The Royal cuckold, or, Great bastard giving an account of the birth and pedegree of Lewis le Grand, the first French King of that name and race : a tragy-comedy / translated out of the German by Paul Vergerius. 1693 Approx. 174 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 34 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2012-10 (EEBO-TCP Phase 2). A57784 Wing R2125 ESTC R28111 10409853 ocm 10409853 44971

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Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 2, no. A57784) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 44971) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 1389:10) The Royal cuckold, or, Great bastard giving an account of the birth and pedegree of Lewis le Grand, the first French King of that name and race : a tragy-comedy / translated out of the German by Paul Vergerius. Vergerius, Paul. [6], 63, [1] p. Printed, and are to be sold by Richard Baldwin, London : 1693. "Licensed and entered according to order." Reproduction of original in the Huntington Library.

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eng Louis -- XIV, -- King of France, 1638-1715. 2020-09-21 Content of 'availability' element changed when EEBO Phase 2 texts came into the public domain 2011-12 Assigned for keying and markup 2011-12 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2012-02 Sampled and proofread 2012-02 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2012-05 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion

THE Royal Cuckold: OR, GREAT BASTARD.

Giving an account of the Birth and Pedegree of LEWIS le GRAND, The Firſt French King of that Name and Race.

A TRAGY-COMEDY, All it is Acted by his Imperial Majeſty's Servants, at the Amphitheater in VIENNA.

Tranſlated out of the German Language, by PAUL VERGERIUS.

There is nothing more dangerous than a vindictive and double-minded Enemy.

Hug. Grot.

Licenſed, and Entered according to Order.

LONDON, Printed, and are to be ſold by Richard Baldwin, near the Oxford Arms in Warwick-Lane, MDCXCIII.

TO THE Right Honourable EDWARD RUSSELL, Lord High Admiral OF ENGLAND, Under Their Preſent Majeſties King William and Queen Mary. Right Honourable,

PEace being the chief Jewel of the Treaſure of Temporal Happineſs, as common Diſturbers ought to be ſtigmatiz'd with ſome Signal Diſgrace and Satyr, ſo ought the Promoters thereof to be extoll'd with all Encominums and Applauſe imaginable. Hence it was that thoſe, who among the Ancient Romans, had done great Things againſt a Foreign Enemy, for their Country's Good, were on their Return to Rome, convoy'd to the Capitol with all Solemnity, and with great Entertainment, received all the Honour Rome could beſtow: Which being deny'd to Julius Caeſar, bred the Civil War 'twixt him and Pompey. Neither was any Attempt among them reputed too hard and deſperate, when the Publick Intereſt lay at Stake. Thus Mutius Scaevola, that reſolute Roman, having deſign'd to kill Porſenna King of Hetruria, in his Tent, miſtaking one of his Lords for him, burnt his Right Hand that had committed the Miſtake, in the Fire, in the King's Preſence, with theſe Words, En quam vile ſit Corpus iis qui magnam Gloriam appetunt! The King being amazed at his undaunted Courage, diſmiſs'd him without Harm, and ſtrait made Peace with the Romans. Epaminondas, that Noble Theban, who overcame the Athenians and Lacedaemonians, by his Conduct and Courage, made Little Contemptible Thebes the Miſtreſs of all Greece. And having, at laſt, received his Mortal Wound in the Battel at Mantinea, betwixt the Thebans and Lacedaemonians, in the great Joy of his Victory, his Blood and Soul iſſued out of the ſame Wound together; whilſt it was ſaid of him at his Death, That he left only Two Daughters to continue his Name to Poſterity, viz. the Victories of Leuctra and Mantinea.

Worthy Sir, I repute it neither Arrogance nor Flattery to compare the Heroes of paſt Ages with the Ornaments of the Preſent, and ſay, that tho' you ſhould leave no other Memorial to perpetuate your Name, but your late Signal Victory obtained over the Diſturber of Chriſtendom, at Sea, it were a ſufficient Monument, to immortalize your Memory, more than the Two Daughters of Epaminondas. Thus ſince, for your Countries Intereſt, you have, with ſo good Succeſs againſt the Common Enemy, appear'd on the World's Stage, every one who reap the Fruits of your Care, Conduct, and Courage, ought to pay Tribute to your Praiſe, tho' the whole Nation be not able to pay the Intereſt of your VVarlike Deſerts. I, among the reſt, throw in my Mite, to ſtrew the way to your indebted Capitol, preſuming that you, who have been Victorious over Monſieur at Sea, do not fear to ſecond a Quarrel againſt him on Land, Thus, relying on your innate Goodneſs, Candor, and Clemency, begging your Acceptance, and Pardon for my Boldneſs, I heartily acknowledge my ſelf

Your Honour's moſt Humble, and moſt Obedient Servant, P. V.
PROLOGUE. PLays are the Pictures of the former Times, Which repreſent both Vertue, Vice, and Crimes: They are the Breath of Hiſtory; for they Reſtore to Life what's ready to decay: True Emblems of Contempt, Love, and Diſdain, Which famous Acts do bring to life again. This preſent Play doth ſet before your eye Th' eclipſed Map of Royal Majeſty; A Dark Eclipſe, that all the World confounds, And Europe ſtains with cruel Blood and Wounds: It bred a Baſilisk, whoſe killing Eyes Doth tann the Earth, and ſpot the very Skies. Religion is his Bane, Bloodſhed his Love, Abhorrs all Mankind, ſlights the Powers above. The Widows Tears, and bleeding Orphans Cries, Aſcend to Heaven againſt his Villanies. When he was prov'd baſe born, and was put by The Throne, the Crown, and all his Royalty; His Hereticks (for ſo he terms them now) Oppos'd his Foes gave him the Kingdom too: But he, with Mah'met ſoon a League did make, And then devour'd them for Religion's ſake. What Monſter of Ingratitude was he, That did requite them thus for Loyalty! But let him Reign; the lofty Cedar falls, And ſo muſt he, with other Cannibals.
Dramatis Perſonae. Clodius Capo, King of France. Orlinus, Brother to Capo, and Apparent Heir to the Crown. Pontaeus, Cardinal of Richlieu, and Chief Miniſter of State in France. Arnuſius, a Noble-Man of France, and Favourite of Orlinus. Pedro Marcellus, Father Confeſſor to the Queen. Meander, a young Spark of Hononr, and Gentleman-Uſher to the Queen. Hixius Doxius, a pretended Phyſician come from Padua. The WOMEN. Stratonice, Queen to King Capo. Licoſta, Pontaeus's Niece, the Queen's Boſom Friend, and great Favourite. Pandora, An old decay'd Lady, Siſter to Pontaeus, in love with Meander.

Meſſenger, Waiting-Maid, Midwife, Child, Ghoſt, Jeſuits, Monks, Friars, Executioners, Guards, and Attendants.

THE Royal Cuckold: OR, THE GREAT BASTARD.
ACT I. SCENE I. Enter Licoſta, ſola. Licoſt. AM I deſcended of ſuch Pedegree? So great, ſo fair, and yet from Suitors free? What ſpightful Planet did eclipſe the Light, Or what prodigious Comet rul'd that Night, When I was born? Did Via Lactea run With bitter Wormwood, to o'erflow the Sun? No Female Star did uſher in that Morn, To influence my Fate, when I was born: It rather ſeems that Leo, void of Care, About the Northern Pole, did whip the Bear. Enter Pandora. Pand.

What's the matter? You're never well pleas'd:

You're ſick of the Simples: You want a handful You-know-not-what, to cure you I know not when.

Licoſt.

I'm troubl'd, and you augment my Grief.

Pand.

And what's your great Trouble, Madam?

Licoſt.

That which you cannot help.

Pand. And why ſo? Are you in a Love-Fever? Perhaps the weight of your Maidenhead may trouble you? Licoſt.

I do not ſay ſo; but I have liv'd till I am Seventeen Years of Age, and cannot yet have a Husband.

Pand.

Oh, is that your Grief? A pain in the Mind! I thought ſo; but hadn't you been ſo proud and ſaucy, you might have been eas'd of your Burden before now; but I my ſelf was not married till I was full One and twenty.

Licoſt.

Shall I believe it? Did you live a Maid till One and twenty? O Monſter of Lyes! I wonder that you are not aſham'd: Perſuade me to it, if you can. I ſhall rather believe that you loſt your Maidenhead at Eleventeen — But pray, Madam, be ingenuous, and tell me — Was you married a Maid at One and twenty? O horrible! a Maid at One and twenty! that's within two degrees of a Thornback.

Pand.

I will not tell you; you may find it out: You are too bold to ask me ſuch Queſtions. I do not put upon you; nor do I ſay that you muſt live a Maid ſo long. And, if I loſt my Maidenhead before I took Matrimony, I had Wit enough to conceal the Loſs, and behave my ſelf cunningly towards my Husband, when firſt I enter'd Wedlock, which perhaps you have not.

Licoſt. Scold on; I thought you were a Phyſician. A Doctrix for the Devil; And all your Receipts bitter as Gall. Pand.

I tell thee, Licoſta, If thou wert wiſe and courteous, as thou art fair and handſome, thou might'ſt deſerve the beſt Nobleman in France. But ſince thy Wit is deſtitute of Diſcretion; thou may'ſt live Seventeen Years longer unmarry'd; and as for me, I will never beſpeak a Husband for thee.

Licoſt.

And what do I care? I will beſpeak one for my ſelf.

Pand.

I will not keep you company longer.

Exit Pandora in a paſſion.
Licoſt.

Get you gone, get you gone, imperious old Hagg; walks frowning in a paſſion, calls me ſaucy, yet I dare not tell her her own, for giving offence to my Uncle and the Queen — Oh to be thus confin'd, I could tear my Hair.

Enter Orlinus. Orlin. Your Servant, Madam. Your Eyes have an attractive Virtue. I could not ſee and admire you, without coming at you. Licoſt.

Royal Sir, I humbly thank you; for a Jeer from your mouth is legitimate to a Complement, and metamorphos'd from a Complement to a real Truth. I am admirable, indeed, but for a dull Soul and Homelineſs.

Orlin.

No, no, worthy Madam; I admire you for the external viſible Perfections and Beauty of your handſome Body, and internal inviſible Faculties and Accompliſhments of ſo noble a Soul.

Licoſt.

Thank you, Royal Sir; but I do not merit ſo great Applauſe.

Orlin.

Madam, believe me, I have long, tho' impatiently, waited for an opportunity to preſent you with my hearty and paſſionate Reſpects; and give vent to that irreſiſtible Fire, which hath hitherto been ſmother'd within my ſcorched Breaſt. And to ſpeak without Diſſimulation, from the firſt period of time I fixed mine Eyes on your conquering Face (where all the Stars both of Beauty and Vertue meet, and make up a Conſtellation of Perfections) I have ſtill carried your lovely Idea in my Boſom; for, like Achilles's Spear, nothing can cure my Malady, but the Sovereign Eyes which at firſt gave me the Wound.

Licoſt.

I humbly than your Royal Highneſs for your loving Addreſs; but cannot perſuade my ſelf, that a Star of the firſt magnitude will ſo much eclipſe himſelf, as to ſtoop to, or court a Meteor of ſo low a Sphere.

Orlin.

The full Orb of your Endowments, can darken all the Celeſtial Luminaries; and influenceth me more with the ardent Rays of your Beauty, than all the Planets beſide: Fair Helena to you was but a Gypſie, Lucretia but a Courtezan, Penelope but a Changling, Minerva but a Fool: And what Prince, tho' never ſo puiſſant, can but admire and adore that Lady, wherein all Perfections are ſo concentered?

Licoſt.

Royal Sir, you are the Apparent Heir to the French Crown, and therefore there muſt be great Diſparity between your Grandeur and my Meanneſs: And as for theſe Airy Complements, they are fitter to perſwade a Miſs, than court an honeſt Miſtreſs; and you had gain'd more Ground on my Affection, had you plainly ſaid, you lov'd me.

Orlin.

Love ye? I do by all that's good.

He that hath ſeen you, and doth not love you, is not Maſter of his own Humanity.

And, as for me, my Love is turn'd to Admiration, my Admiration to Adoration; and if ever I was guilty of Idolatry it is now.

Enter Stratonice in Grandeur. Strat. What's here to be ſeen? — What Heavenly Powers do influence us now? Uniting the two greateſt Glories of the French Court within ſo cloſe a Circle. Orlin.

Great Madam, I am enchanted within the Circles of Love, by the charming Spangles of this incomparable Beauty, the Phoenix of Women, and Wonder of Men: Yet grudge not my Deſtiny, for I am in love with my Chains, and glory in my own Confinement.

Strat.

Brother, Cupid hath been more than ordinary kind, in directing his Arrows ſo much for your advantage. And if you be as loving to make her your Wife, as I am willing to embrace her my Siſter, you will ſpeedily proſecute your Pretence; and (if the Lady give conſent) make us all three happy at once.

Licoſt.

Madam, his Royal Fancy is but on the Ramble, and intends to have a little Paſtime on me in his Tranſit. However I take all well, ſince from a Perſon ſo far above me, and ſo near related to my Royal Miſtreſs.

Orlin.

By my Intereſt of France, by my Honour, and all the Prerogatives of Royalty, you are the Idol of mine Eyes, the Delight of my Soul, and the Object of my Affection.

Exit Orlinus.
Strat.

Thank your Stars, Lady, Cupid has emptied a whole Quiver in your Cauſe, and made the Loftieſt Cedar in France ſtoop to your Beauty.—The Prince is paſſionately in love with you; but you ſhould not be ſo diffident, when you ſee him ſo deeply engaged.

Licoſt. His Love is more a Flaſh than a Flame. 'Tis deſtitute of all ſolid Subſtance. Neither has he ſpoke any thing of Marriage,

But ſtriven to blow me up with a belief of Incredibles, by his vain and airy Complements.

Strat.

It is below the Candour, Greatneſs and Royalty of ſo Noble a Prince, to be a Hypocrite or Formaliſt in Love, to ſo worthy and deſerving a Lady.

Enter Pontaeus. Strat. See how the Fates favour us. Welcome, deareſt Friend: You have prevented my ſending for you. Pont.

I am glad I have ſav'd you the Trouble, Great Madam, and (as I'm bound in Duty) I am ready at all times, and on all Occaſions to ſerve your Majeſty.

Strat.

My Brother Orlinus's Love to your Niece, which has long been kept ſecret, in his ſcorched Breaſt, is now broke out in a Burning Mountain, and if he meet not quickly with the ſure Remedy of Matrimony, to quench his prevailing Flames, he will be ready to ſink in the Sea of Deſpair, therefore was deſirous to conſult with you, how to bring things to a right Period, with all poſſible ſpeed: For a lingring Love is commonly diſſolv'd in Air, and at laſt turneth to nothing.

Pont.

I humbly thank you, Great Madam, for your Kindneſs towards my Niece. It is by the ſweet Influence of your Celeſtial Aſpect, that ſhe maketh ſuch a Figure at Court: For till ſhe enjoyed the Beams of your undeſerved Favour; ſhe could not preſume to entertain a thought of being the Queen's Siſter-in-Law, by marrying to the Apparent Heir of the French Crown.

Licoſt.

I have ſufficient Cauſe to ſuſpect the Great Monſieur's Amorous Pretences; for they are too much airy to prove a Solid, Well-grounded, Settled, and Durable Love. Neither hath he ſeriouſly propoſed to me any thing of Marriage, but only ſtriven to enveigle my Ears with paſſionate Proteſtations of an impatient Love.

Strat.

My Brother is a Perſon of ſo great Honour, innate Candour, and ſo many Years Experience, that he ſcorneth to make ſo publick and ſo ſerious a Suit to a young Lady, and not be really in earneſt.

Pont.

Rallery and Amuſement are ſo notorious a Prejudice to the ſacred Reputation of a Virgin Lady, that a Perſon of ſo great a Spirit, Valour, and Royalty, cannot be guilty of ſo notorious and ſhameful a Crime.

Strat.

My Brother hath ſufficiently diſplay'd his Reſpects for ſo deſerving a Lady: But being a Prince of the Royal Blood, peradventure, maketh a ſtop in his Proceedings, expecting that you, in Paternal Care, will make a tender of your Niece, in Marriage to him. And, conſidering the high Extract of his Birth, it is nothing below your Eminence to be the firſt Aggreſſor.

Pont.

It may be ſo, Madam; and to find a favourable Opportunity, I will make a ſplendid Ball at my own Houſe, to which I will invite your Majeſties, the Royal Monſieur, with all the Nobility at Court, and in the midſt of the Entertainment, lay hold on ſome convenient Minute to make the propoſed Tender under my own Roof: And this will I perform with all ſpeed.

