MARCIANO; OR, THE DISCOVERY. A TRAGICOMEDY, Acted with great applause, before His Majesty's high Commissioner, and others of the Nobility, at the Abbey of Holyrud-house on St. John's night: By a company of Gentlemen.  
Segnius irritant animum demissa per aurem,  
Quam quae sunt oculis subjecta fide libus—  Hor. de art. Poet. 
Edinburgh, Printed in the year, 1663.   

To all humours.  
IT was easy to cast the horoscope of this Piece, before it peeped into the world, it being to appear in a Country, where the cold air of men's affections nips such buds in their very infancy: But, it was resolved it should live, maugre all the foul-mouthed, detracting censures of some modern Critics, who, labouring to deprive this of all applause, do render all others of this kind despicable in the sight of, otherways more ingenuous persons than themselves, such as presume upon a monopoly of wit granted to them and their company, who, like to the Spaniard, scorns all perfumes, but what his own Country produces, do extort a larger Preface than was really intended. Although then, it is not ordinar to apologise for Plays in general, at the publishing of any particular one; Yet, because this now appears as a City-swaggarer in a Country-church, where seldom such have been extant; and that the peevish prejudice of some persons, who know nothing beyond the principles of base, greasy, arrogant, illiterate Pedants, who, like the grasshoppers of Egypt, swarm in every corner of this Nation, and plague all the youth accordingly, is such, that they cannot have patience to hear of a Comedy, because they never see one acted: For these reasons, you may consider Plays in their antiquity, use and dignity, and then, ingenuè mecum agate Zoilus. We read of such practices among the Grecians since the first Olympiad, now more than two thousand years ago; from whom they were transferred to the Romans, by them had in such high veneration, that the greatest Emperors and Princes amongst them, as Julius Cesar and others, upon the festival days, have made experiment of their gallantry by acting: and it is esteemed yet so little derogatory from the quality of a Prince, (far less of a Gentleman) to appear at solemnities upon the Stage, that it is laudably practised amongst our Christian Monarchs to this day.  
The use which may be reaped of plays is so evident, that unless a man mistrust his very senses, he cannot but confess, that to see, in a well acted Tragedy, the fatal ends of such as commit notorious murders, rapines, and other licentious vices represented, would terrify any man whatsoever from attempting the like. In a Comedy, where ordinarily the paltry vices of the age, such as the Court vanity and prodigality, the City covetousness, or the Country-simplicity, etc. are extraordinarly taxed, many are deterred from what formerly they hugged, seeing their darling crimes exposed upon a public Stage to the mockery of the world: and hence, he who is even but the least conversant with the hateful humours of both Sexes of our times, after perusal, may guess why this carries the Title of The Discovery. Besides, Plays incite the youth to imitate the virtuous actions of their Predecessors, as Alexander was stirred up by representation of Achilles' actions, achilles' by those of Theseus, etc. with several other examples, whereof pregnant History can give an ample account. Nor is the perfection in acting less beneficial to the Commonwealth: For, we read how all the young Nobility of Greece were trained up in this noble exercise, that they might be the better enabled to demean themselves handsomely in foreign Embassies, or such like employments: and we see even in our days, how all such as are educat in the Jesuit Schools, where no less then amongst public Actors the stage is daily trod gain an unspotted reputation of complete Orators throughout all the Christian world. And the defficiency (or rather wilful contempt of this education) is the reason why many of our pretenders to wit, now a days forsooth, either whistle of a tedious harangue with no more motion than a statue, or else use such a canting constrained tone, with such ridiculous grimassees, as they seem rather to imitate a Mountebanks Zany, in his apish gestures, then to aspire to the title of accomplished Orators. Whereas to deliver a speech naturally, that the action may suit the words, and the words the action; although dissonant to the pedantry of this age, who vote down the use of Stageplays (as they call them) for no other reason, but because in them, such pilsring stinkards as themselves, are often discovered in their own colours; so ridiculous in their imperious behaviour, that none save themselves (whose innate stupidity doth much excuse their impudence) cannot but see it and abhor it; although dissonant, I say, to their humours, yet is, by the approbation of all the intelligent world, the chiefest ingredient of an ingenuous Orator.  
The dignity of Plays is such, as it hath been the study of the greatest Monarchs who ever flourished, to encourage the wit of their respective ages in such active performances, not only by their open countenance, but likewise private favours bestowed on the managers of such exercises, as many fair monumental theatres built by the most eminent persons of the world, in their very ruins, do yet eloquently testify.  
Nor doth there any thing appear in holy Writings to impugn these assertions. For (which is remarkable) Plays of all sorts, did never so much flourish throughout all the Territories of the Roman Empire, as in the days of our blessed Saviour and his Apostles; yet we never read that He, or any of them (otherways impartial reprovers of their contemporary enormities, did ever, either directly, or indirectly tax this innocent and useful recreation: But on the contrary, inveighed against such hypocrites, as deluded the world with a vain show of piety, such as are now our sneaking detractors of the Stage, who, its probable) only hate Plays, because such pleasant spectacles divert the current of our, otherways melancholy imaginations, and hinder people from dreaming on rebellion, which our late proceedings may at large instruct: For no sooner had those hellhounds, assassinats of our liberties, snatched the very reins of Government into their hands, but as soon they thought it expedient to vote down all Scenick Plays, so that they should suffer in that same sentence with Monarchy; upon whom they have such a dependence, that at the thrice auspicious restauration of our Royal Sovereign, they were not only by him re-established, but also more gloriously adorned with privileges, then formerly.  
The main intent of this ensuing Tragi-comedy, was to smatter at a compliment, for that noble Hero, whose merits claim more at the hands of all Apollo's subjects, than the stock of their inventions will ever be able to refound; who, as he hath proved himself (since first he was entrusted) a zealous propogator of the Royal Interest, so hath appeared a very noble Patron to all true wit and gallantry whatsoever. But lest it should seem too serious for the palates of those, who expected nothing from the Stage but mirth: It was thought fit to interlude it with a comic transaction. So that being tied to two different plots, without the special concurrence of a certain ingenuous Gentleman, to whose industry this Play owes much of its perfection, it had been a difficult task to have arrived at a happy Catastrophe, seeing how hand it is to carry on two different plots in one single Play, is not unknown to any, who knew what belongs to the Stage.  
Let this then suffice the judicious Reader, As for such of a seeming serious, but real saucy apprehension, who condemn this, as an inconsiderate youthful frolic; when indeed, such clogs of Parnassus, are as so much rost-beef to their squeamish stomachs; whose calidum naturale, can digest nothing more heavy than bawdry Ballads, scurrilous Sonnets, and such water-works of Poetry: 'tis below Phoebus to cudgel them, and any, s●●t pitiful, thread bare, ●ringing, indigent, mercenary dabblers, to flatter them. Let them live and die in the trenches of their own nesty ignorance, whilst all lovers of mirth and wit, may daily challenge the respects of,  
Their really devoted.   

Dramatis Personae.  

CLeon, Duke of Florence.  
Marciano, a noble Siennese, his General.  
Strenuo, Marciano's friend.  
Borasco, Captain of the rebels guard.  


Cassio,  
Leonardo,   two noble Gentlemen of quality.  


Pantaloni,  
Becabunga,   two rich gulls, in favour with the Ladies.  
Manduco, an arrogant Pedant, challenging power over Becabunga.  
Two Courtiers.  
Jailor.  
A Servant, Partuysans, Drums, Trumpets, Soldiers, etc.   

Women.  
Arabella, A Siennese Lady, beloved of Marciano.  


Chrysolina,  
Marionerta,   two Ladies of honour.   
The Scene, Florence.   
MARCIANO; OR, THE DISCOVERY.  


Actus primus, Scaena prima.  A noise within, Trumpets, drum's, Pistols, Shot, Sword's clash, etc. Enter Marciano, wounded, chaffing, etc. 
LOst— By heavens— all lost,  
All our hopes blasted  
By Jove, without hope of recovery.  
O gods, commiserate our despicable estate.  A noise within as before, Exit hastily. Enters again. 
Oh heavens! this day were we at push of pike  
For our public liberty— Now we are at our wits end  
For our private safety.—  A noise within cry, they fly, they fly. 
Hark, what a hideous noise— this fatal day  
Hath canceled all our former victories,  
Never to be remembered— in this hour.  
Our ancient splendour suffers sad eclipse.  
— They fly— They fly— Oh what a dismal word!  
How unaccustomed— Siennese to fly;  
True Siennese— such as had vowed their lives.  
A victim for their public liberty,  
To fly, like dust before mechanic slaves;  
Such as while now never knew other arms,  
Then forks or shovels— Do the gods intent  
To revel in our miseries!— and prove  
Strange paradoxes to the credulous world!  
That abject, base, unmannaged Varlets thus  
Should overcome the Cavalry of Sienna:  
A thing unheard of! O! accursed wretches,  
Whose too politic pates first hatched these warts;  
You are least sharers here. My Prince and I  
Must suffer this reproach— I slight my wounds;  
— But O! my honour lost.— I'll bear it stoutly:  
— Up then my spirits, be not you dejected;  
There's something yet to care for— there's no time  
Now to complain: heavens know what just designs  
We undertook; though with unequal success.  
we've done what lay in humane power— Pistoia  
Bear witness, where so many insolent rebels  
Have found this day their sepulchre: thy fields  
Can testify how dear some sold their lives.  
And thou, the Ensign of all noble souls  
Make affidavit of this day's behaviour.  Holds up his sword. 
— Now to my generous Prince, whom cruel fates  
Have leveled with myself— Him will I search,  
That if my fates require my quick departure  
For Stygian lakes: as in my life I've been  
Eminent in his service, I may now,  
Dying courageously in his presence, have  
His royal Passport and Testificate,  
To raise my honour, and condole my fate.  Exit.  

Scaena Secunda.  Enter Borasco with Soldiers. Bor.— 
SO now the day's our own— but yet the Duke  
Escaped— Marciano not prisoner!  
The victory is not such as I expected.  
But come, my Mirmydons,— we'll not give over;  
Let's, with a party of our choicest horse,  
Make narrow search for Marciano:  
For, if we find him not, we must not think  
To gain the General's favour.— Come, my Boys,  
He hath attempted oft to strip the Senate  
Of their new power, and so destroy us all;  
Whose hopes are nourished by the present wars:  
So that if you shall catch him, you may sure  
Expect a great reward:— his excellency,  
The brave Lord Barbaro will hug you for it.  Exit with Sould.  

Scaena Tertia.  Enter Marciano solus. 
O Florence! done't insult at this day's success,  
This unnatural victory over thy lawful Prince  
Will quickly make thee sensible of unnatural  
And intolerable Tyranny: that Ichneumon,  
Who now tickles thee in all thy desires  
Will stop thy breath at length, whilst thy good Prince,  
Whom thou can blame for nothing but misfortune,  
Shall yet be more unfortunate in seeing  
Thee too unfortunate.— But, I perceive  
The main design of this preposterous war,  
Love and ambition muzles humane souls;  
So that when private Subjects covet honour  
And power, their lawful Prince must quit his Throne,  
No matter for what reason, since they mean  
Some reformation; as if private preferment  
Were inconsistent with all Monarchy.  
— But what! 'tis unseasonable for me t'expostulate.  
My noble Prince (goodness protect him still)  
Is gone for Savoy; I am here commanded  
To rally those few forces I can find,  
With slender hopes— but yet I'll do my best  
To prosecute his Royal orders— so,  
Good Subjects votes assist me— 'tis resolved,  
For while Dame nature does allow me breath,  
I'll serve my Prince— nought shall excuse but death.  Exit.  

Scaena Quarta.  Enter Cassio, Leonardo, as at Florence. Cass.— 
O! Leonardo— How dost do Boy?  Leon. 
Cassio— thou art the man I was seeking, welcome effaith, and how Prithee? Cass Well.  Leon. 
As well as the Ladies will permit thee?— ha.  Cass. 
Yes indeed— but how goes all with you— what news dost hear.  Leon. 
Bad news effaith, all our hopes are now perished, it is for certain that the Duke is beat at Pistoia; whether he hath escaped or not himself, is not yet known.  Cass.— 
Sad— trust me 'tis most sad, but, prithee, who shall be Duke now dost think, when they have rejected him, who by law of inheritance was their lawful Prince.  Leon. 
Why— thou,— if thou be'st weary of thy life; for a Prince now a days must reign no longer, than his Subjects please his government— men now begin to act real Tragedies.  Cass. 
Good; but how does thy learned coxcomb judge of the event of all our present broils?  Leon. 
Why, just as a sober Drawer does of a company of young gulls inflaming the reckoning beyond the faculties of their pockets:— they will look pitifully, when the bill is produced— for they must pay for all.  Cass. 
How! ● dost think our state-mountebanks will not agree?  Leon. 
Yes, for a while they may, like heissers in the yoke, but when once got loose, they'll push at one another.  Cass. 
Well— no more of that string; these distracted times, I fear, will afford such discourses every day— how does thy Mistress, the Lady you know of,— ha?  Leon. 
— Why, faith as unreasonable as ever.  Cass. 
How! unreasonable—  Leon. 
Yes— unreasonable, she will admit of no terms whatsoever, so that I fear I shall be forced to storm her: 'slid, I can have scarce liberty to survey her very parapet and outworks, for fear of a thing (I do not know what they mean now a days) suspicion, I think she calls it; and for thee, I believe thou art in no better condition, for her Sister, thy Mistress (otherways in my opinion pliable) is ruled by her, and both by an old urinal-peeping, onyon-breathed hag, whom they call the Countess of Saromanca forsooth, so that now she is impregnable.  Cass. 
A devil she is, 'slid, I think it is become an epidemical disease amongst that sex, they intent, I think, to imitate the times, and erect a new Commonwealth of themselves, excluding all masculine society, and so be called the new assembly of zeal-copyholders.  Leon. 
Yes, yes, for now they hold it a crime to court.  Cass. 
Since Monarchy fell, that trade is totally decayed, thou must now either Marry at first sight or else march off; as if who should throw the die for a maidenhead, Boy.  Leon. 
Goodness, I think, by and by, we shall be constrained to make love to one another, and so thou shalt be my Mistress, Cassio; for our modern Critics will not allow us womens' flesh, even upon holy-days.  Cass. 
True— for all the Ladies in Florence have a spice of this disease is there no remedy for't, dost think?  Leon. 
None but patience, stay while Fortune turn up her wheel again, and then the Ladies may turn up.  Cass. 
What! their Petticoats?  Leon. 
No— I have not said that yet, I mean may smile upon us more than they do: for now we must not so much as see any Lady.  Cass. 
No— why I hope they will yet admit of a visit in civility?  Leon. 
No— by no means, Cassio, thou must not name such a heresy as a visit, for thou may'st hinder other suitors: Remember that, Boy.  Cass. 
You say right— But who comes here?  Leon. 
I think they are women.  Enter Chrysolina, and Marionetta. ushered by Pantaloni, at sight of Cass. and Leon. they pull down their veils, traverse, etc. Cass. 
Or else two things shuffled in the form of women: dost know 'em Leonarde?  Leon. 
Know 'em, why, who can know them thus, such masquerades under their veils are like nuns at the grate, they may see us, but we cannot see them.  Exeunt Cass. 
True, for there is no way else to discover them, but by smelling; and what smell women have now a days, faith, I cannot tell.  Leon. 
Smell, sayst thou; they have a most acute smell, a woman can now a days smell a man's love to her, before ever possibly he be in love with any; I was rejected by a lady last day, before ever I knew her well; yet such was the imagination that she had of my respects, that she entertained her companions with the relation of my adventures for her— you will think that strange.  Cass. 
— Strange!— No faith, I hope, by progress of time, they will conceive by the mere wind of report, and so we shall have a hopeful race of young Florentine-jennets, as light-heeled as those of Spain, I warrant you: but, prithee, what was that Lady, you talked of?  Leon. 
Why, the little handsome Donazella, what do you call her, on the other side of the river?  Cass. 
Ho— Ho— I know her, a noble Lady effaith, but I am sorry, that she is infected with that disease, she seems to have a spark of wit.  Leon. 
Tush, 'tis become a plague, Cassio, a very plague; dost not know the gentleman, who was rejected of a Lady, having no other evidence of his affection then the carrying of a letter from one of her friends to her, wherein he was recommended to her acquaintance, which as a trophy of her conquests she did impar to her hearts-conquerour— and yet a Lady of admirable qualities.— Men now a days breed their female children, as the Chineses do their wives, or the Grand-signior his concubines, close at home.  Cass. 
But, prithee, didst know that same piece of foppery, who attended them who by his garb would seem to challenge the title of a man?  Leon. 
Know him, why, who does not know him; 'tis Signior Pantaloni, the rich city-gull, whose golden fleece dazzles the eyes of all the Ladies in town, to whose chamber he is almost as welcome as a young bachelor of Divinity, who hath lately past his trials, is to a zealous widow of ten months standing, that would fain repeat her former allegiance, and taste the game again— But come, you shall go along with me to the Lady Chrysolina, there I hope we shall have some favour, if we get access, I mean.  Cass. 
— ay, with all my heart, but that's the question.  Exeunt  

