THE LOVERS PROGRESS. (continued 2)
Reading edition
Enter Lisander, and Lancelot.
Lisan. Are the horses dead? Lanc. Out-right. If you ride at this rate, You must resolve to kill your two a day, And that's a large proportion. Lisan. Will you please At any price, and speedily, to get fresh ones. You know my danger, and the penalty That follows it, should I be apprehended. Your duty in obeying my commands, Will in a better language speak your service, Than your unnecessary, and untimely care of my expence. Lanc. I am gone, Sir. [Exit. Lisan. In this thicket I will expect you: Here yet I have leisure To call my self unto a strict account For my pass'd life, how vainly spent: I would I stood no farther guilty: but I have A heavier reckoning to make: This hand Of late as white as innocence, and unspotted, Now wears a purple colour, dy'd in gore, My soul of the same tincture; pur-blind passion, With flattering hopes, would keep me from despair, Pleading I was provok'd to it; but my reason Breaking such thin and weak defences, tells me I have done a double murther; and for what? Was it in service of the King? his Edicts Command the contrary: or for my Country? Her Genius, like a mourning mother, answers In Cloridon, and Chrysanthes she hath lost Two hopeful sons, that might have done their parts, To guard her from Invasion: for what cause then? To keep th' opinion of my valour upright, I'th' popular breath, a sandy ground to build on; Bought with the Kings displeasure, as the breach Of Heavens decrees, the loss of my true comforts, In Parents, Kinsmen, Friends, as the fruition Of all that I was born to, and that sits Like to a hill of Lead here, in my exile, (Never to be repeal'd, if I escape so) I have cut off all hopes ever to look on
Enter Lidian, like a Hermite.
Divine Calista, from her sight, and converse, For ever banish'd. Lid. I should know this voice, His naming too my Sister, whom Lisander Honour'd, but in a noble way, assures me That it can be no other: I stand bound To comfort any man I find distress'd: But to aid him that sav'd my life, Religion And Thankfulness commands, and it may be High providence for this good end hath brought him Into my solitary walk. Lisander, noble Lisander. Lis. Whatsoe'er thou art, That honorable attribute thou giv'st me, I can pretend no right to: come not near me, I am infectious, the sanctity Of thy profession (for thou appearest A reverend Hermite) if thou flye not from me, As from the Plague or Leprosie, cannot keep thee From being polluted. Lid. With good counsel, Sir, And holy prayers to boot I may cure you, Though both wayes so infected. You look wildly, Peace to your conscience, Sir, and stare upon me, As if you never saw me: hath my habit Alter'd my face so much, that yet you know not Your servant Lidian? Lis. I am amaz'd! So young, and so religious? Lid. I purpose (Heaven make me thankful for't) to leave the world: I have made some trial of my strengths in this My solitary life; and yet I find not A faintness to go on. Lis. Above belief: do you inhabit here? Lid. Mine own free choice, Sir: I live here poorly, but contentedly, Because I find enough to feed my fortunes; Indeed too much: these wild fields are my gardens, The Crystal Rivers they afford their waters, And grudge not their sweet streams to quench afflictions; The hollow rocks their beds, which though they are hard, (The Emblems of a doting lovers fortune) Yet they are quiet; and the weary slumbers The eyes catch there, softer than beds of Down, Friend; The Birds my Bell to call me to devotions; My Book the story of my wandring life, In which I find more hours due to repentance Than time hath told me yet. Lis. Answer me truly. Lid. I will do that without a conjuration. Lis. I'th' depth of meditation do you not Sometimes think of Olinda? Lid. I endeavour To raze her from my memory, as I wish You would do the whole Sex, for know, Lisander, The greatest curse brave man can labour under, Is the strong Witch-craft of a Womans eyes; Where I find men I preach this doctrine to 'em: As you are a Scholar, knowledge make your Mistris, The hidden beauties of the Heavens your study; There shall you find fit wonder for your faith, And for your eye in-imitable objects: As you are a profess'd souldier, court your honour, Though she be stern, she is honest, a brave Mistris; The greater danger you oppose to win her, She shews the sweeter, and rewards the nobler; Womans best loves to hers meer shadows be, For after death she weds your memory. These are my contemplations. Lis. Heavenly ones; And in a young man more remarkable. But wherefore do I envy, and not tread in This blessed tract? here's in the heart no falshood To a vow'd friend, no quarrels seconded With Challenges, which answer'd in defence Of the word Reputation, murther follows. A man may here repent his sins, and though His hand like mine be stain'd in bloud, it may be With penitence and true contrition wash'd off; You have prov'd it, Lidian. Lid. And you'll find it true, if you persevere. Lis. Here then ends my flight, And here the fury of the King shall find me Prepar'd for Heaven, if I am mark'd to dye; For that I truly grieve for.
