THE CUNNING LOVERS.  
A COMEDY.  
As it was Acted, with great Applause, by their Majesty's Servants at the private House in Drury Lane.  
Written by ALEXANDER BROME, Gent.  
LONDON, Printed for Will: Sheares, at the Bible in S. Paul's Churchyard, near the little North door, 1654.   

The Names of the Actors.  

VErona, the Duke of Verona.  
Prospero, the Prince his Son.  
Montecelso, a Peer of Verona.  
ambassadors from the Mantuan Duke.  
Cosmo, a Lord of Verona.  
Mantua, the Duke of Mantua.  
clown.  
Florence, the Duke of Florence.  
Ferrara, a marquess.  
Julio, a Mantuan Lord.  
Valentia, Daughter to the Mantuan Duke.  
Duchess.  
A Smith.  
A Mason.  
A Bricklayer.  
A Carpenter.  
Pilgrim.  
A Necromancer.  
A Spanish Lady.  
Bishop.  
Duke of Verona's Army.    
THE Cunning Lovers.  

ACT I. SCENE I.  Enter Verona, Prospero, Montescelso, Cosmo. Ver. 
MAturity and age have now at length  
imposed on me a careful providence  
Both for my dukedom's safety, & the good  
Of our most hopeful Son Prince Prospero.  Pros. 
My Lord.  Ver. 
You grow to ripeness, and my thoughts are fixed  
To have you troth-plight to some noble wife,  
That in my aged years I may have comfort  
In your fair issue, I would have you marry.  Pros. 
Marry my Lord!  Ver. 
ay, marry Prospero.  
I have laboured with a neighbour Prince, possessed  
Of a fair Daughter, to confirm a match  
'Twixt thee and her, and 'tis concluded firmly;  
Her name Valentia, she his only child,  
By which a settled League grows twixt our Dukedoms,  
And thou by this art the true hopeful Heir  
Of both out rich and wealthy Provinces:  
Your answer.  Pros. 
I am free, my Lord, as th' uncurbed air,  
That comes not within limit, as the light  
That nothing can imprison. Shall I truly  
Speak my own thoughts, and not dissemble with you?  
I that am free 'mongst men, and uncaptived  
To any, save the duty bound to you,  
Am loath to make myself a woman's slave,  
Briefly, my Lord, I have no mind to marry.  Ver. 
Not marry boy? Oh, knew'st thou what a sweetness  
And harmony's in love's blessed fellowship  
Thou wouldst embrace it gladly; this blessed union,  
This truelove's knot the Gods themselves do tie,  
And none but death dissolves. And what's Virginity?  
A something-nothing, singularity  
Unsociable, so slightly reckoned of  
That either Sex, but to thy number grown,  
Has a desire to leave it; be persuaded boy;  
Thou hast beheld the Picture, and it promises  
A perfect Lady; hadst thou seen the substance  
Thou wouldst condemn the workman for so scanting  
Her rare compareless beauty. Marriage,  
Why 'tis an honour, Emperors, Kings, and Princes,  
From the Palace to the Cottage held it sacred  
And in a high religious reverence.  Pros. 
Well, my Lord, I will be steered by you;  
Even through the turbulent Ocean of this life,  
Where many dreadful tempests threaten us,  
I shall be swayed by you, and entertain  
This sweet captivity,  Ver. 
Then art thou wise— the news. Flourish.  Mon. 
ambassadors from Mantua crave admittance  
Touching affairs of state.  Ver. 
Admit 'em— Enter Ambassadors.  
Lords, your arrival is in happy season;  
The marriage so long treated 'tween the Fathers  
Shall by the Children be confirmed at length,  
'Tis now on foot.  Em. 
Your grace mistakes the tenor,  
And the strange purpose our Embassy;  
The Prince our Master let's know by us  
That your alliance highly he disdains,  
contemns your love and near affinity,  
And for just reasons, to himself best known,  
Desires your opposition; for the marriage  
Treated between you, esteems his Daughter  
Much undervalued, and not rated truly  
To her best worth.  Ver. 
Pause Lord Ambassador,  
So high hath thy words incensed our spleen,  
And set so just an edge upon our wrath  
That we want patience to bestow an care  
Unto thy harsh conclusion: Tell thy Lord,  
We did not so much overprize his love  
As here his hate held in the basest scorn;  
Nor can he so much undervalue us  
As we his Contracts and Confederacy;  
And for thy self-presumptuous Mantuan Lord,  
We favour thee to let thee undisgraced  
Depart our Court, be gone without reply,  
Not Mantuans, but Mantua we defy.  Emb. 
Let me conclude my Message.  Ver. 
Convey him hence;  
Disdain our fellowship! Mantua shall know  
His state shall lessen whilst our glories grow.  Pros. 
ay, but, my Lord, I hope the match is not broke off  
Between me and the fair Valentia.  Ver. 
Oh boy, didst thou but know what marriage were,  
How full of troubles and contentions,  
Thou wouldst forgo it gladly; who that's free  
Would be confined to base Effeminacy?  Pro. 
But that which hath made in me the deepest impression  
Is the rare Picture of the Lady Valentia.  Ver. 
The Painter flattered her, in having her  
Thou hast a painted Mistress, of herself  
The Lady is mishapen and deformed.  Pros. 
Nay, take me with you, my Lord,  
I have beheld her Picture, and it promises  
A perfect Lady; had I seen the substance  
I should condemn the workman for so scanting  
Her rare compareless beauty; these were your own words,  
My Lord, or I much misunderstood them.  Mon. 
They were indeed, my Lord, I am witness to them.  Pro. 
Well since your Grace has no purpose to have me marry,  
Shall I have your best furtherance to travel?  Ver. 
Yes, any thing to wear out the remembrance  
Of Mantua's Daughter.  Mont. 
Another boon, my Lord.  Ver. 
What's that Coz?  Mont. 
That I may be his Partner in his travel, his associate  
To bear him company, nothing else my Lord.  Ver. 
Have your desires.  Pros. 
I embrace your fellowship,  
I'll travel, but whither? to have a sight of the fair Valentia,  
There shall be the period of my Voyage;  
What though her Father and mine be opposites, she and I  
May happily agree well enough when we meet together.  Mont. 
My Lord, what limit shall we have to play the wandering Knights in? Or how long shall it be ere we set forward on our Journey? We were best go well provided, for we must see Spain, France, and England ere we return.  Ver. 
Some ten days hence you shall set forward,  
Your stay hath a year's limit.  Pros. 
Then come, fair Coz, we must provide ourselves;  
Her Picture's lovely, and it much contents,  
And I must see the face that it presents. Exeunt.  Ver. 
Your youths cannot outstrip my gravity,  
I have you boys, and aim at your intents;  
This cunning suit for travel is a colour  
To some close practice to deceive my age,  
But I shall wind them both, Cosmo.  Cos. 
My Lord.  Ver. 
The manage of our State we leave to thee,  
Whom we know wise and gravely provident;  
Our purpose is to chase these travellers,  
Whose voyage we mistrust.  Coz. 
'Tis dangerous  
Unto your noble person, full of hazard  
And doubtful peril.  Ver. 
I am confident,  
Dissuade me not, for my intent is fixed;  
In some suspectless shape I'll after them,  
And sound the inmost of their thoughts, yet pass unknown;  
Cosmo regard your charge whilst I provide. Flourish.  
To find that craft they with such cunning hide. Exeunt.  Enter Mantua, Ambassadors, and Clown. Man. 
You have breathed defiance then.  Emb. 
I have my Lord.  Man. 
And how did he receive it?  Emb. 
With such scorn  
And proud contempt, that with far greater spleen  
He threatened us than we could menace him.  Man. 
No matter, this late difference pleaseth us,  
You have demeaned yourself even to our wish,  
Now leave us to our private meditations. Exeunt. Em.  
Come hither Sirrah, I repose in thee  
Much trust and much assured confidence,  
I have brought thee up of a youth boy, I have.  Clo. 
You have if it shall please your Grace.  Man. 
Thy Father was a good old servitor,  
I loved him well, I did, indeed I did,  
Believe it, for I did so.  Clo. 
I believe your Lordship without swearing.  Man. 
Thou know'st my Daughter should have been affied  
Unto Verona's Son Prince Prospero,  
I know thou know'st it.  Clow. 
I have had, if it please your Grace, such an inkling,  Man. 
But a difference since  
Hath fall'n betwixt us, nay, in such a manner  
That by our Leaguers we have threatened war,  
And war is like to ensue to come to thee.  Clo. 
If it shall please your honour, I'll save you that labour and come to you.  Man. 
Conceive me, I will come to that concerns thee,  
Thou know'st how dearly I affect my Daughter,  
ay, and how dearly I affect my Gold,  
Speak, did I ever yet part with one piece  
To guerdon thee, a sign I loved it well.  Clo. 
No, never, if it shall please your honour, I'll do you right in that, you ever loved me too well to give me any thing, I have ever heard you reported for as covetous and niggardly a noble Gentleman as ever bore sway here, you are one of the most closefisted Carpenters that ever bare rule in Mantua.  Man. 
To keep my Daughter that she marry not,  
By which I like wise may reserve her dower,  
I have devised this opposition  
'T ween Valentia and Prince Prospero;  
More Suitors are now resident in Court,  
But to prevent them I'll devise a Tower  
In which to shut my Daughter so impregnable  
And full of doors, of which I'll keep the keys,  
That she in vain shall strive to issue out,  
Or they to enter in; this strong foundation  
Is laid already, workmen are employed,  
And all things promise prosperous success;  
In this employment thou shalt have a charge,  
An overseers place, because I know thee  
Simple but sure of faith: we i trust thy reach,  
As far from craft as cunning, truly honest  
Because not over wise.  Clo. 
I must entreat your Lordship I may have a pair of Chopines, or some high Corked shoes, or else I shall never play the overseer well; or if your Lordship will allow me but a Ladder, I warrant you I will oversee your workmen.  Man. 
No more, there shall be order from our Treasury  
To furnish this rich building—  Enter Florence, Ferrara, Julio, Valentia, and Duchess. 
Welcome Lords.  Fer. 
Our welcome would show better,  
If we could hear it from the Ladies.  Flo. 
They come well that speed well, if we could find ourselves well sped, than we should not doubt to presume we were welcome.  Man. 
Lord Julio, are the toils prepared and set for our appointed game.?  Iul. 
They are my Lord.  Man. 
Then Princes we devote this day to pastime  
And chasing of the Stag, these beauteous Ladies,  
That must this day take leave of liberty,  
Shall in our sport associate us; Valentia,  
And you most beauteous, and my dearest Love,  
I here protest myself your Guardian,  
Hoping to see you, ere two months expire,  
The Mantuan Duchess.  Dutch. 
I hope no such matter; but my Lord,  
Am I your dear, as you proclaim me?  Man. 
My dearest dear.  Dutch. 
Then being in the chase I shall fear in the hunting:  
To come near you.  Man. 
Your reason Sweet.  Dutch. 
Lest being your dear you should strike me.  Man. 
Still is this Lady cross to my designs,  
But time may work her; Daughter, mount your Steed,  
And Lords to horse, the morning grows upon us,  
And steals towards midst of day.  Val. 
We but attend  
Your highness' company.  Flo. 
Lady, this day I will not start from your side.  Val. 
You'll be worse to me than a stitch then.  Fer. 
Nor will I leave you Lady,  Dutch. 
And yet you shall have free leave to leave me when you please.  Man. 
We trifle hours, found out your bugles sh  
And the thick air with pleasing echoes fill. Exeunt.  Iul. 
To ring thy knell, for this day thou art doomed  
To perish by the hand of julio— Horns.  
The Mantuan Prince  
Is now upon the Chase, I hear the cry,  
But ere the stag fall the proud Duke must die. Exit.  Enter Prospero, and Montecelso. Pros. 
Hark what a shrill applause doth welcome us  
Unto the Mantuan Confines.  Mon. 
It seems the Duke or some of his train  
Are in the Forest chasing some game;  
Nay, it must needs be so of necessity, they would not else make  
This noise unless they were all horn-mad.  Pros. 
If I should come a-wooing, noble Coz,  
I should presage the Music of these horns  
Might, to my future match, prove ominous;  
But now let's mix ourselves amidst the Train,  
And see what fair adventure may befall us.  Mon. 
Sever ourselves, it may be that sweet face  
Your Father praised may meet us in the Chase.  Pros. 
I like well this division, come let's part,  
And let's be henceforth strangers, thus conditioned,  
The first that can prefer himself, or service  
Unto the Duke, or gain his sovereign grace  
Shall for his friend provide some eminent place.  Mon. 
I am pleased my Lord, then come let's mount away,  
The morning's old, and we shall lose much day. Exeunt. (Horns.  Enter julio with a Disguise. Iul. 
With these Italian tricks villains oft mask  
Their grim bloodthirsty fronts, and when they purpose  
To act some horrid murder, if prevented,  
Thus pass unknown, these bought I of a Jew,  
A fellow that professeth villain;  
I'll dog the Duke, whom if I can but single,  
Or light on from his Train, but thus, 'tis done,  
The Dukedom seized, and fair Valentia won;  
Auspicious hell I thank: thee, thou art still  
True to black deeds, and friend to such as kill—  Enter Mantua. Man. 
My horse hath failed me, and I forced on foot  
To lag behind, my Train have left me all,  
Led by the music of so fair a Cry,  Ju. 
To find a place where thou mayest fitly die.  Man. 
Who named death to me?  Iul. 
One whose powerful hand  
Shall guide thy Dukedom, Daughter, and thy Land,  
And at one blow gain all—  Enter Prospero. Pro. 
