EMILIA.
First Edition.
London
[...]for the [...]
[Page] To the Onely Few.
I Print not this Play before it is Acted, to make it more Publick, but onely more Legible for those who are to judge of it; who, if they like it in this Undress, will much more in its Theatrical Habit: And if every one who writes for the Stage, would do the like, the Actors would not vent so many Plays on credit of their Authors, nor the Authors of themselves. Nor is there any danger (Printing it as I do) that it should loose the grace of Novelty, I intending to communicate it onely to a few; and I have seen many Manuscripts more publick, than this is ever like to be.
The Plot, I have taken the hint of, from La Costanza di Rosamondo, of Aurelio Aureli, the fittest for our English Stage, and fullest [Page] of delightful variety, as I could finde in any Foreign Tongue.
The Writing or Language, I have accommodated to the Persons, Verse; for the more Heroick, and Prose, for the rest, with often allay of this with the other, to make it more flexible, which else would be too stiff.
For the Rhyme, which is onely the finishing of our Verse, and which our English Ears by Custom do so expect, as they will scarcely allow Verses to be compleat without it, I will not commend it, because it has so many Potent Enemies; nor condemn it, because it has so many Potent Friends, but leave it to others judgments, as I do all the rest.
PROLOGUE.
WE know you expect a Prologue to our Play:
And for our parts, we know not what to say,
For some body, we must abuse in it,
Or else you'l think our Author has no wit,
And we know none, on whom't can better fall,
Than on our Poets,—then have amongst them all.
Some onely Prologue Makers are, and they
But go a snip with him who makes the Play.
Others write single Scenes, but when it comes
Toth' making up, all's but loose Ends and Thrums.
Some write such low and creeping Prose, you'ld swear
They very Reptils of a Language were.
Others again (and they'r your High Boys, those)
Do piece an end of Rhime unto their Prose,
To make it Verse, as Clowns for greater grace,
With piece of Taffaty, their Fustians face.
Then th'are so long and tedious, here you come
Instead of taking Poppy or Opium:
Or else, pass time, in Conversation,
With Damsels of the Pit, till th' Play be done.
Lastly, Their characters they quite mistake,
Whilst they their valiant Man, a Hector make.
Their Prince the Fool o'th' Play, and Noble Woman
As Ranting and as Ramping as Dol Common.
Now Gentlemen, to tell you true, 'tis thought,
That of all this, you chiefly are in fault,
For who, to write good Plays, wou'd ever care,
When bad and good equally praised are,
And equally disprais'd?
And y'are so critick grown, you wont allow
That any one can make a good Play now.
But let that pass, this is your Poets day,
And you've had yours; wherefore we'll onely say,
Do you judge better, and they better write,
And we, I'm sure, shall be the better by't.
The Persons Represented.
- The Duke of Micena.
- The Prince his Son.
- Calimachus his General.
- Palemon, Calimachus Friend.
- Agenor, a Courtier of Micena.
- Cleanthes, a Courtier of Argos.
- Clymias
- Cleobulo
- Servants to Emilia.
- The Dutchess of Micena.
- Emilia, Calimachus's Lady.
- Aurindo, Princess of Argos, disguised, En Page.
- Cleora
- Olinda
- The Dutchesses Women.
- Althea, Emilia's Woman.
- Servants.
- Guards.
- [Page] The Spirit of Rebellion.
- The better Genius of Kingdoms.
- Victory.
- Chorus.
- Dancers.
- The Attick Rebels.
- One representing Calimachus, a Mute.
THE SCENE.
MICENA.
The Unity of Place (besides that of Time and Persions) so exactly observed, as there is never any breach or breaking of the Scenes, until the end of the Act.
EMILIA, A TRAGEDY.
ACT I.
SCENE I.
A Piazza, with the Prospect of Emilia's Pallace.
Enter Agenor, Cleunthes.
Age.
ONce more y'are kindly welcome to Micena.
You oblig'd me at Argos, by so many ties
Of noble Courtesie, and Civilities,
As I am bound to thank you for them here.
Cle.
Ne'er talk of that, for whatsoe'r they were,
Such common things, thank and reward themselves.
Wherefore, I pray, let's talk of somewhat else.
We hear your Wars in Attica are done,
And General, crown'd with Victory coming home.
Age.
We hear so too, and that has gain'd no less
Honor in War, than's Lady has in Peace.
Who, 'mongst the rest, that rare Receit has got
To silence Rumor, and stop Slander's Throat,
[Page 2] By living so retir'd, whil'st he's from home,
She'll visit, nor be visited by none.
But now we talk of Ladies, how does your fair
Princess of Argos? When our Prince was there,
It was our hopes he shou'd have married her;
And we much wond'red he did not.
Cle.
'Twas our hopes so.
And we indeed wond'red as much as you,
He shou'd so suddenly leave her; but much more that she
So suddenly after, should leave her Country.
Since when, none knows what is become of her.
And search of her, has cheifly brought me here;
Well knowing which ways Lovers hearts do move,
When once th'are toucht with th' Adamant of Love.
Age.
I known't what hers, with his was, but I fear,
His was but slightly toucht with love of her,
Who's now wholly inclin'd another way
Unto the love of fair Emilia.
About whose Pallace, he
Carefully seeking opportunity
Of seeing her, goes wand'ring day and night,
Whil▪st sheas carefully avoids his sight.
Cle.
Why then I see, if his love that ways lies
Amongst the many impossibilities
Of things ne'er were, nor are, nor like to be;
We well may number Lovers Constancy.
SCENE II.
Aurindo musing, &c.
But stay! What fair and beauteous youth is this?
Seems Natures cheifest Pride, and Master-piece.
When doubtful whether Sex to make, she made
One, who of either, all Perfections had.
Age.
O! 'tis Aurindo, the Princes Page, whom he
Much loves and cherishes, but pardon me.
Some earnest business calls me hence away;
Mean time, beseech you Sir, whil'st you make stay,
And residence here,
I may have honor of serving you.
Exit Agenor.
Cle.
O Sir!
You too much honor your servant
So, now I'll observe again
This youth here; there's somewhat; methinks, in him
That I should know.
Aur.
Ah, now too late I finde,
'Tis not the change of place, but change of minde,
Must bring me rest, else it no more d oes stead,
Than sick mens restless turning them in Bed.
Who finde at last, they turn, and turn in vain,
And bear their sickness, but along with them.
Cle.
'Tis she infallibly.
Aur.
Cleanthes, What shall I do
To hide me from him?
Cle.
Nay, now tis she, I know,
By her care, not to be known.
Hark you fair gentle youth,
A word with you, I pray.
Aur.
[Page 4]With me Sir! Pardon me, y'are one I do not know.
Cle.
But I must ask pardon, for knowing you.
However I shall call you Aurindo still;
Or whatsoever other name you will,
In publick be known by, so in private you'll give me leave
To know you for my Princess.
Aur.
Though you might well perceive
Cleanthes, I desired not to be known;
And therefore 'twas a bold presumption.
I pardon you yet, since I well know 'twas meant
And done, with no undutiful intent;
But charge you keep secret my being here,
Within your silent Brest, neither inquire
The reason of my coming, whilest here I stay
(Which I imagine wont be long) you may
Know me alone: But before company
I charge you don't, least you discover me.
And hark, I hear some coming, go, begone
And leave me.
SCENE III.
Althea, Aurindo.
What is't onely she?
This is Emilia's Woman, now shall I be
So troubled with her; yet I must stay, for she's
Likeliest to tell me where my Master is.
Alt.
I saw him coming.
And though I'd never so urgent business,
I could not but come and meet him;
[Page 5] For we Waiting▪women, love Pages as naturally
As our Ladies their little Dogs and Monkeys.
Aurindo, well met, 'tis so long since I saw you last,
I may well expect that courtesie of a salute from you.
Aur.
O! I were discourteous else.
Good Althea, I'm glad to see you well.
Alt.
And is that all?
Aur.
Ay, what would y'have more?
I know no other salute.
Alt.
You can't be so ignorant, I'm sure, to know no better,
What salutes belong unto a Woman.
Aur.
You would not have me make you a cursie, would you?
That's your Womans salute,
For Mens I know no other.
Alt.
I'll teach you then, Fie, fye, for shame; a Page
And so bashful, I must learn you more boldness.
Aur.
First learn your self more modesty, I pray—away
Alt.
I shall have more ado, I fear,
To train him up to Womens businesses,
Than a wilde unruly Colt unto the Manage,
Look you what I've here for you?
[Takes Sweet-Meats out of her Pocket.
Aur.
Away with your trash.
Alt.
Nor wanton, nor liquorish neither!
And a Page too!
Aur.
But why do I stand trifling here?
You ha'nt seen my Lord the Prince?
Alt.
Yes, but I have though.
Aur.
[Page 6]And where I pray?
Alt.
Where y'are not like to finde him.
Let that suffice.
Aur.
Nay, if you can tell
No other news of him, but so—Farewel.
Exit.
Alt.
Stay, stay a little,
And for a kiss I'll tell you—poor youth. Introth,
I pitty him he is so bashful;
For Bashfulness in Man, is worser far
Then Impudence in Woman, and the reason's plain,
For Bashfulness makes a Man the worser Courtier,
But Impudence a Woman the better Courtesan.
Within Althea, Althea.
Aur.
Uds so, my Lady calls?
And I've forgot, the Prince too.
SCENE IV.
Emilia, Althea.
Em.
Althea where are you?
Alt.
Here Madam.
Em.
And why not here?
Knowing I have no other company besides your self,
Now my Lord's away.
Alt.
That's your fault Madam; for, if you please, you may.
Other Ladies have never more company,
Than in absence of their Lords.
Em.
More indiscreet they.
And did they but know, what people say of it,
I am assur'd they would be more discreet.
Alt.
What need you care what the people say,
[Page 7] So you be innocent?
Em.
That in the days of Innocence might suffice,
When to be innocent, was to be wise.
But now without the Serpents wisdom too,
The innocence of the Dove, will hardly do.
And there's 'gainst sland'rous tongues, but small defence,
For Womans honors now in Innocence;
When at the best 'tis Vertue but unarm'd,
The more they trust unto't, the more th'are harm'd.
Alt.
Yet I have heard you contemn the Worlds report.
Em.
And so I do, that of the vulgar sort.
The meanest and the lowest rank of Men,
Reports of such, indeed, I so contemn.
As I shou'd ask, what mean low thing I'd done,
That might deserve their commendation, should they commend me.
Since who their approbations wou'd have,
Shou'd ne'er do any thing that's high and brave.
Alt.
Wou'd you'd do some of these brave and high things once,
To make you famous.
And what made Penelope so I pray,
But her admitting so many visitants,
Whil'st her Husband was away.
Em.
Tell not me of what Penelope did,
Who her example will so far exceed,
As I'll not onely admit no company
The whil'st my Lords away to visit me.
But not so much, as thought of any one
Shall enter into my minde, but him alone.
Alt.
[Page 8]Since you'll needs remember him then so much.
How can you better do it,
Than by recommending him, in your Orations to the Gods?
And he being now actually in the Wars,
To whom can you better recommend him, than to
The God of War?
Em.
Now thou advisest well,
Open the shrine then,
[The statues of Mars is discovered.
Alt.
With all devotion.
Em.
Great God of War, whose potent Arm do weyl'd,
The deadly pointed Lance, and mighty Shield;
Fight for my dear Calimachus. With the one,
And with the other, O defend him from
His enemies abroad; and grant that he
May safely, but return with victory.
So shall I ever honor thee, ever pay
My vows unto thee; and on thy Altars lay,
The choicest Victims as I e'er can get;
Or e'er were laid upon thy Altars yet.
Here me great Mars.
SCENE V.
The Prince in Form of Mars's Statue.
Pr.
I do.
Em.
Prodigious!
The Statue speaks.
Pr.
[Page 9]'Tis you, Madam, who thus
Have animated it.
Alt.
Now, now the game begins.
Aside.
Em.
Cold horror ceises me, and I'm become
Of living, a dead statue;
As that of dead's become a living one!
And see it moves too!
Alt.
Fear not, Madam, I'll warrant you
'Twill not hurt you.
Pr.
Your charming Beauty, Madam,
Has given me Life, and Motion; and if
In the cold Veins of Marble, it could inspire
Such vital Heat, such Active Flame and Fire;
What active Flame, what Fire, what vital Heat,
In my warm Bossom must it needs beget?
Em.
Ha! My Lord the Prince!
[Discovers himself.
Pr.
Your servant, Madam,
For you, first chang'd to statue thus; and then
For you, thus chang'd into my self agen.
Em.
There is some plot in this—How came you hither?
Pr.
Your powerful charms, Madam, did bring me there.
Alt.
That's well answer'd, I was afraid he would have said 'twas I.
Em.
And what is't wou'd you have, now you are here?
Pr.
Onely I desire that you wou'd hear me speak.
Em.
For that y'have spoke already too much, I fear,
And more then I, in honor ought to hear.
[Page 10] Wherefore I pray no more. You might as well
Talk to the dead, who in their Graves do dwell,
As unto me; who whil'st my Lord's away,
Am no less dead and buried than they.
Pr.
Then if you'll needs be dead, I▪ll die with you,
And we'll to th' Elizian shades together go:
Where in such sweet and ravishing strains as these,
Heroick Lovers Court their Mistresses.
Fairer then fairest, if your Eyes,
Clearer than the clearest Skies,
Daign to look upon a Lover;
Who this bold Truth dares discover;
That he loves, and loves most true,
And ne'er lov'd, but onely you.
