Part 27

_Lucio._ But such a melancholly hangs on his mind, And in his eyes inhabit such sad shadowes; But what the cause is----

_Pand._ Go tell him we are here Boy, There must be no cause now.

_Jul._ Hast thou forgot me?

_Lucio._ No noblest Lady.

_Jul._ Tell him I am here, Tell him his wife is here, sound my name to him, And thou shalt see him start; speak _Juliana_, And like the Sun that labors through a tempest, How suddainly he will disperse his sadness!

_Pand._ Go I command thee instantly, And charge him on his duty.

_Jul._ On his love Boy: I would fain go to him.

_Pand._ Away, away, you are foolish.

_Jul._ Bear all my service sweet Boy.

_Pand._ Art thou here still?

_Jul._ And tell him what thou wilt that shall become thee.

_Pand._ I'th' house, and know we are here. [_Ex. Boy._

_Jul._ No, no, he did not; I warrant you he did not: could you think His love had less than wings, had he but seen me; His strong affection any thing but fire Consuming all weak lets and rubs before it, Till he had met my flame, and made one body? If ever heavens high blessings met in one man, And there erected to their holy uses A sacred mind fit for their services, Built all of polisht honor, 'twas in this man: Misdoubt him not.

_Pand._ I know he's truely noble; But why this sadness, when the general cause Requires a Jubile of joy?

_Jul._ I know not. [_Enter_ Virolet _and Boy._

_Pand._ Pray heaven you find it not.

_Jul._ I hope I shall not: O here he comes, and with him all my happiness; He stays and thinks, we may be too unmannerly; Pray give him leave. [_they stand off._

_Pand._ I do not like this sadness.

_Vir._ O hard condition of my misery! Unheard of plagues! when to behold that woman, That chast and virtuous woman, that preserv'd me, That pious wife, wedded to my afflictions, Must be more terrible than all my dangers. O fortune, thou hast rob'd me of my making, The noble building of a man, demolisht, And flung me headlong, on a sin so base Man and mankind contemn; even beasts abhor it, A sin more dull than drink, a shame beyond it; So foul, and far from faith; I dare not name it, But it will cry it self out, loud ingratitude. Your blessing Sir.

_Pand._ You have it in abundance; So is our joy, to see you safe.

_Vir._ My Dear one!

_Jul._ H'as not forgot me yet: O take me to you Sir.

_Vir._ Must this be added to increase my misery, That she must weep for joy, and loose that goodness? My _Juliana_, even the best of women, Of wives the perfectest, let me speak this, And with a modesty declare thy vertues, Chaster than Chrystal, on the _Scythian_ Clifts The more the proud winds Court, the more the purer. Sweeter in thy obedience than a Sacrifice; And in thy mind a Saint, that even yet living, Producest miracles, and women daily, With crooked and lame souls creep to thy goodness, Which having toucht at, they become examples. The fortitude of all their sex, is Fable Compar'd to thine; and they that fill'd up glory, And admiration, in the age behind us, Out of their celebrated urns, are started, To stare upon the greatness of thy spirit; Wondring what new Martyr heaven has begot, To fill the times with truth, and ease their stories: Being all these, and excellent in beauty, (For noble things dwell in the noblest buildings) Thou hast undone thy husband, made him wretched, A miserable man, my _Juliana_, Thou hast made thy _Virolet_.

_Jul._ Now goodness keep me; Oh! my dear Lord.

_Pand._ She wrong you? what's the meaning? Weep not, but speak, I charge you on obedience; Your Father charges you, she make you miserable? That you your self confess.

_Vir._ I do, that kils me; And far less I have spoke her than her merit.

_Jul._ It is some sin of weakness, or of Ignorance? For sure my Will----

_Vir._ No, 'tis a sin of excellence: Forgive me heaven, that I prophane thy blessings: Sit still; I'll shew you all. [_Exit Virolet._

_Pand._ What means this madness? For sure there is no tast of right man in it; Grieves he our liberty, our preservation? Or has the greatness of the deed he has done, Made him forget, for whom, and how he did it, And looking down upon us, scorn the benefit? Well _Virolet_, if thou beest proud, or treacherous.

_Jul._ He cannot Sir, he cannot; he will shew us, And with that reason ground his words.

