THE BASTARD: A TRAGEDY.  
DUM PREMOR ATTOLLO●  
LONDON, Printed for M. M. T. Collins, and Gabriel Bedell, and are to be sold at their shop at the Middle-Temple-gate in Fleetstreet, 1652.   

Prologue.  
NO Comic Scene shall here salute your eye,  
Whose scoffing Vein may tickle, till you lie  
Half breathless in your mirth, and so at best  
Bribe your applause with some new minted jest.  
The Tragic Buskin traverses our stage  
In bloody Fillets, fit for this Age,  
Where Treason, Murder, Lust, and every Vice  
Grows impudent, and rifles for the Dice.  
Translation is no crime; We here impress  
A Spanish BASTARD in an English dress;  
And lay him at your Doors, that some of You  
Moved with a milder Genius might bestow  
Some favour on our Outcast; by your hand  
Our Brat must die or live, must fall or stand.  
We crave your Charitable smile, the rather  
Because he's not so Wise to knows own Father.  
And Pallas-like (if w' are not too profane!)  
He had no Mother but his Father's brain.  
Thus Fatherless and Motherless! We sue  
For him in humble flexures unto you:  
My Faith assures me, many of you have known  
To make some Bastards which you durst not own  
For shame or fear; and some of you may be  
Mistaken in your Father's Pedigree;  
Your favour cannot shame you; may he invite  
Your bounty, though but in a smile or mite.  
Some Childless Signior, take him to his feet;  
'Twere Cruelty to let him lie i'th' street:  
A sin! alas! a shame! a sin! that He  
Should beg upon the Parish-Charity.  
He's born, and must be kept! faith! think upon't,  
And stand his Godfathers' once at the Font:  
His boon is not ambitious; since 'tis such,  
Deign him your Patronage, h'wo'nt cost you much.  
True Charity should feel no stomach qualms;  
Know, Sirs, a BASTARD may deserve your Alms:  
We crave your serious Thoughts, if any Crime  
Render him odious, blame his Fate, not him;  
He scorns Censorious Critics; and don't fear  
To stand the Bar to a judicious Ear;  
For though to be a BASTARD be his Fate;  
His Wit is sterling, and legitimate.  Exit. Enter GASPAR. 
The world so swarms with Bastards now, that I  
Need not despair for want of Company;  
I'm in among the Throng, although you say,  
I came through the backdoor, or by th' wrong-way,  
I care not; if I may some Portion merit,  
I am content, I beg not to inherit;  
Though Bastardisme can make no Title good,  
Yet know a BASTARD may have Noble blood;  
And challenge Kindred with the best: my Name  
Would not be made the White for squint-eyed Fame  
To dart her Arrows at, had every Front  
Its Lineage and Descent well drawn upon't;  
Nor would the world need Spectacles: 'tis known  
Though IceIce a BASTARD, not a common one;  
Yet, that my Name is in my forehead placed,  
Blame th' Printer, 'twas he made me brazenfaced:  
Perhaps he feared, lest I should stray, so some  
(Reading my Name) might easily bring me home.  
Well! this poor favour sue I from your breath,  
That, since I must be pressed, 'tmay ned be to Death,  
And that the Ballads may not rack my Fame,  
A BASTARD craves this Portion, a good Name.   

dramatis Personae.  

ALONZO, A Merchant, Father to Mariana.  
ALVAREZ, An indebted Merchant, Father to Picarro.  
FREDERICK, A rich old Humorist, Father to Balthasar.  
ALVARADO, Uncle to Don Praepontio.  
PRaePONTIO, A foolish Gallant, contracted to Varina.  
CHAVES, A Florentine, Mariana's Paramour, formerly Contracted to Eugenia.  
RODERIGVEZ Brother to Eugenia.  
BALTHAZAR, Contracted to Mariana.  
PICARRO, Husband to Mariana.  
GASPAR, A Bastard, Servant to Alonzo.  
THOMASO, Servant to Chaves.  


RUBIO,  
HEBE'S,   Servants to Praepontio.   

MARIANA, Daughter to Alonzo.  
VARINA, An Orphan in the Guardianship of Alonzo.  
EUGENIA, Sister to Roderiguez, and deserted by Chaves.  
CATALINA, Mariana's Maid.  
CORINNA, Variana's Maid.   

PRIEST.  
TAYLOR,  
FIDDLERS,  
MASQUERS,  
2. VARLETS,  
3. BOYS,  
GUARDS.   
The Scene SEVILLE.   

THE BASTARD.  

ACT. 1.  

SCENE 1.  Enter Alonso and Gaspar. Alonso. 
ARt sure he'll come?  Gasp. 
I'm sure he promised me.  
But Debtors words are like to whirlwinds, here  
And every where when they should pay. This money  
Is worse than birdlime, or a Tertian Fever,  
And will stick close to their possession  
That have it; specially to pay.  Alon. 
Then thou  
Believest he will not come?  Gasp. 
'Ts no point of Faith, Sir,  
But I do think so: send for him to Trucks,  
To Passage, or Primero, and he'll find  
Rials of eight, and Pistolets to play,  
Or pawn his plate for't; but to pay your debt,  
Tush! 'tis a trifle.  Alo. 
What? six thousand Ducats?  Gas. 
Faith! were it seven, the Hollanders (he'll tell you)  
This year surprised the Flota; and the ships  
From th' Indies by the inauspitious blasts  
Of the illboding North, are still kept off;  
And then he'll kiss away his hand in kindness,  
With Beso las manos, criado de vuestra merced,  
And for these terms expect forbearance.  Alo. 
What  
Shall I do then? I need my money, and  
Must have it immediately.  Gas. 
Faith get it then  
Which way you can; For on my conscience▪  
He will not pay you, less you fairly set  
An Angervill on's shoulders; clap him up,  
And then ne'er fear your money.  Alo. 
That were base;  
Unworthy in me, who have still professed  
Myself his friend, to be the first that should  
Shipwreck his Credit, which i'th' City's eye  
Shines bright; the chiefest glory of us Merchants  
Is Alvarez: no! I do know him honest,  
And sure he'll pay; if not, the sums not great,  
I can forbeared.  Gas. 
Six thousand Ducats is  
A sum of money, many an honest man  
Would wish his patrimony.  Alo. 
Say it be,  
It is too little to o'repoize the worth  
Of Alvarez: For should I once begin,  
His other Creditors by my example  
Would lay their Actions on him, keep him fast  
For ever coming forth.  Gas. 
Faith! not much matter,  
There let him lie, and keep the pavement warm,  
Tell to the silent Walls how he hath wasted  
His wealth in riot, and by Drabs contracted  
A foul consumption both to corpse and purse;  
Make the dumb stones his Confessors, they'll melt  
Perchance into contrition, and weep  
To see him made their Captive.  Alo. 
Thou'rt too cruel;  
I must not be so, lest that Widow's prayers  
Whom he hath cherished, should draw vengeance on me,  
And Orphans tears shed for his loss, rise up  
In swelling Cataracts to overwhelm me.  Gas. 
Consult with reason, Sir: this childish pity  
Is an effeminate passion, shake it off:  
Say he hath spent his own rich patrimony,  
And others wealth in purchasing a Name  
To his posterity; pray tell me Signior,  
Will that Name pay his debts? Or will those men  
That have been better for his wealth, afford  
Him so much kindness; 'twere but gratitude  
As to content you and an hundred more  
He stands engaged to: Let me rule you, give me  
Leave, I'll arrest him in my own Name, so  
You may pass blameless: pray you do, when others  
Have seized on all, you'll wish perchance you'd ta'en  
My foolish counsel.  Alo. 
Hold your tongue, I will not  
Injure my friend so, I'll first lose it; tell me  
What Cash affords your Desk?  Gas. 
Ten thousand Duccas.  Alo. 
See it told out with expedition;  
My daughter's to be married, and must have  
That as a part of portion.  Gas. 
Married, Cousin?  
You'll not be so ignoble to infringe  
Your promise to me?  Alo. 
'Twas an ill one, better  
Broken then kept.  Gas. 
Did I for this, when you  
Deplumed of your Estate, to shun the frown  
Of envious Fortune, was constrained to cross  
The surly Ocean, and so steer your slight  
Into the Indies, with a little remnant  
Of your left wealth, content your Creditors,  
Bring up your daughter only upon hopes  
To have her for my pains, as than you know  
You did oblige yourself, that now another  
Must reap my harvest: Let me tell you, Sir,  
It is not honest in you:  Alo. 
How now Bastard?  
Dare you be muttering? Is't not more than I  
Am any way obliged to, to maintain  
Thee in the fashion of a Gentleman,  
Make thee my fellow, but thy tainted blood  
Thinks to pollute mine? Urge me with a promise  
Unjust as that was? You may pass, the door  
Stands open for you, and your Pasport's writ,  
Take your course, Bastard.  Gas. 
You're my Fate, your tongue  
Hath power to transform my thoughts, create  
Anew my resolutions; I confess  
From you I have my meat; my life depends  
On your beneficent Genius: I offend  
Even to damnation, should I be ingrate  
In my respect to you: I've left my hopes,  
Your promise Let he now hath quite washed out,  
No print of it remains within my breast:  
Join her in Hymeneal rites with whom,  
And when you please; my worst desires shall be,  
heavens give her joy.  Alo. 
Now thou art honest, Gaspar.  
I see thou dost affect me, I'll provide  
To solemnize thy nuptials with some One  
To thy advancement.  Gas. 
Sir, Your bounteous hand  
(I knows) too liberal: may I have his name  
That must enjoy my Mistress?  Alo. 
Balthasar!  
Don Frederiques' heir! But stay it's Varina's portion  
Already told and ticketed?  Gas. 
Yes, Sir, and set apart.  Enter Praepontio and Rubio. Prae. 
Save you Sir; or rather as we say in French, Bon jour:  
Is my illustrious Mistress stirring yet?  Alo. 
She's none of the earliest risers: please you walk in and eat an  
Olive, taste a cup of Alicant, and by that time she'll come.  Prae. 
I thank you, Sir; but my stomach hath not yet digested the crudities of last night's Symbolum  Rub. 
It might have done, I'm sure you fasted.  Gas. 
And has not left picking his teeth yet.  Prae. 
Yet if you please, my renowned Uncle, that must be, we will vouchsafe to warm our palates with a jar of your Monturkie.  Rub. 
He means to Fox himself, that he may have Rhetoric to Court his Mistress: For, Facundi calices quem non fecere disertum, Dull Cups make men eloquent.  Prae. 
My diminutive and defective knave, seal your lips.  Rub. 
He's afeard I should cousin him of some of the Monturkie he hopes for.  Alo. 
How fares your Uncle?  Prae. 
Well, very well; he hath sent my Mistress a copy of his countenance, and here she come.  Enter Varina. 
Strike me not dead with those bright eyes, retort  
Those splendent Sunbeams on yourself, who only  
Can bear such piercing clearness.  Gas. 
Mark his postures, he'll kiss her shoestrings.  Rub. 
Nay, eat the Rushes she treads on: look how Pythagorically he gapes? he's turned Astronomer!  Gas. 
Have you measured the length of hen physiognomy, or taken the height of her forehead yet?  Rub. 
But Master, you must salute her.  Prae. 
Divine, ambiguous, and transparent creature, I salute you with this b— b— bus: my compliments were not cut out according to the garb of the time; but my words are sufficient interpreters of my internal affections, and so sweetheart I love you by this b— b— bus.  Var. 
A little of this, Sir, is sufficient.  Prae. 
Nay! thou shalt have thy belly full of it, my little Duck.  Gas. 
I never heard of a belly full of kisses before.  Prae. 
Lend me your hand to feed on!  Rub. 
Beware, Mistress, he eat it not, he is sharp set I assure you, he had nothing but an Eringo root and a clove of Garlic for his collation.  Alo. 
Sir, Praepontio, My Niece deserves none of these compliment.  Prae: 
How, Sir? you are her Uncle, and so your tongue is privileged; but if another had presumed to speak so profane a syllable upon her merit, mark me, if thunder-thumping Jove had said it, mark me, I would have pulled him by the foretop, or lugged him by the ears.  Alo. 
I doubt not of your valour; but my business Urges my haste.  Prae. 
And so doth mine.  (He untrusses himself.) Rub. 
He's ready to bewray himself.  Alo. 
Say, will your Uncle make her a Jointure?  Prae. 
Will he? A man of your reverend complexion to demand that question? Will he? He shall, in spite of his nose, old dotard! or else I would, as we say in Italian, prove him, All stulti loco, that is to say, wholly a fool: But he has done it already, Sir, Look here, Sir.  (Pulls out a sealed parchment.) Alo. 
Why then we will contract you.  
You are content, Varina, to have this Gentleman.  Var. 
Since you command it.  Alo. 
You'll use her kindly, Sir.  Prae. 
Curse upon this magnificent corpse else; she shall have her Molettoes in green Jackets to stoop to her, when she pleases to perfume the air with her odoriferous countenance; and her Negroes to lay their heads for her to tread on.  Rub. 
And if you, Master, be not able for night work, and so forth, send for me, I can do that.  Alo. 
Well, I'll trust you with her: Gaspar, let's go.  Prae. 
Farewell.  Exeunt Alo. and Gasp. 
Come Gentlewoman, me thinks I am as lusty as Nestor in his second Age.  Rub. 
You may believe him, Mistress.  Prae. 
It seems to me that your beauty operates with my body, as the Sun with the year; which makes the year throw off its russet mantle, and becoming young, to take on its green coat: Now methinks my bones, frozen with Age, are dissolved, and distil into my Codpiece.  Rub. 
These words are in you, as the Primrose in the midst of Winter, but the Primrose stinketh not so bad as your breath.  Prae. 
Now my former vigours return to my vitals; Atlas was but a weak Boy, which could not scarce bear up that with his Shoulders, which with my little finger I am able to sustain: Now could I with a kick of my heel, strike a Lane through the Alps, and so make an inroad for dusky Neptune, I tell thee my sweeting, Adonis, when he was beloved of Venus, was not so beautiful as I am. Troth thou art supereminently beautiful too: Jove would think it no disparagement to be a Cuckoo, a Swan, a Bull, on any thing, to enjoy the beatitude of thy sweet society; Great Hercules would to school, and learn to spin again for thy enjoyment, In brief, Lady, I love you.  Var. 
In brief Sir, though my Uncle pleas to think me worthy of no better a spouse than your ridiculous self, in serious terms I cannot affect you it is not the quaintness of your language that can charm me. If Cupid have no more powerful darts than what drops from your tongue, he can wound but little. Sir, it will argue your prudence to desist from this your enterprise, for my part I had rather be of the society of Danaus' daughters, and torment me in the abissive Hogsheads, then be your bedfellow. But we poor Orphans being shuffled out of our own estates, must be disposed of at the pleasure of our Guardians, even to any one. But, Sir, in short, I shall esteem more highly of a wise man in his shirt, then of a fool in his richest Trappings: and for my own part, I cannot love you.  Rub. 
Never marry her then, Master: for if you do, you may chance be a kinsman to the great Turk, and blazon the Horns for your Arms.  Prae. 
You do but jest, you speak not hearty?  Var. 
You'll find I am in earnest. Farewell, you know my resolution.  Exit. Prae. 
O Rubio, call her back.  Rub. 
Will she come when I call her?  Prae. 
Conjure her then.  Rub. 
I am no Necromancer, I never studied the black Art in all my life: But d'ye hear Dona Varina I call you, I conjure you to come unto my Master Don Praepontio. Sure, Master, she's no Devil, for if she were, she would have risen at my conjuration.  Prae. 
But what shall we do to get her?  Rub. 
Faith, Sir, you and I and half a dozen more good fellows will rifle for her, you shall have Dice will run nothing but six.  Exeunt.  

Scena secunda.  Enter Varina sola. 
THis doting Don thinks that his years have made  
Him wise, in fishing with a golden bait,  
And doth presume his gold hath power so fare  
For renovation of his aged Corpse,  
As had Medea's enchanting spells to Aeson:  
He thinks that women's aims are fixed on lands,  
And that they frame their love on Silver-mines.  
Treasure's not loadstone for a maid's affection.  
Alas! He doth mistake our Sex in this,  
Though Gold be welcome to enrich our train,  
Yet not so far as that we should neglect  
The chief of all, the person of a man:  
Should we permit the flowers of our youth  
Thus to be nipped by Ages snowy Winter,  
And so bereave ourselves of all those joys  
Which Nature hath conferred on our Sex,  
While blooming in our youth, for earth and dirt?  
No! 'tis not so, this is my resolution;  
Gold with a Man is good, but if I choose,  
I'll take the Man, and will the Gold refuse.  Exit.  

Scena tertia.  Enter Roderiguez solus. 
Unhappy eye! which didst attract those beams,  
To set my heart on fire! Unhappy ear!  
Which didst with such a greediness suck in  
The charm of her lips! and than convey  
Them through thy winding palace to my brain,  
Which works and beats, as if the Cyclops held  
Their Forge within my head: Unhappy man!  
Thus to become a slave unto thy passion!  
Confine these lovesick thoughts, or drive them out,  
Lodge not such enemies within thy breast,  
They'll be thy ruin! But (alas!) my power  
Is transmigrated to another's breast;  
Yet would it were, so might I hope at length  
My love might crowned be with good success.  
Dry up thy eyes.  Enter Chaves. Cham 
Good morrow to you, Sir!  
What passion hath surprised you, that you seem  
Another man? Eugenia's well, I hope.  
Discover, friend, what strikes thee in these dumps;  
Your eye betrays you, somewhat is amiss,  
Prithee what is't?  Rod. 
Chaves, thou art my friend,  
And 'twere a sin not to impart it to thee.  
Here lately was a Lady, which my eye  
No sooner did discover, but my heart  
Was all involved in flames, a sudden ague  
Seized upon all my limbs, that to approach  
Nearer, or speak I could not: in this ecstasy  
I stood awhile unmoveable, till she  
Quit the place.  Cham 
What is she? ne'er despair,  
Have her thou shalt, though she were made of gold.  Rod. 
Varina is her name, she's well endowed  
With all that Art or Nature can bestow;  
That—  Cham 
Feed not thyself with these; prithee what is she?  
Where lives she? Pray reveal it.  Rod. 
Sir, her Father  
Was a rich Merchant of this famous City,  
Who dying in the Indies, left this his Orphan  
Sole heir to his estate; which he bequeathed  
Unto Alonza's care; he hath betrothed her  
Unto a foolish Lord, one Don Praepontio,  Cham 
Expel these clouds of sorrow, we'll make our wits  
Outreach his wealth! Come! let us write a letter,  
I'll have it safe conveyed; once get admittance,  
And she's thine own.  Enter Varina. Var. 
Most sacred Goddess, to whose sacred shrine  
The greatest Kings, nay Jove himself hath bowed,  
Contain my passions, keep my sudden Love  
Within the bounds of maiden modesty,  
Sweet Roderiguez! now me thinks I see  
Majesty couched in thy serene brow,  
Upon thy tongue enthronised Eloquence  
Within thy looks Cupid in's best array;  
And when thou goest, the humble ground doth sink,  
As if submissive to thy stately Port;  
But Stay! my Passions, stay; let's pause awhile,  
My affections must not lead me in a maze;  
Discretion doth advise that Pallas rule,  
And Cupid serve; she will me best direct  
To my terrene Elysium, Pause awhile,  
Listen to Judgements dictates; they are best.  
The Carthaginian Princess lost her life,  
And credit too by her too quick affection;  
Phillis confiding in Demophoöns' vows  
Did lay her Bridal pallet in the grave:  
Repentance soon made Oenoës' angry tongue  
Condemn the rash credulity of her ears.  
And so may I Varina, if I yield  
To Passions hare-brained, wild instructions:  
Then set a bay unto thy loves swift Current;  
See his affections first, and if he prove  
Loving to thee, Varina, do thou Love.  
See, see the Object of my best respect;  
Oh! did my heart enjoy that happiness  
As doth that Gentleman, whose subject ears  
Such music entertain, as hover spheres  
Yield in their proper motions, his breath  
Falls on his shoulders as doth Zephyrus  
On Flora's party coloured vestments, ah!  
Why do I languish thus? I'll speak to him,  
It is as fit for maids to court, as men;  
If that the truth were rightly scanned; but niceness  
And Custom do forbid it; it's no sin  
If well we weigh it in its proper balance;  
Then set the better foot before, and try,  (She goes forward, but slies back) 
Oh! what exploit began I to attempt?  
What, casting off the weed of modesty  
To  myself with impudence? O fie!  
Should it be said, Varina did disrobe  
Herself of grace, and virginpurity,  
And turned masculine, to court a stranger?  
No! back, base Cupid! thy Rhet'rick I scorn  
Now in my second rumination, it may be  
That time will quench this burning Aetna in me,  
Or heavens inspire him for to know my love:  
Grant one of these ye Gods, and pity me,  
Afford your help in this extremity.  Exit. Cham 
Be it so, I'll send the letter.  Rod. 
I hold the mission of a letter best,  
One line, one sentence with premeditation,  
Quickens, doth bear a greater prevalence  
Than words extemporary can expect:  
Words are like infants, whose unwelcome birth  
(If premature) bring death unto their mother.  Cham 
Let it be so.—  Rod. 
It shall be so, Apollo guide my pen,  
And let thy Heliconian Fountains yield  
Liquor unto it, that the thing I writ  
May there prevail, where rests my souls delight.  Exeunt.  

