Chapter XCVIII: Act V: Scene I.3398

_Enter_ EVADNE _and a_ Gentleman [_of the Bedchamber_].

_Evad._ Sir, is the King a-bed?

_Gent._ Madam, an hour ago.

_Evad._ Give me the key, then, and let none be near;
’T is the King’s pleasure.

_Gent._ I understand you, madam; would ’t were mine!
I must not wish good rest unto your ladyship. 5

_Evad._ You talk, you talk.

_Gent._ ’T is all I dare do, madam; but the King
Will wake, and then, methinks—

_Evad._ Saving your imagination, pray, good night, sir.

_Gent._ A good night be it, then, and a long one, madam. 10
I am gone. _Exit._

_Evad._[3399] The night grows horrible; and all about me
Like my black purpose. Oh, the conscience _King abed._
Of a lost virgin,[3400] whither wilt thou pull me?
To what things dismal as the depth of hell 15
Wilt thou provoke me? Let no woman dare
From this hour be disloyal, if her heart be flesh,
If she have blood, and can fear. ’T is a daring
Above that desperate fool’s that left his peace,
And went to sea to fight: ’t is so many sins, 20
An age cannot repent ’em; and so great,
The gods want mercy for. Yet I must through ’em:
I have begun a slaughter on my honour,
And I must end it there.—’A sleeps. Good Heavens! 24
Why give you peace to this untemperate beast,
That hath so long transgrest you? I must kill him,
And I will do it bravely: the mere joy
Tells me, I merit in it. Yet I must not
Thus tamely do it as he sleeps—that were
To rock him to another world: my vengeance 30
Shall take him waking, and then lay before him
The number of his wrongs and punishments.
I ’ll shape his sins like Furies, till I waken
His evil angel, his sick conscience,
And then I ’ll strike him dead.—King, by your leave;—
_Ties his arms to the bed._ 35
I dare not trust your strength; your grace and I
Must grapple upon even terms no more.
So, if he rail me not from my resolution,
I shall be strong enough.—My lord the King!
My lord!—’A sleeps, as if he meant to wake 40
No more.—My lord!—Is he not dead already?—
Sir! My lord!

_King._ Who ’s that?

_Evad._ Oh, you sleep soundly sir!

_King._ My dear Evadne,
I have been dreaming of thee; come to bed.

_Evad._ I am come at length, sir; but how welcome? 45

_King._ What pretty new device is this, Evadne?
What, do you tie me to you? By my love,
This is a quaint one. Come, my dear, and kiss me;
I ’ll be thy Mars; to bed, my queen of love.
Let us be caught together, that the gods 50
May see and envy our embraces.

_Evad._ Stay, sir, stay;
You are too hot, and I have brought you physic
To temper your high veins.

_King._ Prithee, to bed, then; let me take it warm;
There thou shalt know the state of my body better. 55

_Evad._ I know you have a surfeited foul body;
And you must bleed. [_Draws a knife._]

_King._ Bleed!

_Evad._ Ay, you shall bleed. Lie still; and, if the devil,
Your lust, will give you leave, repent. This steel
Comes to redeem the honour that you stole, 60
King, my fair name; which nothing but thy death
Can answer to the world.

_King._ How ’s this, Evadne?

_Evad._ I am not she; nor bear I in this breast
So much cold spirit to be call’d a woman:
I am a tiger; I am any thing 65
That knows not pity. Stir not! If thou dost,
I ’ll take thee unprepar’d, thy fears upon thee,
That make thy sins look double, and so send thee
(By my revenge, I will!) to look those torments
Prepar’d for such black souls. 70

_King._ Thou dost not mean this; ’t is impossible;
Thou art too sweet and gentle.

_Evad._ No, I am not:
I am as foul as thou art, and can number
As many such hells here. I was once fair,
Once I was lovely; not a blowing rose 75
More chastely sweet, till thou, thou, thou, foul canker,[3401]
(Stir not!) didst poison me. I was a world of virtue,
Till your curst court and you (Hell bless you for ’t!)
With your temptations on temptations
Made me give up mine honour; for which, King, 80
I am come to kill thee.

