THE DUKE's mistress, As IT WAS PRESENted by her Majesty's Servants, At the private House in Drury-Lane.  
Written by JAMES Shirley.  
 
LONDON, Printed by JOHN NORTON, for ANDREW crook and WILLIAM COOKE. 1638. 6   

The Prologue.  

SO various are the palates of our Age  
That nothing is presented on the Stage,  
Though ne'er so square, and apted to the Laws  
Of poesy, that can win full applause,  
This likes a story, that a cunning plot  
This wit, that lines, here one, he knows not what.  
But after all this looking several ways,  
We do observe the general guests to Plays,  
Meet in opinion of two strains: that please  
Satire, and wantonness, the last of these  
Though old, if in new dressing it appear  
Will move a smile from all, but shall not hear.  
Our Author hath no guilt of scurrile friends.  
For Satire they do know best what it means,  
That dare apply, and if a poet's Pen,  
Aiming at general errors not the men,  
'Tis not his fault, the safest cure is, they  
That purge their bosoms, may see any Play.  
But here we quit your fear of Satire too,  
And with these disadvantages to you  
Thus humbly bow, to such helps ta'en away  
What hope is there many will like the Play,  
But good or bad, have patience but two hours,  
The poet's credit is at stake with ours.    

THE DUKE's mistress  

Actus Primus.  Enter Silvio, and Valerio. Si. 
we are like to have a brave, and jolly time on't.  Va. 
The Court looks now as't should be, after such  
A tempest, what should follow but a calm,  
And sunbeams? where's the Duchess?  
And yet as the case stands, we can scarce give her  
That title, all her glory is eclipsed,  
she's i'th' west, poor gentlewoman I can  
But pity her, I mean Euphemia.  Sil. 
I dare not speak.  Val. 
Thou mayst speak any thing  
That's Courtly, and in fashion.  Sil. 
But the Duke.  Val. 
'Is Duke, and Heaven preserve him, let him have  
His humour, and his Mistresses, what are we  
The worse, nay let's consider like wise-men  
We are the better for't, it gives us liberty,  
And matter for our dutiful imitation.  Sil. 
But she was his Duchess.  Val. 
What then?  Sil. 
A Lady of,  
A flowing sweetness, and but in his eyes  
Can want no beauty, how her nature may  
Thus cruelly affronted, keep that soft,  
And noble temper.  Val. 
Take heed, and be wise,  
We are or should be Courtiers, if it please  
The Duke for reasons best known to himself  
To have more Wives, I say 'tis fit he have 'em,  
I make it my own ease.  Sil. 
Thou art not married.  Val. 
No, I dare not for that reason, cause I hold it  
Unfit my conscience should be limited,  
But we are private men, and though the Laws  
Have power on us, the State, and Dukedom may  
Suffer, if he that is the soul of all,  
I mean the Duke, should waste his life with one,  
One melancholy wife, come let me tell thee  
Since he has chosen one, that he thinks fairer  
'Tis happy for his first to keep her head on,  Sil. 
couldst thou have thought so cruel, 'las Euphemia  Val. 
No thou art deceived, if I were Duke  
'Tis ten to one I'd have no Wife at all,  Sil. 
How?  Val. 
Not of mine own, while any of my subjects  
Had those I could affect; whom I would have  
Presented by their husbands, they should do  
Themselves that courtesy, none would deny,  
Considering what may follow.  Sil. 
Besides horns.  Val. 
Right, if the toy be gamesome, the husbands made  
For ever.  Sil. 
Cuckold.  Val. 
And his Wife a great one,  
horn's excuse for all.  Sil. 
The old mind still.  Val. 
I know my constitution  Enter Leontio. 
His countenance wears some sore of discontent  
Does he not appear Cloudy.  Sil. 
Let's speak to him.  Val. 
My Lord,— my Lord.  
Not answer.  Sil. 
He does not hear.  
My noblest Lord.  Val. 
If I did think he were proud now of a sudden,  
I would not ask him how he does, to save  
His life— I'll speak once more, my worthiest Lord,  
Leontio.  Leo. 
Ha!  Val. 
I ha' wakened him.  Leo. 
Valerio, and Silvio.  
I am your servants.  Val. 
Not that we grudge our duties to your Lordship  
Or breath, for without flattery, I dare  
Be hoarse with praising, and with praying for you,  
But we would willingly have your Lordship take  
Notice, when we express our hearts to serve you.  Leo. 
Your pardon gentlemen, I am confident  
You have more virtue than to let me suffer in your opinions  Sil. 
You look sad.  Leo. 
Not I.  Val. 
And talk as you had but started from a dream,  
I dare not be too bold to inquire the cause,  
But your face will teach others melancholy.  Sil. 
Now in this general mirth it must appear,  
The greater wonder to behold your trouble.  Leo. 
I shall betray myself, keep in my passions.  Sil. 
there's something in't more than we apprehend.  Val. 
What should distract the freedom of your sole  
Kinsman, and only favourite to the Duke,  
The people's love too, and these seldom meet,  
The minion of the Soldiers, who honour you  
Most infinitely for your valour, and your bounty.  Leo. 
Flatter not gentlemen.  Val. 
I'll be your hind first.  
Eclipse not, Sir, the glories of your mind  
with this strange melancholy, I would not for  
My hopes the Duke should see this dulness, he  
May with unhappy jealousy interpret—  Leo. 
What Jealousy?  Val. 
I know not.  Leo. 
Is my heart transparent?  Val. 
Now joy revels in the Court,  
By his command, and his example too;  
Do not affront his pleasure, I am bold,  
But 'tis my zeal, that would not have you suffer,  
And you may give it pardon.  Leo. 
I must thank  
Thy love Valerio, thy heart does speak  
A noble friendship, you shall witness Gentlemen  
I will be very pleasant, keep, keep in  
Ye rebel thoughts, and take some other time  
To show your wildness.  Sil. 
Observed you that?  Val. 
Shall I be bold to ask your Lordship a question?  Leo. 
Any thing.  Ual. 
You will pardon the folly on't?  Leo. 
What is't? be clear with me.  Val. 
Are you not in love, my Lord?  Leo. 
In Love?  Val. 
I have shrewd conjectures.  Leo. 
From what?  Val. 
From these dull Symptoms, if you be  Leo. 
What then?  Ual. 
Let me be your Physician, 'tis a woman  
I must presume.  Leo. 
What does a man love else?  Val. 
There be those men are in love with their own clothes  
Their wits, their follies, their estates, themselves,  
But if you love a woman, let me advise you.  Sil. 
Hear him my Lord, his practice upon that sex  
Has made him learned.  Val. 
Something I have observed  
After a hundred Mistresses, I had been dull else,  
But to the point.  Leo. 
How would you advise me?  Val. 
I would not counsel you not to love at all,  
As some that are all satire, 'gainst the sex,  
Love me a handsome Lady, but so love her  
That still your heart find room for a fresh beauty,  
For twenty, for a thousand.  Leo. 
Is inconstancy  
So easy, and so pardonable.  Ual. 
Whyye shift  
Your shirt, the linen's fine, but not so clean  
And sweet after a Journey, 'tis a Justice  
To change: and a security a woman  
Is Tyrant, when she finds a dotage, Love  
But wisely, to delight our hearts, not ruin 'em  
With too severe impression.  Leo. 
Prithee tell me,  
What do most men desire that are in love?  Val. 
In this wise love I mean? why, my Lord, they  
Desire to enjoy their Mistresses, what else  
Can be expected? and 'tis necessary  
In my opinion.  Leo. 
Hadst thou been woman,  
Thou wod'st not have been so cruel.  Val. 
Troth, my Lord,  
I know not how the sex might have corrupted me  
But had I been Adonis, without question  
My Lady Venus should have had no cause  
To accuse my bashfulness, I should have left  
The Forest to have hunted—  Leo. 
I believe it.  Val. 
But I must be content.  Sil. 
Nothing will much trouble thy head Valerio.  Val. 
I do not vex myself with much inquiry  
What men do in the Indies, or what Trade  
The great turk's on, nor what his design is,  
Nor does the State at home much trouble me,  
After the wars I enjoy my limbs, and can  
Boast some activity, until some woman  
In kindness take me down, be ruled by me,  
Employ your spring and youth upon those Joys  
They are fit for, beget a new Elysium,  
Under some pleasing shade let's lie and laugh  
Our Temples crowned with Roses, with the choice,  
And richest blood of Grapes, quicken our veins,  
Some fair cheeked boys skinking our swelling Cups,  
And we with Jovial souls shooting them round  
At each man's lip a Mistress.  Sil. 
I did look for this before.  Val. 
They in this Bower  
Shall with their Songs, and Music charm our ears,  
And nimbly dance, their bright hair loosely spread;  
Nor shall they more their amorous beauties hide  
Then those contended for the golden Ball.  Leo. 
Thou wod'st imagine many fine devices  
But after all these pleasures, as there is  
A limit, and a period set, what will  
Succeed these raptures, when they are past enjoyings  
But leave so many stings upon our thoughts.  Val. 
We won't think of that, or if we do,  
we'll venture upon Fortune's courtesy.  Leo. 
Thou art resolute Valerio, if ere sorrow  
Lay siege to me, I'll wish thee my companion.  Val. 
I am your humble creature, and shall be honoured  
In your commands.  Enter Ascanio. As. 
My Lord, the Duke  
Asked for you.  Ascanio whispers with Valerio, and Silvio. Ardelia. Leo. 
I'll attend. Whither in haste?  Val. 
We are commanded to attend  Sil. 
It is his pleasure, we should wait upon her  
To his presence.  Leo. 
Ardelia,  
It will become you, and but that his highness  
Exacts my person, I should be a part  Exeunt. 
Of her attendance, but not serve her with  
Half the devotion, I would pay Euphemia  
The too much injured Duchess, now a stranger  
To the Duke's bosom, while another sits,  
And rules his heart, but this prepares my happiness,  
My hopes grow from her misery, which may  
Incline Euphemia to pity me.  
I must use art.  Enter Euphemia, and Macrina. La. 
Good Madam have more comfort.  Leo. 
Is not that she? her habit like her Fortune  
Most black, and ominous, here's a change of State,  
No noise of waiters, and officious troops,  
Of Courtiers futter here, where are the train  
Of Ladies, with more blossom than the Spring,  
Ambitious to present their duties to her,  
Where be those Jewels, whose proud blaze did use  
To vie with sunbeams, and strike gazers blind?  
All gone behind a Cloud? how she observes  
The Structures, which more soft than Dionisio  
seem to incline their marble heads, and sweat  
In the compassion of her injury,  
My heart is labouring for breath, and yet  
I dare not speak to her, the Duke has spies  
Upon her; and his anger carries ruin.  Enter Courtiers, who pass by neglectfully. Eup. 
Sure I should know this place.  La. 
'tis the Court Madam.  Eup. 
And those were Courtiers that passed by?  La. 
They were.  Eup. 
Some of them served me once, but now the Duke  
Has discharged all, why dost not thou forsake me.  La. 
I served you Madam, for yourself, and cannot  
Think on you with less reverence, for your change:  
Of Fortune.  Eup. 
Is not that Leontio?  La. 
It is Madam.  Eup. 
Does he decline me too? though I am miserable,  
My grief would not infect him, but he must  
Compose himself to please, the Duke, whose creature  
He has been always.  Leo. 
I will speak to her,  
Though death in the Duke's eye threatens to kill me,  
Great Mistress.  Eup. 
You do not well Leontio to insult  
Upon my misery, Dionisio's frown  
May make your field as barren.  Leo. 
By all virtue,  
And by yourself the Mistress, I have not  
One thought so irreligious in my soul  
I weep for your misfortune, and shall Study  
All humble ways to serve you.  Eup. 
You have been noble.  Leo. 
Your titles are all sacred still with me,  
The Duke's neglect cannot unprince you here;  
Oh let not hasty sorrow boast a triumph  
Over so great a mind, let not that beauty  
wither with apprehension of your wrong  
That may be soon repented, and the Storm  
That cowardly would shake that comeliest building  
Make for your happiness, some lament your fate.  Enter Strozzi. 
Whose looks speak mirth, be confident, the Duke  
Will chide the unlawful flame, that like rude  
And wandering meteor, led him from your virtues  
With so much danger to embrace Ardelia.  Str. 
The Duke shall know your compliments.  Exit. Eup. 
no more, lest for your charity to me,  
For I must call it so, you ruin not  
Your favour with the Duke, farewell Leontio  
Yet I would pray one favour from you.  Leo. 
Me?  
My life's your servant.  Eup. 
If you hear the Duke  
Speak of me, as I fear he never will  
But in displeasure, tell him I will think it  
No cruelty to take this poor life from me,  
Rather than let me draw a wretched breath  
With general scorn, let him command me dead,  
And I forgive him, otherwise farewell.  Eexeunt. Leo. 
That close showed something, like a will to be,  
Revenged her breast heaved up, and fell again,  
While both her eyes shot a contention upward,  
As they would seem to put just Heaven in mind  
How much she suffers.  Enter Pallante. 
If grief thus become her,  
What magic will not love put on? I must  
Stifle my passion. Pallante, welcome,  
You are well met in Court;  
Where dost thou live Pallante?  Pall. 
Everywhere,  
Yet nowhere to any purpose, we are out  
Of use, and like our Engines are laid by  
To gather dust, the Court I ha' not skill in,  
I want the trick of flattery, my Lord,  
I cannot bow to Scarlet, and Goldlace,  
Embroidery is not an Idol for my worship,  
Give me the wars again.  Leo. 