Scena quarta.  Enter Chaves and Picarro drawing. PIc. 
Come, come Sir, draw, or by this hand and sword  
I'll be your Priest.  Cham 
Sure you mistake, I am not  
The man you look for.  Pic. 
You shall find, my eyes  
Have their true object: Coward, prate not, draw,  
Let s view thy weapon.  Cham 
Sir, your habit speaks you  
A man, and noble, I admire your judgement  
Should be so rash to quarrel with me, who  
ne'er injured you, and to my knowledge, till  
This time, ne'er saw you.  Pic. 
All your Rhetoric  
Shall not excuse your carcase, turn and fight,  
Or perish.  Cham 
Tell me why, and then you'll find  
I am no Coward.  Pic. 
Hear my reason, You  
Have offered me an injury; I must not  
Put up, while you do walk with that same nose:  
Make haste and draw; Draw, or this slave shall beat  
Courage into thee, Coward.  Cham 
Well, perforce  
Since you will tempt a danger from my arm,  
Received.  Picarro falls. 
So now, I hope, you'll yield the cause  
Made you so valiant.  Enter Mariana. Mar. 
Stay, for pity save  
Picarro's life, take mine, as you're a man,  
Bridle your fury.  Cham 
Do I dream? who speak?  Mar. 
A hapless Virgin! let the prayers and tears  
Of one that never sued before, redeem  
His life's dire forfeit: if you be so cruel,  
That nought but blood will suit your anger, here  
Sheath your bright weapon in my breast, my blood  
Will sooner quench your ireful heat; kill me,  
And let him live.  Cham 
Sure she has stolen from heaven  
An Angel's utterance; had Ulysses heard  
This Siren minurize, the mast had been  
Too weak to hold him; Orpheus might have learned  
New notes to fit's harp; had a savage Scythe,  
Or untamed ●●re, when manacled they drive  
Whole flocks of men before them, on whose flesh  
Death straight should riot, hear her speak, their fierceness  
Would soon relent, they would forget the sweetness  
Of their inhuman banquet, and let lose  
Those they had marked for slaughter.  Mar. 
Pray you Sir.  Cham 
Historians truly may relate how stones  
Followed Amphion to the Theban walls;  
How lofty Ossa and Banchaia danced  
At overhearing the Odrysian Lyre;  
That Dolphins at Arion's Harp grew tame,  
And couched their scaly backs to bear him out  
Of Neptune's foamy surges; likely 'tis  
And possible, since one Accent from her lips  
Can work far greater miracles, I would raise  
A man that long had bedrid lain; nay, were he  
Withered with feeble age, should she smile on him  
He well might laugh at sage Meden's charms:  
Tell Aeson then, that her blessed look had made him  
Fuller of youthful vigours, than the force  
Of her enchanted herbs infused into him.  Mar. 
Then you will save him?—  Cham 
Look, how dark sorrow's beautified? how comely  
She's in her tears? they sit upon her cheeks  
Like Erythraean pearls enchased on grounds  
Of true Vermilion: Foolish Lapidaries!  
What need you borrow of the frozen Zone  
Congealed Ice? catch these drops, they're more precious  
Than most transparent Crystal; I would fain  
Grant thy request, but that I should too soon  
Be exiled from that blessing which your presence  
Fully affords me; yet 'tis too unholy  
That she should kneel, I'll raise her.  Mar. 
Here I'll lie.  (He offers to raise her.) 
Prostrate for ever, less you please to save  
Picarro's forfeit life.  Cham 
How happy, heavens!  
Is he in being vanquished, to have  
So fair a saver? would my life had been  
Put at his mercy: For your sake I'll grant  
Him life on this condition, That he tell  
What made him be my enemy.  Mar. 
This morning  
If I mistake not, passing by our coach  
As we were coming from our Vineyard, you  
Pulled up the Curtains, drawn before, to see  
Who were within, which he in heat of blood,  
Took as a wrong, and followed you.  Cham 
I'm sorry  
I was discourteous.  Mar. 
Come Picarro, Signior,  
I am your worths true servant.  Exeunt Mar. and Picarro. Enter Roderiguez and Boy. Rod. 
How now Chaves?  
What drawn so near the City? pray heavens! my stay  
Has not endangered you: met you with thiefs?  Cham 
With one hath stolen my best of Jewels; Sir,  
I am undone; lost friend for ever.  Rod. 
Why?  Cham 
Look I not strangely o'er I did? My looks—  Rod. 
Why? What should ail you? Are you frighted, Sir?  Cham 
Do not my eyes speak my heart's falsehood? Ha!  Rod. 
Chaves, dear friend, how far you? Is all well?  Cham 
I prithee be my Priest, and sacrifice  
My treacherous carcase to Eugenia, do it,  
And when I yield the Ghost, I'll tell thee friend,  
That I far well: ne'er stare on me, my life  
Is a worse torture than the rack, or wheel,  
Ixion's plague is but a play-game to't  
Nor his that rolls the revoluble stone,  
Nor that of proud Prometheus, on whose heart,  
Th'insulting Vulture preys.  Rod. 
Alas! he raves!  
What cursed Friend tempts you to be thus desperate?  Cham 
Desperate? Kill me, let thy Rapier do it,  
ne'er muse upon it, I deserve to die:  
Do justice on me.  Rod. 
Tell me why, and then  
Perchance I'll do it.  Cham 
Hear me then, Suppose  
I had a beauteous sister, you Roderiguez  
Should vow her service, proffer her your love,  
Get my consent, her fathers, and her heart too,  
And aster fool both him and her, and me.  
Should I not kill you, think you?  Rod. 
Yes, I deserved it.  Cham 
Then here's my sword, I've done all this and more,  
The vow's I made to your Eugenia's nothing,  
A dream, an airy shadow, you are fooled,  
Your father's cozened by my hopes; 'tis true,  
I love another.  Rod. 
'Tis impossible;  
Your fury makes you utter this.  Cham 
By the hopes  
I have that thou wilt kill me, I have spoke  
No more but truth, by all that's good I have not:  
I love another.—  
I stole her countenance, but she my heart.  Rod 
You're a treacherous man,  
Base and unworthy, take your weapon back,  
Defend yourself.  Cham 
I will not, I confess  
I have deserved death, but it grieves me, that  
By thy hands I must suffer; but my fate  
Is : Dispatch me.  Rod. 
Stay,  
 I do kill thee, think how ominous  
Thy crime is: young men will abhor thee, virgins  
Hearing thy fault, will with their imprecations  
Heap tortures on thee: Poor Eugenia! Sister!  
I grieve for thee most: Are you ready?  Cham 
Yes!  
Not to resist, but to be sacrificed.  Rod. 
I'll not become his Butcher: for the name  
Of Friend, so often vowed between us, holds  
My arms, I cannot strike him; live to see  
Heaven work thy ruin: I'll not be thy Priest.  
Farewell, false man, and look who e'er thou wed,  
she'll be a faithless strumpet to thy bed!  Cham 
Thou liest, return, I'll fight:—  
She, I now love, is one, thou oughtest not mention  
Less on thy knees with reverence: one, whose looks  
Would even allure a Hermit, who had spent  
His years in solitude, to leave his Cell,  
And heavenly contemplations, to admire  
Her perfect essence, darest thou prophesy  
Her for a strumpet? wert thou armed with thunder  
This arm should reach thee, Clouds of lightning shall not  
Secure thee: Know Sir, she is one, whom Angels  
Would to enjoy, desert their bliss, and vote  
No less than adoration due unto  
Her heavenly virtues—  Rod. 
he's past hopes! more sisters  
I have, more friends so worthy as himself  
I ne'er can hope for: Sir, I pity you  
And can my service help you ought in gaining  
Your Love, command it.  Cham 
Meanest thou thus?  Rod. 
You use not  
To find me faithless: not my sister's wrong  
Shall make me prove disloyal: may I know her  
Is your new Mistress?  Cham 
There's my misery,  
I know her notmy self, but 'tis the same  
Was in the Coach we overtook.  Rod. 
Is't she?  
That's Mariana, Daughter to Alonzo  
The Indian Merchant, I am well acquainted  
With Garspar, noble Chaves: he, who is  
Her Father's Cashkeeper, him we'll use as means  
To win her for you: Our Varina lives  
In the same house: come! let's about it.  Cham 
heavens prosper our designs, and may our fate  
Make us in them, them in us fortunate.  Exeunt.  

Scaena quinta.  Enter Varina Sola. 
THose Sulphurous flames, which Aetna's fiery paunch  
Assidually into the air doth vomit,  
Bear not such force as doth this Paphian fire:  
Unconstant supposition never taught me  
This instant lesson, but experience:  
That poisoned token in the Centaur's blood,  
Which made Alcides burn in living flames,  
Had not such vigour, as these parching fires:  
Which, while I fan with sighs, and think by groans  
To puff them out; the more (alas) they flame:  
If not extinguished by some timely showers  
My heart must turn an Aethiop: Come! sweet Boy!  Enter Boy 
And sing à Lachrymae unto my woes  
A mournful Lachrymae, that from my eyes  
Whole Seas of brinish liquor may arise  
To drench this heat; I cannot now admire  
That Cupid's Father was the God of Fire.  Boy sings. 


1.  
Sweet Cupid hear  
A Maiden vow;  
Though thou art blind, thou hast an ear;  
Let him, whom I love, know  
What pain and smart  
Lies burning in my heart,  
To this my humble boon dispense  
Thy sacred influence;  
And (though to cure thy eyes:)  
Let not a Virgin full thy Sacrifice.   

2.  
Sweet Venus, see,  
And make me blessed  
Visit me in this misery,  
Connive at my request:  
Assist thy Son  
Till he hath done.  
His mystic rites, and with new fires  
Fulfil a Maids desires:  
Else here I'll prostrate lie  
For ever, and will Swanlike, singing die.   

3.  
Lendme a quill, etc.    Var. 
Enough! this yields but nutrimental food  
Unto my dumpish humours; go, begun,  Exit Boy 
Poor soul! how art thou tortured in distraction,  
And discomposed in various resolutions:  
Sometimes to speak is countenanced as good;  
But modesty steps in, and checks my impudence:  
Then silence is thought best, but that would wrong  
That noble Person that deserves my Love:  
Thus while I practise for to quench the fire,  
I do increase it, and it flames the higher.  Enter Thomaso (Chave's man) Tho. 
Save you, sweet Mistress, th' noble Roderiguez  
Desires but so much favour at your hands  
As to peruse this his most humble missive.  Var. 
He may command a greater thing than this.  (She reads it) Tho. 
I hope the Heavens do prosper our Achievements;  
Her countenance warrants a good acceptande.  Var. 
You may for this time departed, and tell your Master,  
That matters of such weight, desire some pause:  
Before we make an answer: Friend, too morrow  
About this time you may expect it here:  Tho. 
All humble thanks, sweet Lady: at that time  
I shall attend your pleasure: all sweet happiness  
That can be wished, attend you.  Exit. Var. 
Friend! Farewell!  
See how my storm is turned into a calm,  
My clouded night into a sunshine day,  
My heart but now depressed almost to death,  
Revives, and grows too ample for my breast,  
My fears are banished, and my joys become  
Redundant and superlative: to you  
O heavens! my duty doth return her thanks!  
And testifies it by her grateful hands.  (holds them up to heaven.) 
He, for whose sake I would exchange the world,  
Now throws himself a servant at my feet:  
But let me guide me in my bliss, and wear  
My fortunes wisely in a formal fashion:  
I must not countenance his suit too soon,  
But bridling up my Love with judgements reins:  
Keep at a distance, sergeant my mind  
To be so far estranged from Venus' Court,  
That 'twere as hard to make a Proselyte,  
As me a Soldier in the Paphian field:  
Should I be prone and facile to his will,  
In some few days my kindness would grow stolen:  
The shadow, when pursued doth fly, but turn  
Your back, and it in duty follows you:  
Should I concede too soon, and not deny,  
I should infringe the custom of us maids,  
Who in the things we most of all desire,  
Must feign neglect, or else a mere dislike:  
Well then, how e'er I'll play a maiden's part,  
And make me stubborn, though I break my heart.  Exit.  

Scaena Sexta.  Enter Gaspar, Mariana, Catalina. Gasp. 
FAith! you're a cunning Lover, I had thought  
I had deserved more interest in your trust,  
Then that you thus should steal your nuptials, and  
Ne'er let me know on't, where's my gloves?  Mar. 
Why Gaspar?  
Why shouldst thou think I should be married?  Gas. 
'Cause  
I know 'tis truth; your Father has disclosed  
The party to me.  Mar. 
Party? prithee speak;  
And do not rest; what's that thou prat'st of? husband?  
And Hymenaean rites?  Gas. 
As if you knew not!  Mar. 
Not I truly.  Gas. 
Nor shall you know it then for me, I might  
Incur much danger, should I be but seen  
To kiss your hand thus, discourse with you, in brief  
'Tis to the jealousest, most ignoble man  
In all the City: so farewell, there's all  
That I dare stay to tell you.  Cata. 
Bless you, Mistress.  Mar. 
Cousin, good cousin, leave me not, before  
You have explained this riddle, on my life  
I'll not disclose you told me.  Gas. 
May I trust you?  
Mark then your fate, Your father hath decreed  
You for Don Balthasar old Frederiques' heir,  
They are agreed.  Mar. 
Save me Saints, I'd rather  
Be wedded to a Leper; one half bedrid,  
Laden with gout, and all diseases, would not  
Be half so odious to me: is't not he  
That should have had Varina?  Gas. 
Th' same.  Mar. 
Sweet Gaspar,  
Make some obstructions, and do thou, sweet Jove,  
Be an impediment to that decree.  Gas. 
Cousin, alas! I have quite wearied him  
With my petitions, but he's deaf as Nereus  
Is to the shipwrecked Mariners, or rocks  
Unto the bellowing surges of the Sea.  Mar. 
Thou hast been always honest, Gaspar, and  
A Friend, a Father to me: in this strait  
I'll try thy love; advise which way I shall  
Escape these nuptials; say, is't possible?  Gas. 
I shall be proud to do that office, Kings  
Would glory in; to do you service, Saints  
Would sure disert their bliss: Do you but speak,  
Breath but one accent from those lips, the winds  
Will all contend, which shall be first made blessed  
With its conveyance; your sweet voice can charm  
The Sirens silent, force the Crocodile  
To leave his feigned weeping; at your looks  
Palms would renew their freshness; aged hearts  
Grow young again, Scythians be mild; if ever  
Rash Phaeton's sisters had beheld those drops,  
They never more would boast their Amber tears  
To be more precious.  Mar. 
Push! you flatter me!  
What means this ceremony?  Gas. 
And had those creatures  
Book-blinded men, that dream of other worlds,  
Tell of Elysian blessings, known the joys  
Are in your love, they would have lost themselves,  
As I have done, in contemplation  
Of this surpassing happiness, you bless  
With its enjoying.  Mar. 
You are tedious, tell me  
How to evade this mischief.  Gas. 
Pradon me,  
I'm in a labyrinth, subtler than the cave  
That held the Cretan Minotaur; 'tis easier  
To catch wild Boreas, make Neptune calm  
When he most rageth, then to give your worth  
It's just Encomiums. I'm so fare transported  
With rumination on't beyond myself,  
That I have quite forgot your first demand.  Mar. 
Pray tell me Cousin, How may I delude  
Balthasars' nuptials?  Gas. 
'Tis difficult,  
There is but one way left, and that's to wed  
Another,  you come unto his bed.  Mar. 
Faith! any body, honest Gaspar, bring  
Some aged Lazar from the Hospital,  
Or towing Galliego, and I'll love  
Him rather than the other, let me see  
Whom thou wouldst wish me to.  Gas. 
An honest man,  
One I dare swear that loves you.  Mar. 
Nominate him:  
By all that's good, I'll love him.  Gas. 
She's my own.  
I'll take you at your word—  (aside.) 
Behold the man, the true Idolater  
Of thy perfections, one whos's every thought  
Is on thy virtues, how to give them reverence  
Due to their merits.  Mar. 
This is brave, proceed,  
You're Courtly grown, what spirit has infused  
This unaccustomed phrase into you?  Gas. 
Your  
Love which hath power to give a dumb man utterance,  
Make Idiots Orators to fill the world  
With new inventions; consecrate this Age  
Only to Poets, whose immortal lines  
May celebrate thy praises. Though thy Father  
Can be so perjured after a thousand oaths,  
To seek to rob me of my interest in thee,  
Yet the known goodness of thy Nature tells me,  
Thou'lt not be perjured too, I'm sure thou'lt love me.  Mar. 
Reason good, base man!  
Did all this painted process tend to this?  
Were Balthasar a man composed of vices,  
I'd sooner cast myself away on him,  
Then on thy baseness: Loving'Coz. farewell!  
You may go meditate to get a wife,  
And ruminate on your most base desires  
In the Grand- Placa. Walk, Sir.  Exeunt Mar. and Cat. Gas. 
Is there no thunder left in heaven? Has earth  
Left all its fear, it shakes not at the hearing  
Of such inhuman perjuries, until  
It have a rapture vast enough to swallow  
At once the world, that it may ne'er produce  
Again such treacherous animals, as my fate,  
My cursed fate torments me with: I am  
A proper man, I've limbs enough▪ because  
I have a blemish in my blood, my Mistress  
Rejects me; Thus should I in open Court  
Sue for her as my wife: I have no means  
To stand against her Father, and 'tis gold  
That rules the Law now. Well! since all will be  
Villains, why should I practise honesty?  
I've brains as well as other men, my spirit  
Tells me, there's means to right the wrong. Who's this?  Enter Roderiguez. Rod. 
Gaspar? the man I looked for.  Gas. 
Don Roderiguez!  
What drew you hither?  Rod. 
Sir, my business is  
Now with yourself; Your Master has a daughter  
I have a most deserving friend affects  
Her dearly, wilt thou be a means to gain  
Her favour for him?  Gas. 
I did take you Sir,  
T'have been a person of more real worth  
Then thus t'assay a servants loyalty;  
Think you my Master's daughter shall become  
A prostitute? If this be all your business,  
I must not stay to hear it.  Rod. 
Thou mistak'st,  
I have no such intention, thou shalt raise  
His daughter with a marriage to a man  
Of noble Blood and Fortunes.  Gas. 
But her Father  
Has promised her to one he will not break with.  
You cannot have her.  Rod. 
Hold! there's gold, thou shalt  (Gives him money.) 
Persuade her love my friend, I know thou canst,  
My honest Gaspar.—  Gas. 
Sir,  
I am a man whom stepdame Fortune made  
To eat my bread in servitude, my Master  
Is all the hopes I live by, and my trust  
Hath gained me some respect above a servant;  
Should I undo his purpose, cross this match,  
For your sakes, I should win the execrations  
Of all true servants; and perchance yourselves  
Seeing me false to him, would fear t'impose  
Confidence in me: pray receive your gold,  
I must not do it.  Rod. 
Come! thou shalt, the man  
Thou dost it for will raise thee fare beyond  
Thy expectation, Gaspar.  Gas. 
May I trust you?  Rod. 
What needs these doubts?  Gas. 
Then know my Mistress hates  
The person whom her Father would bestow  
Her on in marriage; would your friend, or you,  
Or any one, there's in the City you may hire  
To kill him, than admission will be easy.  Rod. 
Most excellent! his name? he's sealed for death.  Gas. 
Balthazar, Frederiques' heir, to morrow night  
Your friend and you come to the window, and  
Bring something that may please her, and ne'er doubt  
You shall have gentle audience.  Rod. 
I'll about it.  Exit. Gas. 
Do, on your shoulders I myself will rise  
To quit my Master's monstrous perjuries.  Exit.   

ACT. 2.  