_King._ No!

_Evad._ I am.

_King._ Thou art not!
I prithee speak not these things. Thou art gentle,
And wert not meant thus rugged.

_Evad._ Peace, and hear me.
Stir nothing but your tongue, and that for mercy
To those above us; by whose lights I vow, 85
Those blessed fires[3402] that shot to see our sin,
If thy hot soul had substance with thy blood,
I would kill that too; which, being past my steel,
My tongue shall reach. Thou art a shameless villain;
A thing out of the overcharge of nature 90
Sent, like a thick cloud, to disperse a plague
Upon weak catching[3403] women; such a tyrant,
That for his lust would sell away his subjects,
Ay, all his Heaven hereafter!

_King._ Hear, Evadne,
Thou soul of sweetness, hear! I am thy King.

_Evad._ Thou art my shame! Lie still; there ’s none about you, 96
Within your cries; all promises of safety
Are but deluding dreams. Thus, thus, thou foul man,
Thus I begin my vengeance! _Stabs him._

_King._ Hold, Evadne!
I do command thee hold.

_Evad._ I do not mean, sir, 100
To part so fairly with you; we must change
More of these love-tricks yet.

_King._ What bloody villain
Provokt thee to this murder?

_Evad._ Thou, thou monster!

_King._ Oh!

_Evad._ Thou kept’st me brave[3404] at court, and whor’d me, King; 105
Then married me to a young noble gentleman,
And whor’d me still.

_King._ Evadne, pity me!

_Evad._ Hell take me, then! This for my lord Amintor.
This for my noble brother! And this stroke
For the most wrong’d of women! _Kills him._

_King._ Oh! I die. 110

_Evad._ Die all our faults together! I forgive thee. _Exit._

_Enter two [Gentlemen] of the bed-chamber._

_1 Gent._ Come, now she ’s gone, let ’s enter; the King expects it,
and will be angry.

_2 Gent._ ’T is a fine wench; we ’ll have a snap at her one of these
nights, as she goes from (115) him.

_1 Gent._ Content. How quickly he had done with her! I see kings can
do no more that way than other mortal people.

_2 Gent._ How fast he is! I cannot hear him breathe. 120

_1 Gent._ Either the tapers give a feeble light,
Or he looks very pale.

_2 Gent._ And so he does:
Pray Heaven he be well; let ’s look.—Alas!
He ’s stiff, wounded, and dead! Treason, treason!

_1 Gent._ Run forth and call. 125

_2 Gent._ Treason, treason! _Exit._

_1 Gent._ This will be laid on us:
Who can believe a woman could do this?

_Enter_ CLEON _and_ LYSIPPUS.

_Cleon._ How now! where ’s the traitor?

_1 Gent._ Fled, fled away; but there her woeful act
Lies still. 130

_Cleon._ Her act! a woman!

_Lys._ Where’s the body?

_1 Gent._ There.

_Lys._ Farewell, thou worthy man! There were two bonds
That tied our loves, a brother and a king.
The least of which might fetch a flood of tears;
But such the misery of greatness is, 136
They have no time to mourn; then, pardon me!
Sirs, which way went she?

_Enter_ STRATO.

_Stra._ Never follow her;
For she, alas! was but the instrument.
News is now brought in that Melantius 140
Has got the fort, and stands upon the wall,
And with a loud voice calls those few that pass
At this dead time of night, delivering
The innocence of this act.

_Lys._ Gentlemen,
I am your King.

_Stra._ We do acknowledge it. 145

_Lys._ I would I were not! Follow, all; for this
Must have a sudden stop. _Exeunt._

[SCENE II.][3405]

_Enter_ MELANTIUS, DIPHILUS, _and_ CALIANAX, _on the Walls_.

_Mel._ If the dull people can believe I am arm’d,
(Be constant, Diphilus.) now we have time
Either to bring our banisht honours home,
Or create new ones in our ends.