Enter Fryar, and Clarange in Fryars habit.
Fry. Keep your self conceal'd, I am instructed. Clar. How the sight Of my dear friend confirms me. Lis. What are these? Lid. Two reverend Fryers, one I know. Fry. To you This journey is devoted. Lid. Welcome, Father. Fry. I know your resolution so well grounded, And your adieu unto the world so constant, That though I am th' unwilling messenger Of a strange accident to try your temper, It cannot shake you. You had once a friend, A noble friend, Clarange. Lid. And have still, I hope, good Father. Fry. Your false hopes deceive you, He's dead. Lis. Clarange dead? Fry. I buried him; Some said he dy'd of melancholy, some of love, And of that fondness perish'd. Lid. O Clarange! Clar. Hast thou so much brave nature, noble Lidian, So tenderly to love thy Rivals memory? The bold Lisander weeps too. Fry. I expected that you would bear this better. Lid. I am a man, Sir, and my great loss weigh'd duly— Fry. His last words were After confession, live long, dear Lidian, Possess'd of all thy wishes; and of me He did desire, bathing my hand with tears, That with my best care, I should seek, and find you, And from his dying mouth prevail so with you, That you a while should leave your Hermits strictness, And on his Monument pay a tear or two, To witness how you lov'd him. Lid. O my heart! to witness how I lov'd him? would he had not Led me into his Grave, but sacrific'd His sorrows upon mine, he was my friend, My noble friend, I will bewail his ashes; His fortunes, and poor mine were born together, And I will weep 'em both; I will kneel by him, And on his hallow'd Earth do my last duties. I'll gather all the pride of Spring to deck him, Wood-bines shall grow upon his honour'd Grave; And as they prosper, clasp to shew our friendship, And when they wither, I'll dye too. Clar. Who would not Desire to dye, to be bewail'd thus nobly? Fry. There is a Legacy he hath bequeath'd you; But of what value I must not discover, Until those Rites and pious Ceremonies Are duly tender'd. Lid. I am too full of sorrow to be inquisitive. Lis. To think of his, I do forget mine own woes.
Enter Alcidon.
