The maides revenge A tragedy. As it hath beene acted with good applause at the private house in Drury Lane, by her Majesties Servants· VVritten by Iames Shirley Gent.

Author: Shirley, James, 1596-1666.1640

[Page]

THE MAIDES REVENGE.

A TRAGEDY.

As it hath beene Acted with good Applause at the private house in Drury Lane, her Majesties Servants.

Written by IAMES SHIRLEY Gent.

LONDON. Printed by T. C. for William Cooke, and are to be sold at his shop at Furnivalls Jnne Gate in Holbourne. 1639.

[Page]

The Actors names.

GAsper De Vilarezo, an old Count, Father to Sebastiano, Catalina and Berinthia Sebastiano, sonne to Vilarezo.
Antonio a lover of Berinthia, and friend to Sebastiano.
Valindras a k [...]nsman of Antonio.
[...]forza, a blunt Souldier.
Valasco, a lover of Berinthia.
Count de monte nigro, a braggar [...].
Diego, Servant to Antonio.
Signior Sharkino, a shirking Doctor.
Scarabeo, a Servant to Sharkino.
Daughters to Vilarezo.
- Catalina
- Berinthia
Castabella, Sister to Antonio.
Ansilva, a waiting gentle woman to the two Sister.
Nurse.
Servants.

[Page]

TO THE WORTHILY Honoured, Henry Osborne Esquire.

SIR,

TIll J be able to give you a better proofe of my service, let [...]ot this oblation be despised. It is a Tragedy which received encouragement and grace on the English Stage; and though it come late to the Impression, it was the second birth in this kinde, which I de [...]icated to the Scene, as you have Art to distinguish; you have mercy and a smile, if you finde a Poem infirme through want of age, and experience the mother of strength. It is many yeares since I see these papers, which make haste to kisse your hand; if you doe not accuse the boldnesse and pride of them; I will owne the child, and beleeve Tradition so farre, that you will receive no dishonour by the acceptance; I never affected the wayes of flattery: some say I have lost my preferment, by not practising that Court sinne; but if you dare beleeve, I much honour you, nor is it upon guesse, but the taste and knowledge of your abilitie and merit; and while the Court wherein you live, is fruitfull with Testimonies of your mind, my Character is seal'd up, when I have said that your vertue hath taken up a faire lodging. Read when you have leasure, and l [...]t the Author be fortunate to be knowne

Your Servant, IAMES SHIRLEY.

[Page]

A Catalogue of such things as hath beene Published by James Shirley Gent.

[Page]

THE MAIDES REVENG.

Actus. 1. Scaena 1.

Enter Sebestiano and Antonio.

Seb.

THe noble curtesies I have received

At Lisbone worthy friend, so much engage [...]

That I must dye endebted to your worth,

Vnlesse you mean to accept what I've studied.

Although but partly to discharge the summe▪.

Due to your honour'd love.

Ant.

How now Sebastiano will you forfeit

The name of friend then I did hope our love

Had outgrowne complement.

Seb.

I speake my thoughts,

My tongue and heart are relatives, I thinke

I have deserved no base opinion from you;

I wish not onely to perpetuate

Our friendship, but to exchange that common name

Of friend, for

Ant.

What? take heede, do not prophane;

Wouldst thou be more then friend? It is a name,

Vertue can onely answer to, couldst thou

Vnite into one, all goodnesse whatsoe're

[Page]Mortality can boast of, thou shalt finde,.

The circle narrow bounded to containe

This swelling treasure; every good admits

Degrees, but this being so good it cannot:

For he's no friend is not s [...]perlative,

Indulgent parents, brethre [...], kindred, tied

By the naturall flow of blood; alliances,

And what you can imagine, is to light,

To weigh with name of friend: they execute

At best, but what a nature pron [...]e'm to,

Are often lesse then friends, whe [...] they remaine

[...]ur kinsmen still, but friend is never lost.

Seb.

Nay then Antonio you mistake, I meane not

To leave of friend, which with another title

Would not be lost, come them Ile tell you Sir,

I would be friend and brother, thus our friendshi [...]

Shall like a diamond set in gold not loose

His sparkling, but shew fairer; I have a paire

Of sisters, which I would commend, but that

I might seeme partiall their birth and fortunes

Deserving noble love; if thou beest free

From other faire ingagement, I would be proud

To speake them worthy, come shalt go and see them▪

I would not beg them sutors, fame hath spred

Through Portugall their persons, and drawne to Ave [...]o.

Many affectionate gallants.

Ant.

Cata [...]lina and Berinthia

Seb.

The same.

Ant.

Repo [...]t speakes loud their beauties, and no less [...]

Vertue in either well, I see you strive

To leave no [...] where you meane to honour,

I [...] otherwise escape the censure

Of [...]ne ingratefull, but by waiting on you

Home to [...]ero

Seb.

You shall honour me,

And glad my noble Father, to whom you are

No stranger, your owne worth before, hath beene

[Page]Sufficient preparation.

Ant.

Ha?

I have not so much choise Sebastiane,

But if one S [...]ster of Antonios,

May have a commendation to your thoughts,

I will not spend much Art in praysing her,

Her vertue speake it selfe, I shall be happy,

And be confirmd you brother, though I misse

Acceptance at Avero.

Seb.

Still you out doe me, I could never wish

My service better plac'd, at opertunity

Ile visit you at Eluas, i'th meane time

Lets hast to Avero, where with you Ile bring

My double welcome, and not faile to second

Any designe.

Ant.

You shall teach me a lesson

Against we meete at Eluas Castle sit.

Exeunt.

Enter Gaspar de Vilarezo, and a Servant.

Vil.

What gallants [...]irra are they newly entred?

Ser.

Count de Monte Nigro my Lord, and Don Valasco,

Vil.

Give your observance then, I know their businesse;

Catalina and Berinthia are the starrs

Direct them hither, Gaspars house shall give

Respect to all, but they are two such Iewels,

I must dispose maturely, I should else

Returne ingratitude upon the heavens

For leaving me such pledges, not am I,

Like other fathers carried with the streame

Of love toth youngest, as they were in birth

They had my tendernesse, Catalina then

Is eldest in my care, Berinthia

Her childs part too, both faire and vertuous;

But daughters are held losses to a family,

Sonnes onely to maintaine honour and stemme

Alive in their posterity, and I now thinke on't,

My sonne Sebastiano hath beene slow

In his returne from Lisbone, oh that boy

Renewes my age with hope, and hath returnd

[Page]My care in educa [...]ion, weight for weight

With noble [...]ai [...]ty, will belov'd [...]th best

O [...]h Dons in Spaine and Portugall, whole loves

Do often threten his absence to such length

As [...] hath beene.

Ente [...] Coun [...] de [...]onte Nigro, and [...] ▪

[...] [...]eres my eldest daughter

With her amorous Count, Ile not be seene,

Exit.

Cata.

You have beene absent long my noble Count,

[...]eshrew me but I dreamt on you last night.

Count.

Ha ha, did you so, I tickle her in her sleep I perceive;

Sweete Lady I did but like the valiant beast,

Give a little ground, to returne with a greater

[...], now by my fathers sword

And gauntlet thart a pretio [...]s peece of vertue,

But p [...]ethee what didst dreame of me last night?

Cata.

Nay twas an idle dreame, not worth the repitition,

Count.

Thou dreamst I warrant thee, that I was fighting

For thee up to the knee [...] in blood, why I dare doo't,

Such dreames are common with Count de monte

Nigro, my sleepes are nothing else but rehearsals of

Battels and wounds and ambuscadoes, Donzell Delphebo

Was [...] of vallour, R [...]sicbeere a pu [...]fe;

My dreames deserve to be ith Chronicles,

Cata.

Why, now my dreame is out,

Count.

What?

Cata.

I dreamt that you were [...]ighting.

Count.

So.

Cata.

And that in single combate, for my sake

You slew a giant, and you no sooner had

Re [...]cued my honour, but there crept a pigmee

Out of the earth, and kild you.

Count.

Very likely, the valliantst man must dye,

Cata,

What by a pigmee?

Count.

I, thats another giant, I remember Hercules

Had a conflict with'em, oh my Dona

[...]atalina I well would I were so happy once to

Maintaine some honourable duell for thy sake, I shall

Nere be well, till I have kild some body; fight, tis true

[Page]I have never yet flesht my selfe in blood▪ no body

Would quarell with me, but I fi [...]de my spiri [...] prompt

If occasion would but winke at me, why not [...] has

Nature given me these brawny armes, this manly bulke,

And these Collossian supporters nothing but to [...]ling

The sledge, or pitch the bare, and play with

Ax [...]etrees; if thou lovest me, do but command me

Some worthy service; pox a dangers I weigh 'em [...]

More than fleabitings, would some body did hate that

Face, now I wish it with all my heart.

Cata.

Would you have any body hate me?

Count.

Yes, Ide hate 'em, Ide but thrust my hand into their

Mouth downe to the bottome of their bellies, plucke

Out their lungs and shake their insides outward.

Enter Berinthia and Valasco,

Ber.

Noble Sir, you neede not heape more protestations,

I do beleeve you love me,

Val.

Doe you beleeve I love, and not accept it?

Ber.

Yes I accept it too, but apprehend me

As men doe guifts, whose acceptation does not

Binde to per [...]orme what every giver craves;

Without a staine to virgin modesty

I can accept your love, but pardon me,

It is beyond my power to grant your suite.

Val.

Oh you too much subject a naturall guift,

And make your selfe beholding for your owne:

The Sunne hath not more right to his owne beames,

With which he gildes the day, nor the Sea lord

Of his owne wa [...]es.

Ber.

Alasse, what ist to owne a passion

Without power to direct it, for I move,

Not by a motion I can call my owne,

But by a higher r [...]pture, in obedience

To a father, and I have yet no freedome

To place affection, so you but endeere me

Without a merit.

Cata.

Here my sister.

C [...]

[Page]

And Don Valasco, how now, are thy arrowes feathred?

Val.

Well enough for roving.

C [...]

Roving I thought to.

[...]

[...] hope faire.

[...]

[...] home then, Valasco I have

[...] my miseris with a paper of verses, see she

[...] 'em.

[...]

[...] make em thy selfe

[...]

[...] money did, what an idle question is that? as tho we

That are great men, are not furnished with stipendary

[...] am sure for my owne part I can buy 'em

Cheape [...] can make 'em a great deale, would

You have learning have no reward, she laughs

[...] am glad of that.

[...]

They [...]our o [...] a true Poeticke fury.

Count

Do you smell nothing, something hath some savour.

[...]

But this li [...] my think hath more more feete than the rest.

[...]

[...] run the better for that Lady, I did it a purpose.

Ca [...]

But heres another lame.

Count.

That was my conceit, my owne invention, lame

Halting [...]ses, theres the greatest Art, besides I

T [...]hy give you to understand, that I am valiant,

[...] legs and armes at all times and make 'em

Goe halting home that are my enemies, I am

An [...]ambographier now it i [...] out.

Cata.

For honours sake what's that?

Count.

One of the sourest versifiers that ever crept out of

[...] when I set on't. I [...]n make any body hang himselfe

With [...] Iambick [...], I can fetch blood with Asce [...]p [...]ads

[...]st [...]ad [...] with hexameter and pentameter, and

Yet I have a trimeter [...] for thee my Dona Catalina

[...]

Conclude a peace sir with your passion.

I am sory love hath beene unkind to you.

To p [...] at me, who, till the first have knit

The sacred knot of marriage am forbid

To thinke of love.

Val.

[Page]

But I cannot desist,

I am in love with every thing you say,

This your deniall as it comes from you

Bids me still love you, pardon faire Berinthia,

Valasco hath not power to rule himselfe;

Be you lesse faire, or vertuous, perhaps

I may abate my service.

Enter Vilarezo, Sebestiano, and Antonio,

Vila.

Old Gaspars house is honourd by such guests,

Now by the tombe of my progenitors,

I envied, that your fame should visit me

So oft without your person, Sebestiano

Hath beene long happy in your noble friendship,

And cannot but improve himselfe in vertues,

That lives so neere your love.

Cata.

Don Antonio de Riviero.

Seb.

The same.

Cata.

With whose noble worth

You oft have fill'd discourse, thought your selfe happy

In his choyce friendship; if his body cary

So many graces, it is heaven within,

Where his soule is.

Vila,

Sebastiano, thou hast largely recompene'd

Thy tedious absence, you shall dishonour me,

Vnlesse you thinke your selfe as welcome here,

As at your Eluas Castle, Vilarezo

Was once as you are sprightly, and though I say it

Maintained my fathers reputation,

And honour of our house with actions

Worthy our name and family, but now,

Time hath let fall cold snow upon my haires,

Ploughed on my browes the furrowes of his anger

Disfurnishd me of active blood, and wrapt me

Halfe in my seare cloth, yet I have minde

That bids me honour vertue, where I see it

Bud forth and spring so hopefully,

Anto,

You speake all noblenesse, and encourage me

[Page]To spend the gre [...]nenesse of my rising yeares

So to [...], that at last I may

Be old like you.

[...]

Daughters speake his welcome, Catalina.

Cata

Sir, you are most welcome.

[...]

[...] she sayes he is most welcome, he were

Not best love her, she never made me such a reverence

For all the kisses I have bestowed upon her since

I first opened my affection, I do not like this

Follow, I mus be faire to use doctor Sharkins cunning,

[...]

