Enter LEON, MARGARITA, and ALTEA, with a taper.
Leon. Is the fool come?

Altea. Yes, and i' th' cellar fast,

And there he stays his good hour till I call him ; He will make dainty music 'mong the sack-buts. I've put him just, sir, under the duke's chamber. Leon. It is the better.

Altea. He has giv'n me royally,

And to my lady a whole load of portigues.

Leon. Better and better still.-Go, Margarita, Now play your prize :-You say you dare be honest; I'll put you to your best.

Marg. Secure yourself, sir;

Give me the candle; pass away in silence.

[Exeunt LEON and ALTEA. MARG, knocks. Duke. [Within.] Who's there? Oh, oh! Marg. My lord!

Duke. [Within.] Have you brought me comfort? Marg. I have, my lord:

Come forth; 'tis I. Come gently out; I'll help

You are not well, I know by your flying fancy; Your body's ill at ease; your wounds

Duke. I've none;

I am as lusty, and as full of health,
High in my blood-

Marg. Weak in your blood, you would say. How wretched is my case, willing to please you, And find you so disable!

Duke. Believe me, lady

Marg. I know, you'll venture all you have to satisfy me,

Your life I know; but is it fit I spoil you?
Is it, my love, do you think?

Cac. [Below.] Here's to the duke!
Duke. It nam'd me certainly;

I heard it plainly sound.

Marg. You are hurt mortally,

And fitter for your prayers, sir, than pleasure. What starts you make! I would not kiss you

wantonly,

You are a wicked man, and sure this haunts you: 'Would you were out o' th' house!

Duke. I would I were,

O' that condition I had leap'd a window.

Marg. And that's the least leap, if you mean to 'scape, sir.

Why, what a frantic man were you to come here, What a weak man to counterfeit deep wounds, To wound another deeper!

Duke. Are you honest then?

Marg. Yes, then, and now, and ever; and excellent honest,

And exercise this pastime but to shew you,
Great men are fools sometimes as well as wretches:
'Would you were well hurt, with any hope of life,
Cut to the brains, or run clean through the body,
To get out quietly as you got in, sir!

I wish it like a friend that loves you dearly;
For if my husband take you, and take you thus
A counterfeit, one that would clip his credit,
Out of his honour he must kill you presently;
There is no mercy, nor an hour of pity:
And for me to entreat in such an agony,
Would shew me little better than one guilty.
Have you any mind to a lady now?
Duke. 'Would I were off fair!

shake

If ever lady caught me in a trap more—
Marg. If you be well and lusty-fie, fie;
not!
You say you love me; come, come bravely now;
Despise all danger; I am ready for you.

Duke. She mocks my misery: Thou cruel lady! Marg. Thou cruel lord! wouldst thou betray my honesty,

Betray it in mine own house, wrong my husband, Like a night thief, thou dar'st not name by day. light?

Duke. I am most miserable.
Marg. You are indeed;

And, like a foolish thing, you have made yourself

SO.

Could not your own discretion tell you, sir,
When I was married I was none of yours?
Your eyes were then commanded to look off me,
And I now stand in a circle and secure ;
Your spells nor power can never reach my body.
Mark me but this, and then, sir, be most miser-
'Tis sacrilege to violate a wedlock,
[able;
You rob two temples, make yourself twice guilty,
You ruin hers, and spot her noble husband's.
Duke. Let me be gone. I'll never more attempt

And all those dear delights you worshipp'd here. Duke. The noise again! [Noise below.

Cac. [Below.] Some small beer, if you love me.
Marg. The devil haunts you sure; your sins
are mighty;

A drunken devil too, to plague your villainy.
Duke. Preserve me but this once!
Marg. There's a deep well

In the next yard, if you dare venture drowning:
It is but death.

Duke. I would not die so wretchedly.
Marg. Out of a garret-window I will let you
down then;

But say the rope be rotten? 'tis huge high too.
Duke. Have you no mercy?

Marg. Now you are frighted thoroughly,
And find what 'tis to play the fool in folly,
And see with clear eyes your detested vice,
I'll be your guard.

Duke. And I'll be your true servant, Ever from this hour virtuously to love you, Chastely and modestly to look upon you, And here I seal it.

Marg. I may kiss a stranger,

For you must now be so.

Enter LEON, JUAN, ALONZO, and SANCHIO. Leon. How do you, my lord?

