The heire an excellent comedie. As it was lately acted by the Company of the Reuels. / Writren [sic] by T.M. Gent..

Author: May, Thomas, 1595-1650.1622

THE HEIRE AN EXCELLENT COMEDIE.

As it was lately Acted by the Company of the Reuels.

Writren by T. M. Gent.

LONDON, Printed by B. A. for Thomas Iones, and are to bee sold at his shop in Chancery-lane, ouer-against the Roles, and in Westminster Hall.

[Page]

[Page]


TO MY HONOVRED friend, master 
Thomas May, vpon his Comedy, 
The Heire.THe Heire being borne, was in his tender age
Rockt in the Cradle of a priuate Stage,
Where lifted vp by many a willing hand,
The child doth from the first day fairely stand,
Since, hauing gathered strength, he dares preferre
His steps into the publicke Theater
The World: where he dispaires not but to find
A doome from men more able, but lesse kind.
I but his Vsher am, yet if my word
May passe, I dare be bound he will afford
Things must deserue a welcome, it well knowne
Such as best writers would haue wisht their owne.
You shall obserue his words in order meete,
And often stealing on, with equall feete
Slide into equall numbers, with such grace
As each word had beene moulded for that place.
You shall perceiue an amorous passion, spun
Into so smooth a web, as had the sunne,
When he pursu'd the swiftly flying Maid,
Courted her in such language she had staid,
A loue so well exprest must be the same,
The Author felt himselfe from his faire flame.
The whole plot doth like it selfe disclose
Through the fiue Acts, as doth a Looke, that goes
With letters, for till euery one be knowne,
The Lock's as fast as if you had found none.
And where his sportiue Muse doth draw a thred
Of mirth, chast Matrons may not blush to reade.


[Page] 
 [...] haue I thought it fitter to reueale

 [...] want of art (deare friend) then to conceale

 [...] It did appea
 [...]e I did not meane

 [...] thy well-wrought Comicke-Sceane,

 [...] might iudge my 
 [...] rather to be,

 [...] my selfe, th
 [...] giue it thee;

 [...] thee none but what thou hast

 [...] ▪ and what must my faint breath outlast.

 [...] this garment (though 
 [...] be

 [...] measure) onely made for thee,

 [...] to 
 [...], 'tis cause th
 [...] stuffe

 [...] allow
 [...]d me, was not large enough.
Thomas Car
 [...]

[Page]

AN EXCELLENT COMEDY CALLED the Heire.

Enter Polimetes, Roscio.

Pol.

ROscio.

Ro.

My Lord.

Pol.

Hast thou divulg'd the newes

That my sonne dy'd at Athens.

Ros.

Yes my Lord,

With euery circumstance, the time, the place,

And manner of his death; that it is beleeu'd

And told for newes with as much confidence

As if twere writ in Gallobelgicus.

Pol.

That's well, that's very well, now Roscio

Followes my part, I must expresse a griefe

Not vsuall, not like a well left heire

For his dead father, or a lusty Widdow

For her old husband, must I counterfeit,

But in a deeper, a farre deeper straine

Weepe like a Father for his onely sonne,

Is not that hard to doe, ha, Roscio?

Ro.

Oh no my Lord,

Not for your skill, has not your Lordship seene

A player personate Ieronimo?

Pol.

By th'masse tis true, I haue seen the knaue paint griefe

In such a liuely colour, that for false

And acted passion he has drawne true teares

From the spectators eyes, Ladyes in the boxes

Kept time with sighes, and teares to his sad accents

As had he truely bin the new man he seemd.

Well then Ile neere dispaire; but tell me thou

Thou that hast still beene priuy to my bosome,

How will this proiect take?

Rosc.

[Page]

Rarely my Lord,

[...]hen now my thinkes, I see your Lordships house

[...] with suitors of the noblest ranke,

And my yong Lady your supposed Heire

[...] more with woing then the Grecian Queene

In the long absence of her wandring Lord.

There [...]s not a ruinous nobility

In all this kingdome, but conceiues a hope

Now to [...]ebuild his fortunes on this match.

Pol.

Those are not they I looke for, no, my ne [...]

Are spread for other game, the rich and greedy

Those that haue wealth enough, yet gape for more

They are for me,

Ros

Others will come my Lord,

All sorts of fish will presse vpon your nets,

Then in your Lordships wisedome it must lie

To cull the great ones, and reiect the frie.

Pol.

Nay feare not that, there's none shall haue accesse

To see my daughter, or to speake to her,

But such as I approue, and ayme to catch.

Ro.

The iest will be, my Lord, when you shall see

How your aspiring suitors will put on

The face of greatnesse, and bely their fortunes

Consume themselues in shew, wasting like Merchants

Their present wealth in rigging a fayre ship

For some ill venture de voyage, that vndoes vm.

Here comes a youth with letters from the Court,

Bought of some fauourite at such a price

As will for euer sinke him, yet alas

[...]all's to no purpose, he must loose the prize.

Pol.

This was a iest well thought of, the conceit

Will feed me fat, with sport that it shall make,

Besides the large aduentures it brings home

Vnto my daughter. How now.

enter seruant

S [...]r.

My Lord, Count Virro is come to see you.

Pol.

Conduct him in; So, so, it takes already

See Roscio see, this is the very man

My proiect aymd at, the rich Count that knowe [...]

[Page]No end of his large wealth, yet gapes for more

There was no other loadstone could attract

His Iron heart, for could beauty haue mou'd him,

Nature has beene no niggard to my girle,

But I must to my griefe, here comes the Count.

Enter Count Virro.

Vir.

Is your Lord a sleepe?

Ro.

No Sir.

I thinke not, my Lord, Count Virro.

Ʋir.

How doe you Sir.

Pol.

I do intreat your Lordship pardon, my griefe and some want of sleepe haue made mee at this time vnmannerly, not fit to entertaine guests of your worth.

Vir

Alas Sir I know your griefe.

Ro.

Twas that that fetcht you hither.

aside.

Vir.

Y'haue lost a worthy and a hopefull sonne,

But heauen that alwayes giues, will sometimes take

And that the best, there is no balsome left vs

To cure such wounds as these but patience,

There's no disputing with the acts of heauen,

But if there were, in what could you accuse

Those powers that else haue beene so liberall to you,

And left you yet one comfort in your age:

A faire and vertuous daughter.

Ros.

Now it beginnes.

Vir.

Your blood is not extinct, nor your age childlesse, from that fayre branch thats left may come much fruite to glad posteritie, thinke on that my Lord.

Pol.

Nay heauen forbid I should repine at what the

Iustice of those powers ordaine, it has pleasd

Them to confine my care onely to one, and to

See her well bestowd is all the comfort I now

Must looke for, but if it had pleasd heauen that

My sonne, ah my Eugenio.

he weepes.

Vir.

Alas good Gentleman.

Ros.

Fore heauen he does it rarely.

Vir,

But Sir, remember your selfe, remember your

Daughter, let not your griefe for the dead make

[Page]You forget the liuing, whose hopes, and fortunes

Depend vpon your safety.

Pol.

Oh my good Lord, you neuer had a soone.

Ros.

Vnlesse they were bastards, and for them no

Doubt but he has done as other Lords do.

Pol.

And therefore cannot tell what tis to loose

A sonne, a good sonne, and an onely sonne.

Vir.

I would, my Lord, I could as well redresse

As I can take compassion of your griefe

You should soone finde an ease.

Pol.

Pray Pardon me my Lord, if I forget my selfe toward you at this time, if it please you visite my house ofter you shall be welcome.

Vir.

You would faine sleepe my Lord, Ile take my leaue [...]auen send you comfort, I shall make bold shortly to visite you.

Pol.

You shall be wondrous welcome,

Wait on my Lord out there.

exit Virr [...].

So now he's gone, how thinkst thou Roscio,

Will not this Gudgeon bite?

Ro.

No doubt my Lord,

So faire a bayte would catch a cunning fish.

Po [...].

And such a one is he, he euer lou'd

The beauty of my girle, but thats not it

Can draw the earth bred thoughts of his grosse soule

Gold is the God of his idolatry,

[...] hope of which Ile feed him, till at length

I make him fasten, and Ixion like

For his lou'd Iuno graspe an empty clowd.

Ros.

How stands my yong Lady affected to him.

Pol.

There's all the difficulty, we must win her to loue [...], I doubt the peeuish Gyrle will thinke him too [...], he's well neere threescore: in this businesse I must [...]eaue somewhat to thy wit and care, prayse him beyond all measure.

Ros.

Your Lordship euer found me trusty.

Pol.

If thou effect it, I will make thee happy.

exeunt

Enter Philocles, Clerimont.

Phi.

[Page]

Eugenios sister then is the rich heire

By his decease.

Cler.

Yes, and the faire one too,

She needs no glosse that fortune can set on her,

Her beauty of it selfe were prize enough

To make a king turne begger for.

Phil.

Hoy day,

What in loue Clerimont, I lay my life tis so,

Thou couldst not praise her with such passion else.

Cler.

I know not, but I slept well enough last night,

But if thou sawst her once, I would not giue

A farthing for thy life, I tell thee Philocles

One fight of her would make thee cry, ay me,

Sigh, and looke pale, me thinkes I do imagine

How like an Idolatrous louer thou wouldst looke

Through the eye-lids, know no body.

Phi.

Tis very well, but how did your worship scape

Youe haue seene her.

Cler.

True, but I haue an

Antidote, and I can teach it thee.

Phi.

When

I haue need on't Ile desire it.

Cler.

And twill

Be worth thy learning, when thou shalt see the

Tyranny of that same seuruy boy, and what fooles

He makes of vs; shall I describe the beast?

Phi.

What beast?

Cler.

A louer.

Phi.

Doe.

Cler.

Then to be briefe, I will passe ouer the opinion of your ancient fathers, as likewise those strange Loues spoken of in the Authenticke histories of chiualrie Amadis du Gaule, Parismus, the Knight of the Sunne, or the witty Knight Don Quixot de la Manca, where those braue men, neither Enchantments, Gyants, Wind-mils, nor flockes of sheepe could vanquish, are made the trophyes of tryumphing loue.

Phi.

Prithee come to the matter.

Cler.

Neither will I mention the complaints of Sir Guy for the faire Phelis, nor the trauels of Parismus for the loue of the beautious Laurana, nor lastly, the most sad pennance of the ingenious knight Don Quixot vpon the mountains of Scienna Morenna, moou [...]d by the vniust disdaine of the Lady Dulcinea del Toboso, [...] or our moderne Authors, I [Page] will not so much as name them, no not that excellent treatise of Tullies Loue, written by the Master of Art.

Phi.

I would thou wouldest passe ouer this passing ouer of Authors, and speake thine owne iudgement.

Cler.

Why then to be briefe, I thinke a Louer lookes like an Asse.

Phi.

I can describe him better then so my selfe, he lookes like a man that had sitten vp at Cards all night, or a stale Drunkard wakened in the middest of his sleepe.

Cler.

But Philocles, I would not haue thee see this Lady, she has a bewitching looke.

Phi.

How darest thou venture man, what strange medicine hast thou found, Ouid neere taught it thee, I doubt I guesse thy remedy, for loue, goe to a bawdy house or so, ist not?

Cler.

Faith, and that's a good way I can tell you, we yonger brothers are beholding to it, alas wee must not fall in loue and choose whom wee like best, wee haue no Ioyntures for vm, as you blest heires can haue.

Phi.

Well I haue found you Sir, and prithee tell me, how got'st thou Wenches?

Cler.

Why I can want no Panders, I lye in the Constables house.

Phi.

And there you may whoore by authority,

But Clerimont, I doubt this Parragon

That thou so praisest, is some il fauoured Wench

Whom thou wouldst haue me laugh at for commending.

Cler.

By heauen I spoke in earnest, trust your eyes,

Ile shew you her.

Phi.

How canst thou doe it?

Thou know'st this Ladies father is to mine

A deadly enemy, nor is his house,

Open to any of our kindred.

Cler.

That's no matter,

My lodging's the next doore to this Lords house,

And my backe Window lookes into his Garden,

There euery morning faire Leucothoe,

(For so I heare her nam'd) walking alone,

To please her senses makes Aurora blush,

To see on brighter then her [...] appeare.

