  Enter Lisandro, and Loretta, seuerall. Lor. My Lord Lisandro, y’are met happily. Lis. Loretta! welcome, welcome as my life. How fares my dearest Saint? Lor. Like a distressed Prisoner, whose hard fate Hath bard her from all ioy in losing you, A torment which she counts insufferable. Lis. This separation, like the stroke of death, Makes a diuorce betwixt my soule and mee; For how can I liue without her In whom my life subsists? For neuer did the Load-stone more respect The Northerne Pole, by natures kind instinct, Then my affections truly sympathize With her, the Starre of my felicitie. Lor. Therefore shee prayes you, henceforth to desist, Respecting your owne safetie: VVorthie Prince, The times are troublesome and dangerous: As for her selfe, she’s arm’d to vndergoe All malice that for you they can inflict. Lis. Oh my Loretta! thou appli’st a balme VVorse then the wound it selfe: It is impossible For me to liue at all but in her sight. But was this all shee said, That I should leaue her? Death could not ha’ spoke A word more fatall to my soule and mee: Let her inioyne mee to some other taske, Tho it were greater then the sonne of Ioue Did for his Step-dame Iuno euer act: Let it be any thing, so I may not leaue Her sweet societie. Lor. Then, here my Lord, read this. Lis. I kisse thee for her sake, whose beautious hand Hath here inclos’d so mild and sweet a doome. See what a negatiue command shee hath Impos’d vpon my sloth to visit her, As if she taxed my neglect so long: But pardon, deare Leonida, I come To intimate thy fauor for my stay, Tho thou wert garded with an host of men. But how? I must disguise me in some other shape, For this is noted, and too full of danger. Loretta, Who’s admitted best accesse Vnto thy Lady? Lor. Frier Anthonie, Her Graces Confessor. Lis. As I could wish: I know the Frier well; I must assume that shape; It is the best: Loretta, weare this Iewell for my sake; Nay, prethee take it, not as recompence, But as a token of that future good Shall crowne thy merits, with such height and honour, Fortune shall be asham’d, and held a Foole, To suffer poore desert to ouer-match her. "Exit Lis." Lor. I humbly thanke your Grace: Why, here’s a gift Able to make a Saint turne Oratrix, And pleade ’gainst Chastitie: I must confesse, Lisandro is a Noble Gentleman, and ha’s good gifts, And is, indeed, gracious with my Ladie: Yet for all that, wee poore Gentlewomen, that haue no other fortunes but our attendance, must now and then make the best vse of our places: wee haue president, and very lately too. But who comes here? my Lord Nicanor? Enter Nicanor. Here’s another Client——I must deuise some quaint deuice for him, to delude his frostie apprehension—— Oh I ha’t. Nic. Loretta, how is’t, wench? How thriues my suit, ha? Hast broke with thy Lady yet? Lor. He takes me for a Shee-Broker, but I’le fit him: I haue my Lord, but find her so obdure, That when I speake, she turnes away her eare, As if her mind were fixt on something else. The other day, finding her Grace alone, I came and mou’d your suit; told her how deare She stood in your affection; and protested, You lou’d her more then all the World beside. Nic. Good, good: proceed. Lor. At this she answer’d not a word, But kept her eye still fixt vpon me; Then I begun agen, and told her Grace (As from my selfe) how much your Honour Had merited her fauour by desert; How great you stood ith’ generall eye of all, And one selected by the King her Father, (Since Prince Lorenzo’s death) to personate The King of Sicill after his decease. Nic. Excellent good i’faith. Then what said shee? Lor. At this, I might perceiue her colour change From red to pale, and then to red againe, As if disdaine and rage had faintly stroue In her confused brest for victorie. At length, hauing recal’d her spirits, She broke forth into these words; What, wilt thou Conspire with youth and frailtie, to inforce The rule of my affection ’gainst my will? Tho’ my body be confin’d his prisoner, Yet my mind is free. With that, shee charg’d mee That I neuer should hereafter vrge your suit; And this was all the comfort that I could From her with all my diligence attaine. Nic. Cold comfort, Wench, but ’tis the generall fault Of women all, to make shew of dislike To those they most affect: and in that hope Thou shalt to her againe: No Citie Euer yeelded at first skirmish. Before, You came but to a parley, thou shalt now Giue an assault: There’s nothing batters more A womans resolution, then rich gifts; Then goe, Loretta. Lor. 