Beaumont Fletchers Works, vol 2 | Page 6

scorns at fate, and fortune: Say
you find such a one, so nobly fortified, And in her figure all the sweets
of nature?
Dem. Prethee, No more of this, I cannot find her.
Cel. That shews as far beyond my wither'd beauty; And will run mad to
love ye too.
Dem. Do you fear me, And do you think, besides this face, this beauty,
This heart, where all my hopes are lock'd--
Cel. I dare not: No sure, I think ye honest; wondrous honest. Pray do
not frown, I'le swear ye are.

Dem. Ye may choose.
Cel. But how long will ye be away?
Dem. I know not.
Cel. I know you are angry now: pray look upon me: I'le ask no more
such questions.
Dem. The Drums beat, I can no longer stay.
Cel. They do but call yet: How fain you would leave my Company?
Dem. I wou'd not, Unless a greater power than love commanded,
Commands my life, mine honour.
Cel. But a little.
Dem. Prethee farewel, and be not doubtfull of me.
Cel. I would not have ye hurt: and ye are so ventrous-- But good sweet
Prince preserve your self, fight nobly, But do not thrust this body, 'tis
not yours now, 'Tis mine, 'tis only mine: do not seek wounds, Sir, For
every drop of blood you bleed--
Dem. I will Celia, I will be carefull.
Cel. My heart, that loves ye dearly.
Dem. Prethee no more, we must part: [Drums a March. Hark, they
march now.
Cel. Pox on these bawling Drums: I am sure you'l kiss me, But one kiss?
what a parting's this?
Dem. Here take me, And do what thou wilt with me, smother me; But
still remember, if your fooling with me, Make me forget the trust--
Cel. I have done: farewel Sir, Never look back, you shall not stay, not a

minute.
Dem. I must have one farewel more.
Cel. No, the Drums beat; I dare not slack your honour; not a hand more,
Only this look; the gods preserve, and save ye.

ACTUS SECUNDUS. SCENA PRIMA.
Enter Antigonus, Carinthus, Timon.
Ant. What, have ye found her out?
Char. We have hearkned after her.
Ant. What's that to my desire?
Char. Your grace must give us time, And a little means.
Tim. She is sure a stranger, If she were bred or known here--
Ant. Your dull endeavours Enter Menippus. Should never be employ'd.
Welcom Menippus.
Men. I have found her Sir, I mean the place she is lodg'd in; her name is
Celia, And much adoe I had to purchase that too.
Ant. Dost think Demetrius loves her?
Men. Much I fear it, But nothing that way yet can win for certain. I'le
tell your grace within this hour.
Ant. A stranger?
Men. Without all doubt.
Ant. But how should he come to her?

Men. There lies the marrow of the matter hid yet.
Ant. Hast thou been with thy wife?
Men. No Sir, I am going to her.
Ant. Go and dispatch, and meet me in the garden, And get all out ye can.
[Exit.
Men. I'le doe my best Sir. [Exit.
Tim. Blest be thy wife, thou wert an arrant ass else.
Char. I, she is a stirring woman indeed: There's a brain Brother.
Tim. There's not a handsom wench of any mettle Within an hundred
miles, but her intelligence Reaches her, and out-reaches her, and brings
her As confidently to Court, as to a sanctuary: What had his mouldy
brains ever arriv'd at, Had not she beaten it out o'th' Flint to fasten him?
They say she keeps an office of Concealments: There is no young
wench, let her be a Saint, Unless she live i'th' Center, but she finds her,
And every way prepares addresses to her: If my wife would have
followed her course Charinthus, Her lucky course, I had the day before
him: O what might I have been by this time, Brother? But she (forsooth)
when I put these things to her, These things of honest thrift, groans, O
my conscience, The load upon my conscience, when to make us
cuckolds, They have no more burthen than a brood-[goose], Brother;
But let's doe what we can, though this wench fail us, Another of a new
way will be lookt at: Come, let's abroad, and beat our brains, time may
For all his wisdom, yet give us a day. [Exeunt.

SCENA II.
Drum within, Alarm, Enter Demetrius, and Leontius.
Dem. I will not see 'em fall thus, give me way Sir, I shall forget you
love me else.

Leo. Will ye lose all? For me to be forgotten, to be hated, Nay never to
have been a man, is nothing, So you, and those we have preserv'd from
slaughter Come safely off.
Dem.