part I

yield; nor would I oppose my father: If he sees good we perish, I am already Sacrific'd; yet our enemies shall dearly purchase Their victory. Pray look to your charge, Nicetes, And you, Aramnes, with all care and speed; and when You come into the field, then let me see This countenance, that frowning smile, and I Shall like it: I love a man runs laughing Upon death. But we lose time in talk.

[_Exeunt_ NICETES _and_ ARAMNES.

## SCENE II.

_Enter_ INOPHILUS.

INO. Your servant, captains. Sir, pray a word with you.

PLAN. Prythee, be short, Inophilus; thou know'st My business.

INO. Sir, I am mad to see your tameness: A man bound up by magic is not so still as you; Nothing was ever precipitated thus, And yet refus'd to see its ruin.

PLAN. Thou art tedious, I shall not tarry.

INO. You are made general.

PLAN. I know it.

INO. Against the Argives.

PLAN. So.

INO. With thirteen thousand men, no more, sir.

PLAN. I am glad on't, the honour is the greater.

INO. The danger is the greater; you will be kill'd, sir, And lose your army.

PLAN. Is this all? I care not.

INO. But so do I, and so do all your friends. I smell a rat, sir; there's juggling in this business; I am as confident of it as I am alive. The king might within this twenty-four hours Have made a peace on fair conditions.

PLAN. But dishonourable.

INO. And would not-- On a sudden useth the ambassadors scurvily, And provokes the Argives, yet himself In no posture of defence.

PLAN. But----

INO. Pray give me leave, sir. After this, you are on a sudden created general, And pack'd away with a crowd of unhewn fellows, Whose courage hangs as loose about them As a slut's petticoats. Sir, he had other spirits In the court created for such perils. Excuse me, I know you fear not to meet destruction; But where men are sure to perish, 'Twere well the persons were of less concernment. He might have let you stay'd till you had gather'd An army fit for your command, and sent Some petty things upon this expedition Whose loss would have been nothing, and of whom It might have been recorded in our story As an honour, that they died monuments Of the king's folly. But let that pass; You'll say perhaps, you only have a spirit Fit for such undertakings? I wish you had not; Your want then would not be half so grievous. But here is the prodigy! you must fight them presently. Come, 'tis a project put into the king's head By some who have a plot on you and him.

PLAN. It may be so, Inophilus, and I believe All this is true you tell me, and 't might startle A man were less resolv'd than I. But danger and I have been too long acquainted To shun a meeting now; I am engaged, and Cannot any ways come off with reputation. Hadst told me this before, perhaps I might Have thought on't; and yet I should not neither. If the king thinks I am grown dangerous, It is all one to me which way he takes Me from his fears. He could not do it Handsomer than thus; it makes less noise now-- But come, I must not fear such things, Inophilus: The king hath more virtue and honour than To do these actions, fit only for guilty souls; Nor must I fear, when my Inophilus fights by me.

INO. Troth, sir, for all your compliment, if you've No valour but what owes itself to my company, you're like To make cold breakfast of your enemies: I have other business than to throw away My life, when there is so much odds against it: I'll stay at home, and pray for you, that's all, sir.

PLAN. How! wilt not go then, Inophilus?

INO. The time hath been, I thought it better sport To bustle through a bristly grove of pikes; When I have courted rugged danger with Hotter desires than handsome faces, And thought no woman half so beautiful As bloody gaping wounds: But, sir, To go and cast away myself now would not Be gallant, nor an action worth my envy: 'Tis weakness to make those that seek my ruin Laugh at my folly, With jaws stretch'd wider than the gulf that swallows us. I know when honour calls me, and when treason counterfeits Her voice.

PLAN. Well, stay at home and freeze, And lose all sense of glory in A mistress' arms. Go, perish tamely, drunk With sin and peace; and may'st thou, since thou dar'st Not die with them, Outlive thy noble friends.

INO. I thank you, sir, but I cannot be angry.

## SCENE III.

_Enter_ NICETES _and_ ARAMNES, _with some Captains and Soldiers_.

NIC. Yonder's the bones o' th' army ralli'd up Together, but they look'd rather as if They came home from being soundly beaten. Methinks such tatter'd rogues should never conquer, Victory would look so scurvily among 'em, They'd so bedaub her if she wore clean linen.

CAPT. Sir, we wear as sound hearts in these torn breeches, As e'er a courtier of them all. We are not afraid of spoiling our hands for want Of gloves, nor need we almond-butter, when We go to bed. And though my lieutenant Is pleased to be a little merry, you Shall see us die as handsomely in these old clothes As those wear better, and become our wounds As well, and perhaps smell as sweet When we are rotten.

PLAN. We hope it. Captains and fellow-soldiers, we are proud Of this occasion to try your valours; You shall go no farther than your prince doth, I'll be no bringer up of rears. Let not The number of the foe affright you, The more they are, the more will the honour be. The lion scorns to prey upon a hare, Nor is the blinking taper fit to try eagles' eyes. The weight of glory makes our danger light. When victory comes easily, 'tis half A shame to conquer.

[_Soldiers shout, and exeunt._

INO. I'll stay at home, and grieve, that so many Daring souls should die on such advantage.

[_Exit_ INOPHILUS.

## SCENE IV.

_Enter the_ KING _solus_.

KING. Her husband dead too! Fates, let me die, I am too happy to remain long thus Without a ruin, great as the height I fell from. Plangus was my only obstacle; but him I have Removed. But love commanded: His presence would have countermanded all attempts; I need not fear his magic at this distance. His looks and actions were one entire enchantment, All[84]-powerful over a lady's heart. I sent for her; but she's not come yet. Who waits without?

_Enter_ ARTESIO.

ART. There's a mourning lady, sir, Would speak with the king.

KING. Admit her, and begone.

## SCENE V.

_Enter_ ANDROMANA _in mourning, with a hood over her face, which she throws up when she sees the_ KING.

KING. So riseth Phoebus from the gloomy night, While pale-fac'd Dian maketh haste to hide Her borrow'd glory in some neighb'ring cloud, Envying the beauty of the new-born day, When darkness crowds into the other world. Madam, why kneel you? You, at whose name monarchs

[_She kneels._

Themselves might tremble, and mortals bow With reverence great as they pay to altars: Sceptres should break in pieces and adore you; At whose sight the sun and moon should blush Themselves to blood and darkness, and falling From their sphere, crush the audacious world to atoms, For daring to behold a lustre so much greater Than their own.

AND. Sir, give me leave to wonder What sin I have committed, which calling Down the vengeance of the gods, Hath made me author of all this blasphemy. Sir, I beseech your majesty, if you are angry With your creature, speak some cruel word and blast me. Scorn me not into the other world, where I have Sins enough of my own to blush for, and shall not need To dye his cheeks for other men's offences.

KING. Lady, though Parthian darts are not so sharp As are those killing words; yet that breath, which Utters them is sweeter than the morning dew. I'll be dumb, for praises cannot add, but rather Diminish Andromana's worth.

AND. I wonder now no longer at this language, 'Tis such as kings are bred in. But I beseech you, sir, if there be aught You will command your servant--if Andromana Must do or suffer anything for great Ephorbas, Lay by yourself a minute, and remember A merchant's wife must hear you.

KING. Your husband Leon's dead, I hear, lady--

[_She weeps._

Nay, spare those pearls, madam; cast not away Such treasure upon the memory of one Who, if the best of men, deserves them not. Come, come, forget these sorrows, lady, And wear not mourning weeds before the world's Destruction; hide not those fair eyes, whose splendour Would enrich our court. Madam, though none There be in court can merit such a beauty, Yet I myself have taken pains to search A husband for you: what think you of myself?

AND. Great sir, your care is, like yourself, all noble; But suits with me no better Than Phoebus' horses did with Phaeton, Ruin'd the world and him. First, sir, you do Debase yourself to honour her, whose worth Is less considerable than lovers' oaths: My husband's ashes are scarce cold yet, And would your majesty have me forsake My honour and his memory so soon? I have Not paid oblations due to's ashes yet.

KING. You compliment away the worth we know You have, Andromana: what say you to the prince?

AND. I say he is the prince, and great Ephorbas' son; He's Plangus: and if you think there yet remains A title that can be either better or greater, I think him worthy of it.

KING. But dost [thou] think him worthy Andromana?

AND. O heavens! Is Jove worth heav'n, Or doth the sun deserve to be a light To all the world? Can virtue deserve honour, Or labour riches? Can gods merit altars? It might have been a puzzling question To them whose ears have not been bless'd With Plangus' worth. But this is so below him----

KING. But say he loves thee?

AND. I dare not say so: For when I think a prince pretends to such poor things As I am, I feel an ice runs through my veins, And my blood curdles into flakes of snow, And bids me fear him--not with an awe or reverence, But as a spotted sinful thing, which is The worse for being great. 'Tis such a fear, As I should conceive 'gainst an armed ravisher.

KING. These things may be expected, lady, I confess, From blood that boils in flames hot as the sun In scorching Libra, or sturdy Hercules, When he unmaiden'd fifty in one night; But from a man whose years have tam'd those vices, Whose love is dotage and not lust, Who doth adore a handsome virtue, and pays His vows to't, you should have other hopes. Plangus is young, a soldier, and by consequence Something which youth excuses. But Ephorbas Hath left these toys behind him, when he shook off His youth.

