Loves Victory: A TRAGI-COMEDY.

BY WILLIAM CHAMBERLAINE Of Shaftsbury in the County of Dorset.

—Odiumque perit,
Cum jussit amor, veteres cedunt
Ignibus irae—

LONDON; Printed by E. Cotes, and are to be sold by Robert Clavell at the Stags-head neer St. Gregories Church in St. Pauls-church-yard. 1658.

To the Right Worshipful Sir WILLIAM PORTMAN, Baronet.

SIR,

ERe diverted by more serious Studies, which the benefit of an excellent Education espous'd to a natural inge­nuity, will soon render the rathe-ripe fruits of Your pregnant Wit, I hope it wil in me appear no unbecoming boldness, whilst your youth claimes the priviledge of Recreations, to present you with this, which though trivial in it self, improved b [...] your acceptance, may become worthy the view of others; who beholding your Name beautifie its front, may give it as fair an esteem as if they saw it adorned [Page] with all the advantages of the Publique Stage; which since this rigid Age hath silenced, (if I may be so happy to ob­tain) I shall value your single acceptance beyond the loud applause of a Theater. If the Reading afford you but as many minutes as the Composure did me hours of retired content, I shall think these low delights of youthful fancy worthy the esteem of my maturer thoughts, to which the burthens of imployment ha [...] now added (if not more Judgement▪ yet more Solidity. Nor shall I repent to have rowz'd it from its so long ly­ing dormant, it being then in the embryo, when with us, War first made the pre­sent Age unhappy, so may have some­thing to exscuse the roughness of its style▪ its production being whilst I sacrifice to Minerva in the Temple of Mars Deities, which we have fair Prog­nosticks [Page] may be both propitio [...] fu­ture Achievements; for which, toge­ther with an affluence of all other per­fections, shall ever be sacrificed the hear­ty prayers of

SIR,
Your Devoted Servant William Chamberlaine.
[...]
[...]

To the Reader.

SInce by this active Age't hath been thought best
With their grave earnest to crush Plots in jest;
The mourning Stage being silent, justly I
May change a Prologue to Apologie;
That so in private each Spectator may
Singly receive his welcome to a Play.
But here expect no parasite, that sin
Justly condemn'd the Stage, though since't hath been
Hug'd by pretence with such hot zeal, as pickles
Mad Sectaries for midnight Conventicles.
Yet though I bring no Opiate to allay
Thy feverish guilt, nor tune my Muse to play
Thy soul into a Lethargie, here lies
No Satyr, less, hid in some sins disguise,
Which should'st thou but seem startl'd at, 'twould be
An argument of some affinity
Betwixt thy thoughts and that. They foolish hate
That rails at those, raised by whatever fate
Above their wishes, doth but vainly show
By their own wounds what they intend their foe;
[Page] Whilst graver wits, who by afflictions thrive,
Make Balm of what was meant a Corrasive.
That sickly genius whom no lines can please
But those that rail their Author to disease,
May still frown here; For know, I durst not write
An ages ruine in an hours delight.
Though this imperfect embryo was begot
Whilst Clamorous wars wilde fury was so hot
It dry'd up Helicon, and in distress
Forc't the sad Muses to a wilderness,
Which inrag'd man (that worst of Beasts) had made
A Scene of bloud, where guilty hands invade
Poor trembling innocence, 'twas brought to light
Unlike that ghastly Parent, since none fight
Within these lists, but such as only prove
Their Valour where the Victory is Love.

A Catalogue of the Actors.

  • The King of Sicilia.
  • Oroandes General of his Army.
  • Zannazarro a yong Lord in Rebellion.
  • Arratus an old Courtier.
  • Carlo a rich Citizen.
  • Vanlore a Noble Gentle­man, but of a low for­tune.
  • Buffonie a simple Clown, Nephew to Arratus.
  • Gudgeon his man.
  • Creon and Lewcippus two cheats.
  • Heroina Princess of Re­gium Mistris to the King.
  • Glorianda Princess of Cyprus Mistris to Zannazarro.
  • Eurione Sister to Zan­nazarro Mistris to Oroandes.
  • Theocrine Daughter Carlo Mistris to Van lore.
  • The Father and Mother [...] Buffonie, Priests, Souldiers, and Attendants.

Loves Victory.

Actus Primus. Scena Prima.

A Funeral march: A Goffin born over the Stage. Oroandes and his followers in mourning. Ex.
Enter Cleon and Lewcippus.
Cre.
THis is the place, is't not Lewcippus?
Lew.

The same, nor will our under-officer delay us long.

Cre.
If this Goose prove not well featherd, our hopes
Are blown up: our only happiness is, we have our
Limbs to help us, whilst others must halt out their
Wants in a Hospital.
Lew.
Yes, and have their pensions paid them in rotten
Tobacco, and carv'd bonelace sticks for bread.
Cre.
Thou art in the right, for the better rewards are
Reserv'd for the deca [...]ed sons oth' shop, or decaled
Placket squires, fellowes that dare not not look in a glas [...]
For fear they they should be frighted with the ruines
Of a nose.
Lew.
Well, it was our wisdome not to fancy this
Grinning honour, in the mean time I would sell
My forg'd Commission for a bankrouts bill of exchange.
Cre.
And I my buff coat for a freese jerkin, and all
[Page 2] My airy honours for the greasie steam of a Cooks shop.
Lew.
Here he comes
Enter a Serjeant and Buffonie.
Like the captive Knight of the golden Image;
Don dell P [...]oebo—welcome.
Ser.
Fie—Fie—A Souldier and tears!
Buf.
Doest lie—that doest, cham no Zodier,
Cha been better bred then zo.
Lew.
Twas thy own proffer friend.
Buf.

Yes, but when I wonder? when chad took a pot too much at market, and was a little tox [...]cated.

Cre.
Thou shalt have a sober time of repentance:
S. death! what's here?
Enter Buf mother followed by her husband and Gudgeon.
An Incubus [...]
Lew.
Or else a sury frighted out of her wits.
Cre.

She wants but a perriwig of Snakes to lead the dance of Hobgoblin [...].

Mot.
Why Whore, be these Rogues here? I have been
Frighted out of my naked bed to follow them:
What doest thou amongst these Varlets?
Come home—come home you whorson lout.
Hus.

Nay wife, good wife, do not anger the worshipful Captains.

Mot.

Pew, you dotard, doest think I will be frighted out of my Boy, ti [...] sign thou hast but small share in the begetting of him, that thou canst so willingly part with him—

Cre.
Serjeant away with him, how vermin d'ee bark?
Lew.

To the guard with him, and lay him neck and heels; S. death—affronted!

Fa.
Captain—I beseech your honorable worship.
Lew.
What saist old Cropshin?
Cre.
Go hire thy Beldame a house in a Churchyard,
That when she hath bequeathed her garments to a Pape [...]
She may walk there to fright Sextons.
Fa.
Good Sir bear with her, for when she is up she is
A devill in Carrion, but I will disburse here;
Here is v [...]rty old Angels, and a good vitty fellow
For a supply—
Mot.

How!—part with thy gold! why the Palsie [Page 3] hath shook thy wit out at thy nostrils: must Angels flie to fetch him back? Ile do' [...] without, or Ile scratch their eyes out.

Cre.

Peace good matron, and go water the furrowes of thy cheeks in [...]ars, 'twill look most religiously.

Lew.
Thou hast been so long hung to roof, th [...]
O [...]herwise thou wilt choak the wormes,
And in the next age be sold for mummy.
Bu.
I took my Mother to be good for nothing.
Lew.

Old fellow we incline to pity thee, but the supply looks something wretchedly, there must be some additi­onall advance.

Fa.
We will not stumble at that.
Cre.
Didst ever handle armes friend? Serjeant, try him.
Gud.
Chwas nere thus hampered before, cham afeard tont come ofe.
Ser.
Come, handle your armes.
Gud.

Ich amt well skild in these guns, chave seen them at Mouster set it a vier with the end of a cord, sure these snip­per snappers be a new fashion, beant they?

Cre.
Nere fear, there's no hurt.
The powd [...]r fi [...]ing he [...].
Enter Vanlore disguised.
Van.
Save you Gentlemen;
Lives there one Cosmo Buffonie here?
Fa.

I am the man you spie for friend, vor want of a better.

Buf.
Look Gudgeon—what spark is that?
Van.
I have a letter from the Lord Arratus;
What it concerns, the contents will inform you.
Fat.
Pray master Captain read it, we beant book learn'd.
Mot.

No—whose fault was that you old knave, the Boy had dossety enough and thou wouldst ha put him toot.

Lew.

He here sends you word how he desires to have his Nephew your Son sent forthwith to Syracuse, for he intend [...] to adopt him his Heir.

Mot.

How! why then we are made for ever? Gudgeon thou goest too.

Van.
Creon and Lewcippus, the city cheats.
Van. aside.
Cre.
[Page 4]

But hear, you friends, you first must disingage from us.

Van.
How stands he Sir ingaged to you?
Lew.

How—fellow, go medle with your horse comb sawcie groom: Serjeant—away with him.

Fat.
Nay—worshipful Captain—I will disburse.
Van.

For what? keep up your money, who dares touch him?

Cre.

So bold, my livery creature? Il [...] make thee know Thou't not ith' stable, where thou command'st ore horse boye [...]; Unhand him, or by heaven—

Van.

What will you do Sir? do' think I fear plunder'd Coats and big looks?

Strikes up his heels and disarmes him whilst Creo
Lew.
Devils and fiends,
Shall I indure this!
Van.
Yes, and this too.
Kicks ki [...]
Van.
Come, your ransome is paid.
Fa.
Blessings on your heart, come son Buff.
Exeunt, Om.
A vollie of shot within, the mourners enter, a trumpet sounds, a herald reads Oroandes Com.
Om.
Heavens crown the actions with successe!
Oro.
My gratitude divides
It self amongst you all, the only mean
Of recompence, untill some welcome beam
Of opportunity shall light my wishes
To a requital of your early loves.
But now the minutes languish in sad hast,
And from the sad performance of these duties
To our deceased General we must
Remain griefs debtors, whilst we sati [...]fie
Importunate revenge. You dismal badges
Of their despair, tell us we have an enemy
Whose resolutions are as high and bloudy,
As their condition sad, if they refuse
This last act of an injured Princes mercy.
[...]
[...]
[Page 5] A parle sounded: Enter as on the wals Zannazarro and attendants.
Zan.
What means this hasty summons? is your anger
So swift in motion, that it not admits
Due rites unto the dead? The doleful hours
In which we mourn'd our Fathers funerals
Hath scarce left seals on the records of time.
Yet though the grief sit heavy on our souls,
It's not of kin to fear, we dare to draw
Our swords ere we have wiped our eyes, and in
A peal of Canons, more harmonious then
The solemn Bell, thunder his funeral peal.
Oro.
Tis pitty a resolve thus fortified
With valour, should unravel all its glory
In an unlawful cause. This desperation
Valours blind hieroglyphick, wherein nought
Appears but monsters only, serves to fright
Deluded fancie from supreme commands.
Oh do not then precipitate a family
Which may outlive approaching ruine, to
Stand the supporters of this State, when those
That prop it now, are sunk with weight of age.
Nobility, like heavens bright Planets, waits
Upon the Sun of Majesty, whilst none
But Comets drop from their usurped sphears.
Then rectifie your reason, and let's now
Conclude this war without a greater flux
Of bloud then is already spent, that so
Rebellion may not add more sables to
What mercy yet may pierce.
Zan.
You might have spared this labour, though we lost
The strongest Cittadel of all our hopes
In our dear fathers death, those high resolves▪
He dying left as legacies to us
Are so much cherisht, that should I consent
To stifle those brave flames, his angry ghost
Rowz'd from the silence of a dormitory,
Would reassume its seat to chide my floath.
[Page 4] [...] [Page] [...]
I've only with me those few wounded men
Which from the last loud stroak of war escaped
With life, not health, to serve me; yet though their armes
Grown weak with the late frequent losse of bloud,
Sell not our lives at honours highest rate,
We'l fall no humble sacrifice to death.
Oro.
I'm sorry Sir,
That my advice, proceeding from the love
I bear your worth, hath mist its wisht for ends.
—Farewel—All happinesse
But that which waits on victory attend you.
Zan.
The like to thee brave soul, since part we must;
When next we meet, 'twill be in bloud and dust.
Ex. from below: an Alarm within, at which Ex. hasti­ly from above.
Whilst the battail continues, the stage hung with lights and pictures re­presents a Temple.
Enter Eurione, a book in her hand, she having kneeled a while, Ent. a Lady hastily.
Lady.
—Oh Madam!—whither will you flie?
The day is lost, your noble brother taken,
Wars furious Godesse, fierce Enyo stands
Over your batter'd gates, and wheeling round
A dropping pine about her bloudy tresses
[...]ends with its dismall light an entrance to
The ministers of death, the unclaspt power
Of the rude Souldier, like a deluge broak
O're a rich field, the last and fatall blow
Is giving, all our dying hopes. Th' battlements
Sweat oft in flames, whilst loud confusion fils
The inlightned air with outcries, and our shricks
Choak'd in the embryo of our prayers can find
No way to angry heaven: the infant dies
Whilest in the po [...]ch of life, and natures webs
Decayed by age, are rent from out the the looms.
[Page 7] Imaculate Virgins to each touch betrayed
Lie in a tembling agony, their beauties
Like a rich Mine lavisht to vulgar hands,
The injured prize of every impious slave.
Eur.
Weep not my dear companion, thou that hast sha [...]'d
A like with me in every change of fortune,
If fate ordains this the Catastrophe
Of all those tragick scenes, which these late wars
Made us unwilling, though sad actors in,
To us our virgin innocence shall be
Protection safer then the united swords
Of earths most powerfull monarchs.
Outcries within.
Lad.
Oh they are entring, let's flie dear Madam.
Eur.
Whither? when slaughter runs through all
What place can give protection unto us?
Ex. Lad.
En. Oroandes wounded, a Surgeon.
Oro.
To thy charge, my hurt's but sleight.
Sur.
Yet will deserve your care Sir.
Ex. Sur.
Oro.
Hah! what place is this!
Hung round with stately pictures, starr'd with lights!
With what an awfull majesty it looks!
—sure it inshrines some deity—what's she?
—with such a face
Troy's tutelary angell look'd, when all
Her crown of turrets dropt their flaming heads.
Eur. kneels to the altar.
Eur.
If those blest spirits, which freed from all the crimes
Cast on them by mortality, and made
Fit for celestiall palaces, retain
A thought of us, as else our faith deceives us,
Oh let the white soul of some sainted Virgin
Descend for my protection.
She speaks. He draws nearer. She rising from the Altar kneels to him.
Eu.
What ere thou art that in this dreadfull shape
[Page 8] Com'st to profane this hallowed place with bloud,
If in your brest there dwell a humane thought
Telling you that a woman was your mother,
For her sake pitty a distressed Virgin.
Not for my life I beg, but only that
My honor kept unblemisht you would ease
Me of that tedious burthen.
Oroandes stands a while silent, lets fall his sword.
Oro.
A chilling frost unnerves my joints, sure this is
Divinity or Magick that hath thus
Depos'd my reason to let Rebell passion
Triumph ith' injur'd throne—Rise Lady
—there's a religious ice about my heart
That chains up all my fury—I shall rather
Slight the commands of an injured Prince,
Then violate ought which the dictates of
My soul proclaimes for sacred.
Eur.
Oh lead me then to some polluted place
That's grown drunk with bloud, and there let mine
Increase the purple deluge rather then
Let life add yet more burdens to my soul.
—I shall not alwayes be protected by
This places sanctity; or if I were,
Find few of so much vertue to be with
Religious reverence awed.
Oro.
Do not, dear soul,
Mistrust the gentle smiles of fate, my power
Secures you from all future violence
Which in the lowdest storme of fury can
Fall from the steepest precipice of rage.
Zannazarro retreating, Souldier▪ laying at him.
Eur.
Oh my dear brother.
Soul.
Kill—kill the gaudy whore.
Oro.
Hold—I command you hold:
This is a place too sacred to be made
A scene for such a bloudy act, and would
[Page 9] Style what our cause cals justice sacriledge,
Heaven being it self profan'd in the abuse
Of what its power for sanctity devotes.
His wounds seem large enough already to
Let life flie out through all the gards of nature;
Or if they are not, to preserve him will
Be but the glimring of a Taper ere
Blown out by the formalities of Law.
—Hear—search his wounds, and let it be your charge
To use all diligence in their recovery.
Sound a retreat, and you, that bear command
See the rude Souldiers violence be drawn
Within the bounds of mercy. Victories stain'd
With too much bloud are blessings but profan'd.
Ex. Zanna. and Souldiers, ma. Oroan. and Eur.
Do not my dear too much afflict thy self,
Each tear you shead drops from my heart in bloud.
—I'me conquered in this victory, and become
A captive to my prisoner. Come Lady, dare you trust
Your self to my protection, your gardian Angel
Rob'd in virginity, is not whiter then
Those thoughts which clothe my soul when they reflect
On so much suffering vertue. Were my lust
Hot as the womb of Aetna, yet there lies
A secret magick in this touch to cool
Those most intemperate fires. The morning pearls
Dropt in the Lillies spotlesse bosome, are
Lesse chastly cool, ere the meridian Sun
Hath kist them into heat; yet since the ice
Of Anchorites by religious flames may be
Warm'd into holy Calentures, Oh give
My passions leave to move within the orb
Of your Coelestial beauty, whilst no line
Tends [...] the center of a thought unchast.
Eur.
Alas my Lord—this is
No time to play with Love (that child of peace)
When war and death fit by and hold the stakes.
[Page 8] [...] [Page 9] [...] [Page 10] [...] [Page 11] [...]
The impious mirth of the bold Atheist, that
Riots at funerals, and undaunted sits
Whilst heaven in plagues drops vengeance round about him,
Unvests his soul of no more modesty
Then such wilde love would mine, whose growth must needs
Be fatall when sown in a field of bloud.
—Yet I confesse—
If heaven did e're lend balme to cure a grief
So vast as mine, even whilst the orifice
Was warm with bloud, this cordial favour would
Perform the cure: but I am lost to all
The future hopes of dull mortality;
The habitation of my soul is grown
Too great a burthen, since so often wet
With miseries ere to be born with ease.
Oro.
If all my service to my Prince hath merited
Ought worth requital, he must shew it in
Mercy to you, or by a blacker doom
Shake my obedience off. But only grant
Me thus much satisfaction, that when time
Hath purg'd your griefs malignity, and for
These thornes strew'd the soft roses of content
Within your Virgin bosome, that you would
With pity then on my afflictions look.
Eur.
I were ungrateful else: Know noble Sir,
I so much prize your virtues, that if ere
My frowning stars smile on my fate again,
Their powerful'st influence shall reflect on you
In so much thankful gratitude, you shall
Acknowledge it the eldest child of love.
Oro.