But yet remember we fight for peace,  
The end of war.  Pall. 
I never did, my Lord.  Leo. 
What?  Pall. 
Fight for peace, I fought for pay, and honour,  
Peace will undo us.  Leo. 
'tis the corruption of our peace, that men  
Glorious in Spirit, and desert, are not  
Encouraged.  Pall. 
The faults somewhere.  Leo. 
I presume  
Thou art not of so tyrannous a nature,  
But thou couldst be content to wear rich clothes,  
Feed high, and want no fortune without venturing  
To buy them at the price of blood.  Pall. 
I could.  Leo. 
And I'll engage thou shalt, be this the Prologue.  Pall. 
Not I, keep, keep your money.  Leo. 
You do not scorn my bounty.  Pall. 
You may guess  
That fortune has not doted much upon me,  
And yet I must refuse it.  Leo. 
Your reason pray?  Pall. 
Why ten to one I shall spend it.  Leo. 
So 'tis meant.  Pall. 
'Twill make me gay a while, but I shall pawn  
My Robes, and put on these again,  Leo. 
Thou shalt not  
While I have Fortune to preserve thee otherwise,  Pall. 
I say out of my love to you I must not,  
I never yet took money upon charity,  
I earned it in the War, and I'll deserve't  
In peace, of you I cannot, 'tis my misery  
To be unserviceable.  Leo. 
Is that your Scruple?  
But that I know thy humour, I should think  
This cunning, but you shall not, Sir, despair,  
I shall find ways to have mentioned  
In your accounts for merits, doubt not, I  
Will give you occasion to deserve more.  Pall. 
On those conditions I'll take more, and think the better  
Of my own life, honoured by your employments.  Leo. 
The Duke.  Enter Duke, Strozzi, Ascanio. Du. 
Ha? Leontio.  Str. 
If I have any brains, he showed a passion  
Did not become him to your Duchess Sr.  Du. 
Presumes he on his blood, above our favour?  
Dares he but in a thought control our pleasure,  
No more, we'll take no knowledge, oh my Lord  
You absent yourself too much, though we confess  
Our State must owe much to your care, we would not  
Your offices should waste you with employments  
Preserve your health I pray—  Leo. 
I never did  
Enjoy it more than when I studied service,  
And duties to your grace.  Du. 
Music, the minutes  
Are sad i'th' absence of Ardelia,  
And move too slow, quicken their pace with lutes,  
And voices.  A Song. Du. 
No more; we will be Music of ourselves,  
And spare your Arts, thought of Ardelia,  
Should strike a harmony through every heart,  
What brow looks sad, when we command delight?  
We shall account that man a Traitor to us,  
That wears one sullen Cloud upon his face,  
I'll read his soul in't, and by our bright Mistress,  
Than which the World contains no richer beauty,  
Punish his daring sin.  Leo. 
He will deserve it  
Great Sir, that shall offend with the least sadness,  
Or were it so possessed, yet your command  
That stretches to the soul, would make it smile,  
And force a bravery, severe old age  
Shall lay aside his sullen gravity,  
And revel like a youth, the froward Matrons  
For this day, shall repent their years, and coldness  
Of blood, and wish again their tempting beauties  
To dance like wanton Lovers.  Du. 
My Leontio,  
In this then thou dost present our bosom to thee,  
What's he?  Leo. 
A Gentleman that has deserved  
For service in your late wars, Sir, a Captain.  Du. 
He may turn Courtier now, we have no use  
Of noise, we can march here without a Drum,  
I hope we are not in arrears to him,  
He haunts us for no pay?  Leo. 
Your bounty beside that, hath won their hearts.  Du. 
Why has he no better clothes? this is a day  
Of Triumph.  Pall. 
I beseech your highness' pardon,  
I ha' drunk your health in better clothes, despise  
My Christian Buff; this is the fruits of peace,  
I'll wait on you again.  Exit. Du. 
where's my Ardelia?  
How at the name my spirits leap within me,  
And the amorous winds do catch it from my lips  
To sweeten the Air— heaven at the sound  
Looks clear, and lovely, and the earth put's on  
A spring to welcome it, speak Leontio  
Strozzi, Gentlemen, but she appears.  Enter Ardelia, Valerio, Silvio. 
For whom the World shall wear eternal shiue,  
Brightest Ardelia, Queen of love, and me,  Ar. 
The only honour, my ambition climbs too,  
Is to be held your highness' humblest handmaid.  Du. 
Call me thy servant, what  
New charms her looks does throw upon my soul.  Sil. 
How the Duke gazes?  Du. 
There is some strange divinity within her,  
Is there not Valerio?  Val. 
I am not read so far yet as divinity,  
Mine is but humane learning.  Du. 
Speak again,  
And at thy lips the quires shall hang to learn  
New tunes, and the dull spheres but coldly imitate,  
I am transformed with my excess of rapture,  
Frown, frown Ardelia I shall forget  
I am mortal else, and when thou hast thrown down  
Thy servant, with one smile exalt again  
His heart to heaven, and with a kiss breath in me  
Another soul fit for thy love, but all  
My language is too could, and we waste time,  
Lead on, there's something of more ceremony  
Expects our presence, Italy is barren  
Of what we wish to entertain Ardelia.  Leo. 
May all the pleasures thought can reach attend you.  Exeunt. 
Finis Actus primi.   

Actus Secundus.  Enter Bentivolio, Horatio. Hor. 
BE counselled yet without being too ambitious  
To buy a dear repentance.  Ben. 
Now we are.  
Arrived at Court, shame to our resolution,  
I prithee don't tempt me to such cowardice,  
Horatio I must see her, she'll not blast us,  
She was lovely when our eyes saluted last,  
And at my farewell many innocent tears  
Witnessed her sorrow, clear as April weeps  
Into the bosom of the Spring, not see  
Ardelia?  Hor. 
You have travelled since, and she  
Wanting no beauty, was not over willing  
To languish in your absence, how I pity thee,  
But that I would not too much vex your folly,  
Dost think there's faith in any woman's eyes,  
She wept at parting, a strong obligation  
When they can thread their tears, and make a chain  
Of water, let me wear one o' their bracelets;  
I will convince thy madness in six words,  
Admit she said she loved you, and to your thinking  
Vowed it, for you say you were contracted  
All this is nothing.  Ben. 
No.  Hor. 
Not this; although  
You had been married, and i'th' Sheets together,  
And chaffered earnest for a boy, 'tis nothing  
It binds not.  Ben. 
How?  Hor. 
Not with a thousand witnesses.  Ben. 
How not bind her?  Hor. 
Nor any woman living, that's possessed  
With a wandering spirit, clap her in a dungeon,  
Pile three Castles on her, yet she shall  
Break prison when she has but the least mind to't;  
She le work through a steel-mine, to meet a friend  
That she likes better, with more ease throw up  
A quarry of Marble, than a Mole shall dust,  
They work with spirits, man, and can do wonders,  
Especially a handsome woman, from whose false  
And sly temptations, all my wits defend me.  
There were some dealing with an Elvish female,  
That had but a course face, or say but half a one,  
enigmatic eyes, with no more sight than could  
Distinguish well, man from a horse, or bear,  
To keep her from mistake in procreation,  
A nose of many fashions, and as many  
Waterworks in 'em, lips of honest hide,  
And made to last, teeth of a Moors complexion,  
A chin, without all controversy, good  
To go a fishing with, a witch's beard on't,  
With twenty other commendations, such a thing  
Were no mischief, and a man might trust  
Her with no scruple in his Conscience.  Ben. 
This is plain madness.  Hor. 
You may call it so,  
But I'll be bound to travel further with  
This Nightmare, than the finest flesh and blood  
You court, and call your mistress, why the Devil  
With all his art, and malice will ne'er cuckold me,  
And I should leave her in hell, and go a journey,  
I should be sure at my return to find her  
Safe, and untouched, sound of her wind, and limbs;  
A fair, and handsome woman would not scape so:  
You have my opinion now, and 'twere less evil  
To practise it, you mind not my instructions.  Ben. 
Not I.  Hor. 
These Lectures have L read toth' City  
With the same success, that Gentlemen might live honest,  
And men have luck to father their own children,  
But 'twill not be, you are resolved to try it?  Ben. 
Am I engaged thus far to fall back now?  Hor. 
Remember where you are yet.  Ben. 
I am i'th' Court.  Hor. 
Where you expect to compliment with the Dukes—  Ben. 
What?  Hor. 
What do you think? the Duke's married,  
They say although he love Ardelia,  
And without question, in these parts may want  
No intelligence of your purpose, and your person,  
And there's no doubt, but if he find you quail-catching,  
He has power enough to cool your blood, and hers,  
Should she remember what has passed between you,  
In that respect be cautioned, do not work  
A double ruin, to soothe one vain humour;  
Eyes will beget an appetite of more nearness,  
And how that may succeed, 'tis better fear, than prove.  Ben. 
I prithee fright me not with shadows.  Hor. 
You are then for her substance— I'll not leave you.  Ben. 
I'll see her did the Duke proclaim it death.  Hor. 
I Had rather see the Cow, with her five legs,  
And all the Monsters in the market, then  
Be troubled with the spectacle, but on,  
Stay, yet will you but see her? will her face content you,  
afar off, without multiplying twinkles,  
Ridiculous sighs, or crossed arms pinioned thus,  
As the knight-templar's legs are, wholly buried,  
Like Tailors, no dejected looks, as you'd  
Your father alive again to send you out  
To sea, with pension to maintain you in biscuit,  
Poor John, and half a livery, which should be  
Part of your governor, to read moral virtue  
And lenten Lectures to you, or if she frown  
As much as say my friend, I am not for you,  
The Duke's the better Gentleman, and shall pay for't  
Will you return then with a handsome patience,  
And wisely love where no man else will rival you,  
A Witch or some old woman,  Ben. 
I prithee leave  
Thy frenzy, thou shalt witness I'll be temperate.  Enter Valerio. 
Who's this? Signior Valerio.  Val. 
Bentivolio, welcome to  
Pavie, and the Court.  Ben. 
My friend, Sir.  Val. 
You both divide me.  Ben. 
Then I am no stranger,  
In confidence of that friendship we both sealed  
In Travel.  Val. 
What affairs brought you to Pavie?  Ben. 
Being at large, I had curiosity  
To observe what might improve my knowledge here  
With some taste of your Court.  Val. 
And I am happy  
I have some power to serve your wish, nor could you  
Arrive to see it shine with more delight,  
It is composed of revels, now all air,  
Let me present you to the Duke.  Ben. 
I shall be honoured to kiss his hand.  Val. 
Shalt see his Mistress,  
The fair Ardelia, the Duke's no saint,  
I may tell thee.  Hor. 
Pray Sir, with your favour,  
Cannot the Court furnish a Gentleman,  
And need be, with an ugly face or two,  
Such as would turn your stomach, would content  
My fancy best.  Val. 
What means your friend?  Ben. 
A humour he plays withal.  Ual. 
He would not play with such a woman, would he?  Hor. 
Yes, and if the place be not  
Too barren to afford me one ill-favoured  
Enough.  Val. 
ne'er fear it, they are common here  
As Crows, and something of a hue by moonshine  
Promise to keep your wits, and I'll present you.  Hor. 
I have a lease Sir, of my brains, and dare  
encounter with an army out of Lapland.  Exeunt. Music, and Song in Dialogue. Enter the Duke, Ardelia, Fiametta, Leontio, Strozzi, Ascanio, Silvio, Ladies. Duk. 
How likes Ardelia this?  Ard. 
If it affect  
Your highness ear, duty hath so composed  
My will to obedience, I must praise the music,  
And wish no other object to that sense,  
Unless you please to express more harmony  
By some commands from your own voice, that will  
Challenge my more religious attention.  Du. 
What charm is in her language? cease all other  
(But discord to her accents) what a sweet,  
And winning soul she has, is it not pity  
She should be less than Duchess, far above  
Euphemia in beauty, and rare softness  
Of nature, I could wonder, gaze for ever;  
But I expose my passion too much  
To censure, yet who dares dispute our will?  
Leontio look upon Ardelia,  
And tell me.  Leo. 
What Sir?  Duk. 
Canst see nothing there?  Leo. 
I see a spacious field of beauty Sir.  Duk. 
'tis poor, and short of her perfection,  
Bear her this other Jewel, I will have her  
Shine like a volume of bright constellations,  
Till all the world turn her Idolater:  
When did Euphemia look thus?  Leo. 
Never sir.  Duk. 
Be Judge thyself Leontio, if my Duchess  
Loved me, could she deny her Dionisio  
This happiness, but she has a stubborn soul.  
She has, and shall repent it.  Leo. 
Sir, remember  
She is a princess.  Du. 
You were best remember her,  
Perhaps she'll take it kindly.  Leo. 
Sir, I hope  
You have more assurance of my faith to you  
Then to interpret—  Du. 
Nothing, come, all's well,  
Name her no more, howe'er she has displeased  
Us, you can violate no duty still  
To love her.  Leo. 
ay sir?  Du. 
This infects delight,  
Let's dance my sweet Ardelia.  Leo. 
The Duke's jealous  
Or i'm betrayed.  Du. 
Leontio, Silvio, Strozzi,  
The Ladies blush for you, they have breathed too much.  While the Dance is Enter Valerio, Bentivolio, Horatio. Val. 