And we so nigh,  
The slave that threatened death himself shall die.  Iul. 
Prevented. Exit.  Pro. 
Courage, my Lord, the traitorous groom is fled,  
And you ingirt with safety.  Man. 
Noble stranger,  
The life thou hast given me shall be ever thine,  
And thank the stars that brought thee to my rescue,  
They owed thee a great fortune, thou hast saved  
The Mantuan Duke from death.  Pro. 
Are you my Lord,  
The noble Mantuan Prince? what traitor's hand  
Durst threat your life?  Man. 
I know not, gentle sir,  
But for yourself thus much presume from me,  
You shall be ever ours, to none more dear,  
By whom I am freed from treason, death and fear.  Enter july, Florende, Ferrara, Valentia, Duchess, and Montecelso. Iul. 
This way, my Lords, I saw the Duke in perils  
An ugly slave, his face much Vizard-like.  
Assailed the Duke, and with his weapon drawn  
Fled through the Forest, I pursued the Traitor  
Whilst I had breath, but fears and guilt of conscience  
Gave his speed wings; but see my Lord's in safety,  
Whose welfare I salute thus on my knee,  
Glad in my soul that he from death is free.  Val. 
My Father threatened I blessed be that fair hand  
That wrought his safety.  Man. 
Thank this Gentleman,  
This noble youth, 'tis he by whom I live,  
Never so near my death, never so near it,  
So mortal men are still when least they fear it.  Val. 
Oh do but tell me, thrice renowned sir,  
How I may show me thankful to your love,  
Whose noble hand preserved my father's life.  Pro. 
Madam, your grace, your favour and good thoughts  
Are gifts above my merit.  Flo. 
Stranger, thou hast won the opinion and suffrage of the whole Court, and bound the Prince of Florence to be thy grateful debtor.  Fer. 
We made haste  
To the Duke's rescue, but it was thy fate  
Our valours to prevent, we came too late.  Dutch. 
Yet did Lord julio, with what speed he might, haste us to this great danger.  Iul. 
'Twas my duty  
And service to my Lord, whom thus to see  
Secured from death glads, almost franticks me;  
Legs for my life I thank, and thou my brain  
For making up this broken flaw again.  Man. 
We thank you julio, chiefly you fair stranger,  
Whom for your service we will raise in Court,  
And breast next our most dear Valentia;  
But she is for the Tower barred with twelve doors,  
And this the last day of her liberty,  
That's our next business; once more welcome sir,  
Attend on us to Court, our happy fate  
Hath given me safety, and advanced thy state. Exeunt.  Pro. 
Oh fair Valentia!  Mon. 
My Lord, if you had been born less than a Prince, yet you have wrought yourself into grace.  Pro. 
Here set a period to our travels, make a full point here.  Mon. 
And that, my Lord, is the full end of a sentence; but shall we give over travel till we have seen something worth seeing.  Pro. 
Worth seeing sayst thou? what's Valentia?  
Travel from Pole to Pole, stand at the Centre  
And progress round about the spacious signs,  
Or, were it possible, sit with the Sun  
In his high noon-tide glory, and from thence  
Survey the Kingdoms of this lower world,  
Thou canst not find her match, Apollo's hair  
Is dull to hers, her fingers, hand, eye, front.  Mon. 
Take me with you my Lord: This marvellous thing you call her beauty, is it ought but ordinary flesh and blood? Are those gold wiry hairs with which Apollo might go string his Harp, are they aught but the plain hairs of her head? Her Ivory palm, that doth in touching melt, embroidered with blue arteries, is it ought but a Lady's hand and fingers? And this strange thing, this wonder of the world, whose peer cannot be found between the Poles, are not all these nine wonders in one, she that was here even now, the Duke's Daughter Valentia?  Pro. 
Oh my dear Montecelso, this I know,  
But such an admiration hath surprised  
The freedom of my senses, that it robs me  
Of my true judgement.  Mon. 
Be advised by me: you love this Lady, but so strict is like to be her imprisonment, that you may as easily pass by the gates that Cerberus keeps, as through the doors of this Castle; you are already in favour with the Duke, do but prefer me to be overseer of the work, if I do not work it so that I will bring you to oversee her, turn me out of my office as one not worthy the name of an Architecture.  Pro. 
I shall commend thee for a man well skilled a such great structures, it may be the Duke May trust me on my word.  Mon. 
And if I do not make him dote as much on you for your valour, as you make him enamoured on me for my skill in building, may this Tower turn to the Tower of Babel, and make a second confusion between us, there remains for you nothing but this, to win the favour of the Lady; and for your access to her, if I do not teach you to counterfeit all the Duke's keys, turn by all the wards of his locks & lay open all the Jury of his twelve doors that he hath paneled against your entrance, report me to be no man of my trade: Away my Lord, leave this melancholy, walk by her window, and cast sheeps eyes that way towards her Chamber, let me alone to stand sentinel and watch if the Duke come. Exeunt.  Enter Clown, a Smith, a Mason, a Bricklayer, a Carpenter. Clo. 
Come on my masters, the Duke has appointed me to be Overseer of his works, the building of this Tower is put to my indiscretion; therefore come every one of you, and from me take your directions; what are you?  Ma. 
I am a free Mason, and expert in squaring stone.  Clo. 
A good proper square fellow, if your trade be in stone,  
I make no question but you will work hard.  Ma. 
I warrant you sir I'll do my endeavour; will you give us directions?  Clo. 
First you must make a fair large post at the entry.  Ma. 
I warrant you I'll make a large porch that any Lady shall go in and out at pleasure.  Clo. 
To see how you mistake; you must make it that nobody can go in and out at pleasure but only my Lady, it must be too wide for any that's less than she, and too straight for any that's greater than she, you conceive me.  
Oh sir, 'tis not possible.  Clo. 
Tell not me of possible, such directions I had, and such an one I must have made: Then must I have fair bay windows that must always stand open and give no light, that they that stand without and look in may see nobody within, and she that stands within and looks out may see nobody without; the reason is, my Lord means to keep his daughter in that Tower, where she must neither see nor be seen.  Ma. 
Then none must offer to look out from the inside, nor in from the outside, else 'tis not within the compass of workmanship.  Clo. 
Tell not me of workmanship, such windows I must have made: Now Carpenter for you, you must make the doors of that fashion that women may go in but men may not, and they must be of such wood as will not let a Lover come near it, for my Lord will have no Lovers come near his Castle.  Car. 
Then you must have somebody to keep them out; here are wise directions!  Clo. 
For you goodman Padlock, you must hammer out your Locks and Keys with such Art, that if the Duke, or any from him, offer to open, the Key may turn at pleasure, but if any Lover or suspicious person come to enter, Nonsum, non possum, non Licet esse Domi.  Smi. 
That's as much as to say, they must have no entrance there.  Clo. 
Smith, you have hit the nail on the head; What's your place?  Brick. 
I have the charge of the brickwork, and must build the Chimneys if you would give me directions.  Clo. 
Marry will I sir, you must have a special regard in your Chimneys that they cast heat, though there be no fire in them, and the Kitchen Chimney especially must every meal yield roast meat without sending to market, and so to work for a spurt, and after merrily to dinner.  Omues. 
A good motion. Exeunt.   

ACT II. SCENE I.  Enter Mantua, Florence, Ferrara, julio, and Prospero. Man. 
HAve you given charge, Lord julio, that my Duchess  
Be nobly served as her whom Mantua loves?  Iul. 
I have my Lord.  Man. 
And that Valentia be enclosed and shut  
From all her suitors eyes.  Iul. 
I gave such order.  Man. 
Enough now my Lords.  Flo. 
You give us fair words; but keep us from the sight of the fair Ladies.  Man. 
Soft and fair, soft and fair.  Fer. 
We know they are both soft and fair, and that's the reason we desire so much both to see and feel them.  Iul. 
I would beneath the ground sells of this Castle,  
By Miners craft, were placed some strong Petards,  
To which I would give fire and blow this structure  
Up into air that prisons thus my Love;  
But julio peace, and some advantage wait  
To show to her thy love, to him thy hate.  Flo. 
My Lord, I can compare you to none so rightly as to the King Aerifius, that shut up his Daughter Danae in a brazen Tower, but you know the end of it, there was a Jupiter that with a golden picklock broke through those brazen gates, and made the maid a mother. Now if  
I were to choose a godhead, of all the gods that are  
Would I, for her sake, wish to be a Jupiter.  Man. 
For men to be made gods it were a wonder,  
You jove, and neither have his power nor thunder?  Fer. 
Shall I bail her my Lord? I'll put you in good security.  Ma. 
But not in better security than I have put her in already,  
Yet better would do well; oh for a man  
Skilful in Architecture, and composing  
Strong frames and forms of building.  Fro. 
Now's my question;  
My Lord, there is a stranger in your Court  
Whose outside though it promise not much Art,  
Yet is he so ingenious, and so apt,  
Of such opinion and direction too,  
That could you win him to be so employed,  
As we shall hardly, for men excellent  
Are curious of their skill, you cannot find  
A man to match his skill in Italy.  Man. 
Thou wert I see, fair Knight, marked in thy Cradle  
To do me all good offices, bring that man  
To my employment, I will guerdon him  
With more than he can ask.  Pro. 
ay, but my Lord,  
He is a man always so absolute,  
And stands so much upon his excellence  
In fine contriving and rare edifices  
We shall have much ado to win him to't— Ent. Mont.  
Here comes the man.  Man. 
Sir, your due praise hath, like a harbinger,  
Gone all the way before you to provide you  
A place in my regard, you are most welcome,  
You have not seen my Castle?  Mon. 
Yes my Lord, I have perused it.  Man. 
What think you of the work?  Mon. 
'Tis pretty, pretty;  
'Tis well for modern bvilders, homebred workmen,  
'Twill serve: Yet let me tell you, worthy Lord,  
They never looked on high Mauselus' Tomb,  
Never beheld a Grecian Pyramis,  
Rich Crassus' house at Rome, Diana's Temple  
At Ephesus, nor the grand City Caire,  
'Tis well for them that are no travellers;  
Saw you me draw a form, or a fine model,  
The Fabric greatly would enamour you,  
But yet 'tis well enough, pretty, not famous,  Man. 
Shall I entreat you to direct my workmen,  
And I will weigh your pains down with reward.  Mon. 
Your Tower as 'tis, my Lord, will serve the turn,  
Is finely seated, and to keep your Daughter  
Close from the eyes of strangers, well contrived,  
Yet could I by a plot, but why should I  
Engage me in such work? 'tis well already,  
Well, very well.  Man. 
You can contrive it better, noble stranger;  
Make trial of my bounty, by mine honour  
It shall not fail your hopes.  Pro. 
Did not I tell you at the first, my Lord,  
He would be wondrous dainty of his cunning?  Man. 
So most men are in things they best excel;  
Shall I prevail fair sir?  Mon. 
Well, I am won  
To end that frame your workmen have begun;  
I have perused the situation,  
Find it secure and full of able trust,  
Yet one defect I find: Could you pick out  
Some noble Knight, whose valour did exceed,  
To build for him a Lodging near that Tower  
Where fair Valentia is to live enclosed,  
He, as a Guardian, or a sentinel,  
Might keep continual watch, defend the passage,  
And keep the place strong and impregnable?  Man. 
Where should I find a man worthy that place,  
Whose valour might supply this my employment?  Iul. 
Let me engage my person to that business.  Flo. 
Accept of me my Lord, I'll be her Guardian.  Fer. 
Let the Ferrara Marquess be employed  
In this adventure.  Mon. 
List to me my Lord:  
'Mongst other quests, once as I traveled Greece,  
There, at the sack of a most famous town,  
I saw a Knight, now resident in Court,  
Do such high deeds of Arms, that living Hector,  
Had he survived to see his Chivalry,  
Would from the Worthies nine have raised his name,  
To have eternised him with golden fame.  Man. 
In our Court resident?  Mon. 
Yes, that strange Knight,  
What wonders have I seen him do in fight!  
Would he attempt it, all the plot were sure,  
yourself, your Daughter, and your Tower secure;  
But you shall hardly win him to attempt.  Man. 
That he is valiant I must needs confess  
To my life's safeguard I have proved no less;  
Oh every way my friend; renowned Soldier,  
Pardon me that I have not done you honours  
Worthy your high deserts.  Pro. 
Alas my Lord.  Man. 
My cares are deaf unto excuse, and shut  
'gainst all denial.  Pro. 
I am exceeding loath.  Man. 
I shall deserve it, noble Gentleman,  
I must not be denied, this skilful stranger  
Shall cause my workmen build you a fair Lodging  
Next to the Castle, and adjoining close  
Unto my daughter's Chamber: this is all;  
Can you deny me this?  Pro. 
Your former honours  
Bestowed so largely on my mean deserts  
Have been with me prevailing Orators  
Upon your part, and I at length agree  
This skilful Artist shall dispose of me.  Iul. 
Again prevented.  Man. 
On all sides happy, fortunate, and blessed,  
Now my disturbed thoughts attain true rest,  
Only one bar unto my best desires  
Is the entire affection and true zeal  
I bear the beauteous Duchess.  Pro. 
Oh my Lord,  
You have entertained the most affecting wooer  
In Europe, or the world, therein he's better  
Than in his Architecture, he's but young,  
Yet Tully ne'er had such a fluent tongue.  Man. 
Hemmed in with all felicities about,  
Having these helps what need I now misdoubt?  
You shall sir bear from me most kind commends.  Mon. 
Who, I my Lord? Alas.  Man. 
Come sir, you shall  
Unto the beauteous Duchess whom I love.  Mon. 