My joy growes equall with my wishes; Come Let's in my dear, and see thy wounded brother.

Ex. Oro. and Eu
Ent. Vanlore alone.
Van.
My plot hath thriv'd thus far, I have discover'd
A rival in my love to Theocrine—but such a one
That nature in such haste did huddle up,
She gave him scarce the Characters of man.
How purblind is the world, that such a monster
In a few durty acres swadled, must
Be mounted in opinions empty scale,
Above the noblest virtues that adorn [...]
Souls that make worth their center, and to that
Draw all the lines of action! Worn with age
And wounds to a neglected skeleton
The noble Souldier sits, whilst in his Cell
The Scholar stews his Catholique brains for food.
The Traveller return'd, and poor may go
A second pilgrimage to Farmers doors, or end
His journey in a Hospital: few being
So generous to relieve where vertue doth
Necessitate to crave. Harsh poverty,
That moth which frets the sacred robe of wit,
Thousands of noble spirits blunts, that else
Had spun rich threads of fancy from their brain.
But they are souls too much sublim'd to thrive
Amongst those crudities of men, that fill
The nauseous stomach of the times with flesh
Unsalted with the active souls of men.
But I'm no Satyr, rather now possest
With Loves more gentle spirit, which hath charm'd
Me into strangs attempts; assist me Fate;
Few dayes will ruine or advance my state.
Ex.
Souldiers passe the Stage, Creon and Lew. dragging in Buff. and Gud. in new clothes.
Cre.

Nay, now you are hamper'd Rogues: disobey au­thority!

Bu.
—Oh Gudgeon—they wool durt our new clothers.
Lew.
Lie close you vermin.
They bind them.
Gud.
I ha not known hop munday at this time oth' year.
Bu.
Stand upon thy guard page.
They gag them.
Cre.
Gape Gudgeon—so, now do not talk
Your selves hoarse, this heavy carriage
Shall not trouble you.
Pick their pockets.
Lew.
Farewel—farewel—do not defile your lodging.
Ex.
[Page 12] Enter some stragling Souldiers with Wenches.
Wen.
—A prize—a prize my lads;
How came you hither Sirrah—ha?
Bu.
Oh—Oh—Oh!
Wen.
What canst not speak, the rogues are gagg'd.
1. Sou.
Alas poor fellowes—help unbind them
Wen.
Hang them vagabond rogues, they are some rich Bores Ile warrant them, that have abused poor Souldiers:—here puny—change thy hat and thy sword.
2. Sou.
These are some reliques of their Grand-fathers
Blades that have been tryed in the first Punick war;
Here, shalt have mine in exchange—and liberty to boot.
Wen.
Nay, no hast to be gone Sir, this Coat will sell
To the next Countrey Landlord—yet agen,
These Boots will serve an honester man.
1. Sou.
Nay, thou art unmerciful—
Wen.
Marry gip you milksop fool, thou wert best
Go barefoot so thy conscience wear socks; why man,
This is the farmers eldest whelp, coupled with
A carter, they know how to swaddle their legs
In straw—do you not boobies—
Buf.
Yes—forsooth Mistris.
Wen.
Nay, I should teach you manners, had I the tutoring of you.
Ex. Souldiers and Wenches.
Enter Zannazarro and Eurione.
Eur.

Do not, Brother, venture too boldly on this piercing aire.

Surg.
It's dangerous; Sir, and may recall your feaver.
Zan.
I thank your care, but owe so much unto
Your art, that my recovered spirits tell me
They are strong enough to strugle with disease,
Yet Ile not long tempt danger, only a while
Sit and behold you greedy flames convert
My Fathers palace to his funerall pile.
—Oh Eurione,
Ex. Surg.
To what sad period drives our hasty fate!
We—we of all our house remain to be
[Page 13] The mockery of fortune. Poor girle—we must
Ere long be led to grace the triumphs of
A lawrel'd Conquerer, thorow the throng
Of the insulting multitude, whose mirth
Our miseries will be, from thence be hal'd
To ignominious death, and far remov'd
From the fam'd urnes of our dead ancestors,
With theeves and murtherers mix our injured dust.
In all their Annals, our wrong'd names shall be
Branded with ignominious Epithets.
Our gardian Angels vainly did protect us
Beyond the ruins of our family;
That shower of bloud dropt pretious balm, compar'd
With those prodigious ills that fall in this.
—Why did I suffer all those channels to
Be stopt that drain'd the crimson sea of life?
Were not my hands chain'd in my love to thee,
I would again rend ope each orifice
And set those conduits going, which are now
Lockt in restrictive medicines.
Eur.
Do not Brother
Unthrone thy soul with this unmanly passion,
Prop with disdain, that falling pyramid
Which in the lowest ebb of fortune may
Sit high as Sceptred Kings, and by the strength
Of passive fortitude repell the beams
Of our malignant stars, though darted down
With barbed vengeance on us. Those calm souls
Feel not the war of fierce affliction, which
Preserves heavens peace within their quiet brests.
The bitterest pils earth steeps in gall, are but
That healthfull physick, which the sickly mind
Distasts, but languishes without into
A swift consumption of its former virtues.
I know thy brest fill'd with too great a spirit
To let in such ignoble ghests as fear.
And shouldest thou nurse a meaner thought of me,
'Twould strike a blush upon the ashes of
[Page 14] Our noble Mother, which could ne'r conceive
So mean a thing in great Z [...]ranzas bed.
Zan.
Now thou art sister to the noblest thoughts
My soul extracts from weak humanity.
—▪This balm hath cur'd all mine internal wounds.
Eur.
Then prethee take a care not to offend thy other.
Zan.
My honoured Gardian—
Enter Oroan.
Oro.
Brave Zannazarro, I'm glad to see the bloud
Sit in such healthful symptoms on thy cheeks,
My Princes mandates now inforcing me
Unto a swift removal—Fair Eurione
I have more offerings here to pay, but yes
Am too unsanctified.
Eur.
Those vows, my Lord, my death will soon discharge.
Oro.
I am commanded by a power above me;
But should my victory dip her lawrels in
Your blouds, my own should wash the [...]incture off,
And with your Cypress wreath their wither'd branches.
But fairer hopes in my thoughts busie wars,
Support the ruins of my falling stars.

Actus Secundus.

Enter Creon and Lewcippus, one in the habit of a Souldier, the other of a Dancing master.
Cre.

S-death! thou look'st as if thou wert newly unfetter'd Lewcippus, since thou skip'st into this Dancing suit, but me­thinks thy legs are hardly fine enough for thy profession. Canst caper?—Let's see.

Lew.
As well as thou canst tosse a pike my
Valiant Hector—thou walk'st in such state
As if thou comest Crown'd from Olympus;
Or for a reward of thy va [...]or wert to be
Elected King of the Romans.
Cro.
[Page 15]
No, a Knight of Malta would serve the turn▪
And that if our design prosper, I may bid fair for.
Lew.

We shall no more need to march in back-lanes to shun Catch-poles—hist—here comes the old Courtier and new Lord—

Enter Arratus
Ar.

Save you noble Gallants, and my very Good Friends.

Cre.
That he never saw before.
Ar.
Let the word of a Gentleman confirm you welcome.
Lew.
We had rather have the deeds.
Ar.
You shall be both respectively entertain'd.
In your several functions.
For thou my nimble Lad—
We'l dance Levalto's lighter then the air
When it cuts capers from the mountains tops.
My Nephew's hours of mirthful recreation
Shall by thy lighter genius be dispo [...]'d.
But there is valour in the Boy that will
I doubt disdain the sport, I know his humor
If he be of the right bloud of the Buffonies,
He will be all for Turnaments, and fighting duels
—I will seem not to like it, but it was my
Own humor when I was young, I believe the
Countrey hath bestowed education on him in that kind▪
According to his natural worth—
—Wherefore—my noble Corydon—
Cre.
I am no Shepherd Sir.
Ar.
I cry thee mercy, my brave Herculean soul,
I mean, what de'e call them▪—the followers of
The [...]ullen▪ Greek that would not fight for the losse of his wench.
Lew.
Achilles and his Myrmidons.
Ar.
Thou hast hit it—thou hast hit it
My single sol'd Rascal, I mean the Myrmidons:
Pox on't! I forget these hard names; truth is,
I hold it beneath a man of quality to spend
His time among moth-eaten books, and leave the
More generous recreation of Dogs and Hawkes; some
Shreds of Poetry pickt up among the scoundrel
[Page 14] [...] [Page 15] [...]
[Page 16] Players are all that I make use of;
Yet I honour men of Art and Gallantry.
Cre.
Tis not my use to boast my own perfections,
I've seen some petty portions of the world,
Serv'd under Caesar in the British wars,
Assisted Crassus in the Parthian Conquest,
Been with Porsenna at the [...]iege of Rome,
With Xerxes when his Army swallowed Greece,
And fought for Pompie in Pharsalla's field,
But my last piece of service was to fight
For brave Adrastus in the Theban war.
Ar.
Now by my soul a noble warrier;
But how met you with this man of art?
Cre.
In my travels—and I protest stangely;

As I was passing over the Lybian deserts, I lighted upon the Grand Signiors Court, and being invited by him into the Seraglio to see his Concubines, there skipt into this Gentle­mans acquaintance, he being one of those rare Artists kept to edifie the doxies.

Ar.
Now by my honour a strange encounter:
—What are these—
Ent. Buf. and Gud.
Ser.
Your Nephew Sir
A Servant.
And his attendant—
Ar.
How, are you son to Carlo Buffonie?
Bu.
I am the young Gentleman Sir, and as simple
As I stand here, chad better clothers
When's come from home.
Ar.
And how came you to lose them Couzen?
Bu.
We met with some vermin Zodiars that plunder'd us▪
Ar.
Alas poor Couzen! and who furnisht you
With these new fashion'd Boots?
Gu.
They are the workmanship of my own hands.
Bu.
My man Gudgeon is right, a man of knowledge
Nunckell [...]e warrant you.
Gu.
I will serve your worship in the same kind
Upon any occasion, I have not been a servant
To your brother honest Gotfer Carlo so long for nothing.
Ar.
Thou sayest well friend, I shall imploy thee.
[Page 17] My noble friends, I shall refer my kinsman to
Your care, call for what money you shall see
Occasion of to furnish him with all the gallantry
He is yet capable of; I could wish he had
Been better prepar'd for tutors so ingenious,
But hope to see the sudden effects of your skill.
Lew.
Sir, we shall do our best indevours—
Come my ill clad gallants, we will change your
Rusty Swords for glittering Rapiers,
Your Russets into Scarlet, and feed
Your horses with your boots.
Buf.
What becomes of our breeches then Gudgeon?
Gu.
We will send them home to old Master,
They will serve for a change.
Ex. Om.
Enter the King, an Ambassador as from Cyprus.
Kin.
How full of fatall changes are our lives!
What is't to be a Monarch, and yet live
Trembling at every blast of passion thus!
When all my thoughts in the fair hopes were calm'd
Of Heroina's safe arivall, then
Even then to have them smother'd in this cloud
Of cur'st▪ intelligence—Oh Glorianda!
Each star is dropt out of my heaven of joy;
All our intended triumphs must convert
To funerall obsequies, our Lawrels be
Wreathed o're with Cypress, and the Tyrian robe
Strike all its splendor to an Ebon vail.
Glo.
Your grief is yet but weak suspitions birtch,
And happily may prove abortive, Sir.
Kin.
Poor girle!
Thou fain wouldst into comfort flatter us,
But the malignity of sorrow can
Admit no cordials, when its meager fist
In all her functions grasps the strugling soul.
Hear him unravel the black clew that led
Me into this dark labyrinth of grief,
And tell me then where I have ever lest
Hopes to escape the Minotaure of pastions.
Glo.
Shall I my Lord
[Page 18] Burthen you with the weight of this sad story.
Emb.
Your will commands each motion of my soul,
Though to a sad obedience—Know then fair Princesse
When first our full spread sailes were pregnant grown
With prosperous gales of wind, and all our hopes
Swel'd equall to their full strecht wombs, and we
With joy beheld proud Aetnaes gloomy top
And sleighting Neptune did begin to pray
To our domestick Lars, even then
A spightful storm strech't on the wings of all
The clamorous winds, proclaims a combat, and
Chuses our latitude the fatall lists.
The Suns fair mirrour curles her even brow,
Whil'st white arm'd waves catch at the clouds, and fall
Like liquid Mountains on our sinking Ships,
Our rent sails hang on tops of rocks, our cords
Crack like the fibers of a dying heart,
The frighted Sailer more distracted then
The elements into confusion startles,
The Master vainly cals for help, till by
An angry wave washt off, he loses all
His hopes ith' Seas unfathom'd womb. Whil'st in
These full mouth'd oathes natures intemperate so [...]
Swore our destruction, a calm gales soft breath
Fans off dispair, we now behold none but
Pacifick Seas, but in this new born light
No beam of comfort dwelt we by it seeing
Nought but the scatter'd ruins of our Fleet
Which drest the floud in funerall pomp, but wha [...]
Stroke most amaze, that Vessel where we had
Treasur'd our hopes, the Princesse ship was lost.
Glo.
A sad relation.
Kin.
Oh but too true, too true my Glorianda,
Dev [...]uring Seas have cousen'd our imbraces.
—But shall I lose her thus? go gather all
Those Ships that owe obedience to this Ile
And let their squadrons cloud the Sea, untill
You find her out, or else, by all that's good,
[Page 19] Thy life, though an unworthy sacrifice,
Shall fall an offering to her fathers losse.
Emb.
I go—though in despair to speed.
Ex Emb.
Enter Oroandes, Zannazarro, Eurione. Oroandes kneeling, presents the prisoners.
Or [...].
Thus only may your enemies encounter
Those beams of sacred majesty that shine
Through you from the Sicilian diadem.
Kin.
Rise noble Souldier, high in our love as wonder
—Thus joy encounters grief, but is to weak
For such a foe—are these thy victorious trophies?
There's something in their looks that argues worth,
Were it not clouded in Rebellions mask.
But that's a sin whose black infection strikes
Damps to the heart of Monarchie, and cannot
Be nurst within a States ejecting womb
Without distempering every vitall part.
It was thy mercy when the obstructed sword
Like lightning fled, and left their lives untoucht,
And now our justice must perfome that task.
Glo.
I more then doubt poor Zannazarros safety,
Some of loves old ingredients yet remain.
Kin.
—Why so much woman, Glorianda?
Thou but mispend'st thy pity, foolish girl,
Upon an object, which if not remov'd
Would soon eclipse the brightnesse of our stars.
—Go call the Priests of Mars and Pallas hither.
Oro.
At what wilde fury reaches this discourse?
If at his anger hell lights torches to
Lead them into destruction, there must fall
Some showers of bloud to quench them.
Enter Priests.
Kin.
Here take the prisoners to your charge, and let
Those ceremonies be perform'd, by which
The tainted bloud of sacrifices are
Made incense for the gods; see them prepar'd
Ere the next morning gilds the earth, delay
[Page 20] Shall pluck no feathers from the wings of vengeance.
—S-death! what does't curd your blouds? go bear them off,
That brow that dares contract it self into
A frown had better meet a thunderbold.
Glo.
O they are lost, for ever lost!
Ex. Zan. Eurio.
Oro.
Is't grief, or reverence that unnerves me thus?
—Oh my soul—thou art too weak—too faintly weak
To move beneath the Chaos of these woes!
Kin.
Now Oroandes I have time to imbrace thee,
And hug this cabinet of virtue, which
Contains those jewels by whose soverain price
Our safety was redeem'd. But I have not
In all thy absence let thy goodnesse drop
Out of my thoughts, witnesse this Lady, in
Whose virgin brest I've strove to plant thy worth,
Untill her sympathizing virtue might
Nurst to maturity, which to improve, Ile leave
You to Loves fair Elizium, Privacie.
Oro.
I am—your vassal Sir, but cannot pay
Oblations due to so immense a love.
Ex. King.
Glo.
Whither starts my degenerate spirits!—I was born
Of Parentage high as Sicilies King;
And though their death made him my Gardian, yet
May be allowed the freedom of my choice.
The conversation of our youth had nurst
A Cupid in each eye, ere Zannazarro
For [...]'t by a fathers high aspiring pride
Forsook's obedience to the Crown, and then
A mutual love mixt our souls currents in
One silver stream of joy, and shall I now
Buy it with pride, 'cause his dejected state
Unvested of its gaudy honour stands?
—No—let his titles sacrifices fall
Unto his guilt, so I may him in joy.
Oro.
—She weeps—sure there is more in this
Then yet my thoughts can fathome:
If it be love to Zannazarro, perhaps we may
Prevail by our united prayers—Pardon Lady
My unbecoming rudenesse, I have sorrows
[Page 21] That like my evill Genius on my soul,
Sit cloath'd in sables that obscure the light
Of beauties rayes▪
Glo.
You need no mask to walk ith▪ Moonlight Sir,
But were there flames to quench you, I should shed▪
Tears large enough to quench the rising fire.
Oro.
We are not like to thrive in love that plant▪
The sprightly fruit in such a watery soyl.
Glo.
Yet our affections are perhaps of kin,
Did we discover their originall.
—Let's both disvellop truth my Lord, I blush not
To let you know these tears are only shed
To mollifie those stubborn deities
That sway brave Zannazarroes fate—And think
Yours sympathize in a relation near
As is 'twixt him and fair Eurione.
Oro.
Oraculous truth!—Dear Lady, let me kisse
This hand the index to so brave a heart,
And on it seal allegiance to your heart.
Our souls could nere have met a nearer way▪
But in the rode of wedlock, this hath claspt
All the black lines of our affections in.
One volume, though by natures hand transcrib'd
In different chara [...] but oh! it lies not
In our united pra [...] for to release
The objects of our love from those strict bands
Our Princes rage [...]etters their safety in.
Glo.
All violence would wear the ugly brand▪
Of Sacriledge, else I would try the power
Of all my Kingdom to support their fates.
R [...]egium holds many active spirits that would
Bear his proud anger with as high a flame,
Should I but stir what now conceals their hate.
Oro.
—I have an Army too
Not yet disbanded, which would gladly kindle▪
Their discontents at the least beam of mine,
The airy weight of a few would set
The fatall engin going; but my bloud
Shrinkes to its center at rebellions name,
[Page 22] And as if tainted with the thought from thence
Scatters an ague through my limbs. If all
Our prayers, when mounted on the wings of love,
Cannot prevail, let's mix our bloud with theirs,
And Martyrs die to our adored saints.
Glo.
I shall do something too, something that may
Preserve my name in sanguin characters.
But first let's visit him, perhaps those engins
That batter heaven, may shake his marble brest.
Oro.
My prayers shall wait on yours; and if denied,
A lover die, not live a regicide.
Ex. om.
Enter a Taylor with a new suit, a Hatter, Shoomaker, Spurrier, with other Trades­men.
1. Tra.

