True friends' love to do courtesies, not to hear them.
But I'll obey you. In our tedious passage
Towards Malta-I may call it so, for hardly
We had lost the ken of Sicily, but we were
Becalm'd and hull'd so up and down twelve hours;
When, to our more misfortunes, we descried

Famine, deep waters, have the power to free me From a loath'd life, I'll not an hour outlive him. Pedro. Sister!

Of which the arch Turkish pirate, cruel Dragut,
Was admiral: I'll not speak what I did
In our defence, but never man did more
Than the brave captain that you sent forth with me:
All would not do: courage oppress'd with number,
We were boarded, pillaged to the skin, and after
Twice sold for slaves; by the pirate first, and
By a Maltese to signior Cuculo,
[after
Which I repent not, since there 'twas my fortune
To be to you, my best friend, some ways useful—
I thought to cheer you up with this short story,
But you grow sad on't.

Pedro. Have I not just cause,
When I consider I could be so stupid,
As not to see a friend through all disguises;
Or he so far to question my true love,
To keep himself conceal'd?

Ant. 'Twas fit to do so,

And not to grieve you with the knowledge of
What then I was; where now I appear to you,
Your sister loving me, and Martino safe,
Like to myself and birth.

Pedro. May you live long so!

How dost thou, honest friend? (your trustiest

servant)

Give me thy hand :-I now can guess by whom You are thus furnish'd.

Ant. Troth he met with me

As I was sent to prison, and there brought me Such things as I had use of.

Enter VICEROY, Duke of MESSINA, CARDENES, Paulo, Captain, ALMIRA, LEONORA, Waiting-women, and Attendants.

Vice. The slave changed to the prince of Tarent, says he?

Capt. Yes, sir, and I the captain of the fort, Worthy of your displeasure, and the effect of't, For my deceiving of that trust your excellency Reposed in me.

Paul. Yet since all hath fallen out Beyond your hopes, let me become a suitor, And a prevailing one, to get his pardon.

Alm. O, dearest Leonora, with what forehead Dare I look on him now? too powerful Love, The best strength of thy unconfined empire Lies in weak women's hearts: thou art feign'd

blind,

And yet we borrow our best sight from thee.
Could it be else, the person still the same,
Affection over me such power should have,
To make me scorn a prince, and love a slave?

GONZAGA, Duke of Mantua. LORENZO, Duke of Tuscany.

UBERTI, Prince of Parma.

FARNEZE, Cousin to GONZAGA.

ALONZO, the Ambassador, Nephew to LORENZO.

MANFROY, a Lord of Mantua.

OCTAVIO, formerly General to GONZAGA, but now in Exile.

GOTHRIO, his Servant.

GALEAZZO, a Milanese Prince, disguised under the name of HORTENSIO. JULIO, his Attendant.

I.

Hort. Honest ones, I know it.

I have my bills of exchange, and all provisions,
Entrusted to you; you have shewn yourself
Just and discreet, what would you more? and yet,
To satisfy in some part your curious care,
Hear this, and leave me. I desire to be
Obscured; and, as I have demean'd myself
These six months past in Mantua, I'll continue
Unnoted and unknown, and, at the best,

Appear no more than a gentleman, and a stranger,
That travels for his pleasure.

Jul. With your pardon,

This hardly will hold weight, though I should With your noble friends and brother.

Hort. You may tell them,

[swear it,

Since you will be my tutor, there's a rumour,
Almost cried up into a certainty,

Of wars with Florence, and that I am determined
To see the service: whatever I went forth,

From Florence; but it is 'gainst me already

[Exit.

Hort. A war, indeed, is threaten'd, nay, expected,

Proclaim'd in Mantua; I find it here,

No foreign, but intestine war: I have
Defied myself, in giving up my reason
A slave to passion, and am led captive
Before the battle's fought: I fainted, when
I only saw mine enemy, and yielded,
Before that I was charged; and, though defeated,
I dare not sue for mercy. Like Ixion,
I look on Juno, feel my heart turn cinders
With an invisible fire; and yet, should she
Deign to appear clothed in a various cloud,
The majesty of the substance is so sacred,
I durst not clasp the shadow. I behold her
With adoration, feast my eye, while all
My other senses starve; and, oft frequenting
The place which she makes happy with her pre-
I never yet had power with tongue or pen [sence,
To move her to compassion, or make known
What 'tis I languish for; yet I must gaze still,
Though it increase my flame :-however, I
Much more than fear I am observ'd, and censured
For bold intrusion.
[Walks by.

He is my client, and pays his fees as duly
As ever usurer did, in a bad cause,

To his man of law; and yet I get, and take them
Both easily and honestly: all the service

I do him is, to give him notice when
And where the princess will appear; and that
I hope's no treason. If you miss him, when
She
goes to the vesper or the matins, hang me;
Or when she takes the air, be sure to find him
Near her coach, at her going forth, or coming

back;

What a sad aspéct he wears! but I'll make use
The princess is much troubled with the threats
That come from Florence; I will bring her to him,
The novelty may afford her sport, and help
To purge deep melancholy. Boy, can you stay
Your client here for the third part of an hour?
I have some ends in't.

Asc. Stay him, madam! fear not :
The present receipt of a round sum of crowns,
And that will draw most gallants from their prayers,
Cannot drag him from me.

