A Very Woman, Or the PRINCE of TARENT.  
A tragicomedy.  
As it hath been often acted at the Private-House in Blackfriars, by his late Majesty's Servants, with great Applause.  
Written by PHILIP Massinger, Gent.  
LONDON, Printed for Humphrey Moseley, and are to be sold at his shop at the sign of the Prince's Arms in St. Paul's Churchyard. 1655.   

PROLOGUE.  

To such (and some there are, no question here,)  
Who happy in their memories do bear  
This Subject long since acted, and can say  
Truly, we have seen something like this Play.  
Our Author with becoming Modesty  
(For in this kind he ne'er was bold) by me,  
In his defence, thus answers, By command  
He undertook this task, nor could it stand  
With his love Fortune to refuse to do;  
What by his Patron he was called unto.  
For whose delight and yours, we hope, with care  
He hath reviewed it; and with him we dare  
Maintain to any man, that did allow  
'T was good before, it is much bettered now;  
Nor is it sure against the Proclamation,  
To raise new Piles upon an old Foundation,  
So much to them delivered; to the rest,  
To whom each scene is fresh, he doth protest,  
Should his Muse fail now a fair flight to make,  
He cannot fancy what will please, or take.    


VIceroy of Sicily  
Pedro his Son  
Duke of Messina  
Don Martinto Cardenes his Son  
Don John Antonlo, Prince of Tarent  
Doctor Paulo, A Physician  
Cuculo, A Sicilian  
Apothecary  
Citizen  
Master  
Man  
Captain  
Page  
Servants  
Slaves  
Moors  
Pirates  
Guard.   

Almira, The viceroy's Daughter  
Leonora, Duke of Messina's Niece  
Borachia, Wife to Cuculo  
Two Women.   
The Scene SICILY.   

A Very Woman.  

Act. I. Scaen. I.  Enter Pedro and Leonora: Ped. 

MY worthiest Mistress! this day cannot end  
But prosperous to Pedro, that begins  
With this so wished encounter.   Leo. 

Only, Servant,  
To give you thanks in your own Courtly language,  
Would argue me more ceremonious  
Than heartily affected; and you are  
Too well assured, or I am miserable,  
Our equal loves have kept one rank too long  
To stand at distance now.   Ped. 

You make me happy  
In this so wise reproof, which I receive  
As a chaste favour from you, and will ever  
Hold such a strong command o'er my desires,  
That though my Blood turn Rebel to my Reason,  
I never shall presume to seek aught from you,  
But what (your honour safe) you well may grant me,  
And Virtue sign the Warrant.   Leo. 

Your love to me  
So limited, will still preserve your Mistress  
Worthy her servant, and in your restraint  
Of loose affections, bind me faster to you:  
But there will be a time when we may welcome  
Those wished for pleasures, as heaven's greatest blessings;  
When that the Viceroy your most noble father,  
And the Duke my uncle, and to that, my Guardian,  
Shall by their free consent confirm them lawful.   Ped. 

You ever shall direct, and I obey you:  
Is my sister stirring yet?   Leo. 

Long since.   Ped. 

Some business  
With her, joined to my service to your self,  
Hath brought me hither; pray you vouchsafe the favour  
T'acquaint her with so much.   Leo. 

I am prevented.   Enter Almira and two women. Alm. 

Do the rest here; my Cabinet is too hot,  
This room is cooler. Brother!   Ped. 

Morrow sister,  
Do I not come unseasonably?   Al. 

Why good brother?   Ped. 

Because you are not yet fully made up,  
Nor fit for visitation. There are Ladies  
And great ones, that will hardly grant access  
On any terms to their own Fathers, as  
They are themselves, nor willingly be seen  
Before they have asked council of their Doctor,  
How the Cervize will appear, newly laid on  
When they ask blessing.   Al. 

Such indeed there are  
That would be still young, in despite of time,  
That in the wrinkled winter of their age  
Would force a seeming April of fresh beauty,  
As if it were within the power of art  
To frame a second nature: But for me,  
And for your Mistress, I dare say as much;  
The faces, and the teeth you see, we slept with.   Ped. 

Which is not frequent, sister, with some  
Ladies.   Al. 

You spy no sign of any night,—  
Mask here,  
(Tie on my carcanet) nor does your nostril  
Take in the scent of strong perfumes, to stifle  
The sourness of our breaths as we are fasting:  
You are in a Lady's chamber, gentle Brother,  
And not in your Apothecary's shop.  
We use the women, you perceive, that serve us,  
Like servants, not like such as do create us:  
'Faith search our pockets, and if you find there  
Comfits of Ambergris to help our kisses,  
Conclude us faulty.   Ped. 

You are pleasant, sister,  
And I am glad to find you so disposed,  
You will the better hear me.   Al. 

What you please, Sir.   Ped. 

I am entreated by the Prince of Tarent  
Don John Antonio.   Al. 

Would you would choose  
Some other subject.   Ped. 

Pray you give me leave,  
For his desires are fit for you to hear,  
As for me to prefer. This Prince of Tarent  
(Let it not wrong him, that I call him friend)  
Finding your choice of Don Cardenes liked of  
By both your fathers, and his hopes cut off,  
Resolves to leave Palermo.   Al. 

He does well,  
That I hear gladly.   Ped. 

How this Prince came hither,  
How bravely furnished, how attended on,  
How he hath borne himself here, with what charge  
He hath continued; his magnificence  
In costly Banquets, curious Masques, rare Presents,  
And of all sorts, you cannot but remember.   Al. 

Give me my Gloves.   Ped. 

Now, for reward of all  
His cost, his travel, and his duteous service,  
He does entreat that you will please he may  
Take his leave of you, and receive the favour  
Of kissing of your hands.   Al. 

You are his friend,  
And shall discharge the part of one to tell him  
That he may spare the trouble; I desire not  
To see, or hear more of him.   Ped. 

Yet grant this,  
Which a mere stranger in the way of Courtship  
Might challenge from you.   Al. 

And obtain it sooner.   Ped. 

One reason for this would do well.   Al. 

My will  
Shall now stand for a thousand; shall I lose  
The privilege of my sex, which is my Will,  
To yield a Reason like a man? or you  
Deny your Sister that which all true women  
Claim as their first prerogative, which Nature  
Gave to them for a law? and should I break it,  
I were no more a woman.   Ped. 

Sure a good one  
You cannot be, if you put off that virtue  
Which best adorns a good one, Courtesy  
And affable behaviour. Do not flatter  
Yourself with the opinion that your birth,  
Your beauty, or whatever false ground else  
You raise your pride upon, will stand against  
The censure of just men.   Al. 

Why let it fall then,  
I still shall be unmoved.   Leo. 

And pray you be you so.   Al. 

What Jewel's that?   Wo. 

That which the Prince of Tarent—   Al. 

Left here, and you received without my knowledge;  
I have use of't now. Does the Page wait without,  
My Lord Cardenes sent t'enquire my health?   Wo. 

Yes Madam.   Al. 

Give it him, and with it pray him  
To return my service to his Lord, and mine.   Ped. 

Will you so undervalue one that has  
So truly loved you, to bestow the pledge  
Of his affection (being a Prince) upon  
The servant of his Rival?   Leo. 

'Tis not well,  
'Faith, were it Lady? send gold to the Boy.  
'Twill please him better.   Al. 

Do as I command you,  
I will keep nothing that may put me in mind  
Don John Antonio ever loved, or was,  
Being wholly now Cardenes.   Ped. 

In another  
This were mere barbarism, sister, and in you  
(For I'll not soothe you) at the best 'tis rudeness.   Al. 

Rudeness?   Ped. 

Yes rudeness, and what's worse, the want  
Of civil manners, nay ingratitude  
Unto the many and so fair deservings  
Of Don Antonio: does this express  
Your breeding in the Court, or that you call  
The Viceroy father? A poor peasant's daughter  
That ne'er had conversation but with beasts  
(Or men bred like them) would not so far shame  
Her education.   Al. 

Pray you leave my chamber;  
I know you for a Brother, not a Tutor.   Leo: 

You are too violent, Madam.   Al. 

Were my Father  
Here to command me, (as you take upon you  
Almost to play his part) I would refuse it.  
Where I love, I profess it; where I hate,  
In every circumstance I dare proclaim it:  
Of all that wear the shapes of men, I loathe  
That Prince you plead for; no antipathy  
Between things most averse in nature, hold  
A stronger enmity than his with mine:  
With which rest satisfied; if not, your anger  
May wrong yourself, not me.   Leo. 

My Lord Cardenes!   Ped. 

Go; in soft terms,  
If you persist thus,  
You will be one.   Al. 

What one? pray you out with it:   Ped. 

Why, one that I shall wish a stranger to me,  
That I might curse you: but—   Enter Martino. Mar. 

Whence grows this heat?   Ped. 

Be yet advised, and entertain him fairly,  
For I will send him to you, or no more  
Know me a Brother.   Al. 

As you please.   Ped. 

Good morrow.   Exit. Mar. 

Good morrow, and part thus? you seem moved too:  
What desperate fool durst raise a tempest here  
To sink himself?   Al 

Good sir, have patience;  
The cause (though I confess I am not pleased)  
No way deserves your anger:   Mar. 

Not mine, Madam?  
As if the least offence could point at you,  
And I not feel it: 'As you have vouchsafed me  
The promise of your heart, conceal it not,  
Whomsoever it concerns.   Al. 

It is not worth  
So serious an enquiry: My kind Brother  
Had a desire to learn me some new Courtship  
Which I distasted, that was all.   Mar. 

Your Brother,  
In being yours, with more security  
He might provoke you; yet if he hath passed  
A Brother's bounds—   Leo. 

What then, my Lord?   Mar. 

Believe it,  
I'll call him to account for't.   Leo. 

Tell him so.   Al. 

No more.   Leo. 

Yes, thus much; though my modesty  
Be called in question for it, in his absence  
I will defend him: He hath said nor done  
But what Don Pedro well might say or do.  
Mark me, Don Pedro! in which understand  
As worthy, and as well as can be hoped for  
Of those that love him best, from Don Gardenes.   Mar. 

This to me Cousin?   Al. 

You forget yourself.   Leo. 

No, nor the cause, in (which you did so Lady)  
Which is so just, that it needs no concealing  
On Pedro's part.   Al. 

What mean you.   Leo. 

I dare speak it,  
If you dare hear it, Sir: He did persuade  
Almira, your Almira, to vouchsafe  
Some little conference with the Prince of Tarent  
Before he left the Court; and that the world  
Might take some notice, though he prospered not  
In his so loved design, he was not scorned,  
He did desire the kissing of her hand,  
And then to leave her; this was much:   Mar. 

'Twas more  
Than should have been urged by him, well denied  
On your part, Madam, and I thank you for't.  
Antonio had his answer, I your grant:  
And why your Brother should prepare for him  
An after interview, or private favour,  
I can find little reason.   Leo. 

None at all.  
Why you should be displeased with't.   Mar 

His respect  
To me, as things now are, should have weighed down  
His former friendship, 'twas done indiscreetly,  
I would be loath to say maliciously,  
To build up the demolished hopes of him  
That was my Rival: What had he to do  
(If he view not my happiness in your favour,  
With wounded eyes) to take upon himself  
An office so distasteful?   Leo. 

You may ask  
As well, what, any Gentleman has to do  
With civil courtesy   Al. 

Or you with that,  
Which at no part concerns you: Good my Lord  
Rest satisfied, that I saw him not, nor will.  
And that, nor Father, Brother, nor the world  
Can work me unto any thing, but what  
You give allowance too; in which assurance  
With this, I leave you.   Leo. 

Nay take me along,  
You are not angry too?   Al. 

Presume on that.   Exeunt: Mar: 

Am I assured of her, and shall again  
Be tortured with suspicion to lose her,  
Before I have enjoyed her? the next Sun  
Shall see her mine; why should I doubt then? yet  
To doubt is safer, than to be secure  
But one short day: Great Empires in less time  
Have suffered change; she's constant, but a woman,  
And what a lover's vows, persuasions, tears,  
May in a minute work upon such frailty.  
There are too many, and too sad examples.  
The Prince of Tarent gone, all were in safety;  
Or not admitted to solicit her,  
My fears would quit me; 'tis my fault, if I  
Give way to that, and let him ne'er desire  
To own what's hard, that dares not guard it.  
Who waits there?   Enter Servants and Page. Serv. 

Would your Lordship might?   Mar. 

'Tis well  
You are so near.   Enter Don John, and Servant. John. 

Take care all things be ready  
For my remove.   Serv. 

They are.   Mar. 

We meet like Friends,  
No more like Rivals now: my emulation  
Puts on the shape of love and service to you.   John. 

It is returned:   Mar. 

'Twas rumoured in the Court  
You were to leave the City, and that won me  
To find you out: Your Excellence may wonder  
That I that never saw you till this hour,  
But that I wished you dead, so willingly  
Should come to wait upon you to the Ports,  
And there, with hope you never will look back,  
Take my last farewell of you.   John. 

Never look back?   Mar. 

I said so, neither is it fit you should;  
And may I prevail with you as a friend,  
You never shall, nor while you live hereafter  
Think of the Viceroy's Court, or of Palermo,  
But as a grave, in which the Prince of Tarent  
Buried his honour.   John. 

You speak in a language  
I do not understand.   Mar. 

No? I'll be plainer.  
What madman, that came hither with that pomp  
Don John Antonio did, that exact Courtier  
Don John Antonio, with whose brave fame only  
Great Princesses have fallen in love, and died;  
That came with such assurance as young Paris  
Did to fetch Helen, being sent back, contemned,  
Disgraced and scorned, his large expense laughed at,  
His bravery scoffed, the Lady that he courted  
Left quietly in possession of another  
(Not to be named that day a Courtier  
Where he was mentioned, the scarce known Cardenes,  
And he to bear her from him) that would ever  
Be seen again (having got fairly off)  
By such as will live ready witnesses  
Of his repulse, and scandal?   John. 

The grief of it,  
Believe me, will not kill me. All man's honour  
Depends not on the most uncertain favour  
Of a fair Mistress.   Mar. 

Troth, you bear it well.  
You should have seen some that were sensible  
Of a disgrace, that would have raged, and sought  
To cure their honour, with some strange revenge:  
But you are better tempered; and they wrong  
The Neapolitans in their report,  
That say they are fiery spirits, uncapable  
Of the least injury, dangerous to be talked with  
After a loss, where nothing can move you.  
But, like a Stoic, with a constancy,  
Words nor affronts, can shake, you still go on  
And smile when men abuse you.   John. 

If they wrong  
Themselves, I can: yet I would have you know,  
I dare be angry.   Mar. 

'Tis not possible.  
A taste of't would do well: And I'd make trial  
What may be done. Come hither Boy, you have seen  
This Jewel, as I take it.   John. 

Yes, 'tis that  
I gave Almira.   Mar. 

And in what esteem  
She held it, coming from your worthy self,  
You may perceive, that freely hath bestowed it  
Upon my Page.   John. 

When I presented it,  
I did not indent with her, to what use  
She should employ it.  
See the kindness of  
A loving soul; who, after this neglect,  
Nay gross contempt, will look again upon her,  
And not be frighted from it.   John. 

