THE ILE OF GVLS.

As it hath been often playd in the blacke Fryars, by the Children of the Reuels.

VVritten by Iohn Day.

Imprinted at London, and are to bee sold by Iohn Hodgets in Paules Church­yard. 1606.

The Ile of Gulls.

¶. Enter seuerally 3. Gentlemen, as to see a play.
1

HOw now gallants, what ist? what ist?

2

The Ile of Gulls.

3

The Ile of Gulls, what should that be?

2

A play by the name, but come shals quarter our selues?

1

If some had had the wit to doe so in time, they might ha saude the hangman a labour. But come boy, furnish vs with stooles.

Enter Prologue.
Prol.

Pardon me sir, my office is to speake a Prologue, not to pro­uide you stooles.

1

And you were the Epilogue to sir-

2

Fie be not inciuill: dost heare youth, prethe whats he that dis­couerd your new found Land, the Ile of Gulls? what is hee?

Prol.

A meere stranger sir.

3

A stranger? the better welcome: comes hee East-ward, West-ward, or North-ward hoe?

Prol.

None of the three waies I assure you.

1

Prethe where is he?

Prol.

Not on his knees in a corner, to Apollo praying that his play may hold in a good hand at Passadge, not on the stage amongst gal­lants, preparing a bespoke Plaudite; but close in his studie writing hard, to get him a handsome suite against Sommer.

2

And where sits his friends? hath he not a prepard company of gallants, to aplaud his iests, and grace out his play.

Prol.

None I protest: Doe Poets vse to bespeake their Auditory.

2

The best in grace doe, and but for that, some that I know, had neuer had their grace in Poetry till this day.

Prol.

Then must our Author looke for a certaine disgrace, for he is altogether vnfurnisht of such a friendly audience.

1

Then he must lay his tryall vpon God and good wits. But why doth he call his play The Ile of Gulls, it begets much expectation.

Prol.

Not out of any dogged disposition, not that it figures a [...] certaine state, or priuate gouernment: farre be that supposition [...] [Page] the thought of any indifferent Auditor: and the argument beeing a little string or Riuolet, drawne frō the full streine of the right wor­thy Gentleman, Sir Phillip Sydneys well knowne Archadea, con­firmes it: onely a Duke to make tryall of certaine experiments, re­tyres with his retinue into a Namelesse desart. Now as well for fashi­on sake, as that all those which haue to doe in that desart, are guld in the reach of their hopes, therefore hee calls it, (and as hee presumes, not improperlie) The Ile of Gulls.

1

Out a question he hath promised thee some fee, thou pleadest so hard for him, but and he be a right Poet hee will neuer performe it. But what method obserues hee in his play, ist any thing Criticall? Are Lawyers fees, and Cittizens wiues laid open in it: I loue to heare vice anotomizd, & abuse let blood in the maister vaine, is there any great mans life charactred int?

Pro.

None I protest sir, only in the person of Dametas he expres­ses to the life the monstrous and deformed shape of vice, aswell to beget a lothing of abuse, as that his villanie may giue the greater lu­ster to the vertuous dispositions of true-borne gentilitie.

1

All thats nothing to mee, and there be not Wormewood water and Copperes int, Ile not like it, should Apollo write it, and Rosius himselfe act it.

2

Fie vpon thee, thou art too too Criticall: is there any good bau­dry int, iests of an ell deepe, and a fathome broad, good cuckolding, may a couple of young-setters vp learne to doe well int? Giue me a sceane of venery, that will make a mens spirrits stand on theyr typ­toes, and die his bloode in a deepe scarlet, like your Ouids Ars A­mandi, there flowes the true Spring-head of Poetry, and the verie Christall fount of Parnassus.

Prol.

Chast eares would neuer endure it sir.

2

Chast eares, now deafenes light vppon em, what should chast eares doe at a play.

3

Tis strange now, I am of neither a both your opinions, I like neither rayling nor baudry: no, giue mee a stately pend historie, as thus, The rugged windes, with rude and ragged ruffes. &c.

2

Fie vpont, meere Fustian; I had rather heare two good baudie iests, then a whole play of such teare-cat thunderclaps.

Prol.

Alas Gentlemen, how ist possible to content you? you will [...] rayling, and inuectiues, which our Authour neither dares, nor [Page] affects: you baudy and scurrill iests, which neither becomes his mo­destie to write, nor the eare of a generous Auditory to heare: you must ha swelling comparisons, an [...] bumbast Epithites, which are as fit for the body of a C [...]edie, as Hercules shooe for the foote of a Pygmey: yet all these we must haue, and all in one play; or tis alrea­die condemnd to the hell of eternall disgrace.

1

Looke toot, if there be not gall int, it shall not passe.

2

If it be not baudie, tis impossible to passe.

3

If it be both Criticall and baudy, if it be not high written, both your Poet and the house to, loose a friend of me.

Prol.

Nay I beseech you sir, if you be his friend, stand so to him still, for he hath too many enemies already, in whose iudgements, he and his labours stand excommunicate, as though vnworthy to pre­sent themselues in this assembly.

1

Enemies, nays foote then theres some hope in's play, for Enuie neuer workes but against desert and merrit. If hee be enuied theres some worth in him, and Ile see out his play for that onely.

2

Faith and Ile see an act or two out, but I tell you afore-hand I cannot see it out.

3

Not see it out? your reason.

2

Fore God I lay in bed till past three a clock, slept out my din­ner, and my stomacke will toule to supper afore fiue, therefore you must pardon me.

Prol.

Either see it all or none; for tis growne into a custome at playes, if any one rise (especially of any fashionable sort) about what serious busines soeuer, the rest thinking it in dislike of the play, tho he neuer thinks it, cry mew, by Iesus vilde; and leaue the poore hart­lesse children to speake their Epilogue to the emptie seates.

3

Why doost thinke thy audience like a flock of sheepe, that one cannot leape ouer a hedge, but all the rest will follow, they ha more of reason in them then so.

2

Well, Ile sit out the play, and be but to auoyd that sheepish im­putation, but see it be baudy, or by this light I and all my friends will hisse.

Prol.

You should not deale gentleman-like with vs els.

Prologue.
The miserie that waites vpon the pen
Of the best Writers, iudge it gentlemen,
Let them expresse the very soule of wit,
[Page] And want Opinions voice to countnance it,
Tis like the idle buzzing of a flie,
Heard, not regarded: wretched Poetrie:
If a write mirth, tis Rybaldry, and meane,
Scornd of chast eares. If he compose a Sceane
Of high writ Poesie, fitting a true stage,
Tis counted fustian: If portick rage
Strike at abuse, or ope the vaine of sinne,
He is straight inform'd against for libelling.
Neither quick mirth, inuectiue, nor high state,
Can content all: such is the boundlesse hate
Of a confused Audience: Then we
That scarcely know the rules of Poesie
Cannot scape check. Yet this our comfort is,
The wise will smile to heare th' impartiall hiss.
We neither bragge, nor tremble, faint nor intreat,
Our merrits nothing, yet our hopes are great,
Yet this our Author bad me boldly speake,
His play shall passe, let Enuie swell and breake,
Detraction he scornes, honours the best,
Ta [...]ti for hate; thus low to all the rest.
Exit.

Actus primi. scena prima.

¶Enter Basilius, Gynetia, Hipolita, Violetta, Lord attendants.
Basil:

Welcom gallants, welcom honord bloods; the reason that we haue vncloth'd vs of our princely gouernment in Arcadia, and haue to doe with this priuate retirement heere in this defart Ile, you shall find in that shedule, onely thus much for publique satisfaction: Tis not strange to you, that the choisest treasure Nature indow'd vs with, is mynde vp in the vaines of my two daughters: howe much their quiet, and the smothe streame of our gouernment in Arcadia, was troubled by the impetuous concourse of vnruly suters, is familiar with your knowledge; this to auoide, I haue for my Image there in my absence appointed my brother, and vndertooke this priuate re­tirement.

Gy.

Why my lord, are you so couetous of your daughters beauties, that their perfections shall be a meanes to hinder their preferment?

Basi.

Rather to further it faire Queene: they are the onely pearles of our age, and to see them well set in honourable and wel-befitting

[Page] Marriage, is our wishes happines.
To which effect we haue sent a generall challenge
To all the youthfull bloods of Affrica,
That whosoeuer (borne of princely stem)
Dares foote the bosome of this desart Ile,
(The stage where Ile performe this louers prize)
And by his wit and actiue pollicie,
Wooe, win, intice, or any way defeate
Me of my charge, my daughters of their harts,
Shall with their loues weare my imperiall crowne
Wreathe of their conquest.
Hip.

A prize, a prize, rare worke for Fencers.

Viol.

What coward would not venter a crackt crowne for such a bootie?

Basil.
To that intent our Iland is fenc't in
By sea and Land, and at each corner built
A Castle for defence, which like great men
Doe ouer-looke Archadea: ouer which,
We haue appointed Captaines. More to desire,
Is more then we are willing to discouer.
Hip.

Well then sister, I see we must to hap-hazard for husbands.

Viol.

God send me one with a good face and I care not.

Hip.

Loue and be thy will, send mee one with a fayre table in his forhead, like Time.

Ʋiol.

Nay, and his face be good, let mee alone to tricke his fore­head, a country-gentlewoman taught me how: But father I wonder how you dare vndertake such a peremptory challenge against all cōmers, considering you haue beene so long troubled with an Ague.

Basil.

An ague? what ague?

Hip.

VVhy your quotidian, Dametas the Court surfet, hee that dwells in your eye, like a disease in your blood.

Ʋiol.

And the Presence were not exceeding empty-stomackt, it would neuer disgest such Almes-basket-scraps, the very fall & gar­bidge of gentry; fie vpon him, he becomes the great chamber worse then a Gentleman-vsher with wry legges.

Hip.

He is the most mishapen sute of gentility that euer the Court wore.

Ʋiol.

Had hee not beene of my fathers owne making, I should ha condemnd his taylor for an exceeding botcher.

Basil.
[Page]

If you retaine the loue of children, or the dutie of subiects, expresse it in your obedience, we know Dametas loues vs.

Ʋilet.

As Captaines and Courtiers do old widdowes, for profit and preferment.

Basil.

In signe whereof we make him.

Hip.

Nay, you haue bestowed too much of the making of him vp already.

Viol.

The very making of him vp, has stood you in more then the whole our sides worth.

Basil.

In my free thoughts you wrong him, therefore to expresse our loue, and to giue the world publique note of his loyaltie, we cre­ate him your Gardian.

Viol.

How father, my Gardian.

Basil.

I mynion, yours.

Viol.

Doe you heare father, bid him bespeake Spectacles, for my fingers haue vowd to haue a blind match with his eyes.

Basil.

Well said Haggart, Ile make your proud hart stoope to the lure of obedience. But come, by this time our challenge is publisht, and our gallants wits sweating in the fielde of Inuention, and it be­houes vs not to rest vnexercised.

So to our lodge, in the meane time be it knowne,
Our breath has power to raise, or cast men downe.
Exeunt.
Enter two Captaines.
1 Cap.

Now Captaine Obseruation, times bawde, thou that hast kept the Ages doore, whilst vp-start basenes crept into the bedde of greatnesse, what doost thou thinke of this change?

2 Cap.

That it pleasd the Duke, and becomes not subiects to ex­amine his actions.

1 Cap.

Thats no part of my meaning, yet would I gladly be bet­ter instructed why the Duke broke vp his Court in Archadea, and remoued it into this Iland?

2 Cap.

I am not Secretarie to his thoughts, but the generall m­mour is, that out of the freenes of his spirit, hee hath sent a challenge to all his neighbor Princes, that who soeuer (within a twelue month) can defeate him of his daughters, shall with theyr loues, inioy his dukedome, the garland proposde for the victors.

1 Cap.

Your words throw sence into mee, and thats the cause the Iland is so surely guarded with watch-towers, ouer which our selu [...] [Page] and other Captaines haue the charge.

2 Cap

And to the end, that not affection, but desart may prooue victor, are the two Ladies so narrowly obserud, the one neuer out a the eye of her Father, the other continually in the lodge of Dametas, the Dukes chiefe director.

1 Cap.

If inquisitiuenesse be not too bolde a guest, what doe you thinke of Dametas.

2 Cap.

As of a little hillock, made great with others ruines.

1 Cap.

Your comparison holds, for by report, his auarice has vn­made many to make him vp.

2 Cap.

How did he first stumble on the Princes fauour?

1 Cap.

As some doe vpon offices, by fortune and flatterie, or as truth saies, the Prince hauing one day lost his way, wandring in the woods found this Dametas, affected his discourse, tooke him along to the Court, and like great men in loue with their owne dooings, countenanct his defects, gaue him offices, titles, and all the additions that g [...]e to the making vp of a man worshipfull.

2 Cap.

I cannot but commend the Duke for raysing him, nor yet praise him, that he proportions not his carriage aunswerable to his fortunes.

1 Cap.

Your thoughts and mine are twynnes in that: but I heare the warning bell, some strangers are ariued.

2 Cap.

Lets to our office then, and conduct them to Dametas, whose custome is to spet & hem, whilst his scribe Maior takes they [...] Examinations.

Exeunt.
Enter Dametas and Manasses.
Dame.

Manasses, how doost like my play at Tennys?

Manas.

You play well Sir, but you loose still.

Dame.

Pollecie Manasses, pollicie, for when any man vpbraides me with my gettings at Court, I may sweare trulie I haue lost more then I haue got byte.

Manas

By the Tennis court I thinke you haue.

Dam.
If by any Court, tis enough to saue mine oath.
But what doe our spruce witted gallants say of my bounty.
Ma.

Faith sir according to the proportion of it, little or nothing they say tis a banckrout, and dares not shew his head.

Dame.

Then let em leaue resting at me, though it please the Duke for some fewe good parts that he sees in me, to make me his familiar, [Page] I scorne to be publique, or euery Courtiers companion: but who comes heere?

Enter the two Captaines, with Aminter & Iulio two Princes, attyred one like a poore souldior, the other like a poore scholler.

The Captaines of the watch-towers? what newes with you.

1 Cap.

A couple of peticioners, ant like your worship.

Dam.

Had I best take theyr peticions Manasses?

Ma.

O in any case, though you neuer peruse em, tis the onelie course in request.

Dam.

Fellowes, deliuer your peticions to my scribe Maior, and dost heare, put em vp Manasses, they may be wrongs to vs.

Manas.

And they be, I hope they be not the first wrongs I haue put vp for your worship.

put vp their papers.
1 Cap.

That fellowes pocket is like a Taylers hell, it eates vp part of euery mans due: tis an Executioner, and makes away more inno­cent petitions in one yeere, then a red-headed hang man cuts ropes in an age.

Dam.

Now, what are you sirra?

Amin.

A poore souldier ant like your worship.

Da.

Poore souldiers doe not like my worship, they are bad mem­bers.

Manas.

Then if they had a woman to their Iudge, they should be sure to be cut off, for they cannot indure badde members in a Com­mon-wealth.

Dam.

What are you?

Iuiso.

A poore scholler, ant like your worship.

Dam.

Poore schollers doe not like our worship neither, they raile against rich Cormorants, they are bad members to.