_Diph._ I fear not;
My spirit lies not that way.—Courage, Calianax! 5

_Cal._ Would I had any! you should quickly know it.

_Mel._ Speak to the people; thou art eloquent.

_Cal._ ’T is a fine eloquence to come to the gallows:
You were born to be my end; the devil take you!
Now must I hang for company. ’T is strange, 10
I should be old, and neither wise nor valiant.

_Enter_ LYSIPPUS, DIAGORAS, CLEON, STRATO, _and_ Guard.

_Lys._ See where he stands, as boldly confident
As if he had his full command about him.

_Stra._ He looks as if he had the better cause, sir;
Under your gracious pardon, let me speak it! 15
Though he be mighty-spirited, and forward
To all great things, to all things of that danger
Worse men shake at the telling of, yet certainly
I do believe him noble, and this action
Rather pull’d on than sought: his mind was ever 20
As worthy as his hand.

_Lys._ ’T is my fear, too.
Heaven forgive all!—Summon him, Lord Cleon.

_Cleon._ Ho, from the walls there!

_Mel._ Worthy Cleon, welcome:
We could have wisht you here, lord; you are honest.

_Cal._ (_Aside._) Well, thou art as flattering a knave, though 25
I dare not tell thee so——

_Lys._ Melantius!

_Mel._ Sir?

_Lys._ I am sorry that we meet thus; our old love
Never requir’d such distance. Pray to Heaven,
You have not left yourself, and sought this safety
More out of fear than honour! You have lost 30
A noble master, which your faith, Melantius,
Some think might have preserv’d: yet you know best.

_Cal._ [_Aside._] When time was, I was mad: some that dares fight,
I hope will pay this rascal.

_Mel._ Royal young man, those tears look lovely on thee: 35
Had they been shed for a deserving one,
They had been lasting monuments. Thy brother,
Whilst he was good, I call’d him King, and serv’d him
With that strong faith, that most unwearied valour,
Pull’d people from the farthest sun to seek him, 40
And buy his friendship. I was then his soldier.
But since his hot pride drew him to disgrace me,
And brand my noble actions with his lust,
(That never-cur’d dishonour of my sister,
Base stain of whore, and, which is worse, the joy 45
To make it still so,) like myself, thus I
Have flung him off with my allegiance;
And stand here, mine own justice, to revenge
What I have suffered in him, and this old man
Wrong’d almost to lunacy.

_Cal._ Who, I? 50
You would draw me in. I have had no wrong;
I do disclaim ye all.

_Mel._ The short is this.
’T is no ambition to lift up myself
Urgeth me thus; I do desire again
To be a subject, so I may be free: 55
If not, I know my strength, and will unbuild
This goodly town. Be speedy, and be wise,
In a reply.

_Stra._ Be sudden, sir, to tie
All up again. What ’s done is past recall,
And past you to revenge; and there are thousands 60
That wait for such a troubled hour as this.
Throw him the blank.

_Lys._ Melantius, write in that
Thy choice: my seal is at it. [_Throws a paper to_ MELANTIUS.]

_Mel._ It was our honours drew us to this act,
Not gain; and we will only work our pardons. 65

_Cal._ Put my name in too.

_Diph._ You disclaim’d us all
But now, Calianax.

_Cal._ That ’s all one;
I ’ll not be hang’d hereafter by a trick:
I ’ll have it in.

_Mel._ You shall, you shall.—
Come to the back gate, and we ’ll call you King, 70
And give you up the fort.

_Lys._ Away, away. _Exeunt._

[SCENE III.][3406]

_Enter_ ASPATIA, _in man’s apparel_, [_and with artificial scars on her face_.]

_Asp._ This is my fatal hour. Heaven may forgive
My rash attempt, that causelessly hath laid
Griefs on me that will never let me rest,
And put a woman’s heart into my breast.
It is more honour for you that I die; 5
For she that can endure the misery
That I have on me, and be patient too,
May live and laugh at all that you can do.
_Enter_ Servant.
God save you, sir!

_Ser._ And you, sir! What ’s your business?

