'TIS Pitty Shee's a Whore

Acted by the Queenes Maiesties Ser­uants, at The Phaenix in Drury-Lane.

LONDON, Printed by Nicholas Okes for Richard Collins, and are to be sold at his shop in Pauls Church-yard, at the signe of the three Kings. 1633.

The Sceane
PARMA.

The Actors Names.
Bonauentura,
A Fryar.
A Cardinall,
Nuntio to the Pope.
Soranzo,
A Nobleman.
Florio,
A Cittizen of Parma.
Donado,
Another Cittizen.
Grimaldi,
A Roman Gentleman.
Giouanni,
Sonne to Florio.
Bergetto,
Nephew to Donado.
Richardetto,
A suppos'd Phisitian.
Vasques,
Seruant to Soranzo.
Poggio,
Seruant to Bergetto.
Bandetti,
Woemen.
Annabella,
Daughter to Florio.
Hippolita,
Wife to Richardetto
Philotis,
His Neece.
Putana,
Tutresse to Annabella.

To the truely Noble, Iohn, Earle of Peterborough, Lord Mordant, Baron of Turuey.

My LORD,

WHere a Truth of Meritt hath a generall warrant, There Loue is but a Debt, Acknow­ledgement a Iustice. Greatnesse cannot often claime Virtue by Inheritance; Yet in this, YOVRS appeares most Emi­nent, for that you are not more rightly Heyre to your Fortunes, then Glory shalbe to your Memory. Sweetenesse of disposition ennobles a freedome of Birth; in BOTH, your lawfull Interest adds Honour to your owne Name, and mercy to my presumption. Your Noble allowance of These First Fruites of my leasure in the Action, embol­dens my confidence, of your as noble constructi­on in this Presentment: especially since my Ser­uice must euer owe particular duty to your Fa­uours, [Page] by a patticular Ingagement. The Grauity of the Subiect may easily excuse the leightnesse of the Title: otherwise, I had beene a seuere Iudge a­gainst mine owne guilt. Princes haue vouchsaf't Grace to trifles, offred from a purity of Deuotion, your Lordship may like wise please, to admit into your good opinion, with these weake endeuours, the constancy of Affection from the sincere Louer of your Deserts in Honour

IOHN FORD.

To my Friend the Author.

WIth admiration I behel'd This Whore
Adorn'd with Beauty, such as might restore
(If euer being as Thy Muse hath fam'd)
Her Giouanni, in his loue vnblam'd:
The ready Graces lent their willing ayd,
Pallas her selfe now playd the Chamber-maide
And help't to put her Dressings on: secure
Rest Thou, that Thy Name herein shull endure
To th'end of Age; and Annabella bee
Gloriously Faire, euen in her Infamie.
THOMAS ELLICE.

T'is Pitty Shee's a VVHOORE.

Enter Fryar and Giouanni.
Fryar.
DIspute no more in this, for know (young man)
These are no Schoole-points; nice Philosophy
May tolerate vnlikely arguments,
But Heauen admits no jest; wits that presum'd
On wit too much, by striuing how to proue
There was no God; with foolish grounds of Art,
Discouer'd first the neerest way to Hell;
And fild the world with deuelish Atheisme:
Such questions youth are fond; For better 'tis,
To blesse the Sunne, then reason why it shines;
Yet hee thou talk'st of, is aboue the Sun,
No more; I may not heare it.
Gio.
Gentle Father,
To you I haue vnclasp't my burthened soule,
Empty'd the store-house of my thoughts and heart,
Made my selfe poore of secrets; haue not left
Another word vntold, which hath not spoke
All what I euer durst, or thinke, or know;
And yet is here the comfort I shall haue,
Must I not doe, what all men else may, loue?
Fry.
Yes. you may loue faire sonne.
Gio.
Must I not praise
That beauty, which if fram'd a new, the gods
Would make a god of, if they had it there;
And kneele to it, as I doo kneele to them?
Fry.
[Page]
Why foolish mad-man?
Gio.
Shall a peeuish sound,
A customary forme, from man to man,
Of brother and of sister, be a barre
Twixt my perpetuall happinesse and mee?
Say that we had one father, say one wombe,
(Curse to my ioyes) gaue both vs life, and birth;
Are wee not therefore each to other bound
So much the more by Nature; by the the links
Of blood, of reason; Nay if you will hau'e,
Euen of Religion, to be euer one,
One soule, one flesh, one loue, one heart, one All?
Fry.
Haue done vnhappy youth, for thou art lost.
Gio.
Shall then, (for that I am her brother borne)
My ioyes be euer banisht from her bed?
No Father; in your eyes I see the change.
Of pitty and compassion: from your age
As from a sacred Oracle. distills
The life of Counsell: tell mee holy man,
What Cure shall giue me ease in these extreames.
Fry.
Repentance (sonne) and sorrow for this sinne:
For thou hast mou'd a Maiesty aboue
With thy vn-rannged (almost) Blasphemy.
Gio.
O doe not speake of that (deare Confessor)
Fry,
Art thou (my sonne) that miracle of Wit,
Who once within these three Moneth's wert esteem'd
A wonder of thine age, throughout Bononia?
How did the Vniuersity applaud
Thy Gouerment, Behauiour, Learning, Speech,
Sweetnesse, and all that could make vp a man?
I was proud of my Tutellage, and chose
Rather to leaue my Bookes, then part with thee,
I did so: but the fruites of all my hopes
Are lost in thee, as thou art in thy selfe.
O Giouanni: hast thou left the Schooles
Of Knowledge, to conuerse with Lust and Death?
(For Death waites on thy Lust) looke through the World,
[Page]And thou shalt see a thousand faces shine
More glorious, then this Idoll thou ador'st:
Leaue her, and take thy choyce, 'tis much lesse sinne,
Though in such gamos as those, they lose that winne.
Gio.
It were more ease to stop the Ocean
From floates and ebbs, then to disswade my vower.
Fry.
Then I haue done, and in thy wilfull flame:
Already see thy ruine; Heauen is iust,
Yet heare my counsell.
Gio.
As a voyce of life.
Fry.
Hye to thy Fathers house, there locke thee fast
Alone within thy Chamber, then fall downe
On both thy knees, and grouell on the ground:
Cry to thy heart, wash euery word thou vtter'st
In teares, (and if't bee possible) of blood:
Begge Heauen to cleanse the leprosie of Lust
That rots thy Soule, acknowledge what thou art,
A wretch, a worme, a nothing: weepe, sigh, pray
Three times a day, and three times euery night:
For seuen dayes space doe this, then if thou find'st
No change in thy desires, returne to me:
I'le thinke on remedy, pray for thy selfe
At home, whil'st I pray for thee here—away,
My blessing with thee, wee haue neede to pray.
Gio.
All this I'le doe, to free mee from the rod
Of vengeance, else I'le sweare, my Fate's my God,
Exeunt.
Enter Grimaldi and Vasques ready to fight.
Vas.
Come sir, stand to your tackling, if you proue Crauen,
I'le make you run quickly.
Gri.
Thou art no equall match for mee.
Vas.

Indeed I neuer went to the warres to bring home newes, nor cannot play the Mountibanke for a meales meate, and sweare I got my wounds in the field: see you these gray haires, they'le not flinch for a bloody nose, wilt thou to this geere?

Gri.

Why slaue, think'st thou I'le ballance my reputation [Page] With a Cast-suite; Call thy Maister, he shall know that I dare—

Vas.

Scold like a Cot-queane (that's your Profession) thou poore shaddow of a Souldier, I will make thee know, my Maister keepes Seruants, thy betters in quality and performance: Com'st thou to fight or prate?

Gri.
Neither with thee,
I am a Romane. and a Gentleman, one that haue got
Mine honour with expence of blood,
Vas.
You are a lying Coward, and a foole, fight, or by these Hilts
I'le kill thee—braue my Lord,—you'le fight.
Gri.
Prouoake me not, for if thou dost—
They fight, Gri­mal. hath the worst
Vas.
Haue you.
Enter Florio, Donado, Soranzo.
Flo.
What meaned these sudden broyles so neare my dores?
Haue you not other places, but my house
To vent the spleene os your disordered bloods?
Must I be haunted still with such vnrest,
As not to eate, or sleepe in peace at home?
Is this your loue Grimaldi? Fie, t'is naught.
Do.
And Vasques. I may tell thee 'tis not well
To broach these quarrels, you are euer forward
In seconding contentions.
Enter aboue Annabella and Putana.
Flo.
What's the ground?
Sor.
That with your patience Signiore, I'le resolue
This Gentleman, whom same reports a souldier,
(For else I know not) riuals mee in loue
To Signior Florio's Daughter; to whose eares
He still preferrs his suite to my disgrace,
Thinking the way to recommend himselfe,
Is to disparage me in his report:
But know Grimaldi, though (may be) thou art
My equall in thy blood, yet this bewrayes
A lownesse in thy minde; which wer't thou Noble
Thou would it as much disdaine, as I doe thee
For this vnworthinesse; and on this ground
I will'd my Seruant to dorrest this tongne,
[Page]Holding a man, so base, no match for me.
Vas.

And had your sudda ne comming prevented vs, I had let my Gentleman blood vnder the gilles; I should haue worm'd you Sir, for running madde.

Gri.
Ile be reueng'd Soranzo.
Vas

On a dish of warme-broth to stay your stomack, doe honest Innocence, doe; spone-meat is a wholesomer dyet then a spannish blade.

Gri.
remember this.
Sor.
I feare thee not Grimaldi.
Ex. Gri:
Flo.
My Lord Soranzo, this is strange to me,
Why you should storme, hauing my word engag'd:
Owing her heart, what ne [...] you doubt her [...]are?
Loosers may talke by law of any game.
Vas.
Yet the villaine of words, signior Florio may be such,
As would make any vnspleen'd Doue, Chollerick,
Blame not my Lord in this.
Flo.
Be you more silent,
I would not for my wealth, my daughters loue
Should cause the spilling of one drop of blood.
Vasques put vp, let's end this fray in wine.
Exeunt.
Putana

How like you this child? here's threatning challeng­ing, quarrelling, and fighting, on euery side, and all is for your sake; you had neede looke to your selfe ( Chardge) you'le be stolne away sleeping else shortly.

Annabella:
But ( Tutresse) such a life, giues no content
To me, my thoughts are fixt on other ends;
Would you would leaue me.
Put.
Leaue you? no maruaile else; leaue me, no leauing (Chardge)
This is loue outright, Indeede I blame you not, you haue
Choyce fit for the best Lady in Italy.
Anna.
Pray doe not talke so much.
Put.

Take the worst with the best, there's Grimaldi the souldier a very well-timbred fellow: they say he is a Roman, Nephew to the Duke Mount Ferratto, they say he did good ser­vice in the warrs against the Millanoys, but faith ( Chardge) I doe not like him, and be for nothing, but for being a souldier; one a­mongst [Page] twenty of your skirmishing Captaines, but haue some pryuie may me or other, that marres their standing vpright, I like him the worse, hee crinckles so much in the hams; though hee might serue, if their were no more men, yet hee's not the man I would choose.

Anna.

Fye how thou prat'st.

Put.

As I am a very woman, I like Signiour Soranzo, well; hee is wise, and what is more, rich; and what is more then that, kind, and what is more then all this, a Noble-man; such a one were I the faire Annabella, my selfe, I would wish and pray for: then hee is bountifull; beside hee is handsome, and, by my troth, I thinke wholsome: (and that's newes in a gallant of three and twenty.) liberall that I know: louing, that you know; and a man sure, else hee could neuer ha' purchast such a good name, with Hippolita the lustie Widdow in her husbands life time: And t'were but for that report (sweet heart) would'a were thine: Commend a man for his qualities, but take a husband as he is a plaine-sufficient, naked man: such a one is for your bed, and such a one is Signior Soranzo my life for't.

Anna.

Sure the woman tooke her mornings Draught to soone.

Enter Begetto and Poggio.
Put.
But looke (sweet heart,) looke what thinge comes now:
Here's another of your cyphers to fill vp the number:
Oh braue old Ape in a silken Coate, obserue.
Ber.
Did'st thou thinke Poggi [...], that I would spoyle my
New cloathes, and leaue my dinner to fight.
Pog.
No Sir, I did not take you for so arrant a babie.
Ber.
I am wyser then so: for I hope Poggio. thou
Neuer heard'st of an elder brother, that was a Coxcomb,
Did'st Poggio?
Pog.

Neuer indeede Sir, as long as they had either land or mony left them to inhe rit.

Ber.

Is it possible Poggio? oh monstruous! why Ile vnder­take, with a handfull of siluer, to buy a headfull of wit at any tyme, but sirrah, I haue another purchase in hand, I shall haue the wench myne vnckle sayes, I will but wash my face, and shift socks, and then haue at her yfaith— [Page] Marke my pace Poggio.

Pog.

Sir I haue seene an. Asse, and a Mule trot the Spannish [...]auin with a better grace, I know not how often.

Exeunt
Anna.
This Ideot haunts me too.
Put.

I, I, he needes no discription, the rich Magnifico, that is below with your Father ( Chardge) Signior Donado his Vnckle; for that he meanes to make this his Cozen a golden calfe, thinkes that you wil be a right Isralite, and fall downe to him presently: but I hope I haue tuterd you better: they say a fooles bable is a Ladies play fellow: yet you hauing wealth enough, you neede not cast vpon the dearth of flesh at any rate: hang him Innocent.

Enter Giouanni.
Anna.
But see Putana, see: what blessed shape
Of some caelestiall Creature now appeares?
What man is hee, that with such sad aspect
Walkes carelests os him selfe?
Put.
Where
Anna.
Looke below.
Put,
Oh, 'tis your brother sweet—
Anna.
Ha!
Put.
'Tis your brother.
Anna,
Sure 'tis not hee, this is some woefull thinge
Wrapt vp in griefe, some shaddow of a man.
Alas hee beats his brest, and wipes his eyes
Drown'd all in teares: me thinkes I heare him sigh.
Lets downe [...] Putana? and pertake the cause,
I know my Brother in the Loue he beares me,
Will not denye me partage in his sadnesse,
My soule is full of heauinesse and feare.
Exit.
Gio.
Lost, I am lost: my fates haue doom'd my death:
The more I striue, I loue, the more I loue,
The lesse I hope: I see my ruine, certaine.
What Iudgement, or endeuors could apply
To my incurable and restlesse wounds,
I throughly haue examin'd, but in vaine:
O that it were not in Religion sinne,
[Page]To make our loue a God, and worship it.
I haue euen wearied heauen with prayers, dryed vp
The spring of my continuall teares, euen steru'd
My veines with dayly fasts: what wit or Art
Could Counsaile, I haue practiz'd; but alas
I find all these but dreames, and old mens tales
To [...]ight vnsteedy youth; I'me still the same,
Or I must speake, or burst; tis not I know,
My lust; but tis my fare that leads me on.
Keepe feare and low faint hearted shame with slaues,
Ile tell her, that I loue her, though my heart
Were rated at the price of that attempt.
Oh me! she comes.
Enter Anna and Putana.
Anna.
Brother.
Gio.
If such a thing
As Courage dwell in men, (yee heauenly powers)
Now double all that vertue in my tongue.
Anna.
Why Brother, will you not speake to me?
Gio.
Yes; how d'ee Sister?
Anna.
Howsoeuer I am, me thinks you are not well.
Put.
Blesse vs why are you so sad Sir.
Gio.
Let me intreat you leaue vs a while, Putana,
Sister, I would be pryuate with you.
Anna.
With-drawe Putana.
Put.

