THE GRATEFUL SERVANT.  
A Comedy.  
As it was Presented with good Applause in the private House in Drury-Lane.  
By Her Majesty's Servants.  
Written by James Shirley, Gent.  
LONDON, Printed for William Leake, at the Crown in Fleetstreet, between the two Temple Gates.   

To the Right Honourable, FRANCIS EARL of RUTLAND, etc.  
My most honoured LORD,  
WHen the Age declineth from her primitive virtue, and the Silken wits of the Time, (that I may borrow from our acknowledged Master, learned JOHNSON) disgracing Nature, and harmonious Poesy, are transported with many illiterate and prodigious births, it is not safe to appear without protection. Among all the names of Honour, this Comedy oweth most gratitude to your Lordship, whose clear testimony to me was above a Theatre, and I applaud the dexterity of my Fate, that hath so well prepared a Dedication, whither my only ambition would direct it. I am not pale, to think it is now exposed to your deliberate censure; for 'tis my security, that I have studied your Lordship's Candour, and know you imitate the Divine nature which is merciful above offence. Go on great Lord, and be the volume of our English honour, in whom while others, invited by their birth, and quickened with ambitious emulation, read and study their principles, let me be made happy enough to admire, and devote myself,  
Your Lordship's most humble creature: James Shirley.   

Persons.  

DUke of Savoy, Lover of Leonora; and in her supposed loss, of Cleona.  
Lodowick, his Brother, wild and lascivious.  
Foscari, a noble Count, and Lover of Cleona.  
Grimundo, a Lord, and once Governor to Lodowick.  


Noble men of Savoy.  
Soranzo.  
Giotto.  
Fabrichio.    
Piero, Companion of Lodowick.  
Jacomo, a foolish ambitious Steward to Cleona.  
Valentio, a religious man.  
Abbot.  
Gent.  
Servants.  
Satyrs.   

Leonora, the Princess of Milan, but disguised as a Page to Foscari, and called Dulcino.  
Astella, a virtuous Lady, Wife to Lodowick, but neglected.  
Belinda, Wife to Grimundo.  
Cleona, Foscari's Mistress.  
Ladies.  
Nymphs.   
The Scene SAVOY.   

THE GRATEFUL SERVANT.  

ACTUS 1.  

SCAENA 1.  Enter Soranzo, Giotto. Giotto. 
THe Duke is moved.  Sor. 
The news displeased him much.  Giot. 
And yet I see no reason why he should engage so great affection to th' Daughter  
Of Milan; he ne'er saw her.  Sor. 
Fame doth paint  
Great beauties, and her picture (by which Princes  
Court one another) may beget a flame  
In him to raise this passion.  Giot. 
Trust a pencil.  
I like not that State-woing: see his Brother Enter Lodowick.  
Has left him. Pray my Lord how is it with  
His Highness?  Lodw. 
Somewhat calmer, Love I think  
Will kill neither of us: although I be  
No Stoic, yet I thank my Stars I have  
A power o'er my affection, if he'll not  
Tame his, let it melt him into Sonnets,  
He will prove the more loving Prince to you.  
Get in again, and make wise speeches to him,  
There is Aristotle's Ghost still with him,  
My Philosophical Governor that was:  
He wants but you two, and a pair of Spectacles,  
To see what folly 'tis to love a woman  
With that wicked resolution to marry her.  
Though he be my elder Brother, and a Duke,  
I ha' more wit: when there's a death of women  
I may turn fool, and place one of their Sex  
Nearer my heart: farewel, commend me to  
My Brother, and the Councel-Table.  Exit Sor. 
Still the same wild Prince, there needs no character  
Where he is, to express him.  Giot. 
He said truth;  
I doubt there is no room for one, whom he:  
Should place in's heart, and honour.  Sor. 
His own Lady  
All pity her misfortune, both were too  
Unripe for Hymen, 'twas the old Duke's act,  
And in such marriages hearts seldom meet  
When they grow older.  Giot. 
Wherefore would the Duke  
Marry his young son first?  Sor. 
The walk of Princes,  
To make provision betimes for them:  
They can bequath small legacy, knowing th' heir  
Carries both state and fortune for himself,  
His fate's before him, here comes Grimundo!  Enter Grimundo. Grim. 
The Duke is recollected, where's the Prince▪  Sor. 
Gone.  
I would he were returned once to himself.  Giot. 
He has too soon forgot your precepts.  Sor. 
Your example might still be a Lecture,  Grim. 
I did not deceive the old Duke's trust  
While I had power to manage him,  
he's now past my tuition, but to the Duke—  
Is it not strange my Lord, that the young Lady  
Of Milan, should be forced to marry now, with  
Her Uncle?  Giot. 
They're unequal.  Sor. 
'Tis unlawful,  Grim. 
'Tis a trifle, reasons of State they urge  
Against us, lest their Dukedom by this match,  
Be subject unto Savoy, for the scruple  
Of Religion, they are in hope that  
A Dispensation may be procured  
To quit exceptions, and by this means  
They shall preserve their Principality,  
I'th' name and blood, so reports Fabrichio  
Whom the Duke employed for treaty: how now?  Enter Gentleman. Gent. 
The Duke calls for you my Lords.  Ciot. 
We attend, Ha? he is coming forth.  Enter Duke and Fabrichio. Sor. 
His looks are cheerful.  Duke. 
Fubrichio?  Fabr. 
My Lord.  Duke. 
We will to Tennis.  Fabr. 
What your Grace please.—  Duke. 
Grimundo?  
Because you take no pleasure in such pastimes,  
Your contemplation may busy itself with that book.  Grim. 
Book my Lord, it is  Duke. 
Leonora's picture, a fair Table-book,  
You may without offence to your young wife  
Look on a picture.  
Milan and we are parted, our breast wears  
Again his natural temper, allow me pray  
The excuse of common frailty, to be moved  
At strangeness of this news.  Giot. 
Your Highness said, You would to Tennis.  Duke. 
And 'tis time enough,  
We have the day before us: some Prince Grimundo  
In such a case as this would have been angry,  
Angry indeed, thrown of cold language, and  
Called it a high, and loud affront, whose stirring  
Imagination would have weakened Death,  
And by a miserable war, have taught  
Repentance, to a pair of flourishing States,  
Such things there have been?  Sor. 
But your grace is wise—  Duke. 
Nay, do not flatter now, I do not Court  
Your praise so much, I speak but what our stories  
Mention, if they abuse not soft posterity:  
I was not come to tell you, what my thoughts,  
With a strong murmur prompt me too.  Grim. 
We hope—  Duke. 
Ye fear, and do not know me yet, my actions  
Shall clear your jealousy, l'me reconciled  
At home, and while I cherished a peace here,  
Abroad I must continue it, there are  
More Ladies i'the world?  Fabr. 
Most true my Lord.  Duke. 
And as attractive great, and glorious women,  
Are there not, ha?  Sor. 
Plenty my Lord i'the world.  Duke. 
l'the world, within the confines of our Dukedom  
In Savoy, are there not?  Grim. 
In Savoy too.  
Many choice beauties, but your birth my Lord—  Duke. 
Was but an honour purchased by another,  
It might have been thy chance.  Grim. 
My Father was— No Duke.  Duke. 
'Twas not thy fault, nor ist my virtue,  
That I was born when the fresh Sun was rising,  
So came with greater shadow into life,  
Than thou or he.  Grim 
But royal Sir be pleased—  Duke. 
No more, wear not ignorant, you may  
Take away this distinction, and allege  
In your grave wisdoms, specious arguments,  
For your alliance with some foreign Prince,  
But we have weighed their promising circumstance,  
And find it only a device, that may  
Serve time, and some dark ends, a mere state trick,  
To disguise hatred, and is empty of  
Those benefits, it seems to bring along:  
Give me a Lady born in my obedience,  
Whose disposition, will not engage  
A search into the nature of her Climate,  
Or make a scrutiny into the Stars:  
Whose language is mine own, and will not need  
A smooth Interpreter, whose virtue is  
Above all titles, though her birth or fortune,  
Be a degree beneath us, such a Wife  
Were worth a thousand far fetched Brides, that have  
More state, and less Devotion.  Fabr. 
If your Highness—  Duke. 
Come you shall know our purpose, in the last  
We obeyed your directions, not without  
Our free and firm allowance of the Lady  
Whom we'll forget, it will become our duties,  
Follow us now, we have not been unthrifty  
In our affections, and I must tell you  
Here we are fixed to marry.  Grim. 
We are subjects,  
And shall solicit Heaven, you may find one  
Worthy your great acceptance.  Duke. 
We are confident,  
And to put off the cloud we walk in, know  
We are resolved to place all love and honour  
Upon Cleona. Nor is't a new affection, we but cherish  
Some seeds, which heretofore her virtue had  
Scattered upon our heart.  Grim. 
We cannot be  
Ambitious of a Lady, in your own  
Dominion, to whom we shall more willingly  
Prostrate our duties.  Soran. 
She's a Lady of  
A flowing sweetness, and the living virtue  
Of many noble Ancestors.  Giot. 
In whom  
Their fortunes meet, as their Prophetic souls  
Had taught them thrifty providence, for this  
Great honour you intent her.  Duke. 
We are pleased,  
And thank your general vote:  
You than shall strait prepare our visit, bear our  
Princely respects, and say we shall take pleasure  
To be her Guests to day: nay lose no time,  
We shall the sooner quit the memory  
Of Leonora's Image.  Enter Lodowick. Soran. 
The Prince your brother Sir?  Duke. 
Withdraw, but be not at too much distance.  Lodowick. 
You're welcome.  Lodw. 
I shall know that by my success, I want  
A thousand Crowns, a thousand Crowns.  Duke. 
For what?  Lod. 
Why will these foolish questions ne'er be left,  
Is't not sufficient I would borrow 'em,  
But you must still capitulate with me?  
I would put 'em to that use they were ordained for;  
You might have well have asked me, when I meant  
To pay you again.  Duke. 
That to some other men  
Might ha' been necessary.  Lodw. 
And you won't  
Do that, I have another easy suit to you.  Duke. 
What is't?  Lodw. 
A thing of nothing; I would entreat you  
To part with this same transitory honour,  
This trifle called a Dukedom, and retire  
Like a good Christian Brother, into some  
Religious house, it would be a great ease to you,  
And comfort to your friends, especially  
To me, that would not trouble you with the noise  
Of money thus, and I could help it.  Duke. 
'Tis a kind and honest motion, out of Charity,  
Mere Charity, so I must needs accept it— Why?  
I'll only marry, and get a boy, or two,  
To govern this poor trifle, for I'm bound  
In duty, to provide for my succession.  Lodw. 
What do you make of me, cannot I serve?  Duke. 
You that propound a benefit for my soul,  
Won't neglect your own I know: we'll both  
Turn Friars together?  Lodw. 
And be lousy?  Duke. 
Any thing.  Lodw. 
I shall not have a thousand Crowns?  Duke. 
Thou shalt.  Lodw. 
Then be a duke still; come, le's love, and be  
Fine Princes: and thou hadst but two or three  
Of my conditions, by this hand I would not  
Care and thou wert immortal, so I might  
Live with thee, and enjoy this world's felicity.  Duke. 
thou'st put me in tune, how shall's be very merry  
Now in the instant?  Lodw. 
Merry?  Duke. 
Yes.  Lodw. 
Merry indeed?  Duke. 
Yes.  Lodw. 
Follow me.  
I'll bring you to a Lady.  Duke. 
To a Whore.  Lodw. 
That is a little the courser name.  Duke. 
And can you play the Pander for me?  Lodw. 
A toy, a toy.  
What can a man do less for any brother?  
Th'ordinary compliment now a days, with great ones,  
We prostitute our sisters with less scruple  