Methinks you look but poorly on this matter. Has my wife wounded you? you were well before. 'Pray, sir, be comforted; I have forgot all, Truly forgiven too.-Wife, you are a right one, And now with unknown nations I dare trust you. Juan. No more feign'd fights, my lord; they never prosper.

Enter ALTEA and CACAFOGo, drunk.

Leon. Who's this? the devil in the vault?
Altea. 'Tis he, sir,

And as lovingly drunk, as though he had studied it.
Cac. Give me a cup of sack, and kiss me, lady!
Kiss my sweet face, and make thy husband cuck-
old!-

An ocean of sweet sack !-Shall we speak treason? Leon. He's devilish drunk.

Duke. I had thought he had been a devil; He made as many noises, and as horrible. Leon. Oh, a true lover, sir, will lament loudly.— Which of the butts is your mistress?

Cac. Butt in thy belly!

Leon. There's two in thine I'm sure, 'tis grown Cac. Butt in thy face! [so monstrous.

Leon. Go, carry him to sleep.

A fool's love should be drunk; he has paid well for't too.

When he is sober, let him out to rail,

Or hang himself; there will be no loss of him. [Exeunt CACAFOGO and Servant.

Enter PEREZ and ESTIFANIA.

Leon. Who's this? my Mahound cousin? Perez. Good, sir; 'tis very good! 'Would I'd a house, too!

(For there's no talking in the open air)
My Termagant coz. I would be bold to tell you,
I durst be merry too; I tell you plainly,
You have a pretty seat, you have the luck on't,
A pretty lady too; I have miss'd both :
My carpenter built in a mist, I thank him!
Do me the courtesy to let me see it,
See it but once more. But I shall cry for anger!
I'll hire a chandler's shop close under you,
And, for my foollery, sell soap and whip-cord.
Nay, if you do not laugh now, and laugh heartily,
You are a fool, coz.

Leon. I must laugh a little,

And now I've done.-Coz, thou shalt live with

me,

My merry coz; the world shall not divorce us.
Thou art a valiant man, and thou shalt never want.
Will this content thee?

Perez. I'll cry, and then I'll be thankful,
Indeed I will, and I'll be honest to you:
I'd live a swallow here, I must confess.-
Wife, I forgive thee all, if thou be honest;
At thy peril, I believe thee excellent.

Estif. If I prove otherwise, let me beg first.
Leon. Hold, this is yours; some recompense
for service:
[Gives money to ESTIF.

Use it to nobler ends than he that gave it.

Duke. And this is yours, your true commission, sir.

Now you are a captain.

[TO LEON.

[Kisses her.

Leon. You're a noble prince, sir; And now a soldier, gentlemen.

Omnes. We all rejoice in't.

Juan. Sir, I shall wait upon you through all Alon. And I. [fortunes.

Altea. And I must needs attend my mistress. Leon. Will you go, sister?

Altea. Yes, indeed, good brother;

I have two ties, my own blood, and my mistress. Marg. Is she your sister?

Leon. Yes, indeed, good wife,

And my best sister; for she prov'd so, wench, When she deceiv'd you with a loving husband. Altea. I would not deal so truly for a stranger. Marg. Well, I could chide you;

But it must be lovingly, and like a sister.-
I'll bring you on your way, and feast you nobly
(For now I have an honest heart to love you)
And then deliver you to the blue Neptune.

Juan. Your colours you must wear, and wear 'em proudly,

Wear 'em before the bullet, and in blood too : And all the world shall know we're Virtue's servants.

Duke. And all the world shall know, a noble Makes women beautiful, and envy blind. [mind [Exeunt.

SCENE I.-The Street.

Enter GASPERO and MELITUS.

Mel. Sir, you're the very friend I wish'd to meet with,

I have a large discourse invites your ear
To be an auditor.

Gas. And what concerns it?

Mel. The sadly thriving progress of the loves
Between my lord the prince, and that great lady,
Whose insolence, and never-yet-match'd pride,
Can by no character be well exprest,
But in her only name, the proud Erota.

Gas. Alas, Melitus, I should guess the best
Success your prince could find from her, to be
As harsh as the event doth prove: But now
'Tis not a time to pity passionate griefs,
When a whole kingdom in a manner lies
Upon its death-bed bleeding.