Scaena Quinta.  Enter Pantaloni, with Chrysolina and Marionetta. Pant. 
I take it so indeed, Ladies, you must excuse me if I do you the honour to visit you sometimes; for my mother says, Son, saith she, it is high time you were married— I hope you know my meaning.  Chrys. 
Sir, you shall be welcome.  Pant. 
I hope so indeed:— For, I vow I would never desire a handsomer wife than you are.— I protest, Mistress, you are very handsome, though I say it that should not say it.  Mar. 
You flatter highly, Sir.  Pant. 
Not indeed.  Chrys. 
Well, Sir, as for your visit, I shall admit it; but for marriage— you know—  Pant. 
Ho— I know well enough, you are governed by your friends; but I shall tickle them I warrant you, let me alone for that.  Mar. 
It is the safest way, Sir.  Pant. 
So— then forsooth, since I know the way to your Chamber, I will come and see you every day; now because my mother is sick and taking physic, I must go home and keep company with her, else I'll assure you, I would not leave you thus— farewell.  Exit. Mar. 
You see them Gentlemen, Cassio and Leonardo, as we passed along, Sister?  Chrys. 
But I hope they did not know us, Sister, 'tis not fit we entertain them, they are not matches for us.  Mar. 
But I warrant you, they'll render us a visit shortly.  Chrys. 
I should rather wish they would abstain, Sister, you know our friends will not relish it well; I should be very well content of this Signior Pantaloni for my husband; I hope no body hears us.  Mar. 
True, for although the others may be Gentlemen of good parts, yet I know we are designed for them Signiors; so the Lady Saromanca told me last day.  Chrys. 
And we must follow their advice you know Sister.  Mar. 
Yes indeed, and reason for it.  Enter Manduco hastily. Man. 
Hum— etiam confabulantes inveni? I have it in my pocket, that will afford them new cogitations,  Chrys. 
Mr. Manduco, you are welcome, pray, how does my aunt?  Man. 
I have a little negotiation with you in private; for I am legate from Signior Becabunga, (my sometimes pupil) as more amply shall briefly appear. And how think you— marry thus, here's a letter for you— takes out a Letter out of a tobacco-box.  Chrys. 
I hope he is in good health, Sir.  Man. 
O! yes, he is valetudinary, herein he presents (as I conjecture) his amorous servitude to you both; he will be in Town next week, for I'll assure you he flagitates to see you: I hope you will afford him gracious entertainment— hum— hum—  Chrys. 
He shall be welcome, Sir.  Man. 
I will assure you, Ladies, he is an adolescent of eximious candour and egregious integrity: I have been at much pains and labour in educating him, I may say, ever since his puberty: but now that he is come to the years of intelligency, I have given him over—  Mar. 
He will make us in love with him ere we see him.  Man. 
But, for your further satisfaction, I shall, paucissimis, insinuate to you the method of his education.— Primo, then, when he came under my gubernation, which was about the year of his age, Anno Domini, (let me see) millesimo, sexcente simo, quadragesimo sexto, it being then Leap year; he was, inquam, a very perverse youth, vitiat in his behaviour, knowing nothing but what he had learned amongst the ancillas (what d'you call 'em) Chambermaids.  Chrys. 
Now, Sister, you shall have him anatomised to you.  Man. 
But, so soon as I took him in hand, I did so belabour his na●es with my ferula, that profecto I have whipped him, whipped him thus— for half an hour together, until his abundant lachrymation had moved compassion: but, I knew that was the only way to disciplinate him—  Chrys. 
Indeed Sir—  Man. 
— So, I say, having taught him his Orthographia, Etymologia and Prosodia, having always a fellicitous eye over his behaviour: I did learn him to make his 〈◊〉, not as your Monfieurs do, but more gravely, 〈…〉 how to 〈◊〉, etc. take a Lady by the hands;— do— 〈◊〉 how to kiss,— in this fashion—  Mar. 
A pretty 〈…〉  Man. 
I gave 〈…〉 caution, instructions, and now and 〈…〉 Primo, Not to 〈…〉 Vir sap●●, qui 〈…〉 you are always wisest when you hold your pe●● And then with what gesture to discourse, gravely; 〈…〉 and like a School-man; (for, I have been sometimes Hypodidasealus in the great School of Florence, imo Hypodidasculus, Ladies) but, as I said, I learned him to be concinne and terse in his habit, with hair in the same longitude, as you see mine. Secundo, How to keep a clean mundified nose, not with his sleeve, but with his sudarium, or handkerchief—  Mar. 
He intends to weary us I think.  Man. 
Tertio, As I said— (hoc agatur serio) tertio, as I said, tertio, inquam, to eat his meat with a great deal of circumspection and neatly; that is to say, with one finger and his thumb— thus— Quarto, To contain himself à capite scalpendo; from scratching of his head, (give ear I beseech you, Ladies, for it concerns you.)  Mar. 
He thinks we are his Scholars.  Chrys. 
Peace, Sister, let us hear him out.  Man. 
Quarto, As I said, (take heed) Quinto, I say, and maximè à crepitando & eructando; that is, from emitting ventosities or flatuosities from his concavities: with several other admonitions, according to the dictates of Joannes Sulpitius, and Guilielmus Lillius, my two very good and learned friends—  Mar. 
Will he never make an end?  Man. 
But, above, all, Ladies, for respect to his friends (because I am incarcerate with obligations to all his paternal Relatiosn) I did always exhort him to abstain from tripudiation or danncing, gladiation or fencing, lusitation or gaming, equitation or riding, & sic de caeteris; So that now he is one of the best educate youths in Florence, else Ego operam & oleam perdidi.  Chrys. 
He is very much obliged to you, Sir.  Man. 
Now, I will not molest you with a more ample relation of his good qualifications; but, he is a friend to modesty and chastity, an enemy to superbity, in potu moderatus; but, not andum— he is most locuplete both in argentary and frumentary rents— not given to luxury or venery— no, not at all to venery—  Mar. 
What a tedious Harangue for nothing.  Man. 
But, (to conclude, because now the time is gone) as I said before, as I say now, and I hope your intelligence does comprehend when he comes into Town, I shall concomitate him to your domicile, diversory, chamber, cubicular, or what you please, and— so farewell.  Exit. Chrys. 
What a mere Bedant!  Mar. 
As ever lived, Sister, I cannot love him.  Chrys. 
Peace, Sister, let us appear civil before him; for, he is employed by that Gentleman B●●ab●●g●'s friends, to sound our humours I warrant you—  
And what our friends have ordained, we will do,  
What e'er it be, there's reason for it too.  Exeunt.  

Scaena Sexta.  Enter Arabella sola, as at Siena, having got intelligences of the Robels victory. Ar.— 
TOo true— I feared it always;— now frail woman,  
Has thou no eyes? Art thou not sensible  
Already of our slavery?— Barbare,  
A Florentine, a professed enemy  
To all Siennese, will become our Master.  
— But hold— imagine 〈◊〉 Marciano,  
As gods know, and I fear, a 〈◊〉,  
Consequently thy heart in 〈◊〉 with him,  
— Pray, what wouldst do? Resolve, poor Arabella,  
Wouldst not go search him? or wouldst rather stay  
Thou at Sienna here, he, God knows where.  
Love prompts the first, honour pers●des the last,  
This fear advises that hope strongly presses;  
Fear tests me, I should err; for, may be he  
Whom in prosperity, I did 〈◊〉 esteem,  
May now forget me too, (a 〈◊〉 our Sex  
Ofttimes commit more through infirmity  
Then maliced yet, were I assured he were  
Prisoner in Florence, I'd no more debate,  
But search and find him, at whatever rate.  Exit.   


Actus Secundus. Scaena Prima.  Enter Marciano, a boy with him as in an Inn. 
— THis Inn is good— now late— I might have here  
Convenient lodging, if I durst but stay—  
— Sirrah, go see my horses—  Exit Boy. A chair set out. 
Good gods! is't come to this?— must we behold  
Rebellion in its full Epitasis?  
No antidote to save th'empoisoned State?—  
— Those forces, I had rallyed, now undone,  
Routed, quite routed— what shall I resolve—  
I've overcome a tedious voyage— O!  
If I could now have but one half hours rest,  
That with good news from my Prince would refresh  
Both body and soul— But yet how can my eyes  
Receive their lawful tribute, when my heart  
Is tossed 'twixt hope and love?— hope bids me live  
To see a blessed Catastrophe yet to all  
Our present tumults— love persuades me rather  
To die, then see the virtuous Arabella,  
(Although unkind to me, as yet despising  
My ardent suit) become a prey to such  
As know no love, but in their tyranny.  
O heavenly, divine creature— would thou know sits down  
My present flames— were't possible those sig●hs  
My troubled heart sends forth, might be condensed  
Into one body:— sure they could inform  
Those very stones with breath, those stones should move:  
Those stones should speak; and as they are become  
The only witnesses of my complaint,  
So be the true Ambassadors of my sorrow;  
To show the virtuous Arabella— that—  
Thus— for— her love— takes a nap.  Enter boy hastily. 
My Lord— the enemy— the enemy— Fly— Fly— Fly.  Exit boy running. Marciano bolts out of his chair. 
Fly! Fly! avaunt with that base cowardly gibberish;  
That Algebra of honour; which had never  
Been named, if all had equal courage— what?  
I fly! Poor rogue, had as good bid me die. draws  
I'll force my way, or make a noble end,  
Valour does sometimes humane wit transcend.  Enter Soldiers, swords drawn, etc. 1. Soul. 
This way— 'tis he— take quarter.  Marc. 
Quarter!— no slaves— I'll see your entrails first.  
Thus Dogs—  fight, Sould. falls back, Marciano pursues. Enter again hastily. 
The hounds are now at a bay—  
— No way t'escape— fortune, if not me,  
Commiserate at least my Prince— I prize not  
My life, if I must die, transform my soul  
Into some loyal breast,— I die contented.  Enter Soul, as before. 
There again— villains, are you so bold  
— This Sword shall tame you—  falls back as before, Marciano pursues. A noise within. Enter Borasco, Soldiers with them, Marciano prisoner, Bor. 
Sir, your noble courage hath obliged our care,  
The terms of your surrender shall be observed  
Faithfully— now to horse—  Marc. 
I do obey, Sir, for with such as you  
A word does more▪ than oaths with cowards do.  Exeunt omnes.  

