THE Mariage Night.

WRITTEN By the LORD Viscount FAVVLKLAND.

Scientia non habet Inimicum, Praeter Ignorantiam.

LONDON. Printed by W. G. for R. Crofts at the Crown in Chancery-Lane under Sergeants-Inne. 1664.

CASTILE.

  • The King.
    • De Castro.
    • Dessandro.
    Counts Brothers.
  • De Flame. A Count.
    • Pirez.
    • Sampayo.
    Two Lords.
    • De Loome.
    • La Gitterne.
    Attendants to the Duke.
  • Silliman, Steward to the Dutchesse.
  • Two Judges.
  • Claudilla, A Dutchesse.
  • De Bereo, A Duke, Brother to the King.
  • Cleara, Sister to De Flame.
    • Torguina.
    • De Prate.
    Ladies to the Dutchesse.
  • Attendants.

Licensed,

Roger L'Estrange.

THE Mariage Night.
Actus primus, Scena prima.

Enter Pirez and Sampayo.
Pirez.

POssible?— Dessandro quit from his Command oth' Cittadel? so sharply too? Brushing times, my Lord: Pray, by virtue of what offence?

Sampayo.

It may be treason to ask their wisdoms that; But the huge Mountebank, the vulgar Rout quarrell'd with's Religion, 'cause 'tis not in the smallest Print: And the King was to say nothing.

Pirez

Good King: I could wish something, and heartily if I durst: Well, from grave hypocrisie and beardlesse wisdome, good heaven deliver us: Nothing in his great Fathers Memory, to hold him worthy of his place?

Sampayo.

That makes him taste it to the extremity of Sense and Anger.

Pirez▪

Let us but slight some Gull, or his gay dresse (whose Clothes▪ and Folly, are his sense of honour) how it will conjure up his blood, and bend his Brow? And can Dessandro want a just and valiant anger [Page 2] to feel the merits of so brave a Father, and his own (kept at a noble height) rendred disgrac'd and fullied? he may believe a' has deserved better, both in his father and himself: But how does his Resolution take it?

Sampayo.

As Fire and Air comprest, when strugling they break forth in Thunders; or the vex'd wind amongst a Grove of Trees, spending his Scorn and Rage.

Pirez.

Men of his Soul and Constitution cannot play with their Passions; and stroke' um tame, so provoked.

Enter Duke de Bereo, passing over the Stage, De Castro whispering with him: De Loome; La Gitterne, and other Attendants.

The Duke.

Duke.

Let him be confident of me, in something more worthy of himself, then the Command he has lost; and bid him use my Promise.

De Castro.

We are the Creatures of your Favour, and but own our lives to acknowledge it.—

[Exeunt.]
Pirez.

Here's State embroidery:— but pray'e, what holyday things be they that spread so in his Train? I don't remember I left such faces in the Court.

Sampayo.

The first of them stalkes in a knighthood, like A Boy in a Dutch Burgers doublet; and 'tis as much too wide for him; a' his travel'd, and speakes Languages, as a Barbers Boy plays oth' Gitterne; And those gay Clouts Sir came out on's Fathers Shop.

Pirez.

His Remnants: the Other: that looks like the Age to come, which must be worse then this.

Sampayo.

His Fortune and Industry has prefer'd him to be Barber and Pimp; Two mens places, till of late our Noblemen, growing frugal, do find one may do both the Imployments.

Pirez.
[Page 3]

It is both thriving and gentile.

Samp.

Gentile indeed; for they have produced Knights, and made Statesmen of broken Citizens (with the help of a Wife) But he whose youth and sorrow shews him like a fair day, set in a Cloudy Evening is—

Pirez.

The Lord De Castro; I know him, and me thinks some sparks of his Father, great Valesco's Character, shines in this young man, through all the darknesse of his Fate.

Samp.

That Name alone, has glory enough to make him a brave presage to us: Duke's Fathers Character was deriv'd and circled in himself; And a full age of Men shall rarely shew another of so much great and ballanc'd Man in't.

Pirez.

They are all Court Fancies: Pageants of State, and want allowance both of Brain and Soul to make their Blood and Titles weight.

Samp.

He was strangely shuffled to the Block.

Pirez.

That Blow did bleed Castile too weak, and left us in a faint and sickly pang.

Samp.

The Pulse, Sir, of Castile beats in another temper then when you left it.

Pirez.

I find it: The City wears a Cap, and looks as if all were not right there.

Samp.

Except their Wives.

Pirez.

The Court me thinks has strangely chang'd Complexion too.

Samp.
Those that deride us say—
The Clergy has catch'd the Falling Sicknesse;
The Court, a deep Consumption; and that
The Commons have the Spleen.
Pirez.

I know not what disease the Court has; but the Lords look as if they had over sate themselves at Play, and lost odds; so scurvily.

Samp.

How does your Lordship find the Ladies?

Pirez.

I ha' not been amongst um yet, to take up my Arrears; only had the Court happinesse to [Page 4] kisse her hand, who in her self, contracts them all for Grace and Lustre, the Widow Dutchesse Claudilla.

Samp.

Why there my admiration leaves you; I Grant her a brave and Courtly Girle: has trim and dazle enough of white and red, to attract the eye, like an indifferent Copie, Flourish'd with Golden trailes; but place your Judgement nearer, it retreats and Cryes you mercy for the mistake: At distances, she is a Goodly Landskip.

Pir.

Alas, her blooming beauties yet languish and Pine or'e her Husbands Herse, like Roses scatter'd from the Mornings brow, into the dayes Parch'd Lap.

Samp.

Their Spring will shine again, Grow Glorious and Fruitful in the Arms of her De Flame; It is my hearty wish to their Affections; That Count does bear an honour'd Character from all that knows him.

Pir.

A brave young man, and one that is more Honour to his Title than it to him; But when must their Hymenial Tapers flame? and she offer her Turtle Pantings at the Altar, Purpling the Morn with Blushes as she goes and scatter such Bright Rayes, as the Sun may dresse his Beams with for that dayes Glory.

Samp.

After he has Celebrated his Sister to Dessandros hand, he will not defer those Minutes Long, and he thinks himself behind in some expression of their Frienpship, until the knot meet there.

Pir.

Cleara is a Lady of a sweet and honoured Fame.

Samp.

All other of her Sex are dull and sullied imitations, Pale Glimmerings, set by her: What er'e the modest fictions of sweetned Pens has meant, she is their Moral.

Pir.

You speak like one that knows what Virtue is, and can love it.

Enter De Castro, and Dessandro to them.
Dess.

I thank the Duke, he has a Right Soul; But, Prethee no more of these sad Consolations, they hang upon my heart like pondrous w [...]ights at trembling wyres: Or like the dull Labourings of that Clock which groan'd our dear Father's Fatal minute.

De Cast.

I have done.

Dess.

I could chide this tame and phlegmy vapour from my blood: Our Passions melt into soft Murmurs, like hollow Springes:— the Manhood of cold hinds wou'd not be tempted to this sense, but leap with rage in their eyes; Brother, it wou'd; and wake 'um into Tempests; A wretched Flie, would shew its spleen.

De Cast.

This Anger will but shew men where you bleed and keep the wound still Green.

Dess.

The Scar will stick for ever:— Oh; the dark Hypocrisie and Jugling of our Times? Great Men are Slaves to Slaves, and we are theirs: The Law's a Tame Wolfe, Cowards and Fools may stroak with Giving hands, while he shall Couchant lie, and wagg the Taile; but shew his Fangs at you and I: A Noble wish is dangerous; is't not my Lord?

Pir.

What Dessandro?

Dess.

The Vulgar's a Kennel of black mouth'd dogs that worry mens deserts and Fame: my Curse fester in their Temples.

De Cast.

Prethee Dessandro, collect these Scatter'd thoughts.

Dess.

I'le hollow them through all the world, and say't again; Worth and Honour now are Crimes, and Giants 'gainst the State: My Lords; shall's be merry and talk something the Hangman may thank us for?

Pir.

Treason? I vow Dessandro, I speak the worst ex tempore, of any man living.

Samp.
[Page 6]

I could mutter it well enough; but I'm to marry A City Widow, and buy a Place at Court.

Pir.

When I have sold my Land we'l venture on A Merry Catch, and ever subscribe your Servant Noble Dessandro.

Dess.

I shall find a Time and Place to pay your Lordship the Accompt of my engagements.

De Cast.

Brother, my Attendance calls me to the King; I'le wait upon your Lordship, if y' are for the Court.

Pir.

Your Lordships Servant thither.—

[Exeunt.]
Dess.

So streams divide and Ruffle by their banks; My Brother's of a safe contracted bosome; Can strangle his labouring Rages in their thought; When they do tug like poysons at my brest, until I give them Air: But I'le observe and Creep into Mens Souls: Hugg my dear Anger to my self, until it gnaw my Intrails through, that men may Court my patience, and discourse, As now they shun it. And when black night has stretcht her Gloomy limbs, and laid her head upon some Mountain Top (bound up in foggy Mists) then keep my haunts by some dull groaning stream with screeching Owles, and Batts, there pay my broken thoughts unto thy Ghost Valesco: Eccho shall wake and midnight, to help me Curse their souls that thrust thee to thy grave, whilst I will hang about Nights neck until the Moon do wake to Rescue her.

Enter the Duke.
Duke.

Dessandro? You must not be angry my Power came short— of my desires to serve you; We'l try some other way: You see by what Engins the Times move; The King refers all to his Council; and though they do not tie his hands, they hold 'em by a strange Courtesie: I'm but a single Looker on: Perhaps [Page 7] they may take notice of me for his Brother; that's when they please too: But this came neerest to me, upon the engagement of my honour to deny my friend, and one whose single Faith had been enough for all the Kingdomes safety, the holding of such a Trifle as the Cittadel.

Dessandro.

It has recompens'd me in part to know where that Close annoy lay which wounded me ith' dark: I shall now collect my self against it, and know My Lord, where my poor life and powers are to be prostrate: Could I enlarge them to my wish they might appear Sir, to your Highnesse use.

Duke.

I know how far you can, bravest Man; your worth has taken fire here, where Ile preserve it in a Noble Flame.— My greatest thirst of Fame is my expression to Men of your Merit, who cannot want A friend whilst I have power to be one: But I am scanted and weakned in my desires, else Fam'd Valesco had not yet slept in his dust to please the Common hangman, nor Men of glorious Parts live shrowded in obscute homes, like pamphlets out of date.

Dess.

You are the Patron of our honored Actions, and all their Glory meets and Circles in your Fame.

Duke.

I will disengage you from this forc't complement; It keeps me at too great a distance from that bosome, where I would Lodge a friend, Dessandro: I must tak't unkindly too, that in the Scrowle of all your Friends, I stand dasht out a stranger to your Joys.

Dess.

My Lord?

Duke.

But you shall not steal the Day so: I'll be one at the Ceremony, though the Bride tell me in a blush, I came unwisht for.

Dess.

'Tis but the busie voyce, that like the Night-mare rides men; And can find strange Shapes and prodigies. [Page 8] ith' Clouds: I must Confess, Cleara has the engagement of all Her virtues and a Brothers on me; When it concerns me neerer, it must not be A Secret to your Highness, to whom all thit's deriv'd to my Poor life and Fortune is a Just debt.