Alc. Graze thy fill, now Thou hast done thy business; ha! who have we here? Lisander, Lidian, and two Reverend Fryars? What a strange scene of sorrow is express'd In different postures, in their looks and station! A common Painter eying these to help His dull invention, might draw to the life The living Sons of Priam, as they stood On the pale Walls of Troy, when Hector fell Under Achilles's Spear; I come too late, My Horse, though good and strong, mov'd like a Tortoise; Ill News had wings, and hath got here before me. All Pythagoreans? not a word? Lid. O Alcidon— Deep Rivers with soft murmurs glide along The shallow roar; Clarange! Lis. Cloridon, Chrysanthes, spare my grief, and apprehend What I should speak. Alc. Their fates I have long since For your sakes mourn'd; Clarange's death, for so Your silence doth confirm, till now I heard not; Are these the bounds that are prescrib'd unto The swelling seas of sorrow? Lis. The bounds, Alcidon? Can all the winds of mischief, from all Quarters, Euphrates, Ganges, Tigris, Volga, Po, Paying at once their tribute to this Ocean, Make it swell higher? I am a Murtherer, Banish'd, proscrib'd, is there ought else that can Be added to it? Lid. I have lost a friend, Priz'd dearer than my being, and he dead, My miseries at the height contemn the worst Of Fortunes malice. Alc. How our humane weakness, Grown desperate from small disasters, makes us Imagine them a period to our sorrows! When the first syllable of greater woes Is not yet written. Lid. How? Lis. Speak it at large, Since grief must break my heart, I am ambitious It should be exquisite. Alc. It must be told, Yet ere you hear it, with all care put on The surest armour anvil'd in the Shop Of passive fortitude; the good Cleander, Your friend, is murther'd. Lis. 'Tis a terrible pang, And yet it will not do, I live yet, act not The Torturers part; if that there be a blow Beyond this, give it, and at once dispatch me. Alc. Your Sword died in his heart-bloud was found near him, Your private Conference at mid-night urg'd With fair Calista; which by her whose pure truth, Would never learn to tell a lie, being granted, She by enrag'd Beronte is accus'd Of Murther and Adultery, and you (However I dare swear it false) concluded Her principal Agent. Lid. Wave upon wave rowls o'r me. My Sister? my dear Sister? Clar. Hold, great heart. Fry. Tear open his Doublet. Lis. Is this wound too narrow For my life to get out at? Bring me to A Cannon loaded, and some pitying friend Give fire unto it, while I nail my breast Unto his thundring mouth, that in the instant, I may be piece-meal torn, and blown so far, As not one joint of my dismember'd limbs May ever be by search of man found out. Cleander! Yet, why name I him? however His fall deserv'd an Earth-quake, if compar'd With what true honour in Calista suffers, Is of no moment; my good Angel keep me From Blasphemy, and strike me dumb before, In th' agony of my spirit, I do accuse The Powers above, for their unjust permission Of Vertue, innocent Vertue, to be branded With the least vicious mark. Clar. I never saw a man so far transported. Alc. Give it way, 'tis now no time to stop it.
Enter Lancelot.
Lanc. Sir, I have bought Fresh horses; and as you respect your life, Speedily back 'em; the Archers of the Kings guard Are every where in quest of you. Lis. My life? Perish all such with thee that wish it longer, Let it but clear Calista's innocence, [Strikes Lancelot. And Nestor's Age, to mine was Youth, I'll flye To meet the rage of my incensed King, And wish his favourites Ghost appear'd in Flames, To urge him to revenge; let all the tortures That Tyranny e're found out circle me, Provided Justice set Calista free.
[Exeunt Lisander, Alcidon, and Lancelot.
Alc. I'll follow him. Lid. I am rooted here. Fry. Remember your dear friends last request, your sisters dangers, With the aids that you may lend her. Lid. 'Pray you support me, My Legs deny their Office. Clar. I grow still Farther engag'd unto his matchless vertues, And I am dead indeed, until I pay The debt I owe him in a noble way. [Exeunt.
Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.
Enter Dorilaus, and Servant.
Dor. Thou hast him safe? Serv. As fast as locks can make him; He must break through three doors, and cut the throats Of ten tall fellows, if that he 'scape us; Besides, as far as I can apprehend, He hath no such invention, for his looks Are full of penitence. Dor. Trust not a Knaves look, They are like a Whores Oaths; How does my poor Daughter Brook her restraint? Serv. With such a resolution As well becomes your Lordships Child. [Knock within. Dor. Who's that?
Enter Lemure.
