part liv

'd long imprison'd, True love despising fear, runs thus to meet it.

_Claris._ In duty I kneel to it.

_Alber._ Hence vile wretches, To you I am a substance incorporeal, And not to be prophan'd, with your vile touch? That could so soon forget me, but such things Are neither worth my Anger, nor reproof. To you great Sir, I turn my self and these Immediate Ministers of your Government, And if in my rude language I transgress; Ascribe it to the cold remembrance of My services, and not my rugged temper.

_Duke._ Speak freely, be thy language ne'er so bitter, To see thee safe _Alberto_, signes thy pardon.

_Alber._ My pardon? I can need none, if it be not Receiv'd for an offence. I tamely bear Wrongs, which a slave-born _Muscovite_ would check at. Why if for Treason I had been deliver'd Up to the Hangmans Axe, and this dead trunk Unworthy of a Christian Sepulchre; Expos'd a prey to feed the ravenous Vulture, The memory of the much I oft did for you, Had you but any touch of gratitude, Or thought of my deservings, would have stopp'd you From these unjust proceedings.

_Duke._ Hear the motives that did induce us.

_Alber._ I have heard them all, Your Highness sentence, the whole Court abus'd, By the perjuries and practice of this woman. (Wepest thou _Crocodile_) my hopeful son, Whom I dare swear mine own, degraded of The honors that descend to him from me: And from that, in his love scorn'd by a creature Whose base birth, though made eminent by her beauty, Might well have mark'd her out _Cesario's_ servant, All this I could have pardon'd and forgot; But that my daughter with my whole Estate So hardly purchas'd, is assign'd a Dower; To one whose Father, and whose Family I so detest; that I would lose my essence And be transformed to a Basiliske To look them dead, to me's an injury Admits no satisfaction.

_Bap._ There's none offer'd.

_Alber._ Nor would not be accepted, Though upon thy knees 'twere tender'd.

_Maria._ Now the storm grows high.

_Bap._ But that I thought thee dead, and in thy death The brinie Ocean had entomb'd thy name; I would have sought a Wife in a _Bordello_ For my _Mentivole_, and gladly hugg'd Her spurious issue as my lawful Nephews, Before his blood should e'er have mix'd with thine; So much I scorn it.

_Alber._ I'll not bandy words, but thus dissolve the contract.

_Bap._ There I meet thee, and seize on what's mine own.

_Alber._ For all my service, Great Sir, grant me the combat with this wretch, That I may scourge his insolence.

_Bap._ I kneel for it.

_Cesar._ And to approve my self _Alberto's_ Son, I'll be his second upon any odds, 'Gainst him that dare most of _Baptista's_ race.

_Menti._ Already upon honourable terms, In me thou hast met thy better, for her sake I'll add no more.

_Alber._ Sir, let our swords decide it.

_Maria._ Oh stay Sir, and as you would hold the Title Of a just Prince, e'r you grant licence to These mad-mens fury, lend your private ear To the most distress'd of Women.

_Duke._ Speak, 'tis granted. [_He takes_ Mariana _aside_.

_Clar._ In the mean time, let not _Clarissa_ be A patient looker on, though as yet doubtful, To whom to bend her knee first, yet to all I stoop thus low in duty, and would wash The dust of fury with my Virgin tears, From his bless'd feet, and make them beautiful That would move to conditions of peace, Though with a snail-like pace, they all are wing'd To bear you to destruction: reverend Sirs, Think on your antient friendship cemented With so much bloud, but shed in noble action, Divided now in passion for a brawl; The Makers blush to own, much lov'd _Cesario_. Brother, or friend, (each Title may prevail,) Remember with what tenderness from our childhood We lov'd together, you preferring me Before your self, and I so fond of you That it begot suspition in ill minds That our affection was incestuous. Think of that happy time, in which I know That with your dearest bloud you had prevented This shower of tears from me; _Mentivole_, My Husband, registred in that bright star-chamber, Though now on earth made strangers, be the example And offer in one hand the peaceful _Olive_ Of concord, or if that can be denied By powerful intercession in the other Carry the _Hermian_ rod, and force attonement, Now we will not be all marble. Death's the worst then And he shall be my Bridegroom. [_Offers to kill her self._

_Ment._ Hold _Clarissa_, his loving violence needs must Offer in spite of honor.-- [_He snatches away her knife, and sets it to his own breast, she staies his hand._

_Duke._ Was it to that end then on your Religion?

_Mar._ And my hope in Heaven, Sir.

_Duke._ We then will leave intreaties, and make use Of our authority, must I cry ai-me To this unheard of insolence? in my presence To draw your swords, and as all reverence That's due to Majesty were forfeited, Cherish this wildeness! sheath them instantly, And shew an alteration in your looks, or by my power.

_Alber._ Cut off my head.

_Bap._ And mine, rather than hear of peace with this bad man. I'll not alone, give up my throat, but suffer Your rage to reach my family.

_Enter_ Prospero, Juliana, Biancha.

_Alb._ And my name to be no more remembred.

_Duke._ What are these?

_Ces. Biancha_, 'tis _Biancha_, still _Biancha_: but strangely alter'd.

_Bapt._ If that thirteen years Of absence could raze from my memory The figure of my friend, I might forget thee; But if thy Image be graven on my heart, Thou art my _Prospero_.

_Pros._ Thou my _Baptista_?

_Duke._ A suddain change!

_Bap._ I dare not ask, dear friend If _Juliana_ live! for that's a blessing I am unworthy of, but yet denie not To let me know the place she hath made happy By having there her Sepulchre.

_Pros._ If your Highness please to vouchsafe a patient Ear, we shall make a true relation of a story That shall call on your wonder.

_Duke._ Speak, we hear you.

_Pros. Baptista_'s fortune in the _Genoua_ Court, His banishment, with his fair Wife's restraint You are acquainted with; what since hath follow'd I faithfully will deliver. E'r eight Moons After _Baptista_'s absence were compleat, Fair _Juliana_ found the pleasures, that They had injoy'd together, were not barren, And blushing at the burthen of her womb, No father near to own it, it drew on A violent sickness, which call'd down compassion From the angry Duke, then careful of her health. Physitians were enquir'd of, and their judgment Prescrib'd the Baths of _Luca_ as a means For her recovery; to my charge it pleas'd her To be committed; but as on the way We journey'd, those throws only known to Women Came thick upon her, in a private Village.

_Bap._ She died?

_Pros._ Have patience, she brought to the world A hopeful Daughter; for her bodies sickness It soon decay'd, but the grief of her mind Hourly increas'd, and life grew tedious to her, And desperate e'er to see you; she injoyn'd me To place her in a _Greekish_ Monastery, And to my care gave up her pretty Daughter.

_Bapt._ What Monastery? as a Pilgrim bare-foot, I'll search it out.

_Pros._ Pray you interrupt me not, Now to my fortunes; the girl well dispos'd of With a faithful friend of mine, my cruel fate Made me a prisoner to the _Turkish_ Gallies, Where for 12 years, these hands tugg'd at the Oar, But fortune tyr'd at length with my afflictions, Some Ships of _Maltha_ met the _Ottoman_ Fleet, Charg'd them, and boarded them, and gave me freedom. With my deliverers I serv'd, and got Such reputation with the great Master That he gave me command over a tall And lusty ship, where my first happy service Was to redeem _Alberto_ rumour'd dead, But was like me surpriz'd by _Cortugogly_.

_Alber._ I would I had died there.

_Pros._ And from him learning _Baptista_ liv'd, and their dissolv'd friendship, I hois'd up sails for _Greece_, found _Juliana_ A votary at her Beads; having made known Both that you liv'd, and where you were: she borrow'd So much from her devotion, as to wish me To bring her to you; if the object please you, With joy receive her.

_Bapt._ Rage and fury leave me. [_Throws away his sword._ I am so full of happiness, there's no room left To entertain you, oh my long lost Jewel, Light of mine eyes, my souls strength.

_Julia._ My best Lord, having embrac'd you thus, Death cannot fright me.

_Bapt._ Live long to do so, though I should fix here. Pardon me _Prospero_, though I enquire my daughters fortune.

_Pros._ That your happiness May be at all parts perfect, here she is!

_Ces. Biancha_, daughter to a Princess.

_Pros._ True with my faithful Host I left her, And with him till now she hath resided, Ignorant both of her birth and greatness.

_Bap._ Oh my blest one. Joy upon joy o'erwhelms me.

_Duke._ Above wonder.

_Alb._ I do begin to melt too, this strange story Works much upon me.

_Duke._ Since it hath pleas'd heaven To grace us with this miracle, I that am Heavens instrument here, determine thus; _Alberto_ Be not unthankful for the blessings shown you, Nor you _Baptista_; discord was yet never A welcome sacrifice; therefore rage laid by, Embrace as friends, and let pass'd difference Be as a dream forgotten.

_Bap._ 'Tis to me.

_Alber._ And me, and thus confirm it.

_Duke._ And to tye it In bonds not to be broken, with the marriage Of young _Mentivole_, and fair _Clarissa_, So you consent great Lady, your _Biancha_ Shall call _Cæsario_ Husband.

_Julia._ 'Tis a motion I gladly yield to.

_Cesar._ One in which you make a sad man happy. [_Offers to kneel._

_Bian._ Kneel not, all forgiven.

_Duke._ With the Duke your Uncle I will make attonement, and will have no denial.

_Enter Host_, Forobosco, _Clown and Officers_.

_Mar._ Let this day be still held sacred.

_Host._ Now if you can conjure, let the Devil unbind you.

_Foro._ We are both undone.

_Clow._ Already we feel it.

_Host._ Justice Sir.

_Duke._ What are they?

_Pros._ I can resolve you, slaves freed from the Gallies By the Viceroy of _Sicilia_.

_Duke._ What's their offence?

_Host._ The robbing me of all my Plate and Jewels, I mean the attempting of it.

_Clow._ Please your Grace I will now discover this Varlet in earnest, this honest pestilent rogue, profest the Art of Conjuring, but all the skill that ever he had in the black Art, was in making a Seacole fire; only with wearing strange shapes, he begot admiration amongst Fools and Women.

_Foro._ Wilt thou peach thou varlet?

_Duke._ Why does he goggle with his eyes, and stalke so?

_Clow._ This is one of his Magical raptures.

_Foro._ I do vilifie your censure, you demand if I am guilty, whir says my cloak by a trick of Legerdemain, now I am not guilty, I am guarded with innocence, pure Silver Lace I assure you.

_Clow._ Thus have I read to you your virtues, which notwithstanding I would not have you proud of.

_Foro._ Out thou concealment of Tallow, and counterfeit _Mummia_.

_Duke._ To the Gallies with them both.

_Clow._ The only Sea-physick for a knave, is to be basted in a Gally, with the oil of a Bulls Peesel.

_Foro._ And will not you make a sour face at the same sauce, sirrah? I hope to find thee so lean in one fortnight, thou mayst be drawn by the ears through the hoop of [a] firkin.

_Duke._ Divide them, and away with them to th' Gallies.

_Clow._ This will take down your pride, Jugler.

_Duke._ This day that hath given birth to blessings beyond hope, admits no criminal sentence: to the Temple, and there with humbleness, praise heavens bounties;

For blessings ne'er descend from thence, but when A sacrifice in thanks ascends from men. [_Exeunt omnes._

CUPID'S REVENGE.

The Persons represented in the Play.

Cupid. Leontius, _the old Duke of_ Lycia. Leucippus, _Son to the Duke_. Ismenus, _Nephew to the Duke_. Telamon, _a_ Lycian _Lord_. Dorialus, } Agenor, } _Courtiers_. Nisus, } Timantus, _a villainous Sycophant_. The Priest _of_ Cupid. _Four young Men and Maids._ Nilo, _sent in Commission to pull down_ Cupid_'s Image_. Zoilus, Leucippus_'s Dwarf_. _Four Citizens._

WOMEN.

Hidaspes, _Daughter to the Duke_. Cleophila, _and_ Hero _her Attendants_. Bacha, _a Strumpet_. Urania, _her Daughter_. Bacha's _Maid_. Urania's _Maid._ _Servants and Attendants._

_Actus Primus. Scæna Prima._

_Enter_ Dorialus, Agenor, Nisus.

_Agenor._ Trust me my Lord _Dorialus_, I had mist of this, if you had not call'd me; I thought the Princesses birth-day had been to morrow.

_Nisus._ Why, did your Lordship sleep out the day?

_Dor._ I marvel what the Duke meant to make such an idle vow.

_Nis._ Idle, why?

_Dor._ Is't not idle, to swear to grant his Daughter any thing she shall ask on her birth-day? she may ask an impossible thing: and I pray heaven she do not ask an unfit thing at one time or other; 'tis dangerous trusting a mans vow upon the discretion on's Daughter.

_Age._ I wonder most at the Marquis her Brother, who is always vehemently forward to have her desires granted.

_Dor._ He's acquainted with 'em before.

_Age._ She's doubtless very chaste and virtuou.

_Dor._ So is _Leucippus_ her brother.

_Nis._ She's twenty year old, I wonder She aske not a Husband.

_Dor._ That were a folly in her; having refus'd all the Great Princes in one part of the world; She'll die a Maid.

_Age._ She may ask but one, may she?

_Nis._ A hundred times this day if she will; And indeed, every day is such a day, for though The Duke has vow'd it only on this day, He keeps it every day: he can deny Her nothing. [_Cornets._

_Enter_ Hidaspes, Leucippus, Leontius, _Timantas_, _Tellamon_.

_Leon._ Come fair _Hidaspes_, thou art Duchess to day, Art thou prepar'd to aske, thou knowest My oath will force performance. And _Leucippus_, if she now ask ought that shall, Or would have performance After my death, when by the help of heaven, This Land is thine, accursed be thy race, May every one forget thou art my Son, And so their own obedience.

_Leucip._ Mighty Sir, I do not wish to know that fatal hour, That is to make me King, but if I do, I shall most hastily, (and like a Son) Perform your grant[s] to all, chiefly to her: Remember that you aske what we Agreed upon.

_Leon._ Are you prepar'd? then speak.

_Hida._ Most Royal Sir, I am prepar'd, Nor shall my Will exceed a Virgins bounds, What I request shall both at once bring Me a full content.

_Leon._ So it ever does: Thou only comfort of my feeble age, Make known thy good desire, For I dare swear thou lov'st me.

_Hidas._ This is it I beg, And on my knees. The people of your Land, The _Lycians_, are through all the Nations That know their name, noted to have in use A vain and fruitless superstition; So much more hateful, that it bears the shew Of true Religion, and is nothing else But a false-pleasing bold lasciviousness.

_Leon._ What is it?

_Hidas._ Many ages before this, When every man got to himself a Trade, And was laborious in that chosen course, Hating an idle life, far worse than death: Some one that gave himself to Wine and Sloth, Which breed lascivious thoughts; And found himself conjoyn'd For that by every painful man, To take his stain away, fram'd to himself A _god_, whom he pretended to obey, In being thus dishonest, for a name He call'd him _Cupid_. This created _god_, Mans nature being ever credulous Of any vice that takes part with his blood, Had ready followers enow: and since In every age they grew, especially Amongst your Subjects, who do yet remain Adorers of that drowsie Deitie: Which drink invented: and the winged Boy, (For so they call him) has his sacrifices. These loose naked statues through the Land, And in every Village, nay the palace Is not free from 'em. This is my request, That these erect[ed] obscene Images May be pluckt down and burnt: and every man That offers to 'em any sacrifice, may lose his life.

_Leon._ But be advis'd my fairest daughter, if he be A god, he will express it upon thee my child: Which heaven avert.

_Leucip._ There is no such power: But the opinion of him fills the Land With lustful sins: every young man and maid That feel the least desire to one another, Dare not suppress it, for they think it is Blind _Cupid's_ motion: and he is a god.

_Leon._ This makes our youth unchaste. I am resolv'd: Nephew _Ismenus_, break the Statues down Here in the Palace, and command the City Do the like, let proclamations Be drawn, and hastily sent through the Land To the same purpose.

_Ismen._ Sir, I will break down none my self, But I will deliver your command: Hand I will have none in't, for I like it not.

_Leon._ Goe and command it. Pleasure of my life, Wouldst thou ought else? make many thousand suits, They must and shall be granted.

_Hid._ Nothing else. [_Exit_ Ismenus.

_Leon._ But go and meditate on other suits, Some six days hence I'll give thee Audience again, And by a new oath, bind my self to keep it: Ask largely for thy self, dearer than life In whom I may be bold to call my self, More fortunate than any in my age, I will deny thee nothing.

_Leu._ 'Twas well done, Sister. [_Exeunt all but these three Lords._

_Nis._ How like you this request my Lord[s]?

_Dor._ I know not yet, I am so full of wonder, We shall be gods our selves shortly, And we pull 'em out of Heaven o' this fashion.

_Age._ We shall have wenches now when we can Catch 'em, and we transgress thus.

_Nis._ And we abuse the gods once, 'tis a Justice We should be held at hard meat: for my part, I'll e'en make ready for mine own affection, I know the god incenst must send a hardness Through all good Womens hearts, and then we have Brought our Eggs and Muskadine to a fair Market: Would I had giv'n a 100 l. for a tolleration, That I might but use my conscience in mine Own house.

_Dor._ The Duke he's old and past it, he would Never have brought such a plague upon the Land else, 'Tis worse than Sword and Famine: Yet to say truth, we have deserv'd it, we have liv'd So wickedly, every man at his Livery, and wou'd that Wou'd have suffic'd us: we murmur'd at this Blessing, that was nothing; and cry'd out to the God for endless pleasures, he heard us, And supp[l]ied us, and our Women were new still As we need 'em: yet we like beasts still cry'd, Poor men can number their woers, give us Abundance: we had it, and this curse withal.

_Age._ Berlady we are like to have a long _Lent_ on't, Flesh shall be flesh: now Gentlemen I had rather Have anger'd all the gods, than that blind Gunner. I remem[b]er once the people did but slight him In a sacrifice: and what followed? Women kept their houses, grew good huswives Honest forsooth! was not that fine? Wore their own faces, Though they wear gay cloaths without surveying, And which was most lamentable, They lov'd their Husbands.

_Nis._ I do remember it to my grief, Young Maids were as cold as Cowcumbers And much of that complexion: Bawds were abolisht: and, to which misery It must come again, There were no Cuckolds, Well, we had need pray to keep these Divels from us, The times grow mischievous. There he goes, Lord!

_Enter one with an Image._

This is a sacriledge I have not heard of: Would I were gelt, that I might not Feel what follows.

_Age._ And I too. You shall see within these Few years, a fine confusion i'the Countrey: mark it: Nay, and we grow for to depose the Powers, And set up Chastity again, well, I have done. A fine new goddess certainly, whose blessings Are hunger and hard beds.

_Nis._ This comes of fulness, a sin too frequent with us I believe now we shall find shorter commons.

_Dor._ Would I were married, somewhat has some favour; The race of Gentry will quite run out now, 'Tis only left to Husbands, if younger Sisters Take not the greater charity, 'tis lawful.

_Age._ Well, let come what will come, I am but one, and as the plague falls, I'll shape my self: If Women will be honest, I'll be sound. If the _god_ be not too unmerciful, I'll take a little still, where I can get it, And thank him, and say nothing.

_Nis._ This ill wind yet may blow the City good, And let them, (if they can) get their own children, They have hung long enough in doubt, but howsoever, the old way was the surer, then they had 'em.

_Dor._ Farewel my Lords, I'll e'en take up what Rent I can before the day, I fear the year will fall out ill.

_Age._ We'll with you Sir: And love so favour us, As we are still thy servants. Come my Lords; Let's to the Duke, and tell him to what folly His doting now has brought him. [_Exeunt._

_Priest of_ Cupid, _with four young men_ _and Maids_.

_Priest._ Come my children, let your feet, In an even measure meet: And your chearful voices rise, For to present this Sacrifice; Lo great _Cupid_, in whose name, I his _Priest_ begin the same. Young men take your Loves and kiss, Thus our _Cupid_ honour'd is Kiss again, and in your kissing, Let no promises be missing: Nor let any Maiden here, Dare to turn away her ear, Unto the whisper of her Love, But give Bracelet, Ring or Glove, As a token to her sweeting, Of an after secret meeting: Now boy sing to stick our hearts Fuller of great _Cupid's_ darts.

SONG.

_Lovers rejoyce, your pains shall be rewarded,_ _The god of Love himself grieves at your crying:_ _No more shall frozen honor be regarded,_ _Nor the coy faces of a Maids denying._ _No more shall Virgins sigh, and say we dare not,_ _For men are false, and what they do they care not,_ _All shall be well again, then do not grieve,_ _Men shall be true, and Women shall believe._

_Lovers rejoyce, what you shall say henceforth._ _When you have caught your Sweet-hearts in your arms,_ _It shall be accounted Oracle, and Worth:_ _No more faint-hearted Girls shall dream of harms,_ _And cry they are too young, the god hath said,_ _Fifteen shall make a Mother of a Maid:_ _Then wise men, pull your Roses yet unblown,_ _Love hates the too ripe fruit that falls alone._

The Measure.

_After the Measure, Enter_ Nilo _and others_.

_Nilo._ No more of this: here break your Rights for ever, The Duke commands it so; Priest do not stare, I must deface your Temple, though unwilling, And your god _Cupid_ here must make a Scare-crow For any thing I know, or at the best, Adorn a Chimney-piece.

_Priest._ Oh Sacriledge unheard of!

_Nilo._ This will not help it, take down the Image[s] And away with 'em. Priest, change your coat you had best, all service now Is given to men: Prayers above their hearing Will prove but bablings: learn to lye and thrive, 'Twill prove your best profession: for the gods, He that lives by 'em now, must be a beggar. There's better holiness on earth they say, Pray God it ask not greater sacrifice. Go home, And if [y]our god be not deaf as well as blind, He will [make] some smoak for it.

_Gent._ Sir--

_Nilo._ Gentlemen, there is no talking, This must be done and speedily; I have commission that I must not break.

_Gent._ We are gone, to wonder what shall follow.

_Nilo._ On to the next Temple. [_Exeunt._

_Cornets. Descendit Cupid._

_Cupid._ Am I then scorn'd? is my all-doing Will And Power, that knows no limit, nor admits none, Now look'd into by less than gods? and weak'ned Am I, whose Bow struck terror through the earth, No less than Thunder, and in this, exceeding Even gods themselves; whose knees before my Altars Now shook off; and contemn'd by such, whose lives Are but my recreation! anger rise My sufferance and my self are made the subject Of sins against us. Go thou out displeasure, Displeasure of a great god, flying thy self Through all this Kingdom: sow what ever evils Proud flesh is [taking of], amongst these Rebels: And on the first heart that despise my Greatness, Lay a strange misery, that all may know _Cupid's_ revenge is mighty; with his Arrow Hotter than plagues or mine own anger, will I Now nobly right my self: nor shall the prayers Nor [sweete] smoaks on my Altars hold my hand, Till I have left this a most wretched Land. [_Exit._

_Enter_ Hidaspes, _and Cleophila_.

_Hidas. Cleophila_, what was he that went hence?

_Cleo._ What means your Grace now?

_Hidas._ I mean that handsome man, That something more than man I met at door.

_Cleo._ Here was no handsome man.

_Hidas._ Come, he's some one You would preserve in private, but you want Cunning to do it, and my eyes are sharper Than yours, and can with one neglecting glance, See all the graces of a man. Who was't?

_Cleo._ That went hence now?

_Hidas._ That went hence now, I, he.

_Cleo._ Faith here was no such one as your Grace thinks. _Zoylous_ your Brothers Dwarf went out but now.

_Hidas._ I think 'twas he: how bravely he past by: Is he not grown a goodly Gentleman?

_Cleo._ A goodly Gentleman, Madam? He is the most deformed fellow i'the Land.

_Hidas._ Oh blasphemy: he may perhaps to thee Appear deform'd, for he is indeed Unlike a man: his shape and colours are Beyond the Art of Painting; he is like Nothing that we have seen, yet doth resemble _Apollo_, as I oft have fancied him, When rising from his bed, he stirs himself And shakes day from his hair.

_Cleo._ He resembles _Apollo_'s Recorder.

_Hidas. Cleophila_, go send a Page for him, And thou shalt see thy error, and repent. [_Exit_ Cleo. Alas, what do I feel, my bloud rebells, And I am one of those I us'd to scorn, My Maiden-thoughts are fled against my self, I harbor Traitors in my Virginity, That from my Childhood kept me company, Is heavier than I can endure to bear: Forgive me _Cupid_, for thou art a god, And I a wretched creature; I have sinn'd, But be thou merciful, and grant that yet I may enjoy what thou wilt have me, Love.

_Enter_ Cleo. _and_ Zoy.

[_Cleo._] _Zoylous_ is here Madam.

_Hida._ He's there indeed. Now be thine own Judge; see thou worse than mad, Is he deformed? look upon those eyes, That let all pleasure out into the world, Unhappy that they cannot see themselves; Look on his hair, that like so many beams, Streaking the _East_, shoot light o'er half the world, Look on him altogether, who is made As if two Natures had contention About their skill, and one had brought forth him.

_Zoy._ Ha, ha, ha: Madam, though Nature Hath not given me so much As others in my outward shew; I bear a heart as loyal unto you In this unsightly body (which you please To make your mirth) as many others do That are far more befriended in their births; Yet I could wish my self much more deformed Than yet I am, so I might make your Grace More merry than you are, ha, ha, ha.

_Hidas._ Beshrew me then if I be merry; But I[am] content whilst thou art with me: Thou that art my Saint: By hope of whose mild favour I do live To tell thee so: I pray thee scorn me not; Alas what can it add unto thy worth To triumph over me, that am a Maid, Without deceit? whose heart doth guide her tongue, Drown'd in my passions; yet I will take leave To call it reason that I dote on thee.

_Cleo._ The Princess is besides her Grace I think, To talk thus with a fellow that will hardly Serve i'th' dark when one is drunk.

_Hida._ What answer wilt thou give me?

_Zoy._ If it please your Grace to jest on, I can abide it.

_Hida._ If it be jest, not to esteem my life, Compar'd with thee: If it be jest in me, To hang a thousand kisses in an hour Upon those Lips, and take 'em off again: If it be jest for me to marry thee, And take obedience on me whilst I live: Then all I say is jest: For every part of this, I swear by those That see my thoughts, I am resolv'd to do, And I beseech thee, by thine own white hand, (Which pardon me, that I am bold to kiss With so unworthy Lips) that thou wilt swear To marry me, as I do here to thee, Before the face of heaven.

_Zoy._ Marry you? ha, ha, ha.

_Hida._ Kill me or grant, wilt thou not speak at all?

_Zoy._ Why I will do your Will for ever.

_Hida._ I ask no more: but let me kiss that mouth That is so merciful; that is my will: Next go with me before the King in haste, That is my Will; where I will make our Peers Know, that thou art their better.

_Zoy._ Ha, ha, ha, that is fine, ha, ha, ha.

_Cleo._ Madam, what means your Grace? Consider for the love of Heaven to what You run madly; will you take this Viper Into your bed?

_Hida._ Away, hold off thy hands: Strike her sweet _Zoylous_, for it is my Will, Which thou hast sworn to doe.

_Zoy._ Away for shame. Know you no manners: ha, ha, ha. [_Exit._

_Cleo._ Thou know'st none I fear, This is just _Cupid_'s Anger, _Venus_ look down mildly on us: And command thy Son to spare this Lady once, and let me be in love with [all]: and none in love with me. [_Exit._

_Enter_ Ismenus, _and_ Timantus.

_Timan._ Is your Lordship for the Wars this Summer?

_Ismen. Timantus_, wilt thou go with me?

_Timan._ If I had a Company, my Lord.

_Ismen._ Of Fidlers: Thou a company? No, no, keep thy Company at home, and cause cuckolds: The Wars will hurt thy face, there's no Semsters, Shoomakers, nor Taylors, nor Almond-milk i'th' morning, Nor poach'd Egs to keep your worship soluble, No man to warm your Shirt, and blow your Roses: Nor none to reverence your round lace Breeches: If thou wilt needs goe, and goe thus, Get a Case for thy Captainship, a shower will spoil thee else. Thus much for thee.

_Tim._ Your Lordship's wondrous witty, very pleasant believe't.

[_Exit._

_Enter_ Telamon, Dorialus, Agenor, Nisus, Leonti.

_Leon._ No news yet of my Son?

_Tela._ Sir, there be divers out in search: No doubt they'll bring the truth where he is, Or the occasion that led him hence.

_Tim._ They have good eyes then.

_Leon._ The gods goe with them: Who be those that wait there?

_Tele._ The Lord _Ismenus_, your General, for his dispatch.

_Leon._ Oh Nephew: we have no use to imploy your Virtue in our War: now the Province is well setled. Hear you aught of the Marquis?

_Ismen._ No Sir.

_Leon._ 'Tis strange he should be gone thus: These five days he was not seen.

_Tim._ I'll hold my [life], I could bolt him in an hour:

_Leon._ Where's my Daughter?

_Dori._ About the purging of the Temples, Sir.

_Leon._ She's chaste and virtuous; fetch her to me, And tell her I am pleas'd to grant her now Her last request, without repenting me. [_Exit_ Nis. Be it what it will: she is wise, _Dorialus_ And will not press me farther than a Father.

_Dor._ I pray the best may follow; yet if your Grace Had taken the opinions of your people, At least of such, whose wisdoms ever wake About your safety, I may say it, Sir, Under your noble pardon: that this change Either had been more honor to the gods, Or I think not at all. Sir, the Princess.

_Enter_ Hidaspes, Nisus, _and_ Zoylus.

_Leon._ Oh my Daughter, my health! And did I say my soul, I ly'd not; Thou art so near me, speak, and have whatever Thy wise Will leads thee too: had I a Heaven, It were too poor a place for such a goodness.

_Dor._ What's here?

_Agen._ An Apes skin stuft I think, 'tis so plump.

_Hida._ Sir, you have past your word, Still be a Prince, and hold you to it. Wonder not I press you, my life lies in your word: If you break that, you have broke my heart, I must ask That's my shame, and your Will must not deny me: Now for Heaven be not forsworn.

_Leon._ By the gods I will not, I cannot, were there no other power, Than my love call'd to a witness of it.

_Dor._ They have much reason to trust, You have forsworn one of 'em out o'th' countrey already.

_Hida._ Then this is my request: This Gent. Be not ashamed, Sir: You are worth a Kingdom.

_Leon._ In what?

_Hida._ In the way of marriage.

_Leon._ How?

_Hida._ In the way of marriage, it must be so, Your oath is ti'd to Heaven: as my love to him.

_Leon._ I know thou dost but try my age, Come ask again.

_Hida._ If I should ask all my life-time, this is all still. Sir, I am serious, I must have this worthy man without enquiring why; and suddenly, and freely: Doe not look for reason or obedience in my words: My love admits no wisdom: Only haste, and hope hangs on my fury, Speak Sir, speak, but not as a Father, I am deaf and dull to counsel: inflamed blood Hears nothing but my Will; For Gods sake speak.

_Dor._ Here's a brave alteration.

_Nis._ This comes of Chastity.

_Hida._ Will not you speak Sir?

_Agen._ The god begins his vengeance; what a sweet youth he has sent us here, with a pudding in's belly!

_Leon._ Oh let me never speak, Or with my words let me speak out my life; Thou power abus'd: great Love, whose vengeance now we feel and fear, have mercy on this Land.

_Nis._ How does your Grace?

_Leon._ Sick, very sick I hope.

_Dor._ Gods comfort you.

_Hida._ Will not you speak? is this your Royal word? Do not pull perjurie upon your soul. Sir, you are old, and near your punishment; remember.

_Leon._ Away base woman.

_Hidas._ Then be no more my Father, but a plague, I am bound to pray against: be any sin May force me to despair, and hang my self, Be thy name never more remembred King But in example of a broken faith, And curst even to forgetfulness: May thy Land bring forth such Monsters as thy Daughter is! I am weary of my rage. I pray forgive me, And let me have him, will you Noble Sir?

_Leon._ Mercy, mercy heaven: Thou heir of all dishonor, shamest thou not to draw This little moisture left for life, thus rudely from me? Carry that slave to death.

_Zoy._ For heavens sake Sir, it is no fault of mine, That she will love me.

_Leon._ To death with him, I say.

_Hida._ Then make haste Tyrant, or I'll be for him: This is the way to Hell.

_Leon._ Hold fast, I charge you away with him.

_Hida._ Alas old man, Death hath more doors than one, And I will meet him. [_Exit_ Hida.

_Leon. Dorialus_, Pray see her in her chamber, And lay a guard about her: The greatest curse the gods lay on our frailties, Is Will and Disobedience in our Issues, Which we beget as well as them to plague us, With our fond loves; Beasts you are only blest That have that happy dulness to forget What you have made, your young ones grieve not you They wander where they list, and have their ways Without dishonor to you; and their ends, Fall on 'em without sorrow of their Parents, Or after ill remembrance: Oh this Woman Would I had made my self a Sepulcher, When I made her: Nephew, where is the Prince? Pray God he have not more part of her baseness Than of her bloud about him. Gentlemen: where is he?

_Ism._ I know not Sir. H'as his ways by himself, is too wise for my company.

_Leon._ I do not like this hiding of himself, From such society as his person: Some of it ye needs must know.

_Isme._ I am sure not I: nor have known twice this ten days, which if I were as proud as some of 'em, I should take scurvily, but he is a young man. Let him have [his] swinge, 'twill make him.