Behold of all your Sex, the fairest,
Dearest, sweetest▪ and the rarest,
The humblest of your servants here,
Suspended betwixt Hope and Fear;
Awaits from you his destiny,
Whether he shou'd live or die.
Em.
My Lord, who d'ye imagine me to be,
That you shou'd talk of love, thus unto me!
I have a Husband and Honor to look unto.
Alt.
Shame o'this Honor, I fear all will not do.
Exit.
Pr.
We talk of Love, even to the Gods; and they,
Madam, are not displeas'd with what we say.
And I presum'd, I might do so to you;
And you as little be displeas'd with't too.
Em.
Betwixt us Mortals, and th'Immortal Gods,
There is such mighty difference, and odds
[Page 11] As that may them, that does not us befit,
Wherefore, beseech you, speak no more of it.
Pr.
Of what shou'd I speak, but onely of love to you,
Who are all lovely, were you as loving too?
Em.
Still more of love?
Pr.
How can I chuse? Since witness Heaven, that as
I never think of Roses, but does bring
Into my minde, the memory of the Spring.
So I ne'er think of Love, but strait I finde
Your lovely memory comes into my minde.
Enter Althea.
Em.
Nay, then—
Alt.
O Madam, Madam!
Em.
Ha! What's the matter?
Alt.
My Lord, the Duke's without.
Em.
He here!
What shall I do then? Beseech you, my Lord, be gone;
For if he findes you here, w'are both undone.
My Honor will be question'd by't▪ and you
Will for dishonoring me, be question'd too.
Pr.
What shall I do?
Alt.
For that, let me alone,
I am old excellent at Invention,
To your disguise, to your disguise my Lord,
Be but a statue agen,
And all will be well, you'll see.
Em.
Nay, quickly then.
I fear this visit of the Duke, whose hot
[Page 12] Soliciting me, sufficiently declares,
The reason why he sent my Lord to th' Wars.
But by my coldness I'll declare again,
That if he hopes to speed, he hopes in vain.
SCENE VI.
The Duke Emilia, &c.
Duke.
Rarest of all that ever Nature made:
Light in the dark, and Sun-shine in the shade.
What means your Vail, as if you widowed were,
And all these signs of solemn mourning here?
I bring you joyful news the wars are done,
And your Calimachus a coming home.
Cease then to grieve and mourn, and strait prepare
A Sacrifice▪unto the God of War.
Alt.
Plague o'these Sacrifices, I fear they'll choak
Our God of War here, with their smoth'ring smoak.
[Aside.
Em.
For that, it will be time enough to burn,
Sacrifice t'him at my Lords return:
Our thanks▪ are now best Sacrifice we can give
Unto the Gods, and best they can receive.
And next to them, my thanks, my Lord, to you,
For bringing me the joyful news you do.
Du.
For your thanks, Madam, 'tis a reward so poor,
You give me nothing, 'less you give me more,
They are like Ciphers, nothing, till you adde
Some Figure to them, by which they are somewhat made.
Add but your Love unto your Thanks, and I
Shall then rewarded be abundantly.
Em.
[Page 13]You are my Prince, my Lord, and there is due.
A reverence I shall always pay to you.
Duke.
That's too ceremonious, pray treat me,
Madam, with more familiarity.
Em.
This is too familiar,—Pray let me alone.
Is this the example, you give the Prince your Son?
Duke.
Pho, he's not here, and neither sees, nor hears
What we do now.
Em.
But Statues have Eyes and Ears.
[Discovers the Statue.
Alt.
What means she! will she discover him? Aside.
Em.
And see,
In just resentment of the injury,
You'd do the best of Warriers, the God of War
Begins to stir in't, don't you see him there?
[The Statue moves a little.
Duke.
Ha! Methinks▪ indeed, I see't!
And I'm amazed at the sight of it!
Alt.
I must finde some means to send him away,
She'll mar all else.
Exit Althea.
Duke.
But, come, come, Madam, leave this pannick fear,
Here's nothing else but a vain Idol here;
Or that which is a vainer Idol yet,
Your Honor, that does all these fears beget;
That onely is a word, a breath, a blast,
Which's soon as 'tis pronounc'd, as soon is past.
Em.
So is our Soul, only a blast or breath,
And yet we see our Bodies▪ Life, and Death,
Depends upon't, as on our Honor does
That better and nobler Life that lives in us.
[Page 14] Measure my Honor then, but by your own,
What is a Prince, when once his Honor's gone?
And for my part, my Lord, I'd have you know,
My Honor's as dear to me, as your's to you.
Duke.
Why shou'd you be so passionate for a thing,
That does more pain unto's, than pleasure bring?
Love's the commanding Passion of the Soul,
And all our other Passions does controul.
Do you but love me then, as I do you,
You soon would let all other Passions go.
Em.
My Lord, I wou'd not be uncivil;
But if you longer talk of Love to me,
You'll please to pardon me, if I go away
And leave you.
Duke.
Stay, I command you stay:
Remember I'm your Prince.
Em.
Remember it you,
And do, my Lord, what Princes ought to do;
Govern your Passions,
Let Reason rule you, as you rule others; and
Command nothing, but what you shou'd command,
Else your commands, though you were ne'er so great,
Are less to me, than if you did intreat.
Duke.
How now proud Lady?
Em
I am so, and t'has always been allow'd,▪
To such as I, to be a little proud.
If it be Pride in one that is a Wife,
T'esteem her Fame and Honor, more than Life.
If it be Pride, to scorn to be one of those,
Who put base Vices on, with noble Cloaths.
And finally,—if it be Pride,
To hate, and to detest all Vice beside.
[Page 15] Let who'slist, call it vitious, for me,
Be it their Vice, it shall my Vertue be.
Enter Althea.
Alt.
O Madam, Madam!
Em.
What, more news with you?
Alt.
My Lord's return'd.
Em▪
Is't possible?
Duke.
Unknown to me;
No Letters of it before? It cannot be!
Alt.
I can assure you ▪tis true, nay, what is more,
He's coming in, and just now at the door.
Em.
Beseech you then, my Lord, go presently,
'Tis dangerous, shou'd he finde you here with me.
Calimachus loves me more than▪s life I know,
But's Honor more then me, wherefore pray go
Before he comes.
Duke.
I can't tell what to think on't!
[Exit Duke.
Alt.
Nay this is no time of thinking,
This ways, this ways, my Lord—So let him go
To's Dutchess, if he will, she's young and handsome:
And having so fair a Bed-fellow at home,
He has less need to seek abroad for one.
But for the Prince, the poor young Prince,
That's wholly unprovided. Introth,
'Twere charity to help him a little.
Em.
Well remembred,
Help him, help him away, by any means,
Before my Lord comes.
Alt.
Never fear that, his coming
Was onely a story fain'd by me, to se d
[Page 16] The Duke away.
Em.
Nothing else?
Pr.
Excellent Wench,
Then I may be my self agen,
[A noise of fighting without.
Em.
Hark? what noise is that?
Alt.
I know not, it comes from the Garden Gate.
Em.
Clashing of weapons! louder and louder still;
There is some fighting—Go,
Call up all our Servants.
Alt.
What, Clymias, Cleobulo.
Exeunt.
Manet Prince.
Pr.
What noise is this? It comes from the Garden Gate,
Where I commanded my Servants to await
My coming back, and let none enter till
I came. I'll out and see what 'tis.
SCENE VII.
Enter Servants running, Clymias, Cleobulo after.
Ser.
Run, run Clymias.
Cly.
Whither?
1 Serv
No matter for that, but run, run I say.
Cly.
Wherefore?
1 Serv.
What, more Interrogations?
No matter for that neither;
But run, run as you will answer it.
Exit.
Cly.
Hurry, hurry, hurry; these fellows think
No business can be done, without noise and bussle;
And I must make a noise and bussling too,
[Page 17] They'l think me idle else. Whow, whow, whow, whow.
Runs up and down.
Enter Cleobulo.
Come, what hast you make now,
And all the house is in an uproar.
Cle.
Wherefore?
Cly.
Why, there's fighting yonder?
Cle.
That's the reason I make no more haste,
And where, can you tell?
Cly.
At the Garden Gate, they say.
Cle.
Then fast as I can, I'll run the other way:
Cly.
And I'll go out and see what 'tis.
Exit.
SCENE VIII.
The Prince and his followers pursued.
Beseech your Highness get
To your Apartment, we'll make good your Retreat.
[Exeunt the Prince, &c.
SCENE IX.
Calimachus and Palemon disguised, pursuing them.
Pal.
That was the Duke who first came out; but who
That other was, came next, I do not know▪
Nor those we fought with.
Cal.
But had they not gone so soon,
I'd search their hearts for it, or I had known.
And is this she, who in my absence sat
Like mourning Turtle, in absence of its mate!
[Page 18] All solitary and alone,
Who thus is visited by every one?
For this discovery, thanks to my disguise,
In which, I thought t▪have tane her by surprise,
To our greater joy, but now to my greater wo,
I'm more surpris'd my self to finde her so.
Pal.
Indeed 'tis passing strange!
Cal.
So strange, did I not see't
With these eyes of mine, I'd ne'er believed it.
Why this is right
Curtesan-like to have her Bravo [...]s fight,
Against strangers without, the whil'st within;
No Laias, nor no Phrino, e'er could be,
More visited by customers than she.
Pal.
Nay, now you go too far with your suspitions.
Cal.
I'll go farther yet;
None but your self knows of my coming home,
And I'm resolv'd still to remain unknown,
Till in some disguise,
I may not only get entrance into
The House, but even her very Bosom too.
Pal.
And I'll assist you, though I have no mind,
To your seeking that, you would be loath to find,
And hunting with your own curiosity,
Your own disquietness.
Cal.
No matter.
Come what will, I'm resolv'd to take my chance,
Of all evils, the worst is Ignorance.
Pal.
Well pray Heaven you do not find, say I,
Of all evils, the worst is Jelousie.
For Ignorance is a good dull disease,
That does not trouble much, nor much displease.
[Page 19] But Jealousie, as a Plummit or a Stone,
Makes thousand circles i'th' Water where 'tis thrown.
So when i'th' Brest, it once does entrance find,
Raises a thousand troubles in the mind.
Cal.
I know all this, and know besides that 'tis
Just like some steep, and dangerous Precipice.
Where t'is easier far, to keep from falling in,
Than once being faln, e'er to get out agen,
Then think me not so desperate mad, that I
Should throw my self into it willingly.
Pal.
I think not so, but do not know how far,
You may be engag'd in't, e'er you are aware.
But come, let us away,
For fear you be discover'd; if you stay;
That same disguise y'have on, each one may quite,
See thorough it, it is so thin and slight;
And less y'are wholly hid in your disguise,
It does but more attract your curious eyes,
Then till a more confiding one you get,
I will provide you of a safe retreat.
Exeunt.
ACT II.
SCENE II.
A Royal Garden with a Fountain, Aurindo.
Au.
Fle on these Men, these most deceitful Men,
Let never Woman, for my sake agen,
[Page 20] Trust any of them, for they all are false,
As is this Prince here;
And all glory in deceiving them, as he,
False as he is, does in deceiving me—
Here by this Fountain side, that seems to weep,
For pity of me, I'll lay me down and sleep.
If wearied Slaves, whose bodies are opprest
With heavy burdens, would be glad to rest;
Much more wou'd those, whose minds do bear about
A heavier weight within, than they without.
SCENE II.
A Song above, and the Dutchess in a Balcon, spying Aurindo sleeping.
Dutch
There does he sleep, there does he gently take
His rest, for whom I restlesly do wake.
Such was Narcissus, but this far more wise,
Coming to th' Fountain side, does shut his eyes,
And leaves the seeing his Beauty unto me,
That I might die for love of it, not he.
Fain would I find some way to hide my shame,
Whil'st I discover to him, my secret Flame;
Or else my Heart, wou'd all to Cinders turn,
For Fires more th'are conceal'd, the more they burn.
Aurindo, Aurindo.
Aur.
Ha! Who calls?
He starts up.
Dutch.
'Tis I, look up
Aur.
The Dutchess! Your pleasure Madam?
Dutch.
Look in that Fountain, see if thou can'st finde
[Page 21] The Portrait there, of one I clearly love.
Aur.
I can see none.
Dutch.
Thou can'st not be so blinde;
Look, look again, I see it hitherto,
And so, if thou hadst any eyes, might st thou,
The Fountain's shallow, the Water smooth and clear.
Aur.
I see nothing, but mine own shadow here?
Dutch.
And is that nothing fool?
I must come down my self, and help thee, or thou,
Wilt never find it out.
She descends.
Aur.
Ah, now I know
What Portrait 'tis she mean, though 'tis not fit,
(To save her sharm) that she shou'd know it yet;
And little does she know, how much she errs,
Since 'tis anothers Portrait, none of hers.
And would to Heaven, the owner of 'twould be,
As careful but to finde it out, as she.
[The Dutchess below.
Dutch.
If it were possible, I [...]ain would flie
This shamefac▪dness, and bashful modesty.
The shadow of the mind that follows us,
Just as the shadow of the Body does,
And 'tis alike impossible to chase
'T on from the Body, as 'tother from the face—
Well—yet have you found it out.
Aur.
No Madam, yet I have sought and sought—
I must fain Ignorance.
Aside.
Dutch.
Rather you wull
Not finde it, else you could not be so dull—
But you may let alone, the searching there
For th Portrait, now th'original is here—
Can you finde that out now?
Aur.
[Page 22]No Madam, not I.
Looks about.
Dutch.
Go too, I see by your blushing now you lie,
And run to my Chamber, fetch me but my Glass,
I'll prove you do, unto your very face.
Aur.
I know not what to do, nor what to say;
Wou'd either she, or I, were well away.
