Chapter VIII: Part 8

_Alber._ Hence vile wretches,
To you I am a substance incorporeal,
And not to be prophan'd, with your vile touch?
That could so soon forget me, but such things
Are neither worth my Anger, nor reproof.
To you great Sir, I turn my self and these
Immediate Ministers of your Government,
And if in my rude language I transgress;
Ascribe it to the cold remembrance of
My services, and not my rugged temper.

_Duke._ Speak freely, be thy language ne'er so bitter,
To see thee safe _Alberto_, signes thy pardon.

_Alber._ My pardon? I can need none, if it be not
Receiv'd for an offence. I tamely bear
Wrongs, which a slave-born _Muscovite_ would check at.
Why if for Treason I had been deliver'd
Up to the Hangmans Axe, and this dead trunk
Unworthy of a Christian Sepulchre;
Expos'd a prey to feed the ravenous Vulture,
The memory of the much I oft did for you,
Had you but any touch of gratitude,
Or thought of my deservings, would have stopp'd you
From these unjust proceedings.

_Duke._ Hear the motives that did induce us.

_Alber._ I have heard them all,
Your Highness sentence, the whole Court abus'd,
By the perjuries and practice of this woman.
(Wepest thou _Crocodile_) my hopeful son,
Whom I dare swear mine own, degraded of
The honors that descend to him from me:
And from that, in his love scorn'd by a creature
Whose base birth, though made eminent by her beauty,
Might well have mark'd her out _Cesario's_ servant,
All this I could have pardon'd and forgot;
But that my daughter with my whole Estate
So hardly purchas'd, is assign'd a Dower;
To one whose Father, and whose Family
I so detest; that I would lose my essence
And be transformed to a Basiliske
To look them dead, to me's an injury
Admits no satisfaction.

_Bap._ There's none offer'd.

_Alber._ Nor would not be accepted,
Though upon thy knees 'twere tender'd.

_Maria._ Now the storm grows high.

_Bap._ But that I thought thee dead, and in thy death
The brinie Ocean had entomb'd thy name;
I would have sought a Wife in a _Bordello_
For my _Mentivole_, and gladly hugg'd
Her spurious issue as my lawful Nephews,
Before his blood should e'er have mix'd with thine;
So much I scorn it.

_Alber._ I'll not bandy words, but thus dissolve the contract.

_Bap._ There I meet thee, and seize on what's mine own.

_Alber._ For all my service,
Great Sir, grant me the combat with this wretch,
That I may scourge his insolence.

_Bap._ I kneel for it.

_Cesar._ And to approve my self _Alberto's_ Son,
I'll be his second upon any odds,
'Gainst him that dare most of _Baptista's_ race.

_Menti._ Already upon honourable terms,
In me thou hast met thy better, for her sake
I'll add no more.

_Alber._ Sir, let our swords decide it.

_Maria._ Oh stay Sir, and as you would hold the Title
Of a just Prince, e'r you grant licence to
These mad-mens fury, lend your private ear
To the most distress'd of Women.

_Duke._ Speak, 'tis granted. [_He takes_ Mariana _aside_.

_Clar._ In the mean time, let not _Clarissa_ be
A patient looker on, though as yet doubtful,
To whom to bend her knee first, yet to all
I stoop thus low in duty, and would wash
The dust of fury with my Virgin tears,
From his bless'd feet, and make them beautiful
That would move to conditions of peace,
Though with a snail-like pace, they all are wing'd
To bear you to destruction: reverend Sirs,
Think on your antient friendship cemented
With so much bloud, but shed in noble action,
Divided now in passion for a brawl;
The Makers blush to own, much lov'd _Cesario_.
Brother, or friend, (each Title may prevail,)
Remember with what tenderness from our childhood
We lov'd together, you preferring me
Before your self, and I so fond of you
That it begot suspition in ill minds
That our affection was incestuous.
Think of that happy time, in which I know
That with your dearest bloud you had prevented
This shower of tears from me; _Mentivole_,
My Husband, registred in that bright star-chamber,
Though now on earth made strangers, be the example
And offer in one hand the peaceful _Olive_
Of concord, or if that can be denied
By powerful intercession in the other
Carry the _Hermian_ rod, and force attonement,
Now we will not be all marble. Death's the worst then
And he shall be my Bridegroom. [_Offers to kill her self._

_Ment._ Hold _Clarissa_, his loving violence needs must
Offer in spite of honor.-- [_He snatches away her knife,
and sets it to his own breast, she staies his hand._

_Duke._ Was it to that end then on your Religion?