_Enter_ Virolet, Martia, Ronvere.

_Pand._ He comes. What Masque is this? what admirable beauty? Pray heaven his heart be true.

_Jul._ A goodly woman.

_Vir._ Tell me my dear; and tell me without flattery, As you are nobly honest, speak the truth; What think you of this Lady?

_Jul._ She is most excellent.

_Vir._ Might not this beauty tell me it's a sweet one, Without more setting off, as now it is, Thanking no greater Mistress than meer nature, Stagger a constant heart?

_Pand._ She is full of wonder; But yet; yet _Virolet_.

_Vir._ Pray by your leave Sir!

_Jul._ She would amaze.

_Vir._ O! would she so? I thank you; Say to this beauty, she have all additions, Wealth, noble birth.

_Pand._ O hold there.

_Vir._ All virtues, A mind as full of candor as the truth is, I, and a loving Lady.

_Jul._ She must needs (I am bound in conscience to confess) deserve much.

_Vir._ Nay, say beyond all these, she be so pious, That even on slaves condemn'd she showre her benefits, And melt their stubborn Bolts with her soft pitty, What think you then?

_Pand._ For such a noble office, At these years, I should dote my self; take heed boy.

_Jul._ If you be he, that have receiv'd these blessings, And this the Lady: love her, honor her; You cannot do too much, to shew your gratitude, Your greatest service will shew off too slender.

_Vir._ This is the Lady; Lady of that bounty, That wealth, that noble name, that all I spoke of: The Prince _Ascanio_ and my self, the slaves Redeem'd, brought home, still guarded by her goodness, And of our liberties you tast the sweetness; Even you she has preserv'd too, lengthen'd your lives.

_Jul._ And what reward do you purpose? it must be a main one If love will do it we'll all, so love her, serve her.

_Vir._ It must be my love.

_Jul._ Ha!

_Vir._ Mine, my only love, My everlasting love!

_Pand._ How?

_Vir._ Pray have patience. The recompence she ask'd, and I have render'd, Was to become her husband: then I vowed it, And since I have made it good.

_Pand._ Thou durst not.

_Vir._ Done Sir.

_Jul._ Be what you please, his happiness yet stays with me, You have been mine; oh my unhappy fortune.

_Pand._ Nay, break and dye.

_Jul._ It cannot yet: I must live, Till I see this man, blest in his new love, And then----

_Pand._ What hast thou done? thou base one tell me, Thou barren thing of honesty, and honor; What hast thou wrought? Is not this she, look on her, Look on her, with the eyes of gratitude, And wipe thy false tears off; Is not this she, That three times on the Rack, to guard thy safety, When thou stood'st lost, and naked to the Tyrant; Thy aged Father here, that shames to know thee, Ingag'd i'th' jaws of danger; was not this she, That then gave up her body to the torture? That tender body, that the wind sings through; And three times, when her sinews, crack'd and tortur'd, The beauties of her body turn'd to ruines; Even then, within her patient heart, she lock'd thee; Then hid thee from the Tyrant, then preserv'd thee, And canst thou be that slave?

_Martia._ This was but duty, She did it for her Husband, and she ought it; She has had the pleasure of him, many an hour, And if one minutes pain cannot be suffer'd; Mine was above all these, a nobler venter, I speak it boldly, for I lost a Father. He has one still, I left my friends, he has many; Expos'd my life, and honor to a cruelty, That if it had seiz'd on me, racks and tortures, Alas, they are Triumphs to it: and had it hit, For this mans love, it should have shewed a triumph, Twise lost, I freed him; _Rossana_ lost before him, His fortunes with him; and his friends behind him: Twise was I rack'd my self for his deliverance, In honor first and name, which was a torture The hang-man never heard of; next at Sea, In our escape, where the proud waves took pleasure To toss my little Boat up like a bubble, Then like a meteor in the ayr he hung, Then catch'd and flung him in the depth of darkness; The Cannon from my incensed Fathers Ship, Ringing our Knell, and still as we peep'd upward, Beating the raging surge, with fire and Bullet, And I stood fixt for this mans sake, and scorn'd it; Compare but this.

_Vir._ 'Tis too true; O my fortune! That I must equally be bound to either.

