Beaumont & Fletcher's Works (2 of 10) - The Humourous Lieutenant
by
Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher
Part 2 out of 4
_Leo_. Do but fight something;
But half a blow, and put thy stomach to't:
Turn but thy face, and do-make mouths at 'em.
_Lieu_. And have my teeth knockt out; I thank ye heartily,
Ye are my dear friend.
_Leo_. What a devil ails thee?
Dost long to be hang'd?
_Lieu_. Faith Sir, I make no suit for't:
But rather Fhan I would live thus out of charity,
Continually in brawling--
_Leo_. Art thou not he?
I may be cosen'd--
_Lieu_, I shall be discover'd.
_Leo_. That in the midst of thy most hellish pains,
When thou wert crawling sick, didst aim at wonders,
When thou wert mad with pain?
_Lieu_. Ye have found the cause out;
I had ne're been mad to fight else: I confess Sir,
The daily torture of my side that vext me,
Made me as daily careless what became of me,
Till a kind sword there wounded me, and eas'd me;
'Twas nothing in my valour fought; I am well now,
And take some pleasure in my life, methinks now,
It shews as mad a thing to me to see you scuffle,
And kill one another foolishly for honour,
As 'twas to you, [t]o see me play the coxcomb.
_Leo_. And wilt thou ne're fight more?
_Lieu_. I'th' mind I am in.
_Leo_. Nor never be sick again?
_Lieu_. I hope I shall not.
_Leo_. Prethee be sick again: prethee, I beseech thee,
Be just so sick again.
_Lieu_. I'le just be hang'd first.
_Leo_. If all the Arts that are can make a Colique,
Therefore look to't: or if imposthumes, mark me,
As big as foot-balls--
_Lieu_. Deliver me.
_Leo_. Or stones of ten pound weight i'th' kidneys,
Through ease and ugly dyets may be gather'd;
I'le feed ye up my self Sir, I'le prepare ye,
You cannot fight, unless the Devil tear ye,
You shall not want provocations, I'le scratch ye,
I'le have thee have the tooth-ach, and the head-ach.
_Lieu_. Good Colonel, I'le doe any thing.
_Leo_. No, no, nothing--
Then will I have thee blown with a pair of Smiths bellows,
Because ye shall be sure to have a round gale with ye,
Fill'd full of oyle o'Devil, and _Aqua-fortis_,
And let these work, these may provoke.
_Lieu_. Good Colonel.
_Leo_. A coward in full bloud; prethee be plain with me,
Will roasting doe thee any good?
_Lieu_. Nor basting neither, Sir.
_Leo_. Marry that goes hard.
_Enter_ 1 Gentleman.
_1 Gent_. Where are you Colonel?
The Prince experts ye Sir; h'as hedg'd the enemy
Within a streight, where all the hopes and valours
Of all men living cannot force a passage,
He has 'em now.
_Leo_. I knew all this before Sir,
I chalk'd him out his way: but do you see that thing there?
_Lieu_. Nay good sweet Colonel, I'le fight a little.
_Leo_. That thing?
_1 Gent_. What thing? I see the brave Lieutenant.
_Leo_. Rogue, what a name hast thou lost?
_Lieu_. You may help it,
Yet you may help't: I'le doe ye any courtesie:
I know you love a wench well.
_Enter_ 2 Gentlemen.
_Leo_. Look upon him;
Do you look too.
_2 Gent_. What should I look on?
I come to tell ye, the Prince stayes your direction,
We have 'em now i'th' Coop, Sir.
_Leo_. Let 'em rest there,
And chew upon their miseries: but look first--
_Lieu_. I cannot fight for all this.
_Leo_. Look on this fellow.
_2 Gent_. I know him; 'tis the valiant brave Lieutenant.
Leo. Canst thou hear this, and play the Rogue? steal off quickly,
Behind me quickly neatly do it,
And rush into the thickest of the enemy,
And if thou kill'st but two.
_Lieu_. You may excuse me,
'Tis not my fault: I dare not fight.
_Leo_. Be rul'd yet,
I'le beat thee on; goe wink and fight: a plague upon your sheeps heart.
_2 Gent_. What's all this matter?
_1 Gent_. Nay I cannot shew ye.
_Leo_. Here's twenty pound, goe but smell to 'em.
_Lieu_. Alas Sir,
I have taken such a cold I can smell nothing.
_Leo_. I can smell a Rascal, a rank Rascal:
Fye, how he stinks, stinks like a tyred Jade.
_2 Gent_. What Sir?
_Leo_. Why, that Sir, do not you smell him?
_2 Gent_. Smell him?
_Lieu_. I must endure.
_Leo_. Stinks like a dead Dog, Carrion--
There's no such damnable smell under Heaven,
As the faint sweat of a Coward: will ye fight yet?
_Lieu_. Nay, now I defie ye; ye have spoke the worst ye can
Of me, and if every man should take what you say
To the heart.--
_Leo_. God ha' Mercy,
God ha' Mercy with all my heart; here I forgive thee;
And fight, or fight not, do but goe along with us,
And keep my Dog.
_Lieu_. I love a good Dog naturally.
_1 Gent_. What's all this stir, Lieutenant?
_Lieu_. Nothing Sir,
But a slight matter of argument.
_Leo_. Pox take thee.
Sure I shall love this Rogue, he's so pretty a Coward.
Come Gentlemen, let's up now, and if fortune
Dare play the slut again, I'le never more Saint her,
Come play-fellow, come, prethee come up; come chicken,
I have a way shall fit yet: A tame knave,
Come, look upon us.
_Lieu_. I'le tell ye who does best boyes. [_Exeunt._
_SCENA IV._
_Enter_ Antigonus, _and_ Menippus, _above_.
_Men_. I saw her coming out.
_Ant_. Who waits upon her?
_Men_. _Timon_, _Charinthus_, and some other Gentlemen,
By me appointed.
_Ant_. Where's your wife?
_Men_. She's ready
To entertain her here Sir; and some Ladies
Fit for her lodgings.
_Ant_. How shews she in her trim now?
_Men_. Oh most divinely sweet.
_Ant_. Prethee speak softly.
How does she take her coming?
_Men_. She bears it bravely;
But what she thinks--For Heaven sake Sir preserve me--
If the Prince chance to find this.
_Ant_. Peace ye old fool;
She thinks to meet him here.
_Men_. That's all the Project.
_Ant_. Was she hard to bring?
_Men_. No she believ'd it quickly,
And quickly made her self fit, the Gown a little,
And those new things she has not been acquainted with,
At least in this place, where she liv'd a prisoner,
Troubled and stirr'd her mind. But believe me Sir,
She has worn as good, they sit so apted to her;
And she is so great a Mistris of disposure:
Here they come now: but take a full view of her.
_Enter_ Celia, Timon, Charinthus, _and_ Gent.
_Ant_. How cheerfully she looks? how she salutes all?
And how she views the place? she is very young sure:
That was an admirable smile, a catching one,
The very twang of Cupids bow sung in it:
She has two-edg'd eyes, they kill o' both sides.
_Men_. She makes a stand, as though she would speak.
_Ant_. Be still then.
_Cel_. Good Gentlemen, trouble your selves no further,
I had thought sure to have met a noble friend here.
_Tim_. Ye may meet many Lady.
_Cel_. Such as you are
I covet few or none, Sir.
