SCENA I.

I Shall not be able to get into any Cell: such another fit of drow­sinesse fell upon me, when I saw the Vision of the Sun, which the most Catholique King wears for his Crest, run back so many de­grees—then was I—as I am now—ready to drop down with heavinesse: he that cannot hold up any longer, must needs lie down.

Post tempestatem tranquillitas, After a storm comes a calm; first, famine and fury; then, plenty and riches. This was not revealed un­to me, but for some use that I should make thereof: What though Spain contemn my warnings, it may be Naples will not: if I can do any good, then—so: if not—so, so.

SCEN. II.

I've given you instructions; which if you follow, the Town's ours.

Worthy Patron, this bulk and vessel of mine, shall strike, or hoize up sail, or tack about, agreeable to the wind of your words; and steer accordingly, and imploy all her Oares, to further what you breathe. Provided al­waies, that what you advise, be still for the good of the Republique. O the dear people of God, the too too much abused people, they shall never want my pains and best endeavours to do them good.

About it then, Talk is but talk, 'tis mony buyes land; wit commands money; discretion governs wit; expedition is the life of action, but delaies are dangerous.

About, say you? why I'l run or flie

To serve the Popolo, I'l live, I'l die.

So: if my Engin holds, I'l batter the lofty [Page 4] Tower, that so much threatens depopulations; and level the high wals of Government, with the earth they stood upon: The Axe is already laid to the root of that aspiring Tree, that us'd such droppings on those under-succours, that they could neither rise, nor grow, and spreads her flourishing leaves at such a breadth, that her head cannot perceive the stroaks she now re­ceives, even at her root, till down she fals, that all her Royall Branches lye like sprey upon the ground: I've found a fit subject for to work upon: the man is bold and resolute, active and quick of apprehen­sion; and prodegies run still along with his expressi­ons: The severall opinions which the world conceives of the simplicity of this poor Fisher-man, shall serve for light and ayeriall corks, whil'st the profound and weighty principles, wherewith I have instructed him, shall serve for so many leads and plummers to that net, that shall take whole draughts of Politicians; that shall drive them from swimming in their deeps, and force them to such exigents, that the most contemptible and mean hands, shall take them in their shallows: and well ye have deserv'd it, ye ear-wigs to Kings; you that think the Sacred Unction not sufficient to anoynt your King, except it mingled with the peoples tears.

'Tis you that crown the Royall Temples with Thorns instead of Gold, and put Reeds into their hands insteed of Scepters: It is you that have brought the people from feeding on the food that was ordain'd by God, to live on fruit ordain'd by you: And yet not resting there, you have put Excise on that: And worse then Catterpil­lars, who only were devourers of the fruit upon their trees; ye'have crept into the poor man's basket, and eat a third part of every apple out of the childrens hands: And when I withstood these impositions, as my place and duty bound me, with all the pressing arguments of pity and compassion: As if my words were charms, [Page 5] they stopt their ears, like Adders; and I, for my piety and good advice, was sent to Spain, upon an honourable Embassie, to carry Beleropho his Letters: which lodg'd me in the dungeon; so that 500 leagues, and more, I was forc'd to carry mine own prison, and a Letter, whose lines were all as strong as Irons. But now I'm here ready to act the sweetest of all sins, revenge: Nor will I let it fall like rain upon them, or distill my fury drop by drop, but I will pour my anger forth.

For all is now at stake; the Die is cast:

I'expect my chance; the Rubicon is past.

SCEN. III.

One and all, one and all, one and all, &c.

My Masters, now we are full-bodied, let us chuse a Head, otherwise we shall be subject to confusi­on; and no man knows what to do, or whom to obey.

A Massenello, A Massenello, A Massenello, &c.

Tomaso Amello di Malfa, Generall of the Neopolitanes.

What means this Tumult? Wherfore are these stirs? For what's this insurrection? How occasioned is this commotion? My Masters, if from the Excise, that is on fruit your discontents arise, I'l undertake [Page 6] to ease all your grievances, satisfie all your desires: Let me suffer, let my Wife and Children be sacrifices for the peoples good, if I procure not this good unto the peo­ple: Let my house, and all within it, suffer in the just flames of your high insensments, if I do not procure you all the contentment that your hearts can wish: Only be satisfied for the present, till satisfaction for the future may be had; which may be no lesse welcome unto you, then peaceable unto all.

Don Eletto di popolo, In answer to your grave and learned speech; you must know, that the horse now knows his own strength, and is beholding to you for his understanding, and will not answer your switch and spur so readily as he was wont: they will not take it at your hands, nor at your heels, as heretofore; they will not be rid off their legs, nor out of wind, by every hot spur; Apes must not think to ride fierce Mastiffs, and box them into conformity, now the muzzle's off.

Sir, in a word, our pressures were intolerable; and when the Asse's back is broke, it is time to take off the burthen. Our resolution's this; We will not have the lesser rule the greater strength, nor the fewer rule the multitude, nor one rule all; and that's our resoluti­on.

Noble Sir—

Noble Fool: do'st thou think to catch Tomaso with thy courtly tearms?

He prates, he prates, we have had enough of this, prating, we will have no more prating.

Andiamo.

Viva Massenello, vi [...]a, viva, Massenello

SCEN. IV.

MY Lord, I pray you let me peruse the Letter over again—must? the command is perem­ptory: I would to God, that when they send such musty Letters out of Spain, for such large sums after sums of mo­ney, they would be pleased to direct us waies how we must come by them.

And't please your Majestie, the Excise that's laid on fruit, brings money in apace, and the tax is sure and constant; and a sum of money that will strike a great stroke into the sum that is demanded, may be advanced out of that, if it so like your Majestie.

How great sums of money out of that? Poor people! how they shrink under the burthen we are sorc'd to lay upon them: And having laid Excise on all things upon earth, on fire, in water, the people fly to see what immunities there are in air, and seek for pri­viledges in the tops of trees; and how they may make free meals upon their fruit: but cruelty hath cast up such a trench, whose quick-sets are now grown so high, that they have now (even) enclos'd the com­mon air.

Good your Majestie, be not pleas'd to aggravate too much the hardnesse either of your own, or their con­dition; no Kingdom wherein the people in their severall degrees live more happily, then in this flourishing King­dom of NAPLES, and under your Government: Whereon it stands, like a Mountain, firm upon its basis. Are not the Laws duly executed? Do not the No­bility live in a most splendid and glorious equipage? The Gentry in a most illustrious and seemly deco­rum? But as for this same Popolo, this profanum vul­gus, [Page 8] this bellua mortuorum capitum, these Bores, Pesants and Commons, Goodmen and Gaffers, their backs were made for burthens, and their hands for labour: How will you make your sauces, if you will not squeez your Oran­ges? Or Wine, if you will not presse the Grape? How shall the King of Spain's Souldiers eat bread, if you will not tread the Corn out of the straw? Nature never in­tended, that the Asse should be stall-fed: nor did you e­ver hear of such creatures pampered up, till they were provender-prickt—

Come, come my Lord Controuler, this is not well to pick thanks from some one or two, you draw upon your head the curses of a multitude; and to please some one, you care not though you displease all: but we have too many such now adaies, it would be better if it were otherwise.

Lord Chamberlain, I envy not your Lordship's popularity, which I never esteemed otherwise then a sea­ther in a fool's cap.

My Lord, you said too much; if you do not understand your self, I do; if you have forgotten in whose presence you are, I have not: However, this I shall be bold to tell your Lordship, though it be in the Kings hea­ring, though you have put the Asse upon the people, you shall not put the fool on me. Had we alwaies day, we had need of no other Favours, but the Suns: but seeing we have as many nights, we stand in need of smaller lights; that favour doth not alwaies last.

Good night to your Lordship.

My Lord, you did not well: I do not like these janglings, they bode mischief, they portend no good: [Page 9] my mind presages evil; and these quarrellings are a bad Omen, and put me in mind of a scurvy dream I dream't last night. Methought I was in Spain, hunting the Tauro; and whil'st I was ready for the encounter, the furious beast made at me with more heads then had Briarius hands; and methought looking how, and where to charge, stan­ding near unto a Poplar tree, the wind blew the falling leaves so thick into my face, that I could neither see, nor breath; so that the furious beast bare me to the ground: whereupon I awak't, and found my self in the jaws both of danger and dishonour.

The news, my Lord? Heaven defend us; their looks speak nothing but distraction and horrour: speak out, my Lord, what's the matter?

I met with the Eletto di popolo; here, let him tell his own tale.

O Sir, all the City is risen, commotions are in every part thereof, and the insurrection grows higher and higher.

Now my dream is out: silence: go speedily, and from me, assure them of all the satisfaction can be given them.

I have done it already.

You did not do it from me?

I have, my Leige.

Do it again.

I have engaged my life, the lives of my Wife and Children, and all I have, and they will not hear a word: they say, you have broken your promise with them so oft, that they will not believe a word you say, or what is said in your behalf.

Away, make hast, run, fly, tell them, swear, protest, call God to witnesse, that I intend it, and [Page 10] that you know my intentions to be such, as will give them satisfaction, not only in this, but in more then they desire.

I'l go; but God blesse me, for I fear Hel's broke loose.

Now, my Lord, Sunshine: how goes the day by your Clock?

Marry I think it is almost upon the stroke of twelve.

You shall hear it strike one by and by.

One and twenty, with all my heart, and we may but strike a fast as they. Sir. what will you do? Will you, that I gather strength? and we will crush this Cocka­trice in the egge, and destroy the Monster, whil'st the Dam is in her labour: I'l be the Midwife that shall welcom it by peice meals into the world.

The King is wiser, or I could wish he were.

My Lord, It is not long since your Lordship told me, that the Kingdoms Government stood firm, as doth a Mountain, on its Ballance; but now it can be compared to no Mountain, except Vesuvias, whose flames do run a head, whose big swollen breast vomits out sulphurs more prodigious then that: NAPLES was then pre­serv'd from that eruption, by a contrary wind; and so it must be now too, what you breath, or others may be plea­sed to think, as a present remedy, Nec vult panthera do­mari, the people will not, like a Town-top, fall asleep with scourging: I have seen an unruly horse, when all harsh means could not prevail, stand still with stroking: I'l try that way; when I grant them all, they can ask no more.

Sir, they will not be satisfied with all you grant, except you will grant your self to be no­thing.

I'l warrant you; I have sent unto them, and you [Page 11] shall hear they will be satisfied: they are men, and men have reason, and reason will tell them when they are well.

I tell you, Sir, they are men, and men of reason, yet injur'd men; and there are Devils amongst those men; who laying hold upon the peoples former discon­tents, sow such fears and jealousies in the hearts of the people, that nothing shall satisfie, till they have brought their Devilish, and so long hatch'd design, to some effect▪

O Sir, the people are all mad, and both their mad­nesse and themselves increase: they would not hear the Eletto di popolo, but offered violence to his person: so that he is hardly escap'd, if he be escap'd at all, and they are all marching towards the Palace.

Go, give command the Palace be well guarded: What a tempest is here all upon the sud­den?

O, are you advis'd of that now? pray God it be n't too late.