Scaena Secunda.  Enter Manduco, with Signior Becabunga, knock at the door, etc. Man. 
HO— who is within there?  Boy. 
Your servant Gentlemen.  Enter Boy. Man. 
Is the Lady Marionetta within?  Boy. 
Yes Sir, Pray what are you, who demands?  Man. 
Why, here is Signior Becabunga newly come to town— But hark you, is she occupied?  Boy. 
How Sir.  Man. 
Profane Fellow— I mean, is she not busy— that is to say, at leisure?  Boy. 
O, yes— please you walk in.  Man. 
Yes— yes— heus— ingrediamur.  Exeunt. Enter again at the other end, chairs set. Boy. 
Please you to walk here a little, while I go can the Ladies  Exit. Man. 
Remember now, when you are in private to propone matrimony with a great deal of ceremony, and for your compliments, you may call her the Lady that triumphs in the Coach-box of your affections, a bewitching Siren, a beautiful Tha●, and so forth, as occasion offers. Praise her hair, her eyes, her ears, her breasts, etc. There is abundance of choice epithets to be had; you may say her face is like a Print-book of divers characters, that puzzles the reader, her nose like the style of a Dyal, her eyes like Stars, her hair like Gold, her teeth like Ivory, her veins like silk, and her breasts like milk, and so forth, as I said before:— you'll remember on this now.  Bec. 
Yes, yes, I warrant you, I shall remember— let me see now, her breasts, her shoulders, her toes, her fingers, her nails and her nose— But hark you, must I say nothing of her clothes?  Man. 
How come you to 〈…〉  Bec. 
Why? her nose makes me remember on it.  Man. 
— So— so— come, fall upon the  
Ladies— go— I say.  Enter Chrysolina, Marionetta, Bec. Salutes. &c Bec. 
Ladies, I am indeed glad to see you now.  Man. 
Ladies, I am your devotionated devotionary.  Mar. 
You are welcome to Town Sir.  Bec. 
Protest, Ladies, I am your humble servant.  Man. Man prompts him behind his back 
As before, nam coelum non aniarum mutas.  Bec. 
As before, nam coelos non animus mutat.  Man. 
You are wrong— Say— I did long vehemently to see you— as one in childbed.  Bec. 
I did long vehemently to see you in childbed.  Man. 
A mere brutum animal. ●  Bec. 
What's the matter, Sir, did not I say very well now.  Man. retires in a rage Becabunga follows him Man. 
No— it was altogether sinistruous, I have effo●iate the treasure of my brain in educating you,— and yet for all that you are a mere ignoramus.  Bec. 
O— I will do well enough yet— Pray, tell me what I should say, for the Ladies are waitting upon me.  Man. 
No— I will compliment them myself— speak not you— ne vel unum gru.  
Ladies, This gentleman is newly arrived at Florence the desuetude of amorous conversation, with the assnetude of rural exercises have so, as I may say, confounded his intellectuals, that if he hesitate in the pronunciation, he hopes you will merely attribute it to his campestriall, trimestriall peregrination.  Chrys. 
We not only excuse you, Sir, but likewise account ourselves honoured by your visit— Pray sit down Sir.  Man. 
Yes, yes, without ceremony.  Bec. 
Why— I think, you are silent, Madam.  Bec. sits down by M●● Man sits betwixt the Ladies. Mar. 
I love not to prate Sir.  Bec. 
Nor I either.  Man. 
Nay so long as he was under 〈◊〉 I did labour to coerce in him that loquacious verbosity, or rather ve● bosious loquacity, with which most part of the perverse temporary adolescency is contaminate, for I hate garrulity, as I am facundious, I do.  Bec. 
I vow, Madam, you are very bony, since I see you last— Man. takes a pipe of tobacco. O, I have had rare pastime in the covotry this harvest, brave hunting, and hawking of hares; and but the last day coming in to the Town, I took a couple of them by the way. O, Madam, you will not believe what brave sport we have now. I wonder why you have stayed in city all this while?  Mar. 
What should we have done in the country, Sir, hunted, and hawked as you do?  Man. 
I hope this does not offend you, Madam. Chrys. Not at all, Sir.  Man. Smokes in Chrys. face Smokes in Mar. face. 
I should be loath to offend any man, but I am without ceremony.  Mar. 
Use your own liberty, Sir.  Man. 
Nay, I do it to draw down reuthm from my brain, with which my lungs are much infested: for, d'you see, 'tis a very salutiferous herb: it disposes the mind for study, and moves in several places; I will show you what by its help I made last night; marry a sonnet upon a Lady, whose beauty had almost tempted me to affect her.— She walk'd ●sings. Nay; hold, I have a good voice for writing, but not for reading. I will read then.  

Sonnet  
She walked along with such a grace,  
And such a catching eye.  
That, had her Masque not hid her face  
Then— certainly—  
In some degree,  
I had become a lover certainly.  
I had become  
Both blind, and dumb,  
For Cupid's thundering dart  
Had pierced my heart.  
It had— by my facundity.  
But I more prudent was then so  
as soon as she drew nigh  
I turned my back to her, and lo  
She glided by.  
Immediately.  
Then I began to ruminate, and say,  
Whit is woe— man?  
Even no— man.  
Why then should we love her,  
Seing we are above her,  
And she, at best, man's hacqueney?   Man. arises. 
— But hark you, Madam▪ I believe 'tis now time we should leave them to their private confaabulation.  Chrys. 
Yes Sir, with all my heart.  Man. 
One word then with this Gentleman, and I am gone— Heus, be attentious and circumspectious in your be aviour, remember on those elegantes phrases I taught you when you came in: so I will retire, and 〈◊〉 you for a space.  Exit with Chrys. Bec. 
Now we 〈…〉 Madam, I hope you know my errand.  Mar. 
Not well Sir.  Bec. 
I am sure, my Father 〈…〉 the Lady Saromanca speak to you, or else I am 〈…〉  Mar. 
But you had 〈…〉 my Uncle, Sir; I am at his disposal.  Bec. 
You are very modest.  Offers to kiss, she refuses. Mar. 
And I hope that is a virtue 〈…〉 maid, Sir▪  Bec. 
As I am a virgin, it is; I love you all the better for it: and I'll assure you so long as you are modest, you can never be impudent.  Enter Boy, 
Madam, Signior Pantaloni is below; shall I tell him you are within?  Mar. 
Yes, yes, by all 〈◊〉, you must not deny us to such a Gentleman of quality as he is.  Bec. 
Signior Pantaloni, say you, my old comrade, I would be very glad to see him.  Mar. 
He is in suit of my Sister, a Gentleman of a great estate, I am much for the match; I'll go cause my Sister come hither.  At the other end enter Signior Pantaloni▪ Bec. salutes him. Bec. 
Signior Pantaloni!  Pant. 
Signior Becabunga— welcome to Town in good faith.— You are very gallant.  Surveys Bec. clothes. Bec. 
— It is my winter suit, Sir, it cost my Father a good deal of money, more than the price of ten bolls of wheat, or barley, I warrant you.  Pant. 
I am sure, you have had brave sport in the country all this while.  Bec. 
O yes; you know my dog Springo?  Pant. 
Yes, and Gasto, gray bitcho, brounhoundo, and all the tribe of them: I knew them all since they were puppets, and yourself too.  Bec. 
Why, I will let him lose with any his match in Tuscany.  Pant. 
O what a fool was I, might not I have been with you all this while, if it had not been for this baggagely Mistress of mine, Madam Chrysolina, call you her, whom my Mother will have me to woo whether I will or not, I may say; I had been in the country all this harvest.— But, what shall I tell you, have not I learned since I see you to dance forsooth frisks about— that's a coupee— that's a circumflex pas: that's a transverse pas etc.  Bec. 
O brave Pantaloni!  Enter Manduco leading the Ladies. Pant. 
ay, but I can fence too— zeest— zeest— zeest  Thrusts at Bec. Pant. 
Ladies, I hope I have not comed in into you as I may say intrusiously, or intrusively.  Discover the Ladies. Chrys. 
Not at all Sir, you are very welcome, pray how does your Lady mother, and your Sisters?  Pant. 
All in good health, Madam, at your service— Signior Manduco, you are welcome to Town.  Man. 
Signior Pantaloni, I am yours integrally, and quasi exulto in the prosperity of this our congression.  Enter Boy. 
Madam, the two Gentlemen you call Casio and Leonardo desire to see you.  Mar. 
Go tell them we are not within.  Chrys. 
Tell them we are not at leisure, Sirrah.  Exit Boy. Man. 
What are they?  Pant. 
Ranting, young blades, like the times, I warrant you, two fellows, that have frequented all your Stageplays in Italy, and I heard our Chaplain say; and my Sister too (which is more) that Plays were very unlawful and impious.—  Man. 
Plays are indeed profane, scelerate, abominable, yea, abominably abominable— which I will maintain multis argumentis.  Pant. 
Besides, they are great mockers of such Gentlemen as us, who are better than themselves.  Man. 
Are they of the Duke's party?  Pant. 
Yes, I warrant you.  Man. 
Hoc satis est— odi totam gentem: Ladies, you do well not to converse with them— but no more of them: Ladies, what would you think of a perambulation in this calid, aestivous season?  Chrys. 
But whether shall we walk, Sir?  Pant. 
Any where, Madam▪ I shall wait upon you.  Bec. 
And, I shall stick close to my Lady, forsooth.  Mar. 
we'll have a coach then.  Bec. 
By all means— call a Coach.  within▪ Coach, etc. Man. 
Let us then pass the Pomeridian hours in obambulation: for I am defatigate with session.  Exeunt omnes.  

Scaena Tertia.  Enter Borasco with Arabella prisoner. Ar. 
GOod my Lord, for the respect to honour,  
Prove courteous to a poor distressed Lady,  
And now your prisoner—  Bor. 
My prisoner— Not, by this hand, so much,  
As I am yours.  kisses her hand. Ar. 
I should belie my passion, Sir, if I,  
Next to the public destiny of my Country,  
Did not resent my own calamity;  
But yet your undeserved clemency  
Does moderate my misfortunes—  Bor. 
How! undeserved— when even Cannibals,  
Tamed by the aspect of your radiant eye,  
Would quit their barbarous, superstitious rites,  
And offer, what their gods usurp, to you.  Ar. 
Sir, I owe much, I must confess, to nature,  
But your applause inflames the bill more high,  
'Tis now our common fate to be imprisoned,  
But not so common to be thus respected.  Bor. 
Lady, what the Lord Barbaro hath 〈…〉  
I hold it always justice— but because  
Your face does speak you one, whom all should honour,  
That e'er have known what love is, I regrate  
This your confinement; the causes of which  
Are only known to his excellency,  Enter jailor. 
Time will discover all— but here he comes  
Who must be your guardian— Sirrah—  Jayl. 
Your pleasure, my Lord?  Bor. 
By order from the Senate, you're commanded  
To take this Lady in your custody—  
See you respect her, Sirrah,— let her not  
Be used, as other ordinary prisoners.  
Mark what I say, you varlet— serve her well.  Jayl. 
I shall, forsooth, my Lord, she shall be as well used as any Lady can be in prison.  Bor. 
Madam, I'll visit you sometimes, and see  
You treated, like an honourable Lady.  
This Fellow shall have special care of you,  
Command him at all times; and for my service,  
Pray spare it not— farewell— she is my prisoner,  aside. 
I shall have fit time yet t'impart my flames.  Exit. Jayl. 
Now, forsooth, Madam, will you be pleased to walk— I'll conduct you to as neat, a wel-swipped, wel-trimmed Room, as you can have in many parts of Florence: My Lord Borasco, is a very obliging Gentleman, and I'll assure you, he loves to be courteous; I will have a care of you for his sake; my Wife, and I (I must have you acquaint with her, Madam) for she is one of the lovingest, dutiful, old Sluts, that you have known—  Ar. 
Come then, let's go—  Jayl. 
— My Wife and I, I say, Madam, shall serve you to a hair, for she loves to be courteous, as well as myself,  Ar. 
Where are my Countrymen lodged? I rather  
Be with them, as elsewhere—  Jayl. 
A Pisan, Madam?  Ar. 
No— a Siennese.  
There are many 〈◊〉 Nobles in my custody.  Ar. 
The Lord Marciano: since 'tis my misfortune  
To be his Fellow-prisoner.  Jayl. 
Madam, you shall see him, for I love to be courteous, especially to strangers, Madam▪  Exeunt  

Scaena Quarta.  Enter Chrysolina, Marionetta, as in their Chamber. Mar. 
How did you like our last entertainment, Sister?  Chrys. 
Indifferently well; I love that same Gentleman, Signior Besabunga: he is none of your ranting young Gallants, but a sober youth as is in all Florence.  Mar. 
'Tis true, but yet—  Chrys. 
— What— done't you love him, Sister? you are a fool if you let such a fair occasion slip— such a fine Woodcock is not start every day:— he hath a great Estate, Sister, remember that.  Mar. 
'Tis all true—  Chrys. 
ay, and he will not readily spend it; his Tutor, Manduco, hath bred him very sparingly— honest man, I protest he is an honest man:— yea, a very honest man.  Mar. 
He is indeed—  Chrys. 
And then, Sister, you may have a very contented life with him; he is a good-natured, sweet youth, he will give you all your will, and I'll assure you that is a great property in a man.  Mar. 
— And what think you of your own Suitor, Pantaloni, all this while?  Chrys. 
Why— I know not what I shall say of him yet.  Enter Cassio, Leonardo, quietly. Mar. discovers them. Mar. 
Goodness! how came they here?  Leon. 
Nay, my pretty Daphne, fly not my embraces, I know we have surprised you now.  Chrys. starts back, amazed. Cass. 
What pretty intrigue of love was the object of your discourse, pray let us be sharers with you in your entertainment.  Leon. 
My life for't, you were devising some stratagem, how to cross the designs of some affectionate Votary: you have no pity on our Sex now a days, Ladies.  Cass. 
None, indeed, if you were not visible in this age, than we should not love: but, when we once conceive flames of affection for you, in lieu of fomenting us in our delights, you make love a disease to us by your unmerciful nicety, which deprives us altogether of your conversation: this is sad, Ladies; trust me 'tis sad.  Mar. 
You wrong our Sex, Sir.  Chrys. 
But, d'you hear, Sir, seriously I entreat you would forbear such visits; for, you will but give people occasion to talk of what we never thought on.  Mar. 
And besides, Sir, those who challenge power over us will be offended at this entertainment: we entreat you then, Gentlemen, to leave us.  Cass. 
to Mar. Farewell then, cruel beauty, but do not imagine such a harsh repulse will stop the current of my boundless love; absence shall never prove so fatal: but while my breath shall demonstrate that I live, this heart, this speech and this hand shall demonstrate that I love you. Farewell bright star of my fancy.  Exit. Leon. 
to Chrys. Such a fair Lady cannot be so cruel, I will not take this answer as a repulse, but rather construe it the most favourable way. Farewell, time, I hope, shall melt the severity of your resolutions.  Exit. Chrys. 
Farewell my ranting gamesters, we are not meat for your mouths.— What foolish people have we in our house, Sister, to admit them Gentlemen?— why, they came in upon us while we were serious.  Mar. 
Yes, Sister, and if one of us had been commenting on the Pisspot, it had been all one to them, when doors are left open.  Chrys. 
And knowing that our friends cannot endure them, they should, at least, in conscience, have denied them access. O! how I shall baffle them same wenches that did not look to our Chamber door better.  Mar. 
I protest, Sister, we must marry quickly, otherways we shall be constantly infested with such importunate Suitors; and that, in my opinion, is no great pleasure to a woman, it distracts their spirits, me thinks.  Chrys. 
You say right, Sister, we shall never be well, until we be even well married.  Exeunt.  

Scaena Quinta.  Enter Borasco, with Arabella in prison. Bor. 
LAdy, I have at length obtained that favour  
Of the Lord Barbaro, you may go abroad  
To any part o'th' city that you please.  
Providing you return hither at night—  Ar. 
My Lord, I thank you kindly, I find you 〈◊〉  
Exceeded in your favours, since I came  
Into this prison: you have (without flattery)  
Even overacted courtesy to me—  Bor. 
I plead not so for every one, but you  
May challenge my respects:— the power 〈…〉  
As captain of the Guards, shall be employed  
To serve you, Madam, as you please command me.  Are▪ 
Then pray, my Lord, 'mongst others, grant me this,  
To see the Lord Marciano.  Bor. 
Madam, I shall conduct you to his Chamber▪  
Or, if you please, he shall come hither to you.  Ar. 
No, I will go to him.  Exeunt.  

