THE PILGRIM.

Previous
Francis Beaumont

A
COMEDY.

Persons Represented in the Play.

  • Governour, of Segovia.
  • Verdugo, a Captain under him.
  • Alphonso, an old angry Gentleman.
  • Curio, } two Gentlemen, friends to Alphonso.
  • Seberto, }
  • Pedro, the Pilgrim, a noble Gentleman, Servant to Alinda.
  • An old Pilgrim.
  • Lopes, } two Out-laws under Roderigo.
  • Jaques, }
  • Roderigo, rival to Pedro, Captain of the Out-laws.
  • A Gentleman, of the Country.
  • Courtiers.
  • Porter.
  • Master & } of the Mad folks.
  • Keepers, }
  • 3 Gentlemen.
  • 4 Peasants.
  • A Scholar, }
  • A Parson, } Madmen.
  • An English-man, }
  • Jenkin, }
  • Fool.

WOMEN.

  • Alinda, Daughter to Alphonso, Pedro's Lady.
  • Juletta, Alinda's Maid, a witty Lass.
  • Ladies.

The Scene Spain.

The principal Actors were,

  • Joseph Taylor.
  • Nicholas Toolie.
  • Robert Benfield.
  • John Thompson.
  • John Lowin.
  • John Underwood.
  • George Birch.
  • James Horn.

Actus Primus. Scena Prima.

Enter Alphonso, Curio, and Seberto.

Curio Signior Alphonso, ye are too rugged to her,
 Believe too full of harshness.
Alph. Yes, it seems so.
Seb. A Father of so sweet a child, so happy,
 Fye, Sir, so excellent in all endowments,
 In blessedness of beauty, such a mirror.
Alph. She is a fool, away.
Seb. Can ye be angry?
 Can any wind blow rough, upon a blossom
 So fair, and tender? Can a Fathers nature,
 A noble Fathers too?
Alp. All this is but prating:
 Let her be rul'd; let her observe my humour,
 With my eyes let her see; with my ears listen;
 I am her Father: I begot her, bred her,
 And I will make her—
Cur. No doubt ye may compel her,
 But what a mischievous, unhappy fortune
 May wait upon this will of yours, as commonly
 Such forcings ever end in hates and ruines.
Alph. Is't not a man I wish her to? a strong man?
 What can she have? what could she have? a Gentleman?
 A young man? and an able man? a rich man?
 A handsome man? a valiant man? do you mark me?
 None of your pieced-companions, your pin'd-Gallants,
 That flie to fitters, with every flaw of weather:
 None of your impt bravadoes: what can she ask more?
 Is not a metal'd man fit for a woman?
 A strong chin'd-man? I'le not be fool'd, nor flurted.
Seb. I grant ye Roderigo is all these,
 And a brave Gentleman: must it therefore follow
 Upon necessity she must doat upon him?
 Will ye allow no liberty in choosing?
Cur. Alas she is tender yet.
Alp. Enough, enough, enough, Sir:
 She is malleable: she'll endure the hammer,
 And why not that strong workman that strikes deepest?
 Let me know that! she is fifteen, with the vantage,
 And if she be not ready now for marriage—
Seb. You know he is a banish'd man: an Out-law;
 And how he lives: his nature rough, and bloody
 By customary Rapines: now, her sweet humour
 That is as easie as a calm, and peaceful,
 All her affections, like the dews on Roses,
 Fair as the flowers themselves: as sweet and gentle:
 How would you have these meet?
Alp. A bed, a bed, Sir:
 Let her be the fairest Rose, and the sweetest,
 Yet I know this fair Rose must have her prickles:
 I grant ye Roderigo is an out-Law.
 An easie composition calls him in again,
 He is a valiant man, and he is a rich man,
 And loves the fool: a little rough by custom:
 She'l like him ten times better. She'l doat upon him,
 If ere they come to grapling, run mad for him;
 But there is another in the wind, some Castrel
 That hovers over her, and dares her daily,
 Some flickring slave.
Cur. I dare not think so poorly.
Alp. Something there is, and must be: but I shall scent it
 And hunt it narrowly.
Seb. I never saw her yet
 Make offer at the least glance of affection,
 But still so modest, wise—
Alp. They are wise to gull us.
 There was a fellow, old Ferando's son,
 I must confess handsome, but my enemy,
 And the whole family I hate: young Pedro,
 That fellow I have seen her gaze upon,
 And turn, and gaze again, and make such offers,
 As if she would shoot her eyes like Meteors at him:
 But that cause stands removed.
Cur. You need not doubt him,
 For long since as 'twas thought on a griev'd Conscience,
 He left his Father, and his Friends: more pity:
 For truth reports he was a noble Gentleman.
Alp. Let him be what he will: he was a beggar,
 And there I'le leave him.
Seb. The more the Court must answer;
 But certainly I think, though she might favour him,
 And love his goodness, as he was an honest man:
 She never with loose eyes stuck on his person.
Alp. She is so full of Conscience too, and charity,
 And outward holiness, she will undo me:
 Relieves more Beggars, than an Hospital;

Enter Alinda, and Juletta.

And all poor Rogues, that can but say their prayers,
 And tune their pipes to Lamentations,
 She thinks she is bound to dance to: good morrow to you,
 And that's as ye deserve too: you know my mind,
 And study to observe it: do it cheerfully,
 And readily, and home.
Alin. I shall obey ye.
 But, noble Sir.
Alp. Come, come, away with your flatteries,
 And your fine phrases.
Cur. Pray ye be gentle to her.
Alp. I know 'em; and know your feats: if you will find me
 Noble and loving, seek me in your duty,
 You know I am too indulgent.
Seb. Alas, poor Lady.
Alp. To your devotions: I take no good thing from you.
 Come Gentlemen; leave pitying, and moaning of her
 And praising of her vertues: and her whim-whams,
 It makes her proud, and sturdy.
Seb. Cur. Good hours wait on ye. [Exeunt.
Alin. I thank ye, Gentlemen: I want such comforts:
 I would thank you too Father: but your cruelty
 Hath almost made me senseless of my duty,
 Yet still I must know: would I had known nothing.
 What Poor attend my charity to day, wench?
Jul. Of all sorts, Madam; your open handed bounty
 Make's 'em flock every hour: some worth your pity,
 But others that have made a trade of begging.
Alin. Wench, if they ask it truly, I must give it:
 It takes away the holy use of charity
 To examine wants.
Jul. I would you would be merry:
 A cheerful giving hand, as I think, Madam,
 Requires a heart as chearful.
Alin. Alas Juletta,
 What is there to be merry at? what joy now,
 Unless we fool our own afflictions,
 And make them shew ridiculous?
Jul. Sure, Madam,
 You could not seem thus serious, if you were married,
 Thus sad, and full of thoughts.
Alin. Married? to whom, wench?
 Thou thinkst if there be a young handsome fellow,
 As those are plentiful, our cares are quenched then.
Jul. Madam, I think a lusty handsome fellow
 If he be kind, and loving, and a right one,
 Is even as good a Pill, to purge this melancholy,
 As ever Galen gave, I am sure more natural:
 And merrier for the heart, than Wine and Saffron:
 Madam, wanton youth is such a Cataplasme.
Alin. Who has been thy Tutor, Wench?
Jul. Even my own thoughts, Lady:
 For though I be bar'd the liberty of talking,
 Yet I can think unhappily, and as near the mark, Madam,
 'Faith, marry, and be merry.
Alin. Who will have me?
 Who will be troubled with a pettish Girl?
 It may be proud, and to that vice expenceful?
 Who can assure himself, I shall live honest?
Jul. Let every man take his fortune.
Alin. And o' my Conscience
 If once I grow to breeding, a whole Kingdom
 Will not contain my stock.
Jul. The more the merrier:
 'Tis brave to be a mother of new Nations.
Alin. Why, I should bury a hundred Husbands.
Jul. 'Tis no matter!
 As long as ye leave sufficient men to stock ye.
Alin. Is this thy mirth? are these the joyes of marriage?
 Away light-headed fool; are these contentments?
 If I could find a man—
Jul. You may a thousand.
Alin. Meer men I know I may: and there a Woman
 Has liberty, (at least she'l venture for it)
 To be a monster and become the time too;
 But to enjoy a man, from whose example
 (As from a compass) we may steer our fortunes,
 Our actions, and our age; and safe arrive at
 A memory that shall become our ashes,
 Such things are few, and far to seek; to find one
 That can but rightly mannage the wild beast, Woman,
 And sweetly govern with her. But no more of this, Wench,
 'Tis not for thy discourse: Let's in, and see
 What poor afflicted wait our charity. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Enter a Porter, 4 Beggers, Pedro, and a Pilgrim.

Por. Stand off, and keep your ranks: twenty foot further:
 There louse your selves with reason and discretion.
 The Sun shines warm: the farther still the better,
 Your beasts will bolt anon, and then 'tis dangerous.
1 Beg. Heaven bless our Mistris.
Por. Does the crack go that way?
 'Twill be o'th' other side anon.
2 Beg. Pray ye friend.
Por. Your friend? and why your friend? why goodman turncoat
 What dost thou see within me, or without me,
 Or what itch dost thou know upon me, tell me,
 That I should be thy friend? what do I look like
 Any of thy acquaintance hung in Gibbets?
 Hast thou any Friends, Kindred, or Alliance,
 Or any higher ambition, than an Alms-basket?
2 Beg. I would be your worships friend.
Por. So ye shall, Sirrah,
 When I quarter the same louse with ye.
3 Beg. 'Tis twelve o'clock.
Por. 'Tis ever so with thee, when thou hast done scratching,
 For that provokes thy stomach to ring noon;
 O the infinite Seas of Porridge thou hast swallow'd!
 And yet thou lookst as if they had been but Glysters;
 Thou feedst abundance, thou hadst need of sustenance;
 Alms do you call it to relieve these Rascals?

Enter Alphonso, Curio, and Seberto.

Nothing but a general rot of sheep can satisfie 'em.
Alp. Did not I tell you, how she would undo me?
 What Marts of Rogues, and Beggers!
Seb. 'Tis charity
 Methinks, you are bound to love her for—
Alp. Yes, I warrant ye,
 If men could sale to Heaven in Porridge-pots,
 With masts of Beef, and Mutton, what a Voyage should I make!
 What are all these?
1 Beg. Poor people, and 't like your worship.
[2] Beg. Wretched poor people.
3 Beg. Very hungry people.
Alp. And very Lousy.
4 Beg. Yes forsooth, so, so.
Por. I'le undertake five hundred head about 'em,
 And that's no needy Grasier.
Alp. What are you?
Pil. Strangers that come to wonder at your charity,
 Yet people poor enough to beg a blessing.
Cur. Use them with favour, Sir, their shews are reverent,
 It seems ye are holy Pilgrims?
Pil. Ye guess right, Sir,
 And bound far off, to offer our devotions.
Alp. What make ye this way? we keep no Reliques here,
 Nor holy Shrines.
Pil. The holiest we ere heard of;
 Ye keep a living monument of goodness,
 A Daughter of that pious excellence,
 The very Shrines of Saints sink at her vertues,
 And swear they cannot hold pace with her pieties,
 We come to see this Lady: not with prophane eyes,
 Nor wanton bloods, to doat upon her beauties,
 But through our tedious wayes to beg her blessings.
Alp. This is a new way of begging, and a neat one,
 And this cries mony for reward, good store too;
 These commendations beg not with bag, and bottle;
 Well, well, the Sainting of this Woman, Gentlemen,
 I know what it must come to: these Women Saints
 Are plaguy heavy Saints: they out-weigh a he-saint
 Three thousand thick; I know: I feel.
Seb. Ye are more afraid than hurt, Sir.
Alp. Have you your commendations ready too?
 He bows, and nods.
Cur. A handsome well built person.
Alp. What Country-craver are you? nothing but motion?
 A puppet-Pilgrim?
Pil. He's a stranger, Sir;
 This four days I have Travel'd in his Company,
 But little of his business, or his Language
 As yet I have understood.
Seb. Both young and handsome,
 Only the Sun has been too saucy with him.
Alp. Would ye have mony, Sir, or meat? what kind of blessing
 Does your devotion look for? Still more ducking?
 Be there any Saints, that understand by signs only?
 More motion yet? this is the prettiest Pilgrim,
 The pink of Pilgrims: I'le be for ye, Sir;
 Do ye discourse with signs? ye are heartily welcome:
 A poor viaticum; very good gold, Sir:
 But holy men affect a better treasure.
 I kept it for your goodness, but ne'rtheless
 Since it can prove but burthensome to your holiness,
 And that you affect light prayer, fit for carriage,
 I'le put this up again.
Cur. Ye are too unreverent.
Alp. Ye talk too broad! must I give way, and wealth too
 To every toy, that carries a grave seeming?
 Must my good Angels wait on him? if the proud hilding
 Would yield but to my will, and know her duty
 I know what I would suffer.
Seb. Good Sir, be patient,
 The wrongs ye do these men, may light on you,
 Too heavy too: and then you will wish you had said less;
 A comely and sweet usage becomes strangers.
Alp. We shall have half the Kingdom strangers shortly,
 And this fond prodigality be suffer'd;
 But I must be an Ass, see 'em relieved, sirrah;
 If I were young again, I would sooner get Bear-whelps,
 And safer too, than any of these she-saints,
 But I will break her.
Cur. Such a face for certain.
Seb. Me thinks I have seen it too: but we are cozen'd;
 But fair befal thee Pilgrim, thou lookst lovely. [Exit.
Por. Will ye troop up, ye Porridge Regiment?

Enter Alinda, and Juletta.

Enter Juletta.