Sir, here are gentlemen desire the grace  
To kiss your highness' hand.  Du. 
Ardelia supply our Duchess absence,  Val. 
It is the Duke's desire by his example, you extend your  
Fair hand to a pair of strangers, ambitions of the  
Honour.  Ard. 
Bentivolio?  
'tis he, how my heart trembles as my frame  
Would fall to pieces, do you know that gentleman?  Va. 
Yes, Madam.  Ar. 
Let him attend me in my lodgings  
It will be worth your friendship to conduct him.  Val. 
I shall.  Du. 
Your countenance changes, I observed  
Your eyes upon that Stranger.  Ar. 
He reviews  
The memory of a brother, I loved dearly,  
That died at Sea: I ne'er saw two so like.  Du. 
For representing one so near Ardelia,  
Receive another welcome, and what favours  
Your thoughts can study from our Court, possess 'em.  Ben. 
You oblige my humblest services— how now, how dost like this?  Ho. 
Why scurvily, you flatter  
yourself into destruction, I see  
The Arrow will pierce thy heart, decline it yet.  Ben. 
Still franticly opposing.  Ho. 
I ha' done  
Be mad, I'll give my brain to somewhat else,  
Sir, I'd see a phisnomy, though it look  
As big as the four winds, I ha' courtship for it,  
And woe not he blown off with an Hurricano,  
Yet trust me I'll be honest.  Va. 
I believe you.  Ho. 
Only to please my eye.  Va. 
What think you of  
That devil's landscape, you observed not her,  
Notwithstanding her complexion, she is a Lady  
Useful at Court, to set of other faces,  
Especially the Duke's Mistress, whom for that,  
And some thing else his grace has recommended  
To be her companion, will she serve turn?  
Did you ever see a more excellent walleye  Ho. 
I marry, Sir.  Va. 
Nay let me prepare you,  
Madam d'ee observe that Gentleman,  
The hearing Stranger, he has business to you,  
And you will bid it welcome.  Fi. 
Does he know me?  Va. 
He enquired for you  
By all descriptions— and I guess he may  
Be worth your favour.  Fia. 
Mine?  Val 
If ever man  
Were an idolater, he is yours, I'll bring him  
To your lodgings Madam, if you please.  Fia. 
You'll honour me.  Du. 
Again to our revels, there's no life without being active,  Val. 
Not now? you shall have opportunity,  
And I have commission to inform you something,  
Away here's like to be a Storm.  Enter Euphemia. Ben. 
What's she?  Va. 
Euphemia.  Str. 
Your Duchess, Sir.  Du. 
How dares she interrupt us?  Leo. 
A guard about my heart, I am undone else.  
Each look, and motion in her grief present  
Such a commanding sweetness, if I observe  
With the same eyes I shall betray myself.  Eup. 
I come not Sir, with rudeness of my language,  
Or person to offend your mirth, although  
the nature of my sorrow is so wild  
It may infect weak minds, and such as have not  
Some proof in their own bosoms, but to make  
One, and my last suit, which when you have heard  
It may appear so reasonable, and proportioned  
To what your thoughts allow me, that you will  
Find easily a consent to make it fortunate,  
And me in the prevailing.  Ardelia offers to depart. Du. 
Do not move.  
Ardelia, I am full protection here.  Eup. 
there's something sir in my request to make her happy too,  Ard. 
I dare not hear the Duchess,  
Her looks wound me.  Du. 
Speak your promising wishes.  Eup. 
Although I know not for what guilt in me  
Of more than my obedience, and some less  
Beauty then dwells upon Ardelia's cheek,  
You have exiled me from your love, and bosom,  
And worse than one condemned by force of laws,  
For sin against your bed have sentenced me  
To wander with disgrace, carved in my brow  
The Fable of a Duchess, and your anger;  
My desires are you would have so much charity  
Though you have made me an outlaw by your doom,  
Not to compel me after all my shames  
To be a murderer.  Du. 
Treason, our Guard.  Eup. 
You shall not trouble Sir your fears I bring  
the least black thought against your person, heaven  
Avert so foul a sin, the danger all  
Doth threaten me, and my life, which I thus  
Most humbly beg may not be forced through blood  
By my own hands urged by your heavy wrongs  
To such a desperate mutiny, which you may  
Prevent by your revenge of Law upon me.  
To which, and your displeasure I would yield  
My life your welcome sacrifice, I'll praise  
Your mercy for my death, and bless the stroke  
divides my sad soul from me.  Du. 
This your project?  Leo. 
Did you hear the Duchess suit?  Ard. 
Noah, but I'll beg  
It may be granted, do not sir deny  
Your Duchess her desires so just, and reasonable;  Leo. 
How's this? she'll pray to be rid on her,  
Audacious woman  Eup. 
Let me rise with horror.  Du. 
Ardelia knows not what Euphemia asked.  Leo. 
She'll appear cunning.  Ard. 
I am confident  
She hath propounded nothing ill becoming.  Leo. 
Nothing, a very trifle, wearied with  
Her injuries she only begs the Duke  
Would be so kind to order with as much  
Conveniency as he please, her head to be  
Chopped of, that all, and you were charitable  
To join so modestly in the advancement  
Of her desires.  Ard. 
Defend it heaven,  
Madam your pardon, I imagined not  
You aimed such cruelty upon yourself.  Eup. 
Proud, and dissembling woman, at such impudence  
I take my spirit to me, and no more  
Will put my breath to the expense of prayer  
To be short-lived, I will desire to live  
To see heaven drop down justice, with such loud,  
And public noise of my revenge on thee,  
And thy adulterate arts, as the world naming  
But once Ardelia, shall be palsy-struck.  
I feel a new, and fiery soul within me,  
Apt to disperse my rage, which fear and my  
Religion would ha' stifled. Oh my fate!  Du. 
She raves, to prison with her, we are not safe  
While she enjoys the freedom of our air:  
Stay (my good Genius) she carries yet  
The title of our Duchess; 'tis our pleasure  
Leontio, she be your prisoner,  
But see her narrowly confined, till we  
Determine what shall follow, in what we  
Limit, you not make your own reason guide,  
But on your life secure her.  Leo. 
Your commands  
In all things I obey, most blessed occasion!  Du. 
Fool, thou dost entertain what must undo thee,  
And make you both ripe for eternal absence;  
Hug Juno in the clouds, and court her smiles,  
Though she consent not, 'tis enough you'll stand  
Suspected, and exposed to equal danger.  
You sha'not lose your air to plead for death,  
Thus we'll secure Ardelia.  Eup. 
I hear,  
And with all cheerfulness resign my will  
To imprisonment, or death; forgive the wildness,  
And fury of my language, I repent  
My wish upon Ardelia, may she live  
To do so too, and you to be possessed  
Of all joys, Earth and Heaven can bless your heart with  
May danger never in a dream affright you,  
And if you think I live too long, 'tis possible,  
Before you send death to conclude my sufferings,  
Some thoughts of you may wither my poor heart,  
And make your path smooth, to what most you joy in  
Be not a tyrant when i'm dead, upon  
My fame, although you wish me not alive,  
Yet say I was Euphemia, let that stick  
Upon my Tomb, if you will grace my shade  
With so much cost, in that name is supplied  
Enough to tell the world for whom I died.  Du. 
We hear too much, away with her.  Exeunt. 
Finis Actus Secundi.   

Actus Tertius.  Enter Bentivolio, Valerio, Horatio. Ben. 
I Have given a treasure to your bosom Sir.  Val. 
You sha'not friend repent it, and this act  
Of so much confidence, new binds my faith to you;  
Contracted to Ardelia? I may chance make use of this.  
Your pilgrimage ends here—  Exit Ualerio Hor. 
Do you know  
What you have done?  Ben. 
I have told him what  
Concerned Ardelia, and myself; thou wod'st  
Suspect, and chide my credulous nature, come,  
I'll trust him with my life.  Hor. 
That's done already,  
He has a secret, much good do him wilt,  
Should ha' burnt a passage through my heart, and left  
It ashes, ere they'd wandered from me thus,  
And if you never did before, pray now  
He may be honest to you, 'tis too late  
To find compunction for it, pray, and heartily  
He may be dumb.  Enter Valerio and Ardelia. Val. 
Signior Bentivolio?  Exit Ardelia, and Bentivolio. 
So, so, that's over, now I'll conduct you  
To your precious Saint, unless your blood turn  
Coward.  Ho. 
Ob, never fear it, Sir.  Val. 
But would you did  
First tell me and discharge me of some wonder,  
You have an humour of the newest fashion  
I ere yet saw, and how the Court may follow't  
I know not, how long have you been possessed Sir?  Ho. 
Possessed? what Devil do you mean?  Val. 
With these ill-favoured, deformed women, y'are bewitched sure?  Ho. 
Thou dost not know the fiends I have conversed with.  Ual. 
I have no ambition to be acquainted  
With any Goblins, further than their knowledge  
Might make me understand the ground of your  
Enchantment.  Ho. 
Oh a world, Legions, Legions.  Val. 
Of what?  Ho. 
Of handsome women.  Val. 
They the cause of this?  Ho. 
Their false, and perjured natures, I ne'er met with  
One handsome Face that made a conscience of me.  Val. 
Andye think to find  
More Faith in those that look all over like Devils?  Ho. 
'tis possible they may have souls, who knows?  
howe'er in my revenge, I'll love, and dote on 'em,  
And justify thy are the sex's glory.  Val. 
I have enough.  Enter Ardelia, and Bentivolio. 
They are returned, this way Sir, to your Fairy.  Exeunt. Ar. 
My dearest Bentivolio, why dost stand  
At so much gaze, and distance, as thou wod'st  
Teach love unkindness, can these out ward forms  
Disguise me from thy knowledge, let's salute,  
My lips retain their softness, and unless  
Thy love be changed, our breath may meet, and we  
Convey the hearty meaning of our souls,  
As we once did.  Ben. 
Y'are very brave Ardelia,  Ar. 
But have no pride without you, these are no  
Glories compared to what I wear within,  
To see thee safe, whom my fears gave up lost,  
And after so much absence, do I live  
To embrace my Bentivolio?  Ben. 
You would have me  
Believe I am welcome hither, fair Ardelia,  
Pardon, I know not yet what other name  
To call you by, and if I wrong your titles,  
Be gentle to my ignorance; this hand  
You gave me once, when no ambition frighted  
The troth we vowed, our chaste simplicity  
Durst kiss without a shame, or fear to be  
Divorced by greatness, tell me, sweet Ardelia,  
When I did court thy Virgin faith, and paid  
An innocent tribute to thy most chaste lip,  
When we had spent the day with our discourse,  
And night came rudely in to part us, what  
Were then thy usual dreams? how many visions  
Were let into thy sleep, thou shouldst be great,  
Torn from my bosom, to enrich thyself,  
And a Duke's arms? and that a time should come,  
When I, the promisd Master of this wealth,  
Should thus present myself a beggar to thee,  
And count thy smiles a charity?  Ard. 
What means  
My Bentivolio by this passionate language?  Ben. 
I do confess I was compelled to be  
An exile from thee, in obedience to  
My father, who would trust me to the Seas,  
Or any land, ere leave me to this shipwreck,  
For so his anger sinned against thy beauty,  
Whilst the Idol Gold graced not thy fairer Temple,  
Yet when we plighted hearts, Ardelia,  
I tied with mine an everlasting contract,  
And did expect at my return to have found  
Thine spotless.  Ard. 
'tis the same.  Ben. 
The same to me?  
What makes you here then? do not, do not flatter  
Thy guilt so much. Is not this Pavia's Court?  
Ardelia's Court indeed, for she rules here,  
The Lady Paramount whilst the Duke himself  
Bows like a subject!  Ar. 
Be not, Sir too credulous,  
And with too apprehensive thoughts do injury  
To that which you should cherish, the Duke is—  Ben. 
You'll say none of your subject,  
He is a prince,  
Prince of your Province, writs Ardelia his,  
'tis ravished all from me, and I am become  
A stranger to my own, nay stand, and see  
My treasure rifled, all my wealth ta'en from me,  
And dare not question the injurious power  
That revels in my glory, but canst think  
I will be cold for ever, that all seeds  
Of man lie dead within me, and my soul  
Sunk in my phlegm, will never rise to form  
Some just revenge? think there are then no furies.  Ard. 
You come to threaten not to love, and having  
Already by long absence made a fault,  
To quit yourself would lay a stain on me,  
'tis not well done.  Enter a Servant. Ser. 
The Duke.  Exit. Ben. 
The Duke?  Ard. 
'tis possible  
He may not fear your anger.  Ben. 
I'll squat then  
Behind this Hedge, this Garden hath quiet shades,  
I hope you'll not betray me.  Ard. 
This the form  
Of your revenge,  Enter Duke. Du. 
My fair Ardelia  
Excuse me if I press upon thy private  
Walks, love gives a boldness to mean spirits,  
But in a PRINCE's breast: 'tis much more active,  
And fears no imputation, what doth fright  
Thy countenance? I hope Ardelia  
My presence brings no horror.  Ard. 
Sir, much comfort,  
Whether it were my fancy or a truth  
I know not.  Du. 
What's the matter?  Ard. 
You have no satires  
Within this ground, do any haunt this Garden?  Du. 
satyrs?  Ard. 
As I have read 'em charactered,  
So one appeared, or I imagined so,  
And as you entered hid himself, they are  
Half men——  Du. 
Half beasts.  Ard. 
With goat's horns in their forehead,  
The thought on't troubles me.  Du. 
