The eunuch. A tragedy: as it hath been acted with great applause. / Written by William Hemmings, Oxon..

Author: Hemings, William, b. 1602?1687

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THE EUNUCH. A TRAGEDY: As it hath been Acted with Great Applause.

Written By William Hemmings, Oxon.

Licensed, March 26. 1687. Roger L' Estrange.

LONDON, Printed by J. B. and are to be sold by Randal Taylor near Stationers-Hall, 1687.

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Dramatis Personae.

The Eunuch.
The Old King.
Clotaire, The Young King.
Clovis, His Brother.
Fredegonde, The Queen.
Old Brisac.
Charles Brisac, His Son.
Aphelia, His Daughter.
Landrey, The Queens Favourite.
Dumaine, Brother to the Eunuch.
Lamot, His Friend.
Burbon, Officers and Soldiers.
Lanoue, Officers and Soldiers.
Martile, Officers and Soldiers.
Isabel, Ladies Attending the Queen.
Julia, Ladies Attending the Queen.
Page.
Lackey.
Two Watchmen.
A Messenger.

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ACT I.

SCENE I.

Enter Dumaine and Lamot, like two Poor Souldiers.

Dumaine.

WE are not safe Lamot, this Bawdy Peace

Begets a War within me, our Swords worn

For Ornament not use, the Drum, and Trumpet

Sing Drunken Carrols, and the Cannon speaks

Health, not Confusion; Helmets turned to Cups;

Our bruised Arms administer discourse

For Tables, and for Tav [...]rns, where the Souldier

Oft finds a pity, not relief: Pl [...] tell thee

We are walking Images, the sign of men,

And bear about us nothing but the form

Of man, that's manly.

Lamot.

We are c [...]le indeed.

Dum.

Yes my Lamot, and [...]he ungratefull Time

As coldly doth reward ut, all our Actions,

Attempts of Valour look'd into with Eyes

Philmed with Contempt, when ye Gods, ye know,

It is our Gifts they see yet: Oh I am Mad!

The very Bread that lends them Life to scorn us,

Our Bloods have paid for, yet demand a bit,

Or ask of this Old-Sattin-Belly'd-Sir,

Or Madam-Toothless, with her Velvet Sconce,

And you shall hear their rotten Lungs pronounce

The Whip, and Whipstock.

Lamot.

Patience, Great Dumaine.

Dum. Lamot,

Thou know'st, I dare be Patient.

With what an equal Temper did I breath,

Under the Frozen Climate of the North,

Where in mine Arms, the Sheets of War, I Slept;

My Bed being feathered with the down of Heaven,

I have lain down a Man, and rise a Snow-Ball;

Yet these have been my Pastimes, which I have born

as willingly, as I receiv'd them Nobly.

The Queens black Envy which doth still remain,

And peeps through every Limb she bears about her,

Fated to ruine us, does not swell my Gall;

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No, nor this willing Beggery I wear

To cloud me from her Malice; by the Gods,

This Bastard-getting-Peace unspirits me,

A greater corrasive to my Active Soul,

Then all past-ills whatever.

Lamot.

Cool your Rage,

And be as Wise as Valiant, this is not time

To vent your Passions like a Woman;

A Souldiers Tongue moves only in his Sword.

Dum.

You are an expert Tutor and I thank you;

Our Wrongs would add a Spirit to the Dead,

And make them fight our quarrels. Who comes here?

A Florish, Enter Landrey, 2 or 3 Lords, 2 or 3 Petitioners, who by his followers are slighted off; they as grived return back again, whilst he passes on in State.

The Minion to our Queen! Oh what a train

The Painted Peacock bears! Death! were I Jove

But only for this Gyant.

Lamot.

Still intemperate.

Dum.

These are the fruits of Peace, upstarts, & slatteries;

Tell me Lamot, can this same Marchant-Man,

Think or Commit a Sin, tho' never so Horrid

But it is candid o're, and from his Vice,

Excessive praise, and plaudites arise.

Were I the King! but he is willfull Blind;

And by the Horns she rocks him fast asleep,

Before the Wanton and hot-Blooded Queen

Should have the License, but to be suspected

With such a Knight of Gingerbred as this is,

A Guilded Flesh-fly; I would lock Her up,

Yea chain the Evil Angel in a Box,

And House her like a Silk-Worm.

Lamot.

Pardon Sir,

The good Old King's unable.

Dum.

Worse and Worse,

And therefore must admit an upstart-Page,

Now raised to Honour by his Lawless Lust:

Mayor of the Palace, and the Duke of France;

The next step is the Crown; Oh Peasant State,

When Owls are aired in the Cedars top,

And Daws compare with Eagles.

Lamot.

Like to like.

What was our Fredegonde but Golsanda's Maid?

A Princess, (Oh my Soul!) so Heaven'd above her,

That Fredegonde appears a Hell of darkness;

Yet does our Childrick, our old doting King,

Set up a Dishclout against a Diadem.

Dum.

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'Twere good the King would Execute them both.

Lamot.

Execute them! For his best Blood he dares not;

The no-Chast-Queen is great in Faction,

Followed and Sainted by the Multitude,

Whose judgments she has linked unto her purse,

And rather bought a Love then found it:

She has a working Spirit, an active Brain,

Apt to conceive, and wary in her wills;

Besides, her Sons. (the Pillars of State)

Supports her like an Atlas, where the sits;

And like the Heavens commands our faces beneath her.

She is the greater Light, the King a Star,

Which only glares but through her influence.

A Florish.

Dum

Heark the Thunder of the War; now! out of Tune,

This Peace corrupting all things makes them speak.

What means this most Adulterate noise?

Lamot.

Receiv't.

This is a Night of Jubile, and the King

Solemnly Feasts for his Wars happy success:

Besides his Sons and he are knit again;

We shall have Masques and Revellings to Night.

Dum.

Now the Great Gods confound this pick-thank noise;

The Drum and Trumpets are turn'd flatteries,

And Mars himself a Bawd to grace their Ryots.

Enter the Eunuch with two fair Suits, Hats, Feathers, Rapiers, and all things answerable, flings them a Letter, and to each a purse of Gold; and after a little pause departs.

What Vision's this? 'Tis Gold both right & fair;

Sure I dream not.

Lamot.

I cannot tell, but he

That takes this from me shall full soon perceive

I do not sleep nor slumber: 'Twas the Eunuch.

Dum.

That needs no deciding.

Lamot.

What Papers that?

If it be Chorus unto this dumb shew,

Read it Dumaine.

Dum.

Dasterd Hand, why shak'st thou?

Takes up the Letter & seems to tremble.

The Queen!

Lamot.

Blasted Dumaine! Give me the Scrowl;

Were she a Fury, nay the Queen of Hell,

Tho' every word did Thunder I would read it.

He Reads.

As ye are Souldiers truly Valiant, we Honour ye; as poor, we pity ye, and have sent ye that which will render ye as compleat Courtiers, as undaunted Souldiers: Damaine, Lamot, let is suffice we know ye, for our Eye is Every where, whilst we remember your Works, we shall study to forget your Parents Injuries: Fear nothing, for your hitherto concealment [Page 4]we will get your Pardons, and whilst we breath, breath your kind Mistriss; if you dare trust us, and build upon our Fortunes, appear at Court to Night so adorned as shall become your Honours and our Friends.

Fredegonde.

Dum.

How do you rellish this? What now Lamot?

Lamot.

We'le take the Gracious prosser of the Queen,

She's Princely vow'd our Friend; besides what Ill

Can we expect from her, who might have sent

Her Murdering Minister, and Slain us here

Had she intended foul-play; she is Noble.

Dum.

But—

Lamot

What but?

Dum.

Her Murder'd Brothers memory;

Lamot.

When he fell, we were too young for Traytors,

Tho' not for Torments, had we been apprehended:

For in the high displeasure of this Queen

All our Posterity was doom'd: Some felt the Wheel,

Some Racked, some Hanged, others Impaled on stakes,

And had not we been then in Wittenburgh,

And past the fury of the Tyrants reach,

We'd added to the Number of the Dead.

Dum.

And think you still we shall not?

Lamot

By my Life,

It's Murder to suspect her, we'le to Court,

Our Lives are all that we can loose, our fame

No Art can Murder, nor time rase our name.

SCENE. II.

Enter Fredegonde and the Eunuch.

Queen.

What coference did they maintain with thee?

Eunuch.

None farther then the Language of their Eyes;

They look'd on me as if they meant me thanks,

Which their Amazement rob'd me of.

Queen.

Know'st thou them?

Eunuch.

No, dearest Lady, they appeared to me

Like to the Silent Postures in the Arras,

Only the form of Men with strange Faces.

Queen.

Come take them then, they are our Enemies,

Whom I have Angled with that Golden Bait;

Their Parents waded in my Brothers Blood;

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For which I'le be revenged of all their kin,

Did they increase as fast as I could kill,

Draws the Curtain and shews a Picture.

I'de ever Kill, that they may still increase.

This Picture drawn by an Italian,

(Which still I keep to whet my Anger on)

Does represent the Murther of my Brother,

For Ravishing this Beauteous peice of Ill;

Points to the Pictures.

A Cruel and a Terrible Mistake,

To Murther Clodymer, for Clotair's fact.

For which behold how Fredegond's revenged:

Points still.

This old Dumaine and Father to this Maid,

With all his Kindred, Sociates, and Allyes

(These brace of wicked ones, and this ravisht Whore,

The fair and fatal cause of these events

Only excepted) are here; here in this Picture.

Here's one bereft of Hands, and this of Tongue,

Finger thy Lute Maria, Sing out Isabel,

Heark Heark, Castrat, the Musick of the Spheres,

O ravishing touch! Heark how the others voice

Ecchoes the Lute, Is't not a Divine softness, Ha, ha, ha!

I do expect they now should rail extremely;

I prethee Scould at me good Isabel,

A little of the Woman; no! Maria,

Within the loathed Circle of mine Eyes

Anchor thy singers; Alas! thy Nails are pared;

Nor has poor Isabel a Tongue to scould with:

Two hory Greybeards in this angle lyes,

Will find their way to Hell without their Eyes.

Stabs the Picture.

Villains that Kill'd my Brother, how does this rellish thee,

To Execute Men in Pictures? Is't not rare?

Is't not a pastime for the Gods to gaze on?

Eunuch.

Were but Crotilda here, and these two Youngsters,

It were a pastime for the Gods to gaze on.

Queen.

We find the Eunuch fit for our Employments,

Therefore I will unclapse my Soul to thee;

I've always found thee Trusty, and I Love thee.

Eunuch.

With thanks I ever must acknowledge it,

And lay my Life at my great Mistress's feet

To spend it when she please.

Queen.

We need it not

As yet, Castrato, but we may hereafter.

See there's the Platform of great Childricks Death;

And they which must be thought his Murderers,

Our Enemies, and now new Courtiers;

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Whom hitherto I have reserv'd for Policy;

First, that they take away the Guilt from us;

Next, being apprehended, studied Deaths,

The Heads of all our Engineers shall' sit

To invent unheard of Torments for the Slaves;

I long to see them here, here in this frame,

Greeting their Kindreds Bones.

Eunuch.

Most Excellent!

Queen.

Then I'le commend thee to my Elder Son,

Where thou shalt wind into his Secret Thoughts;

As for the Younger Boy let me alone;

And when we have them on the Hip, they shall

Follow their Father unto Hells black Hall.

Eunuch.

You are the Goddess of invention.

Queen.

Will not this be Brave? Ha! how likest thou it!

Now by this Light I'me taken strangely with thee;

Kiss me, Kiss me, closer Villain:

Fie! what a January Lip thou hast,

A pair of Isickles; sure thou hast bought

A pair of East Lips of the Chast Diana's;

Thy Blood's meer Snow broth: Kiss me again.

Now see if you can find these Gallants forth,

And bring them to our presence.

Exit Eunuch, and Enter Landrey.

Oh Landrey!

Your Visits have been freer, but I grow Old,

And you Command the Beauties of the time.

Landrey.

What means my Noble Mistress? think you the Blood

Runs so degenerate within these Veins,

To stoop to an inferious Embrace,

When I enjoy the best?

Queen.

We are Betray'd.

I'le tell thee a good jest Landrey, wilt hear it?

This Morning dressing my Head, my Husband came,

And with his Switch, for he was then to Hunt,

A Gentle stroke he gave me on the back;

My fancy busied then to make me fine,

Supposing it was you that sported so;

Cry'd, my Landrey, in Story we still find,

The best Knights strike before, and not behind:

The King who always understood too fast,

Quits suddenly my Chamber, what he intends

I cannot guess, unless it be our Deaths,

Which if he speedily perform not, then

Know he shall never, for this Night concludes him;

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My Sons I weigh not, thus, they have Rebell'd,

And taken Spirit of late to oppose my, will,

And contradict my Pleasure in thy Love,

For which it is not safe that they should Live;

The Kingdoms Heir shall be a Child of thine,

And Kings and Queens shall follow in thy Line.

