PHIL. Nay, nay, I will, in spite of destiny.

Let women and faint-hearted fools complain

In languishing despair; a manly love

Dares show itself, and press to his desires

Through thickest troops of horrid[423] opposites.

Were there a thousand waking dragons set

To keep that golden fruit, I would attempt

To pluck and taste it; 'tis the danger crowns

A brave achievement! What if I should go

And boldly woo her in her father's house

In spite of enmity, what could they say?

CLER. 'Twere madness that, not wisdom: rash attempts

Betray the means, but never work the end.

PHIL. She would not hate a man for loving her;

Or if she did, better be once denied

Than live for ever hapless.

CLER. But take time;

The second thoughts, our wise men say, are best.

PHIL. Delay's a double death; no, I have thought

A means that straight I'll put in execution:

I'll write a letter to her presently,

Take how it will.

CLER. A letter! who shall carry it?

PHIL. I'll tell thee when I have done: hast thou pen and ink in thy

chamber?

CLER. Yes, there is one upon the table. I'll stay here at the window,

and watch whether she stay or not. What a sudden change is this!

LEU. Did not Count Virro promise to be here

To-day at dinner?

PSEC. Yes, madam, that he did; and I dare swear

He will not break.

LEU. He needs not, he is rich enough; unless he should break in knavery,

as some of our merchants do nowadays.

PSEC. Break promise, madam, I mean; and that he will not for your sake:

you know his business.

LEU. I would I did not: he might spare his pains,

And that unusual cost that he bestows

In pranking up himself, and please me better.

PSEC. He would not please his tailor and his barber;

For they got more for your sake by their lord

Than they have got this twenty years before.

LEU. Ah, Psectas, Psectas! can my father think

That I can love Count Virro? one so old--

That were enough to make a match unfit--

But one so base; a man that never lov'd

For anything call'd good, but dross and pelf.

One that would never, had my brother liv'd,

Have mov'd this suit: no, I can never love him:

But canst thou keep a secret firmly, Psectas?

PSEC. Doubt me not, madam.

LEU. Well, I'll tell thee then.

I love--alas! I dare not say I love him--

But there's a young and noble gentleman,

Lord Euphues' son, my father's enemy,

A man whom Nature's prodigality

Stretch'd even to envy in the making up.

Once from a window my pleas'd eye beheld

This youthful gallant as he rode the street

On a curvetting courser who, it seem'd

Knew his fair load, and with a proud disdain

Check'd the base earth: my father being by,

I ask'd his name; he told me Philocles,

The son and heir of his great enemy.

Judge, Psectas, then, how my divided breast

Suffer'd between two meeting contraries,

Hatred and love: but Love's a deity,

And must prevail 'gainst mortals, whose command

Not Jove himself could ever yet withstand.

CLER. What, is the letter done already? I see these lovers have nimble

inventions; but how will you send it?

PHIL. What a question's that! Seest thou this stone?

CLER. Ah! then I see your drift; this stone must guide

Your fleeting letter in the air, and carry it

To that fair mark you aim.

PHIL. Hard by her.

CLER. I think you would not hit her with such stones as this; lady, look

to yourself, now it comes to proof.

PHIL. But prythee, tell me, what dost thou think this letter may do?

CLER. Well, I hope.

'Tis ten to one this lady oft hath seen you,

You never liv'd obscure in Syracuse,

Nor walk'd the streets unknown, and who can tell

What place you bear in her affections,

Lov'd or mislik'd? If bad, this letter sent

Will make her show her scorn: if otherwise,

Fear not a woman's wit: she'll find a time

To answer your kind letter, and express

What you desire she should; then send it boldly,

You have a fair mark there.

PHIL. Cupid, guide my arm!

O, be as just, blind god, as thou art great!

And with that powerful hand, that golden shaft

This eye was[424] wounded, wound yon tender breast!

There is no salve but that, no cure for me. [_Throws._

CLER. See, what a wonder it strikes 'em in, how it should come.

PHIL. She'll wonder more to see what man it comes from.

CLER. I like her well, she is not afraid to open it. She starts; stay,

mark her action when she has read the letter.

_She reads._

"Let it not wrong this letter, that it came

From one that trembled to subscribe his name,

Fearing your hate: O, let not hate descend,

Nor make you cruel to so vow'd a friend.

If you'll not promise love, grant but access,

And let me know my woes are past redress.

Be just, then, beauteous judge, and, like the laws,

Condemn me not till you have heard my cause;

Which, when you have, from those fair lips return

Either my life in love, or death in scorn.

Yours or not, PHILOCLES."

Am I awake, or dream I? Is it true,

Or does my flattering fancy but suggest

What I most covet?

PSEC. Madam, the words are there;

I'll swear it can be no illusion.

LEU. It is too good for truth.

PHIL. Mock me not, fortune!

She kiss'd it; saw'st thou her? O friend, she kiss'd it!

CLER. And with a look that relish'd love, not scorn.

LEU. This letter may be forg'd, I much desire

To know the certainty; Psectas, thy help

Must further me.

PSEC. I'll not be wanting.

LEU. Here comes my father; he must not see this.

PSEC. No, nor your t'other sweetheart, he is with him yonder.

_Enter_ POLYMETES, VIRRO, ROSCIO.

POL. Nay, noble count, you are too old a soldier

To take a maid's first no for a denial;

They will be nice at first: men must pursue

That will obtain: woo her, my lord, and take her;

You have my free consent, if you get hers.

Yonder she walks alone: go comfort her.

VIR. I'll do the best I may, but we old men

Are but cold comfort: I thank your lordship's love.

POL. I wonder, Roscio, that the peevish girl

Comes on so slowly; no persuasions

That I can use do move: the setting forth

Count Virro's greatness, wealth, and dignity,

Seems not to affect her, Roscio.

ROS. I doubt the cause, my lord;

For were 't but[425] that, I dare engage my life

She would be won to love him; she has plac'd

Already her affections on some other.

POL. How should I find it out?

Ros. Why thus, my lord.

There's never man nor woman that e'er lov'd,

But chose some bosom friend, whose close converse

Sweeten'd their joys, and eas'd their burden'd minds

Of such a working secret. Thus, no doubt,

Has my young lady done; and but her woman,

Who should it be? 'tis she must out with it:

Her secrecy, if wit cannot o'erreach,

Gold shall corrupt; leave that to me, my lord.

But if her lady's heart do yet stand free

And unbequeath'd to any, your command

And father's jurisdiction interpos'd

Will make her love the count. No kind of means

Must want to draw her.

POL. Thou art my oracle,

My brain, my soul, my very being, Roscio;

Walk on and speed, while I but second thee.

CLER. It is even so; Count Virro is your rival;

See how th' old ape smugs up his mouldy chaps

To seize the bit?

PHIL. He must not, if I live;

But yet her father brings him: he has the means

That I shall ever want.

CLER. If he do marry her,

Revenge it nobly, make him a cuckold, boy.

PHIL. Thou jest'st, that feel'st it not. Prythee, let's go.

CLER. Stay, I'll but curse him briefly for thy sake.

If thou dost marry her, may'st thou be made

A cuckold without profit, and ne'er get

An office by it, nor favour at the Court;

But may thy large ill-gotten treasury

Be spent in her bought lust, and thine own gold

Bring thee adulterers; so, farewell, good count.

[_Exeunt_ PHILOCLES _and_ CLERIMONT.

_Enter_ SERVANT.

SER. My lord, there's a messenger within

Desires access, has business of import,

Which to no ear but yours he must impart.

_Enter_ EUGENIO, _disguised_.

POL. Admit him. Now, friend, your business with me.

SER. If you be the Lord Polymetes.

POL. The same.

EUG. My lord, I come from Athens with such news

As I daresay is welcome, though unlook'd for;

Your son Eugenio lives, whom you so long

Thought dead, and mourn'd for.

POL. How? lives!

EUG. Upon my life, my lord, I saw him well

Within these few days.

POL. Thanks for thy good news.

Reward him, Roscio. But now, tell me, friend,

Hast thou reveal'd this news to any man

In Syracuse but me?

EUG. To none, my lord:

At every place where I have stay'd in town,

Inquiring for your lordship's house, I heard

These tragic, but false, news; the contrary

I still conceal'd, though knew, intending first

Your lordship's ear should drink it.

POL. Worthy friend,

I now must thank your wisdom as your love,

In this well-carried action; I'll requite it:

Meantime, pray use my house, and still continue

Your silence in this business. Roscio, make him welcome,

And part as little from him as you can, for fear----

ROS. Think it done, my lord.

POL. Leucothoë,[426] come hither.

VIR. Be like yourself, let not a cruel doom

Pass those fair lips, that never were ordain'd

To kill, but to revive.

LEU. Neither, my lord, lies in their power to do.

VIR. Yes, sweet, to me,

Whom your scorn kills, and pity will revive.

LEU. Pity is show'd to men in misery.

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

LEU. 'Twere pride in me, my lord, to think it so.

VIR. I am your beauty's captive.

LEU. Then, my lord,

What greater gift than freedom can I give?

'Tis that that captives most desire, and that

You shall command: y' are free from me, my lord.

VIR. Your beauty contradicts that freedom, lady.

POL. Come, noble count, I must for this time interrupt you; you'll find

enough within to talk.

VIR. I'll wait upon your lordship. [_Exeunt._

_Manet_ EUGENIO _solus_.

EUG. Thus in disguise I have discover'd all,

And found the cause of my reported death,

Which did at first amaze me; but 'tis well:

'Tis to draw on the match between my sister

And this rich count: heaven grant it be content

As well as fortune to her, but I fear

She cannot love his age: how it succeeds

I shall perceive, and, whilst unknown I stay,

I cannot hurt the project, help I may. [_Exit._

_Enter_ FRANCISCO, SUMNER.[427]

FRANC. This will make good work for you in the spiritual court; Shallow

is a rich man.