AND. Sir, now my fears are out. O virtue! Are there just pow'rs which men adore, and throw Away their pray'rs upon, that lend their eyes To human actions? or was the name of heaven Invented to still petty sinners? Sir, sure, I am mistaken, You are not great Ephorbas, sir, whose virtue Is a theme of wonder to all neighbour nations; Pray help me to him, I would see that angel; The kingdom's honour and [all] good men's sanctuary. But if you are the man, whom I have pray'd for Oft'ner than I have slept; pray, sir, belie not A virtue which I've hitherto admired.

KING. I see You are a stranger, lady--give me leave To say so--to Ephorbas; But if a lady of thy melting years Can love this greyness, I vow my sceptre, Throne, kingdom, and myself are thine; Thou'rt fit to be a queen.

[_She starts back._

AND. A queen! sir, have your subjects anger'd you? Have they rebell'd, or done some sin that wants A name? I'll cleave to the pavement, till I have begg'd A vengeance great as their crime; but this You mention is a punishment, which your subjects Must study years to curse you for; no sin Deserves it. You would blind my eyes with throwing gold Before 'em, Or set me up so high on the steep pinnacle Of honour's temple, that you would have me not be Able to look down on my own simplicity. You can create me great, I know, sir, But good you cannot. You might compel, Entice me too, perhaps, to sin. But Can you allay a gnawing conscience, Or bind up bleeding reputation? I did never hear that physic could afford A remedy for a wounded honour.

EPH. Thou'rt a fool, Andromana. You must be mine. Consider on't.

AND. You may command your vassal.

KING. That's kindly said.

AND. But--I humbly take my leave; Goodness protect you!

[_Exit._

## SCENE VI.

_Enter_ RINATUS, EUBULUS, _and_ ARAMNES.

EPH. Wait on that lady forth.

RIN. Would there were not a woman in the world, So we had our prince again! Sir, are you mad? Or have forgot you are a father? You Have undone us all.

EPH. Why, what's the matter?

RIN. O sir, the prince----

EPH. He is not dead, Rinatus, is he?

RIN. Sir, if he be, 'tis you have murder'd him: Was it for this you were so jealous t'other day? May my Inophilus never pretend to virtue, I'll teach him a more thriving art. Come to the window a little, sir, and hear How the good people curse you. As cold weather As it is, some are so hard at it, they sweat again.

EPH. Prythee, unriddle; hast thou drunk hemlock, Since I saw thee last?

RIN. I would not be in my wits for anything I' th' world; my grief would kill me if I were. He's mad that will speak sense or reason, Now you have thrown away our prince thus: Whose innocence was clearer than his own eyes: Can you think how you have murder'd so much virtue, And not blush yourself to death?

EPH. I think indeed I sent him general Against the Argives; but--'twas his own desire.

RIN. 'Twas not his own desire, sir, to have But thirteen thousand men, sir, was it? Was that army fit to oppose great Argo? There came a messenger just now, that saw The prince not sixteen miles from hence (For thither is the foe marched) draw up his men T' engage the enemy.

EPH. For heav'n's sake, Rinatus, post him back again, bid him retreat; Command my son from me Not to go on till greater forces follow him. If it be possible, redeem the error; I'd give my kingdom, life, or anything, It were to do again.

RIN. I am glad to see this now; Heav'n send it be n't too late!

EPH. Nay, stand not prating.

[_A horn within._

RIN. 'Tis from the army, sir. O heaven, I fear!

EPH. If from the army, prythee, put on better looks.

_Enter_ MESSENGER.

MES. Your son--nay more, your dying son-- Commanded me to bring you word, He died true to his honour, king, and countrymen; Nor let me stay to see the brightest lamp Go out, that ever grac'd this orb.

[_The_ KING _faints_.

RIN. O heaven, the king! why this is worse, sir, Than the other; let us not lose you both.

EPH. Let me but hear how 'twas he made his exit, And then my glass is run: I will not live One minute longer.

MES. Sir, thus it was---- 'Tis scarce three hours ago, since the brave Plangus Marched from Lixa with an army, Whose souls were richer than their clothes by far, Though their valour had put on all the bravery That soldiers ever wore. The prince, whose presence Breathed new fire into these flaming spirits, Resolv'd to meet the enemy with his handful, And with a winged speed fell down to th' Elean Straits, Determining to try it with him there.[85] His soldiers also, True sons of war, contemning so great odds, When victory and their country was to crown The conquerors, whetted their eager valours With impatient expectation of the enemy Who, trusting to his multitude, came on Wing'd both with scorn and anger to see, that paucity Should dare dispute victory against their odds. Plangus who, though he saw, yet could not fear Destruction, and scorn'd to avoid it, When the king commanded him to meet it, Marshall'd his army to the best advantage, And having given Zopiro the left wing, The body to Evarnes, himself chose out the right; Because he would be opposite to Argo. And keeping a reserve, as great as could be hop'd for From so small a company--not above five hundred men, He gave the command of them to Zenon, Who with his fellows took it ill they should Be so long idle, and had not the honour To be thought worthy To die with the most forward, and would, no question, Have refused the charge; but that the smiling Prince promis'd them they should have time to die. Words here were useless, nor had he time to use them.

RIN. What, was Inophilus idle all this while?

MES. I only heard the prince wish, just as he Spurred his horse against the valiant Argo, He had fewer by a thousand men: So he had Inophilus.

RIN. O traitorous boy!

MESS. The prince and Argo met; and like Two mighty tides encountered. Here death Put on her sable livery, and the two gallants, Whose valour animated each army, bandied a long time With equal force, till at last Great Argo fell. And, on a sudden, multitudes of men Accompani'd him, so that the wing Went presently to rout and execution. Zopiro also and Evarnes, having slain Their opposite leaders, breath'd death and destruction To their reeling foes. Thus flush'd With victory and blood, th' Iberians revell'd Th[o]rough the flying field, till there came on The enemy's reserve of twenty thousand men, Who, fresh and lusty, grinded their teeth for anger At their fellows' overthrow, and pouring on Our weary soldiers, turn'd the stream of victory. But the prince's valour and good fortune soon O'ercame this opposition, and having rallied His broken troops, went to relieve his friends, Who had far'd worse; when presently he saw Evarnes, who had pil'd up enemies about him, As an obelisk of his own death and victory, Fall bleeding at his foot, and having kiss'd it With his dying lips, entreated him to save Himself for a more happy day, and died. 'Twas not long after the gallant Zenon Who had perform'd that day deeds of eternal fame, And with his few, spite of opposition, thrice charg'd And routed some thousands of the enemy, Expir'd; which when the prince beheld, Weeping for anger, he flew amongst his enemies, Sustain'd only by the greatness of his courage, For blood and strength had both forsook him; He spent that spark of life was left in him, In slaughter and revenge, when leaning on His weapon's point, that dropp'd with blood as fast As he, he then conjur'd me with all speed Only to tell the king I saw him Die worthy of his father and himself.

[_A horn without. A shout._

EPH. O heaven! what mean these acclamations? What, do

[_A shout again._

The Iberians welcome their bloody conquerors With so much joy?

## SCENE VII.

_Enter_ PLANGUS, INOPHILUS, _and_ ZOPIRO, _Captains_.

EPH. O, O!

[_He faints._

RIN. O cowardly boy! for that base word includes All baseness, doth not shame kill thee, Or fear chill thy dastard blood to an ice, At sight of that most noble injur'd ghost? 'Tis well, dear Plangus (if thy divinity deserve not A more lasting name) that thou art come To take revenge on that most traitorous son, In's father's presence, who detests his baseness More than thyself can do----

PLAN. Excuse us, dear Rinatus, That wonder froze to such a silence, If when we expected such a welcome As had that Roman son whose mother died For joy to see him, we found so cold An entertainment, something made us look'd upon So like an inconvenience, that we could Not but put on some small amazement.

EPH. And do I hear thee speak again, And see thee, or only dream a happiness, Whose reality stars and my genius deny me? Or art thou Plangus' angel, come to rouse Me from despair?

PLAN. Sir, pray, believe it; and be not Backward in th' entertainment of these soldiers, If you esteem't a happiness; in a word, You are a conqueror: and th' audacious Argives Have paid their lives as sacrifices To your offended sword.

EPH. A messenger of comfort to a despairing lover Is a less acceptable thing than this thy presence; If what yon fellow told me were untruth, Thy welcome sight hath amply made amends For those tormenting fears he put me to. But if it were not, let me know what chance Redeem'd you?

PLAN. If you have heard how things then went, when I Sent away that messenger----

EPH. Yes, I have heard it.

PLAN. Then know, when death and our own fates had sworn Our ruin, and we, like some strong wall that long Resists the iron vomits of the flaming cannon, At last shakes itself into a dreadful ruin To those who throw it down; so had the Iberians, With valour great as the cause they fought for, Strove with a noble envy, who should first[86] Outgo his fellow in slaughtering the Argives: At last, oppress'd with multitude and toil, We sunk under the unequal burden; Then was our emulation chang'd, and who before Strove to outdo each other, now eagerly contended To run the race of death first. Sir, there it was I (and many other braver captains) fell, Being one wound from head to foot. O, then It was Inophilus came in, With about twenty other gallants, and with what speed The nimble lightning flies from east to west, Redeem'd this bleeding trunk, which the Insulting Argive had encompass'd, Blown up with victory and pride; he with A gallantry like none but great Inophilus, Being bravely back'd by his own soldiers, Whose actions spoke them more than men, had not Inophilus been by, redeem'd the honour Of a bleeding day. And thus are[87] [now] our troops, As little in number[88] as their valour great, Enrich'd with victory, blood, and jewels, Of which the opposite army wanted no store, Return'd with the renown of an achievement, As full of glory and honour to the conquerors, As ruin to the Argives.

