LOVES PILGRIMAGE.  

Actus Primus.  

Scaena Prima.  Enter Incubo the Bailiff, Diego the Host. Inc. 
SIgnior Don Diego, and mine Host, save thee.  Die. 
I thank you Mr Baily.  Inc. 
O the block.  Die. 
Why, how should I have answered?  Inc. 
Not with that  
Negligent rudeness: But I kiss your hands  
Signior Don Incubo de Hambre, and then  
My titles; Master Baily of Castil-blanco:  
Thou ne'er wilt have the elegancy of an Host;  
I sorrow for thee, as my friend and gossip:  
No smoke, nor steam out-breathing from the kitchen?  
There's little life i'th' hearth then.  Die. 
ay, there, there,  
That is his friendship, harkening for the spit,  
And sorrow that he cannot smell the pot boil.  Inc. 
Strange  
An Inn should be so cursed, and not the sign  
Blasted, nor withered; very strange, three days now,  
And not an egg eat in it, or an onion.  Die. 
I think they ha' strewed the highways with cal-traps, ay,  
No horse dares pass 'em; I did never know  
A week of so sad doings, since I first  
Stood to my signpost.  Inc. 
Gossip, I have found  
The root of all; kneel, pray, it is thyself  
Art cause thereof: each person is the founder  
Of his own fortune, good, or bad; but mend it,  
Call for thy cloak, and rapier.  Die. 
How?  Inc. 
Do, call,  
And put 'em on in haste: Alter thy fortune,  
By appearing worthy of her: Dost thou think  
Her good face ere will know a man in cverpo?  
In single body, thus? in hose, and doublet?  
The horse boys garb? base blank, and half blank cverpo?  
Did I, or Mr Dean of Civil our neighbour  
Ere reach our dignities in cverpo, thinkst thou,  
In squirting hose, and doublet? Signior, no,  
There went more to't: there were cloaks, gowns, cassocks  
And other paramentos; Call, I say,  
His cloak, and rapier here. Enter Hostess.  Hostes. 
What means your worship?  Inc. 
Bring forth thy husband's Sword: so hang it on,  
And now his cloak, here, cast it up; I mean  
Gossip, to change your luck, and bring you guests.  Hostes. 
Why? is there charm in this?  Inc. 
Expect; now walk,  
But not the pace of one that runs on errands;  
For want of gravity in an Host, is odious:  
You may remember Gossip, if you please,  
(Your wife being then th' Infanta of the Gipsies,  
And yourself governing a great man's Mules then)  
Me a poor Squire at Madrid attending  
A Master of Ceremonies; But a man, believe it,  
That knew his place to the gold weight, and such  
Have I heard him oft say, ought every Host  
Within the Catholic kings dominions  
Be in his own house.  Die. 
How?  Inc. 
A Master of Ceremonies:  
At least vice-master, and to do nought in cverpo,  
That was his maxim; I will tell thee of him:  
He would not speak with an Ambassadors Cook,  
See a cold bake-meat from a foreign part  
In cverpo: had a dog but stayed without,  
Or beast of quality, as an English cow,  
But to present itself, he would put on  
His Savoy chain about his neck, the ruff  
And cuffs of Holland, than the Naples hat  
With the Rome hatband, and the Florentine agate,  
The Milan Sword, the Cloak of Genua, set  
With Flemish buttons, all his given pieces  
To entertain 'em in, and compliment Knock within.  
With a tame Coney, as with the Prince that sent it.  Die. 
List, who is there?  Inc. 
A guest and 't be thy will.  Die. 
Look Spouse, cry luck, and we be encountered: ha?  Host. 
Luck then, and good, for 'tis a fine brave guest,  
With a brave horse.  Inc. 
Why now, believe of cverpo Enter Theodosia.  
As you shall see occasion: go, and meet him.  Theo. 
Look to my horse, I pray you, well.  Die. 
He shall Sir.  Inc. 
Oh how beneath his rank and call was that now?  
Your horse shall be entreated as becomes  
A horse of fashion, and his inches.  Theo. 
O.  Inc. 
Look to the Cavalier: what ails he? stay  
If it concern his horse, let it not trouble him,  
He shall have all respect the place can yield him  
Either of barley, or fresh straw.  Die. 
Good Sir  
Look up.  Inc. 
He sinks, somewhat to cast upon him,  
he'll go away in cverpo else.  Die. 
What, wife!  
O your hot waters quickly, and some cold  
To cast in his sweet face.  Host. 
Alas, fair flower?  Die. 
does anybody entertain his horse?  Host. 
Yes, Lazaro has him.  Enter Hostess with a glass of water. Inc. 
Go you see him in person.  Host. 
Sir, taste a little of this, of mine own water,  
I did distil't myself; sweet Lily look upon me,  
You are but newly blown, my pretty Tulip.  
Faint not upon your stalk, 'tis firm and fresh  
Stand up, so, bolt upright, you are yet in growing.  The. 
Pray you let me have a chamber.  Host. 
That you shall Sir.  The. 
And where I may be private, I entreat you.  Host. 
For that introth Sir, we ha' no choice: our house  
Is but a vent of need, that now and then  
Receives a guest, between the greater towns  
As they come late; only one room,  Inc. 
She means Sir, it is none  
Of those wild, scattered heaps, called inns, where scarce  
The Host is heard, though he wind his horn t'his people,  
Here is a competent pile, wherein the man,  
Wife, Servants, all do live within the whistle  Host. 
Only one room.  Inc. 
A pretty modest quadrangle  
She will describe to you.  Host. 
Wherein stands two Beds Sir  Enter Diego. 
We have, and where, if any guest do come,  
He must of force be lodged, that is the truth Sir.  Theo. 
But if I pay you for both your beds, methinks  
That should alike content you.  Host. 
That it shall Sir.  
If I be paid, I am prayed.  Theo. 
Why, there's a Ducat  
Will that make your content?  Host. 
O the sweet face on you:  
A Ducat? yes, and there were three beds Sir,  
And twice so many rooms, which is one more,  
You should be private in 'em all, in all Sir,  
No one should have a piece of a bed with you  
Not Master Dean of Civil himself, I swear  
Though he came naked hither, as once he did  
When h'had like t'have been ta'en a-bed with the moor  
And guelt by her Master: you shall be as private,  
As if you lay in's own great house, that's haunted,  
Where nobody comes, they say:  Theo. 
I thank you Hostess.  
Pray you will you show me in.  Host. 
Yes marry will I Sir,  
And pray that not a flea, or a chink vex you  Exit Host. and Theo. Inc. 
You forget supper: Gossip: move for supper  Die. 
'Tis strange what love to a beast may do, his Horse  
Threw him into this fit.  Inc. 
You shall excuse me  
It was his being in Cuerpo, merely caused it.  Die. 
Do you think so Sir?  Inc. 
Most unlucky Cuerpo,  
nought else, he looks as he would eat partridge,  
This guest; ha' you 'em ready in the house?  
And a fine piece of kid now? and fresh garlic,  Enter Hostess. 
With a Sardina, and Zant oil? how now?  
Has he bespoke? what will he have a brace,  
Or but one partridge, or a short legged hen,  
Daintily carbonadoed?  Host. 
'las the dead  
May be as ready for a Supper as he.  Inc. 
Ha?  Host. 
He has no mind to eat, more than his shadow:  Inc. 
Say you.  Dieg. 
How does your worship  Inc. 
I put on  
My left  first today, now I perceive it,  
And skipped a bead in saying 'em o'er; else  
I could not be thus crossed: He cannot be  
Above seventeen; one of his years, and have  
No better a stomach?  Host. 
And in such good clothes too  Dieg. 
Nay, those do often make the stomach worse, wife,  
That is no reason.  Inc. 
I could at his years Gossips  
(As temperate as you see me now) have eaten  
My brace of ducks, with my half goose, my coney,  
And drink my whole twelve Marvedis in wine  
As easy as I now get down three olives.  Dieg. 
And with your temperance-favour, yet I think  
Your worship would put to't at six and thirty  
For a good wager; and the meal in too.  Inc. 
I do not know what mine old mouth can do,  
I ha' not proved it lately  Dieg. 
That's the grief Sir.  Inc. 
But is he without hope then gone to bed?  Host. 
I fear so Sir, has locked the door close to him  
Sure he is very ill.  Inc. 
That is with fasting,  
You should ha' told him Gossip, what you had had,  
Given him the inventory of your kitchen,  
It is the picklock in an Inn, and often  
Opens a close barred stomach: what may he be trob?  
Has he so good a Horse?  Dieg. 
Oh a brave Jennet,  
As ere your worship saw.  Inc. 
And he eats  Dieg. 
Strongly,  Inc. 
A mighty solecism, heaven give me patience,  
What creatures has he?  Host. 
None.  Inc. 
And so well clothed,  
And so well mounted?  Di g. 
That's all my wonder Sir,  
Who he should be; he is attired and horsed  
For the Constable's son of Spain.  Inc. 
My wonders more  
He should want appetite: well a good night  
To both my Gossips: I will for this time  
Put off the thought of supping; In the morning  
Remember him of breakfast pray you,  Host. 
'T shall Sir,  Dieg. 
A hungry time Sir.  Inc. 
We that live like mice  
On others' meat, must watch when we can get it Exit Incubo.  Host. 
Yes, but I would not tell him: Our fair guest  
Says, though he eat no supper, he will pay for one.  Dieg. 
Good news: we'll eat it spouse, 't his health,  
'Twas politicly done t'admit no sharers.  Enter Philippo. Phil. 
Look to the Mules there, where's mine Host?  Dieg. 
Here Sir.  
Another Fairy.  Host. 
Bless me.  Phil. 
From what sweet Hostess?  
Are you afraid o' your guests?  Host. 
From Angels Sir,  
I think there's none but such come here tonight,  
My house had never so good luck afore  
For brave fine guests; and yet the ill luck on't is  
I cannot bid you welcome.  Phil. 
No?  Host. 
Not lodge you Sir.  Phil. 
Not, Hostess?  Host. 
No in troth Sir, I do tell you  
Because you may provide in time: my beds  
Are both ta'en up by a young Cavalier  
That will, and must be private.  Die. 
He has paid Sir  
For all our Chambers.  Host. 
Which is one: and Beds  
Which I already ha' told you are two: But Sir,  
So sweet a creature, I am very sorry  
I cannot lodge you by him; you look so like him  
You're both the loveliest pieces.  Phil. 
What train has he?  Die. 
None but himself.  Phil. 
And will no less than both deeds  
Serve him?  Host. 
H'as given me a ducat for 'em.  Phil. 
O.  
You give me reason Hostess: Is he handsome,  
And young do you say?  Host. 
O Sir, the delicat'st flesh  
And finest clothes withal, and such a horse,  
With such a Saddle.  Phil. 
she's in love with all.  
The horse, and him, and Saddle, and clothes: good woman,  
Thou justifiest thy Sex; lov'st all that's brave:  Enter Incubo. 
Sure though I lie o'th' ground, I'll stay here now  
And have a sight of him: you'll give me houseroom,  
Fire, and fresh meat for money: gentle Hostess  
And make me a ?  Inc. 
Sir she shall do reason:  
I understood you had another guest: Gossips  
Pray you let his Mule be looked too: have good straw,  
And store of bran: And Gossip do you hear,  
Let him not stay for supper: what good fowl ha' you?  
This gentleman would eat a pheasant.  Host. 
'las Sir;  
We ha' no such.  Inc. 
I kiss your hands fair Sir.  
What ha' you then? speak what you have? I'm one Sir  
Here for the Catholic King, an Officer  
T' inquire what guests come to these places; you Sir  
Appear a person of quality, and 'tis fit  
You be accommodated: why speak you not,  
What ha' you woman? are you afraid to vent  
That which you have?  Phil. 
This is a most strange man;  
'T appoint my meat.  Host. 
The half of a cold hen Sir,  
And a boiled quarter of kid, is all i'th' house.  Inc. 
Why all's but cold; let him see it fourth,  
Cover, and give the eye some satisfaction,  
A traveller's stomach must see bread and salt,  
His belly is nearer to him, than his kindred:  
Cold hen 's a pretty meat Sir.  Phil. 
What you please;  
I am resolved t' obey.  Inc. 
So is your kid,  
With pepper, garlic, and the juice of an Orange,  
She shall with salads help it, and clean linen;  
Dispatch: what news at Court Sir?  Phil. 
Faith new tires  
Most of the Ladies have: the men old Suits,  
Only the king's fool has a new coat  
To serve you.  Inc. 
I did guess you came from thence Sir.  Phil. 
But I do know I did not.  Inc. 
I mistook Sir.  
What hear you of the Archdukes?  Phil. 
Troth your question.  Enter Hostess and Servants with Table. Inc. 
Of the French business, What?  Phil. 
As much.  Inc. 
No more?  
They say the French: O that's well: come I'll help you:  
Have you no giblets now? or a broiled rasher  
Or some such present dish t'assist?  Host. 
Not any Sir.  Inc. 
The more your fault; you ne'er should be without  
Such aids: what cottage would ha' lacked a pheasant  
At such a time as this? well, bring your hen,  
And kid forth quickly.  Phil. 
That should be my prayer  
To scape his inquisition.  Inc. 
Sir, the French,  
They say are divided 'bout their match with us,  
What think you of it.  Phil. 
As of nought to me Sir.  Inc. 
Nay it's as little to me too: but I love  
To ask after these things, to know the affections  
Of States, and Princes, now and then for bettering.  Phil. 
Of your own ignorance.  Inc. 
Yes Sir:  Phil. 
Many do so.  Inc. 
I cannot live without it: what do you hear  
Of our Indian Fleet; they say they are well returned.  Phil. 
I had no venture with 'em Sir; had you?  Enter Hostess and Servants with meat. Inc. 
Why do you ask Sir?  Phil. 
'Cause it might concern you,  
It does not me.  Inc. 
O here's your meat come.  Phil. 
Thanks,  
I welcome it at any price.  Inc. 
Some stools here,  
And bid mine Host bring Wine, I'll try your kid,  
If he be sweet: he looks well: yes, he is good;  
I'll carve you sir.  Phil. 
You use me too too princely:  
Taste, and carve too.  Inc. 
I love to do these offices.  Phil. 
I think you do: for whose sake?  Inc. 
For themselves sir,  
The very doing of them is reward.  Phil. 
'Had little faith would not believe you Sir.  Inc. 
Gossip some wine. Enter Diego with wine.  Die. 
Here 'tis: and right St Martin.  Inc. 
Measure me out a glass.  Phil. 
I love the humanity  
Used in this place:  Inc. 
Sir, I salute you here.  Phil. 
I kiss your hands Sir.  Inc. 
Good wine; it will beget an appetite:  
Fill him; and sit down, Gossip, entertain  
Your noble guest here, as becomes your title.  Die. 
Please you to like this wine Sir?  Phil. 
I dislike  
Nothing mine Host, but that I may not see  
Your concealed guest: here's to you.  Die. 
In good faith Sir,  
I wish you as well as him: would you might see him.  Inc. 
And wherefore may he not:  Die. 
'Has locked himself Sir  
Up, and has hired both the beds o' my wife  
At extraordinary rate.  Phil. 
I'll give as much  
If that will do't, for one, as he for both;  
What say you mine Host, the door once open  
I'll fling myself upon the next bed to him  
And there's an end of me till morning; noise  
I will make none.  Die. 
I wish your worship well— but  Inc. 
His honour is engaged: And my she Gossip  
Hath passed her promise, hath she not?  Die. 
Yes truly:  Inc. 
That toucheth to the credit of the house:  
Well, I will eat a little, and think: how say you sir  
Unto this brawn o'th' hen?  Phil. 
I ha' more mind  
To get this bed sir.  Inc. 
Say you so: Why then  
give't me again, and drink to me: mine Host  
Fill him his wine: thou'rt dull, and dost not praise it,  
I eat but to teach you the way Sir.  Phi. 
Sir:  
Find but the way to lodge me in this chamber  
I'll give mine Host two ducats for his bed,  
And you sir two reals: here's to you  Inc. 
Excuse me,  
I am not mercenary: Gossip pledge him for me,  
I'll think a little more; but e'en one bit  
And then talk on: you cannot interrupt me.  Die. 
This piece of wine sir cost me  Inc. 
Stay: I have found:  
This little morsel: and then: here's excellent garlic:  
Have you not a bunch of grapes now: or some Bacon  
To give the mouth a relish?  Die. 
Wife, do you hear?  Inc. 
It is no matter. Sir, give mine Host your ducats.  Die. 
How Sir?  Inc. 
Do you receive 'em: I will save  
The honesty of your house: and yours too Gossip,  
And I will lodge the Gentleman: show the Chamber.  Die. 
Good Sir do you hear.  Inc. 
Show me the Chamber.  Die. 
Pray you Sir,  
Do not disturb my guests.  Inc. 
Disturb? I hope  
The Catholic King sir, may command a lodging  
Without disturbing in his vassals house,  
For any Minister of his, employed  
In business of the State. Where is the door?  
Open the door, who are you there? within?  
In the king's name. Theodosia within.  Theod. 
What would you have?  Inc. 
Your key sir,  
And your door open: I have here command  
To lodge a Gentleman, from the Justice, sent  
Upon the king's affairs.  Theod. 
Kings and necessities  
Must be obeyed: 'the key is under the door.  Inc. 
How now sir, are you fitted? you secured?  Phi. 
Your two reals are grown a piece of eight.  Inc. 
Excuse me Sir.  Phil. 
'Twill buy a hen; and wine  
Sir, for tomorrow. Exit. Phil.  Inc. 
I do kiss your hands Sir  
Well this will bear my charge yet to the Galleys  
Where I am owing a ducat: whither this night  
By the moon's leave I'll march: for in the morning  
Early they put from Port S. Mary's. Ex. all but Diego.  Die. 
Lazaro Enter Lazaro.  
How do the horses?  Laz. 
Would you would go and see Sir,  
A— of all Jades, what a clap h'as given me:  
As sure as you live master he knew perfectly  
I cozened him on's Oats: he looked upon me  
And then he sneered, as who should say take heed sirrah:  
And when he saw our half peck, which you know  
Was but an old Court dish: lord how he stamped:  
I thought 't had been for joy, when suddenly  
He cuts me a back caper with his heels  
And takes me just o'th' crupper: down came I  
And all my ounce of Oats: Then he neighed out  
As though he had had a Mare byth' tail.  Die. 
Faith Lazaro  
We are to blame to use the poor dumb serviters  
So cruelly.  Laz. 
Yonder's this other gentleman's horse  
Keeping our Lady eve: the devil a bit  
Has got since he came in yet: there he stands  
And looks, and looks, but 'tis your pleasure sir  
He shall look lean enough: has hay before him  
But 'tis as big as hemp, and will as soon choke him,  
Unless he eat it buttered: he had four shoes  
And good ones when he came: 'tis a strange wonder  
With standing still he should cast three.  Die. 
O Lazaro  
The devils in this trade: truth never knew it  
And to the devil we shall travel Lazaro  
Unless we mend our manners: once every week  
I meet with such a knock to mollify me  
Sometimes a dozen to awake my conscience  
Yet still I sleep securely.  Laz. 
Certain Master  
We must use better dealing.  Die. 
'Faith for mine own part  
Not to give ill example to our issues,  
I could be well content to steal but two girths,  
And now and then a saddle cloth: change a bridle  
Only for exercise.  Laz. 
If we could stay there  
There were some hope on's Master: but the devil is  
We are drunk so early we mistake whole Saddles  
Sometimes a horse; and than it seems to us too  
Every poor Jade has his whole peck, and tumbles  
Up to his ears in clean straw, and every bottle  
Shows at the least a dozen; when the truth is Sir  
there's no such matter, not a smell of provender,  
Not so much straw, as would tie up a horse tail,  
Nor any thing i'th' rack, but two old cobwebs  
And so much rotten hay as had been a hen's nest.  Die. 
Well, these mistakings must be mended Lazaro,  
These apparitions, that abuse our senses,  
And make us ever apt to sweep the manger  
But put in nothing; these fancies must be forgot  
And we must pray it may be revealed to us  
Whose horse we ought in conscience to cozen,  
And how, and when: A parson's horse may suffer  
A little greasing in his teeth, 'tis wholesome;  
And keeps him in a sober shuffle: and his Saddle  
May want a stirrup, and it may be sworn  
His learning lay on one side, and so broke it:  
Has ever Oats in's cloak-bag to prevent us  
And therefore 'tis a meritorious office  
To tithe him soundly.  Laz. 
And a Grazier may  
For those are pinching puckfoysts and suspicious:  
Suffer a mist before his eyes sometimes too,  
And think he sees his horse eat half a bushel:  
When the truth is, rubbing his gums with salt,  
Till all the skin come off: he shall but mumble  
Like an old woman, that were chewing brawn,  
And drop 'em out again.  Die. 
That may do well too,  
And no doubt 'tis but venial: But good Lazaro  
Have you a care of understanding horses,  
Horses with angry heels, gentlemen's horses,  
Horses that know the world: let them have meat  
Till their teeth ache; and rubbing till their ribs  
Shine like a wench's forehead; they are devils  Laz. 
And look into our dealings: as sure as we live  
These Courtiers horses are a kind of Welsh prophets,  
Nothing can be hid from 'em: For mine own part  
The next I cozen of that kind, shall be foundered,  
And of all four too: I'll no more such compliments  
Upon my crupper.  Die. 
Steal but a little longer  
Till I am lamed too, and we'll repent together,  
It will not be above two days.  Laz. 
By that time  
I shall be well again, and all forgot Sir.  Dieg. 
Why then I'll stay for thee. Exit.   