I [...] we [...]e not truely noble to affront him;

My blood boyles in me, it shall I coole againe,

The place [...] venerable by her presence,

And I may be deceiv'd, Valasco then

Keepe [...] with thy feares.

A [...]t [...].

How now Antonio, where hast thou loft thy selfe?

Strucke dead with Ladies eyes? I could star-gaze

For ever thus, oh pardon love, gainst whom

I often have prophan'd, and mockd thy fires,

Thy flames now punish me, let me collect:

They are both excellent creatures, there is

A Majestie in Catalin [...]s eye, and every part carries ambition

Or Queene upon it, yet B [...]rinthi [...]s

[...] something more than all this praise, though she

Command the world, this hath more power ore me▪

Here I have lost my freedome, not the Queene

[...] could thus have wounded poore Antonio'

[...] speake to her; Lady I'm an Novice, [...] in love.

[...]

It may be so.

Anto.

She [...]ests at me, yet I should be proud to be

Your servant.

Ber.

I entertaine no servants that are proud.

[...].

Divine Berinthia!

Anto.

She checks my rudenesse that so openly

I [...]eeme to court her, and in presence too

[...] that have engaged themselves perhaps

[...] already.

Vila.

[Page]

Come let us in, my house spreads to receive you,

Which you may call your owne, Ile leade the way.

Cata.

Please you walke Sir.

Ant.

It will become me thus to waite on you.

Exeunt manet Count, and Valasco.

Count.

Does not the foole ride us both?

Val.

What foole? both, whom?

Count.

That foole, both us, we are but horses and may

Walke one another for ought I see before the doore, when he

Is alight and entred, I do not relish that same

Novice, he were not best gull me; harke you Don

Valasco, what shals doe?

Val.

Doe, why?

Count.

This Antonio is a sutor to one of 'em.

Val.

I feare him not.

Coun.

I do not feare him neither, I dare fight with him, and

He were ten Antonios, but the Ladies Do [...], the Ladies.

Val.

Berinthia, to whom

I pay my love devotions, in my eare

Seemd not to welcome him, your Lady did.

Coant.

I but for all that he had most mind to your [...],

And I do not see but if he pursue it,

There is a possibility to scale the fort, Ladies

Mindes may alter, by your favour, I have lesse

Cause to feare o'th two; if ht love not Catalin [...]

My game is free, and I may have a course in

Her Parke the more easily.

Val.

Tis true, he preferred service to Berinthia,

And what is she then to resist the vowes

Antonio if he love, dare heape upon her?

He's gracious with her father, and a friend

Deere as his bosome to Sebastiano,

And may be is directed by that brother

To aime at her, or if he make free choyce,

Berinthias beauty will draw up his soule.

Count.

And yet now I thinke on't, he was very sawey

With my love to support her arme, which she

[Page]Accepted too familiarly, and she should

But love him, it were as bad for me, for tho he care

Not for her, I am sure she will never abide me after it,

By this hilts I must kill him, theres no remedy,

I cannot helpe it.

Val.

Ile know my destiny.

Count.

And I my fate but here he comes.

Enter Antonio.

Ant.

The strangest resolution of a father

I ever heard, I was covetous

To acquaint him with my wishes, praid his leave

I might be servant to Berinthia,

But thus he briefly answered, untill

His eldest daughter were dispos'd in marriage

His youngest must not love, and therefore wisht me

Vnlesse I could place Catalina here,

Leave off soliciting, yet I was welcome,

[...]u [...]fed on nothing but Berinthia,

From whose faire eyes love threw a thousand flames

[...]nto Antonio [...] heart, her cheeks bewraying

As many amorous blushings, which brake out

Like a forc'd lightning from a troubled cloud,

Discovering a restraint, as if within

She were at conflict, which her colour onely

Tooke liberty to speake, but soone fell backe,

And as it were checkt by silence.

Cou.

Ile stay no longer, sir a word with you, are you desperat?

Ant.

Desperate, why sit?

Count.

I aske and you be desperate, are you weary of your

Life, and you be, say but the word; some body can tell

How to dispatch you without a physitian, at a minuits warning.

Ant [...].

You are thē noble Count de monte Nigro.

Count.

I care not a Spanish fig what you count me, I must

Call you to account sir; in briefe the Lady

Dona Catalina is my mistris, I do not meane to be bass [...]ed

While this toole has any steele in't, and I have some

Mettall in my selfe too.

Ant.

[Page]

The Dona Catalina? do you love her?

Enter Vila. Sebast. Cata. Ber.

She is a Lady in whom onely lives

Natures and Arts perfection, borne to shame

All former beauties, and to be the wonder

Of all succeeding, which shall fade and wither

When she is but remembred.

Count.

I can endure no more, Diablo, he is mortally in love

With Catalina.

Vala.

Tis so, he's tane with Catalinaes beautie.

Count▪

Sir I am a servant of that Lady, therefore eate up

Your words, or you shall be sensible that I am Coun [...]

De monte Nigro, and she's no dish for Don Antonio.

Ant.

Sir I will do you right.

Count.

Or I will right my selfe.

Cata.

He did direct those prayses unto me

This doth confirme it.

Ber.

He cannot so soone alter,

I shall discover a passion through my eyē ▪

Count.

Thou shewest thy selfe a noble Gentleman, the

Count is now thy friend.

Ant.

Does it become me sir, to prosecute

Where such a noble Count is interessed,

Vpon my soule I wish the Lady yours,

Here my suite fals, with tender of my servicē;

Would you were married, nay in bed together

My honourable Count.

Cata.

Your face is cloudy sir, as you suspected

Your presence were not welcome; had you naught

But title of a brothers friendship, it were

Enough to oblige us to you, but your worth

In Catalinaes eies, bids me proclaime you

A double acceptation.

Ant.

Oh you are bounteous Ladie.

Count.

Sir—

Ant.

Doe not feare me,

I am not worthie your opinion,

It shall be happinesse for me to kisse

[Page]This Ivory hand,

Count.

The whilst I kisse her lip and be immotall.

Seb.

Antonio my father is a rocke,

In that he first resolved, and I account it part of my

Owne unhappinesse, I hope you hold me not suspected,

Ant.

I were unworthy such a friend, his care

Becomes him nobly; has not younder Count

Some hope of Catalina.

Seb.

My father thinkes that sister worthy of

More than a bare Nobility.

Ant.

Ile backe to Eluas noble sir,

This entertainement is so much above

Antonio [...] merit, if I leave you not

I shall be out of hope to —

Vila.

Nay then you mocke me sir, you must not leave me

Without discourtesie so soone, we trissle time,

This night you are my guest, my honored Count,

My Don Val [...]sco.

Count.

Yes my Lord, wee'le follow.

Ant.

Ha I am resolv'd, like Barge-men when they row.

Ile looke auother way then that I goe.

Exeunt,

Actus 2. Scaena I.

Enter Catalina and Ansilvae.

Cata.

ANsilv [...] yon observe with curious eye

All Gentlemen that come hither, whats your opinion.

Of Don Antonio?

Ans.

My opinion Madam, I want Art.

To judge of him.

Cata.

Then without Art your judgement.

Ans.

He is one of the most accomplisht Gentlemen

Ansilva ere beheld, pardon Madam.

Cata.

Nay, it doth not displease, 'yare not alone,

He hath friends to second you, and who dost thinke

Is cause he tarrries here.

Ans.

Your noble father will not let him goe.

Cata.

[Page]

And canst thou see no higher? then thou art dull.

Ans.

Madam, I guesse at something more.

Cata.

What?

Ans.

Love?

Cata.

Of whom?

Ans.

I know not that.

Cata.

How not that? Thou'dst bring thy former truth

Into suspition, why tis more apparant

Then that he loves.

Ans.

If judging eyes may guide him,

I know where he should' chuse, but I have heard

That love is blind.

Cata.

Ha?

Ans.

Vertue would direct him Madam unto you, I know not his

Obedience, I shall repent if I offend.

Cata.

Tha'rt honest, be yet more free, hide not a thought that may concerne it.

Ans.

Then Madam I thinke he loves my Lady Berinthia;

I have observ'd his eyes rowle that way,

Even now I spied him

Close with her in the Arbour, pardon me Madam.

Cata.

Th'ast done me faithfull service, be yet more vigilant,

I know thou speakst all truth, I doe suspect him,

Exit Ans.

My sister, ha? Dare shee maintaine contention?

Is this the dutie bindes her to obey

A fathers precepts, tis dishonour to me.

Enter Ansilva.

Ans.

Madam, heres a pretty hansome stripling new alight,

Enquires for Don Antonio.

Cata.

Let me see him, 'twill give me good occasion to be

My owne observer;

Enter Diego,

Whom would you sir?

Die.

I am sent in quest of Antonio.

Cata.

He speakes like a Knight errant, he comes in quest,

Die.

I have heard it a little vertue in some Spanniels to

Quest now and then Lady.

Cata.

But you are none.

Die.

My Mr. cannot beate me from him Madam, I am one of

The oldest appurtenances belonging to him, and yet I

[Page]Have little mosse in my chinne.

Cata.

The more to come, a wittie knave.

Die.

No more wit then will keep my head warme, I beseech you amiable Virgin help my Master Antonio to some intelligence that a servant of his waits to speake with him from his sister Madona Castabella.

Cata.

It shall not neede sir, Ile give him notice my selfe,

Ansilva Entertaine time with him.

Exit.

Ans.

A promising young man.

Die.

Doe you waite on this Lady?

Ans.

Yes sir.

Die.

Wee are both of a tribe then, though wēe differ in our sexe, I beseech you taxe me not of immodesty, or want of breeding, that I did not salute you upon the first view of your person, this kisse be as good as presse-mony to bind me to your service.

Ans.

'Yare very welcome, by my virginity.

Exit.

Die.

Your virginitie a good word to save an oath, for all she made me a curs [...]e, it was not good manners to leave mee so soone 'yare very welcome by my virginity; was she afraid of breaking, it may be she is crack'd already, but here she is againe.

Enter Ansilva.

Ans.

May I begge your name sir?

Die.

No begger sweet, would you have it at length, then

My name is Signior Baltazaro Clere Mautado,

But for brevities sake they call me Diego.

Ans,

Then Signior Diego once more you are welcome [...].

Die.

Bazelez manes Signiora, and what my tongue is not able to expresse, my head shall; it seemes you have liv'd long a Virgin.

Ans.

Not above seven or eight and thirty yeares.

Die.

By Lady a tried Virgin, you have given the world

A large testimony of your virginity.

Enter Ant. Berin. and Catal.

Ber.

I should be thu [...] a disobedient daughter

A Fathers Hests are sacred.

Ant.

But in love

They have no power, it is but tyranny,

[Page]Plaine usurpation to command the minde

Against its owne election; I am yours,

Vow'd yours for ever, send me not away

Shipwrack'd ith' habour, say but you can love me,

And I will waite an age, not wish to move

But by commission from you, to whom

I render the possession of my selfe:

Ha? we are betrai'd, I must use cunning,

She lives in you, and take not in worse sence;

You are more gracious, in that you are

So like your eldest sister, in whom lives

The coppy of so much perfection,

All other seemē to imitate.

Cata.

Does he not praise me now?

Ant.

But here she is,

Madam, not finding you ith' garden,

I met this Lady.

Cata.

I came to tell you

A servant of yours attends with letters from

Your sister Madona Castabella.

Ant.

Diego what newes?

Die.

Sir, my Lady remembers her love, these letters informe you the state of all things.

Cata.

What serious conference had you sister with that Gentleman.

Ber.

Would you had heard them sister, they concern'd your Commendations.

Cata.

Why should he not deliver them to my selfe.

Ber.

It may be then

You would have thought he flattered.

Cata.

I like not this rebound,

Tis fairest to catch at fall.

Ber.

Sister, I hope

You have no suspition, I have courted

His stay or language on my life no accent

Fell from me, your owne eare would not have heard

With acceptation.

Cata.

It may be so, and yet I dare acquit you,

[Page]In duty to a Father, you would wish me

All due respect, I know it.

Ant.

Diego.

Die.

Sir.

Ant.

You observe the waiting creatures in the blacke,

Harke, you apprehend me.

Whisper.

Die.

With as much tenacity as a servant.

Cat.

I hope sir, now we shall enjoy you longe [...] ▪

Ant.

The gods would sonner be sicke with Nectar, than Antoni [...]

Crow weary of such faire societie;

But I am at home expected, a poore sister,

My fathers care alive, and dying was

His Legacy, having out-staid my time

Is tender of my absence.

Enter Vilarezo, Sebastiano, Count, and Valasco.

Cata.

My Lord Antonio meanes to take his leave.

Vila.

Although last night you were inclin'd to goe,

Let us prevaile this morning.

Cat.

A servant of his, he saies, brought letters

To hasten departure.

Vila.

Why sirra, will you rob us of your master.

Die.

Not guilty my Lord.

Count.

Sir, if you'le needs go, we'le bring you on your way.

Ant.

I humbly thank your honour, Ile not be so trouble some.

Count.

Would you were gone once, I doe not meane to trouble my selfe so much I warrant thee.

Ant.

I have now a charge upon me, I hope it may

Excuse me, if I hasten my returne.

Vila.