Phi.

Well I will see her the [...] ▪

Exeunt.

[Page]Enter Franklin, Fancisco, Luce grauida.

Franc.

Yet for her sake be aduised better Sir,

Frank.

Impudent Rascall, canst looke me i'th face,

And know how thou hast wrong'd me, thou hast

Dishonoured my Daughter, made a whoore on her.

Franc.

Gentle Sir,

The wrong my loue has made to your faire Daughter

Tis now too late to wish vndone againe,

But if you please, it may be yet clos'd vp

Without dishonour, I will marry her.

Frank.

Marry her, she has a hot catch of that, marry a Begger, what Iointure canst thou make her?

Franc.

Sir I am poore I must confesse,

Fortune has blest you better, but I sweare

By all things that can bind, twas not your wealth

Was the foundation of my true built loue,

It was her single vncompounded selfe,

Her selfe without addition that I lou'd,

Which shall for euer in my sight outweigh

All other womens fortunes, and themselues,

And were I great, as great as I could wish

My selfe for her aduancement, no such barre

As Fortunes inequality should stand

Betwixt our loues.

Luce.

Good Father heare me.

Frank.

Dost thou not blush to call me father, Strumpet Ile make thee an example.

Luce.

But heare me

Sir, my shame will be your owne.

Frank.

No more I say, Francisco leaue my house, I charge You come not heere.

Franc.

I must obey and will,

Deare Luce be constant.

Luce.

Till death

Exit Francisco.

Frank.

Here's a fine wedding towards, the

Bridegroome when he comes for his bride,

[Page]Shall find her great with child by another man,

Passion a me minion, how haue you hid it so long?

Luc.

Fearing your anger Sit, I striu'd to hide it.

Frank.

Hide it one day more then, or be damn'd,

Hide it till Shallow be married to thee,

And then let him do his worst.

Lu.

Sir I should too much wrong him.

Frank.

Wrong him, there bee great Ladies haue done the like, tis no newes to see a bride with childe.

Lu.

Good Sir.

Frank.

Then be wise, lay the child to him, he's a rich man, tother's a beggar.

Lu.

I dare not Sir.

Frank.

Do it I say, and he shall father it.

Lu.

He knowes he neuer touch me Sir.

Frank.

Thats all one, lay it to him, weele out face him tis his: but harke, he is comming, I heare the Musicke, sweare thou wilt doe thy best to make him thinke tis his, sweare quickly.

Lu.

I doe.

Frank.

Go step aside, and come when thy que is, thou shalt heare vs talke.

Luce aside.

Enter Shallow with Musicke.

Sha.

Morrow Father.

Frank.

Sonne bridegroome welcome, you haue beene lookt for here.

Sha.

My Tayler a little disappointed me, but is my Bride ready.

Frank.

Yes long ago, but you and I will talke a little, send in your Musicke.

Sha.

Go wait within, and tell me father, did she not

Thinke it long till I came.

Frank,

I warrant

Her she did, she loues▪ you not a little.

Sha.

Nay that I dare sweare, she has giuen me many

Tasts of her affection.

Frank.

What before you

Were marryed.

Sha.

I meane, in the way

Of honesty father.

Fran.

Nay that I doubt,

Yong wits loue to be trying, and to say

Truth, I see not how a woman can deny a man

Of your youth and person vpon those tearmes,

[Page]Youle not be knowne ont now.

Shal.

I haue kist

Her or so.

Fran.

Come, come, I know you are no

Foole, I should thinke you a very Asse, nay I tell

You plainely, I should be loth to marry my

Daughter to you if I thought you had not tride

Her in so long acquaintance, but you haue tride

Her, and she poore soule could not deny you.

Sha.

Ha ha hae.

Frank.

Faith tell me sonne, tis but a

Merry question, she's yours.

Sha.

Vpon my

Virginity father.

Frank.

Sweare not by that,

Ile nere beleeue you.

Sha.

Why then as I am

A Gentleman I neuer did it that I remember.

Frank.

That you remember, oh ist thereabouts.

Luc.

Heele take it vpon him presently.

Frank.

You haue beene so familiar with her,

You haue forgot the times, but did you neuer

Come in halfe fudled, and then in a kinde humour,

Caetera quis nescit.

Sha.

Indeed I was wont to serue my mothers maide [...] so when I came halfe foxt as you sayd, and then next morning I should laugh to my selfe.

Frank.

Why there it goes, I thought to haue chid you sonne Shallow, I knew what you had done, tis too apparant, I would not haue people take notice of it pray God she hide her great belly as she goes to Church to day.

Sha.

Why father is she with child?

Frank.

As if you knew not that, fie, fie, leaue your dissembling now.

Sha.

Sure it cannot be mine.

Frank.

How's this, you would not make my daughter a whore, would you? this is but to try if you can stirre my choller, your wits haue strange trickes, do things ouer night when you are merry, and then deny vm. But stay, here she comes alone, step aside, she shall not seevs,

they step aside.

Lu.

Ah my deare Shallow, thou needst not haue made

Such hast, my heart thou knowest was firme enough

To thee, but I may blame my owne fond loue,

[Page]That could not deny thee.

Shal.

She's with child indeed, it swels,

Fran.

You would not beleeue me, tis a good wench,

She does it handsomely.

Luc.

But yet I know if

Thou hadst bin thy selfe, thou wouldst neere haue

Offered it, twas drinke that made thee.

Shal.

Yes sure, I was drunke when I did it, for I had

Forgot it▪ I lay my life twill proue a girle

Because twas got in drinke.

Lu.

I am ashamd to see any body.

Frank.

Alas poore wretch, go comfort her, Luce.

Shal.

Sweet heart, nay neuer bee ashamd, I was a little too hasty, but Ile make thee amends, weele bee marryed presently.

Fran.

Be cheery Luce, you were man and wife before, it wanted but the ceremony of the Church, and that shall be presently done.

Shal.

I I, sweet heart, as soone as may be.

Frank.

But now I thinke ont sonne Shallow, your wedding must not now be publicke, as we entended it.

Shal.

Why so?

Frank.

Because I would not haue people take notice of this fault, weele go to Church, onely we three, the Minister and the Cleark, thats witnesses enough, so the time being vnknowne, people will thinke you were marryed before.

Shal.

But will it stand with my worship to be married in priuate.

Frank.

Yes, yes, the greatest do it, when they haue bene [...] before hand, there is no other way to saue your bri [...]es credite.

Shal.

Come lets about it presently.

F [...]ank.

This is closd vp beyond our wishes.

Exeunt, manet Luce.

Luc.

I am vndone, vnlesse, thy wit Francisco,

Can find some meanes to free me from this foole,

Who would haue thought the sot could be so grosse

To take vpon him what he neuer did,

[Page]To his owne shame, Ile send to my Francisco,

And I must loose no time, for I am dead,

If not deliuered from this loathed bed.

Actus secundus.

Enter Philocles, Clerimont at the window.

Cler.

SEE Philocles, yonders that happy shade,

That often vailes the faire Lucothoe,

And this her vsuall howre, sheele not be long,

Then thou shalt tell me, if so rare an obiect

Ere blest thine eyes before.

Phil.

Well, I would see her once,

Wert but to try thy iudgement Cleremont.

Cler.

And when thou doest, remember what I told thee,

I would not be so sicke, but soft looke to thy heart,

Yonder she comes, and thats her waiting woman.

Leucothoe and Psecas in the garden.

Now gaze thy fill, speake man how likest thou her.

Leu.

Psecas.

Madam.

Leu.

What flower was that

That thou wert telling such a story of

Last night to me.

Pse.

Tis call Narcissus Madam▪

It beares the name of that too beautious boy,

That lost himselfe by louing of himselfe,

Who viewing in afaire and cristall streame

Those lips that onely he could neuer kisse,

Dotes on the shadow, which to reach in vaine

Striuing, he drwones thus scorning all beside

For the loued shadow the fairer substance dyde.

Leu.

Fie fie, I like not these impossible tales,

A man to fall in loue with his owne shadow,

And died for loue, it is most ridiculous.

Pse.

Madam I know not, I haue often seene

[Page]Both men and women court the looking glasse

With so much seeming contentation,

That I could thinke this true, nay weare it about vm

As louers do their Mistresse counterfeit.

Leu.

Tha [...]s not for loue, but to correct their beauties

And draw from others admiration,

For all the comfort that our faces giue

Vnto our selues is but reflection

Of that faire likeing that another takes.

Cler.

I would we were a little neerer vm

We migh [...] but heare what talke these wenches haue

When they are alone, I warrant some good stuffe.

Phi.

Tis happinesse enough for me to see

The motion of her lips.

Cler.

I [...]aith ist there abouts.

Why Philocles, what lost already man,

Strooke dead with one poore glance, looke vp for shame

And tell me how thou likest my iudgement now,

Now thou doest see.

Phi.

Ah Cleremont too well,

Too well I see what I shall neuer taste,

You Ladies beautie: she must needs be cruell

(Though her faire shape deny it) to the sonne

Of him that is her fathers enemy,

That, Cleremont, that fatall difference

Checkes my desire, and sinkes my rising hopes,

But loue's a torrent violent if stopt,

And I am desperately mad: I must

[...] must be hers, or else I must not be.

Cler.

Containe that passion that will else ouerwhelme

All vertue in you, all that is called man,

And should be yours, take my aduice my heart

My life to second you, let vs consult,

You may find time to speake to her and woe her.

Phi.

May, nay I will in spite of destinie,

[...] women and faint hearted fooles complaine

In languishing dispayre, a manly loue

[Page]Dares shew it selfe and presse to his desires

Through thickest troopes of horid opposites,

Were there a thousand waking Dragons set

To keepe that golden fruit: I would attempt

To plucke and taste it, tis the danger crownes

A braue atchieuement: what if I should goe

And boldly wooe her in her fathers house

In spite enmity, what could they say?

Cle.

Twere madnesse that not wisedome rash attempts

Betray the meanes, but neuer worke the end.

Phi.

She would not hate a man for louing her,

Or if she did, better be once deemed

Then liue for euer haplesse.

Cle.

But take time,

The second thoughts our wise men say are best.

Pli.

Delaye's a double death, no I haue thought

A meanes, that straight Ile put in execution,

Ile write a Letter to her presently,

Take how it will.

Cle.

A Letter, who shall carry it?

Pli.

Ile tell thee when I haue done, hast thou Pen and Inke in thy Chamber.

Cle.

Yes, there is one vpon the Table, Ile stay here at the window, and watch whether she stay or not, what a sudden change is this.

Leu.

Did not count Virro promise to be heare

To day at dinner.

Pse.

Yes Madame that he did, and I dare sweare

He will not breake.

Leu.

He needes not, he is rich enough, vnlesse

Hee should breake in knauery, as some of our M [...]hants doe now adayes.

Pse.

Breake promise Madame I meane, & that he will not

For your sake, you know his businesse.

Leu.

I would I did not, he might spare his paines

And that vnusuall cost, that he bestowes

In pranking vp himselfe, and please me better

[Page]He would not please his Taylor and his Barbar,

For they got more for your sake by their Lord

Then they got this twenty yeeres before.

Leu.

Ah Psecas, Psecas, can my father thinke

That I can loue Count Virro, one so old

(That were enough to make a match vnfit)

But one so base, a man that neuer loued

For any thing called good, but drosse and pelfe,

One that would neuer, had my brother liued

Haue mooued this sute, no I can neuer loue him,

But canst thou keepe a secret firmely Psecas.

Pse.

Doubt me not Madame.

Leu.

Well Ile tell thee then,

I loue, alas, I dare not say I loue him,

But there's a yong and noble Gentleman,

Lord Euphues sonne, my fathers enemy.

A man whom natures prodigality

Stretcht euen to enuy in the making vp,

Once from a Window my pleased eye beheld

This youthfull Gallant as he rode the streete,

On a coruetting Courser, who it seemed

Knew his faire loade, and with a proud disdaine

Checkt the base earth, my father being by

I ask't his name, he told me Philocles,

The sonne and Heyre of his great enemy:

Iudge Psecas then, how my deuided brest,

Suffered betweene two meeting contraries,

Hatred and Loue, but Loues a deity,

And must preuaile against mortals, whose command

Not [...]oue himselfe could euer yet withstand.