I will, If this were any other Company for her, I should thinke my ab­sence an office of some credit; but I will leaue them together.

Exit Putana:
Gio.
Come Sister lend your hand, let's walke together.
I hope you neede not blush to walke with mee,
Here's none but you and I.
Anna.
How's this?
Gio.
Faith I meane no harme.
Anna.
Harme?
Gio.
No good faith; how ist with'ee?
Anna.
I trust hee be not franticke
[Page]I am very well brother.
Gio.
Trust me but I am sicke, I feare so sick,
'Twill cost my life.
Anna.
Mercy forbid it: 'tis not so I hope.
Gio.
I thinke you loue me Sister.
Anna.
Yes you know, I doe.
Gio.
I know't indeed—y'are very faire.
Anna.
Nay then I see you haue a merry sicknesse,
Gio.
That's as it proues: they Poets faigne (I read)
That Iuno for her forehead did exceede
All other goddesses: but I durst sweare,
Your forehead exceeds hers, as hers did theirs.
Anna.
Troth this is pretty.
Gio.
Such a paire of starres.
As are thine eyes, would (like Promethean fire.)
(If gently glaun'st) giue life to senselesse stones.
Anna.
Fie vpon'ee,
Gio.
The Lilly and the Rose most sweetly strainge
Vpon your dimpled Cheekes doe striue for change.
Such lippes would tempt a Saint; such hands as those
Would make an Anchoret Lasciuious.
Anna.
D'ee mock mee', or flatter mee,
Gio.
If you would see a beauty more exact
Then Art can counter fit, or nature frame,
Looke in your glasse, and there behold yourowne.
Anna.
O you are a trime youth.
Gio.
Here.
Offers his Dagger to her.
Anna.
What to doe.
Gio.
And here's my breast, strick home.
Rip vp my bosome, there thou shalt behold
A heart, in which is writ the truth I speake.
Why stand'ee?
Anna.
Are you earnest?
Gio.
Yes most earnest.
You cannot loue?
Anna.
Whom.
Gio.
Me, my tortur'd soule
Hath felt affliction in the heate of Death.
O Annabella I am quite vndone,
[Page]The loue of thee (my sister) and the view
Of thy immortall beauty hath vntun'd
All harmony both of my rest and life,
Why d'ee not strike?
Anna.
Forbid it my iust feares,
If this be true, 'twere fitter I were dead.
Gio.
True Annabella; 'tis no time to iest,
I haue too long supprest the hidden flames
That almost haue consum'd me; I haue spent
Many a silent night in sighes and groanes,
Ran ouer all my thoughts, despis'd my Fate,
Reason'd against the reasons of my loue,
Done all that smooth'd-cheeke Vertue could aduise,
But found all bootelesse; 'tis my destiny,
That you must eyther loue, or I must dye.
Anna.
Comes this in sadnesse from you?
Gio,
Let some mischiefe
Befall me soone, if I dissemble ought.
Anna.
You are my brother Giouanni.
Gio.
You,
My Sister Annabella; I know this:
And could afford you instance why to loue
So much the more for this; to which intent
Wise Nature first in your Creation ment
To make you mine: else't had beene sinne and foule,
To share one beauty to a double soule.
Neerenesse in birth or blood, doth but perswade
A neerer neerenesse in affection.
I haue askt Counsell of the holy Church,
Who tells mee I may loue you, and 'tis iust,
That since I may, I should; and will, yes will:
Must I now liue, or dye?
Anna.
Liue, thou hast wonne
The field, and neuer fought; what thou hast vrg'd,
My captiue heart had long agoe resolu'd.
I blush to tell thee, (but I'le tell thee now)
For euery sigh that thou hast spent for me,
[Page]I haue sigh'd ten; for euery teare shed twenty:
And not so much for that I lou'd, as that
I durst not say I lou'd; uor scarcely thinke it.
Gio.
Let not this Musicke be a dreame (yee gods)
For pittie's-sake I begge'ee.
Anna.
On my knees,
Shee kneeles.
Brother, euen by our Mothers dust, I charge you,
Doe not betray mee to your mirth or hate,
Loue mee, or kill me Brother.
Gio.
On my knees,
He kneeles.
Sister, euen by my Mothers dust I charge you,
Doe not betray mee to your mirth or hate,
Loue mee, or kill mee Sister.
Anna.
You meane good sooth then?
Gio.
In good troth I doe,
And so doe you I hope: say, I'm in earnest:
Anna.
I'le swear't and I.
Gio.
And I, and by this kisse,
Kisses her.
(Once more, yet once more, now let's rise, by this)
I would not change this minute for Elyzium,
What must we now doe?
Anna.
What you will.
Gio.
Come then,
After so many teares as wee haue wept,
Let's learne to court in smiles, to kisse and sleepe.
Exeunt.
Enter Florio and Donado.
Elo.
Signior Donado, you haue sayd enough,
I vnderstand you, but would haue you know,
I will not force my Daughter 'gainst her will.
You see I haue but two, a Sonne and Her;
And hee is so deuoted to his Booke,
As I must tell you true, I doubt his health:
Should he miscarry, all my hopes rely
Vpon my Girle; as for worldly Fortune,
I am I thanke my Starres, blest with enough:
My Care is how to match her to her liking,
I would not haue her marry Wealth, but Loue,
And if she like your Nephew, let him haue her,
[Page]Here's all that I can say.
Do.
Sir you say well,
Like a true father, and for my part, I
If the young folkes can like, (twixt you and me')
Will promise to assure my Nephew presently,
Three thousand Florrens yeerely during life,
And after I am dead, my whole estate.
Flo.
'Tis a faire proffer si [...], meane time your Nephew
Shall haue free passage to commence his suite;
If hee can thriue, hee shall haue my consent,
So for this time I'le leaue you Signior.
Exit.
Do.
Well,
Here's hope yet, if my Nephew would haue wit,
But hee is such another Dunce, I feare
Hee'le neuer winne the Wench; when I was young
I could haue done't y faith, and so shall hee
If hee will learne of mee; and in good time
Hee comes himselfe.
Enter Bergetto and Poggio.
Pog.
How now Bergetto, whether away so fast?
Ber.

Oh Vnkle, I haue heard the strangest newes that euer came out of the Mynr, haue I not Poggio.

Pog.

Yes indeede Sir.

Do.

What newes Bergetto?

Ber.

Why looke yee Vnkle? my Barber told me iust now that there is a fellow come to Towne, who vndertakes to make a Mill goe without the mortall helpe of any water or winde, onely with Sand-bags: and this fellow hath a strange Horse, a most excellent beast, I'le assure you Vnkle, (my Barber sayes) whose head to the wonder of all Christian people, stands iust be­hind where his tayle is, is't nor true Poggio?

Pog.

So the Barber swore for sooth.

Do.

And you are running hither?

Ber.

I forsooth Vakle.

Do.

Wilt thou be a Foole stil? come sir, you shall not goe, you haue more mind of a Puppet-play, then on the businesse I told y'ee: why thou great Baby, wu't neuer haue wit, wu't make thy selfe a May-game to all the world?

Pog.

Answere for your selfe Maister.

Ber.
[Page]

Why Vnkle, shu'd I sit at home still, and not goe abroad to see fashions like other gallants?

Do.

To see hobby-horses: what wise talke I pray had you with Annabella, when you were at Signior Florio's house?

Ber.

Oh the wench: vds sa'me, Vnkle; I tickled her with a rare speech, that I made her almost burst her belly with laugh­ing.

Do.

Nay I thinke so, and what speech was't?

Ber.

What did I say Poggio?

Pog.

Fot sooth my Maister said, that hee loued her almost a [...] ­well as hee loued Parmasent, and swore (I'le be sworne for him). that shee wanted but such a Nose as his was, to be as pretty a young woeman, as any was in Parma.

Do.

Oh grose!

Ber.

Nay Vnkle, then sh [...]e ask't mee, whether my Father had any more children then my selfe: and I sayd no, 'twere better hee should haue had his braynes knockt out first.

Do.

This is intolerable.

Ber.

Then sayd shee, will Signior Donado your Vnkle leaue you all his wealth?

Do.

Ha! that was good, did she harpe vpon that string?

Ber.

Did she harpe vpon that string, I that she did: I answe­red, leaue me all his wealth? why woeman, hee hath no other wit, if hee had, he should heare on't to his euer lasting glory and confusion: I know (quoth I) I am his white boy, and will not be guld: and with that she fell into a great smile, and went away. Nay I did fit her.

Do.
Ah sitrah, then I see there is no changing of nature,
Well B [...]rgetto, I feare thou wilt be a very Asse still.
Ber.
I should be sorry for that Vnkle.
Do.

Come, come you home with me, since you are no better a speaker, I'le haue you wr [...]te to her after some courtly manner, and [...]close some rich I ewell in the Letter.

Ber.

I marry, that will be excellent.

Do.
Peace [...]nnocent,
Once in my time I'le set my wits to schoole,
If all faile, 'tis but the fortune of a foole.
Be [...].
Poggio, 'twill doe Poggio.
Excunt.

Actus Secundus.

Enter Giouanni and Annabella, as from their Chamber.
Gio.
Come Annabella, no more Sister now,
But Loue; a name more Gracious, doe not blush,
(Beauties sweete wonder) but be proud, to know
That yeelding thou hast conquer'd, and inflam'd
A heart whose tribute is thy brothers life.
Anna.
And mine is his, oh how these stolne contents
Would print a modest Crymson on my cheekes,
Had any but my hearts delight preuail'd.
Gio.
I maruaile why the chaster of your sex
Should thinke this pretty toye call'd Maiden-head,
So strange a losse, when being lost, 'tis nothing,
And you are still the same.
Anna.
'Tis well for you,
Now you can talke.
Gio.
Musicke aswell consists
In th'eare, as in the playing.
Anna.
Oh y'are wanton,
Tell on't, y'are best, doe.
Gio.
Thou wilt chide me then,
Kisse me, so; thus hung Ioue on Laeda's necke,
And suck't diuine Ambrosia from her lips:
I enuy not the mightiest man aliue,
But hold my selfe in being King of thee,
More great, then were I King of all the world:
But I shall lose you Sweet-heart.
Anna.
But you shall not.
Gio.
You must be married Mistres.
Anna.
Yes, to whom?
Gio.
Some one must haue you.
Anna.
You must.
Gio.
Nay some other.
Anna.
Now prithee do not speake so, without iesting
You'le make me weepe in earnest.
Gio.
What you will not.
But tell me sweete, can'st thou be dar'd to sweare
That thou wilt liue to mee, and to no other?
Anna.
By both our loues I dare, for didst thou know
My Gionanni, how all suiters seeme
To my eyes hatefull, thou wouldst trust mee then.
Gio.
[Page]
Enough, I take thy word; Sweet we must part,
Remember what thou vow'st, keepe well my heart.
Anna.
Will you begon?
Gio.
I must.
Anna.
When to returne?
Gio.
Soone.
Anna.
Looke you doe.
Gio.
Farewell.
Exit.
Anna.
Goe where thou wilt, in mind I'le keepe thee here,
And where thou art, I know I shall be there
Guardian.
Enter Putana.
Put.
Child, how is't child? well, thanke Heauen, hal
Anna.
O Guardian, what a Paradise of joy
Haue I past ouer!
Put.

Nay what a Paradise of ioy haue you past vnder? why now I commend thee ( Chardge) feare nothing, (sweete­heart) what though hee be your Brother; your Brother's a man I hope, and I say still, if a young Wench feele the fitt vpon her, let her take any body, Father or Brother, all is one.

Anna.

I would not haue it knowne for all the world.

Put.

Nor I indeed, for the speech of the people; else 'twere nothing.

Florio within—

Daughter Annabella.

Anna.

O mee! my Father,—here Sir,—reach my worke.

Flo. within.

What are you doeing?

An.

So, let him come now,

Enter Florio, Richardetto, like a Doctor of Phisicke, and Philotis with a Lute in her hand.
Flo.

So hard at worke, that's well; you lose no time, looke, I haue brought you company, here's one, a learned Doctor, late­ly come from Padua, much skild in Physicke, and for that I see you haue of late beene sickly, I entreated this reuerent man to visit you some time.

Anna.
Y'are very welcome Sir.
Richard.
I thanke you Mistresse,
Loud Fame in large report hath spoke your praise,
Aswell for Vertue as perfection:
For which I haue beene bold to bring with mee
A Kins-woeman of mine, a maide, for song,
And musicke, one perhaps will giue content,
[Page]Please you to know her.
Anna.
They are parts I loue,
And shee for them most welcome.
Phi.
Thanke you Lady.
Flo.
Sirnow you know my house, pray make not strange,
And if you finde my Daughter neede your Art,
I'le be your pay-master.
Rich.
Sir, what I am shee shall command [...]
Flo.
You shall bind me to you,
Daughter, I must haue conference with you,
Aboutsome matters that concernes vs both.
Good Maister Doctor, please you but walke in,
Wee'le craue a little of your Cozens cunning:
I thinke my Girle hath not quite forgot
To touch an Instrument, she could haue don't,
Wee'le heare them both.
Rich.
I'le waite vpon you sir.
Exeunt.
Enter Soranzo in his study reading a Booke.
Loues measure is extreame, the comfort, paine:
The life vnrest, and the reward disdaine
What's here? looke o're againe, 'tis so, so writes
This smooth licentious Poet in his rymes.
But Sanazar thou lyest, for had thy bosome
Felt such oppression as is laid on mine,
Thou wouldst haue kist the rod that made the smart.
To worke then happy Muse, and contradict
What Sanazer hath in his enuy writ.
Loues measure is the meane, sweet his annoyes,
His pleasures life, and his reward all ioyes.
Had Annabella liu'd when Sanazar
Did in his briefe Euconium celebrate
Venice that Queene of Citties, he had left
That Verse which gaind him such a sume of Gold,
And for one onely looke from Annabell
Had writ of her, and her diuiner cheekes,
O how my thoughts are—
Vasques within—

Pray forbeare, in rules of Ciuility, lot me giue notice on't: I shall be tax't of my neglect of duty and seruice.

