THE ATHEIST'S tragedy: OR The honest Man's Revenge. As in divers places it hath often been Acted.  
WRITTEN By Cyril Tourneur.  
AT LONDON, Printed for john Stepneth, and Richard Redmer, and are to be sold at their Shops at the West end of Paul's. 1611.   


The names and qualities of the Actors.  
Montferrers, a Baron.  
Belforest, a Baron.  
D'amville, brother to Montferrers.  
Levidulcia, Lady to Belforest.  
Castabella, Daughter to Belforest.  
Charlemont, son to Montferrers.  
Rousard, elder Son to D'amville.  
Sebastian, younger Son to D'amville.  
Languebeau Sauffe, a Puritan; Chaplain to Belforest.  
Borachio, Damville's instrument.  
Cataplasma, a maker of periwigs and Attires.  
Soquette, a seeming Gentlewoman to Cataplasma.  
Fresco, Servant to Cataplasma.  
Other servants.  
Sergeant in war.  
soldiers.  
Watchmen.  
Officers.  
judges.    

THE ATHEIST'S Tragedy.  
Actus primi Scena prima.  Enter D'amuille, Borachio, attended. D'amuille. 
I Saw my Nephew Charlemont, but now  
Part from his Father. Tell him I desire  
To speak with him.  Exit Servant. 
Borachio, thou art read  
In Nature and her large Philosophy.  
Observest thou not the very self same course  
Of revolution both in Man and Beast?  Bor. 
The same. For birth, growth, state, decay and death:  
Only, a Man's beholding to his Nature  
For th'better composition o'the two.  D'am. 
But where that favour of his Nature, is  
Not full and free; you fee a man becomes  
A fool, as little-knowing as a beast.  Bor. 
That shows there's nothing in a Man, above  
His nature; if there were, considering 'tis  
His being's excellency, 'twould not yield  
To Nature's weakness.  D'am. 
Then if Death casts up  
Our total sum of joy and happiness;  
Let me have all my senses feasted in  
Th'abundant fullness of delight at once,  
And with a sweet insensible increase  
Of pleasing surfeit melt into my dust.  Bor. 
That revolution is too short methinks.  
If this life comprehends our happiness,  
How foolish to desire to die so soon?  
And if our time runs home unto the length  
Of Nature, how improvident it were  
To spend our substance on a minute's pleasure,  
And after live an age in misery?  D'am. 
So thou concludest that pleasure only flows  
Upon the stream of riches.  Bor. 
Wealth is Lord  
Of all felicity.  D'am. 
'tis Oracle.  
For what's a man that's honest without wealth?  Bor. 
Both miserable and contemptible.  D'am. 
he's worse Borachio. For if Charity  
Be an essential part of Honesty,  
And should be practised first upon ourselves;  
Which must be granted; then your honest man  
That's poor, is most dishonest, for he is  
Uncharitable to the Man, whom he  
Should most respect. But what doth this touch me,  
That seem to have enough? Thanks industry.  
'tis true. Had not my Body spread itself  
Into posterity; perhaps I should  
Desire no more increase of substance, then  
Would hold proportion with mine own dimensions.  
Yet even in that sufficiency of state,  
A man has reason to provide and add.  
For what is he hath such a present eye,  
And so prepared a strength; that can foresee,  
And fortify his substance and himself,  
Against those accidents, the least whereof  
May rob him of an age's husbandry?  
And for my children; they are as near to me,  
As branches to the tree whereon they grow;  
And may as numerously be multiplied.  
As they increase, so should my providence;  
For from my substance they receive the sap,  
Whereby they live and flourish.  Bor. 
Sir enough,  
I understand the mark whereat you aim.  Enter Charlemont. D'am. 
Silence. Ware interrupted. Charlemont!  Char. 
Good morrow Uncle.  D'am. 
Noble Charlemont;  
Good morrow. Is not this the honoured day  
You purposed to set forward to the war?  Char. 
My inclination did intend it so.  D'am. 
And not your resolution?  Char. 
Yes my Lord;  
Had not my Father contradicted it.  D'am. 
O noble war! Thou first original  
Of all man's honour. How dejectedly,  
The baser Spirit of our present time  
Hath cast itself below the ancient worth  
Of our forefathers! From whose noble deeds  
Ignobly we derive our pedigrees.  Charl. 
Sir, tax not me for his unwillingness.  
By the command of his authority,  
My disposition's forced against itself.  D'am. 
Nephew, you are the honour of our blood.  
The troup of Gentry, whose inferior worth  
Should second your example, are become  
Your Leaders: and the scorn of their discourse,  
Turns smiling back upon your backwardness.  Charl. 
You need not urge my spirit by disgrace  
'tis free enough. My Father hinders it.  
To curb me, he denies me maintenance  
To put me in the habit of my rank.  
Unbind me from that strong necessity,  
And call me Coward if I stay behind.  D'am. 
For want of means? Borachio! Where's the gold?  
I'd disinherit my posterity  
To purchase honour. 'tis an interest  
I prize above the principal of wealth.  
I'm glad I had th'occasion to make known  
How readily my substance shall unlock  
itself to serve you. Here's a thousand Crowns.  Charl. 
My worthy uncle; in exchange for this,  
I leave my bond. So I am doubly bound;  
By that for the repayment of this gold,  
And by this gold to satisfy your love.  D'am. 
Sir; 'tis a witness (only) of my love;  
And love doth always satisfy itself.  
Now to your Father; labour his consent.  
My importunity shall second yours.  
we will obtain it.  Charl. 
If entreaty fail,  
The force of reputation shall prevail.  Exit. D'am. 
Go call my Sons, that they may take their leaves  
Of noble Charlemont. Now my Borachio!  Bor. 
The substance of our former argument  
Was wealth.  D'am. 
The question how to compass it.  Bor. 
Young Charlemont is going to the war.  Dam. 
O, thou beginnest to take me.  Bor. 
Mark me then.  
methinks, the pregnant wit of Man, might make  
The happy absence of this Charlemont,  
A subject for commodious providence.  
He has a wealthy Father; ready e'en  
To drop into his grave. And no man's power  
When Charlemont is gone, can interpose  
'Twixt you and him.  D'am. 
thoust apprehended; both  
My meaning and my love. Now let thy trust,  
For undertaking and for secrecy,  
Hold measure with thy amplitude of wit;  
And thy reward shall parallel thy worth.  Bor. 
My resolution has already bound  
Me to your service.  D'am. 
And my heart to thee.  Enter Rousard and Sebastian. 
Here are my Sons.—  
There's my eternity. My life in them;  
And their succession shall for ever live.  
And in my reason dwells the providence,  
To add to life as much of happiness.  
Let all men lose, so I increase my gain,  
I have no feeling of another's pain.  Exeunt. Enter old Montferrers and Charlemont. Mont. 
I prithee let this current of my tears,  
Divert thy inclination from the war.  
For of my children thou are only left,  
To promise a succession to my house.  
And all the honour thou canst get by arms,  
Will give but vain addition to thy name;  
Since from thy ancestors thou dost derive  
A dignity sufficient; and as great  
As thou hast substance to maintain and bear.  
I prithee stay at home.  Charl. 
My noble Father.  
The weakest sigh you breath, hath power to turn  
My strongest purpose; and your softest tear  
To melt my resolution to as soft  
Obedience. But my affection to the war,  
Is as hereditary as my blood,  
To every life of all my ancestry.  
Your predecessors were your precedents;  
And you are my example. Shall I serve  
For nothing but a vain Parenthesis,  
i'th' honoured story of your Family?  
Or hang but like an empty Scutcheon,  
Between the trophies of my predecessors.  
And the rich Arms of my posterity?  
There's not a Frenchman of good blood and youth'  
But either out of spirit or example,  
Is turned a Soldier. Only Charlemont  
Must be reputed that same heartless thing,  
That Cowards will be bold to play upon.  Enter D'amville, Rousard and Sebastian. D'am. 
Good morrow my Lord.  Mont. 
Morrow good brother.  Charl. 
Good morrow Uncle.  D'am. 
Morrow kind Nephew.  
What? ha'you washed your eyes wi' tearestears this morning?  
Come: by my soul his purpose does deserve  
Your free consent. Your tenderness dissuades him.  
What to the Father of a Gentleman,  
Should be more tender than the maintenance  
And the increase of honour to his house?  
My Lord; here are my Boys. I should be proud  
That either this were able, or that inclined  
To be my nephews brave competitor.  Mont. 
Your importunities have overcome.  
Pray God my forced grant prove not ominous.  D'am. 
We have obtained it.— Ominous? in what?  
It cannot be in anything but death.  
And I am of a confident belief,  
That e'en the time, place, manner of our deaths,  
Do follow Fate with that necessity;  
That makes us sure to die. And in a thing  
Ordained so certainly unalterable,  
What can the use of providence prevail?  Belforest, Levidulcia, Castabella, attended. Bel. 
Morrow my Lord Montferrers, Lord D'amville.  
Good morrow Gentlemen. Cousin Charlemont!  
Kindly good morrow. Troth I was afeard  
I should ha' come too late, to tell you that  
I wish your undertakings a success  
That may deserve the measure of their worth.  Char. 
My Lord; my duty would not let me go,  
Without receiving your commandments.  Bel. 
Accomplements are more for ornament,  
Then use. we should employ no time in them,  
But what our serious business will admit.  Mont. 
Your favour had by his duty been prevented,  
If we had not withheld him in the way.  D'am. 
He was a-coming to present his service.  
But now no more. The Cook invites to breakfast.  
willt please your Lordship enter.— Noble Lady.  Manent Charlemont and Castabella. Charl. 
My noble Mistress! this accomplishment  
Is like an elegant and moving speech,  
Composed of many sweet persuasive points,  
Which second one another, with a fluent  
Increase, and confirmation of their force,  
Reserving still the best until the last,  
To crown the strong impulsion of the rest  
With a full conquest of the hearers sense:  
Because th'impression of the last we speak  
Doth always longest and most constantly  
Possess the entertainment of remembrance.  
So all that now salute my taking leave,  
Have added numerously to the love,  
Wherewith I did receive their courtesy.  
But you (dear Mistress) being the last and best  
That speaks my farewell; like th'imperious close  
Of a most sweet Oration, wholly have  
Possessed my liking, and shall ever live  
Within the soul of my true memory.  
So (Mistress) with this kiss I take my leave.  Casta. 
My worthy Servant! you mistake th'intent  
Of kissing. 'twas not meant to separate  
A pair of Lovers; but to be the seal  
Of Love; importing by the joining of  
Our mutual and incorporated breathes,  
That we should breathe but one contracted life.  
Or stay at home, or let me go with you.  Charl. 
My Castabella! for myself to stay,  
Or you to go, would either tax my youth  
With a dishonourable weakness, or  
Your loving purpose with immodesty.  Enter Languebeau snuff. 
And for the satisfaction of your love,  
Here comes a man whose knowledge I have made  
A witness to the contract of our vows,  
Which my return by marriage shall confirm.  Lang. 
I salute you both with the spirit of copulation, 〈◊〉 already informed of your matrimonial purposes, and will testimony to the integrity.  Casta. 
O the sad trouble of my fearful soul!  
My faithful servant! did you never hear,  
That when a certain great man went to th'war,  
The lovely face of heaven was masked with sorrow,  
The sighing winds did move the breast of earth,  
The heavy clouds hung down their mourning heads,  
And wept sad showers the day that he went hence,  
As if that day presaged some ill success,  
That fatally should kill his happiness;  
And so it came to pass. methinks my eyes  
(Sweet Heaven forbid) are like those weeping clouds,  
And as their showers presaged so do my tears,  
Some sad event will follow my sad fears.  Charl. 
Fie, superstitious? is it bad to kiss?  Casta. 
May all my fears hurt me no more than this.  Lang. 
Fie, fie, fie, these carnal kisses do stir up the Concupiscences of the flesh.  Enter Belforest and Levidulcia. Leuid. 
O! here's your daughter under her servants lips.  Charl. 
madam, there is no cause you should mistrust  
The kiss I gave, 'twas but a parting one.  Leuid. 
A lusty blood! Now by the lip of Love  
Were I to choose, your joining one for me.  Bel. 
Your Father stays to bring you on the way.  
Farewell. The great commander of the war  
Prosper the course you undertake. Farewell.  Charl. 
My Lord! I humbly take my leave— madam!  
I kiss your hand.— And your sweet lip.— Farewell.  Manent Charlemont and Languebeau. 
Her power to speak is perished in her tears.  
Something within me would persuade my stay,  
But Reputation will not yield unto 't.  
Dear Sir, you are the man whose honest trust  
My confidence hath chosen for my friend.  
I fear my absence will discomfort her.  
You have the power and opportunity  
To moderate her passion. Let her grief  
Receive that friendship from you; and your Love  
Shall not repent itself of courtesy.  Lang. 
Sir, I want words and protestation to insinuate into your credit; but in plainness and truth, I will qualify her grief with the spirit of consolation.  Charl. 
Sir, I will take your friendship up at use.  
And fear not that your profit shall be small;  
Your interest shall exceed your principal.  Exit Charl. Enter D'amville and Borachio. D'am. 
monsieur Languebeau! Happily encountered. The honesty of your conversation, makes me request more interest in your familiarity.  Lang. 
If your Lordship will be pleased to salute me without ceremony, I shall be willing to exchange my service for your favour; but this worshipping kind of entertainment, is a superstitious vanity; in plainness and truth I love it not.  D'am. 
I embrace your disposition; and desire to give you as liberal assurance of my love, as my Lord Belforest your deserved favourer.  Lan. 
His Lordship is pleased with my plainness and truth of conversation.  D'am. 
It cannot displease him. In the behaviour of his noble daughter Castabella; a man may read her worth and your instruction.  Lang. 
That Gentlewoman is most sweetly modest, fair, honest, handsome, wise, well-born, and rich.  D'am. 
You have given me her picture in small.  Lang. 
she's like your Diamond; a temptation in every man's eye, yet not yielding to any light impression herself.  D'am. 
The praise is hers; but the comparison your own.  Gives him the Ring. Lan. 
You shall forgive me that, Sir.  D'am. 
I will not do so much at your request as forgive you it. I will only give you it Sir. By— You will make me swear.  Lan. 
O! by no means. Profane not your lips with the foulness of that sin. I will rather take it. To save your oath, you shall lose your Ring.— Verily my Lord; my praise came short of her worth. she exceeds a jewel. This is but only for ornament; She both for ornament and use.  D'am. 
Yet unprofitably kept without use. she deserves a worthy Husband, Sir. I have often wished a match between my elder Son and her. The marriage would join the houses of Belforest and Damville into a noble alliance.  Lan. 
And the unity of Families is a work of love and charity.  D'am. 
And that work an employment well becoming the goodness of your disposition.  Lan. 
If your Lordship please to impose it upon me; I will carry it without any second end, the surest way to satisfy your wish.  D'am. 
Most joyfully accepted.— Rousard! Here are Letters to my Lord Belforest touching my desire to that purpose.  Enter Rousard sickly. Rousard! 
I send you a suitor to Castabella. To this Gentleman's discretion I commit the managing of your suit His good success shall be most thankful to your trust. Follow his instructions, he will be your leader.  Lan. 