[Timantus _whispers to the Duke_.

There's some good matter now in hand: How the slave jeers and grins; the Duke is pleas'd, There's a new pair of Scarlet Hose now, and as much Money to spare, as will fetch the old from pawn, a Hat and a Cloak to goe out to morrow: Garters and Stockings come by nature.

_Leon._ Be sure of this.

_Tima._ I durst not speak else, Sir.

_Actus Secundus. Scæna Prima._

_Cornets. Descend_ Cupid.

_Cupid. Leucippus_ thou art shot through with a shaft That will not rankle long, yet sharp enough To sow a world of helpless misery-- In this [happie] Kingdom, dost thou think Because thou art a Prince, to make a part Against my power, but it is all the fault Of thy old Father, who believes [his] age Is cold enough to quench my burning Darts, But he shall know e'r long, that my smart loose, Can thaw Ice, and inflame the wither'd heart Of _Nestor_, thou thy self art lightly struck, But his mad love, shall publish that the rage Of _Cupid_, has the power to conquer Age. [_Exit._

_Enter_ Bacha, _and_ Leucippus, Bacha, _a Handkerchief_.

_Leu._ Why, what's the matter?

_Bacha._ Have you got the spoil You thirsted for? Oh tyrannie of men!

_Leu._ I pray thee leave.

_Bacha._ Your envy is, Heaven knows, Beyond the reach of all our feeble sex: What pain alas, could it have been to you, If I had kept mine honor? you might still Have been a Prince, and still this Countreys Heir, That innocent Guard which I till now had kept, For my defence, my virtue, did it seem So dangerous in a State, that your self came to suppress it?

_Leu._ Drie thine eyes again, I'll kiss thy tears away, This is but folly, 'tis past all help.

_Bacha._ Now you have won the treasure, 'Tis my request that you would leave me thus: And never see these empty Walls again, I know you will do so, and well you may: For there is nothing in 'em that's worth A glance, I loath my self, and am become Another Woman; One methinks with whom I want acquaintance.

_Leu._ If I do offend thee, I can be gone, And though I love thy sight, so highly do I prize thine own content, that I will leave thee.

_Bac._ Nay, you may stay now; You should have gone before: I know not now Why I should fear you: All I should have kept Is stol'n: Nor is it in the power of man To rob me farther: if you can invent, Spare not; No naked man fears robbing less Than I doe: now you may for ever stay.

_Leu._ Why, I could do thee farther wrong.

_Bac._ You have a deeper reach in evill than I: 'Tis past my thoughts.

_Leu._ And past my will to act: but trust me I could do it.

_Bac._ Good Sir do, that I may know there is a wrong beyond what you have done me.

_Leu._ I could tell all the world what thou hast done.

_Bac._ Yes you may tell the world And do you think I am so vain to hope You will not? you can tell the world but this, That I am a widow, full of tears in shew, My Husband dead: And one that lov'd me so, Hardly a week, forgot my modestie, And caught with youth and greatness, Gave my self to live in sin with you; This you may tell: And this I do deserve.

_Leu._ Why dost thou think me so base to tell! These limbs of mine shall part From one another on a wrack, Ere I disclose; But thou dost utter words That much afflict me: you did seem as ready Sweet _Bacha_, as my self.

_Bac._ You are right a man: when they have 'witcht us into miserie, poor innocent souls, They lay the fault on us: But be it so; for Prince _Leucippus_ sake I will bear any thing.

_Leucip._ Come weep no more, I wrought thee to it, it was my fault: Nay, see if thou wilt leave? Here, take this pearl, Kiss me sweet _Bacha_, and receive this purse.

_Bacha._ What should I do with these? they will not deck my mind.

_Leucip._ Why keep 'em to remember me. I must be gone, I have been absent long: I know the Duke my Father is in rage, But I will see thee suddenly again. Farewell my _Bacha_.

_Bacha._ Gods keep you, Do you he[a]re Sir: pray give me a point to wear.

_Leu._ Alas good _Bacha_, take on[e], I pray thee where thou wilt.

_Bac._ Coming from you. This Point is of as high Esteem with me, as all pearl and gold: nothing but good be ever with or near you.

_Leu._ Fare thee well mine own good _Bacha_; I will make all haste. [_Exit._

_Bacha._ Just as you are a Dosen I [e]steem you: No more, does he think I would prostitute My self for love? it was the love of these pearls And gold that won me, I confess I lust more after him than any other, And would at any rate if I had store, Purchase his fellowship: but being poor, I'll both enjoy his bodie and his purse, And he a _Prince_, nere think my self the worse.

_Enter Leontius, Leucippus, Ismenus, Timantus._

_Leon._ Nay, you must back and shew us what it is, That 'witches you out of your Honor thus.

_Bacha._ Who's that?

_Tima._ Look there Sir.

_Leon._ Lady, never flye you are betray'd.

_Bacha._ Leave me my tears a while, And to my Just rage give a little place: What saucy man are you, that without leave, Enter upon a Widows mournfull house? You hinder a dead man from many tears. Who did deserve more than the world can shed, Though they should weep themselves to Images. If not for love of me, yet of your self Away, for you can bring no [comfort] to me. But you may carry hence, you know not what. Nay sorrow is infectious.

_Leon._ Thou thy self Art grown infectious: wouldst thou know my name? I am the Duke, father to this young-man Whom thou corrupt'st.

_Bacha._ Has he th[e]n told him all?

_Leuc._ You do her wrong Sir.

_Bacha._ O he has not told. Sir I beseech you pardon My wild tongue, directed by a weak distemper'd head Madded with grief: Alas I did not know You were my Sovereign; but now you may Command my poor unworthy life, Which will be none I hope ere long.

_Leon._ All thy dissembling will never hide thy shame: And wer't not more respecting Womanhood in General, than any thing in thee, thou shouldst Be made such an example, that posteritie, When they would speak most bitterly, should say, _Thou art as impudent as Bacha was_.

_Bacha._ Sir, though you be my King, whom I will Serve in all just causes: yet when wrongfully You seek to take my Honor, I will rise Thus, and defie you; for it is a Jewell Dearer than you can give, which whilst I keep, (Though in this lowly house) I shall esteem My self above the Princes of the earth That are without it. If the Prince your son, Whom you accuse me with, know how to speak Dishonor of me, if he do not do it, The plagues of hell light on him, may he never Govern this Kingdome: here I chalenge him Before the face of heaven, my Liege, and these, To speak the worst he can: if he will lye, To lose a womans fame, I'll say he is Like you (I think I cannot call him worse.) He's dead, that with his life would have defended My reputation and I forct to play (That which I am) the foolish woman, And use my liberal tongue.

_Leu._ Is't possible! we men are children in our Carriages, compar'd with women: 'wake thy self For shame, and leave not her whose honor thou Shou'dst keep safe as thine own, alone to free her self: But I am prest I know not how, with guilt, And feel my conscience (never us'd to lye) Loth to allow my tongue to add a lye To that too much I did: but it is lawfull To defend her, that only for my Love lov'd evill.

_Leon._ Tell me, why did you _Leucip_: stay here so long?

_Leu._ If I can urge ought from me but a truth, Hell take me.

_Leon._ What's the matter, why speak you not?

_Tima._ Alas good Sir, forbear To urge the Prince, you see his shamefastness.

_Bacha._ What does he say Sir? if thou be a Prince Shew it, and tell the truth.

_Ismen._ If you have lain with her tell your Father No doubt but he has done as ill before now: The Gentlewoman will be proud on't.

_Bacha._ For God's sake speak.

_Leu._ Have you done prating yet?

_Ismen._ Who prates?

_Leu._ Thou know'st I do not speak to thee _Ismenus_: But what said you _Tima_; concerning my shamefastness?

_Tima._ Nothing I hope that might displease your Highness.

_Leu._ If any of thy great, Great-grandmothers This thousand years, had been as chast as she, It would have made thee honester, I stay'd To he[a]re what you wou'd say: she is by heaven Of the most strict and blameless chastitie That ever woman was: (good gods forgive me) Had _Tarquin_, met with her, she had been kil'd With a Slave by her ere she had agreed: I lye with her! wou'd I might perish then. Our Mothers, whom we all must reverence, Could nere exceed her for her chastitie, Upon my soul: for by this light she's A most obstinate modest creature.

_Leon._ What did you with her then so long _Leucippus_?

_Leu._ I'll tell you Sir: You see she's beautifull.

_Leon._ I see it well.

_Leu._ Mov'd by her face, I came with lustful thoughts, Which was a fault in me: But telling truth, something more pardonable, (And for the world I will not lye to you:) Proud of my self, I thought a Princes name Had power to blow 'em down flat of their backs; But here I found a Rock not to be shook: For as I hope for good Sir, all the battery That I could lay to her, or of my person, My greatness, or gold, could nothing move her.

_Leon._ 'Tis very strange, being so young and fair.

_Leu._ She's almost thirty Sir.

_Leon._ How do you know her age so just?

_Leu._ She told it me her self Once when she went about to shew by reason I should leave wooing her.

_Leon._ She stains the ripest Virgins of her age.

_Leu._ If I had sin'd with her, I would be loth To publish her disgrace: but by my life I would have told it you, because I think You would have pardon'd me the rather: And I will tell you father: By this light Sir, (But that I never will bestow my self But to your liking) if she now would have me, I now would marry her.

_Leon._ How's that _Leucippus_!

_Leu._ Sir, will you pardon me one fault, which yet I have not done, but had a will to do, and I will tell it?

_Leon._ Be't what it will I pardon thee.

_Leu._ I offered marriage to her.

_Leon._ Did she refuse it?

_Leucip._ With that earnestn[e]ss, and almost scorn To think of any other after her lost Mate, that she Made me think my self unworthy of her.

_Leon._ You have stay'd too long _Leucippus_.

_Leu._ Yes Sir, forgive me Heaven, what multitude Of oaths have I bestow'd on lies, and yet they were Officious lyes, there was no malice in 'em.

_Leon._ She is the fairest creature that ever I beheld; And then so chaste, 'tis wonderfull: the more I look On her, the more I am amaz'd. I have long thought of a wife, and one I would have Had, but that I was afraid to meet a woman That might abuse my age: but here she is Whom I may trust to; of a chastitie Impregnable, and approved so by my son: The meaness of her birth will still preserve her In due obedience; and her beauty is Of force enough to pull me back to youth. My son once sent away, whose rivall-ship I have just cause to fear, if power, o[r] gold, Or wit, can win her to me, she is mine. Nephew _Ismenus_, I have new intelligence, Your Province is unquiet still.

_Ismen._ [Ime] glad on't.

_Leon._ And so dangerously, that I must send the Prince in person with you.

_Ismen._ [Ime] glad of that too: Sir, will you dispatch us We shall wither here for ever.

_Leon._ You shall be dispatcht within this hour: _Leucippus_, never wonder, nor ask, it must be thus. Lady I ask your pardon, whose virtue I have Slubberd with my tongue, and you shall ever be Chast in my memory hereafter; But we old men often doat: to make amends for My great fault, receive that Ring: I'm sorry for your grief, may it soon leave you: Come my Lords lets begon. [_Exeunt._

_Bacha._ Heaven bless your Grace. One that had but so much modestie left, as to blush, Or shrink a little at his first encounter, Had been undone; where I come off with honor, And gain too: they that never wou'd be tract In any course, by the most subtle sense Must bear it through with frontless impudence. [_Exit._

_Enter Dorialus, Agenor, Nisus._

_Dor._ Gentlemen this is a strange peece of Justice, To put the wretched Dwarf to death because She doated on him; Is she not a woman, and Subject to those mad figaries her whole Sex Is infected with? Had she lov'd you, or you, or I, Or all on's (as indeed the more the merryer still With them) must we therefore have our heads par'd With a Hatchet? So she may love all the Nobility Out o'th Dukedome in a month, and let the raskals in.

_Nis._ You will not, or you do not see the need That makes this just to the world?

_Dor._ I cannot tell, I would be loth to feel it: But the best is, she loves not proper men, we three Were in wise cases else: but make me know this need.

[_N]is._ Why yes: He being taken away, this base incontinence dyes presently, and she must see her shame and sorrow for it.

_Dor._ Pray God she do: but was the Sprat beheaded, Or did they swing him about like a chickin, and so break his neck?

_Agen._ Yes, he was beheaded, and a solemn Justice made of it.

_Dor._ That might have been deducted.

_Agenor._ Why how would you have had him dyed?

_Dori._ Faith I would have had him rosted like a warden in a brown paper, and no more talk on't: or a feather stuck in's head, like a Quail: or a hanged him in a Dog-coller: what should he be beheaded? we shall have it grow so base shortly, Gentlemen will be out of love with it.

_Nis._ I wonder from whence this of the Dwarf's first sprung?

_Dor._ From an old leacherous pair of breeches that lay upon a wench to keep her warm: for certainly they are no mans work: and I am sure a Monkey would get one of the guard to this fellow, he was no bigger than a small Portmanteu, and much about that making if'tad legs.

_Age._ But Gentlemen, what say you to the _Prince_?

_Nis._ I, concerning his being sent I know not whither.

_Dorialus._ Why then he will come home I know not when: you shall pardon me, I'll talk no more of this subject, but say, gods be with him where ere he is, and send him well home again: For why, he is gone, or when he will return, let them know that directed him: Only this, there's mad Morisco's in the state; but what they are, I'll tell you when I know. Come, let's go, hear all, and say nothing.

_Agen._ Content. [_Exeunt._

_Enter Timantus, and Telamon._

_Tela. Timantus_, is the _Duke_ ready yet?

_Tima._ Almost.

_Tela._ What ails him?

_Tima._ Faith I know not, I think he has dreamt he's but eighteen: has been wors[e] since he sent you forth for the frizling iron.

_Tel._ That cannot be, he lay in Gloves all night, and this morning I brought him a new _Periwig_, with a lock at it, and knockt up a swing in's chamber.

_Tim._ O but since, his Taylor came, and they have fallen out about the fashion on's cloaths: and yonders a fellow come, has board a hole in's ear; and he has bespoke a Vaulting-horse, you shall see him come forth presently: he looks like Winter, stuck here and there with fresh flowers.

_Tela._ Will he not Tilt think you?

_Tima._ I think he will.

_Tela._ What does he mean to doe?

_Tim._ I know not: but by this light I think he is in love; he wou'd ha' bin shav'd but for me.

_Tela._ In love with whom?

_Tim._ I could guess, but you shall pardon me: he will take me along with him some-whither.

_Tela._ I overheard him ask your opinion of some bodies beauty.

_Tima._ Yes, there it goes, that makes him so youthfull, and h'as layd by his Crutch, and halts now with a leading staff.

_Enter Leontine with a staff and a looking glass._

_Leon. Timantus_.

_Tim._ Sir.

_Leon._ This Feather is not large enough.

_Tim._ Yes faith, 'tis such [a] one as the rest of the young Gallants wear.

_Leon. Telamon_, does it doe well?

_Tela._ Sir, it becomes you, or you become it, the rareliest--

_Leon._ Away, dost think so?

_Tela._ Think Sir? I know it. Sir, the _Princess_, is past all hope of life since the Dwarf was put to death.

_Leon._ Let her be so, I have other matters in hand: but this same Taylor angers me, he has made my doublet so wide: and see, the knave has put no points at my arme.

_Tima._ Those will be put to quickly Sir, upon any occasion.

_Leon. Telamon_, have you bid this Dancer come a mornings?

_Tela._ Yes Sir.

_Leon. T[i]mantus_, let me see the glass again: look you how careless you are grown, is this tooth well put in?

_Tima._ Which Sir?

_Leon._ This Sir.

_Tima._ It shall be.

_Telam._ Me thinks that tooth should put him in mind on's years: and _Timantus_, stands as if (seeing the _Duke_, in such a youthfull habit) he were looking in's mouth how old he were.

_Leon._ So, so.

_Tela._ Will you have your Gown sir?

_Leon._ My Gown? why, am I sick? bring me my Sword. [_Exit Tela._

[_Timantus_,] Let a couple of the great horses be brought out for us.

_Tima._ He'll kill himself. Why, will you ride Sir:

_Leon._ Ride? Dost thou think I cannot ride?

_Timan._ O yes Sir, I know it: but as I conceive your journey, you wou'd have it private; and then you were better take a Coach.

_Leon._ These Coaches make me sick: yet 'tis no matter, let it be so.

_Enter Telamon with a sword._

_Tel._ Sir, here's your sword.

_Leon._ O well sed: let me see it, I could me thinks Why _Telamon_, bring me another: what, thinkst thou I will wear a sword in vain?

_Tela._ He has not strength enough to draw it, A yoak of Fleas ty'd to a hair would have drawn it. 'Tis out sir now, the Scabbard is broke.

_Leon._ O put it up again, and on with it; me thinks I am not drest till I feel my sword on. _Telamon_, if any of my counsell aske for me, Say I am gone to take the air.

_Tima._ He has not been drest this twenty years then, If this vain hold but a week, he will learn to play o'th base violl and sing to't: He's poetical alreadie; For I have spide a Sonnet on's making lye by's beds side, I'll be so unmannerly to read it. [_Exit._

_Enter Hidaspes, Cleophila, and Hero, Hidaspes in a Bed._

[_Hida._] He's dead, he's dead, and I am following.

_Cleo._ Ask _Cupid_ mercie Madam.

_Hida._ O my heart.

_Cleo._ Help!

_Hero._ Stir her:

_Hida._ O, O!

_Cleo._ She's going, wretched wom[e]n that we are: Look to her, and I'll pray the while.

_Hero._ Why Madam? [_Shee kneels._

_Cleo. Cupid_, pardon what is past, And forgive our sins at last, Then we will be coy no more, But thy Deity Adore, Troths at fifteen we will plight, And will tread a Dance [each] night. In the fields, or by the Fire, With the youths that have desire. (_How does she yet?_)

_Hero._ O ill:

_Cleo._ Given Ear-rings we will wear, Bracelets of our Lovers hair, Which they on our Arms shall twist, With their Names carv'd on our wrist: All the money that we owe, We in Tokens will bestow: And learn to write, that when 'tis sent, Onely our Loves know what it meant: O then pardon what is past, And forgive our Sins at last. (_What, Mends she?_)

_Hero._ Nothing, you do it not wantonly, you shou'd sing.

[_Cleo._ Why?

_Hero._ Leave, leave, 'tis now too late. Shee is dead: Her last is breathed.]

_Cleo._ What shall we doe.

_Hero._ Go run, And tell the _Duke_; And whilst I'll close her eyes. Thus I shut thy faded light, And put it in eternall night. Where is she can boldly say Though she be as fresh as _May_: She shall not by this Corps be laid, Ere to morrows light doe fade. Let us all now living be, Warn'd by thy strict Chastitie; And marry all fast as we can, Till then we keep a piece of man, Wrongfully from them that owe it Soon may every Maid bestow it. [_Exeunt._

_Enter Bacha and a Maid._

_Bac._ Who is it?

_Maid._ Forsooth there's [a] gallant Coach at the dore, And the brave old man in't, that you said was the _Duke_.

_Bacha. Cupid_, grant he may be taken. _Away_:

_Maid._ He is coming up, and looks the swaggeringst, and has such glorious cloaths.

_Bac._ Let all the house see me sad, and see all handsome.

_Enter Leontius, and Timantus, a Jewell and a Ring._

_Leon._ Nay widow flie not back, we come not now to chide, stand up and bid me welcome.

_Bac._ To a poor widows house that knows no end of her ill fortune: your Highness is most welcome.

_Leon._ Come kiss me then, this is but manners widow: Nere fling your head aside, I have more cause of grief than you: my Daughters dead: but what? 'Tis nothing. Is the rough _French_ horse brought to the dore? They say he is a high goer, I shall soon try his mettle.

_Tim._ He will be Sir, and the gray _Barbary_, they are fiery both.

_Leon._ They are the better: Before the gods I am lightsome, very lightsome: How doest thou like me widow?

_Bach._ As a person in whom all graces are.

_Leon._ Come, come, ye flatter: I'll clap your cheek for that, and you shall not be angry.

Hast no _Musick_: Now could I cut three times with ease, and do a cross point, should shame all your gallants.

_Bacha._ I do believe you, and your self too: Lord what a fine old _Zany_ my Love has made him! 'Is mine, I am sure: Heaven make me thankful for him.

[_Leon._] Tell me how old thou art, my pretty sweet heart?

_Timantus._ Your Grace will not buy her, she may trip Sir?

_Bacha._ My sorrow showes me elder then I am by many years.

_Leon._ Thou art so witty I must kiss agen.

_Tima._ Indeed her Age lyes not in her mouth: nere look it there Sir, she has a better Register, if it be not burnt.

_Leon._ I will kiss thee, I am a fire _Timantus_.

_Tima._ Can you chuse Sir, having such heavenly fire before you?

_Leon._ Widow, guess why I come, I prethee do.

_Bacha._ I cannot Sir, unless you be pleas'd to make a mirth out of my rudeness: and that I hope your pity will not let ye, the subject is so Barren: Bite King, Bite, I'll let you play a while.

_Leon._ Now as I am an honest man, I'll tell thee truely, how many foot did I Jump yesterday _Timantus_?

_Tim._ Fourteen of your own, and some three fingers.

_Bacha._ This fellow lyes as lightly, as if hee were in cut Taffata. Alas good Almanack get thee to Bed, and tell what weather we shall have to morrow.

_Leon._ Widow I am come in short to be a Suiter.

_Bacha._ For whom?

_Leon._ Why by my troth, I come to wooe thee wench: And win thee for my self: Nay, look upon me: I have about me that will do it.

_Bac._ Now Heaven defend me, your Whore [you] shall never: I thank the Gods, I have a little left me to keep me warm, and honest: if your grace take not that, I seek no more.

_Leon._ I am so far from taking any thing, I'll add unto thee.

_Bach._ Such Additions may be for your ease Sir, Not my honestie: I am well in being single, good Sir seek another, I am no meat for money.

_Leon._ Shall I fight for thee? This sword shall cut his throat, that dars lay claim But to a Finger of thee, but to a look, I would See such a fellow.

_Bac._ It would be but a cold sight to you: This is the father of _S. George_ a foot-back, Can such dry mumming talk.

_Tim._ Before the gods, your grace lookes like _Æneas_.

_Bac._ He looks like his old father upon his back, Crying to get Aboord.

_Leon._ How shall I win thy love, I pray thee tell me? I'll marry thee if thou desirest that: That is an honest Course, I am in good earnest, and presently within this hour, [I] am mad for thee: prethee deny me not, For as I live I'll pine thee, but I'll have thee.

_Bacha._ Now he's in the Toyl, I'll hold him fast.

_Tima._ You do not know what 'tis to be a Queen, Go too you Maid, else what the old man falls short of, there's others can eech out, when you please to call on 'em.

_Bacha._ I understand you not, Love I adore thee, Sir, on my knees I give you hearty thanks, for so much Honoring your humble Hand-mayd above her birth: Far more her weak deservings, I dare not trust the Envious tongues of all that must repine at my unworthy rising. Beside, you have many fair ones in your Kingdome Born to such worth: O turn your self about And make a Noble choice.

_Leon._ If I do, let me famish: I will have thee, Or break up house, and boord here.

_Bac._ Sir, you may command an unwilling woman to obey ye: but heaven knows--

_Leon._ No more: these half a dozen kisses, and this Jewell, and every thing I have, and away with me, and clap it up; and have a boy by morning _Timantus_. let one be sent post for my son again: and for _Ismenus_, they are scarce twenty miles on their way yet, by that time we'll be married.

_Tima._ There shall Sir. [_Exeunt._

_Actus Tertii. Scæna Prima._

_Enter Dorialus, Agenor, Nisus._

_Nisus._ Is not this a fine marriage?

_Agenor._ Yes, yes, let it alone.

_Dor._ I, I, the King may marry whom's list, let's talk of other matters.

_Nis._ Is the _Prince_ coming home certainly?

_Dor._ Yes, yes, he was sent post for yesterday, lets make haste we'll see how his new Mother-in-law will entertain him.

_Nis._ Why well I warrant you: did you not mark how humbly she carried her self to us on her marriage day, acknowledging her own unworthiness, and that she would be our servant.

_Dor._ But mark what's done.

_Nis._ Regard not shew.

_Age._ O God! I knew her when I have been off'red her to be brought to my bed for five [pound]: whether it could have been perform'd or no, I know not.

_Nis._ Her Daughters a pretty Lady.

_Dor._ Yes: and having had but mean bringing up, it talks the pretilest and innocentliest, the Queen will be so angry to hear her betray her breeding by her language: but I am perswaded she's well dispos'd.

_Agenor._ I think better than her Mother.

_Nis._ Come, we stay too long. [_Exeunt._

_Enter Leucippus, and Ismenus._

_Isme._ How now man, strook dead with a tale?

_Leu._ No, but with a truth.

_Isme._ Stand [of] your self: can you endure blows, and shrink at words?

_Leu._ Thou knowst I have told thee all.

_Isme._ But that all's nothing to make you thus: your Sisters dead.

_Leu._ That's much, but not the most.

_Isme._ Why, for the other let her marry and hang, 'tis no purpos'd fault of yours: and if your Father will needs have your cast Whore, you shall shew the duty of a child better in being contented, and bidding much good doe his good old heart with her, than in repining thus at it; let her go: what, there are more wenches man, we'll have another.

_Leu._ O thou art vain, thou knowst I doe not love her: What shall I doe? I would my tongue had led me To any other thing, but blasphemy, So I had mist commending of this woman, Whom I must reverence now: she is my Mother, My sin _Ismenus_ has wrought all this ill: And I beseech thee, to be warn'd by me, And doe not lye, if any man should aske thee But _How thou dost_, or _What a clock 'tis now_. Be sure thou doe not lye, make no excuse For him that is most near thee: never let The most officious falsehood scape thy tongue, For they above (that are intirely truth) Will make that seed, which thou hast sown Of lyes, yield miseries a thousand fold Upon thine head, as they have done on mine.

_Enter Timantus._

_Tim._ Sir, your Highness is welcome home, the _Duke_ and _Queen_ will presently come forth to you.

_Leu._ I'll wait on them.

_Tima._ Worthy _Ismenus_, I pray you, have you sped in your wars?

_Isme._ This Rogue mocks me. Well _Timantus_, Pray how have you sped here at [home] at shovelboord?

_Tim._ Faith reasonable. How many Towns have you taken in this Summer?

_Isme._ How many Stags have you been at the death of this grass?

_Tima._ A number: 'Pray how is the Province settled?

_Isme._ Prethee how does the dun Nag?

_Tim._ I think you mock me my Lord.

_Isme._ Mock thee? Yes by my troth doe I: why what wouldst thou have me doe with thee? Art good for any thing else?

_Enter Leontius, Bacha, Dorialus, Agenor, Nisus, Telamon._

_Leu._ My good _Ismenus_, hold me by the wrist: And if thou see'st me fainting, wring me hard, For I shall swoon again else.-- [_Kneels._

_Leon._ Welcome my son; rise, I did send for thee Back from the province, by thy Mothers counsell, Thy good Mother here, who loves thee well: She would not let me venture all my joy Amongst my enemies: I thank thee for her, And none but thee, I took her on thy word.

_Leucip._ Pinch harder.

_Leon._ And she shall bid thee welcome: I have now Some near affairs, but I will drink a Health To thee anon: Come _Telamon_, [Ime] grown Lustier, I thank thee for't, since I marryed; I can stand now alone, why _Telamon_, And never stagger. [_Exit Leontius, Telamon._

_Bac._ Welcome most noble Sir, whose fame is come Hither before you: out alas you scorn me, And teach me what to doe.

_Leu._ No, you are my Mother.

_Bacha._ Far unworthy of that name God knows: But trust me, here before these Lords, I am no more but Nurse unto the _Duke_; Nor will I breed a faction in the State, It is too much for me that I am rais'd Unto his bed, and will remain the servant Of you that did it.

_Leu._ Madam I will serve you As shall become me. O dissembling woman! Whom I must reverence though. Take from thy Quiver, sure-aim'd _Apollo_; one of thy swift darts, Headed with thy consuming golden beams, And let it melt this body into mist, That none may find it.

_Bac._ Shall I beg my Lords This Room in private for the _Prince_ and me?

[_Exeunt all but Leu. and Bach._

_Leu._ What will she say now?

_Bach._ I must still enjoy him: Yet there is still left in me a spark of woman, That wishes he [w]ould move it, but he stands, As if he grew there with his eyes on earth, Sir, you and I when we were last together Kept not this distance as we were afraid Of blasting by our selves.

_Leu._ Madam 'tis true, Heaven pardon it.

_Bach._ Amen Sir. You may think that I have done you wrong in this strange marriage.

_Leu._ 'Tis past now.

_Bach._ But it was no fault of mine: The world had call'd me mad, had I refus'd The King: nor layd I any train to catch him, It was your own Oaths did it.

_Leu._ 'Tis a truth: that takes my sleep away, but Would to Heaven, if it had so been pleas'd, you had Refus'd him, though I had gratifi'd that courtesie With having you my self: But since 'tis thus, I doe beseech you that you will be honest From henceforth; and not abuse his credulous Age, Which you may easily doe. As for my self What I can say, you know alas too well Is ty'd within me, here it will sit like lead, But shall offend no other, it will pluck me Back from my ent'rance into any mirth, As if a servant came, and whisper'd with me Of some friends death, but I will bear my self, To you, with all the due obedience A son owes to a Mother: more than this, Is not in me, but I must leave the rest to the Just gods: who in their blessed time, When they have given me punishment enough, For my rash Sin, will mercifully find As unexpected means to ease my grief As they did now to bring it.

_Bac._ Grown so godly? this must not be. And I will be to you, no other than a natural Mother ought; And for my honesty, so you will swear Never to urge me, I shall keep it safe from any other.

_Leu._ Bless me I should urge you?

_Bacha._ Nay but swear then that I may be at peace, For I doe feel a weakness in my self, That can denie you nothing, if you tempt me, I shall embrace Sin as it were a friend, and run to meet it.

_Leu._ If you knew how far It were from me, you would not urge an Oath. But for your satisfaction, when I tempt you.

_Bac._ Swear not: I cannot move him, this sad talk Of things past help, does not become us well. Shall I send one for my _Musicians_, and we'll dance?

_Leu._ Dance Madam?

_Bac._ Yes, _Alavalta_.

_Leu._ I cannot dance Madam.

_Bac._ Then lets be merry.

_Leu._ I am as my _Fortunes_ bid me. Do not you see me sowr?

_Bac._ Yes. And why think you I smile?

_Leu._ I am so far from any joy my self, I cannot fancie a cause of mirth.

_Bac._ I'll tell you, we are alone:

_Leu._ Alone?

_Bac._ Yes.

_Leu._ 'Tis true: what then?

_Bac._ What then? you make my smiling now Break into laughter: what think you is to be done then?

_Leu._ We shou'd pray to Heaven for mercy.

_Bacha._ Pray? that were a way indeed To pass the time: but I will make you blush, To see a bashfull woman teach a man What we should doe alone: try again If you can find it out.

_Leu._ I dare not think I understand you.

_Bac._ I must teach you then; Come, kiss me.

_Leu._ Kiss you?

_Bac._ Yes, be not asham'd: You did it not your self, I will forgive you.

_Leuc._ Keep you displeas'd gods, the due respect I ought to bear unto this wicked woman, As she is now my Mother, Haste within me, Lest I add sins to sins, till no repentance will cure me.

_Bac._ Leave these melancholly moods, That I may swear thee welcome on thy Lipps A thousand times.

_Leuc._ Pray leave this wicked talk, You doe not know to what my Fathers wrong May urge me.

_Bac._ I'm careless, and doe weigh The world, my life, and all my after hopes Nothing without thy Love, mistake me not: Thy Love, as I have had it, free and open As wedlock is, within it self, what say you?

_Leu._ Nothing.

_Bac._ Pitty me, behold a Duchess Kneels for thy mercie, and I swear to you Though I should lye with you, it is no Lust, For it desires no change, I could with you Content my self; what answer will you give?

_Leuc._ They that can answer must be less amaz'd, Than I am now: you see my tears deliver My meaning to you.

_Bac._ Shall I be contem'd? thou art a beast, worse than a savage beast, To let a Lady kneel, to beg that thing Which a right man would offer.

_Leu._ 'Tis your will Heaven: but let me bear me like My self, how ever she does.

_Bac._ Were you made an _Eunuch_, since you went hence? Yet they have more desire than I can find in you: How fond was I to beg thy love! I'll force thee to my will Dost thou not know that I can make the King Dote as my list? yield quickly, or by Heaven I'll have thee kept in prison for my purpose, Where I will make thee serve my turn, and have thee fed With such meats as best shall fit my ends And not thy health, why dost not speak to me? And when thou dost displease me, and art grown Less able to perform; then I will have thee Kill'd and forgotten: Are you striken dumb?

_Leu._ All you have nam'd but making of me sin With you, you may command, but never that; Say what you will, I'll hear you as becomes me, If you speak, I will not follow your counsell, Neither will I tell the world to your disgrace, But give you the just honor That is due from me to my Father's wife.

_Bac._ Lord how full of wise formality you [are] grown Of late: but you were telling me You could have wisht that I had marry'd you, If you will swear so yet, I'll make away the King.

_Leuc._ You are a strumpet.