SUM. Those are the men we look for; there's somewhat to be got: the

court has many businesses at this time, but they are little worth; a few

waiting-women got with child by servingmen or so, scarce worth citing.

FRANC. Do not their masters get 'em with child sometimes?

SUM. Yes, no doubt; but they have got a trick to put 'em off upon the

men, and for a little portion save their own credits; besides, these

private marriages are much out of our way, we cannot know when there is

a fault.

FRANC. Well, these are no starters; I warrant you, Shallow shall not

deny it; and for the wench, she need not confess it, she has a mark

that will betray her.

SUM. I thank you, sir, for your good intelligence, I hope 'tis certain.

FRANC. Fear not that. Is your citation ready?

SUM. I have it here.

FRANC. Well, step aside, and come when I call; I hear 'em coming.

[_Exit_ SUMNER.

_Enter_ FRANKLIN, SHALLOW, LUCE, PARSON.

FRANK. Set forward there. Francisco, what make you here?

FRANC. I come to claim my right: parson, take heed.

Thou art the author of adultery,

If thou conjoin this couple; she's my wife.

FRANK. Yours, saucebox?

SHAL. Father, I thought she had been mine; I hope

I shall not lose her thus.

FRANK. Francisco,

Dare not to interrupt us, for I swear

Thou shalt endure the law's extremity

For thy presumption.

FRANC. Do your worst, I fear not; I was contracted to her.

FRANK. What witness have you?

FRAN. Heaven is my witness, whose impartial eye

Saw our contract.

SHAL. What an ass is this to talk of contracting! He that will get a

wench must make her bigger, as I have done, and not contract.

FRANC. Sir, you are abus'd.

SHAL. Why so?

FRANC. The wife you go to marry is with child,

And by another.

SHAL. A good jest, i' faith! make me believe that!

FRANC. How comes this fool possess'd? he never touch'd her,

I dare swear.

FRANK. No more, Francisco, as you will answer it.

Parson, set forward there.

FRANC. Stay.

If this will not suffice, Sumner, come forth.

FRANK. A sumner! we are all betray'd.

_Enter_ SUMNER.

SUM. God save you all! I think you guess my business;

These are to cite to the spiritual court

You, Master Shallow, and you, Mistress Luce!

Ask not the cause, for 'tis apparent here,

A carnal copulation _ante matrimonium_.

FRANK. This was a bar unlook'd for. Spiteful Francisco!

FRANC. Injurious Franklin, could the laws divine

Or humane suffer such an impious act,

That thou shouldst take my true and lawful wife,

And great with child by me, to give to another,

Gulling his poor simplicity?

SHAL. Do you mean me, sir?

SUM. Gallants, farewell; my writ shall be obey'd?

FRANK. Sumner, it shall. [_Exit_ SUMNER.

PAR. I'll take my leave, there's nothing now for me to do.

[_Exit_ PARSON.

FRANC. Farewell, good master parson.

FRANK. Francisco,

Canst thou say thou ever lov'dst my daughter,

And wouldst thou thus disgrace her openly?

FRANC. No, I would win her thus;

And, did you hold her credit half so dear

As I, or her content, you would not thus

Take her from me, and thrust her 'gainst her will

On this rich fool.

SHAL. You are very bold with me, sir.

FRANC. Let me have news what happens, dearest Luce.

LUCE. Else let me die. [_Exit_ FRANCISCO.

FRANK. This was your doing, Luce; it had been impossible he should e'er

have known the time so truly else; but I'll take an order next time for

your blabbing.

SHAL. What's the matter, father?

FRANK. We may thank you for it; this was your haste, that will now shame

us all; you must be doing afore your time!

SHAL. 'Twas but a trick of youth, father.

FRANK. And therefore now you must e'en stand in a white sheet for all to

gaze at.

SHAL. How! I would be loth to wear a surplice now. 'Tis a disgrace the

house of the Shallows never knew.

FRANK. All the hope is, officers may be bribed; and so they will. 'Twere

a hard world for us to live in else.

SHAL. You say true, father; if 'twere not for corruption, every poor

rascal might have justice as well as one of us, and that were a shame.

[_Exeunt_ SHALLOW _and_ LUCE.

FRANK. This was a cunning stratagem well-laid;

But yet, Francisco, th' hast not won the prize.

What should I do? I must not let this cause

Proceed to trial in the open court,

For then my daughter's oath will cast the child

Upon Francisco: no, I have found a better.

I will before the next court-day provide

Some needy parson, one whose poverty

Shall make him fear no canons; he shall marry

My daughter to rich Shallow: when 'tis done,

Our gold shall make a silence in the court. [_Exit._

_Enter_ PHILOCLES, PSECTAS.

PSEC. I must return your answer to my lady;

I'll tell her you will come.

PHIL. Come!

And such an angel call, I should forget

All offices of nature, all that men

Wish in their second thoughts, ere such a duty.

Commend my service to her, and to you

My thanks for this kind message. [_Exit_ PSECTAS.

I never breath'd till now, never till now

Did my life relish sweetness. Break not, heart!

Crack not, ye feeble ministers of nature:

With inundation of such swelling joy,

Too great to bear without expression.

The lady writes that she has known me long

By sight, and lov'd me; and she seems to thank

Her stars she loves and is belov'd again.

She speaks my very thoughts! How strange it is

And happy, when affections thus can meet!

She further writes, at such an hour to-day

Her father's absence, and all household spies

Fitly remov'd, shall give access to me

Unmark'd to visit her; where she alone

Will entertain discourse, and welcome me.

I hope 'tis truly meant; why should I fear?

But wisdom bids me fear: fie, fie! 'tis base

To wrong a creature of that excellence'

With such suspicion; I should injure her.

I will as soon suspect an angel false;

Treason ne'er lodg'd within so fair a breast.

No, if her hand betray me, I will run

On any danger: 'tis alike to me

To die or find her false; for on her truth

Hangs my chief being. Well, I'll lose no time,

No, not a minute: dearest love, I come!

To meet my sweetest wishes I will fly,

Heaven and my truth shield me from treachery. [_Exit._

FOOTNOTES:

[421] The original edition reads _sick_, which Mr Reed changed to

_fickle_.--_Collier._

[422] [Portrait, likeness.]

[423] [Bristling; Lat. _horridus_.]

[424] [Old copy, _That I was_.]

[425] [Old copy, were _not_.]

[426] [Old copy, _Psectas_.]

[427] Or _Sompner_, now called an _apparitor_. He is an officer, whose

proper business and employment are to attend the spiritual court, to

receive such commands as the judge shall please to issue forth; to

convene and cite the defendants into court; to admonish or cite the

parties in the production of witnesses, and the like; and to make due

return of the process by him executed.

ACT III.

_Enter_ POLYMETES, ROSCIO, EUGENIO, _and_ PSECTAS.

POL. I cannot credit it, nor think that she,

Of all the noble youth of Sicily,

Should make so strange a choice; that none but he,

None but the son of my vow'd enemy,

Must be her mate: it strikes me to amaze.

Minion, take heed, do not belie your mistress.

PSEC. Mercy forsake me if I do, my lord:

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

Which I have fully done; and presently

I'll bring you where (conceal'd) you shall both see

Their privacy, and hear their conference.

POL. Well, I believe thee, wench, and will reward

Thy trust[428] in this: go, get thee in again,

And bring me word when Philocles is come, [_Exit_ PSECTAS.

Sir, you'll be secret to our purpose?

EUG. As your own breast, my lord?

POL. I shall rest thankful to you:

This stranger must be sooth'd, lest he mar all.

ROS. This was well found out, my lord: you now have means to take your

enemy.

POL. Which bless'd occasion I will so pursue,

As childless Euphues shall for ever rue.

Rise in thy blackest look, direst Nemesis,

Assistant to my purpose, help me glut

My thirsty soul with blood! This bold young man

To his rash love shall sacrifice his life.

ROS. What course do you intend to ruin him?

POL. Why, kill him presently.

ROS. O no, my lord,

You'll rue that action: think not that the law

Will let such murder sleep unpunish'd.

POL. Should I then let him go, when I have caught him?

ROS. Yes, sir; to catch him faster, and more safely.

POL. How should that be? Speak, man.

ROS. Why thus, my lord?

You know the law speaks death to any man

That steals an heir without her friend's consent:

Thus must he do, his love will prompt him to it.

For he can never hope by your consent

To marry her; and she, 'tis like, will give

Consent, for women's love is violent:

Then mark their passage, you shall easily find

How to surprise them at your will, my lord.

POL. Thou art my oracle, dear Roscio.

_Enter_ PSECTAS.

Here's Psectas come again. How now, what news?

PSEC. My lord, they both are coming; please you withdraw,

You shall both hear and see what you desire.

_Enter_ PHILOCLES _and_ LEUCOTHOË.

LEU. Y' are welcome, noble sir; and, did my power

Answer my love, your visitation

Should be more free, and your deserved welcome

Express'd in better fashion.

PHIL. Best of ladies,

It is so well, so excellently well,

Coming from your wish'd love, my barren thanks,

Want language for't! there lies in your fair looks

More entertainment than in all the pomp

That the vain Persian ever taught the world.

Your presence is the welcome I expected,

That makes it perfect.

LEU. 'Tis your noble thought

Makes good what's wanting here; but, gentle friend--

For so I now dare call you.

POL. 'Tis well, minion; you are bold enough, I see,

To choose your friends without my leave. [_Aside._

PHIL. 'Tis my ambition ever to be yours.