In plainness and truth.  Rous. 
My leader? does your Lordship think me too weak to give the onset myself.  Lan. 
I will only assist your proceedings.  Rous. 
To say true, so I think you had need, for a sick man can hardly get a woman's good will without help.  Lan. 
Charlemont! thy gratuity and my promises were both but words; and both like words shall vanish into air.— For thy poor empty hand I must be mute:  
This gives me feeling of a better suit.  Exeunt Languebeau and Rousard. D'am. 
Borachio! didst precisely note this man?  Bor. 
His own profession would report him pure.  D'am. 
And seems to know if any benefit,  
Arises of religion after death;  
Yet but compare's profession with his life;  
They so directly contradict themselves,  
As if the end of his instructions were  
But to divert the world from sin, that he  
More easily might engross it to himself.  
By that I am confirmed an Atheist.  
Well! Charlemont is gone. And here thou seest,  
His absence the foundation of my plot.  Bor. 
He is the man whom Castabella loves.  D'am. 
That was the reason I propounded him  
Employment fixed upon a foreign place,  
To draw his inclination out o'th' way.  Bor. 
'thas left the passage of our practice free.  D'am 
This Castabella is a wealthy heir,  
And by her marriage with my elder Son;  
My house is honoured, and my state increased.  
This work alone deserves my industry:  
But if it prosper, thou shalt see my brain  
Make this but an induction to a point  
So full of profitable policy;  
That it would make the soul of honesty  
Ambitious to turn villain.  Bor. 
I bespeak  
Employment in't. I'll be an instrument  
To grace performance with dexterity.  D'am. 
Thou shalt. No man shall rob thee of the honour.  
Go presently and buy a crimson Scarf,  
Like Charlemont's. Prepare thee a disguise,  
i'th' habit of a Soldier, hurt and lame;  
And then be ready at the wedding feast,  
Where thou shalt have employment in a work  
Will please thy disposition.  Bor. 
As I vowed;  
Your instrument shall make your project proud.  D'am. 
This marriage will bring wealth. If that succeed,  
I will increase it though my Brother bleed.  Exeunt. Enter Castabella avoiding the importunity of Rousard. Casta. 
Nay good Sir; in troth if you knew how little it pleases me, you would forbear it.  Rous. 
I will not leave thee, till thoust entertained me for thy servant.  Casta. 
My servant? You are sick you say. You would tax me of indiscretion to entertain one that is not able to do me service.  Rous. 
The service of a Gentlewoman consists most in chamber work, and sick men are fittest for the chamber. I prithee give me a favour.  Casta. 
methinks you have a very sweet favour of you own.  Rous. 
I lack but your black eye.  Casta. 
If you go to buffets among the Boys, they'll give you one.  Rous. 
Nay if you grow bitter, I'll dispraise your black eye. The grey eyed Morning makes the fairest day.  Casta. 
Now that you dissemble not, I could be willing to give you a favour. What favour would you have?  Rous. 
Any toy: any light thing.  Casta. 
Fie. Will you be so uncivil to ask a light thing at a Gentlewoman's hand?  Rous. 
Wilt give me a bracelet o'thy hair then?  Casta. 
Do you want hair Sir?  Rous. 
No faith I'll want no hair, so long as I can have it for money.  Casta. 
What would you do with my hair then?  Rous. 
Wear it for thy sake sweet heart.  Casta. 
Do you think I love to have my hair worn off?  Rous. 
Come you are so witty now, and so sensible.  Kisses her. Casta. 
Tush. I would I wanted one o'my senses now.  Rous. 
Bitter again? What's that? Smelling?  Casta 
No, no, no. Why now you're satisfied I hope. I have given you a favour.  Rous. 
What favour? a kiss? I prithee give me another.  Casta. 
Show me that I gave you then.  Rous. 
How should I show it?  Casta. 
You are unworthy of a favour if you will not bestow the keeping of it one minute.  Rous. 
Well in plain terms, dost love me? That's the purpose of my coming.  Casta. 
Love you? Yes Very well.  Rous. 
Give me thy hand upon't.  Casta. 
Nay, you mistake me. If I love you very well, I must not love you now. For now you are not very well, you're sick.  Rous. 
This Equivocation is for the jest now.  Casta. 
I speak't as 'tis now in fashion, in earnest. But I shall not be in quiet for you I perceive, till I have given you a favour. Do you love me?  Rous. 
With all my heart.  Casta. 
Then with all my heart, I'll give you a jewel to hang in your ear,— Hark ye— I can never love you.  Exit. Rous. 
Call you this a jewel to hang in mine ear? 'tis no light favour, for I'll be sworn it comes somewhat heavily to me. Well. I will not leave her for all this. methinks it animates a man to stand to't, when a woman desires to be rid of him at the first sight.  Exit. Enter Belforest and Languebeau snuff. Bel. 
I entertain the offer of this match;  
With purpose to confirm it presently.  
I have already moved it to my daughter;  
Her soft excuses savoured at the first  
( methought) but of a modest innocence  
Of blood; whose unmoved stream was never drawn  
Into the current of affection. But when I  
Replied with more familiar arguments,  
Thinking to make her apprehension bold;  
Her modest blush fell to a pale dislike,  
And she refused it with such confidence,  
As if she had been prompted by a love  
Inclining firmly to some other man,  
And in that obstinacy she remains.  Lan. 
Verily that disobedience doth not become a Child. It proceedeth from an unsanctified liberty. You will be accessary to your own dishonour if you suffer it.  Bel. 
Your honest wisdom has advised me well.  
Once more I'll move her by persuasive means.  
If she resist; all mildness set apart,  
I will make use of my authority.  Lan. 
And instantly, lest fearing your constraint; her contrary affection teach her some devise that may prevent you.  Bel. 
To cut off every opportunity,  
Procrastination may assist her with;  
This instant night she shall be married.  Lan. 
Best.  Enter Castabella. Casta. 
Please it your Lordship, my mother attends  
I'th' Gallery, and desires your conference.  Exit Belforest. 
This means I used to bring me to your ear.  
Time cuts off circumstance; I must be brief.  
To your integrity did Charlemont  
Commit the contract of his love and mine.  
Which now so strong a hand seeks to divide:  
That if your grave advise assist me not,  
I shall be forced to violate my faith.  Lan. 
Since Charlemont's absence, I have weighed his love with the spirit of consideration; and in sincerity I find it to be frivolous and vain. Withdraw your respect; his affection deserveth it not.  Casta. 
Good sir; I know your heart cannot profane  
The holiness you make profession of;  
With such a vicious purpose, as to break  
The vow, your own consent did help to make.  Lan. 
Can he deserve your love, who in neglect of your delightful conversation; and in obstinate contempt of all your prayers and tears; absents himself so far from your sweet fellowship, and with a purpose so contracted to that absence, that you see he purchases your separation with the hazard of his blood and life; fearing to want pretence to part your companies?— 'tis rather hate that doth division move; Love still desires the presence of his Love.— Verily, he is not of the Family of Love.  Casta. 
O do not wrong him. 'tis a generous mind  
That led his disposition to the war:  
For gentle love and noble courage are  
So near allied; that one begets another:  
Or, Love is Sister, and Courage is the Brother.  
Could I affect him better than before,  
His soldiers heart would make me love him more.  Lan. 
But Castabella.—  Enter Levidulcia. Leu. 
Tush, you mistake the way into a woman,  
The passage lies not through her reason, but her blood.  Exit Languebeau, Castabella about to follow. 
Nay, stay! How wouldst thou call the child,  
That being raised with cost and tenderness,  
To full ability of body and means;  
Denies relief unto the parents, who  
Bestowed that bringing up?  Casta. 
Unnatural.  Leu. 
Then Castabella is unnatural.  
Nature the loving mother of us all,  
Brought forth a woman for her own relief;  
By generation to revive her age.  
Which now thou hast ability and means  
Presented; most unkindly dost deny.  Casta. 
Believe me Mother; I do love a man.  Leu. 
Preferrest th' affection of an absent Love,  
Before the sweet possession of a man;  
The barren mind before the fruitful body;  
Where our creation has no reference  
To man; but in his body: being made  
Only for generation; which (unless  
Our children can be gotten by conceit)  
Must from the body come. If Reason were  
Our counsellor, we would neglect the work  
Of generation, for the prodigal  
Expense it draws us too of that which is  
The wealth of life. Wise Nature (therefore) hath  
Reserved for an inducement to our sense,  
Our greatest pleasure in that greatest work.  
Which being offered thee; thy ignorance  
Refuses, for th'imaginary joy  
Of an unsatisfied affection, to  
An absent man. Whose blood once spent i'th' war;  
Then he'll come home, sick, lame and impotent;  
And wed thee to a torment; like the pain  
Of Tantalus, continuing thy desire,  
With fruitless presentation of the thing  
It loves; still moved, and still unsatisfied.  Enter Belforest, Da'mville, Rousard, Sebastian, Languebeau, etc. Bel. 
Now Levidulcia! Hast thou yet prepared  
My daughter's love to entertain this Man?  
Her husband here?  Leu. 
I'm but her mother in-law;  
Yet if she were my very flesh and blood,  
I could advise no better for good.  Rous. 
Sweet wife! Thy joyful husband thus salutes Thy cheek.  Casta. 
My husband? O! I am betrayed.—  
Dear friend of Charlemont! your purity  
Professes a divine contempt o'th' world;  
O be not bribed by that you so neglect,  
In being the world's hated instrument,  
To bring a just neglect upon yourself!—  Kneel from one to another. 
Dear Father! let me but examine my  
Affection.— Sir, your prudent judgement can  
Persuade your son that 'tis improvident  
To marry one whose disposition, he  
Did ne'er observe.— Good sir, I may be of  
A nature so unpleasing to your mind;  
Perhaps you'll curse the fatal hour wherein  
You rashly married me.  D'am. 
My Lord Belforest!  
I would not have her forced against her choice.  Bel. 
Passion o'me thou peevish girl. I charge  
Thee by my blessing, and th'authority  
I have to claim th'obedience; marry him.  Casta. 
Now Charlemont! O my presaging tears!  
This sad event hath followed my sad fears.  Seba. 
A rape, a rape, a rape!  Bel. 
How now?  D'am. 
What's that?  Seba. 
Why what is't but a Rape to force a wench to marry, since it forces her to lie with him she would not?  Lan. 
Verily, his Tongue is an unsanctified member.  Seba. 
Verily, your gravity becomes your perished soul, as hoary mouldiness does rotten fruit.  Bel. 
Cousin, you're both uncivil and profane.  D'am. 
Thou disobedient villain; get thee out of my sight. Now by my Soul I'll plague thee for this rudeness.  Bel. 
Come; set forward to the Church.  Exeunt. Manet Sebastian. Seba. 
And verify the Proverb. The nearer the Church; the further from God.— Poor wench. For thy sake, may his ability die in his appetite; that thou be'st not troubled with him thou lovest not. May his appetite move thy desire to another man: so he shall help to make himself Cuckold. And let that man be one that he pays wages too: so thou shalt profit by him thou hatest. Let the Chambers be matted, the hinges oiled, the curtain rings silenced, and the chambermaid hold her peace at his own request, that he may sleep the quietlier. And in that sleep let him be soundly cuckolded. And when he knows it, and seeks to sue a divorce; let him have no other satisfaction than this: He lay by and slept: the Law will take no hold of her, because he winked at it.  Exit.  

Actus secundi Scena prima.  Music. A banquet. In the night. Enter D'amville, Belforest, Levidulcia, Rousard, Castabella, Languebeau snuff, at one door. At the other door, Cataplasma and Soquette, ushered by Fresco. Levidulcia. 
mistress Cataplasma! I expected you an hour since.  Cata. 
Certain Ladies at my house (madam) detained me; otherwise I had attended your Ladyship sooner.  Leu. 
we are beholding to you for you company. My Lord; I pray you bid these Gentlewomen welcome: theyare my invited friends.  D'am. 
Gentlewomen, you're welcome, pray sit down.  Leu. 
Frisco! by my Lord D'amville's leave I prithee go into the Buttery. Thou shalt find some o'my men there; if they bid thee not welcome, they are very Loggerheads.  Fres. 
If your Loggerheads will not, your Hogsheads shall madam, if I get into the Buttery.  Exit. D'am. 
That fellows disposition to mirth should be our present example. Let's be grave and meditate, when our affairs require our seriousness. 'tis out of season to be heavily disposed.  Len. 
We should be all wound up into the key of Mirth.  D'am. 
The Music there.  Bel. 
Where's my Lord Montferrers? Tell him here's a room attends him.  Enter Montferrers. Mont. 
Heaven give your marriage that I am deprived of, joy.  D'am. 
My Lord Belforest! Castabella's health. D'amville drinks. Set open 'the cellar doors, and let this health go freely round the house.— Another to your Son, my Lord; To noble Charlemont. He is a Soldier. Let the Instruments of wary congratulate his memory.—  Drums and Trumpets. Enter a Servant. Ser. 
My Lord, here's one i'th' habit of a Soldier says he is newly returned from Ostend, and has some business of import to speak.  D'am. 
Ostend! let him come in. My soul foretells he brings the news will make our Music full. My brother's joy would do't: and here comes he will raise it.  Enter Borachio disguised. Mont. 
O my spirit, it does dissuade my tongue to question him, as if it knew his answer would displease.  D'am. 
Soldier! what news? we heard a rumour of a blow you gave the enemy.  Bor 
'tis very true my Lord.  Bel. 
Canst thou relate it.  Bor. 
Yes.  D'am. 
I Prithee do.  Bor. 
The enemy, defeated of a fair  
Advantage by a flattering stratagem;  
Plants all th' Artillery against the Town.  
Whose thunder and lightning made our bulwarks shake;  
And threatened in that terrible report,  
The storm wherewith they meant to second it.  
Th'assault was general. But for the place  
That promised most advantage to be forced;  
The pride of all their Army was drawn forth,  
And equally divided into Front,  
And Rear. They marched. And coming to a stand,  
Ready to pass our Channel at an ebb,  
W'advised it for our safest course, to draw  
Our sluices up and make't unpassable.  
Our Governor opposed; and suffered'em  
To charge us home e'en to the rampires foot.  
But when their front was forcing up our breach,  
At push o'pike, then did his policy  
Let go the sluices, and tripped up the heels  
Of the whole body of their troop, that stood  
Within the violent current of the stream.  
Their front beleaguered twixt the water and  
The Town; seeing the flood was grown too deep,  
To promise them a safe retreat; exposed  
The force of all their spirits, (like the last  
Expiring gasp of a strong hearted man)  
Upon the hazard of one charge; but were  
Oppressed and fell. The rest that could not swim,  
Were only drowned; but those that thought to scape  
By swimming, were by murderers that flankerd,  
The level of the flood both drowned and slain.  D'am. 
Now by my soul (Soldier) a brave service.  Mont. 
O what became of my dear Charlemont?  Bor. 
Walking next day upon the fatal shore,  
Among the slaughtered bodies of their men,  
Which the full-stomached Sea had cast upon  
The sands, it was m'unhappy chance to light  
Upon a face, whose favour when it lived  
My astonished mind informed me I had seen.  
