Act 3
Act 3.
[Enter FLORES, CASSIMERE, LASSINGBERGH, LUCILIA, CORNELIA, HANS, and DOCTOR.]
HANS. Well, mistress, God give you more joy of your husband than your husband has of you.
DOCTOR. Fie, too, too bad by my fait. Vat, my lord? Melancholie? And ha de sweet bride, de faire bride, de very fine bride? Ô monsieur, one, two, tree, voure, vive, with de brave capra, heigh!
HANS. O the Doctor would make a fine frisking usher in a dancing school.
DOCTOR. O by garr, you must dance de brave galliarr. A pox of dis melancholie!
CASSIMERE. My Lord, your humours are most strange to us,
The humble fortune of a servant’s life
Should in your careless state so much displease.
LASSINGBERGH. Quod licet ingratum est, quod non licet acrius urit.
FLORES. Could my child’s beauty move you so, my lord,
When law and duty held it in restraint,
And now (they both allow it) be neglected?
LASSINGBERGH. I cannot relish joys that are enforced;
For, were I shut in Paradise itself,
I should as from a prison strive t’escape.
LUCILIA. Hapless Lucilia, worst in her best estate!
LASSINGBERGH. He seek me out some unfrequented place
Free from these importunities of love,
And only love what mine own fancy likes.
LUCILIA. O stay, my lord.
FLORES. What means Earl Lassingbergh?
CASSIMERE. Sweet Earl, be kinder.
LASSINGBERGH. Let me go, I pray.
DOCTOR. Vat? You go leave a de bride? ‘Tis no point good fashion; you must stay, be garr.
LASSINGBERGH. Must I stay, sir?
DOCTOR. I spit your nose, and yet it is no violence. I will give a de prove a dee good reason. Reguard, Monsieur: you no point eat a de meat today, you be de empty; be gar you be empty, you be no point vel; be garr you be vere sick, you no point leave a de provision; be garr you stay, spit your nose.
LASSINGBERGH. All stays have strength like to thy arguments.
CASSIMERE. Stay, Lassingbergh.
LUCILIA. Dear Lord.
FLORES. Most honoured Earl.
LASSINGBERGH. Nothing shall hinder my resolved intent,
But I will restless wander from the world
Till I have shaken off these chains from me. [Exit LASSINGBERGH.]
LUCILIA. And I will never cease to follow thee
Till I have won thee from these unkind thoughts.
CASSIMERE. Hapless Lucilia! [Exit LUCILIA.]
FLORES. Unkind Lassingbergh!
DOCTOR. Be garr, dis Earl be de choleric complexion, almost skipshack, be garr: he no point stay for one place. Madame, me be no so laxative; mee be bound for no point move six, seaven, five hundra yeare from you sweet sidea; be garr, me be as de fine Curianet about your vite neck; my hart be close tie to you as your fine busk or de fine gartra boute your fine leg.
HANS. A good sensible Doctor; how feelingly he talks.
DOCTOR. A plague a de Marshan! Blow wind!
HANS. You need not curse him, sir; he has the storms at sea by this time.
DOCTOR. O forte bien! A good sea-sick jeast by this fair hand: blow wind for mee! Puh, he no come heere, Madame.
FLORES. Come, noble Earl, let your kind presence grace
Our feast prepared for this obdurate lord,
And give some comfort to his sorrowful bride
Who in her piteous tears swims after him.
DOCTOR. Me bear you company, signor Flores.
FLORES. It shall not need, sir.
DOCTOR. Be garr, dis be de sweet haven for me for anchor.
FLORES. You are a sweet smell-feast, Doctor; that I see. I’ll no such tub-hunters use my house. Therefore be gone, our marriage feast is dashed.
DOCTOR. Vat speak a me de feast? Me spurn-a, me kick a de feast; be garr, me tell a me do de grand grace, de favour for suppa, for dina, for eata with dee; be garrs blur, we have at home de restorative, de quintessence, de pure destill gold, de Nector, de Ambrosia. Zachary, make ready de fine partrick, depaste de grand Ottamon.
HANS. Zachary is not here, sir, but I’ll do it for you. What is that Ottomon, sir?