Serv. Monsieur Lemure. Dor. This is a special favour, And may stand an example in the Court For courtesie; it is the Clients duty To wait upon his Patron; you prevent me, That am your humble Suitor. Lem. My near place About the King, though it swell others, cannot Make me forget your worth and Age, which may Challenge much more respect; and I am sorry That my endeavours for you have not met with The good success I wish'd; I mov'd the King With my best advantage both of time and place, I'th' favour of your Daughter. Dor. How do you find his Majesty affected? Lem. Not to be Sway'd from the rigour of the Law; yet so far The rarity of the Cause hath won upon him, That he resolves to have in his own person The hearing of it; her tryal will be noble, And to my utmost strength, where I may serve her My aids shall not be wanting. Dor. I am your servant. Lem. One word more; if you love Lisanders life, Advise him, as he tenders it, to keep Out of the way; if he be apprehended, This City cannot ransom him; so good morrow. [Exit. Dor. All happiness attend you; go thy ways, Thou hast a clear and noble soul; for thy sake I'll hold that man mine enemy, who dares mutter, The Court is not the sphere where vertue moves, Humanity, and Nobleness waiting on her.
Enter Servant.
Serv. Two Gentlemen (but what they are I know not, Their faces are so muffl'd) press to see you, And will not be deny'd. Dor. What e'r they are, I am too old to fear. Serv. They need no Usher, they make their own way.
Enter Lisander, Alcidon.
Dor. Take you yours, Lisander; [Exit Servant. My joy to see you, and my sorrow for The danger you are in, contend so here, Though different passions, nay oppos'd in Nature, I know not which to entertain. Lis. Your hate should win the victory from both, with justice, You may look on me as a Homicide, A man whose life is forfeited to the Law, But if (howe'r I stand accus'd) in thought I sin'd against Cleanders life, or live Guilty of the dishonour of your Daughter, May all the miseries that can fall on man Here, or hereafter, circle me. Dor. To me this protestation's useless, I embrace you, As the preserver of my life, the man To whom my son ows his, with life, his honour, And howsoever your affection To my unhappy Daughter, though it were (For I have sifted her) in a noble way, Hath printed some taint on her fame, and brought Her life in question, yet I would not purchase The wish'd recovery of her reputation, With strong assurance of her innocence Before the King her Judge, with certain loss Of my Lisander, for whose life, if found, There's no redemption; my excess of love, (Though to enjoy you one short day would lengthen My life a dozen years) boldly commands me, Upon my knees, which yet were never bent, But to the King and Heaven, to entreat you To flye hence with all possible speed, and leave Calista to her fortune. Lis. O blessed Saints, forsake her in affliction? can you Be so unnatural to your own bloud, To one so well deserving, as to value My safety before hers? shall innocence In her be branded, and my guilt escape Unpunish'd? does she suffer so much for me, For me unworthy, and shall I decline (Eating the bitter bread of banishment) The course of Justice to draw out a life? (A life? I style it false, a living death) Which being uncompell'd, laid down will clear her, And write her name anew in the fair legend Of the best women? seek not to disswade me, I will not, like a careless Poet, spoil The last Act of my Play, till now applauded, By giving the World just cause to say, I fear'd Death more than loss of Honour. Dor. But suppose Heaven hath design'd some Other saving means for her deliverance? Lis. Other means? that is A mischief above all I have groan'd under; Shall any other pay my debt, while I Write my self Bankrupt? or Calista owe The least beholdingness for that which she On all the bonds of gratitude I have seal'd to, May challenge from me to be freely tender'd? Avert it mercy! I will go to my Grave, Without the curses of my Creditors; I'll vindicate her fair name, and so cancel My obligation to her, to the King, To whom I stand accountable for the loss Of two of his lov'd subjects lives, I'll offer Mine own in satisfaction, to Heaven I'll pay my true Repentance, to the times, Present, and future, I'll be register'd A memorable President to admonish Others, however valiant, not to trust To their abilities to dare, and do, And much less for the airy words of Honour, And false stamp'd reputation to shake off The Chains of their Religion and Allegiance, The principal means appointed to prefer Societies and Kingdoms. [Exit. Dor. Let's not leave him; his mind's much troubled. Ale. Were your Daughter free, Since from her dangers his distraction rises, His cause is not so desperate for the slaughter Of Cloridon, and Chrysanthes, but it may Find passage to the mercy of the King, The motives urg'd in his defence, that forc'd him To act that bloudy Scene. Dor. Heaven can send ayds, When they are least expected, let us walk, The hour of tryal draws near. Alci. May it end well. [Exeunt.