Come neighbours, shal's crack each one's our Kan before the Gentleman comes.

2. Tra.
Our Kans, hang the muddle horsedrench,
Let's drink each of us our groat square off
Brisk sack, this forain liquor but
Adulterates our blouds.
3. Tra.
As many of your wives does your beds.
1. Tra.
How this coxcombly boy p [...]
Because he hath nere a one of his ow [...]
We shall shortly have him buy the fee [...]
Of a piece of land, that hath been broke
Up to his hand in the Countrey.
3. Tra.
Did your easie entrance inform you,
Your own was such?
2. Tra.
Go to Sirrah, you are a sawcie boy
To prate thus to antient men and thy betters.
I tell thee, both my neighbor and
My self are town-born children,
And have born offices,
And before thy head was hot to some of us.
3. Tra.
But not before your own was horn'd Sir.
1. Tra.

How you impudent rascall! a little more would make me lay my yard about your ears.

3. Tra.
[Page 23]

But take heed you do not break him; for I have heard though you are double yarded, your wife wants her full measure.

1. Tra.

I protest I will complain to the officer and make him prove it.

2. Tra.

Hist—you prating coxcomb—here comes the Gentleman.

Enter Lewcippus.
1. Tra.
God save your good worship.
2. Tra.
We are glad to see your worship well.
Lew.

Come—what have you brought here?—let's see your bils, thou should'st be a man of might by the largenesse of thy weapon, but without help of thy shears I will pare off half—there, nay take it without grudging, and set thy hand to the receipt.

1. Tra.

Nay, I beseech your good worship to consider a poor Tradesman, our taxations are heavy.

Lew.

Tush! you were born to be made slaves off, come, thy hand.

1. Tra.
To the whole bill Sir?
Lew.

S-death! you crosse leg'd c [...]r, d'ee snarl? thou wert better eat thy pressing iron then reply another word—come you with the ta [...]aty face, thy blew apron [...]its not methodi­cally friend—I protest thy conscience is made of sarce­net, pure and tender as thy wives new blancht cheeks—hast thou set thy hand to the bill?—how! my money will not hold out—but I will send anon—that satisfies.

2. Tra.
Most aboundantly, an't please your worship▪
Lew.
My jolly C [...]ispin, thou must grant the same curtesie.
3.
Oh Lord [...]ir, your worship may command.
Lew.

Thou deservest to be heir apparent to Sir Hue, and to have thy apron a perpetuall winding sheet to his bones; come along with me, and transport your commodities, 'tis your Indiaes.

Ex. om.
Enter Arratus, Carlo, Creon.
Arr.
Signiour, you are welcome.
Car.

I thank your Lordship—intruth so shall your Nephew be to my house—and to my daughter too—or she [Page 22] [...] [Page 23] [...] [Page 24] [...] [Page 25] [...] [Page 24] and I shall square, but I would fain see the sprightly gal­lant,—as [...]ame as I am, I have walk'd thus far on purpose.

Arr.

He will not long be absent Sir, but is that wild head Vanlore dead?

Car.
This Gentleman can best inform you.
Cre.
It was my fortune to close his dying eyes.
Car.
Captain, not a word of our bargain.
Car. aside.
Cre.
Swounds! d'ee think my neck itches for a halter?
Poor Vanlore—he was a Gentleman whose memory
My love to worth ingages me to honour.
Was this not well dissembled old boy?
Aside.
Car.
Rarely—thou mayst be secretary to the Devil.
Arr.
My Nephew—Sir—
Enter Buff. Lew. Gudgeon.
Car.
God save you noble Sir—you'r happily encounter'd.
Buf.
Would the old fellow beg something Tutor?

We will give him Gudgeons old clothers, they are better then his.

Lew.
Not too loud—this must be your father—law.
Arr.

Nephew, take notice of this Gentleman, you may hereafter call him father.

Gud.

He should ha better clothers first and I were as my Master—he had as good a father as this at home.

Buf.

Peace fool and let your Master talk—how lik'st this Cloak—and sword—and boot old boy—ha!

Lew.
You are too rude—observe his gravity.
Buf.
Why, no matter as long as I talk loud enough;
Doest keep any dogs old boy? Ile course my fathers
Crop- [...]ar'd bitch with thee for vorty groat [...].
Lew.
Fie—fie, you must lay no wagers under pounds.
Buf.

Why then pounds let it be—or we have a▪ forehorse of our own breed shall draw with ere a horse in Syracuse.

Lew.
Fie, this is discourse too vulgar.
Buff.
Why, did you not tell me 'twas Gentleman like
To talk of nothing but Dogs and Horses?
Gud.
Yes, and Whores too Master.
Buf.
Thanks good memory—Ile begin.
Lew.
—Not for a world before your uncle
Aside.
[Page 25] That is discourse for Taverns—betwixt the drinking scenes,
Whilst men take breath to throw away estates;
There you may vie obscenity, and lard
Your dry discourse with oathes—but must be civill here.
Car.
His Tutor's giving him good counsell.
Arr.

He is a Gentleman I'm woundrous happy in, for wholesome precepts.

Car.
Will you not give him leave to visit my poor house?
My Lord—his company will be pretious,
Arr.
Sir I intended he should wait on you home.
Captain it is our pleasure, you attend him.
The Citie's full of swaggerers, and he something rash.
—Nephew—we'l leave you to attend this Gentleman;
Bring me wor'd how thou lik'st fair Theocrine.
Ex.
Car.
Come Signior, will you walk?
Buf.
Nay pray Sir go before.
Ex. om.
Enter Oroandes alone.
Oro.
All yet is silent, dark and secret, as if
The powers of night did favour my intent.
Pardon you Gods that have a residence
Within this sacred roof, if I profane,
You are the authors of it, if you own
Affections cloth'd in robes immaculate
As martyr'd Saints imbrace their sufferings in,
Such sure are mine, witnesse that bloud—which when
Warm'd with the pride of victory did grow
Too cold to hatch the embryoes of a sin,
Though there were flam [...] beauty large enough
To thaw an Anchorite. Pity me then, just powers,
And spare your guiltlesse sacrifice. This hour,
This dismall silent hour, is near the time
In which the Priest, with hidden mysteries
To purge his offering from all the staynes
Of secret thoughts, into this Temple comes—I do not know
What earthquakes cold divinity may breed
Within my brest, but sure he must be more
Then man that b [...] her hence, unlesse he wears
My life upon his sword—But I am vain,
[Page 26] Nought but the Gods arm'd with destructive thunder
Are gardians of this place, which if this act
Be black and sinfull, will, when purpl'd in
The guilt on' [...] hurl me into hell▪ if not
Protect my bold indevors—They come
He withdraws.
Enter Eurione led by the Priest of Minerva, in his hand a Censer burning, at which ha­ving lighted the tapors he un­vailes her.
Pri.
Hail noble Virgin—more to be ador'd
Then she whom our fond superstition makes
Our Common-wealths Protectresse.
Eur.
What language do I hear?—are you her Priest,
And dare prophane your own Miverna thus?
Pri.
I would not have your judgment Lady look
On us with much deluded eyes, to think
We pay a private adoration to
This gilded marble, only deified
By some unperfect souls unworthy fear
Whose reason darkned, flew to fancy for
Relief, and from those vain idea's fram'd
Those tutelary powers, which wiser men
Pretend devotion [...]o, only to awe
Irregular humanity into
A dull obedience to their power, which were
Mad to adore those deities they make.
Eur.
Oh horrid blasphemy!
Are these the hallowed mysteries you use
To sanctifie your offerings with, or is't
Your Cruelty now I am neer the steep
And dangerous precipice of death to stagger
A feeble womans faith, that so your mortall
May passe to an eternal punishment?
Had I no drop of bloud but what had been
Fi [...]d with a feaver of hot lusts, the grave [...]
Cold damps unfetter'd by your Princes doom
[Page 27] Had long ere this extinguisht them. My soul
The warm imbraces of her flesh is now▪
Even now forsaking, this frail body [...]
Like a lost feather fall from off the wing
Of vanity, ere many minutes lie
A lump of loth'd corruption, foul enough
Without being with so black a sin deform'd.
Pr.
Deluded innocence! think you that fate should rob
Me of the glorious treasure of your beauty,
Soon as I had injoyed it? What though you are
With your heroick Brother destin'd to
Confirm a simple Princes zeal; I know
Wayes to evade it that shall make him tremble
To touch this sacred beauty, with a reverence
Holy as that he payes unto the Gods,
Whilst you (though now) ordain'd to die a Martyr
Shall live a Saint among the sacred number
That in this temple spend their happy hours
In silent close delights, such as do make
The amorous soul spring in the womb of fancy:
Here every hour that links the chain of life
We fill with pleasures, yet nere feel their surfets,
Degenerate to that pale disease of fear
The ignorant world cals Conscience.
Eur.
How strangely lies the [...]evill here disguiz'd
Within the masque of age and holinesse?
Pr.
Of age!—look here Eurione,
Throws off his ornaments.
Is this a face to be despis'd?—be not amaz'd,
The holy reverence which the people bear
Unto my office, keeps me so much stranger
Unto their knowledge, that I still may be
Secure within the shade of a disguize,
Pleasing the sprightly Ves [...]als, which my youth
Knows better how to do then feeble age.
Had not that excellence of beauty which
Appears in you bright as men fancy Angels,
I had not stoop't to this discovery, but
[...] [...]
[Page 28] With the severity of my office led
You to inevitable death, which now
My love redeems yo [...]om, if with a fair
Consent you meet the vigour of my passion.
Eu.
Witnesse you Gods that see my soul disvellop [...]d
From every thought of earth, how much more willingly
I would submit my self to the imbraces
Of crawling wormes, the cold inhabitants
Of silent dormitories, then to have
My dying hopes warm'd into life again
By those wilde fires of thy prodigious lusts.
No impious villain—when ghastly horror makes
A giddy circle round thy death-bed—and
Thy sins like Furies all appear to fright
Thy trembling soul from her last stage of life,
When thou shall curse thy birthday, and implore
Eternall darknesse to obscure thee from
Heavens all discerning eye, this sin shall not
Make up a link o' [...]h everlasting chain.
Pr.
Must I be then denied, fond girl!—thou hast
Precipitated all the hopes of life
By this abortive virtue, unlesse thou ca [...]st
Command a guard of those imaginary
And helplesse dei [...]ies to circle thee
In forms more dreadful then the night, or death
Presents them to our sears, no power shall save thee,
Thy prayers are sown on unrelenting rocks
Mixt with a wildernesse of air—through which
Thou'lt never find them in their wisht effects.
Tush! this weak resistance is in vain
The Virgin Goddesse stirs not.
She flies to the A [...]tar.
Eu.
Oh hear—hear me you sacred powers,
And from your thrones look on an injured maid.
Pr.
Poor fool—they'r deaf to thunder.
Eu.
Some pitying God protect me.
[Page 29] Oroandes discovers himself and drawing his sword, run [...] at him.
Oro.
—Hold—hold,
There's thy reward—mist thee!
Sure there's no god protects thee.
—Impious Devil!—
Canst thou ere hope to shun me?
Eu.
Oh gods!—why was I wak'd to life again
To see the ruine of my honour?
—My Oroandes!—
Or hath some pitying deity
Possest thy shape to rescue me?
Oro.
Eurione—my hallowed Eurione,
I'm too profane to touch thee yet, untill
Cleans'd in this villains scalding bloud, which must
Be shed an offering to thy injured virtue.
Offers at him, he fals on his knees.
Eu.
Oh hold my Oroandes,
o not defile thy hands in humane bloud
Before such sacred witnesses as these,
Let his worse punishment be to survive
An act so wicked, till the dictates of
His conscience doth anticipate his hell.
Pr.
My guilt amazes me, nor do I know.
Whether with greater confidence to beg.
Pardon from heaven, or you; so black, so foul
Are my attempts against both: but if confession
May be the harbenger of penitence
Although deform'd with sin, I shall dis [...]obe
The blackest secrets of my soul, these flames
Of lust, whose dreadful blazes light me to
Future destruction, may perhaps conduct
You to a throne of safety. Hoping to
Obtain my black desires, when fear of death
Should be my moving advocate, I had
[Page 30] Lay'd counterplots for to prevent the fall
Of the intended stroak. If you make use
Of these contaminated robes, which I
Have more abus'd, you'l find their operation
In wonders seeming ominous, as those
Which drive men to devotions last retreat.
Not that I wish for life, but fear to die
Ith' youthful vigour of my sins, before
Repentance hath inseebl'd them, I beg
Life from your mercy, which shall never be
Lavisht in pleasures more, remov'd from all
The noise and businesse of the world, Ile live
Attended only with my sorrow, where
My private sorrow may no object find
But my own gangren'd sins to work upon.
Oro.

The gods are pityful, and thou mayst live to me­rit life eternally.

Canst thou (my dear Eurione) forget thy wrong?

Eu.

I else should fear to goe where's fate conducting me.

Oro.

Farewell—mayst thou acquaint thy soul with heaven.

Takes up the Priests­robes.
Come my fair sacrifice, these robes can be
Never profan'd, worn to deliver thee.
Ex. om.
The end of the Second Act.

Actus Tertius.