Sceaena Sixta.  At the other end enter Marciano, with him the Jailor, Mar. 
A Lady, sayst thou?  Jayl. 
Yes, my Lord, a young Lady.  Marc. 
A Lady, and a Siennese,— strange!  
Who can this be!— but now I have a thought,  
Yet I dare not express it— can it be!  
No, sure— impossible— prithee begone,  
And leave me to myself—  Jayl. 
She will be here by and by, my Lord.  Exit Jayl. Marciano solus. Marc. 
Well, who this Lady is, I cannot think,  
But in a dream:— O, may I yet imagine,  
'Tis she— Nay, hold— my hope cannot support  
Such a strong thought of bless! I shall offend  Enter Arabella quietly. 
Even in thinking—  Marciano discovers her. 
— A cheat— a mere cheat— eyes do not gull me.  
The Lady Arrabella!— No, unless  
I hear her talk,— I'll think it still a phantasm  
— Speak fair ghost— is it thee?  Approaches to her. Ar. 
Marciano, it is I, the unfortunat Arabella.  Marc. 
Then it is no more I— O— how I am  Embraces her. 
Transported! how that divine voice hath ravished  
My duller senses!— is't possible, you weep  
In sympathy with my afflictions?  Ar. 
Yea altogether.  Marc. 
Good gods! it is she— O does Arabella▪  
Who, while I was in full prosperity,  Embraces again. 
Did frown upon my Passions: stoop so low,  
As see me now in misery— unless  
She mean, as children, with their hobby-horses,  
T'unravell me, that she may thereby see  
What stuff I do contain:— dare I presume  
To think that love to me hath brought you hither?  Ar. 
Most true— nought else—  Marc. 
Fair innocence, whose presence does revive  
My spirits in this agony of sorrows,  
While I am cooped up, as a parrot, here,  
Expecting every day, when Atropos  
Shall cut my thread of life; that you should deign  
To visit me! had your fair hand dispatched  
One word in post, it had been too great honour.  
But thus to be thy own Ambassador,  
●Tis a bewitching happiness; no tongue  
Can well express my passion— good, my stars  
Preserve me from an ecstasy!—  Ar. 
You wrong me, Marciano, I left Sienna,  
Hearing of your bad success; thence I came  
To Luca; there not finding you, to Florence,  
To see if I could purchase your enlargement,  
Either by art, or favour: but no sooner  
Was I come hither, when I was suspected  
As one, who keep't secret intelligence  
With the Duke's party here, and so committed—  Marc.— 
Committed— how!— committd— heathenish wretches!  
Barbarous Rebels! to imprison one,  
Whom Indians had spared,— By Mar;— unheard of  
Even amongst Turks, and Tartars!  Ar. 
Nay forbear,  
I am not so unfortunate, as you think,  
The Senate meaning thus to punish me  
Have rather cherished me:— your company  
May well allay my griefs.  Marc. 
By this— and this—  Kisses her hand. 
You honour me too much, but which is sad,  
I never shall be able to repay  
That love to you, which I owe, seeing every hour  
I do expect my sentence—  Ar. 
Alas! harsh fates! O frail reward of courage!  Enter Jailor. Jayl. 
Madam, my duty bears me to conduct you to your  
Chamber, it is now high time.  Ar. 
My Lord, adieu, I shall see you to morrow.  Exit with Jail. Marciano solus. Marc. 
Farewell, my souls delight,— O unkind Stars!  
A fit theatre for such entertainment!  
An emblem of our love!— But I exclaim  
Unseasonably.— O how prettily  
Fortune hath tied me, as a Shrovetide bird,  
While Saturn, Mars and Cupid level at me:  
— A fig for all her tricks— I scorn her frown,  
She can win nothing, while my hearts my own.  Exit.  

Scaena Septima.  Enter Strenuo with the Jailor. Stren. 
IS he sentenced already?  Jayl. 
No, not yet; but he must die.  Stren. 
Well— let him go, 'twill learn others to be wise, friend▪ for, Soldiers have but shrewd arrears paid them now for their service.  Jayl. 
I am really sorry for him; as I am true Florentine he is a noble Genteman, and loves to be courteous—  Stren. 
But, d'you hear, Mr. Jailor, shall we have t'other cup the night?  Jayl. 
I— at the Sienna Tavern, Signior Strenuo, where we may have a cup of good Canary; I am for you there, Signior Strenuo, and will spend my checquin most heartily, Signior; for, I love to be frolic as well as courteous, especially with strangers, Signior.  Stren. 
— Come then, brave old Boy, we'll have a cup o'th' best on't. Will you go along now and I'll give you your morning draught?  Jayl. 
No— not now; I must wait upon my Lord Borasco, he sent word that he would be here by and by.  Stren. 
Farewell then— at night— old Harry— at night.  Exit Stren. Jayl. 
Yes, yes, I shall not fail you Signior, I warrant you. This same Strenuo is a notable fellow, as ever I knew of a Siennese: he loves to be courteous, effaith.  Enter Borasco with Soldiers. Bor. 
See it be done, I say, the Senate means  
To whip most of your stubborn Siennese,  
By his example— sirrah, Jailor.  Jayl. 
My Lord.  Bor. 
My Lord Marciano is condemned to die—  Jayl. 
The time, my Lord—  Bor. 
Within six days, no more respite—  
Here are the General's orders for it.  
— Sirrah, look to your prisoner, watch him well.  
I'll double all the ordinary guards  
About the prison; place my Sentinels  
In every corner—  Jayl. 
I shall watch him, my Lord, I'll assure you,  Bor. 
As you will answer us: now he shall die.  
Although he hath escaped sometimes before,  
His worship shall play fast and lose no more.  Exeunt omnes.  

Scaena Octava.  Enter Chrysolina, Marionetta, as in their Chamber. Chrys. 
I Profess ingenuously, Sister, I am ashamed of it.  Mar. 
And I likewise; for people give easily credit to any report now a days.  Mar. 
Let's rather be uncivil as admit them next time, Sister: I love no such company, I'll assure you.  Enter Signior Pantaloni. Pant. 
Ladies, I am come to wait upon you again— according to my duty— as in duty I am bound to undertake.  Chrys. 
Sir, you are very welcome, I hope your mother is well.  Pant. 
Yes, forsooth, Madam, how does yourself?  Chrys. 
In very good health, Sir, I thank you.  Pant. 
I am very glad— But, hark you, Madam— one word in private with you— to Mar. This by your leave Mistress.  leads her aside. 
Hark you me now— my mother and I were sitting by the fireside last night, as it is our custom, you know, in the winter-nights after supper; and— I do not know what we were talking of: but, amongst the rest I remember, if I have not forgot,— that she said— she said, says she— Now— whether this be true or not, I cannot tell; you know best yourself: but, I am sure she said it.  Chrys. 
What, pray Sir?  Pant. 
Now— I vow— if it were true, I would be as glad of it, as ever I was of my breakfast in a cold day:— for, I protest ingenuously, I am sure you know, I love to be serious.  Chrys. 
Pray what's the matter, Sir?  Pant. 
Why— I vow I know you would blush now, else I would tell you it.  Chrys. 
I beseech you resolve me, Sir.  Pant. 
I vow, I can hardly do it now, I am so stupefied— with the rarity of the object of your person.  Kisses her hand. Chrys. 
I can have no longer patience—  Pan. 
— Nay, hold— here's it now— I hope you will not tell it again; for it was told me as a great secret— why says she— but, as I told you, I know not surely if it be true or not: but, shall I tell you what I answered— Marry, Lady mother, says I— I fear you are but scorning me.  Chrys. 
But, what was it that she said, Sir?  Pant. 
Why— I vow— she— even said— that— you loved me— and O but I was blithe—  Chrys. 
Hum— and is that all? keep such a long discourse for nothing.  Pant. 
O!— I hope you are not angry.  Chrys. 
No, no, Sir.  Mar. 
Why— you might have said all that in three words, Sir.  Pant. 
Nay— but prithee tell me if it be true: for, 〈◊〉 it be not, I shall win two Rials from my mother: for, she and I laid a wager upon it, and I am come here for nothing else but to be resolved of it.  Mar. 
Well— then, you have win, Sir.  Pant. 
Nay— do not mock me now; I profess, I had rather lose a dozen of Rials before she should not love me: for, I am sure— as sure as this glove is upon my hand— I love her.  Enter Boy. Boy. 
Madam, dinner is ready.  Chrys. 
We come. Signior, will you dine with us, and— afterwards we shall talk of that at more leisure.  Pant. 
With all my heart, fair Ladies, If you please, I will sup with you, and lie with you too— I love your company so well.  Exeunt omnes.   


Actus Tertius, Scaena Prima.  Arabella sola appears sitting at a table as in her Chamber, etc. Ar. 
LOaden with cares: overwhelmed with misfortunes!  
Can female shoulders bear my heavy crosses—  
I left my native country of Sienna.  
To find out Marciano here at Florence:  
Now have I found him: but O! how, God knows,  
And I too well perceive:— unhuman fates,  
Whether, ah! whether will you hurry me?  
No end to your severity:— Ay me!  
What have I done? pray let me know my crime:  
As yet I plead strong innocence: unless  
It be a crime to love: pray show my faults,  
Or else suspend my pains—  
Now (which is sad) I can scarce have repose  
For sighs and cares: and when I once awake▪  
Borasco, therein my true Jailor, waits me,  
With fresh solicitations:— thus my heart  
Is rent in pieces; th'one half sorrow claims,  
The other love— Ay me! what shall I do?  weeps Enter Strenuo Str. 
she's discontent already: but those news  
I bring, will make her sadder: I dare scarce  
Declare them, lest she swoon— Madam.  Ar. 
Welcome, dear Strenuo, pray how does thy Lord?  Str. 
Well, Madam,— but e'er long, if fates prevent not—  Ar. 
How— that again,— me thinks, thou looks not cheerful  
As thou were wont,— how does my Lord, I say?  Str. 
(If I dare tell you) he's condemned to die.  Ar. 
— To die!— Ay me— be merciful, and kill me  
Good Strenuo, honest friend— prithee dispatch—  Str. 
Stay Madam, you are mad—  Ar. 
— Condemned to die—  
O how my heart strings, by that pin of grief,  
As by an unexpert musicians hand,  
Who strives to raise his Lute to highest notes,  
Tuned up above the nick begin to crack.  Str. 
Forbear, fair, Lady, 'tis no time to weep,  
Now we must do; now we must muster all  
Our wits to plot his escape—  Ar. 
As how— Alas fond Strenuo:— escape!  
Dream not on that, rather invent some means,  
How we may die together, like true lovers.  Str. 
Madam, you wrong yourself, I'll undertake.  
By your assistance, to effect my purpose.  Ar. 
By my assistance, prithee doubt not that,  
What will I not do, if I can, to save him?  Str. 
Then, Madam, here is aquafortis for you.  
Look— this will do it, Lady, this applied  
To th'iron grate o'th' window, will consume it  
In a short space; then in the silent night  
By help of a small rope he may escape.  Ar. 
'Tis well, but all depends on th' aquafortis,  
I cannot safely carry it to his chamber;  
That Cerberus, that ugly cat-e'yd Jailor  
Will sure discover me—  Str. 
Nay, as for him,  
I'll keep the villain tippling all the while  
He never shall suspect you; I've provided  
A soldier's habit for my Lord, in which garb  
The devil himself shall never smell him out.  
I'll so disguise him:— go good Madam, go  
Tender my love to him, and press him by  
All means to use it quickly I'll wait on him  
At th'hour appointed—  Ar. 
I go, pray heavens, it may succeed.  Str. 
Fear not.  Exeunt severally.  

Scaena Secunda.  Enter Cassio and Leonardo. Cass. 
SO— you intent thither again, Leonardo, you were highly entertained, Boy.  Leon. 
And I believe, Cassio, you had but small encouragement.  Cass. 
Small encouragement indeed; but you must know, love is never in its height, so long as limitate within the sphere of reason: I love her so much the more that she appears unreasonable, as you call it.  Leon. 
But, aside, here comes Don Quixot and Sancho Pancho.  Enter Becabunga and Pantaloni discoursing. Cass. 
'Slid, let's accost them.  Leon. 
No, let's first observe their behaviour.  Pant. 
Say you so: O! I long furiously to travel.  Bec. 
I mar'le you delay so long.  Pant. 
Why, I vow my trunk hath been twice a shipboard for Marseilles, and myself at Ligorn, but, I vow my mother weeped so, that I could not find in my heart to leave her.  Bec. 
And it may be the Lady Chrysolina would not permit you.  Pant. 
O— no; I know she would wait upon me some half year, or so yet while I saw France and came back again; although I vow, she's a pretty, pretty, pretty Gentlewoman, as I know betwixt me and her.  Bec. 
You will have her yet, I warrant you.  Pant. 
I hope so; for I am sure she loves me, or else I have no skill.  Bec. 
Does she so, and that is some encouragement though.  Cass. 
Prithee let's interrupt them, enough of such discourse in all conscience.  Leon. 
Yes, now we will accost them— Gentlemen, the general character of you in this City, hath rendered us ambitious of your acquaintance.  Cass. 
Signior Becabunga, you are most auspiciously returned to the City.  Bec. 
Your humble servant, Sir; your extollation of me is undeserved.  Leon. Leon. to Pant. 
Sir, I do but what all ingenuous persons should do, no question you are conscious of your own merits.  Cass. takes Jac. aside. Pant. 
Sir, the faculty of my expression— is not capable to entertain— as I may say— or express the motion of my affection, to uphold— as I may say, acquaintance, familiarity with you— I hope you understand me, Sir.  Leon. 
Yes, and admires your wit too, Sir.  Pant. 
Sir, I am your very humble servant; I hope I need not back it with an oath; name, nemo tenetur (you know) jurare in suum detrimentum.  Cass. 
Good, and what said they?  Bec. 
Why, they said you were a couple of idle youths.  Leon. 
How!— Cass. Prithee let me hear out this discourse.  Pant. 
— Ho, ho, very true, I protest I think they wronged you: for, for my own part, as I am Gentleman, I think you are very civil, although I say it in your face.  Cass. 
Good, and no more prithee?  Bec. 
Nay, now I have not leisure, Manduco will be seeking me through all the Town; O he will chide me, if he find me not.  Cass. 
Hang him a Loggar-head.  Bec. 
A Loggar-head, I would not for never so much he heard you say that; he thinks himself no small man I'll assure you.  Adieu, 
Sir— Pantaloni, will you go?  Exit, Bec: Pant. 
Anon, Sir— Gentlemen, I shall be very willing and desirous that we may entertain our present conversation willingly: and, for my part, I have the honour to drink one cup of wine with you. I will wait upon you at any time or place convenient, if there be no lawful impediment why these parties may not be joined— Oh, I crave you pardon, Gentlemen,— Lapsus linguae non est atramentum. Farewell.  Exit. Leon. 
Now, go thy ways, Signior Pantaloni, thou art this day as complete a gull as lives in Florence, without disparagement of any Gentleman whatsoever.  Cass. 
He hath discovered all to me, Leonardo, I never read of such humourous Ladies.  Leon. 
And they will be so always, while we can render them gulls despicable in their sight.  Cass. 
Let's think then how to affront them.  Leon. 
I'll rack my invention, but I will set them by the ears together.  Cass. 
That were good, if you can do it handsomely.  Leon. 
I'll do my best; come— let's go consult upon it.  Exeunt.  