Cle.

What is the letter done already, I see these Louers haue nimble inuentions, but how will you send it.

Phi.

What a question's that, seest thou this stone.

Cle.

Ah, then I see your drift, this stone must guide your

Fleeting Letter in the Ayre, and carry it to that

Faire Marke you ayme at.

Phi.

Hard by her.

Cle.

[Page]

I think you would not hit her with such stones as this,

Lady looke to your selfe, he that now throwes one

Stone at you, hopes to hit you with two.

Phi.

But prethee tell mee what doest thinke this Letter may doe.

Cle.

Well I hope,

Tis ten to one this Lady oft hath seene you,

You neuer liued obscure in Syracuse,

Nor walk'd the streetes vnknowne, and who can tell

What place you beare in her affections,

Lou'd or mislik'd; if bad, this letter sent,

Will make her shew her scorne, if otherwise,

Feare not a womans wit, sheele find a time

To answere your kind Letter, and expresse

What you desire she should, then send it boldly,

You haue a fairer make there.

Phi.

Cupid guide my arme,

Oh be as iust blind God as thou art great,

And with that powerfull hand, that golden shaft

That I was wounded, wound you tender brest,

There is no saluē but that, no cure for me,

Cle.

See what a wonder it strikes vm in, how it should come.

Phi.

Sheele wonder more to see what man it comes from.

Cle.

I like her well, yet she is not afraid to open it:

She starts, stay marke her action when shee has read the Letter.

She reades

"LEt it wrong this Letter that it came,
"From one that trembled to subscribe his name,
"Fearing your hate, O let not hate descend,
"Nor make you cruell to so vow'd a friend,
"If youle not promise loue, grant but accesse,
"And let me know my woes are past redresse,
"Be iust then beautious Iudge, and like the lawes


[Page]"Condemne me not till you haue heard my cause,
"Which when you haue, from those faire lips returne
"Either my life in loue, or death in scorne.
Yours or not, 
Philocles.

Am I awake or dreame I, is it true

Or does my flattering fancy but suggest

What I most couet.

Pse.

Madame the words are there,

Ile sweare it canna be, nor be illusion.

Leu.

It is too good for truth.

Phi.

Mocke me not fortune,

She kist it, sawest thou her, by heauen she kist it.

Cle.

And with a looke that relisht loue, not scorne,

Leu.

This Letter may be forged, I much desire to know the certainty, Psecas thy helpe must further me.

Pse.

Ile not be wanting.

Leu.

Here comes my father, he must not see this.

Pse.

No nor your tother sweet heart, hee is with him yonder.

Enter Polimetes, Virro, Roscio.

Pol.

Nay noble Count you are too old a Souldier

To take a maides first no, for a deniall,

They will be nice at first, men must pursue

That will obtaine, woe her my Lord and take her,

You haue my free consent if you can get hers,

Yonder she walkes alone, goe comfort her.

Virro

Ile doe the best I may, but we old men

Are but cold comfort, I thanke your Lordships loue.

Pol.

I wonder Roscio that the peeuish Girle

Comes on so slowly on peswasions

That I can vse, do mooue the setting forth

Count Ʋirroes greatnesse, wealth and dignity

Seemes not to affect her, Roscio.

Roscio.

I doubt the cause my Lord,

For were not that, I dare ingage my life,

[Page]She would be wonne to loue him, she has plac'd

Already her affections on some other.

Poli.

How should I find it out

Ros.

Why thus my Lord

Theres neuer man nor woman that ere loued,

But chose some bosome friend whose close conuerse,

Sweeten their ioyes, and ease their burdened minds

Of such a working secret, thus no doubt

Has my yong Lady done, and but her woman,

Who should it be, tis she must out with it,

Her secrecy if wit cannot orereach,

Gold shall corrupt, leaue that to me my Lord,

But if her Ladies heart doe yet stand free

And vnbequeath'd to any, your command

And fathers iurisdiction enterpos'd

Will make her loue the Count, no kind of m [...]ne [...]

must want to draw her.

Pol.

Thou art my Oracle,

My Braine, my Soule, my very being Roscio,

Walke on and speede whilst I but second thee.

Cle.

It is euen so, Count Ʋirro is your riuall,

See how the old Ape smugs vp his mouldy chap [...]

To seize the bit.

Phi.

He must not if I liue,

But yet her father brings him that has the meanes

That I should euer want.

Cle.

If he do marry her

Reuenge it nobly, make him a Cuckold boy,

Phi.

Thou iests that feeles it not, prithee lets goe,

Cle.

Stay, Ile not curse him briefely for thy sake,

If thou doest marry her mayest thou be made

A Cuckold without profit, and nere get

An Office by it, nor fauour at the Court,

But may thy large ill gotten treasury

Be spent in her bought lust, and thine owne gold

Bring thee adulterers, so farewell good Count.

Exeunt Phiocles.

[Page]Enter Seruant.

Ser.

My Lord, ther's a Messenger within

Desires accesse, has businesse of import,

Which to no eare but yours he must impart.

Enter Eugenio disguised.

Pol.

Admit him, now friend, your businesse with me.

Ser.

If you be the Lord Polimetes.

Pol.

The same.

Euge.

My Lord, I come from Athens with such newes

As I dare say is welcome though vnlooked for,

Your sonne Eugenio liues whom you so long

Thought dead and mourn'd for.

Pol.

How, liues.

Euge.

Vpon my life my Lord I saw him well

Within these few dayes.

Pol.

Thankes for thy good newes,

Towards him Roscio, but now tell me frend

Hast thou reueal'd this newes to any man

In Syracuse but me.

Eu.

To none my Lord,

At euery place where I haue staid in towne,

Enquiring for your Lordships house, I heard

These tragicke, but false newes, the contrary

I still conceald, though knew, intending first

Your Lordships eare should drinke it.

Pol.

Worthy f [...]iend.

I now must thanke your wisedome as your loue

In this well carried action, Ile requite it,

Meane time pray vse my house, and still continue your

Silence in this businesse, Roscio make him welcome, and

Part as little from him as you can for feare.

Ro.

Thinke it done, my Lord.

Pol.

Psecas come hither.

Vi [...]

Be like your selfe, let not a cruell doome

Passe those faire lips, that neuer were ordain'd

[Page]To kill, but to reuiue.

Leu.

Neither my Lord

Lyes in the power to doe.

Vir.

Yes sweete to me.

Whom your scorne kils, and pitty will reuiue.

Leu.

Pitty is shew'd to men in misery.

Vir.

And so am I, if not relieu'd by you.

Leu.

Twere pride in me, my Lord, to thinke it so.

Vir.

I am your beauties captiue.

Leu.

Then my Lord,

What greater gift then freedome can I giue,

Tis that that Captiues most desires, and that

You shall command, y'are free from me my Lord,

Vir.

Your beauty contradicts that freedome Lady.

Pol.

come noble Count, I must for this time interrupt you

You'le finde time enough within to talke.

Ʋir.

Ile wait vpon your Lordship.

exeunt manet Euge. solus.

Euge.

Thus in disguise I haue discouer'd all,

And found the cause of my reported death,

Which did at first amaze me, but tis well,

Tis to draw on the match betweene my sister

And this rich Count, heauen grant it be content

As well as fortune to her, but I feare

She cannot loue his age, how it succeedes

I shall perceiue, and whilst vnknowne I stay,

I cannot hurt the proiect, helpe I may.

Exit.

Enter Francisco, Sumner.

Fran.

This will make good worke for you in the spirituall

Court, Shallow is a rich man.

Sum.

I marry Sir,

Those are the men we looke for, ther's somewhat

To be got, the Court has many businesses at this

Time, but they are little worth, a few waiting

Women got with child by Seruingmen or so, scarce

Worth the citing.

Fran.

Do not their Masters get

Vm with child sometimes.

Sum.

Yes no doubt, but

They haue got a trick to put vm off vpon their

Men, and for a little portion saue their

[Page]Owne credits; besides, these priuate marriages

Are much out of our way, we cannot know when

There is a fault.

Fran.

Well, these are no

Starters I warrant you, Shallow shall not deny it,

And for the Wench she neede not confesse it, she h [...]s

A marke that will betray her.

Sum.

I thanke you

Sir for your good intelligence, I hope tis certaine.

Franc.

Feare not that, is your citation ready.

Sum.

I haue it heere.

Franc.

Well step aside, and come when I call, I heare vm comming.

Exit Sumner.

Enter Franklin, Shallow, Luce, Parson.

Frank.

Set forward there, Francisco what make you here.

Franc.

I come to claime my right, Parson take heede,

Thou art the Author of adultery

If thou conioyne this couple, shee's my wife.

Frank.

you saucebox.

Shal.

Father, I thought she had beene mine, I hope I shall not loose her thus.

Frank.

Francisco, dare not to interrupt vs, for I sweare thou shalt endure the lawes extremity

For thy presumption.

Franc.

doe your worst, I feare not,

I was contracted to her.

Frank.

What witnesse haue you.

Franc.

Heauen is my witnesse, whose imperiall eye saw our contract.

Shal.

What an Asse is this to talke of contracting, hee that will get a wench, must make her bigger as I haue done, and not contract.

Franc.

Sir, you are abus'd.

Shal.

Why so.

Franc.

The wife you goe to marry is with child, and by another.

Shal.

A good iesty faith, make me beleeue that.

Franc.

How comes this foole possest, he neuer toucht her I dare sweare.

Frank.

No more Francisco as you will answere it,

Parson set forward there.

Franc.

stay,

If this will not suffice, Sumner come forth.

Frank.

A Sumner, we are all betraid.

Enter Sumner.

Sum.

God saue you all, I think you guesse my businesse,

[Page]These are to cite to the spirituall Court

You master Shallow, and you mistresse Luce,

Aske not the cause, for tis apparant here,

A carnall copulation, ante matrimonium.

Frank.

This was a barre vnlookt for, spitefull Francisco

Franc.

Iniurious Franklin, could the lawes diuine,

Or humane suffer, such an impious act,

That thou shouldst take my true and lawfull wife,

And great with child by me, to giue t'another,

Gulling his poore simplicity.

Shal.

Do you meane me Sir.

Sum.

Gallants Farewell, my writ shall be obeyd.

Frank.

Summer it shall.

exit Summer

Par.

Ile take my leaue, theres nothing now for me to do

Frank.

Farewell good master Parson.

exit Parson

Frank.

Francisco canst thou say thou euer louedst my daughter, and wouldst thou thus disgrace her openly.

Franc.

No, I would win her thus,

And did you hold her credit halfe so deare

As I, or her content, you would not thus

Take her from me, and thrust her against her will

On this rich foole.

Sha.

You are very bold with me Sir.

Franc.

Let me haue newes what happens dearest Luce.

Luc.

Else let me die.

exit Francisco.

Frank.

This was your doing Luce, it had beene

Vnpossible he should ere haue knowne the time

So truly else, but Ile take an order next time

For you babling.

Sha.

Whats the matter father.

Fran.

We may

Thanke you for it, this was your haste that will

Now shame vs all, you must be doing a fore your

Time.

Sha.

Twas but a tricke of youth father,

Frank.

And threrefore now you must eene stand in a

White sheete for all to gaze at.

Sha.

How,

I would be loath to weare a surplesse now, tis a

Disgrace the house of the Shallowes neuer knew▪

Fran.

[Page]

All the hope is, officers may be brib'd, and so they will, twere a hard world for vs to liue in else.

Shal.

You say true father, if twere not for corruption, euery poore rascall might haue iustice as well as one of vs, and that were a shame.

exeunt Shal. Luce

Frank.

This was a cunning stratagem well layd,

But yet Francisco th'hast not won the prize:

What should I do, I must not let this cause

Proceed to tryall in the open Court,

For then my daughters oath will cast the child

Vpon Francisco: no, I haue found a better,

I will before the next Court day prouide

Some needy Parson, one whose pouerty

Shall make him feare no Cannons, he shall marry

My daughter to rich Shallow, when tis done

Ou [...] gold shall make a silence in the Court.

