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Junip. Well, then God save the duke's majesty; is this any harm now? speak, is this any harm now?

Oni. No, nor good neither, 'sblood.
Junip. Do you laugh at me? do you
laugh at me? do you laugh at me?
Val. I, sir, we do.

Junip. You do indeed?
lal. I, indeed, sir.

Junip. 'Tis sufficient; page carry my purse; dog me.

[Exit. Oni. Gentlemen, leave him not; you see in what case he is; he is not in adversity, his purse is full of money; leave him not. [Exeunt.

Enter Angelo, with Rachel.

Ang. Nay, gentle Rachel.

Rach. Away, forbear, ungentle Angelo, Touch not my body with those impious hands, [heart, That, like hot irons, sear my trembling And make it hiss at your disloyalty.

Enter Chamont, Paulo Ferneze. Was this your drift, to use Ferneze's name? Was he your fittest stale? O wild dishonour! Paul. Stay, noble sir.

Ang. 'Sblood, how like a puppet do you talk now! [fool; Dishonour! what dishonour? come, come, Nay, then I see y'are peevish. S'heart, dis

honour!

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Pau. This would he do, base villain.
Rach. My dear lord.

Paul. Thou monster! even the soul treachery !

O what dishonour'd title of reproach May my tongue spit in thy deserved face! Methinks my very presence should invert The steeled organs of those traiterous eyes, To take into thy heart, and pierce it through. Turn'st thou them on the ground! wretch, dig a grave [heat. With their sharp points, to hide thy abhorred Sweet love, thy wrongs have been too vislent

Since my departure from thee, I perceive; But now true comfort shall again appear, And, like an armed angel, guard thee sale From all th' assaults of cover'd villainy. Come, monsieur, let us go, and leave this wretch

To his despair.

Ang. My noble Ferneze.

Pau. What canst thou speak to me, a not thy tongue,

Forc'd with the torment of thy guilty soul,
Break that infected circle of thy mouth,
Like the rude clapper of a crazed bell?
I, that in thy bosom lodg'd my soul,
With all her train of secrets, thinking them
To be as safe and richly entertain'd
As in a prince's court, or tower of strength,
And thou to prove a traitor to my trust,
And basely to expose it; O this world!
Ang. My honourable lord.

Pau. The very owl, whom other birds b

stare

And wonder at, shall hoot at thee; and snakes, [their

In every bush, shall deaf thine ears with Cha. Nay, good my lord, give end unto your passions. [lost opinion. Ang. You shall see I will redeem your

Pach. My lord, believe him.
Cha. Come, be satisfy'd;

Sweet lord, you know our haste; let us to horse,

The time for my engag'd return is past. Be friends again, take him along with you. Pan. Come, ignior Angelo, hereafter prove more true. [Exeunt.

Enter count Ferneze, Maximilian, Francisco. Count. Tut, Maximilian, for your honour'd self,

I am persuaded; but no words shall turn
The edge of purpos'd vengeance on that
wretch.
Come, bring him forth to execution.

Enter Camillo bound, with servants.
I'll hang him for my son, he shall not 'scape,
Had he a hundred lives. Tell me, vile slave,
Think'st thou I love my son? is he my flesh?
Is he my blood, my life? and shall all these
Be tortur'd for thy sake, and not reveng'd?
Truss up the villain.

Max. My lord, there is no law to confirm

this action.

"Tis dishonourable.

Count. Dishonourable, Maximilian!
It is dishonourable in Chamont,
The day of his prefixt return is past,
And he shall pay for't.

Cam. My lord, my lord,

Use your extremest vengeance; I'll be glad

To suffer ten times more for such a friend.

Count. O resolute and peremptory wretch! Franc. My honour'd lord, let us intreat a word.

Count. I'll hear no more; I say, he shall

not live;

Myself will do it. Stay, what form is this Stands betwixt him and me, and holds my hand?

What miracle is this? 'tis my own fancy
Carves this impression in me; my foft nature
That ever hath retain'd such foolish pity
Of the most abject creature's misery,
That it abhors it. What a child am I
To have a child? ah me! my son, my son!
Enter Christophero.

Chr. O my dear love, what is become of
thee?

What unjust absence layest thou on my breast, [my back, Like weights of lead, when swords are at That run me thorough with thy unkind flight,

My gentle disposition waxeth wild;

I shall run frantick: O my love, my love! Enter Juques.

Jaq. My gold, my gold, my life, my soul,
my heaven!

What is become of thee? see, I'll impart
My miserable loss to my good lord.