_Char_. Will you walk this way,
And take the sweets o'th' garden? cool and close, Lady.
_Cel_. Methinks this open air's far better, tend ye that way
Pray where's the woman came along?
_Char_. What woman?
_Cel_. The woman of the house I lay at.
_Tim_. Woman?
Here was none came along sure.
_Cel_. Sure I am catcht then:
Pray where's the Prince?
_Char_. He will not be long from ye,
We are his humble Servants.
_Cel_. I could laugh now,
To see how finely I am cozen'd: yet I fear not,
For sure I know a way to scape all dangers.
_Tim_. Madam, your lodgings lye this way.
_Cel_. My Lodgings?
For Heaven sake Sir, what office do I bear here?
_Tim_. The great commander of all hearts.
_Enter_ Leucippe, _and_ Ladies.
_Cel_. You have hit it.
I thank your sweet heart for it. Who are these now?
_Char_. Ladies that come to serve ye.
_Cel_. Well consider'd,
Are you my Servants?
_Lady_. Servants to your pleasures.
_Cel_. I dare believe ye, but I dare not trust ye:
Catch'd with a trick? well, I must bear it patiently:
Methinks this Court's a neat place: all the people
Of so refin'd a size--
_Tim_. This is no poor Rogue.
_Leu_. Were it a Paradise to please your fancy,
And entertain the sweetness you bring with ye.
_Cel_. Take breath;
You are fat, and many words may melt ye,
This is three Bawdes beaten into one; bless me Heaven,
What shall become of me? I am i'th' pitfall:
O' my conscience, this is the old viper, and all these little ones
Creep every night into her belly; do you hear plump servant
And you my little sucking Ladies, you must teach me,
For I know you are excellent at carriage,
How to behave my self, for I am rude yet:
But you say the Prince will come?
_Lady_. Will flie to see you.
_Cel_. For look you if a great man, say the King now
Should come and visit me?
_Men_. She names ye.
_Ant_. Peace fool.
_Cel_. And offer me a kindness, such a kindness.
_Leu_. I, such a kindness.
_Cel_. True Lady such a kindness,
What shall that kindness be now?
_Leu_. A witty Lady,
Learn little ones, learn.
_Cel_. Say it be all his favour.
_Leu_. And a sweet saying 'tis.
_Cel_. And I grow peevish?
_Leu_. You must not be negleftfull.
_Cel_. There's the matter,
There's the main doctrine now, and I may miss it,
Or a kind handsom Gentleman?
_Leu_. You say well.
_Cel_. They'I count us basely bred.
_Leu_. Not freely nurtur'd.
_Cel_. I'le take thy counsel.
_Leu_. 'Tis an excellent woman.
_Cel_. I find a notable volum here, a learned one;
Which way? for I would fain be in my chamber;
In truth sweet Ladies, I grow weary; fie,
How hot the air beats on me!
_Lady_. This way Madam.
_Cel_. Now by mine honour, I grow wondrous faint too.
_Leu_. Your fans sweet Gentlewomen, your fans.
_Cel_. Since I am fool'd,
I'le make my self some sport, though I pay dear for't. [_Ex._
_Men_. You see now what a manner of woman she is Sir.
_Ant_. Thou art an ass.
_Men_. Is this a fit love for the Prince:
_Ant_. A coxcombe:
Now by my crown a daintie wench, a sharp wench,
And/a matchless Spirit: how she jeer'd 'em?
How carelesly she scoff'd 'em? use her nobly;
I would I had not seen her: wait anon,
And then you shall have more to trade upon. [_Exeunt._
_SCENA V._
_Enter_ Leontius, _and the_ 2 Gentlemen.
_Leo_. We must keep a round, and a strong watch to night,
The Prince will not charge the Enemy till the morning:
But for the trick I told ye for this Rascal,
This rogue, that health and strong heart makes a coward.
_1 Gent_. I, if it take.
_Leo_. Ne're fear it, the Prince has it,
And if he let it fall, I must not know it;
He will suspecl: me presently: but you two
May help the plough.
_2 Gent_. That he is sick again.
_Leo_. Extreamly sick: his disease grown incurable,
Never yet found, nor touch'd at.
_Enter_ Lieutenant.
_2 Gent_. Well, we have it,
And here he comes.
_Leo_. The Prince has been upon him,
What a flatten face he has now? it takes, believe it;
How like an Ass he looks?
_Lieu_. I feel no great pain,
At least, I think I do not; yet I feel sensibly
I grow extreamly faint: how cold I sweat now!
_Leo_. So, so, so.
_Lieu_. And now 'tis ev'n too true, I feel a pricking,
A pricking, a strange pricking: how it tingles!
And as it were a stitch too: the Prince told me,
And every one cri'd out I was a dead man;
I had thought I had been as well--
_Leo_. Upon him now Boys,
And do it most demurely.
_1 Gent_. How now _Lieutenant_?
_Lieu_. I thank ye Gentlemen.
_1 Gent_. 'Life, how looks this man?
How dost thou good _Lieutenant_?
_2 Gent_. I ever told ye
This man was never cur'd, I see it too plain now;
How do you feel your self? you look not perfect,
How dull his eye hangs?
_1 Gent_. That may be discontent.
_2 Gent_. Believe me friend, I would not suffer now
The tith of those pains this man feels; mark his forehead
What a cloud of cold dew hangs upon't?
_Lieu_. I have it,
Again I have it; how it grows upon me!
A miserable man I am.
_Leo_. Ha, ha, ha,
A miserable man thou shall be,
This is the tamest Trout I ever tickl'd.
_Enter_ 2 Physicians.
_1 Phy_. This way he went.
_2 Phy_. Pray Heaven we find him living,
He's a brave fellow, 'tis pity he should perish thus.
_1 Phy_. A strong hearted man, and of a notable sufferance.
_Lieu_. Oh, oh.
_1 Gent_. How now? how is it man?
_Lieu_. Oh Gentlemen,
Never so full of pain.
_2 Gent_. Did I not tell ye?
_Lieu_. Never so full of pain, Gentlemen.
_1 Phy_. He is here;
How do you, Sir?
_2 Phy_. Be of good comfort, Souldier,
The Prince has sent us to you.
_Lieu_. Do you think I may live?
_2 Phy_. He alters hourly, strangely.
_1 Phy_. Yes, you may live: but--
_Leo_. Finely butted, Doctor.
_1 Gent_. Do not discourage him.
_1 Phy_. He must be told truth,
'Tis now too late to trifle.
_Enter_ Demetrius, _and_ Gent.
_2 Gent_. Here the Prince comes.
_Dem_. How now Gentlemen?
_2 Gent_. Bewailing, Sir, a Souldier,
And one I think, your Grace will grieve to part with,
But every living thing--
_Dem_. 'Tis true, must perish,
Our lives are but our marches to our graves,
How dost thou now _Lieutenant?_
_Lieu_. Faith 'tis true, Sir,
We are but spans, and Candles ends.
_Leo_. He's finely mortified.
_Dem_. Thou art heart whole yet I see he alters strangely,
And that apace too; I saw it this morning in him,
When he poor man, I dare swear--
_Lieu_. No believ't, Sir,
I never felt it.
_Dem_. Here lies the pain now: how he is swel'd?
_1 Phy_. The Impostume
Fed with a new malignant humour now,
Will grow to such a bigness, 'tis incredible,
The compass of a Bushel will not hold it.
