A Collection of Old English Plays, Vol. II - Various
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_Enter Y[oung] Marlowe and Thurston_.
_Mar_. Madam, this Gent[leman]
Desires to have you know him for your son:
Tis he my sister _Clariana_, with your licence,
Wishes for husband.
_Lady_. A proper Gent[leman]; Ime happy she has made
So iuditious an election.[96]
You are very welcome, sir: conduct him in, Sonn.
[_Exeunt Young Marlowe and Thurston_.
_Bon_. Persuade me I can hate
Sleepe after tedious watching, or reiect
The wholesome ayre when I've bin long choakd up
With sicklie foggs: sooner shall--
_Lady_. Desist from protestations, or employ them
Mong those who have no more discretion
Then to beleive them.
_Bon_. How, Lady?
_Lady_. You can in Justice now no more appeach
Our mutabillities, since you have provd
So manifestly [in]constant.
_Bon_. These are arts
Orewhelme my dull capacity with horror:
Inconstant!
_Lady_. Are the light faines erected on the tops
Of lofty structures stedfast, which each wind
Rules with its motion? credulous man, I thought
My daughters reall vertues had inspired thee
With so much confidence as not to loose
The estimation of her honor for
My bare assertion, without questioning
The time or any the least circumstance
That might confirm't. I did but this to try
Your constancy: farewell. [_Exit_.
_Bon_. What witch had duld my sense
That such a stuped Lethurgie should sease
My intellectuall faculties they could not
Perceive this drift! If she be virtuous,
As no man but an heretick to truth
Would have imagind, how shall I excuse
My slanderous malice? my old fire renewes
And in an instant with its scortching flames
Burnes all suspicon up.
_Enter Belisea_.
_Bel_. Peace attend you.
_Bon_. What Cherubim has left the quire in heaven
And warbles peacefull Anthems to the earth?
It is her voyce, that to all eares speakes health,
Only to mine. Come charitable mist
Hide me, or freindly wherlewind rap me hence,
Or her next accent, like the thunderers, will
Strike me to dust.
_Bel_. Sir, I come not
With resolution (though my innocence
May justly arme [me]) to declare my truth;
For I am going where your slander cannot
(Had it bin greater) blast me. I desire
This for my past love, that youle retaine
Your wrong opinion to yourselfe, not labour
To possesse others with it, to disgrace
Our yet unspotted family.
_Bon_. If you want
A partner in your greife, take me along
That can teach you and all the world true Sorrow.
_Bel_. Twas not don well to brand my spotles name
With Infamy; but to deride me is
Inhumaine, when I only come to tell you
Ile send my prayers on charities white wings
To heaven for your prosperity.--You greive
For what? for your deliverance from a strumpet?
_Bon_. No, but that my raving fancy should direct
My trecherous tongue with that detested name
To afflict thy unblemishd purity, _Belisea_.
I do confes my error was an act
Soe grosse and heathnish that its very sight
Would have inforcd a Crocodile to weepe
Drops as sincere as does the timorous heart
When he ore heares the featherd arrow sing
His funerall Dirge.
_Bel_. Can this be possible?
_Bon_. No sismatick, reduc'd to the true faith,
Can more abhorre the Error he has left
Than I do mine. I do beleive thee chast
As the straight palme; as absolute from spots
As the immaculate Ermine, who does choose,
When he is hunted by the frozen _Russe_,
To meete the toyle ere he defile the white
Of his rich skin. What seas of teares will serve
To expiatt the scandall I have throwne
On holy Innocence?
_Bel_. Well, I forgive you;
But ere I seale your pardon I in[j]oyne
This as a pennance: you shall now declare
The author of your wrong report.
_Bon_. Your mother.
_Bel_. How! my mother?
_Bon_. No creature else
Could have inducd me to such a madnes.
_Bel_. Defend me gracious virtue! is this man
Not desperate of remission, that without
Sense of compu[n]ction dares imagine lies
Soe horrible and godlesse? My disgrace
Was wrong sufficient to tempt mercie, yet
Cause twas my owne I pardond it; but this
Inferd toth piety of my guiltless mother
Stops all indulgence.
_Bon_. Will you not heare me out?
_Bel_. Your words will deafe me;
I doe renounce my affection to you; when
You can speake truth, protest you love agen.
[_Exit_.
