitly so demeaned himself, to give  
The least occasion to the loosest tongue,  
To throw aspersions on him, or so weakly  
Protected his own honour, as it should  
Need a defence from any but himself?  
They are fools that judge me by my outward seeming,  
Why should my gentleness beget abuse?  
The Lion is not angry that does sleep,  
Nor every man a Coward that can weep.  
For God's sake speak the cause.  Rom. 
Not for the world.  
Oh it will strike disease into your bones  
Beyond the cure of physic, drink your blood,  
Rob you of all your rest, contract your sight,  
Leave you no eyes but to see misery,  
And of your own, nor speech but to wish thus  
Would I had perished in the prison's jaws:  
From whence I was redeemed 'twill wear you old,  
Before you have experience in that Art,  
That causes your affliction.  Cha. 
Thou dost strike  
A deathful coldness to my heart's high heat,  
And shrinkest my liver like the Calenture.  
Declare this foe of mine, and lives, that like  
A man I may encounter and subdue it,  
It shall not have one such effect in me,  
As thou denouncest: with a soldier's arm,  
If it be strength, I'll meet it: if a fault  
Belonging to my mind, I'll cut it off  
With mine own reason, as a Scholar should  
Speak, though it make me monstrous.  Rom. 
I'll die first.  
Farewell, continue merry, and high Heaven  
Keep your wife chaste.  Char. 
Hump, stay and take this wolf  
Out of my breast, that thou hast lodged there, or  
For ever lose me.  Rom. 
Lose not, Sir, yourself.  
And I will venture— So the door is fast. Locke the door.  
Now noble Charaloys, collect yourself,  
Summon your spirits, muster all you strength  
That can belong to man, sift passion,  
From every vein, and whatsoever ensues,  
Upbraid not me hereafter, as the cause of  
jealousy, discontent, slaughter and ruin:  
Make me not parent to sin: you will know  
This secret that I burn with.  Char. 
Devil on't,  
What should it be? Romont, I hear you wish  
My wife's continuance of Chastity.  Rom. 
There was no hurt in that.  Cha. 
Why? do you know a likelihood or possibility  
Unto the contrary?  Rom. 
I know it not, but doubt it, these the grounds  
The servant of your wife now young Novall,  
The son unto your father's Enemy  
(Which aggravates my presumption the more)  
I have been warned of, touching her, nay, seen them  
Tie heart to heart, one in another's arms,  
Multiplying kisses, as if they meant  
To pose Arithmetic, or whose eyes would  
be first burned out, with gazing on the others.  
I saw their mouths engender, and their palms  
Glued, as if Love had locked them, their words flow  
And melt each others, like two circling flames,  
Where chastity, like a Phoenix( methought) burned,  
But left the world nor ashes, nor an heir.  
Why stand you silent thus? what cold dull phlegm,  
As if you had no drop of choler mixed  
In your whole constitution, thus prevails,  
To fix you now, thus stupid hearing this?  Cha. 
You did not see 'em on my Couch within,  
Like George a horseback, on her, nor a-bed?  Rom. 
Noah.  Cha. 
Ha, ha.  Rom. 
Laugh ye? e'en so did your wife,  
And her indulgent father.  Cha. 
They were wise.  
Wouldst ha' me be a fool?  Rom. 
No, but a man.  Cha. 
There is no dram of manhood to suspect,  
On such thin airy circumstance as this  
Mere compliment and courtship. Was this tale  
The hideous monster which you so concealed?  
Away, thou curious impertinent  
And idle searcher of such lean nice toys.  
Go, thou seditious sower of debate:  
Fly to such matches, where the bridegroom doubts:  
He holds not worth enough to countervail  
The virtue and the beauty of his wife.  
Thou buzzing drone that 'bout my ears dost hum,  
To strike thy rankling sting into my heart,  
Whose venom, time, nor medicine could assuage.  
Thus do I put thee off, and confident  
In mine own innocency, and desert,  
Dare not conceive her so unreasonable,  
To put Novall in balance against me,  
An upstart craned up to the height he has.  
Hence busybody, thou'rt no friend to me,  
That must be kept to a wife's injury,  Rom. 
Is't possible? farewell, fine, honest man,  
Sweet tempered Lord adieu what Apoplexy  
Hath knit sense up? Is this Romont's reward?  
Bear witness the great spirit of my father,  
With what a healthful hope I administer  
This potion that hath wrought so virulently.  
I not accuse thy wife of act, but would  
Prevent her Praecipuce, to thy dishonour,  
Which now thy tardy sluggishness will admit.  
Would I had seen thee graved with thy great Sire,  
Ere live to have men's marginal fingers point  
At Charaloys, as a lamented story.  
An Emperor put away his wife for touching  
Another man, but thou wouldst have thine tasted  
And keep her (I think.) Puff. I am afire  
To warm a dead man, that waste out myself.  
Bleed— what a plague, a vengeance is't to me,  
If you will be a Cuckold? here I show  
A sword's point to thee, this side you may shun,  
Or that: the peril, if you will run on,  
I cannot help it.  Cha. 
Didst thou never see me  
Angry, Romont?  Rom. 
Yes, and pursue a foe  
Like lightning.  Char. 
Prithee see me so no more.  
I can be so again. Put up thy sword,  
And take thyself away, lest I draw mine.  Rom. 
Come fright your foes with this: sir, I am your friend,  
And dare stand by you thus.  Char. 
Thou art not my friend,  
Or being so, thou art mad, I must not buy  
Thy friendship at this rate; had I just cause,  
Thou know'st I durst pursue such injury  
Through fire, air, water, earth, nay, were they all  
Shuffled again to Chaos, but there's none.  
Thy skill, Romont, consists in camps, not courts.  
Farewell, uncivil man, let's meet no more.  
Here our long web of friendship I untwist.  
Shall I go whine, walk pale, and lock my wife  
For nothing, from her births free liberty,  
That opened mine to me? yes; if I do  
The name of cuckold then, dog me with scorn.  
I am a Frenchman, no Italian borne. Exit.  Rom, 
A dull Dutch rather: fall and cool (my blood)  
Boil not in zeal of thy friends hurt, so high,  
That is so low, and cold himself in't. Woman,  
How strong art thou, how easily beguiled?  
How thou dost rack us by the very horns?  
Now wealth I see change manners and the man:  
Something I must do mine own wrath to assuage,  
And note my friendship to an after-age. Exit.    

Actus quartus. Scaena prima.  
Enter Novall junior, as newly dressed, a tailor, Barber, Perfumer, Liladam, Aymour, Page. Nou. 
MEnd this a little pox! thou hast burnt me. oh fie upon't, O Lard, he has made me smell (for all the world) like a flax, or a red headed woman's chamber: powder, powder, powder.  Perf. 
