THE REVENGERS tragedy. As it hath been sundry times Acted, by the king's majesties Servants.  
AT LONDON Printed by G. ELD, and are to be fold at his house in Fleet-lane at the sign of the Printers-press. 1607.   

The Revengers tragedy.  
ACT. 1. SCAE. 1.  Enter Vendici, the Duke, Duchess, Lusurioso her son, Spurio the bastard, with a train, pass over the Stage with Torchlight. Vindi. 
duke: royal lecher; go, grey haired adultery,  
And thou his son as impious steeped as he:  
And thou his bastard true-begot in evil:  
And thou his Duchess that will do with Devil,  
four exc'llent Characters— O that marrowless age,  
Would stuff the hollow Bones with damned desires,  
And stead of heat kindle infernal fires,  
Within the spendthrift veins of a dry Duke,  
A parched and juiceless luxur. O God! one  
That has scarce blood enough to live upon.  
And he to ryct it like a son and heir?  
O the thought of that  
Turns my abused heartstrings into fret.  
Thou sallow picture of my poisoned love,  
My study's ornament, thou shell of Death,  
Once the bright face of my betrothed Lady,  
When life and beauty naturally filled out  
These ragged imperfections;  
When two-heaven-pointed Diamonds were set  
In those unsightly Rings;— then 'twas a face  
So far beyond the artificial shine  
Of any woman's bought complexion  
That the uprightest man, (if such there be,  
That sin but seven times a day) broke custom  
And made up eight with looking after her,  
Oh she was able to ha' made a usurers son  
Melt all his patrimony in a kiss,  
And what his father fifty years told  
To have consumed, and yet his suit been cold:  
But oh accursed Palace!  
Thee when thou wert apparelled in thy flesh,  
The old Duke poisoned,  
Because thy purer part would not consent  
Unto his palsy-lust, for old men lustful  
Do show like young men angry, eager violent,  
Outbid like their limited performances  
O ware an old man hot, and vicious  
Age as in gold in lust is covetous.  
Vengeance thou murders Quitrent, and whereby  
Thou showst thyself Tenant to Tragedy,  
Oh keep thy day, hour, minute, I beseech,  
For those thou hast determined: hum: who ere knew  
Murder unpaid, faith give Revenge her due  
Sha's kept touch hitherto— be merry, merry,  
Advance thee, O thou terror to fat folks  
To have their Costly three-piled flesh worn of  
As bare as this— for banquets: ease and laughter,  
Can make great men as greatness goes by clay,  
But wise men little are more great than they?  Enter her brother Hippolito. Hip. 
Still sighing over death's vizard.  Vind. 
Brother welcome,  
What comfort bringst thou? how go things at Court?  Hip. 
In silk and silver brother: never braver.  Vind. 
Puh,  
Thou play'st upon my meaning prithee say  
Has that bald Madam, Opportunity?  
Yet thought upon's, speak are we happy yet?  
Thy wrongs and mine are for one scabbard fit.  Hip. 
It may prove happiness?  Vind. 
What be't may prove?  
Give me to taste.  Hip. 
Give me your hearing then,  
You know my place at Court.  Vind. 
I; the Duke's Chamber  
But 'tis a marvel thou'rt not turned out yet!  Hip. 
Faith I have been shooud at, but 'twas still my hap  
To hold byth' Duchess skirt, you guess at that,  
Whom such a Coat keeps up can near fall flat,  
But to the purpose.  
Last evening predecessor unto this,  
The Duke's son warily enquired for me,  
Whose pleasure I attended: he began,  
By policy to open and unhusk me  
About the time and common rumour:  
But I had so much wit to keep my thoughts  
Up in their built houses, yet afforded him  
An idle satisfaction without danger,  
But the whole aim, and scope of his intent  
Ended in this, conjuring me in private,  
To seek some strange digested fellow forth:  
Of ill-contented nature, either disgraced  
In former times, or by new grooms displaced,  
Since his stepmothers nuptials, such a blood  
A man that were for evil only good;  
To give you the true word some base coined Pander?  Vind. 
I reach you, for I know his heat is such,  
Were there as many Concubines as Ladies  
He would not be contained, he must fly out:  
I wonder how ill featured, wild proportioned.  
That one should be: if she were made for woman,  
Whom at the Insurrection of his lust  
He would refuse for once, heart, I think none,  
Next to a skull, though more unsound than one  
Each face he meets he strongly dotes upon.  Hip. 
Brother you'ave truly spoke him?  
He knows not you, but I'll swear you know him.  Vind. 
And therefore i'll put on that knave for once,  
And be a right man then, a man a'th' Time,  
For to be honest is not to be i'th' world,  
Brother i'll be that strange composed fellow.  Hip. 
And i'll prefer you brother.  Vind. 
Go to then,  
The small'st advantage fattens wronged men  
It may point out, occasion, if I meet her,  
I'll hold her by the foretop fast enough;  
Or like the French mole heave up hair and all,  
I have a habit that will fit it quaintly,  
Here comes our Mother.  Hip. 
And Sister.  Vind. 
We must quoin.  
Women are apt you know to take false money,  
But I dare stake my soul for these two creatures  
Only excuse excepted that they'll swallow,  
Because their sex is easy in belief.  Moth. 
What news from Cour son Carlo?  Hip. 
Faith Mother,  
'tis whispered there the Duchess youngest son  
Has played a Rape on Lord Antonio's wife.  Moth. 
On that religious Lady!  Cast. 
Royal blood: monster he deserves to die,  
If Italy had no more hopes but he.  Vin. 
Sister you'ave sentenced most direct, and true,  
The Laws a woman, and would she were you:  
Mother I must take leave of you.  Moth. 
Leave for what?  Vin. 
I Intend speedy travail.  Hip. 
That he does Madam.  Mo. 
Speedy indeed!  Vind. 
For since my worthy father's funeral,  
My life's unnaturally to me, e'en compelled  
As if I hued now when I should be dead.  Mot. 
Indeed he was a worthy Gentleman  
Had his estate been fellow to his mind.  Vind. 
The Duke did much deject him.  Moth. 
Much?  Vind. 
too much.  
And through disgrace oft smothered in his spirit,  
When it would mount, surely I think he died  
Of discontent: the Nobleman's consumption.  Moth. 
Most sure he did!  Vind. 
Did he? lack,— you know all  
You were his midnight secretary.  Moth. 
No.  
He was too wise to trust me with his thoughts.  Vind. 
I'faith then father thou wast wise indeed,  
Wives are but made to go to bed and feed.  
Come mother, sister: you'll bring me onward brother?  Hip. 
I will.  Vind. 
I'll quickly turn into another.  Exeunt. Enter the old Duke, Lussiurioso, his son, the Duchess; the Bastard, the Duchess two sons Ambitioso, and Superuacuo, the third her youngest brought out with Officers for the Rape two judges. Duke. 
duchess it is your youngest son, we're sorry,  
His violent Act has e'en drawn blood of honour  
And stained our honours,  
Thrown ink upon the forehead of our state  
Which envious spirits will dip their pens into  
After our death; and blot us in our Tombs.  
For that which would seem treason in our lives  
Is laughter when we're dead, who dares now whisper  
That dares not then speak out, and e'en proclaim,  
With loud words and broad pens our closest shame.  Iud. 
Your grace hath spoke like to your silver years  
Full of confirmed gravity;— for what is it to have,  
A flattering false insculption on a Tomb:  
And in men's hearts reproach, the bowelled Corpse,  
May be seared in, but with free tongue I speak,  
The faults of great men through their fierce clothes break,  Duk. 
They do, we're sorry for't, it is our fate,  
To live in fear and die to live in hate,  
I leave him to your sentence doom him Lords  
The fact is great; whilst I sit by and sigh.  Duch. 
My gracious Lord I pray be merciful,  
Although his trespass far exceed his years,  
Think him to be your own as I am yours,  
Call him not son in law: the law I fear  
Will fall too soon upon his name and him:  
Temper his fault with pity?  Luss. 
Good my Lord.  
Then 'twill not taste so bitter and unpleasant  
Upon the judges palate, for offences  
Gilt over with mercy, show like fairest women,  
Good only for their beauties, which washed of: no sin is ouglies Ambitis I beseech your grace,  
Be soft and mild, let not Relentless Law,  
Look with an iron forehead on our brother.  Spu. 
He yields small comfort yet, hope he shall die,  
And if a bastard's wish might stand in force,  
Would all the court were turn de into a corpse,  Duc, 
No pity yet? must I rise fruitless then,  
A wonder in a woman; are my knees,  
Of such low— metal— that without Respect—  1. judg. 
Let the offender stand forth,  
'tis the Duke's pleasure that Impartial Doom,  
Shall take first hold of his unclean attempt,  
A Rape! why 'tis the very core of lust,  
Double Adultery.  Iuni. 
So Sir.  2. Iud. 
And which was worse,  
Committed on the Lord Antonio's wife,  
That General honest Lady, confess my Lord!  
What moved you to't?  Iuni. 
why flesh and blood my Lord.  
What should move men unto a woman else,  Luss. 
O do not jest thy doom, trust not an axe  
Or sword too far; the Law is a wise serpent  
And quickly can beguile thee of thy life,  
Though marriage only has made thee my brother,  
I love thee so far, play not with thy Death,  Iuni. 
I thank you troth, good admonitions faith,  
If the grace now to make use of them,  1. Iud. 
That ladies name has spread such a fair wing  
Over all Italy; that if our tongues,  
Were sparing toward the Fact, judgement itself,  
Would be condemned and suffer in men's thoughts,  Iuni. 
Well then 'tis done, and it would please me well  
Were it to do again: sure she's a Goddess,  
For i'd no power to see her, and to live,  
It falls out true in this for I must die,  
Her beauty was ordained to be my scaffold,  
And yet methinks I might be easier ceased,  
My fault being sport, let me but die in jest,  1. Iud. 
This be the sentence,  Dut. 
O kept upon your Tongue, let it not slip,  
Death too soon steals out of a lawyer's lip,  
Be not so cruel-wise?  1. judg. 
Your Grace must pardon us,  
'Tis but the justice of the Law.  Dut. 
The Law,  
Is grown more subtle than a woman should be.  Spu. 
Now, now he dies, rid 'em away.  Dut. 
O what it is to have an old-cool Duke,  
To be as slack in tongue, as in performance.  1. judg. 
confirmed, this be the doom irrevocable.  Dut. 
Oh!  1. judg. 
Tomorrow early.  Dut. 
Pray be a-bed my Lord.  1. judg. 
Your Grace much wrongs yourself.  Ambi. 
No 'tis that tongue,  
Your too much right, does do us too much wrong.  1. judg. 
Let that offender—  Dut. 
Live, and be in health.  1. Iud 
Be on a Scaffold  Duk. 
Hold, hold, my Lord.  Spu. 
Pax on't,  
What makes my Dad speak now?  Duke. 
We will defer the judgement till next sitting,  
In the mean time let him be kept close prisoner:  
Guard bear him hence.  Ambi. 
Brother, this makes for thee,  
Fear not, we'll have a trick to set thee free.  Iuni. 
Brother, I will expect it from you both; and in that hope I rest.  Super. 
Farewell, be merry.  Exit with a guard. Spu. 
Delayed, deferred nay than if judgement have cold blood,  
Flattery and bribes will kill it.  Duke. 
About it then my Lords with your best powers,  
More serious business calls upon our homes.  Exe. manet Du. Dut. 
Wast ever known step-duchess was so mild,  
And calm as I? some now would plot his death,  
With easy Doctors, those loose living men,  
And make his withered Grace fall to his Grave,  
And keep Church better?  
Some second wife would do this, and dispatch  
Her double loathed Lord at meat and sleep,  
Indeed 'tis true an old man's twice a child,  
Mine cannot speak, one of his single words,  
Would quite have freed my youngest dearest son  
From death or durance, and have made him walk  
With a bold foot upon the thorny law,  
Whose Prickles should bow under him, but 'tis not,  
And therefore wedlock faith shall be forgot,  
I'll kill him in his forehead, hate there feed,  
That wound is deepest though it never bleed:  
And here comes he whom my heart points unto,  
His bastard son, but my loves true-begot,  
Many a wealthy letter have I sent him,  
Swelled up with jewels, and the timorous man  
Is yet but coldly kind,  
That jewel's mine that quivers in his ear,  
Mocking his masters chillness and vain fear,  
Has spied me now.  Spu. 
madam? your Grace so private.  
My duty on your hand.  Dut. 
Upon my hand sir, troth I think you'd fear,  
To kiss my hand too if my lip stood there,  Spi. 
Witness I would not Madam.  Dut. 
'tis a wonder,  
For ceremony has made many fools,  
It is as easy way unto a Duchess,  
As to a Hatted-dame, (if her love answer)  
But that by timorous honours, pale respects,  
Idle degrees of fear, men make their ways  
Hard of themselves— what have you thought of me?  Spi. 
Madam I ever think of you, in duty,  
Regard and—  Dut. 
Puh, upon my love I mean.  Spu. 
I would 'twere love, but 'tus a fouler name  
Than lust; you are my father's wife, your Grace may guess now,  
What I could call it.  Dut. 
Why thouart his son but falsely,  
'tis a hard question whether he begot thee.  Spu. 
i'faith 'tis true too; I'm an uncertain man,  
Of more uncertain woman; may be his groom o'th' stable begot me, you know I know not, he could ride a horse well, a shroud suspicion marry— he was wondrous tall, he had his length i'faith, for peeping over half shut holiday windows,  
Men would desire him light, when he was a foot,  
He made a goodly show under a Penthouse,  
And when he rid, his Hat would check the signs, and clatter  
barber's basins.  Dut. 
Nay set you a horse back once,  
You'll near light off.  Spu. 
Indeed I am a beggar.  Dut. 
That's more the sign thouart Great— but to our love.  
Let it stand firm both in thought and mind,  
That the Duke was thy Father, as no doubt then  
He bid fair for't, thy injury is the more,  
For had he cut thee a right Diamond,  
Thou hadst been next set in the dukedom's Ring,  
When his worn self like Ages easy slave,  
Had dropped out of the Collet into th' Grave;  
What wrong can equal this? canst thou be tame  
And think upon't.  Spu. 
No mad and think upon't.  Dut. 
Who would not be revenged of such a father,  
E'en in the worst way? I would thank that sin,  
That could most injury him, and be in league with it,  
Oh what a grief 'tis, that a man should live  
But once i'th' world, and then to live a Bastard,  
The curse a'the womb, the thief of Nature,  
Begot against the seventh commandment,  
Half damned in the conception, by the justice  
Of that unbribed everlasting law.  Spu. 
Oh I'd a hot-backed Devil to my father.  Dut. 
Would not this mad e'en patience, make blood rough?  
Who but an Eunuch would not sin? his bed  
By one false minute disinherited.  Spi. 
ay, there's the vengeance that my birth was wrapped in,  
I'll be revenged for all, now hate begin,  
I'll call foul Incest but a Venial sin.  Dut. 
Cold still: in vain then must a Duchess woo?  Spu. 
Madam I blush to say what I will do.  Dut. 
Thence flew sweet comfort, earnest and farewell.  Spu. 
Oh one incestuous kiss picks open hell.  Dut. 
Faith now old Duke; my vengeance shall reach high,  
I'll arm thy brow with woman's Heraldry.  Exit. Spu. 
