Volume 6 — THE Queen of Corinth,

Era. The General is returned then? Nean. With much honour. Sos. And peace concluded with the Prince of Argos? Nean. To the Queens wishes: the conditions sign'd So far beyond her hopes, to the advantage Of Corinth, and the good of all her Subjects; That though Leonidas our brave General Ever came home a fair and great example, He never yet return'd, or with less loss Or more deserved honour. Era. Have you not heard The motives to this general good? Nean. The main one Was admiration first in young Agenor, (For by that name we know the Prince of Argos) Of our Leonidas wisdom and his valour, Which though an enemy, first in him bred wonder; That liking, Love succeeded that, which was Followed by a desire to be a friend Upon what terms soever to such goodness; They had an enterview; and that their friendship Might with our peace be ratified, 'twas concluded, Agenor yielding up all such strong places As he held in our territories, should receive (With a sufficient Dower, paid by the Queen) The fair Merion[e] for his wife. Era. But how Approves the Queen of this? since we well know Nor was her Highness ignorant, that her Son The Prince Theanor made love to this Lady, And in the noblest way. Nean. Which she allowed of, And I have heard from some familiar with Her nearest secrets, she so deeply priz'd her Being from an Infant train'd up in her service, (Or to speak better, rather her own Creature) She once did say, That if the Prince should steal A Marriage without her leave, or knowledge, With this Merione, with a little suit She should grant both their pardons: whereas now To shew her self for sooth a Spartan Lady, And that 'tis in her power, now it concerns The common good, not alone to subdue Her own affections, but command her Sons; She has not only forc'd him with rough threats To leave his Mistriss, but compell'd him when Agen[or] made his entrance into Corinth To wait upon his Rival. Sos. Can it be The Prince should sit down with this wrong? Nean. I know not, I am sure I should not. Era. Trust me nor I, A Mother is a name, but put in ballance With a young Wench 'tis nothing; where did you leave him? Nean. Near Vesta's Temple, for there he dismiss'd me, And full of troubled thoughts, calling for Crates: He went with him, but whither, or to what purpose I am a stranger.

Era. They are come back Neanthes. The. I like the place well. Cra. Well Sir? it is built As if the Architect had been a Prophet, And fashion'd it alone for this night's action; The Vaults so hollow, and the Walls so strong, As Dian there might suffer violence, And with loud shrikes in vain call Jove to help her; Or should he hear, his Thunder could not find An entrance to it. The. I give up my self Wholly to thy direction, worthiest Crates; And yet the desperate cure that we must practice Is in it self so foul, and full of danger, That I stand doubtful whether 'twere more manly To dye not seeking help, or that help being So deadly, to pursue it. Cra. To those reasons I have already urg'd, I will add these. For but consider Sir— Era. It is of weight What e'r it be, that with such vehement action, Of Eye, Hand, Foot, nay all his bodies motion, Crates incites the Prince to. Nean. Then observe, With what variety of passions he Receives his reasons; now he's pale, and shakes For fear or anger; now his natural red Comes back again, and with a pleasing smile He seems to entertain it; 'tis resolv'd on Be it what 'twill: to his ends may it prosper Though the State sink for't. Cra. Now you are a Prince Fit to rule others, and in shaking off The Bonds in which your Mother fetters you Discharge your debt to nature, she's your guide, Follow her boldly, Sir. The. I am confirm'd, Fall what may fall. Cra. Yet still disguise your malice In your humility. The. I am instructed. Cra. Though in you[r] heart there rage a thousand tempests, All calmness in your looks. The. I shall remember. Cra. And at no hand, though these are us'd as agents Acquaint them with your purpose till the instant That we employ them; 'tis not fit they have Time to consider, when 'tis done, reward Or fear will keep them silent: yet you may Grace them as you pass by, 'twill make them surer, And greedier to deserve you. The. I'll move only As you would have me: Good-day Gentlem[e]n; Nay, spare this ceremonious form of duty To him that brings love to you, equal love, And is in nothing happier, than in knowing It is return'd by you; we are as one. Sos. I am o'r-joy'd, I know not How to reply: but— Era. Hang all buts; my Lord, For this your bounteous favour— Nean. Let me speak, If to feed Vultures here, after the halter Has done his part, or if there be a Hell To take a swinge or two there, may deserve this. Sos. We are ready. Era. Try us any way. Nean. Put us to it. The. What jewels I have in you! Cra. Have these souls, That for a good look, and a few kind words Part with their Essence? The. Since you will compell me To put that to the tryal, which I doubt not, Crates, may be, suddainly will instruct you How, and in what to shew your loves; obey him As you would bind me to you. Cra. 'Tis well-grounded; Leave me to rear the building. Nean. We will do. Cra. I know it. Era. Any thing you'll put us to. [Exeunt.

Leo. Sister, I reap the harvest of my labours In your preferment, be you worthy of it, And with an open bosom entertain A greater fortune than my love durst hope for; Be wise, and welcome it: play not the coy And foolish wanton, with the offered bounties Of him that is a Prince. I was woo'd for you, And won Merione: then if you dare Believe the object that took me was worthy, Or trust my judgement, in me think you were Courted, sued to, and conquer'd. Mer. Noble Brother, I have, and still esteem you as a Father, And will as far obey you; my heart speaks it: And yet without your anger, give me leave To say, That in the choice of that on which All my lifes joyes or sorrows have dependance, It had been fit e'r you had made a full And absolute grant of me to any other, I should have us'd mine own eyes, or at least Made you to understand, whether it were Within my power to make a second gift Of my poor self. Leo. I know what 'tis you point at, The Prince Theanor's love; let not that cheat you; His vows were but meer Courtship; all his service But practice how to entrap a credulous Lady: Or grant it serious, yet you must remember He's not to love, but where the Queen his Mother Must give allowance, which to you is barr'd up: And therefore study to forget that ever You cherisht such a hope. Mer. I would I could. Leo. But brave Agenor, who is come in person To celebrate this Marriage, for your love Forgives the forfeit of ten thousand lives, That must have fall'n under the sword of War Had not this peace been made; which general good Both Countreys owe to his affection to you: O happy Sister, ask this noble Lady Your bosome friend (since I fail in my credit) What palme Agenor's name, above all Princes That Greece is proud of, carries, and with lustre. Bel. Indeed Fame gives him out for excellent; And friend, I doubt not but when you shall see him [Ent. a Ser. He'll so appear to you. Art sure 'tis he? Ser. As I live Madam— Bel. Virtue enable me to contain my joy. 'Tis my Euphanes. Ser. Yes. Bel. And he's in health? Ser. Most certainly Madam. Bel. I'll see him instantly. So prethee tell him. [Exit Ser. Mer. I yield my self too weak In argument to oppose you: you may lead me Whither you please. Leo. 'Tis answer'd like my Sister; And if in him you find not ample cause To pray for me, and daily on your knees, Conclude I have no judgement. Mer. May it prove so: Friend, shall we have your company? Bel. Two hours hence I will not fail you. Leo. At your pleasure Madam. [Ex. Leo. and Mer.

