قراءة كتاب Beaumont and Fletcher's Works, Vol. 5

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Beaumont and Fletcher's Works, Vol. 5

Beaumont and Fletcher's Works, Vol. 5

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دار النشر: Project Gutenberg
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serve your pleasure.

Fred. Why 'tis thy Sister then, the fair Evanthe,
I'le be plain with thee.
Sor. I'le be as plain with you, Sir,
She brought not her perfections to the world,
To lock them in a case, or hang 'em by her,
The use is all she breeds 'em for, she is yours, Sir.
Fred. Dost thou mean seriously?
Sor. I mean my Sister,
And if I had a dozen more, they were all yours:
Some Aunts I have, they have been handsome Women,
My Mother's dead indeed, and some few Cousins
That are now shooting up, we shall see shortly.
Fred. No, 'tis Evanthe.
Sor. I have sent my man unto her,
Upon some business to come presently
Hither, she shall come; your Grace dare speak unto her?
Large golden promises, and sweet language, Sir,
You know what they work, she is a compleat Courtier,
Besides I'le set in.
Fred. She waits upon my Queen,
What jealousie and anger may arise,
Incensing her?
Sor. You have a good sweet Lady,
A Woman of so even and still a temper,
She knows not anger; say she were a fury,
I had thought you had been absolute, the great King,
The fountain of all honours, plays and pleasures,
Your will and your commands unbounded also;
Go get a pair of Beads and learn to pray, Sir.

Enter Servant.

Ser. My Lord, your servant stayes.
Sor. Bid him come hither, and bring the Lady with him.
Fred. I will woo her,
And either lose my self, or win her favour.
Sor. She is coming in.
Fred. Thy eyes shoot through the door,
They are so piercing, that the beams they dart
Give new light to the room.

Enter Podramo and Evanthe.

Evan. Whither dost thou go?
This is the Kings side, and his private lodgings,
What business have I here?
Pod. My Lord sent for ye.
Evan. His lodgings are below, you are mistaken,
We left them at the stair-foot.
Pod. Good sweet Madam.
Evan. I am no Counsellor, nor important Sutor,
Nor have no private business through these Chambers,
To seek him this way, o' my life thou art drunk,
Or worse than drunk, hir'd to convey me hither
To some base end; now I look on thee better,
Thou hast a bawdy face, and I abhor thee,
A beastly bawdy face, I'le go no further.
Sor. Nay shrink not back, indeed you shall good Sister,
Why do you blush? the good King will not hurt ye,
He honours ye, and loves ye.
Evan. Is this the business?
Sor. Yes, and the best you ever will arrive at if you be wise.
Evan. My Father was no bawd, Sir,
Nor of that worshipful stock as I remember.
Sor. [You] are a Fool.
Evan, You are that I shame to tell ye.
Fred. Gentle Evanthe.
Evan. The gracious Queen, Sir,
Is well and merry, Heaven be thanked for it,
And as I think she waits you in the Garden.
Fre. Let her wait there, I talk not of her Garden,
I talk of thee sweet Flower.
Evan. Your Grace is pleasant,
To mistake a Nettle for a Rose.
Fre. No Rose, nor Lilly, nor no glorious Hyacinth
Are of that sweetness, whiteness, tenderness,
Softness, and satisfying blessedness
As my Evanthe.
Evan. Your Grace speaks very feelingly,
I would not be a handsome wench in your way, Sir,
For a new Gown.
Fred. Thou art all handsomness,
Nature will be asham'd to frame another
Now thou art made, thou hast rob'd her of her cunning:
Each several part about thee is a beauty.
Sor. Do you hear this Sister?
Evan. Yes, unworthy Brother, but all this will not do.
Fred. But love Evanthe.
Thou shalt have more than words, wealth, ease, and honours,
My tender Wench.
Evan. Be tender of my credit,
And I shall love you, Sir, and I shall honour ye.
Fred. I love thee to enjoy thee, my Evantbe,
To give thee the content of love.
Evan. Hold, hold, Sir, ye are too fleet,
I have some business this way, your Grace can ne'r content.
Sor. You stubborn toy.
Evan. Good my Lord Bawd I thank ye.
Fre. Thou shalt not go believe me, sweet Evanthe,
So high I will advance thee for this favour,
So rich and potent I will raise thy fortune,

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