You do not know my weakness.  Man. 
You are strong  
In your acute words, and praised for your sweet tongue,  
A token I will send by you, that give her,  
And in your own sweet words my love deliver.  Mon. 
If need's I'll do't my Lord: upon my life  
The provident Duke has found me out a wife.  Man. 
Follow us Lords, I am full of jocund mirth,  
My fears are dead, my joys receive new birth. Exit.  Mon. 
Now Prince, was not this wrought out of Adamant?  Pros. 
But what's the mark that all the several arrows shoot at?  Mon. 
This is the mark, mark it, I am made chief overseer of the work, and your Lodging is directly against the Chamber of the Lady: Now will I appoint a private door to be made through the wall, by and through which you may have access, ingress and regress at your pleasure.  Pro. 
Thou hast builded in my heart a Tower already  
Of steady and firm hope.  Man. 
Take my word I am excellent at Architecture.  Pros. 
But touching thy employment with the Duchess,  
Art thou so mad to woo her for the Duke?  Mon. 
Yes, I will set him out in his lively colours, deal you as soundly with the maid as I will work with the widow, and I doubt not but we shall both live to be in the belief there are no cuckolds but Bachelors, our stay is suspicious, be it your charge to hire—  
A workman to make the private door through the wall,  
And leave it to my wit to cover all.  Pro. 
That be my care;  
Thou wooest a widow, but I court a maid,  
The way thou treadest is easy, broad, and free,  
But mine is straight, and danger ushers me. Exeunt.  Enter Verona like a Pilgrim. Ver. 
No marvel though Jove often went disguised,  
And in his rural habit traced the earth  
To hear and see th' affairs of mortal men.  
I being a Prince have in these lowly weeds  
Seen more than being resident in Court;  
But I am now in Mantua, and thus far  
I have pursued my Son by common tract;  
The Duke and I are dangerously opposed,  
And therefore this disguise must shelter me;  
The Mantuan Court I'll now search ere I go  
For Montecelso and my princely Son—  Enter Clown with a rule and line. Clo. 
Let me see, let me see, make a door so broad, ay, so broad, and thus wide; now unless I had the Lady here to take measure of her 'tis impossible that ever I should make the door fit; if a man take a thing in hand, it is for his credit to do it workman like; now if I should make the door too straight to pinch her body, or too wide to sit upon her like a sack, what credit should I have by my workmanship?  Ver. 
Heaven save you sir.  Clo. 
Et tu quoque my friend; let me see, let me see, now have I forgotten whether the door must be made for her to come thus, with her arms broad ways, Pilcher-fashion, and a kembo; or thus sideways, like a shotten herring.  Ver. 
Sir, without interruption to your business, shall I entreat a few words with you.  Clo. 
Hold here, hold here a little, thus high, ay, thus high, just thus high; but now my friend, if I should make it just thus high according to my measure, and then the party being yet but young should grow higher, there were all the labour cast away; come, come, I must have a new measure.  Ver. 
Sir, what means this? I understand it not,  
Pray let me ask you but one question.  Clo. 
Hold again, hold again, say my friend I make it of this breadth according to my measure, just to a hair; very good my friend, but now the party being yet but lean that it should be made for, say the party hereafter grow fat, or as the Fox that when his belly was empty crept through a small hole into a hen-roost, and there filled his belly so full, that when he should come out again, there was no room; Colon was grown so great, and so poor Reynald was taken in the manner, no, my friend, this must not be.  Ver. 
I pray sir to what end take you this measure?  Clo. 
Why, my friend, because I would do nothing out of measure, I hope you have not played the old eavesdropper.  Ver. 
No sir, but if your chief affairs be ended,  
Let me discourse with you.  Clo. 
My friend, as you have lent a hand to my Line, so will I lend an care to your tale.  Ver. 
What's the best news in Court?  Clo. 
Troth sir nothing but this, that the Prince is magnanimous, the Courtiers egregious, the Ladies beauteous, the place conspicuous, and the building in hand most sumptuous.  Ver. 
What strangers so journey there, what men of note?  Clo. 
Troth sir there are only two, one is most brave at models and buildings, and hath undertaken a most brave piece of work.  Ver. 
That's not my Son, he never studied that,  
No, not his friend.  Clo. 
But there is another, the finest sweet-faced Gentleman, that saved the Duke's life in the Forest, if you know not that you know nothing, if you know not him you know nobody.  Ver. 
What manner of man is he?  Clo. 
A most dainty man, much of my size, he hath a most leering lip and tempting eye, there is only this difference between us, for you would take us to be brothers, but that he has more hair than I, and I more wit than he; Father, you are not worthy to be held a good Subject, if you love not him that had like to have killed him that would have killed the Duke, he hath set me about this piece of work here, let me see, this blockhead of mine will never bring it to any purpose— Ent. Prosp. Oh here comes the Gentleman.  Ver. 
He interpose himself and save the Duke!  
That look, that face, that gesture is my Sons.  Pro. 
Oh well encountered, tell me honest fellow,  
Hast thou dispatched the close and secret door?  Clo. 
Not yet my Lord.  Pro. 
What dost thou with that Line?  Clo. 
I am staying here, that if she should come down this way,  
I may take measure of her to make the door fit for her body.  Pro. 
Away you ass, thou wilt betray my purpose;  
But sirrah on your life use seeresie,  
And with all speed dispatch it; but what's he?  Clo. 
A Fellow that wonders so young a Gentleman as yourself should take the Duke's quarrel in hand, and save him from the sword of a Traitor.  Ver. 
'Tis Prospero my Son, shape, gate, and voice,  
To hear his valour praised how I rejoice,  Pro. 
This fellow at a blush looks like my Father,  
Such settled gravity lives in his eye;  
Nor is there wanting ought save power and state,  
Attended with the royal name of Duke  
To make him the same man; but I digress;  
Come to your private task, sirrah be secret,  
Or thy life pays for't.  Clo. 
I warrant you sir, I would be as loath to hazard my neck as you the Duke's favour, his favour once lost may be got again, but my neck once broke, I'll not trust all the bone-setters in Mantua to have it new set; fear not me.  Fro. 
This aged man is still tossed in my thoughts,  
And ever as I cast a look on him,  
His face grows more familiar with my eye;  
But to our task in hand, why do we stay?  
His cloth of state cannot be turned to grey. Exit.  Ver. 
Is this your travel Son? Oh heaven to see  
The follies and the vain delights of youth,  
How headstrong, and how full of violence!  
Why should he take this way? why sojourn here  
Within my enemy's Court? If to revenge  
My Injuries, why did he rescue him?  
Oh mine own Boy!  
I must commend thee yet that couldst win love  
Even of thy enemies, and honoured fame  
'Mongst those, that if they knew thee, hate thy name;  
I'll listen further till some fate bewray  
The full intent of his enforced stay. Exit.  Enter Mantua. Man. 
My Daughter is securely closed and shut  
In my new Turret, and the noble Knight,  
As her bold guardian, hath his place assigned,  
Those fears have end; now to my suit in hand,  
The stranger whom so late I entertained  
Is my solicitor, and is directed  
To meet and court the Duchess in the garden,  
Where from this place I may behold their gestures,  
The manner of his courtship and conceit:  
How is my heart disturbed 'tween hope and fear—  Enter Montecelso and Duchess. 
Comfort cold spirit, they now methinks appear.  Mon. 
The greatest instance of my love is, that I have given into your hands my liberty and life; my name is Montecelso, and that noble Gentleman that rescued the Duke Prince Prospero, Son to the Duke of Verona, it lies in you either to save me alone, or to destroy us both; give me no denial, sweet Lady, rather kill me than disclose me to the Duke, so shall you lessen the supposition of your cruelty.  Dutch. 
In that you are a stranger, I can no less in courtesy, nor more in modesty than to say you are welcome, though I have been trusted by many, I never betrayed any; I could call you rash to trust so rich a Jewel as your life unto the breast of a woman, but though you be so overbold to presume upon me, I will not prove so over cruel to tyrannize over you.  Man. 
She talked a great long tale, and loud she spoke,  
To her again, do not that answer take.  Mon. 
Madam, by all the honours of a Gentleman, my love is as pure to you, and as free from blemish as is the element of fire, or the white robe of Innocence.  Man. 
I know it is, I know it is.  Dutch. 
All the comfort I can give you is this, the life you have committed to me shall be kept for you, the love you have proffered to me I will ponder on, I will never marry till you are bestowed, nor ever assume the name of wife till you meet with a Lady to call you husband.  Mon. 
Give me your hand of that.  Dutch. 
I may well trust you with my hand that have trusted me with your heart.  Man. 
A match I hope, for see, they now join hands,  
My heart for joy upon the tiptoe stands;  
Follow it now, strike whilst the Iron's hot,  
I ne'er was pleased till now with a fine plot.  Dutch. 
But you forget in all this to speak for the Duke.  Mon. 
Madam, 'tis true, I did forget myself, I must entreat you to think of him, but I do not entreat you to think well of him, as ill as you can possible; I beseech you love to be out of his sight in any case, and to love him best when he is farthest off: I would have you in all humility to honour him, but I would not for a world have you to marry him; have I yet spoke for him sufficiently?  Man. 
Good, good, well spoken, and well acted too,  
He is not half so good to plot as woo.  Dutch. 
My Lord, the love we now celebrate betwixt ourselves should once have been solemnised between our parents, before these odds grew between the two Dukes.  Mon. 
Though the Dukes be at odds, let us make even,  
Contracts are made on earth, but sealed in heaven;  
Madam, let the Duke's love be the colour to our meeting: I must go tell him the manner, for with much longing he expects my return.  
Once more let these our hands our hearts make sure,  
So thrive I as my love is chaste and pure. Exit.  Man. 
Again, again, fair fortune be thy speed,  
Once more join hands, and then 'tis done indeed;  
I knew the good Knight would not choose a man  
That should not fit my purpose, heaven I pray.  
His place may take effect the other way,  
And his intents as prosperously proceed;  
But I must hence to meet him with all speed. Exit.  Enter Valentia and Prospero above. Val. 
You wrong mine honour, and I shall complain,  
I charge you get you back the way you came.  Pro. 
Banish the heaven if you exile me hence;  
My deed, though it seem rash, yet is begot  
In as pure birth as truth, and as upright  
As is the scale of Justice; I am free  
From all mis-thoughts, then do not banish me.  Val. 
What are you sir? whence are you? what's your name?  Pro. 
I am your friend, should you desire to know  
What my name is, alas my name's your foe.  Val. 
Being my friend, and court me in this kind  
You should have come and left your name behind.  Pro. 
I should indeed, my name is Prospero.  Val. 
Prince Prospero, and the Duke Verona's Son, Our professed Foe?  Pro. 
Give me some other name,  
Call me your friend and I am not the same.  Val. 
Y'are not the same, you are th' adventurous Knight  
That from the forest-treason saved my Father.  Pro. 
I was Prince Prospero when I reasoned him,  
And so continued till I saw your face;  
But as my heart within your eye was tossed,  
At once my hatred and my name I lost.  Val. 
It was a kind foes part to save a foe.  Pro. 
That kind foe's part performed Prince Prospero  Val. 
Such a fair foe that no more hurt intends  
I should prefer before a many friends.  Pro. 
Lady, we should have been espoused together,  
But that our Fathers differed in the Dower;  
Shall Gold divorce them whom the soul of love  
Links in an endless knot? I for your love  
First hazarded my life to come disguised  
Only to view your face, next I contrived  
This private passage, known to none but us;  
If this deserve no love, no friendly grace,  
Confine my life if banish me this place.  Val. 
If nothing but the rescue of my Father  
Should plead in your behalf; it deserved favour;  
But when your travel, and your servant love,  
Attended with year feature and rare parts,  
Your studious means to compass my consent  
And hazard of your fortunes many ways,  
When all these plead together forcibly  
They draw me in a treble folded chain  
Your zealous love to pay with love again.  Pro. 
I left my name behind me at Verona,  
And now no more Prince Prospero but your Love;  
Wear this for me, and use in these affairs  
My art, fear not, I will devise a means  
To win your Fathers grant unto this match.  Va. 
So we, my Lord, shall doubly be made friends,  
I take it as an earnest of your love,  
And hope of my release from this strict bondage;  
Accept of me in interchange this Ring,  
My Father gave it me, keep't from his eye,  
Or he will end our loves by jealousy—  Pro. 
As I have been, I will be firm and sure,  
Long may the date of our chaste love endure—  Enter Inlio, Florence, Ferrara. Flo. 
I prithee, sweet marquess, since my success is so bad with the Duchess let's walk by the Duke's new edifice, and see if we can take a view of the young enclosed Lady.  Fer. 
Content my Lord, the Duke's strictness adds but spurs to my desire; for commonly what we are most forbid that still we most covet.  Iul. 
Then should you with some engine raze these walls  
That interdicts your passage to that Tower;  
Had I such power I should enjoy such thoughts,  
But julio is a Subject.  Flo. 
Now you put me in mind of such generous and noble thoughts, let's take a view of the Castle, and spy where it is weakest, that there, if hereafter we should invade, we may give the best and safest assault.  Fer. 
Now you speak like a politics Lover, come let's take a view of the building: But see, see, do you know him that's talking with the Princess Valentia?  Flo. 
Is't possible, I'll in and tell the Duke.  Fer. 
Nay, leave me not behind, I'll second you.  Iul. 
Introth Lad art good at that? you are a notable rascal, can you come to't  
So closely? is this your courage my courageous Knight?  
I'll see how Mantua applauds this fight. Exit.  Val. 
