Women pleased.  

Actus primus,  

Scaena prima.  Enter Bartello, and Silvio. Sil. 
'tIs true she is a right good Princes, and a just one;  
And Florence when she sets has lost a Planet.  Bar. 
My Mistress? I tell thee gentle Nephew,  
There is not such another friend to goodness,  
To downright dealing, to faith and true heart  
Within the Christian confines: Before she blessed us,  
Justice was a Cheesemonger; a mere Cheesemonger,  
Weighed nothing to the World but mites and maggots,  
And a main stink: Law like a Horse-courser,  
Her rules, and precepts hung with gauds and ribbons,  
And pampered up to cozen him that bought her,  
When she herself was hackney lame and foundered.  Sil. 
But the sweet Lady,  
Belvidere the bright one—  Bar. 
ay, there's a face indeed: O my dear Nephew;  
Could a young fellow of thy fiery mettle  
Freeze, and that Lady in his arms?  Sil. 
I think not.  Bar. 
Thou hast a perilous judgement; but let that pass,  
She is as truly virtuous, fair, and noble,  
As her great Mother's good; and that's not ordinary.  Sil. 
But why (so many Princes, and so great ones  
Being Suitors) should the Duchess deny to match her?  Bar. 
She is a Jewel man, hangs in her bosom,  
Her only Child: with her eyes she sees all things,  
Discourses with her tongue, and pluck her from her  
(So dotingly the old one loves her young one)  
You pluck her heart out too: Besides, of late days,  
The Duke of Milan, who could never win her  
By love, nor treaty, laid a close train for her  
In her own private walks: some forty Horsemen,  
So to surprise her; which we found, and dealt with,  
And sent 'em running home to the Duke their Master,  
Like Dogs with bottles at their tails.  Sil. 
Since that, I heard Sir,  
She has sent her to your Citadel to secure her,  
My x Rhodope, your wife attending her.  Bar. 
You hear a truth, and all convenient pleasures  
Are there proportioned for her.  Sil. 
I would feign Sir,  
Like one that owes a duteous service to her  
Sometimes, so please you—  Bar. 
Gentle x pardon me,  
I must not, nor you must not dare to offer,  
The last Edict lies on his life pursues it;  
Your friend Sir to command, abroad to love you,  
To lend ye any thing I have, to wait upon ye,  
But in the Citadel where I stand charged,  
Not a bit upon a march: no service Sir,  
No, good Sir by no means: I kiss your hands Sir. Exit.  Sil. 
To your keeping only? none else to look upon her?  
None but Bartello worthy her attendance?  
No faith but his to serve her? O Belvidere,  
Thou Saint to whom my youth is sacrificed,  
Thou point to which my life turns, and my fortune,  
Art thou locked from me now? from all my comforts,  
Art thou snatched violently? thou hear'st me not,  
Nor canst thou see (fair soul) thy servant's mournings,  
Yet let thy gentle heart feel what is absence,  
The great divorce of minds so truly loving,  
So long, and nursed in one affection  
Even from our infant eyes, sucked in and nourished:  
O let it feel but that, and there stand constant  
And I am blessed. My dear Niece Rodope,  
That is her Governess, did love me dearly,  
There's one hope yet to see her: when he is absent  
It may be ventured, and she may work it closely:  
I know the Ladies will goes equal with me,  
And so the danger of the Edict avoided;  
Let me think more, for I must try all hazards.  Enter Claudio, and Soto. Soto. 
Will ye go yonder Sir?  Cla. 
Yes marry will I Sir.  Soto. 
And by this Ladder?  Cla. 
By that Ladder, coxcomb.  Soto. 
Have ye any more necks at home when this is broken,  
For this will crack with the best friend he has Sir?  
Or can you pitch of all four, like an Ape now?  
Let me see you tumble.  Cla. 
You are very pleasant Sir.  Soto. 
No truly Sir, I should be loath to see ye  
Come fluttering down like a young Rook, cry squab,  
And take ye up with your brains beaten into your buttocks  Cla. 
Hold your peace Ass: who's this stands musing here?  
Silvio?  Sil. 
Who calls me?  Cla. 
One most glad to see you Sir.  Sil. 
My dearest Claudio? what make you thus private,  
And with a preparation of this nature?  Soto. 
We have leave to play, and are going to climb Birds nests.  Sil. 
Prithee what is it friend? why start ye from me?  
Is your old Mistress grown so coy and cruel,  
She must be scaled? it seems you are loath to tell me,  
Since twenty years' continuance of our friendship  
May not be worth the weight of such a secret,  
'Twill be but rude to ask again: 'save ye.  Cla. 
Nay stay, dear Silvio, if you love me take it:  
For till you know it, never woman laboured  
As I do now.  Sil. 
I'll do my best to ease it.  Cla. 
You have heard the Lady Belvidere—  Sil. 
What heard Sir?  Cla. 
Herd to the Citadel, upon some fears  
She is confined.  Sil. 
Why dreams he on this beauty?  
'Tis true, I have heard it.  Cla. 
And that no access,  
No blessing from those eyes but with much hazard,  
Even hazard of a life.  Sil. 
He dares not love her;  
I have heard that too: but whither points your purpose?  Cla. 
O Silvio, let me speak that none may hear me,  
None but thy truth: I have loved this Lady long,  
Long given away my life to her devotion,  
Long dwelled upon that beauty to my ruin.  Sil. 
does she know this?  Cla. 
No, there begins my misery,  
Ixion-like, I have only yet clasped Clouds,  
And fed upon poor empty dreams that starve me.  Sil. 
And what do you mean to do now?  Cla. 
Though I die for't,  
Though all the tortures in the world hung on me,  
Armed with imperious Love, I stand prepared now,  
With this to reach her Chamber: there to see her,  
And tell her boldly with what truth I love her.  Sil. 
'Twill not be easily done Sir.  Cla. 
O my Silvio,  
The hardest things are sweetest in possession.  Sil. 
Nor will show much discretion.  Cla. 
Love is blind man,  
And he that looks for reason there far blinder.  Sil. 
Have ye considered ripely?  Cla. 
All that may fall,  
And armed against that all.  Sil. 
Her honour too?  
What she may suffer in this rash adventure?  
The beauty of her name?  Cla. 
I'll do it closely,  
And only at her window, with that caution—  Sil. 
Are there no Guards?  Cla. 
Corruption chokes their service.  Sil. 
Or do you hold her bred so light a woman  
To hold commerce with strange tongues?  Cla. 
Why this service,  
This only hazard of my life must tell her,  
Though she were Vesta's self, I must deserve her.  Sil. 
I would not have ye go: pray let it sink here,  
And think a nobler way to raise your service,  
A safer, and a wiser.  Cla. 
'Tis too late Sir.  Sil. 
Then I must say, You shall not go.  Cla. 
I shall not?  Sil. 
You shall not go: that part bred with ye, friendship  
Bids me say boldly so, and you observe me.  Cla. 
You stretch that tie too far.  Sil. 
I'll stretch it farther:  
The honour that I bear that spotless virtue  
You foully seek to taint, unnobly covet,  
Bids me command ye stay: if not, thus force ye.  Soto. 
This will be worse than climbing.  Cla. 
Why do ye draw Sir?  Sil. 
To kill thee, if thy base will be thy Master.  Cla. 
I ever was your friend.  Sil. 
Whilst thou wert honest,  
And not a Night-thief of another's honour;  
I never called a Fool my friend, a madman,  
That durst expose his fame to all opinions,  
His life to unhonest dangers: I never loved him,  
Durst know his name, that sought a virgin's ruin,  
Nor ever took I pleasure in acquaintance  
With men, that give as loose reins to their fancies  
As the wild Ocean to his raging fluxes:  
A noble soul I twin with, and my love  
Follows, his life dares master his affections.  
Will ye give off, or fight?  Cla. 
I will not fight with ye:  
The sacred name of friend ties up that anger,  
Rather I'll study.  Sil. 
Do, to be a friend still.  Cla. 
If this way, I shall never hold.  Sil. 
I'll watch ye:  
And if I catch ye false: by Heaven ye die for't,  
All love forgot.  Cla. 
When I fear that I am fit for't. Exeunt.   

Scaena Secunda.  Enter Lopez at a Table with jewels and money upon it, an Egg roasting by a Candle. Lop. 
Whilst prodigal young gaudy Fools are banqueting,  
And launching out their states to catch the giddy,  
Thus do I study to preserve my fortune,  
And hatch with care at home the wealth that Saints me.  
Here's Rubies of Bengala, rich, rich, glorious;  
These Diamonds of Ormus bought for little,  
Here vented at the price of PRINCE's Ransoms;  
How bright they shine like constellations,  
The South seas treasure here, Pearl, fair and orient  
Able to equal Cleapatra's Banquet,  
Here chains of lesser stones for ladies' lustres,  
Ingots of Gold, Rings, Brooches, bars of Silver,  
These are my studies to set off in sale well,  
And not in sensual surfeits to consume 'em;  
How roasts mine egg? he heats apace, I'll turn him:  
Penurio, where you knave do you wait? Penurio,  
You lazy knave.  Pen. 
Did you call Sir?  Lop. 
Where's your Mistress?  
What vanity holds her from her attendance?  Pen. 
The very sight of this egg has made him cockish,  
What would a dozen buttered do? She is within Sir.  Lop. 
Within Sir, at what thrift ye knave? what getting?  Pen. 
Getting a good stomach Sir, & she knew where to get meat to it,  
She is praying heartily upon her knees Sir,  
That Heaven would send her a good bearing dinner.  Lop. 
Nothing but gluttony and surfeit thought on,  
Health flung behind: had she not yesternight sirrah  
Two Sprats to supper, and the oil allowable?  
Was she not sick with eating? Hadst not thou,  
(Thou most ungrateful knave, that nothing satisfies)  
The water that I boiled my other egg in  
To make thee hearty broth?  Pen. 
'Tis true, I had Sir;  
But I might as soon make the philosopher's Stone on't,  
You gave it me in water, and but for manners sake,  
I could give it you again in wind, it was so hearty  
I shall turn pissing Conduit shortly: my Mistress comes Sir.  Enter Isabella. Lop. 
Welcome my Dove.  Isab. 
Pray ye keep your welcome to ye,  
Unless it carries more than words to please me,  
Is this the joy to be a Wife? to bring with me,  
Besides the nobleness of blood I spring from,  
A full and able portion to maintain me?  
Is this the happiness of youth and beauty,  
The great content of being made a Mistress,  
To live a Slave subject to wants, and hungers,  
To jealousies for every eye that wanders?  
Unmanly jealousy.  Lop. 
Good Isabella.  Isab. 
Too good for you: do you think to famish me,  
Or keep me like an Almes-woman in such raiment,  
Such poor unhandsome weeds? am I old, or ugly?  
I never was bred thus: and if your misery  
Will suffer wilful blindness to abuse me,  
My patience shall be no Bawd to mine own ruin.  Pen. 
Tickle him Mistress: to him.  Isab. 
Had ye love in ye,  
Or any part of man—  Pen. 
Follow that Mistress.  Isab. 
Or had humanity but ever known ye,  
You would shame to use a woman of my way thus,  
So poor, and basely: you are strangely jealous of me  
If I should give ye cause.  Lop. 
How Isabella?  Isab. 
As do not venture this way to provoke me.  Pen. 
Excellent well Mistress,  Lop. 
How's this Isabella?  Isab. 
'Twill stir a Saint, and I am but a woman,  
And by that tenure may.  Lop. 
By no means Chicken,  
You know I love ye: fie, take no example  
By those young gadding Dames: (you are noted virtuous)  
That stick their husband's wealth in trifles on 'em  
And point 'em but the way to their own miseries:  
I am not jealous, kiss me,— I am not:  
And for your diet, 'tis to keep you healthful,  
Surfeits destroy more than the sword: that I am careful  
Your meat should be both neat, and cleanly handled  
See, Sweet, I am Cook myself, and mine own Cater.  Pen. 
A— of that Cook cannot lick his fingers.  Lop. 
I'll add another dish: you shall have Milk to it,  
'Tis nourishing and good.  Pen. 
With Butter in't Sir?  Lop. 
This knave would breed a famine in a Kingdom:  
And clothes that shall content ye: you must be wise then,  
And live sequestered to yourself and me,  
Not wandering after every toy comes cross ye,  
Nor struck with every spleen: what's the knave doing? Penurio.  Pen. 
Hunting Sir, for a second course of flies here,  
They are rare new Salads.  Lop. 
For certain Isabella  
This ravening fellow has a Wolf in's belly:  
Untemperate knave, will nothing quench thy appetite?  
I saw him eat two Apples, which is monstrous.  Pen. 
If you had given me those 'thad been more monstrous.  Lop. 
'Tis a main miracle to feed this villain,  
Come Isabella, let us in to Supper,  
And think the Roman dainties at our Table,  
'Tis all but thought. Exeunt.  Pen. 
Would all my thoughts would do it:  
The Devil should think of purchasing that Eggshell,  
To victual out a Witch for the Bermoothes:  
'Tis treason to any good stomach living now  
To hear a tedious Grace said, and no meat to 't,  
I have a Radish yet, but that's but transitory. Exit.   