Scaena Tertia.  Enter Merciano, Arabella. Marc. 
Persuade me not, I cannot but abhor  
Such a preposterous attempt—  Ar. 
My Lord—  Marc. 
Dear soul of sweetness, do not torture me  
With fruitless plots— within four days I die—  
Should I escape and leave you prisoner—  
— Think, think on that—  Ar. 
You may escape, my Lord;  
I have brought hither t'you, some aquafortis  
Which your friend Strenuo gave me this morning;  
You may apply it to the grate o'th'window—  Marc. 
And what then—  Ar. 
Your friend assures me ' hath a Soldier's habit  
In readiness for you. This same aquafortis  
Will do the business— quick, apply it quickly—  
Look to yourself, now it grows late, my Lord.  Marc. 
May I trust this—  Ar. 
You may, indeed, 'tis true.  
Now, now, or never, you must soon apply it—  
This night you may as easily escape.  Marc. 
I'll try this trick for once—  Ar. 
Fear not the Jailor; he is foxed already,  
So Strenuo did assure me—  
Apply it then, and if you don't escape—  Marc. 
I'll undertake it then— leave this with me,  
I'll go about it presently— mean time,  
I'll cause put all in order— you must return  
Within an hour hence:— and cause Strenuo  
Be ready at the window—  Ar. 
Fear not that.  Marc. 
Farewell then.  Ar. 
May my choicest prayers assist you.  Exit Marciano. Arabella sola. 
And if this fail, what can a woman's wit  
Invent, that will succeed?— Alas, I fear,  
Still, still, I fear, while he be safely hence.  
I have used all means, nothing left untried  
For his enlargement; yet could not prevail.  
— O love!— who can define thee— hopes and cares,  
In constant balance; hovering up and down—  
Here's a poor heart, within this troubled breast;  
That like a malefactor at the bar,  
Trembles at this design:— O powerful love—  
What hast thou not persuaded me to do—  Sings behind the arras. 
— But hark, a song, I will give ear to it,  
I know Borasco hath ordained it for me—  

Song.  

1.  
So, so,  
Lo Lilies fade, before the Roses show  
Themselves in bow-dye, summers-livery.  
Feasting the curious eye,  
With choice variety,  
While as before  
We did adore  
Narcissus in his prime.  
Now Roses do delight  
The nicer appetite:  
Such is the vast disparity of time.   

2.  
So, so,  
One woman fades, before another know  
What 'tis to be in love; but in a trice  
All men do sacrifice  
To th'latter, and despise  
Her, whom before  
They did adore  
Like Lilies in their prime.  
Since now her sparkling eyes  
Are darkened in disguise:  
Such is the sad disparity of time.    Ar. 
A proper simile— now I see in what  
Article his pulse beats:— no Siren shall  
Bewitch my soul to love:— O Marciano,  
How I lament thy fate: heavens lend me tears,  
Since by my prodigal expense of sorrow,  
I'm become bankrupt: or else I beg  
A period to my days: since certainly,  
Life without love, is but calamity.  Exit weeping.  

Scaena Septima.  Enter Manduco, Marionetta. Mar. 
CAn he not speak for himself, Sir? he must court by his ambassadors, forsooth.  Man. 
The reason is, in promptu, Madam; for the youth is endued with pudicity: he cannot be his own buccinator, or Trumpeter of his own fame; but he bid me assure you that he 〈◊〉 vehemently, imo toto cord affect you. And so it may appear by his own manuscripts; as, exempli gratia, read the 3, page, 〈◊〉 line of that luculent Epistle of his to you, dated, 1. Cal. Mart●▪ You will▪ find that a man cannot express himself more lovingly: 〈◊〉 calls you, enim, the prototype of all beauty, the Archetipe of modesty, the source from whence all other rivulets of chastity do Scaturiat, etc. Is not that amantissimum?  Mar. 
No, 'tis not enough Sir.  Man. 
No— why he told me, that you would not permit osculation, and what else can he do when he is in private with you, for I taught him not to be loquacious—  Chrys. 
Be merry, Sister, you are happy, you are a Lady, Sister—  Enter Chrysolina hastily Man. 
A Lady!— quid sibi vult, to whom is she desponsat, Madam?  Chrys. 
The business is now at a close, Sister, Cassio may go to his travels now, he dare trouble you no more, Sister.  Mar. 
What d'you mean? shall I be married, and not know to whom?  Man. 
Yes, Sicuti nunc mos est, you may be collocate in nuptials, before you know cui, quando, & quomodo. a est, to whom, how, or when.  Aside. Chrys. 
Don't you know, Sister, Signior Becabunga?  Mar. 
Is he the man?  Chrys. 
Who else d'you think?  Man. 
Ho now omnia recte again— Lady, I congratulat the immense, ineffable felicity and secundity of your sagacious election—  Chrys. 
Hath not he been wooing you all this while? who else should be your husband but he, pray? Man. Hum—  Mar. 
Well I am content. Man. Recte—  Chrys. 
Content,— marry I should willingly change conditions with you. Man. Bene habet.  Chrys. 
He is a good match, I'll assure you.  Man. 
I can add a jurament to that.  Chrys. 
Mr. Manduco, she owes much to you for it.  Man. 
To me, Madam: O I am obligate to your ingenuity.  Chrys. 
She does indeed, Sir:— Come, Sister, let's in, and devise what rare fancies we must have against the wedding, we'll send to the Mercers presently, and have the best Satins, taffatas, ribbons and such other toys, that can be had for money, come, come,— Farewell good Sir— honest friend Manduco, farewell.  Man. 
Well, he may be a good husband yet for all that—  Exeunt. Manduco solus 
Friend Manduco, saith she, notatu dignum: now am I their friend, their amicall relation: so, this matrimony is, I may say, now almost, very high, altogether consummate: for which I expect a large honorary from both parties: O the pregnant wit of an intelligent Scholastic! now if I can effectuate the like for Signior Pantaloni, I shall have likewise aliquid amplius: so that I must at length provide for a matrimonial relation to myself: for, although, I be quinquagenarius, or fifty years of age, yet what Virgin in Florence will respuat me when I abound in riches, and shall be— Dives agris, dives, positis in foenore nummis.  Exit.  

Scaena Quinta.  Enter Pantaloni with Chrysolina. Pant. 
NOw, Madam, since I have got you all alone, I protest, I must make a little bold with you— Embraces her.  Chrys 
How Sir!  Pant. 
In civility only, I mean in civility, Madam, for I would only ask you one question, and that's not two, videlicet, whether or no, that is, when we may be Joined in the lawful band of matrimony, betwixt these parties following, to wit▪ for you see Becabunga has not been long a doing, he has taken your Sister to be his lawful spouse already, I hear, although he has been but a fortnight a wooing of her, and yet I have been wooing you one time with another these three months, I wot well, and I am sure that you love me— Chrys. Are you sure, Sir?  Pant. 
Yes indeed, and I think there is as much reason for the one as for the other: and to be free with you, a my conscience I might have had a bony Gentlewoman (just such another as yourself) with twelve thousand ducats in portion, a month since, had it not been for you: consider, pray you, what you promised to my mother last night.  Chrys. 
You will allow me a time to consult with myself, Sir, will you not?—  Pant. 
That's a strange consulting! what have you been doing ever since I see you first? I am sure you have had time enough to consult all this while: and I'll tell you now, when your friends and mine have agreed, there's no time to consult, but presently to be matrimonyed; you know that as well as I now.  Chrys. 
You will do well to press me no further at this time, Sir.  Pant. 
I'll let you alone for once then; but, the next time I shall come to see you, you must not consult any: for, to test you truly, as I heard my mother say, you may be glad of me for your husband— Chrys. Pray, no more, Sir.  Pant. 
And then, when I have spent so much money in wooing you, you will yet go, may be, and marry another. ●y for shame.  Chrys. 
I shall not marry while I give you an answer, Sir.  Pant. 
ay, but as my mother says, it is good to be sure, if any other man should beat me out of my stirrups now: I would come to a peeled egg, would not I? Chrys. No more of that, Sir.  Pant. 
I'll refer myself to your own discretion then— but, O!— I had almost forgot, I vow, that's very well remembered; was not I mounted on Peg-a-sus last night? (now this Peg-a-sus is the muse's horse, he has wings and flies, God bless us) and what think you I have done? marry you shall hear what rare Verses I have made. O! Madam, are you there? you are come in very good time; I was just a going to read Enter Mar. my Verses, but you shall hear an Anagram first— It is a pretty thing, Madam; you can read and Takes out his Verses, etc. write I warrant you; see you there your own name— reads. You see,—  

Chrysolina (Anagram)  
You're even like a cherry.   
I'll be judged if that be not pretty now: for, d'you see, I have only borrowed some four letters, or so▪ out of, Madam, your Sister's name, here, because she is a nigh relation and may spare them; and I have added two (I think) out of the quickness of myself.  Chrys. 
Excellent indeed, Sir. Mar. Good, upon my word.  Pant. 
ay, but you have not seen all yet; here are brave Verses upon your name, Madam Chrysolina.  Chrys. 
An acrostic, Sir.  Pant. 
ay, I, an accurstick, the same. And thus it is— take notice now. reads. there's the C. now.  
Canst thou not see, Pantaloni,  
How thy Mistress is so bony?  
Now I am speaking to myself, as't were.  
Revera, she is even such,  
You cannot match her, and that's much.  
Now there is C. H. R. Y. that is Chry.  
She is handsome, neat and fine,  
O, now if she were but thine.  
There's S. O. now that's Chryso: now I am speaking to myself you must understand all this while.  
Live then in hopes, and know it is constantly thy duty,  
Is always, everlastingly, to extol and upbraid her beauty.  
But, now take heed, here comes the tongue of the trump—  
Narcissus, Roses, and every flower,  
All must yield to her fair, rare, bright, sparkling colour.  
That's Chry-so-li-na: Now, is not that right now? say any of you, if you dare, if these Verses be not as good as any you have seen.  Chrys. 
Mar. They are extreme good, Sir.  Enter Boy, rounds Pant. in the ear. Pant. 
So, so, tell him I come:— Ladies, I must leave you, but I will not go home yet: Becabunga hath sent for me to a collation; we'll drink both your healths ere we go to bed yet, and to morrow I shall see you e'er you can get on your petticoats, Madam Chrysolina: for, I must be more familiar with you, since I have got such a good commodity of frequenting you— I shall show my mother all that has passed betwixt us, Madam; So farewell.  Exit. Mar. 
How d'you like him, Sister?  Chrys. 
As formerly, I find him a very discreet Gentleman.  Mar. 
I would you had him for your husband.  Chrys. 
I should wish that same, in a fair way, Sister.  Mar. 
Considering especially, 'tis best to marry while you are now in your prime.  Chrys. 
Right— for old maids are mere dogs-meat, they spoil the trade of wooing— Go by— go by.  Exeunt.  

Scaena Sexta.  Enter Marciano, Borasco. Bor. 
'Tis true, my Lord; yet, I don't much approve  
Your Duke's severe proceedings; Florence will not  
Endure the lash of Monarchy, like France  
Or Spain:— No, they must be their own carvers.  
— I hope the Lord Barbaro, who is now  
Precedent of the Senate, will reform  
Many of our abuses— Marc. Well, you will  
Come all to taste of your own vintage yet;  
So I believe: for, never yet, rebellion  
Escaped unpunished:— But, you remember  
You promised that the Lady Arabella  
Might see me ere I die. Bor. She shall, my Lord;  
— So— by this hand, a plot, in going off.  
A very plot: he is my Rival sure—  
But shortly, Signior, you shall carry your head  
Upon a Scaffold; and then, who dares  
Claim her, besides myself.  Exit Borachia▪ Marciano solus. 
When men begin to quarrel with their Prince,  
No wonder if they crush their fellow Subjects.  
We are eyesores to th'State: their black designs  
Are crossed by us; and therefore we march off.—  Enter Arabella weeping. Marc. 
Am I not yet sufficiently plagued  
With crosses: but you must add one, which is  
Heaviest of all,— why weeping— prithee cease  
To vex thyself: I am all resolution,  
And long to show my courage: since my stars  
Have ordained my departure: rest contented.  Ar. 
Alas— and is my plot thus come to nought—  Marc. 
Peace, prithee, for although I am not able  
To pay what your perfections claim, yet sure  
All generous souls (my true executors)  
Shall pay my debt, fair Nymph.  embraces her. Ar. 
My Lord, your death can be no more courageously  
Endured by you, then deplored by me—  Marc. 
Tush, as for death, I fear the varlet not,  
I've often stareed him out of countenance:  
I have considered, that love to my Prince,  
Should oversway all others: have chosen  
Rather t'endure one stroke, and die, then live,  
And undergo the censure (of all crimes,  
The most detestable) Disloyalty.  Ar. 
Ay me! incensed heavens, can nothing else,  
Appease your wrath but such an offering?  
O, cannot I, (speak) I, although a woman,  
Supply his place: I'll be an Amazon,  
Expose my naked breast to steel, and show  
All women are not fettered to the distaff.  Marc. 
Be not so cruel: all good things forbid,  
The world should see such a fair soul expire,  
And not dissolve itself: thou cannot die,  
(Although thou wouldst) and Marciano live,  
No, no more than a watch can move, if once  
The cord be broke; can I live after thee▪  Ar. 
Alas, Alas, unheard of tyranny!  
Unjust, even in injustice: thus to be  
So cruel, as to murder him, and yet  
Spare me; as much as if I should become  
My own soul murderer; villains, how unjust!  
— But here's my passing bell.  A bell rings within. 
I must away— farewell— Oh, oh, my heart,  
My heart dissolves, my Lord, I must away.  Marc. 
Away— farewell bright love—  embraces. Ar. 
Farewell, my Lord—  Marc. 
Farewell— now all good things preserve thee here,  
The gods hereafter: thus— and thus I leave kisses, etc.  
My heart in legacy:— thus, I take my last  
Morsel of pleasure: never shall my lips  
Kiss any thing hereafter, save the block—  Ar. 
So, thus— and thus, I willingly resign  
All, what is yours, this heart: and so farewell.  
Farewell for ever— oh— Farewell, my Lord.  Exit. Marciano solus. 
— So, down goes dust and ashes, powers and honours,  
Riches and joys, the smoke of our desires,  
With all we can call ours: our youth, our strength,  
Fly like the sullen clouds, when Boreas swells  
Their entrails with his breath: we, suddenly,  
Like wildfire, disappear, and straight another  
Steps in our place; and so we are no more—  
— Then heart, as thou hast still afford me courage,  
Inspire me now, that I may valiantly  
Act the last part of this my Tragedy.  Exit.   