Enter Olinda, and Lidian.
Oli. That for my love you should turn Hermit Lidian, As much amazes me, as your report Clarange's dead. Lidi. He is so, and all comforts My youth can hope for, Madam, with him buried; Nor had I ever left my cell, but that He did injoin me at his death to shed Some tears of friendship on his Monument, And those last Rites perform'd, he did [b]equeath you As the best legacie a friend could give, Or I indeed could wish to my embraces. Oli. 'Tis still more strange, is there no foul play in it? I must confess I am not sorry Sir For your fair fortune; yet 'tis fit I grieve The most untimely death of such a Gentleman, He was my worthy Servant. Lid. And for this acknowledgment, if I could prize you at A higher rate I should, he was my friend: My dearest friend. Oli. But how should I be assur'd Sir (For slow belief is the best friend of truth) Of this Gentlemans death? if I should credit it, And afterward it fall out contrary, How am I sham'd? how is your vertue tainted? Lid. There is a Frier that came along with me, His business to deliver you a Letter From dead Clarange: You shall hear his Testimonie. Father, my reverend Father, look upon him, Such holy men are Authors of no Fables.
Enter Clarange, (with a Letter writ out) and Frier.
Oli. They should not be, their lives and their opinions, Like brightest purest flames should still burn upwards, To me Sir? [delivers the Letter. Clar. If you are the fair Olinda— Frier. I do not like these cross points. Clar. Give me leave, I am nearest to my self. What I have plotted Shall be pursu'd: you must not over-rule me. Oli Do you put the first hand to your own undoing? Play to betray your game? Mark but this letter. Lady I am come to claim your noble promise, [Reads. If you be Mistris of your word, ye are mine, I am last return'd: your riddle is dissolv'd, And I attend your faith. Your humble servant Clarange. Is this the Frier that saw him dead? Lid. 'Tis he. Clarange on my life: I am defeated: Such reverend habits juggle? my true sorrow For a false friend not worth a tear derided? Fri. You have abus'd my trust. Oli. It is not well, nor like a Gentleman. Clar. All stratagems In love, and that the sharpest war, are lawfull, By your example I did change my habit, Caught you in your own toyle, and triumph in it, And what by policy's got, I will maintain With valour, no Lisander shall come in again to fetch you off. Lid. His honour'd name Pronounc'd by such a treacherous tongue is tainted, Maintain thy treason with thy sword? With what Contempt I hear it! in a Wilderness I durst encounter it, and would, but that In my retired hours, not counterfeited As thy religious shape was, I have learn'd When Justice may determine such a cause, And of such weight as this fair Lady is, Must not be put to fortune, I appeal Unto the King, and he whose wisedom knows To do his subjects right in their estates, As graciously with judgement will determine In points of honour. Oli. I'le steer the same course with you. Clar. I'le stand the tryal. Fri. What have you done? or what intend you? Cla. Ask not; I'le come off with honour. [Exeunt.
Enter Beronte, Clarinda, Malfort, a Bar set forth, Officers.