Scena Tertia.  Enter Soto. Soto. 
Can any living man unless a Rascal  
That neither knows himself, nor a fashioned Gentleman  
Take me for a worse man than my Master now?  
I am naturally proud in these clothes: but if pride now  
Should catch a fall in what I am attempting,  
'Tis but a Proverb sound, and a Neck broken,  
That's the worst can come on't: a Gentleman's gone then,  
A Gentleman o'th' first house, there's the end on't:  
My Master lies most pitifully complaining,  
Wringing and kicking up toth' ears in love yonder,  
And such a lamentable noise he keeps, it kills me:  
I have got his clothes, and if I can get to her  
By hook or crook here, such a song I'll sing her—  
I think I shall be hanged, but that's no matter,  
What's a hanging among friends: I am valiant now as an Elephant;  
What's a hanging among friends: I am valiant now as an  
I have considered what to say too: let me see now,  
This is the place, 'tis plaguy high: stay at that lower window  
Let me aim finely now, like a good Gunner,  
It may prove but a whipping.  Enter Silvio. Sil. 
I saw somebody  
Pass by me now, and though it were dark, methought yet  
I knew the clothes: ha, let me not be cozened,  
The Ladder too, ready to fling it? monstrous,  
'Tis he, 'tis Claudio: most voluptuous villain,  
Scandal to woman's credit: Love, I forget thee.  Soto. 
What will he do i'th' name of heaven, what's that there?  Sil. 
And all the friendship that I bore thee, bury here.  Soto. 
What has he in's hand? I hope but a Cudgel.  Sil. 
Thy fault's forgive O Heaven: farewell thou traitor.  Soto. 
I am slain: I am slain.  Sil. 
He's down, and dead: dead certain,  
'Twas too rash, too full of spleen, stark dead:  
This is no place now to repent in, only  
Would I had given this hand that shot the Pistol  
I had missed thee, and thou wert once more Claudio. Exit.  Enter Claudio. Cla. 
Why should I love thus foolishly? thus desperately?  
And give away my heart where no hope's left me?  
Why should not the true counsel of a friend restrain me?  
The devil's mouth I run into affright me,  
The honour of the Lady charm my wildness;  
I have no power, no being of myself,  
No reason strong enough now left within me  
To bind my will: O Love, thou God, or Devil,  
Or what thou art that plays the tyrant in me.  Soto. 
Oh.  Cla. 
What's that cry?  Soto. 
A Surgeon, a Surgeon,  
Twenty good Surgeons.  Cla. 
'Tis not far from me,  
Some Murder o' my life,  Soto. 
Will you let me die here?  
No drink come, nor no Surgeon?  Cla. 
'Tis my man sure,  
His voice, and here he lies: how is it with thee?  Sot. 
I am slain, Sir, I am slain.  Cla. 
Slain? Who has slain thee?  Soto. 
Killed, killed, outright killed.  Cla. 
Where's thy hurt?  Soto. 
I know not,  
But I am sure I am killed.  Cla. 
Canst thou sit up,  
That I may find the hurt out?  Soto. 
I can sit up,  
But ne'er the less I am slain.  Cla. 
'Tis not o''is side?  Soto. 
No Sir, I think it be not.  Cla. 
Nor o' this side,  
Was it done with a Sword?  Soto. 
A Gun, a Gun sweet Master.  Cla. 
The devil o' bullet has been here: thou art well, man.  Soto. 
No sure, I am killed.  Cla. 
Let me see thy thighs, and belly,  
As whole as a Fish for any thing I see yet:  
Thou bleedest nowhere.  Soto. 
I think I do not bleed Sir,  
But yet I am afraid I am slain.  Cla. 
Stand up Fool,  
Thou hast as much hurt as my nail: who shot thee,  
A Pottle, or a Pint?  Soto. 
signior Silvio shot me  
In these clothes, taking me for you, and seeing  
The Ladder in my hand here, which I stole from ye,  
Thinking to have gone to the Lady myself, & have spoke for ye  Cla. 
If he had hit ye home, he had served ye right sirrah,  
You saucy rogue, how poor my intent shows to me,  
How naked now, and foolish?  Soto. 
Are ye sure he has not hit me,  
It gave a monstruous bounce?  Cla. 
You risse of your right side,  
And said your prayers too, you had been paid else:  
But what needest thou a Bullet when thy fear kills thee?  
Sirrah, keep your own counsel for all this, you'll be hanged else,  
If it be known.  Soto. 
If it be by my means let me;  
I am glad I am not killed, and far more gladder  
My gentlemanlike humours out: I feel 'tis dangerous,  
And to be a gentleman, is to be killed twice a week.  Cla. 
Keep yourself close i'th' Country for a while sirrah.  
There's Money, walk to your friends.  Soto. 
They have no pistols,  
Nor are no Gentlemen, that's my comfort. Exit.  Cla. 
I will retire too, and live private; for this Silvio  
Inflamed with nobleness will be my death else;  
And if I can forget this love that loads me,  
At least the danger: and now I think on't better,  
I have some conclusions else invites me to it. Exit.    

Actus Secundus.  

Scaena Prima.  Enter Rodope, and Silvio at several doors. Rod. 
NEphew.  Sil. 
My dear Ant.  Rod. 
Would you go by thus slily  
And never see me, not once send in to me  
Your loving Niece? she that above all those  
I call my Kindred honoured you, and placed you  
Nearest my heart?  Sil. 
I thank you worthy x,  
But such at this time are my occasions—  Rod. 
You shall not go yet, by my faith you shall not,  
I will not be denied: why look ye sad Nephew?  Sil. 
I am seldom other: O, this blood sits heavy:  
As I walked this way late last night,  
In meditation of some things concerned me—  Rod. 
What Nephew?  Sil. 
Why methought I heard a Piece, Lady,  
A piece shot off, much about this place too,  
But could not judge the cause, nor what it boded,  
Under the Castle wall.  Rod. 
We heard it too,  
And the Watch pursued it presently, but found nothing,  
Not any tract.  Sil. 
I am right glad to hear it:  
The Ruffians surely, that command the night  
Have found him, stripped him: and into the River  
Conveyed the body.  Rod. 
You look still sadder, Nephew,  
Is any thing within these walls to comfort ye?  
Speak, and be master of it.  Sil. 
Ye are a right Courtier,  
A great Professor, but a poor performer.  Rod. 
Do you doubt my faith: you never found me that way  
I dare well speak it boldly, but a true friend.  Sil. 
Continue then.  Rod. 
Try me, and see who falters.  Sil. 
I will, and presently: 'tis in your power  
To make me the most bound man to your courtesy.  Rod. 
Let me know how, and if I fail—  Sil. 
'Tis thus then,  
Get me access to the Lady Belvidere  
But for a minute, but to see her: your Husband now  
Is safe at Court, I left him full employed there.  Rod. 
You have asked the thing without my power to grant ye,  
The Law lies on the danger: if I loved ye not  
I would bid ye go, and there be found, and die for't.  Sil. 
I knew your love, and where there showed a danger  
How far you durst step for me: give me a true friend,  
That where occasion is to do a benefit  
Aims at the end, and not the rubs before it;  
I was a fool to ask ye this, a more fool  
To think a woman had so much noble nature  
To entertain a secret of this burden;  
Ye had best to tell the Duchess I persuaded ye,  
That's a fine course, and one will win ye credit;  
Forget the name of x, blot my blood out,  
And so you raise yourself, let me grow shorter.  
A woman friend? he that believes that weakness  
Steers in a stormy night without a Compass.  Rod. 
What is't I durst not do might not impeach ye?  Sil. 
Why this ye dare not do, ye dare not think of.  Rod. 
'Tis a main hazard.  Sil. 
If it were not so  
I would not come to you to seek a favour.  Rod. 
You will lose yourself.  Sil. 
The loss ends with myself then.  Rod. 
You will but see her?  Sil. 
Only look upon her.  Rod. 
Not stay?  Sil. 
Prescribe your time.  Rod. 
Not traffic with her  
In any close dishonourable actions?  Sil. 
Stand you yourself by.  Rod. 
I will venture for ye,  
Because ye shall be sure I am a touched friend,  
I'll bring her to ye: come walk, you know the Garden,  
And take this key to open the little Postern,  
There stand no guards.  Sil. 
I shall soon find it x. Exeunt.   

Scaena Secunda.  Enter two Soldiers. 1 Sol. 
Is the Captain come home?  2 Sol. 
No, who commands the Guard tonight?  1 Sol. 
I think Petruchio.  2 Sol. 
What's the Word?  1 Sol. 
None knows yet.  2 Sol. 
I would this Lady were married out o'th' way once,  
Or out of our custodies; I wish they would take in more companies,  
For I am sure we feel her in our duties shrewdly.  1 Sol. 
'Tis not her fault I warrant ye, she is ready for't,  
And that's the plague, when they grow ripe for marriage  
They must be slipped like Hawks.  2 Sol. 
Give me a mean wench,  
No State doubt lies on her, she is always ready.  1 Sol. 
Come to the Guard, 'tis late, and sure the Captain  
Can not be long away.  2 Sol. 
I have watched these three nights,  
Tomorrow they may keep me tame for nothing. Exeunt.   

Scaena Tertia.  Enter Silvio, Belvidere, and Rodope with a light. Sil. 
This is the place I think; what Light is that there?  
The Lady and my x?  Bel. 
Is this the Garden?  Rod. 
Yes Madam.  Sil. 
O my blessed Mistress,  
Saint of my soul.  Bel. 
Speak softly: take me to ye,  
O Silvio I am thine, thine ever Silvio.  Rod. 
Is this your promise Sir? Lady your honour?  
I am undone if this be seen, disgraced,  
Fallen under all discredit.  Bel. 
Do you love still?  
dear, do you keep your old faith?  Sil. 
Ever Lady;  
And when that fails me, all that's good forsake me.  Rod. 
Do not you shame? Madam, I must not suffer this,  
I will not suffer it; men call you virtuous,  
What do you mean to lose yourself thus? Silvio  
I charge thee get away, charge you retire ye,  
I'll call the watch else.  Sil. 
Call all the world to see us,  
We live in one another's happiness,  
And so will die.  Bel. 
Here will I hang for ever.  Rod. 
As ye respect me, as hereafter Madam  
You would enjoy his love— nothing prevail with ye?  
I'll try my strength then; get thee gone thou villain,  
Thou Promise-breaker.  Sil. 
I am tide, I cannot.  Rod. 
I'll ring the Bell then.  Sil. 
Ring it to death, I am fixed here.  Enter Bartello, two Soldiers with lights. Bart. 
I saw a light over the Garden walk,  
Hard by the Lady's Chamber, here's some knavery  
As I live, I saw it twice.  Rod. 
The Guard, the Guard there;  
I must not suffer this, it is too mischievous.  Bart. 
Light up the torch, I feared this, ha? young Silvio?  
How got he in?  1. Sold. 
The Devil brought him in sure  
He came not by us.  Bart. 
My wife between 'em bustling?  
Guard, pull him off.  Rod. 
Now, now, ye feel the misery.  Bart. 
You, Madam, at an hour so far undecent?  
Death, O my soul! this is a foul fault in ye,  
Your mother's care abused too, light's to her Chamber,  
I am sorry to see this.  Bell. 
Farewell my Sylvio,  
And let no danger sink thee.  Sil. 
Nor death Lady. Exit. Bell. Rod.  Bart. 
Are ye so hot? I shall prepare ye Physic  
Will purge ye finely, neatly; you are too fiery,  
Think of your prayers, Sir, and you have not forgot 'em;  
Can ye fly i'th' air, or creep ye in at keyholes?  
I have a 'gin will catch ye though you conjured:  
Take him to Guard tonight, to strong and sure Guard;  
I'll back toth' Duchess presently: no less sport serve ye,  
Than the Heir to a Dukedom? play at push-pin there Sir?  
It was well aimed, but plague upon't, you shot short,  
And that will lose your game.  Sil. 
I know the loss then. Exeunt.   

Scaena Quarta.  Enter Claudio (like a Merchant.) Cla. 
Now, in this habit may I safely see  
How my incensed friend carries my murder,  
Who little I imagined had been wrought  
To such a height of rage; and much I grieve now  
Mine own blind passion had so mastered me,  
I could not see his love, for sure he loves her,  
And on a nobler ground than I pretended.  Enter Penurio. 
It must be so, it is so; what Penurio,  
My shotten friend, what wind blew you?  Pen. 
Faith 'tis true,  
Any strong wind will blow me like a feather,  
I am all Air, nothing of earth within me,  
Nor have not had this month, but that good Dinner  
Your Worship gave me yesterday, that stays by me,  
And gives me ballast, else the Sun would draw me.  Cla. 
But does my Mistress speak still of me?  Pen. 
Yes Sir,  
And in her sleep, that makes my Master mad too,  
And turn and fart for anger.  Cla. 
Art sure she saw me?  Pen. 
She saw ye at a window.  Cla. 
'Tis most true,  
In such a place I saw a Gentlewoman,  
A young, sweet handsome woman.  Pen. 
That's she, that's she Sir.  Cla. 
And well she viewed me, I viewed her.  Pen. 
Still she Sir.  Cla. 
At last she blushed, and then looked off.  Pen. 
That blush Sir,  
If you can read it truly—  Cla. 
But didst thou tell her,  
Or didst thou fool me, thou knew'st such a one?  Pen. 
I told her, and I told her such a sweet tale—  Cla. 
But did she hear thee?  Pen. 
With a thousand ears Sir,  
And swallowed what I said as greedily,  
As great-bellied women do Cherries, stones and all Sir.  Cla. 
Methinks she should not love thy Master?  Pen. 
Hang him Pilchard,  
There's nothing loves him: his own Cat cannot endure him,  
She had better lie with a Bear, for he is so hairy,  
That a tame warren of flies frisk round about him.  Cla. 
And wilt thou work still?  Pen. 
Like a Miner for ye.  Cla. 
And get access.  Pen. 
Or conjure you together,  
'Tis her desire to meet: she is poisoned with him,  
And till she take a sweet fresh air, that's you Sir.  Cla. 
There's money for thee: thou art a precious Varlet,  
Be fat, be fat, and blow thy Master backward.  Pen. 
Blow you my Mistress Sir, as flat as a flounder,  
Then blow her up again as Butchers blow their Veals;  
If she die upon the same  
Bury her, bury her in God's name.  Cla. 
Thou art a merry knave: by this hand I'll feed thee,  
Till thou crackest at both ends, if thou dar'st do this  
Thou shalt eat no fantastical Porridge,  
Nor lick the dish where oil was yesterday,  
Dust, and dead flies today; Capons, fat Capons—  Pen. 
O hearty sound.  Cla. 
crammed full of itching Oysters.  Pen. 
Will ye have the Duchess?  Cla. 
And Lobsters big as Gauntlets,  
Thou shalt despise base Beef.  Pen. 
I do despise it,  
And now methinks I feel a Tart come sliding.  Cla. 
Leaping into thy mouth: but first deal faithfully.  Pen. 
When will ye come?  Cla. 
Tomorrow.  Pen. 
I'll attend ye,  
For then my Master will be out in business.  Cla. 
What news abroad?  Pen. 
'Mas as I was coming to you,  
I heard that signior Silvio, a good Gentleman,  
Many a good meal I have eaten with him—  Cla. 
What of him?  Pen. 
Was this day to be Arraigned before the Duchess,  
But why I could not hear.  Cla. 
Silvio arraigned?  
Go, get ye gone, and think of me.  Pen. 
I fly Sir. Exit Pen.  Cla. 
Arraigned? for what? for my supposed death? no,  
That cannot be sure, there's no rumour of it,  
Be it what it will, I will be there and see it,  
And if my help will bring him off he has it. Exit.   