LEU. Think me not light, dear Philocles, so soon

To grant thee love, that others might have sought

With eagerest pursuit, and not obtain'd.

But I was yours by fate, and long have been:

Before you woo'd, Leucothoë was won,

And yours without resistance.

PHIL. O my stars!

'Twas your kind influence that, whilst I slept

In dullest ignorance, contriv'd for me

The way to crown me with felicity.

POL. You may be deceived, though; you have no such great reason to thank

your stars, if you knew all. [_Aside._

PHIL. And know, fair mistress, you have met a love,

That time, nor fate, nor death can ever change;

A man that but in you can have no being.

Let this kiss seal my faith.

LEU. And this mine.

POL. Nay, to't again; your sweet meat shall have sour sauce.

PHIL. But, sweet, 'mongst all these roses there's one thorn

That pricks and galls me; our parents' enmity

Will cross our loves. I do assure myself

Thy father never will give his consent.

LEU. No, so I think; he moves me still to Virro,

That old craz'd count, and with such vehemency,

I dare scarce 'bide his presence, if I deny him;

Therefore we must be speedy in our course,

And take without his leave what he denies.

POL. I thank you for that, good daughter. [_Aside._]

ROS. I told you, sir, 'twould come to this at last. [_Aside._]

PHIL. O, thou hast spoke my wishes, and hast show'd

Thyself in love as good as beautiful;

Then let's away, dearest Leucothoë.

My fortunes are not poor, then fear no want.

This constant love of ours may prove so happy,

To reconcile our parents' enmity.

LEU. Heaven grant it may!

POL. Never by this means, youngster. [_Aside._]

LEU. But soft; now I think better on't, I'll not go.

PHIL. Why, dearest, is thy love so quickly cold?

LEU. No, but I'll not venture thee; thine is the danger.

Thou know'st 'tis death by law to steal an heir,

And my dear brother's most untimely death

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

PHIL. O, fear not that; had I a thousand lives,

They were too small a venture for such prize.

I tell thee, sweet, a face not half so fair

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

And brought a thousand ships to Tenedos,

To sack lamented Troy; and should I fear

To venture one poor life, and such a life

As would be lost in not possessing thee?

Come, come, make that no scruple: when shall we go?

LEU. This present evening; for to-morrow morning

My father looks that I should give consent

To marry with the count.

PHIL. Best of all, would 'twere this present hour;

I'll go prepare: but shall I call thee here?

LEU. O no, we'll meet.

PHIL. Where, dearest?

LEU. East from the city, by a river's side,

Not distant half a mile, there stands a grove,

Where, often riding by, I have observ'd

A little hermitage; there will I stay,

If I be first; if you, do you the like:

Let th' hour be ten; then shall I best escape.

PHIL. Ne'er sweeter comfort came from angel's lips!

I know the place, and will be ready there

Before the hour. I'll bring a friend with me

As true as mine own heart, one Clerimont,

That may do us good if danger happen.

LEU. Use your pleasure.

PHIL. Dearest, farewell;

Hours will seem years, till we are met again. [_Exeunt._

POL. Ah, sirrah! this gear goes well. God-a-mercy, girl, for thy

intelligence! Why, this is as much as a man could desire--the time,

place, and everything. I warrant 'em, they pass no further. Well, go

thou in and wait upon thy mistress; she's melancholy till she see her

sweetheart again; but when she does, she shall not see him long. Not a

word of what's passed among us, for your life.

PSEC. I warrant you, my lord. [_Exit._

POL. I'll not so much as show an angry look or any token that I know of

any of their proceedings. But, Roscio, we must lay the place strongly.

If they should 'scape us, I were prettily fooled now, after all this.

ROS. Why, 'tis impossible, my lord; we'll go strong enough: besides, I

think it fit we took an officer along with us, to countenance it the

better.

POL. Thou sayest well; go, get one. I'll go myself along with you too; I

love to see sport, though I am old. You'll go along with us too, sir?

EUG. Ay, sir; you shall command my service when you are ready.

POL. Now, Euphues, what I did but barely act,

Thy bleeding heart shall feel, loss of a son,

If law can have his course, as who can let it?[429]

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

Laugh'st at my falling house; but let them laugh,

That win the prize: things ne'er are known till ended.

[_Exeunt_ POLYMETES _and_ ROSCIO.

EUGENIO _solus_.

EUG. Well, I like my sister's choice; she has taken a man whose very

looks and carriage speak him worthy: besides, he is noble, his

fortune's sufficient, they both love each other. What can my father

more desire, that he gapes so after this old count, that comes for the

estate, as t'other, upon my soul, does not, but pure, spotless love? But

now his plot is for revenge upon his old enemy. Fie, fie! 'tis bloody

and unchristian; my soul abhors such acts. This match may rather

reconcile our houses, and I desire, where worth is, to have friendship

as, on my soul, 'tis there. Well, Philocles, I hope to call thee

brother. Somewhat I'll do. I'll go persuade Count Virro not to love her.

I know the way, and I'll but tell him truth--her brother lives; that

will cool his love quickly. But soft! here comes the count, as fit as

may be.

_Enter_ VIRRO.

VIR. She loves me not yet, but that's no matter. I shall have her; her

father says I shall, and I dare take his word. Maids are quickly

overruled. Ha, ha! methinks I am grown younger than I was by twenty

years. This fortune cast upon me is better than Medea's charm to make an

old man young again, to have a lord's estate freely bestowed, and with

it such a beauty as would warm Nestor's blood, and make old Priam lusty.

Fortune, I see thou lovest me now. I'll build a temple to thee shortly,

and adore thee as the greatest deity. Now, what are you?

EUG. A poor scholar, my lord; one that am little beholding to fortune.

VIR. So are most of your profession. Thou shouldst take some more

thriving occupation. Be a judge's man; they are the bravest nowadays, or

a cardinal's pander--that were a good profession, and gainful.

EUG. But not lawful, my lord.

VIR. Lawful! that cardinal may come to be pope, and then he could pardon

thee and himself too.

EUG. My lord, I was brought up a scholar, and I thank you for your

counsel, my lord: I have some for you, and therefore I came.

VIR. For me! what, I prythee?

EUG. 'Tis weighty, and concerns you near.

VIR. Speak, what is't?

EUG. My lord, you are to marry old Polymetes's daughter.

VIR. And heir.

EUG. No heir, my lord; her brother is alive.

VIR. How! thou art mad.

EUG. My lord, what I speak is true; and to my knowledge his father gives

it out in policy to marry his daughter the better; to hook in suitors,

and specially aimed at you, thinking you rich and covetous; and now he

has caught you.

VIR. But dost thou mock me?

EUG. Let me be ever miserable if I speak not truth: as sure as I am

here, Eugenio lives; I know it, and know where he is.

VIR. Where, prythee?

EUG. Not a day's journey hence, where his father enjoined him to stay

till your match, and sends word to him of this plot: besides, I

overheard the old lord and his man Roscio laughing at you for being

caught thus.

VIR. Why, wert thou at the house then?

EUG. Yes, but had scurvy entertainment, which I have thus revenged.

VIR. Beshrew my heart, I know not what to think on't. 'Tis like enough:

this lord was always cunning beyond measure, and it amazed me that he

should grow so extreme kind to me on the sudden, to offer me all this.

Besides, this fellow is so confident, and on no ends of cosenage, that

I can see. Well, I would fain enjoy her--the wench is delicate; but I

would have the estate too, and not be gulled. What shall I do? Now,

brains, if ever you will, help your master.

EUG. It stings him. [_Aside._]

VIR. Well, so, sir, what may I call your name?

EUG. Irus,[430] my lord.

VIR. Your name, as well as your attire, speaks you poor.

EUG. I am so.

VIR. And very poor.

EUG. Very poor.

VIR. Would you not gladly take a course to get money, and a great sum of

money?

EUG. Yes, gladly, if your lordship would but show me the way.

VIR. Hark ye.[431]

EUG. O, my lord, conscience!

VIR. Fie! never talk of conscience; and for law, thou art free; for all

men think him dead, and his father will be ashamed to follow it, having

already given him for dead; and then, who can know it? Come, be wise,

five hundred crowns I'll give.

EUG. Well, 'tis poverty that does it, and not I: when shall I be paid?

VIR. When thou hast done it.

EUG. Well, give me your hand for it, my lord.

VIR. Thou shalt.

EUG. In writing, to be paid when I have poisoned him; and think it

done.

VIR. Now thou speak'st like thyself: come in, I'll give it thee.

EUG. And this shall stop thy mouth for ever, count. [_Exeunt._

LEUCOTHOË [_in male attire_] _sola_.

LEU. There is no creature here; I am the first.

Methinks this sad and solitary place

Should strike a terror to such hearts as mine;

But love has made me bold. The time has been,[432]

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

Each rolling leaf, and trembled at a reed

Stirr'd in the moonshine: my fearful fancy

Would frame a thousand apparitions,

And work some fear out of my very shadow.

I wonder Philocles is tardy thus;

When last we parted, every hour (he said)

Would seem a year till we were met again;

It should not seem so by the haste he makes.

I'll sit and rest me; come, I know, he will.

_Enter_ PHILOCLES _and_ CLERIMONT.

PHIL. This, Clerimont, this is the happy place,

Where I shall meet the sum of all my joys,

And be possess'd of such a treasury

As would enrich a monarch.

LEU. This is his voice! My Philocles!

PHIL. My life! my soul! what, here before me?

O, thou dost still outgo me, and dost make

All my endeavours poor in the requital

Of thy large favours. But I forget myself;

Sweet, bid my friend here welcome; this is he,

That I dare trust next mine own heart with secrets.

But why art thou disguised thus?

LEU. I durst not venture else to make escape.