Scaena secunda.  Enter Theodosia and Phillipo on several Beds. Theo. 
Oh,— ho-? oh— ho?  Phil. 
Ha?  Theo. 
Oh— oh? heart— heart— heart— heart?  Phil. 
What's that?  Theo. 
When wilt thou break?— break, break, break?  Phil. 
Ha?  
I would the voice were strong, or I nearer,  Theo. 
Shame, shame, eternal shame? what have I done?  Phil. 
Done?  Theo. 
And to no end: what a wild Journey  
Have I more wildly undertaken?  Phil. 
Journey?  Theo. 
How without counsel? care? reason? or fear?  Phil. 
Whither will this fit carry?  Theo. 
O my folly:  Phil. 
This is no common sickness.  Theo. 
How have I left  
All I should love, or keep? o heaven.  Phil. 
Sir.  Theo. 
Ha?  Phil. 
How do you gentle Sir?  Theo. 
Alas my fortune  Ph. 
It seems your sorrow oppresses: please your goodness  
Let me bear half Sir: a divided burden  
Is so made lighter.  Theo. 
Oh,  Phil. 
That sigh betrays  
The fullness of your grief:  Theo. 
ay, if that grief  
Had not bereft me of my understanding,  
I should have well remembered where I was,  
And in what company; and clapped a lock  
Upon this tongue for talking.  Phil. 
Worthy Sir  
Let it not add to your grief, that I have heard  
A sigh, or groan come from you: That is all Sir:  The. 
Good Sir no more: you have heard too much I fear,  
Would I had taken poppy when I spoke it.  Phil. 
It seems you have an ill belief of me  
And would have feared much more, had you spoke ought  
I could interpret. But believe it Sir  
Had I had means to look into your breast,  
And ta'en you sleeping here, that so securely  
I might have read, all that your woe would hide  
I would not have betrayed you.  Theo. 
Sir that speech  
Is very noble, and almost would tempt  
My need to trust you.  Phil. 
At your own election,  
I dare not make my faith so much suspected  
As to protest again: nor am I curious  
To know more than is fit.  Theo. 
Sir I will trust you  
But you shall promise Sir to keep your bed,  
And whatsoe'er you hear, not to importune  
More I beseech you from me.  Phil. 
Sir I will not.  Theo. 
Then I am prone to utter.  Phil. 
My faith for it.  Theo. 
If I were wise, I yet should hold my peace  
You will be noble.  Phil. 
You shall make me so  
If you'll but think me such.  Theo 
I do: then know  
You are deceived with whom you have talk so long.  
I am a most unfortunate lost woman.  Phil. 
Ha?  Theo. 
Do not stir Sir: I have here a Sword.  Phil. 
Not I sweet Lady: of what blood, or name.  Theo. 
You'll keep your faith.  Phil. 
I'll perish else.  Theo. 
Believe then  
Of birth too noble for me, so descended—  
I am ashamed, no less than I am affrighted.  Phil. 
Fear not: by all good things, I will not wrong you.  Theo. 
I am the daughter of a noble Gentleman  
Born in this part of Spain: my father's name Sir:  
But why should I abuse that reverence  
When a child's duty has forsaken me.  Phil. 
All may be mended: in fit time too: speak it  Theo. 
Alphonso, sir.  Phil. 
Alphonso? what's your own name?  Theo. 
Any base thing you can invent.  Phil. 
Deal truly.  Theo. 
They call me Theodosia  Phil. 
Ha? and love  
Is that that hath changed you thus?  Theo. 
Ye have observed me  
Too nearly Sir, 'tis that indeed: 'tis love Sir.  
And love of him (oh heavens) why should men deal thus?  
Why should they use their arts to cozen us?  
That have no cunning, but our fears about us?  
And ever that too late to; no dissembling  
Or double way but doting: too much loving?  
Why should they find new oaths, to make more wretches?  Phil. 
What may his name be?  Theo. 
Sir a name that promises  
methinks no such ill usage: Marc-antonio  
A noble neighbour's Son: Now I must desire ye  
To stay a while: else my weak eyes must answer.  Phil. 
I will:— Are ye yet ready? what is his quality?  Theo. 
His best a thief Sir: that he would be known by;  
Is, heir to Leonardo, a rich Gentleman:  
Next, of a handsome body, had heaven made him  
A mind fit to it. To this man, my fortune,  
(My more than purblind fortune) grave my faith,  
Drawn to it by as many shows of service  
And signs of truth, as ever false tongue uttered:  
Heaven pardon all.  Phil. 
'Tis well said: forward Lady.  Theo. 
Contracted Sir, and by exchange of rings  
Our souls delivered: nothing left unfinished  
But the last work, enjoying me, and Ceremony.  
For that I must confess was the first wise doubt  
I ever made: yet after all this love sir,  
All this profession of his faith; when daily  
And hourly I expected the blessed priest  
He left me like a dream, as all this story  
Had never been, nor thought of, why I know not;  
Yet I have called my conscience to confession,  
And every syllable that might offend  
I have had in shrift: yet neither love's law signior,  
Nor ty of maiden's duty, but desiring  
Have I transgressed in: left his father too,  
Nor whither he is gone, or why departed  
Can any tongue resolve me: All my hope  
(Which keeps me yet alive, and would persuade me  
I may be once more happy, and thus shapes me  
A shame to all my modest sex) is this Sir,  
I have a Brother and his old Companion,  
Student in Sallimanca, there my last hope  
If he be yet alive, and can be loving  
Is left me to recover him: For which travel  
In this Suit left at home of that dear Brothers  
Thus as you find me, without fear, or wisdom,  
I have wandered from my father, fled my friends,  
And now am only child of hope and danger:  
You are now silent Sir: this tedious story  
(That ever keeps me waking) makes you heavy:  
'Tis fit it should do so: for that, and I  
Can be but troubles.  Phil. 
No, I sleep not Lady:  
I would I could: oh heaven is this my comfort.  Theo. 
What ail you gentle Sir?  Phil. 
Oh.  Theo. 
Why do you groan so?  Phil. 
I must, I must; oh misery.  Theo. 
But now Sir  
You were my comfort: if any thing afflict ye  
Am not I fit to bear a part on't? and by your own rule.  Phil. 
No; if you could heal, as you have wounded me,  
But 'tis not in your power.  Theo. 
I fear intemperance.  Phil. 
Nay do not seek to shun me: I must see you:  
By heaven I must: hoa, there mine Host: a Candle:  
Strive not, I will not stir ye.  Theo. 
Noble Sir  
This is a breach of promise.  Phil. 
Tender Lady  
It shall be none but necessary: hoa, there,  
Some light, some light for heaven's sake.  Theo. 
will ye betray me?  
Are ye a gentleman?  Phil. 
Good woman:  Theo. 
Sir. Enter Diego with a light.  Phil. 
If I be prejudicial to you, curse me.  Dieg. 
Ye are early stirring sir.  Phil. 
Give me your Candle  
And so good morrow for a while.  Dieg. 
Good morrow Sir. Exit.  Theo. 
My Brother Don Philippo: nay Sir, kill me  
I ask no mercy Sir, for none dare know me,  
I can deserve none: As ye look upon me  
Behold in infinite these foul dishonours  
My noble father, than yourself: last all  
That bear the name of kindred, suffer in me:  
I have forgot whose child I am, whose Sister:  
Do you forget the pity tied to that:  
Let not compassion sway you: you will be then  
As foul as I, and bear the same brand with me,  
A favourer of my fault: ye have a sword sir,  
And such a cause to kill me in.  Phil. 
Rise Sister:  
I wear no sword for women: nor no anger  
While your fair chastity is yet untouched.  Theo. 
By those bright stars, it is Sir.  Phil. 
For my Sister  
I do believe ye: and so near blood has made us  
With the dear love I ever bore your virtues  
That I will be a Brother to your griefs too:  
Be comforted, 'tis no dishonour Sister  
To love, nor to love him you do: he is a gentleman  
Of as sweet hopes, as years, as many promises,  
As there be growing truths, and great ones.  Theo. 
O sir!  Phil. 
Do not despair.  Theo. 
Can ye forgive?  Phil. 
Yes Sister,  
Though this be no small error, a far greater.  Theo. 
And think me still your Sister?  Phil. 
My dear Sister.  Theo. 
And will you counsel me?  Phil. 
To your own peace too:  
Ye shall love still.  Theo. 
How good ye are?  Phil. 
My business,  
And duty to my father, which now drew me  
From Salimanca, I will lay aside  
And only be your Agent to persuade ye  
To leave both love, and him, and well retire ye.  Theo. 
Oh gentle Brother.  Phil. 
I perceive 'tis folly:  
Delays in love, more dangerous.  Theo. 
Noble Brother.  Phil. 
Fear not, I'll run your own way: and to help you,  
Love having racked your passions beyond counsel:  
I'll hazard mine own fame: whither shall we venture?  Theo. 
Alas, I know not Sir.  Phil. 
Come, 'tis bright morning  
Let's walk out, and consider: you'll keep this habit.  Theo. 
I would sir.  Phil. 
Then it shall be: what must I call ye?  
Come, do not blush: pray speak, I may spoil all else.  Theo. 
Pray call me Theodoro. Enter Diego.  Dieg. 
Are ye ready?  
The day draws on apace: once more good morrow.  Theo. 
Good morrow gentle Host: now I must thank ye:  Phil. 
Who dost thou think this is?  Die. 
Were you a wench Sir  
I think you would know before me.  Phi. 
Mine own Brother.  Diego. 
byth' Mass your noses are a kin: should I then  
Have been so barbarous to have parted Brothers?  Phi. 
You knew it then.  Diego. 
I knew 'twas necessary  
You should be both together: Instinct Signior  
Is a great matter in an Host.  Theo. 
I am satisfied. Enter Pedro.  Ped. 
Is not mine Host up yet?  Phil. 
Who's that?  Die. 
I'll see.  Phil. 
Sister, withdraw yourself.  Pedr. 
signior Philippo  Phil. 
Noble Don Pedro, where have you been this way?  Pedr 
I came from Port St Mary's, whence the Galleys  
Put this last tide, and bound for Barcelona,  
I brought mark-antony upon his way.  Phil 
Mark-Antony?  Pedr 
Who is turned Soldier  
And entertained in the new Regiment,  
For Naples.  Phil. 
Is it possible?  Pedr. 
I assure you.  Phil. 
And put they in at Barcelona?  Pedr. 
So  
One of the Masters told me.  Phil. 
Which way go you Sir?  Pedr. 
Home:  Phil. 
And I for Civil: pray you Sir, say not  
That you saw me, if you shall meet the question,  
I have some little business  Pedr. 
Were it less Sir.  
It shall not become me, to lose the caution:  
Shall we breakfast together?  Phil. 
I'll come to you Sir:  
Sister you hear this: I believe your fortune  
Begins to be propitious to you: we will hire  
Mules of mine host here: if we can himself  
To be our guide, and straight to Barcelona,  
This was as happy news, as unexpected  
Stay you, till I rid him away.  Theo. 
I will. Exeunt.    

ACT. II.  