Scaena Quinta.  Enter duchess, Lords, Silvio prisoner, Belvidere, Bartello, Rodope, Clerke, Counsellors, Attendants. Du. 
Read the Edict last made,  
Keep silence there.  Clerk. If any man of what condition soever, and a subject, after the publishing of this Edict, shall without special Licence from the great Duchess, attempt or buy, offer, or make an attempt, to solicit the love of the Princess Belvidere, the person so offending shall forfeit his life. Counselor. 
The reason why my Royal Mistress here  
In her last Treaty with Siennas Duke,  
Promised her beauteous Daughter there in marriage,  
The Duke of Milan, rival in this fortune,  
Unnoble sought by practice to betray her;  
Which found, and crossed, the Citadel received her  
There to secure her Mother's word; the last cause  
So many Gentlemen of late enamoured  
On this most beauteous Princess, and not brooking  
One more than other, to deserve a favour,  
Blood has been spilled, many brave spirits lost,  
And more unless she had been kept close from their violence  
Had like to have followed: therefore for due prevention  
Of all such hazards and unnoble actions,  
This last Edict was published, which thou Silvio  
Like a false man, a bad man, and a Traitor  
Hast rent a pieces, and contemned; for which cause  
Thou standest a guilty man here now. Ent. Claudio.  Clerk. 
Speak Silvio,  
What canst thou say to avoid the hand of Justice?  Sil. 
Nothing, but I confess, submit, & lay my head to it.  Bel. 
Have ye no eyes my Lords, no understandings?  
The Gentleman will cast himself away,  
Cast himself wilfully: are you, or you guilty?  
No more is he, no more taint sticks upon him:  
I drew him thither, 'twas my way betrayed him,  
I got the entrance kept, I entertained him,  
I hid the danger from him, forced him to me,  
Poor gentle soul, he's in no part transgressing,  
I wrote unto him.  Sil. 
Do not wrong that honour,  
Cast not upon that pureness these aspersions,  
By Heaven it was my love, my violence,  
My life must answer it: I broke in to her,  
Tempted the Law, solicited unjustly.  Bel. 
As there is truth in Heaven I was the first cause,  
How could this man have come to me, left naked  
Without my counsel and provision?  
What hour could he find out to pass the Watches,  
But I must make it sure first? Reverend Judges,  
Be not abused, nor let an innocent life lie  
Upon your shaking Conscience; I did it,  
My love the main wheel that set him a going:  
His motion but compelled.  Sil. 
Can ye believe this,  
And know with what a modesty and whiteness  
Her life was ever ranked? Can you believe this  
And see me here before ye young, and wilful?  
Apt to what danger Love dares thrust me on,  
And where Law stops my way, apt to contemn it?  
If I were bashful, old, or dull, and sleepy  
In love's alarms, a woman might awake me,  
Direct, and clew me out the way to happiness:  
But I like fire, kindled with that bright beauty,  
Catch hold of all occasions, and run through 'em.  Bel. 
I charge ye as your honest souls will answer it.  Sil. 
I charge ye, as you are the friends to virtue,  
That has no pattern living but this Lady.  Bel. 
Let not his blood—  Sil. 
Let not her wilfulness—  
For then you act a scene Hell will rejoice at.  Bel. 
He is clear.  Sil. 
She is as white in this as infants.  Cla. 
The god of Love protect your cause, and help ye,  
Two nobler pieces of affection  
These eyes ne'er looked on, if such goodness perish,  
Let never true hearts meet again, but break. Exit.  1 Lord. 
A strange example of strong love, a rare one.  2 Lord. 
Madam, we know not what to say to think on.  Duch. 
I must confess it strikes me tender too,  
Searches my Mother's heart: you found 'em there?  Bar. 
Yes certain Madam.  Duch. 
And so linked together?  Bar. 
As they had been one piece of Alabaster.  Duch. 
Nothing dishonourable?  Sil. 
So let my soul have happiness,  
As that thought yet durst never seek this bosom.  Duch. 
What shall I do? 'has broke my law, abused me,  
Fain would I know the truth, either confess it,  
And let me understand the main offender,  
Or both shall feel the torture.  Sil. 
Are ye a Mother?  
The Mother of so sweet a Rose as this is?  
So pure a Flower? and dare ye lose that nature?  
Dare ye take to yourself so great a wickedness,  
(O holy Heaven) of thinking what may ruin  
This goodly building? this temple where the gods dwell?  
Give me a thousand tortures, I deserve 'em,  
And show me death in all the shapes imagined.  Bel. 
No death but I will answer it, meet it, seek it;  
No torture but I'll laugh upon't, and kiss it.  1 Lord. 
This is no way.  2 Lord. 
They say no more for certain  
Than their strong hearts will suffer.  Duch. 
I have bethought me;  
No Lords, although I have a Child offending,  
Nature dares not forget she is a Child still;  
Till now I never looked on love imperious:  
I have bethought me of a way to break ye,  
To separate, though not your loves your bodies:  
Silvio attend, I'll be your Judge myself now,  
The sentence of your death (because my Daughter  
Will bear an equal part in your afflictions)  
I take away and pardon: this remains then  
An easy, and a gentle punishment,  
And this shall be fulfilled: because unnobly  
You have sought the love, and marriage of a Princess,  
The absolute and sole Heir of this Dukedom,  
By that means as we must imagine strongly,  
To plant yourself into this Rule hereafter,  
We here pronounce ye a man banished from us.  Sil. 
For ever banished Lady?  Duch. 
Yet more mercy,  
But for a year: and then again in this place  
To make your full appearance: yet more pity,  
If in that time you can absolve a question,  
Writ down within this scroll, absolve it rightly,  
This Lady is your wife, and shall live with ye;  
If not, you lose your head.  Sil. 
I take this honour,  
And humbly kiss those Royal hands.  Duch. 
Receive it: Bartello, to your old guard take the Princess,  
And so the Court break up.  Sil. 
Farewell to all,  
And to that spotless heart my endless service. Exit.  1. Lord. 
What will this prove?  2. Lord. 
I'll tell you a year hence, Sir. Exeunt.   

Scaena Sexta  Enter Penurio, Isabella, Claudio. Pen. 
Are you pleased now? have I not wrought this wonder  
Non eben fatto Signieur.  Cla. 
Rarely Penurio.  Pen. 
Close, close then, and work wax.  Cla. 
I am studying for thee  
A dinner, that shall victual thee for ten year.  Pen. 
Do you hear Mistress?  
You know what a dundier whelp my Master is,  
I need not preach to ye, how unfit and wanting  
To give a woman satisfaction:  
How he stinks, and snores, a Bull's a better bedfellow;  
And for his love never let that deceive ye.  Isab. 
Nay sure he loves me not.  Pen. 
If he could coin ye,  
Or turn ye into mettle much might be then;  
He loves not any thing but what is traffic:  
I have heard him swear he would sell ye to the grand Signior.  Isab. 
The Turk.  Pen. 
The very Turk, and how they would use ye.  Isab. 
I'll fit him for't: the Turk?  Pen. 
I know the price too:  
Now ye have time to pay him, pay him home Mistress;  
Pay him o'th' pate, clout him for all his courtesies;  
Here's one that dances in your eyes, young delicate  
To work this vengeance; if ye let it slip now,  
There is no pitying of ye, od's precious, Mistress,  
Were I his wife, I would so maul his Mazzard,  
'Tis charity, mere charity, pure charity,  
Are you the first? has it not been from Eves time,  
Women would have their safe revenges this way?  
And good, and gracious women, excellent women;  
Is't not a handsome Gentleman? a sweet Gentleman?  
View him from head to foot, a complete Gentleman;  
When can ye hope the like again? I leave ye,  
And my revenge too, with ye; I know my Office,  
I'll not be far off, be not long a fumbling,  
When danger shall appear, I'll give the 'larm. Exit.  Isab. 
You are welcome Sir, and would it were my fortune  
To afford a Gentleman of your fair seeming,  
A freer entertainment than this house has,  
You partly know Sir.—  Cla. 
Know, and pity Lady,  
Such sweetness in the bud, should be so blasted;  
Dare you make me your Servant?  Isab. 
Dare you make Sir,  
That service worthy of a woman's favour  
By constancy and goodness?  Cla. 
Here I swear to ye,  
By the unvalued love I bear this beauty,  
(And kiss the Book too) never to be recreant,  
To honour ye, to truly love, and serve ye,  
My youth to wait upon ye, what my wealth has.  Isab. 
O make me not so poor, to sell affection,  
Those bought love's Sir, wear faster than the moneys;  
A handsome Gentleman.  Cla. 
A most delicate sweet one,  
Let my truth Purchase then.  Isab. 
I should first try it,  
But you may happily.—  Cla. 
You shall not doubt me,  
I hope she loves me; when I prove false shame take me;  
Will ye believe a little?  Isab. 
I fear, too much, Sir.  Cla. 
And will ye love a little?  Isab. 
That should be your part.  Cla. 
Thus I begin then, thus and thus.  Isab. 
A good beginning,  
We have a Proverb says, makes a good ending.  Cla. 
Say ye so? 'tis well inferred.  Isab. 
Good Sir, your patience:  
methinks I have ventured now, like a weak Bark  
Upon a broken billow, that will swallow me,  
Upon a rough sea of suspicions,  
Stuck round with jealous rocks.  Pen. within. 
A hem, a hem there.  Isab. 
This is my man; my fears too soon have found me,  Enter Penurio. 
Now what's the news?  Pen. 
A pox of yonder old Rigell,  
The Captain, the old Captain.  Isab. 
What old Captain?  Pen. 
Captain courageous yonder of the Castle,  
Captain dondeigo, old Bartello.  Isab. 
Where is he?  Pen. 
He's coming in:  
'Twould vex the Devil, that such an old Potgun as this,  
That can make no sport, should hinder them that can do it.  Isab. 
I would not have him see the Gentleman  
For all the world, my credit were undone then.  Pen. 
Shall I fling a pisspot on's head as he comes in,  
And take him intoth' Kitchen, there to dry him.  Isab. 
That will not do; and he is so humorous too  
He will come in.  Cla. 
What is he?  Isab. 
One much troubles me.  Pen. 
And can do nothing, cannot eat.  Isab. 
Your sight now,  
Out of a drivelling dotage he bears to me,  
May make him tell my husband, and undo me.  Cla. 
What would ye have me do?  Isab. 
But for a while Sir,  
Step here behind this hanging, presently  
I'll answer him, and then.—  Cla. 
I will obey ye.  Enter Bartello. Bar. 
Where's my rich Jeweller? I have stones to set.  Pen. 
He is abroad, and sure Sir.  Bart. 
there's for your service:  
where's the fair Lady? all alone sweet beauty?  Isab. 
She's never much alone Sir, that's acquainted  
With such companions as good honest thoughts are.  Bar. 
I'll sit down by thee, and I'll kiss thy hand too,  
And in thine ear swear by my life I love thee.  Isab. 
Ye are a merry Captain.  Bar. 
And a mad one, Lady;  
By th'mass thou hast goodly eyes, excellent eyes, wench,  
Ye twinkling rogue, look what thy Captain brings thee,  
Thou must needs love me, love me heartily,  
Hug me, and love me, hug me close.  Isab. 
Fie Captain.  Bar. 
Nay, I have strength, and I can strain ye sirrah,  
And vault into my seat as nimbly, little one.  
As any of your smooth chinned boys in Florence,  
I must needs commit a little folly with ye,  
I'll not be long, a bridling case, and away wench;  
The hobnail thy husband's as fitly out o'th' way now.  Isab. 
Do you think he keeps a bawdy house?  Bar. 
That's all one.  Isab. 
Or did you ever see that lightness in my carriage,  
That you might promise to yourself—  Bar. 
Away fool,  
A good turn's a good turn; I am an honest fellow.  Isab. 
You have a handsome wife, a virtuous Gentlewoman.  Bar. 
They are not for this time o'th' year.  Isab. 
A Lady,  
That ever bore that great respect to you,  
That noble constancy.  Bar. 
That's more than I know.  Enter Maid, and Penurio. Maid. 
O Mistress, ye are undone, my Master's coming.  Pen. 
Coming hard by here.  Bar. 
Plague Consume the Rascal,  
Shall I make petty-patties of him?  Isab. 
Now what love Sir?  
Fear of your coming made him jealous first;  
Your finding here, will make him mad and desperate,  
And what in that wild mood he will execute—  Bar. 
I can think of nothing, I have no wit left me,  
Certain my heads a mustard-pot.  Isab. 
I have thought Sir.  
And if you'll please to put in execution  
What I conceive—  Bar. 
I'll do it, tell it quickly.  Isab. 
Draw your Sword quickly, and go down enraged,  
As if you had pursued some foe up hither,  
And grumble to yourself extremely, terribly,  
But not a word to him, and so pass by him.  Bar. 
I'll do it perfectly.  Enter Lopes. Isab. 
Stand you still good Sir.  Bar. 
Rascal, slave, villain, take a house so poorly,  
After thou hast wronged a Gentleman, a Soldier,  
Base Poultroon boy, you will forsake your nest sirrah.  Lop. 
The matter, good sweet Captain?  Bart. 
Runaway rogue,  
And take a house to cover thy base cowardice,  
I'll whip ye, I'll so scourge ye. Exit.  Lop. 
Mercy upon me,  
What's all this matter wife?  Isab. 
Did you meet the mad man?  Lop. 
I never saw the Captain so provoked yet.  Isab. 
O he's a Devil sure, a most bloody devil,  
He followed a young Gentleman, his sword drawn,  
With such a fury, how I shake to think on't,  
And foined, and flashed at him, and swore he'd kill him,  
Drove him up hither, followed him still bloodily,  
And if I had not hid him, sure had slain him;  
A merciless old man.  Cla. 
Most virtuous Lady,  
Even as the giver of my life, I thank ye.  Lop. 
This fellow must not stay here, he is too handsome;  
He is gone Sir, and you may pass now with all security,  
I'll be your guide myself, and such a way  
I'll lead ye, none shall cross, nor none shall know ye.  
The door's left open Sirrah, I'll starve you for this trick,  
I'll make thee fast o' Sundays; and for you Lady,  
I'll have your lodgings farther off, and closer,  
I'll have no street lights to you; will you go Sir?  Cla. 
I thank ye Sir; the Devil take this fortune;  
And once more all my service to your goodness. Exit.  Pen. 
Now could I eat my very arms for madness,  
Crossed in the nick o'th' matter? vengeance take it,  
And that old Cavalier that spoiled our Cockfight;  
I'll lay the next plot surer.  Isab. 
I am glad and sorry;  
Glad, that I got so fairly off suspicion;  
Sorry I lost my new loved friend.  Pen. 
Not lost Mistress;  
I'll conjure once again to raise that spirit;  
In, and look soberly upon the matter,  
we'll ring him one peal more, and if that fall,  
The Devil take the clappers, bells, and all. Exeunt    

Actus Tertius.  

Scaena Prima.  Enter duchess, Lords, and Rodope, Duch. 
NOw, Rhodope, How do you find my daughter?  Rho. 
Madam, I find her now what you would have her,  
What the State wishes her; I urged her fault to her,  
Opened her eyes, and made her see the mischief  
She was running with a headlong will into,  
Made her stait at her folly, shake and tremble,  
At the mere memory of such an ignorance,  
She now contemns his love, hates his remembrance,  
Cannot endure to hear the name of Silvio;  
His person spits at.  Duch. 
I am glad to hear this.  Rho. 
And humbly now to your will, your care, Madam,  
Bends her affections, bows her best obedience;  
Sienna's Duke, with new eyes now she looks on,  
And with a Princely love, sit for his person,  
Returns that happiness and joy he looked for;  
The general good of both the neighbour Dukedoms,  
Not any private end, or rash affection  
She aims at now: hearing the Duke arrived too,  
(To whom she owes all honour, and all service,)  
She charged me kneel thus at your grace's feet,  
And not to rise without a general pardon.  Duke h. 
She has it, and my love again, my old love,  
And with more tenderness I meet this penitence,  
Then if she ne'er had started from her honour;  
I thank ye Rhodope, am bound to thank ye,  
And daily to remember this great service,  
This honest faithful service; go in peace,  
And by this Ring, delivered to Bartello,  
Let her enjoy our favour, and her liberty,  
And presently to this place, with all honour,  
See her conducted.  Rho. 
Your Grace has made me happy. Exit.  Enter 1 Lord. 1 Lord. 
Sienna's noble Duke, craves his admittance.  Enter Duke of Syenna with Attendants. Duch. 
Go, wait upon his Grace; fair Sir, you are welcome,  
Welcome to her ever admired your virtues:  
And now, methinks, my Court looks true nobly;  
You have taken too much pains, Sir.  Syen. 
Royal Lady,  
To wait upon your Grace is but my service.  Duch. 
Keep that Sir, for the Saint ye have vowed it to.  Syen. 
I keep a life for her: Since your Grace pleases  
To jump so happily into the matter,  
I come indeed to claim your royal promise,  
The beauteous Belvidere in marriage,  
I come to tender her my youth, my fortune,  
My everlasting love.  Enter Belvidere, Bartello, Rhodope, attendance. Duch. 
You are like to win Sir:  
All is forgot, forgiven too; no sadness  
My good Child, you have the same heart still here,  
The Duke of Syenna, Child, pray use him nobly.  Sy. 
An Angel beauty.  Bel. 
Your Grace is fairly welcome,  
And what in modesty a blushing maid may  
Wish to a Gentleman of your great goodness;  
But wishes are too poor a pay for Princes.  Sy. 
You have made me richer than all States and Titles,  
One kiss of this white hand's above all honours,  
My faith dear Lady, and my fruitful service,  
My duteous zeal—  Bel. 
Your Grace is a great Master,  
And speak too powerfully to be resisted:  
Once more you are welcome Sir, to me you are welcome,  
To her that honours ye; I could say more Sir,  
But in another's tongue 'twere better spoken,  Sy. 
As wise as fair, you have made your Servant happy;  
I never saw so rich a Mine of sweetness.  Duch. 
Will your Grace please, after your painful journey  
To take some rest? Are the Duke's Lodgings ready?  Lord. 
All Madam.  Duch. 
Then wait upon his Grace, all, and tomorrow Sir  
We'll show ye in what high esteem we hold ye,  
Till then a fair repose.  Sy. 
My fairest service Exit Duke, etc.  Duch. 
You have so honoured me, my dearest Daughter,  
So truly pleased me in this entertainment,  
I mean your loving carriage to Syenna,  
That both for ever I forget all trespasses,  
And to secure you next of my full favour,  
Ask what you will within my power to grant ye,  
Ask freely: and if I forget my promise—  
Ask confidently.  Bel. 
You are too royal to me,  
To me that have so foolishly transgressed you,  
So like a Girl, so far forgot my virtue,  
Which now appears as base and ugly to me,  
As did his Dream, that thought he was in Paradise,  
Awaked and saw the Devil; how was I wandered?  
With what eyes could I look upon that poor, that course thing,  
That wretched thing called Silvio? that (now) despised thing?  
And lose an object of that graceful sweetness,  
That godlike presence as Syenna is?  
Darkness, and cheerful day had not such difference:  
But I must ever bless your care, your wisdom,  
That led me from this labyrinth of folly,  
How had I sunk else? what example given?  Duch. 
Prithee no more, and as thou art my best one,  
Ask something that may equal such a goodness.  Bel. 
Why did ye let him go so slightly from ye,  
More like a man in triumph, then condemned?  
Why did ye make his penance but a question,  
A riddle, every idle wit unlocks.  Duch. 
'Tis not so,  
Nor do not fear it so: he will not find it,  
I have given that (unless myself discover it)  
Will cost his head.  Bel. 
'Tis subject to construction?  Duch. 
That it is too.  Bel. 
It may be then absolved,  
And then are we both scorned and laughed at, Madam;  
Beside the promise you have tied upon it,  
Which you must never keep.  Duch. 
I never meant it.  Bel. 
For heaven sake let me know it, 'tis my Suit to ye,  
The Boon you would have me ask; let me but see it,  
That if there be a way to make't so strong,  
No wit nor powerful reason can run through it,  
For my disgrace, I may beg of heaven to grant it.  Duch. 
Fear not, it has been put to sharper judgements  
Then ere he shall arrive at: my dear Father,  
That was as fiery in his understanding,  
And ready in his wit as any living,  
Had it two years; and studied it, yet lost it:  
This night ye are my Bedfellow, there Daughter  
Into your bosom I'll commit this secret,  
And there we'll both take counsel.  Bel. 
I shall find  
Some trick I hope too strong yet for his mind. Exeunt.   