I'll put him out of his dream.-Good morrow,

signior.

Hort. My little friend, good morrow. Hath the Slept well to-night?

Asc. I hear not from her women

One murmur to the contrary.

Hort. Heaven be praised for't ! Does she go to church this morning?

Asc. Troth, I know not;

I keep no key of her devotion, signior.
Hort. Goes she abroad? pray tell me.
Asc. 'Tis thought rather,

She is resolv'd to keep her chamber.
Hort. Ah me!

[princess

Asc. Why do you sigh? if that you have a business

To be dispatch'd in court, shew ready money,
You shall find those that will prefer it for you.
Hort. Business ! can any man have business, but
To see her; then admire her, and pray for her,
She being composed of goodness? for myself,
I find it a degree of happiness

But to be near her, and I think I pay

A strict religious vow, when I behold her;
And that's all my ambition.

Asc. I believe you :

Yet, she being absent, you may spend some hours With profit and delight too. After dinner,

The duke gives audience to a rough ambassador, Whom yet I never saw, nor heard his title, Employ'd from Florence; I'll help you to a place, Where you shall see and hear all.

Hort. 'Tis not worth

My observation.

Asc. What think you of

An excellent comedy, to be presented

For his entertainment? he that penn'd it is
The poet of the time, and all the ladies,
(I mean the amorous and learned ones,)
Except the princess, will be there to grace it.

Hort. What's that to me? without her all is nothing;

The light that shines in court Cimmerian darkness;
I will to bed again, and there contemplate
On her perfections.

Re-enter BEATRICE with MATILDA, and two Waiting

women.

Asc. Stay, sir, see! the princess,

Beyond our hopes.

Hort. Take that. [Gives him money.]-As Moors salute

The rising sun with joyful superstition,

I could fall down and worship.-O my heart!
Like Phoebe breaking through an envious cloud,
Or something which no simile can express,
She shews to me: a reverent fear, but blended
With wonder and amazement, does possess me.
Now glut thyself, my famish'd eye!

Beat. That's he,

An't please your excellence.

1 Wom. Observe his posture,

But with a quarter-look.

2 Wom. Your eye fix'd on him,

Will breed astonishment.

Matil. A comely gentleman!

I would not question your relation, lady,
Yet faintly can believe it. How he eyes me!
Will he not speak?

Beat. Your excellence hath deprived him

Of speech and motion.

Matil. 'Tis most strange.

Asc. These fits

Are usual with him.

Matil. Is it not, Ascanio,

A personated folly! or he a statue ?
If it be, it is a masterpiece; for man

I cannot think him.

Beat. For your sport, vouchsafe him

A little conference.

Matil. In compassion rather :

Asc. Signior! the princess

Commands you to attend her.

Hort. [Returns.] How! the princess! Am I betray'd?

Asc. What a lump of flesh is this! You are betray'd, sir, to a better fortune

Than you durst ever hope for. What a Tantalus
Do you make yourself! the flying fruit stays for
And the water that you long'd for, rising up [you,
Above your lip, do you refuse to taste it?
Move faster, sluggish camel, or I'll thrust
This goad in your breech: had I such a promising
I should need the reins, not spurs.
[beard,
Matil. You may come nearer.

Why do you shake, sir? If I flatter not
Myself, there's no deformity about me,
Nor any part so monstrous, to beget
An ague in you.

Hort. It proceeds not, madam,
From guilt, but reverence.

Matil. I believe you, sir;

Have you a suit to me?

Hort. Your excellence

Is wondrous fair.

Matil. I thank your good opinion.

Hort. And I beseech you that I may have license To kneel to you.

Matil. A suit I cannot cross.

Hort. I humbly thank your excellence. [Kneels.
Matil. But what,

As you are prostrate on your knee before me,
Is your petition?

Hort. I have none, great princess.
Matil. Do you kneel for nothing?

Hort. Yes, I have a suit,

But such a one, as, if denied, will kill me.

Matil. Take comfort: it must be of some strange

Unfitting you to ask, or me to grant,

If I refuse it.

Hort. It is, madam

Matil. Out with't.

[nature,

less,)

It should not be return'd with scorn; that were
An inhumanity, which my birth nor honour
Could privilege, were they greater. Now I perceive
He has life and motion in him. To whom, lady,
Pays he that duty?

[HORTENSIO, bowing, offers to go off.

Beat. Sans doubt, to yourself.
Matil. And whither goes he now?
Asc. To his private lodging,

But to what end I know not; this is all

I ever noted in him.

Matil. Call him back:

In pity I stand bound to counsel him,
Howe'er I am denied, though I were willing,
To ease his sufferings.

2 Wom. He's no gentleman,

On my virginity, it is apparent :

My tailor has more boldness; nay, my shoemaker
Will fumble a little further, he could not have
The length of my foot else.

Matil. Only to look on me!
Ends your ambition there?

Hort. It does, great lady,

And that confined too, and at fitting distance :
The fly that plays too near the flame burns in it.
As I behold the sun, the stars, the temples,

I look on you, and wish it were no sin
Should I adore you.

Matil. Come, there's something more in't;
And since that you will make a goddess of me,
As such a one I'll tell you, I desire not