Scaena
Prima
.
Enter
Medina
,
Alba
,
and
Daenia
,
met
by
Baltazar
with
a
Ponyard
and
a
Pistoll
.
Bal.
YOu
meet
a
Hydra
;
see
,
if
one
head
failes
Another
with
a
sulphurous
beake
stands
yawning
Med.
What
hath
rais'd
up
this
Devill
?
Bal.
A
great
mans
vices
,
that
can
raise
all
hell
.
What
woo'd
you
call
that
man
,
who
under-saile
,
In
a
most
goodly
ship
,
wherein
hee
ventures
His
life
,
fortunes
,
and
honours
,
yet
in
a
fury
Should
hew
the
Mast
downe
,
cast
Sayles
over-boord
,
Fire
all
the
Tacklings
,
and
to
crowne
this
madnesse
,
Shoo'd
blow
up
all
the
Deckes
,
burne
th'oaken
ribbes
,
And
in
that
Combat
'twixt
two
Elements
Leape
desperately
,
and
drowne
himselfe
i'th
Seas
,
What
were
so
brave
a
fellow
?
Omnes
.
A
brave
blacke
villaine
.
Bal.
That's
I
;
all
that
brave
blacke
villaine
dwels
in
me
,
If
I
be
that
blacke
villaine
;
but
I
am
not
,
A
Nobler
Character
prints
out
my
brow
,
Which
you
may
thus
read
,
I
was
banish'd
Spaine
For
emptying
a
Court-Hogshead
,
but
repeal'd
,
So
I
woo'd
(
e're
my
reeking
Iron
was
cold
)
Promise
to
give
it
a
deepe
crimson
dye
In
—
none
heare
,
—
stay
—
no
,
none
heare
.
Med.
Whom
then
?
Bal.
Basely
to
stab
a
woman
,
your
wrong'd
Neece
,
And
her
most
innocent
sonne
Sebastian
.
Alb.
The
Boare
now
foames
with
whetting
.
Dan.
What
has
blunted
Thy
weapons
point
at
these
?
Bal.
My
honesty
;
A
signe
at
which
few
dwell
:
(
pure
honesty
!
)
I
am
a
vassaile
to
Medina's
house
,
He
taught
me
first
the
A
,
B
,
C
,
of
warre
:
Ere
I
was
Truncheon-high
,
I
had
the
stile
Of
beardlesse
Captaine
,
writing
then
but
boy
,
And
shall
I
now
turne
slave
to
him
that
fed
me
With
Cannon-bullets
'
and
taught
me
,
Estridge-like
,
To
digest
Iron
and
Steele
!
no
:
yet
I
yeelded
With
willow-bendings
to
commanding
breaths
.
Med.
Of
whom
?
Bal.
Of
King
and
Queene
:
with
supple
Hams
,
And
an
ill-boading
looke
,
I
vow'd
to
doo't
:
Yet
,
lest
some
choake-peare
of
State-policy
Shoo'd
stop
my
throat
,
and
spoyle
my
drinking-pipe
,
See
(
like
his
cloake
)
I
hung
at
the
Kings
elbow
,
Till
I
had
got
his
hand
to
signe
my
life
.
Daen.
Shall
we
see
this
and
sleepe
?
Alb.
No
,
whilst
these
wake
.
Med.
'Tis
the
Kings
hand
.
Bal.
Thinke
you
me
a
quoyner
?
Med.
No
,
no
,
thou
art
thy selfe
still
,
Noble
Baltazar
,
I
ever
knew
thee
honest
,
and
the
marke
Stands
still
upon
thy
fore-head
.
Bal.
Else
flea
the
skin
off
.
Med.
I
ever
knew
thee
valiant
,
and
to
scorne
All
acts
of
basenesse
:
I
have
seene
this
man
Write
in
the
field
such
stories
with
his
sword
,
That
cur
best
Chiefetaines
swore
there
was
in
him
As
'twere
a
new
Philosophy
of
fighting
,
His
deeds
were
so
Punctillious
:
In
one
battell
,
When
death
so
nearely
mist
my
ribs
,
he
strucke
Three
horses
stone-dead
under
me
:
This
man
,
Three
times
that
day
(
even
through
the
jawes
of
danger
)
Redeem'd
me
up
,
and
(
I
shall
print
it
ever
)
Stood
o're
my
body
with
Collossus
thighes
,
Whilst
all
the
Thunder-bolts
which
warre
could
throw
,
Fell
on
his
head
:
And
Baltazar
,
thou
canst
not
Be
now
but
honest
still
,
and
valiant
still
,
Not
to
kill
boyes
and
women
.