Officers belonging to the Temple set forth an Altar, others prepare a Throne, loud musick.
Enter the King crowned, Glorianda and attendants, the King ascends the Throne, the rest place themselves.
Kin.
THou look'st too sadly Glorianda,
Though funerals do attend the day we're not
To wear the sables of our souls, whilst we
With sacrifices feast the deities.
Glo.
My sadnesse is not grief Sir, only fear
How my frall temper may indure a sight
So full of horror—
Kin.
We will support thee, here now only wants
Sick Oroandes, I hope it is not love that troubles him.
Glo.
He is too wise Sir, inconsiderate women
Are greatest sufferers in that tyranny.
Kin.
Yet let it not afflict thee girl,
He will do well again—
Loud musick, the Priest of Mars enters [...] one side of the Altar leading Zannazar­ro, his armes bound in a crimson scarfe, crowned with bayes, after him two boyes with Censers and sacrificing in­struments.
Softer musick, at which enter Oroandes drest like the Priest of Pallas, leading in Eurione, her robe crimson, her armes bound with a white scarfe, Virgins in white bearing Censers.
Kin.
My rage begins to melt, I could even wish
They might survive the rigour of their doom.
Glo.
[Page 32]
Must I see this and live?
No Zannazarro—here is my convoy to thee.
Draws a poniard.
The Priests lead the sacrifices above the Altar, where unbinding their armes, they give them liberty of mutual imbraces.
Zan.
So—now we have ended, my Eurione,
All our imployments on the earth—this is
The last of all our mortall enterviews.
The wheels of time worn on the road of age,
Will lose their motion, ere we shall again
Meet in the robes of flesh, which must ere that
Change to a thousand shapes its varied dust:
Yet still (—dear girl) our souls unseparable
Shall walk together to eternity.
Eur.
Farewel dear Brother—if thy soul do take
Its flight ere mine—stay for me in the clouds.
They are bound and led to the Altar, where whilst they kneel a Song from within, the Chorus by the attendants to the Priests, who light the fire for the sacrifice.
The SONG.
See, each winde leaves Civill Wars,
The gods approve your Sacrifice,
And to behold it, all the Stars
look through the curtains of the skies.
Peace reigns through every element,
Chorus.
Whilst this fair pair to heaven are sent.
Sparta's dear Iphigenia died
A spotted sacrifice to this
Bright Nymph compared, whose Virgin pride
Sayes nature nought hath done amisse.
And yet this flower so choicely made
Cho.
By deaths untimely stroke must fade.
Romes honour'd Decii might have fought
Ʋnder this youths command, yet been
More fam'd then when their valour brought
The bloud of foes, t' imbalm it in.
Yet this brave soul must fall before
Cho.
With ages frost he's tinsel'd o're,
What's falling now shall rise more pure,
The fatall stroke but sinks the Mine,
Whose oare this flaming calenture
Shall only for heavens Mint refine.
Go then and live where time shall be
Cho.
Confounded in eternitie.
Prepare, prepare the fatall stroke
Which their fair threeds must separate:
Goodnesse may pity, not revoke
The inevitable doom of fate.
What their crimes were, let men forget,
Cho.
No letters but heavens alphabet,
When mortals are from virtue fell,
Their vices should in censure spell.
The Song ended, the Priests prepare to strike. A clap of thunder, groans, and shrieks throughout the Temple, the Priests robes dropt over with bloud, the Images of the gods reverst.
Kin.
What horrid prodigies are these?
The gods are sure grown angry with our prayers.
Pri.
I have been long attendant on those powers
Within this place ador'd, yet never saw
The gods thus moved before. We have profan'd
Something their knowledge cals Angelical.
Kin.
Be gone these gaudy trappings of my pride,
This lowly dust looks lovelier then a throne.
[Page 32] [...] [Page 33] [...]
[Page 34] Lies here no charme
Throwes off his crown and robe.
To release our fears?
The Priest unties their scarfes, at which soft musick from above, both the images turning again.
Pri.
Here—here lies the guilt of our impiety,
The gods are pleas'd again, and those whom we
Intended Martyrs must our Saints survive.
Oroandes throwes off his robes and discovers himself.
Kin.
Hah— Oroandes—what damn'd imposture's this!
Glo.
To what extent of miracle growes this!
Oro.
The arguments of mercy from the gods
Imbolden me to seek the like from you.
My violent passions forc't my love into
Strange labyrinths of attempts. But what I first
Trembling with guilt did undertake, these miracles
Have prov'd legitimate. Arm'd with a high
But inconsiderate heat of fury, when
Eurione into the inmost room
Was of the temple brought, resolv'd to bear
Her from the rigour of her doom, I had
Thither in private first conveigh'd my self
Attending on the hour in which the Priest
With his sad charge should enter, which arriv'd
I that come there to offer sacriledge
Unto that holy function, saw my self
Ordain'd the instrument of heaven to free
Her from the hands of a foul ravisher,
The hallowed lights being only kindl'd to
Make way to th' injur'd object of his lust,
His prayers to blasphemies, his sacred unction
To prophanations more obscene then those
That revell in the sinks of sin were turn'd.
The badges of a reverend age—(these robes
The sacred livery of heaven) thrown off
Appears a sprightly gallant, fitter for
A champion to the stewes, then servant of
[Page 35] The injur'd gods, whose violence had not
My presence rescu'd her, had couzen'd heaven
Of your intended sacrifice to please
His own exuberate lust.
Kin.
This dreadful story
Strikes trembling earthquakes through all my veins.
To what vast monster will our sins unchain'd
From fear of vengeance grow!
Oro.
That this is true, witnesse those powers which own'd
That cause which I (though rashly) undertook.
Kin.
Pardon me you diviner powers—I have
Been too neglective of the charge you gave me,
But will redeem it in my future zeal.
That villains bloud forc't out by torments shall
Begin the purple deluge—For you fair souls
I must forget those crimes heaven hath been pleas'd
Thus freely to forgive—rise higher in
Our favour then was that exalted story
From whence your father fell.
Oro.
Mountains of grief fall from my burthen'd soul
In their delivery: but your soveraign mercy
Must either with one cordiall more relieve
My sickly hopes, or I am lost for ever
Kin.
Thy actions speak thy wishes—here Oroandes
Take from my hand this gift of heaven—she's thine
By their decree.
Gives him Eurione.
Glorianda kneels.
Glo.
Ere your extended mercy shall contract
Its liberall hand, let me be happy in
The full fruition of my joyes—My love
To Zannazarro, though long smother'd in
His fates obscurity, must now break out
In cataracts of prayers, untill you make
Me so much sharer of the blessings of
This happy day to meet my hopes in him:
Kin.
Thy thoughts arrive clothed in the robes of joy.
Here Zannazarro—Imbrace in her thy happinesse.
Zan.
With such a trembling pleasure bodies shall
[Page 34] [...] [Page 35] [...]
[Page 36] Encounter with their separated souls.
Kin.
Now all your seas are calm'd—only my bark
Still d [...]gs her wings beneath a tempests weight;
Yet will I strugle with my griefs to show
How much we to this dayes delivery owe.
Ex. om.
Enter Theocrine and her maid.
The.

Good wench no more, thou'st ti [...]'d me with this story.

Mai.

But had you seen it Mistris you could never have been weary, it was the sump [...]uousest sight that ever eyes beheld, the Kings good grace (God blesse him) is a brave man—by my troth my thought it did me good to see him, but we were all overjoy'd when the sacrifices were releast.

The.
Prithy no more—the sacrifice releast,
Happy are they—but I must die a sacrifice to love,
No helpful Angel will vouchsafe to look
From his blest throne on me; my Vanlores ghost
Is now triumphing 'mongst the Saints, and sees
Or else regards not mine afflections here.
A cruell Father first divorc'd what now
A harsher fate eternally divides.
But know my dear, where ere thy wandring spirit
Roves unappeas'd with sacred sunerall rites;
Thy Theocrine lives but to pay her tears
Oblations to thy memory, and will
Ne'r put off sorrows sable robe until
The mourning wreath shall knit my winding sheet.
—These were the bands wherewith we once confirm'd
Puls off a bracelet.
The obligations of our love—but now
Are seals of my affliction—sent me back
As messengers of his untimely fate.
Enter Carlo, and Vanlore disguized like a Mounti­banck.
Car.
Look yonder she is, in one of her fits I protest:
I doubt she is craz'd, good Doctor behold her.
Van.
[Page 37]

Love—love—I see it by the beating of her pulse.

Ca.
Why how now daughter, never out of these quandaries?
Thou wilt spoil a good face with this puling.
Van.
Your tres humble servitor Madam.
Car.
Nay do not look so sleightly on him,
He hath promist me to cure thee wench,
He is a man of art—come forth of a strange countrey,
And knows more then a thousand of our dull Ilanders.
Van.
Foh—they are buffones—horsleaches,
Know nothing more den the Farrier, how to give
A great drench—pig enough to break de horse
Belly—begar meer pisse-prophets,
De very spawn of de white wich, fellowes
Dat use no medicine but what day pick out
Ofde hedge—not so virtuous as Madams
Old book of receipts—
The.
Sir did you bring this fellow here to rail?
Car.
Tis but his humor, Theocrine, give him way.
Van.

Me scorn de stinking drugist, have no use of his horse, loads of trash—Mine be de pure extract—de spirit of de Mineral, here be de Chimical pill, here de quintessence of balsom—dat which cures all solution of continuity though in de ventricles of de heart—but here be de grand Elixar, the soveraign medicine—that cured the great Mogul when he had been seven year sick of a Le­thargy.

Car.
Doctor—Ile leave her to your care.
Van.
Me warrant dat shall cure her—come Madam
Begar you but dissemble—dis is no inveterate
Disease—me see no symptomes of it in your face,
Dere is no giddy rowling of the eye—no swelling
Of de veins about de forehead—nor does the
Pulse inform me but the systole and diastole
Keep due time—dis love to Vanlore be but a
Pretence, to free your self from him, you hate
The more deserving Buffonie.
The.
If grief for him be my disease—thy honesty
[Page 38] Is as recoverable, now practise hath
Made the malignity inveterate,
Keep thy strange termes of injur'd art to fright
The Ague or a toothake off—My griefs
Are grown beyond imaginary cures.
Van.
Pishaw—suppose you did once love him,
He be dead, and dere be better men dat seek your love,
I have encounterd with dat Vanlore in my
Peregrination, and found him to be a kickshaw
—A man of no worth.
The.
Thou art a villain to abuse the dead,
Had his deserts crauled on the earth like thine,
Tis basenesse to depresse them now he is
Above or else beneath all mortall hate;
But were he living, thy invectives might
Sully the Sun as soon as spot his fame.
Go then, and let the wondring multitude
Admire thee on a stage, come here no more
To scare away my private thoughts, the worst
Of which more pleases then thy company.
Van.

You will be of de oder mind, when I have freed You of all de grief for Vanlore.

The.
It must be by some speedy means to cast
This flesh into the grave that mould of death,
There to be model'd for eternity,
Within whose everlasting springs we shall
Meet with those joyes whose blasted embryo's were.
Here made Abortive. If thou hast a poyson
Subtill as that the eyes of Basilisks
Shoots forth destruction in, with more delight
[...]e tak't then ere a fainting Patient did
Receive thy promist Cordials.
Van.
What stronger confirmation needs then this?
aside.
She's constanter then times vicissitudes.
—Yet Ile make good my word,
Throwes off his disguize.
—Receive my Theocrine
The promist cordiall, and approve my art.
The.
My Vanlore!—may I believe my eyes intelligence,
[Page 39] Or is this joy deluded fancies birth?
Van.
Reall as our affections, when we first
Assimilated souls in sacred vowes.
The.
My joy hath almost rarified my spirits
Into a substance volatile as that▪
Which souls begin their separation in.
Support me, friend, with the relation of
Thy fatall story, or this surfeit will
Be near as dangerous as the dearth of hope.
Van.
For fear thy father should prevent our story,
I must shrink under this dark vail again.
Puts on his disguize.
Tis a relation, Theocrine, will raise
Thy virtue in a blush—thy Father, Love—
—Thy cruell Father.
The.
I alwayes doubted 'twas his wretched spirit
That rais'd this dangerous storm.
Van.
It was—and by a means so full of wickednesse
I tremble to relate it—whilst I lay
Ith' Leaguer at Ardenna, he corrupts
Creon and Lewcippus, two mercenary slaves,
To do what he too long expected had
From the wars doubfull fortune, but those villains
By his gifts thaw'd from their poverty,
Let forth in streams of luxurie their sins
Wilde Catarracts, untill the channell grew
So big it bore the Boyes of reason down,
And lets this secret in their midnight cups
Flow undescreetly out, which by a friend
Of mine inform'd of, from their poison I
Received my antidote, and knowing where
They had design'd the place to steal my life,
Thither prepar'd for my defence repair.
The place was cloth'd in privacy enough
To warrant them a safe retreat, if in
Their black design successefull, hoping to
Surprise me unawares; they here being hid
Attempt my life, but finding me prepared,
[Page 40] Had with a guilty basenesse fled if not
Inforc' [...] by me, first to unravell all
This knot of villany, confessing how
Corrupted by thy fathers gold, they had
Sworn my destruction, which repenting, now
To merit mercy, they ingage as far
Towards my assistance, vowing to obey
What ever I commanded; and to shew
Their faiths example, this dear relique of
Shewes a Bracelet.
Our first affections give me, which receiv'd
With those strict bonds of base soul'd cowards (threats)
Chaining up their obedienee to my will.
I then instruct them with what message they
Should cheat thy Fathers willing faith, thy token
Although the choicest Jewell of my soul
Trusting them with to strengthen impudence
At their return, which done, I left the Army.
The.
But wert unkinde,
Thus long to let me languish in despair.
Van.
That only cast a cloud on the design,
Those villains lavishing the time untill
Detected vice made them forsake the Army,
Whilst I to live unknown repair'd unto
A troop of wilde Bandets, 'mongst whom I have
(Though honour'd with their Captains title) liv'd
Till weary of their sins, yet keep them still
Friends to protect me when with thee I make
A safe retreat unto those desert haunts.
The.
Teach me the way my Vanlore, though it lie
Through dangers greater then the midnight fears
Of sickly brains sully their fancies with,
Through all Ile follow thee.
Van.
Then my good angels cannot stay behind,
Thou must, my dear, pretend to love this fool,
Nay more, consent to marry him.
The.
How!—do not run dangerous hazards.
Van.
We must or else lie still at anchor here.
[Page 41] When thy consent ripens thy fathers joy▪
Ours will grow neer maturity—this disguize
Will furnish me with means enough to know
The night-walks of his thoughts—by which we may
Proportion all our actions—he comes
This kisse, and bid thy Vanlore then farewell.
Enter Carlo.
Car.

A skilfull man I protest, what store of implements he hath? Gally pots, Glasses, and Ventosses, I hope he hath done the wench good—save you Doctor; how thrives your indevour?—

Van.
Prave—prave—better then we expected;
But me scorn to pipe forth mine own praises.
Madam speak for your self, and informe de [...]old
Mounsieur your vader—
Car.
—How is it Theocrine?—ha!—
The.
Well Sir—as the harmonious musick of the spirits
Supplyed with air sprung from well temper'd bloud,
Composes all the organs of the soul.
Only in this calm sea of health I find
Some pleasing spirits hover 'bout my heart,
Things that till now I was not sensible
Of, since I first did love forgotten Vanlore.
Van.
Now de magicall potion begins to work.
The.
Forgive my disobedience Sir,
She kneels.
My hate unto that worthy Gentleman
Your wisdom had provided for me, shall
Pay for redemption all the powers of love,
So you'l not punish it in the denying
That blessing which till now I cal'd a curse.
Shall your consent tell me I'm pardon'd Sir?
Car.
With as much pleasure as I got thee girl.
Now thou hast reconcil'd my thoughts, my gold
Is not more cordiall then this blessed change,
Now I shall live to see thee happy in
Possession of a vast estate.
The.
The man is unto me more pleasing Sir.
Car.
So I would have him as long as he hath an
[Page 42] [...] [Page 43] [...]
[Page 42] Estate to boot, I do not like when love grows
Daring, and encounter poverty, because they
Imagine the threedbare suit adorn'd with a few
Needlesse virtues.
Van.
Vat dinke you now Signiour?
Car.
That thou'rt a man of art incomparable,
As Aeseulapius sell—'twas a cure easily done,
And therefore I hope will not stand me in much.
—My good word shall be ready.
Van.
Me be not mercenary, de generous Artist
Scornes all reward but what comes willingly.
Car.
Saist thou so? then thou art for my turn,
I like when men will not exact—Come, we will
Dine together, and then go visit the Lord Arratus
Sprightly kinsman—Come my girl.
Enter Creon, Lewcippus, Buffonie, Gudgeon, Wenches, Servants, a Bawd.
Cre.

Come grannum, are they fresh and wholesome, such as may be tilted at and not indanger the head of the Lance?

Baw.

Away you wag, d'ee think I would furnish Custo­mers with ware that should not be for their turn? I protest they came to town but yesterday. Since I dealt in the fleshly occupation I have not had better.