Duke.

You know the way unto a Friend, If you can think I have power enough to make me so.

Dess.

Sir I was only shewed to the world to be talkt on: Fortune (I thank her) has given me many knacks to play with in her mood, but taken um away again scurvily, to tell me, I was not born to any real Purpose, And I wish nothing she can give me.

Duke.

She will acknowledge her mistake, and Put on her smiles to Court your merits. La Gitterne? Is the King come from's sport?

[La Gitterne waits.]
La Gitt.

He dines abroad, my Lord.

Duke.

Collonel, this Day you shall bestow on mee: I owe the Dutchels Claudilla a visit; Make ready straight; we'l spend a dinner time there, and the afternoon at Tennis.

[Exeunt.]
A SONG.
That done, Claudilla and De Flame discovered sitting in a rich Couch; at each end a Lady waiting.
De Flame.

This does but find our Melancholy out and cast it in a Minutes Trance; when one soft Accent from Claudilla's voice leaves nought that's earth about me. My Souls in her Elizium and every Sense immortal, dilated into joyes: Heaven becomes attentive, and the soft Winds put on their perfum'd Wings to hover neer those Lips: That Blush does shew the Sparkles of some incensed thought; My poor expressions Rob ye; But I appeal to this white hand for pardon.

Cla.

Sir, my thoughts are all acknowledgments of that delight I hear and see you with, what dress so e're you please [Page 9] to send your Courtship in to try um: We have outliv'd those Arts, and Common Charmes, and need not seek our hearts in scatter'd Flames, as those, whose Lesson yet, is at the hand or eye; our hearts have read Loves deep Divinity, and all his amorous Volumes over; We must write Stories of our Love, my Lord.

De Flame.

And chaste ones, Madam: How glorious the Frontispiece would shew with great Claudilla's Name, ty'd in a true Loves knot to her De Flames: Though the great distance of your shining Attributes both of Blood and Virtue, consider'd in the poverty of mine, would draw squint eyes, and Envie to my stars; but speak your Name Creat as the example of your goodnesse, and make it worth the imitation of all Noble minds that shall but read your Love and sweetnesse; which (most excellent of your Sex) Condescended unto me, who else had Languish'd in a heap of Ashes.

Claudilla.

My Lord; you have found an easie way into my heart, and won me from my self e're I could call my thoughts to resistance; Such strength brought your Deserts: But now I hope, nay can be Confident (best Sir) they are treasur'd in a Breast, whose Virtues will preserve them with themselves.

De Flame.

Oh Madam!

Claudilla.

It may be some Discourse, that when first I entertain'd your Love, I had not yet given the world, and my dead Husbands Earth, a full accompt of sorrow, or paid his memory a years just rent of Tears: But I appeal to my own heart; and you my Lord can say—

De Flame.

Your heart has been but too Severe unto it self, And I can say, I have not seen a beam, break from those eyes, but through dark Clouds and showres; Or like the Sun, drencht in the swelling Main; [Page 10] Nor a Look with the least Comfort of a Smile in't; Nay, Divinest Madam; Now you do but Chide Heaven in your Tears; and cannot Raise the dead.

Claudilla.

True Sir.

De Flame.

Tears are but shallow murmurs of our Grief. I envy not his Grave a Tear, but owe all Noble mention to't; yet Madam, I did hope You had discharged the smart and Cruelty of Grief from your soft breast: And would call your beauties to their Natural springs:— Look on your self (rare Lady) in this change With what high Flame and Rapture it becomes you: So breaks the Morning forth of a christal Cloud; And so the Sun ascends his glittering Chair, And from his burnisht Locks shakes day about; The Summer puts not on more delights and various Glory, than shines in bright Claudilla; And shall the Grave exhaust their pride and Youth?—

Enter Torguina.
Torguina.

Madam, the Kings Brother gives you a visit.

De Flame.

Who's with 'em?

Torg.

The Collonel, your Lordship calls Friend.

De Flame.

Dessandro?

Claudilla.

Let's meet 'um Sir.—

[Exeunt.]

Actus Secundus, Scena Prima.

Enter the Duke, Dutchesse, Cleara, De Flame, Dessandro, Attendants.
Duke.

I'm in Arrears yet unto your Grace.

Claud.

A Widows entertainment Sir, you please to honour.

Duke.

I wish the hours but short that brings the Night [Page 11] you are to lose that Name in; And then, to what Length your own desires woo'd spin um: Widow, Madam? Ther's disconsonancy in the Name, me thinks: Claudilla Widow? Dutchesse, and still Widow (like a Cypresse cast or'e a bed of Lillies) darkens your other Titles; 'Tis a weed in your Garden, and will spoil the Youth and beauty it grows nigh: A word of Mortality, or a Memento Mori, to all Young Ladies: And a Passing Bell to Old ones: Indeed, it is a meer Privation; and all Widows are in the state of Out-lawes, till Married again.

Claudilla.

Your Highness holds a merry opinion of us Poor Widows.

De Flame.

I say Virgins are the Ore; Widows the Gold try'd, and Refin'd.

Duke.

A Fair young Lady and Widow, is A rich piece of Stuff Rumpled: An Old one's A blotting Paper: A Man shall never write any thing on, she sinks so. Dessandro? your Comment.

De Flame.

Friend, you are dull oth' sudden.

Cleara.

He is not well.

Claudilla.

Not well, Sir?

Dessandro.

Not well Madam.

Duke.

Dull? Shall's to Tennis? I have sore Pissollets will pay your borrowed time, Dessandro.

Dessandro.

Your Pardon Sir; I am unfit to wait on you; My life hangs in a Dew upon me; And I have drunk Poison.

De Flame.

Ha? A Physician with all speed; Dessandro?

Cleara.

Dear Sir?

Dessandro.

Cleara? Lend me thy hand—So— I'm struck upon a Rock.—

[Sounds.]
Cleara.

He's dead; I shall not overtake him.

Duke.

Look to the Lady.

Claud.

He swells like a stopt Torrent, or a Teeming Cloud; [Page 12] Have I no Servants there?—

[Carry him off.]
De Flame.

What a sudden storm is fall'n?

Duke.

How fares the Lady?

Claudilla.

Madam?

Cleara.

As you are tender Natur'd, let no hand Close his eyes but mine: I am come back thus far to take my farewel on his cold Lip.

[De Flame returns]
De Flame.

Sister, Let thy warm blood flow back: Thy Dessandro lives, my Girle.

Cleara.

Oh! may I not see him?

De Flame.

You shall.

[Exeunt.]
Duke.

Give me leave to make this opportunity happy on your hand: How? Not vouchsafe it?

[Dutchess goes off.]

What a Tyranny shot from her scornful eye? Where have I lost my self and her? There's a crosse, and Peevish Genius haunts my Hopes; A Black and envious Cloud; and I must get above it; Not kisse your hand? Is your blood surfeited? I'le quit this scorn: Indeed, I will, Coy Madam: Thou, that art Lord of my proud Horoscope; Great Soul of Mysteries; kindle my brain with thy immortal fires— That if I fall, my Name may Rise Divine, So Casar's Glory set, and so set Mine.—

[Exit.]
Enter Silliman, a Bottle tyed in a Ribbon to his Pocket.
Silliman.

Brave Canary; Intelligent Canary, that does refresh our weak and mortal bodies; I will have thee Canoniz'd Saint Canary, at my own Charge: And call my eldest Son Canary: Yet for a man to love thee at his own Cost is damnable, very Damnable, and I defie it— And Siss is the blithest Lasse in our Town For she sells Ale by the Pound and the Dozen; Ale? hang Ale.

Enter a Messenger.
Messenger.

By your Worships leave, I wou'd speak with [Page 13] Seign'or Silliman, the Dutchesse Steward, an't like ye.

Silli.

Wou'd you speak with Seignior Silliman, an't like ye?

Messenger.

Please God, and your Worship, an't like ye.

Sill.

In what Language wou'd you speak with him—

[hum.]
Messenger.

Yes verily, I wou'd speak with him, an't like ye.

Silliman.

At what Posture?

Messenger.

Marry from a friend, an't like ye.

Silliman.

Very good, my friend: Didst ever say thy

[drinks

Prayers in the Canary tongue?

Mess.

My Prayers, an't like ye? Your Worship's dispos'd to be merry: I have a Wife and seven small Children, an't like ye, to wind, and turn, as they say, simple as your Worship sees me here, an't like ye.

Silliman.

Pox a Wives; I'le not give a Gazet for thy wife; she's tough, and too much Powder'd: Fetch me thy Daughter, thy youngest Daughter, Sirrah, If the Creature be a Virgin and desirable: Look ye! There's money to buy her Clean Linen: I'le have a Bath of rich Carnary, and Venus milk, where we will bath, and swim together, like so many Swans, and then be Call'd Seignior Jupiter Sillimano. But is she Mans meat? I have a tender Appetite, and can scarcely digest one in her Teens.

Mes.

Do's your worship think I wou'd be a Judas, an't like ye? She's as neat a Girle, and as Tite at her businesse as the back of your hand, an't like ye: But Heaven blesse ye, and Cry ye mercy: If you be his Worship here's a Letter from the Lady De Prate, an't like ye.

Silliman.

The Lady De Prate (mark me Sirrah) is a Noble Lady; we say so.—

[reads a letter.]

I never knew what Bondage was till now, I fear the Gilded Hart you sent me was inchanted—(oh—oh) I long to see you— —(hum—hum) therefore let me have the happinesse to know the Place and Time—(even so) as you love her that blushes to write this— [Page 14] Yes, yes, I'le Inchant ye: I'le Time and Place ye: Surely, there's something more about me, then I can perceive: Grant that I may bear my Fate discreetly: I never knew what Bondage was—

[reads.]

till now: Well; 'Tis Heavens Goodnesse: For what am I silly wretch, to such a Lady as she that writes so pitifully unto me: It wou'd over-come e'en a heart

[weeps.]

of Flint: Good Gentlewoman— As you love her that blushes to write this—

[reads.]

hum—yes, yes; she knows I love her: It will work—I can't contain my good nature.—

[drinks & weeps
Enter La Gitterne, and De Loome.
De Loome.

Here he is, and stands like a Map of sundry Countries.

La Gitterne.

One wou'd take him for some forraign beast, and that Fellow to shew him; how the Gander Ruffles and Prunes himself, as if he would tread the Goose by him?

De Loome.

'Tis a pure Goat.

La Gitt.

And will clamber a Pyramide in sent of's Female.

De Loome.

The Wenches sware he kisses like a Giant still, and will ride his heats as Cleanly, as a dieted Gelding: Let's fall in: Seignior Silliman! My best wishes kisse your hand.

La Gitt.

Continue me worthy the Title of your Servant Sir.

Silliman.

I am very glad to see you well, and hope you are in good health, and sound Gentlemen.

La Gitterne.

And when shall's draw Cutts again for a Wench, Seignior, hah?

Silliman.

Your pleasure to say so.

De Loome.

The Slave's rose drunk, o' my life.

Sill.

Please you to take Notice of my worthy Friend here.

De Loome.

Your Admirer, Sir.

[salutes Messenger.]
La Gitterne.

Slave to your Sedan, Sir.

Mess.