O thou Angel guardian! lead me by the hand, through this Wildernesse of wild beasts and mases, whose intricate, and so difficult windings, are never to be found out, but by the highest providence, and your assistance, keep my senses from distraction, and let no fear out my reason from its proper office.

O Sir, you are betray'd by your own Guard, who most cowardly and traiterously, upon the ap­proach of the rabble, have put out all their matches, and turn'd the muzzles of their muskets downwards, and stood like so many senslesse statues, as if every soul had suffered an Eclypse, whil'st the rout entred the [Page 12] gates; and possest themselves of the Palace.

Base mungrel curs: have they taught their musket-barrels to submit to Canes? and have their chines of beef bred no better spirits in the bloud within their veins, then to give way to apple-feeders? Dumb dogs! could they neither bark, nor bite?

Sir, it is no time to expostulate, but to save your self.

Save my self: from whom? From Apple-parings? From men whose veins are fil'd with nothing but the juice of Plums? Shall the Scepter submit to a compa­ny of Reeds? I, I, be gon, be gon; see how the wind blows chaffe away: though none stood to me, I should think my self as strongly armed as Jove, that holds thun­der enough in one hand, to frighten a world of men.

Sir, What do you mean? Your Friends have all left you, you are alone.

No, thou art here, my Friend Mon [...]lto; they were never Friends of mine; for Friends would never leave me thus. O adversitie! thou touchstone of mens hearts; I see thou art good for something; forsaken of all; power is fallen to the ground, and no advice remains to help it up: experience, you are come too late to tell me, that,

That Prince his Throne is staid up but in parts,

That i'n't supported by the peoples hearts.

Stand: what would you have?

Silkworm: put up thy Sword: offer but to re­sist us in the least degree, or to disobey us but in a tittle, and thou hadst as good eat thunder, or engage lightning within thy bosom, instead of air: Where's the Vice-King?

I do not know; or if I did, I would not tel you.

Divide your selves, and search the King there, whil'st we search here.

1. Hold; let's bring him to the Mercato; and what we do, do there in the sight of all the people.

2. Will it please your Majestie to give me leave to take you by the coller?

3. And I to take you by the locks?

4. Come along, Jackanapes with a Whim-wham.

Viva il popolo, viva, viva, &c.

What's the matter?

We have found him, we have found him, here he is.

Where? Where is he? Where is the Vice-Roy? What's become of him? Have you lost him? Who had him? No man speak? What's that you were scuffling for? Chikeens? How came they to be thrown amongst you?

The King threw them.

Capitra! Was there ever known such fools, to grasp at shadows, and to lose the substance thus? You all shew your selves to be what you are, and not men like­ly to go through with such a work. I hope you see your er­rour now: and that it may be so no more, seeing you have [Page 14] made me your Generall, I pronounce it death, hence­forth, for any man to keep or preserve any thing, that is the estate of any Delinquent whatsoever, be they Chariots or Horses, Pearls or precious Stones, Cloths of Gold or Silver, but let them all burn, and let Delinquents Hou­ses be fuell for Delinquents goods; that all the World may know, we have not enterpris'd this businesse to enrich our selves, but to vindicate the common liberty: Death and damnation be his lot, that dares transgresse a tittle of that which I command.

Viva, viva, viva, &c.

SCEN. I.

WHere's the Captain of the Castle?

Here.

Make hast, and call the Souldiers together, man your Wals, draw up your Bridges, load your Cannon, charge your Muskets, light your Matches, beat your Drums, call to the Parade, Hel's broke loose, and the Devil leads the dance: O, I fear me, the Vice▪Roy hath suffered already in this tumult.

No, hee's safe as yet, though seiz'd upon by the rudest hands, at a dead lift: the Vice-Roy turn'd Con­jurer, cast a golden apparition before their eies, and so escaped their clutches.

How Conjurer? What golden apparition? Prethee do not trifle with us now: Where's the King? What's become of him?

He is safely hous'd in the next Convent, where, if you send (presently) but the smallest guard, to prevent the worst; they knowing not what is become of him, you may easily conduct him to this Castle.

Captain, make all the hast you can, with what Guard is next at hand, and guard the Vice-Roy hi­ther.

It shall be done.

QƲem queritis adsum?

My Lord the King, welcom, as is Eli­zeum, to a new come soul: how scap'd your Majestie?

As a bird out of the snare, or as a brand out of the fire, engag'd by the hairs, both of my head and beard, hands laid hold upon my coller, and no part of my body unseas'd on.

Strange outrage! and unheard of insolence! how got you loose?

I showr'd down gold upon their heads, which loos'd their hands: so that whil'st they were scrambling for the money, I escaped to the next Convent, and so hither: This is the habit of Father Anthony, that holy man, whom I found there; having purposely left the Woods to fore­warn me of this mischief, but happened to come in the very action, followed me into the Convent, bad me be of good comfort; told me, that all should have a happy en­ding; would not let me stay for any convoy, but put his habit upon me, wherewith I passed (unsuspected) through the thickest of them: This, I am sure, is well, and the other course might not have been so fortunate.

Happy day, and a good presage of future happi­nesse, and prosperous successe.

Sir, I am over-joyed to see you here, and alive: [Page 16] but I wish that I could say, safe, and out of danger; for the place neither assures the one, nor makes you safe from t'other: I have been viewing the provisions and Ammunition of the Castle, and I find neither Am­munition for a daies fight, nor provision for a months continuance.

Captain of the Castle: how do you answer this?

Sir, I can sooner give to your Majestie an answer, then a remedy. Sir, besides my often solicitations of those whom it did concern; here are my Copies of Petitions to your Majestie for both, after months upon months de­laies; here are my assignments for so much bullet, pouder, corn and beef, wine and oyl; here are the Copies of Or­ders to the contrary; so much of this and that for Spain; so much provision and ammunition for the Gallies; so ma­ny quarters of wheat to be sent to Genoa, to make mo­ney; sum totalis, nothing for me. Sir, if any of all these things had grown within the Castle, I would have been an­swerable for the want thereof: but since they do not, but must be otherwise had, I doing my endeavour, and all would not do, I hope your Majestie will hold me excused, and lay the blame on those who worthily deserve it.

This is no time to think of what is past, but how we may help our selves out of the present plunge we are in: they are our Masters now, and there is no wrestling without hands.

Lord Duke, you are a man in some favour with the people, and may happily do good service at this time; it would be very acceptable, if you could do any thing to appease this uproar.

Sir, I understand, that nothing wil satisfie them now, but the priviledges granted unto them by the [Page 15] Emperour Ferdinand, and ratified by Carolo quinto.

You may make them believe priviledges of les­ser moment, to be the same; and 'tis all one to them.

Lord Card: If I should demand the same privi­ledges which they require, interpretation might make me guilty of a crime as black as theirs: And if I should go about to delude them with priviledges, which are not the same, and they find it out, I should run my self upon the fury of a multitude.

My Masters, we have nothing left us now, but every man a head; which that he may keep upon his shoulders, he must make use of his brains; for ought that I can hear, they carry their businesse warily; their pro­ceedings speak order and method; contrivement go along with their design: Believe it, the progresse they have made already, discovers a head, above a vulgar capacity; and the beast, as he goes along, shews, though many heads, yet one above the rest, by whom all are directed: So that Monarchy it self is opposed by that of its own nature; and we must play with them now at their own Weapons.

My Lord Duke, you have a wild Brother, Don Peppe di Caraffa, who we hear is very great with Peroon, Captain of the Bandittoes; so that by your means, he, and all his Associates, may be drawn to our part, and every one of those is worth a hundred door-keepers: And what do ye lack? Let us call them in: yet so, as they first offer their service unto the people, and so possesse themselves of the heart of the City: then shall you go with these pretended priviledges; and if they take, the businesse is ended: if not, you have so many servants at your elbow, ready to defend you, and to bring you off.

Excellently well advis'd: we thank you for your good advice.

'Twas spoke like a Cardinall, and they are the men now adaies, who have ingrossed the exaltations of Kingdoms to themselves, and have appropriated those re­nowned acts unto their own order.

Let the Queen be taught to act her part too, and to go to Massenello's Mother, Wife and Daughters, and col­logue and cog with them.

To stoop to our necessities, is Wisdom sed:

For when the Sun courts Dunghils, there are Serpents bred.

Come, let's about it then, and leave no stone unturn'd, where under may be found our look'd for safety: truly they were much to blame,

Who put us thus to play the after game.

SCEN. II.

SIR, I must tell you here, in the presence of your Mother, your Wife, and Daughters here likewise, that you are much to be blamed; you have committed more goods and monies-worth unto the fire, out of meer vain-glory and ostentation, then would have made you the wealthiest man in the whole Kingdom of NAPLES, and so consequently the wisest, the greatest, the best, the noblest of all the Neopolitans: for wherein is wise­dom most exercised? Then, in the gaining of that which hath the unquestionable command of all things, and that's money: so far I'm right. 2. For greatnesse: Who is great (I pray) but he that hath the world at will? And who's that? but he that hath money at command. Now for goodnesse: Ʋnde derivatur goodnesse? Goodnesse, quasi a nest of goods: get but that, and ye are good e­nough. And Lastly, for Nobility: What is Nobility, but ancient riches? Get good store of old gold, it's no mat­ter whose 'tis, and search for bags that have not seen [Page 3] the Sun this many a day, and then you have ancient riches, and so consequently nobility. Sir, I beseech you to take the advice of him by whose direction you have prospered hitherto: do not so vainly reject and consume that, which is only able to preserve you from oblivion; Palms and Laurels wither in the hands, and on the heads of those who wear them, but riches imbalms a Worthies memory more precious then any statues of brasse or marble; and give him a more lasting fame then a memory that's preserv'd from oblivion by thin paper-wals.

Were I in your condition, the first thing Iw'd do, should be to build my self a house, for the honour of my name: then I would so feather my nest, that Jupiters own Bird, who builds his nest in the Sun, should not think it a disparagement to seek alliance with one of my Chikeens.

Genuino, thou hast converted me, henceforth I will be covetous, high minded, glorious and haughty: and hearken to what I shall say, in order to my conversion. Genuino, the City is rich, we have the power in our hands, why should we not have the riches? The Citizens begin to thrust their thumbs under their girdles, and to make pauses at our demands, and some of them begin to look asquint already upon our actions: Hast thou not observ'd it, Genuino? Genuino, thou hast spoken wisely, money is all in all, and that's the thing we aim at; money is the sinews of War, and the life-bloud to action: let us suck this bloud, and cut these sinews, lest they stand upon their tearms with us: It is requisite that so strong a body shou'd be thus enfeebled, when we know not how long they will take our part: let us but get a world of money, and we care not for the World. Pecunia is the Queen Regent of the Worlds Empire, whose divall jussements being so slenderly regarded, hath been the only cause, why none hath hitherto attained to the Quintessentiall and fift Mo­narchy. And therfore Dame Nature was wisely provi­dent, [Page 20] in hiding with her greatest care, this thing Omni­potent, in the very bowels of the earth; like a carefull Mother, who hides her knives out of her childrens way, till they know how to use them: But we are men, and know full well how to be our own carvers: Let us pro­vide our selves with these necessaries, and none shall live, but such as are beholding to us for doles of meat, and shives of bread: Money will ransom Kings, and make Crowns to pawn their Jewels: Therfore good Genuino, let us have money enough, the City has it: we have the City, and why should we be without it?

