Part 21

_Leo._ By heaven she is cork, and clouds, light, light Sir, vapor But I shall find her out, with all her witchcrafts, Her paintings, and her powncings: for 'tis art And only art preserves her, and meer spels That work upon his powers; let her but shew me A ruin'd cheek like mine, that holds his colour And writes but sixteen years in spight of sorrows An unbathed body, smiles, that give but shaddows, And wrinkle not the face; besides she is little, A demy dame, that makes no object.

_Theo._ Nay. Then I must say you err; for credit me I think she is taller than your self.

_Leoc._ Why let her It is not that shall mate me; I but ask My hands may reach unto her.

_Theo._ Gentle Lady 'Tis now ill time of farther argument, For I perceive your anger voyd of counsel, Which I could wish more temperate.

_Leoc._ Pray forgive me If I have spoken uncivilly: they that look on See more than we that play: and I beseech ye Impute it loves offence, not mine; whose torments, If you have ever lov'd, and found my crosses You must confess are seldom ty'd to patience, Yet I could wish I had said less.

_Theo._ No harm then; Ye have made a full amends; our company You may command, so please you in your travels With all our faith and furtherance; let it be so.

_Leoc._ Ye make too great an offer.

_Theo._ Then it shall be. Go in and rest your self, our wholsome dyet Will be made ready straight: But heark ye Lady One thing I must entreat, your leave, and sufferance That these things may be open to my Brother For more respect and honor.

_Leoc._ Do your pleasure.

_Theo._ And do not change this habit by no means Unless ye change your self.

_Leoc._ Which must not yet be.

_Theo._ It carries ye concealed and safe.

_Leoc._ I am counsell'd. [_Exit._

_Enter_ Philippo.

_Phil._ What's done?

_Theo._ Why all we doubted; 'tis a woman, And of a noble strain too, ghess.

_Phil._ I cannot.

_Theo._ You have heard often of her.

_Phil._ Stay I think not.

_Theo._ Indeed ye have; 'tis the fair _Leocadia_ Daughter unto Don _Zanchio_, our noble neighbor.

_Phil._ Nay?

_Theo._ 'Tis she Sir, o' my credit.

_Phil. Leocadia_, Pish _Leocadia_, it must not be.

_Theo._ It must be, or be nothing.

_Phil._ Pray give me leave to wonder, _Leocadia_?

_Theo._ The very same.

_Phil._ The Damsel _Leocadia_ I ghest it was a woman, and a fair one I see it through her shape, transparent plain But that it should be she; tell me directly.

_Theo._ By heavens 'tis she.

_Phil._ By heaven then 'tis a sweet one.

_Theo._ That's granted too.

_Phil._ But heark ye, heark ye Sister, How came she thus disguis'd?

_Theo._ I'll tell you that too As I came on the self-same ground, so us'd too.

_Phil._ By the same man?

_Theo._ The same too.

_Phil._ As I live You lovers have fine fancies, Wonderous fine ones.

_Theo._ Pray heaven you never make one.

_Phil._ Faith I know not, But in that mind I am, I had rather cobble, 'Tis a more Christian Trade; pray tell me one thing Are not you two now monstrous jealous Of one another?

_Theo._ She is much of me And has rayl'd at me most unmercifully And to my face, and o' my conscience Had she but known me, either she or I Or both, had parted with strange faces She was in such a fury.

_Phil. Leocadia?_ Do's she speak handsomly?

_Theo._ Wondrous well Sir And all she do's becomes her, even her anger.

_Phil._ How seemed she when you found her?

_Theo._ Had you seen How sweetly fearful her pretty self Betray'd her self, how neat her sorrow show'd, And in what handsome phrase she put her story, And as occasion stirr'd her how she started Though roughly, yet most aptly into anger You would have wonder'd.

_Phil._ Do's she know ye?

_Theo._ No, Nor must not by no means.

_Phil._ How stands your difference?

_Theo._ I'll tell ye that some fitter time, but trust me My _Mark-antonio_ has too much to answer.

_Phil._ May I take knowledge of her?

_Theo._ Yes she is willing.

_Phil._ Pray use her as she is, with all respects then, For she is a woman of a noble breeding.

_Theo._ Ye shall not find me wanting.

_Phil._ Which way bears she?

_Theo._ Our way, and to our end.

_Phil._ I am glad on't; hark ye, She keeps her shape? [_Enter_ Leocadia.

_Theo._ Yes, and I think by this time Has mew'd her old.

