SONG.

_Lovers rejoyce, your pains shall be rewarded,_

_The god of Love himself grieves at your crying:_

_No more shall frozen honor be regarded,_

_Nor the coy faces of a Maids denying._

_No more shall Virgins sigh, and say we dare not,_

_For men are false, and what they do they care not,_

_All shall be well again, then do not grieve,_

_Men shall be true, and Women shall believe._

_Lovers rejoyce, what you shall say henceforth._

_When you have caught your Sweet-hearts in your arms,_

_It shall be accounted Oracle, and Worth:_

_No more faint-hearted Girls shall dream of harms,_

_And cry they are too young, the god hath said,_

_Fifteen shall make a Mother of a Maid:_

_Then wise men, pull your Roses yet unblown,_

_Love hates the too ripe fruit that falls alone._

The Measure.

_After the Measure, Enter_ Nilo _and others_.

_Nilo._ No more of this: here break your Rights for ever,

The Duke commands it so; Priest do not stare,

I must deface your Temple, though unwilling,

And your god _Cupid_ here must make a Scare-crow

For any thing I know, or at the best,

Adorn a Chimney-piece.

_Priest._ Oh Sacriledge unheard of!

_Nilo._ This will not help it, take down the Image[s]

And away with 'em.

Priest, change your coat you had best, all service now

Is given to men: Prayers above their hearing

Will prove but bablings: learn to lye and thrive,

'Twill prove your best profession: for the gods,

He that lives by 'em now, must be a beggar.

There's better holiness on earth they say,

Pray God it ask not greater sacrifice. Go home,

And if [y]our god be not deaf as well as blind,

He will [make] some smoak for it.

_Gent._ Sir--

_Nilo._ Gentlemen, there is no talking,

This must be done and speedily;

I have commission that I must not break.

_Gent._ We are gone, to wonder what shall follow.

_Nilo._ On to the next Temple. [_Exeunt._

_Cornets. Descendit Cupid._

_Cupid._ Am I then scorn'd? is my all-doing Will

And Power, that knows no limit, nor admits none,

Now look'd into by less than gods? and weak'ned

Am I, whose Bow struck terror through the earth,

No less than Thunder, and in this, exceeding

Even gods themselves; whose knees before my Altars

Now shook off; and contemn'd by such, whose lives

Are but my recreation! anger rise

My sufferance and my self are made the subject

Of sins against us. Go thou out displeasure,

Displeasure of a great god, flying thy self

Through all this Kingdom: sow what ever evils

Proud flesh is [taking of], amongst these Rebels:

And on the first heart that despise my Greatness,

Lay a strange misery, that all may know

_Cupid's_ revenge is mighty; with his Arrow

Hotter than plagues or mine own anger, will I

Now nobly right my self: nor shall the prayers

Nor [sweete] smoaks on my Altars hold my hand,

Till I have left this a most wretched Land. [_Exit._

_Enter_ Hidaspes, _and Cleophila_.

_Hidas. Cleophila_, what was he that went hence?

_Cleo._ What means your Grace now?

_Hidas._ I mean that handsome man,

That something more than man I met at door.

_Cleo._ Here was no handsome man.

_Hidas._ Come, he's some one

You would preserve in private, but you want

Cunning to do it, and my eyes are sharper

Than yours, and can with one neglecting glance,

See all the graces of a man. Who was't?

_Cleo._ That went hence now?

_Hidas._ That went hence now, I, he.

_Cleo._ Faith here was no such one as your Grace thinks.

_Zoylous_ your Brothers Dwarf went out but now.

_Hidas._ I think 'twas he: how bravely he past by:

Is he not grown a goodly Gentleman?

_Cleo._ A goodly Gentleman, Madam?

He is the most deformed fellow i'the Land.

_Hidas._ Oh blasphemy: he may perhaps to thee

Appear deform'd, for he is indeed

Unlike a man: his shape and colours are

Beyond the Art of Painting; he is like

Nothing that we have seen, yet doth resemble

_Apollo_, as I oft have fancied him,

When rising from his bed, he stirs himself

And shakes day from his hair.

_Cleo._ He resembles _Apollo_'s Recorder.

_Hidas. Cleophila_, go send a Page for him,

And thou shalt see thy error, and repent. [_Exit_ Cleo.

Alas, what do I feel, my bloud rebells,

And I am one of those I us'd to scorn,

My Maiden-thoughts are fled against my self,

I harbor Traitors in my Virginity,

That from my Childhood kept me company,

Is heavier than I can endure to bear:

Forgive me _Cupid_, for thou art a god,

And I a wretched creature; I have sinn'd,

But be thou merciful, and grant that yet

I may enjoy what thou wilt have me, Love.

_Enter_ Cleo. _and_ Zoy.

[_Cleo._] _Zoylous_ is here Madam.

_Hida._ He's there indeed.

Now be thine own Judge; see thou worse than mad,

Is he deformed? look upon those eyes,

That let all pleasure out into the world,

Unhappy that they cannot see themselves;

Look on his hair, that like so many beams,

Streaking the _East_, shoot light o'er half the world,

Look on him altogether, who is made

As if two Natures had contention

About their skill, and one had brought forth him.

_Zoy._ Ha, ha, ha: Madam, though Nature

Hath not given me so much

As others in my outward shew;

I bear a heart as loyal unto you

In this unsightly body (which you please

To make your mirth) as many others do

That are far more befriended in their births;

Yet I could wish my self much more deformed

Than yet I am, so I might make your Grace

More merry than you are, ha, ha, ha.

_Hidas._ Beshrew me then if I be merry;

But I[am] content whilst thou art with me:

Thou that art my Saint:

By hope of whose mild favour I do live

To tell thee so: I pray thee scorn me not;

Alas what can it add unto thy worth

To triumph over me, that am a Maid,

Without deceit? whose heart doth guide her tongue,

Drown'd in my passions; yet I will take leave

To call it reason that I dote on thee.

_Cleo._ The Princess is besides her Grace I think,

To talk thus with a fellow that will hardly

Serve i'th' dark when one is drunk.

_Hida._ What answer wilt thou give me?

_Zoy._ If it please your Grace to jest on, I can abide it.

_Hida._ If it be jest, not to esteem my life,

Compar'd with thee: If it be jest in me,

To hang a thousand kisses in an hour

Upon those Lips, and take 'em off again:

If it be jest for me to marry thee,

And take obedience on me whilst I live:

Then all I say is jest:

For every part of this, I swear by those

That see my thoughts, I am resolv'd to do,

And I beseech thee, by thine own white hand,

(Which pardon me, that I am bold to kiss

With so unworthy Lips) that thou wilt swear

To marry me, as I do here to thee,

Before the face of heaven.

_Zoy._ Marry you? ha, ha, ha.

_Hida._ Kill me or grant, wilt thou not speak at all?

_Zoy._ Why I will do your Will for ever.

_Hida._ I ask no more: but let me kiss that mouth

That is so merciful; that is my will:

Next go with me before the King in haste,

That is my Will; where I will make our Peers

Know, that thou art their better.

_Zoy._ Ha, ha, ha, that is fine, ha, ha, ha.

_Cleo._ Madam, what means your Grace?

Consider for the love of Heaven to what

You run madly; will you take this Viper

Into your bed?

_Hida._ Away, hold off thy hands:

Strike her sweet _Zoylous_, for it is my Will,

Which thou hast sworn to doe.

_Zoy._ Away for shame.

Know you no manners: ha, ha, ha. [_Exit._

_Cleo._ Thou know'st none I fear,

This is just _Cupid_'s Anger, _Venus_ look down mildly on us:

And command thy Son to spare this Lady once, and let me

be in love with [all]: and none in love with me. [_Exit._

_Enter_ Ismenus, _and_ Timantus.

_Timan._ Is your Lordship for the Wars this Summer?

_Ismen. Timantus_, wilt thou go with me?

_Timan._ If I had a Company, my Lord.

_Ismen._ Of Fidlers: Thou a company?

No, no, keep thy Company at home, and cause cuckolds:

The Wars will hurt thy face, there's no Semsters,

Shoomakers, nor Taylors, nor Almond-milk i'th' morning,

Nor poach'd Egs to keep your worship soluble,

No man to warm your Shirt, and blow your Roses:

Nor none to reverence your round lace Breeches:

If thou wilt needs goe, and goe thus,

Get a Case for thy Captainship, a shower will spoil thee else.

Thus much for thee.

_Tim._ Your Lordship's wondrous witty, very pleasant believe't.

[_Exit._

_Enter_ Telamon, Dorialus, Agenor, Nisus, Leonti.

_Leon._ No news yet of my Son?

_Tela._ Sir, there be divers out in search:

No doubt they'll bring the truth where he is,

Or the occasion that led him hence.

_Tim._ They have good eyes then.

_Leon._ The gods goe with them:

Who be those that wait there?

_Tele._ The Lord _Ismenus_, your General, for his dispatch.

_Leon._ Oh Nephew: we have no use to imploy your

Virtue in our War: now the Province is well setled.

Hear you aught of the Marquis?

_Ismen._ No Sir.

_Leon._ 'Tis strange he should be gone thus:

These five days he was not seen.

_Tim._ I'll hold my [life], I could bolt him in an hour:

_Leon._ Where's my Daughter?

_Dori._ About the purging of the Temples, Sir.

_Leon._ She's chaste and virtuous; fetch her to me,

And tell her I am pleas'd to grant her now

Her last request, without repenting me. [_Exit_ Nis.

Be it what it will: she is wise, _Dorialus_

And will not press me farther than a Father.

_Dor._ I pray the best may follow; yet if your Grace

Had taken the opinions of your people,

At least of such, whose wisdoms ever wake

About your safety, I may say it, Sir,

Under your noble pardon: that this change

Either had been more honor to the gods,

Or I think not at all. Sir, the Princess.

_Enter_ Hidaspes, Nisus, _and_ Zoylus.

_Leon._ Oh my Daughter, my health!

And did I say my soul, I ly'd not;

Thou art so near me, speak, and have whatever

Thy wise Will leads thee too: had I a Heaven,

It were too poor a place for such a goodness.

_Dor._ What's here?

_Agen._ An Apes skin stuft I think, 'tis so plump.

_Hida._ Sir, you have past your word,

Still be a Prince, and hold you to it.

Wonder not I press you, my life lies in your word:

If you break that, you have broke my heart, I must ask

That's my shame, and your Will must not deny me:

Now for Heaven be not forsworn.

_Leon._ By the gods I will not,

I cannot, were there no other power,

Than my love call'd to a witness of it.

_Dor._ They have much reason to trust,

You have forsworn one of 'em out o'th' countrey already.

_Hida._ Then this is my request: This Gent.

Be not ashamed, Sir:

You are worth a Kingdom.

_Leon._ In what?

_Hida._ In the way of marriage.

_Leon._ How?

_Hida._ In the way of marriage, it must be so,

Your oath is ti'd to Heaven: as my love to him.

_Leon._ I know thou dost but try my age,

Come ask again.

_Hida._ If I should ask all my life-time, this is all still.

Sir, I am serious, I must have this worthy man without

enquiring why; and suddenly, and freely:

Doe not look for reason or obedience in my words:

My love admits no wisdom:

Only haste, and hope hangs on my fury,

Speak Sir, speak, but not as a Father,

I am deaf and dull to counsel: inflamed blood

Hears nothing but my Will;

For Gods sake speak.

_Dor._ Here's a brave alteration.

_Nis._ This comes of Chastity.

_Hida._ Will not you speak Sir?

_Agen._ The god begins his vengeance; what a sweet youth

he has sent us here, with a pudding in's belly!

_Leon._ Oh let me never speak,

Or with my words let me speak out my life;

Thou power abus'd: great Love, whose vengeance now we

feel and fear, have mercy on this Land.

_Nis._ How does your Grace?

_Leon._ Sick, very sick I hope.

_Dor._ Gods comfort you.

_Hida._ Will not you speak? is this your Royal word?

Do not pull perjurie upon your soul.

Sir, you are old, and near your punishment; remember.

_Leon._ Away base woman.

_Hidas._ Then be no more my Father, but a plague,

I am bound to pray against: be any sin

May force me to despair, and hang my self,

Be thy name never more remembred King

But in example of a broken faith,

And curst even to forgetfulness:

May thy Land bring forth such Monsters as thy Daughter is!

I am weary of my rage. I pray forgive me,

And let me have him, will you Noble Sir?

_Leon._ Mercy, mercy heaven:

Thou heir of all dishonor, shamest thou not to draw

This little moisture left for life, thus rudely from me?

Carry that slave to death.

_Zoy._ For heavens sake Sir, it is no fault of mine,

That she will love me.

_Leon._ To death with him, I say.

_Hida._ Then make haste Tyrant, or I'll be for him:

This is the way to Hell.

_Leon._ Hold fast, I charge you away with him.

_Hida._ Alas old man, Death hath more doors than one,

And I will meet him. [_Exit_ Hida.

_Leon. Dorialus_, Pray see her in her chamber,

And lay a guard about her:

The greatest curse the gods lay on our frailties,

Is Will and Disobedience in our Issues,

Which we beget as well as them to plague us,

With our fond loves; Beasts you are only blest

That have that happy dulness to forget

What you have made, your young ones grieve not you

They wander where they list, and have their ways

Without dishonor to you; and their ends,

Fall on 'em without sorrow of their Parents,

Or after ill remembrance: Oh this Woman

Would I had made my self a Sepulcher,

When I made her: Nephew, where is the Prince?

Pray God he have not more part of her baseness

Than of her bloud about him.

Gentlemen: where is he?

_Ism._ I know not Sir.