He lay in's Armour; as if that had been  
His Coffin, and the weeping Sea (like one;  
Whose milder temper doth lament the death  
Of him whom in his rage he slew) runs up  
The Shore; embraces him; kisses his cheek,  
Goes back again and forces up the Sands  
To bury him; and every time it parts,  
Sheds tears upon him; till at last (as if  
It could no longer endure to see the man  
Whom it had slain, yet loath to leave him;) with  
A kind of unresolved unwilling pace,  
Winding her waves one in another, like  
A man that folds his arms, or wrings his hands  
For grief; ebbed from the body and descends:  
As if it would sink down into the earth,  
And hide itself for shame of such a deed.  D'am. 
And Soldier; who was this?  Mont. 
O Charlemont!  Bor. 
Your fear hath told you that whereof my grief  
Was loath to be the messenger.  Casta. 
O God.  Exit Castabella. D'am. 
Charlemont drowned? Why how could that be? since it was the adverse party that received the overthrow.  Bor. 
His forward spirit pressed into the front;  
And being engaged within the enemy,  
When they retreated through the rising stream;  
I'the violent confusion of the throng  
Was overborne and perished in the flood.  
And here's the sad remembrance of his life,— The Scarf.  
Which for his sake I will for ever wear.  Mont. 
Torment me not with witnesses of that,  
Which I desire, not to believe; yet must.  D'am. 
Thou art a screechowl; and dost come i'night  
To be the cursed messenger of death.  
Away. Depart my house; or (by my soul)  
You'll find me a more fatal enemy,  
Then ever was Ostend. Be gone. Dispatch.  Bor. 
Sir 'twas my love.  D'am. 
Your love to vex my heart with that I hate?  
Hark, do you hear? you, knave?—  
O thouart a most delicate sweet eloquent villain!  Bor. 
Was't not well counterfeited?  D'am. 
Rarely.— Be gone. I will not here reply.  Bor. 
Why then farewell. I will not trouble you.  Exit. D'am. 
So. The foundation's laid. Now by degrees,  
The work will rise and soon be perfected.  
O this uncertain state of mortal man!  Bel. 
What then? it is th'inevitable fate  
Of all things underneath the Moon.  D'am. 
'tis true.  
Brother for health's sake overcome your grief.  Mont. 
I cannot sir. I am uncapable  
Of comfort. My turn will be next. I feel  
myself not well.  D'am. 
You yield too much to grief.  Lang. 
All men are mortal. The hour of death is uncertain. Age makes sickness the more dangerous. And grief is subject to distraction. You know not how soon you may be deprived of the benefit of sense. In my understanding (therefore) you shall do well if you be sick to set your state in present order. Make your Will.  D'am. 
I have my wish.— Lights for my brother.  Mont. 
I'll withdraw a while;  
And crave the honest counsel of this man.  Bel. 
With all my heart. I pray attend him sir.  Exeunt Montferrers and snuff. 
This next room please your Lordship.  D'am. 
Where you will.  Exeunt Belforest and D'amville. Leuid. 
My Daughter's gone. Come Son. Mistress Cataplasma, come; we'll up into her chamber. I'd fain see how she entertains the expectation of her husband's bedfellowship.  Rou. 
i'faith howsoever she entertains it; I shall hardly please her; therefore let her rest.  Levid. 
Nay, please her hardly and you please her best.  Exeunt. Enter 3. servants drank, drawing in Fresco. 1 Ser. 
Boy! fill some drink Boy.  Fresco. 
Enough good Sir; not a drop more by this light.  2. 
Not by this light? Why then put out the candles and we'll drink i'the dark and t'wut old Boy.  Fres. 
No, no, no, no, no.  3. 
Why then take thy liquor. A health Fresco.  Kneel. Fres. 
Your health will make me sick sir.  1. 
Then 'twill bring you o'your knees I hope sir.  Fres. 
May I not stand and pledge it sir?  2. 
I hope you will do as we do.  Fres. 
Nay then indeed I must not stand, for you cannot.  3. 
Well said old boy.  Fres. 
Old boy, you'll make me a young child anon: for if I continue this, I shall scarce be able to go alone.  1. 
My body is as weak as water, Fresco.  Fres. 
Good reason sir, the beer has sent all the malt up into your brain, and left nothing but the water in your body.  Enter D'amville and Borachio closely observing their drunkenness. D'am. 
Borachio! seest those fellows?  Bor. 
Yes my Lord.  D'am. 
Their drunkenness that seems ridiculous,  
Shall be a serious instrument, to bring  
Our sober purposes to their success.  Bor. 
I am prepared for th'execution, sir.  D'am. 
Cast off this habit, and about it straight.  Bor. 
Let them drink healths, & drown their brains i'the flood; I'll promise them they shall be pledged in blood.  Exit. 1. 
You ha'left a damnable snuff here.  2. 
Do you take that in snuff Sir?  1. 
You are a damnable rogue then.—  together by th'ears. D'am. 
Fortune I honour thee. My plot still rises, According to the model of mine own desires.— Lights for my Brother.— What ha'you drunk yourselves mad you knaves.  1. 
My Lord the jacks abused me.  D'am. 
I think they are the jacks indeed that have abused thee, Dost hear? that fellow is a proud knave. He has abused thee. As thou goest over the fields by and by, in lighting my brother home, I'll tell thee what' shalt do. Knock him over the pate with thy torch, I'll bear the out in't.  2. 
I will singe the goose by this torch.  Exit. D'am. 
Dost hear; fellow. Seest thou that proud knave, I have given him a lesson for his sauciness. H'as wronged thee. I'll tell thee what' shalt do: As we go over the fields by and by, clap him suddenly o'er the coxcomb with thy torch, I'll bear thee out in't.  2. 
I will make him understand as much.  Exit. Enter Languebeau snuff. D'am. 
Now monsieur Snuff! What has my brother done?  Lan. 
Made his Will; and by that Will made you his heir; with this proviso, that as occasion shall hereafter move him; he may revoke or alter it when he pleases.  D'am. 
Yes. Let him if he can.— I'll make it sure from his revoking.  Aside. Enter Montferrers and Belforest, attended with lights. Mont. 
Brother now good night.  D'am. 
The sky is dark, we'll bring you o'er the fields.  
Who can but strike, wants wisdom to maintain:  
He that strikes safe and sure, has heart and brain.  Exeunt. Enter Castabella alone. Casta. 
O Love! thou chaste affection of the Soul,  
Without th'adulterate mixture of the blood;  
That virtue which to goodness addeth good:  
The minion of heavens heart. Heaven! is't my fate  
For loving that thou lov'st to get thy hate?  
Or was my Charlemont thy chosen Love?  
And therefore hast received him to thyself?  
Then I confess thy anger's not unjust.  
I was thy rival Yet to be divorced  
From love, has been a punishment enough.  
(Sweet heaven) without being married unto hate,  
Hadst thou been pleased: O double misery!  
Yet since thy pleasure hath inflicted it,  
If not my heart, my duty shall submit.  Enter Levidulcia, Rousard, Cateplasma, Soquerte, and Fresco with a lantern. Leu. 
Mistress Cataplasma, good night. I pray when your Man has brought you home, let him return and light me to my house.  Cata. 
He shall instantly wait on your Ladyship.  Leu. 
Good Mistress Cataplasma; for my servants are all drunk; I cannot be beholding to'em for their attendance. Exeunt Cataplasma, Soquette, and Fresco .O here's your Bride.  Rous. 
And melancholic too, methinks.  Leu. 
How can she choose? your sickness will  
Distaste th'expected sweetness o'the night.  
That makes her heavy.  Rou. 
That should make her light.  Leu. 
Look you to that.  Casta. 
What sweetness speak you of?  
The sweetness of the night consists in rest.  Rou. 
With that sweetness thou shalt be surely blessed,  
Unless my groaning wake thee. Do not moan.  Leu. 
she'd rather you would wake, and make her groan.  Rou. 
Nay 'troth sweet heart, I will not trouble thee.  
Thou shalt not lose thy maidenhead too night.  Casta. 
O might that weakness ever be in force;  
I never would desire to sue divorce!  Rou. 
Wilt go to bed.  Casta. 
I will attend you, Sir.  Rou. 
Mother, good night.  Leu. 
Pleasure be your bedfellow.  Exeunt Rousard and Castabella. 
Why sure their Generation was asleep,  
When she begot those Dormice; that she made  
Them up so weakly and imperfectly.  
One wants desire; the other ability.  
When my affection even with their cold bloods  
(As snow rubbed through an active hand, does make  
The flesh to burn) by agitation is  
Inflamed. I could unbrace, and entertain  
The air to cool it.  Enter Sebastian. Seba. 
That but mitigates  
The heat; rather embrace and entertain  
A younger brother; he can quench the fire.  Leu. 
Can you so, sir? now I beshrew your ear.  
Why bold Sebastian, how dare you approach  
So near the presence of your displeased Father.  Seba. 
Under the protection of his present absence.  Leu. 
Belike you knew he was abroad then.  Seba. 
Yes.  
Let me encounter you so; I'll persuade  
Your means to reconcile me to his love.  Leu. 
Is that the way? I understand you not.  
But for your reconcilement, meet m'at home;  
I'll satisfy your suit  Seba. 
Within this half hour?  Exit Sebastian. Leu. 
Or within this whole hour. When you will.— A lusty blood! has both the presence and the spirit of a man. I like the freedom of his behaviour.— Ho— Sebastian! Gone?— Has set my blood a-boiling i'my veins And now (like water poured upon the ground, that mixes itself with every moisture it meets) I could clasp with any man. Enter Fresco with a lantern .O Fresco! Art thou come? If other fail, than thou art entertained.  
Lust is a Spirit, which whosoever doth raise;  
The next man that encounters boldly, lays.  Exeunt. Enter Borachio warily and hastily over the Stage, with a stone in either hand. Bor. 
Such stones men use to raise a house upon;  
But with these stones I go to ruin one.  Descends. Enter two Servants drunk fighting with their torches, D'amville, Montferrers, Belforest, and Languebeau snuff. Bel. 
Passion o'me you drunken knaves: you'll put the lights out.  D'am. 
No my Lord; theyare but in jest.  1. 
Mine's out.  D'am. 
Then light it at his head, that's light enough.— fore-god, theyare out. You drunken Rascals back and light'em.  Bel. 
'tis exceeding dark.  Exeunt Servants. D'am. 
No matter. I am acquainted with the way. Your hand. Let's easily walk. I'll lead you till they come.  Mont. 
My soul's oppressed with grief. t'lies heavy at my heart, O my departed Son! ere long I shall be with thee  D'amville thrusts him down into the gravel pit. D'am. 
Marry God forbid.  Mont. 
O, o, o.  D'am. 
Now all the host of heaven forbid. knaves, Rogues.  Bel. 
Pray God he be not hurt! her's fallen into the gravel pit.  D'am. 
Brother! dear Brother! Rascals, villains, knaves. Enter the Servants with lights .Eternal darkness damn you; come away. Go round about into the gravel pit, and help my Brother up. Why what a strange unlucky night is this? Is't not my Lord? I think that Dog that howled the news of grief, that fatal screechowl ushered on this mischiefs.  Enter with the murdered body. Lan. 
Mischief indeed my Lord. Your Brother's dead.  Bel. 
he's dead.  Ser. 
he's dead.  D'am. 
Dead be your tongues. Drop out mine eyeballs, and let envious Fortune play at tennis with'em. Have I lived to this? Malicious Nature! hadst thou borne me blind; thou'dst yet been something favourable to me. No breath? No motion? prithee tell me heaven! hast shut thine eye to wink at murder; or hast put this sable garment on, to mourn at's death? Not one poor spark in the whole spacious sky, of all that endless number would vouchsafe to shine? You viceroys to the King of nature! whose constellations govern mortal births; where is that fatal Planet ruled at his Nativity? That might ha' pleased to light him out, as well into th'world; unless it be ashamed To have been the instrument of such a good man's cursed destiny.—  Belf. 
Passions transports you. Recollect yourself.  
Lament him not. Whether our deaths be good  
Or bad; it is not death but life that tries;  
He lived well, (therefore) questionless, well dies.  D'am. 
I. 'tis an easy thing for him that has no pain to talk of patience. Do you think that Nature has no feeling?  Belf. 
Feeling? Yes. But has she purposed any thing for nothing? What good receives this body by your grief? Whether is't more unnatural not to grieve for him you cannot help with it; or hurt yourself with grieving and yet grieve in vain?  D'am. 
Indeed had he been taken from me like a piece o'dead flesh, I should neither ha' felt it, nor grieved for't. But come hither, pray look here. Behold the lively tincture of his blood! Neither the Dropsy nor the jaundice in't. But the true freshness of a sanguine red; for all the fog of this black murderous night has mixed with it. For any thing I know, he might ha' lived till doomsday, and ha' done more good than either you or I. O Brother! He was a man of such a native goodness; as if Regeneration had been given him in his mother's womb. So harmless, that rather than ha' trod upon a worm, he would ha' shunned the way. So dearly pitiful, that e'er the poor could ask his charity with dry eyes, he gave 'em relief wi' tearestears— with tears— yes faith with tears.  Belf. 
Take up the Corpse. For wisdom's sake let reason fortify this weakness.  D'am. 
Why what would you ha' me do? Foolish Nature will have her course in spite o'wisdom. But I have e'en done. All these words were but a great wind, and now this shower of tears has laid it, I am calm again. You may set forward when you will. I'll follow you, like one that must and would not.  Lang. 
Our opposition will but trouble him.  Belf. 
The grief that melts to tears, by itself is spent, Passion resisted, grows more violent.  Exeunt. Manet D'amville. Borachio ascends. D'am. 
Here's a sweet Comedy. T'begins with O dolentis, and concludes with ha, ha, he.  Bor. 
Ha, ha, he.  D'am. 
O my echo! I could stand reverberating this sweet musical air of joy, till I had perished my sound lungs with violent laughter. Lovely Night-Raven! thoust seized a carcase.  Bor. 
Put him out on's pain. I lay so fitly underneath the bank from whence he fell; that e'er his faltering tongue could utter double Oo; I knocked out's brains with this fair Ruby. And had another stone just of this form and bigness ready: that I laid i'the broken skull upo'the ground for's pillow; against the which they thought he fell and perished.  D'am. 
Upon this ground I'll build my Manor-house;  
And this shall be the chiefest corner stone.  Bor. 
'thas crowned the most judicious murder, that  
The brain of man was e'er delivered of.  D'am. 
I. Mark the plot. Not any circumstance  
That stood within the reach of the design,  
Of persons, dispositions, matter, time or place,  
But by this brain of mine, was made  
An Instrumental help; yet nothing from  
Th'induction to th'accomplishment seemed forced,  
Or done o'purpose, but by accident.  Bor. 
First, my report that Charlemont was dead,  
Though false; yet covered with a mask of truth.  D'am. 
ay, and delivered in as fit a time.  
When all our minds so wholly were possessed  
With one affair, that no man would suspect  
A thought employed for any second end.  Bor. 
Then the Precisian to be ready, when  
Your brother spoke of death, to move his Will.  D'am. 
His business called him thither; and it fell  
Within his office; unrequested to't.  