'Las, my Lord, you know—— Nic. Feare nothing, Wench, giue her this chaine of pearle, With it my selfe. Lor. My Lord, I’le see what I can doe with her, But— Nic. What, Loretta? Oh, you looke for a fee: Here, take this Gold: And if thou canst preuaile, (Harke in thine eare) When I am King—— Lor. I thanke your Lordship: Ha, ha, ha.— "Exit Lor." Nic. This womans weaknesse was wel wrought vpon, Her words may take effect: ’Tis often seene That women are like Diamonds; nothing cuts so soone As their owne powder: yet there is one more Will make a happy second, Frier Anthonie her Confessor; such men as hee Can preuaile much with credulous Penitents In causes of perswasion. Hoe, within? Enter Seruant. Scan. Your Lordship call? Nic. Bid Frier Anthonie Come visit mee with all speed possible, I could not thinke vpon a better Agent. Their seeming sanctitie makes all their acts Sauour of Truth, Religion, Pietie, And proue that loue’s a heauenly Charitie, Without which there’s no safetie. Here he comes. Enter Lisandro like a Frier. Lis. The benediction of the blessed Saints Attend your honour. Nic. Welcome, holy Frier. Lis. And crowne your wishes to your hearts desire. Nic. Amen, Anthonio, I’le say Amen to that; but yet the meanes To make mee happy, lies within thy power. Lis. Your Honour may command mee. Nic. Then ’tis thus; Thou know’st with what a generall consent Of all Sicilia I was prelected By my dread Soueraigne, to espouse the faire Yet fond Leonida; granting me for dower The Crowne of Sicil, after his decease. Lis. I hope, my Lord, there’s none dares question that. Nic. To which intent, how many hopefull Princes Haue beene non-suted, onely for my sake? And to preuent all meanes of their accesse, Establish’d mee her Guardian: Now, the Princesse, Although I haue her Person, yet her Heart I find estrang’d from mee, and all my loue Is quitted with contempt. Lis. The Heauens forbid. Nic. It is forbidden both by Heauen and Earth, And yet Shee do’s it; and thou know’st then, Frier, My hopes are frustrate. Therefore (holy Man) Thou art her Counsel-Closet, her Confessor, Of reuerend opinion with the Princesse. Lis. I doe conceiue your Honour. Nic. Be my Orator. Lis. In what I may, my Lord. Nic. If thou preuail’st, I le make thee Metropolitane of Sicil. Lis. It shall be all my care. Nic. Then farewell, Father. "Exit Nic." Lis. All my prayers attend yee. So, here’s the fence throwne open; now my way Is made before mee: Godamercy Cowle; It is no maruell tho’ the credulous World Thought themselues safe from danger, when they were Inuested with this habit, ’tis the best, To couer, or to gaine a free accesse, That can be possible in any proiect. How finely I haue guld my Politician, That couets Loue, onely to gaine a Crowne? But if my Loue proue constant, Ile withstand All his desires with a more powerfull hand. "Exit." Enter Leonida and Loretta. Le. Tell me, Loretta, Art thou sure ’twas he? Lor. Madame, I liue not else. Le. Thou do’st delude My feares with fond impossibilities: Prethee resolue me truly, I do long Most infinitely. Lor. Not a syllable more now, And ’twould saue your life: not be-beleeu’d? Le. Nay, sweet Loretta. Troth, I doe beleeue thee. Lor. Discredited? I could fight with any liuing creature In this quarrell ’tis so iust. Le. Haue I deseru’d No more respect, then to be trifled thus? Come, prethee tell me. Lor. Yes? to delude Your feares with fond impossibilities? Le. Nay, now thou tortur’st me. Lor. Well, I haue done. But leaue your sighes, your heigh-ho’s, and ay-me’s: For I haue newes will warme you like the Sunne, And make you open like the Marigold. Le. Why, now thou rauish’st me. Lor. I heard you not cry out yet. Le. Thou takest such a delight in crossing me. Lor. 