H'as his ways by himself, is too wise for my company.

_Leon._ I do not like this hiding of himself,

From such society as his person:

Some of it ye needs must know.

_Isme._ I am sure not I: nor have known twice this ten

days, which if I were as proud as some of 'em, I should take

scurvily, but he is a young man.

Let him have [his] swinge, 'twill make him.

[Timantus _whispers to the Duke_.

There's some good matter now in hand:

How the slave jeers and grins; the Duke is pleas'd,

There's a new pair of Scarlet Hose now, and as much

Money to spare, as will fetch the old from pawn, a Hat and

a Cloak to goe out to morrow:

Garters and Stockings come by nature.

_Leon._ Be sure of this.

_Tima._ I durst not speak else, Sir.

_Actus Secundus. Scæna Prima._

_Cornets. Descend_ Cupid.

_Cupid. Leucippus_ thou art shot through with a shaft

That will not rankle long, yet sharp enough

To sow a world of helpless misery--

In this [happie] Kingdom, dost thou think

Because thou art a Prince, to make a part

Against my power, but it is all the fault

Of thy old Father, who believes [his] age

Is cold enough to quench my burning Darts,

But he shall know e'r long, that my smart loose,

Can thaw Ice, and inflame the wither'd heart

Of _Nestor_, thou thy self art lightly struck,

But his mad love, shall publish that the rage

Of _Cupid_, has the power to conquer Age. [_Exit._

_Enter_ Bacha, _and_ Leucippus, Bacha,

_a Handkerchief_.

_Leu._ Why, what's the matter?

_Bacha._ Have you got the spoil

You thirsted for? Oh tyrannie of men!

_Leu._ I pray thee leave.

_Bacha._ Your envy is, Heaven knows,

Beyond the reach of all our feeble sex:

What pain alas, could it have been to you,

If I had kept mine honor? you might still

Have been a Prince, and still this Countreys Heir,

That innocent Guard which I till now had kept,

For my defence, my virtue, did it seem

So dangerous in a State, that your self came to suppress it?

_Leu._ Drie thine eyes again, I'll kiss thy tears away,

This is but folly, 'tis past all help.

_Bacha._ Now you have won the treasure,

'Tis my request that you would leave me thus:

And never see these empty Walls again,

I know you will do so, and well you may:

For there is nothing in 'em that's worth

A glance, I loath my self, and am become

Another Woman; One methinks with whom

I want acquaintance.

_Leu._ If I do offend thee, I can be gone,

And though I love thy sight, so highly do I prize thine own

content, that I will leave thee.

_Bac._ Nay, you may stay now;

You should have gone before: I know not now

Why I should fear you: All I should have kept

Is stol'n: Nor is it in the power of man

To rob me farther: if you can invent,

Spare not; No naked man fears robbing less

Than I doe: now you may for ever stay.

_Leu._ Why, I could do thee farther wrong.

_Bac._ You have a deeper reach in evill than I:

'Tis past my thoughts.

_Leu._ And past my will to act: but trust me I could do it.

_Bac._ Good Sir do, that I may know there is a wrong

beyond what you have done me.

_Leu._ I could tell all the world what thou hast done.

_Bac._ Yes you may tell the world

And do you think I am so vain to hope

You will not? you can tell the world but this,

That I am a widow, full of tears in shew,

My Husband dead: And one that lov'd me so,

Hardly a week, forgot my modestie,

And caught with youth and greatness,

Gave my self to live in sin with you;

This you may tell: And this I do deserve.

_Leu._ Why dost thou think me so base to tell!

These limbs of mine shall part

From one another on a wrack,

Ere I disclose; But thou dost utter words

That much afflict me: you did seem as ready

Sweet _Bacha_, as my self.

_Bac._ You are right a man: when they have 'witcht us

into miserie, poor innocent souls,

They lay the fault on us:

But be it so; for Prince _Leucippus_ sake

I will bear any thing.

_Leucip._ Come weep no more,

I wrought thee to it, it was my fault:

Nay, see if thou wilt leave? Here, take this pearl,

Kiss me sweet _Bacha_, and receive this purse.

_Bacha._ What should I do with these? they will not

deck my mind.

_Leucip._ Why keep 'em to remember me.

I must be gone, I have been absent long:

I know the Duke my Father is in rage,

But I will see thee suddenly again.

Farewell my _Bacha_.

_Bacha._ Gods keep you,

Do you he[a]re Sir: pray give me a point to wear.

_Leu._ Alas good _Bacha_, take on[e], I pray thee where thou wilt.

_Bac._ Coming from you. This Point is of as high

Esteem with me, as all pearl and gold: nothing but good

be ever with or near you.

_Leu._ Fare thee well mine own good _Bacha_;

I will make all haste. [_Exit._

_Bacha._ Just as you are a Dosen I [e]steem you:

No more, does he think I would prostitute

My self for love? it was the love of these pearls

And gold that won me, I confess

I lust more after him than any other,

And would at any rate if I had store,

Purchase his fellowship: but being poor,

I'll both enjoy his bodie and his purse,

And he a _Prince_, nere think my self the worse.

_Enter Leontius, Leucippus, Ismenus, Timantus._

_Leon._ Nay, you must back and shew us what it is,

That 'witches you out of your Honor thus.

_Bacha._ Who's that?

_Tima._ Look there Sir.

_Leon._ Lady, never flye you are betray'd.

_Bacha._ Leave me my tears a while,

And to my Just rage give a little place:

What saucy man are you, that without leave,

Enter upon a Widows mournfull house?

You hinder a dead man from many tears.

Who did deserve more than the world can shed,

Though they should weep themselves to Images.

If not for love of me, yet of your self

Away, for you can bring no [comfort] to me.

But you may carry hence, you know not what.

Nay sorrow is infectious.

_Leon._ Thou thy self

Art grown infectious: wouldst thou know my name?

I am the Duke, father to this young-man

Whom thou corrupt'st.

_Bacha._ Has he th[e]n told him all?

_Leuc._ You do her wrong Sir.

_Bacha._ O he has not told. Sir I beseech you pardon

My wild tongue, directed by a weak distemper'd head

Madded with grief: Alas I did not know

You were my Sovereign; but now you may

Command my poor unworthy life,

Which will be none I hope ere long.

_Leon._ All thy dissembling will never hide thy shame:

And wer't not more respecting Womanhood in

General, than any thing in thee, thou shouldst

Be made such an example, that posteritie,

When they would speak most bitterly, should say,

_Thou art as impudent as Bacha was_.

_Bacha._ Sir, though you be my King, whom I will

Serve in all just causes: yet when wrongfully

You seek to take my Honor, I will rise

Thus, and defie you; for it is a Jewell

Dearer than you can give, which whilst I keep,

(Though in this lowly house) I shall esteem

My self above the Princes of the earth

That are without it. If the Prince your son,

Whom you accuse me with, know how to speak

Dishonor of me, if he do not do it,

The plagues of hell light on him, may he never

Govern this Kingdome: here I chalenge him

Before the face of heaven, my Liege, and these,

To speak the worst he can: if he will lye,

To lose a womans fame, I'll say he is

Like you (I think I cannot call him worse.)

He's dead, that with his life would have defended

My reputation and I forct to play

(That which I am) the foolish woman,

And use my liberal tongue.

_Leu._ Is't possible! we men are children in our

Carriages, compar'd with women: 'wake thy self

For shame, and leave not her whose honor thou

Shou'dst keep safe as thine own, alone to free her self:

But I am prest I know not how, with guilt,

And feel my conscience (never us'd to lye)

Loth to allow my tongue to add a lye

To that too much I did: but it is lawfull

To defend her, that only for my Love lov'd evill.

_Leon._ Tell me, why did you _Leucip_: stay here so long?

_Leu._ If I can urge ought from me but a truth,

Hell take me.

_Leon._ What's the matter, why speak you not?

_Tima._ Alas good Sir, forbear

To urge the Prince, you see his shamefastness.

_Bacha._ What does he say Sir? if thou be a Prince

Shew it, and tell the truth.

_Ismen._ If you have lain with her tell your Father

No doubt but he has done as ill before now:

The Gentlewoman will be proud on't.

_Bacha._ For God's sake speak.

_Leu._ Have you done prating yet?

_Ismen._ Who prates?

_Leu._ Thou know'st I do not speak to thee _Ismenus_:

But what said you _Tima_; concerning my shamefastness?

_Tima._ Nothing I hope that might displease your

Highness.

_Leu._ If any of thy great, Great-grandmothers

This thousand years, had been as chast as she,

It would have made thee honester, I stay'd

To he[a]re what you wou'd say: she is by heaven

Of the most strict and blameless chastitie

That ever woman was: (good gods forgive me)

Had _Tarquin_, met with her, she had been kil'd

With a Slave by her ere she had agreed:

I lye with her! wou'd I might perish then.

Our Mothers, whom we all must reverence,

Could nere exceed her for her chastitie,

Upon my soul: for by this light she's

A most obstinate modest creature.

_Leon._ What did you with her then so long _Leucippus_?

_Leu._ I'll tell you Sir: You see she's beautifull.

_Leon._ I see it well.

_Leu._ Mov'd by her face,

I came with lustful thoughts,

Which was a fault in me:

But telling truth, something more pardonable,

(And for the world I will not lye to you:)

Proud of my self, I thought a Princes name

Had power to blow 'em down flat of their backs;

But here I found a Rock not to be shook:

For as I hope for good Sir, all the battery

That I could lay to her, or of my person,

My greatness, or gold, could nothing move her.

_Leon._ 'Tis very strange, being so young and fair.

_Leu._ She's almost thirty Sir.

_Leon._ How do you know her age so just?

_Leu._ She told it me her self

Once when she went about to shew by reason

I should leave wooing her.

_Leon._ She stains the ripest Virgins of her age.

_Leu._ If I had sin'd with her, I would be loth

To publish her disgrace: but by my life

I would have told it you, because I think

You would have pardon'd me the rather:

And I will tell you father: By this light Sir,

(But that I never will bestow my self

But to your liking) if she now would have me,

I now would marry her.

_Leon._ How's that _Leucippus_!

_Leu._ Sir, will you pardon me one fault, which yet

I have not done, but had a will to do, and I will tell it?

_Leon._ Be't what it will I pardon thee.

_Leu._ I offered marriage to her.

_Leon._ Did she refuse it?

_Leucip._ With that earnestn[e]ss, and almost scorn

To think of any other after her lost Mate, that she

Made me think my self unworthy of her.

_Leon._ You have stay'd too long _Leucippus_.

_Leu._ Yes Sir, forgive me Heaven, what multitude

Of oaths have I bestow'd on lies, and yet they were

Officious lyes, there was no malice in 'em.

_Leon._ She is the fairest creature that ever I beheld;

And then so chaste, 'tis wonderfull: the more I look

On her, the more I am amaz'd.

I have long thought of a wife, and one I would have

Had, but that I was afraid to meet a woman

That might abuse my age: but here she is

Whom I may trust to; of a chastitie

Impregnable, and approved so by my son:

The meaness of her birth will still preserve her

In due obedience; and her beauty is

Of force enough to pull me back to youth.

My son once sent away, whose rivall-ship

I have just cause to fear, if power, o[r] gold,

Or wit, can win her to me, she is mine.

Nephew _Ismenus_, I have new intelligence,

Your Province is unquiet still.

_Ismen._ [Ime] glad on't.

_Leon._ And so dangerously, that I must send the

Prince in person with you.

_Ismen._ [Ime] glad of that too: Sir, will you dispatch us

We shall wither here for ever.

_Leon._ You shall be dispatcht within this hour:

_Leucippus_, never wonder, nor ask, it must be thus.

Lady I ask your pardon, whose virtue I have

Slubberd with my tongue, and you shall ever be

Chast in my memory hereafter;

But we old men often doat: to make amends for

My great fault, receive that Ring:

I'm sorry for your grief, may it soon leave you:

Come my Lords lets begon. [_Exeunt._

_Bacha._ Heaven bless your Grace.

One that had but so much modestie left, as to blush,

Or shrink a little at his first encounter,

Had been undone; where I come off with honor,

And gain too: they that never wou'd be tract

In any course, by the most subtle sense

Must bear it through with frontless impudence. [_Exit._

_Enter Dorialus, Agenor, Nisus._

_Dor._ Gentlemen this is a strange peece of Justice,

To put the wretched Dwarf to death because

She doated on him; Is she not a woman, and

Subject to those mad figaries her whole Sex

Is infected with? Had she lov'd you, or you, or I,

Or all on's (as indeed the more the merryer still

With them) must we therefore have our heads par'd

With a Hatchet? So she may love all the Nobility

Out o'th Dukedome in a month, and let the raskals in.

_Nis._ You will not, or you do not see the need

That makes this just to the world?

_Dor._ I cannot tell, I would be loth to feel it:

But the best is, she loves not proper men, we three

Were in wise cases else: but make me know this need.

[_N]is._ Why yes: He being taken away, this base incontinence

dyes presently, and she must see her shame and sorrow for it.

_Dor._ Pray God she do: but was the Sprat beheaded, Or did they

swing him about like a chickin, and so break his neck?

_Agen._ Yes, he was beheaded, and a solemn Justice made of it.

_Dor._ That might have been deducted.

_Agenor._ Why how would you have had him dyed?

_Dori._ Faith I would have had him rosted like a warden in a

brown paper, and no more talk on't: or a feather stuck in's

head, like a Quail: or a hanged him in a Dog-coller: what

should he be beheaded? we shall have it grow so base shortly,

Gentlemen will be out of love with it.

_Nis._ I wonder from whence this of the Dwarf's first sprung?

