Yet, rather than my father's reverend dust A prisoner for it. Load me with those irons That have worn out his life: in my best strength FT'll run to the encounter of cold hunger, And chuse my dwelling where no sun dares enter, 1 Cred. What mean you, sir? 2 Adoo. Only your fee again: There's so Already in this cause, and said so well, Though he said nothing. Roch. Be advised, young lord, That is not sensible of it, with which wise man From these men's malice, and break ope the Though it contain his body. Nov. sen. Let him alone: If he love cords, in God's name, let him wear them, Provided these consent. Char. I hope they are not So ignorant in any way of profit, To get their own, by seeking it from that 3 Cred. What think you of the offer? 1 Cred. Accept it by all means: Let's shut him up; He is well shaped, and has a villainous tongue, Du Croy. What's your answer? 1 Cred. Why, let our executions, That lie upon the father, be returned Upon the son, and we release the body. Nov. sen. The court must grant you that. They have in it confirmed on me such glory, [Exeunt CHARALOIS, CHARMI, Creditors, Nov. sen. Strange rashness ! To my own cause. Already I have found Du Croy. There is nothing The court can grant, but with assurance you Roch. You encourage a bold petitioner, and 'tis not fit Your favours should be lost: Besides, it has been I now prefer it to you. Du Croy, Speak it freely. Roch. I then desire the liberty of Romont, And that my lord Novall, whose private wrong Was equal to the injury that was done To the dignity of the court, will pardon it, And now sign his enlargement. Nov. sen. Pray you demand The moiety of my estate, or any thing Roch. Am I denied then my first and last re Du Croy. It must not be. 2 Pre. I have a voice to give in it. 3 Pre. And I. And, if persuasion will not work him to it, Nov. sen. You are too violent; You shall have my consent. But would you had Made trial of my love in any thing But this, you should have found then-But it skills not. You have what you desire. Roch. I thank your lordships. Du Croy. The court is up-Make way. [Exeunt all but ROCHFORT and BEAUMONT. Roch. I follow you. Beaumont ! Beaum. My lord? SCENE I.-A Street before the Prison. ACT II. Enter PONTALIER, MALOTIN, and BEAUMONT. Pont. In a man but young, Yet old in judgment; theorick and practick, Beaum. Twenty-eight; For since the clock did strike him seventeen old, And men more barbarous to execute it, Of the old man in prison, than they should Beaum. True! for my part, were it my father's trunk, The tyrannous ram-heads with their horns should gore it, Or cast it to their curs, than they less currish, Pont. Alas! he knows himself in poverty lost : And from this prison,-'twas the son's request. Beaum. They come observe their order. Enter funeral. The body borne by four. Cap tains and soldiers, mourners, 'scutcheons, &c. in very good order. CHARALOIS and ROMONT meet it. CHARALOIS speaks. ROMONT weeping. Solemn musick. Three Creditors. Char. How like a silent stream shaded with And gliding softly with our windy sighs, [To SOLD. Thy worth, in every honest breast, builds one, Making their friendly hearts thy funeral stone. Pont. Sir. Char. Peace! O peace! This scene is wholly 1 Cred. Would they so? We'll keep them to stop bottles then. Rom. No, keep them for your own sins, you rogues, Till you repent; you'll die else, and be damned. 2.Cred. Damned!-ha! ha! ha! Rom. Laugh ye? 1 Cred. No further; look to them at your own peril. 2 Cred. No, as they please: Their master's a I would they were at the Bermudas! The prison limits you, and the creditors 2 Cred. Yes, faith, sir; we would be very glad Exact the strictness. To please you either way. 1 Cred. You are ne'er content, Crying nor laughing. Rom. Both with a birth, ye rogues? 2 Cred. Our wives, sir, taught us. Rom. Look, look, you slaves! your cruelty, thankless And savage manners of unkind Dijon, Exhaust these floods, and not his father's death. 1 Cred. 'Slid, sir! what would you, you're so cholerick! 