The Mad Lover, a Tragi-Comedy. Beaumont Francis

      King. No more wars my Souldier: { K. takes Mem. aside and talks with him.

      We must now treat of peace Sir.

      Clean. How he talks,

      How gloriously.

      Cal. A goodly timber'd fellow,

      Valiant no doubt.

      Cle. If valour dwell in vaunting;

      In what a phrase he speaks, as if his actions

      Could be set off in nothing but a noise;

      Sure h'as a drum in's mouth.

      Cal. I wonder wenches

      How he would speak to us.

      Clean. Nothing but Larum,

      Tell us whose throat he cut, shew us his sword,

      And bless it for sure biting.

      Lucippe. And 't like your Grace,

      I do not think he knows us what we are,

      Or to what end; for I have heard his followers

      Affirm he never saw a woman that exceeded

      A Sutlers wife yet, or in execution

      Old bedrid Beldames without teeth or tongues,

      That would not flie his furie? how he looks.

      Clea. This way devoutly.

      Cal. Sure his Lordship's viewing

      Our Fortifications.

      Lucip. If he mount at me,

      I may chance choak his Battery.

      Cal. Still his eye

      Keeps quarter this way: Venus grant his valour

      Be not in love.

      Clean. If he be, presently

      Expect a Herald and a Trumpet with ye

      To bid ye render; we two Perdu's pay for't else.

      King. I'le leave ye to my sister, and these Ladies

      To make your welcom fuller: my good souldier

      We must now turn your sternness into Courtship;

      When ye have done there, to your fair repose Sir: [Flourish.

      I know you need it Memnon; welcom Gentlemen. [Exit King.

      Luci. Now he begins to march: Madam the Van's yours,

      Keep your ground sure; 'tis for your spurrs.

      Mem. O Venus. { He kneels amaz'd, and forgets to speak.

      Cal. How he stares on me.

      Clean. Knight him Madam, knight him,

      He will grow toth' ground else.

      Eumenes. Speak Sir, 'tis the Princess.

      1 Cap. Ye shame your self, speak to her.

      Cal. Rise and speak Sir.

      Ye are welcome to the Court, to me, to all Sir.

      Lucip. Is he not deaf?

      Cal. The Gentleman's not well.

      Eumen. Fie noble General.

      Lucip. Give him fresh air, his colour goes, how do ye?

      The Princess will be glad Sir.

      Mem. Peace, and hear me.

      Clean. Command a silence there.

      Mem. I love thee Lady.

      Cal. I thank your Lordship heartily: proceed Sir.

      Lucip. Lord how it stuck in's stomach like a surfeit.

      Clean. It breaks apace now from him, God be thanked,

      What a fine spoken man he is.

      Lucip. A choice one, of singular variety in carriage.

      Clean. Yes and I warrant you he knows his distance.

      Mem. With all my heart I love thee.

      Cal. A hearty Gentleman,

      And I were e'en an arrant beast, my Lord,

      But I lov'd you again.

      Mem. Good Lady kiss me.

      Clean. I marry, Mars, there thou cam'st close up to her.

      Cal. Kiss you at first my Lord? 'tis no fair fashion,

      Our lips are like Rose buds, blown with mens breaths,

      They lose both sap and savour; there's my hand Sir.

      Eumen. Fie, fie, my Lord, this is too rude.

      Mem. Unhand me,

      Consume me if I hurt her; good sweet Lady

      Let me but look upon thee.

      Cal. Doe.

      Mem. Yet —

      Cal. Well Sir,

      Take your full view.

      Lucip. Bless your eyes Sir.

      Cal. Mercy,

      Is this the man they talkt of for a Souldier,

      So absolute and Excellent: O the Gods,

      If I were given to that vanitie

      Of making sport with men for ignorance,

      What a most precious subject had I purchas'd!

      Speak for him Gentlemen: some one that knows,

      What the man ails; and can speak sense.

      Clean. Sure Madam,

      This fellow has been a rare Hare finder.

      See how his eyes are set.

      Cal. Some one goe with me,

      I'le send him something for his head, poor Gentleman,

      He's troubled with the staggers.

      Lucip. Keep him dark,

      He will run March mad else, the fumes of Battels

      Ascend into his brains.

      Clean. Clap to his feet

      An old Drum head, to draw the thunder downward.

      Cal. Look to him Gentlemen: farewel, Lord I am sorry

      We cannot kiss at this time, but believe it

      We'l find an hour for all: God keep my Children,

      From being such sweet Souldiers; Softly wenches,

      Lest we disturb his dream. [Exeunt Calis