INO. My liege, Had this action and my merit been so great As our prince would make it, I then might Own it, and expect reward.---- But it was so small, so much below my duty, That I must, upon my knees, beg pardon That I came no sooner.

EPH. This is a prodigy Beyond whatever yet was wrote in story. Inophilus, we have been too backward In cherishing thy growing virtue, we will Hereafter mend it. And, dear Rinatus, be proud of thy brave son, And let the people honour the remaining army; We shall esteem it as a favour done to us. We have a largess for your valorous captains, You have not fought in vain. This day let our court put on its greatest jollity, And let none wear a discontented brow; For where a frown is writ, we'll think it reason To say, that face hath characters of treason.

[_Exeunt._

## ACT III., SCENE 1.

_Enter_ PLANGUS _and_ INOPHILUS.

INO. But, sir, when you consider she's a woman----

PLAN. O dear Inophilus! Let earth and heav'n forget there are such things; Or if they ever name them, let it be With a curse heavy as are the ills they act. A mandrake's note Would ring a better peal of music in my ears, Than those two syllables pronounc'd again.

INO. Pray, sir, put off this humour, This peevish pet, and reason tamely. Sir, You've lost a wench, and will you therefore lose Yourself too? Hear me but patiently a word.[89]

PLAN. Prythee, go teach the galley-slaves that word, Things that dare own no thought beyond their chains, And stand in fear of whipping and wanting bread. Bid them be tame and patient that fry in sulphur: 'Tis a word I've forsworn to know the meaning of; Or if I must, 'tis but to shun it, and hate it more. O, were thy wrongs as great as mine, Inophilus, Or didst thou love but half so well as Plangus, Thou wouldst instil into me the poison of revenge, And puff me up with thought of vengeance Till I did burst, and, like a breaking cloud, Spread a contagion on those have injur'd me.

INO. Why, this were handsome in some country-fellow, Whose soul is dirty as the thing he's mad for: 'Twere pretty in a lady that had lost her dog; [Her dog;] but----

PLAN. I know what thou wouldst say-- But for Plangus. O, 'tis for none but him to Be so. Those that have injur'd me are persons I once held dearer than my eyes; but how much Greater was my love, so much more is th' offence; Wounds from our friends are deepest. Had any but my father--and yet methinks That name should have protected me; or was it Made only to secure offenders? My life was his, he gave it me: my honour, too, I could have parted with; but, 'las, my love Was none of mine, no more than vows made to A deity and not perform'd. And for that creature, Who must be lost for ills, through which I must Make way to my revenge-- Had she betray'd my honour to anything But him that gave me being, she had made Me half amends, in that my way to vengeance Had been open. Now I am spurr'd forward To revenge by fury, and yet held in by the rein Of a foolish piety, that doth no man good But them that use it not. 'Tis like the miser's idol, it yielded him No gold till he had broke the head off. Nay, Inophilus, one secret more, And the horror of it blow thee from earth to heaven, Where there are no such things as women: 'Twill turn thy soul the inside outward: I cannot get it out. Prythee what is't, Inophilus?

INO. Alas, I know not, sir.

PLAN. Do but imagine the worst of ills Earth ever groan'd under; a sin nothing but woman, Nay, such a woman as Andromana, durst think on; And it is that.

INO. How revenge transports you! Princes have lost their mistresses before, Nay, and to those have not such right to them, As hath Ephorbas to what Plangus hath. Who could command her, if not Ephorbas?

PLAN. But I have--O Inophilus, I burst-- Yet it will out--dost thou not see it here?

[_Unbuttons his doublet._

O, I have known Andromana as Ephorbas did last night.----

INO. Why, sir, The sin done by your father is not yours, If you could not help it.----

PLAN. Why, there it is: 'Tis that which gnaws me here. But I swore by all the gods that she was As innocent from my unclean embraces as is The new-fall'n snow, or ermines that will meet Ten deaths before one spot: I made my father think The thoughts of angels were less innocent than she. No, it was I betray'd him; his virtue was too great To[90] have suspected it. How do I look, Inophilus?

INO. Like some bless'd man that, griev'd for others' sins, Could,[91] out of a good nature, part with half His own whiteness to purge the others' stains.

PLAN. Now thou soothest, and, like some flattering glass, Present'st me to advantage. I am, in short, One born to make Iberia unhappy. Had I as black a face as is my soul, you would Find in respect of it A†gyptians were snow-white. Methinks I hear Heaven tell me I am slow, And it is time I had begun revenge. Ephorbas has done him wrong, who lov'd him More than heaven or his happiness, and would Have run out of the world to have left him Free [to] whatever he would lay claim to, but Andromana-- Nay, she also had been His, so it could have been without a sin. But she knew the sin she acted, and yet did it; And [yet she] lives free from the stroke of thunder! Is there such a thing as heaven, or such a one As Justice dwells there? and can I ask the question? O, the tameness of a conscience loaded with sin. Which reasons and talks, when it should do! But I will be reveng'd, and thus I begin. Inophilus,

[_He draws._

Be sure, when I am dead, to meet my ghost, And do as that instructs thee. 'Twill tell all the particulars Of my revenge, who must die first, who last, and What way too. I have my lesson perfect.

[_He leans the pommel on the ground to fall on it_: INOPHILUS _kicks it by with his foot_.

INO. Is this the revenge befits great Plangus?

PLAN. Had this been done two days ago, thou durst As well have met the lightning naked As have opposed my will thus.

[_He draws._

INO. Hear me; Ask me no questions, nor answer me; or if you do, By Heav'n, I'll never speak more. It is revenge You'd have, and 'tis a great one, a very noble one, To kill yourself! Be confident, your greatest foes Wish nothing more. When after-ages come to hear your story, What will they say? Just as they did of Cato: He durst not look great CA|sar in the face-- So Plangus was afraid, and died. A very pretty story, and much to a man's credit: For shame, dear Plangus (let friendship use that title): Show your great soul the world believes you're master of-- And I dare swear you are in this action. Nay, rally up yourself, and fight it stoutly. Shake from your mind revenge, and having laid That passion by, put on that virtue the world Admires in you; 'tis now the time to show it. The sun, broke from a cloud, doubles his light; And fire, the more resisted, flames more bright. Andromana has injur'd you; scorn her, therefore, As though[92] she had done nothing; I'd not do her the favour To have one thought of her, or could be troubled At that she did. As for your father, sir, Besides the tie of nature, he knows not He hath wrong'd you: or if he doth, 'Tis love that caus'd him; A word that once made an excuse with Plangus For what offence soever.

PLAN. Thou hast wrought upon me, And I am resolved to live a day or two more: But if I like it not--well, I'll go try To sleep a little; perhaps that may--I am Strangely melancholy: prythee, lie down by me, Inophilus, I'm safe while in thy company.

[_Exeunt._

## SCENE II.

_Enter_ PLANGUS, _as from sleep_.

PLAN. Lord! how this spirit of revenge still haunts me, And tempts me with such promis'd opportunity, And magnifies my injuries! Sometimes It calls me coward, and tells me conscience, In princes who are injur'd like myself, Is but an excuse they find for what is in truth Poorness of spirit or something baser. It tells me 'tis a sin to be good, when all The world is bad. It makes me look upon myself, whilst wearing This garb of virtue, like some old antiquary In clothes that are out of fashion in Iberia. But I will not yield to it: I know it is a greater glory To a man's self (and he that courts opinion Is of a vulgar spirit) to disobey than satisfy An appetite which I know is sinful. Good Heaven, guard me, how am I tempted

_Enter_ ANDROMANA.

To put on my former temper! but thus I fling it from me.

[_Throws away his sword._

## SCENE III.

AND. Why, how now, prince? if you part with your darling So easily, there is small hopes but you Have thrown all love behind you.

PLAN. Heaven, how she's alter'd! I, that once swore Jove from the well-tun'd sphere Ne'er heard such harmony as I did when She spake: methinks I can now, in comparison Of her voice, count screech-owls' music, Or the croaking toad.

[_Aside._

AND. Who is't you speak of, sir?

PLAN. Tempt me not, madam, with another word; For, by Heaven, you know I'm apt, being incens'd---- Wake not those wrongs, that bellow louder in My soul than wretches in the brazen bull, or Jove Who speaks in thunder; those wrongs my goodness Had half laid aside--or if you do, I have a soul dares what you dare tempt me to.

AND. Sir, I must speak, Though Jove forbad me with a flash of lightning. You think perhaps, sir, I have forgot my Plangus? But, sir, I have infinitely injur'd you, And could not satisfy my conscience--if I Should say my love too, I should not lie-- Till I had ask'd your pardon.

PLAN. Madam, the fault's forgiven and forgotten, Without you move me to remember't with A worse apology. Live and enjoy your sins And the angry gods. Nay, the severest plague I wish you is, that you may die Without one cross (for afflictions commonly teach Virtues to them that know them not while prosperous) Secure, without one thought or sense of a repentance.