Oh sweet Lord! Novall sits in a chair,  Page. 
That's his Perfumer. Baerber orders his hair,  Tayl. 
Oh dear Lord, Perfumer gives powder,  Page. 
That's his tailor. Taylor sets his clothes.  Nou. 
Monsieur Liladam, Aymour, how allow you the model of these clothes?  Aym. 
Admirably, admirably, oh sweet Lord! assuredly it's pity the worms should eat thee.  Page. 
Here's a fine Cell; a Lord, a tailor, a Perfumer, a Barber, and a pair of Mounsieurs: 3 to 3, as little will in the one, as honesty in the other. 'Sfoot I'll into the country again, learn to speak truth, drink Ale, and converse with my father's Tenants; here I hear nothing all day, but upon my soul as I am a Gentleman, and an honest man.  Aym. 
I vow and affirm, your tailor must needs be an expert Geometrician, he has the Longitude, Latitude, Altitude, Profundity, every Dimension of your body, so exquisitely, here's a lace laid as directly, as if truth were a tailor.  Page. 
That were a miracle.  Lila. 
With a hair breadth's error, there's a shoulder piece cut, and the base of a piccadill in puncto.  Aym. 
You are right, monsieur his vestaments sit: as if they grew upon him, or art had wrought 'em on the same loom, as nature framed his Lordship as if your tailor were deeply read in Astrology, and had taken measure of your honourable body, with a jacob's staff, an ephemerides.  Tayl. 
I am bound t'ee Gentlemen.  Page. 
You are deceived, they'll be bound to you, you must remember to trust 'em none.  Nou. 
Nay, faith, thou art a reasonable near Artificer, give the devil his due.  Page. 
ay, if he would but cut the coat according to the cloth still.  Nou. 
I now want only my master's approbation, who is indeed, the most polite punctual Queen of dressing in all Burgundy. Pah, and makes all other young Ladies appear, as if they came from board last week out of the country, Is't not true, Liladam?  Lila. 
True my Lord, as if any thing your Lordship could say, could be otherwise than true.  Nou. 
Nay, a my soul, 'tis so, what fouler object in the world, than to see a young fair, handsome beauty, unhandsomely dighted and incongruently accoutered; or a hopeful Chevalier, unmethodically appointed, in the external ornaments of nature? For even as the Index tells us the contents of stories, and directs to the particular Chapters, even so does the outward habit and superficial order of garments (in man or woman) give us a taste of the spirit, and demonstratively point (as it were a manual note from the margin) all the internal quality, and habiliment of the soul, and there cannot be a more evident, palpable, gross manifestation of poor degenerate dunghilly blood, and breeding, then rude, unpolished, disordered and slovenly outside.  Page. 
An admirable lecture. Oh all you gallants, that hope to be saved by your clothes, edify, edify.  Aym. 
By the Lard, sweet Lard, thou deserv'st a pension o'the State.  Page. 
Oth' tailors, two such Lords were able to spread Tailors o'er the face of a whole kingdom.  Nou. 
Pox a this glass lit flatters, I could find in my heart to break it.  Page. 
O save the glass my Lord, and break their heads, they are the greater flatterers I assure you.  Aym. 
Flatters, detracts, impairs, yet put it by,  
Lest thou dear Lord (Narcissus-like) should dote  
Upon thyself, and die and rob the world  
Of nature's copy, that she works form by.  Lila. 
Oh that I were the Infanta Queen of Europe,  
Who (but thyself sweet Lord) shouldst marry me.  Nou. 
I marry? were there a Queen o'th' world, not I.  
Wedlock? no padlock, horselock, I wear spurs He capers.  
To keep it off my heels; yet my Aymour,  
Like a free wanton jennet i'th' meadows,  
I look about, and neigh, take hedge and ditch,  
Feed in my neighbour's pastures, pick my choice  
Of all their fair-maned mares: but married once,  
A man is staked, or powned, and cannot graze  
Beyond his own hedge.  Enter Pontallier, and Malotin. Pont. 
I have waited, sir,  
Three hours to speak w'ee, and not take it well,  
Such magpies, are admitted, whilst I dance  
Attendance.  Lila. 
Magpies? what d''ee take me for?  Pont. 
A long thing with a most unpromising face.  Aym. 
I'll ne'er ask him, what he takes me for.  Mal. 
Do not, sir,  
For he'll go near to tell you.  Pont. 
Art not thou a Barber Surgeon?  Barb. 
Yes sirrah why?  Pont. 
My Lord is sorely troubled with two scabs  Lila. 
Aim. Humph—  Pont. 
I prithee cure him of 'em.  Nou. 
Pish: no more,  
Thy gall sure's overthrown; these are my Council,  
And we were now in serious discourse.  Pont. 
Of perfume and apparel, can you rise  
And spend 5 hours in dressing talk, with these?  Nou. 
Thou'dst have me be a dog: up, stretch and shake,  
And ready for all day.  Pont. 
Sir, would you be  
More curious in preserving of your honour.  
Trim, 'twere more manly. I am come to wake  
Your reputation, from this lethargy  
You let it sleep in, to persuade, importune,  
Nay, to provoke you, sir, to call to account  
This Colonel Romont, for the foul wrong  
Which like a burden, he hath laid on you,  
And like a drunken porter, you sleep under.  
'Tis all the town talks, and believe, sir,  
If your tough sense persist thus, you are undone,  
Utterly lost, you will be scorned and baffled  
By every lackey; season now your youth,  
With one brave thing, and it shall keep the odour  
Even to your death, beyond, and on your Tomb,  
Sent like sweet oils and Frankincense; sir, this life  
Which once you saved, I ne'er since counted mine,  
I borrowed it of you; and now will pay it;  
I tender you the service of my sword  
To bear your challenge, if you'll write, your fate:  
I'll make mine own: whate'er betide you, I  
That have lived by you, by your side will die.  Nou. 
Ha, ha, wouldst ha' me challenge poor Romont?  
Fight with close breeches, thou mayst think I dare not.  
Do not mistake me (coz) I am very valiant,  
But valour shall not make me such an Ass.  
What use is there of valour( nowadays?)  
'Tis sure, or to be killed, or to be hanged.  
Fight thou as thy mind moves thee, 'tis thy trade,  
Thou hast nothing else to do; fight with Romont?  
No, I'll not fight under a Lord.  Pont. 
Farewell, sir, I pity you.  
Such loving Lords walk their dead honours graves,  
For no companions fit, but fools and knaves.  
Come Malotin. Exeunt Pont. Mal.  Enter Romont. Lila. 
'Sfoot, Colbran, the low giant.  Aym. 
He has brought a battle in his face, let's go.  Page. 