SCENE 1.  Enter Varina sola. 
THus have I framed, though long first, my rescript,  
As well as th' poor Minerva of my brain  
Enabled me; 'tis tart enough, I'm sure,  
To vulnerate and pierce a heart of steel:  
If his affection's biased with virtue,  
He'll re-addresse to me to work the cure,  
What Pelias wounded, it alone could heal;  
The limb that's burnt we hold unto the fire,  
Loves wounds must have their Balsam from that hand  
That made the Ulcer. Stay! th'Times Clock doth prompt me  
This hour Thomaso promised to be here,  
To bear my answer back. He comes: Your actions  Enter Thomas 
Are comments to your words, and what your tongue  
Of late expressed, your diligence performs.  Tho. 
Right worthy Lady, should I vilify  
My faith by misperformance, I should think  
Myself degenerate from what I was.  Var. 
Your words engage my faith; friend, there's my answer.  Tho. 
Thanks worthy Lady, this shall surely have  
Acceptance far more gracious from your servant,  
Then such a Jewel which th' Egyptian Queen  
(To add a compliment to sumptuousness)  
Dissolved drank unto her Anthony.  Var. 
Then bear it to him instant, it may be  
His expectation may be harassed out:  
For what desire commands us to expect,  
Time, if protracted, maketh us disgust;  
Haste therefore, and farewell.  Exit. Tho. 
Adieu! sweet Lady!  
Now if this Letter bear a gentle sense,  
And gives a Fiat to Rod'riguez suit,  
His heart will mount so high with joy, that it  Enter Roderiguez. 
Outstrips imagination. Noble Sir—  Rod. 
What news Thomaso? come and glut my ears  
With comfortable tidings.  Tho. 
Whether such  
As you expect, Sir, or the contrary,  
Resides not in the confines of my knowledge.  Rod. 
Spoke you not with her at the time prefixed?  Tho. 
Yes! and her mind salutes you in this paper.  Rod. 
Came this from her?  Tho. 
I had it from her hands.  Rod. 
Hadst thou encompassed all this Universe,  
Especially the East and Western India,  
And ransacked either of them for their pearls:  
Or hadst thou ripped the bowels of the earth,  
And laid her hidden treasure at my feet,  
It could not have procured the hundredth part  
Of that content, as doth this piece of paper.  Tho. 
Still  be multiplied, and augment  
Your wished beatitude a thousand fold.  (He reads it.) Rod. 
What have we here? A flat denial? Ha'?  
Hardhearted Lady! hadst thou spectacles  
Which might so help thy optitick faculties,  
As to behold my bleeding heart, thou couldst not  
Choose but relent, and love me for my love.  Tho. 
Patience, noble Sir—  Rod. 
'tis cruelty! alas she'd courteous been  
Had she procured my death, or my proscription:  
But thus to charact'rize my torments, and  
To dally with my flames, doth argue she  
Studies the Art of inhumanity.  Tho. 
Let not such thoughts find harbour in your breast,  
Exile them thence.  Rod. 
They took possession:  
And cannot easily be extruded thence.  Tho. 
Why then encounter her yourself, and speak:  
Let not a Letter daunt you, storm again:  
Your parts do speak you man, and you may win her:  
It may be she observes formality,  
In these her actions: and for fashion sake  
Her tongue says not (as maidens use to do)  
When as her mind thinks yea: good Sir, about it.  Tho. 
Thy Council's prevalent, and I'll observe,  
Next time I'll try her: and my reasons shall  
Triumph victorious, or in th'duel fall.  Exeunt.  

Scena secunda.  Enter Hebe's Solus. 
OH! my decayed paunch! is't not a miserable case that a man's belly should ne'er see a piece of roast beef, nor one's guts feel one drop of double drink in two years? There's one Mr. Want, a lean Gentleman of our Parish, hath so debarred me from sustenance, that I scarce weigh threescore on each side, besides feet, head, legs, and offal. There's an old shaver they call Don Praepontio, that lives hereabouts, that maintains his men every day in holiday bellies, and their chaps strut, as if they were created for nothing but to blow bagpipes: now, if I could screw into his service, my spiny Carcase would begin to whine as a dog after flesh, when his chaps run over. But soft, sure this is he.  Enter Praepontio & Rubio. Heb. 
I'll make as if I knew him not, and praise him to's very face, and then I'll warrant you.  Prae. 
Thus perambulating all alone, I ruminate on the multiplicity of those joys, that my Varina might afford me.  Heb. 
Save thee honest friend.  Prae. 
Why? what art thou?  Heb. 
What am I? Thou seest I am neither horse nor mare, bull nor cow, hog nor pig, dog nor rat, mouse nor cat, fish nor flesh, nor good red herring: but as I may say, a mere man.  Prae. 
My Mistress will be well taken, Rubio, to hear this fellow talk; but say, art a mere man, canst thou keep thy money, and not grease the ale-wifes' fingers with it?  Heb. 
How? grease the ale-wifes' fingers with it; nay I should prove a very fool then: for she might then grease my face with her talons, for not paying my reckoning.  Prae. 
Well spoken of a fool.  Heb. 
I, by my faith, Master, was it.  Prae. 
I mean, canst thou keep thy money from spending?  Heb. 
I, Master, if I had it.  Prae. 
Wilt thou live with me?  Heb. 
I, Sir, an't please you, I'm dissolved on that point already.  Prae. 
Go, stand at the Curtains, and seal your lips. Didst thou invite her, Rubio? you must wait very attentively at her elbow, and if perchance a drop fall from her mouth, you must be sure to catch it, I'll have it put in a reliquary: but does not my great ruff become me admirably? will she not like me, thinkest thou, in this suit? I will coin words shall make her in love with me.  Rub. 
You will bewitch her with your very looks, ne'er doubt it; you look now more completely than the great Mogul, or the Archduke.  Prae. 
I have a Lion's Countenance.  Rub. 
Nay, a Bears rather, or a Baboons, you look so smug on't, Master.  Prae. 
But didst thou see what an admirable piece of Poetry I consarcinated in my bed; nay, in my sleep, Rubio?  Rub. 
Some drowsy Poem.  Prae. 
Ovid de Arte Amandi was never like it: Hold my Cloak Rubio, do you see?  Rub. 
I see your backside, Sir.  Prae. 
But mark my Verses, how melodiously they run upon their feet.  Rub. 
They gallop.  Prae. 
Mark. Him— him— him.  
If you would old Nature's wonder  
See, list while I her praise out-thunder:  
Her head a Cedar overgrowes,  
Her rosy Cheeks, and radiant Nose,  
Her hands Lilies, for eyes behold  
Amber or Barbary Gold:  
From her middle to her knees,  
Guess what monstrous rarities  
Lie hid: the Tropic Zone cannot  
Burn, or cast forth flames so hot,  
As does my heart, 'tis she must heal me,  
Or Death will with his paws bemeale me.  
How lik'st thou it?  Rub. 
Horribly, beyond expression.  Prae. 
I will write a whole volume of such Elegies, and put down Lope de vega, or Gacilasso's Poems.  Rub. 
You must get tunes to them, they will pass for excellent new Ballads.  Prae. 
O! my Uncle!  Alu. 
O! my wise kinsman, what says your Mistress?  Prae. 
O Uncle! she is the noblest, wittiest woman that ever I encountered with since I galloped o'er the Alps; she surpasses me in ingeniosity for all my travels.  Rub. 
And my Master, God bless his worship's Coxcomb, told her, you would give her Holland Cheese, Parmasane, and Calves-head to breakfast if she would have him.  Prae. 
Nay, Uncle, she asked me if you would give her your land at Granada.  Alu. 
And what didst thou answer?  Prae. 
Peace, sirrah, Uncle, aspect my judgement in being responsible: I said, I, that he will, if I thought the old dotard would not, I would dash out his brains.  Alu. 
Thank you Nephew! How then?  Prae. 
For, quoth I, although he were hanged, or drowned, or dead any way, though the Devil should carry him away in a Harricane, I should have his land, being as I am, eldest son to his eldest sister; is't not so Uncle? I know my Pedigree.  Rub. 
Master, you need no Herald to blaze your worth, you can do it sufficiently yourself.  Prae. 
True! very true; but Uncle, shall I dance with my Mistress anon, I long to meet her in a measure, I can so caper it.  Enter Alonzo, Varina, and Servant. Alu. 
Here comes your Mistress, and her Uncle.  Prae. 
Pray let me accost them.  Alu. 
Welcome noble friends.  Prae. 
For your part, Sir, à posteriore I salute you thus; and your Sir, thus, with this Italian Fresco: But as for you, my superabundant Mistress, accept the Foetus of my Minerva for your congratulatory welcome.  Var. 
'Tis pity, servant, you are not pictured with a Laurel wreath in your forehead.  Rub. 
Or rather with a Coxcomb's Crest, Mistress.  (Aside. Prae. 
But my most inestimable Mistress, I must dictate to you, That you vilify my brains fecundity, in not applauding my ingenious conceptions, since sure you love me.  Rub. 
Better than she loves Plum-porredge, or Minc't-pyes, I dare protest.  Prae. 
Tell me then, thou Masterpiece of Nature.  Rub. 
Mistress-piece, Sir, she is a woman.  Prae. 
Does not the superficies of my countenance demonstrate as much love as Don Quixot's, or Gerardo's, the unfortunate and ominous Spaniard? am not I kin to the Family of the Guzman's, think you?  Rub. 
Alias, Goosman; alias, Goodman Goose.  (aside.) Prae. 
And am I not the most acute, complete, polite Itinerator that ever capered over the Alps, and the Pyrenaean mountains, and the most sublime and ingenious Poet that ever drank of the Heliconian, Castalian, and Pierian Fountains: Have not I sixteen languages exactly, perfectly, and perspicuously.  Rub. 
Sixscore, Master.  Prae. 
Come, my supereminent Mistress, let us expatiate to refresh our palates with our delicious banquets, the minced pies, and the Plumpudding which my English Cook made me, will be cold else. Come, sirrah, follow.  Exeunt. Heb. 
Now my sweet guts and garbege, my Father's old Boots were never so liquored and greased as you shall be.  Exit.  

Scaena tertia.  Enter Chaves, Roderiguez, and Boy. Cham 
HAst thou the Song? Boy?  Boy. 
Yes, Sir.  Cham 
Are the Musician's ready?  Boy. 
They expect behind you pillar.  Cham 
But art thou sure this is her window?  Rod. 
The same, ne'er fear, we shall have audience.  Boy sings. 


1  
Hail Mariana! let thine eyes  
From their sable Clouds arise,  
And dart their fire  
(At our desire)  
To re-illuminate the skies.   

2  
The Moon is down, the Stars do hid]  
Their lustre, and our zeal deride,  
Vnveil thy beams,  
Those goldenst eams  
Will vie them in their greatest pride.   

3  
Shine forth sweet light! one gentle ray  
Will drive, our dismal night away;  
And make us deem  
Sol mounts his Team;  
Our zeal shall swear 'tis break of day.   

4  
Let us, sweet Saint, thy virtues know,  
How great a brightness they can show,  
Tell us the Sun  
Is backward run,  
And that he hath reversed his Plough.   

5  
Shine out sweet Venus, thou canst soon  
Transcend the Taper of the Moon,  
And with thy light  
Quicken the night,  
Turning our Morning into Noon.   

6.  
Hail! Mariana, cast an eye  
With a relenting sympathy;  
Vnvail the books  
Of thy sweet looks,  
And let me read my Destiny.    Rod. 
So now departed, and charge the Musicians they say nothing.  Boy. 
I will Signior.  Exit. Rod. 
The window is opened, friend, list who speaks.  Mariana and Catalina, out at the window Mar. 
I marvel, Catalina, who bestowed  
This Music on us; it was good and sweet.  Cat. 
Some one, that dogged you home from Alvaradoes,  
Some Amorado.  Rod. 
Speak Sir, now or never.  Cham 
All peace content and joy attend you Ladies.  Mar. 
What man art thou, that when Nights Curtain's drawn,  
And with her sable mantle vails the skies,  
Darest venture on our secrets?  Cha, 
One, you promised  
When for your sake I saved Picarro's life,  
To keep in memory.  Mar. 
Sir, if you are he,  
I am obliged, I confess, to honour  
Your nobleness, but these untimely hours  
Admit no conference: for your Music, Sir,  
We give you thanks; so much I love you, that  
I'll not endanger you, if you be seen,  
You run your life's dire hazard, Sir, good night,  
Fair thoughts attend you.  Cham 
Stay! for Love's sake, were there  
Dangers as thick here, as there's stars above us,  
I would contemn them all; if death itself  
Should here encounter me, l'ld scorn the fury:  
Tell him his hand had here no power; your presence  
Makes men immortal.  Mar. 
'Cause you shall not, Sir,  
Condemn me of discourtesy; I'll stay,  
But to your purpose, let me know it briefly;  
Or I must be unmannerly.  Cham 
Why then,  
In brief I love you, and desire your love.  Mar. 
And is this all, good night!—  Cat. 
Hear him out, Mistress', he's an honest Gentleman,  
I know by's words;  Cham 
My zeal could tell you, Lady,  
That your are fair; you know it; that your eyes  
Cloth night in days robes, and eclipse the stars  
With their bright lustre; that you are the model  
Of Nature's artifice, her true Idea,  
In whose brow Art and Beauty wedded meet,  
But these, dear Mariana, and the like  
Pedantic terms, I leave to those whose loves  
Are in their lips; I'll be as plain in speech,  
As zealous in respects; my deeds shall speak  
My Love no Changeling  Mar. 
But I cannot, Sir,  
Nor must not love you many one would feed  
Your flames with frustrate species to deride  
Your passions, but I do carry with me  
More honest thoughts: as you have been, I'll be  
Brief: save your labour Signior, they are fruitless,  
You sing to th' deaf, and plough the sandy shore,  
I must not love you.  Cham 
I'm obliged to you!  
'Tis well and nobly done to put an end  
To my hot tortures, view this blade, the same  
Which for your sake I did restrain from shedding  
Picarro's blood for better ends; shall now  (goes to stab himself.) 
In bloody Characters writ me thy Martyr.  Rod. 
Hold! hold! for heaven's sake; hold!—  
What mean you Chaves?  Cham 
Nothing, but to open  
A vein that's stopped; 'tis good for me to bleed:  
My sword will be a good Phlebotomist,  
I'm sick of th' Pleurisy; a burning fever!  
'Tis better once to die, than thus to live  
In lingering flames; and piecemeal crumble: ha'!  
Be thou my friend; and since my Life cannot,  
Let death now make me pitied: Let me die!  Mar. 
You're a faint hearted Soldier; what dashed  
At first repulse? admit I could afford  
You heart-room in my breast: you might well think  
Me very light, should I at once be won  
Without experience of your Loyalty:  
Besides, our Country's use permits not Children  
To choose their husbands: 'Tis my Father's care,  
Get his consent, and peradventure I  
May yield to love you.  Cat. 
Do sweet Mistress, he's  
A very honest man: I'd take his word.  Cham 
Look! how the enamoured air hangs o'er her lips  
To suck a blessing from them? I can think  
Now 'twas no fable, that bold Boreas  
Rapt fair Orithya, since I see him haste  
To ravish thee of that too precious breath,  
Thy words expire with; it will make his own  
Sweeter than Syrian winds, when nought but Myrrh  
And Bysse perfume them.  Mar. 
You're too hasty Sir.  
It is impossible that I should love you,  
I am contracted.  Cham 
Yet 'tis in your power  
To love your servant.  Mar. 
If Anatomists  
Tell truth, that say, I'th' Centre of our hearts  
There is a little Concave, where resides,  
Our best affections; then your Augury  
Must needs be truth, for all the love lies there,  
Is to another's worth engaged.  Cham 
Make me  
But of your privy Council, pray reveal him.  Mar. 
Then know, since first I saw you, I have been  
(The night will hid my blushing to your face)  
A true devotarist to your lovely virtues;  
Deride me not, dear Signior.  Cham 
I am  
Ravished beyond my hopes, my heart's too narrow,  
Too straitlaced for th'exuberance of my joy.  Enter Balthasar. Balt. 
This is the house: now Gaspar I shall see  
Thy truth, I hear some muttering.—  Mar. 
Walk round the house, my maid shall let you in.  Bal. 
'Tis she, I hear her voice, and here he comes.  
Sir, stay, you must not pass so.  Rod. 
What art thou?  
That thus presum'st to overhear our secrets,  
And rashly tempt thy death.  Bal. 
I am a man,  
Thy equal every way.  Rod. 
About your business,  Cham 
Sirrah, be packing, or I'll send you hence.  Balt. 
Were you encompassed with hot lightning, armed  
With Corslets made of Dragon's mail, your breath  
As poisonous as a Vipers, or a Toads,  
Yet I alone would dare t'encounter you.  Rod. 
You're very valiant: Frenzy prompts you thus,  
Or else 'tis some fat Fleming, who being drunk,  
Hath lost his way to th'brothel, and doth think  
To find his drab here: Friend, 've lost your way:  
Be wise, and save your carcase by a retreat:  
You I walk, nay make a leg, and thank me too  
For letting you to pass, or I shall teach  
Your noll more manners.  Bal. 
Teach thyself, false man,  
More honesty: which of you is it, that  
Thus Courts my Mariana? cause to him  
I only speak.  Cham 
'Tis I.  Bal. 
Then let me tell you:  
You injure one, that never injured you:  
She's mine, betrothed to me:  Cham 
I'm sorry 'twas  
My hapless fate to meet you in this place,  
I shall but post you through the Avernal Lakes  
On Embassy to Pluto: and desire  
Those Deities to fit you with a Mistress:  
You'll have her forcibly, although you see  
She cannot love you? gentle friend, put up!  
This is a glorious quarrel, every drop  
Of blood, that's spilt, will have a Crown beyond  
The palm of Martyrs▪ For my Mistress? come!  
Address yourself to prayers first.  (Draws.) Balt. 
Prithee stay:  
Thou seem'st a person qualified, before  
We fight and die (for that one of's must do)  
Think what unworthy and inhuman cause  
You stand to justify with blood: her Father  
Hath given her me, before whole Quires of Saints,  
(heavens hierarchy) we were contracted: do not,  
Blinded with lust, run headlong to a sin,  
So foul and horrid: hazard not your souls  
Lasting salvation in a quarrel, so  
Unjust on thy part: say, it should be my fate  
(As it may be) to kill you: what a mass  
Of endless woe thou pluckst upon thy head?  
Hadst thou no other crimes to charge thy soul,  
Think what a monstrous, and ignoble sin  
Is supplantation in this kind of wrong:  
Above Astraea's Laws? A Christian, Sir,  
(As you should be) at naming this would have  
A frigid palzy in his veins: pray, tell me,  
Feel you no Earthquake in you?  Cham 
Thus, and thus  
I'll Catechise you.  (Stabs him) Bal. 
Oh!  (falls) Rod. 
So preach in hell:  
We have full entrance now, but least the noise  
Disturb the house, we'd best departed, and come  
When the next night in favour to us shrowds  
Sleeping Olympus in her dusky clouds.  Cham 
I do approve your counsel:—  Exeunt. Balthazar riseth up. Bal. 
So! they are gone: I'm hurt, my loss of blood  
Makes my legs falter: Fool, to shed a drop  
In an effeminate quarrel: can the name  
Of woman pass without fell execrations  
Through these parched lips? henceforth I will evade them,  
As the infectious scum of pestilence:  
To Troy once famous one base Helen brought  
A final ruin: fair Persepolis  
Had still stood Asia's glory, had not Thais  
(That obscene Thaiuml; s) by her witchcraft made  
Fond Alexander to consumeed by fire:  
Each woman is a plague: I justly may  
Curse their whole sex, since Mariana's false.  
I must be silent.  Enter Gaspar. Gasp. 
Balthasar?  Bal. 
Who art thou?  Gasp. 
'Tis I, your servant Gaspar! are my words  
Not truth: have you not met with them: Alas!  
I fear you're wounded: Sir, base villains!—  Bal. 
Yes doubly Gaspar, for my body's harms  
Surgeons may cure them: but the wounds my mind  
Suffers, 's past help of plasters: Oh! I bleed:  
These are but scratches, here's a wound indeed.  Gasp. 
Faith! think not on it, Sir, she may be honest,  
Though she hath suitors: women will delight  
In the plurality of servants.  Bal. 
But  
That she whostood the Goddess of my love,  
Whose truth should Angels with me have sought to blast,  
I should have judged them liars: should be thus  
Inconstant, false: this puts me quite beyond  
The confines of all reason!  Gasp. 
Good Sir! patience.  Bal. 
Patience! what's that? pray carry me to some  
Infected Pesthouse, or foul Hospital,  
Where all diseases flourish: where no sound  
Person can enter, but he must return  
Full fraught with all contagions: there I'll steal  
From one a plague-sore; rob another of  
His purple spots, this of a fever, till  
I have ingrossed all maladies, that carry  
A spreading rancour with them, and that have  
Death in their bosoms: then I'll straightway come,  
And keep society with none, but women:  
Till the whole sex have shared of death, and those  
(For some will live) that do remain to keep  
Earth's store alive, be so infected, that  
Their future issue be all monstrous: Tell me,  
Should I not fit her then for this, and all  
That bear the name of women?  Gas. 
Sir, you grow  
Outrageous in your passion; your blood  
Carries a fervour, that won't let this pass  
Without revenge; I'll work the means, if you  
Have heart to act it.  Bal. 
Wilt thou do't?  Gas. 
ne'er feared:  
Go to your lodging, dress your wounds, you may  
Inform her Father at your leisure.  Bal. 
Well,  
I'll rest upon thy care, and make my hand  
In thanks retaliate thy just deserts.  Gas. 
O! that I could but borrow for this instant,  
A viper's breath to blast thee, but 'tis well,  
Vines clip not Elms for nothing, I must twine  
About them subtly, till they kiss the earth,  
Or else my ends will have abortive birth.  Exit.  