Mel. Who can tell

By th' admiral of Venice, on a merchant
Of Candy, when the cause was to be heard
Before the Senate there, in open court
Professed, that the cruelty the admiral
Had shew'd, deserved not only fine, but death
(For Candy then and Venice were at peace :)
Since when upon a motion in the Senate,
For conquest of our land, 'tis known for certain,
That only this Gonzalo dar'd to oppose it,
His reason was, because it too much savour'd
Of lawless and unjust ambition.

The wars were scarce begun, but he, in fear
Of quarrels 'gainst his life, fled from his country,
And hither came, where, to confirm his truth,

I know, Melitus, he out of his own store,

Hath monied Cassilane the general.

Mel. What, without other pledges than Cassilane's,

Bare promise of repayment?

Gas. No, it may be

He has some pretty lordship to retire to;
But thus he hath done; now 'tis fit, Melitus,

The Senate should be thankful, otherwise

They should annihilate one of those laws

For which this kingdom is throughout the world Unfollowed and admired.

Mel. What laws are these, sir?

Let me so much importune you.

Gas. You shall,

And they be worth your knowledge: Briefly thus: Whoe'er he be that can detect apparently

Another of ingratitude, for any

Received benefit, the plaintiff may

Require th' offender's life; unless he please

Freely and willingly to grant remission.

Gas. And what doth add some delight more,
There is amongst the soldiers a contention
Who shall be the triumpher, and it stands
Doubtful between a father and his son,
Old Cassilane, and young Antinous.

Mel. Why may not both demand it?
Gas. The law denies it,

But where the soldiers do not all consent,
The parties in contention are referr'd
To plead before the senate; and from them
Upon an open audience to be judg'd

The chief, and then to make demands.

Mel. You ravish me

With wonder and delight.

Gas. Come; as we walk,

I shall more fully inform you.

SCENE II.-The Senate House.

[Exeunt.

Whose confidence thou hast bewitch'd, should see
Their little god of war kneel to his father,
Though in my hand I did grasp thunder
Ant. Sir,

For proof that I acknowledge you the author
Of giving me my birth, I have discharg'd
A part of my obedience. But if now
You should (as cruel fathers do) proclaim
Your right, and tyrant-like usurp the glory
Of my peculiar honours, not deriv'd
From successary, but purchas'd with my blood,
Then I must stand first champion for myself
Against all interposers.

Cas. Boldly urg'd,

And proudly, I could love thee, did not anger
Consult with just disdain, in open language
To call thee most ungrateful. Say freely,
Wilt thou resign the flatteries whereon
The reeling pillars of a popular breath
Have rais'd thy giant-like conceit, to add
A suffrage to thy father's merit? Speak.

Ant. Sir, hear me: Were there not a chronicle
Well penn'd by all their tongues, who can report
What they have seen you do; or had you not
Best in your own performance writ your self,
And been your own text, I would undertake
Alone, without the help of art, or character,
But only to recount your deeds in arms,
And you should ever then be fam'd a precedent
Of living victory: But as you are
Great, and well worthy to be styled great,
It would betray a poverty of spirit

In me to obstruct my fortunes, or descent,
If I should, coward-like, surrender up
The interest which the inheritance of your virtue
And mine own thrifty fate can claim in honour:
My lord, of all the mass of fame, which any
That wears a sword, and hath but seen me fight,
Gives me, I will not share, nor yield one jot,
One tittle.

Cas. Not to me?

Ant. You are my father,

Yet not to you.

Cas. Ambitious boy, how dar'st thou

To tell me, that thou wilt contend?

Ant. Had I

Been slothful, and not follow'd you in all

The streights of death, you might have justly then
Reputed me a bastard: 'Tis a cruelty,
More than to murther innocents, to take
The life of my yet infant. honour from me.

Cas. Antinous, look upon this badge of age,
Thy father's grey-hair'd beard: Full fifty years,
(And more than half of this, ere thou wert born)
I have been known a soldier, in which time
I found no difference 'twixt war and peace,
For war was peace to me, and peace was war.
Antinous, mark me well; there hath not liv'd
These fifty years a man whom Crete preferr'd
Before thy father; let me boldly boast,
Thy father, both for discipline and action
Hath so long been the first of all his nation;
Now, canst thou think it honest, charitable,
Nay human, being so young, my son, my child,
Begot, bred, taught by me, by me thy father,
For one day's service, and that one thy first,
To rob me of a glory which I fought for
A half of hundred years?

Ant. My case observes

Both equity and precedents; for, sir,