Bal.
My
byter
here
,
cats
no
such
meat
.
Med.
Goe
fetch
the
mark'd-out
Lambe
for
slaughter
hither
,
Good
fellow-souldier
ayd
him
,
—
and
stay
—
marke
,
Give
this
false
fire
to
the
beleeving
King
,
That
the
child's
sent
to
heaven
,
but
that
the
mother
Stands
rock'd
so
strong
with
friends
,
ten
thousand
billowes
Cannot
once
shake
her
.
Bal.
This
I'le
doe
.
Med.
Away
:
Yet
one
word
more
;
your
Counsell
,
Noble
friends
;
Harke
Baltazar
,
because
nor
eyes
nor
tongues
,
Shall
by
lowd
Larums
,
that
the
poore
boy
liues
,
Question
thy
false
report
,
the
child
shall
closely
Mantled
in
darknesse
,
forthwith
be
conveyed
To
the
Monastery
of
Saint
Paul
.
Omnes
.
Good
.
Med.
Dispatch
then
,
be
quicke
.
Bal.
As
Lightning
.
Exit
.
Alb.
This
fellow
is
some
Angell
drop'd
from
heauen
To
preserve
Innocence
.
Med.
He
is
a
wheele
Of
swift
and
turbulent
motion
;
I
have
trusted
him
,
Yet
will
not
hang
on
him
too
many
plummets
,
Lest
with
a
headlong
Cyre
he
ruines
all
:
In
these
State-consternations
,
when
a
kingdome
Stands
tottering
at
the
Center
,
out
of
suspition
Safety
growes
often
;
let
us
suspect
this
fellow
,
And
that
albeit
he
shew
us
the
Kings
hand
,
It
may
be
but
a
Tricke
.
Daen.
Your
Lordship
hits
A
poyson'd
nayle
i'th
head
:
this
waxen
fellow
(
By
the
Kings
hand
so
bribing
him
with
gold
)
is
set
on
skrews
,
Perhaps
is
made
his
Creature
,
To
turne
round
every
way
.
Med.
Out
of
that
feare
Will
I
beget
truth
:
for
my selfe
in
person
Will
sound
the
Kings
brest
.
Carl.
How
your selfe
in
person
?
Alb.
That's
halfe
the
prize
he
gapes
for
.
Med.
I'le
venture
it
,
And
come
off
well
I
warrant
you
,
and
rip
up
His
very
entrailes
,
cut
in
two
his
heart
,
And
search
each
corner
in't
,
yet
shall
not
he
Know
who
it
is
cuts
up
th'
Anatomy
.
Daen.
'Tis
an
exploit
worth
wonder
.
Carl.
Put
the
worst
,
Say
some
Infernall
voyce
shoo'd
rore
from
hell
,
The
Infant's
cloystering
up
.
Alb.
'Tis
not
our
danger
,
Nor
the
imprison'd
Prince's
,
for
what
Theefe
Dares
by
base
sacrilege
rob
the
Church
of
him
?
Carl.
At
worst
none
can
be
lost
but
this
slight
fellow
?
Med.
All
build
on
this
as
on
a
stable
Cube
;
If
we
our
footing
keepe
,
we
fetch
him
forth
,
And
Crowne
him
King
;
if
up
we
flye
i'th
ayre
,
We
for
his
soules
health
a
broad
way
prepare
.
Daen.
They
come
.
Enter
Baltazar
and
Sebastian
.
Med.
Thou
knowst
where
To
bestow
him
,
Baltazar
.
Bal.
Come
Moble
Boy
.
Alb.
Hide
him
from
being
discovered
.
Bal.
Discover'd
?
woo'd
there
stood
a
troope
of
Moores
Thrusting
the
pawes
of
hungry
Lions
forth
,
To
seize
this
prey
,
and
this
but
in
my
hand
,
I
should
doe
something
.
Seb.