Actus Quartus, Scaena prima.  Enter Manduco solus, drunk. 
WHere is this same unhappy Boy? this Signior Becabunga I have been making investigation, scrutination, exploration, and speculation for him this hour, and yet I cannot find this in dividuum vagum, as I may say— so, what are (Enter Cass. Leon you, boni viri, I know, you have hurried this Gentleman for whom I search to some compotation, or else ad lupanar; yea, I am sure o 〈◊〉— how sad it is to see young men, even, impuberes adolescentes, Indulge venery, and ebriety so much, & quid Venus ebria curate? As a friend of mine says.  Cass. 
The fellow's drunk, sure—  Man. 
— Drunk! O pervicacem hominis indolem! accusing one of ebriety, when I am, even in sana mente constitutus, constitute in sanity of mind: 'tis true, indeed, I have been drinking; out it was with some of my brethren, imo fratres fraterrimi.  Leon. 
What were they?  Man. 
Why, there was Light-body, Laurie, Latie, Cheisly quoque Brounie, Bowique High enim sunt Tuscanii gloria summa soli: besides our hospes, what d'you call him, Architabernarius, or Arch-taverner, who is one of the commissioners for administration of— drink— to the people of Tuscania.  Cass. 
Don't you inquire for Signior Becabunga, Sir.  Man. 
Yes, the very same, where is he? ubinam est?  Cass. 
You will find him at the Verona●tavern, hard by, with some of his comrades.  Man. 
Say you so, I will go find him then, profecto I think I could scarce abstain from vapulating him for this his contumacy.  Exit. Cass. 
Now Leonardo, 'tis time we were stirring, if we do not, this match will go on.  Leon. 
Nay, I'll do any thing for thee, ere thou lose her, Cassio,  Cass. 
Come then; I have almost gulled Pantaloni into a belief, that Becabunga wrongs him, for which he swears he will be revenged: now, if you can do the same with the other, our design may succeed yet.  Leon. 
Well, go you about your business then, fear not me.  Exit. Cass. 
Now, wit and art assist us both, I'll search my gamester and accomplish the trick.  Exit.  

Scaena Secunda.  Enter Arabella, with the Jailor. Jayl. 
MAdam, I will conduct you to him once again, but you must be very secret, for I hazard my life and reputation, if my Lord Borasco have intelligence of this, for he gave me strict command this morning, that I should admit none to him but his confessor.  Ar. 
I shall be very secret, I warrant you.  Jayl. 
Come then, soft Madam, soft.  Ar. 
For heaven's sake good my Lord,  Exeunt, she enters again with Marciano. 
Upon my knees I beg it—  Marc. 
This is impossible; I cannot do it;  
Prove not a sweet Remora any more,  
I'm now resolved: look to thyself, fair gem.  Ar. 
Cannot the tears of innocence prevail.  
Where is your courage now? what? are you cool?  
Is all that noble blood, that formerly  
Run in your veins exhausted? must a woman  
Become your Trumpeter, and stir your spirits  
Since 'tis but death at all hands—  Marc. 
Prithee hold,  
I would most willingly (as what man will doubt)  
Procure my liberty by what ever means  
But— O here lies my fear, thou, thou bright love,  
May come to suffer by it—  Ar. 
Ah my Lord.  
Consider pray that I have liberty  
To go abroad at pleasure: I have gained  
The Lord Borasco's favour: he will grant me  
That which some dare not ask, nay must not think on.  
I'll follow you without the least suspicion.  
Consider that— Strenuo hath promised  
To entertain the Jailor in his cups,  
While you be safely escaped.  Marc. 
I'll hazard then:  
Bright angel of my fancy, see you follow  
Immediately, for e'er you should endure  
The rebels censure, I would rather forfeit  
A thousand lives.  Ar. 
Doubt not of that, my Lord.  Marc. 
Then once for all— O my good stars direct me.  Ar. 
Farewell, my Lord, goodness protect you still  Marc. 
Farewell pure quintessence of my affection  Embraces. 
Farewell, pray heavens grant us a joyful meeting.  Exit Ar. 
Now, now at length, I hope he shall escape;  
O supreme powers, assist him now, or never,  
And ease my soul of its long burning fever.  Exit.  

Scaena Tertia.  Enter Cassio, Pantaloni. Cass. 
SIr, (as your friend, I speak it) Leonardo and he have joined their wits together to affront you; and you will not believe what impression their false suggestions of you have taken upon the Lady Chrysolina.  Pant. 
ay! So I thought, when she told me last day that she would consult forsooth: A pox take all your consulting tricks, say I, for I never knew any good come of womens' consultations yet.  Cass. 
Right Sir, you might easily smell Leonardo's plot in that same word, for he intends that Becabunga shall have Marionetta, and he himself Chrysolina: for which Becabunga does solicit your Mistress all this while: if you look not to yourself quickly you are undone, Sir.  Pant. 
ay, so I guessed always, for, d'you see, some women, are the most humourous little creatures, a man shall not know when he is in their favour, and when not: but as for Becabunga— I'll say no more at this time: but I vow I'll cudgel him to death so soon as I can see him.  Cass. 
And please but command me, you shall not want my assistance, I'll assure you.  Pant. 
Now Sir, I shall not need your help to beat such a puppet as he is: what would you think to write a challenge to him, Sir?  Cass. 
So you know, I advised you at first, when I sent for you to the Taberna del. Reina, while you believed that Becabunga had sent for you.  Pant. 
Hang him, I will hear no more of him: I will write a challenge to him presently.  Cass. 
And if you'll please to take my advice in penning on't, I will so terrify him.  Pant. 
With all my heart, Sir, for I would have it such language as might make him hang himself for fear: and for Leonardo, after I have discussed Becabunga then have at him.  Cass. 
If you please to employ me to carry it to him?  Pant. 
Yes Sir, you shall go along with me, and help me to write it, for the truth is I am not much used with such challenges, and my mother bid me always have a care of quarrelling, but an she were burned I'll fight with that rascal, who has affronted me so.  Cass. 
A most generous resolution.  Pant. 
Come with me Sir.  Cass. 
Now, Leonardo, play thy game, or never.  Aside. Exeunt.  

Scaena Quarta.  Enter Marciano solus, disguised as having escaped 
— THanks to my stars! as yet unknown  
I have cheat all the sentinels; and now  
I suck free air again:— you powers above  
Direct my sudden course: and save my love.  Exit quietly 
Within.  Jayl. 
Ho, where's the pisspot there.  Str. 
Sirrah drawer, another's quart of sack, you raggamuffin you.  Curtain drawn appear Str. and the Jailor, drinking. Jayl. 
You shall do me reason Signior Strenuo:— 'tis my noble General's health, Signior Strenuo— Ho, where's the pisspot there?— you shall drink it, Signior—  Str. 
Come then, we'll drink his good health, although he has but two days to live.  drinks. Jayl. 
No matter for that, I love to be courteous to the last breath, Signior; come, give me the cup: drinks. Sack, good Sack, Signior drinks again.— O brave Sack; come, le's have a catch, Signior.  Str. 
Come then— Here's a health to the pretty little thing,  
With the bony, bony radiant eyes,  
And the bony, bony, plump, round thighs;  
Let us sing— let us sing—  drinks. Jayl. 
Let us sing, let us sing— O brave Strenuo, here's a cup to thee for thy catch. drinks.  Enter a Servant, beckons to Str. Str. approaches to him. Ser. 
He is escaped.  Str. 
'Tis good, no more, silence I command you.  Ser. 
He waits for you.  Str. 
Plague on you, no more I say.  Ser. 
My Lord is escaped I say.  Str. 
Pox take you, hold your peace, or you'll spoil all I say.  Jayl. 
Come youngman, how does my noble General? you are his servant, I know— here's to him, a brimmer of Sack.  drinks. Str. 
Drink and be gone, you coxcomb you—  Jayl. 
You shall pledge me neighbour.  Ser. 
I shall, Sir.  drinks. Str. 
My Lord has ordained me to present his love and respects to all friends at my return to Sienna— get you gone whoreson, get you gone, or you'll spoil all.  Exit Ser. Jayl. 
Well, he's a noble Gentleman, Signior, although I dare not say it: but, no more of him, this cup is yours, Signior, we'll have t'other flaggon of Sack e're we part; for I love to be merry as well as courteous, especially amongst strangers, Signior— Ho, drawer, Sirrah, Loggar-head, the pisspot, Bastard, shall a man spoil his breeches, you son of a whore you.  Curtain draws. Enter Strenuo quietly with the Servant. Str. 
You puppet you, could not you hold your peace when I bid you— come, where is my Lord?  Ser. 
At the Colonna in the Strada del Popolo, there he lurks quietly while you come to him.  Str. 
Let the rogue the Jaysor slip then, and we'll bid adieu to Florence; come, come quickly.  Exeunt.  

Scaena Quinta.  Enter Arabella sola, traverse quietly. 
— SO, now he's gone: O! how my heart does leap,  
My pulse begins to move, since now I know  
He's passed the rebels reach, before this time.  
All's well: this day, by order of the Senate,  
Am I to be enlarged: had Marciano,  
Whose understanding soul, dived in the deepest  
Gulfs of suspicion, even but conjectured,  
How e'er they could accuse me for his flight.  
Had rather died, ere he had condescended  
To any such attempt— but now he's safe,  
I'll follow close myself: So hope assist me.  Exit. A noise within of many voices, crying confusedly, Soldier searching for Marciano. Enter Jailor, weeping and railing. Jayl. 
A pox on all your Stennois tricks, say I, plague on that villain Strenuo: my noble General's gone, fled, gone: what shall I do? How the devil came I to be gulled by that name Strenuo! The last night while he and I were deep in our cups, my noble General breaks the prison and escapes. O! plague on his crazy coxcomb, I could have trusted him as soon as any in Florence, and yet he hath played me such a trick as may bring me to a ropes end yet—  Within, Jailor Jailor, etc. 
Hark— my Lord Borasco searching me, I shall be hanged without doom or sentence—  Enter Borasco with Soldiers. Bor. 
Where is this villain?  Jayl. 
Here am I my Lord.  Bor. 
You ugly scarab, what do you deserve?  
Sirrah, you shall be hanged.  Jayl. 
Alas! my Lord,  
I was deceived, grossly cheated, gulled,  
Foxed and what not, by Signior Strenuo;  
A plague on him, may I say—  Bor. 
Peace, you wretch,  
My Lord Barbaro will cause punish you  
For your neglect, For he had ne'er escaped  
Had he not brybed you—  Jayl. 
I never see his coin.  Bor. 
Good gods! this day was he to be beheaded,  
Now none knows where he is— this Siennese Lady  
Will be examined: for she seemed to carry  
A great respect to him: and (this I know)  aside. 
The Senate will suspect her accessary,  
No doubt: So she shall be condemned to die:  
But I'll prevent their severe resolutions  
By all means possible— Come, you Scoundrel, come  
You may be hanged yet, Sirrah, ere all be done.  Jayl. 
O! no more of that word hanging, my neck itches already.  Exeunt.  

Scaena Sexta.  Enter Leonardo, Becabunga. Leon. 
CAn you desire any more? look you, Sir, a direct challenge.  Bec. 
I know not what belongs to your challenges; but I am sure, as you say, he has affronted me.  Leon. 
Sir, the very words of this challenge would encourage one; considering especially, that he is the basest coward that ever breathed for all this.  Bec. 
Think you so?  Leon. 
Yes indeed, Sir, I warrant you he dare never appear in field against you: he is but a bragging fellow.  Bec. 
Nay, if I thought he would not appear, I might say something.  Leon. 
Trust me, Sir, he dares not.  Bec. 
ay, but d'you hear, Sir, if we can be handsomely reconciled, what needs fighting?  Leon. 
Fie, Sir, you cannot honourably refuse, when he has writ a challenge to you.  Bec. 
Not, Sir, why cannot I write another to him, and call him a coward, a rascal, a slave, a villain, and what not, and still preserve my honour, as you call it?  Leon. 
Alas! good Sir, there's no time now to talk, now you must fight, and I will assist you.  Bec. 
ay, if you will hold him to me while I beat him, there may be something on't too.  Leon. 
Doubt not, Sir; but, as I told you, he dares not appear, you have no more to do, but come armed to the fields, and if you find him not, brandish your Rapier in the air thrice, proclaim him a coward, and so return.  Bec. 
With my honour, Sir?  Leon. 
Yes, Sir, with your honour entire.  Bec. aside. 
Well, I see I must fight; but if he doth not appear now, I shall be in a brave condition: for, than I will swear, rant and domineer, by my word of honour, as my father's foot-groom does. But will he not come, think you?  Leon. 
My life for't, he dares not appear; courage, we will outdare both him and Cassio.  Bec. 
Well, but when all's done, Sir, betwixt you and me, were I at home in the Country again, all your honour, and honour above honour, should not cause me fight: for, Pantaloni has learned to fence, Sir, and I know not what belongs to fencing, not I  Leon. 
Tush, fear not him, I tell you, he dares not appear, and if he does, I'll fight him myself.  Bec. 
Will you do so, Sir, and I will be your tres humble serviteur Monsieur: for, d'you see, Sir, I am to be married shortly, now if I should chance to be killed, (as who knows but I may) you know then, Sir, I cannot be married; why? because I shall be dead, that's a good reason, Sir.  Leon. aside. 
Plague on him for a coward, how he talks; I shall have more ado to allure him to this duel, than a cracked Courtier has to persuade an Usurer to become surety for him.  Bec. 
And then you know, Sir, Pantaloni is to marry the one Sister, and I the other: now it is not fit that we should fight together, who are to be brethren shortly, for I know not what.  Leon. 
Why, Sir, you must resolve to fight: go along with me to the field: and if he offer to thrust at you, I'll step in betwixt, and save you both.  Bec. 
Will you be as good as your word, Sir? Leon. I will indeed.  Bec. 
Then have at him— But hark you, Sir, you must have a special care he touch not my face, for so he may put but my eye (God bless us) and then where is your honour forsooth?  Leon. 
He shall not touch you Sir, come, delay is dangerous.  Exeunt. At the other end Enter Cass. Pant. traverse etc. Pant. 
You may stand by, and see fair play, Sir, I shall beat him to some purpose: Cass. As you think fit, Sir.  Pant. 
Come on then— O Becabunga! thou knows not how nigh thy fatal hour approaches— for I am sure he dares not appear.  Exeunt.  