'Faith, now you talke of Crosses, Ile tell you, You haue chosen a Husband, so handsome, so complete, As if he had beene pickt Out of the Christ-Crosse row. Le. As how, I prethee? Lor. Why, Madame, thus: Ile begin with A. and so proceed to the latter end of the Alphabet, comparing his good parts as thus: for A. hee is Amiable, Bountifull, Courteous, Diligent, Eloquent, Faithfull, Gracious, Humble, Iouiall, Kind, Louing, Magnanimous, Noble, Patient, Quiet, Royall, Secret, Trustie, Vigilant, Wittie, and Xceeding Youthfull. Now for Z, he’s zealous: so I conclude, pray God hee bee not Iealous. Le. An excellent obseruation. Lor. Who doe you think’s in loue with you? The old Dragon Nicanor, that watches the fruit of your Hesperides. Le. Oh, that newes is stale. Lor. He met but iust now, and would needs know, What returne I had made of his Aduenture. But I deuised such a Tale for my old Marchant, Able to make a Bankrout at report, But he notwithstanding fraughts me agen, With that he was not able, but with this, This Chaine of Pearle. Le. Prethee, away with it, Ile not be chain’d to him. Lor. Faith, and ’tis true, a Chaine is the worst Gift A Louer can send his Mistris, ’tis such an Embleme Of bondage hereafter. Who’s that? Enter Lisandro. Le. Father. Lis. How fares my worthy Daughter? Le. Eu’n as one Deuoted vnto sorrow, griefe and mone. Lis. Then I must blame you, Ladie, you doe ill, To blast those Rosiall blossomes. Will you kill This gift of Nature, Beautie in the prime? Le. Father, I vnderstand not what you say: The other day you talkt of Penitence, Commended Patience, Sorrow and Contrition, As Antidotes against the soules decay: And now, me thinkes, you speake of no such thing. Lis. Mistake me not, deare Daughter, I spake then, Onely to mortifie the sinfull minde, But now I come with comfort, to restore Your fainting spirits that were grieu’d before: But Daughter, I must chide you. Le. Father, why? Lis. For your neglect, and too much crueltie To one that dearely loues you. Le. Whom in the name of wonder? Lor. On my life, This Frier’s made an agent in my suit. Lis. The hope of Sicill, Map of true Nobilitie, Patterne of Wisdome, Grace and Grauitie. Le. You prayse him highly, ha’s he ne’r a name? Lis. Yes, is’t my Lord Nicanor. Le. Oh, is’t he? His gray head shewes his wisdomes grauitie: And are you made his Agent, His Aduocate, to play the spokesman? Fie. Lis. Daughter, this is a worke of Charitie, A holy action to combine in one: Two different hearts in holy Vnion. Le. Frier, no more. I doe not like of these perswasions, Either ya’re not the same you seeme to be, Or all your Actions are Hypocrisie, My Faith is past alreadie, and my heart Ingag’d vnto a farre more worthy man: Lisandro is the Prince my loue hath wonne. Lis. Then here the Frier concludes: my taske is done. Le. Lisandro, my deare Loue! Lis. The same, sweet Princesse. Le. Oh, you were too aduentrous, dearest Loue, What made you vndertake this hard attempt? Lis. Your loue, sweet Lady, That makes all things easie. Le. Oh, I am made immortall with thy sight: Here let me euer liue: I feare not now The worst that Fate or Malice can afflict: I haue enough, hauing thy companie. Lis. And when I leaue to loue you, vertuous Madame, Vpon that minute, let me leaue to liue, That loue and life may both expire together. Lor. Come, leaue your prating and protesting, And get you both in, and be naught awhile. ’Tis dangerous talking here in publike, Good Frier, look my Ladie dye no Nun. "Exit Le. & Lis." Heigho! now could I wish my Sweet-heart Heere too, I feele such a tickling, somewhere About me: if he were here now, I would Neuer cast such an vnwilling deniall vpon him As I haue done, hauing so good a president as I haue. But stay, who’s this? As true as I liue, ’tis he. Oh, sweet Rogue, thou art come In the happiest minute. Enter Scanfardo. Scan. Am I, Loretta? Masse, I like that well. What, all alone? I like that better too. But where’s the Princesse? Lor. Oh, she’s safe enough! Scan. Is she indeed? I like that best of all. Lor. And so do’s shee, I warrant yee, Or any woman else, that’s in her Case: ha, ha, ha! Scan. There’s something in the wind now, that you laugh at. Lor. Nothing indeed, sweet Loue: but ha, ha! I laugh at an odde Iest. Scan. Come, I must know’t. Lor. 