sure,

Enter BEAUMELLE.

Re-enter BELLAPERT.

I had forgot to tell your ladyship,

The closet is private, and your couch there ready;

And, if you please that I shall lose the key, But say so, and 'tis done. Beaumel. You come to chide me, servant, and [Exit. bring with you Sufficient warrant. You will My father found too much obedience in me, and truly, say, By being won too soon; yet, if you please But to remember, all my hopes and fortunes Had reference to his liking, you will grant, That though I did not well towards you, I yet Did wisely for myself.

Nov. jun. With too much fervour

past

I have so long loved, and still love you, mistress, To esteem that an injury to me, Which was to you convenient; that is My help, is past my cure. You yet may, lady, In recompence of all my duteous service, (Provided that your will answer your power) Become my creditress.

Beaumel. I understand you;

And for assurance the request you make
Shall not be long unanswered, pray you sit;
And by what you shall hear, you'll easily find
My passions are much fitter to desire,
Than to be sued to.

Enter ROMONT and FLORIMEL behind.

Flor. Sir, it is not envy

At the start my fellow has got of me in
My lady's good opinion, that is the motive
Of this discovery; but the due payment

10

Of what I owe her honour. Rom. So I conceive it.

[MASSINGER

Flor. I have observed too much, nor shall my
silence

Prevent the remedy:-yonder they are;
I dare not be seen with you. You may do
What you think fit, which will be, I presume,
The office of a faithful and tried friend
To my young lord.
[Exit FLORIMEL.

Rom. This is no vision: Ha!
Nov. jun. With the next opportunity?
Beaumel. By this kiss, and this, and this.
Nov. jun. That you would ever swear thus !
Rom. [Comes forward.] If I seem rude, your
pardon, lady;-yours

I do not ask: Come, do not dare to shew me
A face of anger, or the least dislike;
I shall grow rough else.
Put on, and suddenly, a milder look;

Nov. jun. What have I done, sir,

To draw this harsh unsavoury language from you?
Rom. Done, popinjay! Why, dost thou think
that, if

I e'er had dream't that thou hadst done me wrong,
Thou shouldst outlive it?

Beaumel. This is something more
Than my lord's friendship gives commission for.
Nov. jun. Your presence and the place make
him presume
Upon my patience.

Rom. As if thou e'er wert angry

Can bring more to the making up of a man,
But with thy taylor! and yet that poor shred
Than can be hoped from thee: Thou art his crea-
ture,

Thou'dst stink and be forgotten. I will not
And, did he not each morning new create thee,

change

One syllable more with thee, until thou bring
Some testimony, under good men's hands,
Thou art a Christian: I suspect thee strongly,
And will be satisfied; 'till which time, keep
from me.-

The entertainment of your visitation
Has made what I intended one a business.
Nov. jun. So we shall meet-Madam!

Rom. Use that leg again, and I'll cut off the

other.

Nov. jun. Very good.

[Exit Nov.

Rom. What a perfume the muskcat leaves be

hind him!

Beaumel. What, you will not beat

me,

Rom. My intents,

To be the whetstone of your wit: preserve it
To spend on such as know how to admire
Such coloured stuff. In me there now speaks
to you

As true a friend and servant to your honour,
And one that will with as much hazard guard it,
As ever man did goodness. But then, lady,
You must endeavour not alone to be,
But to appear, worthy such love and service.
Beaumel. To what tends this?
Rom. Why, to this purpose, lady.
I do desire you should prove such a wife
To Charalois (and such a one he merits)
As Cæsar, did he live, could not except at;
Not only innocent from crime, but free
From all taint and suspicion.

Beaumel. They are base that judge me otherwise.

Rom. But yet be careful:
Detraction's a bold monster, and fears not
To wound the fame of princes, if it find
But any blemish in their lives to work on.
But I'll be plainer with you: had the people
Been learnt to speak but what even now I saw,
Their malice out of that would raise an engine
To overthrow your honour. In my sight,
With yonder painted fool I frighted from you,
You used familiarity beyond

A modest entertainment: you embraced him
With too much ardour for a stranger, and
Met him with kisses neither chaste nor comely.
But learn you to forget him, as I will
Your bounties to him; you will find it safer
Rather to be uncourtly than immodest.

