Beaumont Fletchers Works, vol 2 | Page 6

the breaking East with her bright Crystals. I am all on fire, away.
Char. And I am frozen. [Exit.
Enter Zenocia _with Bow and Quiver, an Arrow bent_, Arnoldo and Rutilio _after her, arm'd_.
Zen. Come fearless on.
Rut. Nay an I budge from thee Beat me with durty sticks.
Clod. What Masque is this? What pretty fancy to provoke me high? The beauteous Huntress, fairer far, and sweeter; Diana shewes an Ethiop to this beauty Protected by two Virgin Knights.
Rut. That's a lye, A loud one, if you knew as much as I do, The Guard's dispers'd.
Arn. Fortune I hope invites us.
Clod. I can no longer hold, she pulls my heart from me.
Zen. Stand, and stand fixt, move not a foot, nor speak not, For if thou doest, upon this point thy death sits. Thou miserable, base, and sordid lecher, Thou scum of noble blood, repent and speedily, Repent thy thousand thefts, from helpless Virgins, Their innocence betrayed to thy embraces.
Arn. The base dishonour, that thou doest to strangers, In glorying to abuse the Laws of Marriage, Thy Infamy thou hast flung upon thy Country, In nourishing this black and barbarous Custom.
Clod. My Guard.
Arn. One word more, and thou diest.
Rut. One syllable That tends to any thing, but I beseech you, And as y'are Gentlemen tender my case, And I'le thrust my Javeling down thy throat. Thou Dog-whelp, thou, pox upon thee, what Should I call thee, Pompion, Thou kiss my Lady? thou scour her Chamber-pot: Thou have a Maiden-head? a mottly Coat, You great blind fool, farewel and be hang'd to ye, Lose no time Lady.
Arn. Pray take your pleasure Sir, And so we'l take our leaves.
Zen. We are determined, Dye, before yield.
Arn. Honour, and a fair grave.
Zen. Before a lustful Bed, so for our fortunes.
Rut. Du cat awhee, good Count, cry, prethee cry, O what a wench hast thou lost! cry you great booby. [Exe.
Enter Charino.
Clod. And is she gone then, am I dishonoured thus, Cozened and baffl'd? my Guard there, no man answer? My Guard I say, sirrah you knew of this plot; Where are my Guard? I'le have your life you villain, You politick old Thief.
Char. Heaven send her far enough,
Enter Guard.
And let me pay the ransom.
Guard. Did your honour call us?
Clod. Post every way, and presently recover The two strange Gentlemen, and the fair Lady.
Guard. This day was Married Sir?
Clod. The same.
Guard. We saw 'em. Making with all main speed to th' Port.
Clod. Away villains. [Exit Guard. Recover her, or I shall dye; deal truly, Didst not thou know?
Char. By all that's good I did not. If your honour mean their flight, to say I grieve for that, Will be to lye; you may handle me as you please.
Clod. Be sure, with all the cruelty, with all the rigor, For thou hast rob'd me villain of a treasure.
Enter Guard.
How now?
Guard. They're all aboard, a Bark rode ready for 'em, And now are under Sail, and past recovery.
Clod. Rig me a Ship with all the speed that may be, I will not lose her: thou her most false Father, Shalt go along; and if I miss her, hear me, A whole day will I study to destroy thee.
Char. I shall be joyful of it; and so you'l find me.
[Exeunt omnes.

_Actus Secundus. Scena Prima_.
Enter Manuel du Sosa, and Guiomar.
Man. I Hear and see too much of him, and that Compels me Madam, though unwillingly, To wish I had no Uncles part in him, And much I fear, the comfort of a Son You will not long enjoy.
Gui. 'Tis not my fault, And therefore from his guilt my innocence Cannot be tainted, since his Fathers death, (Peace to his soul) a Mothers prayers and care Were never wanting, in his education. His Child-hood I pass o're, as being brought up Under my wing; and growing ripe for study, I overcame the tenderness, and joy I had to look upon him, and provided The choicest Masters, and of greatest name Of Salamanca, in all liberal Arts.
Man. To train his youth up. I must witness that.
Gui. How there he prospered to the admiration Of all that knew him, for a general Scholar, Being one of note, before he was a man, Is still remembred in that Academy, From thence I sent him to the Emperours Court, Attended like his Fathers Son, and there Maintain'd him, in such bravery and height, As did become a Courtier.
Man. 'Twas that spoil'd him, my Nephew had been happy. The Court's a School indeed, in which some few Learn vertuous principles, but most forget What ever they brought thither good and honest. Trifling is there in practice, serious actions Are obsolete and out of use, my Nephew Had been a happy man, had he ne're known What's there in grace and fashion.
Gui. I have heard yet, That while he