From him it came religiously; and saved  
Our project from suspicion: which if I  
Had moved had been endangered.  Bor. 
Then your healths.  
Though seeming but the ordinary rites,  
And ceremonies due to festivals:—  D'am. 
Yet used by me to make the servants drunk.  
An instrument the plot could not have missed.  
'twas easy to set drunkards by the ears:  
they'd nothing but their torches to fight with;  
And when those lights were out;  Bor. 
Then darkness did  
Protect the execution of the work,  
Both from prevention and discovery.  D'am. 
Here was a murder bravely carried, through  
The eye of observation, unobserved.  Bor. 
And those that saw the passage of it, made  
The Instruments yet knew not what they did.  D'am. 
That power of rule Philosophers ascribe  
To him they call the supreme of the Stars;  
Making their influences governors  
Of Sublunary Creatures; when their selves  
Are senseless of their operations.  Thunder and Lightning. 
What! Dost start at thunder? Credit my belief, 'tis a mere effect of nature. An exhalation hot and dry, involved within a watery vapour i'the middle religion of the air. Whose coldness congealing that thick moisture to a cloud: the angry exhalation shut within a prison of contrary quality, strives to be free; and with the violent eruption through the grossness of that cloud; makes this noise we hear.  Bor. 
'tis a fearful noise.  D'am. 
'tis a brave noise. And methinks graces our accomplished project, as a peal of Ordnance does a triumph. It speaks encouragement. Now Nature shows thee how it savoured our performance; to forbear this noise when we set forth, because it should not terrify my brothers going home; which would have dashed our purpose: To forbear this lightning in our passage, lest it should ha' warned him o'the pitfall. Then propitious Nature winked at our proceedings; now it doth express, how that forbearance favoured our success.  Bor. 
You have confirmed me. For it follows well;  
That Nature (since herself decay doth hate)  
Should favour those that strengthen their estate.  D'am. 
Our next endeavour is; since on the false report that Charlemont is dead, depends the fabric of the work; to credit that with all the countenance we can.  Bor. 
Faith Sir, even let his own inheritance, whereof you'ave dispossessed him, countenance the act. Spare so much out of that, to give him a solemnity of funeral. 'twill quit the cost; and make your apprehension of his death appear more confident and true.  D'am. 
I'll take thy counsel. Now farewell black night;  
Thou beauteous Mistress of a murderer:  
To honour thee, that hast accomplished all;  
I'll wear thy colours at his funeral.  Exeunt. Enter Levidulcia into her chamber maned by Fresco. Leu. 
thouart welcome into my chamber; Fresco. Prithee shut the door.— Nay thou mistakest me. Come in and shut it.  Fres. 
'tis somewhat late madam.  Leu. 
No matter. I have somewhat to say to thee. What? is not thy mistress towards a husband yet?  Fres. 
Faith madam, she has suitors. But they will not suit her methinks. They will not come off lustily it seems.  Leu. 
They will not come on lustily, thou wouldst say.  Fres. 
I mean (madam) they are not rich enough.  Leu. 
But I (Fresco) they are not bold enough. Thy Mistress is of a lively attractive blood Fresco. And in troth she's o'my mind for that. A poor spirit is poorer than a poor purse. Give me a fellow that brings not only temptation with him, but has the activity of wit, and audacity of spirit to apply every word and gesture of a woman's speech and behaviour to his own desire; and make her believe she's the suitor herself. Never give back till he has made her yield to 'it.  Fres. 
Indeed among our equals madam; but otherwise we shall be put horribly out o'countenance.  Leu. 
Thou art deceived, Fresco. ladies are as courteous as yeomen's wives, and methinks they should be more gentle. Hot diet and soft ease makes 'em (like wax always kept warm) more easy to take impression.— Prithee untie my shoe.— What? art thou shamefaced too? Go roundly to work man. My leg is not gouty: 'twill endure the feeling I warrant thee Come hither Fresco; thine ear.— 'sdainty; I mistook the place. I missed thine ear and hit thy lip.  Fres. 
Your Ladyship has made me blush.  Leu. 
That shows thouart full o'lusty blood and thou knowest not how to use it. Let me see thy hand. Thou shouldst not be shamefaced by thy hand, Fresco. Here's a brawny flesh and a hairy skin: both signs of an able body. I do not like these phlegmatic, smooth-skinned, soft-fleshed fellows. They are like candied Suckets, when they begin to perish; which I would always empty my Closet off, and give'em my chambermaid.— I have some skill in Palmistry: by this line that stands directly against me; thou shouldst be near a good fortune. Fresco, if thou hadst the grace to entertain it.  Fres. 
O what is that madam? I pray!  Leu. 
No less than the love of a fair Lady, if thou dost not lose her with faint-heartedness.  Fres. 
A Lady, madam? alas a Lady is a great thing, I cannot compass her.  Leu. 
No? Why? I am a Lady, Am I so great I cannot be compassed? Clasp my waist and try.  Fres. 
I could find i'my heart madam.  Sebastian knocks within. Leu. 
Uds body; my Husband! fainthearted fool! I think thou wert begotten between the North-pole, and the congealed passage. Now like an ambitious Coward that betrays himself with fearful delay: you must suffer for the treason you never committed. Go hide thyself behind yond arras, instantly. Fresco hides himself Enter Sebastian .Sebastian! What do you here so late?  Seba. 
Nothing yet; but I hope I shall.—  Kisses her. Leu. 
You're very bold.  Seba. 
And you very valiant; for you met me at full Career.  Leu. 
You come to ha'me move your father's reconciliation. I'll write a word or two i'your behalf.  Seba 
A word or two, madam? that you do for me, will not be contained in less than the compass of two sheets. But in plain terms, shall we take the opportunity of privateness?  Leu. 
What to do?  Seba. 
To dance the beginning of the world after the English manner.  Leu. 
Why not after the French or Italian?  Seba. 
Fie. They dance it preposterously; backward.  Leu. 
Are you so active to dance?  Seba. 
I can shake my heels.  Leu. 
You're well made for't.  Seba. 
Measure me from top to toe; you shall not find me differ much from the true standard of proportion.  Belforest knocks within. Leu. 
I think I am accursed. Sebastian! There's one at the door has beaten opportunity away from us. In brief, I love thee. And it shall not be long before I give thee a testimony of it. To save thee now from suspicion; do no more but draw thy Rapier; chase thyself; and when he comes in, rush by without taking notice of him. Only seem to be angry, and let me alone for the rest.  Enter Belforest. Seba. 
Now by the hand of mercury.  Exit Sebastian. Bel. 
What's the matter wife?  Leu. 
oh, oh, Husband!  Bel. 
Prithee what ail'st thou woman?  Leu. 
O feel my pulse. It beats I warrant you. Be patient a little sweet Husband; tarry but till my breath come to me again, and I'll satisfy you.  Bel. 
What ails Sebastian, he looks so distractedly?  Leu. 
The poor Gentleman's almost out on's wits I think. You remember the displeasure his Father took against him about the liberty of speech he used even now when your daughter went to be married.  Bel. 
Yes, what of that?  Leu. 
'thas crazed him sure: he met a poor man i'the street even now. upon what quarrel I know not: but he pursued him so violently, that if my house had not been his rescue; he had surely killed him.  Bel. 
What a strange desperate young man is that!  Leu. 
Nay husband, he grew so in rage when he saw the man was conveyed from him, that he was ready even to have drawn his naked weapon upon me. And had not your knocking at the door prevented him; surely he'd done something to me.  Bel. 
Where's the man?  Leu. 
Alas here. I warrant you the poor fearful soul is scarce come to himself again yet.— If the fool have any wit he will apprehend me.— Do you hear sir You may be bold to come forth; the Fury that haunted you is gone.  Fresco peeps fearfully forth from behind the Arras. Fres. 
Are you sure he is gone?  Bel. 
he's gone; he's gone, I warrant thee.  Fres. 
I would I were gone too. Has shook me almost into a dead palsy.  Bel. 
How fell the difference between you?  Fres. 
I would I were out at the back door.  Bel. 
thouart safe enough. Prithee tell's the falling out.  Fres. 
Yes sir, when I have recovered my spirits. My memory is almost frighted from me.— Oh so, so, so.— Why Sir, as I came along the street Sir;— this same Gentleman came stumbling after me, and trod o'my heel,— I cried O. Do you cry sirrah? says he. Let me see your heel; if it be not hurt, I'll make you cry for something. So he claps my head between his legs, and pulls off my shoe. I having shifted no socks in a sea 'night, the Gentleman cried foh; and said my feet were base and cowardly feet, they stunk for fear. Then he knocked my shoe about my pate, and I cried O, once more. In the mean time comes a shag. haired dog by, and rubs against his shins. The Gentleman took the dog in shag-hair to be some Watchman in a rug gown; and swore he would hang me up at the next door with my lantern in my hand, that passengers might see their way as they went without rubbing against gentlemen's shins. So, for want of a Cord. he took his own garters off; and as he was going to make a noose, I watched my time and ran away. And as I ran (indeed) I bid him hang himself in his own garters. So he in choler, pursued me hither as you see.  Bel. 
Why this savours of distraction.  Leu. 
Of mere distraction.  Fres. 
howsoever it savours, I am sure it smells like a lie.  Bael 
Thou mayst go forth at the back door (honest fellow) the way is private and safe.  Fres. 
So it had need, for your foredoor (here) is both common and dangerous.  Exit Belforest. Leu. 
Good night honest Fresco.  Fres. 
Good night madam; if you get me kissing o'Ladies again.—  Exit Fresco. Leu. 
This falls out handsomely.  
But yet the matter does not well succeed;  
Till I have brought it to the very deed.  Exit. Enter Charlemont in Arms, a Musquetier, and a Sergeant. Charl. 
Sergeant! what hour o'the night is't.  Ser. 
About one.  Charl. 
I would you would relieve me; for I am  
So heavy, that I shall ha'much ado;  
To stand out my perdu.  Thunder and Lightning. Ser. 
I'll e'en but walk  
The round (sir) and then presently return.  Soul. 
For God's sake Sergeant relieve me, above five hours together in so foul a stormy night as this?  Ser. 
Why 'tis a music Soldier. Heaven and earth are now in consort, when the Thunder and the Canon play one to another.  Exit Sergeant. Charl. 
I know not why I should be thus inclined to sleep, I feel my disposition pressed with a necessity of heaviness. Soldier! if thou hast any better eyes, I prithee wake me when the Sergeant comes.  Soul. 
Sir, 'tis so dark and stormy that I shall scarce either see or hear him e'er he comes upon me.  Charl. 
I cannot force myself to wake.—  Sleeps. Enter the ghost of Montferrers. Mont. 
Return to France; for thy old Father's dead;  
And thou by murder, disinherited.  
Attend with patience the success of things;  
But leave revenge unto the King of kings.  Exit. Charlemont arts and wakes. Charl. 
O my affrighted soul! what fearful dream  
Was this that waked me? Dreams are but the raised  
Impressions of premeditated things,  
By serious apprehension left upon  
Our minds, or else th'imaginary shapes  
Of objects proper to th' complexion, or  
The dispositions of our bodies. These  
Can neither of them be the cause, why I  
Should dream thus; for my mind has not been moved  
With any one conception of a thought  
To such a purpose; nor my nature wont  
To trouble me with fantasies of terror.  
It must be something that my Genius would  
Inform me of. Now gracious heaven forbid!  
O! let my Spirit be deprived of all  
Foresight and knowledge, ere it understand  
That vision acted; or divine that act  
To come. Why should I think so? Leave I not  
My worthy Father i'the kind regard  
Of a most loving Uncle? Soldier! sawst  
No apparition of a man?  Soul. 
You dream Sir; I saw nothing.  Charl. 
Tush. These idle dreams  
Are fabulous. Our boiling fantasies  
Like troubled waters falsify the shapes  
Of things retained in them; and make 'em seem  
Confounded, when they are distinguished, So  
My actions daily conversant with war;  
(The argument of blood and death) had left  
(Perhaps) th'imaginary presence of  
Some bloody accident upon my mind:  
Which mixed confusedly with other thoughts,  
(Whereof th'remembrance of my Father, might  
Be one) presented all together, seem  
Incorporate; as if his body were  
The owner of that blood, the subject of  
That death; when he's at Paris, and that blood  
Shed here. It may be thus. I would not leave  
The war, for reputation's sake, upon  
An idle apprehension; a vain dream.  Enter the Ghost. Soul. 
Stand. Stand, I say. No? Why then have at thee. Sir, if you will not stand, I'll make you fall? Nor stand, nor fall? Nay then the Devil's dam has broke her husband's head: for sure it is a Spirit, I shot it through, and yet it will not fall.  Exit. The Ghost approaches Charlemont. He fearfully avoids it. Char. 
O pardon me! my doubtful heart was slow  
To credit that which I did fear to know.  Exeunt.  

Actus tertii Scena prima.  Enter the Funeral of Montferrers. D'amville. 
SEt down the Body. Pay earth what she lent.  
But she shall bear a living monument,  
To let succeeding ages truly know.  
That she is satisfied, what he did owe:  
Both principal and use; because his worth  
Was better at his death then at his birth.  A dead march. Enter the Funeral of Charlemont as a Soldier. D'am. 
And with his Body, place that memory  
Of noble Charlemont his worthy Son.  
And give their Graves the rites that do belong  
To Soldiers. They were Soldiers both. The Father  
Held open war with Sin; the Son with blood:  
This in a war more gallant that more good.  The first volley. D'am. 
There place their Arms; and here their Epitaphs.  
And may these Lines survive the last of graves.  

The Epitaph of Montferrers.  
HEre lie the Ashes of that earth and fire;  
whose heat and fruit, dead feed and warm the poor:  
And they (as if they would in sighs expire,  
and into tears dissolve) his death deplore.  
He did that good freely for goodness sake,  
unforced: for generousness he held so dear,  
That he feared none but him that did him make,  
and yet he served him more for love then fear.  
So's life provided, that though he did die  
A death; yet died not suddenly.   

The Epitaph of Charlement.  
HIs Body lies interred within this would;  
Who died a young man, yet departed old.  
And in all strength of youth that Man can have,  
Was ready still to drop into his grave.  
For aged in virtue with a youthful eye,  
He welcomed it being still prepared to die;  
And living so, though young deprived of breath,  
He did not suffer an untimely death.  
But we may say of his brave blessed decease:  
He died in war; and yet he died in peace.   The second volley. D'am. 
O might that fire revive the ashes of  
This Phoenix! yet the wonder would not be  
So great as he was good; and wondered at  
For that. His lives example was so true  
A practic of Religion's Theory;  
That her Divinity seemed rather the  
Description than th'instruction of his life.  
And of his goodness, was his virtuous Son  
A worthy imitator. So that on  
These two Herculean pillars, where their arms  
Are placed; there may be writ, Non vltra. For  
Beyond their lives as well for youth as age;  
Nor young nor old, in merit or in name;  
Shall e'er exceed their virtues or their fame.  The third volley. 
'tis done. Thus fair accomplements, make foul  
Deeds gracious. Charlemont! come now when t'would.  
I've buried under these two marble stones.  
Thy living hopes; And thy dead father's bones.  Exeunt. Enter Castabella mourning to the monument of Charlemont. Casta. 