Beaumel. This pretty rag about your neck
shews well,

And, being coarse and little worth, it speaks you As terrible as thrifty.

Rom. Madam!

Beaumel. Yes:

And this strong belt, in which you hang your ho

nour,

Will outlast twenty scarfs.

Rom. What mean you, lady?

You are angry with me, and poor I laugh at it.
Do you come from the camp, which affords only
The conversation of cast suburb whores,
To set down to a lady of my rank
Limits of entertainment?

Rom. Sure a legion has possest this woman!
Beaumel. One stamp more would do well: yet
I desire not

You should grow horn-mad till you have a wife. You are come to warm meat, and perhaps clean linen;

Feed, wear it, and be thankful. For me, know,
That though a thousand watches were set on me,
And you the master-spy, I yet would use
The liberty that best likes me. I will revel,
Feast, kiss, embrace, perhaps grant larger fa-

vours;

Yet such as live upon my means shall know
They must not murmur at it. If my lord
Be now grown yellow, and has chose out you
To serve his jealousy this way, tell him this:
You have something to inform him.

[Exit BEAUMELLE.

Rom. And I will; Believe it, wicked one, I will. Hear, heaven, But, hearing, pardon me; if these fruits grow Upon the tree of marriage, let me shun it, As a forbidden sweet. An heir and rich, Young, beautiful, yet add to this—a wife, And I will rather chuse a spittle sinner, Carted an age before, though three parts rotten, And take it for a blessing, rather than Be fettered to the hellish slavery Of such an impudence.

Enter BEAUMONT with writings. Beaum. Colonel, good fortune

To meet you thus! you look sad, but I'll tell you Something that shall remove it. O how happy Is my lord Charalois in his fair bride!

Rom. A happy man indeed!-pray you, in what?

Beaum. I dare swear, you would think so good a lady

Had stolen into the person of Romont,

And, in the praise of good-wife honesty,

Had read an homily.

Rom. By this hand

Beaumel. And sword;

Rom. No doubt. But on.

Beaum. So fair, so chaste, so virtuous, so

Rom. I must do something worthy Charalois friendship.

If she were well inclined, to keep her so Deserved not thanks; and yet, to stay a woman,

How if I break this to him? Sure it cannot Meet with an ill construction. His wisdom, Made powerful by the authority of a father, Will warrant and give privilege to his counsels. It shall be so my lord!

Roch. Your friend, Romont: Would you aught with me?

Rom. I stand so engaged

To your so many favours, that I hold it

A breach in thankfulness, should I not discover,
Though with some imputation to myself,
All doubts that may concern you.
Roch. The performance

Will make this protestation worth my thanks. Rom. Then, with your patience, lend me your attention;

For what I must deliver, whispered only,
You will with too much grief receive.

Enter BEAUMELLE and BELLAPERT, behind.
Beaumel. See, wench!

Upon my life, as I forespake, he's now Preferring his complaint; but be thou perfect, And we will fit him.

Bella. Fear not me, pox on him!

A captain turned informer against kissing;
Would he were hanged up in his rusty armour!-
But, if our fresh wits cannot turn the plots
Of such a mouldy murrion on itself,

Rich clothes, choice fare, and a true friend at a call,

With all the pleasures the night yields, forsake us! Roch. This in my daughter! Do not wrong

her.

Bella. Now begin :

The game's afoot, and we in distance.

Beaumel. [Comes forward.] 'Tis thy fault, foolish girl! pin on my veil,

I will not wear those jewels. Am I not
Already matched beyond my hopes? Yet still
You prune and set me forth, as if I were
Again to please a suitor.

Bella. 'Tis the course
That our great ladies take.

Beaumel. A weak excuse!

Those that are better seen in what concerns
A lady's honour and fair fame, condemn it.
You wait well! in your absence, my lord's friend,
The understanding, grave, and wise Romont-
Rom. Must I be still her sport!
Beaumel. Reproved me for it;

[Aside.

And he has travelled to bring home a judgment,
Not to be contradicted. You will say
My father, that owes more to years than he,
Has brought me up to music, language, court-
ship,

And I must use them: True but not to offend,
Or render me suspected.