Than eating flesh on vigils; 'tis out of fashion  
To trust a servant with our private sins;  
The greater tie of blood, the greater faith,  
And therefore Parents have been held of late  
The safest wheels on which the children's lust  
Hath hurried into act, with supple greatness.  
Nature doth wear a virtuous charm, and will  
Do more in soft compassion to the sin,  
Than gold or swelling promises.  Duke. 
O Lodowick!  
These things do carry horror, he is lost  
I fear; no I ha' thought of something else,  
You shall with me to a Lady.  Lodw. 
With all my heart.  Duke. 
Unto my Mistress.  Lodw. 
Your Mistress, who's that?  Duke. 
The fair Cleona.  Lodw. 
She is honest.  Duke. 
Yes, were she otherwise, she were not worth my visit;  
Not to lose circumstance, I love her.  Lodw. 
How?  Duke. 
Honestly.  Lodw. 
You do not mean to marry her?  Duke. 
It sha'not be my fault if she refuse  
To be a Duchess.  Lodw. 
A'my Conscience,  
You are in earnest.  Duke. 
As I hope to thrive in desires, come  
You shall bear me company, and witness  
How I woo her.  Lodw. 
I commend  
Your nimble resolution; then a Wise  
Must be had somewhere, would you'd mine, to cool  
Your appetite, take your own course, I can  
But pray for you; the thousand Crowns—  Duke. 
Upon condition, you'll not refuse, to Accompany.—  Lodw. 
Your Caroche quickly— stay—  
Now I think better on't, my Wife lives with her,  
They are companions, I had forgot that?  Duke. 
she'll take it kindly.  Lodw. 
It were enough to put her  
Into conceit, I come in love to her;  
My Constitution will not bear it.  Duke. 
What? Not see her?  Lodw. 
Yet a thousand Crowns— God buy  
Condemn me to my wife.  Exit. Duke. 
Ye hear Gentlemen?  Grim. 
With grief my Lord, and wonder at your sufferance.  Duke. 
He is our Brother, we are confident  
Though he be wild he loves us, 'twill become  
Us t' pray and leave him to a miracle,  
But to our own affair.  
Love and thy golden Arrow, we shall try,  
How you'll decide our second Destiny.  Exeunt. Enter Foscari with a Letter. Fosc. 
A kiss, and then 'tis sealed; this she would know  
Better than the impression, which I made,  
With the rude signet; 'tis the same she left  
Upon my lip, when I departed from her,  
And I have kept it warm still, with breath,  
That in my prayers have mentioned her.  Enter Dulcino. Dulc. 
My Lord?  Fosc. 
Dulcino welcome: Thou Art soon returned.  
How dost thou like the City?  Dulc. 
'Tis a heap of handsome building.  Fosc. 
And how the people?  Dulc. 
My conversation hath not age enough  
To speak of them, more than they promise well  
In their aspect: but I have argument  
Enough in you, my Lord, to fortify  
Opinion, they are kind, and hospitable to Strangers.  Fosc. 
Thy indulgence to my wound,  
Which owes a Cure unto thy pretty Surgery,  
Hath made thee too much Prisoner to my chamber,  
But we shall walk abroad.  Dulc. 
It was my duty?  
Since you received it in my cause; and could  
My blood have wrought it sooner, it had been  
Your balmy Fountain.  Fosc. 
Noble youth, I thank thee. Enter Servant.  
How now, didst speak with him?  Seru. 
I had the happiness, My Lord, to meet him  
Waiting upon the Duke abroad: he bid me  
Make haste with the remembrance of his Service:  
He'll bring his own joys with him instantly,  
To welcome your return.  
 Fosc. 
Didst thou reqnest  
His secrecy?  Ser. 
I did, he promised silence.  Fosc. 
So, I'll expect him, thou art sad Dulcino,  
I prophesy thou shalt have cause, to bless  
The minute, that first brought us to acquaintance.  Dulc. 
Do not suspect my Lord, I am so wicked,  
Not to do that already, you have saved  
My life, and therefore have deserved that duty.  Fosc. 
Name it no more, I mean another way.  Dulc. 
It is not in your power, to make me Richer,  
With any benefit, shall succeed it, though  
I should live ever with you.  Fosc. 
I require,  
Not so much gratitude.  Dulc. 
There is no way  
Left for my hope, to do you any service,  
Near my preserving, but by adding one  
New favour, to a suit, which I would name.  Fosc. 
To me, I prithee speak, it must be something  
I can deny thee.  Dulc. 
'Tis an humble suit,  
You licence my departure.  Fosc. 
Whither?  Dulc. 
Any whither.  Fosc. 
Do you call this a way to do me service?  Dulc. 
It is the readiest I can study Sir;  
To tarry were but to increase my debt,  
And waste your favours; in my absence, I  
May publish, how much virtue I have found  
In Savoy, and make good unto your fame.  
What I do owe you here, this shall survive you,  
For I will speak the story with that truth,  
And strength of passion, it shall do you honour,  
And dwell upon your name sweeter than Myrrh,  
When we are both dead?  Fosc. 
Thou hast art, to move  
In all things, but in this, change thy desire,  
And I'll deny thee nothing; do not urge  
Thy unkind departure, thou hast met perhaps,  
With some that have deceived thee with a promise,  
Won with thy pretty looks and presence; but  
Trust not a great man, most of them dissemble,  
Pride, and Court-cunning hath betrayed their faith,  
To a secure Idolatry, their soul  
Is lighter than a compliment; take heed,  
They'll flatter thy too young ambition,  
Feed thee with names, and then like subtle Chemists  
Having extracted, drawn thy spirit up,  
Laugh, they have made thee miserable.  Dulc. 
Let  
No jealousy my Lord, render me so  
Unhappy, that preferments or the flatteries  
Of any great man hath seduced my will  
To leave you.  Fosc. 
Still I suspect thy safety?  
And thou mayst thus deceive me, it may be,  
Some wanton Lady hath beheld thy face,  
And from her eyes shot Cupid's into thine.  
Trust not the innocence of thy soul too far,  
For though their bosoms carry whiteness, think,  
It is not snow, they dwell in a hot Climate,  
The Court, where men are but deceitful shadows,  
The women, walking flames; what if this Lady  
Bestow a wealthy Carcanet upon thee,  
Another give thee Wardrobes, a third promise  
A Chain of Diamonds, to deck thy youth,  
'Tis to buy thy virtue from thee, and when  
Thy outside thrives, upon their treacherous bounty  
The outstarve at heart, and lust will leave thy body  
Many unpitied Ruins, thou art young—  Dulc. 
There is no fear my Lord, that I shall take  
Such wicked courses, and I hope you see not  
Any propension in my youth, to sin  
For pride, or wantonness.  Fosc. 
Indeed I do not,  
But being my boy so young, and beautiful,  
Thou art apt to be seduced.  Dulc. 
Believe me Sir,  
I will not serve the greatest Prince on earth  
When I leave you.  Fosc. 
Thou shalt not serve me, I  
Will make thee my companion.  Dulc. 
No Reward,  
Though just, should buy the freedom I was born with,  
Much less base ends, if I but meet again  
That good man, who in Reverence to his habit,  
The thiefs let go before your happy valour  
Came to my Rescue.  Fosc. 
He that was your Conduct  
From Milan, for so— if I remember  
You named a Father, what could he advantage  
Your fortune, were he present, more, than with  
Religious Counsel?  Dulc. 
I did trust him Sir,  
As being the 〈…〉 asurer, with that  
Would make me welcome in Savoy, and  
I know he will be faithful, when we meet.  
For his sake let me beg you would discharge  
A worthless Servant, that inquest of him—  Fosc. 
No more, to cut off all unwelcome motives,  
I charge thee by thy Love, thy Gratitude,  
Thy life preserved, which but to stay thee here,  
I would not name again; urge no consent  
From me, to thy departure, I have now  
Use of thy faith, thou wilt not run away;  
I have employment for thee, such a one  
As shall not only pay my services,  
But leave me in arrearage to thy love.  
Receive this letter. Enter Grimundo.  
Let me embrace thee with a spreading arm.  Grim. 
I have dispensed with my attendance on  
The Duke, to bid you welcome Sir from death;  
Fame so had couz'nd our belief, but thus  
She has made you the more precious.  Fosc. 
Then I prospered,  
If I may call it so, for I procured  
That Rumour to be spread, excuse a minute,  
I'll tell thee all my Counsels, I need not  
Waste any instructions on thee Dulcino,  
For the conveyance of this paper, let me  
Commend it to thy care, 'tis to my Mistress,  
Conceal my lodgings, and do this for him  
Will study noble Recompense.  Dulc. 
You command me.  Exit. Grim. 
What pretty youth is that? sure I have seen  
That face before.  Fosc. 
Never; I brought him first  
To Savoy, having rescued him from the  
Bandits, in my passage o'er the Confines:  
Is't not a sweet-faced thing? there are some Ladies  
Might change their beauties with him.  Grim. 
And gain by it.  Fosc. 
Nay, to his shape he has as fine a Soul,  
Which graceth that perfection.  Grim. 
You ha' not  
Been long acquainted with him?  Fosc. 
I have skill  
In Phisnomy: believe my Character,  
He's full of excellent sweetness.  Grim. 
You express him  
Passionately.  Fosc. 
His virtue will deserve  
More praise, he suffers sit for love, in that  
He is a Gentleman; for never could  
Narrow and earthly minds be capable  
Of Love's impression, or the injury—  
He willingly forsook his friends and Country,  
Because unkindly for unworthy ends,  
They would have forced him marry against his heart,  
He told me so himself, and it were sin  
Not to believe him: but omitting these,  
How fares the best of Ladies, my Cleona?  Grim. 
Your Cleona?  Fosc. 
Mine, she is in affection,  
She is not married?  Grim. 
No.  Fosc. 
She is in health?  Grim. 
Yes.  Fosc. 
There is something in thy looks, I cannot  
Read, be thy own gloss, and make me know  
That doubtful Text, to whom hath she given up  
The hope of my felicity, her heart,  
Since my too fatal absence?  Giot. 
Unto none,  
Within the circle of my knowledge.  Fosc. 
Then  
I am renewed again, may thy tongue never  
Know sorrows accent.  Grim. 
Will you presently.  
Visit her?  Fosc. 
I have sent a letter, to  
Certify, I am still her loving servant.  Grim. 
No matter, we'll be there before the boy,  
There is necessity, if you knew all:  
Come le's away.  Fosc. 
Again thou dost afflict  
My Soul with jealousy, if she have still  
The clear possession of her heart.  Grim. 
But you are  
Dead Sir, remember that.  Fosc. 
I shall be living,  
And soon enough present myself her fresh  
And active Lover.  Grim. 
If the Duke be not  
Before you.  Fosc. 
How?  Grim. 
The Duke, 'tis so resolved,  
Your Rival, if you still affect Cleona,  
Within this hour, he means his first solicit  
And personal siege; lose not yourself with wonder,  
If you neglect this opportunity,  
She having firm opinion of your death,  
It will not be a miracle, if the Title  
of Duchess be a strong temptation  
To a weak woman.  Fosc. 
I must thank your love,  
And counsel, but for this time disengage  
Your further stay with me, the Duke may miss you,  
Preserve his favour, and forget me in  
Your conference, I would be still concealed;  
Let me consider on my fate, again  
I thank you, and dismiss you.  Grim. 
Quiet thoughts  
Dwell in your breast, in all things I obey you;  
You know you have my heart.  Nosc. 
She's but a woman:  
Yet how shall I be able to accuse her  
With any justice, when she thinks me dead.  
The Duke, I must do something, I am full  
Of discord, and my thoughts are fight in me.  
From our own Army must arise one fear,  
When Love itself is turned a Mutineer.    