Duke, thou didst do me wrong, and by thy Act  
Adultery is my nature;  
Faith if the truth were known, I was begot  
After some gluttonous dinner, some stirring dish  
Was my first father; when deep healths went round,  
And ladies' cheeks were painted red with Wine,  
Their tongues as short and nimble as their heels  
Uttering words sweet and thick; and when they rise,  
Were merrily disposed to fall again,  
In such a whispering and withdrawing hour,  
When base-male-Bawds kept sentinel at stairhead  
Was I stolen softly; oh— damnation met  
The sin of feasts, drunken adultery.  
I feel it swell me; my revenge is just,  
I was begot in impudent Wine and Lust:  
Stepmother I consent to thy desires,  
I love thy mischief well, but I hate thee,  
And those three Cubs thy sons, wishing confusion  
Death and disgrace may be their Epitaphs,  
As for my brother the Duke's only son,  
Whose birth is more beholding to report  
Than mine, and yet perhaps as falsely sown.  
(Women must not be trusted with their own)  
I'll lose my days upon him hate all I,  
Duke on thy brow I'll draw my Bastardy.  
For indeed a bastard by nature should make Cuckolds,  
Because he is the son of a Cuckold-maker.  Exit. Enter Vindici and Hippolito, Vindici in disguise to attend L. Lussurioso the Duke's son. Vind. 
What brother? am I far enough from myself?  Hip. 
As if another man had been sent whole  
Into the world, and none wist how he came.  Vind. 
It will confirm me bold: the child o' th' Court,  
Let blushes dwell i'th' Country impudence!  
Thou Goddess of the palace, mistress of Mistresses  
To whom the costly perfumed-people pray,  
Strike thou my forehead into dauntless Marble;  
Mine eyes to steady sapphires: turn my visage,  
And if I must needs glow, let me blush inward  
That this immodest season may not spy,  
That scholar in my cheeks, fool bashfulness.  
That Maid in the old time, whose flush of Grace  
Would never suffer her to get good clothes;  
Our maids are wiser; and are less ashamed,  
Save Grace the bawd I seldom hear Grace named!  Hip. 
Nay brother you reach out a'th' Verge now,— 'sfoot the Duke's son, settle your looks.  Vind. 
Pray let me not be doubted.  Hip. 
My Lord—  Luss. 
Hipolito?— be absent leave us.  Hip. 
My Lord after long search, wary inquiries  
And politic siftings, I made choice of yond fellow,  
Whom I guess rare for many deep employments;  
This our age swims within him: and if Time  
Had so much hair, I should take him for Time,  
He is so near kin to this present minute?  Luss. 
'tis enough.  
We thank thee: yet words are but great-men's blanks  
Gold though it be dumb does utter the best thanks.  Hip. 
Your plenteous honour— an exc'llent fellow my Lord.  Luss. 
So, give us leave— welcome, be not far off, we must be better acquainted, push, be bold with us, thy hand:  Vind. 
With all my heart i'faith how dost sweet Musk-cat.  
When shall we lie together?  Luss. 
Wondrous knave!  
Gather him into boldness, 'sfoot the slave's  
Already as familiar as an Ague,  
And shakes me at his pleasure, friend I can  
Forget myself in private, but else where,  
I pray do you remember me.  Vind. 
Oh very well sir— I construe myself saucy!  Luss. 
What hast been,  
Of what profession.  Vind. 
A bonesetter!  Luss. 
A bonesetter!  Vind. 
A bawd my Lord,  
One that sets bones together.  Luss. 
Notable bluntness?  
Fit, fit for me, e'en trained up to my hand  
Thou hast been Scrivener too much knavery then.  Vind. 
Fool, to abundance sir; I have been witness  
To the surrenders of a thousand virgins,  
And not so little,  
I have seen Patrimonies washed a pieces  
Fruit-fields turned into bastards,  
And in a world of Acres,  
Not so much dust due to the heir 'twas left too  
As would well gravel a petition  Luss. 
Fine villain? troth I like him wondrously  
he's e'en shaped for my purpose, than thou know'st  
Ith' world strange lust.  Vind. 
O Dutch lust! fulsome lust!  
Drunken procreation, which begets, so many drunkards;  
Some father dreads not (gone to bed in wine) to slide from the mother,  
And cling the daughter-in-law,  
Some uncles are adulterous with their Nieces,  
Brothers with brother's wives, O hour of Incest!  
Any kin now next to the Rim ath sister  
Is man's meat in these days, and in the morning  
When they are up and dressed, and their mask on,  
Who can perceive this? save that eternal eye  
That see's through flesh and all, well:— If any thing be damned?  
It will be twelve o'clock at night; that twelve  
Will never scape;  
It is the judas of the hours; wherein,  
Honest salvation is betrayed to sin,  Luss. 
Introth it is too? but let this talk glide  
It is our blood to err, though hell gaped loud  
Ladies know Lucifer fell, yet still are proud!  
Now sir? wert thou as secret as thou'rt subtle,  
And deeply fathomed into all estates  
I would embrace thee for a near employment,  
And thou shouldst swell in money, and be able  
To make lame beggars crouch to thee.  Vind. 
My Lord?  
Secret? I near had that disease ath mother  
I praise my father: why are men made close?  
But to keep thoughts in best, I grant you this  
Tell but some woman a secret over night,  
Your doctor may find it in the urinal i'th' morning,  
But my Lord.  Luss. 
So, thou'rt confirmed in me  
And thus I enter thee.  Vind. 
This Indian devil,  
Will quickly enter any man: but a Usurer,  
He prevents that, by entering the devil first.  Luss. 
Attend me, I am past my depth in lust  
And I must swim or drown, all my desires  
Are leveled at a Virgin not far from Court,  
To whom I have conveyed by Messenger  
Many waxed Lines, full of my neatest spirit,  
And jewels that were able to ravish her  
Without the help of man; all which and more  
She foolish chaste sent back, the messengers,  
Receiving frowns for answers.  Vind. 
Possible!  
'tis a rare Phoenix who ere she be,  
If your desires be such, she so repugnant,  
In troth my Lord i'd be revenged and marry her.  Luss. 
Push; the dowry of her blood & of her fortunes,  
Are both too mean,— good enough to be bad withal  
I'm one of that number can defend  
Marriage is good: yet rather keep a friend,  
Give me my bed by stealth— there's true delight  
What breeds a loathing in't, but night by night.  Vind. 
A very fine religion?  Luss. 
Therefore thus,  
He trust thee in the business of my heart  
Because I see thee well experienced  
In this Luxurious day wherein we breath,  
Go thou, and with a smooth enchanting tongue  
Bewitch her ears, and Cousin her of all Grace  
Enter upon the portion of her soul,  
Her honour, which she calls her chastity  
And bring it into expense, for honesty  
Is like a stock of money laid to sleep,  
Which near so little broke, does never keep:  Vind. 
You have gint the Tang i'faith my Lord  
Make known the Lady to me, and my brain,  
Shall swell with strange Invention: I will move it  
Till I expire with speaking, and drop down  
Without a word to save me;— but I'll work—  Luss. 
We thank thee, and will raise thee:— receive her name, it is the only daughter, to madam Gratiana the late widow  Vind. 
Oh, my sister, my sister?—  Luss. 
Why dost walk aside?  Vind. 
My Lord, I was thinking how I might begin  
As thus, oh Lady— or twenty hundred devices,  
Her very bodkin will put a man in.  Luss. 
ay, or the wagging of her hair.  Vind 
No, that shall put you in my Lord.  Luss. 
Shalt? why content, dost know the daughter then?  Vind. 
O exc'llent well by sight.  Luss. 
That was her brother  
That did prefer thee to us.  Vind. 
My Lord I think so,  
I knew I had seen him somewhere—  Luss. 
And therefore prithee let thy heart to him,  
Be as a Virgin, close.  Vind. 
Oh me good Lord.  Luss. 
We may laugh at that simple age within him;  Vind. 
Ha, ha, ha.  Luss. 
Himself being made the subtle instrument,  
To wind up a good fellow.  Vind. 
That's I my Lord.  Luss. 
That's thou.  
To entice and work his sister.  Vind. 
A pure novice?  Luss. 
'twas finely managed.  Vind. 
Gallantly carried;  
A pretty-perfumed villain.  Luss. 
I've bethought me  
If she prove chaste still and immovable,  
Venture upon the Mother, and with gifts  
As I will furnish thee, begin with her.  Vin. 
Oh fie, fie, that's the wrong end my Lord. 'tis mere impossible that a mother by any gifts should become a bawd to her own Daughter!  Luss. 
Nay then I see thou'rt but a puny in the subtle Mystery of a woman:— why 'tis held now no dainty dish: The name  
Is so in league with age, that now adays  
It does Eclipse three quarters of a Mother;  Vind. 
Dost so my Lord?  
Let me alone then to Eclipse the fourth.  Luss. 
Why well said, come i'll furnish thee, but first swear to be true in all.  Vind. 
True?  Luss. 
Nay but swear!  Vind. 
Swear?— I hope your honour little doubts my faith.  Luss. 
Yet for my humour's sake cause I love swearing.  Vind. 
'cause you love swearing, 'slud I will.  Luss. 
Why enough,  
Erelong look to be made of better stuff.  Vind. 
That will do well indeed my Lord.  Luss. 
Attend me?  Vind. 
Oh.  
Now let me burst, I've eaten Noble poison,  
We are made strange fellows, brother, innocent villains,  
Wilt not be angry when thou hearst on't, thinkst thou?  
i'faith thou shalt; swear me to foul my sister.  
Sword I durst make a promise of him to thee,  
Thou shalt dis-heir him, it shall be thine honour,  
And yet now angry froth is down in me,  
It would not prove the meanest policy  
In this disguise to try the faith of both,  
Another might have had the self same office,  
Some slave, that would have wrought effectually,  
I and perhaps o'erwrought 'em, therefore I,  
Being thought travailed, will apply myself,  
Unto the self same form, forget my nature,  
As if no part about me were kin to 'em,  
So touch 'em,— though I durst a most for good,  
Venture my lands in heaven upon their good.  Exit. Enter the discontented Lord Antonio, whose wife the duchess's youngest Son ravished he Discovering the body of her dead to certain Lords: and Hippolito. L. Ant. 
Draw nearer Lords and be sad witnesses  
Of a fair comely building newly fallen,  
Being falsely undermined: violent rape  
Has played a glorious act, behold my Lords  
A sight that strikes man out of me:  Piero 
That virtuous Lady  Ant. 
precedent for wives?  Hip. 
The blush of many women, whose chaste presence,  
Would e'en call shame up to their cheeks,  
And make pale wanton sinners have good colours.—  L. Ant. 
Dead!  
Her honour first drunk poison, and her life,  
Being fellows in one house did pledge her honour,  Pier. 
O grief of many!  L. Anto. 
I marked not this before.  
A prayer Book the pillow to her cheek,  
This was her rich confection, and another  
plastered in her right hand, with a leaf tucked up,  
Pointing to these words.  
Melius virtute mori, Quam per Dedecus vivere.  
True and effectual it is indeed.  Hip. 
My Lord since you invite us to your sorrows,  
Let's truly taste'em, that with equal comfort,  
As to ourselves we may relieve your wrongs,  
We have grief too, that yet walks without tongue,  
Curaeleves loquuntur, Maiores stupent.  L. Ant. 
You deal with truth my Lord.  
Lend me but your Attentions, and I'll cut  
Long grief into short words: last reveling night.  
When Torchlight made an artificial noon  
About the Court, some Courtiers in the mask,  
Putting on better faces than their own,  
Being full of fraud and flattery: amongst whom,  
The duchess's youngest son (that moth to honour)  
Filled up a Room; and with long lust to eat,  
Into my wearing; amongst all the Ladies,  
Singled out that dear form; whoever lived,  
As cold in Lust as she is now in death;  
(Which that step Duchess— Monster knew to well;)  
And therefore in the height of all the revels,  
When Music was hard loudest, Courtiers busiest,  
And Ladies great with laughter;— O Vicious minute!  
Unfit but for relation to be spoke of,  
Then with a face more impudent than his vizard  
He harried her amidst a throng of Panders,  
That live upon damnation of both kinds,  
And fed the ravenous vulture of his lust,  
(O death to think on't) she her honour forest,  
Deemed it a nobler dowry for her name,  
To die with poison then to live with shame.  Hip. 
A wondrous Lady; of rare fire compact,  
Sh'as made her name an Empress by that act,  Pier. 
My Lord what judgement follows the offender?  L. Ant 
Faith none my Lord it cools and is deferred,  Pier. 
Delay the doom for rape?  L. Ant, 
O you must note who 'tis should die,  
The Duchess son, she'll look to be a saver,  
judgement in this age is near kin to favour.  Hip. 
Nay then step forth thou bribeless officer;  
I bind you all in steel to bind you surely,  
here let your oaths meet, to be kept and paid,  
Which else will stick like rust, and shame the blade,  
Strengthen my vow, that if at the next sitting,  
judgement speak all in gold, and spare the blood  
Of such a serpent, e'en before their seats,  
To let his soul out, which long since was found,  
Guilty in heaven.  All. 
We swear it and will act it,  L. Anto. 
Kind Gentlemen, I thank you in mine Ire,  Hip. 
'twere pity?  
The ruins of so fair a Monument,  
sold not be dipped in the defacer's blood,  Piero. 
Her funeral shall be wealthy, for her name,  
Merits a tomb of pearl; my Lord Antonio,  
For this time wipe your Lady from your eyes,  
No doubt our grief and yours may one day court it,  
When we are more familiar with Revenge,  L. Anto. 
That is my comfort Gentlemen, and I joy,  
In this one happiness above the rest,  
Which will be called a miracle at last,  
That being an old— man I'd a wife so chaste.  Exeunt.  

ACTVS. 2. SCAE. 1.  Enter Castiza the sister. Cast. 
How hardly shall that maiden be beset,  
Whose only fortunes, are her constant thoughts,  
That has no other child-part but her honour,  
That Keeps her low; and empty in estate.  
Maids and their honours are like poor beginners,  
Were not sin rich there would be fewer sinners;  
Why had not virtue a revenue? well,  
I know the cause, 'twould have impoverished hell.  
How now Dondolo.  Don. Madonna, 
there is one as they say a thing of flesh and blood, a man I take him by his beard that would very desirously month to mouth with you.  Cast. 
What's that?  Don. 
Show his teeth in your company,  Cast. 
I understand thee not;  Don. 
Why speak with you Madonna!  Cast. 
Why say so madman, and cut of a great deal of dirty way; had it not been better spoke in ordinary words that one would speak with me.  Don. 
Ha, ha, that's as ordinary as two shillings, I would strive a little to show myself in my place, a Gentleman-usher scorns to use the Phrase and fancy of a servingman.  Cast. 
Yours be your one sir, go direct him hither,  
I hope some happy tidings from my brother,  
That lately travailed, whom my soul affects.  
Here he comes.  Enter Vindice her brother disguised. Vin. 
Lady the best of wishes to your sex.  
Fair skins and new gowns,  Cast. 
Oh they shall thank you sir,  
Whence this,  Vin. 
Oh from a dear and worthy friend, mighty!  Cast. 
From whom?  Vin. 
The Duke's son!  Cast. 
Receive that!  A box ath ear to her Brother. 