Oh! are they come, they're welcome, take our word,

Enter Lam, & Dum. very brave, & the Eunuch.

A Queens word, Fredegonde bids ye welcome

Both.

Your Highness is as full of Grace as Mercy.

Queen.

Rise and follow us, we'le be your Guardian,

And Protectress.

Landrey.

Madam, who are these?

Queen.

Sheep for my Shambles, whom I have fatted up

Only for Slaughter; Things are on foot decreed,

Shall make some Smile to Night, and others Bloed.

Exeunt Omnes.

SCENE III.

Enter Clovis at one Door, Aphelia and a Page with a Light at the Other.

Clovis.

My best Mistress, what Angel brought you hither;

For I know my Lions attend your goodness?

Why weep you? Trust me your Eyes seed pearl,

Bracelets for Gods to wear about their Arms.

Aphelia.

I am too fond, yet he Swears he Loves me,

I have believ'd him too, for I have found [...]

A God-like Nature in him, and a Truth [...]

Hitherto Constant. [...]

Clov.

Gentlest Sweet, the Cause?

Aphelia.

If this should be dissembled, not your Heart,

And having won my Souls affection,

Should on a Judgment more retired to State,

Fling off affection, and leave me in Love,

What Ill-bred-tales the World would make of me?

Clov.

That Jelousy I'le strangle, take this Ring

As I that Diamond dazled by thine Eyes,

Whose Beauties Sickned' cause Eclips'd by thine

Be these the mutual Pledges of our Love,

Our Marriage before our Marriage,

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And cursed be they that Seperate our Love,

Tho' France be one, or, what is greater, [...].

Are yor fears over now?

Aphe.

I dare no Ill,

And therefore doubt none.

Clov.

Heark! The King is coming.

A Florish.

Enter King, Queen, Clotaire, Landrey, Dumaine, Lamot, Ladies and Attendance; with the Guard, and Eunuch.

King.

Approach our Person nearer, for methinks

Y'ave honest faces, if your Hearts keep touch

To your outward Semblance, y'are a pair

Nothing but Death shall force from me.

Queen.

Good, Good!

This Physick works.

Aside.

Eunuch.

Best Madam, is it done?

Queeen.

I my Black Genius, such a fatal Dram

I have administer'd, will wing his Soul

With expedition to the other World:

His parts Essential, like a wearied Ghost

This Night forsakes his Inn, whence fled and gone,

Who knows where it shall lodge? Mark his looks,

See'st thou not Death thron'd in his hollow Eye?

Great Tyrant over Nature: See, observe.

Eunuch.

With looks inquisitive I have beheld him,

But can perceive no alteration.

Queen.

Thou art a Fool, and want'st the optique nerves

To pry into my Acts; where I lay trains

Death comes before the grief; The Sulpherous Match

Destroys the Powder with a motion slow

To what I work with: As Antumns aged Leaf,

In youth the prime and glory of the wood,

Not to be graspt by hand, falls with a puff,

And what we could not touch but now, we tread on.

So Childricke.

King.

Oh! Lend me thine Arm Dumaine,

Dum. and Lam. both busy about the King.

I know not what, but on the sudden, something—

Qu.

How the Nat [...]-play and buz about the flame

That must Consume them.

Eunuch.

Observant Coxcombs!

Clotaire.

What Star's Unspher'd and walks upon the Earth,

Making our Night a Noon? methinks her sight

Does Cute Blindness, and lends darkness Light.

Castrate.

Eunuch.

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Hush! We are observed, My Lord.

Clotaire.

What Lady's that?

Eunuch.

Which, that French India,

Who Sweats under the Pride she bears about her.

She with whom your Brother holds discourse?

Clotaire.

That!

Eun.

The Chast and Beautiful Aphelia.

Clot.

Most true, Nature has much befriended her;

Art sure she's Honest?

Eun.

Snow's not purer Sir,

No Vestal Virgin at the Altar hears

A Soul so incorrupt, so void of flame

That's loosly active.

Clot.

Eunuch, be our self;

Get but that Lady for me, thou conceivest—

Eun.

She dotes upon you Brother, through his means

I'le think upon some Plot.

Clot.

Lend me thine Ear.

They Whisper.

King.

Deser our pastimes pastimes till another Night,

I am not well at ease.

Dum.

Lights for the King.

Eun.

Dumaine be wise, thy foot is in the Snare,

Fredegonde hunts, an when she hunts, beware.

Dum.

Wel [...] warn'd half arm'd.

Lam.

What says the Slave, Dumaine?

Dum.

No matter what, mind we his Majesty.

Queen.

My Royal Husband.

King.

There is an Aetna in me,

The Air I draw returns illuminate.

Phylosophy, thy Element of fire's here.

Clot. and Clov.

How fares our Father?

King.

Oh I Burn!

Fire, Vesuvius, Aetna, Vesuvius.—.

Queen.

His grace grows worse and worse, O my griev'd Heart!

Support him Gently Friends, Gently, Gently.

Exit. Om. ma. Eu. and Aphelia.

Aphe.

I credit your report and will obey,

His mind is Honourable, like his Parentage,

His Single name has arm'd me, pray lead on.

A Screch within of all together Oh! Oh! Oh!

Eun.

Heark Lady! There was a fearfull sound,

I sear the King's departed, let's withdraw.

Exeunt.

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SCENE IV.

Enter Lamot, and the Guard.

Lamot.

O woe! woe! woe!

Clot.

Horror and Death!

Enter Clotaire.

Clov.

O dismal, fatal Hour! Enter Clovis.

Enter Queen, Dumaine, Landrey, Ladies, and the rest of the Guard.

Queen.

With Childrick, end the World.

Dum.

Have Patience gentle Queen.

Queen.

Stand off,

Preach Patience to the Sea, when the rude Wind

Swells her ambitious Billows above the Clouds;

And if thou Tutorest them to Peace and Silence,

I'le be as Calm as they.

Clot.

The Treason here,

And not the Traytor, quite confounds my Senses,

Queen.

Ignorance, dark as Hell; doubt ye the Traytors

I've brought a pair of Vipers to the Court,

Warm'd and reliev'd them with a sting to Kill us,

Who could be author of this deed but they?

His new Bosom'd Friends have slain him.—

Clot.

Our Guard,

Lay Hands upon the Traytors.

Dum.

O Lamot!

We are betray'd, basely beset with Snares.

They fight back to back against the Gu. & seape.

Lam.

Justice fight thou my cause with thine own Sword.

Qu.

O Villains! would you let them scape? two Men

To pass the strength of our undaunted Guard;

This made my Soul, this grates my very Gall

King.

Make after them, and bring them back again;

Or by my Fathers Soul ye breath your last

Still art thou here Aphelia? Ha! I may

Use my Commanding Power now—Lead on;

Come Mother, Brother, Friends, pray let us go.

King ne're receiv'd a Crown so full of woe.

Exeunt Omnes.

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ACT II.

SCENE I.

Enter Old Brissac and his Page, with a Taper.

Brissac.

IS she not come from Court yet?

Page.

No my Lord.

I lost her mid'st the amazed multitude;

Where doubtless frighted with the sudden horror,

She has with other beauties of the Court

Retired her self untill the Morning-Star.

Bris.

'Tis very likely so! Yet do ye hear,

Call up your Fellows; I'le not to Bed to Night,

Exit Page, & Enter presently with 2 Serving-men.

My thoughts are full of Tempest, dismal thinkings;

Where is my Son? Why went He not to Court?

Perhaps some Sacrilegious hands have seiz'd on her;

Courts are no Sanctuaries, she's no Vestal:

May be she's safe, then why returns she not?

Why sends she not glad Messengers of Health!

No! No! She's lost, and I undone for ever!

Run to the Court, they move not, why so fast?

Let me deliberate; that were to give

The Courtiers notice I have lost my Daughter,

Whom they will then suspect, and call her fame

Into an Ill construction; No! no! no!

O my poor Daughter, my Aphelia!

Enter Charles Brissac and Clovis Muffled in his Cloak.

Oh Sir you'r welcome, where's your Sister,

I must have her Sirrah and I will,

Where is she, Charles, where is she?

Char.

My Honoured Father,—

Bris.

Tut, Tut, Honour me no Honour,

Nor Father me no Father!

Where i [...] your Sister, Sirrah?

Charles.

My Sister!

Bris.

Your Sister!

Charles.

Within Sir, otherwise this Gentleman

Has lost his Labour; he's come to Visit her.

Bris.

Hoyday, Hoyday, Hoyday! to Visit her?

Plots, Plots, meer fetches; to Visit her!

What at the dead of Night? when the whole World

Is Sunk in slumber, and our Lusty Youth,

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As quiet as the Grave; to Visit her!

O most ridiculous! to Visit her!

Pray Gentleman consider, does your Sister keep

Times so Preposterous for Visits in?

Makes she a day of Night; or has she been breed

As loose as Lais, to love Night-Courtings?

Do not distract me thus, to Visit her!

Char.

Pray Sir collect your self, this Gentleman

Even at that Horrid point where the King, fell—

Bris.

Why look you now, there is more Mischief toward;

What a World is this?

Char.

Saw a Ring drop off my Sisters singer,

Which he had then deliver'd, but that fright

Which renders men forgetfull, made him so;

But knowing where she lived, (so he protests)

He would not Sleep until it were delivered.

Bris.

Pray let me see the Ring; Yes it was hers,

And she would say, she'd never part with it

But when she meant to Wed, if you have Married her

Or have her promise rivited to yours,

Tell me but where she is, I'le be content,

For I in losing her, have lost my self.

Clov.

O my Prophetique Soul, then 'tis no Idle fear.

Char.

How! The Monsieur, what makes he here?

Clov.

There's something whispers me, go not to Bed,

Go not to Bed till thou hast found her out:

Beest thou my Gonious, or what Powers else,

Suggesting lawfull things I will obey thee.

Sleep ever-waking Envy and Mistrust,

Yet things that never knew what Slumber meant;

Ghosts keep your Beds, ye Centinels of Night,

Goblins and Specters do not walk your round,

A general Lethargy Seize on this Hour,

Yet I alone the Watchman of this Night,

Will wake in spite of Fate. Argus thine Eyes

To find Aphelia and her Miseries.

Exit.

Bris.

Pritty, in good sadness, wond'rous pritty,

Is he in earnest?

Char.

Sure he dissembles not.

I little dreamt when I did let him In,

What Person grac [...]d our Threshold.

Bris.

Ha Sirrah!

What a Girl's this to be out o'th' way?

He's in Love that's certain, Let me see.

[Page 13]

When I was first a Lover as he is,

I'de just such cold fegaries in my Brain,

Such Midnight madness. This puling Baggage

May lose her self for ever, and her Fortunes,

For this Hours absence, go, be gone,

Follow his Royal Person, Comfort him,

Tell him my Daughter will again be found,

And so good Angels grant we meet with her.

Exe. one at one door and the other at the other.

SCENE II.

Enter Eunuch lighting Aphelia.

Aphe.

Into what Laberinth do you lead me Sir?

What perplexed by-ways? I should fear,

Had you not us'd his Name, which is to me

A Strengh 'gainst Terror; and himself so good,

Occasion cannot vary, nor the Night,

Youth nor his wild desire; Otherwise

A Si [...]nt Sorrow from mine Eyes would steal,

And tell s [...]d Stories for me.

Eunu.

Do not fear,

You are too tender of your Honour, Lady,

Too full of agaish trembling; the Noble Prince

Is as December frosty in desire,

Save what is Lawfull, he not owns that cheat,

Which were you Snow, would thew a tear from you.

Aphe.

This is the place appointed.

Eunu.

I'le go call him,

In the mean time, please you to rest your self,

Here is a Little Book will bear you Company

Gives her a book, she sits down and reads.

'Till I return, which will be suddenly

Now Eunuch must the Artumie of Wit,

From the dull Mixture of these leaden Brains

Extract the Elixir of pure Villany.

Hither I'le send the King, not that I mean

To give him leave to cool his burning Lust,

For Clovis shall prevent him in the Fact;

And thus I shall Endear my self to both:

[Page 14]

Clovis Enrag'd perhaps will kill the King,

Or by the King will perish; if both fall,

Or either, both ways makes for me.

