Should be avoided than infectious air, A prisoner for it. Load me with those irons And chuse my dwelling where no sun dares enter, So he may be released. 1 Cred. What mean you, sir? Your favours should be lost. Besides, it has been 2 Advo. Only your fee again: There's so much One boon that parted with it. And, to confirm said Already in this cause, and said so well, That, should I only offer to speak in it, I should not be heard, or laughed at for it. 1 Cred. 'Tis the first money advocate e'er gave back, "Though he said nothing. Roch. Be advised, young lord, And well considerate; you throw away That is not sensible of it, with which a wise man From these men's malice, and break ope the prison, Nov. sen. Let him alone: Your grace towards me, against all such as may Detract my actions and life hereafter, I now prefer it to you. Du Croy. Speak it freely. Roch. I then desire the liberty of Romont, And that my lord Novall, whose private wrong Was equal to the injury that was done To the dignity of the court, will pardon it, Nov. sen. Pray you demand The moiety of my estate, or any thing Roch. Am I denied then-my first and last request? Du Croy. It must not be. 2 Pre. I have a voice to give in it. 3 Pre. And I. If he love cords, a God's name, let him wear them, And, if persuasion will not work him to it, Provided these consent. Char. I hope they are not So ignorant in any way of profit, As to neglect a possibility To get their own, by seeking it from that 3 Cred. What think you of the offer? 1 Cred. Accept it by all means: Let us shut him up; He is well shaped, and has a villainous tongue, Du Croy. What's your answer? 1 Cred. Why, let our executions, That lie upon the father, be returned Upon the son, and we release the body. Nov. sen. The court must grant you that. They have in it confirmed on me such glory, [Exit Charalois, Creditors, and Officers. We will make known our power. Nov sen. You are too violent; You shall have my consent. But would you had Made trial of my love in any thing But this, you should have found then-But it skills not. You have what you desire. Roch. I thank your lordships. Du Croy. The court is up-Make way. [Exeunt all but Rochfort and Beaumont. Roch. I follow you-Beaumont ! Beaum. My lord? Roch. You are a scholar, Beaumont, And can search deeper into the intents of men, Than those that are less knowing. How appeared The piety and brave behaviour of Young Charalois to you? Beaum. It is my wonder, Since I want language to express it fully; Roch. Fie! he was faulty.-What present Beaum. There is no want Of any sum a private man has use for. I am strangely taken with this Charalois ; Prince-like, to will, not ask a courtesy. [Ereunt. SCENE I. ACT II. Enter PONTALIER, MALOTIN and Beaumont. Malot. 'Tis strange. Pont. In a man but young, Yet old in judgment; theorick and practick, For since the clock did strike him seventeen old, And men more barbarous to execute it, That he had rather die alive for debt Of the old man in prison, than they should Beaum. True! for my part, were it my father's trunk, The tyrannous ram-heads with their horns should gore it, Or cast it to their curs, than they less currish, What price bears honour? virtue? Long ago And from this prison 'twas the son's request, See the young son enters alive the grave. And gliding softly with our windy sighs, Whose cruelty denied thee rest in death: I thank you for this last and friendly love ; All means of thee her son, but last thyself, Thy worth, in every honest breast, builds one, Char. Peace! O peace! This scene is wholly mine. What! Weep ye, soldiers?-Blanch not. Romont weeps. Ha! let me see! my miracle is eased : Be these thy body's balm: These and thy virtue 1 Cred. Would they so? We'll keep them to stop bottles then. Rom. No, keep them for your own sins, you rogues, Till you repent; you'll die else, and be damned. 2 Cred. Damned, ha! ha! ha! Rom. Laugh ye? 2 Cred. Yes, faith, sir; we would be very glad To please you either way. 1 Cred. You are never content, Crying nor laughing. Rom. Both with a birth, ye rogues. 2 Cred. Our wives, sir, taught us. Rom. Look, look, you slaves! your thankless cruelty, And savage manners of unkind Dijon, Exhaust these floods, and not his father's death. 1 Cred. 'Slid, sir! what would you, you're so cholerick! 2 Cred. Most soldiers are so, in faith.-Let him alone. They've little else to live on; we have not had 3 Cred. 'Slight, would you have our hearts? For all our money. Priest. On. Char. One moment more, But to bestow a few poor legacies, All I have left in my dead father's right, Charm bulls, bears, and men more savage,to be mutè. 1 Cred. No farther! look to them at your own peril. 