God blesse the good Dutchess, and all that love the King, I say Gentlemen, an't like ye.

De Loome.

Pray Sir, what News abroad, or at Court?

Messenger.

News, quoth a? Indeed Sir, the truth is, I am a [Page 15] Shooemaker by my Trade; My Name is Latchet; And I work to some Ladies in the House here, though I say't my self; And yet the Times were never harder, nor Leather dearer.

De Loom.

This winter will make amends; you shall have horse hides cheap; horse hides, dog cheap.

Latchet.

Cheap? quoth a; Why Sir, I'le tell you (for you look like a very honest Gentleman) I am put to finde a Pike my self; and must, the Parish swears, or lose all the Shooes in my Shop.

De Loom.

'Tis very brave: Why you look like a Champion And have a Face, the Parish may Confide in.

Latchet.

Fide? quoth a; Sir; be Judge your self, if ever you knew the like: I have been at the Trade this forty years, off and on: and those Childrens shooes I have sold for six pence, or a groat, upon some occasion, we now sell for twelve pence, as they say.

De Loome.

Then the misery is, you get the mo [...]e.

Latchet.

More? quoth a; Pray Sir a word? you are a Courtier, if I may be so bold: They say we must all be fain to shut up shop, and mortgage our Wives to the Souldiers: D' ye hear any such talk, Sir?

De Loom.

Some buzzing: but the blades will not accept'um without special articles, and a stock of money, and plate to keep the babies they shall beget valiant.

Latchet.

Valiant? quoth a; Truly Sir, I'le tell ye, on the truth of a poor man: My Lady De Prates foot is but of the sixes; and yet we pay five Pistols A Dicker.

Silliman.

My Ladies foot but oth' sixes? you lye Sirrah; By Saint Hugh, there's never a Lady ith' Land has a Prettier Foot and Leg, if you ha not spoil'd um with your Calves skin, Sirrah.

La Gitt.

Why? the sixes is a good han'som size for a Lady.

Latchet.

Lady? quoth a; my life for hers, there's few Ladies ith' Court goes more upright: Nor payes better, I'le say that.

Silliman.
[Page 16]

You say that? Foh; I scorn to wear an inch of leather thy Nasty flesh shall handle.

De Loom

Oh, your worthy friend, Signior; and an elder in's parish; A Pike-man too, for the Republique: Come, come, A shall be Shoomaker to us all: Canst trust?

Latchet.

Trust? quoth a; My Name's Latchet, Sir, I serv'd Eleven years to my Vocation, before I could be free: and have drank many a good bowl of Beerith' Dutchesses Cellar, since that.

De Loome.

I like a man can answer so punctually to a thing,

Latchet.

Thing? quoth a; It is our Trade, Sir.

De Loom.

Spoke like the Warden of the Company.

[Exeunt.
Enter Claudilla, and Dessandro in a Night Gown.
Claudilla.

I am at extremity of wonder.

Dessandro.

The story may deserve it Lady, when you shall Cast your thoughts upon the Man it Treats on, the Circumstances, and progresse of my Love: Nay, it may raise your Anger bigher than your wonder, and work the modest pantings of your breast into a Hectique Rage: I saw this tempest gather'd in a Cloud dismal and black, ready to break its wombe in stormes upon me: And I have cast my Soul on every Frown and horror you can arm your passion with: I have held conflict with the wilder Guilt and tremblings of my blood to rescue it: But Heaven, and my angry Fate, has thrown me groveling at your feet: And I want soul to break the Charm.

Claudilla.

This is a strange Mystery, to betray my virtue with your own, and I shall sin to hear it.

Dessandro.

If pity be a sin, lock up those beauties from the view of men, or they will damn all the eyes that look upon you.

Claud.

Has your blood lost all the virtue it should inherit? And think you by this treacherous siege to take my Honour in? Let me shun you, or you will talk me Leperous.

Dessandro.

Do Madam— [Page 17] Tear up the wounds your eyes have made— Ile keep them bleeding Sacrifices to your Cruelty; And when cold death has cast his gloomy shade o're this dust, perhaps you may bestow one gentle sigh to hallow it; when you shall know The height of my desires was but to dye worthy of your pardon, without the ambition of a bolder thought; And still had scorch'd, and smother'd here without a Tongue, only to beg your mercy to my Grave.

Claudil.

Play not your self into a shame will rust your brightest worths, and hide your Dust in Curses, and black Fame: I now shall think your valour Flatter'd, that can sink it to such effeminate and Love sick Crafts for our stale Women to mollifie the Usher with. Dessandro has a Fame, high and active as the voice it Flies on: And could you wander from your religious self in such a Dream as this? Cleara's virtue has an Interest neer your heart should wake you to your first man again.

Dess.

Cleara still is here in the first Sculpture of her virtues, and I their honourer.

Claudilla.

No more!— My grief and shame are passionate to find so much bad man, got neer your heart, and shew this sick Complexion in your honour, more tainted then the Face of your Imposture— you have plaid the excellent counterfeit, and your skill does make you proud, you cannot blush.—

[Exit.]
Dessandro.

She's gone;— A Star shot from her eye, and lightned through my blood: I must provide for Thunder, and thy Revenge De Flame, as horrid as thought can shape it.

Enter Cleara.
Cleara.

Sir?

Dessandro.

Proud Love? I'll meet thee with burning sighes and bleeding Turtles at thy shrine.

Cleara.

This is too bold a hazzard for your health, which yet sits wan and troubled on your Cheek.

Dessandro.
[Page 18]

Madam?

Cleara.

Indeed I'll chide ye.

Dessandro.

Oh, Cry ye mercy;—some retired meditations.

Cleara.

I shall observe 'um, Let me but leave you with the Joy to know I stand not in the hazzard of that Frown.

Dessandro.

We'll kisse next time.

Cleara.

Sir?

Dessandro.

Or never.

Cleara.

Ha? de'e know me?

Dessandro.

So well, me thinks we should not part so soon: our hearts have been more ceremonious, and hung in panting sighs upon our Lips to bid adieu: one kisse must now summe up all, and seal their General Release: I know Cleara more constant to her virtue, and brave mind, then to ask heaven idle questions—'Tis Fate, not Will—

[Exit.]
Cleara.

So— I feel thy Marble hand lye here: 'Tis cold and heavy: how my poor heart throbs under it, and struggles to find Air? Not one kind sigh lend thee a gale for yonder haven?—It's gone— Quite vanisht—beshrew me, it was a most horrible apparition, I wou'd not see it again in such a cruel look for all my hopes; yet it held me gently by the hand, and left a warm farewell there, as my Dessandro us'd: As my Dessandro? said I? oh! how fain my hopes would mock my apprehension; and that my sorrow? I'le woe thy pity with my Groans kind earth, and lay my throbbing breast to thine until I am dissolv'd into a Spring, whose Murmures shall eternally repeat this Minutes story.

Enter De Flame.
De Flame.

Ha?—

Cleara

drown'd in her own Tears? Sister? Cleara?

Cleara

I had a gentle slumber; and all the world (me thought) was in [...] midnight Calm.

De Flame.

Dear Girl. [...] up those sad eyes & my cold doubts. Prethee tell me, is our Dessandro dead?

Cleara.
[Page 19]

Heaven defend.

De Flame.

Not? what then in all the volumes of black destiny and nature, can throw you into this posture?— Unkind Cleara; why dost dissemble it? I see him breathlesse on thy Cheek, and lost.

Cleara.

Lost for ever.

De Flame.

My fears did prompt me so; For ever?— there's horrour and amazement in the thought: See Cleara; my eyes can over-take thee: Gone at so short a farewel friend? Death, thou art the murderer of all our joyes and hopes.

Cleara.

Sir, Dessandro's well; very well; we parted even but now.

De Flame.

What?

Cleara.

Oh Brother? I have lost a jewell that he gave me and I shall vex my eyes out.

De Flame.

Beshrew this serious folly: you have vext my blood into a sullen fit.

Cleara.

You shall not chide me— Tell me? didst ever in thy life meet with a Grief that made thy poor heart sick, and did divide thy sleeps and hours into groans and sighs?

De Flame.

Never; thank my indifferent Fate.

Cleara.

Nor in the Legend of some Injur'd Maid that made thine eye to pause, and with a Tear bedew it.

De Flame.

I cannot untie Ridled knots, Cleara.

Cleara.

Come; I'le but dry mine eyes, and tell you a story that shall deserve a groan.—

[Exeunt.]

Actus Tertius; Scena Prima.

Enter De Castro, and Dessandro.
Dess.

TUsh— They had only tongue & malice; and that great Zeal [Page 20] the seem'd to owe to Rome, was unto themselves, and their own Estates; what were they, but wranglers in Schools and Law? and studied words to make men guilty. They liv'd at ease; and slept in purples and warm furrs; But bold minded Cataline, threatned their wise sleeps.

De Castro.

There was too much attempt and fact in't.

Dessandro.

'Twas fact then to look sowre on a Gown-man: they were meer Citizens: Jealous of their Wives, and Daughters: That Condemn'd um too:—

De Castro!

there's a Lethargy in our blood: We sleep and dream away our Lives. If such wore purple for well talking, what shal he merit that Cures the wounds and smart his Country groans with?

De Cast.

The People shall enshrine his Name with Reverence, and fill their Temples with his Statues: 'Tis the great end we are all born to.

Dessandro.

Which can't be, whilst by-respect shall closely wound the bosome of our Laws and Freedome: For what was't Lesse, that took our Father's life?

De Castro.

In whose blow, the heads of all brave men were threatned.

Dessandro.

Then if we dare not do a general good, yet let us secure our own dear lives and honours.

De Castro.

The State is full of dangerous whispers.

Dessandro.

There's an Impostume swells it.

De Castro.

Wou'd 'twere lanc'd.

Dessandro.

Spoken with the soul of Cassius; we have the cure, and may do it with a little stir: But then we must deal like true Physicians of State, And where we find it ulcer'd, though in our selves, friends, and allies, not lay soft effeminate hands on't: Nature has made us nearest to our selves: And I wou'd pay the last warm drop of blood from all these veins to see the hopes and honours of our blood (that's now benightned in our Fathers fate) dawn on De Castro's youth again.

De Castro.

No Dessandro; Those hopes are lost upon a high [Page 21] and angry sea: And I must see fools and stale Parasites (whose Progeny ne're bled one drop, nor had a valiant thought to serve their Country) begin A spurious Issue on my birth-right, that will, on Tiptoes Collossus like, bestride us and graspe our Fate.

Dessandro.

Take me into thy bosome, brave man; we meet Like Amorous streams, and as we ought; our honour, life, and fortunes, have but one hea [...]t: Give me thy hand De Castro; This Sword—

[draws.]

our Father h [...]th oft made Glorious in the blood of De Castro's foes: And I'll not doubt, how much it prompts thy valiant soul: Oh Brother! Tears, and some sad discourse is all that we have paid him yet: Strangers can be far braver in their sence unto his Fame: The tears we ought to shed, ought to be blood, De Castro; Blood, warm from their veins, that made us weep in streams, and mingle it with the dust of vulgar feet, as they did his. Swear by all the Glorious acts of our great Ancestry, their hallowed Urnes, our Fathers injur'd memory, and all the hopes and honour we derive from them, to pay his blood a sad accompt in some revenge, worthy his Ghost, and our bold hands.