Scaena Septima.  Enter Arabella sola in Prison, more closely confined, then formerly upon the report that she was to be beheaded. Ar. 
O gods! is this the height of all your wrath:  
May I expect a requiem in this stroke?  
Yes sure— then graciously be pleased to hear  
My ardent votes:— O may my blood appease  
Your incensed minds: restore my lawful Prince:  
Let Marciano live: Let nothing hurt him:  
O hear him, hear him, if there be a faith  
Able to reach your mercy, let him have it.  
I plead none for myself:— O love assist me,  
Courage, beyond the ordinar of my sex,  
Support my spirits in this agony:  
Death's but the thaw of all our vanity.  weeps, Enter Borasco quietly. Bor. 
Nay now my soul dissolve: 'tis but a trouble  
To keep thy quarter in this perplexed body.  
O unkind Senate! eyes have not seen a fairer  
Model of beauty— Sure, no hatchet dares  
Be horseleech to her veins: or if it does,  
All iron shall be quite accursed hereafter.  
— No, there's an angel keeps that paradise  
A fiery angel guards her: Virtue, virtue,  
Ever, and endless virtue! O rare beauty!  
The nearest to her maker, and the purest,  
That ever dull flesh showed us: such another  
Could make atonement for half her sex.  
— See how she weeps—  Ar. Discovers him. Ar. 
— So, now my torturer comes—  Bor. 
Now all good angels bless thee, fairest, truest  
Heart-ravishing beauty: cruel, yet lovely tyrant.  
Why still in sorrow? shall I never have  
One gracious smile— A 'las, how willingly  
To save thy precious life would I submit  
My neck to cruelty— by this hand, I would—  Kisses her hand. Ar. 
Since it is ordained, Sir, I'll not endeavour  
To prove a malcontent. Sir, I have done  
What I intended; she's a cowardly Girl,  
Who can't endure one stroke for him, whose safety  
Is so dear to his prince and country, vex not  
Yourself for my misfortunes: nothing can  
Affright my resolutions—  Bor. 
Strange love! not to be paralleled?  Ar. 
Pish— I contemn the fury of your base,  
Malicious senate: reason does disdain  
To dwell with such, whose souls are stifled with rage,  
They sentence, whom they will, no matter why,  
Since innocent, or guilty, we must die.  Bor. 
Madam, you shall not die I will solicit  
The Senate for you: if I cannot prevail  
As I expect, before it come to th'worst  
I'll set you free, although their fury reach  
In going off. My person for it— who does enterprise  
To serve his fancy, must all fears despise.  Exit. Ar. 
Ah vain fomenter of vain, fruitless hopes,  
Thy windmill-thoughts will break their axletree:  
Go foolish enterpriser: hope no favour  
From one, who e'er she suffered thy embraces,  
Would rather undergo a thousand tortures.  
— No, if e'er woman was, or may be found,  
That for fair fame, unspotted memory,  
For virtue's sake, and only for its sake  
Dares challenge room in history: O love  
Let me be only Martyr in the case.  
O Marciano, were it not thy safety  
That did support my soul, I should prevent  
The executioner: but since thou art  
Free from the ravenous clutches of the rebels,  
Poor Arabella from that spark alone  
Derives her present courage—  
— Then blessed hour approach, I'll boldly show  
That for his life, I can endure one blow.  Exit weeping.  

Scaena Octava.  Enter Cassio, Pantaloni. Swords drawn, Cass. 
THis is the place, this is the hour appointed.  Pant. 
Yes, Sir, but, you see, he has not appeared, may not I put up my rapier now, and go home again with my honour, may I not?  Cass. 
Not Sir: you must have a little patience.  Pant. 
Ho, Ho, that's very true, I must proclaim Leonardo and him both cowards— Oyes— Oyes—  One coughs, and whispers within. 
But (a pox) I hear them coming hither. Come, Signior Cassio, we have tarried too long, we will now return.  Cass. 
No, no, stay a little yet.  Pant. 
I see this fellow has a mind I should be killed: would I had that unlucky challenge in my pocket again.  Cass. 
'Slid, here they come; to your posture, Sir.  Enter Leon. Bec. swords drawn. Bec. 
O! look you there's Pantaloni, Sir, and Cassio too, you said he durst not appear.  Pant. 
Nay faith, now I see 'tis no more jesting, there they come both with their Rapiers drawn.  Cass. 
Courage, Signior.  Bec. 
What shall I do now, Sir?  Leon. 
Fight, what else?  Cass. 
We'll fight all four at once.  Leon. 
Yes, yes, by all means:  Cass. 
Have at thee then, villain, Leonardo.  Leon. 
At you, Sir.  Thrust. Cass. 
Come, to't Becabunga.  Bec. 
Not I, Sir; as I am honest I will fight none at this time: for I have some business to do in the City, Sir.  Leon. 
What, you sneaking gull, will you not fight for your Mistress, Sirrah.  Bec. 
No, Sir, I will fight for no Mistress at this time; I must go about business of more importance, Sir— aside. O! if he had not appeared now.  Leon. 
Not for the Lady Marionetta, Sir?  Bec. 
No, Sir, I will renounce all the right I have to her, before I fight, at this time at least.  Pant. 
I like that well.  Cass, 
'Slid, shall we come to the fields with you, and return thus affronted? fight it out bravely, or by this hand I'll run you both thorough.  Pant. 
Nay, it shall not be so, Sir, you see we cannot fight at this time: for, the truth is, (now when I remember) I have an appointment too, within less than a minute of an hour hence, with some Ladies of my acquaintance.  Leon. 
That's all one to us, Sir.  Pant. 
I see I must do it, there is no way else to escape— aside. Gentlemen, I know what will please you: because we have brought you into the fields, that you may not be angry, as Becabunga says, I will renounce all the right I can have or claim in the Lady Chrysolina.  Leon. 
Good—  Pant, 
For, d'you see, Sir, I care no more for her, than a Roarer does for his old Punk.  Leon. 
Excellent.  Pant. 
I protest to you, Sir, I think they are fools that fight for women, let them fight for themselves a God's name, it is sufficient we love them.  Leon. 
Admirably good!  Bec. 
So I say too Sir, and if you have wronged me, I here freely forgive you.  Cass. 
Sir, that's not enough, you shall both seal this paper, that we may testify to other Gentlemen, how we were ready to fight.  Bec. 
What paper, Sir?  Leon. 
No matter for that, Sir, you shall both seal it, or by these hilts—  Pant. 
Nay hold, good Sir, I shall seal it— what terrible oaths these fellow's use.  Pant. seals. Cass 
Come, you must seal too.  Bec. 
Yes, yes, Sir.  Bec. seals. Leon. 
Now get you gone both of you for a brace of infamous puppets, cowardly coxcombs, you arrogant, empty-skulled wittols, not worthy of the least favourable smile from any Lady: you have resigned your interests in two honourable Ladies, and therefore deserve no less then to be kicked— thus to be kicked—  kicks him. Pant. 
What d'you mean, Sir?  Cass. 
Thus to kick you, you brace of bastardly Baboons—  Leon. 
And so we leave you as we found you, a pair of impudent filchers of reputation, not worthy the name of Gentlemen.  Cass. 
Farewell my Cobwebs—  Leon. 
Farewell good Spaniels, farewell—  Exeunt ambo. Pant. 
Marry pox take you both, what notorious rascals are they.  Bec. 
Come, come, we must be friends again; let them go hang themselves if they please.  Pant. 
If I had them in another place—  Bec. 
But hark you, what if they show the Ladies that we have renounced our interest in them? what will you say then? think you that ever the Lady Chrysolina will look upon you again.  Pant. 
I should have made them both black and blue.  Bec. 
Will you let's go and prevent them, I say.  Pant. 
By all means— this trick shall do Leonardo no good, what a fool was I to believe Cassio?  Bec. 
So I say always: but come, quick— he that speaks first is always best heard.  Pant. 
I'll to them yet, for all this, he has not beat me out as I thinks.  Exeunt  

Scaena Nona.  Enter Marciano solus, having got intelligence that Arabella was to die. 
— HEart! art thou thunder-proof? can nothing break 〈◊〉  
Shall Arabella die, and though estill live?  
— Burst stubborn piece of flesh— O! heavens forbid,  
Those eyes may live to see the world without her.  
— The Senate hath condemned her— O! base wre●●  
Unhuman Tyrants; Monsters of this age;  
O! barbarous villainy; what bloody thoughts?  
It is not because she was accessary  
To my escape: No sure, but 'cause I love her,  
That she must die; as if those hellhounds meant  
To strike the Stars, and all good things above,  
Regardless of her deity: no devil  
Could be more cruel— But, hold, Marciano,  
Thou art the executioner: thou alone.  
Say, wretched man, was thou afraid to die?  
Could fear prevail so far? Alas! thy fame  
Has lost its right wing by thy too rash flight,  
Leaving so rare an hostage in thy place.  
Yet, who had said, or who had ever thought,  
A thing so closely carried could have ever  
Thus come to light. She was to be enlarged  
That very day: for so she did assure me,  
Else had my wearied soul resigned its casket,  
And I, by this time, sleeped with blessed shades  
Of my Ancestors, maugre all her tears.  
— But what, I dream, I must do something more  
Then only mourn for her: if art assist,  
●l study to preserve her; either return,  
Submit myself to mercy of the Rebels,  
●f otherways those goblins can't be conjured,  
Or else by open force, or private means.  
What e'er be th'event, I'll procure her freedom:  
May be the gods are more propitious  
Than I imagine. Come— it is resolved  
in going off. She shall not die— fools are amazed at fate,  
Griefs but concealed are never desperate.  Exit.   


Actus Quintus, Scaena prima.  Enter Borasco solus. 
NAy hold, my spleen; do not burst yet—  
How this same Lady hath abused my favour,  
Escaped, no man knows how; gone, God knows whether.  
If I fly not, I shall supply her place,  
That is resolved I know— Fortune, you shall not  
Play upon me; although you now begin  
To frown upon most of our Senators:  
For, since the brave Lord Barbaro is dead,  
All such as were his creatures are discarded;  
Amongst whom, I am one— a plague on all  
Your base seditious coxcombs: your proceedings  
Will strengthen Cleon's interest. Hellhounds, Tigers,  
Adieu base Elves: I'll post to Venice straight,  
And there evite the ruin of your State.  Exit.  

Scaena Secunda.  Enter Pantaloni, Becabunga, with Chrysolina, Marionetta. Pan. 
TUsh, these are all but stories, Madam, I was but jestis with them when I did it.  Mar. 
Sir, I will hear no excuse.  Bec. 
I vow 'tis true, Madam  Pant. 
Nay, but hark you, Madam Chrysolina, if you come to that with it, I can make you love me yet, whether you will or no.  Mar. 
Will you, Sir? Chrys. Pray, how do you that, Sir?  Pant. 
Why, thus I instruct it, Madam; I can show you several Letters under your own hand and seal, day and date, etc. that you are my humble servant, which you dare not for your ears deny, dare you? Chrys. You had best be silent.  Pant. 
Nay more, I know you love me yet, because the last time I was with you, you gave me a knot of Ribbons, which my mother keeps well locked up in her Cabinet yet, as a love-token: and moreover, when I said I will come and see you again to morrow, you said, says you, you shall be welcome.  Chrys. 
This will not do it, Sir, you have renounced us, and therefore—  she offers to remove. Bec. 
Nay hold, Madam, we were but in jest.  Pant. 
And then they forced us to do it.  Bec. 
ay, and if we had not done it, they swore (God bless us) that they would kill us.  Pant. 
And then, you know, it was better to seal a piece of paper then to be killed.  Chrys. 
What strong arguments they use.  Mar. 
Sister, we must shake 'em off now or never.  Bec. 
And then, Madam, if we had been killed—  Pant. 
Yes, if we had been killed, it had been small advantage for you.  Bec. 
aside. ay, and then, Madam— and then, I say, Oh! if Manduco were here to plead for me now.  Pant. 
Nay, if you will not hear us, take your pleasure.  Chrys. 
No more, Sir, get you gone, henceforth I disclaim you.  Pant. 
And I you too, d'you see; I care no more for you, Miris, than you do for me: I am as good a Gentleman as yourself; and if you were not a woman I would tell you more of my mind.  Bec. 
I knew it would always come to this at length, I vow; think you Gentle women do nothing but entertain us with vain hopes for a while, and then cast us off.  Pant. 
mistress, shall I tell you, there are more Ladies in Florence ●he● you that will be blithe of me yet; and so long as I have money in store, I am sure to have Mistresses in store.  Chrys. 
Are you so, Sir?  Pant. 
I that I am; but I will complain to your Uncle, to the Lady Saromanca, and to all your kindred, that you have cheat me, for all your fair promises.  Chrys. 
You are a prating fool.  Pant. 
I am no more prating then yourself, Mistress; but if there be justice to be had of you, I'll have it.  Mar. 
Come, let us leave them, Sister, else they'll both fall a weeping.  Pant. 
For whom, for you, Mistress? I'll let you know we are no such children.  Bec. 
No, but, I protest, I cannot but weep though.  Chrys. 
Mar. Farewell, farewell, march to your travels my Gamesters, farewell.  Exeunt ambo. Pant. 
Peugh— Farewell; I believe you are the greatest fool of the two, Madam Chrysolina, call they you.  Bec. 
I protest, Pantaloni, I am very sorry for the loss of this bony Lady though. O! how my father will chide me now: for he had given Manduco orders to provide my Wedding-clotheses, and now all's blown up.  Pant. 
Come, come, we know the worst on't: let them go, we will never want great matches yet; let us think now to be revenged on them villains, Cassio and Leonardo: the first time I meet any of them, I will cut the tongue out of their heads that they shall never talk more.  Bec. 
ay, so will I too: but we must have Manduco with us then, for he will make them stand in awe of him.  Exeunt.  