And with such a Hell of torture it will rise too--
_Dem_. Can you endure me touch it?
_Lieu_. Oh, I beseech you, Sir:
I feel you sensibly ere you come near me.
_Dem_. He's finely wrought, he must be cut, no Cure else,
And suddenly, you see how fast he blows out.
_Lieu_. Good Master Doctors, let me be beholding to you,
I feel I cannot last.
_2 Phy_. For what _Lieutenant?_
_Lieu_. But ev'n for half a dozen Cans of good Wine,
That I may drink my will out: I faint hideously. (men,
_Dem_. Fetch him some Wine; and since he must go Gentle--Why
let him take his journey merrily.
_Enter_ Servant _with Wine._
_Lieu_. That's ev'n the nearest way.
_Leo_. I could laugh dead now.
_Dem_. Here, off with that.
_Lieu_. These two I give your Grace,
A poor remembrance of a dying man, Sir,
And I beseech you wear 'em out.
_Dem_._ I will Souldier,
These are fine Legacies.
_Lieu_. Among the Gentlemen,
Even all I have left; I am a poor man, naked,
Yet something for remembra[n]ce: four a piece Gentlemen,
And so my body where you please.
_Leo_. It will work.
_Lieu_. I make your Grace my Executor, and I beseech ye
See my poor Will fulfill'd: sure I shall walk else.
_Dem_. As full as they can be fill'd, here's my hand, Souldier.
_1 Gent_. The Wine will tickle him.
_Lieut_. I would hear a Drum beat,
But to see how I could endure it.
_Dem_. Beat a Drum there. [_Drum within_.
_Lieu_. Oh Heavenly Musick, I would hear one sing to't;
I am very full of pain.
_Dem_. Sing? 'tis impossible.
_Lieu_. Why, then I would drink a Drum full:
Where lies the Enemy?
_2 Gent_. Why, here close by.
_Leo_. Now he begins to muster.
_Lieu_. And dare he fight?
Dare he fight Gentlemen?
_1 Phy_. You must not cut him:
He's gone then in a moment; all the hope left, is
To work his weakness into suddain anger,
And make him raise his passion above his pain,
And so dispose him on the Enemy;
His body then, being stir'd with violence,
Will purge it self and break the sore.
_Dem_. 'Tis true, Sir.
_1 Phy_. And then my life for his.
_Lieu_. I will not dye thus.
_Dem_. But he is too weak to do--
_Lieu_. Dye like a Dog?
_2 Phy_. I, he's weak, but yet he's heart whole.
_Lieu_. Hem.
_Dem_. An excellent sign.
_Lieu_. Hem.
_Dem_. Stronger still, and better.
_Lieu_. Hem, hem; ran, tan, tan, tan, tan. [_Exit_.
_1 Phy_. Now he's i'th' way on't.
_Dem._ Well go thy waies, thou wilt do something certain.
_Leo._ And some brave thing, or let mine ears be cut off.
He's finely wrought.
_Dem._ Let's after him.
_Leo._ I pray, Sir;
But how this Rogue, when this cloud's melted in him,
And all discover'd--
_Dem._ That's for an after mirth, away, away, away. [_Ex._
_SCENA VI._
_Enter Seleucus, Lysimachus, Ptolomie, Souldiers._
_Sel_. Let no man fear to dye: we love to sleep all,
And death is but the sounder sleep; all ages,
And all hours call us; 'tis so common, easie,
That little Children tread those paths before us;
We are not sick, nor our souls prest with sorrows,
Nor go we out like tedious tales, forgotten;
High, high we come, and hearty to our Funerals,
And as the Sun that sets, in bloud let's fall.
_Lysi_. 'Tis true, they have us fast, we cannot scape 'em
Nor keeps the brow of fortune one smile for us,
Dishonourable ends we can scape though,
And (worse than those Captivities) we can die,
And dying nobly, though we leave behind us
These clods of flesh, that are too massie burthens,
Our living souls flie crown'd with living conquests.
_Ptol_. They have begun, fight bravely, and fall bravely;
And may that man that seeks to save his life now
By price, or promise, or by fear falls from us,
Never again be blest with name of Souldier.
_Enter a Souldier._
_Sel_. How now? who charged first? I seek a brave hand
To set me off in death.
_Soul_. We are not charg'd, Sir,
The Prince lies still.
_Sel_. How comes this Larum up then?
_Soul_. There is one desperate fellow, with the Devil in him
(He never durst do this else) has broke into us,
And here he bangs ye two or three before him,
There five or six; ventures upon whole Companies.
_Ptol_. And is not seconded?
_Soul_. Not a man follows.
_Sel_. Nor cut i' pieces?
_Soul_. Their wonder yet has staid 'em.
_Sel_. Let's in, and see this miracle?
_Ptol_. I admire it. [_Ex._
_Enter Leontius, and Gentlemen._
_Leon_. Fetch him off, fetch him off; I am sure he's clouted;
Did I hot tell you how 'twould take?
_1 Gent_. 'Tis admirable.
_Enter Lieutenant with Colours in his hand, pursuing 3 or 4 Souldiers._
_Lie_. Follow that blow, my friend, there's at your coxcombs,
I fight to save me from the Surgions miseries.
_Leo_. How the Knave curries 'em?
_Lieu_. You cannot Rogues,
Till you have my Diseases, flie my fury,
Ye Bread and Butter Rogues, do ye run from me?
And my side would give me leave, I would so hunt ye,
Ye Porridg gutted Slaves, ye Veal broth-Boobies.
_Enter Demetrius, and Physicians, and Gentlemen._
_Leo_. Enough, enough _Lieutenant_, thou hast done bravely.
_Dem_. Mirrour of man.
_Lieu_. There's a Flag for ye, Sir,
I took it out o'th' shop, and never paid for't,
I'le to 'em again, I am not come to th' text yet.
_Dem_. No more my Souldier: beshrew my heart he is hurt sore.
_Leo_. Hang him, he'l lick all th^se whole.
_1 Phy_. Now will we take him,
And Cure him in a trice.
_Dem_. Be careful of him.
_Lieu_. Let me live but two years,
And do what ye will with me;
I never had but two hours yet of happiness;
Pray ye give me nothing to provoke my valour,
For I am ev'n as weary of this fighting--
_2 Phy_. Ye shall have nothing; come to the Princes Tent
And there the Surgions presently shall search ye,
Then to your rest.
_Lieu_. A little handsome Litter
To lay me in, and I shall sleep.
_Leo_. Look to him.
_Dem_. I do believe a Horse begot this fellow,
He never knew his strength yet; they are our own.
_Leo_. I think so, I am cozen'd else; I would but see now
A way to fetch these off, and save their honours.
_Dem_. Only their lives.
_Leo_. Pray ye take no way of peace now,
Unless it be with infinite advantage.
_Dem_. I shall be rul'd;
Let the Battels now move forward,
Our self will give the signal: _Enter_ Trumpet _and_ Herald.
Now Herald, what's your message?
_Her_. From my Masters,
This honourable courtesie, a Parley
For half an hour, no more, Sir.
_Dem_. Let 'em come on,
They have my Princely word.
_Enter_ Seleucus, Lysimacus, Ptolomie, _Attendants, Souldiers._
_Her_. They are here to attend ye.
_Dem_. Now Princes, your demands?
