DORIGENE

Good Seignior no more irruptions, I tell you what you shall trust to: I am not Like a Mill, to be turned with wind and water; not all your sighs and tears can altar me, keep them for Custard-eating Dams i'th' City, there they may prosper. Thou art a handsome fellow, I confess it, Hast good parts too, I know it; Living sufficient To keep house i'th' Country, and inuisie Every good Time thy Neighbours, and at Christmas' Distribute amongst the poor six pence apiece, And a brown Loaf: Good Country virtues these, And may perhaps serve for a Doctors daughter, Though she have read Orlando Furioso. But for me, that have looked higher into Poetry, And for a needs can couple of my self, Have talked with Montaigne and with Machivel, And can make use of them; note him in this Place shallow, here profound: and be only Star Whereto all Wits advance their Jacob's Staff, And the Supreme cry me out Excellent. What would three hundred pound a year do here? 'Twill keep a blue Coat and a side Saddle, But not maintain my Coach-Horses in Prouander. 'Tis true: I think my Portion is some seven score pound, And hardly that byrlady: what it's I know not, It lies above in the Garret in old rusty Armour. But what's that to purpose: ther's a Spirit (Good or bade, I know not) whispers unto me; Be and Empress Wench, a Queen, or Duchess, Countess, or Marquess at least, for those are trifles. Now I'll tell thee Dorilus, because thou art a handsome Fellow, as I told thee before; when I am any one of these, thou shalt enjoy me, in plain terms, lie with me, and make a Cuckold: for my Ambition is to and vance Greatness. Look, here's thy Sister. For my Ambition is to advance Greatness. Why as a Woman may do; the manner is not to be shown now. I am glad thou art come to take off thy Brother. Like a Watring-Pot; he would make and excellent Fountain in the amid of a Garden. Would, would, would, Thou art a mad Wench, and hast mercy upon no man, far worse then I. Yes faith, and thou sayest the word, and laugh him out of his Dominions: for to laugh him and all his train out of countenance, is nothing; I have a great mind to icere the Courtiers. Is't done? Why then it's done, and dun's the Mouse, and undone all the Courtiers: my Father's gone before to meet him. Through out Ground he must come, the hour joust at milking time. Why dost thou laugh? No sirrah, you shannot tell me, I wonnot loose the glory of the invention, for I know you have found it. I knew it must out, or thy tongue had burned else, To go Like Milk maids, And Like Milkmaids will we go, To make sport with the Courtiers, and triumph. I would my Father had bound thee Prentice see ven years ago to a Scrivener, by this time thou hadst lost thy Ears: What make you eues-dropping here? I thought this had not been a sober time of day with you. I must give him some. What, you donnot mean to go see the Duke, Brother? I have no more, believe it. Your mouth's stopped, is't not? Why so then, pray God the Wenches have clean Waistcoats. Resolved! Thou art a Fool Julia, thou shalt see I will do things beyond credulity. Sweet courteous Squire. Love me Sir, why you have scarce looked on me. I am sorry for't. Surely Sir, those Ladies are not found, that die of such a scurvy disease. You show your self and Ass, and I not care for't. Marry God forbid, Sir. Ass unawares may prove a wise man, better considered of. I do indeed Sir. Full weight Sir. In Quality, an't shall please you; Yet there may be a doubt the tother way, For our Father's were next Neighbours. We mean no harm, an't please you: if my Lord will spare us a little of his sour Beer, weel make you a dainty Sillibub; that's our Quality. I warrant thee Wench, hold up, I'll take too lashes for thy one. A Swineherd if it please you. Excellent: my fortune's come about, And I will venture, though my life lie on't. Hold thy tongue, thou art a sharer, As I give thee example, follow. Pardon, pardon, Great Prince, If we have through our Ignorance, Or Folly, give it what name you please, Wronged this fair Presence, wronged you the Light. That came but as the Egyptians, to adore The rising Sun, and to fallen down before it. We are poor Gentlewomen of this Country. Neighbours unto this place, that took upon us This Habit, to be freer and more bold. And yet more har less, fearing to be pressed With the Court Compliment, that plays so thick In a young Damsels ears, it often bears And batters down poor Virgins Chastity. We did presume upon our strength, withstand The Pages, Footmen, and the Scullery: But when a Lord should take us unto task, Or others of your brave embroidered Train, Alas we had been Like the silly Foul Under the towering Hawk, laid flat before them, Upon the very shaking of their Feathers. I shall my gracious Lord, I crave your pardon. Yes my Lord, I thank this Messenger. There is and Earldom now fallen to your Crown. Then that it is I crave, for him I owe All duty, all respect, and life unto. One not far off; my Father. If I might not offend my gracious Prince, I would make bold to speak. And speak freely? I may I