_Jul._ You have the better and the nobler Lady, And now I am forc'd, a lover of her goodness. And so far have you wrought for his deliverance, That is my Lord, so lovingly and nobly, That now methinks I stagger in my Title. But how with honesty? for I am a poor Lady, In all my dutious service but your shadow, Yet would be just; how with fair fame and credit, I may go off; I would not be a strumpet: O my dear Sir, you know:

_Vir._ O truth, thou knowest too.

_Jul._ Nor have the world suspect, I fell to mischief.

_Law._ Take you no care for that, here's that has done it, A fair divorce, 'tis honest too.

_Pand._ The devil, Honest? to put her off?

_Law._ Most honest Sir, And in this point most strong.

_Pand._ The cause, the cause Sir?

_Law._ A just cause too.

_Pand._ As any is in hell, _Lawyer_.

_Law._ For barrenness, she never brought him children.

_Pand._ Why art thou not divorc'd? thou canst not get 'em, Thy neighbors, thy rank neighbors: O base jugling, Is she not young?

_Jul._ Women at more years Sir, Have met that blessing; 'tis in heavens high power.

_Law._ You never can have any.

_Pand._ Why quick Lawyer? My Philosophical Lawyer.

_Law._ The Rack has spoil'd her The distentions of those parts, hath stopt all fruitfulness.

_Pand._ O I could curse.

_Jul._ And am I grown so miserable, That mine own pitty must make me wretched? No cause against me, but my love and duty? Farewell Sir, like obedience, thus I leave you, My long farewell: I do not grudge, I grive Sir, And if that be offensive, I can dye, And then you are fairly free: good Lady love him; You have a noble, and an honest Gentleman, I ever found him so, the world has spoke him, And let it be your part still to deserve him: Love him no less than I have done, and serve him, And heaven shall bless you; you shall bless my ashes; I give you up the house, the name of wife, Honor, and all respect I borrowed from him, And to my grave I turn: one farewell more, Nothing divide your Loves, not want of Children, Which I shall pray against, and make you fruitful; Grow like two equal flames, rise high and glorious, And in your honor'd age burn out together: To all I know, farewell.

_Ronver._ Be not so griev'd Lady, A nobler fortune.

_Jul._ Away thou parasite. Disturb not my sad thoughts, I hate thy greatness.

_Ron._ I hate not you, I am glad she's off these hinges, Come, let's pursue. [_Ex. Ronvere and Law._

_Pand._ If I had breath to curse thee, Or could my great heart utter, farewell villain, Thy house, nor face agen. [_Exit Pand._

_Mar._ Let 'em all go. And now let us rejoyce, now freely take me, And now embrace me _Virolet_, give the rites Of a brave Husband to his love.

_Vir._ I'll take my leave too.

_Mar._ How take your leave too?

_Vir._ The house is furnish'd for you, You are Mistress, may command.

_Mar._ Will you to bed Sir?

_Vir._ As soon to hell, to any thing I hate most; You must excuse me, I have kept my word. You are my Wife, you now enjoy my fortune. Which I have done to recompence your bounty: But to yield up those chast delights and pleasures, Which are not mine, but my first vowes.

_Mar._ You jeast.

_Vir._ You will not find it so, to give you those I have divorc'd, and lost with _Juliana_, And all fires of that nature--

_Mar._ Are you a Husband?

_Vir._ To question hers, and satisfie your flames, That held an equal beauty, equal bounty-- Good heaven forgive; no, no, the strict forbearance, Of all those joys, like a full sacrifice, I offer to the sufferings of my first love, Honor, and wealth, attendance, state, all duty, Shall wait upon your will, to make you happy, But my afflicted mind, you must give leave Lady, My weary Trunk must wander.

_Mart._ Not enjoy me? Go from me too?