_Mar._ And my hope in Heaven, Sir.

_Duke._ We then will leave intreaties, and make use
Of our authority, must I cry ai-me
To this unheard of insolence? in my presence
To draw your swords, and as all reverence
That's due to Majesty were forfeited,
Cherish this wildeness! sheath them instantly,
And shew an alteration in your looks, or by my power.

_Alber._ Cut off my head.

_Bap._ And mine, rather than hear of peace with this bad man.
I'll not alone, give up my throat, but suffer
Your rage to reach my family.

_Enter_ Prospero, Juliana, Biancha.

_Alb._ And my name to be no more remembred.

_Duke._ What are these?

_Ces. Biancha_, 'tis _Biancha_, still _Biancha_: but strangely
alter'd.

_Bapt._ If that thirteen years
Of absence could raze from my memory
The figure of my friend, I might forget thee;
But if thy Image be graven on my heart,
Thou art my _Prospero_.

_Pros._ Thou my _Baptista_?

_Duke._ A suddain change!

_Bap._ I dare not ask, dear friend
If _Juliana_ live! for that's a blessing
I am unworthy of, but yet denie not
To let me know the place she hath made happy
By having there her Sepulchre.

_Pros._ If your Highness please to vouchsafe a patient
Ear, we shall make a true relation of a story
That shall call on your wonder.

_Duke._ Speak, we hear you.

_Pros. Baptista_'s fortune in the _Genoua_ Court,
His banishment, with his fair Wife's restraint
You are acquainted with; what since hath follow'd
I faithfully will deliver. E'r eight Moons
After _Baptista_'s absence were compleat,
Fair _Juliana_ found the pleasures, that
They had injoy'd together, were not barren,
And blushing at the burthen of her womb,
No father near to own it, it drew on
A violent sickness, which call'd down compassion
From the angry Duke, then careful of her health.
Physitians were enquir'd of, and their judgment
Prescrib'd the Baths of _Luca_ as a means
For her recovery; to my charge it pleas'd her
To be committed; but as on the way
We journey'd, those throws only known to Women
Came thick upon her, in a private Village.

_Bap._ She died?

_Pros._ Have patience, she brought to the world
A hopeful Daughter; for her bodies sickness
It soon decay'd, but the grief of her mind
Hourly increas'd, and life grew tedious to her,
And desperate e'er to see you; she injoyn'd me
To place her in a _Greekish_ Monastery,
And to my care gave up her pretty Daughter.

_Bapt._ What Monastery? as a Pilgrim bare-foot,
I'll search it out.

_Pros._ Pray you interrupt me not,
Now to my fortunes; the girl well dispos'd of
With a faithful friend of mine, my cruel fate
Made me a prisoner to the _Turkish_ Gallies,
Where for 12 years, these hands tugg'd at the Oar,
But fortune tyr'd at length with my afflictions,
Some Ships of _Maltha_ met the _Ottoman_ Fleet,
Charg'd them, and boarded them, and gave me freedom.
With my deliverers I serv'd, and got
Such reputation with the great Master
That he gave me command over a tall
And lusty ship, where my first happy service
Was to redeem _Alberto_ rumour'd dead,
But was like me surpriz'd by _Cortugogly_.

_Alber._ I would I had died there.

_Pros._ And from him learning
_Baptista_ liv'd, and their dissolv'd friendship,
I hois'd up sails for _Greece_, found _Juliana_
A votary at her Beads; having made known
Both that you liv'd, and where you were: she borrow'd
So much from her devotion, as to wish me
To bring her to you; if the object please you,
With joy receive her.

_Bapt._ Rage and fury leave me. [_Throws away his sword._
I am so full of happiness, there's no room left
To entertain you, oh my long lost Jewel,
Light of mine eyes, my souls strength.

_Julia._ My best Lord, having embrac'd you thus,
Death cannot fright me.

_Bapt._ Live long to do so, though I should fix here.
Pardon me _Prospero_, though I enquire my daughters fortune.

_Pros._ That your happiness
May be at all parts perfect, here she is!

_Ces. Biancha_, daughter to a Princess.

_Pros._ True with my faithful Host I left her,
And with him till now she hath resided,
Ignorant both of her birth and greatness.