_Bon_. Contempt repaid with scorne; tis my desert;
Poyson soone murders a love wounded heart.
[_Exit_.
(SCENE 2.)
_Enter Belisea, Clariana and Thorowgood_.
_Bel_. You may declare your will[97] here are no eares
But those I will not banish, were your busines
More secret.
_Tho_. Lady, I come to free
My worthy freind and your owne servant, _Bonvill_,
From an uniust suspition your conceite
Retaines of him. Your mother did employ me
In the unlucky message that pronouncd you
Empty of honor.
_Bel_. Has your worthles freind
Hird you to sweare this?
_Tho_. I'me none that live
By selling oathes.
_Bel_. Ile scarce believ't; he shall not
With all his cunning policie regaine
My good opinion of him. Sir, you cannot
Doe a more pleasing office then to leave me:
I do not love to heare of him.
_Tho_. Your pleasure rules me. [_Exit_.
_Cla_. _Belisea_, you did ill
Not to heare out the Gent[leman].
_Bel_. Prethe why?
His owne confession does appeach him one
In the conspiracy against my honor.
He sayes my mother was the originall
Of _Bonviles_ slaunder; and how impious
Twere for a child to thinke so, filiall duty
Instructs my knowlidge.
_Cla_. Be not confident;
Your piety may misleade you. Though your mother,
Shees passion like to us; we had it from her.
Ile say no more; the event will testifie
Whoes in the fault.[98]
_Enter Sucket and Crackby_.
_Suc_. Be not abashd; a little impudence is requisite;
Observe me, with what a garbe and gesture martiall
I will beseige their fortresses.
_Bel_. Who sent these fooles to trouble us?--Gent[lemen],
We have some conference will admit no audience
Besides ourselves.
We must desire you to withdraw, or give us
Leave to do soe.
_Suc_. Men of warr are not soe easily put to a retreat; it suites not
with their repute.
_Cla_. Heele fight with us, sister: weed best procure him bound toth
peace.
_Crac_. Ladies, I must no more endure repulse;
I come to be a suiter.
_Bel_. For what?
_Crac_. Why, that you would with Judgment overlooke
This lovely countenance.
_Cla_. The hangman shall doe't sooner.
_Crac_. If you knew
How many bewtious gentlewomen have sued
To have my picture--
_Cla_. To hang at their beds head for a _memento mori_--
_Crac_. You would regard it with more curiosity.
There was a merchants daughter the other day
Runn mad at sight of itt.
_Cla_. It scared her from her witts: she thought the
divell had haunted her.
_Suc_. Valour deserves regard, myne shall propugne
Your bewty gainst all opposers.
_Bel_. Alasse! mine is so meane,
None will contend with it, it needs no champions.
_Crac_. Contemne me not, lady; I am--
_Cla_. A most egregious asse.
_Crac_. Most nobly propagatted; my father was a man
Well fu[rnish'd] with white and yellow mettall.
_Cla_. I lay my life a Tinker.
_Crac_. And in his parish of account.
_Cla_. A Scavenger.
_Bel_. Is it a badge of your profession
To be uncivell?
_Suc_. Uncivell!
Noe; what is in other men uncivill
In us is resolution; therefore yeild:
I am invincible, flesh cannot stand
Before me.
_Bel_. It must be drunke then.
_Cla_. I am not ith humour now
To laugh, or else Ide not dismisse him yet.
Good Mr. _Crackby_, does your wisdome thinke
That I can love you?
_Crac_. My worth deserves it.
_Cla_. Well said, impudence.
Goe, get you home toth Cittie; goe solicitt
Some neighbors daughter; match with _Nan_ your Schoolefellow
With whome you usd to walk to _Pimblicoe_[99]
To eate plumbe cakes and creame,--one of your parish,
Good what-doe-you-lack.
_Crac_. This is offensive to
My reputation.
_Cla_. You shall heare more on't:
When thou art married, if the kind charity
Of other men permitt thee to geet thee children
That call thy wife mother, bring them up
To people shopps and cheat for 18d,
The pretious youth that fathers them.
Walke, walke, you and your Captaine _Huff_ to _London_,
And tell thy mother how thou has't sped i'th country,
And let her moane thee.
_Crac_. Captaine, we must give place; these girles are firebrands,
And we as straw before them.
_Suc_. They may stand
In neede of valour.
[_Exeunt Suc. and Crac_.