Ber. Be constant in your proofs: should you shrink back now, Your life must answer it, nor am I safe. My honour being engag'd to make that good Which you affirm. Clar. I am confident, so dearly I honour'd my dead Lord, that no respect, Or of my Ladies bounties (which were great ones I must confess) nor of her former life, For while that she was chast, indeed I lov'd her, Shall hinder me from lending my assistance Unto your just revenge—mine own I mean, [Aside. If Leon keep far off enough, all's secure: Lisander dares not come in, modest blushes Parted with me long since, and impudence Arm'd with my hate, unto her innocence shall be The weapon I will fight with now. Ber. The rack Being presented to you, you'l roar out What you conceal yet. Mal. Conceal? I know nothing But that I shall be hang'd, and that I look for, It is my destiny, I ever had A hanging look; and a wise woman told me, Though I had not the heart to do a deed Worthy the halter, in my youth or age, I should take a turn with a wry mouth, and now 'Tis come about: I have pen'd mine own ballad Before my condemnation, in fear Some rimer should prevent me: here's my Lady? Would I were in heaven, or a thousand miles hence, That I might not blush to look on her.
Enter Dorilaus, Calista, Olinda.
Dor. You behold this preparation, and the enemies Who are to fight against your life, yet if You bring no witness here, that may convince ye Of breach of faith to your Lords bed, and hold up Unspotted hands before the King, this tryal You are to undergo, will but refine, And not consume your honour. Cal. How confirm'd I am here, whatsoever Fate falls on me, You shall have ample testimony; till the death Of my dear Lord, to whose sad memory I pay a mourning widows tears, I liv'd Too happy in my holy-day trim of glorie, And courted with felicitie, that drew on me, With other helps of nature, as of fortune, The envie, not the love of most that knew me, This made me to presume too much, perhaps Too proud; but I am humbled; and if now I do make it apparent, I can bear Adversity with such a constant patience As will set off my innocence, I hope Sir, In your declining age, when I should live A comfort to you, you shall have no cause, How e're I stand accus'd, to hold your honour Ship-wrack'd in such a Daughter. Oli. O best friend, my honour's at the stake too, for— Dor. Be silent; the King.
Enter King, Lemure, and Attendants.
Lem. Sir, if you please to look upon The Prisoner, and the many services Her Father hath done for you— King. We must look on The cause, and not the persons. Yet beholding With an impartial eye, th' excelling beauties Of this fair Lady, which we did believe Upon report, but till now never saw 'em, It moves a strange kind of compassion in me; Let us survey you nearer, she's a book To be with care perus'd; and 'tis my wonder, If such mishapen guests, as lust and murther, At any price should ever find a lodging In such a beauteous Inne! Mistake us not, Though we admire the outward structure, if The rooms be foul within, expect no favour. I were no man, if I could look on beautie Distress'd, without some pity; but no King, If any superficial gloss of feature Could work me to decline the course of Justice. But to the cause, Cleander's death, what proofs Can you produce against her? Ber. Royal Sir, touching that point my Brothers death, We build on suppositions. King. Suppositions? how? Is such a Lady Sir to be condemn'd On suppositions? Ber. They are well grounded Sir: And if we make it evident she is guilty Of the first crime we charge her with, Adulterie, That being the parent, it may find belief, That murther was the issue. King. We allow It may be so; but that it may be, must not Infer a necessary consequence To cast away a Ladies life. What witnesses To make this good? Ber. The principal, this woman, For many years her servant; she hath taken Her oath in Court. Come forward. King. By my Crown a lying face. Clar. I swore Sir for the King: And if you are the partie, as I do Believe you are, for you have a good face, How ever mine appears, swearing for you Sir, I ought to have my oath pass. King. Impudent too? well, what have you sworn? Clar. That this Lady was A goodly tempting Lady, as she is: How thinks your Majestie? and I her servant, Her officer as one would say, and trusted With her closest Chamber-service; that Lisander Was a fine timber'd Gentleman, and active, That