Roch. Does your fine story begin from this? Beaumel. I thought a parting kiss

From young Novall would have displeased no

more

Than heretofore it hath done; but I find
I must restrain such favours now: look, therefore,
As you are careful to continue mine,
That I no more be visited. I'll endure
The strictest course of life that jealousy
Can think secure enough, ere my behaviour
Shall call my fame in question.

Rom. Ten dissemblers

Are in this subtle devil!-You believe this?
Roch. So far, that if you trouble me again
With a report like this, I shall not only
Judge you malicious in your disposition,
But study to repent what I have done
To such a nature.

Rom. Why, 'tis exceeding well.

Roch. And for you, daughter, off with this, off with it!

I have that confidence in your goodness, I,
That I will not consent to have you live
Like to a recluse in a cloister: Go,

Call in the gallants, let them make you merry
Use all fit liberty.

Bella. Blessing upon you!

If this new preacher, with the sword and feather,
Could prove his doctrine for canonical,
We should have a fine world. [Exit BELLAPERT
Roch. Sir, if you please

To bear yourself as fits a gentleman,
The house is at your service; but, if not,
Though you seek company elsewhere, your ab-

sence

Will not be much lamented. [Exit ROCHFORT.
Rom. If this be

The recompense of striving to preserve
A wanton giglet honest, very shortly
'Twill make all mankind panders.-Do you smile,
Good lady looseness? Your whole sex is like you,
And that man's mad that seeks to better any:
What new change have you next?

Beaumel. Oh, fear not you, sir!
I'll shift into a thousand, but I will
Convert your heresy.

Rom. What heresy? speak!

Beaumel. Of keeping a lady that is married, From entertaining servants.

Enter NOVALL jun. MALOTIN, LILADAM, AYMER, and PONTALIER.

That you, which are an honest man and worthy,
Should foster this suspicion: No man laughs,
No one can whisper, but thou apprehendest
His conference and his scorn reflect on thee:
For my part, they should scoff their thin wits out,
So I not heard them; beat me, not being there.
Leave, leave these fits to conscious men, to such
As are obnoxious to those foolish things
As they can gibe at.

Rom. Well, sir.

Char. Thou art known

Valiant without defect, rightly defined,
Which is as fearing to do injury,

As tender to endure it; not a brabbler,
A swearer-

Rom, Pish, pish! what needs this, my lord?
If I be known none such, how vainly you
Do cast away good counsel! I have loved you,
And yet must freely speak; so young a tutor
Fits not so old a soldier as I am:
And I must tell you, 'twas in your behalf
I grew enraged thus; yet had rather die
Than open the great cause a syllable further.
Char. In my behalf? Wherein hath Charalois
Unfitly so demeaned himself, to give
The least occasion to the loosest tongue

To throw aspersions on him? Or so weakly
Protected his own honour, as it should
Need a defence from any but himself?
They're fools that judge me by my outward seem-
ing.

Why should my gentleness beget abuse?
The lion is not angry that does sleep,
Nor every man a coward that can weep.
For God's sake, speak the cause.

Rom. Not for the world.

Oh! it will strike disease into your bones,
Beyond the cure of physick; drink
your blood,
Rob you of all your rest, contract your sight,
Leave you no eyes but to see misery,
And of your own; nor speech, but to wish thus,
Would I had perished in the prison's jaws,
From whence I was redeemed! 'Twill wear you old,
Before you have experience in that art
That causes your affliction.

Char. Thou dost strike

A deathful coldness to my heart's high heat,
And shrink'st my liver like the calenture.
Declare this foe of mine and life's, that like
A man I may encounter and subdue it.
It shall not have one such effect in me
As thou denouncest: With a soldier's arm,
If it be strength, I'll meet it;

If a fault belonging to my mind, I'll cut it off
With mine own reason, as a scholar should.
Speak, though it make me monstrous,

Rom. I will die first.

Farewell! continue merry, and high heaven
Keep your wife chaste!

Char. Hum!-Stay, and take this wolf
Out of my breast, that thou hast lodged there, or
For ever lose me.

Rom. Lose not, sir, yourself, And I will venture-so, the door is fast. [Locks the door.