I swore I'd put anger in my hand,  
And pass the Virgin limits of myself,  
To him that next appeared in that base office,  
To be his sins Attorney, bear to him,  
That figure of my hate upon thy check  
Whilst 'tis yet hot, and I'll reward thee for't,  
Tell him my honour shall have a rich name,  
When several harlots shall share his with shame,  
Farewell commend me to him in my hate!  Exit. Vin. 
It is the sweetest Box,  
That ere my nose came nigh,  
The finest drawn-work cuff that ere was worn,  
I'll love this blow for ever, and this cheek  
Shall still hence forward take the wall of this.  
Oh I'm a 'bove my tongue: most constant sister,  
In this thou hast right honourable shown,  
Many are called by their honour that have none,  
Thou art approved for ever in my thoughts.  
It is not in the power of words to taint thee,  
And yet for the salvation of my oath,  
As my resolve in that point; I will lay,  
Hard siege unto my Mother, though I know,  
A siren's tongue could not bewitch her so.  
Mass fitly here she comes, thanks my disguise,  
madam good afternoon.  Moth. 
You're welcome sir?  Vind. 
The Next of Italy commends him to you,  
Our mighty expectation, the Duke's son.  Moth. 
I think myself much honoured, that he pleases,  
To tanck me in his thoughts.  Vind. 
So may you Lady:  
One that is like to be our sudden Duke,  
The Crown gapes for him every tide, and then  
Commander over us all, do but think on him,  
How blessed were they now that could pleasure him  
E'en with any thing almost.  Moth. 
ay, save their honour?  Vind. 
Tut, one would let a little of that go too  
And near be seen in't: near be seen it, mark you,  
I'd wink and let it go—  Moth. 
Marry but I would not.  Vind. 
Marry but I would I hope, I know you would too,  
If you'd that blood now which you gave your daughter,  
To her indeed 'tis, this wheel comes about,  
That man that must be all this, perhaps ere morning  
(For his white father does but mould away)  
Has long desired your daughter.  Moth. 
Desired?  Vind. 
Nay but he are me,  
He desires now that will command hereafter,  
Therefore be wise, I speak as more a friend  
To you then him; Madam, I know you're poor,  
And lack the day, there are too many poor Ladies already  
Why should you vex the number? 'tis despised,  
Live wealthy, rightly understand the world,  
And chide away that foolish— Country girl  
Keeps company with your daughter, chastity,  Moth. 
Oh fie, fie, the riches of the world cannot hire a mother to such a most unnatural task.  Vind. 
No, but a thousand Angels can,  
Men have no power, Angels must work you to't,  
The world descends into such base-born evils  
That forty Angels can make fourscore devils,  
There will be fools still I perceive, still fool.  
Would I be poor dejected, scorned of greatness,  
Swept from the Palace, and see other daughters  
Spring with the dew ath Court, having mine own  
So much desired and loved— by the Duke's son,  
No, I would raise my state upon her breast  
And call her eyes my Tenants, I would count  
My yearly maintenance upon her cheeks:  
Take Coach upon her lip, and all, her parts  
Should keep men after men, and I would ride,  
In pleasure upon pleasure:  
You took great pains for her, once when it was,  
Let her requite it now, though it be but some  
You brought her forth, she may well bring you home,  Moth. 
O heavens! this overcomes me?  Vind. 
Not I hope, already?  Moth. 
It is too strong for me, men know that know us,  
We are so weak their words can overthrow us,  
He touched me nearly made my virtues bate  
When his tongue struck upon my poor estate.  Vind. 
I e'en quake to proceed, my spirit turns edge?  
I fear me she's unmothered, yet i'll venture,  
That woman is all male, whom none can Enter?  
What think you now Lady, speak are you wiser?  
What said advancement to you: thus it said!  
The daughters fall lifts up the mother's head:  
Did it not madam? but i'll swear it does  
In many places, tut, this age fears no man,  
'tis no shame to be bad, because 'tis common.  Moth. 
I that's the comfort on't.  Vind. 
The comfort on't!  
I keep the best for last, can these persuade you  
To forget heaven— and—  Moth. 
I these are they?  Vind. 
Oh!  Moth. 
That enchant our sex,  
These are the means that govern our affections,— that woman  
Will not be troubled with the mother long,  
That sees the comfortable shine of you,  
I blush to think what for your sakes I'll do!  Vind. 
O suffering heaven with thy invisible finger,  
e'en at this Instant turn the precious side  
Of both mine eyeballs inward, not to see myself,  Mot. 
Look you sir.  Vin. 
Holla.  Mot. 
Let this thank your pains.  Vind. 
O you're a kind Madman;  Mot. 
I'll see how I can move,  Vind. 
Your words will sting,  Mot. 
If she be still chaste I'll near call her mine,  Vind. 
Spoke truer than you meant it,  Mot. 
Daughter Castiza.  Cast. 
Madam,  Vind. 
O she's yonder.  
Meet her: troops of celestial Soldiers guard her heart.  
Yond dam has devils enough to take her part,  Cast. 
Madam what makes yond evil officed man,  
In presence of you;  Mot. 
Why?  Cast. 
He lately brought  
Immodest writing sent from the Duke's son  
To tempt me to dishonourable Act,  Mot. 
Dishonourable Act?— good honourable fool,  
That wouldst be honest cause thou wouldst be so,  
Producing no one reason but thy will.  
And t'as a good report, prettily commended,  
But pray by whom; mean people; ignorant people,  
The better sort I'm sure cannot abide it,  
And by what rule shouldst we square out our lives,  
But by our betters actions? oh if thou knew'st  
What 'twere to lose it, thou would never keep it:  
But there's a cold curse laid upon all Maids,  
Whilst other clip the Sun they clasp the shades!  
Virginity is paradise, locked up.  
You cannot come by yourselves without fee.  
And 'twas decreed that man should keep the key!  
Deny advancement, treasure, the Duke's son,  Cast. 
I cry you mercy. Lady I mistook you,  
Pray did you see my Mother; which way went you?  
Pray God I have not lost her.  Vind. 
Prettily put by.  Moth. 
Are you as proud to me as coy to him?  
Do you not know me now?  Cast. 
Why are you she?  
The worlds so changed, one shape into another,  
It is a wise child now that knows her mother?  Vind. 
Most right i'faith.  Mother. 
I owe your cheek my hand,  
For that presumption now, but I'll forget it,  
Come you shall leave those childish haviours,  
And understand your Time, Fortunes flow to you,  
What will you be a Girl?  
If all feared drowning, that spy waves ashore,  
Gold would grow rich, and all the merchants poor.  Cast. 
It is a pretty saying of a wicked one, but methinks now  
It does not show so well out of your mouth,  
Better in his.  Vind. 
Faith bad enough in both,  
Were I in earnest as I'll seem no less?  
I wonder Lady your own mother's words,  
Cannot be taken, nor stand in full force.  
'Tis honesty you urge; what's honesty?  
'Tis but heavens beggar; and what woman is so foolish to keep honesty,  
And be not able to keep herself? No,  
Times are grown wiser and will keep less charge,  
A Maid that h'as small portion now intends,  
To break up house, and live upon her friends  
How blessed are you, you have happiness alone,  
Others must fall to thousands, you to one,  
Sufficient in himself to make your forehead  
Dazzle the world with jewels, and petitionary people  
Start at your presence.  Mother. 
Oh if I were young, I should be ravished.  Cast. 
I to lose your honour.  Vind. 
Slid how can you lose your honour?  
To deal with my Lords Grace,  
he'll add more honour to it by his Title,  
Your Mother will tell you how.  Mother. 
That I will.  Vind. 
O think upon the pleasure of the Palace,  
Secured ease and state; the stirring meats,  
Ready to move out of the dishes, that e'en now quicken when their eaten,  
Banquets abroad by Torchlight, musics, sports,  
Bareheaded vassals, that had near the fortune  
To keep on their own Hats, but let horns were 'em,  
Nine Coaches waiting— hurry, hurry, hurry.  Cast. 
I to the Devil.  Vind. 
I to the Devil, toth' Duke by my faith.  Moth. 
I to the Duke: daughter you'd scorn to think o'th'  
Devil and you were there once.  Vin. 
True, for most there are as proud as he for his heart i'faith  
Who'd sit at home in a neglected room,  
Dealing her short-lived beauty to the pictures,  
That are as useless as old men, when those  
Poorer in face and fortune then herself,  
Walk with a hundred Acres on their backs,  
Fair Meadows cut into Green foreparts— oh  
It was the greatest blessing ever happened to women;  
When farmer's sons agreed, and met again,  
To wash their hands, and come up Gentlemen;  
The commonwealth has flourished ever since,  
Lands that were meat by the Rod, that labours spared,  
Tailors ride down, and measure 'em by the yard;  
Fair trees, those comely foretops of the Field,  
Are cut to maintain head-tires— much untold,  
All thrives but Chastity, she lies a cold,  
nay shall I come nearer to you, mark but this:  
Why are there so few honest women, but because 'tis the poorer profession, that's accounted best, that's best followed, lest in trade, lest in fashion, and that's not honesty believe it, and do but note the love and dejected price of it: 
Lose but a Pearl, we search and cannot brook it.  
But that once gone, who is so mad to look it.   Mother. 
Troth he says true.  Cast. 
False, I defy you both:  
I have endured you with an ear of fire,  
Your Tongues have struck hot irons on my face;  
Mother, come from that poisonous woman there.  Mother. 
Where?  Cast. 
Do you not see her, she's too inward then:  
Slave perish in thy office: you heavens please,  
Henceforth to make the Mother a disease,  
Which first begins with me, yet I've outgone you.  Exit. Vind. 
O Angels clap your wings upon the skies,  
And give this Virgin Crystal plaudities?  Mot. 
Peevish, coy, foolish, but return this answer,  
My Lord shall be most welcome, when his pleasure  
Conducts him this way, I will sway mine own,  
Women with women can work best alone.  Exit. Vind. 
Indeed I'll tell him so;  
O more uncivil, more unnatural,  
Than those base-titled creatures that look downward,  
Why does not heaven turn black, or with a frown  
Undo the world— why does not earth start up,  
And strike the sins that tread upon't— oh;  
Wert not for gold and women; there would be no damnation,  
Hell would look like a lord's Great Kitchen without fire in't;  
But 'twas decreed before the world began,  
That they should be the hooks to catch, at man.  Exit. Enter Lussurioso, with Hippolito, Vindice's brother. Luss. 
I much applaud thy judgement, thou art well read in a fellow,  
And 'tis the deepest Art to study man;  
I know this, which I never learned in schools,  
The world's divided into knaves and fools.  Hip. 
Knave in your face my Lord, behind your back.  Luss. 
And I much thank thee, that thou hast preferred,  
A fellow of discourse— well mingled,  
And whose brain Time hath seasoned.  Hip. 
True my Lord,  
We shall find season once I hope;— O villain!  
To make such an unnatural slave of me;— but—  Luss. 
Mass here he comes.  Hip. 
And now shall I have free leave to depart.  Luss. 
Your absence, leave us.  Hip. 
Are not my thoughts true?  
I must remove; but brother you may stay,  
Heart, we are both made Bawds a newfound way?  Exit. Luss. 
Now, we're an even number? a third man's dangerous,  
Especially her brother, say, be free,  
Have I a pleasure toward.  Vind. 
Oh my Lord.  Luss. 
Ravish me in thine answer, art thou rare,  
Hast thou beguiled her of salvation,  
And rubbed hell over with honey; is she a woman?  Vind. 
In all but in Desire.  Luss. 
Then she's in nothing,— I bate in courage now.  Vind. 
The words I brought,  
Might well have made indifferent honest, nought,  
A right good woman in these days in changed,  
Into white money with less labour far,  
Many a Maid has turned to Mahomet,  
With easier working; I durst undertake  
Upon the pawn and forfeit of my life.  
With half those words to flat a Puritans wife,  
But she is close and good;— yet 'tis a doubt by this time; oh the mother, the mother?  Luss. 
I never thought their sex had been a wonder,  
Until this minute? what fruit from the Mother?  Vind. 
Now must I blister my soul, be forsworn,  
Or shame the woman that received me first,  
I will be true, thou liv'st not to proclaim,  
Spoke to a dying man, shame has no shame.  
My Lord.  Luss. 
whose's that?  Vind. 
Here's none but I my Lord.  Luss. 
What would thy haste utter?  Vind. 
Comfort.  Luss. 
Welcome.  Vind. 
The Maid being dull, having no mind to travel,  
Into unknown lands, what did me I straight,  
But set spurs to the Mother; golden spurs,  
Will put her to a false gallop in a trice,  Luss. 
be't possible that in this.  
The Mother should be damned before the daughter?  Vin. 
Oh, that's good manners my Lord, the Mother for her age must go foremost you know.  Lu. 
Thou'st spoke that true but where comes in this comfort.  Vind. 
In a fine place my Lord— the unnatural mother,  
Did with her tongue so hard be set her honour,  
That the poor fool was struck to silent wonder,  
Yet still the maid like an unlighted Taper,  
Was cold and chaste, save that her Mother's breath,  
Did blow fire on her checks, the girl departed,  
But the good ancient Madam half mad, threw me  
These promising words, which I took deeply note of;  
My Lord shall be most welcome,  Luss 
Faith I thank her,  Vin. 
When his pleasure conducts him this way.  Luss. 
That shall be soon ifath,  Vind. 
I will sway mine own,  Luss. 
She does the wiser I commend her for't,  Vind. 
Women with women can work best alone,  Luss. 
By this light and so they can, give 'em their due, men are not comparable to 'em.  Vind. 
No that's true, for you shall have one woman knit more in a hour than any man can ravel again in seven and twenty year.  Luss. 
Now my desires are happy, I'll make 'em freemen now,  
Thou art a precious fellow, faith I love thee,  
Be wise and make it thy revenue, beg, leg,  
What office couldst thou be Ambitious for?  Vind. 
Office my Lord marry if I might have my wish I would have one that was never begged yet,  Luss. 
Nay then thou canst have none.  Vind. 
Yes my Lord I could pick out another office yet, nay and keep a horse and drab upon't,  Luss. 
Prithee good bluntness tell me.  Vind. 
Why I would desire but this my Lord, to have all the fees behind the Arras; and all the farthingales that fall plump about twelve o'clock at night upon the Rushes.  Luss. 
Thou'rt a mad apprehensive knave, dost think to make any great purchase of that.  Vind. 
Oh 'tis an unknown thing my Lord, I wonder t'has's been missed so long?  Luss. 
Well, this night i'll visit her, and 'tis till then  
A year in my desires-farewell, attend,  
Trust me with thy preferment.  Exit. Vind. 
My loved Lord;  
Oh shall I kill him ah wrong-side now, no!  
Sword thou wast never a backbiter yet,  
I'll pierce him to his face, he shall die, looking upon me,  
Thy veins are swelled with lust, this shall unfill 'em,  
Great men were Gods, if beggars could not kill 'em,  
Forgive me heaven, to call my mother wicked,  
Oh lessen not my days upon the earth  
I cannot honour her, by this I fear me  
Her tongue has turned my sister into use.  
I was a villain not to be forsworn:  
To this our lecherous hope, the Duke's son,  
For Lawyers, Merchants, some divines and all,  
Count beneficial perjury a sin small,  
It shall go hard yet, but I'll guard her honour  
And keep the ports sure?  Enter Hippol. Hip. 