Scena quarta.  Enter Varina. Var. 
NOw should I be entrapped in my own Gin,  
Whom should I blame, but only my false heart?  
Should that unkindness dropping from my pen,  
Extinguish quite poor Roderiguez flame,  
On whom should I disgorge my troubled stomach,  
But on myself? 'tis pretty to consider  
How I expose myself unto a wound,  
To make another bleed.—  Enter Roderiguez. Rod. 
Pardon, sweet Damsel, this my bold intrusion,  
Urged not by rude behaviour, but by love.  Var. 
Sir, you're a stranger; but if it be void  
Of ill intent, your pardon's quickly sealed.  Rod. 
If that to evidence the true affection  
I always bare unto your noble self,  
Be ill intent, than my access is conscious.  Var. 
To court me with your love, Sir, it is strange,  
I'm a poor Orphan, one whom Fate decreed  
To hang my Fortunes on another's girdle,  
Time sure hath proved himself a cunning Artist,  
That in so short a space could frame a subject  
For your affection; 'tis not long a go  
My eyes took their first notice of you.  Rod. 
Time.  
Is not that cunning Artist, but your virtues,  
Which through the winding convex of my ears,  
Conveyed this winding admiration to my heart,  
'Tis not your means, sweet Lady, but your love  
That I now covet: For your guardians favour,  
I weigh it little, so you'll grant me yours:  
Throw not those angry fire-balls of thy eyes  
Upon me who am Touchwood, lest I here  
Moulder to ashes; bid them that they keep  
Fast their Artillery; 'tis your milder beams,  
Those rays of favour that we now request.  Var. 
Though I am conscious of no demerits  
Residing in me, that might claim these praises,  
These pickthanks of your tongue, I think myself  
Too good to entertain a scornful jeer;  
For honour's sake forbeared.  Rod. 
Wretched mistake!  
That you should once conceive my heart could lodge  
The least base thought that's Traitor to your honour!  Var. 
But hear me, Sir, Once walking with my Nurse  
For recreation in our shady groves,  
She told me her prophetic spirit feared  
Some false One would betray me to his love,  
And to my ruin.  Rod. 
If 'twas me she meant,  
The Sibyl lied.  Var. 
Howe'er, it breeds suspicion.  Rod. 
What demonstration of my zealous faith  
Can this your incredulity exact?  
Shall I contend in combat with the Lion?  
Or else affront the ugly foaming Boar?  
What is't that I shall do? Speak, and 'tis done:  
Shall I betake myself to th' Russian Fields  
Ith' midst of Winter, where my faithful blood  
May freeze to Coral, and my sad laments,  
Congeal with th'air? Shall I devote myself  
A sactifice to Aetna, or to Neptune?  
Shall I achieve to fetch the golden fruit  
From th'scaly Dragon? pluck fell Cerberus out  
From's stinking den? These, or a thousand more,  
I'll do at your command.  Var. 
To promise, Sir,  
Is easy, when performance lags behind.  Rod. 
'S your heart so prepossessed, that there's no room,  
No corner left to hold one grain of faith?  Var. 
I'll try your love; here, take this, drink it off.  (gives him wine) 
Leave not one drop i'th' bottom of the cup.  Rod. 
What e'er it be, I'll banish fear and do't.  (drinks.) Var. 
Is't of?  Rod. 
It is.  Var. 
Then know that thou art poisoned.  
This is that draught which to Ulysses' mates,  
In stead of drink sage Circe did extend;  
'Tis venom's quintessence, rank poison.  Rod. 
Poison?  Var. 
Yea, poison! not the ugly Toad includes  
Worse venom than that potion.  Rod. 
Methinks,  
I feel no alteration in my blood.  Var. 
I know that too. Th'time for its operation  
Is not yet come; some seven hours hence, and then  
A deadly fire raging within thy breast,  
Shall make thy Arteries crack, and tear thy nerves:  
An Iron girdle shall not hold thy body  
It shall so swell with this envenomed draught.  Rod. 
Alas! good Lady, you much fail i'th' end  
For which you practise this; you plot my torture  
By fear of death, alas! you do mistake,  
My love shall own you for her greatest friend:  
For thus to live, deprived of your love,  
Is worse ten thousand times then death itself.  
Then, thank you for this cruel courtesy,  
I will not style you cruel, or hard hearted,  
But pitiful, a kind and loving Lady,  
And so will limb your virtues to the life:  
This kindness challenges my best respects;  
First, that you fix a period to my flames:  
Next, that I die a sacrifice to you:  Var. 
What? Art thou glad to die, and proud to fall A victim by my hands?  Rod. 
Your victim, Lady!  Var. 
Do not dissemble, in the heavenly Choir  
There's no permission for an hypocrite  
To be a Chorister; do not palliate  
Th'internal thoughts with such Hypocrisy.  Rod. 
I scorn the Title of an Hypocrite,  
I lived your Lover, and will die your Martyr.  Var. 
Then am I sorry for my cruel act.  
There, take thou that, and work thine own revenge  (gives a bodkin.) 
While time permits.  Rod. 
It shall not be, sweet Lady.  
First, should these eyes behold these wretched hands  
Pluck forth my entrails: should my harmless soul  
When 'tis transported over Charon's passage,  
But have intelligence that you were injured.  
It would return, and kill your enemy.  Var. 
What needs a further trial of thy love?  
Then know, that draught I gave thee was not poison,  
But is as cordial as th' Hyblaean neclar.  Rod. 
This is beyond the fathom of my weak  
Conception's, that you durst expose your life  
To one, whom you (for aught he knew) had injured.  Var. 
I durst exposed to thee, I knew thy heart,  
Forgive me now the rude assault I made  
Upon thy patience: here accept my hand,  
My heart, my love, 'tis all thine own.  Rod. 
This gift  
Is more to me then th' Oriental Empire,  
Which lies embroidered with earth's chiefest treasure,  
Pactolus, nor proud Tagus cannot bring  
So rich a Present to their native Prince,  
As is Varina's love: Alas! one kiss  
Stolen from her lips, is worth th' Grand-Signiors bliss.  Exeunt.  

Scaena quinta.  Enter Gaspar, solus. 
I'll be an Argus, for no other name  
Will better sit me; I will watch this Io,  
I'll dive into her secrets, and her maids;  
I'll look with eagle's eyes into her ways,  
And went she through her actions as the snakes  
Glide o'er the stones, yet would I find their tract.  Exit.  

Scena sexta.  Enter Alonzo, Frederique, Picarro. Alo. 
LEt me persuade you, Brother, to surcease  
This endless suit, what wilt advantage you  
To keep his carcase?  Fred. 
Why ran he in debt?  
I could have kept my money.  Pic. 
Sir, my Father  
Doth not deny to pay you, all he asks  
Is time of payment.  Alo. 
Can he offer fairer?  
He owes me money, yet I so respect  
Alvarez credit, that I'll take his word  
Without security.  Fred. 
And because you  
Will play the fool, and lose your money, must  
I do so too; let me then have his land.  Pic. 
Sir, if you'll take my bond, I will oblige  
Myself, and all the land my Father leaves me,  
To give you satisfaction.  Fred. 
Keep your land,  
Sow garlic on't, I will have nought but money▪  
Give me my money.  Alo. 
You're the strangest man  
That e'er I dealt with, had not you fare better  
Take that then lose all▪ say, he die in prison,  
What will you get then?  Fred. 
'S body, that I'll sell  
To the Dice-makers, they shall put his bones  
To the same use they were at while he lived,  
He may thank's gaming for't, the Dice, and ●s Drabs.  Pic. 
My patience will not hear this▪ Covetous man,  
Were't not for th'reverence I owe, this house,  
Thou shouldst not thus abuse thy betters—  Fre. 
He  
Threatens, bear witness, Sir, I'll have your tongue  
Bound to the peace.  Enter Balthazar. Alo. 
Balthazar, pray persuade  
Your Father's patience.  Bal. 
Where's your daughter, Sir?  
Not stirring?  Alo. 
Yes!— Mariana!  Enter Mariana Ma. 
Did you call?  Bal. 
My business, Sir, is private.  Alo. 
We'll withdraw.  Exeunt Alonzo, Frederique, Picarro. Bal. 
Good morrow, Mistress, slept you well last night?  
Your eyes look red, I doubt you slept not well.  Ma. 
What makes you look so ghastly?  Bal. 
Faith! I dreamed  
Last night, that being underneath your window,  
I heard men talk there, and you answer.  Ma. 
Dreams  
Are foolish fancies, and 'tis witchcraft, Sir,  
To credit them.  Bal. 
Nay more, I heard you vow  
Love unto one, and bid him come and enter  
Into your Conclave; you do understand me?  Ma. 
Yes! that you dreamed so.  Bal. 
And as he was going,  
I stayed his passage, and he wounded me.  
And when I waked, blushing Aurora told me  
That I was wounded.  Ma. 
Sir, You did but dream,  
Believe it not.  Bal. 
Yes, Mariana, see  
This Crimson livery which your servants bounty  
Last night bestowed upon me, 'tis a brave one,  
Does't not become me finely?  Ma. 
Saints protect me!  
How came you hurt, my dearest Balthasar?  
You are not wounded?  Bal. 
This is brave, she will  
Persuade me she is innocent. O woman!  
How various are thy humours? thy devices?  
How sly thy projects? Men with ease can find  
Nature's obscurest reaches, overreach  
The craft of Serpents, tame wild beasts, and bring  
All things to their subjection, only woman  
With her deceit, surpasses man, confounds  
His best capacity. But tell me, Mistress',  
Did you not see me wounded?  Ma. 
I? These eyes  
Would have turned blind at such a sight; let's see!  
Is your wound dangerous?  Bal. 
heavens! I think deceit  
Has left its room in Hell, and built its mansion  
Within thy breast: Is't possible your face  
Can be so full of impudence, to swear  
A thing so false?  Ma. 
He raves! I'll call for help!  Bal. 
Yet more Maeanders! tell me hypocrite,  
My fine dissembler, who it was you set  
To be my Butcher? I'll not seek revenge;  
But (as my duty is) go kiss his hands,  
Prostrate my neck unto his honoured feet,  
Because my Mistress loves him.  Ma. 
'Las! he's frantic!  Bal. 
True! you have made me, Mariana, were there  
Any evasion to excuse thy crime,  
I should be ready to believe thou mightst  
Be blameless yet! But I have proofs that banish  
All probabilities, my ears can tell  
That thou'rt turned Harpy; Oh! there is no trust,  
No faith in woman left!  Mar. 
Yet in this fury?  
Dear Balthasar, what have your jealous eyes  
Observed in my behaviour? You should think  
That when my Father's will hath made me yours.  
I should fall off and take another.  Bal. 
Nothing!  
My eyes and feeling fail me, all my senses  
Were wrapped in ecstasies of endless pleasure,  
To think you were my Mistress: I do know  
That you are virtuous, your affection's wholly  
Bend to my love; let me but kiss your hand,  
But touch it only, and you'll soon perceive  
With what an equal temper I can do it;  
I'm none of those who carry hothouses,  
Stoves in their blood, I've been too cold a Lover,  
Too modest with you, therefore you reject me.  Mar. 
Yet more outrageous?  Bal. 
And have taken one  
Some strange-backt monster, whom perchance 've seen  
Out of your window in the Placa, take  
The quick Strappado nimbly, or have born  
Some massy burden, and his big-made joints  
ne'er crack beneath his ponderous weight, that promised  
An abler body to content your lust,  
More raging than a Goats; be brief, who is't?  
Some slavish Galliego, that has stolen  
My interest in thee?  Ma. 
You're a foul mouthed man!  
Come you to rail? you shall find fuel friend  
To feed your fire with, till it's here has burned  
Thy entrails out; I love another, go,  
And tell my father on't, nor you nor he  
Shall know his name: it was the same that hurt you,  
You may go tell, Sir.  Bal. 
Impudence, declare  (draws his sword.) 
Or perish.  Mar. 
Murder!  Enter Alonze, Frederique, Gaspar. Alo. 
How now Balthasar?  
What drawn upon my daughter? 'tis not fair.  Mar. 
Pray give an ear unto my short request;  
As you're my Father, kill me,  my name  
Be blasted thus by this ignoble man,  
Whose head hath forged a crime against me; Fiends  
Would ne'er have dreamt of.  Bal. 
Strumpet!  Alo. 
Sir, desist.  
You have done more already than you'll answer.  Mar. 
He charges me, that underneath my window  
Last night some people hurt him; that he heard  
Men talk to me: which how 'tis possible,  
And you not hear it, judge yourself: but malice  
ne'er wants a subject to defame.  Bal. 
Your servant  
Can verify my words as truth.  Gas. 
Who I?  
Did not the reverence which I owe this house,  
Withhold me from the fury which the lie  
(You call me as a witness to) had stirred?  
In these hot veins, you should be taught, base man,  
How to create such Fabrics.  Bal. 
Slave! we will  
Have vengeance.  Gas. 
Yes! we mean to have it, Sir.  
You'll walk, or by this Rapier  Bal. 
Walk awhile, I shall  
Live to dissect thy treacherous Corpse, as small  
As crumbs or Atoms.  Exeunt Balth. Fred. Mariana. Gas. 
Hark you, Signior,  
The goodness that your goodness makes me owe  
Your Family, obliges me to be  
Nice in a point, that does so near concern  
Your houses reputation: Balthasar  
Said nought but truth, for Mariana has  
Assidual suitors.  Alo. 
Hadst the a Devils spleen,  
Or Serpent's breath, thou couldst not blast her goodness?  Gas. 
First should this weapon rip my entrails out,  
 I would be so impious as to seek  
To blast her fame: honest? her sex may raise  
After her death Mausolaean monuments,  
Or some tall Pyramid, as to the chastest,  
 crowned the name of women Nature first  
Would go awry, the Ocean lose its course;  
 she her virtue. Lass! Sir, I do only  
Tell, she's frequented.  Alo. 
Why did you deny this?  
When he did charge you with it?  Gas. 
Though to you  
In private I give notice; think not, Patron,  
I am so careless of your Daughter's honour,  
Or your good name: (although in things of truth)  
To back her foes. I do believe, her spirit  
Flowing with noble thoughts rejected him  
Only to place her love upon another,  
Of higher merit.  Alo. 
Then it seems you know  
Whom she's frequented by?  Gas. 
you're pleased to call  
My faith in question, Sir.  Alo. 
Next time he comes,  
Be sure you give me notice; that's your charge  Gas. 
I'll lose this worthless breath else, when you see,  
You will believe it, mean time what you please,  
Do Sir: Be sure you shall behold that she  
Shall miss her match by my fine treachery.  (Aside) Exeunt.   

ACT 3.  

SCENE 1.  Enter Roderiguez, Varina, and Corinna. Rod. 
THy Uncle, Love, holds still a jealous eye  
On all my actions: and I am advised  
By my friend Gaspar, that's suspicious ears  
Are still behind the hang: that the servants  
Have from him in commands to watch who visits  
Yourself, or Mariana, 'twill be best,  
And safest in my judgement, in his presence  
That thou forbear to cast a smile upon me:  
And that like old December I should look,  
With an unpleasant and contracted brow:  Var. 
Why? canst thou change thy heart, my Dear, that heart  
Of flesh (thou gav'st me) into Adamant,  
Or rigid Marble? canst thou frown on me?  Rod. 
You do mistake me, sweet, I mean not so  
To change my heart: I'll change my countenance,  
But keep my heart as loyal, as before.  Var. 
In troth I cannot credit it, that thou  
Canst cast a frown on me: I prithee try.  Rod. 
Then thus!—  (He tries and cannot, they smile on each other.) Var. 
I prithee, sweet, betake thyself to school,  
This Lesson thou must learn, in troth thou'rt out.  Rod. 
Well! I must learn and practise it, or we  
Shall blast our budding hopes.  Var. 
Come! try again!  Rod. 
But if I try, and prove a good proficient:  
If I do act my part discreetly, you  
Must take it as a Play, not as a truth,  
Think it a formal, not a real frown?  Var. 
I shall.  Rod. 
Then once more thus,  (He frowns, and saith, I' faith Minion I'll look to you: she 'swounds.) Cor. 
My Mistress hath  
The falling-sickness of us maids! help Sir!  Rod. 
Why how now, sweet? I did distrust thy weakness:  
Now I have learned my part, you are to seek.  Var. 
Faith! 'twas my weakness, when I did perceive  
A cloud of rage condensed on thy brow,  
My heart began to melt: but pardon, sweet!  
'Twas an effeminate infirmity.  Rod. 
This must be left: the world must be deluded,  
With outward species; we must blind their eyes  
With mists and shadows: Faith! thou must disclaim  
Thy childishness, and arm thyself with valour:  
Grow masculine my dear▪ an El'zabeth,  
An English Eliz'beth, whose grave aspect  
Though woman may decline thee almost man.  Var. 
It must be so, or my effeminate heart  
Will prove our ruin.  Enter Gastper. Gas. 
What? you're always billing?  
Measuring your lips together? All the house  
Is in an uproar: and your Uncle's eye  
Rolls up and down in every corner: haste,  
Or you'll be taken: Don Praepontio came  
To visit you, Varina: is enraged  
To find you absent: all your nuptial robes  
(He says) are fitted, and your bridal bed:  
Next Thursday is designed to knit your hands:  
The Priest will then in readiness attend:  
This was the substance of his errand.  Var. 
Gaspar!  
I've thought thee still my friend: and thy advice  
(I know) is sound: Contrive, which way I may  
Eat Don Praepontio's bed; and keep my honour  
Reserved for Roderiguez.  Rod. 
Honest Gaspar!  
Model some way: 'tis not an armed Legion  
Shall stop my passage, till I do effect it:  
Gaspar, thy Counsel.  Gas. 
Sir, your obligations  
Have beamed so freely on me, that my brain  
Is wholly at your service: and this Lady  
May likewise challenge, as her just desert,  
What lies within the verge of my small power.  
My counsel deems it best, that when the Church  
Expects their near approach, in some disguise  
You Roderiguez with some other blades,  
Lay Don Praepontio breathless, and in haste  
Convey your prize, Varina, to some Cottage  
Which lies sequestered from the City's eye:  
There's the best safety, till the Inquisition  
Is out of breath: and smiling fortune offer  
A time, when you may marry her in peace.  Rod. 
Your policy is orthodox, my hand  
Shall ratify it with a bloody seal.  Exeunt.  

Scena secunda.  Enter Praepontio, Alvarado, Rubio. Alu. 
Nephew! you now are entering into th' world,  
Let me advise you, who am well experienced,  
Be not too credulous, trust none without  
A good assurance: try before you trust.  Prae. 
I warrant you, Uncle, your wealth linked with my wit, will make me an unparallelled Gentleman, they will elect me Alcalde Major, next year, or else I say there is no prudence in the graybeards of the City.  Rub. 
Very pathetically spoken, when you are Governor of the City, I hope you will give me a good Office.  Prae. 
Yes! thou shalt have the honourable function of hangman: how lik'st thou it?  Rub. 
Marry Sir, I do not like hanging very well.  Prae. 
Who art thou?  (Enter Taylor) Tay. 
Your worship's Tailor, Sir.  Prae. 
That is to say my worship's thief, alias thief to my worship.  
Are my wife's nuptial Vestments ready?  Tay. 
To the putting on Sir.  Prae. 
Hast thou perfumed the clasps and keepers?  Tay. 
They will take no perfume, Sir.  Prae. 
Hast thou made her petticoat to the behind or before?  Tay. 
On the side, Sir, according to the French Fashion.  Pra. 
Yes! that's best. We Spaniards must now tout ala mode France.  Tay. 
And her gown needs no farthingale Sir.  Prae. 
Well, very well: give your attendance to morrow, and you shall have a quarter of a chicken and a le●man for your dinner.  Rub. 
Afford 6 panvilos, he may chance eat your dishes else.  Prae. 
What's that?  Tay. 
A busque.  Prae. 
Must she wear it behind or before, or between her legs to keep them from interferring!  Tay. 
No! Sir, but on her breast, to hid her great belly.  Prae. 
Are the Fiddlers bespoken? has the shoemakers brought home my embroidered pantofles, I mean to dance in them: bid the Milliner put ambergrease enough on my shirt, I shall stir till I stink else.  Rub. 
Of sweat Sir?  Prae. 
I, what else?  Alu. 
Come, Nephew, you had best go visit her to night.  Prae. 
I'll go before you Sir.  Exeunt.  