Strat.

We ſhall quickly then know the reſult of our Deſigns, and I wiſh all may turn to the right Center.

Licoſt.

The Monſieur's Love is but an incenſed Vapour, it will quickly conſume, and be extinguiſh'd to nothing.

Strat.

Are you wiſer than your Uncle, and all who are acquainted with the Matter? There is none of your Opinion but your ſelf.

Enter Clodius Capo, groaning, coughing, and ſpitting, with a Doctor of Phyſick. Licoſt.

Who comes here?

Strat. It is the King. How now-dear Husband? I am glad to ſee you ſtrong again. Clod.

I am far from ſtrong; but by good chance, have met with a Paduan Doctor, who is like to do us both a Kindneſs, and make me as able for Generation as you are for Conception.

Strat.

And is this Gentleman the Doctor?

Dox.

Yes, Great Madam, I am the Man.

Strat.

You can never make my Husband capable to get me with Child, he is an Eunuch from his Mothers Womb; all your Art cannot correct his Defects of Nature. I am well ſatisfied with my Condition: but all the loſs is in the want of an Heir to the French Crown, which in reaſon cannot be expected from the Veins of the unhappy Stratonice.

Dox.

I have done as much in my time as all this comes to: and I earneſtly requeſt your Majeſty, not to queſtion my Ability; for I am no vain Pretender, neither do I profeſs more than I can perform. Three Parts of the World know me, and wonder at my Miraculous Cures. Fando, Duke of Trehuny, having ſeven Daughters and no Son, was loath to leave his Eſtate to one of the Female Sex, and therefore had concluded to make his Brother's Son Heir. But I, to ingratiate my ſelf in the Duke's Favour, took the eldeſt Daughter aſide, into a private Room, before her Father 'roſe; where, by a ſecret Art, which none knoweth but my ſelf, I metamorphos'd her from a Woman to a Man, ſufficiently able for Generation.

Strat.

How do you know that he was able?

Dox.

I perſwaded his Mother to put him to Bed with one of her Waiting Maids, to give proof of his Ability; and he was ſo active, that he begot Eight Children in one Night, and had not his Foot ſlipt, he had made them up half a Score.

Strat.

You are a fine Man indeed, if this be not a Paradox in Nature and abſolutely incredible; yet I'm glad my Husband met with you: for he who can turn a Woman to a Man, can undoubtedly mend one Defect in him who is a Man already.

Dox.

Never queſtion my Skill, Madam; for there is no part of the Body of Man, but I have made. The Duke of Arkos had but one Son, and that a Fool, without Brains; but I, by ſquirting a wonderful Coddle through his Ear into his empty Skull, made him a wiſe Man, and a State Politician. Therefore, being conſcious to my own Skill, and ſure to perform what I promiſe, I deſire to make a poſitive Bargain before I go about a Cure of ſo great Conſequence.

Strat.

And what muſt you have then for this great Cure?

Dox.

Fifty thouſand Crowns; the one half in hand, and the other when the Cure is accompliſh'd.

Clod.

I will rather continue as I am; for Fifty thouſand Crowns is more Money than I ſhall willingly beſtow.

Strat.

Do not grudge it, Husband; an Heir to the French Crown cannot be bought too dear.

Clod.

Well, well, Stratonice, thy Will ſhall be a Law. Doctor, you ſhall have your Deſire, ſo ſoon as the Cure is perfected.

Dox.

But it is neceſſary that I have Twenty thouſand Crowns before I begin the Cure; for my Medicines are compoſed of very coſtly Ingredients, which come from Egypt, Arabia, and other remote places.

Clod.

Come along then, Doctor, and you ſhall have your Money.

Exeunt Clodius, Doxius, and Guards.
Strat.

I ſhall be glad if this honeſt Doctor perform what he promiſeth.

Licoſt.

The performance of his Promiſe will be a Miracle; but if he do as he ſays, he will gain your Affection for ever, and conferr an univerſal Favour on the whole Kingdom of France.

Strat.

I will go now and give him Ten thouſand Crowns, which my Husband ſhall not know of, to encourage him to do his Work well, and with all poſſible ſpeed; for my Expectation is become impatient, and my Appetite is ſet a-longing.

Exit Stratonice.
Enter Pandora, in a gaudy Dreſs, convoyed by Meander. Pand.

What? ſtill muſing on a Husband!

Licoſt.

What's here now? December and June? Hot and Cold are united. Sure we ſhall ſhortly ſee ſome new Conſtellation of Meteors, ſince the Torrid and Frozen Zones are come together.

Pand.

I am neither Cold, nor December; but a good active Gentlewoman, not inferiour to any young Lady at Court.

Licoſt.

But prithee, Aunt, where haſt thou pick'd up this young Spark? He is fitter for my Converſe than thine.

Pand. Why are you ſo deſirous to know? Perhaps you deſign to cheat me of him.

I have done him a Kindneſs with my Brother the Cardinal, and he is reſolv'd to do me another.

Licoſt.

What Kindneſs is it? prithee tell me.

Pand.

He reſolves to be my Husband.

Licoſt.

O brave Aunt! live a Widow forty Years, and now long for a Husband at Fourſcore and Ten!

What Fool will believe you! Not the young Gentleman, I'm ſure.
Pand. What's the matter, Confidence? What if I have a Colt's Tooth in my Head ſtill? But did you ever ſee any Wantonneſs by me? Threatens to beat her with her Staff. Licoſt.

That's long of your gray Hairs, wrinkled Face, and ſtinking Breath.

Retireth a little to ſhun the old Gentlewoman's Blow.
Pand. Did you ever hear ſuch an impudent lying Girl! You, Monſieur Meander, am not I a very handſome Woman? Meand.

You are, Madam, a very handſome Lady in my Eyes.

Pand.

Ay, and in every bodies elſe— O thou tempting young Boldneſs!

I have been admir'd all my life time for a Beauty, and now am ſet at nought, by my own prodigal Neice. You little Huſſy, this is enough to ſet my intended Husband and me at variance, and cauſe him alter his Mind, if he were not of a more noble and ſtedfaſt Reſolution.

Licoſt.

I dare paſs my Word he will not alter his Reſolution; for he never reſolv'd to marry you; no, nor never will.

Meand.

Madam, do you think that I pretend to more than what I really intend to perform.

Licoſt.

Pray, Sir, ſatisfie my Aunt, and I have done: I will not ſpoil your Deſign; but there has not been a Bride in France of Fourſcore and ten theſe hundred Years till now.

Pand.

You lye too, Huſſy, I am but Fourſcore and nine.

Licoſt.

I have reaſon to believe you, for you have told me ſo theſe ſix years paſt.

Pand.

Whatever be my Age, I ſhall make as good a Bed-fellow as if I were but Sixteen—And have a little Money too.

Takes a handful of Gold, puts it in Meander's Pocket, and kiſſeth him.

Dear Love, does my Breath ſtink?

Meand.

No, my Love, 'tis as ſweet as a Roſe.

Licoſt.

Ay, ay, 'tis perfum'd with Gold: Gold makes all things gliſter, and makes a good Scent where there has been a noiſome Smell. It cures the Cracks of decrepit Age; but the Breach ſoon breaketh out again, and muſt be made up anew.

Pand.

O thou ſpiteful Little Slut, that haſt no more reſpect for thine own Aunt, and ſo vertuous a Lady as I have been, and ſo kind to you, Huſſy — O if Youth could be bought for Money!

Licoſt.

I'll put you in a fair way to be young again.

Pand.

So you ſay; but 'tis more than you can do.

Licoſt.

There is a Doctor lately arriv'd here from Padua, who is the Wonder of the World for Experiments in Phyſick, and reſtoring decay'd Nature; and is now about a hard piece of Work for the King.

Pand.

Prithee, what work is it?

Licoſt.

He is to make him capable of Generation.

Pand.

I wiſh he may for the poor Queen's ſake.

Licoſt.

Were the Doctor here, he could tell you whether he could make you young again.

Pand.

I would give him a thouſand Piſtols to make me a Maid again.

Licoſt.

O wonderful! a Maid again! a Maid of Fourſcorce and ten, that has had ſeven Husbands in her time! O Paradox in Nature! Come, come, you muſt leave off your youthful Thoughts now, and think on your Grave and the World to come; and reſign all your Intereſt of this young Spark to me.

Pand.

To you! to you! not for all the Gold in France; I rather the Devil had you.

Monſieur Meander, am not I as pretty a Woman as ſhe?

Meand.

You are both pretty Women; but I am obliged to love you moſt.

Pand.

Then love me as I deſerve.

Licoſt.

Yes, yes, he'll love you ſo long as you can fill his Pockets with Gold.

Pand.

You little Huſſy, Love cannot be bought.

He loves me freely with a pure paſſionate Love, and was never oblig'd to me for one Sous.

Licoſt. O thou old lying Sinner! ſpeak no more. Enter Dr. Hixius Doxius.

But who comes now? Speak of the Devil and he appears.

Welcome, Doctor; I have got you a new Cuſtomer.

Dox.

I want a little more Money of the Queen.

Licoſt.

That's none of my Buſineſs.

But this old Gentlewoman intends to be married to a young Man; and will give you a thouſand Piſtols to make her a Maid again?

Dox.

That's no hard matter, Madam.

Pand.

Did you ever reſtore a loſt Maidenhead?

Dox.

Yes, a great many.

Pand.

What wonderful Cures have you done? What Decays of Nature have you ever reſtored? If I find you ingenious, I well ſet you to work, and nobly ſatisfie you for ſome profitable Experiments of your admirable Skill.

Dox.

The Grand Signior promiſed, by Proclamation, Ten thouſand pounds to any Perſon that would bring in, dead or alive, Baſſa Fatanti, the ſeditious Uſurper of Grand-Cairo; and I being intimately acquainted with him, and he knowing my wonderful Skill in Phyſick and Chirurgery, truſted me with his Head to the Ottoman Court, where on ſight I receiv'd the Money: And having begg'd the Head from the Grand-Signior again, I brought it back to Grand-Cairo, and ſet it again on the Baſſa's Neck; ſo that he was as ſound as formerly. I cut his Cataract of Conſpiracy, and with a Plaiſter of Privacy, I cur'd him of all Treaſon and Infamy, made him a Loyal Subject, carried him back to the Grand Signior, who (wondering at my unparallell'd Skill) pardon'd him all his Crimes, received him into favour, and gave me Ten thouſand pounds more for my Trouble.

The Pope's eldeſt Son was ſo deaf, that he could not hear a Cannon ſhot within ſix foot of his Ear; but I bored his Head with a golden Wiar, in at one Ear, and out at the other; and reſtor'd his Hearing ſo well, that from the Capitol of Rome, he could hear what Pſalm was Sung in St. Mary's Church in Vienna.

With a Radamantean Water, of my own compoſing, I reſtor'd the Duke of Landora's Daughter's Maidenhead, after ſhe had brought forth three Baſtards at one Birth.

Pand.

O for ſuch a Doctor, he is worth a whole Stage full of Mountebanks. O, to be young again; then I ſhall cut a Caper half an hour high.

She jumpeth on her Staff.
Meand.

And was the Cheat never diſcovered, Doctor?

Pand.

And why a Cheat? an Arcificial is as good as any other Maidenhead.

Dox.

Her Husband took her to be a very good Maid, and never queſtioned his Wife's Virginity: But this my Skill is become common in that Country; ſo that it is hard to diſtinguiſh betwixt a Maid and a married Woman.

Licoſt.

Prithee, Doctor, tell me what is a Maidenhead, that People talk ſo much of?

Dox. A Maidenhead is a Trifle of Treaſure. A Sieged Fort, a Minute's Pleaſure, A Hug, a Smile, a Bluſh, a Kiſs, A fond imaginary Bliſs, Love's Paſſion blown up to a Fire, Both quench'd and flaming in deſire. And this is all that Mortals prize, And Princes ſo Idolatrize. Meand.

Come, come, my Love, if a Maidenhead be a Trifle of ſo ſmall Moment, we ſhall do well enough without it.

Pand.

What you pleaſe my Dear.

Exeunt Meander and Pandora.
Licoſt.

Now Doctor I have a Secret to impart to you, and you muſt keep it as cloſe as your own Capital Crimes.

Dox.

I will be as ſecret as Silence it ſelf.

Licoſt.

I expect ſhortly to be married to Orlinus, the King's Brother. Now, if by your Means his Majeſty ſhould have a Son, no Child of mine can expect to ſucceed to the Crown. Now, if by your Art you can give ſatisfaction, without Generation, you will greatly oblige me, and I will not prove unthankful.

Dox.

Madam, give me but ſome ſmall Gratuity, and I will oblige my ſelf to do what you deſire.

Licoſt.

That I will, Doctor.

Gives him a handful of Gold.
Dox.

Now, Madam, if you will promiſe to keep my Secret, as I have yours, I ſhall tell you my Mind freely.

Licoſt.

I will keep your Council as cloſe as my Maidenhead, and perhaps a little longer too.

Dox.

There is no hope of Generation; for Art can never ſupply the Defects of ſuch natural Impotence.

Licoſt.

I am glad it is ſo, all is well. Now we are both bound to keep one another's Secrets: But you are a cunning Man for Money.

Exeunt.
ACT II. The Scene Pontaeus's Palace. Enter Pontaeus and Pedro Marcellus. Pont. NOW honeſt Boſom Friend, Pedro, I am near the Pinacle of Promotion; For my Niece is ſhortly to be married to Orlinus. And I ſhall be the only Grandee in France. I have already conquered three Parts of the Tripple Crown, And would not give two Piſtols to ſecure me the fourth. Pedr. Orlinus is a, reſerv'd and very hallow Man, if I dare ſay ſo; And one whoſe Pretences and Intentions ſeldom agree. You can hardly feel the motion of his Pulſe Politick, Tho' you be the moſt famous States-man in Europe. As for the Tripple-Crown and Popedom.

There are ſo many Cardinals at Rome in chaſe of it, that you can never, in reaſon, expect to attain the Dignity, unleſs you ſhake off the Trouble of State-Affairs in France, remove to the Court of Rome, and caſt behind your back, the care of a good Conſcience.

Pont. Conſcience ſhall not ſtumble me In the attainment of ſo great Honour. But as for the Great Monſieur, I have felt his Pulſe, and he's in a Quotidian Ague of Love. I ſhall by and by know the reſult, tho' at a diſtance; For I have invited the Court to my Houſe: And now is the time of their coming. Here they are, — ſtand off. Enter Clodius, Stratonice, Orlinus, Licoſta, Meander, Pandora, Dr. Hixius, &c.—with Guards and Attendants. Clod. I am as good as my word, Cardinal. I'm reſolv'd now to be merry with you. Pont. Your Majeſty is more than heartily welcome. My Royal Maſter under my Roof! This is a Favour beyond my Merit.

But thus to enjoy a Viſit from the whole Royal Family and Court-Worthies at once, will give me occaſion henceforth to boaſt of my good Fortune, and the Royal Honour conferred upon me.

Strat. Come, come, Cardinal, forbear your Church-Complements. The King and I muſt have one merry Jigg. Come, Husband, I'll warm your Blood with one brisk Dance: And that's good for your Cough. Clod. Prithee let me alone, I have not dane'd theſe twenty Years. Neither am I now in a dancing mind. Strat. Be not ſo backward, we came to be merry. What a dull Viſit is it where there is no Chearfulneſs? Better we had ſtay'd at home at ſome mean Recreation. What ſay you, Cardinal? Pont.

I am of your mind, Madam.

And will rather take one turn, in my Pontificals, with honeſt Pedro here, than murder our meeting for want of a little Mirth.

Strat.

You may freely do it; for Pope Hildebrand uſed to dance like a Ghoſt, in a White Shirt and Surplice, to animate his Cardinals, and raiſe their drooping Spirits above the Sphere of a dull. Melancholy: And I think ſo may a Cardinal ſerve his King.

Pont. Madam, your Argument is very ſtrong. And Pedro and I will try what we can do. Strat. Bravely done. The Muſick playeth, Pontaens, and Pedro dance in their Potificals. 'Tis a pity you ſhould ever have been Church men. Pont. And why ſo, Madam? Church men may be as free as others;

Yea more; for His Holineſs diſpenſeth with their Venial Faults, winketh at their Errors, and before-hand pardoneth all their deadly Sins. I have a Pardon from the preſent Pope Alexander, for all Sins paſt, preſent, and to come: But it coſt me more than 'tis worth.

Pedro.