_Bap._ Oh my blest one. Joy upon joy o'erwhelms me.

_Duke._ Above wonder.

_Alb._ I do begin to melt too, this strange story
Works much upon me.

_Duke._ Since it hath pleas'd heaven
To grace us with this miracle, I that am
Heavens instrument here, determine thus; _Alberto_
Be not unthankful for the blessings shown you,
Nor you _Baptista_; discord was yet never
A welcome sacrifice; therefore rage laid by,
Embrace as friends, and let pass'd difference
Be as a dream forgotten.

_Bap._ 'Tis to me.

_Alber._ And me, and thus confirm it.

_Duke._ And to tye it
In bonds not to be broken, with the marriage
Of young _Mentivole_, and fair _Clarissa_,
So you consent great Lady, your _Biancha_
Shall call _Cæsario_ Husband.

_Julia._ 'Tis a motion I gladly yield to.

_Cesar._ One in which you make a sad man happy. [_Offers to kneel._

_Bian._ Kneel not, all forgiven.

_Duke._ With the Duke your Uncle I will make attonement, and
will have no denial.

_Enter Host_, Forobosco, _Clown and Officers_.

_Mar._ Let this day be still held sacred.

_Host._ Now if you can conjure, let the Devil unbind you.

_Foro._ We are both undone.

_Clow._ Already we feel it.

_Host._ Justice Sir.

_Duke._ What are they?

_Pros._ I can resolve you, slaves freed from the Gallies
By the Viceroy of _Sicilia_.

_Duke._ What's their offence?

_Host._ The robbing me of all my Plate and Jewels, I mean the
attempting of it.

_Clow._ Please your Grace I will now discover this Varlet
in earnest, this honest pestilent rogue, profest the Art of
Conjuring, but all the skill that ever he had in the black Art,
was in making a Seacole fire; only with wearing strange shapes,
he begot admiration amongst Fools and Women.

_Foro._ Wilt thou peach thou varlet?

_Duke._ Why does he goggle with his eyes, and stalke so?

_Clow._ This is one of his Magical raptures.

_Foro._ I do vilifie your censure, you demand if I am guilty,
whir says my cloak by a trick of Legerdemain, now I am not
guilty, I am guarded with innocence, pure Silver Lace I assure
you.

_Clow._ Thus have I read to you your virtues, which
notwithstanding I would not have you proud of.

_Foro._ Out thou concealment of Tallow, and counterfeit
_Mummia_.

_Duke._ To the Gallies with them both.

_Clow._ The only Sea-physick for a knave, is to be basted in a
Gally, with the oil of a Bulls Peesel.

_Foro._ And will not you make a sour face at the same sauce,
sirrah? I hope to find thee so lean in one fortnight, thou
mayst be drawn by the ears through the hoop of [a] firkin.

_Duke._ Divide them, and away with them to th' Gallies.

_Clow._ This will take down your pride, Jugler.

_Duke._ This day that hath given birth to blessings beyond
hope, admits no criminal sentence: to the Temple, and there
with humbleness, praise heavens bounties;

For blessings ne'er descend from thence, but when
A sacrifice in thanks ascends from men. [_Exeunt omnes._

CUPID'S REVENGE.

The Persons represented in the Play.

Cupid.
Leontius, _the old Duke of_ Lycia.
Leucippus, _Son to the Duke_.
Ismenus, _Nephew to the Duke_.
Telamon, _a_ Lycian _Lord_.
Dorialus, }
Agenor, } _Courtiers_.
Nisus, }
Timantus, _a villainous Sycophant_.
The Priest _of_ Cupid.
_Four young Men and Maids._
Nilo, _sent in Commission to pull down_ Cupid_'s Image_.
Zoilus, Leucippus_'s Dwarf_.
_Four Citizens._

WOMEN.

Hidaspes, _Daughter to the Duke_.
Cleophila, _and_ Hero _her Attendants_.
Bacha, _a Strumpet_.
Urania, _her Daughter_.
Bacha's _Maid_.
Urania's _Maid._
_Servants and Attendants._

_Actus Primus. Scæna Prima._

_Enter_ Dorialus, Agenor, Nisus.

_Agenor._ Trust me my Lord _Dorialus_, I had mist of this, if
you had not call'd me; I thought the Princesses birth-day had
been to morrow.