Brother how goes the world? I would know news of you  
But I have news to tell you.  Vind. 
What in the name of knavery?  Hipo. 
Knavery faith,  
This vicious old Duke's worthily abused  
The pen of his bastard writes him Cuckold!  Vind. 
His bastard?  Hip. 
Pray believe it, he and the Duchess,  
By night meet in their linen, they have been seen  
By stair-foot panders!  Vind. 
Oh sin foul and deep,  
Great faults are winked at when the Duke's asleep,  
See, see, here comes the Spurio.  Hip. 
Monstrous Luxur?  Vind. 
Unbraced: two of his valiant bawds with him.  
O There's a wicked whisper; hell is in his care  
Stay let's observe his passage—  Spu. 
Oh but are you sure on't.  Ser. 
My Lord most sure on't, for 'twas spoke by one,  
That is most inward with the Duke's sons lust:  
That he intends within this hour to steal,  
Unto Hippolito's sister, whose chaste life  
The mother has corrupted for his use.  Sp. 
Sweet word, sweet occasion, faith than brother  
I'll disinherit you in as short time,  
As I was when I was begot in haste:  
I'll damn you at your pleasure: precious deed  
After your lust, oh 'twill be fine to bleed,  
Come let our passing out be soft & wary.  Exeunt. Vi. 
Mark, there, there, that step, now to the Duchess,  
This their second meeting, writes the Duke Cuckold  
With new additions, his horns newly reviv'd:  
Night! thou that look'st like funeral heralds fees  
Torn down betimes i'th' morning, thou hangest fitly  
To Grace those sins that have no grace at all,  
Now 'tis full sea a-bed over the world,  
There's juggling of all sides, some that were Maids  
E'en at Sun set are now perhaps i'th' toll-book,  
This woman in immodest thin apparel:  
Lets in her friend by water, here a Dame  
Cunning, nails leather-hinges to a door,  
To avoid proclamation,  
Now Cuckolds are a quoining, apace, apace, apace, apace?  
And careful sisters spin that thread i'th' night,  
That does maintain them and their bawds i'th' day!  Hip. 
You flow well brother?  Vind. 
Puh I'm shallow vet,  
Too sparing and too modest, shall I tell thee,  
If every trick were told that's dealt by night  
There are few here that would not blush out right.  Hip. 
I am of that belief too.  Vind. 
whose's this comes,  Vind. 
The Duke's son up so late,— brother fall back,  
And you shall learn, some mischief,— my good Lord.  Luss. 
Piato, why the man I wished for, come,  
I do embrace this season for the fittest  
To taste of that young Lady?  Vind. 
Heart, and hell.  Hip. 
Damned villain.  Vind. 
I ha' no way now to cross it, but to kill him.  Luss. 
Come only thou and I.  Vin. 
My Lord my Lord.  Luss. 
Why dost thou start us?  Vind. 
I'd almost forgot— the bastard!  Lus. 
What of him?  Vind. 
This night, this hour— this minute, now.  Luss. 
What? what?  Vin. 
Shadows the Duchess—  Luss. 
Horrible word.  Vind. 
And like strong poison eats,  
Into the Duke your father's forehead.  Luss. 
Oh.  Vind. 
He makes horn royal.  Lus: 
Most ignoble slave?  Vind. 
This is the fruit of two beds.  Luss. 
I am mad.  Vind. 
That passage he trod warily:  Luss. 
He did!  Vind. 
And hushed his villains every step he took.  Luss. 
His villains? i'll confound them.  Vind. 
Take 'em finely, finely, now.  Luss. 
The Duchess Chamber-door shall not control me.  Exeunt Hip. 
Good, happy, swift, there's gunpowder i'th' Court,  
Wild fire at midnight, in this heedless fury  
He may show violence to cross himself,  
I'll follow the Event.  Exit. Luss. 
Where is that villain?  Enter again. Vind. 
softly my Lord and you may take 'em twisted.  Luss. 
I care not how!  Vind. 
Oh 'twill be glorious,  
To kill 'em doubled, when their heaped, be soft my Lord.  Luss. 
Away my spleen is not so lazy, thus and thus,  
I'll shake their eyelids ope, and with my sword  
Shut 'em again for ever;— villain, strumpet—  Duk. 
You upper Guard defend us.  Duch. 
Treason, treason.  Duk. 
Oh take me not in sleep, I have great sins, I must have days,  
Nay months dear son, with penitential heaves,  
To lift 'em out, and not to die unclear,  
O thou wilt kill me both in heaven and here.  Luss. 
I am amazed to death.  Duke. 
Nay villain traitor,  
Worse than the foulest Epithet, now I'll gripe thee  
e'en with the Nerves of wrath, and throw thy head  
Amongst the lawyer's guard.  Enter Nobles and sons. 1. Noble. 
How comes the quiet of your Grace disturbed?  Duke. 
This boy that should be myself after me,  
Would be myself before me, and in heat  
Of that ambition bloodily rushed in  
Intending to depose me in my bed?  2. Noble. 
Duty and natural-loyalty forfend.  Dut. 
He called his Father villain; and me strumpet,  
A word that I abhor to file my lips with.  Ambi. 
That was not so well done Brother?  Luss. 
I am abused— I know there's no excuse can do me good.  Vind. 
'tis now good policy to be from sight,  
His vicious purpose to our sister's honour,  
Is crossed beyond our thought.  Hip. 
You little dreamed his Father slept here.  Vind. 
Oh 'twas far beyond me.  
But since it fell so;— without frightful word,  
Would he had killed him, 'twould have eased our swords.  Duk. 
Be comforted our Duchess, he shall die.  dissemble a flight. Luss. 
Where's this slave-pander now? out of mine eye,  
Guilty of this abuse.  Enter Spurio with his villains. Spu. 
You're villains, Fablers,  
You have knaves chins, and harlot's tongues, you lie,  
And I will damn you with one meal a day.  1. Ser. 
O good my Lord!  Spu. 
'sblood you shall never sup.  2. Ser. 
O I beseech you sir.  Spu. 
To let my sword— Catch cold so long and miss him.  1. Ser. 
Troth my Lord— 'twas his intent to meet there.  Spu. 
Heart he's yonder?  
Ha? what news here? is the day out o'th- socket,  
That it is Noon at Midnight; the Court up,  
How comes the Guard so saucy with his elbows?  Luss. 
The Bastard here?  
Nay then the truth of my intent shall out,  
My Lord and Father hear me.  Duke. 
Bear him hence.  Luss. 
I can with loyalty excuse.  Duke. 
Excuse? to prison with the Villain,  
Death shall not long lag after him.  Spu. 
Good i'faith, then 'tis not much amiss,  Luss. 
Brothers, my best release lies on your tongues,  
I pray persuade for me.  Ambi. 
It is our duties: make yourself sure of us.  Sup. 
we'll sweat in pleading.  Luss. 
And I may live to thank you.  Exeunt. Ambi. 
No, thy death shall thank me better.  Spu. 
he's gone: I'll after him,  
And know his trespass, seem to bear a part  
In all his ills, but with a Puritan heart.  Exit. Amb. 
Now brother, let our hate and love be woven  
So subtly together, that in speaking one word for his life,  
We may make three for his death,  
The craftiest pleader gets most gold for breath.  Sup. 
Set on, I'll not be far behind you brother.  Duke. 
be't possible a son should be disobedient as far as  
the sword: it is the highest he can go no farther.  Ambi. 
My gracious Lord, take pity,—  Duke. 
Pity boys?  Amb. 
Nay weed be loath to move your Grace too much,  
we know the trespass is unpardonable,  
Black, wicked, and unnatural,  Sup. 
In a Son, oh Monstrous.  Ambi. 
Yet my Lord,  
A Duke's soft hand strokes the rough head of law,  
And makes it lie smooth.  Duk. 
But my hand shall near do't.  Amb. 
That as you please my Lord.  Super. 
we must needs confess,  
Some father would have entered into hate,  
So deadly pointed, that before his eyes,  
He would ha' seen the execution sound,  
Without corrupted favour?  Amb. 
But my Lord,  
Your Grace may live the wonder of all times,  
In pardoning that offence which never yet  
Had face to beg a pardon.  Duke. 
Honey, how's this?  Amb. 
Forgive him good my Lord, he's your own son,  
And I must needs say 'twas the vildlier done.  Superv. 
he's the next heir— yet this true reason gathers,  
None can possess that dispossess their fathers:  
Be merciful;—  Duke. 
Here's no Step-mothers-wit,  
I'll try 'em both upon their love and hate.  Amb. 
Be merciful— although—  Duke. 
You have prevailed,  
My wrath like flaming wax hath spent itself,  
I know 'twas but some peevish Moon in him: go, let him be released.  Superv. 
'sfoot how now Brother?  Amb. 
Your Grace doth please to speak beside your spleen,  
I would it were so happy?  Duke. 
Why go, release him.  Superv. 
O my good Lord, I know the fault's too weighty,  
And full of general loathing; too inhuman,  
Rather by all men's voices worthy death.  Duke. 
'tis true too; here then, receive this signet, doom shall pass,  
Direct it to the judges, he shall die  
Ere many days, make haste.  Amb. 
All speed that may be,  
We could have wished his burden not so sore,  
We knew your Grace did but delay before.  Exeunt. Duke. 
Here's Envy with a poor thin cover or't,  
Like Scarlet hid in lawn, easily spied through,  
This their ambition by the Mother's side,  
Is dangerous, and for safety must be purged,  
I will prevent their envies, sure it was  
But some mistaken fury in our son,  
Which these aspiring boys would climb upon:  
He shall be released suddenly.  Enter Nobles. 1. Nob. 
Good morning to your Grace.  Duke. 
Welcome my Lords.  2. Nob. 
Our knees shall take away the office of our feet for ever,  
Unless your Grace bestow a father's eye,  
Upon the Clouded fortunes of your son,  
And in compassionate virtue grant him that,  
Which makes e'en mean men happy; liberty  Duk. 
How seriously their loves and honours woo  
For that, which I am about to pray them do  
Which, rise my Lords, your knees sign his release,  
We freely pardon him.  1. Nob. 
We owe your Grace much thanks, and he much duty.  Duk. 
It well becomes that judge to nod at crimes,  Exeunt. 
That does commit greater himself and lives:  
I may forgive a disobedient error,  
That expect pardon for adultery  
And in my old days am a youth in lust:  
Many a beauty have I turned to poison  
In the denial, covetous of all,  
Age hot, is like a Monster to be seen:  
My hairs are white, and yet my sins are Green.   

ACT. 3.  Enter Ambitioso, and Superuacuo? Sup. 
Brother, let my opinion sway you once,  
I speak it for the best, to have him die:  
Surest and soonest, if the signet come,  
Unto the judges hands, why then his doom,  
Will be deferred till sittings and Court-days:  
juries and further,— Faiths are bought and sold,  
Oaths in these days are but the skin of gold.  Amb. 
In troth 'tis true too!  Super. 
Then let's set by the judges  
And fall to the Officers, 'tis but mistaking  
The Duke our father's meaning, and where he named,  
Ere many days, 'tis but forgetting that  
And, have him die i'th' morning.  Amb. 
Excellent,  
Then am I heir— Duke in a minute.  Super. 
Nay,  
And he were once puff out, here is a pin.  
Should quickly prick your bladder.  Amb. 
Blast occasion,  
He being packed, we'll have some trick and wile,  
To wind our younger brother out of prison,  
That lies in for the Rape, the Ladies dead,  
And people's thoughts will soon be buried.  Super. 
We may with safety do't, and live and feed,  
The Duchess-sons are too proud to bleed,  Am. 
We are i'faith to say true.— come let's not linger  
I'll to the Officers, go you before,  
And set an edge upon the Executioner.  Sup. 
Let me alone to grind him.  Exit. Amb. 
Meet; farewell,  
I am next now, I rise just in that place,  
Where thou'rt cut of, upon thy Neck kind brother,  
The falling of one head, lifts up another.  Exit. Enter with the Nobles, Lussurioso from prison. Luss. 
My Lords? I am so much indebted to your loves,  
For this, O this delivery.  1. Nob. 
But our duties, my Lord, unto the hopes that grow in you,  Luss. 
If ere I live to be myself i'll thank you,  
O liberty thou sweet and heavenly Dame;  
But hell for prison is too mild a name.  Exeunt. Enter Ambitioso, and Superuacuo? with Officers. Am. 
Officers? here's the Duke's signet, your firm warrant,  
Brings the command of present death along with it  
Unto our brother, the Duke's son; we are sorry,  
That we are so unnaturally employed  
In such an unkind Office, fitter far  
For enemies than brothers.  Super. 
But you know,  
The Duke's command must be obeyed.  1. Offi. 
It must and shall my Lord— this morning then,  
So suddenly?  Am. 
I alas poor-good-soul,  
He must break fast betimes, the executioner  
Stands ready to put forth his cowardly valour.  2. Offi. 
Already?  Sup. 
Already ifath, O sir, destruction hies,  
And that is least Impudent, soonest dies,  1. Off. 
Troth you say true my Lord we take our leaves,  
Our Office shall be sound, we'll not delay,  
The third part of a minute.  Amb. 
I herein you show.  
yourselves good men, and upright officers,  
Pray let him die as private as he may,  
Do him that favour, for the gaping people.  
Will but trouble him at his prayers,  
And make him curse, and swear, and so die black.  
Will you be so far Kind?  1. Off. 
It shall be done my Lord.  Amb. 
Why we do thank you, if we live to be,  
You shall have a better office,  2. Off. 
Your good Lordship,  Sup. 
Commend us to the scaffold in our tears.  1. Off 
we'll weep and do your commendations,  Exeunt. Amb. 
Fine fools in office!  Sup. 
Things fall our so fit.  Amb. 
So happily, come brother ere next clock,  
His head will be made serve a bigger block.  Exeunt. Enter in prison Junior Brother, Iuni. 
Keeper.  Keep. 
My Lord.  Iuni. 
No news lately from our brothers?  
Are they unmindful of us?  Keep. 
My Lord a messenger came newly in and brought this from 'em,  Iuni. 
Nothing but paper comforts?  
I looked for my delivery before this,  
Had they been worth their oaths— prithee be from us.  
Now what say you forsooth, speak out I pray,  
Letter. Brother be of good cheer,  
'slud it begins like a whore with good cheer,  
Thou shalt not be long a prisoner.  
Not five and thirty year like a bankrupt, I think so,  
We have thought upon a device to get thee out by a trick!  
By a trick, pox a your trick and it be so long a playing.  
And so rest comforted, be merry and expect it suddenly!  
Be merry, hang merry, draw and quarter merry, I'll be mad.  
be't not strange that a man should lie in a whole month for a woman, well, we shall see how sudden our brothers: will be in their promise, I must expect still a trick! I shall not be long a prisoner, how now, what news?  Keeper. 
Bad news my Lord I am discharged of you.  Iunio. 
Slave call'st thou that bad news, I thank you brothers.  Keep. 
My Lord 'twill prove so, here come the Officers,  
Into whose hands I must commit you.  Iunio. 
Ha, Officers what, why?  1. Offi. 
You must pardon us my Lord,  
Our Office must be sound, here is our warrant  
The signet from the Duke, you must straight suffer.  junior. 