Dutch.
Why do'st not go? or if that seems too far,
Laok in mine eyes, and thou may'st see it there—
Pie, fie, for shame? this bashful Modesty
May be a Vertue in the Countrey.
'Mongst your Fools there: But 'tis a Vice in Court,
And a thing laught at, by your wiser sort.
Aur.
Would I could see
Some body coming to deliver me.
Dutch.
Why do st thou look about so? there's no fear
Any should see us, w'are in private here.
Aur.
And see in happy time,
The Duke comes yonder, and the Prince with him.
Never poor, fearful wretch, condemn▪d to die,
Was e'er so glad of his reprieve as I.
SCENE III.
The Duke, Prince, and after Cleanthes, Agenor, Cleora, Olinda, &c.
Dutch.
He, here now! When I have half past the shame,
And t'have it wholly to begin again?
Duke.
I do not like her being here alone
With th'Boy: But liberty of reprehension
[Page 23] Is wholly lost, when we our selves offend,
No less, than those whom we wou'd reprehend.
Dutch.
I must seem glad yet—My Lord, y'are welcome home,
But yet I wonder y'are return'd so soon;
For I'm mistaken, or, I heard you say
When you went forth, you meant to hunt to day.
Duke.
I did so, and the reason why I came
So soon again, is—I could finde no game.
Pr.
'Tis true indeed; and I went a hunting too,
But I could finde as little game as you.
Aside.
Clea.
See how the Ladies court Aurindo there.
Age.
Ay, they'll try what mettle he's made of, e'er
Th'have done with him.
Clea.
Marry Heaven defend, for then
They'll onely finde a counterfeit of him.
Aside.
Age.
These Beardless Boys, carry it clearly away now from
Us Bearded-men; and 'tis with kissing, as 'tis
With bowling; they love not rough Allies, for fear of rubs,
But on a smooth one they trundle it away.
Aside.
Dutch.
See, they may freely court Aurindo now,
A liberty to me they'll not allow.
Such is the happiness of mean estate,
And the unhappiness of being great.
Heavens hear my Prayer, Would they were great as I,
So I like them had but that liberty.
Duke.
Still eying the Boy! Agenor hark, do you
Observe Aurindo, and our Dutchess too;
And if you finde them together, let me know
Y'are wise, and understand me.
Age.
[Page 24]So now am I,
One of your busie Officers, call'd a Spie;
Who t'over see others, make such haste;
They commonly oversee themselves at last.
Dutch.
Well Cleora, what think you of Aurindo now?
Have you discover'd, whether he loves or no?
Cleo.
I see small signs of't Madam,
H'as so little courtship in him.
Dutch.
That rather does prove,
He loves for courtship, is no more sign of Love,
Than boasting is of Valor,—No without doubt?
He has some Mistress, if you could finde it out.
Cleo.
I'll try Madam,
And if I finde them together, I hope to have
As much pleasure at second hand, as they
Who look upon the Game, whil'st others play.
Clea.
Pray, who was this Dutchess? Before the Duke
In second Nuptials married her?
Age.
Why a Lady of noble Birth, and Parentage,
Whom he made choice of in's declining age,
Cheifly for that Beauty, that's but the outward skin,
O'th' better Beauty, Ladies shou'd have within.
But why d'ye ask?
Clea.
Because, me thinks I see,
But little love and familiarity
Betwixt them now.
Age.
O Sir, you must know,
Beauty, is just like Sweet-Meats, which before
W'have tasted of, nothing we long for more.
[Page 25] But after a while 'tis tasted and enjoy'd,
There's nothing, with the which, w'are sooner cloy'd,
Then, with those are married, 'tis a thing,
Whose fire's become so dull and languishing.
As th'words of marriage were a charm against it,
It looses all its force i'th' married Brest,
And's Ice to them, that's Fire to all the rest.
SCENE IV.
Palemon, the Duke, &c.
He kisses the Dukes hands.
Duke.
Palemon welcome, welcome brave Soldier,
But where's Calimachus, that I see him not here?
You and he are inseparable, I know,
And like th'Twin-Stars, always together go.
Pal.
Your Highness will in these his Letters finde,
The reason why, as yet he stays behinde.
Duke.
'Tis well, and how does he?
Pal.
As he always does,
When to the Harvest of the War he goes,
Reaping you Victories which the Wars now done,
He's binding up in Sheaves, to bring you home.
Duke.
And he deserves, after his glorious pain,
In Car of Triumph, to return again.
And Princes when they thus, bring Conquerors home,
Make thousand Soldiers, by rewarding one—
Well, have you visited Emilia yet?
Pal.
Not yet my Lord, but now my next charge is,
To visit her, and from him tell her this;
[Page 26] 'Tis not his pleasure, that she shou'd live here,
Whil'st he's away, as if she prisoner were:
And he'd have her, and all the world to know,
'Tis far from his desire, she shou'd do so.
Duke.
He's wife in it, and shews that he is free,
From th' greatest Plague of Marriage, Jealousie,
That bitters all the sweets, where e'er't does come
O'th' married life, and makes it waited on
by Furies, 'stead of Graces; and instead
Of Roses, strows with Thorns the Marriage-Bed—
Well, go commend me to her, tell her we
Will visit her shortly, now w'have liberty
Given us by Calimacbus, mean while
Somewhat by way of Triumph we'll prepare,
For honoring him, and for diverting her—
Madam, your hand here, and yours too my son,
To bid noble Palemon welcome home.
Dutch.
Welcome.
Pr.
Most welcome.
[He presents him to kiss their hands.
Exeunt.
Manet Palemon.
Pal.
This was Calimachus plot, though unto me
It seems but a strange piece of policy,
To finde out those who visited her before,
T'expose her to be visited by more;
And for the heightning of his Jealousie,
May be of dangerous consequence in time.
But he is one, there's no resisting him
So obstinate in his ways, he▪s like the wind,
More violent, more resistance he does find▪
But let him take his course a while, and then
[Page 27] His violence ceases, and he's calm again.
Where are you there?
Palemons Lodging.
SCENE V.
Calimachus like an Ethiope, &c.
Cal.
Well, have you done as I desir'd you?
Pal.
Yes.
And all things have succeeded to your wish.
Ne'er fear it, she'll have visitants enow,
For as by th' Duke himself I understand,
They have a Courtly Mask for her in hand.
Cal.
'Tis very well, and since they needs will go
A Masking, I've a Mask here for them too.
And how d ye like me? Am I enough disguised?
[Points to his face.
Pal.
Disguis'd!
Y'are wholly chang'd, and are your self no more,
Even I who know you, doubt if it be you.
And were you but chang'd within, as y'are without,
Even you your self would doubt,
If 'twere your self or no.
Cal.
And for disguising of my inside too,
That nothing may discover me by my tongue,
I mean to fain my self both deaf and dumb.
So in my presence, she will never fear,
To speak what she'd not have me tell, nor hear;
So shall I walk invisible, and be
I'th' dark to her, and she i'th' light to me.
Pal.
Your transformation is so strange and new,
Proteus himself might learn the art from you.
But hark! I hear some coming.
Cal.
[Page 28]If't be she,
Present me to her as a present sent from me.
Pal.
I understand.
SCENE VI.
Emilia; Althea, Calimachus, Palemon.
Em.
What rumor's this I hear flies up and down,
My Lord, and's friend Palemon are in town?
Alt.
Perhaps it comes from th'lie I made to day,
And if't shou'd prove true now, you needs must say,
I've good luck with lying.
Em.
I think 'tis true indeed,
For behold Palemon here!
Alt.
'Tis he indeed!
Em.
Palemon welcome,
Welcome as Aurora Messenger of Light,
To those 'have suffer'd a long tedious night.
But where's my Lord!
Pal.
Madam, he stays behinde,
And will be strait ways here.
Em.
He is unkind
To stay so long, knowing whil'st he's from home,
I m just like Flowers in absence of the Sun,
Who wanting his comfortable light, do mourn,
Languish, and pine away till his return,
He's well I hope.
Pal.
As well Madam, as he,
Wanting your comfortable sight can be,
As by these Letters you will understand
From his, directed to your fairer hand.
[She kisses them.
Em.
[Page 29]Al's welcome comes from him, but much móre he,
Wou'd he but come himself, shou'd welcome be▪
You'll give me leave to read them—
Our chiefes: comfort in absence,
When wanting sight of those we love the best,
By help of these we hear of them at least.
Alt.
My Lord, y'are most welcome home.
Pal.
Thanks good Althea, and I'm to thank you from my Lord
For your care of my Lady in's absence, which he'll reward,
Assure your self when he returns.
Alt.
Did he but know indeed, what care
I've had of her—He'd hang me for't I fear.
Aside.
Em.
He writes me here, it is his pleasure I,
More freely shoud converse with company.
And if this be hisminde, I know not what
To think of't, but'tis strangly chang'd of late!
Pal.
You may see by't, Madam, the care
He has, least your solitude shou'd impair
Your health.
Em.
Well, I shall obey, since he would have it so.
Cal.
Ay, and that most willingly I know.
Aside.
Em.
He writes besides of a present has sent me too.
Pal.
He has, Madam, and 'tis this Ethiope, who
No more can change colour (he says) than he
Can change his love, and his affection t'ye.
Em.
And as a pledge of that,
I shall preserve him carefully, and what
Qualities has he?
Pal.
He's valiant above a Man▪
[Page 30] And faithful as Angel Guardians, though he can,
Nor speak, nor hear.
Em.
How d'ye understand him then.
Pal.
By signs onely, the language of the dumb,
As you shall see.
[He makes signs to him pointing towards her, and he humbly bows and lifts up his hands to Heaven.
Em.
What means he now?
Pal.
By these his humble actions you may see,
He dedicates himself, and service t'ye
And now he vows to Heaven, with up lift hands
Perpetual obedience to your commands.
Alt.
He's very devout, I see that
By the lifting up the white of's eyes sc.
[He draws his sword, in action of fighting, then sets it to his Brest.
Em.
And now!
Pal.
By these more martial actions he does show,
That he'll not onely fight,
But die for you.
Alt.
I was afraid, he would have kill'd us all.
Em.
We like him well, let him be always near us;
Nor can we make
Too much of him, for his dear Masters sake—
And how does he? he has received, I hope,
No wounds i'th' Wars?
Pal.
None, Madam, but such, whose honorable scars
In soldiers manly faces, we behold,
Shew just like precious Jewels set in Gold.
Em.
I know him, and his love too well, to fear
He shou'd have got any new Mistress there.
Cal.
[Page 31]Would he knew yours so well, he might not fear,
You shou'd have got any new gallants here.
Aside.
Em.
Come let me here
More of my Lord, I pray,
For next to highest joy, 'tis a degree
To talk, at least, of those we long to see.
Alt.
Deaf and dumb▪ Pretty qualities,
If one knew what they were good for.
Let me see for's dumbness I like that well enough,
He can't tell tales, and for's deafness 'tis no great matter;
For men naturally understand what women would have with them
Then for his colour, all men are black in th'dark they say, and I
May have curiosity, one of these nights to try.
Exit.
Cly.
Why, what a fellow servant has our Lord sent us here,
One deaf and dumb? what shall we do with him?
Cle.
Why, we'll be sure to put all the work of the house upon him,
Let him put it off agen as well as he can.
Cal.
Ay, will you so, I'm glad I know it.
Aside.
Cly.
But will he do't d'ye think? he seems a sturdy piece.
Cle.
I'll make him do't I'll warrant you for all his sturdiness.
Cal.
And I'll try that.
Aside▪
Cle.
Best is, let us use him never so ill,
He can't tell our Lady of it.
Cal.
[Page 32]But your Lord will know of't though,
And that's as good.
Aside.
Enter Althea.
Alt.
Madam, the Duke and all the Court is here.
Pal.
Pray then, Madam, put off your vail,
And put on a chearful countenance, you know
'Tis my Lords will and pleasure you should do so.
Em.
I shall endeavor it, though 'tis a way that I shall hardly counterfeit I fear,
T'have heart and face in several habits clad,
And outside chearful, whil'st my inside's sad.
Cal.
Now had I as many eyes,
As Argus, I should need them all for spies.
SCENE VI.
The Duke, Prince, Dutchess, and all the Court after.
Duke.
Behold, Madam.
Since you'll not come to Court,
The Court is come to you.
Duke.
They too much honor me.
Em.
That cannot be,
Though we shou'd build Altars, and Temples t'ye,
For there's no honor underneath the skie,
That is, for Beauty too sublime and high;
And there's but one Land does adore the Sun,
But Beauty is ador'd by every one.
Cal.
Complements, Complements! Ear-Lechery at least,
And I expect e'er long to see the rest.
Aside.
Here the rest enter.
Dutch.
[Page 33]Dear Emilia, I am most glad to see ye,
And in our Sexes name must quarrel w'ye,
That having so much Vertue in you, you
Shou'd keep it so conceal'd as you do.
Em.
Madam, if I have any Vertue▪ 'tis
Onely th'admiring of your Highnesses,
And but to come near that, is a degree
Of a most high inferiority.
Duke.
Nay then we shall ne'er have done, if you
Ladies, do fall a complementing too,
And I must take her from you, I perceive
And keep you 'sunder, or you'll never leave.
Aside▪
Pr.
I long'd until I came, but now I'm here,
I know not with what face to look on her.
T'attempt and fail, to ask and be deni'd,▪
Is such a shame, no Prince can e'er abide.
Age.
Do but observe there, how the Prince and Duke,
With jealous eyes, one upon t'other look.