PHIL. Even now, methinks, I stand as I would wish,

With all my wealth about me. Such a love

And such a friend, what can be added more

To make a man live happy? Thou dark grove,

That hast been call'd the seat of melancholy,

And shelter for the discontented spirits,

Sure, thou art wrong'd; thou seem'st to me a place

Of solace and content; a paradise,

That giv'st me more than ever court could do,

Or richest palace. Bless'd be thy fair shades;

Let birds of music ever chant it here,

No croaking raven or ill-boding owl

Make here their baleful habitation,

Frighting thy walks; but may'st thou be a grove

Where love's fair queen may take delight to sport:

For under thee two faithful lovers meet.

Why is my fair Leucothoë so sad?

LEU. I know no cause; but I would fain be gone.

PHIL. Whither, sweet?

LEU. Any whither from hence,

My thoughts divine of treason, whence I know not.

There is no creature knows our meeting here

But one, and that's my maid; she has been trusty,

And will be still, I hope; but yet I would

She did not know it: prythee, let's away;

Anywhere else we are secure from danger.

Then let's remove, but, prythee, be not sad.

What noise is that? [_Noise within._

LEU. Ah me!

PHIL. O, fear not, love! [_Draws._

_Enter_ POLYMETES, ROSCIO, EUGENIO, _and_ OFFICERS.

POL. Upon 'em, officers, yonder they are.

PHIL. Thieves! villains!

POL. Thou art the thief, and the villain too.

Give me my daughter, thou ravisher.

PHIL. First take my life.

POL. Upon 'em, I say; knock 'em down, officers, if they resist.

[_Fight. They are taken._

LEU. O, they are lost! ah, wicked, wicked Psectas!

POL. So, keep 'em fast; we'll have 'em faster shortly; and for you,

minion, I'll tie a clog about your neck for running away any more.

LEU. Yet do but hear me, father.

POL. Call me not father, thou disobedient wretch,

Thou runaway; thou art no child of mine;

My daughter ne'er wore breeches.

LEU. O sir, my mother would have done as much

For love of you, if need had so requir'd:

Think not my mind transformed as my habit.

POL. Officers, away with him! peace, strumpet!

You may discharge him:[433] he's but an assistant.

LEU. O, stay and hear me yet; hear but a word,

And that my last, it may be: do not spill

The life of him in whom my life subsists;

Kill not two lives in one! Remember, sir,

I was your daughter once, once you did love me:

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

To make a father murderer of his child?

For so you are in taking of his life.

O, think not, sir, that I will stay behind him,

Whilst there be asps and knives, and burning coals.

No Roman dame shall in her great example

Outgo my love.

PHIL. O, where will sorrow stay!

Is there no end in grief, or in my death

Not punishment enough for my offence,

But must her grief be added to afflict me?

Dry up those pearls, dearest Leucothoë,

Or thou wilt make me doubly miserable:

Preserve that life, that I may after death

Live in my better part. Take comfort, dear:

People would curse me if such beauty should

For me miscarry: no, live happy thou,

And let me suffer what the law inflicts.

LEU. My offence was as great

As thine, and why should not my punishment?

POL. Come, have you done? Officers, away with him.

[_Exit_ PHILOCLES.

I'll be your keeper, but I'll look better to you.

But, Roscio, you and I must about the business:

Sir, let it be your charge to watch my daughter,

And see she send no message any whither,

Nor receive any. [_Exeunt_ POLYMETES _and_ ROSCIO.

EUG. It shall, my lord; I'll be an Argus: none shall come here, I

warrant you. My very heart bleeds to see two such lovers, so faithful,

parted so. I must condemn my father; he's too cruel in this action; and,

did not nature forbid it, I could rail at him--to wreak his

long-fostered malice against Lord Euphues thus upon his son, the

faithful lover of his own daughter, and upon her. For should it come to

pass, as he expects it shall, I think it would kill her too, she takes

it so. See in what strange amazement now she stands! her grief has spent

itself so far, that it has left her senseless. It grieves me thus to see

her; I can scarce forbear revealing of myself to her, but that I keep

it for a better occasion, when things shall answer better to my purpose.

Lady!

LEU. What are you?

EUG. One that my lord your father has appointed

To give attendance on you.

LEU. On me I alas! I need no attendance:

He might bestow his care better for me.

EUG. I came but lately to him, nor do I mean

Long to stay with him; in the meantime, lady,

Might I but do you any service?

LEU. All service is too late, my hopes are desperate.

EUG. Madam, I have a feeling of your woe,

A greater your own brother could not have;

And think not that I come suborn'd by any

To undermine your secrets: I am true--

By all the gods, I am! for further trial,

Command me anything, send me on any message,

I'll do it faithfully, or anything else

That my poor power can compass.

LEU. O strange fate!

Have I lost pity in a father's heart,

And shall I find it in a stranger? Sir,

I shall not live to thank you; but my prayers

Shall go with you.

EUG. 'Tis not for thanks or meed,

But for the service that I owe to virtue,

I would do this.

LEU. Surely this man

Is nobly bred, howe'er his habit give him.

But, sir, all physic comes to me too late;

There is no hope my Philocles should live.

EUG. Unless the king were pleas'd to grant his pardon.

'Twere good that he were mov'd.

LEU. Ah! who should do it?

I fear me, 'tis in vain: Count Virro

And my father both will cross it; but I would venture,

If I could but get thither.

EUG. 'Tis in my power

To give you liberty: your father left

Me to be your keeper; but in an act

So meritorious as this I will not hinder you;

Nay, I will wait upon you to the Court.

LEU. A thousand thanks to you; well, I will go.

Grant, O ye powers above, if [a] virgin's tears--

If a true lover's prayers--had ever power

To move compassion, grant it now to me!

Arm with so strong a vigour my weak words,

They may pierce deep into his kingly breast,

And force out mercy in spite of all opposers!

EUG. Come, let's away. [_Exeunt._

FOOTNOTES:

[428] _i.e._, Trustiness or fidelity, or perhaps we should read

_truth_.--_Pegge._ [_Trust_ is right, and should not be altered. It is

a common form of expression.]

[429] _i.e._, Hinder it.

[430] [The name of the beggar in the "Odyssey" slain by Ullysses.]

[431] Virro here whispers the supposed Irus, and makes the proposition

for killing Eugenio.--_Collier._

[432] See the "Old Couple," act ii., where May has borrowed from this

passage the same sentiment--

"The time has been,

In such a solitary place as this,

I should have trembled at each moving leaf;

But sorrow, and my miserable state,

Have made me bold."

[433] _i.e._, Clerimont.--_Pegge._

ACT IV.

_Enter_ FRANCISCO, _reading a letter_.

FRANC. My dearest Luce, were thy old sire as just

As thou art truly constant, our firm love

Had never met these oppositions.

All my designs as yet, all practices

That I have us'd, I see are frustrated;

For, as my fair intelligencer writes,

He will before the next court-day provide

Some careless parson, that in spite of laws

Shall marry her to Shallow: this being done,

He means to hold the court's severity

In by a golden bit, and so he may.

Alas! it is too true; I must prevent it,

And that in time, before it grow too far:

But how? there lies the point of difficulty:

But what strange sight is this that greets mine eyes?

Alphonso, my old captain! sure, 'tis he.

_Enter_ ALPHONSO.

ALPH. Thus once again from twenty years' exile,

Toss'd by the storms of fortune to and fro,

Has gracious heaven given me leave to tread

My native earth of Sicily, and draw

That air that fed me in my infancy.

FRANC. 'Tis he! Most noble captain, O, what power

Has been so gracious as to bless mine eyes

Once more with sight of my most honour'd master?

ALPH. Kind youth, the tears of joy that I have spent

To greet my native country have quite robb'd

Mine eyes of moisture, and have left me none

To answer thy affection. But tell me--

Tell me how thou hast liv'd in Syracuse

These five years here, since that unlucky storm

Divided us at sea.

FRANC. Faith, poorly, sir:

As one that knows no kindred or alliance,

Unknown of any have I shifted out.

But I have heard you say that I was born

In Syracuse: tell me what stock I come of,

What parentage; how mean soe'er they be,

They cannot well be poorer than myself:

Speak, do you know them, sir?

ALPH. Yes; very well,

And I am glad the fates have brought me home,

For thy dear sake, that I may now disclose

Thy honourable birth.

FRANC. Honourable!

ALPH. Yes, noble youth, thou art the second son

To old Lord Euphues; a man more worthy

And truly noble never drew this air.

Thy name's Lysandro: this discovery

Will be as welcome to your friends as you.

FRANC. You do amaze me, sir.

ALPH. I'll tell you all.

It was my fortune twenty years ago,

Upon the Tyrrhene shore, whose sea divides

This isle from Italy, to keep a fort

Under your noble father, where yourself,

Then but a child, was left to my tuition:

When suddenly the rude assailing force

Of strong Italian pirates so prevail'd,

As to surprisal of the fort and us.

Your name and noble birth I then conceal'd,

Fearing some outrage from the enmity

Of those fell pirates; and since from yourself

I purposely have kept the knowledge of it,

As loth to grieve your present misery

With knowledge of what fortunes you had lost.

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

I'll go acquaint your father with the tokens.

And make his o'erjoy'd heart leap to embrace

Thee his new-found and long-forgotten son.

FRANC. Worthy captain, your presence was always

Welcome to me, but this unlook'd-for news

I cannot suddenly digest.

ALPH. Well, I'll go to him presently. [_Exit_ ALPHONSO.

FRANC. Now, my dear Luce, I shall find means to 'quite

Thy love, that couldst descend so low as I,

When I was nothing, and with such affection.

This was my suit still to the powers above,

To make me worthy of thy constant love.