_Vir._ For ever thus I leave you; And how so e're I fare, live you still happy. [_Exit Virol._

_Mar._ Since I am scorn'd, I'll hate thee, scorn thy gifts too, Thou miserable fool, thou fool to pitty, And such a rude, demolisht thing, I'll leave thee, In my revenge: for foolish love, farewell now, And anger, and the spite of woman enter, That all the world shall say, that read this story, My hate, and not my love, begot my glory. [_Exit Martia._

_Actus Quartus. Scæna Prima._

_Enter Sess. Boatswaine, Master, Gunner._

_Sess._ He that fears death, or tortures, let him leave me. The stops that we have met with, Crown our Conquest. Common attempts are fit for common men; The rare, the rarest spirits. Can we be daunted? We that have smil'd at Sea at certain ruines, Which men on shore but hazarded would shake at: We that have liv'd free, in despite of fortune, Laught at the out-stretch'd Arm of Tyranny, As still too short to reach us, shall we faint now? No my brave mates, I know your fiery temper, And that you can, and dare, as much as men: Calamity, that severs worldly friendships, Could ne'r divide us, you are still the same; The constant followers of my banisht fortunes; The Instruments of my revenge; the hands By which I work, and fashion all my projects.

_Mast._ And such we will be ever.

_Gun._ 'Slight Sir, Cramme me Into a Cannons mouth, and shoot me at Proud _Ferrand's_ head: may only he fall with me, My life I rate at nothing.

_Boatsw._ Could I but get, Within my swords length of him; and if then He scape me, may th' account of all his sins Be added unto mine.

_Mast._ 'Tis not to dye Sir, But to dye unreveng'd, that staggers me: For were your ends serv'd, and our Countrey free, We would fall willing sacrifices.

_Sess._ To rise up, Most glorious Martyrs.

_Boats._ But the reason why We wear these shapes?

_Sess._ Only to get access: Like honest men, we never shall approach him, Such are his fears, but thus attir'd like _Switzers_, And fashioning our language to our habits; Bold, bloody, desperate, we may be admitted Among his guard. But if this fail I'll try A thousand others, out-do _Proteus_ In various shapes, but I will reach his heart, And seal my anger on't.

_Enter_ Ronvere _and the Guard._

_Mast._ The Lord _Ronvere_.

_Boats._ Shall we begin with him?

_Sess._ He is not ripe yet, Nor fit to fall: as you see me begin, With all care Imitate.

_Gun._ We are instructed.

_Boats._ Would we were at it once.

_Ron._ Keep a strict watch, And let the guards be doubled, this last night The King had fearful dreams.

_Sess._ 'Tis a good _Omen_ To our attempts.

_Ron._ What men are these? what seek you?

_Sess._ Imployment.

_Ron._ Of what nature?

_Sess._ We are Soldiers; We have seen Towns and Churches set on fire; The Kennels runing blood, Coy virgins ravish'd; The Altars ransack'd, and the holy reliques, Yea, and the Saints themselves, made lawful spoyls, Unto the Conquerors: but these good days are past, And we made Beggars, by this idle peace, For want of action. I am Sir no stranger To the Gover[n]ment of this state, I know the King Needs men, that only do what he commands, And search no farther: 'tis the profession Of all our Nation, to serve faithfully, Where th' are best payed: and if you entertain us, I do not know the thing you can command, Which we'll not put in act.

_Ron._ A goodly Personage.

_Mast._ And if you have an Enemy, or so That you would have dispatch'd.

_Gun._ They are here, can fit you.

_Boats._ Or if there be an Itch, though to a man.

_Sess._ You shall tye Our consciences in your purse strings.

_Ron._ Gentlemen, I like your freedome: I am now in hast, But wait for my return. I like the Rascals, They may be useful.

_Sess._ We'll attend you Sir.

_Ron._ Do, and be confident of entertainment; I hope you will deserve it. [_Exit Ron. and Guard._

_Sess._ O, no doubt Sir: Thus far we are prosperous; we'll be his guard; Till Tyranny and pride find full reward. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Pandulfo, _and_ Juliana.

_Pand._ My blessing? no; a Fathers heavy curse, Pursue, and overtake him.

_Jul._ Gentle Sir.

_Pand._ My name, and Family, end in my self Rather then live in him.

_Jul._ Dear Sir forbear, A fathers curses, hit far off, and kill too, And like a murthering piece ayms not at one, But all that stand within the dangerous level. Some bullet may return upon your self too, Though against nature, if you still go on In this unnatural course.

_Pand._ Thou art not made Of that same stuff as other women are: Thy injuries would teach patience to blaspheme, Yet still thou art a Dove.

_Jul._ I know not malice, but like an innocent, suffer.