Scaena Secunda.  Enter Penurio. Pen. 
Methinks I am battened well of late, grown lusty,  
Fat, high, and kicking, thanks to the bounteous Rugio;  
And now, methinks I scorn these poor repasts,  
Cheese parings, and the stinking tongues of Pilchers;  
But why should I remember these? they are odious,  
They are odious in mine eyes; the full fat dish now,  
The bearing dish is that I reverence,  
The dish an able Servingman sweats under,  
And bends i'th' hams, as if the house hung on him,  
That dish is the dish: hang your bladder Banquets,  
Or half a dozen of Turnip, and two Mushrooms,  
These when they breed their best, hatch but two Belches;  
The state of a fat Turkey, the decorum  
He marches in with, all the train and circumstance;  
'Tis such a matter, such a glorious matter,  
And then his sauce, with Oranges and Onions,  
And he displayed in all parts, for such a dish now,  
And at my need I would betray my father,  
And for a roasted Conger, all my Country.  Enter Bartello. Bar. 
What my friend Lean-gut, how does thy beauteous Mistress?  
And where's your Master Sirrah? where's that hornpipe?  Pen. 
My Mistress Sir, does as a poor wronged Gentlewoman,  
Too much heaven knows oppressed with injuries,  
May do and live.  Bar. 
Is the old fool still jealous?  Pen. 
As old fools are, and will be still the same Sir.  Bar. 
He must have cause: he must have cause.  Pen. 
'Tis true Sir,  
And would he had with all my heart.  Bar. 
He shall have.  Pen. 
For then he had Salt to his Saffron Porridge.  Bar. 
Why do not I see thee sometime? why thou starved rascal?  
Why do not ye come to me, you precius bow-case?  
I keep good meat at home, good store:  Pen. 
Yes Sir,  
I will not fail ye all next week.  Bar. 
Thou art welcome,  
I have a secret I would fain impart to thee,  
But thou art so thin the wind will blow it from thee,  
Or men will read it through thee.  Pen. 
Wrapped up in beef Sir,  
In good gross beef, let all the world look on me,  
The English have that trick to keep intelligence.  Bar. 
A witty knave, first there's to tie your tongue up,  Pen. 
Dumb as a Dog Sir.  Bar. 
Next, hark in your ear. Sirrah.  Pen. 
Well, very well, excellent well: 'tis done Sir,  
Say no more to me.  Bar. 
Say and hold.  Pen. 
'Tis done Sir.  Bar. 
As thou lov'st buttered eggs, swear.  Pen. 
Let me kiss the Book first,  
But here's my hand, brave Captain.  Bar. 
Look ye hold, sirrah. Exit.  Pen. 
O the most precious vanity of this world  
When such dry Neats-tongues must be soaked and larded  
With young fat supple wenches? O the Devil,  
What can he do, he cannot suck an egg off  
But his back's loose i'th' hilts: go thy ways Captain,  
Well may thy Warlike name work Miracles,  
But if e'er thy foundered courser win match more,  
Or stand right but one train—  Enter three Gentlemen. 1. Gent. 
Now signior Shadow,  
What art thou thinking of, how to rob thy Master?  Pen. 
Of his good deeds? the Thief that undertakes that  
Must have a hook will pose all Hell to hammer:  
Have ye dined Gentlemen, or do you purpose?  2 Gent. 
Dined, two long hours ago.  Pen. 
Pray ye take me with ye.  3 Gent. 
To supper dost thou mean?  Pen. 
To any thing  
That has the smell of meat in't: tell me true, Gentlemen,  
Are not you three now going to be sinful,  
To jeopard a joint, or so? I have found your faces,  
And see whore written in your eyes.  1 Gent. 
A perilous Rascal,  
Thou art much upon the matter.  Pen. 
Have a care Gentlemen,  
'Tis a sore age, very sore age, lewd age,  
And women now are like old Knights adventures,  
Full of enchanted flames, and dangerous.  2 Gent, 
Where the most danger is, there's most honour.  Pen. 
I grant ye, honour most consists in sufferance,  
And by that rule you three should be most honourable.  3 Gent. 
A subtle Rogue: but canst thou tell Penurio  
Where we might light upon—  Pen. 
A learned Surgeon?  3 Gent. 
Pox take ye fool; I mean good wholesome wenches.  Pen. 
'Faith wholesome women will but spoil ye too,  
For you are so used to snaphances: But take my counsel,  
Take fat old women, fat, and five and fifty,  
The dog-days are come in.  2 Gent. 
Take fat old women?  Pen. 
The fatter and the older, still the better,  
You do not know the pleasure of an old Dame,  
A fat old Dame, you do not know the knack on't:  
They are like our Country groats, as cool as Christmas,  
And sure i'th' keels.  1 Gent. 
Hang him starved fool, he mocks us.  3. Gent. 
Penurio, thou know'st all the handsome wenches?  
What shall I give thee for a Merchant's wife now?  Pen. 
I take no money Gentlemen, that's base,  
I trade in meat, a Merchant's wife will cost ye  
A glorious Capon, a great shoulder of Mutton,  
And a Tart as big as a conjurer's circle.  3 Gent. 
That's cheap enough.  1 Gent. 
And what a haberdasher's?  Pen. 
Worse meat will serve for her: a great Goose pie,  
But you must send it out o'th' Country to me,  
It will not do else: with a piece of Bacon,  
And if you can a pot of Butter with it.  2 Gent. 
Now do I aim at horseflesh: what a parson's?  Pen. 
A tithe Pig has no fellow, if I fetch her,  
If she be Puritan, Plumb-porridge does it,  
And a fat loin of veal well sauced and roasted.  2 Gent. 
we'll meet one night, and thou shalt have all these,  
O' that condition we may have the wenches,  
A dainty rascal.  Pen. 
When your stomachs serve ye,  
(For mine is ever ready) I'll supply ye.  1 Gent. 
Farewell, and there's to fill thy paunch.  Pen. 
Brave Gentleman.  2 Gent. 
Hold sirrah, there.  Pen. 
Any young wench i'th' Town Sir.  3 Gent. 
It shall go round. Exit Gent.  Pen. 
Most honourable Gentlemen,  
All these are Courtiers, but they are mere Coxcombs,  
And only for a wench, their purses open,  
Nor have they so much judgement left to choose her;  
If e'er they call upon me I'll so fit 'em,  
I have a pack of wry-mouthed mackerel Ladies,  
Stink like a standing ditch, and those dear Damsels;  
But I forgot my business, I thank ye Mounsieurs,  
I have a thousand whimsies in my brains now. Exit.   

Scaena Tertia.  Enter (to a Banquet) Duchess, Syenna, Lords, Attendants. Duch. 
Your Grace shall now perceive how much we honour ye  
And in what dear regard we hold your friendship  
Will you sit Sir, and grace this homely Banquet?  Sy. 
Madam, to your poor friend you are too magnificent.  Duc. 
To the Duke's health, and all the joys I wish him,  
Let no man miss this cup: have we no Music?  Sy. 
Your noble favours still you heap upon me,  
But where's my virtuous Mistress, such a Feast,  
And not her sparkling beauty here to bless it?  
methinks it should not be, it shows not fully.  Duch. 
Young Ladies Sir, are long, and curious  
In putting on their trims, forget how day goes,  
And then 'tis their good morrow when they are ready:  
Go some and call her, and wait upon her hither,  
Tell her the Duke and I desire her company:  
I warrant ye, a hundred dressings now  
She has surveyed, this, and that fashion looked on,  
For Ruffs and Gowns; cast this away, these Jewels  
Suited to these and these knots: o' my life Sir,  
She fears your curious eye will soon discover else:  
Why stand ye still, why gape ye on one another?  
Did I not bid ye go and tell my Daughter?  
Are ye nailed here? nor stir? nor speak? who am I,  
And who are you?  1 Lord. 
Pardon me, gracious Lady,  
The fear to tell you that you would not hear of  
Makes us all dumb, the Princess is gone, Madam.  Duch. 
Gone? whither gone? some wiser fellow answer me.  2 Lord. 
We sought the Court all over, and believe Lady,  
No news of where she is, nor how conveyed hence.  Duch. 
It cannot be, it must not be.  1 Lord. 
'Tis true Madam,  
No room in all the Court but we searched through it,  
Her women found her want first, and they cried to us.  Duch. 
Gone? stolen away? I am abused, dishonoured.  Sy. 
'Tis I that am abused, 'tis I dishonoured,  
Is this your welcome, this your favour to me?  
To foist a trick upon me, this trick too,  
To cheat me of my love? Am I not worthy?  
Or since I was your Guest, am I grown odious?  Duch. 
Your Grace mistakes me, as I have a life, Sir.  Sy. 
And I another, I will never bear this,  
Never endure this dor.  Duch. 
But hear me patiently.  Sy. 
Give me my love.  Duch. 
As soon as care can find her,  
And all care shall be used.  Sy. 
And all my care too,  
To be revenged; I smell the trick, 'tis too rank,  
Fie, how it smells o'th' Mother.  Duch. 
You wrong me, Duke.  Sy. 
For this disgrace ten thousand Florentines  
Shall pay their dearest bloods, and dying curse ye,  
And so I turn away, your mortal enemy. Exit.  Duc. 
Since ye are so high and hot Sir, ye have half armed us,  
Be careful of the Town, of all the Castles,  
And see supplies of Soldiers everywhere,  
And Musters for the Field, when he invites us,  
For he shall know 'tis not high words can fright us.  
My Daughter gone? has she so finely cozened me?  
This is for Silvio's sake sure, O cunning false one;  
Publish a Proclamation through the Dukedom.  
That whosoever can bring toth' Court young Silvio,  
Alive or dead, beside our thanks and favour,  
Shall have two thousand Ducats for his labour;  
See it dispatched, and sent in haste: O base one. Exeunt.   

Scaena Quarta.  Enter Isabella, and Penurio with a Light. Isab. 
Was't thou with Rugio?  Pen. 
Yes marry was I closely.  Isab. 
And does he still remember his poor Mistress?  
does he desire to see me?  Pen. 
Yes, and presently:  
Puts off all business else, lives in that memory,  
And will be here according to directions.  Isab. 
But where's thy Master?  Pen. 
Where a coxcomb should be,  
Waiting at Court with his Jewels,  
Safe for this night I warrant ye.  Isab. 
I am bound to thee.  Pen. 
I would ye were; as close as I could tie ye,  Isab. 
Thou art my best, my truest friend.  Pen. 
I labour,  
I moil and toil for ye: I am your hackney.  Isab. 
If ever I be able—  Pen. 
Steal the great Cheese Mistress,  
Was sent him out o'th' Country.  Isab. 
Any thing.  Pen. 
That's meat, 'tis lawful Mistress: where's the Castle Custard  
He got at Court?  Isab. 
He has locked it in's study.  Pen. 
Get a warrant to search for counterfeit gold.  Isab. 
Give me thy Candle,  
I'll find a time to be thy careful Cater.  Pen. 
And many a time I'll find to be his Cook,  
And dress his calf's head to the sweetest sauce Mistress.  Isab. 
To bed Penurio, go, the rest is my charge,  
I'll keep the Watch out.  Pen. 
Now if you spare him— Exit.  Isab. 
Peace fool,  
I hope my Rugio will not fail, 'twould vex me:  
Now to my string; so, sure he cannot miss now,  
And this end to my finger: I'll lie down,  
For on a sudden I am wondrous heavy,  
'Tis very late too; if he come, and find this,  
And pull it, though it be with easy motion  
I shall soon waken, and as soon be with him.  Enter Lopez. Lop. 
Thou secret friend, how am I bound to love thee,  
And how to hug thee for thy private service?  
Thou art the Star all my suspicions sail by,  
The fixed point my wronged honour turns to,  
By thee I shall know all, find all the subtleties  
Of devilish women, that torment me daily:  
Thou art my Conjurer, my Spell, my Spirit,  
All's hushed and still, no sound of any stirring,  
No tread of living thing: the Light is in still,  
And there's my wife, how prettily the fool lies,  
How sweet, and handsomely, and in her clothes too,  
Waiting for me upon my life; her fondness  
Would not admit her rest till I came to her:  
O careful fool, why am I angry with thee?  
Why do I think thou hat'st thy loving Husband?  
I am an Ass, an over-doting Coxcomb,  
And this sweet soul the mirror of perfection:  
How admirable fair and delicate,  
And how it stirs me, I'll sing thy sweets a Requiem,  
But will not waken thee.  