Then both upon Emilia, whil'st she
On neither looks, on t'other side then, see
How th' Dutchess there does furtive looks convey
Unto Aurindo, who looks another way,
Towards the Prince, and in so great a press,
You ne'er saw Eyes speak more, nor Tongue speak less.
Cleo.
That shews their love's not mutual, for we delight to look on those we love.
And where aversion of the Eyes you finde,
There's no great inclination of the minde.
Duke.
Come let the Mask begin, and Musick play,
This is your Lord Calimachus's day:
[Page 34] And you, Madam, being Lady of the Feast,
Every one here, is your invited guest.
You then are to do honor of the place,
And there is none, can do't with better grace.
Come sit you by us—Nay it must be so,
Our Dutchess, and our Son, their places know.
Pr.
If every one aright, their places knew,
That place were fitter far for me, than you.
Aside.
Loud Musick, and the Mask begins.
First, the Spirit of Rebellion, in Fuliginous Armor, with its Sword drawn, rises from Hell and sings, as follows in a Base voice.
Reb.
From th' Abbiss of deepest Hell,
Where Rebellious Spirits dwell,
I'm come to Earth with usual charms,
To stir these Atticks up to arms.
Liberty, Liberty.
Waves his Sword.
Who wou▪d be slaves that might be free?
Rowse up your selves, take arms, and courage then,
Beasts serve not Beasts, and why shou'd Men serve Men?
Here the Atticks rise, and in their first dance represent the beginning's of Rebellion, &c. Which ended, Rebellion sings again.
Reb.
Now, as you bravely have begun,
Y'are as bravely to go on.
There's no remedy now but War,
You can't be guiltier than you are.
Liberty, Liberty, &c.
Ʋt supra.
[Page 35] Here the better genius of Kingdoms appears in the Air, Angel-like, and sings as follows in a Treble Voices.
Gen.
Cease Rebellious Spirit, cease,
And leave the World, and Men in peace.
Reb.
Who's that commands there? As if they
Cou'd make Rebellion obey?
Gen.
'Tis I, who cast thee down to Hell,
When thou in Heaven didst first Rebel,
And since pursue thee every where,
When thou rebell'st, as well as there.
Reb.
Thy power in Heaven, I must allow,
But l've on Earth as great as thou,
Where Men i'th' middle Region dwell,
Confining betwixt Heaven and Hell.
Gen.
Alarm, Alarm, and let us try,
Who has most power, thou or I;
And who more Spirits at Command,
To save, or to destroy a Land.
Both.
Alarm, Alarm.
Here the Atticks dance their second dance, representing a Battle, with various success, till one personating Calimachus, descends suddenly in Thunder and Lightning▪ and discipates them all, When the Scene changes; and he is represented in a Triumphant Chariot with Victory crowning him, the Chorus singing, answered by Victory.
Cho.
Io Triumphe, Io Triumphe, &c.
Vict.
[Page 36]Victoria, Victoria.
And joy to th'fair Emilia,
Whose noble Lord has overcome,
And now in Triumph's coming home:
Never did any, more than he,
Deserve the Crown of Victory.
Victoria, Victoria, &c.
Cho.
Io Triumphe, Io Triumphe, &c.
Vict.
Victoria, Victoria,
And joy to th'fair Emilia.
Micena now, will scarce have place
To hold the Trophies, that he has,
And's glorious Actions to proclaim,
Wou'd weary all the Tongues of Fame.
Victoria, Victoria,
And joy to th'fair Emilia.
Cho.
Victoria, Victoria, &c.
Io Triumphe, Io Triumphe, &c.
The end of the Mask.
Duk.
Thus in representing your Lords Victories, and Triumph,
I fear w'have tyr'd you our, wherefore we'll give
You no more trouble now, but take our leave.
Em.
For th'honor your Highness to my Lord has done,
He best can thank you at his coming home;
For what y'have done to me, I know no way
But onely with my blushes to repay.
Duke.
Those as superfluons you may let alone,
Blushes suppose some fault, but you have none.
Dutch
Farewel dear Emilia, and pray let's see you oftner at Court.
[Page 37] Remember you, and all fair things were made
To appear i'th' light, and not lie hid i'th' shade.
Duke.
Come son, come you away,
And don't trouble her with your longer stay.
[Spies the Prince addressing himself unto her.
Pr.
Betwixt her, and my Fathers Jealousie,
Tantalus in Hell was ne'er more plagu'd than I.
[Exeunt.
Em.
I'm glad th'are gone, for all their sights to day
Do onely shew me that my Lord's away.
As seeing Painted Meats does onely serve,
With greater pomp to shew us how we sterve.
Exit.
Manent Calimachus and Palemon.
Pal.
Well, hitherto, I hope, you see,
Y'ave no great reason for your jealousie.
Cal.
Hitherto I've no occasion to know,
Where I have any reason for't or no:
In publick all are modest, when alone,
Then chiefly their immodesties are shown.
Besides you know, when Gins and Snares we lay▪
We expect not presently to take the prey;
But give them time to come, and so will I,
Mean while, the snare is laid, and so't shall lie.
Exeunt.
ACT III.
SCENE I.
The Princes Apartment.
The Prince, Aurindo.
Aur.
IT grieves me to see him so sad and pensive, and I'd fain comfort him, if I could—
Pray my Lord, if it may not seem in me,
Too great Presumption, and curiosity,
Why are you so sad and pensive?
Pr.
Alas! If I should tell thee, th'art too young
I know to understand me when I'd done
'Tis Love, Love Boy, that causes my unrest,
Gentle-Companion of every Noble Brest!
Aur.
Ungentle rather, if it molest you so—
And who is't you love, my Lord? If I may know?
Pr.
Who?—But the fairest every way
Of all her sex, the bright Emilia;
She who surpasses all Beauties else, as far
As th'Sun the Moon, or Moon each lesser Star.
Aur.
Indeed, I have heard that she's,
All that to Beauty, Beauty to others is,
Of Grace and Ornament, and what's yet more rare,
That she is full, as vertuous, as fair.
Pr.
[Page 39]I wou'd she were not, Vertue's a thing we wish▪
Unto our Wives, not to our Mistresses.
'Tis enough for them, that they be kinde and fair,
All other Vertues, but superfluous are.
Aur.
And pray, my Lord, does she hearken to your suit?
Pr.
Oh no Aurindo, but is as deaf unto't,
As Ʋlysses was unto
The Syrens voice, 'gainst which he stopt his ear,
And none hear worse, than those who will not hear.
Aur.
That is some comfort yet, and Heaven I see
Punishes him, for's falshood unto me.
Aside.
Pr.
But, by all signs
And symptons of Love, and Lovers, as every thing
They say or do, heavy, and languishing,
With frequent sighs and tears, I should suspect
Thou wer't in love too Boy; now I reflect
Upon it better?
Aur.
Who I?
I can assure your Highness, I ne'er knew,
Other love yet, but onely love of you.
Pr.
Thanks gentle Boy, I have experienc'd thee,
Loving and faithful indeed, and thou shalt see
I will reward thee for it; mean time,
Since I have trusted thee, so far, to let
Thee know my love, I'll trust thee farther yet,
Thou shalt go plead for me to her.
Aur.
Alas, for that
I fear I shall make but a sorry Advocate—
Besides, how shall I come to speak with her?
Pr.
For that, Althea will help thee, never fear.
Give her but this from me; go prithy, go then.
[Page 40] Tell her how much I love her; nay, what's more,
Tell her how much I reverence, yea, adore
Her, doest hear?
Thou—hast a powerful tongue I know,
And such an one, it is impossible to
Resist: Go then, and if thou prevail'st with her,
Never was Boy unto his Lord more dear.
Exit.
Manet Aurindo.
Aur.
O cruel employment! to be made instrument
Of mine own undoing? And not onely confident
Of's love unto my rival, but Advocate too,
To plead for't 'gainst my self? What shall I do?
But what a question's that?
Those who deliberate,
Have some will of their own,
But I have none.
With resolution then,
Great as my Love, I'll go and plead for him.
And if my Tongue refuse, or Heart repine,
I'll never more acknowledge them to be mine.
Exit.
SCENE II.
Cleanthes, Aurindo.
Cle.
O Madam? I've been seeking all o'er the Court
For you, and have business wi'ye of great import.
Aur.
Well—For this time you may keep it still,
Be the importance of it, what it will,
I have no time to hear it.
Cle.
[Page 41]'Tis of no less
Concern, than your whole Countreys happiness.
Aur.
Well—be it so,
I've business yet of greater concernment now.
Cle.
What? than your State and Countrey?
Aur.
And even Life too▪
As whosoever truly loves does know.
Cle.
Pardon me, Madam, if I tell you then, that you
Too much neglect your self, and Countrey too;
And all Relations have too much forgot,
For love of this false Prince, who loves you not.
Aur.
No more,
I charge you on your life, or I shall count you an enemy,
Not onely unto him, but unto me.
Keep such reproachful words for those I hate,
He is not false, but I unfortunate.
And shou'd he not onely hate me, but even kill
Me too, I ne'er should cease to love him still.
Cle.
O great
And unparalel'd Love in her, as 'tis in him
As great and unparalel'd Ingratitude agen!
Aur.
So go,
And be assured, who tru'y loves does know,
No pleasure, no contentment is above
Delight we take, in suffering for those we love.
Exit.
Manet Cleanthes.
Cle.
What great delight there is, I do not know
In Suffering and Martyrdom, but this I do.
[Page 42] No Tyrant e'er invented greater pain,
Than 'tis to love, and not be lov'd again.
Which he but onely dully imitated,
Who bound a living body to a dead.
[The Duke passes on the Stage.
But see where th' Duke does unattended go,
And I could tell whither he's going too;
But I'll let that alone—
For faults of Princes, like sore Eyes become,
But worse with handling▪
And 'twere a sawcy, and bold Tongue should dare,
To touch their faults, whose Persons sacred are.
SCENE III.
Emiliaes Pallace.
The Duke, Calimachus.
Exit Cleanthes.
Duke.
I am resolv'd
To dally no longer with her, they deny
Themselves, who ask faintly and cowardly,
And 'tis for lesser people, but your great
Princes are to command, and not intreat—
First then I will endeavor to
Gain her by gentleness, and if that wo'nt do
Iust as Physitians, when one Remedy
Wo'nt do, apply the contrary, so will I.
Cal.
So—Now he's come,
I wo'nt be deaf at least, though I'll be dumb.
Aside.
Duke.
[Page 43]As for her honor, she thinks she's so oblig'd
To guard, what i'st! but like a Fort besieg'd,
Where 'tis no shame to yield unto the stronger,
And render't up, when't can hold out no longer.
SCENE IV.
Emilia, Althea, &c.
See here she comes—First
I'll strive to infect her with poyson of Jealousie,
Which taken in at the Ear,
Presently flies
Unto the heart, when love grows cold and dies,
It shall be so—
Alt.
So now I've brought them together
Like a true Waiting-woman, I ll go
Into another room, and leave them so.
Exit.
Duke.
Madam, although 't has hitherto been my use
Never to bring you none but welcome news;
Yet now I'm come to bring you such I fear,
As may not be so welcome t'ye to hear.
Em.
What's that my Lord?
Duke.
I'll tell you—But first I pray,
For greater secresie send that Moor away.
Em.
For him, my Lord, he's one you need not fear,
Both deaf and dumb, and cannot speak nor hear.
Duke.
But he can see though.
Em.
What although he can?
I'll do nothing, but what he, or any man
May see,
Cal.
[Page 44]Hum, I like that answer well,
And may perchance be deceiv'd in her; who can tell?
Duke.
Well then—Know, that whil'st your Lords away,
H▪has got another Mistress in Attica,
Whose bosom he warms with's hot embraces there,
Whil'st poor Emilia in her cold Bed freezes here.
Cal.
What will she say to this?
Em.
My Lord, I know
They falsly lied▪ whoever told you so;
And wrong him, wrong him most injuriously,
Faith, Truth it self, wou'd sooner be false than he▪
Cal.
Mine own dear wife! Now I cleerly see,
I was deceived in her.
Duke.
Alas, poor Lady, how y▪are deceiv'd? I pray
What else makes him tarry so long away?
Em.
If that be all, you may say as well, that Gold
By the Touchstone, shou'd be rendred false, or Men
Guilty, by trying their Innocence agen.
For so Absence is but
Touchstone▪ and tryal of Love; by which we know,
Where those we love, be true unto's▪ or no.
Cal.
Mine own dear wife still! What a Villain was I,
Ever to suspect her!
Duke.
Nay then—I have no more to say,
But if you'll needs be deceived by him, you may.
Had you not better
Deal by him rather, as he does by you.
And in the same
Coyn he pays you, to pay him back again?
Em.
[Page 45]Under these Flowers, I knew some Serpent lay,
Which now by its poyson, does it self betray:
And little for me had Honor and Vertue done,
If now I know it, its poyson I could not shun.
Duke.
Nay, tarry Lady, and before you go,
Without more circumstance I'd have you know,
I must and will enjoy you.
Cal.
Will you so?
Duke.
And though I would not use force, I confess,
Might I obtain your Love by Gentleness,
Yet if you force me to't—
Em.
Stay my Lord—And now you talk of force,
Pardon me, Woman-kinde▪ if I confess
Poor Womens frailties, and their weaknesses;
Who are just like Towns, weak and unfortified,
Unable Force and Violence to abide,
Or Yaugs and Pleasure-Boats, that strait are lost,
When they on Rude and Boysterous Seas are tost.
No wonder then, they neither can withstand,
Danger of storms at Sea, nor force on Land.
Duke.
True, Lady, you understand aright,
How weak you are, and are excused by't.
Cal.
But I shall ne'er excuse her.
Em.
