Arri. A Courtier my Lord, and one that I wonder your Grace knows not: for he hath followed your Court, and your last predecessors, from place to place, any time this seven year[e], as faithfully as your Spits and your Dripping-pans have done, and almost as greasily.

Duke. Oh we know him, as we have heard, he keeps a Kalender of all the [famous] dishes of meat, that have been in the Court, ever since our great Grandfathers time; and when he can thrust in at no Table, he makes his meat of that.

We Princes do use, to preferre many for nothing, and to take particular and free knowledg[e], almost in the nature of acquaintance of many; whom we do use only for our pleasures, and [d]o give largely to numbers; more out of policy to be thought liberal, and by that means to make the people strive to deserve our Love; than to reward any particular desert of theirs, to whom we give: and do suffer our selves to hear flatterers, more for recreation

Luc. I wonder they that know their states so well, should fancy such base slaves.

Duke. Why so, I thought till I was Duke, I thought I should have left me no more flatterers, than there are now Plain-dealers; and yet for all this my resolution, I am most palpably flattered: the poor man may loath covetousness and flattery, but fortune will alter the mind when the wind turns: there may be well a little conflict, but it will drive the billows before it.

Laz. Go run, search, pry in every nook and angle of the Kitchins, Larders, and Pasteries, know what meat's boil'd, bak'd, rost, stew'd, fri'd, or sous'd, at this dinner to be serv'd directly, or indirectly, to every several Table in the Court, be gone.

Boy. I run, but not so fast as your mouth will do upon the stroke of Eleven. [Exit Boy.

Laz. What an excellent thing did God bestow upon man, when he [did give] him a good stomach! what unbounded graces there are pour'd upon them that have the continual command of the very best of these blessings! 'tis an excellent thing to be a Prince; he is serv'd with such admirable variety of Fare; such innumerable choice of Delicates; his Tables are full fraught with most nourishing food, and his Cubbards heavy laden with rich Wines; his Court is still filled with most [pleasing varieties]: In the Summer, his Palace is full of Green Geese; and in Winter it [swarmeth] Woodcocks,

Laza. Brief boy, brief, discourse the service of each several Table compendiously.

Boy. Here's a Bill of all Sir.

Laza. Give it me, a Bill of all the several services this day appointed for every Table in the Court,

Boy. For the Captain of the Guards Table, three chines of Beef, and two jo[l]ls of Sturgeon.

Laza. A portly service, but gross, gross, proceed to the Dukes own Table, dear boy, to the Dukes own Table.

Boy. For the Dukes own Table, the head of an Umbrana.

Laza. Is't possible? can Heaven be so propitious to the Duke?

Boy. Yes, I'll assure you Sir, 'tis possible, Heaven is so propitious to him.

Boy. 'Tis very fresh and sweet, Sir, the fish was taken but this night, and the head, as a rare novelty, appointed by special commandement for the Dukes own Table, this dinner.

A board groaning under the heavy burden of the beasts that cheweth the cudd, and the Fowl that cutteth the Air: I shall not like the Table of a countrey Justice, besprinkled over with all manner of cheap Sallads, sliced Beef, Giblets, and Petitoes, to fill up room, nor should there stand any great, cumbersom, un-cut-up pies, at the nether end fill'd with moss and stones, partly to make a shew with and partly to keep the lower Mess from eating, nor shall my meat come in sneaking, like the City service, one dish a quarter of an hour after another, and gone, as if they had appointed to meet there, and had mistook the hour, nor should it, like the new Court service, come in in haste, as if it fain would be gone again, all courses at once, like a hunting breakfast, but I would have my several courses, and my dishes well fill'd, my first course should be brought in after the antient manner, by a score of old bleer-ey'd Serving-men, in long blew coats, (marry they shall buy Silk, Facing, and Buttons themselves) but that's by the way.

Boy. Master the time calls on, will you be walking? [Exit Boy.

Laza. Follow boy, follow, my guts were half an hour since in the privy Kitchin. [Exeunt.

Oria. Faith brother, I must needs go yonder.

Count. And faith Sister what will you do yonder?

Oria. I know the Lady Honoria will be glad to see me.

Count. Glad to see you? faith the Lady Honoria cares for you as she doth for all other young Ladies, she's glad to see you, and will shew you the Privy Garden, and tell you how many Gowns the Duchess had; Marry if you have ever an old Uncle, that would be a Lord, or ever a kinsman that hath done a murther, or committed a robbery, and will give good store of Money to procure his pardon, then the Lady Honoria will be glad to see you.

Oria. I, but they say one shall see fine sights at the Court.

Count. I'll tell you what you shall see, you shall see many faces of mans making, for you shall find very few as God left them: and you shall see many legs too; amongst the rest you shall behold one pair, the feet of which, were in times past, sockless, but are now through the change of time (that alters all things) very strangely become the legs of a Knight and a Courtier; another pair you shall see, that were heir apparent legs to a Glover, these legs hope shortly to be honourable; when they pass by they will bow, and the mouth to these legs, will seem to offer you some Courtship; it [will] swear, but [it] will lye, hear it not.

Oria. I would go, if it were but only to shew you, that I could be there, and be mov'd with none of these tricks.

Count. Your servants are ready?

Oria. An hour since.

Count. Well, if you come off clear from this hot service, Your praise shall be the greater. Farewel Sister.

Oria. Farewel Brother.

Count. Once more, if you stay in the presence till candle-light, keep on the foreside o'th' Curtain; and do you hear, take heed of the old Bawd, in the cloth of Tissue sleeves, and the knit Mittines. Farewel Sister. [Exit Oria.

Now am I idle, I would I had been a Scholar, that I might a studied now: the punishment of meaner men is, they have too much to do; our only misery is, that without company we know not what to do; I must take some of the common courses of our Nobility; which is thus: if I can find no company that likes me, pluck off my Hatband, throw an old Cloak over my face, and as if I would not be known, walk hastily through the streets, till I be discovered; then there goes Count such a one, says one; there goes Count such a one, says another: Look how fast he goes, says a third; there's some great matters in hand questionless, says a fourth; when all my business is to hav[e] them say so: this hath been used; or if I can find any company, I'll after dinner to the Stage, to see a Play; where, when I first enter, you shall have a murmure in the house, every one that does not know cries, What Nobleman is that? all the Gallants on the Stage rise, vail to me, kiss their hand, offer me their places: then I pick out some one, whom I please to grace among the rest, take his seat, use it, throw my cloak over my face, and laugh at him: the poor Gentleman imagines himself most highly grac'd, thinks all the Auditors esteem him one of my bosom friends; and in right special regard with me. But here comes a Gentleman, that I hope will make me better sport, than either street and stage fooleries.

This man loves to eat good meat, always provided, he do not pay for it himself, he goes by the name of the Hungry Courtier, marry, because I think that name will not sufficiently distinguish him, for no doubt he hath more fellows there, his name is Lazarello, he is none of these [same] ordinary eaters, that will devour three breakfasts, and as many dinners, without any prejudice to their Beavers, Drinkings, or Suppers; but he hath a more courtly kind of hunger, and doth hunt more after novelty, than plenty, I'll overhear him.

Boy. Sir.

Laza. Will the Count speak with me?

Boy. One of his Gentlemen is gone to inform him of your coming, Sir.

Laza. There is no way left for me to compass th[is] Fish-head, but by being presently made known to the Duke.

Boy. That will be hard Sir.

Boy. Master, the Count's here.

Laza. Where? my Lord I do beseech you.

Count. Y'are very welcome Sir, I pray you stand up, you shall dine with me.

Laza. I do beseech your Lordship by the love I still have born to your honourable house.

Count. Sir, what need all this? you shall dine with me, I pray rise.

Laza. Perhaps your Lordship takes me for one of these same fellows, that do as it were respect victuals.

Count. Oh Sir by no means.

Laza. Your Lordship has often promised, that whensoever I should affect greatness, your own hand should help to raise me.

Count. And so much still assure your self of.

Laza. And though I must confess, I have ever shun'd popularity, by the example of others, yet I do now feel my self a little ambitious, your Lordship is great, and though young, yet a Privy Counsellor.

Count. I pray you Sir leap into the matter, what would You have me do for you?

Laza. I would intreat your Lordship to make me known to the Duke.

Count. When Sir?

Laza. Suddainly my Lord, I would have you present me unto him this morning.

Count. It shall be done, but for what virtues, would you have him take notice of you?

Laza. Your Lordship shall know that presently.

Count. 'Tis pity of this fellow, he is of good wit, and sufficient understanding, when he is not troubled with this greedy worm.

Laza. 'Faith, you may intreat him to take notice of me for any thing; for being an excellent Farrier, for playing well at Span-counter, or sticking knives in walls, for being impudent, or for nothing; why may not I be a Favorite on the suddain? I see nothing against it.

Count. Not so Sir, I know you have not the face to be a Favourite on the suddain.

Laz. Why then you shall present me as a Gentleman well qualified, or one extraordinary seen in divers strange mysteries.

Count. In what Sir? as how?

Laz. Marry as thus—

Count. Yonder's my old Spirit, that hath haunted me daily, ever since I was a privy Counsellor, I must be rid of him, I pray you stay there, I am a little busie, I will speak with you presently.

Laza. You shall bring me in, and after a little other talk taking me by the hand, you shall utter these words to the Duke: May it please your grace, to take note of a Gentleman, well read, deeply learned, and throughly grounded in the hidden knowledge of all Sallads and Pot-herbs whatsoever.

Count. 'Twill be rare, if you will walk before, Sir, I will overtake you instantly.

Laza. Your Lordships ever.

Count. This fellow is a kind of an informer, one that lives in Alehouses and Taverns, and because he perceives some worthy men in this Land, with much labour and great expence, to have discovered things dangerously hanging over the State; he thinks to discover as much out of the talk of drunkards in Tap-houses: he brings me informations, pick'd out of broken words, in mens common talk, which, with his malicious mis-application, he hopes will seem dangerous, he doth besides, bring me the names of all the young Gentlemen in the City, that use Ordinaries, or Taverns, talking (to my thinking) only as the freedom of their youth teach them, without any further ends; for dangerous and seditious spirits; he is besides, an arrant whoremaster, as any is in Milan, of a Lay-man; I will not meddle with the Clergy: he is parcel Lawyer, and in my conscience much of their religion, I must put upon him some piece of service; come hither Sir, what have you to do with me?