Suffer? i'll suffer you to be gone, i'll suffer you,  
To come no more, what would you have me suffer?  2. Offi. 
My Lord those words were better changed to prayers,  
The times but brief with you, prepare to die.  junior. 
Sure 'tis not so.  3. Offi. 
It is too true my Lord.  junior. 
I tell you 'tis not, for the Duke my father,  
Defend me till next sitting, and I look  
E'en every minute threescore times an hour,  
For a release, a trick wrought by my brothers.  1. Offi. 
A trick my Lord? if you expect such comfort,  
Your hopes as fruitless as a barren woman:  
Your brothers were the unhappy messengers,  
That brought this powerful token for your death.  junior. 
My brothers, no, no.  2. Offi. 
'tis most true my Lord.  junior. 
My brothers to bring a warrant for my death  
How strange this shows?  3. Offi. 
There's no delaying time.  junior. 
Desire 'em hither, call 'em up, my brothers?  
They shall deny it to your faces.  1. Offi. 
My Lord,  
They're far enough by this, at least at Court,  
And this most strict command they left behind 'em,  
When grief swum in their eyes, they showed like brothers,  
Brimful of heavy sorrow: but the Duke  
Must have his pleasure.  Iunio. 
His pleasure?  1. Off. 
These were their last words which my memory bears,  
Commend us to the Scaffold in our tears.  junior. 
Pox dry their tears, what should I do with tears?  
I hate 'em worse than any citizens son  
Can hate salt water; here came a letter now,  
New-bleeding from their Pens, scarce stinted yet,  
Would lde been torn in pieces when I tore it,  
Look you officious whoresons words of comfort,  
Not long a Prisoner.  1. Off. 
It says true in that sir, for you must suffer presently.  junior. 
A villainous Duns, upon the letter knavish exposition,  
Look you then here sir: we'll get thee out by a trick says he.  2. Off. 
That may hold too sir, for you know a Trick is commonly  
four Cards, which was meant by us four officers.  junior. 
Worse and worse dealing.  1. Off. 
The hour beckons us,  
The headsman waits, lift up your eyes to heaven.  junior. 
I thank you faith; good pretty-wholesome counsel,  
I should look up to heaven as you said,  
Whilst he behind me cozens me of my head,  
I that's the Trick.  3. Off. 
You delay too long my Lord.  junior. 
Stay good Authorities Bastards, since I must  
Through Brother's perjury die, O let me venom  
Their souls with curses.  1. Off. 
Come 'tis no time to curse.  junior. 
Must I bleed then, without respect of sign? well—  
My fault was sweet sport, which the world approves,  
I die for that which every woman loves.  Exeunt. Enter Vindice with Hippolito his brother. Vind. 
O sweet, delectable, rare, happy, ravishing,  Hip. 
Why what's the matter brother?  Vin. 
O 'tis able, to make a man spring up, & knock his forehead  
Against yond silver ceiling.  Hip. 
Prithee tell me,  
Why may not I partake with you? you vowed once  
To give me share to every tragic thought.  Vind. 
Byth' Mass I think I did too,  
Then I'll divide it to thee,— the old Duke  
Thinking my outward shape, and inward heart  
Are cut out of one piece; (for he that prates his secrets,  
His heart stands ath out side) hires me by price:  
To greet him with a Lady,  
In some fit place veiled from the eyes ath Court,  
Some darkened blushless Angle, that is guilty  
Of his forefathers lusts, and great-folks' riots,  
To which (I easily to maintain my shape)  
Consented, and did wish his impudent grace  
To meet her here in this un-sunned-lodge,  
Wherein 'tis night at noon, and here the rather,  
Because unto the torturing of his soul,  
The Bastard and the Duchess have appointed  
Their meeting too in this luxurious circle,  
Which most afflicting sight will kill his eyes  
Before we kill the rest of him.  Hip. 
'twill i'faith, most dreadfully digested,  
I see not how you could have missed me brother.  Vind. 
True, but the violence of my joy forgot it.  Hip. 
ay, but where's that Lady now?  Vind. 
Oh at that word,  
I'm lost again, you cannot find me yet  
I'm in a throng of happy Apprehensions.  
he's suited for a Lady, I have took care  
For a delicious lip, a sparkling eye,  
You shall be witness brother;  
Be ready stand with your hat off.  Exit. Hip. 
Troth I wonder what Lady it should be?  
Yet 'tis no wonder, now I think again,  
To have a Lady stoop to a Duke, that stoops unto his men,  
'tis common to be common, through the world:  
And there's more private common shadowing vices,  
Than those who are known both by their names and prices  
'tis part of my allegiance to stand bare,  
To the Duke's Concubine,— and here she comes.  Enter Vindice, with the skull of his love dressed up in Tires. Vind. 
Madame his grace will not be absent long.  
Secret? near doubt us madam? 'twill be worth  
Three velvet gowns to your Ladyship— known?  
Few Ladies respect that? disgrace, a poor thin shell,  
'tis the best grace you have to do it well,  
I'll save your hand that labour, i'll unmask you?  Hip. 
Why brother, brother.  Vind. 
Art thou beguiled now? tut, a Lady can,  
At such all hid, beguile a wiser man,  
Have I not fitted the old surfeiter  
With a quaint piece of beauty, age and bare bone  
Are ere allied in action; here's an eye,  
Able to tempt a great-man— to serve God,  
A pretty hanging lip, that has for got now to dissemble  
methinks this mouth should make a swearer tremble.  
A drunkard clasp his teeth, and not undo 'em,  
To suffer wet damnation to run through 'em.  
Here's a cheek keeps her colour let the wind go whistle,  
Spout Rain, we fear thee not, be hot or cold  
All's one with us; and is not he absurd,  
Whose fortunes are upon their faces set,  
That fear no other God but wind and wet.  Hip. 
Brother you'ave spoke that right,  
Is this the form that living shone so bright?  Vind. 
The very same,  
And now methinks I could e'en chide myself,  
For doting on her beauty, though her death  
Shall be revenged after no common action;  
does the silk-worm expend her yellow labours  
For thee? for thee does she undo herself?  
Are Lordships sold to maintain Ladyships  
For the poor benefit of a bewitching minute?  
Why does yond fellow falsify highways  
And put his life between the judges lips,  
To refine such a thing keeps horse and men  
To beat their valours for her?  
Surely we're all mad people, and they  
Whom we think are, are not, we mistake those,  
'tis we are mad in sense, they but in clothes.  Hip. 
Faith and in clothes too we, give us our due.  Vind. 
does every proud and self-affecting Dame  
Camphire her face for this? and grieve her Maker  
In sinful baths of milk,— when many an infant starves,  
For her superfluous outside, all for this?  
Who now bids twenty pound a night, prepares  
Music, perfumes, and sweetmeats, all are hushed,  
Thou mayst lie chaste now! it were fine methinks:  
To have thee seen at Revels, forgetful feasts,  
And unclean brothels; sure 'twould fright the sinner  
And make him a good coward, put a Reveller,  
Out off his Antic amble  
And cloy an Epicure with empty dishes?  
Here might a scornful and ambitious woman,  
Look through and through herself,— see Ladies, with false forms,  
You deceive men, but cannot deceive worms.  
Now to my tragic business, look you brother,  
I have not fashioned this only— for show  
And useless property, no, it shall bear a part  
E'en in it own Revenge. This very skull,  
Whose Mistress the Duke poisoned, with this drug  
The mortal curse of the earth; shall be revenged  
In the like strain, and kiss his lips to death,  
As much as the dumb thing can, he shall feel:  
What fails in poison, we'll supply in steel.  Hip. 
Brother I do applaud thy constant vengeance,  
The quaintness of thy malice above thought.  Vind. 
So 'tis laid on: now come and welcome Duke,  
I have her for thee, I protest it brother:  
methinks she makes almost as fair a sign  
As some old gentlewoman in a Periwig?  
Hide thy face now for shame, thou hadst need have a Mask now  
'tis vain when beauty flows, but when it fleets  
This would become graves better than the streets.  Hip. 
You have my voice in that; hark, the Duke's come.  Vind. 
Peace, let's observe what company he brings,  
And how he does absent 'em, for you know  
he'll wish all private,— brother fall you back a little,  
With the bony Lady.  Hip. 
That I will.  Vind. 
So, so,— now 9. years' vengeance crowd into a minute!  Duk. 
You shall have leave to leave us, with this charge,  
Upon your lives, if we be missed byth' Duchess  
Or any of the Nobles, to give out,  
We're privately rid forth.  Vind 
Oh happiness!  Duke 
With some few honourable gentlemen you may say,  
You may name those that are away from Court.  Gentle. 
Your will and pleasure shall be done my Lord.  Vind. 
privately rid forth,  
He strives to make sure work on't— your good grace?  Duk. 
Piato, well done hast brought her, what Lady be't?  Vind. 
Faith my Lord a Country Lady, a little bashful at first as most of them are, but after the first kiss my Lord the worst is past with them, your grace knows now what you have to do; she's somewhat a grave look with her— but—  Duk. 
I love that best, conduct her.  Vind. 
Have at all.  Duk. 
In gravest looks the Greatest faults seem less  
Give me that sin that's robbed in Holiness.  Vind. 
Back with the Torch; brother raise the perfumes.  Duk. 
How sweet can a Duke breath? age has no fault,  
Pleasure should meet in a perfumed mist,  
Lady sweetly encountered, I came from Court I must be bold with you, oh, what's this, oh!  Vind. 
royal villain, white devil;  Duke. 
Oh.  Vind. 
Brother— place the Torch here, that his affrighted eyeballs  
May start into those hollows, Duke; dost know  
Yond dreadful vizard, view it well, 'tis the skull  
Of Gloriana, whom thou poisonedst last.  Duk. 
Oh, 'thas poisoned me.  Vind. 
Didst not know that till now?  Duk. 
What are you two?  Vind. 
villains all three?— the very ragged bone,  
Has been sufficiently revenged.  Duk. 
Oh Hippolito? call treason.  Hip. 
Yes my good Lord, treason, treason, treason.  stamping on him. Duk. 
Then I'm betrayed.  Vind. 
Alas poor Lecher in the hands of knaves,  
A slavish Duke is baser than his slaves.  Duke. 
My teeth are eaten out.  Vind. 
Hadst any lest.  Hip. 
I think but few.  Vin. 
Then those that did eat are eaten.  Duk. 
O my tongue.  Vind. 
Your tongue? 'twill teach you to kiss closer,  
Not like a Flobbering Dutchman, you have eyes still:  
Look monster, what a Lady hast thou made me,  
My once betrothed wife.  Duk. 
Is it thou villain, nay then—  Vind. 
'tis I, 'tis Vindici, 'tis I.  Hip. 
And let this comfort thee: our Lord and Father  
Fell sick upon the infection of thy frowns,  
And died in sadness; be that thy hope of life.  Duke. 
o?  Vind. 
He had his tongue, yet grief made him die speechless.  
Puh, 'tis but early yet, now i'll begin  
To stick thy soul with Ulcers, I will make  
Thy spirit grievous sore, it shall not rest,  
But like some pestilent man toss in thy breast- (mark me duke)  
Thou'rt a renowned, high, and mighty Cuckold.  Duke. 
Oh!  Vind. 
Thy Bastard, thy bastard rides a hunting in thy brow.  Duke. 
Millions of deaths.  Vind. 
Nay to afflict thee more,  
Here in this lodge they meet for damned clips,  
Those eyes shall see the incest of their lips.  Duke. 
Is there a hell besides this, villains?  Vind. 
Villain?  
Nay heaven is just, scorns are the hires of scorns,  
I near knew yet Adulterer without horns.  Hip. 
Once ere they die 'tis quitted.  Vind. 
Hark the music,  
Their banquet is prepared, they're coming—  Duke. 
Oh, kill me not with that sight.  Vin. 
Thou shalt not lose that sight for all thy dukedom.  Duke. 
traitors, murderers?  Vin. 
What? is not thy tongue eaten out yet?  
Then we'll invent a silence? brother stifle the Torch,  Duke. 
Treason, murder?  Vind. 
Nay faith, we'll have you hushed now with thy dagger  
Nail down his tongue, and mine shall keep possession  
About his heart, if he but gasp he dies,  
we dread not death to quittance injuries;— Brother,  
If he but wink, not brooking the foul object,  
Let our two other hands tear up his lids,  
And make his eyes like Comets shine through blood,  
When the bad bleeds, then is the Tragedy good,  Hip. 
Whist, brother, music's at our ear, they come.  Enter the Bastard meeting the Duchess. Spu. 
Had not that kiss a taste of sin 'twere sweet.  Dutch. 
Why there's no pleasure sweet but it is sinful.  Spu. 
True, such a bitter sweetness fate hath given,  
Best side to us, is the worst side to heaven.  Dutch. 
Push, come: 'tis the old Duke thy doubtful Father,  
The thought of him rubs heaven in thy way,  
But I protest by yonder waxen fire,  
Forget him, or i'll poison him.  Spu. 
Madam, you urge a thought which near had life,  
So deadly do I loathe him for my birth,  
That if he took me hasped within his bed,  
I would add murder to adultery,  
And with my sword give up his years to death.  Dutch. 
Why now thou'rt sociable, let's in and feast,  
loud'st Music sound: pleasure is Banquet's guest.  Exeunt. Duk. 
I cannot brook—  Vind. 
The Brook is turned to blood.  Hip. 
Thanks to loud Music.  Vind. 
'twas our friend indeed,  
'Tis state in Music for a Duke to bleed:  
The Dukedom wants a head, though yet unknown,  
As fast as they peep up, let's cut 'em down.  Exeunt. Enter the Duchess two sons, Ambitioso & Supervacuo. Amb. 
Was not his execution rarely plotted?  
We are the Duke's sons now.  Super. 
I you may thank my policy for that.  Amb. 
Your policy, for what?  Super. 
Why was't not my invention brother,  
To slip the judges, and in lesser compass,  
Did not I draw the model of his death,  
Advising you to sudden officers,  
And e'en extemporal execution.  Amb. 
Heart, 'twas a thing I thought on too.  Sup. 
You thought on't too, 'sfoot slander not your thoughts  
With glorious untruth, I know 'twas from you.  Amb. 
Sir I say, 'twas in my head.  Spu. 
ay, like your brains then,  
near to come out as long as you lived.  Amb. 
You'd have the honour on't forsooth, that your wit  
Lead him to the scaffold,  Super. 
Since it is my due,  
I'll published, but I'll ha''t in spite of you.  Amb. 
methinks you're much too bold, you should a little  
Remember us brother, next to be honest Duke.  Sup. 
ay, it shall be as easy for you to be Duke,  
As to be honest, and that's never i'faith.  Amb. 
Well, cold he is by this time, and because  
we're both ambitious, be it our amity,  
And let the glory be shared equally.  Sup. 
I am content to that.  Amb. 
This night out younger brother shall out of prison,  
I have a trick.  Sup. 
A trick, prithee what be't?  Amb. 
we'll get him out by a wile.  Sup. 
Prithee what wile?  Amb. 
No sir, you shall not know it, till't be done,  
For then you'd swear 'twere yours.  Super. 
How now, what's he?  Amb. 
One of the officers.  Super. 
Desired news.  Amb. 
How now my friend?  Off. 
My Lords, under your pardon, I am allotted  
To that desertless office, to present you  
With the yet bleeding head.  Sup. 
