MALHEUREUX

Advance thy snout, do not suffer to drop on thy spanish leather jerkin, most hardly honest Mulligrub Let him have day till then, and he will wink with both his eyes. Nay, be not jaw fallen, my most sharking Mulligrub. This lust is a most deadly sin sure. Not to a Courtesan. This? A Courtesan? Now cold blood defend me, what a pro portion afflictes me? Is she unchaste, can such a one be damde? Oh love and beauty, ye two eldest seeds Of the vast Chaos, what strong right you have, Even in things divine, our very souls. Are strumpets then such things, so delicate, Can custom spoil, what nature made so good. Or is their Custom bade? Beauty's for use, I never saw a sweet face vicious, It might be proud, inconstant, wanton, nice, But never tainted with unnatural vice. Their worst is, their best art is love to win, Oh that to love should be or shame, or sin; But how so ere you shade it, the world's eye Shines not and open out, Lying, malice, envy, are held but fidyngs. of rage, when custom and the world Calls lust a crime spotted with blackest terrore Death man, my destiny I cannot choose. Unavoidable though folly, worse then madness. Yes I hear you are taken up with scholars and church men. Enter Hol ferns the Barbar. A tooth ache Lady, a paltry rheum. I am no whit my self, Ʋ ideo meliora proboque, But raging lust my fate all strong does move: "The Gods themselves cannot be wise and love. Can such a rarity be neglected, can there be measure or sin in loving such a creature I must not rave, Silence and modesty two customa rye virtues: will you be my mistress? Will you lie with me? No matter, let me enjoy your bed. Why then I pray thee love, and with thy love enjoy me. So seriously, that I protest no office so dangerous, no deed so unreasonable, no cost so heavy, but I vow to the utmost tentation of my best being to effect it. If there be ought in brain, heart or hand, Can make you doubtless, I am your vowed servant. Can I do it? Well. So. I love to feel such oaths, swear again. A thing most proper. Rather then my breath, even as my being. What vow? Dear soul what vow? Then he. Die. Will you be mine when he is not? To kill a man? Nay he is gone, the ring, well, come, little more libe rall of thy love. Oh heaven, there is no hell but loves prolongings, deer farewell. To kill my friend Oh is to kill my self, Yet men but men excrement, breeding man, As he do's worms this nothing, he S its. The body of a man is of the self same soul, A's Ox or horse, no murder these, As for that only partly, which makes man, Murder uva pow to Oh wit how vile, How hellish art thou, when thou ffect nature Gainst sacred faith think more e to kill a friend To gain a woman, to Io so self, For appetite and sensual end, whose very having, Loses all appetite, and gives a etie, That corporal end, remorse and inward blushings, Forcing us loath the steam of our own heats, Whilst friendship closed in virtue being spiritual, Tastes no such languishinges and moments pleasure, With much repentance, but Like rivers flow, And further that they run, they bigger grow, Lord how was I misgone, how easy ti's to err, When passion will not give us leave to think? "A learned that is and honest man may fear. "And lust, and rage, and malice, and any thing, "when he is taken uncollected suddenly: "Ti's sin of cold blood; mischief will waked eyes, "That is the damned and the truly vice, "Not he that's passionles but he above passion's wise, My friend shall know it all. Exit: The eldest child of nature never So damed a creature. Dear loved Sir, I find a mind courageously vicious, may put on a desperate security, but can never be blessed with a firm enjoying and self satisfaction. 'Tis well, we both may jest, I would been tempted to your death. Devilishly mad. Right. I, and this heart, and in true proof you were slain I should bring her this ring, from which she was assured You would not partly, until from life you parted. For which deed, and only for which deed, I should possess her sweetness. My lust, not I, before my reason would, yet I must use , that I a man of sense should conceive endless pleasure in a body whose soul I know to be so hideously black. I do malign my creation that I am subject to passion, I must enjoy her. Oh but think of it. So. They exchange gloves as pledges. "There is no God in blood, no reason in desire: Shall I but live? Shall I not be forced to act Some deed, whose very name is hideous? Then I must enjoy Francischina. But if report go strong that you are slain, and that by me. Whereon I may be seized Where shall I find your being. I rest your self, each man hath follies. 