No indeed Sir,  
Nor give way longer: Give way, do you mark,  
To your loose wit, to run the wild-goose chase,  
Six syllables further: I will see the Lady,  
That Lady, that dotes on you, from whose hate  
My love increases, though you stand elected  
Her Porter, to deny me.   Mar. 

Sure you will not.   John. 

Yes, instantly: Your prosperous success  
Hath made you insolent; and for her sake  
I have thus long forborn you; and can yet  
Forget it, and forgive it, ever provided,  
That you end here, and for what is past recalling,  
That she make intercession for your pardon,  
Which at her suit, I'll grant.   Mar. 

I am much unwilling  
To move her for a trifle; bear that too,  
And then she shall speak to you.   John. 

Men and Angels,  
Take witness for me, that I have endured  
More than a man:— O do not fall so soon,  
Stand up; take my hand, so: When I have printed  
For ever contumelious word, a wound here,  
Then sink for ever.   Mar. 

O! I suffer justly.   Serv. 

Murder, murder, murder. Exe. Servants.   2. Serv. 

Apprehend him.   3. Serv. 

We'll all join with you.   John. 

I do wish you more,  
My fury will be lost else, if it meet not  
Matter to work on; one life is too little  
For so much injury.   Enter Almira, Leonora, Servants. Al. 

O my Cardenes,  
Thou dead, still my Cardenes: Villains, cowards,  
What do ye check at? can one arm, and that  
A murderers, so long guard the cursed Master,  
Against so many swords, made sharp with Justice?   1. Serv. 

Sure he will kill us all; he is a devil.   2. Serv. 

He is invulnerable.   Al. 

Your base fears  
Beget such fancies in you: Give me a sword,  
This my weak arm, made strong in my revenge,  
Shall force a way to't.   John. 

Would it were deeper Madam,  
The thrust; which I would not put by, being yours  
Of greater force, to have pierced through that heart  
Which still retains your figure: Weep still Lady,  
For every tear that flows from those grieved eyes,  
Some part of that which maintains life, goes from me.  
And so to die, were in a gentle slumber  
To pass to Paradise; but you envy me  
So quiet a departure from my world,  
My world of miseries; therefore take my sword,  
And having killed me with it, cure the wounds  
It gave Cardenes.   Enter Pedro. Ped. 

'Tis too true: Was ever  
Valour so ill employed?   John. 

Why stay you Lady?  
Let not soft pity work on your hard nature:  
You cannot do a better office to  
The dead Cardenes, and I willingly  
Shall fall a ready sacrifice, to appease him,  
Your fair hand offering it.   Al. 

Thou couldst ask nothing  
But this, which I would grant:   Lev. 

Flint-hearted Lady!   Ped. 

Are you a woman, Sister?   Al. 

Thou art not  
A Brother, I renounce that title to thee:  
Thy hand is in this bloody act; 'twas this  
For which that savage homicide was sent hither.  
Thou equal Judge of all things, if that blood,  
And innocent blood—   Al. 

Oh Cardenes,  
How is my soul rent between rage and sorrow,  
That it can be, that such an upright Cedar  
Should violently be torn up by the roots,  
Without an earthquake in that very moment  
To swallow them that did it.   John. 

The hurt's nothing,  
But the deep wound is in my conscience, friend,  
Which sorrow in death only can recover.   Ped. 

Have better hopes.   Enter Viceroy, Messina, Captain, Guard, and Servants. Mess. 

My son, is this the marriage  
I came to celebrate? false hopes of man,  
I come to find a grave here.   Al. 

I have wasted  
My stock of Tears, and now just Anger help me  
To pay in my Revenge the other part  
Of duty which I owe thee. O great Sir,  
Not as a Daughter now, but a poor Widow,  
Made so before she was a Bride, I fly  
To your impartial justice; the offence  
Is death, and death in his most horrid form:  
Let not then title, or a PRINCE's name  
(Since a great crime is in a great man greater)  
Secure the Offender.   Mess. 

Give me life for life,  
As thou wilt answer it to the great King  
Whose Deputy thou art here.   Al. 

And speedy Justice.   Mess. 

Put the damned wretch to torture.   Al. 

Force him to  
Reveal his cursed Confederates, which spare not,  
Although you find a Son among them.   Vice. 

How?   Mess. 

Why bring you not the Rack forth?   Al. 

Wherefore stands the Murderer unbound?   Vice. 

Shall I have hearing?   Mess. 

Excellent Lady, in this you express  
Your true love to the dead.   Al. 

All love to mankind from me, ends with him.   Vice. 

Will you hear me yet?  
And first to you; you do confess the fact  
With which you stand charged?   John. 

I will not make worse  
What is already ill, with vain denial.   Vice. 

Then understand, though you are Prince of Tarent,  
Yet being a Subject to the King of Spain,  
No privilege of Sicily can free you  
Being convict by a just form of Law,  
From the municipal Statutes of that Kingdom,  
But as a common man, being found guilty,  
Must suffer for it.   John. 

I prize not my life  
So much, as to appeal from any thing  
You shall determine of me.   Vice. 

Yet despair not  
To have an equal hearing; the exclaims  
Of this grieved Father, nor my daughter's tears  
Shall sway me from myself; and where they urge  
To have you tortured, or led bound to prison,  
I must not grant it.   Mess. 

No?   Vice. 

I cannot sir;  
For men of his rank are to be distinguished  
From other men, before they are condemned,  
From which (his cause not heard) he yet stands free:  
So take him to your charge, and as your life  
See he be safe.   Capt. 

Let me die for him else.   Exe. Ped. John, Cap. & guard. Mess. 

The guard of him should have been given to me.   Al. 

Or unto me.   Mess. 

Bribes may corrupt the Captain.   Al. 

And our just wreak, by force or cunning practice,  
With scorn prevented   Mar. 

Oh!   Al. 

What groan is that?   Vice. 

They're apparent signs of life yet in him.   Al. 

Oh that there were! that I could pour my blood  
Into his veins!   Mar. 

Oh, oh!   Vice. 

Take him up gently.   Mess. 

Run for Physicians.   Al. 

Surgeons.   Mess. 

All helps else.   Vice. 

This care of his recovery, timely practised,  
Would have expressed more of a Father in you,  
Than your impetuous clamours for revenge.  
But I shall find fit time to urge that further  
Hereafter to you; 'tis not fit for me  
To add weight to oppressed calamity.   Exeunt.  

Act. 2. Scaen. 1.  Enter Pedro, Don John, Captain. John. 

WHy should your love to me, having already  
So oft endured the test, be put unto  
A needless trial? have you not long since  
In every circumstance and rite of friendship  
Outgone all precedents the Ancients boast of,  
And will you yet move further?   Ped. 

Hitherto  
I have done nothing (howsoe'er you value  
My weak endeavours) that may justly claim  
A title to your friendship, and much less  
Laid down the debt, which as a tribute due  
To your deservings, not I, but mankind  
Stands bound to tender.   John. 

Do not make an Idol  
Of him that should, and without superstition,  
To you build up an Altar. O my Pedro,  
When I am to expire, to call you mine  
Assures a future happiness: Give me leave  
To argue with you, and the fondness of  
Affection struck blind, with justice hear me.  
Why should you, being innocent, fling your life  
Into the furnace of your father's anger  
For my offence? Or take it granted, (yet  
'Tis more than supposition) you prefer  
My safety 'fore your own, (so prodigally  
You waste your favours) wherefore should this Captain  
His blood and sweat rewarded in the favour  
Of his great Master, falsify the trust  
Which from true judgement he reposes in him,  
For me a stranger?   Ped. 

Let him answer that,  
He needs no prompter: Speak your thoughts, and freely.   Capt. 

I ever loved to do so, and it shames not  
The bluntness of my breeding; from my youth  
I was trained up a Soldier, one of those  
That in their natures love the dangers more  
Than the rewards of danger. I could add,  
My life, when forfeited, the Viceroy pardoned,  
But by his intercession; and therefore  
It being lent by him, I were ungrateful  
(Which I will never be) if I refused  
To pay that debt at any time demanded.   Ped. 

I hope, friend, this will satisfy you.   John. 

No, it raises  
More doubts within me. Shall I from the school  
Of gratitude, in which this Captain reads  
The text so plainly, learn to be unthankful?  
Or viewing in your actions the Idea  
Of perfect Friendship, when it does point to me  
How brave a thing it is to be a Friend,  
Turn from the object? Had I never loved  
The fair Almira for her outward features,  
Nay, were the beauties of her mind suspected,  
And her contempt and scorn painted before me,  
The being your Sister would anew inflame me  
With much more impotence to dote upon her:  
No, dear friend, let me in my death confirm  
(Though you in all things else have the precedence)  
I'll die ten times, ere one of Pedro's hairs  
Shall suffer in my cause.   Ped. 

If you so love me,  
In love to that part of my soul dwells in you,  
(For though two bodies, friends have but one soul.)  
Loose not both life and me.   Enter a Servant. 1. Serv. 

The Prince is dead.   Exit. John. 

If so, shall I leave Pedro here to answer  
For my escape? As thus I clasp thee, let  
The Viceroys sentence find me.   Ped. 

Fly for heaven's sake,  
Consider the necessity; though now  
We part Anthonio we, may meet again;  
But death's division is for ever, friend.   Enter another Servant. 2. Serv. 

The rumor spread Sir, of Martino's death,  
Is checked, there's hope of his recovery.   John. 

Why should I fly then? when I may enjoy  
With mine own life, my friend.   Ped. 

That's still uncertain,  
He may have a relapse; for once be ruled friend.  
He's a good debtor that pays when 'tis due;  
A prodigal, that before it is required,  
Makes tender of it.   Enter three or four Sailors. 1. Sail. 

The Bark, Sir, is ready.   2. Sail. 
The wind sits fair.  Whistles within. 3. Sail. 

Heaven favours your escape.   Cap. 

Hark how the Boatswain whistles you aboard.  
Will nothing move you?   John. 

Can I leave my friend?   Pedro. 

I must delay no longer, force him home.   Capt. 

I'll run the hazard of my fortunes with you,   John. 

What violence is this? hear but my Reasons.   Pedro. 

Poor friendship that is cooled with Arguments.  
Away, away.   Capt. 

For Malta.   Pedro. 

You shall hear  
All our events.   John. 

I may sail round the world,  
But never meet thy like. Pedro.   Pedro. 

Anthonio.   John. 

I breathe my soul back to thee.   Pedro. 

In exchange  
Bear mine along with thee.   Gapt. 

Cherely my hearts.   Exeunt. Ped. 

He's gone. May pittying-Heaven his Pilot be,  
And then I weigh not what becomes of me.   Exit. Enter Viceroy, Messina, and Attendants. Vice. 

I tell you right Sir.   Mes. 

Yes, like a rough Surgeon,  
Without a feeling in yourself, you search  
My wounds unto the quick, then pray declare  
The tediousness, and danger of the cure,  
Never remembering what the Patient suffers.  
But you preach this Philosophy to a man  
That does partake of passion, and not  
To a dull Stoic.   Vice. 

I confess you have  
Just cause to mourn your Son; and yet if reason  
Cannot yield comfort, let example cure.  
I am a Father too, my only daughter  
As dear in my esteem, perhaps as worthy  
As your Martino, in her love to him  
As desperately ill, either's loss equal,  
And yet I bear it with a better temper.   Enter Pedro. Pedro. 

Which if you please to imitate 'twill not wrong  
Your piety, nor your judgement.   Mes. 

We were fashioned in different moulds,  
I weep with mine own eyes Sir, pursue my ends too,  
Pity to you's a Cordial,  
Revenge to me, and that I must, and will have  
If my Martino die.   Pedro. 

Your must, and will,  
Shall in your full sailed confidence deceive you.   Lord 

here's Doctor Paulo Sir.   Enter Doctor Paulo, two Surgeons. Mes. 

My hand? you rather  
Deserve my knee, and it shall bend as to  
A second Father, if your saving aids  
Restore my son.   Vice. 

'Rise thou bright star of knowledge,  
The honour of thy art, thou help of nature,  
Thou glory of our Academies.   Doct. 

If I blush Sir  
To hear these attributes ill placed on me,  
It is excusable, I am no God Sir,  
Nor holy Saint that can do miracles,  
But a weak sinful man: Yet that I may  
In some proportion deserve these favours,  
Your excellencies please to grace me with,  
I promise all the skill I have acquired  
In simples, or the careful observation  
Of the superior Bodies, with my judgement  
Derived from long experience, stand ready  
To do you service.   Mes. 

Modestly replied.   Vice 

How is it with you princely Patient?   Mes. 

Speak,  
But speak some comfort Sir.   Doct. 

I must speak truth,  
His wounds, though many, Heaven so guided yet  
Anthonio's sword, it pierced no part was mortal.  
These Gentlemen who worthily deserve  
The names of surgeons have done their duties.  
The means they practised, not ridiculous charms  
To stop the blood; no Oils, nor Balsams bought  
Of cheating Quacksalvers, or mountebanks,  
By them applied: The rules by Chiron taught,  
And AEsculapius, which drew upon him,  
The thunderers envy, they with care pursued,  
Heaven prospering their endeavours.   Mes. 

There is hope then  
Of his recovery?   Doct. 

But no assurance;  
I must not flatter you. That little air  
Of comfort that breathes towards us (for I dare not  
Rob these t'enrich myself) you owe their care;  
For yet I have done nothing.   Mes. 

Still more modest,  
I will begin with them, to either give  
Three thousand crowns.   Vice. 

I'll double your reward;  
See 'em paid presently.   1. Surg. 

This magnificence  
With equity, cannot be conferred on us;  
'Tis due unto the Doctor.   2. Surg 

True; we were  
But his subordinate ministers, and did only  
Follow your grave directions.   Doct. 

'Tis your own,  
I challenge no part in it.   Vice 

Brave on both sides.   Doct. 

Deserve this, with the honour that will follow  
In your attendance.   2. Surg. 

If both sleep at once,  
'Tis justice both should die.   Exeunt Surgeons: Mes 

For you grave Doctor,  
We will not in such petty sums consider  
Your high deserts. Our treasury lies open,  
Command it as your own.   Vice 

Choose any Castle,  
Nay City, in our Government, and be Lord of't.   Doct. 

Of neither Sir, I am not so ambitious;  
Nor would I have your highness's secure.  
We have but faintly yet begun our journey,  
A thousand difficulties and dangers must be  
Encountered, ere we end it. Though his hurts,  
I mean his outward ones, do promise fair,  
There is a deeper one, and in his mind  
Must be with care provided for. Melancholy,  
And at the height, too near of kin to madness,  
Possesses him; his senses are distracted,  
Not one, but all; and if I can collect 'em  
With all the various ways, invention,  
Or industry ever practised, I shall write it  
My masterpiece.   Mes. 

You more and more engage me.   Vice. 

May we not visit him?   Doct. 

By no means Sir,  
As he is now, such courtesies come untimely,  
I'll yield you reason for't. Should he look on you,  
It will renew the memory of that  
Which I would have forgotten. Your good prayers  
(And those I do presume, shall not be wanting  
To my endeavours) are the utmost aids  
I yet desire your Excellencies should grant me.  
So with my humblest service.   Mes. 