De Castro.

All which religiously, I vow to.

Dess.

And I: So; Now we are Brothers by as strong Divinitie as Nature: I'll not break open the design, till we shall hear't confirm'd by higher warrant: Anon, meet at the Dutchesse Dowager's.

De Castro.

Claudilla's?

Dessandro.

Yes, where you shall hear something worthy the encouragement of our Fathers spirit in thee: I am now to wait upon the Duke; he that keeps us what we are.

De Castro.

The Duke?—I have the Game in view, and now discern, what I must pay him for my Place.

Dessandro.

You are full of thoughts, my Lord.

De Castro.

Brother, our Lives are on the Cast: But 'tis not that does interpose 'um: There's something in my fears [Page 22] still presents Cleara; Take heed Dessandro—A Virgins tears leave sad and Fatal prints.

Dessandro.

Your wishes are a brothers: but those dreams chill not my sleeps: Think on that concerns us near And be Active.

De Castro.

I shall not fail ye: Farewel.—

[Exit De Cast.]
Enter Pirez.
Pirez.

Collonel Dessandro?

Dessandro.

Your Lordships pardon: Which way walk you?

Pirez.

As you please to dipose me: My businesse now defigns it so: 'Tis there in short—

[gives a paper which Dessandro reads.]

I love his gallant mastery of a mans self: I look'd his temper wou'd a flam'd about my ears: Not a sparkle in his brow, nor the least change of blood. Strange! I have seen him ruffl'd into a storm, and all fury: Now, not a frown nor smile.

Dessandro.

De Flame?—well— My Lord, this is a down flat Challenge.

Pirez.

I brought it for one.

Dess.

I accept it, with thanks to your Lordship, and shall be ready to serve you in any power I have.

Pirez.

'Tis not worth it, Collonel.

Dess

The Lord De Flame's angry, it seems that fortune should give me right without his hand in't, h'as turn'd his style high and strangely on me: But I shall coolly respite that, till we have room to argue it. That he is far more worthy his expectation in the Dutchesse, I can Confesse: that's no assent Sir to my quarrel; nor yet a law to her: For those whom her thoughts please to think most worthy, are so to her.

Pirez.

But does not bind the opinion of another.

Dessandro.

Nor that opinion her Freedome.

Pirez.

Yet there be rules in virtue, from which all noble Judgements should take their Level, even in love it self.

Dessandro.

If it be thought she's too partial in her grace to me, I shall dispute it, as 'tis questioned.

Pirez.

I come not to add exceptions or to make any.

Dessandro.

I stand not in so cheap a Rank, but that her [Page 23] favour may make my services as meritorious as his Lordships: And can engage as much blood and Fame for't.

Pirez.

You know him of a Noble breast, and one that will not slatter weak pretences into Truths, nor let um work with such impressions on his Soul, did not his Honour bleed in't? Sir, I come as one that ever honour'd your great parts, and wish that you could think on't o're again: Think how black you must expect that morn to rise upon your wishes, When you lead her to the Altars; where the faint Lights with blew and Gastly Flames, will receive ye; And all the things of Holy Ceremony Present pale Glim'rings to your eyes, to fright your Bride back unto her first vows: And then, me thinks, each Tear and Groan the Fair Cleara lends to over-take ye, shou'd shew a speaking Fury to untwine your trembling hands.

Dess.

No; Nor all the squadrons hell can spare, to aid them: though her Brother led them on, and you brought up the Rear.

Pirez.

Sir?

Dessandro.

Pish—The meanest thought Claudilla pleases to bestow here (under this humble Guard) must be without the affright (my Lord) of all the dangers in his Muster: Stare they like Giants on me, and in Armies: As for Cleara, If she held flatering glasses to her thoughts which render'd um wide and Airy, they must not forfeit me: you may deserve her better: I'le not start Sir a scruple from his demands, and yours, expect it, and so farewell.—

[going off.]
Pirez.

Farewell?—The Time?

Dessandro.

I shall think on't.

Pirez.

Shall?—It must not so tamely be thought on.

Dessandro.

How?

Pirez.

I spoke it, Sir.

Dessandro.

Are your sent to own the Quarrel?

Pirez.
[Page 24]

No; but look on't with so much Soul, as I think't as honour to wear a Sword in't.

Dessandro.

Go; Go hang it in your Mistresses Chamber, It stink▪ Sir of Perfume.

Pirez.

It may Sir (for Destiny has many wayes to the wood) Cut your throat; And then Ile giv't your Foot-boy.

Dessandro.

My throat, Pirez? that sawcy thought has ruin'd thee.—

[Fight.]
Enter Sampayo and De Loome.
Sampayo.

Hold, hold, Collonel.

De Loome.

My Lord, y'are hurt.

Pirez.

I must owe him this fort't.

Dessandro.

Canst talk yet?

Samp.

Command your passion: See how the Common herd come Gazing in: do not become their talk and wonder: Noble Dessandro? Put up my Lord: —thank ye—

De Loome.

Sir, my Lord Duke sent me to tell ye he expects your Company.

Dessandro.

I wait on him—bid the Ladies tear their clean smocks to wrap you in.

Pirez.

Insolent Man.

Sampayo.

Again?—

[Exeunt.]
Enter 3 Townsmen as Watch.
1.

Was not I about to tell you so? they wou'd be afraid of True men when we came.

2.

Ber Lady, but that mun not serve their Turns; For we must know flatly which was Plantan, & which Defendam or we shall discharge but a sorry Conscience to the Kings Justice.

1.

I'll take my Oath upon the Corporal Bible, I saw two glittering Swords run a Tilt, and two to that, if need be.

2.

Neighbors, I cannot tell; we are old men, or shou'd be at least; some of us have lived threescore years and upwards in a Parish, as they say, I name no body; and [Page 25] therefore it is good to be sure, & make all our tales bonum fidrum▪ For we are not all one mans Children: And yet, if I be not mistaken, I am sure I saw three more, and Glittering ones indeed, as you call them: God bless every good man and woman from the like: they e'en earn'd my heart, and yet by my Fay, I am a hundred and two, come the time.

3.

You tawke like sucking Infants: Neighbours, I'll be sworn If I were to take my oath before the best man living, High or low, there was twenty drawn swords, little and great; I'm sure, I might a seen um, like a fool, had I been worth my head; but my little boy Jack did.

1.

La there; And that same's a murrain wise boy, if you mark him; and will see a thing, I warrant you, as soon as the wisest of us all, were he twice as old again.

3.

I could a seen too at his bignesse, for all I'm Lame now, God help us; you remember the Powder Plot.

2.

Powder Plot? quoth a; I shall not forget while the world stands.

1.

Nor I, were I to die a thousand deaths.

3.

That very day was I working in our Garret.

2.

Say you so?

1.

Nay, Neighbours beshrew me this may be true, for I have known this man here, able to do as tite a dayes work by noon, as the tallest fellow the King keeps (God blesse him) take him from top to toe.

3.

All's one for that; mark me; There has not been a glasse-window there, time out of mind, since I came, nor after: And I tell you truely (I'm a false Liar else) I smelt the Powder as hot as if it had been done the next day.

1.

See, see, the wind; the wind neighbours is much God blesse us.

3.

Go too; I am no made fool, though a born fool my Masters; True, the wind may be something as you say: but if there had not been something else, I wou'd not give a fart for't: I did not work at Court with a Master Carpenter, for nothing, my boyes; and see the Kings Grace fasting and full

[Page 26]

as I did, to a hairs breadth, as they say: Let me alone for Casting my Cards, give me but ground enough; And yet I can neither write nor read, Heaven make me thankful.

2.

Heaven make us all thankful; I have seen the King too, in my Prime, and gave him a beck upon his milk-white Steed, as near as one shud say what's this, and all his Royal Lords and Ladies sporting.

1.

I, I, those were the dayes (peace be with um) a poor mans tale might be heard at Court: There is some Lords and Ladies now, were lowsie then.

3.

Go thy wayes, by the Rood; Nay, he'l have his old tawk, for all the world, up and down.

1.

It was ever my condition; I care not who knows it; And yet I never scath't the least sucking Child that begs his bread: but little does another man know where the Kings shooe wrings him, but those that wear it, as my Mother would often say, and she liv'd long enough to know it.

3.

Nay that's certain; The King's but a Man, as we three are; No more is the Queen, if you go to that: Did you never hear of my Uncles observations? he's but a poor knave (as they call him) but such a knave as Cares neither for King nor Kaesar, the Least on um.

1.

Then he may be hanged, Neighbour Palmer.

3.

If he be, he's not the first that has been hang'd for Treason, I hope.

[Exeunt.]
Enter the Duke, and Claudilla.
Duke.

That frown was shot with pretty tyranny from your brow; but this kisse shall sacrifice me to my Claudilla's bosome.

Claud.

You'l sully your honour in't: widows are but rumpl'd stuff.

Duke.

That again? by all my hopes, and by thy self, the next and greatest—

Claudilla.

Your Brothers Crown's betwixt us.

Duke.

I did it but to sharp De Flame, into some [Page 27] expression of his Wit and Love.

Claudilla.

Alas! he sighs all.

Duke.

And like some Crude Chaplain, spits most of his mind.

Claudilla.

Yet the Tame Dove can Tire me sometimes with pen'd speeches, when we're alone, and flatter; I'm resolvd to bestow him on my woman.

Duke.

Now he can come to hand:—ha, ha▪ thinking men never Love heartily, unlesse they be dank Powder.

Claudilla.

His Courtship is like thick Embroidery upon slight stuff. I must confesse, I never lov'd the man; onely as a Rich Gown out of Fashion, for a dayes change sometimes at home when I take Physick.

Duke.

You may wear him as you please, and to what purpose; his honest nature was meant you so: but Dessandro is the Man of Men (I must confesse) that I could wish most near you now.

Claudilla.

Dessandro!

Duke.

And suddenly, before your honour blush too palpably: I have discovered him, and his devotions.

Claudilla.

Then your brains was in his Plot.

Duke.

'Twas his own.

Claudilla.

Stolen from some Romance or Play, but for De Flame.

Duke.

One wheel will move another to the Period.

Claudilla.

Methinks his soft and easie spirit should be the fitter Engin, and more pliant to your Aim.

Duke.

He has too much of Venus in his mixture; all his desires wou'd be at home still, in the circle of those eyes: the other is all Fire and thinks that Fame too cheap that's found so near; And there will want such men abroad.

Claudilla.

But, where's my honour, Duke?

Duke.

Lock'd in my heart and Cares: the King must die Claudilla, to smooth the way, and lift us to our wishes.

Claudilla.

That still is talk'd on.

Duke.

His last Glasse is now turn'd, and runs apace: [Page 28] He gives thee to Dessandro; and is your Guest: and that Night receives eternal thanks for't: Then (my Fair) Dessandro cannot want lustre and honour for your bed: Nor thy commands what all Castile can give.

Claudilla.

I understand not, Sir.

Duke.

Thou shalt in time; oh my Claudilla! my best and neerest Joy, our Loves have been entire as a flame: one Center to our thoughts and wishes, and Crown our bosomes with delight and safety—but they are come—

Enter De Castro and Dessandro.
Claudilla.