AND. Methinks you have a steely temper on, to that Which the other day you wore, when you were More soft than down of bees. But, sir, if you But knew the reason why I've done the action Which you perhaps call treason to our loves, You would forbear such language.

PLAN. Reason! No doubt the man that robs a church, or profanes altars, Hath reason for what he doth: to satisfy your lust, You have that reason, madam.

AND. That I have loved you once, I call Heaven, my own heart, and you to witness; Now, by that love, by all those vows have pass'd Betwixt us, hear me.

PLAN. O Heaven! is that a conjuration! Things you have broke, with as much ease as politicians Do maxims of religion! But I will hear, To know you and to hate you more. Speak on.

AND. You know whilst Leon liv'd, whose due they were, I out of love resign'd my love and honour Unto your----

PLAN. Lust, madam.

AND. I know not, sir: Your eloquence gave it that title then. How many dangers walk'd I fearless through To satisfy your pleasures, your very will-- Nay more, your word--nay, if I thought by sympathy A thought of yours, that I imagin'd you Might blush to speak, I made it straight my own, And work'd and studied as much to put it into act, As doth a gamester upon loss to compass money. At last we were betray'd, sir, to your father's spies, who Denied us afterwards those opportunities we stole Before, befriended by my husband's ignorance. Now was I brought to that which is the worst of ills, A seeing, but not enjoying of that which I held dearest. To see you daily, and to live without you, Was a death many degrees beyond my own. I knew the love was great, so great I durst not own it. Nay more, I knew It was noble too, so noble, I knew My husband being dead, you would not stick To ask your father's leave for public marriage.

PLAN. Heaven and the gods can witness I intended it.

AND. Nay, farther yet, I knew your father's love, Which would not have denied you anything, Would also have granted that.

PLAN. Madam, you riddle strangely.

AND. When I had Forecast these easy possibilities, I yet Foresaw one thing that crossed our designs-- That was a sense of honour I had in me. Methought in honour I could not condescend You should debase yourself so low. It pleas'd me Better to be your mistress than your queen; And stol'n embraces, without the scandal Of a public eye, were sweeter than those Which might bring upon me--for rising greatness Is still envied--the rancour of the people, And consequent distaste[93] against their prince. Sir, now we may act safely what might have Been less secure. Your father's name gives a protection---- Or, if that startle you, we'll call him husband!

PLAN. Are you in earnest?

AND. As serious as love can be.

PLAN. Then I want words to tell you how I hate you: I would sooner meet MegA|ra 'tween a pair of sheets. And can you think I should have so small pity, As to be false unto my father's bed? That I lov'd you once, I confess with shame; And that I should have done so still, had you Preserv'd those flames, I think of now with horror. But for those sins, and whatsoever else I must repent, I shall no doubt have great Occasion, when I shall see th' kingdom Envelop'd in those swarms of plagues your sins Call down, and feel a share of them myself. For heaven's sake, madam! for my father's sake, Nay, for my own, if that have any interest, Learn now at last a virtue, that may make us As happy as much as hitherto unfortunate, And render your story to posterity so burnish'd With your shining goodness, that their eyes may not Perceive the error of your former years. Perhaps I then shall have a reverence for you, As great as any son hath for a father's wife. You wonder, lady, to see me talk thus different From what you saw me half an hour ago. I look'd upon myself as one that had lost A blessing. But heaven hath been happier to me; For I am now so far from thinking you one, That I look upon you as a plague no sin Of good Ephorbas could deserve. But love To you----

AND. Sir!

PLAN. Answer me not in words, but deeds; I know you always talk'd unhappily,[94] And if your heart dare do what's ill, I know it can well teach your tongue excuses.

[_Exit_ PLANGUS.

## SCENE IV.

AND. And is my love then scorn'd? The chaos of eternal night possess my breast, That it may not see to startle at any Undertakings, though they would make Medusa's snakes curl into rings for fear. If greatness have inspired me with thoughts Of a more brave revenge, they shall be acted. A husband's murder was such a puny sin, I blush to speak it; but it was great enough For a merchant's wife: a queen must be more Daring in her revenge, nor must her wrath Be pacifi'd under a whole kingdom's ruin.

## SCENE V.

_Enter_ LIBACER.

My better genius, thou art welcome as A draught of water to a thirsty man: I ne'er had need of thee till now. Muster those devils dwell within thy breast, And let them counsel me to a revenge As great as is my will to act it.

LIB. Madam, leave words. The rest you take In breathing makes your anger cool. Out with it, And if I do it not; if I startle at Any ill to do you service, though it be To kill my mother, let me be troubled with The plague of a tender conscience, and lie Sick of repentance a half year after.

AND. What need I tell thee more? Plangus must die, and after him Ephorbas, Because he is his father.

LIB. Madam, he shall. But give me leave to ask you How he, for whom alone of all the world You had a passion, is now become An object of your hatred so great, as others Must die because they have relation to him?

AND. The air is hot yet with those words I proffer'd him In satisfaction, and he refus'd it. What need I speak? Is't safe that he should live knows so much by us?

LIB. He had been happy had he never known What virtue meant. I wonder that paltry thing Is not banish'd earth, it ne'er did any good yet. Beggary's a blessing to't; whoe'er grew rich By virtue? Madam, we are not troubled with it. But to our business:--I have thought a way. You know his father loves him. 'Tis he shall ruin him, And let's alone for him.

AND. Pish! pish! that cannot be.

LIB. These women are always with their _cannots_. What cannot be? Have you but read The _Sophy_,[95] you will find that Haly (O, how I hug that fellow's name!) ruin'd Great Mirza by his father, and his father by his son. That great politician, while all the court Flam'd round about him, sat secure, and laugh'd, Like those throw fireworks among the waving people That have nothing but fire and smoke about them, And yet not singe one hair. Indeed he fell at last, 'Tis true; but he was shallow in that part o' th' plot. What have we his example [for] but to learn by it? Praise Plangus to Ephorbas then so far, That first he may fear for his kingdom; And if you do proceed till he grew jealous of His bed, 'twill do the better. The king is coming, I must be gone.

[_Exit_ LIBACER.

## SCENE VI.

_Enter_ EPHORBAS.

EPH. How fares Andromana? I'm glad this greatness sits so well about thee; My court was bless'd that hour I knew thee first. We'll live and still grow happy; we shall flourish Like some spreading tree that shall never cease Till its proud height o'erlook the skies. I hope I bad fair for a boy to-night. How happy Should I count myself could I but leave My kingdom something that had thy image in't.

AND. Sir, never think Iberia can be happy in another son, When such a prince as Plangus lives the heir, Who is the subject of all men's pray'rs--nay, The deserver too. There's not a man or woman In the kingdom hath one good wish within their breast But they straight bestow it upon Plangus: A prince whom mothers show their little children As something they should learn betime To worship and admire.

EPH. I know, Andromana; but----

AND. Sir, virtue's perfection Is at the height in him. Whatever after Ages bear, or give the name of worth to, Must, if compar'd to him, be but as foils To set his glory off the brighter. Nor are the men only thus taken with him; There's not a lady in the land but sighs With passion for him, and dreams on him a-nights. Husbands grow jealous of him, yet with joy That they are Plangus' rivals.

EPH. All this is nothing. Men talk'd as loud of me when I was young.

AND. Yea, but they say, sir, you were Not half so mincing in your carriage, nor so majestic. Besides----

EPH. I hope they do not make comparisons.

[_Starts._

AND. Sir, I thought we could not have discours'd on a More welcome theme than what is full of Plangus.

EPH. No more you cannot. Let him as a less star Enjoy his splendour, but it must not be so great To darken me; but, prythee, do they compare us then?

AND. You're discompos'd, sir!--I have done.

EPH. Nay, nothing But the remembrance of a foolish dream--what say they?

AND. Why, sir, some went so far to say, they wonder'd A lady of my years could marry the father, Though a king, when I might have had Plangus himself.

EPH. They did not?

AND. Then I confess I blush'd, and had been out Of temper, but that I thought it might be The court fashion to talk boldly.

EPH. This story jump'd Just with my dream to-night;[96] but methought I saw Him threat'ning to kill me 'cause thou hadst married me---- But the young saucy boy shall know I hold My sceptre strong enough to crush him into atoms. Did they not name Inophilus?

AND. I think they did. He had some share Of praises too; but it was so as gleanings To a loading cart, they sometimes fell beside.

EPH. Then I am satisfied. 'Tis an aspiring youth: 'tis something That unites Plangus and him so. I must Be speedy in resolves.

[_Exit_ EPHORBAS.

## SCENE VII.

AND. Who waits without there?

_Enter_ LIBACER.

O, art thou come? Stay, let me breathe, or else----

LIB. Nay, spare your pains, I know it all; I saw him Drink it with as great greediness as usurers Do unthrifts' lands, or jealous husbands confirm Their cuckoldships by ocular testimony.

AND. It took most rarely, Beyond our hopes. I'll leave the rest to thee, Thou art so fortunate in all designs. Go on and prosper.

LIB. And I'll attend for an opportunity to meet With Plangus, and betray him to ruin As great as unavoidable.

[_Exeunt._

## ACT IV., SCENE 1.

_Enter_ EPHORBAS, _solus_.

