FRANCIS

You are too munificent, Nor am I able to conceive those thanks sir. It is a jewel I do confess would make a thief, but never Of him that's so much yours, and bound your servant, That were a base ingratitude. I do Tom. What, new work? All this forced foolery will never do it. The poor servant Of both your goodnesses presents his service. None, gentle sir, that I feel Your love is too too tender. Nay believe sir, It's a joy to be ill, Where such a virtuous fair Physician Is ready to relieve: your noble cares I must, and ever shall be thankful for, And would my service (I dare not look upon her) But be not fearful, I feel nothing dangerous, A grudging caused by the alteration Of air, may hang upon me: my heart's whole, (I would it were) No, you shall never know it. How that touch stung me? Not by thousands: Now what it's to be truly miserable, I feel at full experience. Good Gentlemen, Good learned Gentlemen. Pray leave me: I beseech you leave me gentlemen. I have no other sickness but your presence, Convey your Cataplasmes to those that needs they, Your Vomits, and your Clysters. Till doomsday: what unnecessary nothings Are these about a wounded mind? What questions they propound too: how do you sir? I am glad to see you well. And can you tell me How old I am then? there's my hand, pray show me How many broken shins within this two year. Who would be thus in fetters, good master Doctor, And you deer Doctor, and the third sweet Doctor And precious master Apothecary, I do pray you To give me leave to live a little longer, You stand before me Like my blacks. Would you were all rotten That you might only intend one another's itches: Or would the Gentlemen with one consent Would drink small Beer but seven year, and abolish That wildfire of the blood, unsatiate wenching That your too Indies, springs and falls might fail you What torments these intruders into bodies. Bless me, what beams Flew from these angel eyes: Oh what a misery What a most studied torment 'tis to me now To be and honest man: dare you fit by me? You are a fair Physician: You bring no bitterness gilded over, to gull us No danger in your looks, yet there my death lies. Of which Lady? Sure she has found my grief? why do you blush so? What heaven you have brought me Lady? A virtuous blessing crown you Oh goodly sweet, can there be so much charity So noble a compassion in that heart That's filled up with another's fair affections? Can mercy drop from those eyes. Can miracles be wrought upon a dead man, When all the power you have, and perfect object Lies in another's light: and his deserves it? Hold for heaven sake, Must my friends misery make me a triumph? Bear I that noble name, to be a Traitor? Oh virtuous goodness, keep thy self untainted: You have no power to yield, nor he to render Nor I to take: I am resolved to die first. And though I love you above the light shines on me, Beyond the wealth of Kingdoms, free content, Sooner would snatch at such a blessing offered Then at my pardoned life by the law forfeited, Yet, yet Oh noble beauty, yet Oh paradise For you are all the wonder revealed of it, Yet is a gratitude to be preserved A worthy gratitude to one most worthy. The name, and nobleness of friends. Do you make a doubt? For virtues sake take heed. This cannot be. Pray stay there: Me thinks you are not fair now; me thinks more That modest, virtue, men delivered of you Shows but Like shadow to me, thin, and fading. You have no share in goodness: You are belied; you are not Cellide, The modest, unaculate: who are you? For I will know: what devil to do mischief Unto my virtuous Friend, hath shifted shapes With that unblemished beauty. Oh double hearted, Oh woman, perfect woman: what distraction Was meant to mankind when thou was't made a devil, What and invyting hell invented? tell me, And if you yet remember what I goodness, Tell me by that, and truth, can one so cherished So sainted in the soul of him, whose service Is almost turned to superstition, Whose every day endeavours, and desires Offer themselves Like incense on your altar, Whose heart holds no int lligence, but holy And most religious with his love; whose life (And let it ever be remembered Lady) Is drawn out only for your ends. Whose all, and every partly of man: pray make me Like ready Pages wait upon y ur pleasures; Whose breath is but your bubble. Can you, dare you, Must you cast of this man, though he were willing, Though in a nobleness, so cross my danger His friendship durst confirm it, without baseness, Without the stain of honour? shall not people Say liberally hereafter, ther's the Lady That lost her