Colbran d''ee call him? he'll make some of you smoke, I believe.  Rom. 
By your leave, sirs.  Aym. 
Are you a Consort?  Rom. 
D''ee take me for  
A fiddler? you're deceived: look. I'll pay you. Kicks 'em.  Page. 
It seems he knows you one, he bumfiddles you so.  Lila 
Was there ever so base a fellow?  Aym. 
A rascal?  Lila. 
A most uncivil Groom?  Aym. 
Offer to kick a Gentleman, in a Nobleman's chamber? A pox of your manners  Lila. 
Let him alone, let him alone, thou shalt lose thy arm, fellow: if we stir against thee, hang us.  Page. 
'Sfoot, I think they have the better on him though they be kicked, they talk so.  Lila. 
Let's leave the mad Ape.  Nou. 
Gentlemen.  Lilad. 
Nay, my Lord, we will not offer to dishonour you so much as to stay by you, since he's alone.  Nou. 
Hark you.  Aym. 
We doubt the cause, and will not disparage you, so much as to take your Lordship's quarrel in hand. Plague on him, how he has crumpled our bands.  Page. 
I'll e'en away with 'em, for this soldier beats man, woman, and child. Exeunt, Maletin Nou. Rom.  Nou. 
What mean you, sir? My people.  Rom. 
Your boy's gone, Locks the door.  
And door's locked, yet for no hurt to you,  
But privacy: call up your blood again, sir, be not afraid, I do  
Beseech you, sir, (and therefore come) without more circumstance  
Tell me how far the passages have gone  
'Twixt you, and your fair Mistress Beaumelle.  
Tell me the truth, and by my hope of Heaven  
It never shall go further.  Nou. 
Tell you why sir?  
Are you my confessor?  Rom. 
I will be your confounder, if you do not. Draws a pocket dag.  
Stir not, nor spend your voice.  Nou. 
What will you do?  Rom. 
Nothing but line your brainpan, sir, with lead,  
If you not satisfy me suddenly,  
I am desperate of my life, and command yours.  Nou. 
Hold, hold, I'll speak. I vow to heaven and you,  
she's yet untouched, more than her face and hands:  
I cannot call her innocent; for I yield  
On my solicitous wrongs she consented  
Where time and place met opportunity  
To grant me all requests.  Rom. 
But may I build on this assurance?  Nou. 
As upon your faith. Draws inkhorn and paper.  Rom. 
Write this, sir, nay you must.  Nou. 
Pox of this Gun.  Rom. 
Withal, sir, you must swear, and put your oath  
Under your hand, (shake not) ne'er to frequent  
This lady's company, nor ever send  
Token, or message, or letter, to incline  
This (too much prone already) yielding Lady.  Nou. 
'Tis done, sir.  Rom. 
Let me see, this first is right,  
And here you wish a sudden death may light  
Upon your body, and hell take your soul,  
If ever more you see her, but by chance,  
Much less allure her. Now, my Lord, your hand.  Nou. 
My hand to this?  Rom. 
Your heart else I assure you.  Nou. 
Nay, there 'tis.  Rom. 
So keep this last article  
Of your faith given, and stead of threatenings sir,  
The service of my sword and life is yours:  
But not a word of it, 'tis Fairy's treasure;  
Which but revealed, brings on the blabbers, ruin.  
Use your youth better, and this excellent form  
Heaven hath bestowed upon you. So good morrow to your Lordship.  Nou. 
Good devil to your rogueship. No man's safe:  
I'll have a Cannon planted in my chamber, Exit.  
Against such roaring rogues.  Enter Bellapert. Bell. 
My Lord away  
The Coach stays: now have your wish, and judge,  
If I have been forgetful.  Nou. 
Ha?  Bell. 
D''ee stand  
Humming and hawing now? Exit.  Nou. 
Sweet wench, I come.  
Hence fear,  
I swore, that's all one, my next oath I 'll keep  
That I did mean to break, and then 'tis quit.  
No pain is due to lover's perjury.  
If love himself laugh at it, so will I. Exit Novall,   
Scena 2. Enter Charaloys, Beaumont. Bau. 
I grieve for the distaste, though I have manners,  
Not to inquire the cause, fall'n out between  
Your Lordship and Romont.  Cha. 
I love a friend,  
So long as he continues in the bounds  
Prescribed by friendship, but when he usurps  
Too far on what is proper to myself,  
And puts the habit of a Governor on,  
I must and will preserve my liberty.  
But speak of something, else this is a theme  
I take no pleasure in: what's this Aymeire,  
Whose voice for Song, and excellent knowledge in  
The chiefest parts of Music, you bestow  
Such praises on?  Bau. 
He is a Gentleman,  
(For so his quality speaks him) well received  
Among our greatest Gallants; but yet holds  
His main dependence from the young Lord Novall:  
Some tricks and crotchets he has in his head,  
As all Musicians have, and more of him  
I dare not author: but when you have heard him,  
I may presume, your Lordship so will like him,  
That you'll hereafter be a friend to Music.  Cha. 
I never was an enemy to't, Baumont,  
Nor yet do I subscribe to the opinion  
Of those old Captains, that thought nothing musical,  
But cries of yielding enemies, neighing of horses,  
Clashing of armour, loud shouts, drums, and trumpets:  
Nor on the other side in favour of it,  
Affirm the world was made by musical discord,  
Or that the happiness of our life consists  
In a well varied note upon the Lute:  
I love it to the worth of it, and no further.  
But let us see this wonder.  Bau. 
He prevents my calling of him.  Aym. 
Let the Coach be brought Enter Aymiere.  
To the back gate, and serve the banquet up:  
My good Lord Charalois, I think my house  
Much honoured in your presence.  Cha. 
To have means,  
To know you better, sir, has brought me hither  
A willing visitant, and you'll crown my welcome  
In making me a witness to your skill,  
Which crediting from others I admire.  Aym. 
Had I been one hour sooner made acquainted  
With your intent my Lord, you should have found me  
Better provided: now such as it is,  
Pray you grace with your acceptance.  Bau. 
You are modest.  Aym. 
Begin the last new air.  Cha. 
Shall we not see them?  Aym. 
This little distance from the instruments  
Will to your ears convey the harmony  
With more delight.  Cha. 
I'll not consent.  Aym. 
Y'are tedious,  
By this means shall I with one banquet please  
Two companies, those within and these Gulls here.  Song above. Music and a Song, Beaumelle within— ha, ha, ha. Cha. 
How's this? It is my Ladies laugh; most certain  
When I first pleased her, in this merry language,  
She gave me thanks.  Bau. 
How like you this?  Cha. 