Their Holineſſes, Pope Alexander the Sixth, and Pope Paul the Third lay with thier own Daughters, and begot Children with their Grandchildren. St. Alanus de rupe was as intimate with the Virgin Mary, as ever were Man and Wife.—Such ſmall Faults will never break Squares.

Strat.

I am afraid it has not been the B. Virgin, but ſome circumventing Devil in her Shape.

Pedro, Madam, you muſt believe as the Church doth, Elſe you cannot be ſaved.

The holy Story of St. Alanus's Conflict with the B. Virgin is Hieroglyphically painted on our Lady's Chappel at Loretto.

Strat.

We have Divinity enough for one Church-dance.

Orlin.

But, Madam, we are all ambitious to ſee your Majeſty's Royal Motion.

Strat. Come, let us to it then, four in one Courant. But what young Gentleman is this? Pointing at Meander. Licoſt.

That is my Aunts intended Husband, Madam.

Strat. Husband! Husband! rather her Great Grand-child. But why do you mock your Aunt? She is a Woman paſt the deſire of a Husband. Licoſt.

She will tell you otherwiſe, Madam.

Pand. What am I paſt, Madam? I am made of Fleſh and Blood as well as other Women. I am not ſo old but that I may out-live him. Strat. If it be ſo, and Parties be agreed, You ſhall have my Conſent, and Aſſiſtance too. But you, young Spark, can you love this old Gentlewoman? Meand.

I love her very well, Madam.

Licoſt.

Yes, yes, but you love her Gold better.

Pand.

Hold your Peace, Huſſy, I deſerve to be married as much as any Lady in France.

Strat. I do not approve of the Match, but now let us be merry. You young old Cent lew oman, may I take one turn with your Spark? Pand.

Yes, Madam, but if it were another, I would hardly truſt her.

Strat.

I am much beholden to your good Nature, old Grannum.

Pand.

I am neither old, nor Grannum.

Strat. But, Brother, Why do you ſtand; To Orlinus. You and Licoſta muſt make up the number. Orl.

I'll do any thing rather than ſpoil good Company.

Stratonice danceth with Meander, Orlinus with Licoſta.
Strat.

I have done Husband, you and I will paſs one Viſit more and then be gone.

Clod.

As ſoon as you will; for my Patience is worn out.

Strat.

But, Doctor, how goes on your Buſineſs? are you like to accompliſh your Cure?

Hix. Yes, Madam, and that very ſpeedily, You ſee the King looks with a more chearful Countenance than formerly. Strat.

Well, Doctor, if you do, you will gain great Credit to your ſelf, and infinitely oblige me.

Hix.

I do not queſtion it at all, Madam.

Strat.

Now, Licoſta, I will ſee what fine Kick ſhows thou haſt got in thy Uncle's Houſe; for I have danc'd my ſelf to an Appetite. Come, let us go.

Exeunt, Clodius, Stratonice, Meander, Licoſta, Pandora, and the Guards,
Orlin. This airy Divertiſement is over, Gardinal. Can you treat your Gueſts with no greater Entertainment? Pont,

I muſt acknowledge that your Highneſs's generous Smiles and Inclinations to what is ſo near to me, both in Relation and Protection, as my Niece, loadeth me with ſo vaſt a Sum of Obligations, that I am not able to pay the Intereſt of what is due: Yet in diſcharge of Part, I do heartily reſign to your Royal Pleaſure both my ſelf and her. And, in further Gratification of your honourable Propoſals, by Vertue of my Authority over her (to which ſhe muſt acquieſce) I humbly tender her to your Highneſs in Marriage, hoping her Vertuous Diſpoſition, joyn'd with the full Orb of your Worth and Royalty, will make up a compleat Luminary in our Gallick Sphere.

Orlin. Marriaged Thou proud ambitious Prieſt. How dar'ſt thou be ſo bold? Giveth him a Box on the Ear with great Indignation. Your Niece and you might have come to a right Underſtanding, Without reading ſo hard a Lecture as Marriage; And Honour enough too done your Reverend Church-Blood, For all your big Looks. Exit Orlinus with his Attendants. Pedro.

This is your worthy Orlinus, I told you what a Spark he was.

Take this blow, to Seal the truth of that Character I gave you of him.

Pont. My Soul is full of Fury, and I'll be Reveng'd on ſuch a little Pimp as he. His Crime is Sacriledge— He has rob'd a Virgin Lady of her Requtation, And given an impardonable Affront to the Roman Church: I'll ſend to Rome and have him condemn'd before he die, That the Devil may have his Right without Lett, or Controverſie. Pedro. That's but little; bend your Wits to a greater Revenge. Find out ſome way to fruſtrate his Expectation of the Crown. By that means you make him ſenſible of his Error, And kneel before you Nieces Feet. Pont. Well, well, I'll think on't. By all that's good I'll be reveng'd. This Blot has cancell'd all his Right to the Crown of France. I have a Contrivance in my Head that will accompliſh my Fury.

My Revenge is hatch'd already, and he ſhall feel the Vengeance of my implacable Indignation.

Pedro.

What is the Contrivance?

Pont.

The only way to be reveng'd, and put him by the Crown is by begetting the Queen with Child.

Pedro. That's a harder way than Hannibal had over the Alps. For we have loaded her Conſcience with ſo much Practice of Piety, That we our ſelves have broke the Neck of our own Deſigns. Pont. I'll transform my ſelf to an Angel of Light, And play the Devil in the Shape of a Saint? I have out-witted all the Kings of Chriſtendom; And doubt not to deal with ſuch a Shallow brains as him. Enter Clodius Capo, Stratonice, Licoſta, with Guards and Attendants. Clod.

Now Cardinal I am come only to bid good Night.

Strat.

But where's my Brother?

Pont. He's gone, Madam. But he has pay'd his Reckoning. Strat.

Why, what's the matter?

Pedro.

He hath box'd the Cardinal to ſome purpoſe.

Strat. Box'd the Cardinal! was he mad? VVhat was the Quarrel? Pont. For tendering to him what in the VVorld I love beſt; And what he, a diſguiſed Hypocrite, has courted theſe ſeveral Years, But ſeems had no thoughts of Marriage, But of ſome baſe and impious Deſign, To ſatisfie his Carnal Apperite, VVithout going to Church; And tells, That it had been honourable for you, Niece, To have given him a little Divertiſement at his ſpare Hours, VVithout any Prieſt-Ceremony.

But this I muſt needs take very kindly, conſidering what good Service I have done both to King and Kingdom.

I expected a Reward of another Nature.
Clod. I am amaz'd, and know not what to ſay: A Blow! a Blow! O thrice ungrateful VVretch! He ſhall forfeit my Favour, and feel the brunt of my Paſſion. 'Tis a great Provocation that thus incenſeth me. Licoſt. Monſter of Men! have I been courted thus? All this while, only to be made a VVhore? The Traitor, Villain, Devil, and Cannibal, Reſerv'd me a Toy to play with all. The Great Orlinus did deſign that I, Poor and contemptible, ſhould be made high, By his moſt gracious condeſcending Favour, Decreeing me a lewd Divertiſement For his ſpare hours: But deſpicable I, Suſpected ſtill his Love was but a Lye. But all the Affront and Stain I have receiv'd Doth not ſo much torment my Mind and Soul, As that my dear and reverend Uncle (whom The greateſt Kings reſpect) ſhould thus be beat On my account. I'm weary of my Life; I rather die than be Orlinus's Wife. But 'pray, great Sir and Madam, pardon me, If I encroach upon your Royalty. I'm mad to think that he who did adore Me by his Words, deſign'd me for a Whore! Pont. Forbear, Neice, you're too much in a paſſion; Know in what Company you are. Their Majeſties have never found a Blemiſh in me, Nor never ſhall, for all this great Affront; Yea, the greateſt that ever Man receiv'd, Which my Royal Maſter doth undoubtedly know. Clod.

An Affront! 'Tis beyond an Affront.

Strat.

I'll never own him for a Brother more.

O inhumane Brute! to beat the Reverend and Wiſe Church-States-Man, to whom we and all our Subjects owe our Peace; for tendering that to him in Marriage, which in the World he loves beſt, after he had courted her ſo long, with ſo great Paſſion, and pretended Conſtancy. Had the Reverend Prelate been an impious Wretch, like himſelf, and proffer'd him his Neice, not as a Wife, but a Proſtitute, they might have parted good Friends. O Beaſt! wicked Man! Brother? Brother to Brutes, and not to Men.

Licoſt. What Shame and ſad Confuſion is ordain'd For poor, dejected, miſerable me! Had he at firſt the bare fac'd Villain play'd, At firſt ſpoke out his lewd laſcivious Suit, I could have met him with a furious Look, And ſtruck defiance in his hardned Face; And made the echoing World a Witneſs Of Indignation and Innocence. But, oh! the baſe, unprincely, poor Impoſtor Has worn the Vizor, and betrayed me; Deduc'd my Ear with that perfidious Sound He term'd pure Love; not once, but o'er and o'er. Now what will babbling Fame proclaim of me, That loath'd no ſooner his laſcivious Suit? And thus my Virgin-Innocence muſt ſtand The blaſt of each polluting cruel Tongue. My Honour now to Infamy muſt canker, When common Story, and each laughing Varlet, Will jeſt on my Contempt, feaſt on my Shame, Smother his Vice, and my Diſgrace proclaim. Strat. Forbear, my dear Licoſta, no Miſtakes, Or vulgar Errours ſhall thy Vertue ſtain; Your Uncle's Conduct, joyn'd with yours and mine, Shall ſoon remove all Shadows of ſo mean An Imputation; and the World convince Of thy unblemiſh'd Candour; and no danger Of Slander, or Reproach, ſhall threaten thee. Licoſt. Suppoſe the World do me the right to clear My Innocence and Vertue from all ſcandal, And, in their Juſtice, give me but my due, And publiſh me but Shallow bubbled Fool, That could an inſolent, proud, vain Impoſtor Hear ſo long, buzzing, without interrupting, So loud, ſo often, without Wit or Senſe, To underſtand his impious Deſigns. If I eſcape this Calumny, what then? Surmounting Waves, the Billows pull me down, Whilſt Inundations of immortal Shame Me overwhelm: And I muſt ever bear About with me, and carry to my Grave A Name ſo little, hiſs'd, laugh'd, and pointed at, Poor, deſpicable, courſe born, and only ſought for, To be a Harlot: O thrice curſed Thing, That I'm reputed fit for nothing elſe, Than the looſe, lewd Pleaſures of the Monſieur! O curſed Shame! O fix'd eternal Stain! Which not the Blood of that ungrateful Man Can ever waſh away — The Subject's Beauty oft hath conquer'd Kings; And Daughters of Common Nobility have been Promoted to the Beds and Thrones Of greateſt Monarchs: But the poor, hard-fated, Humble, and little Neice of Richlieu, has No Beauty, Blood, no Merit worth one Thought From the Impoſtor, Monſter, Devil of Pride, Orlinus; tho' a younger Brother. She ſo much undeſerv'd ſo great a Favour, That its firſt motion could be thus repuls'd, With no leſs Shame, Diſgrace, and ſharp Contempt, Than the Indignity of Grooms and Varlets; Treating the Great, Renowned Richlieu with An impudent, vile Blow, that's only fit For Vagabonds. But, Sir, I hope ſuch Injuries as mine, Acted upon a Virgin's bleeding Fame, (So near in Blood, and nearer to your Heart) To Pontaeus. Will be revenged by the Heavens and you. Strat. I'm vex'd, perplex'd, and nothing have to ſay, Poor injur'd Soul, and yet my Fever burns As violent as thine; tho' I ſuppreſs The flaming Fury, 'till I do redreſs The Injury— For this Barbarian (as thou juſtly call'ſt him) Has acted Outrage on my Honour too. Pont. Thy Credit, Neice, I'll reſcue ſoon again, Nor ſhall' my Proteſtation be in vain. I have a Score of Juſtice to account And balance with the Brute, which will amount To many Millions; and if I paſs thee One Mite of mine, Heavens never pardon me, Thou cruel Monſter of Ingratitude. Licoſt. My Guardian Angel, Father, beſt of Friends, My ſacred Champion: Now my Tranſport flies From deep Abyſs of Sorrow to the Skies. I'm elevate in Joy, my Torments ceaſe, The anguiſh of my Soul relents, and I, 'Twixt Grief and Joy, am forc'd to laugh and cry. Your glorious Reſolution of Revenge, Is Divine Muſick to my troubled Ears. The ſound of Vengeance, O thrice happy Sound! Diſpels my Sorrow ere it him confound. Clod. I'm ſorry, Cardinal, at this Affront: My Blood is hot, and Paſſion fills my Veins, That you, the Safe-guard of my Self and Crown, Who by your Wit have conquer'd all my Foes, Should thus be ſerv'd. Tell what you would be at: Whate'er is your Deſire, I'll propagate. Strat. Baniſh your Brother from the Court, that all Your Subjects may learn Wiſdom from his Fall: This is the way to brand him with Diſgrace, And print his Villainies upon his Face. Clod. It ſhall be ſo; for I can better live, Without a Brother, than a boſom Friend. A famous States man that out-wits the Wiſe, Keeps peace at home, and blinds my Neighbours eyes. Exit Clodius, with his Guards and Attendants. Strat.

I cannot wonder how the Monſieur durſt

Profane my Ears, with ſo many falſe Proteſtations, and ſeducing Sounds, directed to ſo bad an end. How impudent has he been in making his Addreſſes, in my preſence, I preſſing forward his Suit.

But, my Licoſta, be not quite caſt down; For tho' thy Merit be but prized low In Monſieur's Balance; yet thy precious Worth Is greater in eſteem than heretofore, With thy Stratonice; whilſt all thy Wrongs, Like Diamond foil, but make thy Vertues ſhine. Reſt then contented, and thy Grief lay by; Thy Quarrel I'll revenge, or elſe I'll die. Exeunt.
ACT III.
The SCENE, A Gallery in the King's Palace. Enter Orlinus and Arnuſius. CUrſe on this Church-States-man; He leads the whole Kingdom backwards, by the Noſe; I muſt abſent the Court within three days, And come no more there, 'till the Cardinal pleaſe. Arn.

Does the King love his Prieſt better than his Brother?

Orlin. So it ſeems: But the Cardinal makes the greateſt Figure; And whatever he and the Queen ſay, the King muſt do. Arn. O brave! Then it is the Cardinal, then Queen, and the King. But what is the Quarrel? For you and the Cardinal have ever been good Friends. Orlin. I lately pull'd his leather Ears for him; And this is Holy Revenge. Becauſe I would have gone to Bed with his Neice, Without going to Church. Arn. I heard you had great Pretences of Kindneſs for the Lady, And that you was like to die for love of her. Orlin. Die for Love! O brave! what Man that was Maſter of his Senſes ever died for Love? No, no, there was no occaſion to die for Love: My paſſion muſt not run beyond my Reaſon;

Nor I ſo much undervalue my ſelf to think of Marriage with ſuch a little inconſiderable Church-born Brat as ſhe.

Arn.

Tho' I muſt acknowledge that your High Birth entituleth you to a more dignified Choice, than the Neice of a Prelate for a Wife to the Royal Orlinus: Yet, as Princes have often diſpenſed with meaner Deſerts than hers (with ſubmiſſion to the Royal Monſieur) I think at leaſt, that after your former more Princely Choice, of more Illuſtrious Quality, it had been little or no Blemiſh in your Royal 'Scutcheon, to have been once over-rul'd more by pure Love than rigid Honour, in this Second Election: And therefore, what through the conſideration of her Alliance to the High and Potent Richlieu, her Intereſt in the Friendſhip of the Queen, but above all, the Recommendation of ſo much Youth, Wit, Beauty, and Vertue, I am of Opinion, That your Diſpenſation, in this Caſe, had been no impardonable Condeſcenſion.