The Queen as rootedly does hate her Sons,

As I her Ladiship; to see this fray

She must be brought by me. It shall be so;

Her breath will stir in them confused Storms,

In midst of whose wild rage, the Court will seem

A G [...]lgoth [...]e of Mischief; for her sake

I'le say I set on foot this hopefull brawl,

Whilst she will Hug, and Kiss me for the same:

Thus on all sides, the Eunuch will play foul,

Exit.

And as his face is black, he'l have his Soul.

Aphe.

Poor ravish'd Philomel, thy lot was ill

She leaves reading.

To meet that Violence in a Brother,

Which I in a Stranger doubt: Yet methinks

I am too Confident, for I feel my heart

Burthen'd with something ominous; these men,

Are things of Subtle Nature, and their Oaths

Unconstant as themselves—Let me proceed.

Clot.

Methinks I stand like Tarquin in that Night

Enter Clo. Mussled.

When he defiled the Chastity of Rome,

Doubtfull of what to do, and like a Thief

I take each noise for an Officer.

Tho' I do know it is a deed of Death,

Condemned for Torments in the other World,

Such tempting sweetness dwells on every Limb,

That I must venture my Essential parts

For the fruition of a moments Lust:

Oh Pleasure dearly bought.

Aphe.

Clovis may prove unkind, alack why not?

He's but a man. Say he should offer foul,

The Evil Counsel of a Secret Place,

and Night his Friend, may out-tempt his will:

I dare not stand the Hazzard, Guide me Light

To some Untrodden Place, where poor I may,

Wear out the Night with sighs till it be day.

Clot.

I must be bold and resolute; Sweet Maid,

He meets her.

Fair, Virtuous Damsel, Hail.

Aphe.

What man art thou,

That dost thy Countenance bury in thy Cloak,

And hidest they face from Darkness and the Night?

If thine intents deserve a Musler too,

And that thy thoughts dare non allow themselves.

[Page 15]

Withdraw, and Act them not, what art thou? speak,

And wherefore cam'st thou hither?

Clot.

Wouldst thou know?

I came to find one Beautiful as thou,

And am a man willing to please a Woman.

Nay, nay, you must not leave mo thus.

She profers to go off.

Aphe.

Must not.

Clot.

No, must not, 'tis I that speaks it Lady.

Aphe.

I know thee not.

Cloth.

But I must you, yes and the right way too,

Which is th' acquaintance surest.

Aphe.

Help, Help, Help!

Clot.

Nay, nay, nay, none of your Prick-Songs Lady,

If you rise a Note, or beat the Air with Clamour,

You see your Death.

Draws his Dagger

Aphe.

What Violence is this?

Why do you threaten War, fright my soft peace

With most ungentle Steel, what have I done

Dangerous, or am like to do? why do you wrack me thus?

pulls her along.

Mine Arms are Guilty of no crime, do not torment 'em,

My Hands and they have joyn'd in Prayer together

For mankind that is Holy; if in that Act

They have not Pray'd for you, mend and be good,

The fault is none of theirs.

Clot.

You guess my Mind

What Earthquake shakes you thu?

She trembles as ama [...]ed.

Come do not seem more Holy then you are,

I know your Heart.

Aphe.

Let your Dagger too, Noble Sir strike home,

And Sacrifice Soul to Chastity,

As white and spotless as her Innocence

Clot.

This is not the way.— Know you me Beauty?

[...]

Aphe.

The King!

Clot.

The same, Rise up and put off sear.

Aphe.

I dare not sear, it's Treason to suspect

My King can think an Ill, worse to Act it:

I know you'r God like good, and have but try'd

How far weak Woman durst be Virtuous

Clot.

Pritty Simplicity, thou art deceived:

Thy Wit as well as Beauty wounds me, and thy To [...]

In pleading for thee, pleads against thy self:

It is thy Virtue moves me, and thy Good,

Tempts me to Acts of Evil: wert thou bad,

Or loose in thy desires, I cou'd stand

[Page 16]

And only Gaze, not Surfet on thy Beauty;

But as thou art, let me not see thy face,

I'me desperate grown in Ill, and must enjoy

thee, or not thee thy Life.

Aphe.

I offer it.

You are my King and may Command my Life,

My will to Sin you cannot, you may force

Unsancted deeds upon me, Spot my fame,

And make my Body suffer, not my mind.

When you have done this irreligious deed,

What Trophy, or what Triumph will it bring,

More then a living Scorn upon your Name?

Do not believe this deed can lye conceal'd,

For Kings appear when they are Thron'd in Sin,

Like to prodigious Creatures in the Air,

At which all Tongues are mute, all Eyes do stare.

Is't not a Single Ill which you commit:

What in the Subject is a pe [...]ty fault

Monsters your Actions, and's a soul offence:

You give your Subjects License to offend

When you do teach them how.

Enter Clovis and Charles.

Clot.

Good, Ill apply'd:

Aside.

I will endure no longer, come along,

Or by the curious Spinstry of thy Head,

Which Nature's cunning'st singer twisted out,

I'le drag thee to my Coach: Tempt not my fury.

Clov.

Can I endure this; O my Salt Blood

Leap from my Bosom, up into the Air.

Unhand me Charles, and render me my self,

Lest I forget my self on thee.

Char.

Great Prince,

Remember 'tis your Brother and the King.

Clov.

Oh that I could forget it, and shake off

Duty at once, and Consanguinity,

That like a Whirlwind I might rush upon him,

And bear him to Destruction—Monster of men,

Thou King of Darkness, down unto thy Hell,

I have a Spell will lay thee, Honesty,

And this abused Goodness: Is't not enough

That thou hast wronged Crotilda, ravisht a Maid

A Virgin of that Purity of Life,

Might Saint Her here on Earth; but wilt thou add

Unto thy First a Second Violence?

The Gods must not forgive!

Clot.

[Page 17]

I despise thee;

If thou wouldst gain our Love, be a Brother,

And aid me in my longings.

Clov.

Be a man;

And shake a Nature off, that needs must damn thee:

O set a Period to Sins Progress here,

Proceed not in these Courses, lest you grow

As Great in Sin as Scepter.

Clot.

Traytor, Boy!

Thy fate moves in those words.

Clov.

Is't even so;

Then Guard thy self our King, for I am quick

As Lightning, or the thought that Executes.

Char.

Hold hold, my Lord, forbear; Call in more aid,

Ring out the Alarum-Bell, Call up the Court,

Bestir thee Eunuch, whilst interpose

My Body to the fury of the Storm.

Exit Eun. Alarum-Bell.

Qu.

What means this sudden out-cry? Oh my Sons!

Hold, Hold! Part them good Gentlemen.

Ent. Qu. & Ladys Guard, Landrey

Clot.

Mother you are a trouble, stand from mine Arm,

Let me cut off Rebellion in the Spring,

Lest it beget a harvest that will prove

Fruitfull in Treason, Brav'd by a Subjects hand.

Qu.

Though Nature by Precedency of Birth,

Made thee his King, it therefore follows not

His Murtherer; wherein is our Clo [...]r [...]

Greater then Clovis? Know, the self-same Blood

That Spirits thee, makes him as Valiant,

The difference lies in Anno Domini.

Eun.

Accurate Mischief, Fluent Villany.

Aside.

Qu.

I grant thou art his Elder; by which Law

Thou art born his Subject, not his Equal, Clovis;

For Clotaire is thy King, and Subjects hands,

Without the deep and dangerous Trayto [...] Name,

May not advance against their Sovereign, Head.

Clot.

Neither shall his without correction:

Upon him Slaves.

Qu.

Hold, I Command ye hold.

O Clotaire, thou art of a Valiant Soul,

And wilt thou basely thus beset thy Brother?

Fear Argues spirits most degenerate,

And that thou searest th'advantage argues i [...]

Oh set not on thy Slaves; if he must dye,

Let thy hand Sacrifice, not Butcher him.

Clot.

[Page 18]

That Argument Sounds harsh; shall Clotaire, fear?

Eun.

Exquisite Philter, Poyson to the height.

Aside.

Clov.

Sacrifice me, it is not in his Power.

Qu.

We hope so Clovis; yet thy Brother King,

Is as an Earthly-God, his Will, his Law,

His Power uncircumscrib'd, unlimited,

For Kings have will as uncontroul'd as fate,

And Majesty can look a Subject dead.

Clov.

How look me Dead? I do not fear his frown [...].

Qu.

I Grant thee as great a Basaliske as he;

As he is meetly man: but as thy King,

Divinity does prop him; he stands sure

That builds on that Foundation: Yet I know

Thy Sword's as Sharp as his, and where it lights

Imprints as much of fate, thine Arm as strong,

Thy Spirit as daring, and thy will as prompt

To any Action that may right a man.

Clot.

He is your Darling, you do well to praise him;

When I have slain him, Write his Epitaph.

Clov.

My Epitaph, this Pen of Steel shall first,

Write on thy Heart, thine end.

Eu.

It Operates.

The Venom'd Potion of a Womans Tongue

Is more sublim'd then Mercury.

Clot.

Our Guard

That let's a Traytor pull me by the heard:

They fall upon him with th [...]r Halberts and he's Slain.

Cut him to peices Rascalls.

Qu.

O my Son!

Villain, thy Hands have made these holes, for which

The winged Vengeance of a Mothers Curse

Subtler in Operation then Lightning,

Strike thro' thy Body every Limb a Death.

Eu.

How cunningly she spits her Poyson forth,

I know her Soul is Light, she's glad he's Dead,

And joys in the opportunity to Curse the killer;

For which she gains the name of Pious Mother:

Here's pritty Woman Villain, dissimulation.

Aph.

If they have slain him, wherefore do I Live?

O my swoln'n Heart.

Clot.

Bear hence these Corps, withall

Remove that Syren from our wandring Eyes,

Landrey and 2 or 3 Lords more seem to Sollicite for Aph.

And Cage her in a Dungeon, hence begone,

Bear her to Prison, reason not the Cause

A Kings Prerogative's above his Laws.

Exit.

Aph.

[Page 19]

Be mercifull, and lead to Death, away;

Since he is gone, it is to Dye, to stay.

Exeunt Omnes, manen [...] Queen, Landrey, Eun.

Qu.

Now we begin to slourish, this black Night

Is only lighted by our stars, that smile

Upon these actions, and rejoyce to see

Thee our sole Favousite so near a Crown:

But tell me Landrey, how did I play the Mother?

Did not I present a Niobe, in passion,

Did'st thou not fear an Inundation.

A deluge of Salt Rhume?

Land.

You had no costive Eye, that I dare say,

For certainly you wept.

Qu.

Yes; as a good Actor in a Play would do,

Whose fancy works as if he waking dreamt

So strongly on the object that it Copes with,

Shaping realities from Mockeries;

And so the Queen did weep: By this good Light

I think I could become the Stage as well

As any she that sells her Breath in publick.

Come shall we Act Landrey?

Land.

Act great Lady;

What Play shall we Enact?

Qu.

Dull Landrey,

Nothing that's new, Old Plays you know are best:

Eunuch is our Bed ready.

Eu.

Great Queen it is.

Qu.

Come then my Joy to Bed, where we will sport,

And laugh at Death, which Triumphs in the Court.

Exeunt Mane [...] Eunuch.

Eu.

Go sleep your last; I'le straight unto the King,

And he shall take them in the very Act;

And then to Cover my Discovery

I'le set on fire the Queens Bed-Chamber,

That so I may disturb them more secure,

And yet the Plot not mine: I'le tell the King

Unless he present Help, his Mother burns.

About is then, this is a happy Night;

The more it works their Woe, more's my delight

Exit.

[Page 20]

ACT III.

SCENE I.

Enter the King and Eunuch.

Eun.

LOok how it flames! I fear some Treachery;

Beat at her Chamber-door, cry it aloud,

Knocks at the Door.

And let your Voice be Thunder to this Lightning.

Cry Fire, Fire, Fire! The Court is all a Hot-house.

Fire, Fire, Fire!

Clot.

Great Queen, Royal Mother, open your door,

Lest you do sleep for ever, Mother awake.

The God of sleep lies heavy on her Eyes.

Force open the door, Fire, Fire, Fire!

again.

Eun.

It's fortified 'gainst strength, you must call lowder.

Clot.

Mother, Queen, Mother, awake, awake!

Your sleep was never liker death then now:

Lady, Great Princes, Fire, Fire, Fire!

again.

Enter Queen above in Night attire and Landrey.

Qu.

What Sawcy Groom

Exit Eunuch.

Beats our offenceless doors thus daringly,

He'd better rous'd a sleeping Lioness,

Then thus to have broke our slumbers.

Clot.

Look,

The Fire will give you Light, 'tis I your Son;

Ely from that Chamber, else you are but dead,

Your Court is all a bonefire.

Qu.

Let it burn.

I've lost my Credit everlastingly,

aside.