Softly, great Tomaso, you are too apt a Scholar; all that you have said is truth, and must be executed: yet so, as that they may seem to enjoy what we are Masters of: Let them be your Cash-keepers, and you shall command whatsoever they have, as readily, as if they were your Ser­vants: Now you have made your self their Conquerour, you must not plunder the City, nor take all away at once; for if you do not leave a nest-egge behind you, the hens will lay no more: What's theirs by providence, must be ours with prudence: We will make them give, or we will use them, as the old Wives use their cakes, when they are grown dry, put them under ground.

Genuino, thou saist well; of all Nations, sools have the least wit; and of all wise men, thou art one for my money.

Sir, you were pleas'd to talk of alliance even now; I forgot to tell you, that the Vice-Queen was here, and said, that her eldest Son should many one of your Daughters, if you will be friends with him.

A pox consound her for an Hypocrite; she came to abuse us, to flout and jeer us: a likely mat­ter.

Not so, carry your businesse handsomly, and he shall be glad to seek it: Where, in all the Royall Palace, is there a prettier Moppet then this same? A wittier [Page 21] thing? I tell you, Sir, she is a Bed-fellow for a Prince, and a Companion for his betters.

What she? marry come up; a blister on the tongue that spake it.

What say you to this girl? She's black, but lovely: If you can force him to any, you may compell him to accept of this; if he may chuse, hee'l chuse nei­ther.

I may do so, but I may chuse: if you shackle Princes, you must have golden bonds, not rustie iron.

Come Genuino, wee'l go and advise about the premises, leave foolish Women to themselves.

Am I but rustie iron? I think my self to be as good mettal as her self: 'Twas a roguish speech.

O Child, remember he is your Father.

My Father? What of that? Let him use me like a Child, I am no rusty piece.

As rusty as thou art, he shall thee, or none: let them consult out, as they please, 'tis your fine face that is the cause of all this stir.

Mother, I never thought it fine; but as it is, God bestowed it, and I hope you will not make Gods gifts my fault.

Go, go, you're a prating baggage.

Good Mother, do not build your discontents upon imaginations so improbable, and unlikely.

Improbable to thee, vile Wretch! but not to her.

I tell you, Sir, you must not do things rashly; take advice: Where have you a King? But such a one is his right hand: Be advised, Sir, Gods themselves did sit in Councel.

I tell thee man, thou shalt be my right hand, [Page 6] and my right foot, and my right eie, and my right ear, and my right, right, right, any thing, if thou wilt be quiet: thou shalt be my chief Secretary, and Councellour of State; you shall be a Queen Mother, you a Queen; and thou, my little Chuck, the new Infanta of Neapolis. I fear nothing, but that I shall want Children, and Kindred, ra­ther then honours and preferments to confer upon them.

Sir, they all expect you in the Mercato, nothing can be done untill you come.

You may be sure of that: Who dares act any thing without you? You are the soul that gives life to the body politique, and the main Engin from whom the wheel of fortune borrows its motion.

'Tis well done of you, thus to let us understand our self.

I remember, when he was but a boy, many a time and oft, when he came home from fishing, he would commend the policy of the Herring, that could make themselves Kings, by their multitudes, notwithstanding the greatnesse of the Whale, and other Fishes: and when I was with Child with him, I dream'd that I was delivered of a son, who as soon as ever he was born, could stand up­on his head.

Mother, I can easily interpret that dream for you; the King is the Head of the People, my Husband shall pull down the King, and bring him under his foot, and so stand upon his Head.

'Tis very likely to be true: a very pretty in­terr retation.

I, but Sister, this should have been done as soon as he was born: for so my Grandmother dream'd.

Goodly, goodly: how you come in with your five eggs a penny, and four of them rotten? The rising of the people was the big swoln belly, that contain'd the bully lad, that should do such feats: and my Father is not two daies old, since he was so born.

I, but Sister, my Grandmother saies, she dream'd how that my Father, as soon as he was born, should stand upon his head; if he stood upon his head, then his feet must be uppermost: how could he tread the King (then) under foot, when he stood upon his head?

Why, that may very well be, too—

I, just as you took shipping to go for Turkie, so I lent you my horse, and you went to Rome.

Vile Baggage! she's alwaies crossing her Sister, and chopping of Logick with her; I'l chop you:

Take that for your labour.

How shall I do, to let my Mother in law, and my Sister know, I have no such ambition, as they think in me, and have themselves? I would I could as well clear their bosoms from those suspicions, as well as I can my own from such vain hopes: they are all fir'd with that, which warms not me: My Grandmother is high-minded; my Father higher; my Mother highest; my Sister high­est of all.

And since there's no degree in height for me, I'l stick unto my old humilitie.

An't please your Excellence, here is a Catalogue of the Delinquents names.

Have you taken examinations duly and truly? for [Page 24] I will do nothing but justice, all those (let me see your pen) before whose name you find this mark.

You understand me, the words out; and see that there be Commissioners appointed to take an Inventory of their goods, and be accomprable to us therfore.

Sir, The Bandits are come faithfully, and accor­ding unto promise: Peroon, their Chieftain; and Don Peppe di Caraffa, Brother to the Duke of Mattal. desire audience.

Bring them in, they're welcom:

These are Blades indeed, that, if occasion serve, will shew my Gallants School-play.

To the thrice worthy, Tomaso Amello di Malfa, Generall of the Neopolitans, are we come to offer our service.

And our lives to be sacrificed in the defence of the most worthy Tomaso, and the Popolo.

We accept your offer, and appoint your guard to our own person.

Trumpets sound.

What noyse is that? Go know the cause.

I am not yet well acquainted with the language of Trum­pers.

The Duke of Mattaloon desires audience and ad­mittance to your Excellence.

Let him have his will, and wee'l have ours.

Peace to this people, and happinesse to Tomaso their Generall, as in the body naturall, so in the politique; there are causes which turn the best bloud into corrupti­on; and against tumescency there are medicines to be used to keep the swelling down, and to hinder the corrupt humours from gathering to a head: if the ef­fects may cease by taking away their causes, I have brought you cure: behold all your desires are granted, here's what you ask.

Peruse them Gen: they did well to send your grace with them: for as nothing could have satisfied the people, but that which you have brought; so nothing could have been more satisfactory, then that they should be brought by you; a man whom the people alwaies had a good opinion of.

Sir, hold, I pray, your commendations are too soon bestowed; these Writings are all counterseit, and not the priviledges of Carolo quinto; upon my life they are.

Hah? Counterseit? My Lord, you have forsei­ted your honour, and your honesty together; and what is more, our good opinion of you; and are indeed no better then a Traitor to your Country.

Sir—Sir—Sir—Peroo—Peppe—can ye endure this insolence to be done to my person?

If that will not off, this will.

Guard the Duke, give the sign to the Castle for sallying out speedily.

And I'l regard ye, ye fine, politick, neat, faceti­ous traitors: give the word there: bid them all make ready: on my soul, Mat. they shall carry thee marching over this full body of resolves; but I will intercept thy passage, which shall be as difficult for thee or them to do, as to march over Vesuvias head. Drums beat aloud and call, our men together; if we stand, we stand; & if we fal, we fall.

Where's this Villain?

Hold dog, I am Don Peppe.

Thou art the man I look'd for.

Dogstar where under I was born! What? Did the fates ordain me to be no better then a Sprat or Whi­ting, to be thus taken by a Fisherman? Yet high and migh­ty Prince, Tomaso, you must cast your net into the Sea once more; the Fish you look'd for, is not caught:

And though I die, the fight this comfort gives, That by my bloud and death, my Brother lives

To give thee thy due, Peppo, thou wer't a brave Fellow, and 'tis pity but that thou hadst been an honest man: In all my life I never heard of a braver piece of ser­vice: And to deal plainly, I was ashamed of the odds, seeing they have done their work: They fought like De­vils, or like men weary of living; they reach'd him into the Castle, as if it had been with a hand stretch'd through a Cloud; and they did it with so much ease, as if so many Sun-beams had made their way through a contrary wind. When they made a stand, they stood like a stretch'd out [Page 28] Rock against an Ocean, bidding defiance to all its Waves: And when they made their way through us, they pass'd like a fierce wind over the heads of corn; then wheel'd about, like a Whirlwind, which rais'd not dust, but a smoke so big bellied wi [...]h fire and thunder, as with the blind thereof they conveyed this Mattaloon safe into the Castle; whil'st some few and inconsiderable (O had we known it) made good the rear with a stand of fifteen naked breasts, against the power of NAPLES, untill cal'd off by order: then made their retreat as orderly, leaving a Bar­ricado between them and us, only of the smoke of pou­der; which with much difficulty, my fellow Cits and Chits got over, but too late to gain any thing, save only the sight of these brave men who did this act. Only here Don Peppe lies, who rather fell into, then by my hands; and, cursed be the rage, and madnesse, mingled with my shame, that coloured my sword with any of his bloud: But I think I rather put him out of pain, then rid of his life: Yes, 'twas so, mortally shot through the back.

Well Peppe, though thou wert mine Enemy, yet I will erect thee a Monument: Death discharges all enmity, and hadst thou liv'd, I had doubted the successe: But

SCEN. I.

HAc non successit alia aggrediemur via: we must tack about again, and take another compasse, before we can arrive at our wished point.

Wished point, do ye call it? The Devil himself would never wish for such a point, as I was like to find: the Devil a point was I likely to arrive at, but the point of death: if you have not better points then these, I will not give three pence a dozen for all the Poynts in your shop.

My Lord, it doth not become Nobility to seem frighted into so much choler: we admir'd your va­lour, took notice of your service, and were about to give you thanks, had you not anticipated those thoughts which we were about to give breath unto.

When a man hath escap'd hanging, I hope your Majestie will give a man leave to be merry after it; I made but a little bold with the Cardinal's language, but I am sure the Cardinall (a pox on his Rhetorick) had like to have been very bold with me: neither do I repent it, since your Majestie doth command me to be serious.

If it be so, my Lord, I am willingly mistaken.

If it were not so, I should willingly have given way to any passion my Lord should please to have been in; for loosers should have leave to speak, and I'm sure he hath lost a Brother, whom we all shall misse as soon as he.

Could Heavens decree have been so satisfied, mine should have paid the ransom for his life; but let us fall to considerations, how we may preserve the lives that are left more considerable.

Lord Cardinall, 'tis you must beat your brains, that must be the anvil whereon all our safeties must be wrought.

My Masters, we cannot expect otherwise then speedily to be beseiged: if so, we must expect speedily to be brought to the severall exigents of famine, and de­speratenesse, with their Attendants, ruine and destructi­on. A Castle without ammunition and provision, is like a Carcasse that hath neither life nor soul; nay, like a Sche­leton, that hath neither flesh nor bloud; therfore these must be had: And for the effecting whereof, this is my advice; Let there be Letters devised to this purpose, that the French are upon the Sea with a great Fleet, and that their design is against NAPLES.