_Nisus._ Why, did your Lordship sleep out the day?

_Dor._ I marvel what the Duke meant to make such an idle vow.

_Nis._ Idle, why?

_Dor._ Is't not idle, to swear to grant his Daughter any thing
she shall ask on her birth-day? she may ask an impossible
thing: and I pray heaven she do not ask an unfit thing at one
time or other; 'tis dangerous trusting a mans vow upon the
discretion on's Daughter.

_Age._ I wonder most at the Marquis her Brother, who is always
vehemently forward to have her desires granted.

_Dor._ He's acquainted with 'em before.

_Age._ She's doubtless very chaste and virtuou.

_Dor._ So is _Leucippus_ her brother.

_Nis._ She's twenty year old, I wonder
She aske not a Husband.

_Dor._ That were a folly in her; having refus'd all the
Great Princes in one part of the world;
She'll die a Maid.

_Age._ She may ask but one, may she?

_Nis._ A hundred times this day if she will;
And indeed, every day is such a day, for though
The Duke has vow'd it only on this day,
He keeps it every day: he can deny
Her nothing. [_Cornets._

_Enter_ Hidaspes, Leucippus, Leontius, _Timantas_, _Tellamon_.

_Leon._ Come fair _Hidaspes_, thou art
Duchess to day,
Art thou prepar'd to aske, thou knowest
My oath will force performance.
And _Leucippus_, if she now ask ought that shall,
Or would have performance
After my death, when by the help of heaven,
This Land is thine, accursed be thy race,
May every one forget thou art my Son,
And so their own obedience.

_Leucip._ Mighty Sir,
I do not wish to know that fatal hour,
That is to make me King, but if I do,
I shall most hastily, (and like a Son)
Perform your grant[s] to all, chiefly to her:
Remember that you aske what we
Agreed upon.

_Leon._ Are you prepar'd? then speak.

_Hida._ Most Royal Sir, I am prepar'd,
Nor shall my Will exceed a Virgins bounds,
What I request shall both at once bring
Me a full content.

_Leon._ So it ever does:
Thou only comfort of my feeble age,
Make known thy good desire,
For I dare swear thou lov'st me.

_Hidas._ This is it I beg,
And on my knees. The people of your Land,
The _Lycians_, are through all the Nations
That know their name, noted to have in use
A vain and fruitless superstition;
So much more hateful, that it bears the shew
Of true Religion, and is nothing else
But a false-pleasing bold lasciviousness.

_Leon._ What is it?

_Hidas._ Many ages before this,
When every man got to himself a Trade,
And was laborious in that chosen course,
Hating an idle life, far worse than death:
Some one that gave himself to Wine and Sloth,
Which breed lascivious thoughts;
And found himself conjoyn'd
For that by every painful man,
To take his stain away, fram'd to himself
A _god_, whom he pretended to obey,
In being thus dishonest, for a name
He call'd him _Cupid_. This created _god_,
Mans nature being ever credulous
Of any vice that takes part with his blood,
Had ready followers enow: and since
In every age they grew, especially
Amongst your Subjects, who do yet remain
Adorers of that drowsie Deitie:
Which drink invented: and the winged Boy,
(For so they call him) has his sacrifices.
These loose naked statues through the Land,
And in every Village, nay the palace
Is not free from 'em. This is my request,
That these erect[ed] obscene Images
May be pluckt down and burnt: and every man
That offers to 'em any sacrifice, may lose his life.

_Leon._ But be advis'd my fairest daughter, if he be
A god, he will express it upon thee my child:
Which heaven avert.

_Leucip._ There is no such power:
But the opinion of him fills the Land
With lustful sins: every young man and maid
That feel the least desire to one another,
Dare not suppress it, for they think it is
Blind _Cupid's_ motion: and he is a god.

_Leon._ This makes our youth unchaste. I am resolv'd:
Nephew _Ismenus_, break the Statues down
Here in the Palace, and command the City
Do the like, let proclamations
Be drawn, and hastily sent through the Land
To the same purpose.

_Ismen._ Sir, I will break down none my self,
But I will deliver your command:
Hand I will have none in't, for I like it not.

_Leon._ Goe and command it. Pleasure of my life,
Wouldst thou ought else? make many thousand suits,
They must and shall be granted.

_Hid._ Nothing else. [_Exit_ Ismenus.