_Dor._ From an old leacherous pair of breeches that lay upon a

wench to keep her warm: for certainly they are no mans work:

and I am sure a Monkey would get one of the guard to this

fellow, he was no bigger than a small Portmanteu, and much

about that making if'tad legs.

_Age._ But Gentlemen, what say you to the _Prince_?

_Nis._ I, concerning his being sent I know not whither.

_Dorialus._ Why then he will come home I know not when: you

shall pardon me, I'll talk no more of this subject, but say,

gods be with him where ere he is, and send him well home again:

For why, he is gone, or when he will return, let them know that

directed him: Only this, there's mad Morisco's in the state;

but what they are, I'll tell you when I know. Come, let's go,

hear all, and say nothing.

_Agen._ Content. [_Exeunt._

_Enter Timantus, and Telamon._

_Tela. Timantus_, is the _Duke_ ready yet?

_Tima._ Almost.

_Tela._ What ails him?

_Tima._ Faith I know not, I think he has dreamt he's but

eighteen: has been wors[e] since he sent you forth for the

frizling iron.

_Tel._ That cannot be, he lay in Gloves all night, and this

morning I brought him a new _Periwig_, with a lock at it, and

knockt up a swing in's chamber.

_Tim._ O but since, his Taylor came, and they have fallen out

about the fashion on's cloaths: and yonders a fellow come, has

board a hole in's ear; and he has bespoke a Vaulting-horse, you

shall see him come forth presently: he looks like Winter, stuck

here and there with fresh flowers.

_Tela._ Will he not Tilt think you?

_Tima._ I think he will.

_Tela._ What does he mean to doe?

_Tim._ I know not: but by this light I think he is in love; he

wou'd ha' bin shav'd but for me.

_Tela._ In love with whom?

_Tim._ I could guess, but you shall pardon me: he will take me

along with him some-whither.

_Tela._ I overheard him ask your opinion of some bodies beauty.

_Tima._ Yes, there it goes, that makes him so youthfull, and

h'as layd by his Crutch, and halts now with a leading staff.

_Enter Leontine with a staff and a looking glass._

_Leon. Timantus_.

_Tim._ Sir.

_Leon._ This Feather is not large enough.

_Tim._ Yes faith, 'tis such [a] one as the rest of the young

Gallants wear.

_Leon. Telamon_, does it doe well?

_Tela._ Sir, it becomes you, or you become it, the rareliest--

_Leon._ Away, dost think so?

_Tela._ Think Sir? I know it. Sir, the _Princess_, is past all

hope of life since the Dwarf was put to death.

_Leon._ Let her be so, I have other matters in hand: but this

same Taylor angers me, he has made my doublet so wide: and see,

the knave has put no points at my arme.

_Tima._ Those will be put to quickly Sir, upon any occasion.

_Leon. Telamon_, have you bid this Dancer come a mornings?

_Tela._ Yes Sir.

_Leon. T[i]mantus_, let me see the glass again: look you how

careless you are grown, is this tooth well put in?

_Tima._ Which Sir?

_Leon._ This Sir.

_Tima._ It shall be.

_Telam._ Me thinks that tooth should put him in mind on's

years: and _Timantus_, stands as if (seeing the _Duke_, in such

a youthfull habit) he were looking in's mouth how old he were.

_Leon._ So, so.

_Tela._ Will you have your Gown sir?

_Leon._ My Gown? why, am I sick? bring me my Sword. [_Exit

Tela._

[_Timantus_,] Let a couple of the great horses be brought out

for us.

_Tima._ He'll kill himself. Why, will you ride Sir:

_Leon._ Ride? Dost thou think I cannot ride?

_Timan._ O yes Sir, I know it: but as I conceive your journey,

you wou'd have it private; and then you were better take a

Coach.

_Leon._ These Coaches make me sick: yet 'tis no matter, let it

be so.

_Enter Telamon with a sword._

_Tel._ Sir, here's your sword.

_Leon._ O well sed: let me see it, I could me thinks

Why _Telamon_, bring me another: what, thinkst thou

I will wear a sword in vain?

_Tela._ He has not strength enough to draw it,

A yoak of Fleas ty'd to a hair would have drawn it.

'Tis out sir now, the Scabbard is broke.

_Leon._ O put it up again, and on with it; me thinks I

am not drest till I feel my sword on.

_Telamon_, if any of my counsell aske for me,

Say I am gone to take the air.

_Tima._ He has not been drest this twenty years then, If

this vain hold but a week, he will learn to play o'th base

violl and sing to't: He's poetical alreadie;

For I have spide a Sonnet on's making lye by's beds side,

I'll be so unmannerly to read it. [_Exit._

_Enter Hidaspes, Cleophila, and Hero, Hidaspes in a Bed._

[_Hida._] He's dead, he's dead, and I am following.

_Cleo._ Ask _Cupid_ mercie Madam.

_Hida._ O my heart.

_Cleo._ Help!

_Hero._ Stir her:

_Hida._ O, O!

_Cleo._ She's going, wretched wom[e]n that we are:

Look to her, and I'll pray the while.

_Hero._ Why Madam? [_Shee kneels._

_Cleo. Cupid_, pardon what is past,

And forgive our sins at last,

Then we will be coy no more,

But thy Deity Adore,

Troths at fifteen we will plight,

And will tread a Dance [each] night.

In the fields, or by the Fire,

With the youths that have desire. (_How does she yet?_)

_Hero._ O ill:

_Cleo._ Given Ear-rings we will wear,

Bracelets of our Lovers hair,

Which they on our Arms shall twist,

With their Names carv'd on our wrist:

All the money that we owe,

We in Tokens will bestow:

And learn to write, that when 'tis sent,

Onely our Loves know what it meant:

O then pardon what is past,

And forgive our Sins at last. (_What, Mends she?_)

_Hero._ Nothing, you do it not wantonly, you shou'd sing.

[_Cleo._ Why?

_Hero._ Leave, leave, 'tis now too late.

Shee is dead: Her last is breathed.]

_Cleo._ What shall we doe.

_Hero._ Go run,

And tell the _Duke_; And whilst I'll close her eyes.

Thus I shut thy faded light,

And put it in eternall night.

Where is she can boldly say

Though she be as fresh as _May_:

She shall not by this Corps be laid,

Ere to morrows light doe fade.

Let us all now living be,

Warn'd by thy strict Chastitie;

And marry all fast as we can,

Till then we keep a piece of man,

Wrongfully from them that owe it

Soon may every Maid bestow it. [_Exeunt._

_Enter Bacha and a Maid._

_Bac._ Who is it?

_Maid._ Forsooth there's [a] gallant Coach at the dore,

And the brave old man in't, that you said was the _Duke_.

_Bacha. Cupid_, grant he may be taken. _Away_:

_Maid._ He is coming up, and looks the swaggeringst, and has

such glorious cloaths.

_Bac._ Let all the house see me sad, and see all handsome.

_Enter Leontius, and Timantus, a Jewell and a Ring._

_Leon._ Nay widow flie not back, we come not now to chide,

stand up and bid me welcome.

_Bac._ To a poor widows house that knows no end of her ill

fortune: your Highness is most welcome.

_Leon._ Come kiss me then, this is but manners widow: Nere

fling your head aside, I have more cause of grief than you: my

Daughters dead: but what? 'Tis nothing. Is the rough _French_

horse brought to the dore? They say he is a high goer, I shall

soon try his mettle.

_Tim._ He will be Sir, and the gray _Barbary_, they are fiery

both.

_Leon._ They are the better: Before the gods I am lightsome,

very lightsome: How doest thou like me widow?

_Bach._ As a person in whom all graces are.

_Leon._ Come, come, ye flatter: I'll clap your cheek for that,

and you shall not be angry.

Hast no _Musick_: Now could I cut three times with ease, and do

a cross point, should shame all your gallants.

_Bacha._ I do believe you, and your self too: Lord what a fine

old _Zany_ my Love has made him! 'Is mine, I am sure: Heaven

make me thankful for him.

[_Leon._] Tell me how old thou art, my pretty sweet heart?

_Timantus._ Your Grace will not buy her, she may trip Sir?

_Bacha._ My sorrow showes me elder then I am by many years.

_Leon._ Thou art so witty I must kiss agen.

_Tima._ Indeed her Age lyes not in her mouth: nere look it

there Sir, she has a better Register, if it be not burnt.

_Leon._ I will kiss thee, I am a fire _Timantus_.

_Tima._ Can you chuse Sir, having such heavenly fire before you?

_Leon._ Widow, guess why I come, I prethee do.

_Bacha._ I cannot Sir, unless you be pleas'd to make a mirth

out of my rudeness: and that I hope your pity will not let ye,

the subject is so Barren: Bite King, Bite, I'll let you play a

while.

_Leon._ Now as I am an honest man, I'll tell thee truely, how

many foot did I Jump yesterday _Timantus_?

_Tim._ Fourteen of your own, and some three fingers.

_Bacha._ This fellow lyes as lightly, as if hee were in cut

Taffata.

Alas good Almanack get thee to Bed, and tell what

weather we shall have to morrow.

_Leon._ Widow I am come in short to be a Suiter.

_Bacha._ For whom?

_Leon._ Why by my troth, I come to wooe thee wench:

And win thee for my self: Nay, look upon me:

I have about me that will do it.

_Bac._ Now Heaven defend me, your Whore [you] shall never:

I thank the Gods, I have a little left me to keep me warm,

and honest: if your grace take not that, I seek no more.

_Leon._ I am so far from taking any thing, I'll add unto

thee.

_Bach._ Such Additions may be for your ease Sir,

Not my honestie: I am well in being single, good Sir seek

another, I am no meat for money.

_Leon._ Shall I fight for thee?

This sword shall cut his throat, that dars lay claim

But to a Finger of thee, but to a look, I would

See such a fellow.

_Bac._ It would be but a cold sight to you:

This is the father of _S. George_ a foot-back,

Can such dry mumming talk.

_Tim._ Before the gods, your grace lookes like _Æneas_.

_Bac._ He looks like his old father upon his back,

Crying to get Aboord.

_Leon._ How shall I win thy love, I pray thee tell me?

I'll marry thee if thou desirest that: That is an honest

Course, I am in good earnest, and presently within this hour,

[I] am mad for thee: prethee deny me not,

For as I live I'll pine thee, but I'll have thee.

_Bacha._ Now he's in the Toyl, I'll hold him fast.

_Tima._ You do not know what 'tis to be a Queen,

Go too you Maid, else what the old man falls short of,

there's others can eech out, when you please to call on 'em.

_Bacha._ I understand you not, Love I adore thee,

Sir, on my knees I give you hearty thanks, for so much

Honoring your humble Hand-mayd above her birth:

Far more her weak deservings, I dare not trust the Envious

tongues of all that must repine at my unworthy rising.

Beside, you have many fair ones in your Kingdome

Born to such worth: O turn your self about

And make a Noble choice.

_Leon._ If I do, let me famish: I will have thee,

Or break up house, and boord here.

_Bac._ Sir, you may command an unwilling woman to obey ye: but

heaven knows--

_Leon._ No more: these half a dozen kisses, and this Jewell,

and every thing I have, and away with me, and clap it up; and

have a boy by morning _Timantus_. let one be sent post for my

son again: and for _Ismenus_, they are scarce twenty miles on

their way yet, by that time we'll be married.

_Tima._ There shall Sir. [_Exeunt._

_Actus Tertii. Scæna Prima._

_Enter Dorialus, Agenor, Nisus._

_Nisus._ Is not this a fine marriage?

_Agenor._ Yes, yes, let it alone.

_Dor._ I, I, the King may marry whom's list, let's talk of

other matters.

_Nis._ Is the _Prince_ coming home certainly?

_Dor._ Yes, yes, he was sent post for yesterday, lets make

haste we'll see how his new Mother-in-law will entertain him.

_Nis._ Why well I warrant you: did you not mark how humbly she

carried her self to us on her marriage day, acknowledging her

own unworthiness, and that she would be our servant.

_Dor._ But mark what's done.

_Nis._ Regard not shew.

_Age._ O God! I knew her when I have been off'red her to be

brought to my bed for five [pound]: whether it could have been

perform'd or no, I know not.

_Nis._ Her Daughters a pretty Lady.

_Dor._ Yes: and having had but mean bringing up, it talks the

pretilest and innocentliest, the Queen will be so angry to hear

her betray her breeding by her language: but I am perswaded

she's well dispos'd.

_Agenor._ I think better than her Mother.

_Nis._ Come, we stay too long. [_Exeunt._

_Enter Leucippus, and Ismenus._

_Isme._ How now man, strook dead with a tale?

_Leu._ No, but with a truth.

_Isme._ Stand [of] your self: can you endure blows, and shrink

at words?

_Leu._ Thou knowst I have told thee all.

_Isme._ But that all's nothing to make you thus: your Sisters

dead.

_Leu._ That's much, but not the most.

_Isme._ Why, for the other let her marry and hang, 'tis no

purpos'd fault of yours: and if your Father will needs have

your cast Whore, you shall shew the duty of a child better in

being contented, and bidding much good doe his good old heart

with her, than in repining thus at it; let her go: what, there

are more wenches man, we'll have another.

_Leu._ O thou art vain, thou knowst I doe not love her:

What shall I doe? I would my tongue had led me

To any other thing, but blasphemy,

So I had mist commending of this woman,

Whom I must reverence now: she is my Mother,

My sin _Ismenus_ has wrought all this ill:

And I beseech thee, to be warn'd by me,

And doe not lye, if any man should aske thee

But _How thou dost_, or _What a clock 'tis now_.