_Enter Thurston_.
_Cla_. Have you oreheard us? these are the lads will do't,
When 20 such as you will be cast off.
_Thu_. Like a bob'd[100] Hawke.--Mrs, if I mistake not,
Your mother does inquire for you.
_Bel_. I will attend her pleasure. [_Exit_.
_Cla_. Doe not goe, wench; we shall scarce be honest.
_Thu_. Love, is it time, after the services
I have perform'd, to have some salary?
Noe labourer works without his hier; I would
Be satisfied when you determine we
Shall end our hopes in marriage.
_Cla_. I have lookt for this month in my Calender
And find that marriage is prohibited.
_Thu_. It is not Lent nor Advent;[101] if it were
The Court is not so strickt but 'twill dispense
With freinds, and graunt a licence.
_Cla_. Whole be bound
With you that theres no hindrance but we may
Be lawfully espoused?
_Thu_. Ime not so barren
Of freinds but I shall find security
For what will nere be question'd.
_Cla_. It may be soe; but one who calculated
My birth did warne me to abstaine from marriage
Til I was twenty.
_Thu_. You're no _Atlanta_; if you be, Ile play
_Hippomanes_ and over runn you.
_Cla_. You'd scarce catch me,
Though you had _Venus_ apples to seduce
My covetous eyes. Henceforth Ide have you leave
Your love to me.
_Thu_. I must leave to live then.
Why doe you say soe?
_Cla_. Cause it is [un]iust
You should mispend affection on her
Who is incapeable of it.
_Thu_. You'd faine wrest
A new expence of complement from me:
If you delight to heare your praise, Ile hire
Some mercenary [poet][102] to comend
In lofty verse your bewty.
_Cla_. You are merry:
My humor is not specious; we must know
A further distance.
_Thu_. Wherefore, pray?
Our eyes are no more poysonous then they were.
_Cla_. Yes, they infect reciprocall.
_Thu_. This language
Is not accustomd; pray, tell me how
My presence is offensive, and Ile shun you[103]
As I would doe my fate. You are not serious:
My innocence assures me my deserts
Can chalenge no such usage.
_Cla_. Tis confest; but we
Are like thinne christall glasses that will crack
By touching one another: I coniure thee
By all our past love, from this parting minute
Nere to behold me more. I dare not venter
My frailty with thee.
_Thu_. What immodesty
Has my demeaner uttred you should doubt
Ravishing from me?
_Cla_. Thats not it, but cause
I would not tempt my destinie: thy sight
Would inflame marble, much more me whose heart
Is prompt enough to fly into thy breast
And leave mine empty. But 'tmust not remaine
In that lone habitation, least a curse,
A fearefull one, sease on mee.
_Thu_. Can there be
Curses more horrid, incident to earth
For its past Sinns, then would depend on you
For such a bold presumption as your breatch
Of faith would be.
_Cla_. Our tyrant fate has found
Yet uninvented torments to expresse
Our loyall soules. O, _Thurston_, thou wert never
--Not when our mutuall freindships might have taught
The constant turtles amity--more deare
To me then now. I could, as well as then,
Peruse love's dictats in thy amorous cheeks,
Enioy the pressure of thy modest lipp;
But Ime enioynd by powerfull menaces
T'infring my wonted use and to disclaime
My vowes to thee.
_Thu_. If this be possible,
What will become of earth? men will no more
Respect Society or strive to save
Humanity alive: henceforth theyle seeke
For lost fidelity on Caves or topps
Of untrodd Rocks, and plight their trothes to beasts;
Commix with them and generate a race
Of creatures, though less rationall, yet more
Indude with truth. O _Clariana_, can
There be a motive able to convert
This pretious Christall temple, built for purity
And goodnes adoration, to a faine
For Idoll falshoods worship? But I cannot
Labour my wandring Judgment to beleife
Thou speakst thy meaning. If I have not lovd
With that essential perfectnes thy worth
That man could doe, in charity declare
My Ignorant defect, and Ile amend it
With more then zealous industry.
_Cla_. Tis vaine:
You may as easily penetrate the cloudes
With a soft whisper, as my eares, then which
Noe thunders deafer. _Thurston_, tis not cause
I have in the intemperate heate of blood
Given up my soule to a new choyce, that breeds
This soddaine mutability: I will
Preserve my affection as inviolate to you
As Anchorites their vowes, and in my grave
Interr my virgin glory. Teares will not
Permitt more conference: fare you well; Ile keepe
My passion up till I have none to weepe. [_Exit_.