ACTUS. 2.  

SCAENA. 2.  Enter Jacome, the Steward, and Servant's. Jac. 
So, so, yet more perfume, ye are sweet Servingmen, make every corner of the house smoke, bestir yourselves, every man know his Province, and be officious to please my Lady, according to his talon; have you furnished out the banquet?  Seru. 
Most methodically.  Jac. 
'Tis well, here should have been a fresh suit of Arras, but no matter, these bear the age well, let'em hang.  Seru. 
And there were a Mask to entertain his Highness?  Jac. 
Hang Masks, let every conceit show his own face, my Lady would not disguise her entertainment, and now I talk of disguising, where's the Butler?  Butl. 
Here Sir.  Jac. 
Where Sir? 'tis my Lady's pleasure that you be drunk to day, you will deal her Wine abroad the more liberally among the Duke's servants, you are two tall Fellows, make good the credit of the Buttery, and when you are drunk, I will send others to relieve you: Go to your stations, if his Grace come hither a Suitor to my Lady, as we have some cause to suspect, and after marry her, I may be a great man, and ride upon a Reverend Moil by patent, there is no end of my preferment; I did once teach my Lady to dance, she must then teach me to rise: for indeed it is just, that only those, who get their living by their legs, should ride upon a Foot-cloth.  Seru. 
Here's a young Gentleman desires to speak with my Lady.  Jac. 
More young Gentlemen? tell him I am busy.  Seru. 
With my Lady—  Jac. 
Busy with my Lady Sir?  Seru. 
Would speak with my Lady Sir?  Jacom. 
I ha' not done with my Lady myself yet, he shall stay, 'tis for my Lady's State, no time to interrupt my Lady; but now? I'll know his business, and taste it for my Lady; if I like it, she shall hear more, but bid him come to me, methinks I talk like a peremptory Statesman already, I shall quickly learn to forget myself when I am in great office; I will oppress the Subject, flatter the Prince, take bribes a both sides, do right to neitber, serve heaven as far as my profit will give me leave, and tremble only at the summons of a Parliament.  Enter Dulcino. 
Hum, a Page, a very Page, one that would wriggle and prefer himself to be a Wag, 'tis so, have you any letter of commendations?  Dulc. 
I have a Letter Sir.  Jac. 
Let me see the complexion of the face, has it a handsome  
Title Page, is it Stilo novo?  Dulc. 
I have command Sir, to deliver it  
To none but to my Lady.  Jac. 
A forward Youth, I like him, he is not modest, I will assist his preferment, to engage him to my faction, a special Court-policie, see my Lady.  Enter Cleona, Astella, Belinda. Cleona. 
Yet stay Belinda—  Bel. 
I beseech you Madam  
Allow excuse to my abrupt departure.  
There is a business of much consequence,  
And which you will not mourn to see effected.  
Besides the duty that I owe my Lord,  
Compels me to it Madam.  Cleon. 
Well, but that  
We are acquainted with your virtue, this  
Would move suspicion you were not in  
Charity with the Duke.  Bel. 
You are pleasant Madam.  Cleon. 
You are severe to bind yourself too strictly  
From Court and entertainments, sure your Lord  
Should chide you for it.  Astel. 
If it please you stay,  
Your Ladyship and I'll converse together,  
My unkind Fate hath indisposed me,  
To these State Ceremonies too.  Bel. 
You will oblige me by your pardon?  Cle. 
Use your pleasure.  Ast. 
Nay you shall give me leave a little further,  
Here I am useless.  Exeunt Astella, Belinda. Jac. 
May it please you Madam,  
This pretty Gentleman has a suit to you,  
And I in his behalf; he will be serviceable  
And active in his place, a friend of mine.  Dulc. 
Your Steward Madam is too full of zeal  
To do me a preferment, but I have  
No other ambition, than to commend  
This paper to your white hands.  Jac. 
Never doubt,  
'Tis done, be bold and call me fellow.  Cleon. 
Be  
You circumspect I pray, that all things have  
Their perfect shape and order to receive  
The Duke: you know our pleasure, not to spare  
Or cost or study to delight his highness.  Jac. 
I hope I have not been your Steward so long,  
But I know how to put your Ladyship  
To cost enough without study.  She reads. Cleon. 
Shall I credit  
So great a bliss? the date is fresh, Foscari  
Whom I thought dead? give him five hundred Crowns▪  Jac. 
We will divide 'em.  Cleon. 
Stay.  Jac. 
You need not bid,  
I use to make 'em stay, and long enough  
Ere they receive such bounties.  Cleon. 
Treasure is  
Too cheap a payment for so rich a message.  Jac. 
This is the right Court largess.  Cleon. 
The day breaks glorious to my darkened thoughts,  
He lives, he lives yet; cease ye amorous fears,  
More to perplex me: prithee speak sweet Youth,  
How fares my Lord? upon my Virgin heart  
I'll build a flaming Altar, to offer up  
A thankful sacrifice for his Return  
To life, and me; speak and increase my comforts:  
Is he in perfect health?  Dulc. 
Not perfect Madam, until you bless him with  
The knowledge of your constancy.  Cleon. 
O get thee wings and fly then,  
Tell him my love doth burn like vestal fire,  
Which with his memory, richer than all spices,  
Dispersed odours round about my soul,  
And did refresh it when 'twas dull and sad,  
With thinking of his absence.  Jac. 
This is strange,  
My Lady is in love with him.  Cleon. 
Yet stay,  
Thou goest too soon away, where is he, speak?  Dulc. 
He gave me no Commission for that Lady,  
He will soon save that question by his presence.  Cle. 
Time h'as no feathers, he walks now on crutches,  
Relate his gesture when he gave thee this,  
What other words, did mirth smile on his brow,  
I would not for the wealth of this great world,  
He should suspect my faith, what said he prithee?  Dulc. 
He said, what a warm lover, whom desire  
Makes eloquent could speak.  Jac. 
I have found it,  
That boy comes from the Duke, that letter love,  
'Twill be a match, and please your Ladyship—  Cleo. 
Forbear your Ceremonies, what needs all this  
Preparation, if the Duke vouchsafe  
His person for my guest, duty will teach me,  
To entertain him without half this trouble;  
I'll have no Riot for his Highness.  Jac. 
Hum?  
How's this?  Cleo. 
Be less officious, you forget—  
Sweet Youth, go forward with thy story.  Jac. 
Hum?  
This is a Fairy, and the Devil sent him  
To make my Lady mad, 'twere well to try  
Whether he be flesh and blood, ha, I'll pinch him first.  Cleo. 
How now?  He pinches Dulcino. Jac. 
My care shall see nothing be wanting, for  
Your honour, and the Dukes.  Cleo. 
Your place I see,  
Is better than your manners, go too, be  
Less troublesome, his Highness brings intents  
Of grace, not burden to us, know your duty.  Jac. 
So, I were best keep myself warm with my own office, while I may, the tide is turned I see within two minutes, here was nothing but look to the Gallery, perfume the Chambers, what Music for the Duke, a Banquet for the Duke, now, be less officious, We'll have no Riot for his Highness, 'tis this Urchin h'as undone all our preferment.  Cle. 
The Sun's loved flower, that shuts his yellow Curtain,  
When he declineth, opens it again  
At his fair rising, with my parting Lord,  
I closed all my delights, till his approach,  
It shall not spread itself.  Enter Gentleman. Gent. 
Madam the Duke?  Cleon. 
Already.  Enter Astella and Ladies. Ast. 
He is entered.  Cleon. 
Do not leave me,  
I shall remember more.  Enter Duke, Fabrichio, Soranzo, Giotto. Duke. 
Excellent Cleona.  Cleo. 
The humble duty of a Subject to your Highness.  Duke. 
Rise high in our thoughts, and thus  
Confirm we are welcome, to these eyes, our heart,  
Shall pay a lower duty, than obedience  
Hath taught your knee.  Cleon. 
Your Grace much honours me,  
Till this white hour, these walls were never proud,  
T'enclose a guest, the genius of our house,  
Is by so great a presence waked, and glories,  
To entertain you.  Duke. 
Every accent falls  
Like a fresh Jewel, to increase her value,  
We can but thank Cleona.  Cleon. 
Royal Sir—  Duke. 
Let me revoke that hasty syllable,  
But thank thee; yes, we can do more, and will,  
We have a heart to do't, our much grieved Sister  
I know you do not wear this sadness for  
Our presence.  Ast. 
If I've any skill in mine own eyes,  
Since they beheld you, they have looked  
More cheerfully, than they were wont.  Duke. 
And yet I see a tear is ready to break prison.  Ast. 
It is of joy to see you sir in health,  
I hope the Prince is well?  Duke. 
He will be so  
Astella, when he leaves to be unkind  
To thee, but let's forget him.  Dulc. 
Fame has not  
Injured him, in the character of his person.  
And his shape promiseth a richer Soul,  
I feel a new and fiery spirit dance,  
Upon my heartstrings.  Duke. 
We are come  
My fair Cleona.  Cleo. 
With your Highness' pardon,  
That name was never so attended, it  
Becomes your bounty, but not me to wear  
That Title.  Duke. 
What?  Cleo. 
Of fair my Lord?  Duke. 
I said you were my fair Cleona—  Cleo. 
Sir?  Duke. 
I did apply,  
I hope 't does not offend to call you so,  
YE are yet my Subject.  Cleo. 
When I leave that name, may heaven—  Duke. 
Be pleased to change it for a better.  Cleo. 
It cannot.  Duke. 
Do not sin, 'tis in our power  
With your consent, to work that wonder Lady.  Cleo. 
I want my understanding.  Duke. 
I'll explain,  Cleo. 
Do not believe him Youth, by all the faith  
Of Virgins, I'll not change my service, to  
Thy Master for his Dukedom.  Dulc. 
YE are too Noble.  Duke. 
What boy is that? Ha Giotto?  Dulc. 
Madam, the Duke observes us.  Duke. 
I ha' seen him.  
It is no common face.  Soran. 
My Lord we know not.  Duke. 
Where is Grimundo?  Giot. 
Not yet come my Lord.  Duke. 
Send for him straight, and bid him bring the picture  
We gave into his keeping, yet forbear,  
It is in vain.  Soran. 
My Lord, Cleona waits  
Your farther Courtship.  Duke. 
Wither am I carried?  Cleo. 
I hope, dread Sir, my house affords no object,  
To interrupt your quiet.  Duke. 
None but heavenly,  
Or could this Roof be capable of ill,  
Your only presence Lady would convert it,  
There is a virtuous magic in your eye.  
For wheresoever it casts a beam, it does  
Create a goodness, you've a handsome boy.  Dulc. 
The Duke is troubled?  Cleo. 
He's a pretty Youth.  Dulc. 
I hope he won't take me from my Lady,  
I'll say I am her servant.  Duke. 
Something binds  
My speech, my heart is narrow of a sudden:  
Giotto take some opportunity  
To inquire that Youth's condition, name, and Country,  
And give us private knowledge, to cut off  
off Circumstance Lady, I am not your fresh,  
And unacquainted Lover, that doth waste Soranzo whispers with Jacome.  
The tedious Moons with preparation  
To his amorous suit, I have been Cleona,  
A long admirer of your Virtues, and  
Do want the comfort of so sweet a partner,  
In your young state.  Cleo. 
You mock your humble handmaid.  Soran. 
A stranger sayest?  Jac. 
He brought some welcome letter  
To my Lady.  Sor. 
Not know his name, nor whence?  Jac. 
No my good Lord. So so, I like this well,  
My Lady does apply her to the Duke,  
There is some hopes again things may succeed;  
This Lords discoursing with me, is an Omen  
To my familiarity to greatness.  Duke. 
Grimundo not come yet? I am not well.  Cle. 
Good heaven defend, Angels protect your Highness.  Duke. 
Your holy prayers cannot but do me good.  
Continue that devotion, Charity  
Will teach you a consent to my departure.  Cleo. 
I am unhappy.  Duke. 
Make me not so Lady  
By the least trouble of yourself; I am  
Acquainted with these passions, let me breathe  
A heart upon thy lip; farewell, again  
Your pardon.  Exit. Soran. 
'Tis a very strange distemper,  
And sudden: Noble Lady we must wait  