Int. Little my Lord, I only come to know how your Lordship would employ me.

Count. Observed you that Gentleman, that parted from me but now?

Int. I saw him now my Lord.

Count. I was sending for you, I have talked with this man, and I do find him dangerous.

Int. Is your Lordship in good earnest?

Count. Hark you Sir, there may perhaps be some within ear-[shot]. [He whispers with him.

Laz. Sirrah, will you venture your life, the Duke hath sent the Fish-head to my Lord?

Boy. Sir if he have not, kill me, do what you will with me.

Laz. How uncertain is the state of all mortal things! I have these crosses from my Cradle, from my very Cradle, insomuch that I do begin to grow desperate: Fortune I do despise thee, do thy worst; yet when I do better gather my self together, I do find it is rather the part of a wise man, to prevent the storms of Fortune by stirring, than to suffer them by standing still, to pour themselves upon his naked body. I will about it.

Count. Who's within there?

Let this Gentleman out at the back door, forget not my instructions, if you find any thing dangerous; trouble not your self to find out me, but carry your informations to the Lord Lucio, he is a man grave, and well experienced in these businesses.

[Int. Your Lordships Servant.] [Exit Intelligencer and Servingman.

Laz. Will it please your [worship walke]?

Count. Sir I was coming, I will overtake you.

Laz. I will attend you over against the Lord Gonderinoes house.

Count. You shall not attend there long.

Serv. My Lord:

Gond. Ha!

Serv. Here's one hath brought you a present.

Gond. From whom? from a woman? if it be from a woman, bid him carrie it back, and tell her she's a whore; what is it?

Serv. A Fish head my Lord.

Gond. What Fish head?

Serv. I did not aske that my Lord.

Gond. Whence comes it?

Ser. From the Court.

Gond. O 'tis a Cods-head.

Serv. No my Lord, 'tis some strange head, it comes from the Duke.

Gond. Let it be carried to my Mercer, I doe owe him money for silks, stop his mouth with that. [Exit Serv.

Was there ever any man that hated his wife after death but I? and for her sake all women, women that were created only for the preservation of little dogs.

Serv. My Lord the Count's sister being overtaken in the streets, with a great hail-storm, is light at your gate, and desires [room] till the storm be overpast.

Gond. Is she a woman?

Serv. I my Lord I think so.

Gond. I have none for her then: bid her get her gone, tell her she is not welcome.

Serv. My Lord, she is now comming up.

Gond. She shall not come up, tell her any thing; tell her I have but one great room in my house, and I am now in it at the close stool.

Serv. She's here my Lord.

Gond. O impudence of women: I can keep dogs out of my house, or I can defend my house against theeves, but I cannot keep out women.

Now Madam, what hath your Ladyship to say to me?

Oria. My Lord, I was bold to crave the help of your house against the storm.

Gond. Your Ladyships boldness in coming will be impudence in staying; for you are most unwelcome.

Oriana. Oh my Lord!

Gond. Doe you laugh? by the hate I bear to you, 'tis true.

Orian. Y'are merry my Lord.

Gond. Let me laugh to death if I be, or can be whilst thou art here, or livest; or any of thy sex.

Oriana. I commend your Lordship.

Gond. Doe you commend me? why doe you commend me? I give you no such cause: thou art a filthy impudent whore; a woman, a very woman.

Oria. Ha, ha, ha.

Gond. Begot when thy father was drunk.

Orian. Your Lordship hath a good wit.

Gond. How? what have I a good wit?

Orian. Come my Lord, I have heard before of your Lordships merry vain in jesting against our Sex, which I being desirous to hear, made me rather choose your Lordships house, than any other, but I know I am welcome.

Gond. Let me not live if you be: me thinks it doth not become you, to come to my house being a stranger to you, I have no woman in my house, to entertain you, nor to shew you your chamber; why should you come to me? I have no Galleries, nor banqueting houses, nor bawdy pictures to shew your Ladyship.

Orian. Believe me this your Lordships plain[n]ess makes me think my self more welcome, than if you had sworn by all the pretty Court oaths that are, I had been welcomer than your soul to your body.

Gond. Now she's in, talking treason will get her out, I durst sooner undertake to talk an Intelligencer out of the room, and speak more than he durst hear, than talk a woman out of my company.

Serv. My Lord the Duke being in the streets, and the storm continuing, is entred your gate, and now coming up.

Gond. The Duke! now I know your Errand Madam; you have plots and private meetings in hand: why doe you choose my house? are you asham'd to goe to't in the old coupling place, though it be less suspicious here; for no Christian will suspect a woman to be in my house? yet you may do it cleanlyer there, for there is a care had of those businesses; and wheresoever you remove, your great maintainer and you shall have your lodgings directly opposite, it is but putting on your night-gown, and your s[l]ippers; Madam, you understand me?

Orian. Before I would not understand him, but now he speaks riddles to me indeed.

Duke. 'Twas a strange hail-storm.

Lucio. 'Twas exceeding strange.

Gond. Good morrow to your grace.

Duke. Good morrow Gonderino.

Gond. Justice great Prince.

Duke. Why should you beg for justice, I never did you wrong; What's the offendor?

Gond. A woman.

Duke. I know your ancient quarrell against that Sex; but what hainous crime hath she committed?

Gond. She hath gone abroad.

Duke. What? it cannot be.

Gond. She hath done it.

Duke. How? I never heard of any woman that did so before.

Count. It falls out better than we could expect Sir, that we should find the Duke and my Lord Gondarino together; both which you desire to be acquainted with.

Laz. 'Twas very happy: Boy, goe down into the kitchen, and see if you can spy that same; I am now in some hope: I have me thinks a kind of fever upon me. [Exit Boy.

A certain gloominess within me, doubting as it were, betwixt two passions: there is no young maid upon her wedding night, when her husband sets first foot in the bed, blushes, and looks pale again, oftner than I doe now. There is no Poet acquainted with more shakings and quakings, towards the latter end of [his] new play, when he's in that case, that he stands peeping betwixt [the] Curtains, so fearfully that a Bottle of Ale cannot be opened, but he thinks some body hisses, than I am at this instant.

Count. Are they in consultation? If they be, either my young Duke hath gotten some Bastard, and is persuading my Knight yonder to father the child, and marry the wench, or else some Cock-pit is to be built.

Laz. My Lord! what Nobleman's that?

Count. His name is Lucio, 'tis he that was made a Lord at the request of some of his friends for his wives sake: he affects to be a great States-man, and thinks it consists in night-caps and jewells, and tooth-picks.

Laz. And what's that other?

Count. A Knight Sir, that pleaseth the Duke to favour, and to raise to some extraordinary fortunes, he can make as good men as himself, every day in the week, and doth—

Laz. For what was he raised?

Count. Truely Sir, I am not able to say directly, for what; But for wearing of red breeches as I take it; he's a brave man, he will spend three Knighthoods at a Supper without Trumpets.

Laza. My Lord I'll talk with him, for I have a friend, that would gladly receive the humor.

Count. If he have the itch of Knighthood upon him, let him repair to that Physitian, he'll cure him: but I will give you a note; is your friend fat or lean?

Laz. Something fat.

Count. 'Twill be the worse for him.

Laza. I hope that's not material.

Count. Very much, for there is an impost set upon Knighthoods, & your friend shall pay a Noble in the pound.

Count. The Lord of the house, he that you desire to be acquainted with, he doth hate women for the same cause that I love them.

Laz. What's that?

Count. For that which Apes want: you perceive me Sir?

Laz. And is he sad? Can he be sad that hath so rich a gem under his roof, as that which I doe follow. What young Lady's that?

Count. Which? Have I mine eye-sight perfect, 'tis my sister: did I say the Duke had a Bastard? What should she make here with him and his Councell? She hath no papers in her hand to petition to them, she hath never a husband in prison, whose release she might sue for: That's a fine trick for a wench; to get her husband clapt up, that she may more freely, and with less suspition, visit the private studies of men in authority. Now I doe discover their consultation, yon fellow is a Pander without all salvation: But let me not condemn her too rashly without weighing the matter; she's a young Lady, she went forth early this morning with a waiting woman, and a Page, or so: This is no garden house; in my conscience she went forth with no dishonest intent: for she did not pretend going to any Sermon in the further end of the City: Neither went she to see any odd old Gentlewoman, that mourns for the death of her husband, or the loss of her friend, and must have young Ladys come to comfort her: those are the damnable Bawds: 'Twas no set meeting certainly; for there was no wafer-woman with her these three days on my knowledge: I'll talk with her; Good morrow my Lord.

Gond. Y'are welcome Sir: here's her brother come now to doe a kind office for his sister; is it not strange?

Count. I am glad to meet you here sister.

Orian. I thank you good brother: and if you doubt of the cause of my coming I can satisfie you.

Count. No faith, I dare trust thee, I doe suspect thou art honest; for it is so rare a thing to be honest amongst you, that some one man in an age, may perhaps suspect some two women to be honest, but never believe it verily.

Luci. Let your return be suddain.

Arri. U[n]suspected by them.

Duke. It shall; so shall I best perceive their Love, if there be any; Farewell.

Duke. His name?

Count. Lazarello.

Duke. I heard of him this morning, which is he?

Count. Lazarello, pluck up thy spirits, thy [Fortuns are] now raising, the Duke calls for thee, and thou shalt be acquainted with him.

Laz. He's going away, and I must of necessity stay here upon business.

Count. 'Tis all one, thou shalt know him first.

Laz. Stay a little, if he should offer to take me away with him, and by that means I should loose that I seek for; but if he should I will not goe with him.

Count. Lazarello, the Duke stayes, wilt thou lose this opportunity?

Laz. How must I speak to him?

Count. 'Twas well thought of: you must not talk to him as you doe to an ordinary man, honest plain sence, but you must wind about him: for example, if he should aske you what a clock it is, you must not say; If it please your grace 'tis nine; but thus; thrice three a clock, so please my Sovereign: or thus;

Laz. I hope I shall doe it.

Count. Come: May it please your grace to take note of a Gentleman, wel seen, deeply read, and throughly grounded in the hidden knowledge of all sallets and potherbs whatsoever.

Duke. I shall desire to know him more inwardly.

Laz. I kiss the Oxe-hide of your graces foot.

Count. Very well: will your grace question him a little?

Duke. How old are you?

Duke. I understand you Sir.

Luci. How like an ignorant Poet he talks.