Orlin. 'Pray, Sir, forbear; no Beauty, Vertue, Wit, Nor Intereſt in the Queen can blind my Eyes: The old He-Goat, that Phariſaick Cheat, The Cardinal (her Uncle) told you ſo: But if I had an itching ſmall deſign For private Recreation, and to act A Gameſter's part, I might have had my Will, Without a Relique hung about my Neck, In an Eccleſiaſtick Collar, during Life. No, no, I muſt not, for ſo ſmall a Prize, Turn Errant Knight, tho' you be pleas'd to grant Diſpenſing Power in favour of the Saint. Enter Meſſenger from the King. Meſſeng. The King my Maſter, Sir, deſires that you Remove from Court, and make no more delay: The Cardinal, our Miniſter of State, Is much offended that you're ſo long here: He'll meddle no more with any great Affair, 'Till to another dwelling you repair. Orlin. Go tell the Letcher, that I'll ſoon be gone, That Mountebank of State, that jugling Knave, Who plays his Pranks, and blinds my Brother's Eyes: Yet let him know from me, the time may come, Wherein I may his Injuries pay home. Exit Meſſenger. Enter Stratonice and Licoſta. Strat. Are you a Prince, the Brother of a King, Of Royal Birth, and ſo ignoble a Mind? How could you be ſo cruel to deſign A Virgin-Lady's Ruine, in pretence Of Marriage? whilſt your aim was baſe and ill, Loſs, Shame, Diſgrace, and Lewdneſs to fulfil. Orlin. Madam, I cannot ſtay, I muſt be gone: The Cardinal Commands, I muſt obey; I have no time to anſwer Queſtions now: I never muſe ou Marriage, nor on Maids; But will reſolve you, if you'll reſt content Of all, when I return from Baniſhment. Licoſt. Had I a Gorgon's Aſpect, and the Eyes Of Baſilisks, the Treſſes of a Fury, The Throat of Cerberus, I would devour Thee, cruel Monſter, Cockatrice of Hell. Had I e'er given the leaſt Affront to thee, I had not grudg'd t'have born my Injury. Orlin. Ill take no notice what a Magpie talks, But will remember all your Uncle's Faults, That cruel Dragon of Revenge and Spight, The Kingdom's Scare-crow, Comet of the Night. Exeunt Orlinus and Arnuſius. Licoſt. Curs'd be thy Convoy, Furies thee attend; May Life unhappy lead thee to thy end. Strat. Love turn'd to Hatred, burns with greater rage Than Jealouſie: Yet tho' Revenge be ſweet, Vindictive Minds with adverſe Fortune meet. Licoſt. O I could ſuck his Blood, his Body ſear With Burning-Irons, Veins and Heart-ſtrings tear, Boil him alive; yet I ſhall ne'er fulfil My wrath, till I both Soul and Body kill.
The Scene, The Queen's Bed Chamber. Enter Pontaeus and Pedro. Pont. Madam, I'm come to tell you of your Loſs, Which is no more than I at firſt expected; Your Doctor, that Impoſtor's ſneak'd away, Without performing what you did deſire: His Promiſes are now diſſolv'd to Air; But no Man knows when he did go, or where. Strat. And is the Monſter fled, that impious Cheat, That did pretend to work ſuch Miracles? He has obtain'd his end, and made a Prey Of our Credulity; for we might thought That his Pretences would but turn to nought. Pont. They were ſo great, and ſo irrational, That they the Courſe of Nature contradicted. Reaſon ſuch Fopperies never could allow; But yet the King's more blamable than you. Strat. He had of Money what he could deſire, Yet had not grudg'd it, had he kept his Word: But natural Strength (as I have oft been told) Could ne'er be bought with artificial Gold. Licoſt. Great Madam, grieve not, tho' your Loſs be great; Kings, Queens, and Monarchs meet with adverſe Fate: What Nature in your Nuptial Bed denies, Promotion in your Majeſty ſupplies. Pedr. Riches and Honour, Greatneſs, Beauty, Birth, Are much deſirable, and of great worth; But yet the Joys of Wedlock are ſo priz'd, That nothing can be with them equaliz'd. Strat. Wedlock's the Honour of the Femal Sex; The want of which each Virgin doth perplex: But ſhould not grudge my Fate, if I but had Either a Child, or Husband in my Bed. Exeunt Stratonice and Licoſta. Pedr. You have put the Queen in a longing Diſeaſe: I ſhall know ſomething more at her next Confeſſion. I muſt think on ſome moderate Pennance, to keep her inſulting Fleſh from an Inſurrection. Pont. VVhat is this to our purpoſe? I am thinking on a more ſerious Matter; How to regain my Reputation, and be reveng'd on the audacious Monſieur for my late Affront. Pedr.

Were it not dangerous I could put you in a fair way to it.

Pont. Dangerous, dangerous! What Danger is't but I can Antidote? My Power's above the King's, and that you know. If I but ſpeak the Word, the Work is done. I ſteer the Helm both of the Church and State. The King and Queen my Force cannot withſtand; And both muſt needs obey when I command. Pedr.

You ſay there's no way to fruſtrate Orlinus of the Crown, unleſs the Queen be got with Child. Now, if this could be done, you have your Aim. And I know by her laſt Confeſſion ſhe is in love; but I dare not diſcover it: For, by the Canon of the Church, it is death for a Father-Confeſſor to reveal the Secrets of any, tho' of more inferiour Rank than a Queen.

Pont. I from all Danger, ſure, can ſet you free; I'll loſe my Life ere you ſhall injur'd be. Pedr.

Swear then.

Pont.

By the Pope's Great Toe I will.

Pedr.

Swear deeper.

Pont.

I ſwear by Purgatory.

Pedr.

Deeper yet.

Pont.

By our Lady's Girdle I will.

Pedr.

'Tis enough.

Pont. Then I conjure you by Bell, Book, and Candle, And all the Relicks of our Mother Church, To tell me all the Secrets of your mind, And henceforth me your Friend, you ſtill ſhall find. Pedr.

Did you not obſerve the young Spark Meander, of whom the Queen made choice to dance with at the Ball.

Pont.

Yes, I did; and he is a Gentleman of a comely Geſture, of good breeding, and a noble Behaviour.

Pedr.

She is deſperately in love with him, and knows not how to ſuppreſs her Paſſion.

Pont.

Now my Work is done, my Revenge is conceiv'd, and a Baſtard ſhall enjoy the Crown. Now I will ſhoot Furies at the proud Orlinus.

Pedr.

But unleſs they be tipt with Policy, they will never hit.

Pont.

Yea, and Hypocriſie too, rather than miſs.

Pedr.

We muſt open to the Queen under what Inconveniences and dangerous Circumſtances the Kingdom lyeth, for want of a Royal Heir, and perſwade her to ſupply her Husband's Deficiency, with a more Potent Conſort; at which the King will certainly connive, if not condeſcend too.

Pont. 'Tis well ſpoke, honeſt Pedro. Rather than our Deſign ſhould prove in vain, I'll ſacrifice my Conſcience to my Spleen. Enter Meander and preſenteth Pontaeus with a Letter.

Which he readeth thus:

May it pleaſe your Eminence;

THE Bearer is my Nephew, whom, for his better Accompliſhment, I deſire to ſtay a while at the French Court: If you will prefer him to any place during the time of his Abode, I ſhall requite you with the like Favour at Rome, when you lay your Commands on

Your Eminences moſt Humble, and Devoted Servant, SILVONA.

Sir, you are very welcome, and your Letter is very acceptable;

Your Uncle may freely lay his Commands on me, who am ready to ſerve him at all Times and on all Occaſions.

But what place, Sir, would fit you beſt?

Meand.

Your Eminence knows better the Places at Court than I who am but a Stranger.

Pont.

What do you think of being Gentleman-Uſher to the Queen?

Mean.

A very good place, but I am afraid that I cannot bear it out.

Pont.

Why ſo?

Mend.

I am but one of a ſmall Fortune, and have not Money always at Command.

Pont.

Money: For the Reſpect I owe your Uncle, I ſhall provide you with Money, if I find you a deſerving Perſon, and grateful to your Friend.

Meand.

Let me live no longer than I prove ungrateful for ſo great Favours—I'll not only be thankful, but hazard my Soul to ſerve your Eminence.

Pont. 'Tis enough, and if you'll call at my Chamber the Morrow Morning, I'll freely preſent you with 20000 Crowns. And as you behave your ſelf you ſhall find me your Friend or Foe. Meand.

I'll proſtrate my Soul at your Eminence's Feet, to ſerve you to the utmoſt Limits of my Power.

Exit Meander.
Pont. Now. Pedro, we may ſee how the Fates favour us, And the Stars concur with us in ſo juſt a Revenge: All things fall out better than we can propoſe. Pedr. This Spark is very fit for what we deſign him. I doubt not but ere long he will make the King a Cuckold, And furniſh the Kingdom with an Heir to the Crown. Pont.

And what is beſt of all, the Queen is in love with him.

Pedr.

O here ſhe is, ſpeak of the Devil and he appears.

Enter Stratonice alone. Strat. Ha. Cardinal, you are ſtill a muſing. State-Politicks will break your Brain. What ſerious Conſiderations are now the Object of your Thoughts? Come, let me know. Pont.

I am not ſerious, Madam, only have been diſcourſing with a young Gentleman, one Meander, lately come from Rome, in whoſe behalf I was a coming a Suitor to your Majeſty in the behalf of Merit.

Strat.

Merit, my Lord, and ſuch an Interceſſor for it are very prevailing Orators in any reaſonable Suit.

Pont.

The reaſonableneſs of my Suit I'll refer to your fair ſelf; when telling you I have Occaſions of State, to remove an Officer, now in Service under your Majeſty to another Poſt.

I would entreat your Gracious Acceptance of a Supply, to fill his Vacancy, in the Perſon of a Gentleman, one Meander; who, beſides Noble Friends, has nobler Vertues his Advocates.

Strat.

And what is he, that Meander?

Pont.

Truly, Madam, he is a young Gentleman, whom Nature hath endued with all the Accompliſhments that can attend one Man. 'Tis true, he's ſomewhat a Stranger at Court, and I ſuppoſe unknown to your Majeſty, tho' I confeſs your Majeſty has ſeen him once at leaſt; and if, among your numerous Donations, of the like Favour, at that time, your Majeſty might chance to take notice of him, I could recall him to your rememembrance, by reminding you, that your Majeſty did him the Honour to dance with him at the Ball the other Night. And tho' as young a Courtier as he is, yet being a Perſon of that remarkable Appearance, that not only the Approbation of the Court, in that fair Aſſembly, gave him ſome Reſpect; but my own Teſtimonials of his compleat worth can more fully anſwer for him: I am embolden'd to preſent him to you as one of your Menials, in the Capacity of your Majeſty's Knight of Honour, your Gentleman-Ʋſher.

Strat. Your Eminence ſpeaks very favourably of him. He muſt be a well accompliſhed Gentleman indeed, Who obtains ſo high a Commendation from the famous Richlieu. Here a little Vermuion riſeth in the Queen's Face, which the Cardinal taketh notice of. Pedr.

And ſo he is, the beſt aoccompliſh'd Gentleman that ever I ſaw.

Strat.

Cardinal, I do not mind well accompliſh'd Gentlemen. You needed not to have given your ſelf all this Trouble, but to have uſed your own Pleaſure: for the Choice of my Servants being always the leaſt of my Care, you know what Perſons are fitteſt for me.

But I am more troubled that this pretending Quack, who promiſed to cure my Husband's Deficiency, ſhould have thus cheated me out of ſo much Money, and ſet my Expectation a longing.

Pont.

Sure, Madam, you're a Lady of greater Judgment than to think, that Art could make up the Defects of Nature. All the Doctors in the World cannot make an Eunuch able to beget a Child. But I heartily wiſh the King had been like other Men. For without an Heir from the King and Queen, the poor Kingdom is undone, for many great and weighty Reaſons, which are not convenient to be mentioned.

Strat. There is no help for that now. The Kingdom muſt be contented. A Crown can never want an Heir. And there are ſeveral, if one fail, whoſe Right it is to inherit this. Pont.

There is not one of thoſe fit to Rule.

But one from your Majeſty's Bowels, endued both with your Wit and Vertue, would certainly make the Kingdom happy.

Strat. And what way, Cardinal, can I have Poſterity? Is it poſſible to beget my ſelf with Child? Pont.

No, no, your Majeſty knows how Sarah and Rachel brought forth Children on the Knees of other Women: So may his Majeſty beget you with Child, by the help of ſome well-wiſhing Friend.

Strat.

Pray be pleaſed, Cardinal, to make choice of ſome other Diſcourſe, or ſome other Object for your Divertiſement.

Pont. I am really ſerious with your Majeſty; And earneſtly requeſt for an attentive hearing. For the good of this poor drooping Kingdom is my real and only Deſign. Strat. O, you would have me to play the Whore. You are Holy Church-men indeed. Pont.

No, Madam, in ſuch Caſes, there is no Whoredom play'd: For I believe you are as free from all laſcivious Thoughts as Chaſtity it ſelf: But to promote the Intereſt of the Nation by a Royal Heir, as the Caſe of the Kingdom now ſtands, is as lawful as formerly it was to raiſe Seed to the Dead.

Strat.

Since you will not leave off your provoking Diſcourſe, I muſt leave your Company: Neither can I imagine what can be your hidden Deſign in ſo bold an Attempt.

Exit Stratonice.
Pont. This is bad indeed. And I'm affraid that all our Machines will prove but in vain: And 'tis all long of your Superſtitious Doings, that has made her ſo much a Devoto. Pedr. Never fear. I'm the Turn-key of her Conſcience: I'll warrant you I'll let the Devil in.

Well have another Bout, after I have given her a little Enlargement at Confeſſion. But we muſt be ſure to keep our new Monſieur in her Eye, with all the Splendour imaginable: For if once her Love begin to be lukewarm, all the VVheels we can turn will hardly bring our Project to perfection.

Enter Licoſta. Pont.

VVelcome Niece, we want a little of your help to forward our Deſigns in your own Quarrel.

Licoſt.

My Uncle may command my Aſſiſtance, what ever be the Deſign.

Pont.

You are not ignorant of our Intentions; for I have already given you ſufficient information how I intend to be reveng'd on Orlinus, and fruſtrate him of the Crown, by the help of Monſieur Meander, the Idol of the Queen's Eyes, and the Phoenix of her Affection; whom I have made Gentleman Uſher to her Majeſty. Therefore be ſure, that with Father Pedro and me, you lay hold on all Opportunities of extolling the Perſon, VVit, and Gallantry of the Chevalier before the Queen; there being no better Inſtrument to whet Love than Praiſe.

Licoſt.

Dear Uncle, tho' the Deſign terminates in down-right betraying the Honour, and rifling the Chaſtity of my kind and deareſt Miſtreſs; yet all the ſacred and binding Ties of Friendſhip ſhall be ſwallowed up in the inſatiate thirſt of Vengeance againſt the cruel Orlinus. But I ſhould heartily wiſh that at firſt you had bended your VVits for a Revenge ſome other way.

Pedr.

A Love-Plot is no unfriendly Deſign againſt your dear, and loving Stratonice (as you term her) after her Abſtinence theſe twenty and three long Years.

Licoſt.

My zealous Revenge againſt Orlinus bends all my Sinews, makes my Blood boyl, and my Heart to leap within me. Nither can any Oppoſition come in my way but I ſhall ſtep over it, ſo I can but rain a Deluge of Miſchief and Vengeance on the top of the deceitful Monſter. I'll blow the Bellows of your Fury, and (rather than fail) lend my helping Hand to the Hammer to haſten the Work of your Contrivance.

Enter Meander. Pont. I ſee you're as good as you Word. I'm glad you are come, for we have been talking of you; And I intend to have a ſhort Diſcourſe with you in private. Meand.

I am ſtill ready to receive and obey your Eminence's Commands.

Exeunt Pedro, and Licoſta.
Pont.

As I told you at our laſt parting, I have plac'd you near the Perſon of the Queen, in the Quality and Poſt of her Majeſty's Gentleman-Uſher, and that you may make your Entrance not unworthy your ſelf, I deſire your acceptance of the 40000 Crowns which I promiſed you,Leadeth him aſide, and ſheweth him ſeveral Bags of Mony, under the Hangings. which will afford you ſome little preſent help. And for the Reſpect I bear to your Relations, there ſhall no Perſon appear at Court in greater Splendour than your ſelf: And to encourage you to be no ways ſparing in any Equipage neceſſary thereunto, I aſſure you my Hand ſhall never be ſhut to you, but a conſtant Aſſiſtance ſhall daily flow from the ſame kind Fountain, to ſupport that Figure I intend you ſhall make. But one Injunction I muſt lay upon you, which is, That as my Favours are never ſullied with the Affectation of Vanity, for this Reaſon, and ſome other private ones of my own, I conjure you to make at leaſt this part of my kindneſs an inviolable Secret.

Meand.

I am ſo ſurpriz'd and confounded with the pouring Torrent of your Eminence's Bounty, that I am neither furniſhed with Language nor Poſture, to be thankful for the Reception of ſuch accumulated Favours heaped upon me, which ſhall be kept as ſecret as Confeſſion, and as ſilent as the Grave.

Pont.