Buf.
Thou shall be payed well for them Punk,
There's gold—and here's more left yet.
Baw.
This is a Boy of mettle.
1. We.
Let us alone to melt it mother, Come sir, you are sad.
If any service—of mine might please you, I will
Strive to shew activity in your content, let me lead
You to the private lists of Venus, where
We'l make the bloud dance measures through our veins
Till warm'd with the delitious sport it glews
Our wreath'd imbraces in extracted balm.
2. Wen
We'l kisse you into extasies, and make
Our breasts the pillowes to repose your head.
1 Wen
We'l please each sense with some delight. Your eyes
[Page 43] With unvail'd beauties whiter then the Alps,
Your touch with skins like polisht Ivory smooth,
Your tast shall surfet on the balm of lips,
For Indian gums, the fruitfull vally that
Lies underneath fair Venus mount shall send
Far more delightfull perfumes, and when tyred
With these delitious sports, we will sing
Your wearyed spirits into rest.
2. Wen.
And whilst you sleep our nimble fancies shall
Study some undiscovered passage through
The corall banked straights of love, with which
We'l entertain your naked innocence.
1. Wen.
Our Banquets shall be all on Cordials, sauc't
With strong provocatives, whose sprightly power
Each minute shall create new appetites.
Lew.
The Wenches have ravisht him.
Buf.
Who would not spend Estates upon these Ladies?
But have you ne'r an ordinary bit for my man Gudgeon?
I would not have him sit idle.
Baw.
Rather then he shall want imployment, I will
Venture my self to give him a heat;
But he hath more mind to a Countrey dance
I see he is putting his feet in measure.
Gud.

I wou't we had a Fidler here, I could foot it, I saith.

Baw.

Shal's have a dance Gentlemen, I have an old Stallion within that can play.

Buf.

Call him good Grannum, and let's to't, can you dance Ladies?

Wen.

We will do any thing that tends to your de­light Sir.

Ent. Fidler.
Baw.
Come twist thy guts up old squeaker.
Fid.
Couple your selves, I am in tune.
Lew.
Woot dance Creon?
Cre.

Not I, the sport's too light, let Gudgeon supply my place.

Baw.

Come Gudgeon—thou and I—Play the shaking of the sheets.

They dance. Knock within.
[Page 44] Within—Ho—house—ho—what, all asleep!
Baw.
Hark the Collonel, and the rest of the Blades
Are come—shall I call them hither?
Cre.
No, we will wait on them, come Pupil,
We will acquaint you with the City Gallants.
Ex. om.
Enter three Bandeets, three Sailers meeting them.
1. Sai.
Save you Gallants—where's our Captain?
Here is a prize for him worth a bording.
1. Ban.

—A lovely beauty—S-death! how came you by her?

2. Sai.
Where we found store of other treasure, nay our
Trade at Sea will prove better then yours at Land.
But is not our Captain to be spoke withall?
2. Ban.

Not now, he is imployed, but where we know not.

3. Ban.

We expect his speedy return, but till then I am his Viceroy in our Common-wealth.

3. Sai.
Then take charge of this Lady, but let her be
Preserv'd untoucht for him—and hark you Sir,
Be carefull of it—if her complaints inform
Him otherwise, you'l dearly suffer for it.
Whispers.
Hero.
What dreadful precipice of misery are
My sullen sates descending—Can I hope
My honors safety, whilst my body is
Commanded by these that no Law controuls?
1. Ban.
Come Lady, you must now be a wilde inhabitant
Of these dark woods with us, yet do not weep,
Though our profession seem to promise none,
Here you may finde civility.
Her.
Pray heaven I may, my journey hither hath.
Been full of strange misfortunes—I have found
Crown'd expectations for captivity
Unhappily exchang'd.
Sai.
Valiant Bandeets farewell—look to your charge.
3. Ban.
With as much care as we would strive to keep
Jewels, whose losse would ruine all our hopes.
Ex. Sai.,
3. Ban.
[Page 45]
Come noble Lady—if your birth hath cloth'd
Honour in higher attributes, forgive
Our rudenesse, since the child of ignorance.
Her.
Alas! what ere my birth hath been, I'm now,
A slave to you, and must forget those vain
Airs of ambitious honour, so I may
But find civility enough to be
Protectress of my Virgin honor, all
My others will most willingly be spar'd,
Yet they are such that were I known I might
Perhaps repair these broken fortunes which
Thus makes you run the hazard of the Law.
1. Ban.
We wish this curtain of your fate may be
Swiftly withdrawn, till then, let all our vowes
Prevent your fears, the rudenesse of our lives
May be your trouble, but shall never grow
To a disease more dangerous.
Her.
I live in hopes to gain ability
Of an extent so large as recompence.
Ex. om.
Enter three Blades, Buff. and Gndgeon drunk, Drawers with Wine.
1. Bla.

Stand up brother—come, our brains are not warm enough yet—fill out—here noble brother.

Buf.

Thanks brother Collonel—I will pledge thee were it a Tub full—and pay for't too—here's gold enough.

2. Bla.
Here—a health to my Lord Arratus.
Buf.
Come to my Nunckel—there lies my hat.
3. Bla.
Here Gudgeon, thou must have it too.
Gud.
I ha more already then I can carry upright.
1. Bla.
Round with another health—here
To my brother Buffonies Lady.
Buff.
That's the two yong Gentlewomen of the house—
These be Gallants Gudgeon—sons of fame.
Gud.
She blew them from her breech.
2. Blad.

House—more Wine. here, where be these Vermin?

Buf.
What will they not hear?—let's break down the doors Brother,
[Page 44] [...] [Page 45] [...] [Page 46] [...] [Page 47] [...]
[Page 46] Or fire the house—nay I am valiant too.
Knocks, a Wench looks out a the window.
Wen.

Why, what d'ee mean there Gentlemen to beat my mothers doors down?

Buf.
Some Wine and Wenches you Cockatrice.
Wen.
You have too much already Sir, to sleep—
1. Bla.

Why you harpy, doest think we'l be confin'd to the Lobby.

Wen.
You will have the greater benefit of the air Sir.
2. Bla.
Swounds we'l not be bafl'd thus.
Buf.

No that we will not brother, I feel the spirit of Wine in my brains, and will not be bafl'd.

1. Bla.
We'l scale your windows you Whores.
Buf.

Brother—let's—brother Collonel—Ile in first.

2. Bla.

We will not put you on a matter of such dan­ger Sir.

Buff.

Danger—I scorn the word—I fear it not brother, Ile do it—I and my valiant sword-bearer.

Gud.

Ile not creep in at windows, not I, amongst Whores to have my eyes scratch't out—not I.

Buff.

How—not venter? why thou wilt not turn coward and fear scratching?—shall not be said but we Countrey boys are as valiant as the best of them.

3. Bla.

But the window is narrow, and will spoil your new suit.

Buff.

Come, come—prepare—help me and Ile put them off.

2. Bla.

Valiant brother, thou shall have the honour to enter first.

Buff.
I and my squire will enter this inchanted Castle,
And relieve the imprison'd Ladies.
Gudgeon let's untrusse and prepare for the combate.
1. Bla.
Ile help my brother whilst you prepare Gudgeon.
—Now for the boots.
Buff.
My foot is at thy service noble brother,
Nay off with my breeches too—I have drawers on.
2. Bla.
[Page 47]
Hast thou drawers too Gudgeon?
Gud.

I, but I had as leave a been hang'd as ha come to this.

Buf.
Come now, your helping hands, Ile scale the wals,
Attendant be at hand with my weapon.
1. Bla.
We'l second thee immediately venturous brother.
Come Gudgeon follow thy Master.
Put them in at the window.
Outeries within.
Buf.
Oh—oh—help us brother Collonel,
Draw up thy forces.
1. Bla.

The conflict is begun—we'l leave them to the mercy of the Wenches, and now the guls are uncas't make use of their feathers—here's a prize lads.

2. Blad.

The Golden fleece was but stinking sheep­skin to't.

3. Blad.

Come let's be gone, the Bloud-hounds will pursue.

Ex. om.
Enter Creon and Lewcippus.
Cre.
Pox on the slaves they're gone.
Lew.
This Devill Lust hath undone us.
Cre.
Tis no now time to dispute it;
Let's rather bethink our selves of some course
To preserve our credit with his unkle.
Lew.

There's it, and I am deceived, if I have not found it out; thou knowest the opinion he hath of his valour: I will home, and possesse him that he privately withdrew as we fear to fight, and that thou were in quest of him whilst I come to inform his doting Lordship.

Cre.
Blessed be thy pregnant brain,
Be gone and thrive, I will return upon my cue.
Ex. om.
Enter Buffonie and Gudgeon in their shirts—both bloudy, wenches fol­lowing.
Baw.
Out of my doors you Rogues.
Buf.

Good reverend Matron—we heartily repent— Gudgeon our clothes—what's become of our brother Collo­nel, and the rest of the Blades?

1. Wen.
[Page 48]

Faith even sheathed in your scabards by this time, you ignorant Rogues to come to abuse a civill house and be couzen'd of your clothes.

Gud.
Oh we shall die with cold.
Buf.

Good Gentlewomen give us some slender gar­ments, my Nunckel shall give satisfaction—Oh Gud­geon my Hat and all my fine Ribbons, and my Sword—all's gone.

Gud.
I woot we had our old ones here.
1 Wen.
But faith tis pity to turn them off thus,
The puppies will catch the pip—have you no old breeches?
Baw.

By my fay nothing that belongs to man, but an old armour that a beggerly Souldier pawn'd—and that Ile fetch.

2. Wen.

And Ile lend the page an old petticoat and wast­coat.

Bring forth an Armour and clothes.
Buf.
We shall be bound to pray for you.
1. Wen.

Go arme the Knight whist I prepare the Lady of the lake.

Put the Armor on Buffonie, the petticoat and wastcoat on Gud.
Gud.

I doubt we shall not passe the street for the Scoun­drell boyes.

Buf.
Put it on Gudgeon, and be thankfull.
Any thing to hide thy nakednesse, good Gudgeon.
Gud.
I have played maid Marrian ere now.
1. Wen.
So now you are provided, my honour'd Don.
Buf.

We kindly thank your good Ladyships, we shall be bound to pray for you—tis not so cold as 'twas.

2. Wen.
Come, march my valiant Hector.
1. Wen.

Nay faith here is each of them an old pair of slippers too.

Buf.
Good-be-wy my honourable young Ladies.
Ex. Buf. and Gud.
Baw.
So now let's in and share.
Ex. om.
Enter Arratus, Carlo, Theocrine, and Lewcippus.
Arr.
I wonder at this—when saw you him last?
Lew.

Some three hours since, when leaving him at a Play, whilst we went to dispatch some businesse in the City, at our [Page 49] return we mist him—I perceiv'd some difference be­twixt him and a blade oth' town, and doubt the sword hath disputed it.

Car.
Tis most like that's it, he is resolute.
The.

Must I then be so unhappy when I first began to che­rish love to lose its wisht for object?

Arr.
Grieve not Lady—I hope all is well.
The.
I doubt his valour will betray him to
Some desperate quarrell, in whose fury all
My hopes of him may perish.
Car.
I will go send my servants abroad,
We cannot be too carefull of his safety.
Arr.

Trouble not your self Sir—I have took order.

Enter Buff. and Gud.
Buf.
—Ah—ah—ready to die with cold.
Arr.

What have we here? a prologue to the mask of Witches?

Car.
Some intended sport without question,
Which now will come out of season.
Buf.

Ha! forgot me Nunckel—I am your poor kinsman.

Arr.
Thou art my shame, and mak'st me grieve that ever
I entertain'd a thought of raising thee
So much beyond the pitch of thy deserts.
The.
Let not your anger Sir
Add waights to his unhappinesse.
Arr.
Sure she is bewitcht—you are a moving advocate,
But so it render him not lost within
The place he did in your affections hold,
I shall be easily wrought to pardon him.
The.
That were a love too much depending on
The accidents of fortune to be thought
Worthy of him—I on this Armor look
As spoiles got from some conquer'd enemy,
His garments lost by stealth, not from him took
By any force of man.
Buf.

She is in the right Nunckel, my brother Collonel [Page 50] stole them, whilst my squire and I scal'd the wals.

The.
I thought 'twas some such desperate attempt;
Let me disarme thee love, and see thy wounds.
Car.
Rare Artists! this Philter works wonders.
Arr.
He hath met with some cheat for Knights,
And the nails of whores for steel.
The.

Let me wipe off the bloud, and thy poor ser­vants too.

Gud.

I will not trouble you Mistris, I use to heal such sleight wounds as this by washing them in mine own water.

Buf.
I had rather go in out of the cold.
Arr.
Thou makest me blush unmanner'd fool:
Why doest not with more thankfulnesse imbrace
The tender of her love?— Lewcippus have them
In, and see them once more cloth'd.
I can impute as much to youths irregularity
As others can: but if he leave not this,
My hate may ruine what my love hath built.
The.
I hope your wisdom Sir will look on this
But as an errour, which correcting age
May easily reform.
Car.
—This is an ill sign—I doubt he will spend all.
Arr.
I shall do much for your sake Lady.
—Let's in and see him, though 'twere amiss,
To make him mend, it is to laugh at this.
Ex. om.

Actus Quartus. Scena Secunda.

Enter the King in a night gown, two Pages with lights, one bearing uhe picture of Heroina, the other of Eurione, set down the light and pictures, and ex. Pages.
Kin.
BEe gone, and let me gaze my self to marble here.
Oh I have lost the quiet of my soul,
All peacefull harmony. My eyes have suckt
A subtill poison, and disperst it through
My souls oreflowing rivolet. Oh Heroina
I have defil'd those noble thoughts in which
I should have cloth'd the memory of this
—Fain would I smoother this proud flame—
—But vainly strive—
It hath lay'd hold on reasons battlements.
—This is Heroina's—
Looks on her picture.
The same whose fair Idea untill now,
I only entertain'd within my thoughts—
And must I let this glorious angell flie
From the polluted temple?—I must
—Here lies a spell that charmes me
Oopens Eurione's picture.
—What did I say—
Pardon thou fair commandresse of my soul,
I did blaspheme—this sacred beauty is
Fit for loves highest Altar, where my heart
If sacrific'd dies in Enthean fire,
Pure as the Elements, when quintessene't
Into perfection shall communicate
[Page 52] To bodies glorified—
—These bloudlesse shadows hold no symmetry
In their proportion, this interiour orb
Sits like a smaller Planet near the Sun.
—I should not thus sharpen a Scorpions sting,
If not already Basilisk'd to death.
—But I like Atlas vainly struggle to
O' [...]ethrow a world of fancy—I'm resolv'd.
Knocks, enter Page, takes him a Letter.
Convey this speedily to Oroandes.
The cure is dangerous, but where the sharp disease
Breaths nought but desperation, 'tis in vain
Through reasons Limbeck to extract our thoughts.
Mufi'd in clouds of sin and shame I go
To grope for light, or sink in endlesse wo.
Ex. King.
Enter Vanlore leading in Theocrine.
The.
Be not too confident my Vanlore,
They're desperate gamesters
That throw their whole stock at one trembling cast.
If in this mornings progresse we are maskt,
Time ne'r will lend a beam to light us forth
Of sorrows subtill labyrinth—should thy plot
Crampt with prevention halt behind thy hopes,
And I be marryed to this wretch—we may
Go then aside, and sacrifice our tears,
Our fruitlesse tears unto those Gods for whom
We have prepared our holy vowes—but never
Must meet in warm imbraces.
Van.
Do not doubt
The powerfull influence of our stars—should what
I have prepar'd to combate their design,
Be by some sullen spie betrayed,—I have
Fitted a friend ordain'd for action in
This Comick Scene, whose sword hath glister'd 'mongst
A throng of braver enemies then they;
By whose assistance, if they durst oppose,
He cut the cordage of that hand although
[Page 53] Before the Altar, that layes hold on thee.
The.
I would not have that silver feather'd dove,
On whose pure wings we first rais'd our affection,
Her yet immaculate pinnions dip in bloud.
Van.
Yet must we not
Tamely let Vultures prey upon our hearts.
I hear thy Father,
Ceugh within.
And must betake my self to canting.
Enter Carlo, servant leading him.
Car.
Oh—oh—oh!
Help me good Doctor:
Oh this tormenting Gout, my joints are rack'd.
Van.

Marke you Mounsieur—you must be—paesant till my me-di-cine can operate.

Car.
Oh I can hold no longer, set me down softly Geafery.
Van.
And lay up de leg Sh-free—
Here on de Cushoone—so—no, easie now.
Car.
Not much—not much—how now girl?
Hast thou sent to invite thy ghests?
The.

I have Sir, but doubt your want of health will much obstruct their mirth.

Car.
We'l have the fewer girl, 'twill save charges.
I do not like these costly feasts,
They but undo young couples—Oh my joints!
Doctor, we shall have your company.
Van.
Me be very sorry, me cannot be your servant,
But de number of de patients dat call upon me.
The.

We shall excuse you Sir, but could your time permit, you should be rang'd with the best of our friends.

Van.
Me humbly thank you Madam.
The.

We will be free, though my husband be not Courtly.

Car.

Not Courtly saist, marry the better wench, it puts me in hope I shall not live to see thee want, the swaggering Gallant goes out like a snuff, when the constant house­keeper gives the best light at last—Oh—oh—oh! my pain is intolerable—

I would not have him hearken to this paltry poetry, nor [Page 54] visit [...]arlotry playhouses. Let his imployments be to read the Statutes.—oh—'twill do him good—the knavery of a Lawyer, or the cunning of a Bankrout shall never undo him.

Van.

And tose as I have heard be diseases Epidemical—but be de law de speciall antidote.

Car.