Go and prosper.   Exit Doctor. Vice. 

Observe his piety I have heard, how true  
I know not, most Physicians as they grow  
Greater in skill, grow less in their Religion.  
Attributing so much to natural causes,  
That they have little faith in that they cannot  
Deliver Reason for: This Doctor steers  
Another course; but let this pass, if you please.  
Your company to my Daughter.   Mes. 

I wait on you.   Exeunt. Enter Leonora, and two Women. Leon. 

Took she no rest tonight?   1. Wom. 

Not any Madam,  
I am sure she slept not. If she slumbered straight,  
As if some dreadful vision had appeared,  
She started up, her hair unbound, and with  
Distracted looks, staring about the Chamber,  
She asks aloud; where is Martino? where  
Have you concealed him? sometimes names Anthonio,  
Trembling in every joint, her brows contracted:  
Her fair face as 'twere changed into a curse,  
Her hands held up thus, and as if her words  
Were too big to find passage through her mouth.  
She groans, then throws herself upon her Bed,  
Beating her Breast.   Leon. 

'Tis wondrous strange.   2. Wom. 

Nay more,  
She that of late vouchsafed not to be seen,  
But so adorned, as if she were to rival  
Nero's Poppea, or the Egyptian Queen,  
Now careless of her beauties; when we offer  
Our service, she contemns it.   Leon. 

Does she not  
Sometimes forsake her Chamber?   2. Wom. 

Much about  
This hour, then with a strange unsettled gate  
She measures twice, or thrice the Gallery,  
Silent, and frowning (we dare not speak to her)  
And then returns. She's come, pray you now observe her.   Enter Almira in black, carelessly habited. Al. 

Why are my eyes fixed on the ground, and not  
Bent upwards? Ha! that which was mortal of  
My dear Martino, as a debt to nature,  
I know this mother Earth hath sepulchred:  
But his diviner part, his Soul, o'er which  
The tyrant death, nor yet the fatal sword  
Of cursed Anthonio, his Instrument,  
Had the least power, borne upon Angels wings,  
Appointed to that office, mounted far  
Above the Firmament.   Leon. 

Strange imagination!  
Dear Cousin your Martino lives.   Al. 

I know you,  
And that in this you flatter me. He's dead,  
As much as could die of him: But look yonder  
Amongst a million of glorious lights  
That deck the heavenly Canopy; I have  
Discerned his soul transformed into a star.  
Do you not see it?   Leon. 

Lady.   Al. 

Look with my eyes.  
What splendour circles it! the heavenly Archer  
Not far off distant, appears dim with envy,  
Viewing himself outshined. Bright Constellation  
Dart down thy beams of pity on Almira;  
And since thou findst such grace where now thou art,  
As I did truly love thee on the Earth,  
Like a kind Harbinger, prepare my lodging,  
And place me near thee.   Leon. 

I much more than fear,  
She'll grow into a frenzy.   Al. 

How! what's this?  
A dismal sound! Come nearer Cousin, lay  
Your ear close to the ground, closer I pray you.  
Do you howl? are you there Anthonio?   Leon. 

Where sweet Lady?   Al. 

I'th' Vault, in Hell, on the infernal rack,  
Where murderers are tormented: jerk him soundly.  
'T was Rhadamanth's sentence; Do your office Furies.  
How he roars! what plead to me to mediate for you?  
I am deaf, I cannot hear you.   Leon. 

'Tis but fancy,  
Collect yourself.   Al. 

Leave babbling; 'tis rare Music.  
Rhamnusia plays on a pair of tongs  
Red hot; and Proserpine dances to the comfort;  
Pluto sits laughing by too. So, enough,  
I do begin to pity him.   Leon 

I wish, Madam,  
You would show it to yourself.   2. Wom. 

Her fit begins  
To leave her.   Al. 

O my brains! are you there Cousin?   Leon. 

Now she speaks temperately. I am ever ready  
To do you service: How do you?   Al. 

Very much troubled.  
I have had the strangest waking dream of Hell  
And Heaven, I know not what.   Leon. 

My Lord your Father  
Is come to visit you. As ye would not grieve him  
That is so tender of you, entertain him  
With a becoming duty.   Enter Viceroy, Messinae, Pedro, Attendants: Vice. 

Still forlorn?  
No comfort my Almira?   Mes. 

In your sorrow,  
For my Martino, Madam, you have expressed  
All possible love and tenderness. Too much of it  
Will wrong yourself, and him. He may live Lady  
(For we are not past hope) with his future service,  
In some part to deserve it.   Al. 

If Heaven please  
To be so gracious to me, I'll serve him  
With such obedience, love, and humbleness,  
That I will rise up an example for  
Good wives to follow: But until I have  
Assurance what fate will determine of me,  
Thus like a desolate Widow, give me leave  
To weep for him; for should he die, I have vowed  
Not to outlive him; and my humble suit is,  
One Monument may cover us, and Anthonio  
In justice you must grant me that be offered  
A Sacrifice to our Ashes.   Vice. 

Prithee put off  
These sad thoughts, both shall live (I doubt it not)  
A happy pair.   Enter Viceroy, Cuculo, and Borachia, Cuc. 

O Sir, the foulest treason  
That ever was discovered.   Vice. 

Speak it, that  
We may prevent it.   Cuc. 

Nay 'tis past prevention,  
Though you allow me wise (in modesty,  
I will not say oraculous) I cannot help it.  
I am a Statesman, and some say a wise one,  
But I could never conjure, nor divine  
Of things to come.   Vice. 

Leave fooling; to the point,  
What treason?   Cuc. 

The false Prince Don John Anthonio  
Is fled.   Vice. 

It is not possible.   Ped. 

Peace, Screech-owl.   Cuc. 

I must speak, and it shall out, sir; the Captain  
You trusted with the Fort, is run away too.   Alm. 

O miserable woman, I defy  
All comfort, cheated too of my revenge!  
As you are my Father sir, and you my Brother,  
I will not curse you; but I dare, and will say  
You are unjust and treacherous. If there be  
A way to death, I'll find it.   Exeunt Almira, Leonora, women. Vice. 

Follow her,  
She'll do some violent act upon herself:  
Till she be better tempered, bind her hands,  
And fetch the Doctor to her. Had not you  
A hand in this?   Ped. 

ay sir, I never knew  
Such disobedience.   Vice. 

My honour's touched in't:  
Let Galleys be manned forth in his pursuit,  
Search every Port and Harbour; if I live,  
He shall not 'scape thus.   Mess. 

Fine hypocrisy!  
Away dissemblers, 'tis confederacy  
Betwixt thy son and self, and the false Captain,  
He could not thus have vanished else. Ye have murdered  
My Son amongst you, and now murder Justice.  
You know it most impossible he should live,  
howe'er the Doctor for your ends dissembled,  
And you have shifted hence Anthonio.   Vice: 

Messina, thou art a crazed and grieved old man,  
And being in my Court protected by  
The law of hospitality, or I should  
Give you a sharper answer: May I perish,  
If I knew of his flight.   Mess. 

Fire then the Castle,  
Hang up the captain's wife and children.   Vice. 

Fie sir.   Ped. 

My Lord, you are uncharitable; capital treasons  
Exact not so much.   Mess. 

Thanks most noble Signior,  
We ever had your good word and your love   Cuc. 

Sir, I dare pass my word, my Lords are clear  
Of any imputation in this case  
You seem to load. 'em with.   Mess. 

Impertinent fool;  
No, no, the loving faces you put on  
Have been but grinning vizors: you have juggled me  
Out of my son, and out of justice too.  
But Spain shall do me right; believe me Viceroy,  
There I will force it from thee by the King,  
He shall nor eat nor sleep in peace for me  
Till I am righted for this treachery.   Vice 

Thy worse Messina, since no reason can  
Qualify thy intemperance, the corruption  
Of my subordinate Ministers cannot wrong  
My true integrity, let privy searches  
Examine all the Land.   Ped. 

Fair fall Anthonio.   Ex. Viceroy, Ped. Attend. Cuc. 

This is my wife, my Lord; troth speak your conscience,  
Is't not a goodly Dame?   Mess. 

She is no less Sir,  
I will make use of these; may I entreat you  
To call my Niece.   Bor. 

With speed sir.   Ex. Borachia! Cuc. 

You may my Lord  
Suspect me as an Agent in these State conveyances.  
Let Signior Cuculo then be never more,  
For all his place, wit, and authority,  
Held a most worthy honest Gentleman.   Enter Borachia with Leonora. Mes. 

I do acquit you Signior. Niece you see  
To what extremes I am driven, the cunning Viceroy  
And his son Pedro, having expressed too plainly  
Their cold affections to my son Martino;  
And therefore I conjure thee Leonora,  
By all thy hopes from me, which is my Dukedom,  
If my son fail, however all thy fortunes,  
Though heretofore some love hath passed betwixt  
Don Pedro, and thyself, Abjure him now.  
And as thou keep'st Almira company,  
In this her desolation, so in hate  
To this young Pedro for thy Cousin's love,  
Be her associate; or assure thyself,  
I cast thee like a stranger from my blood.  
If I do ever hear, thou seest, or send'st  
Token, or receive message by you Heaven,  
I never more will own thee.   Leon. 

O dear Uncle,  
You have put a tyrannous yoke upon my heart,  
And it will break it.   Exit Leonard. Mes. 

Gravest Lady; you  
May be a great assister in my ends.  
I buy your diligence thus: Divide this couple,  
Hinder their interviews; fain 'tis her will  
To give him no admittance, if he crave it,  
And thy rewards shall be thine own desires.  
Whereto good Sir, but add your friendly aids,  
And use me to my uttermost.   Cuculo. 

My Lord,  
If my wife please, I dare not contradict.  
Borachia, what do you say?   Bor 

I say, my Lord,  
I know my place, and be assured I will  
Keep fire and toe asunder.   Mes. 

You in this  
Shall much deserve me.   Exit Messina. Cuc. 

We have took upon us  
A heavy charge. I hope you'll now forbear  
Th'excess of Wine.   Bor. 

I will do what I please.  
This day the markets kept for slaves, go you  
And buy me a fine timbered one to assist me.  
I must be better waited on.   Cuc. 

Any thing.   Ped. 

So you'll leave Wine.   Bor. 

Still prating?   Cuc. 

I am gone Duck.   Exit Cuculo. Bor. 

Pedro! so hot upon the scent, I'll fit him.   Enter Pedro. Ped. 

Donna Borachia, you most happily  
Are met to pleasure me.   Bor. 

It may be so,  
I use to pleasure many. Here lies my way,  
I do beseech you Sir, keep on your voyage.   Ped. 

Be not so short, sweet Lady, I must with you.   Bor. 

With me Sir, I beseech you Sir; why, what Sir  
See you in me?   Ped. 

Do not mistake me Lady,  
Nothing but honesty.   Bor. 

Hang honesty;  
Trump me not up with honesty. Do you mark Sir,  
I have a charge Sir, and a special charge Sir;  
And 'tis not honesty can win on me Sir.   Ped. 

Prithee conceive me rightly.   Bor. 

I conceive ye?   Ped. 

But understand.   Bor. 

I will not understand sir,  
I cannot, nor I do not understand sir.   Ped. 

Prithee Borachia, let me see my Mistress;  
But look upon her, stand you by.   Bor. 

How's this?  
Shall I stand by? what do you think of me.  
Now by the virtue of the place I hold,  
You are a Paltry Lord to tempt my trust thus.  
I am no Helen, nor no Hecuba,  
To be deflowered of my loyalty  
With your fair language.   Ped. 

Thou mistak'st me still.   Bor. 

It may be so; my place will bear me out in't;  
And will mistake you still, make you your best on't,   Ped. 

A Pox upon thee, let me but behold her.   Bor. 

A Plague upon you, you shall never see her:   Ped. 

This is a crone in grain! Thou art so testy,  
Prithee take breath, and know thy friends.   Bor. 

I will not,  
I have no friends, nor I will have none this way.  
And now I think on't better, why will you see her?   Ped. 

Because she loves me dearly, I her equally.   Bor. 

She hates you damnably, most wickedly,  
(Build that upon my word) most wickedly;  
And swears her eyes are sick when they behold ye.  
How fearfully have I heard her rail upon ye,  
And cast, and rail again, and cast again;  
Call for hot Waters, and then rail again.   Ped. 

How? 'tis not possible.   Bor. 

I have heard her swear  
(How justly, you best know, and where the cause lies)  
That ye are (I shame to tell it) but it must out.  
Fie, fie, why, how have you deserved it?   Ped. 

I am what?   Bor. 

The beastliest man; why what a grief must this be,  
Sir-reverence of the company, a rank whoremaster:  
Ten livery whores, she assured me on her credit,  
With weeping eyes she spoke it, and seven Citizens,  
Beside all voluntaries that serve under ye,  
And of all Countries.   Ped. 

This must needs be a lie.   Bor. 

Besides ye are so careless of your body,  
Which is a foul fault in ye.   Ped. 

Leave your fooling,  
For this shall be a fable. Happily  
My sister's anger may grow strong against me,  
Which thou mistak'st.   Bor. 

She hates you very well too,  
But your Mistress hates you heartily; look upon ye?  
Upon my conscience, she would see the devil first,  
With eyes as big as saucers. When I but named ye,  
She has leapt back thirty foot: If once she smell ye,  
For certainly ye are rank, she says extreme rank,  
And the wind stand with ye too, she is gone for ever.   Pedro. 

For all this I would see her.   Bor. 

That's all one.  
Have you new eyes when those are scratched out? or a nose  
To clap on warm? Have you proof against a Pisspot;  
Which if they bid me, I must fling upon you?   Ped. 

I shall not see her, than you say?   Bor. 

It seems so.   Ped. 

Prithee be thus far friend, then good Borachia,  
To give her but this Letter, and this Ring,  
And leave thy pleasant lying, which I pardon;  
But leave it in her pocket, there's no harm in't.  
I'll take thee up a Petticoat, will that please thee?   Bor. 

Take up my Petticoat? I scorn the motion,  
I scorn it with my heels; take up my Petticoat?   Ped. 

And why thus hot?   Bor. 

Sir, you shall find me hotter  
If you take up my Petticoat.   Ped. 

I'll give thee a new Petticoat:   Bor. 

I scorn the gift: Take up my Petticoat?  
Alas my Lord, you are too young, my Lord;  
To young my Lord to circumcise me that way.  
Take up my Petticoat? I am a woman,  
A woman of another way, my Lord;  
A Gentlewoman. He that takes up my Petticoat,  
Shall have enough to do, I warrant him.  
I would fain see the proudest of you all so lusty:   Ped. 

Thou art disposed still to mistake me.   Bor. 

Petticoat.  
You show now what you are, but do your worst, Sir.   Ped. 

A wildfire take thee.   Bor. 

I ask no favour of ye,  
And so I leave ye; and withal I charge ye  
In my own name, for sir I would have ye know it,  
In this place I present your father's person:  
Upon your life, not dare to follow me;  
For if you do   Exit Borachia. Ped. 

