O princely face and fayre, that lightens all the ayre, Would God my eyes kind fire might life and soule inspire. To thy rich beauty shining in my hearts treasure, The unperfect words refining for perfect pleasure.

Ench. Lie there and lose the memorie of her Who likewise hath forgot the thought of thee By my inchantments. Come, sit down, fair Nimphe, And taste the sweetnesse of these heavenly cates, Whilst from the hollow cranies[72] of this rocke Musick shall sound to recreate my love. But tell me had you ever lover yet?

Luc. I had a lover, I thinke, but who it was, Or when, or how, long since, aye me, I know not. Yet beat my timerous thoughts on such a thing; I feele a pasionate hearte but finde no flame, Thinke what I know not, nor know what I thinke.

Ench. Hast thou forgot me, then? I am thy love, Whom sweetly thou wert wont to entertaine With lookes, with vowes of love, with amorous kisses. Lookst thou so strange? dost thou not know me yet?

Luc. Sure I should know you.

Ench. Why, love? doubt you that? Twas I that lead you through the painted meadows, When the light Fairies daunst upon the flowers, Hanging on every leafe an orient pearle[73] Which, strooke together with the silver winde Of their loose mantels, made a silvery chime. Twas I that winding my shrill bugle horn, Made a guilt pallace breake out of the hill, Filled suddenly with troopes of knights and dames Who daunst and reveld whilste we sweetly slept Upon a bed of Roses, wrapt all in goulde. Doost thou not know me yet?

Luc. Yes, now I know you.

Ench. Come then, confirme thy knowledge with a kiss.

Luc. Nay, stay, you are not he: how strange is this!

Ench. Thou art growne passing strange, my love, To him that made thee so long since his bride.

Luc. O, was it you? come then. O stay a while: I know not what[74] I am nor where I am, Nor you, nor these I know, nor any thing.

Enter Flores with Hance and the Peasant.

Pea. This is the greene, Sir, where I had the cup, And this the bottome of a falling hill; This way I went following the sound. And see—

Han. O see, and seeing eate withall.

Flo. What? Lassenbergh laid bound, and fond Lucilia. Wantonly feasting by a strangers side! —Peasant, be gone:

[Exit Peasant[75]]

Hance, stand you there and stir not.— Now sparckle forth thy beams, thou vertuous Jemme, And lo[o]se these strong enchantments.

Ench. Stay! aye me, We are betrai'd! Haste, spirits, and remove This table and these cups,—remove, I say: Our incantations strangely are dissolv'd.

Exeunt Ench. with spirits and banquets.

Han. O spightfull churles! have they caried away all? has haste made no waste?

Luc. My Lord, Earle Lassenbergh, ô pardon me.

Lass. Away from me.

Luc. O can I in these bands? Forget the dutie of my love to you? Were they of Iron, or strong Adamant, My hands should teare them from my wronged Lord.

Flo. O, Lassenbergh, to what undoubted perrill Of life and honour had you brought your selfe By obstinacie of your froward minde, Had not my fortune brought me to this place To lo[o]se the enchantment, which enthralled you both, By hidden vertue of this precious ring. Come, therefore, friendly and imbrace at last The living partner of your strange mishaps Justly pursuing you for flying her.

Lass. Leave me, I say; I can endure no more.

Lu. Ah, have I loos'd thee then to flie from mee?

Lass. Away! [Exit.

Lu. Ile follow thee,

Flo. Tarrie, Lucilia.

Lu. Deare father, pardon mee. [Exit.

Flo. Sirrah, attend her. Poore wretch, I feare this too much love in thee Is fatall to thee. Up, Sirrah, follow your mistresse.

Han. I, sir, I go; my mistresse dogs the banket and I dog her.

[Exeunt.

Finis Actus Tertii.

[Actus Quartus.]

Enter Motto, Raphe bringing in Alberdure.

Motto. So, sir, lay even downe your handie worke.

Rap. Nay, sir, your handie worke, for you were the cause of his drowning.

Mot. I? I defie thee. Wert not thou next him when he leapt into the River?

Rap. O monstrous lyar!

Mot. Lye! you peasant, go too: Ile go tell the Duke.

Rap. I, sir, Ile go with you, I warrant you.

[Exeunt.

Alb. What sodain cold is this that makes me shake, Whose veines even now were fill'd with raging fire? How am I thus all wet? What water's this That lies so ycelike, freezing in my blood? I thinke the cold of it hath cur'd my heate, For I am better temperd than before. But in what unacquainted place am I? 0 where is my Hyanthe, where's Leander? What, all alone? nothing but woods and streames? I cannot guesse whence these events should grow.

Enter Peasant.

Pea. O that I could lose my way for another cup, now. I was well paide for it yfaith.

Alb. Yonder is one; Ile enquire of him. Fellow, ho! peasant!

Pea. Aie me, the mad man againe, the mad man.

Alb. Saie, whither fliest thou.

Pea. Pray, let me goe, sir; I am not Hyanthe, in truth I am not, sir.

Alb. Hyanthe, villaine? wherfore namest thou her?

Pea. If I have any scarres in my belly, pray God I starve, sir.

Alb. The wretch is mad, I thinke.

Pea. Not I, sir, but you be not madde, you are well amended, sir.

Alb. Why tellest thou me of madnesse?

Pea. You were little better then mad even now, sir, when you gave me such a twitch by the beard.

Alb. I can remember no such thing, my friend.

Pea. No, sir, but if you had a beard you wold.

Alb. What place is this? how far am I from court?

Pea. Some two myles and a wye byt, sir.

Alb. I wonder much my friends have left me thus. Peazant, I pray thee change apparell with mee.

Pea. Change apparell, I faith you will lose by that, sir.

Alb. I care not; come, I pray thee, letts change.

Pea. With all my heart, sir, and I thanke you, too. Sblood y'are very moist, sir, did you sweat all this, I pray? you have not the desease, I hope?

Alb. No, I warrant thee.

Pea. At a venture, sir, Ile change. Nothing venter, nothing enter.

Alb. Come, letts be gone.

Pea. Backe, sir, I pray.

[Exeunt.