Let me have search, my lord, my gold is

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Chr. O father, where's my love? were you so careless

To let an unthrift steal away your child? Jaq. I know your lordship may find out my gold.

For god's sake pity me; justice, sweet lord. Count. Now they have young Chamont, Christophero,

Surely they never will restore my son. Chr. Who would have thought you could have been so careless

To lose your only daughter?

Jaq. Who would think

That looking to my gold with such hare's eyes,

That ever open, I, even when I sleep,
I thus should lose my gold, my noble lord,
What says your lordship?

Count. O my son, my son!
Chr. My dearest Rachel !
Jaq. My most honey gold!
Count. Hear me, Christophero.
Chr. Nay, hear me, Jaques.
Jaq. Hear me, most honour'd lord.
Max. What rule is here?

Count. O god, that we should let Cha-
mont escape.

Enter Aurelia, Phenixella.

Chr. I, and that Rachel, such a virtuous maid,

Should be thus stolen away.

Jaq. And that my gold,

Being so hid in earth, should be found out. Mux. O confusion of languages, and yet no tower of Babel!

Fran. Ladies, beshrew me, if you come not fit

To make a jangling consort; will you laugh To see three constant passions.

Max. Stand by,

[comforted? I will urge them; sweet count, will you be Count. It cannot be

But he is handled the most cruelly
That ever any noble prisoner was.

Max. Steward, go chear my lord.
Chr. Well, if Rachel took her flight wil-
lingly.

Max. Sirrah, speak you touching your
daughter's flight?

Jag. O that I could so soon forget to know

The thief again that had my gold, my gold. Max. Is not this pure?

Count. O thou base wretch, I'll drag thee through the streets;

Enter Balthasar, and whispers with him. And as a monster make thee wonder'd at. How now?

Phan. Sweet gentleman, how too unwor

thily

Art thou thus tortur'd! brave Maximilian, Pity the poor youth, and appease my father. Count. How! my son return'd! O Maxi

milian, Francisco, daughters! bid him enter here.

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Aur. Now god-a-mercy fortune, and sweet Venus.

Let Cupid do his part, and all is well. Phan. Methinks, my heart's in heaven with this comfort.

Chamont. Is this the true Italian courtesy ? Ferneze, were you tortur'd thus in France? By my soul's safety

Count. My most noble lord,
I do beseech your lordship.
Cha. Honour'd count,

Wrong not your age with flexure of a knee,
I do impute it to those cares and griefs
That did torment you in your absent son.

Count. Oworthy gentlemen, I am asham'd That my extreme affection to my son Should give my honour so uncur❜d a maim ; But my first son being in Vicenza lost.

Cha. How! in Vicenza! lost you a son there?

About what time, my lord?

Count. O the same night Wherein your noble father took the town. Cha. How long's that since, my lord? can you remember?

Count: 'Tis now well nigh upon the twen

tieth year.

Cha. And how old was he then?

Cha. I cannot tell;

[it.

Between the years of three and four, I take Cha. Had he no special note in his at

tire,

Or otherwise, that you can call to mind?
Count. I cannot well remember his attire;
But I have often heard his mother say,
He had about his neck a tablet,
Given to him by the emperor Sigismund,
His godfather, with this inscription,
Under the figure of a silver globe,
In minimo mundus.

Cha. How did you call your son, my lord?
Count. Camillo, lord Chamont.

Cha. Then no more my Gasper, but Ca-
millo,

Take notice of your father.

Gentlemen, Stand not amaz'd; here is a tablet, With that inscription, found about his neck, That night, and in Vicenza, by my father,

(Who being ignorant what name he had
Christen'd him Gasper;) nor did I reveal
This secret, till this hour, to any man.
Count. O happy revelation! O blest hour
O my Camillo!

Phan. O strange! my brother!
Fran. Maximilian,

Behold how the abundance of his joy
Drowns him in tears of gladness.
Count. O my boy,

Forgive thy father's late austerity.

Max. My lord, I delivered as much be fore, but your honour would not be per suaded; I will hereafter give more observance to my visions; I dreamt of this.

Jaq. I can be still no longer, my good! lord;

Lors Do a poor man some grace amongst all your Count. Why what's the matter, Jaques Jaq. I am robb'd;

I am undone, my lord; robb'd and undere
A heap of thirty thousand golden crowns
Stolen from me in one minute, and I fear
By her confederacy that calls me father;
But she is none of mine, therefore, sweet lord
Let her be tortur'd to confess the truth.
Max. More wonders yet.
Count. How, Jaques! is not Rachel the
thy daughter?