Go, and the Pox go with thee,  
If thou hast so much moisture to receive 'em.  
For thou wilt have 'em, though a Horse bestow 'em,  
I must devise a way, for I must see her,  
And very suddenly; and Madam Petticoat,  
If all the wit I have, and this can do,  
I'll make you break your charge, and your hope too.   Exit.  

Act. 3. Scaen. 1.  Enter Master, Man, Don John, Captain, with divers Slaves. Mast. 

COme rank yourselves, and stand out handsomely.  
Now ring the Bell, that they may know my Market.  
Stand you two here, you are personable men,  
And apt to yield good sums, if women cheapen:  
Put me that Pig-complexioned fellow behind,  
He will spoil my sale else, the slave looks like famine:  
Sure he was got in a Cheese-press, the whey runs out on's Nose yet.  
He will not yield above a peck of Oysters,  
If I can get a quart of wine in too, ye are gone Sir:  
Why sure, thou hadst no father.   Slave. 

Sure I know not.   Mast: 

No certainly, a March Frog kept thy mother;  
Thou art but a monster Paddock. Look who comes, Sirrah.   Exit Man. 

And next prepare the Song, and do it lively.  
Your tricks too Sirrah; they are ways to catch the buyer,  
And if you do 'em well, they'll prove good Dowries,  
How now?   Enter Man. Man. 

They come Sir, with their bags full loaden.   Mast. 

Reach me my stool. O! here they come:   Enter Doctor, Apothecary, Cuculo, and Citizens. Cuc. 

That's he.  
He never fails monthly to sell his slaves here,  
He buys 'em presently upon their taking,  
And so disperses 'em to every Market.   Mast. 

Begin the song, and chant it merrily—  
Well done.   Doct. 

Good morrow.   Mast. 

Morrow to you Signiors:   Doct. 

We come to look upon your slaves, and buy too,  
If we can like the persons, and the prices.   Cuc. 

They show fine active fellows.   Mast. 

They are no less Sir,  
And people of strong labours.   Doct. 

That's i'th' proof Sir.   Apo. 

Pray what's the price of this Red-bearded fellow?  
If his Call be good, I have certain uses for him.   Mast. 

My Sorrel slaves are of a lower price,  
Because the colours faint. Fifty chequines Sir.   Apo. 

What be his virtues?   Mast. 

He will poison Rats,  
Make him but angry, and his eyes kill Spiders;  
Let him but fasting, spit upon a Toad,  
And presently it bursts, and dies; his dreams kill;  
He'll run you in a wheel, and draw up water;  
But if his Nose drop in't, 'twill kill an army.  
When ye have worn him to the Bones with uses,  
Thrust him into an Oven, luted well,  
Dry him, and beat him, flesh and bone to powder;  
And that kills Scabs and Aches of all climates.   Apo. 

Pray at what distance may I talk to him?   Mast. 

Give him but Sage and Butter in a morning,  
And there's no fear: But keep him from all women,  
For there his poison swells most.   Apo. 

I will have him.  
Cannot he breed a plague too?   Mast. 

Yes, yes, yes.  
Feed him with Fogs probatum. Now to you Sir,  
Do you like this slave?   Cuc. 

Yes, if I like his price well.   Mast. 

The price is full an hundred, nothing bated.  
Sirrah, sell the Moors there; feel, he's high and lusty,  
And of a gamesome nature; bold, and secret,  
Apt to win favour of the man that owns him,  
By diligence, and duty: Look upon him.   Doct. 

Do ye hear Sir?   Mast. 

I'll be with you presently.  
Mark but his limbs, that slave will cost ye fourscore.  
An easy price, turn him about, and view him.  
For these two Sir? why they are the finest children,  
Twins on my credit sir. Do you see this Boy, sir,  
He will run as far from ye in an hour.   Cit. 

Will he so sir?   Mast. 

Conceive me rightly, if upon an errand,  
As any horse you have.   Cit. 

What will this Girl do?   Mast. 

Sure no harm at all sir,  
For she sleeps most an end.   Cit. 

An excellent housewife.  
Of what Religion are they?   Mast. 

What you will sir,  
So there be meat, and drink in't; they'll do little  
That shall offend ye; for their chief desire  
Is to do nothing at all sir.   Cuc. 

A hundred is too much.   Mast. 

Not a doit bated,  
He's a brave slave; his eye shows activeness,  
Fire, and the mettle of a man, dwells in him.  
Here's one you shall have.   Cuc. 

For what?   Mast. 

For nothing,  
And thank ye too.   Doct. 

What can he do?   Mast. 

Why, any thing that's ill,  
And never blush at it: He's so true a thief,  
That he will steal from himself, and think he has got by it.  
He stole out of his Mother's belly, being an Infant,  
And from a lousy Nurse he stole his nature;  
From a Dog his look, and from an Ape his nimbleness;  
He will look in your face, and pick your pockets,  
Rob ye the most wise Rat of a Cheese-paring;  
There where a Cat will go in, he will follow,  
His body has no backbone. In to my company  
He stole, for I never bought him, and will steal in to yours,  
And ye stay a little longer. Now if any of ye  
Be given to the excellent art of lying,  
Behold, before ye here the masterpiece;  
He will outlie him that taught him, Monsieur Devil,  
Offer to swear he has eaten nothing in a twelvemonth,  
When his mouth's full of Meat.   Cuc. 

Pray keep him, he's Jewel,  
And here's your money for this fellow.   Mast. 

He's yours sir?   Cuc. 

Come follow me.   Exit with Don John. Cit. 

Twenty chequines for these two.   Mast. 

For five and twenty take 'em.   Cit. 

There's your money;  
I'll have 'em, if it be to sing in Cages.   Mast. 

Give 'em hard Eggs, you never had such Black birds.   Cit. 

Is she a Maid, dost think?   Mast. 

I dare not swear Sir,  
She is nine year old, at ten you shall find few here:   Cit. 

A merry fellow, thou sayst true. Come children.   Exit with the Moors. Doct. 

Here tell your money; if his life but answer.  
His outward promises, I have bought him cheap Sir.   Mast. 

Too cheap a conscience, he's a pregnant Knave.  
Full of fine thoughts, I warrant him.   Doct. 

He's but weak timbered.   Master 

'Tis the better,  
He will turn Gentleman a great deal sooner.   Doct. 

Very weak Legs.   Mast. 

Strong as the time allows Sir.   Doct. 

What's that fellow?   Mast. 

Who this? The finest thing in all the world Sir,  
The punctualest, and the perfitest, an English mettle,  
But coined in France; your servant's servant Sir,  
Do you understand that? or your shadows servant.  
Will you buy him to carry in a Box! Kiss your hand sirrah;  
Let fall your cloak on one shoulder; face to your left hand;  
Feather your Hat; slope your Hat; now charge your honour.  
What think you of this fellow?   Doct. 

Indeed I know not,  
I never saw such an Ape before. But hark you,  
Are these things serious in his nature?   Mast. 

Yes, yes;  
Part of his Creed: come do some more devices.  
Quarrel a little, and take him for your enemy,  
Do it in dumb show. Now observe him nearly.   Doct. 

This fellow's mad, stark mad.   Mast. 

Believe they are all so.  
I have sold a hundred of'em.   Doct. 

A strange Nation:  
What may the women be?   Mast. 

As mad as they;  
And as I have heard for truth, a great deal madder.  
Yet you may find some civil things amongst 'em;  
But they are not respected. Nay never wonder,  
They have a City Sir, I have been in't,  
And therefore dare affirm it; where, if you saw  
With what a load of vanity 'tis fraughted,  
How like an everlasting Morris-dance it looks;  
Nothing but Hobby-horse, and Maid-marian;  
You would start indeed:   Doct. 

They are handsome men.   Mast. 

Yes: If they would thank their Maker,  
And seek no further; but they have new Creators  
God Tailor, and God Mercer, a kind of Jews Sir,  
But fallen into Idolatry, for they worship  
Nothing with so much service, as the cow-calves.   Doct. 

What do mean you by cow-calves?   Mast. 

Why their women.  
Will you see him do any more tricks?   Doct. 

'Tis enough, I thank ye;  
But yet I'll buy him, for the rareness of him,  
He may make my princely patient mirth, and that done,  
I'll claim him in my study, that at void hours  
I may run o'er the story of his Country.   Mast. 

His price is forty.   Doct. 

Hold, I'll once be foolish,  
And buy a lump of levity to laugh at.   Apo. 

Will your worship walk?   Doct. 

How now Apothecary,  
Have you been buying too?   Apo 

A little Sir;  
A dose or two of mischief.   Doct. 

Fare ye well Sir,  
As these prove, we shall look the next wind for ye.   Mast. 

I shall be with ye Sir.   Doct. 

Who bought this fellow?   2. Cit. 

Not I.   Apo. 

Nor I.   Doct. 

Why does he follow us then?   Mast. 

Did not I tell ye he would steal to ye?   2. Cit. 

Sirrah.  
You mouldy chops, know you crib, I would wish you  
And get from whence you came.   Slave. 

I came from no place.   Doct. 

Wilt thou be my fool, for fools they say, will tell truth.   Sla. 

Yes, if you will give me leave Sir to abuse you,  
For I can do that naturally.   Doct. 

And I can beat ye.   Slave. 

I should be sorry else, Sir.   Mast. 

He looks for that, as duly as his victuals,  
And will be extreme sick when he is not beaten.  
He will be as wanton, when he has a bone broken,  
As a Cat in a bowl on the water.   Doct. 

You will part with him?   Mast. 

To such a friend as you Sir.   Doct. 

And without money?   Mast. 

Not a penny Signior;  
And would he were better for ye.   Doct. 

Follow me then,  
The Knave may teach me something.   Slave. 

Something, that  
You dearly may repent, howe'er you scorn me,  
The slave may prove your Master.   Doct. 

Farewell once more.   Mast. 

Farewell, and when the wind serves next, expect me.   Exeunt. Enter Cuculo, and Don John. Cuc. 

Come Sir, you are mine, Sir, now; you serve a man Sir,  
That when you know more, you will find.   John. 

I hope so   Cuc. 

What dost thou hope?   John. 

To find ye a kind master.   Cuc. 

Find you yourself a diligent true servant,  
And take the precept of the wise before ye,  
And than you may hope Sirrah. Understand:  
You serve me. What is me? a man of credit.   John. 

Yes Sir.   Cuc. 

Of special credit, special office.  
Hear first, and understand again, of special office.  
A man that nods upon the thing he meets,  
And that thing bows.   John. 

'Tis fit it should be so Sir.   Cuc. 

It shall do so. A man near all importance.  
Dost thou digest this truly?   John. 

I hope I shall Sir.   Cuc. 

Besides, thou art to serve a noble Mistress,  
Of equal place and trust. Serve usefully,  
Serve all with diligence, but her delights,  
There make your stop. She is a woman sirrah;  
And though a culled out virtue, yet a woman  
Thou art not troubled with the strength of blood,  
And stirring faculties, for she will show a fair one?   John. 

As I am a man, I may; but as I am your man,  
Your trusty, useful man, those thoughts shall perish.   Cuc: 

'Tis apt, and well distinguished. The next precept,  
And then observe me, you have all your duty:  
Keep as thou wouldst keep thine eyesight, all Wine from her,  
All talk of Wine.   John. 

Wine is a comfort, Sir.   Cuc. 

A Devil, Sir; let her not dream of Wine,  
Make her believe there neither is, nor was Wine,  
Swear it.   John. 

Will you have me lie?   Cuc. 

To my end, Sir;  
For if one drop of Wine but creep into her,  
She is the wisest woman in the world straight,  
And all the women in the world together  
Are but a whisper to her; a thousand Iron-mills  
Can be heard no further than a pair of Nutcrackers:  
Keep her from Wine, Wine makes her dangerous.  
Fall back; my Lord Don Pedro!   Enter Pedro. Ped. 

Now Mr. Office:  
What is the reason that your vigilant greatness,  
And your wives wonderful wiseness have locked up from me  
The way to see my Mistress? whose Dog's dead now,  
That you observe these Vigils?   Cuc. 

Very well, my Lord;  
Belike we observe no law then, nor no order,  
Nor feel no power, nor will of him that made 'em,  
When State-commands thus slightly are disputed:   Ped. 

What State-command? dost thou think any State  
Would give thee any thing but Eggs to keep,  
Or trust thee with a secret above losing?   Cuc. 

No, no, my Lord I am not passionate,  
You cannot work me that way to betray me.  
A point there is in't, that you must not see sir,  
A secret and a serious point of State too;  
And do not urge it further, do not Lord,  
It will not take; you deal with them that wink not:  
You tried my wife, alas you thought she was foolish,  
Won with an empty word; you have not found it.   Ped. 

I have found a pair of Coxcombs, that I am sure on.   Cuc. 

Your Lordship may say three; I am not passionate.   Ped. 

How's that?   Cuc. 

Your Lordship found a faithful Gentlewoman,  
Strong, and inscrutable as the Viceroy's heart,  
A woman of another making, Lord:  
And lest she might partake with woman's weakness,  
I have purchased her a rib to make her perfect,  
A rib that will not shrink, nor break i'th' bending:  
This trouble we are put to, to prevent things,  
Which your good Lordship holds but necessary.   Ped 

A fellow of a handsome and free promise,  
And much methinks I am taken with his countenance.  
Do you serve this Yeoman, Porter?   Cuc. 

Not a word  
Basta, your Lordship may discourse your freedom;  
He is a slave of State sir, so of silence.   Ped. 

You are very punctual State-cut; fare ye well,  
I shall find time to fit you too, I fear not.   Exit Pedro. Cuc. 

And I shall fit you Lord; you would be billing;  
You are too hot, sweet Lord, too hot: Go you home,  
And there observe these lessons I first taught you,  
Look to your charge abundantly; be wary,  
Trusty and wary: much weight hangs upon me,  
Watchful and wary too! this Lord is dangerous,  
Take courage and resist; for other uses  
Your Mistress will inform ye. Go, be faithful,  
And do ye hear? no wine.   John. 

I shall observe Sir.   Exeunt. Enter Doctor and Surgeons: Doct. 

He must take air.   1 Sur. 

Sir, under your correction,  
The violence of motion may make  
His wounds bleed fresh.   2 Sur. 

And he hath lost already  
Too much blood, in my judgement.   Doct. 

I allow that;  
But to choke up his spirits in a dark room,  
Is far more dangerous. He comes; no questions.   Enter Martino. Mar: 

Certain we have no reason, nor that soul  
Created of that pureness books persuade us:  
We understand not sure; nor feel that sweetness  
That men call Virtues chain to link our actions.  
Our imperfections form, and flatter us;  
A will to rash and rude things; is our reason,  
And that we glory in, that makes us guilty.  
Why did I wrong this man, unmanly wrong him,  
Unmannerly? He gave me no occasion;  
In all my heat how noble was his temper?  
And when I had forgot both man and manhood,  
With what a gentle bravery did he chide me?  
And say he had killed me, whither had I traveled?  
Killed me in all my rage, oh how it shakes me!  
Why didst thou do this, fool? a woman taught me,  
The Devil and his Angel woman bid me.  
I am a beast, the wildest of all beasts,  
And like a beast I make my blood my master:  
Farewell, farewell for ever name of Mistress,  
Out of my heart I cross thee; love and women  
Out of my thoughts.   Doct. 

ay, now you show your manhood.   Mar: 

Doctor believe me, I have bought my knowledge,  
And dearly, Doctor; they are dangerous creatures,  
They sting at both ends, Doctor; worthless creatures,  
And all their loves and favours end in ruins.   Doct. 