Manas.

Cut them off both sir, and make the Land an Eunuch.

Dam.

Ile take order with em I warrant thee, and I may haue my will, Ile ha neither poore scholler nor soldior about the Court.

1 Cap.

The next way to make it the Ile of fooles.

Dam.

Whats he talkes of fooles there? why how now sir, knowe you to whom you speake?

1 Cap.

Cry your worship mercy, I had forgot your authoritie.

Dam.

But I remember well enough I warrant you, I commaund you, in my name and the Dukes, to attend your gard, and you re­gard mee no more then a carelesse Lawyer doth an vndone clyant, [Page] but Ile informe: the Duke shall know, out, pack.

2 Cap.

Commaund your slaues sir, we are gentlemen.

Dam.

Why so I hope are wee sir, and of the best and last edition, of the Dukes owne making.

1 Cap.

Cry your authoritie mercy, will you discharge vs of these passengers?

Dam.

You are dischargd, about your busines.

1 Cap.

Bad fate, that wrong should set his foote on right, And true borne Eagles stoope to this base kyte.

Exeunt.
Dam.

What an excellent trade it is to be an officer maker, Ile haue more officers, and one shall be to keepe schollers and souldiers out of the Court, for they dare not come in the great Chamber alreadie, for want of good clothes. But gods me Manasses, goe tell the Duke I must speake with him.

Manas.

Presently sir, Ile go fetch the head to giue the foote a pos­set: and my maister had wit to his villanie, he would make an excel­lent dish for the hangman.

Exit.
Amin.

Right worshipfull.

Dam.

I sir, I knowe my place is worshipfull, I tell thee knaue I could hang thee by my pattent, if it were granted once, Ile tell thee how it runnes, It allowes mee 24 knaues, 6 Kinghts, 10 fooles, 13 fellons, and 14 traytors by the yeere, take em howe, why, when, and where I please.

Iulio.

I doe not thinke the Duke will euer grant it.

Dam.

Why not grant it? why should you thinke he wil not grant it. Such another word & Ile send you to Limbo instanthe.

Amin.

We thanke you good Dametas.

discouer themselues.
Iulio.

I hope youle take reasonable baile for our forth-comming.

Am.

The case is alterd with you since you came out of Archadea.

Dam.

My honorable friends, Iulio and Aminter, my selfe and the best abilitie of my power, lies at your seruice.

Amin.

You see how confidentlie wee presume vpon your Letters promise, in furthering vs to attaine the louers prize.

Dam.

The Dukes daughters are your owne, and in a word thus shall you attaine em, some 3 daies hence I will appoint a hunting, to which I will invite the Duke & both his daughters: in this hunt will I vpon some suddaine occasion deuide the traine▪ and hauing singled out the two Does, I hope you haue wit enough to strike.

Amin.

To strike, how meane you.

Dametas.
[Page]

As headsmen doe, of with their maiden-heads, or if the Duke offer resistance, of with his crowne to.

Iulio.

That were violence, & cleane opposite to the intent of the challenge.

Dam.

Come ye are shallow, too't vi et armis, too't, Ile be your se­cond, thinke of the crowne, ha my Letters trauaild for you, my wit wrought for you, and my inuention sweat for you, to possesse you of your loues, and seate you in the Dukedome, & come you now with tis violence, and against the intent of the challenge, I am ashamd to heare you.

Iulio.

Nay Dametas, and your resolution be so forward, ours shal ouer-take you, wee doubted least the preferments your Lord hath heapt vpon you, had smotherd your affection to vs ward.

Amin.

That was the father that begot the doubt in vs, you will appoint the hunt.

Dam.

Seuer the Duke, deuide the traine, and then.

Iul.

Wee ha your meaning.

Dam.

Put it in execution then, but first entertaine some new dis­guise, as at our next meeting Ile informe you. Adiew, I shall thinke long till I see you agen.

Exit.
Amin.

As a Lawyer doth for his clyant for a second see. Heeres no Iudas?

Iulio.

Yes, and a damnd one to, for hee would betray and sell his Maister.

Amin.

Tis common in such base fellowes, such Court-spyders, that weaue their webbes of flatterie in the eares of greatnesse, if they can once entangle them in their quaint trecherie, they poysen em straight.

Iulio.

They are like vnnecessarie wormes, whō the son of greatnes creates of the grosse and slimie multitude, as soone as they recouer strength, they eate into the credite of true borne gentrie, vndermine and worke out the true nobilitie, to inroote & establish themselues.

Am.

And in the end, like Esops staru'd snake, hauing lapt the sweet milk of greatnes, made themselues strong in authoritie and friendes, they turne their stings of enuie into their preseruers bosome.

Iul.

The example liues in this Dametas, who notwithstanding the Duke hath raisd him to that height that hee lookes equall with him­selfe, yet for the base hope of incertaine gouernment, hee offers him [Page] to sale, but let his treason liue to the last minute.

Amin.

For my part Ile make that vse of him that Phisitions do of poyson, vse as much of him as serues for mine honest intent, & cast downe the rest, as vnfit for any necessary imployment.

Iulio.

Let our carriage in this attempt put on no show of violence either to the Duke, or his daughters.

Amin.

And let our discourse goe so smoothly apparrelled, that it moue not the patience of the most tender eare.

Iulio.
About it then, though his intent be base,
Our enterprise shall weare a noble face.
Exeunt.
Enter Lisander like an Amazon.
Lisan.
Archadea, thou heauen, within whose spheare
The starre that guides my motion is fixt,
I court thy gracious bosome with a kisse
For this admittance: in thine amorous armes
Faire Ʋioletta, fayrer then the flower
That christned her, and grac't her with that name
Doe play the wanton:
Onely her Father like a couetous Churle,
Owner of that vnvalewed Diamond,
Hath made this desart Ile th'vnwilling chest
In which he locks her. But the fayre aduantage
Of this large challenge, and my starres to friend,
Ayded by this disguise, I shall breake ope
His yron Casket, and inlarge my hope.
Enter Dametas, and Manasses.
Manas.

This way she went sir, this way.

Dam.

But I say this way, I would thou shouldst know, we olde Courtiers can hunt a Cony, and put her to the squeake, & make her cry out like a young married wife of the first night.

Manas.
For more helpe, as some of them haue done,
But there she is.
Dam.

Ile vpon her presently, doost heare me firra, thou vessall of infirmitie, woman, and by thy out-side little better then one of the wicked, come hether and show thy selfe before vs, show thy selfe be­fore Dametas.

Lisan.
Dametas, Lisander then dissemble,
For hee's the man must worke thy entrance.
Dam.
[Page]

What art thou, speake.

Lisan.
My mother is the Queene of Amasons,
My selfe a virgin, married vnto Armes
And bold archieuements, who haue pac'd the world
In quest of fayre Autioste my sister:
And turning homeward, the inconstant windes
And wrathfull Neptune cast me on this shore.
Dame.

And whats your busines now you are landed?

Lisan.

My busines is priuate with the Duke.

Dam.

The Duke is busie, and shall speake with no body.

Lisan.

I beseech you sir.

Dam.

Tis no beseeching matter I assure you.

Manas.

No, neuer beseech for the matter, for except you could beseech with the tongue of Angels, tis to no purpose with him.

Lisan.

Tis strange, I haue heard thy maister is a very good man where he takes.

Manas.

True, where he takes he is, but hee takes nothing of you, and therefore looke for no kindnesse from him.

Lisan.

Good, and doost thou take after thy maister?

Ma.

No madam, I take commonly afore my maister, for where he takes, he takes all, and leaues nothing for me to take.

Lisan.

Oh, I feele your meaning.

Ma.

Let my maister haue some feeling of yours, and heele pre­set your sute.

Lisa.

Tis not the Dukes pleasure Peticioners should buy theyr accesse.

Ma.

Als one, tis my maisters pleasure, and vsuall fashion.

Lisan.

And I must maintaine the fashion. Worshipfull Dametas, my late shipwrack as you see, hath made a defeate both of my friends and treasure, notwithstanding, Fortune hath reseru'd me one Iewell, which if I might request your worshippe in loue to accept, and be a meanes to worke my admittance to the Duke, I should become a true detter to your loue.

Dame.

VVell Madam, tho I hate nothing more then a man that takes brybes, yet prest by your importunitie, and that you tender it in loue, least I might seeme too nice to withstand a Ladies fauour, Ile weare it for your sake, and if the Duke be not too busily imployd, worke your accesse.

Lisan.
[Page]

So dooing, you shall performe the office of a dere-bought friend.

Exit Dametas.
Manas.

How quickly the tyde's turnde, but doe you heare Ma­dam, tho I take neither afore nor after my Maister, yet take my counsell, & doe not trust my maister: If you haue a sute to the Duke keepe it to your selfe, for if you trust my maister with it, heele prefer it for you, but heele begd for himselfe.

Lisan.

Thats plaine coosnage.

Ma

Fie no, tis cunning in him, marry twould bee though little better then coosnage in a country gentleman: but he returnes.

Enter Dametas agen.
Dam.

Madam, I haue beene earnest, very earnest with the Duke for your admittance.

Lisan.

And haue you wrought it?

Dam.

I haue, marry you must thinke I bestowd much labor int.

Lisan.

Tmay be you did.

Da.

Tmay be you did: & looke a seance like a Pothecaries wife pounding Colliquintida, haue my braines sweat for this.

Lisan.

VVhy the Iewell is right Dametas, had I but an Asse that would sweat me such pearle.

Dame.

An Asle? and sweat such pearle, Ile bar her admittance, heere take your Iewell, the Duke will allow no admittance, & I will keepe you backe.

Lisan.

Keepe mee backe, thou couldst doe no more and I were a poore mans peticioner.

Dame.

And Ile doe so much beeing a rich peticioner.

Lisan.

You cannot sir. You Court spaniell, you vnnecessarie mushrump, that in one night art sprung out of the roote of greatnes, I haue bought my admittance, and Ile hate in dspetto del fato.

Da.

I must admit her, these Ladies are so inward with our tricks, theres no good to be done vppon them: well Madam, your admit­tance is open, will ye follow.

Lisan.

With all my hart sir, Ile be the blind man and poore peti­cioner, and thou shalt play the Court spaniell with the siluer bell, & I cad me into the Presence.

Dam.
Court spaniell? mum: Ile bosome what I thinke,
Old Gibs not blind, I see altho I winke.
Exeunt.
Finis Actus primi.
Enter Demetrias a Prince, attyred like a wood-man, with him his Page.
Deme.

Boy, how doost like me in this attyre?

Page.

As the audience doe a bad play, scuruely.

Dem.

Is it not strange a prince should be thus metamorphosed?

Page

Not so strange as the metamorphosis of Aiax and like your grace.

Dem.

Grace you Aggot: hast not forgot that yet?

Page

No, and yet tis a wonder I ha not, grace beeing so fildome vsde, Ime sure they say none at some Ordenaries, for at sitting down they cannot intend it for hunger, and at rising vp, they are either drunke, or haue such mind a dice, they neuer remembe [...], my Lord then.

Deme.

No more Lord, sirra.

Page

Indeede there are many already, but is not this strange, that rich men should forsake their titles? maister then.

Deme.

Your will sir.

Page

You have left many Countries behind you in seeking your friend Lisander, and yet you cannot find him.

Dem.

True sir.

Page

I ha seene much golde lying vppon Lombards stalls, and could neuer finger penny of it.

Deme.

Very well.

Page

Nay, twas not well sir.

Dem.

What conclude you then?

Page

That you were best sit downe, and see what you ha got by your iourney.

Dam.

I haue seene a face as beautifull as heauen.

Page

Thats nothing, a prisoner sees the face of heauen it selfe, when hee lookes but out at the prison-gate, Ile stand roote, a man were as good be hangd, so a meet a handsome hangman, & a strong rope, as be in loue.

Deme.

Your reason for that.

Page

Mary this sir, hanging is end of all troubles, & loue the be­ginning. Nay further, I think a Lo [...]d cannot be sau'd, for hee is of all religions.

Dem.

Your proofe for that.

Page

This; hee thinks with the Atheist theres no GOD but his Mistris, with the Infidel no heauen but her smiles, with the papist no purgatory but her frownes, & with the familie of loue, hold it law­full to lie with her, though she be another mans wife.

Dem.

So sir, what followes?

Page

Seruing men sir, the Maister goes in before his wife, & the seruingman followes his maister.

Deme.
[Page]

Syrra forbeare, I must meditate.

Page

As the Vsurer before he parts with mony, meditate vppon the assurance.

Enter Lisander priuately, and ouer-heares them.
Lisan.
I [...] Ʋiolettaes presence ha not quencht
The memory of all things but herselfe,
I should be more familiar with that fate.
shroud & obserue.
Dem.

I haue left my country to seeke out my friend.

Lisan.

And I my country and my friend for loue.

Dem:
And in the search of him haue lost my selfe
In the strange Region of a womans eye.
Lisan:

In loue, and in Archadea.

Dem:
As much as heauen transcends the humble earth,
So towres her praise, her face differs as farre
From others, as a glo worme from a starre.
She is a princesse that my soule affects.
Page.

And rich.

Dem:

Halfe heyre vnto this Dukedome.

Page

And shee were whole heyre to the foure morrall Vertues, twere nothing: when shall I see the time that men will loue for ver­tue, or a rich h [...]yre marry a poore wench without a portion, neuer I thinke.

Dem.

Had not my friend Lisander.

Lisan.

What of me?

Dem:

L [...]nt in Thrace.

Lisan:
We had neuer met in loue,
His sillables betray him. I arrest you.
Dam:

At whose sute.

Page

Not at his Taylers in any case, for theres no greater stitch to a younger brothers conscience, then to pay for a sute of appariell when tis worne out.

Dem:

Lisander or his ghost.

Lisan.
Demetrius,
Or some illusiue tenant in his shape.
Dem:

Vnkind, why didst thou leaue my company?

Lisan:
For that which made the amorous Gods leaue heauen,
For loue: but why is Demetrius thus disguisd?
Page

For that which would make a lackanapes a Monkey, and he could get it: a tayle.

Deme:

Peace rogue.

Lisan:

Why wagge, is thy maister in loue?

Page

Faith sir he hath entred his action in Cupids court, & meanes [Page] to proceede in the sute it shou'd seeme.

Deme:

Why didst not take my counsell in thy choise?

Lisan:

Because I feard a chiding, for doubting thine honourable thoughts would not haue consented to my effeminate attempts, I stole this secret course, and manner of disguise, as best helping to ac­cesse, which it hath begot, now what accesse will bring forth, I com­mit to vnborne Industry.

Deme:

It cannot but be prosperous: onely the strict obseruance of our loues, hinders the passage of our hopes.

Lisan:

Indeed thats not the least hinderance, yet the Duke him­selfe, and my quaint disguise hath remoued it out of my way, who not onely takes mee for a woman, but hath allowd mee for my loues companion.

Dem.

Fortune deales kindly with thee, I am as farre from accesse to my loue, as when I was in Thrate.

Lisan:

Dametas is the oystershell that holdes thy pearle, our vvits must fish for him.

Dem:

VVill the Cods head byte?