I will not move a-foot.

aloud.

Clot.

You must be forced then.

beats at the door.

Land.

Where are your wits now in necessity,

Softly.

We shall be taken, and you sham'd for ever;

Bethink, Bethink your self.

Qu.

I have't, it shall be so; there put on that,

Appearing in his Brothers Warlike Shape.

Thou wilt amaze, and so pass by him safely.

aside.

Do not appear to me, I did not wound thee;

aloud.

[Page 21]

Seek out the Beds of those that caus'd thy death,

And howl to them thy pittfull Complaint.

Clot.

Whom do you hold discourse with, with the Air?

Bethink your self, this is not time to dally.

Qu.

Oh, my Son, such horrid apparitions, full of dread have I beheld, have quite unwitted me:

Your Brothers Ghost, fearfully terrible,

Has thr [...] [...]his dismal night appear'd to me:

His Wou [...] did bleed, just as our Clotaire caus'd them,

To those [...] points, and calls Aphelia

To bear [...] companyi' th'other World,

Or else [...] [...]ightly haunt us in our sleeps;

Thrice d [...]be [...]y Revenge, and with that word

Sprang [...] the roof, which now stands bare to Heaven,

Where [...] did rain down fire which here we see.

Clot.

Behold in comes.

Enter Landrey in Armour.

Qu.

Oh fear it not my Son.

Clot.

What art thou that usurp'st this dead of night

In me [...]tal like the ai [...]? Why art thou sent

To cast a horror on me? If thy Soul

Walks unrevenged, and the grim Ferry-man

Deny thy passage, we'le perform thy rights;

Oh do not wound me with such piteous signs

Lest I dissolve to air, and like thy self

Astright fool-Mortals: If thou desirest

Aphelia's death, t'appease thy troubled Soul,

Make some consenting sign and so depart,

Thy sight afflicts my Soul.

Exit Landrey. Enter Queen.

Qu.

How fares our Son?

Clot.

Oh I am full of faintings, nothing but Aphelia?

Qu.

She must dye, you see it's requisite.

Clot.

Would he had askt my life first.

Enter Eunuch.

Qu.

Why should you be so fond upon a Woman,

Clot.

Woman's the least part in her, she's all goddess.

Qu.

'Twas your offer;

Remember there's no jesting with the gods.

Eu.

What might this mean? ha? where are my brains?

Clot.

I had forgot my self, your pardon Mother:

Bear her from me this Jewel, I esteem

gives her a Jewel.

Equal with life, it was my Brothers Picture;

And with it, this, that she prepare to dye

Tell her, and if you can be moved to sorrow

Express it in your tears, it is not I

Pronounce this fatal Sentence 'gainst her life,

[Page 22]

But the hid will, and Providence of Heaven;

Against the which to be offended, were

As impious as not obey. Castrato stay,

Exeunt [...]nines manet Eunuch who profers to go out.

And with thy COuncel cure thy dying Prince,

Thou art my bosome, Eunuch, and to thee

I dare unclasp my Soul: What's to be done,

This is a damned Spirit I have seen

And comes to work my Ruine.

Eu.

What Spirit?

Clot.

My Brothers Spirit in Arms, here it came forth,

Here, from my Mothers Chamber as I knockt.

Eu.

Was it in Armour said you? what in Armour?

Clot.

Yes in the Armour he was us'd to wear

When we have run at Tilt, 'till our cleft Spears

Have with their splinters scar'd the Element.

Eu.

That Armour as I well remember, I did leave

In the Queens Bed-Chamber, as yesterday

After the Triumphs and the Turnements,

Having unbrac't the Prince: 'tis even so.

Why this is a ridiculous Passion.

Clot.

My state requires thy tears, and not thy mirth.

Eu.

The Devil came from your Mothers Chamber Sir,

She has a Circle which can raise a Spirit,

A Mars in Armour too; she is a Venus,

And through your License Landrey is no Eunuch.

Clot.

What killing sense thou utterst,

There's something in it I would understand

And yet I dare not. Landrey! how know'st thou this?

Eu.

Since I have gone so far I'le tell you.

I look'd in at the Key-hole, and I saw

Him in your Mothers Arms, as sportingly

As e're I saw your Father.

Clot.

Thou hast shot Poyson thro' me:

False with Landrey her sometime-Page!

Eu.

Even with the same.

Clot.

It's not impossible,

My Mother always had a scanted fame,

aside.

His thoughts to have been mine: I am distracted.

Was he the fearful Vision that I saw?

Eu.

Upon my life he was.

Clot.

But wherefore would they have Aphelia dye?

Eu.

There lies the Mystery,

They fear you will accept her as your Queen,

And frustrate their intents, who but expect

[Page 23]

Your hop'd for death, that they might so become

(What now you'd cross) Lawfully Man and Wife

And Govern in your Seak.

Clot.

This carries shew of truth, or is't a lye

Well shaddow'd by a Slave? I cannot tell;

My Mother certainly is not so bad,

It is a sin to think it: Hence, avoid my sight,

Thou sower of debate, thy Seeds are strow'd

On steril ground, and therefore ill bestow'd.

Exit.

Eu.

Is't even so? work and about my brain

I'me lost for ever if not close again.

Exit.

SCENE II.

Enter Dumaine, Martel, Burbon, Lanoue.

Lanoue.

Are all your Troops well furnish'd gainst resistance?

Are your men bold and daring? resolute

To run your hazzard? indifferent rich, not poor

That only fight for Bread? such oft betrary

The sinews of a well-knit Plot for gain,

When these as well fight to desend as win.

Dum.

Noble Lanoue;

Mine know, nor fear, nor death; Souls of that fire

They'l catch the Bullet flying, scale a Wall

Battled with Enemy, stand Breaches, laugh

The Thunder of the Canon, call it Musick

Fitter a Ladies Chamber then the Field;

When o're their heads the Element is scaled,

Darken'd with Darts, they'l sight under the shade,

And ask no other roof to hide their heads in;

They fear not Jove, and had the Gyants been

But half so spirited they had dethron'd him.

Lan.

They're Soldiers fit to sack a Kingdom then,

And share the spoils between them.

Bur.

Were it come to that sport once—

Mar.

Burbone it must, or some of us must fall.

Lan.

Where shall we first attempt?

Dum.

The Pallace.

Burb.

I say no, it's dangerous.

Dum.

It is the safest course.

Mart.

[Page 24]

Believe it not, for it is full of hazzard.

Dum.

So is the general enterprize in hand.

Mart.

But this of certain ruine,

Lan.

Give us a reason why you would invade

The Pallace first, and we are satisfied.

Dum.

Now you speak like your self:

Then understand, Lamot lives still at Court

Disguis'd like a poor Chyrurgeon,

To whom the Prince being delievered

to be Embalm'd and Bowel'd, finding life

Yet in his Corps, which may he's very Skillfull;

Has balsom'd all his wounds and cur'd him.

Lan.

And what of this? This makes against us quite.

Dum.

I did but even now receive this letter,

Which constancy affirms it from himself.

He says it is not known in Court, the Prince to live

gives Lan.

For divers reasons best known to themselves,

And herein doth require of secresy;

Therefore dear friend divulge it not.

Lan.

He says the Princes supposed funeral

This day is solemnized with greatest pomp,

And that Aphelia dyes a sacrifice,

That hour he is buried, on his Herse:

What if we made attempt to save the Virgin?

Dum.

That must not be, better she fall alone

Then all of us together; and now best Friends,

Let's behave us bravely; it's no base act

We undertake, but our whole Countries freedom

From slavery and bondage, Men of worth stand bare

To Pages, and gilt butterflies, besides the Queen

Will grave us all, rather then want sport

In spilling Humane bloud; come let's withdraw,

And lay the Platform of this mighty work:

My Soul sits smiling in me I Divine,

Though now it lowre we shall see Sun will shine.

Drum.

SCENE III.

Enter Clovis, and Lamot disguis'd like a Chyrurgeon. Recorders.

Clov.

Strephon, for so thou nam'st thy self, thou'st made

Thy Prince thy Subject, by this timely cure,

[Page 25]

This is the hour I must be buried living,

And with me the Fair Aphelia, Strephon

Is it so?

Lamot.

Nay this the very Minute,

Hark, I hear them coming—

a dead March within.

Clov.

Lend me thy Cloak

Here we'le observe the Mourners.

Recorders. Enter King, Fredegond, and attendance, and Eunuch at one door in Mourning as after the C [...]p [...] of Clovis; at the other Aphelia led by two boys, a Headsman before as to Sacrifice, all in White, the Herse is set down between both the Companies, Aphelia we pin [...] at one End, and the King at the other, who after a little pause speaks as followeth; after these Old Brissac weeping.

Clot.

Thou Royal load of Honour, burthen of grace,

Fitting an Atlas Shoulder, which he groans

More then the Spheres and Sweats thy weight not theirs;

Let me bedew thy Herse with pious tears,

(Balm to thy wounds) repenting ones;

Behold this spotless sacrifice, a virgin,

As pure in thought as vesture, an oblation

To ransom Jove and Heaven had they been taken,

And so we yeild her up.

gives her to the Headsman.

Bris.

Oh my good Lord,

This is conspiracy 'gainst an old mans life,

Have you no other way to murther me

But to begin with Her? Why must she dye?

Because she's fair? or that—

Clot.

Brissac, peace:

Clov.

What Pagent's this?

the King takes the Sword from the Headsman.

Lam.

Contain your self

You may prevent the danger when you please.

Clot.

Behold the Conquest of thine eyes Aphelia,

France at thy foot, tread on his Royalty,

Or if thy Nature knows not to forgive;

the King kneels and lays the Sword at Aphelia's feet.

Which to believe were impious, take this Sword

Send me a willing, willing sacrifice,

T'appease the troubled spirit of this love.

Qu.

O Eunuch that she'd take him at his word.

aside.

Clot.

I find [...] speaking pitty in thine eyes,

Which thence will drop upon thy gentle tongue

And cry, In peace long live my Sovereign.

Aphe.

Long live Clotaire, long live my Sovereign.

Clot.

[Page 26]

The Motions of the Spheres move in that tongue:

Turn all your Sables into sutes of Joy,

Your dirges into sprightfull wedding airs:

Why looks our Court so sad, is this a time

To anchor your aspects unto the earth?

By my blest self he's a traytor to the height

That does not streight Salute her as his Queen.

they sting off their Mourning Cloaks.

Om.

Long live Aphelia, Queen of France, and us.

La.

Do you hear this? what are you Planet-struck? Glovis, Prince, Monsieur.

the Cardinal contracts them.

Clot.

Cardinal—

Lam.

Now, now, prevent them yet, are you a stone?

Have you a working Pulse? O Statue-Prince

Thou art undone for ever.

Clov.

Where am I?

Awake! for ever rather let me sleep:

Is this a Funeral? oh that I were a Herse,

discloses himself.

And not the mock of what is Pageanted.

Clot.

Amazement quite confounds us, Clovis alive!

Clov.

Oh that in nature I could find an art

Could teach me to forget, I ever lov'd

This, her great master-piece. Oh well-built frame

why do'st thou harbour such unhallow'd ghests

To house within thy bosom, Perjury?

If that our Vows are registred in heaven

Why are they broke on earth? Aphelia

This was a hasty match, the subtle air

Has not yet cool'd the breath, with which thou swor'st

Thy self into my soul; and on thy cheeks

The print and path-way of those tears remain

That woo'd me to believe so: Fly me not,

I am no Spirit, touch my active pulse

And thou shalt find it make such harmony

As youth and health enjoy.

Eu.

The Queen, she faints.

Clov.

Is there a god left so propitious

To rid me of these fears? still lot her sleep;

For if she wake (O King) she will appear

Too Monstrous a specter for frail Eyes

To see, and keep her Senses.

Lamot.

Are you Mad?

Clov.

Nothing so happy, Strephon, I would I were.

In times Swift-progress, I despair the hour

That brings such comfort with it; I should then

[Page 27]

Forget that ever she was pleasing to me,

I should no more remember she would sit

And sing mo into Dreams of Paradice,

Never more hang about her Ivory Neck

Believing such a one Diana was;

Never more doat she breaths Arabia,

Or Kiss her Corral Lip into a paleness.

Clot.

Clovis what's past we are content to think

It was spoken by our Brother, and not our Subject,

Clov.

I had forgot my self; yet well remember

Yon Gorgon has Transform'd me into Stone,

And since that time my Language has been harsh,

My words too heavy for my tongue, too earthly;

I was not horn so; Trust me Aphelia

Before I was possest with these black thoughts

I could sit by thy side, and rest my head

Upon the rising pillows of thy Breast

Whose natural sweetness would invite mine eyes

To sink in pleasing slumbers, wake and kiss

The Rose-bods that afforded me such bliss.