To man indeed.   Mar. 

Why now thou tak'st me rightly:  
What can they show, or be? what act deserve us  
While we have virtue, and pursue her beauties?   Doct. 

And yet I have heard  
Of many virtuous women.   Mar. 

Not many, Doctor, there your reading fails you:  
Would there were more, and in their loves less dangers.   Doct. 

Love is a noble thing without all doubt sir.   Mar 

Yes, and an excellent to cure the itch.   Ex. 1 Sur. 

Strange melancholy!   Doct. 

By degrees 'twill lessen,  
Provide your things.   2 Sur. 

Our care shall not be wanting.   Exeunt. Enter Leonora and Almira. Leon. 

Good Madam, for your health's sake clear those clouds up,  
That feed upon your beauties like diseases:  
Times hand will turn again, and what he ruins  
Gently restore, and wipe off all your sorrows  
Believe ye are to blame, much to blame Lady;  
You tempt his loving care whose eye has numbered  
All our afflictions, and the time to cure 'em:  
You rather with this torrent choke his mercies  
Then gently slide in to his providence.  
Sorrows are well allowed, and sweeten Nature,  
Where they express no more than drops on lilies;  
But when they fall in storms, they bruise our hopes,  
Make us unable (though our comforts meet us)  
To hold our heads up: Come, you shall take comfort;  
This is a sullen grief becomes condemned men,  
That feel a weight of sorrow through their souls:  
Do but look up: Why so? is not this better  
Than hanging down your head still like a Violet,  
And dropping out those sweet eyes for a wager?  
Pray ye speak a little.   Al 

Pray ye desire no more,  
And if ye love me, say no more.   Leon. 

How fain  
(If I would be as wilful, and partake in't)  
Would you destroy yourself? how often, Lady,  
e'en of the same disease have you cured me,  
And shook me out on't; chid me, tumbled me,  
And forced my hands thus?   Al. 

By these tears no more.   Leo. 

You are too prodigal of 'em. Well, I will not,  
For though my love bids me transgress your will,  
I have a service to your sorrows still.   Exeunt. Enter Pedro and Don John. John. 

Indeed my Lord, my place is not so near;  
I wait below stairs, and there sit, and wait  
Who comes to seek accesses; nor is it fit Sir  
My rudeness should intrude so near their lodgings.   Ped. 

Thou mayst invent a way, 'tis but a trial;  
But carrying up this Letter, and this token,  
And giving 'em discreetly to my Mistress,  
The Lady Leonora; there's my Purse,  
Or any thing thou wilt ask me: if thou knew'st me,  
And what I may be to thee for this courtesy.   John. 

Your Lordship speaks so honestly, and freely,  
That by my troth I'll venture.   Ped. 

I dearly thank thee.   John. 

And it shall cost me hard; nay, keep your purse Sir:  
For though my bodies bought, my mind was never.  
Though I am bound, my courtesies are no slaves.   Ped. 

Thou shouldst be truly gentle.   John. 

If I were so,  
The state I am in, bids you not believe it.  
But to the purpose Sir, Give me your Letter,  
And next your counsel, for I serve a crafty Mistress.   Ped. 

And she must be removed, thou wilt else ne'er do it.   John. 

ay, there's the plague. Think, and I'll think a while too.   Ped. 

Her husbands suddenly fallen sick.   John. 

She cares not  
If he were dead, indeed it would do better:   Ped. 

Would he were hanged.   John. 

Then she would run for joy, Sir.   Ped. 

Some Lady crying out.   John. 

She has two already.   Ped. 

Her house is afire.   John. 

Let the fool, my husband, quench it.  
This will be her answer: This may take, it will sure!  
Your Lordship must go presently, and send me  
Two or three bottles of your best Greek Wine;  
The strongest, and sweetest.   Ped. 

Instantly;  
But will that do?   Exit Pedro. John. 

Let me alone to work it;  
Wine I was charged to keep by all means from her,  
All secret locks it opens, and all counsels,  
That I am sure, and gives men all accesses.  
Pray Heaven she be not loving, when she's drunk now;  
For drunk she shall be, though my pate pay for it;  
She'll turn my stomach then abominably,  
She has a most wicked face, and that lewd face,  
Being a drunken face, what face will there be?  
She cannot ravish me. Now if my Master  
Should take her so, and know I ministered,  
What will his wisdom do? I hope be drunk too,  
And then all's right. Well Lord, to do the service,  
Above these Puppet-plays, I keep a life yet.  
Here come the executioners: You are welcome,  
Give me your load, and tell my Lord, I am at it:   Enter Servant with Bottles. Serv. 

I will sir, speed you sir.   Exit John. 

Good speed on all sides.  
'Tis mon-strong, strong Wine: O the yawns that she'll make!  
Look to your stern dear Mistress, and steer right,  
Here's that will work, as high as the Bay of Portugal:  
Stay, let me see; I'll try her by the Nose first,  
For if she be a right Sow, sure she'll find it.   Enter Borachia. 

She is yonder by herself, the Lady's from her.  
Now to begin my sacrifice, she stirs, and vents it.  
O how she holds her nose up like a Jennet  
I'th' wind of a Grass-mare! She has it full now,  
And now she comes. I'll stand aside a while.   Bor: 

'Tis wine; I sure 'tis wine! excellent strong wine!  
I'th' must I take it: Very wine: this way too.   John. 

How true she hunts? I'll make the train a little longer.   Bor. 

Stronger, and stronger still! still blessed wine!   John. 

Now she hunts hot.   Bor. 

All that I can make for this wine,  
This way it went sure.   John. 

Now she is at a cold scent.  
Make out your doubles Mistress. O well hunted,  
That's she, that's she.   Bor. 

O, if I could but see it!  
O what a precious scent it has! but handle it!   John. 

Now I'll untapis.   Bor. 

What's that? still 'tis stronger.  
Why how now sirrah? what's that? answer quickly,  
And to the point.   John. 

'Tis wine forsooth, good wine,  
Excellent candy-wine.   Bor. 

'Tis well forsooth:  
Is this a drink for slaves? Why saucy sirrah,  
Excellent candy-wine; draw nearer to me,  
Reach in me bottle, Why thou most debauched slave,   John. 

Pray be not angry Mistress, for with all my service  
And pains, I purchased this for you, I dare not drink it;  
For you a present, only for your pleasure,  
To show in little, what a thanks I owe  
The hourly courtesies, your goodness gives me.   Bor. 

And I will give thee more; there kiss my hand on't.   John. 

I thank you dearly for your dirty favour,  
How rank it smells!   Bor. 

By thy leave sweet Bottle,  
And sugar-candy-wine, I now come to thee;  
Hold your hand under.   John. 

How does your Worship like it?   Bor. 

Under again, again; and now come kiss me,  
I'll be a mother to thee, Come, drink to me.   John. 

I do beseech your pardon.   Bor. 

Here's to thee then,  
I am easily entreated for thy good,  
'Tis nought for thee indeed, 'twill make thee break out;  
Thou hast a pure complexion: now for me  
'Tis excellent, 'tis excellent for me.  
Son slave I have a cold stomach, and the wind.   John. 

Blows out a cry at your both ends.   Bor. 

Kiss again,  
Cherish thy Lips, for thou shalt kiss fair Ladies:  
Son slave I have them for thee; I'll show thee all.   John. 

Heaven bless mine eyes!   Bor. 

e'en all the secrets, Son slave,  
In my dominion.   John. 

Oh here come the Ladies,  
Now to my business.   Enter Almira and Leonora. Leon. 

This air will much refresh you:   Al: 

I must sit down.   Leon. 

Do, and take freer thoughts;  
The place invites you, and I walk by, like your Sentinel.   Bor. 

And thou shalt be my Heir, I'll leave thee all,  
Heaven knows to what 'twill mount to; but abundance:  
I'll leave thee two young Ladies, what think you of that Boy?  
Where is the Bottle? Two delicate young Ladies:  
But first you shall commit with me. Do you mark son,  
And show yourself a Gentleman, that's the truth son:   John. 

Excellent Lady, kissing your fair hand,  
And humbly craving pardon for intruding  
This Letter, and this Ring.   Leon. 

From whom, I pray you sir?   John. 

From the most noble, loving Lord, Don Pedro,  
The servant of your Virtues.   Bor. 

And prithee, good son slave, be wise and circumspect,  
And take heed of being overtaken with too much drink;  
For it is a lamentable sin, and spoils all:  
Why 'tis the damnablest thing to be drunk son,  
Heaven cannot endure it. And hark you, one thing I would have done:  
Knock my husband on the head, as soon as may be,  
For he is an arrant Puppy, and cannot perform—  
Why, where the devil is this foolish Bottle?   Leon. 

I much thank you, and this sir for your pains.   John. 

No, gentle Lady,  
That I can do him service; is my merit,  
My faith, my full reward.   Leon. 

Once more I thank you.  
Since I have met so true a friend to goodness,  
I dare deliver to your charge, my answer:  
Pray you tell him Sir, this night I do invite him  
To meet me in the Garden. Means he may find,  
For love, they say, wants no abilities.   John. 

Nor shall he, Madam, if my help may prosper.  
So everlasting Love, and Sweetness, bless ye.  
She's at it still, I dare not now appear to her.   Al. 

What fellows that?   Leon. 

Indeed I know not, Madam,  
It seems of some strange Country by his habit;  
Nor can I show you by what mystery  
He wrought himself into this place, prohibited.   Al. 

A handsome man.   Leon. 

But of a mind more handsome.   Al. 

Was his business to you?   Leon. 

Yes, from a friend you wot of.   Al. 

A very handsome fellow,  
And well demeaned.   Leon. 

Exceeding well, and speaks well.   Al. 

And speaks well too?   Leon. 

I passing well, and freely,  
And as he promises of a most clear nature,  
Brought up sure far above his show:   Al. 

It seems so:  
I would I had heard him, friend. Comes he again?   Leon. 

Indeed I know not if he do.   Al. 

'Tis no matter.  
Come let's walk in.   Leon. 
I am glad you have found your tongue yet.  Borachia sings. Enter Cuculo. Cuc. 

My wife is very merry; sure 'twas her voice,  
Pray Heaven there be no drink in't, than I allow it.   John. 

'Tis sure my Master, now the game begins;  
Here will be spitting of fire a both sides presently,  
Send me but safe delivered.   Cuc. 

O my heart aches!  
My head aches too: Mercy, O me she's perished!  
She has gotten wine! she is gone for ever.   Bor. 

Come hither Ladies, carry your bodies swimming;  
Do your three duties then, then fall behind me.   Cuc. 

O thou pernicious Raschal! What hast thou done?   John. 

I done alas Sir, I have done nothing.   Cuc. 

Sirrah,  
How came she by this wine?   John. 

Alas, I know not.   Bor. 

Who's that, that talks of wine there?   John. 

Forsooth, my Master?   Bor. 

Bring him before me, son slave.   Cuc. 

I will know it.  
This Bottle? how this Bottle?   Bor. 

Do not stir it;  
For if you do, by this good wine, I'll knock ye,  
I'll beat ye damnable, yea, and nay, I'll beat you;  
And when I have broke it 'bout your head, do you mark me?  
Then will I tie it to your Worship's tail,  
And all the dogs i'th' Town shall follow you.  
No question I would avise you how I came by it.  
I will have none of these points handled now.   Cuc. 

She'll never be well again, while the world stands.   John. 

I hope so.   Cuc. 

How dost thou Lamb?   Bor. 

Well, God-a-mercy Bell-wether, how dost thou?  
Stand out: Son slave, sit you here, and before this Worshipful Audience  
Propound a doubtful question: See who's drunk now:   Cuc. 

Now, now, it works, the devil now dwells in her.   Bor. 

Whether the Heaven, or the Earth, be nearer the Moon?  
Or what's the natural Reason, why a woman longs  
To make her husband Cuckold? Bring me your Cousin  
The Curate now, that great Philosopher;  
He that found out a Pudding had two ends;  
That learned Clerk, that notable Gymnosophist,  
And let him with his Jacobs-Staff discover  
What is the third part of Three farthings, three  
Half pence, being the half, and I am satisfied.   Cuc. 

You see she hath Learning enough, if she could dispose it.   Bor. 

Too much for thee, thou Loggerhead, thou Bullhead.   Cuc. 

Nay good Borachia   Bor. 

Thou a sufficient Statesman?  
A Gentleman of Learning, hang thee Dog-whelp;  
Thou shadow of a man of action;  
Thou scab o'th' Court, go sleep you drunken Rascal;  
Ye debauched Puppy, get you home, and sleep sirrah,  
And so will I son slave, thou shalt sleep with me.   Cuc. 

Prithee look to her tenderly.   Bor 

No words sirrah  
Of any wine, or any thing like wine,  
Or any thing concerning wine, or by wine,  
Or from, or with wine: Come lead me like a Countess.   Cuc. 

Thus must we bear, poor men! There is a trick in't,  
But when she is well again, I'll trick her for it.   Exeunt.  

Act. 4. Scaen. 1.  Enter Pedro: Ped. 

NOw if this honest fellow do but prosper,  
I hope I shall make fair return. I wonder  
I hear not from the Prince of Tarent, yet  
I hope he's landed well, and to his safety,  
The winds have stood most gently to his purpose.  
My honest friend!   Enter Don John. John. 

Your Lordship's poorest servant.   Ped. 

How hast thou sped?   John. 

My Lord, as well as wishes,  
My way hath reached your Mistress, and delivered  
Your Letter-love, and Token, who with all joy,  
And virtuous constancy, desires to see you,  
Commands you this night, by her loving power,  
To meet her in the Garden,   Ped. 

Thou hast made me,  
Redeemed me, man, again from all my sorrows;  
Done above wonder for me. Is it so?   John. 

I should be now too old to learn to lie sir,  
And as I live, I never was good flatterer.   Ped. 

I do see some thing in this fellows face still,  
That ties my heart fast to him: Let me love thee,  
Nay, let me honour thee for this fair service,  
And if I ere forget it.   John. 

Good my Lord,  
The only knowledge of me, is too much bounty.  
My service, and my life sir.   Ped. 

I shall think on't;  
But how for me to get access?   John. 

'Tis easy,  
I'll be your guide sir, all my care shall lead you;  
My credits better than you think.   Ped. 

I thank ye,  
And soon I'll wait your promise.   John. 

With all my duty.   Exeunt. Enter Viceroy, Messina, Doctor, and Cuculo. Doct. 