The effect only of melancholy thoughts,  
No such things are  
In nature, yet I'll search, and— strange apprehension.  Ar. 
'Twas more than shape, sure it did talk to me,  
And threaten me for your sake.  Du. 
How? for mine?  
I'll have the Trees, and Arbours all torn up,  
Devils lurk here? the earth shall not secure 'em,  Ard. 
He said he loved me, and accused my heart  
Of perjury, as we had been contracted.  Du. 
More strange! my guard!  Ard. 
Stay sir, before you go  
Let me beseech your justice in defence  
Of my much injured honour, as you are  
A Prince, I do beseech you speak all truth,  
For let him be the Devil, I'll not have  
My innocence abused, I know not from  
What fame, or fond opinion voiced of me,  
By some that had more thought to serve your will  
Then virtue, I was made believe you loved me,  
Which though my force resisted by some practises,  
You gained my person hither, and in Court  
Command my stay.  Du. 
Entreat, my best Ardelia.  Ar. 
You may Sir, smooth your cause, but I can fetch  
A witness from my bosom to convince  
The truth I urge, yet let me not be lost  
To gratitude, my soul bids me acknowledge  
Never was subject to a Prince more bound  
For free, and beauteous graces, than Ardelia  
To your highness, and with many lives to waste  
In service for them, I were still in debt to you.  Du. 
'tis in thy power to satisfy for all,  
And leave me ten times more obliged to thee.  Ar. 
Let me for this time beg on answer from you,  
Although I am not ignorant, what price  
Your wild blood would exact, speak in the ear  
Of silent heaven, have you obtained so much  
As one stoop to your wanton avarice,  
One bend to please your inflamed appetite.  Duke 
Not any yet, the more unkind Ardelia.  Ar. 
Speak clearly by the honour of a Prince.  Du. 
By better hopes I swear, and by thyself.  Ar. 
You do me Sir, but Justice, I will study  
To pay my humblest duty, and I'll tell  
When next I see the Satire——  Du. 
To discharge those fears, I'll presently destroy,  
This Garden, and not leave shelter,  
For a Bird.  Ar 
Your pardon,  
To what would my imagination lead me?  
I see all was but melancholy, here was nothing.  Du. 
Fruits of a troubled fancy, come be pleasant,  
And tell me when you will redeem your cruelty,  
It may incline you somewhat to remember  
By what soft ways I have pursued your love,  
How nobly I would serve you.  Ar. 
Love, your grace  
Knows, never was compelled.  Du. 
But love should find  
Compassion to the wound it makes, I bleed,  
And court thy gentle pity to my sufferings,  
All Princes are not of so calm a temper,  
Think of it my Ardelia, and reward  
The modest expectations of a heart,  
That in thy absence withers, but I'll have thee  
To chide thy cruel thoughts, and till our lips  
Salute again, flatter myself with hope  
Thy nature will be wise, and kind to love,  
Where 'tis so fairly courted.  Exit. Ben. 
Is he gone?  
With what acknowledgement of my fault Ardelia  
Shall I beseech thy pardon, I am lost  
In wonder of thy innocence; 'twere just  
I should suspect the truth of my own bosom,  
Thou hast too rich a goodness.  Ar. 
Now you flatter,  
I knew no way o'th' sudden to convince you,  
But by the Duke's confession, I am yet  
Preserved my Bentivolio, but with what  
Danger of being lost to thee, and honour  
I shall remain here, may concern our Jealousy,  Ben. 
Together with the knowledge of thy virtue  
Like balsam poured into my ear, I took  
A poison from the Duke, I find he loves thee  
With a black purpose, and within his language  
Was something worth our fear indeed, it will  
Require our study, and much art, Ardelia.  Ar. 
Let's retire into my chamber, and mature  
Some course for both our safeties.  Ben. 
I attend you.  Exeunt. Enter Valerio, Horatio, Fiametta. Val. 
I won't stay three minutes, I'll but step aside for distillation. I leave you the pleasure of your eyes.  Exit Ho. 
Well, go thy ways.  Fia. 
Do you not mock me Sir, shall I believe  
A Gentleman of your neat, and elegant making,  
Can stoop to such a creature as I am.  Ho. 
Will you have me swear?  Fia. 
By no means.  Ho. 
Then I won't,  
But I will give it thee under my hand,  
Read that.  Fia. 
What's this?  Ho. 
Something to show I hate all handsome women.  Fia. 
Is't a song?  Ho. 
It may be, with a voice, and tune put to't,  
I'll read it.  He reads. Enter Ualerio, with Aurelia, and Macrina veiled. Val. 
L am come again Sir, and choose, rather than  
To afflict you with expectation,  
To bring my company along, you may  
Salute 'em if you please.  Ho. 
They are not welcome.  Val. 
Will you believe me now?  Aur. 
If we may trust our eyes.  Ho. 
Ladies you must excuse me, I affect  
No vulgar beauties, give me a complexion  
Cannot be matched again in twenty kingdoms,  
You have eyes, and nose, and lips, and other parts  
Proportioned.  Aur. 
Sure the Gentleman's distracted.  Ho. 
No, I am recovered, I thank my stars,  
To know, and heartily abhor such faces,  
What come they hither for?ye know 'em Madam?  Fia. 
I had no purpose they should be my guests  
At this time, theyare court Ladies, I confess,  
Signior Valerio this was your plot.  Ual. 
My pure intention, Madam, to do you  
Service, I knew they were not for his palate,  
These will inflame his appetite to you,  
And set you off, mere foils to you do they  
Look as they were ambitious to be  
Compared with you.  Fia. 
Noble sir, although  
I have not beauty like these Ladies.  Ho 
How? you ha' not beauty, take heed do not show  
yourself unthankful to wise nature, do not  
They ha' not wealth enough in all their bodies  
To purchase such a nose.  Mac. 
Ha, ha.  Ho. 
Ha, ha, good Madam Kick shaw,  
That laugh to show how many teeth you have.  Val. 
Be not uncivil Sir.  Ho. 
Why does that Fairy grin then?  
I'll justify there is more worth, and beauty,  
Considered wisely, and as it preserves  
Man in his wits, and sense, than can be read  
I'th' volume of their flattering Generations.  
Good Madam look asquint, a little more,  
So, keep but that cast with your eyes, and tell me  
Whose sight is best, hers that can see at once  
More several ways then there are points i'th' Compass,  
Or theirs that looks but pointblank.  Mac. 
A new way  
To commend the eyes.  Ho. 
You think your forehead pleases.  
Whose top with frizzled, and curled hair beset,  
Appears like a white cliff, with reeds upon't;  
Your nose, which like an Isthmus parts two Seas.  Aur. 
Seas? you mean eyes again.  Ual. 
What of their nose?  Ho. 
Will be in danger, with continual beating  
Of waves, to wash the paint off, and in time  
May fall, and put you to the charge of building  
A silver bridge for praises to pass over.  Mac. 
We'll bar your commendations.  Ho. 
It sha'not need,  
I do not melt my wits to verse upon  
Such subject, here's an instrument to smell with,  
Tough as an elephant's trunk, and will hold water.  Val. 
It has a comely length, and is well studded  
With gems of price, the goldsmith would bid money for't.  Aur. 
Is he not mad?  Ho. 
I can assure you no,  
And by this token I would rather be  
Condemned toth' Galleys, then be once in love  
With either of your phisnomies.  Mac. 
Is't possible?  Ho. 
You may put your whole faith upon't.  Val. 
d'ye believe him?  
Madam.  Aur. 
Methinks this is the prettiest mirth,  
You have a mighty wit, could you be angry  
I love you for't.  Mac. 
His humour takes me infinitely.  Ho. 
It does, and you do love me for't?  Mac. 
Most strangely.  Ho. 
I would you did, and heartily.  Mac. 
What?  Ho. 
Love me.  Mac. 
So well, I could be happy in thy wife.  Ho. 
Could Fate make me so miserable if I did not  
In less than a sennight break thy heart, shouldst  
Cuck old me at my own peril.  Val. 
This Lady has  
A mighty estate.  Ho. 
'tis all the fault she has,  
Would she had none, had she no house, nor clothes,  
Nor means to feed, yet I would sooner marry,  
Observe, this naked savage, then embrace  
The fairest woman of the earth, with power  
To make me Lord of Italy, I should always  
Enjoy my health.  Val. 
Her very face would keep  
Your body soluble.  Ho. 
No fears compel me  
To be a prisoner to my dining-room,  
I might hawk, hunt, and travel to both Indies.  Aur. 
Give any Doctor leave to give her Physic.  Mac. 
Or change of Air.  Val. 
Save much in your own diet,  
Which else would call for Ambergris, and roots,  
And stirring cullises.  Aur. 
You might allow her  
To visit Masks and Plays.  Ual. 
And the bordelloes,  
I think she would be honest.  Ho. 
And that's more  
Than any Christian conscience dare assure  
By oath on your behalf to be short Ladies,  
howe'er you may interpret it my humour,  
Mine's a platonic love, give me the soul,  
I care not what course flesh, and blood enshrine it;  
Preserve your beauties, this will fear no blasting:  
I beg you call me servant.  Aur. 
Did you hear him?  Fia. 
You must acknowledge than I am your Mistress.  Ho. 
I'll wear your Periwig for my Plume, and boast  
More honour in't, than to be minion  
To all the Ladies of the Court, dear Mistress  
If you can love a man, jeer 'em a little.  Fia. 
Fair Ladies will you in, and taste a banquet,  
Be not discountenanced that this Gentleman  
Is merry with your beauties the Spring lasts  
Not all the year, when nature that commands  
Our regiment will say, faces about,  
We may be in fashion, no controlling destiny.  
Passion, who curled your hair? here wanteth powder,  
Who is your Mercer, Madam? I would know  
What your cheek stands you in a week in Taffeta?  
Your face at distance shows like spotted Ermine.  Ho. 
Or like a dish of white-broth strewed with currants.  Fia. 
Right servant, that was a more proper simily,  
Discretion should ha' put more ceruse here,  
Your fucus was ill made, d''ee you not lie  
In a mask all night, Madam.  Va. 
Thou dost in a vizard  
I will be sworn how the rude gipsy triumphs  Ho. 
Enough, they now begin to swell, and sweat,  
Let's leave 'em.  Exeunt. Va. 
What a Hecate was this?  
Will you not be revenged?  Aur. 
Yes, if we knew  
By what convenient stratagem.  Va. 
I have it,  
There is another creature of my acquaintance,  
If you have faith more monstrous than this beldame,  
I will possess her with this gentleman's humour,  
And screw her up to be this witch's rival, what think you of that?  Au. 
Will it not make her mad?  Ma. 
I would go a pilgrimage to see't, 'twill be  
A mirth beyond the Bears.  Au. 
Lose no time then.  Val. 
I'll fit him with a female fury, such  
As the Devil with a pitchfork will not touch.  
Come Madam.  Exit, Enter Leontio, Euphemia. Leo. 
Have comfort Madam,  
I prophesy your sufferings are short-lived.  Eup. 
You mean I shall die shortly.  Leo. 
We shall find  
Less want of all the Stars, the aged World  
May spare their light, while 'tis possessed of yours,  
Which once extinguished, let those golden fires  
Quite burn themselves to ashes, in whose heap  
Day may be lost, and frighted heaven wear black  
Before the general doom, have bolder thoughts,  
And bid us all live in your only safety.  Eup. 
Let not your fancy mock the lost Euphemia?  Leo. 
Let not the apprehension of your sorrow  
Destroy your hope, should the Duke never wake  
His senses steeped in his adulterate lethargy  
You cannot want protection, nor your will  
To be revenged, an arm to punish his  
Contempt of so much beauty.  Eup. 
How my Lord?  Leo. 
What Scythian can behold an outrage done  
Upon these eyes, and not melt his rough nature  
In soft compassion to attend your tears?  Eup. 
My Lord I know not with what words to thank  
Your feeling of my sufferings. I will now  
Believe I am not lost to all the World;  
You are noble, and I must be confident  
These streams flow from your charity.  Loe. 
Do not injure  
The unvalued wealth of your own honour Madam,  
Let poor deserts be worth our charity,  
All sacrifice of grief for you is Justice,  
And duty to the Altar of your merit,  
These drops are pale, and poorly speak my heart,  
Which should dissolve into a purple flood,  
And drown this little Island in your service,  
Name some employment that you may believe  
With what true soul I honour you, oh Madam  
If you could read the Volume of my heart,  
You would find such a story of you there.  Eup. 
Of me?  Leo. 
'tis that keeps me alive, I have no use  
Of memory or reason, but in both  
To exercise devotion to your excellence.  Eup. 
My Lord I understand you not.  Leo. 
You are  
More apprehensive if you would but think so,  
In vain I still suppressed my dark thoughts Madam,  
Which in their mutiny to be revealed  
Have left a heap of ruins worth your pity.  
Oh do not hide that beauty should repair  
What my love to it hath decayed within me,  
For I must say I love, although you kill  
My ambition with a frown; and with one angry  
Lightning, shot from your eye, turn me to ashes.  Eup. 
Good heaven!  Leo 
I know what you will urge against me,  
You sha'not need to arm your passion,  
I will accuse myself, how much I have  
Forgot the distance of one place beneath you,  
And wounded my obedience, that I am  
False to the Duke, the trust imposed upon me,  
And to his favour which have made me shine  
A Star, on whom the other emulous lights  
Look pale, and waste their envies, I confess  
I have not in the stock of my desert  
Enough to call one bounteous smile upon me,  
My whole life is not worth your liberal patience,  
Of one, one minute spent in prayer to serve it,  
Yet after all wished destiny commands  
The poor Leontio to love Euphemia.  Eup. 
