Beaumont and Fletcher’s Works, Vol. 9

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Born 1584
Died 1616


Born 1579
Died 1625




at the University Press


C. F. CLAY, Manager

Edinburgh: 100, PRINCES STREET
Berlin: A. ASHER AND CO.
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The Sea-Voyage1
Wit at Several Weapons66
The Fair Maid of the Inn143
Cupid’s Revenge220
The Two Noble Kinsmen290


A Comedy.

The Persons represented in the Play.

  • Albert, a French Pirat, in love with Aminta.
  • Tibalt du Pont, a merry Gentleman, friend to Albert.
  • Master of the Ship, an honest merry man.
  • Lamure, an usuring Merchant.
  • Franville, a vain-glorious gallant.
  • Morillat, a shallow-brain’d Gentleman.
  • Bo[a]tswain, an honest man.
  • Sebastian, a noble Gentleman of Portugal, Husband to Rosellia.
  • Nicusa, Nephew to Sebastian, both cast upon a desart Island.
  • Raimond, brother to Aminta.
  • Surgeon.
  • Sailors.


  • Aminta, Mistriss to Albert, a noble French Virgin.
  • Rosellia, Governess of the Amazonian Portugals.
  • Clarinda, Daughter to Rosellia, in love with Albert.
  • Hippolita, } three Ladies, Members
  • Crocale,     } of the Female
  • Juletta.      } Common-wealth.

The Scene, First at Sea, then in the desart Islands.

The Principal Actors were

  • Joseph Taylor,
  • William Eglestone,
  • Nich. Toolie,
  • Joh Lowin,
  • John Underwood.

Actus Primus. Scæna Prima.

A Tempest, Thunder and Lightning.

Enter Master and two Sailors.

Lay her aloof, the Sea grows dangerous,
How it spits against the clouds, how it capers,
And how the fiery Element frights it back
There be Devils dancing in the air I think
I saw a Dolphin hang i’th horns o’th’ moon
Shot from a wave, hey day, hey day,
How she kicks and yerks!
Down with the Main Mast, lay her at hull,
Farle up all her Linnens, and let her ride it out.
1 Sailor. She’ll never brook it Master.
She’s so deep laden that she’ll bulge.
Master. Hang her.
Can she not buffet with a storm a little?
How it tosses her, she reels like a Drunkard.
2 Sail. We have discover’d the Land, Sir,
Pray let’s make in, she’s so drunk else,
She may chance to cast up all her Lading.
1 Sail. Sland in, sland in, we are all lost else, lost and perish’d.
Mast. Steer her a Star-board there.
2 Sail. Bear in with all the sail we can, see Master
See, what a clap of Thunder there is,
What a face of heaven, how dreadfully it looks!
Mast. Thou rascal, thou fearful rogue, thou hast been praying;
I see’t in thy face, thou hast been mumbling,
When we are split you slave; is this a time,
To discourage our friends with your cold orizons?
Call up the Boatswain; how it storms; holla.
Boats. What shall we do Master?
Cast over all her lading? she will not swim
An hour else;

Enter Albert, Franvile, Lamure, Tibalt de pont. Morillat.

Mast. The storm is loud,
We cannot hear one another,
What’s the coast?
Boats. We know not ye[t]; shall we make in?
Albert. What comfort Sailors?
I never saw, since I have known the Sea,
(which has been this twenty years) so rude a tempest:
In what State are we?
Mast. Dangerous enough Captain,
We have sprung five leaks, and no little ones;
Still rage; besides, her ribs are open;
Her rudder almost spent; prepare your selves;
And have good courages, death comes but once,
And let him come in all his frights.
Albert. Is’t not possible,
To make in to th’ Land? ’tis here before us.
Morill. Here hard by Sir.
Mast. Death is nearer, Gentlemen.
Yet do not cry, let’s dye like men.
Tib. Shall’s hoise the Boat out,
And goe all at one cast? the more the merrier.

Enter Amint.