Well, well, my noble Monſieur, never fear Riches and Honour, ſo long as I ſtand your Friend; which I aſſure to do ſo long as you prove real and ingenuous to me.

Meand.

Real! and Ingenuous! I have covenanted with my Heart, to be as real and ingenuous to your Eminence's Shadow as to my own Soul.

Pont. 'Tis enough; but I muſt go about Buſineſs. Send for your Money to your Chamber. Exeunt.
ACT IV. The Scene a Chamber. Enter Pandora. O Unhappy Fate! O I could put an end to my Days, Meander, Meander, Oh my dear Meander! Thou art not to blamed for leaving thy loving Pandora. But a bad Advice, bad Advice, O, the Queen, the Queen! Enter Licoſta. Licoſt.

And what of the Queen?

Pand. What? do you heaken, Huſſy? You ill-bred little Slut; I could brain thee, thou bold Confidence. Proffereth to ſtrike her with her Staff. Licoſt. What is the matter, Aunt? Why are you in ſuch a Paſſion? I believe you are troubled with Love Fits. Pand.

I muſt tell you, muſt I, Impudence?

Licoſt. If you pleaſe you may, Aunt; I can keep a Secret. Pand.

I have no Secret but what I deſire the World to know of. The Queen, the Queen, O the Queen! She has, by her ill Advice, made my dear and ſweet Meander, who lov'd me as his Life, to leave me; for now he ſays he is not minded, as yet, to marry.

Licoſt.

But how do you know that the Queen is the occaſion of all this?

Pand.

Oh I know, I know.

Licoſt. 'Tis but the Devil that puts this vain Imagination in your Head; for I believe Meander loves you now as much as ever. Love! how could he love you, the dry Trunk of an old Tree? You are fit for nothing but to make Tinder of. Pand. And what are you good for? I hope to be married yet, for all this, before you. Enter Stratonice and Meander. Strat.

What News now, old Gentlewoman?

Pand.

I have no good News.

Licoſt.

My Aunt is ſtill in love Madam; but Monſieur Meander is not ſo kind as he has been formerly.

Strat.

You, Monſieur Meander, why are not you kinder to Madam Pandora?

Meand.

I know not what kindneſs ſhe would be at.

Strat.

You muſt hug her, and kiſs her, and be ſo ſweet upon her, as if ſhe were but fifteen years of Age.

Is not this your Deſire, old Gentlewoman?

Pand.

I love his Company now and then; and I think I'm no leſs deſerving now, than when I was but fifteen Years old.

Strat.

And do you think you could make as good a Bed-fellow?

Pand.

And why not?

Strat.

Why do not you take her to Church, and marry her, Monſieur Meander?

Meand.

The old Gentlewoman now, doth not think of Marriage; only ſhe intends to be merry.

Pand.

Yes I do.

Strat.

You ſee ſhe is real: Why do not you marry her, as you promis'd.

Meand.

I never deſign'd it.

Pand.

Why did you promiſe then, what you did not deſign?

O you wicked Wretch! what, did you love me and court me for all this time? Was it to make a Whore of me?

Meand.

I courted you, but could not love you.

Pand. O you double hearted Man! O the Deceit of Men! Pay me my Money that you borrow'd of me. Meand.

I know nothing of your Money; for none I borrow'd, and none I'll pay.

Pand. O Monſter of Ingratitude! O Paradox of Nature! O wicked young Man! Is this your pretended Love? O the Devil take ſuch Love. Exit Pandora, in great Paſſion. Strat.

Monſieur Meander, you ought not to ſcoff and jeer an Old Gentlewoman ſo; Age ſhould be reverenc'd; and, if you pretended to marry her, you ought to have been ſo good as your Word.

Licost.

Madam, I am ſure he never lov'd her; for all her Joynts ſhake, and are as cold as Ice: Her Breath ſtinks and her Face is full of Wrinkles. Love her! ſhe's fitter for the Grave than Love or Wedlock; and yet the Worms would have but a ſorry Breakfaſt on her. Marry her! A young, proper, handſome Gentleman marry an old Chronicle? No, no, Madam, Monſieur Meander has been a Traveller, and knows Trap: He has been in Italy, Germany, Spain, Barbary; yea, and at the Holy Grave. He has oft (I believe) pretended a burning Love, when his Pulſe was quite cold; and I ſuſpect he has ſerv'd the old Gentlewoman ſo.

Strat.

Have you ever been in Love, Monſieur Meander?

Strat.

Once, Madam.

Licoſt.

Ay, a hundred times.

Strat.

And where liv'd that Dove that ſat on the Pinacle of your Affection?

Meand.

Truly, Madam, ſince your Majeſty is pleas'd to ask me ſo earneſtly, I will be free; ſhe was and is one of the Pope's Miſſes.

Strat.

Was ſhe handſome?

Meand.

Yes, Madam: Her Hair were Treſſes of Gold, far beyond the Rays of a riſing Aurora; her Eyes were Di monds, her Cheeks Roſes, her Lips Scarlet, her Skin Alabaſter, her Breaſts Mountains of Snow, &c.

Licoſt.

Did you enjoy her under the Moon, Meander?

Meand.

I never took but one Vow, and that is, Not to kiſs and tell.

Strat.

I commend thee, Meander; but had His Holineſs known this, he had certainly made thee a Cardinal.

Licoſt.

He was liker to have made him one of his Eunuchs.

Strat.

Did you ever draw your Sword for a Miſtreſs?

Meand.

I have oft drawn my Sword in Vindication of my Honour, Madam, but never for Love. Yet a Lover can never be a Coward; for what Man will deny to fight for what is deareſt to him, and what he moſt deſireth to enjoy?

Licoſt.

Madam, there is no neceſſity for Monſieur Meander's fighting for a Lady; his Preſence is enough to conquer her Affection.

Meand.

I own indeed, that being once invited to a Gentleman's Houſe in Spain, I chanc'd to caſt a careleſs Eye and Smile on his Lady, which ſhe return'd with a cheerful Bluſh; which the jealous Gentleman perceiving, drew upon me immediately: But having diſarm'd him, and made him know himſelf, I kiſs'd the Lady, and bade farewell. But this, Madam, was to vindicare my Honour, and no Love Combat.

Licoſt. But what were your Thoughts in the time of your Smiles? I believe they have been amorous enough. Meand.

No matter; thoughts without a further progreſs, made never any conteſt.

Strat.

O yes, yes, I believe ſo; you're an innocent Saint; but your Eye and Complexion betray you.

Enter Pedro. Strat.

Had you not come in time, I had ſent for you, Old Father.

Ped.

I'm glad I am ſo fortunate as to prevent your Majeſty's Trouble.

Strat.

There's a young Gentleman here, lately come from Spain, who wants a Father Confeſſor to unload his Conſcience of ſeveral Tuns of amorous Sins.

Meand.

No, no, Father, there's no neceſſity yet, I have not been ſo long at the Court of France.

Pedr.

Truly I look upon you to be a worthy Gentleman, and moleſted by no Vice, unleſs it be with a Thorn in the Fleſh.

Meand.

No, nor with that neither.

Strat.

I believe you are an old Sinner, tho' a young Man.

Licoſt.

Truly I look upon Monſieur Meander to be a well-accompliſh'd Gentleman every way; tho' I muſt acknowledge that he is Fleſh and Blood, and may love a Lady as well as other Men.

Strat.

No doubt but he doth: But you and I muſt be gone; we will leave him with his Father Confeſſor. Be ſure you confeſs all or none, and make a clear Conſcience; be ſure to lighten it quite, or elſe not at all.

Exeunt Stratonice and Licoſta.
Licoſt.

exiens. This is the fineſt Gentleman that ever I ſaw.

They whiſper.
Strat.

He is a very fine Gentleman, give the Devil his due; Only he wants a little Confidence.

They whiſper.
Licoſt.

Oh, my Uncle will teach him that.

Pedr.

Monſieur Meander, I ſee you are in favour with the Queen; She talks ſo intimately with you, as if you were of the Race Royal, and had been her intimate Acquaintance theſe ſeveral Years.

Meand.

'Tis the Queen's Goodneſs; and I ſwear upon my Honour I never ſaw any thing I admire more.

Pedr.

You muſt learn Confidence, and by degrees you may come to be in her Favour.

Meand.

I muſt not ſuddenly aſpire too high, leſt unawares I fall from the top of my Expectation, and be in a worſe Condition than if I had never known what it was to be Great.

Pedr.

You ſpeak well; but there's no fear, ſo long as the Cardinal and I are reſolv'd to pillar you up againſt all the Machines of Envy that Fury can invent.

Enter Pontaeus. Pont.

How now, Meander? how are you pleaſd with your new Preferment? and, How do you like your Royal Miſtreſs?

Meand.

Like her, and pleaſe your Eminence! 'Tis impoſſible but every thing that is Humane muſt kneel to ſuch Divine Goodneſs; nay, her very Guardian Angels muſt be in love with her.

Pont.

Now you ſpeak like a paſſionate Servant indeed: But I perceive you are rightly qualify'd for a Courtier; you can play the Flatterer ſo expertly.

Meand.

Nay, my Lord, (whatever other Qualifications of a Courtier I may juſtly mourn the want of) I am no ways deſirous of that common Court trapping Flattery, as faſhionable as it is now worn. Beſides, I believe your Eminence is ſenſible of that Royal Merit in the Perſon of the Queen, that deſerves a better and abler Panegyriſt than my ſelf; the higheſt Character I can give ſuch ſublime Excellency, being only the univerſal Duty of all that have the Honour to be bleſt with the umbrage of it, and that I am no more than one of the Crowd that pay it her.

Pont.

Well, well; the Queen is not ungrateful for the kind Character you give her; for ſhe is pleaſed to return you as kind a one. But to put one Queſtion to you; Could you love the Queen?

Meand.

Love her, my Lord!

Pont.

Yes, love her; love that Divine Goodneſs you have painted ſo beautiful? Examine your Heart, and faithfully anſwer me that ſerious Queſtion.

Meand.

My Lord, there's ſomething ſo amazing in the Queſtion demanded, that I am unprovided with Senſe enough to underſtand you: But ſince your Eminence's abſolute Command requires my Anſwer, and I dare not be ſo inſolent as to ask an explication; I can only reply, That had Providence, the Great Diſpoſer, debaſed the Quality of the fair Stratonice, level to the poor Meander, or advanced mine up to her's; and the Divine Diſpenſer ſo ordain'd to lodge ſuch Beauty in my Arms, I could out pride my ſelf in ſuch a Prize, above the famous Alexander with his conquer'd Univerſe; Lord of a fairer World than his Sword ever conquer'd, or his Ambition wept for.

Pedr.

If then for the Safety and Glory of the Nation, in furniſhing the Crown with an Heir, the Royal Grace of the Queen, and the Intereſt of your aſſiſting Friends, by planting ſo fair a Grove of Laurels for you, in the ſtollen Pleaſures of ſo ſweet a Paradiſe, I hope you are not of too ſtrait lac'd a Conſcience, but ſo fair a Lady—

Meand.

Conſcience, old Father! No; there's that higher Divinity in the Fair Stratonice's Charms, that all things move a Sphere below it. The enjoyment of ſuch Bliſs, carries its own Conſecration; and I could mix my Oraiſons to ſuch Beauty, even with my Prayers to Heaven.

Pont.

I find, Meander, that you are a paſſionate Soldier, and would hazard all to ſtorm a Cittadel under a Lady's Banner: But there are a great many Palliſado's, and Barricado's, of rigid Vertue and Chaſtity in the way; but let not theſe diſhearten you; the ſurmounting of theſe Bars ſhall be the Work of Father Pedro and me: For as thick a Maſs of Ice as Honour hath hardened about her Heart, we have Incenſe and Altar-Coals ready to thaw it: And Religion it ſelf ſhall be the miniſtring Inſtrument to ſoften her moſt obdurate Scruples of Conſcience; and therefore your Buſineſs is only to be aſſiduous and officious about the Perſon of the Queen, your ſilent Services being all the Addreſs you muſt dare to make; for the diſtance of a Crown'd Head will admit of no bolder approach; your Province being no more than to attend the Conſummation of your deſtin'd Felicity. But above all things remember (and that with a religious obſervance) that you are puſhing for that Conqueſt which will admit of no Triumph; for there is more than Fairy Treaſure in the Bleſſing deſign'd you; a Secret to be ſeal'd up in eternal Silence, and priz'd as valuable as your Life.

Meand.

If every I proffer to reveal ſo weighty and noble a Secret, let my Blood ſuffer for it; let my Life be at an end, and my Memory be hateful to all Men living.

Pont.

'Tis enough; go attend the Queen's Perſon, and leave the reſt to us.

Exit Meander.
Pedr.

This young Spark is a hopeful Knight Errant, and fit enough for our Buſineſs. I hope ere long our great Machine ſhall go.

Pont.

Orlinus did but put my Ear a little aſide; but I hope ere long to put his Noſe out of joint.

Pedr.

You are in a fair way for it: And what is more than all, your Neice by her Wit in recommending the Monſieur to the Queen, has augmented her Love-Wound; for ſcarce a Day paſſeth over, but ſhe artfully, inſinuateth into the Queen ſome Good Thought, with a kind Eye for the Monſieur Meander. She finds him more than ordinary acceſs, and magnifieth with all the little Arts of her Menage, and applauſe his careful Service and conſtant Attendance. And more than this, ſhe cunningly engageth him in thoſe pleaſing Narrations, before the Queen, of his Travels and Adventures, as infinitely contribute to the Queen's divertiſement; which he relateth ſo ingeniouſly, that he diſcovereth ſuch a Treaſury of that rich Wit and Senſe, as muſt needs plume new Darts from this new Quiver, and heighten the impending fatality of thoſe more than dangerous Charms, which truly before were too Mottal.

Pont.

You find it ſo by her Confeſſion?

Pedr.

I do, and it will be no hard matter to accompliſh our Deſign: For the poor Queen came lately to me, with ſuch a big and lamentable account of her Female Weakneſs, and a diſinal Violence committed upon her Heart, by the more and more prevailing Influence of her bold and formidable Encroacher, as requires no ſmall expiatory Contrition. I being well pleaſed with her Confeſſion, told her it was more her Vertue than her Sin, took a very gentle Cogniſance of her Frailty, and gave her ſo eaſie an Abſolution, that by the cheapneſs of her preſent Balm, ſhe had reaſon to believe that her Offence was not altogether ſo frightful as her own ſtrait-lac'd Conſcience had repreſented it, if her Ghoſtly Father's Spectacles ſaw true.

Pont.

If the Dimenſions of her Wound be ſuch, the Iron is hot enough; and if ever it be malleable, this is the time; therefore let us go preſently, and deſire a private Audience of the Queen.

Pedr.

There is one thing lies in the way; which is this: Tho' I queſtion not our Ability in furniſhing a great many ſinewy and forcible Arguments, the neceſſary Artillery toward a general Storm; yet we ſhall be found very unqualified Orators on this Theme. For in ſpight of all the pretended fair Face of Zeal and Religion, deſigned for our purpoſe, I am ſenſible tha the Queen's piercing Judgment will diſcover the Vizor, and detect the rooted and gangreen'd Malice and Revenge againſt Orlinus.

Pont.

Where haſt thou been all this time? ſhut up in a Cell? By my private Agents (utterly to ſtifle all ſuſpicion of the leaſt remaining Dreg of Spight, or Reſentment againſt Orlinus) he is recall'd to Court; and I have appear'd ſo cool, ſo eaſie, and ſo Gall-leſs in the Remiſſion of ſo heinous an Affront, and in huſhing up of ſo noiſie a Storm, in ſo ſudden and unexpected a Calm, that I am the Subject of Univerſal Wonder.

Pedr.

I'm glad to hear it, and you have done very wiſely: For your Lenity herein, will not only breed Aſtoniſhment, but declare you as meek as a Cloiſtered Saint, reſound your Chriſtian Moderation, and conceal the Cloven Foot of our preſent Deſign.

Enter Stratonice. Strat.

What's the matter now? you look both as if you had been doing Penance.

Pedr.

No, an't pleaſe your Majeſty, we have been but at Pray'r.

Strat.

Devotion's good Exerciſe: But what have you been praying for?

Pedr.

We have been praying for you, and the good of the poor languiſhing Kingdom, that Heavens may yet be ſo kind as to furniſh the Crown with an Heir from the Veins of the illuſtrious Stratonice.

Pont.