Be sure thou doe not lye, make no excuse

For him that is most near thee: never let

The most officious falsehood scape thy tongue,

For they above (that are intirely truth)

Will make that seed, which thou hast sown

Of lyes, yield miseries a thousand fold

Upon thine head, as they have done on mine.

_Enter Timantus._

_Tim._ Sir, your Highness is welcome home, the _Duke_ and

_Queen_ will presently come forth to you.

_Leu._ I'll wait on them.

_Tima._ Worthy _Ismenus_, I pray you, have you sped in your

wars?

_Isme._ This Rogue mocks me. Well _Timantus_, Pray how have you

sped here at [home] at shovelboord?

_Tim._ Faith reasonable. How many Towns have you taken in this

Summer?

_Isme._ How many Stags have you been at the death of this grass?

_Tima._ A number: 'Pray how is the Province settled?

_Isme._ Prethee how does the dun Nag?

_Tim._ I think you mock me my Lord.

_Isme._ Mock thee? Yes by my troth doe I: why what wouldst thou

have me doe with thee? Art good for any thing else?

_Enter Leontius, Bacha, Dorialus, Agenor, Nisus, Telamon._

_Leu._ My good _Ismenus_, hold me by the wrist:

And if thou see'st me fainting, wring me hard,

For I shall swoon again else.-- [_Kneels._

_Leon._ Welcome my son; rise, I did send for thee

Back from the province, by thy Mothers counsell,

Thy good Mother here, who loves thee well:

She would not let me venture all my joy

Amongst my enemies: I thank thee for her,

And none but thee, I took her on thy word.

_Leucip._ Pinch harder.

_Leon._ And she shall bid thee welcome: I have now

Some near affairs, but I will drink a Health

To thee anon: Come _Telamon_, [Ime] grown

Lustier, I thank thee for't, since I marryed;

I can stand now alone, why _Telamon_,

And never stagger. [_Exit Leontius, Telamon._

_Bac._ Welcome most noble Sir, whose fame is come

Hither before you: out alas you scorn me,

And teach me what to doe.

_Leu._ No, you are my Mother.

_Bacha._ Far unworthy of that name God knows:

But trust me, here before these Lords,

I am no more but Nurse unto the _Duke_;

Nor will I breed a faction in the State,

It is too much for me that I am rais'd

Unto his bed, and will remain the servant

Of you that did it.

_Leu._ Madam I will serve you

As shall become me. O dissembling woman!

Whom I must reverence though. Take from thy

Quiver, sure-aim'd _Apollo_; one of thy swift darts,

Headed with thy consuming golden beams,

And let it melt this body into mist,

That none may find it.

_Bac._ Shall I beg my Lords

This Room in private for the _Prince_ and me?

[_Exeunt all but Leu. and Bach._

_Leu._ What will she say now?

_Bach._ I must still enjoy him:

Yet there is still left in me a spark of woman,

That wishes he [w]ould move it, but he stands,

As if he grew there with his eyes on earth,

Sir, you and I when we were last together

Kept not this distance as we were afraid

Of blasting by our selves.

_Leu._ Madam 'tis true, Heaven pardon it.

_Bach._ Amen Sir.

You may think that I have done you wrong in this strange marriage.

_Leu._ 'Tis past now.

_Bach._ But it was no fault of mine:

The world had call'd me mad, had I refus'd

The King: nor layd I any train to catch him,

It was your own Oaths did it.

_Leu._ 'Tis a truth: that takes my sleep away, but

Would to Heaven, if it had so been pleas'd, you had

Refus'd him, though I had gratifi'd that courtesie

With having you my self: But since 'tis thus,

I doe beseech you that you will be honest

From henceforth; and not abuse his credulous Age,

Which you may easily doe. As for my self

What I can say, you know alas too well

Is ty'd within me, here it will sit like lead,

But shall offend no other, it will pluck me

Back from my ent'rance into any mirth,

As if a servant came, and whisper'd with me

Of some friends death, but I will bear my self,

To you, with all the due obedience

A son owes to a Mother: more than this,

Is not in me, but I must leave the rest to the

Just gods: who in their blessed time,

When they have given me punishment enough,

For my rash Sin, will mercifully find

As unexpected means to ease my grief

As they did now to bring it.

_Bac._ Grown so godly? this must not be.

And I will be to you, no other than a natural Mother ought;

And for my honesty, so you will swear

Never to urge me, I shall keep it safe from any other.

_Leu._ Bless me I should urge you?

_Bacha._ Nay but swear then that I may be at peace,

For I doe feel a weakness in my self,

That can denie you nothing, if you tempt me,

I shall embrace Sin as it were a friend, and run to meet it.

_Leu._ If you knew how far

It were from me, you would not urge an Oath.

But for your satisfaction, when I tempt you.

_Bac._ Swear not: I cannot move him, this sad talk

Of things past help, does not become us well.

Shall I send one for my _Musicians_, and we'll dance?

_Leu._ Dance Madam?

_Bac._ Yes, _Alavalta_.

_Leu._ I cannot dance Madam.

_Bac._ Then lets be merry.

_Leu._ I am as my _Fortunes_ bid me.

Do not you see me sowr?

_Bac._ Yes.

And why think you I smile?

_Leu._ I am so far from any joy my self,

I cannot fancie a cause of mirth.

_Bac._ I'll tell you, we are alone:

_Leu._ Alone?

_Bac._ Yes.

_Leu._ 'Tis true: what then?

_Bac._ What then? you make my smiling now

Break into laughter: what think you is to be done then?

_Leu._ We shou'd pray to Heaven for mercy.

_Bacha._ Pray? that were a way indeed

To pass the time: but I will make you blush,

To see a bashfull woman teach a man

What we should doe alone: try again

If you can find it out.

_Leu._ I dare not think I understand you.

_Bac._ I must teach you then; Come, kiss me.

_Leu._ Kiss you?

_Bac._ Yes, be not asham'd:

You did it not your self, I will forgive you.

_Leuc._ Keep you displeas'd gods, the due respect

I ought to bear unto this wicked woman,

As she is now my Mother, Haste within me,

Lest I add sins to sins, till no repentance will cure me.

_Bac._ Leave these melancholly moods,

That I may swear thee welcome on thy Lipps

A thousand times.

_Leuc._ Pray leave this wicked talk,

You doe not know to what my Fathers wrong

May urge me.

_Bac._ I'm careless, and doe weigh

The world, my life, and all my after hopes

Nothing without thy Love, mistake me not:

Thy Love, as I have had it, free and open

As wedlock is, within it self, what say you?

_Leu._ Nothing.

_Bac._ Pitty me, behold a Duchess

Kneels for thy mercie, and I swear to you

Though I should lye with you, it is no Lust,

For it desires no change, I could with you

Content my self; what answer will you give?

_Leuc._ They that can answer must be less amaz'd,

Than I am now: you see my tears deliver

My meaning to you.

_Bac._ Shall I be contem'd? thou art a beast, worse than a

savage beast,

To let a Lady kneel, to beg that thing

Which a right man would offer.

_Leu._ 'Tis your will Heaven: but let me bear me like

My self, how ever she does.

_Bac._ Were you made an _Eunuch_, since you went hence?

Yet they have more desire than I can find in you:

How fond was I to beg thy love! I'll force thee to my will

Dost thou not know that I can make the King

Dote as my list? yield quickly, or by Heaven

I'll have thee kept in prison for my purpose,

Where I will make thee serve my turn, and have thee fed

With such meats as best shall fit my ends

And not thy health, why dost not speak to me?

And when thou dost displease me, and art grown

Less able to perform; then I will have thee

Kill'd and forgotten: Are you striken dumb?

_Leu._ All you have nam'd but making of me sin

With you, you may command, but never that;

Say what you will, I'll hear you as becomes me,

If you speak, I will not follow your counsell,

Neither will I tell the world to your disgrace,

But give you the just honor

That is due from me to my Father's wife.

_Bac._ Lord how full of wise formality you [are] grown

Of late: but you were telling me

You could have wisht that I had marry'd you,

If you will swear so yet, I'll make away the King.

_Leuc._ You are a strumpet.

_Bacha._ Nay, I care not

For all your Railings: They will Batter walls

And take in Towns, as soon as trouble me:

Tell him, I care not, I shall undoe you only, which is no matter.

_Leu._ I appeal to you still, and for ever, that are

And cannot be other, Madam, I see 'tis in your power

To work your will on him: And I desire you

To lay what trains you will for my wish'd death,

But suffer him to find his quiet grave

In peace; Alas he never did you wrong,

And farther I beseech you pardon me,

For the ill word I gave you, for how ever

You may deserve, it became not me

To call you so, but passion urges me

I know not whither: my heart break now, & ease me ever.

_Bacha._ Pray you get you hence

With your goodly humor, I am weary of you extreamely:

_Leu._ Trust me, so am I of my self too:

Madam, I'll take my leave; gods set all right.

_Bacha._ Amen, Sir, get you gon;

Am I deny'd? it does not trouble me

That I have mov'd, but that I am refus'd:

I have lost my patience: I will make him know

Lust is not Love, for Lust will find a mate

While there are men, and so will I: and more

_Enter_ Timantus.

Than one, or twenty: yonder is _Timantus_,

A fellow void of any worth, to raise himself,

And therefore like to catch at any evil

That will but pluck him up: him will I make

Mine own: _Timantus_.

_Timantus._ Madam?

_Bac._ Thou know'st well

Thou wert by chance, a means of this my raising:

Brought the Duke to me, and though 'twere but chance

I must reward thee.

_Tim._ I shall bend my service unto your Highness.

_Bacha._ But do it then entirely, and in every thing,

And tell me, couldst thou now think that thing

Thou wouldst not do for me?

_Timant._ No by my soul Madam.

_Bacha._ Then thou art right.

Go to my Lodging, and I'll follow thee. [_Exit_ Timantus.

With my instruction I do see already,

This Prince that did but now contemn me, dead:

Yet will I never speak an evil word

Unto his Father of him, till I have won

A belief, I love him, but I'll make

His virtues his undoing, and my praises

Shall be so many swords against his breast,

Which once perform'd, I'll make _Urania_

My Daughter, the Kings heir, and plant my issue

In this large Throne: nor shall it be withstood,

They that begin in Lust, must end in Blood. [_Exit._

_Enter_ Dorialus, Agenor, Nisus.

_Doria._ We live to know a fine time, Gentl.

_Nis._ And a fine Duke, that through his doting age

Suffers him to be a child again

Under his Wives tuition.

_Agen._ All the Land holds in that tenor too: in womans

service? sure we shall learn to spinn.

_Dor._ No, that's too honest: we shall have other

Liberal Sciences taught us too soon;

Lying, and flattering, those are the studies now:

And Murther shortly I know, will be humanity, Gent.

If we live here we must be knaves, believe it.

_Nisus._ I cannot tell my Lord _Dorialus_, though my

Own nature hate it, if all determine to be knaves,

I'll try what I can do upon my self: that's certain,

I will not have my throat cut for my goodness,

The virtue will not quit the pain.

_Age._ But pray you tell me,

Why is the _Prince_, now ripe and full experient,

Not made a dore in the State?

_Nis._ Because he is honest.

_Enter Timantus._

_Tim._ Goodness attend your Honors.

_Dor._ You must not be amongst us then.

_Tim._ The _Dutchess_, whose humble servant I am proud to be,

would speak with you.

_Age._ Sir, we are pleas'd to wait: when is it?

_Tim._ An hour hence my good Lords, and so I leave my service.

_Dor._ This is one of her Ferrets that she bolts business out

withall: this fellow, if he were well ript, has all the linings

of a knave within him: how slye he looks!

_Nis._ Have we nothing about our cloaths that he may catch at?

_Agenor._ O my conscience, there's no treason in my dublet, if

there be, my elbows will discover it, they are out.

_Dor._ Faith, and all the harm that I can find in mine is,

that they are not pay'd for; let him make what he can of that,

so he discharge that. Come, let's go. [_Exeunt._

_Enter Bach, Leontius, Tella._

_Bac._ And you shall find Sir what [a] blessing heaven gave you

in such a son.

_Le._ Pray _gods_, I may, Let's walk & change our subject.

_Bac._ O Sir, can any thing come sweeter to you, or strike a

deeper joy into your heart than your son's virtue?

_Leon._ I allow his virtues: but 'tis not handsome thus to feed

my self with such moderate praises of mine own.

_Bac._ The subject of our comendations is it self grown so

infinite in goodness, that all the glory we can lay upon it,

though we should open volumes of his praises, is a mere modesty

in his expression, and shews him lame still, like an ill

wrought peece wanting proportion.

_Leo._ Yet still he is a man, and subject still to more

inordinate vices, than our love can give him blessing.

_Bac._ Else he were a _god_: yet so near as he is, he comes to

heaven, that we may see so far as flesh can point us things

only worthy them, and only these in all his actions.

_Leon._ This is too much my Queen.

_Bach._ Had the _gods_ lov'd me; that my unworthy womb had bred

this brave man.

_Leon._ Still you run wrong.

_Bach._ I would have liv'd upon the comfort of him; fed on his

growing hopes.

_Leo._ This touches me.

_Bach._ I know no friends, nor Being, but his virtues.

_Le._ You have laid out words enough upon a subject.

_Bach._ But words cannot express him Sir: why what a shape

Heaven has conceiv'd him in, oh Nature made him up!

_Leon._ I wonder _Dutchess_.

_Bach._ So you must: for less than admiration loses this

godlike man.

_Leon._ Have you done with him?

_Bach._ Done with? O good gods what frailties thus pass by us

without reverence!