Tis faire, and reasonable, well sir, my sonne

Shall waite on you oth' way, if any occasion

Draw you to Avero, lets hope you'le see us,

You know your welcome.

Ant.

My Lord the favours done me, would proclaime

I were too much unworthy not to visit you,

Oft as I see Avero; Madam I part with some unhappinesse

To lose your presence, give me leave I may

Be absent your admirer, to whose memory

I write my selfe a servant,

Count.

Poxe on your complemênt, you were not best write

[Page] In her table-bookes.

Cata.

You doe not know

What power you have o're me, that but to please you

Can frame my selfe to take a leave so soone.

Vala.

What thinke you of that my Lord?

Count.

Why, she sayes she has power to take her leave

So soo [...]e, no hurt ath' world in't, I hope she is an

Innocent Lady.

To Berinth.

Ant.

The shallow rivers glide away with noise,

The deepe are silent, fare you well Lady.

Co [...]nt.

I told you he is a shallow fellow.

Vala.

I know not what to thinke on't Berinthia.

Ant.

Gentlemen happinesse and successe in your desires.

Seb.

Ile see you a league or two.

Vila.

By any meanes, nay sir.

Ant.

Diego.

Die.

My Lord I have a suite to you before I goe.

Vila.

To me Diego, prethee speake it.

Die.

That while other Gentlemen are happy to devide their affections among the Ladies, I may have your honours leave to beare some good-will to this Virgin: Cupid hath throwne a dart at me, like a blinde buzzard as he was, and theres no recovery without a cooler; if I be sent into these parts, I desire humbly I may be [...]ould to rub acquaintance with Mistresse Ansilva.

Vila.

With all my heart Diego.

Die.

Madam, I hope y [...]u will not be an enemy to a poore

Flye that is taken in the fl [...]me of the blind god.

Cata.

You shall have my consent sir.

Vila.

But what say a Ansilva, hast thou a mind to a husband?

Ans.

I feare I am too young seven yeares hence were time enough for me.

Seb.

Shees not full fortie yet sir.

Die.

I honour the Antiqu [...]tie of her maidenhead, thou

Mistresse of my heart.

Ant.

Come lets away Diego our horses—

Vila.

We'le bring you to the ga [...]e.

Count.

Yes, wee'le bring him out of doores, would wee [Page] were shut of him.

Exeunt. manet Ansilva.

Ans.

Hay ho, who would have thought I should have benne in love with a stripling, have I seene so many maiden-heades snffer before me, and must mine come to the blocke at fortie yeares old, if this Diego have the grace to come on, I shall have no power to keepe my selfe chast any longer; how many maides have beene overrunne with this love? but [...]eres my Lady.

Exit.

Enter Catalina and Valosco.

Cat.

Sir, you love my sister.

Val.

With an obedient heart.

Cat.

Where do you think Don Antonio hath made choice

To place his love?

Val.

There where I wish it may grow older in desire,

And be crown'd with fruitfull happinesse.

Cat.

Hath your aff [...]ction had no deeper roote,

That tis rent up already, I had thought

It would have stood a Winter, but J see

A Summer storme hath kil'd it, fare you well sir.

Val.

How's this, a Summers storme!

Lady by the honour of your birth,

Put off these cloudes, you maze me, take off

The wonder you have put upon Valasco,

And solve these riddles.

Cat.

You love B [...]rinthia.

Val.

With a devoted heart, else may I die

Contempt of all mankinde, not my owne soule

Is deerer to me.

Cat.

And yet you wish Antonio may be crown'd

With happinesse in his love, he loves Birinthia.

Val.

How?

Cat.

Beyond expression, to see how a good nature

Free from dishonour in it selfe, is backward

To thinke another guilty, suffers it selfe

Be poisoned with opinion, did your eyes

Emptie their beames so much in admiration

Of your Berinthias beauty, you left none

To observe your owne abuses,

Vala.

[Page]

Doth not Antonio dedicare his thoughts

To your acceptance, 'tis impossible,

I heard him praise you to the heavens, above 'em;

Made himselfe hoarse but to repeate your vertues

As he had beene in extasie; love Birinthia?

Hell is not blacker than his soule, if he

Love any goodnesse but your selfe.

Cat.

That lesson he with impudence hath reade

To my owne eares, but shall I tell you sir?

We are both made but properties to raise

Him to his partiall ends, flattery is

The stalkeing horse of pollicy, saw you not,

How many flames he shot into her eyes

When they were parting, for which she pay'd backe

Her subtill teares, he wrung her by the hand,

Seem'd with the greatnesse of his passion

To have beene o're borne, Oh cunning treachery!

Worthy our justice, true be commended me;

But could you see the Fountaine that sent forth

So many c [...]zening streames, you would say Styx

Were Christ all to it, and wast not to the Count,

Whom he suppos'd was in pursuite of me;

Nay, whom he knew did love me, that he might

Fire him [...]he more to consummate my marriage

That I disposed he might have of accesse

To his belov'd Berinthia, the end

Of his desires I can confirme it, he praid

To be so happy with my fathers leave

To be her amorous servant, which he nobly

Denied, partly expressing your engagements;

If you have least suspition of this truth:

But dee' thinke she love you?

Val.

I cannot challenge her, but she has let fall

Something to make me hope, how thinke you shee's

Affected to Antonio?

Cat.

May be

Luke warme as yet, but soone as as shees caught,

Inevitably his, without prevention.

[Page] For my owne part I hate him in whom lives

A will to wrong a Gentleman, for hee was

Acquainted with your love, 'twas my respect

To tender so your injury, I could not

Be silent in it▪ what you meane to doe

I leave to your owne thoughts.

Val.

Oh stay sweete Lady, leave me not to struggle

Alone with this universall affliction;

You speake even now Berinthia would be his

Without prevention, oh that Antidote,

That Balsome to my wound.

Cat.

Alas I pitty you, and the more, because

I see your troubies so amaze your judgement,

Ile tell you my opinion sir oth' sudden;

For him, he is not worth Valasco's anger;

Onely thus, you shall discover to my Father,

She promis'd you her love, be con [...]ident

To say you did exchange faith to her; this alone

May chance assure her, and if not I hav't:

Steale her away, your love I see is honourable,

So much I suffer when de sert is wounded,

You shall have my assistance, you apprehend me,

Val.

I am devoted yours, command me ever.

Cat.

Keepe smooth your face, and still maintaine your worship

With Berinthia, things must be manag'd

And strucke in the maturity, noble sir; J [...]wish

You onely fortunate in Berinthias love.

Val.

Words are too poore to thanke you, I looke on you

As my safe guiding starre.

Exit.

Cat.

But I shall prove a wandering starre, I have

A course which I must finish for my selfe.

Glide on thou subtill mover, thou hast brought

This instrument already for thy aymes,

Sister, Ile breake a Serpents egge betimes,

And teare Antonio from thy very bosome,

Love is above all law of nature, blood,

Not what men call, but what that bides is good.

Exit.

Enter Cast abella and Villand [...]a [...].

Vil.

[Page]

Be not so carefull Cooze, your brothers well.

Be confident if he were otherwise

You should have notice, whom hath he to share

Fortunes without you? all his ills are made

Lesse by your bearing part, his good is doubled

By your communichaing.

Cast.

By this reason

All is not well, in that my ignorance

What fate hath hapned, barres me off the portion

Belongs to me sister, but my care

Is so much greater, in that Diego whom

J charg'd to put on wings, if all were well,

Is dull in his returne.

Enter Antonio and Diego.

Vil.

His Master happily hath commanded him

To attend him homewards, this is recompenc'd

Already, looke they are come;

Y'are welcome sir.

Ant.

Oh sister, ere you let fall words of welcome,

Let me unlade a treasure in your eare

Able to weigh downe man.

Cast.

What treasure brother, you amaze me,

Ant.

Never was man so blest,

As heavens had studied to enrich me here,

So am I fortunate.

Vil.

You make me covetous.

Ant.

I have a friend.

Vil.

You have a thousand sir, is this your treasure?

Ant.

But I have one more worth then millions,

And he doth onely keepe alive that name

Of friendship in his breast, pardon Villandros,

Tis not to straine your love, whom I have tried,

My worthiest cozen.

Cast.

But where is this same friend, why came he not

To Eluas with you, sure he cannot be

Deare to you Brother, to whom I am not indebted

At least for you.

Die.

I have many deare friends too, my Taylor is one

To whom I am indebted

Ant.

[Page]

His Commission

Stretch'd not so farre, a Fathers tie was on him,

But I have his noble promise, er't be long,

We shall enjoy him.

Cast.

Brother I hope

You know how willingly I can entertaine

Your blisse, and make it mine, pray speake the man

To whom we owe so much.

Ant.

Twere not charity to starve you thus with shaddowes,

Take him and with him in thy bosome locke

The Mirrour of fidelity, Don Sebastiano.

Cast.

I oft have heard you name him full of worth,

And upon that relation have laid up,

One deare to my remembrance.

Ant.

But he must be dearer Castabella, harke you sister,

I have beene bold upon thy vertue, to

Invite him to you, if your heart be free.

Let it be empty ever, if he doe not

Fill it with noblest love, to make relation,

What zeale he gave of a worthy nature,

At our last parting (when betwixt a sonne,

And friend he so divided his affections

And out did both) you would admire him: were

I able I would build a temple where

We tooke our leave,

The ground it selfe was hallowed

So much with his owne piety, Diego saw it.

Die.

Yes sir, I saw, heard, and wondred.

Ant.

Come I will tell you all, to your chamber sister,

Diego▪ our plot must on, all time is lost

Vntill we try the mooving.

Die.

If the plot please you sir, let me alone to play my part

I warrant you.

Ant.

Come Castabella, [...] and prepare to heare

A story not of length but worthy your eare.

Exeunt

Enter Vilarezo, Valasco, and Catalina.

Vil.

You have not dealt so honourably sir,

As did become you, to proceede so fa [...]e

[Page] Without my knowledge, give me leave to tell you

You are not welcome.

Val.

My Lord I am sorry,

If I have any way trangrest, I was not

Respectlesse of your honour, nor my fame,

Valasco shall be unhappy, if by him

You shall derive a staine, my actions faire,

I have done nothing with Berinthia,

To merit such a language, twas not ripe,

For me to interrupt the father, when I knew not

What grace I hold with her.

Vil,

Hell on her grace, is this her duty? ha,

I can forget my nature if she dare

Make so soone for feit of her piety;

Oh where is that same awfull dread of Parent,

Should live in children; tis her ambition

To out runne her sister, but Ile curbe her impudence,

Cata.

Retire your selfe, this passion must have way,

This workes as I would have it, feare nothing sir,

Obscure.

Exit Val▪

Vil.

Ile cloyster her, and starve this spirit

Makes her deceive my trust; Catalina

Vpon thy duty I command thee, take

Her custody on thee, keepe her from the eye

Of all that come to Averro, let her discourse

With pictures on the wall, I feare she hath

Forgot to say her prayers, is she growne sensuall?

Cata.

But my Lord.

Vil.

Oh keepe thy accents for a better cause, [...]

She hath contemd us both, thou caust not see

What blemish she derives unto our name.

Yet these are sparkes, he hath a fire within,

Will turne all into flames, wheres Valasco?

Cata.

Good sir, a much afflicted worthy Gentleman,

At your displeasure.

Vil.

Thou art too full of pitty, nay th'art cruell

To thy owne fame, he must not have accesse

To prosecu [...]e, it was my doting sinne,

[Page] Of too much confidence in Berinthia,

Gave her such libertie, on my blessing punish it,

Twill be a vertuous act, the snow I thought

Was not more innocent, more cold, more chaste

Why my command bound her in ribs of ice,

But shees dissolv'd, to thee Ile leave her now,

Be the maintainer of thy Fathers vow,

Exit

Val.

Why I am undone now,

Cata.

Nothing lesse, this conflict

Prepares your peace, I am her guardian,

Love smiles upon you, I am not inconstant,

Having more power to assist you, but away,

We must not be discri'd, expect ere long

To heere what you desire.

Val.

My blisse I remember.

Exit

Cata.

Berinthia, y'are my prisoner, at my leisure

Ile studdy on your fate, I cannot be

Friend to my selfe, when I am kind to thee.

Exit

Actus. 3. Scaena 1.

Enter Sebastiano, Berinthia, Ansilva, Dieg [...] meetes them▪

Seb.

VVElcome honest Diego, your Master Antonio is in health I hope.

Die.

He commanded me, remember his service to you, I have obtaind his leave for a small absence to perfect a suite I lately commenc'd in this Court.

Seb.

You follow it close me thinks Berinthia, I see this cloud

Vanish already, be not deject d,soone

Ile know the depth ont▪ should the world forsake thee,

Thou shalt not want a brother deere Berinthia.

Exit

Secretly gives her a Letter.

Die.

This is my Lady Berinthia, prethee let me shew

Some manners, Madam my Master Antonio speakes his

Service to you in this paper: alas Madam, I was but

Halfe at home, and I am returnd to see if I can recover

[Page] The tother peece of my selfe, so, was it not a reasonable

Complement.

Ber.

Antonio, he's constant J perceive.

Exit

Die.

So, we are alone, sweet Mistresse Ansilva, J am bold

To renue my suite, which least it should either

Fall or depend too long having past my declaration,

I shall desire to come to a judgement.