_Bacha._ Nay, I care not For all your Railings: They will Batter walls And take in Towns, as soon as trouble me: Tell him, I care not, I shall undoe you only, which is no matter.

_Leu._ I appeal to you still, and for ever, that are And cannot be other, Madam, I see 'tis in your power To work your will on him: And I desire you To lay what trains you will for my wish'd death, But suffer him to find his quiet grave In peace; Alas he never did you wrong, And farther I beseech you pardon me, For the ill word I gave you, for how ever You may deserve, it became not me To call you so, but passion urges me I know not whither: my heart break now, & ease me ever.

_Bacha._ Pray you get you hence With your goodly humor, I am weary of you extreamely:

_Leu._ Trust me, so am I of my self too: Madam, I'll take my leave; gods set all right.

_Bacha._ Amen, Sir, get you gon; Am I deny'd? it does not trouble me That I have mov'd, but that I am refus'd: I have lost my patience: I will make him know Lust is not Love, for Lust will find a mate While there are men, and so will I: and more

_Enter_ Timantus.

Than one, or twenty: yonder is _Timantus_, A fellow void of any worth, to raise himself, And therefore like to catch at any evil That will but pluck him up: him will I make Mine own: _Timantus_.

_Timantus._ Madam?

_Bac._ Thou know'st well Thou wert by chance, a means of this my raising: Brought the Duke to me, and though 'twere but chance I must reward thee.

_Tim._ I shall bend my service unto your Highness.

_Bacha._ But do it then entirely, and in every thing, And tell me, couldst thou now think that thing Thou wouldst not do for me?

_Timant._ No by my soul Madam.

_Bacha._ Then thou art right. Go to my Lodging, and I'll follow thee. [_Exit_ Timantus. With my instruction I do see already, This Prince that did but now contemn me, dead: Yet will I never speak an evil word Unto his Father of him, till I have won A belief, I love him, but I'll make His virtues his undoing, and my praises Shall be so many swords against his breast, Which once perform'd, I'll make _Urania_ My Daughter, the Kings heir, and plant my issue In this large Throne: nor shall it be withstood, They that begin in Lust, must end in Blood. [_Exit._

_Enter_ Dorialus, Agenor, Nisus.

_Doria._ We live to know a fine time, Gentl.

_Nis._ And a fine Duke, that through his doting age Suffers him to be a child again Under his Wives tuition.

_Agen._ All the Land holds in that tenor too: in womans service? sure we shall learn to spinn.

_Dor._ No, that's too honest: we shall have other Liberal Sciences taught us too soon; Lying, and flattering, those are the studies now: And Murther shortly I know, will be humanity, Gent. If we live here we must be knaves, believe it.

_Nisus._ I cannot tell my Lord _Dorialus_, though my Own nature hate it, if all determine to be knaves, I'll try what I can do upon my self: that's certain, I will not have my throat cut for my goodness, The virtue will not quit the pain.

_Age._ But pray you tell me, Why is the _Prince_, now ripe and full experient, Not made a dore in the State?

_Nis._ Because he is honest.

_Enter Timantus._

_Tim._ Goodness attend your Honors.

_Dor._ You must not be amongst us then.

_Tim._ The _Dutchess_, whose humble servant I am proud to be, would speak with you.

_Age._ Sir, we are pleas'd to wait: when is it?

_Tim._ An hour hence my good Lords, and so I leave my service.

_Dor._ This is one of her Ferrets that she bolts business out withall: this fellow, if he were well ript, has all the linings of a knave within him: how slye he looks!

_Nis._ Have we nothing about our cloaths that he may catch at?

_Agenor._ O my conscience, there's no treason in my dublet, if there be, my elbows will discover it, they are out.

_Dor._ Faith, and all the harm that I can find in mine is, that they are not pay'd for; let him make what he can of that, so he discharge that. Come, let's go. [_Exeunt._

_Enter Bach, Leontius, Tella._

_Bac._ And you shall find Sir what [a] blessing heaven gave you in such a son.

_Le._ Pray _gods_, I may, Let's walk & change our subject.

_Bac._ O Sir, can any thing come sweeter to you, or strike a deeper joy into your heart than your son's virtue?

_Leon._ I allow his virtues: but 'tis not handsome thus to feed my self with such moderate praises of mine own.

_Bac._ The subject of our comendations is it self grown so infinite in goodness, that all the glory we can lay upon it, though we should open volumes of his praises, is a mere modesty in his expression, and shews him lame still, like an ill wrought peece wanting proportion.

_Leo._ Yet still he is a man, and subject still to more inordinate vices, than our love can give him blessing.

_Bac._ Else he were a _god_: yet so near as he is, he comes to heaven, that we may see so far as flesh can point us things only worthy them, and only these in all his actions.

_Leon._ This is too much my Queen.

_Bach._ Had the _gods_ lov'd me; that my unworthy womb had bred this brave man.

_Leon._ Still you run wrong.

_Bach._ I would have liv'd upon the comfort of him; fed on his growing hopes.

_Leo._ This touches me.

_Bach._ I know no friends, nor Being, but his virtues.

_Le._ You have laid out words enough upon a subject.

_Bach._ But words cannot express him Sir: why what a shape Heaven has conceiv'd him in, oh Nature made him up!

_Leon._ I wonder _Dutchess_.

_Bach._ So you must: for less than admiration loses this godlike man.

_Leon._ Have you done with him?

_Bach._ Done with? O good gods what frailties thus pass by us without reverence!

_Leon._ I see no such perfection.

_Bac._ O dear Sir: you are a father, and those joys To you, speak in your heart, not in your tongue.

_Leo._ This leaves a tast behind it worse than physick.

_Bac[h]._ Then for all his wisdome, valour, Good fortune, and all those friends of honor, They are in him as free and natural, as passions In a Woman.

_Leon._ You make me blush at all these years To see how blindly you have flung your praises Upon a Boy, a very child, and worthless, Whilst I live, of these Honors.

_Bac._ I would not have my love Sir, make my tongue Shew me so much a woman: as to praise Or dispraise, where my will is, without reason, Or generall allowance of the people.

_Leon._ Allowance of the people, what allow they?

_Bac._ All, I have sed for truth, and they must do it, And doat upon him: love him, and admire him.

_Leon._ How's that?

_Bac._ For in this youth and noble forwardness All things are bound together that are kingly, A fitness to bear rule:

_Leon._ No more.

_Bac._ And Sovereignty not made to know command.

_Leon._ I have sed, no more.

_Bac._ I have done Sir, though unwilling, and pardon me.

_Leon._ I do, not a word more.

_Bac[h]._ I have gi'n thee poyson Of more infection than the Dragons tooth, Or the gross Air o'er heated.

_Leon. Timantus_ when saw you the Prince?

_Tim._ I left him now Sir.

_Leon._ Tell me truely, out of your free opinion without courting. How you like him.

_Tim._ How I like him?

_Leon._ Yes: for you in conversation may see more Than a Father.

_Bac._ It works.

_Timantus._ Your Grace has chosen out an ill observer.

_Leon._ Yes, I mean of his ill: you talk rightly.

_Tim._ But you take me wrong: All I know by him I dare deliver boldly: He is the storehouse And head of virtue; your great self excepted, That feeds the Kingdome.

_Leon._ These are flatteries: speak me his vices, there you do a service worth a Fathers thanks.

_Tim._ Sir, I cannot. If there be any, sure they are the times which I could wish less dangerous. But pardon me, I am too bold.

_Leon._ [You] are not, forward and open what these dangers are.

_Timan._ Nay, good Sir.

_Leon._ Nay, fall not off again, I will have all.

_Timan._ Alas Sir, what am I, you should believe My eyes or ears, so subtle to observe Faults in a State: all my main business Is service to your Grace, and necessaries For my poor life.

_Leon._ Do not displease me Sirrah, But that you know tell me, and presently.

_Timan._ Since your Grace will have it I'll speak it freely: Alwayes my obedience And love preserv'd unto the Prince.

_Leon._ Prethee to the matter.

_Tim._ For Sir, if you consider How like a Sun in all his great employments, How full of heat.

_Leon._ Make me understand what I desire.

_Tim._ And then at his return.

_Leon._ Do not anger me.

_Tim._ Then thus Sir: All mislike ye, As they would do the gods, if they did dwell with 'em.

_Leon._ What?

_Tim._ Talke and prate, as their ignorant rages Leads 'em without Alleageance or Religion. For Heavens sake have a care of your own person: I cannot tell, their wickedness may lead Farther than I dare think yet.

_Leo._ O base people.

_Tim._ Yet the Prince, for whom this is pretended may Persuade 'em, and no doubt will: virtue is ever watchfull, But be you still secur'd and comforted.

_Leon._ Heaven how have I offended, that this rod So heavy and unnaturall, should fall upon me When I am old and helpless.

_Tim._ Brave Gentl. that such a madding love should follow thee, to rob thee of a Father: All the Court is full of dangerous whispers.

_Leon._ I perceive it, and 'spight of all their strengths Will make my safety: I'll cut him shorter. I'll cut him shorter first, then let him rule.

_Bach._ What a foul Age is this, when Virtue is made a sword to smite the virtuous! Alas, alas:

_Leon._ I'll teach him to fly lower.

_Tim._ By no means Sir, rather, make more your love, And hold your favor to him: for 'tis now Impossible to yoke him, if his thoughts, As I must ne'er believe, run with their rages, He never was so innocent, but what reason His Grace has to withdraw his love from me, And other good men that are near your person, I cannot yet find out: I know my duty Has ever been attending.

_Leon._ 'Tis too plain: He means to play the villain, I'll prevent him, not a word more of this, be private.

[_Exit Leontius._

_Tim._ Madam 'tis done.

_Bac._ He cannot escape me. Have you spoken with the noble men?

_Tim._ Yes Madam they are here: I wait a farther service.

_Bac._ Till [you see] the Prince, you need no more instructions.

_Tim._ No, I have it. [_Exit Timantus._

_Enter Dorialus, Nisus, Agenor._

_Bac._ That fool that willingly provoks a woman, Has made himself another evill Angell, And a new Hell, to which all other torments Are but mere pastime: Now my noble Lords, You must excuse me, that unmannerly We have broke your private business.

_Agen._ Your good Grace may command us, and that.

_Bac._ Faith my Lord _Agenor_: 'Tis so good a cause I am confident, you cannot loose by it.

_Dorialus._ Which way does she fish now? The devill is but a fool to a right woman.

_Nisus._ Madam, we must needs win in doing service to such a gracious Lady.

_Bac._ I thank you, and will let you know the business: So I may have your helps, never be doubtfull, For 'tis so just a cause, and will to you Upon the knowledge seem so honorable, That I assure my self your willing hearts Will strait be for me in it.

_Age._ If she should prove good now, what wer't like?

_Dorial._ Thunder in _Januarie_, or a good woman, That's stranger than all _Affrick_.

_Bac._ It shall not need your wonder, this it is: The Duke you know is old, and rather subject To ease and prayers now, than all those troubles, Cares, and continuall watchings, that attend A Kingdomes safety, therefore to prevent The fall of such a flourishing Estate As this has [ever] been, and to put off The murmure of the people that encrease Against my government, which the gods knows I onely feel the trouble of: I present The Prince unto your loves, a Gent. In whom all Excellencies are knit together, All peeces of a true man, let your prayers Win from the Duke half his Vexation, That he may undertake it, whose discretion I must confess, though it be from the Father, Yet now is stronger, and more apt to govern. 'Tis not my own desire, but all the Lands, I know the weakeness of it.

_Nisus._ Madam, this noble care and love has won us For ever to your lives, we'll to the King, And since your Grace has put it in our mouths, We'll win him with the cunning'st words we can.

_Dorial._ I was never cousen'd in a woman before. For commonly they are like Apples: If once they bruise They will grow rotten thorow, and serve for nothing but to asswage swellings.

_Bac._ Good Lords delay no time, since 'tis your good Pleasures to think my counsell good, and by no means Let the Prince know it, whose affections Will stir mainly against it: besides his Father May hold him dangerous, if it be not carried So that his forward will appear not in it, Go, and be happy.

_Dorial._ Well, I would not be Chronicl'd as thou Wilt be for a good woman, for all the world.

_Nisus._ Madam, we kiss your hand, and so inspire. Nothing but happiness can crown our prayers. [_Exeunt._

_Actus Quart[us]. Scæna Prima._

_Enter Leucippus, Ismenus._

_Leu._ And thus she has us'd me, is't not a good mother?

_Ismenus._ Why kill'd you her not?

_Leu._ The gods forbid it.

_Ismenus._ S'light, if all the women i'th' world were barren, shee had dy'd.

_Leuc._ But 'tis not reason directs thee thus.

_Ismen._ Then have I none at all, for all I have in me Directs me: Your Father's in a pretty rage.

_Leucippus._ Why?

_Ismenus._ Nay, 'tis well, if he know himself, but some of the Nobility have deliver'd a petition to him: what's in't, I know not, but it has put him to his trumps: he has taken a months time to answer it, and chafes like himself.

_Enter Leontius, Bacha, and Tellamon._

_Leu._ He's here _Ismenus_.

_Leon._ Set me down _Tellamon_. _Leucippus._

_Leu._ Sir.

_Bach._ Nay good Sir, be at peace, I dare swear he kn[ew] not of it.

_Leon._ You are foolish: peace.

_Bach._ All will go ill, deny it boldly Sir, trust me he cannot prove it by you.

_Leu._ What?

_Bach._ You'll make all worse too with your facing it.

_Leuc._ What is the matter?

_Leon._ Know'st thou that petition? Look on it well: wouldst thou be joyn'd with me (Unnaturall child to be weary of me) E'r Fate esteem me fit for other worlds.

_Bac._ May be he knows not of it.

_Leu._ Oh strange carriages! Sir, as I have hope that there is any thing To reward doing well, my usages Which have been (but 'tis no matter what) Have put me so far from the thought of Greatness, That I should welcome it like a disease That grew upon me, and I could not cure. They are my enemies that gave you this, And yet they call me friend, and are themselves I fear abus'd. I am weary of my life, For Gods sake take it from me: it creates More mischief in the State than it is worth, The usage I have had, I know would make Wisdom her self run frantick through the streets, And Patience quarrel with her shadow. Sir, this sword--

_Bac._ Alas! help for the love of Heaven, Make way through me first, for he is your Father.

_Leon._ What, would he kill me?

_Bac._ No Sir, no.

_Leon._ Thou always [mak'st] the best on't, but I fear--

_Leu._ Why do you use me thus? who is't can think That I would kill my Father, that can yet Forbear to kill you? Here Sir, is my sword; I dare not touch it, lest she say again I would have kill'd you: let me not have mercy When I most need it, if I would not change Place with my meanest servant. Let these faults Be mended Madam: if you saw how ill They did become you, you would part with them.

_Bac._ I told the Duke as much before.

_Leu._ What? what did you tell him?

_Bac._ That it was only an ambition, Nurst in you by your youth, provok'd you thus, Which age would take away.

_Leon._ It was his doing then? come hither Love.

_Bac._ No indeed, Sir.

_Leu._ How am I made, that I can bear all this? If any one had us'd a friend of mine [nere] this, My hand had carried death about it.

_Leon._ Lead me hence _Tellamon_: come my dear _Bacha_, I shall find time for this.

_Ism._ Madam, you know I dare not speak before The King; but you know well, if not, I'll tell [it] you, You are the most wicked'st, and most murderous Strumpet, that ever was call'd Woman.

_Bac._ My Lord, what can I do for him? he shall command me.

_Leon._ I know thou art too kind; away I say.

[_Exit_ Leon. Bac. Tima. Telia.

_Isme._ Sir, I am sure we dream, this cannot be.

_Leu._ Oh that we did, my wickedness has brought All this to pass, else I should bear my self.

_Enter_ Urania.

_Isme._ Look, doe you see who's there? your virtuous Mothers issue: kill her, yet take some little pidling revenge.

_Leu._ Away, the whole Court calls her virtuous; for they say, she is unlike her Mother, and if so, she can have no vice.

_Ism._ I'll trust none of 'em that come of such a breed.

_Leu._ But I have found A kind of love in her to me: alas, Think of her death! I dare be sworn for her, She is as free from any hate to me As her bad Mother's full. She was brought up I'th' Countrey, as her tongue will let you know

_Enter_ Urania.

If you but talk with her, with a poor Uncle, Such as her Mother had.

_Ism._ She's come again.

_Ura._ I would fene speak to the good Marquess my brother, if I but thought he could abaid me.

_Leu._ Sister, how do you?

_Ura._ Very well I thank you.

_Ism._ How does your good Mother?

_Leu._ Fie, fie, _Ismenus_ for shame, mock such an innocent soul as this.

_Ura._ Feth a she be no good, [G]od may her so.

_Leu._ I know you wish it with your heart dear Sister, but she is good I hope.

_Ism._ Are you so simple, to make so much of this? Do you not know, That all her wicked Mother labours for, is but to raise Her to your right, and leave her this Dukedom?

_Ura._ I, but ne'r Sir be afred; For though she take th' ungain'st weas she can, I'll ne'er ha't fro' you.

_Leu._ I should hate my self _Ismenus_; If I should think of her simplicity, Ought but extreamly well.

_Ism._ Nay, as you will.

_Ura._ And though she be my Mother, If she take any caurse to do you wrong, If I can see't, youst quickly hear on't Sir: And so I'll take my leave.

_Leu._ Farewel good Sister, I thank you. [_Exit_ Urania.

_Ism._ You believe all this.

_Leu._ Yes.

_Enter_ Timantus.

_Ism._ A good faith doth well, but methinks It were no hard matter now, for her Mother to send her: Yonder's one you may trust if you will too.

_Leu._ So I will, if he can shew me as apparent signs Of truth as she did; Does he weep _Ismenus_?

_Ism._ Yes, I think so: some good's happen'd I warrant: Do you hear, you? What honest man has scap'd misery, that [you are] crying thus?

_Tim._ Noble _Ismenus_, where's the Prince?

_Ism._ Why there! hast wept thine eyes out?

_Tim._ Sir, I beseech you hear me.

_Leu._ Well, speak on.

_Ism._ Why, will you hear him?

_Leu._ Yes _Ismenus_, why?

_Ism._ I would hear blasphemy as willingly.

_Leu._ You are [to] blame.

_Tim._ No Sir: he is not to blame: If I were as I was.

_Ism._ Nor as thou art, yfaith awhit [to] blame.

_Leu._ What's your business?

_Tim._ Faith Sir, I am ashamed to speak before you, My conscience tells me I have injur'd you, And by the earnest instigation Of others, have not done you to the King Always the best and friendliest offices; Which pardon me, or I will never speak.

_Ism._ Never pardon him and silence a knave.

_Leu._ I pardon thee.

_Tim._ Your Mother sure is naught.

_Leu._ Why shouldst thou think so?

_Tim._ Oh noble, Sir, your honest eyes perceive not The dangers you are led to; shame upon her, And what fell miseries the gods can think on Shower down upon her wicked head, she has plotted I know too well your death: would my poor life Or thousand[s] such as mine is, might be offer'd Like sacrifices up for your preserving, What free oblations would she have to glut her, But she is merciless, and bent to ruin; If heaven and good men step not to your rescue, And timely, very timely: Oh this Dukedom! I weep, I weep for the poor Orphans i'th' Countrey Left with but Friends or Parents.

_Leu._ Now _Ismenus_, what think you of this fellow? This was a lying knave, a flatterer, Does not this Love still shew him so.

_Ism._ This Love? this Halter: if he prove not yet The cunning'st rankest rogue that ever Canted, I'll never see man again: I know him to bring, And can interpret every new face he makes; Look how he wrings like a good stool for a tear: Take heed, Children and Fools First feel the smart, Then weep.

_Leu._ Away, away, such an unkind distrust, Is worse than a dissembling, if it be one, And sooner leads to mischief, I believe it, And him an honest man: he could not carry Under an evil cause, so true a sorrow.

_Ism._ Take heed, this is your Mothers scorpion, That carries stings even in his tears, Whose soul is a rank poison through: Touch Not at him, if you do, you are gone, if you had twenty Lives: I knew him for a Roguish boy, when He would poison Dogs, and keep tame Toads, He lay with his Mother, and infected her, and now She begs i'th' Hospital, with a patch of Velvet, Where her Nose stood: like the Queen of Spades. And all her teeth in her purse, the Devil and this Fellow are so near, 'Tis not yet known which is the eviler Angel.

_Leu._ Nay, then I see 'tis spite: Come hither friend. Hast thou not heard the cause yet that incens'd my Mother to my death, for I protest I feel none in my self?

_Tim._ Her Will Sir, and Ambition, as I think, Are the provokers of it, as in Women, Those two are ever powerful to destruction, Beside a hate of your still growing virtues, She being only wicked.

_Leu._ Heavens defend me as I am innocent, And ever have been from all immoderate thoughts and

## Actions, that carry such rewards along w[i]th 'em.

_Tim._ Sir, all I know, my duty must reveal, My Countrey and my Love command it from me, For whom I'll lay my life down: this night coming, A Counsel is appointed by the Duke, To sit about your apprehension: If you dare trust my faith: which by all good things Shall ever watch about you: goe along, And to a place I'll guide you: where no word Shall scape without your hearing, nor no plot Without discovering to you, which once known, you have your answers and prevention.

_Ism._ You are not so mad to goe; shift off this fellow, you shall be rul'd once by a wise man: Ratsbane get you gone, or--

_Leu._ Peace, peace for shame, thy love is too suspitious, 'tis a way offer'd to preserve my life, and I will take it: be my Guide _Timantus_ and do not mind this angry man, thou know'st him: I may live to requite thee.

_Tim._ Sir, this service is done for virtues sake, not for reward, however he may hold me.

_Ism._ The great pox on you: but thou hast that curse so much, 'twill grow a blessing in thee shortly. Sir, for wisdoms sake court not your death, I am your friend and subject, and I shall lose in both: if I lov'd you not, I would laugh at you, and see you run your neck into the noose, and cry a Woodcock.

_Leu._ So much of man, and so much fearful; fie, prethee have peace within thee: I shall live yet many a golden day to hold thee here dearest and nearest to me: Go on _Timantus_, I charge you by your love no more, no more. [_Exeunt_ Leu. Tim.

_Ism._ Goe, and let your own rod whip you: I pity you. And dog, if he miscarry thou shalt pay for't, I'll study for thy punishment, and it shall last Longer and sharper than a tedious Winter, Till thou blasphem'st, and then thou diest and damn'st. [_Exit._

_Enter_ Leontius _and_ Tellamon.

_Leon._ I wonder the Dutchess comes not.

_Tel._ She has heard, Sir, your Will to speak with her: But there is something leaden at her heart; (Pray God it be not mortal) that even keeps her From conversation with her self.

_Enter the Dutchess._

_B._ Oh whither will you my cross affections pull me? Fortune, Fate, and you whose powers direct our actions, And dwell within us: you that are Angels Guiding to virtue, wherefore have you given So strong a hand to evil? wherefore suffer'd A Temple of your own, you Deities Where your fair selves dwelt only, and your goodness Thus to be soyl'd with sin?

_Leon._ Heaven bless us all. From whence comes this distemper? speak my fair one.

_Bac._ And have you none, Love and Obedience, You[r] ever faithful Servants to imploy In this strange story of impiety, But me a Mother; Must I be your strumpet? To lay black Treason upon, and in him, In whom all sweetness was: in whom my love Was [proud] to have a Being, in whom Justice, And all the gods for our imaginations Can work into a man, were more than virtues, Ambition down to hell, where thou wert foster'd, Thou hast poison'd the best soul, the purest, whitest, And meerest innocent'st it self that ever Mens greedy hopes gave life to.

_Leon._ This is still stranger: lay this treason Open to my correction.

_Bac._ Oh what a combat duty and affection Breeds in my blood!

_Leon._ If thou conceal'st him, may, Beside my death, the curses of the Countrey, Troubles of conscience, and a wretched end, Bring thee unto a poor forgotten grave.

_Bach._ My Being: for another tongue to tell it, Cease, a Mother! some good man that dares Speak for his King and Countrey: I am full Of too much womans pity: yet oh Heaven, Since it concerns the safety of my Sovereign, Let it not be a cruelty in me, Nor draw a Mothers name in question, Amongst unborn people, to give up that man To Law and Justice, that unrighteously Has sought his Fathers death: be deaf: be deaf Sir, Your Son is the offender: Now have you all, Would I might never speak again.

_Leon._ My Son! Heaven help me. No more! I thought it, and since His life is grown so dangerous: Let them that Gave him, take him: he shall dye, And with him all my fears.

_Bac._ Oh use your mercy: you have a brave subject To bestow it on. I'll forgive him, Sir; and for his Wrong to me, I'll be before ye.

_Leon._ Durst his villany extend to thee?

_Bac._ Nothing but heats of youth, Sir.

_Leon._ Upon my life he sought my bed.

_Bacha._ I must confess he loved me Somewhat beyond a Son: and still pursu'd it With such a Lust, I will not say _Ambition_: That clean forgetting all obedience, And only following his first heat unto me, He hotly sought your death, and me in Marriage.

_Leon._ Oh Villain!

_Bac._ But I forget all: and am half asham'd To press a man so far.

_Enter_ Timantus.

_Tim._ Where is the Duke? for Gods sake bring me to him:

_Leon._ Here I am: each corner of the Dukedom Sends new affrights forth: what wouldst thou? speak.

_Tim._ I cannot Sir, my fear ties up my tongue:

_Leon._ Why, what's the matter? Take thy courage To thee, and boldly speak, where are the Guard? In the gods name, out with it:

_Tim._ Treason, treason.

_Leon._ In whom?

_Bacha._ Double the Guard.

_Tim._ There is a fellow, Sir.

_Leon._ Leave shaking man.

_Timan._ 'Tis not for fear, but wonder.

_Leon._ Well.

_Timan._ There is a fellow, Sir, close i'th' Lobby: You o'the Guard, look to the door there.

_Leon._ But let me know the business.

_Tima._ Oh that the hearts of men should be so hard'ned Against so good a Duke, for Gods sake, Sir, Seek means to save your self; This wretched slave Has his sword in his hand, I know his heart: Oh it hath almost kill'd me with the thought of it.

_Leon._ Where is he?

_Enter the Guard, and bring him in._

_Timan._ I'th' Lobby Sir, close in a corner: Look to your selves for Heavens sake, Me thinks he is here already. Fellows of the Guard be valiant.

_Leon._ Goe Sirs, and apprehend him; Treason shall Never dare me in mine own Gates.

_Tim._ 'Tis done. [_There they bring the Prince in._

_Bacha._ And thou shalt find it to thy best content.

_Leon._ Are these the comforts of my age? They're happy that end their daies contented With a little, and live aloof from dangers, to a King Every content doth a new peril bring. Oh let me live no longer, shame of Nature, Bastard to Honor: Traytor, Murderer, Devil in a humane shape. Away with him, He shall not breathe his hot [inf]ection here.

_Leu._ Sir, hear me.

_Leon._ Am I or he your Duke? away with him To a close prison: your Highness now shall know, Such branches must be cropt before they grow.

_Leu._ Whatever fortune comes, I bid it welcome, My innocency is my Armor: gods preserve you. [_Exit._

_Bacha._ Fare thee well, I shall never see so brave a Gent. Would I could weep out his offences.

_Tim._ Or I could weep out mine eyes.

_Leon._ Come Gentlemen, we'll determine presently About his death: we cannot be too forward in our Safety: I am very sick, lead me unto my bed. [_Exeunt._

_Enter Citizen and his Boy._

_Cit._ Sirrah, goe fetch my Fox from the Cutlers: There's money for the scowring: Tell him I stop a groat since the last great Muster: he had in stone Pitch for the bruise: he took with the recoyling of his Gun.

_Boy._ Yes Sir.

_Cit._ And do you hear? when you come, Take down my Buckler, and sweep the Cobwebs off: and grind the pick o[n']t, and fetch a Nail or two: and tack on bracers: your Mistriss made a pot-lid ont't, I thank her, at her Ma[yd]s Wedding, and burnt off the Handle.

_Boy._ I will Sir. [_Exit._

_Cit._ Who's within here, hoe Neighbor, not stirring yet?

_2 Cit._ Oh, good morrow, good morrow: what news, what news?

_1 Cit._ It holds, he dies this morning.

_2 Cit._ Then happy man be his fortune, I am resolv'd.

_1 Cit._ And so am I, and forty more good fellows, That will not give their heads for the washing, I take it.

_2 Cit._ 'Sfoot man, who would not hang in such good company, and such a cause? A Fire, a Wife and Children; 'Tis such a jest that men should look behind 'em to the world: and let their honors, their honors neighbor, slip.

_1 Cit._ I'll give thee a pint of _Bastard_ and a Roll for that bare word.

_2 Cit._ They say, that we Tailors, are things that lay one another, and our Geese hatch us: I'll make some of 'em feel they are Geese o'th' game then. I'fack, take down my Bill, 'tis ten to one I use it. Take a good heart man, all the low ward is ours, with a wet finger. An[d] lay my cut-fing'red Gantlet ready for me, That, that I us'd to work in, when the Gentl. were Up against us, and beaten out of Town, and almost out o' Debt too: for a plague on 'em they never paid well since: And take heed sirrah, your Mistriss hears not of this Business, she's near her time: yet if she do, I care not, she may long for Rebellion, For she has a devilish spirit.

_1 Cit._ Come, let's call up the new Iremonger, he's as tough as steel, and has a fine wit in these resurrections; Are you stirring neighbor?

_3. Within._ Oh, Good morrow neighbors, I'll come to you presently.

_2._ Goe to, this is his Mothers doing; she's a _Polecat_.

_1._ As any is in the world.

_2._ Then say, I have hit it, and a vengeance on her, let her be what she will.

_1. Amen_ say I, she has brought things to a fine pass with her wisdom: do you mark it?

_2._ One thing I am sure she has, the good old Duke, she gives him pap again they say, and dandles him, and hangs a corral and bells about his neck, and makes him believe his teeth will come agen; which if they did, and I he, I would worry her as never Curr was worried: I would neighbor, till my teeth met I know where, but that's counsel.

_Enter [third] Citizen._

_3._ Good morrow neighbors: hear you the sad news?

_1._ Yes, would we knew as well how to prevent it.

_3._ I cannot tell, methinks 'twere no great matter, if men were men: but--

_2._ You do not twit me with my calling neighbor?

_3._ No surely: for I know your spirit to be tall; pray be not vext.

_2._ Pray forward with your counsel: I am what I am, and they that prove me shall find me to their cost: do you mark me neighbor, to their cost I say.

_1._ Nay, look how soon you are angry!

_2._ They shall neighbors: yes, I say they shall.

_3._ I do believe they shall.

_1._ I know they shall.

_2._ Whether you do or no I care not two pence, I am no beast, I know mine own strength neighbors; God bless the King, your companies is fair.

_1._ Nay neighbor, now ye erre, [I] tell you so, and ye [were] twenty Neighbors.

_3._ You had best goe peach, doe, peach.

_2._ Peach; I scorn the motion.

_3._ Doe, and see what follows: I'll spend an hundred pound, and be two I care not: but I'll undoe thee.

_2._ Peach, Oh disgrace! Peach in thy face, and doe the worst thou canst: I am a true-man, and a free-man: peach!

_1._ Nay, look, you will spoil all.

_2._ Peach!

_1._ Whilst you two brawl together, the Prince will lose his life.

_3._ Come, give me your hand, I love you well, are you for the

## action?

_2._ Yes: but Peach provokes me, 'tis a cold fruit, I feel it cold in my stomach still.

_3._ No more, I'll give you Cake to digest it.

_Enter the Fourth._

_4._ Shut up my shop, and be ready at a call boys, and one of you run over my old tuck with a few ashes, 'tis grown odious with tosting Cheese: and burn a little Juniper in my Murrin, the Maid made it her Chamber-pot: an hour hence I'll come again; and as you hear from me, send me a clean shirt.

_3._ The Chandler by th[e] Wharf, and it be thy Will.

_2._ Gossip, good morrow.

_4._ Oh good morrow Gossip: good morrow all, I see ye of one mind you cleave so close together: come 'tis time, I have prepared [a] hundred if they stand.

_1._ 'Tis well done: shall we sever, and about it?

_3._ First, let's to the Tavern, and a pint a piece will make us Dragons.

_2._ I will have no mercy, come what will of it.

_4._ If my tuck hold, I'll spit the Guard like Larks with sage between 'em.

_2._ I have a foolish Bill to reckon with 'em, will make some of their hearts ake, and I'll lay it on: now shall I fight, 'twill do you good to see me.

_3._ Come, I'll do something for the Town to talk of when I am rotten: pray God there be enough to kill, that's all. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Dorialus, Nisus, Agenor.

_Age._ How black the day begins!

_Dor._ Can you blame it, and look upon such a deed as shall be done this morning?

_Nis._ Does the Prince suffer to day?

_Dor._ Within this hour they say.

_Agen._ Well, they that are most wicked are most safe: 'twill be a strange justice, and a lamentable, gods keep us from the too soon feeling of it.

_Doria._ I care not if my throat were next: for to live still, and live here, were but to grow [f]at for the Shambles.

_Nis._ Yet we must do it, and thank 'em too, that our lives may be accepted.

_Age._ Faith I'll go starve [my] self, or grow diseas'd to shame the hangman; for I am sure he shall be my Herald, and quarter me.

_Dor._ I, a plague on him, he's too excellent at Arms.

