SCENA II.

Enter Demetr. Leon. Lieu. Gent. Sould. and Host.

Dem. Hither do you say she is come?

Host. Yes Sir, I am sure on't: For whilest I waited upon ye, putting my Wife in trust, I know not by what means, but the King found her, And hither she was brought; how, or to what end—

Dem. My Father found her?

Host. So my Wife informs me.

Dem. Leontius, pray draw off the Souldiers, I would a while be private.

Leon. Fall off Gentlemen, The Prince would be alone. [Ex. Leo and Soul.

Dem. Is he so cunning? There is some trick in this, and you must know it, And be an agent too: which if it prove so—

Host. Pull me to pieces, Sir.

Dem. My Father found her? My Father brought her hither? went she willingly?

Host. My Wife sayes full of doubts.

Dem. I cannot blame her, No more: there's no trust, no faith in mankind.

Enter Antigonus, Menippus, Leontius, and Souldiers.

Ant. Keep her up close, he must not come to see her: You are welcome nobly now, welcome home Gentlemen; You have done a courteous service on the Enemy Has tyed his Faith for ever; you shall find it; Ye are not now in's debt Son: still your sad looks? Leontius, what's the matter?

Leo. Truth Sir, I know not. We have been merry since we went.

Lieu. I feel it.

Ant. Come, what's the matter now? do you want mony? Sure he has heard o'th' wench.

Dem. Is that a want, Sir? I would fain speak to your Grace.

Ant. You may do freely.

Dem. And not deserve your anger?

Ant. That ye may too.

Dem. There was a Gentlewoman, and sometimes my prisoner, Which I thought well of Sir: your Grace conceives me.

Ant. I do indeed, and with much grief conceive ye; With full as much grief as your Mother bare you. There was such a Woman: would I might as well say, There was no such, Demetrius.

Dem. She was vertuous, And therefore not unfit my youth to love her: She was as fair—

Ant. Her beauty I'le proclaim too, To be as rich as ever raign'd in Woman; But how she made that good, the Devil knows.

Dem. She was—O Heaven!

Ant. The Hell to all thy glories, Swallow'd thy youth, made shipwrack of thine honour: She was a Devil.

Dem. Ye are my father, Sir.

Ant. And since ye take a pride to shew your follies, I'le muster 'em, and all the world shall view 'em.

Leo. What heat is this? the Kings eyes speak his anger.

Ant. Thou hast abus'd thy youth, drawn to thy fellowship Instead of Arts and Arms, a Womans kisses, The subtilties, and soft heats of a Harlot.

Dem. Good Sir, mistake her not.

Ant. A Witch, a Sorceress: I tell thee but the truth; and hear Demetrius, Which has so dealt upon thy bloud with charms, Devilish and dark; so lockt up all thy vertues; So pluckt thee back from what thou sprungst from, glorious.

Dem. O Heaven, that any tongue but his durst say this! That any heart durst harbour it! Dread Father, If for the innocent the gods allow us To bend our knees—

Ant. Away, thou art bewitch'd still; Though she be dead, her power still lives upon thee.

Dem. Dead? O sacred Sir: dead did you say?

Ant. She is dead, fool.

Dem. It is not possible: be not so angry, Say she is faln under your sad displeasure, Or any thing but dead, say she is banished, Invent a crime, and I'le believe it, Sir.

Ant. Dead by the Law: we found her Hell, and her, I mean her Charms and Spells, for which she perish'd; And she confest she drew thee to thy ruine, And purpos'd it, purpos'd my Empires overthrow.

Dem. But is she dead? was there no pity Sir? If her youth err'd, was there no mercy shown her? Did ye look on her face, when ye condemn'd her?

Ant. I look'd into her heart, and there she was hideous.

Dem. Can she be dead? can vertue fall untimely?

Ant. She is dead, deservingly she died.