Bel. Could I in one word speak a thousand welcomes (And hearty ones) you have 'em: Fie, my hand, We stand at no such distance, by my life The parting kiss you took before your travel Is yet a Virgin on my lips, preserv'd With as much care as I would do my fame To entertain your wish'd return. Euph. Best Lady, That I do honour you, and with as much reason As ever man did virtue; that I love you, Yet look upon you with that reverence As Holy men behold the Sun, the Stars, The Temples, and their gods, they all can witness; And that you have deserv'd this duty from me; The life, and means of life, for which I owe you, Commands me to profess it, since my fortune Affords no other payment. Bel. I had thought, That for the trifling courtesies, as I call them, (Though you give them another name) you had Made ample satisfaction in th' acceptance, And therefore did presume you had brought home Some other Language. Euph. No one I have learn'd Yields words sufficient to express your goodness; Nor can I ever choose another theme And not be thought unthankful. Bel. Pray you no more As you respect me. Euph. That charm is too powerful For me to disobey it: 'Tis your pleasure, And not my boldness Madam. Bel. Good Euphanes, Believe I am not one of those weak Ladies, That (barren of all inward worth) are proud Of what they cannot truly call their own, Their birth or fortune, which are things without them: Nor in this will I imitate the world, Whose greater part of men think when they give They purchase bondmen, not make worthy friends: By all that's good I swear, I never thought My great estate was an addition to me, Or that your wants took from you. Euph. There are few So truly understanding or themselves Or what they do possess. Be[l]. Good Euphanes, Where benefits Are ill conferr'd, as to unworthy men, That turn them to bad uses, the bestower For wanting judgement how, and on whom to place them, Is partly guilty: but when we do favours To such as make them grounds on which they build Their noble actions, there we improve our fortunes To the most fair advantage. If I speak Too much, though I confess I speak well, Prethee remember 'tis a womans weakness, And then thou wilt forgive it. Euph. You speak nothing But what would well become the wisest man: And that by you deliver'd is so pleasing That I could hear you ever. Bel. Fly not from Your word, for I arrest it: and will now Express my self a little more, and prove That whereas you profess your self my debtor, That I am yours. Euph. Your Ladyship then must use Some Sophistry I ne'r heard of. Bel. By plain reasons, For look you, had you never sunk beneath Your wants, or if those wants had found supply From Crates, your unkind and covetous brother, Or any other man, I then had miss'd A subject upon which I worthily Might exercise my bounty: whereas now By having happy opportunity To furnish you before, and in your travels, With all conveniencies that you thought useful, That Gold which would have rusted in my Coffers Being thus imploy'd, has rendred me a partner In all your glorious actions. And whereas Had you not been, I should have dy'd a thing Scarce known, or soon forgotten: there's no Trophy In which Euphanes for his worth is mentioned, But there you have been careful to remember, That all the good you did came from Beliza. Euph. That was but thankfulness. Bel. 'Twas such an honour, And such a large return for the poor trash I ventur'd with you, that if I should part With all that I possess, and my self too In satisfaction for it, 'twere still short Of your deservings. Euph. You o'r-prize them Madam. Bel. The Queen her self hath given me gracious thanks In your behalf, for she hath heard Euphanes How gallantly you have maintain'd her honour In all the Courts of Greece: and rest assur'd (Though yet unknown) when I present you to her, Which I will do this evening, you shall find That she intends good to you. Euph. Worthiest Lady, Since all you labour for is the advancement Of him that will live ever your poor servant, He must not contradict it. Bel. Here's your Brother, 'Tis strange to see him here.

Cra. You are welcome home, Sir, (Your pardon Madam) I had thought my house, Considering who I am, might have been worthy Of your first visit. Euph. 'Twas not open to me When last I saw you; and to me 'tis wonder That absence which still renders men forgotten Should make my presence wish'd for. Bel. That's not it, Your too kind Brother understanding that You stand in no need of him, is bold to offer His entertainment. Cra. He had never wanted, Or yours, or your assistance, had he practis'd The way he might have took, to have commanded, Whatever I call mine. Euph. I studied many, But could find none. Cra. You would not find your self, Sir, Or in your self, what was due to me from you: The priviledge my birth bestow'd upon me Might challenge some regard. Euph. You had all the Land, Sir, What else did you expect? and I am certain You kept such strong Guards to preserve it yours I could force nothing from you. Cra. Did you ever Demand help from me? Euph. My wants have, and often, With open mouths, but you nor heard, nor saw them; May be you look'd I should petition to you As you went to your Horse; flatter your servants, To play the Brokers for my furtherance, Sooth your worst humors, act the Parasite On all occasions, write my name with theirs That are but one degree remov'd from slaves, Be drunk when you would have me, then wench with you, Or play the Pander; enter into Quarrels Although unjustly grounded, and defend them Because they were yours; these are the tyrannies Most younger Brothers groan beneath; yet bear them From the insulting Heir, selling their freedoms At a less rate than what the State allows The sallary of base and common Strumpets: For my part, e'r on such low terms I feed Upon a Brothers trencher, let me dye The Beggars death, and starve. Cra. 'Tis bravely spoken, Did what you do rank with it. Bel. Why, what does he You would not wish were yours? Cra. I'll tell you Lady, Since you rise up his Advocate, and boldly, (For now I find, and plainly in whose favor My Love and Service to you was neglected) For all your wealth, nay, add to that your beauty, And put your virtues in, if you have any, I would not yet be pointed at, as he is, For the fine Courtier, the womans man, That tells my Lady stories, dissolves Riddles, Ushers her to her Coach, lies at her feet At solemn Masks, applauding what she laughs at; Reads her asleep anights, and takes his oath Upon her Pantoffles, that all excellence In other Madams do but zany hers: These you are perfect in, and yet these take not Or from your birth and freedom. Euph. Should another Say this, my deeds, not looks should shew— Bel. Contemn it: His envie fains this, and he's but reporter, Without a second, of his own dry fancies. Cra. Yes Madam, the whole City speaks it with me, And though [it may] distaste, 'tis certain you Are brought into the scene, and with him censur'd; For you are given out for the provident Lady, That not to be unfurnish'd for her pleasures (As without them to what vain use is greatness) Have made choice of an able man, a young man Of an Herculean back to do you service, And one you may command too, that is active, And does what you would have him. Bel. You are foul-mouth'd. Cra. That can speak well, write Verses too, and good ones, Sharp and conceited, whose wit you may lie with When his performance fails him; one you have Maintain'd abroad to learn new ways to please you, And by the gods you well reward him for it, No night (in which while you lye sick and panting) He watches by you, but is worth a talent: No conference in your Coach, which is not paid with A Scarlet Suit; this the poor people mutter, Though I believe, for I am bound to do so, A Lady of your youth, that feeds high too, And a most exact Lady, may do all this Out of a virtuous love, the last bought vizard That Leachery purchas'd. Euph. Not a word beyond this, The reverence I owe to that one womb In which we both were embrions, makes me suffer What's past; but if continu'd—— Bel. Stay your hand, The Queen shall right my honor. Cra. Let him do it, It is but marrying him; and for your anger Know that I slight it: when your goddess here Is weary of your sacrifice, as she will be. Bel. Be not mov'd, I know the rancor of his disposition, And turn it on himself by laughing at it; And in that let me teach you. Euph. I learn gladly. [Exeunt.