Lisan:

Like an old Vsurer at a young heyres inhe [...]tance, and I h'ate ready hookt for him: and he ere he comes, my plot is to preferr [...] thee to his seruice.

Enter Dametas.
Dem:

Prethe doe, and Ile serue him in his right kind.

Lisan:

Dametas, my loue is yours.

Dame:

VVhich madam I am as proud of

Manas.

As a malecontent of a change, or an old Lady of a new fa­shion.

Li:

To be roūd I haue a sute to you in the behalfe of this woodman

Da:

To me sweet blossom, tho I be somwhat strict in mine office, I cannot be stony to Ladies. Fellow is thy petition drawne?

Dem:

Peticion.

Manas:

Your onely way to mooue a [...] by: Humbly complay­ning to your good worship, O tis most pathetick, and indeed with­out money, can doe iust nothing with authoritie.

Dam:

Come hether stripling whose sonne wert thou?

Dem:

I am not so wise a child as you take me for, I neuer knew [...] my father.

Dame:

Didst not know thy father?

Manas.
[Page]

A common fault, his betters forget themselues whē they grow rich, then blame not him to forget his father.

Dam:

VVhat was his name?

Dem:

If I may giue credite to my mother, they cald him Menal­chas, who on his death-bed made mee his heyre, with this charge, to seeke your worships seruice, & gaue me this gold as a remembrance to purchase your fauour.

Dam:

Gold him?

Ma:

Now doth my Maister long more to finger that gold, then a young girle married to an old man, dooth to runne her husband? ashore at Cuckolds hauen.

Dame:

Well, I could doe for this fatherlesse youth.

Ma:

As many Executors and Ouerseers haue doone, cheate him of his portion, and then turne him out of doores a begging.

Dam:

But for I haue the gardian ship of the Prince, I dare doe nothing without the consent of the Duke.

Lisan:

Come come sir, your worship shall not refuse him.

Dam:

Well then I wo not, but tis for your sake I assure you.

Man.

Meaning the gold.

Dam:

What shall I call thy name?

Dem:

Dorus ant like your worship.

Da.

Ah, good Dorus, be an honest youth Dorus, reuerence your Maister, and loue your selfe: be sure to get vnder me, and you shall loose nothing in my seruice. Madam, the Duke and Dutches expect you at the hunt, & await your comming at Dianaes oake.

Lisan:

Ile attend them presently, be a good seruaunt Dorus.

Dame.

Twill be his owne another day Madam.

Lisan.

In the meane time let it be yours to lead the way.

Dametas

My seruice doth attend you,

Ma.

As the Purseuant doth the prisoner for a double fee.

Exit.
Dem:
Welcome slaue to a slaue, a fayre presage,
The hope of loue sweetens loues vassalage.
Exit.
Enter Aminter and Iulio, attyred like Satyres.
Amin:

Now & Dametas be the mettle he was stampt for, a right villaine.

Iulio

And he be not, hang him.

Am:

Nay he deserues hanging to if he bee: but wil you trust him?

Iul.

Yes as farre as I see him, and hee that trusts him further my [Page] trust is he will be deceiud.

Amin:

Indeede, he that will proue false to his maker, wil be true to no man.

Iul.

Yes for the present time, like a bawde to him that giues most.

Amin:

Thats not for loue.

Iul:

Yes of the mony: he that lookes for other loue in this age. This is the place his Letter speakes of, and here he comes himselfe.

Enter Dametas like a Huntsman.
Dam:

Why so lo: now is the web of my hopes vpon the loombe of perfection, and in this quech of lashes Aminter and Iulio.

See and see not, all mum, you know your que,
The games your owne, if you can hunt it true.
Enter the Duke Basilius.
Basil.

Dametas, were thine eares euer at a more musicall banquet? how the hounds mouthes like bells are tuned one vnder another like a slothfulnes, the speed of the cry out-ran my sence of hearing.

Dam.

Crosse ouer the Forrest to Dianas oake my liedge, & there your grace advantagde by the height of the ground, shall not onelie at pleasure heare, but be eye-witnes of their musicall contention.

Bas.

Thanks good Dametas, be thy directions our wiues conuoy.

Enter Gynetia, Ʋioletta, and Hippolita.
Gyn.

Where is his highnes Dametas?

Dam:

At Adonis bower Madam, where he expects your presence to see the fleshing of a couple of Spartane hounds, in the wasting blood of the spent Deare.

Gyne.

Thankes good Dametas, mine eyes would not be good friends with my feete, should they not bring em to that kingly sport.

Dame.

Sweet Ladies, to saue you the expence of much breath▪ which must be laid out in the purchase of the game. I haue prouided you this stand, from whence your eyes may be commaunders of the sport: such sport as you little dreame of.

Ʋiol:
We are your loues detters kind Dametas.
As I loue vertue I pittie these poore beastes,
These Syluane comoners, to see what taskes
Our couetous Forresters impose vpon them,
Who not content with impost of their breath,
(Poore harts,) pursue them smiling to their death.
Dame:

Twas the end of their creation Madam.

Hip.
[Page]
So was the end of ours to liue in peace,
And not to tyrannise on harmelesse beastes,
But Forresters, like Images set forth
The tyrannie of greatnesse without pittie,
As they the Deare, so couetous wealth pursues
The trembling state of their inferiors.
And to claspe vp the volume of their sinnes,
They drinke theyr blood, and clothe them with their skinnes,
Then cease to presse poore beasts with tyrannie,
You loue your liues, thinke they are loth to die.
Dam:

You are too tender-harted to be a good huntswoman lady.

Viol:

And some of you too hard-harted, but leauing this discourse of hunting, haue all our gallantry of Lacedemon and Greece, spent the vigor of their wits, that not one dares venter.

Hip.

For our loues sister, you may see the properer women, the worse lucke.

Dam:

Tush you shall haue suters, feare not madam.

Hip.

No at any hand sister, for with a feare it comes.

Viol.

Then Ile feare of purpose, because I would haue em come.

Dam.

And they doe not, they are notable cowards.

Hip.

Then let em keepe away still, for I haue vowed my maiden-head shall neuer doe homage to the bed of a coward.

Dame:

Sweet Ladies, will you beguile a minute or two with this discourse, till I step vp to the top of the hill, and make discouerie of the game,

Viol:

Let your returne be speedy good Dametas.

Dam:

Ile put on wings and flie.

Exit.
Viol:

Out of the Court, and the whole Country shall haue a good riddance.

Amin:

So, hee hath put em faire to the stand, lets issue and surprise them,

Iulio:

Be resolute and suddaine.

Aminter and Iulio, issue out and beare them away.
Viol:

Murther, treason, reskue, helpe.

Enter first Dametas, and then the Duke.
Dam:

Yes much reskewe, much helpe, much Dametas: why so, this lest was drawn home close to the head, it cannot chuse but cleaue the very white of our hopes, the Dukes wit [...]to thy tackle good wit, some suddaine sea roome, or our stratagem is run a ground.

Basil.

Tell me Dametas, was not the Deare a prodigall, did he not [Page] spend his breath freely amongst vs?

Dam.

And his blood too my liege, but did you obserue how the hounds like politicians nosd out the game?

Ba

True: & comming to the losse Melampus, but where are our daughters?

Da.

Did you obserue that my liege, that Melampus as a true hound is euer horce cheerd or hollow, yet he kept time to.

Ba.

Certaine Dametas, but where are our daughters man?

Da.

Busie my Lord vnder a brake bush, disputing of the vertue of sweet water, and ground Iuie.

Cry within, treason, murder, reskew, helpe.
Ba.
VVhat cry of treasons that Dametas?
Pray God no danger sets vpon my daughters,
Seeke out our wife, Ile hast vnto their reskue.
Da.

And my sworde vn-imployd? allegeance: sayes nay to that my Liege, I am for the aduenture my selfe, if they bee surprisd (I am a mad man) your grace shall heare more: If not ( [...] the more sor­rie) your grace shal heare more to: make peace with your thoughts till my returne, and doubt not their recouery.

Enter the Duches with her daughters, Dametrius, Lisander. &c.
Gyn.

Speake, where's the Duke?

Basi.
Heere my Genitia.
What meane these weapons, are our daughters safe?
Viol.

As a thiefe in a [...]ill father, we thanke our redeemers.

Dam.

The more my griefe, were you surprisd then madam?

Hip.

Yes sayth Dametas.

Da.

And how sweet Ladies, and how were you reskewd?

Gyne.
Beeing surprisd, this gallant Amason
Prest to their reskew, had you seene what worth
She and this woodman spent in our defence,
Wonder would ha bereft you of all sence.
She raisde her sword with such a manly grace,
As had nor her mild sexe-contrould my thoughts,
I could haue falne in loue with her high worth.
Lisan.
You ouer price vs madam, not our dese [...]
But the weake spi [...] of our opposites.
Gaue leister to the di [...]nes of our worth.
Basil.
[Page]
It please your modesty to lesson it.
But it shall still liue great in our regard. What woodmans that?
Dame:

My follower my Liege.

Basil:
VVhat ere he be, he hath deseru'd our loue.
Fellow be neere vs, and for this desert,
Performd against those Traytors to our blood,
Vnder thy maister we giue thee an attendant,
To garde the life and safetie of our daughter.
Hip.

Thanke you good father, who euer loose by the bargaine, I ha got me a seruant by the match: wot serue me fellow?

Dem.
In the best I can.
In hart your fellow, though in show your man.
Hip.
Ile try your du [...]ious seruice: I command,
Your knee to kisse the ground, your lip my hand.
Dame.

Pardon me Madam.

Hippol.
Heeres hote loue no doubt,
I may commaund my man, and goe without.
Basil:
Truce to this ayrie warre, these paper bullets
Better become a Closset then a Parke,
The Forrest musick is to heare the hounds
Rend the thin ayre, and with a lustie cry
Awake the drowsie Eccho, and confound
Their perfect language in a mingled sound,
Then so the Court, our Forrest sport beeing done,
A second chace o [...] louelier sport's begunne.
Exeunt.
Dem:
If fortune crosse not what our hopes pursue,
Our feares haue met theyr deaths, our loues theyr due.
Exit.
Dame.

Crost in my hopes, the Ladies reskewd, and the Princes like crauens beate out of the game-place, my inuention must turne trauailer for more stratagems [...] what & I should discouer their plot to the Duke, attach em for traytors, and begge their lands for my la­bour; though they be my friends, twere a pretty parcell of pollicie.

All things are lawfull that doe profit bring,
A wise-mans bow goes with a two-fold string.
Enter Lisander, and Demetrius.
Lisan.

Did euer two princes meete such strange changes in their loues? now we haue wrought our admittance, and in a manner got [Page] em into our possessions, ou [...] hopes like false fires hauing brought vs within [...]en, vanish, and leaue vs out of all comfort.

Dem:

That the duke should doate vpon thee for a woman, makes for our purpose, but that the dutches should be enamourd on thee for a man, is prepostrous.

Lasan.

VVhether my [...] sh [...]wne in the reskue of the Ladyes, or the ardent glances her daughters beauty steales from mine eyes, giue her thoughts incouragement, I know not, but her hopes stand confi­dent I am a man, & for that cause am I bard from accesse.

Dem:

I way thy co [...]rances by mine owne, for tho by the Dukes allowance I am her priuiledged attendant, yet such is the deuilishnes of Dametas, that I cannot ioy so much accesse as to confer with her.

Page

I can compare my lord and his friend to nothing in the world so fitly as to a couple of water buckets, for whilst hope winds the one vp, dispaire plunges the other downe, whilst I like a Harl [...]kene in an Italian comedy, stand making faces at both their follies.

Lisan:

VVell, since the shape of our proceeding growes so mon­strous, lets cast our inuentions in a new mold, and hauing so firme a foundation as this disguise to build vpon, lets draw the modell, and raise the whole frame of our attempts anew.

Dem:

Indeede, louers should be conditiond like tyrants, who ha­uing the ayme of a crowne in [...] violently ouer all lets that intervent their course, and so must we.

Lisan

And so will wee, my resolutions already bent, & if I shoote not, the next leuell I take, [...] I beseech thee breake thy bow about mine eares, and strike the hornes in my forhead, for married men to hang their caps on.

Dem:

I haue met a meanes [...] my purpose already: Mopsa Dametas onely daughter, is [...] in loue with me, & to her Ile faine extreame ardor of affection, and make her the shadowe vnder which Ile court the true substance of my deuine Hippolita.

Lisan.

About it then, Ile sweat my inuention to death but Ile o­uertake thee; but heere comes one of my [...]. I must heare his importunitie, for no reasonable deniall will brush him of.

Enter the Duke.
Basil.

Zehnane.

Lisan.

My Liedge.

Basil.

My thoughts come like a saile afore the wind, swolne big with newes and thine eares the midwife must deliuer me of this bur­then, [Page] my Dutches is sick, hart sicke for thee Zelmane.

Lisan.

For mee, why my Lord, I am no Rosasolis, nor Aqua mi­rabilis to recouer sicke folkes.

Basi.

Shall I be short with thee? My Ladie's in loue with thee.

Lisan.

With me my Lord.

Basil.

With thee my Lady: her amorous glances are her accusers, her very lookes write Sonnets in thy cōmendations, shee carues thee at boord, and cannot sleepe for dreaming on thee in bedde, shee's turnd sunne-riser, haunts priuate walkes, & like a disgrast Courtier, studies the Art of melancholy.

Lisan.

Now alas good Lady.

Basil.

Nay neuer pitty her, she deserues none, rather lets bend our indeuors to intangle her more. To see the kindnes of Fortune, who fearing we should be acquainted with sollitude in this our 12 month retirement, hath begot a domesticall merriment, and made our own thoughts actors int, and as bad a Poet as I am, Ile ha one sceane int of mine owne inuention.

Lisan.

Dametas will storme at that, for he cannot indure Poetrie should be countnanst: but how ist my Liege?

Basil.

Tis ready plotted already, and that the Dutches may not find thee vnprouided when she comes to court thee

Lisan.

Court me, court a woman my Liedge.

Basil.

VVhy thats the very happinesse of the iest, but in any case confesse thy selfe a man.

Lisan.

A man my liedge, I ha no colour fort.

Basil.

Tush Ile furnish thee, say thou art some Prince, no matter who, & hast to do with this disguise of purpose to court my daugh­ter Violetta,

Li.

Is this sceane of your owne inuenting my liege?

Ba.

Mine owne yfaith, and to confirmt the rather, vse more oft & priuate conference with my daughter, interchange discourse & amo­rous dalliance, oh twill set my Dutches affections a flre, to thinke her riuald by her daughter, and giue vs smooth passage to our loue.

Li.

How occasion plaies the wanton with me. Well my liedge, do but you worke my admittance to your daughter, & Ile bestow al the art I am woorth in courting her, and see, as if Fortune had a hand in our Comedy, she hath entred the Dutches iust at her que, shadowe your selfe in your Arke, & leaue me to giue her entertainement.

Basil.

Forget not to personate some Prince in any case.

Lisan.

Ile warrant you, Ile play the Prince with much art.

Enter the Dutches.
Dutches.
This way he went, on this sweet violet bed
Still dwells the print of his enamourd tread,
The deprest flowers haue strengthened their sweete
By stealing amorous kisses from his feete.
Basil.