Song.  
O Fair sweet face, O eyes celestial bright,  
Twin-stars in Heaven that now adorn the night;  
O fruitful lips, where Cherries ever grow,  
And Damask cheeks, where all sweet beauty's blow;  
O thou from head to foot divinely fair,  
Cupid's most cunning Nets made of that hair,  
And as he weaves himself for curious eyes,  
O me, O me, I am caught myself, he cries:  
Sweet rest about this sweets and golden sleep,  
Soft peaceful thoughts your hourly rely watches keep,  
Whilst I in wonder sing this sacrifice,  
To beauty sacred, and those angel-eyes.   
Now will I steal a kiss, a dear kiss from her,  
And suck the Rosy breath of this bright beauty;  
What a Devil is this? tied to her finger too?  
A string, a damned string to give intelligence  
O my loved key, how truly hast thou served me;  
I'll follow this: soft, soft, toth' door it goes,  
And through toth' other side; a damned string 'tis,  
I am abused, topped, Cuckolded, fooled, jaded,  
Ridden to death, to madness; stay, this helps not:  
Stay, stay, and now invention help me,  
I'll sit down by her, take this from her easily,  
And thus upon mine own: Dog, I shall catch ye,  
With all your cunning Sir: I shall light on ye,  
I felt it pull sure: yes, but wondrous softly,  
'Tis there again, and harder now, have at ye:  
Now and thou scapest, the Devils thy ghostly father. Exit.  Isab. 
Sure 'twas my husband's voice: The string is gone to,  
He has found the trick on't: I am undone, betrayed,  
And if he meet my friend he perishes,  
What fortune follows me, what spiteful fortune?  
Hoa, Jaquenet.  Enter Jaquenet. Jaq. 
Here Mistress, do you call me?  Isab. 
Didst thou hear no noise?  Jaq. 
I hear my Master mad yonder,  
And swears, and chafes—  Isab. 
Dar'st thou do one thing for me?  
One thing concerns mine honour, all is lost else?  Jaq. 
Name what you will.  Isab. 
It can bring but a beating,  
Which I will recompense so largely—  Jaq. 
Name it.  Isab. 
Sit here, as if thou wert asleep.  Jaq. 
Is that all?  Isab. 
When he comes in, whate'er he do unto thee  
(The worst will be but beating) speak not a word,  
Not one word as thou lovest me.  Jaq. 
I'll run through it.  Isab. 
I'll carry away the Candle. Exit.  Jaq. 
And I the blows Mistress.  Enter Lopez. Lop. 
Have you put your light out? I shall stumble to ye,  
You whore, you cunning whore, I shall catch your rogue to,  
Has light legs else: I had so Ferret-clawed him:  
O have I found ye? do ye play at dogsleep still whore?  
Do you think that can protect ye? yes, I will kill thee,  
But first I'll bring thy friends to view thy villainies,  
Thy whorish villainies: and first I'll beat thee,  
Beat thee to pin-dust, thou salt whore, thou varlet,  
Scratch out thine eyes; I'll spoil your tempting visage;  
Are ye so patient? I'll put my nails in deeper,  
Is it good whoring? whoring ye base rascal?  
Is it good tempting men with strings to ride ye?  
So, I'll fetch your kindred, and your friends, whore,  
And such a Justice I will act upon thee. Exit.  Enter Isabella. Isab. 
What is he gone?  Jaq. 
The Devil go with him Mistress,  
Has harrowed me, ploughed land was ne'er so harrowed:  
I had the most ado to save mine eyes.  Isah. 
Has paid thee,  
But I'll heal all again with good gold Jaquenet;  
Has damned nails.  Jaq. 
They are tenpenny nails I think Mistress:  
I'll undertake he shall strike 'em through an inch board.  Isab. 
Go up, and wash thyself: take my Pomatum,  
And now let me alone to end the Tragedy.  Joq. 
You had best beware.  Isab. 
I shall deal stoutly with him,  
Reach me my book, and see the door made fast wench,  
And so good night: now to the matter politic.  Lopez knocks within. Lop. within 
You shall see what she is, what a sweet jewel.  Isab. 
Who's there, what madman knocks? is this an hour  
And in mine husband's absence?  Lop. within. 
Will ye open?  
You know my voice ye whore, I am that husband:  
Do you mark her subtlety? but I have paid her,  
I have so firked her face: here's the blood Gentlemen,  
Ecce signum: I have spoiled her Goatish beauty,  
Observe her how she looks now, how she is painted,  
O 'tis the most wickedest whore, and the most treacherous-  Enter Lopez, Bartello, Gent. and two Gentlewomen. Gent. 
Here walks my x full of meditation,  
Armed with religious thoughts.  Bar. 
Is this the monster?  1 Gentlew. 
Is this the subject of that rage you talked of,  
That naughty woman you had pulled a pieces?  Bar. 
Here's no such thing.  1. Gentlew. 
How have ye wronged this beauty?  
Are not you mad my friend? what time o'th' Moon is't?  
Have not you Maggots in your brains?  Lop. 
'Tis she sure.  Gent. 
Where's the scratched face ye spoke of, the torne garments,  
And all the hair plucked off her head?  Bar. 
Believe me,  
'Twere better far you had lost your pair of pebbles,  
Than she the least adornment of that sweetness.  Lop. 
Is not this blood?  1 Gentlew. 
This is a monstrous folly,  
A base abuse.  Isab. 
Thus he does ever use me,  
And sticks me up a wonder, not a woman,  
Nothing I do but subject to suspicion;  
Nothing I can do able to content him.  Bar. 
Lopez, you must not use this.  2 Gentlew. 
'Twere not amiss Sir,  
To give ye sauce to your meat, and suddenly.  1 Gentlew. 
You that dare wrong a woman of her goodness,  
Thou have a wife, thou have a Bear tied to thee,  
To scratch thy jealous itch, were all o' my mind,  
I mean all women, we would soon disburden ye  
Of that that breeds these fits, these dog-flaws in ye,  
A sow-gelder should trim ye.  Bar. 
A rare cure Lady,  
And one as fit for him as a Thief for a halter,  
You see this youth: will you not cry him quittance,  
Body 'me, I would pine, but I would pepper him,  
I'll come anon, he, hang him, poor pompillion:  
How like a wench bepissed he looks, I'll come Lady:  
Lopez, the Law must teach ye what a wife is,  
A good, a virtuous wife.  Isab. 
I'll ne'er live with him,  
I crave your loves all to make known my cause,  
That so a fair Divorce may pass between us,  
I am weary of my life: in danger hourly.  Bar. 
You see how rude you are, I will not miss ye,  
Unsufferable rude: I'll pay him soundly,  
You should be whipped in Bedlam: I'll reward him.  2 Gentlew. 
whip's too good.  Lop. 
I think I am alive still,  
And in my wits.  Bar. 
I'll put a trick upon him,  
And get his goods Confiscate: you shall have 'em;  
I will not fail at nine.  Lop. 
I think I am here too,  
And once I would have sworn I had taken her napping,  
I think my name is Lopez.  Gent. 
Fie for shame Sir,  
You see you have abused her, foully wronged her,  
Hung scandalous and coarse opinions on her,  
Which now you find but children of suspicion:  
Ask her forgiveness, show a penitence,  
She is my Kinswoman, and what she suffers  
Under so base and beastly jealousies,  
I will redress else, I'll seek satisfaction.  Bar. 
Why, every Boy i'th' Town will piss upon thee.  Lop. 
I am sorry for't.  1 Gentlew. 
Down o' your marrowbones.  Lop. 
Even sorry from my heart: forgive me sweet wife,  
Here I confess most freely I have wronged ye,  
As freely here I beg a pardon of ye,  
From this hour no debate, no cross suspicion—  Isab. 
To show ye Sir I understand a wife's part,  
Thus I assure my love, and seal your pardon.  2 Gentlew. 
'Tis well done, now to bed and there confirm it.  Gent. 
And so good night.  Bar. 
Aware relapses, Lopez. Exeunt.  Lop. 
Now Isabella tell me truth, and suddenly,  
And do not juggle with me, nor dissemble,  
For as I have a life ye die then: I am not mad,  
Nor does the Devil work upon my weakness,  
Tell me the trick of this, and tell me freely.  Isab. 
Will than that satisfy ye?  Lop. 
If ye deal ingenuously.  Isab. 
I'll tell ye all, and tell ye true and freely,  
Bartello was the end of all this jealousy,  
His often visitations brought by you, first  
Bred all these fits, and these suspicions:  
I knew your false key, and accordingly  
I framed my plot, to have him take him finely,  
Too poor a penance for the wrong his wife bears,  
His worthy virtuous wife: I felt it sensibly  
When ye took off the string, and was much pleased in't,  
Because I wished his importunate dotage paid well,  
And had you stayed two minutes more, ye had had him.  Lop. 
This sounds like truth.  Isab. 
Because this shall be certain,  
Next time he comes, as long he cannot tarry,  
yourself shall see, and hear, his lewd temptations.  Lop. 
Till then I am satisfied, and if this prove true,  
Henceforward Mistress of yourself I give ye,  
And I to serve ye: For my lusty Captain,  
I'll make him dance, and make him think the Devil  
Claws at his breech, and yet I will not hurt him:  
Come now to bed, and prove but constant this way,  
I'll prove the man you ever wished.  Isab. 
You have blessed me. Exeunt.    

Actus Quartus.  

Scaena Prima.  Enter Silvio. Sil. 
WHat labour and what travel have I run Through?  
And through what Cities to absolve this Riddle?  
Diviners, Dreamers, Schoolmen, deep Magicians,  
All have I tried, and all give several meanings,  
And from all hope of any future happiness,  
To this place am I come at length, the country,  
The people simple, plain, and harmless witty,  
Whose honest labours Heaven rewards with plenty  
Of Corn, Wine, Oil, which they again, as thankful,  
To their new Crops, new pastimes celebrate,  
And crown their joyful harvests with new voices;  
By a rich farmer here I am entertained,  
And ranked among the number of his Servants,  
Not guessing what I am, but what he would have me,  
Here may be so much wit (though much I fear it)  
To undo this knotty question; and would to Heaven  Enter Soto with a Proclamation. 
My fortunes had been hatched with theirs, as innocent,  
And never known a pitch above their plainness.  Soto. 
That it is, that it is, what's this word now? this  
Is a plaguy word, that it is, r. e. a. that it is, reason,  
By your leave, Mr. Soto, by your leave, you are too quick, Sir,  
there's a strange parlous T. before the reason,  
A very tall T. which makes the word High Treason.  Sil. 
What Treason's that? does this fellow understand Himself?  Soto. 
Pitch will infect, I'll meddle no more with this gear;  
What a Devil ails this fellow? this foolish fellow,  
Being admitted to be one of us too,  
That are the masters of the Sports proceeding,  
Thus to appear, before me too, unmorrissed?  
Do you know me friend?  Sil. 
You are my Matters Son, Sir.  Soto. 
And do you know what sports are now in season?  Sil. 
I hear there are some afoot.  Soto. 
Where are your Bells then?  
Your Rings, your Ribbons, friend? & your clean Napkins?  
Your nosegay in your hat, pinned up, am not I here?  
My father's eldest Son, and at this time, Sir,  
I would have ye know it, though ye be ten times his servant,  
A better man than my father far, Lord of this Harvest, Sir,  
And shall a man of my place want attendance?  Sil. 
'Twas want of knowledge, Sir, not duty, bred this,  
I would have made suit else for your Lordship's service.  Soto. 
In some sort I am satisfied now, mend your manners,  
But thou art a melancholy fellow, vengeance melancholy,  
And that may breed a insurrection amongst us;  
Go too, I'll lay the best part of two pots now  
Thou art in love, and I can guess with whom too,  
I saw the wench that twirled and twinkled at thee,  
The other day; the wench that's new come hither,  
The young smug wench.  Sil. 
You know more than I feel Sir.  Soto. 
Go too, I'll be thy friend, I'll speak a good word for thee,  
And thou shalt have my Lordship's countenance to her;  
May be I have had a snap myself, may be I, may be no,  
We Lords are allowed a little more.  Sil. 
'Tis fit Sir;  
I humbly thank ye, you are too too tender of me,  
But what Sir, I beseech ye, was that paper,  
Your Lordship was so studiously Employed in,  
When ye came out a doors?  Soto. 
Thou meanest this paper.  Sil. 
That Sir, I think.  Soto. 
Why, 'tis a Proclamation,  
A notable piece of villainy, as ever thou heard'st in thy life,  
By mine honour it is.  Sil. 
How Sir? or what concerns it?  Soto. 
It comes ye from the Duchess, a plaguy wise woman,  
To apprehend the body of one Silvio,  
As arrant a Rascal as ever pissed against post,  
And this same Silvio, or this foresaid rascal,  
To bring before her, live or dead; for which good service  
The man that brings him, has two thousand Ducats;  
Is not this notable matter now?  Sil. 
'Tis so indeed,  
This Proclamation bears my bane about it;  
Can no rest find me? no private place secure me?  
But still my miseries like bloodhounds haunt me?  
Unfortunate young man, which way now guides thee,  
Guides thee from death? the country's laid round for thee;  
O Claudio, now I feel thy blood upon me,  
Now it speaks loudly here, I am sure against me,  
Time now has found it out, and truth proclaimed it,  
And Justice now cries out, I must die for it.  Soto. 
Hast thou read it?  Sil. 
Yes.  Soto. 
And dost thou know that Silvio.  Sil. 
I never saw him, Sir.  Soto. 
I have, and know him too,  
I know him as well as I know thee, and better,  
And if I light upon him, for a trick he played me once,  
A certain kind of dogtrick, I'll so fiddle him,  
Two thousand Ducats, I'll so pepper him,  
And with that money I'll turn Gentleman,  
Worth a brown Bakers dozen of such Silvio's.  Sil. 
There is no staying here, this rogue will know me,  
And for the money's sake betray me too;  
I must bethink me suddenly and safely.  Enter Morris-dancers. Soto. 
Mine own dear Lady, have at thy honeycomb,  
Now, for the honour of our Town, Boys, trace sweetly,  Cry within of Arm, Arm. 
What a vengeance ails this hubbub? pox refuse 'em,  
Cannot they let us dance in our own defence here?  Enter Farmer and Captain. Capt. 
Arm, honest friends, arm suddenly & bravely,  
And with your ancient resolutions follow me;  
Look how the Beacons show like comets, your poor neighbours  
Run maddingly affrighted through the Villages;  
Sienna's Duke is up, burns all before him,  
And with his sword, makes thousand mothers childless,  Soto. 
What's this to our Morris-dancers?  Sil. 
This may serve my turn.  Soto. 
There's ne'er a Duke in Christendom but loves a May-game.  Cap. 
At a Horse you were always ceased, put your Son on him,  
And arm him well i'th' state's name, I command ye;  
And they that dare go voluntary, shall receive reward.  Soto. 
I dare go no way, Sir, this is strange, Master Captain,  
You cannot be content to spoil our sport here,  
Which I do not think your Worship's able to answer,  
But you must set us together by the ears, with I know not who to?  
We are for the bodily part o'th' dance.  Cap. 
Arm him suddenly,  
This is no time to fool, I shall return ye else,  
A rebel to the General, State, and duchess,  
And how you'll answer then—  Far. 
I have no more Sons, Sir,  
This is my only boy; I beseech ye Master Captain.  Soto. 
I am a rank coward too, to say the truth, Sir,  
I never had good luck at buffets neither.  Far. 
Here's vorty shillings, spare the child.  Cap. 
I cannot.  Soto. 
Are ye a man? will ye cast away a May-Lord?  
Shall all the wenches in the Country curse ye?  Sil. 
An't please you Captain, I'll supply his person,  
'Tis pity their old custom should be frighted,  
Let me have Horse, and good Arms, I'll serve willingly,  
And if I shrink a foot of ground, Hell take me.  Cap. 
A promising aspect, face full of courage,  
I'll take this man, and thank ye too.  Far. 
there's for thee,  
'Tis in a clout, but good old gold.  Sil. 
I thank ye Sir.  Far. 
Go saddle my fore-horse, put his feather on too,  
he'll prance it bravely, friend, he fears no Colours,  
And take the Armour down, and see him dizened,  Soto. 
Farewell, & if thou carriest thyself well in this matter,  
I say no more, but this, there must be more May-Lords,  
And I know who are fit.  Sil. 
Dance you, I'll fight, Sir,  Cap. 
Away, away.  Sil. 
Farewell, I am for the Captain. Exit.  Far. 
Now to this matter again, my honest fellows,  
For if this go not forward, I foresee friends,  
This war will fright our neighbours out o'th' villages;  
Cheer up your hearts, we shall hear better news, boys.  Hob. 
Surely, I will dance no more, 'tis most ridiculous,  
I find my wife's instructions now mere verities,  
My learned wives, she often hath pronounced to me  
My safety Bomby, defy these sports, thou art damned else,  
This Beast of Babylon, I will never back again,  
His pace is sure profane, and his lewd wihies  
The Sons of Hymyn, and Gymyn, in the wilderness.  Far. 
Fie neighbour Bomby, in your fits again,  
Your zeal sweats, this is not careful, neighbour,  
The Hobby-Horse, is a seemly Hobby-Horse.  Soto. 
And as pretty a Beast on's inches, though I say it.  Hob. 
The Beast is an unseemly, and a lewd Beast,  
And got at Rome by the pope's Coach-Horses,  
His mother was the Mare of ignorance.  Soto. 
Cobbler, thou liest, and thou wert a thousand Cobblers,  
His mother was an honest Mare, & a Mare of good credit,  
I know the Mare, and if need be, can bring witness;  
And in the way of honesty I tell thee,  
Scorned any Coach-Horse the Pope had, thou art foolish,  
And thy blind zeal makes thee abuse the Beast.  Hob. 
I do defy thee, and thy foot-cloth too,  
And tell thee to thy face, this profane riding  
I feel it in my conscience, and I dare speak it,  
This unedified ambling, hath brought a scourge upon us,  
This Hobby-horse sincerity we lived in  
War, and the sword of slaughter: I renounce it,  
And put the Beast off; thus, the Beast polluted,  
And now no more shall hope on high Bomby,  
Follow the painted Pipes of worldly pleasures,  
And with the wicked dance the devil's measures;  
Away thou pampered jade of vanity,  
Stand at the Livery of lewd delights now,  
And eat the provender of prick-eared folly,  
My dance shall be to the pipe of persecution.  Far. 
Will you dance no more Neighbour?  Hob. 
Surely no,  
Carry the Beast to his Crib: I have renounced him,  
And all his works.  Soto. 
Shall the Hobby-horse be forgot then?  
The hopeful Hobby-horse? shall he lie foundered?  
If thou dost this, thou art but a castaway Cobbler:  
My anger's up, think wisely, and think quickly,  
And look upon the quondam beast of pleasure,  
If thou dost this (mark me, thou serious Sowter)  
Thou Bench-whistler of the old tribe of toe-pieces,  
If thou dost this there shall be no more Shoe-mending,  
Every man shall have a special care of his own soul:  
And in his pocket carry his two Confessors,  
His Yugell, and his Nawle: if thou dost this—  Far. 
He will dance again for certain.  Hob. 
I cry out on't,  
'Twas the fore-running sin brought in those Tilt-staffs,  
They brandish 'gainst the Church, the Devil calls maypoles,  
Take up your Horse again, and girth him to ye,  
And girth him handsomely good neighbour Bomby.  Hob. 
I spit at him.  Soto. 
Spit in the Horse face, Cobbler?  
Thou out of tune-Psalm-singing Slave; spit in his visnomy?  Hob. 
I spit again, and thus I rise against him:  
Against this Beast: that signified destruction,  
Foreshowed i'th' falls of Monarchies.  Soto. 
i'th' face of him?  
Spit such another spit, by this hand Cobbler  
I'll make ye set a new piece o' your nose there,  
'take't up I say, and dance without more bidding,  
And dance as you were wont: you have been excellent  
And art still, but for this new nicety,  
And your wives learned Lectures: take up the Hobby-horse  
Come, 'tis a thing thou hast loved with all thy heart Bomby  
And wouldst do still but for the round-breeched Brothers:  
You were not thus in the morning, take't up I say,  
Do not delay but do it: you know I am officer,  
And I know 'tis unfit all these good fellows  
Should wait the cooling of your zealous porridge;  
Choose whether you will dance, or have me execute:  
I'll clap your neek i'th' Stocks, and there I'll make ye  
Dance a whole day, and dance with these at night too,  
You mend old Shoes well, mend your old manners better,  
And suddenly see you leave off this sincereness.  
This new hot batch borrowed from some brown Baker,  
Some learned Brother, or I'll so bait ye for't,  
Take it quickly up.  Hob. 
I take my persecution,  
And thus I am forced a byword to my Brethren.  Soto. 
Strike up, strike up: strike merrily.  Far. 
To it roundly,  
Now to the harvest feast: then sport again Boys. Exeunt   