Scena Tertia.  Enter Alonzo, Mariana, Gaspar. Alo. 
Come you egregious strumpet  (Drags her, his sword drawn) 
Abstract of impudence! what has my patience  
Made thee presume of my connivency:  
So much vile, Minion, that your wanton lust  
Durst gallop like a posthorse: run at base  
In sin, and fearless meet lasciviousness:  
As if that Saints and men had been as deep  
Involved in sleep, as you in sin: and now  
To see Your lust dance Antics? must my house  
Be made the stews, the sinful receptacle  
Of you and your Adulterers? you could laugh  
At me, contemn my age; Alas! poor man!  
The Gout doth hold him captive in his Couch,  
We need not fear him: I did hear you Mistress,  
And would have entered then, but that I thought  
It more revenge, I held it greater Justice  
To send thy soul (grown filthy) unto hell  
Glutted with pleasures. Come, you'll tell me, Mistress',  
Who 'twas, was with you.  Gas. 
Thus outrageous?  
Fie! Patron! such a passion would befit  
A husband better than a father: Age  
Should furnish you with better temper, Cousin:  
Sweet, wipe thy eyes: in troth 'tis but a trick  
Common to such young folks, to have a servant,  
A friend in private to supply their wants:  
Be not so passionate, you must forgive her.  
Pardon, good Sir.  (Holds him) Alo. 
Stand by, or I shall turn  
My rage on you! Insatiate Strumpet! was not  
The man I destined for your husband, good:  
(Too good for thee) but that thy wanton eyes  
Must choose another? Must the Patrimony  
I thought to leave thee, the estate I purchased  
With such a care become a salary  
To your hot sin: your Bastards shortly will  
Call Grandfather, and look for portions  
Out of my wealth, but I'll prevent it, Minion:  
Speak briefly!  (Mar. knelt down) Ma. 
What? that I have sinned? O Sir!  
Remember I'm your daughter, let that name  
Move you to pity of my fact, which youth,  
Unbridled youth occasioned: though my crime  
May challenge death, as it's desert: your hands  
Ought not to be deaths messengers: it suffices  
That I have sinned, add not to my delict  
By making you a parricide: dear father,  
Forgive me.  Alo. 
No! Thou'st laid a stain upon  
Our houses honour, which thy wanton blood,  
Nought else can wash away.  Ma. 
O! rob not heavens  
Of their prerogatives; let them revenge  
Your quarrel, for my mother's sake, whom oft  
You said my feature represented, spare me:  
For her sake do it.  Alo. 
Nay, for her sake rather  
I must be moved to butcher thee, who fearest not  
So to profane her image, which remains  
Better decipherd in thy perfect essence,  
Then in her monument: thou'dst better have pulled  
Her sacred relics from their Urn, defiled them,  
Cast out her ashes on a dunghill, than  
Committed this, for which her glorious soul  
(If Saints can weep) makes heaven a sea: O Girl!  
Shame! that thou art my issue: I conceited  
If there had aught been good in Nature, than  
Thou hadst been Mistress of it: now I see  
(Grief to my age!) I was too fond: Affection  
Made me adore an Idol: I was cozened:  
There is no trust in mortals.  Gas. 
Pray you, Sir!  
You are too much distempered: faith! her fault  
Is not worth half this anger: take her up,  
Let not the earth pollute those limbs, the pride  
Of Nature's workmanship, you may behold  
In those fair Orbs true penitence, those tears  
Were of sufficient virtue to restore  
A person damned to paradise: forgive her:  
Or you're too cruel, Signior.  Alo. 
Let her then  
Reveal her Partner.  Gas. 
That demands unjust,  
If she should do it, men should fear hereafter  
To preasure women, when they see that threats  
Can force Discoveries: good Sir, ask it not,  
'Tis too unreas'nable.  Ma. 
What said my Father?  Alo. 
Marry, ungracious minion: I would know  
Whom you have chosen for your stallion,  
To glut your never-sated Ork withlust.  Ma. 
Is't me you mean Sir? slack your passion, Sir.—  Gas. 
Conceal him, if you do affect his life.  (Whispers to her) Ma. 
These lips yet tepid with his frequent kisses,  
Before they utter aught to hurt him, shall  
Be closed for ever, rather rot with Cankers.  Gas. 
Noble Virago!  Alo. 
Then resolve to die.  Ma. 
I care not, here's my bosom, rip it up,  
And steal an acute eagle's eye to pry  
Into my hearts small caverns, and explore  
His name, that writ there, yet it will remain  
Hid in some little Concave, that your fury  
Shall never know it: kill me, I shall smile  
On ugly death: embrace her with a soul  
Triumphant as a Martyrs, I will perish  
A thousand times, e'er once I will disclose  
That precious secret.  (Gaspar holds him) Alo. 
Do you brave me? do you?  
Let go my hands.  Gas. 
I must not, will not let you  
Draw mischief on yourself: go in sweet Coz!  
Let me alone with him.  Exit Mariana Alo. 
Stand off: Let go,  
And let me follow her.  Gas. 
For what? your rage  
Shall not have way to do an act: which done,  
You'd wail in tears for ever, should you kill her,  
Think what a crime you onerate your soul which,  
Next, what a scandal would ensue: a man  
Of your known worth at this age to become  
A Parricide on such a daughter, only  
For keeping close her friend: Why should you be  
Inquisitive to know him?  Alo. 
T' have revenge.  Gas. 
Why so I did imagine: banish rage,  
And hear with reasons ears: be sure your daughter  
Has placed her love on some base one, she dares not  
Make privy to your ear, should she disclose him,  
You would, she thinks, have vengeance for her fault:  
Were he a person noble, she would haste  
To tell his name, boast of her choice: how say you?  
Is not this reason?  (Lets go his hands) Alo. 
Very true!  Gas. 
He being  
A man so worthless, it would disgrace you more  
In seeking vengeance, for the humourous world  
Apt to suspect the worse, would judge the Cause  
Of your revenge to be, as 'tis: and so  
You lay your own dishonour, and your daughters,  
Open, which else might sleep unmentioned, none  
But you and I are privy to't, and e'er  
A syllable should pass in your disgrace  
Out of my mouth, I would be dumb.  Alo. 
But Gaspar!  
What shall I do with her? For Balthasar  
Will publish her disgrace, so all will shun  
Her hated Nuptials: I'll go make her enter  
'Mong barefoot Nuns into some Monastery,  
Spend the long remnant of her blooming youth  
In holy prayers and penitence: I'll make  
The poor my heirs, found sacred Hospitals,  
Build Colleges with my revenues.  Gas. 
Madness!  
Religious madness! that's the ready way  
To sell her to damnation: will her spirit,  
(Can you conceive) which now doth pass the limits  
Of Liberty, endure a Cloister? Balthasar?  
Fear not his clamours; wise men will impute  
Them to his passion; 'cause h'as lost her, rather  
Than to her merit: Patron, you may find  
Some younger Brother noble as herself  
To be her husband; Gold will make her seem  
A virgin, though a Mother.  Alo. 
Honest Gaspar!  
I know thou lov'st me.  Gas. 
As I do the bliss  
I hope for.  Alo. 
And, alas! ungrateful I  
Have been too negligent of thy worth, but thou  
Hast inurned all those acts.  Gas. 
'Ts my Duty.  Alo. 
Once  
I promised thee her marriage, and in Justice  
She is thy wife; and sure Astraea's angry  
For th' injury I did thee, and imposeth  
This heavy cross upon me; wilt thou now  
Solemnize with her Hymen's sacred rites?  
Be not dismayed; although her hare-brained youth  
Hath run into an error, rather due  
To heat of blood, than her condition,  
She may be honest.  Gas. 
Honest! I dare swear  
She will be truly virtuous, but the meanness  
Of my poor fortunes makes me worthless, I  
Have a spot in my blood, which would dishonour  
Your family, reserve that, Sir, for one  
Of noble and illustrious Parentage;  
Whose worth and quality may add a title  
Unto your houses fame; for my part, I  
Nourish no such thoughts; all the height my poor  
Ambition soars at, is to be esteemed  
Your humble slave still.  Alo. 
Thou'rt too humble, Gaspar,  
Erect thy Spirit, man, thou hadst a Father  
Had fire in's veins; come, thou shalt marry her;  
I do command you.  Gas. 
Your commands are laws,  
As sacred to me as are Oracles,  
I must not break them.  Alo. 
Thou wilt wed her then?  Gas. 
Since you command it.  Alo. 
Now I see thou lov'st me.  
Call me no more thy Patron, but thy Father.  
I will acquaint my daughter with my will.  Exit. Gas. 
Have I not laboured finely? has my brain  
Not won the Laurel wreath? She is my own,  
And what care I now what the envious world  
Can say of me? They'll call me Cuckold, that's  
In my esteem, as much as they should call  
Me Signior: Let her take her pleasure, she,  
Not I, doth sin: I'm sure she will afford me  
My fill at night too. Happy Age! when all  
Were common, when old Nature's laws were read  
Without a Comment: every man was free  
For every woman: then none feared the stab  
For kissing.  Enter Picarro. Pic. 
Save you Gaspar.  Gas. 
And you too:  
Sir, what's your business?  Pic. 
'Tis not, Sir, with you,  
'Tis with your Master.  Exit. Gas. 
With your Master? Him!  
How scornfully this youth demeans himself?  
 long, when I am married, I shall be  
Sir Don, or any thing.  Enter Alonzo and Picarro. Pic. 
Good Sir, my Father  
Commends him to you, and entreats you would  
For satisfaction of the debt he owes you,  
Accept his land at Cordova in mortgage,  
And pay old Frederiques' debt.  Alo. 
I grieve, Picarro,  
That he should come to this; but 'tis his fate,  
I'll do him any courtesy, return  
This as my answer.  Pic. 
Honoured Sir, I shall.  (is going out.) Alo. 
A handsome man, and an observant son.  
Call back Picarro, Gaspar!  Gas. 
Sir, Picarro.  
My Father doth request you to return.  Alo. 
Signior Picarro, I so much lament  
Your noble Father's case, that will you truly  
Resolve me one thing, I will pay his debts  
Without your mortgage.  Pic. 
'Tshould be difficult  
That I would not do for his liberty.  Alo. 
Are you in love  Pic. 
Not to my knowledge.  Alo. 
Can  
You be content to have a Wife?  Gas. 
Corinna  
Were a fit match for him.  Pic. 
Yes, of your choosing.  Alo. 
've seen my daughter Mariana, what  
Say you to her?  Gas. 
She is contracted, Sir,  
Surely he will not break his promise with me.  Pic. 
Your daughter's worths beyond my hopes.  Alo. 
But say,  
That you should have her, could you her affect?  Gas. 
Sure! sure he jests.  Pic. 
Nothing but heaven and bliss,  
I should desire more than her love.  Alo. 
Picarro;  
I do so much commiserate thy Father,  
And thy own sufferings, that I am resolved  
To give her to thee; and thy land shall be  
Her Jointure.  Gas. 
Do I dream? Ha! ha'! I hope  
I shall not be deluded, Patron, Father,  
What do you mean?  Alo. 
Peace! slave! I'll tell her of it.  Exit. Gas. 
But surely, Patron, you will not deal thus?  
Hark, Sir, you mean to marry her?  Pic. 
I do.  Gas. 
You see this sword?  Pic. 
I, what of that?  Gas. 
Nay nothing.  
It is a pure Toledo blade, it cost  
As it is really worth, twelve Ducats, Sir.  
But if you marry her, you have a woman.  Pic. 
I hope she's no Hermaphrodite.  Gas. 
No, but  
She's something else, a Whore.  Pic. 
Out slave! thou'rt frantic.  Exit. Gas. 
O! that I were but valiant, had but heart  
Great as my wrongs are, or but so much power  
As would suffice to right them; I could pull  
The Crystal Axle that supports the Spheres,  
Down to the earth, that all the world might perish  
Together with myself, since all have sworn  
To be stark villains with me: I'm resolved  
Flectere si nequeo Superos, Acheronta movere.  
To Hell, I'll now address me.  Enter Balthazar. Bal. 
Thou art come.  
Now to thy period, Bastard! 'twas your plot  
To bring me 'mong my enemies, on purpose  
To have me slain, but I have 'scaped to be  
Thy ruin. Say thy Prayers.—  (draws his Sword) Gasp, 
What mean you, Sir?  Bal. 
To kill thee, slave, and so set free the earth  
From bearing such an execrable monster,  
Such an inhuman villain.  Gas. 
As you're noble,  
Lend me a little utterance, till I cloth  
in vocal sounds, a business that concerns  
Your honour nearly.  Bal. 
But be brief, thy breath  
Will blast me else.  Gas. 
You come, you say, to kill me?  
I'm glad that Nature has afforded life  
To such a wretch as I am, till my blood  
May do a person of your worth a pleasure.  Bal. 
And is this all?  Gas. 
Forbear a little, hear me;  
You do suppose it was my plot to bring  
You to your death, I do confess.  Bal. 
What? Speak!  Gas. 
That won with gifts, I did entice you thither  
To your destruction: But, hear me, Sir,  
There's none so vile, but may repent; and since  
Your Fate afforded you a happier lot,  
Then to be slain, forgive me: if the blood  
Of such a miscreant, can aught avail you,  
I'll give it you myself, you shall not slain  
Your noble hands with my poor homicide.  Bal. 
Rare! excellent villain: But methinks those tears.  
And looks, spring out of feigned penitence;  
Disclose the man that hurt me, and I'll pardon  
Thy horrid fact, and raise thee.  Gas. 
Willingly:  
'Twas he must be her husband.  Bal. 
Picarro.  Gas. 
Picarro.  Bal. 
May I believe you? Is this truth?  Gas. 
Else kill me.  Bal. 
Farewell! there's gold.  Gas. 
But stay, if one so vile  
As I may give you counsel?  Bal. 
Any thing  
That tends to his destruction.  Gas. 
Your hot breast  
Thirsts for revenge; let it be noble, he  
Offered you public wrong, let your revenge  
Be public too!  Bal. 
As how?  Gasp. 
As thus, to morrow  
When he returns from's wished-for Nuptials,  
Meet him, and kill him, then escape into  
The Church, 'twill be your Castle and Asylum;  
'Tis brave and safe.  Bal. 
Ingenious Gaspar, think  
He's dead already.  Exit. Gas. 
This hits right, let all  
Perish; I care not, if I rise, who fall.  Exit.  

Scena quarta.  Enter Roderiguez, Chaves, Engenia disguised. Rod. 
'tIs strange, my Father, Sir, should come to hear on't  Cha. 
It was that knavish Boy that did betray us.  Eug. 
Pray, Sir, be pleased to return your answer.  Rod. 
Friend, you may walk, I've nothing to return.  Eug. 
Then without bashful fear, or flatrery,  
You are a noble villain.  Rod. 
How now, Sirrah!  Eug. 
Is not your Father's love to be esteemed  
Before your friends? Does not your natural duty,  
You owe him, stir a fury in your blood  
Against that traitor? Poor Eugenia! she  
Wearies with tears, even grief itself to think  
Of this cursed perjury, and her brother's Spirit,  
Which either doth for fear, or fond affection  
To that ignoble perjurer, permit  
Him breath without revenge; but were it mine,  
As 'tis your case, I would devour him up  
Like some wild Anthropophagus: Let Nature  
Convince you, kill him.  Rod. 
Hold your peace, and walk,  
Be gone, or I—  Eug. 
What darest thou, noble villain!  
Thy Father on his blessing charges thee  
To take revenge; and dost thou only not  
Contemn his will, but keep society  
With his cursed Enemy; mark his curse, Sir,  
Think on his blessings.  Rod. 
Honest friend! the love  
I bear your noble quality assays  
Me to detain still with you, but my duty  
Commands me not t'incur my father's curse.  
I must desert you.  Cham 
Prithee doc, kind Coxcomb!  
I'm glad I'm rid of thee.  Rod. 
Yet  we part,  
Think on my sister's merit, how, her virtues  
Transcend your Mistress qualities; next view  
The peril that you are in; Should it come  
To Balthasar, that you did wound him, death  
Would sure ensue; but for our former love  
Let me entreat you be reclaimed.  Cha: 
Imust not,  
Nor will not, you may:  Rod. 
Sure! I am bewitched,  
To love him, when I offer to relinquish  
His Company; there's something loads my feet  
With lead, I cannot leave him, fellow, go,  
Return this answer to my Father, that  
When I come home, I'll satisfy him, why  
I did not do his pleasure, so be gone—  
Without reply:  Eug. 
Well Sir.  Exit. Enter Catalina. Cat. 
O! Sir Chaves! what shall we do Sir Chaves? my Mistress—  Rod. 
What of his love? are we discovered?  Cat. 
O! worse! she's to be married.  Rod. 
Married?  Cat, 
I marry, married too morrow at Saint Saviour's Church.  Rod. 
Alas! poor man! to whom?  Cat. 
I know not; oh! I know not!  (wrings her hands.) 
Hold him.  (Chaves sinks down.) Rod. 
Good Sir cheer yourself.  Cham 
Some luckless serene blast me, may a damp  
Thick as Thyestes serene blast me, may a damp  
Thick as Thyestes darkness spring from Dis,  
And muffle up the world in endless night;  
That none may see those nuptials, which I'll make  
Fatal as Jasons; tell your faithless Mistress  
In stead of pines, I'll send her tapers, Yew,  
And deadly Cypress to make green her bed,  
Where virgin Laurel and such harmsess boughs  
Dare not approach for fear of blasting; Fiends  
Will be her Bridemaids; surely I was borne  
With all good stars my Opposites. Is't too morrow?  Rod: 
Yes Sir too morrow? pray, why rave you thus?  Cham 
I pray Sir tell me, may we not,  then  
Borrow some toilsome woodnetts, and invite  
The gallant youth o'th' City to go hunt  
In yonder deserts?  Rod. 
Why? what then?  Cham 
To take  
The savage walkers of the wilderness,  
Bulls, Wolves and Tigers, and manure them up  
In yonder spacious Amphitheatre:  
And then set fire on't; till their flaming throats  
Roar, howl, and raise a Clamour, which may rend,  
Like some huge thunderclap the trembling Earth,  
That all,  then, might sink to hell, ha'! is't not  
Brave? let's about it, friend.  Rod. 
Why should you be  
Thus cruel? Sir, your rage transports you.  Cham 
Whither?  
Now I know, maid, when she hath seen her own,  
She'll view my nuptials.  Cat. 
Will you be married too?  Cham 
Married? I'll study to surpass her falsehood,  
Her curious eyes, I make no doubt, have chosen  
A handsome Bridegroom?  Cat. 
Yes! indeed.  Cham 
To let  
Her see how much I scorn her and her beauty,  
I'll wed me to a Creature, in whose looks  
Foulness is truly charactered, whose eyes  
Are poisonous as a Basilicks, and scarce  
Afford their Owner light enough to see  
Her bodies horrid edifice, whose frame  
Is the true substance, which Anatomists  
Aim to decipher in their strange dissections  
Of liveless Mortals; tell her 'tis to death  
I'll wed myself; the grave shall be our bed.  Rod. 
'Tis none of hers, it is her father's fault;  
Study prevention, or you lose her.  Cham 
Did you  
Not, tell me she was to be married?  Rod. 
Yes! but I hope we shall find means to hindered.  (Whisper) Cham 
I'll take your Counsel.  Exeunt.  