_Phil._ She is here: by heaven a rare one, An admirable sweet one, what an eye Of what a full command she bears, how gracious All her aspect shows; bless me from a feaver I am not well o'th suddain.

_Leoc._ Noble friends Your meat and all my service waits upon ye.

_Phil._ Ye teach us manners Lady; all which service Must now be mine to you, and all too poor too; Blush not, we know ye, for by all our faiths With us your honor is in sanctuary And ever shall be.

_Leoc._ I do well believe it, Will ye walk nearer Sir. [_Exit._

_Theo._ She shows still fairer, Yonger in every change, and clearer, neater; I know not, I may fool my self, and finely Nourish a wolfe to eat my heart out; certain As she appears now, she appears a wonder, A thing amazes me; what would she do then In womans helps, in ornaments apt for her And deckings to her delicacy? without all doubt She would be held a miracle; nor can I think He has forsaken her: Say what she please, I know his curious eye, or say he had, Put case he could be so boy-blind and foolish, Yet stil I fear she keeps the Contract with her Not stoln as she affirms, nor lost by negligence, She would loose her self first, 'tis her life, and there All my hopes are dispatch'd; O noble love That thou couldst be without this jealousie, Without this passion of the heart, how heavenly Wouldst thou appear unto us? Come what may come I'll see the end on't: and since chance has cast her Naked into my refuge, all I can She freely shall command, except the man. [_Exit._

_Scæna Tertia_.

_Enter_ Leonardo, _and_ Don Pedro.

_Leon._ Don _Pedro_ do you think assuredly The Galleys will come round to _Barcelona_ Within these two days?

_Ped._ Without doubt.

_Leo._ And think ye He will be with 'em certainly?

_Ped._ He is sir I saw him at their setting off.

_Leo._ Must they needs Touch there for water as you say?

_Ped._ They must sir And for fresh meat too, few or none go by it. Beside so great a Fleet must needs want trimming If they have met with fowl seas, and no harbor On this side _Spain_, is able without danger To moore 'em, but that haven.

_Leo._ Are the wars His only end?

_Ped._ So he professes.

_Leo._ Bears he Any command amongst 'em?

_Ped._ Good regard With all; which quickly will prefer him.

_Leo._ Pray Sir tell me, And as you are a Gentleman be liberal.

_Ped._ I will Sir, and most true.

_Leo._ Who saw ye with him?

_Ped._ None but things like himself; young Souldiers And Gentlemen desirous to seek honor.

_Leo._ Was there no woman there, nor none disguis'd That might be thought a woman in his language? Did he not let slip something of suspition Touching that wanton way.

_Ped._ Believe me Sir I neither saw, nor could suspect that face That might be doubted womans, yet I am sure Aboard him I see all that past, and 'tis impossible Among so many high set bloods there should be A woman, let her close her self within a cockle, But they would open her, he must not love Within that place alone, and therefore surely He would not be so foolish had he any, To trust her there; for his discourse, 'twas ever About his business, war, or mirth to make us Relish a Can of Wine well; when he spoke private 'Twas only the remembrance of his service, And hope of your good prayers for his health Sir, And so I gave him to the seas.

_Leo._ I thank ye, And now am satisfied, and to prevent Suspitions that may nourish dangers Signior, For I have told you how the mad _Alphonso_ Chafes like a Stag i'th toyl, and bends his fury 'Gainst all but his own ignorance; I am determin'd For peace sake and the preservation Of my yet untoucht honor, and his cure My self to seek him there, and bring him back As testimony of an unsought injury By either of our actions; That the world, And he if he have reason, may see plainly Opinion is no perfect guide; nor all fames Founders of truths: In the mean time this courtesie I must intreat of you Sir, Be my self here And as my self command my family.

_Ped._ Ye lay too much trust on me.

_Leo._ 'Tis my love Sir, I will not be long from ye; if this question Chance to be call'd upon ere my return I leave your care to answer; so Farewell Sir.

_Ped._ Ye take a wise way; All my best endeavors Shall labor in your absence; peace go with ye. [_Exit Le[o]._ A noble honest Gentleman, free hearted And of an open faith, much loving, and much loved, And father of that goodness only malice Can truly stir against, what dare befall Till his return I'll answer. [_Exit Ped._

_Enter_ Alphonso, _and Servant_.

_Alph._ Walk off Sirrah, But keep your self within my call.

_Serv._ I will Sir.

_Alph._ And stir my horse for taking cold: within there, Hoa people; you that dwell there my brave Signior What are ye all a sleep? is't that time with ye? I'll ring a little lowder.