These Letters must be so ordered, as that they may be intercepted by the way: then if this take, and we find them sensible of the danger, you shall intreat Massenello to accept the office of Generall of all the Forces to be rais'd in the defence of the whole Kingdom. And to make this offer appear the more reall, we will call upon all our loving Citizens to arm themselves (for the honour and safety of their Country) with what arms and ammunition they have need of, out of the Magazine; which is no more but what we can neither injoy our selves, nor hin­der them of: so shall we render our selves voyd of all suspicion; then shall we call upon them, as an act of the highest necessity, to provision and ammunition the Castle: Then send for Don John of Austria to come unto our re­scue: so shall we furnish our selves with what is wanting; and by a fear of others, lull them into such security of us, that we may at leisure work all our ends both by Sea and Land, and so gain time, which is only able to restore us.

Your eminence speaks good advice.

This is not all, the Queen shall go on with her old instructions, bear him in hand, with the marriage of [Page 15] his Daughter; assure them all excise to be taken off: pro­mise Mass. that a stately Monument shall be erected in the Mercato, containing all the articles of agreement between you and him, and hereby add such fuell to his proud fire;

Lord Card. Your advice is so good and seaso­nable, that it needs no debate, but execution; let it be done speedily, and use our authority therein as shall be requisite.

Where are you? haw!

Come, sit you down there, and you there, and you shall sit there: by the faith of my body you must take state upon you now: you must not think to do as you have done heretofore: and is it not time you should? Hath not your Son all? Hath not your Husband all? Hath not your and your Father all? Doth not the King, and the Lords, and all the Evil Councellours, hide themselves out of his sight? And doth not he command and rule all the people? Is not all at his disposing? If he bids take off a hundred heads, they must lose them: What shall I say more? In a word, he is all in all.

Nay, I am sure all this is true.

Then all is well.

All the better.

And I must have my all too. All is but vanity.

That was but a vain speech, Sister.

I have another all for you, then: All is not gold that glisters.

This girl is alwaies crossing of her Sister: Vile Wretch!

Peace: how you two are alwaies rangling and jangling: What? can't you agree when you have all be­tween you? You should rather agree, and plot, and con­trive how you may get a share in the Government; sure he will not refuse to hear his Mother speak, I [...]row; and he is a very unkind Husband, that will communicate his secrets unto his own Wife, and shew all that he has unto the Wife that is in his bosom. Have not great Kingdoms been excellently governed by Women? And do you think that the Popedom it self could be so well ordered, if Don Olympia, like a good Huswife, did not keep the Keys? Come, come, if I were as you, I would see what becomes of all the Money, and all the Land, and all the Houses, and all the Houshold-stuff, that is confiscated; I would see, which way it went, and how it was disposed, and to what end and uses, that I would.

Indeed I could wish, that my Son would be rul'd a little.

Mother, he must, and shall: What not hear his nearest and dearest Friend speak? And when 'tis for his own good? Who should he hear?

Mother, your pardon a little: Wife I pray ex­cuse me, I am very busy.

What would you peruse—

No, no, you know I have done with the Land and Houses; I would see what sums of money were ceas'd on to your use.

O here it is.

Read it.

Imprimis, Found in the Duk di Mat: his house, 60000 Spanish Pistols.

Item, in his Villa, 40000 Crowns.

Item, in Don Peppe his house—

Don Diego Devil! how many millions is there in all? What? do you talk to me of Crowns and Pistols? Do you think that I have leisure to hear you prate of Crowns and Pistols?

Sir, there is eleven Millions in all.

So then, eleven Millions, that's something to the purpose, wee'l divide it all amongst our selves; but I've given order that 200 houses be pul'd down already in the Mercato, for the building of my self a Palace; and I allow four Millions out of this money towards the work; I com­mand you see there be Workmen enough provided, that it may be built this Summer.

I pray, will you speak to him? He talks so extra­vagantly, and doth such strange things, that I begin to fear him extremely: besides, he hath not slept a wink this four or five nights together.

Dear Son, I pray you, will you be rul'd?

How? rul'd by a Woman? Mother, I'l tell you a story, the glory of the English Nation and Sex: the Lady Ward was in hot pursuit of a new order of the Je­suitesses, to be granted to her, and her Sisternity, by the last Pope; which not obtaining in his daies, she renews her suit at the entrance of this present Pope into his reign; she makes her addresses, fortifies her desires with the most specious arguments; the Pope sends all his Cardi­nals and Camarers out of the presence, pretends to trust her with the greatest secret in the world, such a one, as he would trust no man withal: whereupon his Holinesse rises up, and fetches a little box, which he delivers unto her, desiring her but to keep it three daies, and then to bring it unto him again; giving her a strict command, not to open it: she carries it home, her Sisters were impatient of being kept ignorant of what was therein contained; she pleads his commands to the contrary, they urge their Warrants of a Non-discovery: [Page 34] assuring her (undoubtedly) that whatsoever were in it, they would be sure to lay it up again, and wrap it as it was before; she yeilds to their temptations; the box is opened, nothing therin but a strange kind of fly, which got away, and could never be recovered, nor the like thereof: The time is come, when the box must be restored; not coming, she is sent for; sent for; comes; there was the box, but no fly; confusion of face, and distracted looks, was all her answer: Whereupon the Pope spake unto the Lady, as followeth, Madam, Now you see your own errour, and the frailty of all your Sex together: you desire, amongst the rest of your requests, that you would have me grant unto your Order, and to your Sex, viz: the power of hearing Confessions: So, saith he, I shall commit the affairs and secrets of the Christian World, to a thing, cal'd Woman; who from first to the last, could never let alone so much as an Apple upon a Tree, or a Bee in a Box, but they must be med­ling, though it were to save or confound the whole World: Therfore, Mother, I pray keep your rules to your self, for I do not mean to be rul'd by any of you all.

What, not by me, who am the Wife in your bosom?

No forsooth: What? hear a rib prate?

O Lord! I would I had my old Husband a­gain.

Why hadst thou ever any Husband before?

I mean, I would I had my Husband now of the old fashion, if honours have so chang'd his manners, that I must not speak to him.

I tell thee, Wife, when I was in case to do so, thou know'st I did it; I made thee privy, heretofore, to all the secret windings and turnings of my Net; and when the businesse was any thing intricate, you know I alwaies cal'd you forth to unfold the mysterie, I cal'd you ever and anon to dilate the businesse, and I alwaies took your ad­vice about the repairing and mending the breaches of that [Page 35] our Commonwealth; you had the fing'ring and ordering, not only of the light corks, but also of the most weighty plummets of our State; I acquainted you from day to day, how many prisoners I had taken, viz. so many Sprats, so many Whitings, so many Gudgeons, so many this, so many that, I with-held nothing from your knowledge; but now the hand of providence hath cal'd me to hold the Scales of Justice; now, to be President of a Councel of State; by and by, President of a Councel of War: Do you think Women are sit Creatures to be consulted with? Must the affairs of State hang upon an apron-string? Look to your dishes, and see that your rooms be well swept, and never think to teach Tomaso what he hath to do.

Most excellent Sir, there's severall poor Citizens without, who beg admittance, and pray that you would do them justice.

Let them have admittance: O, I do love that work alife; I am never well but when I am doing justice; they shall have justice to a hairs bredth.

Most excellent, and thrice worthy Tomaso, we are come to complain of the great injury we suffer by the most unconscionable Bakers; who contrary to all right and honesty, have presum'd to bake such loaves as these, as little as when the Excise was on foot; and want one quarter of their weight, according to the al­lowance.

Do you know the Bakers names?

Yes, here they be.

Carry these men (you I say) unto their own Ovens mouths, and let their Ovens be heated red hot, and put them in, and there let them be bak'd themselves; [Page 36] which will be a terrour to all Bakers, how they bake light bread▪

How long shall they remain there?

No longer, but untill you fee them all over of a crust, and their eies look like parch'd plumbs upon a plumb cake, and then it's time to take them forth.

It shall be done.

I think I have done justice pretty well.

And if it please your Excellence, there are more Citizens without, desiring audience.

Some others, I warrant you, come for justice: bring them in.

How novv, good fellows, what would you have with me?

We are come for justice to your Excellence.

Marry, and you shall have it, with all my heart, as freely, and with as good a will, as ever I came from School.

Sir, here's a list of certain Butchers, who refuse to sell meat otherwise then at the same rates they did, whil'st the Excise was up.

Carry these men unto their own slaughter-houses, and there let them be knock'd on the head, as they knock down their Oxen; and let their throats be cut, as they us'd their Calves.

I think I shall do such justice, e're it be long, that all the World shall admire me.

Sir, there are more Citizens without, with a Petition to your Excellence.

Let them come in: O, I am in my Kingdom now! O, how God-like it is, to rule and sway! I could be [Page 37] contented to forsake meat, drink and sleep, so that I might be doing of justice.

Genuino, read it.

Humbly sheweth,

THat whereas your said Oratours were seated and pos­sessed of good and substantiall houses, and dwelling places, in and about the Mercato; and that by direction from your Highnesse, the said houses, to the number of 200 are ordered to be pul'd down, to give way to the building of your Excellencie's Palace.

Now, forasmuch as your Excellencie's said Oratours are utterly deprived of places of abode:

They humbly pray, that your Excellency will be pleased to take the premisses into consideration, and either to give satisfaction to the said Inhabitants, for their said dwelling houses, or else to provide some other places of abode, whereby they may be disposed of otherwise.

So I will, and that presently: let them be all sent to the Gallies, and there let them make their abode: What? When the foot of Italus his leg was in the grave, I took it by the small, and reach'd it out again: When an Ocean of calamities had overwhelm'd the Land, I made that Sea run back, and keep its channel: and do you now grudge me a place to build my house in? Ungratefull Monsters! you shall soon know, what punishments are belonging to so great a sin.

Your pardon, gracious Sir, we acknowledge our fault, and are heartily contented that your will should [Page 38] be fulfilled; now we understand our selves, and do hum­bly beg your pardon.

Call you this the libertie of the Subject? and the property of what is ours?

I would we had our old Government and Gover­nours.

I am not only good at justice, but I can be as good at mercy, if I please.

Sir, Did you not perceive how they muttered forth their discontents at the present Government and Governours?

I did, my Genuino; but they shall find me of the nature of the Cock, that crows over the same dunghill, whose unnaturall heat gave him so untimely and prepo­sterous production: Their hands have rear'd me up, but I shall not be so easily dissolv'd, as are their bears of snow, which their hands have made unshap'd, and melted to a shapelesse lump, with the least shower of rain: Tomaso is more hard and lasting then brasse or marble; not to be reduc'd to nothing, by the greatest showers of tears, that possibly can fall from the peoples eies. These Citizens, if they abound with such bad humours, as I see they do, I'l purge them, even to the excoriation of their guts, and make them to commend my doings, as men use to praise the biting Mustard with tears in their eies. I'l be their Oracle my self, and mean to confine all truths to my own mouth: I'l be their Colossus, all their Ships shall sail between my legs, and their money shall all run between my fingers: I am not what I am for nought.