But I'll about the project I intended. [_Exit_ FRANCISCO.

_Enter_ VIRRO _and_ POLYMETES.

POL. Why, now, my lord, you are nearer to her love than ever you were

yet; your rival by this accident shall be removed out of the way; for

before the scornful girl would never fancy any man else.

VIR. I conceive you, sir.

POL. I laboured it for your sake as much as for my own, to remove your

rival and my enemy: you have your love, and I have my revenge.

VIR. I shall live, my lord, to give you thanks. But 'twill be after a

strange manner, if Irus has despatched what he was hired to: then, my

kind lord, I shall be a little too cunning for you. [_Aside._

POL. My lord, you are gracious with the king.

VIR. I thank his majesty, I have his ear before another man.

POL. Then see no pardon be granted; you may stop anything; I know

Euphues will be soliciting for his son.

VIR. I warrant you, my lord, no pardon passes whilst I am there; I'll be

a bar betwixt him and the king. But hark! the king approaches.

_Enter_ KING, _with Attendants_.

AMBO. Health to your majesty.

KING. Count Virro and Lord Polymetes, welcome:

You have been strangers at the Court of late,

But I can well excuse you, count; you are about a wife,

A young one, and a fair one too, they say.

Get me young soldiers, count: but speak,

When is the day? I mean to be your guest;

You shall not steal a marriage.

VIR. I thank your majesty; but the marriage that I intended is stolen

to my hand, and by another.

KING. Stolen! how, man?

VIR. My promised wife

Is lately stol'n away by Philocles,

Lord Euphues' son, against her father's will;

Who follow'd 'em, and apprehended them:

The law may right us, sir, if it may have course.

KING. No reason but the law should have its course.

_Enter_ EUPHUES.

EUPH. Pardon, dread sovereign, pardon for my son.

KING. Your son, Lord Euphues! what is his offence?

EUPH. No heinous one, my liege, no plot of treason

Against your royal person or your state:

These aged cheeks would blush to beg a pardon

For such a foul offence: no crying murder

Hath stain'd his innocent hands; his fault was love--

Love, my dear liege. Unfortunately he took

The daughter and heir of Lord Polymetes,

Who follows him, and seeks extremity.

POL. I seek but law; I am abus'd, my liege,

Justice is all I beg: my daughter's stol'n,

Staff of my age; let the law do me right.

VIR. To his just prayers do I bend my knee.

My promis'd wife is stol'n, and by the son

Of that injurious lord: justice I crave.

EUPH. Be like those powers above, whose place on earth

You represent; show mercy, gracious king,

For they are merciful.

POL. Mercy is but the king's prerogative,

'Tis justice is his office: doing that,

He can wrong no man, no man can complain;

But mercy show'd oft takes away relief

From the wrong'd party, that the law would give him.

EUPH. The law is blind, and speaks in general terms;

She cannot pity where occasion serves:

The living law can moderate her rigour,

And that's the king.

POL. The king, I hope, in this will not do so.

EUPH. 'Tis malice makes thee speak,

Hard-hearted lord. Hadst thou no other way

To wreak thy canker'd and long-foster'd hate

Upon my head but thus--thus bloodily

By my son's suffering, and for such a fault,

As thou shouldst love him rather? Is thy daughter

Disparag'd by his love? Is his blood base,

Or are his fortunes sunk? This law was made

For suchlike cautions to restrain the base

From wronging noble persons by attempts

Of such a kind; but where equality

Meets in the match, the fault is pardonable.

_Enter_ LEUCOTHOË.

LEU. Mercy, my sovereign! mercy, gracious king!

POL. Minion, who sent for you? 'twere modesty

For you to be at home.

KING. Let her alone. Speak, lady:

I charge you, no man interrupt her.

LEU. If ever pity touch'd that princely breast,

If ever virgin's tears had power to move,

Or if you ever lov'd, and felt the pangs

That other lovers do, pity, great king--

Pity and pardon two unhappy lovers.

KING. Your life is not in question.

LEU. Yes, royal sir,

If law condemn my Philocles, he and I

Have but one heart, and can have but one fate.

EUPH. Excellent virtue! thou hadst not this from thy father.

KING. There's music in her voice, and in her face

More than a mortal beauty: O my heart!

I shall be lost in passion if I hear her. [_Aside._]

I'll hear no more: convey her from my presence:

Quickly. I say.

EUPH. This is strange!

VIR. I told you what he would do; I knew

He would not hear of a pardon, and I against it;

He respects me.

POL. No doubt he does, my lord:

I like this passage well.

KING. But stay:

Stay, lady, let me hear you. Beshrew my heart,

My mind was running of another matter.

VIR. Where the devil hath his mind been all this while? Perhaps he heard

none of us neither; we may e'en tell our tales again.

POL. No, sure, he heard us; but 'tis very strange.

KING. 'Tis such a tempting poison I draw in,

I cannot stay my draught. [_Aside._] Rise up, lady.

LEU. Never, until your grace's pardon raise me.

There's pity in your eye: O, show it, sir.

Say pardon, gracious king; 'tis but a word

And short, but welcome as the breath of life.

KING. I'll further hear the manner of this fact.

Avoid the presence--all but the lady;

And come not, till I send.

POL. I like not this. [_Aside._]

VIR. Nor I; here is mad dancing.

EUPH. Heaven bless thy suit, thou mirror of thy sex,

And best example of true constant love,

That in the sea of thy transcendent virtues

Drown'st all thy father's malice, and redeem'st

More in my thoughts than all thy kin can lose! [_Exeunt._

KING. Now, lady,

What would you do to save the life of him

You love so dearly?

LEU. I cannot think that thought I would not do.

Lay it in my power, and beyond my power

I would attempt.

KING. You would be thankful then to me,

If I should grant his pardon?

LEU. If ever I were thankful to the gods

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

Could I to you be unthankful for a gift

I value more than those, and without which

These blessings were but wearisome?

KING. Those that are thankful study to requite

A courtesy; would you do so? Would you

Requite this favour?

LEU. I cannot, sir;

For all the service I can do your grace

Is but my duty; you are my sovereign,

And all my deeds to you are debts, not merits.

But to those powers above that can requite,

That from their wasteless treasures heap rewards

More out of grace than merits on us mortals,

To those I'll ever pray, that they would give you

More blessings than I have skill to ask.

KING. Nay, but, Leucothoë, this lies

In thy power to requite: thy love will make requital;

Wilt thou love me?

LEU. I ever did, my lord:

I was instructed from my infancy

To love and honour you my sovereign.

KING. But in a nearer bond of love?

LEU. There is no nearer nor no truer love,

Than that a loyal subject bears a prince.

KING. Still thou wilt not conceive me: I must deal

Plain with you: wilt thou lie with me?

And I will seal his pardon presently;

Nay more, I'll heap upon you both all favours,

All honours that a prince can give.

LEU. O me unhappy!

In what a sad dilemma stands my choice,

Either to lose the man my soul most loves,

Or save him by a deed of such dishonour,

As he will ever loathe me for, and hate

To draw that breath that was so basely kept! [_Aside._]

Name anything but that to save his life;

I know you do but tempt my frailty, sir.

I know your royal thoughts could never stoop

To such a foul, dishonourable act.

KING. Bethink thyself, there is no way but that.

I swear by heaven never to pardon him

But upon those conditions.

LEU. O, I am miserable!

KING. Thou art not, if not wilful; yield, Leucothoë,

It shall be secret: Philocles for his life

Shall thank thy love, but never know the price

Thou paid'st for it. Be wise; thou heardst me swear:

I cannot now show mercy, thou may'st save him,

And if he die, 'tis thou that art the tyrant.

LEU. I should be so, if I should save him thus.

Nay, I should be a traitor to your grace,

Betray your soul to such a foe as lust.

But since your oath is pass'd, dear Philocles,

I'll show to thee an honest cruelty,

And rather follow thee in spotless death,

Than buy with sinning a dishonour'd life.

KING. Yet pity me, Leucothoë; cure the wound

Thine eyes have made: pity a begging king!

Uncharm the charms of thy bewitching face,

Or thou wilt leave me dead. Will nothing move thee?

Thou art a witch, a traitor: thou hast sought

By unresisted spells thy sovereign's life.

Who are about us? Call in the lords again.

_Enter_ POLYMETES, VIRRO, EUPHUES, &c.

Lord Polymetes, take your daughter to you,

Keep her at home.

POL. I will, my liege; Roscio, see her there.

I wonder what is done. [_Aside._]

KING. Euphues, I have ta'en a solemn oath

Never to grant a pardon to thy son.

EUPH. O, say not so, my liege; your grace, I know,

Has mercy for a greater fault than this.

KING. My oath is pass'd, and cannot be recall'd.

POL. This is beyond our wishes. [_Aside._]

VIR. What made him swear this, I wonder?

EUPH. A heavy oath to me, and most unlook'd for.

Your justice, sir, has set a period

Unto a loyal house, a family

That have been props of the Sicilian crown,

That with their bloods in many an honour'd field,

'Gainst the hot French and Neapolitan,

Have serv'd for you and your great ancestors:

Their children now can never more do so.

Farewell, my sovereign! whilst I in tears

Spend the sad remnant of my childless age,

I'll pray for your long life and happy reign,

And may your grace and your posterity

At need find hands as good and hearts as true,

As ours have ever been!

KING. Farewell, good old man.

EUPH. For you, my lord, your cruelty has deserv'd

A curse from me, but I can utter none:

Your daughter's goodness has weigh'd down your malice,

Heaven prosper her! [_Exit_ EUPHUES.

POL. Amen.

KING. He is an honest man, and truly noble.

O my rash oath! my lust that was the cause:

Would any price would buy it in again!

VIR. Your majesty is just.

