Actus Primus.
Scena Prima.
A Funeral march: A Goffin born over the Stage. Oroandes and his followers in mourning. Ex.
Enter Cleon and Lewcippus.
Cre.
THis is the place, is't not Lewcippus?
Lew.
The ſame, nor will our under-officer delay us long.
Cre.
If this Gooſe prove not well featherd, our hopes
Are blown up: our only happineſs is, we have our
Limbs to help us, whilſt others muſt halt out their
Wants in a Hoſpital.
Lew.
Yes, and have their penſions paid them in rotten
Tobacco, and carv'd bonelace ſticks for bread.
Cre.
Thou art in the right, for the better rewards are
Reſerv'd for the deca
•
ed ſons oth' ſhop, or decaled
Placket ſquires, fellowes that dare not not look in a glaſ
•
For fear they they ſhould be frighted with the ruines
Of a noſe.
Lew.
Well, it was our wiſdome not to fancy this
Grinning honour, in the mean time I would ſell
My forg'd Commiſſion for a bankrouts bill of exchange.
Cre.
And I my buff coat for a freeſe jerkin, and all
My airy honours for the greaſie ſteam of a Cooks ſhop.
Lew.
Here he comes Enter a Serjeant and Buffonie.
Like the captive Knight of the golden Image;
Don dell P
•
oebo—welcome.
Ser.
Fie—Fie—A Souldier and tears!
Buf.
Doeſt lie—that doeſt, cham no Zodier,
Cha been better bred then zo.
Lew.
Twas thy own proffer friend.
Buf.
Yes, but when I wonder? when chad took a pot too much at market, and was a little tox
•
cated.
Cre.
Thou ſhalt have a ſober time of repentance:
S. death! what's here? Enter Buf mother followed by her husband and Gudgeon.
An Incubus
•
Lew.
Or elſe a ſury frighted out of her wits.
Cre.
She wants but a perriwig of Snakes to lead the dance of Hobgoblin
•
.
Mot.
Why Whore, be theſe Rogues here? I have been
Frighted out of my naked bed to follow them:
What doeſt thou amongſt theſe Varlets?
Come home—come home you whorſon lout.
Hus.
Nay wife, good wife, do not anger the worſhipful Captains.
Mot.
Pew, you dotard, doeſt think I will be frighted out of my Boy, ti
•
ſign thou haſt but ſmall ſhare in the begetting of him, that thou canſt ſo willingly part with him—
Cre.
Serjeant away with him, how vermin d'ee bark?
Lew.
To the guard with him, and lay him neck and heels; S. death—affronted!
Fa.
Captain—I beſeech your honorable worſhip.
Lew.
What ſaiſt old Cropſhin?
Cre.
Go hire thy Beldame a houſe in a Churchyard,
That when ſhe hath bequeathed her garments to a Pape
〈…〉
She may walk there to fright Sextons.
Fa.
Good Sir bear with her, for when ſhe is up ſhe is
A devill in Carrion, but I will disburſe here;
Here is v
•
rty old Angels, and a good vitty fellow
For a ſupply—
Mot.
How!—part with thy gold! why the Palſie
hath ſhook thy wit out at thy noſtrils: muſt Angels flie to fetch him back? Ile do'
•
without, or Ile ſcratch their eyes out.
Cre.
Peace good matron, and go water the furrowes of thy cheeks in
••
ars, 'twill look moſt religiouſly.
Lew.
Thou haſt been ſo long hung to roof, th
〈…〉
O
•
herwiſe thou wilt choak the wormes,
And in the next age be ſold for mummy.
Bu.
I took my Mother to be good for nothing.
Lew.
Old fellow we incline to pity thee, but the ſupply looks ſomething wretchedly, there muſt be ſome additionall advance.
Fa.
We will not ſtumble at that.
Cre.
Didſt ever handle armes friend? Serjeant, try him.
Gud.
Chwas nere thus hampered before, cham afeard tont come ofe.
Ser.
Come, handle your armes.
Gud.
Ich amt well skild in theſe guns, chave ſeen them at Mouſter ſet it a vier with the end of a cord, ſure theſe ſnipper ſnappers be a new faſhion, beant they?
Cre.
Nere fear, there's no hurt. The powd
•
r fi
•
ing he
〈◊〉
.
Enter Vanlore diſguiſed.
Van.
Save you Gentlemen;
Lives there one Coſmo Buffonie here?
Fa.
I am the man you ſpie for friend, vor want of a better.
Buf.
Look Gudgeon—what ſpark is that?
Van.
I have a letter from the Lord Arratus;
What it concerns, the contents will inform you.
Fat.
Pray maſter Captain read it, we beant book learn'd.
Mot.
No—whoſe fault was that you old knave, the Boy had doſſety enough and thou wouldſt ha put him toot.
Lew.
He here ſends you word how he deſires to have his Nephew your Son ſent forthwith to Syracuſe, for he intend
•
to adopt him his Heir.
Mot.
How! why then we are made for ever? Gudgeon thou goeſt too.
Van.
Creon and Lewcippus, the city cheats. Van. aſide.
Cre.
But hear, you friends, you firſt muſt diſingage from us.
Van.
How ſtands he Sir ingaged to you?
Lew.
How—fellow, go medle with your horſe comb ſawcie groom: Serjeant—away with him.
Fat.
Nay—worſhipful Captain—I will disburſe.
Van.
For what? keep up your money, who dares touch him?
Cre.
So bold, my livery creature? Il
•
make thee know Thou't not ith' ſtable, where thou command'ſt ore horſe boye
•
; Unhand him, or by heaven—
Van.
What will you do Sir? do' think I fear plunder'd Coats and big looks? Strikes up his heels and diſarmes him whilſt Creo
Lew.
Devils and fiends,
Shall I indure this!
Van.
Yes, and this too. Kicks ki
•
Van.
Come, your ranſome is paid.
Fa.
Bleſſings on your heart, come ſon Buff.
Exeunt, Om.
A vollie of ſhot within, the mourners enter, a trumpet ſounds, a herald reads Oroandes Com.
Om.
Heavens crown the actions with ſucceſſe!
Oro.
My gratitude divides
It ſelf amongſt you all, the only mean
Of recompence, untill ſome welcome beam
Of opportunity ſhall light my wiſhes
To a requital of your early loves.
But now the minutes languiſh in ſad haſt,
And from the ſad performance of theſe duties
To our deceaſed General we muſt
Remain griefs debtors, whilſt we ſati
•
fie
Importunate revenge. You diſmal badges
Of their deſpair, tell us we have an enemy
Whoſe reſolutions are as high and bloudy,
As their condition ſad, if they refuſe
This laſt act of an injured Princes mercy.
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A parle ſounded: Enter as on the wals Zannazarro and attendants.
Zan.
What means this haſty ſummons? is your anger
So ſwift in motion, that it not admits
Due rites unto the dead? The doleful hours
In which we mourn'd our Fathers funerals
Hath ſcarce left ſeals on the records of time.
Yet though the grief ſit heavy on our ſouls,
It's not of kin to fear, we dare to draw
Our ſwords ere we have wiped our eyes, and in
A peal of Canons, more harmonious then
The ſolemn Bell, thunder his funeral peal.
Oro.
Tis pitty a reſolve thus fortified
With valour, ſhould unravel all its glory
In an unlawful cauſe. This deſperation
Valours blind hieroglyphick, wherein nought
Appears but monſters only, ſerves to fright
Deluded fancie from ſupreme commands.
Oh do not then precipitate a family
Which may outlive approaching ruine, to
Stand the ſupporters of this State, when thoſe
That prop it now, are ſunk with weight of age.
Nobility, like heavens bright Planets, waits
Upon the Sun of Majeſty, whilſt none
But Comets drop from their uſurped ſphears.
Then rectifie your reaſon, and let's now
Conclude this war without a greater flux
Of bloud then is already ſpent, that ſo
Rebellion may not add more ſables to
What mercy yet may pierce.
Zan.
You might have ſpared this labour, though we loſt
The ſtrongeſt Cittadel of all our hopes
In our dear fathers death, thoſe high reſolves▪
He dying left as legacies to us
Are ſo much cheriſht, that ſhould I conſent
To ſtifle thoſe brave flames, his angry ghoſt
Rowz'd from the ſilence of a dormitory,
Would reaſſume its ſeat to chide my floath.
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I've only with me thoſe few wounded men
Which from the laſt loud ſtroak of war eſcaped
With life, not health, to ſerve me; yet though their armes
Grown weak with the late frequent loſſe of bloud,
Sell not our lives at honours higheſt rate,
We'l fall no humble ſacrifice to death.
Oro.
I'm ſorry Sir,
That my advice, proceeding from the love
I bear your worth, hath miſt its wiſht for ends.
—Farewel—All happineſſe
But that which waits on victory attend you.
Zan.
The like to thee brave ſoul, ſince part we muſt;
When next we meet, 'twill be in bloud and duſt.
Ex. from below: an Alarm within, at which Ex. haſtily from above.
Whilſt the battail continues, the ſtage hung with lights and pictures repreſents a Temple.
Enter Eurione, a book in her hand, ſhe having kneeled a while, Ent. a Lady haſtily.
Lady.
—Oh Madam!—whither will you flie?
The day is loſt, your noble brother taken,
Wars furious Godeſſe, fierce Enyo ſtands
Over your batter'd gates, and wheeling round
A dropping pine about her bloudy treſſes
•
ends with its diſmall light an entrance to
The miniſters of death, the unclaſpt power
Of the rude Souldier, like a deluge broak
O're a rich field, the laſt and fatall blow
Is giving, all our dying hopes. Th' battlements
Sweat oft in flames, whilſt loud confuſion fils
The inlightned air with outcries, and our ſhricks
Choak'd in the embryo of our prayers can find
No way to angry heaven: the infant dies
Whileſt in the po
•
ch of life, and natures webs
Decayed by age, are rent from out the the looms.
Imaculate Virgins to each touch betrayed
Lie in a tembling agony, their beauties
Like a rich Mine laviſht to vulgar hands,
The injured prize of every impious ſlave.
Eur.
Weep not my dear companion, thou that haſt ſha
•
'd
A like with me in every change of fortune,
If fate ordains this the Cataſtrophe
Of all thoſe tragick ſcenes, which theſe late wars
Made us unwilling, though ſad actors in,
To us our virgin innocence ſhall be
Protection ſafer then the united ſwords
Of earths moſt powerfull monarchs.
Outcries within.
Lad.
Oh they are entring, let's flie dear Madam.
Eur.
Whither? when ſlaughter runs through all
What place can give protection unto us?
Ex. Lad.
En. Oroandes wounded, a Surgeon.
Oro.
To thy charge, my hurt's but ſleight.
Sur.
Yet will deſerve your care Sir.
Ex. Sur.
Oro.
Hah! what place is this!
Hung round with ſtately pictures, ſtarr'd with lights!
With what an awfull majeſty it looks!
—ſure it inſhrines ſome deity—what's ſhe?
—with ſuch a face
Troy's tutelary angell look'd, when all
Her crown of turrets dropt their flaming heads.
Eur. kneels to the altar.
Eur.
If thoſe bleſt ſpirits, which freed from all the crimes
Caſt on them by mortality, and made
Fit for celeſtiall palaces, retain
A thought of us, as elſe our faith deceives us,
Oh let the white ſoul of ſome ſainted Virgin
Deſcend for my protection.
She ſpeaks. He draws nearer. She riſing from the Altar kneels to him.
Eu.
What ere thou art that in this dreadfull ſhape
Com'ſt to profane this hallowed place with bloud,
If in your breſt there dwell a humane thought
Telling you that a woman was your mother,
For her ſake pitty a diſtreſſed Virgin.
Not for my life I beg, but only that
My honor kept unblemiſht you would eaſe
Me of that tedious burthen.
Oroandes ſtands a while ſilent, lets fall his ſword.
Oro.
A chilling froſt unnerves my joints, ſure this is
Divinity or Magick that hath thus
Depos'd my reaſon to let Rebell paſſion
Triumph ith' injur'd throne—Riſe Lady
—there's a religious ice about my heart
That chains up all my fury—I ſhall rather
Slight the commands of an injured Prince,
Then violate ought which the dictates of
My ſoul proclaimes for ſacred.
Eur.
Oh lead me then to ſome polluted place
That's grown drunk with bloud, and there let mine
Increaſe the purple deluge rather then
Let life add yet more burdens to my ſoul.
—I ſhall not alwayes be protected by
This places ſanctity; or if I were,
Find few of ſo much vertue to be with
Religious reverence awed.
Oro.
Do not, dear ſoul,
Miſtruſt the gentle ſmiles of fate, my power
Secures you from all future violence
Which in the lowdeſt ſtorme of fury can
Fall from the ſteepeſt precipice of rage.
Zannazarro retreating, Souldier▪ laying at him.
Eur.
Oh my dear brother.
Soul.
Kill—kill the gaudy whore.
Oro.
Hold—I command you hold:
This is a place too ſacred to be made
A ſcene for ſuch a bloudy act, and would
Style what our cauſe cals juſtice ſacriledge,
Heaven being it ſelf profan'd in the abuſe
Of what its power for ſanctity devotes.
His wounds ſeem large enough already to
Let life flie out through all the gards of nature;
Or if they are not, to preſerve him will
Be but the glimring of a Taper ere
Blown out by the formalities of Law.
—Hear—ſearch his wounds, and let it be your charge
To uſe all diligence in their recovery.
Sound a retreat, and you, that bear command
See the rude Souldiers violence be drawn
Within the bounds of mercy. Victories ſtain'd
With too much bloud are bleſſings but profan'd.
Ex. Zanna. and Souldiers, ma. Oroan. and Eur.
Do not my dear too much afflict thy ſelf,
Each tear you ſhead drops from my heart in bloud.
—I'me conquered in this victory, and become
A captive to my priſoner. Come Lady, dare you truſt
Your ſelf to my protection, your gardian Angel
Rob'd in virginity, is not whiter then
Thoſe thoughts which clothe my ſoul when they reflect
On ſo much ſuffering vertue. Were my luſt
Hot as the womb of Aetna, yet there lies
A ſecret magick in this touch to cool
Thoſe moſt intemperate fires. The morning pearls
Dropt in the Lillies ſpotleſſe boſome, are
Leſſe chaſtly cool, ere the meridian Sun
Hath kiſt them into heat; yet ſince the ice
Of Anchorites by religious flames may be
Warm'd into holy Calentures, Oh give
My paſſions leave to move within the orb
Of your Coeleſtial beauty, whilſt no line
Tends
〈◊〉
the center of a thought unchaſt.
Eur.
Alas my Lord—this is
No time to play with Love (that child of peace)
When war and death fit by and hold the ſtakes.
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The impious mirth of the bold Atheiſt, that
Riots at funerals, and undaunted ſits
Whilſt heaven in plagues drops vengeance round about him,
Unveſts his ſoul of no more modeſty
Then ſuch wilde love would mine, whoſe growth muſt needs
Be fatall when ſown in a field of bloud.
—Yet I confeſſe—
If heaven did e're lend balme to cure a grief
So vaſt as mine, even whilſt the orifice
Was warm with bloud, this cordial favour would
Perform the cure: but I am loſt to all
The future hopes of dull mortality;
The habitation of my ſoul is grown
Too great a burthen, ſince ſo often wet
With miſeries ere to be born with eaſe.
Oro.
If all my ſervice to my Prince hath merited
Ought worth requital, he muſt ſhew it in
Mercy to you, or by a blacker doom
Shake my obedience off. But only grant
Me thus much ſatisfaction, that when time
Hath purg'd your griefs malignity, and for
Theſe thornes ſtrew'd the ſoft roſes of content
Within your Virgin boſome, that you would
With pity then on my afflictions look.
Eur.
I were ungrateful elſe: Know noble Sir,
I ſo much prize your virtues, that if ere
My frowning ſtars ſmile on my fate again,
Their powerful'ſt influence ſhall reflect on you
In ſo much thankful gratitude, you ſhall
Acknowledge it the eldeſt child of love.
Oro.
My joy growes equall with my wiſhes; Come Let's in my dear, and ſee thy wounded brother.
Ex. Oro. and Eu
Ent. Vanlore alone.
Van.
My plot hath thriv'd thus far, I have diſcover'd
A rival in my love to Theocrine—but ſuch a one
That nature in ſuch haſte did huddle up,
She gave him ſcarce the Characters of man.
How purblind is the world, that ſuch a monſter
In a few durty acres ſwadled, muſt
Be mounted in opinions empty ſcale,
Above the nobleſt virtues that adorn
•
Souls that make worth their center, and to that
Draw all the lines of action! Worn with age
And wounds to a neglected skeleton
The noble Souldier ſits, whilſt in his Cell
The Scholar ſtews his Catholique brains for food.
The Traveller return'd, and poor may go
A ſecond pilgrimage to Farmers doors, or end
His journey in a Hoſpital: few being
So generous to relieve where vertue doth
Neceſſitate to crave. Harſh poverty,
That moth which frets the ſacred robe of wit,
Thouſands of noble ſpirits blunts, that elſe
Had ſpun rich threads of fancy from their brain.
But they are ſouls too much ſublim'd to thrive
Amongſt thoſe crudities of men, that fill
The nauſeous ſtomach of the times with fleſh
Unſalted with the active ſouls of men.
But I'm no Satyr, rather now poſſeſt
With Loves more gentle ſpirit, which hath charm'd
Me into ſtrangs attempts; aſſiſt me Fate;
Few dayes will ruine or advance my ſtate. Ex.
Souldiers paſſe the Stage, Creon and Lew. dragging in Buff. and Gud. in new clothes.
Cre.
Nay, now you are hamper'd Rogues: diſobey authority!
Bu.
—Oh Gudgeon—they wool durt our new clothers.
Lew.
Lie cloſe you vermin. They bind them.
Gud.
I ha not known hop munday at this time oth' year.
Bu.
Stand upon thy guard page. They gag them.
Cre.
Gape Gudgeon—ſo, now do not talk
Your ſelves hoarſe, this heavy carriage
Shall not trouble you. Pick their pockets.
Lew.