What do I hear? consider sir again.  Le. 
I have had contentions with my blood, & forced  
Nature retire, and tremble with the guilt  
Of her proud thoughts, seeking to make escape  
Through some ungentle breach made by our conflict  
But no prevailing against love, and fate,  
Which both decree, me lost without your mercy.  
Oh bid me live, who but in your acceptance  
Shall groan away my breath, and whither till  
I turn my own sad monument.  Fup. 
no more,  
Is't possible new miseries should o'ertake  
Euphemia? Oh my Lord I with what offence  
Have I deserved, after my weight of sorrow,  
Your wounds upon my honour? call again  
Your noble thoughts, and let me not reply  
To your unjust desires, if I must answer them,  
Take my most fixed resolve, ere I consent  
To wrong Diovisio.  Leo. 
Stay.  Eup. 
May: be blasted,  
Though with contempt he look upon me now,  
His blood may clear, and he return to challenge  
Euphemia's pretty, our vow was made  
For life my Lord, and heaven shall sooner fall,  
And mixing with the elements make new Chaos,  
Than all man's violence, and wrath upon me  
Betray one thought to break it.  Leo. 
lose not all  
Your peace at once, vouchsafe I may wait on you.  Eup. 
I know my prison.  Leo. 
Let me hope in this,  Enter Pallante. 
My pardon sealed Pallante?  Pall. 
My good Lord.  Leo. 
Your humble creature Madam, though the Duke  
Confine your person, think upon your prisoner.  Exeunt Euphemia, and Pall. 
Our vow was made for life, 'twas so how swift  
An apprehension love has? but he's Duke;  
Conscience be waking, I shall launch into  
A Sea of blood else, steer my desperate soul  
Diviner goodness.  Enter Pallante again. 
How I start at shadows?  
Love take me to thy charms, and prosper me  
Pallante thou art faithful.  Pall. 
To you my Lord,  
May I be ever else condemned to an Hospital.  Leo. 
And dar'st assist to make me happy.  Pall. 
Yes,  
Though with the hazard of my throat-cutting,  
I hope Sir, you suspect not, name an action  
Though it look ne'er so ghastly, see how much  
I'll tremble at it.  Leo. 
In thy ear.  Pall. 
Once more  
Tough service i'th' beginning, may I not think on't?  Leo. 
Yes.  Pall. 
And ask myself a question ere I answer.  Leo. 
You may.  Pal. 
At first dash kill the Duke, no less  
To begin withal, how now Leontio?  
Was there no other life but this, for saving  
Of mine so often? he has trusted me,  
To whom shall I turn traitor? pray my Lord,  
Are you in earnest? would you have this done?  Leo. 
Ask one, whom tyranny hath chained toth' oar  
For ever forfeited to slavery.  
Whether he would not file off his own bondage,  
And in the blood of him that owns the Galley  
Swim to his freedom.  Pall. 
Do you apprehend it  
So necessary? why I'll do my poor endeavour,  
Nay, 'tis but modest, if't concern your Lordship  
In that degree, I'll do't, you will have some  
Convenient care of me, when 'tis dispatched,  
He scorned my valiant Buff, I thought upon't,  
You are the next in blood, when Dionisio  
Visits the worms.  Leo. 
Thou giv'st me a new life,  
With the same care I'll cherish thee Pallante.  Pall. 
And you do not,  
It is not the first conscience hath been cast  
Away in a great man's service, cheer your heart Sir.  Leo. 
It is not mine Pallante, I have lost  
The use and sway, 'tis to another's grown,  
And I have but the ruins of my own,  Exeunt. 
Finis Actus tertii.   

Actus Quartus.  Enter Horatio, and Fiametta, dancing a Coranto. Ho. 
SO, so, now let's relieve our lungs a while,  
They'll tire, I ne'er met with such a dancing Devil,  
My Destinies take me to your charge, 'twill give  
Us breath, if the Musicians exercise  
Their voice upon the song I made, come sit.  Fia. 
You shall command me servant, now, the song.  Song. Enter Servant. Ser. 
The Lady Aurelia, Madam, and Macrina  
Are come again to visit you.  Fia. 
I am not  
In tune for their discourse, say, I am busy.  Ho. 
By no means, she has a plot upon me.  Fia. 
Then I'll meet 'em.  Ho. 
Do not fear but I am fortified;  
Here were a purchase now, and pension with  
A Mistress, many a proper man's profession,  
Nature meant she should pay for't, and maintain  
A man in fiddlers, fools, and running-horses,  
Here were no fear of any Lords return  
From Tennis, no suspicion at home,  
To force her to a politic pilgrimage  
To try the virtue of some well, no kinsmen,  
With looks to keep the flesh in a we, no children  
To cry, and fright the house their mothers smothered.  Enter Fiametta, Aurelia, Macrina. 
They are here.  Mac. 
I wonder at Valerio's stay.  Aur. 
He won't be long absent, never fear madam.  Ho. 
Ladies, I have no power to bid you welcome,  
Or if I had you would scarce thank me for't,  
You know my mind already.  Enter Scolopendra led by Valerio. Aur. 
See he's come,  
And his Bear with him.  Val. 
Signior,  
You see what care I have to provide for you,  
There is not such another dapple-mare i'th' Dukedom,  
Unless this face content you, you may stay  
Till the Cretan Lady go to Bull again,  
Or Afrique have more choice of Monsters for you.  Ho. 
I am ravished.  Fia. 
How's that servant ha? a rival.  Ho. 
Pray what's her name?  Val. 
Her name is Scolopendra.  Ho. 
Scolopendra? I have read of her, what kin is she  
To the Serpent with a hundred legs?  Val. 
I know not  
But she is Cousin-german to the Salamander  
She was a Cookmaid once, so enured to fire,  
And tough, the flames of hell will hardly scorch her.  Ho. 
An admirable Dragon, can she speak?  
Will she not spit fire if I should salute her?  
I'll venture.  Val. 
He has preservative  
Against the odour of her lungs.  Aur. 
He had need  
Of fortification for his eyes.  Ho. 
Not all  
The spices in Arabia are like  
Her breath.  Val. 
Oh Sir, believe't, right Styx, most pure Avernus.  Sco. 
Sir, I did never see a Gentleman  
Whom I did wish more heartily my husband.  Val. 
To beget Scorpions on her.  Ho. 
Thank thee my precious Scolopendra, but  
I have a kind of fear thou wot be unconstant,  
Shall no man get thee from me; here's a face  
Is worth my jealousy, and who looks upon't,  
But with my eyes will be as mad as I am.  Sco. 
The needles not more constant to the North.  Ho. 
But for all that, the needles wavering  
I would be certain.  Fia 
They conspired to wrong me,  
I fear he's taken with her more deformity,  
Will you forsake me servant?  Ho. 
Humstand off,  
And give my eyes play further yet, your shadows  
Are yet too near— my judgement is confounded,  
Consider one thing with another, they are both  
Such matchless toads, I know not which to choose:  
You have an excellent eye, but there's a pearl  
In hers, no Goldsmith knows the value on't.  Fia. 
Observe the colours in my eye.  Ho. 
Y'are right Madam,  
As many, and more bright than those i'th' rainbow  
Delightful as the parrot's plume, but then  
Her forehead—  Va. 
So like a promontory or—  Ho. 
A Field of honeysuckles, and Poppy-flowers  
Embroidered with daisies, and embossed  
With Yellow-warts which like to Molehills swell,  Va. 
Where many Emmets hunt, and sport themselves  
I'th' Sun, till to her hair a quick set hedge  
I'th' evening they retire.  Ho. 
But 'twixt her eyes  
You may discern a Forest, some higher timber  
Is so well grown, that fashioned on the top  
With scissors and cut pointed like a pyramid,  
The World will take her for an Unicorn.  Aur. 
Good beetle-brows.  Sco. 
Sir, you must be my champion.  Va. 
Examine but this nose.  Sco. 
I have a toter.  Va. 
Which placed with symmetry is like a Fountain  
I'th' middle of her face— distilling rheum,  
And at two spouts doth water all her Garden.  Ho. 
But here's one soft as 'twere composed of wax.  Aur. 
A nose of wax.  Mac. 
It will melt presently.  Ho. 
Not stubborn, but submits to any shape,  
she'll put upon't round, flat when she is pleased  
She can extend, and hang it with such art  
Over her mouth, that when she gapes into  
The Sun, and shows her Teeth, you will imagine  
You see a perfect Dial in her Chaps,  
To tell you what o'clock 'tis, than her Lips.  Va. 
I see not so much red there, as will make  
A Dominical Letter, look upon these Cheeks—  Sco. 
I never painted, Sir.  Va. 
Here's red enough.  Ho. 
Which hideously disposed, and mixed with black,  
The ground of her complexion will mortify  
The most unnatural concupiscence,  
While her cheeks represent in curious Landscape,  
Gomorrah, and her sister Sodom burning.  Va. 
That comparison was home.  Ho. 
But she has a breath,  
A more preservative than mithridate  Va. 
But with one kiss she will preserve you from  
The infection, and with stronger force repel  
The poison of the Air.  Sco. 
I thank you sir,  
I have a strong breath 'indeed  Va. 
When she is moved  
she'll kill you with her phlegm, fourscore point blank,  
The innocent part of it will stain a Marble,  
Let me alone to commend thee.  Fia. 
She carries not destruction like my tongue  
Employed upon thy enemies Horatio.  
The Bells rung backwards, or the Mandrake's cry,  
Wolves howling at the Moon, the screech-owl's dirge,  
The hyen's voice, the groans of parting souls,  
Added to these, what is in nature killing,  
To the ear is not more fatal than my tongue  
When it is bent on mischief, shall I blast  
This Witch to begin withal?  Sco. 
Blast me?  Va. 
Belch backwards,  
And then she's a dead woman.  Sco. 
I'll tear your Snakes.  Fia. 
Mine Hecate.  Va. 
Well said Scolopendra.  Ho. 
They won't skirmish.  Va. 
The Devils will run at tilt.  Au. 
Madam suffer this?  Fia. 
Compare with me?  Va. 
Sa, sa, sa, now sound a point of War.  Enter a servant. Ser. 
Madam the Duke.  Ua. 
His grace has spoilt the duel,  
And we must sound retreat.  All go forth but Fiam. Enter Duke, Silvio, Ascanio, Valerio returns, and falls in with the rest. Du. 
We trusted to your art about Ardelia,  
She makes no haste to our delight.  Fia. 
And please  
Your highness I have had a strange hand with her,  
And I must tell you she was pretty coming  
Until the stranger came.  Du. 
What stranger.  Fia. 
Signior Bentivolio  
Nay I know nothing by 'em, but he has  
A most prevailing tongue upon a gentlewoman.  Du. 
My fears! have I advanced him to supplant me?  Va. 
Bentivolio so gracious with the Duke?  Sil. 
he's courted next Ardelia.  Asc. 
'tis for her  
We may imagine the Duke graces him.  Ua. 
Oh there is no such instrument, believe it  
As a Court-Lady to advance a gentleman,  
Or any masculine business, they are Sticklers  Enter Bentivolio. Du. 
No more. Signior Bentivolio.  Fia. 
Where's Horatio.  Va. 
He was afraid you might kill one another,  
And so he's gone to hang himself.  Fia. 
Better all  
Thy generation were executed, but I must to my charge  Ben. 
Your highnes pours  
Such infinite graces on me I shall want  
Life to express my pious duties, though  
Time should assure me ages.  Du. 
Thank Ardelia,  
Or if you would express your gratitude  
To me.  
employ your wit, and tongue, to gain  
That Lady to our close embrace, you have  
A powerful language, be it your first service  
We do not place this confidence on all.  Ben. 
You mean Ardelia.  Enter Strozzi. Du. 
That fair one, Strozzi.  Ua. 
Well Signior Bentivolio, my quondam  
Friend, and fellow traveller, you owe  
To me a part of your Court exaltation,  
And lest you should forget, as few great men  
Are guilty of good memories, I mean  
To pay myself.  Ben. 
I must not appear troubled.  Va. 
I congratulate your favour with the Duke,  
And think it, not the least of my own happiness.  
That I was a poor instrument—  Ben. 
You honoured me,  
And shall command my services: how sped  
My friend Horatio?  Va. 
He gave me thanks  
I ha' fitted him, you missed excellent sport.  Ben. 
I shall have time to inquire, and thank you for  
The story, you know how to excuse me friend,  
If some engagements force me hence?  Exit. Va. 
Why so.  
He has the trick already, full of business,  
Court agitations, he is yet scarce warm,  
How will he use us when his pride boil over?  
A nod will be a grace, while we stand bare,  
And thank him for the ruffling of his countenance,  
And discomposing his Court face, that's bound  
Upon some State affairs, 'tis very well.  Du. 
Give him access, thou hast showed diligence,  
And trust me to reward it.  Str. 
'tis my duty sir.  Exit Strozzi. Va. 
I have some intelligence will be worth your hearing too.  Du. 
Speak Signior Valerio.  Ua. 
Do you know the gentleman  
Whom you have graced so lately.  Du. 
Signior Bentivolio.  Va. 
That's his name, but do you know his nature?  
Or his business in these parts.  Du. 
Prithee instruct me.  Va. 
