Mar. I say, once more, go about it.

You're a wise man! you'd have me linger time,
Till I have worn these clothes out. Will you go?
Make you ready, wife!

[Exit JAQUES.

Enter LADY.

Lady. I am so, mighty duke.

Mar.

Nay, for the country.

Yes; I am resolved

Lady. How, for the country?
Mar.

To see my tenants in this bravery,

Make them a sumptuous feast, with a slight show

Of Dives and Lazarus, and a squib or two,

Mar. How many dukes have you known mad? Pray speak.

Lady. You are the first, sir, and I hope the last :

But you are stark-horn mad.

Mar.

Forbear, good wife.

Lady. As I have faith, you're mad!

Sir, you shall know

There is a greater bond that ties me here,
Allegiance to the king. Has he not heap'd

Those honours on you to no other end,

But to stay you here? and shall I have a hand

In the offending such a gracious prince?

Enter BEAUFORT, LONGUEVILLE, GENTLEMAN, and MARIA.

Lady. Oh, gentlemen, we are undone !

Long.

For what?

Lady. This gentleman, the lord of Lorne, my husband,

Will be gone down to shew his playfellows

Where he is gay.

Beau. What, down into the country?

Lady. Yes, 'faith. Was ever fool but he so cross?

I would as fain be gracious to him,

As he could wish me; but he will not let me.
Speak faithfully, will he deserve my mercy?

Long. According to his merits, he should have
A guarded coat and a great wooden dagger.

Lady. If there be any woman that doth know
The duties 'twixt a husband and his wife,
Will speak but one word for him, he shall 'scape:
Is not that reasonable? But there's none.
(Aside) Be ready therefore to pursue the plot
We had against a pinch; for he must stay.

Long. (aside) Wait you here for him, whilst I go,
And make the king acquainted with your sport,
For fear he be incensed for your attempting

Mar. I cannot choose but kiss thy royal lips,

Dear duchess mine, thou art so good a woman.

Beau. You'd say so, if you knew all, goodman Duckling!

[Exit.

[Aside.

Clermont. (a foolish kinsman) This was the happiest fortune could

befall me!

Now, in his absence, will I follow close

Mine own preferment; and I hope, ere long,

To make my mean and humble name so strong

As my great cousin's; when the world shall know

I bear too hot a spirit to live low.

The next spring will I down, my wife and household;

I'll have my ushers, and my four lacqueys,

Six spare caroches too: But mum, no more!

What I intend to do, I'll keep in store.

Mar. Montez, montez! Jaques, be our querry!

Groom. To horse there, gentlemen, and fall in couples!
Mar. Come, honour'd duchess !

K

[Aside.

Enter LONGUEVILLE.

Long. Stand, thou proud man!
Mar.

Thieves, Jaques ! raise the people!

Long. No; raise no people! 'Tis the king's command Which bids thee once more stand, thou haughty man! Thou art a monster; for thou art ungrateful;

And, like a fellow of a rebel nature,

Hast flung from his embraces: not return'd
So much as thanks; and, to oppose his will,
Resolved to leave the court, and set the realm
A-fire, in discontent and open action :
Therefore he bids thee stand, thou proud man,
Whilst, with the whisking of my sword about,
I take thy honours off: This first sad whisk
Takes off thy dukedom; thou art but an earl.

Mar. You are mistaken, Longueville.

Long. Oh, 'would I were ! This second whisk divides
Thy earldom from thee; thou art yet a baron.

Mar. No more whisks, if you love me Longueville!
Long. Two whisks are past, and two are yet behind
Yet all must come: but not to linger time,
With these two whisks I end. Now, Mount-Marine,
For thou art now no more, so says the king;
And I have done his highness' will with grief.
Mar. Degraded from my honours?

Long.

'Tis too certain.

Lady. Oh, my poor husband! what a heavy fortune Is fallen upon him!

Beau. Methinks 't is strange,

That, Heaven forewarning great men of their falls
With such plain tokens, they should not avoid 'em :

For the last night, betwixt eleven and twelve,
Two great and hideous blazing stars were seen

To fight a long hour by the clock, the one

Dress'd like a duke, the other like a king;

Till at the last the crowned star o'ercame.

Gent. Why do you stand so dead, Monsieur Marine ?
Mar. So Cæsar fell, when in the capitol
They gave his body two-and-thirty wounds.
Be warned, all ye peers; and, by my fall,
Hereafter learn to let your wives rule all!

Marine is finally permitted to think himself a Duke, but only in secret.

Gent. (aside to Marine) Hark ye, sir;

The king doth know you are a duke.

Mar.

No! does he?

Gent. Yes; and content you shall be; with this cautionThat none know it but yourself; for, if you do,

He'll take 't away by act of parliament.

Mar. Here is my hand; and whilst I live or breathe,

No living wight shall know I am a duke.

Gent. Mark me directly, sir; your wife may know it.
Mar. May n't Jaques ?

Gent.

Mar.

Yes,
he

may.

May n't my cousin?

Gent. By no means, sir, if you love life and state.

Mar. (out loud) Well then, know all, I'm no duke.

Lady. (aside) As I could wish. (Aloud) Let all young sprightly

wives,

That have dull foolish coxcombs to their husbands,

Learn by me all their duties, what to do,

Which is, to make 'em fools, and please 'em too!