Duke. You are eight and twenty year[e] old? what time of the day doe you hold it to be?

And if it shall please your grace, to accompany your self with him, I doubt not, but that he will, at the least, make good my commendations.

Laza. Good my Lord stand betwixt me and my overthrow, you know I'm ti'd here, and may not depart, my gracious Lord, so waightie are the businesses of mine own, which at this time do call upon me, that I will rather chuse to die, than to neglect them.

Count. Nay you shall [well] perceive, besides the virtues that I have alreadie inform'd you of, he hath a stomach which will stoop to no Prince alive.

Duk. Sir at your best leisure, I shall thirst to see you.

Laza. And I shall hunger for it.

Duk. Till then farewell all.

Gon. Count. Long life attend your Grace.

Duk. I doe not tast this sport, Arrigo, Lucio.

Arrigo. Luci. We doe attend. [Exeunt Duke, Arrigo, Lucio.

Gond. His grace is gone, and hath left his Hellen with me, I'm no pander for him, neither can I be won with the hope of gain, or the itching desire of tasting my Lords lecherie to him, to keep her at (my house) or bring her in disguise, to his bed Chamber.

Boy. My Lord; The fish head is gone again.

Count. W[h]ither?

Boy. I know whither my Lord.

Count. Keep it from Lazarillo: Sister shall I confer with you in private, to know the cause of the Dukes coming hither, I know he makes you acquainted with his business of State.

Oria. I'll satisfie you brother, for I see you are jealous of me.

Laza. Lazarillo, thou art happy, thy carriage hath begot love, and that love hath brought forth fruits; thou art here in the company of a man honorable, that will help thee to tast of the bounties of the Sea, and when thou hast so done thou shalt retire thy self unto the court, and there tast of the delicates of the earth, and be great in the eyes of thy Soveraign: now no more shalt thou need to scramble for thy meat, nor remove thy stomach with the Court; But thy credit shall command thy hearts desire, and all novelties shall be sent as presents unto thee.

Count. Good Sister, when you see your own time, wil[l] you return home.

Oria. Yes brother, and not before.

Laza. I will grow popular in this State, and overthrow the fortunes of a number, that live by extortion.

Count. Lazarello, bestirr thy self nimbly and sodainly, and hear me with patience [to hear].

Laza. Let me not fall from my self; Speak I'm bound.

Count. So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear the fish head is gone, and we know not whither.

Count. Farwell my Lord, I was entreated to invite your Lordship to a Lady's upsiting.

Gond. O my ears, why Madam, will not you follow your brother? you are waited for by great men, heel bring you to him.

Oria. I'm very well my Lord, you doe mistake me, if you think I affect greater company than your self.

Gond. What madness possesseth thee, that thou canst imagine me a fit man to entertain [Ladies]; I tell thee, I doe use to tear their hair, to kick them, and [to] twindge their noses, if they be not carefull in avoiding me.

Oria. Your Lordship may discant upon your own behavior as please you, but I protest, so sweet and courtly it appeares in my eye, that I mean not to leave you yet.

Oria. I have heard of your Lordships nothing, I'll put that to the venture.

Gond. Well thou shalt have meat, I'll send it to thee.

Oria. I'll keep no state my Lord, neither doe I mourn, I'll dine with you.

Pand. Sir, what may be done by art shall be done, I wear no[t] this black cloak for nothing.

Mer. Perform this, help me to this great heir by learning, and you shall want no black cloaks; taffaties, silkgrogra[m]s, sattins and velvets are mine, they shall be yours; perform what you have promis'd, and you shall make me a lover of Sciences, I will study the learned languages, and keep my shop-book in Latine.

Pand. Trouble me not now, I will not fail you within this hour at your shop.

Mer. Let Art have her course. [Exit Mercer.

Pand. 'Tis well spoken, Madona.

Mad. Hast thou brought me any customers.

Pan. No.

Ma. What the devil do'st thou in black?

Pa. As all solemn professors of setled courses, doe cover my knavery with it: will you marry a citizen; Reasonably rich, and unreasonably foolish, silks in his shop, mony in his purse, and no wit in his head?

Ma. Out upon him, I could have [bin] otherwise than so, there was a Knight swore he would have had me, if I would have lent him but forty shillings to have redeem'd his cloak, to goe to Church in.

Pan. Then your wastcote wayter shall have him, call her in!

Ma. Francessina!

Fr. Anon!

Pan. And get you after her, I will work upon my citizen whilst he is warm, I must not suffer him to consult with his neighbours, the openest fools are hardly cousened, if they once grow jealous. [Exeunt.

Orian. Now Venus, be my speed, inspire me with all the severall subtil temptations, that thou hast already given, or hast in store heareafter to bestow upon our Sex: grant that I may apply that Physick that is most apt to work upon him: whether he will soonest be mov'd with wantonness, singing, dancing; or being passionate, with scorn; or with sad and serious looks, cunningly mingled with sighs, with smiling, lisping, kissing the hand, and making short curt'sies, Or with whatsoever other nimble power, he may be caught, doe thou infuse into me, and when I have him, I will sacrifice him up to thee.

Here's ta, and tha wants lodging, take my house, 'tis big enough, 'tis thine own, 'twill hold five leacherous Lords, and their lackies without discovery: there's stoves and bathing tubs.

Orian. Dear Lord: y'are too wild.

Gond. Shalt have a Doctor too, thou shalt, 'bout six and twentie, 'tis a pleasing age; Or I can help thee to a handsome Usher: or if thou lack'st a page, I'll give thee one, preethee keep house, and leave me.

Oria. I cannot think your better knowledg[e] can use a woman so uncivilly.

Gond. I wo'd thou wouldst sit still, and say nothing: what mad-man let thee lo[o]se to do more mischief than a dousen whirlwinds, keep thy hands in thy muff, and warm the idle worms in thy fingers ends: will ye be doing still? will no entreating serve ye? no lawfull warning? I must remove and leave your Ladyship; Nay never hope to stay me, for I will run, from that Smooth, Smiling, Witching, Cousening, Tempting, Damning face of thine, as far as I can find any land, where I will put my self into a daily course of Curses for thee, and all thy Familie.

Oria. I had rather sing at doors for bread, than sing to this fellow, but for hate: if this should be told in the Court, that I begin to woe Lords, what a troop of the untrust nobilitie should I have at my lodging to morrow morning.

Gond. Have you done your wassayl? 'tis a handsome drowsie dittie I'll assure ye, now I had as leave hear a Cat cry, when her tail is cut off, as hear these lamentations, these lowsie love-layes, these bewailements: you think you have caught me Lady, you think I melt now, like a dish of May butter, and run, all into brine, and passion, yes, yes, I 'm taken, look how I cross my arms, look pale, and dwyndle, and wo'd cry, but for spoyling my face; we must part, nay we'll avoyd all Ceremony, no kissing Lady, I desire to know your Ladiship no more; death of my soul the Duke!

I doe confess I was in company with that pleasing peece of frailtie, that we call woman; I doe confess after a long and tedious seige, I yielded.

Duke. Forward.

Gond. Faith my Lord to come quickly to the point, the woman you saw with me is a whore; An arrant whore.

Duke. Was she not Count Valores Sister?

Gond. Yes, that Count Valores Sister is naught.

Duk. Thou dar'st not say so.

Gond. Not if it be distasting to your Lordship, but give me freedome, and I dare maintain, she ha's imbrac'd this body, and grown to it as close, as the hot youthfull vine to the elme.

Duk. Twice have I seen her with thee, twice my thoughts were prompted by mine eye, to hold thy strictness false and imposterous: Is this your mewing up, your strict retirement, your bitterness and gaul against that sex? Have I not heard thee say, thou wouldst sooner meet the Basilisks dead doing eye, than meet a woman for an object? Look it be true you tell me, or by our countries Saint your head goes off: if thou prove a whore, no womans face shall ever move me more. [Exeunt. Manet Gondarino.

Gond. So, so, 'tis as 't should be, are women grown so mankind? Must they be wooing, I have a plot shall blow her up, she flyes, she mounts; I'll teach her Ladyship to dare my fury, I will be known, and fear'd, and more truely hated of women than an Eunuch.

She's here again, good gaul be patient, for I must dissemble.

Orian. Now my cold, frosty Lord, my woman-Hater, you that have sworn an everlasting hate to all our sex: by my troth good Lord, and as I'm yet a maid, my thought 'twas excellent sport to hear your honor swear out an Alphabet, chafe nobly like a Generall, kick like a resty Jade, and make ill faces: Did your good Honor think I was in love? where did I first begin to take that heat? From those two radiant eyes, that piercing sight? oh they were lovely, if the balls stood right; and there's a leg made out of a dainty staff. Where, the Gods be thanked, there is calf enough.

Oriana. Alass, ha's it been prick'd at the heart? is the stomach come down? will it rail no more at women, and call 'em Divells, she Cats, and Goblins?

Gond. He that shall marry thee, had better spend the poor remainder of his days in a dung-barge, for two pence a week, and find him self.

Down again Spleen, I prethee down again, shall I find favour Lady? shall at length my true unfeigned penitence get pardon for my harsh unseasoned follies? I'm no more an Atheist, no I doe acknowledge, that dread powerfull Deity, and his all quic'kning heats burn in my breast: oh be not as I was, hard unrelenting; but as I [am], be partner of my fires.

Oria. Sure we [shall] have store of Larks, the Skies will not hold up long, I should have look'd as soon for Frost in the dog days, or another Inundation, as hop'd this strange conversion above miracle: let me look upon your Lordship; is your name Gondarino? are you Millains Generall, that great Bugbear bloody-bones, at whose name all women, from the Lady to the Landress, shake like a cold fit?

Gond. Good patience help me, this Fever will inrage my blood again: Madam I'm that man; I'm even he that once did owe unreconcil'd hate to you, and all that bear the name of woman: I'm the man that wrong'd your Honor to the Duke: [I am hee] that said you were unchast, and prostitute, yet I'm he that dare deny all this.

Orian. Your big Nobility is very merry.

Ori. Lord, thou hast wrong'd my innocence, but thy confession hath gain'd thee faith.