Soran.
[Page]
What rude intrusion interrupts my peace,
Can I be no where priuate?
Vas. within.
Troth you wrong your modesty.
Soran.
What's the matter Vasques, who is't?
Enter Hipplita and Vasques.
Hip.
'Tis I:
Doe you know mee now? looke periurd man on her
Whom thou and thy distracted lust haue wrong'd,
Thy sensuall rage of blood hath made my youth
Ascorne to men and Angels, and shall I
Be now a foyle to thy vnsated change?
Thou knowst (false wanton) when my modest fame
Stood free from staine, or scandall, all the charmes
Of Hell or sorcery could not preuaile
Against the honour of my chaster bosome:
Thyne eyes did pleade in teares, thy tongue in oathes
Such and so many, that a heart of steele
Would haue beene wrought to pity, as was mine:
And shall the Conquest of my lawfull bed,
My husbands death vrg'd on by his disgrace,
My losse of woeman-hood be ill rewarded
With hatred and contempt? No, know Soranzo,
I haue a spirit doth as much distast
The slauery of fearing thee, as thou
Dost loath the memory of what hath past.
Soran.
Nay deare Hippolita.
Hip.
Call me not deare,
Nor thinke with supple words to smooth the grosenesse
Of my abuses; 'tis not your new Mistresse,
Your goodly Madam Merchant shall triumph
On my deiection; tell her thus from mee,
My byrth was Nobler, and by much more Free.
Soran.
You are too violent.
Hip.
You are too double
In your dissimulation, see'st thou this,
This habit, these blacke mourning weedes of Care,
'Tis thou art cause of this, and hast diuore't
[Page]My husband from his life and me from him,
And made me Widdow in my widdow-hood.
Soran.
Will you yet heare?
Hip.
More of the periuries?
Thy soule is drown'd too deepely in those sinnes,
Thou need'st not add to [...]th number.
Soran.
Then I'le leaue you,
You are past all rules of sence.
Hip.
And thou of grace.
Vas.

Fy Mistresse, you, are not neere the limits of reason, if my Lord had a resolution as noble as Vertue it selfe, you take the course to vnedge it all. Sir I beseech you doe not perplexe her, griefes (alas) will haue a vent, I dare vndertake Madam Hippo­lita will now freely heare you.

Soran.
Talke to a woman frantick, are these the fruits of your loue?
Hip.
They are the fruites of thy vntruth, false man,
Didst thou not sweare, whil'st no happinese on earth
More then to call me wife? didst thou not vow
When hee should dye to marry mee? for which
The Deuill in my blood, and thy protests
Caus'd mee to Counsaile him to vndertake
A voyage to Ligorne, for that we heard,
His Brother there was dead, and left a Daughter
Young and vnfriended, who with much adoe
I wish't him to bring hi [...]her; hee did so,
And went; and as thou know'st dyed on the way.
Vnhappy man to buy his death so deare
With my aduice; yet thou for whom I did it,
Forget'st thy vowes, and leau'st me to my shame.
Soran.
Who could helpe this?
Hip.
Who? periur'd man thou couldst,
If thou hadst faith or loue.
Soran.
You are deceiu'd,
The vowes I made, (if you remember well)
Were wicked and vnlawfull,'twere more sinne
To keepe them, then to breake them; as for mee
[Page]I cannot maske my penitence, thinke thou
How much thou hast digrest from honest shame,
In bringing of a gentleman to death
Who was thy husband, such a one as hee,
So noble in his quality, condition,
Learning, behauiour, entertainment, loue,
As Parma could not shew a brauer man.
Vas,
You doe not well, this was not your promise.
Soran.
I care not, let her know her monstrous life,
Ere I'le be seruile to so blacke a sinne,
I'le be a Curse; woeman, come here no more,
Lear [...]e to repent and dye; for by my honour
I hate thee and thy lust; you haue beene too foule.
Vas.
This part has beene scuruily playd.
Hip.
How foolishly this beast contemnes his Fate,
And shuns the vse of that, which I more scorne
Then I once lou'd his loue; but let him goe,
She offers to goe away.
My vengeance shall giue comfort to his woe.
Vas.
Mistresse, Mistresse Madam Hippolita,
Pray a word or two.
Hip.
With mee Sir?
Vas.
With you if you please.
Hip.
What is't?
Vas.

I know you are infinitely mou'd now, and you thinke you haue cause, some I confesse you haue, but sure not so much as you imagine.

Hip.

Indeed.

Vas.

O yo [...] were miserably bitter, which you followed euen to the last [...]llable: Faith you were somewhat too shrewd, by my life you could not haue tooke my Lord in a worse time, since I first knew him: tomorrow you shall finde him a new man.

Hip.

Well, I shall waite his leasure.

Vas.

Fie, this is not a hearty patience, it comes sowerly from you, troth let me perswade you for once.

Hip.
I haue it a [...]d it shall be so; thanks opportunity
—perswade me to what—
Vas.

Visitt him in some milder temper, O if you could but master a little your femall spleen, how might you winne him!

Hip.

Hee wil neuer loue me: Vasques, thou hast bin a too trusty seruant to such a master, & I beleeue thy reward in the end wil fal [Page] out like mine.

Vas.

So perhaps too.

Hip.

Resolue thy selfe it will; had I one so true, so truely ho­nest, so secret to my Counsels, as thou hast beene to him and his, I should thinke it a flight acquittance, not onely to make him Maister of all I haue, but euen of my selfe.

Vas.

O you are a noble Gentlewoman.

Hip.

Wu't thou feede alwayes vpon hopes? well, I know thou art wise, and see'st the reward of an old seruant dally what it is

Vas.

Beggery and neglect.

Hip.

True, but Vasques, wer't thou mine, and wouldst bee priuate to me and my designes; I here protest my selfe, and all what I can else call myne, should be at thy dispose.

Vas.

Worke you that way old moule? then I haue the wind of you—I were not worthy of it, by any desert that could lye—within my compasse; if I could—

Hip.

What then?

Vas.

I should then hope to liue in these my old yeares with rest and security.

Hip.
Giue me thy hand, now promise but thy silence,
And helpe to bring to passe a plot I haue;
And here in sight of Heauen, (that being done)
I make thee Lord of mee and mine estate.
Vas.
Come you are merry,
This is such a happinesse that I can
Neither thinke or beleeue.
Hip.
Promise thy secresie, and 'tis confirm'd.
Vas.

Then here I call our good Genij foe-witnesses, whatso­euer your designes are, or against whomsoeuer, I will not one­ly be a speciall actor therein, but neuer disclose it till it be effected.

Hip.
I take thy word, and with that, thee for mine:
Come then, let's more conferre of this anon.
On this delicious bane my thoughts shall banquet,
Reuenge shall sweeten what my griefes haue tasted.
Exeunt.
Enter Richardetto and Philotis.
Richar.
Thou see'st (my louely Necce) these strange mishaps,
How all my fortunes turne to my disgrace,
Wherein I am but as a looker on,
[Page]Whiles others act my shame, and I am silent.
Phi.
But Vnkle, wherein can this borrowed shape
Giue you content?
Richard.
I'le tell thee gentle Neece,
Thy wanton Aunt in her lasc [...]ious riotts
Liues now secure, thinkes I am surely dead
In my late Iourney to Ligorne for you;
(As I haue caus'd it to be rumord out)
Now would I see with what an impudence
Shee giues scope to her loose adultery,
And how the Common voyce allowes hereof:
Thus farre I haue preuail'd.
Phi.
Alas, I feare
You meane some strange reuenge.
Richard.
O be not troubled,
Your ignorance shall pleade for you in all,
But to our businesse, what, you learnt for certaine
How Signior Florio meanes to giue his Daughter
In marriage to Soranzo?
Phi.
Yes for certaine.
Richard.
But how finde you young Annabella's loue,
Inclind to him?
Phi.
For ought I could perceine,
Shee neyther fancies him or any else.
Richard.
There's Mystery in that which time must shew,
Shee vs'd you kindly.
Phi.
Yes.
Richard.
And crau'd your company?
Phi.
Often.
Richard.
'Tis well, it goes as I could wish,
I am the Doctor now, and as for you,
None knowes you; if all faile not we shall thrine.
But who comes here?
Enter Grimaldi.
I know him, 'tis Grimaldi,
A Roman and a souldier, neere allyed
Vnto the Duke of Montferrato, one
Attending on the Nuntio of the Pope
That now resides in Parma, by which meanes
He hopes to get the loue of Annabella,
Gri.
[Page]
Saue you Sir.
Richard.
And you Sir.
Gri.
I haue heard
Of your approu'd skill, which through the City
Is freely talkt of, and would craue your ayd.
Richard.
For what Sir?
Gri.
Marry sir for this—
But I would speake in Priuate.
Richard.
Leaue vs Cozen.
Exit Phi.
Gri.
I loue faire Annabella, and would know
Whether in Arts there may not be receipts
To moue affection.
Richard.
Sir perhaps there may,
But these will nothing profit you.
Gri.
Not mee?
Richard.
Vnlesse I be mistooke, you are a man
Greatly in fauour with the Cardinall.
Gri.
What of that?
Richard.
In duty to his Grace,
I will be bold to tell you, if you seeke
To marry Florio's daughter, you must first
Remoue a barre twixt you and her.
Gri.
Whose that?
Richard:
Soranzo is the man that hath her heart,
And while hee liues, be sure you cannot speed.
Gri.
Soranzo, what mine Enemy, is't hee?
Richard.
Is hee your Enemy?
Gri.
The man I hate,
Worse then Confusion:
I'le tell him streight.
Richard.
Nay, then take mine aduice,
(Euen for his Graces sake the Cardinall)
I'le finde a time when hee and shee doe meete,
Of which I'le giue you notice, and to be sure
Hee shall not scape you, I'le prouide a poyson
To dip your Rapiers poynt in, if hee had
As many heads as ( Hidra had, he dyes.
Gri.
But shall I trust thee Doctor?
Richard.
[Page]
As your selfe,
Doubt not in ought; thus shall the Fates d [...]erce,
By me Soranzo falls, that min'd mee.
Excunt.
Enter Donado, Bergetto and Peggio.
Do.

Well Sir, I must bee content to be both your Secretary and your Messenger my selfe; I cannot tell what this Letter may worke, but as sure as I am aliue, if thou come or [...]e to talke with her, I feare thou wu't marre whatsoeuer I make.

Ber.

You make Vnkle? why am not I bigge enough to car­ry mine owne Letter I pray?

Do.

I, I carry a fooles head o'thy owne; why thou Dunce, wouldst thou write a letter, and carry it thy selfe

Ber.

Yes that I wudd, and reade it to her with my owne mouth, for you must thinke, if shee will not belecue me my selfe when she heares me speake; she will not beleeue anothers hand­writing. O you thinke I am ablocke-head Vnkle, no sir, Pog­gio knowes I haue indited a letter my selfe, so I haue.

Pog.

Yes truely sir, I haue it in my pocket.

Do.

A sweate one no doubt, pray let's see't.

Ber.

I cannot reade my owne hand very well Poggio, Reade it Poggio.

Do.

Begin.

Poggio reades
Pog.
MOst dainty and honey-sweete Mistresse,

I could call you faire, [...] lie as fast as any that loues you, but my Vnkle being the older man, I leaue it to him, as more fit for his age, and the colour of his beard: I am wise enough to tell you [...] board where I see occasian, or if you like my Vnkles wit bet­ter then mine, you shall marry mee; if you like mine better then his [...] I will marry you in spight of your teeth; So commonding my best parts to you, I rest.

Yours vpwards and downewards, or you may chose, Bergetto.
Ber.
Ah ha, here's stuffe Vnkle.
Do.
Here's stuffe indeed to shame vs all,
Pray whose aduice did you take in this learned Letter?
Pog.
None vpon my word, but mine owne.
Ber.
[Page]

And mine Vnkle, beleeue it, no bodies else; 'twas mine owne brayne, I thanke a good wit for't.

Do.

Get you home sir, and looke yon keepe within doores till I returne.

Ber.

How? that were a iest indeede; I scorne it yfaith.

Do.

What you doe not?

Ber.

Iudge me, but I doe now.

Pog.

Indeede sir 'tis very vnhealthy.

Do.

Well sir, if I heare any of your apish running to motions, and fopperies till I come backe, you were as good no; looke too't.

Exit Do.
Ber.

Poggio, shall's steale to see this Horse with the head in's tayle?

Pog.

I but you must take heeds of whipping.

Ber.
Dost take me for a Child Poggio,
Come honest Poggio,
Exeunt:
Enter Fryar and Giouanni.
Fry.
Peace, thou hast told a tale, whose euery word
Threatens eternall flaughter to the soule:
I'me sorry I haue heard it; would mine eares
Had beene one minute deafe, before the houre
That thou cam'st to mee: o young man cast-away,
By the relligious number of mine order,
I day and might haue wak't my aged eyes,
Aboue thy strength, to weepe on thy behalfe:
But Heauen is angry, and be thou resolu'd,
Thou art a man remark't to tast a mischiefe,
Looke for't; though it come late, it will come sure.
Gio.
Father, in this you are vncharitable;
What I haue done, I'le proue both fit and good.
It is a principall (which you haue taught
When I was yet your Scholler) that the Fame
And Composition of the Minde doth follow
The Frame and Composition of Body:
So where the Bodies furniture is Beauty,
The Mindes must needs be Vertue: which allowed.
Vertue it selfe is Reason but refin'd,
And Loue the Quintesence of that, this proues
[Page]My Sisters Beauty being rarely Faire,
Is rarely Vertuous; chiefely in her loue,
And chiefely in that Loue, her loue to me.
If hers to me, then so is mine to her;
Since in like Causes are effects alike.
Fry.
O ignorance in knowledge, long agoe,
How often haue I warn'd thee this before?
Indeede if we were sure there were no Deity,
Nor Heauen nor Hell, then to be lead alone,
By Natures light (as were Philosophers
Of elder times) might instance some defence.
But 'tis not so; then Madman, thou wilt finde,
That Nature is in Heauens positions blind.
Gio.
Your age o're rules you, had you youth like mine,
You'd make her loue your heauen, and her diuine.
Fry.
Nay then I see th'art too farre sold to hell,
It lies not in the Compasse of my prayers
To call thee backe; yet let me Counsell thee:
Perswade thy sister to some marriage.
Gio.
Marriage? why that's to dambe her; that's to prone
Her greedy of variety of lust.
Fry.
O fearefull! if thou wilt not, giue me leaue
To shriue her; lest shee should dye vn-absolu'd.
Gio.
At your best leasure Father, then shee'le tell you,
How dearely shee doth prize my Matchlesse loue,
Then you will know what pitty 'twere we two
Should haue beene sundred from each others armes.
View well her face, and in that little round,
You may obserue a world of variety;
For Colour, lips, for sweet perfumes, her breath;
For Iewels, eyes; for threds of purest gold,
Hayre; for delicious choyce of Flowers, cheekes;
Wonder in euery portion of that Throne:
Heare her but speake, and you will sweare the Sphaeres
Make Musicke to the Cittizens in Heauen:
But Father, what is else for pleasure fram'd,
Least I offend your eares shall goe vn-nam'd.
Fry.
[Page]
The more I heare, I pitty thee the more,
That one so excellent should giue those parts:
All to a second Death; what I can doe
Is but to pray; and yet I could aduise thee,
Wouldst thou be rul'd.
Gio.
In what?
Fry.
Why leaue her yet,
The Throne of Mercy is aboue your trespasse,
Yet time is left you both—
Gio.
To embrace each other,
Else let all time be strucke quite out of number;
Shee is like mee, and I like her resolu'd.
Fry.
No more, I'le visit her; this grieues me most,
Things being thus, a paire of soules are lost.
Exeūt.
Enter Florio, Donado, Annabella, Putana.
Flo.
Where's Giouanni?
Anna.
Newly walk't abroad,
And (as I heard him say) gon to the Fryar
His reuerent Tutor.
Flo.
That's a blessed man,
A man made vp of holinesse, I hope
Hee'le teach him how to gaine another world.
Do.
Faire Gentlewoman, here's a letter sent:
To you from my young Cozen, I dare sweare
He loues you in his soule, would you could heare
Sometimes, what I see dayly, sighes and teares,
As if his breast were prison to his heart.
Flo.
Receiue it Annabella.
Anna.
Alas good man.
Do.
What's that she said?
Pu.