'Tis our last refuge, but in these parts not thorough­ly prosecuted, I have now at the least fifty suits depending, and many of them I know to be poor rascals and not able to pay—oh now—now—And yet I can have no further re­compence then throwing them in Gaole—Oh my knee!—where they shall lie till they rot, if they pay not.

Enter a servant.
Ser.
Some Tradesmen Mris. Theocrine
Desire to speak with you.
Ex. The.
Car.
Do not buy thy garments too gaudy,
Gold is better in thy purse then on thy back.
Take example by thy aged father, Theocrine.
Oh now it tugs again—now—now!
Van.

Be of good comfort, it is but de acerbity of de humor—I will to my poison mixers, and prepare de richest ingredients.

Car.
I think an ointment of good Foot oyl were good,
It is cheap and easily got, I would not
Be at too much charges—lead me in
Geofry—oh!—farewell good Doctor—oh!
This double charges will undo me.
Van.
Thou ne'er wilt be so happy, wretched Miser,
To have that file polish thy cankerd soul.
The generous spirits punishment would be
To thee the effects of mercy. Is Theocrine,
My virtuous Theocrine, descended from
So vile a Father? Sure her Mother was
Some Angell clothed in flesh, that could not be
Corrupted with th' affinity of vice;
Else had the rudenesse of his nature planted
Some thornes within that Paradise, which now
The amorous Myrtles tender branches dresse
[Page 55] In such soft lovely robes, her passions are
Sharpn'd with anger, but like thornes plac't
To guard those roses Virgin modesty.
Nor can pale fear in her more refuge seek,
Then to improve the Lillies on her cheek.
Enter Theocrine.
The.
Come follow me Vanlore,
I have prepar'd thy habit—let's hasten.
Ex. om.
Enter Buff. Godg. Creon, Lewcip.
Cre.
Fie, fie!
Not ready yet, and to be a Bridegroom ere break of day?
Buf.
I cannot tie my bond-strings.
Lew.
Assist him Gudgeon—S-death! what doest gape for?
Gud.
Cham't thorowly awak'd yet, chad rather
Be at whome again, a keeping of Sheep,
There chad time to fetch out my full sleep,
Here cham tottered up all hours of the night.
Cre.

Why, thou doest not grumble Rascall, give me—come, p [...]x on thy gouty fingers, they are fitter to tie sacks—

Gud.
'Tis no matter for your frumps:

Chon't be thus abused long, chill get me home, and be a paultry Servingman no longer, to lick trenchers and live upon scraps.

Lew.

Why, how now slave, wert thou ever thus fine before?

Gud.

Yes in a pranked suit, 'tis much credit sure, e'n as much as the slit in our hawked Bullocks ear, or a mark in the side of a Sheep.

Buff.

Come Tutor, now come help me trusse my points, Chwas never thus troubled with harnessing my self before, and this be the fruit of marriage, I will marry no more yet in hast. If my Nunckel had been a man as other men be, he might ha marryed her his self, and ha saved me this labour, but no matter Gudgeon, we'l have about at trull-me-dems when the Parson hath done.

Enter Arratus.
Arr.
I to my grief have heard all this.
[Page 56] Unmaner'd slave! are these the fruits of all
My ill bestowed expenses? I see it lies not
I'th power of art to polish thee, I have
Ransack'd the City for the choiest wits,
They rackt invention to improve thy knowledge,
And yet thou still remainst a senslesse block.
—Pox on your ugly looks—you sleepish clown,
Pull up thy spirits—or by heaven—
Kicks him.
Gud
Master, give the testy old fool a clowt o'th car.
Arr.
What, art thou barking connsell to him?
Never were there such a couple of whelpes
Harl'd together, hell take you both for muddy slaves;
He rather leave my revenues in the wals of a Hospitall,
Or build Temples for the next Faction to pull down,
Then bestow it on such a puppy.
Cre.
'T will become your discretion, Sir, to smother
Your anger for the present, let this dayes
Businesse be past over ere you nourish the flame;
Then if you see no reformation, we shall not
Counsell to ought your judgment approves not of.
Lew.
Should you so untimely withdraw your love,
His disgrace would reflect on your reputation.
Arr.
You shall prevail for this once, come Sirrah
—See thy behaviour redeem thy credit
—Or thou art lost—
Gud.
—Lost! hey—'tis no matter and we were
Both lost, so we could find some of our old
Mates again—Ich can't abide these Courtnowles.
Ex. om.
Enter Zanna. leading Glori. Oroandes Eurione.
Zan.
Must we part here?
Glo.
Yes there are some ceremonies yet to come
—Ere you enter farther—
Oro.
—To morrow night
No Cherubin will guard the gates that lead
Unto our blisful thrones, these Ivory temples
Will dedicated both to Janus stand
Open in all the Civill wars of love.
Eur.
[Page 57]
How Oroandes—thou art wanton friend,
We yet are cloth'd in thoughts as pure and white
As new created Vestals, such discourse
Will not be harmony—when fetter'd in
Your bridall beds, we willing captives lie.
Oro.
Nor discord my Eurione—the modest blush
Corals the Virgin cheek no longer then
The trecherous light betrayes her to the view
Of the delighted Paranymphs.
The curtain'd bed presents unknown delights
Cloth'd in unpractic't nature, which improv'd
By loves assimilating virtue warmes
The unform'd embryo into full blown joy.
Eur.
What shall I call this, experimental or imaginary?
Oro.
Thy virtue best knows what—
Glo.
I see my Lord the active wars afford
Sometime to melt in passive thoughts, your steel
Soft love may polish to a looking glasse.
Eur.
Yes, and work the waving plume into a fan.
Glo.
The stubborn helmet into lawn, and strew
Bodkins and pins for rapiers round their beds.
Zan.
Why, Ladies—though we have been
Immur'd in steel, we are no Cyclopes yet,
Our joints are supple, though not weak as those
Whose knees are oftner to his Mistris bowed
Then to his God, who measures out his life
In wanton Galliards, and a fidlestick
Knows better how to handle then a sword,
No stand of pikes their bristled squadrons place
About our chins, nor are our lips hedg'd in
With quickset beards which thatch a Scythians face.
The Souldier when he'th stew'd his bowels in
The bloud, and sweat of enemies, is then
Most fit to kisse the balmy lips of peace;
His fresh and lusty appetite digests
What glutted Courtiers surfet on, and makes
They labour his refreshing exercise.
Glo.
We cannot doubt the softnesse your limbs,
[Page 57] As long as flints will break on feather beds.
Zan.
Thy active wit my Glorianda sports
In our rude fancies deserts.
Oro.
Let her friend, to morrow night she must
Impal'd within the narrow circle of
Thy armes bebarr'd that liberty, and then
Her world of Virgin thoughts will all conclude
In the possession of Elyzium,
Her Lillies and thy Lawrell both will be
Oretopt by Cupids Myrtles. The Phoenix
And warlike Eagle to a wildernesse
Untrod by fancies future steps may flie,
Whilst Venus D [...]ves are harbour'd in your brests.
Enter a Page.
Pag.
—My Lord—
Oro.
To me!—thy businesse.
Gives him a Letter.
From his Majesty.
It nought contains but what must be obeyed.
Pag.
I shall return that answer Sir.
Ex Pag.
Oro.
They must not see this, it may contain
News that may ruffle all their calm delights.
Eur.
What was this fellowes businesse Oroandes?
Oro.
The King hath sent for me. Go virgin friends,
This night lie shivering in your native ice,
The blooming spring approaches, which must change
Your snow to beds of roses—goodnight
—Blest Angels clasp their wings about your beds.
Ex. Oro.
Zan.
Come—Ile only wait you to your Chamber door,
And there—leave my best wishes to attend you further.
Ex severally.
Enter the Priest of Hymen, two Maids lea­ding Buffonie, Creon and Lewcippus leading Theocrine, Carlo born in a chair, Arratus with lights and atten­dants.
Car.

Carry me gently—oh that my pain should so vex me at this good time!

[Page 59] Being come to the middle of the Stage, the candles begin to wax out, flashes of light within the curtain, Vanlore in manner of a ghost appears, and suddenly draws back within the curtain.
Pri.

What prodigies are these?

(Arr.)

The light appears again.

Car.

It is some spectrum.

(Buf.)

I hope the Devill wo' not forbid the banes.

He appears again, at which the bearers let­ting fall Carlo's chair, [...]un hastily forth all but Carlo, who lies sprawling on the ground, to him enters one disguized in a dreadfull shape representing the Devill.
Dev.
—Prepare—prepare
I come to bear
Thy body where
No eye shall ere
Behold thee more, but those that share
With thee in everlasting care.
Car.
—Oh!—Oh!—I cannot rise,
Some good body save me from the spirit.
Dev.
Come—come away,
Hell hates delay,
I sent the day,
And dare not stay,
Lest light my ugly form betray,
Ghosts may not see what mortals may.
Theocrine above.
Be gone foul fiend, there are some saving drops
Of mercy yet hang over him and stops
Thy eager hast.
Dev.
Oh do not wast
Thy time i'th' air, heaven his eternall doom
Hath seal'd with Orphanes bloud, but will no room
For such dam'd souls admit,
Thou art call'd up to sit
[Page 60] Circl'd with glory 'mongst the blisful thrones,
But he cast down, down, where in hollow groans
His sins shall still complain.
The.
Tears will wash off their stain,
There needs no flames to purge them Live—live then
But only to repent on earth—which when
Perform'd, come rest with me.
Car.
Where art? oh let me see.
The.
That is not in my power to grant—to thin
Unbodied aire I am resolv'd, which in
This region only hovers
Till time and fate discovers
What will become of thee.
Dev
What but to go
Wi [...]h me where flouds of flaming sulphur flow,
Through dark and souty caves,
Where endlesse madnesse raves,
Where living flame in everlasting night
Still dying burns, but burning gives no light?
The busie Furies there
His restlesse bed prepare
Of molten gold spread o're with burning flakes,
Curtain'd with horror, and begirt with Snakes.
Then cease, and hast unto
Those white souls that have flew
Above my reach, which I have only power
To envy not to hurt.
The.
But can the hour
Not be a while prolong'd?
Dev.
Then destiny were wrong'd.
Shaking his chains he runs towards him, at which enter the Priest in his pontifi­call ornaments, as he begins to read, the Devill roaring runs forth.
Pri.

I thought thou durst not stand-to encounter with So brave an enemy as this.

A noise within, at which Carlo rising runs halting forth. Ex. Priest.
Enter Vanlore, Theocrine, and two Bandeets.
Van.
[Page 54]

They're gone—and too much frighted to re­turn in hast.

The.
Our plot hath equall to our wishes thriv'd.
Van.
I am indebted—brave Bandeets to you,
But will requite it in the like attempt
When ere occasion shall require my aid.
1 Ban.
We are so much your creatures Sir, that tis
The child of duty, when our gratitude
Offers all service to so loved a master.
Van.
Time will admit but small commerce of words,
My actions still shall speak me yours—
The.
Dear Vanlore let's be gone;
They will pursue as soon as they've collected
Their yet unrallied spirits.
Van.
Thou art the loadstone Theocrine, by whose
Attractive power the Compasse of my thoughts
Directed by thy wit, their Needle, steers
My almost Shipwrackt hopes, into a safe
And quiet harbor of content.
Ex. om.
Enter Oroandes alone reading a note.
Oro.
—The hour five—the place the plain beneath the
Hermits rock.
I have not mist in either circumstance,
Unlesse my haste anticipated time—it yet is not full five
—The morning hath not lost her virgin blush
Nor step, but mine soild the earths tinsel'd robe.
—How full of heaven this solitude appears,
This healthful comfort of the happy swain,
Who from his hard, but peacefull bed rous'd up
In's morning exercise saluted is
By a full quire of feather'd Choristers
Wedding their notes to the inamour'd air.
Here Nature in her unaffected dresse,
Plaited with vallies and imbost with hils,
Enchac't with silver streams, and fring'd with woods,
Sits lovely in her native russet, whilst
Lame Art to hide her known deformitie
With painting surfets each discerning eie.
[Page 62] Enter the King disguized.
Oro.
'Tis he, but strangely chang'd.
Kin.
Oroandes, you're now a loyal Subject.
Oro.
All my ambition ne'r flew higher Sir,
Then in that region of your thoughts to thrive.
Kin.
There it was grown to full maturity
Ere thou wrotest man, my Oroandes, but I must
Like wanton Nero either ruine all
The glorious structure of thy hopes, or live
Imprison'd in thy loyalty, thy life
Till now my strongest fortresse is become
The fatall engine of my ruine.
Oro.
—Heaven—what have I done to merit this?
Kin.
Nothing but been too virtuous, and by that
Center'd affections, which I must remove
Or shake thee into Chaos.
Oro.
This language blasts me, sure I have no sin
Ponderous enough to boy your vengeance up
Unto this dangerous height. Did I but think
One Viper lodg'd in my remotest thought,
I'd tear each fiber of my heart to find
The monster forth, and in my bloud imbalm'd
Throw it as far as lifes short span can reach.
But heaven my witnesse is, no flame of zeal
But hath been yours i'th second magnitude,
My vowes of kin to those I paid the gods,
My prayers, but love, and duty, fir'd into
A holy Calenture. Yet if all this
Like a small Stars kind influence govern'd by
A regall Planets crosse aspects, must drop
Its fading beams into that house of death
Your fierce destructive anger, let me shew
The latitude of my obedience, in
Dying at the command of him for whom
I only wish to live. Did all my friends
Look on the object through their tears, the ghost
Of my dead Mother, capable of grief
As of eternity, and yet clothed in
[Page] Humanities most frail affections, all
Those rivolets of sorrow should not wash
The sanguin stain of my resolves, so they
If executed could procure a calm
In this high tempest of your soul.
Kin.
Thy virtue fathomes not my depth of guilt,
Such a prevention of my anger would
Only exchange the active passion for
Sorrow as insupportable; those characters
Which must unfold the sables of my soul
Are in dark Hieroglyphicks hid, through which
Thy strength of judgment cannot pierce.
Oro.
You speak in misty wonders, Sir, such as lead
My apprehension into wilde Meanders.
Kin.
This will unriddle all our doubts—draw.
Oro.
Against my Soveraign! an act so wicked would
Re [...]ort the guilty steel into my breast.
Fear never yet marbled a cowards bloud
More then obedience mine, that breath hath lockt
In ice the panting channels of my heart,
No spirits dare from their cold center move.
Kin.
Will you deny—when I command?
Oro.
Pardon me royall Sir; had such a voice
Legitimated my attempts, I had
Not paus'd at the incounter of a danger
Horrid as all the wars oth' elements,
When ruffl'd into stormes could present;
I would bestride a cloud with lightning charg'd,
In's sull carreer affront a thunderboult,
Leap through the clefts of earthquakes, or attempt
To prop the ruins of a falling rock,
Yet count all this my happinesse, so I
Met death in the white robes of loyalty.
But to encounter such a ghastly foe
In the black shadow of Rebellion, shakes
The strongest pillars of my soul. You are my King,
My King—whose frowns should be
More dreadfull to me, then oraculous truths
[Page 64] When threatning sudden ruine; your sacred person
Is circl'd with divinity, which without reverence
To touch is sacriledge, to look on sin
Unlesse each glance is usher'd with a prayer.
Kings are but living / temples, wherein is
As in the Nations center, the chief seat
Of their protecting God, and shall I then
Pollute my hands in bloud, whose every drop
Would swell my Countreys tears into a floud?
Kin.
Are my attempts priz'd at so cheap a rate?
Wears not my sword a danger on its point
As well as thine?—draw—or I shall conclude
'Tis fear, not loyalty, that charmes thy hand.
Oro.
This stirs my bloud—were you a private man
That only had his better genius to
Protect him, though allied to me by all
The ties of Nature and of friendship, yet
Being thus far urged, our Swords long since should have
Made known whose Stars the brighter influence had.
Kin.
I have unfetter'd all those legall bondes—draw,
For thy denying now but sleights my power.
Oro.
Then—since there's no evasion,
Or. draws.
Witnesse ye Gods—my inocence is wrong'd.
—But gratious Sir—
Kneels.
Before I fall—or stand, lesse fortunate
To see you overthrow, oh let me know
What fate,—what cruell fate hath rob'd me of
The treasures of your love: I never yet
Sullied my soul with any thought that might
Deserve your hate, heaven is my faithful witnesse
I harbour none of you, but such as are
More full of zeal then those pure orizons,
Which martyr'd Saints mix with their dying groans.
Kin.
And must such goodnesse die!—know noble youth,
I am so far from calling it desert
In thee, that hath unsheathed my sword, that in
This midnight storm of fancy, I can shead
Some drops of pity too, pity to change
[Page 65] So true a subject for a treacherous ghest.
I come not rashly to attempt thy life,
But long have strugl'd with my hot desires,
Stood fiery trials of temptations, which
Have sublimated reason till it's grown
Too volatile to be contain'd within
My brain, that overheated Crucible.
I am diseas'd, and know no way to health
But through a deluge of thy bloud.
Oro.
There needs not then this storm to break down
The bayes that verge the crimson sea—this stroke
Shall open all the sluces of my bloud.
Kin.
Hold—or else thou rob'st me of my fixt resolves.
—There is a cause—
Commands me die in the attempt, or kill thee.
Gro.
Dear Sir, reveal it—
That ere I fall my penitential tears
May from that leprous crime expunge my soul.
Kin.
Alas brave youth, thy innocence needs not
The layer of a tear, thy candid thoughts
White as the robes of Angels are, but mine
The dresse of Devils, I that should protect
Am come to rob my best of subjects, to rob
Thee of thy dearest treasure; I know thy love
To fair Eurione inseparable
As goodnesse from a deity—yet must
Deprive thee of this darling of thy soul.
Oro.
With pardon, royall Sir, I cannot think
The Cyprian Princesse is so soon forgot,
With whom compar'd, my poor Eurione
Though bright to me, to more discerning eyes
Shine dim as the pale Moon when she lets fall
Through a dark grove her melancholy beams.
Kin.
Dorst thou affect her, yet dispraise a beauty
That in its orb contracts divinity?
This prophanation, what had else been sin
Will render meritorious—guard thy self.
They fight, Antellus wounded.
Oro.
[Page 66]
—Hah—thou bleedest.
Kin.
Oh but too slowly—if your wound admits
No other medicine, this will neer be balm.
Fight again, the King wounde.
Oro.
I doubt that thrust—
Kin.
It was a gentle one, and hath concluded
The businesse that we met for.
Now we are friends again; friends till death.
Fals.
Oro.
Oh do not faint,
Call up your spirits Sir, there yet is hopes of life.
Kin.
None—my vitall powers fail—they're heavy leads,
My eyes are bowing to eternall night,
My heart beats thick alarmes, yet can rally
No troops of scattered spirits—oh—oh!—I faint.
Oro.
And I grow wilde with horror, wilder then
A flame provoked by angry winds.
—What shall I do? or whither flie,
To leave behind me this pursuing guilt?
A noise within.
Kin.
—Oh—oh—be gone—be gone Oroandes.
Some company draws neer.
Mayst thou live long and happy in the imbraces
Of her, whom I unjustly strove to have.
My dying wishes waits upon your joyes.
Oro.
Angels attend your latest hour, I go
From hence, but to my everlasting wo.
Ex. Oroandes.
Enter four Bandeets.
1. Ban.
S-death! Ile not loose my share.
2. Ban.
Nor I, by heaven, although I search
For what's my own through my opposers bloud.
3. Ban.
Swounds! what d'ee quarrel for trifles?
Pox on you for covetous Rascals, take all mine.
4. Ban.
And mine too, so you will be content.
1. Ban.
Another prize, the spoil of this will reconcile us.
2. Ban.