Nean. You are met unto my wishes, if you ever Desir'd true mirth so far as to adventure To dye with the extremity of laughter, I come before the object that will do it; Or let me live your fool. Sos. Who is't Neanthes? Nea. Lamprias the Usurers Son. Era. Lamprias? the youth Of six and fifty? Sos. That was sent to travel By rich Beliza, till he came to age, And was fit for a Wife? Nea. The very same, This gallant with his Guardian, and his Tutor, (And of the three, who is most fool I know not) Are newly come to Corinth, I'll not stale them By giving up their characters, but leave you To make your own discoveries: here they are, Sir.

Tutor. That leg a little higher; very well. Now put your Face into the Travellers posture; Exceeding good. Uncle. Do you mark how they admire him? Tut. They will be all my Scholars, when they know And understand him truly. Era. Phœbus guard me From this new Python. Sos. How they have trimm'd him up Like an old Reveller! Nea. Curl'd him and perfum'd him, But that was done with judgement, for he looks Like one that purg'd perpetually; trust me, That Witches face of his is painted too, And every ditch upon it buries more Then would set off ten Bawds, and all their tenants. Sos. See how it moves towards us. Nea. There's a salutation: 'Troth Gentlemen, you have bestowed much travel In training up your Pupil. Tut. Sir, great buildings Require great labours, which yet we repent not, Since for the Countreys good we have brought home An absolute man. Unc. As any of his years, Corinth can shew you. Era. He's exceeding meagre. Tut. His contemplation— Unc. Besides, 'tis fit Learners should be kept hungry. Nea. You all contemplate; For three such wretched pictures of lean famine I never saw together. Unc. We have fat minds, Sir, And travell'd to save charges. Do you think 'Twas fit a young and hopeful Gentleman Should be brought up a glutton? he's my Ward, Nor was there ever where I bore the bag Any superfluous waste. Era. Pray you can it speak? Tut. He knows all Languages, but will use none, They are all too big for his mouth, or else too little T' express his great conceits: and yet of late With some impulsion he hath set down In a strange method by the way of question, And briefly to all business whatsoever That may concern a Gentleman. Nea. Good Sir, let's hear him. Tut. Come on, Sir. Nea. They have taught him like an Ape, To do his tricks by signs: now he begins. Onos. When shall we be drunk together? Tut. That's the first. Onos. Where shall we whore to night? Unc. That ever follows. Era. 'Odds me, he now looks angry. Onos. Shall we quarrel? Nea. With me at no hand, Sir. Onos. Then lets protest. Era. Is this all? Tut. These are, Sir, the four new Virtues That are in fashion: many a mile we measur'd Before we could arrive to this knowledge. Nea. You might [h]ave spar'd that labour, for at home here There's little else in practice: Ha? the Queen? Good friends, for half an hour remove your motion, To morrow willingly when we have more leasure We'll look on him again. Onos. Did I not rarely? Unc. Excellent well. Tut. He shall have six Plumbs for it. [Exeunt.

Qu. How much my Court is honour'd Princely Brother In your vouchsafing it your long'd-for presence Were tedious to repeat, since 'tis already (And heartily) acknowledg'd; may the gods That look into Kings actions, smile upon The league we have concluded; and their justice Find me out to revenge it, if I break One Article. Age. Great miracle of Queens, How happy I esteem myself in being Thought worthy to be numbred in the rank Of your confederates, my love and best service Shall teach the world hereafter: but this gift With which you have confirm'd it, is so far Beyond my hopes and means e'r to return, That of necessity I must dye oblig'd To your unanswer'd bounty. The. The sweet Lady In blushes gives your Highness thanks. Qu. Believe it On the Queens word, she is a worthy one, And I am so acquainted with her goodness, That but for this peace that hath chang'd my purpose, And to her more advancement, I should gladly Have call'd her Daughter. The. Though I am depriv'd of A blessing, 'tis not in the Fates to equal, To shew my self a Subject as a Son, Here I give up my claim, and willingly With mine own hand deliver you what once I lov'd above my self; and from this hour (For my affection yields now to my duty) Vow never to sollicite her. Cra. 'Tis well cover'd; Neanthes, and the rest. [Exeunt Cra. Nea. Sos. Era. Qu. Nay, for this night You must (for 'tis our Countrey fashion, Sir) Leave her to her Devotions, in the morning We'll bring you to the Temple. Leo. How in this Your Highness honours me? Mer. Sweet rest to all. Age. This kiss, and I obey you. Bel. Please it your Highness, This is the Gentleman. Qu. You are welcome home, Sir, (Now as I live, one of a promising presence) I have heard of you before, and you shall find I'll know you better: find out something that May do you good, and rest assur'd to have it. Were you at Sparta lately? Euph. Three daies since Madam, I came from thence. Qu. 'Tis very late, Good night my Lord, do you Sir follow me, I must talk further with you. Ag. All rest with you. [Exeunt.