Farewel—farewel—do not defile your lodging. Ex.
Enter ſome ſtragling Souldiers with Wenches.
Wen.
—A prize—a prize my lads;
How came you hither Sirrah—ha?
Bu.
Oh—Oh—Oh!
Wen.
What canſt not ſpeak, the rogues are gagg'd.
1. Sou.
Alas poor fellowes—help unbind them
Wen.
Hang them vagabond rogues, they are ſome rich Bores Ile warrant them, that have abuſed poor Souldiers:—here puny—change thy hat and thy ſword.
2. Sou.
Theſe are ſome reliques of their Grand-fathers
Blades that have been tryed in the firſt Punick war;
Here, ſhalt have mine in exchange—and liberty to boot.
Wen.
Nay, no haſt to be gone Sir, this Coat will ſell
To the next Countrey Landlord—yet agen,
Theſe Boots will ſerve an honeſter man.
1. Sou.
Nay, thou art unmerciful—
Wen.
Marry gip you milkſop fool, thou wert beſt
Go barefoot ſo thy conſcience wear ſocks; why man,
This is the farmers eldeſt whelp, coupled with
A carter, they know how to ſwaddle their legs
In ſtraw—do you not boobies—
Buf.
Yes—forſooth Miſtris.
Wen.
Nay, I ſhould teach you manners, had I the tutoring of you. Ex. Souldiers and Wenches.
Enter Zannazarro and Eurione.
Eur.
Do not, Brother, venture too boldly on this piercing aire.
Surg.
It's dangerous; Sir, and may recall your feaver.
Zan.
I thank your care, but owe ſo much unto
Your art, that my recovered ſpirits tell me
They are ſtrong enough to ſtrugle with diſeaſe,
Yet Ile not long tempt danger, only a while
Sit and behold you greedy flames convert
My Fathers palace to his funerall pile.
—Oh Eurione,
Ex. Surg.
To what ſad period drives our haſty fate!
We—we of all our houſe remain to be
The mockery of fortune. Poor girle—we muſt
Ere long be led to grace the triumphs of
A lawrel'd Conquerer, thorow the throng
Of the inſulting multitude, whoſe mirth
Our miſeries will be, from thence be hal'd
To ignominious death, and far remov'd
From the fam'd urnes of our dead anceſtors,
With theeves and murtherers mix our injured duſt.
In all their Annals, our wrong'd names ſhall be
Branded with ignominious Epithets.
Our gardian Angels vainly did protect us
Beyond the ruins of our family;
That ſhower of bloud dropt pretious balm, compar'd
With thoſe prodigious ills that fall in this.
—Why did I ſuffer all thoſe channels to
Be ſtopt that drain'd the crimſon ſea of life?
Were not my hands chain'd in my love to thee,
I would again rend ope each orifice
And ſet thoſe conduits going, which are now
Lockt in reſtrictive medicines.
Eur.
Do not Brother
Unthrone thy ſoul with this unmanly paſſion,
Prop with diſdain, that falling pyramid
Which in the loweſt ebb of fortune may
Sit high as Sceptred Kings, and by the ſtrength
Of paſſive fortitude repell the beams
Of our malignant ſtars, though darted down
With barbed vengeance on us. Thoſe calm ſouls
Feel not the war of fierce affliction, which
Preſerves heavens peace within their quiet breſts.
The bittereſt pils earth ſteeps in gall, are but
That healthfull phyſick, which the ſickly mind
Diſtaſts, but languiſhes without into
A ſwift conſumption of its former virtues.
I know thy breſt fill'd with too great a ſpirit
To let in ſuch ignoble gheſts as fear.
And ſhouldeſt thou nurſe a meaner thought of me,
'Twould ſtrike a bluſh upon the aſhes of
Our noble Mother, which could ne'r conceive
So mean a thing in great Z
•
ranzas bed.
Zan.
Now thou art ſiſter to the nobleſt thoughts
My ſoul extracts from weak humanity.
—▪This balm hath cur'd all mine internal wounds.
Eur.
Then prethee take a care not to offend thy other.
Zan.
My honoured Gardian—
Enter Oroan.
Oro.
Brave Zannazarro, I'm glad to ſee the bloud
Sit in ſuch healthful ſymptoms on thy cheeks,
My Princes mandates now inforcing me
Unto a ſwift removal—Fair Eurione
I have more offerings here to pay, but yes
Am too unſanctified.
Eur.
Thoſe vows, my Lord, my death will ſoon diſcharge.
Oro.
I am commanded by a power above me;
But ſhould my victory dip her lawrels in
Your blouds, my own ſhould waſh the
•
incture off,
And with your Cypreſs wreath their wither'd branches.
But fairer hopes in my thoughts buſie wars,
Support the ruins of my falling ſtars.
Actus Secundus.
Enter Creon and Lewcippus, one in the habit of a Souldier, the other of a Dancing maſter.
Cre.
S-death! thou look'ſt as if thou wert newly unfetter'd Lewcippus, ſince thou skip'ſt into this Dancing ſuit, but methinks thy legs are hardly fine enough for thy profeſſion. Canſt caper?—Let's ſee.
Lew.
As well as thou canſt toſſe a pike my
Valiant Hector—thou walk'ſt in ſuch ſtate
As if thou comeſt Crown'd from Olympus;
Or for a reward of thy va
•
or wert to be
Elected King of the Romans.
Cro.
No, a Knight of Malta would ſerve the turn▪
And that if our deſign proſper, I may bid fair for.
Lew.
We ſhall no more need to march in back-lanes to ſhun Catch-poles—hiſt—here comes the old Courtier and new Lord—
Enter Arratus
Ar.
Save you noble Gallants, and my very Good Friends.
Cre.
That he never ſaw before.
Ar.
Let the word of a Gentleman confirm you welcome.
Lew.
We had rather have the deeds.
Ar.
You ſhall be both reſpectively entertain'd.
In your ſeveral functions.
For thou my nimble Lad—
We'l dance Levalto's lighter then the air
When it cuts capers from the mountains tops.
My Nephew's hours of mirthful recreation
Shall by thy lighter genius be diſpo
•
'd.
But there is valour in the Boy that will
I doubt diſdain the ſport, I know his humor
If he be of the right bloud of the Buffonies,
He will be all for Turnaments, and fighting duels
—I will ſeem not to like it, but it was my
Own humor when I was young, I believe the
Countrey hath beſtowed education on him in that kind▪
According to his natural worth—
—Wherefore—my noble Corydon—
Cre.
I am no Shepherd Sir.
Ar.
I cry thee mercy, my brave Herculean ſoul,
I mean, what de'e call them▪—the followers of
The
•
ullen▪
Greek that would not fight for the loſſe of his wench.
Lew.
Achilles and his Myrmidons.
Ar.
Thou haſt hit it—thou haſt hit it
My ſingle ſol'd Raſcal, I mean the Myrmidons:
Pox on't! I forget theſe hard names; truth is,
I hold it beneath a man of quality to ſpend
His time among moth-eaten books, and leave the
More generous recreation of Dogs and Hawkes; ſome
Shreds of Poetry pickt up among the ſcoundrel
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Players are all that I make uſe of;
Yet I honour men of Art and Gallantry.
Cre.
Tis not my uſe to boaſt my own perfections,
I've ſeen ſome petty portions of the world,
Serv'd under Caeſar in the Britiſh wars,
Aſſiſted Craſſus in the Parthian Conqueſt,
Been with Porſenna at the
•
iege of Rome,
With Xerxes when his Army ſwallowed Greece,
And fought for Pompie in Pharſalla's field,
But my laſt piece of ſervice was to fight
For brave Adraſtus in the Theban war.
Ar.
Now by my ſoul a noble warrier;
But how met you with this man of art?
Cre.
In my travels—and I proteſt ſtangely;
As I was paſſing over the Lybian deſerts, I lighted upon the Grand Signiors Court, and being invited by him into the Seraglio to ſee his Concubines, there skipt into this Gentlemans acquaintance, he being one of thoſe rare Artiſts kept to edifie the doxies.
Ar.
Now by my honour a ſtrange encounter:
—What are theſe—
Ent. Buf. and Gud.
Ser.
Your Nephew Sir
A Servant.
And his attendant—
Ar.
How, are you ſon to Carlo Buffonie?
Bu.
I am the young Gentleman Sir, and as ſimple
As I ſtand here, chad better clothers
When's come from home.
Ar.
And how came you to loſe them Couzen?
Bu.
We met with ſome vermin Zodiars that plunder'd us▪
Ar.
Alas poor Couzen! and who furniſht you
With theſe new faſhion'd Boots?
Gu.
They are the workmanſhip of my own hands.
Bu.
My man Gudgeon is right, a man of knowledge
Nunckell
••
e warrant you.
Gu.
I will ſerve your worſhip in the ſame kind
Upon any occaſion, I have not been a ſervant
To your brother honeſt Gotfer Carlo ſo long for nothing.
Ar.
Thou ſayeſt well friend, I ſhall imploy thee.
My noble friends, I ſhall refer my kinſman to
Your care, call for what money you ſhall ſee
Occaſion of to furniſh him with all the gallantry
He is yet capable of; I could wiſh he had
Been better prepar'd for tutors ſo ingenious,
But hope to ſee the ſudden effects of your skill.
Lew.
Sir, we ſhall do our beſt indevours—
Come my ill clad gallants, we will change your
Ruſty Swords for glittering Rapiers,
Your Ruſſets into Scarlet, and feed
Your horſes with your boots.
Buf.
What becomes of our breeches then Gudgeon?
Gu.
We will ſend them home to old Maſter,
They will ſerve for a change.
Ex. Om.
Enter the King, an Ambaſſador as from Cyprus.
Kin.
How full of fatall changes are our lives!
What is't to be a Monarch, and yet live
Trembling at every blaſt of paſſion thus!
When all my thoughts in the fair hopes were calm'd
Of Heroina's ſafe arivall, then
Even then to have them ſmother'd in this cloud
Of cur'ſt▪ intelligence—Oh Glorianda!
Each ſtar is dropt out of my heaven of joy;
All our intended triumphs muſt convert
To funerall obſequies, our Lawrels be
Wreathed o're with Cypreſs, and the Tyrian robe
Strike all its ſplendor to an Ebon vail.
Glo.
Your grief is yet but weak ſuſpitions birtch,
And happily may prove abortive, Sir.
Kin.
Poor girle!
Thou fain wouldſt into comfort flatter us,
But the malignity of ſorrow can
Admit no cordials, when its meager fiſt
In all her functions graſps the ſtrugling ſoul.
Hear him unravel the black clew that led
Me into this dark labyrinth of grief,
And tell me then where I have ever leſt
Hopes to eſcape the Minotaure of paſtions.
Glo.
Shall I my Lord
Burthen you with the weight of this ſad ſtory.
Emb.
Your will commands each motion of my ſoul,
Though to a ſad obedience—Know then fair Princeſſe
When firſt our full ſpread ſailes were pregnant grown
With proſperous gales of wind, and all our hopes
Swel'd equall to their full ſtrecht wombs, and we
With joy beheld proud Aetnaes gloomy top
And ſleighting Neptune did begin to pray
To our domeſtick Lars, even then
A ſpightful ſtorm ſtrech't on the wings of all
The clamorous winds, proclaims a combat, and
Chuſes our latitude the fatall liſts.
The Suns fair mirrour curles her even brow,
Whil'ſt white arm'd waves catch at the clouds, and fall
Like liquid Mountains on our ſinking Ships,
Our rent ſails hang on tops of rocks, our cords
Crack like the fibers of a dying heart,
The frighted Sailer more diſtracted then
The elements into confuſion ſtartles,
The Maſter vainly cals for help, till by
An angry wave waſht off, he loſes all
His hopes ith' Seas unfathom'd womb. Whil'ſt in
Theſe full mouth'd oathes natures intemperate ſo
•
Swore our deſtruction, a calm gales ſoft breath
Fans off diſpair, we now behold none but
Pacifick Seas, but in this new born light
No beam of comfort dwelt we by it ſeeing
Nought but the ſcatter'd ruins of our Fleet
Which dreſt the floud in funerall pomp, but wha
〈…〉
Stroke moſt amaze, that Veſſel where we had
Treaſur'd our hopes, the Princeſſe ſhip was loſt.
Glo.
A ſad relation.
Kin.
Oh but too true, too true my Glorianda,
Dev
•
uring Seas have couſen'd our imbraces.
—But ſhall I loſe her thus? go gather all
Thoſe Ships that owe obedience to this Ile
And let their ſquadrons cloud the Sea, untill
You find her out, or elſe, by all that's good,
Thy life, though an unworthy ſacrifice,
Shall fall an offering to her fathers loſſe.
Emb.
I go—though in deſpair to ſpeed.
Ex Emb.
Enter Oroandes, Zannazarro, Eurione. Oroandes kneeling, preſents the priſoners.
Or
•
.
Thus only may your enemies encounter
Thoſe beams of ſacred majeſty that ſhine
Through you from the Sicilian diadem.
Kin.
Riſe noble Souldier, high in our love as wonder
—Thus joy encounters grief, but is to weak
For ſuch a foe—are theſe thy victorious trophies?
There's ſomething in their looks that argues worth,
Were it not clouded in Rebellions mask.
But that's a ſin whoſe black infection ſtrikes
Damps to the heart of Monarchie, and cannot
Be nurſt within a States ejecting womb
Without diſtempering every vitall part.
It was thy mercy when the obſtructed ſword
Like lightning fled, and left their lives untoucht,
And now our juſtice muſt perfome that task.
Glo.
I more then doubt poor Zannazarros ſafety,
Some of loves old ingredients yet remain.
Kin.
—Why ſo much woman, Glorianda?
Thou but miſpend'ſt thy pity, fooliſh girl,
Upon an object, which if not remov'd
Would ſoon eclipſe the brightneſſe of our ſtars.
—Go call the Prieſts of Mars and Pallas hither.
Oro.
At what wilde fury reaches this diſcourſe?
If at his anger hell lights torches to
Lead them into deſtruction, there muſt fall
Some ſhowers of bloud to quench them.
Enter Prieſts.
Kin.
Here take the priſoners to your charge, and let
Thoſe ceremonies be perform'd, by which
The tainted bloud of ſacrifices are
Made incenſe for the gods; ſee them prepar'd
Ere the next morning gilds the earth, delay
Shall pluck no feathers from the wings of vengeance.
—S-death! what does't curd your blouds? go bear them off,
That brow that dares contract it ſelf into
A frown had better meet a thunderbold.
Glo.
O they are loſt, for ever loſt!
Ex. Zan. Eurio.
Oro.
Is't grief, or reverence that unnerves me thus?
—Oh my ſoul—thou art too weak—too faintly weak
To move beneath the Chaos of theſe woes!
Kin.
Now Oroandes I have time to imbrace thee,
And hug this cabinet of virtue, which
Contains thoſe jewels by whoſe ſoverain price
Our ſafety was redeem'd. But I have not
In all thy abſence let thy goodneſſe drop
Out of my thoughts, witneſſe this Lady, in
Whoſe virgin breſt I've ſtrove to plant thy worth,
Untill her ſympathizing virtue might
Nurſt to maturity, which to improve, Ile leave
You to Loves fair Elizium, Privacie.
Oro.
I am—your vaſſal Sir, but cannot pay
Oblations due to ſo immenſe a love.
Ex. King.
Glo.
Whither ſtarts my degenerate ſpirits!—I was born
Of Parentage high as Sicilies King;
And though their death made him my Gardian, yet
May be allowed the freedom of my choice.
The converſation of our youth had nurſt
A Cupid in each eye, ere Zannazarro
For
•
't by a fathers high aſpiring pride
Forſook's obedience to the Crown, and then
A mutual love mixt our ſouls currents in
One ſilver ſtream of joy, and ſhall I now
Buy it with pride, 'cauſe his dejected ſtate
Unveſted of its gaudy honour ſtands?
—No—let his titles ſacrifices fall
Unto his guilt, ſo I may him in joy.
Oro.
—She weeps—ſure there is more in this
Then yet my thoughts can fathome:
If it be love to Zannazarro, perhaps we may
Prevail by our united prayers—Pardon Lady
My unbecoming rudeneſſe, I have ſorrows
That like my evill Genius on my ſoul,
Sit cloath'd in ſables that obſcure the light
Of beauties rayes▪
Glo.
You need no mask to walk ith▪ Moonlight Sir,
But were there flames to quench you, I ſhould ſhed▪
Tears large enough to quench the riſing fire.
Oro.
We are not like to thrive in love that plant▪
The ſprightly fruit in ſuch a watery ſoyl.
Glo.
Yet our affections are perhaps of kin,
Did we diſcover their originall.
—Let's both diſvellop truth my Lord, I bluſh not
To let you know theſe tears are only ſhed
To mollifie thoſe ſtubborn deities
That ſway brave Zannazarroes fate—And think
Yours ſympathize in a relation near
As is 'twixt him and fair Eurione.
Oro.
Oraculous truth!—Dear Lady, let me kiſſe
This hand the index to ſo brave a heart,
And on it ſeal allegiance to your heart.
Our ſouls could nere have met a nearer way▪
But in the rode of wedlock, this hath claſpt
All the black lines of our affections in.
One volume, though by natures hand tranſcrib'd
In different chara
〈…〉
but oh! it lies not
In our united pra
〈…〉
for to releaſe
The objects of our love from thoſe ſtrict bands
Our Princes rage
•
etters their ſafety in.
Glo.
All violence would wear the ugly brand▪
Of Sacriledge, elſe I would try the power
Of all my Kingdom to ſupport their fates.
R
•
egium holds many active ſpirits that would
Bear his proud anger with as high a flame,
Should I but ſtir what now conceals their hate.
Oro.
—I have an Army too
Not yet disbanded, which would gladly kindle▪
Their diſcontents at the leaſt beam of mine,
The airy weight of a few would ſet
The fatall engin going; but my bloud
Shrinkes to its center at rebellions name,
And as if tainted with the thought from thence
Scatters an ague through my limbs. If all
Our prayers, when mounted on the wings of love,
Cannot prevail, let's mix our bloud with theirs,
And Martyrs die to our adored ſaints.