Jul. Madam.
Alin. Take this Key, and fetch me
 The marygold-Jewel that lies in my little Cabinet;
 I think 'tis that; what eyes had I to miss him? [Ex. Jul.
 O me, what thoughts? he had no beard then, and
 As I remember well, he was more ruddy.

Enter Juletta.

If this be he, he has a manly face yet,
 A goodly shape.
Jul. Here Madam.
Alin. Let me see it;
 'Tis so true, it must be he, or nothing,
 He spake the words just as they stand engraven here:
 I seek my self, and am but my selfs shadow;
 Alas, poor man! didst thou not meet him, Juletta?
 The Pilgrim, Wench?
Jul. He went by long ago, Madam.
Alin. I forgot to give him something.
Jul. 'Twas ill done, Lady;
 For o' my troth, he is the handsomest man
 I saw this many a day; would he had all my wealth,
 And me to boot; what ails she to grow so sullen?
Alin. Come, I forgot, but I will recompence it. [Exeunt.

Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.

Enter Alphonso, Curio, Seberto, Juletta, Porter, and Servants.

Alph. Can she slip through a Cat-hole? tell me that; resolve me;
 Can she flye in the air? is she a thing invisible?
 Gone, and none know it!
Seb. You amaze your servants.
Alph. Some pelting Rogue has watcht her hour of itching,
 And claw'd her, claw'd her, do you mark me? claw'd her;
 Some that I foster up.
Cur. They are all here, Sir.
Alph. Let 'em be where they will, they are arrant Rascals,
 And by this hand, I'll hang all.
Seb. Deal calmly;
 You will not give 'em time to answer ye.
Al. I'll choak 'em, famish 'em, what say you, Wagtail?
 You knew her mind; you were of counsel with her,
 Tell me, and tell me true.
Cur. Ask with discretion.
Alph. Discretion? hang discretion, hang ye all:
 Let me know where she is.
Jul. Would you know o' me, Sir?
Al. O' thee, Sir? I, o' thee, Sir; what art thou Sir?
Jul. Her woman, Sir, and't like your Worship, Sir.
Alph. Her Bawd, her Fiddle-stick;
 Her Lady-fairy, to oyl the doors o' nights,
 That they may open with discretion,
 Her Gin, her Nut-Crack.
Jul. 'Tis very well, Sir.
Alph. Thou lyest; 'tis damnable ill, 'tis most abominable;
 Will ye confess (Thing?)
Jul. Say I were guilty, Sir;
 I would be hang'd before I would confess;
 Is this a World to confess in?
Cur. Deal directly.
Jul. Yes, if my matter lye direct before me;
 But when I am forc'd, and ferretted.
Alph. Tell me the truth,
 And as I live, I'll give thee a new Petticoat.
Jul. And you would give me ten, I would not tell ye,
 Truths bear a greater price than you are aware of.
Seb. Deal modestly.
Jul. I do not pluck my Cloaths up.
Al. What say you, Sirrah? you? or you? are ye dumb all?
Port. I saw her last night, and't shall like your Worship,
 When I serv'd in her Livery.
Alph. What's that, Sirrah?
Port. Her Chamber-pot, and't please you.
Seb. A new Livery.
Alph. Where lay she? who lay with her?
Port. In truth, not I, Sir;
 I lay with my fellow Frederick in the flea-Chamber,
 And't like your Worship, we are almost worried.
Jul. I left her by her self, in her own Closet,
 And there I thought she had slept.
Alph. Why lay you from her?
Jul. It was her will I should; she is my Mistriss,
 And my part is obedience.
Alph. Were all the doors lock'd?
Port. All mine.
Ser. And mine; she could not get out those ways
 Unless she leapt the walls; and those are higher
 Than any Womans courage dare aspire at.
Alph. Come, you must know.
Cur. Conceal it not, but deal plain.
Jul. If I did know, and her trust lay upon me,
 Not all your angers nor your flatteries
 Should make me speak, but having no more interest
 Than I may well deliver to the air,
 I'll tell ye what I know, and tell it liberally,
 I think she is gone, because we cannot find her;
 I think she is weary of your tyranny,
 And therefore gone; may be she is in love;
 May be in love, where you show no great liking,
 And therefore gone; May be some point of Conscience,
 Or vow'd Devotion.
Alph. These are nothing, minion;
 You that can aim at these, must know the truth too.
Jul. Any more truth than this if I know, hang me,
 Or where to search for it, if I make a lye
 To gain your love, and envy my best Mistriss,
 Pin me against a wall with my heels upward.
Alph. Out of my doors.
Jul. That's all my poor petition;
 For if your house were Gold, and she not in it,
 Sir, I should count it but a Cage to whistle in.
Alph. Whore, if she be above ground, I will have her.
Jul. I would live in a Coal-pit then, were I your daughter.
Seb. Certain she does not know, Sir.
Alph. Hang her, hang her;
 She knows too much; search all the house, all corners,
 And where 'tis possible she may go out, [Ex. Servants.
 If I do find your tricks.
Jul. Reward me for 'em.
 Or if I had such tricks, you could discover
 So weak, and sleightly woven, you might look through,
 All the young Girls should hoot me out o' th' Parish;
 You are my Master, but you own an anger
 Becomes a School-Boy that hath lost his Apples;
 Will ye force things into our knowledges?
Alph. Come hither, Juletta, thou didst love me.
Jul. And do stil[l],
 You are my Ladies Father, and I reverence ye.
Alph. Thou would'st have pleas'd my humour.
Jul. Any good way,
 That carried not suspicion in't, or flattery,
 Or fail of trust.
Alph. Come, come, thou wouldst have—
Jul. Stay, Sir.
Alph. And thou hast felt my bounty for't, and shalt do.
 Dost thou want Cloaths or Money?
Jul. Both.
Alph. 'Shalt have both.
Jul. But not this way, I had rather be an Adamite,
 And bring Fig-tree leaves into fashion again.
 If you were young, Sir,
 Handsome, and fitted to a Womans appetite;
 And I a giddy-headed Girl, that car'd for nothing,
 Much might be done; then you might fumble with me,
 And think to grope out matters of some moment,
 Which now you will put too short for;
 For what you have seen hitherto
 And know by me, has been but honest service,
 Which I dare pin i'th' market-place to answer;
 And let the World, the Flesh, and Devil examine it,
 And come you in too, I dare stand your strictest.
 And so much good may do you, with your dreams of courtesie.
Alph. This is most monstrous.

Enter Porter, and Servants.

Seb. Sure she does not know, Sir;
 She durst not be so confident, and guilty.
Alph. How now, what news? what hopes and steps discovered?
 Speak any thing that's good, that tends to th' matter;
 Do you stand staring still?
1 Serv. We are no gods, Sir,
 To say she is here or there, or what she is doing;
 But we have search'd.
Port. I am sure she is not i'th' Cellar;
 For look you, Sir, if she had been i'th' Cellar—
Alph. I am sure thou hast been there.
Port. As I carried the matter,
 For I search'd every piece of Wine; yes sure, Sir,
 And every little Terse, that could but testifie;
 And I drew hard to bolt her out.
Alph. Away with him;
 Fling him i'th' Hay-mow, let him lye a mellowing;
 He stinks of Muskadel like an English Christmas;
 Are these your cares? your services?
2 Serv. Pray ye hear, Sir,
 We have found where she went out, her very footing.
Alph. Where, where? go on.
Cur. Observe then with more stayedness.
2 Ser. Searching the Garden at the little Postern
 That opens to the Park, we first discovered it.
Alph. A little foot?
1 Serv. It must be hers, or none, Sir.
Alph. How far beyond that?
1 Serv. To the Park it leads us,
 But there the ground being hard, we could not mark it.
Alph. She always kept that Key; I was a Coxcomb,
 A Fool, an Ass, to give a Girl that liberty;
 Saddle my Horses, Rogues, ye drunken Varlets,
 Your precious diligence lies in Pint-pots,
 Your Brains in Butts, my Horses, ye pin-Buttocks.
 You'll bear me Company?
Seb. We dare not leave ye,
 Unless we found a quieter soul within ye.
Cur. If we may do the Lady any service,
 Sweet, gentle Soul.
Alph. I say again, my horses,
 Are ye so hot? have ye your private Pilgrimages?
 Must ye be jumping, Joan? I'll wander with ye;
 I'll jump ye, and I'll juggle ye, my horses;
 And keep me this young Lirry-poop within doors,
 I will discover, Dame.
Jul. 'Tis fit you should, Sir,
 If ye knew what; well Love, if thou beest with her,
 Or what power else that arms her resolution,
 Conduct her fair, and keep her from this mad-man,
 Direct her to her wishes; dwell about her,
 That no dishonourable end o'rtake her,
 Danger, or want; and let me try my fortune.
Alph. You know the place we meet in?
Seb. We shall hit it.
Alph. And as ye are honest Gentlemen, endeavour.
Cur. We'l search the best we can; if she light in our hands.
Alph. I'll tye her to the horse-tail.
Seb. We know how to use her,
 But not your way, for all your state.
Alph. Make haste there;
 And get you in, and look to th' house. If you stir out, Damsel,
 Or set a foot any new motion this way,
 When I come home (which will be suddenly)
 You know my mind; if you do play the Rascal,
 I have my eyes and ears in sundry places,
 If ye do praunce.
Jul. I shall do that that's fit, Sir;
 And fit to cross your fooleries; I'll fail else:
 And so I'll to my Chamber. [Exit.
Alph. To your Prayers,
 And leave your stubborn tricks; she is not far yet,
 She cannot be, and we dividing suddenly.
Cur. Keep her from thy hands, I beseech.
Alph. Our horses;
 Come chearfully. I'll teach her to run gadding. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Enter Roderigo, and four Out-Laws.

1 Out-law. Captain, y'are not merry.
Rod. We get nothing,
 We have no sport; whoring and drinking spoils us,
 We keep no Guards.
2 Out-law. There come no Passengers,
 Merchants, nor Gentlemen, nor whosoever,
 But we have tribute.
Rod. And whilst we spend that idlely,
 We let those pass that carry the best purchase.
 I'll have all search'd, and brought in: Rogues, and Beggars,
 Have got the trick now to become Bank-masters.
 I'll have none scape; only my friends and neighbours,
 That may deliver to the King my innocence;
 Those I would have regarded; 'tis policy.
 But otherwise nor gravities, nor shadows,
 Appear they how they will, they may have purses,
 For they shall pay.
3 Out-law. You speak now like a Captain.
 And if we spare, fley us, and coin our Cassocks,
 Will ye look blith?
Rod. You hear no preparation
 The King intends against us yet?
4 Out-law. Not a word, Sir,
 Good man, he's troubled with matter of more moment,
 Hummings of higher nature vex his brains, Sir,
 Do not we see his Garrisons?
Rod. Who are out now?
4 Out-law. Good fellows, Sir, that if there be any purchase stirring
 Will strike it dead; Jaques, and Lopez, Lads,
 That know their Quarters, as they know their Knapsacks;
 And will not off.
Rod. Where is the Boy ye brought me?
 A pretty Lad, and of a quick capacity,
 And bred up neatly.
1 Out-law. He's within at meat, Sir,
 The Knave is hungry, yet he seasons all
 He eats or drinks with many tears and sighings,
 The saddest appetite I ever lookt on;
 The Boy is young, 'tis fear, and want of company,
 He knows, and loves; use him not rough, and harshly,
 He will be quickly bold; I'll entertain him;
 I want a pretty Boy to wait upon me,
 And when I am sad or sleepy, to prate to me;
 Besides there's something in his face I like well.
 And still the more I look, more like; let him want nothing,
 And use him gently, all.
2 Out-law. Here's a small Box, Sir,
 We took about him, which he griev'd to part with,
 May be some Wealth.
Rod. Alas, some little money
 The poor Knave carried to defray his lodgings,
 I'll give it him again, and add unto it.
 'Twere sin to open such a petty purchase.

Enter Lopez, and Jaques with Pedro.