_Leon._ I see no such perfection.

_Bac._ O dear Sir: you are a father, and those joys

To you, speak in your heart, not in your tongue.

_Leo._ This leaves a tast behind it worse than physick.

_Bac[h]._ Then for all his wisdome, valour,

Good fortune, and all those friends of honor,

They are in him as free and natural, as passions

In a Woman.

_Leon._ You make me blush at all these years

To see how blindly you have flung your praises

Upon a Boy, a very child, and worthless,

Whilst I live, of these Honors.

_Bac._ I would not have my love Sir, make my tongue

Shew me so much a woman: as to praise

Or dispraise, where my will is, without reason,

Or generall allowance of the people.

_Leon._ Allowance of the people, what allow they?

_Bac._ All, I have sed for truth, and they must do it,

And doat upon him: love him, and admire him.

_Leon._ How's that?

_Bac._ For in this youth and noble forwardness

All things are bound together that are kingly,

A fitness to bear rule:

_Leon._ No more.

_Bac._ And Sovereignty not made to know command.

_Leon._ I have sed, no more.

_Bac._ I have done Sir, though unwilling, and pardon me.

_Leon._ I do, not a word more.

_Bac[h]._ I have gi'n thee poyson

Of more infection than the Dragons tooth,

Or the gross Air o'er heated.

_Leon. Timantus_ when saw you the Prince?

_Tim._ I left him now Sir.

_Leon._ Tell me truely, out of your free opinion without

courting. How you like him.

_Tim._ How I like him?

_Leon._ Yes: for you in conversation may see more

Than a Father.

_Bac._ It works.

_Timantus._ Your Grace has chosen out an ill observer.

_Leon._ Yes, I mean of his ill: you talk rightly.

_Tim._ But you take me wrong: All I know by him

I dare deliver boldly: He is the storehouse

And head of virtue; your great self excepted,

That feeds the Kingdome.

_Leon._ These are flatteries: speak me his vices, there you

do a service worth a Fathers thanks.

_Tim._ Sir, I cannot. If there be any, sure they are the

times which I could wish less dangerous.

But pardon me, I am too bold.

_Leon._ [You] are not, forward and open what these dangers are.

_Timan._ Nay, good Sir.

_Leon._ Nay, fall not off again, I will have all.

_Timan._ Alas Sir, what am I, you should believe

My eyes or ears, so subtle to observe

Faults in a State: all my main business

Is service to your Grace, and necessaries

For my poor life.

_Leon._ Do not displease me Sirrah,

But that you know tell me, and presently.

_Timan._ Since your Grace will have it

I'll speak it freely: Alwayes my obedience

And love preserv'd unto the Prince.

_Leon._ Prethee to the matter.

_Tim._ For Sir, if you consider

How like a Sun in all his great employments,

How full of heat.

_Leon._ Make me understand what I desire.

_Tim._ And then at his return.

_Leon._ Do not anger me.

_Tim._ Then thus Sir: All mislike ye,

As they would do the gods, if they did dwell with 'em.

_Leon._ What?

_Tim._ Talke and prate, as their ignorant rages

Leads 'em without Alleageance or Religion.

For Heavens sake have a care of your own person:

I cannot tell, their wickedness may lead

Farther than I dare think yet.

_Leo._ O base people.

_Tim._ Yet the Prince, for whom this is pretended may

Persuade 'em, and no doubt will: virtue is ever watchfull,

But be you still secur'd and comforted.

_Leon._ Heaven how have I offended, that this rod

So heavy and unnaturall, should fall upon me

When I am old and helpless.

_Tim._ Brave Gentl. that such a madding love should follow

thee, to rob thee of a Father:

All the Court is full of dangerous whispers.

_Leon._ I perceive it, and 'spight of all their strengths

Will make my safety: I'll cut him shorter.

I'll cut him shorter first, then let him rule.

_Bach._ What a foul Age is this, when Virtue is made a

sword to smite the virtuous! Alas, alas:

_Leon._ I'll teach him to fly lower.

_Tim._ By no means Sir, rather, make more your love,

And hold your favor to him: for 'tis now

Impossible to yoke him, if his thoughts,

As I must ne'er believe, run with their rages,

He never was so innocent, but what reason

His Grace has to withdraw his love from me,

And other good men that are near your person,

I cannot yet find out: I know my duty

Has ever been attending.

_Leon._ 'Tis too plain: He means to play the villain,

I'll prevent him, not a word more of this, be private.

[_Exit Leontius._

_Tim._ Madam 'tis done.

_Bac._ He cannot escape me. Have you spoken with the noble men?

_Tim._ Yes Madam they are here: I wait a farther service.

_Bac._ Till [you see] the Prince, you need no more

instructions.

_Tim._ No, I have it. [_Exit Timantus._

_Enter Dorialus, Nisus, Agenor._

_Bac._ That fool that willingly provoks a woman,

Has made himself another evill Angell,

And a new Hell, to which all other torments

Are but mere pastime: Now my noble Lords,

You must excuse me, that unmannerly

We have broke your private business.

_Agen._ Your good Grace may command us, and that.

_Bac._ Faith my Lord _Agenor_: 'Tis so good a cause

I am confident, you cannot loose by it.

_Dorialus._ Which way does she fish now?

The devill is but a fool to a right woman.

_Nisus._ Madam, we must needs win in doing service to

such a gracious Lady.

_Bac._ I thank you, and will let you know the business:

So I may have your helps, never be doubtfull,

For 'tis so just a cause, and will to you

Upon the knowledge seem so honorable,

That I assure my self your willing hearts

Will strait be for me in it.

_Age._ If she should prove good now, what wer't like?

_Dorial._ Thunder in _Januarie_, or a good woman,

That's stranger than all _Affrick_.

_Bac._ It shall not need your wonder, this it is:

The Duke you know is old, and rather subject

To ease and prayers now, than all those troubles,

Cares, and continuall watchings, that attend

A Kingdomes safety, therefore to prevent

The fall of such a flourishing Estate

As this has [ever] been, and to put off

The murmure of the people that encrease

Against my government, which the gods knows

I onely feel the trouble of: I present

The Prince unto your loves, a Gent.

In whom all Excellencies are knit together,

All peeces of a true man, let your prayers

Win from the Duke half his Vexation,

That he may undertake it, whose discretion

I must confess, though it be from the Father,

Yet now is stronger, and more apt to govern.

'Tis not my own desire, but all the Lands,

I know the weakeness of it.

_Nisus._ Madam, this noble care and love has won us

For ever to your lives, we'll to the King,

And since your Grace has put it in our mouths,

We'll win him with the cunning'st words we can.

_Dorial._ I was never cousen'd in a woman before.

For commonly they are like Apples: If once they bruise

They will grow rotten thorow, and serve for nothing but to

asswage swellings.

_Bac._ Good Lords delay no time, since 'tis your good

Pleasures to think my counsell good, and by no means

Let the Prince know it, whose affections

Will stir mainly against it: besides his Father

May hold him dangerous, if it be not carried

So that his forward will appear not in it,

Go, and be happy.

_Dorial._ Well, I would not be Chronicl'd as thou

Wilt be for a good woman, for all the world.

_Nisus._ Madam, we kiss your hand, and so inspire.

Nothing but happiness can crown our prayers. [_Exeunt._

_Actus Quart[us]. Scæna Prima._

_Enter Leucippus, Ismenus._

_Leu._ And thus she has us'd me, is't not a good mother?

_Ismenus._ Why kill'd you her not?

_Leu._ The gods forbid it.

_Ismenus._ S'light, if all the women i'th' world were barren,

shee had dy'd.

_Leuc._ But 'tis not reason directs thee thus.

_Ismen._ Then have I none at all, for all I have in me

Directs me: Your Father's in a pretty rage.

_Leucippus._ Why?

_Ismenus._ Nay, 'tis well, if he know himself, but some of the

Nobility have deliver'd a petition to him: what's in't, I know

not, but it has put him to his trumps: he has taken a months

time to answer it, and chafes like himself.

_Enter Leontius, Bacha, and Tellamon._

_Leu._ He's here _Ismenus_.

_Leon._ Set me down _Tellamon_. _Leucippus._

_Leu._ Sir.

_Bach._ Nay good Sir, be at peace, I dare swear he kn[ew] not

of it.

_Leon._ You are foolish: peace.

_Bach._ All will go ill, deny it boldly Sir, trust me he cannot

prove it by you.

_Leu._ What?

_Bach._ You'll make all worse too with your facing it.

_Leuc._ What is the matter?

_Leon._ Know'st thou that petition?

Look on it well: wouldst thou be joyn'd with me

(Unnaturall child to be weary of me)

E'r Fate esteem me fit for other worlds.

_Bac._ May be he knows not of it.

_Leu._ Oh strange carriages!

Sir, as I have hope that there is any thing

To reward doing well, my usages

Which have been (but 'tis no matter what)

Have put me so far from the thought of Greatness,

That I should welcome it like a disease

That grew upon me, and I could not cure.

They are my enemies that gave you this,

And yet they call me friend, and are themselves

I fear abus'd. I am weary of my life,

For Gods sake take it from me: it creates

More mischief in the State than it is worth,

The usage I have had, I know would make

Wisdom her self run frantick through the streets,

And Patience quarrel with her shadow.

Sir, this sword--

_Bac._ Alas! help for the love of Heaven,

Make way through me first, for he is your Father.

_Leon._ What, would he kill me?

_Bac._ No Sir, no.

_Leon._ Thou always [mak'st] the best on't, but I fear--

_Leu._ Why do you use me thus? who is't can think

That I would kill my Father, that can yet

Forbear to kill you? Here Sir, is my sword;

I dare not touch it, lest she say again

I would have kill'd you: let me not have mercy

When I most need it, if I would not change

Place with my meanest servant. Let these faults

Be mended Madam: if you saw how ill

They did become you, you would part with them.

_Bac._ I told the Duke as much before.

_Leu._ What? what did you tell him?

_Bac._ That it was only an ambition,

Nurst in you by your youth, provok'd you thus,

Which age would take away.

_Leon._ It was his doing then? come hither Love.

_Bac._ No indeed, Sir.

_Leu._ How am I made, that I can bear all this?

If any one had us'd a friend of mine [nere] this,

My hand had carried death about it.

_Leon._ Lead me hence _Tellamon_: come my dear

_Bacha_, I shall find time for this.

_Ism._ Madam, you know I dare not speak before

The King; but you know well, if not, I'll tell [it] you,

You are the most wicked'st, and most murderous

Strumpet, that ever was call'd Woman.

_Bac._ My Lord, what can I do for him? he shall command me.

_Leon._ I know thou art too kind; away I say.

[_Exit_ Leon. Bac. Tima. Telia.

_Isme._ Sir, I am sure we dream, this cannot be.

_Leu._ Oh that we did, my wickedness has brought

All this to pass, else I should bear my self.

_Enter_ Urania.

_Isme._ Look, doe you see who's there? your virtuous Mothers

issue: kill her, yet take some little pidling revenge.

_Leu._ Away, the whole Court calls her virtuous; for they say,

she is unlike her Mother, and if so, she can have no vice.

_Ism._ I'll trust none of 'em that come of such a breed.

_Leu._ But I have found

A kind of love in her to me: alas,

Think of her death! I dare be sworn for her,

She is as free from any hate to me

As her bad Mother's full. She was brought up

I'th' Countrey, as her tongue will let you know

_Enter_ Urania.

If you but talk with her, with a poor Uncle,

Such as her Mother had.

_Ism._ She's come again.

_Ura._ I would fene speak to the good Marquess my brother, if I

but thought he could abaid me.

_Leu._ Sister, how do you?

_Ura._ Very well I thank you.

_Ism._ How does your good Mother?

_Leu._ Fie, fie, _Ismenus_ for shame, mock such an innocent

soul as this.

_Ura._ Feth a she be no good, [G]od may her so.

_Leu._ I know you wish it with your heart dear Sister, but she

is good I hope.

_Ism._ Are you so simple, to make so much of this?

Do you not know,

That all her wicked Mother labours for, is but to raise

Her to your right, and leave her this Dukedom?

_Ura._ I, but ne'r Sir be afred;

For though she take th' ungain'st weas she can,

I'll ne'er ha't fro' you.

_Leu._ I should hate my self _Ismenus_;

If I should think of her simplicity,

Ought but extreamly well.

_Ism._ Nay, as you will.

_Ura._ And though she be my Mother,

If she take any caurse to do you wrong,

If I can see't, youst quickly hear on't Sir:

And so I'll take my leave.

_Leu._ Farewel good Sister, I thank you. [_Exit_ Urania.

_Ism._ You believe all this.

_Leu._ Yes.

_Enter_ Timantus.

_Ism._ A good faith doth well, but methinks

It were no hard matter now, for her Mother to send her:

Yonder's one you may trust if you will too.

_Leu._ So I will, if he can shew me as apparent signs

Of truth as she did; Does he weep _Ismenus_?

_Ism._ Yes, I think so: some good's happen'd I warrant:

Do you hear, you? What honest man has scap'd misery, that

[you are] crying thus?

_Tim._ Noble _Ismenus_, where's the Prince?

_Ism._ Why there! hast wept thine eyes out?

_Tim._ Sir, I beseech you hear me.

_Leu._ Well, speak on.

_Ism._ Why, will you hear him?

_Leu._ Yes _Ismenus_, why?

_Ism._ I would hear blasphemy as willingly.

_Leu._ You are [to] blame.

_Tim._ No Sir: he is not to blame:

If I were as I was.

_Ism._ Nor as thou art, yfaith awhit [to] blame.

_Leu._ What's your business?