_Enter_ Pedro.

_Ped._ Sir who seek ye?

_Alph._ Not you Sir; Where's your Master?

_Ped._ I serve no man In way of pay Sir.

_Alph._ Where's the man o'th house then?

_Ped._ What would you have with him Sir?

_Alph._ Do you stand here Sir To ask men questions when they come?

_Ped._ I would sir Being his friend, and hearing such alarmes Know how men come to visit him.

_Alph._ Ye shall Sir, Pray tell his mightiness here is a Gentleman By name _Alphonso_, would intreat his conference About affairs of State Sir, are ye answer'd?

_Enter_ Sanchio _carried_.

_Ped._ I must be Sir.

_Sanch._ Stay, set me down, stay Signior, You must stay, and ye shall stay.

_Alph._ Meaning me Sir?

_Sanch._ Yes you Sir, you I mean, I mean you.

_Alph._ Well Sir. Why should I stay?

_Sanch._ There's reason.

_Alph._ Reason Sir?

_Sanch._ I reason Sir My wrong is greatest, and I will be served first, Call out the man of fame!

_Alph._ How serv'd Sir?

_Sanch._ Thus sir.

_Alph._ But not before me.

_Sanch._ Before all the world sir As my case stands.

_Alph._ I have lost a daughter sir.

_Sanch._ I have lost another worth five score of her sir.

_Alph._ Ye must not tell me so.

_San[c]h._ I have, and heark ye? Make it up five score more: Call out the fellow, And stand you by sir.

_Ped._ This is the mad morriss.

_Alph._ And I stand by?

_Sanch._ I say stand by, and do it.

_Alph._ Stand by among thy lungs.

_Sanch._ Tu[r]n presently And say thy prayers, thou art dead.

_Alph._ I scorn thee And scorn to say my prayers more than thou do'st, Mine is the most wrong, and my daughter dearest And mine shall first be righted.

_Sanch._ Shall be righted.

_Ped._ A third may live I see, pray hear me Gentlemen.

_Sanch._ Shall be.

_Alph._ I, shall be righted.

_Sanch._ Now?

_Alph._ Now.

_Sanch._ Instantly.

_Alph._ Before I stir.

_Sanch._ Before me.

_Alph._ Before any.

_Sanch._ Dost thou consider what thou say'st? hast thou friends here Able to quench my anger, or perswade me After I have beaten thee into one main bruist And made thee spend thy state in rotten apples, Thou canst at length be quiet, shall I kill thee Divide thee like a rotten Pumpion, And leave thee stincking to posterity, There's not the least blow I shall give; but do's this Urge me no farther: I am first.

_Alph._ I'll hang first. No goodman glory, 'tis not your bravado's, Your punctual honor, nor soldadoship.

_Sanch._ Set me a little nearer.

_Alph._ Let him sally. [Lin'd] with your quircks of carriage and discretion Can blow me off my purpose. Where's your credit With all your school points now? your decent arguing And apt time for performing: where are these toys, These wise ways, and most honorable courses, To take revenge? how dar'st thou talk of killing, Or think of drawing any thing but squirts When letchery has dry found[e]d thee?

_Sanch._ Neerer yet, That I may spit him down: thou look'st like a man.

_Ped._ I would be thought so Sir.

_Sanch._ Prethee do but take me, And fling me upon that Puppy.

_Alph._ Do for heavens sake, And see but how I'll hug him.

_San[c]h._ Yet take warning.

_Ped._ Faith Gentlemen, this is a needless quarrel.

_Sanch._ And do you desire to make one?

_Ped._ As a friend Sir, To tell you all this anger is but lost Sir, For _Leonardo_ is from home.

_Alph._ No, no Sir.

_Ped._ Indeed he is.

_Sanch._ Where dare he be, but here Sir, When men are wrong'd, and come for satisfactions.

_Ped._ It seems he has done none Sir; for his business Clear of those cares, hath carried him for sometime To _Barcelona_: if he had been guilty, I know he would have stayd, and clear'd all difference Either by free confession, or his sword.

_Sanch._ This must not be.

_Ped._ Sure as I live, it is Sir.

_Alph._ Sure, as we all live, He's run away for ever: _Barcelona_! Why? 'tis the key for _Italy_, from whence He stole first hither.

_Sanch._ And having found his knaveries Too gross to be forgiven, and too open, He has found the same way back again: I believe too The good grass Gentleman, for his own ease, Has taken one o'th' Fillyes: Is not his stuff sold.