But thou art now a General Disease

That catest into my Marrow, turn'st my blood

And makest my Veins run Poyson, that each sense

Groans at the alteration. Am I the Monsieur?

Does Clovis talk his sorrows and not Act?

Oh man be womanized; wert thou not mine

How comes it thou art his?

Clot.

You have done ill,

And must be taught so; you Capitulate

Not with your equal, Clovis she's thy Queen.

Clov.

Upon my Knees I do acknowledge her,

Queen of my thoughts, and my affections,

O pardon me if my ill tutored tongue

Has forfeited my Head; if not, behold

Before the Sacred Altar of your Feet

I lie a willing Sacrifice.

Aph.

Arise:

And henceforth C [...]nis thus instruct thy Soul;

There he [...] a depth in face, which earthly eyes

May faintly look into but cannot f [...]those

T [...] had'st my Vow 'till death to [...] thy Wise,

You [...]

A [...] [...] bestowed.

[...]

[Page 28]

A long-farewell to Love; thus I do break

breaks a Ring

Your Pledge of broken faith. And with this Kiss,

The last that ever Clovis must print there

Un-kiss that Kiss which seal'd it on thy Lips:

Ye Powers ye are unjust, for her wild breath

(That has the Sacred tye of Contract broken)

Is still the same Arabia that it was.

Nay I have done; beware of Jelousy;

I would not have you nourish jelous thoughts,

Tho' she has broke her saith to me, to you

Against her Reputation, she'l be true;

Farewell my first Love Lost, I'le choose to have

No Wi [...]e till death shall wed me to my Grave,

Come Streph [...]n, come, and teach me how to dye,

That gav'st me Li [...]e so unadvisedly.

Exeunt Clov. & Lam.

Clot.

'T was mine I sent it to Aphelia;

the King here beholds in Landreys Hat the J [...]wel he sent by his Mother to Aphelia.

Mother I've found your [...]inion; but no more,

The time's not ripe: something I must do—

Qu.

Call back the Monsieur, let him not

Depart so full of grief.

Clot.

Mother content your self;

Let Clovis that way go, this way will we,

He's great with grief, we with felicity.

Exeunt omnes mauent Qu. & Bunuch.

Qu.

Mischief grows lean Castrato, all our Plots

Turn head upon themselves; my brain's grown weak

And in this Globe the Policy's not lest

To kill a Worm unseen; I am undone

And all my Plots discover'd:

Eunuch.

This is Strange.

Some commick devil crosseth our designs,

How else should he revive? or you, prepar'd,

Nay, in the arms of Landrey, when desire

Had made you all a Venus, meet events

So barren in their expectations?

Qu.

There lies the grief Castrato; had the Court

(So I had quencht these burning flames)

Been buried in her cinders I had not car [...]d.

Eu.

But yet Landreys escape does qualify

The non-performance.

Qu.

That sits smiling here:

It set my brains upon the ten [...]ors, Eunuch,

Was't not a rare device?

Eu.

And was not I

As fortunate to leave that Armour there?

[Page 29]

But now what's to be done?

Qu.

My dull Aetiope

I will instruct thy blackness, learn to know

My reputation's sickned, and my fame

Is look'd into with narrow eyes at Court,

Therefore it's thus decreed: I will remove

And sequester my self from Company.

Eu.

Good.

Qu.

Thou know'st where Childrick kept his Concubine

To none discover'd but thy self and me,

For which they are no more.

Eu.

Right.

Qu.

There will I

And my Landrey securely spend our time;

Revell, embrace, and what not my Eunuch?

The Cave that leads unto the Postern-Gate

Which Childrick made will give him entrance

No eye acquainted; being thus retired

What Lust inslam'd must be by Lust un-sired.

Eu.

Excellent Mistress I applaud your brain.

Qu.

I will away to night, I cannot brook

These loathed Nuptials, they have undone

My hopes on earth for ever; therefore away,

Acquaint Landrey with these designs.

Eu.

What else?

Qu.

If by the engino of thy stronger brain

Thou could'st remove—

Eu.

Aphelia, or the King,

Monsieur or all, is it not so my Queen?

Qu.

Thou hast a brain which doth ingender thoughts

As regal as our own; which does beget

A race of rare events; what pity 'tis

Thy body should be sterril, sith thy mind

Is of so pregnant and a fruitfull kind:

Farewell remember me.

Exit.

Eu.

Remember you, you shall be thought on, sear it not.

And now bethink thee Eunuch, all thy Flots

Find fruit less goodness, only in the King:

His Worship walk'd into the other World

Like a tame Sucking-Child that dy'd of the Pip.

The trouble is behind, my hare extends

To the whole Family, I must root them up;

And Beldam first with you: But how? but how?

It in her proud desires, I prevent

[Page 30]

Her Lust this Second time, before the Third

She may repent and save her loathed Soul,

Which my Revenge would Damn; yet were she crost

Her Lust, being now at full flood within her,

And no way left to quench her burning flames,

Her dryer Bones would make a Bonefire

Fit for the Devil to warm his hands by.

Ha! Shall it be thus? No it must not be;

Nor must the high and mighty Queen Aphelia

This Night Enjoy her Bridegroom, I must set

Some Mischief instantly on foot to cross it,

If I miscarry in't, Story shall tell

I did attempt it bravely tho' I fell.

Offers to go off, & met with the M. & La.

Clov.

Diswade me not Castrato! I have sought thee

Through every angle of this spatious Court,

I've bus'ness to impart.

Eu.

And so have I.

Clov.

Mine are of Honourable consequence

And do require thine aid.

Eu.

So does mine yours.

Clov.

Aphelia is—

Eu.

Your Brother's Wife, and you

Would fain injoy her too? Why sir you may,

But time must work her.

Clov.

Eunuch thou art wide,

Those vanities of Love are quite Extinct,

Revenge does swell the Monsieur, and his thoughts

Which burns within him must be quencht with blood,

Seest thou this Letter, 'tis a script I seign'd,

shews him a Letter.

For I can Counterseit Aphelia's hand,

The King has banisht Landrey from the Court

Because he wore the Jewel which he sent

To his Aphelia, light suspicious

But this shall aggrevate: find thou the King,

Shew him this note, it doth express great Love

To Landrey from Aphelia and withall

It mentioneth the Jewel as a gift

To gratify her servant, this to the rest

Of poyson he has suckt already in

Shall so inflame him, that the Court shall burn

Too Hot for his Aphelia

Eu.

Think it done:

But now your aid, since that your mind is bent

On Honourable deeds, here's one will try you.

Clov.

[Page 31]

What is it Eunuch?

If that is bare an honourable Name;

Tho' death stood gaping wide to swallow me

I will not shrink nor fear.

Eu.

Noble: Hear't then.

Your mother's loose, and this night renders up

Her body unto lust if not prevented,

I can direct you how, and where, with whom,

If you'l be tame, be tame, dishonou [...] blots

Your Princely Parentage.

Clov.

My soul finds the Man

Is't not Landrey?

Eu.

The same.

Clov.

I'le tear him all to pieces,

Whore my mother? Eunuch lead the way,

In what thou shalt prescribe, we will obey.

Exeunt Omnes

ACT IV

SCENE I.

A Bed. Enter Clotaire Solus.

Clot.

WHat vulture gripes me here: ha, what art thou?

If thou be'st jelousy, mount and be gone;

Fly to the vulgar bosome, whose cheap thoughts,

Despair their own performance; in a King

Thou shew'st a Nature retrograde to Honour.

Suppose she gave the jewel, must in follow

She therefore is disloyal, poor consequence

A bubble for a boy to play withal.

I am resolv'd; Heark I hear her coming:

O Juno what a gate and look is there?

Soft Musick. Enter Aphelia, Isabel, Julia, with Tapers as having Aphelia to Bed.

Aph.

Mock me not Ladies with this Ceremony,

For I am sitter to attend on you,

I am become a Servant and a Slave

To every moody Passion of my Lord:

Pray leave me, all that's behind

I can perform my self.

Isa.

[Page 32]

Great Queen of France.

Aph.

That name of Queen sounds strangely in mine ears,

It's like a Language that I once could speak,

But now have quite forgot, call not me Queen;

All Gilded Royalties I'le quite renounce,

And all my study shall be how to dye:

Empress of woe, and Queen fo Misery.

Jul.

You must not weigh these things so deep,

Your Lord is of an honourable spirit,

And you will see how calm he will return,

Blessing your bridal b [...]d with fruitfull Issue.

Aph.

No, No.

The Saffron-colour'd Hymen frowns upon me:

These Tapers too were lighted at a Pike,

As [...]it attendants on the Grave, not Bed.

Juno denye; her presence at this match

And all the ill pres [...]gi [...]g Birds of Night

Sing satal Req [...]iems for a bridal song

Oh Ladies, is not this ominous?

Clot.

Yes my Aphelia if that rugged fate

Lye in a kiss then it is ominous,

Her kisses melt upon my lip: if sin

Have so much heaven in it, I'le be a sinner.

Aph.

I hope your sears are satisfy'd now,

You bare a brow so pleasant.

Clot.

What pritty foolery is this Aphelia?

I am not jelous, for by all that's good,

I cannot think thee evil; go be gone

Ex. manet Clot.

Unharness your Lady for these warrs,

We're of the Camills and sight naked.

Ye powers that favour lovers, infuse apt Strength,

Though every Nerve and Sinew of this frame

Make me all pleasure; and unto the Bride,

Add every vein a Venus; guide me light,

Where in one Bed lyes all the Worlds delight.

What knockings this? Castrato, what's the news?

knocking within, Enter Eun.

Deliver Briefly, for I am in hast.

Eu.

Not yet in Bed? oh happy, happy minute:

Untill this hour I ne're was fortunate,

I have preserved my King, my Prince, my Patron,

From the loose ardor of a Strumpets Bed.

Clot.

What's this?

Eu.

I deal not now on doubts; your wise is loose

Dishonest as the Suburbs, I am loth

[Page 33]

To nominate her Whore tho' it be true.

Clot.

True!—

amazedly.

Eu.

Leave this lethargiz'd passion, which benumbs

Your nobler nature; turn your eyes on these;

gives him the Letter.

Whose Character is this?

Clot.

Ha! let me see:

This is Aphelia's hand, the very same

Which I have often seen Clovis peruse

In his Loves amorous pursuit.

Eu.

Real the Contents.

Clot.

A Letter that she loves Landrey, with thanks

For his so often visits; which she repays

With the rich Jewel sent her by the King,

Wishing a perpetuity of embracements;

Ten thousand Ravens croak in this black paper,

How came you by it?

Eu.

I saw it drop from Landrey, but ne're thought

'Fore I perus'd it, what it did contain;

Which finding, in my duty I was bound

To save my Prince from ruine.

Clot.

Follow me

Black vengeance steel my heart with cruelty.

Exit.

I'le take her sleeping thus; it cannot be,

a Bed thrust forth with Aphelia in it, Enter Clot. again and the Eunuch.

Do but behold her face, and thou shalt read

What we call virtue there and modesty;

Here is a look would persuade cruelty

To sigh and shed a tear, bribe Nemesis

To knot her Steely Scourge with plumie down,

And Jove himself to call her vice a virtue.

Eu.

A book of Devils may have the cover gilt,

Treason lies cabben'd in the smoothest brow,

The Devil can assume an Angels form,

Your Wife is fair, but fair to do you harm.

Clot.

Peace Villain, thou that infects all peace.

Eu.

Why are you thus distemper'd? let not truth

Make you so wild a Tempest; were it false,

Or that I shought the ruine of your house

Your youth and honour, then it were a time

To swell beyond all charming down:

But being truth!

Clot.

Hence dog, avoid my sight,

Fly where the under-world, ill vers'd in kindred,

Promiscuously combine without distinction,

Where every man is every womans husband,

[Page 34]

Or where it's thought a curtesy to have,

A fellow-sharer in the marriage-bed:

These were a People that might bare with thee

And sit for thee to dwell with; hence, away,

And if thou lov'st thy life acquaint thy feet

With such by paths that we may never meet.

Exit.

Eu.

This Prince is of a nature milde and gentle,

His mother's milk's too fluent in his eyes,

And much I fear his resolution;

Yet I will work him forward; she awakes;

I'le after him and bring him back, if then

She scape his rage, Hell has no power with men.

Exit.

Aph.

Oh, oh, oh, help, help, my Lord, my Lord, my Father,

Oh my Lord.

Bless me Divinity, 'twas but a Dream;

Ha! the light gone, who waits there, Isabel, Julia, Isabel.

Enter Isabel.

Isab.

That was my Ladies voice; calls she for help?