Cra. She must pass through this Cloyster, suddainly And boldly seize upon her. Nea. Where's the Prince? Cra. He does expect us at the place I shew'd you.

I hear ones footing, peace, 'tis she; Mer. Now leave me, I know the way, though Vesta witness with me I never trode it with such fear: help, help. Cra. Stop her mouth close, out with the Light, I'll guide you.

Mer. To whom now shall I cry? What pow'r thus kneel to? And beg my ravisht honor back upon me? Deaf, deaf, you gods of goodness, deaf to me, Deaf Heaven to all my cries; deaf hope, deaf justice, I am abus'd, and you, that see all, saw it; Saw it, and smil'd upon the villain did it: Saw it, and gave him strength: why have I pray'd to ye, When all the worlds eyes have been sunk in slumbers? Why have I then powr'd out my tears? kneel'd to ye, And from the Altar of a pure heart sent ye Thoughts like your selves, white, innocent, vows purer And of a sweeter flame than all the earths odours? Why have I sung your praises, strew'd your Temples, And crown'd your Holy Priests with Virgin Roses? Is it we hold ye powerful, to destroy us? Believe, and honor ye, to see us ruin'd? These tears of anger thus I sprinkle toward ye, You that dare sleep secure whilst Virgins suffer, These stick like Comets, blaze eternally, Till, with the wonder, they have wak'd your justice, And forc't ye fear our curses, as we yours.

My shame still follows me, and still proclaims me; He turns away in scorn, I am contemned too, A more unmanly violence than the other; Bitten, and flung away? What e'r you are Sir, you that have abus'd me, and now most basely And sacrilegiously robb'd this fair Temple, I fling all these behind me, but look upon me, But one kind loving look, be what ye will, So from this hour you will be mine, my Husband; And you his hand in mischief, I speak to you too, Counsel him nobly now; you know the mischief, The most unrighteous act he has done, perswade him, Perswade him like a friend, knock at his Conscience Till fair Repentance follow: yet be worthy of me, And shew your self, if ever good thought guided ye; You have had your foul will; make it yet fair with marriage; Open your self and take me, wed me now: [Draws his Dagger. More fruits of villany? your Dagger? come Ye are merciful, I thank you for your medicine: Is that too worthy too?

Devil, thou with him, Thou penny Bawd to his Lust, will not that stir thee? Do you work by tokens now? Be sure I live not, For your own safeties knaves. I will sit patiently: But as ye are true villains, the Devils own servants, And those he loves and trusts, make it as bloody An Act, of such true horror, Heaven would shake at, 'Twill shew the braver: goodness hold my hope fast, And in thy mercies look upon my ruines, And then I am right: my eyes grow dead and heavy:

Wrong me no more as ye are men. The. She is fast. Cra. Away with her. [Exeunt.

Age. Now Gentlemen, the time's come now t' enjoy That fruitful happiness my heart has long'd for: This day be happy call'd, and when old Time Brings it about each year, crown'd with that sweetness It gives me now, see every man observe it, And laying all aside bears shew of business, Give this to joy and triumph: How fits my cloaths? 1 Gent. Handsome, and wondrous well, Sir. Ag. Do they shew richly? For to those curious eyes even beauty envies, I must not now appear poor, or low fashion'd; Methinks I am younger than I was, far younger; And such a promise in my bloud I feel now, That if there may be a perpetual youth Bestowed on man, I am that soul shall win it: Does my hair stand well, Lord how ill-favourdly You have drest me to day! how baldly! why this Cloak? 2 Gen. Why 'tis the richest, Sir. Age. And here ye have put me on A pair of Breeches look like a pair of Bagpipes. 1 Gen. Believe Sir, they shew bravely. Ag. Why these Stockins? 2 Gen. Your Leg appears— Ag. Peuh, I would have had 'em Peach-colour, All young, and new about me: and this Scarf here A goodly thing: you have trickt me like a Puppet. 1 Gen. I'll undertake to rig forth a whole Navy, And with less labor than one man in love. They are never pleas'd. 2 Gen. Methinks he looks well. 1 Gen. Well: As man can look, as handsome: now do I wonder He found not fault his Nose was put on ugly, Or his Eyes lookt too gray, and rail at us, They are the waywards things, these Lovers. 2 Gent. All will be right. When once it comes to th' push. 1 Gent. I would they were at it For our own quiet sake. Ag. Come, wait upon me, And bear your selves like mine, my friends, and nobly. [Ex.

Erat. This is her Brothers door. Cra. There lay her down then. Lay her along: she is fast still. [Era]. As forgetfulness. Cra. Be not you stirr'd now, but away to your Mother, Give all attendance, let no stain appear Of fear, or doubt in your face: carry your self confidently. The. But whither runs your drift now? Cra. When she wakes, Either what's done will shew a meer dream to her, And carry no more credit: or say she find it, Say she remember all the circumstances, Twenty to one the shapes in which they were acted, The horrors, and the still affrights we shew'd her, Rising in wilder figures to her memory Will run her mad, and no man guess the reason: If all these fail, and that she rise up perfect, And so collect her self, believe this, Sir, Not knowing who it was that did this to her, Nor having any power to ghess; the thing done too Being the utter undoing of her honor If it be known, and to the worlds eye publish'd, Especially at this time when Fortune courts her, She must and will conceal it; nay, forget it, The woman is no Lucrece; get you gone Sir, And as you would have more of this sport, fear not. The. I am confirm'd, farewel. Cra. Farewel, away Sir: Disperse your selves, and as you love his favour, And that that crowns it, Gold, no tongues amongst ye. You know your charge, this way goes no suspicion. [Ex.