Brave Tomaso, how like thy self thou speakest, pro­vender pricking hath made them cast their first Rider; and they will cast you too, if you do not hold them to hard meat.

The corruption of estates is the generation of Souldiers; whil'st you drive away their trade, you drive on your own: and what injury is it to them, to be first made beggars, and then to be paid with their own coyn?

Excellently well advised, my good Genius! How excellently thou speakest!

Sir, The Major and Aldermen are at the dore to wait upon you to the Mercato.

'Tis well then, I shall have justice businesse e­nough to last me all this day; and I'l lay it on, let whose will take it off. Daughter, anon the Prince will visit you, see that you are fit to entertain him in every re­spect.

Truly my Son is strangely altered of late, he is not the same man he was wont to be.

Not suffered to speak to him, despis'd and jeer'd at every word; you hussee, can talk with him in private, and have whole hours discourse together, when his Mother and his Wife, I and his Daughter too, as good as you, are not thought worthy to speak to him.

He is my Father; and what I do, is but in or­der to that obedience, which I owe to him; I cannot be justly accused of any intrusion upon his privacies, and for the common subject of his Discourse, it is as unpleasing unto me as to your self.

Hang you lyar, I don't believe you.

It is a very likely thing; for when my Father cals her to his privy Chamber, O how she trips it along as she goes! How her colour rises! How she starts up when she is cal'd! And makes such hast! I would not [Page 40] be guilty of such dissimulation for the World.

I would not be guilty of so much cruelty for ten Worlds.

What cruelty, you stinking baggage?

Not to believe a body, when one speaks truth: to chide a body for that, which one cannot help: to envy me, for anothers ambition: and, in a word, to make my duty to my Father, a displeasure to my Mother.

Vile Harlot! I'l make that face, the make bate of this divided family, as homely and deformed, as wounds and scars can make it. So, now let the Prince come and visit you, and tell me how he likes you.

Where's my Daughter? Where's Flora? I will shew you a rare flower indeed.

It seems, there was a battail fought in the field, where this flower grew, and too much bloud fell to her share.

Fury, this was thy doings.

Hands off: what and if it were?

Then thus I'd use her that did it.

O me! Father, what have you done? It had been better mine eies had been stab'd out of my head, then left me to behold an act so barbarous.

Stay, gentle Virgin; let me hear how this businesse is, before you go; pray let me hear how 'twas, for it concerns me now; I came to be your Servant, and to elect you for my Mistris.

O Sir, I am altogether unworthy to be your Mi­stris, or your Mistrisses servant; it is enough, that I am your Martyr: wherfore I humbly beg you pardon, Sir;—for I

Have bloud to stench, and also tears to dry.

A lovelier face I never saw: But, is she thus amiable, when she wants those compound ornaments of bloud and tears?

Sir, you did but see the Sun behind a Cloud, or the Moon in an Eclypse, when you beheld my Daughter how: I tell thee Prince, thou shalt see her when her face is wash'd; and, if the scars have not too much disfigured her, you'l say, you saw a Queen, if beauty has domini­on.

She talk'd of being my Martyr, as if she had received those wounds for my sake: how was that?

She did so; and 'twas thus: Flora is my Daugh­ter by a former Wife, that Blackamore mine by this: This envious Woman, envying the happinesse that your affections might throw upon that other Daughter, inten­ded the ruin of her face, to make way for your addresses to this foul Dowdye: when, alack,

Her outsid's not so swarthy, as her insid's black.

She's my Martyr then indeed; methought she look'd very prettily, when the bloud and tears ran races down her cheeks; and methought they did no more disfigure her, then streamers of red and white do misbecome the goodliest ship; and methought she carried a great deal of modestie and humilitie, both in her speech and countenance.

Sir, she is so full of humilitie, that I protest un­to you, I could never get her to open an ear, or to leak into her the least thought of what is now. I could ne'r make her believe it: Father, saith she, forbear this [Page 42] vain discourse; 'tis just such another likely matter; as if you could make me believe, that you could turn the Horses of the Sun into your Cow pasture.

Extreme witty! I shall be in love with this girl, I see.

Whatsoever my Father and you

Most excellent Sir, we have intelligence, and it comes severall waies, and from very good hands: but one especially amongst the rest, to whom we give most credit, is, a Letter to the Vice-Roy, which we intercepted, thin­king it to have contained matters of other consequence; which assure us, that the French are upon the Seas with a mighty Fleet, and they say, their design is, for NA­PLES: Sir, we thought fit to acquaint you with the businesse.

Most excellent Sir, have you provided the mo­ney for the Army, I sent unto you for? I think fit to ac­quaint you also with this businesse.

Sir, the money is most willingly ready, and most readily willing they were all to pay it.

Then most readily willing, and most willingly ready I am, that you should on to your other businesse.

Sir, I have spoken the businesse already, it is concerning the French.

What a pox do we care for the French? or the French with a pox? I would they were here, I long to be doing, now I have command and men enough.

I, but Sir, we are at odds among our selves, and 'tis to be feared—

I tell thee, Major, I'l be friends with the Devil, and salute his Dam, before the French shall have any thing to do here: and because they are so forward, wee'l begin with them first: Go, and see that the heads of all [Page 43] the French men within NAPLES, be cut off (spee­dily Go without any more ado, they shall have justice, I warrant you; justice hath not been executed a great while, and now it takes its course: O how pleasant a thing it is!

Sound Trumpet.

Hark Sir! a parley from the Castle.

Upon my life, it is about this businesse.

It comes very seasonably and welcom; let some know who it is that desires to treat with us.

If the King grants what we ask, then 'tis likely we shall do—what we please, so something may be done.

It is Card: Filomarino, who humbly desires to mediate between the King and the people.

Bring him in; I never spoke with a Cardinall yet, but I believe I shall be hard enough for him.

I am sent by the King, unto the most excellent Tomaso, and to the rest of the most faithfull Neopolitan people, to acquaint them with what great dangers we are all in, by reason of a suddain and unexpected invasion by the French, which is like to find us in all the confusions and distractions, that are able to give them the greatest advantage, and us the most unavoydable ruin that can be­fall a Nation, destinated to destruction: Wherfore, in regard we may, perchance, want this very time, which we bestow in words, to imploy upon more necessary actions, he desires the most excellent Tomaso in the first place: secondly, all his loving people, that they will open their ears to peace, and accept of all that ever he can do, or grant, in pursuance thereof; and that every man that wants arms, or ammunition, will speedily repair unto [Page 44] the Magazine, and there furnish themselves with what is wanting: then the most excellent, and thrice valiant To­maso, is desired, by his Majestie, and the whole Councel, to admit of the conduct of these men against the enemy; an act of oblivion to passe, and all to be well.

Card: What is it that the King will do?

What is it that you would have him do?

Take off all Excise, all, all, all, all, &c.

It shall be done: I'l undertake it.

And an oath never to set any up again.

Not only so, but I will tell you more: there shall be an everlasting Monument of Marble set up in the Mercato, containing the articles of Agreement between the most excellent Tomaso, on the one part; and the Vice-King, on the other.

Now you say something, Card: this is something to the purpose; but there is something behind, which must be done—or else, though all the French in France should fly in the air, like so many Crows into the Land; or come by water in sholes, like Herrings, yet will I not hear of peace, or believe a word you say.

Sir, these hands of mine shall bind them both together, but not a word of priviledges.

Not one word, but mum: Let the Monument be speedily erected, and the Agreement sworn unto; for Card: vve must have no delaies, for they are dangerous.

We will go presently to the Vice-Roy, and have him confirm what is agreed upon: in the interim, your servant presents you with this, as a little pledge of great good will, and this.

Think you, that chains, or cloths of gold, can add? or the want of such poor toyes, diminish from To­maso's worth? He's very barren of just merit, that bor­rows respect from the earths garbage: No, Card: I tell [Page 45] thee plainly, I think my self no more disparaged by these cloaths, then the Sun thinks himself disgrac'd by Clouds.

The most excellent Tomaso speaks admirably: I must confesse, the richest apparel sets him out but mean­ly, who alwaies goes so clothed with renown, and can put on new wonders every day: But Sir, I have known those, who would value pins, and rings of rushes, when they proceed from a heart that truly honours them: such is mine: such is my Present: such may your acceptance be, and it will be the greatest obligation wherewith I ever was obliged.

Well, I'l wear them for your sake, Card: you and I must be better acquainted; thou art an honest man, and speak'st truth, I love such an one: but hark you in your ear—

Yes, yes.

I, I, leave that to me.

Come, let us go then, wy this is excellent; no­thing but ask and have: a brave World, if it will hold.

O tempora! O mores!

SCEN. I.

I Tell thee, sweetest, envy has done thee a cour­tesie, to make thee look ten times lovelyer then thou didst before. I protest, as it is my chiefest delight to look upon thee, so it will be my chiefest hap­pinesse to enjoy thee.

Sir, as it would be an over-high presumpti­on in me, to believe all you say: so to say, I do [Page 46] not believe you were in civilitie, though but to a Gen­tleman, but to my Prince it is rebellion: you say, you love me; nay, you protest you do, and swear it too; I, and that in an honourable way; 'tis a Princes word, a Princes protestation; 'tis a Prince that swears, if any thing can distill into my faith, the least dram of beliefe out of these professions of yours, it must be this; That it is as possible for me, Natures ruff cast, Envies ruin, Poverties child, to appear acceptable in your eies, as it is possible for so good a Prince as you, to swear and vow otherwise then what your heart directs you.

Dearest Love, necessitie requires your speedy assent; and for my love, which you seem so much to doubt of, rest you satisfied.

O Sir, that word, Necessity, is that which wounds my heart; for indeed it is necessity that sends you unto me; there being as little merit in me to invite you, as love has reason to bring you hither.

O Sir, I beseech you, have pity upon me, and let me not be thrown into Paradise over the Wall, where my entrance shall be my ruine; or flung into your arms, or forc'd into your bed, for then I shall fall no welcomer then dirt, upon your cheeks; and shew in your arms no otherwise then reeds and rushes, which a sinking man is glad for to imbrace, to save his life. O, rather then so, most Princely Sir, I beg this favour;

I will be contented, that it may be so contriv'd, that to satisfie my Father's high ambition, it may be given out, that we are married; and so ordered, that there may be no doubt made thereof, untill all be setled: then shall the most excellent Prince chuse him out a Wife, amongst the race of Kings, that may be worthy of him; and blesse me with the happinesse (only) of waiting upon her: for I had rather fall to my old contentment, of sitting alone by the Sea shore, mending my Fathers nets; where I could [Page 47] fancy the pebles to be my Subjects, and the Waves my Courtiers, then to sit with you upon a Throne, where I am not as well seated by your liking, as guarded by your love.

How prettily she pleads against her self! and how forcibly she attracts honour, by flying it! Come, Flora, thou art mine.

Remember your self, and know who I am; I am a Fishers Daughter.