I cannot blame her, were I in her place

I should do so my self; the Prince looks like a bungler.

Aph.

Isabel.

Isab.

Did you call Madam?

Aph.

Saw'st thou nothing Isabel? where is my Lord?

Isab.

Is he absent? I cannot blame her then to call for help;

I should do't my self; so near a good turn, and delay'd,

O it would mad me; a Prince, a Puppet would have

Been more manly; How do you Madam?

Aph.

All stands not well;

Isab.

I believe that faithfully.

Aph.

O Girl, I've past the dismal'st part of night

That ever made soft fancy fo [...]l.

Isab.

If all Brides should be so sool'd, I'de forswear Marriage.

Aph.

Methought I saw my Father in a Vault,

His silver hair made crimson by his bloud,

My Brother at his Herse upon his knees

Taking a solemn Oath for his revenge,

Yet all this while so fancy fool'd my sense

Methought that I was here, when on the instant

My Lord in preparation for my bed,

Was by an ugly Fiend ravisht from hence

And hurried to destruction, here I waked,

And trust me Isabel, I scarce believe

But what I saw was real. Heard'st thou nothing?

Isab.

I heard discourse of People in your chamber

[Page 35]

Not half an hour since: but they went forth

And to my seeming full of discontent,

But know not who they were.

Aph.

Oh it is true, help me Isabel,

I'le to my Fathers, my Prophetique soul

Sits like a Mine of Lead within me,

Come Girl.

Isab.

This sad fight

Besits a funeral, not a bridal night.

Exeunt.

SCENE. II.

Enter Clotaire and the Eunuch.

Clot.

Eunuch I'me resolved, I will be cruel

Since she's desil'd, and like a Chrystal Well

That has her spring poysoned by the enemy,

Of which it's death for the besieg'd to taste,

Such are adulterate waters. Castrato

What read'st thou in our brow?

Eu.

A foolish grudging of the mother still.

Clot.

A settled resolution my black Saint

Not to be alter'd by the brackish tears

Which flow in pregnant eyes of easy woman,

My honour calls for vengeance, and I'le do;

looks on the Bed.

Ha, how! she's gone, and I have lost mine anger too.

Eu.

But whither is she gone, to some new Groom,

Who being fool'd in expectation

Will make thee Cuckold on thy wedding night.

Clot.

Thou hast awaked me, I'le know where she is;

Hell nor her darker deeds shall hide her from me:

Who waites? La-key.

La.

My Lord.

Enter La-key.

Clot.

Where is thy Lady? where is Aphelia?

La.

She's even now gone forth.

Clot.

Forth! with whom?

La.

There was one with her, but whether man or woman

I am uncertain; but sure it was a man,

she would not dare to venture out so late else.

Exit La-key.

Clot.

Get to thy rest

I'le take thy word Eunuch for the Kingdoms wealth.

Eu.

[Page 36]

Oh d'ye begin to credit now,

Now when perhaps it is too late.

This comes of patience.

Clot.

Turn patience into fury, love to hate;

My softer temper to a heart of Steel;

Respect to Wedlock and the Sacred Vow

Made 'fore the Holy Alter to the Priest,

Thus I do fling ye off; Revenge shall move

About our Bridal-bed instead of Love.

Exeunt

SCENE III.

Enter Clovis, Strephon, and the Watch.

Clov.

Upon your lives let no man pass that way.

Watch.

We shall obey in all.

Clov.

If he resist or offer violence

In his escape, knock out his brains.

Watch.

We'le do our best my Lord.

Clov.

There's your reward, be carefull and be gone.

Ex. Watch.

You shall possess the Cave: my self will in

And visit these night-revellers, such sport

I will administer, shall make them dance

Lauolto's in the air; this shall Fiddle to them:

Have you the Habit Strephon?

Lam.

With these hands I did dis [...]robe the Statue of your Father.

And they are ready.

Clov.

Landrey, bloud does swell

The Monsieur's thoughts, to send thy soul to Hell.

Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

Enter Landrey solus. Musique above plays.

Lan.

The air's perfum'd, each room thro' which I walk

Baqu [...]s the [...] [...]s [...]s, courts the appetite

Hole open.

O [...] every la [...]l [...]y [...]hat makes up man

To complement [...] into Paradise:

If then Elysiun [...]'s h [...]e, where are those shades,

[Page 37]

Those blessed apparitions Poets feign?

Appear my goddess and out-sing the Poets.

Enter Fredegonde.

Reality of fancy, that exellest

The faint expression of a lazy tongue

Whose roof is hous'd with flesh, to tell thy worth,

Tongues tipt with Immortality would faint in't.

Qu.

Excellent servant, what House do you write to?

Poet and Actor both! why this sudden gaze?

he looks admiringly on her.

Your cases are too narrow for your eyes,

Pray keep your optiques Sir, for Venus service.

Lan.

No,

I'le play the Prodigal with my precious sight,

And spend all on you; to view your second

Were such a happiness, after tho which,

It were a sin to see more.

Qu.

Bless me Rablais!

And all ye foster fancies of the French,

What ails the man! my Landrey-Laureat?

Lan.

It is my Queen that's Laureat, whose blest sight

Creates a Poet; this divine feature

Heaven only fram'd to make men ingenuous.

Qu.

Is this Extempore? or have you hired

Some Hackney-Muse acquainted with the road

Of vulgar exorcisms, to charm sweet Beauties?

Take up at this speed, else your Muse will founder.

Lan.

Founder and have her foundress by! with patience

Hear but these poor expression of your worth,

Which faintly Paint forth your perfections,

And you shall bless my Muse.

Qu.

We'le hear your Jigg,

How is your Ballad Titled? come pronounce.

Lan.

From head to foot my Mistress been

Lan. rea [...],

Far excelling beauties Queen.

Had Jason but beheld her hair,

The Golden-Fleece had ne're seem'd fair.

Those Stars (which Mortals suppose eyes),

Were ascendant in the Skies:

When it fell to Venus lot

That little Cupid was begot.

Her tongue, (in which the Spheres do move

Organ of divinest Love)

Was by Apollo fram'd, that he

From: hence might learn more harmony.

Who notes her teeth, and lips, discoloses

[Page 38]

Walls of Pearl, and Gates of Roses,

Two-leaved-doors that lead the way

Through her breath t' Arabia;

To which would Cupid grant that bliss

I'de go a Pilgrimage to kiss

Those hills of Snow which on her breast

Rise swelling with a double Crest.

Mate Parnassus mountain, whence,

The Muses suck their Eloquence.

Those Parts which we will not discover,

He'l imagine that's a Lover.

Like Juno she does go,

Like Pailas talk, and sow,

Like Venus in her bliss,

Each kiss a Cupid is.

And her hands are as White as snow.

From head to foot &c.

Qu.

Leave these aerial viands, tast of what

Is here substantial; How like you the fruit?

kisses her.

Land.

Let me for ever dwell upon these lips;

Qu.

You are too greedy of those rarities;

And must be dieted, lest surfeting,

Your Appetite should sicken and so dye.

Lan.

Dye on your Lips, oh death-bed for a Jove

Whose buried here his grave's immortal Love.

Here will I dwell and know not age nor sorrow.

Qu.

Yet Childrick knew them both.

Lan.

A Frosty Prince

Begot on January by a Dutchman,

And worthy of those flames he now indures.

Qu.

What noise is this? guard me divinity.

Enter Clov. from under the Stage in the old Kings habit, Land. flys off, the Qu. swoons: he flings [...]ffkis habit & holds her up.

Clov.

What has my rashness done! she's my mother

My conscience tells me I was much too blame

Thus to delude her senses; she returns.

Qu.

Oh Childrick I confess 'twas I that kil'd thee,

These hands administred that fatal dram

Which set thy soud on wing.

Clov.

What do I hear?

Qu.

Oh do not snatch my soul from out the world

Till I have bath'd it in repenting tears

And made it fit for Heaven.

Clov.

She faints again.

Enter Strephon at the hole.

O Welcome Strephon, lend thy gentle hand

Which Master's Nature, and does life restore;

[Page 39]

Beyond the art of Esculapius,

Apply thy gentlest medicines.

Lam.

Let us withdraw, my life Sir answer hers if she miscarry.

Exeunt omnes.

SCENE V.

Enter the Watch.

1. Stand close, stand close, I heard a kind of bussling e're while.

2. Bussling, and they come this way here's that shall bussle them.

3. Peace, peace; he's drunk and will betray us all.

Enter Lan.

Lan.

I am betray'd, the Monsieur seeks my life,

All ways against my escape are sortify'd.

Oh cruel Fortune, Bawd to time and Fate

That soothest us up to make us ruinate.

Ha, what is here? great goddess pardon me,

he finds the habie and puts it on.

I have offended 'gainst thy deity.

This shall delude the Watch; thrice blessed hap

That thus deliverest whom they would intrap.

I will no stand, or I cannot stand, I say

they pull the drunken Watchman to be quiet.

I see a voice, d' [...]e think I'me drunk, what's

That horrid smell, what's that?

1.3.

Bless us oh bless; diabolo, diabolo, diabolo.

Exeunt.

The devil, what devil care I; keep off devil,

I say keep off; I do not fear thee: are you sneaking

Back, you cowardly rogue d'ye budge; I hate a cowardly

Devil as I hate a drunkard, take you that.

knooks him down.

Lan.

Oh, oh, oh.

Oh, oh; I'le warrant you I'le make you cry oh: what a devil

Made you in my way: I will now see what money you carry

About you: men say the Prince of darkness is a Gentleman;

By'r Lady he ha good cloaths on, but yet for all that

He may have no money.

Enter Clovis, Strephon, and the Queen. Strephon with his false Beard off.

Qu.

I know not where he is, or if I did,

Before I'de yield him up to thy revenge

I'de dye ten thousand deaths.

Clov.

[Page 40]

Strephon, Strephon,

For so I still must call thee, thou hast seen,

And heard those things delivered, that do splie

My heart in sunder, yet amongst these griefs

Which sit like Mines of Lead upon my soul

There is one corner of my heart that joys

Thy innocent bloud has scaped butchery.

Thou glorious light that in thine natural orb

Did'st comfortably shine upon this Kingdom,

How is thy worth eclypsed? what a dull darkness

Hangs about thy same? in all this piece

To every limb whereof I once paid duty,

I know not where to find my Mother.

Qu.

The devil and disobedience blinds your eyes.

Clov.

Oh that I had no eyes, so you no shame:

Murther your Husband to arrive at Lust,

And then to lay the guilt on innocents:

Blush, blush thou worse then Woman.

Qu.

Ha, ha, ha.

Clov.

Hold my heart,

You're impudent in sin, has your proud Page

Made you thus valiant? tell me where he is,

For if you dally with me, know this hand

Shall pull him from thy heart tho' cabbin'd there.

Qu.

How dar'st thou cloath thy speech in such a phrase

To me thy natural Mother?

Clov.

My Mother!

Adulterate woman, shame of Royalty

I blush to call thee Mother: thy foul Lusts

Have taught me words of that harsh consequence

That stigmatize obedience, and do brand

With mis becoming accents filial duty.

Deliver quickly where this Leacher is,

Here hous'd he must be, for he cannot 'scape,

Lest wildness conquering my safer sense

Thrust forth my hand into and act of horror,

And leave you breathless here. Will you disclose?

Qu.

What French Neronian Spirit have we here?

Insolent boy wilt thou turn Parracide?

Clov.

The Justice of my cause would well excuse me,

Is I should execute: speak Murtheress,

Where have you mew'd your Monster?

Here lies the Monster; O rare Monster; two beards, I'le pul

On this too that's certain, two heads O delicate dainty Monster.

[Page 41]

What a brave Monster shall I be, the Constable himself.

he in the Habit of Child. offers to steal by.

Cannot make a better Monster, I will steal by these, get

Me home, sell these gay cloaths, buy half a dram of Justice

And be a Monster of the Peace immediately.

Clov.

Will you confess, or—drop oh mine eye-balls out

And thou my sollid flesh dissolve to earth.

Lam.

How fares it with your Grace? Great Monsieur speak.

Clov.

Look there Lamot seest thou that horrid shape,

Which I unjustly did but now usurp;

Looks it not like the King, Lamot what say'st thou?

Shall I go kneel to't, call it honour'd Father,

And beg a pardon for my trespass done?

It would depart, but I will call it back:

Stay thou blest spirit, Royal father, thru,

Behold thy son, thy Clovis on his knees,

O pardon gentle spirit pardon me.

That's my good Boy, rise, but d'ye hear sirrah,

Put no more tricks nor gulls upon me; my son,

I have but one and he's three quarters rogue by this time;

He's e'n as like thee as over he can peep,

Bless my Boy, I like him n're the better for't

Clov.