All's as I tell you Princes, you shall here  
Be witness to his fancies, melancholy,  
And strong imagination of the wrongs.  
His inhumanity to Don Anthonio  
Hath rent his mind into so many pieces  
Of various imaginations, that  
Like the Celestial Bow, this colour now  
The object, then another, till all vanish.  
He says a man might watch to death, or fast,  
Or think his spirit out; to all which humours,  
I do apply myself, checking the bad,  
And cherishing the good. For these, I have  
Prepared my Instruments, fitting his Chamber  
With trapdoors, and descents; sometimes presenting  
Good spirits of the air, bad of the earth,  
To pull down, or advance his fair intentions.  
He's of a noble nature, yet sometimes  
Thinks that which by confederacy I do,  
Is by some skill in Magic. Here he comes.  
A bed drawn forth, Martino upon it, a book in's hand.  
Unsent I do beseech you. What do you read Sir?   Mar. 

A strange position which doth much perplex me:  
That every Soul's alike, a musical Instrument,  
The Faculties in all men equal Strings,  
Well, or ill handled; and those sweet, or harsh.   Exit Doct. 

How like a Fiddler I have played on mine then!  
Declined the high pitch of my birth and breeding,  
Like the most barbarous Peasant; read my pride  
Upon Anthonio's meek humility,  
Wherein he was far valianter than I.  
Meekness, thou waitest upon courageous spirits,  
Enabling sufferance past inflictions:  
In patience Tarent overcame me more  
Than in my wounds. Live then no more to men,  
Shut daylight from thine eyes, here cast thee down,  
And with a sullen sigh breath forth thy soul.  
What art? an Apparition, or a Man?   Enter Doctor like a Friar. Doct. 

A man, and sent to counsel thee.   Mar. 

Despair  
Has stopped mine ears; thou seem'st a holy Friar?   Doct. 

I am, by Doctor Paulo sent to tell thee:  
Thou art too cruel to thyself in seeking  
To lend compassion and aid to others.  
My Order bids me comfort thee: I have heard all  
Thy various, troubled passions. Hear but my story.  
In way of youth I did enjoy one friend,  
As good and perfect as Heaven e'er made man:  
This friend was plighted to a beauteous woman,  
(Nature proud of her workmanship) mutual love  
Possessed 'em both; her heart in his breast lodged,  
And his in hers.   Mar. 

No more of love, good father;  
It was my surfeit, and I loathe it now,  
As men in Fevers meat they fell sick on.   Doct. 

howe'er 'tis worth your hearing. This betrothed Lady  
(The ties and duties of a friend forgotten)  
Spurred on by lust, I treacherously pursued:  
Contemned by her, and by my friend reproved,  
Despised by honest men, my consclence seared up,  
Love I converted into frantic rage;  
And by that false guide led, I summoned him  
In this bad cause, his sword 'gainst mine to prove,  
If he or I might claim most right in love.  
But fortune (that does seld 'or never give  
Success to right and virtue) made him fall  
Under my sword. Blood, blood, a friend's dear blood,  
A virtuous friends shed by a Villain, me,  
In such a monstrous and unequal cause,  
Lies on my conscience.   Mar. 

And durst thou live  
After this to be so old? 'tis an illusion  
Raised up by my charms: A man would not have lived;  
Art quiet in thy bosom?   Doct. 

As the sleep  
Of Infants.   Mar. 

My fault did not equal this;  
Yet I have emptied my heart of joy,  
Only to store sighs up. What were the arts  
That made thee live so long in rest?   Doct. 

Repentance  
Hearty, that cleansed me; Reason then confirmed me  
I was forgiven, and took me to my Beads.   Exit Doctor: Mar. 

I am i'th' wrong path; tender conscience  
Makes me forget mine honour: I have done  
No evil like this, yet I pine, whilst he,  
A few tears of his true contrition tendered,  
Securely sleeps. Ha, where keeps peace of conscience,  
That I may buy her? nowhere, not in life.  
'Tis feigned that Jupiter two Vessels placed,  
The one with honey filled, the other gall,  
At th'entry of Olympus: Destiny  
There brewing these together, suffers not  
One man to pass before he drinks this mixture.  
Hence is it we have not an hour of life  
In which our pleasures relish not some pain,  
Our sours some sweetness. Love doth taste of both.  
Revenge, that thirsty Dropsy of our souls,  
Which makes us covet that which hurts us most,  
Is not alone sweet, but partakes of tartness:   Mess. 

Is't not a strange effect?   Vice. 

Past precedent.   Cuc. 

His Brain-pan's perished with his wounds: Go to,  
I knew 'twould come to this.   Vice. 

Peace, man of wisdom.   Mar. 

Pleasure's the hook of evil, ease of care,  
And so the general object of the Court:  
Yet some delights are lawful. Honour is  
virtue's allowed ascent: Honour that clasps  
All perfect Justice in her arms; that craves  
No more respect than what she gives; that does  
Nothing but what she'll suffer. This distracts me,  
But I have found the right. Had Don Anthonio  
Done that to me, I did to him, I should have killed him;  
The injury so foul, and done in public,  
My Footman would not bear it. Then in honour  
Wronging him so, I'll right him on myself:  
There's honour, justice, and full satisfaction  
Equally tendered; 'tis resolved, I'll do't.   Enter Doctor (like a Soldier) and the English Slave (like a Courtier:) Slave. 

They take all weapons from me   Mess. 

Bless my son.   Vice 

The careful Doctor's come again.   Mess. 

Rare man!  
How shall I pay this debt?   Cuc. 

He that is with him,  
Is one of the slaves he lately bought, he said  
T'accommodate his cure. He's English born,  
But French in his behaviour; a delicate slave.   Vice. 

The slave is very fine.   Cuc. 

Your English slaves  
Are ever so; I have seen an English slave  
Far finer than his master. There's a State-point  
Worthy your observation.   Doct. 

On thy life  
Be perfect in thy lesson. Fewer legs, slave.   Mar. 

My thoughts are searched and answered; for I did  
Desire a Soldier and a Courtier  
To yield me satisfaction in some doubts  
Not yet concluded of.   Doct. 

Your Doctor did  
Admit us Sir.   En. Slave. 

And we are at your service; whatever it be, command it.   Mar. 

You appear  
A Courtier in the race of Love; how far  
In honour are you bound to run?   E. Sl. 

I'll tell you,  
You must not spare expense, but wear gay clothes,  
And you may be too prodigal of oaths  
To win a mistress' favour; not afraid  
To pass unto her through her Chambermaid,  
You may present her gifts, and of all sorts,  
Feast, dance, and revel; they are lawful sports:  
The choice of Suitors you must not deny her,  
Nor quarrel though you find a Rival by her:  
Build on your own deserts, and ever be  
A stranger to love's enemy, Jealousy,  
For that draws on—   Mar. 

No more; this points at me,  
I ne'er observed these rules. Now speak old Soldier,  
The height of honour?   [Ex. Slave] Doct. 

No man to offend,  
ne'er to reveal the secrets of a friend;  
Rather to suffer, than to do a wrong;  
To make the heart no stranger to the tongue;  
Provoked, not to betray an Enemy,  
Nor eat his meat I choke with flattery;  
Blushless to tell wherefore I wear my scars,  
Or for my conscience, or my country's wars;  
To aim at just things; if we have wildly run  
Into offences, wish 'em all undone.  
'Tis poor in grief for a wrong done to die,  
Honour to dare to live, and satisfy.   Vice. 

Mark how he winds him.   Mess. 

Excellent man.   Doct. 

Who fights  
With passions, and o'ercomes 'em, is endued  
With the best virtue, passive fortitude   Ex. Doctor. Mar. 

Thou hast touched me Soldier; oh this Honour bears  
The right stamp; would all Soldiers did profess  
Thy good religion. he discords of my soul  
Are tuned, and make a heavenly harmony: Music  
What sweet peace feel I now? I am ravished with it.   Vice. 

How still he sits!   Cuc. 

Hark, Music.   Mess. 

How divinely  
This Artist gathers scattered sense; with cunning  
Composing the fair Jewel of his mind,  
Broken in pieces, and nigh lost before.   Enter Doctor, like a Philosopher: A good, an ill Genius presented. Their Song. While it's singing, the Doctor goes off, and returns in his own shape. Vice. 

See Protean Paulo in another shape.   Doct. 

Away I'll bring him shortly perfect, doubt not.   Mess. 

Master of thy great Art!   Vice. 

As such we'll hold thee.   Mess. 

And study honours for him.   Cuc. 

I'll be sick  
On purpose to take physic of this Doctor.   Exeunt. Mar. 

Doctor, thou hast perfected a Body's cure  
T'amaze the world; and almost cured a Mind  
Near frenzy. With delight I now perceive  
You for my recreation have invented  
The several Objects, which my Melancholy  
Sometimes did think you conjured, otherwhiles  
Imagined 'em Chimaeras. You have been  
My Friar, Soldier, my Philosopher,  
My Poet, Architect, my Physician;  
Laboured for me more than your slaves for you  
In their assistance: In your moral Song  
Of my good Genius, and my bad, you have won me  
A cheerful heart, and banished discontent;  
There being nothing wanting to my wishes,  
But once more, were it possible, to behold  
Don John Anthonio.   Doct. 

There shall be Letters sent  
Into all parts of Christendom, to inform him  
Of your recovery, which now Sir I doubt not.   Mar. 

What honours, what rewards can I heap on you?   Doct. 

That my endeavours have so well succeeded,  
Is a sufficient recompense. Pray you retire Sir,  
Not too much air so soon.   Mar. 

I am obedient.   Exeunt. Enter Almira and Leonota. Leon. 

How strangely this Fellow runs in her mind!   Al. 

Do you hear Cousin?   Leon. 

Her sadness clean forsaken:   Al. 

A poor slave  
Bought for my Governess, say you?   Leon. 

I fear so.   Al. 

And do you think a Turk?   Leon. 

His habit shows it,  
At least bought for a Turk.   Al. 

ay, that may be so.   Leon. 

What if he were one naturally?   Al. 

Nay 'tis nothing,  
Nothing to the purpose; and yet methinks 'tis strange  
Such handsomeness of mind and civil outside  
Should spring from those rude Countries.   Leon. 

If it be no more,  
I'll call our Governess, and she can show you.   Al. 

Why do you think it is?   Leon. 

I do not think so.   Al. 

Fie! no, no, by no means; and to tell thee truth Wench,  
I am truly glad he is here, be what he will;  
Let him be still the same he makes a show of,  
For now we shall see something to delight us,   Leon. 

And Heaven knows, we have need on't.   Al. 

Heigh ho! my heart aches.  
Prithee call in our Governess. Pox o''is fellow—   Exit Leonora. 

Why do I think so much of him? how the devil  
creeped he in to my head? and yet beshrew me,  
methinks I have not seen, I lie, I have seen  
A thousand handsomer, a thousand sweeter.  
But say this fellow were adorned as they are,  
Set-off to show, and glory. What's that to me?  
Fie, what a fool am I? what idle fancies  
Buz in my brains?   Enter Borachia, and Leonora. Bor. 

And how doth my sweet Lady?   Leon. 

She wants your company to make her merry.   Bor. 

And how does Master Bug, I pray you Madam?   Leon. 

Do you mean her little dog?   Bor. 

I mean his Worship.   Leon. 

Troubled with Fleas a little.   Bor. 

Alas poor Chicken:   Leon. 

She is here, and drunk, very fine drunk, I take it,  
I found her with a Bottle for her Bolster,  
Lying along, and making love.   Al. 

Borachia,  
Why, where hast thou been Wench? she looks not well, friend.  
Art not not with child?   Bor. 

I promise ye, I know not,  
I am sure my Bellies full, and that's a shrewd sign:  
Besides I am shrewdly troubled with a Tiego  
Here in my head, Madam; often with this Tiego,  
It takes me very often   Leon. 

I believe thee.   Al. 

You must drink wine.   Bor. 

A little would do no harm sure.   Al. 

'Tis a raw humour blows into your head;  
Which good, strong wine will temper.   Bor. 

I thank your Highness,  
I will be ruled, though much against my nature:  
For wine, I ever hated from my Cradle,  
Yet for my good.   Leon. 

I for your good, by all means.   Al. 

Borachia, what new fellows that thou hast gotten?  
(Now she will sure be free) that handsome stranger?   Bor. 

How much wine must I drink, an't please your Ladyship?   Al. 

She's finely greased. Why two or three round draughts Wench.   Bor. 

Fasting.   Al. 

At any time.   Bor. 

I shall hardly do it:  
But, yet I'll try good Madam.   Leon. 

Do 'twill work well.   Al. 

But prithee answer me, what is this fellow?   Bor. 

I'll tell you two: But let it go no further.   Leon. 

No, no, by no means.   Bor. 

May I not drink before bed too?   Leon. 

At any hour.   Bor. 

And say i'th' night it take me?   Al. 

Drink then. But what this man?   Bor. 

I'll tell ye Madam,  
But pray ye be secret. He's the great Turk's son, for certain,  
And a fine Christian; my husband bought him for me.  
He's circumsinged,   Leon. 

He's circumcised, thou wouldst say.   Al. 

How dost thou know?   Bor: 

I had an eye upon him;  
But e'en as sweet a Turk, an't like your Ladyship,  
And speaks ye as pure Pagan. I'll assure ye,  
My husband had a notable pennyworth of him.  
And found me but the Turks own son, his own son  
By father and mother, Madam.   Leon. 

She's mad drunk.   Al. 

Prithee Borachia call him, I would see him,  
And tell thee how I like him.   Bor. 

As fine a Turk, Madam,  
For that which appertains to a true Turk:   Al. 

Prithee call him.   Bor. 

He waits here at the stairs; son slave come hither.   Enter Don John. 

Pray ye give me leave a little to instruct him,  
He's raw yet in the way of entertainment,  
Son slave, where's the other bottle?   John. 

In the bedstraw,  
I hid it there.   Bor. 

Go up and make your honours.  
Madam, the Tiego takes me now, now Madam,  
I must needs be unmannerly.   Al. 

Pray ye be so   Leon. 

You know your cure.   Bor. 

I'th' bedstraw?   John. 

There you'll find it.   Exit Borachia. Al. 

Come hither sir: How long have you served here?   John. 

A poor time, Madam, yet, to show my service.   Al. 

I see thou art diligent:   John. 

I would be, Madam,  
'Tis all the portion left me, that and truth.   Al. 

Thou art but young?   John. 

Had Fortune meant me so,  
Excellent Lady, Time had not much wronged me.   Al. 

Wilt thou serve me?   John. 

In all my prayers, Madam,  
Else such a misery as mine but blasts ye.   Al. 

Beshrew my heart he speaks well, wondrous honestly. Aside.   John. 

Madam, your loving Lord stays for ye.   Leon. 

I thank ye.  
Your pardon for an hour dear friend.   Al. 

Your pleasure.   Leon. 

I dearly thank ye sir.   Exit Leonora. John. 

My humblest service.  
She views me narrowly, yet sure she knows me not:  
I dare not trust the time yet, nor I must not.   Al. 

Ye are not as your habit shows?   John. 

No Madam.  
His hand, that for my sins lies heavy on me,  
I hope will keep me from being a slave to the devil.   Al. 

A brave clear mind he has, and nobly seasoned.  
What Country are ye of?   John. 

A Biscan, Lady.   Al. 

No doubt, a Gentleman.   John. 