I have not known so little of his Fame— to be a stranger to his worth: Sir I honour it: Nor am I so proud and dark in my opinion, to think I stand upon my self, but stoop in honour to one of his deserts and blood: This is the way, my Lord, I ever sum'd up Man, and sets his Titles down but for Cyphers.

De Castro.

Observe.

Duke.

Which will most clearly shew his merits, and heighten them in value to you: For, Madam, look on him in the Spring of his deserts, and you'l say, Titles are but narrow Spheres: And if honoured actions be the soul and breath, he's then above them and stands in the First Rank of men.

Dessandro.

I shall want life to pay this debt.

Claudilla.

But with your Graces favour, I must be tender here, For I stand a tall Mark to Voice and Censure, and need not tell your Highnesse with what strong expectation the Count De Flame hath long time visited me.

Duke.

If you will stand engaged, Madam— I am silent.

Claudilla.

No Sir—But—

Duke.

You expect honour, and Fortune to your Bed: I know Castile ownes not a Subject (I'll not except my self, and had I anothers Freedome, I should not speak my wishes in a second person) that [Page 29] Looks not with Ambition on you: But Madam, weigh them all: Take but off their Grains of fortune he shall hoist them into the air: And to my wish, he's come—Dessandro, your name was mentioned happily, I hope—Let me present his value, to your Graces hand: And to a Sister, Madam, I wou'd say, her bosome.

De Castro.

You purchase our poor Lives too highly, Sir

Duke.

I wou'd have rich Jewels set to their worth, and shall be proud to give any advantage unto his: The Dutchesse shall not slight me in't: I will be heard against the proudest Courtship that shall charm her. Come my Lord, what sport will you win some Duckats at?

De Castro.

I will lose some at any your Grace pleases.

Duke.

My Brother has got a fortunate hand of late 'gainst all the Court: I cannot rise at even terms from him.

De Castro.

I saw him draw deep from your Grace, last night.

Duke.

Two thousand Duckats; but I expect um with interest again.

Dessandro.

I cannot pawn my self to the unworthy ends of Flattery and Complement: but this honour out-bids value of a thousand Lives: what this poor glimpse of expression can shew me in: Saints, are not more unfained in their prayers, then I to serve you.

Claudilla.

I shall not doubt how much I may be indebted to your Noble wishes: but let me add, Sir, He that Layes out for me without my warrant, shall scarcely put it on my accompt for thanks, much lesse, Debt.

Dessandro.

Not good devotions?

Claudilla.

Them I desire, and shall repay.

Dessandro.

Then pay back mine.

Claudilla.

I'm not to learn my prayers, Sir.

Dessandro.

Teach me yours, that I may turn the virtue of their charms back to your bosome.

Claudilla.

Collonel, mine wou'd hardly please you: I never pray for wars.

Duke.
[Page 30]

You have back-friends, my Lord.

De Castro.

That some malignant cloud does interpose the Kings cheerful Favour, I am most sensible.

Duke.

It wou'd spread to me too, if they durst.

De Castro.

Had they but so much virtue left, they durst own their names by, I shou'd make pale envy blush.

Duke.

Come, we'll to Cards; and leave them to parl.

[Exeunt.]
Dessandro.

Madam, but mean it in a smile.

Claudilla.

What?

Dessandro.

Love.

Claudilla.

Fie.

Dessandro.

Yet stay; The air has busie wings: but give the thought Consent: and I will take it in soft whispers from your Lip.

Claudilla.

You will.

Dessandro.

I feel it creep in Flames through all my blood.

Enter De Flame.
Claudilla.

Sir, the Count De Flame.

Dessandro.

With a black Evening in his face.

De Flame.

Oh! my faithful Achilles, I came to give you Joy.

Claudilla.

Who? me, Sir!

De Flame.

My virtuous friend, and you.

Claudilla,

Of what?

De Fl.

Of your entertainment under him: y'have a brave Com­mander and he a—I cannot be angry enough to tell you what.

Claudilia.

I begin to doubt his Wits, he looks so Gastly.

De Flame.

Yes; I see a Devil in those eyes that makes my hair. stare upward, False woman: My love durst scarce doubt before, what now I find, and tremble at. But Heaven has wrath in Ambush, and Scorpions stings.

Claudilla.

For what? my Lord.

De Flame.

Dutchesse, thy Perjury, and warm engagements to this—this huge Impostor.

Claudilla.

Sir, a has Crack'd his brains with Poetry— pray forgive him—

Dess.
[Page 31]

Count? you know what privilege this Roof can give you, on my Anger; or else, I should make your Frenzy Tonguelesse: Don't requite it barbarously on her that gives you leave to live by it: gather your scatter'd wits up: Goe home Sir, and Repent.

De Flame.

Privilege?— I'le, meet thee in a Ring of flames, or on the Tempest of some billow, upon whose back the raging North wind strides: Yet I'de not ha' thee lose one spark of thy full man in Noise and Air: that when next we greet, I may find thee worthy my Revenge. This Frailty, now protects thee.

Claudilla.

Uncivill man! know the way back, or I shall let that Justice loose upon yee, you deserve.

De Fl.

Your Centaure there, you mean; he must stare bigger to move a hair of mine.

Claudilla.

Yee sha' not stir, Sir: As you love me do not: Let him die Mad.

De Flame.

Do; kisse him; and clap his Cheek.

Claudilla.

And circle him in my Arms from your Pale envy; does that make you some—Look yee—

[Kisses Dessandro.]
De Flame.

He shall not blossome there.

Claudilla.

A shall, though thou dost bribe the Fayries with thy soul.

Dess.

Madam, your Commands will hold me till I scorch away; I am in Flames, and Torment: And there's not so much mercy under heaven, but your own, would let him use that Tongue a minute longer. Thou hast seen this Sword reeking from Hilt to Point, and sweating showres of Blood o're thy head, whil'st I bestrid thy life and Rescu'd it 'gainst many gallant Foes, And durst thou tempt it to thine own throat now? Prethee begone; And let's meet no more There's something in thy youth I still can love; and will forget to call thee to accompt for this; be wise unto thy self; And ask this Lady Pardon.

De Flame.

Oh my Blood! must I bear this? I am more cold then Marble sure.

Claudilla.
[Page 32]

Within there? where's his Grace?

Servant.

At Cards, Madam.

De Fla.

Oh cry yee mercy; your bak'd meats sha'not cool for me; I only wish that they may choak yee: That paper Sir I sent, wou'd be worth your noble Answer.

Dessandro.

'Tis there again, and has stop'd the use I took it for.

De Flame.

Ha?—I'll make thy Name a boys Play, and kill thee on the threshold of thy dore.

Dessandro.

Goe, goe, and take your Rest: when you are recovered, I may own you.

De Fl.

Thou hast not Blood enough to answer this—

[Exeunt.]
Enter Pirez and Sampayo.
Sampayo.

You tell me strange ones.

Pirez.

But true ones.

Sampayo.

Nice windings.

Pirez.

This Duke can strangely back his purposes where they like him: 'Tis a fair lift to Dessandro's fortune: his stars shin'd.

Sampayo.

True; sh'has a spacious Fortune; But I shall tell your Lordship, what perhaps you know not.

Pirez.

You may.

Sampayo.

She has no blood: From her first, an honest Trades-mans wife, who left her very rich and handsome: The Duke (as he still keeps a kennell for that purpose) had her presented to him for his Game: Remov'd her from the Cucko'os nest into another Sphere, but with all Caution, and private slight: And you must Imagine, now she spreads a larger wing stirs not abroad, but studded like the Night, with Flames: And at length becomes the Courts discourse and wonder; but still kept the Country her retiring place.

Pirez.

Unknown?

Sampayo.

Or unsuspected, as the Dukes Instruments dealt it: And the young Henriques being in those parts [Page 33] with our Kings brother for sport, casually (as 'twas plotted) visits her house: Falls in love and marryed her: This is the Epitomie.

Pirez.

I hope the Duke Bereo, had no dull hand in't.

Sampayo.

'Tis thought (only by me Sir) keeps his acquaintance to this day.

Pirez.

It must be Fatally answered some where; heaven has a Justice.

Sampayo.

The Preparation makes huge Noise.

Pirez.

'Tis well the King's a Guest; Their Triumph might miscarry else.

Sampayo:

The King gives her in Church: Methinks the Count De Flame, must needs be all Flame at it; And I believe Sir, your affront bleeds freshly in him.

Pirez.

It must be put to an Accompt somewhere.

Sampayo.

To return his Challenge and honour with such a scorn must work such a spirit to high extremes.

Pirez.

The saddest story is his Sister.

Sampayo.

A Rose new Blown, and flung aside to wither in her sweets; Poor Innocence; That has much chang'd my opinion of Dessandro.

Pirez.

His Resolution, and Ambition, are like vast Trees whose spreading tops hide their own Roots from the kind Sun.

Sampayo.

Let out unto so vast a Pride, as shades all his natural virtues, or makes 'um grow up rank and sower: The event will tell us all.

Pi.

I wish it without blood. Your Lorships for the Solemnity?

Sampayo.

My Attendance ties me to his Majesties Person.

Pirez.

My best wishes to your Lordship.

[Exeunt.]

Actus Quartus, Scena Prima.

LOUD MUSICK.
Enter the King, Cardinall, Duke, Dutchesse, Dessandro, De Castro, Sampayo, Ladies bearing up her Train, Voices, Lutes, they passe over, Manet De Loome and La Gitterne.
De Loome.

SO: By this time the confines Ring of our great Solemnity.

La Git.
[Page 34]

She became his hand bravely, & with so skilful a brow, as if the first Fruits of her honour, were to be gathered yet.

De Loom.

Our Duke will lick his Lips at this nights sport.

La Gitternt.

And wind her up for him, 'twill go hard else.

De Loome.

That shall not hinder our sport, I hope.

La Git.

Expect the Steward and his Bottles, I'le warrant you

De Loom.

The Ladies too? we shall not tickle heartily else.

La Gitterne.

When the great ones are bedded.

De Loome.

I'th old Place?

La Gitterne.

It's Corner Lobby.

Enter De Flame and Cleara disguis'd.
De Flame.

You belong to the Duke De Bereo Sir?

De Loome.

Who told you so?

De Flame.

A Friend that wou'd commend me with a poor suit unto you Sir, if you be Signior De Loome.

De Loome.

But this is no year for suit; Sir.

De Flame.

Mine brings thanks ready told Sir, Look yee? All double Pistolets, Signior.

De Loome.

Sir, I shall try my Power, and be ready in any service te'e, for my friends sake.

De Flame.

De'e know who 'tis?

De Loome.

Hum—No matter; I'le undertake your businesse.

De Flame.

Sir, can you please to pardon some light Gold?

De Loome.

You shall find me a Gentleman in any thing for my friends sake.

De Flame.

Nay Sir, It weighs a hundred pound at all Peradventures.

De Loom.

And I'le tell you one thing of my self Sir, more then perhaps my friend remembred; I am very honest where I take; and every man is not to be trusted with matters of such Consequence: A very Fair purse, I assure you.

De Flame.

Nest and Birds are all your own.

De Loom.

Your business is done, beleev't Sir: Please you to kiss the Kings hand into the bargain?

De Flame.