O thou that knowest me justly Charlemonts.  
Though in the forced possession of another;  
Since from thine own free spirit we receive it,  
That our affections cannot be compelled,  
Though 'our actions may; be not displeased, if on  
The altar of his Tomb, I sacrifice  
My tears. They are the jewels of my love  
Dissolved to grief: and fall upon  
His blasted Spring; as April dew, upon  
A sweet young blossom shaked before the time.  Enter Charlemont with a Servant. Charl. 
Go see my Trunks disposed of, I'll but walk  
A turn or two i'th' Church and follow you.  Exit Servant. 
O! here's the fatal monument of my  
Dead Father first presented to mine eye.  
What's here? in memory of Charlemont?  
Some false relation has abused belief.  
I am deluded. But I thank thee Heaven.  
For ever let me be deluded thus.  
My Castabella mourning o'er my Hearse?  
Sweet Castabella rise, I am not dead.  Casta. 
O heaven defend me.  Falls in a swoon. Charl. 
I Beshrew my rash  
And inconsiderate passion.— Castabella!  
That could not think— my Castabella!— that  
My sudden presence might affright her sense.—  
I prithee (my affection) pardon me.  she rises. 
Reduce thy understanding to thine eye.  
Within this habit which thy misinformed  
Conceit takes only for a shape; live both  
The soul and body of thy Charlemont.  Casta. 
I feel a substance, warm, and soft, and moist,  
Subject to the capacity of sense.  Charl. 
Which Spirits are not; for their essence is  
Above the nature and the order of  
Those Elements whereof our senses are  
Created. Touch my lip. Why turnst thou from me?  Cast. 
Grief above griefs. That which should woe relieve,  
Wished and obtained, gives greater cause to grieve.  Charl. 
Can Castabella think it cause of grief  
That the relation of my death proves false?  Casta. 
The presence of the person we affect,  
(Being hopeless to enjoy him) makes our grief  
More passionate than if we saw him not.  Charl. 
Why not enjoy? has absence changed thee?  Casta. 
Yes.  
From maid to wife.  Charl. 
Art married?  Casta. 
O I am.  Charl. 
Married had not my mother been a woman,  
I should protest against the chastity  
Of all thy sex. How can the Merchant, or  
The Mariner absent whole years (from wives  
Experienced in the satisfaction of  
Desire) promise themselves to find their sheets  
Unspotted with adultery, at their  
Return? when you that never had the sense  
Of actual temptation; could not stay  
A few short months.  Caste. 
O do but hear me speak.  Charl. 
But thou wert wise; and didst consider that  
A Soldier might be maimed, and so (perhaps)  
Lose his ability to please thee.  Casta. 
No. That weakness pleases me in him I have.  Char. 
What? married to a man unable too?  
O strange incontinence! Why? was thy blood  
Increased to such a pleurisy of lust,  
That of necessity, there must a vain  
Be opened; though by one that had no skill  
To do't?  Casta. 
Sir, I beseech you hear me.  Charl. 
Speak.  Casta. 
Heaven knows I am unguilty of this act.  Charl. 
Why? were't thou forced to do't?  Casta. 
Heaven knows I was.  Charl. 
What villain did it?  Casta. 
Your Uncle 'D'amville.  
And he that dispossessed my love of you;  
Hath disinherited you of possession.  Charl. 
Disinherited? wherein have I deserved  
To be deprived of my dear Father's love?  Casta. 
Both of his love and him. His soul's at rest.  
But here your injured patience may behold  
The signs of his lamented memory.  Charlemont finds his Father's Monument. 
H'as found it. When I took him for a Ghost,  
I could endure the torment of my fear;  
More easily than I can his sorrows hear.  Exit. Charl. 
Of all men's griefs must mine be singular?  
Without example? Here I met my grave.  
And all men's woes are buried i' their graves  
But mine. In mine my miseries are borne.  
I pray sorrow leave a little room,  
In my confounded and tormented mind;  
For understanding to deliberate  
The cause or author of this accident.—  
A close advantage of my absence made,  
To dispossess me both of land and wife:  
And all the profit does arise to him,  
By whom my absence was first moved and urged.  
These circumstances (Uncle) tell me, you  
Are the suspected author of those wrongs.  
Whereof the lightest, is more heavy than  
The strongest patience can endure to bear.  Exit. Enter D'amville, Sebastian, and Languebeau. D'am. 
Now Sir! your business?  Seba. 
My Annuity.  D'am. 
Not a denier.  Seba. 
How would you ha'me live?  D'am. 
Why turn crier. Cannot you turn Crier?  Seba. 
Yes.  D'am. 
Then do so, youhave a good voice for't.  
You're excellent at crying of a Rape.  Seba. 
Sir, I confess in particular respect to yourself, I was somewhat forgetful. General honesty possessed me.  D'am. 
Go, thouart the base corruption of my blood; And like a Tetter grows't unto my flesh.  Seba. 
Inflict any punishment upon me. The severity shall not discourage me, if it be not shameful; so you'll but put money i'my purse. The want of money makes a free spirit more mad than the possession does an Usurer.  D'am. 
Not a farthing.  Seba. 
Would you ha'me turn purse-taker? 'tis the next way to do't. For want is like the rack; it draws a man to endanger himself to the gallows rather than endure it.  Enter Charlemont, D'amville counterfeits to take him for a ghost. D'am. 
What art thou? Stay. Assist my troubled sense. My apprehension will distract me. Stay.  Languebeau snuff avoids him fearfully. Seba. 
What art thou? speak.  Charl. 
The spirit of Charlemont.  D'am. 
O stay! compose me. I dissolve.  Lang. 
No. 'tis profane. Spirits are invisible. 'tis the fiend i'the likeness of Charlemont. I will have no conversation with Sathan.  Exit snuff. Seba. 
The Spirit of Charlemont? I'll try that.  Strike, and the blow returned. 
'Fore God thou sayest true, thouart all Spirit.  D'am. 
Go call the Officers.  Exit D'amville. Charl. 
thouart a villain; and the Son of a villain.  Seba. 
You lie.  Fight. Sebastian is down. Char. 
Have at thee.  Enter the Ghost of Montferrers. 
Revenge to thee I'll dedicate this work.  Mont. 
Hold Charlemont!  
Let him revenge my murder, and thy wrongs,  
To whom the justice of Revenge belongs.  Exit. Char. 
You torture me between the passion of my blood, and the religion of my soul,  Sebastian rises. Seba. 
A good honest fellow.  Enter D'amville with Officers. D'am. 
What? wounded? apprehend him. Sir; is this your salutation for the courtesy I did you when we parted last? You ha'forgot I lent you a thousand Crowns. First, let him answer for this riot. When the Law is satisfied for that; an an action for his debt shall clap him up again. I took you for a Spirit; and I'll conjure you before I ha'done.  Charl. 
No. I'll turn conjuror. Devil! within this Circle, in the midst of all thy force and malice I conjure thee do thy worst.  D'am. 
Away with him.  Exeunt Officers with Charlemont. Seba. 
Sir, I have got a scratch or two here for your sake. I hope you'll give me money to pay the Surgeon.  D'am. 
Borachio! fetch me a thousand Crowns. I am content to countenance the freedom of your spirit when 'tis worthily employed. A God's name give behaviour the full scope of generous liberty; but let it not disperse and spend itself in courses of unbounded licence. Here, pay for your hurts.  Exit. D'amville. Seba. 
I thank you sir.— Generous liberty.— that is to say, freely to bestow my abilities to honest purposes. methinks I should not follow that instruction now; if having the means to do an honest office for an honest fellow, I should neglect it. Charlemont lies in prison for a thousand Crowns. And here I have a thousand Crowns. Honesty tells me 'twere well done to release Charlemont. But discretion says I had much ado to come by this; and when this shall be gone I know not where to singer any more: especially if I employ it to this use, which is like to endanger me into my Father's perpetual displeasure. And then I may go hang myself, or be forced to do that, will make another save me the labour. No matter. Charlemont! Thou gav'st me my life and that's somewhat of a purer earth than gold as fine as it is. 'tis no courtesy I do thee but thankfulness. I owe thee it and I'll pay it. He sought bravely, but the Officers dragged him villainously. Arrant knaves! for using him so discourteously; may the sins o'the poor people be so few, that you sha'not be able to spare so much out o'your gettings, as will pay for the hire of a lame starved hackney to ride to an execution. But go a foot to the gallows, and be hanged. May elder brothers turn good husbands, and younger brothers get good wives; that there be no need of debt-books, nor use of sergeant. May there be all peace but i'the war, and all charity but i'the Devil; so that prisons may be turned to Hospitals, though the Officers live oath benevolence. If this curse might come to pass, the world would say, Blessed be he that curseth.  Exit. Enter Charlemont in prison. Charl. 
I grant the Heaven. Thy goodness doth command  
Our punishments: but yet no further than  
The measure of our sins. How should they else  
Be just? Or how should that good purpose of  
Thy justice take effect, by bounding men  
Within the confines of humanity,  
When our afflictions do exceed our crimes?  
Then they do rather teach the barbarous world  
Examples that extend her cruelties  
Beyond their own dimensions; and instruct  
Our actions to be more, more barbarous.  
O my afflicted soul! How torment swells  
Thy apprehension with profane conceit,  
Against the sacred justice of my God?  
Our own constructions are the authors of  
Our misery. We never measure our  
Conditions but with Men above us in  
Estate. So while our Spirits labour to  
Be higher than our fortunes theyare more base.  
Since all those attributes which make men seem  
Superior to us; are Man's Subjects; and  
Were made to serve him. The repining Man  
Is of a servile spirit to deject  
The value of himself below their estimation.  Enter Sebastian with the Keeper. Seba. 
Here. Take my sword.— How now my wild swaggerer? you're tame enough now; are you not? The penury of a prison is like a soft consumption. 'twill humble the pride o' your mortality; and arm your soul in complete patience to endure the weight of affliction without feeling it. What? Hast no music in thee? Thou'st trebles and bases enough. Treble injury; and base usage. But trebles and bases make poor music without means. Thou want'st Means; Dost? what? Dost droop? art dejected?  Charl. 
No Sir. I have a heart above the reach  
Of thy most violent maliciousness.  
A fortitude in scorn of thy contempt;  
(Since Fate is pleased to have me suffer it)  
That can bear more than thou hast power t'inflict.  
I was a Baron That thy Father has  
Deprived me off. In stead of that, I am  
Created King. I've lost a Signiory,  
That was confined within a piece of earth;  
A Wart upon the body of the world.  
But now I am an Emperor of a world.  
This little world of Man. My passions are  
My Subjects; and I can command them laugh;  
Whilst thou dost tickle'em to death with misery.  Seba. 
'tis bravely spoken; and I love thee for't. Thou liest here for a thousand crowns. Here are a thousand to redeem thee. Not for the ransom o'my life thou gav'st me. That I value not at one crown. 'tis none o'my deed. Thank my Father for't. 'tis his goodness. Yet he looks not for thanks. For he does it under hand; out of a reserved disposition to do thee good without ostentation.— Out o' great heart you'll refuse't now; will you?  Charl. 
No. Since I must submit myself to Fate; I never will neglect the offer of one benefit; but entertain them as her favours; and th'inductions to some end of better fortune. As whose instrument; I thank thy courtesy.  Seba. 
Well, come along.  Exeunt. Enter D'amville and Castabella. D'am: 
Daughter you do not well to urge me. I  
Ha'done no more than justice. Charlemont  
Shall die and rot in prison; and 'tis just.  Casta. 
O Father! Mercy is an attribute  
As high as justice; an essential part  
Of his unbounded goodness, whose divine  
Impression, form, and image man should bear.  
And( methinks) Man should love to imitate  
His Mercy; since the only countenance  
Of justice, were destruction; if the sweet  
And loving favour of his mercy did  
Not mediate between it and our weakness.  D'am. 
Forbear. You will displease me. He shall rot.  Casta. 
Dear Sir! Since by your greatness, you  
Are nearer heaven in place; be nearer it  
In goodness. Rich men should transcend the poor,  
As clouds the earth; raised by the comfort of  
The Sun, to water dry and barren grounds.  
If neither the impression in your soul  
Of goodness; nor the duty of your place,  
As goodness substitute; can move you: then  
Let nature, which in Savages, in beasts,  
Can stir to pity, tell you that he is  
Your kinsman;—  D'am. 
You expose your honesty  
To strange construction: Why should you so urge  
Release for Charlemont? Come you profess  
More dearness to him than your modesty  
Can answer. You have tempted my suspicion.  
I tell thee he shall starve, and die, and rot.  Enter Charlemont and Sebastian. Charl. 
Uncle, I thank you.  D'am. 
Much good do it you.— Who did release him?  Seba. 
I.  Exit Castabella. D'am. 
You are a villain.  Seba. 
You're my Father.  Exit Sebastian. D'am. 
I must temporize.—  
Nephe, had not his open freedom made  
My disposition known; I would ha' borne  
The course and inclination of my love  
According to the motion of the Sun,  
Invisibly enjoyed and understood.  Charl. 
That shows your good works are directed to  
No other end then goodness. I was rash,  
I must confess. But—  D'am. 
I will excuse you.  
To lose a Father, and (as you may think)  
Be disinherited (it must be granted)  
Are motives to impatience. But for death,  
Who can avoid it? And for his estate,  
In the uncertainty of both your lives,  
'twas done discreetly to confer't upon  
A known Successor; being the next in blood.  
And one (dear Nephew) whom in time to come,  
You shall have cause to thank. I will not be  
Your dispossessor, but your Guardian.  
I will supply your Father's vacant place,  
To guide your green improvidence of youth;  
And make you ripe for your inheritance.  Charl. 
Sir, I embrace your generous promises.  Enter Rousard sick, and Castabella. Rousa. 
Embracing? I behold the object that  
Mine eye affects. Dear cousin Charlemont.  D'am. 
My elder Son! He meets you happily.  
For with the hand of our whole family  
We interchange th'indenture of our Loves.  Charl. 
And I accept it. Yet not joyfully  
Because you're sick.  D'am. 
Sir; His affection's sound,  
Though he be sick in body.  Rousa. 
Sick indeed.  
A general weakness did surprise my health  
The very day I married Castabella.  
As if my sickness were a punishment,  
That did arrest me for some injury  
I then committed. Credit me (my Love)  
I pity thy ill fortune to be matched  
With such a weak unpleasing bedfellow.  Casta. 
Believe me Sir; it never troubles me.  
I am as much respectless to enjoy  
Such pleasure as ignorant what it is.  Charl. 
Thy sex's wonder. Unhappy Charlemont.  D'am. 
Come, let's to supper. There we will confirm  
The eternal bond of our concluded love.  Exeunt.  

Actus quarti Scena prima.  Enter Cataplasma and Soquette with Needlework. Cataplasma. 
COme Soquette; your work! let's examine your work. What's here? a Medlar with a Plum-tree growing hard by it; The leaves o' the Plum-tree falling off; the gum issuing out o' the perished joints; and the branches some of 'em dead, and some rotten; and yet but a young Plum-tree. In good sooth, very pretty.  Soqu. 