Gond. Else let me lose the hopes my soul aspires to: I will be a scourge to all females in my life, and after my death, the name of Gondarino shall be terrible to the mighty women of the earth; They shall shake at my name, and at the sound of it, their knees shall knock together; And they shall run into Nunneries, for they and I are beyond all hope irreconcilable: for if I could endure an ear with a hole in't, or a pleated lock, or a bare headed Coachman, that sits like a sign where great Lad[ie]s are to be sold within; agreement betwixt us, were not to be dispaired of; if I could be but brought to endure to see women, I would have them come all once a week, and kiss me, [where] Witches doe the devill, in token of homage: I must not live here; I will to the Court, and there pursue my plot; when it hath took, women shall stand in awe, but of my look. [Exit.

1 Intel. There take your standing, be close and vigilant, here will I set my self, and let him look to his language, a shall know the Duke has more ears in Court than two.

2 Int. I'll quote him to a tittle, let him speak wisely, and plainly, and as hidden as a can, or I shall crush him, a shall not scape charracters, though a speak Babel, I shall crush him: we have a Fortune by this service hanging over us, that within this year or two, I hope we shall be called to be examiners, wear politick gowns garded with copper lace, making great faces full of fear and office, our labors may deserve this.

1 Int. I hope it shall: why has not many men been raised from this worming trade, first to gain good access to great men, then to have commissions out for search, and lastly, to be worthily nam'd at a great Arraignment: yes, and why not we? They that endeavor well deserve their Fee. Close, close, a comes: mark well, and all goes well.

2 Int. There, there's a notable peece of treason, greater than the Duke, mark that.

Count. But how, or where, or when this shall be compas'd, is yet out of my reach.

Count. I have it, 'tis now infus'd, be comforted.

Laz. Can there be that little hope yet left in nature? shall I once more erect up Trophies? Shall I enjoy the sight of my dear Saint, and bless my pallate with the best of creatures, ah good my Lord, by whom I breathe again, shall I receive this Being?

Count. Sir I have found by certain calculation, and setled revolution of the stars, the Fish is sent by the Lord Gondarino to his Mercer, now 'tis a growing hope to know where 'tis.

Laz. O 'tis far above the good of women, the Pathick cannot yield more pleasing titilation.

Count. But how to compass it, search, cast about, and bang your brai[n]s, Lazarello, thou art too dull and heavy to deserve a blessing.

Laz. My Lord, I will not be idle; now Lazarello, think, think, think.

1 Inte. There's another point in's plot, [corrupt] with money; to betray: sure 'tis some Fort a means: mark, have a care.

Laz. And 'twere the bare vinegar 'tis eaten with, it would in some sort satisfie nature: but might I once attain the dish it self, though I cut out my means through sword[s] and fire, through poison, through any thing that may make good my hopes.

2 Int. Thanks to the gods, and our officiousness, the plots discover'd, fire, steel, and poison, burn the Palace, kill the Duke and poison his privie Councell.

Count. To the mercers, let me see: how, if before we can attain the means, to make up our acquaintance, the fish be eaten?

Laz. If it be eaten, here he stands, that is the most dejected, most unfortunate, miserable, accursed, forsaken slave this Province yields: I will not sure outlive it, no I will dye bravely, and like a Roman; and after death, amidst the Elizian shades, I'll meet my love again.

1 In. I will dye bravely, like a Roman: have a care, mark that, when he hath done all, he will kill himself.

Count. Will nothing ease your appetite but this?

Count. Sir you shall work me as you please.

Laza. Let it be suddenly, I doe beseech your Lordship, 'tis now upon the point of dinner time.

Count. I am all yours. [Exeunt Lazarello and Count.

1 In. Come let us confer, Imprimis he saith, like a blasphemous villain, he's greater than the Duke, this peppers him, and there were nothing else.

2 In. Then he was naming plots; did you not hear?

1 In. Yes but he fell from that unto discovery, to corrupt by money, and so attain.

2 In. I, I, he meant some Fort, or Cyttadell the Duke hath, his very face betraid his meaning, O he is [a] very subtile and a dangerous knave, but if he deal a Gods name, we shall worm him.

1 In. But now comes the Stroak, the fatall blow, Fire, Sword and Poyson, O Canibal, thou bloody Canibal.

2 In. What had become of this poor state, had [not we] been?

1 In. Faith it had lyen buried in his own ashes; had not a greater hand been in't.

2 In. But note the rascalls resolution, after th'acts done, because he wo'd avoid all fear of torture, and cousen the Law, he wo'd kill himself; was there ever the like danger brought to light in this age? sure we shall merit much, we shall be able to keep two men a peece, and a two handsword between us, we will live in favour of the State, betray our ten or twelve treasons a week, and the people shall fear us: come, to the Lord Lucio, the Sun shall not goe down till he be hang'd. [Exeunt.

Mer. Look to my shop, and if there come ever a Scholar in black, let him speak with me; we that are shopkeepers in good trade, are so pester'd, that we can scarce pick out an hour for our mornings meditation: and howsoever we are all accounted dull, and common jesting stocks for your gallants; There are some of us doe not deserve it: for, for my own part, I doe begin to be given to my book, I love a scholar with my heart, for questionless there are merveilous things to be done by Art: why Sir, some of them will tell you what is become of horses, and silver spoons, and will make wenches dance naked to their beds: I am yet unmarried, and because some of our neighbours are said to be Cuckolds, I will never [marrie] without the consent of some of these scholars, that know what will come of it.

Pan. Are you busie Sir?

Mer. Never to you Sir, nor to any of your coat. Sir is there any thing to be done by Art, concerning the great heir we talk'd on?

Pan. Will she, nill she: she shall come running into my house at the farther corner, in Sa. Marks street, betwixt three and four.

Mer. Betwixt three and four? she's brave in cloaths, is she not?

Pan. O rich! rich! where should I get cloaths to dress her in? Help me invention: Sir, that her running through the street may be less noted, my Art more shown, and your fear to speak with her less, she shall come in a white wastcoat, And—

Mer. What shall she?

Pan. And perhaps torn stockings, she hath left her old wont else.

Pren. Sir my Lord Gond. hath sent you a rare fish head.

Mer. It comes right, all things sute right with me since I began to love scholars, you shall have it home with you against she come: carrie it to this Gentleman's house.

Pan. The fair white house at the farther corner at S. Marks street, make haste, I must leave you too Sir, I have two hours to study; buy a new Accedence, and ply your book, and you shall want nothing that all the scholars in the Town can doe for you. [Exit Pander.

Mer. Heaven prosper both our studies, what a dull slave was I before I fell in love with this learning! not worthy to tread upon the earth, & what fresh hopes it hath put in to me! I doe hope within this twelve-month to be able by Art to serve the Court with silks, and not undoe my self; to trust Knights, and yet get in my money again; to keep my wife brave, and yet she keep no body else so.

Your Lordship is most honourably welcome in regard of your Nobility; but most especialy in regard of your scholarship: did your Lordship come openly?

Count. Sir this cloak keeps me private, besides no man will suspect me to be in the company of this Gentleman, with whom, I will desire you to be acquainted, he may prove a good customer to you.

Laza. For plain silks and velvets.

Mer. Are you scholasticall?

Laza. Something addicted to the Muses.

Count. I hope they will not dispute.

Mer. You have no skill in the black Art.

Pren. Sir yonder's a Gentleman enquires hastily for Count Valore.

Count. For me? what is he?

Pren. One of your followers my Lord I think.

Count. Let him come in.

Mer. Shall I talk with you in private Sir?

Count. Count, come to the Court your business calls you thither, I will goe, farewell Sir, I will see your silks some other time: Farewell Lazarillo.

Mer. Will not your Lordship take a piece of Beef with me?

Count. Sir I have greater business than eating; I will leave this Gentleman with you. [Exeunt Count. & Mes.

Laza. No, no, no, no: now doe I feel that strain'd strugling within me, that I think I could prophesie.

Mer. The Gentleman is meditating.

Laza. Hunger, valour, love, ambition are alike pleasing, and let our Philosophers say what they will, are one kind of heat, only hunger is the safest: ambition is apt to fall; love and valour are not free from dangers; only hunger, begotten of some old limber Courtier, in pan'de hose, and nurs'd by an Attourneys wife; now so thriven, that he need not fear to be of the great Turks guard: is so free from all quarrels and dangers, so full of hopes, joyes, and ticklings, that my life is not so dear to me as his acquaintance.

Merc. Sir I was hearkning to you.

Laz. I will hear nothing, I will break my knife, the Ensign of my former happy state, knock out my teeth, have them hung at a Barbers, and enter into Religion.

Boy. Why Sir, I think I know whither it is gone.

Laza. See the rashness of man in his nature, whither? I do unsay all that I have said, go on, go on: Boy, I humble my self and follow thee; Farewell Sir.

Mer. Not so Sir, you shall take a piece of Beef with me.

Laz. I cannot stay.

Mer. By my fay but you shall Sir, in regard of your love to learning, and your [s]kill in the black Art.

Laz. I do hate learning, and I have no skill in [the] black Art, I would I had.

Mer. Why your desire is sufficient to me, you shall stay.

Laz. The most horrible and detested curses that can be imagined, light upon all the professors of that Art; may they be drunk, and when they goe to conjure, and reel in the Circle, may the spirits by them rais'd, tear 'em in pieces, and hang their quarters on old broken walls and Steeple tops.

Mer. This speech of yours, shews you to have some skill in the Science, wherefore in civilitie, I may not suffer you to depart empty.

Laz. My stomach is up, I cannot endure it, I will fight in this quarrell as soon as for my Prince.

Count. Is the Duke private?

Arr. He is alone, but I think your Lordship may enter.

Gond. Who's with the Duke?

Arr. The Count is new gone in; but the Duke will come forth, before you can be weary of waiting.

Gond. I will attend him here.

Arr. I must wait without the door. [Exit Arrigo.

Gond. Doth he hope to clear his Sister? she will come no more to my house, to laugh at me: I have sent her to a habitation, where when she shall be seen, it will set a gloss upon her name; yet upon my soul I have bestow'd her amongst the purest hearted creatures of her sex, and the freest from dissimulation; for their deeds are all alike, only they dare speak, what the rest think: the women of this age, if there be any degrees of comparison amongst their sex, are worse than those of former times; for I have read of women, of that truth, spirit, and constancy, that were they now living, I should endure to see them: but I fear the writers of the time belied them, for how familiar a thing is it with the Poets of our age, to extoll their whores, which they call Mistresses, with heavenly praises! but I thank their furies, and their craz'd brains, beyond belief: nay, how many that would fain seem serious, have dedicated grave Works to Ladies, toothless, hollow-ey'd, their hair shedding, purple fac'd, their nails apparently coming off; and the bridges of their noses broken down, and have call'd them the choice handy works of nature, the patterns of perfection, and the wonderment of Women. Our Women begin to swarm like Bees [in] Summer: as I came hither, there was no pair of stairs, no entry, no lobby, but was pestred with them: methinks there might be some course taken to destroy them.