_Thu_. Shees gon! What vapor which the flattring sunn
Exhales to heaven as to create a starr,
Yet throwst, a fading meteor, to the earth,
Has falne like me? Divinity, that tells
Us there are soules in women, Ile no more
Credit thy dubious _Theorems_ nor thinke
Thy lawes astring us to preserve our faith.
Let the nice Casuists, that dispute each clause
Belongs to conscience with a[l]ternate sense,
Dispense with breach of promise and prescribe
Equivocacons to evade all oathes
Without offending, or shees damnd.
_Enter Lovell_.
_Lov_. Well, Companion, at my friends Intreatie I am content to be
reconsyld; but have a care, goe to, ha, oh ho, youle[104] ... more; why,
goe to then ... pledge the companion ... heeres to thee: what, what!
_Thu_. Heres one perchance will satisfie me.
Sir, your habit speaks yer understanding:
Please you resolve me one thing which disturbes
The quiet of my conscience.
_Lov_. Revenge may slumber but can never sleep:
He that lets slip an Injury thats done
Takes the next course to draw a greater on.
_Thu_. You counsell well. I pray, in all the volumes
Your learning has perusd, did you ere find
Any conclusion that allowd it lawfull
To breake an oath?
_Lov_. If she neglect and throw[105] disgrace on thee,
Fly't thou as much and be thy scorne as free.
_Thu_. An Oracle speakes in him; but, pray, tell me
Ist lawfull then to breake an oath?
_Lov_. Though time prolongs, we cannot style it sloath:
My vowes are firme; hees damd that breaks an oath.
_Thu_. Good, good, agen: but the oath I treat on,
Is of another kind: tis to a woman.
_Lov_. It could not be her fault; there's a mistake in't.
_Thu_. None o'my life, theres none.
_Lov_. Let me see, let me see:
No, twas not hers, twas _Grimeses_ knavery.
_Thu_. Ha, whether did wild fancy lead my apprehension.
He minds me not but is in disputation
With his owne thoughts.
_Lov_. Wilt thou pledge me ii cuppes? Why, goe to and goe to, then.
Ha to thee, ha, sirra _Grimes_!
--When man gainst man conspire to doe evill,
For what Society is a fitt!
_Thu_. The Devill. [_Claps him on the shoulder_.
_Lov_. Oh helpe, helpe![106] [_Exit_.
_Enter Lady_.
_Lady_. I hope, sir,
Noe occasion offerd in my house
Breedes your distast; I should be sorry if
It be soe, and conceald from me.
_Thu_. Your goodnes
Is to nice ore me; Ime exceeding well;
Only some erring cogitations
Trouble my braine a little.
_Lady_. Tis much pitty
Distraction should have roome in you; I would
Not for the love you beare my daughter, have you
Be discont[ent]ed here.
_Thu_. And your daughter
Repayes me kindly fort.
_Lady_. Surely her breeding
Affords her better manners then to iniure
A gent[leman] of your deservings?
_Thu_. Alas, she has not:
Twas but an unkindness triviall
Mong freinds not worth the nameing.
_Lady_. It was to much
Wert but an ill looke. If I may so far,
Without immodesty, entreat the knowledge
Of what it was Ile chide her for't. Pray, sir,--
We women are bold suitors; by your looke
It is no meane perplexity her folly
Has cast upon your temper,--pray, disclose it;
And ift be anything the obedience
She owes to me may countermand, she shall
Repent her error.
_Thu_. Your humanity
Would wrest a secret from me, though my life
Consisted ith concealment: she has abolishd
Her protestations to me, murdred vowes
Which like the blood of Innocents will pull
Cloudes of black vengeance on her, for no cause
I can imagine but her humor; banishd
Me her society and sight for ever.[107]
_Lady_. Tis above wonder: could I as well rule
Her will as her exterior actions,
She should not thus reject you; but I cannot
Limitt her mind, compell her to affect
Against her liking. If perswations may
Reduse her, Ile endevour it.
