How like a sheep-biting rogue taken i'th' manner, Nor ever a string to lead thee to Elysium? Estif. I know you have mercy. Per. If I had tons of mercy thou deserv'st none. What new trick is now a-foot, and what new houses Have you i' th' air, what orchards in apparition? What canst thou say for thy life? Estif. Little or nothing. I know you'll kill me, and I know 'tis useless Per. Do, a very little, For I have farther business than thy killing. I have money yet to borrow; speak when you are ready. Estif. Now, now sir, now- [Shews a pistol. Come on! do you start off from me? Do you swear, great captain, have you seen a spirit? Per. Do you wear guns? Estif. I am a soldier's wife, sir,And by that privilege I may be arm'd. Now what's the news, and let's discourse more friendly, And talk of our affairs in peace. Per. Let me see, Prithee let me see thy gun, 'tis a very pretty one. Estif. No, no, sir, you shall feel. Per. Hold ye, villain! what, thine own husband? Estif. Let mine own husband then Be in's own wits: there, there's a thousand ducats. Who must provide for you? and yet you'll kill me! Per. I will not hurt thee for ten thousand mil lions. Estif. When will you redeem your jewels? I have pawn'd 'em You see for what; we must keep touch. And get as many more; I'll make thee famous. Estif. Come along with me; If that be vanished, there be more to hire, sir. Per. I see I am an ass when thou art near me. [Exeunt. Eater LEON, MARGARITA, and ALTEA, with a Taper. Leon. Is the fool come? Alt. Yes, and i' th' cellar fast, And there he stays his good hour till I call him; Alt. Has given me royally, Leon. Better and better still. Go, Margarita, Now play your prize; you say you dare be honest, VOL. III. Marg. Secure yourself, sir; give me the candle, Pass away in silence. [Exeunt LEON and ALTEA. [She knocks. Duke. Who's there? Oh, oh. Marg. My lord. Duke. [Within,] Have ye brought me comfort Come forth, 'tis I; come gently out, I'll help ye. Come softly too; how do you? Duke. Are there none here? Let me look round; we cannot be too wary. [Noise below. Oh, let me bless this hour! are you alone, sweet friend? Marg. Alone to comfort you. [CACA. makes a noise below. Duke. What's that you tumble? I have heard a noise this half hour under me, Marg. The fat thing's mad i' th' cellar, out. to satisfy me; you have Your life, I know; but is it fit I spoil ye? Cac. [Below.] Here's to the duke. I heard it plainly sound, Marg. You are hurt mortally, And fitter for your prayers, sir, than pleasure. What starts you make! I would not kiss you wantonly For the world's wealth: have I secured my husband, Duke, Heaven bless me ! Marg. And bless us both, for sure this is the devil; I plainly heard it now; he will come to fetch ye; A very spirit, for he spoke under ground, I And spoke to you just as you would have snatcht | And leave your youth, your honour, and your me: You are a wicked man, and sure this haunts ye; Would you were out o' th' house! Duke. I would I were, O' that condition I had leapt a window. Marg. And that's the least leap, if you mean to 'scape, sir. Why what a frantic man were you to come here, What a weak man to counterfeit deep wounds, To wound another deeper? Duke. Are you honest then? Marg. Yes, then, and now, and ever, and excellent honest, And exercise this pastime but to shew ye, Great men are fools sometimes as well as wretches. Would you were well hurt, with any hope of life, Cut to the brains, or run clean through the body, To get out quietly as you got in, sir. I wish it like a friend that loves you dearly; For if my husband take ye, and take ye thus a counterfeit, One that would clip his credit out of his honour, There is no mercy, nor an hour of pity; Duke. Would I were off fair! If ever lady caught me in a trap more— You say you love me; come, come, bravely now, Betray it in mine own house, wrong my husband, Like a night-thief, thou dar'st not name by daylight? Duke. I am most miserable. Marg. You are indeed, And, like a foolish thing, you have made your self so ; Could not your own discretion tell ye, sir, Marg. The devil haunts you sure, your sins are mighty; A drunken devil too, to plague your villany. Marg. There's a deep well In the next yard, if you dare venture drowning; It is but death. Duke. I would not die so wretchedly. Marg. Out of a garret window I'll let you down then. But say the rope be rotten? 'tis huge high too. Duke. Have you no mercy? Marg. Now you are frighted thoroughly, And find what 'tis to play the fool in folly, And see with clear eyes your detested folly, I'll be your guard. Duke. And I'll be your true servant, Ever from this hour virtuously to love ye, Chastely and modestly to look upon ye, And here I seal it. Marg. I may kiss a stranger, for you must now be so. Enter LEON, JUan, Alonzo, Sanchio. Leon. How do you, my lord? Methinks you look but poorly on this matter. Has my wife wounded ye? ye were well before. Pray, sir, be comforted, I have forgot all, Truly forgiven too. Wife, you are a right one, And now with unknown nations I dare trust ye. Juan. No more feigned fights, my lord; they never prosper. Leon. Who's this? the devil in the vault? Cac. Give me a cup of sack, and kiss me, lady; Kiss my sweet face, and make thy husband cuckold; An ocean of sweet sack; shall