HARTLOVE

The worse for you. Madame, I am come to take my last leave. Of all my home affections, and my friends, For the interest you had once in Maria, I would acquaint you when I leave the kingdom. Be not offended maid. Where had you this face? I wonot hurt you, all the lineaments That built Maria up; all those springing beauty's Dwell on this thing, change but her tongue, I know her: Let me see your hand. Trust me, the selfsame white, And softness, prithee speak our English Dialect. By the love, That everlasting love I bore Maria Madam, farewell, and all good fortune dwell with-thee, With me my own affections; farewell maid, Fair gentle maid. I cannot go, theres somewhat calls me back. How hard she holds me? Just as Maria did, weeps the same drops, Now as I have a living soul, her sighs too; What shall I think, is not your name Maria, If it be not, delude me with so much charity To say it is. Good Madam, think not ill I am thus saucy. I am most pleased. Would I could in your language beg a kiss. Let me suffer death, If in my apprehension, two twinnd cherries Be more a kin, than her lips to Maria's; And if this harsh illusion would but leave her, She were the same; good Madam, shall I have Your consent now. To give this Virgin to me. You have been always kind to me, will you Deny me your fair Chosen. He is no friend that wishes my departure, I do not trouble you. Her shadow is enough, I'll dwell with that, Pursue your own ways, shall we live together? All I am worth, And all my Hope's, this strange voice would forsake her, For then she should be — prithee stay a little, Hark in thine ear, dissemble not, but tell me, And save my life; I know you are Maria: Speak but as I do ten words to confirm me; You have and English soul, do not disguise it From me with these strange accents — She pinched hard Again, and figh'd. She's gone too. A dream? I think so; But 'twas a pleasing one, now I'll obey, And forget all these wonders, led the way. The world's a Labyrinth, where unguided men Walk up and down to find their weariness; No sooner have we measured with much toil One crooked path, with hope to gain our freedom, But it betrays us to a new affliction; What a strange mockery will man become Shortly to all the creatures? O Mariah! If thou be'st dead, why does thy shadow fright me I Sure 'tis because I live; were I but certain To meet thee in one grave, and that our dust Might have the privilege to mix in silence, How quickly should my soul shake off this burden! What does that concern Thee Boy, 'tis a name cannot advantage thee, And I am weary on't. Thou Wertenberg well informed, it seems; well, whats your business I Is Maria Alive again? thats somewhat, and yet not Enough to make my expectation rise, to Passed half a blessing, since we cannot meet To make it up a full one; th'art mistaken. Th'art a dissembling boy, Some one has sent thee to mock me, though my anger Stoop not to punish thy green years, unripe For malice; did I know what person sent thee To tempt my sorrow thus, I should revenge it. Who is your Mistress? Thou art wild. Canst thou bring comfort from so sad a creature? Her miserable story can at best, But swell my Volume, large enough already. How's that? Partly of this truth I know, but prithee boy Proceed to that thou camest for; thou didst promise Something, thy language cannot hitherto Encourage me to hope for. Could the condition of my fate so equal, Lessen her sufferings? A strange message boy. Have you done boy. I'll hear no more, Go foolish boy, and tell thy fonder Mistress She has no second faith to give away; And mine; was given to Maria, though her death, Allow me freedom, see the Picture of her, I would give ten thousand Empires for the substance; Yet for Maria's sake, whose divine Figure That rude frame carries, I will love this counterfeit Above all the world, and had thy Mistress all The grace and blossom of her sex; now she Is gone, that was a walking Spring of beauty, I would not look upon her. Pretty Boy. And I'll take thee At thy word boy, thou hast a moving language, That pretty innocent, Copy of Maria Is all I love, I know not how to speak, Win her to think well of me, and I will Reward thee to thy wishes. Thou Wertenberg sent to bless me. Be happy. Madam, I come to ask your gentle pardon. Yes, if you be the mother of Maria. Alas, Madam, If your relation did consist but in Those naked terms, I had a title nearer, Since love unites more than the tie of blood; No matter for the empty voice of mother; Your nature still is left, which in her absence Must love Maria, and not see her ashes And memory polluted. By me, I am the vile profaner. I did alive, But since she died, I would been a villain to her. Do not mock me, I charge you by the Virgin you have wept for; For I have done and impious act against her, A deed able to fright her from her sleep, And through her marble, oft to be revenged; A wickedness, that if I should be filent, You as a witness must accuse me for't. Yes, you knew I loved Maria once; or grant, you did but think so, By what I would professed, or she has told you, Was't not a fault unpardonable in me, When I should drop my tears upon her grave. Yes, and propose sufficient. That I forgetful of my fame and vows To fair Maria, ere the worm could pierce Her tender shroud, had changed her for and other; Did you not blush to see me turn a Rebel? So soon to court a shadow, a strange thing, Without a name? Did you not curse my levity, Or think upon her death with the less sorrow That she had scaped a punishment more killing, O how I shame to think on't. No more, you are too charitable, but I know my gilded, and will from henceforth never Change words with that strange maid, whose innocent face Like your Maria's won so late upon me, My passion are corrected, and I can Look on her now, and woman kind, without Love in a thought; it's