Scaena Secunda.  Enter Silvio (armed.) Sil. 
What shall I do? live thus unknown, and base still?  
Or thrust myself into the head o'th' Battle?  
And there, like that I am, a Gentleman,  
And one that never feared the face of danger,  
(So in her angry eyes she carried honour)  
Fight nobly, and (to end my cares) die nobly?  

Song within.  
SIlvio go on, and raise thy noble mind  
To noble ends; fling course base thoughts behind:  
Silvio, thou Son of everliving fame,  
Now aim at virtue, and a Noble Name.  
Silvio consider, Honour is not won,  
Nor virtue reached, till some brave thing be done:  
Thy Country calls thee now; she burns, and bleeds,  
Now raise thyself, young man, to noble deeds.  
Into the Battle Silvio, there seek forth  
Danger, and blood, by them stands sacred worth.   
What heavenly voice is this that follows me?  
This is the second time 't has waited on me,  
Since I was armed, and ready for the Battle;  
It names me often, steels my heart with courage,  Enter Belvidere deformed. 
And in a thousand sweet notes comforts me;  
What beldam's this? how old she is, and ugly,  
Why does she follow me?  Bel. 
Be not dismayed, Son,  
I wait upon thee, for thy good, and honour,  
'Twas I that now sung to thee, stirred thy mind up,  
And raised thy spirits to the pitch of nobleness.  Sil. 
Though she be old, and of a crooked carcase,  
Her voice is like the harmony of Angels.  Bel. 
Thou art my darling, all my love dwells on thee  
The Son of virtue, therefore I attend thee;  
inquire not what I am, I come to serve thee,  
For if thou be'st inquisitive, thou hast lost me:  
A thousand long miles hence my dwelling is,  
Deep in a Cave, where but mine own, no foot treads,  
There by mine Art, I found what danger (Silvio)  
And deep distress of heart, thou wert grown into,  
A thousand leagues I have cut through empty air,  
Far swifter than the sailing tack that gallops  
Upon the wings of angry winds, to seek thee.  
Sometimes o'er a swelling tide, on a dolphin's back I ride,  
Sometimes pass the earth below, and through the unmoved Centre go;  
Sometimes in a flame of fire, like a Meteor I aspire,  
Sometimes in mine own shape, thus, when I help the virtuous,  
Men of honourable minds, command my Art in all his kinds;  
Pursue the noble thought of war, from thy Guard I'll not be far,  
Get thee worship on thy foe, lasting fame is gotten so.  
Single Sienna's Duke alone, hear thy friends, thy Country groan,  
And with thy manly arm strike sure, than thou hast wrought thine own free cure.  Sil. 
Some sibyl sure, some soul heaven loves, and favours.  
And lends her their free powers, to work their wonders?  
How she incites my courage?  Bel. 
Silvio,  
I knew thee many days ago,  
Foresaw thy love to Belvidere, the Duchess Daughter, and her Heir;  
Knew she loved thee, and know what past, when you were found i'th' Castle fast  
In one another's arms; foresaw the taking of ye, and the Law;  
And so thy innocence I loved, the deepest of my skill I proved;  
Be ruled by me, for to this hour I have dwelled about thee with my power.  Sil. 
I will, and in the course of all observe thee,  
For thou art sure an Angel good sent to me.  Bel. 
Get thee gone then to the fight, longer stay but robs thy right;  
When thou growest weary I'll be near, then think on beauteous Belvidere,  
For every precious thought of her, I'll lend thine honour a new spur;  
When all is done, meet here at night; Go and be happy in the fight. Exit.  Sil. 
I certainly believe I shall do nobly,  
And that I'll bravely reach at too, or die. Exeunt.   

Scaena Tertia.  Enter Claudio, and Penurio. Cla. 
Is she so loving still?  Pen. 
She is mad with love,  
As mad as ever unwormed dog was, Signior,  
And does so weep, and curse, for your prevention,  
Your crosses in your love; it frets me too,  
I am fall'n away to nothing, to a spindle,  
Grown a mere man of mat, no soul within me,  
Pox o' my Master, Sir, will that content ye?  Cla. 
This rogue but cozens me, and she neglects me,  
Upon my life there are some other gamesters,  
Nearer the wind than I, and that prevents me,  
Is there no other holds acquaintance with her?  
Prithee be true, be honest, do not mock me,  
Thou knowest her heart, no former interest  
She has vowed a favour to? and cannot handsomely  
Go off, but by regaining such a friendship?  
There are a thousand handsome men, young, wealthy,  
That will not stick at any rate, nor danger,  
To gain so sweet a prize; nor can I blame her,  
If where she finds a comfort she deal cunningly,  
I am a stranger yet.  Pen. 
Ye are all she looks for,  
And if there be any other, she neglects all,  
And all for you: I would you saw how grievously  
And with what hourly lamentations.  Cla. 
I know thou flatterest me; tell me but truth,  
Look here, look well, the best meat in the Dukedom,  
The rarest, and the choicest of all diets,  
This will I give thee, but to satisfy me;  
That is, not to dissemble; this rare Lobster,  
This Pheasant of the sea, this dish for Princes,  
And all this thou shalt enjoy, eat all thyself,  
Have good Greek wine, or any thing belongs to it,  
A wench if it desire one.  Pen. 
All this, Signior?  Cla. 
All, and a greater far than this.  Pen. 
A greater?  Cla. 
If thou deserve by telling truth.  Pen. 
A wench too?  Cla. 
Or any thing, but if you play the knave now,  
The Cozening knave besides the loss of this,  
In which thou hast parted with a paradise,  
I near will give thee meat more, not a morsel,  
No smell of meat by my means shall come near thee,  
Nor name of any thing that's nourishing,  
But to thy old part Tantalus again,  
Thou shalt return, and there snap at a shadow.  Pen. 
Upon this point, had I intended Treason,  
Or any thing might call my life in question,  
Followed with all the tortures time could think on,  
Give me but time to eat this lovely Lobster,  
This Alderman o'th' Sea, and give me wine to him,  
I would reveal all, and if that all were too little,  
More than I knew; Bartello holds in with her,  
The Captain of the Citadel, but you need not fear him,  
His tongue's the stiffest weapon that he carries.  
He is old, and out of use; there are some other,  
Men young enough, handsome, and bold enough,  
Could they come to make their game once; but they want Sir,  
They want the unde quare, they are laid by then,  Enter Bartello. 
You only are the man shall knock the nail in—  Bar. 
How now Penurio?  Pen. 
Your Worship's fairly met, Sir.  
You shall hear further from me, steal aside Sir.  Cla. 
Remember your Master for those Chains.  Pen. 
They are ready, Sir.  Bart. 
What young thing's this? by his habit he's a Merchant;  
I fear he trades my way too, you dried dogfish,  
What bait was that?  Pen. 
Who Sir, the thing went hence now?  
A notable young whelp.  Bart. 
To what end Sirrah?  Pen. 
Came to buy Chains and Rings, is to be married,  
An Ass, a Coxcomb, has nothing in his house, Sir;  
I warrant you think he came to see my Mistress?  Bart. 
I doubt it shrewdly.  Pen. 
Away, away, 'tis foolish;  
He has not the face to look upon a Gentlewoman,  
A poor skimmed thing, his Mother's maids are fain, Sir,  
To teach him how to kiss, and against he is married,  
To show him on which side the stirrup stands.  Bart. 
That's a fine youth.  Pen. 
Thou wouldst hang thyself, that thou hadst half his power,  
Thou empty Potgun.  Bart. 
Am I come fit Penurio?  Pen. 
As fit as a fiddle,  
My Matter's now abroad about his business.  Bart. 
When thou cam'st to me home today, I half suspected  
My wife was jealous, that she whispered to thee.  Pen. 
You deserve well the whilst, there's no such matter,  
She talked about some toys my Master must bring to her,  
You must not know of.  Bart. 
I'll take note, Penurio.  Pen. 
No, Nor you shall not, till you have it soundly.  
This is the bravest Capitano Pompo,  Enter Isabella. 
But I shall pump ye anon Sir.  Isab. 
O my Bartello?  Bart. 
Ye pretty Rogue, you little Rogue, you sweet Rogue,  
Away Penurio, go and walk i'th' Horse-fair.  Isab. 
You do not love me?  Bart. 
Thou liest thou little Rascal;  
There Sirrah, to your sentry.  Pen. 
How the Colt itches?  
I'll help ye to a Currycomb shall claw ye. Exit.  Isab. 
And how much dost thou love me?  Bart. 
Let's go in quickly,  
I'll tell thee presently, I'll measure it to thee.  Isab. 
No busses first? sit o' my knee, my brave boy,  
My valiant boy; do not look so fiercely on me,  
Thou wilt fright me with thy face; come buss again Chick,  
Smile in my face you mad thing.  Bart. 
I am mad indeed wench,  
Precious I am all o' fire.  Isab. 
I'll warrant thee better.  Bar. 
I'll warm thee too, or I'll blow out my bellows;  
Ha, ye sweet rogue, you loving rogue, a Boy now,  
A Soldier I will get shall prove a fellow.  Enter Jaquenet and Penurio. Jaq. 
Mistress, look to yourself, my Master's coming.  Bar. 
The Devil come, and go with him.  Pen. 
The devil's come indeed, he brings your wife, Sir.  Isab. 
We are undone, undone then.  Bar. 
My wife with him?  
Why this is a dismal day.  Pen. 
They are hard by too, Sir.  Bar. 
I must not, dare not see her.  Isab. 
Nor my Husband,  
For twenty thousand pound.  Bar. 
That I were a Cat now,  
Or any thing could run into a Bench-hole,  
Saint Anthony's Fire upon the Rogue has brought her;  
Where shall I be? just in the nick o'th' matter?  
When I had her at my mercy: think for heaven sake,  
My wife, all the wild furies hell has.  Pen. 
Up the Chimney.  Bar. 
They'll smoke me out there presently.  Isab. 
There, there, it must be there,  
We are all undone else: it must be up the Chimney.  Bar. 
Give me a Ladder.  Isab. 
You must use your Art Sir,  
Alas, we have no Ladders.  Bar. 
Pox o' thy husband,  
does he never mend his house?  Pen. 
No, nor himself neither:  
Up nimbly Sir, up nimbly.  Bar. 
Thou know'st I am fat,  
Thou merciless lean Rogue.  Pen. 
Will ye be killed?  
For if he take ye—  Bar. 
Lend me thy shoulder.  Pen. 
Soft Sir,  
You'll tread my shoulder-bones into my sides else,  
Have ye fast hold o'th' bars?  Bar. 
A vengeance bar 'em.  Isab. 
Patience good Captain, patience: quickly, quickly.  Bar. 
Do you think I am made of smoke?  Pen. 
Now he talks of smoke,  
What if my Master should call for fire?  Bar. 
Will ye Martyr me?  Isab. 
He must needs have it.  Bar. 
Will ye make me Bacon?  Isab. 
We'll do the best we can, are all things ready?  Pen. 
All, all, I have 'em all.  Bar. 
Go, let 'em in then,  
Not a word now on your life.  Bar. 
I hang like a Meteor.  Enter Lopez and Rodope. Lop. 
You are welcome Lady.  Rho. 
You are too too courteous,  
But I shall make amends, fair Isabella.  Isab. 
Welcome my worthy friend, most kindly welcome.  Rho. 
I hear on't, and I'll fit him for his foolery.  Lop. 
Some sweet meat's wife: some sweet meats presently.  Bart. 
O my sour sauce.  Lop. 
Away quick Isabella. Exit Isab.  
Did you hear him?  Rho. 
Yes, yes, perfectly, proceed Sir.  Lop. 
Speak loud enough: Dare ye at length but pity me?  Rho. 
'Faith Sir, you have used so many reasons to me,  
And those so powerfully—  Lop. 
Keep this kiss for me.  Bar. 
And do I stand and hear this?  Rho. 
This for me Sir,  
This is some comfort now: Alas my Husband—  
But why Do I think of so poor a fellow,  
So wretched, so deboshed?  Bar. 
That's I, I am bound to hear it.  Rho. 
I dare not lie with him, he is so rank a Whoremaster.  Lop. 
And that's a dangerous point.  Rho. 
Upon my conscience Sir,  
He would stick a thousand base diseases on me.  Bar. 
And now must I say nothing.  Lop. 
I am sound Lady.  Rho. 
That's it that makes me love ye.  Lop. 
Let's kiss again then.  Rho. 
Do, do.  Bar. 
Do, the Devil.  
And the grand Pox do with ye.  Lop. 
Do ye hear him? well—  Enter Penurio and Isabella. 
Now, what's the news with you?  Pen. 
The sound of War Sir,  
Comes still along: The Duke will charge the City,  
We have lost they say.  Lop. 
What shall become of me then,  
And my poor wealth?  Bar. 
Even hanged, I hope.  Rho. 
Remove your Jewels presently,  
And what you have of wealth into the Citadel,  
I hear all's secure.  Lop. 
I humbly thank ye Lady:  
Penurio, get me some can climb the Chimney,  
For there my Jewels are, my best, my richest,  
I hid 'em, fearing such a blow.  Pen. 
Most happily:  
I have two Boys, that use to sweep fouled Chimneys,  
Truly I brought 'em Sir, to mock your worship,  
For the great Fires ye keep, and the full diet.  Lop. 
I forgive thee knave, where are they?  Pen. 
Here Sir, here:  
monsieur Black will your small worship mount?  Enter two Boys. 1 Boy. 
Madam è be come to creep up into your Chimney, and make you. Boy sings.  
Clean, as any Lady in de world: Ma litla, litla frera, and è,  
Chanta, frere, chanta.  Pen. 
Come monsieur, mount, mountè, mount monsieur Mustard-pot. Boy sings.  1 Boy. 
monsieur è have dis for votra barba, ple ta von monsieur.  Pen. 
Mòunte monsieur, mountè dear be some fine tings.  1 Boy. 
Me will creep like de Ferret monsieur.  Pen. 
Dear in the Chimney. The Boy above singing.  1 Boy. 
He be de shield due shauson, Madam.  Boy goes in behind the Arras. Pen. 
There's a Birds-nest, I wound have ye climb it monsieur,  
Up my fine singing monsieur: that's a fine monsieur.  Lop. 
Watch him, he do not steal.  Pen. 
I warrant ye Sir.  Lop. 
These Boys are knavish. Boy within, Madam here be de Rat, de Rat Madam.  Pen. 
I'll look to him tithly  Lop. 
Lord, what comes here, Boy sings upon bartella's shoulder.  
A walking apparition?  Isab. 
Saint Christopher.  Rho. 
Mercy o' me, what is it?  
How like my Husband it looks?  Bar. 
Get ye down Devil,  
I'll break your neck else: was ever man thus chimneyed?  Lop. 
Go pay the Boys well: see them satisfied.  Pen. 
Come monsieur Devils, come my Blackberries  
I'll butter ye o' both sides.  Boy Exit saying, Adieu Madam, adieu Madam. Isab. 
Nay, e'en look Sir, are you cooled now, Captain?  Bar. 
I am Cuckolded, and fooled to boot too:  
Fooled fearfully, fooled shamefully.  Lop. 
You are welcome Sir,  
I am glad I have any thing within these doors Sir  
To make ye merry; you love my wife, I thank ye,  
You have showed your love.  Bar. 
Wife, am I this? this odd matter,  
This monstrous thing?  Rho. 
You ought, but yet you are not:  
I have been bold with you Sir, but yet not basely,  
As I have faith I have not.  Lop. 
Sir, believe it;  
'Twas all meant but to make you feel your trespass;  
We new your hour, and all this fashioned for it.  Bar. 
Were you o'th' plot too?  Isab. 
Yes by my troth, sweet Captain.  Bar. 
You will forgive me wife?  Rho. 
You will deserve it?  Bar. 
Put that toth' venture.  Rho: 
Thus am I friends again then,  
And as you ne'er had gone astray, thus kiss ye.  Bar. 
And I'll kiss you, and you too ask forgiveness;  
Kiss my wife Lopez, 'tis but in jest remember;  
And now all friends together to my Castle,  
Where we'll all dine, and there discourse these stories,  
And let him be Chimney-swept in's lust that glories. Exe.   