O what Calamities hang over the Head of this Nation, occaſioned all by the Childleſs Bed of the Unfortunate Capo! O how much groans this Kingdom under this Affliction? and what inexpreſſible Delight and Tranſport would the Subjects be in? If Heavens would yet hear the Prayers of an Age, and relieve the Diſtreſſes of a People, in opening a Gate to their Bliſs, by raiſing them a Branch from ſo Divine and ſo Dear a Sovereign Stock.

Strat.

I am highly obliged both to you and my kind People Wiſhes: But ſince the immutable Will hath otherwiſe ordain'd it, you muſt all acquieſce in the Divine Pleaſure, and ceaſe thoſe fruitleſs Prayers, which Heaven hath manifeſtly decreed to be in vain.

Pedr.

In vain, Madam? why ſo? who can fathom Providence, or know the Meaſure of our Mercies? tho' our worldly Felicities be all formed for us above, our Study and Induſtry may prove the effective Means in receiving them.

Strat.

By what Study and Means can I Heir the Crown of France? and how can I have a Child, whilſt my Husband is an Eunuch born?

Pedr.

We your neareſt and faithfulleſt Servants, beg your Majeſty, on the Knees of our Compaſſion, to lay aſide all Scruples of Conſcience, and propagate the Royal Seed, by one who may perſonate and act for your unhappy Husband, in this lamentable Scene. My Lord Cardinal (like the Rope himſelf) can make that which is Sin, no Sin, when the work is deſign'd for a good end.

Strat.

Oh, now I find where you are: But could Conſcience be laid aſide, I ſhould ſtill be the ſame; for my Honour is to me of more worth than a Kingdom.

Pont.

Conſider, Gracious Lady, how the natural Orb of this Kingdom's Glory is totally ſhaded: Therefore let your pitying Goodneſs ſupply ſome borrowed Luminary, or all the Light of France muſt ſet for ever. Therefore let no ſudden Fantom aſſume a ſhape to fright you from the Performance of ſo advantageous an undertaking.

Strat.

How can you delude and perſwade me, that Conſcience is but a Fantom? whilſt the Law prohibiteth all Uncleanneſs, under the danger of Eternal Death: Yea, and the Breach of the Seventh Commandment is reckoned among the deadly Sins, even by the greateſt Clergymen of the Roman Church.

Pont.

If any Perſonal Defect render the Nuptial Conſummation impoſſible, the Conjugal Bed cannot be defiled. Now ſince by the fatal Wants of the lamented Clodius, all our Hopes are excluded; what Injury, what Injuſtice to her Husband, can the fair Stratonice commit, under ſo urgent a Call?

Strat.

I perceive the Intereſt of France, and the benefit of an Heirleſs Kingdom is the chief Object of your Deſign. But you are a Church man, and ſhould know that we ought not to uſe pernicious Means, for the attainment of a ſeeming good End: For what profiteth France to me, or all the World beſide, if I loſe my own Soul?

Pont.

No, no, Madam, never fear, there is no Scruple in the Sacred Counſel I have given you; for when extraordinary Occaſions call, we are permitted the uſe of extraordinary Inſtruments. Look back, Madam, but to the Creation of the World, and you will ſee the firſt Original of Mankind raiſed even by Inceſtuous Beds, a Generation betwixt Brother and Siſter. And if ſo Univerſal a diſpenſing Power was exerciſed; for the benefit of Mankind, ſhall one ſingular diſpenſing Act, for the Benefit of a whole Nation, be Capital? eſpecially where that Diſpenſation infringes no Law, violates no Right, and breaks no Command, as has been ſo fully proved to your Majeſty.

Strat.

The Peopling of the World by Inceſtuous Beds, is a very fooliſh Argument; and but poliſheth the Braſs of your Diabolical Drift: For there was no Inceſt till the Law was given. But Adultery was ſtill Adultery, ſince the beginning of the World: Neither can you ſay any thing of force to this purpoſe; but run to and fro in a Circle of Nonſenſe.

Pont.

Alas, Madam, 'tis the Intention makes the Sin: The Gratification of a Luſt may be Criminal, whilſt the preſervation of a Kingdom ſhall be unblameable: Therefore ſtagger not your Royal Reaſon there; but examine the practice of Imperial Policy, in innumerable Examples. How many of the great Roman Caeſars have adopted Sons, to inherit the very Empire of the World? And if adopted Heirs, utter Aliens, and Strangers to the Blood, were ſo publickly let in to riſe up in Bar of all the neareſt Imperial Demandants; and ſo notorious 〈◊〉 Excluſion of Lineal Right, juſtified by thoſe ſtrict and critical Obſervers of Moral Juſtice, the Roman Adminiſtrators. How much more Righteous will an Adoption to the Crown of France appear, when ſo far from an Alien, it ſhall challenge, at leaſt half the Royal Title, in the rich Veins of the fair Partner of the Throne, the fair Stratonice? and the other Additional borrowed part, only a charitable Supply of Indigence, and ſupport of weakneſs.

Pedr.

A Prophecying Martyr could not have delivered more Oraculous Truths than the profound, and Divine Reaſon the noble Cardinal has uttered.

Pont.

Madam, what I have uttered has been delivered in all Truth and Fidelity, without a Taint of the leaſt malicious or ſiniſter Thought. I confeſs, indeed, I have received Wrongs from Orlinus, and perhaps crying Ones, but have freely from a real Heart forgiven him.

Pedr.

Forgiven him? yes, and ſo Exemplar a Forgiveneſs, as the admiring World reſounds it even to your Reproach.

Pont.

Believe me, Madam, I have given you Counſel, and perhaps may have ſurprized you in it; but muſt anſwer for it at my laſt breath; neither can your greateſt Confident bear his Charge more faithfully than Richlieu. Better a thouſand ſinking Kingdoms Mourn, than the fair Soul of the Celeſtial Stratonice ſhould trip, even into criminal Thoughts, by the miſleading Counſel of Richlieu. I would not have ſo black a Sin to anſwer for at my laſt Audit of Eternity, as the betraying of my Royal Miſtreſs, for twice that Kingdom's Price, for whoſe Glory I am ſo ſollicitous.

Strat.

Where ſhall I hide my bluſhing Head! Or how ſhall I be able to look Day in the face, to think that two ſuch Reverend Profeſſors of Chriſtianity durſt ask me ſuch a Queſtion! No, my Lord Cardinal, I will not enter into diſpute with you; for I am too weak to play the Caſuiſt againſt ſuch Learning; but anſwer you in my own Province. Had you been a ſenſible Judge of that worldly Honour you mentioned, you would have ſooner bit that Tongue out, than have dared to motion ſuch Profanation to your Royal Miſtreſs, as you term her.

Pont.

Madam, pray have a right Underſtanding, and be not raſh; for—

Strat.

For ſhame, for ſhame, no more: Flatter me not, blind Guides; ceaſe this fruitleſs Suit; for when you can move the Globe, hope to ſhake me; for the Attempts are equally impoſſible.

Pedr.

May it pleaſe your Majeſty to hear me but one Word.

Strat.

No, no; eternally forbear the repetition of this Day's Folly, or ſee my face no more.

Exit Stratonice, in great Paſſion.
Pedr.

This will never do.

Pont.

Curſe on her Obſtinacy and Perverſeneſs.

Pedr.

If this will not do, I know another way how you may be reveng'd on Orlinus.

Pont.

No leſs Revenge can expiate my Fury, than the loſs of a Crown and Kingdom.

Pedr.

Then we muſt rally again, and raiſe new Batteries, and muſt manage new Mines and Trenches for carrying on our Approach: And what think you, Sir, if the Queen, by ſome Stratagem or other, at ſome unguarded Minute, ſhould be ſnar'd into Meander's Arms? Conſider, poor harmleſs Creature, a meer Virgin as ſhe is, how inſenſible ſhe is of the unexperienc'd Felicity; and her Ignorance is the only Rock againſt us. Oh you cannot imagine, upon ſuch a ſurprize, how preſently her Ice would melt before him; the Offender, with his ſhort-liv'd Guilt, would quickly play that ample Peace maker, that after the reliſh of ſuch a riotous Feaſt of Sweets, undoubtedly the Taſte would ſoon create the Appetite: And I aſſure you, you need not doubt fixing him the entire Lord of her Aſcendant, and producing a proſperous Revolution of your utmoſt Deſigns.

Pont.

I like your Propoſal ſo well, that I will ſteer to the golden Coaſt of all my Hopes by no other Chart; and my Niece Licoſta, the Queen's boſom Favourite, ſhall be the chief Actor in this Scene of Vengeance.

Exeunt omnes.
ACT V.
The Scene Licoſta's Chamber. Enter Stratonice and Licoſta. Licoſt.

AH, Madam, I am the unhappieſt of my Sex.

Strat.

How, my Licoſta! What new Cloud dares ſhade that Brow? Has Fortune any more envenom'd Shafts againſt that envy'd Beauty, after ſo many extravagant Bolts of her Malice, in the Inſolencies of the ungrateful Orlinus?

Licoſt.

Yes, Madam, ſhe has new Vengeance, and the ſame Orlinus, to pour it down upon me: For, after all my Load of Injuries from that vile Man, to compleat his Villainies, he has, this morning, bribed one of my Women to admit him into my Chamber this night, when I am in Bed.

Strat.

How, my Licoſta! After all his impious Barbarities, has he a new Reſerve of Execrations? Is his Mine of Miſchief inexhauſtible? But above all, after ſo wonderous a condeſcending Mercy of the forgiving Cardinal, is this h •• kind return?

Licoſt.

Yes, Madam, to ſo generous, I might, rather ſay ſhameful a remiſſion of ſo many notorious Inſolencies, this is his Gratitude.

Strat.

Rather than ſuch Wickedneſs ſhall be unpuniſh'd, I my ſelf ſhall be thy Champion; and not only all my Intereſt with the King, but alſo my whole Power in the World ſhall be arm'd againſt him.

Licoſt.

Ah, great and worthy Madam, I have not Expreſſions to thank you for your Royal Goodneſs.

Licoſta falleth on her Knees whilſt the Queen raiſeth her up again.
Strat.

Fear not the wicked Orlinus, for I my ſelf will be your Guard; and you may cauſe your Woman appear publickly againſt him, and confront him with his wicked Deſign, to the open face of the World: And if he be paſt all Shame, and the Diſgrace of ſo unprincely a Deſign, ſo loudly detected, be not puniſhment ſufficient, then leave his further proſecution to me.

Licoſt.

Alas, Madam, pardon me when I tell you, That ſuch a proceeding againſt him, would be the moſt ill-manag'd Policy imaginable: For as the treacherous Monſieur had harden'd Guilt enough to hatch ſuch a piece of Treachery, he has no leſs harden'd Confidence to deny it too; and what would the ſingle Breath of a Creature of my low Quality ſignifie in ſo heinous a Charge againſt a Prince of the Blood? And how much would the Reputation of the Monſieur, in the popular Balance, out-weigh the Credit of ſo poor an Accuſer? And ſo the whole Impeachment, inſtead of puniſhing the guilty Monſieur, would rather retort and wound the innocent Licoſta; when the miſ-judging World, upon ſuch a Defeat, might be too apt to lay the original Malice of the Accuſation, not at the Servant's, but at the Miſtreſs's Door. No, Madam; if I would make ſome able Juſtice in my Cauſe, the only means of gaining that point would be, by having the Monſieur caught at the guilty hour in my Chamber, with ſome more authentick Witneſs planted there, to confront his intended Wickedneſs (if ſuch a one could be obtain'd) whoſe not only Credit, but power alſo, ſhould be able both to publiſh and avenge my Wrongs.

Strat.

Since the Train is laid not only againſt the Honour of you, my dear Licoſta, but the very Scene of his Treachery is moſt audaciouſly laid under my Roof, and ſo near my Bed-Chamber, I my ſelf will be that confronting Teſtimony againſt him; for I intend this Night to lie in your Bed: Therefore let the Monſieur, at the hour, be admitted—I will not ſtay two Minutes.

Exit Stratonice, in haſte.
Licoſt.

Now I hope the Buſineſs is done. I receiv'd the Injury, and my Hand ſhall open the Sluce of Vengeance, which ſhall flow a Deluge of Loſs, Diſtraction, and Madneſs, on the Head of the ungrateful Orlinus—Pelanda, Pelanda.

Enter Licoſta's Chamber-Maid. Maid.

Did you call, Madam?

Licoſt.

Yes: Let all my Servants go to bed, and my Lodging be kept quiet; for I am much indiſpos'd, and have taken Phyſick: But you may attend 'till after Twelve a Clock; and when the Doctor cometh to the Door, be ready to let him in.

Maid.

Yes, Madam.

Licoſt.

Go then, and mind what I have ſaid. I cannot yet go to bed, but muſt walk in my Chamber 'till the Doctor come.

Exit Maid. O cruel Fate! O curs'd unhappy Man! That I ſhould thus, for meer Revenge, trapan My beſt of Friends, my Miſtreſs, and undo Her Name, her Honour, and her Vertue too, But ſince I ſwore to be Orlinus's Foe, I'll do't; for my Revenge will have it ſo.
Enter Stratonice. Strat.

I have not ſtay'd long.

Licoſt.

No, Madam, 'tis but Ten a Clock.

Strat.

Is it ſo late?

Licoſt.

Yes, Madam.

Strat.

Then I muſt go to bed, and wait for my Spark.

Licoſt.

'Pray do, Madam; for his coming is uncertain.

Licoſta conveys her under the Hanging, and returns.
Enter Meander, and whiſpers Licoſta in the Ear. Meand.

Is the Queen gone to Bed?

Licoſt.

Yes, yes; but you may hold a little, for ſhe is not quite undreſs'd.

Meand.

Is there any body with her?

Licoſt.

No, no; our Deſign is more private.

Meand.

I cannot ſtay longer.

Licoſt.

Come then: And be ſure you behave your ſelf like a Lover: 'Tis Now or Never.

Meand.

I do not doubt but I ſhall.

She leadeth him near the Queen's Bed, and returns.
Enter Pandora. Pand.

How now, Niece? How does the Night paſs away with you?

Licoſt.

What do you want; why are you not a-bed? 〈◊〉 not fit that an old Woman, like you, ſhould turn Night-Walker, and be on the ramble about Twelve a Clock at night.

Pand.

My Buſineſs is of great weight; it is upon Life and Death: I muſt ſpeak with the Queen, who came in here. I am to beg for a poor Man's Parlon, who is like to ſuffer to morrow.

Licoſt.

This is an unſeaſonable time, therefore go to bed: You cannot ſpeak with the Queen to night.

Pand.

Ay but I muſt and will ſpeak with her.

Licoſt.

Prithee go ask for her then: She is not here.

Pand.

But I'm ſure ſhe is.

She looketh under the Hanging, and ſeeth Meander and her a-bed together.
Licoſt.

You're an uncivil old Fool, more confident than the Devil. Get you to he Door, you amorous old Beaſt.

She puſheth her to the Door.
Pand.

I'll fit you as well, you bold ill-bred Puſs.

Enter Pontaeus Pont.

What's the matter between you and your Aunt?

Licoſt.

She comes in here now, for all it is ſo late, and will needs ſpeak with he Queen, when ſhe cannot be ſpoke with.

Pont.

Where is the Queen?

Licoſt.

In my Bed, with Monſieur Meander.

Pont.

I wiſh them ill reſt: But doth Pandora know?

Licoſt.

In ſpight of my Heart ſhe pry'd within the Hanging, and ſaw them—

Pont.

There's the Devil on't; we're all ruin'd: 'Tis a hundred to one but ſhe is gone to tell the King; for ſhe is as envious as the Old Serpent, and cannot endure that one ſhould but ſmile upon Meander.

Licoſt.

Sure ſhe will not be ſo much a Devil.

Pont.

Tho' ſhe by my Siſter, if ſhe do ſuch a thing, I'll confine her to a Dungeon, where ſhe ſhall lie for term of Life, to feed upon Bread and Water, without the leaſt glimpſe of Light, depriv'd of the Company of Man, Woman, and Child.

Licoſt.

O ſad! here's the King: We're all undone.

Enter Clodius Capo, with a pair of Horns on his Head, attended only with Pandora. Clod.

Came my Stratonice in here?

Licoſt.

Pleaſe your Majeſty, ſhe was here, but ſhe is gone.

Clod.

But I believe ſhe is not gone.

Pont.

I have not ſeen her here ſince I came.

Pandora looketh under the Hanging, whilſt Clodius peepeth in too.
Pand. But ſhe was here juſt now. Come look here, if't pleaſe your Majeſty! Clod.

No truly, it doth not pleaſe my Majeſty, old Gentlewoman.

Pand.

Treaſon! Treaſon!

Clod.

Treaſon! Treaſon! Call the Guards.