At fitter opportunity, let me be ambitious of your offer: but I shall woe your Curtesie to be only a looker on now.

De Loome.
[Page 35]

Any thing Sir, you can make worthy your request Nay-I hope you do not wish me forfeit

[Complement for the dore]

good manners—As I'm virtuous—

De Fl.

I am a stranger to the way: Gentlemen? know your selves, I beseech you.

La Gitterne.

To obey you Signior.

De Loome.

Sir you need not speak on't to this man: he's but my Lords Barber: Since you command it so—

[Exeunt De Loome & La Gitterne.]
De Flame.

Light, light Revenge! heave up thy gloomy Tapers that thou may'st see thy smeered Altar shine in blood: Come my Cleara; my better soul, whose gallant mind will leave thy Name in the first place of Women, And raise thee Temples (bravest of thy Sex:) I could expire on thy Cheek, and pay thee reverence my most excellent Sister.

Cleara.

Just heaven, and your brave virtue (my dearest brother) has wak'ned my dull breast and trembling Sex: I do not feel one Pale or Coward thought: but all high, and active to my wish.

De Flame.

I see it Lovely in thy brow, like the Gleaming dawnings of the morne when day first kindles; yet our Presage is fair.

Enter Duke whispering with De Castro.
Cleara.

The Duke—

De Flame.

Now Innocence, guard thy self, the woolf is up: see how mischief teems and quickens on their brow: some black thing is spawning: Night must be Midwife to't: If we stay, my Ponyard will break loose.

[Exeunt.]
Duke.

Who's that?

De Castro.

Some of the Dutchesse Servants, I beleeve Sir.

Duke.

Your hand will lay a new foundation to a Kingdom; And I am busie how to divide it with thee, when we can call it ours.

De Castro.

'Tis his last night with Mankind: The Poison Sir wil doo't so subtilly: whil'st he but holds the Knife, the least warmth attracts, and so dispreads

[Page 36]

it self through his blood and spirits. Not any strugling for't with nature: his life steals from him in a gentle slumber.

Duke.

Grow in my bosome; till you spread to the first honors of your wish: My fortune is too narrow for your merits to whom I owe it, & all my Power, brave friend

[Exeunt.
Enter Steward, Butler, Cook, and Maids.
Steward.

Come my Masters; The great ones shall not have all to themselves: wee'l have a Civil bout or two, to get us a stomach to Bedward, my sweet hearts.

Cook.

Noble Mr. Steward!

Butler.

Brave Mr. Steward!

Cook

The Fire of my respects shall ne're go out unto you.

Butler.

Nor mine be Quench'd.

Steward.

Here Cook? here's a bit for you to lick your Lips at And heer's clean Napery for you Butler

[gives each a wench.]

take it—

A Dance.
Ste.

So, so; I am almost spent; every man to their Function

[Exeunt.]
Enter King, Cardinal, Dessandro, Duke, Dutchesse, Attendants.
King.

The Night begins to frown at our uncivil stay▪ And Hymens Tapers do burn out a pace: Good Night; you shall not stir a foot Dessandro.

Duke.

All the wishes of a Bridall bed Crown your wishes and embraces.

Cardinal.

And all the blessings of true Joy

Duke.

To bed to bed.

[Exeunt.]
Enter De Loome and De Flame.
De Loome.

You are as melancholly as day when Sun sets; I hope you do not doubt my promise.

De Flame.

No.

De Loom.

Ye sha' not: I'll not leave you till the Grant be yours be Confident; And that's more then a Courtier is bound to by his oath. Sir, where are you? why you were living but e'en now; could speak, and sence too: ha' you seen any thing against nature, or stomach? [Page 37] hum—Sweet heart, has thy Master any fits o'th Mother?

[to Clea.

or Falling-sicknesse? Pretty knave; 'tis pity this face was made for breeches.

De Flame.

Ha?

De Loome.

I am glad you are come to your self again.

De Flame.

You are pleasant.

De Loome.

I wou'd ha'you so: I have provided some mirth and good company for you: Please you but spare an idle hour from your sleep, we'll allow't again in the total of your businesse (I must not lose his money) If you can smile you sha'not want a subject: besides, we shall have the wit of a handsome Lady or two, and hear their voices.

Enter Steward, and a Man with bottles.

Look ye Sir! here's the Imprimis of the house Mr. Steward himself, whose Company may be worth your observation—Seigniour Silliman, this Gentleman is a friend of my Lord Dukes; pray let him know he's welcome.

Steward.

I am but the Dutchesses poor Steward Sir, but my place is at your Command, Sir: you sha'not have me Claim kindred of her for all that: yet— Sir Thomas De Loome here, can say something if he please, Sir.

De Flame.

Thank ye Sir.

Steward.

Look ye Sir Thomas! I never fail; here be the perquisites of life and good Company: There's that will elevate voices; come, disburthen thy self, in that Lobbie, my honest rational Camel; Is this Gentleman dumb? he can say nothing but Thank you Sir.

De Loome.

I fear he's Planet-struck.

Steward.

'Tis great pity: yet he makes very gentle signs.

De Flame.

I'm got into a dark and slippery Labyrinth, and grope but by a spark, whilst every pause is fatal —No. It had miscarried; and the Kings presence was a sacred guard: now to break in upon them, were to betray our lives to nothing: sure Heaven will not lose the glory of such a Justice, and by a hand so justly engaged.

Enter La Gitterne, Torguina, and La Prate.
De Loome.

The Ladies; Good Girles; this deserves a double thanks—Here's a Gentleman whose merits may invite him to your acquaintance, Ladies.

Torguina.

I shall ever study that due honour, by all the Ambitiousnesse of your humble Servant, Sir.

La Prate.

You may please to pardon her, whose demerits makes her modest in their expressions to honour you Noble Sir.

De Flame.

You engage a poor Life to your virtue.

De Loome.

What, Ladies? have you put um together for a brave Boy to night?

La Prate.

That's as the Dice run, Sir.

La Gitt.

The Collonel will find a piece of service on't to night

La Prate.

If he put her to the worst, 'twill be worth her pardon being so try'd a Soldier.

Torguina.

If his valour should be short-breath'd, a retreat may be honourable sometimes.

La Prate.

If he fight not flat Coward, and made it in policy.

Torguina.

Sir, we have read over Aristotles Politiques and Polibius, to that purpose.

La Prate.

Who calls Policy the very breath of all war.

Torguina.

And so by your Ladyships good license, in all Battalions, leaguers, skirmishes, sieges, invasions, parlies, treaties, truces, and other cessations.

De Flame.

Excellent Ladies.

De Loome.

For the Theorique.

La Prate.

We can say some thing to the practique too, Seignior.

Torguina.

Both concerning your postures and motions, as which may be necessary for service: her Ladyship has written a small tract for her private experience to shew how they may be reduced, and a Man exercis'd with far lesse trouble, but with as much Activity, and proportion of comfort.

La Prate.

For body▪ and service, Madam?

Torguina.

I mean so: I warrant you this Gentleman understands me.

De Flame.
[Page 39]

And will not your goodnesse bestow it on the publique? It would rank your Name amongst the illustrious benefactors of the general Cause.

La Prate.

I know not what I may Sir, when the Press is fit for a woman of my Quality: Is this Gentleman a Soldier?

De Flame.

That ambition has grown with me from the Cradle, Madam.

La Prate.

I shall render my self with more endeerment to your worth, and ever subscribe to Soldiers as the bravest Men.

De Loome.

The Dutchesse, I hope will use of your opinion; But Madam, had I the use of that key for an hour or two, I would take some notes in short-hand behind the hangings.

La Prate.

You wou'd?

De Loome.

Yes indeed, my precious wit, I shou'd.

De Flame.

That Key?

Torguina.

Seignior? pleaseth you to think our humble invitation, worthy the grant of your society.

De Flame.

I could wish the trouble of ten lives more, to be accepted in your Command, Fairest of Ladies,

La Prate.

Were all our dayes multiplied into years, and those years to lives, 'twere but a span of time to study our thanks in▪—

[Exeunt.]
Silliman.

Madam? Lady?—

[manet Silliman and La Prate.]

I never knew what Bondage was until now— I fear the Golden heart you sent me, was enchanted: I long to see you—

La Prate.

What d'ye mean Sir?

Silliman.

Ha, ha, ha: hum—Nothing, Madam, but there be them that love a good nature with all their heart: that have Four hundred pounds a year, and money in their purse, to be Knighted, if need be.

La Prate.

Wit and opportunity assist me— The Thing will make an excellent husband for the times: And Four hundred pounds a year is a Considerable fortune to boot: I must take him at his bound, or perhaps dye in the Lift of stale Chambermaids, A Court plague for a mispent youth and service.

Silli.
[Page 40]

I am a Gentleman already, else the Heralds took my mony for nothing: And methinks Madam, you and I might—

La Prate.

What Signior?

Silliman.

Be as wise as our Forefathers.

La Prate.

You and I?

Silliman.

Yes; what say ye to you and I? is not you and I good Spanish? Why Madam, I am able to warm my own sheets, and get Children without the help of a Doctor, and can kisse as warm and Close— And you shall swear my breath is sweet.

La Prate.

Y'are merry Sir, beyond my apprehension

Silliman.

Pardon me Lady if I be: I mean no harm I protest.

La Prate.

very witty.

Silli.

I am, what I am: but I was never beholding to any living thing for thus—much wit: I might a been an arrant younger brother, but for my mother; thereby hangs a tale Madam: And yet I cud a danc'd my Cinque pace in Greek at a dozen: Alpha, Beta, Gama, Delta, cost me five shillings: can you beleeve me Lady? By this Light you shall wear this Diamond: There; shat; shat ha't; shat, shat: shat ha't,

La Prate.

There is such sorcery in your words.

Silliman.

No: No: No: Troth love me: come; thou shalt; by this—nay never sigh, my dear, they are all orient, sweet wench: thou art worth all Spain for a good disposition—

La Prate.

You will undoe me Mr. Steward.

Silliman.

Pish: who I undo thee? My life, thou dost wrong me: canst find in thy heart to think so? away away.

La Prate,

But is this profession, honourable Sir?

Silliman.

I scorn to deal upon dishonorable terms: Do I kisse like a man that would Propound dishonorable conditions?

La Prate

Men are so nice and cunning.

Silliman.

Dost think me a Jew? swear me to any thing.

La Prate.
[Page 14]

Well, you have taken a Poor heart at advantage and make me blush to confesse it.

Silliman.

Kisse me; here's my hand till death us do part: Thine more then mine own, Signior Bouche overte, Sillimano: Seal'd, and delivered: but I hope Lady, there is no Quit rent to be paid out of this Copyhold.

La Prate.

Not for your life Sir.

Silliman.

Lawful possession then, and th'art mine own

[Exeunt.]
Enter De Flame and Cleara.
De Flame.

So; let um drench their souls in Laughter: Kindle thy Noble heart into a Flame, my Sister: Fate cannot give, nor we ask more unto our cause: All things conspire and Prompt us to't: Just, and Divine revenge; I'le strew thy midnight haunts with Cypresse wreaths, and wear thee in rich Medalls: Propitious God­desse: This night thy wan, and meager Cheek shall blush and smile with warm and wanton blood: Night grows heavy ey'd and droops her slumbering head in her dark bosome: And now their Rage and Lust, will make them ripe to bleed: Let us imbrace, and inter­change a sigh or two, Cleara: what e're become of me, thou wilt wear Chaplets in Elizium.