Exit▪

Enter Philocles, Psecas.

Pse.

I must returne your answere to my Lady,

He tell her you will come.

Phil.

Come,

And such a Angell call, I should forget

All Offices of Nature, all that men

Wish in their second thoughts, ere such a duty

Commend my seruice to her, and to you

My thankes for this kind Message.

exit Psecas.

I neuer breath'd till now, neuer till now now

Did my life relish sweetenesse, breake not heart,

Cracke not yee feeble Ministers of nature

With inundation of such swelling ioy,

To great to beare without expression:

The Lady writes that she has knowne me long

By sight, and lou'd me, and she seemes to thanke

Her starres she loues, and is belou'd againe,

She speake [...] my very thoughts, by heauen tis strange

And happy when affections thus can meete;

She further writes at such an houre to day,

[Page]Her fathers absence, and all household spi [...]s

Fitly remoou'd, shall giue accesse to me

Vnmarkt to visit her, where she alone

Will entertaine discourse and welcome me.

I hope tis truely meant, why should I feare,

But wisedome bids me feare: fie, fie, tis base,

To wrong a creature of that excellence,

With such suspicion I should iniure her,

I will as soone suspect an angell false,

Treason neare lodg'd within so faire a brest,

No, if her hand betray me, I will will runne

On any danger, tis alike to me

To dye, or find her false, for on her truth

Hangs my chiefe being, well Ile lose no time

No not a minute, dearest loue I come,

To meete my sweetest wishes I will flye,

Heauen and my truth, sheild me from trechery.

Exit.

Actus Tertius.

Enter Polimetes, Roscio, Eugenio, Psecas.

Pol.

I Cannot credit it, nor thinke that she

Of all the noble youth in Sicilly,

Should make so strange a choise, that none but he,

None but the sonne of my vow'd enemy

Must be her mate, it strikes me to amaze,

Minion take heede, doe not belie your Mistresse.

Pse.

Mercy forsake me if I doe my Lord,

You charg'd me to confesse the truth to you,

Which I haue fully done, and presently

Ile bring you where conceal'd, you shall both see

Their priuacy and heare their conference.

Pol.

Well I beleeue thee wench, and will reward

Thy trust in this, goe get thee in againe

And bring me word when Philocles is come,

[Page]Sir youle be secret to our purpose.

Euge.

As your owne breast my Lord.

Pol.

I shall rest thankfull to you:

This stranger must be soothd lest he marre all.

Rosc.

This was well found out my Lord, you now haue meanes to take your enemie.

Pol.

With blest occasion I will so pursue

As childlesse Euphes shall for euer rue.

Rise in thy blackest looke direst Nemesis

Assistant to my purpose, helpe m [...] glut

My thirsty soule with blood. This bold yong man

To his rash loue shall sacrifice his life.

Ros.

What course you intend, to ruine him.

Pol.

Why kill him presently.

Ro.

Oh no my Lord,

Youle rue that action, thinke not that the Law

Will let such murther sleepe vnpunished.

Pol.

Should I now let him goe now I haue caught him

Ros.

Yes Sir, to catch him faster, and more safely.

Pol.

How should that be? speake man.

Ros.

Why thus my Lord;

You know the law speakes death to any man

That steales an Heire without her friends consent,

This must he do, his loue will prompt him to it,

For he can neuer hope by your consent

To marry her, and she tis like will giue

Content, for womens loue is violent,

Then marke their passage you shall easly find

How to surprise them at your will my Lord.

Pol.

Thou art my Oracle deare Roscio,

Heres Psecas come againe; how now what newes?

Pse.

My Lord they both are comming please you withdraw, you shall both heare and see what you desire.

Enter Philocles and Leucothoe.

Leu.

Ye are welcom Noble Sir and did my power,

Answere my loue your visitation,

[Page]Sould be more free, and your deserued welcome

Exprest in better fashion.

Phi.

Best of Ladies,

It is so well, so excellently well,

Comming from your wisht loue, my barren thanke [...]

Wants language for't, there lies in your faire lookes

More entertainement then in all the pompe

That the vaine Persian euer taught the world,

Your presence is the welcome I expected,

That makes it perfect.

Leu.

Tis your noble thought

Makes good whats wanting here, but gentle friend,

For so I now dare call you.

Pol.

Tis well Minion you are bold

Enough I see to chuse your friends without my leaue.

Phi.

Tis my ambition euer to be yours.

Leu.

Thinke me not light, deare Philocles, so soone

To grant thee loue, that others might haue sought

With eagerest pursuit, and not obtain'd,

But I was yours by fate, and long haue beene,

Before you wood Leucothoe was wonne,

And yours without resistance.

Phi.

Oh my Starres

Twas your kind influence, that whist I slept

In dullest ignorance, contriu'd for me

The way to crowne me with felicity.

Pol.

You may be deceiu'd though,

You haue no such great reason

To thanke your Starres if you knew all.

Phil.

And know faire Mistresse you haue met a loue,

That time, nor fate, nor death can euer change,

A man that but in you can haue no being:

Let this kisse seale my faith.

Leu.

And this mine.

Pol.

Nay too't againe, your sweete meate shall haue sowre sawce.

Phi.

But sweet, 'mongst all these Roses ther's one thorne

That prickes and galls me, our parents enmity

Will crosse our loues, I doe assure my sonne

This father neuer will giue his consent.

Leu.

[Page]

No so I thinke, he moues me still to Virro

That old craz'd Count, and with such vehemency

I dare scarce bide his presence if I deny him;

Therefore we must be speedy in our course,

And take without his leaue what he denyes.

Pol.

I thanke you for that good daughter.

Ros.

I told you Sir twould come to this at last.

Phi.

Oh thou hast spoke my wishes, and hath shewd

Thy selfe in loue as true as beautifull;

Then let's away dearest Leucothoe,

My fortunes are not poore, then feare no want,

This constant loue of ours may proue so happy,

To reconcile our parents enmity.

Leu.

Heauen grant it may.

Po.

Neuer by this meanes yongster.

Leu.

But soft now I thinke better ont Ile not goe.

Phi.

Why dearest, is thy loue so quickly cold?

Leu.

No, but ile not venter thee, thine is the danger,

Thou knowest tis death by law to steale an heire,

And my deare brothers most vntimely death,

Hath lately made me one, what if thou shouldst be taken.

Phi.

Oh feare not that, had I a thousand liues,

They were too small a venture for such prise,

I tell thee sweete, a face not halfe so faire

As thine, hath arm'd whole actions in the field,

And brought a thousand ships to Tenedos,

To sacke lamented Troy, and should I feare

To venture one poore life, and such a life

As would be lost in nor possessing thee:

Come come, make that no scruple, when shall we goe.

Leu.

This present euening, for to morrow morning

My father lookes that I should giue consent

To marry with the Count,

Phil.

Best of all, would twere this present houre,

Ile goe prepare, but shall I call thee heere.

Leu.

Oh no, weele meete.

Phi.

Where dearest.

Leu.

East from the City by a Riuers side,

[Page]Not distant halfe a mile there stands a groue,

Where often riding by I haue obserued

A little Hermitage, there I will stay

If I be first, if you, doe you the like,

Let th'houre be ten, then shall I best escape.

Phi.

Nere sweeter comfort came from Angels lips

I know the place, and will be ready there

Before the houre: Ile bring a friend with me

As true as mine owne heart, one Clerimont,

That may doe vs good if danger happen.

Leu.

Vse your pleasure.

Phi.

Dearest farewell,

Houres will seeme yeeres till we are met againe.

exeunt.

Pol.

Ah Sirrah, this geere goes well, god a mercy girle

For thy intelligence, why this is as much as a

Man could desire, the time, place, and euery thing;

I warrant vm they passe no further, well

Goe thou in and wait vpon thy Mistresse, shees

Melancholly till she see her sweete heart againe, but

When shee does, shee shall not see him long,

Not a word of whats past among vs for your life.

Pse.

I warrant you my Lord.

Pol.

Ile not so much as shew an angry looke,

Or any token that I know any of their proceedings,

But Rosio, we must lay the place strongly, if they

Should scape vs, I were pritily fool'd now after all

This.

Ros.

Why tis impossible my Lord, weele goe

Strong enough, besides I thinke it fit we tooke

An Officer along with vs to countenance it the

Better.

Pol.

Thou sayst well, goe get one,

Ile goe my selfe along with you too, I loue

To see sport though I am old, you'le goe

Along with vs to Sir.

Eu.

I Sir, you shall

Command my seruice when you are ready.

Pol.

Now Euphues, what I did but barely act

Thy bleeding heart shall feele, losse of a sonne

If Law can haue his course, as who can let it,

I know thou think'st mine dead, and in thy heart

[Page]Laughest at my falling house, but let them laugh

That winne the prize, things nere are knowne till ended.

Exeunt. Pol. and Ros.

Eugenio solus.

Eug.

Well I like my sisters choise, she has taken a man

Whose very lookes and carriage speake him

Worthy, besides he is Noble, his fortunes sufficient,

They both loue each other, what can my father

More desire, that he gapes so after this old

Count▪ that comes for the estate, as tother vpon

My soule does not, but pure spotlesse loue, but

Now his plot is for reuenge vpon his old enemy:

Fye, Fye tis bloudy and vnchristian, my soule

Abhors such acts, this match may rather

Reconcile our houses, and I desire where worth

Is to haue friendship, as on my soule tis there.

Well Philocles I hope to call thee brother.

Somewhat Ile doe, Ile goe perswade Count Ʋirro

Not to loue her, I know the way, and Ile but

Tell him truth her brother liues, that will

Coole his loue quickly; but soft, here comes

The Count as fit as may be.

Enter Virro.

Ʋir.

She loues me not yet, but that's no matter,

I shall haue her, her father sayes I shall,

And I dare take his word, maides are quickly

Ouer-rul'd, ah, ah, me thinkes I am growne yonger

Then I was by twenty yeeres, this Fortune

Cast vpon me, is better then Medeas charme, to

Make an old man yong againe, to haue a

Lords estate freely bestowed, and with it such

A beauty as should warme Nectors bloud,

Make old Priam lusty. Fortune I see thou louest me

Now, Ile build a Temple to thee shortly, and

[Page]Adore thee as the greatest deity. Now what are you.

Euge.

A poore Scholler my Lord, one that

Am little beholding to Fortune.

Ʋir.

So are most of your profession,

Thou shouldst t [...]ke some more thriuing

Occupation, to be a iudges man, they are

The brauest now adayes, or a Cardinals

Pander, that were [...] good profession and gainefull.

Euge.

But not lawfull, my Lord.

Ʋerro.

Lawfull,

That Cardinall may come to be Pope, and

Then he could pardon thee and himselfe too.

Eu.

My Lord I was brought vp a Scholler.

And I thanke your counsell, My

Lord, I haue some for you, and therefore I

Came.

Vir.

For me, what I prithee.

Eu.

Tis weighty and concernes you neere.

Vir.

Speake, what ist?

Eu.

My Lord, you are to marry old Polimetes Daughter.

Vir.

And Heire.

Eu.

No Heire

My Lord, her Brother is aliue.

Vir.

How, Thou art mad.

Eu.

My Lord,

What I speake is true, and to my knowledge

His father giues it out in pollicy to marry his

Daughter the better, to hooke in sutors, and

Specially aym'd at you, thinking you rich

And couetous, and now he has caught you.

Vir.

But dost thou mock me.

Eu.

Let me be euer miserable if I speake

Not truth, as sure as I am here Eugenio liues,

I know it, and know him, where he is.

Vir.

Where prithee.

Eu.

Not a daies iourney hence,

Where his father enioyn'd him to stay till your

Match, and sends word to him of this plot:

Besides, I ouer-hard the old Lord and his man

Roscio, laughing at you for being caught thus.

[Page]

Vir.

Why, wert thou at the house then.

Eu.

Yes, But had scuruy entertainment

Which I haue thus reueng'd

Vir.