thus, I came to tell you. If after this acknowledgement, you'll be So kind to show me in what filent grave You have disposed your daughter, I will ask Forgiveness of all her dust, and never leave, Till with the loud confession of my shame I wake her ghost, and that pronounce my pardon: Will you deny this favour? then farewell, I'll never see you more: would! I disturb no body, speak but half a word And I am satisfied, but what needs that? I'll swear 'tis she. Peace then, And let me pray, she holds up her hands with me. Love ever honoured, And ever young, thou Sovereign of all hearts, Of all our sorrows, the sweet ease, Does she still cozen me? My souls so big, I cannot pray; 'tis she, I will go nearer. Contracted? this destroys his after marriage. Give me room, And fresh air to confider, gentlemen, My Hope's are too high. On joyfully, the cure of all our grief, Is owing to this pretty little These. Prithee leave fooling. You are injurious. Well, make your mirth, the while I bear my misery; Honest minds would would better thoughts. Prithee leave mocking. You are light Gentlemen, Nothing to weigh your hearts, pray give me leave, I'll come and see, and take my leave. Yes, When I am mischievous I will believe your projects: She is gone, for ever gone, I cannot help it, My Hope's and all my happiness gone with her. Gone Like a pleasing dream: what mirth and jollity Reigns round about this house? how every office Swetes with new joys, can she be merry too? Is all this pleasure set by her appointment? Sure she has a false heart then; still they grow louder The old men God, his gold, has won upon her (Light hearted Cordial gold) and all my services That offered naked truth, are clean forgotten: Yet if she were compelled, but it cannot be, If I could but imagine her will mine, Although he had her body. Can fair Maria look again upon me? Can there be so much impudence in sweetness? Or has she God a strong heart to defy me? She comes her self: how rich she is in Jewels! Me thinks they show Like frozen Isicles, Cold winter had hung on her, how the Roses That kept continual spring within her cheeks Are withered with the old men dull embraces? She would speak to me. I can sighs too Lady But from a sounder heart: yes, and can weep too But 'tis for you, that ever I believed you, Tears of more pious valve then your marriage; You would encase your self, and I must credit you, So much my old obedience compels from me; Go, and forget me, and my poverty, I need not bid you, you're too perfect that way: But still remember that I loved Maria, Loved with a loyal love, nay turn not from me, I will not ask a treare more, you are bountiful, Go and rejoice, and I will wait upon you That little of my life left. I have enough, I'll honour ye. I am hight with wine, And apt now to believe, but if thou dost this Out of a villainy, to make me wrong her, As thou art prove enough. I must confess all this. Pray let me think a little. I hear you. She is going now to bed, among the women What opportunity can I have to meet her? I will go presently, now, now, I stay thee. Yes, yes, now I feel it. Good Father Wildgoose, I do confess it. I shall be sure enough, lead on, and crown me. 'Tis her voice, stay. I am no Devil. I must talk farther with ye You know my fair affection. Pray walk this way, And if you ever loved me. Shall he enjoy that sweet? He that never felt what love was. I am tame, but let me walk we'yee, Talk but a minute. Give me your hand then. Nay then I'll live to be a terror to thee, Sweet Virgin Rose farewell: heaven has thy beauty, Thats only fit for heaven. I'll live a little To find the villain out that wrought this injury, And then most blessed soul, I'll climb up to thee. Farewell, I feel my self another creature. Didst not fright e'm? Thou hadst wickedness enough to make them stare, And be afraid o'thee, malicious devil; And draw thy sword, for by Maria's soul; I will not let thee escape to do more mischief. To kill thee, nothing else will ease my anger, The injury is fresh, I bleed with all, Nor can that word express it, there's no peace in't, Nor must it be forgiven but in death; Therefore call up thy valour if thou'st any, And summon up thy spirits to defend thee; Thy heart must suffer for thy damned practises, Against thy noble continued n, and my innocence. Out ugly villain, Fling on her the most hated name of Whore To the world's eye, and face it out in courtesy, Bring him to see't, and make me drunk to attempt it. No more, if you can pray, do it as you fight. Stay blessed souls. Dost bleed? Now I well hope it is not dangerous; Give me thy hand, as far as honour guides me, I'll know thee again. Good Gentlemen remember not my Fortune's. They are not to be helped with words. She stays long, sure young Wildgoose has abused me, He has made sport wi'me, I may yet get out again, And I may see his face once more, I would soul intentions, But they are drawn on by a fouler dealing. Hark, hark, it was the door, Something comes this way, wondrous still, and stealing May be some walking spirit to affright me. Most virtuous Maid, I have done, forgive my follies: Pardon, Oh pardon, I now see my wickedness, And what a monstrous shape it puts upon me, On your fair hand I seal. I'll die for you Rather than you shall suffer, I'll — — 'Tis his voice, Fate, I thank thee. The night, and all the evils the night covers, The Goblins, Hags, and the black spawn of darkness Cannot fright me, no death, I dare thy cruelty, For I am weary both of life and light too; Keep my wits heaven, they say spirits appear To melancholy minds, and the graves open, I would feign see the fair Maria's shadow, But speak unto her spirit ere I died, But ask upon my knees a mercy from her: I was a villain, but her wretched Kinsman, That set his plot, shall with his heart blood satisfy Her injured life and honour, what lights this?