My cause craves noching but justice,

That is, that you would be mine; and now since

You selfe is judge also, I beseech you be not partiall

In your owne cause, but give seatence for the plaintiffe, and

I will discharge the fees of the Court on this fashion.

Enter Berinthia.

Ber.

Here is a haven yet to rest my soule on,

In midst of all unhappinesse, which I looke on,

With the same comfort a distressed Sea man

A [...]arre off, viewes the coast he would enjoy,

When yet the Seas doe tosse his reeling barke,

Twixt hope and danger, thou shalt be conceald.

She mistaking as she moved put up the Letter, it fals downe▪

Ans.

Heres my Lady Berinthia.

Die.

What care I for my Lady Berinthia, and she thinkes

Much, would she had one to stopp [...] her mouth.

Ans.

But I must observe her, upon her fathers displeasure,

She is committed to my Ladies custody, who hath made

Me her keeper, she must be lockt up.

Die.

Ha lockt up.

Ans.

Madam, it is now time you would retire to your owne Chamber.

Ber.

Yes, preth [...]e doe A [...]silva in this gallery,

I breathe but too much aire, oh Diego youle have

An answer I perceive, ere you returne.

Die.

My journey were to no purp [...]se else Madam▪ I apprehend her [...] ile waite an opport [...]nity, alas poore I ady, is my sweete heart become a j [...]ylor, there's hope of an office without money.

Enter Ansilva hastily.

Ans.

Diego I spy my Lady Catalina comming this way, pray shrowd your selfe behinde this cloth, I would be loath shee [Page] should ice us here together, quickely, I heare her treading,

Enter Catalina.

Cata.

Ansilva.

Ans.

Madam.

Cata.

Who's with you?

Ans.

No body Madam.

Cata.

Was not Diego with you, Antonioes man?

Ans.

He went from me Madam halfe an houre agoe,

To visit friends ith' City.

Caf.

He hath not seene Berinthia I hope.

A [...]s.

Vnlesse he can pierce stone walls Madam, I am sure▪

Cat.

Direct Don Valasco hither by the backe staires,

I expect him.

Ans.

I shall Madam.

Cat▪

H [...], whats this? a Letter to Berinthia▪ from whom

Subscrib'd? Antonio, what devill brought this hither?

Furies torment me not, ha, while I am Antonio▪ expect

Not I can be other then thy servant, all my thoughts

A [...]e made sacred with thy remembrance, whose hope

Sustaines my life, oh I drink poyson from these fatall accents,

Be thy soule blacker then the inke that staines

The cursed paper, would each droppe had falne

From both your hearts, and every Character

Beene tex [...]d with blood, I would have tir'd mine eyes

To have read you both dead here, upon my life

Diego hath beene the cunning Mercury

In this conveyance, J suspect his love

Is but a property to advance this suite.

But I will crosse um all;

Enter Valasco.

Don Valasco, you are seasonably arriv'd,

I have a Letter for you.

Val.

For me?

Cata.

It does concerne you.

Val.

Ha.

Cata.

How doe you like it sir?

Val.

As I should a Punyard sticking here, how came

You by it?

Cata.

I found it here by accident oth'ground,

I am sure it did not grow there, I suppose

Diego, the servant of Antonio

Who colourably pretends affection

[Page] To Ansilva, brought it, hees the agent for him.

Now the designe appeares, day is not more conspicuous

Then this cunning.

Val.

I am resolv'd,

Cat.

For what?

Val.

Antonio or I must change our ayre,

This is beyond my patience▪ sleepe in this

And never wake to honour, oh my fates,

He takes the freehold of my soule away,

Berinthia, and it, are but one creature,

I have beene a tame foole all this while,

Swallowed my poyson in a fruitelesse hope,

But my revenge, as heavy as Ioves wrath,

Wrapt in a thunderbolt is falling on him,

Cat.

Now you appeare all noblenesse, but collect

Draw up your passions to a narrow point

Of vengeance, like a burning glasse that fires

Surest ith smallest beame, he that would kill,

Spends not his idle fury to make wounds,

Farre from the heart of him he fights withall,

Looke where you most can danger, let his head

Bleed out his braines, or eyes, aime at that part

Is deerest to him, this once put to hazzard,

The rest will bleed to death.

Val.

Apply this Madam.

Cat.

The time invites to action, ile be briefe,

Strike him through Berinthia.

Val.

Ha.

Cat.

Mistake me not, I am her sister,

Shee is his heart, make her your owne, you have

A double victory, thus you may kill him

With most revenge, and give your owne desires,

A most confirm'd possession, fighting with him,

Can be no conquest to you, if you meane

To strike him dead, pursue Berinthia,

And kill him with the wounds he made at you,

It will appeare but justice, all this is

Within your fathom sir.

Val.

Tis some divinity hangs on your tongue.

Cat.

If you consent Berinthia shall not see,

[Page] More sunnes till you enjoy her.

Val.

How deere Madam.

Cat.

[...] you shall steale her away▪

[...].

Oh [...]hen'

Cat.

Provide

[...] friends, but let it not be knowne

Vpon your honour, I assist you in't.

And after [...] when soft s [...]eepe hath charm'd

All sences [...] the Garden gate.

Which shall to open for you, to know her chambe [...]

A candle shall direct you in the Window,

[...] shall attend too, and provide

To give you entrance, thence take Berinthia,

And soone convey her to what place you thinke

[...] and most convenient, in small time

You may pr [...]cure your owne conditions▪

But sir you must engage your selfe to use her

With honourable respects, she is my sister,

Did not I thinke you noble, for the world

I would not runne that hazzard.

Val.

Let heaven forsake me then, was ever mortall

S [...] bound to womans care, my mothers was

Halfe paid her at my birth, but you have made me

An everlasting debtor.

Cat.

Select your friend, bethinke you of a place

You may transpose her.

Val.

I am all wings.

[...]

Cat▪

So, when gentle physicke w [...]ll not serve, we mus [...]

[...]pply more active, but there is

Yet a [...]eceipt behind; Va [...]as [...]oes shallow,

And will be planet strucke, to se [...] Berinthia

Dye in his armes: tis so, yet he himselfe

Shall carry the suspition, if art,

Or hell can furnish me with such a poyson,

[...]leepe thy last sister, whilst thou livest I have,

No [...] in my s [...]lfe, my rest thy grave.

Exi [...]

Diegocomes [...]rom behinde the hangings.

[...]

Goe thy wayes, and the devill wants a brerder thou

[Page] Art for him, one spirit and her selfe are able to furnish

Hell and it were unprovided; but I am glad I heard all

I shall love hangings the better while I live:

I pereeive some good may be done behind em▪

But ile acquaint my Lady Berinthia,

Heres her chamber I observ'd: Madam, Madam

Berinthia,

Berinthia above▪

Ber.

Whose there?

Die.

Tis I Diego, I am Diego.

Ber.

Honest Diego, what good newes,

Die.

Ya [...]e undone, undone lost, undone for ever; it is time now to be serious.

Ber.

Ha,

Die.

Wheres my Master Antonioes Letter.

Ber.

Here, where, ha, alas, I feare I have lost it.

Die.

Alas you have undone your selfe, and your sister, my Lady Catalina hath found it, and is mad with rage, and envy against you; I overtheard your destruction, she hath shewed it to Don Valasce, and hath plotted that he shall steale you away this night, the doores shall be lest open the houre after twelve.

Ber.

You amaze me, tis impossible.

Die.

Doe not cast away your selfe, by incredulity, upon my life your fate is cast, nay more, worse then that.

Ber.

Worse?

Die.

You must be poysoned too, oh shees a cunning devill, and she will carry it so, that Valasco shall bee suspected for your deat [...], what will you doe?

Ber.

I am overcome with amazement?

Die.

Madam remember with what noble love my Master Antonio does honour you, and now both save your selfe, and make him happy, how.

Ber.

I am lost man.

Die.

Feare not, I will engage my life for your safety,

Seeme not to have knowledge or suspicion, be carefull

What you receive, least you be poysond, leave the

Rest to me, I have a crotchet in my pate s [...]all spoyle

Their musicke, and prevent all danger I warrant you,

[Page] By any meanes be smooth, and pleasant, the devils

A knave, your sisters a Traytor, my Master is your noble

Friend, I am your honest servant, and Valasco shall

Shake his eares like an annimall.

Ber.

It is not to be hoped for.

Die.

Then cut of my eares, slit my nose, and make a devill of me, shall I about it say, tis done.

Ber.

Any thing thou art honest, heaven be neare,

Still to my innocence, I am full of feare.

Die.

Spurre cut and away then.

Exeu [...]t

Enter Signior Sharkino in his study, furnished with glasses, viols, pictures of wax characters, wands, conju. ringh [...]t, Powders paintings, and Scarabeo.

Sh.

Scarabeo.

Sca.

Sir.

Sh.

Is the doore tongue tide, scrue your selfe halfe out a [...] one of the crevices, and give me notice what patient approathes me.

Sca.

I can runne through the key hole sir.

Sh.

This [...]ucus beares

A lively tincture, oh the checke mnst blush

That weares it, their deceiv'd that say

Art is the ape of nature.

Sca.

Sir.

Sh.

Who ist?

Sca.

My Ladies apronstrings, Mistris Ansilva her chambermaide.

Sh.

Admit her.

Enter Ansilus.

Ans.

How now raw head and bloody bones, wheres the

Doctor Sharkino? oh here he is.

Sh.

How does your vertuous Ladie.

Ans.

In good health sir.

Wheres the Fucus, and the Powder.

Sh.

All is prepared here.

Ans.

To see what you can doe, many make legges, and you make faces sir.

Sh.

Variety of faces is now in fashion, and all little enough for some to set a good face on't, oh Ladies may now and then commit [...] and have some colour for't, but these are but [...] of our art, the things we can prescribe to be taken [Page] inwardly, are pretty curiosities, we can prolong life.

Ans.

And kill too can you not?

Sh.

Oh any that will goe to the price.

Ans.

You have poysons I warrant you, how doe they looke▪ pray lets see one.

Sh.

Oh naturall and artificiall, Nessas blood was milke

To em, an extraction of Todes and Vipers, looke

Heres a parcell of Claudius Caesars posset,

Given him by his wife Agrippina here is some of

Hannibals medicine he carried alwaies in the

Pummell of his sword, for a dead lift, a very active

Poyson, which passing the Orifice, kindles

Straite a fire inflames the blood, and makes th [...] marrow

Fly, have you occasion to apply one.

Ans.

Introth we are troubled with a rat in my Ladies Chamber.

Sh.

A Rat, give him his bane, would you destroy a City, I have probatinus of Italian Sallets, and our owne Country figs shall doe it rarely, a Rat, I have scarse a poyson so base, the worst is able to kill a man, I have all sorts, from a minute to seven yeares in operation, and leave no markes behinde em, a Rats a Rat.

Ans.

Pray let me see a remover at twelve houres, and I would be loath to kill the poore thing presently.

Sh.

Here, you may cast it away upon't, but tis a disparagement to the poyson.

Ans.

This will content you.

Sh.

Because it is for a Rat you shall pay no more, my service to my Ladie, my poysons howsoever I give them, variety of operations are all but one.

Knockes within.

Honest Rats bane in severall-shapes, their vertue is common, and will not be long in killing; you were best looke it be a Rat, Scarabeo.

Sca.

Sir heres a Gallant enquires for Dector Sharkino

Sh.

Vsher him in, it is some Don.

Enter Count de Monte Nigro.

Count.

Is your name Signior Sharkin [...] the famous Doct [...]r.

Sh.

[Page]

They call me Sharkino.

Count.

Doe you not know me?

Sh.

Your gracious pardon.

Count.

[...] Monte Nigro.

Sh.

Your honours sublimity doth illustrate this habitation▪

Is there any thing wherein Sharkino may expresse

[...] service? if ought within the circumference

Of a medicinall or Mathematicall science,

May have acceptance with your cel [...]itude,

[...]t shall devolve it selfe.

[...]

Devolve it selfe, that word is not in my Table booke; what are all these trinkets?

Sh.

Take [...] I beseech your hon [...]ur, they are dangerous, this is the devis [...],

Coun.

A pox oth devill, wh [...]t have I doe with him,

Sh.

It is a dreadfull circle of conjuration, fortified

With sacred characters against the power

Of inferra [...]l spirits, within whose round I can tread

Sa [...]ely, when hell burnes round about me.

Coun.

Not unlikely.

Sh.

Will you see the devill sir?

Coun.

Ha, the devill? not at this time, I am in some hast,

Any thing but the devill I durst fight with all, harke

You Doctor, letting these things passe, hearing

Of your skill, I am come in my owne p [...]rson, for

A fragment of your art, harke you, have you any

[...] to procure love sir?

Sh.

All the degrees of it this is ordinary.

Coun.

Nay I would not have it too strong, the Lady I intend it for, is pretty well taken already, an easing working thing does it.

Sh.

Here [...] a powder whose ingrediences were fetchd

From Arab [...] the happy, a sublimation of the Phoenix

Ashes, when she last burned her selfe, it beares the

Colo [...]r of sinamon, two or three souples put into

A cup of wine, fetches up her heart [...] can scar [...]e

Keepe it in, for running out of her mouth to you

My nob [...]e Lord.

Count.

[Page]

That, let me have that, Doctor I know tis deare,

Will that gold buy it?

Sh.