_Thu_. Twilbe needles;
I am resolvd to meet her in revolt,
Hug infidelity with as strong a faith
As she can possible; and if mans mallice
Can passe a womans, my dispight shall winne
Preheminence. I will inquire out one
By nature framd in scorne of bewty, and
In your perfidious daughters presence give her
That heart which she reiected.
_Lady_. Twere pitty
Your passion should undoe you; you may find
Matches of noble quality: my daughter
In worth's inferior to you, yet I doubt not
But my perswasive oratorie may gaine you
Her forfeited affection.
_Thu_. Let her reserve it
For them who sue to inioy it; Ile conferr
My fancy on a Negro new reclaim'd
From prostitution; sacrifice my youth
To bedridd age, ere reinthrall my heart
To her insulting bewty.
_Lady_. Twould be a maime to your discretion
To abjure a certaine and a pleasing good
For an uncertaine harme you would impose
In malice on another. Yo'are a man
In whome the glorious soule of goodnes moves
With such a spacious posture that no woman,
But such a squemish baby as my daughter,
Would be most fortunate to enrich their choyse
With one so much deserving.
_Thu_. He experience
Your affirmation: could you love me?
_Lady_. What
I spoake was a contingent supposition
What others might doe, but not argument
I meant to love you.
_Thu_. But I know you will;
I see a pleasing augury in your looks
Presages mercy; and those eyes, whose lustre
The light (that scornes privation) cannot equall,
Darts beames of comfort on me.
_Lady_. Twould be rare
Could you perswade me to't, I can find
No such propension in my selfe; beware
Least in this wildnes you ingage your heart
To one cannot accept it.
_Thun_. Pish!
Ime sure you will: humanity forbids
Refusall of my affection, which shall be
As constant as insep[a]rable heate
To elementall fire.--I'me soddaine, lady,
In my resolve, but firme as fate.
_Lady_. Surely,
You are not well.
_Thu_. You are deceivd; I am
Exceeding well yett; all my faculties
Retaine their wonted motion; but Ime like
A new recoverd patient, whose relapse
Admitts no helpe of phisick: in your love
Consists my hope, futurity of health;
And you have too much charity to suffer
Perdition overwhelme me.
_Lady_. Your confidence
Workes much uppon my lenity; but twould
Occasion scandall; every one would judge
I did supplant my daughter, should I yeild
To your desines.
_Thu_. Let the censorious world
Fright those with harelipd Calumnie whose guilt
Merritts detraction; your pure innocence
No feind dares vitiatt.
_Lady_. You have prevaild.
_Thu_. Ile take you at your word, a holy kisse
Shall seale the contract. [_kisse_.
Avaunt! stand of! she has poysond me, her lips
Are sault as sulpher, and her breath infects,
Noe scorpions like it.
_Lady_. What ayles you, Sir?
_Thu_. Ha, ha, ha!
Those who imagine such prodigious mischiefes
Should be more cunning then to be ore reacht
By puisne[108] cosnage; Have you no more judgement
Then to beleive I lov'd you.
_Lady_. Doe you not love me then?
_Thu_. Can a man
Robd of a Jewell deare to him as breath
Affect the theife, O murdresse?--for that title
Best suites thy impious quality, since thy curse,
Thy cruell curse, imposd uppon my love,
Has massacred two of the faithfulst hearts
Affection ere united. Though your lust
Desir'd smooth youth to sate it, piety
Might have reclamd you for attempting me,
Your daughter's interest.--Ile not rayle
Cause tis unman[ner]ly,[109] untill you find
What 'tis to cause true lovers prove unkind.
[_Exit_.
_Enter Alexan_.
_Lady_. Was I a sleepe? What transitory dreame
Deceivd my sense? did I not here my love
Protest affection? no, it was some feind
Vested in his mortallity, whome hell
Sent to abuse my weaknes.
_Lov_. She has bin sure tormented with that furie which cla[pt] me on my
shoulder. She talkes of Hell, love and affection. Ha, goe to and goe to!
the old Knight my Mrs. Goast, I hope does not haunt the house.
_Lady_. Twas he, Ime certaine on't; I felt his lips,
And they were flesh; they breath'd on mine a warmth
Temperate as westerne kisses which the morne
Weaps liquid drops to purchase. This confirmes
It was no apparition that contemnd
My willingnes, but he, his reall selfe,
Mockt my integrity: he must not passe soe,
To blase abroad my infamy.