Glo.
I ſhall do ſomething too, ſomething that may
Preſerve my name in ſanguin characters.
But firſt let's viſit him, perhaps thoſe engins
That batter heaven, may ſhake his marble breſt.
Oro.
My prayers ſhall wait on yours; and if denied,
A lover die, not live a regicide.
Ex. om.
Enter a Taylor with a new ſuit, a Hatter, Shoomaker, Spurrier, with other Tradeſmen.
1. Tra.
Come neighbours, ſhal's crack each one's our Kan before the Gentleman comes.
2. Tra.
Our Kans, hang the muddle horſedrench,
Let's drink each of us our groat ſquare off
Brisk ſack, this forain liquor but
Adulterates our blouds.
3. Tra.
As many of your wives does your beds.
1. Tra.
How this coxcombly boy p
〈…〉
Becauſe he hath nere a one of his ow
〈…〉
We ſhall ſhortly have him buy the fee
〈…〉
Of a piece of land, that hath been broke
Up to his hand in the Countrey.
3. Tra.
Did your eaſie entrance inform you,
Your own was ſuch?
2. Tra.
Go to Sirrah, you are a ſawcie boy
To prate thus to antient men and thy betters.
I tell thee, both my neighbor and
My ſelf are town-born children,
And have born offices,
And before thy head was hot to ſome of us.
3. Tra.
But not before your own was horn'd Sir.
1. Tra.
How you impudent raſcall! a little more would make me lay my yard about your ears.
3. Tra.
But take heed you do not break him; for I have heard though you are double yarded, your wife wants her full meaſure.
1. Tra.
I proteſt I will complain to the officer and make him prove it.
2. Tra.
Hiſt—you prating coxcomb—here comes the Gentleman.
Enter Lewcippus.
1. Tra.
God ſave your good worſhip.
2. Tra.
We are glad to ſee your worſhip well.
Lew.
Come—what have you brought here?—let's ſee your bils, thou ſhould'ſt be a man of might by the largeneſſe of thy weapon, but without help of thy ſhears I will pare off half—there, nay take it without grudging, and ſet thy hand to the receipt.
1. Tra.
Nay, I beſeech your good worſhip to conſider a poor Tradeſman, our taxations are heavy.
Lew.
Tuſh! you were born to be made ſlaves off, come, thy hand.
1. Tra.
To the whole bill Sir?
Lew.
S-death! you croſſe leg'd c
•
r, d'ee ſnarl? thou wert better eat thy preſſing iron then reply another word—come you with the ta
••
aty face, thy blew apron
•
its not methodically friend—I proteſt thy conſcience is made of ſarcenet, pure and tender as thy wives new blancht cheeks—haſt thou ſet thy hand to the bill?—how! my money will not hold out—but I will ſend anon—that ſatisfies.
2. Tra.
Moſt aboundantly, an't pleaſe your worſhip▪
Lew.
My jolly C
•
iſpin, thou muſt grant the ſame curteſie.
3.
Oh Lord
•
ir, your worſhip may command.
Lew.
Thou deſerveſt to be heir apparent to Sir Hue, and to have thy apron a perpetuall winding ſheet to his bones; come along with me, and tranſport your commodities, 'tis your Indiaes.
Ex. om.
Enter Arratus, Carlo, Creon.
Arr.
Signiour, you are welcome.
Car.
I thank your Lordſhip—intruth ſo ſhall your Nephew be to my houſe—and to my daughter too—or ſhe
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and I ſhall ſquare, but I would fain ſee the ſprightly gallant,—as
•
ame as I am, I have walk'd thus far on purpoſe.
Arr.
He will not long be abſent Sir, but is that wild head Vanlore dead?
Car.
This Gentleman can beſt inform you.
Cre.
It was my fortune to cloſe his dying eyes.
Car.
Captain, not a word of our bargain.
Car. aſide.
Cre.
Swounds! d'ee think my neck itches for a halter?
Poor Vanlore—he was a Gentleman whoſe memory
My love to worth ingages me to honour.
Was this not well diſſembled old boy?
Aſide.
Car.
Rarely—thou mayſt be ſecretary to the Devil.
Arr.
My Nephew—Sir—
Enter Buff. Lew. Gudgeon.
Car.
God ſave you noble Sir—you'r happily encounter'd.
Buf.
Would the old fellow beg ſomething Tutor?
We will give him Gudgeons old clothers, they are better then his.
Lew.
Not too loud—this muſt be your father—law.
Arr.
Nephew, take notice of this Gentleman, you may hereafter call him father.
Gud.
He ſhould ha better clothers firſt and I were as my Maſter—he had as good a father as this at home.
Buf.
Peace fool and let your Maſter talk—how lik'ſt this Cloak—and ſword—and boot old boy—ha!
Lew.
You are too rude—obſerve his gravity.
Buf.
Why, no matter as long as I talk loud enough;
Doeſt keep any dogs old boy? Ile courſe my fathers
Crop-
•
ar'd bitch with thee for vorty groat
•
.
Lew.
Fie—fie, you muſt lay no wagers under pounds.
Buf.
Why then pounds let it be—or we have a▪ forehorſe of our own breed ſhall draw with ere a horſe in Syracuſe.
Lew.
Fie, this is diſcourſe too vulgar.
Buff.
Why, did you not tell me 'twas Gentleman like
To talk of nothing but Dogs and Horſes?
Gud.
Yes, and Whores too Maſter.
Buf.
Thanks good memory—Ile begin.
Lew.
—Not for a world before your uncle
Aſide.
That is diſcourſe for Taverns—betwixt the drinking ſcenes,
Whilſt men take breath to throw away eſtates;
There you may vie obſcenity, and lard
Your dry diſcourſe with oathes—but muſt be civill here.
Car.
His Tutor's giving him good counſell.
Arr.
He is a Gentleman I'm woundrous happy in, for wholeſome precepts.
Car.
Will you not give him leave to viſit my poor houſe?
My Lord—his company will be pretious,
Arr.
Sir I intended he ſhould wait on you home.
Captain it is our pleaſure, you attend him.
The Citie's full of ſwaggerers, and he ſomething raſh.
—Nephew—we'l leave you to attend this Gentleman;
Bring me wor'd how thou lik'ſt fair Theocrine.
Ex.
Car.
Come Signior, will you walk?
Buf.
Nay pray Sir go before.
Ex. om.
Enter Oroandes alone.
Oro.
All yet is ſilent, dark and ſecret, as if
The powers of night did favour my intent.
Pardon you Gods that have a reſidence
Within this ſacred roof, if I profane,
You are the authors of it, if you own
Affections cloth'd in robes immaculate
As martyr'd Saints imbrace their ſufferings in,
Such ſure are mine, witneſſe that bloud—which when
Warm'd with the pride of victory did grow
Too cold to hatch the embryoes of a ſin,
Though there were flam
〈…〉
beauty large enough
To thaw an Anchorite. Pity me then, juſt powers,
And ſpare your guiltleſſe ſacrifice. This hour,
This diſmall ſilent hour, is near the time
In which the Prieſt, with hidden myſteries
To purge his offering from all the ſtaynes
Of ſecret thoughts, into this Temple comes—I do not know
What earthquakes cold divinity may breed
Within my breſt, but ſure he muſt be more
Then man that b
〈…〉
her hence, unleſſe he wears
My life upon his ſword—But I am vain,
Nought but the Gods arm'd with deſtructive thunder
Are gardians of this place, which if this act
Be black and ſinfull, will, when purpl'd in
The guilt on'
〈◊〉
hurl me into hell▪ if not
Protect my bold indevors—They come
He withdraws.
Enter Eurione led by the Prieſt of Minerva, in his hand a Cenſer burning, at which having lighted the tapors he unvailes her.
Pri.
Hail noble Virgin—more to be ador'd
Then ſhe whom our fond ſuperſtition makes
Our Common-wealths Protectreſſe.
Eur.
What language do I hear?—are you her Prieſt,
And dare prophane your own Miverna thus?
Pri.
I would not have your judgment Lady look
On us with much deluded eyes, to think
We pay a private adoration to
This gilded marble, only deified
By ſome unperfect ſouls unworthy fear
Whoſe reaſon darkned, flew to fancy for
Relief, and from thoſe vain idea's fram'd
Thoſe tutelary powers, which wiſer men
Pretend devotion
•
o, only to awe
Irregular humanity into
A dull obedience to their power, which were
Mad to adore thoſe deities they make.
Eur.
Oh horrid blaſphemy!
Are theſe the hallowed myſteries you uſe
To ſanctifie your offerings with, or is't
Your Cruelty now I am neer the ſteep
And dangerous precipice of death to ſtagger
A feeble womans faith, that ſo your mortall
May paſſe to an eternal puniſhment?
Had I no drop of bloud but what had been
Fi
〈…〉
d with a feaver of hot luſts, the grave
〈…〉
Cold damps unfetter'd by your Princes doom
Had long ere this extinguiſht them. My ſoul
The warm imbraces of her fleſh is now▪
Even now forſaking, this frail body
〈…〉
Like a loſt feather fall from off the wing
Of vanity, ere many minutes lie
A lump of loth'd corruption, foul enough
Without being with ſo black a ſin deform'd.
Pr.
Deluded innocence! think you that fate ſhould rob
Me of the glorious treaſure of your beauty,
Soon as I had injoyed it? What though you are
With your heroick Brother deſtin'd to
Confirm a ſimple Princes zeal; I know
Wayes to evade it that ſhall make him tremble
To touch this ſacred beauty, with a reverence
Holy as that he payes unto the Gods,
Whilſt you (though now) ordain'd to die a Martyr
Shall live a Saint among the ſacred number
That in this temple ſpend their happy hours
In ſilent cloſe delights, ſuch as do make
The amorous ſoul ſpring in the womb of fancy:
Here every hour that links the chain of life
We fill with pleaſures, yet nere feel their ſurfets,
Degenerate to that pale diſeaſe of fear
The ignorant world cals Conſcience.
Eur.
How ſtrangely lies the
•
evill here diſguiz'd
Within the maſque of age and holineſſe?
Pr.
Of age!—look here Eurione,
Throws off his ornaments.
Is this a face to be deſpis'd?—be not amaz'd,
The holy reverence which the people bear
Unto my office, keeps me ſo much ſtranger
Unto their knowledge, that I ſtill may be
Secure within the ſhade of a diſguize,
Pleaſing the ſprightly Veſ
•
als, which my youth
Knows better how to do then feeble age.
Had not that excellence of beauty which
Appears in you bright as men fancy Angels,
I had not ſtoop't to this diſcovery, but
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With the ſeverity of my office led
You to inevitable death, which now
My love redeems yo
〈…〉
om, if with a fair
Conſent you meet the vigour of my paſſion.
Eu.
Witneſſe you Gods that ſee my ſoul diſvellop
•
d
From every thought of earth, how much more willingly
I would ſubmit my ſelf to the imbraces
Of crawling wormes, the cold inhabitants
Of ſilent dormitories, then to have
My dying hopes warm'd into life again
By thoſe wilde fires of thy prodigious luſts.
No impious villain—when ghaſtly horror makes
A giddy circle round thy death-bed—and
Thy ſins like Furies all appear to fright
Thy trembling ſoul from her laſt ſtage of life,
When thou ſhall curſe thy birthday, and implore
Eternall darkneſſe to obſcure thee from
Heavens all diſcerning eye, this ſin ſhall not
Make up a link o'
•
h everlaſting chain.
Pr.
Muſt I be then denied, fond girl!—thou haſt
Precipitated all the hopes of life
By this abortive virtue, unleſſe thou ca
•
ſt
Command a guard of thoſe imaginary
And helpleſſe dei
•
ies to circle thee
In forms more dreadful then the night, or death
Preſents them to our ſears, no power ſhall ſave thee,
Thy prayers are ſown on unrelenting rocks
Mixt with a wilderneſſe of air—through which
Thou'lt never find them in their wiſht effects.
Tuſh! this weak reſiſtance is in vain
The Virgin Goddeſſe ſtirs not.
She flies to the A
•
tar.
Eu.
Oh hear—hear me you ſacred powers,
And from your thrones look on an injured maid.
Pr.
Poor fool—they'r deaf to thunder.
Eu.
Some pitying God protect me.
Oroandes diſcovers himſelf and drawing his ſword, run
•
at him.
Oro.
—Hold—hold,
There's thy reward—miſt thee!
Sure there's no god protects thee.
—Impious Devil!—
Canſt thou ere hope to ſhun me?
Eu.
Oh gods!—why was I wak'd to life again
To ſee the ruine of my honour?
—My Oroandes!—
Or hath ſome pitying deity
Poſſeſt thy ſhape to reſcue me?
Oro.
Eurione—my hallowed Eurione,
I'm too profane to touch thee yet, untill
Cleans'd in this villains ſcalding bloud, which muſt
Be ſhed an offering to thy injured virtue.
Offers at him, he fals on his knees.
Eu.
Oh hold my Oroandes,
o not defile thy hands in humane bloud
Before ſuch ſacred witneſſes as theſe,
Let his worſe puniſhment be to ſurvive
An act ſo wicked, till the dictates of
His conſcience doth anticipate his hell.
Pr.
My guilt amazes me, nor do I know.
Whether with greater confidence to beg.
Pardon from heaven, or you; ſo black, ſo foul
Are my attempts againſt both: but if confeſſion
May be the harbenger of penitence
Although deform'd with ſin, I ſhall diſ
•
obe
The blackeſt ſecrets of my ſoul, theſe flames
Of luſt, whoſe dreadful blazes light me to
Future deſtruction, may perhaps conduct
You to a throne of ſafety. Hoping to
Obtain my black deſires, when fear of death
Should be my moving advocate, I had
Lay'd counterplots for to prevent the fall
Of the intended ſtroak. If you make uſe
Of theſe contaminated robes, which I
Have more abus'd, you'l find their operation
In wonders ſeeming ominous, as thoſe
Which drive men to devotions laſt retreat.
Not that I wiſh for life, but fear to die
Ith' youthful vigour of my ſins, before
Repentance hath inſeebl'd them, I beg
Life from your mercy, which ſhall never be
Laviſht in pleaſures more, remov'd from all
The noiſe and buſineſſe of the world, Ile live
Attended only with my ſorrow, where
My private ſorrow may no object find
But my own gangren'd ſins to work upon.
Oro.
The gods are pityful, and thou mayſt live to merit life eternally.
Canſt thou (my dear Eurione) forget thy wrong?
Eu.
I elſe ſhould fear to goe where's fate conducting me.
Oro.
Farewell—mayſt thou acquaint thy ſoul with heaven.
Takes up the Prieſtsrobes.
Come my fair ſacrifice, theſe robes can be
Never profan'd, worn to deliver thee.
Ex. om.
The end of the Second Act.
Actus Tertius.
Officers belonging to the Temple ſet forth an Altar, others prepare a Throne, loud muſick.
Enter the King crowned, Glorianda and attendants, the King aſcends the Throne, the reſt place themſelves.
Kin.
THou look'ſt too ſadly Glorianda,
Though funerals do attend the day we're not
To wear the ſables of our ſouls, whilſt we
With ſacrifices feaſt the deities.
Glo.
My ſadneſſe is not grief Sir, only fear
How my frall temper may indure a ſight
So full of horror—
Kin.
We will ſupport thee, here now only wants
Sick Oroandes, I hope it is not love that troubles him.
Glo.
He is too wiſe Sir, inconſiderate women
Are greateſt ſufferers in that tyranny.
Kin.
Yet let it not afflict thee girl,
He will do well again—
Loud muſick, the Prieſt of Mars enters
〈◊〉
one ſide of the Altar leading Zannazarro, his armes bound in a crimſon ſcarfe, crowned with bayes, after him two boyes with Cenſers and ſacrificing inſtruments.
Softer muſick, at which enter Oroandes dreſt like the Prieſt of Pallas, leading in Eurione, her robe crimſon, her armes bound with a white ſcarfe, Virgins in white bearing Cenſers.
Kin.
My rage begins to melt, I could even wiſh
They might ſurvive the rigour of their doom.
Glo.
Muſt I ſee this and live?
No Zannazarro—here is my convoy to thee.
Draws a poniard.
The Prieſts lead the ſacrifices above the Altar, where unbinding their armes, they give them liberty of mutual imbraces.
Zan.
So—now we have ended, my Eurione,
All our imployments on the earth—this is
The laſt of all our mortall enterviews.
The wheels of time worn on the road of age,
Will loſe their motion, ere we ſhall again
Meet in the robes of fleſh, which muſt ere that
Change to a thouſand ſhapes its varied duſt:
Yet ſtill (—dear girl) our ſouls unſeparable
Shall walk together to eternity.
Eur.
Farewel dear Brother—if thy ſoul do take
Its flight ere mine—ſtay for me in the clouds.
They are bound and led to the Altar, where whilſt they kneel a Song from within, the Chorus by the attendants to the Prieſts, who light the fire for the ſacrifice.
The SONG.
See, each winde leaves Civill Wars,
The gods approve your Sacrifice,
And to behold it, all the Stars
look through the curtains of the skies.
Peace reigns through every element, Chorus.
Whilſt this fair pair to heaven are ſent.
Sparta's dear Iphigenia died
A ſpotted ſacrifice to this
Bright Nymph compared, whoſe Virgin pride
Sayes nature nought hath done amiſſe.
And yet this flower ſo choicely made Cho.
By deaths untimely ſtroke muſt fade.
Romes honour'd Decii might have fought
Ʋnder this youths command, yet been
More fam'd then when their valour brought
The bloud of foes, t' imbalm it in.
Yet this brave ſoul muſt fall before Cho.
With ages froſt he's tinſel'd o're,
What's falling now ſhall riſe more pure,
The fatall stroke but ſinks the Mine,
Whoſe oare this flaming calenture
Shall only for heavens Mint refine.
Go then and live where time ſhall be Cho.
Confounded in eternitie.
Prepare, prepare the fatall ſtroke
Which their fair threeds muſt ſeparate:
Goodneſſe may pity, not revoke
The inevitable doom of fate.
What their crimes were, let men forget, Cho.