Arri. I do accept your money, walk here, and when the Duke comes out, you shall have fit opportunity to deliver your petition to him.

Gentlew. I thank you heartily, I pray you who's he that walks there?

Ar. A Lord, and a Soldier, one in good favour with the Duke; if you could get him to deliver your Petition—

Gentlew. What do you say, Sir?

Ar. If you could get him to deliver your petition for you, or to second you, 'twere sure.

Gentlew. I hope I shall live to requite your kindness.

Ar. You have already. [Exit Arri.

Gentlew. May it please your Lordship—

Gond. No, no.

Gentlew. To consider the estate—

Gond. No.

Gentlew. Of a poor oppressed countrey Gentlewoman.

Gond. No, it doth not please my Lordship.

Gentlew. First and formost, I have had great injury, then I have been brought up to the Town three times.

Gond. A pox on him, that brought thee to the Town.

Gentlew. I thank your good Lordship heartily; though I cannot hear well, I know it grieves you; and here we have been delaid, and sent down again, and fetch'd up again, and sent down again, to my great charge: and now at last they have fetch'd me up, and five of my daughters—

Gond. Enough to damn five worlds.

Gentlew. Handsome young women, though I say it, they are all without, if it please your Lordship I'll call them in.

Gond. Five Women! how many of my sences should I have left me then? call in five Devils first.

Gentlew. I see your Lordship does believe, that they are without, and I perceive you are much mov'd at our injury: here's a paper will tell you more.

Gond. Away.

Gentlew. It may be you had rather hear me tell it viva voce, as they say.

Gond. Oh no, no, no, no, I have heard it before.

Gentlew. Then you have heard of enough injury, for a poor Gentlewoman to receive.

Gond. Never, never, but that it troubles my conscience, to wish any good to these women; I could afford them to be valiant, and able, that it might be no disgrace for a Soldier to beat them.

Gentlew. I hope your Lordship will deliver my petition to his grace, and you may tell him withal—

Gond. What? I will deliver any thing against my self, to be rid on thee.

Gentlew. That yesterday about three a clock in the after noon, I met my adversary.

Gond. Give me thy paper, he can abide no long tales.

Gentlew. 'Tis very short my Lord, and I demanding of him—

Gond. I'll tell him that shall serve thy turn.

Gentlew. How?

Gond. I'll tell him that shall serve thy turn, begone: man never doth remember how great his offences are, till he do meet with one of you, that plagues him for them: why should Women [only] above all other creatures that were created for the benefit of man, have the use of speech? or why should any deed of theirs, done by their fleshly appetites, be disgraceful to their owners? nay, why should not an act done by any beast I keep, against my consent, disparage me as much as that of theirs?

Gentlew. Here's some few Angels for your Lordship.

Gond. Again? yet more torments?

Gentlew. Indeed you shall have them.

Gond. Keep off.

Gentlew. A small gratuity for your kindness.

Gond. Hold away.

Gentlew. Why then I thank your Lordship, I'll gather them up again, and I'll be sworn, it is the first money that was refus'd since I came to the Court.

Gond. What can she devise to say more?

Gentlew. Truly I would have willingly parted with them to your Lordship.

Gond. I believe it, I believe it.

Gentlew. But since it is thus—

Gond. More yet.

Gentlew. I will attend without, and expect an answer.

Gond. Do, begone, and thou shalt expect, and have any thing, thou shalt have thy answer from him; and he were best to give thee a good one at first, for thy deaf importunity, will conquer him too, in the end.

Gentlew. God bless your Lordship, and all tha[t] favour a poor distressed countrey Gentlewoman. [Exit Gentlew.

Gond. All the diseases of man light upon them that doe, and upon me when I do. A week of such days, would either make me stark mad or tame me: yonder other woman that I have sure enough, shall answer for thy sins: dare they incense me still, I will make them fear as much to be ignorant of me and my moods, as men are to be ignorant of the law they live under. Who's there? My bloud grew cold, I began to fear my Suiters return; 'tis the Duke.

Gond. Fortune befriended me against my Will, with this good old countrey gentlewoman; I beseech your grace, to view favourably the petition of a wronged Gentlewoman.

Duke. What Gondarino, are you become a petitioner for your enemies?

Gond. My Lord, they are no enemies of mine, I confess, the better to [cover] my deeds, which sometimes were loose enough, I pretended it, as it is wisdom, to keep close our incontinence, but since you have discover'd me, I will no more put on that vizard, but will as freely open all my thoughts to you, as to my Confessor.

Duke. What say you to this?

Duke. I will read this at better leisure: [Gondarino, where is the Lady?]

Count. At his house.

Gond. No, she is departed thence.

Count. Whither?

Pan. Here hope I to meet my Citizen, and [here] hopes he to meet his [Scholar]; I am sure I am grave enough, to his eyes, and knave enough to deceive him: I am believ'd to conjure, raise storms, and devils, by whose power I can do wonders; let him believe so still, belief hurts no man; I have an honest black cloak, for my knavery, and a general pardon for his foolery, from this present day, till the day of his breaking. Is't not a misery, and the greatest of our age, to see a handsome, young, fair enough, and well mounted wench, humble her self, in an old stammel petticoat, standing possest of no more fringe, than the street can allow her: her upper parts so poor and wanting, that ye may see her bones through her bodies: shooes she would have, if [her] Captain were come over, and is content the while to devote her self to antient slippers. These premisses well considered, Gentlemen, will move, they make me melt I promise ye, they stirr me much: and wer't not for my smooth, soft, silken Citizen, I would quit this transitory Trade, get me an everlasting Robe, sear up my conscience, and turn Serjeant. But here he comes, is mine as good as prize: Sir Pandarus be my speed, ye are most fitly met Sir.

Mer. And you as well encount'red, what of this heir? hath your Books been propitious?

Pan. Sir, 'tis done, she's come, she's in my house, make your self apt for Courtship, stroke up your stockings, loose not an inch of your legs goodness; I am sure ye wear socks.

Mer. There your Books fail ye Sir, in truth I wear no socks.

Pand. I would you had, Sir, it were the sweeter grace for your legs; get on your Gloves, are they perfum'd?

Mer. A pretty wash I'll assure you.

Pand. 'Twill serve: your offers must be full of bounty, Velvets to furnish a Gown, Silks for Peticoats and Foreparts, Shag for lining; forget not some pretty Jewel to fasten, after some little compliment: if she deny this courtesie, double your bounties, be not wanting in abundance, fulness of gifts, link'd with a pleasing tongue, will win an Anchorite. Sir, ye are my friend, and friend to all that professes good Letters; I must not use this office else, it fits not for a Scholar, and a Gentleman: those stockin[g]s are of Naples, they are silk?

Mer. Ye are again beside your Text, Sir, they're of the best of Wooll, and [they cleeped] Jersey.

Pan. Sure they are very dear.

Mer. Nine shillings, by my love to learning.

Pan. Pardon my judgement, we Scholars use no other objects, but our Books.

Mer. There is one thing entomb'd in that grave breast, that makes me equally admire it with your Scholarship.

Pand. Sir; but that in modesty I am bound not to affect mine own commendation, I would enquire it of you.

Merc. Sure you are very honest; and yet ye have a kind of modest fear to shew it: do not deny it, that face of yours is a worthy, learned modest face.

Pand. Sir, I can blush.

Mer. Virtue and grace are always pair'd together: but I will leave to stirr your bloud Sir, and now to our business.

Pand. Forget not my instructions.

Mer. I apprehend ye Sir, I will gather my self together with my best phrases, and so I shall discourse in some sort takingly.

Pand. This was well worded Sir, and like a Scholar.

Pand. What do you intend Sir?

Mer. Marry I will then begger all your bawdy Writers, and undertake, at the peril of my own invention, all Pageants, Poesies for Chimneys, Speeches for the Dukes entertainment, whensoever and whatsoever; nay I will build, at mine own charge, an Hospital, to which shall retire all diseased opinions, all broken Poets, all Prose-men that are fall'n from small sence, to meer Letters; and it shall be lawful for a Lawyer, if he be a civil man, though he have undone others and himself by the language, to retire to this poor life, and learn to be honest.

Pand. Sir, ye are very good, and very charitable: ye are a true pattern for the City Sir.

Merc. Sir, I doe know sufficiently, their Shop-books cannot save them, there is a farther end—

Pand. Oh Sir, much may be done by manuscript.

Mer. I do confess it Sir, provided still they be Canonical, and [have] some worthy hands set to 'um for probation: but we forget our selves.

Pand. Sir, enter when you please, and all good language tip your tongue.

Merc. All that love Learning pray for my good success.

Laz. [Boy, whereabouts] are we?

Boy. Sir, by all tokens this is the house, bawdy I am sure, [by] the broken windows, the Fish head is within; if ye dare venture, here you may surprize it.

Laz. The misery of man may fitly be compar'd to a Didapper, who when she is under water, past our sight, and indeed can seem no more to us, rises again; shakes but her self, and is the same she was, so is it still with transitory man, this day: oh but an hour since, and I was mighty, mighty in knowledge, mighty in my hopes, mighty in blessed means, and was so truly happy, that I durst have said, live Lazarello, and be satisfied: but now—

Boy. Sir, ye are yet afloat, and may recover, be not your own wreck, here lies the harbor, goe in and ride at ease.

Laz. Boy, I am receiv'd to be a Gentleman, a Courtier, and a man of action, modest, and wise, and be it spoken with thy reverence, Child, abounding virtuous; and wouldst thou have a man of these choise habits, covet the cover of a bawdy-house? yet if I goe not in, I am but—

Boy. But what Sir?

Laz. Dust boy, but dust, and my soul unsatisfied shall haunt the keepers of my blessed Saint, and I will appear.

Boy. An ass to all men; Sir, these are no means to stay your appetite, you must resolve to enter.

Laz. Were not the house subject to Martial Law—

Boy. If that be all, Sir, ye may enter, for ye can know nothing here that the Court is ignorant of, only the more eyes shall look upon you, for there they wink one at anothers faults.