'Tis true, but truth seems folly in madness spectacles, I am not now my self, no man: Farewell. "When womna's in the heart, in the soul hell. Honest Belman, I perceive thou knowest me, I prethe call the Watch. Inform the Constable of my reputation, That I may no longer abide in this shameful habitation, And hold thee, all I have about me. Any from you is pleasure. Come my loving Prettiness, where thie Chamber? I long to touch your sheets. What your a learned wanton, and proceed by art? Why quareld a set purpose, drew him out, Singled him, and having th'advantage of my sword and might, ran him through and through. I dragged him by the heals to the next wharffe and spurned him in the River. Your errors gives you passion: Frevile lives. Let me die if at Shatewes the Jeweller, he lives not safe untouched. I do not blush, although condemned by laws, No kind of death is shameful but the cause: Which I do know is none, and yet my lust Hath made the one (although not cause) most joust. May I not be reprieved? Freuile is but mislodgd, Some lethargy hath seazd him, no, much malice, Do not lay blood upon your souls with good inten , Men may do ill and law sometime repents. "Conscience was law: but now laws Conscience, My endless peace is made, and to the poor, My purse, my purse. You are a Welyman, But now thou source of Devils, O how I loath The very memory of that I adore, He thats of fair blood, well meaned, of good breeding, Best famed, of sweet acquaintance and true friends And would with desperate Impudence lose all these, And hazard landing at this fatal shore, Ler him never kill, nor steal, but love a Whore, Farewell. Freuile discovers himself. Why stay. I am my self, how long wast ere I could Persuade my passion to grow calm to you? Rich sense makes good bade language, and a friend Should weigh no Actium, but the actions end. I am now worthy yours, when before The beast of man, lose blood distempered us, "He that lust rules cannot be virtuous. Not so trust me, I must bring my friend home: I dare not give you up to your own company, I fear the warmth of wine and youth, will draw you to some Common house of las ciuious entertainment. Loved Sir, your reason? Well I am sure, 'tis one of the head sins. Pity, 'tis grown a most daily vice. What Of ill you merit well: my hearts good friend, Leave yet at length, at length, for know this ever 'Tis no such sin to err, but to persever. Whither? Salvation? What to a Brothel, to behold and impudent on not shall here the whole to see her: the most odious spectacle the earth can present, is and modest vulger woman. Well: I'll go to make her loath the shame she's in, The Soul I must love her destiny is weak to my affection. A common love, blush not faint breast That which is ever loved of most is b Let colder-eld the strongest objections more , No loves without some lust, oh life without some love. Well sir for your sake I'll think better of them. Hah? will you go home sir it's hie bed time. A wanton lover you have been. Say ye? Howe's this? The studious morn with paler cheek draws on, The days bold light, hark how the freeborn birds Carol their unaffected passion, The Nitingalls sing. Now sing they sonnets, thus they cry, we love Oh breath of heaven! thus they harmless souls Give entertain to mutual affects. They have no Bawds: no mercenary beds No politic restraints: no artificial heats No faint dissemblings, no custom makes them blush, No shame afflicts their name, Oh you happy beasts In whom and inborn heat is not held sin, How far transcend you wretched, wretched man Whom national custom, Tyrannous respects Of slavish order, fetters: lames his power Calling that sin in us, which in all Thy else Is nature's highest virtue. (Oh miseri quer ng gaud a crimen haben Sure nature against virtue cross does fallen Or virtues self is oft unnatural, That I should love a strumpet I a man of Snow Now shame forsake me whither am I fallen! A creature of a public use, my friends love to To live to be a talk to men, a shame To my professed virtue. "Oh accursed reason, "How many eyes hast thou to see thy shame "And yet how blind once to prevent defame? May it be seem a wise man to be in love? Shall I not offend the of our friendship? I would but embrace her, ear her speak, and at the most but kiss her. I shall near prove heartily received, A kind of flat ungracious modesty, And insufficient dul es stains my haviour. Oh but a chased reserved privateness, a modest continence, Beauty entirely choice: I can not contain, he saw thee not that left thee, If there be wisdom, reason, honour, grace Of any foolishly esteemed virtue, In giving over possession of such beauty, Let me be vicious, so I may be lou'de, Passion I am thy slave, sweet it shall be my grace, That I account thy love, my only virtue: Shall I swear I am thy most vowed servant. Stay, let not my desire burst me, Oh my impatient heat endures no resistance, no protractio ̄ , there is no being for me but your sudden enjoying. But what vow, what vow? Will you be only mine. 'Tis as irrevocable as breath, he die. Your love. Dear my Sir, the strongest argument that speaks Against the souls eternity is lust. That Wiseman's folly, and the fools uvisd But to to Beatrice, and Nay to expe your health and strength Your precious time, and Of endue preferment advantage Of any worthy end to the The common bosom 1 line