No letters but heavens alphabet,
When mortals are from virtue fell,
Their vices ſhould in cenſure ſpell.
The Song ended, the Prieſts prepare to ſtrike. A clap of thunder, groans, and ſhrieks throughout the Temple, the Prieſts robes dropt over with bloud, the Images of the gods reverſt.
Kin.
What horrid prodigies are theſe?
The gods are ſure grown angry with our prayers.
Pri.
I have been long attendant on thoſe powers
Within this place ador'd, yet never ſaw
The gods thus moved before. We have profan'd
Something their knowledge cals Angelical.
Kin.
Be gone theſe gaudy trappings of my pride,
This lowly duſt looks lovelier then a throne.
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Lies here no charme Throwes off his crown and robe.
To releaſe our fears?
The Prieſt unties their ſcarfes, at which ſoft muſick from above, both the images turning again.
Pri.
Here—here lies the guilt of our impiety,
The gods are pleas'd again, and thoſe whom we
Intended Martyrs muſt our Saints ſurvive.
Oroandes throwes off his robes and diſcovers himſelf.
Kin.
Hah—Oroandes—what damn'd impoſture's this!
Glo.
To what extent of miracle growes this!
Oro.
The arguments of mercy from the gods
Imbolden me to ſeek the like from you.
My violent paſſions forc't my love into
Strange labyrinths of attempts. But what I firſt
Trembling with guilt did undertake, theſe miracles
Have prov'd legitimate. Arm'd with a high
But inconſiderate heat of fury, when
Eurione into the inmoſt room
Was of the temple brought, reſolv'd to bear
Her from the rigour of her doom, I had
Thither in private firſt conveigh'd my ſelf
Attending on the hour in which the Prieſt
With his ſad charge ſhould enter, which arriv'd
I that come there to offer ſacriledge
Unto that holy function, ſaw my ſelf
Ordain'd the inſtrument of heaven to free
Her from the hands of a foul raviſher,
The hallowed lights being only kindl'd to
Make way to th' injur'd object of his luſt,
His prayers to blaſphemies, his ſacred unction
To prophanations more obſcene then thoſe
That revell in the ſinks of ſin were turn'd.
The badges of a reverend age—(theſe robes
The ſacred livery of heaven) thrown off
Appears a ſprightly gallant, fitter for
A champion to the ſtewes, then ſervant of
The injur'd gods, whoſe violence had not
My preſence reſcu'd her, had couzen'd heaven
Of your intended ſacrifice to pleaſe
His own exuberate luſt.
Kin.
This dreadful ſtory
Strikes trembling earthquakes through all my veins.
To what vaſt monſter will our ſins unchain'd
From fear of vengeance grow!
Oro.
That this is true, witneſſe thoſe powers which own'd
That cauſe which I (though raſhly) undertook.
Kin.
Pardon me you diviner powers—I have
Been too neglective of the charge you gave me,
But will redeem it in my future zeal.
That villains bloud forc't out by torments ſhall
Begin the purple deluge—For you fair ſouls
I muſt forget thoſe crimes heaven hath been pleas'd
Thus freely to forgive—riſe higher in
Our favour then was that exalted ſtory
From whence your father fell.
Oro.
Mountains of grief fall from my burthen'd ſoul
In their delivery: but your ſoveraign mercy
Muſt either with one cordiall more relieve
My ſickly hopes, or I am loſt for ever
Kin.
Thy actions ſpeak thy wiſhes—here Oroandes
Take from my hand this gift of heaven—ſhe's thine
By their decree. Gives him Eurione.
Glorianda kneels.
Glo.
Ere your extended mercy ſhall contract
Its liberall hand, let me be happy in
The full fruition of my joyes—My love
To Zannazarro, though long ſmother'd in
His fates obſcurity, muſt now break out
In cataracts of prayers, untill you make
Me ſo much ſharer of the bleſſings of
This happy day to meet my hopes in him:
Kin.
Thy thoughts arrive clothed in the robes of joy.
Here Zannazarro—Imbrace in her thy happineſſe.
Zan.
With ſuch a trembling pleaſure bodies ſhall
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Encounter with their ſeparated ſouls.
Kin.
Now all your ſeas are calm'd—only my bark
Still d
•
gs her wings beneath a tempeſts weight;
Yet will I ſtrugle with my griefs to ſhow
How much we to this dayes delivery owe.
Ex. om.
Enter Theocrine and her maid.
The.
Good wench no more, thou'ſt ti
•
'd me with this ſtory.
Mai.
But had you ſeen it Miſtris you could never have been weary, it was the ſump
•
uouſeſt ſight that ever eyes beheld, the Kings good grace (God bleſſe him) is a brave man—by my troth my thought it did me good to ſee him, but we were all overjoy'd when the ſacrifices were releaſt.
The.
Prithy no more—the ſacrifice releaſt,
Happy are they—but I muſt die a ſacrifice to love,
No helpful Angel will vouchſafe to look
From his bleſt throne on me; my Vanlores ghoſt
Is now triumphing 'mongſt the Saints, and ſees
Or elſe regards not mine afflections here.
A cruell Father firſt divorc'd what now
A harſher fate eternally divides.
But know my dear, where ere thy wandring ſpirit
Roves unappeas'd with ſacred ſunerall rites;
Thy Theocrine lives but to pay her tears
Oblations to thy memory, and will
Ne'r put off ſorrows ſable robe until
The mourning wreath ſhall knit my winding ſheet.
—Theſe were the bands wherewith we once confirm'd
Puls off a bracelet.
The obligations of our love—but now
Are ſeals of my affliction—ſent me back
As meſſengers of his untimely fate.
Enter Carlo, and Vanlore diſguized like a Mountibanck.
Car.
Look yonder ſhe is, in one of her fits I proteſt:
I doubt ſhe is craz'd, good Doctor behold her.
Van.
Love—love—I ſee it by the beating of her pulſe.
Ca.
Why how now daughter, never out of theſe quandaries?
Thou wilt ſpoil a good face with this puling.
Van.
Your tres humble ſervitor Madam.
Car.
Nay do not look ſo ſleightly on him,
He hath promiſt me to cure thee wench,
He is a man of art—come forth of a ſtrange countrey,
And knows more then a thouſand of our dull Ilanders.
Van.
Foh—they are buffones—horſleaches,
Know nothing more den the Farrier, how to give
A great drench—pig enough to break de horſe
Belly—begar meer piſſe-prophets,
De very ſpawn of de white wich, fellowes
Dat uſe no medicine but what day pick out
Ofde hedge—not ſo virtuous as Madams
Old book of receipts—
The.
Sir did you bring this fellow here to rail?
Car.
Tis but his humor, Theocrine, give him way.
Van.
Me ſcorn de ſtinking drugiſt, have no uſe of his horſe, loads of traſh—Mine be de pure extract—de ſpirit of de Mineral, here be de Chimical pill, here de quinteſſence of balſom—dat which cures all ſolution of continuity though in de ventricles of de heart—but here be de grand Elixar, the ſoveraign medicine—that cured the great Mogul when he had been ſeven year ſick of a Lethargy.
Car.
Doctor—Ile leave her to your care.
Van.
Me warrant dat ſhall cure her—come Madam
Begar you but diſſemble—dis is no inveterate
Diſeaſe—me ſee no ſymptomes of it in your face,
Dere is no giddy rowling of the eye—no ſwelling
Of de veins about de forehead—nor does the
Pulſe inform me but the ſyſtole and diaſtole
Keep due time—dis love to Vanlore be but a
Pretence, to free your ſelf from him, you hate
The more deſerving Buffonie.
The.
If grief for him be my diſeaſe—thy honeſty
Is as recoverable, now practiſe hath
Made the malignity inveterate,
Keep thy ſtrange termes of injur'd art to fright
The Ague or a toothake off—My griefs
Are grown beyond imaginary cures.
Van.
Piſhaw—ſuppoſe you did once love him,
He be dead, and dere be better men dat ſeek your love,
I have encounterd with dat Vanlore in my
Peregrination, and found him to be a kickſhaw
—A man of no worth.
The.
Thou art a villain to abuſe the dead,
Had his deſerts crauled on the earth like thine,
Tis baſeneſſe to depreſſe them now he is
Above or elſe beneath all mortall hate;
But were he living, thy invectives might
Sully the Sun as ſoon as ſpot his fame.
Go then, and let the wondring multitude
Admire thee on a ſtage, come here no more
To ſcare away my private thoughts, the worſt
Of which more pleaſes then thy company.
Van.
You will be of de oder mind, when I have freed You of all de grief for Vanlore.
The.
It muſt be by ſome ſpeedy means to caſt
This fleſh into the grave that mould of death,
There to be model'd for eternity,
Within whoſe everlaſting ſprings we ſhall
Meet with thoſe joyes whoſe blaſted embryo's were.
Here made Abortive. If thou haſt a poyſon
Subtill as that the eyes of Baſilisks
Shoots forth deſtruction in, with more delight
••
e tak't then ere a fainting Patient did
Receive thy promiſt Cordials.
Van.
What ſtronger confirmation needs then this? aſide.
She's conſtanter then times viciſſitudes.
—Yet Ile make good my word, Throwes off his diſguize.
—Receive my Theocrine
The promiſt cordiall, and approve my art.
The.
My Vanlore!—may I believe my eyes intelligence,
Or is this joy deluded fancies birth?
Van.
Reall as our affections, when we firſt
Aſſimilated ſouls in ſacred vowes.
The.
My joy hath almoſt rarified my ſpirits
Into a ſubſtance volatile as that▪
Which ſouls begin their ſeparation in.
Support me, friend, with the relation of
Thy fatall ſtory, or this ſurfeit will
Be near as dangerous as the dearth of hope.
Van.
For fear thy father ſhould prevent our ſtory,
I muſt ſhrink under this dark vail again.
Puts on his diſguize.
Tis a relation, Theocrine, will raiſe
Thy virtue in a bluſh—thy Father, Love—
—Thy cruell Father.
The.
I alwayes doubted 'twas his wretched ſpirit
That rais'd this dangerous ſtorm.
Van.
It was—and by a means ſo full of wickedneſſe
I tremble to relate it—whilſt I lay
Ith' Leaguer at Ardenna, he corrupts
Creon and Lewcippus, two mercenary ſlaves,
To do what he too long expected had
From the wars doubfull fortune, but thoſe villains
By his gifts thaw'd from their poverty,
Let forth in ſtreams of luxurie their ſins
Wilde Catarracts, untill the channell grew
So big it bore the Boyes of reaſon down,
And lets this ſecret in their midnight cups
Flow undeſcreetly out, which by a friend
Of mine inform'd of, from their poiſon I
Received my antidote, and knowing where
They had deſign'd the place to ſteal my life,
Thither prepar'd for my defence repair.
The place was cloth'd in privacy enough
To warrant them a ſafe retreat, if in
Their black deſign ſucceſſefull, hoping to
Surpriſe me unawares; they here being hid
Attempt my life, but finding me prepared,
Had with a guilty baſeneſſe fled if not
Inforc'
•
by me, firſt to unravell all
This knot of villany, confeſſing how
Corrupted by thy fathers gold, they had
Sworn my deſtruction, which repenting, now
To merit mercy, they ingage as far
Towards my aſſiſtance, vowing to obey
What ever I commanded; and to ſhew
Their faiths example, this dear relique of
Shewes a Bracelet.
Our firſt affections give me, which receiv'd
With thoſe ſtrict bonds of baſe ſoul'd cowards (threats)
Chaining up their obedienee to my will.
I then inſtruct them with what meſſage they
Should cheat thy Fathers willing faith, thy token
Although the choiceſt Jewell of my ſoul
Truſting them with to ſtrengthen impudence
At their return, which done, I left the Army.
The.
But wert unkinde,
Thus long to let me languiſh in deſpair.
Van.
That only caſt a cloud on the deſign,
Thoſe villains laviſhing the time untill
Detected vice made them forſake the Army,
Whilſt I to live unknown repair'd unto
A troop of wilde Bandets, 'mongſt whom I have
(Though honour'd with their Captains title) liv'd
Till weary of their ſins, yet keep them ſtill
Friends to protect me when with thee I make
A ſafe retreat unto thoſe deſert haunts.
The.
Teach me the way my Vanlore, though it lie
Through dangers greater then the midnight fears
Of ſickly brains ſully their fancies with,
Through all Ile follow thee.
Van.
Then my good angels cannot ſtay behind,
Thou muſt, my dear, pretend to love this fool,
Nay more, conſent to marry him.
The.
How!—do not run dangerous hazards.
Van.
We muſt or elſe lie ſtill at anchor here.
When thy conſent ripens thy fathers joy▪
Ours will grow neer maturity—this diſguize
Will furniſh me with means enough to know
The night-walks of his thoughts—by which we may
Proportion all our actions—he comes
This kiſſe, and bid thy Vanlore then farewell.
Enter Carlo.
Car.
A skilfull man I proteſt, what ſtore of implements he hath? Gally pots, Glaſſes, and Ventoſſes, I hope he hath done the wench good—ſave you Doctor; how thrives your indevour?—
Van.
Prave—prave—better then we expected;
But me ſcorn to pipe forth mine own praiſes.
Madam ſpeak for your ſelf, and informe de
•
old
Mounſieur your vader—
Car.
—How is it Theocrine?—ha!—
The.
Well Sir—as the harmonious muſick of the ſpirits
Supplyed with air ſprung from well temper'd bloud,
Compoſes all the organs of the ſoul.
Only in this calm ſea of health I find
Some pleaſing ſpirits hover 'bout my heart,
Things that till now I was not ſenſible
Of, ſince I firſt did love forgotten Vanlore.
Van.
Now de magicall potion begins to work.
The.
Forgive my diſobedience Sir, She kneels.
My hate unto that worthy Gentleman
Your wiſdom had provided for me, ſhall
Pay for redemption all the powers of love,
So you'l not puniſh it in the denying
That bleſſing which till now I cal'd a curſe.
Shall your conſent tell me I'm pardon'd Sir?
Car.
With as much pleaſure as I got thee girl.
Now thou haſt reconcil'd my thoughts, my gold
Is not more cordiall then this bleſſed change,
Now I ſhall live to ſee thee happy in
Poſſeſſion of a vaſt eſtate.
The.
The man is unto me more pleaſing Sir.
Car.
So I would have him as long as he hath an
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Eſtate to boot, I do not like when love grows
Daring, and encounter poverty, becauſe they
Imagine the threedbare ſuit adorn'd with a few
Needleſſe virtues.
Van.
Vat dinke you now Signiour?
Car.
That thou'rt a man of art incomparable,
As Aeſeulapius ſell—'twas a cure eaſily done,
And therefore I hope will not ſtand me in much.
—My good word ſhall be ready.
Van.
Me be not mercenary, de generous Artiſt
Scornes all reward but what comes willingly.
Car.
Saiſt thou ſo? then thou art for my turn,
I like when men will not exact—Come, we will
Dine together, and then go viſit the Lord Arratus
Sprightly kinſman—Come my girl.
Enter Creon, Lewcippus, Buffonie, Gudgeon, Wenches, Servants, a Bawd.
Cre.
Come grannum, are they freſh and wholeſome, ſuch as may be tilted at and not indanger the head of the Lance?
Baw.
Away you wag, d'ee think I would furniſh Cuſtomers with ware that ſhould not be for their turn? I proteſt they came to town but yeſterday. Since I dealt in the fleſhly occupation I have not had better.
Buf.
Thou ſhall be payed well for them Punk,
There's gold—and here's more left yet.
Baw.
This is a Boy of mettle.
1. We.
Let us alone to melt it mother, Come ſir, you are ſad.
If any ſervice—of mine might pleaſe you, I will
Strive to ſhew activity in your content, let me lead
You to the private liſts of Venus, where
We'l make the bloud dance meaſures through our veins
Till warm'd with the delitious ſport it glews
Our wreath'd imbraces in extracted balm.
2. Wen
We'l kiſſe you into extaſies, and make
Our breaſts the pillowes to repoſe your head.
1 Wen
We'l pleaſe each ſenſe with ſome delight. Your eyes
With unvail'd beauties whiter then the Alps,
Your touch with skins like poliſht Ivory ſmooth,
Your taſt ſhall ſurfet on the balm of lips,
For Indian gums, the fruitfull vally that
Lies underneath fair Venus mount ſhall ſend
Far more delightfull perfumes, and when tyred
With theſe delitious ſports, we will ſing
Your wearyed ſpirits into reſt.
2. Wen.
And whilſt you ſleep our nimble fancies ſhall
Study ſome undiſcovered paſſage through
The corall banked ſtraights of love, with which
We'l entertain your naked innocence.
1. Wen.
Our Banquets ſhall be all on Cordials, ſauc't
With ſtrong provocatives, whoſe ſprightly power
Each minute ſhall create new appetites.
Lew.
The Wenches have raviſht him.
Buf.
Who would not ſpend Eſtates upon theſe Ladies?
But have you ne'r an ordinary bit for my man Gudgeon?
I would not have him ſit idle.
Baw.
Rather then he ſhall want imployment, I will
Venture my ſelf to give him a heat;
But he hath more mind to a Countrey dance
I ſee he is putting his feet in meaſure.
Gud.
I wou't we had a Fidler here, I could foot it, I ſaith.
Baw.
Shal's have a dance Gentlemen, I have an old Stallion within that can play.
Buf.
Call him good Grannum, and let's to't, can you dance Ladies?
Wen.
We will do any thing that tends to your delight Sir.
Ent. Fidler.
Baw.
Come twiſt thy guts up old ſqueaker.
Fid.
Couple your ſelves, I am in tune.
Lew.
Woot dance Creon?
Cre.
Not I, the ſport's too light, let Gudgeon ſupply my place.
Baw.
Come Gudgeon—thou and I—Play the ſhaking of the ſheets.
They dance. Knock within.
Within—Ho—houſe—ho—what, all aſleep!
Baw.
Hark the Collonel, and the reſt of the Blades
Are come—ſhall I call them hither?
Cre.
No, we will wait on them, come Pupil,
We will acquaint you with the City Gallants.
Ex. om.