POL. 'Tis a happy land,

Where the king squares his actions by the law.

KING. Away! you are base and bloody,

That feed your malice with pretence of justice.

'Tis such as you make princes tyrannous,

And hated of their subjects: but look to't,

Look your own heads stand fast; for if the law

Do find a hole in your coats, beg no mercy.

VIR. Pardon us, my lord, we were wrong'd.

POL. And sought redress but by a lawful course.

KING. Well, leave me alone.

VIR. Farewell, my liege. Now let him chafe alone.

POL. Now we have our ends. [_Exeunt._

KING. Is there no means to save him, no way

To get a dispensation for an oath?

None that I know, except the court of Rome

Will grant one: that's well thought on;

I will not spare for gold, and that will do it.

Nicanor!

_Enter_ NICANOR.

NIC. Sir!

KING. What book is that

Thou hadst from Paris about the price of sins?

NIC. 'Tis called the Taxes of the Apostolical Chancery.[434]

KING. Is there a price for any sin set down?

NIC. Any, sir: how heinous e'er it be,

Or of what nature, for such a sum of money

As is set down there, it shall be remitted.

KING. That's well; go fetch the book presently.

NIC. I will, my lord. [_Exit_ NICANOR.

KING. Sure, there is perjury

Among the rest, and I shall know what rate

It bears, before I have committed it.

_Re-enter_ NICANOR.

How now, hast brought it?

NIC. Yes, sir.

KING. Read; I would know the price of perjury.

NIC. I shall find it quickly; here's an index. [_He reads._]

_Imprimis_. For murder of all kinds, of a clergyman, of a layman, of

father, mother, son, brother, sister, wife----

KING. Read till you come at perjury.

NIC. _Item_, for impoisoning, enchantments, witchcraft, sacrilege,

simony, and their kind and branches.

_Item, pro lapsu carnis_, fornication, adultery, incest without any

exception or distinction; for sodomy, brutality, or any of that kind.

KING. My heart shakes with horror

To hear the names of such detested sins.

Can these be bought for any price of money?

Or do these merchants but deceive the world

With their false wares? No more of that foul book;

I will not now know what I came to know.

I would not for the world redeem my oath

By such a course as this. No more, Nicanor,

Unless thou find a price for atheism.

Well, this is not the way to help, I see;

I have thought of another that may prove

And both discharge my oath, and save his life.

Nicanor, run presently, call Matho hither--

Matho the lawyer: command him to make haste;

I long to be resolv'd.

NIC. I run, sir.

KING. He is a subtle lawyer, and may find

Some point, that in the law's obscurity

Lies hid from us--some point may do us good.

I have seen some of his profession

Out of a case as plain, as clear as day

To our weak judgments, and no doubt at first

Meant like our thoughts by those that made the law,

Pick out such hard, inextricable doubts,

That they have spun a suit of seven years long,

And led their hood-wink['d] clients in a wood,

A most irremeable labyrinth,

Till they have quite consum'd them. This they can do

In other cases: why not as well in this?

I have seen others could extend the law

Upon the rack, or cut it short again

To their own private profits, as that thief,

Cruel Procrustes, serv'd his hapless guests,

To fit them to his bed. Well, I shall see.

I would Nicanor were return'd again,

I would fain ease my conscience of that oath,

That rash and inconsiderate oath I took.

But see! here they are coming.

_Enter_ MATHO _and_ NICANOR.

MATHO. Health to my sovereign!

KING. Matho, welcome.

I sent for thee about a business

I would entreat thy help in.

MATHO. Your highness may command my service in that,

Or anything lies in my power.

KING. 'Tis to decide a case that troubles me.

MATHO. If it lie within the compass of my knowledge,

I will resolve your highness presently.

KING. Then thus it is: Lord Euphues' son,

Young Philocles, has lately stol'n away

The daughter and heir of Lord Polymetes,

Who is his enemy: he, following him hard,

Has apprehended him, and brings him to his trial

To-morrow morning. Thou hast heard this news?

MATHO. I have, my liege, with every circumstance

That can be thought on in the business.

KING. And what will be the issue of the law?

MATHO. He must die for't; the case is plain; unless

Your grace will grant his pardon.

KING. But can there be no means thought upon

To save him by the law?

MATHO. None, my lord.

KING. Surely there may; speak, man: I'll give thee double fees.

MATHO. It cannot be, my liege; the statute is plain.

KING. Nay, now thou art too honest; thou shouldst do,

As other lawyers do: first take my money,

And then tell me thou canst do me no good.

MATHO. I dare not undertake it; could it be done,

I'd go as far as any man would do.

KING. Yes, if it were to cut a poor man's throat, you could;

For some rich griping landlord you could grind

The face of his poor tenant, stretch the law

To serve his turn, and, guided by his angels,

Speak oracles more than the tongues of men.

Then you could find exceptions, reservations,

Stand at a word, a syllable, a letter,

Go coin some scruples out of your own brains:

But in a case so full of equity,

So charitable as this, you can find nothing.

I shall for ever hate all your profession.

MATHO. I do beseech your highness to excuse me:

I cannot do more than your laws will let me;

Nor falsify my knowledge nor my conscience.

KING. Then I am miserable. Rise, Matho, rise,

I do not discommend thy honesty,

But blame my own hard fate. Ah, Philocles!

I would redeem thy life at any price;

But the stars cross it: cruel fate condemns thee. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ CONSTABLE _and_ WATCH.[435]

CON. Come, fellow-watchmen, for now you are my fellows.

1ST WATCH. It pleases you to call us so, master constable.

CON. I do it to encourage you in your office--it is a trick that we

commanders have: your great captains call your soldiers fellow-soldiers

to encourage them.

2D WATCH. Indeed, and so they do. I heard master curate reading a

story-book t'other day to that purpose.

CON. Well, I must show now what you have to do, for I myself, before I

came to this prefermity, was as simple as one of you: and, for your

better destruction, I will deride my speech into two parts. First, what

is a watchman? Secondly, what is the office of a watchman? For the

first, if any man ask me what is a watchman, I may answer him, he is a

man, as others are; nay, a tradesman, as a vintner, a tailor, or the

like, for they have long bills.

3D WATCH. He tells us true, neighbour, we have bills[436] indeed.

CON. For the second, what is his office? I answer, he may, by virtue of

his office, reprehend any person or persons that walk the streets too

late at a seasonable hour.

4TH WATCH. May we indeed, master constable?

CON. Nay, if you meet any of those rogues at seasonable hours, you may,

by virtue of your office, commit him to prison, and then ask him whither

he was going.

1ST WATCH. Why, that's as much as my lord mayor does.

CON. True, my lord mayor can do no more than you in that point.

2D WATCH. But, master constable, what, if he should resist us?

CON. Why, if he do resist, you may knock him down, and then bid him

stand, and come before the constable. So now I think you are

sufficiently instructed concerning your office. Take your stands: you

shall hear rogues walking at these seasonable hours, I warrant you:

stand close.

_Enter_ EUGENIO.

EUG. Now do I take as much care to be apprehended as others do to 'scape

the watch: I must speak to be overheard, and plainly too, or else these

dolts will never conceive me.

CON. Hark, who goes by?

EUG. O my conscience, my conscience! the terror of a guilty conscience!

CON. How, conscience talks he of! he's an honest man, I warrant him: let

him pass.

2D WATCH. Ay, ay, let him pass. Good night, honest gentleman.

EUG. These are wise officers, I must be plainer yet. That gold, that

cursed gold, that made me poison him--made me poison Eugenio.

CON. How, made me poison him! he's a knave, I warrant him.

3D WATCH. Master constable has found him already.

CON. I warrant you, a knave cannot pass me. Go, reprehend him; I'll take

his excommunication myself.

1ST WATCH. Come afore the constable.

2D WATCH. Come afore the constable.

CON. Sirrah, sirrah, you would have 'scaped, would you? No, sirrah, you

shall know the king's officers have eyes to hear such rogues as you.

Come, sirrah, confess who it was you poisoned. He looks like a notable

rogue.

1ST WATCH. I do not like his looks.

2D WATCH. Nor I.

CON. You would deny it, would you, sirrah? We shall sift you.

EUG. Alas, master constable! I cannot now deny what I have said: you

overheard me; I poisoned Eugenio, son to Lord Polymetes.

1ST WATCH. O rascal!

2D WATCH. My young landlord!

CON. Let him alone, the law shall punish him; but, sirrah, where did you

poison him?

EUG. About a day's journey hence; as he was coming home from Athens, I

met him, and poisoned him.

CON. But, sirrah, who set you a-work? Confess--I shall find out the

whole nest of these rogues--speak.

EUG. Count Virro hired me to do it.

CON. O lying rascal!

1ST WATCH. Nay, he that will steal will lie.

2D WATCH. I'll believe nothing he says.

3D WATCH. Belie a man of worship!

4TH WATCH. A nobleman!

CON. Away with him, I'll hear no more. Remit him to prison. Sirrah, you

shall hear of these things to-morrow, where you would be loth to hear

them. Come, let's go. [_Exeunt._

FOOTNOTES:

[434] This book, entitled "The Tax of the Roman Chancery," which has

been several times translated into English, was first published at

Rome in the year [1471]. It furnishes the most flagrant instances of

the abominable profligacy of the Roman court at that time. Among other

passages in it are the following: "Absolutio a lapsu carnis super

quocunque actu libidinoso commisso per clericum, etiam cum monialibus,

intra et extra septa monasterii; aut cum consanguineis vel affinibus,

aut filia spirituali, aut quibusdam aliis, sive ab unoquoque de per

se, sive simul ab omnibus absolutio petatur cum dispensatione ad

ordines et beneficia, cum inhibitione tur. 36. duc. 3. Si vero cum

illis petatur absolutio etiam a crimine commisso contra naturam, vel

cum brutis, cum dispensatione ut supra, et cum inhibitione tur. 90.

duc. 12. car. 16. Si vero petatur tantum absolutio a crimine contra

naturam, vel cum brutis, cum dispensatione et inhibitione, turon 36.

duc. 9. Absolutio pro moniali qui se permisit pluries cognosci intra

vel extra septa monasterii, cum rehabilitate ad dignitates illius

ordinis etiam abbatialem, turon 36. duc. 9." In the edition of Bois le

Duc there is "Absolutio pro eo, qui interfecit patrem, matrem,

sororem, uxorem..... g. 5. vel. 7." See Bayle, art. Banck.