_Sel_. Peace, if it may be
Without the too much tainture of our honour:
Peace, and we'l buy it too.
_Dem_. At what price?
_Lysi_. Tribute.
_Ptol_. At all the charge of this War.
_Leo_. That will not do.
_Sel_. _Leontius_, you and I have serv'd together,
And run through many a Fortune with our swords,
Brothers in Wounds and Health; one meat has fed us,
One Tent a thousand times from cold night cover'd us:
Our loves have been but one; and had we died then,
One Monument had held our names, and actions:
Why do you set upon your friends such prices?
And sacrifice to giddy chance such Trophies?
Have we forgot to dye? or are our vertues
Less in afflictions constant, than our fortunes?
Ye are deceiv'd old Souldier.
_Leo_. I know your worths,
And thus low bow in reverence to your vertues:
Were these my Wars, or led my power in chief here,
I knew then how to meet your memories:
They are my Kings imployments; this man fights now,
To whom I ow all duty, faith, and service;
This man that fled before ye; call back that,
That bloudy day again, call that disgrace home,
And then an easie Peace may sheath our Swords up.
I am not greedy of your lives and fortunes,
Nor do I gape ungratefully to swallow ye.
Honour, the spur of all illustrious natures,
That made you famous Souldiers, and next Kings,
And not ambitious envy strikes me forward.
Will ye unarm, and yield your selves his prisoners?
_Sel_. We never knew what that sound meant: no Gyves
Shall ever bind this body, but embraces;
Nor weight of sorrow here, till Earth fall on me.
_Leo_. Expect our charge then.
_Lysi_. 'Tis the nobler courtesie:
And so we leave the hand of Heaven to bless us.
_Dem_. Stay, have you any hope?
_Sel_. We have none left us,
But that one comfort of our deaths together;
Give us but room to fight.
_Leo_. Win it, and wear it.
_Ptol_. Call from the hills those Companies hang o're us,
Like bursting Clouds; and then break in, and take us.
_Dem_. Find such a Souldier will forsake advantage,
And we'll draw off to shew I dare be noble,
And hang a light out to ye in this darkness,
The light of peace; give up those Cities, Forts,
And all those Frontier Countries to our uses.
_Sel_. Is this the Peace? Traitors to those that feed us,
Our Gods and people? give our Countries from us?
_Lysi_. Begin the Knell, it sounds a great deal sweeter.
_Ptol_. Let loose your servant, death.
_Sel_. Fall fate upon us,
Our memories shall never stink behind us.
_Dem_. Seleucus_, great _Seleucus_.
_Sol_. The Prince calls, Sir.
_Dem_. Thou stock of nobleness, and courtesie,
Thou Father of the War--
_Leo_. What means the Prince now?
_Dem_. Give me my Standard here.
_Lysi_. His anger's melted.
_Dem_. You Gentlemen that were his prisoners,
And felt the bounty of that noble nature,
Lay all your hands, and bear these Colours to him,
The Standard of the Kingdom; take it Souldier.
_Ptol_. What will this mean?
_Dem_. Thou hast won it, bear it off,
And draw thy men home whilest we wait upon thee.
_Sel_. You shall have all our Countries.
_Lysi. Ptol_. All by Heaven, Sir.
_Dem_. I will not have a stone, a bush, a bramble,
No, in the way of courtesie, I'le start ye;
Draw off, and make a lane through all the Army,
That these that have subdu'd us, may march through us.
_Sel_. Sir, do not make me surfeit with such goodness,
I'le bear your Standard for ye; follow ye.
_Dem_. I swear it shall be so, march through me fairly,
And thine be this days honour, great _Seleucus_.
_Ptol_. Mirrour of noble minds.
_Dem_. Nay then ye hate me.
_Leo_. I cannot speak now: _ [Ex. with Drums, and Shouts._
Well, go thy wayes; at a sure piece of bravery
Thou art the best, these men are won by th' necks now:
I'le send a Post away.
_ACTUS QUARTUS. SCENA PRIMA._
_Enter Antigonus, and Menippus._
_Ant_. No aptness in her?
_Men_. Not an immodest motion,
And yet when she is courted,
Makes as wild witty answers.
_Ant_. This more fires me,
I must not have her thus.
_Men_. We cannot alter her.
_Ant_. Have ye put the youths upon her?
_Men_. All that know any thing,
And have been studied how to catch a beauty,
But like so many whelps about an Elephant--
The Prince is coming home, Sir.
_Ant_. I hear that too,
But that's no matter; am I alter'd well?
_Men_. Not to be known I think, Sir.
_Ant_. I must see her.
_Enter 2 Gentlemen, or Lords._
_1 Gent_. I offered all I had, all I could think of,
I tri'd her through all the points o'th' compass, I think.
_2 Gent_. She studies to undo the Court, to plant here
The Enemy to our Age, Chastity;
She is the first, that e're bauk'd a close Arbour,
And the sweet contents within: She hates curl'd heads too,
And setting up of beards she swears is Idolatry.
_1 Gent_. I never knew so fair a face so froze;
Yet she would make one think--
_2 Gent_. True by her carriage,
For she's as wanton as a Kid to th' out side,
As full of Mocks and Taunts: I kiss'd her hand too,
Walkt with her half an hour.
_1 Gent_. She heard me sing,
And sung her self too; she sings admirably;
But still when any hope was, as 'tis her trick
To minister enough of those, then presently
With some new flam or other, nothing to the matter,
And such a frown, as would sink all before her,
She takes her Chamber; come, we shall not be the last fools.
_2 Gent_. Not by a hundred I hope; 'tis a strange wench.
_Ant_. This screws me up still higher.
_Enter Celia, and Ladies behind her._
_Men_. Here she comes, Sir.
_Ant_. Then be you gone; and take the Women with ye,
And lay those Jewels in her way.
_Cel_. If I stay longer
I shall number as many Lovers as _Lais_ did;
How they flock after me! upon my Conscience,
I have had a dozen Horses given me this morning,
I'le ev'n set up a Troop, and turn She-souldier,
A good discreet wench now, that were not hidebound
Might raise a fine estate here, and suddenly:
For these warm things will give their Souls--I can go no where
Without a world of offerings to my Excellence:
I am a Queen, a Goddesse, I know not what--
And no constellation in all Heaven, but I out-shine it;
And they have found out now I have no eyes
Of mortal lights, but certain influences,
Strange vertuous lightnings, humane nature starts at,
And I can kill my twenty in a morning,
With as much ease now--
Ha! what are these? new projects?
Where are my honourable Ladies? are you out too?
Nay then I must buy the stock, send me good Carding:
I hope the Princes hands be not in this sport;
I have not seen him yet, cannot hear from him,
And that troubles me: all these were recreations
Had I but his sweet company to laugh with me:
What fellow's that? another Apparition?
This is the lovingst Age: I should know that face,
Sure I have seen't before, not long since neither.
_Ant_. She sees me now: O Heaven, a most rare creature!
_Cel_. Yes, 'tis the same: I will take no notice of ye,
But if I do not fit ye, let me fry for't;
Is all this Cackling for your egg? they are fair ones,
Excellent rich no doubt too; and may stumble
A good staid mind, but I can go thus by 'em;
My honest friend; do you set off these Jewels?
_Ant_. Set 'em off, Lady?
_Cel_. I mean, sell 'em here, Sir?
_Ant_. She's very quick; for sale they are not meant sure.