How now, who is this? what have you brought me, Souldiers?
Lop. We know not well, what a strange staving fellow,
 Sullen enough I am sure.
Rod. Where took ye him?
Jaq. Upon the Skirt o' th' wood, viewing, and gaping,
 And sometime standing still, as if he had meant
 To view the best accesses to our quarters;
 Money he has enough; and when we threatned him,
 He smil'd, and yielded; but not one word utter'd.
Lop. His habit says he's holy, if his heart
 Keep that proportion too, 'tis best ye free him,
 We keep his wallet here; I am sure 'tis heavy.
Rod. Pilgrim, come hither, Sir, are you a Pilgrim?
 A piece of pretty holiness; do you shrink, Sir?
 A smug young Saint. What Country were you born in?
 Ye have a Spanish face; In a dumb Province?
 And had your Mother too this excellent Vertue?
 No tongue do you say? sure she was a matchless woman;
 What a fine family is this man sprung from!
 Certain he was begotten in a Calm,
 When all was hush'd; the Midwife was dumb Midnight;
 Are ye seal'd up? or do you scorn to answer?
 Ye are in my hands, and I have Medicines for ye
 Can make ye speak: pull off his Bonnet, Souldiers;
 Ye have a speaking face.
Lop. I am sure a handsome;
 This Pilgrim cannot want She-Saints to pray to.
Rod. Stand nearer, ha?
Ped. Come, do your worst, I am ready.
Rod. Is your tongue found? go off, and let me talk with him;
 And keep your watches round.
All. We are ready, Captain.
Rod. So, now what are ye?
Ped. Am I?
 My habit shews me what I am.
Rod. Thy heart
 A desperate fool, and so thy fate shall tell thee.
 What Devil brought thee hither? for I know thee.
Ped. I know thou dost, and since it is my fortune
 To light into thy fingers, I must think too
 The most malicious of all Devils brought me,
 Yet some men say thou art noble.
Rod. Not to thee,
 That were a benefit to mock the Giver;
 Thy father hates my friends, and family,
 And thou hast been the heir of all this malice.
 Can two such storms meet then, and part with kissing?
Ped. You have the mightier hand.
Rod. And so I'll use it.
Ped. I cannot hinder ye; less can I beg
 Submissive at his knees that knows not honour,
 That bears the Stamp of Man, and not his Nature;
 Ye may do what ye please.
Rod. I will do all.
Ped. And when you have done all, which is my poor ruine,
 (For farther your base malice cannot venture)
 Dishonours self will cry you out a Coward.
 Hadst thou been brave, and noble, and an Enemy,
 Thou wouldst have sought me whilst I carried Arms,
 Whilst my good Sword was my profession,
 And then have cryed out, Pedro, I defie thee;
 Then stuck Alphonso's quarrel on the point,
 The mercenary anger thou serv'st under,
 To get his Daughter. Then thou shouldst have brav'd me,
 And arm'd with all thy Families hate upon thee,
 Done something worthy feat; Now poor and basely
 Thou setst Toyls to betray me; and like the Pesant,
 That dares not meet the Lion in the face,
 Dig'st crafty pit-falls: thou sham'st the Spanish Honour;
 Thou hast neither point of Man, nor Conscience in thee.
Rod. Sir, Sir, y'are brave, ye plead now in a Sanctuary,
 You think your Pilgrims Bulwark can defend ye;
 You will not find it so.
Ped. I look not for't.
 The more unhallowed soul hast thou to offer it.
Rod. When you were bravest, Sir, and your sword sharpest,
 I durst affront ye; when the Court Sun gilded ye,
 And every cry was the young hopeful Pedro,
 Alonso's sprightly Son; then durst I meet ye,
 When you were Master of this fame, and fashion,
 And all your glories in the full Meridian,
 The Kings proof-favour buckled on your body;
 Had we then come to competition,
 Which I have often sought.
Pedro. And I desir'd too.
Rod. You should have seen this Sword, how e're you slight it,
 And felt it too; sharper than sorrow felt it,
 In execution quicker than thy scorns;
 Thou should'st have seen all this, and shrunk to see it.
 Then like a Gentleman I would have us'd thee,
 And given thee the fair fortune of thy being,
 Then with a Souldiers arm I had honour'd thee;
 But since thou stealst upon me like a Spie,
 And thief-like thinkst that holy case shall carry thee
 Through all my purposes, and so betray me,
 Base as the act, thy end be, and I forget thee.
Ped. What poor evasions thou buildst on, to abuse me!
 The goodness of a man ne'r taught these principles.
 I come a Spie? durst any noble spirit
 Put on this habit, to become a Traitor?
 Even in an Enemy shew me this antipathy
 Where there is Christian faith, and this not reverenced:
 I come a Spie? no Roderigo, no,
 A hater of thy person, a maligner?
 So far from that, I brought no malice with me,
 But rather when I meet thee, tears to soften thee;
 When I put on this habit, I put off
 All fires, all angers, all those starts of youth
 That clapt too rank a bias to my being,
 And drew me from the right mark all should aim at;
 In stead of stubborn steel, I put on prayers;
 For rash and hasty heats, a sweet repentance:
 Long weary steps, and vows, for my vain-glories.
 O Roderigo.
Rod. If thy tongue could save thee,
 Prating be thy bail, thou hast a rare benefit.
 Souldiers, come out, and bring a halter with ye;
 I'le forgive your holy habit, Sir, but I'le hang you.

Enter Out-laws, Lope[z], Jaques.

1 Out-l. Wherefore this halter Captain?
Rod. For this traytor.
 Go, put it on him, and then tie him up.
1. Do you want a Band Sir? this is a course wearing,
 'Twill fit but scurvily upon this collar;
 But patience is as good as a French Pickadel.
Lop. What's his fault, Captain?
Rod. 'Tis my will he perish,
 And that's his fault.
Ped. A Captain of good government.
 Come Souldiers, come, ye are roughly bred, and bloody,
 Shew your obedience, and the joy ye take
 In executing impious commands;
 Ye have a Captain seals your liberal pardons,
 Be no more Christians, put religion by,
 'Twill make ye cowards: feel no tenderness,
 Nor let a thing call'd conscience trouble ye;
 Alas, 'twill breed delay. Bear no respect
 To what I seem; were I a Saint indeed,
 Why should that stagger ye? you know not holiness:
 To be excellent in evil, is your goodness;
 And be so, 'twill become ye: have no hearts,
 For fear you should repent: that will be dangerous:
 For if there be a knocking there, a pricking,
 And that pulse beat back to your considerations,
 How ye have laid a stiff hand on Religion—
Rod. Truss him I say.
Ped. And violated faith.
Rod. Hear him not prate.
Ped. Why, what a thing will this be?
 What strange confusion then will breed among ye?
Rod. Will none of ye obey?
Ped. What Devils vex ye?
 The fears ye live in and the hourly dangers
 Will be delights to these: those have their ends,
 But these outlive all time, and all repentance:
 And if it creep into your conscience once,
 Be sure ye lock that close.
Rod. Why stand ye gazing?
Ped. Farewel sleep, peace, all that are humane comforts,
 Better ye had been Trees, or Stones, and happier;
 For those die here, and seek no further being,
 Nor hopes, nor punishments.
Rod. Rots take ye, Rascals.
Jaq. What would you have us do?
Rod. Dispatch the prater.
Jaq. And have religious blood hang on our consciences?
 We are bad enough already: sins enough
 To make our graves even loath us.
Rod. No man love me?
Lop. Although I be a thief, I am no hangman;
 They are two mens trades, and let another execute.
 Lay violent hands on holy things?
Rod. Base Cowards,
 Put to your powers, ye rascals, I command ye.
 Holy, or unholy, if I say it,
 I'le have it done.
1 Out-l. If I do't, let me starve for't.
2. Or I.
3. Or I: we will obey things handsom,
 And bad enough, and overdo obedience:
 But to be made such instruments of mischief.
Jaq. I have done as many villanies as another,
 And with as little reluctation,
 Let me come clear of these, and wipe that score off.
 Put me upon a felt and known perdition?
Rod. Have ye conspir'd, ye slaves?
Ped. How vilely this shows,
 In one that would command anothers temper,
 And bear no bound in's own?
Rod. Am I thus jaded?
Ped. Is it my life thou long'st for Roderigo?
 And can no sacrifice appease thy malice,
 But my blood spilt? do it thy self, dispatch it;
 And as thou takst the whole revenge unto thee,
 Take the whole sin upon thee; and be mighty,
 Mighty in evil, as thou art in anger:
 And let not these poor wretches houl for thy sake.
 Those things that in thine own glass seem most monstrous,
 Wouldst thou abuse their weak sights with, for amiable?
 Is it, thou thinkst to fear me with thy terrors,
 And into weak condition draw my vertue?
 If I were now to learn to die I would sue thee:
 Or did I fear death, then I would make thee glorious.
 But knowing what, and how far I can suffer;
 And all my whole life being but deaths preface,
 My sleep but at next door.
Rod. Are ye so valiant?
 I'le make ye feel: I'le make ye know, and feel too;
 And Rascals, you shall tremble. Keep him here,
 And keep him safe too: if he scape your guards—
Ped. Fear not, I will not.
Rod. As I live, ye die for't;
 I will not be thus baffled. [Exit.
Ja. What a Devil have ye done, Pilgrim? or what mischief
 Have you conspir'd, that he should rage and rave thus?
 Have you kill'd his Father, or his Mother? or strangled any of his kindred?
Lop. Has he no Sisters? have you not been bouncing
 About their belly-pieces?
Jaq. Why should that be dangerous,
 Or any way deserve death? is it not natural?
 Bar us the Christian liberty of women,
 And build us up with brick, take away our free-stone.
1 Out-l. Because thou art holier than he, upon my conscience
 He does not envy thee: that's not his quarrel;
 For, look you, that might be compounded without prayers.
Lop. Nor that thou seemst an honester man: for here
 We have no trading with such Tinsel-stuff;
 To be an excellent thief, is all we aim at.
 Wilt thou take a spit and stride, and see if thou canst outrun us?
Ped. I scorn to shift his fury, keep your obedience;
 For though your government admit no president,
 Keep your selves carefull in't.
Jaq. Thou wilt be hang'd then.
Ped. I cannot die with fewer faults upon me.
2 Out-l. 'Tis ten to one he will shoot him: for the Devil's in him
 If he hang him himself.
Lop. He has too proud a nature:
 He will compel some one.
Jaq. I am confident.
Lop. And so are all I think.
Ped. Be not molested,
 If I must die, let it not trouble you;
 It stirs not me: it is the end I was born for.
 Only this honest office I desire ye,
 (If there be courtesie in men of your breed)
 To see me buried; not to let his fury
 Expose my body to the open violence
 Of beasts, and fowls: so far I urge humanity.

Enter Roderigo, Alinda.

[Exeunt.

Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.

Enter Roderigo, Jaques, Lopez, and three Out-Laws.

Rod. None of you know her?
Jaq. Alas Sir, we never saw her:
 Nor ever heard of her, but from your report.
Rod. No happy eye?
Lop. I do not think 'tis she, Sir,
 Me thinks a woman dares not.
Rod. Thou speak'st poorly,
 What dares not woman, when she is provok'd?
 Or what seems dangerous to Love, or fury?
 That it is she, this has confirm'd me certain,
 These Jewels here, a part of which I sent her,
 And though unwilling, yet her Father wrought her
 To take, and wear.
Lop. A wench, and we not know it?
 And among us? where were our understandings?
 I could have ghess'd unhappily: have had some feeling
 In such a matter: Here are as pretty fellows,
 At the discovery of such a Jigambob:
 A handsome wench too! sure we have lost our faculties,
 We have no motions: what should she do here, Sir?
Rod. That's it that troubles me: O that base rascal!
 There lies the misery: how cunningly she quit him,
 And how she urg'd! had ye been constant to me,
 I ne're had suffer'd this.
1 Out-l. Ye might have hang'd him:
 And would he had been hang'd, that's all we care for't:
 So our hands had not don't.
Rod. She is gone again too,
 And what care have ye for that? gone, and contemn'd me;
 Master'd my will, and power, and now laughs at me.
Lop. The Devil that brought her hither, Sir I think
 Has carryed her back again invisible,
 For we ne're knew, nor heard of her departure.
Jaq. No living thing came this night through our watches.
 She went with you.
Rod. Was by me till I slept,
 But when I wak'd, and call'd: O my dull pate here,
 If I had open'd this when it was given me,
 This Roguy Box.

Enter Alphonso, and 2 Out-laws.

Lop. We could but give it ye.
Rod. Pilgrim? a Pox o' Pilgrims, there the game goes,
 There's all my fortune fled; I know it, I feel it.
Al. Bring me unto thy Captain: where's thy Captain?
 I am founder'd, melted, some fairy thing or other
 Has led me dancing; the Devil has haunted me
 I'th' likeness of a voyce: give me thy Captain.
2 Out-l. He's here Sir, there he stands.
Al. How do'st thou Captain?
 I have been fool'd and jaded, made a dog-bolt.
 My Daughter's run away: I have been haunted too,
 I have lost my horse; I am hungry, and out of my wits also.
Rod. Come in: I'le tell you what I know: strange things.
 And take your ease; I'le follow her recovery,
 These shall be yours the whil'st, and do ye service.
Al. Let me have drink enough: I am almost choak'd too.
Rod. You shall have any thing; what think you now, Souldiers?
Jaq. I think a woman, is a woman, that's any thing.
 The next we take, we'l search a little nearer,
 We'l not be boyed again with a pair of breeches. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Enter Juletta.

Jul. He's gone in here: This is Roderigo's quarter,
 And I'le be with him soon: I'le startle him,
 A little better than I have done: all this long night
 I have le[d] him out o'th' way, to try his patience,
 And made him swear, and curse; and pray, and swear again,
 And cry for anger; I made him leave his horse too,
 Where he can never find him more; whistled to him,
 And then he would run through thick and thin, to reach me,
 And down in this ditch; up again, and shake him,
 And swear some certain blessings: then into that bush
 Pop goes his pate, and all his face is comb'd over,
 And I sit laughing: a hundred tricks, I have serv'd him:
 And I will double 'em, before I leave him;
 I'le teach his anger to dispute with women.
 But all this time, I cannot meet my Mistress,
 I cannot come to comfort her; that grieves me,
 For sure she is much afflicted: till I do,
 I'le haunt thy Ghost Alphonso; I'le keep thee waking,
 Yes, I must get a Drum: I am villanous weary,
 And yet I'le trot about these villages
 Till I have got my will, and then have at ye.
 I'le make your anger drop out at your elbows e're I leave ye. [Exit.

SCENE III.

Enter Seberto, and Curio.

Seb. 'Tis strange, in all the circuit we have ridden,
 We cannot cross her: no way light upon her.
Cur. I do not think she is gone thus far, or this way,
 For certain if she had, we should have reach'd her,
 Made some discovery, heard some news; we have seen nothing.
Seb. Nor pass by any body that could promise any thing.
 She is certainly disguis'd, her modesty
 Durst never venture else.
Cur. Let her take any shape,
 And let me see it once, I can distinguish it.
Seb. So should I think too: has not her Father found her?
Cur. No, I'le be hang'd then; he has no patience
 Unless she light in's teeth, to look about him.
 He guesses now, and chafes and frets like Tinsel.
Seb. Let him go on, he cannot live without it.
 But keep her from him, heaven: where are we Curio?
Cur. In a wood I think, hang me if I know else.
 And yet I have ridden all these coasts, at all hours,
 And had an aim.
Seb. I would we had a guide.
Cur. And if I be not much awry Seberto,
 Not far off should be Roderigo's quarter,
 For in this fastness if I be not cozen'd,
 He and his out-laws live.
Seb. This is the place then

Enter Alinda.