2 Cred. No, as they please :-Their master's a good man. I would they were at the Bermudas. Jailor. You must no farther. The prison limits you, and the creditors Rom. Out, you wolfish mongrels! Whose brains should be knocked out, like dogs in July, Lest your infection poison a whole town. Char. They grudge our sorrow.-Your ill wills, perforce, Turn now to charity: They would not have us SCENE II. Enter BEAUMELLE, FLORIMEL, and BELLAPERT, And I have done. Captain, wear thou these See Flora trimmed in her varieties. spurs, That yet ne'er made his horse run from a foe. Bella. Oh divine lord! Nov. jun. No autuma nor no age ever ap proach This heavenly piece, which nature having wrought, Lilad. Uds-light, my lord, one of the purls of your band Is, without all discipline, fallen out of his rank. Nov. jun. How? I would not for a thousand crowns she had seen it. Dear Liladam, reform it. Bella. Oh lord! Per se, lord! Quintessence of honour! she walks not under a weed that could Wounded and hacked ye were, but never felled. deny thee any thing. My root is earthed, and I, a desolate branch, SONG. Fie! cease to wonder! Though you hear Orpheus, with his ivory lute, Mote trees and rocks, Beaumel. Prythee peace, wench! thou dost but blow the fire that flames too much already. [Liladam and Aymer trim Novall, whilst Bellapert her lady. Aymer. By gad, my lord, you have the divinest taylor in Christendom; he hath made you look like an angel in your cloth of tissue doublet. Pont. This is a three-legged lord: There is a fresh assault. Oh! that men should spend time thus!-See, see how her blood drives to her heart, and strait vaults to her cheeks again. Malot. What are these? Pont. One of them there, the lower, is a good, foolish, knavish, sociable gallimaufry of a man, and has much caught my lord with singing; he is master of a music house. The other is his dres Pont. If my lord deny, they deny; if he affirm, they affirm: They skip into my lord's cast skins some twice a year; and thus they live to eat, eat to live, and live to praise my lord. Malot. Good sir, tell me one thing. Pont. What's that? Malot. Dare these men ever fight on any cause? Pont. Oh, no, 'twould spoil their cloaths, and put their bands out of order. Nov. jun. Must you hear the news: Your father has resigned his presidentship to my lord my father Malot. And lord Charalois undone for ever. A braver hope of so assured a father Lilad. A good dumb mourner. Not. jun. Oh, fie upon him, how he wears his cloaths! As if he had come this Christmas from St Omers, To see his friends, and returned after twelf-tide. Lilad. His colonel looks finely like a drover. Nov. jun. That had a winter lain perdue in the rain. Aymer. What, he that wears a clout about his neck? His cuffs in his pocket, and his heart in his mouth? Nov. jun. I thus recant; yet now your hand looks white, Because your lips robbed it of such a right. SONG. [Music. Thou art sad of late,-come cheer thee; I have found A wholesome remedy for these maiden fits, Fate hath wronged love, and will destroy me too. [Exit Beaumelle. Enter ROMONT and Keeper. Rom. Sent you for me, sir? Why I did wish you hither, noble sir, Rom. Reverend sir, I have observed you, and do know you well; And bears as rich caparaisons. I know Snuffs other's titles, lordships, offices, At whose great helm he sits. Helps he the poor As if, when nature made him, she had made Touching the general, the brave general, dead! Roch. Sir! He was immortal-though I vow I grieve, Roch. They do not. Of dying, sir, they do not, but all die, Roch. Sweet and gentle Nature! Char. Nothing, my lord. Roch. Nothing is quickly granted. That nothing granted is even all I have, Rom. My lord, I am not stubborn: I can melt, For all know I have nothing left to grant. you see, And prize a virtue better than my life: Roch. Oh! be temperate; Sir, though I would persuade, I'll not constrain; Beaum. These men, sir, wait without; my Roch. Pay them those sums upon the table; Their full releases :-Stay-I want a witness: The deed shall make this my request more plain. Rom. I shall obey your pleasure, sir, though ignorant To what it tends. [Exeunt Romont and Servant. Enter CHARALOIS, Roch. Worthiest sir, You are most welcome: Fie, no more of this: You have out-wept a woman, noble Charalois! No man but has or must bury a father. Char. Grave sir! I buried sorrow for his death In the grave with him. I did never think | Roch. Sir, have you any suit to me? I'll grant You something, anything. Char. Nay, surely, I, that can Give nothing, will but sue for that again. I see in you, so much resembling his, Char. How ill, sir, it becomes those hairs to mock! Roch. Mock? thunder strike me then. But you shall wonder too; I will not take Enter ROMONT, BEAUMONT, and Creditors, Roch. Here is your friend, Enfranchised ere you spake. I give him you: And, Charalois, I give you to your friend, As free a man as he: Your father's debts Are taken off. |