_Nisus._ Will you go see this sad sight, my Lord _Agenor_?

_Age._ I'll make a mourner.

_Dor._ If I could do him any good, I would goe, The bare sight else will but afflict my spirit, My prayers shall be as near him as your eyes: As you find him setled, remember my love and service to his Grace.

_Nis._ We will weep for you, Sir: farewel. [_Exeunt._

_Dor._ Farewell to all our happiness, a long farewel. Thou angry power, whether of Heaven or Hell, Thou laist this sharp correction on our Kingdom For our offences, infinite and mighty! Oh hear me, and at length be pleas'd, be pleas'd With pity to draw back thy vengeance, Too heavy for our weakness; and accept, (Since it is your discretion, heavenly Wisdoms, To have it so) this sacrifice for all, That now is flying to your happiness, Only for you most fit: let all our sins suffer in him.

[_A shout within._

Gods, what's the matter? I hope 'tis joy; How now my Lords?

_Enter_ Agenor _and_ Nisus.

_Nis._ I'll tell you with that little breath I have; More joy than you dare think, The Prince is safe from danger.

_Dor._ How!

_Age._ 'Tis true, and thus it was; his hour was come To lose his life, he ready for the stroke, Nobly, and full of Saint-like patience, Went with his Guard: which when the people saw, Compassion first went out, mingled with tears, That bred desires, and whispers to each other, To do some worthy kindness for the Prince, And e'r they understood well how to do, Fury stept in, and taught them what to do, Thrusting on every hand to rescue him, As a white innocent: then flew the roar Through all the streets, of _Save him, save him, save him_: And as they cry'd, they did; for catching up Such sudden weapons as their madness shew them In short, they beat the Guard, and took him from 'em, And now march with him like a royal Army.

_Dor._ Heaven, heaven I thank thee, What a slave was I to have my hand so far from This brave rescue, 't 'ad been a thing to brag on When I was old. Shall we run for a wager to the Next Temple, and give thanks?

_Nis._ As fast as wishes.

_Enter_ Leucippus _and_ Ismenus: _the people within stops_.

_Leu._ Good friends goe home again, there's not a man shall goe with me.

_Isme._ Will you not take revenge? I'll call them on.

_Leuc._ All that love me, depart: I thank you, and will serve you for your loves: But I will thank you more to suffer me To govern 'em: once more, I do beg ye, For my sake to your houses.

_All within._ Gods preserve you.

_Ism._ And what house will you goe to?

_Leu. Ismenus_, I will take the wariest courses that I can think of to defend my self, but not offend.

_Isme._ You may kill your Mother, and never offend your Father, an honest man.

_Leu._ Thou know'st I can scape now, that's all I look for: I'll leave.

_Isme. Timantus_, a pox take him, would I had him here, I would kill him at his own weapon single, sithes we have built enough on him: plague on't, I'm out of all patience: discharge such an Army as this, that would have followed you without paying, Oh gods!

_Leu._ To what end should I keep 'em? I am free.

_Isme._ Yes, free o'th' Traitors, for you are proclaim'd one.

_Leu._ Should I therefore make my self one?

_Isme._ This is one of your moral Philosophy, is it? Heaven bless me from subtilties to undoe my self with: But I know, if reason her self were here, She would not part with her own safety.

_Leu._ Well, pardon _Ismenus_, for I know My courses are most just; nor will I stain 'em With one bad action; for thy self thou know'st, That though I may command thee, I shall be A ready servant to thee if thou needst: and so I'll take my leave.

_Isme._ Of whom?

_Leu._ Of thee.

_Isme._ Heart, you shall take no leave of me.

_Leu._ Shall I not?

_Isme._ No, by the gods shall you not: nay, if you have no more wit but to goe absolutely alone, I'll be in a little.

_Leu._ Nay, prethee good _Ismenus_ part with me.

_Isme._ I wonnot i'faith, never move it any more; for by this good light I wonnot.

_Leu._ This is an ill time to be thus unruly: _Ismenus_. You must leave me.

_Isme._ Yes, if you can beat me away: else the gods refuse me if I will leave you till I see more reason; you sha'nt undoe your self.

_Leu._ But why wilt not leave me?

_Isme._ Why I'll tell you: Because when you are gone, then--life, if I have not forgot my reason--hell take me: you put me out of patience so: Oh! marry when you are gone, then will your Mother (a pox confound her) she never comes in my head, but she spoils my memory too: there are a hundred reasons.

_Leu._ But shew me one.

_Isme._ Shew you; what a stir here is; why I will shew you: Do you think; well, well, I know what I know, I pray come, come. 'Tis in vain: but I am sure. Devils take 'em; what do I meddle with 'em? You know your self. Soul, I think I am: is there any man i'th' world? as if you knew not this already better than I. Pish, pish, I'll give no reason.

_Leu._ But I will tell thee one, why thou shouldst stay: I have not one friend in the Court but thou, On whom I may be bold to trust to send me Any intelligence: and if thou lov'st me Thou wilt do this, thou needst not fear to stay, For there are new-come Proclamations out, Where all are pardon'd but my self.

_Isme._ 'Tis true, and in the same Proclamation, your fine Sister _Urania_, whom you us'd so kindly, is proclaim'd Heir apparent to the Crown.

_Leu._ What though, thou mayst stay at home without danger.

_Isme._ Danger, hang danger, what tell you me of danger?

_Leu._ Why if thou wilt not do't, I think thou dar'st not.

_Isme._ I dare not: if you speak it in earnest, you are a Boy.

_Leu._ Well Sir, if you dare, let me see you do't.

_Isme._ Why so you shall, I will stay.

_Leu._ Why God-a-mercy.

_Isme._ You know I love you but too well.

_Leu._ Now take these few directions: farewel, send to me by the wariest ways thou canst: I have a soul tells me we shall meet often. The gods protect thee.

_Isme._ Pox o' my self for an ass, I'm crying now, God be with you, if I never see you again: why then pray get you gone, for grief and anger wonnot let me know what I say, I'll to the Court as fast as I can, and see the new Heir apparant. [_Exeunt._

_Actus Quintus. Scæna Prima._

_Enter_ Urania _and her Woman_.

_Uran._ What hast thou found him?

_Wo._ Madam, he is coming in.

_Uran._ Gods bless my brother, wheresoe'er he is: And I beseech you keep me fro the bed Of any naughty Tyrant, whom my Mother Would ha me have to wrong him.

_Enter_ Ismenus.

_Isme._ What would her new Grace have with me?

_Ura._ Leave us a while. My Lord _Ismenus_, [_Exit_[Wom.] I pray for the love of Heaven and God, That you would tell me one thing, which I know You can do weell.

_Isme._ Where's her fain Grace?

_Ura._ You know me well inough, but that you mock, I am she my sen.

_Isme._ God bless him that shall be thy husband, if thou wear'st [breeches] thus soon, thou'lt be as impudent as thy Mother.

_Ura._ But will you tell me this one thing?

_Ism._ What is't? if it be no great matter whether I do or no, perhaps I will.

_Ura._ Yes faith, 'tis matter.

_Ism._ And what is't?

_Ura._ I pray you let me know whaire the Prince my Brother is.

_Ism._ I'faith you shan be hang'd first, is your Mother so foolish to think your good Grace can sift it out of me?

_Ura._ If you have any mercy left i' you to a poor wench, tell me.

_Ism._ Why wouldst [not thou] have thy brains beat out for this, to follow thy Mothers steps so young?

_Ura._ But believe me, she knows none of this.

_Ism._ Believe you? why do you think I never had wits? or that I am run out of them? how should it belong to you to know, if I could tell?

_Ura._ Why I will tell you, and if I speak false Let the devil ha me: yonder's a bad man, Come from a Tyrant to my Mother, and what name They ha' for him, good faith I cannot tell.

_Isme._ An Ambassador.

_Ura._ That's it: but he would carry me away, And have me marry his Master; and I'll day E'r I will ha' him.

_Ism._ But what's this to knowing where the Prince is?

_Ura._ Yes: for you know all my Mother does: Agen the Prince is but to ma me great.

_Ism._ Pray, I know that too well, what ten?

_Ura._ Why I [w]ould goe to the good Marquis my Brother, and put my self into his hands, that so He may preserve himself.

_Ism._ Oh that thou hadst no seed of thy Mother in thee, and couldst mean this now.

_Ura._ Why feth I do, wou'd I might ne'er stir more if I do not.

_Ism._ I shall prove a ridiculous fool, I'll be damn'd else: hang me if I do not half believe thee.

_Ura._ By my troth you may.

_Ism._ By my troth I doe: I know I'm an Ass for't, But I cannot help it.

_Ura._ And won you tell me then?

_Ism._ Yes faith will I, or any thing else i'th' world: for I think thou art as good a creature as ever was born.

_Ura._ But ail goe i' this ladst [reparrell]: But you mun help me to Silver.

_Ism._ Help thee? why the pox take him that will not help thee to any thing i'th' world, I'll help thee to Money, and I'll do't presently too, and yet soul, If you should play the scurvy Harlotry little pocky baggage now and cosin me, what then?

_Ura._ Why, an I do, wou'd I might ne'r see day agen.

_Ism._ Nay, by this light, I do not think thou wilt: I'll presently provide thee Money and a Letter. [_Exit_ Ism.

_Ura._ I, but I'll ne'er deliver it. When I have found my Brother, I will beg To serve him; but he shall never know who I am: For he must hate me then for my bad mother: I'll say I am a Countrey Lad that want a service, And have straid on him by chance, lest he discover me; I know I must not live long, but that taime I ha' to spend, shall be in serving him. And though my Mother seek to take his life away, In ai day my brother shall be taught That I was ever good, though she were naught. [_Exit._

_Enter_ Bacha _and_ Timantus: Bacha _reading_ _a Letter_.

_Bac._ Run away, the Devil be her guide.

_Tim._ Faith she's gone: there's a Letter, I found it in her pocket, would I were with her, she's a handsome Lady, a plague upon my bashfulness, I had bobb'd her long ago else.

_Bach._ What a base whore is this, that after all My ways for her advancement, should so poorly Make virtue her undoer, and choose this time, The King being deadly sick, and I intending A present marriage with some forreign Prince, To strengthen and secure my self. She writes here Like a wise Gentlewoman, She will not stay: And the example of her dear brother, makes her Fear her self, to whom she means to flie.

_Tim._ Why, who can help it?

_Bac._ Now Poverty and Lechery, which is thy end, rot thee, where e'er thou goest with all thy goodness.

_Timan._ Berlady they'll bruze her: and she were of brass. I am sure they'll break stone Walls: I have had experience of them both, and they have made me desperate: but there's a messenger, Madam, come from the Prince with a Letter to _Ismenus_, who by him returns an answer.

_Bac._ This comes as pat as wishes: thou shalt presently away _Timantus_.

_Tim._ Whither Madam?

_Ba._ To the Prince, and take the Messenger for guide.

_Tim._ What shall I do there? I have done too much mischief to be believ'd again; or indeed, to scape with my head on my back, if I be once known.

_Bac._ Thou art a weak shallow fool: get thee a disguise, and withal, when thou com'st before him, have a Letter fain'd to deliver him: and then, as thou hast ever hope of goodness by me, or after me, strike one home stroke that shall not need another: dar'st thou speak, dar'st thou? if thou fall'st off, go be a Rogue again, and lie and pander to procure thy meat: dar'st thou speak to me?

_Tim._ Sure I shall never walk when I am dead: I have no spirit, Madam, I'll be drunk but I'll do it, that's all my refuge. [_Exit._

_Bac._ Away, no more, then I'll raise an Army whilst the King yet lives, if all the means and power I have can do it, I cannot tell.

_Enter_ Ismenus _and three Lords_.

_Ism._ Are you inventing still? we'll ease your studies.

_Bac._ Why how now saucy Lords?

_Ism._ Nay, I'll shake ye; yes devil, I will shake ye.

_Bac._ Do not you know me Lords?

_Nis._ Yes deadly sin we know ye, would we did not.

_Ism._ Doe you hear whore, a plague a God upon thee, the Duke is dead.

_Bach._ Dead!

_Ism._ I, wild-fire and brimstone take thee: good man he is dead, and past those miseries which thou, salt infection-like; like a disease flungst upon his head. Dost thou hear, and 'twere not more respect [to] Womanhood in general than thee, because I had a Mother, who I will not say she was good, she liv'd so near thy time, I would have thee in vengeance of this man, whose peace is made in heaven by this time, tied to a post; and dried i' th' sun, and after carried about, and shewn at Fairs for money, with a long story of the devil thy father, that taught thee to be whorish, envious, bloudy.

_Bac._ Ha, ha, ha.

_Ism._ You fleering harlot, I'll have a horse to leap thee, and thy base issue shall carry Sumpters. Come Lords, bring her along, we'll to the Prince all, where her hell-hood shall wait his censure; and if he spare the[e] she-Goat, may he lie with thee again: and beside, maist thou lay upon him some nasty foul disease, that hate still follows, and his end a dry ditch. Lead you corrupted whore, or I'll draw a goad shall make you skip: away to the Prince.

_Bac._ [Ha] ha, ha, I hope yet I shall come too late to find him.

_Cornets._ Cupid _from above_.

_Enter_ Leucippus, Urania: Leucippus _with a_ _bloody Handkerchief_.

_Leu._ Alas poor boy, why dost thou follow me? What canst thou hope for? I am poor as thou art.

_Ura._ In good feth I shall be weel and rich enough If you will love me, and not put me from you.

_Leu._ Why dost thou choose out me Boy to undo thee? Alas, for pitty take another Master, That may be able to deserve thy love In breeding thee hereafter: me thou knowest not, More than my misery: and therefore canst not Look for rewards at my hands: would I were able My pretty knave, to doe thee any kindness: truly Good Boy, I would upon my faith, thy harmless Innocence moves me at heart: wilt thou goe Save thy self; why dost thou weep? Alas, I do not chide thee.

_Ura._ I cannot tell if I go from you; Sir, I shall ne'er dawn day more: Pray if you can, I will be true to you: Let me wait on you: if I were a man, I would fight for you: Sure you have some ill-willers, I would slay [u]m.

_Leu._ Such harmless souls are ever Prophets: well, I take thy wish, thou shalt be with me still: But prethee eat, [then] my good boy: Thou wilt die my child if thou fast one day more. This four daies thou hast tasted nothing: Goe into the Cave and eat: thou shalt find something for thee, to bring thy bloud again, and thy fair colour.

_Ura._ I cannot eat, God thank you. But I'll eat to morrow.

_Leu._ Thou't be dead by that time.

_Ura._ I should be well then, for you will not love me.

_Leu._ Indeed I will. This is the prettiest passion that e'er I felt yet: why dost thou look so earnestly upon me?

_Ura._ You have fair eyes Master.

_Leu._ Sure the boy dotes: why dost thou sigh my child?

_Ura._ To think that such a fine man should live, and no gay Lady love him.

_Leu._ Thou wilt love me?

_Ura._ Yes sure till I die, and when I am in heaven, I'll e'en wish for you.

_Leu._ And I'll come to thee boy. This is a Love I never yet heard tell of: come, thou art sleepy child; goe in, and I'll sit with thee: heaven what portends this?

_Ura._ You are sad, but I am not sleepy, would I could do ought to make you merry: shall I sing?

_Leu._ If thou wilt good Boy. Alas my boy, that thou shouldst comfort me, and art far worse than I!

_Enter_ Timantus _with a Letter disguised_.

_Ura._ Law Master, there's one, look to your [sen.]

_Leu._ What art thou that in this dismal place, Which nothing could find out but misery, Thus boldly stepst? Comfort was never here, Here is no food, nor beds, nor any house Built by a better Architect than beasts; And e'r you get dwelling from one of them, You must fight for it: if you conquer him, He is your meat: if not, you must be his.

_Tim._ I come to you (for if I not mistake, you are the Prince) from that most Noble Lord _Ismenus_ with a Letter.

_Ura._ Alas, I fear I shall be discover'd now.

_Leu._ Now I feel my self the poorest of all mortal things. Where is he that receives such courtesies But he has means to shew his gratefulness Some way or other? I have none at all: I know not how to speak so much as well Of thee, but to these trees.

[Leucippus _opening the Letter, the whilst_ Timantus _runs at him, and_ Urania _steps before_.

_Tim._ His Letters speak him, Sir--

_Ura._ Gods keep me but from knowing him till I die: aye me, sure I cannot live a day, Oh thou foul Traitor: How do you Master?

_Leu._ How dost thou my child? alas, look on [t]his, it may make thee repentant, to behold those innocent drops that thou hast drawn from thence.

_Ura._ 'Tis nothing Sir, and you be well.

_Tim._ Oh pardon me, know you me now, Sir?

_Leu._ How couldst thou find me out?

_Tima._ We intercepted a Letter from _Ismenus_, and the bearer directed me.

_Leu._ Stand up _Timantus_ boldly, The world conceives that thou art guilty Of divers treasons to the State and me: But oh far be it from the innocence Of a just man, to give a Traitor death Without a tryal: here the Countrey is not To purge thee or condemn thee; therefore A nobler trial than thou dost deserve, Rather than none at all, here I accuse thee Before the face of Heaven, to be a Traitor Both to the Duke my Father and to me, and the Whole Land: speak, is it so or no?

_Tima._ 'Tis true Sir, pardon me.

_Leu._ Take heed _Timantus_ how thou dost cast away thy self, I must proceed to execution hastily if thou confess it: speak once againe, is it so or no?

_Tima._ I am not guilty, Sir.

[_Fight here: the Prince gets his_ _sword, and gives it him._

_Leu._ Gods and thy sword acquit thee, here it is.

_Tima._ I will not use any violence against your Highness.

_Leu._ At thy peril then, for this must be thy trial: and from henceforth look to thy self.

[Timantus _draws his sword, and runs_ _at him when he turns aside_.

_Tim._ I do beseech you, Sir, let me not fight.

_Leu._ Up, up again _Timantus_, There is no way but this, believe me. Now if--Fie, fie _Timantus_, is there no Usage can recover thee from baseness? wert thou Longer to converse with men, I would have chid Thee for this: be all thy faults forgiven.

_Tim._ Oh spare me Sir, I am not fit for death.

_Leu._ I think th[o]u art not, yet trust me, fitter than for life: Yet tell me e'r thy breath be gone, know'st of any other plots against me?

_Tim._ Of none.

_Leu._ What course wouldst thou have taken, when thou hadst kill'd me?

_Tim._ I would have ta'en your Page, and married her.

_Leu._ What Page?

_Tim._ Your boy there. [_Dies._

[Urania _sounds_.

_Leu._ Is he fall'n mad in death, what does he mean? Some good god help me at the worst: how dost thou? Let not thy misery vex me, thou shalt have What thy poor heart can wish: I am a Prince, And I will keep thee in the gayest cloaths, And the finest things, that ever pretty boy had given him.

_Ura._ I know you well enough, Feth I am dying, and now you know all too.

_Leu._ But stir up thy self; look what a Jewel here is, See how it glisters: what a pretty shew Will this make in thy little ear? ha, speak, Eat but a bit, and take it.

_Ura._ Do you not know me?

_Leu._ I prethee mind thy health: why that's well said my good boy, smile still.

_Ura._ I shall smile till death an I see you, I am _Urania_, your Sister-in-law.

_Leu._ How?

_Ura._ I am _Urania_.

_Leu._ Dulness did seize me, now I know thee well; Alas, why cam'st thou hither?

_Ura._ Feth for love, I would not let you know till I was dying; for you could not love me, my Mother was so naught.

_Leu._ I will love thee, or any thing: what? wilt Thou leave me as soon as I know thee? Speak one word to me: alas she's past it, She will ne'er speak more. What noise is that? it is no matter who

_Enter_ Ismenus _with the Lords_.

Comes on me now. What worse than mad are you That seek out sorrows? if you love delights Begone from hence.

_Isme._ Sir, for you we come, as Soldiers to revenge the wrongs you have suffer'd under this naughty creature: what shall be done with her? say, I am ready.

_Leu._ Leave her to Heaven, brave Cosin, they shall tell her how she has sinn'd against 'em, my hand shall never be stain'd with such base bloud: live wicked Mother: that reverend Title be your pardon, for I will use no extremity against you, but leave you to Heaven.

_Bacha._ Hell take you all, or if there be a place Of torment that exceeds that, get you thither: And till the devils have you, may your lives Be one continued plague, and such a one, That knows no friends nor ending. May all ages that shall succeed, curse you as I do: And if it be possible, I ask it heaven, That your base issues may be ever Monsters, That must for shame of nature and succession, Be drown'd like dogs. Would I had breath to [poyson] you.

_Leu._ Would you had love within you, and such grief As might become a Mother: look you there, Know you that face? that was _Urania_: These are the fruits of those unhappy Mothers, That labour with such horrid births as you do: If you can weep, there's cause; poor innocent, Your wickedness has kill'd her: I'll weep for you.

_Isme._ Monstrous woman, _Mars_ would weep at this, and yet she cannot.

_Leu._ Here lies your Minion too, slain by my hand, I will not say you are the cause: yet certain, I know you were [to] blame, the gods forgive you.

_Isme._ See, she stands as if she were inventing Some new destruction for the world.

_Leu. Ismenus_, thou art welcome yet to my sad company.

_Isme._ I come to make you somewhat sadder, Sir.

_Leu._ You cannot, I am at the height already.

_Isme._ Your Fathers dead.

_Leu._ I thought so, Heaven be with him: Oh woman, woman, weep now or never, thou hast made more sorrows than we have eyes to utter.

_Bac._ Now let Heaven fall, I am at the worst of evils, a thing so miserably wretched, that every thing, the last of humane comforts hath left me: I will not be so base and cold, to live and wait the mercies of these men I hate, no, 'tis just I die, since fortune hath left me, my step discent attends me: hand, strike thou home, I have soul enough to guide; and let all know, as I stood a Queen, the same I'll fall, and one with me. [_She stabs the Prince with a knife._

_Leu._ Ho.

_Isme._ How do you, Sir?

_Leu._ Nearer my health, than I think any here, my tongue begins to faulter: what is man? or who would be one, when he sees a poor weak woman can in an instant make him none.

_Dor._ She is dead already.

_Isme._ Let her be damn'd already as she is: post all for Surgeons.

_Leu._ Let not a man stirr, for I am but dead: I have some few words which I would have you hear, And am afraid I shall want breath to speak 'em: First to you my Lords, you know _Ismenus_ is Undoubtedly Heir of _Lycia_, I do beseech you all, When I am dead, to shew your duties to him.

_Lords._ We vow to do't.

_Leu._ I thank you. Next to you Cosin _Ismenus_, that shall be the Duke, I pray you let the broken Image of _Cupid_ Be re-edified, I know all this is done by him.

_Isme._ It shall be so.

_Leu._ Last, I beseech you that my Mother-in-law may have a burial according to-- [_Dies._

_Isme._ To what, Sir?

_Dor._ There is a full point.

_Isme._ I will interpret for him; she shall have burial according to her own deserts, with dogs.

_Dor._ I would your Majesty would haste for setling of the people.

_Isme._ I am ready.

_Age._ Goe, and let the Trumpets sound Some mournful thing, whilst we convey the body Of this unhappy Prince unto the Court, And of that virtuous Virgin to a Grave: But drag her to a ditch, where let her lie, Accurst, whilst one man has a memory. [_Exeunt._

Cupid's _Speech_.

_The time now of my Revenge draws near._ _Nor shall it lessen as I am a god,_ _With all the cries and prayers that have been;_ _And those that be to come, though they be infinite,_ _In need and number._

The Two Noble Kinsmen.

The Persons represented in the Play.

Hymen, Theseus, Hippolita, } Emelia, }_Sisters to_ Theseus Nymphs, Three Queens, Three valiant Knights, Palamon, } _'The two Noble Kinsmen, in_ Arcite, } _love with fair_ Emelia. Perithous, Jaylor, His Daughter, _in love with_ Palamon, Countrey-men, Wenches, A Taborer, Gerrold, _A Schoolmaster_.

PROLOGUE.

Florish.

_New Plays and Maiden-heads are near a-kin,_ _Much follow'd both; for both much money gi'n,_ _If they stand sound, and well: And a good Play_ _(Whose modest Scenes blush on his marriage day,_ _And shake to loose his honour) is like hir_ _That after holy Tie, and first nights stir_ _Yet still is Modesty, and still retains_ _More of the Maid to sight, than Husbands pains;_ _We pray our Play may be so; for I'm sure_ _It has a noble breeder, and a pure,_ _A Learned, and a Poet never went_ _More famous yet 'twixt_ Po, _and silver_ Trent. Chaucer (_of all admir'd_) _the Story gives,_ _There constant to eternity it lives:_ _If we let fall the Nobleness of this,_ _And the first sound this Child hear, be a hiss,_ _How will it shake the bones of that good man_ _And make him cry from under-ground. Oh fan_ _From me the witless chaff of such a writer_ _That blasts my Bayes, and my fam'd Works makes lighter_ _Than_ Robin Hood, _this is the fear we bring_ _For to say Truth, it were an endless thing:_ _And too ambitious to aspire to him;_ _Weak as we are, and almost breathless swim_ _In this deep water. Do but you hold out_ _Your helping hands, and we shall tack about,_ _And something do to save us: You shall hear_ _Scænes, though below his Art, may yet appear_ _Worth two hours travel. To his bones sweet sleep:_ _Content to you. If this Play do not keep,_ _A little dull time from us, we perceive_ _Our losses fall so thick, we must needs leave._ Florish.

_Actus Primus. Scæna Prima._

_Enter_ Hymen _with a Torch burning: a Boy, in a white Robe_ _before, singing, and strewing Flowers: after_ Hymen, _a_ _Nymph, encompassed in her Tresses, bearing a wheaten_ _Garland. Then_ Theseus _between two other Nymphs, with_ _wheaten Chaplets on their heads. Then_ Hippolita _the Bride_ _lead by_ Theseus, _and another holding a Garland over her_ _head (her Tresses likewise hanging.) After her_ Emilia _holding_ _up her Train_.

The SONG. Musick.

_Roses their sharp spines being gone,_ _Not royal in their smells alone,_ _But in their hew,_ _Maiden-Pinks, of odour faint,_ _Daizies smell-less, yet most quaint_ _And sweet Time true._

_Primrose first born, child of Ver,_ _Merry Spring time's Harbinger,_ _With her bels dimm._ _Oxlips in their Cradles growing,_ _Marigolds on death-beds blowing,_ _Larks-heels trim._ _All dear natures children sweet,_ _Lie fore Bride and Bridegrooms feet,_ [Strew Flowers. _Blessing their sence._ _Not an Angel of the Air,_ _Bird melodious, or Bird fair,_ _Is absent hence._

_The Crow, the slanderous Cuckooe, nor_ _The boading Raven, nor Clough h[ee]_ _Nor chatt'ring Pie,_ _May on our Bridehouse pearch or sing,_ _Or with them any discord bring_ _But from it fly._

_Enter three Queens in Black, with vails stain'd, with Imperial_ _Crowns. The first Queen falls down at the foot of_ Theseus; _The second fals down at the foot of_ Hippolita. _The third_ _before_ Emilia.

_1 Qu._ For pities sake, and true gentilities, Hear and respect me.

_2 Qu._ For your Mothers sake. And as you wish your womb may thrive with fair ones, Hear and respect me.

_3 Qu._ Now for the love of him whom _Jove_ hath mark'd The honor of your Bed, and for the sake Of clear Virginity, be Advocate For us, and our distresses: This good deed Shall raze you out o'th' Book of Trespasses All you are set down there.

_Thes._ Sad Lady rise.

_Hip._ Stand up.

_Emil._ No knees to me. What Woman I may steed that is distrest, Does bind me to her.

_Thes._ What's your request? Deliver you for all?

_1 Qu._ We are three Queens, whose Sovereigns fell before The wrath of cruel _Creon_; who endur'd The Beaks of Ravens, Tallents of the Kites, And pecks of Crows in the foul field[s] of _Thebs_. He will not suffer us to burn their bones, To urne their ashes, nor to take th' offence Of mortal loathsomness from the blest eye Of holy _Phoebus_, but infects the winds With stench of our slain Lords. Oh pity Duke, Thou purger of the earth, draw thy fear'd Sword That does good turns to th' world; give us the Bones Of our dead Kings, that we may Chappel them; And of thy boundless goodness take some note That for our crowned heads we have no roof; Save this which is the Lions and the Bears, And vault to every thing.

_Thes._ Pray you kneel not, I was transported with your Speech, and suffer'd Your knees to wrong themselves; I have heard the fortunes Of your dead Lords, which gives me such lamenting As wakes my vengeance, and revenge for 'em: King _Capaneus_, was your Lord the day That he should marry you, at such a season, As now it is with me, I met your Groom, By _Mars's Altar_; you were that time fair; Not _Juno's Mantle_, fairer than your Tresses, Nor in more bounty spread her. Your wheaten wreath Was then not thrash'd, nor blasted; Fortune at you Dimpled her Cheek with smiles: _Hercules_ our kinsman (Then weaker than your eyes) laid by his Club, He tumbled down upon his Nenuan hide And swore his sinews thaw'd: Oh grief, and time, Fearful consumers, you will all devour.

_1 Qu._ Oh I hope some God, Some God hath put his mercy in your manhood Whereto he'll infuse power, and press you forth Our undertaker.

_Thes._ Oh no knees, none Widow, Unto the Helmeted-_Belona_ use them, And pray for me your Soldier. Troubl'd I am. [_Turns away._

_2 Qu._ Honoured _Hippolita_ Most dreaded _Amazonian_, that hast slain The Sith-tusk'd-Bore; that with thy Arm as strong As it is white, was't near to make the male To thy Sex captive; but that this thy Lord Born to uphold Creation, in that honor First nature stil'd it in, shrunk thee into The bound thou wast o'er-flowing; at once subduing Thy force, and thy affection: Soldieress That equally canst poize sternness with pity, Whom now I know hast [much] more power on him Than ever he had on thee, who ow'st his strength, And his Love too: who is a Servant for The Tenor of the Speech. Dear Glass of Ladies. Bid him that we whom flaming war doth scorch, Under the shadow of his Sword, may cool us: Require him he advance it o'er our heads; Speak't in a womans key: like such a woman As any of us three; weep e'r you fail; lend us a knee; But touch the ground for us no longer time Than a Doves motion, when the head's pluckt off: Tell him if he i'th' blood-ciz'd field, lay swoln Shewing the Sun his Teeth, grinning at the Moon What you would do.

_Hip._ Poor Lady say no more: I had as leif trace this good action with you As that whereto I'm going, and never yet Went I so willing, way. My Lord is taken Heart deep with your distress: Let him consider; I'll speak anon.

_3 Qu._ Oh my petition was, [_Kneel to_ Emilia. Set down in Ice, which by hot grief uncandied Melts into drops, so sorrow wanting form Is prest with deeper matter.

_Emil._ Pray stand up, Your grief is written in your cheek.

_3 Qu._ Oh woe, You cannot read it there; there through my tears, Like wrinkl'd pebbles in a Glass stream You may behold 'em (Lady, Lady, alack) He that will all the treasure know o'th' earth Must know the Center too; he that will fish For my least minnow, let him lead his line To catch one at my heart. Oh pardon me; Extremity that sharpens sundry wits Makes me a fool.

_Emil._ Pray you say nothing, pray you, Who cannot feel, nor see the rain being in't, Knows neither wet, nor dry, if that you were The ground-piece of some Painter, I would buy you T'instruct me 'gainst a capital grief indeed Such heart-pierc'd demonstration; but alas Being a natural Sister of our Sex Your sorrow beats so ardently upon me: That it shall make a counter-reflect 'gainst My Brothers heart, and warm it to some pity Though it were made of stone: pray have good comfort:

_Thes._ Forward to th' Temple, leave not out a jot O' th' sacred ceremony.

_1 Qu._ Oh this celebration Will long last, and be more costly than Your Suppliants war: Remember that your Fame Knowls in the ear o'th' world: what you do quickly, Is not done rashly; your first thought is more, Than others laboured meditance: your premeditating More than their actions: But oh _Jove_, your actions, Soon as they move, as Asprays do the fish, Subdue before they touch: think, dear Duke think What beds our slain Kings have.

_2 Qu._ What griefs our beds That our dear Lords have none.

_3 Qu._ None fit for th' dead: Those that with Cords, Knives, Drams precipitance, Weary of this worlds light, have to themselves Been deaths most horrid Agents, humane grace Affords them dust and shadow.

_1 Qu._ But our Lords Lie blist'ring 'fore the visitating Sun, And were good Kings, when living.

_Thes._ It is true, and I will give you comfort, To give your dead Lords graves: The which to do must make some work with _Creon_.

_1 Qu._ And that work presents it self to th' doing: Now 'twill take form, the heats are gone to morrow, Then bootless toil must recompence it self, With its own sweat; Now he's secure, Not dre[a]ms, we stand before your puissance Wrinching our holy begging in our eyes To make petition clear.

_2 Qu._ Now you may take him, Drunk with his victory.

_3 Qu._ And his Army full Of Bread, and sloth.

_Thes. Artesis_ that best knowest How to draw out, fit to this enterprize, The prim'st for this proceeding, and the number To carry such a business, forth and levy Our worthiest Instruments, whilst we dispatch This grand act of our life, this daring deed Of Fate in wedlock.

_1 Qu._ Dowagers, take hands Let us be Widows to our woes, delay Commends us to a famishing hope.