Cl.

My hopes and Joys are yours (dear Sir)

[unlocks the dore and discovers them.]

And heaven I hope will not divide them.

De Fl.

See what a modest blush, sleep has cast o're their Guilt.

Cleara.

Here is a look Tyrants would bashfully gaze at and fear to think it mortal: Glorious hypocrisie! virtue is at wonder in her self, and looks pale, to own what she has given.

De Flame.

I should mock heavens Justice, to let um dream their souls away in such a calm: Wee'l startle them into horror of their sin, and then let 'um see the vengeance they deserve.

Cleara.

Ye chaster powers, to whom I and my Virginity groans; May every drop breath incense to your Justice, whil'st thus I break their springs open.

[Stabs Claudilla.]
Claudilla.

Oh:—Dessandro?—oh—whose hand's that?

Cleara.

Cleara's, Cleara's, carry that name in thy last breath down to the shades of Lust and Perjury.

De Flame.

So quick, and brave Cleara?

Claudilla.

Oh!

[Expirat.]
Dessan. Cleara:

Madam, Madam, your sleeps are troubled— whose there, De Flame?

De Flame.
[Page 42]

Raise not thy voice an accent: If thou dost, by my eternal hopes and soul, this strikes it back unto thy heart: Seest thou revenge sit Pale upon the Point? 'Tis steel'd with Virgins curses, and shall flye like lightning through thy blood: And it is a Justice thy vast pride hath lost thee to.

Dessandro.

Oh! what hast thou done? A deed that Flinty Scythians and curl'd Ethiops would hide their eyes from.

De Flame.

Our Revenge shall wear a Glorious title: Know'st thou that injur'd face? It is Cleara's, injur'd Cleara's.

Dessandro.

Cleara?

De Flame.

What see'st thou on that brow?

Dessandro.

Murder!

De Flame.

Horror and Guilt unto thy soul.

Dessandro.

I'le not be tamely butcher'd, Coward: without there? Help help help.

De Flame.

Whirlewinds and Earthquakes cannot do it; think on thy sin.

Cleara.

Thy Perjury.

De Flame.

Thy Lust.

[Cleara stabs at him.]
Dessandro.

Cleara? Oh—thou hast a skilfull hand in Murder: Help, Help, Murder.

De Flame.

So falls a wretched Statue from its haughty station: when Fate, would make it ominous and fright a state. What a thick cloud steems from his tainted blood: The Air shrinks back, and with dull wings fans it from heaven.

Enter De Loome, La Gitterne, Torguina, &c.
Torguina.

Murder! Murder! 'Twas his voice.

De Loome.

It was his voice.

Torguina.

The Key?

La Gitterne.

Gone!

Torguina.

Cut from my side; I am betray'd.

De Loome.

Look search the Room: where's the stranger?

La Gitterne.

The Dore is fast.

[knocks.]
De Fl.

You may come in; make up your wonder there

[op's the dore
Torguina.

My Lady Murder'd?

De Loome.

You have astonish'd Heaven,

Torguina.

And pull'd eternal curses on your head.

De Flame.

They'l fall like brittle shafts upon my sheild.

Cleara.

Unjust Dessandro! yet on thy Lip I'le tender my last [Page 43] vows, that the world may tell, I lov'd thee Dead—and this— and this—

[kisses him, then stabs her self.]
De Flame.

Hold; hold that cruel hand: Cleara? Sister?

De Loome.

Cleara? This is a horrid Scene, my Lord.

De Flame.

'Twould not be worth my Name, did it not strike Amazement through your souls, and leave a palenesse on his Cheek that hears it. But here; here I could melt! Transfuse my brains through my sad eyes, till they wept blood, & dropt their Jelly forth: She was a Jewel, too rich for our dull Orb:

[Enter more servants

you need not multiply your fears: I am too proud of my Revenge to start from't: Let the Law frown, and fall in Tempests on me:—Cowards repent

When valiant blood ne're Pales at the Event.

[Exeunt.]

Actus Quintus; Scena Prima.

Enter Pirez, and De Loome.
De Loom.

A Sad Court indeed, My Lord.

Pirez.

As sad a Kingdom where the news is spread: men that hear it, stand struck, as if their own passing-bells did call unto them.

De Loom.

Kings Glasses are as brittle as their meanest subjects; their footings as slippery, and incertain: He was a brave Prince, and his Life will be memorable in Castile.

Pirez.

His death is much admit'd for the sudden strangeness of it: What opinion give the Physicians on't?

De Loome.

Th'ave a hard Name for't, if I could think on't.

Pirez.

Not suspicion of Poison?

De Loome.

How, my Lord? by whom wou'd ye suspect it?

Pirez.

Nay, I dare suspect none, nor don't: but such Quirks of State I have read of, in the dayes of old.

De Loome.

I never saw him discount a day with more content and freedome; his very thoughts were hearty.

Pirez.

'Twas a fatal one, and will give a sad discourse to out Posterity; and leave it on Record, in bleeding characters.

De Lo.

The Count's resolution had too much blood & cruelty in't.

Pirez.

Dessandro urg'd as much as mortal sense could groan with.

De Loome.

I now call to mind, still as he spake and glanc'd upon Cleara's face, I had strange startlings in me.

Pirez.
[Page 44]

As the Times have.

De Loome.

The Times? my Lord; For what?

Pirez.

The King's Death, Sir.

De Loome.

Why my Lord? the Times are not of the worst presage, though that may cloud them a little.

Pirez.

I am no Booker, Sir, nor Lilly; to prognosticate what seven years may travel with: but I could with the price of knaves may fall.

De Loome.

Your Lordships virtues command not a more humble and observant creature.

[Exit.]
Pirez.

This Fellow must be muzzl'd.

Enter Sampayo.
Samp.

Who's that?

Pirez.

The Duke's thing; his trifle broker.

Samp.

The King's now.

Pirez.

Castile did never hear more news, I fear.

Samp.

We shall now see the fine Turns and games of State.

Pirez.

When Fools and knaves chase Trump.

Samp.

Now Heads and Points will be the sport.

Pirez.

The King will have the heads then, I believe.

Samp.

Observe um.

Pirez.

So neer?

Enter Bereo, Nobles solliciting him with Papers.

—Heavens bless your Majesty: he'vens keep your Majesty;

[within

Please you to hear your most faithful Subjects?

Duke.

Who are they that bark so?

De Loome.

A Rout of Porters, Prentices, and Sailors Wives; with such a spawn; who are modest Petitioners your Majesty would give'um leave to govern you in some matters of State, and humbly pray, to be admitted of your Privy Councel. Here's another Sir, from the most Reverend Bags of the City, to purchase all the Churches of your Majesty, for Ware-houses. And this, Sir, from the Corporation of Weavers, Coblers, and Feltmakers; that you would please to give um leave to fire all Universities, and Schools of Learning, that the Profane might better see the Truth.

Duke.

No more—Their stinking breath will stifle me: keep back their Clamour: wealth and ease has made the Rascals wanton and profane their Alligeance—My Lord,

[De Castro kneels]

you need not kneel in a Cause that equally concerns Us with you: the groans of your Brothers wounds eccho unto our sleeps: Our [Page 45] Honour and the Laws bleed in them, until a Justice stop their Issues, which our own care shall take a speedy accompt of.— —Sampayo?

[whispers.]
Sampayo.

I shall, my Lord.—

[Exit.]
Duke.

Oh! My Lords; we are circled in a Tyde of Grief, where every billow threatens a Grave: but in your Loves, out hopes takes new life, which we as zealously shall sacrifice again to you, and you [...]s—Let me be beholding t'ye for—a minutes Con­ference with my own sad thoughts.—

[Exeunt.]
Duke.

So—Take breath my hopes, whilest we with pride look upon the world behind us, and then Survey the Glory of our progresse, and successe—The print of every step is glorious; and me thinks we stand like Rome her self, in midst of all her Triumphs, when her threatned head Lean'd on the spangled breast of Heaven, and justled with the Gods: From whose Im­perious frown the world took all her Laws and Dooms: Yet her vast story shall look pale to mine: and Time begins his great Ex­ample here: Castile, thou now shalt blush for thy neglect: I'll print thy scorns on thy own brow, till my revenge look lovely as Romes in her bright Flames to Nero: And Nature shall repent, that she mistook the man, Fortune ment thine. Then up my Soul, and from thy Glorious stand, see thy proud hopes and wishes Court thee: Thou hast been bashful yet, and hid in blushes—make room for thy more spacious thoughts—

And let the Petty world know this; all things Depend upon the breath of Gods and Kings.

[Exit.]
Enter two Officers.
1.

There, there; Lay that in the place; so so; here; help to spread this Carpet: Quick, quick.

2.

Will our new King be here to give the forked herd an oration?

1.

An halter: Thou dost so fumble:—but what's the general voice of the Kings death?—Here's the mourning for that bat.

2.

Marry, some think he di'd against his will, and others that his Brother—where stands this?—will bury him very Royally—

1.

Hum—And others think if thou wert hang'd when 'tis thy due, there would be quickly a knave lesse; dispatch, dispatch, I hear them coming.

Enter Judges, the 2 Ladies, De Loome, La Gitterne, others; De Flame stands at the Bar.
Officer.

Pray by your Leave; Make way; give back there, for shame, Sir, you presse so hard upon the Judges, they scarse have liberty to breath: Clear the Bar: Peace.

1. Judge.

My Lord—Here's none but knowes you, and I beleive do greive to see you stand thus; and for a fact of such a bloody Nature; A Gentleman of your fair hopes and Fortunes, blood and spirit, and other excellent Parts, all cast upon untimely hazzards by such an Act (as indeed I know not how to name it) you needs must therefore be worth our Grief: And I presume you are not now to know the Laws and Customes of this your Countrey, with what Religious care they look unto the safety of our Lives and our Estates, & with what strictness on Perpetrations of such a Die—

2. Especially where innocent blood is shed: And therefore we being but the Tongues of the Law, (my Lord) may hope you will in­terpret the Justice of it, cleerly from our Mouths—

De Flame.

Please you, most Reverend Lords, Is there ought else but this, I am to stand Accus'd for?

2. Judge.

Not that we know.

De Flame.

Then, my good Lords, you need not labour much to find out Circumstances to condemn me: Nor do I wish or think, My Lords, to satisfie the Law, by talking in my own defence: Nor will I brand my self with such a Fear, much lesse hope, as to be­speak a melting Tear. That were to wish the Act undone, and rob my Justice of a Glory, I wou'd be torn to Atomes for: No; I come to meet the Law: And if your Wisdomes can contract the spacious Volumes of it int' one doom, I sha' not startle, or divide my breast. My resolution was above't, when first I undertook to be my own Law and Judge—

1 Judge.

I grieve to hear this Language from you▪ It tasts much from the man that you have seem'd my Lord, stain not your Noble and Religious Fame with such an Atheisme.

2. Judge.

Look back into the deed my Lord: see what a Tide of blood persues you, and breaks upon your soul in Angry Seas.

De Flame.