Jaq. No, I disclain in her; I spit at her: She is a harlot, and her customers, Your son, this gallant, and your stewar here,

Have all been partners with her in my spe No less than thirty thousand.

Count. Jaques, Jaques,

This is impossible; how shouldst thou con
To the possession of so huge a heap,
Being always a known beggar?
Jaq. Out, alas !

I have betray'd myself with my own tongue)
The case is alter'd.

Count. Some one stay him here. Max. What means he to depart? Ferneze, upon my soul this beggar, t beggar is a counterfeit.

Urge him: didst thou lose gold?
Jaq. O no, I lost no gold.
Max. Said I not true?
Count. How! didst thou first lose the
thousand crowns,

And now no gold? was Rachel first thy ch
And is she now no daughter? sirrah, Jaqu
You know how far our Milan laws extend
For punishing of lyars.

Jaq. I, my lord.

What shall I do? I have no starting-holes, Monsieur Chamont, stand you, my honor lord.

Cha. For what, old man?

Jag. Il-gotten goods ne'er thrive; I play'd the thief, and now am robb'd my

self.

I am not what I seem, Jaques de Prie,

Nor was I born a beggar as I am,
But some time steward to your noble father

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crowns.

Count. Mass, who was it told me, that a couple of my men were become gallants of Hate?

Fran. Marry, 'twas I, my lord; my man told me.

Enter Onion and Juniper.
Max. How now! what pageant is this?
Junip. Come, signior Onion, let's not be
asham'd to appear;
Keep state, look not ambiguous now.
Oni. Not I, while I am in this suit.
Junip. Lordlings, equivalence to you all.
Oni. We thought good to be so good as
see you, gentlemen.

Max. What, monsieur Onion!
Oni. How dost thou, good captain?
Count. What, are my hinds turn'd gentle-

men?

Oni. Hinds, sir! 'sblood, and that word will bear an action; it shall cost us a thouand pound a piece, but we'll be reveng'd.

Junip. Wilt thou sell thy lordship, count?
Count. What, peasants purchase lordships?
Junip. Is that any novels, sir?

Max. O transmutation of elements! it is Certified you had pages.

Junip. I, sir; but it is known they proved ridiculous; they did pilfer, they did purloin, they did procrastinate our purses; For the which wasting of our stock, we have put them to the stocks.

Count. And thither shall you two presently.

These be the villains that stole Jaques' gold; Away with them, and set them with their

men.

Max. Onion, you will now be peel'd.

Fran. The case is alter'd now.

Oni. Good my lord, good my lord.
Junip. Away, scoundrel; dost thou fear
a little elocution?

Shall we be be confiscate now? shall we droop now?

Shall we be now in helogabolus ?

Oni. Peace, peace, leave thy gabling. Count. Away, away with them; what's this they prate?

[Exeunt with Juniper and Onion. Keep the knaves sure; strict inquisition Shall presently be made for Jaques' gold, To be dispos'd at pleasure of Chamont. Cha. She is your own, lord Paulo, if your father Give his consent.

is alter'd.

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Ang. How now, Christophero! the case [tent, sir. Cha. With you as well as me; I am conCount. With all my heart; and in ex

change of her,

(If with you fair acceptance it may stand) I tender my Aurelia to your love.

Cha. I take her from your lordship with all thanks,

And bless the hour wherein I was made prisoner,

For the fruition of this present fortune,
So full of happy and unlook'd-for joys.
Melun, I pardon thee; and for the treasure
Recover it, and hold it as thine own:
It is enough for me to see my sister
Live in the circle of Ferneze's arms,
My friend, the son of such a noble father;
And my unworthy self wrapt above all
By being the lord of so divine a dame.

Max. Well, I will now swear the case is altered. Lady, fare you well; I will subdue my affections. Madam, as for you, you are a profest virgin, and I will be silent. My honourable lord Ferneze, it shall become you at this time not to be frugal, but bounteous, and open-handed; your fortune hath been so to you, lord Chamont.

You are now no stranger; you must be welcome; you have a fair, amiable, and splendid lady: but signior Paulo, signior Camillo, I know you valiant, be loving. Lady, I must be better known to you. Signiors, for you, I pass you not, though I let you pass; for in truth I pass not of you. Lovers to your nuptials, lordlings to your dances; march fair all, for a fair march is worth a king's ransome.

LIBRARY

OF THE

UNIVERSITY

This Comedy was sundry times ected by the Children of the Black-Friars

FINIS.

[Exeunt.

J. Brettell, Printer,

Marshall-Street, Goldon Square.

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