The Queen comes frighten'd out under the Hanging, in a diſguiſed manner.
Strat.

O thou impotent, old, jealous Fool! Monſter of Humanity! Paradox of Royalty! and Stain to all Kings! Doſt thou court the Horns, and glory in thy own Diſgrace? Sound the Trumpet of thy own Inſufficiency, make thy ſelf a Cuckold, and me a Whore? Come, come, I have hitherto conceal'd your Defects, and intended now to have put the ſcoffing World to ſilence, by furniſhing you with an Heir, and to have taken away all ſuſpicion of your Inability: But ſince it is your pleaſure to ruine your own Reputation, and ſtain my Vertue, go on, and ſee what will be the reſult of your Folly. But (ſince I can make it appear before the World, that what I do is for your Credit, and the Intereſt of the poor afflicted Kingdom) all wiſe Men will conclude me a vertuous provident Woman, and repute you a fooliſh impotent Coxcomb; and that's more than ever I hitherto ſaid: Put up your Horns then in your Pocket, and proclaim not your own Shame and Weakneſs: Get you to bed, and trouble not a Gentlewoman's Chamber at ſuch a time of the Night.

Pont.

Your Majeſty is much blamable in this; for the Queen ſpeaketh like a good Woman, and is very tender of your Credit.

He puts up his Horns in his Pocket.
Strat.

I have kept his Secrets theſe one and twenty Years, and endured a long Abſtinence; and now to prevent all conteſt in Succeſſion to the Crown, and ſtop the Mouths of all Kings and Subjects in Chriſtendom, who begin to mutter of his Weakneſs, I intended this, not out of any wanton Deſign, but even to the hazard of my Soul to ſerve him and his Subjects, now take this for my Pains. O what a Cloud of Grief, Loſs and Diſgrace has your Fooliſhneſs brought upon my Head.

Licoſta ſlips in under the Hanging, to ſee what is become of Monſieur Meander, where ſhe ſtays with him all Night.
Pont.

The greateſt Project of Wit is ſoon brought to nothing, if it be not aſſiſted and ſupported by wiſe and Secret Contrivances, and carried on with real and unanimous Proceedings, without Jugling, Diſcord, Contention and Brawling. Husband and Wife are but one Fleſh; and if one be divided and riſe up againſt the other, both come to ruin.

Clod.

If I have given my Wife and you any Offence it is your own Fault, becauſe you did not acquaint me ſooner with your Deſign. It was well contriv'd, and intended for a very lawful End. And I aſſure you, dear Wife, I will never henceforth give you the leaſt Offence upon this account; and I beg Pardon for what I have already ſpoke.

Strat.

Be kind to your ſelf, and as careful of your Credit, as I am provident for your Good. I run all Hazards to do you a Kindneſs; and if I happen to have a Child (as I heartily wiſh I may, to ſerve you and the poor longing Kingdom) your young Heir, (for ought I know) may happen to ſend me to the other World.

Clod.

Well, well, ſpeak no more, but hope for the beſt. If we be but one Fleſh (as the Cardinal ſays) the Child will be mine as much as yours.

This Impudent, Tale-bearing, Flattering, Old Amorous Devil has bred all this Diſcord betwixt my Wife and me, but it ſhall never be ſo again.

To Pandora, who ſneaketh to the Door.
Strat.

She deſerves to be broke upon the Wheel, for ſhe would have broke the whole Intereſt of France, which now lyeth at Stake; and I'm afraid the old Fool's Tongue will run yet.

Pont.

No, no, Madam, I'll ſecure her from talking: but I'm aſham'd to own her for my Siſter.

Clod.

I judge it beſt for me to go to Bed.

Strat.

I'll go with you.

Exit Clodius.
Pont. You told him his own, and I commend you. But I vow his Horns become him mighty well. Strat.

Ay, ay, let him wear them; but he never had that which can make us both one Fleſh: I know better things now.

Exeunt Pontaeus and Stratonice, whilſt Meander, and Licoſta ſoon follow after.
The SCENE Capo's Dining-Room. Enter Orlinus and Arnuſius. Orlinus.

Methinks in my Abſence from Court, it is changed, as it were, to another Scene; it looks ſtrange: Yet all things ſeem to be in good Order, and performed in great Decency.

Arn.

All things ſeem to me as they were formerly.

Orlin.

But what is he, this Monſieur Meander, who is term'd Le Grand, the Queen's Gentleman Uſher, he makes a great Figure, and is much in the Queen's Favour.

Arn.

He's a little poor Spark, that lately came from Roan, who now, by the help of the Cardinal, is come to that height of Favour and Promotion, that he dares to huff, and ſet light by the beſt Nobility of France.

Orlin. So; I'll take him up ere long. Enter Pontaeus. How now, Cardinal? Pont.

O Fate be praiſed, I'm overjoy'd to ſee my dear Son, and moſt faithful Friend; That which I ſo much longed for, is at laſt come to paſs. Why ſhould a trifling Word, or a tranſient Blow in Paſſion, breed any conteſt between my greateſt and beſt Favourite and me?

Hugs him in his Arms, with Hypocritical Tears in his Eyes.
Orlin.

Truly, Cardinal, had I not been a little tipſie that Night there had been no Controverſie betwixt you and me. However, to make you amends, I find you ſo much a Chriſtian, that I will marry your Niece now, (if ſhe'll be pleaſed to accept of me) and make her Sharer in my Fortune, tho' it were tripple the Conqueſt of Alexander the Great.

Pont.

Royal Sir, my Niece was ſo much concerned with her own misfortune and mine in the laſt propoſed Tender, that now ſhe is quite averſe from any purpoſe of Marriage; and if I could perſwade her to throw by her rigid Reſolution, I am not ſure but the reſult might be all one, there ſtill being the ſame diſtance betwixt your Royalty and her Meanneſs: However, Sir, if you think fit I'll acquaint her with what you ſay, and return you her anſwer.

Orlin.

Do then, and tell her, I'll make her Satisfaction for her Wrong, and make up all her Loſs with Advantage, and really perform what, at preſent, I proffer.

Exit Orlinus.
Pont.

Pray, Sir, will you reſolve me one thing?

Arn.

If I can I will.

Pont.

Is the Monſieur real in his Propoſal? or is it only to banter me and vent his jealous Paſſion in an undeſerved Revenge?

Arn.

No, truly, I am perſwaded he ſpeaks his mind really with an honeſt intention, and it has troubled him much, ſince he has been from Court, that ever things fell out betwixt your Niece and him as they did: And Pedro's Brother, his Father Confeſſor, plainly told him in publick, that Marriage was the only Satisfaction that could make up your Niece's Wrong.

Pont.

And you think ſo really?

Arn.

Yes, really and I know as much of his mind as any Man elſe, unleſs it be his Father-Confeſſor.

Enter Licoſta. Arn.

I am a little in haſte, and will leave you with your Niece, but wait upon your Eminence at ſome other time.

Exit Arnuſius.
Pont.

What will be your Reſolution now, Niece? Orlinus's Love is become real indeed, and will make you his Wife, tho' his Fortune were greater than the Conqueſts of Alexander the Great. He is told by his Ghoſtly Father, that nothing leſs can make you ſatisfaction for your Wrong.

Licoſt.

It is all one to Licoſta.

Pont.

Why ſo, will you not have him?

Licoſt.

Have him now? when he hath ſo much ſlighted me, and is himſelf put by the Crown.

Pont.

How ſo?

Licoſt.

The Queen is with Child by Monſieur Meander.

Pont.

Curſe on Misfortune: This confounded Revenge has ruin'd us all. I could give her Phyſick, and make her miſcarry; but Meander and ſhe will be at it again, and ſo it will be all one.

Licoſt.

Ay, ſo they will: But alas, Uncle, why ſhould I ſpeak of marrying the King's Brother, when I am undone?

Pont.

Undone! how undone?

Licoſt.

Through your Contrivance, and in Obedience to your cruel Commands, I have betray'd my Royal Friend; I have debaſed my ſelf to the acting even of the vileſt and moſt deſpicable Office of the moſt ſordid of my Sex; and worſt of all, I'm undone, I'm undone, I'm undone.

Pont.

Your Words, Niece, are Myſterious, I know not what to make of them: How are you undone, undone, undone?

Licoſt.

Alas, when the Queen was ſurprized by the King's coming into my Chamber, where Monſiur Meander was a Bed with the Queen: After ſhe had made up the Breach with the King, I went in to ſee how it far'd with poor Meander; but from one degree of Love to another, we came to that height, that he had no Power to forbear, and I had no ſtrength to reſiſt. And thus my poor Miſtreſs and I are now both with Child by Monſieur Meander: Therefore 'tis the greateſt of Follies to think on my matching with Orlinus now—Curſe on Revenge.

Enter Meander. Pont.

How now, Monſieur Meander?

Mend.

How do you do, Cardinal?

Pont.

You ſpeak more boldly than heretofore; one Night's Lodging with the Queen has taught you Confidence enough: But yet be not ingrate, nor unthankful to your old Friends.

Meand.

But one Night's Lodging? ay, twenty.

Pont.

You may thank me for it.

Meand.

O, yes: But I thank my Stars, and her good Nature: For no ſooner had ſhe ſeen me, the Idol of her Soul ſo near her, than the Ardence of my burning Lips and twining Arms around her (a Circle that ſoon conjured up a ſtrange bewitching Daemon that huſh'd all other interpoſing Powers) ſo totally enchanted all the Reaſon and Reſolution about her, that ſhe had ſcarce a Hand, a Look, a Breath, or a Murmur to reſiſt me; whilſt the uncheck'd Riſter play'd the lawleſs Rioter, and made the yielding Sacrifice all his own.

Pont.

O brave Meander! But what paſt betwixt you and my Niece that Night, after the Queen was gone?

Meand.

Why, ſhe ſlept in my Arms; I hope there was no ill in that.

Pont.

She is with Child by you.

Meand.

What if ſhe be? the Cardinal is able to keep it.

Pont.

Is that all? will you not marry her? I think ſhe is only fit for you now.

Meand.

If once I kiſs, farewel Marriage: The Queen is enough for me.

Pont.

Is that your Conſcience?

Meand.

A Church-States Man ſpeak of Conſcience!

Pont.

And why not?

Meand.

O brave, a Cardinal's Conſcience! one may rowl a Wheelbarrow backwards in't.

Pont.

I have done very well, to bring up a Bird to pick out my own Eyes.

Meand.

As you bred me, ſo you have me: You taught me that Confidence, which I could never have had; and now I'm become a greater Favourite than your ſelf, and value neither you nor your Niece.

Licoſt. O curſed day, when firſt I ſaw thy Face, No Shame before; but now comes my Diſgrace. A Whore, a Whore, I did abhor like Hell: No loſs like mine, ſince Lucifer did fall. A Whore to ſuch a mean born Slave as thee, So much below my Race and Pedegree. I could have marry'd thoſe whom thou wouldſt ſerv'd; And yet no better than I have deſerv'd. My Uncle was your making, Sir, and I Will find a way to make your Grandeur die. Meand.

Farewell.

Exit Meander.
Pont. Thy Blood ſhall pay thy Debt, cancel thy Score, What made the Great, ſhall likewiſe make the poor. Return, my Furies from Orlinn's Chaſe, And to the Ax and Grave Meander trace. My Wrath's not ended, tho it be begun, But ſhall in a ſwift gliding Channel run. Dark, ſtill, and muddy, leſt the Monſter know, That I'm, for baſe Ingratitude, his Foe. Enter Stratonice, whilſt Licoſta conveyeth her ſelf away privately. Strat.

How now, in a Paſſion, Cardinal?

Pont.

I have reaſon, Madam, to be in a Paſſion.

Strat.

And what is your Reaſon?

Pont.

'Tis a Secret, Madam.

Strat.

Let it reſt ſo. But where is your Niece, Licoſta?

Pont.

She was here, juſt now, Madam, but is gone I know not where.

Strat.

I believe's ſhe's gone, ſhe's aſham'd to ſhow her Face, after what ſhe's done.

Pont.

My Niece carry's the greateſt Burden of Misfortune, for ſhe is with Child by Meander. She is ruin'd. But your Majeſty has ſav'd the King's Credit, and done the Nation an unſpeakable Favour.

Strat.

The Devil is in this Meander; but you may thank your ſelf for it. You were his firſt Promoter, and all this is long of you—Licoſta with Child!—misfortunate poor Wretch. The King and I had reſolved that Orlinus ſhould marry her, under the pain of our eternal Diſpleaſure.

Pont.

Now, Madam, I deſign ſhe ſhall go to a Nunnery, and do Penance by a long Abſtinence.

Strat.

Then I muſt contrive to come off with Orlinus the beſt way I can. But ſee, Cardinal, what the gaining of your wicked End has brought with it. Look to it Church-man, look to it, and ſee there be that Mercy and forgiving Goodneſs in Heaven for the unhappy Stratonice, that your Religious Sophiſtry flatter'd me with. Have a care of my Soul, I charge you, for I have given my ſelf away.

Pont.

What your Majeſty has done, is a Work of Charity, and the greateſt that ever was done to an impotent King, and a poor Heirleſs Kingdom.

Enter Arnuſius. Strat.

How do's my Brother?

Arn.

He is well, Madam.

Strat.

Who is with him?

Arn.

Only your Majeſty's Gentleman Uſher, Monſieur Meander.

Strat.

And what are they about?

Arn.

They are private in your Brother's Cloſet.

Strat.

That's well.

Arn.

I came to know when your Eminence will be at leiſure to ſpeak with Orlinus.

Pont.

I am ready to wait upon Orlinus at all times; but I ſuſpect his Buſineſs with me is concerning my Niece, which is over, ſhe intending, after her late great Affront, to run no more hazards of danger, but make choice of a ſingle and ſolitary Life in a Nunnery.

Arn.

I ſhall acquaint him with what your Eminence ſaith.

Exit Arnuſius.
Pont.

I do not like that Orlinus and Meander ſhould be ſhut up in a Cloſet: Orlinus is an inſinuating Man, and may ſoon draw out of Meander that which I would not have the World to know for the Pope's Triple Crown, and my own Red Hat.

Strat.

Heavens forbid; then I were ruin'd for ever.

Pont.

Well; I'll pump him, and know the Deſign. of the Cloſet.

Strat.

Do; and let me know, and I will find an Antidote againſt Taletelling.

Exeunt.
The Scene Orlinus's Chamber. Enter Arnuſius and Orlinus. Orlin.

Now, Arnuſius, what ſays the Cardinal to my propoſal of Marriage with his Niece?

Arn.

He is much averſe from it now, as you was when you box'd his Ears.

Orlin.

Sure it is not ſo bad with him.

Arn.

I aſſure you it is; for he gives you an abſolute denial, under colour of ſending her to a Nunnery.

Orlin. Doth Rome's proud Fop, the jugling Fiend of France, Slight me, who ſtrives his Prieſt-ſhip to advance? Farewel his Niece; for ſhe will never be Courted again by ſuch a Prince as me. Arn.

I can inform you more: The uncertain Report of the Queen's being with Child, is certainly true; for tho' ſhe has conceal'd it all this time, ſhe is now almoſt ready to lie in.

Orlin.

Sure the Devil is not ſo great with her, as to make her ſelf a Whore, my Brother a Cuckold, and put me by the Crown.

Arn.

You have no need to doubt but ſhe is with Child; but all the doubt lies in whoſe it is.

Orlin.

That curs'd vindictive Fury of the Cardinal has contriv'd this Miſchief for the Affront I gave to him and his Niece.

Arn.

I know nothing of that; but this Monſieur Meander and ſhe are mighty familiar; and ſome talk as if they were too familiar.

Orl.

I ſhall find that out.

Enter Capo, Stratonice, big bellied, Meander, and Pontaeus. Capo.

Brother, we are come to pay you a Viſit.

Orlin.

Your Majeſties are heartily welcome; and I am glad, Brother, you have done that the whole Nation has ſo long wiſh'd for.

Capo.

What's that?

Orlin.

Got the Queen with Child.

Capo.

Yes, Brother; but I have been a long while about it.

Strat.

No matter; a thing well done, is ſoon done.

Orlin.

You look, Madam, as if your Time were nigh.

Strat.

So nigh, that I have not an hour to reckon on; neither dare I hazard to ſtay long from my Chamber.

Capo.

Do not ſtay then, but go and wait for the good Hour.

Strat.

I will

Exeunt Stratonice and Meander.
Orlin.

Brother, there is great talking concerning this Birth before it be brought forth.

Capo.

What talking?

Orlin.