Laz. If I doe not.

Boy. Then ye must beat fairly back again, fall to your physical mess of porridge, and the twice sack'd carkass of a Capon: Fortune may favour you so much, to send the bread to it: but it's a mee[re] venture, and money may be put out upon it.

Laz. I will go in and live; pretend some love to the Gentlewoman, screw my self in affection, and so be satisfied.

Pan. This Fly is caught, is mash'd already, I will suck him, and lay him by.

Boy. Muffle your self in your cloak by any means, 'tis a receiv'd thing among gallants, to walk to their leachery, as though they had the rheum, 'twas well you brought not your horse.

Laz. Why Boy?

Boy. Faith Sir, 'tis the fashion of our Gentry, to have their horses wait at door like men, while the beasts their Masters, are within at rack and manger, 'twould have discover'd much.

Laz. I will lay by these habits, forms, and grave respects of what I am, and be my self; only my appetite, my fire, my soul, my being, my dear appetite shall go along with me, arm'd with whose strength, I fearless will attempt the greatest danger dare oppose my fury: I am resolv'd where ever that thou art, most sacred dish, hid from unhallow'd eyes, to find thee out.

Boy. Sir, you may save this long voyage, and take a shorter cut: you have forgot your self, the fish head's here, your own imaginations have made you mad.

Laz. Term it a jealous fury, good my boy.

Boy. Faith Sir term it what you will, you must use other terms [ere] you can get it.

Julia. What news my sweet rogue, my dear sins-broker, what? good news?

Jul. Is he gallant?

Pan. He shines not very gloriously, nor does he wear one skin perfum'd to keep the other sweet; his coat is not in Or, nor does the world run yet on wheels with him; he's rich enough, and has a small thing follows him, like to a boat tyed to a tall ships tail: give him entertainment, be light, and flashing like a Meteor, hug him about the neck, give him a kiss, and lisping cry, good Sir; and he's thine own, as fast as he were tied to thine arms by Indenture[s].

Jul. I dare doe more than this, if he be o'th' true Court cut; I'll take him out a lesson worth the Learning: but we are but their Apes; what's he worth?

Pan. Be he rich, or poor; if he will take thee with him, thou maist use thy trade [free] from Constables, and Marshals: who hath been here since I went out?

Jul. There is a Gentlewoman sent hither by a Lord, she's a piece of dainty stuff my rogue, smooth and soft, as new Sattin; she was never gumm'd yet boy, nor fretted.

Pan. Where lies she?

Jul. She lies above, towards the street, not to be spoke with, but by [the] Lord that sent her, or some from him, we have in charge from his servants.

Pan. Peace, he comes out again upon discovery; up with all your Canvas, hale him in; and when thou hast done, clap him aboard bravely, my valiant Pinnace.

Jul. Begone, I shall doe reason with him.

Laz. Are you the special beauty of this house?

Jul. Sir, you have given it a more special regard by your good language, than these black brows can merit.

Laz. Lady, you are fair.

Jul. Fair Sir? I thank ye; all the poor means I have left to be thought grateful, is but a kiss, and ye shall have it Sir.

Laz. Ye have a very moving lip.

Jul. Prove it again Sir, it may be your sense was set too high, and so over-wrought it self.

Laz. 'Tis still the same: how far may ye hold the time to be spent Lady?

Jul. Four a clock, Sir.

Laz. I have not eat to day.

Jul. You will have the better stomach to your supper; in the mean time I'll feed you with delight.

Laz. 'Tis not so good upon an empty stomach: if it might be without the trouble of your house, I would eat?

Jul. Sir, we can have a Capon ready.

Laz. The day?

Jul. 'Tis Friday, Sir.

Laz. I do eat little flesh upon these days.

Jul. Come sweet, ye shall not think on meat; I'll drown it with a better appetite.

Laz. I feel it work more strangely, I must eat.

Jul. 'Tis now too late to send; I say ye shall not think on meat: if ye do, by this kiss I'll be angry.

Laz. I could be far more sprightful, had I eaten, and more lasting.

Jul. What will you have Sir? name but the Fish, my Maid shall bring it, if it may be got.

Laz. Methinks your house should not be so unfurnish'd, as not to have some pretty modicum.

Jul. It is [so] now: but you'd ye stay till supper?

Laz. Sure I have offended highly, and much, and my [infl]ictions makes it manifest, I will retire henceforth, and keep my chamber, live privately, and dye forgotten.

Jul. Sir, I must crave your pardon, I had forgot my self; I have a dish of meat within, and it is fish; I think this Dukedom holds not a daintier: 'tis an Umbranoes head.

Laz. [Lady, this] kiss is yours, and this.

Jul. Hoe! within there! cover the board, and set the Fish head on it.

Laz. Now am I so truly happy, so much above all fate and fortune, that I should despise that man, durst say, remember Lazarello, thou art mortal.

2 Int. This is the villain, lay [hands] on him.

Laz. Gentlemen, why am I thus intreated? what is the nature of my crime?

2 Int. Sir, though you have carried it a great while privately, and (as you think) well; yet we have seen you Sir, and we do know thee Lazarello, for a Traitor.

Laz. The gods defend our Duke.

2 Int. Amen, Sir, Sir, this cannot save that stiff neck from the halter.

Jul. Gentlemen, I am glad you have discover'd him, he should not have eaten under my roof for twenty pounds; and surely I did not like him, when he call'd for Fish. Laz. My friends, will ye let me have that little favour—

1 Int. Sir, ye shall have Law, and nothing else.

Laz. To let me stay the eating of a bit or two, for I protest I am yet fasting.

Jul. I'll have no Traitor come within my house.

Laz. Now could I wish my self I had been a Traitor, I have strength enough for to endure it, had I but patience: Man thou art but grass, thou art a bubble, and thou must perish.

2 Int. Away Sir.

Laz. As thou hast hope of man, stay but this dish this two hours, I doubt not but I shall be discharged: by this light I will marry thee.

Jul. You shall marry me first then.

Laz. I do contract my self unto thee now, before these Gentlemen.

Jul. I'll preserve it till you be hang'd or quitted.

Laz. Thanks, thanks.

2 Int. Away, away, you shall thank her at the gallows.

Laz. Adieu, adieu. [Exeunt Laz. 2 Int. and Guard.

Jul. If he live I'll have him, if he be hang'd, there's no loss in it. [Exit.

Orian. Hast thou provided one to bear my Letter to my brother?

Wait. I have enquir'd, but they of the house will suffer no Letter nor message to be carried from you, but such as the Lord Gondarino shall be acquainted with: truly Madam I suspect the house to be no better than it should be.

Ori. What dost thou doubt?

Wait. Faith I am loth to tell it, Madam.

Ori. Out with it, 'tis not true modesty to fear to speak that thou dost think.

Wait. I think it [be] one of these [same] Bawdy houses.

Ori. 'Tis no matter wench, we are warm in it, keep thou thy mind pure, and upon my word, that name will do thee no hurt: I cannot force my self yet to fear any thing; when I do get out, I'll [have] another encounter with my Woman-Hater. Here will I sit. I may get sight of some of my friends, it must needs be a comfort to them to see me here.

Gond. Are we all sufficiently disguis'd? for this house where she attends me, is not to be visited in our own shapes.

Duke. We are not our selves.

Arr. I know the house to be sinful enough, yet I have been heretofore, and durst now, but for discovering of you, appear here in my own likeness.

Duke. Where's Lucio?

Arri. My Lord, he said the affairs of the Common-wealth would not suffer him to attend always.

Duke. Some great ones questionless that he will handle.

Count. Come, let us enter.

Gond. See how Fortune strives to revenge my quarrel upon these women, she's in the window, were it not to undoe her, I should not look upon her.

Duke. Lead us Gondarino.

Count. This will not down with me, I dare not trust this fellow.

Duke. Leave her here, that only shall be her punishment, never to be fetcht from hence; but let her use her trade to get her living.

Count. Stay good my Lord, I do believe all this, as great men as I, have had known whores to their Sisters, and have laught at it: I would fain hear how she talks, since she grew thus light: will your grace make him shew himself to her, as if he were now come to satisfie her longing? whilst we, unseen of her, over-hear her wantonness, let's make our best of it now, we shall have good mirth.

Duke. Do it Gondarino.

Gond. I must; fortune assist me but this once.

Count. Here we shall stand unseen, and near enough.

Gond. Madam, Oriana.

Oria. Who's that? oh! my Lord?

Gond. Shall I come up?

Oria. Oh you are merry, shall I come down?

Gond. It is better there.

Oria. What is the confession of the lye you made to the Duke, which I scarce believe, yet you had impudence enough to do? did it not gain you so much faith with me, as that I was willing to be at your Lordships bestowing, till you had recover'd my credit, and confest your self a lyar, as you pretended to do? I confess I began to fear you, and desir'd to be out of your house, but your own followers forc'd me hither.

Gond. 'Tis well suspected, dissemble still, for there are some may hear us.

Oria. More tricks yet, my Lord? what house this is I know not, I only know my self: it were a great conquest, if you could fasten a scandal upon me: 'faith my Lord, give me leave to write to my brother?

Duke. Come down.

Count. Come down.

Arr. If it please your Grace, there's a back door.

Count. Come meet us there then.

Duke. It seems you are acquainted with the house.

Arr. I have been in it.

Gond. She saw you and dissembled.

Serv. My Lord?

Luc. Secretary, fetch the Gown I use to read Petitions in, and the Standish I answer French Letters with: and call in the Gentleman that attends: [Exit Serv.

Sir, but that I do presume upon your secresie, I would not have appear'd to you thus ignorantly attir'd without a tooth-pick in a ribbond, or a Ring in my bandstring[s].

Gent. Your Lordship sen[t] for me?

Luc. I did: Sir, your long practice in the State, under a great man, hath led you to much experience.

Gent. My Lord.

Luc. Suffer not your modesty to excuse it: in short, and in private, I desire your direction, I take my study already to be furnisht after a grave and wise method.

Gent. What will this Lord do?

Luc. My Book-strings are sutable, and of a reaching colour.

Gent. How's this?

Luc. My Standish of Wood, strange and sweet, and my fore-flap hangs in the right place, and as near Machiavel's, as can be gathered by tradition.