Your honour is bountifull, there needs no circumstance, Minister it by whom you please, your intention binds it to operation.

Co [...]t.

So, so Catalina, I will put your mornings draught

In my pocket—

Knocke at the doore

Doctor, I would not be seene.

Sh.

Please you my Lord obscure your selfe behinde these hangings then, till they be gone, Ile dispatch'em the sooner; or if your honour thinke fit, tis but clouding your person with a simple cloake of mine, and you may at pleasure passe without discovery, my Anotomy shall waite on you.

Enter three Servingmen.

Prethee come backe yet.

Oh by any meanes goe laynes.

Dost thou thinke it possible that any man can tell where thy things are, but he that stole 'em, hee's but a jugling imposter, a my conscience, come backe againe.

Nay now wee are at furthest, be not rul'd by him, I know he is a cunning man, he told me my fortune once when I was to goe a journey by water, that if I scapt drowning, I should doe well enough, and I have iiv'd ever since.

Well I will try, I am resolv'd; stay, here hee is Pedro, you are acquainted with him, breake the ice, he is alone.

Blesse you Mr. Doctor; sir presuming on your Art, here is a fellow of mine, indeede the Butler, for want of a better; has lost a dozen of Dyaper spoones, and halfe a dozen of silver Napkins yesterday, they were seene by all three of us in the morning betweene sixe and seven set up, and what spirit of the Buttery hath stollen'em before eight, is invisible to our understanding.

He hath delivered you the case right: I beseech you sir doe what you can for a servant, that is like to be in a lamentable case else, heres a gratuity.

Now we shall see what the devill can do, hey, heres one of his spirits I thinke.

Sh.

Betweene 7 and 8. the houre; the 1 Luna, the 2 Saturne, [Page] the 3 Iupiter, the 4 Mars, the 5 Sol, the 6 Ven [...]s, the 7 Mercury, ha then it was stolne, Mercury is a thiefe, your goods are stolne.

[...]

Was Mercury the thiefe, pray where dwells he?

Sh.

Mercury is above the Moone man.

Alas sir tis a great way thither.

Did not I tell you you would be gull'd.

Sh.

Well y'are a servant, Ile doe something for you; What will you say, if I shew you the man that stole your Spoones and Napkins presently, will that satisfie you.

Ile desire no more, oh good Mr. Doctor.

If he does that, ile beleve he has cunning.

Sh.

Goe to, heares a glasse.

Loe you there now.

Sh.

Stand your backes North, and stirre not till I bid you;

What see you there?

Heres nothing.

Sh.

Looke agen, and marke, stand yet more North.

Now I see somebody. 1 And I.

The Count comes from behind the Hangings and muff [...]ed in a cloake steales of the Stage.

Sh.

Marke this fellow mu [...]fled in the cloake, he hath stolne your spoones and Napkins, does he not skulke.

[...]Foote tis strange, he lookes like a theefe, [...]this Doctor [...] see is cunning.

Oh rogue how shall's come by him, oh for an Officer,

Sh.

Yet stirre not,

Oh hees gone, where is he?

Sh.

Be not too rash, my Art tells me there is danger in't, you must be blinfold all, if you observe me not, all is to no purpose, you must not see till you be forth a doores, shut your eyes, and leade one another, when you are abroad open them and you shall see agen.

The thiefe?

Sh.

The same, then use your pleasures, so, be sure you see not, conduct them Scarabeo.

Exeunt,

Enter a Maid with an Vrinall.

Ma.

Oh Mr. Doctor I have got this opportunity to come [Page] to you, but I cannot stay, heres my water, pray sweet Mr. Doctor, tell me, I am in great feare that I have lost—

Sh.

What?

Ma.

My maidenhead sir, you can tell by my water.

Sh.

Dost not thou know?

Ma.

Oh I doe some what doubt my selfe, for this morning when I rose, I found a paire of breeches on my bed, and I have had a great suspition ever since, it is an evill signe they say, and one does not know what may be in those breeches sometimes; sweets Mr. Doctor, am I [...] maid still or no, I would be sorry to loose my maiden head ere I were aware, I feare I shall never be honest after it.

Sh.

Let me see Vrina meretrix; the colour is a strumpet, but the contents deceive not, your maiden head is gone.

Ma.

And is there no hope to finde it againe?

Sh.

You are not every body, by my Art, as in other things that have beene stolne, he that hath stolne your maiden head shall bring it againe.

Ma.

Thanke you sweet Mr. Doctor, I am in your debt for this good newes; oh sweet newes sweet Mr. Doctor.

Exit.

Enter Count beating before him the three Servingmen, they runne in.

Cry your honour mercy, good my Lord.

Count.

Out you slaves, oh my toes.

Sh.

What ayles your Lordship?

Count.

Doctor, I am out of breath, where be these wormes crept, I was never so abused since I was swadled: harke you; those 3. Rogues that were here even now, began to lay hold of me, and told me I must give them their Spoones and Napkins; they made a theefe of mee, but I thinke I have made their flesh jelly with kickes and bastinadoes; oh I have no mercy when I set on't, I have made e [...]mall poore Iohns, impudent varlets; talke to me of Spoones and Napkins.

Sh.

Alas one of them was mad, and brought to me to cure him.

Count.

Nay they were all mad, but I thinke I have madded e'm; I feare J have kickt two or three out of their lives; alas [Page] poore Wretches I am sorry for it now, but I have such an humor of beating & kicking when my footes in once: harke you Doctor, is it not within the compasse of your physicke to take downe a mans courage a thought lower; the truth is, I am apt of myselfe to quarrell upon the least affront ith' world, I cannot be kept in, chaines will not hold me: totherday for a lesse matter than this, I kickt halfe a dozen of high Germans, from one end of the streete to the other, for but offering to shrinke betweene mee and wall; not a day goes o're my head but I hurt some body mortally; poxe a these rogues, I am sorry at my heart I have hurt e'm so, but I can not forbeare.

Sh.

This is strange.

Count.

How? I can scarce forbeare striking you now, for saying it is strange; you would not thinke it: oh the wounds J have given for a very looke; well harke you, if it be not too late, I would be taken downe, but I feare tis impossible, and then every one goes in danger of his life by me.

Sh.

Take downe your spirit, looke you, dee see this inch and a halfe, how tall a man doe you thinke he was? He was twelve cu [...]its high, and three yards compasse at the waste when I tooke him in hand first, ile draw him through a ring ere I have done with him: I keepe him now to breake my poysons, to eate Spiders and Toades, which is the onely dish his heart wishes for; a Capon destroyes him, and the very sight of beefe or mutton makes him sicke; looke, you shall see him eate his supper, come on your wayes, what say you to this Spider? looke how he leapes.

Sca.

Oh dainty.

Sh.

Here, saw you that? how many legges now for the hanch of a Toade.

Sca.

Twenty, and thanke you sir, oh sweete Toade, oh admirable Toade.

Count.

This is very strange, I nere saw the like, I never keew Spiders and Toades were such good meates before; will he not burst now?

Sh.

It shall nere [...]well him, by to morrow hee shall be an [Page]inch abated, and I can with an other experiment plumpe him and highten him at my pleasure; ile warrant ile take you downe my Lord.

Count.

Nay but dee here, doe I looke like a Spider-catcher, or Toade-eater.

Sh.

Farre be it from Shirkino, I have gentle pellets for your Lordship, shall melt in your mouth, 'and take of your valour insensibly; Lozenges that shall comfort your stomacke, and but at a weeke restraine your fury two or three thoughts; does your honour thinke I would forget my selfe, I shew you by this Rat what I can doe by Art: your Lordship shall have an easie composition, no hurt ith' world in't; here take but halfe a dozen of these going to bed, e're morning; it shall worke gently, and in the vertue appeare every day afterward.

Count.

But if I find myselfe braking out into fury, I may take e'm often; heres for your pellers of Lozenges, what rare physicke is this? Ile put it in practise presently, farewell Doctor.

Exit

Sh.

Happinesse wait on your egregious Lordship, my physicke Shall make your body soluble, but for working on your spirit, beleeve it when you finde it; with any lies we must set forth siour'mples and compositions to utter them: so this is a good dayes worke; leane chaps lay up, and because you have perform'd hamsomly, there is some silver for you, lay up my properties: Tis night already, thus we knaves will thrive, when honest plainnesse know not how to live.

Exeunt.

Enter Catalina and Ansilva.

Cat.

Art sure she has tane it?

Ans.

As sure as I am alive? she never eate with

Such an appetite, for I found none left, I would

Be loath to have it so sure in my belly, it will worke

R [...]rely twelve houres hence.

Cata.

Thus we worke sure then, time runnes upon

Th' appointed houre, Valasco should rid me of all my

[Page]Feares at once, upon thy life be carefull to direct

Him at his first approach, I am sicke till she

Be delivered; be secret as the night, ile to my

Chamber, be very carefull.

Enter Antonio, Villandras, Diego, vizzardid and ar [...]'d.

Ant.

Art sure thou hast the time right.

Die.

Doubt not, yonder's her chamber, the light speakes it; softly.

Ans.

Whose there? Vallasco?

Ant.

Ans.

That way, make no noise, things are prepared, softly

So, so, this is good I hope and weight too, my Lady

Berinthia will be sure enough anon, I shall nere

Get more higher, I had much adoe to perswade her

To the spice, but I swore it was a cordiall my Lady

Vs'd her selfe, and poo [...]e foole she has [...]wallowed it

Sure.

Enter Ant, with Berinthia, Villan, Diego.

Ant.

Madam feare not I am your friend.

Die.

Who are you?

Vill.

Stop her mouth, away.

Exeunt.

Enter Ansilva.

Ans.

So, so, they are gone, alas poore Valasco I pitty thee,

But we creatures of polliticke Ladies must hold the

Same byas with our Mistresses, and tis some pollicy

To make them respect us the better, for feare our

Teeth be not strong enough to keepe in our tongues:

Now must I study out some tale by morning to salute

My old Lord withall.

Enter V [...]l [...]sco, a friend or two armed.

Val.

Ansilva?

Ans.

Some body calls me, who is it?

Val.

It is I Valasco

Ans.

What comes he backe for? I hope the poyson does

Not worke already, where have you dispos'd her.

Val.

Dispos'd whom?

Ans.

My Lady Berinthia.

Val.

Let me alone to dispose her, prethee where's the light?

Shew us the way.

Ans.

What way?

Val.

The way to her chamber? come, I know what

[Page]You are sicke of, here each minute is an age till

I possesse Berinthia.

Ans.

This is pretty, I hope my lady is well.

Val.

Well?

Ans.

My Lady Berinthia sir.

Val.

Doe you mocke me?

Ans.

I mocke you?

Val.

I shall grow angry, lead me to

Berinthias chamber, or—

Ans.

Why sir, were not you here even now, and hurried

Her away, I have your gold well fare all good tokens;

I have perform'd my duty already sir, and you had my

Lady.

Val.

I am abus'd you are a cunning Devill, I heare and had

Berinthia, tell me, or with this pistoll, I will soone

Reward thy treachery, where Berinthia?

Ans.

Oh I beseech you doe not fright me so, if you were

Not here even now, here was another that call'd

Himselfe Valasco, to whom I gave accesse, and

He has carried her away.

Exit.

Val.

Am I awake? or doe I dreame this horrour:

Where am I? who does know me, are you friends

Of Don Valasco?

Doe you doubt us sir?

Val.

I doubt my selfe, who am I

Our noble friend Valasco,

Val.

Tis so, I am Valasco, all the Furies

Circle me round, oh teach me to be mad,

I am abus'd, infufferably tormented,

My very soule is whipt, it had beene safer

For Catalina to have plaid with Serpents.

Enter Catalina and Ansilva,

Cat.

Thou talkest of wonders, where is Valasco?

Ans.

He was here even now.

Val.

Who nam'd Valasco?

Cata.

Twas I, Catalina, here.

Val.

Could you picke none out of the stocke of man

To mocke but me, so basely?

Cata.

[Page]

Valasco be your selfe, resume your vertue.

My thoughts are cleare from your abuse, it is

No time to vent our passions, fruitlesse rages,

Some hath abus'd us both, but a revenge

As swift as lightning shall pursue their flight:

Oh I could feare my braines, as you respect

Your honoures safety, or Berinthias love;

Haste to your lodging, which being nere our house,

You shall be sent for; seeme to be rais'd up,

Let us alone to make a noise at home,

Fearefull as thunder; try the event, this cannot

Doe any hurt, you Ansilva shall

With clamors wake the houshold cunningly,

While I prepare my selfe.

Val.

I will suspend awhile.

Exeunt.

Ans.

Helpe, helpe, theeves, villaines, murder my Lady:

Helpe oh my Lord, my Lady, murder theeves helpe.

Enter Sebastiano in his first with a Taper.

Seb.

What fearefull cry is this, where are you?

Ans.

Here oh I am almost kil'd.

Seb.

Ansilva where art hurt?

Ans.

All over sir, my Lady Berinthia is carried away

By Ruffians, that broke into her chamber, alas

Sees gone.

Seb.

Whether? which way?

Enter Vilarezo Catalina.

My sister Berinthia is violently tane out of her

Chamber, and heres Ansilva hurt, see looke about,

Berinthia sister.

Cat.

How Berin. gone [...] call up the servants,

Ansilva, how wast?

Ans.