_Lov_. Madam, feare nothing, be not troubled; the Goast meant no harme
to you, uppon my life he did not; Goe to and goe to, I say and I sayt,
he did not. He did appeare to me--your love, your husband, my old
Mr.--here, clapt me on the shoulder, as his old custome was still when
he usd to talke with me familiarly.
_Lady_. But, Sirrah, what familiarity
Have you with any of my privasies?
Sausie groome, practise your ancient duty.
_Enter Young Mar_.
_Y. M_. What meanes this fury, Madam?
_Lady_. O, deare boy,
What haplesse fate exposd thee to the veiw
Of this [sic] sad mothers sorrowes? but I charge thee,
As thou respects thy duty, not to question
The cause of my distemper; my iust feares
Prohibits thee the knowledge of it.
_Lov_. Why, Sir, she has seene the Divell.
_Lady_. Ha!
_Lov_. Nay, Madam, I have don; they say the Divell has no power ore a
Drunkard; once more Ile run the hazard.
_Y. M_. Whoe, what is he? speake,
For heavens sake, speake: were he defensd with clouds
Or circled with unsteadfast boggs, my rage
Should cut a passage to him.
_Lady_. Thou strait will grow
More passionate then I: goe to your chamber,
Ile but dispatch these gentlemen.
[_Exit Mar_.
_Enter Sir Geffery, Crackby, [Suc]ett [and Bun]ch.
_Sir Gef_. O here she is.--Lady, I and my Nephew, being your good
neighbors and of the worshipfull, I of the Country, he of the Cittie,
have long desird a match with your daughters, but they are coy, so
childish, so unmannerly; I know not how to terme them: they dispise who
worship offers them, they may[110] hereafter doe worse and have worse,
madam.
_Crac_. My uncle tells your ladiship the truth:
We are noe peasants[111] or unhonorable
To be affronted with indignities.
_Suc_. Here are men that has seene service.
_Bunch_. At a mustring or ith Artillery[112] garden.
_Lady_. 'Twas past my pleasure, good Sir _Geffery_, you have had such
harch entertainement from them: henceforth Ile lay my charge upon them
to be more tractable.--Mr. _Alexander_, goe call my daughters hither.
_Lov_. She turnes againe.--I shall with all celerity wish them to
approach. [_Exit_.
_Sir Gef_. Certainly, Madam, I can see no cause
Wherefore at first you might not, without putting
My Knighthood to this trouble, have matched with me
Your selfe; it had been somewhat fitter.
_Enter Belisea and Clariana_.
_Bel_. Are these fooles here?
_Lady_. Minions you might have expresd more kindnes
In your behaviour to these Gent[lemen]
Whom my strict caire provided for your husbands.
_Bel_. I hope they cannot blame us, we have usd them
With that respect our modesties allowd.
_Lady_. Your peevish nicenes settle your affections
To a more fayre demeaner towards their worth,
Or you shall seeke a Mother and a portion.
_Crac_. Nay, if you take away their portions, Ile
Meddle no further with them.
_Lady_. You both heare
My not to be revoaked intention
Respect this knight and his nephew in the way
Of marriage, or I shall take another order with you.
[_Exit_.
_Cla_. Was it you, good knight of the ill favord Countenance,
Who procurd us these loving admonitions?
_Sir Gef_. Nay, and you begin agen, Ile call your Ladie Mother.
_Suc_. I do protest unto you, beauteous Lady,
You do not cast a favorable aspect.
_Bel_. I am no Plannet.
_Crac_. Captaine, you doe me palpable affront:
She is the election of my understanding.
_Sir Geff_. Retort not so abstrusly.--Will you disdain
The good of honour, condiscend to me
And youthfull write me, lady, in your stile,
And to each thread of thy sun-daseling h[air]
Ile hang a pearle as orient as the gemmes
The eastern Queenes doe boast of. When thou walk[st],
The country lasses, crownd with gorgeous flo[w]res,
Shall fill each path and dance their rural jigs
In honour of this bewty.
_Cla_. Hey day, where did you borrow this? Sir, youle beg[one]: I feele
the fitt a coming; I shall rayle instantly.
_Crac_. Baffeld before my Mrs? Death to fame! Captaine, good Captaine.
_Suc_. Pish, I doe but drill her
For you, friend; you shall have her, say your Captaine
Sayes it, whose words doe ventilate destruction
To all who do oppugn what they designe.