_All._ Farewell.

_2 Qu._ We come unseasonably: But when could grief Cull forth as unpanged judgement can, fit'st time For best solicitation.

_Thes._ Why good Ladies, This is a service, whereto I am going, Greater than any was; it more imports me Than all the actions that I have foregone, Or futurely can cope.

_1 Qu._ The more proclaiming Our suit shall be neglected, when her Arms, Able to lock _Jove_ from a Synod, shall By warranting Moon-light corslet thee, oh when Her twining Cherries shall their sweetness fall Upon thy tastful Lips, what wilt thou think Of rotten Kings, or blubber'd Queens, what care For what thou feel'st not? what thou feel'st being able To make _Mars_ spurn his Drom. Oh if thou couch But one night with her, every hour in't will Take hostage of thee for a hundred, and Thou shalt remember nothing more, than what That Banquet bids thee too.

_Hip._ Though much unlike You should be so transported, as much sorry I should be such a Suitor; yet I think Did I not by th' abstaining of my joy Which breeds a deeper longing, cure their surfeit That craves a present med'cine, I should pluck All Ladies scandal on me. Therefore Sir As I shall here make trial of my Prayers, Either presuming them to have some force, Or sentencing for ay their vigor dumb, Prorogue this business, we are going about, and hang Your Shield afore your heart, about that neck Which is my Fee, and which I freely lend To do these poor Queens service.

_All Queens._ Oh help now Our Cause cries for your knee.

_Emil._ If you grant not My Sister her petition in that force, With that Celerity, and nature which She makes it in: from henceforth I'll not dare To ask you any thing, nor be so hardy Ever to take a Husband.

_Thes._ Pray stand up. I am intreating of my self to do That which you kneel to have me; _Pyrithous_ Lead on the Bride; get you and pray the gods For success, and return; omit not any thing In the pretended Celebration; Queens Follow your Soldier (as before) hence you And at the banks of _Anly_ meet us with The forces you can raise, where we shall find The moiety of a number, for a business, More bigger look't; since that our Theme is haste I stamp this kiss uppon thy currant Lip, Sweet keep it as my token; set you forward For I will see you gone. [_Exeunt towards the Temple._ Farewel my beauteous Sister; _Pyrithous_ Keep the Feast full, bate not an hour on't.

_Pyri._ Sir, I'll follow you at heels; The Feasts solemnity Shall want till your return.

_Thes._ Cosin I charge you Budge not from _Athens_; we shall be returning E'r you can end this Feast; of which I pray you Make no abatement; once more farewel all.

_1 Qu._ Thus dost thou still make good the tongue o'th' world.

_[2] Qu._ And earnst a Deity equal with _Mars_.

_3 Qu._ If not above him, for Thou being but mortal, makest affections bend To godlike honors; they themselves some say Groan under such a Mast'ry.

_Thes._ As we are men Thus should we doe, being sensually subdu'd We loose our humane Title; good cheer Ladies. _Florish._ Now turn we towards our Comforts. [_Exeunt._

_Scæna Secunda._

_Enter_ Palamon, _and_ Arcite.

_Arcite._ Dear _Palamon_, dearer in Love than Blood And our prime Cosin, yet unhard'ned in The Crimes of nature; Let us leave the City _Thebs_, and the temptings in't, before we further Sully our gloss of youth, And here to keep in abstinence we shame As in Incontinence; for not to swim I' th' aid o'th' current, were almost to sink, At least to frustrate striving, and to follow The common stream, 't would bring us to an Eddy Where we should turn or drown; if labour through, Our gain but life, and weakness.

_Pal._ Your advice Is cry'd up with example; what strange ruins Since first we went to School, may we perceive Walking in _Thebs_! Skars, and bare weeds The gain o'th' Martialist, who did propound To his bold ends, honor, and golden Ingots, Which though he won, he had not, and now flurted By peace, for whom he fought, who then shall offer To _Mars's_ so scorn'd Altar? I doe bleed When such I meet, and wish great _Juno_ would Resume her antient fit of _jealousie_ To get the Soldier work, that peace might purge For her repletion, and retain anew Her charitable heart now hard, and harsher Than strife, or war could be.

_Arcite._ Are you not out? Meet you no ruin, but the Soldier in The crancks and turns of _Thebs_? you did begin As if you met decaies of many kinds: Perceive you none, that do arouse your pity But th' unconsider'd Soldier?

_Pal._ Yes, I pity Decaies where-e'er I find them, but such most That sweating in an honourable toil Are paid with Ice to cool 'em.

_Arcite._ 'Tis not this I did begin to speak of, this is virtue Of no respect in _Thebs_, I spake of _Thebs_ How dangerous if we will keep our honors, It is for our residing, where every evil Hath a good colour; where ev'ry seeming good's A certain evil, where not to be ev'n jump As they are, here were to be strangers, and Such things to be meer Monsters.

_Pal._ 'Tis in our power, (Unless we fear that Apes can Tutor's) to Be Masters of our manners: what need I Affect anothers gate, which is not catching Where there is faith, or to be fond upon Anothers way of speech, when by mine own I may be reasonably conceiv'd; sav'd too, Speaking it truly; why am I bound By any generous bond to follow him Follows his Taylor, haply so long, until The follow'd, make pursuit? or let me know, Why mine own Barber is unblest, with him My poor Chinn too, for 'tis not Cizard just To such a Favorites glass: What Cannon is there That does command my Rapier from my hip To dangle't in my hand, or to goe tip toe Before the street be foul? either I am The fore-horse in the Team, or I am none That draw i' th' sequent trace: these poor slight sores, Need not a Plantain; That which [r]ips my bosome Almost to th' heart's.

_Arcite._ Our Uncle _Creon_.

_Pal._ He, A most unbounded Tyrant, whose successes Makes Heaven unfear'd, and villany assured Beyond its power: there's nothing, almost puts Faith in a Feavor, and deifies alone Voluble chance, who only attributes The faculties of other Instruments To his own Nerves and act; Commands men service, And what they win in't, boot and glory on; That fears not to [do] harm; good, dares not; Let The bloud of mine that's sibbe to him, be suckt From me with Leeches, let them break and fall Off me with that corruption.

_Arc._ Clear spirited Cosin Let's leave his Court, that we may nothing share, Of his loud infamy: for our milk, Will relish of the pasture, and we must Be vile, or disobedient, not his kinsmen In blood, unless in quality.

_Pal._ Nothing truer: I think the ecchoes of his shames have deaf't The ears of heav'nly Justice: widdows cries Descend again into their throats, and have not Due audience of the gods: _Valerius_.

_Enter_ Valerius.

_Val._ The King calls for you; yet be leaden-footed Till his great rage be off him. _Phebus_ when He broke his whipstock, and exclaim'd against The Horses of the Sun, but whisper'd to The loudness of his fury.

_Pal._ Small winds shake him, But what's the matter?

_Val. Theseus_ (who where he threats appals,) hath sent Deadly defiance to him, and pronounces Ruin to _Thebs_, who is at hand to seal The promise of his wrath.

_Arc._ Let him approach: But that we fear the gods in him, he brings not A jot of terror to us; yet what man Thirds his own worth (the case is each of ours) When that his actions dregg'd, with mind assur'd 'Tis bad he goes about.

_Pal._ Leave that unreason'd. Our services stand now for _Thebs_, not _Creon_, Yet to be neutral to him, were dishonor; Rebellious to oppose: therefore we must With him stand to the mercy of our Fate, Who hath bounded our last minute.

_Arc._ So we must; Ist sed this wars afoot? or it shall be On fail of some condition.

_Val._ 'Tis in motion The intelligence of state came in the instant With the defier.

_P[a]l._ Let's to the King, who, were he A quarter carrier of that honor, which His enemy came in, the bloud we venture Should be as for our health, which were not spent, Rather laid out for purchase: but alas Our hands advanc'd before our hearts, what will The fall o' th' stroke do damage?

_Arci._ Let th' event, That never-erring Arbitrator, tell us When we know all our selves, and let us follow The becking of our chance. [_Exeunt._

_Scena Tertia._

_Enter_ Perithous, Hippolita, Emilia.

_Pir._ No further.

_Hip._ Sir farewel; repeat my wishes To our great Lord, of whose success I dare not Make any timerous question; yet I wish him Excess, and overflow of power, and't might be To dure ill-dealing fortune; speed to him, Store never hurts good Governors.

_Pir._ Though I know His Ocean needs not my poor drops, yet they Must yield their tribute there: My precious Maid, Those best affections that the heavens infuse In their best temper'd pieces, keep enthron'd In your dear heart.

_Emil._ Thanks Sir; remember me To our all-Royal Brother, for whose speed The great _Bellona_ I'll solicite; and Since in our terrene State, petitions are not Without gifts understood: I'll offer to her What I shall be advis'd she likes; our hearts Are in his Army, in his Tent.

_Hip._ In's bosom: We have been Soldiers, and we cannot weep When our Friends do'n their helms, or put to Sea, Or tell of Babes broach'd on the Launce, or Women That have sod their Infants in (and after eat them) The brine, they wept at killing 'em; Then if You stay to see of us such Spinsters, we Should hold you here for ever.

_Pir._ Peace be to you As I pursue this war, which shall be then Beyond further requiring. [_Exit_ Pir.

_Emil._ How his longing Follows his friend; since his depart, his sports Though craving seriousness, and skill, past slightly His careless execution, where nor gain Made him regard, or loss consider, but Playing o'er business in his hand, another Directing in his head, his mind, nurse equal To these so diff'ring Twins; have you observ'd him, Since our great Lord departed?

_Hip._ With much labour: And I did love him for't, they two have Cabin'd In many as dangerous, as poor a corner, Peril and want contending, they have skift Torrents, whose roaring tyranny and power I'th' least of these was dreadful, and they have Fought out together, where Death's-self was lodg'd, Yet Fate hath brought them off: their knot of love Ti'd, weav'd, intangl'd, with so true, so long, And with a finger of so deep a cunning May be out-worn, never undone. I think _Theseus_ cannot be umpire to himself Cleaving his conscience into twain, and doing Each side like Justice, which he loves best.

_Emil._ Doubtless There is a best, and reason has no manners To say it is not you: I was acquainted Once with a time, when I enjoy'd a Play-fellow; You were at wars, when she the grave enrich'd, Who made too proud the Bed, took leave o' th' Moon (Which then lookt pale at parting) when our count Was each eleven.

_Hip._ 'Twas _Flavia_.

[_Two Hearses ready with_ Palamon, _and_ Arcite: _The three Queens_. Theseus, _and his Lords ready_.

_Emil._ Yes, You talk of _Pirithous_ and _Theseus_ love; Theirs has more ground, is more maturely season'd, More buckled with strong judgement, and their needs The one of th' other may be said to water Their intertangled roots of love, but I And she (I sigh and spoke of) were things innocent, Lov'd for we did, and like the Elements That know not what, nor why, yet do effect Rare issues by their operance; our souls Did so to one another; what she lik'd, Was then of me approv'd, what not condemn'd No more arraignment, the flower that I would pluck And put between my breasts, oh (then but beginning To swell about the blossom) she would long Till she had such another, and commit it To the like innocent Cradle, where _Phenix_-like They di'd in perfume: on my head no toy But was her pattern, her affections pretty Though happily, her careless, were, I followed For my most serious decking, had mine ear Stol'n some new air, or at adventure humm'd on From musical Coynage, why, it was a Note Whereon her spirits would sojourn (rather dwell on) And sing it in her slumbers; This rehearsal (Which fury innocent wots well) comes in Like old importments-bastard, has this end; That the true love 'tween Maid, and Maid, may be More than in sex individual.

_Hip._ Y'are out of breath And this high speeded-pace, is but to say That you shall never (like the Maid _Flavina_) Love any that's call'd Man.

_Emil._ I'm sure I shall not.

_Hip._ Now alack weak Sister, I must no more believe thee in this point (Though in't I know thou dost believe thy self) Then I will trust a sickly appetite, That loaths even as it longs, but sure my Sister If I were ripe for your perswasion, you Have said enough to shake me from the Arm Of the all noble _Theseus_, for whose fortunes, I will now in, and kneel with great assurance, That we, more than his _Pirathous_, possess The high Throne in his heart.

_E[m]il._ I am not against your faith, Yet I continue mine. [_Exeunt Cornets._

_Scena Quarta._

_A Battel struck within: then a Retreat: Florish. Then Enter_ Theseus _(victor) the three Queens meet him, and fall on their_ _faces before him_.

_1 Qu._ To thee no Star be dark.

_2 Qu._ Both Heaven and Earth Friend thee for ever.

_3 Qu._ All the good that may Be wish'd upon thy head, I cry _Amen_ to't.

_Thes._ Th'impartial gods, who from the mounted heavens View us their mortal Herd, behold who erre, And in their time chastise: goe and find out The bones of your dead Lords, and honor them With treble ceremony, rather than a gap Should be in their dear rights, we would supply't. But those we will depute, which shall invest You in your dignities, and even each thing Our haste does leave imperfect; So adieu And heavens good eyes look on you, what are those? [_Exeunt_ Queens.

_Herald._ Men of great quality, as may be judg'd By their appointment; some of _Thebs_ have told's They are Sisters children, Nephews to the King.

_Thes._ By th' Helme of _Mars_, I saw them in the War, Like to a pair of Lions, smear'd with prey, Make lanes in troops agast. I fixt my note Constantly on them; for they were a mark Worth a god's view: what prisoner was't that told me When I enquir'd their names?

_Herald._ We leave, they'r called _Arcite_ and _Palamon_.

_Thes._ 'Tis right, those, those They are not dead? [_Three Hearses ready._

_Her._ Nor in a state of life, had they been taken When their last hurts were given, 'twas possible They might have been recover'd; Yet they breathe And have the name of men.

_Thes._ Then like men use 'em The very lees of such (millions of rates) Exceed the Wine of others, all our Surgeons Convent in their behoof, our richest balmes Rather than niggard waste, their lives concern us, Much more than _Thebs_ is worth, rather than have 'em Freed of this plight, and in their morning state (Sound and at liberty) I would 'em dead, But forty thousand fold, we had rather have 'em Prisoners to us, than death; bear 'em speedily From our kind air, to them unkind, and minister What man to man may do for our sake more, Since I have known frights, fury, friends, beheasts, Loves, provocations, zeal, a Mistriss taske, Desire of liberty, a feavor, madness, Hath set a mark which nature could not reach too Without some imposition, sickness in Will Or wrestling strength in reason, for our Love And great _Apollos_ mercy, all our best, Their best [skill] tender. Lead into the City, Where having bound things scatter'd, we will post. _Florish._ To _Athens_ for o[u]r Army. [_Exeunt. Musick._

_Scena Quinta._

_Enter the Queens, with the Hearses of their Knights,_ _in a Funeral Solemnity_, &c.

_Urns and Odours, bring away,_ _Vapors, sighs, darken the day;_ _Our dole more deadly looks, than dying_ _Balmes, and Gumms, and heavy cheers,_

_Sacred vi[a]ls fill'd with tears,_ _And clamors, through the wild air flying_:

_Come all sad and solemn Shows,_ _That are quick-ey'd pleasures foes;_ _We convent nought else but woes._ _We convent_, &c.

_3 Qu._ This funeral path, brings to your houshold[s] grave[:] Joy seize on you again: peace, sleep with him.

_2 Qu._ And this to yours.

_1 Qu._ Yours this way: Heavens lend A thousand differing ways to one sure end.

_3 Qu._ This world's a City full of straying streets, And Death's the Market-place, where each one meets.

[_Exeunt severally._

_Actus Secundus. Scæna Prima._

_Enter Jaylor and Wooer._

_Jail._ I may depart with little, while I live, something I May cast to you, not much: Alas the Prison I Keep, though it be for great ones, yet they seldom Come; before one _Salmon_, you shall take a number Of Minnows: I am given out to be better lin'd Than it can appear, to me report is a true Speaker: I would I were really, that I am Deliver'd to be: Marry, what I have (be it what It will) I will assure upon my daughter at The day of my death.

_Wooer._ Sir, I demand no more than your own offer, And I will estate your Daughter, in what I Have promised.

_Jail._ Well, we will talk more of this, when the solemnity Is past; But have you a full promise of her?

_Enter Daughter._

When that shall be seen, I tender my consent.

_Wooer._ I have Sir; here she comes.

_Jail._ Your friend and I have chanced to name You here, upon the old business: but no more of that. Now, so soon as the Court-hurry is over, we will Have an end of it: I' th' mean time look tenderly To the two prisoners. I can tell you they are Princes.

_Daugh._ These strewings are for their Chamber; 'tis pity they Are in prison, and 'twere pity they should be out: I Do think they have patience to make any adversity Asham'd; the prison it self is proud of 'em; and They have all the world in their Chamber.

_Jail._ They are fam'd to be a pair of absolute men.

_Daugh._ By my troth, I think Fame but stammers 'em, they Stand a grief above the reach of report.

_Jail._ I heard them reported in the battel, to be the only doers.

_Daugh._ Nay, most likely, for they are noble sufferers; I Marvel how they would have look'd, had they been Victors, that with such a constant Nobility, enforce A freedom out of bondage, making misery their Mirth, and affliction a toy to jest at.

_Jail._ Doe they so?

_Daugh._ It seems to me, they have no more sence of their Captivity, than I of ruling _Athens_: they eat Well, look merrily, discourse of many things, But nothing of their own restraint, and disasters: Yet sometime a divided sigh, martyr'd as 'twere I' th' deliverance, will break from one of them, When the other presently gives it so sweet a rebuke, That I could wish my self a sigh to be so chid, Or at least a sigher to be comforted.

_Wooer._ I never saw 'em.

_Jail._ The Duke himself came privately in the night.

_Enter_ Palamon, _and_ Arcite _above_.

And so did they, what the reason of it is, I Know not: Look, yonder they are; that's _Arcite_ looks out.

_Daugh._ No Sir, no, that's _Palamon_: _Arcite_ is the Lower of the twain; you may perceive a part Of him.

_Jail._ Go to, leave your pointing; they would not Make us their object; out of their sight.

_Daugh._ It is a holliday to look on them: Lord, the Difference of men. [_Exeunt._

_Scæna Secunda._

_Enter_ Palamon, _and_ Arcite _in prison_.

_Pal._ How do you, Noble Cosin?

_Arcite._ How do you, Sir?

_Pal._ Why, strong enough to laugh at misery, And bear the chance of war yet, we are prisoners I fear for ever Cosin.

_Arcite._ I believe it, And to that destiny have patiently Laid up my hour to come.

_Pal._ Oh Cosin _Arcite_, Where is _Thebs_ now? where is our noble Countrey? Where are our friends, and kindreds? never more Must we behold those comforts, never see The hardy youths strive for the Games of honor (Hung with the painted favours of their Ladies) Like tall Ships under Sail: then start amongst 'em And as an Eastwind leave 'em all behind us, Like lazy Clouds, whilst _Palamon_ and _Arcite_, Even in the wagging of a wanton leg Out-stript the peoples praises, won the Garlands, E'r they have time to wish 'em ours. Oh never Shall we two exercise, like twins of honor, Our Arms again, and feel our fiery horses, Like proud Seas under us, our good Swords, now (Better the red-ey'd god of War nev'r were) Bravish'd our sides, like age, must run to rust, And deck the Temples of those gods that hate us, These hands shall never draw 'em out like light'ning To blast whole Armies more.

_Arcite._ No _Palamon_, Those hopes are prisoners with us, here we are And here the graces of our youths must wither Like a too-timely Spring; here age must find us, And which is heaviest (_Palamon_) unmarried, The sweet embraces of a loving wife Loaden with kisses, arm'd with thousand _Cupids_ Shall never claspe our necks, no issue know us, No figures of our selves shall we ev'r see, To glad our age, and like young Eagles teach 'em Boldly to gaze against bright arms, and say Remember what your Fathers were, and conquer. The fair-ey'd Maids, shall weep our banishments, And in their Songs, curse ever-blinded fortune Till she for shame see what a wrong she has done To youth and nature; This is all our world; We shall know nothing here, but one another, Hear nothing, but the clock that tels our woes. The Vine shall grow, but we shall never see it: Summer shall come, and with her all delights; But dead-cold winter must inhabit here still.

_Pal._ 'Tis too true _Arcite_. To our Theban hounds, That shook the aged Forrest with their ecchoes, No more now must we hollo, no more shake Our pointed Javelins, whilst the angry Swine Flies like a Parthian quiver from our rages, Struck with our well-steel'd Darts: All valiant uses, (The food and nourishment of noble minds,) In us two here shall perish; we shall die (Which is the curse of honor) lastly, Children of grief, and Ignorance.

_Arc._ Yet Cosin, Even from the bottom of these miseries From all that fortune can inflict upon us, I see two comforts rising, two meer blessings, If the gods please, to hold here a brave patience, And the enjoying of our griefs together. Whilst _Palamon_ is with me, let me perish If I think this our prison.

_Pala._ Certainly, 'Tis a main goodness, Cosin, that our fortunes Were twin'd together; 'tis most true, two souls Put in two noble bodies, let 'em suffer The gaul of hazard, so they grow together, Will never sink, they must not, say they could, A willing man dies sleeping, and all's done.

_Arc._ Shall we make worthy uses of this place That all men hate so much?

_Pal._ How gentle Cosin?

_Arc._ Let's think this prison, Holy Sanctuary, To keep us from corruption of worse men, We are young, and yet desire the wayes of honour, That liberty and common conversation, The poison of pure spirits, might, like women, Wooe us to wander from. What worthy blessing Can be but our imaginations May make it ours? And here being thus together, We are an endless mine to one another; We are one anothers Wife, ever begetting New births of love; we are Father, Friends, Acquaintance, We are, in one another, Families, I am your Heir, and you are mine: This place Is our Inheritance: no hard oppressor Dare take this from us; here with a little patience We shall live long, and loving: No surfeits seek us: The hand of War hurts none here, nor the Seas Swallow their youth: were we at liberty, A Wife might part us lawfully, or business, Quarrels consume us: Envy of ill men Crave our acquaintance, I might sicken Cosin, Where you should never know it, and so perish Without your noble hand to close mine eyes, Or prayers to the gods; a thousand chances Were we from hence, would sever us.

_Pal._ You have made me (I thank you Cosin _Arcite_) almost wanton With my Captivity: what a misery It is to live abroad! and every where: 'Tis like a Beast me thinks: I find the Court here, I 'm sure a more content, and all those pleasures That wooe the Wills of men to vanity, I see through now; and am sufficient To tell the world, 'tis but a gaudy shadow, That old Time, as he passes by, takes with him, What had we been old in the Court of _Creon_, Where sin is Justice, Lust, and Ignorance, The virtues of the great ones: Cosin _Arcite_ Had not the loving gods found this place for us We had di'd as they doe, ill old men unwept, And had their Epitaphs, the peoples Curses, Shall I say more?

_Arc._ I would hear you still.

_Pal._ Ye shall. Is there record of any two that lov'd Better than we two _Arcite_?

_Arc._ Sure there cannot.

_Pal._ I doe not think it possible our friendship Should ever leave us.

_Arc._ Till our deaths it cannot.

_Enter_ Emilia _and her Woman_.

And after death our spirits shall be led To those that love eternally. Speak on Sir. This Garden has a world of pleasures in't.

_Emil._ What Flower is this?

_Wom._ 'Tis call'd _Narcissus_, Madam.

_Emil._ That was a fair Boy certain, but a fool, To love himself, were there not Maids enough?

_Arc._ Pray forward.

_Pal._ Yes.

_Emil._ Or were they all hard-hearted?

_Wom._ They could not be to one so fair.

_Emil._ Thou wouldst not.

_Wom._ I think I should not, Madam.

_Emil._ That's a good wench: But take heed to your kindness though.

_Wom._ Why Madam?

_Emil._ Men are mad things.

_Arcite._ Will ye go forward, Cosin?

_Emil._ Canst not thou work such Flowers in Silk wench?

_Wom._ Yes.

_Emil._ I'll have a Gown full of 'em, and of these, This is a pretty colour, wil't not do Rarely upon a skirt wench?

_Wom._ Dainty Madam.

_Arc._ Cosin, Cosin, how do you, Sir? Why _Palamon_?

_Pal._ Never till now, I was in prison _Arcite_.

_Arc._ Why, what's the matter man?

_Pal._ Behold, and wonder. By heaven she is a Goddess.

_Arcite._ Ha.

_Pal._ Do reverence. She is a Goddess _Arcite_.

_Emil._ Of all Flowers, Methinks a Rose is best.

_Wom._ Why gentle Madam?

_Emil._ It is the very Emblem of a Maid. For when the West wind courts her gently How modestly she blows, and paints the Sun, With her chaste blushes! When the North comes near her, Rude and impatient, then like Chastity She locks her beauties in her bud again, And leaves him to base briers.

_Wom._ Yet good Madam, Sometimes her modesty will blow so far She falls for't: a Maid If she have any honor, would be loth To take example by her.

_Emil._ Thou art wanton.

_Arc._ She is wondrous fair.

_Pal._ She is all the beauty extant.

_Emil._ The Sun grows high, let's walk in, keep these flowers, We'll see how near Art can come near their colours; I'm wondrous merry-hearted, I could laugh now.

_Wom._ I could lie down I am sure.

_Emil._ And take one with you?

_Wom._ That's as we bargain, Madam.

_Emil._ Well, agree then. [_Exeunt_ Emilia _and Woman_.

_Pal._ What think you of this beauty?

_Arc._ 'Tis a rare one.

_Pal._ Is't but a rare one?

_Arc._ Yes, a matchless beauty.

_Pal._ Might not a man well lose himself, and love her?

_Arc._ I cannot tell what you have done, I have, Beshrew mine eyes for't, now I feel my Shackles.

_Pal._ You love her then?

_Arc._ Who would not?

_Pal._ And desire her?

_Arc._ Before my liberty.

_Pal._ I saw her first.

_Arc._ That's nothing.

_Pal._ But it shall be.

_Arc._ I saw her too.

_Pal._ Yes, but you must not love her.

_Arc._ I will not as you do; to worship her; As she is heavenly, and a blessed goddess; (I love her as a woman, to enjoy her) So both may love.

_Pal._ You shall not love at all.

_Arc._ Not love at all; Who shall denie me?

_Pal._ I that first saw her; I that took possession First with mine eye of all those beauties In her reveal'd to mankind: if thou lov'st her; Or entertain'st a hope to blast my wishes, Thou art a Traitor _Arcite_, and a fellow False as thy Title to her: friendship, bloud And all the ties between us I disclai[m] If thou once think upon her.

_Arc._ Yes, I love her, And if the lives of all my name lay on it, I must do so, I love her with my soul, If that will lose ye, farewel _Palamon_. I say again, I love, and in loving her, maintain I am as worthy and as free a Lover And have as just a title to her beauty As any _Palamon_, or any living That is a mans Son.

_Pal._ Have I call'd thee friend?

_Arc._ Yes, and have found me so; why are you mov'd thus? Let me deal coldly with you, am not I Part of your blood, part of your soul? you have told me That I was _Palamon_, and you were _Arcite_.

_Pal._ Yes.

_Arc._ Am not I liable to those affections, Those joyes, griefs, angers, fears, my friend shall suffer?

_Pal._ Ye may be.

_Arc._ Why then would you deal so cunningly, So strangely, so unlike a Noble Kinsman To love alone? speak truly, do you think me Unworthy of her sight?

_Pal._ No, but unjust, If thou pursue that [si]ght.

_Arc._ Because another First sees the Enemy, shall I stand still And let mine honor down, and never charge?

_Pal._ Yes, if he be but one.

_Arc._ But say that one Had rather combat me?

_Pal._ Let that one say so, And use thy freedom: else if thou pursuest her, Be as that cursed man that hates his Countrey, A branded villain.

_Arc._ You are mad.

_Pal._ I must be. Till thou art worthy, _Arcite_, it concerns me, And in this madness, if I hazard thee And take thy life, I deal but truly.

_Arc._ Fie Sir. You play the child extreamly: I will love her, I must, I ought to do so, and I dare, And all this justly.

_Pal._ Oh that now, that now Thy false-self, and thy friend, had but this fortune To be one hour at liberty, and graspe Our good swords in our hands, I would quickly teach thee What 'twere to filch affection from another: Thou art baser in it than a Cutpurse; Put but thy head out of this window more, And as I have a soul, I'll nail thy life to't.

_Arc._ Thou dar'st not fool, thou canst not, thou art feeble. Put my head out? I'll throw my Body out, And leap the Garden, when I see her next.

_Enter Keeper._

And pitch between her Arms to anger thee.

_Pal._ No more; the Keepers coming; I shall live To knock thy brains out with my Shackles.

_Arc._ Doe.

_Keep._ By your leave, Gentlemen.

_Pala._ Now honest Keeper?

_Keep._ Lord _Arcite_, you must presently to th' Duke; The cause I know not yet.

_Arc._ I am ready Keeper.

_Keep._ Prince _Palamon_, I must awhile bereave you Of your fair Cosins company. [_Exeunt_ Arcite, _and Keeper_.

_Pal._ And me too, Even when you please of life; why is he sent for? It may be he shall marry her, he's goodly, And like enough the Duke hath taken notice Both of his Bloud and Body: but his falshood, Why should a friend be treacherous? if that Get him a Wife so noble, and so fair; Let honest men ne'er love again. Once more I would but see this fair one: blessed Garden, And Fruit, and Flowers more blessed that still blossom As her bright eies shine on ye. Would I were For all the fortune of my life hereafter Yon little Tree, yon blooming Apricock; How I would spread, and fling my wanton arms In at her window; I would bring her fruit Fit for the gods to feed on: youth and pleasure Still as she tasted should be doubled on her, And if she be not heavenly, I would make her So near the gods in nature, they should fear her.

_Enter Keeper._

And then I'm sure she would love me: how now Keeper, Where's _Arcite_?

_Keep._ Banish'd: Prince _Pirithous_ Obtain'd his liberty; but never more Upon his oath and life must he set foot Upon this Kingdom.

_Pal._ He's a blessed man, He shall see _Thebes_ again, and call to Arms The bold young men, that when he bids 'em charge, Fall on like fire: _Arcite_ shall have a Fortune, If he dare make himself a worthy Lover, Yet in the Field to strike a battel for her; And if he lose her then, he's a cold Coward; How bravely may he bear himself to win her If he be noble _Arcite_; thousand ways. Were I at liberty, I would do things Of such a virtuous greatness, that this Lady, This blushing Virgin should take manhood to her And seek to ravish me.

_Keep._ My Lord for you I have this charge too.

_Pal._ To discharge my life.

_Keep._ No, but from this place to remove your Lordship, The windows are too open.

_Pal._ Devils take 'em That are so envious to me; prethee kill me.

_Keep._ And hang for't afterward.

_Pal._ By this good light Had I a sword I would kill thee.

_Keep._ Why my Lord?

_Pal._ Thou bring'st such pelting scurvy news continually Thou art not worthy life; I will not go.

_Keep._ Indeed you must my Lord.

_Pal._ May I see the Garden?

_Keep._ No.

_Pal._ Then I am resolv'd, I will not go.

_Keep._ I must constrain you then: and, for you are dangerous I'll clap more irons on you.

_Pal._ Doe good Keeper. I'll shake 'em so, ye shall not sleep, I'll make ye a new Morri[ss]e, must I goe?

_Keep._ There is no remedy.

_Pal._ Farewel kind window. May rude wind never hurt thee. Oh my Lady, If ever thou hast felt what sorrow was, Dream how I suffer. Come; now bury me. [_Exeunt_ Palamon _and Keeper_.

_Scæna Tertia._

_Enter_ Arcite.

_Arcite._ Banish'd the Kingdom? 'tis a benefit, A mercy I must thank 'em for, but banish'd The free enjoying of that face I die for, Oh 'twas a studdied punishment, a death Beyond Imagination: Such a vengeance That were I old and wicked, all my sins Could never pluck upon me, _Palamon_; Thou hast the Start now, thou shalt stay and see Her bright eyes break each morning 'gainst thy window, And let in life into thee; Thou shalt feed Upon the sweetness of a noble beauty, That nature never exceeded, nor never shall: Good gods! what happiness has _Palamon_! Twenty to one, he'll come to speak to her, And if she be as gentle, as she's fair, I know she's his, he has a Tongue will tame Tempests, and make the wild Rocks wanton. Come what can come, The worst is death; I will not leave the Kingdom, I know mine own is but a heap of ruins, And no redress there, if I go, he has her, I 'm resolv'd an other shape shall make me, Or end my fortunes. Either way, I' m happy: I'll see her, and be near her, or no more.

_Enter 4. Country people, & one with a garland before them._

_1._ My Masters, I'll be there that's certain.

_2._ And I'll be there.

_3._ And I.

_4._ Why then have with ye Boys; 'Tis but [a] chiding, Let the plough play to day, I'll tick['lt] out Of the jades tails to morrow.

_1._ I 'm sure To have my wife as jealous as a Turkey: But that's all one, I'll goe through, let her mumble.

_2._ Clap her aboard to morrow night, and stoa her, And all's made up again.

_3._ I, do but put a fesku in her fist, and you shall see her Take a new lesson out, and be a good wench. Doe we all hold, against the Maying?

_4._ Hold? what should ail us?

_3. Arcas_, will be there.