Enter three Bandeets, three Sailers meeting them.
1. Sai.
Save you Gallants—where's our Captain?
Here is a prize for him worth a bording.
1. Ban.
—A lovely beauty—S-death! how came you by her?
2. Sai.
Where we found ſtore of other treaſure, nay our
Trade at Sea will prove better then yours at Land.
But is not our Captain to be ſpoke withall?
2. Ban.
Not now, he is imployed, but where we know not.
3. Ban.
We expect his ſpeedy return, but till then I am his Viceroy in our Common-wealth.
3. Sai.
Then take charge of this Lady, but let her be
Preſerv'd untoucht for him—and hark you Sir,
Be carefull of it—if her complaints inform
Him otherwiſe, you'l dearly ſuffer for it.
Whiſpers.
Hero.
What dreadful precipice of miſery are
My ſullen ſates deſcending—Can I hope
My honors ſafety, whilſt my body is
Commanded by theſe that no Law controuls?
1. Ban.
Come Lady, you muſt now be a wilde inhabitant
Of theſe dark woods with us, yet do not weep,
Though our profeſſion ſeem to promiſe none,
Here you may finde civility.
Her.
Pray heaven I may, my journey hither hath.
Been full of ſtrange misfortunes—I have found
Crown'd expectations for captivity
Unhappily exchang'd.
Sai.
Valiant Bandeets farewell—look to your charge.
3. Ban.
With as much care as we would ſtrive to keep
Jewels, whoſe loſſe would ruine all our hopes.
Ex. Sai.,
3. Ban.
Come noble Lady—if your birth hath cloth'd
Honour in higher attributes, forgive
Our rudeneſſe, ſince the child of ignorance.
Her.
Alas! what ere my birth hath been, I'm now,
A ſlave to you, and muſt forget thoſe vain
Airs of ambitious honour, ſo I may
But find civility enough to be
Protectreſs of my Virgin honor, all
My others will moſt willingly be ſpar'd,
Yet they are ſuch that were I known I might
Perhaps repair theſe broken fortunes which
Thus makes you run the hazard of the Law.
1. Ban.
We wiſh this curtain of your fate may be
Swiftly withdrawn, till then, let all our vowes
Prevent your fears, the rudeneſſe of our lives
May be your trouble, but ſhall never grow
To a diſeaſe more dangerous.
Her.
I live in hopes to gain ability
Of an extent ſo large as recompence.
Ex. om.
Enter three Blades, Buff. and Gndgeon drunk, Drawers with Wine.
1. Bla.
Stand up brother—come, our brains are not warm enough yet—fill out—here noble brother.
Buf.
Thanks brother Collonel—I will pledge thee were it a Tub full—and pay for't too—here's gold enough.
2. Bla.
Here—a health to my Lord Arratus.
Buf.
Come to my Nunckel—there lies my hat.
3. Bla.
Here Gudgeon, thou muſt have it too.
Gud.
I ha more already then I can carry upright.
1. Bla.
Round with another health—here
To my brother Buffonies Lady.
Buff.
That's the two yong Gentlewomen of the houſe—
Theſe be Gallants Gudgeon—ſons of fame.
Gud.
She blew them from her breech.
2. Blad.
Houſe—more Wine. here, where be theſe Vermin?
Buf.
What will they not hear?—let's break down the doors Brother,
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Or fire the houſe—nay I am valiant too.
Knocks, a Wench looks out a the window.
Wen.
Why, what d'ee mean there Gentlemen to beat my mothers doors down?
Buf.
Some Wine and Wenches you Cockatrice.
Wen.
You have too much already Sir, to ſleep—
1. Bla.
Why you harpy, doeſt think we'l be confin'd to the Lobby.
Wen.
You will have the greater benefit of the air Sir.
2. Bla.
Swounds we'l not be bafl'd thus.
Buf.
No that we will not brother, I feel the ſpirit of Wine in my brains, and will not be bafl'd.
1. Bla.
We'l ſcale your windows you Whores.
Buf.
Brother—let's—brother Collonel—Ile in firſt.
2. Bla.
We will not put you on a matter of ſuch danger Sir.
Buff.
Danger—I ſcorn the word—I fear it not brother, Ile do it—I and my valiant ſword-bearer.
Gud.
Ile not creep in at windows, not I, amongſt Whores to have my eyes ſcratch't out—not I.
Buff.
How—not venter? why thou wilt not turn coward and fear ſcratching?—ſhall not be ſaid but we Countrey boys are as valiant as the beſt of them.
3. Bla.
But the window is narrow, and will ſpoil your new ſuit.
Buff.
Come, come—prepare—help me and Ile put them off.
2. Bla.
Valiant brother, thou ſhall have the honour to enter firſt.
Buff.
I and my ſquire will enter this inchanted Caſtle,
And relieve the impriſon'd Ladies.
Gudgeon let's untruſſe and prepare for the combate.
1. Bla.
Ile help my brother whilſt you prepare Gudgeon.
—Now for the boots.
Buff.
My foot is at thy ſervice noble brother,
Nay off with my breeches too—I have drawers on.
2. Bla.
Haſt thou drawers too Gudgeon?
Gud.
I, but I had as leave a been hang'd as ha come to this.
Buf.
Come now, your helping hands, Ile ſcale the wals,
Attendant be at hand with my weapon.
1. Bla.
We'l ſecond thee immediately venturous brother.
Come Gudgeon follow thy Maſter.
Put them in at the window.
Outeries within.
Buf.
Oh—oh—help us brother Collonel,
Draw up thy forces.
1. Bla.
The conflict is begun—we'l leave them to the mercy of the Wenches, and now the guls are uncas't make uſe of their feathers—here's a prize lads.
2. Blad.
The Golden fleece was but ſtinking ſheepskin to't.
3. Blad.
Come let's be gone, the Bloud-hounds will purſue.
Ex. om.
Enter Creon and Lewcippus.
Cre.
Pox on the ſlaves they're gone.
Lew.
This Devill Luſt hath undone us.
Cre.
Tis no now time to diſpute it;
Let's rather bethink our ſelves of ſome courſe
To preſerve our credit with his unkle.
Lew.
There's it, and I am deceived, if I have not found it out; thou knoweſt the opinion he hath of his valour: I will home, and poſſeſſe him that he privately withdrew as we fear to fight, and that thou were in queſt of him whilſt I come to inform his doting Lordſhip.
Cre.
Bleſſed be thy pregnant brain,
Be gone and thrive, I will return upon my cue. Ex. om.
Enter Buffonie and Gudgeon in their ſhirts—both bloudy, wenches following.
Baw.
Out of my doors you Rogues.
Buf.
Good reverend Matron—we heartily repent—Gudgeon our clothes—what's become of our brother Collonel, and the reſt of the Blades?
1. Wen.
Faith even ſheathed in your ſcabards by this time, you ignorant Rogues to come to abuſe a civill houſe and be couzen'd of your clothes.
Gud.
Oh we ſhall die with cold.
Buf.
Good Gentlewomen give us ſome ſlender garments, my Nunckel ſhall give ſatisfaction—Oh Gudgeon my Hat and all my fine Ribbons, and my Sword—all's gone.
Gud.
I woot we had our old ones here.
1 Wen.
But faith tis pity to turn them off thus,
The puppies will catch the pip—have you no old breeches?
Baw.
By my fay nothing that belongs to man, but an old armour that a beggerly Souldier pawn'd—and that Ile fetch.
2. Wen.
And Ile lend the page an old petticoat and waſtcoat.
Bring forth an Armour and clothes.
Buf.
We ſhall be bound to pray for you.
1. Wen.
Go arme the Knight whiſt I prepare the Lady of the lake.
Put the Armor on Buffonie, the petticoat and waſtcoat on Gud.
Gud.
I doubt we ſhall not paſſe the ſtreet for the Scoundrell boyes.
Buf.
Put it on Gudgeon, and be thankfull.
Any thing to hide thy nakedneſſe, good Gudgeon.
Gud.
I have played maid Marrian ere now.
1. Wen.
So now you are provided, my honour'd Don.
Buf.
We kindly thank your good Ladyſhips, we ſhall be bound to pray for you—tis not ſo cold as 'twas.
2. Wen.
Come, march my valiant Hector.
1. Wen.
Nay faith here is each of them an old pair of ſlippers too.
Buf.
Good-be-wy my honourable young Ladies.
Ex. Buf. and Gud.
Baw.
So now let's in and ſhare. Ex. om.
Enter Arratus, Carlo, Theocrine, and Lewcippus.
Arr.
I wonder at this—when ſaw you him laſt?
Lew.
Some three hours ſince, when leaving him at a Play, whilſt we went to diſpatch ſome buſineſſe in the City, at our
return we miſt him—I perceiv'd ſome difference betwixt him and a blade oth' town, and doubt the ſword hath diſputed it.
Car.
Tis moſt like that's it, he is reſolute.
The.
Muſt I then be ſo unhappy when I firſt began to cheriſh love to loſe its wiſht for object?
Arr.
Grieve not Lady—I hope all is well.
The.
I doubt his valour will betray him to
Some deſperate quarrell, in whoſe fury all
My hopes of him may periſh.
Car.
I will go ſend my ſervants abroad,
We cannot be too carefull of his ſafety.
Arr.
Trouble not your ſelf Sir—I have took order.
Enter Buff. and Gud.
Buf.
—Ah—ah—ready to die with cold.
Arr.
What have we here? a prologue to the mask of Witches?
Car.
Some intended ſport without queſtion,
Which now will come out of ſeaſon.
Buf.
Ha! forgot me Nunckel—I am your poor kinſman.
Arr.
Thou art my ſhame, and mak'ſt me grieve that ever
I entertain'd a thought of raiſing thee
So much beyond the pitch of thy deſerts.
The.
Let not your anger Sir
Add waights to his unhappineſſe.
Arr.
Sure ſhe is bewitcht—you are a moving advocate,
But ſo it render him not loſt within
The place he did in your affections hold,
I ſhall be eaſily wrought to pardon him.
The.
That were a love too much depending on
The accidents of fortune to be thought
Worthy of him—I on this Armor look
As ſpoiles got from ſome conquer'd enemy,
His garments loſt by ſtealth, not from him took
By any force of man.
Buf.
She is in the right Nunckel, my brother Collonel
ſtole them, whilſt my ſquire and I ſcal'd the wals.
The.
I thought 'twas ſome ſuch deſperate attempt;
Let me diſarme thee love, and ſee thy wounds.
Car.
Rare Artiſts! this Philter works wonders.
Arr.
He hath met with ſome cheat for Knights,
And the nails of whores for ſteel.
The.
Let me wipe off the bloud, and thy poor ſervants too.
Gud.
I will not trouble you Miſtris, I uſe to heal ſuch ſleight wounds as this by waſhing them in mine own water.
Buf.
I had rather go in out of the cold.
Arr.
Thou makeſt me bluſh unmanner'd fool:
Why doeſt not with more thankfulneſſe imbrace
The tender of her love?—Lewcippus have them
In, and ſee them once more cloth'd.
I can impute as much to youths irregularity
As others can: but if he leave not this,
My hate may ruine what my love hath built.
The.
I hope your wiſdom Sir will look on this
But as an errour, which correcting age
May eaſily reform.
Car.
—This is an ill ſign—I doubt he will ſpend all.
Arr.
I ſhall do much for your ſake Lady.
—Let's in and ſee him, though 'twere amiſs,
To make him mend, it is to laugh at this.
Ex. om.
Actus Quartus.
Scena Secunda.
Enter the King in a night gown, two Pages with lights, one bearing uhe picture of Heroina, the other of Eurione, ſet down the light and pictures, and ex. Pages.
Kin.
BEe gone, and let me gaze my ſelf to marble here.
Oh I have loſt the quiet of my ſoul,
All peacefull harmony. My eyes have ſuckt
A ſubtill poiſon, and diſperſt it through
My ſouls oreflowing rivolet. Oh Heroina
I have defil'd thoſe noble thoughts in which
I ſhould have cloth'd the memory of this
—Fain would I ſmoother this proud flame—
—But vainly ſtrive—
It hath lay'd hold on reaſons battlements.
—This is Heroina's— Looks on her picture.
The ſame whoſe fair Idea untill now,
I only entertain'd within my thoughts—
And muſt I let this glorious angell flie
From the polluted temple?—I muſt
—Here lies a ſpell that charmes me Oopens Eurione's picture.
—What did I ſay—
Pardon thou fair commandreſſe of my ſoul,
I did blaſpheme—this ſacred beauty is
Fit for loves higheſt Altar, where my heart
If ſacrific'd dies in Enthean fire,
Pure as the Elements, when quinteſſene't
Into perfection ſhall communicate
To bodies glorified—
—Theſe bloudleſſe ſhadows hold no ſymmetry
In their proportion, this interiour orb
Sits like a ſmaller Planet near the Sun.
—I ſhould not thus ſharpen a Scorpions ſting,
If not already Baſilisk'd to death.
—But I like Atlas vainly ſtruggle to
O'
•
ethrow a world of fancy—I'm reſolv'd.
Knocks, enter Page, takes him a Letter.
Convey this ſpeedily to Oroandes.
The cure is dangerous, but where the ſharp diſeaſe
Breaths nought but deſperation, 'tis in vain
Through reaſons Limbeck to extract our thoughts.
Mufi'd in clouds of ſin and ſhame I go
To grope for light, or ſink in endleſſe wo. Ex. King.
Enter Vanlore leading in Theocrine.
The.
Be not too confident my Vanlore,
They're deſperate gameſters
That throw their whole ſtock at one trembling caſt.
If in this mornings progreſſe we are maskt,
Time ne'r will lend a beam to light us forth
Of ſorrows ſubtill labyrinth—ſhould thy plot
Crampt with prevention halt behind thy hopes,
And I be marryed to this wretch—we may
Go then aſide, and ſacrifice our tears,
Our fruitleſſe tears unto thoſe Gods for whom
We have prepared our holy vowes—but never
Muſt meet in warm imbraces.
Van.
Do not doubt
The powerfull influence of our ſtars—ſhould what
I have prepar'd to combate their deſign,
Be by ſome ſullen ſpie betrayed,—I have
Fitted a friend ordain'd for action in
This Comick Scene, whoſe ſword hath gliſter'd 'mongſt
A throng of braver enemies then they;
By whoſe aſſiſtance, if they durſt oppoſe,
He cut the cordage of that hand although
Before the Altar, that layes hold on thee.
The.
I would not have that ſilver feather'd dove,
On whoſe pure wings we firſt rais'd our affection,
Her yet immaculate pinnions dip in bloud.
Van.
Yet muſt we not
Tamely let Vultures prey upon our hearts.
I hear thy Father, Ceugh within.
And muſt betake my ſelf to canting.
Enter Carlo, ſervant leading him.
Car.
Oh—oh—oh!
Help me good Doctor:
Oh this tormenting Gout, my joints are rack'd.
Van.
Marke you Mounſieur—you muſt be—paeſant till my me-di-cine can operate.
Car.
Oh I can hold no longer, ſet me down ſoftly Geafery.
Van.
And lay up de leg Sh-free—
Here on de Cuſhoone—ſo—no, eaſie now.
Car.
Not much—not much—how now girl?
Haſt thou ſent to invite thy gheſts?
The.
I have Sir, but doubt your want of health will much obſtruct their mirth.
Car.
We'l have the fewer girl, 'twill ſave charges.
I do not like theſe coſtly feaſts,
They but undo young couples—Oh my joints!
Doctor, we ſhall have your company.
Van.
Me be very ſorry, me cannot be your ſervant,
But de number of de patients dat call upon me.
The.
We ſhall excuſe you Sir, but could your time permit, you ſhould be rang'd with the beſt of our friends.
Van.
Me humbly thank you Madam.
The.
We will be free, though my husband be not Courtly.
Car.
Not Courtly ſaiſt, marry the better wench, it puts me in hope I ſhall not live to ſee thee want, the ſwaggering Gallant goes out like a ſnuff, when the conſtant houſekeeper gives the beſt light at laſt—Oh—oh—oh! my pain is intolerable—
I would not have him hearken to this paltry poetry, nor
viſit
••
arlotry playhouſes. Let his imployments be to read the Statutes.—oh—'twill do him good—the knavery of a Lawyer, or the cunning of a Bankrout ſhall never undo him.
Van.
And toſe as I have heard be diſeaſes Epidemical—but be de law de ſpeciall antidote.
Car.
'Tis our laſt refuge, but in theſe parts not thoroughly proſecuted, I have now at the leaſt fifty ſuits depending, and many of them I know to be poor raſcals and not able to pay—oh now—now—And yet I can have no further recompence then throwing them in Gaole—Oh my knee!—where they ſhall lie till they rot, if they pay not.
Enter a ſervant.
Ser.
Some Tradeſmen Mris. Theocrine
Deſire to ſpeak with you. Ex. The.
Car.
Do not buy thy garments too gaudy,
Gold is better in thy purſe then on thy back.
Take example by thy aged father, Theocrine.
Oh now it tugs again—now—now!
Van.
Be of good comfort, it is but de acerbity of de humor—I will to my poiſon mixers, and prepare de richeſt ingredients.
Car.
I think an ointment of good Foot oyl were good,
It is cheap and eaſily got, I would not
Be at too much charges—lead me in
Geofry—oh!—farewell good Doctor—oh!
This double charges will undo me.
Van.
Thou ne'er wilt be ſo happy, wretched Miſer,
To have that file poliſh thy cankerd ſoul.
The generous ſpirits puniſhment would be
To thee the effects of mercy. Is Theocrine,
My virtuous Theocrine, deſcended from
So vile a Father? Sure her Mother was
Some Angell clothed in fleſh, that could not be
Corrupted with th' affinity of vice;
Elſe had the rudeneſſe of his nature planted
Some thornes within that Paradiſe, which now
The amorous Myrtles tender branches dreſſe
In ſuch ſoft lovely robes, her paſſions are
Sharpn'd with anger, but like thornes plac't
To guard thoſe roſes Virgin modeſty.
Nor can pale fear in her more refuge ſeek,
Then to improve the Lillies on her cheek.