Absolute Poet, Penelope was a ballet-maker to her.

Dute.
Oh do not fli [...] my presence, gentle wanton stay,
What haue I found you, faith you run-away
Ile tye a chaine about your wast for this,
And make you buy your freedome with a kisse.
Lis.

Fie madam, this curtesie is more then needes▪

Dut.
Be not so coy, let not a louing Dame
Find thee lesse kind then sencelesse elements,
Thou neuer walkst, but the enamourd ayre
Like an officious louer beares thy traine,
Whilst the coole wind doth with his veluet wing
Fanne the thinne ayre vpon thy sweatie cheeke,
Stealing sweet kisses from thy silken lip.
Lisan.

Shield this vaine breath, beate at some ladies eare.

Dut.
But you are none, you are not, come you are not,
Your valor, lookes, and gesture shew you are not,
Your manly brow, and your commaunding eye,
Where war and fortune dwell in maiestie,
Your priuate walkes, and varied passions,
Your glances to my daughter, sure you are not,
And my firme loue is confident you are not.
Ba.

There's a louer of a right temper, sheele outface the name of her sexe instantly.

Lis.

Well madam, sith your obseruation hath discouerd mee, vpon promise of your secresie I confesse my selfe a man.

Basi.

Good, excellent, how truly she takes my directions.

Dut.
I knew my iudgement could not be deceiud,
Nor durst proud loue haue done me so much wrong
To cast my thoughts vnto a womans eye.
Basi.

Loue durst not, good, good, excellent, what next.

Lisan.

But madam, now I am knowne to you, what further request you.

Dut.
Exchange of lookes, and freedome of thy bed,
Thy presence, thy embracements, thy kind loue,
[Page] For which my amorous thoughts haue long line sicke.
Basil.

Thanke you good wife, nay & a Dutches long to giue her husbands the horning, let it neuer greeue butchers to doe homage at Cuekolds hauen.

Lisan.

Well madam, to giue content to your affections, and in a strong hope you will mediate my sute to your daughter, sort out but fit time and opportunitie, and maister your desires.

Basi.

And he were a man now I might be rarely tupt.

Dut.

Giue me thy hand then, with this amorous kisse I seale thee mine.

Lis.

And I confirmt with this.

Basi.

Rare, rare, rare, she's his seald and deliuerd in the presence of her husband.

D.

Now least my husband should suspect our loue,

Ba.

Now, what shadow for that now.

Du.

Heare a good iest, perswade him th'art a woman.

Lis.

Thats not to doe now madam, for he as confidently belieues and ardently courts me for a woman, as you for a man.

Du.
Good, excellent, maintaine that humor still,
Seeme coy, looke nice, and as we weomen vse,
Be mild and proud, imbrace, and yet refuse.
Basil.

Excellent vertues in a woman.

Du.
I prethe doe, twill be a sceane of mirth
For me to quote his passions and his smiles,
His amorous hauiour, and how his eye
Will beget strange varietie of lookes.
And shoote em into thine, but the cheefe sports this
To see an old man with a young man kisse.
Exit Dut.
Basi.
To see an old Dutches a young Lady kisse.
Now the plot packs the sceanes all comicall,
I cannot speake for laughter, to see these women
That would be counted wonders for their wit,
Lay plots to gull themselues, silly conceit,
Lis.

To take me for a man.

Basi.
And arme herselfe
To laugh at me, make iests and scoffes at me,
But sooth her humor, the reuenge sheede throw
Vpon my head, shall fall on her owne brow.
Exit.
Lis.

Vpon you both, so, so, so, how greedily their inuentions like bugles followes the sent of their own gullery, yet these are no fooles, [Page] God forbid, not they: but to the drift, mirth in my warme blood sits, laughing at this diuision of theyr wits.

Enter Ʋioletta and Hippolita.
Hip.

Wot te beleeue me sister, I neuer eate a cherry, but it puts me in mind of a husband, it kisses my lippes with such a harmlesse pret­tines.

Ʋil.

Now in good deede lo I loue em a life to, I thinke I shall ne­uer ha my belly full on em.

Hip.

Of what, not of husbands Violetta.

Ʋio.

No, of cherries Hipolita, but take heede of em, they be a ver [...]e filling meate, and dangerous things for vs maides I can tell you, wee may surfet after em presently.

Hip.

Surfet after what, a husband?

Vio.

I and after cherries to Hippolita.

Hip.

I warrant you sister, an old lady in Lacedemon taught mee a preseruatiue against that.

Vio.

For the loue of cherries what.

Hip.

Marry this it was, stil sayd she, betwixt euery cherry said shee, be sure to cracke a stone said she.

Ʋiol.

Then let me alone, Ile cracke a couple a stones betwixt eue­rie cherry, rather then surfet on em.

Hip.

You must take heede you cracke not too many to, for you may surfet of the stone as well as of the cherry.

Vi.

Nay & they be such dangerous things, I haue done with em.

Hip.

So haue I to for this time, but sister, is it not a strange kind of seruile libertie that we liue in heere in Archadea?

Ʋil.

For all the world as Englishmen keepe their fellons, & Itali­ans their wines, we neuer stirre abroad without our Iaylors.

Hip.

And for what cause forsooth, onely to keep vs frō mariage.

Ʋil.

Sure tis eyther some high content, or extreame discommo­ditie, that our father debarrs vs of it.

Hip.

By this stone me thinks I long like a woman with child, till I know the difference betwixt a maid and a wife.

Ʋiol.

Well, god a mercy of all cursen soules, I was neere the knowledge ont last night I can tell you.

Hip.

O that I had beene with thee I might ha beene so to: for loue of marriage how?

Vio.
VVhy thus: as I lay slumbering in my bed,
No creature with me but my maydenhead:
Hip.
[Page]

Is that a creature?

Ʋiol.
Some maintaine it is.
Got in the eye, conceiued in a kisse:
Others whose speech seeme neere akin to truth
Say tis a passion, bred ith heate of youth,
Some callt a sigh, and some an amorous grone,
All differ in the definition,
But in the allowd opinion of most,
Tis neuer truly had till it be lost.
But lying thus alone, as maydes doe vse,
Me thought I dreampt, as maydes can hardly chuse,
And in my dreame me thought twas too much wrong
A prettie maid should lie alone so long:
With that a gallant comes, gallants can doe
Much with young maydes,
Hip.

And with old women to.

Ʋio.
He couted me once, and agen, and thrice,
Tis vertue to say nay, to be too nice
Agrees not with my humor, yet some say,
We maydes wish things, to which we aunswere nay,
Breefely me thought he stood so long a wooing,
I rather could a wisht he had beene dooing
Some other busines, yet at last we greed,
Twere strange if earnest suters should not speede.
Hip.

In what agreed you?

Ʋiol.
In our wedding ring,
Time, place, and howre, indeede in euery thing:
The day appointed, and each thing in frame,
I thought each howre an age vntill it came,
VVell, come it is, the morning once in sight,
I thought it tenne times longer till twas night.
At dinner time me thought I sweld with pride
To be drunke to by name of Mistris bride,
Musicke spake loude, no delicates were scant,
Yet still me thought another thing did want,
For sure thought I, theres something in a man
That wiues loue well, hope brides may wish it than.
Long lookt for comes at last, to bed we goe.
Hip.
[Page]

Would I had dreampt I might ha done so to.

Viol.
My bed-mate turnd, and as he would ha spoke
I swe [...]t with feare, and in that feare I woke,
But seeing my kind bed-fellow was gone,
Lord how it chaft me that I wakt so soone,
One minuts dreaming longer, I had tride,
The difference twixt a virgin and a bride.
Hip.
O twould ha vext a saint, my blood would burne
To be so neere, and misse so good a turne.
Ʋio.

And so did mine to I warrant you, nay tho I be but a little pot, I shall be as soone hote as another.

Hip.

You should not be my sister else.

Ʋio.

Nor my mothers daughter neither.

Hip.

And in good ear­nest we are not fatherd much amis.

Viol.

Are you aui [...]d of that, and yfaith tell me, what thinke you of your seruant Dorus.

Hip.

As of a sweet Almond in a rugged shell, the sun in a clowde, or a welthy diamond in a rock, indeede cleane contrary to the world, he weares the worst side outward, & is much better then he seemes: but what thinke you of your manly Amazon.

Ʋio.

Nay the sport is I know not what to thinke, Zelmanes humor would afford proiect for a prettie Court comedie, my father courts her for a woman, and as I feare shee is, my mother doares vppon her for a man, and as I wish he were, and that with such an ardor of af­fection, that I could find in my hart to turne my mother out of the companie, and play the louers part my selfe.

Hip.

How euer man or woman, the iest holds currant in one.

Ʋio.

I knowe not what knauish motion hath had to doe with my thought, but my mind tells me that your seruant Dorus & my Ama­zon, are other then they seeme: and heere he comes.

Enter first Lisander, then Miso, Mopsa, Demetrius.
Miso.

Why how now madam, Ladies gadding, is this the obe­dience of your fathers charge.

Lisan.

Pardon Mistris Miso, twas my dooing and the Dukes.

Miso

But the Dutches w [...]l like neither the Dukes doings nor yours neither in this case I can tell you. The Duke staies your comming & yet the dutches is very desirous ont, my husbands is in the next Ar­bor to man you. For you Lady, my presence be your priuiledge.

Li.

Miso should be either a hangman or a Herald, for shee neuer [Page] comes amongst vs, but she quarters our company and armes.

De.

Excellent beautie, & therefore more excellent, because situate in so faire a creature.

Mops.

You are a merry man Dorus, but all this cannot make me think you loue me, how say you mother doth he.

Mi.

Mary let him chose daughter, when I was as thou art.

Hip.

You were as she is, but faith madam Mopsa, I perceiue my ser­uant Dorus beares a months mind to you, be not so straight laced to him. Mop. Straight lac'd, sgod mend me I am not lac'd at all, am I Dorus, no in soth, I goe wide ope wensday, I neuer lace my selfe but on sondaies, & that for feare I should burst with eating of plum por­ridge. Hip. I mean let fall some comfortable lookes on your suter.

Mop.

sgod mend mee Ile let fall or take vp any thing I haue to doe him good.

Hip.

Why thats kindly said, & Dorus your loue is verie ambitious, to climbe so hie as the beautifull Mopsa.

Mop.

O are you avisd of that, twold make a horse breake his bridle to heare how the youth of the village will commend me, oh the pre­tie little pincking nyes of Mopsa saies one, oh the fine flat lippes of Mopsa saies another, and then doe I bridle my head like a malt-horse thus, set mine armes a kembo thus, wrethe my necke and my bodie thus, winke with one eye thus, & spread my peacocks tayle as broad as the proudest minx of em all.

Hip.

These extraordinary graces must not want admiration, but where's your mother.

Miso.

Speake softly in the Lobby there, for waking my Ladies foisting hound.

Mop.

Godsme, my mo­thers stealing of a nap.

Hip.

Nay, she cannot be said to steale a nap, for the noise she makes herselfe would discouer her theft: but Dorus sith your fortunes are poore, you should studie to enoble your deserts, and beget effects worthy to court and win your Ladies acceptance.

Dem.

Lasse madam, I chuse no better moderater then your selfe, betwixt me and my vnworthy seruices, suppose your selfe tho but a Cucko compard with this sweet singing Nitingale, should be sued to by a prince like me, I meane like me in loue, for loue in princes & pesants admits cōparison: suppose Demetrius should in like disguise court you as I doe, Mopsa, sigh for you, as I doe, for Mopsa, kneele to you thus, as I doe, to Mopsa, lay downe his life to you, as I doe, to Mopsa, prefer your good before his owne, as I protest I do, Mopsaes, suppose he should show you the known marke of his neck, to assure [Page] you he were Demetrius, as I do this to Mopsa, to witnes I am the son of Menalchas, could your disdaine stand out like Mopsaes?

Hip.

What a kenes necessity sets vpon the edge of inuention, trust me Mopsa your seruant speakes wel, & if he can proue himselfe the man he speakes of, and my wishes wel hope, Demetrius, you haue no reason to thinke scorne of him.

Mop.

Why what should I do ma­dam, my mother tells me I must not say as I think.

Hip.

I am no counseller, but shold Demetrius in like disguise court me, thus would I imbrace him, thus seale my affections with a kisse, & thus argue: think not Demetrius that the clowds of basenes could so muffle thee, but that the sun of valor shind thro them long since, & in regard of thy seruiceable dutie in concealing, and vnpre [...]ented policy in thus making known thy loue, sort but out fit oportunity, & in despight of all gardians strict obseruance, go where thou wilt, the worth of Demetrius shall draw Hippolita, this would I vow, and this will I performe.

De.

And were I Demetrius & you Hippolita, I would deciue Dame­tas, outreach Miso, forsweare Mopsa, & forsake Archadea to share the fortunes of diuine Hippolita.

Mop.

And what should I doe then?

Dem.

I do but speake in the person of Demetrius, & vnder Hippo­lita shadow what I intend to the rare, and neuer enough wondred at Mopsa, the black swan of beauty, & madg-howled of admiration.

Mop.

Do not you flout me Dorus, & you do not, prouide a priest and Ile marry you, and my father and mother shal neuer know one.

De.

Manasses is the man.

Mop.

And Ile be the woman, who so euer say nay toote, little dreames my mother of what wee haue done.

De.

Tmay be she did, for she sigh'd & grond much in her sleepe.

Mop.

Tis wel she was so quiet, for she eate pease poridge to break­fast, & theyle make me break wind in my sleepe like a horse, and see as the deuil wil hate she wakes, and here comes my father, no words and ye loue me.

Enter Dametas.
Dam.

Why god a mercy Dorus, this dilligence becomes the ser­uaunt of Dametas, and Ile prefer thee fort.

Hip.

You were worse then the deuil els, for they say hee helps his seruants, then you may doe little & you cannot helpe yours.

Da.

Will you break your iests against the barres of you chamber windowe, & cleere the greene, the duke is comming to bowles, & I would not for halfe mine office you shold be a rub in the way of his [Page] pacience: Daughter and Wife, conduct her to the Lodge.

Exit.

And Dorus. make you haste about your businesse.

Demet.
I warrant you Sir: be my hopes rightly plast?
You will condemne me for my too much haste.
Exeunt.
Damet.

Why so: this tis to be in authoritie: Inferiour persons, I and the Princes themselues, flie from my presence, like the chir­ping Birdes from the sight of the Faulcon: my verie breath like a mighty wind blowes away inferiour Officers (the Court rubbish) out of my way, and giues me a smooth passage: I am the morning starre, I am seldome seene but about the rising of the Sunne: in­deede I am neuer out of the Dukes eye; and heere he comes.

Enter Duke, Dutchesse, Lisander, Violet.
Duke.

Doth our match hold.

Dutch.

Yes, whose part will you take.

Duk.

Zelmanes.

Dutch.

Soft, that match is yet to make.

Ʋiol.

Lets cast a choice, the neerest two take one.

Lis.

My choice is cast, helpe sweet occasion.

Viol.

Come, heere's a good.

Lis.

Well, betterd.

Dutch.

Best of all.

Lis.

The Duke and I.