A Fishers Daughter is no good sound: Why did she trouble my ears with it? Let me see; why it is impossible that hu­mane nature can be so much above it self, as is the nature of the Gods above humanitie: and yet we know, that the Gods themselves have been sutors unto that which we call, Woman; and if I make choyce of her, none can say, I have transform'd my self into a Beast, a Bird, or into a thing that is inanimate, as have the Gods.

O, how my trembling heart expects the event of this sole conflict!

Thus it is Resolv'd upon the Question, if you will have it so, Necessity shall marry the Fishers Daugh­ter: but I'l have thee; thee, not by constraint, but by affection; not by compulsion, but by free choyce; not to be the Jone make-peace of our Land, but as one who best deserves my love, and merits me.

Can there be a distinction then, between me, and the Fishers Daughter?

Yes, Flora, such a one as the Sun makes between a vapour and an exhalation; which being one and the same thing, whil'st it cleaves unto the earth, is but a fog: but being exhal'd and drawn up nearer towards the Sun, it appears as glorious as it self.

Great Prince, whose lasting fame is such, that flatteries can neither hurt, nor hyperboles reach, if I were good at either: with what faces will the honourable Women look, when they shall see such a one as I, as your Bride, delivered into holy hands, to be made yours?

With such like faces of wonder and amaze­ment, as the houshold Gods did look, when mortals were exalted above their nature, and had their constellations in the highest Firmament, glob'd by the breaths of all the Gods, whil'st they were tied to residence in taberna­cles made with hands, and yet durst neither envy nor complain.

Sir, You speak such high language, that I am afraid you exercise Rhetorick, rather then Love.

I here engage my honour, as deeply, as the most unfeigned heart can direct a tongue how to oblige it, that I rather want language to expresse my love, then am either vain, or dissembling, in any thing of all which I professe.

Why then, Sir, I can answer you no more, but in this language— weeps —Speak, speak apace, my best Ora­tours; speak out and tell him the news from whence you're come; hee's good, and may, perchance, give credit—

Hold up, celestiall showers, you'l drown a little World: the precious distillations are in value next to penitentiall tears, wherewith the gods oft drink themselves to such a height of kindnesse, that they forget that they are just—Weep upon my bosome, and make the soyl fruitfull in the increase of that, vvhich thine ovvn iust me­rit hath there sovvn vvith a full hand: What! doth shee sink under the burthen of her

[Page 49] owne joyes, Flora, my Flora, cannot my voyce recall thee sooner then waters, my affections are above their heate Flora, my dearest, dear Flora, where hast thou been? what dost thou meane to do?

Sir you may see my senses were all fled, when mine armes presumed to imbrace that Sun it should adore, they are of too base mettall to make a chaine for that necke.

Object that fond objection no more (I charge you) I consider thee now as thy fathers daughter, as thy Fathers Daughter now, I say; who at this time stands the absolutest of Monarchs, and commands all, me, Kings, and Vice-Kings, and the greatest Princes, nor doe I think otherwise then that the Fates prodigiously rais'd him up to this greatnesse to make thee my equall, I am not a Secretary of their State, nor privy Councellour to their wills, but whatsoever their Decrees are, I take it so, and so take thee.

Well then, I'le tell you what I will doe for you, I will bee faithfull to you, I will never offend you, I will alwayes love you, when I am with you, I will bee a servant ready to observe and put in execution all your desires, and when I am out of your sight, wheresoever I am, I wil spend my time in studying how I may next please you when I come into your presence: when you ride from home, I will get up upon the wings of prayer, and will importune Heaven that no bad influence from their Stars may hurt you: I will so charme the earth with the often falling of my tears, that no noisome vapor shall arise to prejudice my love, and when you go into the wars I will have fervency enough in prayer (lawfully) to make you shotfree. When my Love shall charge his enemies the [Page 50] mouthes of their Guns shall lose their voices, and their bullets when they come near my Lord, shall forget their message, Ile so prevail with—

Away, Away, thou little fool, thou: tis the pre­riest little fond thing that ever I saw, what dost thou doe, nothing but weep, she weeps: Ile d [...]y up your rears for you: Come, he kisses her. Will that doe it? the earnest of my hearts union: the seale of all that ever I have said or promised; the assurance of what we are now going a­bout, without more delayes.

Let each man envy, what the gods shall praise.

SCENA II.

How do you like your Mistris, Sirrah?

Well Sir.

Not very well I beleeve.

Yes very well.

Truly?

Truly I doe.

You are not taken with her?

So much taken with her, that Ile take her, and blesse the fates which threw me headlong into so great happinesse.

The boye's in love upon my life.

Sir, Ile tell you, I went unto her as if it had been some miserable Ward forc▪d by his Tyrant Guardian to a peece of some deformity, and to be sacrificed to some soul beast, to preserve a faire estate; but when I came into her presence, I found the world could not parallel her for beauty, when I c [...]nvers'd with her; I saw she was match­lesse for wit, behaviour, language, or any thing, that [Page 51] might compleat or adorne the most accomplished of all her sex: nor shall all the riches in the world invite me for to seek another Mistris; rather then the meanesse of her condition, should be thought a consideration why I should not have her, I would descend to her capacity and tu [...]n fisherman. Nor lyes it in the power of art or force of argument to wean me from her.

Good Son, we are all glad she likes you so wel, we were all afraid we should be faine to use both art and argument, to draw on your affections. But Indeed I have heard many commend her for a pretty girle.

Sir, Massenello is comming towards the Pallace.

I'le goe and bring him in.

By all means. Son, remember you aske y [...]ur father blessing when he comes in.

Sir, I shall aske him for a blessing, and the greatest blessing: that any man alive can give me.

Tomaso is welcome to us very oppor [...]unely, for my sonne was (even) upon your entrance in a high en­comion of your daughter: truly in a word hee's over head and ears in love with her, and I am glad to see it.

Vice Roy, you have reason for what you say: and I hope there is no love lost; my daughter loves him as well, and though I say it, she is a match for the best Prince in Europe.

I make no doubt of it.

But I have not heard your Son speake, yet, con­cerning her, let me hear how you like her from your own month.

Sir, I like her as a new come soule likes Elysium, and with the same affection that the most ambitious man likes sitting in a throne crown'd with his owne hearts desires.

Why then young man thou'rt happy, when will you marry her?

When will the hunger-starv'd wretch eat meat? or the thirsty soule quench his flames? or the man that is a cold come near the fire; but as soon as ere he can.

Why then to morrow is the day, how sayes the Vice King.

With all my heart, the sooner, the better.

Come then we will to the Archive scovato, and there you both shall solemnly sweare before the high Alter to performe all the Articles which are agreed upon between you both, in the behalfe of the new made hap­pier Neopolitans, and by this the Monument contayning the articles agreed upon, is erected in the Mercato, and from the Cathedrall, the Cavalcato in the greatest pompe, shall bring you both as paires coupled in the same de­sires of procuring your Countries good, and there before all the people, you shall consecrate the Monument with your presence; and let them all see how in your peaceable intentions you both meet in parrallels like Apollo's twins, and from thence unto the performance of those nuptiall rates which shall make the peace between you ever­lasting.

The Card. is a good man, he speaks well, but when shall this be done, Card.

SCENA III.

1. HAh Mounsier, have we taken you, off with his head.

O pardon a moy ie vous som pric.

2. Mounsier don't be afraid, we won't hurt your locks, wee'l onely cut off your head.

Vat have I done to you Gentilmen, mort dien?

3 Take heed of his Mistris favours there.

More sacks to the Mill, here's a couple of Mounsiers more, they are cutting off, I know not how ma­ny Mouns. heads every where.

Swounds, I am an English-man, English man, English man, Engleterra, Engleterra.

2. He cries Engleterra, Engleterra, and the Rogue speaks French.

3. You don't know, it may be English for ought you know.

1. A pox confound him, he's a French-man, you may know him by his points hanging at the wrong end of his breeches.

2. Away with him then, off with it, off with it, cut off his head, let it be cut off, though there were no more heads in England.

Damn me, and ram me, and sinke me, I am an English-man; what a devill doe you meane to dee with me, I am an English man, I tell you, what won't you [Page 54] beleeve a body when a body tells you the right: Sounds I am an English-man; hell confound you all for a com­pany of Arse-wormes, Turky-drivers, and Goat mongers; what a devill would you have? won't you beleeve a body with a pox?

3. Pish, pish, you may see he is a French-man by his locks and favours, and by his garnished cotpeece.

Away with him, away him, cut off his head.

What a pox are you, are all starke mad? is there never a wise man amongst you, that understands English.

A plague confound you all, a devills dogs couples, hags and furies light upon you, for a company of hog dogs, and cow-dogs, and vinegar-bottles.

If he will not be ordered, hold up his head, and cut his throat.

Hold Gentlemen, hold I pray you, he is an Eng­lish-man, we know him.

3. You came in a very good time, or else you had sound your Country-man shorter by the head.

Shorter by the head ke they? hearlikins; I was never in such a feare in all my life: a pox on them for a company of block-heads, they could not understand sense, nor heare reason; a company of cuckoldly curs, take my head off: 'Tis more then they could do, or else it had not been on now.

You are well enough serv'd, you must be in the French-fashion forsooth, with your all a mode de France, with your locks, favours, and [...]ibbans.

Got by it: nay what had I like to have lost by it? for I am sure I had like to have lost my head by it which is more then ever I should have got by them as long as I had liv'd; but if they ever find me with your all a mode, de France, as you call it, I'le give them leave, not onely to cut off my head, but to make a devill of me when they have done, pray change cloaks, and hats with me.

Doe you heare friend; what's the price of your Cods-head?

You see what it is, 'tis a French mans head.

I pray let me have it, I will give thee mony for it.

What mony will you give me?

What mony will you aske?

A French Crowne.

What shall I crowne him now his head's off, hee'l be little the better for that.

You shall have it for halfe a Crowne.

What shall I give thee for that sword?

Yours.

Thou shalt, for this is an all a mode de France too, I'le endure um no more.

Fee fo fum, hoh what are you French men?

1. French, Mercy, Mercy, Mercy, Mercy: Making pitti­full faces.

Eng. Rise up Sir Christopher Boon-grace.

2 French, A Sir, you be de good Englishman, mee can spreake little English, me have been one, two, three times in London, spare you me I pre.

English, Come thou shalt see London the fourth time You must not bee so fearefull, had I been so tame as you, whereas now I am a cutter off of heads, I might have cari­ed mine own head thus.

Who have you there?

They are English Gentleman of my acquaintance.

SCENA. IV.

BEhold the hierogliphiks of our peace and happi­nes, the landskipp of a joyful Country, the Map of a world of good that is derived unto us by this days hap­pinesse, a monument which gives the best characters of the most wise King, and the most invincible Tomaso, here is the originall, peruse it and see if they agree not.

They agree to a word.

Tis well, but is't not pitty that the winde should blow upon it? or that the rayne should fall upon so faire a peece? or that the Sun should fade any of its coulours? or that bold and forward hands should sully any of its pre­cious stones? or that time it selfe, should eate, this, with the rest of things?

Most excellent Sir, I have given directions for a safeguard of Iron, whose bars shall be so high and sharpe, that not any shal be able to behold it, otherwise then at their due distance.