Must
I
goe
with
this
blacke
fellow
,
Vncle
?
Med.
Yes
,
pretty
Coz
,
hence
with
him
,
Baltazar
.
Bal.
Sweet
child
,
within
few
minutes
I'le
change
thy
fate
And
take
thee
hence
,
but
set
thee
at
heavens
gate
.
Exeunt
Med.
Some
keepe
aloofe
and
watch
this
Souldier
.
Carl.
I'le
doo't
.
Dæn.
What's
to
be
done
now
?
Med.
First
to
plant
strong
guard
About
the
mother
,
then
into
some
snare
To
hunt
this
spotted
Panther
,
and
there
kill
him
.
Dæn.
What
snares
have
we
can
hold
him
?
Med.
Be
that
care
mine
;
Dangers
(
like
Starres
)
in
darke
attempts
best
shine
.
Exeunt
.
Enter
Cornego
,
Baltazar
.
Cor.
The
Lady
Onaelia
dresseth
the
stead
of
her
commendations
in
the
most
Courtly
Attire
that
words
can
be
cloth'd
with
,
from
her selfe
to
you
,
by
me
.
Bal.
So
Sir
;
and
what
disease
troubles
her
now
?
Cor.
The
Kings
Evill
;
and
here
she
hath
sent
something
to
you
wrap'd
up
in
a
white
sheet
,
you
need
not
feare
to
open
it
,
tis
no
coarse
.
Bal.
What's
here
?
a
letter
minc'd
into
five
morsels
?
What
was
she
doing
when
thou
camst
from
her
?
Cor.
At
her
pricke-song
.
Bal.
Some
thinks
,
for
here's
nothing
but
sol-Re-me-fa-mi
.
What
Crochet
fils
her
head
now
,
canst
tell
?
Cor.
No
Crochets
,
'tis
onely
the
Cliffe
has
made
her
mad
.
Bal.
What
Instrument
playd
she
upon
?
Cor.
A
wind
instrument
,
she
did
nothing
but
sigh
.
Bal.
Sol
,
Re
,
me
,
Fa
,
Mi
.
Cor.
My
wit
has
alwayes
had
a
singing
head
,
I
have
found
out
her
Note
Captaine
.
Bal.
The
tune
?
come
.
Cor.
Sol
,
my
foule
;
re
,
is
all
rent
and
torne
like
a
raggamuffin
;
me
,
mend
it
good
Captaine
;
fa
,
fa
,
whats
fa
Captaine
?
Bal.
Fa
,
why
farewell
and
be
hang'd
.
Cor.
Mr
,
Captaine
,
with
all
my
heart
;
haue
I
tickled
my
Ladies
Fiddle
well
?
Bal.
Oh
but
your
sticke
wants
Rozen
to
make
the
strings
sound
clearely
:
no
,
this
double
Virginall
,
being
cunningly
touch'd
,
another
manner
of
Iacke
leaps
up
then
is
now
in
mine
eye
:
Sol
,
Re
,
me
,
fa
,
mi
,
I
have
it
now
,
Solus
Rex
me
facit
miseram
:
Alas
poore
Lady
,
tell
her
no
Pothecary
in
Spaine
has
any
of
that
Assafetida
she
writes
for
.
Cor.
Assafetida
?
whats
that
?
Bal.
A
thing
to
be
taken
in
a
glister-pipe
.
Cor.
Why
what
ayles
my
Lady
?
Bal.
What
ayles
she
?
why
when
she
cryes
out
,
Solus
Rex
me
facit
miseram
,
she
sayes
in
the
Hypocronicall
language
,
that
she
is
so
miserably
tormented
with
the
wind-Chollicke
that
it
rackes
her
very
soule
.
Cor.
I
said
somewhat
cut
her
soule
in
peeces
.
Bal.
But
goe
to
her
,
and
say
the
Oven
is
heating
.
Cor.
And
what
shall
be
bak'd
in
t
?
Bal.
Carpe
pyes
:
and
besides
,
tell
her
the
hole
in
her
Coat
shall
be
mended
:
and
tell
her
if
the
Dyall
of
good
dayes
goe
true
,
why
then
bounce
Buckrum
.
Cor.
The
Divell
lyes
sicke
of
the
Mulligrubs
.
Bal.