What strange illusion's this? what art thou, speak,

Or I will nail thee dead against the wall.

Just such another Rogue have I to my son as this;

He has his very words too, thou art mine own,

I wonder where I got thee, canst not thou remember?

Lam.

Villain?

How cam'st thou by that babit? who ar't, speak?

Is it the Monsieur? I have made a brave hand on't then;

Lord, Lord, see how good cloaths makes us forget our selves:

My name is Potshot, my trade a Cobler,

One of the Constables Watch in extraordinary;

And if you will believe me Mr. Monsieur,

It went against my stomach very much,

That you should daro presume to call me father,

Oh, oh, oh, oh!

Colv.

Tell me how thou cam'st by those cloaths? I'le pardon thee.

Truly I came lawfully by them, for I stole them,

The devil and I fought 15 hours for them,

He broke my head a dozen times at least;

At l [...]st I maul'd the rascal, and he lies there.

Lam.

Behold my Lord, the Woodcock's in the gin,

Here lies the great Landrey.

Qu.

O horrid sin.

Clov.

[Page 42]

This habit might have ruin'd all, Lamot,

But Goblin now you're caught; what is he dead?

Lam.

Scarce hurt my Lord; how is it Sir, look up?

Is not the devil dead?

Clov.

Hold hold, you have done well.

Then whistle Jack-a-dandy.

Enter Eunuch hastily.

Eu.

Where is the Queen?

Qu.

Here Eunuch as thou seest in misery.

Eu.

On my heart, how came they hither? Lamot too?

Qu.

All that I know is that we are betray'd.

Eu.

I'le set them packing fear't nor; My good Lord

whispers with Clovis.

D'ye hear friend Lucifer, what Cat's your father?

How many lives have you got, ha diabolo?

Clov.

Thou art a faithfull servant.

Eu.

Sir, the Rebells.

Clov.

Give them a nobler title, by my life

I do applaud their courage, come they on?

Eu.

Yes, and Br [...]ssac is made their General.

Clov.

A hopefull Youth fraught with nobility,

And all the gracefull qualities that write.

Man truly honourable, mine injuries.

Have stirr'd him up to this.

Eu.

His father's dead.

Clov.

Trust me I'me sorry for't, grief has broke his heart.

And mine Castrato, too: can'st thou imagine

Who was the authors of our father's death?

Eu.

Am I betray'd, then, lend mo confidence,

I'me sure I cannot blush; Royal Sir, whom?

Clov.

Our Mother and Landrey, and this Lamot.

They meant should bear the blame: this was Strephon.

Eu.

It's wondrous strange, Would I were fairly off.

aside.

Clov.

But what news with Aphelia, and her Bridegroom?

Eu.

As you could wish, he's full of ielousy,

No Frenchman e're was more Italian,

I've wrought him bravely on, your Physick works;

Hither I've brought Aphelia too: tomorrow

You shall hear further; sport I'le warrant you.

What will you do with these?

Clov.

Castrato, thus:

Nature forbids me spill my Mothers bloud,

And Landrey is unfi [...] for my revenge,

For I must study torments for the slave,

Therefore I give them upto your tuition

Untill we shall return victorious.

Qu.

[Page 43]

Observe you that, there is some comfort yet.

aside to Lan

Clov.

Then we'le determine of them; if we fall

Let Clotaire point them out a funeral;

Reward this fellow largely with our Purse,

His merits are 2000 Crowns, perform it.

gives him a purse.

The Lord preserve my Son, I mean the Monsieur,

I truly did I, I was overjoy'd,

And knew not what I said, no truly Son.

If I can keep all this wealth without running mad,

Then Potshot may become an Alderman:

Drink I adore thee, drink good fellows all,

Sometimes we rise by drink, but oftner fall.

O me, what a rare thing it is to be a Monster.

Exit.

Clov.

A moral drunkard. Go away with them,

And on your life let them not stir from hence.

Exit Eu. Qu. and Lan.

Now my revenge grows to maturity,

We'le to Dumaine, Lamot, and joyn with him:

Now France, thou ly'st a bleeding, thou shalt prove

What 'tis to cross the Monsieur in his Love.

Exeunt omnes

ACT V.

SCENE I.

Drum. Enter Charles Brissac, Dumaine, Burbon, Lanone, Martel.

Dum.

For certain then the Princes are at odds.

Bris

Yes, and grounds the marriage of my Sister.

Burb.

The ulcerous State is ripe, and we must launce it.

Bris.

The King does whore my Sister; she's not his,

But true and Lawfully the Monsieurs Wife.

Dum.

Did not one Strephon wait upon the Prince?

Bris.

Yes, such there was, but little noids'd at Court.

Dum.

That was Lamot our fast and noble friend.

Burb.

I wonder that we hear not from him yet.

Lanoue.

There's some design on foot that hinders him.

a shout within.

Dum.

What means this noise? Martel step forth and see.

Bris.

The Monsieur! O death we are surpiz'd,

again, crying the Mons. the Monsieur, &c.

Suddenly snar'd, let each man to his charge,

Burb.

Heark still the noise encreaseth.

Lanoue.

By the sound

again.

[Page 44]

This is a shout of joy, and not of dread.

Enter Martel, Lamot, and Monsieur.

Bris.

What news Martel?

Mart.

You may inform your self.

Mon.

Brissac, Dumaine, Burbon, and the rest,

Think not I come a Traytor to your Camp,

I cannot gild my speech with eloquence,

If this will serve you, so; I am a friend.

Bris.

The Monsieur welcome, and his worth will grace

The dignity of this days work in hand.

Mon.

My almost Brother once, suffice, I thank you

And fairly greet this brave assembly,

Whose souls do look for stirring opposits,

When your resistance I fear will be slender.

Bris.

If we obtain a glorious victory,

Without a crimson tincture of the Field

it will be better: therefore I think it sit

We set upon them e're they be prepar'd,

Twill save much bloud on both sides.

Mon.

Be it so,

again the Monsiear within.

Let us reform the Land, not overthrow.

We will about it streight, lead on before.

Exeunt omnes.

SCENE II.

Enter Eunuch solus. He draws a Curtain where Landrey sits bound at one end of the Table, and the Queen at the other.

Eu.

Here sits our Beldam, dieted for venery:

And by her, her Landrey, not surfeited;

Her Ladyship's allow'd a mouldy crust,

He stinking water to piece out his life;

Between them both they banque [...] like one Slave

Condemned perpetually to the Burdello.

They think I know not that they thus are used,

When it is only I that use them this.

How wickedly they look, on I could laugh,

To hear them rail at other's misery.

He curses her, and she sooth curses him,

And both each other damn for their offences.

Learn ye that pamper up your flesh to Lust,

The Eunuch in his wickedness is Just.

[Page 45]

They sleep too long, and take too much of ease

I must awake ye, play and play aloud.

Hoboys within.

Qu.

A Mischief take the keeper, hardned dogg

Whom no distress can melt or molify,

The cruel King does not deny us sleep.

Eu.

Most gentle Queen,

I am not guilty of these harsh voiced words:

Your wilder sense hurles at me; you mistake.

I am your Eunuch one that weeps for you.

Qu.

Oh Castrato, wast not those tear, in vain,

Come hither and I'le catch those falling drops

Which prodigally overflow their banks,

There's nectar in thine eyes, oh let me drink it.

Eu.

Tho' I be tortur'd for't, I'le relieve ye.

Exit.

Qu.

It has quencht half my thirst to find some pitty,

Lan.

One bit of bread tho it were gray with age,

Hoary and crusted with a Second bark,

Would seem a Banquet to my empty Gorge.

Oh, I am worn to nothing with this want,

Such emptiness has hunger made of me

That you may draw me on another man.

Some bread, some bread.

Enter Eunuch with Wine and Meat, he Cong [...]es to the Quem with great Ceremony.

Qu.

Oh thou art welcome, quick dear Eunuch quick;

Away with form and ceremonious duty:

Respect in this is too respectless.

Eu.

Oh give me leave, I will begin a health,

[...]e sips.

'Tis very good, exceeding pleasant wine.

Qu.

Dost thou deride my sufferance?

Eu.

No not I.

Qu.

Give me the drink then, I'm all flame and fire.

Eu.

Say you so, say you so, then you must pardon;

I love your safety, and its dangerous

To drink while you are hot, pray cool and tarry.

In the mean time I will begin to you.

How tart and pleasant this is to the pallat,

A Sweeter Pheasant Christendom affords not.

Land.

I thank thee Eunuch, protheo give it me.

Eu.

You'l let me tast it for you, will you not?

Are you so hasty: still you are too hasty,

Gentle sir is will digest the better.

Land.

[Page 46]

More, more, that's excellent.

he unlooseth his arms a little that he might feed himself.

Eu.

Madam here's for you now.

Qu.

May heaven reward thee for't, oh it is rare.

Eu.

How do you like your banquet great Landrey?

Land.

Beyond compare.

Eu.

And you your drink.

Qu.

The Gods tast not the like.

Eu.

Ha, ha, ha, ye have both eat and drunk abominable poison,

Qu.

Ha?

Land.

How?

Eu.

'Tis true I tell you oracle,

There's not an hour's life between ye both,

The poyson's sure, I did prepare it for you;

And have my self taken an Antidote.

What say you to th'other bout now with Landrey?

I can procure another meeting for you,

Indeed I can; think you not whoredom sweet

Now you're a dying? is not your soul at ease?

The murther of your Husband's but a toy,

A f [...]a-biting, alack you feel it not.

Qu.

Oh Villain, Villain, Villain.

Land.

Inhumance slave, trecherous rascal.

Eu.

Goods bobes, are you at Liberty?

Land. goes from his Chair.

How got you loose? a knife too, hoyty toyty.

Land.

Faintness for want of food, I fear will trap me,

Yo'r very nimble Rascal;

Land. falls following the Eu. at a short turn, & being down, the Eu. gets upon him & disarms him.

Eu.

Oh Lord sir, you know the cause,

I'm lighter by a stone or two then then you,

Yet I am weight enough to keep you down;

Stir and thou dy'st, now sir what fay you to me?

How do you like your Princess? is she gamesome?

Did she apply her self like an apt whore

Unto your loose embraces?

Qu.

Dog, let him rise.

Eu.

Pardon me great Madam I beseech you.

Under your Graces favour be it spoken,

He is our cushion and I'le sit on him;

I do not altogether weigh a man.

As I live dead, prest to death without Stones;

Stark dead; a very strong-hearted Monsieur,

What say you to his Statue now in Ginger-bread?

It were a Monument too good for Landrey.

But sit thee there again: Once more to you,

sets him in the Chair again,

Who, if your Poyson do not work too fast,

[Page 47]

Shall see more sights like these before you dye,

Your Organ-pipe's already out of tune,

I'le leave ye a peeping-hole, thro' which you shall

leaves the Curtain half open.

See sights shall kill thee faster then thy poyson.

I am prepared now for Aphelia's death,

All things are ready, and behold the King;

Enter Clot. sadly.

Now for my part.

Clot.

I am too pityfull, a wat'ry flux

Which soft and tender-hearted men call tears

Stand on mine eyes, and does express a nature

Too like my barer, it is now with me

Full Tide in sorrow: my Cint [...]ia governs strongly;

What do the wise,

Castrato, call this moisture, which presumes

To mediate betwixt my wrath and me?

Eu.

Expressions of a weak and silly nature,

Passions of fools and women; are you a man

And bear so tame a soul, such a smock-spirit?

The Distaff owns more spleen, more noble anger:

Pray let her live untill the Pages write,

And hopping Ballatire's voice Rhimes upon you;

This will sound bravely, will it not?

Clot.

Bring her in.

Enter two leading Aph. in her pertticoat as to be tortur'd.

Aph.

Use not such violence good Gentlemen

I'le walk a Lamb to slaughter, not repine

At any torments ye shall put me to;

Only be modest; commend me to my Lord,

I doubt I never shall behold him more;

For by the Calculation of your looks

I have not long to live.

Clot.

Confess and turn thy fate, give me to know

With what foul Monster thou hast wrong'd thy soul,

Seam-rent that holy weed, Virginity:

And ease me of a load that bears more weight

Then what my youthfull sins have heap'd upon me.

Aph.

If ever.—

Clot.

No more of that, it tends to madness:

I'le force it from thee, bring forth the tortures there,

a pan of co [...]ls and searing-Irons.

I'le try if in these fiery instruments

There lies a tongue which better can persuade

Confession from thee, these red hot, apply'd

Unto thy breasts, shall there extract

All future hope to suckle lawless Issue;

The poysonous springs which from these hills arise

[Page 48]

Shall have their fountain head damn'd up by these.

