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Yet, rather than my father's reverend dust
Shall want a place in that fair monument,
In which our noble ancestors lie entombed,
Before the court I offer up myself

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,
So he may be released.

1 Cred. What mean you, sir?

2 Adoo. Only your fee again: There's so
much said

Already in this cause, and said so well,
That, should I only offer to speak in it,
I should be or not heard, or laughed at for it.
1 Cred, 'Tis the first money advocate e'er gave
back,

Though he said nothing.

Roch. Be advised, young lord,
And well consider it; you throw away
Your liberty and joys of life together:
Your bounty is employed upon a subject

That is not sensible of it, with which wise man
Never abused his goodness. The great virtues
Of your dead father vindicate themselves

From these men's malice, and break ope the
prison,

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,
As to neglect a possibility

To get their own, by seeking it from that
Which can return them nothing but ill fame,
And curses for their barbarous cruelties.

3 Cred. What think you of the offer?
2 Cred. Very well.

1 Cred. Accept it by all means: Let's shut

him up;

He is well shaped, and has a villainous tongue,
And, should he study that way of revenge,
As I dare almost swear he loves a wench,
We have no wives, nor ever shall get daughters,
That will hold out against him.

Du Croy. What's your answer?
2 Cred. Speak you for all.

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.
Char. I thank your lordships.

They have in it confirmed on me such glory,
As no time can take from me. I am ready:
Come, lead me where you please: Captivity,
That comes with honour, is true liberty.

[Exeunt CHARALOIS, CHARMI, Creditors,
and Officers.

Nov. sen. Strange rashness !
Roch. A brave resolution rather,
Worthy a better fortune: but, however,
It is not now to be disputed; therefore

To my own cause. Already I have found
Your lordships bountiful in your favours to me;
And that should teach my modesty to end here,
And press your loves no farther.

Du Croy. There is nothing

The court can grant, but with assurance you
May ask it, and obtain it.

Roch. You encourage a bold petitioner, and 'tis not fit

Your favours should be lost: Besides, it has been
A custom many years, at the surrendering
The place I now give up, to grant the president
One boon, that parted with it. And, to confirm
Your grace towards me, against all such as may
Detract my actions and life hereafter,

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
Within my power but this.

Roch. Am I denied then my first and last re
quest?

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,
We will make known our power.

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?

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SCENE I.-A Street before the Prison.

ACT II.

Enter PONTALIER, MALOTIN, and BEAUMONT.
Malot. 'Tis strange.
Beaum. Methinks so.

Pont. In a man but young,

Yet old in judgment; theorick and practick,
In all humanity, and (to increase the wonder)
Religious, yet a soldier, that he should
Yield his free-living youth a captive, for
The freedom of his aged father's corpse,
And rather chuse to want life's necessaries,
Liberty, hope of fortune, than it should
In death be kept from christian ceremony.
Malot. Come, 'tis a golden precedent in a son
To let strong Nature have the better hand,
(In such a case) of all affected reason.
What years sit on this Charalois ?

Beaum. Twenty-eight;

For since the clock did strike him seventeen old,
Under his father's wing this son hath fought,
Served and commanded, and so aptly both,
That sometimes he appeared his father's father,
And never less than his son; the old man's virtues
So recent in him, as the world may swear,
Nought but a fair tree could such fair fruit bear.
Pont. But wherefore lets he such a barbarous
law,

And men more barbarous to execute it,
Prevail on his soft disposition,
That he had rather die alive for debt

Of the old man in prison, than they should
Rob him of sepulture, considering
These monies borrowed bought the lenders peace,
And all their means they enjoy, nor were diffused
In any impious or licentious path?

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,
Ere prey on me so with their lion-law,
Being in my free will (as in his) to shun it.

Pont. Alas! he knows himself in poverty lost :
For in this partial avaricious age
What price bears honour? virtue? Long ago
It was but praised and freezed; but now-a days
"Tis colder far, and has nor love nor praise :
The very praise now freezeth too; for nature
Did make the heathen far more christian then,
Than knowledge us, less heathenish, christian.
Malot. This morning is the funeral ?
Pont. Certainly,

And from this prison,-'twas the son's request.
That his dear father might interment have.
See, the young son enter'd a lively grave!

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
night,

And gliding softly with our windy sighs,
Moves the whole frame of this solemnity!
Tears, sighs and blacks filling the simile;
Whilst I, the only murmur in this grove
Of death, thus hollowly break forth.-Vouchsafe
To stay awhile. Rest, rest in peace, dear earth!
Thou that brought'st rest to their unthankfullives,
Whose cruelty denied thee rest in death!
Here stands thy poor executor, thy son,
That makes his life prisoner to bail thy death;
Who gladlier puts on this captivity,
Than virgins, long in love, their wedding weeds.
Of all that ever thou hast done good to,
These only have good memories; for they
Remember best, forget not gratitude.
I thank you for this last and friendly love;

[To SOLD.
And though this country, like a viperous mother,
Not only hath eat up ungratefully
All means of thee, her son, but last thyself,
Leaving thy heir so bare and indigent,
He cannot raise thee a poor monument,
Such as a flatterer or an usurer hath;

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

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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
good man.

I would they were at the Bermudas!
Jailor. You must no farther.