Ag. You are stirring early, Sir. Leo. It was my duty To wait upon your Grace. Ag. How fares your Sister, My beauteous Mistriss, what is she ready yet? Leo. No doubt she'll lose no time Sir, young Maids in her way Tread upon thorns, and think an hour an age Till the Priest has done his part, that theirs may follow: I saw her not since yesterday i'th' evening: But Sir, I am sure she is not slack; believe me, Your grace will find a loving soul. Ag. A sweet one, And so much joy I carry in the thought of it, So great a happiness to know she is mine; Believe me noble Brother, that to express it Methinks a Tongue's a poor thing: can do nothing, Imagination less: who's that that lies there? Leo. Where Sir? Ag. Before the door, it looks like a woman. Leo. This way I came abroad, but then there was nothing, One of the Maids o'rwatch'd belike: Ag. It may be. Leo. But methinks this is no fit place to sleep in. 1 Gent. 'Tis sure a woman Sir, she has jewels on too: She fears no foul play sure. Leo. Bring a Torch hither, Yet ['tis] not perfect day: I should know those Garments. Ag. How sound she sleeps! Leo. I am sorry to see this. Ag. Do you know her? Leo. And you now I am sure Sir. Ag. My Mistriss, how comes this?

Leo. The Queen and her train? Qu. You know my pleasure. Euph. And will be most careful. Qu. Be not long absent, the suit you preferr'd Is granted. Nea. This fellow mounts apace, and will Towre o'r us like a Falcon. Qu. Good morrow to ye all, why stand ye wondring? Enter the house Sir, and bring out your Mistriss, You must observe our Ceremonies: what's the matter? What's that ye stand at? How Merione? Asleep i'th' street? belike some sudden Palsie As she stept out last night upon devotion, To take her farewel of her Virgin state, The air being sharp and piercing, struck her suddenly: See if she breath. Leo. A little. Qu. Wake her then, 'Tis sure a fit. Ag. She wakes her self, Give room to her. Qu. See how the spirits struggle to recover, And strongly reinforce their strength; for certain This was no natural sleep. The. I am of your mind, Madam. Qu. No Son, it cannot be. The. Pray Heaven no trick in't; Good Soul she little merits such a mischief. Qu. She is broad awake now, and her sence cleers up, 'Twas sure a fit; stand off. Mer. The Queen, my Love here, And all my noble friends? Why where am I? How am I tranc'd, and moap'd? I' th' street? Heaven bless me, Shame to my Sex; o'th' ground too? O I remember— Leo. How wild she looks? Ag. Oh my cold heart, how she trembles! Mer. Oh I remember, I remember. Qu. What's that? Mer. My shame, my shame, my shame: Oh I remember My never-dying shame. The. Here has been villanie. Qu. I fear so too. Mer. You are no Furies are ye? No horrid shapes sent to affright me? Ag. No sweet, We are your friends: look up, I am Agenor, O my Merione, that loves you dearly: And come to marry ye. Leo. Sister, what ail ye? Speak out your griefs, and boldly— Ag. Something sticks here Will choak ye else. Mer. I hope it will. Qu. Be free Lady, You have your loving friends about ye. A[g]. Dear Merione, By the unspotted love I ever bore ye, By thine own goodness— Mer. Oh 'tis gone, 'tis gone Sir, I am now I know not what: pray ye look not on me, No name is left me, nothing to inherit But that detested, base, and branded— Ag. Speak it, And how; diseases of most danger Their causes once discover'd are easily cur'd: My fair Merione. Mer. I thank your love Sir; When I was fair Merione, unspotted, Pure, and unblasted in the bud you honour'd, White as the heart of truth, then Prince Agenor, Even then I was not worthy of your favour; Wretch that I am, less worthy now of pitty: Let no good thing come near me, virtue flie me; You that have honest noble names despise me, For I am nothing now but a main pestilence Able to poison all. Send those unto me That have forgot their names, ruin'd their fortunes, Despis'd their honours; those that have been Virgins Ravish'd and wrong'd, and yet dare live to tell it. The. Now it appears too plain. Mer. Send those sad people That hate the light, and curse society; Whose thoughts are Graves, and from whose eyes continually Their melting souls drop out, send those to me; And when their sorrows are most excellent, So full that one grief more cannot be added, My Story like a torrent shall devour 'em. Hark, it must out; but pray stand close together, And let not all the world hear. Leo. Speak it boldly. Mer. And Royal Lady, think but charitably, Your Grace has known my breeding. Qu. Prethee speak it. Mer. Is there no stranger here? send off your servants, And yet it must be known: I shake. Ag. Sweet Mistriss. Mer. I am abus'd, basely abus'd; do you ghess yet? Come close, I'll tell ye plainer; I am whor'd, Ravish'd, and robb'd of Honour. Leo. Oh the Devil. Ag. What hellish Slave was this? The. A wretch, a wretch, A damned wretch: do you know the Villain, Lady? Mer. No. The. Not by ghess? Mer. Oh no. The. It must be known. Qu. Where was the place? Mer. I know not neither. Ag. O Heaven, Is this the happy time? my hope to this come? Leo. Neither the man nor circumstances? The. His tongue, Did you not hear his tongue, no voice? Mer. None, none Sir: All I know of him was his violence. Ag. How came ye hither, Sweet? Mer. I know not neither. The. A cunning piece of villany. Mer. All I remember Is only this: Going to Vestas Temple To give the goddess my last Virgin prayers, Near to that place I was suddainly surpriz'd, By five or six disguis'd, and from thence violently To my dishonour hal'd: that Act perform'd, Brought back, but how, or whether, till I wak'd here.— The. This is so monstrous, the gods cannot suffer it; I have not read in all the villanies Committed by the most obdurate Rascals, An act so truly impious. Leo. Would I knew him. The. He must be known, the Devil cannot hide him. Qu. If all the Art I have, or power can do it, He shall be found, and such a way of justice Inflicted on him: A Lady wrong'd in my Court, And this way rob'd, and ruin'd? The. Be contented Madam, If he be above ground I will have him. Ag. Fair virtuous Maid, take comfort yet and flourish, In my love flourish: the stain was forc'd upon ye None of your wills, nor yours; rise, and rise mine still, And rise the same white, sweet, fair soul, I lov'd ye, Take me the same. Mer. I kneel and thank ye, Sir, And I must say ye are truly honourable: And dare confess my Will, yet still a Virgin; But so unfit and weak a Cabinet To keep your love and virtue in am I now, That have been forc'd and broken, lost my lustre, I mean this body, so corrupt a Volume For you to study goodness in, and honor, I shall intreat your Grace, confer that happiness Upon a beauty sorrow never saw yet: And when this grief shall kill me, as it must do, Only remember yet ye had such a Mistriss; And if ye then dare shed a tear, yet honour me: Good Gentlemen, express your pities to me, In seeking out this villany; and my last suit Is to your Grace, that I may have your favour To live a poor recluse Nun with this Lady, From Court and company, till Heaven shall hear me, And send me comfort, or death end my misery. Qu. Take your own Will, my very heart bleeds for thee. Ag. Farwell Merione, since I have not thee, I'll wed thy goodness, and thy memory. Leo. And I her fair revenge. The. Away: let's follow it, For he is so rank i'th' wind we cannot miss him. [Exeunt.