EPH. For aught I know, my bed may be the next; Men are not bad by halves, nor doth one mischief Stop a man in his career of sin. There's as much reason i' th' one as th' other. Doth he affect my kingdom, 'cause I'm old? No, that's not it; he knows I must die shortly. 'Tis not a desire of rule, and glory of Their bending knees makes him forget his duty. He may as well covet Andromana, 'cause she's handsome. He satisfies a lust alike in both. Well, let him be My rival in the kingdom; 'tis but what He was born to, and I must leave it him; But for my wife he must excuse me--nay, He shall [_Pauses._]----Yet now I think on't better, The grounds are slender, and my suspicions slight; No evidence against him but the people's love, And that's no fault of his, unless deserving Be a crime. Who is without there?

_Enter_ LIBACER.

Go, call in Plangus, and bid him not stay, For I must speak with him.

[_Exit_ KING.

## SCENE II.

LIB. Nay, then, all's dashed, if once he comes to parley. I must not have them talk. But here he is.

## SCENE III.

_Enter_ PLANGUS.

LIB. All health and happiness attend the prince.

PLAN. Pray, tell me if you saw the king? Be short, for I am very melancholy.

LIB. He parted hence just now, but with such A fury revelling in his looks, there had been Less danger in a basilisk.

PLAN. Went he this way?

LIB. Yes, sir.

[_He is going out, but turns short._

PLAN. But dost not thou know what mov'd him?

LIB. I heard some such words as these: My rival in the kingdom----There's evidence against him---- The people's love----Deserving is a crime---- And somewhat else my fear made me forget.

PLAN. Who was there with him lately?

LIB. I cannot tell: but about a quarter of an hour ago He ask'd for you; and every time he nam'd you He seem'd angry.

PLAN. Named me! thou art mistaken.

LIB. I had almost forgot, sir, I have a message to you from Andromana.

PLAN. I will not hear one syllable.

LIB. No!--so she told me; but charged me to speak it, Or die; for it concerned your life, which she Held dearer than her own.

PLAN. I value it not; but speak the mystery.

LIB. When first her lips began to move, a blush O'erflow'd her face, as if her heart had sent Her tainted blood to seek a passage out. Then with A show'r of tears she told me how inordinate Desires had made her but this morning tempt you To th' acting of a sin she would not name; And that your virtue had so wrought upon her, She had not left one thing unchang'd. She loves you still, but with affection That carries honour and converted thoughts. And next, she bad me whisper in your ear (For time was short) that, if you lov'd her or yourself, Or intended to cherish the people's growing hopes, You should not come when the king sent for you, For something had incensed him so highly Against you, that there was mighty danger in it. She bad me haste, for time would not permit her To say more. I was scarce out o' th' chamber, When your father came and ask'd for you, and bad Me seek you out with speed. Sir, I should be Most proud to serve you.

PLAN. I thank thee, friend; But prythee, tell thy mistress Innocence knows no fear: 'tis for guilty souls To doubt their safety. If she would have me safe, My only way is by present appearance to clear Myself; for I believe my false accusers Wish nothing more than that I should be absent.

LIB. The devil's in him, sure, he guesseth so right.

[_Aside._

She told me so, sir, and would have wish'd you to it; But that there was a way to serve you better by. She say'th Ephorbas told her, a few minutes hence He'd call a council, where they'd consult about you. The place is hang'd so, that behind the wall, sir, You may stand secure, and hear what passeth; And according to what they determine, you may Provide for your safety; only for more security She wisheth you would arm yourself. Sir, pray resolve: She'll pacify the king, that you appear Not presently.

PLAN. Well I will be persuaded: Tell her, I am resolv'd I will not come.

LIB. Happiness attend you! Half an hour hence I'll wait Upon you.

[_Exit_ LIBACER.

PLAN. We shall reward thee.

## SCENE IV.

PLAN. Whence should this kindness come? and on a sudden too? A strange alteration! She who a day ago Forgot the vows her soul was fetter'd in, And but this morning tempted me to a sin I can scarce think on without fear, should on An instant be careful for my safety, and That from a principle of virtue too!

## SCENE V.

_Enter_ INOPHILUS.

INO. Who was that with you, sir, just now?

PLAN. An honest fellow certainly, but one I know not.

INO. An honest fellow call you him? If he have not rogue writ in great letters in's face, I have no physnomy.[97] Pray, sir, what was His business to you?

PLAN. A message from Andromana Who, out of love, desires me not to go to My father, because something hath put him in A fume against me.

INO. Did the king send for you?

PLAN. He did so.

INO. But upon her entreaty you forbore to go?

PLAN. What then?

INO. Then you are mad, sir. And tacitly conspire to your own ruin. Do, take an enemy's advice, and die, the object Both of their joy and scorn. Where are Your senses, sir, or pray, whence springs This friendship of Andromana's? Alas! you should not Measure her malice by the smallness of your own. She has injur'd you, she knows it, sir; and though At present she enjoys her treachery, she may Soon fall beside it; Ephorbas is not immortal, Nor can she promise to herself security, When you have power to call her ills in question. Were't nothing else, her safety would make her To plot your death. I hinder you in talking; But pray begone, and when you see your father, Speak boldly to him, or you're gone for ever.

PLAN. I tell thee once again, Inophilus, Since I have said I would not go Both heaven and thee shall want a motive To make me stir one foot. Were danger just Before me, running with open jaws upon me; And had my word been giv'n to remain here, I would be forc'd from life before my place.

INO. Here is a bravery now would make a man Forswear all gallantry! to fool away Your life thus in a humour!-- I met the court just now, sir: as full of whispers, Every man's eyes spoke strong amazement. My father's sent for, with two other lords, Eubulus and Anamedes; and the Court-gates are lock'd. Resolve, sir, and command me something, Wherein I may have an occasion to serve you.

PLAN. Then I resolve to do as I am caution'd. Walk in; I'll tell thee more.

[_Exeunt._

## SCENE VI.

_Enter_ EPHORBAS _and_ LIBACER.

EPH. What was his answer, then?

LIB. "Tell him, I am resolv'd I will not come," Those were the very words, sir.

EPH. 'Twas very pretty [And] resolute, methinks. If he be grown So stubborn already, the next we must expect Is action.

LIB. But yet he bids me, if you Ask'd why he came not, to find some excuse or other.

EPH. He could find none himself then? Call in The lords: we must be sudden in our execution. But prythee, one thing more: who was there with him?

LIB. Nobody; But I met going to him young Inophilus; And heard one servant tell another in great haste, Their lord would speak with some o' the captains o' the army.

[_Exit._

## SCENE VII.

_Enter_ RINATUS, EUBULUS, _and_ ANAMEDES.

EPH. Sit down, my lords, we have business with you Requires your hands and hearts, both speed and counsel. Our danger's such, that I could wish't had flown Upon us without warning, for so cross the fates are, Our safety must be bought at such a price, That we must lose what is as dear to us Almost as it. 'Tis Plangus' death or mine Must secure the other's life. Nay, startle not: If I am grown as wearisome to you as To him, your calling is in vain, my lords; Nor shall I labour longer to preserve A life denied me by the gods and you. But if there's any here who hath a son Brought to these years with so much care and love As mine hath been, think what a grief it is To lose him, and shed one tear with me. But for that son to plume himself with feathers Pluck'd from his father's wings, would melt one's eyeballs. Yet Plangus, who hath vizarded his ends with virtue, Finding it useless now, hath thrown it from him, And openly attempts my crown and life. When mischief's wheel once runs, how fast it speeds Headlong to put in act the blackest deeds! Were my crown his, had he my life to give, Though he would let me, I would scorn to live.

EUB. Sir, we are called upon a great affair, and if it Be true, the speed of our resolves Shall be as great as it. Your majesty hath reign'd so happily and long, We will not think a time beyond it. And such, so great your virtue still hath been, Strangers have been enamour'd, and admir'd it. Our enemies, that could have wish'd it less, Yet have sat down with envy, nor attempted Aught against you, knowing (I am confident) By such unjust attempts the gods would be Their foes. Methinks 'tis therefore much less likely That Plangus, who hath hitherto been found A miracle of filial piety, and one That we may say was born the heir to all Your virtues, all your goodness, as well as The kingdom; who counts it glory as much To be an honest man as a great prince: I say, for him who, as he is your son, And as we hitherto have found him full Of worth and honour, we cannot but behold As him in whom the spreading hopes of all Iberia grow, and promise to themselves A still green happiness, that ne'er shall know, What autumn or a naked winter means. For him that hath scarce yet put off Those clothes, which still wear the badges Of the great danger he was in, not for Himself, my liege, but you and us; for had He wish'd the ruin of his father and his country, The Argives would have done that for him, And he not have been call'd in question. But when we must remember with what wings He flew to meet the torrent, both against The counsel of his friends and his own hopes; How love to you and us spurr'd him on forward To those impossibilities, which nothing But love and valour durst have attempted, Why then, methinks, 'tis strange, yea, very strange, Thus in a moment t' have flung all nature off And all religion; and that, sir, against you, Whom we all well know and think with fear (But our fading hopes spring fresh from Plangus), Must shortly pay your tribute to the grave. Nor that we doubt your majesty hath cause To apprehend a danger; only 'tis wish'd, Those who inform'd you were examin'd strictly, And Plangus sent for to answer for himself. Slanders, like mists, still vanish at the sight Of innocents, who bring their lies to light.