_Cel_. For sanctity I think much less: good even Sir.
_Ant_. Nay noble Lady, stay: 'tis you must wear 'em:
Never look strange, they are worthy your best beauty.
_Cel_. Did you speak to me?
_Ant_. To you or to none living:
To you they are sent, to you they are sacrificed.
_Cel_. I'le never look a Horse i'th' mouth that's given:
I thank ye, Sir: I'le send one to reward ye.
_Ant_. Do you never ask who sent 'em?
_Cel_. Never I:
Nor never care, if it be an honest end,
That end's the full reward, and thanks but slubber it;
If it be ill, I will not urge the acquaintance.
_Ant_. This has a soul indeed: pray let me tell ye--
_Cel_. I care not if ye do, so you do it hansomly,
And not stand picking of your words.
_Ant_. The King sent 'em.
_Cel_. Away, away, thou art some foolish fellow,
And now I think thou hast stole 'em too: the King sent 'em?
Alas good man, wouldst thou make me believe
He has nothing to do with things of these worths,
But wantonly to fling 'em? he's an old man,
A good old man, they say too: I dare swear
Full many a year ago he left these gambols:
Here, take your trinkets.
_Ant_. Sure I do not lye, Lady.
_Cel_. I know thou lyest extreamly, damnably:
Thou hast a lying face.
_Ant_. I was never thus ratled.
_Cel_. But say I should believe: why are these sent me?
And why art thou the Messenger? who art thou?
_Ant_. Lady, look on 'em wisely, and then consider
Who can send such as these, but a King only?
And, to what beauty can they be oblations,
But only yours? For me that am the carrier,
'Tis only fit you know I am his servant,
And have fulfil'd his will.
_Cel_. You are short and pithy;
What must my beauty do for these?
_Ant. _Sweet Lady,
You cannot be so hard of understanding,
When a King's favour shines upon ye gloriously,
And speaks his love in these--
_Cel_. O then love's the matter;
Sir-reverence love; now I begin to feel ye:
And I should be the Kings Whore, a brave title;
And go as glorious as the Sun, O brave still:
The chief Commandress of his Concubines,
Hurried from place to place to meet his pleasures.
_Ant_. A devilish subtil wench, but a rare spirit. (dry,
_Cel_. And when the good old spunge had suckt my youth
And left some of his Royal aches in my bones:
When time shall tell me I have plough'd my life up,
And cast long furrows in my face to sink me.
_Ant_. You must not think so, Lady.
_Cel_. Then can these, Sir,
These precious things, the price of youth and beauty;
This shop here of sin-offerings set me off again?
Can it restore me chaste, young, innocent?
Purge me to what I was? add to my memory
An honest and a noble fame? The Kings device;
The sin's as universal as the Sun is,
And lights an everlasting Torch to shame me.
_Ant_. Do you hold so sleight account of a great Kings favour,
That all knees bow to purchase?
_Cel_. Prethee peace:
If thou knewst how ill favouredly thy tale becomes thee,
And what ill root it takes--
_Ant_. You will be wiser.
_Cel_. Could the King find no shape to shift his pander into,
But reverend Age? and one so like himself too?
_Ant_. She has found me out.
_Cel_. Cozen the world with gravity?
Prethee resolve me one thing, do's the King love thee?
_Ant_. I think he do's.
_Cel_. It seems so by thy Office:
He loves thy use, and when that's ended, hates thee:
Thou seemest to me a Souldier.
_Ant_. Yes, I am one.
_Cel_. And hast fought for thy Country?
_Ant_. Many a time.
_Cel_. May be, commanded too?
_Ant_. I have done, Lady.
_Cel_. O wretched man, below the state of pity!
Canst thou forget thou wert begot in honour?
A free Companion for a King? a Souldier?
Whose Nobleness dare feel no want, but Enemies?
Canst thou forget this, and decline so wretchedly,
To eat the Bread of Bawdry, of base Bawdry?
Feed on the scum of Sin? fling thy Sword from thee?
Dishonour to the noble name that nursed thee?
Go, beg diseases: let them be thy Armours,
Thy fights, the flames of Lust, and their foul issues.
_Ant_. Why then I am a King, and mine own Speaker.
_Cel_. And I as free as you, mine own Disposer:
There, take your Jewels; let them give them lustres
That have dark Lives and Souls; wear 'em your self, Sir,
You'l seem a Devil else.
_Ant_. I command ye stay.
_Cel_. Be just, I am commanded.
_Ant_. I will not wrong ye.
_Cel_. Then thus low falls my duty.
_Ant_. Can ye love me?
Say I, and all I have--
_Cel_. I cannot love ye;
Without the breach of faith I cannot hear ye;
Ye hang upon my love, like frosts on Lilies:
I can dye, but I cannot love: you are answer'd.
_Ant_. I must find apter means, I love her truly.
_SCENA II._
_Enter_ Demetr. Leon. Lieu. Gent. Sould. _and_ Host.
_Dem_. Hither do you say she is come?
_Host_. Yes Sir, I am sure on't:
For whilest I waited upon ye, putting my Wife in trust,
I know not by what means, but the King found her,
And hither she was brought; how, or to what end--
_Dem_. My Father found her?
_Host_. So my Wife informs me.
_Dem_. _Leontius_, pray draw off the Souldiers,
I would a while be private.
_Leon_. Fall off Gentlemen,
The Prince would be alone. [Ex. Leo _and_ Soul.
_Dem_. Is he so cunning?
There is some trick in this, and you must know it,
And be an agent too: which if it prove so--
_Host_. Pull me to pieces, Sir.
_Dem_. My Father found her?
My Father brought her hither? went she willingly?
_Host_. My Wife sayes full of doubts.
_Dem_. I cannot blame her,
No more: there's no trust, no faith in mankind.
_Enter_ Antigonus, Menippus, Leontius, and Souldiers.
_Ant_. Keep her up close, he must not come to see her:
You are welcome nobly now, welcome home Gentlemen;
You have done a courteous service on the Enemy
Has tyed his Faith for ever; you shall find it;
Ye are not now in's debt Son: still your sad looks?
_Leontius_, what's the matter?
_Leo_. Truth Sir, I know not.
We have been merry since we went.
_Lieu_. I feel it.
_Ant_. Come, what's the matter now? do you want mony?
Sure he has heard o'th' wench.
_Dem_. Is that a want, Sir?
I would fain speak to your Grace.
_Ant_. You may do freely.
_Dem_. And not deserve your anger?
_Ant_. That ye may too.
_Dem_. There was a Gentlewoman, and sometimes my prisoner,
Which I thought well of Sir: your Grace conceives me.
_Ant_. I do indeed, and with much grief conceive ye;
With full as much grief as your Mother bare you.
There was such a Woman: would I might as well say,
There was no such, _Demetrius._
_Dem_. She was vertuous,
And therefore not unfit my youth to love her:
She was as fair--
_Ant_. Her beauty I'le proclaim too,
To be as rich as ever raign'd in Woman;
But how she made that good, the Devil knows.
_Dem_. She was--O Heaven!
_Ant_. The Hell to all thy glories,
Swallow'd thy youth, made shipwrack of thine honour:
She was a Devil.
_Dem_. Ye are my father, Sir.
_Ant_. And since ye take a pride to shew your follies,
I'le muster 'em, and all the world shall view 'em.
_Leo_. What heat is this? the Kings eyes speak his anger.