_Leon._ But go and meditate on other suits,
Some six days hence I'll give thee Audience again,
And by a new oath, bind my self to keep it:
Ask largely for thy self, dearer than life
In whom I may be bold to call my self,
More fortunate than any in my age,
I will deny thee nothing.

_Leu._ 'Twas well done, Sister. [_Exeunt all but these three Lords._

_Nis._ How like you this request my Lord[s]?

_Dor._ I know not yet, I am so full of wonder,
We shall be gods our selves shortly,
And we pull 'em out of Heaven o' this fashion.

_Age._ We shall have wenches now when we can
Catch 'em, and we transgress thus.

_Nis._ And we abuse the gods once, 'tis a Justice
We should be held at hard meat: for my part,
I'll e'en make ready for mine own affection,
I know the god incenst must send a hardness
Through all good Womens hearts, and then we have
Brought our Eggs and Muskadine to a fair Market:
Would I had giv'n a 100 l. for a tolleration,
That I might but use my conscience in mine
Own house.

_Dor._ The Duke he's old and past it, he would
Never have brought such a plague upon the Land else,
'Tis worse than Sword and Famine:
Yet to say truth, we have deserv'd it, we have liv'd
So wickedly, every man at his Livery, and wou'd that
Wou'd have suffic'd us: we murmur'd at this
Blessing, that was nothing; and cry'd out to the
God for endless pleasures, he heard us,
And supp[l]ied us, and our Women were new still
As we need 'em: yet we like beasts still cry'd,
Poor men can number their woers, give us
Abundance: we had it, and this curse withal.

_Age._ Berlady we are like to have a long _Lent_ on't,
Flesh shall be flesh: now Gentlemen I had rather
Have anger'd all the gods, than that blind Gunner.
I remem[b]er once the people did but slight him
In a sacrifice: and what followed?
Women kept their houses, grew good huswives
Honest forsooth! was not that fine?
Wore their own faces,
Though they wear gay cloaths without surveying,
And which was most lamentable,
They lov'd their Husbands.

_Nis._ I do remember it to my grief,
Young Maids were as cold as Cowcumbers
And much of that complexion:
Bawds were abolisht: and, to which misery
It must come again,
There were no Cuckolds,
Well, we had need pray to keep these
Divels from us,
The times grow mischievous.
There he goes, Lord!

_Enter one with an Image._

This is a sacriledge I have not heard of:
Would I were gelt, that I might not
Feel what follows.

_Age._ And I too. You shall see within these
Few years, a fine confusion i'the Countrey: mark it:
Nay, and we grow for to depose the Powers,
And set up Chastity again, well, I have done.
A fine new goddess certainly, whose blessings
Are hunger and hard beds.

_Nis._ This comes of fulness, a sin too frequent with us
I believe now we shall find shorter commons.

_Dor._ Would I were married, somewhat has some favour;
The race of Gentry will quite run out now,
'Tis only left to Husbands, if younger Sisters
Take not the greater charity, 'tis lawful.

_Age._ Well, let come what will come,
I am but one, and as the plague falls,
I'll shape my self: If Women will be honest, I'll be sound.
If the _god_ be not too unmerciful,
I'll take a little still, where I can get it,
And thank him, and say nothing.

_Nis._ This ill wind yet may blow the City good,
And let them, (if they can) get their own children,
They have hung long enough in doubt, but howsoever, the
old way was the surer, then they had 'em.

_Dor._ Farewel my Lords, I'll e'en take up what Rent I can
before the day, I fear the year will fall out ill.

_Age._ We'll with you Sir: And love so favour us,
As we are still thy servants. Come my Lords;
Let's to the Duke, and tell him to what folly
His doting now has brought him. [_Exeunt._

_Priest of_ Cupid, _with four young men_
_and Maids_.

_Priest._ Come my children, let your feet,
In an even measure meet:
And your chearful voices rise,
For to present this Sacrifice;
Lo great _Cupid_, in whose name,
I his _Priest_ begin the same.
Young men take your Loves and kiss,
Thus our _Cupid_ honour'd is
Kiss again, and in your kissing,
Let no promises be missing:
Nor let any Maiden here,
Dare to turn away her ear,
Unto the whisper of her Love,
But give Bracelet, Ring or Glove,
As a token to her sweeting,
Of an after secret meeting:
Now boy sing to stick our hearts
Fuller of great _Cupid's_ darts.

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.