Duk.

The weakest goe to the wall.

Ʋiol.

Ile lead.

Lis.

Ile follow.

Ʋiol.

We haue both one mind.

Lis.

In what?

Ʋiol.

In leauing the old folke behinde.

Duk.
Well iested daughter, and you lead not faire,
The hindmost hound, though old, may catch the hate.
Dutch.

Your last Boule come?

Viol.

By the faith a me, well led,

Lis.

Would I might lead you,

Ʋiol.

Whither?

Lis.

To my bed.

Ʋiol.

I am sure you would not?

Lis.

By this aire I would.

Ʋiol.

I hope you would not hurt me, and you should.

Lis.
[Page]

I'de loue you sweet.

Ʋiol.

Sowre, so I heard you say.

Lis.

Accept it then.

Ʋiol.

Of what acquaintance pray?

Lis.

Of loues, and mine.

Duke.

Daughter, your bowle winnes one.

Ʋiol.
None of my Maidenhead Father, I am gone,
The Amason hath wonne one.
Lis.

Yeeld to that.

Ʋiol.

The cast I doe.

Lis.

Your selfe?

Ʋiol.

Nay scrape out that.

Dutch.

Whose is it yet?

Lis.
The Dukes: play smooth and fine,
The smallest helpe that is, will make your mine.
Ʋiol.

Me yours?

Lis.
Your mine, for tho the cast I loose,
I ha wonne your loue.
Ʋiol.

Much: in my tother hoose.

Dutch.

Come, the last market this cast is worth all the rest.

Viol.

The leader as the follower.

Lis.
Badd's the best,
I winne her for ten crownes, and there they be.
Ʋiol.

I take your lay.

Lis.

A match twixt you and me.

Dutch.

Ile be your halfe.

Duk.

That were vnkindly done.

Ʋiol.

Pardon me mother, Ile beare all or none.

Lis.

I ha wonne you Madam.

Ʋiol.

Me?

Lis.

I meane your bet.

Viol.

Then take your winnings, ile not die in debt.

Lis.

Madam beleeue me, I am as I protest, a Prince, my name Lisander.

Ʋiol.

Looke to the Dukes standing Madam.

Dutch.

So I will I warrant you, and to your falling.

Lis.

Thus clouded as you see, for your loue, my soule speakes in my tongue: I appointed this match at bowles a purpose to ac­quaint [Page] you with it.

Ʋiol.
Barre stealing Father; yet and all hit right,
Heer's one would steale a piece of flesh to night.
Lis.

Deere Madam.

Viol.

No more words, I haue perceiued as much in your eie, as you can expresse with your tongue, and as farre as my mothers ie­lousie would giue me leaue, answered it with kind lookes: your bias stands wrong mother.

Dutch.

Why? It stands towards Zelmanes.

Viol.

Hath it stood so long?

Dutch.

All the game thro.

Ʋiol.

Then all your game's bold wrong: furnish you with neces­saries befitting an escape, & my wil shal be as ready to take wing, as yours; put in a cast now mother, or the game is gone indeede.

Dutch.

Whose is the throw?

Viol.
Ours, till the last bowle came.
But that hath wont'em cleere, both cast and game.
Lis.

Our winnings come, a kisse and bate the rest.

Dutch.

What doe you kisse in earnest or in iest?

Viol.

In earnest in good trueth.

Duk.
Troth, kindly sed,
Take heed you kisse not out your maidenhead.
Ʋiol.

In ieast?

Duk.

In earnest.

Ʋiol.
Tis the fashion,
Much in request among our Nation.
Duk.

To kisse away their maidenheads?

Viol.
Now and then,
And being gone, to kisse it backe agen:
For louers indentures are nea're fairely drawne,
Vntill the maidenhead be left in pawne,
As earnest of the match, so mothers sed,
And so will daughters do when Mams be dead.
Duke.

What? pawne their maidenhead?

Viol.

Yes, and loose'em too.

Dutch.

And youle maintaine that fashion?

Ʋiol.

Signeor Noe.

Musicke of Bels &c.
Duk.

Lay by this homebred mirth, and prepare your eares to entertaine strangers.

Viol.
[Page]

Stranger? why Father, Strangers are as welcome to mee, as mine owne Countrymen; if they bring good manners, & ciuill humanitie in their companie: otherwise, they are like foule wea­ther, come afore they be sent for.

Enter Dametas, Manasses, Iulio, Amintas.
Viol.

Dometas, nay then we shall haue newes enough; for he neuer comes into the Presence, but he brings a whole sacke full of [...]es: of newes I should say.

Duke.

Welcome Dametas: what officious fellow is that?

Dam.

A pure welwiller of your Maiesties, & a follower of mine.

Ʋiol.

O tis Manasses; and he could make Armes aswel as he mars Legges, he would grow in great request for Heraldrie: What's your newes?

Manas.

These Lacedemonians, Subiectes to your Maiestie, ha­uing a Messadge to deliuer to your Maiesties instruments of hea­ring, commonly eclipt, eares.

Ʋiol.

How? Hath any one heere, clipt eares?

Manas.

Sweete Femenine, clip off the taile of thy discourse with the Sissars of attention, as I say, these Lacedemonians haue chosen me their tongue.

Ʋiol.

Of a long tongue thou speakst verie little.

Mana.

That proues me no woman, for they speake ouer much.

Duk.

What greuances oppresse them? briefly speake.

Ami.

Marchandise (my Ledge) through the auarice of purcha­sing Officers, is rackt with such vnmercifull Impost, that the very name of Traffique growes odious euen to the professor.

Iulio.

Townes so opprest for want of wonted and naturall li­bertie, as that the natiue Inhabitants seeme Slaues, & the Forray­ners free Denizens.

Amin.

Offices so bought and sould, that before the purchaser can be sayd to be placed in his Office, he is againe by his couetous Patrone displac't.

Iulio.

Common Riots, Rapes, and wilfull Homicide in great mens followers, not onely, not punished, but in a manner counte­naunced and aplauded.

Amin.

Indeede since your Maiestie left the Land, the whole bodie of the Common-wealth runnes cleane against the byas of true and pristine gouernement.

Iulio.
[Page]

And your honorable Brother, like a Shipp toste vpon the violent billowes of this Insurrection, by vs intreates your Maie­sties Letters of speedy reformation, for feare the whole kingdome suffer ineuitable shipwracke.

Duk.

Which after short deliberation with our Counsell, your selfe shall returne. Dametas, rewarde their trauayles with 200. Crownes: in the meane time, let'em taste the best entertainment of our Court.

Proud Rebels, they shall see that a Dukes frowne,
Can at his pleasure, turne Rebellion downe:
See them rewar [...]ed.
A [...]i.

Manasses, see the fellowes entertaind; I must attende of the Duke.

Man.

Boy, see the fellowes entertaind? I must waite of my lord.

Boy.

Fellowes, be as merrie as you may, I must follow my M.

Ami.

So, heere's Peticioners attendance right; good words, and short commons: But tis not their entertainement wee come for. I made a simple shift to get entertainement into the Court,

Juli.

Well Cupid, pray for our liues, for and we were gone, I know not where thou wouldst haue two such statesmen againe.

Ami.

His Common-wealth could not stand without vs: and that his Mother knowes well enough: and he sends no better suc­cesse then we had at our hunting, hee looses a friend of mee.

Juli.

T'will not sinke in my thought yet, but that olde mustie slaue Dametas playde the slaue with vs.

Ami.

Would I could prooue it once: but since we are againe admitted our Realme, shall wee be idle? somewhat weele doe, though theyle giue vs but small thankes for our labour.

Iuli.

The Duke shall not say his Daughters are so ill beloued, but weele change a thrust or two with his intent for'em.

Ami.

T'would put the poore Wenches out of conceit with themselues, and there should not be some contending for'em.

Jui.

We are in the way to catch the old one, and then our ayme deceiues not.

Amin.
We are I faith: Inuention could not weaue,
A quainter webbe, Suspition to deceaue.
Exeunt.
Enter Lisander and Demetrius.
Demet.

Come, passe off this groueling imitation; a Louers [Page] thoughts must be ambitious, and like the Eagle, scorning the bace ayre where Kites and Crowes lie flagging: mount the cleare skie of Inuention, & ouerpeere al hindrances:

The Ladyes themselues are willing.
Lis.

Ready to imbark vpō the next tide of occasion whatsoeuer.

Demet.

Let me alone to worke it then. But heere comes my Boy.

Enter Page.
Boy.

T'were more for your credite Sir, and you could say your man: but men & warr were worne out of fashion both in a Sōmer.

Lisan.

I am of thy beliefe in that, Boy.

Boy.

Would my Lord were so to, Sir.

Dem.

Suppose I were Sir what then?

Boy.

I should (as many vpstartes haue done) prooue rich: for I beleeue you would make mee your heire.

Demet.

Is that part of your beliefe?

Boy.

A principall poynt Sir.

Dem.

Renounce it then, for I beleeue you'le neuer besaud by't.

Boy.

I am sure I cannot loose by't. I beleeue further, that many Knights, and some Ladyes, were neuer of Gods making.

Lisa.

Of whose then, wagge?

Boy.

Ile tell you: the Minters quoine Gold, Gold makes He­ralds, Heralds make Nnights, and Knights stampe Ladies.

Deme.

And what doe Ladies?

Boy.

They liue not idlie neither; they make some Knights, and marre manie Gentlemen.

Lisa.

Ladyes are good worke-women too, then?

Boy.

Farre better then anie Taylor: they'le make you an ende of a suite, especially a Court suite, when all the Taylors in a Coun­trey know not how to set a stitch in't.

Dem.

I am of the beliefe you are a Knaue, Sir.

Boy.

I had no sayth, should I say you were not.

Lisa.

Well, what, a Knaue?

Boy.

In a Knaues beliefe Sir.

Dem.

Because in yours?

Boy.

Do you say't, and Ile swere't, my Lord.

Dem.

No more Boy, I am wearie of your iestes.

Boy.

That coufirmes'em to be good Sir.

Dem.

Your reason for that, Sir?

Boy.
[Page]

Because trauellers and louers, are soone wearie of goodnes.

Dem.

Goodlie ones in deed: but leauing this high-way of cir­cumstaunce; I sent you for Manasses.

Boy.

The learned Scribe attendes you.

Enter Manasses.
Dem.

Will you fall off, Sir?

Boy.

Like an Apple at Michaelmas, without shaking.

Exit.
Lisa.

Welcome Manassas: I haue present imployment for thee, in which I must borrow

Man.

Pardon mee Madame, I learned of my Lord, to lende nothing without securitie and pawnes.

Lisa.

T'is not monie (Manasses) but counsell and furtherance that we desire.

Man.

Good counsell is worth good monie, Madame.

Lisa.

Thou shalt be well considered; there's twentie Crownes in earnest.

Man.

Nay Madame, this hand's like a fellow, it takes euerie thing in iest; if you be in earnest, let me feele it heere: So Ladie, now betwixt earnest and iest, if your Will be readie drawne, be­fore your friend deliuer'd as your deed, and put me in trust to ex­ecute it.

Lisa.

Tak't, in a word this honest Shepheard, and thy Lordes daughter Madame Mopsa, are man and wife.

Man.

Man, an woman perhaps; but not man and wife: for though most women haue a wil to be Ladies, like my Lords wife; yet euerie Ladie haue not witte to be a wife, as my Lordes Daughter. But what good can I doe in this?

Lisa.

O verie much: for though they be man and wife by oath and protestation, the chiefest ceremonie of all; namelie Mariadge, is yet vnperformed, and hearing that you haue tane orders.

Man.

That I haue: I haue tane order for the making away of a hundred Maidenheads in my time, and not so few: but I am in in the minde of you now, these two Beagles, Dorus and Mops [...], haue run themselues breathlesse in the chase of loue, you would ha me couple'm vp in the leases of Matrimonie.

Lisa.

You are in the right.

Manass.

And you in the wrong, Ile keepe your ieast, but in any case take backe againe your earnest: ile not purchase my Lords displeasure with your gold.

Lisan.
[Page]

Thy Lord shall neuer know't.

Man.

Oh sir! though my M. hath but bad eyes, he hath excee­ding long eares: and though a Forrayner may play with a Citi­zens wooden Dagger, I would not wish any to iest with a Cour­tiers steeld Sword; tis seldome drawne but it drawes blood.

Lis.

Tush man, be not so timerous, my credit shall countenance thee: bee not an Asse, make vse of thy time: thy Maisters ser­uice is no heritage; the world knowes he gettes vnder the Duke, thou art a foole, and thou wilt loose vnder him: there's a hundred Crownes for thee; tush man, thy betters will straine curtsey with aleagence for a bribe.

Mana.

Madam, could you to euery one of these Crownes giue me a Kingdome,

Lisan.

What then?

Man.

I should ha more ground then halfe the Kinges in Chri­stendom: here's my hand, Ile do't: my M. is my M. & I loue him; but my gold's my God, and I honor it: Ile do't; the time & place?

Lisa.

Soone in the euening at Adonis Chapell. Art resolute?

Ma.

As your Adamant: thinke you t'was feare made me keepe out? no t'was hope of these flattering sweete lipt drabs, I feare to marrie my Ladyes daughter? no nor to go to bed with her neither. Why, I haue counterfaited his hand & seale. He has been content with mee, to come nearer to him, at his entertainment of the last Embassadour, when he was heat with drinking of healthes. As I led him to his Chamber, I nimde his Chayne, and drew his Purse, and next morning perswaded him he lost it in the great Cham­ber at the Reuels. He puts mee in trust with his whole estate: he buyes Maners, I purchase Farmes: he buildes houses, I plucke downe Churches: he gets of the Duke, and I of the Commons: he beggers the Court, and I begger the whole Countrey.

Lis.

These are notable knauish courses. What breeding hast had?

Man.

Verie good breeding Sir: My great Graundfather was a Rat-catcher, my Grandsier a Hangman, my Father a Promooter, and my selfe an Informer.

Lisa.

Thou wert a Knaue by inheritaunce.

Man.

And by education too: but Bawdie Informations gro­wing stale, I gaue vp my cloake to a Broker, and crept into credite for a Gowne, and of Manasses a penurious Informer, I turned [Page] Coppie, & became Manasses, a most, precise, & illiterate expositor.

Demet.

Were you a Reader then?

Man.

And a Writer too Bullie; I set some of my Parishioners Wiues such Coppies, as their Husbands might cast their cappes at it, but could neuer come neare.

Lis.

But and you vsde such a high and eleuate stile, your audi­tories low and humble vnderstandings should neuer crall ouer't.

Man.

Tush I could fashion the bodie, of my discourse fit to the eare of my auditorre: for to cast Eloquence amongst a companie of Stinctards, is all one as if a man should scatter Pearle amongst the hoggish animals ecliped Swine: no I had paraphrasticall ad­monitions of all sortes; Some against couetous Landlordes, and that would I squirt awongst beggerlie Tennants: Some against Vsurers, and that would I throw in at Prison Grates amongst prodigall Banqeoutes: Some against the pride of the Court, and that honies the eare of the Citizen: Some against the fraude of the Citie, and that's Cake and Cheese to the Countrie: Some against Protestants, and that's plumpes the lasie Catholicke a­gainst Papist and Protestant, and that fattens the rancke witted Puritand, against Papist, Puritand, and Protestant; and that tickles the eare of the luxur ous Atheist.