And please you sir, she sayd, alas good man, truely I doe Commend him to her euery night before her first sleepe, because I would haue her dreame of him, and shee harkens to that most relligiously.

Do.

Say'st so, godamercy Putana there's something for thee, and prythee doe what thou canst on his behalfe; sha'not [Page] be lost labour, take my word for't.

Pu.

Thanke you most heartily sir, now I haue a Feeling of your mind, let mee alone to worke.

Anna.

Guardian!

Pu.

Did you call?

Anna.

Keepe this letter,

Do.

Signior Florio, in any case bid her reade it instantly.

Flo.

Keepe it for what? pray reade it mee here right.

Anna.

I shall sir,

Shere [...]ae [...],
Do.

How d'ee finde her inclin'd Signior

Flo.
Troth sir I know not how; not all so well
As I could wish.
Anna.
Sir I am bound to rest your Cozens debter,
The Iewell I'le returne, for if he loue,
I'le count that loue a Iewell.
Do.
Marke you that?
Nay keepe them both sweete Maide.
Anna.
You must excuse mee,
Indeed I will not keepe it.
Flo.
Where's the Ring,
That which your Mother in her will bequeath'd,
And charg'd you on her blessing not to giue't
To any but your Husband? send backe that.
Anna.
I haue it not,
Flo.
Ha I haue it not, where is't?
Anna.
My brother in the morning tooke it frō me,
Said he would weare't to Day.
Flo.
Well, what doe you say
To young Bergetto's loue? are you content
To match with him? speake.
Do.
There's the poynt indeed.
Anna.
What shal I doe, I must say something now.
Flo.
What say, why d'ee not speake?
Anna.
Sir with your leaue
Please you to giue me freedome.
Flo.
Yes you haue.
Anna.
Signior Donado, if your Nephew meane
[Page]To rayse his better Fortunes in his match,
The hope of mee will hinder such a hope;
Sir if you loue him, as I know you doe;
Find one more worthy of his choyce then mee,
In short, I'me sure, I sha'not be his wife.
Do.
Why here's plaine dealing, I commend thee for't,
And all the worst I wish thee, is heauen blesse thee,
Your Father yet and I will still be friends,
Shall we not Signior Florio?
Flo.
Yes, why not?
Looke here your Cozen comes.
Ente [...] Bergetto and Poggio.
Do.
Oh Coxcombe, what doth he make here?
Ber.
Where's my Vnkle firs.
Do.
What's the newes now?
Ber.

Saue you Vnkle saue you, you must not thinke I come for nothing Maisters, and how and how is't? what you haue read my letter, ah, there I—tickled you yfaith.

Pog.

But 'twere better you had tickled her in another place.

Ber.

Sirrah Sweet-hea [...]t, I'le tell thee a good jest, and riddle what 'tis.

Anna.

You say you'd tell mee.

Ber.

As I was walking iust now in the Streete, I mett a swaggering fellow would needs take the wall of me, and be­cause hee did thrust me, I very valiantly cal'd him Rogue, hee hereupon bad me drawe, I told him I had more wit then so, but when hee saw that I would not, hee did so maule me with the hilts of his Rapier, that my head sung whil'st my feere caper'd in the kennell.

Do.

Was euer the like asse seene?

Anna.

And what did you all this while?

Ber.

Laugh at him for a gull, till I see the blood runne about mine eares, and then I could not choose but finde in my heart to cry; till a fellow with a broad beard; (they say hee is a new-come Doctor) cald mee into this house, and gaue me a playster, looke you here 'tis; and sir there was a young wench washt my face and hands most excellently, yfaith I shall loue [Page] her as long as I liue for't, did she not Poggio?

Pog.

Yes and kist him too.

Ber.

Why la now, you thinke I tell a lye Vnkle I warrant.

Do.

Would hee that beate thy blood out of thy head, had beaten some wit into it; For I feare thou neuer wilt haue any.

Ber.

Oh Vnkle, but there was a wench, would haue done a mans heart good to haue lookt on her, by this light shee had a face mee-thinks worth twenty of you Mistresse Annabella.

Do,

Was euer such a foole borne?

Anna.

I am glad shee lik't you sir.

Ber.

Are you so, by my troth I thanke you forsooth.

Flo.

Sure 'twas the Doctors neece, that was last day with vs here:

Ber.

'Twas shee, 'twas shee.

Do.

How doe you know that simplicity?

Ber.

Why doe's not hee say so? if I should hau [...] sayd no, I should hau [...] giuen him the lye Vnkle, and so haue deseru'd a dry beating againe; I'le none of that.

Flo.

A very modest welbehau'd young Maide as I haue seene.

Do.

Is shee indeed?

Flo.

Indeed Shee is, if I haue any Iudgement.

Do.

Well sir, now you are free, you need not care for send­ing letters, now you are dismist, your Mistresse here will none of you.

Ber.

No; why what care I for that, I can haue Wenches e­nough in Parma for halfe a Crowne a peece, cannot I Poggio?

Pog.

I'le warrant you sir.

Do.

Signior Florio, I thanke you for your free recourse you gaue for my admittance; and to you faire Maide that Iewell I will giue you 'gainst your marriage, come will you goe sir?

Ber.

I marry will I Mistres, farwell Mistres, I'le come a­gaine to morrow—farwell Mistres.

Exit Do. Ber. & Pog.
Enter Gio.
Flo.

Sonne, where haue you beene? what alone, alone, still, still? I would not haue it so, you must forsake this ouer book­ish humour. Well, your Sister hath shooke the Foole off.

Gio.
[Page]
'Twas no match for her.
Flo.
'Twas not indeed I ment it nothing lesse,
Soranzo is the man I onely like;
Looke on him Annabella, come, 'tis supper-time,
And it growes late.
Exit Florio.
Gio.
Whose [...]ewell's that?
Anna.
Some Sweet-hearts.
Gio.
So I thinke.
Anna.
A lusty youth, Signior Donado gaue it me
To weare against my Marriage.
Gio.
But you shall not weare it, send it him backe againe.
Anna.
What, you are jealous?
Gio.
That you shall know anon, at better leasure:
Welcome sweete night, the Euening crownes the Day.
Exeunt.

Actus Tertius.

Enter Bergetto and Poggio.
Ber.

DO'es my Vnkle thinke to make mee a Baby still? no,

Poggio, he shall know, I haue a skonce now.

Pog.

I let him not bobbe you off like an Ape with an apple.

Ber.

Sfoot, I will haue the wench, if he were tenne Vnkles, in despight of his nose Poggio.

Pog.

Hold him to the Grynd-stone, and giue not a jot of ground, Shee hath in a manner promised you already.

Pog.
True Poggio, and her Vnkle the Doctor
Swore I should marry her.
Pog.

He swore I remember.

Ber.

And I will haue her that's more; did'st see the codpeice­poynt she gaue me, and the box of Mermalade?

Pog.

Very well, and kist you, that my chopps watred at the sight on't; there's no way but to clap vp a marriage in hugger mugger.

Ber.

I will do't for I tell thee Poggio, I begin to grow valiant [Page] methinkes, and my courage begins to rise.

Pog.

Should you be afraid of your Vnkle?

Ber.

Hang him old doating Rascall, no, I say I will haue her.

Pog.

Lose no time then.

Ber.

I will beget a race of Wise men and Constables, that shall cart whoores at their owne charges, and breake the Dukes peace ere I haue done my selfe.—come away.

Exeunt.
Enter Florio, Giouanni, Soranzo, Annabella, Putana and Vasques.
Flo.
My Lord Soranzo, though I must confesse,
The proffers that are made me, haue beene great
In marriage of my daughter; yet the hope
Of your still rising honours, haue preuaild
Aboue all other Ioynctures; here shee is,
She knowes my minde, speake for your selfe to her,
And heare you daughter, see you vse him nobly,
For any priuate speech, I'le giue you time:
Come sonne and you, the rest let them alone,
Agree as they may.
Soran.
I thanke you sir.
Gio.
Sister be not all woeman, thinke on me.
Soran.
Vasques?
Vas.
My Lord.
Soran.
Attend me without—
Exeunt omnes, manet Soran. & Anna.
Anna.
Sir what's your will with me?
Soran.
Doe you not know what I should tell you?
Anna.
Yes, you'le say you loue mee.
Soran.
And I'le sweare it too; will you beleeue it?
Anna.
'Tis not poynt of faith.
Enter Giouanni aboue.
Soran.
Haue you not will to loue?
Anna.
Not you.
Soran.
Whom then?
Anna.
That's as the Fates inferre.
Gio.
Of those I'me regient now.
Soran.
What meane you sweete?
Anna.
To liue and dye a Maide.
Soran.
[Page]
Oh that's vnfit.
Gio.
Here's one can say that's but a womans noate.
Soran.
Did you but see my heart, then would you sweare—
Anna.
That you were dead.
Gio.
That's true, or somewhat neere it.
Soran.
See you these true loues teares?
Anna.
No.
Gio.
Now shee winkes.
Soran.
They plead to you for grace.
Anna.
Yet nothing speake.
Soran.
Oh grant my suite.
Anna.
What is't
Soran.
To let mee liue.
Anna.
Take it—.
Soran.
Still yours.—
Anna.
That is not mine to giue.
Gio.
One such another word would kil his hopes.
Soran.

Mistres, to leaue those fruitlesse strifes of wit, I know I haue lou'd you long, and lou'd you truely; Not hope of what you haue, but what you are Haue drawne me on, then let mee not in vaine Still feele the rigour of your chast disdaine. I'me sicke, and sicke to th'heart.

Anna.

Helpe, Aquavitae

Soran.

What meane you?

Anna.

Why I thought you had beene sicke.

Soran.

Doe you mocke my loue?

Gio.

There sir shee was too nimble.

Soran.

'Tis plaine; shee laughes at me, these scornefull taunts neither become your modesty, or yeares.

Anna.

You are no looking-glasse, or if you were, I'de dresse my language by you.

Gio.

I'me confirm'd—

Anna.

To put you out of doubt, my Lord, mee-thinks your Common sence should make you vnderstand, that if I lou'd you, or desir'd your loue, some way I should haue giuen you better tast: but since you are a Noble man, and one I wouldnot wish should spend his youth in hopes, let mee aduise you here, to for­beare your suite, and thinke I wish you well, I tell you this.

Soran.
[Page]
Is't you speake this?
Anna.
Yes, I my selfe; yet know
Thus farre I giue you comfort, if mine eyes
Could haue pickt out a man (amongst all those
That sue'd to mee) to make a husband of,
You should haue beene that man; let this suffice,
Be noble in your secresie and wise.
Gio.
Why now I see shee loues me.
Anna.
One word more:
As euer Vertue liu'd within your mind,
As euer noble courses were your guide.
As euer you would haue me know you lou'd me,
Let not my Father know hereof by you:
If I hereafter finde that I must marry,
It shall be you or none.
Soran.
I take that promise.
Anna.
Oh, oh my head.
Soran.
What's the matter, not well?
Anna.
Oh I begin to sicken.
Gio.
Heauen forbid.
Exit from aboue.
Soran.
Helpe, helpe, within there ho.
Gio.
Looke to your daughter Signior Florio.
Enter Florio, Giouanni, Putana.
Flo.
Hold her vp, shee sounes.
Gio.
Sister how d'ee?
Anna.
Sicke, brother, are you there?
Flo.

Conuay her to her bed instantly, whil'st I send for a Phi­sitian, quickly I say.

Put.
Alas poore Child.
Exeunt, manet Soranzo.
Enter Vasques.
Vas.
My Lord.
Soran.
Oh Vasques, now I doubly am vndone.
Both in my present and my future hopes:
Shee plainely told me, that shee could not loue,
And thereupon soone sickned, and I feare
Her life's in danger.
Vas.
[Page]

Byr lady Sir, and so is yours, if you knew all.— [...]las sir, I am sorry for that, may bee 'tis but the Maides sicknesse, an o­uer-fluxe of youth [...] and then sir, there is no such presentremedy, as present Marriage. But hath shee giuen you an absolute deniall?

Soran.
She hath, and she hath not; I'me full of griefe,
But what she sayd, [...]'le tell thee as we goe.
Exeunt.
Enter Giouanni and Putana.
Put.
Oh sir, wee are all vndone, quite vndone, vtterly vndone,
And sham'd foreuer; your sister, oh your sister.
Gio.
What of her? for Heauens sake speake, how do'es shee?
Put.

Oh that euer I was borne to see this day.

Gio.

She is not dead, ha, is shee?

Put.
Dead? no, shee is quicke, 'tis worse, she is with childe,
You know what you haue done; Heauen forgiue'ce,
'Tis too late to repent, now Heauen helpe vs.
Gio.
With child? how dost thou know't?
Put.

How doe I know't? am I at these yeeres ignorant, what the meaning's of Quames, and Waterpangs be? of changing of Colours, Quezinesse of stomacks, Pukings, and another thing that I could name; doe not (for her and your Credits sake) spend the time in asking how, and which way, 'tis so; shee is quick vpon my word, if you let a Phisitian see her water y'are vndone.

Gio.
But in what case is shee?
Put.

Prettily amended, 'twas but a fit which I soone espi'd, and she must looke for often hence-forward.

Gio.
Commend me to her, bid her take no care,
Let not the Doctor visit her I charge you,
Make some excuse, till I returne; oh mee,
I haue a world of businesse in my head,
Doe not discomfort her; how doe this newes perplex mee!
If my Father come to her, tell him shee's recouer'd well,
Say 'twas but some ill dyet; d'ee heare Woeman,
Looke you to't.
Exeunt.
Put.
I will sir.
[Page] Enter Florio and Richardetto
Flo.
And how d'ee finde her sir.
Richard.
Indifferent well,
I see no danger, scarse perceiue shee's sicke,
But that shee told mee, shee had lately eaten
Mellownes, and as shee thought, those disagreed
With her young stomacke.
Flo.

Did you giue her ought?

