VALENTINE

I know it, And my best sister, you as deer to my sighed, And pray let this confirm it, how you have governed My poor state in my absence, how my servants, I dare and must believe, else I should wrong you, The best and worthiest. For the poor boys lose, I have brought a noble friend, I found in travel A worthier mind, and a more temperate spirit If J have so much judgement to discern they, Man yet was never master of. A Gentleman, I do assure my self, And of a worthy breeding, though he hide it: I found him at Valentiam, poor and needy, Only his mind the master of a treasure. I sought his friendship, won him by much violence, His honesty and modesty still fearing To thrust a charge upon me; how I love him, He shall now know, where want and he hereafter Shall be no more companions: use him nobly, It is my will, good sister, all I have J make him free companion in, and partly er, But only What, Monsieur Hylas, I 'me glad to see your merry body well yet. None, but new men expected, such as you are To breed new admirations: it's my sister, Pray you know her sir. What, the old squire of dams still? My loving, and kind cousin, A thousand welcomes. I thank e: But where's my blessed Cellide? her slackness In visitation. You have given me too much comfort. It is so, and a bait you cannot balk sir, If your old rule reign in you, you may know her. A happy stock you have, right worthy Lady, The poorest of your servants, vows his duty And obliged faith. Oh my deer life, my better heart, all dangers, Distresses in my travel, all misfortunes, Had they been endless Like the hours upon me, In this kiss, had been buried in oblivion: How happy have you made me, truly happy? Oh dearest: My noble friend too: what a blessedness Have I about me now? how full my wishes Are come again, a thousand hearty welcomes I once more lay upon you: all I have, The fair and liberal use of all my servants To be at your command, and all the uses Of all within my power. You wrong my tender love now, even my service, Nothing accepted, nothing stuck between us And our entire affections, but this woman, This I beseech you friend. Yes: with me Sir. A great deal better: Why do you blush? the Gentleman will do well. How do's his Father? The air, The sharp and nipping air of our new clymat I hope is all, which will as well restore To health again th'affected body by it, And make it stronger far, as leave it dangerous; How do's my sweet, our blessed hour comes on now Apace my Cellide, (it knocks at door) In which our loves, and long desires Like rivers Rising asunder far, shall fallen together, Within these too days deer. He sweats extremely: Hight, very hight: his pulse beats Like a drum now, Feel sister, feel, feel sweet. My gown there. This is most unhappy, Take courage man, it's nothing but and ague. May all I have restore him? So dearly and so tenderly I love him, I do not know the cause why, yea my life too. 'Twas that I only feared: good friend go from me, I find my heart too full for further conference: You are assured of this? I shall do, and I thank you: pray you no words on't, I do not use to talk sir. Exit. Go comfort him deer sister. Exit Alice. And one word sweet, with you: then we'll go to him. What think you of this Gentleman? It is indeed: but Cellide, he must die. He may, but with much danger: my sweet Cellide You have a powerful tongue. J will betray his grief: he loves a gentlewoman, A friend of yours, whose heart another holds, He knows it too: yet such a sway blind fancy, And his not daring to deliver it, Have wone upon him, that they must undo him: Never so hopeful and so sweet a spirit, Misfortune fell so foul on. Not yet. When she please. His love may merit much: his person little, For there the match lies mangled. You have posed me. She do's, and would do equal: But will you deal effectually? What shall I do? Of my afflicted heart: she is gone for ever. Would; sayest thou so? nay then thou shalt not perish. Oh cruel Woman. Excellent Friend. Oh miracle. Take her withal my heart, thou art so honest That 'tis most necessary I be undone. Be not uncivil Tom, and take your pleasure. Do your best. HE cannot go and take no farewell of me, Can he be so unkind? he's but retired Into the Garden or the Orchard: see sirs. Ride, nay then, Had he horse out? He's gone, My bestfriends gone Alice? I have lost the noblest,, The truest, and the most man I ere found yet. He deserved it. Good morrow master Michael. Would? Dream? I know not, Dream of a Nunnery? I bear they till I break again. Good neighbours, no more of it, You do but fling flax on my fire: where is she? Farewell, I cannot speak it. Exit Ʋ all. What should I do friend? But my friend then Whose love and lose is equal tied. Oh but I forced her to it. I will home then, And follow your advice, and good, good Michael. Lady, You are met most happily: Oh gentle Doll, You must now do me and especial favour. I'll tell you, And let it move you equally: my blessed Mistress Upon a slight occasion taking anger, Took also (to undo me) your Ants Nunnery, From whence by my persuasion to redeem her, Will be impossible: nor have I liberty To come, and visit her: my good, good Dorothy, You are most powerful with her, and your Aunt too, And have access at all hours liberally, Speak now, or never for me. You will not break? Good night kind Mistress Doll. Exit. Do not wrong me, I met you, by my life, just as you entered This gentle Ladies Lodge last night, thus suited About eleven a clock. I thank you. squeak within. You have done a friendship Worthy the love you bear me. Oh he's a worthy young man. My happy Mistress too: now Fortune help me, And all you stars, that govern chased desires Shin fair, and lovely. As I love my soul, Sir. And shall do still. These Jewels; I have known. Sure, I have known these Jewels. Good heaven, that they were. And all the worldly bliss that heaven can send me, And all my prayers and thanks. My best friend still: my dearest: now heaven bless thee And make me worthy of this benefit. Now my best Mistress. And may it prosper, Take her Francisco: now no more young Callidon, And love her dearly, for thy father do's so. Why how now Mistress Thomas? Now presently, and there with nuptial. The holy Priest shall make you happy all. But good Alice Tell me how fares the gentle Cellide, The life of my affection, since my travel, My long, and lazy travel? is her love still Upon the growing hand? do's it not stop And wither at my years? has she not viewed And entertained some younger smooth behaviour Some youth but in his blossom, as her self is? There lies my fears. Oh no more good sister, Touch no more that string, it's too harsh and jarring. With that child all my Hope's went, and you know The root of all those Hope's, the mother too Within few days. For her lose I hope, the beauteous Cellide. You are noble, Pray be acquainted with her, keep your way sir, My cousin and my sister. Come no more compliment: custom has made it Dull, old, and tedious: you are once more welcome, As your own thoughts can make you, and the same ever. And so we'll in to ratify it. I looked for't: Shall we enjoy your company? We bar all prayers. Exeunt all but Hylas. All that may be: It shall be no blind wedding: and all the joy Of all our friends I hope: he looks worse hourly: How do's my friend, my self? he sweats too coldly, His pulse, Like the slow dropping of a spowt, Scarce gives his function: how i'st man, alas sir, You look extreme ill: is it any old grief, The weight of which? I knew the cause to be so. Come, lead him in, he shall to bed: a vomit, I'll have a vomit for him. No, no, no bleeding, A Clyster will cool all. Away to's chamber, Softly, he's full of pain, be diligent With all the care you have: would I had scused him. Exeunt You are welcome: Is there no constancy in earthly things: No happiness in us, but what must altar, No life without the heavy load of fortune? What Misery's we are, and to our selves, Even then when full content seems to fit by us, What daily sores, and sorrows? He should be, for he is near me. Dear Cellide. Why let him die then. And I my crosses. Exeunt. Go to him friend, and comfort him: I'll lead you: Oh my best joy, my worthiest friend, ptay pardon me, I am so overjoyed I want expression: I may live to be thankful: bid your friends welcome. All sister, All, all, and all too little: Oh that honesty, That ermine honesty, unspotted ever, That perfect goodness. Oh never, never, Never return, thou knowest not where the cause lies. I will tell thee, Within this hour, things that shall startle thee. He never must return. Enter Michael. I think she do's. Did she not cry out, 'twas my folly too That forced her to this Nunnery? did she not curse me? For God sake speak: did you not dream of me too, How basely, poorly, tamely, Like a fool, Tired with h his joys? Say he come back To piece his poor friends life out? and my mistress Be vowed for ever a recluse? Can you forget me? Did not you promise all your help and cunning In my behalf, but for one hour to see her, Did you not swear it? by this hand, no strictness Nor rule this house holds, shall by me, be broken. Nothing but mirth now, friends. And could you be so pitiful? Oh my dearest, Let but your goodness judge: your own partly: pitiy: Set but your eyes on his afflictions: He is mine, and so becomes your charge: but think What ruin nature suffers in this young man, What lose humanity, and noble manhood: Take to your better judgement my declining, My age, hung full of impotence, and ils, My body budding now no more: seere winter Hath sealed that sap up, at the best and happiest I can but be your infant: you my nurse, And how unequal dearest: where his years, His sweetness, and his ever spring of goodness, My Fortune's growing in him, and my self too, Which makes him all your old love: misconceive not, I say not this, as weary of my bondage, Or ready to infringe my faith: bear witness, Those eyes that I adore still, those lamps that light me To all the joy I have. It may be then It is your self