Scaena Tertia.  Enter Marciano solus, as at Pisa. 
THat she's escaped, that, I know certainly,  
So letters from Sienna have informed me.  
But by what means, or where she is, I know not.  
Never remembers him, who, if he should  
Forget her but one hour, would think he had  
Offended highly, yet she's silent still.  
If I receive no letters from her, shortly,  
I'll become jealous of her, sure; that she,  
Who was all love, is now so quickly cold  
In her affections.— But what! I blaspheme  
The virtuous Arabella, she's all virtue,  
And cannot prove unconstant—  
Now let me meditate on what my Prince  
Hath ordered me to do: He's still the same,  
And bears a mind, that floats above the waves  
Of all adversities, as who should say,  
Fortune, even do thy worst. His counsellors,  
Like to wise Mariners, afraid to stretch  
The top sails of their courage in this tempest,  
Lest both they, and their Prince should suffer shipwreck.  
Only was I commanded some years since  
Upon an expedition to Sienna,  
Encouraged by th'affectionate expressions,  
And actions of the valiant Cassanaeo,  
And others of our loyal countrymen.  
But fortune crushed our enterprises, so  
I did return to Savoy, where my Prince  
Did then reside: and now, I am commanded  
To second here an enterprise at Pisa,  
Which whether it succeed or not; my duty  
Is yet at least to prosecute it—  A post-horn sounds within. 
How's this— a post-horn: good—  Enter Strenuo with a Letter Str. 
All's well, my Lord, now do our joys begin.  
To flourish after such a tedious winter.  
The duke's restored, and now intends at Florence.  
Here, here's a letter for it, from himself.  Marc. 
Restored!— Nay hold my heart— I'll read this letter.  reads 
— True, True:— O fortune how I hug thee now.  
And thou my good friend Strenuo—  embraces him. Str. 
Brave days, my Lord; the Court does fill apace,  
The Lady's crowd in throngs: the glory of  
Her sex, your darling, the fair Arabella,  
Since clouds of melancholy are overblown,  
Does now appear in loves full horizon.  Marc. 
O how propitious! lend me moderation,  
Reins to my joy, as well as to my sorrow,  
Else, I shall quickly burst to death: this blessed,  
And unexpected Tarantula: of news  
So ticles all my senses:— joyful tidings!  
My Prince restored! my dearest Arabella  
At Court I now my felicity lacks nothing  
But sight to be complete: that my eyes may  
Persuade my yet almost incredulous soul,  
To what my fancy never durst have prompted  
— To horse— To horse, I'll post to Florence quickly.  Exit. post-horn sounds.  

Scaena Quarta.  Enter Pantaloni, Becabunga, and Manduco with swords by their sides. Man. 
O Tempora! O mores! O the effraenate, licentious perversity of untamed adolescency! what a villainous, scelerate attempt to entice two young Gentlemen to a Duel: who besides, that they are both innocent Boys, why, their very Uncles and other friends, are employed in serious negotiations of the Senate. Prob Deum, atque hominum fidem! Is all my industry in solicitation, my immense study and lucrubrations for framing familiar epistles, my oratory in private commendations and exhortations for both these Gentlemen come to nought!— Proh facinus ingens!  Pant. 
Peace, Mr. Manduco: you must not only teach us how to beat, but likewise assist us in beating these dissolute fellows; for I have sworn, Sir, and that is enough—  Bec. 
ay, so I say too, for, you know we wear our swords here for no other end; look you, are not my hilts very handsome, O now, I will swear, By these hilts, as well as Leonardo himself.  Man. 
And for that effect, I have got my sword too: I am lenis in puniendo: but when I am provoked, invenient me Leonem, they shall find me a very Lion: my scholars at Santo Burgo, where I was sometimes ludimagister, can yet testify that: and for my severity in castigando— Probatum est.  Pant. 
Although Leonardo has got my Mistress, yet I'll have about with him, albeit he be a Senators son in law, with a mischief to his heart, when such Gentlemen of estates as I, am shaked off.  Bec. 
And for me, since Cassio has got my Mistress: let him keep her: I must look out for some other great match in time; for they say, Manduco, that now since the dukes restored, they who were active in the late rebellion, must be forfeit of their estates: and what will become of my Patrimony then: for you know my father has been a great man all this while, (I fear he never be so again) now, you know, if I loss my Estate, how shall I have a wife then? what think you, Pantaloni?  Pant, draws. Pant. 
Nay, I can think on nothing now, but how to thrust at Leonardo.  Bec. 
So, I will draw too, if you come to that with it.  Bec. draws. Man. 
And for me— I love no dimication— but when I am provoked, I will assist you— Et sic arma amens capio, nec sat rationis in armis.  Man. puts the hilts of his sword betwixt his feet, and tuggs at it violently. Enter Cassio, Leonardo, with Chrys. Mar. Cass. to Mar. 
Madam, my resolution was always unfeigned to serve you: your coy refusal diminished nothing of my affection, but did rather incite me the more to love you.  Mar. 
I did always esteem myself honoured in your love, Sir, though the capricious humours of my self-seeking friends did countermand my desires,  Bec. runs away, Man. and Pant. retire to a corner of the Theatre. Leon. to Chrys. 
Nay then, unspotted beauty, answer those gracious obligations yourself: it passes the activity of my invention. I have been always your devout admirer; but now I am so much bound to love you, that although my affection should super-erogat, yet I can plead no merits.  Chrys. 
Sir, your merits have made conquest of my affections—  Cass. 
Prithee, Leonardo, wouldst see good sport—  Leon. 
As how?  Man. 
Nay, you must stay, I will not fight alone.  Pantaloni and Man. justles, Pant. wrestles loose, Man. solus to Cass. and Leon. Pant. 
Fie, not before women, Sir, that were unhandsome—  Exit Pant. running. Man. 
Keep off, boni viri; for, if you approach, you shall find the vinegar of my wrath. I have chastised many such in my time, I'll make you know what it is rem habere cum Professor, to bell the cat with one to whom you owe respect.  Leon. takes hold on Man. Leon. 
Thou slovenly, greasy Pedant, glass-gazing, superficial affected piece of ignorance, get you gone, speak no more ill of Gentlemen; or if you do, you may come to carry your joints in a box yet—  Man. 
Never again, Sir— le's fall his sword.  Leon. 
If you do— Man. Ita me Deus amet, never, Sir.  Cass. 
We'll put you to the stripado, if you don't behave yourself more civility.  Man. 
Never again, as I am erudit●— So help me, God— never.  Exit. Mar. 
Poor fellow, he must have his humour.  Chrys. 
If he could hold his peace sometimes, he is a good honest fellow; but he can speak good of no man, but those of his own profession.  Cass. 
We have punished him sufficiently, let's think no more upon him.  Leon. 
Nor upon our quondam Rivals either. Come, we'll continue our progress to Court.  Exeunt omnes.  

Scaena Quinta.  A joyful noise within, Trumpets, Ketle-drums, Hoboys, with all sort of music. Enter the Duke, Marciano, with others of the Nobility, Courtiers and Attendants, at his entry. 

Song.  
NOw breaks our day,  
Fairies away,  
Pack hence, I say,  
Your power's undone.  
Room for jov' progeny,  
Full of divinity.  
Cleon, brave Cleon, nature's Paragon,  
Rebellion breathless lies,  
Hell sings her obsequies,  
Usurping Traitors quick be gone.  
Now, Cleon, divine Cleon mounts His Throne,  
Room— room— room— room for Him alone.   Cleon. 
Heaven's yet are just: they now have paid us home  
Our former losses with large interest—  
— A good while lost is never known to many,  
An ill while feeled is scarcely known to any:  
For men, like butterflies, rush on the candle  
Of war at all occasions, until some  
Are burned to ashes: others hurt their wings;  
Then they recoil amazed, and not while then,  
They blame the projects of their troubled brain.  
— Now (gods assume our thanks) we, who before,  
Were tossed in waves of war, are so no more—  
— Florence, take heed, jest not with supreme Powers,  
'Tis hard to thrive, when heavens do countermand  
Thy foul designs:— But wisely learn to know  
Thy former errors, and commit no moe.  1. Court. 
— A Prince's word is good divinity—  2. Court. 
— While Subjects oaths are downright perjury,  
And serve for nothing but to feed Rebellion.  Cleon. 
How! Marciano, you seem discontent,  
What sullen cloud amidst this calm of joys  
O'●casts you noble soul?— Marc. Not I, dear Prince,  
I am not discontent.  Cleon. 
Come, Marciano, you shall feast your senses  
On what we know your soul entirely loves.  
— Now let us in, 'tis time we were at counsel.  Exeunt omnes. Within, music as before. 

Song.  
Dull man, dost not see in his countenance  
Such rare becoming grace,  
As one might freely say he did enhance,  
Majesty in his face.  
Why art become  
So grossly dumb?  
Cannot thy tongue pay tribute to his praise?  
Hark how all Florence sing,  
In such a cheerful spring,  
And every one their voices raise.  
Why silent then, when after all our tears,  
Clouds which did shroud the light, our Sun appears?  
Appears— Appears  
Dissolving all our jealousies and fears.    

Scaena Sexta.  Enter Arabella sola. Ar. 
ALl now rejoice, but I: my former griefs  
Still dwell with me, until the noble, constant,  
Generous Marciano doth appear—  
— Goodness! 'tis he— O!  
how my heart begins,  Enter Marciano discoursing quietly with a Courtier. Exit Court. 
Even as a murdered carcase, to distil  
Gross drams of blood at sight o'th' murderer.  Marc. discovers her. Marc. 
— Cold virtue guard me— if I dream not— 'tis she.  
— Merciful heavens, can Marciano see  
His very soul? yet not in ecstasy.  
— O! Arabella, fairest, ever worthy,  embraces her. 
I offer thus my heart— thus— thus— and thus—  
O! art assist me— sudden joy had never  
Sudden expression—  Ar. 
Sure, my Lord, you cannot  
Be more surprised than I am; pray imagine  
A heart abstract from cares, and hoist in high  
Raptures of joy; even such you may define,  
Mine-thine— thine-mine— the gods could ne'er have been  
More gracious than now—  
embraces. Then, thus, my Lord, pray let me evidence  
The temper of my heart, since you went hence.  Marc. 
O! thou, the loadstone of my else-wandring fancy,  
That keeps my soul still fixed— what can I render  
Conform to thy fair merits—  Ar. 
Love, my Lord,  
— Love, love— I say, I cannot ask for more.  
Next, if you will oblige me, prithee honour  
Our friend Falasse, one deserves your favour.  
— He entertained me kindly in your absence,  
During your long exile.  Marc. 
Heavens thank him for it,  
I shall esteem him highly, and recommend  
Him to the Duke— But now, my heart's in flames—  
aside.— Never was man more happy in his choice  
Then I in mine— Such Mistresses are rare—  
You were my fellow-sufferer; sprightly Nymph,  
If love connive, would you not willingly  
Be sharer with me in my prosperity?  Ar. 
Those, who know all things, know my great ambition.  Marc. 
No more— no more— we wrong our joys to stay  
On such discourse— 'tis time we supplicate  
The gentle Hymen, he shall us unite,  
That Florence may behold our joys complete.  Exeunt.  

Scaena Vltima.  Enter two of the guard with Partuysans, 1. Part. 
COme, Come, all things will now resume their ancient splendour.  2. Part. 
Yes, yes, now we begin, like Mariners after a tempest, to suck our bottles at ease again.  1. Part. 
O brave days! who would have dreamed on this sudden revolution some years since.  2. Part. 
No more of that discourse, look to the Court-gates, for there shall be such a crowd of Gallants with their Ladies, Apprentices with their Wenches, Citizens with their Wives, and all the confused rabble, by and by, that we shall have a great labour on't to keep the half on'em out.  1. Part. 
Right, for the Lord Marciano is to be married to night, and we shall have a Masque, I warrant you.  2. Part. 
I believe we shall have a merry night on't.  1. Part. 
You are welcome, my masters, walk towards the further corner, pray you, there you shall have best room.  Enter Cass. Leon. Chrys. Mar. Cass. 
The Duke will be here by and by. 1. Part. We expect so Sir,  Leon. 
Come then, we'll aside, Cassio.  A flourish within, Music, etc. Enter more Partuysans. Part. 
Clear the way, the Duke's a coming.  Enter Cleon, leading Arabella by the hand▪ Courtiers, Attendants, etc. Cleon. 
— Remember no more, fair Lady,  
O● by gone miseries—  Cass. Leon. Chrys. Mar. kiss the Dukes hand, etc. Enter Marciano with Strenuo, presents him to the Duke, etc. Marc. 
May it please your Highness—  
This was my friend, my very trusty friend  
In all my exigencies, very kind  
To both me and the Lady Arabella.  
Here only, I present him to your Highness—  Str. kneels, etc. Cleon. 
Whatever favours were bestowed on you,  
We do account them done to ourselves—  
— You are his friend, so, Signior, you are ours.  Str. arises, Str. 
May all the blessings of the heavens combine  
To raise your highness to a pitch divine—  Cleon. 
My Lord Marciano, we have always had  
A narrow eye over all your proceedings,  
we've found you loyal, without spot or blemish,  
Valiant, at all adventures, ever faithful,  
And therefore after mature deliberation,  
We here entrust the Government of Sienna,  
Your native country, to your managing—  
gives him a Patent. Here's our Commission— take it, and remember  
Our honour, and the humours of Sienna.  Marc. 
Great Prince, whose daring eye strikes traitors dumb,  
Revives all loyal souls: disperses all  
Rebellions foggy mists: you have this day  
Conferred such honour on your highness servant,  
As were I a base Infidel, yowed persuade  
My heart to faith, my tongue to oratory—  
— Thus— thus, dear Prince, I tender solemnly,  
All homage to your highness, while I die.  Cleon. 
Arise, enjoy those honours, and approve  
Yourself a pattern of both fear and love.  Cleon takes him by the hand. Man. 
— Serenissime, Augustissime— dux  Court. 
— Remove, remove that fellow.  Part. 
— Come— come Sirrah, you think you are in your school. Man. Dux—  Enter Man. Bec-Pant. Strenuo presents them severally to kiss the Duke's hand. Man. harangues. Part. 
Come you villain.  Man. 
Princeps— Tus— Tus— caniae.  Part. drags him off. Court. 
What an impudent rogue is this?  Cleon. 
— As for this Lady, whom thy gentler fates  
Have still reserved for your chaste embraces,  
We still will honour her, as having seen  
Evident signs of her affection,  
And loyalty to us—  Ar. 
And still shall be,  
Dear Prince, so much as in a Woman lies,  
I'll offer prayers and tears, and sacrifice,  
The first fruits of my wishes; I'll implore  
Such blessings, as the gods have heaped in store,  
May rain upon your royal highness head,  
That in your eyes heavens favours may be read—  1. Court. 
May foreign Princes his great power envy—  2. Court. 
May he his treacherous enemies plots defy—  Leon. 
May he restore our former happiness—  Cass. 
And Medicis great princely house increase—  Marc. 
While all his faithful Subjects long to see  
The royal hopes of his posterity—  All. 
— Long live our Prince, and may he still appear,  
The brightest Star in all our Hemisphere.  
A joyful noise within, etc.  Exeunt omnes. Plaudite. 
FINIS