The Plum-tree (forsooth) grows so near the Medlar, that the Medlar sucks and draws all the sap from it; and the natural strength o' the ground, so that it cannot prosper.  Cata. 
How conceited you are! But here thoust made a Tree to bear no fruit. Why's that?  Soqu. 
There grows a Savin-tree next it forsooth.  Cata. 
Forsooth you are a little too witty in that.  Enter Sebastian. Seba. 
But this honeysuckle winds about this whitethorn very prettily and lovingly; sweet Mistress Cataplasma.  Cata. 
Monsieur Sebastian! in good sooth very uprightly welcome this evening.  Seba. 
What? moralising upon this Gentlewoman's needlework? let's see.  Cata. 
No Sir. Only examining whether it be done to the true nature and life o' the thing?  Seba. 
Here youhave set a Medlar with a Bachelors-button o' one side; and a Snail o' th'tother. The Batchelors-button should have held his head up more pertly towards the Medlar; the Snail o'th' other side, should ha'been wrought with an artificial laziness, doubling his tail, and putting out his horn but half the length. And then the Medlar falling (as it were) from the lazy Snail, and inclining towards the pert Bachelors-button; their branches spreading and winding one within another as if they did embrace. But here's a moral. A poppering Peartree growing upon the bank of a River; seeming continually to look downwards into the water, as if it were enamoured of it; and ever as the fruit ripens, lets it fall for love (as it were) into her lap. Which the wanton Stream, like a Strumpet, no sooner receives, but she carries it away, and bestows it upon some other creature she maintains: still seeming to play and dally under the poppering, so long, that it has almost washed away the earth from the root; and now the poor Tree stands as if it were ready to fall and perish by that whereon it spent all the substance it had.  Cata. 
Moral for you that love those wanton running waters.  Seba. 
But is not my Lady Levidulcia come yet?  Cata. 
Her purpose promised us her company ere this. Lirie! your Lute and your Book.  Seba. 
Well said. A lesson o' th'Lute to entertain the time with till she comes.  Cata. 
Sol, fa, mi, la.— Mi, mi mi.— Precious! Dost not see mi between the two crotchets? Strike me full there.— So— forward.— This is a sweet strain, and thou fingerest it beastly. Mi is a laerg there; and the prick that stands before mi, a long; always half your note.— Now— Run your division pleasingly with those quavers. Observe all your graces i'the touch.— here's a sweet close— strike it full, it sets off your music delicately.  Enter Languebeau snuff and Levidulcia. Lang. 
Purity be in this House.  Cata. 
'tis now entered; and welcome with your good Ladyship.  Seba. 
Cease that music. Here's a sweeter instrument.  Leuid. 
Restrain your liberty. See you not Snuff?  Seba. 
What does the Stinkard here? put Snuff out. He's offensive.  Leuid. 
No. The credit of his company defends my being abroad from the eye of Suspicion.  Cata. 
will't please your Ladyship go up into the Closet? There are those Falls and tires I told you of.  Leuid. 
Monsieur Snuff, I shall request your patience. My stay will not be long.  — Exit cum Sebast. Lang. 
My duty madam.— Falls and tires? I begin to suspect what Falls and tires you mean. My Lady and Sebastian the Fall and the tire, and I the Shadow. I perceive the purity of my conversation is used but for a property to cover the uncleanness of their purposes. The very contemplation o' the thing, makes the spirit of the flesh begin to wriggle in my blood. And here my desire has met with an object already. This Gentlewoman( methinks) should be swayed with the motion; living in a house where moving example is so common. Temptation has prevailed over me; and I will attempt to make it overcome her.— Mistress Cataplasma! My Lady (it seems) has some business that requires her stay. The fairness o' the evening invites me into the air; will it please you give this Gentlewoman leave to leave her work, and walk a turn or two with me for honest recreation?  Cata. 
With all my heart Sir. Go Soquette; give ear to his instructions; you may get understanding by his company I can tell you.  Lang. 
In the way of holiness; Mistress Cataplasma.  Cata. 
Good Monsieur Snuff!— I will attend your return.  Lang. 
Your hand Gentlewomen.—  
The flesh is humble till the Spirit move it;  
But when 'tis raised it will command above it.  Exeunt. Enter D'amville, Charlemont, and Borachio. D'am. 
Your sadness and the sickness of my Son,  
Have made our company and conference  
Less free and pleasing then I purposed it.  Char. 
Sir; for the present I am much unfit  
For conversation or society.  
With pardon I will rudely take my leave.  D'am. 
Good night; dear Nephew.—  Exit Charlemont. 
Seest thou that same man?  Bora. 
Your meaning Sir?  D'am. 
That fellows life Borachio.  
Like a superfluous Letter in the Law,  
Endangers our assurance.  Bora. 
Scrape him out.  D'am. 
wilt do't?  Bora. 
Give me your purpose I will do't.  D'am. 
Sad melancholy has drawn Charlemont,  
With meditation on his Father's death,  
Into the solitary walk behind the Church.  Bora. 
The Churchyard? This the fittest place for death,  
Perhaps he's praying. Then he's fit to die.  
We'll send him charitably to his grave.  D'am. 
No matter how thou tak'st him. First take this.—  Pistol. 
Thou knowest the place. Observe his passages;  
And with the most advantage make a stand;  
That favoured by the darkness of the night,  
His breast may fall upon thee at so near  
A distance, that he sha'not shun the blow.  
The deed once done, thou may'st retire with safety.  
The place is unfrequented; and his death  
Will be imputed to th'attempt of thieves.  Bora. 
Be careless. Let your mind be free and clear.  
This Pistol shall discharge you of your fear.  — Exit. D'am. 
But let me call my projects to account,  
For what effect and end I have engaged  
myself in all this blood? To leave a state  
To the succession of my proper blood.  
But how shall that succession be continued?  
Not in my elder Son I fear, Disease  
And weakness have disabled him for issue.  
For th'tother; his loose humour will endure  
No bond of marriage. And I doubt his life;  
His spirit is so boldly dangerous.  
O pity that the profitable end,  
Of such a prosperous murder should be lost!  
Nature forbid. I hope I have a body,  
That will not suffer me to lose my labour,  
For want of issue, yet. But then't must be  
A Bastard.— Tush; they only father bastards,  
That father other men's begettings. Daughter!  
Be it mine own; let it come whence it will.  
I am resolved. Daughter!  — Enter Servant. Seru. 
My Lord.  D'am. 
I prithee call my Daughter.  — Enter Casta. Casta. 
Your pleasure Sir.  D'am. 
Is thy Husband i'bed?  Casta. 
Yes my Lord.  D'am. 
The evening's fair. I prithee walk a turn or two.  Casta. 
Come jasper.  D'am. 
No.  
Weel' walk but to the corner o'the Church;  
And I have something to speak privately.  Casta. 
No matter, Stay.  — Exit Servant. D'am. 
This falls out happily.  — Exeunt. Enter Charlemont, Borachio dogging him in the Churchyard. The Clock strikes twelve. Charl. 
twelve.  Bora. 
'tis a good hour, 'twill strike one anon.  Charl. 
How fit a place for contemplation is this dead of night, among the dwellings of the dead.— This grave.— Perhaps th'inhabitant was in his life time the possessor of his own desires. Yet in the midst of all his greatness and his wealth; he was less rich and less contented, then in this poor piece of earth, lower and lesser than a Cottage. For here he neither wants nor cares. Now that his body favours of corruption; He enjoys a sweeter rest than e'er he did amongst the sweetest pleasures of this life. For here, there's nothing troubles him.— And there.— In that grave lies another. He (perhaps) was in his life as full of misery as this of happiness. And here's an end of both. Now both their states are equal. O that Man, with so much labour should aspire to worldly height; when in the humble earth, the world's condition's at the best! Or scorn inferior men; since to be lower than a worm, is to be higher than a King!  Bora. 
Then fall and rise.  — Discharges.— Gives false fire. Charl. 
What villains hand was that? save thee or thou shalt perish.  They fight. Bora. 
zounds unsaved I think.  — Fall. Charl. 
What? Have I killed him? whatsoe'er thou be'st I would thy hand had prospered. For I was unfit to live, and well prepared to die. What shall I do? accuse myself. Submit me to the law, and that will quickly end this violent increase of misery. But 'tis a murder to be accessary to mine own death. I will not. I will take this opportunity to scape. It may be Heaven reserves me to some better end.  Exit Charlemont. Enter snuff and Soquette into the Churchyard. Soqu. 
Nay good Sir; I dare not. In good sooth I come of a generation both by Father and Mother, that were all as fruitful as Costard-mongers wives.  Snu. 
Tush then, a tympany is the greatest danger can be feared. Their fruitfulness turns but to a certain kind of phlegmatic windy disease.  Soqu. 
I must put my understanding to your trust Sir. I would be loath to be deceived.  Snu. 
No, conceive; thou shalt not. Yet thou shalt profit by my instruction too. My body is not every day drawn dry wench.  Soqu. 
Yet methinks Sir, your want of use should rather make your body like a Well, the lesser 'tis drawn, the sooner it grows dry.  Snu. 
Thou shalt try that instantly.  Soqu. 
But we want place and opportunity.  Snu. 
We have both. This is the back side of the House which the superstitious call Saint Winifred's, Church; and is verily a convenient unfrequented place.— Where under the close Curtains of the night;  Soqu. 
You purpose i'the dark to make me light. pulls out a sheet, a hair, and a beard .But what ha' you there?  Snu. 
This disguise is for security sake wench. There's a talk thou know'st, that the Ghost of old Mon ferrers walks. In this Church he was buried. Now if any stranger fall upon us before our business be ended; in this disguise I shall be taken for that Ghost; and never be called to examination I warrant thee. Thus we shall scape both prevention and discovery. How do I look in this habit wench?  Saq. 
So like a Ghost that notwithstanding I have some foreknowledge of you, you make my hair stand almost an end.  Snu. 
I will try how I can kiss in this beard.— O fie, fie, fie. I will put it off; and then kiss; and then put it on. I can do the rest without kissing.  Enter Charlemont doubtfully with his sword drawn, is upon them before they are aware. They run out divers ways, and leave the disguise. Charl. 
What ha' we here? a Sheet? a hair? a beard? What end was this disguise intended for? No matter what. I'll not expostulate the purpose of a friendly accident. Perhaps it may accommodate my scape.— I fear I am pursued. For more assurance, I'll hide me here i'th' Charnel house; this convocation-house of dead men's skulls.— To get into the Charnel house, he takes hold of a Death's head; it slips and staggers him .Death's head! deceivest my hold? Such is the trust to all mortality.—  Hides himself in the Charnel house. Enter D'amville and Castabella. Casta. 
My Lord! The night grows late. Your Lordship spoke of something you desired to move in private.  D'am. 
Yes. Now I'll speak it. Th'argument is love. The smallest ornament of thy sweet form (that abstract of all pleasure) can command the senses into passion; and thy entire perfection is my object; yet I love thee with the freedom of my reason. I can give thee reason for my love.  Casta. 
Love me; my Lord? I do believe it, for I am the wife of him you love.  D'am. 
'tis true. By my persuasion thou wert forced to marry one, unable to perform the office of a Husband. I was author of the wrong. My conscience suffers under't; and I would disburden it by satisfaction.  Casta. 
How?  D'am. 
I will supply that pleasure to thee which he cannot.  Casta. 
Are y'a devil or a man?  D'am. 
A man; and such a man, as can return thy entertainment with as prodigal a body, as the covetous desire of woman ever was delighted with. So, that besides the full performance of thy empty husband's duty; thou shalt have the joy of children to continue the succession of thy blood. For the appetite that steals her pleasure; draws the forces of the body to an united strength; and puts 'em altogether into action; never fails of procreation. All the purposes of Man aim but at one of these two ends; pleasure or profit: And in this one sweet conjunction of our loves. they both will meet. Would it not grieve thee, that a Stranger to thy blood, should lay the first foundation of his house upon the ruins of thy family?  Casta. 
Now Heaven defend me! May my memory be utterly extinguished; and the heir of him that was my Father's enemy, raise his eternal monument upon our ruins; ere the greatest pleasure or the greatest profit, ever tempt me to continue it by incest.  D'am. 
Incest? Tush. These distances affinity observes; are articles of bondage cast upon our freedoms by our own subjections. Nature allows a general liberty of generation to all creatures else. Shall Man to whose command and use all creatures were made subject be less free than they?  Casta. 
O God! is thy unlimited and infinite omnipotence less free because thou dost no ill? or if you argue merely out of Nature; do you not degenerate from that; and are you not unworthy the prerogative of Nature's Masterpiece, when basely you prescribe yourself authority and law from their examples whom you should command? I could confute you; but the horror of the argument confounds my understanding.— Sir, I know, you do but try me in your sons behalf; suspecting that my strength and youth of blood cannot contain themselves with impotence.— Believe me (Sir) I never wronged him. If it be your lust; O quench it on their prostituted flesh, whose trade of sin can please desire with more delight, and less offence.— The poison of your breath; evaporated from so foul a soul; infects the air more than the damps that rise from bodies but half rotten in their graves.  D'am. 
Kiss me, I warrant thee my breath is sweet. These dead men's bones lie here of purpose to invite us to supply the number of the living. Come; we'll get young bones and do't. I will enjoy thee. No? Nay then invoke your great supposed protector; I will do't.  Casta. 
Supposed protector? Are y'an Atheist? Then, I know my prayers and tears are spent in vain. O patient Heaven! Why dost thou not express thy wrath in thunderbolts; to tear the frame of man in pieces? How can earth endure the burden of this wickedness without an earthquake? Or the angry face of Heaven be not inflamed with lightning.  D'am. 
Conjure up the Devil and his Dam; Cry to the graves; the dead can hear thee; invocate their help.  Casta. 
O would this grave might open, and my body were bound to the dead carcase of a man for ever, ere it entertain the lust of this detested villain.  D'am. 
Tereas-like, thus I will force my passage to—  Charl. 
The Devil.  
Charlemont rises in the disguise and frights D'amville away. Now Lady! with the hand of Charlemont, I thus redeem you from the arm of lust.— My Castabella!  Casta. 
My dear Charlemont!  Charl. 
For all my wrongs I thank thee gracious Heaven; thoust made me satisfaction; to reserve me for this blessed purpose. Now sweet Death, I'll bid thee welcome. Come. I'll guard thee home; and then I'll cast myself into the arms of apprehension, that the law may make this worthy work, the crown of all my actions being the best and last.  Casta. 
The last? The law? Now Heaven forbid! what ha'you done?  Charl. 
Why, I have killed a man; not murdered him, my Castabella; He would ha' murdered me.  Casta. 
Then Charlemont; the hand of Heaven directed thy defence.  
That wicked Atheist, I suspect his plot.  Charl. 
My life he seeks. I would he had it since he has deprived me of those blessings that should make me love it; Come; I'll give it him.  Casta. 
You sha'not. I will first expose myself to certain danger, then for my defence destroy the man that saved me from destruction.  Charl. 
Thou canst not satisfy me better, than to be the instrument of my release from misery.  Casta. 
Then work it by escape. Leave me to this protection that still guards the innocent; Or I will be a partner in your destiny.  Charl. 