Richard.
An easie surfeit water, nothing else,
You neede not doubt her health; I rather thinke
Her sicknesse is a fulnesse of her blood,
You vnderstand mee?
Flo.
I doe; you counsell well,
And once within these few dayes, will so order't
She shall be married, ere shee know the time.
Richard.
Yet let not hast (sir) make vnworthy choice,
That were dishonour.
Flo.
Maister Doctor no,
I will not doe so neither, in plaine words
My Lord Soranzo is the man I meane.
Richard.
A noble and a vertuous Gentleman.
Flo.
As any is in Parma; not farre hence,
Dwels Father Bonauenture, a graue Fryar,
Once Tutor to my Sonne; now at his Cell
I'le haue'em married.
Richard.
You haue plotted wisely.
Flo.
I'le send one straight
To speake with him to night.
Richard.
Soranzo's wise, he will delay no time.
Flo.
It shall be so [...]
Enter Fryar and Giouanni.
Fry.
Good peace be here and loue.
Flo.
Welcome relligious Fryar, you are one,
That still bring blessing to the place you come to.
Gio.
Sir, with what speed I could, I did my best,
To draw this holy man from forth his Cell,
To visit my sicke sist [...]r, that with words
[Page]Of ghostly comfort in this time of neede,
Hee might absolue her, whether she liue or dye.
Flo.
'Twas well done [...]Giouanni, thou herein
Hast shewed a Christians care, a Brothers loue
Come Father, I'le conduct you to her chamber,
And one thing would intreat you.
Fry.
Say on sir.
Flo.
I haue a Fathers deare impression,
And wish before I fall into my graue,
That I might see her married, as 'tis fit;
A word from you Graue man, will winne her more,
Then all our best perswasions.
Fry.
Gentle Sir,
All this I'le say, that Heauen may prosper her.
Exeunt.
Enter Grimaldi.
Gri.
Now if the Doctor keepe his word, Soranzo,
Twenty to one you misse your Bride; I know
'Tis an vnnoble act, and not becomes
A Souldiers vallour; but in termes of loue,
Where Merite cannot sway, Policy must.
I am resolu'd, if this Phisitian
Play not on both hands, then Soranzo falls.
Enter Richardetto.
Richard.
You are come as I could wish, this very night So­ranzo,
'tis ordain'd must bee affied to Annabella; and for ought
I know, married.
Gri. How!
Richard.
Yet your patience,
The place, 'tis Fryars Bonauentures Cell.
Now I would wish you to bestow this night,
In watching thereabouts, 'tis but a night,
If you misse now, to morrow I'le know all.
Gri.
Haue you the poyson?
Richard.
Here 'tis in this Box,
Doubt nothing, this will-doe't; in any case
As you respect your life, be quicke and sure.
Gri.
I'le speede him.
Richard.
Doe; away, for 'tis not safe
[Page]You should be seene much here—euer my loue.
Gri.
And mine to you.
Exit Gri.
Richard.
So, if this [...]itt, I'le laugh and hug reuenge;
And they that now dreame of a wedding [...]feast,
May chance to mourne the lusty Bridegromes ruine.
But to my other businesse; Neice Philotis.
Enter Philotis.
Phi.
Vnkle.
Richard.
My louely Neece, you haue bethought'ee.
Phi.
Yes, and as you counsel'd,
Fashion'd my heart to loue him, but hee sweares
Hee will to night be married; for he feares
His Vnkle else, if hee should know the drift,
W [...]ll hinder all, and call his Couze to shrift.
Richard.
To night? why best of all; but let mee see,
I—ha—yes,—so it shall be; in disguise
Wee'le earely to the Fryars, I haue thought on't.
Enter Bergetto and Poggio
Phi.
Vnkle, hee comes.
Richard.
Welcome my worthy Couze.
Ber.
I asse pretty Lasse, come busse Lassae, a ha Poggio.
Phi.
There's hope of this yet.
Richard.
You shall haue time enough, withdraw a little,
Wee must conferre at large.
Ber.
Haue you notsweete-meates, or dainty deuices for me?
Phi.
You shall enough Sweet-heart.
Ber.

Sweet-heart, marke that Poggio; by my troth I cannot choose but kisse thee once more for that word Sweet-heart; Pog­gio, I haue a monstrous swelling about my stomacke, whatsoeuer the matter be.

Pog.
You shall haue Phisick for't sir.
Richard.
Time runs apace.
Ber.
Time's a blockhead.
Richard.
Be rul'd, when wee haue done what's fitt to doe,
Then you may kisse your fill, and bed her too.
Exeunt.
[Page] Enter the Fryar in his study, sitting in a chayre, Annabella knee­ling and whispering to him, a Table before them and wax-lights, she weepes, and wrings her hands.
Fry.
I am glad to see this pennance; for beleeue me,
You haue vnript a soule, so foule and guilty.
As I must tell you true, I maruaile how
The earth hath borne you vp, but weepe, weepe on,
These teares may doe you good; weepe faster yet,
Whiles I doe reade a Lecture.
Anna.
Wretched creature.
Fry.
I, you are wretched, miserably wretched.
Almost condemn'd aliue; there is a place
(List daughter) in a blacke and hollow Vault,
Where day is neuer seene; there shines no Sunne,
But flaming horrour of consuming Fires;
A lightlesse Suphure, choakt with smoaky foggs
Of an infected darknesse; in this place
Dwell many thousand, thousand sundry sorts
Of neuer dying deaths; there damned foules
Roare without pitty, there are Gluttons fedd
With Toades and Addars; there is burning Oyle
Powr'd downe the Drunkards throate, the Vsurer
Is for [...]'t to supp whole draughts of molten Gold;
There is the Murtherer for-euer stab'd,
Yet can he neuer dye; there lies the wanton
On Racks of burning steele, whiles in his soule
Hee feeles the torment of his raging lust.
Anna.
Mercy, oh mercy.
Fry.
There stands these wretched things.
Who haue dream't out whole yeeres in lawlesse sheets
And secret incests, cursing one another;
Then you will wish, each kisse your brother gaue,
Had beene a Daggers poynt; then you shall heare
How hee will cry, oh would my wicked sister
Had first beene damn'd, when shee did yeeld to lust.
[Page]But soft, methinkes I see repentance worke
New motions in your heart, say? how is't with you?
Anna.
Is there no way left to redeeme my miseries?
Fry.
There is, despaire not; Heauen is mercifull,
And offers grace euen now; 'tis thus agreed,
First, for your Honours safety that you marry
The Lord Soranzo, next, to saue your soule,
Leaue off this life, and henceforth liue to him.
Anna.
Ay mee.
Fry.
Sigh not, I know the baytes of sinne
Are hard to leaue, oh 'tis a death to doe't.
Remember what must come, are you content?
Anna.
I am.
Fry.
I like it well, wee'le take the time,
Who's neere vs there?
Enter Florio, Giouanni.
Flo.
Did you call Father?
Fry.
Is Lord Soranzo come?
Flo.
Heestayes belowe.
Fry.
Haue you acquainted him at full?
Flo.
I haue and hee is ouer-ioy'd.
Fry.
And so are wee: bid him come neere.
Gio.
My Sister weeping, ha? I feare this Fryars falshood,
I will call him.
Exit.
Flo.
Daughter, are you resolu'd?
Anna.
Father, I am.
Enter Giouanni, Soranzo, and Vasques.
Flo.
My Lord Soranzo, here
Giue mee your hand, for that I giue you this.
Soran.
Lady, say you so too?
Anna.
I doe, and vow, to liue with you and yours.
Fry.
Timely resolu'd:
My blessing rest on both, more to be done,
You may performe it on the Morning-sun.
Exeunt.
[Page] Enter Grimaldi with his Rapier drawne, and a Darke-lanthorne.
Gri.
'Tis early night as yet, and yet too soone
To finish such a worke; here I will lye
To listen who comes next.
Hee lies downe.
Enter Bergetto and Philotis disguis'd, and after Richardetto and Poggio.
Ber.
Wee are almost at the place, I hope Sweet-heart.
Gri.
I heare them neere, and heard one say Sweet-heart,
'Tis hee; now guide my hand some angry Iustice
Home to his bosome, now haue at you sir.
strikes Ber. & Exit.
Ber.
Oh helpe, helpe, here's a stich fallen in my gutts,
Oh for a Flesh-taylor quickly— Poggio.
Phi.
What ayles my loue?
Ber.
I am sure I cannot pisse forward and backward and yet
I am wet before and behind, lights, lights, ho lights.
Phi.
Alas, some Villaine here has slaine my loue.
Richard.
Oh Heauen forbid it; raise vp the next neighbours
Instantly Poggio, and bring lights,
Exit Poggio.
How is't Bergetto? slaine?
It cannot be; are you sure y'are hurt?
Ber.

O my belly seeths like a Porridge-pot, some cold water I shall boyle ouer else; my whole body is in a sweat, that you may wring my shirt; feele here—why Poggio.

Enter Poggio with Officers, and lights and Halberts.
Pog.
Here; alas, how doe you?
Richard.
Giue me a light, what's here? all blood! O sirs,
Signior Donado's Nephew now is slaine,
Follow the murtherer with all the haste
Vp to the Citty, hee cannot be farre hence,
Follow I beseech you.
Officers.
Follow, follow, follow.
Exeunt Officers.
Richard.
[Page]
Teare off thy linnen Couz, to stop his wounds,
Be of good comfort man.
Ber.

Is all this mine owne blood? [...]ay then good-night with me, Poggio. commend me to my V [...]kle, dost heare? bid him for my sake make much of this wench, oh—I am going the wrong way sure, my be [...]y akes so—oh farwell, Poggio—oh—oh—

Dyes.
Phi.
O hee is dead.
Pog.
How! dead!
Richard.
Hee's dead indeed,
'Tis now to late to weepe, let's haue him home,
And with what speed we may, finde out the Murtherer.
Pog.
Oh my Maister, my Maister, my Maister.
Exeunt.
Enter Vasques and Hippolita.
Hip.
Betroath'd?
Vas.
I saw it.
Hip.
And when's the marriage-day?
Vas.
Some two dayes hence.
Hip.
Two dayes? Why man I would but wish two houres
To send him to his last, and lasting sleepe.
And Vasques thou shalt see, I'le doe it brauely.
Vas.
I doe not doubt your wisedome, nor (I trust) you my secre [...]ie,
I am infinitely yours.
Hip.
I wilbe thine inspight of my disgrace,
So soone? o wicked man, I durst be sworne,
Hee'd laugh to see mee weepe.
Vas.
And that's a Villanous fault in him.
Hip.
No, let him laugh, I'me arm'd in my resolue [...]
Be thou still true.
Vas.
I should get little by treachery against so hopefull a pre­ferment,
as I am like to climbe to.
Hip.
Euen to my bosome Vasques, let My youth
Reuell in these new pleasures, if wee thriue,
Hee now hath but a paire of dayes to liue.
Exeunt.
Enter Florio, Donado, Richardetto, Poggio and Officers.
Flo.
'Tis bootlesse now to shew your selfe a child
[Page] Signior Donado, what is done, is done;
Spend not the time in teares, but seeke for Iustice.
Richard.
I must confesse, somewhat I was in fault,
That had not first acquainted you what loue
Past twixt him and my Neece, but as I liue,
His Fortune grieues me as it were mine owne.
Do.
Ala [...] poore Creature, he ment no man harme,
That I am sure of.
Flo.
I beleeue that too;
But stay my Maisters, are you sure you saw
The Murtherer passe here?
Offic.
And it please you sir, wee are sure wee saw a Ruffian
with a naked weapon in his hand all bloody, get into my Lord
Cardinals Graces gate, that wee are sure of; but for feare of his
Grace (blesse vs) we durst goe no further.
Do.
Know you what manner of man hee was?
Offic.
Yes sure I know the man, they say a is a souldier, hee
that lou'd your daughter Sir an't please y'ee, 'twas hee for cer­taine.
Flo.
Grimaldi on my life.
Offic.
I, I, the same.
Richard.
The Cardinall is Noble, he no doubt
Will giue true Iustice.
Do.
Knocke some one at the gate,
Pog.
I'le knocke sir.
Poggio knocks.
Seruant within. What would'ee?
Flo.
Wee require speech with the Lord Cardinall
About some present businesse, pray informe
His Grace, that we are here.
Enter Cardinall and Grimaldi.
Car.
Why how now friends? what sawcy mates are you
That know nor duty nor Ciuillity?
Are we a person fit to be your hoast?
Or is our house become your common Inne
To beate our dores at pleasure? what such haste
Is yours as that it cannot waite fit times?
[Page]Are you the Maisters of this Common-wealth [...]
And know no more discretion? oh your newes
Is here before you, you haue lost a Nephew
Donado, last night by Grimaldi slaine:
Is that your businesse? well sir, we haue knowledge [...]
Le that suffice.
Gri.
In presence of your Grace,
In thought I neuer ment Bergetto harme,
But Florio you can tell, with how much scorne
Soranzo backt with his Confederates,
Hath often wrong'd mee; I to be reueng'd,
(For that I could not win him else to fight)
Had thought by way of Ambush to haue kild him,
But was vnluckely, therein mistooke;
Else hee had felt what late Bergetto did:
And though my fault to him were meerely chance,
Yet humbly I submit me to your Grace,
To doe with mee as you please.
Car.
Rise vp Grimaldi,
You Cittizens of Parma, if you seeke
For Iustice; Know as Nuntio from the Pope,
For this offence I here receiue Grimaldi
Into his holinesse protection.
Hee is no Common man, but nobly borne;
Of Princes blood, though you Sir Florio,
Thought him to meane a husband for your daughter
If more you seeke for, you must goe to Rome,
For hee shall thither; learne more wit for shame.
Bury your dead—away Grimaldi—leaue'em.
Ex. Car. & Gri.
Do.
Is this a Church-mans voyce? dwels Iustice here?
Flo. Iustice is fledd to Heauen and comes no neerer
Soranzo, was't for him? O Impudence!
Had he the face to speake it, and not blush?
Come, come Donado, there's no helpe in this,
When Cardinals thinke murder's not amisse,
Great men may doe there wills, we must obey,
But Heauen will iudge them for't another day.
Exeunt.

Actus Quartus.

A Banquet. Hoboyes.
Enter the Fryar, Giouanni, Annabella, Philotis, Soranz, Do­nado, Florio, Richardetto, Putana and Vasques.
Fry.
THese holy rights perform'd, now take your times,
To spend the remnant of the day in Feast;
Such fit repasts are pleasing to the Saint [...]
Who are your guests, though not with mortall eyes
To be beheld; long prosper in this day
You happy Couple, to each others ioy:
Soran.
Father, your prayer is heard, the hand of goodnesse
Hath beene a sheild for me against my death;
And more to blesse me, hath enricht my life
With this most precious Iewell; such a prize
As Earth hath not another like to this.
Cheere vp my Loue, and Centlemen, my Friends,
Reioyce with mee in mirth, this day wee'le crowne
With lusty Cups to Annabella's health.
Gio.
Oh Torture, were the marriage yet vndone,
Aside.
Ere I'de endure this sight, to see my Loue
Clipt by another, I would dare Confusion,
And stand the horrour of ten thousand deaths.
Vas.
Are you not well Sir?
Gio.
Prethee fellow wayte,
I neede not thy officious diligence.
Flo.
Signior Donado, come you must forget
Your late mishaps, and drowne [...] your cares in wine.
So an. Vasques?
Vas.
My Lord.
Soran.
Reach me that weighty bowle,
Here brother Giouanni, here's to you,
[Page]Your turne comes next, though now a Batchelour,
Here's to your sisters happinesse and mine.
Gio.
I cannot drinke.
Soran.
What?
Gio.
'Twill indeede offend me
Anna.
Pray, doe not vrge him if hee be not willing.
Flo.
How now, what noyse is this?
Vas.