_Tim._ Faith Sir, I am ashamed to speak before you,

My conscience tells me I have injur'd you,

And by the earnest instigation

Of others, have not done you to the King

Always the best and friendliest offices;

Which pardon me, or I will never speak.

_Ism._ Never pardon him and silence a knave.

_Leu._ I pardon thee.

_Tim._ Your Mother sure is naught.

_Leu._ Why shouldst thou think so?

_Tim._ Oh noble, Sir, your honest eyes perceive not

The dangers you are led to; shame upon her,

And what fell miseries the gods can think on

Shower down upon her wicked head, she has plotted

I know too well your death: would my poor life

Or thousand[s] such as mine is, might be offer'd

Like sacrifices up for your preserving,

What free oblations would she have to glut her,

But she is merciless, and bent to ruin;

If heaven and good men step not to your rescue,

And timely, very timely: Oh this Dukedom!

I weep, I weep for the poor Orphans i'th' Countrey

Left with but Friends or Parents.

_Leu._ Now _Ismenus_, what think you of this fellow?

This was a lying knave, a flatterer,

Does not this Love still shew him so.

_Ism._ This Love? this Halter: if he prove not yet

The cunning'st rankest rogue that ever Canted,

I'll never see man again: I know him to bring,

And can interpret every new face he makes;

Look how he wrings like a good stool for a tear:

Take heed, Children and Fools

First feel the smart, Then weep.

_Leu._ Away, away, such an unkind distrust,

Is worse than a dissembling, if it be one,

And sooner leads to mischief, I believe it,

And him an honest man: he could not carry

Under an evil cause, so true a sorrow.

_Ism._ Take heed, this is your Mothers scorpion,

That carries stings even in his tears,

Whose soul is a rank poison through: Touch

Not at him, if you do, you are gone, if you had twenty

Lives: I knew him for a Roguish boy, when

He would poison Dogs, and keep tame Toads,

He lay with his Mother, and infected her, and now

She begs i'th' Hospital, with a patch of Velvet,

Where her Nose stood: like the Queen of Spades.

And all her teeth in her purse, the Devil and this

Fellow are so near, 'Tis not yet known which is the eviler Angel.

_Leu._ Nay, then I see 'tis spite: Come hither friend.

Hast thou not heard the cause yet that incens'd my Mother

to my death, for I protest I feel none in my self?

_Tim._ Her Will Sir, and Ambition, as I think,

Are the provokers of it, as in Women,

Those two are ever powerful to destruction,

Beside a hate of your still growing virtues,

She being only wicked.

_Leu._ Heavens defend me as I am innocent,

And ever have been from all immoderate thoughts and

Actions, that carry such rewards along w[i]th 'em.

_Tim._ Sir, all I know, my duty must reveal,

My Countrey and my Love command it from me,

For whom I'll lay my life down: this night coming,

A Counsel is appointed by the Duke,

To sit about your apprehension:

If you dare trust my faith: which by all good things

Shall ever watch about you: goe along,

And to a place I'll guide you: where no word

Shall scape without your hearing, nor no plot

Without discovering to you, which once known, you have your

answers and prevention.

_Ism._ You are not so mad to goe; shift off this fellow, you

shall be rul'd once by a wise man: Ratsbane get you gone, or--

_Leu._ Peace, peace for shame, thy love is too suspitious, 'tis

a way offer'd to preserve my life, and I will take it: be my

Guide _Timantus_ and do not mind this angry man, thou know'st

him: I may live to requite thee.

_Tim._ Sir, this service is done for virtues sake, not for

reward, however he may hold me.

_Ism._ The great pox on you: but thou hast that curse so much,

'twill grow a blessing in thee shortly. Sir, for wisdoms sake

court not your death, I am your friend and subject, and I shall

lose in both: if I lov'd you not, I would laugh at you, and see

you run your neck into the noose, and cry a Woodcock.

_Leu._ So much of man, and so much fearful; fie, prethee have

peace within thee: I shall live yet many a golden day to hold

thee here dearest and nearest to me: Go on _Timantus_, I charge

you by your love no more, no more. [_Exeunt_ Leu. Tim.

_Ism._ Goe, and let your own rod whip you:

I pity you. And dog, if he miscarry thou shalt pay for't,

I'll study for thy punishment, and it shall last

Longer and sharper than a tedious Winter,

Till thou blasphem'st, and then thou diest and damn'st. [_Exit._

_Enter_ Leontius _and_ Tellamon.

_Leon._ I wonder the Dutchess comes not.

_Tel._ She has heard, Sir, your Will to speak with her:

But there is something leaden at her heart;

(Pray God it be not mortal) that even keeps her

From conversation with her self.

_Enter the Dutchess._

_B._ Oh whither will you my cross affections pull me?

Fortune, Fate, and you whose powers direct our actions,

And dwell within us: you that are Angels

Guiding to virtue, wherefore have you given

So strong a hand to evil? wherefore suffer'd

A Temple of your own, you Deities

Where your fair selves dwelt only, and your goodness

Thus to be soyl'd with sin?

_Leon._ Heaven bless us all.

From whence comes this distemper? speak my fair one.

_Bac._ And have you none, Love and Obedience,

You[r] ever faithful Servants to imploy

In this strange story of impiety,

But me a Mother; Must I be your strumpet?

To lay black Treason upon, and in him,

In whom all sweetness was: in whom my love

Was [proud] to have a Being, in whom Justice,

And all the gods for our imaginations

Can work into a man, were more than virtues,

Ambition down to hell, where thou wert foster'd,

Thou hast poison'd the best soul, the purest, whitest,

And meerest innocent'st it self that ever

Mens greedy hopes gave life to.

_Leon._ This is still stranger: lay this treason

Open to my correction.

_Bac._ Oh what a combat duty and affection

Breeds in my blood!

_Leon._ If thou conceal'st him, may,

Beside my death, the curses of the Countrey,

Troubles of conscience, and a wretched end,

Bring thee unto a poor forgotten grave.

_Bach._ My Being: for another tongue to tell it,

Cease, a Mother! some good man that dares

Speak for his King and Countrey: I am full

Of too much womans pity: yet oh Heaven,

Since it concerns the safety of my Sovereign,

Let it not be a cruelty in me,

Nor draw a Mothers name in question,

Amongst unborn people, to give up that man

To Law and Justice, that unrighteously

Has sought his Fathers death: be deaf: be deaf Sir,

Your Son is the offender: Now have you all,

Would I might never speak again.

_Leon._ My Son! Heaven help me.

No more! I thought it, and since

His life is grown so dangerous: Let them that

Gave him, take him: he shall dye,

And with him all my fears.

_Bac._ Oh use your mercy: you have a brave subject

To bestow it on. I'll forgive him, Sir; and for his

Wrong to me, I'll be before ye.

_Leon._ Durst his villany extend to thee?

_Bac._ Nothing but heats of youth, Sir.

_Leon._ Upon my life he sought my bed.

_Bacha._ I must confess he loved me

Somewhat beyond a Son: and still pursu'd it

With such a Lust, I will not say _Ambition_:

That clean forgetting all obedience,

And only following his first heat unto me,

He hotly sought your death, and me in Marriage.

_Leon._ Oh Villain!

_Bac._ But I forget all: and am half asham'd

To press a man so far.

_Enter_ Timantus.

_Tim._ Where is the Duke? for Gods sake bring me to him:

_Leon._ Here I am: each corner of the Dukedom

Sends new affrights forth: what wouldst thou? speak.

_Tim._ I cannot Sir, my fear ties up my tongue:

_Leon._ Why, what's the matter? Take thy courage

To thee, and boldly speak, where are the Guard?

In the gods name, out with it:

_Tim._ Treason, treason.

_Leon._ In whom?

_Bacha._ Double the Guard.

_Tim._ There is a fellow, Sir.

_Leon._ Leave shaking man.

_Timan._ 'Tis not for fear, but wonder.

_Leon._ Well.

_Timan._ There is a fellow, Sir, close i'th' Lobby:

You o'the Guard, look to the door there.

_Leon._ But let me know the business.

_Tima._ Oh that the hearts of men should be so hard'ned

Against so good a Duke, for Gods sake, Sir,

Seek means to save your self; This wretched slave

Has his sword in his hand, I know his heart:

Oh it hath almost kill'd me with the thought of it.

_Leon._ Where is he?

_Enter the Guard, and bring him in._

_Timan._ I'th' Lobby Sir, close in a corner:

Look to your selves for Heavens sake,

Me thinks he is here already.

Fellows of the Guard be valiant.

_Leon._ Goe Sirs, and apprehend him; Treason shall

Never dare me in mine own Gates.

_Tim._ 'Tis done. [_There they bring the Prince in._

_Bacha._ And thou shalt find it to thy best content.

_Leon._ Are these the comforts of my age?

They're happy that end their daies contented

With a little, and live aloof from dangers, to a King

Every content doth a new peril bring.

Oh let me live no longer, shame of Nature,

Bastard to Honor: Traytor, Murderer,

Devil in a humane shape. Away with him,

He shall not breathe his hot [inf]ection here.

_Leu._ Sir, hear me.

_Leon._ Am I or he your Duke? away with him

To a close prison: your Highness now shall know,

Such branches must be cropt before they grow.

_Leu._ Whatever fortune comes, I bid it welcome,

My innocency is my Armor: gods preserve you. [_Exit._

_Bacha._ Fare thee well, I shall never see so brave a Gent.

Would I could weep out his offences.

_Tim._ Or I could weep out mine eyes.

_Leon._ Come Gentlemen, we'll determine presently

About his death: we cannot be too forward in our

Safety: I am very sick, lead me unto my bed. [_Exeunt._

_Enter Citizen and his Boy._

_Cit._ Sirrah, goe fetch my Fox from the Cutlers: There's money

for the scowring: Tell him I stop a groat since the last great

Muster: he had in stone Pitch for the bruise: he took with the

recoyling of his Gun.

_Boy._ Yes Sir.

_Cit._ And do you hear? when you come, Take down my Buckler,

and sweep the Cobwebs off: and grind the pick o[n']t, and

fetch a Nail or two: and tack on bracers: your Mistriss made a

pot-lid ont't, I thank her, at her Ma[yd]s Wedding, and burnt

off the Handle.

_Boy._ I will Sir. [_Exit._

_Cit._ Who's within here, hoe Neighbor, not stirring yet?

_2 Cit._ Oh, good morrow, good morrow: what news, what news?

_1 Cit._ It holds, he dies this morning.

_2 Cit._ Then happy man be his fortune, I am resolv'd.

_1 Cit._ And so am I, and forty more good fellows, That will

not give their heads for the washing, I take it.

_2 Cit._ 'Sfoot man, who would not hang in such good company,

and such a cause? A Fire, a Wife and Children; 'Tis such a jest

that men should look behind 'em to the world: and let their

honors, their honors neighbor, slip.

_1 Cit._ I'll give thee a pint of _Bastard_ and a Roll for that

bare word.

_2 Cit._ They say, that we Tailors, are things that lay one

another, and our Geese hatch us: I'll make some of 'em feel

they are Geese o'th' game then.

I'fack, take down my Bill, 'tis ten to one I use it. Take a

good heart man, all the low ward is ours, with a wet finger.

An[d] lay my cut-fing'red Gantlet ready for me,

That, that I us'd to work in, when the Gentl. were

Up against us, and beaten out of Town, and almost out o'

Debt too: for a plague on 'em they never paid well since:

And take heed sirrah, your Mistriss hears not of this

Business, she's near her time: yet if she do,

I care not, she may long for Rebellion,

For she has a devilish spirit.

_1 Cit._ Come, let's call up the new Iremonger, he's as

tough as steel, and has a fine wit in these resurrections;

Are you stirring neighbor?

_3. Within._ Oh, Good morrow neighbors, I'll come to you

presently.

_2._ Goe to, this is his Mothers doing; she's a _Polecat_.

_1._ As any is in the world.

_2._ Then say, I have hit it, and a vengeance on her, let her

be what she will.

_1. Amen_ say I, she has brought things to a fine pass with

her wisdom: do you mark it?

_2._ One thing I am sure she has, the good old Duke, she gives

him pap again they say, and dandles him, and hangs a corral and

bells about his neck, and makes him believe his teeth will come

agen; which if they did, and I he, I would worry her as never

Curr was worried: I would neighbor, till my teeth met I know

where, but that's counsel.

_Enter [third] Citizen._

_3._ Good morrow neighbors: hear you the sad news?

_1._ Yes, would we knew as well how to prevent it.

_3._ I cannot tell, methinks 'twere no great matter, if men

were men: but--

_2._ You do not twit me with my calling neighbor?

_3._ No surely: for I know your spirit to be tall; pray be not

vext.

_2._ Pray forward with your counsel: I am what I am, and they

that prove me shall find me to their cost: do you mark me

neighbor, to their cost I say.

_1._ Nay, look how soon you are angry!

_2._ They shall neighbors: yes, I say they shall.

_3._ I do believe they shall.

_1._ I know they shall.

_2._ Whether you do or no I care not two pence,

I am no beast, I know mine own strength neighbors;

God bless the King, your companies is fair.

_1._ Nay neighbor, now ye erre, [I] tell you so, and ye [were]

twenty Neighbors.

_3._ You had best goe peach, doe, peach.

_2._ Peach; I scorn the motion.

_3._ Doe, and see what follows: I'll spend an hundred pound,

and be two I care not: but I'll undoe thee.

_2._ Peach, Oh disgrace! Peach in thy face, and doe the worst

thou canst: I am a true-man, and a free-man: peach!

_1._ Nay, look, you will spoil all.