Beshrew my heart I know not what

To thinke on't, til like enough, this Lord was

Alwayes cunning beyond measure, and it

Amaz'd me that he should grow so exreme

Kind to me on the suddaine to offer me all this:

Besides this fellow is so confident, and on

No ends of couznage that I can see; well,

I would faine enioy her, the Wench is

Delicate, but I would haue the estate too, and

not be guld, what shall I doe, now braines

If euer you will, helpe your Master.

Eu.

It stings him.

Vir.

Well, so, Sir,

What may I call your name?

Eu.

Irus my Lord.

Vir.

Your name as well as your attire

Speakers you poore.

Eu.

I am so.

Vir.

And very poore.

Eu.

Very poore.

Vir.

Would you not gladly take a course

To get money, and a great some of mony.

Eu.

Is gladly if your Lordship would but

Shew me the way.

Vir.

Harke ye.

Eu.

Oh my Lord, Conscience.

Vir.

Fye, neuer

Talke of the Conscience, and for Law thou art

Free, for all men thinke him dead, and

His father will be ashamed to follow it

Hauing already giuen him for dead,

And then who can know it, come be wise,

Fiue hundreth crownes Ile giue.

Eu.

Well, tis pouerty that does it, and not I,

When shall I be paid.

Vir.

When thou hast done it.

Eu.

Well giue me your

Hand for it my Lord

Vir.

Thou shalt.

Eu.

In writing, to be paid when I haue

Poysoned him, and thinke it done.

Vir.

Now thou

[Page]

But loue has made me bold, the time has beene,

In such a place as this I should haue fear'd

Each rowling leafe, and trembled at a reed

Stird in the Mooneshine, my fearefull fancy

Would frame a thousand apparisions,

And worke some feare out of my very shadow:

I wonder Philocles is tardy thus,

When last wee parted euery houre, he said,

Would seeme a yeere till we were met againe,

It should not seeme so by the hast he makes

Ile sit and rest me, come I know he will.

Enter Philocles and Clerimont.

Phi.

This Clerimont this is the happy place

Where I shall meet the summe of all my ioyes,

And be possest of such a treasury

As would inrich a Monarch.

Leu.

This is his voyce,

My Philocles.

Phi.

My life, my soule, what here before me,

Oh thou dost still out goe me, and dost make

All my endeauours poore in the requitall

Of thy large fauours, but I forget my selfe.

Sweete bid my friend here welcome, this is he

That I dare trust next mine owne hearth with secrets.

But why art thou disguised thus.

Leu.

I durst not venture else to make escape.

Phi.

Euen now me thinkes I stand as I would wish

With all my wealth about me, such a loue

And such a friend, what can be added more

To make a man liue happy, thou darke groue

That hast beene cald the seat of Melancholy,

[Page]And shelter for the discontented spirits;

Sure thou art wrong, thou seemst to me a place

Of solace and content, a Paradise

That giuest me more then euer Court could doe

Or richest Palace, blest be thy faire shades,

Let birds of musicke euer chant it heere,

No croking Rauen, or ill booding Owle

Make heere their balefull hahitation

Frighting thy walkes, but mayst thou be a groue

Where loues faire Queene may take delight to sport:

For vnder thee two faithfull Louers meet,

Why is my faire Leucothoe so sad.

Leu.

I know no cause, but I would faine be gone.

Phi.

Whether sweete.

Leu.

Any whether from hen [...]e.

My thoughts diuine of treason, whence I know not,

There is no creature knowes our meeting heere

But one, and thats my maid, she has beene trusty

And will be still I hope, but yet I would

She did not know it, prithee lets away

Any where else, we are secure from danger.

Phi.

Then lets remoue, but prithee be not sad.

noise within.

What noise is that.

Leu.

Ay me.

Phi.

Oh feare not Loue.

draw.

Eer Polimedes, Roscio, Eugenio and Officers.

Pol.

Vpon vm Officers, yonder they are.

Phi.

Theeues, Villaines.

Pol.

Thou art the Thiefe and the Villaine too,

Giue me my Daughter thou rauisher.

Phi.

First take my life.

Pol.

Vpon vm I say.

fight.

Knocke vm downe Officers if they resist,

they are taken.

Leu.

Oh they are lost, ah wicked, wicked Psecas;

Pol.

So keepe vm fast, weele haue vm faster shortly, and for you Minion, Ile tye a clog about your neck for running [Page] away any more.

Leu.

Yet do but heare me father.

Pol.

Call me not father thou disobedient wretch,

Thou Run-away, thou art no child of mine,

My Daughter nere wore Breeches.

Leu.

Oh Sir, my Mother would haue done as much

For loue of you, if need had so required,

Thinke not my mind transformed as my habite.

Pol.

Officers away with vm, peace Stumpet,

You may discharge him, he's but an assistant.

Leu.

Oh stay and heare me yet, heare but a word

And that my last it may be, doe not spill

The life of him in whom my life subsists,

Kill not two liues in one, remember Sir,

I was your Daughter once, once you did loue me,

And tell me then, what fault can be so great,

To make a father murtherer of his child,

For so you are in taking of his life.

Oh thinke not Sir that I will stay behinde him

Whilst there be Aspes, and Kniues, and burning Coles▪

No Roman dame shall in her great example

Outgoe my loue.

Phi.

Oh where will sorrow stay,

Is there no end in griefe or in my death

Not punishment enough for my offence,

But must her griefe be added to afflict me;

Dry vp those Pearles dearest Leucothoe,

Or thou wilt make me doubly miserable,

Preserue that life, that I may after death

Liue in my better part, take comfort deare,

People would curse me, if such beauty should

For me miscarry, no, liue happy thou,

And let me suffer what the law inflicts.

Leu.

My offence was as great as thine,

And why should not my punishment.

Pol.

Come haue you done, Officers away with him.

Exit Philocles.

[Page]Ile be your keeper, but Ile looke better to you.

But Rosie you and I must about the businesse:

sir let it be your charge to watch my Daughter,

And see she send no message any whither,

Nor receiue any.

Eu.

It shall my Lord.

exeunt manet Eu. and Leu.

Ile be an Argus, none shall come heere I warrant you,

My very heart bleedes to see two such louers so

Faithfully parted so. I must condemne my father,

Hees too cruell in this hard action, and did not

Nature forbid it, I could raile at him, to reake

His long fostred malice against Lord Euphues thus

Vpon his sonne, the faithfull louer of his owne

Daughter, and vpon her, for should it come to passe

As he expects it shall, I thinke t' would kill her

Too, she takes it —: See in what strange amazement

Now she stands, her griefe has spent it selfe so

Farre that it has left her sencelesse, it greeues

Me thus to see her, I can scarce forbeare reuealing

Of my selfe to her, but that I keepe it for a

Better occasion when things shall better answere to

My purpose: Lady.

Leu.

What are you.

Eu.

In that my Lord your father has appointed

To giue attendance on you.

Leu.

On me, alas I neede no attendance,

He might bestow his care better for me.

Eu.

I came but lately to him, nor doe I meane

Long to stay with him, in the meane time Lady

Might I but doe you any seruice.

Leu.

All seruice is too late, my hopes are deseperate.

Eu.

Madame, I haue a feeling of your woe,

A greater your owne brother could not haue,

And thinke not that I come suborn'd by any

To vndermine your secrets, I am true,

By all the gods I am, for further tryall

Command me any thing, send me on any message

Ile doe it faithfully, or any thing else

That my poore power can compasse.

Leu.

[Page]

Oh strange fate

Haue I lost pitty in a fathers heart,

And shall I find it in a stranger: Sir

I shall not liue to thanke you, but my prayers

Shall goe with you.

Eu.

Tis not for thankes or neede

But for the seruice that I owe to vertue

I would doe this.

Leu.

Surely this man

Is nobly bred, how ere his habite giue him:

But Sir, all physicke comes to me too late,

There is no hope my Philocles should liue▪

Eu.

Vnlesse the King were pleasd to grant his pardon,

Twe're good that he were mou'd.

Leu.

Ah who should doe it,

I feare me tis in vaine, Count Virro

And my father both will crosse it, but I would venture

If I could get but thither.

Eu.

Thats in my power

To giue you liberty, your father left me

To be your keeper, but in an act

So meritorious as this, I will not hinder you,

Nay I will waite vpon you to the Court.

Leu.

A thousand thankes to you, well ile goe,

Grant oh you powers aboue, if Virgins teares,

If a true loues prayers had euer power

To moue compassion grant it now to me,

Arm'd with so strong a vigor, my weake words

They may pierce deepe into his kingly brest,

And force out mercy in spite of all opposers.

Eu.

Come lets away.

exeunt.

[Page]

Actus quartus.

Enter Francisco reading a letter.

Fran.

MY dearest Luce, were thy old Sire as iust

As thou art truely constant, our firme loue

Had neuer met these oppositions,

All my designes as yet, all practises

That I haue vs'd, I see are frustrated,

For as my faire intelligencer writes,

He will before the next court day prouide

Some carelesse person▪ that in spite of lawes

Shall marry her to Shallow, this being done,

He meanes to hold the Cou [...]ts seuerity

To by a golden bit, and so he may,

Al [...] it is too true, I must preuent it,

And that in time, before it grow too farre;

But how, there lies the point of difficulty:

But what strange sight is this that greetes mine eyes,

Alphonso my old Captaine, sure tis he.

Enter Al [...]phonso.

Al.

Thus once againe from twenty yeares exile,

Tost by the stormes of fortune too and fro,

Has gratious heauen giuen me leaue to tread

My natiue earth of Sicily and draw

That aire that fed me in my infancy.

Fr.

Tis he, most noble Captaine, oh what power

Has bene so gratious as to blesse mine eyes

Once more with sight of my most honored master.

Al.

Kind y [...]uth the teares of ioy that I haue spent

To greet my natiue country haue quite robd

Mine eyes of moysture, and haue left me none

To answer thy affection, but tell me,

Tell me how thou hast liu'd in Syracuse

These fiue yeeres here, since that vnluckly storme

Diuided vs at Sea.

Fr.

Faith poorely Sir,

[Page]As one that knows no kindred nor alliance,

Vnknowne of any haue I shifted out,

But I haue heard you say that I was borne

In Syracuse, tell me what stocke I come of,

What parentage, how meane so ere they be,

They canno [...] well be poorer then my selfe,

Speake, do you know them Sir?

Al.

Yes very well,

And I am glad the fates haue brought me home,

For thy deare sake, that I may now disclose

Thy honorable birth.

Fr.

Honorable?

Al.

Yes noble youth, thou art the second sonne

To old Lord Euphues, a man more worthy

And truly noble neuer drew this ayre;

Thy name's Lysandro, this discouery

Will be as welcome to your friends as you.

Fr.

You do amaze me Sir.

Al.

Ile tell you all,

It was my fortune, twenty a yeare ago,

Vpon the Tyrrhene shore, whose sea diuides

This Ile from Italy, to keepe a fort

Vnder your noble father, where your selfe

Then but a child, was left to my tuition,

When sodainly the rude assailing force

Of strong Italian Pirats so preuaild,

As to surprisall of the fort and vs.

Your name and noble birth I then conceald,

Fearing some outrage from the enmity

Of those fell Pyrates, and since from your selfe

I purposely haue kept the knowlenge of it.

As loath to grieue your present misery

With knowledge of what fortunes you had lost,

That this is true, you straight shall see th'effect,

Ile goe acquaint your father with the tokens,

And make his oreioyde heart leape to embrace

Thee his new found and long forgotten sonne:

Fr.

Worthy Captaine, your presence was alwayes

Welcome to me, but this vnlookt for newes, I

Cannot suddenly disgest.

Al.

[Page]

Well Ile go to him presently.

exit Alphonso.

Fr.

Now my deare Luce, I shall finde meanes to quite

Thy loue, that couldst descend so low as I

When I was nothing, and with such affection,

This was my suit still to the powers aboue,

To make me worthy of thy constant loue.

Exit Francisco.

But ile about the proiect I intended.

Enter Virro and Polimetes.

Pol.

Why now my Lord you are neerer to her loue then euer you were yet, your riuall by this accident shall be remoued out of the way, for before the scorneful girle would neuer fancy any man else.

Vir.

I conceiue you Sir.

Pol.

I labourd it for your sake as much as for my

Owne, to remoue your riuall and my enemy, you

Haue your loue, and I haue my reuenge.