And now l've gone so far,▪ I will confess
Their Mindes, as well as Bodies weaknesses;
For Vertue and Honor in them,
Are not the same things, as they are in men.
But all their strength is in Infirmity,
Their Honor is but fear of Infamy.
[Page 46] Vertue, but fear of Vice, and they'd be glad
Their Actions shou'd by Force, be lawful made.
For 'tis th'unlawfulness they fear alone,
And Force makes all things lawful, where't does come.
Cal.
O shameful confession?
Em.
And now, my Lord, having thus much confess'd,
How frail and weak we are, 'tdoes onely rest,
I throw my self into your arms to hide,
Those blushes I▪m asham'd should be espied.
[She snatches out his Punyard, instead of embracing him.
Duke.
Ha! What's this?
Cal.
I was afraid
She would have yielded.
Duke.
What mean you Lady!
Em.
You said
You wou▪d not force me, and now you shall not Sir,
Here's that from Force, shall render me secure—
Tell me of Force▪ Know, shou'd you offer it,
I'd sooner die, than e'er I'd suffer it.
Cal.
Mine own dear wife again▪
Duke.
You wo'nt turn Lucrece?
Em.
No, but I'll keep you
From turning Tarquin.
Cal.
And so shall this here too.
Draws.
Duke.
You shew your courage now, but I shou'd shew
But little, to be frighted with what you do.
Em.
Forbear, my Lord, as you love my life forbear,
As you love your own life do: See you not there
[Page 47] That valiant Moor does threatning of you, stand
With Terror in his look, and Death in's hand.
Duke.
Ha!—The Vilain's looks are grim
And terrible indeed, and I'm afraid of him—!
Well Lady,
What I have done, I onely did to try
Your Faith unto your Lord, and Constancy:
But what you've done, I do so ill resent,
As I shall shortly make you to repent,
And understand too▪ that I was not born
A Prince, to be made subject unto scorn.
Exit.
Em.
I'm glad he's gone, and for the timely aid
Of this brave Moor, were Calimachus but dead,
(As Heaven defend) I easily shou'd believe
The genius of's dead Lord, in him did live—
Enter Althea.
Come, where are you? You must be always leaving me here alone,
Either wait closer, or I'll provide me of one
That shall assure your self—Look to't.
Exit.
Alt.
Ay say you so? Then 'tis time to look to't indeed, and you
For venomous spight, shall finde too e'er I've done,
A Woman threatn'd is a Aspick trod upon.
Exit.
Manet Calimachus.
Cal.
Where's this Palemon? I'm great with Joy, and long
To be deliver'd of it, would he wou'd come:
For as by Communication, Griefs grow less,
So Joy and Gladness does as much increase.
SCENE V.
Clymias, Cleobulo, Calimachus▪ Palemon after.
Cle.
Oh have we found you? Must you be loit'ring here,
And leave us all the work to do without? Come your ways and be hang'd.
Cly.
You are like your Fellow Baboons it seems,
Who wo'nt speak, because they will not work,
But 'tshall not serve your turn—Get you gone I say.
Shoves him, and he kicks him▪
O horrible Insolence! Was ever seen the like?
Cle.
Indeed Fellow, Clymias has made somewhat bold with you
Behinde, I must confess; and having begun on the windy side of you,
May chance come about, just in your Face at last.
Cly.
For new comers, to have no more respect and reverence
To old Officers of the House! and Principal Officers too.
Grooms of the Chamber, who by their office do'nt
Go in querpo onely to be kickt I hope.
Enter Palemon.
Cle.
There's no talking to him; but here comes my Lord Palemon,
Best complain to him.
Cly.
Marry, and will, my Lord, the Moor hear his Grown
[Page 49] So insolent to kick and abuse us, for onely off'ring to make him work.
Pal.
He serv'd you well enough, for what have you to do with him,
Who are onely to look after the Fire and Lights,
And now and then the Broom?
Cly.
My Lord, you know w'are officers above stairs,
Pal.
Ay—to be kickt down, if you grow insolent.
High officers indeed, Commanders of the Coal-Basket and under Fewellers,
Superintendants of the Tongs and Fire shovel,
Snuffers and Candlesticks.
Cle.
We are well holp up
To complain to him.
Pal.
And does the Vails of your office, as Coals, droppings of Wax,
And Candles-ends, make you so proud as to offer
To compare with him!
Cly.
Ha day! he'll make him
Our Master shortly!
Enter Calimachus.
Pal.
Go, get you gone, and know
Y'are no companions for him, nor he for you.
Cle.
Come, we'd best be gone,
For he's too well seconded now;
But if we catch him alone,
We'll make him pay for this.
Wou'd he'd but offer to kick me once, you shou'd see
How I'd handle him.
Exeunt.
Cle.
O Friend, I long'd to meet with you▪
Pal.
Wherefore!
Cle.
To tell you that I'm o'er joy'd.
Pal.
With what?
Cle.
For I'm confirm'd at last,
That my Emiliae is as pure and chaste,
As Ice or Chrystal,
And Ermin on the Snow,
In all their ways, cou'd not more purer go.
Pal.
I told you so, and you'd not believe me.
Well, and what are you resolv'd to do now?
Cal.
What? but go and discover my self unto her straight.
What extasie will there be? What Ravishment?
Joy 'bove all joys, Content ▪bove all content:
I'm extasied and ravish'd, with the very thought
Of it already!—But stay, who have we hear?
More Visitants?
SCENE VI.
Aurindo meeting Althea, &c.
Aur.
Althea, well met, I was just a seeking you.
Alt.
And I'm glad of it; for I was just a thinking of you.
And what service can I do you now?
Aur.
Onely I desire
You'd help me to the speech of your Lady.
Alt.
Marry come up here,
Will no body, but my Lady, serve your turn?
[Page 51] And am not I good enough for you, I pray?
Aur.
Mistake me not good Althea,
I'd onely speak with her from my Lord the Prince,
Who remembers him t'ye by this.
A t.
Cry mercy—A noble Prince he is,
And liberal withal I'll say that for him,
And he's just of my minde for this.
Money's like muck, that's profitable while
'Tis spred abroad, and does inrich a soil.
But when tis kept and hoarded up, methinks,
'Tis just like a Dunghil that lies still and stinks—
Well, last time he was here with my Lady,
He was in a mighty fright, so were we all,
He shou'd have been discover'd.
Cal.
D'ye hear! How sh'has been visited?
Alt.
And did, my Lord, but know what pains I take
To bring him and my Lady together—
Cal.
He knows it, thou damn'd Baud,
And thou shalt know he does too.
Aside.
Alt.
Well, for your Lords sake, I'll do you all the service I can,
In bringing you to my Lady; and as for you,
Although I've partly made a vow,
Never to marry, yet I do not know
How I shou'd be tempted, shou'd you offer to marry me.
Aur.
But I'll promise you
I'll never tempt you,
Aside.
Though, for my Lord's sake, I must flatter her—
And dear Althea, if ever I marry any woman,
I'll promise you, it shall be you.
Alt.
[Page 52]Why gra-mercy for that yet: and on that condition
I'll bring you to my Lady—
This comforts me to the very heart now.
Exeunt.
Manent Calimachus and Palemon.
Cal.
Why now am I like one
Who had at Sea newly escap'd one storm,
And even arriv'd unto the Haven, when
Bv an other he's strait hurried to Sea agen—
The Prince visit her too!
Pal.
So did the Duke you see,
Yet had no reason for your jealousie,
That Thorn at least you are delivered from:
Cal.
Ay—But what avails it one
Has many pricks him, for easing of his pain,
To have one pluck'd and all the rest remain?
Pal.
Consider besides too—
Cal.
Talk to me no more,
I'm more jealous than e'er I was before;
And see, 'tis the general corruption of them all,
E'er since their Mother, the first womans fall,
And eating fruit of the forbidding Tree;
To long for things forbidden, as well as she.
Exit.
Manet Palemon.
Pal.
Well, I never was married;
And where I ever shall, I cannot tell.
But if this be the fate of marriage, to be in Hell;
Of loathing, if's wife be fow!; and if fair, to be▪
In Purgatory of Jealousie. Marry who's list for me.
Alt.
So I've brought him to my Lady, and she
Was nothing so much offended, as I thought she'd be.
Whence I conceive.
She may be tempted with handsome Boys, as well as I,
And all her simp'ring is but Hipocrisie—
SCENE VII.
The Dutchess, Cleora, Althea.
The Dutchess! What does she here I wonder!
Dutch.
Art sure he's gone to Emiliaes?
Cle.
Most certain, Madam,
And Althea had the introducing him.
Alt.
What's this?
Dutch.
Why then I see
'Tis to Emilia he's goes, when he makes such hast from me.
Alt.
She has heard it seems
Of the Dukes visiting my Lady.
Dutch.
I told you he had
Some Mistress to whom he his addresses made,
And Spring without Flowers, Autumn without Fruit you'll finde
Sooner, than without Love a youthful minde—
And Althea must be his Baud too
That Witch, that old Hag—go seek her out and bring
Her to me presently, I'll make her confess
Their secret Meetings or Tortures shall express it from her.
Alt.
[Page 54]I'd best confess e'er she puts me to the Rack,
I don't know how my bones will hold out, beshrew me.
And I should be loath to try.
C.e.
See, Madam, she's here.
Alt.
Indeed an't please your Highness, I must confess
He visits my Lady sometimès.
[Speaks fearfully.
Dutch.
O does he so!
Alt.
But 'tis against my will,
And against my Ladies too, I'll say that for her,
Dutch.
Worse and Worse.
I could easily pardon
His preferring her love to mine, but to prefer
Her hate, or, what's as bad, Indifferency
Unto my love is such an Indignity
I never shall forgive.
SCENE VIII.
The Duke, Agenor, &c.
Duke
Gone after the Boy say you?
Age▪
I can assure your Highness.
Duke.
Why this is fine,
Has she no more care of her honor nor mine▪
But she must run
Rambling and gadding after every one.
But is not that she there?
Dutch.
Why now
Emilia is his Mistress, I see,
And her he follows, when he flies from me.
Duke.
How comes she to know that I wonder?
[Page 55] This is a new business, and I who thought
For to catch her here—Now my self am caught.
Dutch.
The Duke▪ 'Tis strange to see him here?
Duke.
I'd best make no secret, then of what she knows already.
Least she imagine there's some farther secret in't
Then what she knows—Madam, 'tis true
I visit Emilia sometimes, but 'tis onely to
Comfort her in absence of her Lord.
Dutch.
How's this?
This as a discovery I look'd not for—
'Tis well, my Lord, y'are very charitable grown,
To visit Ladies when their Husbands are from home,
Though you'd scarce think it Charity in us.
Should we visit other Ladies Husbands thus—
I'faith, I'faith,
Is this your hunting? I'm glad I know it,
But I must go seek out this Boy, who is so dear unto me,
As who ever wou'd deprive me of him,
As easily might take away
The Lions and the famish'd Tygers prey.
Exit.
Duke.
She's angry I see
At my visiting Emilia, so let her be.
And if she raise a storm with Emilia's name,
I with Aurindo's can lay it strait again—
And now I may be more free and bold,
For your great spirits when th'are once control'd,
'Stead of amending their faults, be come but more
Bold and audacious, than they were before.
Exit.
[Page 56] Manet Althea.
Alt.
I'm glad th'are gone, and I safe here,
The Dutchess threatnings put me in mighty fear:
For her calling me Witch and Bawd, ▪twas no great matter, because
Perhaps it was not without some desert.
But her calling me old Hag, went to my very heart.
SCENE IX.
Emilia, Aurindo, Calimachus, Palemon, &c.
Cal.
Now let's observe them.
Em,
Prethee good Boy no more,
Pitty so much handsomeness, shou'd be
So unhandsomely employ'd,
And so much good language cast away, upon
So bad a cause—Sure Boy
Thy Master loves thee not, that he would employ
Thee, in so base an office no Catchpoles, nor
No Common-Hangmans, ever cou'd be more—
A Bawd, a Pander!
Alt.
Um! The office is a good office, and no dispraise
To any, an honorable one nowadays.
Aside.
Em.
No Boy—So much I love thee—
Cal.
Mark that.
Em.
As finde out somewhat herein I may do thee good,
W d I shall gladly do't, but I shou'd do
An e harm by granting of this suit of thine,
The make thee guilty of an others crime.
And
Aur.
[Page 57]She instructs me vertuously, and somewhat here,
Seems to perswade me, that I need not fear
To discover my self and fortune to her, who knows
But she may be so nobly generous
To help me in my love.
Hinder me I'm sure she can't—I'll try
▪Tis but my blushes lost▪ at most, and I
Can never loose them more innocently than now▪
Madam, I shou'd desire to speak a word with you
In private.
Em.
With me! what is't?
Cal.
Now they've some secret to whisper.
Aur.
If ever Irena of Argos name
Had happiness, you shou'd hear it, I'm the same
Unfortunate Princess, witness that portrait there
In better times and fortune drawn for her.
Em.
How's this!
Cal.
What! taking presents? nay, then 'tis clear,
Sh'as sold her self, and he has purchas'd her:
For presents are
But Cupids Press-money, to serve him in his war,
But earnest of
A bargain, where she but sells her liberty;
And afterwards there's nothing she can deny.
Now she looks on's present, now on him,
As if she knew not which she did most esteem.
Em.
I'm fully satisfied, and doubt of it no more,
But ask your pardon, I knew you not before.
Aur.
No wonder, Madam, for I'm no more the same
Person I was, but have thang'd it with my name.
[Page 58] And never was so lost a creature as I, as you
I'm sure will say, when you my fortune know.