_2._ And _Sennois_. And _Rycas_, and 3. Better lads never danc'd under green Tree, And yet know what wenches: ha? But will the dainty _Domine_, the Schoolemaster keep touch Doe you think: For he do's all ye know.

_3._ He'll eat a hornbook ere he fail: goe too, the matter's too far driven between him, and the Tanners daughter, to let slip now, and she must see the Duke, and she must dance too.

_4._ Shall we be lusty.

_2._ All the Boys in Athens blow wind i'th' breech on's, and here I'll be and there I'll be, for our Town, and here again, and there again: Ha, Boys, heigh for the weavers.

_1._ This must be done i'th woods.

_4._ O pardon me.

_2._ By any means our thing of learning sees so: Where he himself will edifie the Duke most parlously in our behalfs: He's excellent i'th' woods, bring him to'th' plains, his learning makes no cry.

_3._ We'll see the sports, then every man to's Tackle: and Sweet Companions lets rehearse by any means, before The Ladies see us, and doe sweetly, and God knows what May come on't.

_4._ Content; the sports once ended, we'll perform. Away Boys and hold.

_Arc._ By your leaves honest friends: Pray you w[h]ither goe you.

_4._ Whither? Why, what a question's that!

_Arc._ Yes, 'tis a question, to me that know not.

_3._ To the _Games_, my Friend.

_2._ Where were you bred you know it not?

_Arc._ Not far Sir, Are there such _Games_, to day?

_1._ Yes marry are there: And such as you never saw; The _Duke_, himself Will be in person there.

_Arc._ What pastimes are they?

_2._ Wrastling, and Running; 'Tis a pretty Fellow.

_3._ Thou wilt not goe along.

_Arc._ Not yet Sir.

_4._ Well Sir Take your own time, come Boys.

_1._ My mind misgives me This fellow has a veng'ance trick o'th hip, Marke how his Bodi's made for't.

_2._ I'll be hang'd though If he dare venture, hang him plumb-porredge, He wrestle? He rost eggs. Come lets be gon Lads. [_Exeunt 4._

_Arc._ This is an offer'd oportunity I durst not wish for. Well, I could have wrestled, The best men call'd it excellent, and run Swifter, than wind upon a feild of Corn (Curling the wealthy ears) never flew: I'll venture, And in some poor disguize be there, who knows Whether my brows may not be girt with garlands? And happiness prefer me to a place, Where I may ever dwell in sight of her. [_Exit Arcite._

_Scæena_ [4].

_Enter Jailors Daughter alone._

_Daugh._ Why should I love this Gentleman? 'Tis odds He never will affect me; [I am] base, My Father the mean Keeper of his Prison, And he a Prince; To marry him is hopeless; To be his whore, is witles; Out upon't; What pushes are we wenches driven to When fifteen once has found us? First I saw him, I (seeing) thought he was a goodly man; He has as much to please a woman in him, (If he please to bestow it so) as ever These eyes yet lookt on; Next, I pittied him, And so would any young wench o'my Conscience That ever dream'd, or vow'd her Maydenhead To a young hansom Man; Then I lov'd him, (Extremely lov'd him) infinitely lov'd him; And yet he had [a] Cosen, fair as he too. But in my heart was _Palamon_, and there Lord, what a coyl he keepes! To hear him Sing in an evening, what a Heaven it is! And yet his Songs are sad-ones; Fairer spoken, Was never Gentleman. When I come in To bring him water in a morning, first He bows his noble body, then salutes me, thus: Fair, gentle Mayd, good morrow, may thy goodness, Get thee a happy husband; Once he kist me, I lov'd my lips the better ten daies after, Would he would doe so ev'ry day; He greives much, And me as much to see his misery: What should I doe, to make him know I love him, For I would fain enjoy him? Say I ventur'd To set him free? What saies the Law then? Thus much For Law, or kindred: I will doe it, And this night, or to morrow he shall love me. [_Exit._

[_This short florish of Cornets and Showtes within._

_Scæna_ [5].

_Enter Theseus, Hippolita, Pirithous, Emilia: Arcite_ _with a Garland, &c._

_Thes._ You have done worthily; I have not seen Since _Hercules_, a man of tougher sinews; What ere you are, you run the best, and wrestle, That these times can allow.

_Arcite._ I'm proud to please you.

_Thes._ What Countrie bred you?

_Arcite._ This; But far off, Prince.

_Thes._ Are you a Gentleman?

_Arcite._ My father said so; And to those gentle uses gave me life.

_Thes._ Are you his heir?

_Arcite._ His youngest Sir.

_Thes._ Your Father Sure is a happy S[ir]e, then: What proves you?

_Arcite._ A little of all noble Qualities: I could have kept a Hawk, and well have hollow'd To a deep crie of Dogs; I dare not praise My feat in horsemanship: yet they that knew me Would say it was my best peece: last, and greatest, I would be thought a Soldier.

_Thes._ You are perfect.

_Pirith._ Upon my soul, a proper man.

_Emilia._ He is so.

_Per._ How doe you like him Ladie?

_Hip._ I admire him, I have not seen so young a man, so noble (If he say true,) of his sort.

_Emil._ Believe, His mother was a wondrous handsome woman, His face me thinks, goes that way.

_Hip._ But his Body And firie mind, illustrate a brave Father.

_Per._ Mark how his virtue, like a hidden Sun, Breaks through his baser garments.

_Hip._ He's well got sure.

_Thes._ What made you seek this place Sir?

_Arc._ Noble _Theseus_. To purchase name, and doe my ablest service To such a well-found wonder, as thy worth, For only in thy Court, of all the world Dwells fair-ey'd honor.

_Per._ All his words are worthy.

_Thes._ Sir, we are much endebted to your travell, Nor shall you loose your wish: _Perithous_ Dispose of this faire Gentleman.

_Perith._ Thanks _Theseus_. What ere you are y'are mine, and I shall give you To a most noble service, to this Lady, This bright young Virgin; Pray observe her goodness; You have honour'd her fair birth-day, with your virtues, And as your due y'are hers: kiss her fair hand Sir.

_Arc._ Sir, y'are a noble Giver: dearest Beautie, Thus let me seal my vow'd faith: when your Servant (Your most unworthie Creature) but offends you, Command him die, he shall.

_Emil._ That were too cruell. If you deserve well Sir; I shall soon see't: Y'are mine, and somewhat better than your ranck I'll use you.

_Per._ I'll see you furnish'd, and because you say You are a horseman, I must needs intreat you This after noon to ride, but 'tis a rough one.

_Arc._ I like him better (Prince) I shall not then Freeze in my Saddle.

_Thes._ Sweet, you must be readie, And you _Emilia_, and you (Friend) and all To morrow by the Sun, to doe observance To flowry May, in _Dian's_ wood: wait well Sir, Upon your Mistris: _Emely_, I hope He shall not goe a foot.

_Emil._ That were a shame Sir, While I have horses: take your choice, and what You want at any time, let me but know it; If you serve faithfully, I dare assure you You'll find a loving Mistris.

_Arc._ If I doe not, Let me find that my Father ever hated, Disgrace, and blows.

_Thes._ Go lead the way; You have won it: It shall be so; You shall receive all dues Fit for the honor you have won; 'Twere wrong else. Sister, beshrew my heart, you have a Servant, That if I were a woman, would be Master, But you are wise. [_Florish._

_Emil._ I hope too wise for that Sir. [_Exeunt omnes._

_Scæna_ 6.

_Enter Jaylors Daughter alone._

_Daughter._ Let all the Dukes, and all the divells rore, He is at liberty: I have ventur'd for him: And out I have brought him to a little wood A mile hence, I have sent him, where a Cedar, Higher than all the rest, spreads like a plane Fast by a Brook, and there he shall keep close, Till I provide him Fyles, and food; for yet His yron bracelets are not off. O Love What a stout hearted child thou art! My Father Durst better have indur'd cold iron, than done it: I love him beyond love, and beyond reason, Or wit, or safetie: I have made him know it I care not, I am desperate: If the Law Find me, and then condemne me for't; Some wenches, Some honest hearted Maids, will sing my Dirge. And tell to memory, my death was noble, Dying almost a Martyr: That way he takes, I purpose is my way too: Sure he cannot Be so unmanly, as to leave me here, If he doe, Maids will not so easily Trust men again: And yet he has not thank'd me For what I have done: no not so much as kist me, And that (me thinks) is not so well; Nor scarcely Could I persuade him to become a Freeman, He made such scruples of the wrong he did To me, and to my Father. Yet I hope When he considers more, this love of mine Will take more root within him: Let him doe What he will with me, so he use me kindly, For use me so he shall, or I'll proclaim him, And to his face, no man: I'll presently Provide him necessaries, and pack my cloaths up, And where there is a path of ground I'll venture So he be with me; By him, like a shadow I'll ever dwell; Within this hour the whoobub Will be all o'er the prison: [I am] then Kissing the man they look for: Farewell Father, Get many more such prisoners, and such daughters, And shortly you may keep your self. Now to him:

[_Cornets in sundry places. Noise and hollowing as people a Maying._

_Actus Tertius. Scæna Prima._

_Enter Arcite alone._

_Arcite._ The Duke has lost Hypolita; Each took A severall land. This is a solemn Right They owe bloom'd May, and the _Athenians_ pay it To 'th' heart of Ceremony: O Queen _Emilia_ Fresher than May, sweeter Then her gold Buttons on the bows, or all Th'enamell'd knacks o'th' Mead, or garden, ye[a] (We challenge too) the banck of any Nymph That makes the stream seem flowers; Thou o Jewell O'th wood, o'th world, hast likewise blest a pace With thy sole presence, in thy rumination That I poor man might eftsoones come betwen And chop on some cold thought, thrice blessed chance To drop on such a Mistris, expectation Most guiltless on't: tell me O Lady Fortune (Next after _Emely_ my Sovereign) how far I may be proud. She takes strong note of me, Hath made me near her; and this beauteous Morn (The prim'st of all the year) presents me with A brace of horses, two such Steeds might well Be by a pair of Kings backt, in a Field That their crowns titles tried: Alas, alas Poor Cosen _Palamon_, poor prisoner, thou So little dream'st upon my fortune, that Thou thinkst thy self, the happier thing, to be So near _Emilia_, me thou deem'st at _Thebs_, And therein wretched, although free; But if Thou knew'st my Mistris breath'd on me, and that I ear'd her language, liv'd in her eye; O Coz What passion would enclose thee.

_Enter Palamon as out of a Bush, with his Shackles:_ _bends his fist at Arcite._

_Palamon._ Traytor kinsman, Thou shouldst perceive my passion, if these signs Of prisonment were off me, and this hand But owner of a Sword: By all oaths in one I, and the justice of my love would make thee A confest Traytor: O thou most perfidious That ever gently look'd the voydes of honor. That ev'r bore gentle Token; falsest Cosen That ever blood made kin, call'st thou her thine? I'll prove it in my Shackles, with these hands, Void of appointment, that thou ly'st, and art A very theef in love, a Chaffy Lord Nor worth the name of villain: had I a Sword And these house cloggs away.

_Arc._ Dear Cosin _Palamon_.

_Pal._ Cosoner _Arcite_, give me language, such As thou hast shew'd me feat.

_Arc._ Not finding in The circuit of my breast, any gross stuff To form me like your blazon, holds me to This gentleness of answer; 'tis your passion That thus mistakes, the which to you being enemy, Cannot to me be kind: honor, and honestie I cherish, and depend on, how so ev'r You skip them in me, and with them fair Coz I'll maintain my proceedings; pray be pleas'd To shew in generous terms, your griefs, since that Your question's with your equall, who professes To clear his own way, with the mind and Sword Of a true Gentleman.

_Pal._ That tho[u] durst _Arcite_.

_Arc._ My Coz, my Coz, you have been well advertis'd How much I dare, y'ave seen me use my Sword Against th' advice of fear: sure of another You would not hear me doubted, but your silence Should break out, though i'th' Sanctuary.

_Pal._ Sir, I have seen you move in such a place, which well Might justifie your manhood, you were call'd A good knight and a bold; But the whole week's not fair If any day it rayn: Their valiant temper Men loose when they encline to trecherie, And then they fight like coupel'd Beeres, would fly Were they not ty'd.

_Arc._ Kinsman, you might as well Speak this, and act it in your Glass, as to His ear, which now disdains you.

_Pal._ Come up to me, Quit me of these cold Gyves, give me a Sword Though it be rustie, and the charity Of one meal lend me; Come before me then, A good Sword in thy hand, and doe but say That _Emily_ is thine, I will forgive The trespass thou hast done [me, yea] my life If then thou carry't, and brave souls in shades That have di'd manly, which will seek of me Some news from earth, they shall get none but this, That thou art brave, and noble.

_Arc._ Be content, Again betake you to your hawthorn house, With counsel of the night, I will be here With wholesome viands; these impediments Will I file off, you shall have garments, and Perfumes to kill the smell o'th' prison, after When you shall stretch your self, and say but _Arcite_ [I am] in plight, there shall be at your choice Both Sword, and Armor.

_Pal._ Oh you heavens, dare any So noble bear a guilty business! none But only _Arcite_, therefore none but _Arcite_ In this kind is so bold.

_Arc._ Sweet _Palamon_.

_Pal._ I doe embrace you, and your offer, for Your offer do't I only, Sir your person Without hypocrisy I may not wish [_Wind horns of Cornets._ More than my Swords edge ont.

_Arc._ You hear the Horns; Enter your Musick least this match between's Be crost e'r met, give me your hand, farewell. I'll bring you every needfull thing: I pray you Take comfort and be strong.

_Pal._ Pray hold your promise; And doe the deed with a bent brow, most certain You love me not, be rough with me, and pour This oil o[u]t of your language; by this ayr I could for each word, give a Cuff: my stomach Not reconcil'd by reason.

_Arc._ Plainly spoken, Yet pardon me hard language, when I spur [_Wind horns._ My horse, I chide him not; content, and anger In me have but one face. Hark Sir, they call The scatter'd to the Banket; you must guess I have an office there.

_Pal._ Sir your attendance Cannot please heaven, and I know your office Unjustly is atcheiv'd.

_Arc._ If a good title, I'm persuaded this question sick between's, By bleeding must be cur'd. I'm a Suitor, That to your Sword you will bequeath this plea, And talk of it no more.

_Pal._ But this one word: You are going now to gaze upon my Mistris, For note you, mine she is.

_Arc._ Nay then.

_Pal._ Nay pray you, You talk of feeding me to breed me strength You are going now to look upon a Sun That strengthens what it looks on, there You have a vantage o'er me, but enjoy't till I may enforce my remedy. Farewell. [_Exeunt._

_Scæna Secunda._

_Enter Jaylors daughter alone._

_Daugh._ He has mistook; the Beak I meant, is gone After his fancy, 'Tis now welnigh morning, No matter, would it were perpetuall night, And darkness Lord o'th' world, Hark 'tis a wolf: In me hath grief slain fear, and but for one thing I care for nothing, and that's _Palamon_. I wreak not if the wolves would jaw me, so He had this Fi[l]e; what if I hollow'd for him? I cannot hollow: if I whoop'd; what then? If he not answer'd, I should call a wolf, And doe him but that service. I have heard Strange howls this live-long night, why may't not be They have made prey of him? he has no weapons, He cannot run, the Jengling of his Gives Might call fell things to listen, who have in them A sence to know a man unarm'd, and can Smell where resistance is. I'll set it down He's torn to peeces, they howl'd many together And then they fed on him: So much for that, Be bold to ring the Bell; How stand I then? All's char'd when he is gone, No, no I lye, My Father's to be hang'd for his escape, My self to beg, if I priz'd life so much As to deny my act, but that I would not, Should I try death by dussons: I am mop't, Food took I non[e] these two daies. Sipt some water, I have not clos'd mine eyes Save when my lids scowrd off their bine; alas Dissolve my life, Let not my sence unsettle Least I should drown, or stab or hang my self. O state of Nature, fail together in me, Since thy best props are warpt: So which way now? The best way is, the next way to a grave: Each errant step beside is torment. Loe The Moon is down, the Cr'ckets chirpe, the Schreich-owl Calls in the dawn; all offices are done Save what I fail in: But the point is this An end, and that is all. [_Exit._

_Scæna Tertia._

_Enter Arcite, with Meat, Wine, and Files._

_Arc._ I should be near the place, hoa. Cosen _Palamon_.

_Enter Palamon._

_Pal. Arcite?_

_Arc._ The same: I have brought you food and files, Come forth and fear not, here's no _Theseus_.

_Pal._ Nor none so honest _Arcite_.

_Arc._ That's no matter, We'll argue that hereafter: Come take courage, You shall not dye thus beastly, here Sir drink: I know you're faint, then I'll talk further with you.

_Pal. Arcite_, thou mightst now poyson me.

_Arc._ I might. But I must fear you first: Sit down, and good now No more of these vain parlies; let us not Having our ancient reputation with us Make talk for Fools, and Cowards, To your health. &c.

_Pal._ Doe.

_Arc._ Pray sit dow[n] then, and let me entreat you By all the honesty and honor in you, No mention of this woman, 't will disturb us, We shall have time enough.

_Pal._ Well Sir, I'll pledge you.

_Arc._ Drinke a good hearty draught, it breeds good blood man. Doe not you feel it thaw you?

_Pal._ Stay, I'll tell you after a draught or two more.

_Arc._ Spare it not, the Duke has more Cuz: Eat now.

_Pal._ Yes.

_Arc._ [I am] glad you have so good a stomach.

_Pal._ [I am] gladder I have so good meat to't.

_Arc._ Is't not mad lodging here in the wild woods Cosen?

_Pal._ Yes, for them that have wild Consciences.

_Arc._ How tasts your victuals? your hunger needs no sawce I see.

_Pal._ Not much. But if it did, yours is too tart: sweet Cosen: what is this?

_Arc._ Venison.

_Pal._ 'Tis a lusty meat: Give me more wine; here _Arcite_ to the wenches We have known in our daies. The Lord Stewards daughter. Doe you remember her?

_Arc._ After you Cuz.

_Pal._ She lov'd a black-hair'd man.

_Arc._ She did so; well Sir.

_Pal._ And I have heard some call him _Arcite_; an.

_Arc._ Out with't faith.

_Pal._ She met him in an Arbor: What did she there Cuz? play o'the virginals?

_Arc._ Something she did Sir.

_Pal._ Made her groan a Month for't; or 2. or 3. or 10.

_Arc._ The Marshals Sister, Had her share too, as I remember Cosen, Else there be tales abroad, you'll pledge her?

_Pal._ Yes.

_Arc._ A pretty brown wench 'tis: There was a time When young men went a hunting, and a wood, And a broad beech: and thereby hangs a tale: heigh ho.

_Pal._ For _Emily_, upon my life, fool A way with this strain'd mirth; I say again That sigh was breath'd for _Emily_; base Cosen, Dar'st thou break first?

_Arc._ You are wide.

_Pal._ By heaven and earth, there's nothing in thee honest.

_Arc._ Then I'll leave you: you are a Beast now:

_Pal._ As thou mak'st me, Traytor.

_Arc._ There's all things needfull, files and shirts, and perfumes. I'll come again some two hours hence, and bring That that shall quiet all.

_Pal._ A Sword and Armor.

_Arc._ Fear me not; you are now too fowl; farewell. Get off your Trinkets, you shall want nought.

_Pal._ Sir ha:

_Arc._ I'll here no more. [_Exit._

_Pal._ If he keep touch, he dies for't. [_Exit._

_Scæna Quarta._

_Enter Jaylors daughter._

_Daugh._ I am very cold, and all the Stars are out too, The little Stars, and all, that look like aglets: The Sun has seen my Folly: _Palamon_; Alas no; he's in heaven; where am I now? Yonder's the sea, and there's a Ship; how't tumbles And there's a Rock lies watching under water; Now, now, it beats upon it; now, now, now, There's a leak sprung, a sound one, how they cry! Upon her before the wind, you'll loose all els: Up with a course or two, and tack about Boys. Good night, good night, y'are gone; I'm very hungry, Would I could find a fine Frog; he would tell me News from all parts o'th' world, then would I make A Careck of a Cockle-shell, and sayll By East and North East to the King of _Pigmies_, For he tels fortunes rarely. Now my Father Twenty to one is trust up in a trice To morrow morning, I'll say never a word.

_Sing._

_For I'll cut my green coat, afoot above my knee,_ _And I'll clip my yellow locks; an inch below mine eie._ _hey, nonny, nonny, nonny._

_He's buy me a whit Cut, forth for to ride_ _And I'll goe seek him, throw the world that is so wide._ _hey nonny, nonny, nonny._

O for a prick now like a Nightingale, to put my brest Against. I shall sleep like a Top else. [_Exit._

_Scæna_ [5].

_Enter a Schoolmaster 4. Countrymen: and Baum._ _2. or 3., with a Taborer._

_Sch._ Fy, fy, what tediosity, & disensanity is here among ye? have my Rudiments bin labour'd so long with ye? milk'd unto ye, and, by a figure, even the very plumbroth & marrow of my understanding laid upon ye? and do you still cry where, and how, & wherefore? you most course freeze capacities, ye jave Judgements, have I said thus let be, and there let be, and then let be, and no man understand me, _prob deum, medius fidius_, ye are all dunces: For why here stand I. Here the Duke comes, there are you close in the Thicket; the Duke appears, I meet him, and unto him I utter learned things, and many figures, he hears, and nods, and hums, and then cries rare, and I goe forward, at length I fling my Cap up; mark there; then do you as once did _Meleager_, and the _Bore_ break comely out before him: like true lovers, cast your selves in a Body decently, and sweetly, by a figure trace, and turn Boys.

_1._ And sweetly we will doe it Master _Gerrold_.

_2._ Draw up the Company, Where's the Taboror?

_3._ Why _Timothy_?

_Tab._ Here my mad boys, have at ye.

_Sch._ But I say where's their wom[e]n?

_4._ Here's _Friz_ and _Maudline_.

_2._ And little _Luce_, with the white legs, and bouncing _Barbary_.

_1._ And freckled _Nel_; that never fail'd her Master.

_Sch._ Where be your Ribands maids? swym with your Bodies And carry it sweetly, and deliverly And now and then a favor, and a friske.

_Nel._ Let us alone Sir.

_Sch._ Where's the rest o'th' Musick.

_3._ Dispers'd as you commanded.

_Sch._ Couple then And see what's wanting; where's the _Bavian_? My friend, carry your tail without offence Or scandall to the Ladies; and be sure You tumble with audacity, and manhood, And when you bark doe it with judgement.

_Bau._ Yes Sir.

_Sch. Quo usque tandem?_ Here is a woman wanting.

_4._ We may goe whistle: all the fat's i'th' fire.

_Sch._ We have, As learned Authors utter, wash'd a Tile, We have been _fatuus_, and labour'd vainly.

_2._ This is that scornfull peece, that scurvy hilding That gave her promise faithfully, she would be here, _Cicely_ the Sempsters daughter: The next gloves that I give her shall be dogs-skin; Nay and she fail me once, you can tell _Arcas_, She swore by wine, and bread, she would not break.

_Sch._ An E[e]l and woman, A learned Poet sayes: unles by'th' tail And with thy teeth thou hold, will either fail, In manners this was false position.

_1._ A fire ill take her; do's she flinch now?

_3._ What Shall we determine Sir?

_Sch._ Nothing, Our business is become a nullity Yea, and a woefull, and a pittious nullity.

_4._ Now when the credit of our Town lay on it, Now to be frampall, now to piss o'th' nettle, Goe thy ways, I'll remember thee, I'll fit thee.

_Enter Jaylor's daughter._

Daughter,

_The George alow, came from the South, from_ _The coast of Barbary a._ _And there he met with brave gallants of war_ _By one, by two, by three, a._ _Well hail'd, well hail'd, you jolly gallants,_

[Chair and stools out.

_And whither now are you bound a?_ _O let me have your company till come to the sound a._ _There was three fools, fell out about an howlet:_ _The one sed it was an owl_ _The other he sed nay,_ _The third he sed it was a hawk, and her bels were cut away._

_3._ There's a dainty mad woman Mr. comes i'th' Nick, as mad as a march Hare; If we can get her dance, we are made again: I warrant her, she'll do the rarest gambols.

_1._ A mad woman? we are made Boys.

_Sch._ And are you mad good woman?

_Daugh._ I would be sorry else, Give me your hand.

_Sch._ Why?

_Daugh._ I can tell your fortune. You are a fool: tell ten, I have poz'd him: Buz Friend you must eat no white bread, if you do Your teeth will bleed extremely, shall we dance ho? I know you, y'are a Tinker: Sir, ha Tinker Stop no more holes, but what you should.

_Sch. Dii boni._ A Tinker Damzell?

_Daug._ Or a Conjurer: raise me a devill now; and let him play. _Quipassa_, o'th' bels and bones.

_Sch._ Go take her, and fluently persuade her to a peace: _Et opus exegi, quod nec Jovis ira, nec ignis._ Strike up, and lead her in.

_2._ Come Lass, lets trip it.

_Daugh._ I'll lead. [_Wind Horns._

_3._ Doe, doe.

_Sch._ Persuasively, and cunningly: away boys,

[_Ex. all but Schoolemaster._

I hear the horns: give me some Meditation, and mark your Cue; _Pallas_ inspire me.

_Enter Thes. Pir. Hip. Emil. Arcite: and train._

_Thes._ This way the Stag took.

_Sch._ Stay, and edifie.

_Thes._ What have we here?

_Per._ Some Countrey sport, upon my life Sir.

_Thes._ Well Sir, goe forward, we will edifie. Ladies sit down, we'll stay it.

_Sch._ Thou doughtie Duke all hail: all hail sweet Ladies.

_Thes._ This is a cold beginning.

_Sch._ If you but favor; our Country pastime made is, We are a few of those collected here That ruder Tongues distinguish villager, And to say veritie, and not to fable; We are a merry rout, or else a rable Or company, or by a figure, _Chorus_ That for thy dignitie will dance a Morris. And I that am the rectifier of all By title Pedagogus, that let fall The Birch upon the breeches of the small ones, And humble with a Ferula the tall ones, Doe here present this Machine, or this frame And daintie Duke, whose doughtie dismall fame From _Dis_ to _Dedalus_, from post to pillar Is blown abroad; help me thy poor well willer, And with thy twinckling eyes, look right and straight Upon this mighty Morr--of mickle waight Is--now comes in, which being glew'd together Makes Morris, and the cause that we came hither The body of our sport of no small study I first appear, though rude, and raw, and muddy, To speak before thy noble grace, this tenner: At whose great feet I offer up my penner. The next the Lord of May, and Lady bright, The Chambermaid, and Servingman by night That seek out silent hanging: Then mine Host And his fat Spouse, that welcomes to their cost The gauled Traveller, and with a beck'ning Informes the Tapster to inflame the reck'ning: Then the beast eating Clown, and next the fool, The _Bavian_, with long tail, and eke long tool _Cum multis aliis_, that make a dance, Say I, and all shall presently advance.

_Thes._ I, I by any means, dear _Domine_.

_Per._ Produce. [_Musick Dance._ _Intrate filii_, Come forth, and foot it. Knock for Schoolm. Enter The Dance.

_Ladies, if we have been merry_ _And have pleas'd thee with a derry,_ _And a derry, and a down_ _Say the Schoolmaster's no Clown._ _Duke, if we have pleas'd thee too_ _And have done as good Boys should doe_ _Give us but a tree or twaine_ _For a Maypole, and again_ _Ere another year run out_ _We'll make thee laugh and all this rout._

_Thes._ Take 20. _Domine_; how does my sweet heart?

_Hip._ Never so pleas'd Sir.

_Emil._ 'Twas an excellent dance, and for a preface I never heard a better.

_Thes._ Schoolmaster, I thank you, One see'em all rewarded.

_Per._ And heer's something to paint your Pole withall.

_Thes._ Now to our sports again.

_Sch._ May the Stag thou huntst stand long, And thy dogs be swift and strong: May they kill him without lets, And the Ladies eat his dowsets: Come we are all made. [_Wind Horns._

_Dii Deæq_; _Omnes_, ye have danc'd rarely wenches. [_Exeunt._

_Scæna_ [6].

_Enter Palamon from the Bush._

_Pal._ About this hour my Cosen gave his faith To visit me again, and with him bring Two Swords, and two good Armors; If he fail He's neither man, nor Soldier; When he left me I did not think a week could have restor'd My lost strength to me, I was grown so low, And Crest-fal'n with my wants: I thank thee _Arcite_, Thou art yet a fair Foe; And I feel my self With this refreshing, able once again To out-dure danger: To delay it longer Would make the world think when it comes to hearing, That I lay fatting like a Swine, to fight And not a Soldier: Therefore this blest morning Shall be the last; And that Sword he refuses, If it but hold, I kill him with; 'tis Justice: So love, and Fortune for me: O good morrow.

_Enter Arcite with Armors and Swords._

_Arc._ Good morrow noble kinsman.

_Pal._ I have put you To too much pains Sir.

_Arc._ That too much fair Cosen, Is but a debt to honor, and my duty.

_Pal._ Would you were so in all Sir; I could wish ye As kind a kinsman, as you force me find A beneficiall foe, that my embraces Might thank ye, not my blows.

_Arc._ I shall think either Well done, a noble recompence.

_Pal._ Then I shall quit you.

_Arc._ Defy me in these fair terms, and you show More than a Mistris to me, no more anger As you love any thing that's honorable: We were not bred to talk man, when we are arm'd And both upon our guards, then let our fury Like meeting of two tides, fly strongly from us, And then to whom the birthright of this Beauty Truely pertains (without obbraidings, scorns, Dispisings of our persons, and such powtings Fitter for Girles and Schooleboyes) will be seen And quickly, yours, or mine: Wilt please you arme Sir? Or if you feel your self not fitting yet And furnish'd with your old strength, I'll stay Cosen And ev'ry day discourse you into health, As I'm spar'd, your person I 'm friends with And I could wish I had not said I lov'd her Though I had [dide]; But loving such a Lady And justifying my Love, I must not fly from't.

_Pal. Arcite_, thou art so brave an enemy That no man but thy Cosen's fit to kill thee, I'm well, and lusty, choose your Armes.

_Arc._ Choose you Sir.

_Pal._ Wilt thou exceed in all, or do'st thou doe it To make me spare thee?

_Arc._ If you think so Cosen, You are deceiv'd, for as I 'm a Soldier, I will not spare you.

_Pal._ That's well said.

_Arc._ You'll find it.

_Pal._ Then as [I am] an honest man and love, With all the justice of affection I'll pay thee soundly: This I'll take.

_Arc._ That's mine then, I'll arme you first.

_Pal._ Do: Pray thee tell me Cosen, Where gotst thou this good Armor?

_Arc._ 'Tis the Dukes, And to say true, I stole it, doe I pinch you?

_Pal._ No.

_Arc._ Is't not too heavie?

_Pal._ I have worn a lighter, But I shall make it serve.

_Arc._ I'll buckl't close.

_Pal._ By any means.

_Arc._ You care not for a Grand guard?

_Pal._ No, no, we'll use no horses, I perceive You would fain be at that Fight.

_Arc._ I'm indifferent.

_Pal._ Faith so am I: Good Cosen, thrust the buckle Through far enough.

_Arc._ I warrant you.

_Pal._ My Cask now.

_Arc._ Will you fight bare-arm'd?

_Pal._ We shall be the nimbler.

_Arc._ But use your Gantlets though; those are o'th' least, Prethee take mine good Cosen.

_Pal._ Thank you _Arcite_. How doe I look, am I falen much away?

_Arc._ Faith very little; Love has us'd you kindly.

_Pal._ I'll warrant thee, I'll strike home.

_Arc._ Doe, and spare not; I'll give you cause sweet Cosen.

_Pal._ Now to you Sir, Me thinks this Armor's very like that, _Arcite_, Thou wor'st that day the 3. Kings fell, but lighter.

_Arc._ That was a very good one, and that day I well remember, you out-did me Cosen, I never saw such valour: When you charg'd Upon the left wing of the Enemie, I spur'd hard to come up, and under me I had a right good horse.

_Pal._ You had indeed A bright Bay I remember.

_Arc._ Yes but all Was vainly labour'd in me, you out-went me, Nor could my wishes reach you; Yet a little I did by imitation.

_Pal._ More by virtue, Yo[u] are modest Cosen.

_Arc._ When I saw you charge first, Me thought I heard a dreadfull clap of Thunder Break from the Troop.

_Pal._ But still before that flew The lightning of your valour: Stay a litt[l]e, Is not this peece too streight?

_Arc._ No, no, 'tis well.

_Pal._ I would have nothing hurt thee but my Sword, A bruise would be dishonor.

_Arc._ Now I'm perfect.

_Pal._ Stand off then.

_Arc._ Take my Sword, I hold it better.

_Pal._ I thank ye: No, keep it, your life lyes on it, Here's one, if it but hold, I aske no more, For all my hopes: My Cause and honor guard me.

[_They bow severall wayes: then advance and stand._

_Arc._ And me my love: Is there ought else to say?

_Pal._ This only, and no more: Thou art mine Aunts Son. And that blood we desire to shed is mutuall. In me, thine, and in thee, mine: My Sword Is in my hand, and if thou killst me The gods, and I forgive thee; If there be A place prepar'd for those that sleep in honor, I wish his wearie soul, that falls may win it: Fight bravely Cosen, give me thy noble hand.

_Arc._ Here _Palamon_: This hand shall never more Come near thee with such friendship.

