SCENE I.
Open country in England.
[Enter Zweno, king of Denmark, with Rosilio and other
attendants.]
ZWENO.
Rosilio, is this the place whereas the Duke William should
meet me?
ROSILIO.
It is, and like your grace.
ZWENO.
Go, captain! Away, regard the charge I gave:
See all our men be martialed for the fight.
Dispose the Wards as lately was devised;
And let the prisoners under several guards
Be kept apart, until you hear from us.
Let this suffise, you know my resolution.
If William, Duke of Saxons, be the man,
That by his answer sent us, he would seem,
Not words, but wounds: not parlays, but alarms,
Must be decider of this controversy.
Rosilio, stay with me; the rest begone.
[Exeunt.]
[Enter William, and Demarch with other attendants.]
WILLIAM.
All but Demarch go shroud you out of sight;
For I will go parlay with the Prince my self.
DEMARCH.
Should Zweno by this parlay call you foorth,
Upon intent injuriously to deal,
This offereth too much opportunity.
WILLIAM.
No, no, Demarch,
That were a breach against the law of Arms:
Therefore begone, and leave us here alone.
[Exeunt.]
I see that Zweno is maister of his word.
Zweno, William of Saxony greeteth thee,
Either well or ill, according to thy intent.
If well thou wish to him and Saxony,
He bids thee friendly welcome as he can.
If ill thou wish to him and Saxony,
He must withstand thy malice as he may.
ZWENO.
William,
For other name and title give I none
To him, who, were he worthy of those honours
That Fortune and his predecessors left,
I ought, by right and humaine courtesy,
To grace his style with Duke of Saxony;
But, for I find a base, degenerate mind,
I frame my speech according to the man,
And not the state that he unworthy holds.
WILLIAM.
Herein, Zweno, dost thou abase thy state,
To break the peace which by our ancestors
Hath heretofore been honourably kept.
ZWENO.
And should that peace for ever have been kept,
Had not thy self been author of the breach:
Nor stands it with the honor of my state,
Or nature of a father to his child,
That I should so be robbed of my daughter,
And not unto the utmost of my power
Revenge so intolerable an injury.
WILLIAM.
Is this the colour of your quarrel, Zweno?
I well perceive the wisest men may err.
And think you I conveyed away your daughter Blanch?
ZWENO.
Art thou so impudent to deny thou didst,
When that the proof thereof is manifest?
WILLIAM.
What proof is there?
ZWENO.
Thine own confession is sufficient proof.
WILLIAM.
Did I confess I stole your daughter Blanch?
ZWENO.
Thou didst confess thou hadst a Lady hence.
WILLIAM.
I have, and do.
ZWENO.
Why, that was Blanch, my daughter.
WILLIAM.
Nay, that was Mariana,
Who wrongfully thou detainest prisoner.
ZWENO.
Shameless persisting in thy ill!
Thou doest maintain a manifest untroth,
As she shall justify unto thy teeth.
Rosilio, fetch her and the Marques hether.
[Exit Rosilio for Mariana.]
WILLIAM.
It cannot be I should be so deceived.
DEMARCH.
I heard this night among the souldiers
That in their watch they took a pensive Lady,
Who, at the appointment of the Lord Dirot,
Is yet in keeping. What she is I know not:
Only thus much I over-heard by chance.
WILLIAM.
And what of this?
DEMARCH.
I may be Blaunch, the Kind of Denmarks daughter.
WILLIAM.
It may be so: but on my life it is not;
Yet, Demarch, go, and fetch her straight.
[Exit Demarch.]
[Enter Rosilio with the Marques.]
ROSILIO.
Pleaseth your highness, here is the Marques and Mariana.
ZWENO.
See here, Duke William, your competitors,
That were consenting to my daughters scape.
Let them resolve you of the truth herein.
And here I vow and solemnly protest,
That in thy presence they shall lose their heads,
Unless I hear where as my daughter is.
WILLIAM.
Oh, Marques Lubeck, how it grieveth me,
That for my sake thou shouldest indure these bonds,
Be judge my soul that feels the marytrdom!
MARQUES.
Duke William, you know it is for your cause,
It pleaseth thus the King to misconceive of me,
And for his pleasure doth me injury.
[Enter Demarch with the Lady Blaunch.]
DEMARCH.
May it please your highness,
Here is the Lady whom you sent me for.
WILLIAM.