SCAENA I.  Enter Alphonso and a Servant. Alph. 
KNock at the door.  Ser. 
'Tis open Sir.  Alph. 
That's all one  
Knock when I bid you.  Ser. 
Will not your worship enter.  Alph. 
Will not you learn more manners Sir, and do that  
Your Master bids ye; knock ye knave, or I'll knock  
Such a round peal about your pate; I enter  
Under his roof, or come to say god save ye  
To him, the Son of whose base dealings has undone me.  
Knock louder, louder yet: I'll starve, and rot first,  
This open air is every man's.  2. Ser. 
within .Come in Sir.  Enter two Servants, Rowl: Ashton. Alph. 
No, no Sir, I am none of these come in Sirs  
None of those visitants: bid your wise Master  
Come out, I have to talk unto him: go Sir  2. Ser. 
Your worship may be welcome.  Alph. 
Sir, I will not,  
I come not to be welcome: good my three ducats  
My pickled sprat a day, and no oil to't,  
And once a year a cotton coat, leave prating  
And tell your Master, I am here.  2. Ser. 
I will Sir.  
This is a strange old man. Exit.  Alph. 
I welcome to him!  
I'll be first welcome to a Pesthouse: Sirhah  
Let's have your valour now cased up, and quiet  
When an occasion calls, 'tis wisdom in ye,  
A Serving man's discretion: if you do draw  Enter Leonardo, and Don Zanchio (carried by two Servants in a chair.) 
Draw but according to your entertainment;  
Five nobles worth of fury.  Leo. 
signior Alphonso.  
I hope no discontent from my will given,  
Has made ye shun my house: I ever loved ye.  
An credit me amongst my fears 'tis greatest  
To minister offences.  Alph 
O good signior  
I know ye for Italian breed, fair tongued,  
Spare your Apologies, I care not for'em,  
As little for your love Sir; I can live  
Without your knowledge; eat mine own, and sleep  
Without dependences, or hopes upon ye.  
I come to ask my daughter.  Leo. 
Gentle Sir.  Alph. 
I am not gentle Sir, nor gentle will be  
Till I have justice, my poor child restored  
Your caper-cutting boy has run away with  
Young Signior-smooth-face, he that takes up wenches  
With smiles, and sweet behaviours, songs, and sonnets,  
Your high fed Jennet, that no hedge can hold  
They say you bred him for a Stallion.  Zanch. 
Fie signior, there be times, and terms of honour  
To argue these things in, descidements able  
To speak ye noble gentlemen, ways punctual  
And to the life of credit, ye are too rugged.  Alph. 
I am too tame Sir.  Leo. 
Will ye hear but reason?  Alph. 
No, I will hear no reason: I come not hither  
To be popped off with reason; reason then.  Zanch. 
Why Signior, in all things there must be method  
Ye choke the child of honour else, discretion,  
Do you conceive an injury?  Alph. 
What then Sir?  Zanch. 
Then follow it in fair terms, let your sword bite  
When time calls, not your tongue.  Alph. 
I know Sir  
Both when and what to do without directions,  
And where, and how, I come not to be tutored,  
My cause is no man's but mine own: you Signior  
Will ye restore my daughter?  Leo. 
Who detains her?  Alph. 
No more of these sleight shifts  Leo. 
Ye urge me Signior  
With strange unjustice: because my Son has erred  Zanch 
Mark him.  Leo. 
Out of the heat of youth: dost follow  
I must be father of his crimes.  Alph. 
I say still  
Leave off your rhetoric, and restore my daughter.  
And suddenly: bring in your rebel too,  
Mountdragon, he that mounts without commission  
That I may see him punished, and severely,  
Or by that holy heaven, I'll fire your house,  
And there's my way of honour.  Zanch. 
Pray give me leave  
Was not man made the noblest creature  Alph. 
Well Sir.  Zanch. 
Should not his mind then answer to his making,  
And to his mind his actions, if this aught to be,  
Why do we run a blind way from our worths,  
And cancel our discretions, doing those things  
To cure offences, are the most offences?  
We have rules of justice in us; to those rules  
Let us apply our angers: you can consider  
The want in others of these terminations,  
And how unfurnished they appear.  Alph. 
Hang others,  
And where the wrongs are open, hang respects,  
I come not to consider.  Leo. 
Noble Sir,  
Let us argue coolly, and consider like men.  Alph. 
Like men!  Leo. 
Ye are too sudden still.  Alph. 
Like men Sir?  Zanch 
It is fair language, and allied to honour.  Alph. 
Why, what strange beast would your grave reverence  
Make me appear? like men!  Zanch. 
Taste but that point Sir,  
And ye recover all.  Alph. 
I tell thy wisdom  
I am as much a man, and as good a man.  Leo. 
All this is granted Sir.  Alph. 
As wise a man.  Zanch. 
Ye are not tainted that way.  Alph. 
And a man  
Dares make thee no man; or at best, a base man.  Zanch. 
Fie, Fie, here wants much carriage.  Alph. 
Hang much carriage.  Leo. 
Give me good language sirrah signior.  Alph. 
Give me my daughter.  Leo. 
I am as gentle as yourself, as free born.  Zanch. 
Observe his way.  Leo. 
As much respect owed to me.  Zanch. 
This hangs together nobly.  Leo. 
And for Civil  
A great deal more it seems: go look your daughter.  Zanch. 
There ye went well off signior.  Leo. 
That rough tongue  
You understand at first: you never think Sir  
Out of your mightiness, of my loss: here I stand  
A patient anvil, to your burning angers  
Made subject to your dangers; yet my loss equal:  
Who shall bring home my son?  Alph. 
A whipping Beadle.  Leo. 
Why, is your daughter whorish?  Alph. 
Ha, thou dar'st not,  
By heaven I know thou dar'st not.  Leo. 
I dare more Sir  
If you dare be uncivil.  Alph. 
Laugh too, Pigeon.  Zanch. 
A fitter time for fame's sake: two weak Nurses  
Would laugh at this; are there no more days coming,  
No ground but this to argue on? no swords left  
Nor friends to carry this, but your own furies?  
Alas! it shows too weakly.  Alph. 
Let it show,  
I come not here for shows: laugh at me sirrah?  
I'll give ye cause to laugh.  Leo. 
Ye are as like Sir  
As any man in Spain.  Alph. 
By heaven I will,  
I will brave Leonardo.  Leo. 
Brave Alphonso,  
I will expect it then.  Zanch. 
Hold ye there both,  
These terms are noble.  Alph. 
Ye shall hear shortly from me.  Leo. 
Now discreetly.  Alph. 
Assure yourself ye shall: do ye see this sword Sir?  
He has not cast his teeth yet.  Zanch. 
Rarely carried.  Alph. 
He bites deep: most times mortal: signior  
I'll hound him at the fair and home.  Zanch. 
Still nobly.  Alph. 
And at all those that dare maintain ye.  Zanch. 
Excellent.  Leo. 
How you shall please Sir, so it be fair, though certain,  
I had rather give you reason.  Zanch. 
Fairly urged too.  Alph. 
This is no age for reason, prick your reason  
Upon your sword's point.  Zanch. 
Admirably followed.  Alph. 
And there I'll hear it: so till I please, live Sir. Exit  Leo. 
And so farewell, you're welcome.  Zanch. 
The end crowns all things  
signior, some little business past, this cause I'll argue  
And be a peace between ye, if't so please ye,  
And by the square of honour to the utmost:  
I feel the old man's mastered by much passion,  
And too high racked, which makes him overshoot all.  
His valour should direct at, and hurt those  
That stand but by as blenchers: this he must know too,  
As necessary to his judgement, doting women  
Are neither safe nor wise adventures: conceive me,  
If once their wills have wandered; nor is't then  
A time to use our rages: for why should I  
Bite at the stone, when he that throws it wrongs me?  
Do not we know that women are most wooers  
Though closest in their carriage? Do not all men know,  
Scarce all the compass of the globe can hold 'em  
If their affections be afoot? shall I then covet  
The follies of a she-fool, that by nature  
Must seek her like, by reason be a woman,  
Sink a tall ship because the sales defy me?  
No, I disdain that folly; he that ventures  
Whilst they are fit to put him on, has found out  
The everlasting motion in his scabbard.  
I doubt not to make peace: and so for this time  
My best love, and remembrance.  Leo. 
Your poor Servant. Exeunt.   

Scaena secunda.  Enter Diego Host, Philippo, and Theodosia. Phil. 
Where will our Horses meet us?  Host Dieg. 
Fear not you Sir,  
Some half mile hence, my worship's man will stay us,  
How is it with my young bloods? come, be jovial,  
Let's travel like a merry flock of wild geese,  
Every tongue talking.  Phil. 
We are very merry;  
But do you know this way Sir?  Theo. 
Is't not dangerous?  
Methinks these woody thickets should harbour knaves.  Host Die. 
I fear none but fair wenches: those are thieves  
May quickly rob me of my good conditions  
If they cry stand once: but the best is signiors  
They cannot bind my hands; for any else,  
They meet an equal knave, and there's my passport:  
I have seen fine sport in this place, had these trees tongues,  
They would tell ye pretty matters: do not you fear though  
They are not every days delights.  Phil. 
What sport Sir?  Host. 
Why to say true, the sport of all sports.  Phil. 
What was't?  Host. 
Such turning up of taffetas; and you know  
To what rare whistling tunes they go, far beyond  
A soft wind in the shrowds: such stand there,  
And down i'th' tother place; such supplications  
And subdivisions for those toys their honours,  
One, as ye are a gentleman in this bush,  
And oh sweet Sir, what mean ye? there's a bracelet,  
And use me I beseech ye like a woman,  
And her petition's heard: another scratches,  
And cries she will die first, and then swoons: but certain  
She is brought to life again, and does well after.  
Another save mine honour, oh mine honour,  
My husband serves the Duke, Sir, in his kitchen;  
l have a cold pie for ye; fie, fie, fie gentlemen,  
Will nothing satisfy ye, where's my husband?  
Another cries, do ye see Sir how they use me,  
Is there no law for these things?  Theo, 
And good mine Host,  
Do you call these fine sports?  Host. 
What should I call 'em,  
They have been so called these thousand years & upwards.  Phil. 
But what becomes o'th' men?  Host. 
They are stripped and bound,  
Like so many adam's, with fig leaves afore 'em,  
And there's their innocence.  Theo. 
Would we had known this?  
Before we reached this place.  Phil. 
Come, there's no danger,  
These are but sometimes chances.  Enter Bailiff. Host. 
Now we must through.  Theo. 
Who's that?  Host. 
Stand to it Signiors.  Phil. 
No it needs not,  
I know the face; 'tis honest.  Bayl. 
What mine Host:  
Mine everlasting honest Host.  Host. 
Mass Baily:  
Now in the name of an ill reckoning  
What make you walking this round?  Bayl. 
A— of this round,  
And of all business too, through woods, and rascals,  
They have rounded me away a dozen ducats,  
Besides a fair round cloak: Some of 'em knew me,  
Else they had cased me like a coney too,  
As they have done the rest, and I think roasted me,  
For they began to baste me soundly: my young Signiors,  
You may thank heaven, and heartily, and hourly,  
You set not out so early; ye had been smoked else  
By this true hand ye had Sirs, finely smoked,  
Had ye been women, smocked too.  Theo. 
Heaven defend us.  Bayl. 
Nay, that had been no prayer, there were those  
That run that prayer out of breath, yet failed too:  
There was a friar, now ye talk of prayer,  
With a huge bunch of beads, like a rope of onions;  
I am sure as big, that out of fear and prayer,  
In half an hour wore 'em as small as bugles,  
Yet he was flayed too.  Phil. 
At what hour was this?  Bayl. 
Some two hours since.  Theo. 
Do you think the passage sure now.  Bayl. 
Yes, a rope take 'em, as it will, and bless 'em,  
They have done for this day sure.  Phil. 
Are many riffled?  Bayl. 
At the least a dozen,  
And there left bound.  Theo. 
How came you free?  Bayl. 
A courtesy  
They use out of their rogueships, to bequeath  
To one, that when they give a sign from far  
Which is from out of danger; he may presently  
Release the rest, as I met you, I was going,  
Having the sign from yonder hill to do it.  Theo. 
Alas poor men.  Phil. 
Mine Host, pray go untie.  Host. 
Let me alone for cancelling: where are they?  Bayl. 
In every bush like black birds, you cannot miss 'em  Host. 
I need not stalk unto 'em. Exit.  Bayl. 
No, they'll stand ye,  
My busy life for yours Sir: you would wonder  
To see the several tricks, and strange behaviours  
Of the poor rascals in their miseries,  
One weeps, another laughs at him for weeping,  
A third is monstrous angry he can laugh  
And cries, go too, this is no time; he laughs still,  
A fourth exhorts to patience: him a fift man  
Curses for tameness; him a friar schools,  
All hoot the friar: here one sings a Ballad,  
And there a little Curate confutes him,  
And in this linsey woolsey way, that would make a dog  
Forget his dinner, or an old man fire  
They rub out for their ransoms: Amongst the rest,  
There is a little Boy robbed, a fine child,  
It seems a Page: I must confess my pity  
(As 'tis a hard thing in a man of my place)  
To show compassion, stirred at him; so finely  
And without noise he carries his afflictions,  
And looks as if he had but dreamed of losing.  Enter Host and Leocadia, and others as robbed. 
This boy's the glory of this robbery,  
The rest but shame the action: now ye may hear 'em.  Host. 
Come lads, 'tis holiday: hang clothes, 'tis hot,  
And sweating agues are abroad.  1. 
It seems so;  
For we have met with rare Physicians  
To cure us of that malady.  Host. 
Fine footing,  
Light and deliver: now my boys: Master friar,  
How does your holiness, bear up man; what  
A cup of neat sack now and a toast: ha, friar,  
A warm plaster to your belly Father,  
There were a blessing now.  Fryer. 
Ye say your mind Sir.  Host. 
Where my fine Boy: my pointer.  Bayl. 
there's the wonder.  Host. 
A rank whore scratch their sides till the pox follow  
For robbing thee, thou hast a thousand ways  
To rob thyself boy, dice, and a chamber devil.  Leoc. 
Ye are deceived Sir.  Host. 
And thy Master too Boy.  Phil. 
A sweet faced Boy indeed: what rogues were these?  
What barbarous brutish slaves to strip this beauty?  Theo. 
Come hither my boy: alas! he's cold, mine Host,  
We must entreat your Cloak.  Host. 
Can ye entreat it.  Phil. 
We do presume so much, you have other garments.  Host. 
Will you entreat those too?  Theo. 
Your Mule must too,  
To the next town, you say 'tis near; in pity  
You cannot see this poor Boy perish.  
I know ye have a better soul, we'll satisfy ye.  Host. 
'Tis a strange foolish trick I have, but I cannot help it,  
I am ever cozened with mine own commendations;  
It is determined then I shall be robbed too.  
To make up vantage to this dozen: here Sir,  
Heaven has provided ye a simple garment  
To set ye off: pray keep it handsomer  
Than you kept your own, and let me have it rendered,  
Brushed, and discreetly folded.  Leoc. 
I thank ye Sir.  Host. 
Who wants a doublet?  2. 
I.  Host. 
Where will you have it?  2. 
From you Sir, if you please.  Host. 
Oh, there's the point Sir.  Phil. 
My honest friends, I am sorry for your fortunes,  
But that's but poor relief; here are ten Ducats,  
And to your distribution holy Sir,  
I render 'em: and let it be your care  
To see 'em, as your wants are, well divided.  Hos. 
Plain dealing now my friends: and Father friar,  
Set me the saddle right; no wringing friar,  
Nor tithing to the Church, these are no duties;  
Scour me your conscience, if the Devil tempt ye  
Off with your cord, and swing him.  Fry. 
Ye say well Sir.  all. 
Heaven keep your goodness.  Theo. 
Peace keep you, farewell friends  Host. 
Farewell light horsemen. Exit the robbed.  Phil. 
Which way travel you Sir.  Bayl. 
To the next town.  The. 
Do you want any thing.  Bayl. 
Only discretion to travel at good hours,  
And some warm meat to moderate this matter,  
For I am most outrageous cruel hungry  Host. 
I have a stomach too such as it is  
Would pose a right good pasty, I thank heaven for't.  Bayl. 
cheese that would break the teeth of a new handsaw,  
I could endure now like an Ostrich, or salt beef  
That Cesar left in pickle.  Phil. 
Take no care,  
we'll have meat for you and enough: I th' mean time  
Keep you the horse way lest the fellow miss us,  
We'll meet ye at the end o'th' wood.  Host. 
Make haste then.  Exit. Host. & Bayl. Theo. 
My pretty Sir, till your necessities  
Be full supplied, so please you trust our friendships,  
We must not part.  Leo. 
Ye have pulled a charge upon ye,  
Yet such a one, as ever shall be thankful.  Phil. 
Ye have said enough: may I be bold to ask ye,  
What Province you were bred in? and of what parents?  Leo. 
Ye may Sir: I was born in Andoluzia,  
My name Francisco, son to Don Henriques  
De Cardinas.  Theo. 
Our noble neighbour.  Phil. 
Son to Don Henriques:  
I know the gentleman: and by your leave Sir,  
I know he has no son.  Leo. 
None of his own Sir,  
Which makes him put that right upon his brother  
Don Zanchio's children: one of which I am,  
And therefore do not much err.  Phil. 
Still ye do Sir,  
For neither has Don Zanchio any son;  
A daughter, and a rare one is heir,  
Which though I never was so blessed to see,  
Yet I have heard great good of.  Theo. 
Urge no further,  
He is ashamed, and blushes.  Phil. 
Sir,  
If it might import you to conceal yourself,  
I ask your mercy, I have been so curious:  Leo. 
Alas! I must ask yours Sir: for these lies,  
Yet they were useful ones; for by the claiming  
Such noble parents, I believed your bounties  
Would show more gracious: The plain truth is gentlemen,  
I am Don Sanchio's Steward's son, a wild boy,  
That for the fruits of his unhappiness,  
Is fain to seek the wars.  Theo. 
This is a lie too.  
If I have any ears.  Phil. 
Why?  Theo. 
Mark his language,  
And ye shall find it of too sweet a relish  
For one of such a breed: I'll pawn my hand,  
This is no boy.  Phil. 
No boy? what would you have him?  Theo. 
I know, no boy: I watched how fearfully,  
And yet how suddenly he cured his lies,  
The right wit of a woman: Now I am sure.  Phil. 
What are ye sure?  Theo. 
That 'tis no boy: I'll burn in't.  Phil. 
Now I consider better, and take council,  
Methinks he shows more sweetness in that face,  
Than his fears dare deliver.  Theo. 
No more talk on't,  
There hangs some great weight by it: soon at night  
I'll tell ye more.  Phil. 
Come Sir, whate'er you are  
With us, embrace your liberty, and our helps  
In any need you have.  Leo. 
All my poor service  
Shall be at your command Sir, and my prayers.  Phil. 
Let's walk a pace; hunger will cut their throats else. Exeunt.   