DOCTOR. O de grand bayaret de Mahomet, de grand Turgur, be garr.
HANS. O a turkey, sir, you would have rosted, would you? Call you him an Ottoman?
DOCTOR. Have de whole air of fowl at command?
FLORES. You have the fool at command, sir: you might have bestowed yourself better. Will’t please you walk, Mr. Dr. Dodypoll. [Exeunt all but the DOCTOR.]
DOCTOR. How? Doddie poole? Garrs blurr, Doctor Doddie, no point poole. You be paltry Jacke-knave, by garr: de doctor is nicast, de doctor is rage, de doctor is fury, be gar, the doctor is horrible, terrible fury. Vell, derre be a ting me tinke; be gars blur, me know, me be revenge me tella de Duke. Vell, me say no more: chok a de self, foul churl, foul, horrible, terrible pig, pye Cod. [Exit.]
SCENE 2.
LEANDER. I wonder what variety of sights
Retains your father and the prince so long
With signor Flores?
HYANTHE. O signor Flores is a man so ample
In every compliment of entertainment,
That guests with him are, as in bowers enchanted,
Reft of all power and thoughts of their return. [Enter the DUKE and HARDENBERGH.]
LEANDER. Be silent, here’s the Duke.
ALPHONSO. Aye me, behold
Your son, Lord Hardenbergh, courting Hyanthe.
HARDENBERGH. If he be courting tis for you, my liege.
ALPHONSO. No, Hardenbergh; he loves my son too well
— My faire Hyanthe, what discourse is it
Wherewith Leander holds you this attentive?
Would I could think upon the like for you.
HYANTHE. You should but speak and pass the time, my lord.
ALPHONSO. Pastime that pleaseth you is the use of time:
Had I the ordering of his winged wheel
It only should serve your desires and mine.
What should it do if you did govern it?
HYANTHE. It should go back again and make you young.
ALPHONSO. ‘Swounds, Hardenbergh.
HARDENBERGH. To her again, my lord.
ALPHONSO. Hyanthe, wouldst thou love me, I would use thee
So kindly that nothing should take thee from me.
HYANTHE. But time would soon take you from me, my lord.
ALPHONSO. Spite on my soul: why talk I more of time?
She’s too good for me at time, by heaven.
HARDENBERGH. Ay, and place to (my Lord) I warrant her.
OMNES. Stop, stop, stop! [Enter ALBERDURE, mad; MOTTO and OTHERS following him.]
MOTTO. O stay, my lord.
ALBERDURE. Hyanthe, Hyanthe, ô me, my love!
LEANDER. Here’s the Duke his father, he’ll mar all.
ALBERDURE. O villainy, he that locked her in his arms
And through the river swims along with her.
Stay, traitorous Nessus, give me bows and shafts.
Whir! I have stroke him under the short ribs:
I come, Hyanthe! O peace, weep no more. [Exit.]
ALPHONSO. Means he not me by Nessus, Hardenbergh?
HARDENBERGH. My lord, he is surely mad.
ALPHONSO. Hyanthe loves him:
See how she trembles and how pale she looks!
She hath enchanted my dear Alderbure
With crafts and treasons and most villainous arts
Are means by which she seeks to murder him.
Hardenbergh, take her and imprison her
Within thy house: I will not lose my son
For all the wealth the loves of heaven embrace.
HYANTHE. What means your grace by this?
ALPHONSO. Away with her!
HYANTHE. You offer me intolerable wrong.
ALPHONSO. Away with her, I say.
HARDENBERGH. Come lady, fear not, I’ll entreat you well.
HYANTHE. What injury is this! [Exit HARDENBERGH with HYANTHE.]
ALPHONSO. So now I have obtained what I desired,
And I shall easily work her to my will;
For she is in the hands of Hardenbergh
Who will continually be pleading for me. [Enter DOCTOR.]
DOCTOR. Room! A halle, a hall! Be garr, vere is de Duke?
ALPHONSO. Here, master Doctor.
DOCTOR. O we have grand important matter for tella your grace how de know de cause for de wish cause your son is da madman. [Enter ALBERDURE running.]