We appointed him to meet in.
Cur. Yes, I think so.
Seb. Would we could meet some living thing: what's that there?
Cur. A boy, I think, stay; why may not he direct us?
Alin. I am hungry, and I am weary, and I cannot find him.
 Keep my wits Heaven, I feel 'em wavering,
 O God my head.
Seb. Boy, dost thou hear, thou stripling?
Alin. Now they will tear me, torture me, now Roderigo
 Will hang [him] without mercy; ha?
Cur. Come hither.
 A very pretty boy: what place is this, child?
 And whither dost thou travel? how he stares!
 Some stubborn Master has abus'd the boy,
 And beaten him: how he complains! whither goest thou?
Alin. I go to Segovia Sir, to my sick Mother,
 I have been taken here by drunken thieves,
 And (O my bones!) I have been beaten Sir.
 Mis-us'd, and rob'd: extreamly beaten Gentlemen,
 O God, my side!
Seb. What beasts would use a boy thus?
 Look up, and be of good cheer.
Alin. O, I cannot.
 My back, my back, my back.
Cur. What thieves?
Alin. I know not.
 But they call the Captain Roderigo.
Cur. Look ye,
 I knew we were thereabouts.
Seb. Do'st thou want any thing?
Alin. Nothing but ease, but ease, Sir.
Cur. There's some mony,
 And get thee to thy Mother.
Alin. I thank ye Gentlemen.
Seb. This was extreamly foul, to vex a child thus.
 Come, let's along, we cannot lose our way now. [Ex.
Alin. Though ye are honest men, I fear your fingers,
 And glad I am got off; O how I tremble!
 Send me but once within his arms dear fortune,
 And then come all the world: what shall I do now?
 'Tis almost night again, and where to lodge me,

Enter Juletta.

Or get me meat, or any thing, I [k]now not.
 These wild woods, and the fancies I have in me,
 Will run me mad.
Jul. Boy, Boy.
Alin. More set to take me?
Jul. Do'st thou hear boy? thou pointer.
Alin. 'Tis a boy too,
 A Lacky Boy: I need not fear his fierceness.
Jul. Canst thou beat a Drum?
Alin. A Drum?
Jul. This thing, a Drum here.
 Didst thou never see a Drum? Canst thou make this grumble?
Alin. Julettas face, and tongue; is she run mad too?
 Here may be double craft: I have no skill in't.
Jul. I'le give thee a royal but to go along with me.
Alin. I care not for thy royal, I have other business,
 Drum to thy self, and daunce to it.
Jul. Sirrah, Sirrah.
 Thou scurvy Sirrah; thou snotty-nos'd scab, do'st thou hear me?
 If I lay down my Drum.

Enter Roderigo, and two Out-laws.

Alin. Here comes more Company,
 I fear a plot, Heaven send me fairly from it. [Exit.
Jul. Basto; who's here?
Lop. Captain, do you need me farther?
Rod. No not a foot: give me the gown: the sword now.
Jul. This is the Devil thief, and if he take me,
 Woe be to my Gally gaskins.
Lop. Certain Sir,
 She will take her patches off, and change her habit.
Rod. Let her do what she please: No, no Alinda
 You cannot cozen me again in a Boys figure,
 Nor hide the beauty of that face in patches,
 But I shall know it.
Jul. A boy his face in patches?
Rod. Nor shall your tongue again bewitch mine anger,
 If she be found i'th' woods, send me word presently,
 And I'le return; she cannot be far gone yet:
 If she be not, expect me, when ye see me;
 Use all your service to my friend Alphonso,
 And have a care to your business: farewel,
 No more, farewel. [Exeunt.
Jul. I am heartily glad thou art gone yet.
 This boy in patches, was the boy came by me,
 The very same, how hastily it shifted!
 What a mop-eyed ass was I, I could not know her,
 This must be she, this is she, now I remember her,
 How loth she was to talk too, how she fear'd me:
 I could now piss mine eyes out for meer anger:
 I'le follow her, but who shall vex her Father then?
 One flurt at him, and then I am for the voyage,
 If I can cross the Captain too: Come Tabor. [Exit.

SCENE IV.

Enter Jaques, and 1 Out-Law.

Jaq. Are they all set?
1 Out-l. All, and each quarter quiet.
Jaq. Is the old man asleep?
1 Out-l. An hour agoe Sir.
Jaq. We must be very carefull in his absence,
 And very watchfull.
1 Out-l. It concerns us nearly,
 He will not be long from us.
Jaq. No, he cannot.
1 Out-l. A little heat of love, which he must wander out.

[Drum a far off.

And then again: hark.
Ja[q]. What?
1 Out-l. 'Tis not the wind sure:
 That's still and calm, no noise, nor flux of waters.
Jaq. I hear a Drum, I think.
1 Out-l. That, that;
 It beats again now.
Jaq. Now it comes nearer: sure we are surprized, Sir;
 Some from the Kings command: we are lost, we are dead all.
1 Out-l. Hark, hark, a charge now: my Captain has betray'd us,
 And left us to this ruine, run away from us.

Enter two Out-Laws.

Lop. Another beats o' that side.
2 Out-l. Fly, flie, Jaques,
 We are taken in a toyle: snapt in a pitfal;
 Methinks I feel a Sword already shave me.
3 Out-l. A thousand horse and foot, a thousand pioneers,
 If we get under-ground, to fetch us out again;
 And every one an Axe to cut the woods down.
Lop. This is the dismalst night— [Exit.

Enter Alpho[n]so.

Alp. Where's my Nag now?
 And what make I here to be hang'd? What Devil
 Brought me into this danger? Is there ne'er a hole,
 That I may creep in deep enough, and die quickly?
 Ne'r an old ditch to choke in? I shall be taken
 For their Commander now, their General,
 And have a commanding Gallows set up for me
 As high as a May-pole; and nasty Songs made on me,
 Be printed with a Pint-pot and a Dagger.
 They are all kill'd by this time: Can I pray?
 Let me see that first: I have too much fear to be faithful.
 Where's all my State now? I must go hunt for Daughters;
 Daughters, and Damsels of the Lake, damned Daughters.
 A hundred Crowns for a good tod of Hay,
 Or a fine hollow Tree, that would contain me;
 I hear 'em coming: I feel the nooze about me.

Enter Seberto, Curio, Out-laws, and Jaques.

Seb. Why do you fear, and fly? here are no Souldiers;
 None from the King to vex ye.
1 Out-l. The Drum, the Drum, Sir.
Cur. I never saw such Pigeon-hearted people:
 What Drum? what danger? who's that that shakes behind there?
 Mercy upon me, Sir, why are ye fear'd thus?
Alp. Are we all kill'd, no mercy to be hoped for?
 Am I not shot do you think?
Seb. You are strangely frighted,
 Shot with a fiddle-stick: who's here to shoot ye?
 A drum we saw indeed, a boy was beating it,
 And hunting Squirrels by Moon-light.
Lop. Nothing else, Sir?
Cur. Not any thing: no other person stirring.
Alp. O that I had that boy: this is that Devil,
 That fairy Rogue, that haunted me last night;
 H'as sleeves like Dragons wings.
Seb. A little Foot-boy.
Alp. Come, let's go in, and let me get my cloaths on;
 If ere I stay here more to be thus martyr'd—
 Did ye not meet the wench?
Seb. No sure, we met her not.
Alp. She has been here in Boys apparel, Gentlemen,
 A gallant thing, and famous for a Gentlewoman.
 And all her face patcht over for discovery:
 A Pilgrim too, and thereby hangs a circumstance,
 That she hath plaid her master-prize, a rare one.
 I came too short.
Cur. Such a young Boy we met, Sir.
Alp. In a gray Hat.
Cur. The same: his face all patcht too.
Alp. 'Twas she, a rot run with her; she, that rank she;
 Walk in, I'le tell ye all, and then we'll part again,
 But get some store of Wine: this fright sits here yet. [Ex.

Enter Juletta.

Jul. What a fright I have put 'em in; what a brave hurry.
 If this do bolt him, I'le be with him again
 With a new part, was never play'd; I'le ferk him.
 As he hunts her, so I'le hunt him: I'le claw him.
 Now will I see if I can cross her footing:
 Yet still I'le watch his water, he shall pay for't;
 And when he thinks most malice, and means worse,
 I'le make him know the Mare's the better Horse. [Exit.

SCENE V.

Enter Pedro, and a Gentleman.

Gent. Ye are a stranger, Sir, and for humanity,
 Being come within our walls, I would shew you something.
 Ye have seen the Castle?
Ped. Yes Sir, 'tis a strong one,
 And well maintain'd.
Gent. Why are you still thus sad, Sir?
 How do ye like the walks?
Ped. They are very pleasant;
 Your Town stands cool and sweet.
Gent. But that I would not
 Affect you with more sadness, I could shew ye
 A place worth view.
Ped. Shows seldom alter me, Sir;
 Pray ye speak it, and then shew it.
Gent. 'Tis a house here
 Where people of all sorts, that have been visited
 With Lunacies, and Follies wait their cures,
 There's fancies of a thousand stamps and fashions,
 Like flies in several shapes buz round about ye,
 And twice as many gestures; some of pity,
 That it would make ye melt to see their passions:
 And some as light again, that would content ye.
 But I see, Sir, your temper is too modest,
 Too much inclin'd to contemplation,
 To meet with these?
Ped. You could not please me better;
 And I beseech you, Sir, do me the honour
 To let me wait upon ye.
Gent. Since ye are willing,
 To me it shall be a pleasure to conduct ye.
Ped. I never had such a mind yet to see misery. [Exe.

SCENE VI.

Enter two Keepers.

1 Keep. Carry mad Bess some meat, she roars like Thunder;
 And tie the Parson short, the Moon's i'th' full,
 H'as a thousand Pigs in's brains: Who looks to the Prentice?
 Keep him from Women, he thinks h'as lost his Mistris;
 And talk of no silk stuffs, 'twill run him horn mad.
2 Keep. The Justice keeps such a stir yonder with his Charges,
 And such a coil with warrants.
1 Keep. Take away his Statutes;
 The Devil has possest him in the likeness
 Of penal Laws: keep him from Aqua vitÆ,
 For if that spirit creep into his Quorum,
 He will commit us all: how is it with the Scholar?
2 Keep. For any thing I see, he's in his right wits.
1 Keep. Thou art an ass; in's right wits, goodman coxcomb?
 As though any man durst be in's right wits, and be here.
 It is as much as we dare be that keep 'em.

Enter English madman.

Engl. Give me some drink.
1 Keep. O, there's the English man.
Engl. Fill me a thousand pots, and froth 'em, froth 'em.
 Down o' your knees, ye Rogues, and pledge me roundly;
 One, two, three, and four; we shall all be merry within this hour.
 To the great Turk.
1 Keep. Peace, peace thou Heathen drunkard;
 These English are so Malt-mad, there's no medling with 'em;
 When they have a fruitful year of Barly there,
 All the whole Island's thus.
Engl. A snuff, a snuff, a snuff.
 A lewd notorious snuff: give't him again, boy.

Enter she-fool.

Fool. God-ye-good even, Gaffer.
2 Keep. Who let the Fool loose?
1 Keep. If any of the mad-men take her, she is pepper'd,
 They'll bounce her loins.
Fool. Will ye walk into the coal house?
1 Keep. She is as leacherous too as a she-Ferret.
2 Keep. Who a vengeance looks to her? go in Kate,
 I'le give thee a fine Apple.
Fool. Will ye buss me?
 And tickle me, and make me laugh?
1 Keep. I'le whip ye.
Engl. Fool, fool, come up to me fool.
Fool. Are ye peeping?
Engl. I'le get thee with five fools.
Fool. O fine, O dainty.
Engl. And thou shalt lie in [in] a horse-cloth, like a Lady.
Fool. And shall I have a Coach?
Engl. Drawn with four Turkeys,
 And they shall tread thee too.
Fool. We shall have eggs then;
 And shall I sit upon 'em?
Engl. I, I, and they shall be all addle,
 And make an admirable Tanzey for the Devil.
 Come, come away, I am taken with thy love fool,
 And will mightily belabour thee.
1 Keep. How the fool bridles! how she twitters at him!
 These English men would stagger a wise woman.
 If we should suffer her to have her will now,
 We should have all the women in Spain as mad as she here.
2 Keep. They would strive who should be most fool:
 Away with her.

Enter Master, three Gentlemen, a mad Scholar, and Pedro.