Ha, ha, excellent.  Amb. 
All's sure our own: Brother, canst weep thinkst thou?  
'twould grace our Flattery much; think of some Dame,  
'twill teach thee to dissemble.  Sup. 
I have thought,— Now for yourself.  Amb. 
Our sorrows are so fluent,  
Our eyes o'erflow our tongues, words spoke in tears,  
Are like the murmurs of the waters, the sound  
Is loudly heard, but cannot be distinguished.  Sup. 
How died he pray?  Off. 
O full of rage and spleen.  Super. 
He died most valiantly then, we're glad to hear it.  Off. 
We could not woe him once to pray.  Amb. 
He showed himself a Gentleman in that: give him his due.  Off. 
But in the steed of prayer, he drew forth oaths.  Super. 
Then did he pray dear heart,  
Although you understood him not.  Offi. 
My Lords,  
E'en at his last, with pardon be it spoke,  
He cursed you both.  Sup. 
He cursed us? lass good soul.  Amb. 
It was not in our powers, but the Duke's pleasure,  
Finely dissembled a both-sides, sweet fate,  
O happy opportunity.  Enter Lussurioso. Luss. 
Now my Lords.  Both. 
Oh!—  Luss. 
Why do you shun me Brothers?  
You may come nearer now;  
The savour of the prison has forsook me,  
I thank such kind Lords as yourselves, I'm free.  Amb 
Alive!  Super. 
In health!  Amb. 
Released?  
We were both e'en amazed with joy to see it,  Luss. 
I am much to thank you.  Sup. 
Faith we spared no tongue, unto my Lord the Duke.  Amb. 
I know your delivery brother  
Had not been half so sudden but for us.  Sup. 
O how we pleaded.  Luss. 
Most deserving brothers,  
In my best studies I will think of it?  Exit Luss. Amb. 
O death and vengeance.  Sup. 
Hell and torments.  Amb. 
Slave camest thou to delude us.  Off. 
Delude you my Lords?  Super. 
I villain, where's this head now?  Off. 
Why here my Lord,  
Just after his delivery, you both came  
With warrant from the Duke to behead your brother.  Amb. 
ay, our brother, the Duke's son.  Off. 
The Duke's son my Lord, had his release before you came.  Amb. 
Whose head's that then?  Off. 
His whom you left command for, your own brothers?  Amb. 
Our brothers? oh furies—  Sup. 
Plagues.  Amb. 
Confusions.  Sup. 
Darkness.  Amb. 
devils.  Sup. 
Fell it out so accursedly?  Amb. 
So damnedly.  Sup. 
Villain I'll brain thee with it,  Off. 
O my good Lord!  Sup. 
The Devil overtake thee?  Amb. 
O fatal.  Sup. 
O prodigious to our bloods.  Amb. 
Did we dissemble?  Sup. 
Did we make our tears women for thee?  Amb. 
Laugh and rejoice for thee.  Sup. 
Bring warrant for thy death.  Amb. 
Mock off thy head  Super. 
You had a trick, you had a wile forsooth.  Amb. 
A murrain meet 'em, there's none of these wiles that ever come to good: I see now, there is nothing sure in mortality, but mortality, well, no more words shalt be revenged i'faith.  
Come, throw off clouds now brother, think of vengeance,  
And deeper settled hate, sirrah sit fast,  
we'll pull down all, but thou shalt down at last.  Exeunt.  

ACT. 4. SCEN. 1.  Enter Lussurioso with Hippolito. Luss. 
Hippolito.  Hip. 
My Lord:  
Has your good Lordship ought to command me in?  Luss. 
I prithee leave us.  Hip. 
How's this? come and leave us?  Luss. 
Hippolito.  Hip. 
Your honour— I stand ready for any duteous employment.  Luss. 
Heart, what mak'st thou here?  Hip. 
A pretty Lordly humour:  
He bids me to be present, to depart; something has stung his honour?  Luss. 
be nearer, draw nearer:  
You're not so good methinks, I'm angry with you.  Hip. 
With me my Lord? I'm angry with myself for't.  Luss. 
You did prefer a goodly fellow to me,  
'twas wittily elected, 'twas, I thought  
Had been a villain, and he proves a Knave?  
To me a Knave.  Hip. 
I chose him for the best my Lord,  
'tis much my sorrow, if neglect in him, breed discontent in you.  Luss. 
Neglect, 'twas will: judge of it,  
Firmly to tell of an incredible Act,  
Not to be thought, less to be spoken of,  
Twixt my Stepmother and the Bastard, oh,  
Incestuous sweets between 'em.  Hip. 
Fie my Lord.  Lus. 
I in kind loyalty to my father's forehead,  
Made this a desperate arm, and in that fury,  
Committed treason on the lawful bed,  
And with my sword e'en razed my father's bosom,  
For which I was within a stroke of death.  Hip. 
Alack, I'm sorry; 'sfoot just upon the stroke,  
jars in my brother, 'twill be villainous Music.  Vind. 
My honoured Lord.  Enter Vind. Luss. 
Away prithee forsake us, hereafter we'll not know thee.  Vind. 
Not know me my Lord, your Lordship cannot choose.  Lus 
begone I say, thou art a false knave.  Vind. 
Why the easier to be known, my Lord.  Lus. 
Push, I shall prove too bitter with a word,  
Make thee a perpetual prisoner,  
And lay this iron-age upon thee,  Vind. 
Mum, for there's a doom would make a woman dumb,  
Missing the bastard next him, the wind's comes about,  
Now 'tis my brother's turn to stay mine to go out.  Exit Vin. Lus. 
Has greatly moved me.  Hip. 
Much to blame i'faith.  Lus. 
But i'll recover, to his ruin: 'twas told me lately,  
I know not whether falsely, that you'd a brother,  Hip. 
Who I, yes my good Lord, I have a brother  Lus. 
How chance the Court near saw him? of what nature?  
How does he apply his hours?  Hip. 
Faith to curse Fates,  
Who, as he thinks, ordained him to be poor,  
Keeps at home full of want and discontent.  Lus 
There's hope in him, for discontent and want  
Is the best clay to mould, a villain off;  
Hippolito, wish him repair to us,  
If there be aught in him to please our blood,  
For thy sake we'll advance him, and build fair  
His meanest fortunes: for it is in us  
To rear up Towers from cottages.  Hip. 
It is so my Lord, he will attend your honour,  
But he's a man, in whom much melancholy dwells.  Lus. 
Why the better: bring him to Court.  Hip. 
With willingness and speed,  
Whom he cast off e'en now, must now succeed,  
Brother disguise must off,  
In thine own shape now, i'll prefer thee to him:  
How strangely does himself work to undo him.  Exit. Luss. 
This fellow will come fitly, he shall kill,  
That other slave, that did abuse my spleen,  
And made it swell to Treason, I have put  
Much of my heart into him, he must die.  
He that knows great men's secrets and proves slight,  
That man near lives to see his Beard turn white:  
I he shall speed him: I'll employ thee brother,  
Slaves are but Nails, to drive out one another?  
He being of black condition, suitable  
To want and ill content, hope of preferment  
Will grind him to an Edge— The Nobles enter.  1. 
Good days unto your honour.  Luss. 
My kind Lords, I do return the like,  2. 
Saw you my Lord the Duke?  Luss. 
My Lord and Father, is he from Court?  1. 
he's sure from Court,  
But where, which way, his pleasure took we know not,  
Nor can we hear on't.  Luss. 
Here come those should tell,  
Saw you my Lord and Father?  3. 
Not since two hours before noon my Lord,  
And then he privately rid forth.  Lus. 
Oh he's rod forth.  1. 
'twas wondrous privately,  2. 
There's none i'th' Court had any knowledge on't.  Lus. 
His Grace is old, and sudden, 'tis no treason  
To say, the Duke my Father has a humour,  
Or such a Toy about him; what in us  
Would appear light, in him seems virtuous.  3. 
'tis Oracle my Lord.  Exeunt. Enter Vindice and Hippolito, Vind. out of his disguise. Hip. 
So, so, all's as it should be, you're yourself.  Vind. 
How that great-villain puts me to my shifts.  Hip. 
He that did lately, in disguise reject thee;  
Shall now thou art thyself, as much respect thee.  Vind. 
'twill be the quainter fallacy; but brother,  
'sfoot what use will he put me to now thinkst thou?  Hip. 
Nay you must pardon me in that, I know not:  
Has some employment for you: but what 'tis  
He and his Secretary the Devil knows best.  Vind, 
Well I must suit my tongue to his desires,  
What colour soe'er they be; hoping at last  
To pile up all my wishes on his breast,  Hip. 
Faith Brother he himself shows the way.  Vind. 
Now the Duke is dead, the realm is clad in clay:  
His death being not yet known, under his name  
The people still are governed; well, thou his son  
Art not long-lived, thou shalt not joy his death:  
To kill thee then, I should most honour thee;  
For 'twould stand firm in every man's belief,  
Thou'st a kind child, and only diedst with grief.  Hip. 
You fetch about well, but let's talk in present,  
How will you appear in fashion different,  
As well as in apparel, to make all things possible:  
If you be but once tripped, we fall for ever.  
It is not the least policy to be doubtful,  
You must change tongue:— familiar was your first.  Vind. 
Why I'll bear me in some strain of melancholy,  
And string myself with heavy— sounding Wire,  
Like such an Instrument, that speaks merry things sadly.  Hip. 
Then 'tis as I meant,  
I gave you out at first in discontent.  Vind. 
I'll turn myself, and then—  Hip. 
'sfoot here he comes: hast thought upon't.  Vind. 
Salute him, fear not me.  Luss. 
Hippolito.  Hip. 
Your Lordship.  Luss. 
What's he yonder?  Hip. 
'tis Vindici, my discontented Brother,  
Whom, 'cording to your will i'ave brought to Court.  Luss, 
Is that thy brother? beshrew me, a good presence,  
I wonder h'as been from the Court so long?  
Come nearer.  Hip. 
Brother, Lord Lussurioso the Duke son.  Snatches of his hat and makes legs to him. Luss. 
Be more near to us, welcome, nearer yet.  Vind. 
How don you? god you god den.  Luss. 
We thank thee?  
How strangely such a course-homely salute,  
Shows in the Palace, where we greet in fire:  
Nimble and desperate tongues, should we name,  
God in a salutation, 'twould near be stood on't,- heaven!  
Tell me, what has made thee so melancholy.  Vind. 
Why, going to Law.  Luss. 
Why will that make a man melancholy?  Vind. 
Yes, to look long upon ink and black buckram— I went me to law in Anno Quadragesimo secundo, and I waded out of it, in Anno sextagesimo tertio.  Luss. 
What, three and twenty years in law?  Vind. 
I have known those that have been five and fifty and all about pullen and Pigs.  Luss. 
May it be possible such men should breathe,  
To vex the Terms so much.  Vin. 
'tis food to some my Lord. There are old men at the present, that are so poisoned with the affectation of law-words, (having had many suits canvased,) that their common talk is nothing but Barbery latin: they cannot so much as pray, but in law, that their sins may be removed, with a writ of Error, and their souls fetched up to heaven, with a sasarara.  Hip. 
It seems most strange to me,  
Yet all the world meets round in the same bent:  
Where the hearts set, there goes the tongue's consent,  
How dost apply thy studies fellow?  Vind. 
Study why to think how a great rich man lies a dying, and a poor Cobbler tolls the bell for him? how he cannot depart the world, and see the great chest-stand before him, when he lies speechless, how he will point you readily to all the boxes, and when he is past all memory, as the gossips guess, then thinks he of forfeitures and obligations, nay when to all men's hearings he whirls and rattles in the throat he's busy threatening his poor Tenants? and this would last me now some seven years thinking or thereabouts? but, I have a Conceit a coming in picture upon this, I draw it myself, which i'faith la I'll present to your honour, you shall not chose but like it for your Lordship shall give me nothing for it,  Luss. 
Nay you mistake me then,  
For I am published bountiful enough,  
Let's taste of your conceit.  Vin. 
In picture my Lord.  Luss. 
I in picture,  Vin. 
Marry this it is— A usuring Father to be boiling in hell, and his son and Heir with a Whore dancing over him.  Hip. 
Has pared him to the quick.  Lus. 
The conceit's pretty i'faith,  
But take't upon my life 'twill near be liked.  Vind. 
No, why I'm sure the whore will be liked well enough.  Hip. 
I if she were out ath picture heed like her then himself.  Vin. 
And as for the son and heir, he shall be an eyesore to no young Revellers, for he shall be drawn in cloth of gold breeches.  Luss. 
And thou hast put my meaning in the pock,  
And canst not draw that out, my thought was this, ets  
To see the picture of a usuring father  
Boiling in hell, our richmen would near like it,  Vin. 
O true I cry you heartily mercy I know the reason, for some of'em had rather be damned indeed, than damned in colours.  Lus. 
A perilous melancholy, has wit enough,  
To murder any man, and I'll give him means,  
I think thou art ill moneyed;  Vin. 
Money, ho, ho,  
Thas been my want so long, 'tis now my scoff.  
I've e'en forgot what colour silver's off,  Lus. 
It hits as I could wish,  Vin. 
I get good clothes,  
Of those that dread my humour, and for table-room,  
I feed on those that cannot be rid of me,  Lus. 
Somewhat to set thee up withal,  Vin. 
O mine eyes,  Lus. 
How now man.  Vin. 
Almost struck blind,  
This bright unusual shine, to me seems proud,  
I dare not look till the sun be in a cloud,  Lus. 
I think I shall affect his melancholy,  
How are they now.  Vin. 
The better for your asking.  Lus. 
You shall be better yet if you but fasten,  
Truly on my intent, now you're both present  
I will unbrace such a close private villain,  
Unto your vengeful swords, the like near heard of,  
Who hath disgraced you much and injured us,  Hip. 
Disgraced us my Lord?  Lus. 
I Hippolito.  
I kept it here till now that both your angers,  
Might meet him at once,  Vin. 
I'm covetous,  
To know the villain,  Lus. 
You know him that slave Pandar,  
Piato whom we threatened last  
With irons in perpetual prisonment;  Vin. 
All this is I.  Hip. 
be't he my Lord?  Lus. 
I'll tell you, you first preferred him to me.  Vin. 
Did you brother.  Hip. 
I did indeed?  Lus. 
And the ungrateful villain,  
To quit that kindness, strongly wrought with me,  
Being as you see a likely man for pleasure,  
With jewels to corrupt your virgin sister.  Hip. 
Oh villain,  Vin. 
He shall surely die that did it.  Lus. 
I far from thinking any Virgin harm.  
Especially knowing her to be as chaste  
As that part which scarce suffers to be touched,  
Th' eye would not endure him,  Vin. 
Would you not my Lord,  
'twas wondrous honourably done,  Lus. 
But with some five frowns kept him out,  Vin. 
Out slave.  Lus. 
What did me he but in revenge of that,  
Went of his own free will to make infirm,  
Your sister's honour, whom I honour with my soul,  
For chaste respect, and not prevailing there,  
(As 'twas but desperate folly to attempt it,)  
In mere spleen, by the way, way lays your mother,  
Whose honour being a coward as it seems.  
Yielded by little force.  Vind. 
Coward indeed.  Luss. 
He proud of their advantage, (as he thought)  
Brought me these news for happy, but I, heaven forgive me for't.  Vind. 