_Asp._ With you, sir, now; to do me the fair office 10
To help me to your lord.

_Ser._ What, would you serve him?

_Asp._ I ’ll do him any service; but, to haste,
For my affairs are earnest, I desire
To speak with him.

_Ser._ Sir, because you are in such haste, I would 15
Be loth delay you longer: you can not.

_Asp._ It shall become you, though, to tell your lord.

_Ser._ Sir, he will speak with nobody;
[But in particular, I have in charge,
About no weighty matters.][3407]

_Asp._ This is most strange. 20
Art thou gold-proof? There ’s for thee; help me to him.
[_Gives money._]

_Ser._ Pray be not angry, sir: I ’ll do my best. _Exit._

_Asp._ How stubbornly this fellow answer’d me!
There is a vile dishonest trick in man,
More than in women. All the men I meet 25
Appear thus to me, are harsh and rude,
And have a subtilty in every thing,
Which love could never know; but we fond women
Harbour the easiest and the smoothest thoughts.
And think all shall go so. It is unjust 30
That men and women should be matcht together.

_Enter_ AMINTOR _and his_ man.

_Amin._ Where is he?

_Ser._ There, my lord.

_Amin._ What would you, sir?

_Asp._ Please it your lordship to command your man
Out of the room, I shall deliver things
Worthy your hearing.

_Amin._ Leave us. [_Exit_ Servant.]

_Asp._ (_Aside._) Oh, that that shape 35
Should bury falsehood in it!

_Amin._ Now your will, sir.

_Asp._ When you know me, my lord, you needs must guess
My business; and I am not hard to know;
For, till the chance of war markt this smooth face
With these few blemishes, people would call me 40
My sister’s picture, and her mine. In short,
I am brother to the wrong’d Aspatia.

_Amin._ The wrong’d Aspatia! Would thou wert so too
Unto the wrong’d Amintor! Let me kiss
That hand of thine, in honour that I bear 45
Unto the wrong’d Aspatia. Here I stand
That did it. Would he could not! Gentle youth,
Leave me; for there is something in thy looks
That calls my sins in a most hideous form
Into my mind; and I have grief enough 50
Without thy help.

_Asp._ I would I could with credit!
Since I was twelve years old, I had not seen
My sister till this hour I now arriv’d:
She sent for me to see her marriage,—
A woful one! but they that are above 55
Have ends in everything. She us’d few words,
But yet enough to make me understand
The baseness of the injuries you did her.
That little training I have had is war:
I may behave myself rudely in peace; 60
I would not, though. I shall not need to tell you
I am but young, and would be loth to lose
Honour, that is not easily gain’d again.
Fairly I mean to deal: the age is strict
For single combats; and we shall be stopt, 65
If it be publisht. If you like your sword,
Use it; if mine appear a better to you,
Change; for the ground is this, and this the time,
To end our difference. [_Draws._]

_Amin._ Charitable youth,
If thou be’st such, think not I will maintain 70
So strange a wrong: and, for thy sister’s sake,
Know, that I could not think that desperate thing
I durst not do; yet, to enjoy this world.
I would not see her; for, beholding thee,
I am I know not what. If I have aught 75
That may content thee, take it, and begone.
For death is not so terrible as thou;
Thine eyes shoot guilt into me.

_Asp._ Thus, she swore,
Thou wouldst behave thyself, and give me words
That would fetch tears into my eyes; and so 80
Thou dost indeed. But yet she bade me watch
Lest I were cozen’d; and be sure to fight
Ere I return’d.

_Amin._ That must not be with me.
For her I ’ll die directly; but against her
Will never hazard it.

_Asp._ You must be urg’d. 85
I do not deal uncivilly with those
That dare to fight; but such a one as you
Must be us’d thus. _She strikes him._

_Amin._ I prithee, youth, take heed.
Thy sister is a thing to me so much 90
Above mine honour, that I can endure
All this—Good gods! a blow I can endure;
But stay not, lest thou draw a timeless [3408] death
Upon thyself.