You do but warm a Serpent in your bosom,  
In short he loves your Mistress.  Du. 
Ho's?  Va. 
More is contracted,  
And they both practise cunning, I ha' searched  
His heart— your ear—  Sil. 
The Duke seems moved,  Asc. 
Most strangely!  Enter Strozzi, Pallante. Du. 
Expect a while.  Str. 
Humbly your grace's pleasure.  Ua. 
Your highness shall not waste a passion,  
I am of counsel with his thoughts, and will  
Present him ripe to your just anger, trust me  
To manage things a while.  Du. 
Honest Valerio.  
Val. Keep your face smooth, lest he interpret Sir,  
I ha' betrayed him, ere his head be ready  
For the execution, it were necessary  
I should examine her pulse too.  Duk. 
Ardelia's?  Val. 
I'll creep into her soul to bring you all  
The best intelligence.  Duk. 
Precious Valerio!  
Endear me by this service, thou hast my heart.  Val. 
My duty shall preserve it.  Duk. 
Strozzi.  Str. 
This is the gentleman, an't please  
Your highness, can discover most strange things.  Pall. 
To your private ear.  Enter Ardelia. Duk. 
Ardelia? my best health,  
Dear as my soul, I cannot be long absent.  Exit. Val. 
So, how shall I begin now?  
Madam, I have a suit to you.  Ard. 
To me  
Noble Valerio, be confident  
For your own worth, if any power of mine  
Can serve your wish, you shall not find me slow  
To exercise it.  Val. 
Yes, 'tis in your power.  Ard. 
Presume 'tis finished then.  Val. 
In your free power,  
Without the Duke, or other to confirm it.  
Y'are flesh, and blood.  Ard. 
What mean you?  Val. 
No other than I say, nor wish it other,  
A woman is a partner in the frailty  
Of humane nature, and knows how to excuse  
The errors of our blood, and yet you shall  
Have cause to give me thanks, when you consider  
My sense, and your own state, whatye think  
Of me?  Ard. 
For what?  Val. 
For what you please to call it,  
My persons not contemptible, though I be  
No Duke, I can behave myself to please  
Where I am accepted.  Ard. 
What's your purpose Signior?  Val. 
You cannot sure be ignorant of my meaning,  
There's not a girl of seven years old, but will  
Expound it readily, here we suck this language  
And our milk together, I could have used  
More circumstance, have praised you into folly,  
And when I had put out both your eyes with Metaphors,  
Lead you to my desires, and to your pillow:  
But 'twas about, I could have said I loved you,  
Looked sad, and squeezed my eyes, have sighed perhaps,  
And sworn myself quite over breath, that I  
Thought you a Saint, and my heart suffered more  
Than the ten persecutions; hang't, time's precious,  
I take the nearest way, which your discretion  
Will like me for, yet I can love you too,  
And would for thy embrace forget as much  
Goodness, and tempt as many mischiefs as,  
Another man, I hope you understand me.  Ard. 
I am lost, and see a black conspiracy.  Val. 
You shall see me naked. I ha' no conspiracies,  
Carry no private engines more than nature  
Armed me withal, be wise and do not tremble.  Ar. 
How dare you be thus insolent? though my person  
Move you to no regard, you shall find one  
Will teach you manners.  Val. 
You would mean the Duke now.  Ar. 
Has that name no more reverence owing to it?  Ual. 
Yes, I desire no better judge, he'll hear  
Us both, and equally determine all;  
Let's to his highness straight.  Ar. 
What means this rudeness?  Ua. 
You are the Duke's game-royal, or else should  
Be the mistress of his thoughts, whose nod does make  
Us tremble, and in time may be the Duchess,  
Unless your sweet heart Bentivolio  
Snap you before him.  Ar. 
Ha?  Va. 
What fine nets you walk in,  
You are no, Juggler, there has passed no contract  
Betwixt you, and the gallant, no? and while,  
The honest easy Duke, whose spirit raise not,  
Dotes on that face, humbled beneath a subject,  
You have no private meetings, change no kisses,  
Nor hot careers, alas he's but a Stranger  
Whom you respect but for the bare resemblance  
Of a dead brother, there's no flame in you  
But what lights you to charity; I waste breath,  
The Duke is yet that tame thing, you ha' left him,  
His soul in a dream, let not your folly,  
And peevish opposition to receive  
Me to your arms, wake him into a tempest,  
The lightning cannot move more nimbly, than  
His rage to both your deaths, your Ganymede  
Will find the Duke's revenge in his hot blood,  
When his heart weeping the last drop shall have  
No pity wait upon 'em, that durst feed  
The rival to a Prince, though common men  
For want of power, and courage to revenge  
Neglect their shame, wild Princes that know all things,  
Beneath their feet but heaven, obey no fate,  
And but to be revenged will hazard that.  Ar. 
I am undone for ever.  Va. 
Not so Madam,  
You shall lead destiny in cords of Silk,  
And it shall follow tame, and to your pleasure,  
The Duke knows nothing yet, you shall seal up  
My lip to eternal silence of your love,  
If I may but enjoy you, you shall rule  
With the same sway his bosom, and possess  
Your wealth in Bentivolio too, I'm but  
A friend or rather servant, that shall be  
Proud of your smile, and now, and then admitted  
To kiss you when the Curtains drawn, and so forth.  Ar. 
Who placed me on this precipice? sir, hear me,  
'tis vain to ask how you derived the knowledge  
Of what I thought concealed, you are a gentleman.  Va. 
That does appear by my desires.  Ar. 
Have yet some mercy  
On a distressed maid.  Va. 
Maid? thank you for that, I would you were  
Indeed, virginity is wiser than  
Men take it for, and therefore we distinguish,  
There is one virginity in the wedge, or bullion  
As we may say, and this we call lunor maidenhead,  
And there's another in the coin, the gold  
Is not less gold for the impression,  
Your maidenhead is currant in this sense.  
And in this maiden-sense you may give Milk.  Ar. 
By all the goodness that I wish were in you,  
Not Bentivolio, whom you think I most  
Affect, hath more of me then virgin knowledge,  
Nor hath the Duke with all his flatteries  
Wronged my first State, although I must confess  
He every day expects my fall from virtue,  
Do not you more sir, than the devil could,  
Taking advantage of my wretched fortune,  
Betray me to a shame will kill us both,  
In fame, and soul.  Va. 
In fame? who shall reveal it?  
And other may repent.  Ar. 
Sir, can you kill me?  Va. 
No, no I sha'not hurt thee, women are not killed  
That way, I mean to skirmish, come you may  
Save all with little study, and less hazard.  
What is the toy we talk of? either resolve  
Or the Duke knows all, and perhaps more.  Ar. 
Stay sir.  Va. 
Yes, yes Madam I can stay, and be till  
Tomorrow for the sport, I am not so hot  
But I can bathe, and cool myself.  Ar. 
Can you  
Be just hereafter if to buy my own,  
And my friend's safety at so dear a value.  Va 
I'll cut my tongue out e'er reveal my tongue,  
All my concupiscence, and the cause, I will  
Submit to thy own carving; fear not me,  
I hate a blab worse than an honest woman,  
Why so? this wisdom is becoming thee,  
No blubbering, kiss me, and be confident,  
A pretty rogue, tomorrow shall we meet?  Ar. 
Woe is me tomorrow.  Va. 
No, thou shalt laugh tomorrow,  
I'll come to thy own lodgings, that's but reason,  
Farewell, another kiss, be comforted,  
And safe, the Duke knows nothing, all shall live,  
And we'll be very loving, mighty merry.  Ar. 
I must do something to prevent this Devil.  Exit Ardelia. Va. 
Why so, this bargain was well made, and timely.  Enter Leonato. Leo. 
I have no peace within me, till I hear  
How bold Pallanto thrives, oh love upon  
What desperate actions dost thou engage us?  
With scorn of opposition, like a fire  
Which till it turn all that his flame can meet with  
Into itself, expires not; fair Euphemia!  
Bright in thy sorrows, on whom every tear  
Sits like a wealthy Diamond, and inherits  
A Starry-lustre from the eye that shed it,  
The Duke must die— have I betrayed myself.  Va. 
Hold, my Lord you know me.  Leo. 
For Valerio.  
But must hand-back that secret, 'twas not meant  
So early for thy knowledge, from thy bosom  
I'll tear or drown it in thy blood, past search  
Of dangerous intelligence.  Va. 
Hold my Lord,  
You shall not need,  
Think my Lord I know  
The World, and how to keep a secret too,  
Though treason be contained in't, I am not  
So holy as you take me, my good Lord  
For some ends of my own, I wish the Duke  
In another World as heartily as your Lordship,  
And will assist to his conveyance thither,  
Though I be quartered for't, that's fair, and friendly,  
You love Euphemia, why 'tis not amiss,  
I love Ardelia, (I trust you my Lord)  
You for the wife, I for the concubine,  
How could the Duke being in heaven, hurt me now?  
You are his kinsman, were his favourite.  Leo. 
How's that?  Va. 
Oh sir, there is a gentleman my rival,  
One Bentivolio got a round above you  
In favour—  Leo. 
He shall die.  Va. 
No, let him live  
A little while, to kill his highness first,  
And take your own time then to turn the ladder.  Enter Bentivolio. Leo. 
Thou talk'st a mystery.  Va. 
It shall be clear,  
Be advised, and second me my honoured friend,  
You, and my Lord be more familiar.  Leo. 
Sir, I shall serve you.  Ben. 
Make me happy  
My Lord, by your commands.  Ua. Ardelia 
Your Mistress is in health— nay be not stirred.  
I have done you a courtesy by acquainting  
My Lord how things stand, and introth he pities you,  
We have had a counsel merely concerned you,  
And the poor gentlewoman, whom the Duke has not  
Yet lured to fist.  Ben. 
I know not how to thank you.  Va. 
he's next heir toth' Dukedom, and has power  
When his grace dies— imagine, a sweet soul  
May I perish in my hopes, if his eyes did not  
Melt when I told thy story, and how much.  
The innocent Lady suffered.  Ben. 
I am bound  
Much to his goodness.  Leo. 
Sir I would do more  
Than pity your just cause.  Va. 
Nay we ha' cast it,  
And so much above blood, and state, has virtue  
Impression in his heart, he can forget,  
And think the Duke a dead man.  Ben. 
Excellent Lord!  Leo. 
I am ashamed, and trust me have applied  
What my poor learning could affect, to cool  
His riotous blood, but he's incorrigible,  
And now more desperately bent then ever.  Ben. 
To Violate her?  Leo. 
I blush to say't, nor will  
Your person be long safe.  Va. 
Well interposed.  Ben. 
He shines on me with bounteous smiles.  Leo. 
They are dangerous,  
And but engage you to a greater ruin.  
You stand discovered.  Va. 
That's my wonder sir,  
D'ee think your friend Horatio has not wronged you  
In's drink perhaps— some men are such sponges,  
A child may squeeze their soul out.  Ben. 
You fright my senses.  
I do now suspect, the Duke's command toward Ardelia confirms it.  Va. 
Wisdom must prevent  
I know thou hast a daring spirit, we  
Are friends, 'tis clearly our opinion  
You should by Steel or Poison— you conceive me  
For your own safety, and your wives, I call her so  
Whose life, and honour lies a bleeding, 'tis  
Nothing to me, my Lord I told you, is  
Next heir, and cannot but in conscience pardon you.  Leo. 
'twere pity thou shouldst suffer more.  Ben. 
But dare  
Your Lordship mean this.  Leo. 
Be confirmed.  Ben. 
Your counsels  
Have met a spirit, apt in my revenge  
To fly upon the world, I hope I shall  
Be construed in his death, to have done your Lordship  
No great discourtesy, being next heir,  Va. 
'tis to be understood.  Leo. 
The Dukedom made  
Mine by his death, is nothing to the Crown  
Of fair Ardelia's love, in whose free bosom  
My pardon, and best wishes shall soon plant thee  
Past the divorce of tyrants.  Ben. 
I am new  
Created, and build my hopes upon your honour.  Exit. Leo. 
They are secured dost think he's firm, and daring.  Va. 
If he kill not the Duke— I'll cut his throat,  
He sha'not scape howe'er, if I have brains  
I must have all his venison to myself,  
I'll spare nor haunch nor humbles, oh my Lord  
Be confident if he meet the Duke, and time  
Though it cost him a day's Journey, he'll go through him  
'tis his own cause; he was wound up discreetly,  
You do not by this time repent your secret.  
I can be wicked upon good occasion,  
The devil sha'not part us now.  Leo. 
Be constant,  
And meet the truest friend,  Va. 
Meet at a wench  
Till then your humble servant.  Leo. 
My fate smiles  
Conscience steers not ambition by what's good,  
Who looks at crowns or lust, must smile at blood.  Exit. 
Finis Actus quarti.   

Actus Quintus.  Enter Ardelia, Fiametta. Fia. 
HE will no longer be put off with ceremony,  
You must consent this night to his embrace,  
Or take what follows Madam.  Ar. 
I am lost,  
And every minutes filled with new despairs,  
It is in your power to persuade him yet.  Fia. 
I have said too much already.  Ar. 
Say I am not  
In health, poor refuge!  Fia. 
Not in health, the Duke  
Shall give you physic— there be Ladies no  
Dispraise to your beauty, would be sick a purpose  
To have the Duke their Doctor.  Ar. 
What can cure  
My sick fate? oh my heart, poor Bentivolio,  
On what high going waves do we two fail,  
Without a Star or Pilot to direct  
Our reeling bark? Valerio too expects  
A black reward for silence, he is here,  Enter Ualerio. 