2 Cred. Most soldiers are so, 'faith.-Let him alone. They've little else to live on; we have not had A penny of him, have we? 3 Cred. 'Slight, would you have our hearts? 1 Cred. We have nothing but his body here in durance, For all our money. Priest. On. Chur. One moment more, But to bestow a few poor legacies, selves: Wounded and hacked ye were, but never felled. Fie! cease to wonder, Charm bulls, bears, and men more savage,tobemute; Weak foolish singer, here is one Would have transformed thyself to stone. Rom. Out, you wolfish mongrels! Whose brains should be knocked out, like dogs in perforce, Your ill wills Turn now to charity: They would not have us SCENE II.-A Room in Rochfort's House. Enter BEAUMELLE,FLORIMEL, and BELLAPERT. Beaumel. I prithee tell me, Florimel, why do you women marry? Flor. Why truly, madam, I think, to lie with their husbands. Bella. You are a fool. She lies, madam; women marry their husbands, to lie with other men. Flor. 'Faith, even such a woman wilt thou make. By this light, madam, this wagtail will spoil you, if you take delight in her licence. Beaumel. 'Tis true, Florimel; and thou wilt make me too good for a young lady. What an electuary found my father out for his daughter, when he compounded you two my women! For thou, Florimel, art even a grain too heavy, simply, for a waiting-gentlewoman Flor. And thou, Bellapert, a grain too light. Bella. Well, go thy ways, goody wisdom, whom nobody regards. I wonder whether be elder, thou or thy hood? You think, because you served my lady's mother, are thirty-two years old, which is a pip out, you know Flor. Well said, whirligig. Bella. You are deceived: I want a peg in the middle. Out of these prerogatives, you think to be mother of the maids here, and mortify them with proverbs: go, go, govern the sweetmeats, and weigh the sugar, that the wenches steal none; say your prayers twice a day, and, as I take it, you have performed your functions. Flor. I may be even with you. Bella. Hark! the court's broke up; go help my old lord out of his caroch, and scratch his head till dinner-time, Bella. Uds-light! enjoy your wishes: whilst I live, One way or other you shall crown your will. Beaumel. But there is honour, wench. There is indeed, for which ere I would die.— Beaumel. What is a husband? Bella. Physick, that, tumbling in your belly, will make you sick in the stomach. The only distinction betwixt a husband and a servant is, the first will lie with you when he pleases; the last shall lie with you when you please. Pray tell me, lady, do you love, to marry after, or would you marry, to love after? Beaumel. I would meet love and marriage both at once. Bella. Why then you are out of the fashion, and will be contemned: for I will assure you, there are few women in the world, but either they have married first, and loved after; or love first, and married after. You must do as you may, not as you would; your father's will is the goal you must fly to. If a husband approach you, you would have further off, is he you love, the less near you? A husband in these days is but a cloak, to be oftener laid upon your bed, than in your bed. Beaumel. Hum! Bella. Sometimes you may wear him on your shoulders; now and then under your arm; but seldom or never let him cover you, for 'tis not the fashion. Enter NOVALL junior, PONTALIER, MALOTIN, LILADAM, and AYMER. Nov. jun. Best day to nature's curiosity, Star of Dijon, the lustre of all France! Perpetual spring dwell on thy rosy cheeks, Whose breath is perfume to our continent!— See! Flora trimmed in her varieties. Bella. Oh, divine lord! Nov. jun. No autumn nor no age ever approach This heavenly piece, which nature having wrought, She lost her needle, and did then despair Ever to work so lively and so fair! Lilad. Uds-light, my lord, one of the purls of your band Is, without all discipline, fallen out of his rank. Nov. jun. How? I would not for a thousand crowns she had seen it. Dear Liladam, reform it. Bella. Oh, lord per se, lord! Quintessence of honour! she walks not under a weed that could deny thee any thing. Beaumel. Prythee peace, wench! thou dost but blow the fire, That flames too much already. [LILADAM and AYMER trim NOVALL, whilst BELLAPERT her lady. Aymer. By gad, my lord, you have the divinest taylor in Christendom; he hath made you look like an angel in your cloth-of-tissue doublet. Pont. This is a three-legged lord; there is a fresh assault. Oh! that men should spend time thus!