EPH. If an oration could have made him clear, No doubt my fears are vain, and we shall lie Still sleeping in security as great And lasting as Plangus and his accomplices Can wish upon us, nor wake till we are bound In the securest chains, death's fetters. That I am old is true, and Plangus knows it. He would have catch'd a cannon-bullet sooner Else 'tween his naked hands, than have provok'd My fury: but [old] age hath froze[n] me To an icy numbness: yet shall he know My veins have fire as well as his, and when Incens'd, my eyes shoot as much poison too. What you allege about his battle 'gainst the Argives As an excuse, it is a proof against him. Though thieves rob others, yet they fight themselves For those that rob, when strangers set on them, And all unite against a common enemy. Had Plangus' private interest not held Him to us, no doubt he'd [have] left us naked Of all defence; but an intestine fury, To see the Argives bear away the fruits Of all his labours, all his treasons, Shot him into despair, and made him play A game was almost lost, rather than give all o'er. Besides, that action hath endear'd him to the people; Gain'd him the soldiers' hearts with so great ease, The danger's nothing in respect o' th' rise He takes from hence to climb up to his ends. And for the virtue that hath gull'd us all, I'd blush to speak it, that a son of mine Should ever be so base to seek a cloak For what he doth, but that I have disclaim'd All my relations to him, and would adopt A cannibal sooner for a son than he. The evidence we have is what we wish were less, Then might I hug my Plangus, and he me; But since the Fates and his own ills deny That intercourse, what can remain, But that we should proceed to sentence Speedy as themselves, and stop the ill, which may Strike when 'tis night, or while 'tis call'd to-day? He knows his guilt too well, and hath denied To come, that so he might be justified: Once disobey'd as father, the next thing Will be rebellion to me as his king.

## SCENE VIII.

_Enter_ LIBACER.

RIN. As sure as death, this is one of the rogues That hath his roguery to act, and comes in like Something that hath brought news in th' latter end Of a play. Now shall we have some strange discovery-- How the rogue stares!

LIB. No sooner had we shut the gates, my liege, Than an uncertain rumour spread among the people That Plangus was in danger. When, if you ever saw a hive of bees: How, if you stir but one, the whole swarm moves, And testify their anger; so straight whole crowds Of people, the greatest half not knowing what They came for, swarm'd to the gates, and with confus'd Cries hinder'd themselves from being understood; Till some having divers times cried _Plangus_: [And] some _their prince_: all with one note, made up A common voice, and so continued, till some Captains, with one or two selected troops, made up To them, and having promised them they would Secure the prince, desir'd them to withdraw. And when they came so nigh as to be heard, They did in earnest what the other had Attempted with such[98] noise, and fail'd in; For they told the porter, in plain soldier's language, They would either see Plangus safe, or force The gates upon him. He, in this exigence, Hath sent to know your pleasure.

EPH. How say you now, my lords? where is The innocence, the love to you and us? For my part, I will meet the danger; Tame expectation is beneath a king. Only let me entreat you to see my queen safe. 'Tis pity she should smart who hath no sin To answer for but calling me her husband. Plangus, Iberia shall be thine; but with curses O' th' angry gods, and a kind injur'd dying father.

[_He goes to stab himself_, RINATUS _stays him_.

RIN. Heav'n bless you, sir, what a despair is this? Because you hate a hangman, you will be Your executioner yourself. Believe me, That which presents so great danger to you, I look upon with joy. There is no subject That loves you or the prince, but must be glad To see the zeal Iberians bear to a true virtue, When bending under an unjust oppression; No doubt their love had been as great to you, Had you been in like danger. Besides, my lord, You are not sure 'tis with the prince's consent, The soldiers do this. My life for yours, you will Be safe, let the worst come. Let us Go meet your fears.

[_They begin to rise, when at the instant_ ANDROMANA _enters undressed, and in a fright_.

AND. Happy am I, my lord,

[_She weeps._

This sudden flight[99] hath rescu'd me from being Made the subject of some villain's lust, who With his sword drawn just now was forcing me To lewd embraces; if you command to search the court, He cannot be far hence, for he ran that way.

RIN. O impudence! That durst attempt a sin darkness and woods Have too many eyes for in the open court.

[PLANGUS _stirs behind the hangings_.

I shall be with you. The devil hath Armour on!

[RINATUS _draws, and runs at him_.

EPH. Drag him to torture----

[_They fetch him out._

My son! why have I liv'd to see this? Away with him to death; the air will grow infectious. Why stay you?

## SCENE IX.

_Enter_ ZOPIRO _and_ INOPHILUS, _with Soldiers_.

INO. Unhand the prince, or else by heav'n he treads Into his grave that moves a foot to touch him. Madam, though Plangus' noble self was blind, And could not see the deep black darkness of Your hellish actions, his friends had eyes about them. Was this your love? this your repentance? This your advice, your counsel? Had I, I must confess,[100] And these his noble friends, been[101] rul'd by him, ere this He'd been a sacrifice to your revenge and you. Why stand you mute, sir? Want you a tongue to justify Your innocence our swords and we maintain? And now, my liege, we turn to you, whom we Have serv'd as truly as e'er subjects did Any prince alive; and whilst you're worthy, we Will do so still; but we'll be no man's slaves Alive, much less be his that is another's, While this base witch (for so she is) constrains You to do actions children would blush at, And wise men laugh at, which will after leave you Both to repentance and despair. This beggar, whom T'other day you took up as some lost thing, Gave your honour to, and in that our safety; That knew less to be good than devils do, And hath ills lodged in her that would make hell Beyond that the furies dwell in, Banish her hence, send her to some place Where murders, rapines, or sins yet Unheard of do inhabit, and where she can Do us no mischief. Do you betake yourself To your former virtue, and restore the prince To those affections you once had for him. We then perhaps may live to see Iberia happy.

EPH. Why am I forc'd thus to declare his shame, Which at the bound strikes me, and's made my own? You know not how well Plangus can dissemble: He is an hypocrite, I need not tell you more, Those three syllables comprehend all ill. My queen just now 'scaped from his base attempt, Wherein he would have forc'd her to have damn'd Herself and him, and dishonoured me. What meant that armour on, and why so guarded? Where was a danger threat'ned him? or doth he Think his conscience could not sting him through it? I wish, my lords,[102] he might live. But, as nature That, as he is my son, bids me preserve him; So honour, which pleads to the king stronger Than nature can, tells me, for that very reason, I can less pardon him than something born A stranger to my blood. But I deserve To die, as well as he. If he be grown A burden to the earth, I am so too, That gave the monster being. Wherefore Let me be drawn to execution too, For fathers are guilty of their children's ills.

INO. Would Plangus then have forc'd Andromana? Yes, so would Daphne have ravish'd Phoebus! I'll undertake goats are less salt than she. But for his armour:--can any man that breathes One common air with her not need an armour? Brass walls can't be security enough. Why speak you not, sir? are you dumb too?

PLAN. 'Tis for them to speak are sure to be believ'd, And not for him that is condemn'd as guilty. Words can excuse slight faults. If mine are esteem'd such, that all my actions, A speaking duty of one-and-twenty years, Speak not enough to clear me, silence shall. I've no more to say, therefore, but To bid you do your duty to the king, And ask him pardon for this[103] intemperate zeal: Heav'n knows I wish'd it not, nor would I buy My safety at one of my father's angry thoughts, Much less his fears, for those I fall by. Obey my father, and if ye love me, gentlemen, Shed not one tear for Plangus. For I am timely taken from those plagues This woman's crying sins must bring upon Iberia, and make you wish that you Had died as soon and innocent as I.

AND. That I was nothing, I confess; that what I am, I owe to Ephorbas; nay, that the greatness I am now in tells me it is too high To be secure, my fears bear witness. I wish my life would excuse Plangus his; at least My blood wash off the blackness of his guilt, Heav'n knows it should not be one minute, ere He should be restor'd to his former virtues; But since it cannot be, I'll in and weep-- Not for myself, but him.

[_Exit._

INO. Millions of plagues go with thee. Sir [_To_ PLANGUS], you shall Along with us; we will not trust you Or to the king or her.

[_Exeunt._

## ACT V., SCENE 1.

LIBACER _solus_.

LIB. What politician was there ever yet Who, swimming through a sea of plots and treasons, Sank not at last i' th' very haven's mouth? And shall I do so too? No, my thoughts prompt me, I shall be told in story, as the first That stood secure upon the dreadful ruins He had thrown down beneath him. Yet I'm nigh The precipice I strive to shun with so much care. I have betray'd Plangus, 'tis true, and still Have found a growing fortune; but so long As jealousy binds up Ephorbas' thoughts From searching deeper, deeper, 'tis not well That Plangus lives at all: though he be disgrac'd. H' has friends enow about the king, and they Will find a time to pacify him, which will be My undoing. He must not therefore live. Andromana is of that mind too; But how to compass it? or when perhaps I have, what will become of me? Nothing more usual than for those folks, who Have by sinister means reach'd to the top O' th' mountain of their hopes, but they throw down And forget the power that rais'd them; indeed Necessity enforceth them, lest others climb By the same steps they did, and ruin them. I must not therefore trust her womanship, Who, though I know she cannot stand without Me now; yet, when she's queen alone, Fortune may alter her, and make her look Upon me as one whose life whispers Unto her own guilt. 'Tis not safe to be The object of a princess' fear; then she will find Others will be as apt to keep her up As I to raise her. I'll prevent her first. Time is not ripe yet; but when it is (for I must walk on with her a little farther) I will unravel all this labyrinth ev'n To the king himself. Then let her accuse me, Though she should damn herself to hell, I know she'll be believ'd no more Than Plangus hath been hitherto. Thus shall I still grow great, though all the world Be to a dreadful ruin madly hurl'd.