_2._ Peach!

_1._ Whilst you two brawl together, the Prince will lose his

life.

_3._ Come, give me your hand, I love you well, are you for the

action?

_2._ Yes: but Peach provokes me, 'tis a cold fruit, I feel it

cold in my stomach still.

_3._ No more, I'll give you Cake to digest it.

_Enter the Fourth._

_4._ Shut up my shop, and be ready at a call boys, and one of

you run over my old tuck with a few ashes, 'tis grown odious

with tosting Cheese: and burn a little Juniper in my Murrin,

the Maid made it her Chamber-pot: an hour hence I'll come

again; and as you hear from me, send me a clean shirt.

_3._ The Chandler by th[e] Wharf, and it be thy Will.

_2._ Gossip, good morrow.

_4._ Oh good morrow Gossip: good morrow all, I see ye of one

mind you cleave so close together: come 'tis time, I have

prepared [a] hundred if they stand.

_1._ 'Tis well done: shall we sever, and about it?

_3._ First, let's to the Tavern, and a pint a piece will make

us Dragons.

_2._ I will have no mercy, come what will of it.

_4._ If my tuck hold, I'll spit the Guard like Larks with sage

between 'em.

_2._ I have a foolish Bill to reckon with 'em, will make some

of their hearts ake, and I'll lay it on: now shall I fight,

'twill do you good to see me.

_3._ Come, I'll do something for the Town to talk of when I am

rotten: pray God there be enough to kill, that's all. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Dorialus, Nisus, Agenor.

_Age._ How black the day begins!

_Dor._ Can you blame it, and look upon such a deed as shall be

done this morning?

_Nis._ Does the Prince suffer to day?

_Dor._ Within this hour they say.

_Agen._ Well, they that are most wicked are most safe: 'twill

be a strange justice, and a lamentable, gods keep us from the

too soon feeling of it.

_Doria._ I care not if my throat were next: for to live still,

and live here, were but to grow [f]at for the Shambles.

_Nis._ Yet we must do it, and thank 'em too, that our lives may

be accepted.

_Age._ Faith I'll go starve [my] self, or grow diseas'd to

shame the hangman; for I am sure he shall be my Herald, and

quarter me.

_Dor._ I, a plague on him, he's too excellent at Arms.

_Nisus._ Will you go see this sad sight, my Lord _Agenor_?

_Age._ I'll make a mourner.

_Dor._ If I could do him any good, I would goe,

The bare sight else will but afflict my spirit,

My prayers shall be as near him as your eyes:

As you find him setled, remember my love and service to his Grace.

_Nis._ We will weep for you, Sir: farewel. [_Exeunt._

_Dor._ Farewell to all our happiness, a long farewel.

Thou angry power, whether of Heaven or Hell,

Thou laist this sharp correction on our Kingdom

For our offences, infinite and mighty!

Oh hear me, and at length be pleas'd, be pleas'd

With pity to draw back thy vengeance,

Too heavy for our weakness; and accept,

(Since it is your discretion, heavenly Wisdoms,

To have it so) this sacrifice for all,

That now is flying to your happiness,

Only for you most fit: let all our sins suffer in him.

[_A shout within._

Gods, what's the matter? I hope 'tis joy;

How now my Lords?

_Enter_ Agenor _and_ Nisus.

_Nis._ I'll tell you with that little breath I have;

More joy than you dare think, The Prince is safe from danger.

_Dor._ How!

_Age._ 'Tis true, and thus it was; his hour was come

To lose his life, he ready for the stroke,

Nobly, and full of Saint-like patience,

Went with his Guard: which when the people saw,

Compassion first went out, mingled with tears,

That bred desires, and whispers to each other,

To do some worthy kindness for the Prince,

And e'r they understood well how to do,

Fury stept in, and taught them what to do,

Thrusting on every hand to rescue him,

As a white innocent: then flew the roar

Through all the streets, of _Save him, save him, save him_:

And as they cry'd, they did; for catching up

Such sudden weapons as their madness shew them

In short, they beat the Guard, and took him from 'em,

And now march with him like a royal Army.

_Dor._ Heaven, heaven I thank thee,

What a slave was I to have my hand so far from

This brave rescue, 't 'ad been a thing to brag on

When I was old. Shall we run for a wager to the

Next Temple, and give thanks?

_Nis._ As fast as wishes.

_Enter_ Leucippus _and_ Ismenus: _the people within stops_.

_Leu._ Good friends goe home again, there's not a man shall goe

with me.

_Isme._ Will you not take revenge? I'll call them on.

_Leuc._ All that love me, depart:

I thank you, and will serve you for your loves:

But I will thank you more to suffer me

To govern 'em: once more, I do beg ye,

For my sake to your houses.

_All within._ Gods preserve you.

_Ism._ And what house will you goe to?

_Leu. Ismenus_, I will take the wariest courses that I can

think of to defend my self, but not offend.

_Isme._ You may kill your Mother, and never offend your Father,

an honest man.

_Leu._ Thou know'st I can scape now, that's all I look for:

I'll leave.

_Isme. Timantus_, a pox take him, would I had him here, I

would kill him at his own weapon single, sithes we have built

enough on him: plague on't, I'm out of all patience: discharge

such an Army as this, that would have followed you without

paying, Oh gods!

_Leu._ To what end should I keep 'em? I am free.

_Isme._ Yes, free o'th' Traitors, for you are proclaim'd one.

_Leu._ Should I therefore make my self one?

_Isme._ This is one of your moral Philosophy, is it?

Heaven bless me from subtilties to undoe my self with:

But I know, if reason her self were here,

She would not part with her own safety.

_Leu._ Well, pardon _Ismenus_, for I know

My courses are most just; nor will I stain 'em

With one bad action; for thy self thou know'st,

That though I may command thee, I shall be

A ready servant to thee if thou needst: and so I'll take my

leave.

_Isme._ Of whom?

_Leu._ Of thee.

_Isme._ Heart, you shall take no leave of me.

_Leu._ Shall I not?

_Isme._ No, by the gods shall you not: nay, if you have no more

wit but to goe absolutely alone, I'll be in a little.

_Leu._ Nay, prethee good _Ismenus_ part with me.

_Isme._ I wonnot i'faith, never move it any more; for by this

good light I wonnot.

_Leu._ This is an ill time to be thus unruly: _Ismenus_. You

must leave me.

_Isme._ Yes, if you can beat me away: else the gods refuse me

if I will leave you till I see more reason; you sha'nt undoe

your self.

_Leu._ But why wilt not leave me?

_Isme._ Why I'll tell you: Because when you are gone,

then--life, if I have not forgot my reason--hell take me: you

put me out of patience so: Oh! marry when you are gone, then

will your Mother (a pox confound her) she never comes in my

head, but she spoils my memory too: there are a hundred reasons.

_Leu._ But shew me one.

_Isme._ Shew you; what a stir here is; why I will shew you: Do

you think; well, well, I know what I know, I pray come, come.

'Tis in vain: but I am sure. Devils take 'em; what do I meddle

with 'em? You know your self. Soul, I think I am: is there any

man i'th' world? as if you knew not this already better than I.

Pish, pish, I'll give no reason.

_Leu._ But I will tell thee one, why thou shouldst stay:

I have not one friend in the Court but thou,

On whom I may be bold to trust to send me

Any intelligence: and if thou lov'st me

Thou wilt do this, thou needst not fear to stay,

For there are new-come Proclamations out,

Where all are pardon'd but my self.

_Isme._ 'Tis true, and in the same Proclamation, your fine

Sister _Urania_, whom you us'd so kindly, is proclaim'd Heir

apparent to the Crown.

_Leu._ What though, thou mayst stay at home without danger.

_Isme._ Danger, hang danger, what tell you me of danger?

_Leu._ Why if thou wilt not do't, I think thou dar'st not.

_Isme._ I dare not: if you speak it in earnest, you are a Boy.

_Leu._ Well Sir, if you dare, let me see you do't.

_Isme._ Why so you shall, I will stay.

_Leu._ Why God-a-mercy.

_Isme._ You know I love you but too well.

_Leu._ Now take these few directions: farewel, send to me by

the wariest ways thou canst: I have a soul tells me we shall

meet often. The gods protect thee.

_Isme._ Pox o' my self for an ass, I'm crying now, God be with

you, if I never see you again: why then pray get you gone,

for grief and anger wonnot let me know what I say, I'll to

the Court as fast as I can, and see the new Heir apparant.

[_Exeunt._

_Actus Quintus. Scæna Prima._

_Enter_ Urania _and her Woman_.

_Uran._ What hast thou found him?

_Wo._ Madam, he is coming in.

_Uran._ Gods bless my brother, wheresoe'er he is:

And I beseech you keep me fro the bed

Of any naughty Tyrant, whom my Mother

Would ha me have to wrong him.

_Enter_ Ismenus.

_Isme._ What would her new Grace have with me?

_Ura._ Leave us a while. My Lord _Ismenus_, [_Exit_[Wom.]

I pray for the love of Heaven and God,

That you would tell me one thing, which I know

You can do weell.

_Isme._ Where's her fain Grace?

_Ura._ You know me well inough, but that you mock, I am she my

sen.

_Isme._ God bless him that shall be thy husband, if thou

wear'st [breeches] thus soon, thou'lt be as impudent as thy

Mother.

_Ura._ But will you tell me this one thing?

_Ism._ What is't? if it be no great matter whether I do or no,

perhaps I will.

_Ura._ Yes faith, 'tis matter.

_Ism._ And what is't?

_Ura._ I pray you let me know whaire the Prince my Brother is.

_Ism._ I'faith you shan be hang'd first, is your Mother so

foolish to think your good Grace can sift it out of me?

_Ura._ If you have any mercy left i' you to a poor wench, tell

me.

_Ism._ Why wouldst [not thou] have thy brains beat out for

this, to follow thy Mothers steps so young?

_Ura._ But believe me, she knows none of this.

_Ism._ Believe you? why do you think I never had wits? or that

I am run out of them? how should it belong to you to know, if I

could tell?

_Ura._ Why I will tell you, and if I speak false

Let the devil ha me: yonder's a bad man,

Come from a Tyrant to my Mother, and what name

They ha' for him, good faith I cannot tell.

_Isme._ An Ambassador.

_Ura._ That's it: but he would carry me away,

And have me marry his Master; and I'll day

E'r I will ha' him.

_Ism._ But what's this to knowing where the Prince is?

_Ura._ Yes: for you know all my Mother does:

Agen the Prince is but to ma me great.

_Ism._ Pray, I know that too well, what ten?

_Ura._ Why I [w]ould goe to the good Marquis my

Brother, and put my self into his hands, that so

He may preserve himself.

_Ism._ Oh that thou hadst no seed of thy Mother in thee, and

couldst mean this now.

_Ura._ Why feth I do, wou'd I might ne'er stir more if I do not.

_Ism._ I shall prove a ridiculous fool, I'll be damn'd else:

hang me if I do not half believe thee.

_Ura._ By my troth you may.

_Ism._ By my troth I doe: I know I'm an Ass for't, But I cannot

help it.

_Ura._ And won you tell me then?

_Ism._ Yes faith will I, or any thing else i'th' world: for I

think thou art as good a creature as ever was born.

_Ura._ But ail goe i' this ladst [reparrell]: But you mun help

me to Silver.

_Ism._ Help thee? why the pox take him that will not help thee

to any thing i'th' world, I'll help thee to Money, and I'll

do't presently too, and yet soul, If you should play the scurvy

Harlotry little pocky baggage now and cosin me, what then?

_Ura._ Why, an I do, wou'd I might ne'r see day agen.

_Ism._ Nay, by this light, I do not think thou wilt: I'll

presently provide thee Money and a Letter. [_Exit_ Ism.

_Ura._ I, but I'll ne'er deliver it.

When I have found my Brother, I will beg

To serve him; but he shall never know who I am:

For he must hate me then for my bad mother:

I'll say I am a Countrey Lad that want a service,

And have straid on him by chance, lest he discover me;

I know I must not live long, but that taime

I ha' to spend, shall be in serving him.

And though my Mother seek to take his life away,

In ai day my brother shall be taught

That I was ever good, though she were naught. [_Exit._

_Enter_ Bacha _and_ Timantus: Bacha _reading_

_a Letter_.

_Bac._ Run away, the Devil be her guide.

_Tim._ Faith she's gone: there's a Letter, I found it in her

pocket, would I were with her, she's a handsome Lady, a plague

upon my bashfulness, I had bobb'd her long ago else.

_Bach._ What a base whore is this, that after all

My ways for her advancement, should so poorly

Make virtue her undoer, and choose this time,

The King being deadly sick, and I intending

A present marriage with some forreign Prince,

To strengthen and secure my self. She writes here

Like a wise Gentlewoman, She will not stay:

And the example of her dear brother, makes her

Fear her self, to whom she means to flie.

_Tim._ Why, who can help it?

_Bac._ Now Poverty and Lechery, which is thy end, rot thee,

where e'er thou goest with all thy goodness.

_Timan._ Berlady they'll bruze her: and she were of brass. I am

sure they'll break stone Walls: I have had experience of them

both, and they have made me desperate: but there's a messenger,

Madam, come from the Prince with a Letter to _Ismenus_, who by

him returns an answer.

_Bac._ This comes as pat as wishes: thou shalt presently away

_Timantus_.

_Tim._ Whither Madam?

_Ba._ To the Prince, and take the Messenger for guide.

_Tim._ What shall I do there? I have done too much mischief to

be believ'd again; or indeed, to scape with my head on my back,

if I be once known.