Vir.

I shall liue my Lord to giue you thankes, but

aside.

T'will be after a strange manner, if Irus has

Dispatched what he was hired too, then my kind

Lord I shall be a little too cunning for you.

Pol.

My Lord you are gracious with the King.

Ʋir.

I thanke his Maiesty, I haue his care before another man.

Pol.

Then see no pardon be granted, you may stop any thing; I knew Euphues will be soliciting for his sonne.

Vir.

I warrant you my Lord no pardon passes whilst I am there, ile bee a barre betwixt him and the King, but hearke the King approaches.

Enter the King with attendants.

Ambo.

Health to your Maiesty.

King.

Count Virro, and Lord Polimetes welcome,

You haue beene strangers at the Court of late;

But I can well excuse you Count, you are about a wife,

A yong one and a faire one too they say,

[Page]Get me yong souldiers Count, but speake

When is the day, I meane to be your guest,

You shall not steale a martiage.

Ʋir.

I thanke your Maiesty, but the marriage that I intended is stolen to my hand, and by another.

King.

Stolne, how man.

Vir.

My promised wife

Is lately stolne away by Philocles,

Lord Euphues sonne against her fathers will,

Who followed vm and apprehended them,

The Law may right vs Sir, if it may haue course.

King.

No reason but the law should haue his course.

Enter Euphues.

Euph.

Pardon dread Soueraigne, pardon for my sonne.

King.

Your sonne, Lord Euphues, what is his offence.

Euph.

No hainous one my Leige, no plot of treason

Against your royall person or your state,

These aged cheekes would blush to beg a pardon

For such a foule offence, no crying murder

Hath steyned his innocent hands, his fault was loue,

Loue my deare Leige, vnfortunately he tooke

The Daughter and Heire of Lord Polimetes,

Who followes him and seekes exstremity.

Pol.

I seeke but Law, I am abus'd my Leige,

Iustice is all I beg, my Daughters stolne,

Staffe of my age, let the law doe me right,

Vir.

To his iust prayers doe I bend my knee

My promised wife is stolne, and by the sonne

Of that iniurious Lord, iustice I craue.

Euph.

Be like those powers aboue, whose place on earth

You represent, shew mercy gracious King,

For they are mercifull.

Pol.

Mercy is but the Kings prerogatiue,

Tis Iustice is his office, doing that

He can wrong no man, no man can complaine,

But mercy shewed oft takes way reliefe

From the wronged partie that the Law would giue him:

Eup.

The Law is blind and speakes in generall termes,

[Page]She cannot pitty where occasion serues,

The liuing law can moderate her rigour,

And thats the King.

Pol.

The King I hope in this will not do so,

Eup.

Tis malice makes thee speake,

Hard hearted Lord, hadst thou no other way

To wreake thy cankred and long fostred hate

Vpon my he [...]d but thus, thus bloudily

By my sonnes suffering, and for such a fault

As thou shouldst loue him rather, is thy daughter

Disparaged by his loue, is his blood base,

Or are his fortunes sunke, this law was made

For such like cautions, to restraine the base

From wronging noble persons by attempts

Of such a kind, but where equality

Meetes in the match, the fault is pardonable.

Leu.

Mercy my Soueraigne, mercy gratious King.

Pol.

Minion who sent for you, twere more modesty

For you to be at home.

King.

Let her alone, speake Lady,

I charge you no man interupt her.

Enter Leucothoe

Leu.

If euer pitty toucht that princely brest,

If euer Virgins teares had power to moue,

Or if you euer lou'd and felt the pangs

That other louers doe, pitty great King,

Pitty and pardon two vnhappy Louers.

King.

Your life is not in question.

Leu.

Yes royall Sir

If Law condemne my Philocles, he and I

Haue but one heart, and can haue but one fate.

Eu.

Excellent vertue thou hadst not this from thy father.

King.

Ther's Musicke in her voice, and in her face

More then a mortall beauty▪ Oh my heart,

I shall be lost in passion if I heare her,

Ile heere no more, conuey her from my presence,

Quickly I say.

Eu.

This is strange.

Vir.

[Page]

I told you what he would doe, I knew

He would not here of a pardon, and I against it,

He respects me.

Pol.

No doubt he does my Lord▪

I like this passage well.

King.

But stay,

Stay Lady, let me heare you, beshrew my heart

My minde was running of another matter.

Vir.

Where the diuell hath his minde bin all this while,

Perhaps he heard none of vs neither,

We may eene tell our tales againe.

Pol.

No sure he heard vs, but tis very strange.

King.

Tis such a tempting poison I draw in,

I cannot stay my draught, rise vp Lady.

Leu.

Neuer vntill your graces pardon raise me,

Ther's pitty in your eye, oh shew it Sir,

Say Pardon gracious King, tis but a word

And short, but welcome as the breath of life.

King.

Ile further here the manner of this fact,

Auoid the presence all, all but the Lady,

And come not till I send.

Pol.

I like not this.

Ʋir.

Nor I here is mad dancing.

Eu.

Heauen blesse thy sute thou mirror of thy sex,

And best example of true constant loue,

That in the Sea of thy transcendent vertues

Drown'st all thy fathers malice, and redeem'st

More in my thoughts then all thy kin can lose.

exeunt.

King.

Now Lady what would you doe to saue the life

Of him you loue so deerely.

Leu.

I cannot thinke that thought I would not doe,

Lay it in my power, and beyond my power

I would attempt.

King.

You would be thankefull then

To me if I should grant his pardon.

Leu.

If euer I were thankefull to the gods

For all that I call mine, my health and being,

[Page]Could I to you be vnthankefull for a gift

I value more then those, without which

These blessings were but wearisome.

King.

Those that are thankefull study to requite

A courtesie, would you doe so? would you requite

This fauour▪

Leu.

I cannot Sir,

For all the seruice I can doe your Grace

Is but my duty, you are my Soueraigne,

And all my deedes to you are debts not merits,

But to those powers aboue that can requite,

That from their vastlesse treasures hope rewards,

More out of grace then merrit on vs mortals,

To those ile euer pray that they would giue you

More blessings then I haue skill to aske.

King.

Nay but Leucothoe, this lies in thy power to requite, thy loue will make requitall, wilt thou loue me?

Leu.

I euer did my Lord.

I was instructed from my infancy,

To loue and honour you my Soueraigne.

King.

But in a neerer bond of loue.

Leu.

There is no neerer nor no truer loue

Then that a loyall subiect beares a Prince.

King.

Still thou wilt not conceiue me▪ I must deale plain

With you, wilt thou lye with me, and I will seale his

Pardon presently; nay more, ile [...]heape vpon you

Both all fauours, all honours that a Prince can giue.

Leu.

Oh me vnhappy, in what a sad dilemma stands my choise.

Either to lose the man my soule most loues,

Or saue him by a deed of such dishonour

As he will euer loath me for, and hate

To draw that breath that was so basely kept.

Name any thing but that to saue his life,

I know you doe but tempt my frailty Sir,

I know your royall thoughts could neuer stoope

[...]o such a soule dishonourable act.

King.

Bethinke your selfe, there is no way but that,

[Page]I sweare by Heauen neuer to pardon him

But vpon those conditions.

Leu.

Oh I am miserable.

King.

Thou art not if not wilfull, yeeld Leucothoe,

It shall be secret, Philocles for his life

Shall thanke thy loue, but neuer know the price

Thou paidst for it; be wise thou heardst me sweare,

I cannot now shew mercy, thou maist saue him,

And if he dye, tis thou that art the Tyrant.

Leu.

I should be so if I should saue him thus,

Nay I should be a Traytor to your grace,

Betray your soule to such a foe as lust,

But since your oath is past, deare Philocles

Ile shew to thee an honest cruelty,

And rather follow thee in spotlesse death,

Then buy with sinning a dishonoured life.

King.

Yet pitty me Leucothoe, cure the wound

Thine eyes hath made, pitty a begging King,

Vncharme the charmes of thy bewitching face,

Or thou wilt leaue me dead: will nothing moue thee,

Thou art a Witch, a Traytor, thou hast sought

By vnresisted spels thy soueraignes life:

Who are about vs there, call in the Lords againe,

Lord Pol [...]tes, take your daughter to you,

Keepe her at home.

Pol.

I will my Leige, Rosio see her there I wonder what is done.

King.

Euphues I haue tane a solemne oath

Neuer to grant a pardon to thy s [...]nne.

Euph.

O say not so my Leige, your grace I know

Has mercy for a greater fault then this.

King.

My oath is past and cannot be recalled.

Pol.

This is beyond our wishes.

Vir.

What made him sweare this I wonder.

Euph.

A heauy oath to me and most vnlooked for,

Your iustice Sir has set the period

Vnto a loyall house, a Family

That haue bin props of the Sicylian crowne,

[Page]That with their blouds in many an honourd field,

Gainst the hot French, and Neopolitan

Haue seru'd for you and your great Ancestors,

Their children now can neuer more doe so,

Farewell my Soueraigne, whilest I in teares

Spend the s [...]d rem [...]an [...] of my childlesse age,

Ile pray for your long life and happy raigne,

And may your Grace and your Posterity

At neede finde hands as good and hearts as true

As ours haue euer beene.

King.

Farewell good old man.

Eup.

For you my Lord, your cruelty has deseru'd

A c [...]rse from me, but I can vtter none,

Your Daughters goodnesse has weigh'd down your malice

Heauen prosper her.

Poly.

Amen.

King.

He is an honest man and truely noble,

Oh my rash oath, my lust, that was the cause,

Would any price would buy it in againe.

Vi.

Your Maiesty is iust.

Pol.

Tis a happy Land

Where the King squares his actions by the law.

King.

Away, you are base and bloudy,

That feedes your malice with pretence of iustice,

Tis such as you make Princes tirranous,

And hated of their subiects, but looke too't,

Looke your owne heads stands fast for if the law

Doe finde a hole in your coates, beg no mercy.

Vir.

Pardon vs my Lord, we were wrong'd.

Pol.

And sought redresse but by a lawfull course.

King.

Well leaue me alone.

Vir.

Fare well my Leige, now let him chafe alone.

Pol.

Now we haue our ends.

exeunt.

King.

Is there no meanes to saue him no way,

To g [...] a dispensation for an oath,

[...] that I know except the Court of Rome

Will grant one, thats well thought on,

I will not spare for gold, and that will doe it,

Nicanor.

Nica.

Sir.

King.

What booke is that

[Page]Thou hadst from Paris about the price of sinnes.

Nic.

Tis cald the Texes of the Apostolicall Chancery.

Kin.

Is there a price for any sinne set downe.

Nic.

A my Sir, how heinous ere it be,

Or of what nature, for such a summe of money

As is set downe there, it shall be remitted

Kin.

Thats well, go fetch the book presently.

exit Nic.

Nic.

I will my Lord.

Kin.

Sure there is periury

Among the rest, and I shall know what rate

It beares before I haue committed it.

How now hast brought it.

Nic.

Yes Sir.

Kin.

Reade, I would know the price of periury,

Nic

I shall find it quickly, heres an Index.

he reads

Imp. For murder of all kinds of a Clergy man, of a lay man, of father, mother, Sonne, brother, sister, wife.

Kin.

Reade till you come at periury.

Nic.

Item, for impoysoning, enchantments, witchcraft,

Sacriledge, simony, and their kind and

Branches. Item, pro lapsu carnis, fornication

Adultery, incest without any exception or

Distinction; for sodomy, Brutality, or any of

That kind.

Kin.

My heart shakes with horror

To heare the names of such detested sinnes,

Can these be bought for any price of money,

Or do these merchants but deceiue the world

With their false Wares▪ no more of that foule booke,

I will know what I came to know,

I would not for the world redeeme my oath

By such a c [...]urse as this, no more Nicanor

Vnlesse thou finde a price for Atheisme.

Nic.

Heres none for that my Lord, his Holinesse

Can pardon that in no man but himselfe.

Kin.

Well this is not the way,

I haue thought of another that may proue,

And both discharge my oath and saue his life,

Nicanor run presently, call Matho hither,

Matho the Lawyer, command him to make hast,

[Page]I long to be resolued.

Nic.