'Tis rare,  
Yet I may be deceived, and should be sorry  
Upon uncertain suppositions, rashly  
To write myself in the black list of those  
I have declaimed against, and to Romont.  Aym. 
I would he were well of— perhaps your Lordship  
Likes not these sad tunes, I have a new Song  
Set to a lighter note, may please you better;  
'Tis called The happy husband.  Cha. 
Pray sing it.  Song below. At the end of the Song, Beaumelle within. Beau. 
Ha, ha, 'tis such a groom.  Ca. 
Do I hear this, and yet stand doubtful? Exit Chara  Aym. 
Stay him I am undone,  
And they discovered.  Bau. 
What's the matter?  Aym. 
Ah!  
That women, when they are well pleased, cannot hold,  
But must laugh out. Enter Novall lu. Charaloys, Beaumely, Bellapert.  Nou. 
Help, save me, murder, murder.  Bean. 
Undone forever.  Cha. 
Oh, my heart!  
Hold yet a little— do not hope to scape  
By flight, it is impossible: though I might  
On all advantage take thy life, and justly;  
This sword, my father's sword, that ne'er was drawn,  
But to a noble purpose, shall not now  
Do th' office of a hangman, I reserve it  
To right mine honour, not for a revenge  
So poor, that though with thee, it should cut off  
Thy family, with all that are allied  
To thee in lust, or baseness, 'twere still short of  
All terms of satisfaction. Draw.  Nou. 
I dare not,  
I have already done you too much wrong,  
To fight in such a cause.  Cha. 
Why, darest thou neither  
Be honest, coward, nor yet valiant, knave?  
In such a cause come do not shame thyself  
Such whose bloods wrongs, or wrong done to themselves  
Could never heat, are yet in the defence  
Of their whores, daring look on her again.  
You thought her worth the hazard of your soul,  
And yet stand doubtful in her quarrel, to  
Venture your body.  Bau. 
No, he fears his clothes, more than his flesh  Cha. 
Keep from me, guard thy life,  
Or as thou hast lived like a goat, thou shalt  
Die like a sheep.  Nou. 
Since there's no remedy They fight, Novall is slain.  
Despair or safety now in me prove courage.  Cha. 
How soon weak wrong's o'erthrown lend me your hand,  
Bear this to the caroche— come, you have taught me  
To say you must and shall: I wrong you not,  
Y'are but to keep him company you love.  
Is't done? 'tis well. Raise officers, and take care,  
All you can apprehend within the house  
May be forth coming. Do I appear much moved?  Bau. 
No sir.  Cha. 
My griefs are now, Thus to be borne  
Hereafter I'll find time and place to mourn.  Exeunt.  
Scaena 3. Enter Romont, Pontalier. Pont. 
I was bound to seek you, sir.  Rom. 
And had you found me  
In any place, but in the street, I should  
Have done,— not talked to you. Are you the Captain?  
The hopeful Pontalier? whom I have seen  
Do in the field such service, as then made you  
Their envy that commanded, here at home  
To play the parasite to a gilded knave,  
And it may be the Pander.  Pont. 
Without this  
I come to call you to account, for what  
Is passed already. I by your example  
Of thankfulness to the dead General  
By whom you were raised, have practised to be so  
To my good Lord Novall, by whom I live;  
Whose least disgrace that is, or may be offered,  
With all the hazard of my life and fortunes,  
I will make good on you, or any man,  
That has a hand in't; and since you allow me  
A Gentleman and a soldier, there's no doubt  
You will except against me. You shall meet  
With a fair enemy, you understand  
The right I look for, and must have.  Rom. 
I do,  
And with the next day's sun you shall hear from me.  Exeunt.  
Scaena 4. Enter Charalois with a casket, Beaumelle, Baumont. Cha. 
Pray bear this to my father, at his leisure  
He may peruse it: but with your best language  
Entreat his instant presence: you have sworn  
Not to reveal what I have done.  Bau. 
Nor will I— but—  Cha. 
Doubt me not, by Heaven, I will do nothing  
But what may stand with honour: Pray you leave me  
To my own thoughts. If this be to me, rise;  
I am not worthy the looking on, but only  
To feed contempt and scorn, and that from you  
Who with the loss of your fair name have caused it,  
Were too much cruelty.  Beau. 
I dare not move you  
To hear me speak I know my fault is far  
Beyond qualification, or excuse,  
That 'tis not fit for me to hope, or you  
To think of mercy; only I presume  
To entreat, you would be pleased to look upon  
My sorrow for it, and believe, these tears  
Are the true children of my grief and not  
A woman's cunning.  Cha. 
Can you Beaumelle,  
Having deceived so great a trust as mine,  
Though I were all credulity, hope again  
To get belief? no, no, if you look on me  
With pity or dare practise any means  
To make my sufferings less, or give just cause  
To all the world, to think what I must do,  
Was called upon by you, use other ways,  
Deny what I have seen, or justify  
What you have done, and as you desperately  
Made shipwreck of your faith to be a whore,  
Use th' arms of such a one, and such defence,  
And multiply the sin, with impudence,  
Stand boldly up, and tell me to my teeth,  
You have done but what's warranted,  
By great examples, in all places, where  
Women inhabit, urge your own deserts,  
Or want of me in merit; tell me how,  
Your dowry from the low gulf of poverty,  
Weighed up my fortunes, to what now they are:  
That I was purchased by your choice, and practise  
To shelter you from shame: that you might sin  
As boldly as securely, that poor men  
Are married to those wives that bring them wealth,  
One day their husbands, but observers ever:  
That when by this proved usage you have blown  
The fire of my just vengeance to the height.  
I then may kill you: and yet say 'twas done  
In heat of blood, and after die myself,  
To witness my repentance.  Beau. 
O my fate,  
That never would consent that I should see,  
How worthy thou wert both of love and duty  
Before I lost you; and my misery made  
The glass, in which I now behold your virtue:  
While I was good, I was a part of you,  
And of two by the virtuous harmony  
Of our fair minds, made one: but since I wandered  
In the forbidden Labyrinth of lust,  
What was inseparable, is by me divided.  
With justice therefore you may cut me off,  
And from your memory, wash the remembrance  
That ere I was like to some vicious purpose  
Within your better judgement, you repent of  
And study to forget.  Cha. 
O Beaumelle,  
That you can speak so well, and do so ill!  
But you had been too great a blessing, if  
You had continued chaste: see how you force me  
To this, because mine honour will not yield  
That I again should love you.  Beau. 
In this life  
It is not fit you should: yet you shall find,  
Though I was bold enough to be a strumpet,  
I dare not yet live one: let those famed matrons  
That are canonised worthy of our sex,  
Transcend me in their sanctity of life,  
I yet will squall them in dying nobly,  
Ambitious of no honour after life,  
But that when I am dead, you will forgive me.  Cha. 