Cra. Conon, you are welcome home, ye are wondrous welcome, Is this your first arrival? Co. Sir, but now I reacht the Town. Cra. Y'are once more welcome then. Co. I thank ye, noble Sir. Cra. Pray ye do me the honor To make my poor house first— Con. Pray Sir excuse me, I have not seen mine own yet; nor made happy These longing eyes with those I love there: what's this a Tavern? Cra. It seems so by the outside. Co. Step in here then, And since it offers it self so freely to us, A place made only for liberal entertainment, Let's seek no further, but make use of this, And after the Greek fashion, to our friends Crown a round cup or two.

Cra. Your pleasure, Sir. Drawers, who waits within? Draw. Anon, anon Sir. Vint. Look into the Lilly-pot: why Mark there; You are welcome Gentlemen; heartily welcome My noble friend. Cra. Let's have good Wine mine Host, And a fine private room. Vint. Will ye be there Sir? What is't you'll drink? I'll draw your Wine my self: Quissions ye knaves: why when?

Draw. Anon, anon Sir. Vint. Chios, or Lebos, Greek? Cra. Your best and neatest. Vint. I'll draw ye that shall dance. Cra. Away, be quick then. [Exit Vintner. Con. How does your Brother, Sir, my noble friend The good Euphanes? in all my course of travel I met not with a Gentleman so furnish'd In gentleness and courtesie; believe Sir, So many friendly Offices I receiv'd from him, So great, and timely, and enjoy'd his company In such an open and a liberal sweetness, That when I dare forget him— Cra. He's in good health, Sir, But you will find him a much alter'd man, Grown a great Courtier, Sir. Co. He's worthy of it. Cra. A man drawn up, that leaves no print behind him Of what he was: those goodnesses you speak of That have been in him, those that you call freedoms, Societies, and sweetness, look for now, Sir, You'll find no shadows of them left, no sound, The very Air he has liv'd in alter'd: now behold him, And you shall see a thing walk by, look big upon ye, And cry for place; I am the Queens, give room there: If you bow low, may be he'll touch the Bonnet, Or fling a forced smile at ye for a favour. Co. He is your brother, Sir. Cra. These forms put off, Which travel, and Court Holy-water sprinkle on him, I dare accept, and know him: you'll think it strange, Sir, That even to me, to me his natural Brother, And one by birth he owes a little honor too—

(But that's all one) come, give me some Wine, mine Host, Here's to your fair return. Con. I wonder at it, But sure he has found a nature not worth owning In this way; else I know he is tender carried. I thank ye, Sir: and now durst I presume For all you tell me of these alterations, And stops in his sweet nature, which till I find so, I have known him now so long, and look'd so through him, You must give me leave to be a little faithless: I say for all these, if you please to venture I'll lay the Wine we drink, let me send for him (Even I that am the poorest of his fellowship) But by a Boy oth' house too, let him have business, Let him attend the Queen, nay let his Mistriss Hold him betwixt her arms, he shall come to me, And shall drink with me too, love me, and heartily, Like a true honest man bid me welcome home. I am confident. Cra. You will loose. Con. You'l stand to th' wager? Cra. With all my heart. Con. Go Boy, and tell Euphanes. Boy. He's now gone up the street Sir, With a great train of Gallants. Cra. What think you now Sir? Con. Go, and overtake him, Commend my love unto him: my name is Conon, Tell him I am new arriv'd, and where I am, And would request to see him presently: Ye see I use old dudgen phrase to draw him. Cra. I'll hang and quarter when you draw him hither. Con. Away Boy. Boy. I am gone Sir. [Exit. Con. Here's to you now, And you shall find his travel has not stopt him As you suppose, nor alter'd any freedome, But made him far more clear and excellent; It draws the grossness off the understanding, And renders active and industrious spirits: He that knows most mens manners, must of necessity Best know his own, and mend those by example: 'Tis a dull thing to travell like a Mill-horse, Still in the place he was born in, lam'd and blinded; Living at home is like it: pure and strong spirits That like the fire still covet to fly upward, And to give fire as well as take it; cas'd up, and mewd here I mean at home, like lusty metled Horses, Only ty'd up in Stables, to please their Masters, Beat out their fiery lives in their own Litters, Why do not you travel Sir? Cra. I have no belief in't. I see so many strange things, half unhatcht, to Return, those that went out men, and good men, They look like potch'd Eggs with the souls suckt out Empty and full of wind: all their affections Are bak'd in Rye crust, to hold carriage From this good Town to th' other: and when they are open'd, They are so ill cooked and mouldy— Con. Ye are pleasant. Cra. I'll shew ye a pack of these: I have 'em for ye, That have been long in travel too. Con. Please you Sir. Cra. You know the Merchants walk, Boy? 2 Boy. Very well. Cra. And you remember those Gentlemen were here The other day with me? 2 Boy. Yes. Cra. Then go thither, For there I am sure they are, pray 'em come hither, (And use my name) I would be glad to see 'em.

1 Boy. Your Brother's coming in Sir. Vint. Odds my passion, Out with the Plate ye knaves: bring the new Quishions, And wash those Glasses I set by for high days, Perfume the rooms along, why Sirrah. 1 Boy. Here Sir. Vint. Bid my Wife make her self ready handsomly, And put on her best Apron: it may be The noble Gentleman will look upon her.