SCAENA TERTIA.  Enter Rodorigo, Mark-antonio, and a shipmaster, two Chairs set out. Rod. 
Call up the Master.  Mast. 
Here Sir. within.  Rod. 
Honest Master,  
Give order all the galleys with this tide  
Fall round, and near upon us; that the next wind  
We may weigh off together, and recover  
The Port of Barcelona, without parting.  Mast. 
Your pleasures done Sir. within.  Rod. 
Signior Marc-antonio,  
Till meat be ready, let's sit here and prepare  
Our stomachs with discourses.  Marc. 
What you please Sir.  Rod. 
Pray ye answer me to this doubt.  Marc. 
If I can Sir.  Rod. 
Why should such plants as you are, pleasures children  
That owe their blushing years to gentle objects,  
Tenderly bred, and brought up in all fullness,  
Desire the stubborn wars?  Marc. 
In those 'tis wonder,  
That make their ease their god, and nor their honour:  
But noble General, my end is other,  
Desire of knowledge Sir, and hope of tying  
Discretion to my time, which only shows me,  
And not my years, a man, and makes that more.  
Which we call handsome, the rest is but boys beauty,  
And with the boy consumed.  Rod. 
Ye argue well Sir.  Mar. 
Nor do I wear my youth, as they were breeches  
For object, but for use: my strength for danger,  
Which is the liberal part of man, not dalliance,  
The wars must be my Mistress Sir.  Rod. 
O signior,  
You'll find her a rough wench.  Mar. 
When she is won once,  
She'll show the sweeter Sir.  Rod. 
You can be pleased, though  
Sometimes to take a tamer?  Mar. 
'Tis a truth Sir,  
So she be handsome, and not ill conditioned.  Rod. 
A Soldier should not be so curious.  Mar. 
I can make shift with any for a heat Sir.  Rod. 
Nay, there you wrong your youth too: and however  
You are pleased to appear to me, which shows well Signior,  
A tougher soul than your few years can testify;  
Yet my young Sir, out of mine own experience  
When my spring was, I am able to confute ye,  
And say, y' had rather come to th' shock of eyes,  
And boldly march up to your Mistress mouth,  
Then to the Cannons.  Mar. 
That's as their lading is Sir.  Rod. 
There be Trenches  
Fitter, and warmer for your years, and safer  
Than where the bullet plays.  Mar. 
there's it I doubt Sir.  Rod. 
You'll easily find that faith: But come, be liberal,  
What kind of woman could you make best wars with?  Mar. 
They are all but heavy marches.  Rod. 
Fie Marc-antonio,  
Beauty in no more reverence?  Mar. 
In the Sex Sir,  
I honour it, and next to honour, love it,  
For there is only beauty; and that sweetness  
That was first meant for modesty: sever it  
And put it in one woman, it appears not.  
'Tis of too rare a nature, she too gross  
To mingle with it.  Rod. 
This is a mere heresy.  Marc. 
Which makes 'em ever mending; for that gloss  
That cozens us for beauty, is but bravery,  
An outward show of things well set, no more,  
For heavenly beauty, is as heaven itself Sir,  
Too excellent for object, and what is seen  
Is but the veil then, airy clouds; grant this  
It may be seen, 'tis but like stars in twinklings.  Rod. 
'Twas no small study in their Libraries  
Brought you to this experience: But what think ye  
Of that fair red and white, which we call beauty?  Mar. 
Why? 'tis our creature Sir, we give it 'em,  
Because we like those colours, else 'tis certain  
A blue face with a motley nose would do it,  
And be as great a beauty, so we loved it,  
That we cannot give, which is only beauty,  
Is a fair Mind.  Rod. 
By this rule, all our choices  
Are to no ends.  Marc. 
Except the dull end, Doing.  Rod. 
Then all to you seem equal?  Marc. 
Very true Sir,  
And that makes equal dealing: I love any  
That's worth love.  Rod. 
How long love ye signior?  Marc. 
Till I have other business.  Rod. 
Do you never  
Love steadfastly one woman?  Mar. 
'Tis a toil Sir  
Like riding in one rode perpetually,  
It offers no variety.  Rod. 
Right youth,  
He must needs make a Soldier; nor do you think  
One woman, can love one man.  Mar. 
Yes that may be,  
Though it appear not often; they are things ignorant,  
And therefore apted to that superstition  
Of doting fondness; yet of late years Signior,  
That world's well mended with 'em, fewer are found now  
That love at length, and to the right mark, all  
Stir now as the time stirs; fame and fashion  
Are ends they aim at now, and to make that love  
That wiser ages held ambition;  
They that cannot reach this, may love by Index;  
By every days surveying who best promises,  
Who has done best, who may do, and who mended  
May come to do again: who appears neatest  
Either in new stamped clothes, or courtesies,  
Done but from hand to mouth neither; nor love they these things  
Longer than new are making, nor that succession  
Beyond the next fair feather: Take the City,  
There they go to't by gold weight, no gain from 'em  
All they can work by fire and water to 'em,  
Profit is all they point at: if there be love  
'Tis showed ye by so dark a light, to bear out  
The bracks, and old stains in it, that ye may purchase  
French velvet better cheap: all loves are endless.  Rod. 
Faith, if ye have a Mistress, would she heard you.  Mar. 
'twere but the venturing of my place, or swearing  
I meant it but for argument, as Schoolmen  
Dispute high questions.  Rod. 
What a world is this  
When young men dare determine what those are?  
Age and the best experience ne'er could aim at.  Marc. 
They were thick eyed then Sir; now the print is bigger,  
And they may read their fortunes without spectacles.  Rod. 
Did you ne'er love?  Mar. 
Faith yes, once after supper,  
And the fit held till midnight.  Rod. 
Hot, or shaking.  Mar. 
To say true, both.  Rod. 
How did ye rid it?  Mar. 
Thus Sir,  
I laid my hand upon my heart, and blessed me,  
And then said over certain charms I had learned  
Against mad dogs, for love, and they are all one;  
Last thought upon a windmill, and so slept,  
And was well ever after.  Rod. 
A rare Physician,  
What would your practice gain ye?  Mar. 
The wars ended,  
I mean to use my heart, and have these fools  
Cut in the head like Cats, to save the Kingdom,  
Another Inquisition.  Rod. 
So old a Soldier.  
Out of the wars, I never knew yet practised.  Mar. 
I shall mend every day; But noble General,  
Believe this, but as this you named discourses.  Rod. 
O ye are a cunning Gamester.  Mar. 
Mirths and toys  
To x time withal, for O my troth Sir,  
I can love; I think, well too; well enough  
And think as well of women as they are,  
Pretty fantastic things, some more regardful,  
And some few worth a service: I am so honest,  
I with 'em all in heaven, and you know hard Sir  
'Twill be to get in there with their great farthingales.  Rod. 
Well Marc-antonio, I would not lose thy company  
For the best. Galley I command.  Marc. 
Faith General,  
If these discourses please ye, I shall fit ye  
Once every day. knock within.  Rod. 
Thou canst not please me better: hark, they call  
Below to Didner: ye are my  guest,  
My bosom's, so you please Sir.  Marc. 
Your poor Servant. Exeunt.   

Scena quarta.  Enter Philipo, and second Host. Host. 
Let 'em have meat enough woman, half a hen;  
There be old rotten pilchers, put 'em off too,  
'Tis but a little new anointing of 'em,  
And a strong onion, that confounds the stink.  Hostess. 
They call for more Sir.  Host. 
Knock a dozen eggs down,  
But then beware your wenches.  Hostess. 
More than this too?  Host. 
Words, words, and make 'em porridg: pop 'em up  
But they shall pay for cullises.  Hostess. 
All this is nothing;  
They call for kid and partridge.  Host. 
Well remembered,  
Where's the half Falconers dog he left?  Hostess. 
It stinks Sir,  
Past all hope that way.  Host. 
Run it o'er with garlic,  
And make a Roman dish on't.  Hostess. 
Pray ye be patient,  
And get provision in; these are fine Gentlemen,  
And liberal Gentlemen; they have unde quare  
No mangey Muleteers, nor pinching Posts  
That feed upon the parings of muskmelons  
And radishes, as big and tough as rafters:  
Will ye be stirring in this business? here's your brother  
Mine old Host of Ossuva, as wise as you are,  
That is, as knavish; if ye put a trick,  
Take heed he do not find it.  Host. 
I'll be wagging.  Hostess. 
'Tis for your own commodity: why wenches.  
Anon for sooth. within.  Hostess. 
Who makes a fire there? and who gets in water?  
Let Oliver go to the Justice, and beseech his worship  
We may have two spits going; and do you here Druce,  
Let him invite his worship, and his wife's worship,  
To the left meat tomorrow. Enter Bailiff.  Bayl. 
Where's the Kitchen?  Hostess. 
Even at the next door Signior: what old Don?  
We meet but seldom.  Bayl. 
Prithee be patient Hostess,  
And tell me where the meat is.  Hostess. 
Faith Master Baily,  
How have ye done? and how man?  Bayl. 
Good sweet Hostess,  
What shall we have to dinner?  Hostess. 
How does your woman,  
And a fine woman she is and a good woman,  
Lord, how you bear your years?  Bayl. 
Is't veal, or mutton,  
Beef, bacon, pork, kid, pheasant, or all these,  
And are they ready all?  Hostess. 
The hours that have been  
Between us two, the merry hours: Lord!  Bayl. 
Hostess,  
Dear Hostess do but hear; I am hungry.  Hostess. 
Ye are merrily disposed Sir.  Bayl. 
Monstrous hungry,  
And hungry after much meat, I have brought hither  
Right worshipful to pay the reckoning,  
Money enough too with 'em, desire enough  
To have the best meat, and of that enough too:  
Come to the point sweet wench, and so I kiss thee.  Hostess. 
Ye shall have any thing, and instantly  
Ere you can lick your ears, Sir.  Bayl. 
Portly meat,  
Bearing substantial stuff, and fit for hunger:  
I do beseech ye Hostess first, than some light garnish,  
Two pheasants in a dish, if ye have leverets,  
Rather for way of ornament, than appetite  
They may be looked upon, or larks: for fish,  
As there is no great need, so I will I not wish ye  
To serve above four dishes, but those full ones;  
Ye have no cheese of Parma?  Hostess. 
Very old Sir.  Bayl. 
The less will serve us, some ten pound,  Hostess. 
Alas Sir,  
We have not half these dainties.  Bayl. 
Peace good Hostess,  
And make us hope ye have.  Hostess. 
Ye shall have all Sir,  Bayl. 
That may be got for money.  Enter Diego the Host, and a Boy. 1. Host. Diego. 
Where's your Master?  
Bring me your Master boy: I must have liquour  
Fit for the Mermedons; no dashing now child,  
No conjurings by candle light, I know all;  
Strike me the oldest Sack, a piece that carries  
Point blank to this place boy, and batters; Hostess,  
I kiss thy hands through which many a round reckoning  
And things of moment have had motion.  Hostess. 
Still mind old Brother.  1. Host Dei. 
Set thy Seller open,  
For I must enter, and advance my colours  
I have brought the Dons indeed wench, Dons with ducats,  
And those Dons must have dainty wine, pure Bacchus  
That bleeds the life blood: what is your cure ended?  Bayl. 
We shall have meat man.  1. Host Die. 
Then we shall have wine man,  
And wine upon wine, cut and drawn with wine.  Hostess. 
Ye shall have all, and more than all.  Bayl. 
All, well then.  1. Host Die. 
Away, about your business, you with her  
For old acquaintance' sake, to stay your stomach Exit Hostess and Bailiff.  
And Boy, be you my guide ad inferos,  
For I will make a full descent in equipage.  Boy. 
I'll show you rare wine.  1. Host Die. 
Stinging gear.  Boy. 
Divine Sir.  1. Host Die. 
O divine boy, march, march my child, rare wine boy.  Boy. 
As in Spain Sir.  1. Host Die. 
Old, and strong too,  
O my fine Boy, clear too?  Boy. 
As crystal Sir, and strong as truth.  1. Host Die. 
Away boy,  
I am enamoured, and I long for Dalliance,  
Stay nowhere child, not for thy father's blessing,  
I charge thee not to save thy sister's honour,  
Nor to close thy dams eyes were she a dying,  
Till we arrive; and for thy recompense  
I will remember thee in my Will.  Boy. 
Ye have said Sir. Exeunt.    

ACT. III.  

SCAENA I.  Enter Philippo and 2. Host. Phil. 
MINE Host, is that apparel got ye spoke of?  
Ye shall have ready money.  2. Host. 
'Tis come in Sir, he has it on Sir,  
And I think't will be fit, and o' my credit  
'Twas never worn but once Sir, and for necessity  
Pawned to the man I told ye of.  Phil. 
Pray bargain for it,  
And I will be the paymaster.  2. Host. 
I will Sir.  Phil. 
And let our meat be ready when you please,  
I mean as soon.  2. Host. 
It shall be presently.  Phil. 
How far stands Barcelona?  2. Host. 
But two leagues off Sir,  
You may be there by three o'clock.  Phil. 
I am glad on't. Exeunt.   