[435] This Constable and Watch are poor imitations of Shakespeare's

Dogberry, &c., in "Much Ado about Nothing."--_Steevens._

[436] A pun upon the word bills is here intended, by confounding the

_bills_ of tradesmen with the _bills_ or arms formerly carried by

watchmen. Thus in [Munday's] curious old comedy, obviously translated

from the Italian, with some adaptations to English customs, called the

"Two Italian Gentlemen," we meet with the following direction:--"Enter

Fedele with Pedante, and with them two _watchmen with bills_," act iv.

sc. 5, sig. F 2.--_Collier._

ACT V.

_Enter_ FRANKLIN, SHALLOW, LUCE, FRANCISCO _in a parson's habit, and a

true_ PARSON _otherwise attired_.

FRANK. I'll take your counsel, sir, I'll not be seen in't,

But meet you when 'tis done: you'll marry them?

FRAN. Fear not that, sir; I'll do the deed.

FRANK. I shall Rest thankful to you; till then I'll leave you.

SHAL. I pray, father, leave us, we know how to behave ourselves alone;

methinks, Luce, we are too many by two yet.

LUCE. You are merry, sir. [_Exeunt._

_Manet_ FRANKLIN.

FRANK. Now they are sure, or never! poor Francisco,

Thou mett'st thy match, when thou durst undertake

To o'erreach me with tricks. Where's now your sumner?

'Fore heaven, I cannot but applaud my brain,

To take my daughter even against her will,

And great with child by another, her shame publish'd,

She cited to the court, and yet bestow her

On such a fortune as rich Shallow is:

Nay, that which is the masterpiece of all,

Make him believe 'tis his, though he ne'er touch'd her.

If men ne'er met with crosses in the world,

There were no difference 'twixt the wise and fools.

But I'll go meet them; when 'tis done, I fear not. [_Exit._

_Enter_ FRANCISCO, PARSON, SHALLOW, LUCE.

FRANC. Nay, fret not now; you had been worse abus'd,

If you had married her: she never lov'd you.

LUCE. I ever scorned thy folly, and hated thee; though sometimes afore

my father I would make an ass of thee.

SHAL. O women, monstrous women! little does her father know who has

married her.

LUCE. Yes, he knows the parson married me, and you can witness that.

FRANC. And he shall know the parson will lie with her.

SHAL. Well, parson, I will be revenged on all thy coat: I will not

plough an acre of ground for you to tithe, I'll rather pasture my

neighbour's cattle for nothing.

PAR. O, be more charitable, sir; bid God give them joy.

SHAL. I care not greatly if I do: he is not the first parson that has

taken a gentleman's leavings.

FRANC. How mean you, sir?

SHAL. You guess my meaning. I hope to have good luck to horse flesh, now

she is a parson's wife?

FRANC. You have lain with her, then, sir.

SHAL. I cannot tell you that; but if you saw a woman with child without

lying with a man, then perhaps I have not.

LUCE. Impudent coxcomb! Barest thou say that ever thou layest with me?

Didst thou ever so much as kiss my hand in private?

SHAL. These things must not be spoken of in company.

LUCE. Thou know'st I ever hated thee.

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

tale.

LUCE. The fool is mad; by heaven, my Francisco, I am wronged!

[_He discovers himself._

FRANC. Then I must change my note. Sirrah, unsay what you have spoken;

swear here before the parson and myself you never touched her, or I'll

cut thy throat: it is Francisco threatens thee.

SHAL. I am in a sweet case, what should I do now? Her father thinks I

have lain with her: if I deny it, he'll have a bout with me: if I say I

have, this young rogue will cut my throat.

FRANC. Come, will you swear?

SHAL. I would I were fairly off; I would lose my wench with all my

heart. I swear.

FRANC. So now thou art free from any imputation that his tongue can

stick upon thee. [_To_ LUCE.]

_Enter_ FRANKLIN.

FRANK. Well, now I see 'tis done.

SHAL. Here's one shall talk with you.

FRANK. God give you joy, son Shallow.

FRANC. I thank you, father.

FRANK. How's this, Francisco in the parson's habit?

FRANC. I have married her, as you bad me, sir; but this was the truer

parson of the two: he tied the knot, and this gentleman is our witness.

FRANK. I am undone! strumpet, thou hast betrayed thyself to beggary, to

shame besides, and that in open court: but take what thou hast sought:

hang, beg, and starve, I'll never pity thee.

LUCE. Good sir!

SHAL. I told you what would come on't.

FRANK. How did your wisdom lose her?

SHAL. E'en as you see; I was beguiled, and so were you.

FRANK. Francisco, take her; thou seest the portion thou art like to

have.

FRANC. 'Tis such a portion as will ever please me: but for her sake be

not unnatural.

LUCE. Do not reject me, father.

FRANC. But for the fault that she must answer for, or shame she should

endure in court, behold her yet an untouched virgin. Cushion, come

forth; here, Signior Shallow, take your child unto you, make much of it,

it may prove as wise as the father. [_He flings the cushion at him._

MATHO. None, my lord.

KING. Surely there may; speak, man: I'll give thee double fees.

MATHO. It cannot be, my liege; the statute is plain.

FRANK. This is more strange than t'other: ah, Luce! wert thou so subtle

to deceive thyself and me? Well, take thy fortune, 'tis thine own

choice.

FRANC. Sir, we can force no bounty from you, and therefore must rest

content with what your pleasure is.

_Enter_ EUPHUES, ALPHONSO.

ALPH. Yonder he is, my lord; that's he in the parson's habit; he is thus

disguised about the business I told you of. Lysandro, see your noble

father.

EUPH. Welcome, my long-lost son, from all the storms

Of frowning fortune that thou hast endur'd,

Into thy father's arms.

LUCE. Is my Francisco noble?

FRANK. Lord Euphues' son! I am amaz'd.

EUPH. I hear, Lysandro, that you are married.

FRANC. Yes, my lord; this is my bride, the daughter and heir of this

rich gentleman. 'Twas only she that, when my state was nothing, my poor

self and parentage unknown, vouchsafed to know me--nay, grace me with

her love, her constant love.

EUPH. Such merit must not be forgot, my son.

Daughter, much joy attend upon your choice.

FRANC. Now wants but your consent.

FRANK. Which with a willing heart I do bestow.

Pardon me, worthy son, I have so long

Been hard to you: 'twas ignorance

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

FRANC. Your care needs no apology.

EUPH. But now, Lysandro, I must make thee sad

Upon thy wedding-day, and let thee know

There is no pure and uncompounded joy

Lent to mortality: in depth of woe

Thou mett'st the knowledge of thy parentage;

Thy elder brother Philocles must die:

And in his tragedy our name and house

Had sunk for ever, had not gracious heaven

Sent, as a comfort to my childless age,

Thy long-lost self, supporter of the name.

FRANC. But can there be no means to save his life?

EUPH. Alas! there's none--the king has taken an oath

Never to pardon him; but since, they say,

His majesty repents, and fain would save him.

FRANC. Then am I wretched: like a man long blind,

That comes at last to see the wish'd-for sun,

But finds it in eclipse: such is my case,

To meet in this dark woe my dearest friends.

EUPH. Had you not heard this news before, Lysandro?

FRANC. Yes, sir, and did lament

As for a worthy stranger, but ne'er knew

My sorrow stood engag'd by such a tie

As brotherhood. Where may we see him, sir?

EUPH. This morning he's arraigned. Put off

That habit you are in, and go along with me;

Leave your friends here awhile.

FRANC. Farewell, father; dear Luce, till soon[437] farewell:

Nought but so sad a chance could make me cloudy now. [_Exeunt._

FRANK. Well, Luce, thy choice has proved better than we expected; but

this cloud of grief has dimmed our mirth, but will, I hope, blow over.

Heaven grant it may! And, Signior Shallow, though you have missed what

my love meant you once, pray be my guest.

SHAL. I thank you, sir; I'll not be strange. [_Exeunt._

_The Court._--_Enter_ KING, NICANOR.

KING. Nicanor, I would find some privy place,

Where I might stand unseen, unknown of any,

To hear th' arraignment of young Philocles.

NIC. The judges are now entering: please you, sir,

Here to ascend: you may both hear and see.

KING. Well, I'll go up;

And, like a jealous husband, hear and see

That that will strike me dead. Am I a king,

And cannot pardon such a small offence?

I cannot do't, nor am I Cæsar now.

Lust has uncrown'd me, and my rash-ta'en oath

Has reft me of a king's prerogative.

Come, come, Nicanor, help me to ascend,

And see that fault that I want pow'r to mend. [_They ascend._

_Enter three_ JUDGES, VIRRO, POLYMETES, EUPHUES, FRANCISCO, LEUCOTHOË,

CLERIMONT, ROSCIO.

1ST JUDGE. Bring forth the prisoner: where are the witnesses?

POL. Here, my lords. I am the wronged party, and the fact my man here,

besides the officers that took them, can justify.

2D JUDGE. That's enough.