Already? do not leave me Fiametta,  
I charge thee by thy duty to his highness.  Fia. 
Why what's the matter?  Va. 
Let me pay a duty  
To her white hand, whom the Duke only honours,  
You look not with a cheerful countenance Madam.  Ar. 
I am not well my Lord.  Va. 
I am excellent at  
Restoring health, send of Tisiphone  
I would not have her Picture i'th' room  
When we are at generation.  Ar. 
she's commanded  
To stay here.  Va. 
How? commanded? Madam I have  
Commission to impart some private meanings  
From his highness to this Lady.  Fia. 
And I have  
Order, this my Lady have no such conference,  
But I must be a witness.  Va. 
You will not  
Contest I hope, and dispute my authority,  
What an officious fury 'tis? how shall I  
Be rid on her? Madam you see this Ring,  
A friend of yours signior Horatio  
Desires another meeting by this token.  Whispers with Fiametta. Fia. 
Where is my noble servant?  Va. 
But you must  
Express your love in making haste, I knew  
Although for mirth I flattered Scolopendra,  
That you would carry him, but lose no time.  Fia. 
Lend me thy wings sweet love to fly to him.  Exit. Va. 
Fly to the Devil, he wants a companion,  
I'll shut the door after your beldamship,  
And trust myself with key.  Ar. 
You do not mean  
To play the ravisher my Lord.  Va. 
As if  
You meant to put me to't, I have your promise  
And where consents meet in the act of love,  
The pleasures multiply to infinite.  Ar. 
Infinite horror! yet my Lord, be a man.  Va. 
You shall not doubt that Madam, if you will  
Apply yourself discreetly, we lose time,  
Although I be no Duke, I can present thee  
With all the pleasures, appetite can wish for  
Within love's empire, when you know me Madam,  
You will repent this tedious ignorance,  
And not exchange my person, to clasp with  
The greatest Prince alive, (Christian or infidel,  
Though I commend myself, I ha' those ways  
To please a Lady.  Ar. 
Ways to please the Devil?  Va. 
You won't be coy now.  Ar. 
My Lord I know,  
At least I hope, howe'er you speak a language  
Rather to fright then court a woman's thoughts,  
(Not yet acquainted with her own dishonour)  
You have some love within your heart.  Va. 
Canst thou  
Suspect it? wilt thou see my heart?  
Give me a fortnight's warning, and let me  
But all that while possess thy love, and those  
Delights I'll prompt thee too, I'll wish to live  
No longer, get what surgeon thou wot  
To cut me to a Skeleton, not love thee?  Ar. 
Then by that love my Lord, I must desire you  
At this time to defer your expectation,  
And leave my Chamber.  Va. 
Quit the Chamber Madam?  Ar. 
If not for love of me, for your own safety,  
There is danger in your stay, for every minute  
I do expect a visit from the Duke.  Va. 
This is some trick, you sha'not fright me Lady,  
I must have that I came for.  Ar. 
Meet it here  Shows a Pistol. 
Licentious devil, I shall do a benefit  
To the world, in thus removing such a traitor,  
To man, and woman's honour, you shall carry  
No tales to his highness, if thou hast a soul.  
Pray, 'tis my charity to let thee live  
Two minutes longer.  Va. 
Madam, Ardelia,  
You won't use me thus,  Ar. 
Will you pray sir?  Va. 
Alas I have forgot, I ha' not prayed  
This twenty years at least, I am willing Madam  
To obey, and quit the Chamber, pardon me,  
My ghost may in revenge else, do you a mischief,  
And betray Bentivolio to the Duke,  
But if you let me live, I will be dumb,  
Madam consider a wild flesh, and blood,  
And give me leave to spend my rest of life,  
Only in thinking out some fit repentance,  
For I will never speak, if you suspect me.  One knocks. 
The Duke is come already, I am undone  
Mercy, and some concealment.  Goes behind the hangings. Bentivolio opens the door. Ben. 
Ardelia  
Alone, I heard another voice, with whom  
Were you in Dialogue, and the door so fast?  Ar. 
It is but your suspicion.  Ben. 
This dissembling  
I like not.  Ar. 
If he know who 'tis, I shall  
Inflame his Jealousy— dear heart appear  
Less troubled, do not throw such busy eyes  
About the room, I'll whisper't in thy ear,  
The Duke—  Ben. 
Where?  Ar. 
There, obscured behind the hangings  
Upon thy entrance.  Ben. 
Guilt has made him fearful,  
Oh I am lost, and thou art now not worth  
My glorious rescue.  Ar. 
Softly, by all goodness  
He has not injured me, and if you durst  
But trust our private conference, I'll die  
Rather than bring thee ruins of my honour.  Ben. 
If thou be'st yet white, my own arm secures thee  
From all his lust hereafter.  Va. 
Oh  He wounds Valerio behind the hangings. 
I am murdered.  Ar. 
What have you done?  Ben. 
Nothing but killed the Duke,  
You shall with me?  Ar. 
Whither?  Ben. 
No matter where.  
So we escape the infection of this Air.  Exeunt. Valerio falls into the Stage. Va. 
I am caught in my own toils, by the same Engine  
I raised to the Duke's death, I fall myself,  
The mystery of fate, I am rewarded,  
And that which was the rank part of my life,  
My blood, is met withal, and 'tis my wonder  
My veins should run so clear a red, wherein  
so much black sin was wont to bathe itself,  
I would look up, and beg with my best strength  
Of voice, and heart forgiveness, but heaven's just,  
Thus death pays treason, and blood quencheth lust.  Moritur Enter Leontio, melancholy. Some cry treason within. Leo. 
Although I love, and wish the act of treason  
The noise yet comes to near me.  Enter Strozzi. Str. 
Oh my Lord!  
The Duke is killed.  Leo. 
The Duke? by what black murderer?  Str. 
That gives the State another wound, we cannot  
Suspect who was the traitor, to revenge it,  
But whosoever was guilty of this parricide,  
Is still within the Court, the deeds so fresh  
He cannot be far off.  Leo. 
Shut up the gates,  
And plant a strong guard round about the palace,  
Let none go forth in pain of death, the devil  
Sha'not obscure him here with his black wings,  
Though he rob Hell to cover us with darkness,  
we'll find him under twenty fogs, and drag him  
To his just torment.  Str. 
Y'are his pious successor.  Exit. Leo. 
'tis done, and my ambition's satisfied  
Contain my heart, but to which bold assassinate  
Pallante or Bentivolio must I owe  
This bloody service.  Enter Pallante Pall. 
I ha' done't my Lord.  Leo. 
Softly, thou art my brave, and glorious villain.  Pall. 
There have been better titles sir, bestowed  
On men of my desert, the killing of  
My lawful Prince, hath been esteemed an act  
'Bove the reward of villain, though I know  
I am one, and a monstrous villain too,  
I would not be called so.  Leo. 
Thou shalt divide  
Titles with me, dost think I'll not reward it?  
Thou art sad.  Pall. 
I am a little melancholy  
After my work.  Leo. 
Dost thou repent thy service?  Pall. 
Were he alive, I'd kill him again for you.  
'tis not his death that haunts my conscience,  
But the condition, and State he died in,  
That troubles me.  Leo. 
What State, or what condition?  Pall. 
When I had taught him to believe he was not  
Long lived, and that your Lordship had by me.  
Sent him a writ of ease, for I'll make short.  Leo. 
Didst thou discover me?  Pall. 
Why not? I was  
To take an order he should ne'er reveal it,  
Upon the mention of your name my Lord.  
He fetched a sigh, I thought would have prevented  
My execution on his heart, as if  
That were a greater wound than death upon him,  
But I, whose resolute soul was deaf to his prayer,  
Bathed in as many tears, as would have wrought  
A Marble to compassion, bid him choose  
The humour he would die in, and collect  
Some thoughts to wait upon him to eternity,  
And what do you think he made his choice?  Leo. 
I know not.  Pall. 
To die an honest man, no wish to part  
The world with fair Ardelia in his arms, and give his ghost up in a wanton kiss.  
But with a thousand groans, calling upon  
Euphemia to forgive him, to whose virtue  
His soul was going forth, to meet, and seal  
To it, a new, and everlasting marriage,  
Nay he had so much charity to forgive  
You sir, and me, and would have prayed for us,  
But that I sent the message to his bosom  
That made him quiet, and so left his highness  
Had he died obstinate in his sins, the wanton  
Lascivious Duke he lived, I would not blush for't.  Leo. 
Why, dost relent for this?  Pall. 
I find some mutiny  
In my conscience, pray my Lord tell me  
Do not you wish it were undone.  Leo. 
Thou hast  
The tremblings of an infant, it exalts  
My thoughts to another heaven, Pallante thou  
Must not leave here, but make Leontio, owe  
His perfect blessing to thy act, go to  
Euphemia, and with thy best art drop  
This news into her ear.  
Within. Away with 'em.  Leo. 
What tumults that?  Enter Bentivolio, and Ardelia with officers Off. 
My Lord we have found the traitor  
He does confess he killed the Duke.  Pall. 
how's that?  Leo. 
He killed the Duke? 'tis Bentivolio.  Ben. 
I did my Lord, you sha'not trouble much  
Examination, with this hand I sacrificed  
Ferneze, and you ought to call my act  
Pious, and thank me for removing such  
A tyrant, whose perfidious breath had heaven  
Been longer patient would have blasted Parma.  Leo. 
And in the confidence of this service done,  
You present yourself to be rewarded.  Ben. 
I meant not to have troubled you for that  
Had not their force compelled us back.  Leo. 
Come nearer.  Ar. 
I wonder at this noise of the Duke's death,  
Valerio's tragedy is all that we  
Are guilty of, which yet I have concealed  
From Bentivolio.  Leo. 
Had you no aid  
To this great execution, did you do't alone?  Ben. 
Alone, and 'tis my glory that  
No hand can boast his fatal wound but mine,  
And if you dare be just my Lord.  Leo. 
Be confident,  
There is some mystery in this Pallante  
Both could not kill the Duke, he does accuse,  
himself.  Pall. 
I am all wonder my good Lord.  Leo. 
You are sure 'tis done.  Ben. 
Now you dishonour me,  
D'ee know blood royal, when you see't, you may  
Believe that crimson evidence, I hope  
Your Lordship will remember.  Leo. 
Fear it not,  
But for a time you must be prisoner  
To satisfy a little form upon  
My life, no danger shall approach thee, trust  
My honour, though I frown, and call thee traitor  
I will study thy preserving next my own,  
Is not this strange Pallante that he'll take  
The guilt upon himself, if both have killed him  
No fear but he's dead, this fool Pallante  
Shall quickly by his death secure thy Fate.  
Put on a cunning face mean time, and narrowly  
Observe the full behaviour of the Court,  
But 'specially insinuate with the greatest,  
And as they talk of me, declare my passion,  
And with what horror, I received the death  
Of our good Duke, my pious zeal to appease  
That blessed spirit with his murderer's blood,  
In care to their own heads, they will proclaim  
Me Duke, I'll to Euphemia, and by some  
Strong art make her my own.  Pall. 
Your grace is prudent.  Leo. 
Away toth' prison with 'em.  Ar. 
Let me bear  
Him company my Lord.  Leo. 
You sha'not doubt it  
Good Madam mischief, and repent together,  
As you are like to bleed, and with full torture,  
Howl out your wretched lives for the Duke's murder.  Ar. 
You are deceived my Lord, we won't die  
For that offence.  Leo. 
You won't, glorious strumpet.  Ar. 
Y'are a most  
Uncivil Lord, thy birth had not more innocence  
To justify thy mother.  Ben. 
I'll be modest,  
And say, this is not honourable.  Leo. 
So Sir,  
You will have time to talk at your arraignment,  
Away with 'em, now to Euphemia.  Exit. Enter oratio, and Fiametta. Fia. 
Did you not send for me, and by this token?  Ho. 
Follow me not, unless thou wilt swear to imitate  
What I shall lead thee too by my example,  
For rather than not be rid of thee, at next  
Convenient river I will drown myself,  
And think I go a martyrdom by water.  
Cannot a Gentleman be merry w'ee,  
But you will make him mad?  Fia. 
I'll never leave thee,  
I will petition to the Duke, and plead  
A contract.  Ho. 
thou'lt be damned then.  Fia. 
What care I.  Ho. 
So, I should have a blessing in this fiend,  
This child of darkness once removed, I send for thee,  
And by a token? I would sooner send  
For the hangman, and pay him double fees  
To strangle me, what I endured before,  
Think 'twas a penance for some mighty sins  
I had committed, and be quiet now.  Fia. 
Did you not love me then?  Ho. 
Love thee? consider  
What thou hast said, and hang thyself immediately,  
I'll sooner dote upon a mare, dost hear me,  
A mare with fourscore, and nineteen diseases,  
And she the greatest to make up a hundred,  
Then harbour one such monstrous thought, thou art  
A thing, no Cat that comes of a good kind,  
Will keep the company, and yet thou look'st  
So like a miserable o'ergrown vermin,  
Now I think better on't, it is my wonder  
thouart not devoured quick, leave me yet.  Fia. 
Not I Sir,  
I know you love me still, all this is but  
To try my constancy.  Ho. 
Art thou so ignorant,  
Or impudent, or both? let me entreat thee  
But to have something of a beast about thee.  