We are descried my Lord, then post away,  
Get through the private door.  Pro. 
Fear not sweet Lady, I'll so blind their eyes,  
That we will still live free from their surprise. Exit.  Val. 
Ten thousand times adieu, I am full of fear;  
Where love inhabits danger still draws near. Ex.   

ACT III. SCENE I.  Enter Mantua, and Montecelso. Man. 
ALL is too good to be true, but tell me,  
And answer every word upon thy oath.  Mon. 
Upon my oath I will.  Man. 
Then tell me, tell me,  
Didst thou with all thy best prevailing words,  
With all thy art, with all thy eloquence  
Urge her to love? speak that upon thy oath.  Mon. 
Upon my oath I did entreat her love:  
With all my art, with all my eloquence.  Man. 
And did she grant thy suit?  Mon. 
She did my Lord.  Man. 
Thou honest man, thrice happy be the hour  
That I first met thee; now upon thy life  
Tell me how speedest thou?  Mon. 
Well upon my life.  Man. 
And will she love?  Mon. 
She will.  Man. 
Thou hast her promise  Mon. 
I have my Lord.  Man. 
But hast thou, as thou art a Gentleman  Mon. 
As I am a Gentleman I have my Lord,  
I should be sorry else.  Man. 
Did thy word prosper, took thy suit effect?  
Will she be won to marry at thy motion?  
And did she give her hand unto the bargain.  Mon. 
My suit and words were both effectual,  
She's won to marry, and I have her hand  
As witness to the bargain.  Man. 
Friend, swear that.  Mon. 
Upon my life, my Lord, it is most true.  Man. 
'Tis well, I thank my stars.  Mon. 
I thank my stars too.  Man. 
I thank thee too, but for thy industry  
This thing had never chanced.  Mon. 
Nay, that's most certain,  
Had I not took my time and plied it throughly,  
I had never won her heart.  Man. 
But thou hast won it.  Mon. 
ay, I thank heaven my Lord.  Man. 
And I thank heaven my Lord.  Mon. 
She hath passed her word and her firm promise to me.  Man. 
It glads me at the heart, the very heart.  Mon. 
Nor have I reason to be sorry for it.  Man. 
Once more I thank thee friend.  Mon. 
'Tis not so much worth my Lord.  Man. 
That be my peril, I'll 'bide the venture.  Mon. 
You are like to do that howsoever.  Man. 
There's gold, gramercy friend, I am thy debtor;  
This is but th' earnest of those rich rewards  
Thou shalt receive from me.  Mon. 
I thank your grace,  
And I protest I would not for a million  
My labours had been fruitless, trust upon it,  
The greatest aim of all my suit is won,  
Her heart, her hand, her free consent is won  
To match with me.  Man. 
I thank my fate 'tis so;  
But now about my other business friend,  
To look unto my works; blessed be the hour  
I met thee first, but all is in heaven's power. Exit Mon.  
An honest and a faithful Gentleman  
Upon my warrant, and I dare rely  
Upon his trust and certain honesty—  Enter, Florence, Ferrara, julio. Flo. 
My Lord, you are wronged.  Fer. 
Disparaged.  Iul. 
And disgraced.  Flo. 
I bring thee news, thy Castle is surprised,  Fer. 
Thy Fort is taken.  Iul. 
And your Daughter seized.  Man. 
How may that be Lords? 'tis not possible.  Flo. 
I speak no more, my Lord, than what I saw.  Fer. 
What I beheld.  Iul. 
And what these eyes have seen.  Flo. 
That stranger Knight, in whom thou most affiest.  
I saw in a bay window court thy daughter.  Iul. 
Embrace her in his arms, and elapse her waste.  Fer. 
She darting smiles at him, and the other.  Iul. 
Nor did they blush, change face, or cease their Courtship, but stood as at the gaze.  Man. 
july, and Lords,  
You make me smile; have you so late perused  
The situation, and observed the passages,  
And can you judge wit or the art of man  
Can force access there and not use my keys?  
Tush, you deceive yourselves— Enter Prospero.  
Ha ha, ha, come hither Knight and laugh with me  
At their three follies, they would needs persuade me  
They saw thee court my Daughter in her Chamber,  
Where thou didst publicly discourse thy fill,  
And yet these keys here at my girdle still.  Pro. 
They did me the more wrong; I scale your Tower!  
It lies not in the reach of humane power.  Man. 
I know it well, tush, while these keys hang here  
Were she fair Danae I not Jove would fear.  Pro. 
You Tower is stronger the Aerifius hold.  
Besides, I am not Jove to rain down gold.  Flo. 
Is't possible my eyes should deceive me!  Fer. 
Sure 'twas he, or the devil in's likeness.  Iul. 
There's in this some witchcraft.  Pro. 
You might as well say that you see this hand  
Reaching as high as unto yonder clouds.  Man. 
I should have seen that Ring upon that hand  
Once in my daughter's Chamber; oh my heart  
Why dost thou make such traffic with pale fear?  Pro. 
He hath spied the gift, and knows the Ring I wear.  Man. 
The same, the same, I will in and see  
The issue of my fears, twelve locks, twelve keys,  
And every door too double-barred with Iron,  
She in the inmost room walled round about,  
It cannot be, and yet the Ring I saw  
Urgeth my fears, and forceth me withdraw. Exit.  Pro. 
I know your, drift and must your speed prevent,  
But I delay; 'tis high time I were gone,  
Twelve doors the Duke must pass, and I but one. Exit.  Flo. 
Shall I not trust my eyes?  Iul. 
Though mine should fail me I would witness yours.  Fer. 
It makes me past my thoughts.  Iul. 
There's some strange juggling could we find it out;  
In all his acts your stranger let us trace,  
And if we can, work him some deep disgrace. Exeunt.  Enter Valentia above. Val. 
What hast thou done Valentia, given thy heart  
Unto a stranger, and thy Father's foe?  
I wrong the Prince, who with a heart entire  
Pursues my spousal love with chaste desire;  
This match successfully begun may move  
Our Fathers hard hearts to a League of love— Enter. Pro.  Pro. 
Wonder not Madam at my serious haste,  
Your Father on my finger spied the Ring,  
And knowing it, is gone by the known way,  
Mark you may hear the doors.  Val. 
Oh my sweet friend,  
Haste through the hidden way, leave it to me  
To excuse it, and retort his jealousy.  Pro. 
Adieu sweet Lady,  
Hark, hark the last door.  Val. 
Deceit hath eyes behind, seems blind before—  Enter Mantua. Man. 
What so sad Daughter?  Val. 
Not sad but solitary.  Man. 
I see no private passage, and my doors  
Rank in their wonted order; prithee Daughter  
Show me the Diamond I gave thee last.  Val. 
The Ring my Lord?  Man. 
I the Ring.  Val. 
Why, would your highness use it?  Man. 
She moves a doubt,  
I fear there's guile, and I must find it out.  Val. 
This is the Ring you mean:  Man. 
ay, 'tis the same;  
Oh my own Girl, fie my suspicious thoughts  
That you should lead me to these jealous fears,  
But Rings may be alike; my dear, farewell,  
Thou shalt not long in this close prison dwell.  Exit. Val. 
So Prospero hath promised, and I'll rather  
Trust him than you, although you be my Father.  Exit. Enter julio and Verona. Ver. 
I have observed sir in your troubled looks  
Much discontentment, you seem in your appearance  
To be some man of high and eminent place  
With the great Mantuan Duke.  Iu. 
What's that to thee?  Ver. 
Not much sir, yet out of a generous spirit  
In Pilgrim's bread, such as I am professed,  
I would some cordial counsels willingly  
Bestow upon you, did I know your griefs.  Iul. 
I have in me a natural melancholy;  
I have long aimed at greatness, but between me  
And that high point two strangers stand opposed;  
Canst play the skilful Surgeon?  Ver. 
Sir I can.  
Travel hath taught me much, and though now poor,  
Yet in my better days I have conversed  
In Courts of Princes; would you grace me then  
But to prefer my service to the Duke,  
I would not doubt but to remove those objects  
That so offend your eyes; what are those strangers?  In. 
The one a young Knight that professeth Arms:  
The other Architecture, both are frequent  
In the Duke's ear, and I, that in times passed  
Had all his bosom and his private thoughts,  
Scarce now remember how his Chambers hang,  
So seldom's my admittance.  Ver. 
Had you so much interest  
In his past favours as to make my tongue  
Free to his ear I would remove those flatterers,  
And plant you in your first deserved grace;  
But might I see these Gallants—  Enter Prospero and Montecelso. Iul. 
Here they come;  
The one I take to be a Conjurer,  
The other his Familiar that he works with,  
I'll show thee reasons for't.  Ver. 
Observe them sir.  Mon. 
'Tis true my Lord, this night the Duchess lies in the Castle with the Lady Valentia, 'tis by the Duke's appointment, because she may be a comfortable kind Companion to his Daughter; now this night I have cast it so, that we will be merry with them till past midnight.  Pro. 
But are the Ladies pleased it shall be so?  Mon. 
The bargain's made and sealed firm with a kiss,  
I set it fast upon the Duchess lips;  
But come let's part till the appointed hour,  
We must not be seen too familiar together.  Pro. 
Thou art my better Genius, I agree:  
I have no good but what I reap from thee.  
Mo. Farewell my Lord, only take heed of eavesdroppers. Ex.  Ver. 
Did you hear that my Lord?  Iul. 
Yes, and it strikes cold unto my heart;  
Must they this night meet in Valentia's Tower)  
The Devil hath made them picklocks.  Ver. 
Patience sir.  Iul. 
Bid me be frantic, rather rail and curse; at midnight must they meet?  
Enough, at that fixed hour I'll rouse the Duke,  
And put the Court in uproar, with his Guard  
'Siege round the Tower, and take these Incubus  
midst their lascivious pastimes.  Ver. 
Hear me sir.  Iul. 
I am deaf to counsel, patience, grace and all,  
Till in their midnight rapes these strangers fall.  Exit. Ver. 
Oh were I now girt with a potent host  
Of mine own people, and myself in Arms  
Engaged unto his rescue, I could then  
Assure me of my noble Son again;  
But I now fear his fall and ominous end,  
Whose help 'bove men to heaven I must commend;  
Yet I'll not hence, but note what shall ensue,  
Heaven hear my prayers, thou art to just men true.  Exit. Enter Valentia and Duchess above. Dutch. 
Madam, this night devote yourself to mirth, whilst your Father sleeps secure in his Palace, Montecelso hath promised to keep his widow waking; I assure you Prince Prospero will be here too instantly.  Val. 
He cannot come unlooked for, nor unwished,  
So long as their intents are honourable,  
So long their welcome is unquestionable.  Dutch. 
Troth Madam we have exceedingly forgot ourselves, we should have had a banquet to have entertained them.  Val. 
Methinks 'tis better as 'tis without, for the time, that should have been spent in sweetmeats to taste the palate, shall be now spent in sweet discourse to relish the care.  Dutch. 
Fie, how long they stay, this hour is as long as three hours: I have observed one thing in Lovers hours, the time of their absence seems hugely too long, and the time when they are present is three to one too short.  Val. 
And three to one is odds, but you are an old woman.  Dutch. 
That makes me long so much for a husband to make me even; what not yet come, nor yet? if they stay a little longer, I shall go near to swoon thrice before they be ready to enter.  Val. 
No entrance if you love me.  Dutch. 
Yes at the private door—  Enter Prospero and Montecelso. Pro. 
Madam.  Mon. 
Lady.  Dutch. 
Imagine this night to be Saint Valentine's day, when every bird chooseth her mate, for that is the season when they couple; I am here.  Pro. 
And I here.  Val. 
And I am glad, my Lord, that you are here; yet I would be loath, my Lord, have my Father know that you are so.  Pro. 
That I am so seated, and you upon my knee.  Val. 
Upon my knees I beg that it may never come to his care.  Mon. 
Come, what shall's do?  Dutch. 
Say what you will my Lord, but do nothing I entreat you.  Mon. 
If we should do nothing, of that must necessary come ill, I'll prove it too; of doing nothing comes Idleness, of idleness comes no goodness, of no goodness necessary comes ill: therefore if we do nothing, of necessity we must do ill.  Dutch. 
How well, my Lord, you can infer ill; but, my Lord, if you should insist much in this argument, it were more to express your oratory than honesty; but my Lord, I know your virtues, and the opinion of them hath prepared you a most kind and loving welcome; we have nothing to entertain you but words, and we can feast you with nothing but kisses; now you see your fare, fall to and welcome.  Mon. 
Madam, I could everlastingly feed here, and yet presume never to surfeit, I can but thank you, and now I have given thanks, I'll even make bold to fall to.  Val. 
You say you could find in your heart to offend my father.  Pro. 
I madam, so for my offence he would everlastingly confine me to this prison; why smile you Lady?  Val. 
To think if my father should steal upon you, and find you here, what a cunning picklock he would take you for, he would questionless think you carried a false key about you.  Pro. 
Tush, he hath made a Jury of twelve doors already to pass upon my cause, and they have all given my case up not guilty—  Enter Florence Ferrara, julio. Iul. 
Where's the Duke's Guard?  Flo. 
begird the Castle round.  Iul. 
Her windows shine with lights like blazing stars.  Fer. 
theyare in her Chamber sure.  Exit. Pro. 
Heard you that Madam?  Val. 
We are betrayed.  Mon. 
The Castle round beset.  Dutch. 
And hark, above I hear the Duke's keys, down the private way, and leave the excuse to us.  Val. 
Nay, when my Lords?  Mon. 
This way my Lord, good night.  Dutch. 