he cou'd do fine gambolls To make a Lady merrie; that this pair, A very loving couple, mutually Affected one another: so much for them Sir. That I, a simple waiting-woman, having taken My bodily oath, the first night of admittance Into her Ladiships service, on her slippers, (That was the book) to serve her will in all things, And to know no Religion but her pleasure, 'Tis not yet out of fashion with some Ladies; That I, as the premisses shew, being commanded To do my function, in conveyance of Lisander to her chamber, (my Lord absent, On a pretended sickness) did the feat, (It cannot be deny'd) and at dead mid-night Left 'em together: what they did, some here Can easily imagine! I have said, Sir. Dor. The Devils Oratrix. King. Then you confess you were her Bawd? Clar. That's course, her Agent Sir. King. So, goodie Agent? and you think there is No punishment due for you[r] agentship? Clar. Let her suffer first, Being my better, for adulterie, And I'le endure the Mulct impos'd on Bawds, Call it by the worst name. Cal. Live I to hear this? King. Take her aside. Your answer to this Lady? Cal. Heav'n grant me patience: to be thus confronted, (O pardon Royal Sir a womans passion) By one, and this the worst of my mis-fortunes, That was my slave, but never to such ends Sir, Would give a statue motion into furie: Let my pass'd life, my actions, nay intentions, Be by my grand accuser justly censur'd, (For her I scorn to answer) and if they Yield any probability of truth In that she urges, then I will confess A guilty cause; the peoples voyce, which is The voyce of truth, my husbands tenderness In his affection to me, that no dotage But a reward, of humbleness, the friendship Echo'd through France between him and Lisander, All make against her; for him, in his absence, (What ever imputation it draw on me) I must take leave to speak: 'tis true, he lov'd me, But not in such a wanton way, his reason Master'd his passions: I grant I had At mid-night conference with him; but if he Ever receiv'd a farther favour from me, Than what a Sister might give to a Brother, May I sink quick: and thus much, did he know The shame I suffer for him, with the loss Of his life for appearing, on my soul He would maintain.
Enter Lisander, and Alcidon.
Lisa. And will, thou clear example of womens pureness. King. Though we hold her such, Thou hast express'd thy self a desperate fool, To thrust thy head into the Lions jawes, The justice of thy King. Lisa. I came prepar'd for't, And offer up a guilty life to clear Her innocence; the oath she took, I swear to; And for Cleander's death, to purge my self From any colour malice can paint on me, Or that she had a hand in't, I can prove That fatal night when he in his own house fell, And many daies before, I was distant from it A long daies journey. Clarin. I am caught. Ber. If so, How came your sword into this stewards hands? stand forth. Mal. I have heard nothing that you spake: I know I must dye, and what kind of death Pray you resolve me, I shall go away else In a qualm; I am very faint.
Enter Leon, Servants, and Guard.
King. Carry him off, his fear will kill him. [Ex. with Mal. Dor. Sir, 'twas my ambition, My Daughters reputation being wounded I'th' general opinion, to have it Cur'd by a publick trial; I had else Forborn your Majesties trouble: I'le bring forth Cleander's murtherer, in a wood I heard him As I rode sadly by, unto himself With some compunction, though this devil had none, Lament what he had done, cursing her lust, That drew him to that blody fact. Le. To lessen The foulness of it, for which I know justly I am to suffer, and with my last breath To free these innocents, I do confess all; This wicked woman only guilty with me. Clari. Is't come to this? thou puling Rogue, dye thou With prayers in thy mouth; I'le curse the laws By which I suffer, all I grieve for is, That I dye unreveng'd. Leon. But one word more Sir, And I have done; I was by accident where Lisander met with Cloridon, and C[h]rysanthes, Was an ear witness when he sought for peace, Nay, begg'd it upon colder terms than can Almost find credit, his past deeds considered, But they deaf to his reasons, severally Assaulted him, but such was his good fortune, That both fell under it; upon my death I take it uncompel'd, that they were guilty Of their own violent ends; and he against His will, the instrument. Alci. This I will swear too, for I was