Away, Demarch! what tellest thou me of Ladies?
I so detest the dealing of their sex,
As that I count a lovers state to be
The base and vildest slavery in the world.
DEMARCH.
What humors are these? Here’s a strange alteration!
ZWENO.
See, Duke William, is this Blaunch or no?
You know her if you see her, I am sure.
WILLIAM.
Zweno, I was deceived, yea utterly deceived;
Yet this is she: this same is Lady Blaunch.
And for mine error, here I am content
To do whatsoever Zweno shall set down.
Ah, cruel Mariana, thus to use
The man which loved and honored thee with his heart!
MARIANA.
When first I came into your highness court,
And William often importing me of love,
I did devise, to ease the grief your daughter did sustain,
She should meet Sir William masked, as I it were.
This put in proof did take so good effect,
As yet it seems his grace is not resolved,
But is was I which he conveyed away.
WILLIAM.
May this be true? It cannot be but true.
Was it Lady Blaunch which I conveyed away?
Unconstant Mariana, thus to deal
With him which meant to thee nought but faith!
BLAUNCH.
Pardon, dear father, my follies that are past,
Wherein I have neglected my duty,
Which I in reverence ought to shew your grace;
For, led by love, I thus have gone astray,
And now repent the errors I was in.
ZWENO.
Stand up, dear daughter: though thy fault deserves
For to be punisht in the extremest sort,
Yet love, that covers multitude of sins,
Makes love in parents wink at childrens faults.
Sufficeth, Blaunch, thy father loves thee so,
Thy follies past he knows but will not know.
And here, Duke William, take my daughter to thy wife,
For well I am assured she loves thee well.
WILLIAM.
A proper conjunction! as who should say,
Lately come out of the fire,
I would go thrust my self into the flame.
Let Maistres nice go Saint it where she list,
And coyly quaint it with dissembling face.
I hold in scorn the fooleries that they use:
I being free, will never subject my self
To any such as she is underneath the Sun.
ZWENO.
Refusest thou to take my daughter to thy wife?
I tell thee, Duke, this rash denial may bring
More mischief on thee then thou canst avoid.
WILLIAM.
Conseit hath wrought such general dislike,
Through the false dealing of Mariana,
That utterly I do abhore their sex.
They are all disloyal, unconstant, all unjust:
Who tries as I have tried, and finds as I have found,
Will say theres so such creatures on the ground.
BLANCH.
Unconstant Knight, though some deserve no trust,
Theres others faithful, loving, loyal, and just.
[Enter to them Valingford with Em and the Miller, and
Mountney, and Manville, and Elner.]
WILLIAM.
How now, Lord Valingford, what makes these women here?
VALINGFORD.
Here be two women, may it please your grace,
That are contracted to one man, and are
In strife whether shall have him to their husband.
WILLIAM.
Stand foorth, women, and say,
To whether of you did he first give his faith.
EM.
To me, forsooth.
ELNER.
To me, my gratious Lord.
WILLIAM.
Speak, Manville: to whether didst thou give thy faith?
MANVILLE.
To say the troth, this maid had first my love.
ELNER.
Yes, Manville, but there was no witness by.
EM.
Thy conscience, Manville, is a hundred witnesses.
ELNER.
She hath stolen a conscience to serve her own turn; but you
are deceived, yfaith, he will none of you.
MANVILLE.
In deed, dread Lord, so dear I held her love
As in the same I put my whole delight;
But some impediments, which at that instant hapned,
Made me forsake her quite;
For which I had her fathers frank consent.
WILLIAM.
What were the impediments?
MANVILLE.
Why, she could neither hear nor see.
WILLIAM.
Now she doth both. Maiden, how were you cured?
EM.
Pardon, my Lord, I’ll tell your grace the troth,
Be it not imputed to me as discredit.
I loved this Manville so much, that still my thought,
When he was absent, did present to me
The form and feature of that countenance
Which I did shrine an idol in mine heart.
And never could I see a man, methought,
That equaled Manville in my partial eye.
Nor was there any love between us lost,
But that I held the same in high regard,
Until repair of some unto our house,
Of whom my Manville grew thus jealous
As if he took exception I vouchsafed
To hear them speak, or saw them when they came:
On which I straight took order with my self,
To void the scrupule of his conscience,
By counterfaiting that I neither saw nor heard,
Any ways to rid my hands of them.
All this I did to keep my Manvilles love,
Which he unkindly seeks for to reward.