Lisa.

Why you neuer light vpon anie Atheistes, doe you?

Man.

Oh verie manie.

Lisan.

In the Countrie perhaps, and the out-skirtes of the citie?

Man.

In the verie boosome of the Citie: and by your leaue, heere and there one in the Court too: But wee fi [...]t 'em all; for in deed wee wandering Lightes, haue (as other tradesmen haue) Commodities of all sortes, and prises.

Lis.

How doe they come by them?

Man.

As manie doe by Offices, steale into them ere the Duke be aware of 'em.

Lisa.

Some buy'em at Booke-sellers stalles; but the best they bespeake of Poets.

Lisa.

Mee thinkes Poets of all men, should not edifie, they are so enuious.

Man.

One to another, to no bodie else: a proud Poet is for all the world like a Puncke in request, couetous of manie Cliantes, when she hath more then she can handsomely play off: You [Page] shall haue some Poet (Apolloes Vicar, especially) write you a comi­call, Pastorall, Tragicall, Musicall historie in prose, will make the auditors eyes runne a water like so many waterspouts: I had one of them my selfe, and your eares be in case, Ile giue you a taste on't; his argument was fet out of the Poem called, The lost sheepe: and thus it is.

Lis.

Pre'thee be briefe?

Man.

Nay peace, and it were in place where you might wake, the best men in the parish, for commonlie they sleepe the begin­ning, because they loue not deuision: but to the lost Sheepe. Beloud, you must imagine this Sheepe was a Sheepe, a lost Sheepe; a Sheepe out a the way: but my deare flocke and louing Sheepe, whom like a carefull Shepheard, I haue gathered together with the whistle or pipe, as it were of mine eloquence, into this sold of peacefull Communitie; Doe not you stray doe not you flie out, doe not you wander, doe not you loose your selues; but like kinde Sheepe, and valiant Rams: I speake to you the better part and head of my flocke. As I say, you shall see the valiant Rammes turne all their hornes together, and appose themselues against the Woolfe, the hungrie Woolfe, the gredie Woolfe, the Lams-de­uowring Woolfe, the Woolfe of all Woolfes, to defende their Eawes and young ones. Durst you say all your heades together, and with the hornes of your Manhood defende your families, your owne wiues, and your neighbours children: Was not this stinging geere?

Lis.

A good Sheepish admonition.

Man.

The fitter for my Audience: while you liue, haue a eare to fitte your Audience.

Lis.

Thou speak'st like a Christian: prethee what Religion art of?

Man.

How manie souer I make vse of, Ile answere with Piauano Orllotto the Italian: I professe the Dukes onely.

Demet.

What's his reason for that?

Man.

A very sound reason: for sayes hee, I came Raw into the world, and I would not willinglie go rosted out, so close vp the stomacke of your Discourse with that dry answere, and euey man about his businesse.

Lis.

You'le be mindfull of to morrow-night.

Man
[Page]

As your Lawyer of the Tearme, or your Landlord of the Quarter day.

Dem.

Why so: the mettle I must forge my plot on, lies a war­ming in the furnace of my braine; and I must fashion it Instantly, for feare it burst the heat. Giue my conceit way, for heere comes one must helpe to proportion it.

Exit Lisan.
Enter Dametas.
Damet.

How now Demetrius, what winde hath blowne vp this storme of melancholie, thy countenaunce was not wont to be thus cloudie? Whence proceedes this sodaine alteration?

Dem.

From mine owne hard fortune my Lord, that my ill-stard natiuitie should continue thus opposite.

Dam.

Art crost in a sute at Court? or what's the matter? speake.

Dem.

Ile acquaint your Honor: I hope no other eare ouer­heares vs, Vnder Dianaes Oke I founde an inscription vpon a stone, which told me, that wealth Aristomeres sometimes brought into Archa lea, had there vnder hid a massie summe of treasure.

Dam.

Vnder Dianaes Oke? Dorus shall haue my daughter Mopsa: no more words on't, and thou louest me Dorus: smother thy golden hops a day or two; thou shalt haue Mopsa, but Ile haue all the Gold, then marie my daughter to some great man, though he be poore, tis the fashion: Ile be Noblie allied what ere it cost me: shalt be my Sonne in law Dorus: haue an eye to the Prin­cesse, fall close to my daughter Mopsa,

Court her and spare not: now begins the sport,
Kisse her, doe kisse her; thou shalt pay sweetly fort:
I can gull you, know what faire words can doe,
I'me an old Knaue, and a young Courtier too.
Exit.
Dem.

So, so; how violently he deuowers his bane, and steales himselfe into the order of Gullerie: mee thinkes I see how be­twixt hope and feare he sweates in his practise, and like a foolish dreamer, castes how to lay out his wealth before it comes in. So much for him: Now to my Ladie Beautie his wife; and as the Diuell would ha're, heere she comes.

Enter Miso.
Miso.

Dorus, how now Dorus' What time a day is't with you?

Dor.

What time a day so'ert be with mee, tis sleeping time with my Lord, I'am sure of that.

Mis.

Sleeping time Dorus, what dost thou meane by that?

Dor.

Nay nothing: he is troubld with a kind of maladie cald Iusurectio carnis.

Miso.

How, a dish of Creuices? nay and that be the worst, good enough: I am glad a falles to Fish, for he was giuen to Flesh a late too too bad.

Dor.

Masse I thought as much, for I saw him go a angling.

Miso.

I hold my Ladiship to some strumpet.

Dor.

Life, a ielosie; I thinke you are a Witch, t'was so indeed.

Miso.

Nay I thought as much: he was wont to kisse mee, and doe all kindnes a man could doe, till he came to the Court; and nowe hee will not lie with mee forsooth: and why? tis the Court fashion. He will not loue mee, and why? tis the Court fa­shion. I must not come neere him at his downe lying, nor his vprising, ctc. And this be the Court fashion, would I were an ho­nest woman of the Countrie againe, be Courtiers who list. I, I, Dorus, I tell thee in teares, hee hath not done by mee, as a Hus­band should doe.

Dor.

Tis nothing to mee, I cannot do withall Madam, would I could.

Mis.

Yes marie mayst thou Dorus; thou mayst, and shalt doe withal too and thou wilt: but as thou lookest to enioy my daugh­ter Mopsa, acquaint mee with the olde Foxes starting hole.

Dor.

That's past my cunning: the olde Foxe has more holes then one, to hide's head in: But not to goe long about the bush with you.

Mis.

No good Dorus, I do not loue a man should go long about my bush: What is she for a woman?

Dor.

I know not what shee is for a woman; marie I feare she's litle better then a Whore for your Husband: harke in your eare; shee's Manasses wife.

Miso.

Manasses wife? marie fire Maister gunner; a Putitane turnd Puncke: Gods my precious. Ile slit her nose, as I am a Ladie will I: is shee the partie you wot on?

Dor.
[Page]

Yes fayth Madam, shee is the Mare the man rid on.

Mis.

Ile spoile their sport, sadle my Mule there, haue an eie to the princesse: shalt ha my daughter and be but to spite him withal, faith Fox ile ha you out of your hole, or ile fire you out.

Dor.

Nay that will doe no good, but for your owne good Ma­dam, take heed you doe not scold.

Mise.

Why may not a Lady scold Dorus?

Dor.

Scold, O in no case, twill marre a Ladies beautie cleane, and make her looke as hard fauoured at any ordinarie woman.

Mis.

Godamercie for that Dorus, Ile not loose my beautie for twentie on'em: saddle my Mule, bring me my chopping knife, Ile gold the lecherous Goat, and mince his Trull, as small as herbs to the pot. This is not scolding Dorus, is't?

Dor.

No this is tollerable.

Mis.

Nay then I care not, saddle my Mule I say, let her pray God her feeling be good, for as I am a Ladie, Ile not leaue her an ele to see withall, and yet I will not scold neither.

Exit.
Dor.

Oh take heed of that at any hand, So, so, so: now it be­gins to quicken me thinkes, I see alreadie how she runs atilt at the Wenches eies: cals the maid Baud, the woman Whore, and her husband Lecher: and when all comes to all, like an Irish Wolfe, she barkes at her owne shadow; but committing her and her Asse to their wildgoose chase: now to my sweet hart Mopsa, for she's all the blockes last in my eie to slumble on: and God blesse my wits, for the foole haunts me.

Enter Mopsa.
Mops.

Dorus, where's my Father Dorus?

Dor.

Your Father, Oh my deare Mopsa?

Mop.

Nay now you flout me?

Dor.

Flout you? oh the faire heauens, but this ti's for a man to cast away himselfe in violence of passion and extremitie of sighs on a piece of beautie, that cares not for him, but it is the tricks on you all.

Mop.

Trickes, no as god mend me, and I should not haue a hus­band till I got him with tricks, I should lead apes in hell: but faith tell me, dost thou loue me Dorus?

Dor.

Doe I loue you quoth ye, It cuts my very heart strings, doe I loue you? why tis the onely marke my Inqeuors she or at.

Mop.
[Page]

If thou dost not hit the marke, then thou'rt a very bung­ler: but where is my Father?

Dor.

Why I haue sent him and your mother out of the way of purpose, and appointed Manasses to meet vs this euening at Ado­nis Chappell in the Amasons apparell, to marrie vs: I thinke this are signes I loue you.

Mop.

I but you ieast, I doubt you will not marrie me.

Dor.

Will you meere me there?

Mop.

As I am a Virgin I will.

Dor,

And come with an intent to marrie me?

Mop.

As I hope to be a wife I will.

Dor.

You must take heed you keepe our purpose close,

Mop.

As I did the losse of my Maydenhead.

Dor.

Why haue you lost it then?

Mop.

Many a deere day agoe, yet I told Nobody on't but my Mother and our Horsekeeper, and they say I am nere the worse mayd for that, and I can keepe my owne counsell, as I hope I shal; but will you meet me soone?

Dor.

Iust in the mid-way, as Tilters doe.

Mop.

Ile goe afore and stay, but doe not deceiue me, and you doe, Ile shew my Fathers Horsekeeper all as God mend me.

Dor.
So tria sequntur tria, now am I rid of a triumuirie of fooles,
and by there absence haue won a free accesle to an escape.
If my Lisanders hope proue like to this,
This night shall Crowne vs Monarchers of our bl [...]e.
Exit.
Enter Duke and Lisander.
Duke.

No more of these delayes sweet Madam, your loue hath broken day oft with my expectance, I dare giue it trust no longer.

Lisa.

I confesse it my Liege, and like a spent Deare, not able to maintaine longer flight, I cast my selfe downe breathlesse at your loues mercie: yet I beseech your Maiestie, let not your eager de­sires, practise any present violence vpon my yeelding chastitie: twas onely possession of my loue you had in chace, which with conuenent time & place purchased, I put your grace in full pos­session of.

Duk.

Although thy Breath be neuer but Musicall, yet it neuer taught the string of true happines till now: and to approue thy [Page] heart sets hand to thy word, appoint the time.

Lisa.

Then this present euening (and yet my Virgin blood, and ashamd to consent to the betraying of my modestie) meete me at Adonis bower, where ile make tender of subdued chastetie to your high Maiestie, as my first & most victoriuos conquerour.

Duke.

By my Imperiall Globe, and hope of those Ioyes, thy presence shall bring to inrich me with, ile meete thee, and make thee Queene ouer the most submisse Captiue that euer loue tooke prisoner.

Lisa.

If you deceiue me.

Duke.
Not except warme life,
Deceiue my voice of their innatiue heate.
Then hast slow time, exchange thy leaden sleete,
For Hormes wings till I my faire hopes meete.
But lockt once in the armes of my delight,
Cloth all the world in an eternall night.
And steed of morning when the Sunne should rise,
They shall see two in my Zelmanes eies.
Exit.
Lisa.
So farewell thought I, I haue prepar'd you a Zelmanes answerable to your expectation.
Then triumph in thy will, and let thy thoughts
Proclaime a lubilee: my teeming hope:
Are now deliuered of a gratious birth,
Which I haue Christened, opportunitie.
Vnto whose shrine in honour of this day,
My thoughts shall hold a monthly sacrifice,
Loue graunt Demetrius, meete the like successe,
Our paines are crownd with double happinesse.
Enter Julio and Aminter
Iulio.

Onely our disguises hold firme, but all other attempts meete vntimely deathes, euen in their cradles.

Amin.

What and wee should acquaint the Ladies with our intents.

Julio.

Twould argue a kind of cowardise in out wits, that ha such suspectles admittance to there presence, as this disguise hath purchased vs, we should not haue that abilitie of inuenture to en­tangle'em [Page] in their owne securitie.

Amint.

Well howsoeuer, we must not dwell long determi­ning for the libertie of stay with Dametas, who out of his couetous disposition in detaining our reward, allowed vs the eldest day of our licent abode at Court, is run out.

Juli.

Tis very true, and for my part, Ile rather go home with a priuate repulse, then managing any vnlikely attempt, become sufferer vnder a publike disgrace.

Ami

Thats my very thought, yet that our second ariuall bee not altogether empty of imploiment, lets practise something vpon Dametas, and acquaint the world with his coward basenes; in which, he not only detracts from his masters bountie, but looke how as Conduit head or master-spring that is poisoned, doth his best, to enfect the whole bodie of the court, with the leprosie of his couetousnesse.

Juli.

Theres no action of his begetting can be said to be truely honourable.

Ami.

How can they when there Father's a mungrell, the Duke out of his honourable bountie commaunded him to reward our trauailes with 200. Crownes: and now after two moneths atten­dance, and enforst delayes: In which time an ordenarie petitioner might haue spent the vasew of the reward, he packes vs off with 50. Crownes, his excuse being that his master hath forgot vs, and what he doth, is of his owne bountie, as if the Moone should brag she gaue the world light, when al the luster she hath, comes from the heat of the Sunne.

Juli.

Should his villanies be suffered to prosper, they would grow to such height, as the Dukes authoritie should ha much trouble to prune them.

Ami.

To preuent which, his maiestie shall haue priuate note of it, knew we in whose trust to conduct it.

Iuli.

Tis an Office verie few dare vndertake, he is so riueted to the Dukes good opinion.

Amt.

Lyes there no iarre twixt none of the Nobilitie and him, what say you Zelmanes?

Juli.

The gallant, Amason: you could not ha cast your choyce fitter, for her honorable minde maintaines deadly feud against his bace proceedinges: and heere she comes, attended by Dametas seruant, lets waite on oportunitie.

Enter Lisander and Demetrius.
De.

Lisander.

Lis.

Demetrius.

Iulo.

Lisander and Demetrius, stand close, of my life we are come to the birth of some notable knauery.

Amt.

How blowes the winds of our hopes?

Lisand.

Fayr to the point of our expectlicion, I haue made away the Duke and the Dutch.

Dem.

How made away them? poysond them.

Lis.

with a confection of loue, which I haue so tempred with fair promices, as theyr minds are in loues heauen already: Ʋidelicet in Adonis bower, wher this euening I haue giuen em my word to meet em; but I haue so cast it, that Manasses shall meete em in my steede.