Gent. Are there such men as will say nothing abroad, and play the fools in their Lodgings? this Lord must be followed: and hath your Lordship some new made words to scatter in your speeches in publick, to gain note, that the hearers may carry them away, and dispute of them at dinner?

Luc. I have Sir: and besides, my several Gowns and Caps agreeable to my several occasions.

Gent. 'Tis well, and you have learn'd to write a bad hand, that the Readers may take pains for it.

Luc. Yes Sir, and I give out I have the palsie.

Gent. Good, 'twere better though, if you had it: your Lordship hath a Secretary, that can write fair, when you purpose to be understood.

Luc. 'Faith Sir I have one, there he stands, he hath been my Secretary these seven years, but he hath forgotten to write.

Gen. If he can make a writing face, it is not amiss, so he keep his own counsel: your Lordship hath no hope of the Gout?

Luc. Uh, little Sir, since the pain in my right foot left me.

Gent. 'Twill be some scandal to your wisdom, though I see your Lordship knows enough in publick business.

Luc. I am not imploy'd (though to my desert) in occasions forreign, nor frequented for matters domestical.

Gent. Not frequented? what course takes your Lordship?

Luc. The readiest way, my door stands wi[de], my Secretary knows I am not denied to any.

Gent. In this (give me leave) your Lordship is out of the way: make a back door to let out Intelligencers; seem to be ever busie, and put your door under keepers, and you shall have a troop of Clients sweating to come at you.

Luc. I have a back door already, I will henceforth be busie, Secretary, run and keep the door. [Exit Secretary.

Gent. This will fetch 'um?

Luc. I hope so.

Secr. My Lord, there are some require access to you, about weighty affairs of State.

Luc. Already?

Gent. I told you so.

Luc. How weighty is the business?

Secr. Treason my Lord.

Luc. Sir, my debts to you for this are great.

Gent. I will leave your Lordship now.

Luc. Sir, my death must be suddain, if I requite you not: at the back door good Sir.

Gent. I will be your Lordships Intelligencer for once. [Exit Gentleman.

Secr. My Lord.

Luc. Let 'em in, and say I am at my study.

1 Int. Where is your Lord?

Secr. At his study, but he will have you brought in.

Laza. Why Gentlemen, what will you charge me withal?

2 Int. Treason, horrible treason, I hope to have the leading of thee to prison, and prick thee on i'th' arse with a Halbert: to have him hang'd that salutes thee, and call all those in question that spit not upon thee.

Laz. My thred is spun, yet might I but call for this dish of meat at the gallows, instead of a Psalm, it were to be endur'd: the Curtain opens, now my end draws on.

Luc. Gentlemen, I am not empty of weighty occasions at this time; I pray you your business.

1 Int. My Lord, I think we have discover'd one of the most bloudy Traitors, that ever the world held.

Luc. Signior Lazarillo, I am glad ye are one of this discovery, give me your hand.

2 Int. My Lord, that is the Traitor.

Luc. Keep him off, I would not for my whole estate have touchd him.

Laz. My Lord.

Luc. Peace Sir, I know the devil is at your tongue's end, to furnish you with speeches: what are the particulars you charge him with?

Both Int. We [have] conferr'd our Notes, and have extracted that, which we will justifie upon our oaths.

Luc. That he would be greater than the Duke, that he had cast plots for this, and meant to corrupt some to betray him, that he would burn the City, kill the Duke, and poison the Privy Council; and lastly kill himself. Though thou deserv'st justly to be hang'd with silence, yet I allow thee to speak, be short.

Luc. Peace, such hath ever been the clemency of my gracious Master the Duke, in all his proceedings, that I had thought, and thought I had thought rightly; that malice would long e'r this have hid her self in her Den, a[n]d have turn'd her own sting against her own heart: but I well [now] perceive, that so froward is the disposition of a deprav'd nature, that it doth not only seek revenge, where it hath receiv'd injury, but many times thirst after their destruction, where it hath met with benefits.

Laz. But my good Lord—

2 Int. Let's gagg him.

Luc. Peace again, but many times thirst after destruction, where it hath met with benefits; there I left: Such, and no better are the business that we have now in hand.

1 Int. He's excellently spoken.

[2] Int. He'll wind a Traitor I warrant him.

Luc. But surely methinks, setting aside the touch of conscience, and all [other] inward convulsions.

2 Int. He'll be hang'd, I know by that word.

Laz. Your Lordship may consider—

Luc. Hold thy peace: thou canst not answer this speech: no Traitor can answer it: but because you cannot answer this speech, I take it you have confess'd the Treason.

1 Int. The Count Valore was the first that discover'd him, and can witness it; but he left the matter to your Lordship's grave consideration.

Luc. I thank his Lordship, carry him away speedily to the Duke.

Luc. Away with him, I'll follow you, look you pinion him, and take his money from him, lest he swallow a shilling, and kill himself.

2 Int. Get thou on before. [Exeunt.

Gond. Count, I dare yet pronounce again, thy Sister is not honest.

Count. You are your self my Lord, I like your setledness.

Gond. Count, thou art young, and unexperienc'd in the dark, hidden ways of Women: Thou dar'st affirm with confidence, a Lady of fifteen may be a Maid.

Count. Sir, if it were not so, I have a Sister would set near my heart.

Gond. Let her sit near her shame, it better fits her: call back the bloud that made our stream in nearness, and turn the Current to a better use; 'tis too much mudded, I do grieve to know it.

Duke. Dar'st thou make up again, dar'st thou turn face, knowing we know thee, hast thou not been discover'd openly? did not our ears hear her deny thy courtings? did we not see her blush with modest anger, to be so overtaken by a trick; can ye deny this Lord?

Duke. Sir, Sir, these are but words and tricks, give me the proof.

Gond. I have confest it Sir.

Duke. I dare not give thee credit without witness.

Gond. Does your grace think we carry seconds with us, to search us, and see fair play: your Grace hath been ill tutor'd in the business; but if you hope to try her truly, and satisfy your self what frailty is, give her the Test: do not remember Count she is your Sister; nor let my Lord the Duke believe she is fair; but put her to it without hope or pity, then ye shall see that golde[n] form flie off, that all eyes wonder at for pure and fixt, and under't base blushing Copper; metall not worth the meanest honor: you shall behold her then my Lord transparent, look through her heart, and view the spirits how they leap, and tell me then I did belie the Lady.

2 Int. So please your Grace we have discover'd a villain and a Traitor: the Lord Lucio hath examin'd him, and sent him to your Grace for Judgement.

Count. My Lord, I dare absolve him from all sin of Treason: I know his most ambition is but a dish of meat; which he hath hunted with so true a scent, that he deserveth the Collar not the Halter.

Duke. Why do they bring him thus bound up? the poor man had more need [of] some warm meat, to comfort his cold stomach.

Count. Your Grace shall have the cause hereafter, when you [may] laugh more freely:

Duke. Would there were no heavier prodigies hung over us, than this poor fellow, I durst redeem all perils ready to pour themselves upon this State, with a cold Custard.

Count. Your Grace might do it without danger to your person.

Laz. My Lord, if ever I intended treason against your Person, or the State, unless it were by wishing from your Table some dish of meat, which I must needs confess, was not a subjects part: or coveting by stealth, sups from those noble bottles, that no mouth, keeping allegiance true, should dare to taste: I must confess, with more than covetous eye, I have beheld those dear conceal'd dishes, that have been brought in by cunning equipage, to wait upon your Graces pallat: I do confesse, out of this present heat, I have had Stratagems and Ambuscado's; but God be thank'd they have never took.

Duke. Count, this business is your own; when you have done, repair to us. [Exit Duke.

Count. I will attend your Grace: Lazarello, you are at liberty, be your own man again; and if you can be master of your wishes, I wish it may be so.

Laz. I humbly thank your Lordship: I must be unmannerly, I have some present business, once more I heartily thank your Lordship. [Exit Lazarillo.

Count. Now even a word or two to you, and so farewell; you think you have deserv'd much of this State by this discovery: y'are a slavish people, grown subject to the common course of all men. How much unhappy were that noble spirit, could work by such baser gains? what misery would not a knowing man put on with willingness, e'r he see himself grown fat and full fed, by fall of those you rise by? I do discharge ye my attendance; our healthful State needs no such Leeches to suck out her bloud.

1 Int. I do beseech your Lordship.

2 Int. Good my Lord.

Count. Go learn to be more honest, [when] I see you work your means from honest industry, [Exeunt Informers.

I must dispatch him too. Now Lord Lucio, what business [bring] you hither?

Luc. Faith Sir, I am discovering what will become of that notable piece of treason, intended by that Varlet Lazarillo; I have sent him to the Duke for judgement.

Count. Sir, you have perform'd the part of a most careful Statesman, and let me say it to your face, Sir, of a Father to this State: I would wish you to retire, and insconce your self in study: for such is your daily labour, and our fear, that our loss of an hour may breed our overthrow.

Luc. Sir, I will be commanded by your judgement, and though I find it a trouble scant to be waded through, by these weak years: yet for the dear care of the Commonwealth, I will bruise my brains, and confine my self to much vexation.

Count. Go, and maist thou knock down Treason like an Ox.

Luc. Amen.

Mer. Have I spoke thus much in the honor of Learning? learn'd the names of the seven liberal Sciences, before my marriage; and since, have in haste written Epistles congratulatory, to the Nine Muses, and is she prov'd a Whore and a Begger?

Pan. 'Tis true, you are not now to be taught, that no man can be learn'd of a suddain; let not your first project discourage you, what you have lost in this, you may get again in Alchumie.

Fran. Fear not Husband, I hope to make as good a wife, as the best of your neighbors have, and as honest.

Mer. I will goe home; good Sir, do not publish this, as long as it runs amongst our selves; 'tis good honest mirth: you'll come home to supper; I mean to have all her friends, and mine, as ill as it goes.

Pan. Do wisely Sir, and bid your own friends, your whole wealth will scarce feast all hers, neither is it for your credit, to walk the streets with a woman so noted; get you home and provide her cloaths: let her come an hour hence with an Hand-basket, and shift her self, she'll serve to sit at the upper end of the Table, and drink to your customers.

Mer. Art is just, and will make me amends.

Pan. No doubt Sir.

Mer. The chief note of a Scholar you say, is to govern his passions; wherefore I do take all patiently; in sign of which, my [most] dear Wife, I do kiss thee, make haste home after me, I shall be in my study.