hope, without your Courtiers scorn, Pronounce my self a Lady; and before This Honour was conferred upon me by you, There did run generous blood within these veins, And if not noble: but say there did not, And I had been born the last of the last Rank of basest people; yet you have made me (Such is the power of Princes) truly noble: I am the daughter of and Earl, which is a Prince, And by that Title challenge Alliance With every other Prince of higher blood. And if the Emperor himself were here, He now would own me for his Kinswoman, For I stand in the Line of Royalty: And who denies it, knows not Heraldry. Therefore my Lord, my Blood can be no let, (If I fail not in other parts) to make A Duchess, or a Queen, and may become (If you be pleased to make me so) your Wife, Ambitious of your Love, not of the Title. My Lord— Drinks to Raimond. I must confess, I ever had a wild, Wanton, and untamed Tongue, but still the Heart Of such a Matron as my Mother was: I did and do still love thee, and I protest Purposed to have married thee, but that I think Thy self would not have wished me to have lost A Fortune such as this—Little did I imagine, When I did jest those words, to have been a Duchess. What shall we do Julia? Dost thou see The sad and downcast countenance of thy Brother? I love him for his own sake, and for thine, And would not have him perish; which I fear. There are some flattering ways yet to restore him, if we could light on them. Alas good Dorilus. I never yet had other Testimony Of your strong love, then that which all you Men Unto your Ends can feign better then Women, Sighs and sad words, mingled with some Tears. I prithee think me not a Murderess, To take delight in blood: no, my deer Dorilus, Live, and live long, that I may love thee so. Yet if thy love be, as thou dost profess, No danger, travail, nothing that Art. can do, Obtained with much lose, greater difficulty, Will be left unattempted: therefore, to try What strength it holds in thee, and make it gained, Better esteemed of, being hardly God, I shall enjoin thee to a strange Design. It is not dangerous, nor impossible, For I have read even in effect the Like To have been obtained for a—Queen. A Garland of the rarest Flowers on Earth, The choicest to the Eye, and to the Sent, Set with such Fruits the season of the year Affords not in this Climb, And it must have The virtue of continuing ever fresh, As long as you remain constant in love. This is the Task, which if you can obtain. By all the Faith in Woman, and that Justice Which punisheth all Perjurers, I vow Thou shalt embrace all thy desires in me. Of all the Earth produceth, that are choice: If I, or any one that sees it, can Call any Flower by a Name, not there, You not perform your Enterprise. Will you undertake it? I will not move in any other labour, It shall be both my Business and my Pleasures: With my best duty let me kiss your hands. I shall not needs to doubt, to enjoy your love When I have done it? May that Beauty which you adore in me, Be blasted, but— My Lord, your pardon. Fie Brother, understand your self; and as you have taken on Dignity, so put on Gravity, or you will prove ridiculous. Pray my Lord do you speak to him, happily he will endure reproof from you. Thou art all wildness, that nothing I think will tame, but a long Voyage, and unfortunate. Oh Julia, I do think upon thy poor afflicted Brother, Good Gentleman, that he should place his love so dis astrously. I wonder how he does? I hope he did not spend his time so ill In the University at Wittemberg, But he ha learned so much Philosophy, To tame those headstrong Passion. Alas poor Wench, dost thou believe there can be such and Art? Such a Report there goes, but I hold fabulous. Would that were my worst fear. Enter Doril. Look where he comes. Julia leave me, I'll hold confe rence with him, and by delays seek to wear out his Sorrow. Why kneel you Dorilus? Thou dost astonish me: would I could call This any thing but Truth, a Dream, a Vision, With Terrors following it, enough to sink me Deeper in Earth then I am now above it. When Flora strives to deck the Earth with Flowers, She never showed half such variety. Good Dorilus leave me a while to think, And to collect my self, and then return. Why did these Flowers grow? to blush for me? Or do they blush, because they have wrought my shame? Why did not Storms and North winds nip your Buds, And killed ye, ere you showed the Sun your Leaves? Why did not Lightnings blast ye? Beasts or Worms Pluck up your Roots, and make you fit for Fire? There you had showed more glorious then here: For here you bring, under so many Colours, A show of Sweetness, that will breed the Plague, And run infectiously into our Bloods. For if I fallen, what Woman will be honest? Or being so, what's he that will believe it? It's not to be bestowed Sir, it's to be bought, And at a deer Rate too. A pretty Toy must buy it. It will not fade Sir, it will keep too long I fear, for you to Like it. Oh, there are Serpents in't, and ugly Toad S, That burst and shed their poison; not a Flower, But bears a