I runne Sir.

King.

He is a subtill Lawyer, and may find

Some point, that in the Lawes obscurity

[...]ee hid from vs, some point may doe vs good,

I haue seene some of his profession

Out of case as plaine, as cleere as day

To our weake iudgements, and no doubt at first

Meant like our thoughts by those that made the Law,

Picke out such hard inextricable doubts,

That they haue spun a suit of seuen yeere long,

And leade their hood winke Clients in a wood,

A most irremoueable Labyrinth,

Till they haue quite consum'd vm, this they can doe

In other cases, why not as well in this.

I haue seene others could extend the Law

Vpon the wrack, or cut it short againe

To their owne priuate profits, as that thiefe

Cruell Procrustes seru'd his haplesse guests,

To fi [...] them to his bed; Well I shall see,

I would Nicanor were returned againe,

I would faine ease my conscience of that oath,

That rash and inconsiderate oath I tooke,

But see, heere they are comming.

Enter Matho.

Ma.

Health to my Soueraigne.

King.

Matho, welcome.

I sent for thee about a businesse

I would intreate thy helpe in.

Ma.

Your Highnesse may command my seruice

In that, or any thing lies in my power.

King.

Tis to decide a case that troubles me.

Ma.

If it lye within the compasse of my knowledge,

I will resolue your Highnesse presently.

King.

Then thus it is, Lord Euphues sonne,

Yong Philocles, has lately stolne away

The Daughter and Heire of Lord Polimetes,

Who is his enemy, he following him hard

Has apprehended him, and brings him to his tryall

[Page]To morrow morning: thou hast heard this newes.

Ma.

I haue my Liege, and euery circumstance

That can be thought on in the businesse.

King.

And what will be the issue by the Law.

Ma.

He must dye for it, the case is plaine,

Vnlesse your grace will grant his pardon.

King.

But can there be no meanes thought vpon

To saue him by the Law.

Matho.

None my Lord.

King.

Surely there may, speake man, Ile giue thee

Double Fees.

Ma.

It cannot be my Leige, the Statutes is plaine.

King.

Nay now thou art too honest, thou shouldst do

As other Lawyers doe, first take my mony,

And then tell me thou canst doe me good.

Ma.

I dare not vndertake it, could it be done,

Ide goe as farre as any man would doe.

King.

Yes if twere to cut a poore mans throat you could,

For some rich griping Land-lord you could grin'd

The face of his poore Tenant, stretch the Law

To serue his turne, and guided by his Angels,

Speake Oracles more then the tongues of men,

Then you could find exceptions, reseruations,

Stand at a word, a silible, a letter,

Or coine some scruples out of your owne braines,

But in a cause so full of equity

So charitable as this, you can find nothing,

I shall for euer hate all your profession.

Ma.

I do beseech your Highnesse to excuse me,

I cannot doe more then your lawes will let me,

Nor falsifie my knowledge nor my conscience.

King.

Then I am miserable, rise Matho rise,

I do not discommend thy honesty,

But blame my owne hard fate, ay Philocles

I would redeeme thy life at any price,

But the Starres crosse it, cruell fate condemnes thee.

Exeunt.

[Page] Enter Constable and Watch.

Con.

Come fellow watchmen, for now you are my fellowes,

Watch.

I [...] pleases you to call vs so master Constable.

Con.

I do it to encourage you in your office, it is a tricke that we commanders haue, your great Captains call your souldiers fellow souldiers to encourage them.

2. Watch.

Indeed and so they do, I heard master Curate trading a story booke tother day to that purpose.

Con.

Well I must shew now what you haue to do, for I my selfe before I came to this prefermity, was as simple as one of you, and for your better destruction, I will deride my speech into two parts. First, what is a watchman. Secondly, what is the office of a watchman. For the first, fany man aske me what is a watchman, I may answer him, he is a man as others are, nay a tradesman, as a Vintner, a Tayler, or the like, for they haue long bils.

[...]. Wat.

He tels vs true neighbour, we haue bils indeed.

Con.

For the second, what is his office; I answer, he may by vertue of his office reprehend any person, or persons, that w [...]lke the streets too late at a seasonable houre.

4. Wat

may we indeed master Constable.

Con.

Nay, if you meet any of those rogues at seasonable houres, you may by vertue of your office commit him to prison, and then aske him whither he was going.

[...]. Watch.

Why thats as much as my Lord Maior does.

Con.

True, my Lord Maior can doe no more then you in that point.

2. Wat.

But master constable what if hee should resist vs.

Con.

Why if he do resist, you may knocke him downe, and then [...]id him stand, and come afore the Constable. So [...] you are sufficiently cnstructed concerning you office take your stands, you shall heare rogues walking at these seasonable houres, I warrant you, stand close.

Enter Eugenio.

[Page]

Purpose, now doe I take as much care to be apprehended,

As others doe to scape the watch, I must speake

To be ouerheard, and plainly too, or els these dolts

Will neuer conceiue mee.

Con.

Harke who goes by?

Eu.

Oh my conscience, my conscience, the teror of a Guilty conscience.

Con.

How, conscience talkes hee of,

He's an honest man, I warant him, let him passe

2. Wa.

I I, let him passe, good night honest gentleman.

Eu.

These are wise officers, I must bee plainer yet.

That gold, that cursed gold, that made me poison him

Made me poison Eugenio.

Con.

How made me poison him, he's a knaue I warrant him.

3. Wa.

M. Constable has found him already,

Con.

I warant you a knaue cannot passe me, go reprehend him, Ile take his excommunication my selfe.

1. Wa.

Come afore the constable

2. Wa.

Come afore the Constable.

Con.

Sirrah, sirrah, you would haue scap'd

Would you, no sirrah you shall know the Kings

Officers haue eyes to heare such roagues as you,

Come sirrah, confesse who it was you poison'd, he

Lookes like a notable roague.

1. Wa.

I dooe not like

His lookes.

2. Wa.

nor I.

Con.

You would deny it

Would you sirra, we shall sift you,

Eu.

Alas master

Con.

I cannot now deny what I have said

You ouer heard me, I poisoned Eugenio sonne to

Lord Polimetes.

1. Wa.

Oh rascall.

2. Wa.

Young Landlord.

Con.

Let him alone, the law

Shall punish him, but sirra where did you poison

Him.

Eu.

About a dayes iourney hence, as he was

Comming hom from Athens I met him, and

Poisoned him.

Con.

But sirrah who set you a worke

Confesse, I shall finde out the whole ne [...] of there

Rogues, speake.

Eu.

Count Virro hired me to do it.

Con.

Oh lying Rascall.

1. Wat.

Nay he that will steale will lye.

2. Wat.

Ile beleeue nothing he sayes.

3. Wat.

[Page]

Be lye a man of worship.

4. Wat.

A noble man

Con.

Away with him, Ile heare no more, remit him to

Prison; Sirrah, you shall heare of these things

To morrow, where you would be loath to heare vm.

Come lets goe.

exeunt.

Actus quintus.

Enter Franklin, Shallow, Luce, Francisco in a Parsons habit, and a true Parson otherwise attyred.

Frank.

ILe take your counsell Sir, Ile not be seene in't, but meete you when tis done, youle marry them.

Fran.

Feare not that Sir, Ile doe the deede.

Frank.

I shall rest thankfull to you, till then Ile leaue you.

Sha.

I pray father leaue vs, wee know how to behaue our selues alone, mee thinkes Luce wee are too many by two yet.

Luce.

You are merry Sir.

exeunt manet Franklin.

Frank.

Now they are sure or neuer, poore Francisco

Thou metst thy match, when thou durst vndertake

To ouerreach me with tricks, wher's now your Sumner?

Fore heauen I cannot but applaud my braine,

To take my daughter euen against her will,

And great with child by another, her shame publisht,

She cited to the Court, and yet bestow her

On such a fortune as rich Shallow is,

Nay that which is the Master-peece of all,

Make him beleeue 'tis his, though he nere toucht her,

If men nere met with crosses in the world,

There were no difference twixt the wise and fooles,

[...] ile goe meete vm, when tis done, I feare not.

exit.

Enter Francisco, Parson, Shallow, Luce.

Fran.

Nay fret not now, you haue beene worse abusd

[Page]If you had married her, she neuer lou'd you.

Luce.

I euer scorn'd thy folly and hated thee, though

Sometimes afore my father I would make an Asse

Of thee.

Shal.

Oh women, monstrous women,

Little does her father know who has married her.

Luce.

Yes, he knowes the Parson married me,

And you can witnesse that.

Fran.

And he shall know the Parson will lye with her.

Shal.

Well Parson, I will be reuenged on all thy coate,

I will not plough an Acre of ground for you to

Tyth, Ile rather pasture my neighbours cattle

For nothing.

Par.

Oh be more charitable Sir, bid God giue vm ioy.

Shal.

I care not greatly if I do, he is not the first

Parson that has taken a gentlemans leauings.

Fran.

How meane you Sir?

Shal.

You guesse my meaning, I hope to haue good luck

To horse-flesh now she is a Parsons wife.

Fran.

You haue laine with her then Sir.

Shal.

I cannot tell you that, but if you saw a woman with child without lying with a man, then perhaps I haue not.

Luce.

Impudent Coxcombe, darest thou say that euer thou layst with mee, didst thou euer so much as kisse my hand in priuate.

Shal.

These things must not be spoken of in company.

Luce.

Thou know'st I euer hated thee.

Shal.

But when you were i'th good humour you would tell me another tale.

Luce.

The foole is mad, by heauen my Francisco I am wrong'd.

He discouers himselfe.

Fran.

Then I must change my note, sirrah, vnsay

What you haue spoken, sweare here before

The Parson and my selfe, you neuer toucht her, or

Ile cut thy throat, it is Francisco threatens thee.

Shal.

I am in a sweete case, what should I doe now, h [...]

Father thinkes I haue laine with her, if I deny it

Heele haue about with me, if I say I haue, this

Young rogue will cut my throat.

Fran.

[Page]

Come will you sweare.

Shal.

I would I were fairely off, I would lose my wench with all my heart, I sweare.

Fran.

So, now thou art free from any imputation that his tongue can stick vpon thee.

Enter Franklin.

Frank.

Well now I see tis do [...]e.

Shal.

Her's one

Shall [...] with you.

Frank.

God giue you ioy sonne

[...]

Fran.

I thanke you father.

Frank.

How' [...] this, Francisco in the Parsons habite,

Fran

I haue married her as you bad me Sir, but this

Was th [...] truer Parson of the two, he tyed the

[...] and this Gentleman is our witnesse▪

[...]

[...] vndone, Strumpet thou hast betraied thy [...] beggery, to shame beside [...], and that in open Court, [...] what thou hast sought, hang, beg, and starue, ile [...].

[...]

Good Sir.

S [...]l.

I told you what would come on't.

[...]

How did your wisedome lose her?

[...]

[...] you see▪ I was beguild, and so were you.

[...]

[...] take her, thou seest the portion thou art like [...]o ha [...]e.

Fran.

Tis such a portion as will euer please [...] for her sake be not vnnaturall.

[...]

Do not reiect me father.

Fran.

But for the fault [...] were for, or shame shee should endure in [...], behold her yet an vntoucht Virgin, Cushion come [...] Shallow, take your child vnto you, make [...] proue as wise as the father.

Hosting [...] the Cushion at him.

Frank

This is more strange then [...]ther, ah Luce, we [...]

[...] so subtill to deceiue thy selfe, and me; well

[...], tis thine owne choise.

[...]

Sir we can force no bounty from you, and there [...] must rest content with what your pleasure is.

Enter Euphues, Alphonso.

[...]

[...] he is my Lord, that's he in the Parsons [...] thus disguisd about the businesse I told you of [Page] Lysandro, see your noble father.

Eu.

Welcome my long lost sonne from all the stormes

Of frowning fortune that thou hast endur'd

Into thy fathers armes.

Luce.

I [...] my Francisco noble.

Frank.

Lord Euphues sonne, I am amaz'd.

Eup.

I heare Lysandro that you are married.

Francisco.

Yes my Lord, this is my Bride, the Daughter and Heyre of this rich Gentleman, twas onely she that when my state was nothing, my poore selfe and Parentage vnknowne, vouchsaf't to know, nay grace mee with her loue, her constant loue.