_Ant_. Thou hast abus'd thy youth, drawn to thy fellowship
Instead of Arts and Arms, a Womans kisses,
The subtilties, and soft heats of a Harlot.
_Dem_. Good Sir, mistake her not.
_Ant_. A Witch, a Sorceress:
I tell thee but the truth; and hear _Demetrius_,
Which has so dealt upon thy bloud with charms,
Devilish and dark; so lockt up all thy vertues;
So pluckt thee back from what thou sprungst from, glorious.
_Dem_. O Heaven, that any tongue but his durst say this!
That any heart durst harbour it! Dread Father,
If for the innocent the gods allow us
To bend our knees--
_Ant_. Away, thou art bewitch'd still;
Though she be dead, her power still lives upon thee.
_Dem_. Dead? O sacred Sir: dead did you say?
_Ant_. She is dead, fool.
_Dem_. It is not possible: be not so angry,
Say she is faln under your sad displeasure,
Or any thing but dead, say she is banished,
Invent a crime, and I'le believe it, Sir.
_Ant_. Dead by the Law: we found her Hell, and her,
I mean her Charms and Spells, for which she perish'd;
And she confest she drew thee to thy ruine,
And purpos'd it, purpos'd my Empires overthrow.
_Dem_. But is she dead? was there no pity Sir?
If her youth err'd, was there no mercy shown her?
Did ye look on her face, when ye condemn'd her?
_Ant_. I look'd into her heart, and there she was hideous.
_Dem_. Can she be dead? can vertue fall untimely?
_Ant_. She is dead, deservingly she died.
_Dem_. I have done then.
O matchless sweetness, whither art thou vanished?
O thou fair soul of all thy Sex, what Paradise
Hast thou inrich'd and blest? I am your son, Sir,
And to all you shall command stand most obedient,
Only a little time I must intreat you
To study to forget her; 'twill not be long, Sir,
Nor I long after it: art thou dead _Celia_,
Dead my poor wench? my joy, pluckt green with violence:
O fair sweet flower, farewel; Come, thou destroyer
Sorrow, thou melter of the soul, dwell with me;
Dwell with me solitary thoughts, tears, cryings,
Nothing that loves the day, love me, or seek me,
Nothing that loves his own life haunt about me:
And Love, I charge thee, never charm mine eyes more,
Nor ne're betray a beauty to my curses:
For I shall curse all now, hate all, forswear all,
And all the brood of fruitful nature vex at,
For she is gone that was all, and I nothing-- [_Ex. & Gent_.
_Ant_. This opinion must be maintained.
_Men_. It shall be, Sir.
_Ant_. Let him go; I can at mine own pleasure
Draw him to th' right again: wait your instructions,
And see the souldier paid, _Leontius_:
Once more ye are welcome home all.
_All_. Health to your Majesty. [_Ex. Antig. &c._
_Leo_. Thou wentest along the journey, how canst thou tell?
_Host_. I did, but I am sure 'tis so: had I staid behind,
I think this had not proved.
_Leo_. A Wench the reason?
_Lieu_. Who's that talks of a Wench there?
_Leo_. All this discontent
About a Wench?
_Lieu_. Where is this Wench, good Colonel?
_Leo_. Prithee hold thy Peace: who calls thee to counsel?
_Lieu_. Why, if there be a Wench--
_Leo_. 'Tis fit thou know her:
_Enter_ 2 Gentlemen.
That I'le say for thee, and as fit thou art for her,
Let her be mewed or stopt: how is it Gentlemen?
_1 Gent_. He's wondrous discontent, he'l speak to no man.
_2 Gent_. H'as taken his Chamber close, admits no entrance;
Tears in his eyes, and cryings out.
_Host_. 'Tis so, Sir,
And now I wish myself half hang'd ere I went this journey.
_Leo_. What is this Woman?
_Lieu_. I.
_Host_. I cannot tell ye,
But handsome as Heaven.
_Lieu_. She is not so high I hope, Sir.
_Leo_. Where is she?
_Lieu_. I, that would be known.
_Leo_. Why, Sirrah.
_Host_. I cannot show ye neither;
The King has now dispos'd of her.
_Leo_. There lyes the matter:
Will he admit none to come to comfort him?
_1 Gent_. Not any near, nor, let 'em knock their hearts out,
Will never speak.
_Lieu_. 'Tis the best way if he have her;
For look you, a man would be loth to be disturb'd in's pastime;
'Tis every good mans case.
_Leo_. 'Tis all thy living,
We must not suffer this, we dare not suffer it:
For when these tender souls meet deep afflictions,
They are not strong enough to struggle with 'em,
But drop away as Snow does, from a mountain,
And in the torrent of their own sighs sink themselves:
I will, and must speak to him.
_Lieu_. So must I too:
He promised me a charge.
_Leo_. Of what? of Children
Upon my Conscience, thou hast a double company,
And all of thine own begetting already.
_Lieu_. That's all one,
I'le raise 'em to a Regiment, and then command 'em,
When they turn disobedient, unbeget 'em:
Knock 'em o'th' head, and put in new.
_Leo_. A rare way;
But for all this, thou art not valiant enough
To dare to see the Prince now?
_Lieu_. Do ye think he's angry?
_1 Gent_. Extreamly vext.
_2 Gent_. To the endangering of any man comes near him.
_1 Gent_. Yet, if thou couldst but win him out,
What e're thy suit were,
Believe it granted presently.
_Leo_. Yet thou must think though,
That in the doing he may break upon ye,
And--
_Lieu_. If he do not kill me.
_Leo_. There's the question.
_Lieu_. For half a dozen hurts.
_Leo_. Art thou so valiant?
_Lieu_. Not absolutely so neither: no it cannot be,
I want my impostumes, and my things about me,
Yet I'le make danger, Colonel.
_Leo_. 'Twill be rare sport,
Howe're it take; give me thy hand; if thou dost this,
I'le raise thee up a horse Troop, take my word for't.
_Lieu_. What may be done by humane man.
_Leo_. Let's go then.
_1 Gent_. Away before he cool: he will relapse else. [_Ex._
_SCENA III._
_Enter Antigonus, Menippus, and Leucippe._
_Ant_. Will she not yield?
_Leu_. For all we can urge to her;
I swore you would marry her, she laugh'd extreamly,
And then she rail'd like thunder.
_Ant_. Call in the _Magician_. _Enter_ Magician _with a Bowl._
I must, and will obtain her, I am ashes else.
Are all the Philters in? Charms, Powders, Roots?
_Mag_. They are all in; and now I only stay
The invocation of some helping Spirits.
_Ant_. To your work then, and dispatch.
_Mag_. Sit still, and fear not.
_Leu_. I shall ne'r endure these sights.
_Ant_. Away with the Woman: go wait without. [_Exit._
_Leu_. When the Devil's gone, pray call me.
_Ant_. Be sure you make it powerful enough.
_Mag_. Pray doubt not-- _He Conjures._
A SONG.
_Rise from the Shades below,
All you that prove
The helps of looser Love;
Rise and bestow
Upon this Cup, what ever may compel
By powerful Charm, and unresisted Spell,
A Heart un-warm'd to melt in Loves desires.
Distill into this Liquor all your fires:
Heats, longings, tears,
But keep back frozen fears;
That she may know, that has all power defied,
Art is a power that will not be denied._
The ANSWER.