Pan. Go, avaunt, my new City Dame, send me what you promis'd me for consideration; and may'st thou prove a Lady.

Fran. Thou shalt have it, his Silks shall flie for it. [Exeunt.

Laz. How sweet is a Calm after a Tempest, what is there now that can stand betwixt me and felicity? I have gone through all my crosses constantly; have confounded my enemies, and know where to have my longing[s] satisfied: I have my way before me, there's the door, and I may freely walk into my delights: knock boy.

Jul. Who's there? [Within.

Laz. Madona, my Love, not guilty, not guilty, open the door.

Jul. Art thou come sweet-heart?

Laz. Yes, to [thy] soft embraces, and the rest of my over-flowing blisses; come, let us in and swim in our delights: a short Grace as we go, and so to meat.

Jul. Nay my dear Love, you must bear with me in this; we'll to the Church first.

Laz. Shall I be sure of it then?

Jul. By my love you shall.

Laz. I am content, for I do now wish to hold off longer, to whet my appetite, and do desire to meet with more troubles, so I might conquer them:

Jul. Come Mouse will you walk?

Laz. I pray thee let me be deliver'd of the joy I am so big with, I do feel that high heat within me, that I begin to doubt whether I be mortal:

Boy. When that is done, you'll begin to repent upon a full stomach; but I see, 'tis but a form in destiny, not to be alter'd. [Exeunt.

Oria. Sir, what may be the current of your business, that thus you single out your time and place?

Arri. Madam, the business now impos'd upon me, concerns you nearly, I wish some worser man might finish it.

Ori. Why are ye chang'd so? are ye not well Sir?

Arr. Yes Madam, I am well, wo'd you were so.

Oria. Why Sir, I feel my self in perfect health.

Arri. And yet ye cannot live long, Madam.

Oria. Why good Arrigo?

Arr. Why? ye must dye.

Oria. I know I must, but yet my fate calls not upon me.

Arr. It does; this hand the Duke commands shall give you death.

Oria. Heaven, and the powers Divine, guard well the innocent.

More Virgin than I have; Tell him Lord Gondarino's Plot, I suffer for, and willingly: tell him it had been a greater honor, to have sav'd than kill'd: but I have done: strike, I am arm'd for heaven. Why, stay you? is there any hope?

Arri. I would not strike.

Orian. Have you the power to save?

Arri. With hazard of my life, if it should be known.

Orian. You will not venture that?

Arri. I will Lady: there is that means yet to escape your death, if you can wisely apprehend [it].

Orian. Ye dare not be so kind?

Arri. I dare, and will, if you dare but deserve't.

Ori. If I should slight my life, I were [to] blame.

Arri. Then Madam, this is the means, or else you die: I love you.

Orian. I shall believe it, if you save my life.

Arri. And you must lie with me.

Orian. I dare not buy my life so.

Arri. Come, ye must resolve, say yea or no.

Orian. Then no; nay, look not ruggedly upon me, I am made up too strong to fear such looks: Come, do your Butchers part: before I would wish life, with the dear loss of honour, I dare find means to free my self.

Arr. Speak, will ye yield?

Orian. Villain, I will not; Murtherer, do thy worst, thy base unnoble thoughts dare prompt thee to; I am above thee slave.

Arri. Wilt thou not be drawn to yield by fair perswasions?

Orian. No, nor by—

Arri. Peace, know your doom then; your Ladyship must remember, you are not now at home, where you dare [jeast at] all that come about you: but you are fallen under my mercy, which shall be but small; if thou refuse to yield: hear what I have sworn unto my self; I will enjoy thee, though it be between the parting of thy soul and body; yield yet and live.

Orian. I'll guard the one, let Heaven guard the other.

Arri. Are you so resolute then?

[Duke from above. Hold, hold I say.]

Orian. What [have] I? yet more terror to my tragedy?

Arri. Lady, the Scene of bloud is done; ye are now as free from scandal, as from death.

Gond. I do begin a little to love this woman; I could endure her already twelve miles off.

Count. Sister, I am glad you have brought your honor off so fairly, without loss: you have done a work above your sex, the Duke admires it: give him fair encounter.

Duke. Best of all comforts, may I take this hand, and call it mine?

Ori. I am your Graces handmaid.

Duke. Would ye had sed my self: might it not be so Lady?

Count. Sister, say I, I know you can afford it.

Ori. My Lord, I am your subject, you may command me, provided still, your thoughts be fair and good.

Ori. My Lord, I am no more mine own.

Count. So, this bargain was well driven.

Gond. Duke, thou hast sold away thy self to all perdition; thou art this present hour becomming Cuckold: methinks I see thy gaul grate through thy veins, and jealousie seize thee with her talons: I know that womans nose must be cut off, she cannot scape it.

Duke. Sir, we have punishment for you.

Orian. I do beseech your Lordship, for the wrongs this man hath done me, let me pronounce his punishment.

Duke. Lady, I give't to you, he is your own.

Gond. I do beseech your Grace, let me be banisht with all the speed that may be.

Count. Stay still, you shall attend her sentence.

Orian. Lord Gondarino, you have wrong'd me highly; yet since it sprung from no peculiar hate to me, but from a general dislike unto all women, you shall thus suffer for it; Arrigo, call in some Ladies to assist us; will your Grace [t]ake your State?

Gond. My Lord, I do beseech your Grace for any punishment saving this woman, let me be sent upon discovery of some Island; I do desire but a small Gondela, with ten Holland Cheeses, and I'll undertake it.

Oria. Sir, ye must be content, will ye sit down? nay, do it willingly: Arrigo, tie his Arms close to the chair, I dare not trust his patience.

[G]ond. Mayst thou be quickly old and painted; mayst thou dote upon some sturdy Yeoman of the Wood-yard, and he be honest; mayst thou be barr'd the lawful lechery of thy Coach, for want of instruments; and last, be thy womb unopen'd.

Duke. This fellow hath a pretty gaul.

Count. My Lord, I hope to see him purg'd e'r he part.

Oria. Your Ladyships are welcome: I must desire your helps, though you are no Physitians, to do a strange cure upon this Gentleman.

Ladies. In what we can assist you Madam, ye may command us.

Gond. Now do I sit like a Conjurer within my circle, and these the Devils that are rais'd about me, I will pray that they may have no power upon me.

Oria. Ladies, fall off in couples, then with a [s]oft still march, with low demeanors, charge this Gentleman, I'll be your Leader.

Gond. Let me be quarter'd Duke quickly, I can endure it: these women long for Mans flesh, let them have it.

Duke. Count, have you ever seen so strange a passion? what would this fellow do, if he should find himself in bed with a young Lady?

Count. 'Faith my Lord, if he could get a knife, sure he wou'd cut her throat, or else he wou'd do as Hercules did by Lycas, swing out her soul: h'as the true hate of a woman in him.

Oria. Low with your Cursies Ladies.

Gond. Come not too near me, I have a breath will poison ye, my lungs are rotten, and my stomach is raw: I am given much to belching: hold off, as you love sweet airs; Ladies, by your first nights pleasure, I conjure you, as you wou'd have your Husbands proper men, strong backs, and little legs, as you would have 'em hate your Waiting-women.

Oria. Sir, we must court ye, till we have obtain'd some little favour from those gracious eyes, 'tis but a kiss a piece.

Gond. I pronounce perdition to ye all; ye are a parcel of that damned crew that fell down with Lucifer, and here ye staid on earth to plague poor men; vanish, avaunt, I am fortified against your charms; heaven grant me breath and patience.

1 Lady. Shall we not kiss then?

Gond. No sear my lips with hot irons first, or stitch them up like a Ferrets: oh that this brunt were over!

2 Lady. Come, come, little rogue, thou art too maidenly by my troth, I think I must box thee till thou be'st bolder; the more bold, the more welcome: I prethee kiss me, be not afraid. [She sits on his knee.

Gond. If there be any here, that yet have so much of the fool left in them, as to love their mothers, let them [looke] on her, and loath them too.

2 Lady. What a slovenly little villain art thou, why dost thou not stroke up thy hair? I think thou ne'er comb'st it: I must have it lie in better order; so, so, so, let me see thy hands, are they wash'd?

Gond. I would th[e]y were loose for thy sake.

Duke. She tortures him admirably.

Count. The best that ever was.

2 Lady. Alas, how cold they are, poor golls, why dost thee not get thee a Muff?

Arri. Madam, here's an old Countrey Gentlewoman at the door, that came nodding up for justice, she was with the Lord Gondarino to day, and would now again come to the speech of him, she says.

Oria. Let her in, for sports sake, let her in.

Gond. Mercy, oh Duke, I do appeal to thee: plant Canons there, and discharge them against my breast rather: nay, first let this she-fury sit still where she does, and with her nimble fingers stroke my hair, play with my fingers ends, or any thing, until my panting heart have broke my breast.

Duke. You must abide her censure. [The Lady rises from his knee.

Gond. I see her come, unbutton me, for she will speak.

Gentlew. Where is he Sir?

Gond. Save me, I hear her.

Ar. There he is in state to give you audience.

Gentlew. How does your [good] Lordship?

Gond. Sick of the spleen.

Gentlew. How?

Gond. Sick.

Gentlew. Will you chew a Nutmeg, you shall not refuse it, it is very comfortable.

Duke. No Sir, you must endure.

Gentlew. For my petition, I hope your Lordship hath remembred me.

Oria. 'Faith I begin to pity him, Arrigo, take her off, bear her away, say her petition is granted.

Gentlew. Wh[i]ther do you draw me Sir? I know it is not my Lords pleasure I should be thus used, before my business be dispatched?

Arr. You shall know more of that without.

Oria. Unbind him Ladies, but before he go, this he shall promise; for the love I bear to our own sex, I would have them still hated by thee, and injoyn thee as a punishment, never hereafter willingly to come in the presence, or sight of any woman, nor never to seek wrongfully the publick disgrace of any.

Gond. 'Tis that I would have sworn, and do: when I [meddle] with them, for their good, or their bad; may Time [call] back this day again, and when I come in their companies, may I catch the pox, by their breath, and have no other pleasure for it.

Duke. Ye are [too] merciful.

Oria. My Lord, I shew'd my sex the better.

Gond. All is over-blown Sister: y'are like to have a fair night of it, and a Prince in your Arms: let's goe my Lord.

Duke. Thus through the doubtful streams of joy and grief, True Love doth wade, and finds at last relief. [Exeunt omnes.