Some talk as is you had got help in begetting the Queen with Child.

Capo.

Yes, ſo I did; for my Wife helped me.

Orlin.

Brother, if you will have it ſo, it muſt be ſo.

Pont.

Let not your Majeſty take offence at your Brother's Diſcourſe; for he intends only to make merry.

Capo.

No, no, Cardinal; I know that.

Arn.

The Queen's a more vertuous Lady than to give occaſion of ſuch a black, diſgraceful, and undeſerv'd Suſpicion.

Pont.

And eſpecially when it brings along with it ſo high and heinous a Reflection and Diſparagement on his Majeſty.

Capo.

I deſire, Brother, that neither in jeſt nor earneſt you talk to me of ſo impertinent a Subject, under the pain of my eternal Diſpleaſure.

Orlin.

Let it ſo reſt, Brother; what is your Will I muſt ſubmit to.

Enter Meander. Capo.

What good News now?

Meand.

The Queen is in Labour.

Pont.

I wiſh her a happy Delivery.

Arn.

'Pray Heavens ſhe may.

Orlin.

But we'll go and ſee how it fares with her.

Capo.

Go then, without further delay.

Orlin.

The Birth of a Royal Heir is of great weight.

Exeunt Orlinus, Meander, and Arnuſius.
Capo.

What meant my Brother by this impertinent Diſcourſe, Cardinal?

Pont.

Some Fop has been buzzing him in the ear with an idle Diſcourſe, and now he caſts up the Froth of a groundleſs Suſpicion.

Capo.

I would adviſe him to be more cautious both in his Words and Actions, leſt he run himſelf headlong in an evitable Danger.

Pont.

I cannot but highly commend your Majeſty for your Patience, when he ſo far encroach'd on your Majeſty's Honour and Manhood. But to ſpeak without Guile or Diſſimulation, your Brother is ſwell'd to that magnitude, that he ſeems to eclipſe both your ſelf and Queen, the two celeſtial Orbs that illuminate this flouriſhing Nation.

Capo.

He ſhall not henceforth find me ſo patient.

Pont.

Your Majeſty is to be commended, to be either King or no King.

Enter Orlinus and Meander, with a Midwife carrying the ſuppoſed Prince; convoy'd by ſeveral Noblemen and Ladies, Jeſuits, Monks, and Friars; with a Spirit in a white Surplice walking laſt. Capo.

What good News?

Midw.

Good News for your Majeſty and all your Subjects.

Pont.

A Prince! a Prince!

Meand.

Heavens be prais'd.

Capo.

Come, let me ſee him.

Orlin.

He's as like you, Brother, as a Cub is like a Lien's Whelp. I think, Meander, he favours you. Look and ſee, Cardinal.

Pont.

No, no, (and pleaſe your Grace) he is like his own Father.

Capo.

Forbear your airy and tempting Reflections; your jealous Pate is not fit to wear a Crown, tho' I had no Heir.

Orlin.

No ſure, Brother, you have one: I ſaw it come out, but the Devil knows how it came in.

Capo.

Abſent my Preſence, and let me not ſee your face, 'till you learn a better Behaviour, and more Breeding.

Exit Orlinus.
Pont. I have my Wiſh; for now the Royal Heir Of France is born, and diſſipates to Air Taketh the Child in his Arms. The groundleſs Hopes that once Orlinus had, Which all the Joys of France once ſmothered. The Spirit ſtoppeth him, and taketh the Child after a daring manner, and ſpeaketh thus: Spirit. But ſuffer me without offence to tell, That he will prove a Cocatrice of Hell. He'll be a Man of Prey, and home will bring His Triumphs, through his Subjects ſuffering: Not only ſwelling France will he undo, But neighbouring Kings, and mighty Princes too. He'll dip his Foot in Blood, and do the Work Of Apoſtates, and turn Moſt Chriſtian Turk. Truce-breaking Brute, who with his Villainies Will tann the Earth, and ſpot the very Skies. Unhappy France, the Baſilisk that bred; His Birth's thy Bane, his Death will make thee glad. He'll dote when he grows old, deſpiſe the Pope, And bring all Kings of Europe in his tope. He'll hate all Men, and all Men will abhor him, No Monſter ſuch was ever born before him. His Name will ſtink, his Memory will rot; His cruel Acts will never be forgot. He's Deo datus; for from Heaven he's hurl'd, Like Lucifer, to plague the Lower World. Live, live, young Serpent, 'till thou com'ſt to age, Hard-hearted ſtill, and Pharaoh like in rage, 'Till, like Di'cleſian, thou be forc'd to fly, Aſham'd to live, and terrify'd to die. Avant then, Viper, tho' thy Life's but ſmall; Thy pois'nous Eyes preſage thy Father's Fall. He giveth back the young Prince to the Midwife, and vaniſheth, whereat all preſent are amaz'd. Capo.

Heavens! who's here?

Pont.

A Devil! a Devil!

Arn.

An Angel, an Angel.

Pont.

Why did not he ſtay then?

Arn.

Cardinal, you are not Company for White Angels; your Troop are of another Livery.

Pont.

Be he Devil, be he Angel, I believe he will prove a true Prophet.

Capo.

Heavens forbid: But be what he will, he has ſo frighted me, that I will ſtay no longer.

Exeunt omnes, in a hurry.
The Scene, Stratonice's Bed-Chamber. Enter Stratonice, ſola. Strat. The Danger's paſt, my Abſtinence is o'er, And grumbling France will taunt the King no more; He has an Heir now to his Royal Crown, A hopeful Spark, as any in the Town. Enter Licoſta, and falleth down on her Knees, crying, before the Queen. Licoſt.

Great Madam, I muſt acknowledge my ſelf too bold to intrude your Majeſty's Preſence, after ſuch a vile Act of vindictive Impudence, which has juſtly ruin'd me in all reſpects. But your Majeſty's Vertue and Innocence, guard you from all Stain, and danger of Diſgrace; and what is paſt upon your Majeſty's account, tends to a profitable End, and the infinite Advantage of all your Subjects. Now, dear Madam, ſince Fate is ſo much your Friend, and your Guardian Angels ſo protect you, be ſo kind, out of your Goodneſs and Candour, to pardon my Weakneſs, and receive me again into your Majeſty's Favour; otherwiſe my Heart will break, my Spirits ſail, and I ſhall be ready to put a period to my wretched Days.

Strat. My dear Licoſta, 'till the Sun, at Noon, Stratonice raiſeth her up, pulleth her in her Arms, & kiſſethher. Give o'er to ſhine, and ſuddenly go down; 'Till Fiſhes live in Woods, and Bears at Sea, My conſtant Love ſhall ne'er depart from thee. I pardon thee what ever thou haſt done, And love thee now as when it was begun. Forbear, forbear, thy Loſs is more than mine; Yet if I live I'll make thy Vertues ſhine. Enter Pontaeus in haſte, with an angry Countenance. Pont.

O Misfortune!

Strat.

What's the matter now, Cardinal? You ſeem to be troubled in Mind.

Pont.

We are all ruin'd and undone.

Strat.

How ſo.?

Pont.

O this unhappy Meander, that ever I ſaw the Face of him!

Strat.

What is the matter, Cardinal?

Pont.

I cannot ſpeak. O this Meander! this unhappy Meander! We are all betray'd.

Strat.

Prithee ſpeak out.

Pont.

He has promis'd to diſcover to Orlinus the whole Intrigue of the young Prince.

Strat.

How do you know?

Pont.

I had ſome information of it from a certain hand. But Arnuſius knows the whole proceedings, yet will not tell me one tittle.

Strat.

O curſed Wretch! O ungrateful Monſter! I'll be reveng'd.

Enter Arnuſius. Strat.

Whence are you come, Arnuſius?

Arn.

From Orlinus, Madam, to enquire for your Welfare.

Strat.

I'm in the way of recovery. But who is with my Brother?

Arn.

None but Monſieur Meander.

Strat.

They are ſoon become acquainted.

Pont.

Ay, too ſoon to contrive Miſchief.

Strat.

And what are they about.

Arn.

They are ſerious in private.

Strat.

But do you know what they are about?

Arn.

Not I, Madam.

Strat.

Do not deny it; for I know you do: And if you will not tell me, it ſhall be the worſe for you; but if you will, there's nothing in France ſhall be too good for you.

Arn.

I would willingly ſerve your Majeſty, but am quite ignorant of what you ſpeak.

Pont.

Did you ever hear Orlinus ſpeak diſgracefully of the Birth of the young Prince?

Strat.

Speak the truth; for if ever I find out that you hear and conceal ſo deep a Treaſon, you ſhall be judged as a Traitor, and receive Juſtice accordingly.

Arn.

Madam, if you will vow and promiſe never to diſcover what I ſay, but proſecute your Deſign in another Channel, I'll tell you all I know.

Strat.

I do vow and promiſe, and will reward you to your Mind.

Arn.

Meander has promis'd to put Orlinus in a fair way to be King; to diſcover the whole Intrigue of the Young Prince, and prove that he is no lawful Heir to the French Crown; and, for reward, he has bound himſelf by Oath to make him King of Navarr.

Strat.

Here are fine Doings: But be ſure, Arnuſius, you ſpeak nothing; and do not ſtay; but go back, and preſent my Reſpects to my Brother; and take an opportunity to tell Meander that I would ſpeak with him.

Exit Arnuſius.
Pont.

What courſe, Madam, do you intend to ſteer in this prodigious Scene?

Strat.

I intend to take the neareſt cut for my own Security.

Pont.

What is that, Madam?

Strat.

Cut off the Rogue's Head.

Pont.

There can be no ſure Remedy found out ſo long as he is alive; and if a ſpeedy courſe be not taken, the whole Kingdom of France is ruin'd; and we are undone if once he diſcover his Mind to Orlinus.

Strat.

If he has not done it already, I'll do my beſt to ſecure his diſcovering for the future.

Pont.

What Meaſures muſt be taken?

Strat.

You know, Cardinal, you have been the Firſt Mover in this ill-look'd Buſineſs; therefore I beſire you to bend your Wits for our Security, ſince your Credit and undoing lie at the Stake no leſs than mine.

Pont.

What do you adviſe me to, Madam?

Strat.

You muſt arraign him for High-Treaſon; and ſweeten him with the Aſſurance of my Favour, and that he is in no danger of loſing his Life; but that he is brought to a Tryal, to effectuate ſome Deſign of State-Policy, and compoſe ſome dangerous Animoſities of envious and ambitious Men; leſt in ſpite he reveal my eternal Diſgrace.

Pont.

Truly, Madam, if it be as Arnuſius ſays (as I am apt to believe it is) he is guilty of the higheſt of Treaſons; and in ſhewing Mercy to him, you murder your ſelf.

Strat.

I know it; and he ſhall never enjoy my Favour again. His Crime is unpardonable; and nothing can expiate his Guilt, but his Heart's Blood and laſt Breath.

Enter Meander Strat.

O, your Majeſty's welcome.

Meand.

And why your Majeſty, Madam?

Strat.

I hear you have got the Kingdom af Navarr from your Friend Orlinus, for diſcovering to him ſome ſeeret Intrigue of State Policy.

Meand.

Truly, Madam, your Informer is miſtaken.

Strat.

He is not miſtaken, he will ſay it to your Face. Therefore I adviſe you to be ingenuous, to tell the Truth, and acknowledge your Errour; if not, it ſhall be the worſe for you.

Pont.

The Wiſeſt of Men may be overſeen, and ſpeak a raſh Word, which may repent him afterwards, yet not be guilty of any Capital Crime; therefore, Monſieur Meander, I earneſtly requeſt, and humbly beg you to ſpeak the Truth, for the Queen's Satisfaction, eſpecially knowing what Favour and Reſpec 〈◊〉 hath for you.

Meand.

To be real then; and acknowledge my Error: It is as your Informer ſays: And I have promiſed to give Orlinus an account of the Pedigree of the young Prince.

Strat.

It was very unkindly done; but you know that you are the Idol of my Soul; and ſo from thence you take the liberty of doing what you pleaſe; but I requeſt you, Meander, proceed no farther to ruin my Reputation, in expectation of that which you can never enjoy.

Meand.

Madam, I'm wounded at the very Heart, that I ſhould be ſo much overſeen, or rather enchanted by the ſugar'd Breath of that inſinuating Serpent, Orlinus, as once to entertain a thought of being guilty of ſo black and Monſtrous a Crime: But I'll rather die than proceed any farther.

Strat.

Be ſure you keep no Correſpondence with him; for if ever you do, and hear of it, I ſhall never be reconciled with you again: I ſhall hate you as much as ever I lov'd you.

Meand.

It ſhall be ſo, Madam, and I heartily beg your Pardon for what is already paſt.

Exit Meander.
Strat. Perfidious Wretch, Confounder of my Fate, My Blot, my Shame, my Ruin, and Diſgrace. Pontaeus go, go ſoon, now while it's time, Cut off his Head to expiate his Crime. Pont. Madam, I'll go, in haſte, at your Command, And make the Traitor feel my weighty Hand. Exeunt.
The SCENE A place of Execution. Enter Arnuſius and Licoſta. Arn.

How comes Meander off with the Queen?

Licoſt.

We ſhall ſee by and by.

Arn.

But pray, Madam, let me know.

Licoſt.

This is the laſt day of his Life.

Arn.

Is he to die to Day?

Licoſt.

I hope to ſee him ſhorter by the Head to Day.

Arn.

He has been an ambitious and perfidious Man, but I'm heartily ſorry for him.

Licoſt.

Sorry! for a Villain, a Varlet, a Rogue, that had all that the Court could afford, in reſpect of Delight, Riches, and Honour, and ſtrove to ruin for ever thoſe who were his Promoters. Hell take ſuch Impoſtors; they are not worthy to live.

Arn.

And is it certain that he is to die this day?

Licoſt.

Yes; but 'tis more than he knows.

Arn.

'Tis a pity ſo lewd a Liver ſhould not know his Doom.

Licoſt. No pity, let him die, and double die; With his Hearts-Blood I'll write his Elegy. I'll treat my Soul, and Feaſt my Appetite, With Blood and Wounds, in Vengeance take Delight. 〈…〉 Body bury'd in ſome Dunghil lie. 〈◊〉 all his Vitals into Vapours flie. Enter Meander guarded, with Father Pedro; the Executioner following with an Ax. Meand. What need I thus be gazed at, as if I were ſome Traitor or Villain, And were brought here to die for ſome reeking Crime? Pedr.

Ay, and ſo you are like, as I can underſtand; therefore pray think on another World; make Friends in Purgatory.

Meand.

Tell your deluding Fables to ſome ignorant Fop like your ſelf; for I ſhall Tup this Night with the Queen.

Enter Meſſenger, and ſpeaketh to Meander aſide. Meſſ.

Sir, the Cardinal will ſend your Pardon within this quarter of an Hour; therefore deſires you not to be afraid of the Circumſtances you are under.

Meand.

go, and deſire him to make haſte.

Pedr. If you'll confeſs, I'll cleanſe your Soul from Sin; That Saints in Paradiſe may take you in. Meſſ.

The Queen commands his Head to be cut off with all ſpeed.

He whiſpereth the Captain of the Guards, and Exit.
Capt.

Pray, Sir, make haſte, we have no time to delay; be pleas'd to lay down your Head, and receive the ſtroke of Juſtice.

Meand.

Sure it is not ſo bad with you.

Capt.

Ay, but it is with you; and you ſhall and muſt; for it is the Queen's Command.

Meand. Is it ſo? Curſe on the Queen: Is this my Pardon ſent? Am I thus ſerv'd in Jeſt, that did prevent The Kingdom's Conteſt for a Royal Heir; And have not time the Truth now to declare? Pedro and the Captain of the Guards puſh Meander towards the Execution Block. Pedro.

Cut off his Head, cut off his Head.

Licoſt.

'Tis time the Villain ſhould be dead.

Some of the Guards pluck him down to the Block.
Meand. Curſe on Promotion, Honour and Ambition. Once I was high, now in a low Condition. His Head on the Block. The Executioner cuts off h •• Head, whilſt Licoſta pulleth it up in her Hand, beating it on the Noſe, and thruſting her Bodkin through his Tongue. Licoſt. O Bleſſed Sacrifice, I'll treat this Tongue, That of my Shame in open Triumph Sung: Diſſembling Lips that oft have kiſs'd my Mouth, Betray'd my Heart but never ſpoke the Truth. I'm glad to ſee the Stain of Mortals fall, The Kingdom's Curſe, O cruel Canniba! So may all falſe deceitful Lovers be Caſt down by Fate, and die in Infamy. Exeunt.