What did your honour.  Luss. 
In rage pushed him from me.  
Trampled beneath his throat, spurned him, and bruised:  
Indeed I was too cruel to say troth.  Hip. 
Most Nobly managed.  Vind. 
Has not heaven an ear? Is all the lightning wasted?  Luss. 
If I now were so impatient in a modest cause,  
What should you be?  Vind. 
Full mad, he shall not live  
To see the Moon change.  Luss. 
He's about the Palace,  
Hippolito entice him this way, that thy brother  
May take full mark of him.  Hip. 
Heart?— that shall not need my Lord,  
I can direct him so far.  Luss. 
Yet for my hate's sake,  
Go, wind him this way? i'll see him bleed myself.  Hip. 
What now brother?  Vind. 
Nay e'en what you will— you're put to't brother?  Hip. 
An impossible task, I'll swear,  
To bring him hither, that's already here.  Exit Hippo. Luss. 
Thy name, I have forgot it?  Vin. 
Vindice my Lord.  Luss. 
'tis a good name that.  Vind. 
ay, a Revenger.  Luss. 
It does betoken courage, thou shouldst be valiant,  
And kill thine enemies.  Vind. 
That's my hope my Lord.  Luss. 
This slave is one.  Vind. 
I'll doom him.  Luss. 
Then i'll praise thee?  
Do thou observe me best, and I'll best raise thee.  Enter. Hip. Vind. 
Indeed, I thank you.  Luss. 
Now Hippolito, where's the slave Pandar?  Hip. 
Your good Lordship,  
Would have a loathsome sight of him, much offensive?  
he's not in case now to be seen my Lord,  
The worst of all the deadly sins is in him:  
That beggarly damnation, drunkenness.  Luss. 
Then he's a double-slave.  Vind. 
'twas well conveyed, upon a sudden wit.  Luss. 
What, are you both,  
Firmly resolved, i'll see him dead myself.  Vind. 
Or else, let not us live.  Luss. 
You may direct your brother to take note of him.  Hip. 
I shall.  Luss. 
Rise but in this, and you shall never fall.  Vind. 
Your honour's Vassals.  Luss. 
This was wisely carried,  
Deep policy in us, makes fools of such:  
Then must a slave die, when he knows too much.  exit Luss. Vind. 
O thou almighty patience, 'tis my wonder,  
That such a fellow, impudent and wicked,  
Should not be cloven as he stood:  
Or with a secret wind burst open!  
Is there no thunder left, or be't kept up  
In stock for heavier vengeance, there it goes!  Hip. 
Brother we lose ourselves?  Vind. 
But I have found it,  
'twill hold, 'tis sure, thanks, thanks to any spirit,  
That mingled it 'mongst my inventions.  Hip. 
What be't?  Vind. 
'tis sound, and good, thou shalt partake it,  
I'm hired to kill myself.  Hip. 
True.  Vind. 
Prithee mark it,  
And the old Duke being dead, but not conveyed,  
For he's already missed too, and you know:  
Murder will peep out of the closest husk.  Hip. 
Most true?  Vind. 
What say you then to this device,  
If we dressed up the body of the Duke.  Hip. 
In that disguise of yours.  Vind. 
You're quick, y' Ave reached it.  Hip. 
I like it wondrously.  Vind. 
And being in drink, as you have published him,  
To lean him on his elbow, as if sleep had caught him:  
Which claims most interest in such sluggy men.  Hip. 
Good yet, but here's a doubt,  
methought byth' Duke's son to kill that pandar,  
Shall when he is known be thought to kill the Duke.  Vind. 
Neither, O thanks, it is substantial  
For that disguise being on him, which I wore,  
It will be thought I, which he calls the Pandar, did kill the Duke, & fled away in his apparel, leaving him so disguised, to avoid swift pursuit.  Hip. 
Firmer, and firmer.  Vind. 
Nay doubt not 'tis in grain, I warrant it hold colour.  Hip. 
Let's about it.  Vind. 
But by the way too, now I think on't, brother,  
Let's conjure that base devil out of our Mother.  Exeunt. Enter the Duchess arm in arm with the Bastard: he seemeth lasciviously to her, after them, Enter Superuacuo, running with a rapier, his Brother stops him. Spuri. 
Madam, unlock yourself, should it be seen,  
Your arm would be suspected.  Duch. 
Who it's that dares suspect, or this, or these?  
May not we deal our favours where we please?  Spu. 
I'm confident, you may.  Exeunt. Amb. 
'sfoot brother hold.  Sup. 
wilt let the Bastard shame us?  Amb. 
Hold, hold, brother? there's fitter time than now.  Sup. 
Now when I see it.  Amb. 
'tis too much seen already.  Sup. 
Seen and known,  
The Nobler she's, the baser is she grown.  Amb. 
If she were bent lasciviously, the fault  
Of mighty women, that sleep soft,— O death,  
Must she needs choose such an unequal sinner:  
To make all worse.  Sup. 
A Bastard, the Duke's Bastard, Shame heaped on shame.  Amb. 
O our disgrace.  
Most women have small waste the world throughout,  
But there desires are thousand miles about.  Exeunt. Sup. 
Come stay not here, let's after, and prevent,  
Or else the i'll sin faster than we'll repent.  Enter Vindice and Hippolito, bringing out there Mother one by one shoulder, and the other by the other, with daggers in their hands. Vind. 
O thou? for whom no name is bad enough.  Moth. 
What means my sons what will you murder me?  Vind. 
Wicked unnatural Parents.  Hip. 
Fiend of women.  Moth. 
Ohlare sons turned monsters? help.  Vind. 
In vain.  Moth. 
Are you so barbarous to set Iron nipples  
Upon the breast that gave you suck.  Vind. 
That breast,  
Is turned to Quarled poison.  Moth. 
Cut not your days for't, am not I your mother?  Vind. 
Thou dost usurp that title now by fraud  
For in that shell of mother breeds a bawd.  Moth. 
A bawd? O name far loathsomer than hell.  Hip. 
It should be so knewst thou thy Office well.  Mother 
I hate it.  Vind. 
Ah be't possible, Thou only, you powers on high,  
That women should dissemble when they die.  Mot. 
Dissemble.  Vind. 
Did not the Duke's son direct  
A fellow, of the world's condition, hither,  
That did corrupt all that was good in thee:  
Made thee uncivilly forget thyself,  
And work our sister to his lust.  Moth. 
Who I,  
That had been monstrous? I defy that man:  
For any such intent, none lives so pure,  
But shall be soiled with slander,— good son believe it not,  Vind. 
Oh I'm in doubt,  
Whether I'm myself, or no,  
Stay, let me look again upon this face.  
Who shall be saved when mothers have no grace.  Hip. 
'twould make one half despair.  Vind. 
I was the man,  
Defy me, now? let's see, do't modestly.  Moth. 
O hell unto my soul.  Vind. 
In that disguise, I sent from the Duke's son,  
Tried you, and found you base metal,  
As any villain might have done.  Mo. 
One, no tongue but yours could have bewitched me so.  Vind. 
O nimble in damnation, quick in tune,  
There is no devil could strike fire so soon:  
I am confuted in a word.  Mot. 
Oh sons, forgive me, to myself i'll prove more true,  
You that should honour me, I kneel to you.  Vind. 
A mother to give aim to her own daughter.  Hip. 
True brother, how far beyond nature 'tis,  
Though many Mother's do't.  Vind. 
Nay and you draw tears once, go you to bed,  
Wet will make iron blush and change to red:  
Brother it rains, 'twill spoil your dagger, house it.  Hip 
'tis done.  Vin. 
I'faith 'tis a sweet shower, it does much good,  
The fruitful grounds, and meadows of her soul,  
Has been long dry: power down thou blessed dew,  
Rise Mother, troth this shower has made you higher.  Mot. 
O you heavens? take this infectious spot out of my soul,  
I'll rinse it in seven waters of mine eyes?  
Make my tears salt enough to taste of grace,  
To weep, is to our sex: naturally given:  
But to weep truly that's a gift from heaven?  Vind. 
Nay I'll kiss you now: kiss her brother?  
Let's marry her to our souls, wherein's no lust,  
And honourably love her.  Hip. 
Let it be.  Vind. 
For honest women are so filled and rare,  
'tis good to cherish those poor few that are.  
Oh you of easy wax, do but imagine  
Now the disease has left you, how leprously  
That Office would have clinged unto your forehead,  
All mothers that had any graceful hue,  
Would have worn masks to hide their face at you:  
It would have grown to this, at your foul name;  
Green-colored maids would have turned red with shame?  Hip. 
And then our sister full of hire, and baseness.  Vind. 
There had been boiling led again,  
The Duke's sons great Concubine:  
A drab of State, a cloth a silver slut,  
To have her train borne up, and her soul trail i'th' dirt; great.  Hip. 
To be miserably great, rich to be eternally wretched.  Vind. 
O common madness:  
Ask but the thrivingst harlot in cold blood,  
she'd give the world to make her honour good,  
Perhaps you'll say but only toth' Duke's son,  
In private; why, she first begins with one,  
Who afterward to thousand proves a whore:  
Break Ice in one place, it will crack in more.  Mother. 
Most certainly applied?  Hip. 
Oh Brother, you forget our business.  Vind. 
And well remembered, joy's a subtle elf,  
I think man's happiest, when he forgets himself:  
Farewell once dried, now holy-watered Mead,  
Our hearts wear Feathers, that before wore Lead.  Mother. 
I'll give you this, that one I never knew  
Plead better, for, and 'gainst the Devil, than you.  Vind. 
You make me proud on't.  Hip. 
Commend us in all virtue to our Sister.  Vind. 
I for the love of heaven, to that true maid.  Mother. 
With my best words.  Vind. 
Why that was motherly said.  Exeunt. Mother. 
I wonder now what fury did transport me?  
I feel good thoughts begin to settle in me.  
Oh with what forehead can I look on her?  
Whose honour I've so impiously beset,  
And here she comes,  Cast. 
Now mother, you have wrought with me so strongly,  
That what for my advancement, as to calm  
The trouble of your tongue: I am content.  Mother. 
Content, to what?  Cast. 
To do as you have wished me,  
To prostitute my breast to the Duke's son:  
And put myself to common Usury.  Mother. 
I hope you will not so.  Cast. 
Hope you I will not?  
That's not the hope you look to be saved in.  Mother. 
Truth but it is.  Cast. 
Do not deceive yourself,  
I am, as you e'en out of Marble wrought,  
What would you now, are ye not pleased yet with me,  
You shall not wish me to be more lascivious  
Than I intend to be.  Mother. 
Strike not me cold,  Cast. 
How often have you charged me on your blessing  
To be a cursed woman— when you knew,  
Your blessing had no force to make me lewd,  
You laid your curse upon me, that did more,  
The mother's curse is heavy, where that fights,  
Sons set in storm, and daughters lose their lights?  Moth. 
Good child, dear maid, if there be any spark  
Of heavenly intellectual fire within thee, oh let my breath,  
Revive it to a flame:  
Put not all out, with woman's wilful follies,  
I am recovered of that foul disease  
That haunts too many mothers, kind forgive me,  
Make me not sick in health?— if then  
My words prevailed when they were wickedness,  
How much more now when they are just and good?  Cast. 
I wonder what you mean, are not you she  
For whose infect persuasions I could scarce  
Kneel out my prayers, and had much ado  
In three hours reading, to untwist so much  
Of the black serpent, as you wound about me.  Moth. 
'tis unfruitful, held tedious to repeat what's past,  
I'm now your present Mother.  Cast. 
Push, now 'tis too late,  Moth. 
Bethink again, thou know'st not what thou sayst.  Cast. 
No, deny advancement, treasure, the Duke's son.  Moth. 
O see, I spoke those words, and now they poison me:  
What will the deed do then?  
Advancement, true: as high as shame can pitch,  
For Treasure; who ere knew a harlot rich?  
Or could build by the purchase of her sin,  
An hospital to keep their bastards in: The Duke's son,  
Oh when women are young Courtiers, they are sure to be old beggars,  
To know the miseries most harlots taste,  
Thou'dst wish thyself unborn, when thou art unchaste.  Cast. 
O mother let me twine about your neck,  
And kiss you till my soul melt on your lips,  
I did but this to try you.  Mot. 
O speak truth.  Cast. 
Indeed I did not, for no tongue has force to alter me from honest  
If maidens would, men's words could have no power,  
A virgin honour is a crystal Tower.  
Which being weak is guarded with good spirits,  
Until she basely yields no ill inherits.  Mot. 
O happy child! faith and thy birth hath saved me,  
'mongst thousand daughters happiest of all others,  
Buy thou a glass for maids and I for mothers.  Exeunt. Enter Vindice and Hippolito. Vin. 
So, so, he leans well, take heed you wake him not brother  Hip. 
I warrant you my life for yours.  Vin. 
That's a good lay, for I must kill myself?  
Brother that's I: that sits for me: do you mark it,  
And I must stand ready here to make away myself yonder— I must sit to be killed, and stand to kill myself, I could vary it not so little as thrice over again, 'thas some eight returns like Michaelmas Term.  Hip. 
That's enough a conscience.  Vind. 
But sirrah does the Duke's son come single?  Hip. 
No, there's the hell on't, his faith's too feeble to go alone? he brings flesh-flies after him, that will buzz against supper time, and hum for his coming out.  Vind. 
Ah the fly-flop of vengeance beat 'em to pieces? here was the sweetest occasion, the fittest hour, to have made my revenge familiar with him, show him the body of the Duke his father, and how quaintly he died like a Politician in hugger-mugger, made no man acquainted with it, and in Catastrophe slain him over his father's breast, and oh I'm mad to lose such a sweet opportunity.  Hip. 
Nay push, prithee be content! there's no remedy present, may not hereafter times open in as fair faces as this.  Vind. 
They may if they can paint so well?  Hip. 
Come, now to avoid all suspicion, let's forsake this room, and be going to meet the Duke's son.  Vind. 
Content, I'm for any wether? heart step close, here he comes?  Ent. Luff. Hip. 
My honoured Lord?  Lus. 
Oh me; you both present.  Vin. 
E'en newly my Lord, just as your Lordship entered now? about this place we had notice given he should be, but in some  Hip. 
Came your honour private?  Luss. 
Private enough for this: only a few  
Attend my coming out.  Hip. 
Death rot those few.  Luss. 
Stay yonder's the slave.  Vind. 
Mass there's the slave indeed my Lord;  
'tis a good child, he calls his Father slave.  Luss. 
ay, that's the villain, the damned villain: softly,  
Tread easy.  Vin. 
Puh, I warrant you my Lord, we'll stifle in our breaths.  Luss. 
That will do well:  
Base rogue, thou sleepest thy last, 'tis policy,  
To have him killed in's sleep, for if he waked  
He would betray all to them.  Vind. 
But my Lord.  Luss. 
Ha, what sayst?  Vind. 
Shall we kill him now he's drunk?  Lus. 
I best of all.  Vind. 
Why then he will near live to be sober?  Lus. 
No matter, let him reel to hell.  Vind. 
But being so full of liquour, I fear he will put out all the fire,  Lus. 
Thou art a mad breast.  Vin. 
And leave none to warm your Lordship's golls withal; For he that dies drunk, falls into hell fire like a Bucket a water, qush qush.  Lus. 
Come be ready, take your swords, think of your wrongs  
This slave has injured you.  Vind. 