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,
All I have left in my dead father's rights,
And I have done. Captain, wear thou these spurs,
That yet ne'er made his horse run from a foe.
Lieutenant, thou this scarf; and may it tie
Thy valour and thy honesty together:
For so it did in him. Ensign, this cuirass,
Your general's necklace once. You gentle bearers,
Divide this purse of gold: This other strew
Among the poor;-'tis all I have. Romont,
Wear thou this medal of himself, that, like
A hearty oak, grew'st close to this tall pine,
E'en in the wildest wilderness of war,
Whereon foes broke their swords, and tired them-

selves:

Wounded and hacked ye were, but never felled.
For me, my portion provide in heaven !-
My root is earthed, and I, a desolate branch,
Left scattered in the highway of the world,
Trod under foot, that might have been a column
Mainly supporting our demolished house.
This would I wear as my inheritance.-
And what hope can arise to me from it,
When I and it are both here prisoners!
Only may this, if ever we be free,
Keep or redeem me from all infamy.
DIRGE.

Fie! cease to wonder,
Though you hear Orpheus, with his ivory lute,
Move trees and rocks,

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

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perforce,

Your ill wills

Turn now to charity: They would not have us
Walk too far mourning; usurers relief
Grieves if the debtors have too much of grief.
[Exeunt.

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,

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Bella. Uds-light! enjoy your wishes: whilst I live,

One way or other you shall crown your will.
Would you have him your husband that you love,
And can it not be? he is your servant, though,
And may perform the office of a husband.

Beaumel. But there is honour, wench.
Bella. Such a disease

There is indeed, for which ere I would die.—
Beaum. Prithee, distinguish me a maid and wife.
Bella. 'Faith, madam, one may bear any man's
children, t'other must bear no man's.

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.
Pont. What's that?

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.
Pont. Troth, 'tis pity, sir.

A braver hope of so assured a father
Did never comfort France.

Lilad. A good dumb mourner.
Aymer. A silent black.

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. Now, out upon him!
Beaumel. Servant, tie my hand.

[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.
Monsieur Aymer, I prithee sing the song
Devoted to my mistress.
[Music

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
Come, strangle breath.
Man. What note so sweet as this,

That calls the spirits to a further bliss?
Wom. Yet this out-savours wine, and this perfume.
Man. Let's die; I languish, I consume.

After the song, enter ROCHFORT and BEAUMONT.
Beaum. Romont will come, sir, straight.
Roch. 'Tis well..
Beaumel. My father!

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
me leave,-

I have some private conference with my daughter;
Pray use my garden: you shall dine with me.
Lilad. We'll wait on you.

Nov. jun. Good morn unto your lordship;
Remember what you have vowed-

[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
found

A wholesome remedy for these maiden fits;
A goodly oak whereon to twist my vine,
Till her fair branches grow up to the stars.
Be near at hand.-Success crown my intent!
My business fills my little time so full,
I cannot stand to talk; I know thy duty
Is handmaid to my will, especially
When it presents nothing but good and fit.
Beaumel. Sir, I am yours.-Oh! if my fears
prove true,

Fate hath wronged love, and will destroy me too.
[Exit BEAUMEL,

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-
coming,

Upon my word:-Sit down, good colonel.
[Exit Jailor.

Why I did wish you hither, noble sir,
Is to advise you from this iron carriage,
Which, so affected, Romont, you will wear;
To pity, and to counsel you to submit
With expedition to the great Novall:
Recant

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
And am now more afraid you know not me,
By wishing my submission to Novall,

That wait upon him to pronounce the censure,
Could it determine me torments and shame.
Submit and crave forgiveness of a beast!-
'Tis true, this boil of state wears purple tissue,
Is high fed, proud; so is his lordship's horse,
This elephant carries on his back not only
And bears as rich caparisons. I know
Towers, castles, but the ponderous republic,
And never stoops for it; with his strong-breathed
trunk

Snuffs other's titles, lordships, offices,
Wealth, bribes, and lives, under his ravenous jaws:
What's this unto my freedom? I dare die;
And therefore ask this camel, if these blessings
(For so they would be understood by a man)
But mollify one rudeness in his nature,
Sweeten the eager relish of the law,
At whose great helm he sits. Helps he the poor
In a just business? Nay, does he not cross
Every deserved soldier and scholar,
As if, when nature made him, she had made
The general antipathy of all virtue?
How savagely and blasphemously he spake
Touching the general, the brave general, dead!
I must weep when I think on't.

Roch. Sir.

Rom. My lord, I am not stubborn: I can melt,

you see,

And prize a virtue better than
my life:
For though I be not learned, I ever loved
That holy mother of all issues good,
Whose white hand, for a sceptre, holds a file
To polish roughest customs; and in you
She has her right: See! I am calm as sleep.
But whenI think of the gross injuries,
The godless wrong done to my general dead,
I rave indeed, and could eat this Novall;
A soulless dromedary!

Roch. Oh! be temperate.

Sir, though I would persuade, I'll not constrain;
Each man's opinion freely is his own,
Concerning any thing, or any body;
Be it right or wrong, 'tis at the judge's peril.
Enter BEAUMONT.

Beaum. These men, sir, wait without; my
lord is come too.

Roch. Pay them those sums upon the table; take
Their full releases :-Stay, I want a witness:
Let me intreat you, colonel, to walk in,
And stand but by to see this money paid;
It does concern you and your friend; it was
The better cause you were sent for, though said

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