Upon the Duke.  Exeunt. Jac. 
My bud is nipped again,  
Would all the banquet were in his belly for't.  Dulc. 
Let not my eyes betray me.  Jac. 
I'm sick too;  
Let not your Ladyship repent your cost,  
I'll have a care the sweetmeats be not lost.  Exit. Cleo. 
Acquaint him with these passages of the Duke,  
Tell him I long to see him, and at last,  
To crown the story, say my heartshall know  
No other love but his.  Dulc. 
I fly with this  
Good news.  Exit. Dulc. Enter Jac. Jac. 
Madam, here is Prince Lodowick.  Cleon. 
Attend him.  Jac. 
Most officiously.  Cleon. 
Stay, it can do no harm.  Ast. 
E'en what you please.  Cleon. 
If he inquire for his Lady, answer  
She is not very well, and keeps her Chamber.  Jac. 
I'll say she's dead if you please, 'tis my duty:  
I'll never speak truth while I live that shall  
Offend your Ladyship.  Cleon. 
You may hear all, Enter Lodowick and Piero.  
And when you please appear.  Lodw. 
Sick; where's her Doctor?  
I'll be acquainted with him. Noble Lady.  Cleon. 
Your Grace is here most welcome.  Lodw. 
I am bold?  Pier. 
I am happy that my duty to the Prince  
Brought me to kiss your hand.  Cleon. 
Beside the honour done to me, your person  
Will add much comfort to Astella, your  
Weak Lady.  Lodw. 
She is sick; mend, let her mend, she'll spend her time worse, yet she knows my mind, and might do me the courtesy to die once; I'd take it more kindly, than to be at charge of a Physician.  Cleon. 
You would not poison her?  Lodw. 
I think I must be driven to't; what shall a man do with a Woman that won't be ruled. I ha'given cause enough to break any reasonable woman's heart in Savoy, and yet you see how I am troubled with her: but leave her to the Destinies. Where is my Brother all this while? I came to meet him; what, is't a match already? when shall we dance and triumph in the Tiltyard, for honour of the high and mighty Nuptials? where is he?  Cleon. 
My Lord, he is gone.  Lodw. 
How?  Cleon. 
Distempered.  Lodw. 
Not with Wine?  Cleon. 
Departed sick.  Lodw. 
She jeers him: By this lip I'll love thee, and thou wots abuse him; I knew he would but shame himself, and therefore durst not come with him for my own credit; I warrant he came fierce upon thee with some parcel of Poetry, which he had conned by heart out of Tasso, Guarini, or some other of the same melting Tribe, and thought to have brought thy Maiden Town to his obedience, at the first noise of his furious Artillery.  Cleon. 
My Lord, you understand me not, your Brother  
Is not in health; some unkind pain within him  
Compelled him to forsake us.  Lodw. 
Is it true  
That he is sick? My Brother sick Piero.  Pier. 
I am very well here.  1. Lady. 
So am not I: pray sir appear more civil,  
Or I shall leave you.  Lodw. 
True?  Cleon. 
'Tis too true my Lord.  Lodw. 
No, no, Truth is a virtuous thing, and we cannot have too much on't. D'ye hear, if I may counsel you, be wise, and stay for me; you may be my Wife within this month, and the Duchess too.  Cleon. 
Your Wife my Lord; why you are married,  
What shall become of her?  Lodw. 
Is she not sick?  Cleon. 
But are you sure she'il die?  Lodw. 
What a ridiculous question do you make: If death won't take a fair course with her, are there not reasons enough in State think you, to behead her; or if that seem cruel, because I do not affect blood, but for very good ends, I can be divorced from her, and leave her rich in the title of Lady Dowager.  Cleon. 
Upon what offence can you pretend a divorce?  Lodw. 
Because she is not fruitful; is not that a sin?  Cleon. 
Would your Lordship have her fruitful, and you  
Ne'er lie with her?  Lodw. 
Have not I known a Lady, whose husband is an Eunuch upon Record, mother to three or four children, and no free conscience but commends her?  Cleon. 
But these things won't be easily perfect, unless  
You were Duke to enforce 'em.  Lodw. 
Is not my Brother in the way? sick already, and perhaps as fit for heaven as another; I know he cannot live long, he's so well given, they never thrive, and then d'ye think I'll keep such a religious Court; in this corner lodge a Covey of Capochins, who shall zealously pray for me without Stockings, in that a nest of Carthusians, things which in fine turn to Otters, appear flesh, but really are fish: No, no, give me a Court of flourishing pleasure, where delight in all her shapes, and studied varieties every minute courts the soul to act her chief felicity.  Cleon. 
Do you never think of hell?  Lodw. 
Faith I do, but it always makes me melancholy, and therefore as seldom as I can my contemplation shall point thither; I am now in the spring of my life, winter will come on fast enough; when I am old, I will be as methodical an hypocrite, as any pair of Lawn Sleeves in Savoy.  Cleon. 
I dare not hear him longer: Madam, release me.  Enter Astella. Lodw. 
How now; whence come you? were you sick?  Ast. 
At heart my Lord, to think of your unkindness.  Lodw. 
At heart: I'll ne'er believe without inspection. Am I unkind? go to, there's not a friend in the whole world can wish you better: Would you were canonised a Saint, 'tis more than I wish myself yet; I do not trouble thee much on earth, and thou wert in heaven I would not pray to thee, for fear of disturbing thy Seraphical devotion.  Ast. 
What sin have I committed deserves  
This distance?  Cleon. 
In Christian charity salute her.  Lodw. 
I would not have your Ladyship too venturous,  
The air is somewhat cold, and may endanger  
A weak body.  Ast. 
If the suspicion that I am unchaste—  Lodw. 
Unchaste; By this hand I do not know an honest woman in the Dukedom.  Cleon. 
How, my Lord: what do ye think of me?  Lodw. 
I know not whether you be a woman or no, yet.  Cleon. 
Fie, my Lord.  Lodw. 
What would you have me do? I have not seen her this six months.  Ast. 
O rather, my Lord, conclude my sufferings,  
Than thus with tortures lengthen out my death:  
Oh kill me, and I beseech you; I will kiss  
The instrument, which guided by your hand,  
Shall give my grief a period, and pronounce Enter Grimundo.  
With my last breath your free forgiveness.  Lodw. 
No, kill yourself, more good will come on't: how now? nay then we're like to have a precious time on't.  Cleon. 
The Duke, my Lord, enquired for you.  Grim. 
I met  
His Highness in return, and he employed me  
To bring back knowledge of his better health;  
Which, he says, shall enable him but to  
Express how much he honours fair Cleona.  Cleon. 
I am his studious servant, and rejoice  
In this good news: Your Brother is recovered.  Lodw. 
ay, I, I knew he would do well enough: Now sir?  Grim. 
I have some business with you, my Lord,  
Were you at opportunity.  Lodw. 
Some moral exhortations; they are fruitless: I shall never eat Garlic with Diogenes in a Tub, and speculate the Stars without a Shirt: Prithee enjoy thy Religion, and live at last most Philosophical lousy.  Grim. 
My design is of another nature.  Cleon. 
May I obtain so great a favour Sir,  
You'd be my guest in absence of the Duke;  
I'm but ambitious to remember  
His health in Greek Wine.  Lodw. 
So this Lady will be temperate, and use me but like a Stranger, without pressing me to inconveniences of kissing her, and other superstitious Courtship of a husband.  Cleon. 
I will engage she'll not offend you.  Lodw. 
And yet it goes against my conscience to tarry so long in honest company; but my comfort is, I do not use it. Come away Piero, you have had a fine time on't.  Cleon. 
My Lord.  Grim. 
I follow Madam, yet have comfort,  
Though reason and example urge our fears,  
Heaven will not let you lose so many tears.  Exeunt. Enter Foscari, and Dulcino. Fosc. 
Did she receive my Letter with such joy?  Dulc. 
I want expression, my Lord, to give you  
The circumstance; with what a flowing love,  
Or rather, with what glad devotion  
She entertained it; at your very name,  
For so I guest, to which her covetous sight  
Made the first haste; one might have seen her heart  
Dance in her eyes, and as the wonder strove  
To make her pale, warm love did fortify  
Her cheeks with guilty blushes, she did read  
And kiss the paper often.  Fosc. 
This was before the Duke came thither?  Dulc. 
Yes, my Lord.  Fosc. 
And didst thou not  
Observe her at his presence slack that fervour  
Her former passion had begot of me?  
Was she not courtly to him, Boy?  Dulc. 
So far  
As her great birth and breeding might direct  
A Lady to behave herself to him, that was her Prince.  Fosc. 
She kissed him, did she not?  Dulc. 
She kissed.  Fosc. 
He did salute her?  Dulc. 
Yes, my Lord.  Fosc. 
And didst not see a flame hang on her lip,  
A spirit busy to betray her love,  
And in a sigh convey it to him? Oh  
Thou canst not read a woman. Did he not  
Woo her to be his Duchess?  Dulc. 
Yes, my Lord.  Fosc. 
Thou shouldst ha' watched her cheek then; there a blush  
Had been a guilt indeed, a feeble answer,  
With half a smile, had been an argument  
She had been lost, and the temptation  
Above her strength; which had I known, I could  
Have slept, and never been disturbed, although  
I had met her in a dream.  Dulc. 
My Lord, you wove a causeless trouble to yourself.  Fosc. 
Oh jealousy. I am ashamed—  Dulc. 
If ever any woman loved  
With faith, Cleona honours you above  
Mankind;▪ 'twere sin, but to suspect so chaste,  
So furnished with all virtue, your Cleona.  Fosc. 
It were indeed; I am too blame Dulcino;  
Yet when thou com'st to be so ripe, for so  
Much misery, as to love, thou wilt excuse me.  Dulc. 
My Lord, if I might not offend with my  
Opinion, it were safest that you lose  
No time, your presence would confirm a joy  
To either, and prevent the Duke, whose strong  
Solicits may in time endanger much  
The quiet of your thoughts.  Fosc. 
O never, never, and I will reward  
Her love beyond example: Thus Dulcino  
Thou shalt return.  Dulc. 
My Lord, I had much rather  
Write on you to her.  Fosc. 
Tush, thou understandest not  
What I have purposed, thou shalt presently  
Go back, and tell Cleona I am dead.  Dulc. 
How, dead?  Fosc. 
I boy, that I am dead: nay, mark the issue.  Dulc. 
But my Lord, she hath your Letter  
To check that.  Fosc. 
Thou shalt frame something to take  
That off, some fine invention may be made,  
To say 'twas forged, we'll study that anon,  
In the assurance of my death, which must  
Be so delivered, as she shall believe thee,  
She may affect the Duke.  Dulc. 
Ho sir, the Duke?  Fosc. 
ay, I, the Duke: for that's the plot, I must advance.  Dulc. 
And will you thus reward so great a love to you?  Fosc. 
Best, best of all,  
Shall I be so ungrateful to a Lady  
Of such rare merit, when a Prince desires  
To make her great? by my unworthy interest  
Destroy her blessings, hinder such a fortune  
From fair Cleona? Let her love the Duke;  
In this I will express the height and glory  
Of my best service.  Dulc. 
Are you sir in earnest?  Fosc. 
I love her, and can never see her more:  
Posterity shall learn new piety  
In love from me; it will become me look on  
Cleona a far off, and only mention  
Her name, as I do Angels in my prayer:  
Thus she deserves I should converse with her;  
Thus I most nobly love her.  Dulc. 
Doth she languish  
Expecting you, and shall I carry death  
To comfort her? good heaven forbid this Sir.  Fosc. 
Heaven doth engage me to it: she shall  
Reign glorious in power, while I let fall my Beads  
That she might prosper. Be not thou an enemy  
To her and me, but do it, or never see more.  Exit. Dulc. 
I'm lost i'th' springing of my hope, shall I  
Obey him, to destroy myself? I must,  
I dare not be myself; no need have they  
Of other force, that make themselves away?  Exit.   