Fool. Pray ye stay a little: let's hear him sing, h'as a fine breast.
1 Keep. Here comes my Master; to the spit ye whore,
 And stir no more abroad, but tend your business;
 You shall have no more sops i'th' pan else, nor no Porridge:
 Besides, I'le whip your breech.
Fool. I'le go in presently.
1 Gent. I'le assure ye, Sir, the Cardinal's angry with ye
 For keeping this young man.
Mast. I am heartily sorry.
 If ye allow him sound, pray ye take him with ye.
1 Gent. This is the place, and now observe their humours.
2 Gent. We can find nothing in him light, nor tainted;
 No startings, nor no rubs, in all his answers,
 In all his Letters nothing but discretion,
 Learning, and handsome stile.
Mast. Be not deceived, Sir,
 Mark but his look.
1 Gent. His grief, and his imprisonment
 May stamp that there.
Mast. Pray talk with him again then.
2 Gent. That will be needless, we have tried him long enough,
 And if he had a taint we should have met with't.
 Yet to discharge your care—
Ped. A sober youth:
 Pity so heavy a cross should light upon him.
2 Gent. You find no sickness?
Schol. None Sir, I thank Heaven,
 Nor nothing that diverts my understanding.
1 Gent. Do you sleep a nights?
Schol. As sound, and sweet, as any man.
2 Gent. Have ye no fearful dreams?
Schol. Sometimes, as all have
 That go to bed with raw and windy stomachs;
 Else I am all one piece.
1 Gent. Is there no unkindness
 You have conceiv'd from any friend or parent?
 Or scorn from what ye lov'd?
Schol. No, truely Sir:
 I never yet was master of a faith
 So poor, and weak, to doubt my friend or kindred,
 And what love is, unless it lie in learning
 I think I am ignorant.
1 Gent. This man is perfect,
 A civiller discourser I ne'r talk'd with.
Mast. You'l find it otherwise.
2 Gent. I must tell ye true, Sir,
 I think ye keep him here to teach him madness.
 Here's his discharge from my Lord Cardinal;
 And come Sir, go with us.
Schol. I am bound unto ye,
 And farewel Master.
Master. Farewel Stephano,
 Alas poor man.
1 Gent. What flaws, and whirles of weather,
 Or rather storms have been aloft these three daies;
 How dark, and hot, and full of mutiny!
 And still grows louder.
Mast. It has been stubborn weather.
2 Gent. Strange work at Sea, I fear me there's old tumbling.
1 Gent. Bless my old Unkles Bark, I have a venture.
2 Gent. And I more than I would wish to lose.
Schol. Do you fear?
2 Gent. Ha! how he looks!
Mast. Nay, mark him better Gentlemen.
2 Gent. Mercy upon me: how his eyes are altered!
Mast. Now tell me how ye like him: whether now
 He be that perfect man ye credited?
Schol. Do's the Sea stagger ye?
Mast. Now ye have hit the nick.
Schol. Do ye fear the billows?
1 Gent. What ails him? who has stir'd him?
Schol. Be not shaken,
 Nor let the singing of the storm shoot through ye,
 Let it blow on, blow on: let the clouds wrastle,
 And let the vapours of the earth turn mutinous,
 The Sea in hideous mountains rise and tumble
 Upon a Dolphins back, I'le make all tremble,
 For I am Neptune.
Mast. Now what think ye of him?
2 Gent. Alas poor man.
Schol. Your Bark shall plough through all,
 And not a Surge so saucy to disturb her.
 I'le see her safe, my power shall sail before her.

Enter Alinda.

Ped. Pray Heaven recover him.
Alin. Must I come in too?
Mast. No, my pretty Lad;
 Keep in thy Chamber Boy; 'shalt have thy supper.
Ped. I pray ye what is he, Sir?
Mast. A strange Boy, that last night
 Was found i'th' Town, a little craz'd, distracted,
 And so sent hither.
Ped. How the pretty Knave looks,
 And plays, and peeps upon me! sure such eyes
 I have seen, and lov'd: what fair hands! certainly—
Mast. Good Sir, you'l make him worse.
Ped. I pray believe not.
 Alas, why sho[u]ld I hurt him? how he smiles!
 The very shape, and sweetness of Alinda:
 Let me look once again: were it in such clothes
 As when I saw her last; this must be she.
 How tenderly it stroaks me!
Mast. Pray ye be mild Sir;
 I must attend elsewhere. [Exit.
Ped. Pray ye be secure Sir,
 What would ye say? how my heart beats and trembles!
 He holds me hard by th' hand; O my life, her flesh too!
 I know not what to think: her tears, her true ones;
 Pure orient tears: Hark, do you know me little one?
Alin. O Pedro Pedro!
Ped. O my soul!
Gent. What fit's this?
 The Pilgrim's off the hooks too.
Alin. Let me hold thee,
 And now come all the world, and all that hate me.
Ped. Be wise, and not discovered: O how I love ye!
 How do ye now?
Alin. I have been miserable;
 But your most vertuous eyes have cur'd me, Pedro:
 Pray ye think it no immodesty, I kiss ye,
 My head's wild still.
Ped. Be not so full of passion,
 Nor do not hang so greedily upon me;
 'Twill be ill taken.
Alin. Are ye weary of me?
 I will hang here eternally, kiss ever,
 And weep away for joy.

Enter Master.

Master. I told ye Sir,
 What ye would do: for shame do not afflict him;
 You have drawn his fit upon him fearfully:
 Either depart, and presently; I'le force ye else.
 Who waits within?

Enter two Keepers to fetch 'em off.

Ped. Alas good Sir.
 This is the way never to hope recovery.
Mast. Stay but one minute more, I'le complain to the Governour,
 Bring in the boy: do you see how he swells, and tears himself?
 Is this your cure? Be gone; if the boy miscarry
 Let me ne'r find you more, for I'le so hamper ye—
Gent. You were to blame: too rash.
Ped. Farewel for ever. [Exeunt.

Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.

Enter Alphonso, Gent. Juletta.

Gent. You are now within a mile o'th' Town Sir: if my business
 Would give me leave, I would turn and wait upon ye;
 But for such Gentlemen as you enquire of,
 Certain, I saw none such: But for the boy ye spoke of,
 I will not say 'tis he, but such a one;
 Just of that height.
Alph. In such clothes?
Gent. I much mistake else,
 Was sent in th' other night, a little maddish,
 And where such people wait their cures—
Alph. I understand ye.
Gent. There you may quickly know.
Alph. I thank ye Sir.
Jul. So do I too: and if there be such a place,
 I ask no more: but you shall hear more of me,
 She may be there, and you may play the tyrant;
 I'le see what I can do: I am almost foundred
 In following him; and yet I'le never leave him,
 I'le crawl of all four first; my cause is meritorious,
 And come what can come.
Gent. All you have told me is certain;
 Complexion, and all else.
Alph. It may be she then;
 And I'le so fumble her: is she grown mad now?
 Is her blood set so high? I'le have her madded,
 I'le have her worm'd.
Jul. Mark but the end, old Master,
 If thou beest not sick o'th' Bots within these five hours,
 And kickst and roar'st; I'le make ye fart fire, Signior.

Enter Alinda, as a fool.

Gent. Here's one o'th' house, a fool, an idiot Sir;
 May be she is going home; she'l be a guide to ye:
 And so I kiss your hand. [Exit.
Alph. I am your servant.
Alin. O now I am lost, lost, lost, Lord, how I tremble!
 My Father, arm'd in all his hates and angers;
 This is more misery than I have scap'd yet.
Alph. Fool, fool.
Alin. He knows me not; will ye give me two pence?
 And gaffer, here's a Crow-flower, and a Dazie;
 I have some pie in my pocket too.
Alph. This is an arrant fool,
 An ignorant thing.
Alin. Believe so, and I am happy.
Alph. Dost thou dwell in Sigovia, fool?
Alin. No no, I dwell in Heaven.
 And I have a fine little house, made of Marmalad.
 And I am a lone woman, and I spin for Saint Peter;
 I have a hundred little children, and they sing Psalms with me.
Alp. 'Tis pity this pretty thing should want understanding.
 But why do I stand talking with a coxcombe?
 If I do find her, if I light upon her,
 I'le say no more. Is this the way to th' Town, fool?
Alin. You must go over the top of that high steeple, Gaffer.
Alp. A plague o' your fools face.
Jul. No, take her counsel.
Alin. And then you shall come to a River twenty mile over,
 And twenty mile and ten: and then you must pray, Gaffer;
 And still you must pray, and pray.
Alp. Pray Heaven deliver me
 From such an ass, as thou art.
Alin. Amen, sweet Gaffer.
 And fling a sop of Suger-cake into it;
 And then you must leap in naked.
Jul. Would he would believe her.
Alin. And sink seven daies together; can ye sink gaffer?
Alp. Yes coxcomb, yes; prethee farewel: a pox on thee.
 A plague o' that fool too, that set me upon thee.
Alin. And then I'le bring you a sup of Milk shall serve ye:
 I am going to get Apples.
Alp. Go to th' Devil:
 Was ever man tormented with a puppy thus?
 Thou tell me news? thou be a guide?
Alin. And then Nunkle—
Alph. Prethee keep on thy way (good Naunt) I could rail now
 These ten hours at mine own improvidence:
 Get Apples, and be choak'd: farewel. [Exit.
Alin. Farewel Nunkle.
Jul. I rejoyce in any thing that vexes him;
 I shall love this fool extreamly for't:
 Could I but see my Mistris now, to tell her
 How I have truly, honestly wrought for her,
 How I have worn my self away, to serve her.
 Fool, there's a Royal for the sport thou mad'st me,
 In crossing that old fool, that parted from thee.
Alin. Thou art honest sure; but yet thou must not see me:
 I thank ye little Gentleman: Heaven bless ye
 And I'le pray for ye too: pray ye keep this Nutmeg.
 'Twas sent me from the Lady of the Mountain,
 A golden Lady.
Jul. How prettily it prattles!
Alin. 'Tis very good to rub your understanding:
 And so good night, the Moon's up.
Jul. Pretty innocent.
Alin. Now fortune, if thou darst do good, protect me. [Exit.
Jul. I'll follow him to yond' Town; he shall not 'scape me.
 Stay, I must counterfeit a Letter by the way first,
 And one that must carry some credit with it; I am wide else,
 And all this to no purpose that I aim at.
 A Letter must be had, and neatly handled;
 And then, if Goodwife Fortune do not fail me,
 Have at his Skirts; I shall worse anger him
 Than ever I have done, and worse torment him.
 It does me good to think how I shall conjure him,
 And crucifie his crabbedness; he's my Master,
 But that's all one; I'll lay that on the left hand,
 He would now persecute my harmless Mistriss,
 A fault without forgiveness, as I take it;
 And under that bold Banner flies my vengeance,
 A meritorious War, and so I'll make it.
 I'th' name of innocence, what's this the fool gave me?
 She said 'twas good to rub my understanding.
 What strange Concealment! Bread or Cheese, or a Chesnut?
 Ha! 'tis a Ring, a pretty Ring, a right one;
 A Ring I know too! the very same Ring;
 O admirable Blockhead! O base Eyes!
 A Ring my Mistriss took from me and wore it;
 I know it by the Posie: [Prick me, and heale me.]
 None could deliver this, but she her self too;
 Am I twice sand-blind? twice so near the Blessing
 I would arrive at? and block-like never know it?
 I am veng'ance angry, but that shall light on thee,
 And heavily, and quickly, I pronounce it;
 There are so many cross ways, there's no following her;
 And yet I must not now; I hope she is right still,
 For all her outward shew, for sure she knew me;
 And in that hope, some few hours I'll forget her. [Exit.

SCENE II.

Enter Roderigo.

Rod. She is not to be recovered, which I vex at;
 And he beyond my veng'ance, which torments me;
 O! I am fool'd and sleighted, made a Rascal;
 My hopes are flatter'd, as my present fortunes;
 Why should I wander thus, and play the Coxcomb?
 Tire out my peace and pleasure for a Girl?
 A Girl that scorns me too? a thing that hates me?
 And considered at the best, is but a short Breakfast
 For a hot appetite: why should I walk and walk thus?
 And fret my self, and travel like a Carrier,
 And peep, and watch? want Meat, and Wine, to cherish me,
 When thousand women may be had, ten thousand,
 And thank me too, and I sit still: well, trim Beauty
 And Chastity, and all that seem to ruine me,
 Let me not take ye, let me not come near ye,
 For I'll so trim ye, I'll so bustle with ye;
 'Tis not the name of Virgin shall redeem ye,
 I'll change that property: nor tears, nor angers;
 I bear a hate about me scorns those follies.
 To find this Villain too, for there's my main prize:
 And if he snap me then.

Enter Alinda.

Alind. Is not that Pedro?
 'Tis he, 'tis he: O!
Rod. What art thou?
Alind. Ha? now, now, now,
 O now most miserable.
Rod. What a Devil art thou?
Alin. No end of my misfortunes, Heaven?
Rod. What antick?
 Speak Puppet, speak.
Alind. That habit to betray me?
 Ye holy Saints, can ye see this?
Rod. It danceth;
 The Devil in a Fools Coat, is he turn'd Innocent?
 What mops and mows it makes! heigh! how it frisketh!
 Is't not a Fairy, or some small Hobgoblin?
 It has a mortal face, and I have a great mind to it,
 But if it should prove the Devil then.
Alin. Come hither.
Rod. I think 'twill ravish me,
 It is a handsome thing, but horribly Sun-burnt,
 What's that it points at?
Alin. Dost thou see that star there,
 That just above the Sun?
 Prithee go thither, and light me this Tobacco,
 And stop it with the horns o'th' Moon.
Rod. The thing's mad,
 Abominably mad, her brains are butter'd,
 Go sleep, fool, sleep.
Alin. Thou canst not sleep so sweetly;
 For so I can say my Prayers, and then slumber.
I am not proud, nor full of Wine,
 This little Flower will make me fine;
 Cruel in Heart, for I will cry,
 If I see a Sparrow dye;
 I am not watchful to do ill,
 Nor glorious to pursue it still;
 Nor pitiless to those that weep;
 Such as are, bid them go sleep.
Do, do, do, and see if they can.
Rod. It said true.
 I feel it sink into me forcibly:
 Sure 'tis a kind of Sibyl, some mad Prophet;
 I feel my wildness bound, and fetter'd in me.
Alin. Give me your hand, and I'll tell you what's your fortune.
Rod. Here, prithee speak.
Alin. Fye, fye, fye, fye, fye.
 Wash your hands, and pare your nails, and look finely,
 You shall never kiss the Kings Daughter else.
Rod. I wash 'em daily.
Alin. But still you foul 'em faster.
Rod. This goes nearer.
Alin. You'll have two Wives.
Rod. Two Wives?
Alin. I, two fine Gentlewomen,
 Make much of 'em; for they'll stick close to you, Sir:
 And these two, in two days.
Rod. That's a fine Riddle.
Alin. To day you shall wed sorrow,
 And repentance will come to morrow.
Rod. Sure she's inspired.
Alin. I'll sing ye a fine Song, Sir,
He called down his merry men all,
 By one, by two, by three,
 William would fain have been the first,
 But now the last is he.
Rod. This the meer Chronicle of my mishaps.
Alin. I'll bid you good ev'n, for my Boat stays for me yonder,
 And I must sup with the Moon to Night in the Mediterraneum. [Exit.
Rod. When fools and mad folks will be Tutors to me,
 And feel my sores, yet I unsensible;
 Sure it was set by Providence upon me
 To steer my heart right, I am wondrous weary,
 My thoughts too, which add more burthen to me;
 I have been ill, and (which is worse) pursu'd it,
 And still run on; I must think better, nobler,
 And be another thing, or not at all.