[_Exit._

## SCENE II.

PLANGUS _solus_.

PLAN. I can no longer hold; 'tis not i' th' power Of fate to make me less. Bid me outstare The sun, outrun a falling star, Feed upon flames, or pocket up the clouds; Or if there be a task mad Juno's hate Could not invent to plague poor Hercules, Impose it upon me, I'll do't without a grudge. Condemn me to a galley, load me with chains Whose weight may so keep me down, I can scarce Swell under my burden to let out a sigh, I would o'ercome all. Were there a deity That men adore, and throw their prayers upon, That would lend just ears to human wishes, I would grow great by being punished, and be A plague myself, so that when people curs'd Beyond invention, to their prodigious rhetoric This epiphonema should be added, "Become as miserable as wretched Plangus." I have been jaded, basely jaded, By those tame fools, honour and piety, And now am wak'd into revenge, breathing forth ruin To those first spread this drowsiness upon My soul. A woman! O heaven, had I been gull'd By anything had borne the name of man! But this will look so sordidly in story: I shall be grown discourse for grooms and footboys, Be balladed, and sung to filthy tunes. But do I talk still? well, I must leave this patience. And now, Ephorbas, Since thou hast wrought me to this temper, I'll be reveng'd with as much skill as thou Hast injur'd me. I will to these presently, for My hour-glass shall not run ten minutes longer, And having kill'd myself before thee, I'll pluck my heart out, tell thee all My innocence, and leave thee hemm'd in with A despair thicker than Egyptian darkness. I know thou canst not choose but die for grief. But here he is.

[_Exit._

## SCENE III.

EPHORBAS _solus_.

EPH. Riddle on[104] riddle! I have dream'd this night Plangus was cloth'd, like innocence, all white; And Andromana then methought was grown So black, nothing but all one guilt was shown. What shall I do? Shall I believe a dream? Which is a vapour borne along the stream Of fancy, and sprung up from the gross fumes Of a full stomach, sent to th' upper rooms O' th' brain by our ill genius, to spoil our sight, And cloud our judgments like a misty night. Why do I doubt? 'tis ominous to stay Demurring, when the way is plain. Is day Or night best to judge colours? shall I stand, Trying the water's soundness, when the land Presents firm footing? Truth by day appears, And I from tapers hope to find my fears Oppos'd. And yet methinks 'tis very strange, A son of mine should suddenly thus change, And throw his nature off; I did not so When I was young. I am resolv'd to know The truth, and clear this mist from 'fore my eyes, If't can be done by care, by gold, or spies.

[_Exit._

## SCENE IV.

ANDROMANA _sola_.

AND. So badgers dig the holes, and foxes live in them. Of all factors, state-factors are the worst, And get least to themselves of all their labour. This Libacer Is wading to the throat in blood to do me Service. Tame fool! can he imagine I Remove a husband and a son, to suffer him To live still and upbraid my ills?

_Enter_ LIBACER.

LIB. It is resolv'd. But here she is, I must speak fairly for awhile.

AND. How doth it succeed now, my darling? Shall we be great? [be] great alone?

LIB. As great as pride and fulness of revenge Can swell us. Hark in your ear, madam, I'll tell you all our plot; but softly, for Perhaps the jealous walls may echo back The treason.

[_They whisper._

## SCENE V.

_Enter_ PLANGUS _with his sword drawn_.

PLAN. I bore whil[e]st I could; but now 'tis grown Too great to be contain'd in human breast, And it shall out, though hoop'd with walls of brass. Are they at it? I stood once listening At their entreaty; this time at my own I'll stand and hearken.

[_Steps aside._

AND. 'Tis impossible.

LIB. I tell you, no. I'll aggravate the injuries, And tell him how basely poor it was for A father to betray his son so.

AND. His piety shall never----

LIB. But his fury shall. I'll stab the king himself, and bring Those witnesses shall swear 'twas Plangus.

PLAN. Nay, then, 'tis time to strike-- There, carry thy intents to hell.

[_He stabs_ LIBACER.

AND. Help! murder, murder! a rape, a rape!

_Enter_ EPHORBAS.

EPH. What dismal note was that?

AND. Sir, there You see your martyr, whose force being Too weak to save my honour, his fidelity Was greater, and [has] died a royal sacrifice, Offer'd by th' impious hand of that vile man.

EPH. O heav'n! doth not the earth yet gape and swallow thee? Thy life shall be my crime no longer; I gave it thee, And thus resume it with a thousand curses.

[_He stabs_ PLANGUS.

PLAN. Sir, I at length am happy to the height Of all my wishes. I'm a-going suddenly

[_Faints._

From all my troubles, all your fears; but I Will tell my story first-- How you have wrong'd, and been wronged yourself. This woman, to be short, hath twin'd Like ivy with my naked limbs, before She married you, and would--O, In spite of death I will go on--have tempted me To bed her since. Upon refusal, she Turned her love to hate, and plots my ruin, And next your death--I can no more--I kill'd The instrument--farewell, forgive me.

[_Dies._

EPH. Can this be true, Andromana?

AND. Do you believe it?

EPH. I wish I had not cause----

AND. Sir, every syllable was true he told you; Whose words I thus confirm.

[_She takes_ PLANGUS'S _dagger, flings it at_ EPHORBAS, _and kills him_.

EPH. I'm slain! mercy, Heaven!

_Enter_ INOPHILUS.

AND. You should have come a little sooner.

INO. Do I see well? or is the prince here slain?

AND. He is, and 'cause you love him, Carry that token of my love to him.

[_Stabs_ INOPHILUS.

I know he'll take it kindly that you take So long a journey only to see him.

INO. It was the devil struck, sure, A woman could not do it.--Plangus, O!

[_Dies._

## SCENE VI.

_Enter_ RINATUS, EUBULUS, ANAMEDES.

RIN. Heav'n defend us! what a sight is here? The king, The prince, both slain? what, and my son too? Only this woman living? Speak out, [thou] Screech-owl, witch, how came they by their deaths!

AND. By me; how else?

RIN. Let's torture her.

AND. I can Prevent you; I wouldn't live a minute longer Unless to act my ills again, for all Iberia.

[_Stabs herself._

I have lived long enough to boast an act, After which no mischief shall be new----

[_Dies._

RIN. Let's in, and weep our weary lives away; When this is told, let after-ages say, But Andromana none could have begun it, And none but Andromana could have done it.

[_Exeunt._

* * * * *

LADY ALIMONY.

_EDITION._

_Lady Alimony; or, The Alimony Lady. An Excellent Pleasant New Comedy. Duly Authorized, daily Acted, and frequently Followed._

Nolumus amplexus sponsales; A|ra novellos Nocte parent Socios, qui placuere magis.

LUCRET.

_London, Printed by Tho. Vere and William Gilbertson, and are to be sold at the Angel without New-gate, and at the Bible in Gilt-spur-street._ 1659. 4^o.

This piece is now first reprinted from the original edition. It is a curious and peculiar production, and was perhaps written twenty or twenty-five years before the date which appears on the title-page. Its attribution jointly to Thomas Lodge and Robert Greene is one of those alike silly and capricious affiliations of our earlier bibliographers, which sometimes scarcely seem as if they were seriously intended. From a passage at p. 281, it is readily apparent that it was not in existence till after 1633.

The interest and point of the present play principally depend on a vivid description of the doings of certain ladies of pleasure, or _bona-robas_, who are styled Ladies Alimony. The peculiarity of the piece in point of structure and character may be thought, perhaps, to go some way in atoning for its occasional licentiousness.

A considerable number of uncommon phrases are scattered through "Lady Alimony;" some of them are not noticed by our glossographers.

THE ACTORS PERSONATED IN THIS DRAMATIC.

EUGENIO, _the duke_.

SIR AMADIN PUNY, } SIR JASPER SIMPLETON, } SIR ARTHUR HEARTLESS, } _cashiered consorts_. SIR GREGORY SHAPELESS, } SIR TRISTRAM SHORTTOOL, } SIR REUBEN SCATTERGOOD, }

MADAM FRICASE, } MADAM CAVEARE, } MADAM JULIPPE, } _alimony ladies_. MADAM JOCULETTE, } MADAM MEDLER, } MADAM TINDER, }

FLORELLO, } CARANTO, } PALISADO, } _the ladies' Platonic confidants_. SALIBRAND, } MORISCO, } TILLYVALLY, }

GALLERIUS, _ghost_. TIMON, _the composer_. TRILLO, _the censor_. SIPARIUS, _the book-holder_.

_Chorist, Constable, Watch, Country Boors, Trepanners, Pages, with other Officials._

_The Scene, Seville._

LADY ALIMONY.

## ACT I., SCENE 1.

_Enter_ TRILLO.