ACTUS 3.  

SCAENA 1.  Enter Jacomo. jac. 
I smell a Match again: the Duke will fetch her about; here was another Ambassador at dinner, and his Highness is again expected: in confidence of my place that shall be, I will continue my state posture, use my Toothpick with discretion, and cough distinctly: what can hinder my rising? I am no Scholar, that exception is taken away; for most our Statesmen do hold it a saucy thing, for any of their Servants to be wiser than themselves.  Enter Dulcino. Dulc. 
Worthy Sir—  jac. 
My Lady shall be at leisure for you presently—  
It may be you would speak with me first?  Dulc. 
I only entreat my Lady may have knowledge  
That I wait here.  jac. 
I will enrich my Lady's understanding; I'll say nothing else, but that you are here, shall I? That's enough if you have another Letter.  Dulc. 
What then?  jac. 
I would wish you deliver it to her own hand: but under your favour, the Contents of the last Chapter had like to undone us all, and Cupid had not been more merciful.  Dulc. 
Fear nothing, the news I bring will make you merry.  jac. 
I'd laugh at that; howsoever you are heartily welcome, and ever shall be: You do hear no harm of the Duke?  Dulc. 
No harm?  jac. 
You shall hear more shortly: I say no more, but heaven bless my Lady and his Highness together, for my part, though I speak a proud word— I'll tell my Lady that you attend her.  Dulc. 
I prithee do, and hasten the discharge  
Of my sad Embassy, which when I have done,  
And that it prospers in mine own misfortune,  
I'll teach my breath to pray.  Enter Cleona, Fabrichio, Jacomo. Fabr. 
A glorious fate  
Courts your acceptance, and I hope your wisdom  
Will teach you how to meet it, you've received  
His Highness' bosom, now I'll take my leave.  Cleon. 
Will you not see the Prince again?  Fabr. 
I saw his highness walking with Grimundo  
Toward the garden, and the Duke expects me—  
Think of a Duchess Madam.  Cleon. 
I'm not worthy,  
And needs must sink under the weight of such  
A title; my humblest service to his grace,  
I am his beads-woman.  Exit Fabrichio. jac. 
Madam here's the youth.  Cleon. 
Art thou returned already? why were you  
So rude to make him wait?  Dul. 
Since I arrived  
'Tis but a pair of minutes.  Cleon. 
They are worth  
As many days.  jac. 
He shall be with your Ladyship  
Next time before he come; when I but spy him  
A mile off, I'll acquaint you in my duty  
To yourself, and my honour unto him.  Cleon. 
Withdraw.  jac. 
Here is no couth, I do not like  
My Lady's familiarity with a boy:  
Methinks a man were fitter, and more able  
To give her a refreshing: but this Lobby  
Shall be my next remove.  Exit, and stays behind the hangings. Dul. 
You will repent  
This welcome Madam.  Cleon. 
What harsh sound is that?  
Thy looks upon a sudden are become  
Dismal, thy brow dull as Satur's issue;  
Thy lips are hung with black, as if thy tongue  
Were to pronounce some funeral.  Dul. 
It is,  
But let your virtue place a guard about  
Your ear; it is too weak a sense to trust  
With a sad tale, that may disperse too soon  
The kill syllables, and some one or other  
Find out your heart.  Cleon. 
The Mandrake hath no voice  
Like this, the Raven and the night birds sing  
More soft, nothing in nature, to which fear  
Hath made us superstitious, but speak gently  
Compared with thee; discharge thy fatal burden,  
I am prepared, or stay but answer me,  
I will and save thy breath, and quickly know  
The total of my sorrow; is Foscari  
Dead since I saw thee last? or hath some wound,  
Or other dire misfortune sealed him for  
The grave? that though he yet live, I may bid  
My heart despair to see him.  Dulc. 
None of these,  
Since last I saw you Madam.  Cleon. 
None of these?  
Then I despise all sorrow boy, there is  
Not left another mischief in my Fate;  
Call home thy beauty, why dost look so pale?  
See I am armed, and can with valiant blood  
Hear thee discourse of my terror now;  
Methinks I can in the assurance of  
His safety, hear of Battles, Tempest, death,  
With all the horrid shapes that Poet's fancy;  
Tell me the tale of Troy or Rome on fire,  
Rich in the trophies of the conquered world,  
I will not shed so many tears to save  
The Temples, as my joy doth sacrifice  
To hear my Lord is well.  Dul. 
Turn them to grief  
Again, and here let me kneel, the accuser  
Of him, that hath deserved more punishment,  
Than your wronged piety will inflict.  Cleon. 
Dost kneel, and call thyself accuser?  Dulc. 
Yes.  Cleon. 
Of whom,  
Thy Lord? take heed, for if I be thy judge  
I shall condemn thee ere thou speak.  Dul. 
You may,  
But I accuse myself, and of an injury  
To you.  Cleon. 
To me?  Dulc. 
Too great to be forgiven.  Cleona. 
My love to him thou servest hath found a pardon  
Already for it; be it an offence  
Against my life.  Dulc. 
For his sake you must punish,  
Dear Madam, I have sinned against his ghost,  
In my deceiving you.  Cleon. 
His Ghost?  Dul. 
And if  
His soul had not forgotten how he loved you,  
I must expect him to affright my dreams,  
The truth is, my Lord is dead.  Cleon. 
How dead? when? where? did I  
Not hear thee say, since I received this letter,  
He was alive?  Dulc. 
No Madam.  Cleon. 
Be not impious.  Dul. 
I said that neither death, nor any black  
Misfortune had befallen him, since I gave  
The letter to you.  Cleon. 
Grant this truth, I am secured again.  Dul. 
Alas he was dead before,  
I'm sure you could not choose but hear as much,  
It was my wickedness arrived to mock  
Your credulous heart with a devised letter:  
I know you are in wonder what should move me  
To this imposture; sure it was no malice,  
For you ne'er injured me, and that doth make  
My crime the more deformed, all my aim was,  
Being a stranger here, and wanting means  
After my Lord's death, by this cunning to  
Procure some bounty from you to sustain  
My life, until by some good fortune, I  
Might get another Master, for I knew  
There was no hope to benefit myself  
By saying he was dead: good heaven forgive me,  
And keep my eyes from weeping,  Cleon. 
Thou hast undone me,  
Like a most cruel boy.  Dul. 
Madam I hope  
I shall repair the ruins of your eye,  
When I declare the cause that leads me to  
This strange confession; I have observed  
The Duke does love you, love you in that way,  
You can deserve him, and though I have sinned,  
I am not stubborn in my fault to suffer you  
In the belief of my deceitful story,  
To wrong your fortune by neglect of him  
Can bring your merit such addition  
Of state and title.  Cleon. 
Dost thou mock again?  Dul. 
Heaven knows I have no thought of such impiety,  
If you will not believe that for your sake  
I have betrayed myself, yet be so charitable,  
To think it something of my duty to  
The Duke, whose ends, while they are just and noble,  
All loyal subjects ought to serve for him,  
Whom I am not bound to honour, and I love him,  
Else may I never know one day of comfort;  
I durst not without guilt of treason to  
His chaste desires deceive you any longer:  
Collect yourself dear Madam, in the grave  
There dwells no music, in the Dukes embrace  
You meet a perfect happiness.  Cleon. 
Begun,  
And never see me more; who ever knew  
Falsehood so ripe at thy years?  Exit. Dul. 
Is not yet  
My poor heart broke? hath nature given it  
So strong a temper that no wound will kill me?  
What charm was in my gratitude to make me  
Undo so many comforts with one breath?  
Or was it for some sin I had to satisfy?  
I have not only widowed Cleona,  
But made myself a misery beneath  
An Orphan; I ne'er came to have a friend,  
I ha' destroyed my hope, that little hope  
I had to be so happy.  Jacomo comes forth. Jac. 
Is't e'en so?  
My friend what make you here? who sent for you? begun dye hear, begun I say the word too; there is a Porters lodge else, where you may have due chastisement, you'll begun.  Dule. 
I'm sorry  
I have offended Sir,  Exit. Dul. Jaec. 
So am not I;  
Let me see some body is dead, if I knew who, no matter 'tis one that my Lady loved, and I am glad to hear it for mine own sake; now Venus speed the Duke's plough, and turn me lose to a privy Councillor.  Enter Soranzo. Sor. 
Signior Jacomo, where's your Lady?  Jac. 
She is within my good Lord, wilt please you walk this way?  Sor. 
Prithee make haste, the Duke is coming.  Exeunt. Jac. 
I smell him hitherto.  Enter Jacomo presently. 
So so, I will take this opportunity to present myself to his Highness, that he may take particular notice of my bulk and personage, he may chance speak to me, I have common places to answer any ordinary question, and for other, he shall find by my impudence, I come not short of a perfect Courtier. Here he comes, I will dissemble some contemplation, and with my Hat on, give him cause to observe me the better.  Enter the Duke and Lords. Duk. 
What fellow's that?  Giot. 
A servant of Cleona's.  The Duke extends his hand, Jacomo kisses it. Fabr. 
Signior?  Jac. 
Your Highness humble creature, you have blessed my lips, and I will wear them threadbare with my prayers for your Grace's immortal prosperity.  Enter Soranzo. Duk. 
Soranzo is returned: How fares Cleona?  Sor. 
My Lord, not well, I found her full of sadness, which is increased, she cannot, as becomes her duty, observe your Highness.  Jac. 
One word with your Grace in private; she is as well, as either you or I  Duk. 
Sayest thou so?  Jac. 
There came indeed certain news before you, that a noble Gentleman, I know not who, and therefore he shall be nameless, but some dear friend of hers is dead, and that's all, and that hath put her into a melancholy mood; with your gracious pardon, if I were worthy to be one of your Counsellors.—  Duk. 
What then?  Jac. 
I would advise you, as others do, to take your own course; your Grace knows best what is to be done.  Duk. 
So sir: Didst thou not see the pretty boy I told thee of?  Sor. 
No my good Lord.  Duk. 
We are resolved to comfort her; set forward▪  Grim. 
You had simple grace.  jacom. 
A touch or so, a beam with which his Highness  
Doth use to keep desert warm: good my Lord, Exeunt.  
It is not come to that yet.  Enter Foscari and a Servant. Fosc. 
Go to the next religious house, and pray  
Some hosie father come and speak with me:  
But hasten thy Return. Exit Ser.  
I must not entertain with the same thought  
Cleona, and my love, lest my own passion  
Betray the Resolution I ha' made  
To make my service famous to all ages.  
A legend that may startle wanton blood,  
And strike a chillness in the active veins  
Of noblest lovers, when they hear, or read,  
That to advance a Mistress, I have given her  
From mine own heart, if any shall be so  
Impious at my memory, to say  
I could not do this act, and love her too,  
Some power divine, that knew how much I loved her,  
Some Angel that hath care to right the dead,  
Punish that crime for me, he is come. Enter Valentio, a religious man.  
Welcome good father;  
I sent to entreat your help, but first, pray tell me,  
I have no perfect memory, what Saint  
Gives title to your Order?  Ual. 
We do wear  
The Scapular of St. Bennet Sir.  Fosc. 
Your Charity  
Make you still worthy of that Reverend habit,  
I have a great devotion, to be made  
A brother of your sacrèd institution:  
What persons of great birth it hath received?  Ual. 
To fashion my Reply to your demand,  
Is not to boast, though I proclaim the honours  
Of our profession; four Emperors,  
Forty six Kings, and one and fifty Queens,  
Have changed their Royal Ermines for our sables,  