Scaena quinta.  Enter Balthasar and Boy with a pistol. Bal. 
BRing th' pistol hither? is it charged?  Boy. 
It is sir:  Exit. Bal. 
Begun, then quickly. Now Picarro breath  
Till 9 a Clock, no longer; hug thy Mistress  
Suck poison form her lips till then, and glory  
That thou bereav'dst me of her.  Enter Eugenia Eug. 
Is your name  Balthasar? 
son to Frederique?  Bal. 
Yes! friend.  Eug. 
I come to tell you, that you have been wronged,  
Sold to destruction.  Bal. 
All the Town knows that,  
Thou needst not come to tell me on't, perchance  
My wounders sent you to explore my secrets;  
Prithee about thy business.  Eug. 
Can that front,  
Those limbs of yours which stile you man, endure  
Such an abuse without revenge? I come  
T'inform who 'twas that hurt you.  Bal. 
Pish! I know them.  Eug. 
And can they live unstigmatized for villains?  
Surely you know them not, they're stranger's here.  Bal. 
Did not Picarro hurt me?  Eug, 
He poor man!  
Is injured to be wedded to a strumpet.  
Chaves, one Chaves wounded you.  Bal. 
What's he?  
What is that Chaves?  Eug. 
A base villain, Sir.  Bal. 
How knowst thou this?  Eug. 
By's own confession, Sir,  
'Tis he that wounded you, and gracious Themis  
Has you decipherd for her instrument  
Of vengeance; Chaves is his name, on forfeit  
Of all the lives I have, I'll make good what  
I told you, and conduct you to the person  
That injured you.  Bal. 
Picarro then is guiltless?  Eug. 
As is myself.  Bal. 
Chaves! well let him walk  
Till I can meet him, then 'tis odds, this Arm  
Shall pay his falsehood; but Picarro must not  
Pass thus, depart not from me, friend.  Exit. Eug. 
No Sir  
Now perjured Chaves is thy Fate at hand,  
And if Eugenia lives, thou shalt not stand.  Exit.  

Scena sexta.  Enter Alvarado. Varina. Praepontio. Alonzo. Rubio. Hebe's. Fiddlers. Prae. 
PLay louder Picroes, that string's made of an Usurer's gut, it sounds like the jyngling of a mony-bag. Fie! on these Gitterns and Treble-base viols, they are not comparable to an Italian barbiton; march on my dear Coloquintida, Uncle, you are not so merry as the solemnity of my presence deserves. March on fiddlers, the furmitee my English Cook promised to make me, will be burnt too else: but what's that Rubio?  Rub. 
O Sir! a piece too rare for vulgar eyes,  
And worthy only your perspicuous judgement:  
An Epithalamium I composed on your wedding, you'll allow my  
Mistress Bride to kiss me for't?  Alu. 
Nephew, it will serve better at home then here.  Var. 
Good Huband! Without Ceremony.  Prae. 
Good Husband? How sweetly her throat utters it? All the Pricksong in St. Saviour's is not like those two words; but lead the way while I support my magnificent Corpse, with my Mistresses fain. Arm through this dark Entry; they say it is haunted with spirits; but if they come, we'll conjure them.  (Going in he is stabbed by Roderiguez and Chaves, who in disguise snatched away Varina privily) 
Oh! The Cramp, the Spavins, the Yellow Janders, the Grincomss, the wambling Trot, or some such Belly vengeance has put my guts out of joint. I tell you, Rubio, untruss my points.  Rub. 
So you may chance contaminate my fingers. Alas! You bleed.  Prae. 
Is my blood red or yellow?  Rub. 
'Tis white, Sir.  Prae. 
Oh! Dismal, dismal! Don Praepontio's guts are too big for his belly.  Alu. 
Alas! My Nephew's wounded! Look about who hurt him?  Rub. 
'S life, here's nothing but the walls, unless they be invisible. Master, you do but dream, you are not wounded.  Prae. 
I am neither Husband, nor Master now, but I must die; I leave my body to be buried; and good Uncle, sweet Wife, and honest Rubio, put a musket, powder and shot into the Coffin with me.  Rub. 
Look how those Rosy cheeks convert to Daisies!  Prae. 
On my blessing do as I bid you, or my furious Ghost will haunt you; for since it was some Spirit of the Buttery; because I loved wine well; or Hobgoblin, because I used to lick the Cream bowls, that has done me this injury to kill me; I will when I come among them be revenged; for sure it is, I must go whisper two or three words with Pluto and his Fraternity; bury me in a Coletta, or Buff jacket, that Rapiers may no more hurt me.  
How rawboned Death's with his black dart  
Ready to pierce my Lion's heart?  Alu. 
Alas! Poor Nephew, he bleeds?  Prae. 
Yet, Uncle, I will spite of his nose bequeath my moveables; First, to my seet Wise Varina I give all my Plate and Jewels; and to my Uncle all that I have in my Closet. viz. Two Holland Cheeses, three pound of Raisins Solis, etc. And to thee my servant Rubio, all that I have in my Pockets, as also the Handkerchief wrought with Coventry blew, and my Needle-case and Thimble, etc. But good Rubio, pup my sneezing box with me into the Tomb, it will clear my eyes.  
Oh! I can speak no more, for now to Heaven doth go  
The Valiant soul of Don Praepontio.  (dyes.) Alo. 
But where's my Niece? Varina! Oh! She's gone;  
This is some cursed plot; let's in, and send  
Coasts to waylay them, e'er they take to Sea,  
Dispatch out Hue and Cries; that may arrest them,  
And bring them back to judgements bar. Hard fate!  
What plagues of grief hang on my aged head,  
And drop their vengeance on my hoary hairs  
In showers of blood? Was't not enough my daughter  
Defamed my Family by her goat-like lust;  
But now my Niece, Varina must conspire  
With Villains to disgrace me? Can her baseness  
No safety find, but by her Husband's blood?  
Rebellious Children! Know a Father's hand  
Provoked, strikes hard; and though I do endure  
Your faults a while, my vengeance shall strike sure.  Exeunt. Heb. 
Oh! My sweet Master. I am undone, I am undone, many an Ash-wednesday and Goodfriday nights supper must my belly make; I was no sooner come from being an under-Scullion to be an under-Cooke; but now I must Crablike crawl backward from being an under-Cooke to be an under-Scullion, or any thing! Oh, miserable! Well, I will go in, and fill my belly now, though I fast the longer afterwards; if fate has decreed that all the fat must be in the fire, it must be so; my belly must pray patience; I fear this next year will be nothing but Ember weeks.  Exit.   

ACT. IU.  

Scaen. 1.  Enter Chaves, Roderiguez, without disguise and swords drawn. Cham 
CUrse on my fate!  Rod. 
Have patience, Sir, we shall  
Remove your grief too; or in streams of blood  
We'll swim to our desires.  Enter Gaspar. Cham 
O! Signior, Gaspar!  
Why had not we your notice of this wedding?  Gas. 
It was so closely carried, that my ears  
Can ne'er be privy to't; what ails my Master?  
Why, Sir, so pensive? Fear not, Sir, my Mistress  
Will love you still; but I do sound you come  
To Butcher her new Bridegroom; Is't not so?  Cham 
Thy augury's most true; these swords but now  
Reaked in the streams of Don Praepontio's blood;  
To help my Friend Rod'riguez to his Love.  Gas. 
In troth the World's well rid of such a fool!  Cham 
And yet are thirsty; we must sail through blood  
To our desired port; tell her I'll drink  
A health unto her in Picarro's gore;  
I once did in obedience to her will,  
Spare it, but 'twas by Fate reserved to be  
Drawn empty now, and this enraged hand  
Shall break the Conduit up; 'twill do me good:  
In expectation here I'll wait, until  
I find and kill him—  Gas. 
No! done't kill him now:  
'tTwere too unholy to profane those rites,  
Besides, he's armed with th'choicest of his friends,  
That should you kill him, 'twere impossible  
You should escape the aestrum of their fury,  
Patience awhile, bridle your wrath, I'll plot  
To do't more easy: Pray be pleased.  Cham 
Thou were't  
Hatched in a Pigeons nest, thou art so timorous  
Tell us of murder, not of safety, rather  
Let's study to create new ways to kill  
Though to destroy the world; and so to be  
Earth's common Executioners; then that  
He should enjoy and crop those blessed Roses.  Gasp. 
What if he do? he has but what you left,  
he'll prick his Fingers ere he pluck that rose;  
Before to morrow night his Glass is run.  
Pray, Sir, with draw, be sure on't.  Rod. 
Good Sir, do.  Cham 
Your counsel shall prevail.  Exeunt. Gas. 
So let them go, had this fresh Gamester entered  
And killed Picarro; and her Father known  
'twas he enjoyed her, he would have procured  
A pardon for him, and have given him her,  
So I'd been cozened, but I'm rid of all:  
Balthasar kills Picarro, than himself  
Suffers; Praepontios killed by Chaves, whom  
The Law for that fact straight shall apprehend,  
And soon condemn as guilty; so not one  
Is left to be an obstacle.  Enter Boy. Boy. 
Sir, my Master bids you not expect him, he'll not come.  Exit. Gas. 
He will not come? how now? He call them back:  
Oh! that I were but registered the first  
In Coxcombs catalogue, to place my hopes  
On One, when others offered to effect them.  
Villains had need to see with Argus eyes,  
They'll be most fools else, when they seem most wise.  Exit.  

Scena secunda.  Enter Mariana and Catalina. Cat. 
FAith! Mistress do not grieve so, you do wrong  
The beauty of your face; should your new husband  
See this, he'd grow suspicious; dry your eyes  
For shame, 'tis a sin to weep in wedding shoes.  Ma. 
Denude me of these gaudy garments, get  
Funestal vestments for my new attire:  
Lend me a book to pray on, and entreat  
The Priest that married me; to come again;  
I'd speak with him.  Cat. 
Still in this moestfull tune;  
You will not die I'm sure?  Ma. 
Pray, keep those flowers  
To straw my Coffin with, and tell the Virgins  
That came to grace my nuptials, I invite  
Them to my Obsequies.  Cat. 
Bless me! Mistress, better  
Chaves were hanged, than you should kill yourself  
For him, your husband is a proper man,  
And for Sir Chaves, you may have him too,  
Die, quoth you, faith! that were a trick indeed;  
Be merry, Mistress, come, you shall; this is  
Your wedding day.  Ma: 
My day of burial call it;  
For so it will be, I have lost the May,  
The flower of Brides, my Virgin glory, and  
I know, my husband hearing what has passed  
Twixt Balthasar and me, will be most curious  
In searching; when as needs he must, he finds  
Me for a Virgin thrust on him, to be  
Not so, he'll kill me.  Cat. 
Is this all your fear?  
Mercury water, or some Cypress berries  
Will cousin th'cunning'sst searcher of them all.  Ma. 
I must not trust it. Catalina, thou  
Hast always loved me!  Cat. 
Yes truly, Mistress.  Ma. 
Thou wouldst be loath to see me murdered?  Cat. 
Bless you, good Mistress!  Ma. 
Thou art fair and young—  Cat. 
Faith, reasonable; I've seen many a worse  
Face in a Lady's habit, I'll assure you.  Ma. 
And I dare say a Virgin—  Cat. 
Yes, in truth,  
The more's my grief.  Ma. 
Wilt thou supply my room?  
And be the Bride to my new husband?  Cat. 
I  
Would not, forsooth, lose my Virginity.  Ma: 
Come, be not squeamish, when he is in bed  
And th'Candle's out, then I'll frame an excuse  
To rise, and thou shalt come into my place;  
And after he's asleep, I'll come again.  Cat. 
For your sake, Mistress, I will do't, and get  
A drug to make him sleep.  Mar. 
Do, prithee do.  
'Tis late, about it.  Exit Catalina. Enter Alonzo, Alvarez, Picarro. Alo. 
Son! you're beholding to the youth o'th' City,  
In the solemnity of these your Nuptials,  
They have procured a Masque, they stand without.  Enter Masque. Balthazar sings, 


I.  
False and foolish are the toys  
Of Worldly joys,  
The Paphian Goddess only rules  
Frantastick Fools:  
Then why should I (simplicity!)  
Thus  upon her Deity.   Rursus: 

2.  
Woman is light as a feather,  
Or the Wether:  
More inconstant than the wind  
Is her base mind:  
Fickle still, can only be  
Constant in inconstancy.   Rursus. 

3.  
The rose which plucked I have refused,  
Another choosed:  
Mars did hug Venus, Sir, yet she  
Can satisfy  
Black Mulciber. Your wife doth know  
To draw Actaeon on your brow,  
And make your Cornucopia be  
Triumphant to Eternity.  
Dance.    Pic. 
This is a strange Epithalamium?  Alo. 
'Tis a strange Song! and a far stranger dance!  Alu. 
'Tis rare and new! it carries mystery with it.  Pic. 
Who is the chief to whom we own our thanks?  (Balthazar discovers himself.) Bal. 
'Tis I, Picarro! Sir, 'tis I, your Mistress  
Knows me, I did provide this Masque on purpose  
That you might know, how you are injured.  Pic. 
Explain your Riddle, be our Oedipus,  
W' are yet in darkness.  Bal. 
Thus, Sir, That old man  
That led the woman, represents Deceit,  
And she his daughter Lust; the next pair, he  
On the right hand is Treachery, who lead  
In me deciphering True Affection:  
And the last couple which came after us,  
The first of them is Wantonness, who pulls.  
Lust from me, and doth give her to that person  
Who signifies a Cuckold and a Fool.  
You understand me!  Pic. 
'tis a Paradox.  Bal. 
Then know, your wife's a hateful prostitute,  
Her Father is a Villain, you a Cuckold.  
I'll say no more.  Pic. 
've said enough already  
To seal you to damnation.  (Draw) Ma. 
O Sir, stay,  
Give Losers leave to speak: his fury moves him  
To be thus passionate.  Pic. 
But that I will not  
Slain with your blood my Nuptials, you should know  
How false your tale is: but there's other times  
To meet with you.  Bal. 
I shall be ready when  
You please to call me.  Exit Masque. Alu. 
It is strange me thinks  
That Balthasar should be so spiteful, Brother:  
This must not pass thus.  Pic. 
No! I shall hereafter  
Have vengeance.  Ma. 
He deserves ten thousand deaths  
For such a wrong.  Alo. 
What muse you on, Sir; Ha!  Pic. 
Balthazar, Sir, has always been a man  
Of good esteem, I marvel he should raise  
Without occasion, such a calumny.  (Mariana swoons) Alo. 
O! help my daughter!  Alu. 
Hold her, else she falls!  Pic. 
heavens shower down Balm to cure her, or let lose  
Some blasting lightning, that may sear me up  
Till I convert to ashes: see, her breath  
In little streaks flies from her, to make sweet  
Death with its precious flavour; send for hither  
Those curious men that strive to give new life  
To Carcases, those that do spend their studies  
In Image-making; let them here receive  
A perfect pattern, afterwards to cut  
All women's Marbles by.  Alo. 
There's life! there's life!  Pic. 
She beautifies uncomely death! Might she  
Remain thus uncorrupted, she would make  
A Statue passing all the Alabasters  
We can erect, in memory of her name.  Ma. 
Oh! Oh!  Pic. 
That breaks her heartstrings! Blessed Saint!  
Fly not so fast, sweet soul; I'll rob the Turtle  
Of his swift wings, but I'll o'ertake thee, that  
In thy society I may mount to yonder  
Celestial region, for thy sake they will not  
Deny admission; the Saints are rimerous  
To lose their mansions; for her merit asks  
A Crown above a Martyrs.  Alo. 
Son!  Pic. 
Behold!  
Her spotless soul attired in white, ascends  
In a clear Chariot, drawn by virgins: straight  
I come, stand off.  He offers to make unready) Alu. 
She will recover:  Pic. 
Yes!  
When she's among her fellow-Angels, than  
She may recover life, a glorious essence  
Due to her goodness; Earth was too unworthy  
To bear so rare a jewel, fit fare  
For heavens rich wearing; yet you have done well  
A while to stay me, while I steal a blessing  
From those pure lips; though they are cold, one kiss  
From them will glut me; which delight hath equal  
To that she's gone to.  (he kisses her) Alo. 
Her eyes open.  Pic. 
Look,  
The Torches fade at such a brightness, surely  
In this short trance sh'as lost that little remnant  
She had of human essence; and 's become  
Wholly immortal, and deserves our knees.  (he knelt) 
Why gaze you on me? is't not just? A saint  
Merits this honour.  Ma. 
You all hate me; why  
Did you recall my spirits from the bliss  
They almost had attained to?  Pic. 
I'll support thee,  
And if thou fallest, my arm shall keep the earth  
From touching thee; 'twill grow too proud to bear  
So rich a burden.  Ma. 
O Picarro! I  
Had thought you'd had a better faith in me,  
Then to grow jealous at the false report  
Of a base man; I will not live to have you  
Deem so ignobly of me.  Pic. 
Were this breast  
Armed with th'obdurate shells of Tortoises;  
Or maled with s●●les of Dolphins, I would force  
A passage into't, that you might behold  
Each thought that's there, if any one but savour  
Of jealousy, then utterly detest me;  
But I will make this slave an expiation,  
A very Anathema for this injury  
Which he hath with such impudence averred  
Against thy honour.  (Enter Catalina with bottles and glasses.) Ma. 
I believe you, Sir.  
Fill me a bowl of water, I'll begin  
Your Nuptial health.  Pic. 
Let it be wine I'll drink't.  
Were't liquid metal.  Mar. 
Father-in-law, to you.  Alu. 
Brother, to you.  Alo. 
Son, to you; and may she  
Be made a mother by you.  Ma. 
Catalina.  (Whispers. Cat. 
I've done.  Pic. 
Come! Fill it till it overflow,  
Or bring a bigger glass.  Ma. 
'Tis needless, Sir.  Pic. 
He that denies to pledgeed, I'll flit his weazand.  Alu. 
Alonzo, it grows late, 'tis time the Bride  
Had put the Torches out; we'll see her bedded.  Pic. 
I do prefer the pleasures of this night  
Before all treasures, or the earth's delight.  Exeunt.  

Scaena tertia.  Enter Chaves, Roderiguez, Gaspar, with a Torch. Cham 
Is't possible he should be gone so soon  
To bed? 'Tis yet scarce ten a clock.  Rod. 
O Gaspar!  
Lend me thy Torch, by heavens me thinks 'twere easy  
To set the House on fire, and burn the villain  
In her embraces.  Gas. 
So you'd burn her too!  Cham 
Faith! not much matter, since I left her, all  
My Ice is turned to Marble, could I not  
Borrow yond star for one half hour, and cast it  
Like to a ball of wildfire through yond hole,  
To make the chamber hotter? Were't not pretty  
If from the top of yonder Pyramid  
I could embrace the Moon, and pull her from  
Her watery spheres, to sing their plumes? Say friend,  
May I not do it?  Rod. 
What strange temper's this?  
His mind runs on the Moon, What? Lunatic?  Cham 
Look where the deathful Owl flies: Hark, her wings  
Flask in the air, t'invite the Daws that nest  
In yond tall steeple to deride me: is there  
No heat in nature left? Am I converted  
So soon to water? Yet my eyes are dry.  
They cannot weep a flood, sufficient  
For a new general Deluge: Look! I quake  
Like to a frosty Polander, when wrapped  
In Iron sheets, he lays him down a man,  
O'er night in th'Field, and in the morning rises  
A Cake of Ice, or Snowball. Is't not cold?  
My limbs do play on th'Organs.  Gas. 
'Tis your fancy:  
You're passionately mad.  Cham 
I do not walk yet—  
Bare, with a long Horn armed, nor kiss the dust  
With naked feet; but I will learn, these garments  
Are very ponderous: when I've rend them off,  
I shall begin to be a Bedlam.  Rod. 
Gaspar,  
Prithee persuade him.  Gas. 
Sir, you do conceit  
Because your project missed to night, your love  
Is lost for ever; do not so, to morrow  
We'll have a night as opportune as this,  
To kill her husband.  Cham 
Yes, if he would die,  
When we do wish him dead, or could our eyes  
Kill him, and never look upon him; so  
I do believe he might be slain, but else—  Gas. 
Hear me a little, if I do not show  
A way to kill him—  Cham 
That's an easy thing:  
Level a Canon at him, blow him up  
With Gunpowder.  Gas. 
But hear me, Sir, to morrow  
You and your friend, with others I'll procure,  
In strange disguises shall present yourselves  
There in a Masque; I'll tell you are my friends,  
And in the Dance one of the men I'll hire  
Shall kill him; you shall not be touched in this.  
How like you't, Sir, is't not a good conceit?  Cham 
Good, very good, could my deeds but effect  
What you have spoken— but I fear he has  
Some charms about him, steel nor poison will  
Enter his body: so 'tis impossible;  
That what you here advise can e'er be done.  Gas. 
Yes! fear not, Sir, I'll visit you to morrow.  Cham 
Do, and forget not what you promise now.  Rod. 
His care and vigilance is far beyond  
Our thoughts.  Cham 
Then let him glut himself to night.  Gas. 
It surely, Sir, shall be his last good night:  
Men may shun public, but not private spite:  Exeunt.  