Scena secunda.  Enter Theodosia, and Leocadia. Theo. 
Signior Francisco why I draw you hither  
To this remote place, marvel not, for trust me  
My innocence yet never knew ill dealing,  
And as ye have a noble temper, start not  
Into offence, at any thing my knowledge,  
And for your special good, would be informed of,  
Nor think me vainly curious.  Leoc. 
Worthy Sir,  
The courtesies you and your noble Brother  
Even then when few men find the way to do 'em,  
I mean in want, so freely showered upon me,  
So truly and so timely ministered,  
Must if I should suspect those minds that made 'em,  
Either proclaim me an unworthy taker,  
Or worse, a base believer; Speak your mind Sir  
Freely, and what you please, I am your Servant.  The. 
Then my young Sir, know since our first acquaintance  
Induced by circumstances that deceive not  
To clear some doubts I have; nay blush not Signior,  
I have beheld ye narrowly; more blushes!  
Sir, ye give me so much light, I find ye  
A thing confessed already; yet more blushes?  
You would ill cover an offence might sink ye  
That cannot hide yourself; why do ye shake so?  
I mean no trouble to ye; this fair hand  
Was never made for hardness, nor those eyes.  
Come do not hide 'em, for rough objects, hark ye,  
Ye have betrayed yourself, that sigh confirms me;  
another? and a third to? than I see  
These Boys clothes do but pinch ye, come be liberal,  
Ye have found a friend that has found you, disguise not  
That loaden soul that labours to be open:  
Now you must weep, I know it, for I see  
Your eyes down laden to the lids, another  
Manifest token that my doubts are perfect;  
Yet I have found a greater; till me this  
Why were these holes left open, there was an error,  
A foul one my Francisco, have I caught ye?  
O pretty Sir, the custom of our Country  
Allows men none in this place: Now the shower comes.  Leoc. 
O Signior Theodoro.  Theo. 
This sorrow shows so sweetly  
I cannot choose but keep it company:  
Take truce and speak Sir: and I charge your goodness  
by all those perfect hopes that point at virtue  
By that remembrance these fair tears are shed for,  
If any sad misfortune have thus formed ye,  
That either care or counsel may redeem,  
Pain, purse, or any thing within the power  
And honour of free Gentlemen, reveal it,  
And have our labours.  Leoc. 
I have found ye noble  
And ye shall find me true; your doubts are certain,  
Nor dare I more dissemble; I am a woman,  
The great example of a wretched woman;  
Here you must give me leave to show my Sex;  
And now to make ye know how much your credit  
Has won upon my soul, so it please your patience,  
I'll tell you my unfortunate sad story.  Theo. 
Sit down and say on Lady.  Leoc. 
I am born Sir  
Of good and honest parents, rich, and noble,  
And not to lie, the daughter of Don Zanchio,  
If my unhappy fortune have not lost me:  
My name called Leocadia, even the same  
Your worthy brother did the special honour  
To name for beautiful; and without pride  
I have been often made believe so Signior;  
But that's impertinent: Now to my sorrows;  
Not far from us a Gentleman of worth,  
A neighbour and a noble visitor,  
Had his abode; who often met my Father  
In gentle sports of chase, and river hawking,  
In course and riding, and with him often brought  
A Son of his, a young and hopeful Gentleman,  
Nobly trained up, in years fit for affection,  
A sprightly man, of understanding excellent,  
Of speech, and civil 'haviour, no less powerful;  
And of all parts, else my eyes lied, abundant:  
We grew acquainted, and from that acquaintance  
Nearer into affection; from affection  
Into belief.  Theo. 
Well.  Leoc. 
Then we durst kiss.  Theo. 
Go forward.  Leoc. 
But O man, man, unconstant, careless man,  
O subtle man, how many are thy mischiefs?  
O Marc-antonio, I may curse those kisses.  Theo. 
What did you call him Lady?  Leoc. 
Marc-antonio,  
The name to me of misery.  Theo. 
Pray forward.  Leoc. 
From these we bred desires Sir: but lose me heaven  
If mine were lustful.  Theo. 
I believe.  Leoc. 
This nearness  
Made him importunate: When to save mine honour  
Love having full possession of my powers,  
I got a contract from him.  Theo. 
Sealed?  Leoc. 
And sworn too:  
Which since for some offence heaven laid upon me  
I lost among my moneys in the robbery,  
The loss that makes me poorest: this won from him  
Fool that I was, and too too credulous,  
I pointed him a by-way to my chamber  
The next night at an hour.  Theo. 
Pray stay there Lady:  
And when the night came, came he, kept he touch with ye?  
Be not so shamefast: had he both your wishes?  
Tell me, and tell me true, did he enjoy ye,  
Were ye in one another's arms, a-bed? the Contract  
Confirmed in full joys there? did he lie with ye?  
Answer to that; ha? did your father know this,  
The good old man, or kindred privy to't?  
And had ye their consents? did that night's promise  
Make ye a Mother?  Leoc. 
Why do you ask so nearly?  
Good Sir, does it concern you any thing?  Theo. 
No Lady,  
Only the pity why you should be used so,  
A little stirs me, but did he keep his promise?  Leoc. 
No, no Signior,  
Alas he never came nor never meant it,  
My love was fooled, time numbered to no end,  
My expectation slouted, and guess you Sir,  
What dor unto a doting Maid this was,  
What a base breaking off.  Theo. 
All's well then Lady;  
Go forward in your Story.  Leoc. 
Not only failed Sir  
Which is a curse in love, and may he find it  
When his affections are full winged, and ready  
To stoop upon the quarry, then when all  
His full hopes are in's arms: not only thus Sir  
But more injurious, faithless, treacherous,  
Within two days fame gave him far removed  
With a new love, which much against my conscience  
But more against my cause, which is my hell  
I must confess a fair one, a right fair one,  
Indeed of admirable sweetness, Daughter  
Unto another of our noble neighbours  
The thief called Theodosia; whose perfections  
I am bound to ban for ever, curse to wrinkles,  
As heaven I hope will make 'em soon; and aches,  
For they have robbed me poor unhappy wench  
Of all, of all Sir, all that was my glory  
And left me nothing but these tears, and travel:  
Upon this certain news, I quit my Father  
And if you be not milder in construction  
I fear mine honour too; and like a Page  
Stole to Ossuna: from that place to Civil,  
From thence to Barcelona I was travelling  
When you overtook my misery, in hope to hear of  
Galleys bound up for Italy; for never  
Will I leave off the search of this bad man  
This filcher of affections, this love Pedlar,  
Nor shall my curses cease to blast her beauties  
And make her name as wandering as her nature  
Till standing face to face before their lusts  
I call heavens justice down.  Theo. 
This shows too angry  
Nor can it be her fault she is beloved,  
If I give meat, must they that eat it surfeit?  Leoc. 
She loves again Sir, there's the mischief of it  
And in despite of me to drown my blessings  
Which she shall dearly know.  Theo. 
Ye are too violent.  Leoc. 
She has Devils in her eyes, to whose devotion  
He offers all his service.  Theo. 
Who can say  
But she may be forsaken too? he that once wanders  
From such a perfect sweetness, as you promise  
Has he not still the same rule to deceive?  Leoc. 
No, no they are together, love together  
Past all deceit of that side; sleep together,  
Live, and delight together, and such deceit  
Give me in a wild desert.  Theo. 
By your leave Lady  
I see no honour in this cunning.  Leoc. 
Honour?  
True, none of her part, honour, she deserves none,  
'Tis ceased with wandering Ladies such as she is,  
So bold and impudent.  Theo. 
I could be angry  
Extremely angry now beyond my nature  
And 'twere not for my pity: what a man  
is this to do these wrongs: believe me Lady  
I know the maid, and know she is not with him.  Leoc. 
I would you knew she were in heaven.  Theo. 
And so well know her  
That l think you are cozened.  Leoc. 
So I say Sir.  Theo. 
I mean in her behaviour  
For trust my faith so much I dare adventure for her credit  
She never yet delighted to do wrong:  Leoc. 
How can she then delight in him; dare she think  
Be what she will, as excellent as Angels  
My love so fond, my wishes so indulgent  
That I must take her prunings; stoop at that  
She has tired upon: No Sir, I hold my beauty  
Wash but these sorrows from it; of a sparkle  
As right and rich as hers, my means as equal,  
My youth as much unblown: and for our worths  
And weight of virtue.  Theo. 
Do not task her so far.  Leo. 
By heaven she is cork, and clouds, light, light sir, vapour  
But I shall find her out, with all her witchcrafts,  
Her paintings, and her pouncings: for 'tis art  
And only art preserves her, and mere spells  
That work upon his powers: let her but show me  
A ruined cheek like mine, that holds his colour  
And writes but sixteen years in spite of sorrows  
An unbathed body, smiles, that give but shadows  
And wrinkle not the face: besides she is little  
A demi dame that, that makes no object.  Theo. 
Nay,  
Than I must say you err: for credit me  
I think she is taller than yourself.  Leoc. 
Why let her  
It is not that shall mate me: I but ask  
My hands may reach unto her.  Theo. 
Gentle Lady  
'Tis now ill time of further argument,  
For I perceive your anger void of council,  
Which I could wish more temperate.  Leoc. 
Pray forgive me  
If I have spoken uncivilly: they that look on  
See more than we that play: and I beseech ye  
Impute it loves offence, not mine; whose torments,  
If you have ever loved, and found my crosses  
You must confess are seldom tied to patience,  
Yet I could wish I had said less.  Theo. 
No harm then;  
Ye have made a full amends; our Company  
You may command, so please you in your travels  
With all our faith and furtherance; let it be so.  Leoc. 
Ye make too great an offer.  Theo. 
Then it shall be  
Go in and rest yourself, our wholesome diet  
Will be made ready straight: But hark ye Lady  
One thing I must entreat, your leave, and sufferance  
That these things may be open to my Brother  
For more respect and honour.  Leoc. 
Do your pleasure.  Theo. 
And do not change this habit by no means  
Unless ye change yourself.  Leoc. 
Which must not yet be.  Theo. 
It carries ye concealed and safe.  Leoc. 
I am counselled. Exit.  Enter Philippo. Phil. 
What's done?  Theo. 
Why all we doubted; 'tis a woman,  
And of a noble strain too, guess.  Phil. 
I cannot.  Theo. 
You have heard often of her.  Phil. 
Stay I think not.  Theo. 
Indeed ye have; 'tis the fair Leocadia  
Daughter unto Don Zanchio, our noble neighbour.  Phil. 
Nay?  Theo. 
'Tis she Sir o' my credit.  Phil. 
Leocadia,  
Pish Leocadia, it must not be.  Theo. 
It must be, or be nothing.  Phil. 
Pray give me leave to wonder, Leocadia?  Theo. 
The very same.  Phil. 
The damsel Leocadia  
I guessed it was a woman, and a fair one  
I see it through her shape, transparent plain  
But that it should be she; tell me directly.  Theo. 
By heavens 'tis she.  Phil. 
By heaven then 'tis a sweet one.  Theo. 
That's granted too.  Phil. 
But hark ye, hark ye Sister,  
How came she this disguised?  Theo. 
I'll tell you that too  
As I came on the selfsame ground, so used too.  Phil. 
By the same man?  Theo. 
The same too.  Phil. 
As I live  
You lovers have fine fancies,  
Wondrous fine ones.  Theo. 
Pray heaven you never make one.  Phil. 
Faith I know not,  
But in that mind I am, I had rather cobble,  
'Tis a more Christian trade: pray tell me one thing  
Are not you two now monstrous jealous  
Of one another?  Theo. 
She is much of me  
And has railed at me most unmercifully  
And to my face, and o' my conscience  
Had she but known me, either she or I  
Or both, had parted with strange faces  
She was in such a fury.  Phil. 
Leocadia?  
does she speak handsomely?  Theo. 
Wondrous well Sir  
And all she does becomes her, even her anger.  Phil. 
How seemed she when you found her?  Theo. 
Had you seen  
How sweetly fearful her pretty self  
Betrayed herself, how neat her sorrow showed,  
And in what handsome phrase she put her story,  
And as occasion stirred her how she started  
Though roughly, yet most aptly into anger  
You would have wondered.  Phil. 
does she know ye?  Theo. 
No.  
Nor must not by no means.  Phil. 
How stands your difference?  Theo. 
I'll tell ye that some fitter time, but trust me  
My Marckantonio has too much to answer.  Phil. 
May I take knowledge of her?  Theo. 
Yes she is willing.  Phil. 
Pray use her as she is, with all respects then,  
For she is a woman of a noble breeding.  Theo. 
Ye shall not find me wanting.  Phil. 
Which way bears she?  Theo. 
Our way, and to our end.  Phil. 
I am glad on't; hark ye,  
She keeps her shape? Enter Leocadia.  Theo. 
Yes, and I think by this time  
Has mewed her old.  Phil. 
She is here: by heaven a rare one,  
An admirable sweet one, what an eye  
Of what a full command she bears, how gracious  
All her aspect shows; bless me from a favour  
I am not well o'th' sudden.  Leoc. 
Noble friends  
Your meat and all my service waits upon ye.  Phil. 
Ye teach us manners Lady; all which service  
Must now be mine to you, and all to poor too;  
Blush not, we know ye; for by all our faiths  
With us your honour is in sanctuary  
And ever shall be.  Leoc. 
I do well believe it,  
Will ye walk nearer Sir. Exit.  Theo 
She shows still fairer,  
Younger in every change, and clearer, neater;  
I know not, I may fool myself, and finely  
Nourish a wolf to eat my heart out; Certain  
As she appears now, she appears a wonder,  
A thing amazes me; what would she do then  
In woman's helps, in ornaments apt for her  
And deckings to her delicacy? without all doubt  
She would be held a miracle; nor can I think  
He has forsaken her: Say what she please,  
I know his curious eye, or say he had,  
Put case he could be so boy-blind and foolish,  
Yet still I fear she keeps the Contract with her  
Not stolen as she affirms, nor lost by negligence,  
She would lose herself first, 'tis her life, and there  
All my hopes are dispatched; O noble love  
That thou couldst be without this jealousy,  
Without this passion of the heart, how heavenly  
Would thou appear upon us? Come what may come  
I'll see the end on't: and since chance has cast her  
Naked into my refuge, all I can  
She freely shall command, except the man. Exit.   

SCAENA TERTIA.  Enter Leonardo, and Don Pedro. Leon. 
Don Pedro, do you think assuredly  
The Galleys will come round to Barcelona  
Within these two days?  Ped. 
Without doubt.  Leo. 
And think ye  
He will be with 'em certainly?  Ped. 
He is sir  
I saw him at their setting off.  Leo. 
Must they needs  
Touch there for water as you say?  Ped. 
They must sir  
And for fresh meat too: few or none go by it  
Beside so great a Fleet must needs want trimming  
If they have met with foul seas, no harbour  
On this side, Spain, is able without danger  
To moor 'em, but that haven.  Leo. 
Are the wars  
His only end?  Ped. 
So he professes.  Leo. 
Bears he  
Any command amongst 'em?  Ped. 
Good regard  
With all; which quickly will prefer him.  Leo. 
Pray Sir tell me,  
And as you are a gentleman be liberal.  Ped. 
I will Sir, and most true.  Leo. 
Who saw ye with him?  Ped. 
None but things like himself; young soldiers  
And gentlemen desirous to seek honour.  Leo. 
Was there no woman there, nor, none disguised  
That might be thought a woman in his language?  
Did he not let slip something of suspicion  
Touching that wanton way.  Ped. 
Believe me Sir  
I neither saw, nor could suspect that face  
That might be doubted woman's, yet I am sure  
Aboard him I see all that passed, and 'tis impossible  
Among so many high set bloods there should be  
A woman, let her close herself within a cockle,  
But they would open her, he must not love  
Within that place alone, and therefore surely  
He would not be so foolish, had he any,  
To trust her there; for his discourse, 'twas ever  
About his business, war, or mirth to make us  
Relish 'a Can of wine well; when he spoke private  
'T was only the remembrance of his service,  
And hope of your good prayers for his health Sir,  
And so I gave him to the seas.  Leo. 
I thank ye,  
And now am satisfied, and to prevent  
Suspicions that may nourish dangers Signior,  
For I have told you how the mad Alphenso  
Chafes like a Stag i'th' toil, and bends his fury  
'Gainst all, but his own ignorance; I am determined  
For peace' sake and the preservation  
Of my yet untouched honour, and his cure  
myself to seek him there, and bring him back  
As testimony of an unsought injury  
By either of our actions; That the world  
And he if he have reason, may see plainly  
Opinion is no perfect guide; nor all fames  
Founders of truths: In the mean time this courtesy  
I must entreat of you Sir, Be myself here  
And as myself command my family.  Ped. 
Ye lay too much trust on me.  Leo. 
'Tis my love Sir,  
I will not be long from ye; if this question  
Chance to be called upon ere my return  
I leave your care to answer; So farewell Sir.  Ped. 
Ye take a wise way; All my best endeavours  
Shall labour in your absence; peace go with ye. Exit Leo.  
A noble honest gentleman, free hearted  
And of an open faith, much loving, and much loved,  
And father of that goodness only malice  
Can truly stir against; what dare befall  
Till his return I'll answer. Exit Ped.  Enter Alphonso, and Servant. Alph. 
Walk off Sirrah  
But keep yourself within my call?  Serv. 
I will Sir.  Alp. 
And stir my horse for taking cold: within there,  
Hoa people; you that dwell there, my brave Signior  
What are ye all asleep? is't that time with ye?  
I'll ring a little louder.  Enter Pedro. Ped. 
Sir who seek ye?  Alph. 
Not you Sir; Where's your Master?  Ped. 
I serve no man  
In way of pay sir.  Alph. 
Where's the man o'th' house then?  Ped. 
What would you have with him Sir?  Alph. 
Do you stand here Sir  
To ask men questions when they come?  Ped. 
I would sir  
Being his friend, and hearing such alarms  
Know how men come to visit him.  Alph. 
Ye shall sir,  
Pray tell his mightiness here is a gentleman  
By name Alphonso, would entreat his conference  
About affairs of state sir, are ye answered?  Enter Sanchio carried. Ped. 
I must be sir.  Sanch. 
Stay, set me down, stay Signior,  
You must stay, and ye shall stay.  Alph. 
Meaning me sir?  Sanch. 
Yes you Sir, you I mean, I mean you.  Alph. 
Well Sir,  
Why should I stay?  Sanch. 
There's reason.  Alph. 
Reason Sir?  Sanch. 
I reason sir  
My wrong is greatest, and I will be served first,  
Call out the man of fame?  Alph. 
How served sir?  Sanch. 
Thus sir.  Alph. 
But not before me.  Sanch. 
Before all the world sir  
As my case stands.  Alph. 
I have lost a daughter sir.  Sanch. 
I have lost another worth five score of her sir.  Alph. 
Ye must not tell me so.  Sanch. 
I have, and hark ye?  
Make it up five score more: Call out the fellow,  
And stand you by sir.  Ped. 
This is the mad morris.  Alph. 
And I stand by?  Sanch. 
I say stand by, and do it.  Alph. 
Stand by among thy lungs.  Sanch. 
Turn presently  
And say thy prayers, thou art dead.  Alph. 
I scorn thee  
And scorn to say my prayers more than thou dost,  
Mine is the most wrong, and my daughter dearest  
And mine shall first be righted.  Sanch. 
Shall be righted.  Ped. 
A third may live I see, pray hear me gentlemen.  Sanch. 
shallbe.  Alph. 
ay, shall be righted.  Sanch. 
Now?  Alph. 
Now.  Sanch. 
Instantly.  Alph. 
Before I stir.  Sanch. 
Before me.  Alph. 
Before any.  Sanch. 
Dost thou consider what thou sayst? hast thou friends here  
Able to quench my anger, or persuade me  
After I have beaten thee into one main bruist  
And made thee spend thy state in rotten apples,  
Thou canst at length be quiet, shall I kill thee  
Divide thee like a rotten Pompion,  
And leave thee stinking to posterity,  
there's not the least blow I shall give; but does this  
Urge me no further: I am first.  Alph. 
I'll hang first.  
No goodman glory, 'tis not your bravadoes,  
Your punctual honour, nor soldadoship.  Sanch. 
Set me a little nearer.  Alph. 
Let him sally.  S. 
Lined with your quirks of carriage and discretion  
Can blow me off my purpose. where's your credit  
With all your school points now? your decent arguing  
And apt time for performing: where are these toys,  
These wise ways, and most honourable courses,  
To take revenge? how dar'st thou talk of killing,  
Or think of drawing any thing but squirts  
When lechery has dry foundered thee?  Sanch. 
nearer yet,  
That I may spit him down: thou look'st like a man.  Ped. 
I would be thought so Sir.  Sanch. 
Prithee do but take me,  
And fling me upon that Puppy.  Alph. 
Do for heaven's sake,  
And see but how I'll hug him.  Sanch. 
Yet take warning.  Ped. 
Faith gentlemen, this is a needless quarrel.  Sanch. 
And do you desire to make one?  Ped. 
As a friend Sir,  
To tell you all this anger is but lost Sir,  
For Leonardo is from home.  Alph. 
No, no Sir.  Ped. 
Indeed he is.  Sanch. 
Where dare he be, but here Sir,  
When men are wronged, and come for satisfactions.  Ped. 
It seems he has done none Sir, for his business  
Clear of those cares, hath carried him for sometime  
To Barcelona; if he had been guilty,  
I know he would have stayed, and cleared all difference  
Either by free confession, or his sword.  Sanch. 
This must not be.  Ped. 
Sure, as I live, it is Sir.  Alph. 
Sure, as we all live,  
He's run away for ever: Barcelona,  
Why? 'tis the key for Italy, from whence  
He stole first hither.  Sanch. 
And having found his knaveries  
Too gross to be forgiven, and too open,  
He has found the same way back again: I believe too  
The good grass gentleman, for his own ease,  
Has taken one o'th' Pillows: Is not his stuff sold.  Alph. 
I fear his worship's shoes too; to escape us,  
I do not think he has a dish within doors,  
A louse left of his lineage.  Ped. 
Ye are too wide Sir.  Alph. 
Or one poor wooden spoon,  Ped. 
Come in and see Sir.  Alph. 
I'll see his house on fire first.  Ped. 
Then be pleased Sir  
To give better censure.  Sanch. 
I will after him,  
And search him like concealed land; but I'll have him,  
And though I find him in his shrift, I'll kill him.  Alph. 
I'll bear ye company.  Sanch. 
Pray have a care then,  
A most especial care, indeed a fear,  
Ye do not anger me.  Alph. 
I will observe ye,  
And if I light upon him handsomely.  Sanch. 
Kill but a piece of him, leave some Alphonso  
For your poor friends.  Ped. 
I fear him not for all this.  Alph. 
Shall we first go home,  
For it may prove a voyage, and dispose  
Of things there; heaven knows what may follow.  Sanch. 
No,  
I'll kill him in this shirt I have on: let things  
Govern themselves, I am master of my honour  
At this time, and no more; let wife, and land,  
Lie lay till I return.  Alph. 
I say amen to't:  
But what care for our moneys?  Sanch. 
I will not spend  
Above three shillings, till his head be here,  
four is too great a sum for all his fortunes.  
Come take me up instantly.  Alph. 
Farewell to you Sir,  
And if your friend be in a featherbed,  
Sowed up to shroud his fears, tell him 'tis folly,  
For no course but his voluntary hanging  
Can get our pardons. Exeunt.  Ped. 
These I think would be  
Offence enough, if their own indiscretions  
Would suffer 'em: two of the old seditions,  
When they want enemies, they are their own foes:  
Were they a little wiser, I should doubt 'em:  
Till when I'll ne'er break sleep, nor suffer hunger  
For any harm he shall receive: For 'tis as easy  
If he be guilty, to turn these two old men  
Upon their own throats, and look on, and live still.  
As 'tis to tell five pound: a great deal sooner,  
And so I'll to my meat, and then to hawking. Exit.    