Enter Theocrine.
The.
Come follow me Vanlore,
I have prepar'd thy habit—let's haſten. Ex. om.
Enter Buff. Godg. Creon, Lewcip.
Cre.
Fie, fie!
Not ready yet, and to be a Bridegroom ere break of day?
Buf.
I cannot tie my bond-ſtrings.
Lew.
Aſſiſt him Gudgeon—S-death! what doeſt gape for?
Gud.
Cham't thorowly awak'd yet, chad rather
Be at whome again, a keeping of Sheep,
There chad time to fetch out my full ſleep,
Here cham tottered up all hours of the night.
Cre.
Why, thou doeſt not grumble Raſcall, give me—come, p
•
x on thy gouty fingers, they are fitter to tie ſacks—
Gud.
'Tis no matter for your frumps:
Chon't be thus abuſed long, chill get me home, and be a paultry Servingman no longer, to lick trenchers and live upon ſcraps.
Lew.
Why, how now ſlave, wert thou ever thus fine before?
Gud.
Yes in a pranked ſuit, 'tis much credit ſure, e'n as much as the ſlit in our hawked Bullocks ear, or a mark in the ſide of a Sheep.
Buff.
Come Tutor, now come help me truſſe my points, Chwas never thus troubled with harneſſing my ſelf before, and this be the fruit of marriage, I will marry no more yet in haſt. If my Nunckel had been a man as other men be, he might ha marryed her his ſelf, and ha ſaved me this labour, but no matter Gudgeon, we'l have about at trull-me-dems when the Parſon hath done.
Enter Arratus.
Arr.
I to my grief have heard all this.
Unmaner'd ſlave! are theſe the fruits of all
My ill beſtowed expenſes? I ſee it lies not
I'th power of art to poliſh thee, I have
Ranſack'd the City for the choieſt wits,
They rackt invention to improve thy knowledge,
And yet thou ſtill remainſt a ſenſleſſe block.
—Pox on your ugly looks—you ſleepiſh clown,
Pull up thy ſpirits—or by heaven— Kicks him.
Gud
Maſter, give the teſty old fool a clowt o'th car.
Arr.
What, art thou barking connſell to him?
Never were there ſuch a couple of whelpes
Harl'd together, hell take you both for muddy ſlaves;
He rather leave my revenues in the wals of a Hoſpitall,
Or build Temples for the next Faction to pull down,
Then beſtow it on ſuch a puppy.
Cre.
'T will become your diſcretion, Sir, to ſmother
Your anger for the preſent, let this dayes
Buſineſſe be paſt over ere you nouriſh the flame;
Then if you ſee no reformation, we ſhall not
Counſell to ought your judgment approves not of.
Lew.
Should you ſo untimely withdraw your love,
His diſgrace would reflect on your reputation.
Arr.
You ſhall prevail for this once, come Sirrah
—See thy behaviour redeem thy credit
—Or thou art loſt—
Gud.
—Loſt! hey—'tis no matter and we were
Both loſt, ſo we could find ſome of our old
Mates again—Ich can't abide theſe Courtnowles. Ex. om.
Enter Zanna. leading Glori. Oroandes Eurione.
Zan.
Muſt we part here?
Glo.
Yes there are ſome ceremonies yet to come
—Ere you enter farther—
Oro.
—To morrow night
No Cherubin will guard the gates that lead
Unto our blisful thrones, theſe Ivory temples
Will dedicated both to Janus ſtand
Open in all the Civill wars of love.
Eur.
How Oroandes—thou art wanton friend,
We yet are cloth'd in thoughts as pure and white
As new created Veſtals, ſuch diſcourſe
Will not be harmony—when fetter'd in
Your bridall beds, we willing captives lie.
Oro.
Nor diſcord my Eurione—the modeſt bluſh
Corals the Virgin cheek no longer then
The trecherous light betrayes her to the view
Of the delighted Paranymphs.
The curtain'd bed preſents unknown delights
Cloth'd in unpractic't nature, which improv'd
By loves aſſimilating virtue warmes
The unform'd embryo into full blown joy.
Eur.
What ſhall I call this, experimental or imaginary?
Oro.
Thy virtue beſt knows what—
Glo.
I ſee my Lord the active wars afford
Sometime to melt in paſſive thoughts, your ſteel
Soft love may poliſh to a looking glaſſe.
Eur.
Yes, and work the waving plume into a fan.
Glo.
The ſtubborn helmet into lawn, and ſtrew
Bodkins and pins for rapiers round their beds.
Zan.
Why, Ladies—though we have been
Immur'd in ſteel, we are no Cyclopes yet,
Our joints are ſupple, though not weak as thoſe
Whoſe knees are oftner to his Miſtris bowed
Then to his God, who meaſures out his life
In wanton Galliards, and a fidleſtick
Knows better how to handle then a ſword,
No ſtand of pikes their briſtled ſquadrons place
About our chins, nor are our lips hedg'd in
With quickſet beards which thatch a Scythians face.
The Souldier when he'th ſtew'd his bowels in
The bloud, and ſweat of enemies, is then
Moſt fit to kiſſe the balmy lips of peace;
His freſh and luſty appetite digeſts
What glutted Courtiers ſurfet on, and makes
They labour his refreſhing exerciſe.
Glo.
We cannot doubt the ſoftneſſe your limbs,
As long as flints will break on feather beds.
Zan.
Thy active wit my Glorianda ſports
In our rude fancies deſerts.
Oro.
Let her friend, to morrow night ſhe muſt
Impal'd within the narrow circle of
Thy armes bebarr'd that liberty, and then
Her world of Virgin thoughts will all conclude
In the poſſeſſion of Elyzium,
Her Lillies and thy Lawrell both will be
Oretopt by Cupids Myrtles. The Phoenix
And warlike Eagle to a wilderneſſe
Untrod by fancies future ſteps may flie,
Whilſt Venus D
•
ves are harbour'd in your breſts.
Enter a Page.
Pag.
—My Lord—
Oro.
To me!—thy buſineſſe. Gives him a Letter.
From his Majeſty.
It nought contains but what muſt be obeyed.
Pag.
I ſhall return that anſwer Sir. Ex Pag.
Oro.
They muſt not ſee this, it may contain
News that may ruffle all their calm delights.
Eur.
What was this fellowes buſineſſe Oroandes?
Oro.
The King hath ſent for me. Go virgin friends,
This night lie ſhivering in your native ice,
The blooming ſpring approaches, which muſt change
Your ſnow to beds of roſes—goodnight
—Bleſt Angels claſp their wings about your beds.
Ex. Oro.
Zan.
Come—Ile only wait you to your Chamber door,
And there—leave my beſt wiſhes to attend you further.
Ex ſeverally.
Enter the Prieſt of Hymen, two Maids leading Buffonie, Creon and Lewcippus leading Theocrine, Carlo born in a chair, Arratus with lights and attendants.
Car.
Carry me gently—oh that my pain ſhould ſo vex me at this good time!
Being come to the middle of the Stage, the candles begin to wax out, flaſhes of light within the curtain, Vanlore in manner of a ghoſt appears, and ſuddenly draws back within the curtain.
Pri.
What prodigies are theſe?
(Arr.)
The light appears again.
Car.
It is ſome ſpectrum.
(Buf.)
I hope the Devill wo' not forbid the banes.
He appears again, at which the bearers letting fall Carlo's chair,
•
un hastily forth all but Carlo, who lies ſprawling on the ground, to him enters one diſguized in a dreadfull ſhape repreſenting the Devill.
Dev.
—Prepare—prepare
I come to bear
Thy body where
No eye ſhall ere
Behold thee more, but thoſe that ſhare
With thee in everlaſting care.
Car.
—Oh!—Oh!—I cannot riſe,
Some good body ſave me from the ſpirit.
Dev.
Come—come away,
Hell hates delay,
I ſent the day,
And dare not ſtay,
Leſt light my ugly form betray,
Ghoſts may not ſee what mortals may.
Theocrine above.
Be gone foul fiend, there are ſome ſaving drops
Of mercy yet hang over him and ſtops
Thy eager haſt.
Dev.
Oh do not waſt
Thy time i'th' air, heaven his eternall doom
Hath ſeal'd with Orphanes bloud, but will no room
For ſuch dam'd ſouls admit,
Thou art call'd up to ſit
Circl'd with glory 'mongſt the blisful thrones,
But he caſt down, down, where in hollow groans
His ſins ſhall ſtill complain.
The.
Tears will waſh off their ſtain,
There needs no flames to purge them Live—live then
But only to repent on earth—which when
Perform'd, come reſt with me.
Car.
Where art? oh let me ſee.
The.
That is not in my power to grant—to thin
Unbodied aire I am reſolv'd, which in
This region only hovers
Till time and fate diſcovers
What will become of thee.
Dev
What but to go
Wi
•
h me where flouds of flaming ſulphur flow,
Through dark and ſouty caves,
Where endleſſe madneſſe raves,
Where living flame in everlaſting night
Still dying burns, but burning gives no light?
The buſie Furies there
His reſtleſſe bed prepare
Of molten gold ſpread o're with burning flakes,
Curtain'd with horror, and begirt with Snakes.
Then ceaſe, and haſt unto
Thoſe white ſouls that have flew
Above my reach, which I have only power
To envy not to hurt.
The.
But can the hour
Not be a while prolong'd?
Dev.
Then deſtiny were wrong'd.
Shaking his chains he runs towards him, at which enter the Prieſt in his pontificall ornaments, as he begins to read, the Devill roaring runs forth.
Pri.
I thought thou durſt not ſtand-to encounter with So brave an enemy as this.
A noiſe within, at which Carlo riſing runs halting forth. Ex. Prieſt.
Enter Vanlore, Theocrine, and two Bandeets.
Van.
They're gone—and too much frighted to return in haſt.
The.
Our plot hath equall to our wiſhes thriv'd.
Van.
I am indebted—brave Bandeets to you,
But will requite it in the like attempt
When ere occaſion ſhall require my aid.
1 Ban.
We are ſo much your creatures Sir, that tis
The child of duty, when our gratitude
Offers all ſervice to ſo loved a maſter.
Van.
Time will admit but ſmall commerce of words,
My actions ſtill ſhall ſpeak me yours—
The.
Dear Vanlore let's be gone;
They will purſue as ſoon as they've collected
Their yet unrallied ſpirits.
Van.
Thou art the loadſtone Theocrine, by whoſe
Attractive power the Compaſſe of my thoughts
Directed by thy wit, their Needle, ſteers
My almoſt Shipwrackt hopes, into a ſafe
And quiet harbor of content.
Ex. om.
Enter Oroandes alone reading a note.
Oro.
—The hour five—the place the plain beneath the
Hermits rock.
I have not miſt in either circumſtance,
Unleſſe my haſte anticipated time—it yet is not full five
—The morning hath not loſt her virgin bluſh
Nor ſtep, but mine ſoild the earths tinſel'd robe.
—How full of heaven this ſolitude appears,
This healthful comfort of the happy ſwain,
Who from his hard, but peacefull bed rous'd up
In's morning exerciſe ſaluted is
By a full quire of feather'd Choriſters
Wedding their notes to the inamour'd air.
Here Nature in her unaffected dreſſe,
Plaited with vallies and imboſt with hils,
Enchac't with ſilver ſtreams, and fring'd with woods,
Sits lovely in her native ruſſet, whilſt
Lame Art to hide her known deformitie
With painting ſurfets each diſcerning eie.
Enter the King diſguized.
Oro.
'Tis he, but ſtrangely chang'd.
Kin.
Oroandes, you're now a loyal Subject.
Oro.
All my ambition ne'r flew higher Sir,
Then in that region of your thoughts to thrive.
Kin.
There it was grown to full maturity
Ere thou wroteſt man, my Oroandes, but I muſt
Like wanton Nero either ruine all
The glorious ſtructure of thy hopes, or live
Impriſon'd in thy loyalty, thy life
Till now my ſtrongeſt fortreſſe is become
The fatall engine of my ruine.
Oro.
—Heaven—what have I done to merit this?
Kin.
Nothing but been too virtuous, and by that
Center'd affections, which I muſt remove
Or ſhake thee into Chaos.
Oro.
This language blaſts me, ſure I have no ſin
Ponderous enough to boy your vengeance up
Unto this dangerous height. Did I but think
One Viper lodg'd in my remoteſt thought,
I'd tear each fiber of my heart to find
The monſter forth, and in my bloud imbalm'd
Throw it as far as lifes ſhort ſpan can reach.
But heaven my witneſſe is, no flame of zeal
But hath been yours i'th ſecond magnitude,
My vowes of kin to thoſe I paid the gods,
My prayers, but love, and duty, fir'd into
A holy Calenture. Yet if all this
Like a ſmall Stars kind influence govern'd by
A regall Planets croſſe aſpects, muſt drop
Its fading beams into that houſe of death
Your fierce deſtructive anger, let me ſhew
The latitude of my obedience, in
Dying at the command of him for whom
I only wiſh to live. Did all my friends
Look on the object through their tears, the ghoſt
Of my dead Mother, capable of grief
As of eternity, and yet clothed in
Humanities moſt frail affections, all
Thoſe rivolets of ſorrow ſhould not waſh
The ſanguin ſtain of my reſolves, ſo they
If executed could procure a calm
In this high tempeſt of your ſoul.
Kin.
Thy virtue fathomes not my depth of guilt,
Such a prevention of my anger would
Only exchange the active paſſion for
Sorrow as inſupportable; thoſe characters
Which muſt unfold the ſables of my ſoul
Are in dark Hieroglyphicks hid, through which
Thy ſtrength of judgment cannot pierce.
Oro.
You ſpeak in miſty wonders, Sir, ſuch as lead
My apprehenſion into wilde Meanders.
Kin.
This will unriddle all our doubts—draw.
Oro.
Againſt my Soveraign! an act ſo wicked would
Re
•
ort the guilty ſteel into my breaſt.
Fear never yet marbled a cowards bloud
More then obedience mine, that breath hath lockt
In ice the panting channels of my heart,
No ſpirits dare from their cold center move.
Kin.
Will you deny—when I command?
Oro.
Pardon me royall Sir; had ſuch a voice
Legitimated my attempts, I had
Not paus'd at the incounter of a danger
Horrid as all the wars oth' elements,
When ruffl'd into ſtormes could preſent;
I would beſtride a cloud with lightning charg'd,
In's ſull carreer affront a thunderboult,
Leap through the clefts of earthquakes, or attempt
To prop the ruins of a falling rock,
Yet count all this my happineſſe, ſo I
Met death in the white robes of loyalty.
But to encounter ſuch a ghaſtly foe
In the black ſhadow of Rebellion, ſhakes
The ſtrongeſt pillars of my ſoul. You are my King,
My King—whoſe frowns ſhould be
More dreadfull to me, then oraculous truths
When threatning ſudden ruine; your ſacred perſon
Is circl'd with divinity, which without reverence
To touch is ſacriledge, to look on ſin
Unleſſe each glance is uſher'd with a prayer.
Kings are but living / temples, wherein is
As in the Nations center, the chief ſeat
Of their protecting God, and ſhall I then
Pollute my hands in bloud, whoſe every drop
Would ſwell my Countreys tears into a floud?
Kin.
Are my attempts priz'd at ſo cheap a rate?
Wears not my ſword a danger on its point
As well as thine?—draw—or I ſhall conclude
'Tis fear, not loyalty, that charmes thy hand.
Oro.
This ſtirs my bloud—were you a private man
That only had his better genius to
Protect him, though allied to me by all
The ties of Nature and of friendſhip, yet
Being thus far urged, our Swords long ſince ſhould have
Made known whoſe Stars the brighter influence had.
Kin.
I have unfetter'd all thoſe legall bondes—draw,
For thy denying now but ſleights my power.
Oro.
Then—ſince there's no evaſion, Or. draws.
Witneſſe ye Gods—my inocence is wrong'd.
—But gratious Sir— Kneels.
Before I fall—or ſtand, leſſe fortunate
To ſee you overthrow, oh let me know
What fate,—what cruell fate hath rob'd me of
The treaſures of your love: I never yet
Sullied my ſoul with any thought that might
Deſerve your hate, heaven is my faithful witneſſe
I harbour none of you, but ſuch as are
More full of zeal then thoſe pure orizons,
Which martyr'd Saints mix with their dying groans.
Kin.
And muſt ſuch goodneſſe die!—know noble youth,
I am ſo far from calling it deſert
In thee, that hath unſheathed my ſword, that in
This midnight ſtorm of fancy, I can ſhead
Some drops of pity too, pity to change
So true a ſubject for a treacherous gheſt.
I come not raſhly to attempt thy life,
But long have ſtrugl'd with my hot deſires,
Stood fiery trials of temptations, which
Have ſublimated reaſon till it's grown
Too volatile to be contain'd within
My brain, that overheated Crucible.
I am diſeas'd, and know no way to health
But through a deluge of thy bloud.
Oro.
There needs not then this ſtorm to break down
The bayes that verge the crimſon ſea—this ſtroke
Shall open all the ſluces of my bloud.
Kin.
Hold—or elſe thou rob'ſt me of my fixt reſolves.
—There is a cauſe—
Commands me die in the attempt, or kill thee.
Gro.
Dear Sir, reveal it—
That ere I fall my penitential tears
May from that leprous crime expunge my ſoul.
Kin.
Alas brave youth, thy innocence needs not
The layer of a tear, thy candid thoughts
White as the robes of Angels are, but mine
The dreſſe of Devils, I that ſhould protect
Am come to rob my beſt of ſubjects, to rob
Thee of thy deareſt treaſure; I know thy love
To fair Eurione inſeparable
As goodneſſe from a deity—yet muſt
Deprive thee of this darling of thy ſoul.
Oro.
With pardon, royall Sir, I cannot think
The Cyprian Princeſſe is ſo ſoon forgot,
With whom compar'd, my poor Eurione
Though bright to me, to more diſcerning eyes
Shine dim as the pale Moon when ſhe lets fall
Through a dark grove her melancholy beams.
Kin.
Dorſt thou affect her, yet diſpraiſe a beauty
That in its orb contracts divinity?