_Asp._ Thou art some prating fellow;
One that hath studied out a trick to talk, 95
And move soft hearted people; to be kickt. _She kicks him._
Thus to be kickt.—(_Aside._) Why should he be so slow
In giving me my death?

_Amin._ A man can bear
No more, and keep his flesh. Forgive me, then!
I would endure yet, if I could. Now show [_Draws._] 100
The spirit thou pretend’st, and understand
Thou hast no hour to live. _They fight_; [ASPATIA _is wounded_.]
What dost thou mean?
Thou canst not fight: the blows thou mak’st at me
Are quite besides; and those I offer at thee,
Thou spread’st thine arms, and tak’st upon thy breast, 105
Alas, defenceless!

_Asp._ I have got enough.
And my desire. There is no place so fit
For me to die as here. [_Falls._]

_Enter_ EVADNE, _her hands bloody_, _with a knife_.

_Evad._ Amintor, I am loaden with events,
That fly to make thee happy; I have joys, 110
That in a moment can call back thy wrongs,
And settle thee in thy free state again.
It is Evadne still that follows thee,
But not her mischiefs. 114

_Amin._ Thou canst not fool me to believe again;
But thou hast looks and things so full of news,
That I am stay’d.

_Evad._ Noble Amintor, put off thy amaze,
Let thine eyes loose, and speak. Am I not fair?
Looks not Evadne beauteous with these rites now? 120
Were those hours half so lovely in thine eyes
When our hands met before the holy man?
I was too foul inside to look fair then:
Since I knew ill, I was not free till now.

_Amin._ There is presage of some important thing 125
About thee, which, it seems, thy tongue hath lost.
Thy hands are bloody, and thou hast a knife.

_Evad._ In this consists thy happiness and mine.
Joy to Amintor! for the King is dead.

_Amin._ Those have most power to hurt us, that we love; 130
We lay our sleeping lives within their arms.
Why, thou hast rais’d up mischief to his height,
And found one to out-name[3409] thy other faults;
Thou hast no intermission of thy sins
But all thy life is a continued ill. 135
Black is thy colour now, disease thy nature.
Joy to Amintor! Thou hast toucht a life,
The very name of which had power to chain
Up all my rage, and calm my wildest wrongs.

_Evad._ ’T is done; and, since I could not find a way 140
To meet thy love so clear as through his life,
I cannot now repent it.

_Amin._ Couldst thou procure the gods to speak to me,
To bid me love this woman and forgive, 144
I think I should fall out with them. Behold,
Here lies a youth whose wounds bleed in my breast,
Sent by a violent fate to fetch his death
From my slow hand! And, to augment my woe,
You now are present, stain’d with a king’s blood
Violently shed. This keeps night here, 150
And throws an unknown wilderness[3410] about me.

_Asp._ Oh, oh, oh!

_Amin._ No more; pursue me not.

_Evad._ Forgive me, then,
And take me to thy bed: we may not part. [_Kneels._]

_Amin._ Forbear, be wise, and let my rage go this way. 155

_Evad._ ’T is you that I would stay, not it.

_Amin._ Take heed;
It will return with me.

_Evad._ If it must be,
I shall not fear to meet it. Take me home.

_Amin._ Thou monster of cruelty, forbear!

_Evad._ For Heaven’s sake look more calm! Thine eyes are sharper 160
Than thou canst make thy sword.

_Amin._ Away, away!
Thy knees are more to me than violence.
I am worse than sick to see knees follow me
For that I must not grant. For God’s sake, stand.

_Evad._ Receive me, then.

_Amin._ I dare not stay thy language. 165
In midst of all my anger and my grief,
Thou dost awake something that troubles me,
And says, I lov’d thee once. I dare not stay;
There is no end of woman’s reasoning. _Leaves her._

_Evad._ [_rising._] Amintor, thou shalt love me now again. 170
Go; I am calm. Farewell, and peace for ever!
Evadne, whom thou hat’st, will die for thee. _Stabs herself._

_Amin._ (_returning._) I have a little human nature yet,
That ’s left for thee, that bids me stay thy hand.