Dem.

Twil be a rare scean of myrth, to hear what costly discours the ile bestow vpon the foole in thy outside.

Iulio.

Do you heare that.

Ilipo.

yes, thanke loue and my eares, but list the conclusion.

Lisa.

I haue cleard the way to Violetta, but what order hast thou tane, with thy burbolts: Dameta, Myso, and amorous Mopso.

Damet.

shot em away, at three seuerall markes, yet so conueyd it that in the end they shall all meet at Adonis chappell.

Lisan.

This proiect cannot but bring forth some notable deceipt.

Iulio.

My hopes should want of thyer will, and it do not.

Lisand.

Now we haue made a smooth passage to our escape, how shall conuey our louer out of the Iland.

Dem.

I haue determined of that sir, and better to effect, my boy this time hast cast such a bait of knauery to the two Captaines, Kala­der and Philinax, as we may passe without suspition.

Lisan.

But how for transportation.

De.

I am furnisht of that to, you remember the two Lacedemou intelligencers

Ilip.

Now what of vs.

Iulio.

Hold my life, we shall be put in this scean of gullery.

Lisan.

Oh in any case.

Dem.

For the loue of Cupid do, iniquiris past, lets take our en­trance, and passe ouer the stage like mu [...]es, to furnish out a showe.

Lisan.

And see occasion like a kind wench presents em in the ve­ry instant my honest friends welcome, haue you not your dispatch [Page] with a letter to Lacedemon.

Amt.

Madam we haue, and stay onely to take our leaues of your Ladiship, and know what seruice your honor will command.

Lisan.

you haue my thankes, for the truth is, I must commit bu­sinesse of much import vnto your trust, and to preuent much cir­cumstances take my word, you are not ignorant of the Kings gene­rall challenge.

Iulio.

About his daughters.

Lis.

you vnderstand me, with these few crowns receiue my mind which is to conuey the 2, ladies whome we in these disguises haue woon to Lacedemon,

Amt.

were we but confirmd of your of estates.

Lis.

wele giue your sufficient assurance of that and the princesses themselues shall confirme it.

Iulio,

we craue no better madam, but shall we not ha yours ho­nors company.

Lisa.

No: hauing brought them abord, weele make returne to the Duke, to let him vnderstand we stole not our prizes but woon them manfully at the point of wit.

Amt.

A noble resolution.

Iulio.

His foile wil appeare the more palpable, and your conquest the more applausable, where shall we receiue the Ladies.

Dem.

Be that our care, but on your liues be heedful of your safe ties.

Amt,

More then of our own my lord,

Dem.

Inough whilst you attend weele to the Duke, and play all guls or none.

Iulio.
All Guls indeed since you had follies whip,
No guls, to all guls, fooles loue fellowship.
Exeunt.
Enter miso and Mop.
miso.

Looke well to mine Asse ther, lord how I sweat with anger; this sames the house sure, and now like a wise Lady let me count my hurts, and see how I shal be reuengd: it shalbe so, ile haue em both carted, and manasses shal go afore like a whifler and make way with his horns, where be these whores: open the dore, wher be these pan ders: O that I were not a lady: I could scold like a butter-whore,

Ent,
wife.

whose there a gods name, lord for his mercy is the woman mad.

miso:

yes I thanke ye fort: horn mad, wheres your companion whetes the old leacherous goat my husband, open the doore I say.

wife.

Iesus for thy mercie sake madam, what do I want.

Miso.
[Page]

what do I want, the chiefe implement a woman shold haue I want that as a woman cannot be without, I mean my husband, I want.

wife,

your husband, I sawe him not as I am an honest woman.

mi.

not as you are an honest, so I think, but as you are an arrant whore you did, you must haue your Creuishes with a pox cannot Citty Maunchet and fresh cod-serue your turne, but you must haue Court cake-bread and Creuishes with a vengeance, but come giue me my husband, or ile haue him out of the flesh on thee, and yet I will not scold neither.

wife

Pray Madam ha patience: what should your husband do here

mis.

That which he should do at home with his wife, and he were worth his eares.

wife,

Lady I protest I do not know him,

miso.

Not know him thou liest in euery vaine ith hart thou lyest, thou knowest him, and as Adam knew Eue thou knowest him, hee hath bene as inward with thee, as euer he was with me, he hath by his own confession he hath, & thou deniest it, thou liest in thy throat like a Puritanicall whore as thou art, O that I were a butter-whore for an houre I might scold alittle.

wife

Madam they are no honest men that bring these tales to you

mis.

Men bring tales to me, I defie thee in thy guts, I defie thee, men bring tales to me, thou takest me to be one of thine own church dost: they are no honest men that bring tales to thee and ha wiues of their own, and my husbands one of them, go thy waies now.

wife.

I beseech you madam do but heare me.

mis,

Hear thee, I haue heard too much of thee, too too much too much, wheres my husband, bring forth my husband, ile teach him to put a difference betwixt Ioan and my ladie I hold him ten pound ont, and yet I wil not scold neither, and I had bin an old hag past tea ming as his whore is a puritan, it had bid somwhat, but being a woman of Gods making, and a ladie of his own, and wearing mine own haire which is much in a ladie of my standing I can tel you, to vse me thus, flesh and blood canot induer [...], let me come in, open the dore let me come in, O that I were anie vile thing in the world but a la­die that I might scold a little.

Exeunt
Enter Kalander and philanax Demet, boy.
Boy.

So so, so, take your places, for the same bald pated oke is the stage, where ye shall see the part of a doting foole performd by an old man and a young wench,

[Page] Do worshipfull Dametas,
The same man,
Hath he no fellow acters in his most lamentable, commical, histori­call, tragicall, musicall, pastoriall.
Boy

None that require any mouthing but his Asse and himselfe, marry then he has Signer Mattocke, a very sharpe sastyricall humo­tist, and Mounser le spade, but he goes somewhat more bluntly to his businesse, yet heele serue for mutes, and as good as the best to furnish out the stage.

Kal,

But dares Dorus being but Dametus seruant so abuse his mad maister thus grosely.

Boy

O Lord Sir, their ha ben seruing men haue done their Mai­sters farre greater abuse, yet had their wiues conceald it, their eares should neuer haue bin acquainted with it.

Phi.

Is that a fashion in request.

Boy

Altogither Ile assure you, but obedience Gentleman the sean beginnes.

Enter Damet as with mattocke and spade
kal.
Pray God it be good he staies so long,
Ridiculous enough, and good enough.
Dame.

So, stand Asse, stand gentle Asse.

Ka.

What countreimen is his Asse he speakes so familiarly to him.

Boy

Ath Citty breede, marrie he picks vp his lyuing ath burs and nettles that grow about the Court gate.

Dam.

be in readines good mattocke, play thy part sweet spade, let me see Dianaes oke? I held Dianaes oke deuine, true pure gold honest, Dorus, fortunate Dametas.

Ka.

An excellent come dyan, what life he puts into his part.

Da.

So, by thy leaue stone, by thy patience honest stone, the very grauell sauours of treasure, this sames the bed chamber of my Lady Pecunia, and see, see some of her golden haires, more, more, more yet diuine tree, pure gold, honest Dorus, fortunate Demetrius, softly, softly, not to fast, let me not deuoure my content too greedily least like a cormorant I take a surfet ont.

Phil.

Oh take heed of that maister in anie case.

da.

Pure mettle, excellent gold: but let me see nowe, I shall by computation haue some three millions of them, I some three or foure millions, how shall I imploy em to make the most profit of [Page] em.

da.

That would be knowne indeed.

da.

Ile put out one million to vse, after the rate af seuen score to the hundreth: and yet I wnot, no fie, for then you wil ha my humor brought ath stage for a vserer; to preuent with scandalous report, ile put it into my Scribe-maiors hand, and he shall deale for mee.

Kal:

Theres is a simple cloake to couer his villany.

Phil:

Tis a very short one,: and passing slite to hide his knauerie.

boy.

it cannot chose but be seene through,

dam:

An other Milion ile lay to bestow in Offices. I wil haue welth or ile rake it out ath kennels else, chimnies ha smoakt for alreadye, and now ile deale vpon sea-cole and salt, now, now, now, it comes, sweet gold, honest Dorus, fortunate Demetrius, deuine gold, how, how, shal I adore thee, O let me do the homage of my knees: now nowe, for the tongue of a Poet, tho I hate poetrie worse then any of the seauen deadly sinnes, I could wish my selfe a Poet for some houre, to write a Poem in the praise of my diuine mistres; and see the verie bed wherein her diuinitie is lodged: happy, happy, thrice

boy.

happie Dametas, now like an oreioid louer, let mee open the sheets of my heauenlie mistris, with reuerence, so with humble re­uerence, and like a blushing louer that puts out the light ere he pre­sumes to touch the bed of his loue so let me darken the candles of my bodie, mine eies, and first blesse my hands with touching, next inrich mine ears with hearing, and lastlie make happie my eies with with seeing, and let them convey the ioy downinto the bosome of my thoughts, by degrees, softly by degrees.

Phi:

Did you euer see Asse make such a ceremonious preparation

dam:

be not offended sweet mistris that I presume to touch.

phil:

a fooles head of your owne,

Kal:

Has a bin at any cost of al this inuocate for a coxcomb and a bel.

phil:

beshrow my iudgement but he desetues it,

boy:

And his desert were neere so much, he could but beare away the bel, and so you saie he doth:

da:

A coxcombe and a bel, oh indignity: damnable ok [...], vile and euil accuest Dorus, vnfortunate Dametas, Diana I tel thee thou art no honest goddes to vse a Gentleman thus. What here a writing, your helpe good spectacles, lend me your helpe good spectacles, some comfortable newes good spectacles:

[Page] Who hath his hire hath well his labours plast,
Earth thou didst seeke, and store of earth thou hast.
He that vaine hopes pursues for loue of pelfe,
Shall loose his wits and likely finde himselfe,
Then thinke thy paines rewarded well,
Thou broughst the foole, beare backe the bell:
Of other matters what ensues
Adonis bower shall tell the newes,
Villanous poetry, I am made a flat foole by poetry,
But though I can do em no futther disgrace, my fatall curse,
a Wronged gentlemans fatall curse dwell euer vpon them, Diana
Heere me, and let my words finde gratious acceptance.
Kal.

Hide your heads, the terrible curse comes like a ston vpon you

Da.
Rancor, spite, mallice, hate, and all disasters,
Strengthen my faith against all portastors.
May their intents tho pure as christall glasses,
Be counted falts and capitall trespasses,
O may their liues and labourd industrie,
Though worthy of Apolloes plaud it be
The cleerest thought in loyalty excelling
Be by some Dor presented for libelling,
when they haue writ a seeine in which their braines,
Haue dropt there deerest sweets, and their swoln vaines,
Emptied their Cundits of their purest spirit,
As they stand gaping to receiue their merrit,
In sted of plaudities their chiefest blisses
Let their desarts be crownd with mewes and hisses:
Behinde each post and at the gallery corners,
Sit empty guls, slight fooles and false informers,
Let some slye Foxe out of discreations embers,
Terme them the lands vnnecessary members,
And like the deere when they haue spent their breath,
to make kings sport let them betorne to death,
Euen by their friends, twold set my thoughts a twanging
Might I but see one of them go to hanging.
1 Capt.

A passing strange curse and no question he has traueld far for some of the rimes,

2 Cap.

He must trauaile further that finds any rea­son int,

1 Cap.

No matter for reason theirs rime enough and that be good.

2 Cap.

Som: of it is no better then it should be, or my iudge­ment deceiues me.

1 Cap.

Sure he had some reason to make this rime, [Page] and a man could pick it out,

2 Cap,

rather then ile be counted inqui­sitiue, mine eares shal content themselues with the rimes onely, and leaue the reason to the scanning of poets whom it more neerly con­cerns.

1 Cap,

But wheres the wag that inuited vs to this banquet of mirth shrunke in the wetting?

2 cap:

tware a rare iest now if whilst the boy kept vs heere in expectation of Dametas gullery his M: had made an escape with the duks daughters,

1 cap:

that or some knauery else vpon my life, I had the boy in shrowd suspision at the first.

2 cap.

And this his suddaine and stolne departure, confirmes it cur­rant

2 cap:

then we are sped, for in suspisions face,

I see some suttle stratagem in chase.
Enter miso and Maenasses wife?
Wife:

Will your lordship beleeue me now: nay and I sait your wor­ship may swert, tho I haue but a (poore as to say) hole of mine own I hope the spirits haue more denomination ouer me, then to make it a common slaughter house of carnallity where euery iacke may command flesh for his mony,

miso:

No more words sweet woman I confesse I was in the wronge, there is not the hole the Foxe hides his head in: and therefore for the loue of womanhood conceale mine errors, for howsoeuer I complaind tis thy forhed aks, thy temples ha the terrible blow as the say, thy husband is a bad man.

wife,

my hus­band:

miso:

I, I, good woman thy husband: he is as I say a fleshly member and I fear he hath ouercome the foolish thing my daugh­ter.

Wife

your daughter ile slit her nose by this light and she wer ten ladies, twas not for nothing my husband said he should meete her this enening at Adonis chappel, but and I come to the godspeed ont, ile tel em ont soundly?

miso:

I do good woman tel em ont, & spare not but in any case do not scold.

Wife:

Why may not a gentlewoman scold in a good case:

miso:

I know not what a gentlewoman do in a good case, but a lady must not in any case:

Wife:

tho I may not scold I may tel em roundly ont I hope,

miso:

that may you do lawe,

Wife:

and ile not be mealely mouthd I warrant em, wil you beare me company to the chappell maddam?

miso.

withall my hart mistris, what Dorus hath giuen me, ile giue my friend, no foole to company.

Exeunt.

Actus quinti, scena prima.

Enter the duke at adonis bouer
Farewell bright sunne thou lightner of all eies
thou falst to giue a brighter beame to rise.
Each tree and shrub were tramels of thy haire,
But these are wier, for none but kings to weare,
And my rude tonge striuing to blaze her forth,
Like a bad art seman doth disgrace her worth,
but heeres the place, vpon this christall streame:
Where Citherea did vnyoake her teame
Of siluer doues, to interchange a kisse
With young Adones shall I meete my blisse:
The gentle minits crownd with christall flowers,
Loosing there youthes, are growne vp perfect howers,
To hasten my delight, the bashfull moone
that since her dalliance with Endimior,
Durst neuer walke by day is vnder saile,
In steede of sheetes has spred her siluer vaile,
Each gliding brooke and euery bushy tree
Being tipt with siluer were her liuery,
And the dim night to grace our amorous wars,
Hath stuck nine spheares full of immortall stars,
Insted of pearles the way on which she treads
Is strawd with Christall deu and siluer beades.
Enter Dutches.
She comes, her feete makes musicke with the ground,
And the chast ayre is rauisht with the sound,
My soule flyes forth to meete her: hell my wife,
Her presence like a murtherer driues the life
Out of my pleasure breast, her ielous cie
Enuyes the heauen of my felicity.
Dut.

Zelmane, or my husband life or hate.