MANVILLE.
And did my Em, to keep her faith with me,
Dissemble that she neither heard nor saw?
Pardon me, sweet Em, for I am only thine.
EM.
Lay off thy hands, disloyal as thou art!
Nor shalt thou have possession of my love,
That canst so finely shift thy matters off.
Put case I had been blind, and could not see—
As often times such visitations falls
That pleaseth God, which all things doth dispose—
Shouldest thou forsake me in regard of that?
I tell thee Manville, hadst thou been blind,
Or deaf, or dumb, or else what impediments might
Befall to man, Em would have loved and kept,
And honoured thee: yea begged, if wealth had failed,
For thy relief.
MANVILLE.
Forgive me, sweet Em.
EM.
I do forgive thee, with my heart,
And will forget thee too, if case I can:
But never speak to me, nor seem to know me.
MANVILLE.
Then farewell, frost! Well fare a wench that will!
Now, Elner, I am thine own, my girl.
ELNER.
Mine, Manville? thou never shalt be mine.
I so detest thy villainy,
That whilest I live I will abhor thy company.
MANVILLE.
Is it come to this? Of late I had choice of twain,
On either side, to have me to her husband,
And now am utterly rejected of them both.
VALINGFORD.
My Lord, this gentleman, when time was,
Stood some-thing in our light,
And now I think it not amiss
To laugh at him that sometime scorned at us.
MOUNTNEY.
Content my Lord, invent the form.
VALINGFORD.
Then thus.—
WILLIAM.
I see that women are not general evils,
Blanch is fair: Methinks I see in her
A modest countenance, a heavenly blush.
Zweno, receive a reconciled for,
Not as thy friend, but as thy son in law,
If so that thou be thus content.
ZWENO.
I joy to see your grace so tractable.
Here, take my daughter Blanch;
And after my decease the Denmark crown.
WILLIAM.
Now, sir, how stands the case with you?
MANVILLE.
I partly am persuaded as your grace is,
My lord, he is best at ease that medleth least.
VALINGFORD.
Sir, may a man
Be so bold as to crave a word with you?
MANVILLE.
Yea, two or three: what are they?
VALINGFORD.
I say, this maid will have thee to her husband.
MOUNTNEY.
And I say this: and thereof will I lay
An hundred pound.
VALINGFORD.
And I say this: whereon I will lay as much.
MANVILLE.
And I say neither: what say you to that?
MOUNTNEY.
If that be true, then are we both deceived.
MANVILLE.
Why, it is true, and you are both deceived.
MARQUES.
In mine eyes this is the proprest wench;
Might I advise thee, take her unto thy wife.
ZWENO.
It seems to me, she hath refused him.
MARQUES.
Why, theres the spite.
ZWENO.
If one refuse him, yet may he have the other.
MARQUES.
He will ask but her good will, and all her friends.
ZWENO.
Might I advise thee, let them both alone.
MANVILLE.
Yea, thats the course, and thereon will I stand.
Such idle love hencefoorth I will detest.
VALINGFORD.
The Fox will eat no grapes, and why?
MOUNTNEY.
I know full well, because they hand too high.
WILLIAM.
And may it be a Millers daughter by her birth?
I cannot think but she is better borne.
VALINGFORD.
Sir Thomas Goddard hight this reverent man
Famed for his vertues, and his good success:
Whose fame hath been renowmed through the world.
WILLIAM.
Sir Thomas Goddard, welcome to thy Prince;
And, fair Em, frolic with thy good father;
As glad am I to find Sir Thomas Goddard,
As good Sir Edmund Treford, on the plains:
He like a sheepheard, and thou our country Miller.
MILLER.
And longer let not Goddard live a day
Then he in honour loves his soveraigne.
WILLIAM.
But say, Sir Thomas, shall I give thy daughter?
MILLER.
Goddard, and all that he hath,
Doth rest at the pleasure of your Majesty.
WILLIAM.
And what says Em to lovely Valingford?
It seemed he loved you well, that for your sake
Durst leave his King.
EM.
Em rests at the pleasure of your highness:
And would I were a wife for his desert.
WILLIAM.
Then here, Lord Valingford, receive fair Em.
Here take her, make her thy espoused wife.
Then go we in, that preparation may be made,
To see these nuptials solemnly performed.
[Exeunt all. Sound drums and Trumpets.]
FINIS
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