we speak treason? Duke. I had thought he had been a devil, 'Tis sacrilege to violate a wedlock; You rob two temples, make yourself twice guilty, You ruin hers, and spot her noble husband's. Duke. Let me begone; I'll never more attempt ye. Marg. You cannot go, 'tis not in me to save ye; Dare ye do ill, and poorly then shrink under it? Were I the duke Medina, I would fight now, For you must fight, and bravely, it concerns you. You do me double wrong if you sneak off, sir, And all the world would say I loved a coward; And you must die too, for you will be killed, Leon. There's two in thine, I'm sure, 'tis grown so monstrous. Caca. Butt in thy face. Leon. Go carry him to sleep; A fool's love should be drunk; he has paid well for't too. When he is sober, let him out to rail, Or hang himself; there will be no loss of him. [Exeunt CAC. und Servant. Enter PEREZ and ESTIFANIA. Leon. Who's this? my mahound cousin? Per. Good sir, 'tis very good; would I had a house too, For there is no talking in the open air; See it but once more. But I shall cry for anger. Leon. I must laugh a little; And now I have done, coz, thou shalt live with me, My merry coz, the world shall not divorce us; Thou art a valiant man, and thou shalt never want; Will this content thee? Per. I'll cry, and then I'll be thankful, Estif. If I prove otherwise, let me beg first. Hold, this is yours, some recompence for service; Use it to nobler ends than he that gave it. Duke. And this is yours, your true commission, sir; Now you are a captain. Leon. You are a noble prince, sir, And now a soldier; gentlemen, we all rejoice in't. Juan. Sir, I shall wait upon you through all fortunes. Alon. And I. Alt. And I must needs attend my mistress. Alt. Yes indeed, good brother; Marg. Is she your sister? Leon. Yes indeed, good wife, And my best sister; For she proved so, wench, When she deceived you with a loving husband. But it must be lovingly, and like a sister; Wear 'em before the bullet, and in blood too; We are Virtue's servants. Duke. And all the world shall know, a noble mind Makes women beautiful, and envy blind. [Exeunt, EPILOGUE. GOOD night, our worthy friends, and may you | And give a blessing to our labouring ends, As we hope many, to such fortune sends Enter PETER and ANTHONY, two serving Men. Pet. WOULD we were remov'd from this town, Anthony, That we might taste some quiet; for mine own part, I'm almost melted with continual trotting Of who knows whom or where. Serve wenching soldiers! I'll serve a priest in Lent first, and eat bell-ropes. Tell me but this; to what end came we hither? Pet. Shew your uses, Anthony. Not any thing, I take it, nor that thing geon: In no such things, sweet Anthony. Put caseAnt. Come, come, all will be mended: this invisible woman, Of infinite shape and beauty, That bred all this trouble to no purpose, Men known to run mad with report before? Answer me that; resolve me there, good Anthony. To find; or, if found, how to enjoy? Are men's Ant. To serve their uses. brains Made now-a-days with malt, that their affections Ant. Pr'ythee, be thou sober, And know that they are none of those, not guilty To give the wonder over. Pet. Would they were resolv'd To give me some new shoes too; for I'll be sworn [Exeunt. Enter Don JOHN and Don FREDERICK. John. I would we could have seen her though; for sure She must be some rare creature, or report lies: All men's reports too. Fred. I could well wish I had seen Constantia: But, since she is so conceal'd, plac'd where No knowledge can come near her, so guarded As 'twere impossible, though known, to reach her, I have made up my belief. John. Hang me, from this hour, If I more think upon her; But, as she came a strange report unto me, Fred. 'Tis the next way But whither are you walking? After my meat, and then to bed. John. Will you not stir? John. I'd lay my life, this lady still- John. I have something to impart. I will not miss to meet ye. 1 Gent. Too open, indiscreet. Petr. Am I not ruin'd? The honour of my house crack'd? my blood poison'd? My credit and my name? 2 Gent. Be sure it be so, Before you use this violence. Let not doubt And then dispute the cause; cut off what may be, And what is shall be safe. 2 Gent. Hang up a true man, Because 'tis possible he may be thievish: Alas! is this good justice? Petr. I know as certain As day must come again, as clear as truth, compence, Maliciously abus'd, blasted for ever In name and honour, lost to all remembrance, But what is smear'd and shameful: I must kill him, Necessity compels me. 2 Gent. But think better. Petr. There's no other cure left; yet witness with me All that is fair in man, all that is noble: I wish it with my soul, so much I tremble nour, So much I am tied to reputation, And credit of my house, let it raise wild-fires, And storms that toss me into everlasting ruin, Yet I must through; if ye dare side me. Ant. Dare! Petr. Y' are friends indeed: if not! 2 Gent. Here's none flies from you; Do it in what design you please, we'll back ye. 1 Gent. Is the cause so mortal? nothing but his life? Petr. Believe me, A less offence has been the desolation 1 Gent. No other way to purge it? Petr. There is, but never to be hop'd for. 2 Gent. Think an hour more, And if then you find no safer road to guide ye, We'll set our rests too. |