-See, see how her blood drives to her heart, and strait vaults to her cheeks again! Malot. What are these? Pont. One of them there, the lower, is a good, foolish, knavish, sociable gallimaufry of a man, and has much caught my lord with singing; he is master of a music house. The other is his dressing block, upon whom my lord lays all his cloaths and fashions, ere he vouchsafes them his own person; you shall see him in the morning in the galley-foist, at noon in the bullion, in the evening in Quirpo, and all night in— Malot. A bawdy-house. Pont. If my lord deny, they deny; if he affirm, they affirm: They skip into my lord's cast skins some twice a year; and thus they flatter to eat, eat to live, and live to praise my lord. Malot. Good sir, tell me one thing. Malot. Dare these men ever fight on any cause? Pont. Oh, no, 'twould spoil their clothes, and put their bands out of order. Nov. jun. Mistress, you hear the news? Your father has resigned his presidentship to my lord my father. Malot. And lord Charalois undone for ever. A braver hope of so assured a father Lilad. A good dumb mourner. Nov. jun. Oh, fie upon him, how he wears his clothes! As if he had come this Christmas from St Omers, To see his friends, and returned after twelfth-tide. Lilad. His colonel looks finely like a droverNov. jun. That had a winter lain perdue in the rain. Aymer. What, he that wears a clout about his neck, His cuffs in his pocket, and his heart in his mouth? [Nov. jun. kisses her hand. How your lips blush, in scorn that they should pay Tribute to hands, when lips are in the way! Nov. jun. I thus recant; yet now your hand looks white, Because your lips robbed it of such a right. SONG. A Dialogue between a Man and a Woman. Man. Set, Phubus! set; a fairer sun doth rise From the bright radiance of my mistress' eyes Than ever thou begat'st: I dare not look; Each hair a golden line, each word a hook, The more I strive, the more still I am took. Wom. Fair servant! come; the day these eyes do lend To warm thy blood, thou dost so vainly spend, Than I can be of all the bellowing mouths That calls the spirits to a further bliss? After the song, enter ROCHFORT and BEAUMONT. Nov. jun. My honourable lord! Roch. My lord Novall! this is a virtue in you, So early up and ready before noon, That are the map of dressing through all France! Nov. jun. I rise to say my prayers, sir; here's my saint. Roch. 'Tis well and courtly;—you must give I have some private conference with my daughter; Nov. jun. Good morn unto your lordship; [To BEAUMELLE. [Exeunt all but ROCHFORT and BEAUMELLE. Beaumel. Perform I must. Roch. Why how now, Beaumelle? thou look'st not well. Thou art sad of late;-come cheer thee, I have A wholesome remedy for these maiden fits; Fate hath wronged love, and will destroy me too. Enter ROMONT and Jailor. Rom. Sent you for me, sir? Roch. Yes. Rom. Your lordship's pleasure? Roch. Keeper, this prisoner I will see forth- Upon my word:-Sit down, good colonel. Why I did wish you hither, noble sir, your stern contempt and slight neglect Of the whole court and him, and opportunely, Or you will undergo a heavy censure In public, very shortly. Rom. Reverend sir, well; I have observed you, and do know you That wait upon him to pronounce the censure, Snuffs other's titles, lordships, offices, Roch. Sir. Rom. My lord, I am not stubborn: I can melt, you see, And prize a virtue better than Roch. Oh! be temperate. Sir, though I would persuade, I'll not constrain; Beaum. These men, sir, wait without; my Roch. Pay them those sums upon the table; take |