But Card: have you made any provision against Winde and Weather? that time it selfe may never fill her paunch with such bits, as are too great dainties for such a common feeder.

What the most excellent Tomaso shall think fur­ther fit to the preservation of that which preserves so great fame, wee shall bee glad admirers of, but for my owne particular, I have given no further directions concern­ing it.

Then I shall, where's Sig. Burlameo.

It was nobly resolved on.

Burlameo I will have thee post to Egypt (hah doest thou stare upon me?) and there take patterne of the big­gest Piramis that's there, and make me a shelter over this monument fifty cubits higher than the highest of all Egypts Piramides, and that shall be a Penthouse to keep it from the rain, so that that greedigut Time shal find it the hardest bone to picke, that to feed upon it, it shall loosen the old teeth of aged time, that they shall drop out faster than these stones shall fall, and at last finde it meate of so hard dige­stion that time it self shall take so great a surfeit that it shall cease to be.

And dying yeeld unto eternity.

Ah Massenello, ah Massenello, ah Massenello.

This is enough to make him starke mad, lets fol­low h [...]s humour.

S [...] I heare you, and having taken measure of your mind, Il [...] f [...] i [...] to a haire,

When the d [...]vill's blinde, your resolutions are like your selfe, great and glorious.

This age is happy that hath produc'd a man fit for so high and mighty undertakings.

Now nothing's left undone, but that which must be done, the marriage.

SCENA: V.

Is the Pothecary comming? prethee go and fetch him to me, and stay you without.

I'le fetch him presently Madam,

My Mothers death I will revenge on her who was the cause of it, b [...]sides ten thousand hazards I will run, before Ile suffer her to prince it over me, that face which age could neither blemish nor years decay shall looke as pale as death can make it. I'd rather dye my selfe then she should live to be so much above me, and thought worthy of so high estate whilst I neglected, stand like a forelorne hope perishing for want of seconds, and why? because I am blacke and shee's faire, marry muff: I thinke my penny as good as her's.

Honest Pothecary I sent for thee to doe me a pleasure, I am so troubled with Rats in my chamber that I cannot be quiet for them, I pray thee teach me a way how I may de­stroy them.

Madam I will fetch you some Rats-baine imme­diately.

No, no, That's but a scurvy weak poyson, they'l take it and live so long after it, that they'le creep hehind the Wainscot and get into holes, and there lye and stinke, able to poison any living soule, I would have a quick dispatch­ing poyson that shall worke presently upon them that they shall not stir from the place.

Mad: I warrant you, Ile fetch you such a poyson as shall do the feate.

Why well said honest fellow: here's for thy paines.

I thanke you Maddam, I never was so rewarded for killing of Rats, I pray God shee puts it to no worse use, but why should I suspect any thing, shee payes mee liberally.

My Lord, though I am not worthy to indent with you, or ingage you to the least promise, yet I may be in ca­pacity of begging a favour at your hands:

What is it? and command what lyes within my power.

Here is my only sister, please you to take notice of her, and let her bee within your thoughts to make her happy.

As happy shall shee bee as industry it selfe can find out wayes to make her so-

I thanke you Sir: I pray Sister keepe your hap­pinesse [Page 60] to your selfe, I doe not desire to be made happy by you.

She flings out of the roome, and takes the Pot. with her, re­mains in occulto.

What an unmannerly sister is this of thine.

Sir, It may be she cannot brook this happinesse, wherewith you'r pleas'd to crowne me, and the more I seek to please her, the worse she is.

She's angry that she's so blacke, and thou so faire.

Not so my Lord, but it may be she is angry that a Prince of so great judgement should be so much decei­ved in his choice, as is able to verefie the proverb how that love is blinde.

But I'le tell thee my dearest dear, thy sister is mad that I am not a Sutor unto her, and I had as live be a Sutor unto the shades of night, and imbrace a moon-calfe as to be l [...]nckt to such deformity.

Not so an't please your highnesse, shades oft­tinies are sought for, when the brightest Sun-beames are eschewed; and though a black one please not you, she may be pleasing in anothers eye.

Come, come, I know and see her conditions to be as foule as is her visage, which is the index of her minde; 'tis thy goodnesse to say otherwise.

Well Sir, I that am so happy in your affections, have the lesse reason to be troubled at your dis-affection to any else but indeed I must intreat you to love my sister, though.

Well then, to morrow when she is my sister, I'le begin to love her, because she is my sister, though there be as much difference between thee and her, as be­tween night and day.

Now your highnesse is pleas'd to speake of nights and dayes, when I thinke how that there is no day to come, onely one night to passe, before you make me beleeve, I shall be your wife; my joyes begin to be orewhelm'd with feares, and sadnesse takes possession of my heart, and outs those wonted lively apprehensions of the happinesse I heretofore conceived of being yours: surely my heart hath onely room for you to cast anchor there, and so possesse me of some hope, but not to bring the Sovereigne of a Sea of blisse, laden with the riches of your love into so poor a harbour.

Humility is the crowne of all other vertues, and thou crownest humility, with such a becomingnesse, that shee is true humility no where but in thee; and it deserves an exaltation, which it shall soon finde.

SCENA I.

Massenello steals in the night time unto his Monument to adore it, clad in his night Gow [...]e.

THus in the night of secresie have I stolne time from sleep, that I might sacrifice with uncontrolled devotion, unto the Idea of my minde [He adores it.] Tis a faire peece. They were fools who thought to make Babels Tower reach heaven by building of it high. Approaches made to heaven, doe [Page 62] not consist in degrees of height, nor are steps, and rounds of staires, and ladders wayes to climbe up thither, heaven is every where where men, God-like behave themselves.

Come wee'l be thought men no more; I begin to be im­mortall the symptomes of mortallity begin to leave me, sleep: that dull and sencelesse block-head, begins to know his distance; and to thinke himselfe no fit com­panion for us, hunger and thirst, begin to stand aloofe, and not to rush so boldly into our presence as they were wont. I will shake off them too, and then mortallity good night.

Alexander was an Asse, he would be deified, but never deserv'd it: he went with an Army of drunken Grecians, and so stumbled upon a victory; but did he overcome a warlike Nation with a company of boyes and canes? did he frighten a company of daring Spaniards into their re­treat, and ruin with the ruffling of a company of blew aprons? he that will become a Deity, must not rest himselfe contented with the attributes of High and Mighty, but he must be wonderfull: And now I think on [...], I will goe and bethinke my selfe (how I may teach the people how to flye, that things call'd walls, and towers, flanckers, and counter-scarfes, pallisadoes, and stockadoes, fitter to keep hogs and dogs from entrance, then men indued with so rare a thing as is a soule, surely this invention was lest for me to bring into the world; I'le make them as good keep out the wind, the light, the common ayre, as keep out me; and so I'le conquer all the world, and not like foole Alexander, lye downe and cry, because there be no more worlds to conquer. I'le goe and be merry with the gods, drinke their wine, sing cat­ches with the angells, hunt the Devill, run races with the horses of the Sun, hob-naile my shoos with a couple of old Moons, and so drinke a pot at every one of the ce­lestiall [Page 63] signes. It is decreed, nor shall thy fort, O Rome resist my vow.

SCENA II.

DAughter, the Prince hath sent you word that he is comming to fetch you to Church, eat this be­fore you go, because state nuptiall ceremonies are very tedious.

Grandmother, I humbly thanke you: but I am so strait lac'd that I cannot get any thing down.

Come, come, you shall; there's a fine trick in­deed, you may chance wish you had.

I, and repent it too, I'le assure you.

I doe not like it: there is something in it, that hath not a good taste—O I begin to feel it work, Grandmother I'm poisoned.

How poyson [...]d? nay child I'le assure you there's nothing in't but what is good; for I am sure I put all the ingredien [...]s in't my selfe: you shall see me eat of it.

Mother don't, you don't know what may be.

Don't: I'm sure there▪s nothing in't but good.

O my senses begin to fail me, and this poysonous drug begins to worke upon my vitalls.

Cursed caitiffe, what hast thou done, poysoned thy Grandmother and thy sister.

I told you that you should not eat of it, and yet you would.

Why then thou confessest the murther.

I doe, but not of you, you might have chus'd, now let us see in what fine pompe she'l go unto her wed­ding.

Here's the murtheresse lay hold on her.

What's the matter?

Poysoned, and I too by that infernall hag.

Furies light upon her, O my dear Flora, run, and without there is a Padua Doctor, bid him come hi­ther quickly, quickly, quickly. O my deare Flora, she breaths, she's alive, she's warme. O helpe, helpe, helpe, for the Lords sake.

Now Doctor shew your skill, and be renown'd for ever­more.

Sir, I have an antidote that if it hath not too much wrought upon the vitals, it will recover her; how­ever, it will fetch her to her senses againe for a while.

So it will dissolve of it selfe, hold her up.

She begins to looke up already.

Dost thou know me? O I will punish that black devill with a hundred tortures.

No my dear Lord, let not my sister be put unto any tortures for my sake; for I forgive her with all my heart, and thanke God that he hath given me so much sense be­fore I dye, as to make it my last request to you, that you would do so too. I was once entring into the finest place that ever was seen; such fine flowers, such rare musicke, such glorious creatures! and the door was open [Page 65] for me, and all, and my thought some body pull'd me back and told me that one would speak withme? was it you.

Deare heart it was I, would you not willingly if it lay in your power, forbeare that place a while for my sake?

Though you are the finest man in the world, yet you are not so fine as any there, but I pray don't you doe any thing to my Sister, don't disgrace her.

She hath poisoned her Grandmother too, here she lyes.

I am sorry for it, why would you use so much di­ligence to recall me, and extend no charity to her.

Sir, it doth her hurt to talke so much, a little sleep will doe her good, if any thing, and gentle musicke would be requisite if it may be had;

Yes, call for the musick that was appointed for our nuptiall feast, and let them change their note, to sad Eligies. Carry that Cerberus bitch out of my sight, and let her be cut into a thousand peeces, and cast to dogges.

She awakes, the musicke ceaseth.

O Sir I must bid you farewell,

Stay a little my dearest Flora, I will marry thee in spight of death, that when I meet thee in another world I may claime thee as one that was sometimes mine. Priest do your office: stay a while, go fetch the murderesse, that I may doe it in spight of envy.

Sir she is dead.

Bring her in dead.

Sir She is cut in peeces.

Bring in the peeces.

Sir they were throwne to the dogges, and the dogs have eaten them.

Let me have the dogs brought in, for by all thats sacred.—Flora makes signes to speak with him.

Sir she would speake with you, she feels her self departing.

What would my dearest have with me.

O Sir, I feele my selfe now going to the place from whence you called me backe, doe so no more for cha­rity sake, I gladly would have lived yours I must confesse, but I am happier in this, that it thus lies in my power to expresse a fitter tribute of my love to you, rather thus to die your Martyr, then to live your wife, like Icarus I fly'd,

And soard too high, fell downe and di'd.

Where are these fooles that will, and won't bee married: why don't ye come away, they all stay for you?

O Sir, your devill daughter hath forbid the Banes.

