NED BRABANT

Good speed thee my good sweet Planet, How dost thou Chuck? Ho at the glittering Court my Pytheas. Why lane in my Ladies lap, eat, drink, & sleep. Still, I still, and still, I in eternity. Love hath no reason. Oh my Camelia is love it self. Plague on your hateful humour, out vppont, Why should your stomach be so queasy now, As to bespawle the pleasures of the world? Why should you run and Idle counter-course Thwart to the path of fashion? Come your reason? Oh you are buried in Philosophy, And there intombd in supernaturalls, You are dead to native pleasures life. Along with me then, you droming Sagbut, I'll bring thee to a Crew. Faith if you have any weight of judgement, you may easily found what depth of wits they draw, theres first my elder brother. Indeed his Jests are Like Indian beef, they will not last, and yet he powders them soundly with his own laughter. Then theres the Goatish Frenchman, Mounsieur John foe de King, knows thou him? He is a faithful pure Rogue. Then theres John Else, and profound toungd Master Puff, he that hath a perpetuity of compliment, he whose phrases are as neatly decked as my Lord Majors Hensmen, he whose throat squeaks Like a Triple Organ, and speaks as small and shrill, as the Irishmen cry Pip, fine Pip. And when his perjod comes not roundly off, takes tole of the tenth hair of his Bourbon lock: as thus. Sweet Sir, repute me as a (Puff) selected spirit born to be the admirer, of your never enough admired (Puff). Here at this Tavern. Gods precious, I forgotten to bring my Page, To breathe some Ditty in my Mistress ear. No, but a Song. How wouldst thou court thy Mistress? Right dog, well thoult swear, that I am blessed Beyond infinity of happiness, When thou beholdest admired Camelia. O when she clips, and clings about my neck, And sucks my soul forth with a melting kiss. Oh I, and calls me deer, deer Brabant, and (o J sum God) I cannot express her sweets of entertain, Sheele so insinuate with chaste amorous speech, And play the wanton with such pretty grace, And vows love to me: O I'll make thee mad To see how gracious Brabant's in her eye. Here is her window, mark but when I call, How swift she comes, and with what kind salutes She welcomes me. What ho Camelia? Faith yowl be taken up, what in bed so late? Heart they hear not: My Camelia wake? Winifride 'tis I. Tell my sweet Duck I am here, Now mark Ned Planet, now observe her well. Flesh and blood cannot bear such disgrace. By this light not I. What are you thinking on now? Heart, how chance he is out of his similes? I wonder who would be the fool then? Heart Sir Edward, will you suffer this? Now on my life she is enamord on the fools babble. Why he's no man, but a very— What shall we observe you for? Out he is indeed. My Mistress is turned Bucephalus, no body must ride her but Alexander: no body kiss her but John Else. Now stand and list good Planet. Death I can holder: Life of love Amazing beauty, let not me seem rude, Though thus I seem to square with modesty. Astonishment of Nature, be not proud Of Forunes bounties: Brabant is a man, Though not so clogged with dirt as others are: I do confess my younger brothership; Yet therein lay no such disparagement As your high scorn imputes unto my worth. Coach Jades and Dogs, are coupled still together, Only for outward likeness, growth and strength, But the bright models of eternity, Are joined together for affection, Which in the soul is form'de. O let this move, Love should make marriage, and not marriage Love. How not presume to love or fancy you? Heart, I will love you, by this light I will Whither you will or no, I'll love you still. Spite of your teeth I will your love pursue, I will by heaven, and so sweet soul adieu. Brother how Like you of our modern wits? How Like you the new Poet Mellidus? What think you of the Lines of Decius? Writes he not a good cordial sappy style? Nay brother, now I think your judgement erres. No faith, but see you tell us true, or else. Farewell brother, we shall meet at Hygate soon. Faith I know not, but I herd he left the Frenchman with his wife. Not a whit, she's a mere stranger to this merriment. What might this mean, that Winifrid salutes The blunt tongu'de Planet, with such private speech? See with what vehemence she seems to urge Some private matter. Planet is my friend, And yet the strongest link of friendship's strainde, When female love puts to her mighty strength. Mark, Mark, she offers him Camelias scarf: Now on my life 'tis so: Planet supplants my Love. I, I, content: o hell to my delight, My friend will murder me, thin Cobweb Lawn Burst with each little breath of tempting sweets. Winifride speaks from within. She intreats you M. Planet, to meet Her at the Cross style. Would, at the cross style, well I'll meet him there. He thats perfidious to me in my love, Confusion take him, and his blood be spilled Without confusion to the murderer. So load it soundly, murders great with me, Go Boy, discharge it, even in Planets breast, Shoot him quite through, & through, thou canst not sin To murder him, that murdered his deer friend With damned breach of friendship, when he is slain Bring me his Cloak and Hat, here I will stay To be imbrac'de in steed of Planet: go, away. Exit Boy. I had rather die with blood upon my head, Shame and reproach clogging my heavy hour, Then to-have my friend still wounding of my soul With reprobate Apostacisme in love. Oh this Sophisticate friendship, that dissolves With every heat of Fancy, let it melt Even in Hells Forge Hark, the Pistol is discharg'de, The Act of gory murder is performd'e. Have mercy heaven: o my soul is rend Enter the Page. With Planets wound. Come Boy the Hat and Cloak, Go post to Scotland, there are crowns for thee, Leave Brabant unto death, and obloquy. Exit Page. Why now the ulcerous swelling of my hate Is broken forth: O that these women's beauty's, This Nature's witchcraft, should inchant our souls So infinitely unrecoverable, That Hell, death, shame, eternal infamy, Cannot reclaim our desperate resolves, But we will on spite of damnation. Enter Camelia and Winifride. Come you poor garments of my murdered friend, Mourn that you are compelled to hide his limbs That slew you Master. See Camelia comes, I'll stand thus muffled and deceive her sighed, When love makes head, friendship is put to flight. Oh the sting of death, how hath Brabant erred? Hence thou vile womb of my damnation, O thou wronged spirit of my murdered friend, Thou guiltless, spotless, pure Immaculate, Behold this arm thrusting swift vengeance Into the Trunk of a cursed damnde wretch. Now have I room for murder, this vast place, Hushed silence, and dumb solitude, are fit To be observers of my Tragedy. Planet accept the smoke of reeking blood To expiate thy murder. Friend I come, Weel troop together to Elizium. Forbear good knight, you never sinned so deep, As in detaining this joust vengeance To light upon me, but know I will die, I have infring'de the laws of God and Man, In shedding of my Planets guiltless blood, Who I supposed corryuald me in love Of that Camelia, but injuriously: And therefore gentle knight, let mine own hand Be mine own hangman. You'll get my pardon, brother pardon me, You shall not, for I'll die in spite of thee. Would, dost thou breathe, lets see where is thy wound? 'Tis a good gentle Audience, and I hope the Boys Will come one day into the Court of requests. Let Music found, for I have often herd It hath such sweet agreement with our souls, That it corrects vain humours, and recalls His straggling fancies to fair union. Mark with what passion he sucks up the sweets Of this fame delicate harmonious breath. We must know whats in the bag I'faith.