_Evad._ Thy hand was welcome, but it came too late. 175
Oh, I am lost! the heavy sleep makes haste. _She dies._

_Asp._ Oh, oh, oh!

_Amin._ This earth of mine doth tremble, and I feel
A stark affrighted motion in my blood.
My soul grows weary of her house, and I 180
All over am a trouble to myself.
There is some hidden power in these dead things,
That calls my flesh unto ’em; I am cold.
Be resolute and bear ’em company.
There ’s something yet, which I am loth to leave: 185
There ’s man enough in me to meet the fears
That death can bring; and yet would it were done!
I can find nothing in the whole discourse
Of death, I durst not meet the boldest way;
Yet still, betwixt the reason and the act, 190
The wrong I to Aspatia did stands up;
I have not such another fault to answer.
Though she may justly arm herself with scorn
And hate of me, my soul will part less troubled,
When I have paid to her in tears my sorrow, 195
I will not leave this act unsatisfied,
If all that ’s left in me can answer it.

_Asp._ Was it a dream? There stands Amintor still;
Or I dream still.

_Amin._ How dost thou? speak; receive my love and help. 200
Thy blood climbs up to his old place again;
There ’s hope of thy recovery.

_Asp._ Did you not name Aspatia?

_Amin._ I did.

_Asp._ And talkt of tears and sorrow unto her?

_Amin._ ’T is true; and, till these happy signs in thee 205
Did stay my course, ’t was thither I was going.

_Asp._ Thou art there already, and these wounds are hers.
Those threats I brought with me sought not revenge,
But came to fetch this blessing from thy hand:
I am Aspatia yet. 210

_Amin._ Dare my soul ever look abroad again?

_Asp._ I shall sure live, Amintor; I am well;
A kind of healthful joy wanders within me.

_Amin._ The world wants lives to excuse thy loss; 214
Come, let me bear thee to some place of help.

_Asp._ Amintor, thou must stay; I must rest here;
My strength begins to disobey my will.
How dost thou, my best soul? I would fain live
Now, if I could. Wouldst thou have lov’d me, then?

_Amin._ Alas, 220
All that I am ’s not worth a hair from thee!

_Asp._ Give me thy hand; mine hands grope up and down.
And cannot find thee; I am wondrous sick.
Have I thy hand, Amintor?

_Amin._ Thou greatest blessing of the world, thou hast. 225

_Asp._ I do believe thee better than my sense.
Oh, I must go! farewell! _Dies._

_Amin._ She swoons.[3411]—Aspatia!—Help! for God’s sake, water,
Such as may chain life ever to this frame!—
Aspatia, speak!—What, no help yet? I fool!
I ’ll chafe her temples. Yet there ’s nothing stirs. 231
Some hidden power tell her, Amintor calls,
And let her answer me!—Aspatia, speak!—
I have heard, if there be any life, but bow
The body thus, and it will show itself. 235
Oh, she is gone! I will not leave her yet.
Since out of justice we must challenge nothing,
I ’ll call it mercy, if you ’ll pity me,
You heavenly powers, and lend for some few years
The blessed soul to this fair seat again! 240
No comfort comes; the gods deny me too.
I ’ll bow the body once again.—Aspatia!—
The soul is fled for ever; and I wrong
Myself, so long to lose her company. 244
Must I talk now? Here ’s to be with thee, love! _Kills himself._

_Re-enter_ Servant.

_Serv._ This is a great grace to my lord, to have the new king come
to him. I must tell him he is ent’ring.—Oh, God!—Help, help!

_Enter_ LYSIPPUS, MELANTIUS, CALIANAX, CLEON, DIPHILUS, _and_ STRATO.

_Lys._ Where ’s Amintor?

_Stra._ Oh, there, there!

_Lys._ How strange is this!

_Cal._ What should we do here? 250

_Mel._ These deaths are such acquainted things with me,
That yet my heart dissolves not. May I stand
Stiff here for ever!—Eyes, call up your tears!
This is Amintor. Heart, he was my friend;
Melt! now it flows.—Amintor, give a word 255
To call me to thee.