K.
What makes old Autum out a bed so late,
that snow should goe a woeing to the sunne
When one [...]arme kisse works her confusion.
Dut.
I haue the iest, suspition that keepes
Court in my husbands thoughts, seeing my loue,
Elect this walke, hath brought him after him.
K.

She dogs her fure, and she to shake her off Hath taine some other walke Ile place mine eare in distance of her will.

Dut.
[Page]

Could I but heare the innocent deliuery of his breath, twold be a second iubile of mirth.

Da.

Heere comes my loue.

Enter Manasses like Lisander.
Dut.
your loue? Alasse poore Duke,
Your forward hopes will meete a barren spring,
My sunne appears.
Da.
Fie your loue speakes to loude,
Your sunnes eclipst, your date vpon a cloude.
Dut.
See how his armes like precious phenix wings,
Spred to imbrace me.
Da.
Now the Cucko sings,
Those amorous armes do make a golden space
To hug a Duke.
Dut.

But ile fill vp the place.

Da.
Those fingers tipt with curious porphery,
Staining Pigmalions matchlesse imagery,
Like amorous twins all of one mother nurst,
Contend in curtesie who should touch me first.
Dut.
should touch me first: their strife is vndertook,
To twine a young bay not a farre stooping oake.
Da.
Young bay, stale lest, that a dry saplesse rinde
should hold young thoughts, and a licentious minde,
Were he but gone now.
Dut:
Were the Duke away,
My hope, had got the better of the day.
Man:

This is Adonis chappell, I wonder they come not, tho I beare a little learning about me, and a few good clothes, I wold not wisham to make Balams asse a me: for though many fooles take no felicity but in wearing good clothes (tho they be none of their own) I haue a further reach in me.

Da:

I could ban my stars.

Dut:

I curse my fate.

Da:

That crosse me thus.

Dut:

Make me vnfortunate.

Da:

Alas good lady, how her prety feet labour to finde me.

dut:

that my hopes should meete such blacke euents.

da:

O would the trindly night darken her selfe.

Dut.
[Page]
Would the Moone lose her light,
That in the bosome of some foggy cloud
I might embrace my loue.
Duke
But night is purblind
To make a Duke a slaue.
Dut.
To make a Dutches
wrastle with amorous passions.
Duk,
life a spleene
Could my rough breath like a tempestious wind,
Blow out heauens candles, leaue the world starke blind,
That it might either haue no eies to see:
Or vse those eies it hath to pleasure me.
Dut.

Or vse those eies it hath to plesure me.

man.

Who woulde ha thought the cold had bene so good a musition: howe it plaies vpon my chappes, and maketh my teeth skippe vp and downe my mouth like a company of virginall Iackes, but I find small musicke in it, and Mopsa should come now I could doe her little good, yet and she were here, she and I would haue about at cob-nut or at che­ri-pit or somewhat to keep our selues from idlenes, tho she be but a foole, the bables good enough to make sport with all in the darke and that very word hath started her.

Enter Mop.
Mop,

whose there Manasses.

man,

yes Mopsa.

mop.

plain

Mop.

I might be madam Mopsa in your mouth, good­man &c. whers Dorus.

man,

why because he wil not be saide to make too much hast to a bad bargaine, he is not come yet,

mop,

not come, a pescod on him, but als one I thought at first he would make but a foole on me.

man,

would you haue him mend Gods wormanship?

mop,

But chose him, since he hath buld me with an vrchin, ile goe fetch Raph our horskeeper, let him that got the calfe keep the cow in a knaues name and he wil, ha you your booke heere.

man,

no matter wench, I can dote wel inough without booke,

mop.

Nay and ye can dote wel inough your selfe, I care for neither of them both, but indeed I loue to haue a thing wel done, for saies my mother, a thinge once wel done, is twice done, and I am in her mind for that vp and downe,

Dut,
[Page]
Whose with my Lord the Duke, it cannot be,
Mine eie would not conceale such trechery.
Dut,
Tis not the Dutches sure, no it is amarous Ioue,
that seeing Zelmane passionate for loue,
Descends to comfort her, Ioue if there be
A powerful Phebus God of poetry,
In deare remembrance of faire Daphnes rape,
to win my loue, lend me some stranger shape,
Such as your selues haue worne, that when your fame
is sung by poets, they maie cote my name,
Dut,

Sure tis my daughter,

Duk,
Daughter: how her eie
Cuts out new formes, new shapes of iealousie:
Dut.
As sure as death tis she, for see they stand
like amarous twins, intwisted hand in hand,
Breast against breast, and that no ioy be missing,
To heare discourse, their lips keepe time with kissing,
Ile not indurst impatience grow strong,
And tho a prince, tel him he doth thee wrong.
duk
Do preethe do, this sweetens al the rest,
But here would be the elixar of the iest,
if whilst we kept each other at a baie,
A third should come, and beare the hare away.
Enter dametas.
dam.

villanous poetrie, vnchristian like poetry, I am cozend of my golde by poetrie, robd of my charge by poetrie, made an apparent foole by poetrie vilanous Oke, accurst Dorus, vnfortunat Dametas: whose there my daughter and with Zelmane? a wel-willer to Dorus, a fa­uorite to poetrie, and therfore enemie to Dametas, come hither mop so, a thy fathers blessing come not neare her: what Mopsa.

mop.

yes, whose there? Dorus.

dam.

Confusion a Dorus, I am thy miserable father, didst not see Hippolita,

mop.

no by my troth not I? Did ye not see Dorus.

dam.

Poxe of dorus I am vndone madam and thou telst mee not of Hipolita,

mo,

Pox a Hippolita, I am a dumbe woman and you can tel me newes of Dorus

da,

I had rather see ten doruses hangd then lose Hippolita,

mo,

I had rather see ten fathers damd then lose my sweet dorus,

da,

I shal run mad and I find not Hippolita.

Mop:
[Page]

I shall run franticke and I find not Dorus.

Dut:

Whats heere, I shall run mad for Hipolita.

duke:

And I shall run franticke and I find not Dorus, I hold my life we haue some comedy in hand, we shall haue a full sceane, for here comes more actors.

Enter Mopso and Manasses wife.
Wife

Assures I am a sinner to God madam, that sames he.

muso

What with a brace of wenches, I faith olde brocke, haue I tane you in the maner, is this the fruits of your lying alone? is this your court custome with a wanion, lend mee thy knife, tho I had neither house, nor land to giue em, ile bestow a whores make be­twixt you and yet I will not scold neither.

mep:

What a gudyere aile you mother, are you frampall, know you not your owne daughter.

miso.

Mopsa, O insufferable wrong, make thine own natural child thy bawd,

duke

Heeres an excellent patterne for wiues to learne to scold by

miso.

What mistres Amason, ha you such a cocking spirit, honest Women cannot keepe their husbands at home for you: tis not for nothing now I see, that the Dutches lookes yellow on you, but ile teare that painted whores face of yours (by this light) and yet I wil not scold neither.

man

Madam,

miso:

ile mad you with a vengeance.

The duke and dutches step both forth and restraine her.
dut,

Touch not the prince.

duke

On your alleagance forbeare, what means this outrage, can­not our private walks be priviledged from your wilde contentious.

dut:

how fares the prince.

duk:

How cheares my good Zelmane?

man:

Zelmane, no Gods my iudge my liege, I am Manasses, mi­serable Manasses, your husbands scribe-ma [...]or madam.

dut:

Manasses.

duk:

A foole.

mis.

My man.

wife

And my deere head, alas sweet loue, what makest thou heer.

m,

Mary worke for the hangman, and the Duke be not the more mercifull.

duke
[Page]

Theres some deceit in this, Dametas, wheres Hippolita?

dam:

I, I, theres som knauery in this: Mopso wheres Hippolita?

mis:

doubtles theres some villany in this, Mepso whers Hipolita?

mep:

Thers no plaine dealing in this, Manasses wheres Dorus?

Gry:

Answere directly, wheres Hippolita?

dam:

Alas madam I knowe not, whilst I almost melted my selfe with digging of gold in Dianaes oke, I left her in my wiues charge

wife

And whilst I ran to Manasses, thinking to take my husband & his wife in the manner, I left Hipolita in my daughters chamber

man:

and whilst I came to Adonis chappel to be tost in my mari­age blankets with Dorus, I left my little dog pearl plucking dazies:

duke

Who sent you to Diannes oke to dig gold?

Gry:

who sent you to take your husband in Manasses house?

wife:

dorus.

duke

who sent you to Adonis chappell.

mep:

dorus:

duke

And who turnd you into this shape:

Man:

They that I feare haue made guls of vs all, Zelmane, and dorus:

duke:

we are all simply gulde, and see where the Sunne scarce halfeready, skippes from his Easterne bed, smiling at our gullery:

Enter Lisander and demetrius.
dem:

Come wheres this lusty wit-maister.

Lisa:

the keeper of this loue-lottery,

dem:

This gallant luventus of fourscore, that like my Lady of the Lake, displaies against al commers.

Lisan.

May a couple of plaine witted princes haue a sight of your prizes:

dem:

Where be these Ladies ha? ha your wits had such a skirmishing that the two maides haue lost their heads in the conflict.

dut;

Heads, I and bodyes to my Lorde, and all at one shot, and which is worse our wits are so scatered with the terible blow that to be plaine we are scarce our owne men againe.

dem:

then you haue had some knock [...]ng,

mun:

so it appeares by the storie my Lord:

lisan:

How say y [...]u my lady, what Oule sings out of that Iuy bush

dem:

was your [...] knighted in this last action:

man:

I am [...]ch a foole, I loue my lord, I am no knight, I am Manasses, they made a plaine foole.

Dam:
[Page]

the onely were, for the gaurded foole is out of request: but faith my liedge how did your opposites behaue themselues, did they win the Wenches faire at the point?

Du.

At the very push of inuention, and went off cleere vntoucht,

Lisa:

And could you draw no blood of their wits:

Du.

Not a drop.

Lisa.

Nor demetrius neither, nor Manasses?

Du:

Neither, to our owne disgrace be it spoken, the carriage of their stratagem deserues applause, and I held it a credit to rest cap­tiue to such valiant conquerors?

Lisan:

Why so be, I like a man that wil confesse his error.

Da:

It merrits comisseration madam and my liege, not to detract from our worth: your eare, we two are the parties you wot on.

Du.

Ware you the men?

Lisan:

No he was the man, mary I was the woman in the moone, that made you walk al this last night like the man in the mist, I could say somewhat to you to Madam as for demetrius & his man let them stand like fooles as they are.

Du.

Can it be possible.

Da.

No, no, we are guls, Innocent sots, but lante tanta, the girles are ours we haue won em away to dargison.

Lisa:

Come we haue won the conquest, and thats sufficient.

Da.

You are a manasses tis not sufficient: aha not Hercules for iole, Ioue, for Danue, Apollo for daphene, pan for Si [...]ne, nay the whole pack of their piperly godheads could a dischargd a stratagem with more spirit of al merit, an ambling nag and a down a down we haue borne her away to dargison.

Enter Iulio and Hippolita.
dut.

Twas the most rarest, diuinest, Metaphisicalst, piece of inuention, that, what say you my leige.

Du:

I giue your desarts their full merrit you haue gotten equality

iulio:

All the wenches gaue you:

Da.

Alas what spirits vnder the moone could haue detainder but know that her cherry red lip, a downe, a downe.

Hip:

Trust me but you haue deserued high commendation.

iulio:

Your merrit stood of the vpper staire of admiration.

Dem:

Why thou hast a pretty relish of wit, now that canst see the broad ey of my desart at a little hole of demonstration.

iulo.

your desart saue me free, you haue done a most (to vse your own [Page] phrase) Metaphysicall piece of seruice, but you had some helpe int questionles,

Hip:

I do not thinke but the ladies had some hand int:

da,

A finger, I confesse a finger by the hope of perseuerance, a very litle finger.

iuli,

I thought asmuch by the making of the iest.

Hip,

I can­not detract from the ladies worth, for I knowem for excellent work women,

dam,

work women fit to make tailors men.

Hip.

I by my faith do I, nay your best tailors are arrant botchers to em, you shal haue a lady make an end of a sute, a court sute, espe­cially when all the tailors in a countrey know not how to set a stich int.

dorus,

Some ordinary sute perhaps.

Hip:

your best court suits that are, are finisht by ladies, I haue known a suit my selfe lien a making and maring 3, 4, and fiue yeare together and then a lady hath despacht it in a month with a wet finger, such a finger might the ladies haue in your plot.

de,

neuer wet a finger by this sun.

iuli.

Then she helpt you with one dry iest or other, but and we may be so bold: faith where are the ladies?

da.

sure enogh I warrant you, some fooles now would haue kept em heare and haue beene guld on em againe, and laught at age, bvt to preuent all danger, we haue shipt em home for Lacedemon,

iulio:

to Lacedemon, your sunne of wit shines but dimly in that methinkes, to whose charge haue you trusted em?

Lisan:

to them we durst, nay you must thinke wee are no fooles,

iu.

Fooles: nay deepe wit, and pollicy forbid.

Da,

We had no sooner their surprisall, but we had disguise ready, a ship ready, a couple of lusty friends ready, the Lacedemons intel­ligencers:

iuli.

durst you trust such pretious iewels in such rusty cas­kets:

da:

durst, our health, our liues: why they were my tenants, nay you must thinke we sifted them, we are no fooles in that neither.

hip:

If in any thing your wits deserue the bable tis in that,

iuli:

none but fools wold haue commited such inestimable peeres to a couple of strangers:

hip:

And in a ship to,

iu:

And vnder saile to.

dut:

And vnfurnisht of friends to.

du:

And without shipping to follow em to.

iu.

you were no fooles in any thing but that, & in that not to flatter, you expresse the true shape of folly and merely merrit the name of fools.

da.

What will you saie now when these fellowes surrender vs our loues?

Aunt
[Page]

Weele discharge you and set their names down for gulls in your stead.

De:

you know the prouerbe when the skie fals we shal haue larks.

Lisan:

And when you can bring proofe that we are cosend of our Wenches weele be the woodcocks.

Iulio:

Why then we haue once springed a couple of woodcockes.

Enter Violletta and Hippolita.
Aunt:

Doe you know these? Who are the fooles now?

deme:

Violletta.

Lisand:

My Hippolita:

dam:

What a strange change is heere:

Hippo:

yes faith gallants you haue very strange carding and you knew al, but I hope youle offer vp your cards and yeild the set lost.

dam:

Guls:

Lisan:

And abusd ile loose my life before I loose my honor,

dam.

Honor, and life before ile loose my loue:

Draw
Du:

Nay gentlemen we bar all violence, the liberty of our chal­lenge was to all alike equally free, and since these by faire play haue won em, it stands with our honor to see them peaceably possest of em, then surely take em, for though you weare the breeches giue vs leaue to stand a little:

Hippo:
why father ist not time that we were sped
Tis a great charge to keepe a maidenhead,
Loose it we must and to preuent il course,
Better to giuet then haue it stolne perforce,
if you be pleasd let enuy doe her worst
Spit out her poyson or containt and burst?
Welcome to all, to all a kind god night,
They trewly liue, that liue in scorne of spight.
FINIS.

In B. the last page, for Lord, read loue cannot be saued.

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