Dem. I have done then. O matchless sweetness, whither art thou vanished? O thou fair soul of all thy Sex, what Paradise Hast thou inrich'd and blest? I am your son, Sir, And to all you shall command stand most obedient, Only a little time I must intreat you To study to forget her; 'twill not be long, Sir, Nor I long after it: art thou dead Celia, Dead my poor wench? my joy, pluckt green with violence: O fair sweet flower, farewel; Come, thou destroyer Sorrow, thou melter of the soul, dwell with me; Dwell with me solitary thoughts, tears, cryings, Nothing that loves the day, love me, or seek me, Nothing that loves his own life haunt about me: And Love, I charge thee, never charm mine eyes more, Nor ne're betray a beauty to my curses: For I shall curse all now, hate all, forswear all, And all the brood of fruitful nature vex at, For she is gone that was all, and I nothing— [Ex. & Gent.

Ant. This opinion must be maintained.

Men. It shall be, Sir.

Ant. Let him go; I can at mine own pleasure Draw him to th' right again: wait your instructions, And see the souldier paid, Leontius: Once more ye are welcome home all.

All. Health to your Majesty. [Ex. Antig. &c.

Leo. Thou wentest along the journey, how canst thou tell?

Host. I did, but I am sure 'tis so: had I staid behind, I think this had not proved.

Leo. A Wench the reason?

Lieu. Who's that talks of a Wench there?

Leo. All this discontent About a Wench?

Lieu. Where is this Wench, good Colonel?

Leo. Prithee hold thy Peace: who calls thee to counsel?

Lieu. Why, if there be a Wench—

Leo. 'Tis fit thou know her:

Enter 2 Gentlemen.

That I'le say for thee, and as fit thou art for her, Let her be mewed or stopt: how is it Gentlemen?

1 Gent. He's wondrous discontent, he'l speak to no man.

2 Gent. H'as taken his Chamber close, admits no entrance; Tears in his eyes, and cryings out.

Host. 'Tis so, Sir, And now I wish myself half hang'd ere I went this journey.

Leo. What is this Woman?

Lieu. I.

Host. I cannot tell ye, But handsome as Heaven.

Lieu. She is not so high I hope, Sir.

Leo. Where is she?

Lieu. I, that would be known.

Leo. Why, Sirrah.

Host. I cannot show ye neither; The King has now dispos'd of her.

Leo. There lyes the matter: Will he admit none to come to comfort him?

1 Gent. Not any near, nor, let 'em knock their hearts out, Will never speak.

Lieu. 'Tis the best way if he have her; For look you, a man would be loth to be disturb'd in's pastime; 'Tis every good mans case.

Leo. 'Tis all thy living, We must not suffer this, we dare not suffer it: For when these tender souls meet deep afflictions, They are not strong enough to struggle with 'em, But drop away as Snow does, from a mountain, And in the torrent of their own sighs sink themselves: I will, and must speak to him.

Lieu. So must I too: He promised me a charge.

Leo. Of what? of Children Upon my Conscience, thou hast a double company, And all of thine own begetting already.

Lieu. That's all one, I'le raise 'em to a Regiment, and then command 'em, When they turn disobedient, unbeget 'em: Knock 'em o'th' head, and put in new.

Leo. A rare way; But for all this, thou art not valiant enough To dare to see the Prince now?

Lieu. Do ye think he's angry?

1 Gent. Extreamly vext.

2 Gent. To the endangering of any man comes near him.

1 Gent. Yet, if thou couldst but win him out, What e're thy suit were, Believe it granted presently.

Leo. Yet thou must think though, That in the doing he may break upon ye, And—

Lieu. If he do not kill me.

Leo. There's the question.

Lieu. For half a dozen hurts.

Leo. Art thou so valiant?

Lieu. Not absolutely so neither: no it cannot be, I want my impostumes, and my things about me, Yet I'le make danger, Colonel.

Leo. 'Twill be rare sport, Howe're it take; give me thy hand; if thou dost this, I'le raise thee up a horse Troop, take my word for't.

Lieu. What may be done by humane man.

Leo. Let's go then.

1 Gent. Away before he cool: he will relapse else. [Ex.