_Alph._ I fear his worships shoos too; to escape us, I do not think he has a dish within doors, A louse left of his linnage.

_Ped._ Ye are too wide Sir.

_Alph._ Or one poor wooden spoon.

_Ped._ Come in and see Sir.

_Alph._ I'll see his house on fire first.

_Ped._ Then be pleased Sir To give better censure.

_Sanch._ I will after him, And search him like conceal'd land, but I'll have him, And though I find him in his shrift, I'll kill him.

_Alph._ I'll bear ye company.

_Sanch._ Pray have a care then, A most [especiall] care, indeed a fear, Ye do not anger me.

_Alph._ I will observe ye, And if I light upon him handsomly.

_Sanch._ Kill but a piece of him, leave some _Alphonso_ For your poor Friends.

_Ped._ I fear him not for all this.

_Alph._ Shall we first go home, For it may prove a voyage, and dispose Of things there; heaven knows what may follow.

_Sanch._ No, I'll kill him in this shirt I have on: let things Govern themselves, I am master of my honor At this time, and no more; let wife, and land, Lie lay till I return.

_Alph._ I say amen to't: But what care for our monies?

_Sanch._ I will not spend Above three shillings, till his head be here, Four is too great a sum for all his Fortunes. Come take me up instantly.

_Alph._ Farewell to you Sir, And if your friend be in a featherbed, Sow'd up to shrowd his fears, tell him 'tis folly, For no course but his voluntary hanging Can get our pardons. [_Exeunt._

_Ped._ These I think would be Offence enough, if their own indiscretions Would suffer 'em: two of the old seditious, When they want enemies, they are their own foes: Were they a little wiser, I should doubt 'em: Till when I'll ne'r break sleep, nor suffer hunger For any harm he shall receive: for 'tis as easie If he be guilty, to turn these two old men Upon their own throats, and look on, and live still, As 'tis to tell five pound: a great deal sooner, And so I'll to my meat, and then to hawking. [_Exit._

_Actus Quartus. Scæna Prima._

_Enter_ Mark-antonio, _and a Gentleman_.

_Marc._ Sir, this is complement; I pray you leave me.

_Gent._ Sir, it is not.

_Marc._ Why? I would only see the Town.

_Gent._ And only that I come to shew you.

_Marc._ Which I can see without you.

_Gent._ So you may Plainly, not safely: For such difference As you have seen betwixt the sea and earth When waves rise high, and land would beat 'em back As fearful of Invasion; such we find When we land here at _Barcelona_.

_Marc._ Sir.

_Gent._ Besides our General of the Galleys, fearing Your hasty nature, charg'd me not return Without you safe.

_Marc._ O Sir, that _Roderigo_ Is noble, and do's mistake my temper. There is not in the world, a mind less apt To conceive wrongs, or do 'em; has he seen me In all this voyage, in the which he pleases.

_En[t]er_ Eugenia, _with divers Attendants_.

To call me friend, let slip a hasty word? S'light Sir: yonder is a Lady va[il]d, For properness beyond comparison, And sure her face is like the rest: we'll see't.

_Gent._ Why? you are hasty Sir already: know you What 'tis you go about.

_Marc._ Yes, I would see The womans face.

_Gent._ By heaven you shall not do't: You do not know the custom of the place: To draw that curtain here, though she were mean, Is mortall.

_Marc._ Is it? earth must come to earth At last, and by my troth, I'll try it Sir.

_Gent._ Then I must hold you fast. By all the faith That can be plac'd in man, 'tis an attempt More dangerous than death, 'tis death and shame: I know the Lady well.

_Marc._ Is she a Lady? I shall the more desire to see her Sir.

_Gent._ She is _Alanso_'s wife, the Governor, A noble Gentleman.

_Marc._ Then let me go, If I can win her, you and I will govern This Town Sir, fear it not, and we will alter These barbarous customs then; for every Lady Shall be seen daily, and seen over too.

_Gent._ Come, do not jest, nor let your passions bear you To such wild enterprises: hold you still, For as I have a soul, you shall not do't. She is a Lady of unblemish'd fame, And here to offer that affront, were base: Hold on your way, and we will see the Town, And overlook the Ladies.

_Marc._ I am school'd, And promise you I will: but good Sir, see, She will pass by us now; I hope I may Salute her thus far off.

_Gent._ 'S foot, are you mad? 'Twill be as ill as th' other.