Or
the
Cony
is
dub'd
,
and
three
sheepskins
Cor.
With
the
wrong
side
outward
Bal.
Shall
make
the
Fox
a
Night-cap
.
Cor.
So
the
Goose
talkes
French
to
the
Buzzard
.
Bal.
But
,
Sir
,
if
evill
dayes
justle
our
prognostication
to
the
wall
,
then
say
there's
a
fire
in
a
Whore-masters
Codpeece
.
Cor.
And
a
poyson'd
Bagge-pudding
in
Tom
Thumbes
belly
.
Bal.
The
first
cut
be
thine
:
farewell
.
Cor.
Is
this
all
?
Bal.
Woo't
not
trust
an
Almanacke
?
Cor.
Nor
a
Coranta
neither
,
tho
it
were
seal'd
with
Butter
,
and
yet
I
know
where
they
both
lye
passing
well
.
Enter
Lopez
.
Lop.
The
King
sends
round
about
the
Court
to
seek
you
.
Bal.
Away
Otterhound
.
Cor.
Dancing
Beare
,
I'me
gone
.
Exit
.
Enter
King
attended
.
Exeunt
omnes
.
Kin.
A
private
roome
,
Is't
done
?
hast
drawne
thy
two-edg'd
sword
out
yet
?
Bal.
No
,
I
was
striking
at
the
two
Iron
Barres
that
hinder
your
passage
,
and
see
Sir
.
Drawes
.
Kin.
What
meanst
thou
?
Bal.
The
edge
abated
,
feele
.
Kin.
No
,
no
,
I
see
it
.
Bal.
As
blunt
as
Ignorance
.
Kin.
How
?
put
up
—
So
—
how
?
Bal.
I
saw
by
chance
hanging
in
Cardinall
Alvarez
Gallery
a
picture
of
hell
.
Kin.
So
,
what
of
that
?
Bal.
There
lay
upon
burnt
straw
ten
thousand
brave
fellowes
all
starke
naked
,
some
leaning
upon
Crownes
,
some
on
Miters
,
some
on
bags
of
gold
:
Glory
in
another
Corner
lay
like
a
feather
beaten
in
the
raine
;
Beauty
was
turn'd
into
a
watching
Candle
,
that
went
out
stinking
:
Ambition
went
upon
a
huge
high
paire
of
stilts
,
but
horribly
rotten
;
some
in
another
nooke
were
killing
Kings
,
and
some
having
their
elbowes
shov'd
forward
by
Kings
to
murther
others
;
I
was
(
me thought
)
halfe
in
hell
my selfe
whilst
I
stood
to
view
this
peece
.
Kin.
Was
this
all
?
Bal.
Was't
not
enough
to
see
that
a
man
is
more
healthfull
that
eats
dirty
puddings
,
than
he
that
feeds
on
a
corrupted
Conscience
.
Kin.
Conscience
!
what's
that
?
a
Conjuring
booke
ne're
open'd
Without
the
readers
danger
:
'tis
indeed
A
scare-crow
set
i'th
world
to
fright
weake
fooles
:
Hast
thou
seene
fields
pav'd
o're
with
carkasses
,
Now
to
be
tender-footed
,
not
to
tread
On
a
boyes
mangled
quarters
,
and
a
womans
!
Bal.
Nay
,
Sir
,
I
have
search'd
the
records
of
the
Low-Countries
,
and
finde
that
by
your
pardon
I
need
not
care
a
pinne
for
Goblins
,
and
therefore
I
will
doo't
Sir
.
I
did
but
recoyle
because
I
was
double
charg'd
.
Kin.
No
more
,
here
comes
a
Satyre
with
sharpe
hornes
.
Enter
Cardinall
,
and
Medina
like
a
French
Doctor
.
Car.
Sir
here's
a
Frenchman
charg'd
with
some
strange
Which
to
your
close
eare
onely
hee'll
deliver
,
(
businesse
Or
else
to
none
.
Kin.
A
Frenchman
?
Med.
We
Mounsire
.
Kin.
Cannot
he
speake
the
Spanish
?
Med.