Troth so he has, and he has paid well for't.  Lus. 
Meet with him now.  Vin. 
You'll bear us out my Lord?  Lus. 
Puh, am I a Lord for nothing think you, quickly, now.  Vind. 
Sa, sa, sa: thump, there he lies.  Lus. 
Nimbly done, ha? oh, villains, murderers,  
'tis the old Duke my father.  Vind. 
That's a jest.  Lus. 
What stiff and cold already?  
O pardon me to call you from your names:  
'tis none of your deed,— that villain Piato  
Whom you thought now to kill, has murdered him,  
And left him thus disguised.  Hip. 
And no unlikely.  Vind. 
O rascal was he not ashamed,  
To put the Duke into a greasy doublet.  Luss. 
He has been cold and stiff who knows, how long?  Vind. 
Marry that do I.  Luss. 
No words I pray, off any thing intended:  Vind. 
Oh my Lord.  Hip. 
I would same have your Lordship think that we have small reason to prate.  Lus 
Faith thou sayst true? i'll forthwith send to Court,  
For all the Nobles, Bastard, duchess, all?  
How here by miracle we found him dead,  
And in his raiment that foul villain fled.  Vind. 
That will be the best way my Lord, to clear us all: let's cast about to be clear.  Luss. 
Ho, Nencio, Sordido, and the rest.  Enter all. 1. 
My Lord.  2. 
My Lord.  Lus. 
Be witnesses of a strange spectacle:  
Choosing for private conference that sad room  
We found the Duke my father gealed in blood.  1. 
My Lord the Duke— run hie thee Nencio,  
Startle the Court by signifying so much.  Vind. 
Thus much by wit a deep Revenger can:  
When murders known to be the clearest man  
We're furthest off, and with as bold an eye,  
Survey his body as the standers by.  Luss. 
My royal father, too basely let blood,  
By a malevolent slave.  Hip. 
Hark? he calls thee slave again.  Vin. 
Has lost, he may.  Lus. 
Oh sight, look hither, see, his lips are gnawn with poison.  Vin. 
How— his lips byth' mass they be.  Lus. 
O villain— O rogue— O slave— O rascal:  Hip. 
O good deceit, he quits him with like terms.  1. 
Where.  2. 
Which way.  Amb. 
Over what roof hangs this prodigious Comet,  
In deadly fire.  Lus. 
Behold, behold my Lords the Duke my fathers murdered by a vassal, that owes this habit, and here left disguised.  Duch. 
My Lord and husband.  2. 
Reverend Majesty.  1. 
I have seen these clothes, often attending on him.  Vin. 
That Nobleman, has been i'th' Country, for he does not lie?  Sup. 
Learn of our mother let's dissemble to,  
I am glad he's vanished; so I hope are you?  Amb. 
I you may take my word for't.  Spur. 
Old Dad, dead?  
ay, one of his cast sins will send the Fates  
Most hearty commendations by his own son,  
I'll tug in the new stream, till strength be done.  Lus. 
Where be those two, that did affirm to us?  
My Lord the Duke was privately rid forth?  1. 
O pardon us my Lords, he gave that charge  
Upon our lives if he were missed at Court,  
To answer so; he rode not anywhere,  
We left him private with that fellow here?  Vind. 
confirmed.  Lus. 
O heavens, that false charge was his death,  
Impudent Beggars, durst you to our face,  
Maintain such a false answer? bear him straight to execution.  1. 
My Lord?  Luss. 
Urge me no more.  
In this the excuse, may be called half the murder?  Vind. 
you've sentenced well.  Luss. 
Away see it be done.  Vind. 
Could you not stick: see what confession doth?  
Who would not lie when men are hanged for truth?  Hip. 
Brother how happy is our vengeance.  Vin. 
Why it hits, past the apprehension of indifferent wits.  Luss, 
My Lord let post horse be sent,  
Into all places to entrap the villain,  Vin. 
Post-horse ha ha.  Nob. 
My Lord, we're something bold to know our duty?  
Your fathers accidentally departed,  
The titles that were due to him, meet you.  Lus. 
Meet me? I'm not at leisure my good Lord,  
I've many griefs to dispatch out ath way:  
Welcome sweet titles,— talk to me my Lords,  
Of sepulchres, and mighty Emperor's bones,  
That's thought for me.  Vind. 
So, one may see by this,  
How foreign markets go:  
Courtiers have feet ath nines, and tongues ath twelves,  
They flatter Dukes and Dukes flatter themselves.  Nob. 
My Lord it is your shine must comfort us.  Luss. 
Alas I shine in tears like the Sun in April.  Nobl. 
Your now my Lords grace?  Luss. 
My Lords grace? I perceive you'll have it so.  Nobl. 
'tis but your own.  Luss. 
Then heavens give me grace to be so?  Vind 
He prays well for himself.  Nobl. 
madam all sorrows,  
Must run their circles into joys, no doubt but time,  
Will make the murderer bring forth himself.  Vind. 
He were an Ass then i'faith?  Nob. 
In the mean season,  
Let us bethink the latest-funerall honours:  
Endue to the Duke's cold body,— and withal,  
Calling to memory our new happiness,  
Spread in his royal son,— Lords Gentlemen,  
Prepare for Revels.  Vind. 
Revels.  Nobl. 
Time hath several falls,  
Griefs lift up joys, feasts put down funerals.  Lus. 
Come then my Lords, my favours to you all,  
The Duchess is suspected, foully bent,  
I'll begin Dukedom with her banishment?  Exeunt Duke Hip. 
Revels.  Nobles and duchess. Vind. 
ay, that's the word, we are firm yet,  
Strike one strain more, and then we crown our wit.  Exeu. Bro. Spu. 
Well, have the fairest mark,— (so said the Duke when he begot me,)  
And if I miss his heart or near about,  
Then have at any a Bastard scorns to be out.  Sup. 
Notest thou that Spurio brother.  And, 
Yes I note him to our shame.  Super. 
He shall not live, his hair shall not grow much longer? in this time of Revels tricks may be set a foot, seest thou yond new Moon, it shall outlive the new Duke by much, this hand shall dispossess him, than we're mighty.  
A mask is treason's licence, that build upon?  
'tis murder's best face when a vizard's on.  Exit Super. Amb. 
be't so, 'tis very good,  
And do you think to be Duke then, kind brother:  
I'll see fair play, drop one, and there lies other.  Exit Ambi. Enter Vindice & Hippolito, with Piero and other Lords. Vind. 
My Lords; be all of Music, strike old griefs into other countries  
That flow in too much milk, and have faint livers,  
Not daring to stab home their discontents:  
Let our hid flames break out, as fire, as lightning,  
To blast this villainous Dukedom: vexed with sin;  
Wind up your souls to their full height again.  Piero. 
How?  1. 
Which way?  3. 
Any way: our wrongs are such,  
We cannot justly be revenge de too much.  Vind. 
You shall have all enough:— Revels are toward,  
And those few Nobles that have long suppressed you,  
Are busied to the furnishing of a Mask:  
And do affect to make a pleasant tail on't,  
The Masking suits are fashioning, now comes in  
That which must glad us all— we to take pattern  
Of all those suits, the colour, trimming, fashion,  
E'en to an undistinguished hair almost:  
Then entering first, observing the true form,  
Within a strain or two we shall find leisure,  
To steal our swords out handsomely,  
And when they think their pleasure sweet and good,  
In midst of all their joys, they shall sigh blood.  Pie. 
Weightily, effectually, 3. before the other Maskers come.  Vind. 
We're gone, all done and passed.  Pie. 
But how for the Duke's guard?  Vind. 
Let that alone,  
By one and one their strengths shall be drunk down,  Hip. 
There are five hundred Gentlemen in the action,  
That will apply themselves, and not stand idle.  Pier. 
Oh let us hug your bosoms.  Vin. 
Come my Lords,  
Prepare for deeds, let other times have words.  Exeunt. In a dumb show, the possessing of the young Duke. with all his Nobles: Then sounding Music. A furnished Table is brought forth: then enters the Duke & his Nobles to the banquot. A blazing-star appeareth. Noble. 
Many harmonious hours, and choicest pleasures,  
Fill up the royal numbers of your years.  Lus. 
My Lords we're pleased to thank you?— though we know,  
'tis but your duty now to wish it so.  Nob. 
That shine makes us all happy.  3. Nob. 
His Grace frowns?  2. Nob. 
Yet we must say he smiles.  1. Nob. 
I think we must.  Lus. 
That foul-incontinent Duchess we have banished,  
The Bastard shall not live: after these Revels  
I'll begin strange ones; he and the stepsons,  
Shall pay their lives for the first subsidies,  
We must not frown so soon, else t'had been now?  1. Nob. 
My gracious Lord please you prepare for pleasure,  
The mask is not far off.  Lus. 
We are for pleasure,  
Beshrew thee, what art thou? mad'st me start?  
Thou hast committed treason,— A blazing star.  1, Nob. 
A blazing star, O where my Lord.  Lus. 
Spy out.  2. Noble 
See, see, my Lords, a wondrous-dreadful one.  Lus. 
I am not pleased at that ill-knotted fire,  
That bushing-flaring star,— am not I Duke?  
It should not quake me now: had it appeared,  
Before it, I might then have justly feared,  
But yet they say, whom art and learning Weds:  
When stars were locks, they threaten great-men's heads,  
Is it so? you are read my Lords.  1. Nob. 
May it please your Grace,  
It shows great anger.  Lus. 
That does not please our Grace.  2. Nob. 
Yet here's the comfort my Lord, many times.  
When it seems most it threatens farthest off.  Lus. 
Faith and I think so too.  1. Nob. 
Beside my Lord,  
You're gracefully established with the loves  
Of all your subjects: and for natural death,  
I hope it will be threescore years a coming.  Lus. 
True, no more but threescore years.  1. Nob. 
fourscore I hope my Lord:  2, Nob. 
And five-score, ay,  3, Nob. 
But 'tis my hope my Lord, you shall near die.  Lus. 
Give me thy hand, these others I rebuke,  
He that hopes so, is sittest for a Duke:  
Thou shalt sit next me, take your places Lords,  
We're ready now for sports, let 'em set on.  
You thing? we shall forget you quite anon!  3. Nob. 
I hear 'em coming my Lord.  Enter the Mask of Revengers the two Brothers, and two Lords more. Lus. 
Ah 'tis well,  
Brothers, and Bastard, you dance next in hell?  The Revengers dance? At the end, steal out their swords, and these four kill the four at the Table, in their Chairs, It thunders. Vind. 
Mark, Thunder?  
Dost know thy cue, thou big-voicest crier?  
Duke's groans, are thunders watchwords,  Hip. 
So my Lords, You have enough.  Vind. 
Come let's away, no lingering.  Exeunt. Hip. 
Follow, go?  Vind. 
No power is angry when the lustful die,  
When thunderclaps, heaven likes the tragedy.  Exit Vin. Lus. 
Oh, oh.  Enter the other Mask of intended murderers? Stepsons; Bastard; and a fourth man, coming in dancing, the Duke recovers a little in voice, and groans,— calls a guard, treason. At which they all start out of their measure, and turning towards the Table, they find them all to be murdered. Spur. 
Whose groan was that?  Lus. 
Treason, a guard.  Amb. 
How now? all murdered!  Super. 
Murdered!  4. 
And those his Nobles?  Amb. 
Here's a labour saved,  
I thought to have sped him, 'sblood how came this.  Spur. 
Then I proclaim myself, now I am Duke.  Amb. 
Thou Duke,! brother thou liest.  Spu. 
Slave so dost thou?  4. 
Base villain hast thou slain my Lord and Master.  Enter the first men. Vind. 
pistols, treason, murder, help, guard my Lord the Duke.  Hip. 
Lay hold upon this Traitors?  Lus. 
Oh.  Vind. 
Alas, the Duke is murdered.  Hip. 
And the Nobles.  Vin. 
Surgeons, Surgeons,— heart does he breathe so long.  Ant. 
A piteous tragedy, able to wake,  
An old man's eyes bloodshot;  Luss. 
Oh.  Vin. 
Look to my Lord the duke —a vengeance throttle him.  
Confess thou murderous and unhollowed man,  
Didst thou kill all these?  4. 
None but the Bastard I,  Vin. 
How came the Duke slain then;  4. 
We found him so,  Luss. 
O villain,  Vin, 
Hark.  Luss. 
Those in the mask did murder us,  Vin, 
la you now sir.  
O marble impudence! will you confess now?  4. 
'slud 'tis all false,  Ant. 
Away with that foul monster,  
Dipped in a PRINCE's blood.  4. 
Heart 'tis a lie,  Ant. 
Let him have bitter execution,  Vin. 
New marrow no I cannot be expressed,  
How fairs my Lord the Duke.  Luss 
Farewell to all,  
He that climbs highest has the greatest fall,  
My tongue is out of office.  Vin. 
Air Gentlemen, air,  
Now thou'lt not prate on't, 'twas Vindice murdered thee,  Luss. 
Oh.  Vin. 
Murdered thy Father.  Luss. 
Oh.  Vin. 
And I am he-tell nobody, so so, the Duke's departed,  Ant. 
It was a deadly hand that wounded him,  
The rest, ambitious who should rule and sway,  
After his death were so made all away,  Vin. 
My Lord was unlikely,  Hip. 
Now the hope,  
Of Italy lies in your reverend years?  Vin. 
Your hair, will make the silver age again,  
When there was fewer but more honest men,  Anto. 
The burdens weighty and will press age down,  
May I so rule that heaven nay keep the crown,  Vin. 
The rape of your good Lady has been quited,  
With death on death.  Ant. 
Just is the Law above  
 
 Ant. 
It was 〈…〉, I not hard of the like,  Hip. 
'twas all done for the best my Lord,  Vin. 
All for your grace's good good? we may be bold to speak it now,  
'twas somewhat witty carried though we say it.  
'twas we two murdered him,  Ant. 
You two?  Vin, 
None else i'faith my Lord nay 'twas well managed,  Ant. 
Lay hands upon those villains.  Vin. 
How? on us?  Ant. 
Bear 'em two speedy execution,  Vin, 
Heart waste not for your good my Lord?  Ant. 
My good away with 'em such an old man as he,  
You that would murder him would murder me,  Vin. 
be't come about;  Hip. 
'sfoot brother you begun,  Vin. 
May not we set as well as the Duke's son,  
Thou hast no conscience, are we not revenged?  
Is there one enemy left alive amongst those?  
'tis time to die, when we are ourselves our foes.  
When murders shut deeds close, this curse does seal 'em,  
If none disclose 'em they themselves reveal 'em!  
This murder might have slept in tongueless brass,  
But for ourselves, and the world died an ass;  
Now I remember too, here was Piato.  
Brought forth a knavish sentence once, no doubt (said he) but time  
Will make the murderer bring forth himself?  
'tis well he died, he was a witch,  
And now my Lord, since we are in for ever:  
This work was ours which else might have been slipped,  
And if we list we could have Nobles clipped,  
And go for less than beggars, but we hate  
〈…〉 we have enough,  
〈…〉 Mother turned our Sister true,  
〈◊〉 after a nest of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  Exeunt Ant. 
How subtly was that murder closed, bear up,  
These tragic bodies, 'tis a heavy season:  
〈◊〉 when their blood may wash away all treason.  Exit 
FINIS.