This prophanation, what had elſe been ſin
Will render meritorious—guard thy ſelf.
They fight, Antellus wounded.
Oro.
—Hah—thou bleedeſt.
Kin.
Oh but too ſlowly—if your wound admits
No other medicine, this will neer be balm.
Fight again, the King wounde.
Oro.
I doubt that thruſt—
Kin.
It was a gentle one, and hath concluded
The buſineſſe that we met for.
Now we are friends again; friends till death. Fals.
Oro.
Oh do not faint,
Call up your ſpirits Sir, there yet is hopes of life.
Kin.
None—my vitall powers fail—they're heavy leads,
My eyes are bowing to eternall night,
My heart beats thick alarmes, yet can rally
No troops of ſcattered ſpirits—oh—oh!—I faint.
Oro.
And I grow wilde with horror, wilder then
A flame provoked by angry winds.
—What ſhall I do? or whither flie,
To leave behind me this purſuing guilt?
A noiſe within.
Kin.
—Oh—oh—be gone—be gone Oroandes.
Some company draws neer.
Mayſt thou live long and happy in the imbraces
Of her, whom I unjuſtly ſtrove to have.
My dying wiſhes waits upon your joyes.
Oro.
Angels attend your lateſt hour, I go
From hence, but to my everlaſting wo. Ex. Oroandes.
Enter four Bandeets.
1. Ban.
S-death! Ile not looſe my ſhare.
2. Ban.
Nor I, by heaven, although I ſearch
For what's my own through my oppoſers bloud.
3. Ban.
Swounds! what d'ee quarrel for trifles?
Pox on you for covetous Raſcals, take all mine.
4. Ban.
And mine too, ſo you will be content.
1. Ban.
Another prize, the ſpoil of this will reconcile us.
2. Ban.
He bleeds—Sh-ho—he ſtirs not, let's ſtrip him.
3. Ban.
There's life in him—let's bear him off.
I have heard the captive Lady ſpeak of a pretious Cordial
ſhe hath, if it recover him, his ranſome may be better worth then theſe gaudy clothes—
4. Ban.
Here, lend your hands.
They lay the body on a Cloke, and ex.
Enter Buff. and Gudg.
Buf.
Oh Gudgeon we are undone, there is no recovering of her—what ſhall I do for another wife?
Gud.
Shall I let her cry Maſter?
Buff.
Ah, do good carefull ſervant, ſome of theſe honeſt people may chance to know of her, aloud good Gudgeon.
Mounts on a ſtool.
Gud.
—Oh yes—oh yes—oh yes
If any man—in City—Town—or Countrey,
Can tell any tidings of a ſtrayed Lady.
Enter Arratus and Carlo.
Arr.
What's this? A hobby-horſe dance?
Buff.
Oh no Sir—good Nunckel be quiet—
My man Gudgeon is only making known my loſſe.
Arr.
Is this thy grief, unpoliſht clown?
Buff.
Why ſhould I cry my ſelf as long as I had a man?
Arr.
Thou art a ſcandall which will ever ſtick
Like a corroding cancer on my name
—Be gone— Kicks him.
Back to thy ruſtick father, and there ſpend
Thy time 'mongſt beaſts leſſe ſavage then thy ſelf.
Buff.
Why then farewel, a turd for all ſuch Nunckels.
Come Gudgeon we'l een go home to plow again.
Gud.
Ay, and whiſtle better tunes then ere we learn'd at Court.
Ex. Buff. and Gudg.
Enter a Meſſenger.
Car.
Oh ſave me brother,
Here comes the ghoſt.
Meſſ.
My Lord Arratus, you are ſuddenly expected at the Court.
Arr.
Why good friend?—what's the matter?
Meſſ.
The King and my Lord Oroandes are miſſing.
Car.
How! loſt!—I hope my daughters meſſenger hath not tranſported them, was it a ghoſt carryed them away
friend? ſpeak man—I hear them ſtill.
M
•
ſſ.
I come not to jeſt Sir, my Lord, are you ready?
Arr
I will follow thee—how am I perplext?
Come brother I will ſee you to your Chamber.
Car.
We will not go through the Gallery,
The place ſmels of Brimſtone. Ex. om.
Enter Zannazarro, Glorianda, and Eurione.
Zan
How ſad a change is this! this morning was
Appointed for more joyfull enter views.
Glo.
When laſt nights ſlumbers rob'd our wakeful hopes
Of the delitious births of fancy, 'twas
With fairer promiſes, elſe our cloſed eyes
Had not been then m
•
de floudgates to theſe tears.
—Poor Eurione, I fain would comfort thee,
But my own griefs make me a ſtranger to
—That balmy language.
Zan.
Dear Siſter—thy paſſions are too violent,
The meſſengers are not yet all return'd,
Not have we ſpoke with Arratus, ſome of which
—May happily bring news of them.
Glo.
They may Eurione, ſtifle thy paſſions untill then.
Enter Arratus.
Zan.
My Lord, you either come to ſhare in grief
With us, or eaſe ours by ſome bleſt diſcovery.
—You've heard what royal mineral let flie this damp.
Arr.
Our Soveraign's loſt.
Glo.
Too ſad a truth.
Arr.
My largeſt intelligence lies within the wals of the
City, and there he hath not been yet heard of.
Is none with him my Lord?.—
Zan.
Yes, Oroandes—
Arrr.
I will go have the City ſearcht.
Eur.
That hath already proved a fruitleſſe labour.
Vain as the glimmerings of our hope, they're gone
Beyond the reach of our induſtrious care,
Some cruell fate hath laid an ambuſh to
Betray the ſtrength of all our joyes in them.
Enter a Meſſenger.
Zan.
Here comes our laſt of hopes, ſpeak thy ſucceſſe.
Meſſ.
Not good my Lord, we've traverſt all the fields
That circle loſty Erix, and yet ſeen
No chearfull beam of wiſht intelligence,
We le
•
t no traveller unaskt, no Cottage lay
So unfrequented but we found it out,
And into ſtrict examination took
Its ruſtick honour. Yet our journey was
Oft by the dangerous excurſions of
Troops of Bandeets obſtructed, ſafe from whom
Our ſpeed not ſtrength convey'd us, all we found
Worthy to fix an obſervation, was
A place beneath the Hermits rock, which ſtained
With ſtore of bloud, did by that bluſh confeſſe
So late a guilt, no cloud had ſince 'twas ſhed
Dropt tears enough to waſh it off, we ſearcht,
The purple graſſe, but no veſtigia found,
'Leſs this may do it, to inform us whence it came.
Shews a bloudy handkerchief which they finde to be the Kings.
Eur.
Oh my Prophettique fears!
Zan.
Our Sorrows are confirm'd.
Glo.
They are, in bloudy characters.
Arr.
I will go and ſecure the Cittadel, and cry treaſon▪
Ex. Arratus.
Zan.
—Sorrow outgrowes all my reſolves.
Eur.
And my heart rents with this divided grief.
Zan.
This is an act of theſe untamed Bandeets,
Theſe plagues of Sicily, but if the force
Of Syracuſe can bay their power, we'l have
Their heads to build a temple ore his grave.
The end of the fourth Act.
Actus Quintus.
The King led in by a Bandeet, Heroina preparing to dreſſe him.
Kin.
I've now got ſtrength enough to render thanks
Unto the fair preſerver of my life.
—Were is ſhe Sir?
Her.
Here, ready to ſecond my firſt weak indevours.
Kin.
They then were ſtrengthen'd by ſome power above
The common reach of art, my weakneſſe elſe
Had yet confin'd me to my ſickly bed.
He ſits whilſt ſhe dreſſes him.
Ban.
Let me aſſiſt you Lady—
Her.
Your change of colour argues faintneſſe Sir,
This will recall your ſpirits— Gives him a Cordial.
D'ee feel no alteration?
Kin.
Yes my ſpirits ſtir, as if they would ſhake off
The ſluggiſh weight of weakneſſe, I am grown
Active as if the vigorous ſtrength of youth
And health were wedded in my heart, my bloud
Runs as it ſcorn'd to be confin'd within
The channels of my veins, yet is allayed
By th'even temper of my ſoul. Sure this
Rare Cordiall was ſome deities rich gift.
Her.
The fitter to be given to thoſe they love,
For ſuch you are, elſe my poor medicines had
Ne're thus effected miracles.
Ban.
Am I no longer uſeful here? if not,
My buſineſſe cals me hence.
Kin.
Sir I ſhould wrong your curteſie to draw
You from the front of time, if ought that may
Concern your ſelf commands you hence.
Ban.
Then I will take my leave.
Kin.
My thanks attend you Sir. Ex. Band.
Her.
How much in every turning of the
•
ie
Doth he reſemble my heroick love? Aſide.
Kin.
You're ſad ſweet Lady.
Her.
I have a cauſe, and ſuch a one that did
You know, your goodneſſe would commiſerate
My wretched fortune.
Kin.
Reveal it Lady, I perhaps may be
Inabled then to give your Cordials back
In ſome ſuch curteſie as may deſerve
To be a thankfull handmaid unto yours.
Her.
I was reſolv'd to weep away my time
In private ſorrow, but diſcovery can
Not aggravate my woe, beſides I may
Venture to lodge a ſecret, where I have found
Such temperate virtues the ſouls portals bar,
Ile only with this queſtion uſher in
My own diſcovery,
•
s Sicily your place
Of birth or not?
Kin.
It is, and breeding both.
Her.
Ile not demand what were the Parentage
Where I find virtues plant Nobility,
Yet would be loath to a Plebeian breaſt
To truſt what I muſt now divulge.
Kin.
You may be confident, I am a Gentleman
As well by birth as education Lady.
Her.
I do preſume it Sir, and therefore wiſh,
Of all I now remain amongſt to be
Known unto you alone—
You never had relation to the Court?
Kin.
There was my breeding.
Her.
Neer the perſon of the King?
Kin.
One of his Bed-chamber, and 'tis no boaſt
To ſay as well belov'd of him as any,
There being in the opinion of the Court
A neer reſemblance of our looks.
Her.
Then ſure my name is not a ſtranger to you,
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Have you not heard of the Cyprian Princeſſe?
Kin.
The beauteous Heroina.
Her.
The wretched Heroina, ſuch I'm ſure
Is my condition in my preſent ſtate.
Kin
Pardon this child of ignorance, my rude Kneels.
And unbecoming boldneſſe.
Her.
Riſe Sir, we are companions yet,
And hope we ſhall be, till your royall Maſter
Poſſeſſe, what was long ſince intended his;
By what diſaſter I was caſt upon
This dreadfull precipice of danger, as
We are withdrawing Ile relate, but not
To tempt a danger ſtay you longer here.
Kin.
Your care can have no ſatisfaction but
A loyall ſervants prayers. Ex. om.
Enter Oroandes and a Surgeon.
Gro.
Not find the body ſayſt?—
Sur.
No Sir—yet by the large effuſion of his bloud
Had a too ſad aſſurance of the place,
Some Mountaineers have certainly c
•
nveyed
His body thence to burial; thoſe bloudy characters
Are arguments of no leſſe ill then death.
Oro.
—Then I am loſt eternally—loſt to all
That bears a ſhew of goodneſſe, heaven, and earth
Will both ſtrive to forget they ever knew
A ſoul deſorm'd with wickedneſſe like mine.
—My feveriſh ſins dry up the dews of mercy
In their deſcent, and blaſt all vertue that
Approaches neer me, I ſhall never find
A Saint in heaven, or Fiend on earth but will,
As a dire prodigy, created to
Scatter infection through the world, forſake
My ha
•
ed company, as fit to mix
With none but the ſociety of Devils.
Sur.
Sir I wiſh I in ought
•
lie could ſerve you.
Oro.
I thank thee friend— Ex Surgeon.
—Heaven—
What an unweildy monſter am I grown
Since by this act ſwel'd to a regicide—
—Oh my accurſed ſtars that only lent
Your influence to light me to damnation,
Not all my penitential tears will ere
Waſh off the ſpots from my ſtain'd ſoul, this gangren
Is cur'd by no Lixivium but of bloud.
My heart is lodg'd within a bed of Snakes
Such as old fancies arm'd the Furies with.
Conſcience waits on me like the frighting ſhades
Of ghoſts when gaſtly meſſengers of death.
My thoughts are but the inforc't retreats
Of tortut'd reaſon to a troubled fancy.
—Hah!—am I ſurprized—
Enter Surgeon.
Sur.
Sir not by me, I only finding that
You were much troubled at this accident,
Am come to lend you my aſſiſtance in
Concealing of your perſon, untill by
The mediation of your friends you may
Open theſe harſh obſtructions of your fate.
Oro.
This is a curteſie I never merited
Either from heaven, or thee their meſſenger.
My hopes are yet not wholly ruin'd, I will
Along with thee, and in ſome dark diſguiſe
Expect the clouded raies of better things.
Ex. Sur. and Oroandes.
Enter Vanlore, Theocrine, and Bandeets.
Van.
Now Theocrine I boldly may ingage
My promiſe for thy ſafety, we are paſt
All habitable places—
The.
Were not thy company my beſt ſecurity,
This deſerts wilde inhabitants would fright
Me more then all my fathers Scouts, to whom
Without a bluſh my innocence would dare
Diſrobe my actions, now I fear no fate
So ſad as the preventing my deſires.
Van.
Thou art the joy and comfort of my life;
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More chearfull then the ſuns ſociety
To winter ſtarved Scythians;—Come my Love
This bed of Violets courts us to repoſe.
Now,—now within the circle of my armes
I graſp a gem, by me more prized then all
The worlds five zones imbraces, now we live
I'
•
h' upper ſphere of fancy, and ſpin out
The eveneſt threeds of all our mortall web.
Theſe are the ſugr'd minutes of our lives,
The balmy drops that cure the minds ſad wounds.
Since man loſt Paradiſe, he knew no place
To emblem heaven, but in a womans face.
The.
Why thou art wanton friend, this is diſcourſe
For Love that hath not out-grown infancy,
Ours now is too mature—
Van.
Nor ever will, when we are both grown old,
Thy poliſht ivory furrowed o'er with age
In ſilver robes on beauties ruines plac't
Our mutuall wonder ſtill ſhall laſt, but I
Muſt binde up all the gaudy flowers of love
In threeds of admiration, no epithites
Such fragrant virtues ſeparated from
The generall name of good, can ere again
Pick out and bind them in due prayſes up.
The.
I can be well content to hear thee talk
On any argument, but a leſſe pleaſing
Thou couldſt not well have taken. Enter a Bandeet.
Ban.
S-death! Captain, what d'ee mean?
This is no place of ſafety, the wayes are all beſet
With troops of horſe, our Scouts beat in from all parts
Wounded and bloudy, if we all betake not our ſelves
To our armes we are loſt in an inſtant.
The.
Oh prithy Vanlore haſten hence.
Van.
I only fear thy ſafety. Ex. om.
Enter two Bandeets wounded.
1. Ban.
S death! we muſt be gone.
2. Ban.
Tis not our uſe to run.
1. Ban.
Pox on't, the oddes is unreaſonable.
2. Ban.
Swounds, I think they have horſt all the Carters in the Countrey, the thick skin'd rogues my Rapier could hardly pierce them.
2. Ban.
But theirs pierc't us, I have a wound here yawnes like a Dragon—let's haſten to a Surgeon.
Enter a Bandeet bleeding and fals.
3. Ban.
Hell periſh all the ſlaves,
I'm kill'd by a ruſtick dog.
And what torments me moſt, fall unreveng'd.
1. Ban.
Poor Brother we would help thee, but want it our ſelves.
3. Ban.
Yet bear me from the villains, and if your time
Permits, bury me like a Souldier, I was born
Of noble parentage, but drove by want
To theſe unlawfull courſes, and have this,
This for my puniſhment— One hollowes within.
2. Ban.
Hark—Swounds, we ſhall be ſurpriz'd
Here right ere long—
They bear off him that fell, and ex. om.
Enter Heroina alone.
Her.
What deſperate wretches do I live amongſt?
Terror allarums them from every ſide,
Their Scouts bring no intelligence but death
Approaching at their backs, and yet
They bathe in riot, and with bloudy oathes
Stab heaven betwixt each word they ſpeak, their prayers
Are only for damnation, though they breath
Their ſouls forth with that fearful wiſh.
Enter a Bandeet drunk.
1. Ban.
—Dam me—A ſhort life and a merry.
Swounds if we die—we die—let's be
Merry whilſt we live—
Her.
I tremble at this Villains ſight. Offers to go forth.
1. Ban.
Whether now Doxie—S-death! you
Whore come hither—Pox on your ſqueamiſh face,
Lie down—or Ile cut thy throat.
Her.
You will not offer to abuſe me thus.
1. Ban.
Dam me, Ile do'c, and thou wert my ſiſter,
Thy puling ſhall not ſave thee.
Her.
Upon my knees I beg thee not to touch me.
1. Ban.
Thou wilt be heard better lying upon thy back.
Her.
Thou knoweſt not whom thou injureſt;
—I am a Princeſſe.
1. Ban.
The better, then the boy I beget will be noble
By the Mothers ſide—Swounds, will you not bend?
Her.
Is none more civill near?
Enter the King.
Kin.
What villany is this,—
Forbear unhallowed ſlave, Snatches forth the Bandeets ſword.
This weapon ſhall revenge her if thou durſt
Abuſe her with the leaſt uncivil touch.
Enter two Bandeets.
1. Ban.
Swounds, help me here,
This Raſcall hath got my ſword.
2. Ban.
Dares the thawed ſnake to ſting?
Deliver him his ſword—
Kin.
I will, ſo you will promiſe he ſhall uſe
It not to force reſiſtleſſe womens honour,
As late he did attempt this noble Virgins,
And if by me not timely reſcued had
Made it the prize of his oremaſtering ſtrength.
3. Ban.
Muſt you Sir make conditions? They both draw and lay at him.
Whilſt they are fighting, enter Vanlore and Theocrine.
Van.
What is the cauſe of this?
Sheath your Swords, that man
That dares proffer another blow,
Forfeits his life for tribute to my ſword.
Her.