Si
Signior
,
vr
Poco
:
—
Monsir
Acontez
in
de
Corner
,
me
come
for
offer
to
your
Bon
grace
mi
trezhumbla
service
,
by
gar
no
Iohn
fidleco
shall
put
into
your
neare
braver
Melody
dan
dis
vn
petite
pipe
shall
play
upon
to
your
great
bon
Grace
.
Kin.
What
is
the
tune
you'll
strike
up
,
touch
the
string
.
Med.
Dis
;
me
ha
run
up
and
downe
mane
Countrie
,
and
learne
many
fine
ting
,
and
mush
knavery
,
now
more
and
all
dis
,
me
know
you
ha
jumbla
de
fine
vench
and
fill
her
belly
wid
a
Garsoone
,
her
name
is
le
Madame
—
Kin.
Onalia
.
Med.
She
by
gar
:
Now
Monsire
,
dis
Madam
send
for
me
to
helpe
her
Malady
,
being
very
naught
of
her
corpes
(
her
body
)
me
know
you
no
point
love
a
dis
vensh
;
but
royall
Monsire
donne
Moye
ten
towsand
French
Croownes
she
shall
kicke
up
her
taile
by
gar
,
and
beshide
lye
dead
as
dog
in
de
shannell
.
Kin.
Speake
low
.
Med.
As
de
bagge-pipe
when
de
winde
is
puff
,
Gar
beigh
.
Kin.
Thou
nam'st
ten
thousand
Crownes
,
I'le
treble
them
Rid
me
but
of
this
leprosie
:
thy
name
?
Med.
Monsire
Doctor
Deuile
.
Kin.
Shall
I
a
second
wheele
adde
to
this
mischiefe
To
set
it
faster
going
?
If
one
breake
,
Th'other
may
keepe
his
motion
.
Med.
Eslelent
fort
boone
.
Kin.
Baltazar
,
To
give
thy
Sword
an
edge
againe
,
this
French-man
Shall
whet
them
on
,
that
if
thy
pistoll
faile
,
Or
ponyard
,
this
can
send
the
poyson
home
.
Bal.
Brother
Cain
wee'll
shake
hands
.
Med.
In
de
bowle
of
de
bloody
busher
:
tis
very
fine
wholesome
.
Kin.
And
more
to
arme
your
resolution
,
I'le
tune
this
Churchman
so
,
that
he
shall
chime
In
sounds
harmonious
,
Merit
to
that
man
Whose
hand
has
but
a
finger
in
that
act
.
Bal.
That
musicke
were
worth
hearing
.
Kin.
Holy
Father
,
You
must
give
pardon
to
me
in
unlocking
A
Cave
stuft
full
with
Serpents
,
which
my
State
Threaten
to
poyson
,
and
it
lyes
in
you
To
breake
their
bed
with
thunder
of
your
voyce
.
Car.
How
Princely
sonne
?
Kin.
Suppose
an
universall
Hot
Pestilence
beat
her
mortiferous
wings
O
re
all
my
kingdome
,
am
not
I
bound
in
soule
To
empty
all
our
Achademes
of
Doctors
,
And
Aesculapian
spirits
to
charme
this
plague
?
Car.
You
are
.
Kin.
Or
had
the
Canon
made
a
breach
Into
our
rich
Escuriall
,
downe
to
beat
it
About
our
eares
,
shoo'd
I
to
stop
this
breach
Spare
even
our
richest
Ornaments
,
nay
,
our
Crowne
,
Could
it
keepe
bullets
off
.
Car.
No
Sir
,
you
should
not
.
Kin.
This
Linstocke
gives
you
fire
:
shall
then
that
strumpet
And
bastard
breathe
quicke
vengeance
in
my
face
;
Making
my
kingdome
reele
,
my
subjects
stagger
In
their
obedience
,
and
yet
live
?
Car.
How
?
live
!
Shed
not
their
bloods
to
gaine
a
kingdome
greater
Then
ten
times
this
.
Med.
Pishe
,
not
mattera
how
Red-cap
and
his
wit
run
.
Kin.
As
I
am
Catholike
King
,
I'le
have
their
hearts
,
Panting
in
these
two
hands
.
Car.
Dare
you
turne
Hang-man
?
Is
this
Religion
Catholike
to
kill
What
even
bruit
beasts
abhorre
to
doe
,
(
your
owne
!