TRIL. Hey, boys! never did my spirit chirp more cheerfully since I had one. Here is work for Platonics. Never did ladies, brave buxom girls, dispense at easier rates with their forfeited honours. This were an excellent age for that Roman Carvilius to live in, who never loved any sheets worser than those his wife lay in, nor his wife any lodging worse than where her decrepit consort slept in. Divorces are now as common as scolding at Billingsgate. O Alimony, Alimony! a darling incomparably dearer than a sear-icy bed, possessed of the spirit of a dull, inactive husband! A fresh flowery spring and a chill frosty winter never suit well together. He were a rare justice, in these times of separation, who had the ceremonial art to join hearts together as well as hands; but that chemical cement is above the alchemy of his office or verge of his ministerial charge. Heyday! who comes here? The very professed smock-satyr or woman-hater in all Europe; one who, had he lived in that state, or under that zone, might have compared with any Swetnam[105] in all the Albion Island.

## SCENE II.

_Enter_ TIMON, SIPARIUS, _and a_ PAGE.

But, sure, he has some high design in hand; he pores so fixedly upon the ground, as on my life he has some swingeing stuff for our fresh Dabrides, who have invested themselves in the Platonic order, and retain courage enough to make an exchange of their old consorts with their new confidants and amorous pretenders. Let us hear him; he mumbles so strangely, he must surely either disburthen [him]self, or stifle his teeming birth for want of timely delivery.

TIM. Good, as I live, wondrous good! this is the way to catch the old one. Be all things ready, Siparius?

SIP. How do you mean, sir?

TIM. What a drolling bufflehead is this! He has been book-holder to my revels for decades of years, and the cuckoldry drone, as if he had slept in Trophonius' cave all his days, desires to know my meaning in the track of his own calling! Sir, shall I question you in your own dialect? Be your stage-curtains artificially drawn, and so covertly shrouded as the squint-eyed groundling[s] may not peep into your discovery?

SIP. Leave that care to me, sir; it is my charge.

TIM. But were our bills posted, that our house may be with a numerous auditory stored? our boxes by ladies of quality and of the new dress crowdingly furnished? our galleries and ground-front answerably to their pay completed?

SIP. Assure yourself, sir, nothing is a-wanting that may give way to the poet's improvement.

TIM. Thou sayest well; this is indeed the poet's third day, and must raise his pericranium deeply steeped in Frontiniac, a fair revenue for his rich Timonic fancy; or he must take a long adieu of the spirit of sack and that noble napry till the next vintage. But, Siparius----

SIP. Your will, sir?

TIM. Be sure that you hold not your book at too much distance. The actors, poor lapwings, are but pen-feathered; and once out, out for ever. We had a time, indeed--and it was a golden time for a pregnant fancy--when the actor could embellish his author, and return a pA|an to his pen in every accent; but our great disaster at CannA|, than which none ever more tragical to our theatre, made a speedy despatch of our rarest Rosciuses, closing them jointly in one funeral epilogue. Now for you, boy: as you play the chorus, so be mindful of your hint. I know you to be a wag by nature, and you must play the waggish actor.

PAGE. I shall not sleep in my action, sir, if your line have so much life as to provoke a laughter. I shall not strangle the height of your conceit with a dull gesture; nor weaken the weight of your plot with too flat or unbecoming a deportment.

TIM. Thou promisest fairly; go on.

TRIL. And so does Timon too, or his judgment fails him. Well, I will accost him.--Health to our stock of stoical wit, ingenious Timon! Come, sir, what brave dramatic piece has your running Mercury now upon the loom? The title of your new play, sir?

TIM. Every post may sufficiently inform you; nay, the fame of the city cannot choose but echo it to you, so much is expected. Neither shall you discover a mouse peeping out of a mountain, believe it.

[Sidenote: _Nulla fides spectanda feris, nec gratia victis._]

TRIL. No, nor a monkey dancing his tricotee on a rope, for want of strong lines from the poet's pen.

[Sidenote: _Corpora distendunt versibus affanda nefandis._]

TIM. You are i' th' right on't, Trillo. These pigmies of mine shall not play the egregious puppies in deluding an ignorant rabble with the sad presentment of a roasted savage.

[Sidenote: _Tempora sunt Cuculi gratissima labilis anni;_]

TRIL. Your conceit is above the scale of admiration. But the subject of your invention, sir? Where may you lay your scene; and what name [do] you bestow upon this long-expected comedy?

[Sidenote: _Cornua sunt sponsis trista, lA|ta procis._--Auson.]

TIM. My scene, Trillo, is Horn Alley: the name it bears is "Lady Alimony." The subject I shall not preoccupate. Let the fancies of my thirsty auditory fall a-working; if ever their small expense confined to three hours' space were better recompensed, I will henceforth disclaim my society with a happy genius, and bestow the remainder of my time in catching flies with Domitian.

TRIL. Excellent, excellent! I am confident your acrimonious spirit will discurtain our changeable taffeta ladies to a hair.

TIM. Thou knowest my humour, and let me perish if I do not pursue it. Thou hast heard, no doubt, how I never found any branch more pleasingly fruitful, nor to my view more grateful, than when I found a woman hanging on it; wishing heartily that all trees in mine orchard bore such fruit.

TRIL. If your wish had proved true, no doubt but your orchard would have rendered you store of medlars. But your hour, sir, your hour.

TIM. You know, Trillo, our theatral time to a minute. One thing I must tell you, and you will attest it upon our presentment, that never was any stage, since the first erection of our ancient Roman amphitheatres, with suitable properties more accurately furnished, with choicer music more gracefully accommodated, nor by boys, though young, with more virile spirits presented.

TRIL. I'm already noosed in your poetical springe, and shall henceforth wish, for your sake, that all crop-eared histriomastixes, who cannot endure a civil, witty comedy, but by his racked exposition renders it downright drollery, may be doomed to Ancyrus, and skip there amongst satyrs for his rough and severe censure.

TIM. Parnassus is a debtor to thee, Trillo, for thy clear and serene opinion of the Muses and their individual darling; of which, meaning to imprint our addresses all the better in your memory, our stage presents ever the most lively and lovely fancy:--

"Where th' stage breathes lines, scenes, subject, action fit, Th' age must admire it, or it has no wit."

TRIL. Yet I have heard, Timon, that you were sometimes stoical, and could not endure the noise of an interlude, but snuff at it, as the satyr did at the first sight of fire.

TIM. All this is most authentically true; but shall I unbosom myself ingeniously[106] to thee, my dear Trillo? As his hate to woman made Eupolis eat nettle pottage, so became I fired in my spirit. My experience of a shrew drove me to turn the shrewd comedian; and yet all our boxes are stored with complete doxies; nay, some, whose carriage give life to this day's action.

TRIL. May the poet's day prove fair and fortunate! Full audience and honest door-keepers. I shall, perchance, rank myself amongst your gallery-men.

TIM. We shall hold our labours incomparably heightened by the breath of such approved judgments.

_Enter_ MESSENGER.

MES. Sir, here is a proud, peremptory, pragmatical fellow, newly come into our tiring-room, who disturbs our preparation, vowing, like a desperate haxter,[107] that he has express command to seize upon all our properties.

TIM. The devil he has! What furious Mercury might this be?

MES. Nay, sir, I know not what he may be; but, sure, if he be what he seems to be, he can be no less than one of our city Hectors; but I hope your spirit will conjure him, and make him a Clinias. He speaks nothing less than braving, buff-leather language, and has made all our boys so feverish, as if a quotidian ague had seized on them.

TIM. Sure, it is one of our trepanning decoys, sent forth for a champion to defend those ladies' engaged honour, whom our stage is this day to present! This shall not serve their turn. Call him in; we will collar him.

TRIL. Ha-ha-ha! This will prove rare sport, to see how the poet's genius will grapple with this bawdry!

## SCENE III.

_Enter_ HAXTER.

HAX. Sir!

TIM. Surly sir, your design?

HAX. To ruin your design, illicentiate playwright. Down with your bills, sir.

TIM. Your bill cannot do it, sir.

HAX. But my commission shall, sir. Can you read, sir?

TIM. Yes, sir, and write too, else were I not fit for this employment.

[_He reads the paper._

TRIL. With what a scurvy, screwed look the myrmidon eyes him! He will surely bastinado our comedian out of his laureate periwig. Hold him tug, poet, or thou runs thy poetical pinnace on a desperate shelf!

TIM. What bugbear has your terrible bladeship brought us here? A mandate from one of our own society to blanch the credit of our comedy! You're in a wrong box, sir; this will not do't.

HAX. You dare not disobey it!

TIM. Dare not! A word of high affront to a professed Parnassian! I dare exchange in pen with you and your penurious poetaster's pike; and if your valour or his swell to that height or heat as it will admit no other cooler but a downright scuffle, let wit perish and fall a-wool-gathering, if with a cheerful brow I leave not the precious rills of Hippocrene, and wing my course for Campus Martius.

HAX. 'Slid, this MusA|us is a Martialist; and if I had not held him a feverish white-livered staniel,[108] that would never have encountered any but the Seven Sisters, that knight of the sun[109] who employed me should have done his errand himself. Well, I would I were out of his clutches! The only way, then, is to put on a clear face, lest I bring a storm upon myself. [_Aside._] Virtuous sir, what answer will your ingenuity be pleased to return by your most humble and obsequious vassal?

TIM. Ho! sir, are you there with you[r] bears? How this Gargantua's spirit begins to thaw! Sirrah, you punto[110] of valour!

HAX. I have, indeed, puissant sir, been in my time rallied amongst those blades; but it has been my scorn of late to engage my tuck upon unjust grounds.

TIM. Tucca, thy valour is infinitely beholden to thy discretion. But, pray thee, resolve me: art thou made known to the purport of thine errand?

HAX. In