Scena Quarta.  Enter Mariana, Catalina. Ma. 
Come! thou'rt a wily strumpet; faith! thou didst  
Excellent well! but not one word: I'll go  
And dress me;—  Exit. Enter Picarro. Pic. 
Sure I have drunk the blood of scorpions,  
Sucked mandrakes juice or henbane seed, my heart  
Is almost hurnt to ashes: Catalina,  
Fetch me some water.  Cat. 
Here's some ready Sir.  Pic. 
Give me another cup, I hate that bowl:  
'Twas that I drank last night in: was't not you  
Filled me the wine?  Cat. 
It was.  Pic. 
Was nothing in't?  Cat. 
Nothing, but wine and sugar, Sir.  Pic. 
What's this?  Cat. 
Some of the sugar spilt on th' side of th' cup:  
I'll wipe it off.  Pic. 
Stay, is this sugar, minion?  
I've found you out, you're hired to poison me:  
This is a drug, speak quickly, say by whom  
Or perish.  Cat. 
O good Sir! if I had thought  
I should have had no better a requital,  
I'd not have been so kind.  Pic. 
So kind? as how?  
Be brief, or this shall spoil your utterance.  Cat. 
A Maidenhead deserves more favour, Sir.  Pic. 
Impudent devil! who'd to do with that?  Cat. 
Last night you had it, Sir.  Pic. 
Die, Monster!  (goes to kill her) Cat. 
Hold, Sir, for heavens sake! I confess, my Mistress—  Pic. 
What of my Love?  Cat. 
To say truth, Sir, she hired me  
To give ye a sleepy potion, having lost  
The blossom of her honour, she procured  
Me to supply her place, and laid me by you.  Pic. 
But is this truth? ha'! whore!  (Pulls out Mariana) 
Egregious strumpet, was it not sufficient  
To make me be the pack horse of thy lust;  
The common father to thy odious fry:  
The loathsome compound of laciviousness  
Thou hast within thee? but thou must betray  
My chaste embraces to the sinful arms  
Of a foul harlot, on that sacred night  
When I was full with hopes of the reward  
Of my true love: ask mercy quickly; pray,  
For I will kill thee.  Ma. 
Holy Angels guard me!  
What mean you dear Picarro? heavens and Saints  
Help, as I'm guiltless.  Pic. 
Guiltless? so's the Devil;  
A plague upon this cursed effeminate sex!  
Would curses wound as doth the Mandrake's groan,  
I would invent as bitter searching terms,  
As cursed, as harsh, as horrible to hear  
As lean-faced envy in her loathsome Cave;  
My tongue should stumble in my earnest words,  
My eyes should sparkle like the beaten flint,  
My hair be fixed an end, as one distract,  
Yea, every joint should seem to curse and ban;  
Oh! I could thunder out a Volley of Curses,  
A rhapsody of baneful execrations!  (He turns aside) Ma. 
What? dost thou turn away, and hid thy face;  
I am no loathsome Leper, look on me;  
What? art thou like the Adder waxed deaf?  
Be poisonous too, and kill thy forlorn spouse.  Pic. 
Thou hast a place about thee, where the furies  
Take up their mansion; I do know, thy eyes  
Can with false tears outvie the Crocodile:  
Thy tongue can altercate more several notes,  
Then the Hyaena's, and can sweetly charm  
As doth a Siren, warble forth as sweet  
Notes as a Philomela: 'tis bootless now  
To seek to palliate thy Crimes, thy partner  
Revealed it all: repent, and do it quickly:  
Or 〈…〉 damned, I care not.  Ma. 
Must I die?  Pic. 
〈◊〉 ●ould, though Queens upon their knees in tears  
〈…〉 pardon, Saints implore thy life,  
〈…〉 not save it: canst thou nourish hopes  
Of aught but death, when thy inhuman Acts  
Tell thee thou hast deserved to suffer for them  
More than eternal tortures?  Ma. 
O Picarro!  
Remember what I am, not what I have been,  
I'm now your wife; Sir, if I have been tempted  
To that Venerean sin: 'twas e'er religion  
Had made me yours: you were not injured by it,  
And though for fear of being discovered, I  
Did thrust this hapless maid into your bed,  
Though't be a fault, that well might merit death,  
Damn me not for it: give me leave to make  
My peace with Heaven, and then I'll yield to die:  
Thank you to kill me.  Pic. 
If I let her talk  
A little longer, she'll persuade me: come,  
Hold up your hands for mercy, make short prayers,  
And this shall say Amen unto them, pray—  (Holds up his Sword) Ma. 
Since your stern rage will not permit you hear  
A word of mercy: for your own sake do not  
Draw double vengeance on yourself: poor Girl,  
'Twas I that caused her sin: a twofold murder  
Will lie too heavy on you.  Pic. 
Sure my hand  
Has got the Palsy: yet before thou diest,  
Discharge thy conscience of one crime: thy soul  
Will be the lighter: tell me this, what Fiend?  
What Devil in humane shape? for man would never  
Have tempted thee to sin, 'twas that betrayed,  
Thee to his Lust?  Ma. 
I'm sure 've heard my Father  
Contracted me to Balthasar.  Pic. 
What then?  Ma. 
Thinking that he should have been married to me,  
I let him have my honour, little dreaming  
Of what has happened since: remember once  
I saved your life, for that good turn afford  
A little Leisure.  Pic. 
Mariana, since  
Thou art dishonest, 'tis impossible  
Virtue should rest in women: sure some Saint  
Of your deceitful sex has fled to Heaven  
With all your women-vertues: otherwise  
thou'dst had a share in't.  (Offers to strike) Ma. 
 you strike, one word  
 I be silent ever: there must come  
A day, when you must die too, when your faults  
Must be ripped up, as mine are now: and than  
You'll find it written in your Conscience-book,  
As first and greatest of your sins, that you  
Not only were a parricide, but that  
You damned a soul too, which will be required  
Of your poor Ghost: then that will quake to see  
Me wrapped in flames, when it remembers how  
Your anger caused it: rather shut us up  
Poor Recluses in some strict Monastery,  
Where we may weep, till in our tears we swim  
To mercy, with our prayers beg heavens to shower  
Their blessings on you.  Pic. 
I will have a Cave,  
A darksome Spelunk in some Wilderness,  
Where never grass grew, where the baleful tops  
Of Yew and Cypress banish Titan's light,  
Where never harmless bird nor beast doth live  
For the foul Airs infection, where the howls  
Of wolves and goats (such as yourselves are) shall  
Joined with the screech owls and the ravens notes  
Make but harsh Music to you, all that's there  
Shall be an Emblem of that Stygian Grove  
You both deserve to enter.  Mar. 
Ought but death  
So ne'er so horrid.  Enter Gaspar. Gas. 
How now? is the wind  
In this door? what? is she discovered?  Pic. 
Fly hence, who e'er thou art, if thou wilt save  
Thy soul from spilling, but yet stay, thou art  
(If any good be on the earth) an honest  
Plaindealing man, thou told'st me that, which now  
I find too true: but I rejected thee,  
Now to my woe I rue it.  Gas. 
'Las! Sir! I  (Aside with Picarro) 
Was grieved to see a man of your true worth  
So basely cozened, to be cast away  
On such a Mammet: why? that very hour,  
That luckless hour you came here, I had found  
Her whoredom out: she was but thrust on you,  
When all refused her: Me (poor man!) her Father  
Tempted with gold, did vow her, and when I,  
(Because I known she was a whore) rejected  
His urged proffer: he resolved to veil her  
A Nun, but that your coming did prevent it:  
To your undoing,  Pic. 
Known her father then,  
That she was false?  Gas. 
Known he? it was his plot—  
'Gainst my persuasions (heavens they know) to wrong  
Your noble self, and I for love to virtue  
Would then have told you, what you know not, but  
You deemed me frantic: I could weep an Ocean  
To think how you, Sir, are by them deluded,  
But 'twas your fortune, 'tis past help.  Pic. 
I prithee  
Go to the sacred Church, and bid the Sexton  
Evacuate the vaults and monuments  
Of the old bones that many years have kept  
Their rotten habitation there; and bid him  
Make the Churchyard one sepulchre: I'll bring  
Bodies enough to fill them; not the plague  
Shall be more pestilent, than my vengeance.  Gas. 
Sir,  
've found me true to you, and since my Master  
Can be ignoble, Justice and the zeal  
I owe to goodness, urges me to aid  
You in revenge: Let it be thus.  Pic. 
As how?  Gas. 
I came to you now to crave licence, that  
At night I might have brought a mask to grace  
Your Festival: Let it go on, I'll hire  
Men in the Masque to kill her, force her Father  
That he may see his error.  Pic. 
Kill him too.  Gas. 
I, Sir, what else!  Pic. 
'Twas Balthasar she served.  
What time of day is't Gaspar?  Gas. 
Early yet,  
Near seven a clock.  Pic. 
My business calls away;  
You will not fail at night.  Gas. 
Questioned no more.  Pic. 
Mean time be sure that none, good Gaspar, speak  
With these base strumpets, let none have access.  Exit. Gas. 
No! not the wind, Cousin, poor Cousin, had you  
Not better have had me then these rude Ruffions?  
There s no way now but death.  Ma. 
O! Cousin, yet  
When I behold thee, I can fear no peril:  
I know thou'lt save me.  Gas. 
IT may be so, but what  
Would you do for him, that should save you?  Ma. 
Any thing.  Gas. 
Though many that receive such injuries  
As I have done, would be more prone to vengeance,  
Then mercy: yet if you will love me, Cousin,  
I'll save your life, and kill this same Picarro.  Mar. 
Do it, and by this hand I'll marry thee.  Gas. 
By this same kiss I will, before your maid!  Gas. 
I, Gaspar, save our lives, and marry us both.  Gas. 
Keep close your Conclave, stir not out, I'll plot  
A means to save you: th' plot is in my brain.  Exit. Ma. 
We are alive yet, Catalina, Women  
May sometimes overreach the archest villains:  
Gaspar, I'll fit you: you may chance expire  
Before us: Scorched men use to shun the fire.  Exeunt.   

ACT 5.  

SCENE 1.  Enter Roderiguez and Priest. Pri. 
SO smile the heavens upon this holy Act,  
That future hours with sorrow chides us not:  Rod. 
Amen! Amen! but come what sorrow can,  
It cannot countervail the exchange of Joy,  
Do then but close our hands with sacred words:  
Then Love-devouring death do what he dare:  
It is enough, that I but call her mine.  Pri. 
These violent delights have violent ends:  
And in their triumph die like fire and powder,  
Which, as they kiss, consume: the sweetest honey  
Is loathsome in its own deliciousness,  
And in the taste, confounds the appetite:  
Therefore love moderately, long love doth so,  
Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.  Enter Varina. 
Is this the Lady? Oh! so light a foot  
Will ne'er wear out the flint, or bruise the street,  
A Lover may bestride the Gossameres,  
That idle in the wanton Summer-air:  
And yet not fall: so light is vanity.  Var. 
Good even to my Ghostly Father!  Pri. 
Daughter,  
Thy spouse shall give thee thanks here for us both.  Var. 
As much to him, else is his thanks too much.  Rod. 
Varina, if the measure of thy joy  
Be heaped like mine, and that thy skill be more  
To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath  
This neighbour Aire, and let rich Music's tongue  
Unfold th' imagined happiness, that both  
Receive in either by this dear encounter.  (Kisses her) Var. 
Conceit more rich in matter, then in words  
Brags of his substance, not of Ornament,  
They are but beggars that can count their worth:  
But my true Love is grown to such excess,  
I cannot sum the sum of half my wealth.  Pri. 
Come! come with me, and holy rites shall give  
A fiat to your Love: I'll join those hands  
(As you have done your hearts) in Hymen's bands.  Exeunt.  

Scena Secunda.  Enter Eugenia, Balthasar. Eug. 
This is his lodging, I believe, he's scarce  
Out of his bed yet: walk, Sir, down the lane,  
While I go in, and train him out: but then  
Be sure you do dispatch him: lest he wound you,  
And grown enraged with some petty scratch  
Shred your subdued Carcase into mammocks:  
You know his voice? I'll go.  Exit. Bal. 
Be expedite.  Enter Picarro, drawn. Pic. 
This way he went, they told me: Well o'ertaken:  
Were you at prayers, or at confession lately?  Bal. 
Why Sir, I hope you are no Priest, Picarro?  Pic. 
I must be yours, I come to shred your corpse:  
And send it minced to Pluto's baleful table:  Bal. 
You're welcome, Sir, but say, I play the Butcher,  (Draw) 
Strike you down first, and ripping up your offal,  
Should throw them to Diana's yelping troops?  
I know your quarrel.  (Picarro runs at him, Balth. falls) Pic. 
Gramercy hand! I've played the Butcher now:  
And felled the Beast: procumbit humi bos!  
While thou hast sense left, cry for mercy, think,  
Think what a horrid, sacrilegious sin  
Thou hast committed: doth not thy soul tell thee  
(Now when thy faults appear) that thou art damned?  
Without redemption?  Bal. 
I hope not, as yet  
Can't I remember what I've injured you in:  
That you should take my life; my last night's act  
Was nought but truth.  Pic. 
I know that, but 'twas thou  
That hadst her honour, that bereav'dst her of  
Her virgin purity: and when thou sheddest  
For all thy Crimes one drop, for this weep seas:  
They'll scarce wash white thy spotted soul again.  Bal. 
Did Mariana tell you this?  Pic. 
Thy conscience  
Tells thee that this is truth.  Bal. 
It is not truth.  
Trust me now dying, she's as chaste, as she  
Was born for me, it is one Chaves, that  
I did stand here to kill; he whored her: O!  (dyes) Pic. 
Some Angel keep thy soul in, till, thy tongue  
Reveal that villain, Chaves? he's a stranger,  
I know him not: you'll glory, faithless Mistress!  
That you have made me kill your enemy:  
My friend, that stood to right me: but that Chaves,  
I'll find him out, though he were hid in mists,  
And quartered in the Clouds, my searching eye  
Shall make a quick discovery, and enrol  
Him in the list of my engaged foes;  
But in this labyrinth I'll have a Clue  
To guide my steps unto his final fall.  Enter Catalina as a Mistress Disguised. Mariana as a Servant. Disguised. 
Some friendly whirlwind hurl me hence with speed,  
Into some desert wilderness, which woman  
Yet ne'er polluted with her steps;— they fly me:  
Good creatures, stay! forgive me: sure this tongue  
Has injured you: good? (can that adjunct be  
Fit for a woman): if you know yourselves  
Bankrupt of female vices, to be heirs  
Of your lost sex's goodness: pray, you tell me,  
And I'll adore you with that reverence,  
I would do Saints, be proud to say hereafter,  
I met two virtuous women.  Cat. 
Surely Sir,  
You have received some monstrous injury  
From woman; makes you out of charity  
With all that sex; yet be not so, your mother  
Was but a woman.  Pic. 
Very true, you seem  
Endued with sense; had you but known the wrong  
I have received from one, that should have been  
More honest: you will then, I know, confess,  
I speak not without cause.  Cat. 
You're married, Sir?  Pic. 
Yes!  Cat. 
And it is your wife has injured you?  
But tell me, did you love her?  Picinino, 
Just as 've seen the Ivy cleave to th' Oak,  
Or hony-bearing Woodbine to the Thorns,  
So dear she was to me.  Cat. 
And can that fact,  
How foul soever, change that love into  
So dire a hatred? Look but on the King  
Of beasts, the Lion, when his Lioness  
Sins with the Leopard; though he storm, yet when  
Sh'as washed herself, he straight forgets it: sure  
Your wife has washed her spotted soul in tears  
For her delict, take pity on her: I,  
Although a stranger, must persuade you.  Pic. 
Sooner  
To set the world on fire, then to forget  
Her faults.  Cat. 
I knew a damosel once, both young  
And beauteous, that offended, she was wed,  
And e'er her Nuptials had been false.  Pic. 
My wife:  
Sureed was my wife.  Cat. 
Nay, more: to cloak her fault  
She got another to supply her room  
On th' wedding night.  Pic. 
You know our story: sureed  
Can be none else but she.  Cat. 
And yet her husband,  
Pitying her youth, did pardon her.  Pic. 
A man,  
Moulded of patience, or of baseness, but  
What did she then?  Cat. 
Why? He immured her up  
In an observant Nunnery, to pay  
The tribute of her sin with Penitence;  
And she's a convert now: do so, when next  
You see your wife, take that good course, and do not  
Damn her and yourself too!  Pic. 
Alas! My wife  
Committed more than this, for when her throat  
Was underneath my sword; she feared not then  
To irritate heavens vengeance with a lie,  
A wondrous lie, you see yond Gentleman.  Cat. 
Yes, what of him?  Pic. 
That injured man, she told me  
Was he, that had enjoyed her, made me kill him,  
And yet heavens justice, gave his dying lips  
Leave to reveal her partner.  Cat. 
Know you him?  Pic. 
His name is Chaves!  Cat. 
Chaves?  Pic. 
Judge you Mistress:  
Merits she not a Chiliad of deaths?  Mar. 
Her own tongue, Sir, shall be her judge; she does.  (discovers) Pic. 
What's Pluto's gates blown , and Cerberus gone?  
How came these Harpies?  Mar. 
I have run, Picarro,  
A weary race in sin, and the last post  
Being almost mine, I falter; I have stolen  
Forth of my Chamber, with intent to leave  
Your loathed sight for ever: to have fled  
With my loved Chaves hence; but that your words,  
Thought of my sin, the fear of Dis and vengeance  
Has made a convert of me; kill me now:  
I die repentant.  Pic. 
Since thou ask'st thy death,  
I will not be so cruel, thou shalt live  
To be my pities Trophy: could I pardon  
Thy fault, would you be honest?  Mar. 
O, Sir, do not  
Make a poor contrite, now more miserable,  
My life's to me grown odious: Sir, your thoughts  
Run on my slaughter, but my mind's on Heaven:  
Aver it not, one word of life may hinder  
My resolution: you have seen the palm  
(That sweet date-bearing tree) hang down its head  
(As't were to beg an Axe) toward the Earth,  
To cut it up, when void of fruit and moisture  
It seems a scorn unto its neighbour trees:  
Of me 'tis a true Emblem, I have lost  
My fruit of Virtue, am become the shame  
Of womanhood: do justice, rid the Earth  
Of such an impious burden.  Pic. 
Wretched soul!  
Thou shalt not die.  Mar. 
I do desire it.  Pic. 
Come!  
Take up your vail, and follow me.  Mar. 
To death.  Pic. 
Yes! Mariana, die upon his Course  (brings her to Balthasar:) 
Thou mad'st me murder.  (stabs her.) Mar. 
One stab more: so now  
Methinks I'm well, lend we your prayers, and shed  
A tear for me, Picarro!  Pic. 
Yes! I'll help  
T'imbalm thy Corpse with my salt drops: but now  
Since thou art dying, for the love I bore thee  
While I did think thee virtuous: discharge  
Thy soul of such a Ponderous crime, reveal  
That Chaves to me.  Mar. 
No, I must not, Jove  
Will be incensed against me more in peace  
With all I'll yield this little puff of breath;  
This flash of air, my life, to th' hands of death:  
Him I forgive that most hath wronged you, yet  
That you shall know, you are beholding to him;  
'Tis he that saved your life at my request:  
My blood converts to jelly, I am cold  
As Mrable-dew within: my minute comes,  
Close my poor eyes, Picarro, say I die  
A penitent, that's all. Oh!  (gins to die) Pic. 
Receive her, Saints,  
To your society: how sweet she looks?  
She's yet alive.  Cat. 
O no! Her breath is gone  (weeps) Pic. 
Surely she is, it cannot be such beauty  
Should rest in a cold Carcase: I could wish  
It were undone; or that my hand had been  
Blasted, e'er it had struck her: hadst thou carried  
Virtue in this fair mansion, thou hadst made me  
Too happy!—  (Offers to kill Catalina.) Cat. 
Sir, you will not kill me too?  Pic. 
No! I have done enough, yet more blood must  
Fellow: help, take her off the sordid Earth,  
Too good to bear her, and then bear her in:  
Be private as the night is.  Exit. Cat. 
I will, Sir.  Mar. 
So, is he gone? This Catalina I  
Have done to purchase my enfranchisement:  
Infuse some balsam to my bleeding wounds,  
Distilled by some divine Paeonian hand:  
And now, Picarro, will I seek thy death,  
And unto Chaves plot a quick escape:  
Then to the Church or Chapel we will hit  
To make complete our wished felicity.  Exeunt.  