ACT. IV.  

SCAENA I.  Enter Mark-antonio, and a Gentleman. Marc. 
Sir, this is compliment; I pray you leave me.  Gent. 
Sir, is it not?  Marc. 
Why? I would only see the Town.  Gent. 
And only that I come to show you.  Marc. 
Which I can see without you.  Gen. 
So you may  
Plainly, not safely: For such difference  
As you have seen betwixt the sea and earth  
When waves rise high, and land would beat 'em back  
As fearful of Invasion; such we find  
When we land here at Barcelona.  Marc. 
Sir.  Gent. 
Besides our General of the Galleys, fearing  
Your hasty nature, charged me not return  
Without you safe.  Marc. 
O Sir, that Rodorigo  
Is noble, and he does mistake my temper.  
There is not in the world, a mind less apt  
To conceive wrongs, or do 'em; has he seen me  
In all this voyage, in the which he pleases  Enter Eugenia, with divers Attendants. 
To call me friend, let slip a hasty word?  
'Slight Sir: yonder is a Lady veiled,  
For properness, beyond comparison,  
And sure her face is like the rest: we'll see't.  Gent. 
Why? you are hasty Sir already: know you  
What 'tis you go about.  Marc. 
Yes, I would see  
The woman's face.  Gent. 
By heaven you shall not do't: Iob. Eacon ready to shool off a Pistol.  
You do not know the custom of the place:  
To draw that curtain here, though she were mean,  
Is mortal.  Marc. 
Is it? earth must come to earth  
At last, and by my troth, I'll try it Sir.  Gent. 
Then I must hold you fast. By all the faith  
That can be placed in man, 'tis an attempt  
More dangerous than death: 'tis death and shame:  
I know the Lady well.  Marc. 
Is she a Lady?  
I shall the more desire to see her Sir.  Gent. 
She is Alanso's wife, the Governor,  
A noble gentleman.  Marc. 
Then let me go,  
If I can win her, you and I will govern  
This Town Sir, fear it not, and we will alter  
These barbarous customs then; for every Lady  
Shall be seen daily, and seen over too.  Gent. 
Come, do not jest, nor let your passions bear you  
To such wild enterprises: hold you still,  
For as I have a soul, you shall not do't.  Rod. 
She is a Lady of unblemished fame, above.  
And here to offer that affront, were base:  
Hold on your way, and we will see the Town,  
And overlook the Ladies.  Marc. 
I am schooled,  
And promise you I will: But good Sir, see,  
She will pass by us now; I hope I may  
Salute her thus far off.  Gent. 
'S foot, are you mad?  
'Twill be as ill as th'other.  1. Attend. 
What's the matter?  
What would that fellow have?  Gent. 
Good Sir forbear,  1. Atte. 
It seems you are new landed: would you beg  
Any thing here?  Marc. 
Yes Sir, all happiness  
To that fair Lady, as I hope.  Gent. 
Marc-antonio.  Marc. 
Her face, which needs no hiding: I would beg  
A sight of.  Gent. 
Now go on, for 'tis too late  
To keep this from a tumult.  1. Attend. 
Sirrah, you  
Shall see a fitter object for your eyes,  
Than a fair lady's face.  Eug. 
For heaven's sake, raise not  
A quarrel in the streets for me.  1. Attend. 
Slip in then;  
This is your door.  Eug. 
Will you needs quarrel then?  1. Attend. 
We must, or suffer  
This outrage: is't not all your minds sirs, speak?  all. 
Yes.  Eug. 
Then I do beseech ye, let my Lord  Enter three or four Soldiers. 
Not think the quarrel about me; for 'tis not. Exit.  Gent. 
See, haply some of our Galley Soldiers  
Are come ashore.  1. Attend. 
Come on Sir, you shall see  
Faces enough.  Gent. 
Some one of you call to  Enter certain Townsmen. 
Our General, the whole roar of the Town  
Comes in upon us.  Marc. 
I have seen Sir better  
Perhaps, then that was covered; and will yet  Enter Philippo, Theodosia, and Leocadia. 
See that, or spoil yours. fight.  Phil. 
On: why start you back?  Theo. 
Alas Sir, they are fighting.  Leoc. 
Let's begone,  
See, see, a handsome man struck down.  Gent. 
Ho General,  
Look out, Antonio is in distress.  Enter Rodorigo above. Theo. 
Antonio?  Leoc. 
Antonio! 'tis he.  Rod. within. 
Ho, Governor make a shot into the Town,  
I'll part you: bring away Antonio a shot.  
Into my cabin. Exit Attendants and Townsmen.  Gent. 
I will do that office.  
I fear It is the last, that I shall do him.  Exit Soldiers and Gentlemen with Marckantonio. Theo. 
The last, why will he die?  Leoc. 
Since I have found him: happiness leave me,  
When I leave him. Exit.  Phil. 
Why Theodosia?  
My Sister; wake: alas, I grieved but now  
To see the streets so full; and now I grieve  
To see 'em jest so empty I could wish,  
Tumult himself were here, that yet at least  
Amongst the band, I might espy some face  
So pale and fearful, that would willingly  
Embrace an errand for a Cordial,  
Or Aquavitae, or a cup of sack,  
Or a Physician. But to talk of these  
She breathes: stand up, O Theodosia,  
Speak but as thou wert wont, give but a sigh,  
Which is but the most unhappy piece of life,  
And I will ever after worship and build  
Apply myself to grief; prepare and build  
Altars to sorrow.  Theo. 
O Philippo, help me.  Phil. 
I do; these are my arms; Philippo's arms,  
Thy Brother's arms that hola thee up.  Theo. 
You help me  
To life: but I would see Antonio  
That's dead.  Phil. 
Thou shalt see any thing; how dost thou?  Theo. 
Better, I thank you.  Phil. 
Why that's well: call up  
Thy senses, and uncloud thy covered spirits.  
How now?  Theo. 
Recovered: but Antonio,  
Where is he?  Phil. 
We will find him: art thou well?  Theo. 
Perfectly well, saving the miss of him;  
And I do charge you here, by our alliance,  
And by the love which would have been betwixt us,  
Knew we no kindred; by that killing fear,  
Mingled with twenty thousand hopes and doubts,  
Which you may think, placed in a lover's heart,  
And in a virgin's too, when she wants help,  
To grant me your assistance, to find out  
This man alive, or dead; and I will pay you  
In service, tears, or prayers, a world of wealth:  
But other treasure, I have none: alas!  
You men have strong hearts; but we feeble maids  
Have tender eyes, which only given be  
To blind themselves, crying for what they see.  Phil. 
Why dost thou charge me thus? have I been found  
Slow to perform, what I could but imagine  
Thy wishes were; have I at any time  
Tendered a business of mine own, beyond  
A vanity of thine? have I not been  
As if I were a senseless creature, made  
To serve thee without power of questioning,  
If so, why fear'st thou?  Theo. 
I am satisfied.  Phil. 
Come, then let's go; where's Leocadia?  Theo. 
I know not Sir.  Phil. 
where's Leocadia?  Theo. 
I do not know.  Phil. 
Leocadia,  
This Tumult made the streets as dead as night,  
A man may talk as freely: what's become  
Of Leocadia?  Theo. 
She's run away.  Phil. 
Begone, and let us never more behold  
Each other's face, till we may both together  
Fasten our eyes on her: accursed be  
Those tender cozening names of charity,  
And natural affection, they have lost  
Me only by observing them, what cost  
Travel, and fruitless wishes may in vain  
Search through the world, but never find again.  Theo. 
Good Sir be patient, I have done no fault  
Worthy this banishment.  Phil. 
Yes, Leocadia,  
The Lady so distressed, who was content  
To lay her story, and to lay her heart  
As open as her story to yourself,  
Who was content, that I should know her Sex,  
Before dissembled, and to put herself  
Into my conduct, when I undertook  
Safely to guard, is in this Tumult lost.  Theo. 
And can I help it Sir?  Phil. 
No, would thou couldst,  
You might have done, but for that scale religion  
You woman bear to swoonings, you do pick  
Your times to faint, when somebody is by:  
Bound or by nature, or by love, or service  
To raise you from that well dissembled death:  
Inform me but of one that has been found  
Dead in her private chamber by herself,  
Where sickness would no more forbear, than here,  
And I will quit the rest for her.  Theo. 
I know not  
What they may do, and how they may dissemble;  
But by my troth, I did not.  Phil. 
By my troth,  
Would I had tried; would I had let thee lain,  
And followed her.  Theo. 
I would you had done so  
Rather, then been so angry: where's Antonio?  Phil. 
Why dost thou vex me with these questions?  
I'll tell thee where, he's carried to the Galleys,  
There to be chained, and row, and beat, and row  
With knotted ropes, and pizzles; if he swoon,  
He has a dotes of biscuit.  Theo. 
I am glad  
He is alive.  Phil. 
Was ever man thus troubled,  
Tell me where Leocadia is?  Theo. 
Good brother be not so hasty, and I think I can:  
You found no error in me, when I first  
Told you she was a woman, and believe me  
Something I have found out, which makes me think,  
Nay, almost know so well, that I durst swear  
She followed hurt Antonio.  Phil. 
What do we  Enter the Governor, two Attendees, and the Townsmen. 
Then lingering here; we will aboard the Galleys  
And find her.  Gov. 
Made he a shot into the Town?  1. Attend. 
He did Sir.  Gov. 
Call back those Gentlemen.  1. Attend. 
The Governor, commands you back.  Phil. 
We will obey him Sir.  Gov. 
You gave him cause so shoot, I know; he is  
So far from rash offence, and holds with me  
Such curious friendship: could not one of you  
Have called me while 'twas doing, such an uproar,  
Before my door too?  1. Townsm. 
By my troth Sir, we were so busy in the public cause, of our own  
Private falling out, that we forgot it; at home we see now  
You were not, but as soon as the shot made us fly, we ran  
Away as fast as we could to seek your honour.  Gov. 
'Twas gravely done; but no man tells the cause  
Or chance, or what it was that made you differ.  1. Towns. 
For my part Sir, if there were any that I knew  
Of, the shot drove it out of my head: do you know any neighbours.  all. 
Not we, not we.  Gov. 
Not well nor can you tell.  1. Attend. 
No other cause,  
But the old quarrel betwixt the Town and the Galleys.  Gov. 
Come nearer Gentlemen: what are your names?  Phil. 
My name Philippo.  Theo. 
And mine Theodoro.  Gov. 
Strangers you are it seems.  Phil. 
Newly arrived.  Gov. 
Then you are they begun this Tumult.  Phil. 
No Sir.  Gov. 
Speak one of you.  1. Attend. 
They are not, I can quiet 'em.  Theo. 
Yet we saw part, and an unhappy part  
Of this debate, a long sought friend of ours  
struck down for dead, and borne unto the Galleys,  
His name is Marc-antonio.  Phil. 
And another  
Of our own company, a Gentleman  
Of noble birth, besides accompanied  
With all the gifts of nature, ravished hence?  
We know not how, in this dissension.  Gov. 
Get you home all, and work; and when I hear  
You meddle with a weapon any more  
But those belonging to your Trades, I'll lay you  
Where your best Customers shall hardly find you. Exit Townsmen.  
I am sorry gentlemen, I troubled you,  
Being both strangers; by your tongues, and looks,  
Of worth: To make ye some part of amends  
If there be any thing in this poor Town  
Of Barcelona that you would command,  
Command me.  Theo. 
Sir, this wounded Gentleman,  
If it might please you, if your power and love  
Extend so far, I would be glad to wish  
Might be removed into the Town for cure:  
The Galleys stay not, and his wound I know  
Cannot endure a voyage.  Gov. 
Sir, he shall,  
I warrant you; Go call me hither Sirrah,  
One of my other Servants. Exit 1. attendant.  Phil. 
And besides.  
The gentleman we lost, Signior Francisco,  
Shall he be rendered too.  Enter a Servant, Rowl: Ashton. Gover. 
And he Sir too: Go sirrah, bear this ring  
To Rodorigo, my most noble friend,  
The General of the galleys: Tell him this. Exit servant:  Theo. 
Now we shall have 'em both.  Phil. 
Blessed be thy thoughts  
For apprehending this: blessed be thy breath  
For uttering it.  Gover. 
Come gentlemen, you shall  
Enter my roof: and I will send for Surgeons,  
And you shall see your friends here presently.  Theo. 
His name was Marc-antonio.  Gover. 
I know it,  
And have sent word so.  Phil. 
Did you not forget  
Francisco's name?  Gover. 
Nor his: youare truly welcome,  
To talk about it more, were but to say  
The same word often over: you are welcome. Exeunt.   