Thy senses in some measure, look but how  
I frown upon thee, for thy safety therefore,  
If thou hast no desire to save my credit  
Abroad, tame thy concupiscence, we draw  
All the spectators but to laugh, and wonder at's,  
And I shall be the greater prodigy  
For talking so long with thee, wilt be ruled,  
And trudge from whence thou cam'st, good honest bruit,  
My humours out of breath, and I ha' done,  
But all that's ugly in thy face, or what's  
Unseen deformity, I am now in earnest,  
And therefore do not tempt me.  Fia. 
My dear Signior.  
To what?  Ho. 
Why, after all to beat thee, if  
Thou leav'st me not the sooner.  Fia. 
Are not you  
My Servant?  Ho. 
But in passion I forget things,  
And if my Mistress want discretion,  
I shall, in my pure zeal to have her wise,  
Beat some into her, most abominably  
Beat her, and make deformity to swell,  
She sha'not get in to her chamber door.  
I'll bruise, and make thee up into a ball,  
And boys shall kick thee home, dost thou not fear me?  Fia. 
I'll endure any thing from thee, my love  
Shall think no pain a suffering, come, kiss me  
But once, and I will die thy patient martyr.  Ho. 
She would be killed, to have me hang for her,  
Was ever such an impudence in woman?  
You that are handsome Ladies, I do ask  
Forgiveness and believe it possible  
You may be less vexations to men.  
Dost hear? to tell thee truth, for it will out  
By some, or other, you must here discharge  
Your dotage, for it is but two hours since  
I was married.  Fia. 
Married? to whom?  Ho. 
Tothth' tother  
Wild bear that courted me, to Scolopendra,  
She met i'th' nick, and we clapped up.  
And you know 'tis not conscience to abuse  
Our honest wedlock.  Fia. 
I shall run mad.  Ho. 
would thou wouldst run into the Sea, and see  
If I would go a fishing for thee.  Fia. 
Furies,  
Rise in my brain, and help me to revenge.  Ho. 
I am afraid she'll beat me now.  Fia. 
False man,  
I have not breath enough to rail, and curse  
Thy apostasy, how couldst thou use me thus?  
But seek some sudden way to be divorced,  
Or one shall die.  Ho. 
would thou wert buried quick.  Fia. 
But are  
You married, tell me sweet Horatio,  
And must I wear a willow garland for thee?  Ho. 
Wear a halter.  Fia. 
It is not possible, thou canst be so  
Unkind to me.  Ho. 
You may believe it Madam.  Fia. 
Yet I must love thee till I die, and you  
May keep me alive, with now, and then some favour,  
It wants no precedent, we may kiss I hope,  
And thus walk arm in arm, would deny  
Thee nothing.  Ho. 
Do not vanish me good Madam.  A noise within. 
The people hoot already, none to rescue me.  Enter Bentivolio, and Ardelia guarded. 
Is not this Bentivolio, under guard,  
And his fair Mistress pinioned? how now friend,  
Wither are you bound with such a convoy.  1. 
To prison, they are traitors.  Ho. 
Traitors.  Ar. 
Do not believe 'em.  1. 
They have killed the Duke.  Fia. 
How's that?  1. 
Do you know him sir?  Fia. 
Dear Madam are you prisoner too.  Ho. 
Take me along,  
Better be hanged then haunted with that goblin.  1. 
Another of the conspiracy disarmed him.  Ho. 
Let me but speak a word to this old Damsel.  1. 
she's of the plot too.  Fia. 
I? I defy him,  
I know him not.  Ho. 
I hope you won't leave me in distress  
Love, Mistress ladybird.  Fia. 
I defy all traitors  
Away with 'em, the Duke killed! out upon 'em,  
That Fellow always had a hanging countenance  
Bless me, defend me.  Exit. Ho. 
'Tis well treason will  
Make her forsake me yet.  Ben. 
Dost know on what  
Danger thou dost engage thyself?  Ho. 
Although  
I die for company 'tis worth it gentlemen  
You know not how you have relieved me Madam,  
I did expect you'd bring him into mischief,  
I am perfect in your sex now, come to prison.  Ar. 
You may repent your malice sir.  Ho. 
And you  
May be a Saint, away with us, come friend,  
Women have made me weary of the World,  
And hanging is a help, we might ha' lived  
If you had ta'en my counsel, nay I'll share w'ed  
I ha' not lost all my good fellowship.  Enter Duke disguised, with Euphemia. Exeunt. Eup. 
My sorrows, I forgive you all, this blessing  
Has overpaid my heart, and though it crack  
With weight of this so unexpected happiness,  
I shall die more than satisfied.  Du. and Euphemia. 
Thou art too merciful, and my repentance  
Is yet too feeble, and too short a wonder,  
Sure thou dost flatter me, if not heaven suffered,  
My fall with holy cunning to let thee  
Shine the World's great example of forgiveness.  Eup. 
But wherefore does your grace come hither thus  
Disguised, being yourself, and mine again, what needs  
This cloud upon your person, truth did never  
Shame the professor.  Du. 
Though I live to thee,  
The World do think me dead Euphemia,  
Leonato whom I loved, and trusted most,  
Designed my everlasting farewell from thee,  
But he that should have been my executioner,  
Without disordering this poor heap of nature,  
Gave me another life, and growth to virtue,  
Pallante, blessed good man  Eup. 
Leonate's creature,  Du. 
That honest Soldier after by his counsel,  
I put this shape on, while to my false kinsman  
He gives relation of my death, this key  
He lent for my access to thy sad chamber,  
I hope he is returned.  Leonato opens the door. 
'tis Leonato.  
My heart o'th' sudden trembles with the fear  
Of a near danger, I am unarmed too,  
For our defence— Madam you are not wise,  
And merit not this providence to dote  
Upon a shadow, your dead husband, when  
Leonato lives, with more ambition to  
Succeed him in your love, than this fair Dukedom.  Leo. 
What fellows this that pleads my cause, 'tis some  
Pallante has appointed to prepare her,  Du. 
With pardon, you deserve him not, and were  
I Leonato— my good Lord.  Leo. 
Spare your  
Dull Rhetoric sir.  Du. 
That I could snatch  
His sword, I dare not call for help, or leave 'em  
She may be lost within a pair of minutes,  
My heart, my brain!  Leo. 
Madam you said your vow  
Was made for life, Ferneze's death hath cancelled  
That obligation, and in midst of tears  
Fate smiles upon you, if you dare look up,  
And meet it with a will to be made happy  
He courts you now, has power to kill all sorrow,  
From these fair eyes, be just to your kind fortune,  
And dress your face with your first beauty, Madam,  
It may become the change, why weep you still.  Eup. 
I weep for you my Lord.  Leo. 
For me.  Eup. 
Because  
You cannot for yourself, pray tell me sir,  
Is the Duke dead in earnest, you have not  
A mourning face, but great heirs seldom die  
With sudden grief, or weeping for their Father,  
Or Kinsmen's Funeral, I pray how died he?  
Although he were not kind to take his leave,  
I would pay my obsequy of tears upon,  
His Hearse, and weep a prayer to his cold dust.  Leo. 
That may be time enough.  Eup. 
How I desire  
To kiss his lip again, oh show me yet  
Where's the pale ruins of my dead Lord? stay  
He shall have half my soul, where's a soft,  
And silent breath I will convey to warm,  
And quicken his stiff bosom.  Leo. 
Madam, what's  
All this to my reward?  Eup. 
Reward for what.  Leo. 
My love which for your sake, and let me tell you  
Not without some encouragement from you,  
To give your heart more freedom to meet ruin,  
Hath sent the Duke to heaven.  Eup. 
Thou art a murderer,  
Treason?  Du. 
Treason.  Leo. 
Who was that.  Du. 
Some echo  
Within the Chamber, nothing else my Lord.  Leo. 
Is not the Duke's ghost hovering hereabout,  
It has a clamour like his voice, ha, but  
I can take order for your silence, use  
That tongue again, with the least accent to  
Affright the air, and I'll dismiss thy soul,  
To wait upon thy husbands angry shade.  Du. 
Horror? what can preserve us but a miracle?  Leo. 
Yet I'll not so much favour you, 'tis death  
Perhaps you have ambition too.  Du. 
One word  
My gracious Lord, it has been my trade to deal  
With women, with your pardon you do practise  
Too tame a courtship for her nature, use  
The opportunity, and force her, to your  
Pleasures, away with Sword, and buckle with her,  
Leave me to keep the door, I ha' been used to to't  
she'll thank you when 'tis done, lose no time in talk.  Leo. 
Ha? do thy office.  Du. 
Would your Lordship know me?  
You shall— what think you of this officer?  
False to thy blood; thy honour, and thy Prince,  
Y'are caught my precious kinsman, and I live  
With my own hand to be revenged upon thee,  Leo. 
Ha then thorough her, I will receive my mends,  
I did suspect that voice, had not my confidence  
Of thy most certain death betrayed me thus,  
I would have made sure work, some Fate direct  
His Sword thorough both our hearts.  Du. 
No Treason, Treason.  Enter Pallante, Strozzi, Silvio, Ascanio, with a guard, they wound Leonato. Leo. 
So let me employ the short breath that remains  
To tell you I engaged Pallante, to  
The Duke's death with a full hope to satisfy  
Lust, and ambition, but he juggled with me,  
And so has Bentivolio, though he be  
With his Ardelia in prison, for  
Acknowledging himself your murderer,  
To which Valerio, and myself inflamed him.  Du. 
Valerio traitor too.  Sil. 
Sir he is slain,  
His wounded body found in Ardelia's chamber.  Du. 
Ardelia!  
This dark mischief shall be cleared  
Strozzi, command Bentivolo,  
And Ardelia be instantly brought hither?  Str. 
I shall sir.  Du. 
Most ingrateful Leonato.  Leo. 
I know I am not worth your charity,  
And yet my Lord your cruelty upon  
Euphemia, and some licence I took from  
The example of your wanton blood, was ground  
Of these misfortunes, 't seems Y'are reconciled,  
Be worth her love hereafter, thou wert just,  
Pallante, be still faithful to thy Prince,  
I beg your general pardon.  Du. 
We forgive thee.  Leo. 
Heaven is a great way of, and I shall be  
Ten thousand years in travel, yet 'twere happy  
If I may find a lodging there at last,  
Though my poor soul get thither upon crutches  
It cannot stay, farewell, again forgive me.  Pall. 
He is dead.  Eup. 
I pity him.  Enter Strozzi. Str. 
The prisoners wait.  Du. 
Admit 'em.  Enter Bentivolio, Ardelia, Horatio. 
Was your life so great a burden  
That you upon the rumour of our murder,  
Would take the act upon you, though you had  
Promised to be the traitor, or did you  
Envy another man should own the glory,  
And title of our bloody executioner.  Ben. 
ay, but confessed the guilt I then believed.  Du. 
This is a mystery.  Ar. 
I can best clear it.  Sil. 
'tis my wonder how?  
Valerio was slain.  Ben. 
That I must answer,  
Although my Sword then promised to another  
Revenge, yet in the wound he met a Justice,  
I now repent not.  Eup. 
What's that gentleman.  Ho. 
I am one Madam that do court my friend here,  
So well that though he be in fair election  
To lose his Head, or to be Strangled—  
Had rather take such as I find with him,  
Then live to be tormented with a woman.  Eup. 
What woman.  Ho. 
Any woman, without difference,  
I have heard your grace has a good fame, and though  
It does become your subjects to believe it,  
I was not borne here Madam, and i've had  
Such ill luck with your sex, it does not bind  
My faith, 'tis possible there may be good  
Both fair, and honest women, but they were never  
Under my acquaintance, no Noah yet ill-favoured,  
In whom I only looked to find a soul,  
But boast my labour. This is all truth Madam:  Eup. 
His humour makes me smile.  Du. 
Enough, not only  
Our pardon for Valerio's death, I give  
Thee back Ardelia, she was my Mistress  
But I return her pure as thy own wishes.  Ben. 
This grace is mighty sir.  Du. 
we'll see you married,  
And what our person, and Euphemia's  
Can add to grace you.  Ar. 
Y'ave already blessed us,  
And heaven shower joys upon you.  Du. 
The next thing is to honour thee Pallante,  
Thou savest my life, and didst now marry me,  
Thy faith is not rewarded.  Pall. 
'Was my duty.  Ho. 
What, is all well again? and is she honest.  Ben. 
Most innocent.  Ho. 
Then she's too good for thee,  
Come the truth is, and now I'll speak my conscience  
If there be few good women in the World,  
The fault rise first from one of our own sex,  
By flattery in falsehood to deceive 'em,  
And so the punishment does but descend  
To us in justice.  Ar. 
That's some charity.  Du. 
Come my Euphemia, this second knot  
Shall be as firm as destiny, nor shall  
whatever was to our chaste vow a shame,  
In my lives after Story have a name.  Exeunt Omnes.  
FINIS.   

Epilogue. for Horatio.  

GEntlemen, and Ladies,  
If I have transgressed in any language  
〈◊〉 handsome faces, I hope you will forgive  
Me, and imagine, I have but played the part, which  
Was most against my Genius, of any that ever I  
Acted in my life, to speak truth,  
Who is so simple to dote upon Witches, and hel-Cats.  
Venus deliver us, the Poet stands listening behind the arras  
To hear what will become on's Play, under the  
Rose if you will seem to like it I'll put  
A trick upon him.  
For though he hear when you applaud, I'll say  
Your hands did seal my pardon, not the Play.   
FINIS.