How pity steals upon me! should I hear her  
But ten words more, I were lost— one knocks, go in. Knock within. Exit Beaumelle.  
That to be merciful should be a sin.  
O, sir, most welcome. Let me take your cloak, Exit Beaumelle. Enter Rochfort.  
I must not be denied— here are your robes,  
As you love justice once more put them on:  
There is a cause to be determined of  
That does require such an integrity,  
As you have ever used— I'll put you to  
The trial of your constancy, and goodness:  
And look that you that have been eagle-eyed  
In other men's affairs, prove not a Mole  
In what concerns yourself. Take you your seats  
I will be for you presently. Exit.  Roch. 
Angels guard me,  
To what strange Tragedy does this destruction  
Serve for a Prologue? Enter Charalois, with noval's body. Beaumelle, Baumont.  Cha. 
So, set it down before  
The judgement seat, and stand you at the bar:  
For me? I am the accuser. Roch. Novall slain,  
And Beaumelle my daughter in the place  
Of one to be arraigned.  Cha. 
O, are you touched?  
I find that I must take another course,  
Fear nothing. I will only blind your eyes,  
For justice should do so, when 'tis to meet  
an object that may sway her equal doom  
From what it should be aimed at.— Good my Lord,  
A day of hearing.  Roch. 
It is granted, speak— you shall have justice.  Cha. 
I then here accuse,  
Most equal judge, the prisoner your fair Daughter.  
For whom I owed so much to you: your daughter,  
So worthy in her own parts: and that worth  
Set forth by yours, to whose so rare perfections,  
Truth witness with me, in the place of service  
I almost paid Idolatrous sacrifice  
To be a false adultress.  Roch. 
With whom?  Cha. 
With this Novall here dead.  Roch 
Be well advised  
And ere you say adultress again,  
Her fame depending on it, be most sure  
That she is one.  Cha. 
I took them in the act.  
I know no proof beyond it.  Roch. 
O my heart.  Cha. 
A judge should feel no passions.  Roch. 
Yet remember  
He is a man, and cannot put off nature.  
What answer makes the prisoner?  Beau. 
I confess  
The fact I am charged with, and yield myself  
Most miserably guilty.  Roch. 
Heaven take mercy  
Upon your soul them it must leave your body.  
Now free mine eyes, I dare unmoved look on her.  
And fortify my sentence, with strong reasons.  
Since that the politic law provides that servants,  
To whose care we commit our goods shall die,  
If they abuse our trust: what can you look for,  
To whose charge this most hopeful Lord gave up  
All he received from his brave Ancestors,  
Or he could leave to his posterity?  
His Honour, wicked woman, in whose safety  
All this life's joys, and comforts were locked up,  
With thy lust, a thief hath now stolen from him,  
And therefore—  Cha. 
Stay, just judge, may not what's lost  
By her own fault, (for I am charitable,  
And charge her not with many) be forgotten  
In her fair life hereafter?  Roch. 
Never, Sir.  
The wrong that's done to the chaste married bed,  
Repentant tears can never expiate,  
And be assured, to pardon such a sin,  
Is an offence as great as to commit it.  Cha. 
I may not then forgive her.  Roch. 
Nor she hope it.  
Nor can she wish to live no sun shall rise,  
But ere it set, shall show her ugly lust  
In a new shape, and every on more horrid:  
Nay, even those prayers, which with such humble fervour  
She seems to send up yonder, are beat back,  
And all suits, which her penitence can proffer,  
As soon as made, are with contempt thrown  
Off all the courts of mercy. He kills her.  Cha. 
Let her die then.  
Better prepared I am. Sure I could not take her,  
Nor she accuse her father, as a judge  
Partial against her.  Beau. 
I approve his sentence,  
And kiss the executioner: my lust  
Is now run from me in that blood in which  
It was begot and nourished.  Roch. 
Is she dead then?  Cha. 
Yes, sir, this is her heart blood, is it not?  
I think it be.  Roch. 
And you have killed her?  Cha. 
True, and did it by your doom  Roch. 
But I pronounced it  
As a judge only, and friend to justice,  
And zealous in defence of your wronged honour,  
Broke all the ties of nature: and cast off  
The love and soft affection of a father.  
I in your cause, put on a Scarlet robe  
Of red died cruelty, but in return,  
You have advanced for me no flag of mercy:  
I looked on you, as a wronged husband, but  
You closed your eyes against me, as a father.  
O Beaumelle, my daughter.  Cha. 
This is madness.  Roch. 
Keep from me— could not one good thought rise up,  
To tell you that she was my age's comfort,  
Begot by a weak man, and borne a woman,  
And could not therefore, but partake of frailty?  
Or wherefore did not thankfulness step forth,  
To urge my many merits, which I may  
Object unto you, since you prove ungrateful,  
Flinty-hearted Charaloys?  Cha. 
Nature does prevail above your virtue.  Roch. 
No: it gives me eyes,  
To pierce the heart of design against me.  
I find it now, it was may state was aimed at,  
A nobler match was sought for, and the hours  
I lived, grew tedious to you: my compassion  
Towards you hath rendered me most miserable,  
And foolish charity undone myself:  
But there's a Heaven above, from whose just wreak  
No mists of policy can hide offenders. Enter Novall se. with Officers.  Nou. senior 
Force open the doors— O monster, cannibal,  
Lay hold on him, my son, my son.— O Rochfort,  
'Twas you gave liberty to this bloody wolf  
To worry all our comforts,— But this is  
No time to quarrel; now give your assistance  
For the revenge.  Roch. 
Call it a fitter name— justice for innocent blood.  Cha. 
Though all conspire  
Against that life which I am weary of,  
A little longer yet I'll strive to keep it,  
To show in spite of malice, and their laws,  
His plea must speed that hath an honest cause. Exeunt.    

Actus quintus. Scaena prima  
Enter Liladam, Taylor, Officers. Lila. 
WHy 'tis both most unconscionable, and untimely  
T' arrest a gallant for his clothes, before  
He has worn them out: beside you said you asked  
My name in my Lords bond but for me only,  
And now you'll lay me up for't. Do not think  
The taking measure of a customer  
By a brace of varlets though I rather wait  
Never so patiently, will prove a fashion  
Which any Courtier or Innes of court man  
Would follow willingly.  Tayl. 
There I believe you.  
But sir, I must have present moneys, or  
Assurance to secure me, when I shall.—  
Or I will see to your coming forth.  Lila. 
Plague on't,  
You have provided for my entrance in:  
That coming forth you talk of, concerns me.  