O sir, I had forgot to tell you; certaine youg Maidens of Parma in honour to Madam Annabella's marriage, haue sent their loues to her in a Masque, for which they humbly craue your patience and silence.

Soran.

Wee are much bound to them, so much the more as it comes vnexpected; guide them in.

Hoboyes.
Enter Hippolita and Ladies in white Roabes with Garlands of Willowes.
Musicke and a Daunce. Dance.
Soran.
Thanks louely Virgins, now might wee but know
To whom wee haue beene beholding for this loue,
Wee shall acknowledge it.
Hip.
Yes, you shall know,
What thinke you now?
Omnes Hippolita?
Hip.
'Tis shee,
Bee not amaz'd; nor blush young louely Bride,
I come not to defraud you of your man,
'Tis now no time to reckon vp the talke
What Parma long hath rumour'd of vs both,
Let rash report run on; the breath that vents it
Will (like a bubble) breake it selfe at last.
But now to you Sweet Creature, lend's your hand,
Perhaps it hath beene said, that I would claime
Some interest in Soranzo, now your Lord,
What I haue right to doe, his soule knowes best:
But in my duty to your Noble worth,
Sweete Annabella, and my care of you,
[Page]Here take Soranzo, take this hand from me,
I'le once more ioyne, what by the holy Church
Is finish't and allow'd; haue I done well?
Soran.
You haue too much ingag'd vs.
Hip.
One thing more
That you may know my single charity,
Freely I here remit all interest
I ere could clayme; and guie you backe your vowes,
And to confirm't, reach me a Cup of wine
My Lord Soranzo, in this draught I drinke,
Long res t'ee—
looke to it Vasques.
Vas.
Feare nothing—
He giues her apoysond Cup, She drinks.
Soran.
Hippolita, I thanke you, and will pledge
This happy Vnion as another life,
Wine there.
Vas.
You shall haue none, neither shall you pledge her.
Hip.
How!
Vas.
Know now Mistresse shee deuill, your owne mischieuous treachery
Hath kild you, I must not marry you.
Hip.
Villaine.
Omnes.
What's the matter?
Vas.

Foolish woeman, thou art now like a Fire-brand, that hath kindled others and burnt thy selfe; Troppo sperar nigann [...], thy vaine hope hath deceiued thee, thou art but dead, if thou hast any grace, pray.

Hip.
Monster.
Vas.

Dye in charity for shame,

This thing of malice, this woman had priuately corrupted mee with promise of malice, vnder this politique reconciliation to to poyson my Lord, whiles shee might laugh at his Confusion oh his marriage-day; I promis'd her faire, but I knew what my reward should haue beene, and would willingly haue spar'd her life, but that I was acquainted with the danger of her dispositi­on, and now haue fitted her a iust payment in her owne coyne, there shee is, shee hath yet—and end thy dayes in peace vild woman, as for life there's no hope, thinke noton't.

Omnes.
Wonderfull Iustice!
Richard.
[Page]
Heauen thou art righteous.
Hip.
O 'tis true,
I feele my minute comming, had that slaue
Kept promise, (o my torment) thou this houre
Had'st dyed Soranzo—heate aboue hell fire—
Yet ere I passe away—Cruell, cruell flames—
Take here my curse amongst you; may thy bed
Of marriage be a racke vnto thy heart,
Burne blood and boyle in Vengeance—o my heart,
My Flame's intolerable—maist thou liue
To father Bastards, may her wombe bring forth
Monsters, and dye together in your sinnes
Hated, scorn'd and vnpittied—oh—oh—
Dyes.
Flo.
Was e're so vild a Creature?
Richard.
Here's the end
Of lust and pride.
Anna. It is a fearefull sight.
Soran.
Vasques, I know thee now a trusty seruant,
And neuer will forget thee—come My Loue,
Wee'le home, and thanke the Heauens for this escape,
Father and Friends, wee must breake vp this mirth,
It is too sad a Feast.
Do.
Beare hence the body.
Fry.
Here's an ominous change,
Marke this my Giouani, and take heed,
I feare the euent; that marriage seldome's good,
Where the bride-banquet so begins in blood.
Exeunt.
Enter Richardetto and Philotis.
Richard.
My wretched wife more wretched in her shame
Then in her wrongs to me, hath paid too soone
The forfeit of her modesty and life.
And I am sure (my Neece) though vengeance houer,
Keeping aloofe yet from Soranzo's fall,
Yet hee will fall, and sinke with his owne weight.
I need not (now my heart perswades me so)
To further his confusion; there is one
Aboue begins to worke, for as I heare,
Debate's already twixt his wife and him,
[Page]Thicken and run to head; shee (as 'tis sayd)
Sleightens his loue, and he abandons hers
Much talke I heare, since things goe thus (my Neece)
In tender loue and pitty of your youth,
My counsell is, that you should free your yeeres
From hazard of these woes; by flying hence
To faire Cremona, there to vow your soule
In holinesse a holy Votaresse,
Leaue me to see the end of these extreames
All humane worldly courses are vneuen,
No life is blessed but the way to Heauen.
Phi.
Vnkle, shall I resolue to be a Nun?
Richard.
I gentle Neece; and in your hourely prayers
Remember me your poore vnhappy Vnkle;
Hie to Cremona now, as Fortune leades,
Your home, your cloyster, your best Friends, your beades,
Your chast and single life shall crowne your Birth,
Who dyes a Virgine, liue a Saint on earth.
Phi.
Then farwell world, and worldly thoughts adeiu,
Welcome chast vowes, my selfe I yeeld to you.
Exeunt.
Enter Soranzo vnbrac't, and Annabella dragg'd in.
Soran.
Come strumpet, famous whoore, were euery drop
Of blood that runs in thy adulterous veynes
A life, this Sword, (dost see't) should in one blowe
Confound them all, Harlot, rare, notable Harlot,
That with thy brazen face maintainst thy sinne
Was there no man in Parma to be bawd
To your loose cunning whorodome else but I?
Must your hot ytch and plurisie of lust,
The hey day of your luxury be fedd
Vp to a surfeite, and could none but I
Be pickt out to be cloake to your close tricks,
Your belly-sports? Now I must be the Dad
To all that gallymaufrey that's stuft
In thy Corrupted bastard-bearing wombe,
[Page]Shey, must I?
Anna.
Beastly man, why 'tis thy fate:
I sued not to thee, for, but that I thought [...]
Your Cuer-louing Lordship would haue runne
Madd on denyall, had yee lent me time,
I would haue told 'ee in what case I was,
But you wou'd needes be doing.
Soran.
Whore of whores!
Dar'st thou tel' mee this?
Anna.
O yes, why not?
You were deceiu'd in mee; 'twas not for loue
I chose you, but for honour; yet know this,
Wou'd you be patient yet, and hide your shame,
I'de see whether I could loue you.
Soran.
Excellent Queane!
Why art thou not with Child?
Anna.
What needs all this,
When 'tis superfluous? I confesse I am.
Soran.
Tell mee by whome.
Anna.
Soft sir, 'twas not in my bargaine.
Yet somewhat sir to stay your lo [...]ging stomacke
I'me content t'acquaint you with; The man,
The more then Man that got this sprightly Boy,
(For 'tis a Boy that for glory sir,
Your heyre shalbe a Sonne,)
Soran.
Damnable Monster.
Anna.
Nay and you will not heare, I'le speake no more.
Soran.
Yes speake, and speake thy last.
Anna.
A match, a match;
This Noble Creature was in euery part
So angell-like, so glorious, that a woeman,
Who had not beene but human as was I,
Would haue kneel'd to him, and haue beg'd for loue.
You, why you are not worthy once to name
His name without true worship, or indeede,
Vnlesse you kneel'd, to heare another name him.
Soran.
What was hee cal'd?
Anna.
[Page]
Wee are not come to that,
Let it suffice, that you shall haue the glory,
To Father what so Braue a Father got.
In briefe, had not this chance, falne out as't doth,
I neuer had beene troubled with a thought
That you had beene a Creature; but for marriage,
I scarce dreame yet of that.
Soran.
Tell me his name.
Anna.
Alas, alas, there's all
Will you beleeue?
Soran.
What?
Anna.
You shall neuer know.
Soran.
How!
Anna.
Neuer,
If you doe, let mee be curst.
Soran.
Not know it, Strumpet, I'le ripp vp thy heart,
And finde it there.
Anna.
Doe, doe.
Soran.
And with my teeth,
Teare the prodigious leacher joynt by ioynt.
Anna.
Ha, ha, ha, the man's merry.
Soran.
Do'st thou laugh?
Come Wh [...]re, tell mee your louer, or by Truth
I'le how thy flesh to shreds; who is't
Anna.
Che morte pluis dolce che morire per amore.
sings.
Soran.
Thus will I pull thy hayre, and thus I'le drag
Thy lust be-leapred body through the dust.
Yet tell his name.
Anna.
Morendoin gratia Lei morirere senzadolore.
sings
Soran.
Dost thou Triumph? the Treasure of the Earth
Shall not redeeme thee, were there kneeling Kings,
Did begge thy life, or Angells did come downe
To plead in teares, yet should not all preuayle
Against my rage; do'st thou not tremble yet?
Anna.
At what? to dye; No, be a Gallant hang-man
I dare thee to the worst, strike, and strike home,
[...] leaue reuenge behind, and thou shalt feel't.
Soran.
[Page]
Yet tell mee cre thou dyest, and tell mee truely,
Knowes thy old Father this?
Anna.
No by my life.
Soran.
Wilt thou confesse, and I will spare thy life?
Anna.
My life? I will not buy my life so deare.
Soran.
I will not slacke my Ve [...]geance.
Enter Vasques.
Vas.
What d'ee meane Sir?
Soran.
Forbeare Vasques, such a damned Whore
Deserues no pitty.
Vas.

Now the gods forefend!

And wud you be her executioner, and kill her in your rage too? O 'twere most vn-manlike; shee is your wife, what faults hath beene done by her before she married you, were not against you; alas Poore Lady, what hath shee committed, which any Lady in Italy in the like case would not? Sir, you must be ru [...]ed by your reason, and not by your fury, that were vnhumane and beastly.

Soran.
Shee shall not liue.
Vas.

Come shee must; you would haue her confesse the Au­thors of her present misfortu [...]es I warrant'ee, 'tis an vnconscio­nable demand, and shee should loose the estimation that I (for my part) hold of her worth, if shee had done it; why sir you ought not of all men liuing to know it: good sir bee reconciled, alas good gentlewoman.

Anna.
Pish, doe not beg for mee, I prize my life
As nothing; if The man will needs bee madd.
Why let him take it.
Soran.
Vasques, hear'st thou this?
Vas.

Yes, and commend her for it; in this shee shews the no­blenesse of a gallant spirit, and beshrew my heart, but it becomes her rarely—Sir, in any case smother your reuenge; leaue the senting out your wrongs to mee, bee rul'd [...] as you respect your honour, or you marr all—Sir, if euer my seruice were of any Credit with you, be not so violent in your distractions: you are married now; what a tryumph might the report of this giue to other neglected Sutors, 'tis as manlike to beare extremities, as godlike to forgiue.

Soran.
[Page]
O Vasques, Vasques, in this peece of flesh,
This faithlesse face of hers, had I layd vp
The treasure of my heart; hadst thou beene vertuous
(Faire wicked woeman) not the matchlesse ioyes
Of Life it selfe had made mee wish to liue
With any Saint but thee; Deceitfull Creature,
How hast thou mock't my hopes, and in the shame
Of thy lewd wombe, euen buried mee aliue?
I did too dearely loue thee.
Vas.
This is well;
Follow this temper with some passion,
Aside.
Bee briefe and mouing, 'tis for the purpose.
Soran.
Be witnesse to my words thy soule and thoughts,
And tell mee didst not thinke that in my heart,
I did too superstitiously adore thee.
Anna.
I must confesse, I know you lou'd mee well.
Soran.
And wouldst thou vse mee thus? O Annabella,
Bee thus assur'd, whatsor're the Villaine was,
That thus hath tempted thee to This disgrace,
Well hee might lust, but neuer lou'd like mee:
Hee doated on the picture that hung out
Vpon thy cheekes, to please his humourous eye;
Not on the part I lou'd, which was thy heart,
And as I thought, thy Vertues.
Anna.
O my Lord!
These words wound deeper then your Sword could do.
Vas.
Let mee not euer take comfort, but I begin to weepe my selfe, so much I pitty him; why Madam I knew when his rage was ouer-past, what it would come to.
Soran.
Forgiue mee Annabella, though thy youth
Hath tempted thee aboue thy strength to folly,
Yet will not I forget what I should bee,
And what I am, a husband; in that name
Is hid Deuinity; if I doe finde
That thou wilt yet be true, here I remit all former faults, and take thee to my bosome.
Vas.
By my troth, and that's a poynt of noble charity.
Anna.
[Page]
Sir on my knees—
Soran.
Rise vp, you shall not kneele,
Get you to your chamber, see you make no shew
Of alteration, I [...]le be with you streight;
My reason tells mee now, that 'Tis as common
To erre in frailty as to bee a woeman,
Goe to your chamber.
Exit Anna.
Vas.

So, this was somewhat to the matter; what doe you thinke of your heauen of happinesse now sir?

Soran.
I carry hell about mee, all my blood
Is fir'd in swift reuenge.
Vas.

That may bee, but know you how, or on whom? alas, to marry a great woeman, being made great in the stocke to your hand, is a vsuall sport in these dayes; but to know what Secret it was that haunted your Cunny-berry, there's the cunning.

Soran.
I'le make her tell her selfe, or—
Vas.

Or what? you must not doeso, let me yet perswade your sufferance a little while, goe to her, vse her mildly, winne her if it be possible to a Voluntary, to a weeping tune; for the rest, if all hitt, I will not misse my marke; pray sir goe in, the next news I tell you shall be wonders.

Soran.

Delay in vengeance giues a heauyer blow.

Exit.
Vas,

Ah sirrah, here's worke for the nonce; I had a suspici­on of a bad matter in my head a pretty whiles agoe; but after My Madams scuruy lookes here at home, her waspish peruersnesse, and loud fault-finding, then I remembred the Prouerbe, that Where Hens crowe, and Cocks hold their peace, there are sorry houses; sfoot, if the lower parts of a Shee-taylors Cunning, can couer such a swelling in the stomacke, I'le neuer blame a false stich in a shoe whiles I li [...]e againe; vp and vp so quicke? and so quickly too? 'twere a fine policy to lear [...]e by whom this must be knowne: and I haue thought on't—here's the way or none—what crying old Mistresse! alas, alas, I cannot blame 'ee, wee haue a Lord, Heauen helpe vs, is so madde as the devill himselfe, the more shame for him.