Mast. You are too hasty Mounsieur,
Do ye long to be i’th’ Fish-market before your time?
Hold her up there.
Amint. Oh miserable fortune,
Nothing but horror sounding in mine ears,
No minute to promise to my frighted soul.
Tib. Peace woman,
We ha storms enough already; no more howling.
Amint. Gentle Master.
Mast. Clap this woman under hatches.
Alb. Prethe speak mildly to her.
Amint. Can no help?
Mast. None that I know.
Amint. No promise from your goodness.
Mast. Am I a God? for heavens sake stow this [woman].
Tib. Go: take your gilt [Prayer-Book];
And to your business; wink and die,
There’s an old Haddock staies for ye.
Amint. Must I die here in all the frights[, the] terrors,
The thousand several shapes death triumphs in?
No friend to counsel me?
Alb. Have peace sweet Mistriss.
Amint. No kindreds tears upon me? oh! my countrey?
No gentle hand to close mine eyes?
Alb. Be comforted, heaven has the same
Power still, and the same mercy.
Amint. Oh, that wave will devour me.
Mast. Carry her down Captain;
Or by these hands I’ll give no more direction,
Let the Ship sink or swim, we ha ne’er better luck,
When we ha such stowage as these trinkets with us;
These sweet sin-breeders: how can heaven smile on us,
When such a burthen of iniquity
Lies tumbling like a potion in our ship’s belly? [Exit.
Tib. Away with her, and if she have a Prayer,
That’s fit for such an hour, let her say’t quickly,
And seriously. [Exit.
Alb. Come, I see it clear Lady, come in,
And take some comfort. I’ll stay with ye.
Amint. Where should I stay? to what end should I hope,
Am not I circled round with misery?
Confusions in their full heights dwell about me:
Oh Mounsieur Albert, How am I bound to curse ye,
If curses could redeem me! how to hate ye!
You forc’d me from my quiet, from my friends;
Even from their Arms, that were as dear to me,
As day-light is, or comfort to the wretched;
You forc’d my friends from their peaceful rest,
Some your relentless sword gave their last groans;
Would I had there been numbred;
And to fortunes never satisfied afflictions,
Ye turn’d my Brother; and those few friends I’d left,
Like desperate creatures, to their own fears
And the world’s stubborn pitties: Oh merciless!
Alb. Sweet Mistriss.
Amint. And wh[e]ther they are wandred to avoid ye,
Or wh[e]ther dead, and no kind earth to cover ’em;
Was this a Lovers part? but heaven has found ye,
And in his loudest voice, his voice of thunder,
And in the mutiny of his deep wonders,
He tells ye now, ye weep too late:
Alb. Let these tears tell how I honor ye;
Ye know dear Lady, since ye are mine,
How truly I have lov’d ye, how sanctimoniously
Observ’d your honor; not one lascivious word,
Not one touch Lady; no, not a hope that might not render me
The unpolluted servant of your chastity;
For you I put to sea, to seek your Brother;
Your Captain, yet your slave, that his redemption,
If he be living, where the Sun has circuit,
May expiate your rigor, and my rashness.
Amint. The storm grows greater, what shall we do?
Alb. Let’s in:
And ask heavens mercy; my strong mind yet presages,
Through all these dangers, we shall see a day yet
Shall crown your pious hopes, and my fair wishes. [Exit.

Enter Master, Sailors, Gentlemen, and Boatswain.

Mast. It must all over-board.
Boats. It clears to Sea-ward Mast.
Fling o’er the Lading there, and let’s lighten her;
All the meat, and the Cakes, we are all gone else;
That we may find her Leaks, and hold her up;
Yet save some little Bisket for the Lady,
Till we come to the Land.
Lam. Must my Goods over too?
Why honest Master? here lies all my money;
The Money I ha wrackt by usury,
To buy new Lands and Lordships in new Countreys,
‘Cause I was banish’d from mine own
I ha been this twenty years a raising it.
Tib. Out with it:
The devils are got together by the ears, who shall have it;
And here they quarrel in the clouds.
Lam. I am undone Sir:
Tib. And be undone, ’tis better than we [perish].
Lam. Oh save one Chest of Plate.
Tib. Away with it lustily, Sailors;
It was some pawn that he has got unjustly;
Down with it low enough, and let Crabs breed in’t.
Mast. Over with the Trunks too.

Enter Albert.