Alas Madam, I have not my senses about me, I am so

Frighted, vizards, and swords, and pistols, but my

Lady Berinthia was quickly seiz'd upon, shees gone.

Vil.

What villaines durst attempt it?

Enter Count Monte de nigro with a torch.

I feare Valasco guilty of this rape.

Cat.

Runne one to his lodging presently, it will appeare

I know he lov'd her, oh my Lord, my sister Berinthias lost,

Mont.

How? foote my physicke begins to worke, ile come to you presently.

Exit.

Cat.

[Page]

Wheres Diego? he is missing, runne one to his chamber, heres Valasco.

Enter Valasco.

Seb.

It is apparant sir, Valascoes noble.

Cat.

Berinthias stolne away.

Val.

Ha?

Seb.

Her Chamber broken op [...], and shee tane thence thi [...] night.

Val.

Confusion stay the theese.

Mount.

So, so, as you were saying, Berinthia was stolene [...] Way by some body, and—

I. Ser.

Diego is not in his chamber.

Cat.

Didst breake ope the doore?

I. Ser.

I did, and found all empty.

Mount.

How, Diego gone? thats strange, oh it workers againe, Ile come to you presently.

Exit

Cat.

I doe suspect—

This some plot of Antonio,

Diego, a subtle villaine,

Confirmes himselfe an instrument by this absence;

What thinkest Ansilva?

Ans.

Indeed I heard some of them name Antonio.

Vil.

Seb.

Cat.

Ha?

Vil.

Tis true upon my soule, oh false Antonio.

Cat.

Vnworthy Gentleman.

Val.

Let [...]one have the honour to revenge, but I the wrongd

Val [...]sco, let me beg it sir.

Vil.

Antonio, boy up before the day,

Vpon my blessing I command thee post

To Eluas Castle, summon that false man

Enter Count.

To quit his shamefull action, bid him returne

Thy sister backe, whose honour will be lost

For ever in't, if he shall dare deny her,

Double thy Fathers spirit, call him to

A strickt account, and with thy sword enforce him,

Oh I could leape out of my age me thinkes,

And combat him my selfe [...]be thine the glory,

This staine will never wash off, I feele it settle

On all our blood, away, my curse pursue

This disobedience.

Exit

Val.

[Page]

I had an interrest in Berinthia,

Why have not I commission, I have a sword,

Thirsleth to be acquainted with his veines;

It is too meane a satisfaction

To have her rendred, on his heart Ide write

A most just vengence.

Seb.

Sir she is my sister, I have a sword dares tent

A wound as farre as any; spare your vallour

Cat.

I have a tricke to be rid of this foole, my Lord

Doe you accompany my brother, you

I know are va [...]lant.

Mount.

Any whither, Ile make me ready prese [...]tly.

Exit

Seb.

My most unhappy sister.

Exit

Cat.

Oh I could surfet, I am confident

Antonio hath her, tis revenge beyond

My expectation, to close up the eyes

Of his Berinthia, dying in his armes,

Poyson'd maturely, mischiefe I shall prove

Thy constant friend, let weakenesse vertue love.

Actus 4. Scaena I.

Enter A [...]tonio, Berinthia, Castabella, Villandras, Sforza, Diego.

Ant.

THe welcom'st guest that ever Eluas had

Sister, Villandras yare not sensible what treasure

You po [...]esse, I have no loves, I would not here divide.

Cast.

Indeed Madam, yare as welcome here, as are my mother was.

Vil.

And you are here as safe, as if you had an army for your Guard.

S [...]or.

Safe armies, and guard; Berinthia ya [...]e a Lady,

But I meane not to court you: guard [...]notha, here's

A Toledo, a [...]d an old arme, tough bones and sinewes,

Able to cut off as stout a head as wags upon a shoulder,

Thart Antonios guest, welcome by the old bones

Of his Father, th'ast a wall of bra [...]e about thee

My young D [...]ffodill.

Vil.

[Page]

Nor thinke my noble cozen meaneth you any dishonour here.

Ant.

Dishonour, it is a language I never understood, yet

Throw off your feares Berinthia, yare ith' power

Of him that dares not thinke

The least dishonour to you.

Sfor.

True by this busse jerkin, that hath look'd ith face o [...] an Army, and he lies like a termagant, denies it, Antonio is Lord of the Castle, but ile command fire to the gunnes, upo [...] any Renegado that confronts us, set thy heart at rest my gilloflower, we are all friends I warrant thee, and hees a Turke that does not honour thee from the haire of thy head, to thy pettitoes.

Ant.

Come b [...] not sad.

Cas [...].

Put on fresh blood, yare not cheerefull, how doe you?

Ber.

I know not how, nor what to answer you,

Your loves I cannot be ungratefull to,

Yare my best friends I thinke, but yet I know not

With what consent you brought my body hither.

Ant.

Can you be ignorant what plot was l [...]id

To take your faire life from you.

Ber.

If all be not a dreame, I doe remember

Yo [...]r servant Diego told me wenders, and

I owe you for my preservation, but—

Sfor.

Sh [...]ote not at Buts, Cupids an atcher, here a faire marke, a f [...]oles bolts soone shot, my names Sforza still, my double Daisie.

Cast

It is your happinesse you have escaped the malice of your sister.

Vil.

And it is worth

A noble gratitude to have been quit,

By such an honourer as Antonio is

Of faire Berinthi [...].

Ber.

Oh but my Father, under whose displeasure I ever sinke,

Ant.

You are secure

Ber.

As the poore Deere that being pursuid, for safety

Gets up a rocke that over hangs the Sea,

Where all that she can see, is her destruction,

[Page]Before the waves, behinde her enemies

Promise her certaine ruine.

Ant.

Faine not your selfe so haplesse my Berinthi [...],

Ralse your dejected thoughts, be merry, come,

Thinke I am your Antonio.

Cast.

It is not wisdome

To let our passed fortune, trouble us,

Since were they bad the memorie is sweete,

That we have past them, looke before you Lady,

The future most concerneth.

Ber.

You have awak'd me, Antonio pardon,

Vpon whose honour I dare trust my selfe,

I am resolv'd if you dare keepe me here,

T'expect some happier issue.

Ant.

Dare keepe thee here? with thy consent, I dare

Deny thy Father, by this sword I dare,

And all the world.

Sfor.

Dare, what giant of vallour dates hinder us, from daring to slit the weasands of them that dare say, wee dare not doe any thing, that is to be dared under the poles, I am old Sforza, that in my dayes have scoured rogues faces with hot bals, made em cut crosse capers, and sent them away with a powder, I have a company of roring buls upon the wals, shall spit fire in the faces of any ragamus [...]ian that dares say, we dare not fight pell mell, and still my name is Sforza.

Enter Diogo hastily.

Die.

Sir your noble friend don Sebastionc is at the castle gate

Ant.

Your brother Lady, and my honoured friend,

Why doe the gates not spread themselves, to open

At his arrivall Sforza, tis Berinthiaes brother,

Sebastiano the example of all worth

And friendship, is come after his sweete sister,

Ber.

Alas I feare.

Ant.

Be not such a coward Lady, he cannot come

Without all goodnesse waiting on him, Sforza,

Sforza I say, what pretious time we lose,

Sebastiano, I almost lose my selfe

In joy to meete him, breake the iron barre [...]

[Page]And give him entrance.

Sfor.

Ile breake the wals downe, if the gates be too little.

Cast.

I much desire to see him.

Ant.

Sister, now hees come, he did promise me

But a short absence, he of all the world

I would call brother, Castabella more

Then for his sisters love, oh hees a man

Made up of merit, my Berinthia

Throw off all cloudes, Sebastianoes come.

Ber.

Sent by my Father to—

Ant.

What, to see thee? he shall see thēe hēre.

Respected like thy selfe, Berinthia,

Attended with Antonio, begirt with armies of thy servants

Enter Sebastiano Mounte Nigro, Sforza.

Oh my friend.

Seb.

Tis yet in question sir, and will not be

So easily proved.

Moun.

No sir, weele make you prove your selfe our friend.

Ant.

What face have you put on? am I awake?

Or doe I dreame Sebastiano frownes.

Seb.

Antonio I come not now to Complement,

While you were noble, I was not least of them

You cald your friends, but you are guilty of

An action that destroyes that name.

Sfor.

Bones a your Father, does he come to swagger,

My name is Sforza then.

Ant.

No more,

I guiltie of an action so dishonourable

Has made me unworthy of your friendship;

Come y'are not in earnest, tis enough I know

My se'fe Antonio.

Seb.

Adde to him ungratefull.

Ant.

Twas a foule breath delivered it, and wert any

But Sebastiano, he should feele the weight

Of such a falshood.

Seb.

Sister you must along with me.

Ant.

Now by my Fathers soule, he that takes her hence

Vnlesse she give consent, treads on his grave,

[Page] Sebas [...]iano, y'are unnoble then,

Tis I that said it.

Mount.

So it seeme [...].

Seb.

Antonio, for here I throw of all

The ties of love, I come to fetch a sister,

Dishonourably taken from her father;

Or with my sword to force thee render her:

Now if thou beest a Souldier redeliver,

Or keepe her with the danger of thy perso [...],

Thou ca [...]st [...]ot be my brother, till we first

Be allied i [...] blood.

Ant.

Promise me the hearing,

And [...]hat have any satisfaction,

Becomes my fame.

Mount.

So, so, he will submit himselfe, it will be our honor.

Ant.

Were in your power, would you not account it

A pretious victory, in your sisters cause,

To dye your sword with any blood of him,

S [...]v'd both her life and honour?

Seb.

I were ungratefull.

Ant.

You have told your selfe, and I have argumēnt to prove this.

Seb.

Why would you have me thinke, my sister owes to you such preservation?

Ant.

Oh Sebastiano,

Thou dost not thinke what devill lies at home

Within a sisters bosome, Catalina,

(I know not with what worst of envy) laid

Force to this goodly building, and through poyso [...]

H [...]d rob'd the earth of more then all the world,

Her vertue.

Seb.

You must not beate my resolution off

With these inventions sir.

Ant.

Be not cozend,

With your credulity, for my blood, I value it

Beneath my honour, and I dare by goodnesse,

I [...] such a quarrell kill thee: but heare all,

And then you shall have fighting your heart full.

[Page] Valasco was the man, appointed by

That goodly sister to steale Berinthia,

And Lord himselfe of this possession,

Just at that time; but heare and tremble at it,

Shee by a cunning poyson should have breath'd

Her soule into his armes, within two houres,

And so Valasco should have borne the shame

Of thest and murther; how doe you like this sir.

Seb.

You amaze me sir.

Ant.

Tis true by honours selfe, heare it confirm'd,

And when you will, I am ready.

Vil.

Pitty such valour should be imployd,

Vpon no better cause, they will enforme him.

Mount.

Harke you sir, dee thinke this is true?

Vil.

I dare maintaine it.

Mount.

Thats another matter, why then the case is

Altered, what should we doe fighting, and lose

Our lives to no purpose.

Sf.

It seemes you are his second.

Mount.

I am Count de Monte Nigro.

Sfor.

And my names Sforza sir, you were not best to co [...]e here to brave us, unlesse you have more legges and armes [...]t home, I have a saza shall picke holes in your doublet, a [...]d firke your shankes, my gallimau [...]ry.

Seb.

I cannot but beleeve it, oh Berinthi [...],

I am wounded ere I fight.

Ant.

Holds your resolve yet constant▪ if you have

Better opinion of your sword, then truth,

I am bound to answer, but I would I had

Such an advantage gainst another man,

As the justice of my cause, all vallour fights

But with a sayle against it.

Vil.

Take a time to informe your father sir, [...]my noble

Cozen is to be found here constant.

Seb.

But will you backe with me then?

Ber.

Excuse me brother, I shall fall too soone

Vpon my sisters malice, whose foule guilt

Will make me expect more certaine ruine,

Ant.

[Page]

Now Sebestiano

Puts on his judgement, and assumes his noblenesse,

Whilst he loves equity.

Seb.

And shall I carry shame

To Villarezoes house, neglect of father,

Whose precepts bindes me to returne with her,

Or leave my life at Eluas, I must on,

I have heard you to no purpose, shall Berinthi [...]

Backe to Avero.

Ant.

Sir she must not yet, tis dangerous.

Seb.

Choose thee a second then, this Count and [...]

Meane to leave honor here.

Vill.

Honour me sir.

Ant.

Tis done, Sebastiano shall report

[...] just and noble, Sforza sweare

Vpon my Sword, oh doe not hinder me

If victory crowne Sebastianoes arme.

I charge thee by thy honesty restore

This Lady to him, on whose lip I seale

My unstain'd faith.

Mount.

Vmh, tis a rare physitian, my spirit is abated.

Cast.

Brother.

Ber.

Brother.

Seb.

And wilt [...]hou be dishonourd?

Ber.

Oh doe not wrong the Gentleman, beleeve it

Dishonour nere dwelt here, and he hath made

A most religious vow, not in a thought

To staine my innocence, he does not force me

Remember, what a noble friend, you make

A most just enemy, he sav'd my life,

Be not a murtherer, take yet a time,

Runne not your selfe in danger for a cause

Carries so little justice.

Mount.

Faithsir, if you please take a time to thinke on't, a month or two or three, they shall not say but wee are honorable.

Cast.

You gave him to my heart a Gentleman, Seb whisp.