_I Obey, I Obey,
And am come to view the day,
Brought along, all may compel,
All the Earth has, and our Hell:
Here's a little, little Flower,
This will make her sweat an hour,
Then unto such flames arise,
A thousand joys will not suffice.
Here's the powder of the Moon,
With which she caught_ Endymion;
_The powerful tears that_ Venus _cryed,
When the Boy_ Adonis _dyed,
_Here's _Medea'_s Charm, with which_
Jasons _heart she did bewitch,_
Omphale _this Spell put in,
When she made the _Libyan_ spin.
This dull root pluckt from _Lethe_ flood,
Purges all pure thoughts, and good.
These I stir thus, round, round, round,
Whilst our light feet beat the ground._
_Mag_. Now Sir, 'tis full, and whosoever drinks this
Shall violently doat upon your person,
And never sleep nor eat unsatisfied:
So many hours 'twill work, and work with Violence;
And those expired, 'tis done. You have my art, Sir.
_Enter Leucippe._
_Ant_. See him rewarded liberally--_Leucippe_.
Here, take this bowl, and when she calls for Wine next,
Be sure you give her this, and see her drink it;
Delay no time when she calls next.
_Leu_. I shall, Sir.
_Ant_. Let none else touch it on your life.
_Leu_. I am charg'd, Sir.
_Ant_. Now if she have an antidote art let her 'scape me. [_Exeunt._
_SCENA IV._
_Enter Leontius, Lieutenant, Gent._
_1 Gent_. There's the door, Lieutenant, if you dare do any thing.
_Leo_. Here's no man waits.
_1 Gent_. H' as given a charge that none shall,
Nor none shall come within the hearing of him:
Dare ye go forward?
_Lieu_. Let me put on my Skull first.
My head's almost beaten into th' pap of an Apple.
Are there no Guns i'th' door?
_Leo_. The Rogue will do it.
And yet I know he has no Stomach to't.
_Lieu_. What loop-holes are there when I knock for stones,
For those may pepper me? I can perceive none.
_Leo_. How he views the Fortification.
_Lieu_. Farewel Gentlemen,
If I be kill'd--
_Leo_. We'll see thee buried bravely.
_Lieu_. Away, how should I know that then? I'll knock softly.
Pray heaven he speak in a low voice now to comfort me:
I feel I have no heart to't:--Is't well, Gentlemen?
Colonel, my Troop--
_Leo_. A little louder.
_Lieu_. Stay, stay;
Here is a window, I will see, stand wide.
By ---- he's charging of a Gun.
_Leo_. There's no such matter.
There's no body in this room.
_Lieu_. O 'twas a fire-shovel:
Now I'll knock louder; if he say who's there?
As sure he has so much manners, then will I answer him
So finely & demurely; my Troop Colonel-- [knocks louder.
_1 Gent_. Knock louder, Fool, he hears not.
_Lieu_. You fool, do you.
Do and you dare now.
_1 Gent_. I do not undertake it.
_Lieu_. Then hold your peace, and meddle with your own matters.
_Leo_. Now he will knock. [Knocks louder.
_Lieu_. Sir, Sir, will't please you hear Sir?
Your Grace, I'll look again, what's that?
_Leo_. He's there now.
Lord! How he stares! I ne'r yet saw him thus alter'd:
Stand now, and take the Troop.
_Lieu_. Would I were in't,
And a good horse under me: I must knock again,
The Devil's at my fingers ends: he comes now.
Now Colonel, if I live--
_Leo_. The Troop's thine own Boy.
_Enter_ Demetrius, _a Pistol._
_Dem_. What desperate fool, ambitious of his ruine?
_Lieu_. Your Father would desire ye, Sir, to come to dinner.
_Dem_. Thou art no more.
_Lieu_. Now, now, now, now.
_Dem_. Poor Coxcomb:
Why do I aim at thee? [_Exit._
_Leo_. His fear has kill'd him.
_Enter Leucippe with a Bowl._
_2 Gent_. I protest he's almost stiff: bend him and rub him,
Hold his Nose close, you, if you be a woman,
Help us a little: here's a man near perish'd.
_Leu_. Alas alas, I have nothing here about me.
Look to my Bowl; I'll run in presently
And fetch some water: bend him, and set him upwards.
_Leo_. A goodly man-- [_Exit._
Here's a brave heart: he's warm again: you shall not
Leave us i'th' lurch so, Sirrah.
_2 Gent_. Now he breaths too.
_Leo_. If we had but any drink to raise his Spirits.
What's that i'th' Bowl? upon my life, good Liquor,
She would not own it else.
_1 Gent_. He sees.
_Leo_. Look up Boy.
And take this Cup, and drink it off; I'll pledge thee.
Guide it to his mouth, he swallows heartily.
_2 Gent_. Oh! fear and sorrow's dry; 'tis off--
_Leo_. Stand up man.
_Lieu_. Am I not shot?
_Leo_. Away with him, and chear him:
Thou hast won thy Troop.
_Lieu_. I think I won it bravely.
_Leo_. Go, I must see the Prince, he must not live thus;
And let me hear an hour hence from ye.
Well, Sir-- [_Exeunt Gent. and Lieu._
_Enter Leucippe with water._
_Leu_. Here, here: where's the sick Gentleman?
_Leo_. He's up, and gone, Lady.
_Leu_. Alas, that I came so late.
_Leo_. He must still thank ye;
Ye left that in a Cup here did him comfort.
_Leu_. That in the Bowl?
_Leo_. Yes truly, very much comfort,
He drank it off, and after it spoke lustily.
_Leu_. Did he drink it all?
_Leo_. All off.
_Leu_. The Devil choak him;
I am undone: h'as twenty Devils in him;
Undone for ever, left he none?
_Leo_. I think not.
_Leu_. No, not a drop: what shall become of me now?
Had he no where else to swound? a vengeance swound him:
Undone, undone, undone: stay, I can lye yet
And swear too at a pinch, that's all my comfort.
Look to him; I say look to him, & but mark what follows. [_Ex._
_Enter Demetrius._
_Leo_. What a Devil ails the Woman? here comes the Prince again,
With such a sadness on his face, as sorrow,
Sorrow her self but poorly imitates.
Sorrow of Sorrows on that heart that caus'd it.
_Dem_. Why might she not be false and treacherous to me?
And found so by my Father? she was a Woman,
And many a one of that Sex, young and fair,
As full of faith as she, have fallen, and foully.
_Leo_. It is a Wench! O that I knew the circumstance.
_Dem_. Why might not, to preserve me from this ruine,
She having lost her honour, and abused me,
My father change the forms o'th' coins, and execute
His anger on a fault she ne'r committed,
Only to keep me safe? why should I think so?
She never was to me, but all obedience,
Sweetness, and love.
_Leo_. How heartily he weeps now!
I have not wept this thirty years, and upward;
But now, if I should be hang'd I cannot hold from't
It grieves me to the heart.
_Dem_. Who's that that mocks me?
_Leo_. A plague of him that mocks ye: I grieve truly,
Truly, and heartily to see you thus, Sir:
And if it lay in my power, gods are my witness,
Who e'r he be that took your sweet peace from you;
I am not so old yet, nor want I spirit--
_Dem_.No more of that, no more _Leontius_,
Revenges are the gods: our part is sufferance:
Farewell, I shall not see thee long.