ALBERDURE. What? Art thou here? Sweet Clio, come, be bright;
Take me thy timbrel and tobacco pipe,
And give Hyanthe music at her window.
DOCTOR. Garrs blurr, my cap, my cap, cost me de deale a French crown.
ALBERDURE. But I will crown thee with a cod of musk,
Instead of laurel, and a pomander:
But thou must write Acrostignues first, my girl.
DOCTOR. Garzowne, what a pox do you stand here for, de grand poltrone pezant, and see de Doctor be dus?
ALBERDURE. Aye me, what demon was it guide me thus?
This is Melpomene, that Scottish witch,
Whom I will scratch like to some villainous gibb,
And —
DOCTOR. O Garzowne, la diabole, la pestilence, gars blur!
ALPHONSO. Lay hold upon him, help the Doctor there!
ALBERDURE. Then reason’s fled to animals, I see,
And I will vanish like Tobacco smoke. [Exit.]
DOCTOR. A grand pestilence a dis furie.
ALPHONSO. Follow him, sirs, Leander, good Leander!
But, Doctor, canst thou tell us the true cause
Of this sudden frenzy?
DOCTOR. O by garr, pleaze your grace hear de long tale or de short tale?
ALPHONSO. Brief as you can, good Doctor.
DOCTOR. Faite and trot, brief den, very brief, very laccingue. De Prince, your son, feast with de knave jeweller, Flores, and he for make a Prince love a de foule croope-shouldra daughter Cornelia, give a de prince a de love poudra which my selfe give for the wenche a before, and make him stark mad be garr because he drink a too mucha.
ALPHONSO. How know you this?
DOCTOR. Experience teach her, by garr; de poudra have grand force for inflama de blood, too much make a de rage and de present fury: be garr, I fear de mad man as de devilla, garr bless a. [Enter HARDENBERGH.]
ALPHONSO. How now, sweet Hardenbergh?
HARDENBERGH. The Prince, my Lord, in going down the stairs
Hath forced an axe from one of the trevants,
And with it (as he runs) makes such clear way
As no man dare oppose him to his fury.
ALPHONSO. Aye me, what may I do? Here are such news
As never could have entered our free ears
But that their sharpness do enforce a passage.
Follow us, Doctor; ‘tis Flores’ treachery
That thus hath wrought my son’s distemperature. [Exit ALPHONSO.]
HARDENBERGH. Flores, the jeweller?
DOCTOR. Ay, he, dat fine precious stone knave: by garr, I tinke I shall hit upon hir skirt till be thred bare new. [Exit DOCTOR with HARDENBERGH.]
SCENE 3.
[Music playing within. Enter a PEASANT.]
PEASANT. ‘Tis night, and good faith I am out of my way. O hark; What brave music is this under the green hill? [Enter FAIRIES bringing in a banquet.] O dainty, O rare, a banquet! Would to Christ I were one of their guests. God’s ad, a fine little dapper fellow has spied me: What will he do? He comes to make me drink: I thank you, Sir. Some of your victuals, I pray; Sir; nay now keep your meat, I have enough I; the cup, I faith. [Exit. Enter the SPIRIT with banqueting stuff, and missing the peasant, looks up and down for him; the rest wondering at him; to them enters the ENCHANTER.]
ENCHANTER. Where is my precious cup, you antic flames?
Tis thou that hast conveyed it from my bower,
And I will bind thee in some hellish cave
Till thou recover it again for me.
You that are bodies made of lightest air,
To let a peasant mounted on a jade
Cozen your courtesies and run away
With such a jewel, worthy are to endure
Eternal penance in the lake of fire. [Enter LASSINGBERGH and LUCILIA.]
LASSINGBERGH. Wilt thou not cease then to pursue me still?
Should I entreat thee to attend me thus,
Then thou wouldst pant and rest, then thy soft feet
Would be repining at these niggard stones:
Now I forbid thee, thou pursuest like wind,
No tedious space of time nor storm can tire thee.
But I will seek out some high slippery close
Where every step shall reach the gate of death,
That fear may make thee cease to follow me.
LUCILIA. There will I bodiless be when you are there,
For love despiseth death and scorneth fear.