Nay, stand not now on trivial Compliments,  
The Duke's at hand.  Pro. 
Farewell, Ladies adieu.  Exeunt. Val. 
Nay, if you love us leave us; Madam, how shall we answer this to the Duke?  Dutch. 
Now my apron strings if I had one on, Madam take your Chair and counterfeit yourself fast asleep, so will I, not a word now if you love me.  Val. 
Thy very words are better to me than a Physical potion, for they have cast me into a sound sleep already; see I am fast—  Enter Mantua and Lords. Man. 
Soft, make no noise, the Chamber's whist and still,  
There's not so much air stirring as would make  
The trembling Aspen shake; ha, fast asleep?  
Search round the Chamber.  Flo. 
I find no man here.  Fer. 
Here's nought but walls and Arras, and two Ladies  
In depth of sleep.  Iul. 
Let's wake them my Lord and question them.  Man. 
Not for thy head that hast deluded us,  
And to this shame and mockery raised the Court,  
Would I disturb them of a minute's rest;  
Thy envy unto such as we have raised  
For their desert in Court hath stretched itself  
Even to our high disturbance.  Iul. 
Hell and the furies,  
Am I again deluded?  Flo. 
Fie Lord julio,  
To call us in a mockery from our beds!  Fer. 
Here to hunt shadows, sure the fellow dreamed.  Flo. 
Pray my Lord wake them, and resolve them how Lord julio hath possessed you.  Man. 
Pardon me,  
They both are charmed in silence, and their senses  
Confused in innocent dreams; I oft have heard  
That what a man or woman waking thinks,  
If they be questioned in their depth of rest  
Their Genius or their soul will answer for them,  
As their affections or their hearts inclined;  
Of this I'll make a true and prosperous use,  
And sound them how their humours are disposed,  
And to my Daughter first, Lords stand apart,  
How sweetly doth my Girl become her rest!  
How sound are her suspires! Valentia.  Val. 
My Lord.  Man. 
She answers me, now art thou happy Mantua,  
For thou shalt sound the utmost of her thoughts;  
Whom doth my Daughter most affect on earth?  Val. 
I love none but my Father.  Man. 
Oh mine own girl, and wouldst thou not have a husband?  Val. 
I'll live and die a maid.  Man. 
There's no deceit in this, there's no dissembling,  
She cannot study for evasive shifts,  
I thank heaven I am resolved: now Duchess  
Your turn is next, I'll try how she likes me,  
What thinks the Duchess of the Mantuan Duke?  Dutch. 
As of a fine grave noble Gentleman.  Man. 
Now she speaks her heart, this is plain dealing;  
And couldst thou be content to marry him?  Dutch. 
That's my desire.  Man. 
And live his noble Duchess.  Dutch. 
I wish no better.  Man. 
Mine own;  
Most sweetly may you sleep, and nightly dream  
Of these positions, not for half my Dukedom  
Would I disturb their quiet; come let's leave them,  
Nay pardon me, I'll see the Chamber cleared.  Iul. 
Could I be possibly thus mocked?  Man. 
Nay Gentlemen,  
I'll be the Porter, see I keep the keys  
Of these two Jewels that I most esteem;  
julio, beware hereafter you incur not  
Our wrath by these suggestions of untruths;  
Come Lords to bed, I counsel you the best,  
Goodnight my girls, and sweetly may you rest.  Ex. Dutch. 
Are they gone wench?  Val. 
ay, and so gone that till they have slept soundly, 'tis not possible to fetch them again.  Dutch. 
Now Endymion's fortune upon them, that being once asleep they may not wake again this forty years.  Val. 
Was it not well apprehended of me to say I loved none but my Father?  Dutch. 
And was it not as well seconded of me to say in my sleep I loved none but the Duke? Sure it must be in my sleep if ever I loved him, for yet I could never endure him waking; but what shall's do?  Val. 
By my counsel let us even go to bed like loving bedfellows, and see if we can dream of them that in time may become our loving bedfellows.  Dutch. 
With all my heart, now the Duke is confident of our affections, we may be the freer in the entertaining of those whom we best affect; come, come, let's leave talking of this counterfeit sleep, and see if we can take a nap in sadness.  Val. 
content, and let all men learn thus much from us, that sleeping or waking 'tis hard to o'erreach a woman. Exeunt.  Enter Montecelso. Mon. 
Yet all things go currant; if the Ladies were as nimble in their excuse as we were quick in our passage through the private door, I hope neither the Duke nor any of his Court can any way trace us in our proceedings; some Lovers would think me a most happy creature to enjoy the love of so beautiful a Lady, and for aught I know I may be so; but I have made a Vow never to marry a wife, but first to make some perfect and sound trial of her affection towards me; but because there is no woman that loves a man living, but she will infinitely lament him dead, it shall be thought that I have drowned myself, of which I will give the Court some assured instance, and afterwards living hereabouts in some odd disguise, I shall truly understand how she takes my death; if in any extremity of grief, I will revive her with as great a surplusage of joy; but if she take it coldly, as a business that little concerns her, I'll leave her to the mercy of him that bids fairest for her; and to my plot, I stay but for some company that may see me throw myself desperately into the River, hear my passion and report it—  Enter Clown. Clo. 
My work and every thing belonging to the Duke's building being brought to some good pass, I will study how to pass the time, and for the better recreation of my duller spirits take a turn or two here by the river's side to contemplate of the beauty of my Mistress; for indeed I am lately fall'n in love.  Mon. 
No fitter man in the world to be the reporter of my death than this Coxcomb.  Clo. 
Upon a morning when I rose to breakfast like a glutton,  
I donned my doublet and my hose, and eat two legs of Mutton;  
Her bonny looks forget I not, nor teeth as white as amber,  
Her face did shine like pewter-pot belonging to the Chamber;  
My lovely Mistress I espied as she a milking went a,  
But oh methought at every stride her smock that she had rent a;  
Full pale she looked, for on her head a milkpail was well placed,  
Her lips were white, her brows were red, her body was straight-laced;  
But shall I now describe her legs, for I durst look no higher,  
She went as if she trod on eggs most softly through the mire.  Mon. 
Now to my passion.  Clo. 
But oh a place besides all these above both knees and thighs a,  
Which spring, as she looked for fleas, did make my stomach rise a.  Mon. 
Let Jove threat thunder, or bright Juno scold,  
Mars threaten Arms, armed in Cyclopian steel,  
He to my heels clap Boreas brazen wings,  
Or mounted on the back of Mercury  
With greater terror scale the Olympic heaven,  
Then when the Giants mustered here on earth,  
And darted mountain tops at Jupiter.  Clo. 
What mad fellow's this? he hath driven me quite out of my meditations, pray heaven I fall not into his fegaries.  Mon. 
But oh my beauteous Duchess, cause of this  
My frenzy, lunacy, rage, and despair,  
I love thee dearly; yet because my fervour  
Shall no way cross the noble Mantuan Duke,  
I am resolved to die.  Clo. 
Of all the trades that are I love not this dying, poor Gentleman, would the Duke knew as much; but if love put a man into these perplexities, I'll take heed how I meddle with it, I'll e'en shake hands with it, and part with it as it came.  Mon. 
Whom do I see, the Duke of Mantua's Joy,  
She whose bright beauty enamours Jove himself,  
And makes him from his crystal throne descend  
To 'bide with this fair mortal, thou art she.  Clo. 
Not I I assure you, I am a man and no woman, if you will not believe me, I have a warrant about me to show.  Mon. 
Come, thou art she, wilt thou dissemble love?  Clo. 
I am not she, look here I have a beard.  Mon. 
'Tis but the periwig fall'n from thy temples,  
And stays upon thy Chin, thou art my Duchess;  
But stay, I'll place this border right again,  
And set it on thy front where it should stand.  Clo. 
Oh sir, I'll bring the Duke's own barber that shall take his oath upon a corporal book, that this is a beard and no periwig; I am he that was overseer of the Duke's work, and not the fair Duchess that you take me for, put on your spectacles, and you will see I am nothing like her.  Mon. 
Then she is lost, and I undone withal,  
Therefore I'll strip me to the Ivory skin,  
And as Leander did lively leap in,  
My head beneath yond River I will run,  
Neptune spread wide thy arms, for now I come. Exit running.  Clo. 
Oh save the man, save the man, now he flounces, now he flounders, yet he swims above water like a walnut shell, yet he sprawls like a naked frog, yet he strives for life, oh save the man, save the man; but now, now, now he sinks by degrees, now he is swallowed, now he is choked, this is my comfort, he cannot choose but go with a clean soul to heaven, it will be so washed in the water before he come thither. Again, again, again; now he lies still upon his back and floats along with the tide, and now his soul is in the skies, he doth not offer so much as to strive against the stream, but swims as gently down with the tide as may be; but what a fool was he, that knowing he should go so long a journey by water, and the weather so could too, would leave his clothes behind him? Well, I'll e'en take up his scattered Apparel, carry them to the Court, and there report what I have heard and seen, the poor Gentleman is well onward of his journey by this time, they had need provide him good store of faggots, for he'll be monstrously wet when he comes to his Inn.  Exit.  

ACT IV. SCENE I.  Enter Mantua, Florence, Ferrara, julio, Prospero, and Duchess. Man. 
LAdy, I understand and good tidings from you.  Dutch. 
From me my Lord?  Man. 
'Tis all one Madam, you at length are won  
Unto a second marriage.  Dutch. 
Hath Montecelso then told to the Duke  
Of my free grant and yielding to his love?  Man. 
Sir, I must have you freely reconciled  
To the Lord julio that hath put upon you  
Such slanderous imputations.  Pro. 
You my Lord  
Can much with me, but were't for the reverence  
I owe your Grace my sword had charactered  
My wrong upon his body.  Man. 
Come, all friends.  Iul. 
My Lord, I yield myself, and here confess  
In what high measure I have injured you.  Dutch. 
That's too much to receive injury and make satisfaction too.  Flo. 
He slandered you most vilely.  Fer. 
Told the Duke  
You were safe lodged within Valentia's Tower.  Flo. 
Made us to girt the place with the Duke's Guard.  Fer. 
And at the highest of night search all her Lodgings  
For you and th' Architector.  Pro. 
But who found you?  Flo. 
None but two sleeping Ladies, and they fast  
Surprised in innocent dreams.  Pro. 
Was this wrong  
To be endured?  Man. 
Where the guilt's confessed  
There pardon is soon purchased.  Iul. 
I'll not believe  
But there's in this some juggling, some strange feat—  Enter Clown. Clo. 
Room for a bringer of ill news, for one that brings a tale will offend all your noses, and a discourse that will distaste all your ears; who knows this Hat? who knows this Doublet? who knows this Cloak?  Dutch. 
These were Lord Montecelso's; why my heart Art thou struck cold with fear?  Pro. 
These were my friends.  Man. 
If I mistake not these belonged to him  
Whom I preferred to oversee my works,  
What news of him?  Clo. 
You that loved him, out with your eyes, and wipe your handkerchers, and as you look upon this Cloak provide for a shower of rain.  Flo. 
Speak, what of him?  Clo. 
He is dead, he is fled, he is not wounded, but he is drowned, he is gone for ever, for he is leapt into the River.  Dutch. 
Dead!  Pro. 
Drowned!  Man. 
How came he drowned? speak.  Clo. 
Marry with water, belike it got into his mouth and choked him.  Iul. 
There's one gone yet.  Man. 
I mean discourse the cause that urged him to't.  Clo. 
As I was walking by the river's side, musing and meditating on some passions incident to men of my complexion, I spied this Gentleman stark staring mad, exclaiming on the beauty of this fair Duchess, saying, that he run mad for her love; but because he would not be false to the Duke his Master, that put him in trust, he would rather show himself to be no better than a drowned Rat than deceive him, and so very courteously casts away his Hat, very dolefully lays by his Cloak, very dissolutely hurls off his Doublet, very desperately leaps into the River, and very dangerously gives up the Ghost.  Pro. 
It drives me to amazement,  
And I am wrapped in wonder.  Dutch. 
Oh my Fate!  
I am of all the most unfortunate;  
I'll not outlive him.  Man. 
Wherefore doth my Duchess  
Show in her looks such sad distemperature?  Dutch. 
I am lost, there steals a coldness through my blood,  
The Icy hand of death plays on my breasts,  
And where it toucheth turneth all to earth,  
And I am doomed—  Iul. 
Look to the Lady, see she faints.  Flo. 
How cheer you Lady?  Dutch. 
Ha, am I called again?  
Then like a soul disturbed in her departure,  
And kept from rest and downy quietness,  
Let me proclaim my anguish.  Fer. 
Patience Lady.  Dutch. 
I'll not be patient, give me leave to drown  
My soul in brine, and in a flood of tears  
Swim to my Love.  Man. 
The Duchess is distracted.  Dutch. 
I am so, I am desperate, frantic, mad,  
Go call yond Architector from the deeps,  
And he shall build a Castle in the air,  
Where we will live together 'midst the Clouds  
And laugh at these poor mortals here on earth.  Iul. 
The lady's mad.  Dutch. 
You are deceived, not I;  
Cannot a Lady weep, mourn, or lament,  
Or spend a few tears o'er a funeral hearse  
But you will judge her frantic, pray give leave,  
Which of you here can hinder me to weep?  
I am a woman  Clo. 
I am a man.  Dutch. 
Women command tears,  
Then pray let me bestow some on a friend;  
If you will die go hang or drown yourselves,  
I'll do the like for you.  Iul. 
Yes, not for me.  Dutch. 
Why should I weep for thee if thou didst so,  
Or thee, or thee, or any dotard here,  
Yet if you please you may go try for me,  
He clap at that well-acted Tragedy.  Exit. Clo. 