Enter four Pesants.

Still I grow heavier, heavier, Heaven defend me;
 I'll lye down, and take rest; and goodness guard me.
1 Pes. We have 'scaped to day well; certain if the Out-laws
 Had known we had been stirring, we had paid for't.
2 Pes. 'Plague on 'em, they have rob'd me thrice.
3 Pes. And me five times:
Beside they made my Daughter one of us too
 An arrant Drum: O, they are the lewdest Rascals,
 The Captain such a damn'd piece of iniquitie:
 But we are far enough off on 'em, that's the best on't,
 They cannot hear.
4. They'le come to me familiarly
 And eat up all I have: drink up my wine too,
 And if there be a Servant that contents 'em,
 Let her keel hold, they'l give her Stowage enough:
 We have no Children now, but Thieves, and Outlaws.
 The very Brats in their Mothers bellies have their qualities.
 They'l steal into the world.
1. Would we had some of 'em here.
2. I, o' that condition we could Master 'em,
 They are sturdy knaves.
3. A Devil take their sturdiness,
 We can neither keep our wives from 'em nor our States,
 We pay the Rent, and they possess the benefit.
1. What's this lies here? is it drunk, or sober?
 It sleeps, and soundly too.
2. 'Tis an old woman
 That keeps sheep hereabouts: it turns, and stretches.
4. Do's she keep sheep with a sword?
3. It has a Beard too.
1. Peace, peace: it is the Devil Roderigo,
 Peace of all hands, and look.
2. 'Tis he.
3. Speak softly.
4. Now we may fit him.
3. Stay, stay: let's be provident.
1. Kill him, and wake him then.
4. Let me come to him,
 Ev'n one blow at his pate, if e're he wake more.
3. So, so, so, lay that by.
2. I must needs kill him,
 It stands with my reputation.
3. Stand off, I say:
 And let us some way make him sure; then torture him.
 To kill him presently, has no pleasure in't.
 H'as been tormenting of us, at least this twelve moneth.
Rod. Oh me!
All. He comes: he comes.
4. Has he no Guns about him?
3. Softly again: no, no: take that hand easily,
 And tye it fast there: that to th' other bough there.
 Fast, fast, and easie lest he wake.
2. Have we got ye?
 This was a benefit we never aim'd at.
3. Out with your knives, and let's carve this Cockthief,
 Daintily carve him.
2. I would he had been used thus
 Ten year agoe; we might have thought we had children.
3. O, that Sir Nicholas now our Priest were here,
 What a sweet Homily would he say over him,
 For ringing all in, with his wife in the Bell-frey!
 He would stand up stiffe girt, now pounce him lightly
 And as he roars, and rages, let's go deeper:
 Come near: you are dim-ey'd: on with your spectacles.
Rod. O, what torments me thus? what slaves, what villains?
 O spare me, do not murther me.
3. We'l but tickle ye,
 You have tickled us at all points.
4. Where are his Emblemes?

Enter Pedro.

Rod. As ye are men, and Christians.
2. Yes we hear ye,
 And you shall hear of us too.
Rod. O no mercy.
Ped. What noise is this? what roar? I cannot find her,
 She is got free again: but where, or which way?
Rod. O villains, beasts.
Ped. Murdering a man, ye Rascals?
 Ye inhumane slaves, off, off, and leave this cruelty,
 Or as I am a Gentleman: do ye brave me?
 Then have among ye all, ye slaves, ye cowards,
 Take up that sword, and stand: stay ye base rascals,
 Ye cut-throat rogues.
All. Away, away. [Exeunt Pes.
Ped. Ye dog-whelps.
Rod. O, I am now more wretched far, than ever.
Ped. A violence to that habit? ha? Roderigo,
 What makes he here, thus clad? is it repentance,
 Or only a fair shew to guile his mischiefs?
Rod. This benefit has made me shame to see him,
 To know him, blush.
Ped. You are not much hurt?
Rod. No Sir;
 All I can call a hurt, sticks in my conscience,
 That pricks and tortures me.
Ped. Have ye consider'd
 The nature of these men, and how they us'd ye?
 Was it fair play? did it appear to you handsom?
Rod. I dare not speak: or if I do 'tis nothing
 Can bring me off, or justifie me.
Ped. Was it noble
 To be o're-laid with odds, and violence?
 Manly, or brave in these thus to oppress ye?
 Do you blush at this, in such as are meer rudeness,
 That have stopt souls, that never knew things gentle?
 And dare you glorifie worse in your self Sir?
 Ye us'd me with much honour, and I thank ye,
 In this I have requited some: ye know me:
 Come turn not back, ye must, and ye shall know me;
 Had I been over season'd with base anger,
 And suited all occasions to my mischiefs,
 Bore no respect to honesty, Religion,
 No faith, no common tye of man, humanity,
 Had I had in me, but given reins, and licence
 To a tempestuous will, as wild as winter,
 This day, know Roderigo, I had set
 As small a price upon thy life and fortunes,
 As thou didst lately on mine innocence;
 But I reserve thee to a nobler service.
Rod. I thank ye, and I'le study more to honour ye:
 You have the nobler soul, I must confess it,
 And are the greater Master of your goodness.
 Though it be impossible I would now recover,
 And my rude will grow handsom in an instant,
 Yet touching but the pureness of your metal,
 Something shall shew like gold, at least shall glister,
 That men may hope, although the mind be rugged,
 Stony, and hard to work, yet time, and honour
 Shall find and bring forth that, that's rich and worthy.
Ped. I'le trie that: and toth' purpose: ye told me Sir
 In noble emulation, so I take it;
 I'le put your hatred far off, and forget it,
 You had a fair desire to try my valour:
 You seem'd to court me to it; you have found a time,
 A weapon in your hand, an equal enemy,
 That, as he puts this off, puts off all injuries,
 And only now for honours sake defies ye:
 Now, as you are a man, I know you are valiant,
 As you are gentle bred, a Souldier fashioned.
Rod. His vertue startles me. I dare fight Pedro.
Ped. And as you have a Mistris that you honour,
 Mark me, a Mistris.
Rod. Ha?
Ped. A handsome Mistris,
 As you dare hold your self deserving of her.
Rod. Deserving? what a word was that to fire me?
Ped. I could compel ye now without this circumstance,
 But I'le deal free, and fairly, like a Gentleman:
 As ye are worthy of the name ye carry,
 A daring man.
Rod. O that I durst not suffer:
 For all I dare do now, implies but penance.
Ped. Now do me noble right.
Rod. I'll satisfie ye;
 But not by th' sword, pray you hear me, and allow me;
 I have been rude; but shall I be a Monster,
 And teach my Sword to hurt that that preserv'd me?
 Though I be rough by nature, shall my name
 Inherit that eternal stain of barbarous?
 Give me an enemy, a thing that hates ye,
 That never heard of yet, nor felt your goodness,
 That is one main antipathy to sweetness;
 And set me on, you cannot hold me Coward;
 If I have ever err'd, 'thas been in hazard;
 The temper of my Sword starts at your Vertue,
 And will flye off, nay it will weep to light ye;
 Things excellently mingled, and of pure nature,
 Hold sacred Love, and peace with one another,
 See how it turns.
Ped. This is a strange Conversion:
 And can ye fail your Mistriss? can ye grow cold
 In such a case?
Rod. Those heats that they add to us,
 (O noble Pedro) let us feel 'em rightly,
 And rightly but consider how they move us.
Ped. Is not their honour ours?
Rod. If they be vertuous,
 And then the Sword adds nothing to their lustre,
 But rather calls in question what's not doubted;
 If they be not, the best Swords, and best valours
 Can never fight 'em up to fame again;
 No, not a Christian War, and that's held pious.
Ped. How bravely now he is tempered! I must fight,
 And rather make it honourable, than angry,
 I would not task those sins to me committed.
Rod. You cannot, Sir, you have cast those by: discarded 'em,
 And in a noble mind, so low, and loosely
 To look back, and collect such lumps, and lick 'em
 Into new horrid forms again—
Ped. Still braver.
Rod. To fight, because I dare, were worse and weaker
 Than if I had a woman in my cause, Sir,
 And more proclaim'd me fool: yet I must confess
 I have been covetous of all occasions,
 And this I have taken upon trust, for noble,
 The more shame mine: devise a way to fight thus,
 That like the wounded air, no bloud may issue,
 Nor where the Sword shall enter, no lost spirit,
 And set me on: 1 would not scare that body,
 That vertuous, valiant body, nor deface it
 To make the Kingdom mine: if one must bleed,
 Let me be both the Sacrifice and Altar,
 And you the Priest; I have deserv'd to suffer.
Ped. The noble Roderigo, now I call ye,
 And thus my love shall ever count, and hold ye.
Rod. I am your servant, Sir, and now this habit,
 Devotion, not distrust shall put upon me,
 I'll wait upon your fortunes, that's my way now,
 And where you grieve, or joy, I'll be a Partner.
Ped. I thank ye, Sir, I shall be too proud of ye,
 O I could tell ye strange things.
Rod. I guess at 'em,
 And I could curse my self, I made 'em stranger;
 Yet my mind says you are not far from happiness.
Ped. It shall be welcome; come, let's keep up thus still,
 And be as we appear; Heavens hand may bless us. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.

Enter Alphonso, Master and Keepers.

Mast. Yes, Sir, here be such people; but how pleasing
 They will appear to you.
Alph. 'Pray let me see 'em,
 I come to that end; 'pray let me see 'em all.
Mast. They will confound ye, Sir, like Bells rung backward,
 They are nothing but Confusion, and meer Noises.
Alph. May be I love a noise; but hark ye, Sir,
 Have ye no Boys? handsome young Boys?
Mast. Yes, one, Sir,
 A very handsome Boy.
Alph. Long here?
Mast. But two days;
 A little crazed; but much hope of recovery.
Alph. I, that Boy, let me see, may be I know him,
 That Boy I say; this is the Boy he told me of,
 And it must need be she; that Boy, I beseech ye, Sir,
 That Boy I come to see.
Mast. And ye shall see him;
 Or any else: but pray be not too violent.
Alph. I know what to do, I warrant ye; I am for all fancies;
 I can talk to 'em, and dispute.
1 Keep. As madly;
 For they are very mad, Sir.
Alph. Let 'em be horn-mad.
1 Keep. We have few Citizens: they have Bedlams of their own, Sir,
 And are mad at their own charges.
Alph. Who lyes here?
Mast. 'Pray ye do not disturb 'em, Sir, here lie such youths
 Will make you start if they but dance their trenchmores,
 Fetch out the Boy, Sirrah; hark!

[Shake Irons within. English mad-men, Scholar, Parson, Jenkin.

Alph. Heigh Boys.
Eng. Bounce,
 Clap her o'th' star-board; bounce, top the Can.
Schol. Dead ye dog, dead, do ye quarrel in my Kingdom?
 Give me my trident.
Eng. Bounce, 'twixt wind and water,
 Loaden with Mackrel; O brave meat.
Schol. My Sea horses;
 I'll charge the Northern Wind, and break his Bladder.
Pars. I'll sell my Bells before I be out-brav'd thus.
Alph. What's he? what's he?
Mast. A Parson, Sir, a Parson
 That run mad for tyth Goslings.
Alph. Green sawce cure him.
Pars. I'll curse ye all, I'll excommunicate ye;
 Thou English Heretick, give me the tenth Pot.
Eng. Sue me, I'll drink up all, bounce I say once more.
 O have I split your Mizen? blow, blow thou West-wind,
 Blow till thou rive, and make the Sea run roaring.
 I'll hiss it down again with a Bottle of Ale.
Schol. Triton, why Triton.
Eng. Triton's drunk with Metheglin.
Seb. Strike, strike the surges, strike.
Eng. Drink, drink, 'tis day light;
 Drink, didle, didle, didle, drink, Parson, proud Parson;
 A Pigs tail in thy teeth, and I defie thee.
Par. Give me some porridg, or I'll damn thee, English.
Alph. How comes this English mad man here?
Mast. Alas, that's no question;
 They are mad every where, Sir;
 Their fits are cool now, let 'em rest.

Enter Keepers and She-fools.

Enter Juletta.