Compleate with goodnesse, will you rob the world

[Page]And me at once, alas I love him.

Ant.

Never man fought with a lesser heart, the conquest

Will be but many deathes, he is her brother,

My friend, this poore girles joy.

Mount.

With all my heart, Ile post to Avero presently.

Seb.

Let it be so Antonio.

Cast.

Alas pore Castabella, what a conflict

Feest thou within thee, their fight woundeth thee,

And I must die, who ere hath victory:

Ant.

Then friend againe, and as Sebastiano,

I bid him welcome, and who loves Antonio

Must speake that language.

Sfor.

Enough, not a Masty upon the Castle wall [...]

But shall barke too, I congratulate thee, if thou

Beelest friend to the Castle of Eluas, and still my name

Is Sforza.

Ant.

Well said my brave Adelautado, come Sebasti [...],

And my Birinthia by to morrow we shall know

The truth of our felicity.

Exeunt.

Enter Vilarezo.

Vil.

What are the Nobles more than common men [...]

When all their honour cannot free them from

Shame and abuse; as greatnesse were a marke

Stucke by them but to give direction

For men to shoote indignities upon them?

Are we call'd Lords of riches we possesse,

And can defend them from the ravishing hand

Of strangers, when our children are not safe

From theeves and robbers, none of us can challe [...]ge

Such right to wealth and fortuues of the world,

Being things without us; but our children are

Essentiall to us, and participate

Of what we are: part of our very nature,

Our selves but cast into a younger mold,

And can we promise, but so weake assurance

Of so neere treasures. O Villarezo shall

Thy age be trampled on, no, it shall not,

I will be knowne a father, Portugall

[Page]Shall not report this infamy unreveng'd,

It will be a barre in Vilarez [...]es armes

Past all posterity;

Enter Catalina.

Come Cat [...]lina, thou wilt stay with me,

Prepare to welcome home Sebastiano,

Whom I expect with honour, and that baggage

Ambitious girle Berinthia.

Cat.

Alas sir; censure not her too soone,

Till she appeare are guilty.

Vil.

Heres thy vertue still,

To excuse her Catalina, no beleeve it,

Shes naught, past hope, I have an eye can see

Into her very heart, thou art too innocent.

Enter Valasco.

Valasco welcome too, Berinthia

Is not come home yet, but we shall seē her

Brought backe with shame; and ist not justice ha?

What can be shame enough?

Val.

Your daugh [...]er sir?

Vil.

My daughter? doe not call her so, she has not

True blood of Vilarezo in her veines;

She makes her selfe a bastard, and deserves

To be [...]ut off like a disordered branch,

Disgracing the faire tree she springeth from.

Val.

Lay not so great a bourthen on Berinthia,

Her nature knowes not to degenerate;

Vpon my [...] life she was not yeelding, to

The injurious action; if Antonio

Have plaied the theefe, let your reven [...]e fall there,

Which were I trusted with, although I doubt not

Sebastianoes f [...]y; he should feele it

More heavy than his Castle, what can be

Too just for such a sinne?

Vil.

Right, right Valasco, I doe love thee fort,

Tis so, and thou shalt see I have a sence

Worthy my birth and person.

Val.

'T will beco [...]e you; but I marvell we hearē nothing

Of their succes [...]e at Elu [...]s. by this time

I would have sent Antonio to warme

His fathers ashes, doe you not thinke sir?

[Page] Sebastiano will not be remisse,

A gentle nature is abus'd with tales,

Which they know how to colour; heres the Count.

Enter Monte nigro sweating.

Cat.

How, the Count? I sent him thither to be rid on him;

The foole has better fortune than I wisht him,

But now I shall heare that which will more comfort me,

My sisters death most certainely.

Mont.

My Lord, I have rid hard, read there, your sonne

And daughter is well.

Cat.

Ha, well?

Mount.

Madam.

Cat.

How does my sister?

Mount,

In good health, she has commendations to you

In that letter.

Val.

And is Antonio living?

Mount.

Yes, and remembers his service to you,

Val.

Has he then yeelded up Berinthia?

Mo [...].

He will yeeld up his ghost first, I know not we were

Going to flesh baste one another, I am sure but the

Matter of fellony hangs still, who will cut it downe;

I know not, Madam theres notable matter against you.

Cat.

Me?

Mount.

Vpon my honor there is, be not angry with me,

No lesse than theft and murder, that letter is charg'd

Withall, but you'le cleare all I make no question, they Talke of poysoning.

Cat.

Am I be [...]ray'd?

Mount.

Well, I smell, I smell.

Cat.

What do you smell?

Moun [...].

It was but a tricke of theirs to save their lives,

For we were bent to kill all that came against us.

Vil.

Catalina reade here, Valasco, both of you,

And let me reade your faces, ha? they wonder.

Val.

Howe [...] this, I steale Berinthia?

Cat.

I poyson my sister.

Val.

This doth amaze me.

Cat.

Father, this letter sayes I would have poysoned my poore sister, innocence defend me.

Vil.

It will, it shall, come Jacquit you both,

They must n [...]t thus foole me.

Mount.

Madam I thought as much, my minde gave me, it

Was a l [...]e, yes, you looke like a poysoner, as much

As I looke like a Hobby-horse.

Cat.

[Page]

Was ever honest love so abused, have I

So poore reward for my affection.

Vil.

It shall be so.

Val.

Madam I know not how the poyson came in, but I

Feare some have betraied our plot.

Cat.

And how came you off my noble Count.

Mount.

As you see without any wounds, but much against

My will I was but one, Sebastiano, that was the

Principall, tooke a demurre upon their allegation:

It seemes, and so the matter is rak'd up in the Embers.

Val.

To make a greater fire, were you so cold

To credit his excuse, Antonio,

I should not have beene so frozen,

As you love honor and revenge, give me

Some interest now, and if I doe not

Shew my selfe faithfull, let Valasco have

No name within your memory, let me begge▪

To be your Proxie sir, pitty such blood,

As yours should be ignobly cast away;

Maddam speake for me.

Cat.

No, J had rather lost this foole.

Mont.

And you can get their consents.

Cat.

You cannot sir in honour now goe backe.

J shall not thinke you love me, if my father

Point you such noble service to refuse it.

Mount.

You heare what she sayes.

Vil.

Count Monte nigro.

Val.

I am all fire with rage.

Vil.

Valasco, you may accompany the Count,

There may be imployment of your valour too;

Tell me at your returne, whether my sonne

May prove a souldier, heres new warrant for

Antonioes death, if there be coldnesse urge it,

Tis my desire, ile study a better service.

Val.

I shall.

Vil.

Away then both, no complement, I wish you eithe [...]

Had a Pegasus, be happy, my old bloud boyles, this

Must my peace secure, such sores as these must

[Page]Have a desperate cure.

Exeunt.

Enter Sebast, Castab. Anton. Berinthia.

Seb.

This honor Madam of your selfe and brother,

Make me unhappy, when I remember, what

I came for, not to feast thus but to fight.

Cast.

Pitty true friendship should thus suffer.

Ant.

Ha?

Seb.

Musicke.

Ant.

Some conceit of Sforza the old Captaine▪

Lets entertaine it, some souldiers device,

A maske of Souldiers.

[...]odamercy Sfor [...].

Sfor.

To your stations now my brave brats of Millitary

Discipline, enough, Sforza honours you, looke to your

Charge Bullies, and be ready upon all occasions,

My invincible dub a dub knights of the Castle,

Qui vala.

Enter Mounte nigro, Valasco.

Val.

We must speake with Don Sebastiano.

Sfor.

Must? Th'art a Mushrumpe, mustin the Castle of El [...],

Monte nigro gives a letter.

Ant.

Friends; Sforza.

Val.

W [...]at, courting Ladies, by this time 'twas expected

You would have courted fame sir, and woed her to you;

You shall know me better.

Ant.

I doubt you'le never be better, [...]ou shall now owe me

More than you shall account for.

Seb.

Or else my curse, that word cries out for death.

Cast.

My feates perplexe me.

Anto. & Seb, whisper [...],

Val.

Madam I doe wonder

You can forget your honour, and reslect

On such unworthinesse, wherein hath Valasco

Shewed you lesse merit.

Ber.

Sir it becomes not me

To weigh your worths, nor would I learne of you

How to preserve my honour.

Seb.

Sister.

Ant.

Villandra [...].

Seb.

Then J must take my leave, for I am sent for,

I am sorry for your fate, Madam I am exepected

[Page]By a father your vertue hath made me yours.

Mount.

Oh admirable phisitian [...]

Ant.

Sfor [...], there is no remedie, but by all honour doe it,

Sister, I am to waite on him, oh my poore girle

[...] be with thee, for a

[...] my absence.

Sfor.

You may w [...]lke sir.

[...]

A [...]onio I must but now looke on, you were

Bes [...] take [...] to out live him.

Exeunt Sforza, Villandras: and Ladies.

Ant.

[...], I know not with what soule

[...] draw my sword against thee

[...]

An [...]onio I am driven in a storme

To [...] my selfe on thee, if not, any curse—

We must on sir.

Mount.

Rare man of art Sharkino.

Vil.

Guard thee Count.

Enter Sfor. Val. and Ladies above.

Cast.

Treacherous Sfor [...]a, hast thou brought us hither, to be stroke dead?

Mount.

Hold Gentlemen, give me audience.

Se [...].

Whats the matter my Lord.

Mount.

[...] I had forgot my selfe,

This is my ague day.

Seb.

How?

Mount.

Yes a sextile ague, looke you, doe you not see me shake, [...] Doctor, it will be as much as my life is worth if [...] should fight a stroke.

Seb.

Hell on such basenesse, v [...]cele engage no more;

Let our [...]words try it out.

Val.

Sebast [...]o hold, thart not so ill be friended,

Exchange a person, ile leape the battlement.

Mount.

Withall my heart, I am sorry it happens so [...] for [...]nately, oh rare phis [...]tian!

[...]

Good cozen grant it.

[...]nt.

What faies [...].

V [...].

I conjure you by all honour.

Seb.

It is granted;

Ber.

He shall nor goe.

Ant.

Mee [...]e him my Lord, you will become his place of a

[Page]Spectator best.

Enter Valasco.

Ber

Sebastiano brother.

Cast.

Antonio, here me.

Vil.

Guard thee Valasco then.

Cast.

O brother spare him for my sake.

Ber.

Sebastiano every wound thou givest him,

Drawes blood from me.

Cast.

Sebastiano, remember hees thy friend.

Ber.

Antonio tis my brother, with whose blood

Thou dyest thy sword.

Ant.

When thou liv'st againe shalt be more honorable

Kils Valasco.

Sebastiano doe you observe the advantage,

Yet thinke upon't.

Seb.

It is not in my power. I value not the odds.

Ber.

Hold, Antonio, is this thy love to me, it is not noble.

Seb.

So thy death makes the scale even.

Kils Vi [...]andras.

C [...]st.

Antonio hold, Berinthia dyes.

Ber.

Sebastiano, Castabella sinkes for sorrow, murder, helpe

I will leape downe.

Ant.

Where art Berinthia, let me breath my last upon thy lip, make haste, least I die else.

Seb.

Antonio before tho [...] dyest cut off my hand, art wounded mortally?

Ant.

To die by thee is more then death, Sforza be honest,

But love thy sister for me, I me past hope,

Thou hast undone another in my death.

Enter Berinthia, Sforza, Mount.

Ber.

Antonio stay oh cruell brother▪

Ant.

Berinthia thy lip farewell, and friend, and all the world.

Sfor.

The gate is open, I am sworne to render.

Ber.

Hees not dead, his lips are warme, have you no balsome, a Surgeo [...]; dead, some charitable hand send my soule after him.

Seb.

Away, away.

Ber.

It will be easie to die,

All life is but a walke in misery.

Exeunt.

[Page]

Actus 5. Scaen. 1.

Enter Sebastiano.

Seb.

MY friend, my noble friend, that had deserved

Most honorably from me, by this hand

Divorc'd from life, and yet I have the use ont,

Haplesle Sebastiano; oh Berinthia,

Let me for ever lose the name of Brother,

Wilt thou not curse my memory, give me up

To thy just hate a murtherer.

Enter Villarezo.

Vil.

Ha, this must not be Sebastiano,

I shall be angry if you throw not off

This mellancholly, it does ill become you,

Doe you repent your duty, were the action

Againe presented to be done by thee:

And being done, againe should challenge from thee

A new performance, thou wouldst shew no blood

Of Vilarezoes, if thou didst not runne

To act it, though all horror, death and vengeance

Dog'd thee at thy heeles; come I am thy Father,

Value my blessing, and for other peace

Ile to the King, let me no more see thee cloudy.

Exit

Enter Diego, Castabella like a page.

Die.

That was his Father.

Cast.

No more, farewell, be all silence.

Exit Diego

Cast.

Sir.

Seb.

Hees newly gone that way, mayst soone ore take him

Cast.

My businesse points at you sir.

Seb,

At me, what newes? thou hast a face of horrour, more welcome speake it.

Cast.

If your name be Don Sebastiano, sir

I have a token from a friend.

Seb.

I have no friend alive boy, carry it backe,

Tis not to me, I've not another friend

In all the world.

Cast.

[Page]

He that hath sent you sir this gift, did love you,

Youle say your selfe he did.