What shall I do? you have done me a disgrace  
In the arrest, but more in giving cause  
To all the street, to think I cannot stand  
Without these two supporters for my arms:  
Pray you let them lose me: for their satisfaction  
I will not run away.  Tayl. 
For theirs you will not,  
But for your own you would; look to them fellows.  Lila. 
Why do you call them fellows? do not wrong  
Your reputation so, as you are merely  
A tailor, faithful, apt to believe in Gallants  
You are a companion at a ten crown supper  
For cloth of bodkin, and may with one Lark  
Eat up three manchets, and no man observe you,  
Or call your trade in question for't. But when  
You study your debt-book, and hold correspondence  
With officers of the hanger, and leave swordmen,  
The learned conclude, the tailor and Sergeant  
In the expression of a knave are these  
To be Synonima. Look therefore to it,  
And let us part in peace, I would be loath  
You should undo yourself.  Tayl. 
To let you go Enter old Novall, and Pontalier.  
Were the next way.  
But see! here's your old Lord,  
Let him but give his word I shall be paid,  
And you are free.  Lila. 
'slid, I will put him to't:  
I can be but denied: or what say you?  
His Lordship owing me three times your debt,  
If you arrest him at my suit, and let me  
Go run before to see the action entered.  
'Twould be a witty jest.  Tayl. 
I must have earnest:  
I cannot pay my debts so.  Pont. 
Can your Lordship  
Imagine, while I live and wear a sword,  
Your son's death shall be revenged?  Nou se. 
I know not  
One reason why you should not do like others:  
I am sure, of all the herd that fed upon him,  
I cannot see in any, now he's gone,  
In pity or in thankfulness one true sign  
Of sorrow for him.  Pont. 
All his bounties yet  
Fell not in such unthankful ground: 'tis true  
He had weaknesses, but such as few are free from,  
And though none soothed them less than I: for now  
To say that I foresaw the dangers that  
Would rise from cherishing them, were but untimely.  
I yet could wish the justice that you seek for  
In the revenge, had been trusted to me,  
And not the uncertain issue of the laws:  
'Thas robbed me of a noble testimony  
Of what I durst do for him: but however,  
My forfeit life redeemed by him though dead,  
Shall do him service.  Nou. se. 
As far as my grief  
Will give me leave, I thank you.  Lila. 
Oh my Lord,  
Oh my good Lord, deliver me from these furies.  Pont. 
Arrested? This is one of them whose base  
And object flattery helped to dig his grave:  
He is not worth your pity, nor my anger.  
Go to the basket and repent.  Nou. se. 
Away I only know now to hate thee deadly:  
I will do nothing for thee.  Lila. 
Nor you, Captain.  Pont. 
No, to your trade again, put off this case,  
It may be the discovering what you were,  
When your unfortunate master took you up,  
May move compassion in your creditor.  
Confess the truth. Exit Nouall se. Pont.  Lila. 
And now I think on't better,  
I will, brother, your hand, your hand, sweet brother.  
I am of your sect, and my gallantry but a dream,  
Out of which these two fearful apparitions  
Against my will have waked me. This rich sword  
Grew suddenly out of a tailor's bodkin;  
These hangers from my vails and fees in Hell:  
And where as now this beaver sits, full often  
A thrifty cape composed of broad cloth lists,  
Here kin unto the cushion where I sat  
cross-legged, and yet ungartered, hath been seen,  
Our breakfasts famous for the buttered loaves,  
I have with joy been oft acquainted with,  
And therefore use a conscience, though it be  
Forbidden in our hall towards other men,  
To me that as I have been, will again  
Be of the brotherhood.  Offi. 
I know him now:  
He was a prentice to Le Robe at Orleans.  Lila. 
And from thence brought by my young Lord, now dead,  
Unto Dijon, and with him till this hour  
Hath been received here for a complete monsieur.  
Nor wonder at it: for but tithe our gallants,  
Even those of the first rank, and you will find  
In every ten, one: peradventure two,  
That smell rank of the dancing school, or fiddle,  
The pantofle or pressing iron: but hereafter  
we'll talk of this. I will surrender up  
My suits again: there cannot be much loss,  
'Tis but the turning of the lace, with ones  
Additions more you know of, and what wants  
I will work out.  Tayl. 
Then here our quarrel ends.  
The gallant is turned tailor, and all friends. Exeunt.   
Scaena 2. Enter Romont, Baumont. Rom. 
You have them ready.  Bau. 
Yes, and they will speak  
Their knowledge in this cause, when thou thinkst fit  
To have them called upon.  Rom. 
'Tis well, and something  
I can add to their evidence, to prove  
This brave revenge, which they would have called murder,  
A noble justice.  Bau. 
In this you express  
(The breach by my Lords want of you, new made up)  
A faithful friend.  Rom. 
That friendship's raised on sand,  
Which every sudden gust of discontent,  
Or flowing of our passions can change,  
As if it ne'er had been: but do you know  
Who are to sit on him?  Bau. 
monsieur Du  
Assisted by Charmi.  Rom. 
The Advocate  
That pleaded for the Marshals funeral,  
And was checked for it by Novall.  Bau. 
The same.  Rom. 
How fortunes that?  Bau. 
Why, sir, my Lord Novall  
Being the accuser, cannot be the judge,  
Nor would grieve Roshfort, but Lord Charaloys  
(However he might wrong him by his power,)  
Should have an equal hearing.  Rom. 
By my hopes.  
Of Charaloys acquittal, I lament  
That reverent old man's fortune.  Bau. 
Had you seen him,  
As to my grief I have now promised patience,  
And ere it was believed, though spoken by him  
That never broke his word, enraged again  
So far as to make war upon those heirs,  
Which not a barbarous Scythian durst presume  
To touch, but with a superstitious fear,  
As something sacred, and then curse his daughter,  
But with more frequent violence himself,  
As if he had been guilty of her fault,  
By being incredulous of your report,  
You would not only judge him worthy pity,  
But suffer with him. Enter Charalois, with Officers.  
But here comes the prisoner,  
I dare not stay to do my duty to him,  
Yet rest assured, all possible means in me  
To do him service, keeps you company. Exit Bau.  Rom. 
It is not doubted.  Cha. 
Why, yet as I came hither,  
The people apt to mock calamity,  
And tread on the oppressed, made no hormes at me,  
Though they are too familiar: I deserve them.  
And knowing what blood my sword hath drunk  
In wreak of that disgrace, they yet forbore  
To shake their heads, or to revile me for  
A murderer, they rather all put on  
(As for great losses the old Romans used)  
A general face of sorrow, weighted on  
By a sad murmur breaking through their silence,  
And no eye but was readier with a tear  
To witness 'twas shed for me, than I could  
Discern a face made up with scorn against me.  