My father thought so.   Alm. 

ay, and I warrant thee a right fair woman  
Thy mother was; he blushes, that confirms it.  
Upon my soul, I have not seen such sweetness,  
I prithee blush again.   John. 

'Tis a weakness, Madam,  
I am easily this way wooed too.   Al. 

I thank ye;  
Of all that ere I saw, thou art the perfitest. Aside.  
Now you must tell me sir, for now I long for't.   John: 

What would she have?   Al. 

The story of your fortune;  
The hard, and cruel fortune brought you hither.   John. 

That makes me stagger; yet I hope I am hid still, Aside.  
That I came hither, Madam, was the fairest.   Al. 

But how this misery ye bear, fell on ye?   John. 

Infandum regina jubes renovare dolorem.   Al. 

Come, I will have it; I command ye tell it,  
For such a speaker I would hear for ever.   John. 

Sure, Madam, 'twill but make you sad and heavy.  
Because I know your goodness full of pity,  
And 'tis so poor a subject too, and to your ears,  
That are acquainted with things, sweet and easy,  
So harsh a harmony.   Al. 

I prithee speak it.   John. 

I ever knew Obedience the best Sacrifice,  
Honour of Ladies, then first passing over  
Some few years of my youth, that are impertinent;  
Let me begin the sadness of my story,  
Where I began to lose myself, to love first.   Al. 

'Tis well, go forward. Some rare piece I look for.   John. 

Not far from, where my Father lives, a Lady,  
A neighbour by, blessed with as great a beauty,  
As nature durst bestow without undoing;  
Dwelled, and most happily, as I thought then,  
And blessed the house a thousand times she dwelled in.  
This beauty in the blossom of my youth,  
When my first fire knew no adulterate Incense,  
Nor I no way to flatter, but my fondness.  
In all the bravery, my friends could show me,  
In all the faith my innocence could give me,  
In the best language my true Tongue could tell me,  
And all the broken sighs my sick heart lend me,  
I sued, and served. Long did I love this Lady,  
Long was my travel, long my trade to win her,  
With all the duty of my Soul, I served her.   Al. 

How feelingly he speaks! and she loved you too;  
It must be so.   John. 

I would it had dear Lady,  
This story had been needless, and this place  
I think unknown to me,   Al. 

Were your bloods equal?   John 

Yes, and I thought our hearts too.   Al. 

Then she must love.   John. 

She did, but never me, she could not love me,  
She would not love, she hated, more she scorned me,  
And in so poor, and base a way abused me;  
For all my services, for all my bounties,  
So bold neglects flung on me.   Al. 

An ill woman!  
Belike you found some Rival in your love then?   John. Aside. 

How perfectly she points me to my story.  
Madam, I did, and one whose pride, and anger,  
Ill manners, and worse man she doted on;  
Doted to my undoing, and my ruin.  
And but for honour to your sacred beauty,  
And reverence to the noble Sex, though she fall,  
As she must fall, that durst be so unnoble,  
I should say something unbeseeming me.  
What out of love, and worthy love, I gave her  
(Shame to her most unworthy mind) to fools,  
To girls, and fiddlers, to her boys she flung,  
And in disdain of me.   Al. 

Pray ye take me with ye.  
Of what complexion was she?   John. 

But that I dare not  
Commit so great a sacrilege 'gainst virtue,  
She looked not much unlikely though far, far short.  
Some thing I see appears, your pardon, Madam,  
Her eyes would smile so, but her eyes would cozen,  
And so she would look sad, but yours is pity,  
A noble Chorus to my wretched story,  
Hers was disdain and cruelty.   Al. 

Pray Heaven  
Mine be no worse: he has told me, a strange story, Aside.  
And said 'twould make me sad! he is no liar.  
But where begins this poor state? I will have all,  
For it concerns me truly.   John. 

Last to blot me  
From all remembrance, what I have been to her,  
And how, how honestly, how nobly served her,  
'Twas thought she set her gallant to dispatch me.  
'Tis true, he quarrelled, without place, or reason.  
We fought, I killed him, heavens' strong hand was with me;  
For which I lost my Country, Friends, acquaintance,  
And put myself to Sea, where a Pirate took me,  
Forcing this habit of a Turk upon me,  
And sold me here.   Al. 

Stop there a while, but stay still.  
In this man's story, how I look? how monstrous?  
How poor and naked? now I show what Don John  
In all the virtue of his life, but aimed at  
This thing hath conquered with a tale, and carried.  
Forgive me thou that guid'st me! Never Conscience  
Touched me till now, nor true love: Let me keep it.   Leon. 

She is there, speak to her, you will find her altered.   Enter Pedro and Leonora. Ped. 

Sister, I am glad to see you, but far gladder,  
To see you entertain your health so well.   Al. 

I am glad to see you too sir, and shall be gladder  
Shortly to see you all.   Ped. 

Now she speaks heartily,  
What do ye want?   Al. 

Only an hour of privateness,  
I have a few thoughts.   Ped. 

Take your full contentment,  
We'll walk aside again; but first to you friend,  
Or I shall much forget myself. My best friend,  
Command me ever, ever, you have won it;   John. 

Your Lordship overflows me.   Leon. 

'Tis but due sir.   Exeunt. Al. 

He's there still. Come sir, to your last part now,  
Which only is your name, and I dismiss you.  
Why, whether go ye?   John. 

Give me leave, good Madam,  
Or I must be so seeming rude to take it.   Al. 

You shall not go, I swear, you shall not go:  
I ask ye nothing but your name, ye have one,  
And why should that thus fright you?   John. 

Gentle Madam,  
I cannot speak; pray pardon me, a sickness  
That takes me often, ties my tongue: Go from me,  
My fit's infectious, Lady.   Alm. 

Were it death  
In all his horrors, I must ask, and know it.  
Your sickness is unwillingness. Hard heart,  
To let a Lady of my youth and place  
Beg thus long for a trifle.   John. 

Worthiest Lady,  
Be wise and let me go: you'll bless me for't,  
Beg not that poison from me that will kill ye.   Alm. 

I only beg your name sir.   John. 

That will choke you,  
I do beseech you pardon me.   Alm. 

I will not.   John. 

You'll curse me when you hear it.   Alm. 

Rather kiss thee,  
Why shouldst thou think so?   John. 

Why, I bear that name,  
And most unluckily, as now it happens,  
(Though I be innocent of all occasion)  
That since my coming hither people tell me  
You hate beyond forgiveness. Now heaven knows,  
So much respect, (although I am a stranger)  
Duty, and humble zeal I bear your sweetness,  
That for the world I would not grieve your goodness:  
I'll change my name, dear Madam.   Alm. 

People lie, and wrong thy name; thy name may save all others,  
And make that holy to me, that I hated:  
Prithee what is't?   John. 

Don John Anthonio.  
What will this woman do? what thousand changes  
Run through her heart and hands? no fixed thought in her;  
She loves for certain now, but now I dare not,  
Heaven guide me right.   Alm. 

I am not angry, Sir,  
With you, nor with your name; I love it rather,  
And shall respect ye, ye deserve. For this time  
I licence you to go; be not far from me,  
I shall call for you often.   John. 

I shall wait, Madam.   Exit john. Enter Cuculo. Alm. 

Now what's the news with you?   Cuc. 

My Lord your father  
Sent me to tell your Honour, Prince Martino  
Is well recovered, and in strength.   Alm. 

Why let him,  
The stories and the names so well agreeing. Aside:  
And both so noble Gentlemen.   Cuc. 

And more, an't please you.   Alm. 

It doth not please me neither more nor less on't.   Cuc 

They'll come to visit you.   Alm. 

They shall break through the doors then.   Ex. Almira: Cuc. 

Here's a new trick of State; this shows foul weather;  
But let her make it when she please, I'll gain by it.   Exit:  

Act. 5. Scaen. 1.  Enter Sea-Pirate, one Slave, and Sailors. Pirate. 

SOld for a slave, sayst thou?   Slave. 

'twas not so well:  
Though I am bad enough, I personated  
Such base behaviour, barbarism of manners,  
With other pranks, that might deter the buyer;  
That the market yielded not one man that would  
Vouchsafe to own me.   Pir. 

What was thy end in't?   Slav. 

To be given away for nothing, as I was  
To the Viceroys Doctor; with him I have continued  
In such contempt, a slave unto his slaves;  
His horse, and dog of more esteem, and from  
That villainous carriage of myself, as if  
I had been a lump of flesh, without a soul;  
I drew such scorn upon me, that I passed,  
And pride in every place without observance.  
For which, if you desire to be made men,  
And by one undertaking, and that easy,  
Ye are bound to Sacrifice unto my sufferings.  
The seed I sowed, and from which you shall reap  
A plentiful harvest.   Pir. 

To the point, I like not  
These castles built in the air.   Slav. 

I'll make 'em real,  
And you the Neptunes of the Sea, you shall  
No more be Sea-rats.   Pir. 

Art not mad?   Slav. 

Ye have seen  
The star of sicily, the fair Almira,  
The Viceroys daughter, and the beauteous Ward  
Of the Duke of Messina?   Pir. 

Madam Leonora.   Slav. 

What will you say, if both these Princesses  
This very night, for I will not delay you,  
Be put in your possession?   Pir. 

Now I dare swear  
Thou hast Maggots in thy brains, thou wouldst not else  
Talk of impossibilities.   Slav. 

Be still  
Incredulous.   Pir. 

Why canst thou think we are able  
To force the Court?   Slav. 

Are we able to force two women,  
And a poor Turkish slave, where lies your Pinnace?   Pir. 

In a Creek not half a league hence.   Slav. 

Can you fetch Ladders  
To mount a Garden wall?   1. Sail. 

They shall be ready:   Slav. 

No more words then, but follow me, and if  
I do not make this good, let my throat pay for't.   Pir. 

What heaps of Gold, these beauties would bring to us  
From the great Turk. if it were possible  
That this could be effected.   Slav. 

If it be not  
I know the price on't.   Pir. 

And be sure to pay it.   Exeunt. Enter Don John with a Letter in his hand. John. 

Her fair hand threw this from the window to me,  
And as I took it up, she said, Peruse it,  
And entertain a fortune offered to thee.  
What may the inside speak— for satisfaction.  
Breaks it open, and reads .If the contempt I showed Don John Anthonio,  
Whose name thou bear'st, and, in that dearer to me,  
I do profess I love thee. How! 'tis so,  
I love thee, this night wait me i'th' Garden,  
There thou shalt know more, subscribed  
Thy Almira—  
Can it be possible such levity  
Should wait on her perfections? when I was  
myself, set off withal the grace of greatness,  
Pomp, bravery, circumstance, she hated me,  
And did profess it openly; yet now  
Being a slave, a thing she should in reason  
Disdain to look upon. In this base shape,  
And since I wore it, never did her service,  
To dote thus fondly? And yet I should glory:  
In her revolt from constancy, not accuse it,  
Since it makes for me. But ere I go further,  
Or make discovery of myself, I'll put her  
To th'utmost trial, i'th' Garden: Well,  
There I shall learn more. Women! Giddy women,  
In her the blemish of your sex, you prove  
There is no reason for your hate or love.   Exit. Enter Almira, Leonora, and two Women. Leon. 

At this unseasonable time to be thus brave,  
No visitants expected? you amaze me.   Al. 

Are these Jewels set forth to the best advantage  
To take the eye?   1. Wom. 

With our best care.   2. Wom. 

We never  
Better discharge our duties.   Al. 

In my sorrows,  
A Princess name (I could perceive it) struck  
A kind of reverence in him, and my beauty  
As then neglected, forced him to look on me  
With some sparks of affection; but now  
When I would fan them to a glorious flame,  
I cannot be too curious, I wonder  
He stays so long.   Leon. 

These are strange fancies.   Al. 

Go  
Entreat, I do forget myself, command  
My Governess, Gentleman, her Slave, I should say,  
To wait me instantly; and yet already  
He's here. His figure graven on my heart,  
Never to be razed out.   [Ex. Wom. Enter Slave, Pirate, and Sailors. Slav. 

There is the prize,  
Is it so rich, that you dare not seize upon it?  
Here I begin:   Al. 

Help Villain:   Pir. 

You are mine.   Sail. 

Though somewhat course, you'll serve after a storm,  
To bid fair wether welcome.   Leon. 

Ravisher,  
Defend me Heaven.   Al: 

No aid near?   Wom. 

Help.   Slav. 

Dispatch.  
No glory, nor handkercher to stop their mouths?  
Their cries will reach the guard, and then we are lost.   Enter Don John and Woman. John. 

What shrieks are these? from whence? O blessed Saints!  
What sacrilege to beauty? Do I talk,  
When 'tis almost too late to do. Take that. Forces a sword.   Slave. 

All set upon him.   pirate. 

Kill him.   John. 

You shall buy  
My life at a dear rate, you Rogues.   Enter Pedro, Cuculo, Borachia, and Guard. Cuc. 

Down with 'em.   Ped. 

Unheard of treason.   Bor. 

Make in Loggerhead;  
My son Slave fights like a dragon: Take my bottle,  
Drink courage out on't.   John. 

Madam, you are free.   Ped. 

Take comfort, dearest Mistress.   Cuc. 

O you mitcher,  
Have you a hand in this?   Slave. 

My aims were high,  
Fortune's my enemy: To die's's the worst,  
And that I look for.   Pyr. 

Vengeance on your plots.   Ped. 

The rack at better leisure shall force from 'em  
A full discovery: Away with 'em.   Cuc. 

Load 'em with irons.   Bor. 
Let 'em have no wine  
To comfort their cold heart.  The Guard take the pirate and the rest. Ped. 

Thou man of men.   Leon. 

A second Hercules.   Al. 

An Angel thus disguised.   Ped. 

What thanks?   Leon. 

What service?   Bor. 

He shall serve me by your leave, no service else.   John. 

I have done nothing but my duty, Madam;  
And if the little you have seen exceed it,  
The thank due for it pay my watchful Master,  
And this my sober Mistress.   Bor. 

He speaks truth, Madam,  
I am very sober.   Ped. 

Far beyond thy hopes  
Expect reward.   Al. 

We'll straight to Court, and there  
It is resolved what I will say and do.  
I am faint, support me.   Ped. 

This strange accident  
Will be heard with astonishment. Come friend,  
You have made yourself a fortune, and deserve it.   Exeunt. Enter Viceroy, Messina, Doctor. Mess. 

Perfectly cured?   Doct. 

As such I will present him,  
The thanks be given to Heaven.   Mess. 

Thrice reverend man,  
What thanks but will come short of thy desert?  
Or bounty, though all we possess were given thee,  
Can pay thy merit? I will have thy Statue  
Set up in Brass.   Vice. 

Thy name made the sweet subject  
Of our best Poems; thy unequalled Cures  
Recorded to posterity.   Doct. 

Such false glories  
(Though the desire of fame be the last weakness  
Wise men put off) are not the marks I shoot at:  
But if I have done any thing that may challenge  
Your favours (mighty Princes) my request is,  
That for the good of such as shall succeed me,  
A College for Physicians may be  
With care and cost erected, in which no man  
May be admitted to a Fellowship,  
But such as by their vigilant studies shall  
Deserve a place there; this magnificence,  
Posterity shall thank you for.   Vice. 