Seb.

Ha, name him prethee.

Cast.

The friend I came from was Antonio.

Seb.

Thou lyest, and thart a villane, who hath sent thee

To tempt Sebastianoes soule to act on thee

Another death, for thus afrighting me.

Cast.

Indeede I doe not mocke, nor come to afright you

Heaven knowes my heart, I know Antonioes dead,

But twas a gift he in his life design'd

To you, and I have brought it.

Seb.

Thou dost not promise cozenage, what gift is it?

Cast.

It is my selfe sir, while Antonio liv'd, I was his boy,

But never did boy loose so kinde a Master, in his life he

Promised he would bestow me, so much was his love

To my poore merit, on his dearest friend,

And nam'd you sir, if heaven should point out

To overlive him, for he knew you would

Love me the better for his sake, indeed

I will be very honest to you, and

Refuse no service to procure your love

[...]d good opinion to me.

Seb.

Can it be

Thou wert his boy, oh thou shouldst hate me then,

Th'art false, I dare not trust thee, unto him

Thou shewest thee now unfaithfull to accept

Of me, I kild him thy Master, twas a friend

he could commit thee to, I onely was,

Of all the stocke of men his enemy,

His cruellest enemy.

Cast.

Indeede I am sure it was, he spoke all truth,

And had he liv'd to have made his will, I know

He had bequeathed me as a legacy

To be your boy; alas I am willing sir

To obey him in it, had he laid on me

Command, to have mingled with his sacred dust,

My unprofitable blood, it should have beene

A most glad sacrifice, and 'thad beene honour

[Page] To have done him such a duty sir, I know

You did not kill him with a heart of mallice,

But in contention with your very soule

To part with him.

Seb.

All is as true as Oracle by heaven,

Dost thou beleeve so?

Cast.

Indeede I doe.

Seb.

Yet be not rash;

T [...]is no advantage to belong to me,

I have no power nor greatnesse in the Court,

To raise thee to a fortune, worthy of

So much observance as I shall expect

when thou art mine.

Cast.

All the ambition of my thoughts shall be

To doe my dutie sir.

Seb.

Besides, I shall afflict thy tendernesse

With sollitude and passion, for I am

Onely in love with sorrow, never merry,

Weare out the day in telling of sad tales,

Delight in sighes and teares; sometimes I walke

To a Wood or River purposely to challenge

The bouldest Eccho, to send backe my groanes

Ith' height I breake e'm, come I shall undoe thee.

Cast,

Sir, I shall be most happy to beare part

In any of your sorrowes, I nere had

So hard a heart but I could shed a teare

To beare my Master company.

Seb.

I will not leave thee if thou'lt dwell with me

For wealth of Indies, be my loved boy,

Come in with me, thus Ile begin to do

Some recompence for dead Antonio.

Enter Berinthis,

Ber.

So I will dare my fortune to be cruell,

And like a mountanous peece of earth that suckes

The balls of hot Artillery, I will stand

And weary all the gunshot; oh my soule

Thou hast beene too long icy Alpes of snow;

Have buried my whole nature, it shall now

Turne Element of fire, and fill the ayre

With bearded Come [...]s, threatning death and horrour

[Page] For my wrong'd innocence, contemn'd, disgrac [...]d,

Nay murther'd, for with Antonio

My breath expired, and I but borrow this

To court revenge for justice, if there be

Those furies which doe waite on desperate men,

As some have thought, and guide their hands to mischiefe.

Come from the wombe of night, assist a maide

Ambitious to be made a monster like you;

I will not dread your shapes, I am dispos'd

To be at friendship with you, and want nought

But your blacke aide to seale it.

Enter Mounte Nigr [...] and Ansilva.

Mount.

First ile locke up thy

Gives her gold,

Tongue, and tell thee my honorable meaning, so,

To tell you the truth, it is a love-powder, J had it of the

Brave Doctor, which I would have thee to suger

The Ladies cup withall, for my sake wo't do't:

And if I marry her shat find me a noble

Master, and thou shalt be my chiefe Gentlewoman

In Ordinary; keepe thy body loose, and thou shalt

Want no gowne I warrant thee; wo't do't.

Ans.

My Lord, I thinke my Lady is much taken with your

worth already, so that this will be superfluous,

Mount.

I Nay think she has cause enough, but I have a great

Mind to make an end on't, to tell you true, there are

Halfe a dozen about mee, but I had rather she should have

Me than an other; and my blood is growne so boysterous

For my body, thats another thing; so that if thou wilt

Doe it Ansilva, thou wilt doe thy Lady good service,

And live in the favour of Count de Monte Nigr [...];

I will make thy children kinne to me, if thou wo't

Do't.

Ans.

I am your honours handmaid, but—

Mount.

Heres a Diamond, prethee weare it, be not modest.

Ans.

'Tis done my Lord, urge it no further.

Mount.

But be secret too for my honors sake, we great men

Doe not love to have our actions laid open to the

Broad face of the world, Ile get thee with child,

And marry thee to a Knight, my brave Ansilva, take

[Page] The first opportunity.

Ans.

Jf there be any vertue in the powder, prepare to

Meete your wishes my noble Lord.

Moun.

Thy Count de monte nigro expect to be a Lady.

Exit.

Ber.

Ansilva.

Ans.

Madam.

Ber.

Nay you neede not hide it, I heard the conference,

And know the vertue of the powder, let me see it

Or ile discover all.

Ans.

I am undone.

Ber.

No, here take it againe, ile not prevent

My sisters happinesse and the Counts desire,

I am no Tell-tale good Ansilva giv't her,

And heavens succeede the operation,

I begge on my knee; feare not Ansilva,

I am all silence.

Exit.

Ans.

Indeede Madam, then shee shall have it presently.

Exit.

Enter Sebastiano, Castabella.

Cast.

Sir, if the opportunity I use

To comfort you be held a fault, and that

I keepe not distance of a servant, lay it

Vpon my love; indeede if it be an errour

It springs out of my duty.

Seb.

Prethee boy be patient;

The more I strive to throw off the remembrance

Of dead Antonio, love still rubbes the wounds

To make them bleede afresh.

Cast.

Alas they are past,

Binde up your owne for honours sake,

And shew love to your selfe, pray do not lose your reason,

To make your griefe so fruitlesse; I have procur'd

Some musicke sir to quiet those sad thoughts,

That makes such warre within you.

Seb.

Alas good boy, it will but adde more weights

Of dulnesse on me, I am stung with worse

Than the Tarantula, to be cur'd with musicke

'T has the exactest unity, but it cannot,

Accord my thoughts.

Cast.

Sir this your couch

[Page] S [...]emes to invite so small repose;

Oh I beseech you taste it, ile begge

A little leave to sing;

She sings

Enter Berinthia.

Sweete sleepe charme his sad sences, and gentle

Thoughts let fall your flowing numbers, here round

About hover cae [...]estiall Angels with your wings

That none offend his quiet, sleepe begins

To cast his nets o're me too, ile obey,

And dreame on him, that dreames not what I am.

Ber.

Nature doth wrestle with me, but revenge

Doth arme my love against it, justice is

Above all tie of blood Sebastiano

Thou art the first shalt tell Antonioes ghost

How much I lov'd him.

She stabbes him upon his couch; Castab. rises and runnes in.

Seb.

Oh stay thy hand Berinthia? no

Th'ast don't, I wish thee heavens forgivenesse, I cannot

Tarry to heare thy reasons, at many doores,

My life runnes out, and yet Berinthia

Doth in her name give me more wounds then these,

Antonio, oh Antonio, we shall now

Be friendes againe.

Dies.

Ber.

Hees dead, and yet I live, but not to fall

Lesse then a conftellation, more flames must

Make up the fire that Berinthia

And her revenge, must bathe in.

Enter Catalina poysoned, pulling Ansilva by the haire.

Cast.

Sebastiano, sister.

Ans.

murder.

Cat.

Theres wild-fire in my bowells, sure I am poysoned;

Oh Berinthia.

Ber.

Ha, ha.

Cat.

Helpe me to teare Ansilva, I am poysoned by

The Count and this fury.

Ber.

Ha, ha.

Cat.

Doe you laugh hereat.

Ber.

Yes queene of hell to see thee

Sinke in the glory of thy hope for blisse:

But art sure th' art poysoned, ha?

Ans.

Nay I have my part on't, I did but sip, and my belly

[Page] Swelleto [...]; call you this love-powder, Count Monte

Nigro hath poysoned us both.

Ber.

Y'are a paire of witches, and because

Ile keepe your potion working, know y'are both

Poyson'd by me, by me Berinthia,

Being thus tormented with my wrongs,

I arm'd my selfe with all provision

For my revenge, and had in readinesse

That faithfull poyson which ith' opportunity

I put upon Ansilva for the exchange

Of the amorous powder; oh fooles, my soule

Ravish thy selfe with laughter, politsion

My eldest divell sister, does the heate

Offend your stomacke, troth charity, a little charitie

Th'onely Antidote, thats cold enough:

Looke heres Sebastiano;

Now horrour strike thy soule, to whose fearelesse heart

I sent this punyard, for Antonioes death;

And if that peece of thy damnation

Ansilva had not don't, I meant to have writ

Revenge with the same point upon thy breast;

But I doe surfeit in this brave prevention:

Sleepe, sleepe Antonioes ashes, and now ope

Thou marbell chest to take Berinthia

To mingle with his dust.

Wounds her selfe.

Cat.

I have not so much heart as to curse, must I die?

Enter Vilarezo, Castabella, Mounte Nigro.

Cast.

Here my Lord, alas hees dead, my Sebastiano

Vil.

Catalina.

Cat.

I am poyson'd.

Vil.

Ha, Defend good heaven, by whom.

Ans.

I am poysoned too.

Vil.

Racke not my soule amazement, tis a dreame sure.

Ans.

Your Love-powder hath poysoned us both.

Mou.

What will become of me now, I would I were hang'd

To be out of my paine, by this flesh, as I am a Count.

I bought it of the Doctor for good love-powder;

But Madam I hope you are not poysoned in earnest.

Cat.

The devill on your fooleship, oh I must walke

[Page] The darke foggy way that spits fire and brimstone,

No physicke to restore me? send for Sharkino, a cooler

A cooler, there [...] a Smiths forge in my belly, and the

Devill blowes the Bellowes, Snow-water, Berinthia

Has poysoned me, sinke by mine owne engine;

I must hence, hence, farewell, will you let me die so?

Confusion, torment, death, hell.

Mount.

I am glad with all my heart that Berinthia has

Poysoned her, yet—

Ber.

Oh it becomes thee bravely, heare me sir.

Antonioes death and my dishonours now

Have just revenge; I stabb'd Sebastiano, poy [...]oned my sister,

Oh but they made too soone a fury of me,

And split the patience, from whose dreadfull breach

Came these consuming fires, your passions fruitless;

My soule is reeling forth I know not whether;

Oh father my heart weepes teares, for you I dye, oh see

A maides revenge with her owne Tragedy.

Cat.

Ansilva, oh thou dull wretch, hell on thy cursed

Weakenesse, thou gavest me

The poyson, but I licke earth, hold, a gentleman

Vsher to support me, oh I am gone, the poyson

Now hath torne my heart in peeces, Moritur.

Vil.

I am Planet strucke, a direfull Tragedy, and have

I no part in't: how doe you like it, ha? wast not

Done toth' life? they are my owne children; this was

My eldest girle, this Berinthia the Tragedian,

Whose love by me resisted, was mother of all this

Horror; and theres my boy too, that slew Antonio

Valiantly, and fell under his sisters rage, what

Art thou boy?

Cast.

Ile tell you now I am no boy,

But haplesse Castabella, sister to

The slaine Antonio, I had hop'd to have

Some recompence by Sebastianoes love,

For whose sake in disguise I thus adventur'd

To purchase it, but death hath ravisht us,

And here I bury all my joyes on earth.

Mount.

[Page]

Sweet lady, heres Count de Monte nigro alive

To be your servant.

Cast.

Hence dull greatnesse.

Vil.

Were you a friend of Sebastiano then?

Cast.

Ile give you testimony.

Vil.

No, I beleeve you, but thou canst not be my daughter;

Tis false, he lies that sayes Beriathia

Was author of their deathes, 'twas Villarez [...],

A fathers wretched curiosity, dead, dead, dead.

Cast.

And I will leave the world too, for I meane

To spend the poore remainder of my dayes

In some Religious house, married to heaven,

And holy prayers for Sebastianoes soule,

And my lost brother.

Vil.

Will you so?

Cast.

I pray let Castabella have the honour

To enshrine his bones, and when my breath expires,

For sorrow promiseth I shall not live

To see more Sunnes, let me be buried by him

As neere as may be possible, that in death

Our dust may meete, oh my Sebastiano,

Thy wounds are mine.

Vil.

Come I am arm'd, take up their bodies, Castabella you

Are not chiefe mourner here, he was my sonne,

Remember that, Berinthia first, she was the

Youngest, put her ith' pithole first, then Catalina;

Strow, strow flowers enough upon em, for they

Were maides; now Sebastiano, take him

Vp gently, he was all the sonnes I had; now

March, come you and I are twinnes in this dayes

Vnhappinesse, wee'le match together, follow close

Wee'le overtake em, softly, and as we go,

Wee'le dare our fortune for another woe.

FJNIS.

[Page]

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