_Bac._ Thou art a weak shallow fool: get thee a disguise, and

withal, when thou com'st before him, have a Letter fain'd to

deliver him: and then, as thou hast ever hope of goodness by

me, or after me, strike one home stroke that shall not need

another: dar'st thou speak, dar'st thou? if thou fall'st off,

go be a Rogue again, and lie and pander to procure thy meat:

dar'st thou speak to me?

_Tim._ Sure I shall never walk when I am dead: I have no

spirit, Madam, I'll be drunk but I'll do it, that's all my

refuge. [_Exit._

_Bac._ Away, no more, then I'll raise an Army whilst the King

yet lives, if all the means and power I have can do it, I

cannot tell.

_Enter_ Ismenus _and three Lords_.

_Ism._ Are you inventing still? we'll ease your studies.

_Bac._ Why how now saucy Lords?

_Ism._ Nay, I'll shake ye; yes devil, I will shake ye.

_Bac._ Do not you know me Lords?

_Nis._ Yes deadly sin we know ye, would we did not.

_Ism._ Doe you hear whore, a plague a God upon thee, the Duke

is dead.

_Bach._ Dead!

_Ism._ I, wild-fire and brimstone take thee: good man he is

dead, and past those miseries which thou, salt infection-like;

like a disease flungst upon his head. Dost thou hear, and

'twere not more respect [to] Womanhood in general than thee,

because I had a Mother, who I will not say she was good, she

liv'd so near thy time, I would have thee in vengeance of this

man, whose peace is made in heaven by this time, tied to a

post; and dried i' th' sun, and after carried about, and shewn

at Fairs for money, with a long story of the devil thy father,

that taught thee to be whorish, envious, bloudy.

_Bac._ Ha, ha, ha.

_Ism._ You fleering harlot, I'll have a horse to leap thee,

and thy base issue shall carry Sumpters. Come Lords, bring her

along, we'll to the Prince all, where her hell-hood shall wait

his censure; and if he spare the[e] she-Goat, may he lie with

thee again: and beside, maist thou lay upon him some nasty foul

disease, that hate still follows, and his end a dry ditch. Lead

you corrupted whore, or I'll draw a goad shall make you skip:

away to the Prince.

_Bac._ [Ha] ha, ha, I hope yet I shall come too late to find

him.

_Cornets._ Cupid _from above_.

_Enter_ Leucippus, Urania: Leucippus _with a_

_bloody Handkerchief_.

_Leu._ Alas poor boy, why dost thou follow me?

What canst thou hope for? I am poor as thou art.

_Ura._ In good feth I shall be weel and rich enough

If you will love me, and not put me from you.

_Leu._ Why dost thou choose out me Boy to undo thee?

Alas, for pitty take another Master,

That may be able to deserve thy love

In breeding thee hereafter: me thou knowest not,

More than my misery: and therefore canst not

Look for rewards at my hands: would I were able

My pretty knave, to doe thee any kindness: truly

Good Boy, I would upon my faith, thy harmless

Innocence moves me at heart: wilt thou goe

Save thy self; why dost thou weep?

Alas, I do not chide thee.

_Ura._ I cannot tell if I go from you; Sir, I shall ne'er dawn

day more: Pray if you can, I will be true to you: Let me wait

on you: if I were a man, I would fight for you: Sure you have

some ill-willers, I would slay [u]m.

_Leu._ Such harmless souls are ever Prophets: well, I take thy

wish, thou shalt be with me still: But prethee eat, [then] my

good boy: Thou wilt die my child if thou fast one day more.

This four daies thou hast tasted nothing: Goe into the Cave and

eat: thou shalt find something for thee, to bring thy bloud

again, and thy fair colour.

_Ura._ I cannot eat, God thank you. But I'll eat to morrow.

_Leu._ Thou't be dead by that time.

_Ura._ I should be well then, for you will not love me.

_Leu._ Indeed I will. This is the prettiest passion that e'er I

felt yet: why dost thou look so earnestly upon me?

_Ura._ You have fair eyes Master.

_Leu._ Sure the boy dotes: why dost thou sigh my child?

_Ura._ To think that such a fine man should live, and no gay

Lady love him.

_Leu._ Thou wilt love me?

_Ura._ Yes sure till I die, and when I am in heaven, I'll e'en

wish for you.

_Leu._ And I'll come to thee boy. This is a Love I never yet

heard tell of: come, thou art sleepy child; goe in, and I'll

sit with thee: heaven what portends this?

_Ura._ You are sad, but I am not sleepy, would I could do ought

to make you merry: shall I sing?

_Leu._ If thou wilt good Boy. Alas my boy, that thou shouldst

comfort me, and art far worse than I!

_Enter_ Timantus _with a Letter disguised_.

_Ura._ Law Master, there's one, look to your [sen.]

_Leu._ What art thou that in this dismal place,

Which nothing could find out but misery,

Thus boldly stepst? Comfort was never here,

Here is no food, nor beds, nor any house

Built by a better Architect than beasts;

And e'r you get dwelling from one of them,

You must fight for it: if you conquer him,

He is your meat: if not, you must be his.

_Tim._ I come to you (for if I not mistake, you are the

Prince) from that most Noble Lord _Ismenus_ with a Letter.

_Ura._ Alas, I fear I shall be discover'd now.

_Leu._ Now I feel my self the poorest of all mortal things.

Where is he that receives such courtesies

But he has means to shew his gratefulness

Some way or other? I have none at all:

I know not how to speak so much as well

Of thee, but to these trees.

[Leucippus _opening the Letter, the whilst_ Timantus _runs at

him, and_ Urania _steps before_.

_Tim._ His Letters speak him, Sir--

_Ura._ Gods keep me but from knowing him till I die: aye me,

sure I cannot live a day, Oh thou foul Traitor: How do you

Master?

_Leu._ How dost thou my child? alas, look on [t]his, it may

make thee repentant, to behold those innocent drops that thou

hast drawn from thence.

_Ura._ 'Tis nothing Sir, and you be well.

_Tim._ Oh pardon me, know you me now, Sir?

_Leu._ How couldst thou find me out?

_Tima._ We intercepted a Letter from _Ismenus_, and the bearer

directed me.

_Leu._ Stand up _Timantus_ boldly,

The world conceives that thou art guilty

Of divers treasons to the State and me:

But oh far be it from the innocence

Of a just man, to give a Traitor death

Without a tryal: here the Countrey is not

To purge thee or condemn thee; therefore

A nobler trial than thou dost deserve,

Rather than none at all, here I accuse thee

Before the face of Heaven, to be a Traitor

Both to the Duke my Father and to me, and the

Whole Land: speak, is it so or no?

_Tima._ 'Tis true Sir, pardon me.

_Leu._ Take heed _Timantus_ how thou dost cast away thy self,

I must proceed to execution hastily if thou confess it: speak

once againe, is it so or no?

_Tima._ I am not guilty, Sir.

[_Fight here: the Prince gets his_

_sword, and gives it him._

_Leu._ Gods and thy sword acquit thee, here it is.

_Tima._ I will not use any violence against your Highness.

_Leu._ At thy peril then, for this must be thy trial: and from

henceforth look to thy self.

[Timantus _draws his sword, and runs_

_at him when he turns aside_.

_Tim._ I do beseech you, Sir, let me not fight.

_Leu._ Up, up again _Timantus_,

There is no way but this, believe me.

Now if--Fie, fie _Timantus_, is there no

Usage can recover thee from baseness? wert thou

Longer to converse with men, I would have chid

Thee for this: be all thy faults forgiven.

_Tim._ Oh spare me Sir, I am not fit for death.

_Leu._ I think th[o]u art not, yet trust me, fitter than for

life: Yet tell me e'r thy breath be gone, know'st of any other

plots against me?

_Tim._ Of none.

_Leu._ What course wouldst thou have taken, when thou hadst

kill'd me?

_Tim._ I would have ta'en your Page, and married her.

_Leu._ What Page?

_Tim._ Your boy there. [_Dies._

[Urania _sounds_.

_Leu._ Is he fall'n mad in death, what does he mean?

Some good god help me at the worst: how dost thou?

Let not thy misery vex me, thou shalt have

What thy poor heart can wish: I am a Prince,

And I will keep thee in the gayest cloaths,

And the finest things, that ever pretty boy had given him.

_Ura._ I know you well enough,

Feth I am dying, and now you know all too.

_Leu._ But stir up thy self; look what a Jewel here is,

See how it glisters: what a pretty shew

Will this make in thy little ear? ha, speak,

Eat but a bit, and take it.

_Ura._ Do you not know me?

_Leu._ I prethee mind thy health: why that's well said my good

boy, smile still.

_Ura._ I shall smile till death an I see you, I am _Urania_,

your Sister-in-law.

_Leu._ How?

_Ura._ I am _Urania_.

_Leu._ Dulness did seize me, now I know thee well;

Alas, why cam'st thou hither?

_Ura._ Feth for love, I would not let you know till I was

dying; for you could not love me, my Mother was so naught.

_Leu._ I will love thee, or any thing: what? wilt

Thou leave me as soon as I know thee?

Speak one word to me: alas she's past it,

She will ne'er speak more.

What noise is that? it is no matter who

_Enter_ Ismenus _with the Lords_.

Comes on me now. What worse than mad are you

That seek out sorrows? if you love delights

Begone from hence.

_Isme._ Sir, for you we come, as Soldiers to revenge the wrongs

you have suffer'd under this naughty creature: what shall be

done with her? say, I am ready.

_Leu._ Leave her to Heaven, brave Cosin, they shall tell her

how she has sinn'd against 'em, my hand shall never be stain'd

with such base bloud: live wicked Mother: that reverend Title

be your pardon, for I will use no extremity against you, but

leave you to Heaven.

_Bacha._ Hell take you all, or if there be a place

Of torment that exceeds that, get you thither:

And till the devils have you, may your lives

Be one continued plague, and such a one,

That knows no friends nor ending.

May all ages that shall succeed, curse you as I do:

And if it be possible, I ask it heaven,

That your base issues may be ever Monsters,

That must for shame of nature and succession,

Be drown'd like dogs.

Would I had breath to [poyson] you.

_Leu._ Would you had love within you, and such grief

As might become a Mother: look you there,

Know you that face? that was _Urania_:

These are the fruits of those unhappy Mothers,

That labour with such horrid births as you do:

If you can weep, there's cause; poor innocent,

Your wickedness has kill'd her: I'll weep for you.

_Isme._ Monstrous woman,

_Mars_ would weep at this, and yet she cannot.

_Leu._ Here lies your Minion too, slain by my hand,

I will not say you are the cause: yet certain,

I know you were [to] blame, the gods forgive you.

_Isme._ See, she stands as if she were inventing

Some new destruction for the world.

_Leu. Ismenus_, thou art welcome yet to my sad company.

_Isme._ I come to make you somewhat sadder, Sir.

_Leu._ You cannot, I am at the height already.

_Isme._ Your Fathers dead.

_Leu._ I thought so, Heaven be with him: Oh woman, woman, weep

now or never, thou hast made more sorrows than we have eyes to

utter.

_Bac._ Now let Heaven fall, I am at the worst of evils, a thing

so miserably wretched, that every thing, the last of humane

comforts hath left me: I will not be so base and cold, to live

and wait the mercies of these men I hate, no, 'tis just I die,

since fortune hath left me, my step discent attends me: hand,

strike thou home, I have soul enough to guide; and let all

know, as I stood a Queen, the same I'll fall, and one with me.

[_She stabs the Prince with a knife._

_Leu._ Ho.

_Isme._ How do you, Sir?

_Leu._ Nearer my health, than I think any here, my tongue

begins to faulter: what is man? or who would be one, when he

sees a poor weak woman can in an instant make him none.

_Dor._ She is dead already.

_Isme._ Let her be damn'd already as she is: post all for

Surgeons.

_Leu._ Let not a man stirr, for I am but dead:

I have some few words which I would have you hear,

And am afraid I shall want breath to speak 'em:

First to you my Lords, you know _Ismenus_ is

Undoubtedly Heir of _Lycia_, I do beseech you all,

When I am dead, to shew your duties to him.

_Lords._ We vow to do't.

_Leu._ I thank you.

Next to you Cosin _Ismenus_, that shall be the Duke,

I pray you let the broken Image of _Cupid_

Be re-edified, I know all this is done by him.

_Isme._ It shall be so.

_Leu._ Last, I beseech you that my Mother-in-law may have a

burial according to-- [_Dies._

_Isme._ To what, Sir?

_Dor._ There is a full point.

_Isme._ I will interpret for him; she shall have burial

according to her own deserts, with dogs.

_Dor._ I would your Majesty would haste for setling of the

people.

_Isme._ I am ready.

_Age._ Goe, and let the Trumpets sound

Some mournful thing, whilst we convey the body

Of this unhappy Prince unto the Court,

And of that virtuous Virgin to a Grave:

But drag her to a ditch, where let her lie,

Accurst, whilst one man has a memory. [_Exeunt._

Cupid's _Speech_.

_The time now of my Revenge draws near._

_Nor shall it lessen as I am a god,_

_With all the cries and prayers that have been;_

_And those that be to come, though they be infinite,_

_In need and number._

The Two Noble Kinsmen.

The Persons represented in the Play.

Hymen,

Theseus,

Hippolita, }

Emelia, }_Sisters to_ Theseus

Nymphs,

Three Queens,

Three valiant Knights,

Palamon, } _'The two Noble Kinsmen, in_

Arcite, } _love with fair_ Emelia.

Perithous,

Jaylor,

His Daughter, _in love with_ Palamon,

Countrey-men,

Wenches,

A Taborer,

Gerrold, _A Schoolmaster_.