Rest assured  
In this, or any boon you please to ask,  
You shall have no repulse:   Doct. 

My humblest service  
Shall ne'er be wanting. Now if you so please,  
I'll fetch my Princely Patient, and present him.   Exit Doctor. Mess. 

Do, and imagine in what I may serve you,  
And by my honour with a willing hand  
I will subscribe to't.   Enter Pedro, Almira, Leonora, Don John, Cuculo, Borachia. Cuc. 

Make way there:   Vice. 

My daughter!  
How's this? a Slave crowned with a Civic garland!  
The mystery of this?   Ped. 

It will deserve  
Your hearing and attention. Such a truth  
Needs not rhetorical flourishes, and therefore  
With all the brevity and plainness that  
I can, I will deliver it. If the old Romans,  
When of most power and wisdom, did decree  
A Wreath like this to any common Soldier  
That saved a citizen's life, the bravery  
And valour of this man may justly challenge  
Triumphant Laurel. This last night a crew  
Of Pirates broke in Signior Cuculo's house,  
With violent rudeness, ceasing on my sister,  
And my fair Mistress, both were in their power,  
And ready to be forced hence; when this man  
Unarmed, came to their rescue, but his courage  
Soon furnished him with weapons: In a word,  
The lives and liberties of these sweet Ladies,  
You owe him, for the Rovers are in hold,  
And ready when you please, for punishment.   Vice. 

As an induction of more to come,  
Receive this favour.   Mes 

With myself, my son  
Shall pay his real thanks. He comes, observe now  
Their amorous meeting.   Enter Doctor, and Martina. Mart. 

I am glad you are well Lady:   Al. 

I grieve not your recovery.   Vice. 

So coldly.   Mes. 

Why fall you off?   Mart. 

To shun captivity sir  
I was too long a slave, I'll now be free.   Al. 

'Tis my desire you should. Sir my affection  
To him was but a trifle, which I played with  
I'th' childhood of my love; which now grown elder,  
I cannot like of.   Vice. 

Strange inconstancy!   Mart. 

'Tis judgement sir in me, or a true debt  
Tendered to Justice rather. My first life  
Loaden with all the follies of a man,  
Or what could take addition from a woman,  
Was by my head strong passions (which o'erruled  
My understanding (forfeited to death:  
But this new being, this my second life,  
Begun in serious contemplation of  
What best becomes a perfect man, shall never  
Sink under such weak frailties.   Mess. 

Most unlooked for.   Doct. 

It does transcend all wonders.   Mar. 

'Tis a blessing  
I owe your wisdom, which I'll not abuse:  
But if you envy your own gift, and will  
Make me that wretched creature which I was,  
You then again shall see me passionate,  
A lover of poor trifles, confident  
In man's deceiving strength, or falser fortune;  
Jealous, revengeful, in unjust things daring,  
Injurious, quarrelsome, stored with all diseases  
The beastly part of man infects his soul with;  
And to remember what's the worst, once more,  
To love a woman, but till that time never.   Exit. Vice. 

Stand you affected so to men, Almira?   Al. 

No Sir; if so, I could not well discharge  
What I stand bound to pay you, and to nature.  
Though Prince Martino does profess a hate  
To womankind, 'twere a poor world for women  
Were there no other choice, or all should follow  
The example of this new Hippolytus:  
There are men, Sir, that can love, and have loved truly;  
Nor am I desperate but I may deserve  
One that both can and will so.   Vice. 

My allowance  
Shall rank with your good liking, still provided  
Your choice be worthy.   Alm. 

In it I have used  
The judgement of my mind, and that made clearer  
With calling oft to heaven it might be so.  
I have not sought a living comfort from  
The reverend ashes of old Ancestors;  
Nor given myself to the mere name and titles  
Of such a man, that being himself nothing,  
Derives his substance from his grandsire's tomb:  
For wealth, it is beneath my birth to think on't,  
Since that must wait upon me, being your daughter,  
No Sir, the man I love, though he wants all  
The setting forth of fortune, gloss, and greatness,  
Has in himself such true and real goodness,  
His parts so far above his low condition,  
That he will prove an ornament, not a blemish,  
Both to your name and family.   Ped. 

What strange creature  
Hath she found out?   Leon. 

I dare not guess.   Alm. 

To hold you  
No longer in suspense, this matchless man  
That saved my life and honour, is my husband,  
Whom I will serve with duty.   Bor: 

My son Slave!   Vice. 

Have you your wits?   Bor. 

I'll not part with him so.   Cuc. 

This I foresaw too.   Vice. 

Do not jest thyself  
Into the danger of a Father's anger.   Alm. 

Jest, Sir? by all my hope of comfort in him  
I am most serious. Good Sir look upon him,  
But let it be with my eyes, and the care  
You should owe to your daughter's life and safety,  
Of which without him she's uncapable,  
And you'll approve him worthy.   Vice. 

O thou shame  
Of women! thy sad Father's curse, and scandal:  
With what an impious violence thou tak'st from him  
His few short hours of breathing!   Doct. 

Do not add, Sir,  
Weight to your sorrow in th'ill bearing of it.   Vice. 

From whom, degenerate Monster, flow these low  
And base affections in thee? what strange philters  
Hast thou received? what Witch with damned spells  
Deprived thee of thy reason? Look on me,  
(Since thou art lost unto thyself) and learn  
From what I suffer for thee, what strange tortures  
Thou dost prepare thyself.   Mess. 

Good Sir, take comfort;  
The council you bestowed on me, make use of.   Doct. 

This Villain, (for such practises in that Nation  
Are very frequent) it may be hath forced  
By cunning potions and by sorcerous charms  
This frenzy in her.   Vice. 

Sever 'em.   Alm. 

I grow to him.   Vice. 

Carry the Slave to torture, and wrest from him  
By the most cruel means, a free confession  
Of his impostures.   Alm. 

I will follow him,  
And with him take the Rack.   Bor. 

No, hear me speak,  
I can speak wisely: Hurt not my son slave,  
But rack or hang my husband, and I care not;  
For I'll be bound body to body with him:  
He's very honest, that's his fault.   Vice. 

Take hence  
This drunken beast.   Bor. 

Drunk! am I drunk? Bear witness.   Cuc. 

She is indeed distempered.   Vice. 

Hang 'em both,  
If ere more they come near the Court.   Cuc. 

Good sir,  
You can recover dead men; can you cure  
A living drunkenness?   Doct. 

'Tis the harder task;  
Go home with her, I'll send you something that  
Shall once again bring her to better temper,  
Or make her sleep for ever.   Cuc. 

Which you please, sir.   Exeunt Cuc. Bor. Vice. 

Why linger you? rack him first, and after break him  
Upon the wheel.   Ped. 

Sir, this is more than justice.   John. 

Is't death in Sicily, to be loved  
Of a fair Lady?   Leon. 

Though he be a slave,  
Remember yet he is a man.   Vice. 

I am deaf  
To all persuasions: Drag him hence. The Guard take Don John off.   Alm. 

Do Tyrant,  
No more a Father; feast thy cruelty  
Upon thy Daughter: but Hell's plagues fall on me,  
If I inflict not on myself whatever  
He can endure for me.   Vice 

Will none restrain her.   Alm. 

Death hath a thousand doors to let out life,  
I shall find one. If Portia's burning coals,  
The Knife of Lucrece, Cleopatra's Aspics,  
Famine, deep waters have the power to free me  
From a loathed life, I'll not an hour outlive him.   Ped. 

Sister.   Leon. 

Dear Cousin.   Ex. Alm. Ped. Leon. Vice. 

Let her perish.   Doct. 

Hear me;  
Th' effects of violent love are desperate:  
And therefore in the execution of  
The Slave be not too sudden. I was present  
When he was bought, and at that time myself  
Made purchase of another. He that sell  
Said that they were companions of one Country.  
Something may rise from this to ease your sorrows:  
By circumstance I'll learn what's his condition,  
I'th' mean time use all fair and gentle means  
To pacify the Lady.   Vice. 

I'll endeavour  
As far as grief and anger will give leave,  
To do as you direct me.   Mess. 

I'll assist you.   Exeunt. Enter Pedro and Keeper. Ped. 

Hath he been visited already?   Keeper. 

Yes sir,  
Like one of better fortune; and t'increase  
My wonder of it, such as repair to him,  
In their behaviour rather appear  
Servants, than friends to comfort him.   Ped. 

Go fetch him.   Exit Keeper. 

I am bound in gratitude to do more than wish  
The life and safety of a man that hath  
So well deserved me.   Enter Keeper, Don John, Servant. Keeper. 

Here he is, my Lord.   Ped. 

Who's here? thou art no Conjurer to raise  
A spirit in the best shape man ere appeared in.  
My friend, the Prince of Tarent! doubts forsake me,  
I must and will embrace him.   John: 

Pedro holds  
One that loves life for nothing, but to live  
To do him service.   Ped. 

You are he most certain,  
Heaven ever make me thankful for this bounty:  
Run to the Viceroy, let him know this rarity. Ex K.  
But how you came here thus? yet since I have you,  
Is't not enough I bless the prosperous means  
That brought you hither?   John. 

Dear friend, you shall know all;  
And though in thankfulness I should begin  
Where you delivered me—   Ped. 

Pray you pass that over,  
That's not worth the relation.   John. 

You confirm  
True friends love, to do courtesies, not to hear'em.  
But I'll obey you. In our tedious passage  
Towards Malta, I may call it so, for hardly  
We had lost the ken of Sicily, but we were  
Becalmed, and hulled so up and down twelve hours,  
When to our more misfortune we descried  
Eight well manned Galleys making amain for us,  
Of which th'Arch Turkish pirate cruel Dragnt  
Was Admiral. I'll not speak what I did  
In our defence; but never man did more  
Than the brave Captain that you sent forth with me,  
All would not do; Courage oppressed with number,  
We were boarded, pillaged to the skin, and after  
Twice sold for slaves; by the pirate first, and after  
By a Maltese to Signior Cuculo:  
Which I repent not, since there 'twas my fortune  
To be to you my best friend some ways useful.  
I thought to cheer you up with this short story,  
But you grow sad on't.   Ped. 

Have I not just cause,  
When I consider I could be so stupid  
As not to see a friend through all disguises;  
Or he so far to question my true love,  
To keep himself concealed?   John. 

'Twas fit to do so,  
And not to grieve you with the knowledge of  
What then I was; where now I appear to you,  
Your sister loving me, and Martino safe,  
Like to myself and birth.   Ped. 

May you live long so.  
How dost thou honest friend? your trustiest servant.  
Give me thy hand. I now can guess by whom  
You are thus furnished.   John. 

Troth he met with me  
As I was sent to prison, and there brought me  
Such things as I had use of.   Ped. 

Let's to Court,  
My father never saw a man so welcome,  
As you'll be to him.   John. 

May it prove so friend.   Exeunt: Enter Viceroy, Messtna, Martino, Doctor, Captain, Almira, Leonora, Waiting Women, Attendants. Vice. 

The slave changed to the Prince of Tarent, says he?   Capt. 

Yes sir, and I the Captain of the Fort,  
Worthy of your displeasure, and th'effect of t,  
For my deceiving of that trust your Excellency  
Reposed in me.   Doct. 

Yet since all hath fallen out  
Beyond your hopes, let me become a suitor,  
And a prevailing one to get his pardon.   Al. 

O dearest Leonora, with what forehead  
Dare I look on him now? Too powerful love,  
The best strength of thy unconfined Empire  
Lies in weak women's hearts Thou art feigned blind,  
And yet we borrow our best sight from thee.  
Could it be else, the person still the same  
Affection over me, such power should have  
To make me scorn a Prince, and love a slave.   Mart. 

But art thou sure 'tis he?   Capt. 

Most certain sir.   Mart. 

Is he in health, strong, vigorous, and as able  
As when he left me dead?   Capt. 

Your own eyes sir  
Shall make good my report.   Mart. 

I am glad of it,  
And take you comfort in it sir, there's hope,  
Fair hope left for me, to repair mine honour.   Mes. 

What's that?   Mart. 

I will do something that shall speak me  
Messina's son.   Mes. 

I like not this one word sir.   Vice. 

We'll prevent it.  
Nay, look up my Almira, now I approve  
Thy happy choice. I have forgot my anger,  
I freely do forgive thee.   Al. 

May I find  
Such easiness in the wronged Prince of Tarent,  
I then were happy.   Leon. 

Rest assured you shall.   Enter Don John, Pedro, Servant. Vice. 

We all with open arms haste to embrace you.   Mes. 

Welcome, most welcome.   Mart. 

Stay.   Mes. 

'T was this I feared.   Mart. 

Sir, 'tis best known to you, on what strict terms  
The reputation of men's fame, and honours  
Depend in this so punctual age, in which,  
A word that may receive a harsh construction,  
Is answered, and defended by the sword.  
And you that know so much, will I presume,  
Be sensibly tender of another's credit,  
As you would guard your own.   John. 

I were unjust else.   Mart. 

I have received from your hands, wounds; and deep ones,  
My honour in the general report  
Tainted and soiled, for which I will demand  
This satisfaction, That you would forgive  
My contumelious words, and blow, my rash  
And unadvised wildness first threw on you.  
Thus I would teach the world a better way,  
For the recovery of a wounded honour,  
Then with a savage fury, not true courage,  
Still to run headlong on.   John. 

Can this be serious?   Mart. 

I'll add this, He that does wrong, not alone,  
Draws, but makes sharp his enemy's sword against  
His own life, and his honour. I have paid for't,  
And wish that they, who dare most, would learn from me,  
Not to maintain a wrong, but to repent it.   Doct. 

Why this is like yourself.   Mart. 

For farther proof,  
Here sir, with all my interest, I give up  
This Lady to you.   Vice. 

Which I make more strong;  
With my free grant.   Al. 

I bring mine own consent,  
Which will not weaken it.   All. 

All joy confirm it.   John. 

Your unexpected courtesies amaze me,  
Which I will study with all love and service  
To appear worthy of.   Doct. 

Pray you understand Sir,  
There are a pair of Suitors more, that gladly  
Would hear from you as much, as the pleased Viceroy  
Hath said unto the Prince of Tarent.   Mes. 

Take her,  
Her dowry shall be answerable to  
Her birth, and your desert.   Ped. 

You make both happy.   John. 

One only suit remains, That you would please  
To take again into your highness' favour  
This honest Captain: Let him have your grace.  
What's due to his much merit, shall from me  
Meet liberal rewards.   Vice. 

Have your desire.   John. 

Now may all here that love, as they are friends  
To our good fortunes, find like prosperous ends.   Exeunt.   

EPILOGUE.  

CUstom, and that a Law we must obey  
I'th' way of Epilogue, bids me something say.  
howe'er to little purpose, since we know,  
If you are pleased, unbegged, you will bestow  
A gentle censure: On the other side,  
If that this Play deserve to be decried  
In your opinions, all that I can say,  
Will never turn the stream the other way.  
Your gracious smiles, will render us secure.  
Your frowns without despair, we must endure.   
FINIS