Cal.
Again at their whispering?
They have some secret now
To whisper again, none but themselves must know.
And I can't imagine what't should be,
But onely some plot or other to cuckold me—
Mean time th'are so close together, as if they were
Transfusing souls into each others ear;
And seem so well agreed, as she appears
Inform'd with his soul, he inform'd with hers—
Oh now they've done it seems.
Aur.
Thus, Madam, you see
How far your goodness has imbold'ned me,
To discover a secret tye, which I should still
Keep in my Brest, if it were possible.
Em.
And be assur'd, I'll keep it as secret here,
As if it still in your own bosome were,
And, wherein may I serve you?
Aur.
Onely, Madam, when the Prince next visits you,
You d shew him some kindness—That he
Mayn't think he sent me here unto you in vain,
And oft hereafter, may send me here again.
Em.
This, and what ever I may in honor do,
Assure your self, I'll gladly do for you.
And I do hope e'er long to let you see,
You not deceiv'd your self, in trusting me.
Cal.
See, she's ready to embrace him by Heaven!
Aur.
Your noble goodness, Madam, does take me so,
As I must needs embrace you e'er I go;
[Page 59] And these embraces here shall be a tye
To shew I'm bound unto you eternally.
SCENE X.
The Dutchess enters, and seeing them embracing starts back.
Cal.
By Heaven I'll kill them both.
[Offers to draw, Palemon closes with him, and leads him out.
Pal.
Fie, fye.
Em
When shall I see you again?
Aur.
'Soon as I can,
Assure your self.
Em.
Remember your promise then.
Exeunt several ways.
Manet Dutchess.
Dutchess.
Was ever greater impudence than this!
In publick thus for to embrace and kiss!
No Man, although with Lust, he were ne'er so hot,
Nor Woman ne'er so impudent, wou'd do't.
I am enrag'd at it, and now burn more
With hate▪ than e'er I did with love before,
And swear by Heaven, I'll be reveng'd on both—
For her—I hate and loath
Her now, worse than a Snake or Toad.
And for him, ungrateful as he is, seeing he would
Not have me for a Friend, I ll let him see
What 'tis to have me for an enemy.
Exit.
ACT IV.
SCENE I.
The Prince's Lodgings.
The Prince, Aurindo after.
Pr.
'WOnder Aurindo does not come away,
Nor know I what t'imagine of his stay.
But this I know,
That as his news is either good or bad,
I shall be happy, or unhappy made—
Enter Aurindo.
O Aurindo welcome,
Welcome a thousand times!
I have expected thee, just as Merchants do
Their Factors, who to some rich Countreys go
To fetch them Treasures home, and how, and how?
Thy looks are chearful, I hope thy news is so▪-
Aur.
Why, my Lord, at my first coming, I did find
Her beyond hope and expectation kinde.
Pr.
Good, excellent, and then!
Aur.
She was content
To hear me, and you know that's half consent.
Pr.
Better and better. Dear Aurindo, I see
Thou wer't born to make me happy.
Aur.
[Page 61]Pray Heaven I be.
Pr.
On, on I prithee.
Aur.
For th'rest I'll onely say,
You and your love are in so fair a way,
As there are those here in Micena, who
Love you, my Lord, and dearly love you too.
Pr.
And is it she?
Aur.
Let it suffice, 'tis one
Who does not yet desire for to be known:
But who it is, my Lord, you'll shortly know,
And be, I hope, happy i▪th' knowledge too.
Pr.
Nay then tis she, I know; for there is none
Can ever make me so, but she alone.
Aur.
Let all Maids see the falshood of these Men,
And learn from him, how th are deceiv'd by them.
[Aside.
Pr.
Ah dearest Aurindo, I cannot chuse,
But thus embrace thee for thy joyful news.
Aside.
Aur.
How joyful, and how happy should I be,
If these embraces were for love of me.
But all the stream of his affection
Does onely towards happy Emilia run;
And I'm but made the Channel, as it were,
Through which, he but conveys his love to her.
Pr.
On, prithee on, more of Emilia.
Aur.
My Lord, for th'present I've no more to say,
But onely, I hope next time you send me there,
To bring you yet more joyful news from her.
Pr.
And be assur'd, that suddenly shall be
I'th' mean time all my comfort is in thee.
Exit.
Aur.
And all my discomfort is in you alone—
They hear? Nay then tis time for to be gone,
SCENE II.
The Scene the Court.
Olinda, Cleora.
Oli.
Prithee tell me Cleora,
Wer't ever in love?
Cle.
Yes Faith once, and methought 'twas pretty sport;
But never so much as my Lady with Aurindo,
To sigh and sigh like a dry Pump,
Or broken winded Bellows,
Or leave my Meat, or loose my Sleep for it.
Oli.
Thou wer't the wiser; for indeed
'Tis not worth so much ado—
But is't not strange!
That loving him so much as she did, she now
Should hate him as much!
Cle
Not a whit, for your great persons
Like great Machins, have a violent swing,
Sways them to th'extremity in every thing.
Which is the reason th'are never moderate,
Nor in their Passions of Love nor Hate—
But is't not pretty she shou'd accuse him to the Duke,
For offering to ravish us?
Oli.
Wou'd he had I'faith,
He shou'd not have found it so hard a matter—
Had she said, we have been ready to ravish him
'I had been more likely.
Cle.
Fie, how thou talk'st! Art not asham'd?
Oli.
No shame at all,
[Page 63] For I'll prove it Women are more honest now,
And sin less, than they did in former times.
Cle.
How so?
Oli.
Why? before,
They went to't by stealth, but now they do't openly.
There's one sin less, and then there's honesty
In plain dealing you know.
Cle.
Th'are much beholding t'ye for defending them so well.
Oli.
Nay, I'll stand for th'reputation
Of our Sex, long as I live.
Cle.
You stand for't fairly indeed—But
Here comes the Duke and Dutchess.
SCENE III.
The Duke, Dutchess, Agenor, Cleanthes, &c.
Dutch.
'Beseech your Highness banish him the Court,
Duke.
We can't in justice, on the bare report
Of those your Women, which can't be prov'd, unless
Aurindo's self shou'd his own crime confess.
Besides, you know, he's our Sons Favorit,
And we don't know how he'll approve of it.
Dutch.
Best let him tarry then, till he has made
Lust and Libidiousness a common trade,
And he at last be so outragious grown,
To attempt the Chastities of every one.
Duke
How does this accusation agree
With's former bashfulness and modesty?
Dutch.
More modest and bashful he was before▪
[Page 64] Now makes the crime of falling from't the more.
Duke.
But none, without first passing by the mean,
Strait fall from t'on unto the other extream.
Dutch.
And I cou'd tell you that just so did he,
Who made th'attempting of their Chastity,
Onely a degree unto the attempting mine,
But that l'd not accuse him of a crime;
For which by th Laws he ought to die.
Cle.
How's this?
Duke.
If this your accusation be true,
We'll not onely banish him th'Court, but Countrey too.
Nay, take his life for it,—who's there does wait?
Go some and see him apprehended strait.
Exit Guard.
Cle.
But I'll go first and prevent it, if I can.
[Exit hastily▪
Duke
Now, Madam, are you satisfied?
Dutch.
I am,
And thank you for your Justice; and now, to let you see
Y'have but reveng'd your self, as well as me.
Wou'd you believe it? I found him but to day,
Embracing and kissing your Emilia?
Duke.
Call her not mine, for now I hate her more,
Then ever I esteem'd and lov'd her heretofore;
As by th'revenge I'll take, you soon shall see,
And she soon feel—Agenor follow me.
[Exit with Agenor▪
Dutch.
I know not what revenge he means to take▪
But for th'ungrateful Boy, I mean, to make
Him know, before I've done with him, that he
Ruin'd himself, when he offended me.
SCENE IV.
Cleanthes, Aurindo after.
Exit Dutchest.
Cle.
There goes one,
Who proves that nothing's more insatiate
Than Woman, either in their loves or hate;
And th'are strange Creatures to be pleas'd, no gentle Lamb,
Nor harmless Dove was e'er more milde and tame.
Displeas'd, no Tyger nor Lion rob'd of s prey,
Was e'er more fell and furious than they—
But see unto my wish.
Enter Aurindo.
Here comes Aurindo.
Oh, Madam, quickly flie,
And save your life, it is but lost else.
Aur.
Why?
Cle.
Let it suffice the Dutchess seeks your life,
That is but lost, less you flie and prevent the danger.
Aur.
Whoever flies their danger to prevent,
Makes themselves guilty, though innocent.
Cle.
When Princes seek their lives, 'tis an offence
To go about to prove their innocence,
Equal to being guilty; wherefore go,
For all the Court is up in search of you,
As on some great and general hunting day,
When each one eagerly pursues the prey.
Aur.
[Page 66]If this be so, I like a hun'ed Deer,
Will flie to Erminia's, and shelter there.
For none can better save my life, and I
To none wou'd ow my life more willingly.
Cle.
Go quickly then, and save your self as secretly as you can—
So now I'll leave you.
Brings her to the door.
SCENE V.
Emiliaes Pallace.
Clymias, Cleobulo, Calimachus after.
Exit Cleanthes t'other way.
Cle.
Well, and how d'ye like the Moor? our fellow
Servant now?
Cly.
Why, as thou'dst do a resty jade,
Who wou'd not stir a foot for thee;
Or a high metled Horse,
That when thou spur'st him, or offer'st but to check
The Reins, rears up, and's ready to break thy neck—
Uds so, we were deceiv'd in him.
We thought to put all the work of the house upon him,
And we may do it our selves, for ought I see,
You may bid the Post do things as well as him,
And the Post will stir as soon too.
Cle.
He understands you not perhaps.
Cly.
I know not,
But I'm sure I understand him but too well—
I gave him a Broom even now,
And 'pointed him where to sweep
[Page 67] (This was plain enough, now one wou'd imagine)
And what did he, but lay me over the pate
With the Broom-staff,
And so he serv'd me with a Fire-shovel another time.
He'll carry no Coals I can tell you.
Cle.
No? But I'll make him, and h'ad as good eat them too,
As refuse to do what I bid him; you shall see
I'll make him fetch and carry like a Water-Spanniel▪
And do tricks like an Ape for me, before l've done with him.
You know not how to handle him.
Enter Calimachus.
Cly.
Look, here he comes—Let's see now.
Cle.
Mark then—There Sirrah▪ fetch.
[Throws him a Glove.
Cly.
D'ye mark how he fetches and carries for you,
Like a Water-Spanniel.
Cle.
He did not see it perhaps—Now mark again—
Come over here Sirrah, here—
[Holds out his Arm for him, and leaps over.
Cly.
D'ye mark agen,
How he does tricks like an Ape for you?
Cle.
No! But I'll make him, if he will not—
—Why how now Sirrah, must I be troubled with ye?
S'led I think I shall be troubled with him indeed—
[Takes him by the Shoulder, and he takes him by the Throat.
Help, help Clymias.
Cly.
[Page 68]Not I be-shrew me,
There's none knows how to handle him
But your self, you know.
Cle.
The Divel shall handle him for me,
If he be such an one—
Vengeance on your Claws, and hooked Talons;
He grip'd me worse than a Lion does its Prey,
Or a Hawk its Quarry.
SCENE VI.
Palemon to them.
Pal.
Now, what's here to do?
You have been vexing the Moor I see.
Cly.
No indeed, forsooth, he has rather been vexing us.
Pal.
Go too, and meddle with him no more, I charge you.
Cle.
With all our hearts, so he'd meddle no more with us.
Exeunt.
Manent Calimachus and Palemon.
Pal.
Now, how goes it?
Cal.
O Friend, the Storms and Tempests of my Brest,
By no comparisons can be exprest;
Neither with those on Land, when Winds do blow,
As Fabrick of the World they'd overthrow;
Or those at Sea, when Waves do rise so high,
You'd think their very Billows touch'd the Skie—
For her being visited by the Prince and Duke,
That now's a thing I easily cou'd brook.
[Page 69] But to be visited by a Villain-Page,
And kiss'd and embraced too, does ever enrage
Me unto madness—
SCENE VII.
Emilia, Aurindo, &c. Althea secretly following.
And see, he's here again!
And shall we never then be rid of him?
There is no way, but kill him.
Offers to draw, but is withheld.
Pal.
Yet again?
There are hundred others, besides killing him,
And there's no necessity to do that, which we
Shou'd never do for any necessity.
Em.
Fear not, but be assur'd whil'st you are here,
You are as safe, as you at Argos were;
And I assure my self this place, and you
Shall be as free from violation too.
Aur.
It were so high sacriledge, to violate
A place, Madam, your presence does consecrate▪
I shou'd assoon the violation fear,
In Heaven it self, of Saints and Angels there.
Em.
If any thing, render you free from violence,
'Tis not I, nor th'place, but onely your innocence.
For more security yet,
I'll lock you up here in my Cabinet,
Mean time, pray think it not a prison, but
Rather a Sanctuary where y'are put.
Aur.
I think so, Madam, or if't a prison be▪
To be your prisoner's above all liberty.
She locks her up, then goes the other way.
Alt.
[Page 70]Well then, I see
My Lady will get Aurindo away from me,
And then she kills me quite;
For who takes my coyn, does but as robbers do,
Who takes my love, robs me, and kills me too.
I shall remember this.
Exit.
Enter Calimachus and Palemon.
Cal.
Well—What think you?
Are these fit Cabinet pieces for Ladies now?
Pal.
Till more of her intention I know,
I cannot tell, whether they or no. t,
For oft for want of knowing their inten
We judge those guilty who are innocent.
Cal.
Won't you have me believe my eyes, and what I see?