sting in it, that wounds my heart: Foul Lust and Murder, that does follow it, Lies hid amongst the Leaves. Oh throw me Sir, Throw me from your Embraces, as far as the wild winds Does driven the Dust before it, and destroy me. Like it to nothing: Purge your Land, by making Bonfires of it and me upon some Hill, That the black Smoke may vanish into Air. And not infect your Turrets. First kill me Sir, it will be Charity, Then rip my Bosom up, and in my Heart There you shall find what my Tongue loathes to utter. If I were sure that breath should be my last, You should not then entreat me; but receive it, Hoping you will be merciful, and kill me. There is a Gentleman, nam Dorilus, That loved me before you saw me, and I him, Although I never gave him any hope: Upon the Wedding day he met me here, And looked so Like a man that meant to perish, That I was willing to restore some comfort; Whereon I wished him get me such a Garland, Made of all Flowers that the World contains, Not thinking such a thing could have been done, And for Requital promised him—I cannot Utter no more, nor should have thought so much. All? would you more? would you we should proceed? Grow impudent in sin, till Thunder rend us? But the damnation must be mine, my Lord, And if I pull it on me, shall this way, Rather then wronging you. No more Sir. I with l. I know not whither I am greater blessed Or cursed in such a Husband: Fate thou hast thy ends, And I have mine. Come Dorilus, and take me Now whilst I have Obedience: Give me not respite, to enter into Considerations, Lest I do worse then perform my Vow. He comes—Welcome my Dorilus, be merry man, And look upon me as a Lover should, That ha obtained his Mistress: I am thine, And for the time free, as I am the Dukes. Be bold man in approaching, there's no fear Of Spies upon us; we are free, as people That know no Laws, or do command the Laws: I have the Dukes consent for what I do, Nay, his entreaty: he does Like to have A Ryuall in the thing he loves, and is Not different from the common sort of men, That do esteem them most, that most abuse them. Why Dorilus? With our Loves, it's true: But there's no harm in that, for heel be secret, As I have Life, he will. I donnot: for as I have a Soul, I'm serious, He bid me keep my Vow; and said, the Man That did bestow this Garland, did deserve— I, to enjoy me. Oh no; he did it for my quiet: he will sooner Strike his own eye, to offend it, nay, his heart, Rather then mine. Oh stay, let me not be so wretched, but to pay The alms of a true heart, thanks for your bounty, Which hath been greater then I can requite. Now I do love thee Dorilus as deer As thy own mistress virtue. And I beseech thee Deprive us not thy presence at the Court, For I will live to study a reqitall, And the Duke with me, that shall know thy worth, And find it in thy deeds, shall entertain thee, And in his bosom fix thee a true friend: Thou shalt not go unless thou promise me, I may receive and welcome thee at Court, With tears of joy I love thee. Sir, I have a suit to you. To know this Gentleman, and if not for my sake, For his own to grace him, he has deserved it. What do you mean Sir. Let it be so, and let that mountain Fallen, And all the world, with his displeasure on me, But hidden in the ruin, yet at last It is my comfort, I shall be found my self. I should wrong much noblesse to think otherwise. They are welcome. You amaze me, first to hear you— Why here, close by thee, now I touch thee. Nothing but that I do desire to die, For it is sin enough that the Duke thinks I am guilty of the fact, all the Clemency That you can, show me or I do desire, Is to condemn me quickly. Place your thanks here kind sister, for to his skill. Next under Heaven, it must be attributed. I'll warrant you. How? Oh my Lord, A gaurd. I beseech your grace. Yes, good my Lord his pardon? Good my Lord. Why here is Dorrilus. Sir, I thank you, but I return him back, As fittest for your service. For that which I join with them too. Lord Raimond's life, banish him the Court, And let him be confined to his house i'th country. And me. Lay hands upon him for a forcerer. This will be good mirth I hope. A couple of pretty scribes. The Duke calls to see the Epistles. Since you command me, I'll not fail to offer, My service to my Sovereign and you. You have my land Sir. Be it so; for life is wearisome sister, do you love Do you? Show it then; for till you satisfy me in my re quest, I shall make doubt of it. Here's a Gentleman to whom I owe, More then my parents gave me, more then If Fortune should look up and smile, Prove a prodigal in favors to me; And I should live to take them with this hand, And with this, pay it as endue Tribute unto him See how he languishes, can take no rest, No food, but thoughts which nourish him, And sighs again for you, drinks his own tears, And weeps them forth again, yet does not call you cruel, Pray speak to him. That is Frederick's voice. Not I. Very likely. Frederick by the voice. I do feel a hand. Right. As plain as the earth we tread on. To all. He has rubbed it out it seems.