Alb. Take mine and spare not.
Mast. We must over with all.
Fran. Will ye throw away my Lordship
That I sold, put it into cloaths and necessaries,
To goe to sea with?
Tib. Over with it; I love to see a Lordship sink;
Sir, you left no wood upon’t, to buoy it up;
You might ha’ sav’d it else.
Fran. I am undone for ever.
Alb. Why we are all undone; would you be only happy?
Lam. Sir, you may loose too.
Tib. Thou liest; I ha’ nothing but my skin,
And my cloaths; my sword here, and my self;
Two Crowns in my pocket; two pair of Cards;
And three false Dice: I can swim like a fish
Rascal, nothing to hinder me.
Boatsw. In with her of all hands.
Mast. Come Gentlemen, come Captain, ye must help all;
My life now for the Land,
‘Tis high, and rocky, and full of perils.
Alb. However let’s attempt it.
Mast. Then cheer lustily my hearts. [Exit.

Enter Sebastian and Nicusa.

Sebast. Yes, ’tis a Ship, I see it now, a tall Ship;
She has wrought lustily for her deliverance;
Heavens mercy, what a wretched day has here been!
Nicu. To still and quiet minds that knew no misery,
It may seem wretched, but with us ’tis ordinary;
Heaven has no storm in store, nor earth no terror,
That can seem new to us.
Sebast. ‘Tis true Nicusa, if fortune were determin’d
To be wanton, and would wipe out the stories
Of mens miseries: yet we two living,
We could cross her purpose; for ’tis impossible
She should cure us, we are so excellent in our afflictions;
It would be more than glory to her blindness,
And stile her power beyond her pride, to quit us.
Nicu. Do they live still?
Sebast. Yes, and make to harbor:
Nicu. Most miserable men; I grieve their fortunes.
Sebast. How happy had they been, had the Sea cover’d em!
They leap from one calamity to another;
Had they been drown’d, they had ended all their sorrows.
What shouts of joy they make!
Nicu. Alas poor wretches, had they but once experience
Of this Island, they’d turn their tunes to wailings.
Sebast. Nay, to curses.
That ever they set foot on such calamities;
Here’s nothing but Rocks and barrenness,
Hunger, and cold to eat; here’s no Vineyards
To cheer the heart of man, no Christal Rivers,
After his labour, to refresh his body,
If he be feeble; nothing to restore him,
But heavenly hopes, nature that made those remedies,
Dares not come here, nor look on our distresses,
For fear she turn wild, like the place, and barren.
Nicu. Oh Uncle, yet a little memory of what we were,
‘Twill be a little comfort in our calamities;
When we were seated in our blessed homes,
How happy in our kindreds, in our families,
In all our fortunes!
Sebast. Curse on those French Pirats, that displanted us;
That flung us from that happiness we found there;
Constrain’d us to Sea, to save our lives, honors, and our riches,
With all we had, our kinsmen, and our jewels,
In hope to find some place free from such robbers,
Where a mighty storm sever’d our Barks,
That, where my Wife, my Daughter
And my noble Ladies that went with her,
Virgins and loving souls, to scape those Pirats.
Nicus. They are yet living; such goodness cannot perish.
Sebast. But never to me Cosin;
Never to me again; what bears their Flag-staves?
Nicu. The Arms of France sure;
Nay, doe not start, we cannot be more miserable;
Death is a cordial, now, come when it will.
Sebast. They get to shore apace, they’ll flie as fast
When once they find the place; what’s that which swims there?
Ni. A strong young man, Sir, with a handsom woman.
Hanging about his neck.
Sebast. That shews some honor;
May thy brave charity, what e’er thou art,
Be spoken in a place that may renown thee,
And not dye here.
Nicus. The Boat it seems turn’d over,
So forced to their shifts; yet all are landed:
They’re Pirates on my life.
Sebast. They will not rob us;
For none will take out misery for riches:
Come Cosin, let’s descend, and try their pities;
If we get off, a little hope walks with us;
If not, we shall but load this wretched Island
With the same shadows still, that must grow shorter. [Ex.

Enter Albert, Aminta, Tibalt, Morillat, Lamure, Master, Franvile, Surgeon, Sailors.

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