Father, Friend, herself, her faith too, To fawn upon a stranger, for ought you know As faithless as your self, in love as fruitless? Good heaven, what is this woman? Whither do you drive me? Is this serious? How Like the Sun Labouring in his eclipse, dark, and prodigious, She showed till now? when having wone her way, How full of wonder he breaks out again, And sheds his virtuous beams: excellent Angel, For no less can that heavenly mind proclaim thee, Honour of all thy sex, let it be lawful, And Like a pilgrim thus I kneel to beg it, Not with profane lips now, nor burned affections, But, reconciled to faith, with holy wishes, To kiss that virgin hand. Goodness guide thee: My wonder Like to fearful shapes in dreams, Has wakened me out of my fit of folly, But not to shake it off: a spell dwells in me, A hidden charm shot from this beauteous woman, That fate can never avoid, nor physic find, And by her counsel strengthened: only this Is all the help I have, I love fair virtue. Well, something I must do, to be a friend, Yet I am poor, and tardy: something for her too, Though I can never reach her excellence, Yet but to give and offer at a greatness. I am o'th mending hand. Thou art a mad companion: never stayed Tom? What hast thou there, a julip? What? I see no harm Tom, Drink with a moderation. Sir, I much thank you, And shall be careful: yet a glass or two So fit I find my body, and that so needful. Do, I'll pledge thee. Now or never gentlemen, Do me a kindness and deliver me. From these things, that talk within there, Physicians, Tom, Physicians, scouring-sticks, They mean to read upon me. My learned Tom. Pray you thank they, And tell they my most sickness is their absence: You see my company. My best visitants, I shall be governed by you. What a strange fellow's this? Yes, it's a gentleman's that's much afflicted In's mind: great pity Ladies. He came to me, to ask free pardon of me, For some things done long since, which his distemper Made to appear Like wrong, but 'twas not so. How exactly This cunning young thief plays his partly. Oh you grand Ass. Gone; she found you out, and finely, In your own nooze she haltered you: you must be whispering To know how things showed: not content to fare well But you must roar out rost meat; till that suspicion You carried it most neatly, she believed too And wept most tenderly; had you continued, Without doubt you had brought her off. Good night, 'tis almost bed time: yet no sleep Must enter these eyes, till I work a wonder. Exit. A boat, a boat, a boat. Whither are you bound friends? May I have passage for my money? Then merrily aboard, and noble friend Heavens goodness keep thee ever, and all virtue Dwell in thy bosom Cellide, my last tears J leave behind me thus, a sacrifice, For I dare stay no longer to betray you. Fellow? I do obey you: But I beseech you sir, inform me truly How I am guilty. It shall be so, and here I'll end all Misery's, Since friendship is so cruel, I confess it, And which is more, a hundred of these robberies: This Ring I stole too from him: and this jewel The first and last of all my wealth: forgive me My innocence and truth, for saying I stole they, And may they prove of valve but to recompense The thousand partly of his love, and bred I have eaten. Pray see they rendered noble sir, and so I yield me to your power. How you please sir, I am resolved, nor can a joy or misery Much move me now. Faith sir, my rest is up, And what I now pull, shall no more afflict me Then if I played at span-counter, nor is my face The map of any thing I seem to suffer, Lighter affections seldom dwell in me sir. Yes: Oh my Fortune. Now I'll tell you, Because blind fortune yet may make me happy, Of whom I had they, I have never herd yet, But from my infancy, upon this arm I ever wore'em. None That J know yet: the more my stubborn fortune, But as J herd a Merchant say that bred me, Who, to my more affliction, died a poor man, When J reached eighteen years. He said, and infant, in the Genoway Galleys. But from what place he never could direct me. I was taken in a sea-fight, and from a Mariner, Out of his manly pity he redeemed me. He told me of a Nurse that waited on me, But she, poor soul, he said was killed. A letter too, I had enclosed within me, To one Castructio a Venetian Merchant, To bring me up: the man, when years allowed me, And want of friends compelled, I sought, but found him Long dead before, and all my Hope's gone with him. The wars was my retreat then, and my travel In which I found this gentleman's free bounty, For which, heaven recompensed him: now you have all. May all hate seek me else, and thus I seal it.