_Enter_ PHILOCLES, _with a guard_.

1ST JUDGE. Philocles, stand to the bar, and answer to such crimes,

As shall be here objected 'gainst thy life.

Read the indictment.

PHIL. Spare that labour;

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

And speak as much as my accusers can--

As much as all the witnesses can prove.

'Twas I that stole away the daughter and heir

Of Lord Polymetes, which were't to do again,

Rather than lose her, I again would venture.

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

CLER. 'Tis brave and resolute.

1ST JUDGE. A heavy sentence, noble Philocles;

And such a one as I could wish myself

Off from this place some other might deliver.

You must die for it: death is your sentence.

PHIL. Which I embrace with willingness. Now, my lord,

Is your hate glutted yet, or is my life [_To_ POLYMETES.

Too poor a sacrifice to appease the rancour

Of your inveterate malice? If it be too,[438]

Invent some scandal, that may after blot

My reputation. Father, dry your tears, [_To_ EUPHUES.

Weep not for me; my death shall leave no stain

Upon your blood, nor blot on your fair name.

The honour'd ashes of my ancestors

May still rest quiet in their tear-wet urns

For any fact of mine. I might have liv'd,

If heaven had not prevented it, and found

Death for some foul dishonourable act.

Brother, farewell; no sooner have I found [_To_ FRANCISCO.

But I must leave thy wish'd-for company.

Farewell, my dearest love; live thou still happy;

And may some one of more desert than I

Be bless'd in the enjoying what I lose!

I need not wish him happiness that has thee,

For thou wilt bring it; may he prove as good

As thou art worthy.

LEU. Dearest Philocles,

There is no room for any man but thee

Within this breast. O good my lords,

Be merciful, condemn us both together,

Our faults are both alike; why should the law

Be partial thus, and lay it all on him?

1ST JUDGE. Lady, I would we could as lawfully

Save him as you: he should not die for this.

_Enter_ CONSTABLE, _leading_ EUGENIO.

How now, who's that you have brought there?

CON. A benefactor, an it please your lordships;

I reprehended him in my watch last night.

VIR. Irus is taken.

2D JUDGE. What's his offence?

CON. Murder.

WATCH. No, Master Constable, 'twas but poisoning of a man.

CON. Go, thou art a fool.

VIR. I am undone for ever; all will out.

3D JUDGE. What proofs have you against him?

CON. His own profession, if it please your honour.

3D JUDGE. And that's an ill profession--to be a murderer. Thou meanest

he has confessed the fact.

CON. Yes, my lord, he cannot deny it.

1ST JUDGE. Did he not name the party who it was that he had poisoned?

CON. Marry, with reverence be it spoken, it was Eugenio, my Lord

Polymetes' son.

POL. How's this?

1ST JUDGE. He died long since at Athens.

POL. I cannot tell what I should think of it:

This is the man that lately brought me news

My son was living.

2D JUDGE. Fellow, stand to the bar;

Thou hearest thy accusation; what canst thou say?

EUG. Ah, my good lord!

I cannot now deny what I have said.

This man o'erheard me, as my bleeding heart

Was making a confession of my crime.

CON. I told him, an't shall please your lordships,

The king's officers had eyes to hear such rascals.

1ST JUDGE. You have been careful in your office, constable;

You may now leave your prisoner.

CON. I'll leave the felon with your lordship.

1ST JUDGE. Farewell, good constable: murder, I see, will out.

Why didst thou poison him? [_Exit_ CONSTABLE.

EUG. I was poor, and want made me be hired.

2D JUDGE. Hired by whom?

EUG. By Count Virro; there he stands.

VIR. I do beseech your lordships not to credit

What this base fellow speaks. I'm innocent.

1ST JUDGE. I do believe you are. Sirrah, speak truth;

You have not long to live.

EUG. Please it your lordship, I may relate the manner?

3D JUDGE. Do.

EUG. Eugenio was alive, when first the news

Was spread in Syracuse that he was dead;

Which false report Count Virro crediting,

Became an earnest suitor to his sister,

Thinking her [to be's] heir; but finding afterwards

Her brother liv'd, and [he was] coming home,

Not a day's journey hence, he sent [for] me to him,

And with a promise of five hundred crowns

Hir'd me to poison him. That this is true,

Here's his own hand to witness it against him:

Please it your lordships to peruse the writing.

1ST JUDGE. This is his hand.

3D JUDGE. Sure as I live, I have seen warrants from him with just these

characters.

3D JUDGE. Besides, methinks this fellow's tale is likely.

POL. 'Tis too true;

This fellow's sudden going from my house

Put me into a fear.

1ST JUDGE. Count Virro, stand to the bar.

What can you say to clear you of this murder?

VIR. Nothing, my lords; I must confess the fact.

2D JUDGE. Why, then, against you both do I pronounce

Sentence of death.

AMBO. The law is just.

POL. Wretch that I am, is my dissembl'd grief

Turn'd to true sorrow? Were my acted tears

But prophecies of my ensuing woe,

And is he truly dead? O, pardon me,

Dear ghost of my Eugenio, 'twas my fault

That called this hasty vengeance from the gods,

And shorten'd thus thy life; for whilst with tricks

I sought to fasten wealth upon our house,

I brought a cannibal to be the grave

Of me and mine. Base, bloody, murderous count.

VIR. Vile cosener! cheating lord! dissembler!

1ST JUDGE. Peace! stop the mouth of malediction, there!

This is no place to rail in.

EUPH. Ye just powers,

That to the quality of man's offence

Shape your correcting rods, and punish there

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

Bear such a heavy share in this day's woe,

I could with a free soul applaud your justice.

POL. Lord Euphues and Philocles, forgive me.

To make amends I know 's impossible,

For what my malice wrought; but I would fain

Do somewhat that might testify my grief

And true repentance.

EUG. That is that I look'd for. [_Aside._]

EUPH. Y' are kind too late, my lord: had you been thus

When need requir'd, y' had say'd yourself and me

Our hapless sons; but if your grief be true,

I can forgive you heartily.

PHIL. And I.

EUG. Now comes my cue. [_Aside._] My Lord Polymetes,

Under correction, let me ask one question.

POL. What question? speak.

EUG. If this young lord

Should live, would you bestow your daughter willingly

Upon him? would you, my lord?

POL. As willingly as I would breathe myself.

EUG. Then dry [up] all your eyes,

There's no man here shall have a cause to weep.

Your life is sav'd; Leucothoë is no heir; [_To_ PHILOCLES.

Her brother lives, and that clears you, Count Virro,

Of your supposed murder.

ALL. How! lives?

EUG. Yes, lives to call thee brother, Philocles.

[_He discovers himself._

LEU. O my dear brother!

POL. My son, welcome from death.

EUG. Pardon me, good my lord, that I thus long

Have from your knowledge kept myself concealed;

My end was honest.

POL. I see it was.

And now, son Philocles, give me thy hand.

Here take thy wife: she loves thee, I dare swear;

And for the wrong that I intended thee,

Her portion shall be double what I meant it.

PHIL. I thank your lordship.

POL. Brother Euphues,

I hope all enmity is now forgot

Betwixt our houses.

EUPH. Let it be ever so. I do embrace your love.

VIR. Well, my life is say'd yet, [al]though my wench

Be lost. God give you joy.

PHIL. Thanks, good my lord.

1ST JUDGE. How suddenly this tragic scene is chang'd,

And turn'd to comedy!

2D JUDGE. 'Tis very strange!

POL. Let us conclude within.

KING. Stay, and take my joy with you.

[_The_ KING _speaks from above_.

EUPH. His majesty is coming down: let us attend.

_Enter_ KING.

KING. These jars are well clos'd up; now, Philocles,

What my rash oath denied me, this bless'd hour

And happy accident has brought to pass--

The saving of thy life.

PHIL. A life, my liege,

That shall be ever ready to be spent

Upon your service.

KING. Thanks, good Philocles.

But where's the man whose happy presence brought

All this unlook'd-for sport? where is Eugenio?

EUG. Here, my dread liege.

KING. Welcome to Syracuse,

Welcome, Eugenio; prythee, ask some boon

That may requite the good that thou hast done.

EUG. I thank your majesty; what I have done

Needs no requital; but I have a suit

Unto Lord Euphues, please it your majesty

To be to him an intercessor for me,

I make no question but I shall obtain.

KING. What is it? speak; it shall be granted thee.

EUG. That it would please him to bestow on me

His niece, the fair and virtuous Lady Leda.

EUPH. With all my heart: I know 'twill please her well:

I have often heard her praise Eugenio.

It shall be done within.

KING. Then here all strife ends.

I'll be your guest myself to-day, and help

To solemnise this double marriage.

POL. Your royal presence shall much honour us.

KING. Then lead away: the happy knot you tie,

Concludes in love two houses' enmity.

FOOTNOTES:

[437] [An uncommon form of expression, equivalent to the French

phrase _à bientôt_.]

[438] I think we should read _go--Pegge_. The syllable _to_ is more

than is required either for the sense or the measure.--_Collier_. [The

original has _to_, as stated; but we should read _too, i.e., if_ my

life be too mean a sacrifice, &c.]

THE EPILOGUE.

Our heir is fall'n from her inheritance,

But has obtain'd her love: you may advance

Her higher yet; and from your pleas'd hands give

A dowry, that will make her truly live.

FINIS.

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Transcriber notes:

P.21 footnote 19: Taken out the extra 'g' in 'farthinggale'

P.324 footnote 266: 'Tintagol' needs to be 'Tintagel'. Changed.

Tintagel is the peninsula on the northern Cornwall coast reference.

Fixed various punctuation problems.

Italics is displayed as _Collier_.

Small caps have been replaced with all caps.

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