Enter Putana.
Put.
O Vasques, that euer I was borne to see this day,
[Page]Doth hee vse thee so too, sometimes Vasques?
Vas.

Mee? why hee makes a dogge of mee; but if some were of my minde, I know what wee would doe; as sure as I am an honest man, hee will goe neere to kill my Lady with vnkindnesse; say shee be with-child, is that such a matter for a young woeman of her yeeres, to be blam'd for?

Put.

Alas good heart, it is against her will full sore.

Vas.

I durst be sworne, all his madnesse is, for that shee will not confesse whose 'tis, which hee will know, and when he doth know it, I am so well acquainted with his humour, that hee will forget all streight; well I could wish, shee would in plaine termes tell all, for that's the way indeed.

Put.

Doe you thinke so?

Vas.

Fo, I know't; prouided that hee did not winne her to't by force, hee was once in a mind, that you could tell, and ment to haue w [...]ung it out of you, but I somewhat pacified him for that [...] yet sure you know a great, deale.

Put.

Heauen forgiue vs all, I know a little Vasques.

Vas.

Why should you not? who else should? vpon my Con­science shee loues you dearely, and you would not betray her to any affliction for the world.

Put.

Not for all the world by my Faith and troth Vasques.

Vas.

'Twere pitty of your life if you should, but In this you should both releiue her present discomforts, pacifie my Lord, and gaine your selfe euer lasting loue and preferment.

Put.

Do'st thinke so Vasques?

Vas.

Nay I know't; sure 'twas some neere and entire friend.

Put.

'T was a deare friend indeed; but—

Vas.

But what? feare not to name him: my life betweene you and danger; faith I thinke 'twas no base Fellow.

Put.

Thou wilt stand betweene mee and harme [...]?

Vas.

V'ds pitty, what else; you shalbe rewarded too; trust me.

Put.

'Twas euen no worse then her owne brother.

Vas.

Her brother Giouanni I warrant'ee?

Put.

Euen hee Vasques; as braue a Gentleman as euer kist faire Lady; O they loue most perpetually.

Vas.

A braue Gentleman indeed, why therein I Commend [Page]her choyce—better and better—you are sure 'twas hee?

Put.

Sure; and you shall'see hee will not be long from her too.

Vas.

He were to blame if he would: but may I beleeue thee?

Put.

Beleeue mee! why do'st thinke I am a Turke or a Iew? no Vasques, I haue knowne their dealings too long to belye them now.

Vas.

Where are you? there within sirs?

Enter Bandetti.
Put.

How now, what are these?

Vas.
You shall know presently,
Come sirs, take mee This old Damnable hagge,
Gag her instant [...]y, and put out her eyes, quickly, quickly.
Put.
Vasques, Vasques.
Vas.

Gag her I say sf [...]ot d'ee suffer her to prate? what d'ee fumble about? let mee come to her, I'le helpe your old gums, you Toad-bellied bi [...]ch; sirs, carry her closely into the Coale­house, and put out her eyes instantly, if shee roares, slitt her nose; d'ee heare, bee speedy and sure. Why this is excellent and aboue expectation.

Exit with Putana.

Her owne brother? O horrible! to what a height of liberty in damnation hath the Deuill trayn'dour age, her Brother, well; there's yet but a beginning, I must to my Lord, and tutor him better in his points of vengeance; now I see how a smooth tale goes beyond a smooth tayle, but soft,— what thing comes next?

Enter Giouanni.
Giouanni! as I would wish; my beleefe is strengthned,
'Tis as firme as Winter and Summer.
Gio.
Where's my Sister?
Vas.
Troubled with a new sicknes my Lord she's somwhat ill.
Gio.
T [...]th too much of the flesh I beleeue.
Vas.
T [...]th sir and you I thinke hauee'ne hitt it,
But My vertuous Lady.
Gio.
Where's shee?
Vas.

In her chamber; please you visit her; she is alone, your li­berality hath doubly made me your seruant, and euer shal euer—

Exit Gio.

Sir, I am made a man, I haue plyed my Cue with cunning

Enter So­ranzo.

[Page] and successe, I beseech you let's be priuate.

Soran,
My Ladyes brother's come, now hee'le know all.
Vas.
Let him know't, I haue made some of them fast enough,
How haue you delt with my Lady?
Soran [...]
Gently, as thou hast counsail'd; O my soule
Runs circular in sorrow for reuenge,
But Vasques, thou shalt know—
Vas.

Nay, I will know no more; for now comes your turne to know; I would not talke so openly with you: Let my young Maister take time enough, and goe at pleasure; hee is sold to death, and the Deuill shall not ransome him, Sir I beseech you, your priuacy.

Soran.

No Conquest can gayne glory of my feare.

Exit.

Actus Quintus.

Enter Annabella aboue.
Anna.
Pleasures farwell, and all yee thriftlesse minutes,
Wherein False ioyes haue spun a weary life,
To these my Fortunes now I take my leaue.
Thou Precious Time, that swiftly rid'st in poast
Ouer the world, to finish vp the race
Of my last fate; here stay thy restlesse course,
And beare to Ages that are yet vnborne,
A wretched woefull woemans Tragedy,
My Conscience now stands vp against my lust
With dispositions charectred in guilt,
Enter Fryar.
And tells mee I am lost: Now I confesse,
Beauty that cloathes the out-side of the face,
Is cursed if it be not eloath'd with grace:
Here like a Turtle (mew'd vp in a Cage)
Vn-mated, I conuerse with Ayre and walls,
And descant on my vild vnhappinesse.
O Giouanni, that hast had the spoyle
[Page]Of thine owne vertues and my modest fame,
Would thou hadst beene lesse subiect to those Stars
That luckelesse raign'd at my Natiuity:
O would the scourge due to my blacke offence
Might passe from thee, that I alone might feele [...]
The torment of an vncontrouled flame.
Fry.
What's this I heare?
Anna.
That man, that Blessed Fryar,
Who ioynd in Ceremoniall knot my hand
To him whose wife I now am; told mee oft,
I troad the path to death, and shewed mee how.
But they who sleepe in Lethargies of Lust
Hugg [...] their confusion, making Heauen v [...]ius [...],
And so did I.
Fry.
Here's Musicke to the soule.
Anna.
Forgiue mee my Good Genius, and this once
Be helpfull to my ends; Let some good man
Passe this way, to whose trust I may commit
This paper double lin'd with teares and blood:
Which being granted; here I sadly vow
Repentance, and a leauing of that life
I long haue dyed in.
Fry.
Lady, Heauen hath heard you,
And hath by prouidence ordain'd, that I
should be his Minister for your behoofe.
Anna.
Ha, what are you?
Fry.
Your brothers friend the Fryar;
Glad in my soule that I haue liu'd to heare
This free confession twixt your peace and you,
What would you or to whom? feare not to speake.
Anna.
Is Heauen so bountifull? then I haue found
More fauour then I hop'd; here Holy man—Throwes a letter,
Commend mee to my Brother giue him that,
That Letter; bid him read it and repent,
Tell him that I (imprison'd in my chamber,
Bard of all company, euen of My Guardian,
Who giues me cause of much suspect) haue time
[Page]To blush at what hath past: bidd him be wise,
And not beleeue the Friendship of my Lord,
I feare much more then I can speake: Good father,
The place is dangerous, and spyes are busie,
I must breake off—you'le doe't?
Fry.
Be sure I will;
And fly with speede—my blessing euer rest
With thee my daughter, liue to dye more blessed.
Exit Fry.
Anna.
Thanks to the heauens, who haue prolong'd my breath
To this good vse: Now I can welcome Death.
Exit.
Enter Soranzo and Vasques.
Vas.

Am I to be beleeu'd now?

First, marry a strumpet that cast her selfe away vpon you but to laugh at your hornes? to feast on your disgrace, riott in your vex­ations, cuckold you in your bride-bed, waste your estate vpon Panders and Bawds?

Soran.
No more, I say no more.
Vas.
A Cuckold is a goodly tame beast my Lord.
Soran.
I am resolu'd; vrge not another word,
My thoughts are great, and all as resolute
As thunder; in meane time I'le cause our Lady
To decke her selfe in all her bridall Robes,
Kisse her, and fold her gently in my armes.
Begone; yet heare you, are the Bandetti ready
To waite in Ambush?
Vas.

Good Sir, trouble not your selfe about other busines, then your owne resolution; remember that time lost cannot be recal'd.

Soran.
With all the cunning words thou canst, inuite
The States of Parma to my Birth-dayes feast,
Haste to my Brother riuall and his Father,
Entreate them gently, bidd them not to fayle,
Bee speedy and returne.
Vas.
Let not your pitty betray you, till my comming backe,
Thinke vpon Incest and Cuckoldry.
Soran.
Reuenge is all the Ambition I aspire,
To that I'le clime or fall; my blood's on fire.
Exeunt.
[Page] Enter Giouanni.
Gio.
Busie opinion is an idle Foole,
That as a Schoole-rod keepes a child in awe,
Frights the vnexperienc't temper of the mind:
So did it mee; who ere My precious Sister
Was married, thought all tast of loue would dye
In such a Contract; but I finde no change
Of pleasure in this formall law of sports.
Shee is still one to mee, and euery kisse
As sweet, and as delicious as the first
I reap't; when yet the priuiledge of youth
Intitled her a Virgine. O the glory
Of two vnited hearts like hers and mine!
Let Poaring booke-men dreame of other worlds,
My world, and all of happinesse is here,
And I'de not change it for the best to come,
A life of pleasure is Elyzeum.
Enter Fryar.
Father, you enter on the Iubile
Of my retyr'd delights; Now I can tell you,
The hell you oft haue prompted, is nought else
But slauish and fond superstitious feare;
And I could proue it too—
Fry.
Thy blindnesse slayes thee,
Looke there, 'tis writt to thee.
Giues the Letter.
Gio.
From whom?.
Fry.
Vnrip the seales and see:
The blood's yet seething hot, that will anon
Be frozen harder then congeal'd Corrall.
Why d'ee change colour sonne?
Gio.
Fore Heauen you make
Some petty Deuill factor 'twixt my loue
And your relligion-masked sorceries.
Where had you this?
Fry.
Thy Conscience youth is sear'd,
Else thou wouldst stoope to warning.
Gio.
'Tis her hand,
[Page]I know't; and 'tis all written in her blood.
She writes I know not what; Death? I'le not feare
An armed thunder-bolt aym'd at my heart.
Shee writes wee are discouered, [...] o [...] dreames
Of lowe faint-hearted Cowardise: discouered?
The Deuill wee are; which way is't possible?
Are wee growne Traytoms to our owne delights?
Confusion take such d [...]ge, 'tis but forg'd,
This is your peeuish chattering weake old man,
Now sir, what newes bring you?
Enter Vasques.
Vas.

My Lord, according to his yearely custome keeping this day a Feast in honour of his Birth-day, by mee inuites you thi­ther; your worthy Father with the Popes reuerend Nuntio, and other Magni [...]ico's of Parma, haue promis'd their presence, wil [...] please you to be of the number?

Gio.
Yes, tell them I dare come.
Vas.
Dare come?
Gio.
So I sayd; and tell him more I will come.
Vas.
These words are strange to mee.
Gio.
Say I will come.
Vas.
You will not misse?
Gio.
Yet more, I'le come; sir, are you answer'd?
Vas.
So I'le say—my seruice to you [...]
Exit Vas.
Fry.
You will [...] goe I trust.
Gio.
Not goe? for what?
Fry.
O doe not goe, this feast (I'le gage my life)
Is but a plot to trayne you to your ruine,
Be rul'd, you sha'not goe.
Gio.
Not goe? stood Death
Threatning his armies of confounding plagues,
With [...]o [...]sts of dangers hot as blazing Starrs,
I would be there; not goe? yes and resolue
To strike as deepe in slaughter as they all.
For I will goe.
Fry.
Goe where thou wilt, I see
The wildnesse of thy Fare drawes to an end,
[Page]To a bad fearefull end; I must not stay
To know thy fall, backe to Bononia I
With speed will haste, and shun this comming blowe.
Parma farwell, would I had neuer knowne thee,
Or ought of thine; well Youngman, since no prayer
Can make thee safe, I leaue thee to despayre.
Exit Fry.
Despaire or tortures of a thousand hells
All's one to mee; I haue set vp my rest.
Now, n [...]w, worke serious thoughts on banefull plots
Be all a man my soule; let not the Curse
Of old prescription rent from mee the gall
Of Courage, which inrolls a glorious death.
If I must totter like a well-growne Oake,
Some vnder shrubs shall in my weighty fall
Be crusht to splitts: with me they all shall perish.
Exit.
Enter Soranzo, Vasques, and Bandetti.
Soran.
You will not [...]ayle, or shrinke in the attempt?
Vas.

I will vndertake for their parts; be sure my Maisters to be bloody enough, and as vnmercifull, as if you were praying vpon a rich booty on the very Mountaines of Liguria; for your pardons trust to my Lord; but for reward you shall trust none but your owne pockets.

Ban. omnes.
Wee'le make a murther.
Soran.

Here's gold, here's more; want nothing, what you do is noble, and an act of braue reuenge.

I'le make yee rich Bandetti and all Free.

Omnes.

Liberty, liberty.

Vas.
Hold, take euery man a Vizard; when yee are with drawne, keepe as much silence as you can possibly: you know the watch-word, till which be spoken moue not, but when you heare that, rush in like a stormy-flood; I neede not instruct yee in your owne profession.
Omnes.
No, no, no.
Vas.
In then, your ends are profit and preferment—away.
Exit Ban­detti.
Soran.
The guests will all come Vasques?
Vas.

Yes sir, [Page] and now let me a little edge your resolution; you see nothing is vnready to this Great worke, but a great mind in you: Call to your remembrance your disgraces, your losse of Honour, Hippolita's blood; and arme your courage in your owne wrongs, so shall you best right those wrongs in vengeance which you may truely call Your owne.

Soran.

'Tis well; the lesse I speake, the more I burne, and blood shall quench that flame.

Vas.

Now you begin to turne Italian, this beside, when my young Incest-monger comes, hee wilbe sharpe set on his old bitt: giue him time enough, let him haue your Chamber and bed at li­berty; let my Hot Hare haue law ere he be hunted to his death, that if it be possible, hee may poast to Hell in the very Act of his damnation.

Enter Gio­uanni.
Soran.
It shall be so; and see as wee would wish,
Hee comes himselfe first; welcome my Much-lou'd brother,
Now I perceiue you honour me; y'are welcome,
But where's my father?
Gio.
With the other States,
Attending on the Nuntio of the Pope
To waite vpon him hither; how's my sister?
Soran.
Like a good huswife scarcely ready yet,
Y'are best walke to her chamber.
Gio.
If you will.
Soran.
I must expect my honourable Friends,
Good brother get her fort [...].
Gio.
You are busie Sir.
Exit Giouanni.
Vas.