Scaena Q a ta.  Enter Silvio, and Belvidere severally. Sil. 
Haile reverent Dame, heaven wait upon thy studies.  Bel. 
You are well met Son: what is the Battle ended?  Sil. 
Mother, 'tis done.  Bel. 
How has thy honour prospered?  Sil. 
The Duchess has the day, Syenna's Prisoner:  
Armed with thy powerful Art, this arm dismounted him,  
Received him then on foot, and in fair valour  
Forced him mine own, this Jewel I took from him,  
It hung upon his cask, the Victor's triumph:  
And to the Duchess now a Prisoner  
I have rendered him: Come off again unknown, Mother.  Bel. 
'Tis well done, let me see he jewel Son;  
'Tis a rich one, curious set, fit a Princess Burgonet:  
This rich token late was sent, by the Duchess with intent  
The Marriage next day to begin: Dost thou know what's hid within?  
Wipe thine eyes, and then come near, see the beauteous Belvidere:  
Now behold it.  Sil. 
O my Saint.  Bel. 
We are it nobly, do not faint.  Sil. 
How blessed am I in this rich spoil, this picture,  
For ever will I keep it here, here Mother,  
For ever honour it: how oft, how chastely  
Have I embraced the life of this, and kissed it?  Bel. 
The day draws on that thou must home return,  
And make thy answer to the Duchess quest on  
I know it troubles thee, for if thou fail in't—  Sil. 
O, I must die.  Bel. 
Fear not, fear not, I'll be nigh,  
Cast thy trouble on my back, art nor cunning shall not lack  
To preserve thee, still to keep, what thy envious foemen seek;  
Go boldly home, and let thy mind, no distrustful crosses find:  
All shall happen for the best; souls walk through sorrows that are blessed.  Sil. 
Then I go confident.  Bel. 
But first my Son, a thankful service must be done,  
The good old woman for her pain, when every thing stands fair again,  
Must ask a poor Boon, and that granting, there's nothing to thy journey wanting.  Sil. 
Except the trial of my soul to mischief,  
And as I am a Knight, and love mine honour,  
I grant it whatsoever.  Bel. 
Thy pure soul  
Shall never sink for me, nor howl.  Sil. 
Then any thing.  Bel. 
When I shall ask remember.  Sil. 
If I forget, heaven's goodness forget me.  Bel. 
On thy journey then a while, to the next cross way and style  
I'll conduct thee, keep thee true, to thy Mistress and thy vow,  
And let all their envies fall, I'll be with thee and quench all.  Exeunt.   

Actus Quintus.  

Scaena Prima.  Enter duchess, Syenna, and Lords, Sy. 
LAdy, the stubborn war's more mild than you are,  
That allows Ransom, and the Prisoner taken—  Duch. 
We must not be too hasty: Remember Sir,  
The wrong and violence you have offered us,  
Burnt up our Frontier Towns, made prey before ye  
Both of our Beasts, and Corn; slain our dear Subjects,  
Opened the fountain eyes of thousand widows,  
That daily fling their curses on your fury;  
What ordinary satisfaction can salve this?  
What hasty thought-on Ransom give a remedy?  
You must excuse us yet, we'll take more counsel:  
In the mean time, not as a Prisoner,  
But as a noble Prince we entertain ye.  Sy. 
I am at your mercy Lady, 'tis my fortune,  
My stubborn fate; the day is yours, you have me,  
The valour of one single man has crossed me,  
Crossed me and all my hope; for when the Battles  
Were at the hottest game of all their furies,  
And conquest ready then to crown me Victor,  
One single man broke in, one sword, one virtue,  
And by his great example thousands followed,  
O how I shame to think on't, how it shakes me!  
Nor could our strongest head then stop his fury,  
But like a tempest 'bear the field before him,  
Till he arrived at me, with me he buckled,  
A while I held him play; at length his violence  
Beat me from my Saddle, then on foot pursued me,  
There triumphed once again, then took me Prisoner:  
When I was gone a fear possessed my people.  Duch. 
One single arm, in a just cause, heaven prospers.  
Is not this stranger Knight as yet discovered,  
That we may give his virtue a due honour?  Lord. 
Not yet that we hear Madam, but to that purpose,  
Two days ago we published Proclamations  Enter Soto with a Trumpet, and Silvio. Soto. 
O dainty duchess, here I bring that Knight  
Before thy fragrant face, that warlike wight,  
He that Syenna's Duke, and all his Louts  
Beat (as the Proverb seemly says) to clouts:  
He that unhorsed the man of fame to boot,  
And bootless taught his Grace to walk afoot:  
He that your writings (packed to every pillar)  
Promised promotion to, and store of filler,  
That very man I set before thy Grace,  
And once again pronounce this man it was.  Duch. 
A pretty foolish Squire, what must the Knight be?  Sy. 
Some Juggler, or some Madman.  Sil. 
I was not so,  
When thy faint Troops in flocks I beat before me,  
When through the thickest of thy warlike horse  
I shot myself, even to thy Standard Duke,  
And there found thee, there singled thee, there showed thee  
The temper of my Sword. 'Tis true, thou stoodst me,  
And like a noble Soldier bid'st me welcome;  
And this I'll say, More honour in that arm  
I found and tried, than all thy Army carried:  
What follows thy Imprisonment can tell thee.  Sy. 
His fair relation carries truth and virtue,  
And by those Arms I see (for such were his,  
So old, so rusty) this may be he that forced me.  Sil. 
Do you know this Jewel, from your Cask I rent it,  
Even as I closed, and forced ye from your saddle;  
Do you now remember me?  Sy. 
This is the valour  
Madam, for certain he, it must be he,  
That day I wore this Jewel, you remember it.  Duch. 
Yes, very well; not long before I sent it.  Sy. 
That day I lost this Jewel, in fight I lost it,  
I felt his strokes, and felt him take it from me,  
I wore it in my Cask; take it again Sir,  
You won it nobly, 'tis the prize of honour.  Soto. 
My Father, and myself are made for ever.  Duc. 
Kneel down brave Sir, thus my Knight first I raise ye,  
Gird on a Sword; next General of my Army,  
Give him a Staff; last, one in Counsel near me.  
Now, make us happy with your sight: how? Silvio?  
Have I on thee bestowed this love, this honour?  
The Treasons thou hast wrought set off with favours?  
Unarm him presently: O thou foul Traitor,  
Traitor to me, mine honour, and my Country,  
Thou kindler of these Wars.  Sil. 
Mistake not Madam.  Duch. 
Away with him to prison,  
See him safe kept, the Law shall shortly Sirrah,  
Find fitter titles for ye, than I gave ye.  Soto. 
This is the youth that killed me, I'll be quit with him,  
What a blind rogue was I, I could never know him?  
an't please your Grace, I claim the benefit  
Of the Proclamation that proclaimed him Traitor,  
I brought him in.  Duch. 
Thou shalt have thy reward for't.  Soto. 
Let him be hanged, or drowned then.  Duch. 
Away with him.  Sil. 
Madam, I crave your promise first; you are tied to it,  
You have passed your Princely word.  Duch. 
Prove it, and take it.  Sil. 
This is the day appointed,  
Appointed by your Grace for my appearance,  
To answer to the Question.  Duch. 
I remember it.  Sil. 
I claim it then,  Duch. 
If you perform it not,  
The penalty you claim too.  Sil. 
I not repent it;  
If I absolve the words?  Duch. 
Your life is free then,  
You have drawn a speedy course above my wishes,  
To my revenge, be sure ye hit it right,  
Or I'll be sure you shall not scape the danger.  Sil. 
My rest is up now Madam.  Duch. 
Then play it cunningly.  Sil. 
Now, where's the Hag? where now are all her promises,  
She would be with me, strengthen me, inform me?  
My death will now be double death, ridiculous:  
She was wont still to be near, to feel my miseries,  
And with her Art, I see her nowhere now;  
What have I undertaken? now she fails me,  
No comfort now I find, how my soul staggers?  
Till this hour never fear, nor doubt possessed me,  
She cannot come, she will not come, she has fooled me;  
Sure, she is the Devil, has drawn me on to ruin,  
And now to death bequeathes me in my danger.  Sy. 
He stands distracted, and his colour changes.  Duch. 
I have given him that will make his blood forsake him;  
Shortly his life.  Sy. 
His hands and contemplation  
Have motion still, the rest is earth already.  Duc. 
Come, will ye speak or pray? your time grows out Sir;  
How everywhere he looks? he's at last cast.  Enter Belvidere, and secretly gives him a paper, and Exit. Sy. 
His colour comes again fresh.  Duc. 
'Tis a flash, Sir,  
Before the flame burns out; can ye yet answer?  Sil. 
Yes Madam, now I can.  Duch. 
I fear you'll fail in't.  Sil. 
And do not think my silence a presage,  
Or Omen to my end, you shall not find it;  
I am bred a Soldier, not an Orator,  
Madam, peruse this scroll, let that speak for me,  
And as you are Royal, wrong not the construction.  Duch. 
By Heaven you shall have fair play.  Sil. 
I shall look for't.  

Question.  
Tell me what it that only thing,  
For which all women long;  
Yet having what they most desire,  
To have it does them wrong.   