Scena Tertia.  Enter Eugenia: Chaves. Eug. 
A little further, Sir, I left him: Master,  
Here's Signior Chaves. heavens protect me, see  
My Master's slain.  Cham 
By whom?  Eug. 
I know not, Sir:  
I'm by this reason destitute of means  
To help me, here a stranger: please you, Sir,  
To grace me with employment: I should study  
To do you faithful service.  Cham 
Friend, I care no,  
And if I do.  Enter Roderiguez. Rod: 
Sir, I am now arrived  
At my long wished for port of bliss and wealth;  
The holy rites are done; she is my own;  
It is the greatest now of my misfortune,  
That yours laggs still behind.  Cha: 
Our love returns  
Thanks to your wish: heavens crown your love with joy;  
Long live in peace and bliss; and may your issue  
Puzzle Arithmetic to number them;  
Accept my thoughts, good friend, they're good, though they  
Tumble from my distracted brain; if aught  
Can add unto thy happiness, but wish it,  
And my affection shall cry Amen!  Rod. 
Your love commands my duty to return  
Whole Floods of thanks; your wish is so complete  
IT needs no addition. Sir, what fellow's that?  
May he be conscious to our secrecies?  Cham 
Yes! He is trusty, 'tis an honest fellow.  Rod. 
Gaspar has been with me, and full of tears  
Told me, since last night we're discovered;  
Your Mistress had run her lives hazard, had not  
Gaspar—  Cham 
Relieved her, is't not so? That fellow  
Was born to do me good.  Rod. 
Her jealous spouse  
Perceiving that she did affect some other,  
Had slain her, had not she begged life till night,  
And then we in our Masque must kill him.  Cham 
Brave!  
Excellent! 'Tis beyond imagination;  
Come, let us in and make us ready.  Exeunt. Eug. 
Well!  
I'll wing my feet, until my zeal can find  
Picarro out, and unto him reveal  
My Master's secrets; save his life, and then  
He will kill Chaves; so I shall revenge  
His (slighted) perjury; and if I live  
Chaves shall die, my brother I'll forgive.  Exeunt.  

Scena Quarta.  Enter Gaspar and Varlets. Gas. 
Come, come! My noble Lads! The time grows on,  
The Masquers will come by and by; here hold!  
There's 40. Ducats; spare you no man's life  
I bid you kill.  Var. 
I warrant you, Sir, we are old dog at it, they die if they had Cats lives.  Cas. 
Well said my Trojans! I shall live to make  
You walk the streets in Velvet, Plush, and Scarlet;  
Fie! on th' Dutch serges and these fustian doublets;  
Men of your quality to walk in such  
Vulgar accoutrements?  Varl. 
We are Soldiers, Sir.  Gas. 
I'll have you all made Captains, go behind:  
And when I him, be nimble as the Eels:  
Away my bullies.  Enter Picarro. Pic. 
tell me treacherous Gaspar!  
What evil have I merited of you,  
That you should be so perjured as to plot  
My ruin purposely to free that Strumpet?  
Should it be true, I might well style thee villain:  
I scarce believe it.  Gas. 
'Tis a lie beyond  
The Devils forging, think Sir, had my heart  
Been so malicious, I would have appeared  
Again before you? you may easily see  
The motive of their feigning this in hopes  
By blaming me to save themselves, to make you  
Beholding to them for the dear engagement  
Of freeing you from danger, more for spite  
That I love you and hate them: they imagined  
Thus to betray me to your rage: receive  
Dear Sir, my weapon, if you can conceit  
That I can be so impious, kill me, do it  
I do beseech you.  Pic. 
I should first conceive  
All false and base before thy loyalty:  
Thou hast been always honest true, to me.  Gas. 
Villanyed self would not deceive your goodness:  Enter Engenia. Eug. 
Is not one Signior Gaspar here?  Gas. 
He's here;  
What would you friend?  Eug. 
My Master, Signior Chaves  
Commends him greatly to you, and desires  
To speak one word with you.  Pic. 
Chaves? what's he?  Gas. 
One of the Masquers.  Eug. 
Though a stranger to you,  
Because I see you are a Gentleman;  
I'll save your life: know Cozened man, the mask  
Is nothing but a dance unto your death:  
That Gaspar has betrayed you to that Chaves  
That whored your wife: he doth expect without,  
To kill you: 'tis enough, farewel, be wise  Exit. Pic. 
Thou now art grown to that vast height in sin,  
That Dis would gape and swallow thee, but that  
The prime Fiends fear that thy vile treachery  
(Shouldst thou come thither) would so fare outshine  
As doth Hyperion in his fullest Orb,  
The smallest Pleiad; so they should not be  
Respected 'mong th'infernal Regiments.  
Thy crafts are now disclosed thy faults ripped up.  
I'll send thee straight with a deserved doom,  
To keep society with the Harpyan troops,  
And Fiends of that Tartarian Republic.  Gas. 
Still you're so credulous; just Judges use  
 they condemn, to hear both parties speak;  
I understanding Chaves to have wronged  
You in your wife, that you might vindicate  
The highest stile in vengeance-book, I went  
And told him all, he has related, promised  
You should be slain: but this was my intent,  
Only to train him hither to his death,  
That as they both had sinned, they both might suffer  
Vengeance together.  Pic. 
Why knew I not this?  Gas. 
'Twas my intent you should have knowned, he only  
Anticipated my relation.  
That you should know, I lie not— him! him!  (varlets appear) Pic. 
What are these?  Gas. 
Why these are they I hired to do the act,  
To send them both to hell: tell me, my lads  
Of steel, did I not swear you to decide  
One Chaves into Atoms?  Var. 
Yes! sound truth!  Gas. 
And whom it should please Picarro to command?  Var. 
Yes! on our honest words!  Gas. 
Lo! here comes Chaves masqued-hem!  Enter Chaves masked 
There stand the men Picarro, that must kill him.  (varlets wound) Cham 
Treason! I'm murdered, yet scorn to perish.  
Unvengeanced, you shall know I have a spirit.  (offers to draw.) 
Eugenia's curses hang upon my arm,  
Or Virgin's tears have glued my sword so fast,  
I can't unsheathe it: Oh! my strength decays.  (falls) 
Tremble not earth that thou must bear me, see  
Engenia waited on by glorious Troops  
Of constant lovers, comes t'upbraid me with  
My perjury, but I'll not hear it. Oh!  (dyes.) Gas. 
O Sir, you thought you could deflower our virgins  
Without revenge, in Balthasar's destruction  
You did triumph; and you have slain Picarro;  
Look! he lies weltering in his gore; I hope  
You'll pay me nobly for betraying him?  
You shall enjoy your Mistress I she expects  
Within your presence!  Enter Roderiguez masked. Rod. 
Ha! Picarro slain?  (stumbles at Chaves.) 
My zeal has been too tardy; I have lost  
My share of honour in this noble act.  (looks and sees 'tis Chaves) 
heavens bliss me, where's that villain that durst draw  
This noble blood? villain this hand shall be  (draws & running at Gaspar is stabbed by varlets) 
Thy Executioner! Treason! 's hell broke lose?  
Has Pluto sent these Bandogs out? yet take  (runs at Gaspar.) 
One thrust from my revengeful arm, 'twill make  
Some expiation for my noble friend,  
And these my wounds! Alas! my hand's grown weak,  
Yet will I lay me by his noble corpse,  (he falls) 
We'll brethren be in death: and know our Ghosts  
Shall make you run distracted! poor Varina!  
As my last pledge of love, in streams of blood  
Dropped from my own veins, will I drink thy health:  
Farewell my Dear; may heaven commiserate  
Thy sadness, and protect thee. Oh!  (Dyes) Pic. 
'S This he  
That stole Varina to his lust?  Gas. 
'Tis he,  
'Tis Roderiguez, Chaves his Comrade  
In all his villainies; 'tis he that slew  
Praepontio at his wedding, and conveyed  
Varina to her ruin, and his lust.  
This Lady is a stranger  Enter Eugenia in her own dress, finds Eug. 
May mine eye  Chaves dead, goes to his corpse. 
Now see the ruin of this perjured villain!  
Now my disguise is useless, Heaven hath owned  
My cause at length, and its due vengeance showered  
Upon his perjured head; heavens plagues are sure.  
Perfidious Chaves,  
That cursed hand that helped  
Thee to fulfil thy lust, now worked thy fall:  
Balthasar's death, Picarro's wrong is now  
Retaliate in this thy ruin: but stay,  
Some vengeance fall from my provoked hand;  stabs him with a bodkin, 
Eugenia gives thee this, and this; nay take  
One more for her account, perfidious slave!  
As if thy perjury could not wrong enough  
Eugenia, and the honour of our house;  
Thou must seduce my brother to thy part,  
Make him copartner in thy crimes; for him,  
For Roderiguez sake, I'll give thee this:  (stabs him) 
Nor shall my Father's grief unpunished go;  
One stab for him: me thinks my rage now sits  
Triumphant in her element; while I  
Feed it with wounds, and make his blood repay  
Both principal and Interest of my tears!  
We thank you Gaspar, and Picarro both,  
For this our bloody banquet. He! who's this?  (Sees her brother) 
My brother! Cursed villains! who durst be  
So cruel a Phlebotomist, to strike  
One vein of his? dear brother! might I fetch  
Prometheus-like, new fire from th' heavenly axle  
To put in this pure Carcase: could my breath  
Infuse new life into thee, I would lay  
Myself upon thy lips, and kiss, till all  
My vigours transmigrated into thee:  
But since the heavens are deaf, and death will deign  
No audience to my wish, thy sister shall  (tabs herself) 
Lay her thy Bedfellow: and with one stroke  
In Crimson-streams swim with thee unto bliss. Oh!  (dyes) Gas. 
More objects still of ruin? this will be  
A bloody Poppet-play:—  Enter Varina Vari. 
This way he went.  
Now fortune do thy worst, I scorn thy frown,  
Deride at those contractions on thy brow:  
Speak louder with thy threats, and spare not me,  
Varina now will live in spite of thee.  Gas. 
Varina! welcome home, Ged give you joy:  
Faith! 'tis not handsome thus to steal a wedding:  
When shall I have my Gloves? Picarro, see!  
Varina bids you joy.  Pic. 
She claims my thanks.  Var. 
Saw you my husband lately, Cousin?  Gas. 
There!  
There he's in bed with Chaves.  (She 'swounds and dies) Pic. 
Help, she falls!  Gas. 
Faith 'tis no matter: this is she, whose skill  
Helped Chaves to his Mistress; and so fooled  
Balthasar of his hopes: it was her Counsel  
Betrayed poor Mariana; 'twas her head  
That forged all the plots against your honour.  Pic. 
Excellent Gaspar! do see thou'rt honest!  
Above all malice, thou shalt share estates  
With me, thou dost deserve it, friend.  Gas. 
All this  
I've done for you, illustrious Sir, and now  
Reward me how you please: would I have been  
False, Sir, I could have had that man's estate,  
But your love is more worth than all the worlds:  
What doom must Mariana, Sir, expect?  Pic. 
She had escaped, and I by chance did find her,  
Stealing to Chaves tabern, and in rage  
I sent her to the Devil for a pawn.  Gas. 
Ha! Am I cozened? you did well, 'twas Justice,  
The Law does free you, for you only slew.  
Your wife, and her Adulterer.  Pic. 
O Gaspar!  
What means this murderer?  Gas. 
Him! shallow fool!  (They stab Picarro) 
Glory in Mariana's death? you may  
Get a new wife so beautiful.  Pic. 
Slave! Bastard!  
Hast thou no spark, or jot of goodness left?  
The salvyge Arab, or the horn-foot Satire  
May but commence thy pupils, cruel slave!  
Who e'er begot thee, sure thy mother drew  
Her blood from the Bassarides, or was  
Of near alliance to that cursed Hag,  
That into fritters sliced her only son:  
Hell was thy Cradle, and some Harpy did  
Perform the office of a wretched nurse:  
Thy heart can study nought but treachery,  
But! Oh! I feel the angry hand of death,  
Gripe my small arteries, and Atropos  
Hath bit my thread of life. Forgive me heavens!  
Treason! Oh! Treason!  (dyes) Gas. 
Look me dead, fond man  
To vex thee more, 'twas I that first betrayed  
Thy wife to Chaves: I that did procure  
Balthasar to have murdered thee, and now  
At last, when I was all disclosed, came over  
Thy stupid brain, only in one thing crossed,  
(In Mariana's death) my plots has hit,  
They're all o'erreached by one poor Bastards wit.  Enter Mariana and Catalina. 
Is not this Mariana? sure it is.  Ma. 
O horrid spectacle! what wretched hand  
Durst to attempt this execrable fact!?  
Chaves, Picarro, and Balthasar slain?  
Poor Roderiguez, and Varina too?  
What unknown Lady's this? (methinks her face  
Speaks her allied to Roderiguez!) Oh!  
Let me but kiss those lips, and send my soul  (goes to Chaves) 
With thine into Elysium to dwell:  
Lo! in these windows that let forth thy life,  
I pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes:  
Avaunt! thou dreadful minister of hell!  
Thy power could touch but their mortality:  
Their souls thou couldst not hurt: Avaunt, begun:  
If heaven have any grievous plague in store,  
Exceeding those that I can wish upon thee,  
O! let them keep it till thy sins be ripe,  
And then hurl down their indignation  
In showers of fiery Vengeance on thy head.  
Behold, the pattern of thy Butcheries!  
See! Villain! See! how my Poor Chaves wounds  
Open their congealed mouths, and bleed a fresh:  
Blush! blush! thou lump of baseness! Bastard! blush!  
Within whose breast more snakes and Hydra's dwell  
Then in the Stygian and Lernaean Dens;  
For 'tis thy presence that exhales the blood  
From cold and empty veins, where no blood dwells;  
May Heaven with lightning fry thee into death,  
Or let the inhiant Earth Devour thee quick,  
As it doth swallow up mp Chaves blood.  Gas. 
Cousin, you know no Rules of Charity.  Ma. 
Villain! thou know'st no Law of God or Man.  
No beast so fierce, but knows some touch of pity.  Gas. 
I slew them not.  Ma. 
Then say they were not slain.  
But dead they are, and Devilish Slave by thee.  Gas. 
I did not kill your Chaves,  Mar. 
Then he lives.  Gas. 
Nay, he is dead, and by Picarro slain.  Mar. 
Take heed, that monstrous lie will choke you; did  
Not you kill my dear Chaves?  Gas. 
I grant; yes!  Mar. 
Dost grant me? he was only fit for Heaven.  
And thou unfit for any place, but hell,  Gasp. 
He lives that loves you better; then he could.  Ma. 
Name him.  Gas. 
Your friend and servant, faithful Gaspar.  Ma. 
Where is he?  Gas. 
Here.  (She spits at him) 
What? dost thou spit at me?  Ma. 
Would it were mortal poison for thy sake:  
Out of my sight thou dost infect mine eyes.  Gas. 
Thy eyes sweet Cousin, have infected mine.  Ma. 
Would they were Basiliscks to strike thee dead.  Gas. 
That you may know, how little I respect  
Your love; receive this token from my arm.  (Kills her, Catalina runs out.) Varl. 
What shall we do now, Signior?  Gas. 
You must swear  
Balthasar killed Mariana, Chaves  
Balthasar; Chaves and Varina fell  
By mad Picarro's arm; then in revenge  
Roderigvez killed Picarro: this is brave,  
'Twill hold out water well; but where's this wench?  
This devil Catalina? heaven's! she's gone!  
W''re all betrayed, undone.  Enter Alonzo, Alvarez, Frederique, Catalina with guards. Gas. 
O noble Patron!  
Behold the ruin of the stateliest structure,  
Dame Nature, ever built by those cursed villains  Alo. 
My daughter!  ('Swounds) Gas. 
Comfort Signior! Let your reason  
Put reins unto your passion! Courage!  Alo. 
What? cometh Gaspar now to comfort me?  
Came he right now to sing a ravens note,  
Whose dismal tune bereft my vital powers,  
And thinks he that the chirping of a wren  
By crying comfort from a hollow breast,  
Can chase away the first conceived sounds?  
Hid not thy poison with such sugared words;  
Lay not thy hands on me, forbear I say,  
Their touch affrights me with a serpent's sting;  
Thou baleful messenger! out of my sight;  
Upon thy eyeballs murderous Tyranny  
Sits in grim majesty to fright the world:  
Look not upon me, for thy eyes are wounding;  
Yet do not go a way; come Basilicks,  
And kill the innocent Gazer with thy sight;  
For in the shade of death I shall find joy?  
In life, but double death, now she is dead;  
Come hither, Alvarez, and fright thy soul  
With a new Gorgon; see! see! where thy son  
Lies weltering in his gore!  Alu. 
Who did this murder?  Gas. 
He, that foul monster, and this cursed villain  
With that, came rushing in and slew your daughter—  
First, than Picarro killing him, was slain  
By these two varlotts:  Alo. 
Quick, lay hold on them!  
First with strong ropes we'll bind them to the rack;  
And with hit Irons extort their sparkling Eyes.  Cat. 
Sir, credit not this villain! by his means  
Chaves enjoyed your daughter; 'twas his brain  
That hammered all this mischief; and at length  
When Mariana would not own his love,  
With his own hand he stabbed her! is't not so?  
Bastard!  Gas. 
Confide not in these feigned Comments!—  Fred. 
Confess you varlets, or I'll rack you!  1. Varl. 
He  
Hired us unto it; and first by his Command  
Fell this man Chaves by our impious hands:  
And after, Roderiguez: then this Lady  
Seeing her Brother slain, did with her bodkin  
Open her veins and laid her by his side;  
Next this Varina, whose young spouse was lately  
Massacred here, now swoons into her death;  
Then by this man's command Picarro fell,  
And by his own hand Mariana, thus  
Ended this Tragic Scene.  Cat. 
'Tis doubtless true;  
But 'twas Picarro that slew Balthasar.  Gas. 
Am I betrayed? clap, thunder at my fall,  
For Fame shall speak me for as sly a Bastard,  
As Sin e'er viewed; you'll laugh when you do see  
My limbs distended on the torturing Rack:  
But you shall lose your aim; since I must die,  
I'll please myself in choosing of my death.  
But know, Alonzo, 'twas your baseness, that  
Urged me to this revenge; which you must feel  
A little nearer; you yourself shall fall.  (stabs him.) 
Curse on you all! this hand shall now set free  
Myself from your intended tyranny.  stabs himself. Alu. 
Hold! hold his hands! we'll him in piecemeal tear,  
And throw his carcase for the Dogs to feed on;  
The earth ne'er bore a monster like him.  Fred. 
Hold!  
Keep life in him, till we complete his torments,  
That his black eyes may see the vengeance due  
To his deserts; which plagues shall studied be.  Gas. 
'Tis past, I'm going now, my blood is pale,  
It comes thin from my heartstrings: may you all  
Perish, alone the Bastard doth not fall.  (Dyes.) Alu. 
Convey these bodies in, our grief shall swell,  
And study torments that may equal Hell.  Exeunt:    

ERRATA.  
Pag. 4. line 21. for Dull read Full. P. 9 l. 18. for with r. which P. 16. l. 37. for disert r. desert. P. 20. l. 46. for optitick r. optic. P. 21 l. 10. for they r. 've. P. 30. l. 12. Exit. and penult. for this winding, r. their. P. 33. l. 21. for will't r. . P. 40. l. 19 for panvilloes, r. panuillos. P. 64. l. 33. r. 'Las! Sir, I.  
FINIS.   

EPILOGUE.  

NOw we have done, 'tis the greatest of our Fears,  
You'll say,  led you hither by the Ears  
To see some strange Conceit: But when you came  
You found our ‛ Spitall-wits, both Blind and Lame:  
Faith! if we've made you Fools! 'twere best you be  
Silent, that you may have more Company.   

If any injury be done, We do  
Acknowledge, it is only done to you:  
We cooked it for your Palates, if the Meat  
Disrelish, don't indict us for a Cheat:  
We hoped to please: if ought disgust, We wish  
You'd think it but an ill-cookt Spanish Dish.   

Your Patience claims our Thanks: Let GASPAR have  
Your Favours hang like Scutcheons o'er his Grave:  
His Death hath Justice satisfied: from you  
We do (on his behalf) for Mercy sue.  
Let not your hasty Censures raise those stones  
Which do Inurn him, or disturb his Bones,  
And throw his Ashes in the air, be wise,  
Lest his proud Dust rise, and put out your eyes.  
Bridle your Passion: 'twere sin, your breath  
Should sting his Name, and blast him after Death.  
My Fancy prompts Me, that your Votes will give  
(Attested by your hands) a large Reprieve  
'Gainst Envie's doom, and that his Genius shall  
Not be condemned as quite Apocryphal:  
If any strain's unsavoury, or done't fit  
Your Humour, say it is a Bastard-Wit:  
It is our hopes in Country, Court, and City,  
If not your Love, We shall deserve your Pity.   
FINIS.