_Amin._ Oh!

_Mel._ Melantius calls his friend Amintor. Oh,
Thy arms are kinder to me than thy tongue!
Speak, speak! 260

_Amin._ What?

_Mel._ That little word was worth all the sounds
That ever I shall hear again.

_Diph._ Oh, brother,
Here lies your sister slain! You lose yourself
In sorrow there.

_Mel._ Why, Diphilus, it is 265
A thing to laugh at, in respect of this.
Here was my sister, father, brother, son;
All that I had.—Speak once again; what youth
Lies slain there by thee?

_Amin._ ’T is Aspatia.
My last is said. Let me give up my soul 270
Into thy bosom. [_Dies._]

_Cal._ What ’s that? What ’s that? Aspatia!

_Mel._ I never did
Repent the greatness of my heart till now;
It will not burst at need. 274

_Cal._ My daughter dead here too! And you have all fine new tricks to
grieve; but I ne’er knew any but direct crying.

_Mel._ I am a prattler: but no more. [_Offers to stab himself._]

_Diph._ Hold, brother!

_Lys._ Stop him.

_Diph._ Fie, how unmanly was this offer in you! 280
Does this become our strain?[3412]

_Cal._ I know not what the matter is, but I am grown very kind,
and am friends with you all now. You have given me that among you
will kill me quickly; but I ’ll go home, and live as long as I can.
[_Exit._] 286

_Mel._ His spirit is but poor that can be kept
From death for want of weapons.
Is not my hands a weapon sharp enough
To stop my breath? or, if you tie down those,
I vow, Amintor, I will never eat, 291
Or drink, or sleep, or have to do with that
That may preserve life! This I swear to keep.

_Lys._ Look to him, though, and bear those bodies in.
May this a fair example be to me 295
To rule with temper; for on lustful kings
Unlookt-for sudden deaths from God are sent;
But curst is he that is their instrument. [_Exeunt._]

THE FAITHFUL SHEPHERDESS

BY JOHN FLETCHER

[DRAMATIS PERSONAE

PERIGOT.
THENOT.
DAPHNIS.
ALEXIS.
Sullen Shepherd.
Old Shepherd.
Priest of Pan.
God of the River.
Satyr.
Shepherds.

CLORIN.
AMORET.
AMARILLIS.
CLOE.
Shepherdesses.

SCENE.—_Thessaly_.]

TO THE READER

If you be not reasonably assur’d of your knowledge in this kind of poem, lay down the book, or read this, which I would wish had been the prologue. It is a pastoral tragi-comedy, which the people seeing when it was play’d, having ever had a singular gift in defining, concluded to be a play of country hired shepherds in gray cloaks, with curtail’d dogs in strings, sometimes laughing together, and sometimes killing one another; and, missing Whitsun-ales, cream, wassail, and morris-dances, began to be angry. In their error I would not have you fall, lest you incur their censure.[3413] Understand, therefore, a pastoral to be a representation of shepherds and shepherdesses with their actions and passions, which must be such as may agree with their natures, at least not exceeding former fictions and vulgar traditions; they are not to be adorn’d with any art, but such improper ones as nature is said to bestow, as singing and poetry; or such as experience may teach them, as the virtues of herbs and fountains, the ordinary course of the sun, moon, and stars, and such like. But you are ever to remember shepherds to be such as all the ancient poets, and modern, of understanding, have received them; that is, the owners of flocks, and not hirelings. A tragi-comedy is not so called in respect of mirth and killing, but in respect it wants deaths, which is enough to make it no tragedy, yet brings some near it, which is enough to make it no comedy, which must be a representation of familiar people, with such kind of trouble as no life be question’d;[3414] so that a god is as lawful in this as in a tragedy, and mean people as in a comedy. Thus much I hope will serve to justify my poem, and make you understand it; to teach you more for nothing, I do not know that I am in conscience bound.

JOHN FLETCHER.