These Cowls have clothed the heads of fourteen hundred,  
And six King's sons, of Dukes, great Marquises,  
And Earls, two thousand and above four hundred  
Have turned their Princely Coronets, into  
An humble Coronet of hair left by  
The Razor thus.  Fosc. 
This, it is not.  
There is a Sun ten times more glorious,  
Than that which riseth in the East, attracts me  
To feed upon his sweet beams, and become  
A Bird of Paradise, a Religious man  
To rise from earth, and no more to turn back,  
But for a Burial.  Ual. 
Think what 'tis you do,  
It is nothing to play the wanton with,  
In the strong bended passion of an humour,  
For a friends death, a King's frown, or perhaps  
Loss of a Mistress.  Fosc. 
O still bless the guide  
Whatever, that shall lead this happy way.  Ual. 
My Lord, the truth is like your Coat of Arms,  
Richest when plainest; I do fear the world  
Hath tired you, and you seek a Cell to rest in,  
As Birds that wing it o'er the Sea, seek ships,  
Till they get breath, and then they fly away.  Fosc. 
Do not mistake a piety, I am prepared,  
And can endure your strict mortifications.  
Good Father then prefer my humble suit,  
To your Superior for the habit, and  
Let me not long expect you, say I am,  
Noble, but humblest in my thoughts.  Val. 
I go,  
Mean time examine well this new desire,  
Whether it be a wild flash, or a heavenly fire.  Exit. Fosc. 
Now my good Boy.  Enter Dulcino. Dulc. 
Sir, your command is done,  
And she believes?  Fosc. 
That I am dead Dulcino?  Dulc. 
That you are dead, and as she now scorned life  
Death lends her cheeks his paleness, and her eyes  
Tell down their drops of silver to the earth,  
Wishing her tears might Rain upon your Grave,  
To make the gentle earth produce some flower,  
Should bear your names and memories.  Fosc. 
But thou seest,  
I live Dulcino.  Dulc. 
Sir, I should be blessed,  
If I did see you sought the means to live,  
And to live happily, O noble sir  
Let me untread my steps, unsay my words,  
And tell your love, you live.  Fosc. 
No my sweet boy,  
She thinks not much amiss, I am a man  
But of an hour or two; my will is made  
And now I go, never more cheerfully,  
To give eternal farewell to my friends.  Dulc. 
For heaven's sake sir, what's this you mean to do?  
There is a fear sits cold upon my heart,  
And tells me—  Fosc. 
Let it not misinform thee boy;  
I'll use no violence to myself, I am  
Resolved a course, wherein I will not doubt,  
But thou wilt bear me company? we'll enter  
Into Religion.  Dulc. 
Into Religion?  Fosc. 
O'tis a heavenly life, go with me Boy,  
We'll imitate the singing Angels there,  
Learn how to keep a Choir in heaven, and scorn  
Earth's transitory glory; wilt Dulcino?  Dulc. 
Alas my Lord, I am too young.  Fosc. 
Too young  
To serve heaven? Never, never; O take heed  
Of such excuse.  Dulc. 
Alas, what shall I do?  
And yet I'm weary of the world, but how  
Can I do this? I am not yet discovered:  
Sir, I shall still attend you.  Fosc. 
Thou art my comfort,  
I have propounded it already, to  
A Benedictine, by whose means we may  
Obtain the habit; stay thou and expect him,  
I must be absent for a little time,  
To finish something, will conduce to my  
Eternal quiet, if thoust any scruple,  
He will direct thee, having both made even  
With earth, we'll travail hand in hand to heaven.  Exit. Dulc. 
Fortune hath lent me a prospective glass,  
By which I have a look beyond all joys,  
To a new world of misery, what's my best  
Let it be so, for I am hopeless now,  
And it were well, if when those weeds I have,  
That I might go disguised to my grave.  Exit. Enter Lodowick and Grimundo. Lodw. 
This is strange.  Grim. 
You know I have given you many precepts of honesty?  Lodw. 
And you know how I have followed 'em.  Grim. 
To mine own heart, I have made tedious discourses of heaven to ye, and the Moral Virtues, numbered up the duties of a good Prince, urged examples of virtues for your imitation.  Lodw. 
To much purpose.  Grim. 
Seemed to sweat with agony and vexation, for your obstinate courses reproved you, nay, sometimes made complaints of you to the Duke.  Lodw. 
And I ha'curst you for it, I remember.  Grim. 
Alas my Lord, I durst do no otherwise: was not the Duke your father an honest man? and your brother now foolishly takes after him, whose credulities, when I had already cozened, I was bound to appear Stoical, to preserve the opinion they had conceived of me.  Lodw. 
Possible.  Grim. 
It speaks discretion and abilities in Statesmen, to apply themselves to their Prince's disposition, vary a thousand shapes; if he be honest, we put on a formal of gravity; if he be vicious, we are Parasites. Indeed in a politic Commonwealth, all things are but Representation, and my Lord, howsoever I have appeared to you, I am at heart one of your own Sect, an Epicure; be but so subtle to seem honest, as I do, and we will laugh at the foolish world in our Cells, déclaim against intemperate livers, and hug our own licentiousness, while we surfeit our souls in the dark with Nectar and Ambrosia.  Lodw. 
Can this be earnest, you did talk of hell, and bugbears?  Grim. 
I confess, and were you in public, I would urge many other empty names to fright you, put on my holie-day countenance, and talk nothing but Divinity, and golden sentences.  Lodw. 
You were a Christian, how came you to be converted?  Grim. 
I think I had a name given me, and that's all I retain; I could never endure really their severe discipline: Marry for my preferment, and other politic ends, I have, and can still dispense with fasting, prayer, and a thousand fond austerities, though I do penance for 'em in private.  Lodw. 
Let me ask you one question, were you never drunk?  Grim. 
A thousand times in my study, that's one of my Recreations.  Lodw. 
How chance I could never see't in you? you know I would ha'been drunk for company.  Grim. 
But I durst not trust so young a sinner; for I always held it a maxim, to do wickedness with circumspection.  Lodw. 
Wickedness?  Grim. 
I speak in the phrase of the foolish world, that holds voluptuousness a crime, which you and I, and everie'wise man knows to be the only happiness of life, and the inheritance we are born to.  Lodw. 
But stay, how comes it to pass, that accounting me so young a sinner, you now adventure to discover yourself?  Grim. 
To you?  Lodw. 
To me.  Grim. 
Good my Lord conceive me, you were a young sinner, and in your Nonage, does that infer that you have made no growth, that you're a Child still, dye think that I ha' not wit to distinguish a Principiant in vice, from a Graduate, shall I be afraid to lay open my secret impieties to you, that are almost as perfect as myself in Epicurism?  Lodw. 
Very well, proceed.  Grim. 
And yet my Lord, with your Princely licence, you may learn too, and indeed the first virtue that I would commend to your practice, should be that, by which I have attained to this height, and opinion, and that's hypocrisy.  Lodw. 
Hypocrisy?  Grim. 
Yes, a delicate white Devil, do but fashion yourself to seem holy, and study to be worse in private, worse, you'll find yourself more active in your sensuality, and it will be another titillation, to think what an Ass you make a'the believing world, that will be ready to dote, nay, superstitiously adore you, for abusing them.  Lodw. 
This is pretty wholesome doctrine, and hark you, ha you no wenches now and then?  Grim. 
Wenches? would the Duke your brother had so many for his own sake, or you either.  Lodw. 
Hast i'faith?  Grim. 
Why judge by yourself, how dye think a Gentleman should subsist? I'll not give a Chip to be an Emperor, and I may not curvet as often as my constitution requires. Wenches, why I have as many— yet now I think better on't, I'll keep that to myself, store makes a good proverb.  Lodw. 
Nay, nay, be free and open to me, you have my oath not to betray.  Grim. 
Well, I'll not be nice to you, you little imagine (though I be married that I am the greatest Whoremaster i'th' Dukedom.  Lodw. 
Not the greatest?  Grim. 
Have a strong faith, and save my proofs; but Caute si non Cast, my Nun at home knows nothing, like a Mole in the earth, I work deep, but invisible; I have my private houses, my Granaries, my Magazine's Bully, as many Concubines, as would, collected, furnish the Great Turk's Seraglio.  Lodw. 
How do you conceal 'em? I should ne'er keep half so many, but 'twould be known.  Grim. 
You are then a Novice in the Art of Venus, and will tell Tales out o' the School, like your weak gallants o' the first Chin, that will brag what Ladies they have brought to their obedience, that think it a mighty honour, to discourse how many Forts they have beleaguered; how many they have taken by battery; how many by composition, and how many by stratagem: a fine commendation for young whelps, is't not?  Lodw. 
A fault, a fault; who can deny it? But what are those you practice with? A touch, come.  Grim. 
Not sale-ware, Mercenary stuff; but rich, fair, high-fed, glorious, Ladies of blood; whose eyes will make a soldier melt, and he were composed of marble; whose very smile hath a magnetic force to draw souls; whose voice will charm a satire, and turn a man's prayer into ambition.  Lodw. 
I have heard you; and now I think fit to discover myself to you: You are a Rascal.  Grim. 
Sir, I think I am one.  Lodw. 
Let not your Wisdom think, I can be so easily gulled.  Grim. 
How Sir?  Lodw. 
You think you have talked very methodically, and cunningly all this while, and that I am, as they say, a credulous Coxcomb, and cannot perceive, that by your politic jeers upon my pleasures, you labour to discredit, not only my recreations, but myself to my own face: D'ye hear? the time may come you will not dare these things, and yet you shall see, I will not now so much as seem angry: preserve your humour, 'twill appear fresh o'th'Stage, my learned Gymnosophist; very well, excellent well.  Grim. 
Why does not your Lordship believe me then?  Lodw. 
Dost thou think throughout the year, I will lose one minute of my pastime, for this your toothless satire? I'll to a Wench presently.  Grim. 
I came to carry you to one.  Lodw. 
How, thou?  Grim. 
Do not deceive yourself; come, you shall believe, and thank me: go with me, and I will demonstrate.  Lodw. 
Whither?  Grim. 
I'll carry you to a Lady; be not afraid, she is honest; such a charming brow, speaking eye, springing cheek, tempting lip, swelling bosom.  Lodw. 
Will you lead me to such a creature?  Grim. 
Yes.  Lodw. 
And shall I?  Grim. 
And think yourself richer, than to be Lord of both the Indies; here's my hand, cut it off, if I do not this feat for you when you please; and when you are satisfied with her, I'll help you to forty more: but we are interrupted.  Enter Giotto, Soranzo. Giot. 
There he is with Grimundo.  Sor. 
His late Governor, he is giving him good counsel.  Giot. 
Pray heaven he have the grace to follow it.  Grim. 
Consider Sir, what will be the end  
Of all these wicked courses.  Lodw. 
Precious Tutor.  Grim. 
We must be circumspect.  Lodw. 
No more: I have a crotchet new sprung:  
Where shall I meet thee?  Grim. 
I'll expect you in the Park— be very secret.  
My Lord, I can but grieve for you.  Exit. Lodw. 
How have we all been cozened?  
What, is my Brother here?  Sor. 
This hour, my Lord, he is now upon return.  Lodw. 
I'll see him, and then prepare me for this Lady.  
I feel a boiling in my veins already;  
This is the life of greatness, and of Court;  
They're fools that will be frighted from their sport.  Exeunt.   