LASSINGBERGH. I’ll wander, where some boisterous river parts
This solid continent, and swim from thee.
LUCILIA. And there I’ll follow, though I drown for thee.
LASSINGBERGH. But I forbid thee.
LUCILIA. I desire thee more.
LASSINGBERGH. Art thou so obstinate?
LUCILIA. You taught me so.
LASSINGBERGH. I see thou lovest me not.
LUCILIA. I know I do.
LASSINGBERGH. Do all I bid thee then.
LUCILIA. Bid then as I may do.
LASSINGBERGH. I bid thee leave me.
LUCILIA. That I cannot do.
LASSINGBERGH. My hate.
LUCILIA. My love.
LASSINGBERGH. My torment.
LUCILIA. My delight.
LASSINGBERGH. Why do I strain to weary thee with words?
Speech makes thee live; I’ll then with silence kill thee,
Henceforth be deaf to thy words and dumb to thy mind.
ENCHANTER. What rock hath bred this savage-minded man?
That such true love in such rare beauty shines!
Long since I pitied her; pity breeds love,
And love commands th’assistance of my art
T’include them in the bounds of my command.
Here stay your wandering steps; chime silver strings,
Chime, hollow caves, and chime you whistling reeds,
For music is the sweetest chime for love.
Spirits, bind him, and let me leave my love.
SCENE 4.
[Enter ALBERDURE at one door, and meets with the PEASANT at the other door.]
ALBERDURE. Hyanthe, ô sweet Hyanthe, have I met thee?
How is thy beauty changed since our departure!
A beard, Hyanthe? Ô tis grown with grief,
But now this love shall tear thy grief from thee.
PEASANT. A pox on you! What are you? ‘Swounds, I think I am haunted with spirits.
ALBERDURE. Weep not, Hyanthe; I will weep for thee,
Lend me thy eyes. No, villainy, thou art he
That in the top of Eruine’s hill
Danced with the moon and ate up all the stars,
Which made thee like Hyanthe shine so fair;
But, villain, I will rip them out of thee. [Enter MOTTO and OTHERS.]
PEASANT. Slid, hold your hands.
ALBERDURE. I come with thunder.
PEASANT. Come and you dare.
MOTTO. Hold, villain; ‘tis the young prince Alberdure.
PEASANT. Let the young prince hold then; slid, I have no stars in my belly, I; let him seek his Hyanthe where he will.
ALBERDURE. O this way by the glimmering of the sun
And the legerity of her sweet feet
She scouted on, and I will follow her.
I see her, like a golden spangle, sit
Upon the curled branch of yonder tree.
Sit still, Hyanthe; I will fly to thee. [Exit.]
MOTTO. Follow, follow, follow! [Exeunt all but PEASANT. Enter FLORES and HANS.]
PEASANT. Together and be hanged. O here comes more; pray God I have better luck with these two. By your leave, sir, do you know one Master Flores, I pray?
FLORES. What wouldst thou have with him?
PEASANT. Faith, Sir, I am directed to you by Lady Fortune with a piece of plate. I do hope you will use plain dealing, being a jeweller.
FLORES. Where hadst thou this?
PEASANT. In a very strange place, sir.
HANS. He stole it, sir, I warrant you.
FLORES. I never saw a gem so precious,
So wonderful in substance and in art.
Fellow, confess precisely where thou hadst it.
PEASANT. Faith, sir, I had it in a cave in the bottom of a fine green hill where I found a company of fairies, I think they call them.
FLORES. Sawst thou any more such furniture there?
PEASANT. Store, sir, store.
FLORES. And canst thou bring me thither?
PEASANT. With a wet finger, sir.
HANS. And ha’ they good cheer, too?
PEASANT. Excellent.
HANS. O sweet thief!
FLORES. ‘Tis sure some place enchanted, which this ring
Will soon dissolve and guard me free from fear.
— Here’s for the cup; come, guide me quickly thither.
Ah, could I be possessed of more such gems,
I were the wealthiest jeweller on earth. [Exeunt.]
SCENE 5.