This was a timely reſcue, and hath by
The fair redemption of my honour, more
Then ſatisfied all thoſe arrears, your life
D'd ſtand ingag'd in to my uſefull art.
Kin.
The brighteſt ſtars that rule my fate did light
Me to the bleſt imployment, but had all
Set ere their influence had attain'd its end,
Had not this Gentlemans aſſiſtance lent
New vigour to their fading beams.
Her.
I muſt confeſſe a debt of thanks to him,
Which if irregular opinion prove
No enemy to his own ſafety, ſhall
Be ſuddenly diſcharg'd—You may perceive Sir
How black a ſtorm waits on the lives of all
Your wilde aſſociates, wherefore if you have
An overſwaying power amongſt them, chuſe
The now preſented opportunity
To free you from all future fears, which thus
Ile light you to, draw up your company,
And let thoſe perſecutors of my honour be
My convoy to the Court, you'l find a Prince
To be intreated, when your advocate
Bears Heroinaes name.
Vanlore kneels.
Van.
Pardon me beſt of women, and impute
My rudeneſſe, to my ignorance,
If any ſervice can extenuate
Crimes of ſuch monſtrous growth, our blouds ſhall pay
The forfeit of our diſobedience, in
The not performing it.
Her.
Your hopes of ſafety prompts me to believe.
—Come Sir—you ſhall attend us to the Court.
Kin.
I am your vaſſal Madam, proud to have
Such a command to uſher my deſires. Ex. om.
Enter Oroandes alone in the habit of a Forreſter.
Oro.
—Not yet—not yet at quiet—no diſguiſe
Is dark enough to curtain o'er my guilt,
Pale as the ghaſtly looks of men condemn'd
It ſits upon my Conſcience. I ſee there is
No place affords that ſoul a ſafe retreat
That is purſued by a ſharp-ſented ſin.
The proſperous murtherer that hath clothed his guilt
In royall Ermins, all thoſe furs of ſtate
Cannot preſerve from trembling, he looks on
Dejected wretches, as aſſaſinates,
And each petition for a ponyard fears.
—Yet theſe are more ſecure then I, they may
Pretend to merit in their wickedneſſe,
And call their crimes the cure of ſickly ſtates;
But I am left no refuge, leſſe to know
The depth of horror can no further go.
—Alas poor virtue, all thy white wing'd zeal
Is wrought into a bed of ſables, ſince
Leaving thy heavenly dictates I betrayed
My ſelf unto theſe ſooty gards of hell,
Whoſe black inhabitants already call
Me one of their ſociety;—my eyes
Are grown more killing then the Baſilisks,
And each vein fill'd with poiſon, ſince theſe hands,
Theſe curſed hands were ſtained with royal bloud.
—Hah—all this is true—
But do I want more deſperation yet?
Are there not fiends enough now waiting on me
To guide my trembling hand untill it reach
The center of my life?— Draws a ſword from behind the curtain.
This fatall weapon ſlew my Prince
—This was his bloud that ſtains it,—
The bloud that warm'd thoſe browes a crown imbrac't
—Let forth by me t'embalm the earth, and in
Warm vapors ſpend the pretious breath of life,
Which mounting upwards ſent perſumes to heaven;—
—But now thou muſt be dipt in that which will
Leave a perpetual ruſt upon thy ſteel
More fretting then a canker.—blaſt all that near it grows,
And as it cools infect the ambient air
With blaſts more deadly then the ſteams of hell—
—How it pants to come forth!—
Sets the Sword to his breaſt.
—Hah!—ſomething ſtayes my hand
My better Angel ſure hath left me quite
—How e'er I will not do it,
Although that every blaſt of air I draw
Be more tormenting then the gaſps of death.—
—No, I will live—live till diſvellop'd guilt
Makes me a publick ſpectacle of hate—and then
Fall with my ſins about me, when each tongue
Adds to their ponderous weight a full mouthed curſe.
—The ſubtill ſpirits, that like lightning flie
Thorow my bloud, hath yet not ſuffered me
To parle with ſleep ſince th' unhappy act,
—I find them ſomething calm'd, and will attempt
To reconcile them in this gentle ſhade.
Lies down, having lain ſtill a while enter two Bandeets.
1. Ban.
We have loſt our company.
2. Ban.
No matter, we ſhall finde the way to Court,
I fear nothing but how we ſhall do to live honeſt.
1. Ban.
The place requires it not, at moſt 'twill be Enough to ſeem ſo.
2. Ban.
Though we never us'd it much, I doubt not
But Hypocriſie is an art eaſily learn'd.
1. Ban.
Come let's haſten, I would willingly ſee thee
Between the King and the captive Princeſſe.
2. Ban.
Her captivity is like to be our redemption.
1. Bad.
If it prove not ſo, we muſt dance off the
Stage in a halter—What do they call her name?
2.
Heroina—daughter to the Cyprian king,
Betroth'd to ours a long time ſince, when he
Was abroad in his travels.
1. Ban.
'Twill be a joyful meeting unto them.
2. Ban.
Had we not had ill luck, a Bandeet had been his
Taſter.-.-They diſcover Oroandes.
How now, what have we here
—So ho—what art?—
1. Ban.
Tuſh, ſome drunk Forreſter, let him alone.
Ex. Bandeets. Oroandes riſes.
Oro.
Heroina!—A Princeſſe!
—And carying to the Court by Bandeets!
It is the unhappy Lady that was betroth'd
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Unto my murthe
•
'd Soveraign—lighted on
In their excurſions by theſe rennegadoes.
—Poor Lady—I have ſpoil'd her entertainment there;
—But I will follow them, and with my bloud
Crimſon the ſables that muſt cloud the day.
Ex. Oroan.
Enter Arratus, ſervants ſetting forth two thrones, the one richly adorned, the other covered in mourning, before the black throne a table, on which a Crown is laid on a mourniug cuſhion, before the other throne is plac't the picture of the King.
Arr.
Come—come—ſee all things in order
The Princeſſe is at hand—fie—fie,
This is an unexpected trouble—
—A way you groſſe witted raſcall—doeſt not ſee
We ſtrive to paint our ſorrow in checquer'd work,
But this 'tis when women ſit at the helm of ſtate,
They ſquare all Court entertainments to the faſhion
Of the laſt Romance they heard. Shout and acclamations within.
Hark, they are enter'd the
Palace, I hear the Cannon—
Go off from the Forts—be gone—and make way.
Loud muſick, the Lord high Marſhall, his white rod wreathed in black ribbon, next him, the King and Vanlore leading Heroina, her train born up by Theocrine.
At the other door (whilſt a ſoft and melancholly muſick playes within) Zannazarro, Glorianda, and Eurione all in mourning; Zannazarro kneels, and having kiſt Heroina's hand is raiſed by her, ſhe ſaluting the other Ladies.
Zan.
The beſt of welcomes this ſad place affords
Waits on your Graces entertainment.
Glo.
And we
•
to do what ſervice lies within
The verge of our indevours—
Her.
I thank you both ſweet Ladies, and muſt firſt
Imploy your ſervice in declaring what▪
Theſe ſilent emblems of a ſorrow mean.
I have not ſeen grief in the like diſguiſe,
The lawrell and the ſunerall Cypreſs here
Have wreathed their ill met branches, and contends
Whoſe leaves ſhall Crown the Syracuſian queen.
Zan.
Wil't pleaſe you aſcend your throne, and there
Lend your attention to the ſaddeſt ſtory
That ere did yet Siciliaes Annals blot?
She aſcends the throne.
Zannazarro drawes the curtain from before it, and diſcovers the picture of the King.
Zan.
Behold, great Princeſſe,
All but the memory of his living fame
Of Syracuſiaes Monarch. She ſounds and fals from the throne.
Glo.
Oh help—help the Princeſſe.
Eur.
Madam—dear Madam.
Her.
Oh—oh—God!—
Arr.
Bear her forth, and give her more air.
Her.
Hold—I am better here—if any thing
Revive my ſpirits, 'twill be this that puts
Me in the mind of my deceaſed Lord.
—Unhappy woman, firſt to know—then love,
Ingage thy faith, yet never to injoy!
Enter Oroandes in his own habit.
Her.
Why ſtand you thus amazed
〈◊〉
Zan.
Pardon us Maclam—had the united duſt
Of ſome dead friend, whoſe memor
〈…〉
•
ear forgot,
Viſited earth in his known ſhape again,
Our wonder could not have arrived unto
A higher pitch—
Let me imbrace thee friend▪
Eur.
—My deareſt Or
〈…〉
—
Oro.
Stand off—yet farther off;
You know not what you touch,
You ſafer far may grapple with a flame,
Or in his midnights walk affront a fiend
Arm'd with full vials of deſtructive wrath.
The graves inhabitants, when folded in
Corruption, are not more defil'd then I.
Zan.
What tends this language to?
Oro.
Deſtruction—Zannazarro.
Eur.
How haſt thou loſt thy temper Oroandes?
P
•
ithee look on me friend, or am I grown
A ſtranger to thy knowledge?—
Oro.
Leave me Eurione, thou art of kin
Unto thoſe hallowed Angels that did once
Attend my actions, and muſt now with them
A ſtranger to thy Oroandes grow.
Eur.
Neglected thus!—Alas—where ſhall I weep?
Her.
You are to me a ſtranger Sir, yet in
Your look I ſomething read that may concern
Your abſent Prince, collect thoſe ſcattered ſpirits
Now roaving in confuſion, and relate it.
Oro.
I would, but that it hath a ſound ſo full
Of trembling horror, 'twill unnerve your joints,
—Yet I muſt do't, no other way can lead
My ſoul from out this wilderneſſe of fleſh
—He's murther'd.
Zan.
—By whom?—
Oro.
This curſed hand; d'ee ſtart?
I thought 'twould ſtrike the bloud out of your cheeks,
And make you paler then the act made me.
'Twas I—'twas I, that when your blooming hopes
Chear'd with the ſun of Majeſty, were grown
Big with expected favours, did eclipſe
The glorious light in a black cloud of death.
I cut the heartſtrings of the Land, and fed
The groaning earth with bloud, whoſe purple had
Been by an ancient ſtock of anceſtors
Died into royalty.
Van.
Ingratefull ſlave, why are our ſwords ſo ſlow
—To execute the villain?
Eur.
Oh hold, believe him not—he raves,
Theſe are the births of a diſtemper'd brain.
Oro.
Thou haſt but injured me Eurione
In ſtaining their juſt fury—farewel,
Reſt in E
•
izium whilſt I roar in hell. Eurione fals.
Zan.
—Oh brother, if this be true, thou haſt undone us all.
Oro.
True—do not think
'Tis any natural diſtemper that
Spreads this malignant vapour through my veins,
Which nought but th' poiſon of my guilt corrupts.
—No I have done it brother,
And you are all bound as you love your Prince
To ſee't reveng'd with torments, here's a note
Will when I'm dead direct you where to find him.
And now I've done my buſineſſe on the earth,
Ile give the firſt ſtroak to revenge, and here Sets the Sword to his breaſt.
Open a paſſage for your Swords to enter.
As he is offering to ſtab himſelf the King ſtayes his hand.
Oro.
What bold hand is that?
Kin.
One that here may claim a priviledge, Throwes off his diſguize.
—Riſe thou mirror of true loyalty,
—Ne'r higher in our favour.
They all kneel.
All.
Our gratious Soveraign!—
—Welcome—oh welcome royall Sir!
Kin.
You are all my much loved Subjects, ſuch in whom
Never was king more bleſt—Madam
Your preſence crowns our bleſſings—now I ſtand
Exalted in the zenith of my fate.
Who would not paſſe a ſtormy night, to be
Thus courted by a lovely glorious day?
—You all are ſharers in my heart,
—But thou my Love—
To Heroina.
The great commandreſſe of that royall fort.
—Off with theſe night p
••
c't curtains, no ſuch vail
Shall cloud the perfect beauty of our joyes.
Puls off the black from the throne.
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Aſcend this throne, a place too humble for
Virtues ſo near allied to heaven as thine.
Now you expect the ſtory of my fate
In Syracuſ
•
s ſeeming Widowhood,
But the full ſea of pleaſure cannot yet
Contract its ſwelling waves, tumultuous joyes
Cannot be reconcil'd into diſcourſe,
Till Hymens topour to poſſeſſion lights
Our juſt deſires, that eldeſt childe of hope.
—I only have a promiſe to perform
Before you all unto this Gentleman,
And then will haſten to diſcharge the Arrears
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and ingag'd in to your loyalty.
—Are the Priſoners ready?
Van.
They wait at the door Sir.
Kin.
Go fetch them in, thou muſt my dear Ent. 2 Band
•
e
•
s leading Carlo.
Meet my firſt known imbraces, in the ſeat
Of long neglected Juſtice, ſet forth the Priſoners.
—My Lord—read the Indictment—
Reads.
Vincentio Carlo, you are here accuſed of a murther committed on a Syracuſian Gentleman, his name Vanl
•
re, the act done by two Souldiers whom you hired in the Camp at the ſiege of Ardenna: Guilty or not guilty?
Car.
Not guilty and pleaſe your good Grace, alas I never knew the man, I!—therefore I beſeech your Majeſty to be good to me, I am a poor ignorant man, and full of grief for the loſſe of my only daughter—
Kin.
That will be proved an act of your own,—Read on.
Reads.
My Lord Arratus, you are here accuſed to be of confederacy with Signior Carlo in the murther of his daughter Theocrine.
Arr.
Who I!—why I!—who dares?
Kin.
Bandeets lay hold of him, where are the witneſſes?
Enter two officers leading Creon and Lewcippus going lame and bound about the head.
Cre.
Oh—oh—ſo weak, I am hardly able to go to the Bar.
Lew.
I doubt we ſhall find it a harder march
To the Gallowes, but this I may thank thy villainy for.
Cre.
Thou lieſt Raſcal, thou promptedſt me to all.
Kin.
Read their accuſations.
Reads.
Creon and Lewcippus, you are hear accuſed for murthering Vanlore, at the ſiege of Ardenna, and being acceſſary to the death of Theocrine, daughter to Vincentio Carlo; Guilty or not guilty?
Cre.
Not guilty—my Lord, I confeſſe I was with this villain Lewcippus hir'd to do it, by this wretched Carlo, but had no hand in the murther, it was Lewcippus committed it.
Lew.
I hope your Majeſty will not believe him,
For the Varlet is compoſed of falſehood,
In the death of Vanlore he was as far forth
As my ſelf, but for the loſſe of Theocrine
We neither of us had any hand in it,
It was a plot contrived by Carlo, and my Lord
Arratus, but for what ends we know not.
Arr.
I hope my good ſervice to your Majeſty
Hath merited better then to have my reputation
To be call'd in queſtion by a common Rogue.
I proteſt I will ſue the Raſcall for a ſlander,
—I will ſlave—by mine honour I will.
Kin.
Swear not my Lord, by what you have abus'd;
Honour (that venerable title) was
Slain when to'th law you forfeited your life,
Bleeding to death at thoſe unworthy wounds
Which theſe low actions to high titles gave.
—Stand all forth, and attend your doom.
Car.
Be merciful—oh good my Liege, be merciful.
Arr.
Swounds! I ſee I ſhall be cheated of my head.
Kin.
Your actions merit none, yet ſince it is
The beſt companion of a Judge, we'l in
Her virgin zone the ſword of Juſtice wear.
—Diſcover your ſelves— Puls off the veil from Theocrine, at which Vanlore diſcovers himſelf.
Here are the witneſſes, brought to affirm our accuſation.
Car.
Oh let me go—they are Spirits,
Ghoſts—Hobgoblins—I will not ſtay,
This is ſome inchanted place.
1. Ban.
Nay Sir, you are too faſt to ſtir.
Arr.
S-death! what jugling's this?
Vanlore and Theocrine kneel to Carlo.
Van
Sir recollect your ſpirits—and beſtow
A bleſſing on us, both your children now.
Car.
Nay it is no point of my Religion to pray for the dead.
The.
Sir we ſtill live, and live to want your prayers.
Car.
I want my money more that theſe two Rogues have
Couſened me of, I hope your charity will
Make them reſtore it again, I am
An old man and like to come to want,
And every one hales what he can catch from me.
Kin.
Curſed Miſer, the Law will free thee from the fear of want;
For though thy damn'd intentions did not wade
So far as action into guilt—thy life
Is forfeited for the intended ſin. Vanlore and Theo. kneels.
The.
If we were ever gracious in your eyes,
Let us beg pardon for him.
Kin.
Their lives are yours, yet juſtice muſt not be
Robb'd of all intereſt in them, for your ſakes
We'll miti gate their puniſhments. All Carloes wealth,
That Devill which did tempt him to this ſin,
Being by the Law made forfeit unto us,
We with his daughter, the fair Theocrine,
Wholly beſtow on Vanlore.
Car.
Oh I am undone—I am undone,
I had better been hang'd out of the way
Then to have liv'd to have ſeen my goods
Thus gave away before my face.
—Oh that ever I was born!
Kin.
For Arratus—becauſe he valued wealth
More then his honour, he ſhall ever loſe
Thoſe glorious titles, now grown burthenſome
Unto his age, which may betake it ſelf
To needfull reſt, whilſt all his places of
High truſt are by the worthier Vanlore managed.
On whom, as but a juſt reward unto
His merits, we beſtow them.
Van.
Your Majeſty will by your goodneſſe teach Me future gratitude—
Arr.
And me perhaps repentance when too late.
Kin.
For theſe two villains, the baſe inſtruments
Unto your guilt, ſince we deſire to have
No bloud defile this dayes ſolemnity,
Let them by publick Edict be for ever
Excluded our Dominions. And now we've ſheath'd
The ſword of Juſtice, let me open wide
The armes of Friendſhip, unto you that have
Been maſqu'd in this Meander of our fate.
My debts are great to all, but muſt remain
In full arrear, untill my offerings paid
To ſacred Hymen, gives me liberty;
Whoſe Altars now we'l all prepare to warm
With the pureſt flame that ere Sicilia ſaw.
Come Heroina, let's conduct them to
The Temple, where united hands ſhall prove
Our cares are conquer'd by Victorious Love.