Oh save the woman, save the woman.  Man. 
Follow her julio, see her well attended;  
Sure she is Planet-struck, or some ill star  
Hath in her bosom wrought this mutinous war,  Iul. 
I'll see well to her safety.  Man. 
Oh my Duchess!  Pro. 
These are but women's passions,  
And like a tempest, the more violent 'tis  
'Twill be the sooner blown o'er.  Man. 
So I hope.  Pro. 
Fear not my Lord, perhaps she counterfeits  
To know how you affect her, if in this  
You will compassionate with her, and partake  
In this supposed frenzy.  Man. 
'Tis like so,  
For if a man may trust a sleeping woman,  
She loves me 'bove the world.  Pro. 
My Lord I know it.  Man. 
Nay, I know it too, I'll never else trust dreams.  Pro. 
But leaving this, I have a suit unto your Grace.  Man. 
Speak and prevail dear friend.  Pro. 
There is a Spanish Lady my first Love,  
Who heating of my residence with you,  
Is traveled thence to meet me in your Court,  
I have notice that she shortly will arrive;  
My purpose is to feast her in my Lodging  
So lately built, next to your daughter's Tower,  
Where if it please you with these Lords to grace me,  
And taste a homely banquet, I shall say  
To you I am engaged every way.  Man. 
I will not fail thee, nor shall these our friends,  
we'll grace the Spanish Lady with our presence.  Clo. 
I have a suit to your Grace.  Man. 
Thy business Groom?  Clo. 
That for the good news I have brought you I may have some guerdon, some remuneration, as they say.  Man. 
This thy reward be, since by thy occasion  
My Duchess of her best wits is deprived,  
Wander for ever like a banished Cain,  
Till of her sense she be possessed again  
Dare not so near our Court. Come Lords, let's in  
To cheer her sorrows, and her fate lament,  
But to the man that can her frenzy cure  
We here proclaim whate'er he can demand,  
If in the compass of our populous Land.  Ex. Clo. 
Banish, what's that? can any man tell me what it means? let me see; Banished sure is some strange language, and for any thing I know the meaning of it may be, give him a hundred Crowns, or give him two hundred Crowns; and banished the Court may be come to the Court and there you shall receive them; the Duke was not wont to give me such hard words; if he had called me Rogue or Rascal, I had understood him, I had had him to a hair, but the word banished doth a little stick in my stomach; Banished! I will go seek out some wise man or other to tell me what the the word means, and what sum of money, I may demand of the Duke's Treasurer; Banished—  Enter Montecelso. Mon. 
Save you sir.  Clo. 
And you my friend, what are you?  Mon. 
Sir I profess myself to be a wise man.  Clo. 
Then you are the man that I desire to meet, for I was seeking a wise man to tell me the meaning of a strange word.  Mon. 
Unfold thy mind; I shall resolve thee truly  
Lie it within the power of humane skill.  Clo. 
Thus Stands the case: The Duke entertained a fellow to look to his buildings, and this fellow drowned himself, it was my fate to bring the news to the Court, which when the young Duchess heard, she grew presently as mad as a march Hare; now demanding reward for my news, the Duke out of his bounty said, be would banish me the Court; now I would fain know what sum of money the word banished signifies.  Mon. 
It signifies, that if thou dar'st presume  
To come within the Court gate, thou incurest  
The Duke's displeasure, it is present death.  Clo. 
You will not buy my reward sir, will you?  Mon. 
Not I.  Clo. 
Then I see thou art a wise man.  Mon. 
But is the Duchess frantic?  Clo. 
I'll assure you she's a mad wench.  Mon. 
And how did the Duke take it?  Clo. 
Oh very discontentedly: and he hath proclaimed to him that can cure her of her frenzy to have the next thing he shall ask without exception.  Mon 
But art thou sure 'tis true?  Clo. 
I assure you my friend as true as I am banished.  Mon. 
That cure I'll undertake, and so prevail,  
That I presume my cunning shall not fail.  Clo. 
Now sir I have resolved you of all these doubts, can you tell me how I shall bestow myself now I am banished?  Mon. 
I can, I am a stranger in this City,  
And I profess dark arts, Physic, and Negromancy,  
And for a need can conjure; but direct me  
Where I may lodge and freely use my Art,  
I'll entertain thee and supply thy wants  
With all things needful.  Clo. 
As bountiful as wise; I am for you sir so you will teach me wit; I have seen the Duke and his Court, but never to my knowledge saw a wiseman afore, you are the first of the name that ever I looked on; but if it be nothing but a Lodging you want, trust to me, I can furnish you with that at an hour's warning.  Mon. 
Direct me to the place.  Clo. 
That I will sir as well as I can,  
Be you the wise Master, I'll be the wise man.  Mon. 
Attend me then, her choice love I have found,  
I made the hurt, and I can cure the wound. Exeunt.  Enter Mantua, Florence, Ferrara, and julio. Man. 
Her fits increase then daily.  Iul. 
They still grow,  
Sometimes her eyes with salt tears overflow;  
She fills the house with Music, and then wrings  
Her Ivory hands, she dolefully laments,  
At once expressing thousand discontents.  Man. 
Proclaim to him that can her frenzy cure  
The next thing he can ask.  Iul. 
I shall my Lord.  Flo. 
My Lord leave these discontents to some further leisure, we are now at the strange knight's Lodging to give entertainment to the Spanish Lady.  Fer. 
True, we are his invited guests, and it is not fit that our grievances should any way appear to a stranger.  Man. 
You counsel well, behold this is his Lodging—  
And here's the Knight himself. Enter Prospero.  Pro. 
Welcome my Lord to a poor stranger's Lodging,  
My beauteous Lady and my Love's arrived,  
Whose grace I first won in a Tournament,  
Bearing the prize from many Knights of Spain;  
Please you to grace me at a solemn feast  
Which I prepared this day to welcome her,  
You shall do much honour.  Man. 
Knight I will,  
And for thy sake respect her to her worth;  
How dost thou like thy Lodging built so near  
This Castle where Valentia lies enclosed?  Pro. 
My Lord, 'tis well for prospect and for air,  
will't please you enter Lords, where be my servants. Ex. (Hoboys A Banquet.  Enter Mantua, Florence, Ferrara, julio, Prospero. Man. 
Is this the place?  Pro. 
It is my Lord; but I must crave your pardon,  
We want that order, and that entertainment,  
That observation and decorum now  
That longs to your estate and sovereignty,  
Yet our good thoughts above our power are large  
And full of zeal.  Man. 
Come, thouart at too much charge.  Pro. 
May it please your Highness to possess your seat,  
Homely your Viands, but your welcome's great.  Flo. 
But where's the Lady?  
She should be Mistress of the feast today—  Enter Valentia like a Spanish Lady. Fer. 
She is not far, see yonder where she comes.  Man. 
My Daughter.  Flo. 
'Tis Valentia.  Iul. 
Sure 'tis Valentia in this strange disguise,  
Or can you once again deceive my eyes?  Man. 
My Daughter on my life, her eye, her brow,  
Her every part; ha, are my eyes my own?  
Here hang my keys, the doors fast barred and locked;  
Nor is she subtle spirit, composed air,  
To creep though keyholes, or to crawl through chinks;  
Tush, tush, one Lady may be like another,  
And my suspect is causeless.  Pro. 
Let me entreat you  
To take your seat, My lady's but a stranger,  
And unacquainted with th' Italian guise.  Iul. 
Observe her well my Lords.  Flo. 
She hath her blush.  Fer. 
Her lip, her front.  Iu. 
The right trick of her eye.  Man. 
But is it she, is't possible the Knight  
Would be so bold, she so audacious?  
It cannot be; come, now I take my place.  Pro. 
In this your Highness doth your servant grace.  Val. 
Echa nos de bener dies benediga toda la Compania seias & bien venido.  Man. 
What says the Lady?  Pro. 
She calls for wine and bids you welcome all.  Man. 
The very touch and accent of her tongue.  Val. 
signior yo bono an de buen coracon.  Man. 
Her meaning.  Pro. 
She drinks to you with a good heart.  Man. 
Tell her I pledge gladly.  Iul. 
Doubtless 'tis she, can it be otherwise?  Flo. 
Why spend we time in cups and banquets here,  
When fair Valentia must be needs transformed  
Unto this stranger-Lady.  Fer. 
Still the more  
That I observe her I am more confirmed.  Iul. 
'Tis she, some devil or witch else.  Man. 
When face, and tongue, and each thing proves her mine,  
Why should I doubt to challenge her? I'll suddenly  
Call on her name, and if she answer to't  
doubtless 'tis she, Valentia— no.  Pro. 
What means your Lordship?  Man. 
Nothing, nay nothing; see the very Ring  
Upon her finger, I can sit no longer;  
My Lords, I must entreat your patience,  
I have dropped a Jewel as I came along,  
And must find it or it will go wrong.  Iul. 
A Jewel lost.  Flo. 
Let's help his Grace to seek it.  Pro. 
Pray do my Lords.  Fer. 
Some Torches there.  Pro. 
Lights for the Lords, 'twas dropped sure by the way,  
Help him to seek it.  Iul. 
Look well there in the Rushes. Exeunt.  Pro. 
Haste through the private door, off with that habit;  
If this pass currant we are passed all fear,  
Your Father's gone in post, why do you stay?  Val. 
I have the odds, for mine's the nearer way;  
Farewell sweet Prospero. Exit.  Pro. 
Seek till your eyes be blind,  
You shall lose her though you the Jewel find;  
How Fortune smiles upon our cunning shifts,  
They are busy all at work, the Duke himself  
Is like a Jailor gingling of his keys,  
Which serves her as a watchword to uncase;  
If now our plot prove, there depends on this  
All our succeeding hopes, and future bliss— Ent. Val, above.  
Valentia, Valentia.  Val. 
Here my Lord.  Pro. 
What, at your book already?  Val. 
Yes sir, to pray  
After these tempests for a calmer day.  Pro. 
The Duke's at hand, and seeking how to cross  
Our loves hath all his Lords left at a loss— Enter Man.  Man. 
Body of me she's here; fool that I am  
Her loyalty to mistrust, or his good thoughts,  
She being chaste, he honest; how now Lady,  
What at your book so close?  Val. 
Books are Companions  
To them who are compelled to single lives.  Man. 
Thou art rank 'mongst Virgins.  Val. 
virgin's would be wives— Why come you sir?  Man. 
Only my girl to see  
How well thou farest, thou one day shalt be free;  
Fare well, in this my jealousy appears,  
And this one fear begets a thousand fears. Exit.  Val. 
Not without cause, good Father, knew you all;  
But I must down the next way through the wall. Exit.  Enter Prospero. Pro. 
By this she's coming, be thou first fair love,  
Or else our stratagem is quite overthrown,  
But if't take place, Valentia is mine own;  
How will the Duke look when he finds her here,  
And in his heart condemn his needless fear!  
He hath not wit to trace us in our drifts,  
True love is cunning and hath thousand shifts— Enter Val.  
Valentia.  Val. 
Prince Prospero.  Pro. 
And in your habit too, all succeeds happily.  Val. 
Hark, hark, my Father is at hand my Lord,  
I'll keep my place as if I had not moved,  
whoever ventured fairer where they loved— Enter Mantua  Pro. 
How now my Lord, what is the Jewel found?  Man. 
'T was never lost, I left it in my Closet,  
Where it was safe, 'twas but my jealous fear  
And blind mistake, but now those doubts are past,  
For where I found it I have locked it fast.  Pro. 
May it please your Grace to sit—  Enter Florence, Ferrara, julio. Flo. 
I have looked my eyes almost blind,  
And yet I can no Jewel find.  Fer. 
Sure if it had been a Diamond, or any stone that had had either lustre or quickness, I should have seen it sparkle.  Pro. 
Lords, you may spare your pains,  
The Jewel's found.  Man. 
Lords, seat yourselves, and grace this stranger's banquet,  
And speak what news is in the City rifest,  
For you frequent it most.  Iul. 
They say, my Lord, there is a Necromancer,  
One of rare art and cunning, that can truly  
Tell of things lost, one that hath Ephemerides  
At his finger's ends; no frenzy, fever, sickness,  
But he hath Cordials for, so his large bills,  
Pasted on every post, speak in his praise.  Man. 
And where resides he?  Iul. 
Here in the City Mantua.  Flo. 
Some mountebank fellow.  Iul. 
It should not seem so,  
For he hath much resort, and every mouth  
Proclaims his skill.  Pro. 
I will make trial of him,  
To know if my love-suit shall well succeed.  Fer. 
I'll try his cunning.  Flo. 
I'll be his Client.  Iul. 
So will I,  
And in my deep affairs his best skill try.  Man. 
I'll prove him in the beauteous Duchess cure,  
In which if he prevail his pains shall be  
Paid from the best of all his Treasury;  
We sit too long, stranger, we praise thy bounty,  
And if in any suit thou wilt use our love,  
Suppose it, craved, granted.  Pro. 
I shall find time my Lord.  Man. 
I cannot he at rest  
Till I have once more searched her private Chamber to assure and  
Of these doubts; strange: farewell,  
Only my keys can these sad doubts expel. Exit.  Pro. 
Haste, haste to meet your Father in the Tower.  
Shortly will come the long expected hour. Exit.   

ACT V. SCENE I.  A Table with a Book and Papers set out. Enter Montecelso and clown. Clo. 
YOu see I have purchased you a Lodging at the house of mine own flesh and blood, otherwise called my Father; now sir, if you do not show yourself a Master of your Art, or your Crafts-Master, you shall but disgrace yourself, and call the reputation of my Father's house in question.  Mon. 