[Enter ENCHANTER, leading LUCILIA and LASSINGBERGH bound by spirits; who being laid down on a green bank, the spirits fetch in a banquet.]
THE SONG.
O princely face and fair, that lightens all the air,
Would God my eyes kind fire might life and soul inspire.
To thy rich beauty shining in my heart’s treasure,
The unperfect words refining for perfect pleasure.
ENCHANTER. Lie there and lose the memory of her
Who likewise hath forgot the thought of thee
By my enchantments. Come, sit down, fair nymph,
And taste the sweetness of these heavenly cates,
Whilst from the hollow crannies of this rock
Music shall sound to recreate my love.
But tell me had you ever lover yet?
LUCILIA. I had a lover, I think, but who it was,
Or when, or how, long since, aye me, I know not.
Yet beat my timorous thoughts on such a thing;
I feel a passionate heart but find no flame,
Think what I know not, nor know what I think.
ENCHANTER. Hast thou forgot me, then? I am thy love,
Whom sweetly thou wert wont to entertain
With looks, with vows of love, with amorous kisses.
Lookst thou so strange? Dost thou not know me yet?
LUCILIA. Sure I should know you.
ENCHANTER. Why, love? Doubt you that?
‘Twas I that lead you through the painted meadows,
When the light dairies danced upon the flowers,
Hanging on every leaf an orient pearl
Which, struck together with the silver wind
Of their loose mantels, made a silvery chime.
‘Twas I that winding my shrill bugle horn,
Made a gilt palace break out of the hill,
Filled suddenly with troops of knights and dames
Who danced and revelled whilst we sweetly slept
Upon a bed of roses, wrapt all in gold.
Dost thou not know me yet?
LUCILIA. Yes, now I know you.
ENCHANTER. Come then, confirm thy knowledge with a kiss.
LUCILIA. Nay, stay, you are not he: how strange is this!
ENCHANTER. Thou art grown passing strange, my love,
To him that made thee so long since his bride.
LUCILIA. O, was it you? Come then. O stay a while:
I know not what I am nor where I am,
Nor you, nor these I know, nor any thing. [Enter FLORES with HANS and the PEASANT.]
PEASANT. This is the green, Sir, where I had the cup,
And this the bottom of a falling hill;
This way I went following the sound. And see —
HANS. O see, and seeing eat withal.
FLORES. What? Lassingbergh laid bound, and fond Lucilia,
Wantonly feasting by a strangers side! — Peasant, begone: [Exit PEASANT.]
Hans, stand you there and stir not.
— Now sparkle forth thy beams, thou virtuous gem,
And loose these strong enchantments.
ENCHANTER. Stay! Aye me,
We are betrayed! Haste, spirits, and remove
This table and these cups — remove, I say:
Our incantations strangely are dissolved. [Exeunt ENCHANTER with SPIRITS and banquets.]
HANS. O spiteful churls! Have they carried away all? Has haste made no waste?
LUCILIA. My Lord, Earl Lassingbergh, ô pardon me.
LASSINGBERGH. Away from me.
LUCILIA. O can I in these bonds
Forget the duty of my love to you?
Were they of iron, or strong adamant,
My hands should tear them from my wronged lord.
FLORES. O, Lassingbergh, to what undoubted peril
Of life and honour had you brought yourself
By obstinacy of your froward mind,
Had not my fortune brought me to this place
To loose the enchantment, which enthralled you both,
By hidden virtue of this precious ring.
Come, therefore, friendly, and embrace at last
The living partner of your strange mishaps
Justly pursuing you for flying her.
LASSINGBERGH. Leave me, I say; I can endure no more.
LUCILIA. Ah, have I loosed thee, then, to fly from me?
LASSINGBERGH. Away! [Exit.]
LUCILIA. I’ll follow thee.
FLORES. Tarry, Lucilia.
LUCILIA. Dear father, pardon me. [Exit.]
FLORES. Sirrah, attend her.
Poor wretch, I fear this too much love in thee
Is fatal to thee. Up, Sirrah, follow your mistress.
HANS. Ay, sir, I go; my mistress dogs the banquet and I dog her. [Exeunt.]
[Finis Actus Tertii]