_Pal._ I commend thee.

_Arc._ If I fall, curse me, and say I was a coward, For none but such, dare die in these just Tryalls. Once more farewell my Cosen.

_Pal._ Farewell _Arcite_. [_Fight._ [_Horns within: they stand._

_Arc._ Loe Cosen, loe, our Folly has undone us.

_Pal._ Why?

_Arc._ This is the Duke, a hunting as I told you, If we be found, we're wretched, O retire For honors sake, and safely presently Into your Bush agen; Sir we shall find Too many hours to dye in, gentle Cosen: If you be seen you perish instantly For breaking prison, and I, if you reveal me, For my contempt; Then all the world will scorn us, And say we had a noble difference, But base disposers of it.

_Pal._ No, no, Cosen I will no more be hidden, nor put off This great adventure to a second Tryall I know your cunning, and I know your cause, He that faints now, shame take him, put thy self Upon thy present guard.

_Arc._ You are not mad?

_Pal._ Or I will make th'advantage of this hour Mine own, and what to come shall threaten me, I fear less then my fortune: Know weak Cosen I love _Emilia_, and in that I'll bury Thee, and all crosses else.

_Arc._ Then come, what can come Thou shalt know _Palamon_, I dare as well Die, as discourse, or sleep: Only this fears me, The law will have the honor of our ends, Have at thy life.

_Pal._ Look to thine own well _Arcite_. [_Fight again. Horns._

_Enter Theseus, Hippolita, Emilia, Perithous and train._

_Theseus._ What ignorant and mad malicious Traitors, Are you? That 'gainst the tenor of my Laws Are making Battail, thus like Knights appointed, Without my leave, and Officers of Armes? By _Castor_ both shall dye.

_Pal._ Hold thy word _Theseus_, We are certainly both Traitors, both despisers Of thee, and of thy goodness: I'm _Palamon_ That cannot love thee, he that broke thy Prison, Think well, what that deserves; And this is _Arcite_ A bolder Traytor never trod thy ground, A Falser never seem'd friend: This is the man Was beg'd and banish'd, this is he contemnes thee And what thou dar'st doe; and in this disguise Against this own Edict follows thy Sister, That fortunate bright Star, the fair _Emilia_ Whose servant, (if there be a right in seeing, And first bequeathing of the soul to) justly [I am], and which is more, dares think her his. This treacherie like a most trusty Lover, I call'd him now to answer; If thou be'st As thou art spoken, great and virtuous, The true decider of all injuries, Say, Fight again, and thou shalt see me _Theseus_ Doe such a Justice, thou thy self wilt envie Then take my life, I'll wooe thee to't.

_Per._ O Heaven, What more than man is this!

_Thes._ I have sworn.

_Arc._ We seek not Thy breath of mercy _Theseus_, 'Tis to me A thing as soon to dye, as thee to say it, And no more mov'd: where this man calls me Traitor, Let me say thus much; If in love be Treason, In service of so excellent a Beautie, As I love most, and in that faith will perish, As I have brought my life here to confirme it, As I have serv'd her truest, worthiest, As I dare kill this Cosen, that denies it, So let me be most Traitor, and ye please me: For scorning thy Edict Duke, aske that Lady Why she is fair, and why her eyes command me Stay here to love her. And if she say Traytor, I'm a villain fit to lye unburied.

_Pal._ Thou shalt have pity of us both, O _Theseus_, If unto neither thou shew mercy, stop (As thou art just) thy noble ear against us, As thou art valiant; For thy Cosens soul Whose 12. strong labors crown his memory, Let's die together, at one instant, Duke, Only a little let him fall before me, That I may tell my Soul he shall not have her.

_Thes._ I grant your wish, for to say true, your Cosen Has ten times more offended, for I gave him More mercy than you found, Sir, your offences Being no more than his: None here speak for 'em For ere the Sun set, both shall sleep for ever.

_Hippol._ Alas the pity, now or never Sister Speak not to be denied; That face of yours Will bear the curses else of after ages For these lost Cosens.

_Emil._ In my face dear Sister I find no anger to'em; Nor no ruin, The misadventure of their own eyes kill'em; Yet that I will be woman, and have pitty, My knees shall grow to'th' ground but I'll get mercie. Help me dear Sister, in a deed so virtuous, The powers of all women will be with us, Most royall Brother.

_Hippol._ Sir by our tye of Marriage.

_Emil._ By your own spotless honor.

_Hip._ By that faith, That fair hand, and that honest heart you gave me.

_Emil._ By that you would have pitty in another, By your own virtues infinite.

_Hip._ By valor, By all the chast nights I have ever pleas'd you.

_Thes._ These are strange Conjurings.

_Per._ Nay then I'll in too: By all our friendship Sir, by all our dangers, By all you love most, wars; And this sweet Lady.

_Emil._ By that you would have trembled to deny A blushing Maid.

_Hip._ By your own eyes: By strength In which you swore I went beyond all women, Almost all men, and yet I yielded _Theseus_.

_Per._ To crown all this; By your most noble soul Which cannot want due mercie, I beg first.

_Hip._ Next hear my prayers.

_Emil._ Last let me intreat Sir.

_Per._ For mercy.

_Hip._ Mercy.

_Emil._ Mercy on these Princes.

_Thes._ Ye make my faith reel: Say I felt Compassion to'em both, how would you place it?

_Emil._ Upon their lives: But with their banishments.

_Thes._ You are a right woman, Sister; You have pitty, But want the understanding where to use it. If you desire their lives, invent a way Safer than banishment: Can these two live And have the agony of love about 'em, And not kill one another? Every day They'ld fight about you; Hourly bring your honor In publique question with their Swords; Be wise then And here forget 'em; It concerns your credit, And my [oth] equally: I have said they die, Better they fall byth' Law, than one another. Bow not my honor.

_Emil._ O my noble Brother, That [oth] was rashly made, and in yo[u]r anger, Your reason will not hold it, if such vows Stand for express will, all the world must perish. Beside, I have another oath, gainst yours Of more authority, I'm sure more love, Not made in passion neither, but good heed.

_Thes._ What is it Sister?

_Per._ Urge it home brave Lady.

_Emil._ That you would never deny me any thing Fit for my modest suit, and your free granting: I tye you to your word now, if ye fall in't, Think how you maim your honor; (For now I'm set a begging Sir, I'm deaf To all but your compassion) how, their lives Might breed the ruin of my name; Opinion, Shall any thing that loves me perish for me? That were a cruell wisdom, doe men proyn The straight young Bows that blush with thousand Blossoms Because they may be rotten? O Duke _Theseus_ The goodly Mothers that have groan'd for these, And all the longing Maids that ever lov'd, If your vow stand, shall curse me and my Beauty, And in their funerall songs, for these two Cosens Despise my crueltie, and cry woe worth me, Till I'm nothing but the scorn of women; For Heavens sake save their lives, and banish 'em.

_Thes._ On what conditions?

_Emil._ Swear'em never more To make me their Contention, or to know me, To tread upon the Dukedome, and to be Where ever they shall travel, ever strangers to one another.

_Pal._ I'll be cut a peeces Before I take this oath, forget I love her? O all ye gods dispise me then: Thy Banishment I not mislike, so we may fairly carry Our Swords, and cause along: Else never trifle, But take our lives Duke, I must love and will, And for that love, must and dare kill this Cosen On any peece the earth has.

_Thes._ Will you _Arcite_ Take these conditions?

_Pal._ He's a villain then.

_Per._ These are men.

_Arcite._ No, never Duke: 'Tis worse to me than begging To take my life so basely, though I think I never shall enjoy her, yet I'll preserve The honor of affection, and dye for her, Make death a Devill.

_Thes._ What may be done? For now I feel compassion.

_Per._ Let it not fall again Sir.

_Thes._ Say _Emilia_ If one of them were dead, as one must, are you Content to take th'other to your husband? They cannot both enjoy you; They are Princes As goodly as your own eyes, and as noble As ever fame yet spoke of: Look upon'em, And if you can love, end this difference, I give consent, are you content too, Princes?

_Both._ With all our souls.

_Thes._ He that she refuses Must dye then.

_Both._ Any death thou canst invent Duke.

_Pal._ If I fall from that mouth, I fall with favor. And Lovers yet unborn shall bless my ashes.

_Arc._ If she refuse me, yet my grave will wed me, And Soldiers sing my Epitaph.

_Thes._ Make choice then.

_Emil._ I cannot Sir, they are both too excellent For me, a hayr shall never fall of these men.

_Hip._ What will become of 'em?

_Thes._ Thus I ordain it, And by mine honor, once again it stands, Or both shall dye. You shall both to your Countrey, And each within this month accompanied With three fair Knights, appear again in this place, In which I'll plant a Pyramid; And whether Before us that are here, can force his Cosen By fair and knightly strength to touch the Pillar, He shall enjoy her: The other loose his head, And all his friends: Nor shall he grudge to fall, Nor think he dies with interest in this Lady: Will this content ye?

_Pal._ Yes: Here Cosen _Arcite_ I'm friends again, till that hour.

_Arc._ I embrace ye.

_Thes._ Are you content Sister?

_Emil._ Yes, I must Sir, [Els] both miscarry.

_Thes._ Come shake hands again then, And take heed, as you are Gentlemen, this Quarrell Sleep till the hour p[re]fixt, and hold your course.

_Pal._ We dare not fail thee _Theseus_.

_T[h]es._ Come, I'll give ye Now usage like to Princes, and to Friends: When ye return, who wins, I'll settle here, Who loses, yet I'll weep upon his Beer. [_Exeunt._

_Actus Quartus. Scæna Prima._

_Enter Jailor and his Friend._

_Jail._ Hear you no more? was nothing said of me Concerning the escape of _Palamon_? Good Sir remember.

_1 Fr._ Nothing that I heard, For I came home before the business Was fully ended: yet I might perceive E'r I departed, a great likelyhood Of both their pardons: for _Hippolita_, And fair-ey'd _Emilia_, upon their knees, Begg'd with such handsome pitty, that the Duke Methought stood staggering whether he should follow His rash oath, or the sweet compassion Of those two Ladies; and to second them, That truly noble Prince _Perithous_ Half his own heart, set in too, that I hope All shall be well: neither heard I one question Of your name, or his scape.

_Enter 2 Friends._

_Jail._ Pray Heaven it hold so.

_2 Fr._ Be of good comfort man; I bring you news Good news.

_Jail._ They are welcome.

_2 Fr. Palamon_ has clear'd you, And got your pardon, and discover'd How, and by whose means he scap'd, which was your Daughter's, Whose pardon is procured too, and the prisoner Not to be held ungrateful to her goodness, Has given a sum of money to her Marriage, A large one I'll assure you.

_Jail._ Ye are a good man And ever bring good news.

_1 Fr._ How was it ended?

_2 Fr._ Why, as it should be; they that ne'er begg'd But they prevail'd, had their suits fairly granted. The prisoners have their lives.

_1 Fr._ I knew 'twould be so.

_2 Fr._ But there be new conditions, which you'll hear of At better time.

_Jail._ I hope they are good.

_2 Fr._ They are honourable, How good they'll prove, I know not.

_Enter Wooer._

_1 Fr._ 'Twill be known.

_Woo._ Alas Sir, where's your Daughter?

_Jail._ Why do you ask?

_Woo._ Oh Sir, when did you see her?

_2 Fr._ How he looks!

_Jail._ This morning.

_Woo._ Was she well? was she in health Sir? when did she sleep?

_1 Fr._ These are strange questions.

_Jail._ I do not think she was very well, for now You make me mind her, but this very day I ask'd her questions, and she answer'd me So far from what she was, so childishly, So sillily, as if she were a fool, An Innocent, and I was very angry. But what of her Sir?

_Woo._ Nothing but my pity, but you must know it, and as good by me As by another that less loves her:

_Jail._ Well Sir.

_1 Fr._ Not right?

_2 Fr._ Not well?--

[_Woo._] No Sir, not well. 'Tis too true, she is mad.

_1 Fr._ It cannot be.

_Woo._ Believe, you'll find it so.

_Jay._ I half suspected What you told me: the gods comfort her: Either this was her love to _Palamon_, Or fear of my miscarrying on his scape, Or both.

_Woo._ 'Tis likely.

_Jay._ But why all this haste, Sir?

_Woo._ I'll tell you quickly. As I late was angling In the great Lake that lies behind the Palace, From the far shore, thick set with Reeds and Sedges. As patiently I was attending sport, I heard a voice, a shrill one, and attentive I gave my ear, when I might well perceive 'Twas one that sung, and by the smallness of it A Boy or Woman. I then left my angle To his own skill, came near, but yet perceiv'd not Who made the sound; the Rushes, and the Reeds Had so encompast it: I laid me down And listned to the words she sung, for then Through a small glade cut by the Fisher-men, I saw it was your Daughter.

_Jail._ Pray goe on Sir?

_Woo._ She sung much, but no sence; only I heard her Repeat this often. _Palamon_ is gone, Is gone to th' wood to gather Mulberries, I'll find him out to morrow.

_1 Fr._ Pretty soul.

_Woo._ His shackles will betray him, he'll be taken, And what shall I do then? I'll bring a beavy, A hundred black-ey'd Maids that love as I do With Chaplets on their heads [of] Daffadillies, With cherry lips, and cheeks of Damask Roses, And all we'll dance an Antique 'fore the Duke, And beg his pardon; then she talk'd of you, Sir; That you must lose your head to morrow morning And she must gather Flowers to bury you, And see the house made handsome, then she sung Nothing but willow, willow, willow, and between Ever was, _Palamon_, fair _Palamon_, And _Palamon_, was a tall young man. The place Was knee deep where she sate; her careless Tresses, A wrea[th] of Bull-rush rounded; about her stuck Thousand fresh Water Flowers of several colours. That methought she appear'd like the fair Nymph That feeds the lake with waters, or as _Iris_ Newly dropt down from heaven; Rings she made Of Rushes that grew by, and to 'em spoke The prettiest posies: thus our true love's ty'd, This you may loose, not me, and many a one: And then she wept, and sung again, and sigh'd, And with the same breath smil'd, and kist her hand.

_2 Fr._ Alas what pity it is?

_Woo._ I made in to her, She saw me, and straight sought the flood, I sav'd her, And set her safe to land: when presently She slipt away, and to the City made, With such a cry, and swiftness, that believe me She left me far behind her; three, or four, I saw from far off cross her, one of 'em I knew to be your brother, where [she] staid, And fell, scarce to be got away: I left them with her.

_Enter Brother, Daughter, and others._

And hither came to tell you: Here they are.

_Daugh. May you never more enjoy the light_, &c. Is not this a fine Song?

_Bro._ Oh, a very fine one.

_Daugh._ I can sing twenty more.

_Bro._ I think you can.

_Daugh._ Yes truly can I, I can sing the _Broom_, And _Bonny Robbin_. Are not you a Tailor?

_Bro._ Yes.

_Daugh._ Where's my wedding-Gown?

_Bro._ I'll bring it to morrow.

_Daugh._ Doe, very rarely, I must be abroad else To call the Maids, and pay the Minstrels For I must loose my Maiden-head by cock-light 'Twill never thrive else. _Oh fair, oh sweet_, &c. [_Sings._

_Bro._ You must ev'n take it patiently.

_Jay._ 'Tis true.

_Daugh._ Good ev'n, good men, pray did you ever hear Of one young _Palamon_?

_Jay._ Yes wench, we know him.

_Daugh._ Is't not a fine young Gentleman?

_Jay._ 'Tis Love.

_Bro._ By no mean cross her, she is then distemper'd For worse than now she shows.

_1 Fr._ Yes, he's a fine man.

_Daugh._ Oh, is he so? you have a Sister.

_1 Fr._ Yes.

_Daugh._ But she shall never have him, tell her so, For a trick that I know, y'had best look to her, For if she see him once, she's gone, she's done, And undone in an hour. All the young Maids Of our Town are in love with him, but I laugh at 'em And let 'em all alone, is't not a wise course?

_1 Fr._ Yes.

_Daugh._ There is at least two hundred now with child by him, There must be four; yet I keep close for all this, Close as a Cockle; and all these must be boys, He has the trick on't, and at ten years old They must be all gelt for Musicians, And sing the wars of _Theseus_.

_2 Fr._ This is strange.

_Daugh._ As ever [you] heard, but say nothing.

_1 Fr._ No.

_Daugh._ They come from all parts of the Dukedom to him, I'll warrant ye, he had not so few last night As twenty, to dispatch, he'll tickle't up In two hours, if his hand be in.

_Jay._ She's lost Past all cure.

_Bro._ Heaven forbid man.

_Daug._ Come hither, you are a wise man.

_1 Fr._ Does she know him?

_2 Fr._ No, would she did.

_Daugh._ You are master of a Ship?

_Jay._ Yes.

_Daugh._ Where's your Compass?

_Jay._ Here.

_Daugh._ Set it to th' North. And now direct your course to th' wood, where _Palamon_ Lies longing for me; for the Tackling Let me alone; come weigh my hearts, cheerly.

_All._ Owgh, owgh, owgh, 'tis up, the wind's fair, top the Bowling; out with the main sail, where's your Whistle Master?

_Bro._ Let's get her in.

_Jay._ Up to the top Boy.

_Bro._ Where's the Pilot?

_1 Fr._ Here.

_Daugh._ What ken'st thou?

_3 Fr._ A fair wood.

_Daugh._ Bear for it master: tack about: [_Sings._ _When_ Cinthia _with her borrowed light_, &c. [_Exeunt._

_Scæna Secunda._

_Enter_ Emilia _alone, with two Pictures_.

_Emil._ Yet I may bind those wounds up, that must open And bleed to death for my sake else; I'll choose, And end their strife: two such young handsome men Shall never fall for me, their weeping Mothers, Following the dead cold ashes of their Sons Shall never curse my cruelty: Good Heaven; What a sweet face has _Arcite_, if wise nature With all her best endowments, all those beauties She [sowes] into the births of noble bodies, Were here a mortal woman, and had in her The coy denials of young Maids, yet doubtless, She would run mad for this man: what an eye! Of what a fiery sparkle, and quick sweetness: Has this young Prince! here Love himself sits smiling, Just such another wanton _Ganimead_, Set Love a fire with, and enforc'd the god Snatch up the goodly Boy, and set him by him A shining constellation: what a brow, Of what a spacious Majesty he carries! Arch'd like the great ey'd _Juno_'s, but far sweeter, Smoother than _Pelops_ Shoulder! Fame and Honor Methinks from hence, as from a Promontory Pointed in heaven, should clap their wings, and sing To all the under world, the Loves, and Fights Of gods, and such men near 'em. _Palamon_, Is but his foil, to him, a mere dull shadow, He's swarth, and meagre, of an eye as heavy As if he had lost his mother; a still temper, No stirring in him, no alacrity, Of all this sprightly sharpness, not a smile; Yet these that we count errors, may become him: _Narcissus_ was a sad Boy, but a heavenly: Oh who can find the bent of womans fancy? I'm a fool, my reason is lost in me, I have no choice, and I have ly'd so lewdly That Women ought to beat me. On my knees I ask thy pardon: _Palamon_, thou art alone, And only beautiful, and these th[e] eyes, These the bright lamps of Beauty that command And threaten Love, and what young Maid dare cross 'em What a bold gravity, and yet inviting Has this brown manly face! Oh Love, this only From this hour is complexion: lye there _Arcite_, Thou art a changling to him, a mere Gipsie. And this the noble Bodie: I am sotted, Utterly lost: My Virgins faith has fled me. For if my Brother, but even now had ask'd me Whether I lov'd, I had run mad for _Arcite_. Now if my Sister; More for _Palamon_. Stand both together: now, come ask me Brother, Alas, I know not: ask me now sweet Sister, I may go look; what a mere child is _Fancie_, That having two fair gawds of equal sweetness, Cannot distinguish, but must cry for both.

_Enter_ Emil. _and Gent._

_Emil._ How now Sir?

_Gent._ From the Noble Duke your Brother Madam, I bring you news: the Knights are come.

_Emil._ To end the quarrel?

_Gent._ Yes.

_Emil._ Would I might end first: What sins have I committed, chaste _Diana_, That my unspotted youth must now be soil'd With bloud of Princes? and my Chastity Be made the Altar, where the Lives of Lovers, Two greater, and two better never yet Made Mothers joy, must be the sacrifice To my unhappy Beauty?

_Enter_ Theseus, Hippolita, Perithous, _and Attendants_.

_Thes._ Bring 'em in quickly, By any means I long to see 'em. Your two contending Lovers are return'd, And with them their fair Knights: Now my fair Sister, You must love one of them.

_Emil._ I had rather both, So neither for my sake should fall untimely.

_Enter Messenger._ Curtis.

_Thes._ Who saw 'em?

_Per._ I a while.

_Gent._ And I.

_Thes._ From whence come you, Sir?

_Mess._ From the Knights.

_Thes._ Pray speak You that have seen them, what they are.

_Mess._ I will Sir, And truly what I think: six braver spirits Than those they have brought, (if we judge by the outside) I never saw, nor read of: he that stands In the first place with _Arcite_, by his seeming Should be a stout man, by his face a Prince, (His very looks so say him) his complexion, Nearer a brown, than black; stern, and yet noble, Which shews him hardy, fearless, proud of dangers: The circles of his eyes, shew fair within him, And as a heated Lion, so he looks: His hair hangs long behind him, black and shining Like Ravens wings: his shoulders broad, and strong, Arm'd long and round, and on his Thigh a Sword Hung by a curious Bauldrick: when he frowns To seal his Will with, better o' my conscience Was never Soldiers friend.

_Thes._ Thou hast well describ'd him.

_Per._ Yet, a great deal short Methinks, of him that's first with _Palamon_.

_Thes._ Pray speak him friend.

_Per._ I ghess he is a Prince too, And if it may be, greater; for his show Has all the ornament of honor in't: He's somewhat bigger than the Knight he spoke of, But of a face far sweeter; his complexion Is (as a ripe Grape) ruddy: he has felt Without doubt, what he fights for, and so apter To make this cause his own: in's face appears All the fair hopes of what he undertakes, And when he's angry, then a setled valour (Not tainted with extreams) runs through his body, And guides his arm to brave things: Fear he cannot, He shews no such soft temper, his head's yellow, Hard hair'd, and curl'd, thick twin'd, like Ivy tops, No[t] to undoe with thunder; in his face The Livery of the warlike Maid appears, Pure red and white, for yet no beard has blest him. And in his rowling eyes sits victory, As if she ever meant to correct his valour: His Nose stands high, a Character of honor, His red Lips, after fights, are fit for Ladies.

_Emil._ Must these men die too?

_Per._ When he speaks, his tongue Sounds like a Trumpet; all his lineaments Are as a man would wish 'em, strong and clean, He wears a well-steel'd Axe, the staffe of Gold, His age some five and twenty.

_Mess._ There's another, A little man, but of a tough soul, seeming As great as any, fairer promises In such a Body yet I never look'd on.

_Per._ Oh he that's freckle fac'd?

_Mess._ The same my Lord, Are they not sweet ones?

_Per._ Yes, they are well.

_Mess._ Methinks, Being so few, and well dispos'd, they shew Great, and fine Art in nature, he's white hair'd, Not wanton white, but such a manly colour Next to an aborn, tough, and nimble set, Which shows an active soul: his arms are brawny Lin'd with strong sinews: to the shoulder-piece, Gently they swell, like Women new conceiv'd, Which speaks him prone to labour, never fainting Under the weight of Arms, stout-hearted still, But when he stirs, a Tiger; he's grey ey'd, Which yields compassion where he conquers: sharp To spie advantages, and where he finds 'em, He's swift to make 'em his: He does no wrongs, Nor takes none; he's round fac'd, and when he smiles He shows a Lover, when he frowns, a Soldier: About his head he wears the winners oak, And in it stuck the favour of his Lady: His age, some six and thirty. In his hand He bears a Charging Staffe, emboss'd with Silver.

_Thes._ Are they all thus?

_Per._ They are all the sons of honor.

_Thes._ Now as I have a soul, I long to see 'em, Lady, you shall see men fight now.

_Hip._ I wish it, But not the cause my Lord; They would shew Bravely about the Titles of two Kingdoms; 'Tis pity Love should be so tyrannous: Oh my soft-hearted Sister, what think you? Weep not, till they weep bloud: Wench it must be.

_Thes._ You have steel'd 'em with your Beauty: honor'd friend, To you I give the Field; pray order it, Fitting the persons that must use it.

_Per._ Yes Sir.

_Thes._ Come, I'll go visit 'em: I cannot stay, Their fame has fir'd me so; till they appear, Good friend be royal.

_Per._ There shall want no bravery.

_Emil._ Poor wench go weep, for whosoever wins, Looses a noble Cosin, for thy sins. [_Exeunt._

_Scæna Tertia._

_Enter Jailor, Wooer, Doctor._

_Doct._ Her distraction is more at some time of the Moon, Than at other some, is it not?

_Jay._ She is continually in a harmless distemper, sleeps Little, altogether without appetite, save often drinking, Dreaming of another world, and a better; and what Broken piece of matter so e'er she's about, the name _Palamon_ lards it, that she farces ev'ry business

_Enter Daughter._

Withal, fits it to every question; Look where She comes, you shall perceive her behaviour.

_Daugh._ I have forgot it quite; the burden on't was _Down_ _A down a_: and penn'd by no worse man, than _Giraldo_, _Emilias_ Schoolmaster; he's as Fantastical too, as ever he may goe upon's legs, For in the next world will _Dido_ see _Palamon_, and Then will she be out of love with _Æneas_.

_Doct._ What stuff's here? poor soul.

_Jay._ Ev'n thus all day long.

_Daugh._ Now for this Charm, that I told you of, you must Bring a piece of silver on the tip of your tongue, Or no ferry: then if it be your chance to come where The blessed spirits, as there's a sight now; we Maids That have our Livers, perisht, crackt to pieces with Love, we shall come there, and do nothing all day long But pick Flowers with _Proserpine_, then will I make _Palamon_ a Nosegay, then let him mark me,--then.

_Doct._ How prettily she's amiss! note her a little farther.

_Da[u]._ Faith I'll tell you, sometime we goe to Barly-break, We of the blessed; alas, 'tis a sore life they have i' th' Other place, such burning, frying, boiling, hissing, Howling, chatt'ring, cursing, oh they have shrowd Measure, take heed; if one be mad, or hang, or Drown themselves, thither they goe, _Jupiter_ bless Us, and there shall we be put in a Cauldron of Lead, and Usurers grease, amongst a whole million of Cut-purses, and there boil like a Gamon of Bacon That will never be enough. [_Exit._

_Doct._ How her brain coins!

_Daugh._ Lords and Courtiers, that have got Maids with child, they are in this place, they shall stand in fire up to the Navel, and in Ice up to th' heart, and there th' offending part burns, and the deceiving part freezes; in troth a very grievous punishment, as one would think, for such a Trifle, believe me one would marry a leprous witch, to be rid on't I'll assure you.

_Doct._ How she continues this fancie! 'Tis not an engraffed madness but a most thick, and profound melancholly.

_Daugh._ To hear there a proud Lady, and a proud City wife, howl together: I were a beast, and Il'd call it good sport: one cries, oh this smoak, another this fire; one cries oh that I ever did it behind the Arras, and then howls; th' other curses a suing fellow and her Garden-house.

Sings. _I will be true, my Stars, my Fate, &c._ [_Exit Daugh._

_Jay._ What think you of her, Sir?

_Doct._ I think she has a perturbed mind, which I cannot minister to.

_Jay._ Alas, what then?

_Doct._ Understand you, she ever affected any man, e'r She beheld _Palamon_?

_Jay._ I was once, Sir, in great hope she had fix'd her Liking on this Gentleman my friend.

_Woo._ I did think so too, and would account I had a great Pen'worth on't, to give half my state, that both She and I at this present stood unfainedly on the Same terms.

_Doct._ That intemperate surfet of her eye, hath distemper'd the Other sences, they may return and settle again to Execute their preordained faculties, but they are Now in a most extravagant vagary. This you Must doe, confine her to a place, where the light May rather seem to steal in, than be permitted; take Upon you (young Sir, her friend) the name of _Palamon_; say you come to eat with her, and to Commune of Love; this will catch her attention, for This her mind beats upon; other objects that are Inserted 'tween her mind and eye, become the pranks And friskins of her madness; sing to her such green Songs of Love, as she says _Palamon_ hath sung in Prison; Come to her, stuck in as sweet Flowers as the Season is mistriss of, and thereto make an addition of Some other compounded odors, which are grateful to the Sense: all this shall become _Palamon_, for _Palamon_ can Sing, and _Palamon_ is sweet, and ev'ry good thing, desire To eat with her, carve her, drink to her, and still Among, intermingle your petition of grace and acceptance Into her favour: learn what Maids have been her Companions, and Play-pheers; and let them repair to Her with _Palamon_ in their mouths, and appear with Tokens, as if they suggested for him, it is a falshood She is in, which is with falshoods to be combated. This may bring her to eat, to sleep, and reduce what's Now out of square in her, into their former Law, and Regiment; I have seen it approved, how many times I know not, but to make the number more, I have Great hope in this. I will between the passages of This project, come in with my applyance: Let us Put it in execution; and hasten the success, which doubt not Will bring forth comfort. [Florish. _Exeunt._

_Actus Quintus. Scæna Prima._

_Enter_ Thesius, Perithous, Hippolita, _Attendants_.

_Thes._ Now let 'em enter, and before the gods Tender their holy Prayers: Let the Temples Burn bright with sacred fires, and the Altars In hallowed clouds commend their swelling Incense To those above us: Let no due be wanting, [_Florish of Cornets._ They have a noble work in hand, will honor The very powers that love 'em.

_Enter_ Palamon _and_ Arcite, _and their Knights_.

_Per._ Sir, they enter.

_Thes._ You valiant and strong-hearted enemies You royal German foes, that this day come To blow that nearness out, that flames between ye; Lay by your anger for an hour, and Dove-like Before the holy Altars of your helpers (The all-fear'd gods) bow down your stubborn bodies, Your Ire is more than mortal; So your help be, And as the gods regard ye, fight with Justice, I'll leave you to your prayers, and betwixt ye I part my wishes.

_Per._ Honor crown the worthiest.

[_Exit_ Theseus _and his train_.

_Pal._ The glass is running now that cannot finish Till one of us expire: think you but thus, That were there ought in me which strove to shew Mine enemy in this business, were't one eye Against another: Arm opprest by Arm: I would destroy th' offender, Coz. I would Though parcel of my self: then from this gather How I should tender you.

_Arc._ I am in labour To push your name, your antient love, our kindred Out of my memory; and i' th' self-same place To seat something I would confound: so hoist we The sails, that must these vessels port, even where The heavenly Lymiter pleases.

_Pal._ You speak well; Before I turn, let me embrace thee Cosin This I shall never do agen.

_Arc._ One farewel.

_Pal._ Why let it be so: Farewel Coz.

[_Exeunt_ Palamon _and his Knights_.

_Arc._ Farewel Sir; Knights, Kinsmen, Lovers, yea my Sacrifices True worshipers of _Mars_, whose spirit in you Expells the seeds of fear, and th' apprehension Which still is farther off it, goe with me Before the god of our profession: There Require of him the hearts of Lions, and The breath of Tygers, yea, the fierceness too, Yea, the speed also, to go on, I mean Else wish we to be snails: you know my prize Must be dragg'd out of bloud, force and great fea[te] Must put my Garland on, where she sticks The Queen of Flowers: our intercession then Must be to him that makes the Camp, a Cestron Brim'd with the b[l]ood of men: give me your aid And bend your spirits towards him. [_They kneel._ Thou mighty one, that with thy power hast turn'd Green _Neptune_ into purple. Comets prewarn, whose havock in vast Field Unearthed skulls proclaim, whose breath blows down, The teeming C[e]res foyzon, who dost pluck With hand armenipotent from [forth] blew clouds, The mason'd Turrets, that both mak'st and break'st The stony girths of Cities: me thy pupil, Youngest follower of thy Drum, instruct this day With military skill, that to thy laud I may advance my streamer, and by thee, Be stil'd the Lord o' th' day, give me great _Mars_ Some token of thy Pleasure.

[_Here they fall on their faces as formerly,_ _and there is heard clanging of Armor,_ _with a short Thunder, as the burst of_ _a battel, whereupon they all rise, and_ _bow to the Altar._

Oh great Corrector of enormous times, Shaker of o'er-rank States, thou grand decider Of dusty, and old Titles, that heal'st with blood The earth when it is sick, and curst the world O' th' pl[u]resie of people; I do take Thy signs auspiciously, and in thy name To my design; march boldly, let us goe. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Palamon _and his Knights, with the former observance_.