'Deed but you must not. Scan. Why? Dare you not trust me? Lor. Yes, I dare: but As you are a man, reueale it not. Scan. In troth, Ime angry, that you should mistrust me. Lor. The Frier, the Frier: ha, ha, ha! He that the Lord imploy’d to be his Agent, Who doe you thinke it was? Scan. Father Anthonie, wast not? Lor. The Deuill it was: no faith, It was, ha, ha, ha! It was no other, then Lisandro Prince of Naples, That stole to my Lady in that Habit, And guld your Lord most palpably. Scan. Is’t possible? And where are they now? Lor. Why? faith th’are eu’n at, Ha, ha, ha, ha! But good Sweet-heart, be silent. Scan. Not a syllable I: it was a bold attempt, Knowing ’twas death, if but discouered once. But come, Sweet-heart, weele eu’n doe, As our betters haue done before vs, The example is easly followed, Hauing so good a Schoole-mistris. Shall we to bed? Lor. Fye, seruant, how you talke? Troth you are to blame, to offer to assault The chastitie of any Gentlewoman, Vpon aduantage. Scan. Pox, leaue this forc’d modesty: for by this hand, I must enioy you now before we part. Lor. I haue so farre ingag’d my selfe, you know, ’Tis now vaine to resist. Scan. Why, now I like thee well. Where shall we meet? Lor. In the with-drawing Chamber, there I lye. Scan. Goe then, Ile follow. Lor. Ile put out the light. Scan. No matter, I shall find the way i’ the darke. Here was a strange discouerie but indeed, What will not women blab to those they loue? I am very loth to leaue my sport to night, And yet more loth to lose that rich reward My Lord will giue for this discouerie, Chiefly to be reueng’d vpon his riuall: Ile not forsake it, Venerie is sweet. But he that has good store of gold and wealth, May haue it at command, and not by stealth. "Exit." Enter Lisandro and Leonida. Lis. ’Tis late, deare Loue. Le. You shall not part from me, Good sooth, you shall not. Frier Anthonie, You say, is faithfull: for Loretta’s truth I dare ingage my life. Lis. Why, so you doe; Should she proue false, both yours and mine, you know, Are forfeit to the Law. Le. You are secure. Mistrust not then: true loue is void of feare. No danger can afflict a constant mind. This is no durance, no imprisonment, Rather a Paradise in ioying thee: My libertie alone consists in thee. Lis. That is the reason, Ime so iealous, Sweet, Since in my freedome both our liues remaine. As for my selfe, what perill could be thought, I would not vndergoe to gaine your loue? Were it to scale the flaming Ætna’s top: Whose sulphurous smoke kils with infection, Cut through the Northerne Seas, or shoote the Gulfe? Or—— Le. I doe beleeue thee, Sweet. Lis. But yet this houre Is not frequented by your Confessor, there lyes the danger. Le. I ha’ confest to thee, from morne till night, From night till morne againe, all my transgression. Enter Nicanor. Lis. Were I your Confessor, I know you would Both sinne, and be confest. Nic. Breake ope the doore. Lis. By Heauen, we are betrai’d. Le. Oh my deare Loue. Lis. My thoughts presag’d as much. What shall we doe? "Enter Nicanor and a Guard." Le. Do not resist, Lisandro, stand: the worst, We can but dye. Oh, this Loretta, false, inhumane wretch! Nic. Lay hands vpon them both. Is’t so indeed? Is this the zeale of your Confession? I feare, death giues the absolution. Le. Hence, doting Foole, more welcome far is death, Then to bee linkt to Ages Leprosie. "Exeunt." Nic. Beare vm away into their seuerall Wards. Let them be guarded strongly, till such time I shall acquaint my Soueraigne with this Plot. Rather then lose the Royall Dignitie, Ile striue to ruine a whole Progenie. "Exit." |
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