Pal.
Believe your eyes, but not your jealousie;
Which like the Jauness, so infects our sight
With colour of't, we nothing see aright.
And mark the count'nance of the Boy, 'twas fear
Rather than love, it seems, did bring him here.
Cal.
Nay, then we shall ne'er have done—But who have we here,
More Visitants?
SCENE VIII.
Agenor, Althea, Emilia after, &c.
Age.
The Duke has sent me on a Message here,
I wou'd some other, rather than I might bear.
But who by Princes are commanded, they
Must not dispute their pleasures, but obey—
[Page 71] Is your Lady within?
Alt.
Yes Sir.
Age.
Pray tell her then, there
'S a Messenger from th'Duke desires to speak with her.
Alt.
I shall.
Exit.
Pal.
What message shou'd this be?
Cal.
I'll lay my life,
Some amorous one or other to my wife.
Enter Emilia.
Em.
Now Sir, your business.
Age.
Madam, 'tis such I fear,
Will go nigh to break your heart, when you shall hear.
Em.
What's that?
Age.
Imagine but the worst that can be sed,
A nd it is that—my Lord your Husband's dead.
Cal.
How's this?
Laughs.
Em.
How dead!
Age.
Why, cast away at Sea,
And drown'd in his return from Attica.
Em.
My Lord and Husband dead?
Nay then, I've liv'd too long.
Sounds.
Cal.
Bravely counterfeited on all sides.
Pal.
Why, Madam, Madam.
Age.
This wou'd be the effect,
O'th'news I brought, I ever did suspect;
But I must go and tell the Duke of it.
Exit.
Pal.
Help for shame here, will you let her die,
When you may remedy it so easily,
By discovering you are alive.
Cal.
Paw Man, I know
An easier way to remedy it than so.
[Page 72] Let us but go and leave her here alone,
No Woman e'er died for grief, when she was alone.
[Exit.
Pal.
Why Madam, Madam, what mean you? will you die
For a false report? Calimachus live's, upon
My life he does.
Em.
Ay, in t'other world where I,
Will presently go to bear him company.
Pal.
Nay in this, and if I shew
You him not alive e'er to morrow, ne'er trust me more.
Em.
You say this onely to comfort me now.
Pal.
'Tis true, I do so Madam, and what I've sed,
I will make good, wherefore be comforted.
Em.
Why the Duke shou'd do this, I do not know,
Unless to be reveng'd on me; if so,
'Tis but a poor revenge to tell a lie,
Which like false Coyn's discover'd presently.
And when discover'd, turns to th' Authors shame,
And gets them onely a base Liers name.
What ever his intention was, I'll fit
Him for't, and seem as I believed it.
So shall I innocently revenged be,
And deceive those, who'd have deceiv'd me.
Exit
Enter t'other way.
SCENE IX.
Clymias, Cleobulo, Althea, after Palemon.
Cle.
O Clymias,
We have lost the best Master as ever servants had!
Oh, oh, oh!
Cly.
[Page 73]'Tis true indeed, but never cry for that;
We did not all come together, and shall not
All go together, you know.
Cle.
How ever we must cry now, Oh, oh, oh.
Enter Althea crying too.
Alt.
Oh, oh, oh.
Pal.
These people cry in consert;
What a caterwawling they make?
[The servants go out crying.
Alt.
Oh, my Lord, my Lord, what shall I do? what shall I do?
Pal.
Why prithee, hold thy peace, and make not such a noise.
Alt.
Why, are your ears so dainty? they can endure no noise, I pray?
Pal.
Nay, prithee don't leave crying, and fall to scolding now.
Alt.
Scold! Who scolds I pray? Goodly goodly!
Pal.
Will 'thold thy peace then?
Alt.
Perhaps I will, perhaps I wont, what's that to you?
May'nt one speak for you, I pray? no wonder indeed?
Pal.
Agen! Twenty Pies and Jays,
Taken in Lim-twigs, make not such a chattering noise,
As one Woman when she sets upon it once.
Alt.
O, my Lord, my Lord, what shall I do? what shall I do.
Exit crying.
Enter Emilia the other way in Mourning.
Em.
So, now let them come
[Page 74] When e'er they please, I am prepar'd for them;
Nor can they say
I fain, to mourn his death whil'st he's away;
For death, and absence, onely differ in this,
This a short death, that, a long absence is.
Enter Althea.
Alt.
Madam the Prince is here without.
Em.
I look'd for him—
Aside.
Go presently then, conduct him in.
Exit Althea.
If all things in this visit falls out right.
I may finde means to serve the Princess by't.
SCENE X.
The Prince, Emilia, &c.
Pr.
Madam, to omit the common Ceremony
Of Comforting▪ and of Condoling w'ye▪
Which Verbal Comforts rather do increase
Our Griefs and Sorrows, than any ways make less.
Instead of that, I bring you a real one,
And in lieu of your dead Lord, offer you a living one.
And such an one, I without boast may say,
Equals the dead Calimachus every way.
I mean my self.
Em.
I'm glad of this—
Aside.
And more, my Lord, in deeds to answer you,
Than words, against the common custom too
Of other Widows, who when their Lords are dead,
Refuse by any means—to be comforted,
But sigh and weep in company, when they
But laugh, perchance, when company's away:
[Page 75] Were I assur'd your meaning real were—
Pr.
As real as that of dying Men, I swear.
Em.
Come to my Chamber in the dark to night
(For yet my shame can hardly brook the light,)
And there the sacred words of marriage past,
And hands to hands, as hearts to hearts made fast—
I say no more, you understand the rest
Pr.
I do, and count my self, most highly blest.
Em.
Look then you do not fail.
Pr.
Which if I do▪
May life, nay what is more, you fail me too.
Em.
Go, and make hast then.
Pr.
Wou'd day wou'd go as fast,
And this most happy night, make half that haste
[Exit.
Em.
So now
Will I dress the Princess in womans cloaths,
That so i th dark he may deceived be,
And marry her, when he comes instead of me—
Pardon me sacred Truth, thou know'st that 'tis
Not, to violate thy Laws, that I do this.
But for a greater good 'tis onely done,
To save thy Laws from Violation.
Exit.
Manet Althea.
Alt.
Hey da! this is fine,
The Prince and Page too! She might have left
Me him, at least, to be piddling with Ifaith.
But since she has so little Conscience,
I'll have as little.
And go, and tell the Dutchess all; so shall I be
Reveng'd on her, for disobliging me.
Exit.
Cal.
Why, here's brave hast!
Never was Widows mourning sooner past,
Nor ever Widow sooner married
Pal.
I tell you, she knows you are not dead,
And there's some plot in't.
Cal.
Ay, the plot is clear,
The Prince to night's to come and marry her,
'Less I forbid the Banes, which I shall do,
And some of them shall dearly pay for't too.
Pal.
Then I must tell you, with liberty of a Friend,
This way your jealousie ne'er will have end.
If you continue to interpret thus,
Toth'worfer sence all that she says and does▪
Cal.
Whilst you interpret all to the best, and I
To th'worst.
It follows necessarily in this affair,
Nor you, nor I, compotent Judges are.
Wherefore, till some more competent we get,
Let it alone, and talk no more of it:
But pray, go to the Port, and if perchance
Any arrive, may give intelligence
That I am here, divert them dext'rously,
Till I have finish'd my discovery.
Pal.
I shall, though I'm loath to leave you here a'one,
Least you shou'd take occasion, when I am gone
To do what y've so oft attempted.
Cal.
Never fear, but be assur'd I'll nothing do,
But what in honor I am bound unto.
Pal.
[Page 77]This point of honor is a thing so nice,
Sometimes it may be Vertue, sometimes Vice;
Sometimes be bad, sometimes agen be good,
According as 'tis rightly understood.
And oft for want of understanding't right,
'Stead of being honor'd, w'are dishonor'd by't.
Cal.
Go, go, you are so cautious still for me,
I'll understand it as I ought, you'll see—
[Exit Palemon.
So, I'm glad I've shifted him away—
For what w'are resolved to do, it is not fit
To let them know, may hinder th'doing it;
And he's of too milde disposition,
To know my desperate resolution—
For first, I'm resolv'd the Boy shall die, he ne'er
Shall live to boast the favors he 'has from her.
Then since I
Am dead to her, she shall be dead to me.
And th'hour of her marriage with the Prince, shall be
Her hour of death.
My honor is engaged in it, and I
Am absolutely resolv'd that she shall die.
This hand shall kill her—These eyes shall see't,
Although this heart burst at the sight of it.
Exit.
ACT V.
SCENE I.
The Dutchesses Cabinet▪
The Dutchess, Althea, Cleora.
Dutch.
THanks Althea, and th'Duke shall thank thee too
For thy intelligence. I'll but onely go
Inform him of it, and straight follow thee:
Mean time go home, and look you ready be,
To give us entrance when we come.
Alt.
I shall.
Exit.
Gle.
The more Traytor you.
Aside.
Dutch.
I was afraid he had escap'd by flight,
And so had frustrated my anger by't.
But now I'll let him know
My anger's none of these light blazing fires,
Which gives a flash or two, and then expires.
But Elementary Fire that's its own
Fewel and flame, and ne'er does less become.
And this his flying to Emilias,
My fire of Anger more incensed has.
As if h'had such confidence in her, or else she
Such power to defend his life, and him from me.
[Page 79] So this is all he has obtain'd by flight,
To make himself, and cause more guilty by't;
And where before less punishment might suffice,
Now, without mercy, 'tis resolv'd he dies.
Exit.
Manet Cleora.
Cle.
Alas poor Aurindo! Introth, I pitty him.
But this is a just judgment on him now,
For his making me loose my longing, when time was—
Wou'd I had some body to tell this news to now,
For never any Collick, Strangury,
Nor other retentive disease; no not the pangs
Of child-birth it self, was ever half so painful
As the Retention of news, to one who longs
To be deliver'd of it.
SCENE II.
The Court▪
Olindo, Agenor, and Cleanthes after, &c.
O Olindo,
have you heard the news?
Oli.
No, what news?
Cle.
I'll tell you—But you must say nothing.
Oli.
Pho, you know
No dying body holds things faster than I
Do secrets.
Cle.
Why▪ Aurindo whom we thought was fled,
Is yonder at Emilia's discovered,
And th'are sending to apprehend him.
Oli.
Alas? He is but dead then,
And I could finde in my heart to beg his life.
[Page 80] But for bringing my Maiden head in question▪
Wou'd I had some body.
Enter Agenor.
To tell this to—O Agenor, have you heard the news?
Age.
What news?
Oli.
Why, I'll tell you—But you must say nothing.
Age.
That's understood.
Oli.
Why, Aurindo is apprehended at Emiliaes,
And is now at his arraignment▪
Cle.
There he has added that unto it now.
Aside.
Age.
This will be news unto Cleanthes here—
Enter Cleanthes.
O Cleanthes,
have you heard the news of Aurindo?
Clea.
What of him?
Age.
Why, he's condemn'd to death,
And just now th'are leading him to execution.
Clea▪
Nay then 'tis time to discover who she is—
I'll presently to the Duke.
Exit.
Clea.
There he has added another circumstance more to't!—This is fine Embrodery.
There wants onely his speech on the Scaffold now,
To make the news compleat.
Oli.
Ifaith, Ifaith, I see you men,
Can as little hold secrets as we women.
Clea.
But of all women, commend me to you—
Did I tell you Aurindo was apprehended?
And to be try'd for his life?
Oli.
And did I tell you! That he was already condemn'd to die,
[Page 81] And just now leading to his execution?
[To Agenor.
And did not you promise me to say nothing?
Cle.
And you me?
Oli.
Ay, that was before I heard it;
But after, I cou'd not hold no more than you,
Whom, I know wou'd have burst, if you had not come out with it.
Cle.
Well, I'll take heed
How I tell you any more secrets.
Oli.
Mean time, I'll go and tell this to all I meet?
Cle.
Ay, will you so? But you shall run for't then.
[Exeunt running.
Manet Agenor.
Age.
A pleasant contention?
But I'll go to Emilia's to know,
Where this news of Aurindo be true or no.
SCENE III.
Emilia's Pallace.
Clymias, Cleobulo, Calimachus after.
Exit Agenor.
Cly.
Why this Moor's a Devil;
And now I know the reason, why they paint
The Devil of his colour—He makes no more of beating us,
Then Hammer-men do of Anvels, or Hemp-beaters
Of beating Hemp. 'Tis his ordinary exercise
Before meals, to get him an appetite,
[Page 82] And afterwards to help digestion.
We are never at quiet for him, but in our sleep;
And shortly I look to have him fall upon us,
Like a Night-mare in our sleep too.
Cle.
This was your fault, for why
Wou'd you offer to beat him?
Cly.
Why, because I thought he wou'd not beat me again,
Else I'd have seen him hang'd,
E'er I'd have meddled with him.
Cle.
Well, there's no way now,
But to hold together, for Hercules, they say,
Is not strong enough for two.
Cly.
Ay, but if he shou'd prove stronger then Hercules now,
That old saying wou'd do us but little good.
Cle.
I ll warrant you—And see where he comes here.
Cly.
Look he becomes us away.
Cle.
Ay—But let's not stir for him—
Yes, I warrant you, when can you tell?
Cly.
Uds so—Wo unto us now,
For he has got a staff.
Cle.
No matter, let us but hold together,
And look you that ways, whil'st I look this,
For fear of a surprise, and there's no danger.
Cly.
I am terribly afraid though,
For my left Buttock never itches, but I
Am sure of a beating—Now, now; he comes, he comes—
Oh, oh, oh!
He yokes his Staff about their necks, and whirls them about.