Jul. He's in; have at him,
 Are you the Master, Sir?
Mast. What would you with him?
Jul. I have a business from the Duke of Medina,
 Is there not an old Gentleman come lately in?
Mast. Yes, and a wild one too, but not a Prisoner.
Jul. Did you observe him well? 'tis like it may be he.
Mast. I have seen younger men of better temper.
Jul. You have hit the cause I come for; there's a Letter,
 Pray ye peruse it well; I shall be wi' ye;
 And suddenly, I fear not, finely, daintily,
 I shall so feed your fierce vexation,
 And raise your Worships storms; I shall so niggle ye,
 And juggle ye, and fiddle ye, and firk ye:
 I'll make ye curse the hour ye vext a Woman;
 I'll make ye shake when our Sex are but sounded;
 For the Lords sake we shall have him at; I long to see it
 As much as for my wedding night; I gape after it.
Mast. This Letter says the Gentleman is lunatick,
 I half suspected it.
Jul. 'Tis very true, Sir,
 And such pranks he has plaid.
Mast. He's some great man,
 The Duke commands me with such care to look to him,
 And if he grow too violent, to correct him,
 To use the speediest means for his recovery,
 And those he must find sharp.
Jul. The better for him.
Mast. How got ye him hither?
Jul. With a train, I told him;
 He's in love with a Boy, there lyes his melancholy.
Mast. Hither he came to seek one.
Jul. Yes, I sent him,
 Now had we dealt by force, we had never brought him.
Mast. Here was a Boy.
Jul. He saw him not?
Mast. He was gone first.
Jul. It is the better; look you to your charge well;
 I'll see him lodged, for so the Duke commanded me,
 He will be very rough.
Mast. We are us'd to that, Sir,
 And we as rough as he, if he give occasion.
Jul. You will find him gainful, but be sure ye curb him,
 And get him, if ye can fairly, to his lodging,

Enter Alphonso.

I am afraid ye will not.
Mast. We must sweat then.
Alph. What dost thou talk to me of noises? I'l have more noise,
 I'll have all loose, and all shall play their prizes;
 Thy Master has let loose the Boy I lookt for,
 Basely convey'd him hence.
Keep. Will ye go out, Sir?
Alph. I will not out; I will have all out with me, [Shake Irons.
 I'll have thy Master in; he's only mad here:
 And Rogues, I'll have ye all whipt; heigh, mad Boys, mad Boys.
Jul. Do you perceive him now?
Mast. 'Tis too apparent.
Jul. I am glad she is gone; he raves thus.
Mast. Do you hear, Sir?
 'Pray will ye make less stir, and see your Chamber,
 Call in more help, and make the Closet ready.
Keep. I thought he was mad; I'll have one long lash at ye.
Alph. My Chamber? where my Chamber? why my Chamber?
 Where's the young Boy?
Mast. Nay, Pray ye, Sir, be more modest
 For your own Credit sake; the people see ye,
 And I would use ye with the best.
Alph. Best, hang ye,
 What dost thou think me mad?
Mast. Pray, and be civil,
 Heaven may deliver ye.
Alph. Into a rogues hands.
Mast. You do but draw more misery upon ye,
 And add to your disease.
Alph. Get from me.
Mast. No Sir,
 You must not be left so: bear your self civilly,
 And 'twill be better for ye: swell not, nor chafe not.
Alp. I am a Gentleman, and a neighbour, rascal.
Mast. A great deal the more pity: I have heard of ye.
Jul. Excellent Master.
Mast. The Duke is very tender too.
Alph. Am I lunatique? am I run mad?
 What dost thou talk to me of Dukes, and Devils,
 Why do the people gape so?
Mast. Do not anger 'em,
 But go in quietly, and slip in softly
 They will so tew ye, else, I am commanded Sir.
Alph. Why, prethee why?
Mast. Ye are dog-mad: you perceive it not,
 Very far mad: and whips will scant recover ye.
Alph. Ha! whips?
Mast. I whips, and sore whips, and ye were a Lord Sir,
 If ye be stubborn here.
Alph. Whips? what am I grown?
Jul. O I could burst: hold, hold, hold, hold o' both ends,
 How he looks, pray heaven, he be not mad indeed.
Alph. I do not perceive I am so; but if you think it,
 Nor I'le be hangd if 't be so.
Mast. Do you see this Sir? [Irons brought in.
 Down with that Devil in ye.
Alph. Indeed I am angry,
 But I'le contain my self: O I could burst now,
 And tear my self, but these rogues will torment me,
 Mad in mine old days? make mine own afflictions?
Mast. What do you mutter Sir?
Alph. Nothing, Sir, nothing;
 I will go in, and quietly, most civilly:
 And good Sir, let none of your tormentors come about me,
 You have a gentle face; they look like Dragons.
Mast. Be civil and be safe: come, for these two daies
 Ye must eat nothing neither: 'twill ease your fits Sir.
Alph. 'Twill starve me Sir; but I must bear it joyfully.
 I may sleep?
Mast. Yes, a little: go in with these men.
Alph. O miserable me! [Exit.
Mast. I'le follow presently,
 You see 'tis done Sir,
Jul. Ye have done it handsomely,
 And I'le inform the Duke so: pray ye attend him,
 Let him want nothing, but his will.
Mast. He shall not,
 And if he be rebellious—
Jul. Never spare him:
 H'as flesh, and hide enough, he loves a whipping.
Mast. My service to his Grace. [Exit.
Jul. I shall commend it.
 So, thou art fast: I must go get some fresh room
 To laugh, and caper in: O how it tickles me!
 O how it tumbles me with joy! thy mouth's stopt:
 Now if I can do my Mistris good, I am Sainted. [Exit.

Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.

Enter Seberto, Curio.

Seb. Now, o' my conscience, we have lost him utterly,
 He's not gone home: we heard from thence this morning,
 And since our parting last at Roderigo's
 You know what ground we have travel'd.
Cur. He's asleep sure:
 For if he had been awake, we should have met with him:
 'Faith let's turn back, we have but a fruitless journey;
 And to hope further of Alindas recovery,
 (For sure she'l rather perish than return)
 Is but to seek a Moth i'th' Sun.
Seb. We'l on sure;
 Something we'l know, some cause of all this fooling,
 Make some discovery.
Cur. Which way shall we cast then,
 For all the Champion Country, and the villages,
 And all those sides?
Seb. We'l cross these woods awhile then:
 Here if we fail, we'l gallop to Segovia.
 And if we light of no news there, hear nothing;
 We'l even turn fairly home, and coast the other side.
Cur. He may be sick, or faln into some danger;
 He has no guide, nor no man to attend him.
Seb. He's well enough, he has a travel'd body,
 And though he be old, he's tough, and will endure well;
 But he is so violent to finde her out,
 That his anger leads him a thousand wild-goose chases:
 I'le warrant he is well.
Cur. Shall we part company?
Seb. By no means, no: that were a sullen business:
 No pleasure in our journey: come, let's cross here first,
 And where we find the paths, let them direct us. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Enter Juletta, Alinda.

Jul. Why are you still so fearfull of me, Lady?
 So doubtfull of my faith, and honest service?
 To hide your self from me, to fly my company?
 Am I not yours? all yours? by this light you shake still;
 Do ye suspect me false? did I ever fail ye?
 Do you think I am corrupted? base? and treacherous?
 Lord, how ye look! Is not my life ty'd to ye?
 And all the power I have to serve, and honour ye?
 Still do ye doubt? still am I terrible?
 I will not trouble ye: good Heaven preserve ye,
 And send ye what ye wish: I will not see ye,
 Nor once remember I had such a Mistris.
 I will not speak of ye, nor name Alinda,
 For fear you should suspect I would betray ye:
 Goodness and peace conduct ye.
Alin. Prethee pardon me,
 I know thou art truly faithfull: and thou art welcom,
 A welcom partner to my miseries;
 Thou knowst I love thee too.
Jul. I have thought so, Lady.
Alin. Alas, my fears have so distracted me
 I durst not trust my self.
Jul. Come, pray ye think better,
 And cast those by: at least consider, Lady,
 How to prevent 'em: pray ye put off this fools coat;
 Though it have kept ye secret for a season,
 'Tis known now, and will betray ye; your arch enemy
 Roderigo is abroad: many are looking for ye.
Alin. I know it: and those many I have cozen'd.
Jul. You cannot still do thus.
Alin. I have no means to shift it.
Jul. I have: and shift you too. I lay last night
 At a poor widows house here in the Thicket,
 Whither I will conduct ye, and new shape ye,
 My self too to attend ye.
Alin. What means hast thou?
 For mine are gone.
Jul. Fear not, enough to serve ye;
 I came not out so empty.
Alin. Prethee tell me,
 (For thou hast struck a kind of comfort through me.)
 When saw'st thou Roderigo?
Jul. Even this morning,
 And in these woods: take heed, h'as got a new shape.
Alin. The habit of a Pilgrim? yes, I know it,
 And I hope shall prevent it; was he alone?
Jul. No Madam, and which made me wonder mightily,
 He was in company with that handsom Pilgrim,
 That sad sweet man.
Alin. That I forgot to give to?
Jul. The same, the very same, that you so pitied,
 A man as fit to suit his villanies.
Alin. And did they walk together?
Jul. Wondrous civilly.
Alin. Talk, and discourse?
Jul. I think so, for I saw 'em
 Make many stands, and then embrace each other.
Alin. The Pilgrim is betrai'd, a Judas dwells with him,
 A Sinon, that will seem a Saint to choak him.
 Canst thou but shew me this?
Jul. Lord how she trembles!
 Not thus, for all the world, ye are undone then;
 But let's retire, and alter, then we'l walk free;
 And then I'le shew ye any thing.
Alin. Come, good wench,
 And speedily: for I have strange faiths working,
 As strange fears too, I'le tell thee all my life then.
Jul. Come quick, I'le conduct ye, and still serve ye,
 And do not fear; hang fear, it spoils all projects.
 This way; I'le be your guide. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.

Enter Governour, Verdugo, Citizens.

Gov. Use all your sports,
 All your solemnities; 'tis the Kings day to morrow,
 His birth-day, and his marriage, a glad day,
 A day we ought to honour, all.
1 Citi. We will Sir,
 And make Segovia ring with our rejoycings.
Gov. Be sumptuous, but not riotous; be bounteous,
 But not in drunken Bacchanals: free to all strangers,
 Easie, and sweet in all your entertainments,
 For 'tis a Royal day admits no rudeness.
2 Citi. Your Lordship will do us the honour to be here your self,
 And grace the day?
Gov. 'Tis a main part of my service.
3 Citi. I hope your honour has taken into your consideration
 The miseries we have suffered by these Out-laws,
 The losses, hourly fears; the rude abuses
 Strangers that travel to us are daily loaden with,
 Our Daughters, and our wives complaints.
Gov. I am sorry for't,
 And have Commission from the King to ease it:
 You shall not be long vext.
1 Cit. Had we not walls, Sir,
 And those continually man'd too with our watches,
 We should not have a bit of meat to feed us.
 And yet they are our friends, and we must think so,
 And entertain 'em so sometimes, and feast 'em,
 And send 'em loaden home too, we are lost else.
2 Cit. They'l come to Church amongst us, as we hope Christians,
 When all their zeal is but to steal the Chalices;
 At this good time now, if your Lordship were not here,
 To awe their violence with your authority,
 They would play such gombals.
Gov. Are they grown so heady?
2 Cit. They would drink up all our Wine, piss out our Bonfires;
 Then, like the drunken Centaures, have at the fairest,
 Nay, have at all: four-score and ten's a Goddess,
 Whilst we, like fools, stand shaking in our cellars.
Gov. Are they so fierce upon so little sufferance?
 I'le give 'em such a purge, and suddenly.
 Verdugo, after this solemnity is over,
 Call on me for a charge of men, of good men,
 To see what house these knaves keep: of good Souldiers,
 As sturdy as themselves: that dare dispute with 'em,
 Dare walk the woods as well as they, as fearless,
 But with a better faith belabour 'em;
 I'le know what claim they have to their possession.
 'Tis pity of their Captain Roderigo,
 A well-bred Gentleman, and a good Souldier,
 And one his Majesty has some little reason
 To thank, for sundry services, and fair ones;
 That long neglect: bred this, I am sorry for him.
Ver. The hope of his estate keeps back his pardon,
 There's divers wasps, that buz about that hony-box,
 And long to lick themselves full.
Gov. True Verdugo,
 Would he had but the patience to discern it,
 And policy to wipe their lips.
Verd. To fetch him in Sir,
 By violence, he being now no infant,
 Will ask some bloody crowns. I know his people
 Are of his own choice, men that will not totter,
 Nor blench much at a Bullet; I know his order,
 And though he have no multitude, h'as manhood;
 The elder-twin to that too, staid experience.
 But if he must be forced, Sir,—
Gov. There's no remedy,
 Unless he come himself.
Ver. That will be doubtfull.
 Did you never hear yet of the noble Pedro?
Gov. I cannot by no means: I think he's dead sure;
 The court bewails much his untimely loss:
 The King himself laments him.
Verd. He was sunk;
 And if he be dead, he died happily,
 He buried all he had in the Kings service,
 And lost himself.
Gov. Well: if he be alive, Captain,
 (As hope still speaks the best) I know the Kings mind
 So inwardly and full, he will be happy.
 Come, to this preparation; when that's done,
 The Out-laws expedition is begun.
Cit. We'l contribute all to that, and help our selves too. [Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

Enter Roderigo, Pedro.