_Pal._ Our stars must glister with new fire, or be To day extinct; our argument is love, Which if the goddess of it grant, she gives Victory too, then blend your spirits with mine, You, whose free nobleness do make my cause Your personal hazard; to the goddess _Venus_ Commend we our proceeding, and implore Her power unto our partie. [_Here they kneel as formerly._ Hail Sovereign Queen of secrets, who hast power To call the fiercest Tyrant from his rage; And weep unto a Girl; that hast the might Even with an eye-glance, to choak _Marsis_ Drum And turn th' allarm to whispers, that canst make A Cripple florish with his Crutch, and cure him Before _Apollo_; that may'st force the King To be his subjects vassal, and induce Stale gravity to [daunce], the pould Batchelor Whose youth like wanton boys through Bonfires Have skipt thy flame, at seventy, thou canst catch And make him to the scorn of his hoarse throat Abuse young lays of Love; what godlike power Hast thou not power upon? To _Phoebus_ thou Add'st flames, hotter than his the heavenly fires Did scorch his mortal Son, thine him; the huntress All moist and cold, some say, began to throw Her Bow away, and sigh: take to thy grace Me thy vow'd Soldier, who do bear thy yoak As 'twere a wreath of Roses, yet is heavier Than Lead it self, stings more than Nettles; I have never been foul-mouth'd against thy Law, Ne'er reveal'd secret, for I knew none; would not Had I ken'd all that were; I never practis'd Upon mans wife, nor would the Libels read Of liberal wits: I never at great feasts Sought to betray a beauty, but have blush'd At simpring Sirs that did: I have been harsh To large Confessors, and have hotly ask'd 'em If they had Mothers, I had one, a woman, And women 't were they wrong'd. I knew a man Of eighty winters, this I told them, who A Lass of fourteen brided, 'twas thy power To put life into dust, the aged Cramp Had screw'd his square foot round, The Gout had knit his fingers into knots, Torturing Convulsions from his globy eies, Had almost drawn their spheres, that what was life In him seem'd torture: this Anatomie Had by his young fair [pheare] a Boy, and I Believ'd it was his, for she swore it was, And who would not believe her? brief I am To those that prate, and have done, no Companion; To those that boast and have not, a defyer; To those that would and cannot, a Rejoycer. Yea him I do not love, that tells close offices The foulest way, nor names concealments in The boldest language, such a one I am, And vow that lover never yet made sigh Truer than I. Oh then most soft sweet goddess Give me the victory of this question, which Is true loves merit, and bless me with a sign Of thy great pleasure.

[_Here Musick is heard, Doves are seen to flutter, they_ _fall again upon their faces, then on their knees._

_Pal._ Oh thou that from eleven to ninety reign'st In mortal bosoms, whose Chase is this world And we in Herds thy Game; I give thee thanks For this fair Token, which being laid unto Mine innocent true heart, arms in assurance [_They bow._ My body to this business; Let us rise And bow before the goddess: Time comes on.

[_Exeunt. Still Musick of Records._

_Enter_ Emilia _in white, her hair about her shoulders, a wheaten_ _wreath: One in white, holding up her train, her hair stuck_ _with Flowers: One before her carrying a silver Hynd, in_ _which is conveyed Incense and sweet odors, which being set_ _upon the Altar, her Maids standing aloof, she sets fire to it,_ _then they curt'sy and kneel._

_Emil._ Oh sacred, shadowy, cold and constant Queen, Abandoner of Revels, mute contemplative, Sweet, solitary, white as chaste, and pure As wind-fan'd Snow, who to thy femal Knights Allow'st no more blood than will make a blush, Which is their Orders Robe. I here thy Priest Am humbled for thine Altar, oh vouchsafe With that thy rare green eye, which never yet Beheld thing maculate, look on thy Virgin, And sacred silver Mistriss, lend thine ear (Which ne'r heard scurril term, into whose port Ne'er entred wanton sound,) to my petition Season'd with holy fear; this is my last Of vestal office, I'm Bride-habited, But Maiden-hearted: a Husband I have pointed, But do not know him, out of two, I should Choose one, and pray for his success, but I Am guiltless of election of mine eyes, Were I to lose one, they are equal precious, I could doome neither, that which perish'd should Goe to't unsentenc'd: Therefore most modest Queen, He of the two Pretenders, that best loves me And has the truest Title in't, let him Take off my wheaten Garland, or else grant The file and quality I hold, I may Continue in thy Band.

[_Here the Hind vanishes under the Altar: and_ _in the place ascends a Rose-Tree, having one_ _Rose upon it._

See what our General of Ebbs and Flows Out from the bowels of her holy Altar With sacred Act advances: But one Rose, If well inspir'd, this Battel shall confound Both these brave Knights, and I a Virgin Flower Must grow alone unpluck'd.

[_Here is heard a sodain twang of Instruments,_ _and the Rose falls from the Tree._

The Flower is fall'n, the Tree descends: oh Mistriss Thou here dischargest me, I shall be gather'd, I think so, but I know not thine own Will; Unclaspe th[y] Mistery: I hope she's pleas'd, Her Signs were gracious.

[_They curt'sey, and Exeunt._

_Scæna Secunda._

_Enter Doctor, Jaylor, and Woo[e]r, in habit of_ Palamon.

_Doct._ Has this advice I told you, done any good upon her?

_Woo._ Oh very much; the Maids that kept her company Have half perswaded her that I am _Palamon_; within this Half hour she came smiling to me, and ask'd me what I Would eat, and when I would kiss her: I told her, Presently, and kist her twice.

_Doct._ 'Twas well done; twenty times had been far better, For there the cure lies mainly.

_Woo._ Then she told me She would watch with me to night, for well she knew What hour my fit would take me.

_Doct._ Let her do so, And when your fit comes, fit her home, And presently.

_Wooer._ She would have me sing.

_Doct._ You did so?

_Woo._ No.

_Doct._ 'Twas very ill done then, You should observe her ev'ry way.

_Woo._ Alas I have no voice Sir, to confirm her that way.

_Doct._ That's all one, if ye make a noise, If she intreat again, do any thing, Lie with her if she ask you.

_Jail._ Hoa there Doctor.

_Doct._ Yes, in the way of cure.

_Jail._ But first, by your leave I' th' way of honesty.

_Doct._ That's but a niceness, Nev'r cast your child away for honesty; Cure her first this way, then if she will be honest, She has the path before her.

_Jail._ Thank ye Doctor.

_Doct._ Pray bring her in And let's see how she is.

_Jail._ I will, and tell her Her _Palamon_ staies for her: but Doctor, Methinks you are i' th' wrong still. [_Exit Jaylor._

_Doct._ Goe, goe: you Fathers are fine fools: her honesty? And we should give her physick till we find that:

_Woo._ Why, do you think she is not honest, Sir?

_Doct._ How old is she?

_Woo._ She's eighteen.

_Doct._ She may be, But that's all one, 'tis nothing to our purpose, What ev'r her Father saies, if you perceive Her Mood inclining that way that I spoke of _Videlicet, The way of flesh_, you have me.

_Woo._ Yes very well Sir.

_Doct._ Please her appetite And do it home, it cures her _ipso facto_, The melancholly humor that infects her.

_Woo._ I am of your mind, _Doctor_.

_Enter Jailor, Daughter, Maid._

_Doct._ You'll find it so; she comes, pray honor her.

_Jail._ Come, your Love _Palamon_ stays for you child, And has done this long hour, to visit you.

_Daugh._ I thank him for his gentle patience, He's a kind Gentleman, and I am much bound to him, Did you never see the horse he gave me?

_Jail._ Yes.

_Daugh._ How do you like him?

_Jail._ He's a very fair one.

_Daugh._ You never saw him dance?

_Jail._ No.

_Daugh._ I have often, He dances very finely, very comely, And for a Jigg, come cut and long tail to him, He turns ye like a Top.

_Jail._ That's fine indeed.

_Daugh._ He'll dance the _Morris_ twenty mile an hour. And that will founder the best hobby-horse (If I have any skill) in all the parish, And gallops to the turn of _Light a'love_, What think you of this horse?

_Jail._ Having these virtues I think he might be brought to play at Tennis.

_Daugh._ Alas that's nothing.

_Jail._ Can he write and read too?

_Daugh._ A very fair hand, and casts himself th' accounts Of all his Hay and Provender: that Hostler Must rise betime that cozens him; you know The Chesnut Mare the Duke has?

_Jail._ Very well.

_Daugh._ She is horribly in love with him, poor beast, But he is like his Master, coy and scornful.

_Jail._ What Dowry has she?

_Daugh._ Some two hundred Bottles, And twenty strike of Oats; but he'll ne'er have her; He lisps, in's neighing, able to entice A Millers Mare, He'll be the death of her.

_Doct._ What stuff she utters!

_Jail._ Make curt'sie, here your love comes.

_Woo._ Pretty soul How doe ye? that's a fine Maid, there's a curt'sie.

_Daugh._ Yours to command i'th' way of honesty; How far is't now to th' end o'th' world my Masters?

_Doct._ Why a days journey wench.

_Daugh._ Will you go with me?

_Woo._ What shall we do there wench?

_Daugh._ Why play at Stool-ball. What is there else to do?

_Woo._ I am content If we shall keep our wedding there.

_Daugh._ 'Tis true For there I will assure you, we shall find Some blind Priest for the purpose, that will venture To marry us, for here they are nice and foolish; Besides, my Father must be hang'd to morrow And that would be a blot i'th' business. Are not you _Palamon_?

_Woo._ Do not you know me?

_Daugh._ Yes, but you care not for me; I have nothing But this poor Petticoat, and two course Smocks.

_Woo._ That's all one, I will have you.

_Daugh._ Will you surely?

_Woo._ Yes, by this fair hand will I.

_Daugh._ We'll to bed then.

_Woo._ Ev'n when you will.

_Daugh._ Oh Sir, you would fain [b]e nibling.

_Woo._ Why do you rub my kiss off?

_Daugh._ 'Tis a sweet one, And will perfume me finely against the wedding. Is not this your Cosin _Arcite_?

_Doct._ Yes Sweet heart, And I am glad my Cosin _Palamon_ Has made so fair a choice.

_Daugh._ Do you think he'll have me?

_Doct._ Yes without doubt.

_Daugh._ Do you think so too?

_Jail._ Yes.

_Daugh._ We shall have many children: Lord, how y'are [growne] My _Palamon_ I hope will grow too finely Now he's at liberty: alas poor Chicken, He was kept down with hard Meat, and ill Lodging, But I'll kiss him up again.

_Enter a Messenger._

_Mess._ What do you here? you'll lose the noblest sight, That e'er was see[ne].

_Jail._ Are they i'th' field?

_Mess._ They are You bear a charge there too.

_Jail._ I'll away straight I must ev'n leave you here.

_Doct._ Nay, we'll goe with you, I will not loose the Fight.

_Jail._ How did you like her?

_Doct._ I'll warrant you within these three or four days I'll make her right again. You must not from her But still preserve her in this way.

_Woo._ I will.

_Doct._ Let's get her in.

_Woo._ Come Sweet, we'll go to dinner And then we'll play at Cards.

_Daugh._ And shall we kiss too?

_Woo._ A hundred times.

_Daugh._ And twenty.

_Woo._ I, and twenty.

_Daugh._ And then we'll sleep together.

_Doct._ Take her offer.

_Woo._ Yes marry will we.

_Daugh._ But you shall not hurt me.

_Woo._ I will not Sweet.

_Daugh._ If you do (Love) I'll cry. [Florish _Exeunt_.

_Scæna Tertia._

_Enter_ Theseus, Hippolita, Emilia, Perithous: _and_ _some Attendants_, T. Tuck: Curtis.

_Emil._ I'll no step further.

_Per._ Will you loose this sight?

_Emil._ I had rather see a Wren hawk at a Fly Than this decision; ev'ry blow that falls Threats a brave life, each stroke laments The place wheron it falls, and sounds more like A Bell, than Blade, I will stay here, It is enough, my hearing shall be punish'd, With what shall happen, 'gainst the which there is No deafing, but to hear; not taint mine eye With dread sights, it may shun.

_Per._ Sir, my good Lord Your Sister will no further.

_Thes._ Oh she must. She shall see deeds of Honor in their kind, Which sometime shew well pencill'd. Nature now Shall make, and act the Story, the belief Both seal'd with eye, and ear; you must be present, You are the victors meed, the price, and garland To crown the Questions Title.

_Emil._ Pardon me, If I were there, I'd wink.

_Thes._ You must be there; This trial is as 'twere i' th' night, and you The only Star to shine.

_Emil._ I am extinct, There is but envy in that light, which shows The one the other: darkness which ever was The [dam] of horror; who does stand accurst Of many mortal Millions, may even now By casting her black mantle over both That neither could find other, get her self Some part of a good name, and many a murther Set off whereto she's guilty.

_Hip._ You must go.

_Emil._ In faith I will not.

_Thes._ Why the Knights must kindle Their valour at your eye: know of this war You are the Treasure, and must needs be by To give the Service pay.

_Emil._ Sir, pardon me, The Title of a Kingdom may be try'd Out of it self.

_Thes._ Well, well then, at your pleasure, Those that remain with you, could wish their office To any of their enemies.

_Hip._ Farewel Sister, I am like to know your Husband 'fore your self By some small start of time, he whom the gods Doe of the two, know best, I pray them, he Be made your Lot.

[_E[xeunt_] Theseus, Hippolita, Perithous, _&c._

_Emil. Arcite_ is gently visag'd; yet his eye Is like an Engine bent, or a sharp weapon In a soft sheath; mercy, and manly courage Are bedfellows in his visage: _Palamon_ Has a most menacing aspect, his brow Is grav'd, and seems to bury what it frowns on, Yet sometimes 'tis not so, but alters to The quality of his thoughts; long time his eye Will dwell upon his object. Melancholly Becomes him nobly; so does _Arcite's_ mirth, But _Palamon's_ sadness is a kind of mirth, So mingled, as if mirth did make him sad. And sadness, merry; those darker humors that Stick mis-becomingly on others, on them Live in fair dwelling. [_Cornets. Trumpets sound as to a Charge._ Hark how yo[n] spurs to spirit doe incite The Princes to their proof, _Arcite_ may win me, And yet may _Palamon_ wound _Arcite_, to The spoiling of his figure. Oh what pity Enough for such a chance; if I were by I might do hurt, for they would glance their eies Toward my Seat, and in that motion might Omit a Ward, or forfeit an offence Which crav'd that very time: it is much better

[_Cornets. A great cry, and noise_ _within, crying a_ Palamon.

I am not there, oh better never born Than minister to such harm, what is the chance?

_Enter Servant._

_Ser._ The cry's a _Palamon_.

_Emil._ Then he has won: 'twas ever likely, He look'd all grace and success, and he is Doubtless the prim'st of men: I prethee run And tell me how it goes. [_Shout, and Cornets: crying a_ Palamon.

_Ser._ Still _Palamon_.

_Emil._ Run and enquire, poor Servant thou hast lost, Upon my right side still I wore thy Picture, _Palamon_'s on the left, why so I know not, I had no end in't; else chance would have it so.

[_Another cry and shout within, and Cornets._

On the sinister side the heart lies; _Palamon_ Had the best boding chance: this burst of clamor Is sure th' end o'th' combat.

_Enter Servant._

_Ser._ They said that _Palamon_ had _Arcites_ body Within an inch o'th' Pyramid, that the cry Was general a _Palamon_: but anon, Th' Assistants made a brave redemption, and The two bold Tytlers, at this instant are Hand to hand at it.

_Emil._ Were they metamorphos'd Both into one; oh why? there were no woman Worth so compos'd a man: their single share, [Their noblenes peculier to them, gives] The prejudice of disparity values shortness

[_Cornets. Cry within_, Arcite, Arcite.

To any Lady breathing--More exulting? _Palamon_ still?

_Ser._ Nay, now the sound is _Arcite_.

_Emil._ I prethee lay attention to the Cry.

[_Cornets. A great shout, and cry_, Arcite, _victory_.

Set both thine ears to th' business.

_Ser._ The cry is _Arcite_, and victory, hark _Arcite_, victory, The Combats consummation is proclaim'd By the wind Instruments.

_Emil._ Half sights saw That _Arcite_ was no babe, god's lyd, his richness And costliness of spirit lookt through him; it could No more be hid in him, than fire in flax, Than humble banks can go to law with waters, That drift winds, force to raging: I did think Good _Palamon_ would miscarry, yet I knew not Why I did think so; Our reasons are not prophets When oft our fancies are: they are coming off: Alas poor _Palamon_. [_Cornets._

_Enter_ Theseus, Hippolita, Perithous, Arcite _as_ _Victor and Attendants_, &c.

_Thes._ Lo, where our Sister is in expectation, Yet quaking, and unsetled: fairest _Emilia_, The gods by their Divine arbitrament Have given you this Knight, he is a good one As ever struck at head: Give me your hands; Receive you her, you him, be plighted with A love that grows, as you decay.

_Arcite. Emily._ To buy you I have lost what's dearest to me, Save what is bought, and yet I purchase cheaply, As I do rate your value.

_Thes._ Oh loved Sister, He speaks now of as brave a Knight as e'er Did spur a noble Steed: surely the gods Would have him die a batchelor, lest his race Should show i'th' world too godlike: his behaviour So charm'd me, that methought _Alcides_ was To him a Sow of Lead: if I could praise Each part of him to th' all I have spoke, your _Arcite_ Did not lose by't; for he that was thus good Encountred yet his Better, I have heard Two emulous Philomels, beat the ear o'th' night With their contentious throats, now on[e] the higher, Anon the other, then again the first, And by and by out-breasted, that the sense Could not be judge between 'em: so it far'd Good space between these kinsmen; till heavens did Make hardly one the winner: wear the Garland With joy that you have won: for the subdu'd, Give them our present Justice, since I know Their lives but pinch 'em, let it here be done: The Scene's not for our seeing, goe we hence, Right joyful, with some sorrow. Arm your prize, I know you will not lose her: _Hippolita_ I see one eye of yours conceives a tear The which it will deliver. [_Florish._

_Emil._ Is this winning? Oh all you heavenly powers, where is your mercy? But that your wills have said it must be so, And charge me live to comfort this unfriended, This miserable Prince that cuts away A life more worthy from him, than all women; I should, and would die too.

_Hip._ Infinite pity That four such eyes should be so fix'd on one That two must needs be blind for't.

_Thes._ So it is. [_Exeunt._

_Scena Quarta._

_Enter_ Palamon _and his Knights pinion'd: Jailor_ _Executioner_, &c. _Gard._

[_Pal._] There's many a man alive that hath out-liv'd The love o' th' people, yea, i'th' self-same state Stands many a Father with his child; some comfort We have by so considering: we expire And not without mens pity. To live still, Have their good wishes, we prevent The lothsome misery of age, beguile The Gout and Rheum, that in lag hours attend For grey approachers; we come towards the gods Young, and unwapper'd, not halting under Crimes Many and stale: that sure shall please the gods Sooner than such, to give us Nectar with 'em, For we are more clear Spirits. My dear kinsmen. Whose lives (for this poor comfort) are laid down, You have sold 'em too too cheap.

_1 K._ What ending could be Of more content? o'er us the victors have Fortune, whose Title is as momentary, As to us death is certain: a grain of honor They not o'er-weigh us.

_2 K._ Let us bid farewel; And, with our patience, anger tott'ring Fortune, Who at her certain'st reels.

_3 K._ Come: who begins?

_Pal._ Ev'n he that led you to this Banquet, shall Taste to you all: ah ha my Friend, my Friend, Your gentle daughter gave me freedom once; You'll see't done now for ever: pray how does she? I heard she was not well; her kind of ill Gave me some sorrow.

_Jail._ Sir, she's well restor'd, And to be married shortly.

_Pal._ By my short life I am most glad on't; 'tis the latest thing I shall be glad of, prethee tell her so: Commend me to her, and to piece her portion Tender her this.

_1 K._ Nay, let's be offerers all.

_2 K._ Is it a maid?

_Pal._ Verily I think so, A right good creature, more to me deserving Than I can quight or speak of.

_All K._ Commend us to her. [_They give their purses._

_Jail._ The gods requite you all, And make her thankful.

_Pal._ Adieu; and let my life be now as short, As my leave taking. [_Lies on the Block._

_1 K._ Lead courageous Cosin.

_1, 2 K._ We'll follow cheerfully.

[_A great noise within, crying, run, save, hold._

_Enter in haste a Messenger._

_Mess._ Hold, hold, oh hold, hold, hold.

_Enter_ Pirithous _in haste_.

_Pir._. Hold, hoa: It is a cursed haste you made If you have done so quickly: noble _Palamon_, The gods will shew their glory in a life That thou art yet to lead.

_Pal._ Can that be, When _Venus_ I have said is false? How do things fare?

_Pir._ Arise great Sir, and give the tidings ear That are most early sweet, and bitter.

_Pal._ What Hath wak't us from our dream?

_Pir._ List then: your Cosin Mounted upon a Steed that _Emily_ Did first bestow on him, a black one, owing Not a hayr worth of white, which some will say Weakens his price, and many will not buy His goodness with this note: Which superstition Hear finds allowance: On this horse is _Arcite_ Trotting the stones of _Athens_, which the _Calkins_ Did rather tell, than trample; For the horse Would make his length a mile, if't pleas'd his Rider To put pride in him: as he thus went counting The flinty pavement, dancing as t'were to'th' Musick His own hoofs made; (For as they say from iron Came Musicks origen) what envious Flint, Cold as old _Saturne_, and like him possest With fire malevolent, darted a Spark, Or what feirce sulphur else, to this end made, I comment not; The hot horse, hot as fire, Took Toy at this, and fell to what disorder His power could give his will, bounds, comes on end, Forgets school dooing, being therein train'd, And of kind mannage, pig-like he whines At the sharp Rowell, which he frets at rather Than any jot obeyes; Seeks all foul means Of boystrous and rough Jad'rie, to dis-seat His Lord, that kept it bravely: When nought serv'd, When neither Curb would crack, girth break, nor diff'ring plunges Dis-root his Rider whence he grew, but that He kept him 'tween his legs, on his hind hoofs on end he stands That _Arcites_ legs being higher than his head Seem'd with strange art to hang: His victors wreath Even then fell off his head: And presently Backward the jade comes o'er, and his full poyze Becomes the Riders load: Yet is he living, But such a vessell 'tis that floats but for The surge that next approaches: He much desires To have some speech with you: Loe he appears.

_Enter Theseus, Hippolita, Emilia, Arcite, in a chair._

_Pal._ O miserable end of our alliance The gods are mightie _Arcite_, if thy heart, Thy worthie, manly heart be yet unbroken: Give me thy last words, I'm _Palamon_, One that yet loves thee dying.

_Arc._ Take _Emilia_ And with her, all the worlds joy: Reach thy hand, Farewell: I have told my last hour; I was false, Yet never treacherous: Forgive me Cosen: One kiss from fair _Emilia_: 'Tis done: Take her: I die.

_Pal._ Thy brave soul seek _Elizium_.

_Emil._ I'll close thine eyes, Prince; Blessed souls be with thee Thou art a right good man, and while I live, This day I give to tears.

_Pal._ And I to honor.

_These._ In this place first you fought: Even very here I sundred you, acknowledg to the gods Our thanks that you are living: His part is play'd, and though it were too short He did it well: your day is length'ned, and The blissfull dew of heaven do's arowze you: The powerfull _Venus_, well hath grac'd her Altar, And given you your love: Our Master _Mars_, Hast vouch'd his Oracle, and to _Arcite_, gave The grace of the Contention: So the Deities Have shew'd due justice: Bear this hence.

_Pal._ O Cosen, That we should things desire, which doe cost us The loss of our desire; That nought could buy Dear love, but loss of dear love.

_Thes._ Never Fortune Did play a subtler Game: The conquer'd triumphs, The victor has the Loss: yet in the passage, The gods have been most equall: _Palamon_, Your kinsman hath confest the right o'th' Lady Did lye in you, for you first saw her, and Even then proclaim'd your fancie: He restor'd her As your stolen Jewell, and desir'd your spirit To send him hence forgiven; The gods my justice Take from my hand, and they themselves become The Executioners: Lead your Lady off; And call your Lovers from the stage of death, Whom I adopt my Friends. A day or two Let us look sadly, and give grace unto The Funerall of _Arcite_, in whose end The visages of Bridegroomes we'll put on And smile with _Palamon_; For whom an hour, But one hour since, I was as dearly sorry, As glad of _Arcite_: And am now as glad, As for him sorry. O you heavenly Charmers, What things you make of us? For what we lack We laugh, for what we have, are sorry still, Are children in some kind. Let us be thankefull For that which is, and with you leave dispute That are above our question: Let's goe off, And bear us like the time. [_Florish. Exeunt._

EPILOGUE.

_I would now aske ye how ye like the Play,_ _But as it is with School Boys, cannot say,_ _I 'm cruell fearefull: pray yet stay a while,_ _And let me look upon ye: No man smile?_ _Then it goes hard I see; He that has_ _Lov'd a young hansome wench then, show his face:_ _'Tis strange if none be here, and if he will_ _Against his Conscience let him hiss and kill_ _Our Market: 'Tis in vain, I see to stay ye,_ _Have at the worst can come, then; Now what say ye?_ _And yet mistake me not: I am not bold_ _We have no such cause. If th' tale we have told_ _(For 'tis no other) any way content ye_ _(For to that honest purpose it was ment ye)_ _We have our end; And ye shall have ere long_ _I dare say many a better, to prolong_ _Your old loves to us: We, and all our might,_ _Rest at your service, Gentlemen, good night._

[Florish.

APPENDIX.

_In the following references to the text the lines are numbered from the top of the page, including titles, acts, stage directions, &c., but not, of course, the headline or mere 'rules.' Where, as in the lists of Persons Represented,_ _there are double columns, the right-hand column is numbered after the left._

It has not been thought necessary to record the correction of every turned letter nor the substitution of marks of interrogation for marks of exclamation and _vice versâ_. Full-stops have been silently inserted at the ends of speeches and each fresh speaker has been given the dignity of a fresh line: in the double-columned folio the speeches are frequently run on. Misprints in the Quartos and the First Folio are recorded when they appear to be interesting. A word or two from the printed text is attached to the variants recorded below in cases where the variant, by itself, would not be sufficiently clear. Altered punctuation is shown, usually, by printing the old punctuation.

THE SEA-VOYAGE.

=A= = 1st folio. =B= = 2nd folio.

p. =1=, ll. 3 _to end of page_. _Not in_ A. l. 15. B] Bortswain

p. =2=, l. 20. A] drunk;

p. =3=, l. 3. B] ye l. 36. B] stow this. l. 37. Prayer-Book woman; l. 39. A] There

p. =4=, l. 1. B] frights and terrors l. 23. A] Am I not ll. 38, 39. B] whither ... whither

p. =5=, l. 1. A] lowd l. 5. A] ye were l. 19. A] _Gentlemen, Boat-swayne and Surgeon._ l. 37. B _omits_] perish

p. =7=, l. 37. A] living yet

p. =11=, l. 28. B] 'emt l. 30. A and B] friendship?

p. =12=, l. 11. B _omits_] as l. 29. B] delicate? l. 36. B] ro find it, to

p. =14=, l. 33. A] Those l. 38. B] in in

p. =16=, l. 5. A] Yea things beneath pitty shall l. 7. A] strong on's l. 29. B] do no l. 30. A] This bath'd l. 31. B] leave.

p. =18=, l. 28. B] wants and

p. =24=, l. 11. B] this

p. =28=, l. 3. B _omits] Fran._

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p. =30=, l. 4. B] thye

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p. =33=, l. 23. A] Sawce with

p. =37=, l. 19. B _repeats_] _Ros._ l. 30. A] _Patrick_

p. =39=, l. 28. A _omits_] _Alb._

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p. =51=, ll. 15, 16. B _omits_] but ... Oysters l. 36. B] will. l. 40. B] glad, for certain, wonder

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p. =58=, ll. 31, 35. B] you

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p. =64=, l. 3. A] deprave l. 22. A] I am 1. 23. B _omits_] it

WIT AT SEVERAL WEAPONS.

=A= = 1st folio. =B= = 2nd folio.

p. =66=, ll. 3-28. A _omits_. l. 19. B] Perfidions

p. =67=, l. 9. B] once.

p. =68=, l. 3. B _omits_] Wenches, l. 17. B _omits_] a l. 20. A] And never l. 39. A] Wit, thou after

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p. =70=, l. 5. B] friend's l. 14. B] already, Hark? Hark, l. 29. B] friends

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p. =72=, l. 3. B] _Neece_? l. 33. A] those

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p. =76=, l. 22. A]_poopitii in me junenem [? juvenem]_

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p. =137=, l. 14. B] pounds l. 17. A _gives this line as well as the next to Guardianess_. l. 38. B] best

p. =138=, l. 8. B] namh

p. =139=, l. 14 A] false dye l. 34. A] have griev'd

p. =140=, l. 30. A] with 't

p. =141=, l. 12. B] both l. 12. A] assistance, this

THE FAIR MAID OF THE INN.

=A= = 1st folio. =B= = 2nd folio.

p. =143=, ll. 4 _to end of page_. _Not in_ A.

p. =144=, l. 19. B]aud l. 33. A] Misconster

p. =145=, l. 18. _Full-stop added after_ Title

p. =146=, l. 6. B] beld l. 12. A] to say l. 29. B] temper. l. 31. A] How ere

p. =147=, l. 6. B] want l. 31. B] too

p. =150=, l. 23. B] appear what l. 29. A] with their greatnesse

p. =151=, l. 33. B] care

p. =152=, l. 14. A] our youthfull l. 39. B] you.

p. =153=, l. 4. A] _Cynthian_

p. =155=, l. 11. B] Turks l. 13. B] it. l. 27. A] the old l. 33. B] affections'

p. =156=, l. 12. A] His merit l. 22. A] light l. 31. A wages

p. =158=, l. 23. A _omits_] he

p. =159=, l. 33. A] give him more

p. =160=, l. 23. A _omits_] a

p. =161=, l. 14. B] sear'd

p. =163=, l. 8. A] too l. 13. B] Rings

p. =164=, ll. 9, 10. A] fled Cesario?

p. =165=, l. 6. A] Pockets l. 11. B]witnss l. 26. B] part?

p. =166=, l. 38. A] be tralaunct

p. =167=, l. 14. A] Switzert, was l. 31. A] steale

p. =168=, l. 39. A] _Cæsar_. I am

p. =169=, l. 1. A _omits_] _Cæs._ l. 2. A] I wish a

p. =171=, l. 25. A] a doores

p. =172=, l. 26. B] gudy

p. =173=, l. 28. B _omits_] I l. 33. B] Ill l. 35. A] impostors l. 38. A] earth 'em already

p. =174=, l. 21. A] well have l. 39. B] Mefs l. 40. A _adds stage_ _direction_] _Stooles out_.

p. =178=, l. 6. A _omits stage direction_. l. 24. A] whiles

p. =180=, l. 14. A _adds_] _Maria_. How ever _Bap._ A Faulkners sonne: l. 22. B] unfritful l. 26. A] her love

p. =182=, l. 13 B] Remembrace

p. =184=, l. 22. B] cheifly

p. =186=, l. 1. A] may gusse l. 12. A] greive thee l. 20. A _gives_ _this line to Bian._ l. 35. A] food

p. =187=, l. 35. A] vow

p. =188=, l. 19. A] mercy so this

p. =191=, l. 13. A] thoughts

p. =192=, l. 8. B] care l. 29. B] to

p. =194=, l. 13. B] woman l. 23. B] _Faro._ l. 34. A] Caranta

p. =196=, l. 36. A] see to

p. =198=, l. 10. B] Engilsh l. 14. A] Podrithoes

p. =199=, l. 14. A _omits_] to

p. =200=, l. 19. A] Greeke-land

p. =201=, l. 10. B] _Padant_ l. 15. A] that o's

p. =203=, l. 22. A] testimony,

p. =208=, l. 9. B] _Albar._ l. 13. B] thee? l. 15. A] thee; l. 15. A] afflicted l. 17 A] awake

p. =209=, l. 23. B] handing l. 37. B] aud

p. =210=, l. 32. B] on

p. =211=, l. 17. B _omits_] the

p. =212=, l. 11. B] _Couriers_ l. 16. A] slighted

p. =219=, l. 6. A] preach l. 22. B] a a

CUPID'S REVENGE.

=A= = the 1615 quarto. =B= = the 1630 quarto. =C= = the 1635 quarto. =D= = the 2nd folio.

Mrs Arnold Glover has kindly collated the three quartos in the Dyce collection, for the purpose of the following notes; and Mr R.F. Towndrow has kindly collated the three in the Bodleian.

(=A=) CUPIDS | REVENGE. |(***)| As it hath beene divers times Acted by | the Children of her Majesties | Revels. ¶ By _John Fletcher_. | _LONDON |_ Printed by _Thomas Creede_ for _Josias Harison_, and are to bee solde at the _Golden Anker_ in | _Pater-Noster-Row._ 1615.

The _Printer_ to the _Reader_.

_It is a custome used by some Writers in this Age to Dedicate their Playes to worthy persons, as well as their other works; and there is reason for it, because they are the best Minervaes of their braine, and expresse more puritie of conceit in the ingenious circle of an Act or Scæne, then is to be found in the vast circumference of larger Volumnes; and therefore worthy an answerable Mecænas, to honour and bee honoured by them. But not [h]aving any such Epistle from the Authour (in regard I am not acquainted with him) I have made bolde my_ _selfe, without his consent to dedicate this Play to the Juditious in generall, of what degree soever; not insinuating herein with any, be they never so great, that want judgement, for to them it belongs not, though they pay for it, more then in this respect, that like_ Æsops _Cocke, having met with a precious Stone by accident, they knew not the true use thereof, but had rather have a Barlie-corne to their humour, then a perfect Diamond. But leaving them to their ignorance_, I _once againe dedicate this Booke to the Juditious, some whereof_ I _have heard commend it to be excellent, who, because they saw it Acted, and knew what they spake, are the better to be beleeved: and for my