Euen as the great Deuill himselfe would haue it, let him goe and glut himselfe in his owne destruction; harke, the Nuncio is at hand; good sir be ready to receiue him.

Florish.
Enter Cardinall, Florio, Donado, Richardetto and Attendants.
Soran.
Most reuerend Lord, this grace hath made me proud,
That you vouchsafe my house; I euer rest
Your humble seruant for this Noble Fauour.
Car.
You are our Friend my Lord, [...]is holinesse
[Page]Shall vnderstand, how zealously you honour [...]
Saint Peters Vicar in his substitute
Our speciall loue to you.
Soran.
Signiors to you
My welcome, and my euer best of thanks
For this so memorable court [...]sie,
Pleaseth your Grace to walke neere?
Car.
My Lord, wee come
To celebrate your Feast with Ciuill mirth,
[...]s ancient custome teacheth: wee will goe.
Soran.
Attend his grace there, Signiors keepe your way.
Exeūt
Enter Giouanni and Annabella lying on a bed.
Gio.
What chang'd so soone? hath your new sprightly Lord [...]
Found out a tricke in night-games more then wee
Could know in our simplicity? ha! is't so?
Or does the fitt come on you, to proue treacherous
To your past vowes and oathes?
Anna.
Why should you jeast
At my Calamity, without all sence
Of the approaching dangers you are in?
Gio.
What danger's halfe so great as thy reuolt?
Thou art a faithlesse sister, else thou know'st,
Malice, or any treachery beside
Would stoope to my bent-browes; why I hold Fa [...]e
Clasp't in my fist, and could Command the Course
Of times eternall motion; hadst thou beene,
One thought more steddy then an ebbing Sea.
And what? you'le now be honest, that's resolu'd?
Anna.
Brother, deare brother, know what I haue beene;
And know that now there's but a dying time
Twixt vs and our Confusion: let's not waste
These precious houres in vayne and vselesse speech.
Alas, these gay attyres were not put on
But to some end; this suddaine solemne Feast
Was not ordayn'd to riott in expence:
[Page] [...]hat haue now beene chambred here alone,
B [...]rd of my Guardian, or of any else,
Am not for nothing at an instant free'd
To fresh accesse; be not deceiu'd My Brother,
This Banquet is an harbinger of Death
To you and mee, resolue your selfe it is,
And be prepar'd to welcome it.
Gio.
Well then,
The Schoole-men teach that all this Globe of earth
Shalbe consum'd to ashes in a minute.
Anna.
So I haue read too.
Gio.
But 'twere somewhat strange
To see the Waters burne, could I beleeue
This might be true, I could beleeue as well
There might be hell or Heauen.
Anna.
That's most certaine.
Gio
A dreame, a dreame; else in this other world
Wee should know one another.
Anna.
So wee shall.
Gio.
Haue you heard so?
Anna.
For certaine.
Gio.
But d'ee thinke,
That I shall see you there,
You looke on mee,
May wee kisse one another,
Prate or laugh,
Or doe as wee doe here?
Anna.
I know not that,
But good for the present, what d'ee meane
To free your selfe from danger? some way, thinke
How to escape; I'me sure the guests are come.
Gio.
Looke vp, looke here; what see you in my face?
Anna.
Distraction and a troubled Countenance.
Gio.
Death and a swift repining wrath—yet looke,
What see you in mine eyes?
Anna.
Methinkes you weepe.
Gio.
I doe indeede; these are the funerall teares
[Page]Shed on your graue, these furrowed vp my cheekes
When first I lou'd and knew not how to woe.
Faire Annabella, should I here repeate
The Story of my life, wee might loose time.
Be record all the spirits of the Ayre,
And all things else that are; that Day and Night,
Earely and late, the tribute which my heart
Hath paid to Annabella's sacred loue,
Hath been these teares, which are her mourners now:
Neuer till now did Nature doe her best,
To shew a matchlesse beauty to the world,
Which in an instant, ere it scarse was seene,
The jealous Destinies require againe.
Pray Annabella, pray; since wee must part,
Goe thou white in thy soule, to fill a Throne
Of Innocence and Sanctity in Heauen.
Pray, pray my Sister.
Anna.
Then I see your drift,
Yee blessed Angels, guard mee.
Gio.
So say I,
Kisse mee; if euer after times should heare
Of our fast-knit affections, though perhaps
The Lawes of Conscience and of Ci [...]ill vse
May iustly blame vs, yet when they but know
Our loues, That loue will wipe away that rigour,
Which would in other Incests bee abhorr'd.
Giue mee your hand; how sweetely Life doth runne
In these well col [...]ured veines! how constantly
These Palmes doe promise health! but I could chide
With Nature for this Cunning flattery,
Kisse mee againe—forgiue mee.
Anna.
With my heart.
Gio.
Farwell.
Anna.
Will you begone?
Gio.
Be darke bright Sunne,
And make this mid-day night, that thy guilt rayes
May not behold a deed, will turne their splendour
[Page]More sooty, then the Poets faigne their Stix.
One other kisse my Sister.
Anna.
What meanes this?
Gio.
To saue thy fame and kill thee in a kisse.
stabs her.
Thus dye, and dye by mee, and by my hand,
[...]enge is mine; Honour doth loue Command.
Anna.
Oh brother by your hand?
Gio.
When thou art dead:
I'le giue my reasons for't; for to dispute
With thy (euen in thy death) most louely beauty,
Would make mee stagger to performe this act
Which I most glory in.
Anna.
Forgiue him Heauen—and me my sinnes, farwell.
Brother vnkind, vnkind—mercy great Heauen—oh—oh.
Dyes.
Gio.
Shee's dead, alas good soule; The haplesse Fruite
That in her wombe receiu'd its life from mee,
Hath had from mee a Cradle and a Graue.
I must not dally, this sad Marriage-bed
In all her best, bore her aliue and dead.
Soranzo thou hast mist thy ayme in this,
I haue preuented now thy reaching plots,
And kil'd a Loue, for whose each drop of blood
I would haue pawn'd my heart; Fayre Annabella,
How ouer-glorious art thou in thy wounds,
Tryumphing ouer infamy and hate!
Shrinke not Couragious hand, stand vp my heart,
And boldly act my last, and greater part.
Exit with the Body.
A Banquet.
Enter Cardinall, Florio, Donado, Soranzo, Richardetto, Vas­ques and attendants; They take their places.
Vas.
Remember Sir what you haue to do, be wise and resolu [...]e.
Soran.
Enough—my heart is fix't, pleaseth Your Grace
To taste these Course Confections; though the vse
Of such set enterteyments more consists
In Custome, then in Cause; yet Reuerend Sir,
I am still made your seruant by your presence.
Car.
[Page]
And wee your Friend.
Soran.
But where's my Brother Giouanni?
Enter Giouanni with at heart vpon his Dagger.
Gio.
Here, here Soranzo; trim'd in ree [...]ing blood,
That tryumphs ouer death; proud in the spoyle
Of Loue and Vengeance, Fate or all the Powers
That guide the motions of immortall Soules
Could not preuent mee.
Car.
What meanes this?
Flo.
Sonne Giouanni?
Soran.
Shall I be forestall'd?
Gio.
Be not amaz'd: If your misgiuing hearts
Shrinke at an idle sight; what bloodlesse Feare
Of Coward passion would haue ceaz'd your sences,
Had you beheld the Rape of Life and Beauty
Which I haue acted? my sister, oh my sister,
Flo.
Ha! What of her?
Gio.
The Glory of my Deed
Darkned the mid-day Sunne, made Noone as Night.
You came to feast My Lords with dainty fare,
I came to feast too, but I dig'd for food
In a much richer Myne then Gold or Stone
Of any value ballanc't; 'tis a Heart,
A Heart my Lords, in which is mine intomb'd,
Looke well vpon't; d'ee know't?
Vas.
What strange ridle's this?
Gio.
'Tis Annabella's Heart, 'tis; why d'ee startle?
I vow 'tis hers, this Daggers poynt plow'd vp
Her fruitefull wombe, and left to mee the fame
Of a most glorious executioner.
Flo.
Why mad-man, art thy selfe?
Gio.
Yes Father, and that times to come may know,
How as my Fate I honoured my reuenge:
Li [...]t Father, to your eares I will yeeld vp
How much I haue deseru'd to bee your sonne.
Flo.
What is't thou say'st?
Gio.
[Page]
Nine Moones haue had their changes,
Since I first throughly view'd and truely lou'd
Your Daughter and my Sister.
Flo.
How! alas my Lords, hee's a frantick mad-man!
Gio.
Father no;
For nine Moneths f [...]ace, in secret I enjoy'd
Sweete Annabella's sheetes; Nine Moneths I liu'd
A happy Monarch of her heart and her,
Soranzo, thou know'st this; thy paler cheeke
Beares the Confounding print of thy disgrace,
For her too fruitfull wombe too soone bewray'd [...]
The happy passage of our stolne delights,
And made her Mother to a Child vnborne.
Car.
Incestuous Villaine.
Flo.
Oh his rage belyes him.
Gio.
It does not, 'tis the Oracle of truth,
I vow it is so.
Soran.
I shall burst with fury,
Bring the strumpet forth.
Vas.
I shall Sir.
Exit Vas.
Gio.
Doe sir, haue you all no faith
To credit yet my Triumphs? here I sweare
By all that you call sacred, by the loue
I bore my Annabella whil'st she liu'd,
These hands haue from her bosome ript this heart.
Is't true or no sir?
Enter Vas.
Vas.
'Tis most strangely true.
Flo.
Cursed man—haue I liu'd to—
Dyes.
Car.
Hold vp Florio,
Monster of Children, see what thou hast done,
Broake thy old Fathers heart; is none of you
Dares venter on him?
Gio.
Let 'em; oh my Father,
How well his death becomes him in his griefes!
Why this was done with Courage; now survines
None of our house but I, guilt in the blood
Of a Fayre sister and a Haplesse Father.
Soran.
[Page]
Inhamane scorne of men, hast thou a thought
T'out liue thy murthers?
Gio.
Yes, I tell thee yes;
For in my fists I beare the twists of life,
Soranzo, see this heart which was thy wiues,
Thus I exchange it royally for thine,
And thus and thus, now braue reuenge is mine.
Vas.
I cannot hold any longer; you sir, are you growne inso­lent in your butcheries? haue at you.
Fight.
Gio.
Come, I am arm'd to meete thee.
Vas.
No, will it not be yet? if this will not, another shall,
Not yet; I shall fitt you anon—
Vengeance.
Enter Bandetti.
Gio.
Welcome, come more of you what e're you be,
I dare your worst—
Oh I can stand no longer, Feeble armes
Haue you so soone lost strength.
Vas.
Now, you are welcome Sir,
Away my Maisters, all is done,
Shift for your selues, your reward is your owne,
Shift for your selues.
Ban.
Away, away.
Exeunt Bandetti.
Vas.
How d'ee my Lord, see you this? how is't?
Soran.
Dead; but in death well pleased, that I haue liu'd
To see my wrongs reueng'd on that Blacke Deuill.
O Vasques, to thy bosome let mee giue
My last of breath, let not that Lecher liue—oh
Dyes.
Vas.
The Reward of peace and rest be with him,
My euer dearest Lord and Maister.
Gio.
Whose hand gaue mee this wound?
Vas.
Mine Sir, I was your first man, haue you enough?
Gio.
I thanke thee, thou hast done for me but what I would haue else done on my selfe, ar't sure thy Lord is dead?
Vas.
Oh Impudent slaue, as sure as I am sure to see the dye,
Car.
Thinke on thy life and end, and call for mercy.
Gio.
Mercy? why I haue found it in this Iustice.
Car.
Striue yet to cry to Heauen.
Gio.
[Page]
Oh I bleed fast,
Death, thou art a guest long look't for, I embrace
Thee and thy wouuds; oh my last minute comes.
Where e're I goe, let mee enjoy this grace,
Freely to view My Annabella's face.
Dyes.
Do.
Strange Miracle of Iustice!
Car.
Rayse vp the Citty, wee shall be murderedall.
Vas.
You neede not feare, you shall not; this strange taske be­ing ended, I haue paid the Duty to the Sonne, which I haue vow­ed to the Father.
Car.
Speake wretched Villaine, what incarnate Feind
Hath led thee on to this?
Vas.

Honesty, and pitty of my Maisters wrongs; for know My Lord. I am by birth a Spaniard, brought forth my Coun­trey in my youth by Lord Soranzo's Father; whom whil'st he li­ued, I seru'd faithfully; since whose death I haue beene to this man, as I was to him; what I haue done was duty, and I repent nothing, but that the losse of my life had not ransom'd his.

Car.
Say Fellow, know'st thou any yet vnnam'd
Of Counsell in this Incest?
Vas.
Yes, an old woeman, sometimes Guardian to this mur­thered Lady.
Car.
And what's become of her?
Vas.

Within this Roome shee is, whose eyes after her con­fession I caus'd to be put out, but kept aliue, to confirme what from Giouanni's owne mouth you haue heard: now My Lord, what I haue done, you may Iudge of, and let your owne wise­dome bee a judge in your owne reason.

Car.
Peace; First this woeman chiefe in these effects,
My sentence is, that forthwith shee be tane
Out of the City, for examples sake,
There to be burnt to ashes.
Do.
'Tis most iust.
Car.
Be it your charge Donado, see it done.
Do.
I shall.
Vas.
What for mee? if death, 'tis welcome, I haue beene ho­nest to the Sonne, as I was to the Father.
Car.
[Page]
Fellow, for thee; since what thou did'st, was doue
Not for thy selfe, being no Italian,
Wee banish thee for euer, to depart
Within three dayes, in this wee doe dispense
With grounds of reason not of thine offence.
Vas.
'Tis well; this Conquest is mine, and I reioyce that a
Spaniard out-went an Italian in reuenge.
Exit Vas.
Car.
Take vp these slaughtered bodies, see them buried,
And all the Gold and Iewells, or whatsoeuer,
Confiscate by the Canons of the Church,
Wee ceaze vpon to the Popes proper vse.
Richar.
Your Graces pardon, thus long I liu'd disguis'd
To see the effect of Pride and Lust at once
Brought both to shamefull ends.
Car.
What Richardetto whom wee thoughr for dead?
Do.
Sir was it you—
Richar.
Your friend.
Car.
Wee shall haue time
To talke at large of all, but neuer yet
Incest and Murther haue so strangely met.
Of one so young, so rich in Natures store,
Who could not say, 'Tis pitty shee's a Whoore?
Exeunt.
FINIS.

The generall Commendation deserued by the Actors, in their Presentment of this Tragedy, may easily excuse such few faults, as are escaped in the Printing: A common charity may allow him the ability of spelling, whom a se­cure confidence assures that hee cannot ignorantly erre in the Application of Sence.

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