Answer.  
'tis not to be chaste, nor fair,  
Such gifts malice may impair;  
Richly trimmed, to walk or ride,  
Or to wanton unespied;  
To preserve an honest name,  
And so to give it up to fame;  
These are toys. In good or ill  
They desire, to have their will;  
Yet when they have it, they abuse it,  
For they know not how to use it.   Duch. 
You have answered right, and gained your life,  
I give it.  Sil. 
O happy Hag! But my most gracious Madam,  
Your promise tide a nobler favour to me.  Duch. 
'Tis true, my daughter too.  Sil 
I hope you will keep it.  Duc. 
'Tis not in my power now, she is long since wandered,  
Stolen from the Court, and me; and what I have not  
I cannot give: no man can tell me of her,  
Nor no search find her out: and if not Silvio,  
Which strongly I believe—  Sil. 
Mock me not Lady,  
For as I am a servant to her virtue,  
Since my first hour of exile, I ne'er saw her  Lord. 
That she is gone 'tis too too true, and lamentable,  
Our last hope was in you.  Sil. 
What do I hear then,  
And wherefore have I life bestowed and honour?  
To what end do I walk? for men to wonder at,  
And fight, and fool? pray ye take your honours from me,  
(My sorrows are not fit companions for 'em)  
And when ye please my life: Art thou gone Mistress,  
And wanderest heaven knows where? this vow I make thee,  
That till I find thee out, and see those fair eyes,  
Those eyes that shed their lights, and life into me,  
Never to know a friend, to seek a kindred,  
To rest where pleasure dwells, and painted glory,  
But through the world, the wide world thus to wander,  
The wretched world alone, no comfort with me,  
But the mere meditations of thy goodness:  
Honour and greatness, thus adieu.  Enter Belvidere. Bel. 
Stay Silvio,  
And Lady sit again, I come for Justice.  Sil. 
What would she now?  Bel. 
To claim thy promise Silvio,  
The Boon thou sworest to give me.  Sy. 
What may this be,  
A woman, or a Devil?  Duch. 
'Tis a Witch sure,  
And by her means he came to untwist this Riddle,  Sil. 
That I am bound to her for my life, mine honour,  
And many other thousand ways for comfort  
I here confess: Confess a promise too,  
That what she would ask me to requite these favours,  
Within the endeavour of my life to grant,  
I would; and here I stand my words full master.  Bel. 
I wish no more: great Lady, witness with me,  
The Boon I crave for all my service to thee,  
Is now to be thy wife, to grant me marriage.  Sil. 
How? for to marry thee? ask again woman,  
Thou wilful woman, ask again.  Bel. 
No more Sir.  Sil. 
Ask land, and life.  Bel. 
I ask thee for a Husband.  Soto. 
Marry her, and beat her into Gunpowder,  
She would make rare Crackers.  Sil. 
Ask a better fortune,  
Thou art too old to marry: I a Soldier,  
And always married to my sword.  Bel. 
Thy word Fool,  
Break that, and I'll break all thy fortunes yet.  Duch. 
He shall not,  
I am witness to his faith: and I'll compel it.  Sy. 
'Tis fit ye hold your word, Sir.  Sil. 
O most wretched.  Duch. 
This was a fortune now beyond my wishes,  
For now my Daughter's free, if e'er I find her.  Sy. 
But not from me.  Duch. 
You are sharer in this happiness,  
myself will wait upon this marriage,  
And do the old woman all the honour possible.  Sy. 
I'll lead the Knight, and what there wants in dalliance,  
we'll take it out in drink.  Sil. 
O wretched Silvio. Exeunt.   

Scaena Secunda.  Enter Lopez and Isabella. Lop. 
Hast thou sent for him?  Isab. 
Yes,  Lop. 
A young man, sayst thou?  Isab. 
Yes, very young, and very amorous.  Lop. 
And handsome?  Isab. 
As the Town affords.  Lop. 
And dar'st thou  
Be so far good, and Mistress of thine honour,  
To sleight these?  Isab. 
For my husband's sake to curse 'em,  
And since you have made me Mistress of my fortune,  
Never to point at any joy, but husband,  
I could have cozened ye, but so much I love ye,  
And now so much I weigh the estimation  
Of an unspotted wife—  Lop. 
I dare believe thee,  
And never more shall doubt torment my spirit.  Enter Penurio. Isab. 
How now Penurio?  Pen. 
The thing is coming, Mistress.  Lop. 
I'll take my standing.  Pen. 
Do, and I'll take mine. Exit Lopes.  Isab. 
Where didst thou leave him?  Pen. 
I left him in a Cellar,  
Where he has paid me tightly, paid me home Mistress,  
We had an hundred & fifty healths to you, sweet Mistress,  
And three score and ten damnations to my Master;  
Mistress, shall I speak a foolish word to ye?  Isab. 
What's that Penurio?  
The fellow's drunk.  Pen. 
I would fain know your body.  Isab. 
How's that? how's that prithee?  Pen. 
I would know it carnally,  
I would conglutinate.  Isab. 
The reason sirrah?  Pen. 
Lobster, sweet Mistress, Lobster.  Isab. 
Thy Master hears.  Pen. 
Lobster, sweet Master, Lobster.  Isab. 
Thou art the most precious rogue.  Enter Claudio. Pen. 
Most precious Lobster.  Isab. 
Do you see who's here? go sleep ye drunken rascal.  Pen. 
Remember you refuse me armed in Lobster. Exit.  Isab. 
O my lost Rugio, welcome, welcome, welcome,  
A thousand welcomes here I'll seal.  Cla. 
Pray ye stay, Lady,  
Do you love me ever at this rate? or is the fit now,  
By reason of some wrong done by your husband,  
More fervent on ye?  Isab. 
Can I choose but love thee?  
Thou art my Martyr, thou hast suffered for me,  
My sweet, sweet Rugio.  Cla. 
Do you do this seriously?  
'Tis true, I would be entertained thus.  Isab. 
These are nothing,  
No kisses, no embraces, no endearments,  
To those—  Cla. 
Do what you will.  Isab. 
Those that shall follow,  
Those I will crown our love withal; why sigh ye?  
Why look ye sad my dear one?  Cla. 
Nay faith nothing,  
But methinks so sweet a beauty, as yours shows to me,  
And such an innocence as you may make it,  
Should hold a longer Siege.  Isab. 
Ha, you speak truth, Sir.  Cla. 
I would not have it so.  Isab. 
And now methinks,  
Now I consider truly what becomes me,  
I have been cozened, fearfully abused,  
My reason blinded.  Cla. 
Nay, I did but jest with ye.  Isab. 
I'll take ye at your word, and thank ye for't Sir;  
And now I see no sweetness in that person,  
Nothing to stir me to abuse a Husband,  
To ruin my fair fame.  Cla. 
Good Isabella.  Isab. 
No handsome man, no any thing to dote on,  
No face, no tongue to catch me, poor at all points,  
And I an ass.  Cla. 
Why do ye wrong me Lady?  
If I were thus, and had no youth upon me,  
My service of so mean a way to win ye,  
(Which you yourself are conscious must deserve ye,  
If you had thrice the beauty you possess, must reached ye)  
If in my tongue your fame lay wracked, and ruined  
With every cup I drink: if in opinion  
I were a lost, defamed man: but this is common  
Where we love most, where most we stake our fortunes,  
There least and basest we are rewarded: fare ye well,  
Know now I hate you too as much, contemn ye,  
And weigh my credit at as high a value.  Isab. 
May be I did but jest.  Cla. 
Ye are a woman,  
And now I see your wants, and mine own follies,  
And task myself with indiscretion,  
For doting on a face so poor.  Isab. 
Say ye so Sir,  
(I must not lose my end) I did but jest with you,  
Only fooled thus to try your faith: my Rugio,  
Do you think I could forget?  Cla. 
Nay, 'tis no matter.  Isab. 
Is't possible I should forsake a constancy,  
So strong, so good, so sweet?  Cla. 
A subtle woman.  Isab. 
You shall forgive me, 'twas a trick to try ye,  
And were I sure ye loved me—  Cla. 
Do you doubt now?  Isab. 
I do not doubt, but he that would profess this,  
And bear that full affection you make show of,  
Should do—  Cla. 
What should I do?  Isab. 
I cannot show ye.  Cla. 
I'll try thee damnedest Devil: hark ye Lady,  
No man shall dare do more, no service top me,  
I'll marry ye.  Isab. 
How Sir?  Cla. 
Your husbands sentenced,  
And he shall die.  Isab. 
Die?  Cla. 
Die for ever to ye,  
The danger is mine own.  Isab. 
Die did ye tell me?  Cla. 
He shall die, I have cast the way.  Isab. 
O foul man,  
Malicious bloody man.  Enter Lopez. Lop, 
When shall he die Sir,  
By whom, and how?  Cla. 
Hast thou betrayed me, woman?  Isab. 
Base man, thou wouldst have ruined me, my name too,  
And like a Toad, poisoned my virtuous memory:  
Further than all this, dost thou see this friend here,  
This only friend, shame take thy lust and thee,  
And shake thy soul, his life, the life I love thus,  
My life in him, my only life thou aimedst at.  Cla. 
Am I catch's thus?  Lop. 
The Law shall catch ye better.  Isab. 
You make a trade of betraying women's honours,  
And think it noble in ye to be lustful,  
Report of me hereafter—  Cla. 
Fooled thus finely?  Lop. 
I must entreat ye walk, Sir, to the Justice,  
Where if he'll bid ye kill me—  Cla. 
Pray stay a while, Sir,  
I must use a player's shift, do you know me now Lady?  Lop. 
Your brother Claudio sure.  Isab. 
O me, 'tis he Sir,  
O my best brother.  Cla. 
My best sister now too,  
I have tried ye, found ye so, and now I love ye,  
Love ye so truly nobly.  Lop. 
Sir, I thank ye,  
You have made me a most happy man.  Cla. 
Thank her Sir,  
And from this hour preserve that happiness,  
Be no more fooled with jealousy.  Lop. 
I have lost it,  
And take me now new borne again, new natured.  Isab. 
I do, and to that promise tie this faith,  
Never to have a false thought tempt my virtue.  Lop. 
Enough, enough, I must desire your presence,  
My cousin Rhodope has sent in all haste for us,  
I am sure you will be welcome.  Cla. 
I'll wait on ye.  Lop. 
What the Project is—  Isab. 
We shall know when we are there, Sir. Exeunt.   

Scaena Tertia.  Enter duchess, Syenna, Lords, Silvio. Duch. 
Joy to you Silvio, and your young fair Bride,  
You have stolen a day upon us; you cannot woo Sir.  Sil. 
The joys of Hell hang over me, O mischief,  
To what a fortune has the Devil driven me?  
Am I reserved for this?  Sy. 
Beshrew me Sir,  
But you have gotten you a right fair bedfellow,  
Let you alone to choose.  Sil. 
I beseech your Grace,  
'Tis misery enough to have met the Devil,  
Not men's reproaches too.  Sy. 
How old is she?  Duch. 
A very Girl, her eye delivers it.  Sy. 
Her teeth are scarce come yet.  Lord. 
What goodly children  
Will they two have now? she is rarely made to bread on,  
What a sweet timbered body?  Duch. 
Knotty i'th' back,  
But will hold out the stronger; What a nose?  Sy. 
I marry, such a nose, so rarely mounted,  
Upon my conscience, 'twas the part he doted on.  Duch. 
And that fine little eye to it, like an Elephants.  Lord. 
Yes, if her feet were round, and her ears satchels.  Sy. 
For any thing we know.  Sil. 
Have ye no mercy?  
No pity in your bloods, to use a wretch thus?  
You Princes, in whose hearts the best compassions,  
Nearest to those in Heaven, should find fit places,  
Why do you mock at misery? Fling scorns and baseness  
Upon his broken back, that sinks with sorrows?  
Heaven may reward you too, and an hour come,  
When all your great designs shall show ridiculous,  
And your hearts pinched like mine.  Music in divers places Duch. 
Fie Sir, so angry  
Upon your wedding day? go smug yourself,  
The Maid will come anon: what music's this?  Sy. 
I warrant you some noble preparation.  Duch. 
Let's take our places then.  Sil. 
More of these devil's dumps?  
Must I be ever haunted with these witchcrafts?  Enter a Masquerado of several Shapes and Dances, after which enter Belvidere and disperses them, before the Maskers enter two Presenters, among which are Bartello, Lopez, Claudio, Isabella, Rhodope, Soto, Penurio, Jaquenet. 1. Pre. 
Room, room for merry spirits, room,  
Hither on command we come,  
From the good old Beldame sent,  
Cares and sorrows to prevent.  2. 
Look up Silvio, smile, and sing,  
After winter comes a spring.  1. 
Fear not faint fool what may follow,  
Eyes that now are sunk and hollow,  
By her Art may quick return  
To their flames again, and burn.  2. 
Art commands all youth, and blood,  
Strength and beauty it makes good.  1. 
Fear not then, despair not, sing  
Round about as we do spring:  
Cares and sorrows cast away,  
This is the old wife's holiday.  Dance here, then enter Belvidere. Duch. 
Who is this?  Sy. 
The shape of Belvidere.  Bel. 
Now Silvio,  
How dost thou like me now?  Sil. 
Thus I kneel to thee.  Bel. 
Stand up, and come no nearer, mark me well too,  
For if thou troublest me I vanish instantly:  
Now choose wisely or choose never,  
One thou must enjoy for ever.  
Dost thou love me thus?  Sil. 
Most dearly.  Bel. 
Take heed fool, it concerns thee nearly.  
If thou wilt have me young and bright,  
Pleasing to thine eye and sight,  
Courtly, and admired of all,  
Take heed lest thy fame do fall,  
I shall then be full of scorn,  
Wanton, proud, beware the horn,  
Hating what I loved before,  
Flattery apt to fall before,  
All consuming, nothing getting,  
Thus thy fair name comes to setting.  
But if old and free from these  
Thou shalt choose me, I shall please:  
I shall then maintain thee still,  
With my virtue and my skill:  
Still increase and build thy name,  
Choose now Silvio, here I am.  Sil. 
I know not what to say, which way to turn me,  
Into thy Sovereign will I put my answer.  Bel. 
I thank ye Sir, and my will thus rewards ye,  
Take your old Love, your best, your dearest Silvio:  
No more Spells now, nor further shapes to alter me,  
I am thy Belvidere indeed, Dear Mother,  
There is no altering this; heavens hand is with it:  
And now you ought to give me, he has fairly won me.  Sil. 
But why that Hag?  Bel. 
In that shape most secure still,  
I followed all your fortunes, served, and counselled ye,  
I met ye at the Farmers first a Country wench,  
Where fearing to be known I took that habit,  
And to make ye laughing sport at this mad marriage,  
By secret aid of my friend Rhodope  
We got this Mask.  Sil. 
And I am sure I have ye.  Bel. 
For ever now, for ever.  Duch. 
You see it Let 's,  
The wheel of destiny hath turned it round so.  Sy. 
It must, it is, and Mine's be he that breaks it.  Duch. 
I'll put a choice to you Sir: ye are my Prisoner.  Sy. Mine's 
I am so, and I must be so, till it please you—  Duch. 
Choose one let 's, either to pay a Ransom,  
At what rate I shall set it, which shall be high enough,  
And so return a Freeman, and a Bachelor,  
Or give me leave to give you a fit wife,  
In honour every way your grace's equal,  
And so your Ransom's paid.  Sy. 
You say most nobly,  
Silvio's example's mine, pray choose you for me.  Duc. 
I thank ye Sir, I have got the mastery too,  
And here I give your Grace a husband's freedom,  
Give me your hand, my Husband.  Sy. 
You much honour me,  
And I shall ever serve ye for this favour.  Bart. 
Come Lopez, let us give our wives the breeches too,  
For they will have 'em.  Lop. 
Whilst they rule with virtue  
I'll give 'em, skin and all.  Isab. 
we'll scratch it off else.  Sil. 
I am glad ye live, more glad ye live to honour,  
And from this hour a stronger love dwell with us;  
Pray you take your man again.  Cla. 
He knows my house Sir.  Duch. 
'Tis sin to keep you longer from your Loves,  
we'll lead the way; and you young men that know not  
How to preserve a wife, and keep her fair,  
Give 'em their sovereign wills, & pleased they are. Exeunt.    
Here endeth Women pleased.