Now, noble Charalois, collect yourself,
Summon your spirits, muster all your strength
That can belong to man; sift passion
From every vein, and, whatsoe'er ensues,
Upbraid not me hereafter, as the cause of
Jealousy, discontent, slaughter and ruin:
Make me not parent to sin.-You will know
This secret that I burn with?

Char. Devil on't,
What should it be! Romont, I heard you wish
My wife's continuance of chastity.

Rom. There was no hurt in that.
Char. Why, do you know

A likelihood, or possibility, unto the contrary?
Rom. I know it not, but doubt it; these the

Glewed, as if love had locked them; their words flow

And melt each other's, like two circling flames,
Where chastity, like a phoenix, methought, burned,
But left the world nor ashes nor an heir.-
Why stand you silent thus? What cold dull
phlegm,

As if you had no drop of choler mixed
In your whole constitution, thus prevails,
To fix you now thus stupid, hearing this?

Char. You did not see him on my couch within, Like George a-horseback, on her, nor a-bed? Rom. No.

pect,

On such thin airy circumstance as this;

Mere compliment and courtship. Was this tale
The hideous monster which you so concealed?
Away, thou curious impertinent,

And idle searcher of such lean, nice, toys!
Go, thou seditious sower of debate!
Fly to such matches, where the bridegroom doubts
He holds not worth enough to countervail
The virtue and the beauty of his wife!

Thou buzzing drone, that 'bout my ears dost hum,

To strike thy rankling sting into my heart,
Whose venom, time nor medicine could assuage,
Thus do I put thee off, and, confident
In mine own innocency and desert,
Dare not conceive her so unreasonable,
To put Novall in balance against me;
An upstart, craned up to the height he has.
Hence, busy body! thou'rt no friend to me,
That must be kept to a wife's injury.

Rom. Is't possible?-Farewell, fine honest man!
Sweet-tempered lord, adieu! What apoplexy
Hath knit sense up? Is this Romont's reward?
Bear witness, the great spirit of thy father,
With what a healthful hope I did administer
This potion, that hath wrought so virulently!
I not accuse thy wife of act, but would
Prevent her precipice to thy dishonour,

|

Which now thy tardy sluggishness will admit.
Would I had seen thee graved with thy great sire,
Ere live to have men's marginal fingers point
At Charalois, as a lamented story!
An emperor put away his wife for touching
Another man; but thou wouldst have thine
tasted,

And keep her, I think.-Phoh! I am a fire
To warm a dead man, that waste out myself.
Bleed-What a plague, a vengeance, is't to me,
If you will be a cuckold? Here I shew
A sword's point to thee, this side you may shun,
Or that, the peril; if you will run on,
I cannot help it.

Char. Didst thou never see me
Angry, Romont?

Rom. Yes, and pursue a foe Like lightning.

Char. Prithee, see me so no more.

I can be so again.-Put up thy sword:
And take thyself away, lest I draw mine.
Rom. Come, fright your foes with this, sir; I
am your friend,
And dare stand by you thus.

Char. Thou'rt not my friend;

Or being so, thou'rt mad; I must not buy
Thy friendship at this rate. Had I just cause,
Thou know'st I durst pursue such injury
Through fire, air, water, earth, nay, were they

all

Shuffled again to chaos; but there's none.
Thy skill, Romont, consists in camps, not courts.
Farewell, uncivil man! let's meet no more:
Here our long web of friendship I untwist.
Shall I go whine, walk pale, and lock my wife,
For nothing, from her birth's free liberty,
That opened mine to me? Yes; if I do,
The name of cuckold then dog me with scorn!
I am a Frenchman, no Italian born. [Erit.

Rom. A dull Dutch rather :-Fall and cool, my

blood!

Boil not in zeal of thy friend's hurt so high, That is so low, and cold himself in it! woman, How strong art thou! how easily beguiled! How thou dost rack us by the very horns! Now wealth, I see, change manners and the

man.

Something I must do, mine own wrath to assuage, And note my friendship to an after-age. [Erit.

SCENE I.-A Room in NOVALL'S House.

NOVALL junior discovered seated before a look ing-glass, with a Barber and Perfumer dressing his hair, while a Tailor adjusts a new suit which he wears. LILADAM, AYMER, and Page attending.