Euph.

Such merit must not be forgot my sonne,

Daughter much ioy attend vpon your choise.

Fran.

Now wants but your consent.

Frank.

Which with a willing heart I do bestow,

Pardon me worthy sonne, I haue so long

Beene hard to you, twas ignorance

Of what you were, and care I tooke for her.

Fran.

Your care [...]edes no Apo [...]ogy.

Euph.

But now Lysandro I must make thee sad

Vpon thy wedding day, and let thee know

There is no pure and vncompounded ioy

Lent to [...], in depth of woe

Thou [...] the knowledge of thy parentage,

Thy elder [...] Philocles must dye,

And [...], our name and house

Had [...] euer, had not gracious heauen

Sent as a [...] to my [...] age,

Thy long lost selfe supporter of the name.

Franc.

But can there [...]e no meanes to saue his life.

Euph.

[...] none, the King has tane an oath

Neuer to [...] him, but since they say

His [...] r [...]pents, and faine would saue him.

Fran [...],

Then [...] wretched, like a man long blind,

That comes at last [...] see the wisht for sonne,

But finde it in ecclipse, such is my case,

To meete in this darke woe my dearest friends,

Eu.

[Page]

Had you not heard this newes before Lysandro?

Fran.

Yes Sir, and did lament,

As for a worthy stranger, but nere knew

My sorrow stood engag'd by such a tye

As brotherhood, where may we see him Sir?

Eu.

This morning hee's arraign'd, put of that habite

You are in, and goe along with me, leaue your

Friends heare awhile.

Fran.

Farewell father,

Deare Luce till soone farewell, nought but so sad

A chaunce, could make mee cloudy now.

Exeunt

Frank:

Well Luce thy choice has proued better then we

Expected, but this cloud of griefe has dimde

Our mirth, but will I hope blow ouer,

Heauen graunt it may.

And signior Shallow, though you haue mist what

My loue meant you once, pray be my guest.

Shal.

I thanke you Sir, Ile not be strange.

Exeunt

Enter King, Nicanor.

King.

Nicanor, I would find some priuy place

Where I might stand vnseene, vnknowne of any,

To heare the arraignment of yong Philocles.

Ni.

The Iudges are now entring, please you Sir

Heere to ascend, you may both heare and see.

King.

Well Ile goe vp,

And like a iealous husband heere and see

That that will strike me dead, am I a King

And cannot pardon such a small offence,

I cannot doo't, nor am I Caesar now,

Lust ha [...] vncrown'd me, and my rash tane oath

H [...]s [...] of a Kings prerogatiue,

Come come Nicanor, helpe me to ascend,

And [...]ee that fault that I want power to mend.

Ascendant

[...] ▪ Iudges, Virro, Polimetes, Euphues, Francisco, Leucothoe, Clerimont, Roscio.

1. Iu.

Bring forth the prisoner, where are the witnesses?

Pol.

Here my Lords, I am the wrong'd party,

And the fact my man, here besides the Officers

[Page]That tooke them can iustifie.

2. Iu.

That's enough.

Enter Philocles with a guard.

1. Iu.

Philocles stand to the Barre, and answere to such

Crimes as shall be here obiected against thy life.

Reade the enditement.

Phi.

Spare that labour,

I do confesse the fact that I am charg'd with,

And speake as much as my accusers can,

As much as all the witnesses can proue,

Twas I that stole away the Daughter and Heire

Of the Lord Polimetes, which wert to doe againe

Rather then lose her, I againe would venture,

This was the fact, your sentence honour'd fathers.

Cler.

Tis braue and resolute.

1. Iu.

A heauy sentence noble Philocles,

And such a one, as I could wish my selfe

Off from this place, some other might deliuer,

You must dye for it, death is your sentence.

Phi.

Which I embrace with willingnesse, now my Lord,

to Pol.

Is your hate glutted yet, or is my life

Too poore a sacrifice to appease the rancor

Of your inueterate malice, if it be to

Inuent some scandall that may after blot

My reputation, father dry your teares,

Weepe not for me, my death shall leaue no staine

Vpon your bloud, nor blot on your faire name▪

The honour'd ashes of my ancestors

May still rest quiet in their teare wet Vrnes

For any fact of mine, I might haue liu'd

If heauen had not preuented it, and found

Death for some foule dishonourable act.

Brother farewell, no sooner haue I found

to Francisco

But I must leaue thy wisht for company.

Farewell my dearest loue, liue thou still happy,

And may some one of more desert then I,

Be blest in the enioying what I loose,

I neede not wish him happinesse that has thee,

[Page]For [...] bring it may hee proue as good

[...] worthy.

[...]

dearest Philocles,

[...] for any man but thee

[...] good my Lords

[...] both together

[...] alike, why should the law

[...] and lay it all on him,

[...] would we could as lawfully

[...] hee should not dye for this,

[...] Constable leading Eugenio.

[...], whose that you haue brought there?

[...] A benefactor, if it please your Lordships,

[...] him in my watch last night.

[...]

Wha [...]'s his offence?

Con,

murder.

[...]

No master Constable, twas but poisoning of a man.

[...]

[...] a foole.

[...]

[...] for euer, all will out.

[...]

What proofes haue you against him?

[...]

His owne profession if it please your honor.

[...]

And [...] ill profession, to be a murderer, thou

[...] has confe [...] the fact.

[...].

Yes my Lord, hee cannot deny it.

[...]

Did he not name the party who it was that he had [...]

Con.

marry with reuerance be it spoken.

[...] my Lord Polimetes his sonne.

[...]

How's this

1. Iu

He di'd long sence at Athens.

[...]

I cannot tell what I should thinke of it,

[...] the man that lately brought me newes

[...]

[...] to the barre, thou [...] thy accusation

[...] say.

Eug.

Ah my good Lord,

[...] deny what I haue saide,

[...], as my bleeding heart

Was making confession of my crime.

C [...]n.

I told him an [...] shall please your Lordships

[...] Kings officers had eies to heare such rascalls.

1. Iu.

[Page]

You haue bin carefull in your office Constable,

You may now leaue your Prisoner,

Con.

Ile leaue the fell on with your Lordship.

1. Iu.

Farewel good

Con.

Murder I see will out.

exit Con.

Why didst thou poison him.

Eug.

I was poore,

And want made me be hir'd.

2. Iu.

Hir'd, by whom?

Eu.

By Count Ʋirro,

There he stands.

Ʋir.

I do beseech your Lordships not to credit

What this base fellow speakes, I am innocent.

1. Iu.

I doe beleeue you are, sirrah speake truth,

You haue not long to liue.

Eu.

Please it your Lordship

I may relate the manner.

3. Iu.

doe.

Eug.

Eugenio was aliue when first the newes

Was spred in Syracuse he was dead,

Which false report Count Virro crediting,

Became an earnest suitor to his Sister

Thinking her Heyre, but finding afterwards

Her brother liu'd, and comming home

Not a dayes iourney hence, he sent me to him,

And with a promise of fiue hundred crownes

Hir'd me to poyson him, that this is true

Heer's his owne hand to witnesse it against him,

Please it your Lordships to peruse the writing.

1. Iu.

This is his hand.

2. Iu.

Sure as I liue,

I haue seene Warrants from him with iust these

Carracters.

3. Iu.

Besides me thinkes this fellowes

Tale is likely.

Pol.

Tis too true,

This fellowes suddaine going from my house

Put me into a feare.

1. Iu.

Count Virro, stand to the barre,

What can you say to cleere you of this murder?

Vir.

Nothing my Lords, I must confesse the fact.

2. Iu.

Why then against you both doe I pronounce.

Sentence of death.

Amb.

The Law is iust.

Pol.

Wretch that I am, is my dissembled griefe

Turn'd to true sorrow, were my acted teares

[Page]But Prophesies of my ensuing woe,

And is he truely dead. oh pardon me

De [...]ie Ghost of my Eugenio, twas my fault

That cal'd this hasty vengeance from the Gods,

And shortened thus thy life, for whilst with tricks

[...]ought to fasten wealth vpon our house,

[...]rought a Canniball to be the graue

Of me and mine, base bloudy murderous Count.

V [...]r.

Vile Cousner, cheating Lord, dissembler.

[...]. Iu.

Peace, stop the mouth of malediction there,

This is no place to raile in.

[...]

Ye iust powers,

[...]at to the quality of mans offence,

[...] [...]pe your correcting rods, and punish there

Where he has sinn'd, did not my bleeding heart

[...] such a heauy share in this dayes woe,

[...] could with a free soule applaud your iustice.

Pol.

Lord Euphues and Philocles forgiue me

To make amends, I know's impossible

For what my malice wrought, but I would faine

[...] that might testifie my griefe

[...] repentance.

Eu.

This is that I look't for.

[...]

Y [...]re kind too late my Lord, had you bin thus

[...] required, y'had sau'd your selfe and me,

[...] sonnes, but if your griefe be true

[...] you heartily.

Phi.

And I,

[...]

Now comes my que, my Lord Polimetes,

[...] correction let me aske one question.

[...]

What question? speake.

Eu.

if this young Lord

[...], would you bestow your Daughter

[...] vpon him, would you Lord?

[...]

As willingly as I would breath my selfe.

[...]

Then dry all your eyes,

[...] heare shall haue a cause to weeke,

to Phil.

[...], Leucothoe is no Heire,

[...] liues, and that cleares you Count Virro

[...] murder.

All.

How, liues?

Eu.

[Page]

Yes liues to call thee brother Philocles.

He discouers himselfe.

Leu.

Oh my deare Brother.

Pol.

My sonne,

Welcome from death.

Eu.

Pardon me good my Lord that I thus long

Haue from your knowledge kept my selfe conceal'd,

My end was honest.

Pol.

I see twas,

And now sonne Philocles giue mee thy hand,

Heere take thy wife, she loues thee I dare sweare,

And for the wrong that I intended thee,

Her portion shall be double what I meant it.

Phi.

I thanke your Lordship.

Pol.

Brother Euphues,

I hope all enmity is now forgot

Betwixt our houses.

Eu.

Let it be euer so, I do embrace your loue.

Vir.

Well my life is sau'd yet, though my wench be lost,

God giue you ioy.

Phi.

Thankes good my Lord.

1. Iu.

How suddenly this tragicke sceane is charg'd,

And turn'd to Comedy

2. Iu.

Tis very strange.

The King speakes from [...]

Pol.

Let vs conclude within.

King.

Stay,

And take my ioy with you.

Eup.

His Maiesty

Is comming downe, let vs attend.

Enter King.

King.

These iarres are well clos'd vp, now Philocles,

What my rash oath deni'de me, this blest how [...]e

And happy accident has brought to passe,

The sauing of thy life.

Phi.

A life my Leige,

That shall be euer ready to be spent

Vpon your seruice.

King.

Thankes good Philocles,

But wher's the man whose happy presence brought

All this vnlook't for sport: where is Eugenio?

Eu.

Heere my dread Leige.

King.

Welcome to [...]

Welcome Eugenio, prithee aske some boone

That may requite the good that thou hast done.

Eu.

I thanke your Maiesty, what I haue done

Needes no requitall, but I haue a suite

Vnto Lord Euphues, please it your Maiesty

To be to him an inte [...]cessor for me,

[Page]I make no question but I shall obtaine.

King.

What is it? speake, it shall be granted thee.

Eu.

That it would please him to bestow on me

His Neece, the faire and vertuous Lady Laeda.

Euph.

With all my heart, I know 'twill please her well,

I haue often heard her praise Eugenio,

It shall be done within.

King.

Then here all strife ends,

Ile be your guest my selfe to day, and helpe

To solemnize this double marriage.

Pol.

Your royall presence shall much honour vs.

King.

Then leade away, the happy knot you tye,

Concludes in loue two houses enmity.

FINIS.

[Page]

EPILOGVS.

OVr Authors heire if it be legitimate

Tis his, if not, he dares the worst of fate,

For if a Bastard, charity is such,

That what you giue, it cannot be too much,

And he, and we, vow if it may be showne,

To doe as much for yours, as for our owne.

FINIS.

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