ACTUS 4.  

SCAENA 1.  Enter Lodowick and Piero. Lodw. 
Do't and thou lov'st me.  Pier. 
What d'ye mean, my Lord?  Lodw. 
Nay, we must have such a deal of circumstance; I say, do it.  Pier. 
What, that?  Lodw. 
That: is that such a piece of matter, does it appear so horrid in your imagination, that you should look as if you were frighted now?  Pier. 
My Lord, it is—  Lodw. 
A thing your heat will prompt you to, but that you affect ceremony, and love to be entreated.  Pier. 
With your Lady?  Lodw. 
Yet again: you have not been observed so dull in a business of this supple nature.  Pier. 
But think on'c again; I pray you think a little better: I ha' no great ambition to ha' my throat cut.  Lodw. 
By whom?  Pier. 
By you; you cannot choose but kill me for't when I have done. Your Lady?  Lodw. 
Is your mountainous promise come to this? Remember; if I do not turn honest—  Pier. 
My Lord, do but consider— well, I will do what I can, and there be no remedy— but  Lodw. 
Never fear it, for if thou canst but corrupt her, I'll sue a Divorce presently.  Pier. 
And bring me in for a witness?  Enter Astella. Lodw. 
She's here; fear nothing, I'll be thy protection; it were not amiss to cast away some kindness upon her: nay, I was coming to take my leave.  Ast. 
I know you never meant it.  Lodw. 
Thus my best intents are rewarded still, the more sin upon your conscience; you've a hard heart, but heaven forgive us all: Astella farewell; Piero expect my return here— pray entertain this Gentleman courteously in my absence, you know not how kindly I may take it.  Ast. 
I would you would enjoin me any testimony,  
So I may be in hope to win your love.  Lodw. 
'Tis in the will of women to do much; do not despair; the proudest heart is but flesh, think a that.  Ast. 
Of what?  Lodw. 
Of flesh; and so I leave you.  Exit. Pier. 
Will't please you Madam walk into your Chamber?  
I have something to impart will require more privacy.  Ast. 
If it be grief 'tis welcome.  Exeunt. Enter Duke and Lords. Giot. 
Please your Highness,  
A Stranger, but some Gentleman of quality,  
Intending to leave Savoy, humbly prays  
To kiss your hand.  Duk. 
A Gentleman: admit him.  Enter Foscari disguised, and kisses the Duke's hand. Fosc. 
You are a gracious Prince, and this high favour  
Deserves my Person and my Sword, when you  
Vouchfafe so much addition to this honour,  
To call them to your service.  Duk. 
You are Noble.  Fosc. 
It is not compliment my Lord alone,  
Made me thus bold; I have a private message,  
Please you command their distance.  Duk. 
Wait without.  Fosc. 
Have you forgot this face?  Duk. 
Foscari's shadow.  Fosc. 
The substance, Sir, and once more at your feet.  Duk. 
Returned to life. Rise; meet cut arms: why in  
This Cloud?  Fosc. 
Your pardon, Royal Sir; it will  
Concern your Highness to permit me walk  
In some Eclipse.  Duk. 
How?  Fosc. 
I said I had a message:  
I come from Cleona.  Duk. 
From Cleona?  Fosc. 
And in her name I must  
Propound a question; to which she prays  
You would be just and noble in your answer.  Duk. 
Without disputing your Commission,  
Upon mine honour—  Fosc. 
Prince's cannot slain it: D'ye love her;  Duk. 
Do I love her? Strange.  Fosc. 
Nay, she would have you pause, and think well e'er  
You give her resolution; for she bid me tell you,  
She has been much afflicted since you left her, about your love.  Duk. 
About my love? I prithee be more particular.  Fosc. 
I shall: So soon as you were gone, being alone, and full  
Of melancholy thoughts.  Duk. 
I left her so.  Fosc. 
Willing to ease her head upon her Couch,  
Through silence, and some friendship of the dark,  
She fell asleep, and in a short dream thought  
Some Spirit told her softly in her ear,  
You did but mock her with a smoo h pretence  
Of love.  Duk. 
Ha?  Fosc. 
More; that you were fallen from honour,  
Have taken impious flames into your bosom;  
That you're a bird of prey, and while she hath  
No household Lar, to wait upon her threshold,  
You would fly in, and seize upon her honour.  Duk. 
I hope she hath no faith in dreams.  Fosc. 
She cannot tell; she hath some fears, my Lord;  
Great men have left examples of their vice:  
If you but once more say you love Cleona,  
And speak it unto me, and to the Angels,  
Which in her prayers she hath invoked to hear you,  
She will be confident.  Duke. 
Though I need not  
Give an account to any, but to heaven  
And her fair self. Foscari thou shalt tell her  
With what alacrity I display my heart:  
I love her with chaste and noble fire; my intents are  
Fair as her brow: tell her I dare proclaim it  
In my devotions, at that minute when  
I know a millon of adoring Spirits  
Hover about the Altar: I do love her—  Fosc. 
Enough: my Lord, be pleased to hear  
What I have now to say; You have expressed  
A brave and virtuous soul, but I must not  
Carry this message to her; therefore take  
Your own words back again— for, I love Cleona  
With chaste and noble fire; my intents are  
Fair as her brow: I dare proclaim it Sir  
In my devotions, at that minute when  
I know a million of adoring Spirits  
Hover about the Altar.  Duk. 
Do ye mock me?  Fosc. 
Pardon a truth, my Lord: I have apparelled  
My own sense with your language.  Duk. 
Do you come  
To affront us? you had better ha' been sleeping  
In your cold Urn, as fame late gave you out,  
And mingled with the rude forgotten ashes,  
Than live to move our anger.  Fosc. 
Spare your frowns: it is not breath  
Can fright a noble truth; nor is there Magic  
I'th' person of a King.  Duk. 
You threaten us.  Fosc. 
Heaven avert so black a thought;  
Though in my honour's cause I can be flame,  
My blood is frost to treason; yet I must tell you,  
I love Cleona too; and I may say  
You reach not my affection: I admit  
You value her above your Dukedom, health;  
That you would sacrifice your blood to avert  
Any mishap should threaten that dear head;  
All this is but above yourself: but I  
Love her above herself; and while you can  
But give your life, and all you have to do  
Cleona service, I can give away  
Herself, Cleona's self, in my love to her.  
I see you are at loss; I'll reconcile  
All, she is yours, this minute ends my claim;  
Live, and enjoy her happily; may you be  
Famous in that beauteous Empire; She,  
Blessed in so great a Lord.  Duk. 
I must not be  
O'ercome in honour; nor would do so great  
A wrong to enjoy the blessing; I knew not  
You were engaged.  Fosc. 
ere you proceed, I must  
Beseech you hear me out: I am but fresh  
Returned from travail; in my absence, she  
Herd I was slain; at my return, upon  
The hearing of these honours you intent her,  
And which I now believe from your own lip,  
I found a means, and have wrought her already  
Into a firm belief that I am dead:  
(For I have but pretended I came from her)  
If for my sake you leave her now, I can  
Make good her faith and die; 't shall not be said,  
I lived and overthrew Cleona's fortune.  Duk. 
Stay miracle of honour, and of love.  Fosc. 
If you proceed, as it concerns your happiness,  
I can secure all fear of me; I am  
Resolved a course wherein I will be dead  
To her, yet live to pray for her and you,  
Although I never see you more: will you  
My Royal Lord.  Duk. 
Did ever Lover plead  
Against himself before?  Fosc. 
I love her still,  
And in that study her advancement, Sir,  
In you: I cannot give her.  Duk. 
Well, I will still love her, and solicit.  Fosc. 
And not open that I am living.  Duk. 
Not a syllable.  Fosc. 
I am confident, let me but kiss your hand  
Again: my blessings dwell with you for ever.  Exit. Duk. 
He was always noble; but this passion  
Has outgone History: it makes for me:  
Hail to my courteous fate; Foscari thanks;  
Like th' aged Phoenix thy old love expires,  
And from such death springs life to my desires.  Exit. Enter Dulcino. Dulc. 
The Father is not come yet; nor my Lord  
Returned; yet when they do, I have no way  
To help myself; nor have I power to go  
From hence: sure this is the Religious Man.  Enter Valentio. Val. 
Ha, 'tis the same.  Dulc. 
Father Valentio?  Val. 
Dear Leonora?  Dulc. 
Sir, the same.  Val. 
Oh let  
My tears express my joys, what miracle  
Gave you this liberty?  Dulc. 
I was rescued  
By th' happy valour of a Gentleman,  
To whom in gratitude I pay this service:  
He bid me here expect a holy man; and is it you?  Val. 
The circumstance confirms it.  Dulc. 
Are you the good man whom my Lord expects?  
'Tis some refreshing in the midst of sorrow  
To meet again.  Val. 
And heaven hath heard my prayer.  Dulc. 
But I am miserable still, unless  
Your counsel do relieve me.  Val. 
Why my charge?  Dulc. 
This noble Gentleman, to whom I owe  
My preservation, who appointed you  
To meet him here, having resolved to enter  
Into Religion, hath been very urgent  
For me to do so too; and overcome  
With many importunities, I gave  
Consent, not knowing what was best to do:  
Some cure, or I am lost; you know I cannot  
Mix with religious men.  Ual. 
Did you consent?  Dulc. 
I did, and he is now upon the point  
Of his return.  Val. 
YE are in a strait I must  
Confess; no matter, hold your purpose, and  
Leave all to me. He is returned.  Enter Foscari. Fosc. 
Good Father,  
Now I am ready; have you disposed him for such a life?  Val. 
He is constant to attend you,  
I have prepated him, and made way to the Abbot  
For your reception.  Fosc. 
I am blessed, Dulcino,  
Nay no distinction now, methinks we move  
Upon the wings of Cherubims already;  
'Tis but a step to heaven; come my sweet Boy,  
We climb by a short Ladder to our joy. Exeunt.  Enter Lodowick and Grimundo. Grim. 
This, my Lord, is her Garden, into which you see  
My Key hath given us a private access.  Lodw. 
'Tis full of curiosity.  Grim. 
You see that Grove.  Lodw. 
I do.  Grim. 
There is her house of pleasure: let your eye  
Entertain some delight here, while I give her happy  
Knowledge you are entered.  Exit. Lodw. 
Do so; an honest knave, I see that: how  
Happy shall I be in his conversation? I sha' not  
Need to keep any in fee to procure, and he be  
So well furnished: if ever I come to be Duke, I will  
Erect a magnificent College; endow it  
With Revenue to maintain Wenches, and  
With great Pensions invite the fairest Ladies  
From all parts of Christendom into my Seraglio;  
Then will I have this fellow gelded, and make him  
My chief Eunuch ranger, or overseer of all  
My precious tame Fowl.  Enter 3 like Satyrs, and lie down. 
How now? what's this, some Fury asleep? I'll take another path; another? into what wilderness has this Fire-drake brought me? I dare not cry out for fear of waking 'em: would Grimundo were come back.  Enter one like Silvanus. Silu. 
Rise you drowsy Satyrs, rise;  
What strong charm doth bind your eyes?  
See who comes into your Grove,  
To embrace the Queen of Love;  
Leap for joy, and frisk about,  
Find your pretty Dryads out;  
Hand in hand compose a ring,  
Dance and circled your new King;  
Him, Silvanus must obey, Satyrs rise and run in.  
Hence, and cry a holiday.  Exit▪ Lodw. 
Some Mask; a device to entertain me, ha? And yet I see not how they should prepare so much ceremony, unless they had expected me. A curse upon their ill faces; they shook me at first: how now?  Enter Satyr's pursuing Nymphs, they dance together. Exeunt Satyrs, 3 Nymph's seem to entreat him to go with them. 
Have ye no tongues? yes I will venture myself in your company, and you were my destinies; would there were no worse in hell, must I walk like a bride too, fortune set on afore then, and thou dost not guide into a handsome place, would thy eyes were out, and so thou mayst be taken for the blind goddess indeed; forward to Venus' Temple.  Exit. Recorders. Enter again where the Nymphs suddenly leave him, a banquet brought in. Lod. 
Vanished like Fairies? Ha, what musics this? the motion of the Spheres, or am I in Elysium?  Enter Grimundo, bare, leading Belinda richly attired, and attended by Nymphs. 
Here is Grimundo, ha? what glorious creatures this commits a rape upon my senses on every side, but when I look on her, all other admirations are forgot, and lessen in her glory.  Bel. 
My Lord you're welcome; most welcome.  Grim. 
I have kept my word Sir.  Lod. 
Thou hast obliged my soul.  Gri. 
Be high and frolic, she loves to see one  
Domineer; when you're throughly acquainted you'll  
Give me thanks.  Lodw. 
Let us be private with at much speed as may be;  
Away with those gossips, so, so. Exeunt all but Lodowick and Belinda.  
I forgot to ask her name: Lady am come.  Bel. 
Wilt please you use that chair?  Lodw. 
You are not ignorant  
Of the intents my blood hath brought with me,  
Grimundo I hope hath told my coming Lady.  
And you I'm confident will justify his promise  
Of some pastime.  Bel. 
He's a servant,  
Whose bosom I dare trust the son of night,  
And yet more secret than his mother, he  
Hath power to engage me, and I shall  
Take pride in my obedience; first be pleased  
To taste, what in my duty I prepared  
For your first entertainment; these but serve  
To quicken appetite.  Lodw. 
I like this well, Recorders.  
I sha' not use much Courtship, where's this music?  Bel. 
Doth it offend your ear?  Lodw. 
'Tis ravishing, whence doth it breath?  Bel. 
If you command, we'll change  
A thousand airs, till you find one is sweet  
And high enough to rock your wanton soul  
Into Elysian slumbers.  Lodw. 
Spare them all,  
I hear 'em in thy accents.  Bel. 
Orpheus'  
Calliopes famed son, upon whose Lute  
Myriads of lovers ghosts do wait and hang  
Upon the golden strings to have their own  
Griefs softened with his noble touch, shall come  
Again from hell with fresh and happier strains  
To move your fancy.  Lodw. 
That were very strange,  
She is Poetical, more than half a fury:  
But we prate all this while, and lose the time  
We should employ more preciously; I need  
No more provocations, my veins are rich,  
And swell with expectations: shall we to  
This vaulting business?  Bel. 
I shall hope my Lord  
You will be silent in mine honour, when  
You have enjoyed me, and not boast my name  
To your disgrace, nor mine.  Lodw. 
Your name, why Lady?  
By my desires I know it not: I hope  
You have received a better character,  
Than to suspect my blabbing: I'll not trust  
My Ghostly Father with my sins, much less  
Your name.  Bel. 
O let me fly into your arms,  
These words command my freedom; I shall love  
You above myself, and to confirm how much  
I dare repose upon your faith, I'll not  
Be nice to tell you who I am.  Lod. 
Pray do.  Bel. 
I am a Princess.  Lod. 
How?  Bel. 
Believe me sit.  Lod. 
I'm glad a that, but of what Country Lady?  Bel. 
And my dominions are more spreading than  
Your brothers.  Lod. 
Ha? that's excellent; if the Villain  
Do prosper with my wife, I'll marry her.  Bel. 
I was not born to perch upon a Dukedom,  
Or some such spot of earth, which the dull eyes  
Examine by a magnifying glass,  
And wonder at; the Roman Eagles never  
Did spread their wings upon so many shores,  
The silver Moon of Ottomon looks pale  
Upon my great Empire; Kings of Spain,  
That now may boast their ground, doth stretch as wide  
As day, are but poor Landlords of a Cell,  
Compared to mine inheritance; the truth is,  
I am the Devil.  Lod. 
How a Devil?  Bel. 
Yes.  
Be not affrighted Sir, you see I bring  
No horror to distract you: if this presence  
Delight you not, I'll weary a thousand shapes  
To please my Lord.  Lodw. 
Shapes quotha.  Bel. 
Do not tremble.  Lodw. 
A Devil? I see her cloven foot: I ha' not  
The heart to pray, Grimundo has undone me.  Bel. 
I did command my spirits to put on  
Satyrs, and Nymphs to entertain you first,  
Whiles other in the air maintained a choir  
For your delight: why do you keep such distance  
With one that loves you? Recollect yourself,  
You came for pleasure, what doth fright my love?  
See I am covetous to return delight,  
And satisfy your lustful genius:  
Come let us withdraw, and on the bed prepared  
Beget a Race of smooth and wanton Devils—  Lod. 
Hold, come not near me; ha? now I compare  
The circumstances, they induce me to  
A sad belief, and I had breath enough  
I would ask a question.  Bel. 
Any thing, and be  
Resolved.  Lod. 
How came Grimundo and your Devilship  
Acquainted?  Bel. 
He hath been my Agent long,  
And hath deserved for his hypocrisy,  
And private sins, no common place in hell,  
He's now my favourite, and we enjoy  
Each other daily; but he never did  
By any service more endear my love,  
Than by this bringing you to my acquaintance,  
Which I desired of him long since, with many  
And fierce solicit, but he urged his fear,  
You were not ripe enough in sin for his  
Discovery.  Lod. 
I feel myself dissolve  
In sweat.  Bel. 
My Lord, I must acknowledge, I  
Have ever had you in my first regard  
Of any mortal sinner, for you have  
The same propension with me, though with  
Less malice, spirits of the lower world  
Have several offices assigned; some are  
To advance pride, some avarice, some wrath;  
I am for lust, a gay voluptuous Devil,  
Come le's embrace, for that I love my Lord,  
Do, and command a Regiment of hell,  
They all are at your service.  Lod. 
O my soul!  Bel. 
Beside my Lord, it is another motive  
To honour you, and by my chains which now  
I have left behind, it makes me grow enamoured;  
Your wife that says her prayers at home, and weeps  
Away her fight; O let me hug you for it,  
Despise her vows still, spurn her tears again  
Into her eyes, thou shalt be Prince in hell,  
And have a Crown of flames, brighter than that  
Which Ariadne wears of fixed stars;  
Come shall we dally now?  Lod. 
My bones within  
Are dust already, and I wear my flesh  
Like a loose upper garment.  Bel. 
You're afraid,  
Be not so pale at Liver, for I see  
Your blood turns coward, how would you be frighted  
To look upon me clothed with all my horror,  
That shudder at me now? call up your spirit.  Lod. 
There are too many spirits here already,  
Would thou wert conjured, what shall I do?  Bel. 
What other than to bathe your soul in pleasure,  
And never heard of Ravish; we two  
Will progress through the air in Venus' Chariot,  
And when her silver Doves grow faint and tyre,  
Cupid and Mercury shall lend us wings,  
And we will visit new worlds when we are  
Weary of this, we both will back the winds,  
And hunt the Phoenix through the Arabian Deserts,  
Her we will spoil of all her shining plumes,  
To make a blazing Coronet for thy Temples,  
Which from the earth beheld, shall draw up wonder,  
And puzzle learned Astronomy to distinguish it  
From some new Constellation, the Sea  
Shall yield us pastime, when enveloped  
With clouds blacker than night, we range about;  
And when with storms we overthrow whole Navies,  
We'll laugh to hear the Mariners exclaim  
In many thousand shipwrecks; what do I  
Urge these particulars? let us be one soul,  
Air, earth, and hell is yours.  Lod. 
I have a suit,  
But dare not speak.  Bel. 
Take courage, and from me  
Be confident to obtain.  Lod. 
I am not well,  
The name of Dill came too quick upon me,  
I was not well prepared for such a sound,  
It turned my blood to Ice, and I ha' not  
Recovered so much warmth yet, to desire  
The sport I came for; would you please but to  
Dismiss for me a time, I would return  
When I have heat and strength enough for such  
A sprightful action.  Bel. 
I do find your cunning,  
You pretend this excuse but to gain time,  
In hope you may repent.  Lod. 
And please your Grace  
Not I.  Bel. 
You will acquaint some Priest or other,  
A tribe of all the world I most abhor,  
And they will fool you with their Ghostly counsel,  
Perplex you with some fond Divinity,  
To make you lose the glories I have promised.  Lod. 
I could never abide such melancholy people.  Bel. 
In this I must betray, we spirits we have  
No perfect knowledge of men's thoughts; I see  
Your bloods enfeebled, and although my love  
Be infinite, and every minute I  
Shall languish in your absence, yet your health  
I must preserve, 'tis that feeds my hopes,  
Hereafter I shall perfectly enjoy thee;  
You will be faithful, and return.  Lod. 
Suspect not.  Bel. 
One kiss shall seal consent.  Lod. 
Her breath smells on brimstone.  Bel. 
For this time I'll dismiss you— do not pray,  
A spirit shall attend you.  Lod. 
Do not pray, when did I last? I know not, farewell horror,  
He wants a wench that goes to the Devil for her.  Exeunt.   