He bleeds—Sh-ho—he stirs not, let's strip him.

3. Ban.
There's life in him—let's bear him off.

I have heard the captive Lady speak of a pretious Cordial [Page 67] she hath, if it recover him, his ransome may be better worth then these gaudy clothes—

4. Ban.
Here, lend your hands.
They lay the body on a Cloke, and ex.
Enter Buff. and Gudg.
Buf.

Oh Gudgeon we are undone, there is no recovering of her—what shall I do for another wife?

Gud.
Shall I let her cry Master?
Buff.

Ah, do good carefull servant, some of these honest people may chance to know of her, aloud good Gudgeon.

Mounts on a stool.
Gud.
—Oh yes—oh yes—oh yes
If any man—in City—Town—or Countrey,
Can tell any tidings of a strayed Lady.
Enter Arratus and Carlo.
Arr.
What's this? A hobby-horse dance?
Buff.
Oh no Sir—good Nunckel be quiet—
My man Gudgeon is only making known my losse.
Arr.
Is this thy grief, unpolisht clown?
Buff.
Why should I cry my self as long as I had a man?
Arr.
Thou art a scandall which will ever stick
Like a corroding cancer on my name
—Be gone—
Kicks him.
Back to thy rustick father, and there spend
Thy time 'mongst beasts lesse savage then thy self.
Buff.
Why then farewel, a turd for all such Nunckels.
Come Gudgeon we'l een go home to plow again.
Gud.

Ay, and whistle better tunes then ere we learn'd at Court.

Ex. Buff. and Gudg.
Enter a Messenger.
Car.
Oh save me brother,
Here comes the ghost.
Mess.

My Lord Arratus, you are suddenly expected at the Court.

Arr.
Why good friend?—what's the matter?
Mess.
The King and my Lord Oroandes are missing.
Car.

How! lost!—I hope my daughters messenger hath not transported them, was it a ghost carryed them away [Page 68] friend? speak man—I hear them still.

M [...]ss.
I come not to jest Sir, my Lord, are you ready?
Arr
I will follow thee—how am I perplext?
Come brother I will see you to your Chamber.
Car.
We will not go through the Gallery,
The place smels of Brimstone.
Ex. om.
Enter Zannazarro, Glorianda, and Eurione.
Zan
How sad a change is this! this morning was
Appointed for more joyfull enter views.
Glo.
When last nights slumbers rob'd our wakeful hopes
Of the delitious births of fancy, 'twas
With fairer promises, else our closed eyes
Had not been then m [...]de floudgates to these tears.
—Poor Eurione, I fain would comfort thee,
But my own griefs make me a stranger to
—That balmy language.
Zan.
Dear Sister—thy passions are too violent,
The messengers are not yet all return'd,
Not have we spoke with Arratus, some of which
—May happily bring news of them.
Glo.
They may Eurione, stifle thy passions untill then.
Enter Arratus.
Zan.
My Lord, you either come to share in grief
With us, or ease ours by some blest discovery.
—You've heard what royal mineral let flie this damp.
Arr.
Our Soveraign's lost.
Glo.
Too sad a truth.
Arr.
My largest intelligence lies within the wals of the
City, and there he hath not been yet heard of.
Is none with him my Lord?.—
Zan.
Yes, Oroandes—
Arrr.
I will go have the City searcht.
Eur.
That hath already proved a fruitlesse labour.
Vain as the glimmerings of our hope, they're gone
Beyond the reach of our industrious care,
Some cruell fate hath laid an ambush to
Betray the strength of all our joyes in them.
[Page] Enter a Messenger.
Zan.
Here comes our last of hopes, speak thy successe.
Mess.
Not good my Lord, we've traverst all the fields
That circle losty Erix, and yet seen
No chearfull beam of wisht intelligence,
We le [...]t no traveller unaskt, no Cottage lay
So unfrequented but we found it out,
And into strict examination took
Its rustick honour. Yet our journey was
Oft by the dangerous excursions of
Troops of Bandeets obstructed, safe from whom
Our speed not strength convey'd us, all we found
Worthy to fix an observation, was
A place beneath the Hermits rock, which stained
With store of bloud, did by that blush confesse
So late a guilt, no cloud had since 'twas shed
Dropt tears enough to wash it off, we searcht,
The purple grasse, but no vestigia found,
'Less this may do it, to inform us whence it came.
Shews a bloudy handkerchief which they finde to be the Kings.
Eur.
Oh my Prophettique fears!
Zan.
Our Sorrows are confirm'd.
Glo.
They are, in bloudy characters.
Arr.
I will go and secure the Cittadel, and cry treason▪
Ex. Arratus.
Zan.
—Sorrow outgrowes all my resolves.
Eur.
And my heart rents with this divided grief.
Zan.
This is an act of these untamed Bandeets,
These plagues of Sicily, but if the force
Of Syracuse can bay their power, we'l have
Their heads to build a temple ore his grave.
The end of the fourth Act.

Actus Quintus.

The King led in by a Bandeet, Heroina prepa­ring to dresse him.
Kin.
I've now got strength enough to render thanks
Unto the fair preserver of my life.
—Were is she Sir?
Her.
Here, ready to second my first weak indevours.
Kin.
They then were strengthen'd by some power above
The common reach of art, my weaknesse else
Had yet confin'd me to my sickly bed.
He sits whilst she dresses him.
Ban.
Let me assist you Lady—
Her.
Your change of colour argues faintnesse Sir,
This will recall your spirits—
Gives him a Cordial.
D'ee feel no alteration?
Kin.
Yes my spirits stir, as if they would shake off
The sluggish weight of weaknesse, I am grown
Active as if the vigorous strength of youth
And health were wedded in my heart, my bloud
Runs as it scorn'd to be confin'd within
The channels of my veins, yet is allayed
By th'even temper of my soul. Sure this
Rare Cordiall was some deities rich gift.
Her.
The fitter to be given to those they love,
For such you are, else my poor medicines had
Ne're thus effected miracles.
Ban.
Am I no longer useful here? if not,
My businesse cals me hence.
Kin.
Sir I should wrong your curtesie to draw
You from the front of time, if ought that may
Concern your self commands you hence.
Ban.
[Page 71]
Then I will take my leave.
Kin.
My thanks attend you Sir.
Ex. Band.
Her.
How much in every turning of the [...]ie
Doth he resemble my heroick love?
Aside.
Kin.
You're sad sweet Lady.
Her.
I have a cause, and such a one that did
You know, your goodnesse would commiserate
My wretched fortune.
Kin.
Reveal it Lady, I perhaps may be
Inabled then to give your Cordials back
In some such curtesie as may deserve
To be a thankfull handmaid unto yours.
Her.
I was resolv'd to weep away my time
In private sorrow, but discovery can
Not aggravate my woe, besides I may
Venture to lodge a secret, where I have found
Such temperate virtues the souls portals bar,
Ile only with this question usher in
My own discovery, [...]s Sicily your place
Of birth or not?
Kin.
It is, and breeding both.
Her.
Ile not demand what were the Parentage
Where I find virtues plant Nobility,
Yet would be loath to a Plebeian breast
To trust what I must now divulge.
Kin.
You may be confident, I am a Gentleman
As well by birth as education Lady.
Her.
I do presume it Sir, and therefore wish,
Of all I now remain amongst to be
Known unto you alone—
You never had relation to the Court?
Kin.
There was my breeding.
Her.
Neer the person of the King?
Kin.
One of his Bed-chamber, and 'tis no boast
To say as well belov'd of him as any,
There being in the opinion of the Court
A neer resemblance of our looks.
Her.
Then sure my name is not a stranger to you,
[Page] [...] [Page 71] [...]
[Page 72] Have you not heard of the Cyprian Princesse?
Kin.
The beauteous Heroina.
Her.
The wretched Heroina, such I'm sure
Is my condition in my present state.
Kin
Pardon this child of ignorance, my rude
Kneels.
And unbecoming boldnesse.
Her.
Rise Sir, we are companions yet,
And hope we shall be, till your royall Master
Possesse, what was long since intended his;
By what disaster I was cast upon
This dreadfull precipice of danger, as
We are withdrawing Ile relate, but not
To tempt a danger stay you longer here.
Kin.
Your care can have no satisfaction but
A loyall servants prayers.
Ex. om.
Enter Oroandes and a Surgeon.
Gro.
Not find the body sayst?—
Sur.
No Sir—yet by the large effusion of his bloud
Had a too sad assurance of the place,
Some Mountaineers have certainly c [...]nveyed
His body thence to burial; those bloudy characters
Are arguments of no lesse ill then death.
Oro.
—Then I am lost eternally—lost to all
That bears a shew of goodnesse, heaven, and earth
Will both strive to forget they ever knew
A soul desorm'd with wickednesse like mine.
—My feverish sins dry up the dews of mercy
In their descent, and blast all vertue that
Approaches neer me, I shall never find
A Saint in heaven, or Fiend on earth but will,
As a dire prodigy, created to
Scatter infection through the world, forsake
My ha [...]ed company, as fit to mix
With none but the society of Devils.
Sur.
Sir I wish I in ought [...]lie could serve you.
Oro.
I thank thee friend—
Ex Surgeon.
—Heaven—
What an unweildy monster am I grown
[Page 73] Since by this act swel'd to a regicide—
—Oh my accursed stars that only lent
Your influence to light me to damnation,
Not all my penitential tears will ere
Wash off the spots from my stain'd soul, this gangren
Is cur'd by no Lixivium but of bloud.
My heart is lodg'd within a bed of Snakes
Such as old fancies arm'd the Furies with.
Conscience waits on me like the frighting shades
Of ghosts when gastly messengers of death.
My thoughts are but the inforc't retreats
Of tortut'd reason to a troubled fancy.
—Hah!—am I surprized—
Enter Surgeon.
Sur.
Sir not by me, I only finding that
You were much troubled at this accident,
Am come to lend you my assistance in
Concealing of your person, untill by
The mediation of your friends you may
Open these harsh obstructions of your fate.
Oro.
This is a curtesie I never merited
Either from heaven, or thee their messenger.
My hopes are yet not wholly ruin'd, I will
Along with thee, and in some dark disguise
Expect the clouded raies of better things.
Ex. Sur. and Oroandes.
Enter Vanlore, Theocrine, and Bandeets.
Van.
Now Theocrine I boldly may ingage
My promise for thy safety, we are past
All habitable places—
The.
Were not thy company my best security,
This deserts wilde inhabitants would fright
Me more then all my fathers Scouts, to whom
Without a blush my innocence would dare
Disrobe my actions, now I fear no fate
So sad as the preventing my desires.
Van.
Thou art the joy and comfort of my life;
[...] [...]
[Page 74] More chearfull then the suns society
To winter starved Scythians;—Come my Love
This bed of Violets courts us to repose.
Now,—now within the circle of my armes
I grasp a gem, by me more prized then all
The worlds five zones imbraces, now we live
I' [...]h' upper sphere of fancy, and spin out
The evenest threeds of all our mortall web.
These are the sugr'd minutes of our lives,
The balmy drops that cure the minds sad wounds.
Since man lost Paradise, he knew no place
To emblem heaven, but in a womans face.
The.
Why thou art wanton friend, this is discourse
For Love that hath not out-grown infancy,
Ours now is too mature—
Van.
Nor ever will, when we are both grown old,
Thy polisht ivory furrowed o'er with age
In silver robes on beauties ruines plac't
Our mutuall wonder still shall last, but I
Must binde up all the gaudy flowers of love
In threeds of admiration, no epithites
Such fragrant virtues separated from
The generall name of good, can ere again
Pick out and bind them in due prayses up.
The.
I can be well content to hear thee talk
On any argument, but a lesse pleasing
Thou couldst not well have taken.
Enter a Bandeet.
Ban.
S-death! Captain, what d'ee mean?
This is no place of safety, the wayes are all beset
With troops of horse, our Scouts beat in from all parts
Wounded and bloudy, if we all betake not our selves
To our armes we are lost in an instant.
The.
Oh prithy Vanlore hasten hence.
Van.
I only fear thy safety.
Ex. om.
Enter two Bandeets wounded.
1. Ban.
S death! we must be gone.
2. Ban.
Tis not our use to run.
1. Ban.
Pox on't, the oddes is unreasonable.
2. Ban.
[Page 75]

Swounds, I think they have horst all the Carters in the Countrey, the thick skin'd rogues my Rapier could hardly pierce them.

2. Ban.

But theirs pierc't us, I have a wound here yawnes like a Dragon—let's hasten to a Surgeon.

Enter a Bandeet bleeding and fals.
3. Ban.
Hell perish all the slaves,
I'm kill'd by a rustick dog.
And what torments me most, fall unreveng'd.
1. Ban.

Poor Brother we would help thee, but want it our selves.