Euph. Where is he Boy? Vint. Your worship's heartily welcome, It joyes my very heart to see ye here Sir. The Gentleman that sent for your honor— Euph. O good mine Host. Vint. To my poor homely house, and't like your honor. Euph. I thank thine honor good mine Host, where is he? Con. What think ye now? my best Euphanes. Euph. Conon, welcome my friend, my noble friend how is it? Are you in safety come, in health? Con. All health, all safety, Riches, and all that makes content and happiness Now I am here I have: how have you far'd Sir? Euph. Well, I thank Heaven, and never nearer friend To catch at great occasion. Con. Indeed I joy in't. Euph. Nor am I for my self born in these fortunes. In truth I love my friends. Con. You were noble ever. Cra. I thought you had not known me. [Euph. salutes Cra. Euph. Yes, ye are my Brother, My elder Brother too, would your affections Were able but to ask that love I owe to ye, And as I give, preserve it: here friend Conon, To your fair welcome home. Con. Dear Sir, I thank ye, Fill it to th' brim, Boy: Crates. Cra. I'll pledge you, But for that glorious Comet lately fired. Con. Fie, fie Sir, fie. Euph. Nay, let him take his freedomes, He stirs not me I vow to ye; much less stains me. Cra. Sir, I cannot talk with that neat travelling tongue. Con. As I live, he has the worst belief in men abroad.

I am glad I am come home. 2. Boy. Here are the Gentlemen. Cra. O let 'em enter: now you that trust in travel, And make sharp Beards, and little Breeches Deities, You that inhaunce the daily price of Tooth-picks, And hold there is no homebred happiness, Behold a model of your minds and actions. Euph. Though this be envious, yet done i'th' way of mirth, I am content to thank ye for't. Con. 'Tis well yet. Cra. Let the Maske enter.

Onos. A pretty Taverne 'faith, of a fine structure. Unc. Bear your self like a Gentleman, here's six pence, And be sure you break no Glasses. Tut. Hark ye Pupill, Go as I taught you, hang more upon your hams, And put your knees out bent: there, yet a little: Now I beseech ye, be not so improvident To forget your travelling pace, 'tis a main posture, And to all unayr'd Gentlemen will betray you: Play with your Pisa Beard: why, where's your brush Pupill? He must have a Brush Sir. Unc. More charge yet? Tut. Here, take mine, These elements of travel he must not want Sir. Unc. Ma'foy, he has had some nineteen pence in elements, What would you more? Tut. Durus mehercle pater. Con. What Monsieur Onos, the very pump of travell? Sir, as I live you have done me the greatest kindnes, O my fair Sir, Lampree, the careful Unkle To this young hopeful issue; Monsieur Tutor too, The father to his mind; [C]ome, come, let's hug Boyes, Why what a bunch of travel do I embrace now, Methinks I put a Girdle about Europe; How has the boy profited? Unc. He has enough Sir, If his too fiery mettle do not mar it. Con. Is he not thrifty yet? Tut. That's all his fault, Too bounteous minded being under age too, A great consumer of his stock in Pippins, Had ever a hot stomach. Con. Come hither Onos, Will you love me for this fine Apple? Onos. We. Con. And will ye be rul'd by me sometimes? Onos. 'Faith I will. Con. That's a good boy. Unc. Pray give not the child so much fruit, He's of a raw Complexion. Euph. You Monsieur hard eg[g]e, Do you remember me? Do you remember When you and your Consort travell'd through Hungary? Con. He's in that circuit still. Euph. Do you remember The cantell of immortal Cheese ye carried with ye, The half cold [C]abbedge in a leather Sachell, And those invincible Eggs that would lye in your bowells A fortnight together, and then turn to bedstaves; Your sowre milk that would choak an Irish man, And bread was bak'd in Cæsars time for the Army? Con. Providence, providence. Tut. The soul of travel. Euph. Can the boy speak yet? Tut. Yes, and as fine a Gentleman, I thank my able knowledge, he has arriv'd at, Only a little sparing of his Language, Which every man of observation— Unc. And of as many tongues. Tut. Pray be content Sir, You know you are for the bodily part, the Purse, I for the magazin, the mind. Euph. Come hither springall. On. That in the Almain Tongue signifies a Gentleman. Euph. What think you of the forms of Italy or Spain? Onos. I love mine own Countrey Pippin. Tut. Nobly answer'd, Born for his Countrey first. Euph. A great Philosopher: What Horses do you prefer? Onos. The white horse Sir, There where I lye; honest and a just beast. Tut. O caput lepidum: a Child to say this, Are these figures for the mouths of Infants? Con. Onos, what wenches? Come, tell me true. On. I cannot speak without book. Con. When shall we have one, ha? On. Steal me from mine Unckle, For look you, I am broke out horribly For want of fleshly Physick: they say I am too young, And that 'twill spoyle my growth but could you help me? Con. Meet me to morrow man, no more. Euph. You think now Ye have open'd such a shame to me of travell, By shewing these thin Cubs: ye have honour'd us Against your will, proclaim'd us excellent: Three Frails of Sprats carried from Mart, to Mart, Are as much Meat as these, to more use travell'd; A bunch of bloted fools: me thinks your judgment Should look abroad sometimes without your envy. Cra. Such are most of you: so I take my leave, And when you find your Womens favor fail, Tis ten to one you'l know your self, and seek me Upon a better Muster of your manners. Con. This is not handsome Sir. Euph. Pray take your pleasure, You wound the wind as much— Cra. Come you with me, I have business for you presently: there's for your Wine, I must confess I lost it. On. Shall I steal to ye And shall we see the Wench? Con. A dainty one. On. And have a dish of Pippins? Con. What a peck man. Tut. Will you wait Sir. Con. Pray let's meet oftner Gentlemen, I would not lose ye. Tut. O sweet Sir. Con. Do you think I would, Such noted men as you? Onos, Unc. Tut. We are your Servants. [Exeunt. Euph. That thing they would keep in everlasting nonage, My brother for his own ends has thrust on Upon my Mistriss, 'tis true, he shall be rich If ever he can get that Rogue his Unkle To let him be of years to come to inherit it, Now what the main drift is— Con. Say ye so? no more words, I'll keep him company till he be of years, Though it be a hundred years, but I'll discover it; And ten to one I'll cross it too. Euph. You are honest, And I shall study still your love: farewell Sir, For these few hours I must desire your pardon, I have business of importance: once a day At least I hope you'll see me: I must see you else: So, once more ye are welcome. Con. All my thanks Sir, And when I leave to love you, life go from me. [Exeu[n]t.