Aph.

I've heard you sweat that you were poor in words,

And knew not to express the happiness

Which you conceiv'd was habitable here:

How much my Lord is alter'd from himself!

Clot.

'Tis thou art alter'd: True, Aphelia,

That whil'st thy purer thoughts did awe thy will

I lov'd like an Idolater; I was possest

That these two twins, these globes of flesh, contain'd

All that was happy both in earth and heaven;

In this I could descry the milky way,

The Maiden Zone that girds the waste of heaven;

In this the seat of Paradise, and how

The wanton rivolets play'd about the Isle

Which puzzles Geography: All this I could

In thee my sometime chast Aphelia

Find and rejoyce in, but thou art now

An undrest Wilderness, wherein I walk,

Losing my self'mongst multitudes of beasts

And salvage actions: come dispatch.

Aph.

Sir—

Clot.

I'le hear no more.

Aph.

Heaven will then,

And tho' it be an ear far distant hence,

Both hear and pity me: Oh my lov'd Lord,

Should but a dream work on my fancy

That you were thus to suffer as I am,

It would conspire to kill me with more speed

Then these your threatning Ministers, alas!

I'do force a gentler nature in the Steel,

And with my rainy eyes weep out the heat,

Which as it dyes should hiss it self to scorn,

For offering to contain but sire to hurt you;

And will you then, a bold spectator stand,

Smiling at what I suffer? Shed but one tear,

Or counterfeit a sorrow for my sake,

A little seeming woe, and I shall dye,

Sick of your kindness, not your cruelty.

Clot.

Oh my soft temper, her sweet harmony

Will melt me into fool.

Eu.

Oh this is brave,

A whining Cuckold.

Clot.

Whore, will you confess?

Speak or I'le break thy heart.

Aph.

[Page 49]

My gentle Lord.

Clot.

Ungentle whore thou lyest, I am not gentle,

Thou canst not catch me more with oyly sounds,

Speak swiftly to my words, whose whore art thou?

Aph.

My gracious Prince, I dare not call you husband,

Your actions do forbid, which write me slave

And not your equal: if to be your wife

Has plucked this misery upon my head,

Or caused in you this phrensie, put me off;

I will indure it patiently; but if e're—

Clot.

The old tune this, come come the Irons there.

they sear one of her brests.

Aph.

Oh, oh, oh, cruel my Lord, unmanly,

I'le not blaspheme, no nor think ill of Heaven;

Altho' my injuries would half persuade,

Gods are not, or are deaf to Innocents.

Drum. Enter a Messenger hastily.

1. Mes.

Arm, arm my Lord, the Castle's wall'd about

With living Clay, three times ten thousand men.

Approved Warriors, souls of Blood afire,

That only know to do, and not to suffer,

Make head against you; believe me sir,

A braver troop, and spirits more resolved,

Life never put in action.

Enter another Messenger.

2 Mes.

Fly, fly my Lord.

Clot.

Villain it is no Language for a Prince.

2 Mes.

Then stand upon your Guard, yet that's as bad,

Drum.

The Castle-walls are made of walking Steel,

And you but tempt your death in your escape

If you stay here provok't.

The Monsieur like the god of war bestrides

A bounding Courser, who is therefore proud

To be so backed as knowing whom she bears.

So Centaur-like he's anchored to his seat

As if he had twin'd with the proud Beast he rides on,

And were incorporate with the Steed that bears him;

He grows unto his Saddle all one piece

And that unto his Horse, who thus unmov'd

Sits like a Perseus on his Pegassus

Stable and fleet.

Clot.

Is he joyn'd with them too?

Then doomsday is at hand, I see my ruine,

Go to the Castle-walls, and Summon them

To render an account of their intents,

[Page 50]

Away I say be gone: Cone hither Eunuch,

Look here's a Pislol, in whose womb lies doath,

A heavy leaden sheep.

Eu.

Would you I should

Try the conclusion here? make her confess

By other instruments her horrid guilt?

In this there's too much mercy.

Clot.

Her me speak,

I'le trouble her no further, let her sin

Be punisht from above, I'le wait heavens leisure:

Here Eunuch take thou this, it was prepar'd

For the adulterate Landrey; here receive it,

And if thou lovest me, use it upon me;

Come shoo [...] me thro', I know I shall be slain,

If not by thee, yet by the enemy;

And therefore to prevent the bitter scorn

Of the insulting foe, which is a death

So full of horror to the conquered;

No tyranny is like it, use this handfull,

The wholsomest weed that nature can produce

In the large store-house of her providence

Can shew no simple like it, for this cures

At once the sickness of the mind and body.

Thou shalt; I know thou wil [...], I prethee take't,

It is not murder (tender hearted fool)

That thou committest, rather a sacrifice,

For which heaven will reward thee.

Eu.

I ne're was liker to express my self

Then at this minute; do not betray me tears;

The Eunuchs nature must be harsh and cruel;

Tho' I do undertake this deed,

Bear witness heaven it is against my will.

takes the Pistol.

Aph.

O spare him Eunuch, spare, save my Lord.

Eu.

Peace foolish woman, 'tis thou killest thy Lord.

Were't not for thee he might live long and happy;

Pray let me kiss your hand, and take my leave

Of my best, best Master.

Clot.

Do't and be sudden then—ha, what means this?

he whips away Clotairs Sword.

Eu.

Marry Sir this it means,

That if this fail this shall perform the deed,

Think not but I will kill you, do not fear,

I am the excelent'st alive at these toys,

[Page 51]

Look here my cousened fool I do not bungle.

Clot.

Are these dead then?

Eu.

As sure as you live, pray ask them else,

Unless this Eves flesh, too intense in heat,

Be lingring still behind: she's scarcely dead,

But in her dying cars I'le howl this noise:

Look Queen, here's the top-branch of all thy family,

Mark but how kindly for thy sake I'le use him.

Clot.

Then I perceive I have been much abus'd,

So has my dearest Lady, oh, my heart.

Eu.

Oh do you so? do you so?

Qu.

Oh oh oh!

Eu.

There broke a Strumpets heart.

Clot.

How fain would I preserve my self from death

Since my Aphelia's chast, to think her false,

Not that I fear'd the soe, made me despair

Of furture comfort: Eunuch spare my life,

I will forgive thee, and reward thee too:

Remember who it is that sues to thee.

Eu.

In that remembrance I have lost my self:

I cannot strike him, my relenting heart

Erns on his Princely person; take your Sword,

But on condition Clotaire; thou shalt swear

By thy descen [...], thy Princely Parentage,

By the wrong'd souls of all those Innocents,

By thy Lust sacrific [...]d, by Aphelia's self,

Or any thing the soul shall hold more dear,

Upon receipt to guide the fat [...]l point

Directly to my heart: My time is short,

a Drum beats within.

Quickly dispatch, resolve to do or dye,

And what shall grieve thee more then all the rest,

Aphelia shall bear thee company.

Clot.

To save her life I'le undertake this deed.

Eu.

I'le teach thee to the speedy in the fact:

Remember how thy noble Father dy'd,

Into thy bosom cast thine in ward eyes,

And view what sorrows I have heaped on thee;

Behold thy Mother murthered by this hand,

Look on this Innocent, and let her wrongs

Prompt thy slow hand to this most timely slaughter;

I cannot brook delay.

Clot.

Take thy reward.

[Page 52]

A Heathen and a Traytor dye with thee.

Eu.

A Christian Heathen Clotaire if thou wilt,

Made so by thee, read that and break thy heart.

stings him a note, he stands amazed.

Clovis.

Force ope the dore,

Enter the Army.

Seize on his Royal Person, now Clotaire

Thou art the Monsieur's pris'ner, Tyrant say

Where is Aphelia your Adulteress?

Bris.

O my dear Sifter.

Clov.

O most horrid sight; my mother & Landr [...]y both murthered.

Dum.

Here lies that Villain Eunuch: Hell hound up:

Wnose hauds have slain thy Mistress?

Eu.

No [...]e of mine.

They'r near ally'd to thee that did this deed,

Ch [...]o [...]ilda and a woman.

Dum.

Villain thou ly'st my sister's gone a weary pilgrimago

And for this twice five years (With grief I speak ti)

Been wandring none knows where.

Clot.

What am I?

What strange and uncouth thing?

Eu.

A Ravisher;

Aud better to inftruct thee in thy self

Had not Corotilda been incestuous.

the King offers to kill himself.

[...]um.

Hold hold your. Royal hand, what will

You do?

Clot.

What else but follow her? shall Clotaire live

A Capt in to his Brother, slaved in sin,

Inthral'd in wedlock, that's incestuous?

A Ravisher, and Murtherer of his friend,

There's no way left to rid me but my Sword

Or all these ills at once. Oh my Chrotilda:

falls upon the Eir. weeping.

Dum.

My Sister?

Clot.

Ay Dumain: no Eunuch she,

No Sun-burnt vagabond of Aetiope

Tho' entertain'd for such by Fred [...]gond [...];

I say here lyes thy ravisht sister, slain

By me the Ravisher.

Dum.

Hold, hold my heart.

Eu.

I forgive thee Clotaire; freely forgive thee

And let Aphelia do the like to me:

I bare to her no maliçe; only this,

I would not have her to enjoy the man

That had so near relation unto me.

Clov.

[Page 53]

This writes thee perfect [...].

Eu.

Lend me thy hand Clotaire h [...]ve I thy hand;

I should have kill'd thee King, and had put on

A masculine spirit to perform the deed:

Alas how frail our resolutions are,

A Woman's weakness conquer'd my revenge,

I'd Power enough to quit my parents wrongs:

And they which should have seen me act my part,

Would not believe I should so soon prove Haggard:

But there is something dwells upon thy brow

that did persuade me to Humanity:

Thou Injurest me, and yet I spar'd thy life,

Thou injurest me, yet I would dye by thee;

And like to my lost sex, I fall and Perish.

she dyes,

Clot.

Speak for ever, speak Chrotilda.

Dum.

Farewell great Heart,

My sister's in mine eyes, this brave revenge

Should have been mine, and not thine act, Chrotilda,

Away salt Rhume, Chrotilda laughs at thee,

Her spirit was more manly.

Aph.

I must weep too,

Her injuries and mine are so near kin,

That they must bare each other Company

In tears of blond and death. Brother I faint,

And my griev'd heart too long with death opprest,

Would gladly seek a way to find out rest.

Clot.

Art thou joyn'd with her too, against thy self?

Will my Aphelia leave me?

Aph.

For ever King,

The hand of heaven lyes on me: for I feel

My inward and external injuries

Wrestle with life, in which Contention

My soul is worried by that tyrant death,

I must forsake thee Clotaire.

Clot.

Stay a while,

It is unkindly done to leave me thus:

Oh she is gone, for ever, ever gone,

she dyes.

And I stand prating here between them both,

The fatal cause of death unto them both.

Wilt thou not break proud heart, I prethee break,

Prove not a Rebell to thy Prince like these!

It's well there is some Loyalty in thee yet,

he falls into a Chair betwixt them both

Thou art commanded by me:

Bris.

[Page 54]

Gratious Leige.

Clot.

Charles I have injur'd thee, and thee Dumaine,

Can ye forgive me.

Dum.

Good your grace

Call back your spirits, think what's to be done.

Clot.

I consider well; and the great King

The quondam Monsieur, shall not deny me this:

Half of the Honours of the dead Landrey

We do conser on thee; the other half

Be thi [...]e Dumaine, Charles shall be Duke of France,

Thou of the Pallace Major: this is our will.

Dum.

Great King you are not so near your death.

Lam.

Forfende it heaven.

Mons.

Look up thy gracious Brother.

Clot.

I begin to faint,

A Darkness like to death hangs on mine eyes:

Give me thy hand Brissac, and thine Dumaine.

Good Gentle souls, when ye shall mention me,

And Elder time shall rip these actions up,

Dissected and anotomized by you,

Touch sparingly this story, do not read

T [...]o harsh a comment on this loathed deed,

Lest you inforce posterity to blast

My name and memory with endless curses:

Call me a honourable murtherer:

And finish there as I do.

he dyes

Dum.

O Noble Prince

Whose fame was ver [...] essence to his soul,

That gone, the other fled: chusing to dye

Rather then live a Prince [...]nfamy.

Mons.

A heavy spectacle of grief and wot,

Have we beheld since our arrival here;

Take up the body of the King, and these,

Which for his sake on either hand lye slain,

They shall be buried in one monument:

And take up these: this was a Royal Queen

When virtue steer'd her thoughts, but we may see,

When we turn foes to good, to vice a friend,

a dead March & Recorders.

We sall like these, and like these, thus we end.

Exeunt Omnes.

FINIS.

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