Look back to our Fame, Grave Lords, the blood and honour of our Family: Nor think it my vain Glory to urge it here since the cause does. There has not yet in all the ages it hath served [Page 47] the State, one stain faln on our Scutcheon: And although, my Lords, these honours are derived to us in a vast circle of time and blood, the passage must be still through our veins; and so are treasured here as heat in Fire; so as the least taint in us reflects a blush on the First virtue of our great ancestors, and what has man cal'd sa­cred, but his honour? That dwells not in the smiles of Fortune: Nor can she place the Fool or Coward in the rank. And can your wisdomes think ours so cheap as to become the scorn of such?

2. Judge.

My Lord, 'twould better satisfie all those that know you to hear your Greif, then Passion.

De Flame.

Oh? Cry ye mercy: he was your Lordships kinsman: yet I will add, he basely did betray a Love and Innocence more noble then a thousand of their Lives (Poor Cleara) Perjur'd his Faith and honour, and quite dissolv'd their holy tyes, in the Lasci­vious arms of her, whose name shal not take honour from my breath.

2. Judge.

We spend time; Pray give those Ladies leave to speak.

Enter De Castro.
De Castro.

My Lords, the King is come to fit amongst yee.

Officer.

Stand back there ho; you; Goodman Roundhead, you'd best breath in the Kings face: Pull back your horns Sir— de'e mutter? take that, and croud Further: The Rogues are as hollow, as a vault, and sound like one with a blow.

Enter Bereo, De Castro, Attendants, at the other Dore, the King himself.

Within—The King. the King, Whooe.

1. Judge.

What's the matter?

Duke.

De Castro? is this a Mask, or Apparition?

King.

—seize on the Traytor—

Duke.

Ha?

King.

Hence; Monstrous thing.

Duke.

Traytor?

King.

Yes; and a foul one—My Lords, suspend your wonder —we thank ye—Prodigie to thy blood we have given you leave to wanton in your Guilt, and see at what mighty impiety it would reach, to fasten you the surer in your toyle:—take your places; [Page 48] —durst thou derive the Glory of our Grandsires to thy self; whilst with unnatural hands thou tearst their Graves up, mingling blood and shame with their blest dust? Have we not shar'd our Kingdome with thee? Let thee into our heart nearer then nature, if possible? And could all this beget no better thanks then Poison? the very thought unnerves my Joints.

Duke.

Treason?—who dares avow it Sir? or Charge the least stain upon my Loyal bosome, and make it good? I challenge all Mankind, and envy from the nether Hells; 'Tis but some engine to betray me to you.

De Castro.

I did but quit a sin which would have betrayed us both eternally, and bore so sad a shape of horror, as it affrighted all within me, and like a Frenzy held me till I had purg'd it from my bosome.

Duke.

Had thy revenge no other way but this, to undermine the virtue of Nature against it self? My Lords, there's forgery in't; Poison? and Treason? It did amaze my innocence: Sounds, that my blood do shiver at: And did not I see his Fathers Treason blush yet on his brow, I shud not think Castile infected with the thought.

1. Judge.

My Lord De Castro? What proof or circumstance have you to urge this Clearer to his Highnesse?

Duke.

Grave Patriots of the Law: give me your leave in this, that wou'd blemish the honour of my Fame for ever. Let him produce but any that may accuse me to your Reverend Judge­ments, and Bereo will lay down his head to the Block: But I know your wisdomes will discern a plot in't: and how fair he stands incompetent against me in Faith and Honour.

King.

What say you my Lord?

De Castro.

Sir, what I have told your Majesty, my Life shall make good on any torture: My Brother being dead, Heaven only and my Conscience can clear it: And to quit my Innocence of malice, your own Conscience must tell you, my Lord, that when first you used my Brother to ensnare me, and prest it in the Dutchesse Garden, how much I argued to divert you: But then—

Duke.

My Lords? I desire Justice & reparation on the Villain.

2. Judge.

My Lord De Castro?—The King has pleas'd to give us your Relation, in which (though the least tendernesse can­not be impertinent to his sacred safety) there's nothing that can raise the Law to any Argument, which may reach the Duke, scarse [Page 49] as a Peer, which looks upon him as the second man, in whom all our safeties all and hopes are stor'd: Not to be touch'd with every Jealousie, but at a high and Reverend form of Proof.

Duke.

Let me appeal unto your self, Dread Sir!—which of my actions or Services of state can be suspected? and do you not perceive that where his Father left, his Treason would begin?

De Castro.

Help me, dear Truth, or else I shall suffer for my Loyalty: Great Sir, be pleas'd—

Duke.

That most Judicious Judge has well observ'd, there is an Envy in his soul wou'd reach from you to your Succession, and leave the Character of his Fathers Treason on it in blood and Ruin: Wretched man! Trust me, I grieve for thy slide from piety; and when I look upon the love and pitty I have cast away on such a thing, I repent my easy faith: Good Heav'n! what will men fall to?

King.

Take the Count unto the Cittadel, and let none be admitted to him, upon peril—

[Exeunt with De Castro.]

Brother, they were no easie insinuations that did engage our fears to this; but such as nam'd a higher proof and Circumstance: And we confesse, it struck our nature with some passionate struglings. Not that the wish of our ambition is fix'd here, and wou'd revive a term of years to rob yee of one minutes glorious trouble: yet, my Lord, if our Laws take care to preserve the meanest Subjects life, our own ought not to be look'd on with lesse Providence: And Fears are happy Cautions many times; but mine retire— Let our desires meet, and reconcile me to your arms—

[embrace]

his merit shall find the Justice it has scandall'd, if it stand guilty.

Duke.

If? my Lord. Can yet that scruple stay behind?

Returns with De Castro & Dessandro, A Phycian and Chyrurgion, &c.
De Castro,

See? Royall Sir, I have met a miracle, that

[they kneel.

heaven has preserved and sent to Guard your sacred highnesse and the Truth.

De Flame.

Dessandro risen from the Dead?

King.

Dessandro?

Dessandro.

The vilest wretch alive, who throws himself at your feet in tears of blood, and so much horrid guilt as calls for all the wrath of this, and the other world: Not daring to lift my hopes to any pardon; oh Sir! 'twas he (back'd by that bad Prince and other giddy hopes) that wou'd have seduc'd my Brother to that Act against your sacred Life.

King.
[Page 50]

Wo'd it went no further? Duke De Bereo? Can now your brow change colour?

Duke.

'Tis all Imposture.

King.

Fie, fie; Don't glory against heaven that hath left thy Sin no subterfuge.

Duke.

You wo'd not fright me from my self?

King.

Well. our Guard?

Doctor.

May it please—

[kneels.]
King.

Rise.—what wo'd yee say Sir?—

Doctor.

Under your gracious License this—we found our princely Lady, and the Lady Cleara cold in their clodded gore: This Collonel, so spent in expence of blood, as we co'd not say alive: For that half spark of heat left in his veins, was then e'en going out: our care having preserv'd and kindled it to life again after his shatter'd Faculties could pant and breath, he cal'd for Pen and Ink, and caus'd us write what there contain'd.

[A Paper.]
Dissandro.

Of too much truth; And I blush for those few drops of blood, I have left to expiate.

Duke.

I am betray'd and Lost— Couldst be in love with that faint Life, for one poor minutes smile, to betray it to ignominy and Law? I cu'd trample on thy skull, untill thy reeking brain sparkled about the dust: See how busily they contract their Dusky brows? Consult things safely, and let some reverend Statute be ordained, in honour of all Cowards: De Castro? For this good service know, 'twas I that laid thy fathers head upon the block: Complotted with the Portuguez to make him guilty to the King: And envying that he spread with so much shadow in the state, by a Close Faction rendred him odious to the people: An Engine I knew cu'd not fail: I hurried thee to the Dutchesse wanton bed, Dessandro; knowing De Flames high blood, would quit the debt I owed thee—

Dessandro.

He's proud all mischief can call him Patron.

Duke.

Nor had I shar'd the pleasure of a kiss to you or him, but that our purpose needs would have it so.

De Flame.

Sir?

Duke.

The Language is plain and true.

De Flame.
[Page 51]

Then Claudilla was your Court Mistresse, Duke 'twere prophanation to say whore.

Duke.

Young Lord, I can forgive that language in a suffering man.

De Flame.

Forgive it?

Duke.

Forgive it—and had De Flame himself enjoy'd her bed, and reapt the scatter'd minutes of our love, he must a found another Glosse more safe and honorable.

De Flame.

Must?—what saw you in me did promise so tame a thing, as to feed on your high Scraps? Glorious mischief.

Dessandro.

My Lord, I beg your mercy; And to deserve it will weep the remnant of this unworthy Life vnto Cleara's Name.

De Flame.

All mankind has my Peacefull wish, but this black speckled Serpent, whose Load doth make the Earth to Groan and sweat.

Duke.

My fair Claudilla? me thinks I see thee Lovely in that gastly trim of death, while yet thy soul was strugling through thy Cruell wounds.

De Flame.

The day begins to frown and Creep into eternall night: Wee'l bed together in one Grave, Cleara: Castile shall hide us in a golden heap, and name me with her patriots for taking this foul monster from her bosome,

Duke.

I'll find thee in the Mirtle Groves below, and leave a story that shall tell the world how much I lov'd thee

[they stab each other.
King.

Desperate Atheists,

Duke.

You were before hand Sir.

De Flame.

Y'have overtaken me—the world is hid in a Cloud, and shrinks to Chaos—Oh—whither must I wander in this mist?—so, so— I feel thee glide away, and leave me sunk upon a Quicksand.

[Expirat.]
King.

What a thirst of blood burnt up their hearts that they must Quench it in their own?

Duke.

Hast thou not Air enough, my panting Soul? [Page 52] —Oh—what a stitch is coming.

[Expirat.]
King.

Would thou hadst better lov'd thy self and us: For while thou priz'd the honour of that blood we prized thee with it: Oh Ambition? The Grandame of all Sin, that strikes at stars with an undaunted brow, whil'st thus thy feet slide to the nether Hell▪ Like some vast stream that takes into its wombe all springs that Neighbour by it, and wou'd proudly carry all their Currents in its own; swells o're its banks, and wantons like a Tyrant—Take hence the sight: It stirs our inclination.

[Exeunt cum Corporibus.]
Omnes.

Long live the great and good King of Castile.

King.

We thank ye, and just heaven which hath (unto wonder) unknotted all these mischiefs, and kept us safe: And because we do not Love to use the Laws in their extremitie, or execute with Blood where we can moderate without▪ But chiefly Dessandro, to endeer ye more to Heaven in your acknowledgement, We do enjoyn you to some Religious House of Orders: There by an humble Life, to expiate your Guilt.

Dessandro.

Upon my knees I do acknowledge your God-like mercy.

King.

De Castro; Our thanks shall make your Loyalty exemplary to all times: Nor with we to live longer than to gain the Faith of all: That we may find our Self and Title most secure, and greatest in your Loves; which gives us more than giddy Fortune can—

This is our Fate, and to the Wise is known,
All Goods without Us, are not sure our own.

In tenui Labor est; at tennis non Gloria.

FINIS.

London, Printed for R. Crofts, and are to be sold at his Shop at the Crown in Chancery-lane under Sergeants-Inne, where you may be furnished with most sorts of Playes.

This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal. The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.