SCAENA SECUNDA.  Enter Mark-antonio, carried. Leocadia following, and the Servant. 2 Soldiers carrying him. Serv. 
This is the house Sir.  Mar. 
Enter it, I pray you,  
For I am faint, although I think my wound  
Be nothing. Soldiers, leave us now: I thank you.  1. Sold. 
Heaven send you health Sir.  Serv. 
Let me lead you in.  Mark. 
My wounds not in my feet; I shall entreat 'em  
I hope to bear me so far. Exit.  2. Sold. 
How seriously these land men fled, when our General made a  
Shot, as if he had been a warning to call 'em to their Hall.  1. Sold. 
I cannot blame 'em: What a man have they now in the  
Town, able to maintain a Tumult, or uphold a matter out  
Of square if need be: O the quiet hurly-burlies that I  
Have seen in this Town, when we have fought four hours  
Together, and not a man amongst us so impertinent or  
Modest to ask why? but now the pillars that bore  
Up this blessed Town in that regular debate, and  
Scambling, are dead, the more's the pity.  2. Sold. 
Old Ignatio lives still.  1. Sold. 
Yes, I know him: he will do prettily well at a man's liver:  
But where is there a man now living in the Town  
That hath a steady hand, and understands Anatomy  
Well? if it come to a particular matter of the lungs,  
Or the spleen, why? alas Ignatio is to seek; are  
There any such men left as I have known, that  
Would say they would hit you in this place? is there  
Ever a good heartist, or a member percer, or a  
Small-gut man left in the Town, answer  
Me that.  2. Sold. 
Mass, I think there be not.  1. Sold. 
No, I Warrant thee. Come, come, 'tis time  
We were at the galleys. Exeunt.  Enter Governor, Eugenia, Mark-antonio, Philippo, Theodosia, Leocadia, Attendants. Gover. 
Sir, you may know by what I said already,  
You may command my house; but I must beg  
Pardon to leave you, if the public business  
Forced me not from you, I myself should call it  
Unmannerly: but good Sir, do you give it  
A milder name: it shall not be an hour  
Ere I return.  Marc. 
Sir, I was ne'er so poor  
In my own thoughts, as that I want a means  
To require this with.  Gover. 
Sir, within this hour. Exit.  Marc. 
This the Lady that I quarrelled for:  
O lust, if wounds cannot restrain thy power,  
Let shame: nor do I feel my hurt at all,  
Nor is it ought, only I was well beaten:  
If I pursue it, all the civil world  
That ever did imagine the content  
Found in the band of man and wife unbroke,  
The reverence due to households, or the blemish  
That may be stuck upon posterity  
Will catch me, bind me, burn upon my forehead,  
This is the wounded stranger, that received  
For charity into a house, attempted:  
I will not do it.  Eug. 
Sir, how do you now?  
That you walk off.  Marc. 
Worse Madam, than I was;  
But it will over.  Eug. 
Sit, and rest a while.  Marc. 
Where are the Surgeons?  Eug. 
Sir, it is their manner,  
When they have seen the wound especially,  
The patient being of worth, to go consult,  
Which they are now at in another room,  
About the dressing.  Marc. 
Madam, I do feel  
myself not well.  Theo. 
Alas!  Leoc. 
How do you Sir.  Eug. 
Will you drink waters?  Marc. 
No good Madam, 'tis not  
So violent upon me; nor I think  
Any thing dangerous: But yet there are  
Some things that sit so heavy on my conscience  
That will perplex my mind, and stop my cure,  
So that unless I utter 'em. A scratch  
Here on my thumb will kill me: Gentlemen,  
I pray you leave the room, and come not in  
yourselves, or any other till I have  
Opened myself to this most honoured Lady.  Phil. 
We will not.  Theo. 
O blessed! he will discover now  
His love to me.  Leoc. 
Now he will tell the Lady  
Our Contract. Exit.  Eug. 
I do believe he will confess to me  
The wrong he did a Lady in the streets;  
But I forgive him.  Marc. 
Madam, I perceive  
myself grow worse and worse.  Eug. 
Shall I call back your friends?  Marc. 
O no; but ere I do impart  
What burdens me so sore, let me entreat you,  
(For there is no trust in these Surgeons)  
To look upon my wound; it is perhaps  
My last request: But tell me truly too,  
That must be in: how far you do imagine  
Ir will have power upon me.  Eug. 
Sir, I will.  Marc. 
For heaven's sake, softly: oh, I must needs lay  
My head down easily, whilst you do it.  Eug. 
Do Sir,  
'Tis but an ordinary blow; a child  
Of mine has had a greater, and been well;  
Are you faint hearted?  Mar. 
Oh.  Eug. 
Why do you sigh?  
There is no danger in the world in this;  
I wonder it should make a man sit down;  
What do you mean, why do you kiss my breasts?  
Lift up your head, your wound, may well endure it.  Mar. 
O Madam, may I not express affection,  
Dying-affection too I fear, to those  
That do me favours, such as this of yours.  Eug. 
If you mean so, 'tis well; but what's the business  
Lies on your conscience?  Mar. 
I will tell you Madam.  Eug. 
Tell me, and laugh?  Mar. 
But I will tell you true  
Though I do laugh, I know as well as you  
My wound is nothing, nor the power of earth  
Could lay a wound upon me, in your presence,  
That I could feel; But I do laugh to think  
How covertly, how far beyond the reach  
Of men, and wisemen too, we shall deceive 'em,  
Whilst they imagine I am talking here  
With that short breath I have, ready to swoon  
At every full point; you my ghostly Mother  
To hear my sad confession, you and I  
Will on that bed within, prepared for me,  
Debate the matter privately.  Eug. 
Forbear,  
Thou wert but now as welcome to this house  
As certain cures to sick men, and just now  
This sudden alteration makes thee look  
Like plagues come to infect it; if thou knewst  
How loathsome thou wilt be, thou wouldst entreat  
These walls, or posts to help thee to a hurt,  
Past thy dissimulation.  Mar. 
Gentle Madam  
Call 'em not in?  Eug. 
I will not ye, this place  
I know to be within the reach of tongue,  
And ears, thou canst not force me; therefore hear me  
What I will tell thee quickly, thou art born  
To end some way more disesteemed than this,  
Or which is worse, to die of this hurt yet,  
Come gentleman.  Enter Leocadia. Mar. 
Good Madam.  Eug. 
Gentlemen.  Leoc. 
Madam how is't? is Marc-antonio well?  
Methinks your looks are altered, and I see  
A strange distemper in you.  Eug. 
I am wrought  
By that dissembling man, that fellow worth  
Nothing but kicking.  Enter Philippo, and Theodosia. Leo. 
Gentle Madam speak  
To me alone, let not them understand  
His fault, he will repent it I dare swear.  Eug. 
I'll tell it you in private.  Phil. 
Marc-antonio,  
How do you?  Mar. 
Stand further off I pray you  
Give me some air.  Theo. 
Good Brother, will he scape,  
The Surgeons say there is no danger.  Phil. 
Scape?  
No doubt he will.  Leo. 
Alas will he not leave  
This trying all; Madam, I do beseech you  
Let me but speak to him, you and these by,  
And I dare almost promise you to make him  
Show himself truly sorrowful to you, besides a story I shall open to you,  
Not put in so good words but in itself  
So full of chance, that you will easily  
Forgive my tediousness, and be well pleased  
With that so much afflicts me.  Eug. 
Good Sir do.  Leo. 
And I desire no interruption  
Of speech may trouble me, till I have said  
What I will quickly do.  Theo. 
What will she say?  Eug. 
Come gentlemen, I pray you lend your ears,  
And keep your voices.  Leo. 
Signior Marc-antonio  
How do you?  Mar. 
Oh the Surgeons.  Leoc. 
Let me tell you  
Who know as well as you, you do dissemble,  
It is no time to do so; leave the thoughts  
Of this vain world, forget your flesh and blood,  
And make your spirit an untroubled way  
To pass to what it ought.  Mar. 
You're not in earnest?  
Why I can walk Sir, and am well.  Leoc. 
'Tis true  
That you can walk, and do believe you're well:  
It is the nature, as your Surgeons say  
Of these wounds, for a man to go, and talk,  
Nay merrily, till his last hour, his minute:  
For heaven sake sir, sit down again.  Mar. 
Alas  
Where are the Surgeons?  Leoc. 
Sir, they will not come,  
If they should dress you, you would die they say  
Ere one told twenty; trouble not your mind,  
Keep your head warm, and do not stir you body,  
And you may live an hour.  Mar. 
Oh heavens, an hour?  
Alas, it is too little to remember  
But half the wrongs that I have done; how short  
Then for contrition, and how least of all  
For satisfaction?  Leo. 
But you desire  
To satisfy.  Mar. 
Heaven knows I do.  Leo. 
Then know  
That I am he, or she, or what you will  
Most wronged by you; your Leocadia,  
I know you must remember me.  Mar. 
Oh heaven!  Leo. 
That lost her friends, that lost her father's house,  
That lost her fame, in losing of her Sex,  
With these strange garments, there is no excuse  
To hinder me, it is within your power  
To give me satisfaction; you have time  
Left in this little piece of life to do it:  
Therefore I charge you for your conscience sake,  
And for our fame, which I would fain have live  
When both of us are dead; to celebrate  
That Contract; which you have both sealed and sworn  
Yet ere you die, which must be hastily  
Heaven knows.  Mar. 
Alas, the sting of conscience  
To Deathward for our faults: draw nearer all  
And hear what I unhappy man shall say;  
First Madam I desire your pardon; next  
(I fell my spirits fail me) Gentlemen  
Let me shake hands with you, and let's be friends,  
For I have done wrong upon wrong so thick  
I know not where, that every man methinks  
should be mine enemy; Forgive me both.  
Lastly 'tis true (oh I do feel the power  
Of death seize on me) that I was contracted  
By seal and oath to Leocadia;  
(I must speak fast, because I fear my life  
Will else be shorter than my speech would be)  
But 'tis impossible to satisfy  
You Leocadia, but by repentance,  
Though I can dyingly, and boldly say  
I know not your dishonour, yet that was  
Your virtue, and not mine, you know it well;  
But herein lies th' impossibility,  
O Theodosia, Theodosia  
I was betrothed to Theodosia  
Before I ever saw thee; heaven forgive me  
She is my wife this half hour whilst I live.  Theo. 
That's I, that's I, I'm Theodosia,  
Hear me a little now, who have not suffered  
Disgrace at all methinks, since you confess  
What I so long have sought for, here is with me  
Philippo too, my Brother.  Mar. 
I am glad;  
All happiness to him; Come let me kiss thee  
Beg pardon of that Maid for my offence,  
And let me further, with a dying breath  
Tell in thine ear, the rest of my desires.  Eug. 
I am afraid they will all four turn women  
If we hold longer talk.  Leoc. 
Alas there is  
No hope for me; that's Theodosia  
And that her Brother, I am only sorry  
I was beholding to 'em; I will search  
Over the world, as careless of my fortunes,  
As they of me, till I can meet a curse  
To make these almost-killing sorrows worse. Exit.  Theo. 
Sir, as I live she lied, only to draw  
A just confession from you, which she hath  
A happy one for me, ask of this Lady,  
Ask of my Brother.  Eug. 
Sir, she did dissemble,  
Your wound is nothing.  Phil. 
Leocadia's gone. Exit.  Theo. 
Rise up, and stir yourself, 'tis but amazement  
And your imagination that afflicts you,  
Look you Sir now.  Mar. 
I think 'tis so indeed.  Theo. 
The Surgeons do not come, because they swear  
It needs no dressing.  Eug. 
You shall talk with 'em  
Within, for your own fancy.  Mar. 
Where's your Brother And Leocadia?  Eug. 
Within Belike.  Mar. 
I feel myself methinks as well as ever.  Eug. 
Keep then your mind so too; I do forgive  
The fault you did to me; But here is one  
Must not be wronged hereafter.  Mar. 
Neither shall she  
When I make jests of oaths again, or make  
My lust play with religion, when I leave  
To keep true joys for her, and yet within  
myself true sorrow for my passed deeds  
May I want grace, when I would fain repent,  
And find a great and sudden punishment. Exeunt.    

ACT. V.  

SCAENA I.  Enter Philippo, Diego, and Incubo. Phil. 
WHere is mine Host, did not he see him neither?  Die. 
Not I, i'faith Sir.  Phil. 
Nor the muleteer?  Inc. 
Nay he is past seeing, unless it be in's sleep,  
By this time; all his visions were the pots,  
Three hours since Sir.  Phil. 
Which way should she take?  
Nay, look you now; do you all stand still? good god  
You might have lighted on him, now, this instant?  
For love's sake seek him out, whoever find him  
I will reward his fortune as his diligence;  
Get all the Town to help, that will be hired,  
Their pains I'll turn to an annual holiday,  
If it shall chance, but one bring word of her,  
Pray you about it.  Inc. 
Her sir? who do you mean?  Phil. 
(I had forgot myself) the Page I meant  
That came along with us.  Die. 
He you give the clothes too?  Phil. 
I give the clothes to; Rascal.  Die. 
Nay good Sir.  Phi. 
Why dost thou mention, or upbraid my courtesies Slave?  Die. 
For your honour Sir.  Phil. 
Wretch; I was honoured,  
That she would wear 'em (he, I would say) 's death?  
Go, get, and find him out, or never see me,  
I shall betray my love ere I possess it,  
Some star direct me, or ill planet strike me. Exit Phil.  Inc. 
Best to divide.  Die. 
I'll this way.  Inc. 
And I this.  Dieg. 
ay, as you, find him for a real.  Inc. 
'Tis done.  Die. 
My course is now directly to some pie-house  
I know the page's compass.  Inc. 
I think rather  
The smock side o' the Town, the surer harbour  
At his years to put in.  Die. 
If I do find  
The hungry haunt, I take him by the teeth now.  Inc. 
I by the tail, yet I as you.  Die. 
No more. Exeunt.   

SCAENA SECUNDA.  Enter Philippo. Phil. 
Dear Leocadia, where canst thou be fled  
Thus like a spirit hence? and in a moment?  
What cloud can hide thee from my following search  
If yet thou art a body? sure she hath not  
ta'en any house? she did too late leave one  
Where all humanity of a place received her,  
And would (if she had stayed) have helped to right  
The wrong her fortune did her; yet she must  
Be interred somewhere, or be found, no street,  
Lane, passage, corner, turn, hath scaped enquiry:  
If her despair had ravished her to air  
She could not yet be rarefied so Enter Incube.  
But some of us should meet her? though their eyes  
Perhaps be leaden, and might turn; mine would  
Strike out a lightning for her, and divide  
A mist as thick as ever darkness was,  
Nay see her through a quarry; they do lie,  
Lie grossly that say love is blind: by him,  
And heaven they lie; he has a sight can pierce  
Through Ivory as clear as it were horn,  
And reach his object.  Inc. 
Sir he's found, he's found.  Phil. 
Ha? where? But reach that happy note again  
And let it relish truth, thou art an Angel.  Inc. 
he's here; fast by sir, calling for a Boat  
To go aboard the Galleys.  Phil. 
Where, where; hold thee. Exit.  Inc. 
He might ha' kept this now, I had nought to show for 't  
If he had had the wit t' have gone from 's word,  
These direct men, they are no men of fashion,  
Talk what you will, this is a very smelled. Exit.   

SCAENA TERTIA.  Enter Leonardo with a Surgeon. Leon. 
Upon your art Sir, and your faith to assist it  
Shall I believe you then hiS wounds not mortal?  Surg. 
Sir 'tis not worth your question; less your fear.  Leon. 
You do restore me Sir, I pray you accept  
This small remembrance of a father's thanks  
For so assured a benefit.  Surg. 
Excuse me.  Leon. 
Sir I can spare it, and must not believe  
But that your fortune may receive 't, except  
You'd ha' me think you live not by your practice.  Surg. 
I crave your pardon Sir; you teach me manners.  Leon. 
I crave your love and friendship, and require  
As I have made now, both myself and business  
A portion of your care, you will but bring me  
Under the person of a called assistant  
To his next opening, where I may but see him,  
And utter a few words to him in private,  
And you will merit me; For I am loath  
Since here I have not to appear myself,  
Or to be known unto the Governor,  
Or make a tumult of my purpose.  Surg. 
Neither  
I hope will be your need Sir; I shall bring you  
Both there, and off again without the hazard. Exeunt.   