Rod. How sweet these solitary places are! how wantonly
 The wind blows through the leaves, and courts, and playes with 'em!
 Will ye sit down, and sleep? the heat invites ye.
 Hark how yond purling stream dances, and murmurs,
 The Birds sing softly too: pray take some rest, Sir.
 I would fain wooe his fancie to a peace,
 It labours high and hastily upon him;
 Pray ye sit, and I'le sit by.
Ped. I cannot sleep friend,
 I have those watches here admit no slumbers,
 Saw ye none yet?
Rod. No creature.
Ped. What strange Musick
 Was that we heard afar off?
Rod. I cannot guess;
 'Twas loud, and shrill: sometimes it shew'd hard by us,
 And by and by the sound fled as the wind does;
 Here's no inhabitants.
Ped. It much delighted me.
Rod. They talk of Fairies, and such demi-devils,
 This is a fine place to dance their gambols.—
Ped. Me thought I heard a voyce. [Musick and Birds.
Rod. They can sing admirably,
 They never lose their maiden-heads: I would fool any way
 To make him merry now: methink yond rocks yonder
 Shew like inchanted Cells, where they inhabit.

[Musick afar off. Pot Birds.

Ped. 'Tis here again, hark gentle Roderigo,
 Hark, hark: O sweet, sweet, how the Birds record too!
 Mark how it flies now every way. O love,
 In such a harmony art thou begotten,
 In such soft air, so gentle, lull'd and nourish'd,
 O my best Mistris!
Rod. How he weeps! dear Heaven
 Give him his hearts content, and me forgive too.
 I must melt too.
Ped. The Birds sing louder, sweeter,
 And every note they emulate one another.
 Lie still and hear: These when they have done their labours,

Enter Alinda, and Juletta, like old Women.

Their pretty airs, fall to their rests, enjoy 'em.
 Nothing rocks Love asleep, but death.
Rod. Who are these?
Ped. What.
Rod. Those there, those, those things that come upon us,
 Those grandam things, those strange antiquities.
 Did not I say these woods begot strange wonders?
Jul. Now ye may view 'em.
Alin. Ha?
Jul. The men ye long'd for,
 Here they are both: now ye may boldly talk with 'em,
 And never be ghess'd at: be not afraid, nor faint not;
 They wonder at us; let's maintain that wonder;
 Shake not, but what ye purpose do discreetly,
 And from your tongue I'le take my part.
Alin. Ha?
Jul. There: before ye, there, do not turn coward Mistress,
 If ye do love, carry your Love out handsomely.
Alin. 'Tis he and Roderigo; what a peace
 Dwells in their faces, what a friendly calm
 Crowns both their souls!
Rod. They show as if they were mortal,
 They come upon us still.
Ped. Be not afraid, Man,
 Let 'em be what they will, they cannot hurt us.
Rod. That thing i'th' Button'd-cap looks terribly.
 She has Guns in her eyes, the Devils Ingeneer.
Ped. Come, stand, and let's go meet 'em.
Rod. Go you first.
 I have less faith: when I have said my Prayers—
Ped. There needs no fear, hale reverend dames.
Alin. Good even.
 What do ye seek?
Ped. We would seek happier fortunes.
Rod. That little devil has main need of a Barber,
 What a trim beard she has!
Alin. Seek 'em, and make 'em,
 Lie not still, nor longer here,
 Here inhabits nought but fear,
 Be constant good, in faith be clear,
 Fortune will wait ye every where.
Ped. Whither should we go? for we believe thy reverence,
 And next obey.
Alin. Go to Segovia,
 And there before the Altar pay thy vowes,
 Thy gifts, and prayers: unload thy heaviness,
 To morrow shed thy tears, and gain thy suit,
 Such honest noble showrs, ne're wanted fruit.
Jul. Stand you out too.
Rod. I shall be hang'd, or whipt now:
 These know, and these have power.
Jul. See how he shakes.
 A secure conscience never quakes,
 Thou hast been ill; be so no more,
 A good retreat is a great store.
 Thou hast commanded men of might,
 Command thy self, and then thou art right.
Alin. Command thy will: thy foul desires.
 Put out and quench thy unhallowed fires:
 Command thy mind, and make that pure;
 Thou art wise then, valiant, and secure.
 A blessing then thou maist beget.
Jul. A curse else that shall never set
 Will light upon thee: Say thy Prayers,
 Thou hast as many sins, as hairs.
 Thou art a Captain, let thy men
 Be honest, and good thoughts, and then
 Thou maist command, and lead in chief,
 Yet thou art bloody, and a thief.
Rod. What shall I do? I do confess.
Alin. Retire,
 And purge thee perfect in his fire:
 His life observe; live in his School,
 And then thou shalt put off the fool.
Jul. Pray at Segovia too, and give
 Thy Offrings up, repent, and live. [Musick within.
Alin. Away, away: enquire no more,
 Do this, ye are rich, else fools, and poor;
 What musick's this?
Jul. Retire? 'tis some neat Joy,
 In honour of the Kings great day: they wonder,
 This comes in right to confirm their reverence.
 Away, away, let them admire, it makes
 For our advantage: how the Captain shakes! [Exit.
Ped. This was the Musick.
Rod. Yes, yes, how I sweat!
 I was never so deserted; sure these woods
 Are only inhabited with rare dreams, and wonders;
 I would not be a knave again, a villain:
 O how I loath it now: for these know all Sir,
 And they would find me out.
Ped. They are excellent women,
 Deep in their knowledge, friend.
Rod. I would not be traytor,
 And have these of my Jury; how light I am,
 And how my heart laughs now me thinks within me!
 Now I am Catechiz'd, I would ever dwell here,
 For here is a kind of Court of Reformation;
 Had I been stubborn friend.
Ped. They would have found it.
Rod. And then they would have handled me a new way,
 The Devils dump had been danced then.
Ped. Let's away
 And do their great commands, and do 'em handsomely:
 Contrite, and true, for I believe Roderigo,
 And constantly believe, we shall be happy.
Rod. So you do well; fall edge or flat o' my side;
 All I can stagger at is the Kings anger,
 Which if it come, I am prepar'd to meet it.
Ped. The King has mercy, friend, as well as Justice:
 And when you fall: no more—
Rod. I hope the fairest. [Exeunt.

SCENE V.

Enter Master, Seberto, Curio.

Cur. We have told ye what he is: what time we have sought him:
 His nature, and his name: the seeming Boy too
 Ye had here, how, and what by your own relation,
 All circumstances we have clear'd: That the Duke sent him
 We told ye how impossible; he knows him not;
 That he is mad himself, and therefore fit
 To be your Prisoner, we dare swear against it.
Seb. Take heed Sir, be not madder than you would make him;
 Though he be rash, and suddain (which is all his wildness)
 Take heed ye wrong him not: he is a Gentleman,
 And so must be restor'd and clear'd in all points;
 The King shall be a Judge else.
Cur. 'Twas some trick
 That brought him hither: the boy, and letter conterfeit,
 Which shall appear, if ye dare now detain him.
Mast. I dare not Sir; nor will not: I believe ye,
 And will restore him up: had I known sooner
 H'ad been a neighbour, and the man you speak him,
 (Though as I live, he carried a wild seeming)
 My Service, and my self had both attended him.
 How I have us'd him, let him speak.
Seb. Let's in, and visit him:
 Then to the holy Temple: there pay our duties,
 And so we'l take our leaves.
Mast. I'le wait upon you. [Exeunt.

SCENE VI.

An Altar prepar'd. Solemn Musick.

Enter Governour, Verdugo, Courtiers, Ladies, &c.

Enter Pedro, and Roderigo.

Ped. For our selves first, thus we bend,
 Forgive us heaven, and be our friend.
Rod. And happy fortune to us send.
Ped. To the King, honour, and all Joy,
 Long, and happy from annoy.
Rod. Prosperous be all his dayes
 Every new hour, a new praise.
Ped. Every minute thus be seen,
Both. And thousand honours Crown the Queen. [Musick.

Enter Alphonso, Curio, Seberto.

Seb. Come to the Altar: let us do our duties.
Alph. I have almost forgot a Church.
Cur. Kneel reverently.
Alph. For my lost wits (let me see)
 First I pray: and secondly
 To be at home again, and free,
 And if I travel more, hang me.
 For the King, and for the Queen,
 That they may be wise, and seen
 Never in the Mad-mans Inne.
 For my Daughter, I would pray
 But she has made a holy-day,
 And needs not my devotion now
 Let her take her own course, Heaven,
 Whether it be odd, or even, [Musick.

Enter Alinda, and Juletta, like Shepheards.

And if that please not, take her you.
Seb. A short, and sweet Meditation: what are these here?
Alin. Hale to this sacred place.
Jul. They are all here, Madam:
 No violence dare touch here; be secure:
 My Bilbo Master too: how got he loose again?
 How lamentably he looks! he has had discipline.
 I dare not let him know my pranks.
Seb. 'Tis she sure.
Cur. 'Tis certainly.
Ped. Ha! do I dazel?
Rod. 'Tis the fair Alinda.
Gov. What wonder stand these strangers in?
Rod. Her woman by her.
 The same Sir, as I live.
Alph. I had a Daughter,
 With such a face once: such eyes and nose too,
 Ha, let me see, 'tis wondrous like Alinda,
 Their devotion ended, I'le mark 'em and nearer.
 And she had a Filly that waited on her,
 Just with such a favour:
 Do they keep Goats now?
Alin. Thus we kneel, and thus we pray
 A happy honour to this day,
 Thus our Sacrifice we bring
 Ever happy to the King.
Jul. These of Purple, Damask green
 Sacred to the vertuous Queen
 Here we hang.
Alin. As these are now
 Her glories ever spring, and show.
 These for our selves: our hopes, and loves,
 Full of pinks, and Ladies gloves,
 Of hearts-ease too, which we would fain
 As we labour for, attain;
 Hear me Heaven, and as I bend,
 Full of hope, some comfort send.
Jul. Hear her: hear her: if there be [Musick.
 A spotless Sweetness, this is she.
Ped. Now Roderigo stand.
Rod. He that divides ye
 Divides my life too.
Gov. Pedro, Noble Pedro,
 Do not you know your friend?
Ped. I know, and honour ye.
Gov. Lady this leave I'le crave, pray be not angry,
 I will not long divide you: how happy, Pedro,
 Would all the court be now, might they behold thee?
 Might they but see you thus, and thus embrace you?
 The King will be a joyfull man believe it,
 Most joyfull, Pedro.
Ped. I am his humble Servant.
 Nay, good Sir, speak your will, I see you wonder, one easie
 word from you—
Alph. I dare say nothing;
 My tongue's a new tongue Sir, and knows his tither,
 Let her do what she please, I dare do nothing,
 I have been damn'd for doing, will the King know him?
 That fellow there, will he respect and honour him?
 He has been look'd upon they say: will he own him?
Gov. Yes certainly and grace him, ever honour him,
 Restore him every way, he has much lamented him.
Alp. Is't your will too? this is the last time of asking.
Rod. I am sure, none else shall touch her, none else enjoy her.
 If this, and this hold.
Al. You had best begin the game then, I have no title in her,
 Pray take her, and dispatch her, and commend me to her,
 And let me get me home, and hope I am sober:
 Kiss, kiss, it must be thus: stand up Alinda,
 I am the more child, and more need of blessing.
 Ye had a waiting woman, one Juletta,
 A pretty desperate thing, just such another
 As this sweet Lady; we call'd her nimble chaps.
 I pray is this the party?
Jul. No indeed Sir,
 She is at home; I am a little Foot-Boy,
 That walk a nights, and fright old Gentlemen;
 Make 'em lose Hats and Cloaks.
Alph. And Horses too.
Jul. Sometimes I do Sir, teach 'em the way through ditches;
 how to break their worships shins, and noses
 Against old broken Stiles, and Stumps.
Alph. A fine art.
 I feel it in my bones yet.
Jul. I am a Drum Sir,
 A Drum at mid-night, ran tan tan tan tan Sir,
 Do you take me for Juletta? I am a Page Sir,
 That brought a letter from the Duke of Medina
 To have one senior Alphonso, just such another
 As your old worship, worm'd for running mad Sir.
 Alas, you are mistaken.
Alph. Thou art the Devil,
 And so thou hast used me.
Jul. I am any thing,
 An old woman, that tells fortunes.
Rod. Ha.
Jul. And frights good people,
 And sends them to Segovia for their fortunes:
 I am strange airs, and excellent sweet voyces.
 I am any thing, to do her good, believe me;
 She now recovered, and her wishes crown'd
 I am Juletta again, pray Sir forgive me,
Alph. I dare not do otherwise, for fear thou should'st still follow me,
 Prethee be forgiven, and I prethee forgive me too:
 And if any of you will marry her.
Jul. No I beseech you Sir;
 My Mistress is my husband, with her I'le dwell still,
 And when you play any more pranks you know where to have me.
Ped. You know him Sir.
Gov. Know him, and much lament him:
 The King's incens'd much, much Sir, I can assure you.
Ped. Noble Governour.
Gov. But since he is your friend, and now appears,
 In honour of this day and love to you Sir:
 I'le try the power I have, to the pinch I'le put it;
 Here's my hand Roderigo, I'le set you fair again.
Rod. And here's mine, to be true, and full of service.
Gov. Your people too, shall have their general pardons,
 We'l have all peace and love.
Rod. All shall pray for you.
Gov. To my house now, and suite you to your worths;
 Off with these weeds, and appear glorious:
 Then to the Priest, that shall attend us here,
 And this be stil'd Loves new and happy year.
Rod. The Kings and Queens, two noble honours meet,
 To grace this day, two true loves at their feet.
Alph. Well well, since wedding will come after wooing,
 Give me some Rose-Mary, and let's be going. [Exeunt.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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