)
To
cut
in
sunder
wedlockes
sacred
knot
Tyed
by
heavens
fingers
!
to
make
Spaine
a
Bonfire
,
To
quench
which
must
a
second
Deluge
raine
In
showres
of
blood
,
no
water
;
If
you
doe
this
,
There
is
an
Arme
Armipotent
that
can
fling
you
Into
a
base
grave
,
and
your
Pallaces
With
Lightning
strike
,
and
of
their
Ruines
make
A
Tombe
for
you
(
unpitied
,
and
abhorr'd
)
Beare
witnesse
all
you
Lamps
Coelestiall
I
wash
my
hands
of
this
.
kneeling
.
Kin.
Rise
my
good
Angell
,
Whose
holy
tunes
beat
from
me
that
evill
spirit
Which
jogs
mine
Elbow
,
hence
thou
dog
of
hell
.
Med.
Baw
wawghe
.
Kin.
Barke
out
no
more
thou
Mastiffe
,
get
you
all
gone
,
And
let
my
soule
sleepe
:
there's
gold
,
peace
,
see
it
done
.
Exit
.
Manent
Medina
,
Baltazar
,
Cardinall
.
Bal.
Sirra
,
you
Salfa-Perilla
Rascall
,
Toads-guts
,
you
whorson
pockey
French
Spawne
of
a
bursten-bellyed
Spyder
,
doe
you
heare
,
Monsire
.
Med.
Why
doe
you
barke
and
snap
at
my
Narcissus
,
as
if
I
were
de
Frenshe
doag
?
Bal.
You
Curre
of
Cerberus
litter
strikes
him
.
You'll
poyson
the
honest
Lady
?
doe
but
once
toot
into
her
Chamber-pot
,
and
I'le
make
thee
looke
worse
then
a
witch
does
upon
a
close-stoole
.
Car.
You
shall
not
dare
to
touch
him
,
stood
he
here
Single
before
thee
.
Bal.
I'le
cut
the
Rat
into
Anchovies
.
Car.
I'le
make
thee
kisse
his
hand
,
imbrace
him
,
love
him
And
call
him
—
Medina
discovers
.
Bal.
The
perfection
of
all
Spanyards
.
Mars
in
little
,
the
best
booke
of
the
art
of
Warre
printed
in
these
Times
:
as
a
French
Doctor
I
woo'd
have
given
you
pellets
for
pills
,
but
as
my
noblest
Lord
,
rip
my
heart
out
in
your
service
.
Med.
Thou
art
the
truest
Clocke
That
e're
to
time
paidst
tribute
,
(
honest
Souldier
)
I
lost
mine
owne
shape
,
and
put
on
a
French
,
Onely
to
try
thy
truth
,
and
the
Kings
falshood
,
Both
which
I
find
:
now
this
great
Spanish
volume
Is
open'd
to
me
,
I
read
him
o're
and
o're
,
Oh
what
blacke
Characters
are
printed
in
him
.
Car.
Nothing
but
certaine
ruine
threat
your
Neece
.
Without
prevention
:
well
,
this
plot
was
laid
In
such
disguise
to
sound
him
,
they
that
know
How
to
meet
dangers
,
are
the
lesse
afraid
;
Yet
let
me
counsell
you
not
to
text
downe
These
wrongs
in
red
lines
.
Med.
No
,
I
will
not
,
father
;
Now
that
I
have
Anatomiz'd
his
thoughts
,
I'le
read
a
lecture
on
'em
that
shall
save
Many
mens
lives
,
and
to
the
kingdome
minister
Most
wholesome
Surgery
;
heres
our
Aphorisme
;
These
letters
from
us
in
our
Neeces
name
,
You
know
treat
of
a
marriage
.
Car.
There's
the
strong
Anchor
To
stay
all
in
this
tempest
.
Med.
Holy
Sir
,
With
these
worke
you
the
King
,
and
so
prevaile
,
That
all
these
mischiefes
Hull
with
Flagging
saile
,
Car.
My
best
in
this
I'le
doe
.
Med.
Souldier
,
thy
brest
I
must
locke
better
things
in
.
Bal.
'Tis
your
chest
,
With
3
good
keyes
to
keep
it
from
opening
,
an
honest
hart
,
a
daring
hand
,
and
a
pocket
which
scornes
mony
.
Exeunt