Tush, fear not me, what cannot I perform,  
A mask of naked wenches I could bring  
To dance strange Antiques here, and none but we  
To be spectators.  Clo. 
Oh brave man, when shall we see this sport?  Mon. 
Dost thou love sweet meats? I have changed ere now,  
Against a Christning day, a shower of hail  
To perfect comfits that have served a feast,  
And I can do't again, but tush 'tis nothing.  Clo. 
Oh sweet man, here's one that by his Art is able to undo all the Comfet-makers in Christendom,  Mon. 
What meat dost thou love best?  Clo. 
I love many meats well, and indeed scarce any comes amiss, if it be come in his right likeness, when I have a stomach I can eat Capon and Rabbit, but above all meats, not to dissemble, I love a good piece of roasted beef.  Mon. 
I'll tell thee what once I did in Germany.  
There was a hill lay just against the Sun,  
I by my art changed it to perfect beef,  
Which the violent heat of the Sun roasted as  
Perfectly as any sea coal fire, and still as it  
Was enough the Country people came with their  
Sharp knives and cut it off in slices.  Clo. 
Oh that my journey had lain over that hill.  Mon. 
Now sir a brook ran by of clear water,  
And that I turned to perfect vinegar  
For sauce to that roast-beef, and the small sand  
Was changed to perfect pepper; now sir, it  
Was but bringing stead along with them and slicing away  
A piece of the hill, and sitting down by the river's side,  
And there was as good roast beef, vinegar, and pepper  
As any man in Mantua could desire to eat.  Clo. 
This cunning man hath a trade would set any man's teeth a watering that hath but a stomach— Enter Prospero.  
But soft, here come strangers.  Pro. 
If the wise man be as cunning as rumour reports him,  
I'll know what shall betide me in my love-affairs;  
This, I this, by my directions should be the house.  Mon. 
My x the Prince, excellent, I'll put him  
Into a pitiful perplexity ere we part.  Pro. 
Now will I try whether this fellow have any cunning or no, thou learned man of Mantua heaven save thee.  Mon. 
Thou worthy Gentleman of Verona, I thank thee,  
Nay, I have given 't you, pick out the meaning of that.  Pro. 
He knows me to be of Verona.  Mon. 
ay, and an enemy to the Duke of Mantua,  Pro. 
You wrong me sir, I love the Duke.  Mon. 
ay, and his Daughter too, pray do you not?  Pro. 
A rare admirable fellow, he knows all, I must colloque with him, or he'll reveal all my secrets to the Duke.  Clo. 
Nay, herein, most learned, I must needs say you err; and though I will not say your devil is a Liar, because I am altogether unacquainted with him, yet in this I must needs tell you he is in the wrong, for this Gentleman is a true Trojan, a Knight Errant, and one that hath fought at the Tomb of adventures.  Pro. 
Indeed I am a Stranger.  Mon. 
Indeed you are a dissembler.  Pro. 
My name's Antonio.  Mon. 
Otherwise called Prince Prospero.  Pro. 
The rarest fellow in Christendom; upon my life he knows my very thoughts, my meditations.  Mon. 
Come hither you, you that can gull the Duke,  
Make private doors into his daughter's Tower;  
And whilst your Noble Father, good old man,  
Thinks you abroad in travel to see fashions,  
You loiter here about a lady's love.  Pro. 
Oh wonderful, I never heard the like!  Mon. 
Now where's the Ring the Duke spied on your finger?  
When was the merry meeting with your friend  
And the two Ladies when they talked asleep,  
And by that sudden shift deceived the Duke?  
Where's the strange Spanish Lady? where's the banquet  
To which you did invite him?  Pro. 
He knows all, all by this light,  
There's nothing left unknown.  Clo. 
Here's no roguery, here's no knavery, here's no villainy, and all confessed too, I'll even, like a good Subject, make all this acquainted to the Duke.  Pro. 
Sweet Conjurer, good Mephastophilis,  
I'll give thee here a hundred Ducats straight  
But keep my counsel.  Clo. 
But if the wiseman will, the fool will not; nay, and there be such knaveries in hand, you had better never have let them come to my ear, the Duke shall know all, all by this hand, nay, that's most certain— trust to it.  Mon. 
Stay sirrah, or I'll bring you back with a whirlwind.  Clo. 
Not I most learned, you shall pardon me, I'll be no Traitor for no man's pleasure.  Mon. 
Prithee come back.  Clo. 
No such matter, have you such vagaries, I'll tell the Duke.  Mon. 
You door-maker.  Clo. 
How most wise?  Mon. 
The Duke shall know of making of that door  
By which the Prince had free way to the Lady,  
You were his Overseer.  Clo. 
No more, sweet Doctor Faustus, no more.  Mon. 
Sirrah, you had better been a door keeper than a door-maker.  Clo. 
Then I had better be a thief than a knave, silence noble Scholar, and I am at thy service.  Mon. 
Well sirrah, keep his Counsel and I'll keep yours, and whilst I speak a few words with this stranger, do thou watch there, and look steadfastly at the kitchen window, for about dinner time there will fly in Capons, Pigeons, Pigs, Geese, Larks, Chickens all ready roasted, with every one a knife at his girdle to cut himself up, do but thou watch and bring me word when they come flying in and call me; we'll to dinner.  Clo. 
Oh rare, ready roasted! I would I were a wise man too, as I shall never be whilst I live; it is nothing but spreading a cloth, laying trenchers, setting a salt, providing of bread, and making platters and sauce ready, and your roast-meat will come as duly every one flying to his own dish and sauce as Crows in the evening fly to their own nests; I'll get him to tile our house with Biscuits, to pave the Kitchen with Custards, to make our loam-walls of Gingerbread, and turn our Cheese-trenchers into Wafer-cakes; I'll watch, but if I bring him word till I have filled my belly, may my girdle break.  Pro. 
Montecelso turned a wise man!  Mon. 
I know that's more than ever thou didst look for at my hands.  Pro. 
Beshrew thee Coz, thou hast put me into two pitiful plunges, first thy death, next for this needless fear.  Clo. 
Not yet!  Pro. 
I thought as surely thou hadst been in heaven  
As I know this is earth: introth mad Coz,  
And hast thou gone beyond me?  Clo. 
Now I hope: no, that was a Crow that flew over our house.  Mon. 
Be confident for I have cast a plot.  
How thou shalt steal away thy Love to Church,  
And make her Father with his own free hand  
Give her to thee in marriage; more than this,  
Put strange disgraces on thy opposites  
And such as are thy rivals; wouldst thou think  
Me a perfect wise man to contrive this well?  Pro. 
More wise than I first knew thee.  Mon. 
For this time part, early tomorrow morning  
Convey Valentia through the private door  
Suited as at the Banquet; next invite  
The Mantuan Duke to grace your Nuptials  
In Saint Lauretta's Chapel; what remains  
Shall all be mine.  Pro. 
My dearest friend adieu,  
No cunning head had e'er a heart so true. Exit.— Knock.  Mon. 
Hark, some one knocks.  Clo. 
Most prudent.  Mon. 
Leave staring to the kitch till anon,  
And let me in these Gallants.  Clo. 
Beshrew their hearts for me, belike they heard what good cheer was flying towards our house, and now like bold guests they are come to bid themselves to dinner; I will let them in, though I could wish them choked for their pains—  Enter Verona, Florence, julio, Ferrara. Ver. 
Who takes his turn first?  Flo. 
That will I so please you.  Mon. 
I know them all, their business, their affairs,  
And I shall fit them finely; grave old man,  
My choicest welcome I bestow on you,  
And welcome Lords to all, but first you:  
I know my Lord of Florence you affect  
The amorous Lady fair Valentia.  Flo. 
Oh marvelous!  Mon. 
But you the frantic Duchess.  Fer. 
Possible.  Mon. 
Come, come, I know the inmost of your thoughts,  
Then to be brief and cut off circumstance,  
Hark you my Lord of Florence, do but this,  
And I'll assure you fair Valentia's love,  
Tomorrow morning must the stranger Knight  
In Saint Lauretta's Chapel wed his Love,  
The Spanish Lady, given him by the Duke,  
Whilst they are busied watch the new-built Tower,  
In which by Art I will contrive a door,  
Which you shall find wide open.  Flo. 
Oh rare man!  Man. 
Through which pass freely; now to blind suspicion,  
Because you may not be descried or known,  
Wear some disguise, this paper shall direct you.  Flo. 
Thou most ingenious Artist, take this Gold,  
The happy earnest of my future love. Exit.  Mon. 
Enough my Lord, now wait upon my skill;  
And now to you, I know you love the Duchess,  
But she is changed by sickness; yet my Lord  
If you will marry fair Valentia,  
Who for your love disdains the Florentine,  
I'll set you down a course to compass it.  Fer. 
Either will serve my turn, I'm not so curious  
To thy my fancy to one woman's face.  Mon. 
Know, through my spirits help, I have digged a door  
Quite through the turret's door, which wall leads straight  
Unto the Lady's Chamber, take this note,  
This Paper shall direct you.  Fer. 
There's Gold for Paper.  Mon. 
Adieu.  Iul. 
My turn is next;  
I am a stranger to thee, learned Friend,  
Nor dost thou know my business.  Mon. 
No Lord Julio.  Iul. 
julio I'm called indeed.  Mon. 
And love that Lady  
Whom these two Princes tenderly affect.  Iul. 
thouart something near me.  Mon. 
I'll come nearer yet,  
To the two strangers I could tell your hate,  
Th'one drowned, tother Guardian of the Tower,  
But my Art's no accuser.  Iul. 
Noble Scholar,  
Let this Gold bribe thy art to secrecy,  
And teach me how I may prevent their plots,  
Gain the Duke's Grace, and fair Valentia's love.  Mon. 
This Paper shall do all, peruse it then,  
And let it be your Tutor, so now leave me.  Iul. 
with all my art I'll prove thy magic skill,  
And to the utmost what thou plot'st fulfil, Exit.  Mon. 
Adieu; you sirrah.  Clo. 
Most judicious.  Mon. 
Follow them with speed,  
Watch them, and when thou seest them near the Tower,  
Run to the Duke and call his armed Guard  
To apprehend these Miners that have digged  
Unlawful passage through his high-built Tower,  
See them well beaten, and after come to me,  
And I will teach thee this rare Negromancy.  Clo. 
Fear not, Master Doctor, first I'll play my part,  
And after come to you to learn your Art. Exit.  Mon. 
Now sir to you.  Ver. 
And what to me sir? think not with your tricks  
To draw me in opinion you are wise.  Mon. 
Were not your Grace a man I reverence.  Ver. 
My Grace, what Grace? you'd gull me would you not?  Mon. 
Nor can you gull me most excellent Lord,  
You are Verona's Duke; nay, never start,  
For to your care my tongue's close as your heart;  
I know that Mantua loves you not, yet know  
Your Son serves Mantua as a friendly Foe.  Ver. 
Pardon me sir, I now approve your cunning,  
Conceal my being, and expect reward—  
But see the Duke.  Enter Mantua, Duchess and Servant. Man. 
What liberal reprover, I perceive  
You find some matter in this man of note.  Ver. 
Matter indeed my Lord, this is a man  
Exceeding many other private men,  
That are indeed but shadows, counterfeits,  
This man hath natural gifts joined with his Art.  Man. 
We like your praise, and will ourself applaud  
His excellence, if by his grounded skill  
He can give case to this fair Duchess grief.  Mon. 
What Mortals can attempt I'll undertake;  
This is the Lady, and I know her grief  
Arises from a sullen melancholy;  
She has lost some friend, the sorrow of whose death  
Hath turned her sanguine streams of blood to black.  Dutch. 
Black, lost, gone, sunk, fled, adieu, farewell,  
The waves have quite undone poor Lucibell.  Mon. 
Tush, I can cure this madness presently.  Man 
How learned Friend? restore her to her senses,  
And the next thing that thou demandest is thine.  Mon. 
I know the perfect temper of her grief,  
Which that you may perceive I'll cure with Art;  
I will raise up the Ghost of him she loved,  
So like in all things you yourselves shall swear  
It is the man.  Man. 
Shall he appear to us?  Mon. 
Here to you all, but stir not, move no foot,  
Take heed you do not question him too far,  
But only hear and see, and stand aloof.  Man. 
But will he not affright us?  Mon. 
Not a jot;  
Look to the Lady, I'll about my Art,  
And send the Architector presently, Exit.  Dutch. 
Well, if I see him I will chide him so,  
That he shall never drown himself again.  Man. 
Is't possible this can be done by Art?  
Or means he to delude us?  Dutch. 
So it seems, for I shall ne'er more see my Love again.  Man. 
Sweet Lady be content.  Dutch. 
You see I am.  
The sound may give whole counsel to the sick,  
Away, your counsel does increase my pain,  
And I shall ne'er more see my Love again—  Enter Montecelso as a Ghost. Ver. 
He's come already.  Man. 
Lord how like he is!  
Would you not swear it were the very man;  
An admirable Artist I see he wafts the Lady.  Dutch. 
Oh thou dear soul of my sweet Love deceased,  
I'll follow thee.  Man. 
Stir not, it is the Devil.  Dutch. 
Spirit or fiend, his amorous shape so charms,  
Did he grasp hell I'd fly into his arms. Exeunt.  Man. 
The Devil hath born her hence, follow and rescue her.  Ver. 
Not I my Lord, your Grace shall pardon me.  Man. 