_Pand._ More miraculous! I'll have a woman Chronicled, and for goodness, Which is the greatest wonder. Let me see, I have no Son to inherit after me; Him I disclaim. What then? I'll make thy vertues my sole heir; Thy story I'll have written, and in Gold too; In prose and verse, and by the ablest doers: A word or two of a kind step-father I'll have put in, good Kings and Queens shall buy it. And if the actions of ill great women, And of the modern times too, are remembred, That have undone their husbands and their families, What will our story do? It shall be so, And I will streight about it. [_Exit Pand._

_Enter Boy._

_Jul._ Such as love Goodness for glory, have it for reward; I love mine for it self: let innocence Be written on my Tomb, though ne're so humble, 'Tis all I am ambitious of. But I Forget my vows.

_Boy._ 'Fore me you are not modest, Nor is this Courtlike. Would you take it well, If she should rudely press into your Closet, When from your several Boxes you choose paint, To make a this days face with?

_Jul._ What's the matter?

_Boy._ Pray know her pleasure first.

_Jul._ To whom speak you Boy?

_Boy._ Your Ladiships pardon. That proud Lady thief, That stole away my Lord from your embraces, (Wrinckles at two and twenty on her cheeks for't, Or _Mercury_ unallayed, make blisters on it) Would force a visit.

_Jul._ And dare you deny her, Or any else that I call mine? No more, Attend her with all reverence and respect; The want in you of manners, my Lord may Construe in me for malice. I will teach you How to esteem and love the beauty he dotes on; Prepare a Banquet.

_Enter_ Martia _and Boy._

Madam, thus my duty Stoops to the favor you vouchsafe your servant, In honouring her house.

_Mart._ Is this in scorn?

_Jul._ No by the life of _Virolet_: give me leave To swear by him, as by a Saint I worship, But am to know no farther, my heart speaks that My servants have been rude, and this boy (doting Upon my sorrows) hath forgot his duty: In which, that you may think I have no share, Sirra, upon your knees, desire her pardon.

_Boy._ I dare not disobey you.

_Mart._ Prethee rise, My anger never looks so low: I thank you. And will deserve it, if we may be private, I came to see and speak with you.

_Jul._ Be gone. [_Exit Boy._ Good Madam sit.

_Mart._ I rob you of your place then.

_Jul._ You have deserv'd a better, in my bed; Make use of this too: Now your pleasure Lady. If in your breast there be a worthy pitty, That brings you for my comfort, you do nobly: But if you come to triumph in your conquest, Or tread on my calamities, 'twill wrong Your other excellencies. Let it suffice, That you alone enjoy the best of men, And that I am forsaken.

_Mart._ He the best? The scum and shame of mankind.

_Jul. Virolet_, Lady?

_Mart._ Blest in him? I would my youth had chosen Consuming feavers, bed-rid age For my companions, rather then a thing To lay whose baseness open, would even poyson The tongue that speaks it.

_Jul._ Certainly from you At no part he deserves this; and I tell you, Durst I pretend but the least title to him, I should not hear this.

_Mart._ He's an impudent villain, Or a malicious wretch: to you ungrateful; To me beyond expression barbarous. I more then hate him; from you he deserves A death most horrid: from me, to dye for ever, And know no end of torments. Would you have comfort? Would you wash off the stain that sticks upon you, In being refus'd? Would you redeem your fame, Shipwrack'd in his base wrongs? if you desire this, It is not to be done with slavish suffering, But by a Noble anger, making way To a most brave revenge, we may call justice; Our injuries are equal; joyn with me then, And share the honor.

_Jul._ I scarce understand you, And know I shall be most unapt to learn To hate the man I still must love and honor.

_Mar._ This foolish dotage in soft-hearted women, Makes proud men insolent: but take your way, I'll run another course.

_Jul._ As you are noble, Deliver his offence.

_Mart._ He has denied The rites due to a wife.

_Jul._ O me most happy, How largely am I payd for all my sufferings! Most honest _Virolet_, thou just performer Of all thy promises: I call to mind now, When I was happy in those joys you speak of, In a chast bed, and warranted by Law too, He oft would swear, that if he should survive me, (Which then I knew he wisht not) never woman Should tast of his embraces; this one act Makes me again his debtor.

_Mart._ And was this The cause my youth and beauty were contemn'd? If I sit down here! wel----