What's here to doe, my mother and my daughter dead? who durst do this? that death himselfe (had I for­bid him) durst not do it.

Your owne daughter, poisoned your own mother, and her owne Sister.

Where is she, she shall have justice.

That is done already.

How, justice done already, are you turn'd justicia­ry? I thought there had been no more Justices but my selfe.

I thought according to the Articles of our agree­ment, you were to become a private man, and to have no­thing to do with justice businesse.

I tell thee thou Prince of Darkenesse, I am immor­tall.

I will not dispute with you in that argument, on­ly give me leave to take away this relique, that I may pay the tribute of mine eyes thereto, and performe the last kind office of a lover, in seeing her honourably interred.

Why didst thou love her truly? wouldest thou have been married to her?

Would you be wedded to your wil.—

Nay, if thou lovest her but halfe so well, take her and much good do thee with her.

My mother dead, my wife dead, my daughter dead, al dead? why now I stand by my self like the popular star, fixt in his seate, and all the heavens of great and little ones do move about me. Me thinks that presumptuous boy began to talke of articles, doe they thinke that Ile be confin'd to articles, the sun may be confin'd within its tropickes, the [Page 68] Sea may be confin'd within its bounds, the earth may be confin'd in a circle: but Tomaso, cannot, will not bee confin'd: Ile therefore goe, and presently confound, that presumptuous monument that dares confine Tomaso with­in any tearmes, had it root fixt in the very center, I would pluck it up: or did the articke and antarticke poles, strike through it as stayes to hold it up, I'de cast it downe, I'le have my words law, my will reason, my pleasures obser­ved, and my commands obeyed, I do not like this hoc nihil indeclinabile, i'de have ut sunt Divorum, Mars, Baccus, Apollo, Virorum, O I love to be like one of these thundring gods, I'le tell you what, I'le begin a new world, and if men wo'nt follow me it is no matter, it is but to teach foxes how to speake, they have cunning and subtlety enough, Lyons have strength, and valour, horses courage, dogs di­ligence, and faithfullnesse. It is but teaching these the use of reason, and we will bid defiance to all mankind: and what is this to one that is immortal: but first I must down with this confining monument. I go about it.

SCENA III.

WEE are all resolved to honor that faire body parted from as faire a soule, with as great solemnity as if shee were my owne daughter, or my owne sonnes wife.

O Sir, the honour of those rich jewells which were ingaged within this breast that's now turned to earth; can­not be let downe, or an inventory taken of halfe the good [...] she had there laid up in store, were all men in the worl [...] registers, the world paper, and the Ocean incke, The pens would scrawle the paper, and the paper drink That Inckie Ocean up: the worke unfinish'd lye: And a thousand pities call for new supply.

We all contribute sorrow to your sufferings, and pray we may not suffer too much with you.

Goe know the reason of this noyse,

I pray that all be well, the fellow was mad e­nough before, and it may be this will make him ten times worse.

I 'tis no matter, and if he be; if [...]he people be not all mad.

I have brought you a great many of disconten­ted people, who seem to be as much displeased with the times as we; I thinke we shall be very good company together.

Friends speake your mindes freely, we give you leave.

Then Sir know; this Tomaso is mad: stark mad: he runs up and downe the streets, striking every man, that comes in his way; has thrown downe the Articles, will stand to nothing, breeds confusion, and turnes all topsie turvy.

This is the Idoll which ye first set up, and then ador'd, now ye know the difference, betwixt a golden Scepter, and an iron rod.

I but a pox confound him, he made us beleeve such strange stories, and we see n [...]thing performed, where­fore we are come unto you in the behalfe of the rest of our fellow Citizens to make our grievance knowne, and to crave your assistance for our redresse.

Alas how can I helpe you!

Nay Sir, we'l helpe you: and our selves too, and you'l but give us leave.

My Masters, it was your own fault that brought you to this, and it must be your owne vertue to bring y [...]u [Page 70] out of it againe; he is of your owne making, and now you would faine be rid of him if you knew how.

Yes we know how to be rid of him, and you'l give us leave.

How.

Wee'l serve him as he serv'd us.

No, as he serv'd us.

Ha, Ha, He.

About it then if you have the hearts.

I tell you Sir he is as dead already to my think­ing as a doore nayle.

In the interim by all means let the Secretary be sent for, as about some earnest businesse, lest he prevent the plot, and when 'ti done, that we may be sure of him.

My Lord, I pray will you take the pains.

This is that which I was speaking unto you of, we must lay hold upon the present disgust of the people, and make it serve our turnes, these joyned together with the Morcato men, will make a good lusty party.

Here is the Secretary, I met him comming to your Highnesse.

What is your pleasure Mr. Secretary?

Sir I am sent unto you in the behalfe of the people, who heare how that there is a great resort of Ci­tizens unto the Castle, and those m [...]n of no good report.

And what then? what of that? what would you have?

They would know their businesse, and would not have you thus to countenance them; and further, they would have you leave the Castle, and remaine with them for their security.

What people is that which you are come from? they were people that were here, and of more loyalty and understanding then the people that have sent you hither. Your Master's mad already, and you are little better.

Well Card. ere it be long you shall think your selfe the maddest of the three.

This villain must not goe alive out of the Castle, if he doe, hee'l spoyle the plot and us.

Sir, I desire your speedy answer.

Our answer is your dismission; you may be gone.

Is that all?

Thou sawcie peece of insolence, darest thou con­test with Majesty, be gone.

I go—but—remember this

Let the fool go, hee'l be met with, I warrant you.

Doe ye knew the man?

Yes, here he comes.

That's he.

Open the gate there, let downe the bridge.

What are you? I will not open the gate, I have no order for it.

Well you shall rue it ere it be long.

Doe you threaten the Kings guard? take that:

O I am kill'd.

It makes no matter, you should have a better tongue in your head then.

SCENA IV.

WOnders! wonders! without all bounds and measures. Death and Cupid quartered together last night in the same room: Venus call'd up her boy betimes, time call'd death, present employment was for both: the more haste, the worse speed: death groping for his quiver in the morning, laid his hand upon Cupids, and h [...]s eyes being out of his head, takes the boyes quiver for his owne: Cupid as blinde as he, took the deadly quiver in his hand, and dressing himselfe in the morn­ing, in ordering his wings, disorders some of his feathers in brusing them against deaths head, Venus having in­telligence that her son had got such a chamber-fellow, to prevent mistakings brings in the light of nature; Cu­pid whose feathers were not right, reaches and stretches out his wings, flutters, and claps them too and againe, and blowes out the candle: goe then as you are, said Venus to Cu [...]id, Time said the like to Death; both never rested from journying till they came to my very doore, being come there, they both strove for priority; Death said, he scorn'd to give place to Cupid, because he was but a boy; and the boy answered him as prettily againe, that he scorn'd to be beholding to him, and so flew in at the window: By this unfortunate mistake, death who intended to strike me, slew my daughter; and Cupid that would have play'd his part with Flora, over-acts his part with me: Here I have it, here I burne. I cannot say I swim in love, but I am over head and eares: But where shall I entertaine my Mistris? I will have all this great City contriv▪d into one house, and the inha­bitants shall leave being Citizens, and become officers; [Page 73] its no matter for their liberties, so they be my servants, for that shal be their greatest freedom. Ile have my house well furnish'd with Taxes and Rates, and hung about with Sequestrations: For I must tell you, Sirs, I am be­come immortall, and will make ye all Kings; but ye must be rul'd by me, for ye shall see me flye in the ayre, walke upon the water, run through the fire, hang up the terrestiall globe, upon one of the Celestiall poles, and it shall so hang by the secret invention, that all Sum­mer long it shall swing towards the North, in Winter towards the Southerne clime: so that both Summers heat, and Winters cold shall be no more, but a sweet temper all the yeare: nothing but Spring and Autome, pleasure and profit, shall ye have. This is the golden age the Poets prophesied of. I tell you what, they never sprinkled holy water over Vesuvias head; for if they had, it would have quenched its flames. To morrow I am to be married to Don Olympia. I bid you to my wedding. The triple Crowne's mine owne already; and me-thinks I heare the keys jingling in my pocket.—

1. Peo. He talks extravagantly.

2. Peo. Hee's wild me-thinks.

3. Peo. Stark mad.

Come downe.

Come downe I say.

Come downe, why so I will come downe; Time is to lose his fore-top, and Cupid is to be whipt; what would you have?

Your head:

Take it.

SCENA V.

A Solemne funerall of Mass. in warlike manner passes over the Stage, Mass. open fac'd after the manner of the Italians lyes carri▪d upon a Beere, he makes crosses, blessing the people with a counterf [...]it right hand, that is directed by a Fryer who stands under the Beer; the people cry out wonderfull, wonderfull, he blesses us, he was a Saint, and dyed our Martyr; this was but a trick of the royall party, who shall know that there are a hundred Massenelloes more in Naples.

HEre they are, here they be, let's fall upon them, while we may, we have lost too many such op­portunities; make ready my Masters.

Gentlemen, what doe you meane?

We meane to let you know, what tis to murther

whose selfe alone was worth you all; 'twas but their hands that acted what your heads contriv'd, for which you shall soon suffer.

Let but these your executioners go with me to the grave, that I may but lay, my dearest Saint to rest in peace, and then do what you please; and for mine own part, if I aske you life, let me not live; for as her death did give my sorrows life, so my death will ease my paine, and end my sorrow.

He blesses us againe: O holy Saint!

This was a Saint, not call'd a Saint, but as you see confirmed by wonder, and the hand of miracle.

By the hand of an impostor. If you will be undeceived, you may look under the Beere, and you shall finde a Jugler playing the Hocus Pocus with you.

If neither the lawes of God, nor the lawes of na­ture, or the Land, nor the rule of reason, yet let experience beare some sway, let palpable demonstrations worke upon you, what do you doe with eyes and eares, if you will not believe their intelligence? do you not see your selves cous­ened? Do you not see your selves puppet plaid into a new war? O return therfore to your old obedience, & your hearts cannot desire more than your Prince will give you, what is past shall be forgotten, and forgiven, 'tis the false Cler­gy (my deare Citizens) who have contributed the fuel, laid it together, set live coales under it, and then have been the bellowes to all those combustions, as if all mischeifes had been but so many exaltations of their braines, set on fire by the continuall motions and agitations of their tongues, witnesse this incendiary, O returne, returne! unto your Prince, whose armes were alwayes open to re­ceive you into his bosome, whensoever you should make it, though but your last refuge.

Wel then good people, since 'tis so with you, you and the children that are yet unborne shall have justcause to say this was a happy day, and ye shal soon find the differ­ence between a suppositious and a natural parent: Al things shall be so forgot as if they had not been, And perchance

We'le laugh our follies out of countenance.

Vita il Re di Spaine, vita, vita, vita.

Trumpets sound, Heraulds proclaime.

To all persons of what degrees and qualities soever, is proclaimed a generall pardon by the most—

Ha, whose that, that talkes of a general pardon? the word revives me, and hath brought me my soul again, and hath fastened once more unto this clog.

Your pardon, and Ile speake the Epilogue.