_1 Attend._ What's the matter? What would that fellow have?

_Gent._ Good Sir forbear.

_1. Atten._ It seems you are new landed: would you beg Any thing here?

_Marc._ Yes Sir, all happiness To that fair Lady, as I hope.

_Gent. Mark-antonio._

_Marc._ Her face, which needs no hiding: I would beg A sight of.

_Gent._ Now go on, for 'tis too late To keep this from a tumult.

_1. Attend._ Sirrah, you Shall see a fitter object for your eyes, Then a fair Ladies face.

_Eug._ For heavens sake, raise not A quarrel in the streets for me.

_1. Attend._ Slip in then; This is your door.

_Eug._ Will you needs quarrel then?

_1. Attend._ We must, or suffer This outrage: is't not all your minds Sirs, speak?

_All._ Yes.

_Eug._ Then I do beseech ye, let my Lord

_Enter three or four Souldiers._

Not think the quarrel about me; for 'tis not. [_Exit._

_Gent._ See happily some of our Galley souldiers Are come ashoar.

_1. Attend._ Come on Sir, you shall see Faces enough.

_Gent._ Some one of you call to

_Enter certain Townsmen._

Our General, the whole rore of the Town Comes in upon us.

_Marc._ I have seen Sir better Perhaps, than that was cover'd; and will yet

_Enter_ Philippo, Theodosia, _and_ Leocadia.

See that, or spoil yours.

_Phil._ On, why start you back?

_Theo._ Alass Sir, they are fighting.

_Leoc._ Let's begon, See, see, a handsome man strook down.

_Gent._ Ho General, Look out, _Antonio_ is in distress.

_Enter_ Rodorigo _above_.

_Theo. Antonio._

_Leoc. Antonio!_ 'tis he.

_Rod. within._ Ho, Gunner make a shot into the Town, I'll part you: bring away _Antonio_ [_a shot._ Into my Cabben. [_Exit Attendants and Townsmen._

_Gent._ I will do that office. I fear it is the last, that I shall do him.

[_Exit Souldiers and Gentlemen with_ Marckantonio.

_Theo._ The last, why will he dye?

_Leoc._ Since I have found him: happiness leave me, When I leave him.

_Phil._ Why _Theodosia_? My sister; wake: alass, I griev'd but now To see the streets so full; and now I grieve To see them left so empty: I could wish, Tumult himself were here, that yet at least Amongst the band, I might espie some face So pale and fearful, that would willingly Embrace an arrand for a Cordial, Or _Aquavitæ_, or a cup of sack, Or a Physitian: but to talk of these She breaths: stand up, O _Theodosia_, Speak but as thou wert wont, give but a sigh, Which is but the most unhappy piece of life, And I will ever after worship sadness, Apply my self to grief; prepare and build Altars to sorrow.

_Theo._ O _Philippo_, help me.

_Phil._ I do; these are my arms, _Philippo_'s arms, Thy Brothers arms that hold thee up.

_Theo._ You help me To life: but I would see _Antonio_ That's dead.

_Phil._ Thou shalt see any thing; how dost thou?

_Theo._ Better, I thank you.

_Phil._ Why that's well: call up Thy senses, and uncloud thy cover'd spirits. How now?

_Theo._ Recover'd: but _Antonio_, Where is he?

_Phil._ We will find him: art thou well?

_Theo._ Perfectly well, saving the miss of him; And I do charge you here, by our allyance, And by the love which would have been betwixt us, Knew we no kindred; by that killing fear, Mingled with twenty thousand hopes and doubts, Which you may think, plac'd in a Lovers heart, And in a Virgins too, when she wants help, To grant me your assistance, to find out This man alive, or dead; and I will pay you In service, tears, or prayers, a world of wealth: But other treasure, I have none: alas! You men have strong hearts; but we feeble maids Have tender eyes, which only given be To blind themselves, crying for what they see.

_Phil._ Why do'st thou charge me thus? have I been found Slow to perform, what I could but imagine Thy wishes were; have I at any time Tender'd a business of mine own, beyond A vanity of thine? have I not been As if I were a sensless creature, made To serve thee without pow'r of questioning, If so, why fear'st thou?

_Theo._ I am satisfied.

_Phil._ Come; then let's go: where's _Leocadia_?

_Theo._ I know not Sir.

_Phil._ Where's _Leocadia_?

_Theo._ I do not know.

_Phil. Leocadia_, This Tumult made the streets as dead as night, A man may talk as freely: what's become Of _Leocadia_?