SCAENA QUARTA.  Enter Philippo, and Leocadia. Phil. 
will you not hear me?  Leoc. 
I have heard so much  
Will keep me deaf for ever; No, mark-antony  
After thy sentence, I may hear no more,  
Thou hast pronounced me dead.  Phil. 
Appeal to reason,  
She will reprieve you from the power of grief,  
Which rules but in her absence; Hear me say  
A sovereign message from her, which in duty,  
And love to your own safety, you ought hear:  
Why do you strive so? whither would you fly?  
You cannot wrest yourself away from care  
You may from council; you may shift your place  
But not your person; and another Climb  
Makes you no other.  Leoc. 
Oh.  Phil. 
For passion's sake,  
(Which I do serve, honour, and love in you)  
If you will sigh, sigh here; If you would vary  
A sigh to tears, or outcry, do it here.  
No shade, no desert, darkness, nor the grave  
Shall be more equal to your thoughts then I,  
Only but hear me speak.  Leoc. 
What would you say?  Phil. 
That which shall raise your heart, or pull down mine,  
Quiet your passion, or provoke mine own;  
We must have both one balsam, or one wound,  
For know (loved fair) since the first providence  
Made me your rescue, I have read you through,  
And with a wondering pity, looked on you,  
I have observed the method of your blood,  
And waited on it even with sympathy  
Of a like red, and paleness in mine own;  
I knew which blush was angers, which was loves,  
Which was the eye of sorrow, which of truth;  
And could distinguish honour from disdain  
In every change; And you are worth my study:  
I saw your voluntary misery  
Sustained in travel: A disguised Maid  
Wearied with seeking: and with finding lost,  
Neglected, where you hoped most; or put by;  
I saw it, and have laid it to my heart,  
And though it were my Sister, which was righted,  
Yet being by your wrong, I put off nature,  
Could not be glad, where I was bound to triumph,  
My care for you, so drowned respect of her,  
Nor did I only apprehend your bonds,  
But studied your release: and for that day  
Have I made up a ransom, brought you health  
Preservative 'gainst chance, or injury  
Please you apply it to the grief; myself.  Leoc. 
Humh.  Phil. 
Nay do not think me less than such a cure,  
Antonio was not; And 'tis possible  
Philippo may succeed: My blood and house  
Are as deep rooted: and as fairly spread,  
As Mark-antonio's, and in that, all seek,  
Fortune hath given him no precedency:  
As for our thanks to Nature I may burn  
Incense as much as he: I ever durst  
Walk with Antonio by the selfsame light  
At any feast, or triumph, and ne'er cared  
Which side my Lady or her woman took  
In their survey; I durst have told my tale too  
Though his discourse new ended.  Leoc. 
My repulse.  Phil. 
Let not that torture you, which makes me happy  
Nor think that conscience (fair) which is no shame  
'Twas no repulse, I was your dowry rather:  
For then methought a thousand graces met  
To make you lovely, and ten thousand stories  
Of constant virtue, which you then outreached,  
In one example, did proclaim you rich  
Nor do I think you wretched, or disgraced  
After this suffering, and do therefore take  
Advantage of your need; but rather know  
You are the charge and business of those powers,  
Who, like best Tutors, do inflict hard tasks  
Upon great Natures, and of noblest hopes;  
Read trivial lessons, and half lines to slugs;  
They that live long and never feel mischance,  
Spend more than half their age in ignorance.  Leoc. 
'Tis well you think so.  Phil. 
You shall think so too,  
You shall sweet Leocadia, and do so.  Leoc. 
Good Sir no more; you have too fair a shape  
To play so foul a part in, as the Tempter:  
Say that I could make peace with fortune, who,  
Who should absolve me of my vow yet; ha?  
My Contract made?  Phil. 
Your Contract?  Leoc. 
Yes, my Contract,  
Am I not his? his wife?  Phil. 
Sweet, nothing less.  Leoc. 
I have no name then?  Phil. 
Truly then you have not;  
How can you be his wife, who was before  
Another's husband?  Leoc. 
Oh, though he dispense  
With his faith given, I cannot with mine.  Phil. 
You do mistake (clear soul) his precontract  
Doth annul yours, and you have given no faith  
That ties you in religion, or humanity,  
You rather sin against that greater precept,  
To covet what's another's; Sweet, you do  
Believe me, who dare not urge dishonest things,  
Remove that scruple therefore, and but take  
Your dangers now, into your judgements scale  
And weigh them with your safeties: Think but whither  
Now you can go: what you can do to live?  
How near you ha' barred all Ports to your own succour,  
Except this one that I here open: Love  
Should you be left alone, you were a prey  
To the wild lust of any, who would look  
Upon this shape like a temptation  
And think you want the man you personate  
Would not regard this shift, which love put on  
As virtue forced but covet it like vice;  
So should you live the slander of each Sex,  
And be the child of error, and of shame,  
And which is worse, even mark-antony  
Would be called just, to turn a wanderer off,  
And Fame report you worthy his contempt;  
Where if you make new choice, and settle here  
There is no further tumult in this flood.  
Each currant keeps his course, and all suspicions  
Shall return honours: Came you forth a Maid?  
Go home a Wife? alone? and in disguise?  
Go home a waited Leocadia:  
Go home, and by the virtue of that Charm  
Transform all mischiefs, as you are transformed;  
Turn your offended Father's wrath to wonder,  
And all his loud grief to a silent welcome:  
Unfold the Riddles you have made, what say you?  Enter Sanchio carried, Alphonso, and Servants. 
Now is the time; delay is but despair,  
If you be changed, let a kiss tell me so.  Leoc. 
I am: but how, I rather feel than know.  Sanc. 
Come Sir; you are welcome now to Barcelona,  
Take off my hood.  Phil. 
Who be these? stay, let's view 'em?  Alph. 
'Twas a long journey: are you not weary Sir?  Sanc. 
Weary? I could have rid it in mine Armour.  Leoc. 
Alas!  Phil. 
What ail you deer?  Leoc. 
It is my Father.  Phil. 
Your Father: which?  Leoc. 
He that is carried: oh  
Let us make hence.  Phil. 
For love's sake: good my heart.  Leoc. 
Into some house before he see me.  Phil. 
Dear,  
Be not thus frighted.  Leoc. 
O his wrath is tempest.  Phil. 
Sweet, take your spirit to you, and stay be't he,  
He cannot know you in this habit, and me  
I'm sure he less knows, for he never saw me.  Alph. 
Ha? who is that? my Son Philippo?  Phil. 
Sir.  Alp. 
Why, what make you here? Is this Salamanca?  
And that your study? ha? nay stay him too,  
we'll see him by his leave.  Serv. 
You must not strive Sir.  Alph. 
No, no, come near.  Sanc. 
My daughter: Leocadia?  Alph. 
How Sir: your daughter?  Sanc. 
Yes Sir, and as sure  
As that's your Son: Come hither: what now? run  
Out o' your sex? breeched? was't not enough  
At once to leave thy Father, and thine honour,  
Unless th' hadst quit thyself too.  Phil. 
Sir what fault  
She can be urged off, I must take on me  
The guilt, and punishment.  Sanc. 
You must Sir: how  
If you shall not, though you must? I deal not  
With boys Sir; ay, you have a Father here  
Shall do me right.  Alph. 
Thou art not mad Philippo?  
Art thou mark-antony? Son to Leonardo?  
Our business is to them.  Sanc. 
No, no, no, no,  
I'll ha' the business now: with you, none else,  
Pray you let's speak, in private: (carry me to him)  
Your Son's the ravisher Sir, and here I find him:  
I hope you'll give me cause to think you noble,  
And do me right, with your sword sir, as becomes  
One gentleman of honour to another;  
All this is fair Sir: here's the sea fast by,  
Upon the sands, we will determine  
'Tis that I call you too; let's make no days on't,  
I'll lead your way; to the seaside Rascals.  Phil. 
Sir  
I would beseech your stay; he may not follow you.  San. 
No, turn I'll kill him here then: Slaves, Rogues, Blocks  
Why do you not bear me to him? ha' you been  
Acquainted with my motions, logs, so long  
And yet not know to time 'em.  Phil. 
Were you Sir  
Not impotent.  Alph. 
Hold you your peace Boy.  Sanc. 
Impotent  
'Death I'll cut his throat first, and then his Fathers.  Alph. 
You must provide you then a sharper razor  
Then is your tongue, for I not fear your sword.  Sanc. 
'Heart bear me to either of 'em.  Phil. 
Pray Sir your patience.  Enter Governor and Attendants. Alph. 
My curse light on thee if thou stay him.  Phil. 
Hold.  Gov. 
Why, what's the matter, Gentlemen, what tumult  
Is this you raise i'th' street? before my door?  
Know you what 'tis to draw a weapon here.  Sanc. 
Yes, and to use it (bear me up to him, Rogues)  
Thus, at a traitor's heart.  Alph. 
Truer then thine.  Gov. 
Strike, strike; Some of the people disarm 'em,  
Kill 'em if they resist.  Phil. 
Nay generous sir  
Let not your courtesy turn fury now.  Gover. 
Lay hold upon 'em, take away their weapons,  
I will be worth an answer, ere we part.  Phil. 
'tis the Governor sir.  Alph. 
I yield myself.  Sanch. 
My Sword? what thinkst thou of me? pray thee tell me.  1 Attend. 
As of a Gentleman.  Sanch. 
No more.  1 Attend. 
Of worth,  
And quality.  Sanch. 
And I should quit my Sword  
There were small worth or quality in that friend;  
Pray thee learn thou more worth and quality  
Then to demand it.  Gov. 
Force it I say.  1 Atten. 
The Governor  
You hear, commands.  Sanch. 
The Governor shall pardon me.  Phil. 
How, Leocadia gone again? Exit Phil.  Sanch. 
He shall friend  
I'th' point of honour; by his leave, so tell him,  
His person and authority I acknowledge,  
And do submit me to it; but my Sword,  
He shall excuse me, were he fifteen Governors;  
That and I dwell together, and must yet  
Till my hands part, assure him.  Gov. 
I say force it.  Sanch. 
Stay, hear me. Hast thou ever read Curanza?  
Understandest thou honour, Noble Governor?  Gov. 
For that we'll have more fit dispute.  Sanch. 
Your name sir.  Gov. 
You shall know that too: But on colder terms,  
Your blood and brain are now too hot to take it.  Sanch. 
Force my Sword from me? this is an affront.  Gov. 
Bring 'em away.  Sanch. 
You'll do me reparation. Exeunt.  Enter Philippo. Phil. 
I have for ever lost her, and am lost,  
And worthily: my tameness hath undone me;  
She's gone hence, ashamed of me: yet I seek her.  
Will she be ever found to me again,  
Whom she saw stand so poorly, and dare nothing  
In her defence, here, when I should have drawn  
This Sword out like a meteor, and have shot it  
In both our parents eyes, and left 'em blind  
Unto their impotent angers? O I am worthy  
On whom this loss and scorn should light to death  
Without the pity that should wish me better,  
Either alive, or in my Epitaph.  Enter Leonardo, Marc-Antonio. Leon. 
Well son, your father is too near himself  
And hath too much of nature to put off  
Any affection that belongs to you.  
I could have only wished you had acquainted  
Her father, whom it equally concerns,  
Though you'd presumed on me: it might have opened  
An easier gate, and path to both our joys:  
For though I am none of those flinty Fathers  
That when their children do but natural things,  
Turn rock and offence straight: yet Marc-antonio,  
All are not of my quarry.  Mar. 
'tis my fear sir;  
And if hereafter I should ere abuse  
So great a piety, it were my malice.  Enter Attendants. Atten. 
We must entreat you Gentlemen to take  
Another room, the Governor is coming  
Here, on some business.  Enter Governor, Sanchio, Alphonso, Attendants. Mar. 
We will give him way.  Sanch. 
I will have right sir on you; that believe,  
If there be any Marshals Court in Spain.  Gov. 
For that sir we shall talk.  Sanch. 
— do not slight me,  
Though I am without a Sword.  Gov. 
Keep to your chair sir.  Sanch. 
— Let me fall, and hurl my chair! (slaves) at him.  Gov. 
You are the more tempered man sir: let me entreat  
Of you the manner how this brawl fell out.  Alph 
Fell out? I know not how: nor do I care much:  
But here we came sir to this Town together,  
Both in one business and one wrong, engaged  
To seek one Leonardo an old Genoese,  
I ha' said enough there; would you more? false father  
Of a false son, called Marc-antonio,  
Who had stole both our daughters; and which father  
Conspiring with his son in treachery,  
It seemed, to fly our satisfaction,  
Was, as we heard, come private to this Town  
Here to take ship for Italy.  Leon. 
You heard  
More than was true then: by the fear, or falsehood,  
And though I thought not to reveal myself  
(Pardon my manners in't to you) for some  
Important reasons; yet being thus charactered  
And challenged, know I dare appear, and do  
To who dares threaten.  Mar. 
I say he is not worthy  
The name of man, or any honest preface,  
That dares report or credit such a slander.  
Do you sir say it?  Alph. 
Sir, I do say it.  Gov. 
Hold,  
Is this your father Signior Marc-antonio?  
You have ill requited me thus to conceal him  
From him would honour him, and do him service.  Enter Eugenia. Leon. 
'twas not his fault sir.  Eug. 
Where's my Lord.  Gov. 
Sweet heart.  Eug. 
Know you these Gentlemen? they are all the fathers  
Unto our friends.  Gov. 
So it appears my Dove.  Sanch. 
Sir I say nothing: I do want a Sword,  
And till I have a Sword I will say nothing.  Eug. 
Good sir command these Gentlemen their Arms;  
Entreat 'em as your friends, not as your prisoners.  
Where be their Swords?  Gov. 
Restore each man his weapon.  Sanch. 
It seems thou hast not read Curanza, fellow  
I must have reparation of honour,  
As well as this; I find that wounded.  Gov. 
Sir,  
I did not know your quality, if I had  
'tis like I should have done you more respects.  Sanch. 
It is sufficient, by Caranza's rule.  Eug. 
I know it is sir.  Sanch. 
Have you read Caranza Lady?  Eug. 
If you mean him that writ upon the duel,  
He was my kinsman.  Sanch. 
Lady, than you know  
By the right noble writings of your kinsman,  
My honour is as dear to me, as the Kings.  Eug. 
'tis very true sir.  Sanch. 
Therefore I must crave  
Leave to go on now with my first dependence.  Eug. 
What ha' you more?  Gov. 
None here good Signior.  Sanch. 
I will, refer me to Claranza still.  Eug. 
Nay love, I prithee let me manage this.  
With whom is't sir?  Sanch. 
With that false man Alphonso.  Eug. 
Why he has th'advantage sir in legs.  Sanch. 
But I  
In truth, and hand and heart, and a good Sword.  Eug. 
But how if he will not stand you Sir.  Alph. 
For that,  
Make it no question Lady, I will stick  
My feet in earth down by him, where he dare.  Sanch. 
O would thou wouldst.  Alph. 
I'll do't.  Sanch. 
Let me kiss him.  
I fear thou wilt not yet.  Eug. 
Why Gentlemen,  
If you'll proceed according to Curanza,  
methinks an easier way, were too good chairs,  
So you would be content sir to be bound,  
'Cause he is lame, I'll fit you with like weapons,  
Pistols and poniards, and e'en end it. If  
The difference between you be so mortal.  
It cannot be ta'en up.  Sanch. 
ta'e up? take off  
This head first.  Alph. 
Come bind me in a chair.  Eug. 
Yes, do.  Gov. 
What mean you, Dove.  Eug. 
Let me alone,  
And set 'em at their distance: when you ha' done  
Lend me two poniards; I'll have Pistols ready  
Quickly. Exit.  Enter Philippo. Phil. 
She is not here Marc-antonio.  
Saw you not Leocadia?  Mar. 
Not I brother.  Phil. 
Brother let's speak with you; you were false unto her.  Mar. 
I was, but have asked pardon: why do you urge it?  Phil. 
You were not worthy of her.  Mar. 
May be I was not;  
But 'tis not well, you tell me so.  Phil. 
My sister  
Is not so fair.  Mar. 
It skill not.  Phil. 
Nor so virtuous.  Mar. 
Yes, she must be as virtuous.  Phil. 
I would fain—  Mar. 
What brother?  Phil. 
strike you.  Mar. 
I shall not bear strokes  
Though I do these strange words.  Phil. 
Will you not kill me?  Mar. 
For what good brother?  Phil. 
Why, for speaking well  
Of Leocadia.  Mar. 
No indeed.  Phil. 
Nor ill  
Of Theodosia?  Enter Eugenia, Leocadia, Theodosia, and one with two Pistols. Mar. 
Neither.  Phil. 
Fare you well then.  Eug. 
Nay you shall have as Noble seconds too  
As ever duelists had; give 'em their weapons:  
Now St jago.  Sanch. 
Are they charged?  Eug. 
Charged sir,  
I warrant you.  Alph. 
Would they were well discharged.  Sanch. 
I like a Sword much better I confess.  Eug. 
Nay wherefore stay you? shall I mend your mark?  
Strike one another, through these?  Phil. 
My love.  Alph. 
My Theodosia.  Sanch. 
I ha' not the heart.  Alph. 
Nor I.  Eug. 
Why here is a dependence ended.  
Unbind that Gentleman; come take here to you  
Your sons and daughters, and be friends. A feast  
Waits you within, is better than your fray:  
Lovers, take you your own, and all forbear  
Under my roof, either to blush or fear  
My love, what say you; could Cuzanza himself  
Carry a business better?  Gov. 
It is well:  
All are content I hope, and we well eased,  
If they for whom we have done all this be pleased.  Exeunt.    

prologue.  
TO this place Gentlemen, full many a day  
We have bid ye welcome; and to many a Play:  
And those whose angry souls were not diseased  
With law, or lending money, we have pleased;  
And make no doubt to do again. This night  
No mighty matter, nor no light,  
We must entreat you look for: A good tale  
Told in two hours, we will not fail  
If we be perfect to rehearse ye: New  
I am sure it is, and handsome; but how true  
Let them dispute that writ it, Ten to one  
We please the women; and I would know that man  
Follows not their example. If ye mean  
To know the Play well, travel with the Scene.  
For it lies upon the road; if we chance tire,  
As ye are good men leave us not i'th' mire,  
Another bait may mend us: If you grow  
A little galled or weary; cry but hoa,  
And we'll stay for ye. When our journey ends  
Every man's Pot I hope, and all part friends.