My soul is heavy. Come; lie down to rest;  
These are the pillows whereon men sleep best.  They lie down with either of them a Death's head for a pillow. Enter snuff seeking Soquette. Snu. 
Soquette! Soquette! Soquette! O art thou there?—  
He mistakes the body of Borachio for Soquette.  
Verily thou liest in a fine premeditate readiness for the purpose. Come kiss me sweet Soquette.— Now purity defend me from the sin of Sodom.— This is a creature of the masculine gender.— Verily the Man is blasted.— Yea? cold and stiff?— Murder, murder, murder.  Exit. Enter D'amville distractedly; starts at the sight of a Death's head. D'am. 
Why dost thou stare upon me? Thou art not the skull of him I murdered. What hast thou to do to vex my conscience? Sure thou wert the head of a most dogged Usurer, thouart so uncharitable. And that Bawd the sky, there; she could shut the windows and the doors of this great chamber of the world; and draw the curtains of the clouds between those lights and me about this bed of earth, when that same strumpet Murder & myself committed sin together. Then she could leave us in the dark, till the close deed was done: But now, that I begin to feel the loathsome horror of my sin; and (like a lecher emptied of his lust) desire to bury my face under my eyebrows, and would steal from my shame unseen; she meets me i'th' face with all her light corrupted eyes, to challenge payment o' me.— O behold. Yonder's the Ghost of old Montferrers in a long white sheet, climbing yond lofty mountain to complain to Heaven of me.— Montferrers! 'pox o' fearfulness. 't is nothing but a fair white cloud. Why? was I borne a coward? He lies that says so. Yet the countenance of a bloodless worm might ha' the courage now to turn my blood to water. The trembling motion of an Aspen leaf, would make me like the shadow of that leaf he shaking under't. I could now commit a murder', were it but to drink the fresh warm blood of him I murdered; to supply the want and weakness o'mine own; 'tis grown so cold and phlegmatic.  Lang. 
Murder, murder, murder.  — Within. D'am. 
mountains overwhelm me, the Ghost of old Montferrers haunts me.  Lang. 
Murder, murder, murder.  D'am. 
O were my body circumvolved within that cloud; that when the thunder tears his passage open, it might scatter me to nothing in the air!  Enter Languebeau snuff with the Watch. Lang. 
Here you shall find the murdered body.  D'am. 
Black Beelzebub, and all his hellhounds come to apprehend me?  Lang. 
No my good Lord. we come to apprehend the murderer. The Ghost (great Pluto) was a fool; unfit to be employed in any serious business for the state of hell. Why? could not he ha' suffered me to raise the mountain o' my sins with one as damnable as all the rest; and then ha' tumbled me to ruin? But apprehend me e'en between the purpose and the act? before it was committed?  Watch. 
Is this the murderer? He speaks suspiciously.  Lang. 
No verily. This is my Lord D'amville. And his distraction (I think) grows out of his grief for the loss of a faithful servant. For surely I take him to be Borachio that is slain.  D'am. 
Haah! Borachio slain? Thou look'st like Snuff, dost not.  Lang. 
Yes in sincerity my Lord.  D'am. 
Hark thee?— Sawest thou not a Ghost?  Lang. 
A Ghost? where my Lord?— I smell a Fox.  D'am. 
Here i' the Churchyard.  Lang. 
Tush, tush; their walking spirits are mere imaginary fables. There's no such thing in rerum natura. Here is a man slain. And with the Spirit of consideration, I rather think him to be the murderer got into that disguise, than any such fantastic toy.  Da'm. 
My brains begin to put themselves in order. I apprehend thee now.— 'tis e'en so.— Borachio! I will search the Centre but I'll find the murderer.  Watch. 
Here, here, here.—  D'am. 
Stay. asleep? so soundly? and so sweetly upon deaths Heads? and in a place so full of fear and horror? Sure there is some other happiness within the freedom of the conscience, than my knowledge e'er attained too.— Ho, ho, ho!  Charl. 
You're welcome Uncle. Had you sooner come,  
You had been sooner welcome. I'm the Man,  
You seek. You sha'not need examine me.  D'am. 
My Nephew! and my Daughter! O my dear  
Lamented blood! what Fate has cast you thus  
Unhappily upon this accident?  Charl. 
You know Sir, she's as clear as Chastity.  D'am. 
As her own chastity. The time; the place;  
All circumstances argue that unclear.  Casta. 
Sir, I confess it; and repentantly  
Will undergo the self same punishment,  
That justice shall inflict on Charlemont.  D'am. 
Unjustly she betrays her innocence.  Watch. 
But Sir, she's taken with you; and she must  
To prison with you.  D'am. 
There's no remedy.  
Yet were it not my sons bed she abused;  
My land should fly but both should be excused.  Exeunt. Enter Belforest and a Servant. Belfo. 
Is not my wife come in yet?  Seru. 
No my Lord.  Belfo. 
methinks she's very affectedly inclined,  
To young Sebastian's company o'late.  
But jealousy is such a torment, that  
I am afraid to entertain it. Yet  
The more I shun by circumstance to meet  
Directly with it; the more ground I find  
To cirumvent my apprehension. First,  
I know sh'as a perpetual appetite;  
Which being so oft encountered with a man  
Of such a bold luxurious freedom, as  
Sebastian is; and of so promising  
A body: her own blood, corrupted, will  
Betray her to temptation.—  Enter Frisco closely. Fris. 
'Precious! I was sent by his Lady to see if her Lord were in bed; I should ha' done't slily without discovery; and now I am blurted upon 'em before I was aware.  Exit. Belfo. 
Know not you the Gentlewoman my wife brought home?  Seru. 
By sight my Lord. Her man was here but now.  Belfo. 
Her man? I pray run and call him quickly.— This villain. I suspect him ever since I found him hid behind the Tapestry.— Frisco! thouart welcome Frisco.— Leave us. Dost hear Frisco! is not my wife at thy Mistresses?  Frisco. 
I know not my Lord.  Belfo. 
I prithee tell me Frisco; we are private; tell me. Is not thy Mistress a good wench?  Fris. 
How means your Lordship that? A wench o'the trade.  Belf. 
Yes faith Frisco; e'en a wench o'the trade.  Fris. 
O no my Lord. Those falling diseases cause baldness; and my Mistress recovers the loss of hair, for she is a Periwig-maker.  Belfo. 
And nothing else?  Frisc. 
Sells Falls and tires, and Bodies for Ladies; or so.  Belfo. 
So Sir: and she helps my Lady to falls and bodies now and then; does she not?  Frise. 
At her ladyships pleasure; my Lord.  Belfo. 
Her pleasure; you Rogue? you are the Pandar to her pleasure you Varlet, are you not? you know the conveyances between Sebastian and my wife. Tell me the truth; or by this hand I'll nail thy bosom to the earth. Stir not you Dog; but quickly tell the truth.  Frisco. 
O Yes!  — speak like a Crier. Belfo. 
Is not thy Mistress a Bawd to my wife?  Frisco. 
O yes!  Belfo. 
And acquainted with her tricks, and her plots, and her devices.  Frisco. 
O yes! If any man, 'Court, City or Country, has found my Lady Levidulcia in bed, but my Lord Beforest, it is Sebastian.  Belfo. 
What dost thou proclaim it? Dost thou cry it thou villain?  Frisco. 
Can you laugh it my Lord? I thought you meant to proclaim yourself Cuckold.  Enter the Watch. Belfo. 
The Watch? Met with my wish. I must request th'assistance of your offices. Frisco runs away. —'Sdeath; stay that villain; pursue him.  — Exeunt. Enter snuff importuning Soquette. Sequ. 
Nay, if you get me any more into the Churchyard.  Snu. 
Why Soquette? I never got thee there yet.  Soqu. 
Got me there? No. Not with child.  Snu. 
I promised thee I would not; and I was as good as my word.  Soqu. 
Yet your word was better than than your deed. But, steal up into the little matted chamber o'the left hand.  Snu. 
I prithee let it be the right hand; thou left'st me before and I did not like that.  Soqu. 
'Precious quickly; So soon as my Mistress shall be in bed I'll come to you.  — Exit snuff. Enter Sebastian, Levidulcia and Cataplasma. Cata. 
I wonder Frisco stays so long.  Seba. 
Mistress Soquette, a word with you.—  Whisper. levi. 
If he brings word my Husband is i'bed; I will adventure one night's liberty to lie abroad.— My strange affection to this Man!— 'tis like that natural sympathy which e'en among the senseless creatures of the earth, commands a mutual inclination and consent: For though it seems to be the free effect of mine own voluntary love; yet I can neither restrain it, nor give reason for't. But now 'tis done; and in your power it lies to save my honour; or dishonour me.  Cata. 
Enjoy your pleasure (madam) without fear. I never will betray the trust you have committed to me. And you wrong yourself, to let consideration of the sin; molest your conscience. Mc thinks 'tis unjust, that a reproach should be inflicted on a woman for offending but with one; when 'tis a light offence in Husbands to commit with many.  Leut. 
So it seems to me.— Why how now Sebastian? making love to that Gentlewoman? How many mistresses ha' you i'faith?  Seba. 
In faith; none. For I think none of 'em are faithful, but otherwise as many as clean Shirts. The love of a woman is like a Mushroom; it grows in one night, and will serve somewhat pleasingly, next morning to breakfast: but afterwards waxes fulsome and unwholesome.  Cata. 
Nay by Saint Winifred; a woman's love lasts as long as Winter fruit.  Seba. 
'tis true. Till new come in. By my experience no longer.  — Enter Frisco running. Frisco. 
Some body's doing has undone us; and we are like pay dearly for't.  Sebast. 
Pay dean? for what?  Frisco. 
will't not be a chargeable reckoning, think you; when here are half a dozen fellows coming to call us to account, with every man a several bill in his hand, that we are not able to discharge.  — Knock at the door. Cata. 
Passion o' me. What bounce's that? madam! withdraw yourself.  Leuid. 
Sebastian if you love me, save my honour.  — Exeunt. Seba. 
What violence is this? What seek you? zounds! you shall not pass.  Enter Belforest and the Watch. Belfo. 
Pursue the Strumpet. Villain give me way; or I will make my passage through thy blood.  Seba. 
My blood will make it slippery my Lord. 'twere better you would take another way. You may hap fall else.  They fight. Both slain. Sebastian falls first. Seba. 
I ha''t i'faith.  — Dies. While Belforest is staggering, enter Levidulcia. Leuid. 
O God! my Husband! my Sebastian! Husband! Neither can spoke; yet both report my shame. Is this the saving of my Honour? when their blood runs out in rivers; and my lust the fountain whence it flows? Dear Husband let not thy departed spirit be displeased; if with adulterate lips I kiss thy cheek. Here I behold the hatefulness of lust; which brings me kneeling to embrace him dead; whose body living I did loath to touch. Now I can weep. But what can tears do good; when I weep only water, they weep blood? But could I make an Ocean with my tears; that on the flood this broken vessel of my body, laden heavy with light lust might suffer shipwreck, and so drown my shame: then weeping were to purpose; but alas! The Sea wants water enough to wash away the foulness of my name. O in their wounds; I feel my honour wounded to the death. Shall I outlive my Honour? Must my life be made the world's example? Since it must; then thus in detestation of my deed; to make th'example move more forcibly to virtue; thus, I feel it with a death as full of horror as my life of sin.  — Stabs herself. Enter the Watch with Cataplasma, Frisco, snuff, and Soquette. Watch. 
Hold madam! Lord what a strange night is this.  Snuff. 
May not Snuff be suffered to go out of himself?  Watch. 
Nor you; nor any. All must go with us.  
O with what virtue lust should be withstood!  
Since 'tis a fire quenched seldom without blood.  — Exeunt.  

Actus quinti Scena prima.  Music. A Clozet discovered. A Servant sleeping with lights and money before him. Enter D'amville. D'amville. 
WHat sleep'st thou?  Seru. 
No my Lord. Nor sleep; nor wake.  
But in a slumber troublesome to both.  D'am. 
Whence comes this gold?  Seru. 
'tis part of the Revenue;  
Due to your Lordship since your brother's death.  D'am. 
To bed. Leave me my gold.  Seru. 
And me my rest.  
Two things wherewith one man is seldom blessed.  — Exit. D'am. 
Cease that harsh music. W''re not pleased with it.  He bundles the gold. 
Here sounds a music whose melodious touch,  
Like Angels voices ravishes the sense.  
Behold thou ignorant Astronomer,  
Whose wandering speculation seeks among  
The planets for men's fortunes! with amazement,  
Behold thine error and be planet struck.  
These are the Stars whose operations make  
The fortunes and the destinies of men.  
yond lesser eyes of Heaven, (like Subjects raised  
Into their lofty houses, when their Prince  
Rides underneath th'ambition of their loves)  
Are mounted only to behold the face,  
Of your more rich imperious eminence,  
With unprevented sight. Unmask fair Queen;  Unpurses the gold. 
Vouchsafe their expectations may enjoy,  
The gracious favour they admit to see,  
These are the Stars the Ministers of Fate;  
And man's high wisdom the superior power,  
To which their forces are subordinate.  — Sleeps. Enter the Ghost of Montferrers. Mont. 
D'amville! With all thy wisdom thouart a fool.  
Not like those fools that we term innocents;  
But a most wretched miserable fool.  
Which instantly; to the confusion of  
Thy projects with despair thou shalt behold.  — Exit Ghost. D'amville starts up. D'am. 
What foolish dream dares interrupt my rest?  
To my confusion? How can that be? Since  
My purposes have hitherto been borne  
With prosperous judgement to secure success.  
Which nothing lives to dispossess me off,  
But apprehended Charlemont. And him,  
This brain has made the happy instrument  
To free Suspicion, to annihilate  
All interest and title of his own;  
To seal up my assurance; and confirm  
My absolute possession by the law.  
Thus while the simple honest worshipper  
Of a fantastic providence; groans under  
The burden of neglected misery;  
My real wisdom has raised up a State,  
That shall eternize my posterity.  Enter Servants with the body of Sebastian. 
What's that?  Seru. 
The body of your younger Son slain by the Lord Belforest.  D'am. 
Slain? you lie.— Sebastian. Speak, Sebastian! H'as lost his hearing. A physician presently. Go call a Surgeon.  Rousa. 
oh.  — Within. D'am. 
What groan was that? How does my elder Son? the sound came from his chamber.  Serua. 
He went sick to bed my Lord.  Rousa. 
oh.  — Within. D'am. 
The cries of Mandrakes never touched the ear, with more sad horror then that voice does mine.  Enter a Servant running. Serua. 
Never you will see your Son alive.—  D'am. 
Nature forbid I e'er should see him dead.  A Bed drawn forth with Rousard. 
Withdraw the Curtains. O how does my Son?  Serua. 
methinks, he's ready to give up the ghost.  D'am. 
Destruction take thee and thy fatal tongue. Death, where's the Doctor?— Art not thou the fact of that prodigious apparition seared upon me in my dream?  Serua. 
The Doctor's come my Lord.  — Enter Doctor. D'am. 
Doctor! Behold two Patients, in whose care thy skill may purchase an eternal fame. If thou hast any reading in Hipocrates, Galen, or Avice; if herbs, or drugs, or minerals have any power to save; Now let thy practice and their sovereign use, raise thee to wealth and honour.  Doctor. 