not far off. Dor. They have alledg'd As much to wake your sleeping mercy, Sir, As all the Advocates of France can plead In his defence. King. The criminal judge shall sentence These to their merits—with mine own hand, Lady, I take you from the bar and do my self Pronounce you innocent. [Ex. with Leon, and Clari. All. Long live the King. King. And to confirm you stand high in our favour, And as some recompence for what you have With too much rigour in your trial suffered; Ask what you please, becoming me to grant, And be possest of 't. Cal. Sir, I dare not doubt Your royal promise, in a King it is A strong assurance, that emboldens me Upon my humble knees to make my boon, Lisander's pardon. Dor. My good Genius did prompt her to it. Le[m]. At your feet thus prostrate, I second her petition. Alci. Never King Pour'd forth his mercie on a worthier subject. Ber. To witness my repentance for the wrong In my unjust suspicion I did both; I join in the same suit. Lis. The life you give, Still ready to lay down for your service, Shall be against your enemies imploy'd, Nor hazarded in brawles. All. Mercie, dread Sir. King. So many pressing me, and with such reasons Moving compassion, I hope it will not Be censur'd levity in me, though I borrow In this from justice to relieve my mercy; I grant his pardon at your intercession, But still on this condition; you Lisander, In expiation of your guilt, shall build A monument for my Cloridon, and C[h]rysanthes: And never henceforth draw a Sword, but when By us you are commanded, in defence of The flower de Luce, and after one years sorrow For your dear friend, Cleander's wretched fate, Marry Calista.
Enter Lidian.
Lis. On your sacred hand, I vow to do it seriously. Lid. Great Sir, stay, Leave not your seat of justice, till you have Given sentence in a cause as much important As this you have determined. King. Lidian?
Enter Clarange, and Frier.
Lid. He Sir, your humblest subject, I accuse Clarange Of falshood in true friendship at the height; We both were suiters to this Lady, both Injoyn'd one pennance. Clar. Trouble not the King With an unnecessarie repetition Of what the court's familiar with already. Kin. Clarange? Dor. With a shaven crown? Olin. Most strange. Clar. Look on thy rival, your late servant, Madam, But now devoted to a better Mistris, The Church, whose orders I have took upon me: I here deliver up my interest to her; And what was got with cunning as you thought, I simply thus surrender: heretofore, You did outstrip me in the race of friendship, I am your equal now. Dor. A suit soon ended. Clar. And joyning thus your hands, I know both willing, I may do in the Church my Friers Office In marrying you. Lid. The victory is yours, Sir. King. It is a glorious one, and well sets of[f] Our Scene of mercy; to the dead we tender Our sorrow, to the living ample wishes Of future happiness: 'tis a Kings duty To prove himself a Father to his subjects: And I shall hold it if this well succeed, A meritorious, and praise worthy deed. [Exeunt.
Prologue.
A Story, and a known one, long since writ, Truth must take place, and by an able wit, Foul mouth'd detraction daring not deny To give so much to Fletcher's memory; If so, some may object, why then do you Present an old piece to us for a new? Or wherefore will your profest Writer be (Not tax'd of theft before) a Plagiary? To this he answers in his just defence, And to maintain to all our Innocence, Thus much, though he hath travell'd the same way, Demanding, and receiving too the pay For a new Poem, you may find it due, He having neither cheated us, nor you; He vowes, and deeply, that he did no[t] spare The utmost of his strengths, and his best care In the reviving it, and though his powers Could not as he desired, in three short hours Contract the Subject, and much less express The changes, and the various passages That will be look'd for, you may hear this day Some Scenes that will confirm it is a play, He being ambitious that it should be known What's good was Fletcher's, and what ill his own.
Epilogue.
Still doubtfull, and perplex'd too, whether he Hath done Fletcher right in this Historie, The Poet sits within, since he must know it, He with respect desires that you would shew it By some accustomed sign, if from our action, Or his indeavours you meet satisfaction, With ours he hath his ends, we hope the best, To make that certainty in you doth rest.