Cle.
[Page 83]Oh, oh, oh.
Cal.
Now will I go kill the Boy.
Throws away his Staff, and Exit▪
Manent Clymias and Cleobulo.
Cly.
Devil take him, a my Conscience h'as broke my neck.
Cle.
And mine's but little better. Shame on you, are these your tricks.
If he hold on, he'll make more work for Surgeons,
Than twenty drunken quarrels.
Cly.
He made me spin like a top.
Cle.
And I imagin'd my self
A Hand-mill grinding Mustard-seed.
Cly.
If he could but speak
And give us but a reason, yet for his beating us,
'Twou'd never anger me.
Cle.
No. 'tis better as it is,
For if I he cou'd speak, 'twere but a word and a blow with him,
I know him well enough.
Cly.
But behold my Lady.
Cle.
Then let us be gone.
Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
Emiliaes Cabinet.
Emilia, Aurindo after in Womans attire.
Em.
Now having given order without,
For reception of the Prince, I'll in and see
If the Princess be ready yet—
[Page 84] There is a certain pleasure in doing good,
By none but those who do it understood;
And 'tis redoubled then, when 'tis done to those
Are most deserving of the good one does—
Enter Aurindo in Womans attire.
Where are you Madam?—
Why now you look like your self, just as the Sun
When after long Ecclipse he here does come,
Cheering this other Hemisphere with light;
And with his presence makes a day of night.
Aur.
Nay, now you flatter me.
Em.
Flatter you those who can,
Who are so far above it,
As those shou'd rather be counted envious, who
Don't praise you, than flatterers who do—
Where was the Princes judgment I wonder? where
His eyes? That after he had seen this Beauty here,
He could ever look on any other?
Aur.
He might well be excus'd, having seen your Beauty once,
To have quite forgotten mine.
Em
Nay, now you flatter me—
Stay, let me help you a little.
Aur.
Excuse me, Madam.
Em.
Beseech you, y'are not us'd
To dress your self I know.
Aur
Nor you to dress others.
Em.
'Pray, Madam, be merry,
Aur.
Alas! how can I be merry,
Being to undertake an action;
In which the wise, and rash, are mingled so,
How to distinguish them, I do not know.
Em.
[Page 85]Now let me put on your vail, and all is well—
Why do ye tremble so?
Aur.
How I can chuse but fear?
Considering in what danger I am here,
And how I indanger you, shou'd they but know,
How you conceal me here?
Em.
I'll warrant you—Ha! what noise is that?
SCENE V.
The Moor rushes in with's Sword drawn, Palemon after, &c.
Aur.
Some come to apprehend me!
Em.
Fly then strait
Into my Closset.
Exit Aurindo and Emilia▪
Cal.
What's this I see? The Boy gone, and a Woman in his place?
There's witchcraft in it sure? And I can't believe my eyes.
(Emilia again.
Em.
What noise was this? Ha!
The Moor here and 's Sword drawn! Help, help.
Enter Palemon.
Pal.
What means these cryes Madam?
Em
Do you not see
The Moor with's Sword drawn? Ready to murther me?
Pal.
If that be all, Madam, behold he's gone,
And it's onely your imagination.
Em.
Never tell me, nor excuse him, I know
The danger I was in, and it was more than so.
[Page 86] Wherefore see presently he be sent away,
For I'm resolv'd he shall no longer stay;
Who now of late is grown so dangerous,
There's no induring him longer in the house.
Pal.
Have but patience, Madam, till my Lord comes home,
And then I promise you he shall be gone.
Em.
Well—so long I'll suffer him, since you have promis'd me,
That e'r to morrow I shou'd see my Lord,
And I expect you shou'd make good your word.
[Exit, and Calimachus appears at other side.
Pal.
What have you done since I went hence? That she
Is so implacably offended w'ye,
She'll never more endure your sight again?
Cal.
Truth is, I thought to have kill'd the Boy; and when
I came, but think how great my wonder was,
To finde him gone, and a Woman in his place!
Pal.
You see from hence, how y'are mistaken still,
And how your jealousie deceives you, yet you will believe it still.
Cal.
Well, hereafter I will be
More wary, mean time, what news from th' Port with ye?
Pal.
All the news that's there, is y'are return'd, and that y'are somewhere here
Conceal'd in Town; wherefore, or presently
Discover your self, or they'll discover ye,
And let her know your self, what she will know
From others shortly, whether you will or no.
Cal.
[Page 87]Have but patience till night, when I shall know
Whether I've reason for my jealousie, or no;
Which of all the wounds incurable they call,
Is one of the most incurable of all.
Pal.
Ne'er say so; for there's none but cur'd may be,
So onely they'll apply the remedy.
Cal.
Ah never, never that, but be assur d,
Hurt Honor may be salv'd, but never cur'd.
And those are living, it no more won'd stead,
Than salving of their wounds, wou'd those are dead.
You have heard the assignation
Sh'as made the Prince, to marry him anon;
And as I see the issue of this night,
So I shall know to take my measures right.
Pal.
Well, since y'are so resolv'd, I'll leave you; and I
Must onely be sorry for what I can't remedy.
Exit.
Cal.
I wou'd to Heaven this fatal night were past.
That I might know what to resolve at last.
For since first hour of my jealousie,
No damn'd Soul ever suffer'd more than I▪
And now by dear experience I finde,
There is no torment to a troubled minde.
SCENE VI.
Althea, Calimachus, the Prince after.
Enter Althea.
Alt.
My Lady sets me here
To watch the Princes coming,
And I hope he'll give me a good reward for it;
For my Palm itches for it,
[Page 88] As a Physitian or Lawyers for their fees,
And that's a good sign, however I shall nothing leese;
For when the Duke and Dutchess comes, I expect agen
A reward from them, for the betraying him.
Enter Prince.
Cal.
Oh here comes the Prince.
Pr.
Now I am come
'Twixt willingness and unwillingness I finde,
Thought of Irena comes into my minde;
And how I go to give away to night,
That to another, which onely is her right.
But 't shou'd have sooner come, or not at all.
For now it is too late, and my minde is all
Upon Emilia—Now Althea, where's your Lady?
Alt.
Within my Lord in her Chamber, expecting you i'th' dark.
Pr.
No matter, my Love, the way will find,
As well 'th' dark as light, for Love is blind.
Alt.
I'll lead you to the door, and need not tell you,
How I've always been a ready servant to your pleasure.
Pr.
I know it well,
And thank you for't.
Cal.
So, I know, at least, where to have him now,
Although the Boy be vanisht, I know not how.
Alt.
How's this! I know it well, and thank you for't.
These answers now, me thinks, do come far short
Of those he was wont to give me heretofore,
When every word with Gold was guilded o'er.
By which I see, men give more (howe'er it comes,)
For unlawful pleasures, than for lawful ones.
[Page 89] But now I talk of pleasure,
I have long had a mind uuto this Moor,
And never had opportunity before,
To finde him alone—Come then
My pretty swarthy Rogue, let you and I
Have a little more familiarity—
She offers to embrace him, and he shoves her away so rudely as she falls.
A shame on you!
Is this your familiarity with a vengeance,
You black Shag-dog, you ugly Devil you,
I cou'd find in my heart to claw out his eyes—
Beshrew
His heart for it for me—I fear
There's somewhat out of joynt in my Crupper here.
SCENE VII.
The Duke, Dutchess, Cleanthes, Agenor, Cleora, Olinda, &c.
Duke.
Away, away,
You tell me a story so improbable,
I'd believe the Metamorphoses as well
Aurindo Princess of Argos!
Cle.
I can assure your Highness 'tis most true;
Wherefore by the Laws of Nations, you
Are to preserve her person inviolate.
Duke.
We know well enough, what w'are to do for that,
And how far to preserve her inviolate; for when
We have Aurindo, take you the Princess then.
Cle.
[Page 90]And when you have him, you will easily know,
Whether it be Aurindo or she, or no.
Dutch.
Where is Emiliaes Chamber?
Break open the door there?
Duke.
Stay, first knock, and if they open it not,
Then do as y'are commanded, break it open.
Within Pr.
Who knocks there?
Duke.
'Tis I, the Duke.
Within Pr.
Then please your Highness onely stay a while,
And I'll come out.
SCENE VIII.
The Prince and Aurindo vailed, Calimachus at t'other door, &c.
Pr.
Fear not dearest now, you are mine, there's none
Shall dare to touch or injure you.
Dutch.
You my Son?
Rather my shame, who might have married
A Soveraign Princess, to take unto your Bed,
An ordinary person, and a subject now.
Dutch.
Nay worse, a base dishonorable woman too.
Cal.
Now will I kill her even in the Princes Arms.
[Offers to draw first, as she unvails.
Ha!
Aur.
I am not base, nor dishonorable, but one
As noble, and honorable as any, excepting none.
Alt.
How's this? Aurindo, a Woman!
Cle.
[Page 91]I told you so.
Pr.
The Princess of Argos!
Aur.
The same,
And now your wife.
Pr.
I shall die for very shame
Of my inconstancy.
Cal.
Now 'tis clear,
My Erminia is true, and I falsly suspected her.
Wherefore—I'll instantly
Go ask her pardon for my jealousie.
Exit.
Alt.
What makes him go so fast
Towards my Ladies Chamber, I wonder!
I'll follow and see.
Exit▪
Pr.
And can you pardon me sweet?
Aur.
I can pardon any thing, but your doubt of it.
My fear is, you'l never trust me more, when you
Consider but how I have deceiv'd you now.
Pr.
Oh more, far more, for you now have but done
Like some charitable Physitian,
Who for to cure some wayward Patient,
Is forc't a hundred stratagems to invent.
Which being cur'd, he thankfully does confess,
And asks their pardon for his waywardness.
Dutch.
Madam, though now I'll not excuse
My former love to Aurindo, nor say agen
It was the Princess that I lov'd, not him
Yet now I may truly say,
I love the Princess more
Then ever I did Aurindo heretofore.
Aur.
And I, Madam, am doubly obliged to you
For the love you bore me then,
[Page 92] And that you bear me now.
Pr.
But where's Erminia, who has so happily
Deceived me?
Enter Althea.
Alt.
Why, you shall finde her in the Moors arms there within,
He embracing her, and she embracing him.
Aur.
It cannot be.
Duke.
That we shall strait-ways know.
Go some of you fetch them forth; and if't be so,
The Moor shall die, what e'er becomes of her.
Aur.
This does to me so impossible appear
That she so much her honor shou'd forget,
I'd not believe mine eyes, though they did see't.
Dutch.
Now don't you see them?
SCENE IX.
Duke.
Bring them, bring them away,
And is this the chast, and vertuous Emilia?
Who stood so highly on her honor, she
Had rather die, than forfeit her chastity,
That now's all prostitute to that Villain there,
Who from her Bravo's, become her Adulterer—
To the Cross with him.
Dutch.
And let her live▪ with shame,
Of being branded with a strumpets name.
Cal.
Stay—and rather then her honor shou'd suffer by't,
The dumb shall speak, and Ethiope turn white.
[Discovers himself.
Duke.
[Page 93]How! Calimachus the Moor? I'm lost in the dismay
Of the strange changes I have seen to day!
Cal.
And now, I crave your Highness pardon,
That since the Wars in Attica are done,
Without your Licence I'm returned home▪
Duke.
Y'have merited so much whil'st you were there▪
You can do nothing I shou'd not pardon here.
And I shou'd ask your pardon too, that I
So far have tryed Emilia's constancy,
But that you know, with no other intention
But onely to try her constancy 'twas done.
Cal.
I know it well, my Lord—or it is best
To seem to know no otherwise at least.
A side.
Duke.
And now, Madam, here our jealousie ends
Of Aurindo and Emilia, and we are friends.
[They embrace.
Dutch.
And Emilia and I no less.
Em.
Nay, leave your fleering, for you and I must part,
You know I've given you warning.
To Althea.
Alt.
With all my heart;
For then—I hope your Highness, at least, will entertain me.
Duke.
Not I, I promise you; for she
Who's false to her, will ne'er be true to me.
Alt.
Well then—My comfort is, when services won't do,
I have a good Trade, at least, to trust unto.
Exit.
Cy.
We are heartily glad your Lordship is return'd
And your self agen; for you don't beat us half so much
[Page 94] When y'are our Lord, as when y'are our fellow-servant.
Cal.
Nor you don't deserve it half so much neither.
But we too much forget Palemon here,
Who has always been a faithful friend to me;
And you have not a truer friend than he.
Em.
Noble Palemon I do know so well,
What he's to you and me, you need not tell.
Pal.
And I'm so much servant to you and him,
I know not which o'th' two I most esteem.
Duke.
As for you, Madam, y'are as welcome here,
As if you in your own Dominions were;
And 'tis indeed your own Dominion
Since Argos and Micena now are both but one.
Aur.
What e'er I am at Argos, I desire
To be your Highness humble servant here.
Duke.
Well then—Farewel Calimachus, and cherish Emilia there;
For I on tryal thus can of her,
That honor and she are twins.
And so alike 'twere no mistake to say,
Emilia is Honor, and Honor Emilia.
EPILOGUE.
WE can't but think what censuring there will be
Know, of this our Tragi-Comedy.
Whil'st some will praise this in it, and some that
Others again dispraise they know not what.
Mean time for us (though t'rarely does befal)
It is our hopes, that it please you all,
If it be possible (for now 'tis come
To that) 'tis held impossible to be done.
Your humors are so different, and you
So different in your opinions too.
As for our Author, all he bad us say,
Was onely this, for Epilogue to our play,
That if it do not please you now, he's sorry;
And if it do, he's glad he has it for ye.
FINIS.