If any root of life remains within'em capable of Physic; fear'em not, my Lord.  Rusa. 
oh.  D'am. 
His gasping sighs are like the falling noise of some great building when the groundwork breaks. On these two pillars stood the stately frame, and architecture of my lofty house. An Earthquake shakes'em. The foundation shrinks. Dear Nature! in whose honour I have raised a work of glory to posterity; O bury not the pride of that great action, under the fall and ruin of itself.  Doctor. 
My Lord. These bodies are deprived of all the radical ability of Nature. The heat of life is utterly extinguished. Nothing remains within the power of man that can restore them.  D'am. 
Take this gold; extract the Spirit of it, and inspire new life into their bodies.  Docto. 
Nothing can my Lord.  D'am. 
You ha' not yet examined the true state and constitution of their bodies. Sure, you ha' not. I'll reserve their waters till the morning. Questionless, their urines will inform you better.  Docto. 
Ha, ha, ha.  D'am. 
Dost laugh thou villain! must my wisdom that has been the object of men's admiration, now become the subject of thy laughter?  Rous. 
oh.  — Dies. All. 
he's dead.  D'am. 
O there expires the date of my posterity! Can Nature be so simple or malicious to destroy the reputation of her proper memory? She cannot. Sure there is some power above her that controls her force.  Doctor. 
A power above Nature? Doubt you that my Lord? Consider but whence Man receives his body and his form. Not from corruption like some worms and Flies; but only from the generation of a man. For Nature never did bring forth a man without a Man; Nor could the first Man being but the passive Subject not the active Mover, be the maker of himself; So of necessity there must be a Superior power to Nature.  D'am. 
Now to myself I am ridiculous. Nature thou art a Traitor to my soul. Thou hast abused my trust. I will complain to a superior Court, to right my wrong I'll prove thee a forger of false assurances. In yond Star chamber thou shalt answer it. Withdraw the bodies. O the sense of death begins to trouble my distracted soul.  — Exeunt. Enter judges and Officers. 1. judg. 
Bring forth the malefactors to the Bar.  Enter Cataplasma, Soquette and Frisco. 
Are you the Gentlewoman in whose house  
The murders were committed?  Catap. 
Yes my Lord.  1. Iud. 
That worthy attribute of Gentry, which  
Your habit draws from ignorant respect;  
Your name deserves not: nor yourself the name  
Of woman. Since you are the poison that  
Infects the honour of all womanhood.  Catap. 
My Lord; I am a Gentlewoman: yet I must confess my poverty compels my life to a condition lower than my birth or breeding.  2. judg. 
Tush we know your birth.  1. judg. 
But under colour to profess the Sale  
Of tires and toys for Gentlewomen's pride;  
You draw a frequentation of men's wives  
To your licentious house; and there abuse  
Their Husbands.—  Frisco. 
Good my Lord her rent is great. The good Gentlewoman has no other thing to live by but her lodgings: So, she's forced to let her fore-rooms out to others, and herself contented to lie backwards.  2. judg. 
So.  1. judg. 
Here is no evidence accuses you,  
For accessaries to the murder; yet  
Since from the Spring of lust which you preserved;  
And nourished; ran th' effusion of that blood:  
Your punishment shall come as near to death.  
As life can bear it. Law cannot inflict  
Too much severity upon the cause  
Of such abhorred effects.  2. judg. 
Receive your sentence.  
Your goods (since they were gotten by that means,  
Which brings diseases;) shall be turned to th'use  
Of Hospitals. You carted through the Streets;  
According to the common shame of Strumpets,  
Your bodies whipped till with the loss of blood,  
You faint under the hand of punishment.  
Then that the necessary force of want,  
May not provoke you to your former life;  
You shall be set to painful labour; whose  
Penurious gains shall only give you food  
To hold up Nature; mortify your flesh;  
And make you fit for a repentant end.  All. 
O good my Lord!  1. Iud. 
No more; away with 'em.  — Exeunt. Enter Languebeau snuff. 2. judg. 
Now Monsieur Snuff! A man of your profession, found in a place of such impiety?  Snuff. 
I grant you. The place is full of impurity. So much the more need of instruction and reformation. The purpose that carried me thither, was with the Spirit of conversion to purify their uncleanness; and I hope your Lordship will say, the law cannot take hold o' me for that.  1. judg. 
No Sir; it cannot: but yet give me leave  
To tell you, that I hold your wary answer,  
Rather premeditated for excuse;  
Then spoken out of a religious purpose.  
Where took you your degrees of Scholarship?  Snuff. 
I am no Scholar my Lord. To speak the sincere truth, I am Snuff the Tallow-Chandler.  2. judg. 
How comes your habit to be altered thus?  Snuff. 
My Lord Belforest taking a delight in the cleanness of my conversation; withdrew me from that unclean life, and put me in a garment fit for his society and my present profession.  1. judg. 
His Lordship did but paint a rotten post;  
Or cover foulness fairly. Monsieur Snuff!  
Back to your candle-making. You may give  
The world more light with that, then either with  
Instruction or th'example of your life.  Snuff. 
Thus the Snuff is put out.  — Exit snuff. Enter D'amville distractedly with the hearses of his two Sons borne after him. D'am. 
judgement; judgement.  2. Iud. 
judgement my Lord? in what?  D'am. 
Your judgements must resolve me in a case. Bring in the bodies. Nay; I will ha''t tried. This is the case my Lord. My providence, e'en in a moment; by the only hurt of one, or two, or three, at most: and those put quickly out o' pain too, mark me; I had wisely raised a competent estate to my posterity. And is there not more wisdom and more charity in that; then for your Lordship, or your Father, or your Grandsire, to prolong the torment, and the rack of rent from age to age, upon your poor penurious Tenants? yet (perhaps) without a penny profit to your heir. Is't not more wiser more charitable? Speak.  1. Iud. 
He is distracted.  D'am. 
How? distracted? Then you ha' no judgement. I can give you sense and solid reason for the very least distinguishable syllable I speak. Since my thrist was more judicious than your Grandsires; why, I would fain know why your Lordship lives to make a second generation from your Father, and the your Father; and the whole fry of my posterity extinguished in a moment. Not a Brat left to succeed me.— I would fain know that.  2. judg. 
Grief for his children's death distempers him.  1. judg. 
My Lord; we will resolve you of your question.  
In the mean time vouchsafe your place with us.  D'am. 
I am contented, so you will resolve me.  — Ascends. Enter Charlemont and Castabella. 2. judg. 
Now Monsieur Charlemont. You are accused  
Of having murdered one Borachio, that  
Was servant to my Lord D'amville. How can  
You clear yourself? guilty? or not guilty?  Charl. 
Guilty of killing him; but not of murder.  
My Lords; I have no purpose to desire  
Remission for myself.— D'amville descends to Charl.  D'am. 
uncivil Boy! Thou want'st humanity to smile at grief. Why dost thou cast a cheerful eye upon the object of my sorrow? my dead Sons?  1. judg. 
O good my Lord! Let Charity forbear  
To vex the spirit of a dying Man.  
A cheerful eye upon the face of Death;  
Is the true countenance of a noble mind.  
For honour's sake (my Lord) molest it not.  D'am. 
You're all uncivil. O! is't not enough that he unjustly hath conspired with Fate, to cut off my posterity for him to be the heir to my possessions; but he must pursue me with his presence; and in the ostentation of his joy, laugh in my face, and glory in my grief?  Charl. 
D'amville! to show thee with what light respect,  
I value Death and thy insulting pride;  
Thus like a warlike Navy on the Sea,  
Bound for the conquest of some wealthy land,  
Passed through the stormy troubles of this life,  
And now arrived upon the armed coast;  
In expectation of the victory,  
Whose honour lies beyond this exigent;  
Through mortal danger with an active spirit,  
Thus I aspire to undergo my death.  Leaps up the Scaffold. Castabella leaps after him. Casta. 
And thus I second thy brave enterprise.  
Be cheerful Charlemont. Our lives cut off,  
In our young prime of years; are like green herbs,  
Wherewith we strew the hearses of our friends.  
For as their virtue gathered when theyare green,  
Before they wither or corrupt, is best;  
So we in virtue are the best for Death,  
While yet we have not lived to such an age,  
That the increasing canker of our sins,  
Hath spread too far upon us.—  D'am. 
A Boon, my Lords. I beg a Boon.  1. Iud. 
What's that my Lord?  D'am. 
His body when 'tis dead for an Anatomy.  2. Iud. 
For what my Lord?  D'am. 
Your understanding still come short o'mine.  
I would find out by his Anatomy;  
What thing there is in Nature more exact,  
Then in the constitution of myself.  
methinks, my parts, and my dimensions, are  
As many, as large, as well composed as his;  
And yet in me the resolution wants,  
To die with that assurance as he does.  
The cause of that, in his Anatomy  
I would find out.—  1. Iud. 
Be patient and you shall.  D'am. 
I have bethought me of a better way.— Nephew; we must confer.— Sir; I am grown a wondrous Student now o'late. My wit has reached beyond the scope of Nature; yet for all my learning I am still to seek, from whence the peace of conscience should proceed.  Charl. 
The peace of conscience rises in itself.  D'am. 
Whether it be thy Art or Nature, I admire thee Charlemont. Why; thou hast taught a woman to be valiant. I will beg thy life.— My Lords! I beg my nephews life.— I'll make thee my Physician. Thou shalt read Philosophy to me. I will find out th'efficient cause of a contented mind. But if I cannot profit in't; then 'tis no more being my Physician, but infuse a little poison in a potion when thou giv'st me Physic; unawares to me. So I shall steal into my grave without the understanding or the fear of death. And that's the end I aim at. For the thought of death is a most fearful torment; is't not?  2. judg. 
Your Lordship interrupts the course of law.  1. judg. 
Prepare to die.  Charl. 
My resolution's made.  
But ere I die; before this honoured bench;  
With the free voice of a departing soul,  
I here protest this Gentlewoman clear,  
Of all offence the law condemns her for.  Casta. 
I have accused myself. The law wants power  
To clear me. My dear Charlemont; with thee  
I will partake of all thy punishments.  Charl. 
Uncle; for all the wealthy benefits;  
My death advances you, grant me but this.  
Your mediation for the guiltless life  
Of Castabella; whom your conscience knows  
As justly clear as harmless innocence.  D'am. 
Freely. My Mediation for her life; and all my interest in the world to boot, let her but in exchange possess me of the resolution that she dies withal.— The price of things is best known in their want. Had I her courage; So I value it, the Indies should not buy't out o'my hands.  Charl. 
Give me a glass of water.  D'am. 
Me, of wine.—  
This argument of death congeals my blood.  
Cold fear with apprehension of thy end,  
Hath frozen up the rivers of my veins.—  A glass of wine. 
I must drink wine to warm me, and dissolve the obstruction, or an apoplexy will possess me.— Why thou uncharitable Knave; Dost bring me blood to drink? The very glass looks pale and trembles at it.  Seru. 
'tis your hand my Lord.  D'am. 
Canst blame me to be fearful; bearing still the presence of a murderer about me?  Charl. 
Is this water?  Serua. 
Water Sir.  — A glass of water. Charl. 
Come thou clear emblem of cool temperance.  
Be thou my witness, that I use no art  
To force my courage; nor have need of helps,  
To raise my Spirits like those weaker men;  
Who mix their blood with wine, and out of that  
Adulterate conjunction do beget  
A bastard valour. Native courage, thanks.  
Thou leadest me soberly to undertake  
This great hard work of magnanimity.  D'am 
Brave Charlemont! at the reflection of thy courage my cold fearful blood takes fire, and I begin to emulate thy death.— Is that thy executioner? My Lords; you wrong the honour of so high a blood, to let him suffer by so base a hand.  Judges. 
He suffers by the form of law my Lord.  D'am. 
I will reform it. Down you shag-haired Cur. The instrument that strikes my Nephew's blood, shall be as noble as his blood. I'll be thy executioner myself.  1. Iud. 
Restrain his fury. Good my Lord forbear.  D'am. 
I'll butcher out the passage of his soul,  
That dares attempt to interrupt the blow.  2. Iud. 
My Lord; the office will impress a mark  
Of scandal and dishonour on your name.  Charl. 
The office fits him; hinder not his hand.  
But let him crown my resolution, with  
An unexampled dignity of death.  
Strike home. Thus I submit me.  — Ready for execution. Costa. 
So do I.  
In scorn of Death thus hand in hand we die.  D'am. 
I ha' the trick on't Nephew. You shall see how easily  
I can put you out of pain.— oh.  As he raises up the Axe, strikes out his own brains. Staggers off the Scaffold. Execu. 
In lifting up the Axe  
I think has knocked his brains out.—  D'am. 
What murderer was he that lifted up my hand against my head?  judge. 
None but yourself my Lord.  D'am. 
I thought he was a murderer that did it.  judge. 
God forbid.  D'am. 
Forbid? You lie judge. He commanded it. To tell thee that man's wisdom is a fool. I came to thee for judgement; and thou think'st thyself a wise man. I outreached thy wit; and made thy justice Murders instrument, in Castabella's death and Charlemont's. To crown my Murder of Montferrers with a safe possession of his wealthy state.—  Charl. 
I claim the just advantage of his words.  judge. 
Descend the Scaffold and attend the rest.  D'am. 
There was the strength of natural understanding. But Nature is a fool. There is a power above her that hath overthrown the pride of all my projects and posterity; (for whose surviving blood, I had erected a proud monument) and struck 'em dead before me. For whose deaths, I called to thee for judgement. Thou didst want discretion for the sentence. But yond power that struck me, knew the judgement I deserved; and gave it.— O! the lust of Death commits a Rape upon me as I would ha'done on Castabella.—  — Dies. judge. 
Strange is his death and judgement. With the hands  
Of joy and justice I thus set you free.  
The power of that eternal providence,  
Which overthrew his projects in their pride;  
Hath made your griefs the instruments to raise  
Your blessings to a greater height than ever.  Charl. 
Only to Heaven I attribute the work.  
Whose gracious motives made me still forbear  
To be mine own Revenger. Now I see,  
That, Patience is the honest man's revenge.  judge. 
In stead of Charlemont that but e'en now  
Stood ready to be dispossessed of all;  
I now salute you with more titles, both  
Of wealth and dignity than you were borne too.  
And you (sweet madam) Lady of Belforest  
You have that title by your Father's death.  Casta. 
With all the titles due to me; increase  
The wealth and honour of my Charlemont.  
Lord of Montferrers; Lord D'amville; Belforest.  
And for a close to make up all the rest;—  Embrace 
The Lord of Castabella. Now at last  
Enjoy the full possession of my love;  
As clear and pure as my first chastity.  Charl. 
The crown of all my blessings!— I will tempt  
My Stars no longer; nor protract my time  
Of marriage. When those Nuptial rites are done;  
I will perform my kinsmen's funerals.  judg. 
The Drums and Trumpets! Interchange the sounds  
Of Death and Triumph; for these honoured lives,  
Succeeding their deserved Tragedies.  Charl. 
Thus by the work of Heaven, the men that thought  
To follow our dead bodies without tears,  
Are dead themselves, and now we follow theirs.  — Exeunt. 
FINIS.