3. Ban.
Yet bear me from the villains, and if your time
Permits, bury me like a Souldier, I was born
Of noble parentage, but drove by want
To these unlawfull courses, and have this,
This for my punishment—
One hollowes within.
2. Ban.
Hark—Swounds, we shall be surpriz'd
Here right ere long—
They bear off him that fell, and ex. om.
Enter Heroina alone.
Her.
What desperate wretches do I live amongst?
Terror allarums them from every side,
Their Scouts bring no intelligence but death
Approaching at their backs, and yet
They bathe in riot, and with bloudy oathes
Stab heaven betwixt each word they speak, their prayers
Are only for damnation, though they breath
Their souls forth with that fearful wish.
Enter a Bandeet drunk.
1. Ban.
—Dam me—A short life and a merry.
Swounds if we die—we die—let's be
Merry whilst we live—
Her.
I tremble at this Villains sight.
Offers to go forth.
1. Ban.
Whether now Doxie—S-death! you
Whore come hither—Pox on your squeamish face,
Lie down—or Ile cut thy throat.
Her.
You will not offer to abuse me thus.
1. Ban.
Dam me, Ile do'c, and thou wert my sister,
[Page 55] Thy puling shall not save thee.
Her.
Upon my knees I beg thee not to touch me.
1. Ban.
Thou wilt be heard better lying upon thy back.
Her.
Thou knowest not whom thou injurest;
—I am a Princesse.
1. Ban.
The better, then the boy I beget will be noble
By the Mothers side—Swounds, will you not bend?
Her.
Is none more civill near?
Enter the King.
Kin.
What villany is this,—
Forbear unhallowed slave,
Snatches forth the Ban­deets sword.
This weapon shall revenge her if thou durst
Abuse her with the least uncivil touch.
Enter two Bandeets.
1. Ban.
Swounds, help me here,
This Rascall hath got my sword.
2. Ban.
Dares the thawed snake to sting?
Deliver him his sword—
Kin.
I will, so you will promise he shall use
It not to force resistlesse womens honour,
As late he did attempt this noble Virgins,
And if by me not timely rescued had
Made it the prize of his oremastering strength.
3. Ban.
Must you Sir make conditions?
They both draw and lay at him.
Whilst they are fighting, enter Vanlore and Theocrine.
Van.
What is the cause of this?
Sheath your Swords, that man
That dares proffer another blow,
Forfeits his life for tribute to my sword.
Her.
This was a timely rescue, and hath by
The fair redemption of my honour, more
Then satisfied all those arrears, your life
D'd stand ingag'd in to my usefull art.
Kin.
The brightest stars that rule my fate did light
Me to the blest imployment, but had all
Set ere their influence had attain'd its end,
[Page] Had not this Gentlemans assistance lent
New vigour to their fading beams.
Her.
I must confesse a debt of thanks to him,
Which if irregular opinion prove
No enemy to his own safety, shall
Be suddenly discharg'd—You may perceive Sir
How black a storm waits on the lives of all
Your wilde associates, wherefore if you have
An overswaying power amongst them, chuse
The now presented opportunity
To free you from all future fears, which thus
Ile light you to, draw up your company,
And let those persecutors of my honour be
My convoy to the Court, you'l find a Prince
To be intreated, when your advocate
Bears Heroinaes name.
Vanlore kneels.
Van.
Pardon me best of women, and impute
My rudenesse, to my ignorance,
If any service can extenuate
Crimes of such monstrous growth, our blouds shall pay
The forfeit of our disobedience, in
The not performing it.
Her.
Your hopes of safety prompts me to believe.
—Come Sir—you shall attend us to the Court.
Kin.
I am your vassal Madam, proud to have
Such a command to usher my desires.
Ex. om.
Enter Oroandes alone in the habit of a Forrester.
Oro.
—Not yet—not yet at quiet—no disguise
Is dark enough to curtain o'er my guilt,
Pale as the ghastly looks of men condemn'd
It sits upon my Conscience. I see there is
No place affords that soul a safe retreat
That is pursued by a sharp-sented sin.
The prosperous murtherer that hath clothed his guilt
In royall Ermins, all those furs of state
Cannot preserve from trembling, he looks on
[Page 56] Dejected wretches, as assasinates,
And each petition for a ponyard fears.
—Yet these are more secure then I, they may
Pretend to merit in their wickednesse,
And call their crimes the cure of sickly states;
But I am left no refuge, lesse to know
The depth of horror can no further go.
—Alas poor virtue, all thy white wing'd zeal
Is wrought into a bed of sables, since
Leaving thy heavenly dictates I betrayed
My self unto these sooty gards of hell,
Whose black inhabitants already call
Me one of their society;—my eyes
Are grown more killing then the Basilisks,
And each vein fill'd with poison, since these hands,
These cursed hands were stained with royal bloud.
—Hah—all this is true—
But do I want more desperation yet?
Are there not fiends enough now waiting on me
To guide my trembling hand untill it reach
The center of my life?—
Draws a sword from be­hind the curtain.
This fatall weapon slew my Prince
—This was his bloud that stains it,—
The bloud that warm'd those browes a crown imbrac't
—Let forth by me t'embalm the earth, and in
Warm vapors spend the pretious breath of life,
Which mounting upwards sent persumes to heaven;—
—But now thou must be dipt in that which will
Leave a perpetual rust upon thy steel
More fretting then a canker.—blast all that near it grows,
And as it cools infect the ambient air
With blasts more deadly then the steams of hell—
—How it pants to come forth!—
Sets the Sword to his breast.
—Hah!—something stayes my hand
My better Angel sure hath left me quite
—How e'er I will not do it,
Although that every blast of air I draw
[Page 57] Be more tormenting then the gasps of death.—
—No, I will live—live till disvellop'd guilt
Makes me a publick spectacle of hate—and then
Fall with my sins about me, when each tongue
Adds to their ponderous weight a full mouthed curse.
—The subtill spirits, that like lightning flie
Thorow my bloud, hath yet not suffered me
To parle with sleep since th' unhappy act,
—I find them something calm'd, and will attempt
To reconcile them in this gentle shade.
Lies down, having lain still a while enter two Bandeets.
1. Ban.
We have lost our company.
2. Ban.
No matter, we shall finde the way to Court,
I fear nothing but how we shall do to live honest.
1. Ban.

The place requires it not, at most 'twill be Enough to seem so.

2. Ban.
Though we never us'd it much, I doubt not
But Hypocrisie is an art easily learn'd.
1. Ban.
Come let's hasten, I would willingly see thee
Between the King and the captive Princesse.
2. Ban.
Her captivity is like to be our redemption.
1. Bad.
If it prove not so, we must dance off the
Stage in a halter—What do they call her name?
2.
Heroina—daughter to the Cyprian king,
Betroth'd to ours a long time since, when he
Was abroad in his travels.
1. Ban.
'Twill be a joyful meeting unto them.
2. Ban.
Had we not had ill luck, a Bandeet had been his
Taster.-.-
They discover Oroandes.
How now, what have we here
—So ho—what art?—
1. Ban.
Tush, some drunk Forrester, let him alone.
Ex. Bandeets. Oroandes rises.
Oro.
Heroina!—A Princesse!
—And carying to the Court by Bandeets!
It is the unhappy Lady that was betroth'd
[Page 80] [...] [Page 81] [...]
[Page 58] Unto my murthe [...]'d Soveraign—lighted on
In their excursions by these rennegadoes.
—Poor Lady—I have spoil'd her entertainment there;
—But I will follow them, and with my bloud
Crimson the sables that must cloud the day.
Ex. Oroan.
Enter Arratus, servants setting forth two thrones, the one richly adorned, the other covered in mourning, before the black throne a table, on which a Crown is laid on a mourniug cushion, before the other throne is plac't the picture of the King.
Arr.
Come—come—see all things in order
The Princesse is at hand—fie—fie,
This is an unexpected trouble—
—A way you grosse witted rascall—doest not see
We strive to paint our sorrow in checquer'd work,
But this 'tis when women sit at the helm of state,
They square all Court entertainments to the fashion
Of the last Romance they heard.
Shout and acclamations within.
Hark, they are enter'd the
Palace, I hear the Cannon—
Go off from the Forts—be gone—and make way.
Loud musick, the Lord high Marshall, his white rod wreathed in black ribbon, next him, the King and Vanlore leading Heroina, her train born up by The­ocrine.
At the other door (whilst a soft and melan­cholly musick playes within) Zannazarro, Glorianda, and Eurione all in mour­ning; Zannazarro kneels, and having kist Heroina's hand is raised by her, she saluting the other Ladies.
Zan.
The best of welcomes this sad place affords
Waits on your Graces entertainment.
Glo.
And we [...] to do what service lies within
The verge of our indevours—
Her.
I thank you both sweet Ladies, and must first
[Page 81] Imploy your service in declaring what▪
These silent emblems of a sorrow mean.
I have not seen grief in the like disguise,
The lawrell and the sunerall Cypress here
Have wreathed their ill met branches, and contends
Whose leaves shall Crown the Syracusian queen.
Zan.
Wil't please you ascend your throne, and there
Lend your attention to the saddest story
That ere did yet Siciliaes Annals blot?
She ascends the throne.
Zannazarro drawes the curtain from before it, and discovers the picture of the King.
Zan.
Behold, great Princesse,
All but the memory of his living fame
Of Syracusiaes Monarch.
She sounds and fals from the throne.
Glo.
Oh help—help the Princesse.
Eur.
Madam—dear Madam.
Her.
Oh—oh—God!—
Arr.
Bear her forth, and give her more air.
Her.
Hold—I am better here—if any thing
Revive my spirits, 'twill be this that puts
Me in the mind of my deceased Lord.
—Unhappy woman, first to know—then love,
Ingage thy faith, yet never to injoy!
Enter Oroandes in his own habit.
Her.
Why stand you thus amazed [...]
Zan.
Pardon us Maclam—had the united dust
Of some dead friend, whose memor [...] [...]ear forgot,
Visited earth in his known shape again,
Our wonder could not have arrived unto
A higher pitch—
Let me imbrace thee friend▪
Eur.
—My dearest Or [...]—
Oro.
Stand off—yet farther off;
You know not what you touch,
You safer far may grapple with a flame,
[Page 82] Or in his midnights walk affront a fiend
Arm'd with full vials of destructive wrath.
The graves inhabitants, when folded in
Corruption, are not more defil'd then I.
Zan.
What tends this language to?
Oro.
Destruction— Zannazarro.
Eur.
How hast thou lost thy temper Oroandes?
P [...]ithee look on me friend, or am I grown
A stranger to thy knowledge?—
Oro.
Leave me Eurione, thou art of kin
Unto those hallowed Angels that did once
Attend my actions, and must now with them
A stranger to thy Oroandes grow.
Eur.
Neglected thus!—Alas—where shall I weep?
Her.
You are to me a stranger Sir, yet in
Your look I something read that may concern
Your absent Prince, collect those scattered spirits
Now roaving in confusion, and relate it.
Oro.
I would, but that it hath a sound so full
Of trembling horror, 'twill unnerve your joints,
—Yet I must do't, no other way can lead
My soul from out this wildernesse of flesh
—He's murther'd.
Zan.
—By whom?—
Oro.
This cursed hand; d'ee start?
I thought 'twould strike the bloud out of your cheeks,
And make you paler then the act made me.
'Twas I—'twas I, that when your blooming hopes
Chear'd with the sun of Majesty, were grown
Big with expected favours, did eclipse
The glorious light in a black cloud of death.
I cut the heartstrings of the Land, and fed
The groaning earth with bloud, whose purple had
Been by an ancient stock of ancestors
Died into royalty.
Van.
Ingratefull slave, why are our swords so slow
—To execute the villain?
Eur.
Oh hold, believe him not—he raves,
[Page 83] These are the births of a distemper'd brain.
Oro.
Thou hast but injured me Eurione
In staining their just fury—farewel,
Rest in E [...]izium whilst I roar in hell.
Eurione fals.
Zan.

—Oh brother, if this be true, thou hast undone us all.

Oro.
True—do not think
'Tis any natural distemper that
Spreads this malignant vapour through my veins,
Which nought but th' poison of my guilt corrupts.
—No I have done it brother,
And you are all bound as you love your Prince
To see't reveng'd with torments, here's a note
Will when I'm dead direct you where to find him.
And now I've done my businesse on the earth,
Ile give the first stroak to revenge, and here
Sets the Sword to his breast.
Open a passage for your Swords to enter.
As he is offering to stab himself the King stayes his hand.
Oro.
What bold hand is that?
Kin.
One that here may claim a priviledge,
Throwes off his disguize.
—Rise thou mirror of true loyalty,
—Ne'r higher in our favour.
They all kneel.
All.
Our gratious Soveraign!—
—Welcome—oh welcome royall Sir!
Kin.
You are all my much loved Subjects, such in whom
Never was king more blest—Madam
Your presence crowns our blessings—now I stand
Exalted in the zenith of my fate.
Who would not passe a stormy night, to be
Thus courted by a lovely glorious day?
—You all are sharers in my heart,
—But thou my Love—
To Heroina.
The great commandresse of that royall fort.
—Off with these night p [...]c't curtains, no such vail
Shall cloud the perfect beauty of our joyes.
Puls off the black from the throne.
[Page 82] [...] [Page 83] [...]
Ascend this throne, a place too humble for
Virtues so near allied to heaven as thine.
Now you expect the story of my fate
In Syracus [...]s seeming Widowhood,
But the full sea of pleasure cannot yet
Contract its swelling waves, tumultuous joyes
Cannot be reconcil'd into discourse,
Till Hymens topour to possession lights
Our just desires, that eldest childe of hope.
—I only have a promise to perform
Before you all unto this Gentleman,
And then will hasten to discharge the Arrears
[...]and ingag'd in to your loyalty.
—Are the Prisoners ready?
Van.
They wait at the door Sir.
Kin.
Go fetch them in, thou must my dear
Ent. 2 Band [...]e [...]s leading Carlo.
Meet my first known imbraces, in the seat
Of long neglected Justice, set forth the Prisoners.
—My Lord—read the Indictment—
Reads.

Vincentio Carlo, you are here accused of a murther committed on a Syracusian Gentleman, his name Vanl [...]re, the act done by two Souldiers whom you hired in the Camp at the siege of Ardenna: Guilty or not guilty?

Car.

Not guilty and please your good Grace, alas I never knew the man, I!—therefore I beseech your Majesty to be good to me, I am a poor ignorant man, and full of grief for the losse of my only daughter—

Kin.
That will be proved an act of your own,—Read on.
Reads.

My Lord Arratus, you are here accused to be of confederacy with Signior Carlo in the murther of his daugh­ter Theocrine.

Arr.
Who I!—why I!—who dares?
Kin.
Bandeets lay hold of him, where are the witnesses?
Enter two officers leading Creon and Lewcippus going lame and bound about the head.
Cre.
Oh—oh—so weak, I am hardly able to go to the Bar.
Lew.
I doubt we shall find it a harder march
[Page 85] To the Gallowes, but this I may thank thy villainy for.
Cre.
Thou liest Rascal, thou promptedst me to all.
Kin.
Read their accusations.
Reads.

Creon and Lewcippus, you are hear accused for mur­thering Vanlore, at the siege of Ardenna, and being accessary to the death of Theocrine, daughter to Vincentio Carlo; Guilty or not guilty?

Cre.

Not guilty—my Lord, I confesse I was with this villain Lewcippus hir'd to do it, by this wretched Carlo, but had no hand in the murther, it was Lewcippus committed it.

Lew.
I hope your Majesty will not believe him,
For the Varlet is composed of falsehood,
In the death of Vanlore he was as far forth
As my self, but for the losse of Theocrine
We neither of us had any hand in it,
It was a plot contrived by Carlo, and my Lord
Arratus, but for what ends we know not.
Arr.
I hope my good service to your Majesty
Hath merited better then to have my reputation
To be call'd in question by a common Rogue.
I protest I will sue the Rascall for a slander,
—I will slave—by mine honour I will.
Kin.
Swear not my Lord, by what you have abus'd;
Honour (that venerable title) was
Slain when to'th law you forfeited your life,
Bleeding to death at those unworthy wounds
Which these low actions to high titles gave.
—Stand all forth, and attend your doom.
Car.
Be merciful—oh good my Liege, be merciful.
Arr.
Swounds! I see I shall be cheated of my head.
Kin.
Your actions merit none, yet since it is
The best companion of a Judge, we'l in
Her virgin zone the sword of Justice wear.
—Discover your selves—
Puls off the veil from Theo­crine, at which Van­lore discovers himself.
Here are the witnesses, brought to affirm our accusation.
Car.
Oh let me go—they are Spirits,
[Page 86] Ghosts—Hobgoblins—I will not stay,
This is some inchanted place.
1. Ban.
Nay Sir, you are too fast to stir.
Arr.
S-death! what jugling's this?
Vanlore and Theocrine kneel to Carlo.
Van
Sir recollect your spirits—and bestow
A blessing on us, both your children now.
Car.

Nay it is no point of my Religion to pray for the dead.

The.
Sir we still live, and live to want your prayers.
Car.
I want my money more that these two Rogues have
Cousened me of, I hope your charity will
Make them restore it again, I am
An old man and like to come to want,
And every one hales what he can catch from me.
Kin.
Cursed Miser, the Law will free thee from the fear of want;
For though thy damn'd intentions did not wade
So far as action into guilt—thy life
Is forfeited for the intended sin.
Vanlore and Theo. kneels.
The.
If we were ever gracious in your eyes,
Let us beg pardon for him.
Kin.
Their lives are yours, yet justice must not be
Robb'd of all interest in them, for your sakes
We'll miti gate their punishments. All Carloes wealth,
That Devill which did tempt him to this sin,
Being by the Law made forfeit unto us,
We with his daughter, the fair Theocrine,
Wholly bestow on Vanlore.
Car.
Oh I am undone—I am undone,
I had better been hang'd out of the way
Then to have liv'd to have seen my goods
Thus gave away before my face.
—Oh that ever I was born!
Kin.
For Arratus—because he valued wealth
More then his honour, he shall ever lose
Those glorious titles, now grown burthensome
Unto his age, which may betake it self
[Page 87] To needfull rest, whilst all his places of
High trust are by the worthier Vanlore managed.
On whom, as but a just reward unto
His merits, we bestow them.
Van.

Your Majesty will by your goodnesse teach Me future gratitude—

Arr.
And me perhaps repentance when too late.
Kin.
For these two villains, the base instruments
Unto your guilt, since we desire to have
No bloud defile this dayes solemnity,
Let them by publick Edict be for ever
Excluded our Dominions. And now we've sheath'd
The sword of Justice, let me open wide
The armes of Friendship, unto you that have
Been masqu'd in this Meander of our fate.
My debts are great to all, but must remain
In full arrear, untill my offerings paid
To sacred Hymen, gives me liberty;
Whose Altars now we'l all prepare to warm
With the purest flame that ere Sicilia saw.
Come Heroina, let's conduct them to
The Temple, where united hands shall prove
Our cares are conquer'd by Victorious Love.
THE END.
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