Why should I then, though for unusual wrongs  
I chose unusual means to right those wrongs,  
Condemn myself, as over-partial  
In my own cause Romont?  Rom. 
Best friend, well met,  
By my heart's love to you, and join to that,  
My thankfulness that still lives to the dead,  
I look upon you now with more true joy,  
Then when I saw you married.  Cha. 
You have reason  
To give you warrant for't; my falling off  
From such a friendship with the scorn that answered  
Your too prophetic counsel, may well move you  
To think, your meeting me going to my death,  
A fit encounter for that hate which justly  
I have deserved from you.  Rom. 
Shall I still then  
Speak truth, and be ill understood?  Cha. 
You are not.  
I am conscious, I have wronged you, and allow me  
Only a moral man to look on you,  
Whom foolishly I have abused and injured,  
Must of necessity be more terrible to me,  
Than any death the judges can pronounce  
From the tribunal which I am to plead at.  Rom. 
Passion transports you.  Cha. 
For what I have done  
To my false Lady, or Novall, I can  
Give some apparent cause: but touching you,  
In my defence, childlike, I can say nothing,  
But I am sorry for't, a poor satisfaction:  
And yet mistake me not: for it is more  
Than I will speak, to have my pardon signed  
For all I stand accused of.  Rom. 
You much weaken the strength of your good cause,  
Should you but think  
A man for doing well could entertain  
A pardon, were it offered, you have given  
To blind and slow-paced justice, wings, and eyes  
To see and overtake impieties,  
Which from a cold proceeding had received  
Indulgence or protection.  Cha. 
Think you so?  Rom. 
Upon my soul nor should the blood you challenge  
And took to cure your honour, breed more scruple  
In your soft conscience, then if your sword  
Had been sheathed in a Tiger, or she Bear,  
That in their bowels would have made your tomb  
To injure innocence is more than murder:  
But when inhuman lusts transform us, then  
As beasts we are to suffer, not like men  
To be lamented. Nor did Charalois ever  
Perform an act so worthy the applause  
Of a full theater of perfect men,  
As he hath done in this: the glory got  
By overthrowing outward enemies,  
Since strength and fortune are main sharers in it,  
We cannot but by pieces call our own:  
But when we conquer our intestine foes,  
Our passions breed within us, and of those  
The most rebellious tyrant powerful love,  
Our reason suffering us to like no longer  
Then the fair object being good deserves it,  
That's true victory, which, were great men  
Ambitious to achieve, by your example  
Setting no price upon the breach of faith,  
But loss of life, 'twould fright adultery  
Out of their families, and make lust appear  
As loathsome to us in the first consent,  
As when 'tis waited on by punishment.  Cha. 
You have confirmed me. Who would love a woman  
That might enjoy in such a man, a friend?  
You have made me know the justice of my cause,  
And marked me out the way, how to defend it.  Rom. 
Continue to that resolution constant,  
And you shall, in contempt of their worst malice,  
Come off with honour. Here they come.  Cha. 
I am ready.   
Scana 3. Enter Du Croy, Charmi, Rochfort, Novall se. Pontalier, Baumont. Nou. se. 
See, equal judges, with what confidence  
The cruel murderer stands, as if he would  
Outface the Court and justice  Roch. 
But look on him,  
And you shall find, for still methinks I do,  
Though guilt hath died him black, something good in him,  
That may perhaps work with a wiser man  
Than I have been, again to set him free  
And give him all he has.  Charmi. 
This is not well.  
I would you had lived so, my Lord that I,  
Might rather have continued your poor servant.  
Then sit here as your judge.  Du. 
I am sorry for you.  Roch. 
In no act of my life I have discerned  
This injury from the court, that any here  
Should thus uncivilly usurp on what  
Is proper to me only.  Du Cr. 
What distaste  
Receives my Lord?  Roch 
You say you are sorry for him:  
A grief in which I must not have a partner  
'Tis I alone am sorry, that I raised  
The building of my life for seventy years  
Upon so sure a ground, that all the vices  
Practised to ruin man, though brought against me,  
Could never undermine, and no way left  
To send these grey hairs to the grave with sorrow.  
Virtue that was my patroness, betrayed me:  
For entering, nay, possessing this young man,  
It lent him such a powerful Majesty  
To grace whate'er he undertook, that freely  
I gave myself up with my liberty,  
To be at his disposing; had his person,  
Lonely I must confess, or far feigned valour,  
Or any other seeming good, that yet  
Holds a near neighbourhood, with ill wrought on me,  
I might have borne it better: but when goodness  
And piety itself in her best figure  
Were bribed to my destruction, can you blame me,  
Though I forget to suffer like a man,  
Or rather act a woman?  Bau. 
Good my Lord.  Nou. se. 
You hinder our proceeding.  Charmi. 
And forget  
The parts of an accuser.  Bau. 
Pray you remember  
To use the temper which to me you promised;  Roch. 
Angels themselves must break Baumont, that promise  
Beyond the strength and patience of Angels.  
But I have done, my good Lord, pardon me  
A weak old man, and pray add to that  
A miserable father, yet be careful  
That your compassion of my age, nor his,  
Move you to any thing, that may disbecome  
The place on which you fit  Charmi. 
Read the Indictment.  Cha. 
It shall be needless, I myself, my Lords,  
Will be my own accuser, and confess  
All they can charge me with, or will I spare  
To aggravate that guilt with circumstance  
They seek to load me with: only I pray,  
That as for them you will vouchsafe me hearing:  
I may not be denied it for myself,  
When I shall urge by what unanswerable reasons  
I was compelled to what I did, which yet  
Till you have taught me better, I repent not.  Roch. 
The motion honest.  Charmi. 
And 'tis freely granted.  Cha. 
Then I confess my Lords, that I stood bound,  
When with my friends, even hope itself had left me  
To this man's charity for my liberty,  
Nor did his bounty end there, but began:  
For after my enlargement, cherishing  
The good he did, he made me master of  
His only daughter, and his whole estate:  
Great ties of thankfulness I must acknowledge,  
Could any one freed by you, press this further?  
But yet consider, my most honoured Lords,  
If to receive a favour, make a servant,  
And benefits are bonds to tie the taker  
To the imperious will of him that gives,  
there's none but slaves will receive courtesy.  
Since they must fetter us to our dishonours.  
Can it be called magnificence in a Prince,  
To pour down riches, with a liberal hand,  
Upon a poor man's wants, if that must bind him  
To play the soothing parasite to his vices?  
Or any man, because he saved my hand,  
Presume my head and heart are at his service?  
Or did I stand engaged to buy my freedom  
(When my captivity was honourable)  
By making myself here and fame hereafter,  
Bondslaues to men's scorn and calumnious tongues?  