ACTUS. 5.  

SCAENA. 1.  Enter Astella and Piero. Ast. 
Touch me not Villain, piety defend me,  
Art thou a man, or have I all this while  
Conversed with some ill Angel in the shape  
Of my Lord's friend.  Pier. 
What needeth all this stir,  
I urge your benefit.  Astel. 
To undo my name,  
Nay soul for ever with one act.  Pier. 
One act;  
There be those Ladies that have acted it  
A hundred times, yet think themselves as good  
Christians as other women, and do carry  
As much opinion too for virtue.  Astel. 
Heaven.  Pier. 
What harm can there be in't, can you neglect  
Revenge so just, so easy, and delightful?  Ast. 
Thy breath doth scatter an infection.  Pier. 
Scatter a toy, be wise, and lose no time,  
You know not when such opportunitle  
May tempt you to't again; for my own part  
I can but do you a pleasure in't, your blood  
Should need no other argument.  Ast. 
I'll sooner  
Empty my veins, not to redeem thy soul,  
Should sin betray mine honour to one loose  
Embrace: hence Traitor, I do feel corruption  
I'th' air already, it will kill me if  
I stay: hereafter I'll not wonder how  
My Lord became so wicked.  Pier. 
You will lead me  
To some more private Room, I'll follow Madam.  Exeunt Enter jacomo. jac. 
More private Room said he? I smell a business, I thought this Gamester had been gone, is it e'en so, have at your Burrow Madam, he's a shrewd Ferret I can tell you, and just in the nick here comes the Warrener.  Enter Lodowick. Lod. 
This Devil does not follow me, nor any of her Cubs I hope, I'm glad I came off so well, I never was so hot to engender with the Nightmare; could Grimundo find no other creature for my coupling but a Succubus, methinks I smell the fiend still.  jac. 
He talks on her already.  Lod. 
I am very jealous.  jac. 
Not without a cause my Lord.  Lod. 
Ha? there she is again.  jac. 
No my Lord, she is new gone into the withdrawing chamber.  Lod. 
Ha? who? who is gone?  jac. 
A Gentlewoman that you were late in company with.  Lod. 
The Devil? look well about you then, a spirit  
Of her constitution will set the house on fire  
Instantly, and make a young hell on't, when  
Came she? I shall be everlastingly haunted  
With goblin, art sure thou sawest her?  jac. 
Saw her, yes, and him too.  Lod. 
Grimundo?  jac. 
No not Grimundo, but I saw another Gentleman  
That has been held a notable spirit,  
Familiar with her.  Lod. 
Spirit and familiar.  jac. 
Piero my Lord.  Lod. 
Piero?  jac. 
I wonot say what I think, but I think somewhat▪  
And I know what I say, if she be a Devil, as she  
Can be little less, if she be as bad as I imagine,  
Some body's head will ache for't, for mine own  
Part I did but see and hear, that's all, and  
Yet I ha' not told you half.  Lod. 
Let me collect, sure this fellow by th' circumstance  
Means Astella; thou talkest all this while of my Lady  
Dost not?  jac. 
Yes my Lord, she is all the Ladies in the house;  
For my Lady and Mistress was sent for  
To the Abbey.  Lod. 
I had forgotten myself, this is new horror,  
Is my Lady and Piero so familiar sayest, and  
In private?  jac. 
What I have said, I have said; and what they have  
Done, they have done by this time.  Lod. 
Done? and I'll be active too.  jac. 
Show what feats of activity you please. Ex. Lod.  
So so, now I am alone, which is, as  
The learned say, Solus cum sola, I will entertain  
Some honourable thoughts of my preferment. Enter Pier.  
Hum, the Gamester is returned; what melancholy? then.  
He has done't, I'll lay my head to a fools Cap on'c,  
I was always so myself after my capering.  
Did you not meet the Prince sir?  Pier. 
No, where is he?  jac. 
He was here but now, and enquired how his Lady did, and I told him you could tell the state of her body better than I. for—  Pier. 
I did but see her.  jac. 
That's not the right on't, it runs for I did but kiss her, for  
I did but kiss her.  Pier. 
It was enough for me to kiss her hand.  
I am suspected, I must turn this fools discourse  
Another way, the present theme is dangerous:  
What I hear say jacomo, your Lady is like to rise?  jac. 
My Lady does rise as early as other Ladies do that go to bed late.  Pier. 
And there will be a notable preferment for you.  jac. 
'Tis very likely my Lady understands herself.  Pier. 
There is a whisper abroad.  jac. 
'Tis a good hearing.  Pier. 
What if she be married in this absence?  jac. 
Very likely; I say notthing, but I think I know my Lady's secrets for the triumph, as pageants, or running at tilt, you may hear more shortly, there may be Reasons of State to have things carried privately, they will break out in Bells and Bonfires hereafter; what their Graces have intended for me I conceal.  Pier: 
He is wound up already.  jac. 
You are a Gentleman I shall take particular notice of.  Pier. 
But what if after all this imagination of a marriage, fortune should forbid the banes?  jac. 
How? fortune's a slut, and because she is a whore herself, would have no Lady marry and live honest.  Enter Lodw. Lod. 
Piero, where's Piero?  Pier. 
Ha my Lord I ha' done't.  Lod. 
Ha, what?  Pier. 
I ha' pleased thy excellence, and you had made more haste, you might a come to the fall a'th'Deer.  Lod. 
thoust not enjoyed her?  Pier. 
They talk of jupiter, and a golden shower,  
Give me a Mercury with wit and tongue,  
He shall charm more Ladies on their backs,  
Than the whole bundle of gods pshaw.  Lod. 
Shoot not so much compass, be brief and answer me; hast thou enjoyed her?  Pier. 
I have, shall I swear?  Lod. 
No, thou wilt be damned sufficiently without an oath; in the mean time I do mean to reward your nimble diligence: draw.  Pier. 
What dye mean?  jac. 
And you be so sharpset I do mean to withdraw.  Exit. Lod. 
I do mean to cut your throat, or perish i'th' attempt, you see your destiny, my birth and spirit won't let me kill thee in the dark; draw, and be circumspect.  Pier. 
Did not you engage me to it? have I done any thing but by your directions? my Lord.  Lod. 
'Tis all one, my mind is altered, I will see what complexion your heart bears; if I hit upon the right vein, I may cure your disease a'th' blood.  Pier. 
Hold, and there be no remedy, I will die better than I ha' lived; you shall see sir that I dare fight with you, and if I fall by your sword, my base consent to act your will deserves it.  Lod. 
Ha?  Pier. 
I find your policy, and by this storm  
You'd prove my Resolution, how boldly I  
Dare stand to't when this great  
Dishonour comes to question, prepare  
To be displeased— she is a miracle  
Of Chastity, impenetrable like  
A marble, she returned my sinful arrows,  
And they have wounded me; forgive me Lady.  Lod. 
I prithee tell me true; now thou shalt swear,  
Hast thou not done't.  Pier. 
Not by my hope of heaven  
Which I had almost forfeited, had not she  
Relieved me with her virtue; in this truth  
I dare resign my breath.  Lodw. 
I dare believe thee:  
What did I see in her to doubt her firmness?  Enter Jacomo and Astella. jac. 
Here they are Madam, you do not mean to  
Run upon their weapons.  Lodw. 
Piero thou shalt wonder.  Ast. 
What means my Lord?  Lodw. 
You shall know that anon;  
My Lady go with me.  Ast. 
Wither you please,  
You shall not need to force me sir, you may  
Led me with gossamer, or the least thread  
The industrious Spider weaves.  jac. 
Whimsies.  Pier. 
What fury thus transport him at some distance,  
I'll follow him, he may intend some violence,  
She is too good to suffer, I shall grow  
In love with my conversion.  Exit. jac. 
Grow in love with a Coxcomb, his last words  
Stick on my stomach still fortune forbid the banes  
Quotha slid if fortune, should forbid the banes,  
And my Lady be not converted into a Duchess  
Where are all my offices?  Exit. Recorders, Chairs prepared. Enter Soranzo, Giotto. Sor. 
Know you not who they are my Lord this day  
Receive the habit?  Gio. 
I can meet with no intelligence.  Sor. 
They are persons of some quality—  Gio. 
The Duke does mean to grace their Ceremony.  Sor. 
He was invited by the Abbot to their clothing.  Gio. 
Which must be in private too, here in his lodgings.  Sor. 
Well we shall not long expect 'em, his Grace enters.  Enter Duke, Grimundo. Gri. 
It helped much that he never saw my wife.  Duk. 
Dost think 'twill take?  Gri. 
There's some hope my Lord already,  
And heaven may prosper it.  Duk. 
We cannot endear thee to thy merit.  Sor. 
How the Duke embraces him.  Enter Cleona attended. Duk. 
Cleona you are welcome, 'tis a blessed  
Occasion that makes us meet so happily.  Cleon. 
It pleased my Lord Abbot to invite me hither.  Duk. 
I appeared too upon his friendly summons,  
We'll thank him for this presence.  Sor. 
The Abbot enters.  Enter the Abbot, attended with Religious men, having bowed to the Duke, he taketh a Chair; being sat, Valentio goes out, and presently enters, leading Foscari and Dulcino in St. Bennets habit, he presents them, they kneel at the Abbot's feet. Abb. 
Speak your desire.  Fosc. 
We kneel to be received into the number  
Of those Religious men that dedicate  
Themselves to heaven i'th'habit of St. Bennet,  
And humbly pray that you would rectify  
And teach our weak devotion the way  
To imitate his life, by giving us  
The precepts of your order.  Abbot. 
Let me tell you,  
You must take heed the ground of your Resolve  
Be perfect; yet look back into the spring  
Of your desires, Religious men should be  
Tapers, first lighted by a holy beam:  
Meteors may shine like stars, but are not constant.  Fosc. 
We covet not the blaze, which a corrupt  
And slimy matter may advance, our thoughts  
Are flamed with charity.  Abb. 
Yet ere you embark,  
Think on your hard adventure, there is more  
To be examined beside your end,  
And the Reward of such an undertaking;  
You look on heaven afar off, like a landscape,  
Whether wild thoughts like your imperfect eye,  
Without examination of those ways,  
Oblique and narrow are transported, but  
I'th' walk and trial of the difficulties  
That interpose, you tyre like inconsiderate  
And weary Pilgrims.  Fosc. 
We desire to know  
The Rules of our obedience.  Abb. 
They will startle  
Your Resolutions; can your will, not used  
To any Law beside itself, permit  
The knowledge of severe and positive limits?  
Submit to be controlled, employed sometime  
In servile offices, against the greatness  
Of your high birth and sufferance of nature?  
Can you, forgetting all youthful desire,  
And memory of the world's betraying pleasures,  
Check wanton heat, and consecrate your blood  
To Chastity, and holy solitude?  Sor. 
I wonot be Religious Giotto.  Giot. 
Nor I, upon these terms, I pity 'em.  Abb. 
Can you quit all the glories of your state,  
Resign your titles and large wealth, to live  
Poor and neglected, change high food and surfeits  
For a continual fasting, your down-beds  
For hard and humble lodging, your gilt Roofs  
And Galleries for a melancholy Cell,  
The pattern of agrave, where, stead of music  
To charm you into slumbers, to be waked  
With the sad chiming of the sacring Bell;  
Your Robes, whose curiosity hath tired  
Invention, and the Silkworm to adorn you,  
Your blaze of Jewels, that your pride have worn  
To burn out Envies eyes, must be no more  
Your ornament, but coarse, and rugged clothing  
Harrow your skins; these, and many more  
Unkind austerities will much offend  
Your tender constitutions; yet consider.  Duk. 
He does insist much on their state and honour:  
May we not know 'em yet?  Ual. 
One of them sir  
Doth owe this character.  Gives him a paper. Duk. 
It is Foscari,  
I find his noble purpose, he is perfect:  
I honour thee young man, she must not see  
This paper.  Gives another paper. Val. 
This doth speak the other Sir.  Duk. 
'Tis at large— ha— Grimundo, I prithee read,  
I dare not credit my own eyes: Leonora,  
So it begins, Leonora.  Grim. 
Leonora, Daughter to the late Gonzaga, Duke  
Of Milan, fearing she should be compelled to marry  
Her Uncle, in the habit of a Page, and the conduct  
Of Father Valentio, came to Savoy, to try the  
Love and honour of his Excellence, who once  
Solicited by his Ambassador—  Duk. 
No more, I am ecstasied;  
If so much blessing may be met at once,  
I'll do my heart that justice to proclaim  
Thou hadst a deep impression; as a boy  
I loved thee too, for it could be no other,  
But with a Divine flame; fair Leonora,  
Like to a perfect magnes, though enclosed  
With an Ivory box, through the white wall  
Shot forth embracing virtue: now, oh now  
Our Destinies are kind.  Fosc. 
This is a mystery, Dulcino?  Leon. 
No my Lord, I am discovered;  
You see Leonora now, a Milan Lady,  
If I may hope your pardon—  Duk. 
Love and honour  
Thou dost enrich my heart: Cleona read,  
And entertain the happiness to which  
Thy Fate predestined thee, whilst I obey  
Mine here.  Cleona reads. Cleon. 
How, my Lord Foscari?  
If he be living, I must die before  
This separation be confirmed; my joy  
Doth overcome my wonder; can you leave  
The world, while I am in't?  Fosc. 
Dearest Leonora!  
Then willingly I dispense with my intention,  
And if the Duke have found another Mistress,  
It shall be my devotion to pray here,  
And my Religion to honour thee.  Ab. 
Many blessings crown this union.  Fosc. 
Your pardon gracious Princess,  
I did impose too much.  Leon. 
I studied  
To be your grateful Servant, as yourself  
Unto the fair Cleona; we are all happy.  Enter Lodowick, Astella, and Piero. Lodw. 
They're here; by your leave Brother, my Lord Abbot,  
Witness enough.  Duk. 
Why thus knelt Lodowick?  Lodw. 
To make confession Brother, and beg heavens,  
And every good man's pardon, for the wrong  
I ha' done this excellent Lady, whom my soul  
New marries, and may heaven— ha, do not hold  
A justice back: Grimundo is a traitor,  
Take heed on him, and say your prayers; he is  
The Devils grand Solicitor for souls.  
He hath not such another cunning engine i'th'  
World to ruin virtue.  Grim. 
ay, my Lord?  Lodw. 
You are no hypocrite: he does every night  
Lie with a Succubus; he brought me to one,  
Let him deny it; but heaven had pity on me.  Enter Belinda. 
Ha! there she is: do you not see her? Devil  
I do defy thee: my Lord, stand by me:  
I will be honest spite of him and thee,  
And lie with my own Wife.  Giot. 
Sure the Prince is mad.  Duk. 
O rise most noble Lady, well deserving  
A statue to record thy virtue.  Lodw. 
Ha?  Duk. 
This is Grimundo's Wife.  Lodw. 
'Tis so, my Lord.  Bel. 
No Devil, but the servant of your virtue,  
That shall rejoice if we have thrived in your conversion.  Ast. 
I hope it.  Lodw. 
Have I been mocked into honesty?  
Are not you a Fury? and you a sly and subtle Epicure?  Grim. 
I do abhor the thought of being so:  
Pardon my seeming, Sir.  Ab. 
O go not back,  
Prevent thus seasonable your real torment.  Lodw. 
I am fully wakened, be this kiss the Pledge  
Of my new heart.  Pier. 
True love stream in your bosoms;  
Lady forgive me too.  Ast. 
Most willingly.  Duk. 
Our joy is perfect: Lodowick salute  
A Sifter in this Lady Leonora,  
The object of our first love; take the story  
As we return: Lord Abbot we must thank  
You for contriving this; and you good Father.  
Ambassadors shall be dispatched to Milan,  
To acquaint 'em where, and how their absent Princess  
Leonora hath disposed herself; meanwhile,  
Poets shall stretch invention, to express  
Triumphs for thee, and Savoys happiness.  Exeunt Omnes.   
FINIS.   

Books Printed, or So 〈…〉 at the Sign of the Crown in Fleet 〈…〉 the two Temple Gates.  

YOrks Heraldry. Fol.  
A Bible, of a very fair large Roman Letter. 4. Orlando Furioso. fol. Wilkinsons Office of Sheriffs.  
Mirror of Justice. 8. Parson's Law. 8. ●elamans use of the Horizontal quadrant ●ilbeys second Set of Music, 3, 4, 5, and 6, Parts. 4. Corderius in English. 8. ●. Fulks Meteors, with Observations 8.  
Malthus Artificial Fireworks.  
●ye's Gunnery and Fireworks.  
into Major, with Annotations. By William Austin, Esquire.  
●●tel Heliconium, by Alex. Ross. 8.  
●●osce teipsum, by Sir john Davis. 8.  
animadversions on Lilies Grammar. 8.  
The History of Vienna and Paris.  
The History of Lazarido de Tormes.  
●ero and Licander, by George Chapman.  
Prayer's Catechism. 8.  
Exercitatio Scholastica.  
rising of the Accidence.  
herberts Travels, fol.  
●an become guilty, by john Francis Senalt, and Englished by Henry, Earl of Monmouth. The Idiot, in four Books.  
the Life and Reign of Hen. 8. by the Lord Herbert. fol.  
sola Lucis, or the house of Light.  
the Port-Royal of holy Scripture, or a new Concordance of the chief heads of Scripture, by I. H.  
Tragedy, written by the most learned Hugo Gropius, called CHRISTUS PATIENS, and translated into English, by George Sandys.  
the Mount of Olives, or solitary devotions  
the description and use of the double orizontal Dyal.  
the Rights of the people concerning Imositions.  
since painted out to the life. The second Edition.  
the Garden of Eden, both parts.  
●● exact Abridgement of the Records in the Tower of London, from the Reign of K. Edward the second, to K. Richard The third, of all the Parliaments holden in each King's Reign, & the several Acts in every Parliament, by Sir Robert Cotton, Knight and Baronet.  
Le Prince d'Amour, or the Prince of Love; With a collection of several ingenious Poems and Songs, by the Wits of the Age. 8.  
The Solemn League and Covenant, Arraigned and Condemned.  
The Result of False Principles, or Error convicted by its own evidence, with Diott●phes his Dialogues, by the Author of the Examination of Tyleaus before the Tryers; whereunto is added a learned Disputation of Dr. Goads, sent by King james to the Synod at Dort.  
An Apology for the Discipline of the ancient Church, intended especially for that of our Mother the Church of England, in answer to the Admonitory Letter, lately published by William Nichoison, archdeacon of Br●con, and now Lord Bishop of Gloucester.  
A learned Expositon of the Apostles Creed, delivered in several Sermons, by the Right Reverend Father in God, William Nicholson, Lord Bishop of Gloucester.  
Davids Harp strung and tuned, being a brief Analysis of David's Psalms, with devout Prayers and Meditations to every Psalm, framed for the most part out of the words of the Psalm, and fitted for several occasions. By William Nicholson, Lord Bishop of Gloucester.  
Mathematical Recreations.  
Calais learned Readins on the Statute 21 of H. n. 8. Chap. 5. of Sewers.  
Sken, de signisicatione verborum. 4.  
Flamma sine famo, or Poems without Fictions. 12.   

PLAYS.  
The Wedding. Philaster.  
The Hollander. The Merchant of Venice.  
The strange Discovery. Maid's Tragedy.  
King and no King.  
Othello, the Moor of Venice.  
The Grateful Servant.