_Leo_. Good Sir, tell me the cause, I know there is a woman in't;
Do you hold me faithful? dare you trust your Souldier?
Sweet Prince, the cause?
_Dem_. I must not, dare not tell it,
And as thou art an honest man, enquire not.
_Leo_. Will ye be merry then?
_Dem_. I am wondrous merry.
_Leo_. 'Tis wondrous well: you think now this becomes ye.
Shame on't, it does not, Sir, it shews not handsomely;
If I were thus; you would swear I were an Ass straight;
A wooden ass; whine for a Wench?
_Dem_. Prithee leave me.
_Leo_. I will not leave ye for a tit.
_Dem. Leontius?_
_Leo_. For that you may have any where for six pence,
And a dear penny-worth too.
_Dem_. Nay, then you are troublesome.
_Leo_. Not half so troublesom as you are to your self, Sir;
Was that brave Heart made to pant for a placket:
And now i'th' dog-days too, when nothing dare love!
That noble Mind to melt away and moulder
For a hey nonny, nonny! Would I had a Glass here,
To shew ye what a pretty toy ye are turn'd to.
_Dem_. My wretched Fortune.
_Leo_. Will ye but let me know her?
I'll once turn Bawd: go to, they are good mens offices,
And not so contemptible as we take 'em for:
And if she be above ground, and a Woman;
I ask no more; I'll bring her o' my back, Sir,
By this hand I will, and I had as lieve bring the Devil,
I care not who she be, nor where I have her;
And in your arms, or the next Bed deliver her,
Which you think fittest, and when you have danc'd your galliard.
_Dem_. Away, and fool to them are so affected:
O thou art gone, and all my comfort with thee!
Wilt thou do one thing for me?
_Leo_. All things i'th' World, Sir,
Of all dangers.
_Dem_. Swear.
_Leo_. I will.
_Dem_. Come near me no more then.
_Leo_. How?
_Dem_. Come no more near me:
Thou art a plague-sore to me. [_Exit._
_Leo_. Give you good ev'n Sir;
If you be suffer'd thus, we shall have fine sport.
I will be sorry yet.
_Enter 2 Gentlemen._
_1 Gent_. How now, how does he?
_Leo_. Nay, if I tell ye, hang me, or any man else
That hath his nineteen wits; he has the bots I think,
He groans, and roars, and kicks.
_2 Gent_. Will he speak yet?
_Leo_. Not willingly:
Shortly he will not see a man; if ever
I look'd upon a Prince so metamorphos'd,
So juggl'd into I know not what, shame take me;
This 'tis to be in love.
_1 Gent_. Is that the cause on't?
_Leo_. What is it not the cause of but bear-baitings?
And yet it stinks much like it: out upon't;
What giants, and what dwarffs, what owls and apes,
What dogs, and cats it makes us? men that are possest with it,
Live as if they had a Legion of Devils in 'em,
And every Devil of a several nature;
Nothing but Hey-pass, re-pass: where's the _Lieutenant_?
Has he gather'd up the end on's wits again?
_1 Gent_. He is alive: but you that talk of wonders,
Shew me but such a wonder as he is now.
_Leo_. Why? he was ever at the worst a wonder.
_2 Gent_. He is now most wonderful; a Blazer now, Sir.
_Leo_. What ails the Fool? and what Star reigns now Gentlemen
We have such Prodigies?
_2 Gent_. 'Twill pose your heaven-hunters;
He talks now of the King, no other language,
And with the King as he imagines, hourly.
Courts the King, drinks to the King, dies for the King,
Buys all the Pictures of the King, wears the Kings colours.
_Leo_. Does he not lye i'th' King street too?
_1 Gent_. He's going thither,
Makes prayers for the King, in sundry languages,
Turns all his Proclamations into metre;
Is really in love with the King, most dotingly,
And swears _Adonis_ was a Devil to him:
A sweet King, a most comely King, and such a King--
_2 Gent_. Then down on's marrow-bones; O excellent King
Thus he begins, Thou Light, and Life of Creatures,
Angel-ey'd King, vouchsafe at length thy favour;
And so proceeds to incision: what think ye of this sorrow?
_1 Gent_. Will as familiarly kiss the King['s] horses
As they pass by him: ready to ravish his footman.
_Leo_. Why, this is above Ela?
But how comes this?
_1 Gent_. Nay that's to understand yet,
But thus it is, and this part but the poorest,
'Twould make a man leap over the Moon to see him act these.
_2 Gent_. With sighs as though his heart would break:
Cry like a breech'd boy, not eat a bit.
_Leo_. I must go see him presently,
For this is such a gig, for certain, Gentlemen,
The Fiend rides on a Fiddle-stick.
_2 Gent_. I think so.
_Leo_. Can ye guide me to him for half an hour? I am his
To see the miracle.
_1 Gent_. We sure shall start him. [_Exeunt._
_SCENA V._
_Enter Antigonus and Leucippe._
_Ant_. Are you sure she drank it?
_Leu_. Now must I lye most confidently.
Yes Sir, she has drunk it off.
_Ant_. How works it with her?
_Leu_. I see no alteration yet.
_Ant_. There will be,
For he is the greatest Artist living made it.
Where is she now?
_Leu_. She is ready to walk out, Sir.
_Ant_. Stark mad, I know she will be.
_Leu_. So I hope, Sir.
_Ant_. She knows not of the Prince?
_Leu_. Of no man living--
_Ant_. How do I look? how do my cloaths become me?
I am not very grey.
_Leu_. A very youth, Sir,
Upon my maiden-head as smug as _April_:
Heaven bless that sweet face, 'twill undo a thousand;
Many a soft heart must sob yet, e'r that wither,
Your Grace can give content enough.
_Enter Celia with a Book._
_Ant_. I think so.
_Leu_. Here she comes, Sir.
_Ant_. How shall I keep her off me?
Go, & perfume the room: make all things ready. [_Ex. Leu._
_Cel_. No hope yet of the Prince! no comfort of him!
They keep me mew'd up here, as they mew mad folks,
No company but my afflictions.
This royal Devil again! strange, how he haunts me!
How like a poyson'd potion his eyes fright me!
Has made himself handsome too.
_Ant_. Do you look now, Lady?
You will leap anon.
_Cel_. Curl'd and perfum'd? I smell him;
He looks on's legs too, sure he will cut a caper;
God-a-mercy, dear _December_.
_Ant_. O do you smile now;
I knew it would work with you; come hither pretty one.
_Cel_. Sir.
_Ant_. I like those courtesies well; come hither and kiss me.
_Cel_. I am reading, Sir, of a short Treatise here,
That's call'd the Vanity of Lust: has your Grace seen it?
He says here, that an Old Mans loose desire
Is like the Glow-worms light, the Apes so wonder'd at:
Which when they gather'd sticks, and laid upon't,
And blew, and blew, turn'd tail, and went out presently:
And in another place he calls their loves,
Faint Smells of dying Flowers, carry no comforts;
They're doting, stinking foggs, so thick and muddy,
Reason with all his beams cannot beat through 'em.
_Ant_. How's this? is this the potion? you but fool still;
I know you love me.
_Cel_. As you are just and honest;
I know I love and honour you: admire you.
_Ant_. This makes against me, fearfully against me.
_Cel_. But as you bring your power to persecute me,
Your traps to catch mine innocence to rob me,
As you lay out your lusts to overwhelm me,
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