Oh what black trespass hath she done 'gainst heaven  
That she should thus be hurried quick to hell;  
Now is she hopeless, past recovery;  
I'll hang that Conjurer.  Ver. 
Condemn him not before you see the event.  Man. 
What can the event be but her utter loss?  
Oh my fair Duchess, if thou perish thus,  
I'll make that base Enchanter curse this day,  
For thy lost blood his traitorous head shall pay—  Enter Montecelso. Mon. 
How cheers my Lord, did you behold the Ghost?  Man. 
We saw the Devil, but speak, where's the Duchess?  Mon. 
Safe in my Chamber, where before tomorrow,  
Your Grace shall see her perfectly recovered,  
Doubt not my Art; but there remains, my Lord,  
For you a further business, the strange Knight  
Expects the Spanish Lady from your hand  
In Saint Lauretta's Chapel, whither I promise  
To bring your Lady perfectly recovered.  Man. 
See this done,  
And the next thing that thou demandest is thine.  Mon. 
I shall make bold, my Lord, to claim your promise.  Man. 
Claim it and take it.  Mon. 
You'll trust her in my Chamber for this night,  
For I must physic her.  Man. 
Do what thou pleasest, it highly shall content me;  
Come, let's return to Court, and there attend  
Of our precedent fears a fortunate end. Exeunt.  Mon. 
Thou hast no part in that fair fortunate end,  
It belongs to me, and to my noble friend: Madam—  Enter Duchess. Dutch. 
Oh my dear Love how could you so delude  
A Lady that with such entire affection  
And zealous love admired and honoured you!  Mon. 
Of that no more; the Duke for this great cure  
Hath promised me what I shall next demand,  
I have a boon to ask, I have set on foot  
Many strange plots which must their full effect  
Receive this night, the Prince is to espouse  
The fair Valentia by the Duke's free gift,  
Florence, Ferrara, and Lord julio,  
His Rivals, are about their several tasks;  
Something there remains for me, amongst the rest,  
And you to act out of these confusions,  
We must devise our fortunes to secure,  
And save that love that is so chaste and pure. Exeunt. Hoboys.  A dumb show. Enter at one Door a Bishop, Mantua, and Verona, fetch Prospero and Valentia, Mantua makes some strange pauses, viewing the Lady exactly, at length (recalling his hand once or twice) troth-plights them, and so march over to the Church. Enter julio like a Smith. Iul. 
In this disguise who can know julio now.  
Or guess the purpose that I have in hand?  
This Paper tells me I shall find a door  
Left open to Valentia's amorous bed: here I'll wait  
The happy end of my auspicious Fate—  Enter Florence as a Mason. Flo. 
So I am fitted so un willingly  
That I scarce know myself; yet as this Paper  
Gives me directions may I find the Door  
Left open to me, I desire no more—  Enter Ferrara as a Carpenter. Fer. 
A Carpenter I should be, would this Apron  
And Rule bring me to rule in Mantua  
By marriage of the fair Valentia,  
I should applaud my fortunes, and commend  
The wise man's Art; this can imperious love, Ent. Clo. and Guard.  
Whose power hath oft transhaped the gods above.  Clo. 
You shall be transhaped I'll warrant you, we'll teach you to take upon you other men's trades before you be free of their Companies; if your Rule at your back will not rule you, we will; stand close Gentlemen, and though we find them broad awake, let's see if we can take them napping.  Iul. 
The door, according to to the wiseman's words,  
I find wide open, I'll enter.  Fer. 
Why pause I being so near?  Flo. 
I'll enter instantly, but soft, I am prevented.  Iul. 
Company, now must I counterfeit to work.  Fer. 
To shun discovery,  
I'll see how I can play the Carpenter.  Flo. 
Now to my Masonry.  Iul. 
Would I were ten Leagues off.  Clo. 
Upon them Gentlemen, upon them, these be the underminers I told you of, up with your Pole-axes and down with them, see they have broken open a door already, they shall be arraigned of Burglary.  Iul. 
Hold, hold, and hear us.  Clo. 
Bombast them Gentlemen, currifeige them bravely, hear them after; pelt the Mason with stones, hammer the Smith, & overrule the Carpenter, come, away with 'em. Exeunt.  Enter Verona. Ver. 
My Son is married to the Mantuan Princess,  
A Lady of that presence and opinion,  
That it offends me not; but to prevent  
Any offence that may be done to him,  
Or injury to me, I have at hand  
A Royal Army under Cosmos charge,  
Our trusty and approved Counsellor,  
To offer War or Peace— the Duke's at hand. Exit. Flourish.  Enter Mantua, Prospero, and Valentia. Man. 
How naked is our Train, that of our Courtiers,  
So few attend this high solemnity?  
Where's Florence? where's Ferrara? where's Lord julio?  
That have not seen us given away this  
Daughter I fear, for so my eye persuades;  
Had I not in these keys such confidence,  
And in the strength of my large edifice,  
I should not doubt to swear, but these I'll trust,  
When servants fail, keys and stonewalls prove just.  Pro. 
Thrice worthy sir, you have given me such a gift,  
Should you impart you Dukedoms large revenue  
It could not equalled; now your hand is past,  
Which both your word and Church-rights have made fast.  Man. 
'Twere best that I return to see all safe,  
And next inquire how my fair Duchess fares.  Pro. 
Fear not my Lord, you have committed her  
To his protection that undoubtedly  
Will see to her recovery.  Man. 
So we hope.  Pro. 
Restore her to her senses and true feeling.  Man. 
We doubt it not.  Pro. 
And apt her thoughts for love.  Man. 
That's all we covet.  Pro. 
I have understood  
By those that know him, so much he'll make good.  Man. 
Then are we truly happy—  Enter Clown, julia, Florence, Ferrara. Clo. 
Room for one good Subject that brings three bad Subjects to answer Burglary before your Grace: see here my Lord, here are three fellows that have good faces and are ashamed to show 'em, they seem to be sound men, yet see if they do not strive to look scurvily?  Man. 
What men are these? or how have they offended?  
Why do they turn their heads thus and look downwards?  Clo. 
As if they had stolen a pudding.  Pro. 
These faces I should know, my Lord of Florence,  
Ferrara's marquess, and Lord julio;  
Is this the cost you have so liberally  
Bestowed to grace our feast? my Bride and I  
Are much bound to you  Man. 
These the men, perhaps they have some mask,  
If so, let's see't.  Flo. 
Compel me not to answer.  Fer. 
Give me leave  
To blush and be ashamed.  Iul. 
Hell take the Conjurer.  Man. 
My Lords, what means this antique? if you have  
Some sport to show us, pray my Lords let's have't.  Iul. 
So, so.  Pro. 
How well this suit becomes you! troth my Lord,  
Might I advise you, I would still go thus;  
Acquaint me with your tailor.  Man. 
Is this the newest fashion?  Iul. 
Would I were in the Indies  
Rather than here.  Man. 
But tell me sirrah, what means this show?  Clo. 
Call you these Lords! no, they are Loons, they look more like Prentices than Princes; these are they that have beleaguered your new Tower, and digged a hole through the wall, that an Ox or an Ass, 'bless us, as big as yourself may creep through; there's a door made into your daughter's Tower where she was kept, and the door being left open she is flown away: Valantia is gone, she is gone, and these are they that had their hands in the business.  Man. 
Valentia gone, and by their practice lost!  Clo. 
By theirs; when they were boring at the hole we took them at it with their tools out, we took them in the manner before they could put up, and here we have brought them to answer before your Grace, that you may freely punish their weakness that would offer to go to your walls.  Man. 
These injuries severely we'll revenge,  
But most on thee false julio, for her loss  
Thy head shall pay.  Iul. 
Pox of the Conjurer I say still.  Man. 
Speak, where's Valentia, can you tell me?  All. 
No.  Man. 
Then for her loss your forfeit lives shall go;  
Who can advise me best where I may find  
Her I most loved, and hath proved most unkind.  Clo. 
Might I advise your Grace, I would have you should do as Archers do, that when they have lost an Arrow, shoot another after it; so, my Lord, if you have ever another Lady or Mistress about the Court, shoot her after your Daughter, that you may either find one, or lose both.  Pro. 
Good Counsel.  Man. 
To him that can reduce her to her Tower,  
Or put me in possession of her hand,  
What grace our Power or Dukedom can command  
Shall all be his.  Pro. 
I take you at your word, see here my Lord.  Man. 
This, this is the Spanish Lady.  Val. 
She that spoke  
In Spanish once is forced to change her tongue,  
Pardon dear Father.  Man. 
Ha! am I then o'erreached? is't possible  
For all my Cost, Charge, Care, and diligence  
A Wenches wit outgo me? could her subtlety  
Make way through that which not an Army could?  
What should I say?  Clo. 
Those Creatures that wear smock's  
Will where they love pierce stonewalls, creep through locks;  
Why thus you see, as well as we, a great man may be gulled,  
Woodcocks are meat, but not to eat until that they be pulled. Ex.  Iul. 
That private door, my Lord, I now perceive  
Was made by him.  Flo. 
My Lord, remember you  
The Ring you spied upon his finger once,  
Then think upon the door.  Fer. 
You made us toss the rushes  
And seek the Jewel, did you? Speak, what art thou  
That thus hast gulled the Duke?  Pro. 
I am a Prince,  
And every way thy equal.  Man. 
I would to heaven it were no worse.  Val. 
He is no less my Lord, receive him then to grace.  Man. 
Of Whence?  Pro. 
Verona.  Man. 
Mine enemy.  Pro. 
Was't not a friendly part  
To lodge your only child so near my heart?  Val. 
My Lord, remember he once saved your life,  
And even for that deserves me for his wife.  Pro. 
Now as a friend a friendly League I crave,  
Take not away what you so freely gave.  Man. 
I will pause upon't, although it be past help,  
And see what we may punish, what forgive;  
But now my only comfort is stored up  
In the fair Duchess, if she gain her health— Ent. Dutch. and Mont.  
And here she comes, I cannot choose but fear  
So long as I behold you Ghost so near.  Fer. 
That Conjurer  
Is a rare Artist that can raise a shadow  
So like unto the Substance.  Man. 
Fair Duchess, art thou recovered, speak?  Dutch. 
Thank heaven I am.  Man. 
'Tis well done to have heaven still in thy thoughts  
Being so near a fiend, come from that Devil.  Dutch. 
Fear not my Lord, I am so armed with faith,  
And love withal, he hath no power to hurt me.  Man. 
Art thou well?  Dutch. 
Yes my Lord, I am well.  Man. 
Come from him, but art thou very well?  Dutch. 
Very well my Lord I thank you.  Man. 
Perfectly well?  Dutch. 
So well you cannot wish me better.  Man. 
Come hither then.  Dutch. 
I was of late but ill,  
Then give me leave, my Lord, to keep myself  
Well while I am well.  Mon. 
That's with me my Lord.  Man. 
Can the Ghost speak too.  Man. 
Speak, and talk, and walk,  
Embrace and kiss.  Man. 
I love no kissing Ghosts.  Flo. 
Believe me, that Magician was a man  
Of rare experience, and deserves great praise.  Fer. 
Did he not say before what he should do,  
That Ghost doth act his part exceedingly.  Man. 
I say come from him, he's a spirit.  Dutch. 
I do not love to do any thing but with a spirit.  Man. 
He came out of hot hell.  Dutch. 
he'll make the warmer bedfellow.  Mon. 
Further than you have been, be not deceived my Lord.  Man. 
That's far enough already.  Mon. 
I am the man I seem, no Architector,  
But x to that noble Gentleman  
Prince Prospero, of the Duke Verona's Court,  
That for this Duchess love have thrust myself  
Into this imminent danger, as the Prince  
Hath done the like for his Valentia;  
You promised me if I could cure this Lady,  
The next thing I demanded, her I crave,  
Whom if I truly merit let me have.  Man. 
I have been gulled on all sides, nor will I  
Put up these injurious wrongs, you both shall die— Ent. Iul.  Iul. 
To arms, to arms my Lord, for I descry  
A potent Army marching before our walls,  
And by their Colours flying they should be of Verona.  Man. 
Be they from whence they will we'll parley them;  
Admit their General to an interview Flourish.  
To know their cause of Arms— Enter Verona.  
Our clinic turned a Soldier I  Pro. 
Noble Father I crave your pardon.  Mon. 
I the like my Lord.  Ver. 
Stand on our party then whilst I debate  
Our purpose with this Duke; these Arms we levied  
With no intent of wrong to Mantua,  
But to secure our Son, and this his friend,  
We do protest it is no work of ours  
That he is married, neither did we wish't;  
But since by heaven and fate they are united,  
We rather wish they may their Loves enjoy,  
Than what heaven seems to applaud we should destroy.  Man. 
To plead in Arms is best way to prevail,  
Where still the weakest must yield; since our own blood  
Hath had an equal share in this our wrong,  
Why should we envy strangers, we will strive  
From the world's eye to hide this ominous scar;  
Heaven offers peace, why should we threaten war?  
Each where they love join hands.  Pro. 
Our hearts.  Val. 
A sweet Conclusion.  Mon. 
And now Madam I'll make you amends for mocking you.  Dutch. 
Great men are sometimes gulled, but that's not common,  
You have done more, for you have gulled a woman.  Man. 
Your Son, Verona, and his friend hath much  
Outstriped us by their wit, but the best is  
We are not gulled alone,  
You see your greatness is no privilege  
From those that have quick brains, but now all friends;  
Verona we embrace, and thus atone  
All our dissensions; Marriage shall conclude  
What Arms hath menaced; our united Dukedoms  
Since by this happy fate they are agreed,  
we'll strive which most in bounty shall exceed.  
FINIS.