Had his fair daughter's mind been like her feature,  
Or for some little blemish I had sought  
For my content elsewhere, wasting on others  
My body and her dowry; my forehead then  
Deserved the brand of base ingratitude:  
But if obsequious usage, and fair warning  
To keep her worth my love, could preserve her  
From being a whore, and yet no cunning one,  
So to offend, and yet the fault kept from me?  
What should I do? let any freeborn spirit  
Determine truly, if that thankfulness,  
Choice form with the whole world given for a dowry  
Could strengthen so an honest man with patience,  
As with a willing neck to undergo  
The insupportable yoke of slave or wit toll.  Charm. 
What proof have you she did play false, besides your oath?  Cha. 
Her own confession to her father.  
I ask him for a witness.  Roch. 
'Tis most true.  
I would not willingly blend my last words  
With an untruth.  Cha. 
And then to clear myself,  
That his great wealth was not the mark I shot at,  
But that I held it, when fair Beaumelle  
Fell from her virtue, like the fatal gold  
Which Brennus took from Delphos, whose possession  
Brought with it ruin to himself and Army.  
here's one in Court, Baumont, by whom I sent  
All grants and writings back, which made it mine,  
Before his daughter died by his own sentence,  
As freely as unasked he gave it to me.  Bau. 
They are here to be seen.  Charmi. 
Open the casket.  
Peruse that deed of gift.  Rom. 
Half of the danger  
Already is discharged: the other part  
As bravely, and you are not only free,  
But crowned with praise for ever.  Du. 
'Tis apparent.  Charmi. 
Your state, my Lord, again is yours.  Roch. 
Not mine,  
I am not of the world, if it can prosper,  
(And yet being justly got, I'll not examine  
Why it should be so fatal) do you bestow it  
On pious uses. I'll go seek a grave.  
And yet for proof, I die in peace, your pardon  
I ask, and as you grant it me, may Heaven  
Your conscience, and these judges free you from Exit Roch.  
What you are charged with. So farewell for ever.—  Nouall se. 
I'll be mine own guide. Passion, nor example  
Shall be my leaders. I have lost a son,  
A son, grave judges, I require his blood  
From his accursed homicide.  Charmi. 
What reply you  
In your defence for this?  Cha. 
ay but attended  
Your Lordship's pleasure. For the fact, as of  
The former, I confess it, but with what  
Base wrongs I was unwillingly drawn to it,  
To my few words there are some other proofs  
To witness this for truth, when I was married:  
For there I must begin. The slain Novall  
Was to my wife, in way of our French courtship,  
A most devoted servant, but yet aimed at  
Nothing but means to quench his wanton heat,  
His heart being never warmed by lawful fires  
As mine was (Lords:) and though on these presumptions,  
joined to the hate between his house and mine,  
I might with opportunity and ease  
have found a way for my revenge, I did not;  
But still he had the freedom as before  
When all was mine, and told that he abused it  
With some unseemly licence, by my friend  
My approved friend Romont. I gave no credit  
To the reporter, but reproved him for it,  
As one uncourtly and malicious to him.  
What could I more, my Lords? yet after this  
He did continue in his first pursuit  
Hotter than ever, and at length obtained it;  
But how it came to my most certain knowledge,  
For the dignity of the court and my own honour  
I dare not say.  Nou se. 
If all may be believed  
A passionate prisoner speaks, who is so foolish  
That durst be wicked, that will appear guilty?  
No, my grave Lords: in his impunity  
But give example unto jealous men  
To cut the throats they hate, and they will never  
Want matter or pretence for their bad ends.  Charmi. 
You must find other proofs to strengthen these  
But mere presumptions.  Du. 
Or we shall hardly  
Allow your innocence.  Cha. 
All your attempts  
Shall fall on me, like brittle shafts on armour,  
That break themselves; or like waves against a rock,  
That leave no sign of their ridiculous fury  
But foam and splinters, my innocence like these  
Shall stand triumphant, and your malice serve  
But for a trumpet to proclaim my conquest;  
Nor shall you, though you do the worst fate can,  
howe'er condemn, affright an honest man.  Rom. 
May it please the Court, I may be heard.  Nou. se. 
You come not  
To rail again? but do, you shall not find  
Another Rochfort.  Rom. 
In Novall I cannot.  
But I come furnished with what will stop  
The mouth of his conspiracy against the life  
Of innocent Charaloys. Do you know this Character?  Nou. se. 
Yes, 'tis my sons.  Rom. 
May it please your Lordships, read it,  
And you shall find there, with what vehemency  
He did solicit Beaumelle, how he had got  
A promise from her to enjoy his wishes,  
How after he abjured her company,  
And yet, but that 'tis fit I spare the dead,  
Like a damned villain, as soon as recorded,  
He broke that oath, to make this manifest.  
Produce his bands and hers.  Enter Aymer, Florimell, Bellapert. Charmi. 
Have they took their oaths?  Rom. 
They have and rather than endure the rack,  
Confess the time, the meeting, nay the act;  
What would you more? only this matron made  
A free discovery to a good end;  
And therefore I sue to the Court, she may not  
Be placed in the black list of the delinquents.  Pont. 
I see by this, noval's revenge needs me,  
And I shall do.  Charmi. 
'Tis evident.  Nou. se. 
That I  
Till now was never wretched, here's no place  
To curse him or my stars. Exit Novall senior.  Charmi. 
Lord Charalois,  
The injuries you have sustained, appear  
So worthy of the mercy of the Court,  
That notwithstanding you have gone beyond  
The letter of the Law, they yet acquit you.  Pont. 
But in Novall, I do condemn him thus.  Cha. 
I am slain.  Rom. 
Can I look on? Oh murderous wretch,  
Thy challenge now I answer to die with him,  Charmi. 
A guard: disarm him.  Rom. 
I yield up my sword  
Unforced. Oh Charlaloys.  Cha. 
For shame Romont,  
Mourn not for him that dies as he hath lived,  
Still constant and unmoved: what's fall'n upon me,  
Is by heaven's will, because I made myself  
A judge in my own cause without their warrant:  
But he that lets me know thus much in death,  
With all good men forgive me.  Pont. 
I receive the vengeance, which my love  
Not built on virtue, has made me worthy, worthy of.  Charmi. 
We are taught  
By this sad precedent, how just soever  
Our reasons are to remedy our wrongs,  
We are yet to leave them to their will and power,  
That to that purpose have authority.  
For you, Romont, although in your excuse  
You may plead, what you did, was in revenge  
Of the dishonour done unto the Court:  
Yet since from us you had not warrant for it,  
We banish you the State: for these, they shall,  
As they are found guilty, or innocent,  
Be set free, or suffer punishment. Exeunt omnes.    
FINIS.