Beaumont Fletchers Works, vol 2 | Page 5

necessarie; but make no business of her. How now Lieutenant?
Enter Lieutenant.
Lieu. Oh Sir, as ill as ever; We shall have wars they say; they are
mustring yonder: Would we were at it once: fie, how it plagues me.
Leo. Here's one has served now under Captain Cupid, And crackt a
Pike in's youth: you see what's come on't.
Lieu. No, my disease will never prove so honourable.
Leo. Why sure, thou hast the best pox.
Lieu. If I have 'em, I am sure I got 'em in the best company; They are
pox of thirty Coats.
Leo. Thou hast mewed 'em finely: Here's a strange fellow now, and a
brave fellow, If we may say so of a pocky fellow, (Which I believe we
may) this poor Lieutenant; Whether he have the scratches, or the scabs,
Or what a Devil it be, I'le say this for him, There fights no braver
souldier under Sun, Gentlemen; Show him an Enemie, his pain's forgot
straight; And where other men by beds and bathes have ease, And easie
rules of Physick; set him in a danger, A danger, that's a fearfull one
indeed, Ye rock him, and he will so play about ye, Let it be ten to one

he ne'er comes off again, Ye have his heart: and then he works it
bravely, And throughly bravely: not a pang remembre'd: I have seen
him do such things, belief would shrink at.
Gent. 'Tis strange he should do all this, and diseas'd so.
Leo. I am sure 'tis true: Lieutenant, canst thou drink well?
Lieu. Would I were drunk, dog-drunk, I might not feel this backward?
Gent. I would take Physick.
Lieu. But I would know my disease first.
Leon. Why? it may be the Colique: canst thou blow
Lieu. There's never a bag-pipe in the Kingdom better.
Gent. Is't not a pleuresie?
Lieu. 'Tis any thing That has the Devil, and death in't: will ye march
Gentlemen? The Prince has taken leave.
Leo. How know ye that?
Lieu. I saw him leave the Court, dispatch his followers, And met him
after in a by street: I think He has some wench, or such a toy, to lick
over Before he go: would I had such another To draw this foolish pain
down.
Leo. Let's away Gentlemen, For sure the Prince will stay on us.
Gent. We'l attend Sir. [Exeunt.

SCENA II.
Enter Demetrius, and Celia.

Cel. Must ye needs go?
Dem. Or stay with all dishonour.
Cel. Are there not men enough to fight?
Dem. Fie Celia. This ill becomes the noble love you bear me; Would
you have your love a coward?
Cel. No; believe Sir, I would have him fight, but not so far off from me.
Dem. Wouldst have it thus? or thus?
Cel. If that be fighting--
Dem. Ye wanton fool: when I come home again I'le fight with thee, at
thine own weapon Celia, And conquer thee too.
Cel. That you have done already, You need no other Arms to me, but
these Sir; But will you fight your self Sir?
Dem. Thus deep in bloud wench, And through the thickest ranks of
Pikes.
Cel. Spur bravely Your firie Courser, beat the troops before ye, And
cramb the mouth of death with executions.
Dem. I would do more than these: But prethee tell me, Tell me my fair,
where got'st thou this male Spirit? I wonder at thy mind.
Cel. Were I a man then, You would wonder more.
Dem. Sure thou wouldst prove a Souldier, And some great Leader.
Cel. Sure I should do somewhat; And the first thing I did, I should
grow envious, Extreamly envious of your youth, and honour.
Dem. And fight against me?

Cel. Ten to one, I should do it.
Dem. Thou wouldst not hurt me?
Cel. In this mind I am in I think I should be hardly brought to strike ye,
Unless 'twere thus; but in my mans mind--
Dem. What?
Cel. I should be friends with you too, Now I think better.
Dem. Ye are a tall Souldier: Here, take these, and these; This gold to
furnish ye, and keep this bracelet; Why do you weep now? You a
masculine Spirit?
Cel. No, I confess, I am a fool, a woman: And ever when I part with
you--
Dem. You shall not, These tears are like prodigious signs, my sweet
one, I shall come back, loaden with fame, to honour thee.
Cel. I hope you shall: But then my dear Demetrius, When you stand
Conquerour, and at your mercy All people bow, and all things wait
your sentence; Say then your eye (surveying all your conquest) Finds
out a beautie, even in sorrow excellent, A constant face, that in the
midst of ruine With a forc'd smile, both