Cra. Why Sir, the Kingdomes his, and no man now Can come to Corinth or from Corinth go Without his Licence; he puts up the tithes Of every office through Achaia; From Courtier to the Carter hold of him: Our Lands, our Liberties, nay very Lives Are shut up in his Closet, and let loose But at his pleasure; Books, and all discourse Have now no Patron, nor direction, But glorified Euphanes: our Cups are guilty That quench our thirsts, if not unto his health; Oh, I could eat my heart, and fling away My very Soul for anguish: gods, nor men Should tollerate such disproportion. The. And yet is he belov'd: whether't be virtue, Or seeming virtue which he makes the cloak To his ambition. Cra. Be it which it will: Your Highness is too tame, your eyes too film'd To see this, and sit still: the Lion should not Tremble to hear the bellowing of the Bull; Nature excuse me, though he be my Brother, You are my Countries Father, therefore mine: One parallel line of Love I bend on him, All lines of love and duty meet in you As in their Center: therefore hear, and weigh What I shall speak: You know the Queen your Mother Did, from a private state your Father raise, So all your Royalty you hold from her; She is older than she was, therefore more doating, And what know we but blindness of her love (That hath from underneath the foot of fortune Set even Euphanes foot, on fortunes head) Will take him by the hand, and cry, Leap now Into my bed; 'tis but a trick of age; Nothing impossible. The. What do you infer on this? Cra. Your pardon Sir: With reverence to the Queen; yet why should I Fear to speak plain what pointeth to your good? A good old Widow is a hungry thing, (I speak of other Widows, not of Queens.) The. Speak to thy purpose. Cra. I approach it: Sir, Should young Euphanes claspe the Kingdome thus, And please the good old Lady some one night; What might not she be wrought to put on you, Quite to supplant your birth? neither is she Past children as I take it. The. Crates, Thou shak'st me; Thou, that dost hate thy Brother for my love, In my love find one; henceforth be my brother: This Gyant I will fell beneath the earth; I will shine out, and melt his artful wings: Euphanes, from my mothers sea of favors Spreads like a River, and runs calmly on, Secure yet from my stormes; like a young pine He grows up planted under a fair Oake, Whose strong large branches yet do's shelter him, And every Traveller admires his beauty; But like a wind, I'l work into his crancks, Trouble his stream, and drown all Vessels that Ride on his Greatness: under my Mothers arms, Like to a stealing tempest will I search, And rend his root from her protection. Cra. I, now Theanor speaks like Prince Theanor. The. But how shall we provoke him to our snares? He has a temper malice cannot move To exceed the bounds of judgement; he is so wise, That we can pick no cause to affront him. Cra. No? What better than his crossing your intent? The suit I had to ye? Conons forfeit state (Before he travel'd) for a Riot he Hath from your Mother got restored to him: The. Durst he? what is this Conon? Cra. One that hath, As people say, in foreign Countries pleasur'd him.

But now no more; They have brought the Travellors I told you of, That's the sweet youth, that is my Brothers Rivall, That curles his head, for he has little hair, And paints his vizor, for it is no face, That so desires to follow you, my Lord: Shew 'em some countenance, and it will beget Our sport at least. The. What villanous Crab-tree legs he makes! His shins are full of true-love knots. Cra. His legs were ever villanous, since I knew him. Era. Faith his Uncles shanks are somewhat the better. Nea. But is't possible he should believe he is not of age? why He is 50, man, in's Jubile I warrant: s'light, he Looks older then a groat, the very stamp on's face is Worne out with handling. Sos. Why I tell you all men believe it when they hear him speak, He utters such single matter in so infantly a voice.

Onos. Peace Uncle, for though you speak a little better than I Nea. 'Tis a very little, in truth. Onos. Yet we must both give place, as they say to the best Speaker, The Tutor. Tut. Yet since it hath pleased your radience to decline so low, as on us, Poor and unworthy dunghils— Nea. What a stinking knaves this!

Sos. Or a treatise of famine divided into three branches. Era. The Prince speaks. The. I thank ye for your loves; but as I told you, I have so little means, to do for those Few followers I have already, that I would have none shiprack themselves, and fortune, Upon my barren shelf: Sue to Euphanes. For he is Prince, and Queen, I would have no man Curse me in his old age. Cra. Alass Sir, they desire to follow you But a far off, the farther off the better.

Gent. Make way there for my Lord Euphanes. Cra. Look Sir, Jove appears, The Peacock of our State, that spreads a train Brighter than Iris blushes after rain. Euph. You need not thank me Conon, in your love You Antidated what I can do for you, And I, in gratitude, was bound to this, And am to much more: and what ere he be Can with unthankfulness assoile me, let him Dig out mine eyes, and sing my name in verse, In Ballad verse, at every drinking house, And no man be so charitable to lend me A Dogg to guide my steps. Nea. Haile to Euphanes. Sos. Mighty Euphanes. Era. The great Prince Euphanes. Tut. Key of the Court, and Jewell of the Queen. Unc. Sol in our Firmament. Onos. Pearl in the States eye. Nea. Being a black man. Era. Mistress of the Land. Nea. Our humble, humble poor Petitions are, That we may hold our places. All. May we? Euph. Yes; be you malicious knaves still; and you fools. Con. This is the Princes, and your brothers spight. Euph. I know't, but will not know it. Con. Yonder they are. Who's fine child's this? Unc. Sir. Ones. Unckle le'be, Let him alone, he is a mighty Prince. Euph. I ask your Highness pardon: I protest By Jupiter I saw you not. The. Humh, it may be so, You have rais'd such mountaines 'twixt your eyes and me, That I am hidden quite: what do ye mean Sir? You much forget your self. Euph. I should much more, Not to remember my due duty to your Grace; I know not wherein I have so transgress'd My service to your Highness, to deserve This rigour and contempt, not from you only But from your followers, with the best of whom I was an equal in my lowest ebbe: Beseech you Sir, respect me as a Gentleman, I will be never more in heart to you: Five fair Descents I can derive my self, From Fathers worthy both in Arts and Armes. I know your goodness companies your greatness But that you are perverted: Royal Sir, I am your humblest subject, use your pleasure, But do not give protection to the wrongs Of these subordinate Slaves, whom I could crush By that great destined favor, which my Mistris And your majestick Mother deignes to me, But in respect of you: I know lean envy Waites ever on the steps of virtue advanc'd: But why your Mothers grace gets me disgrace, Or renders me a slave to bear these wrongs I do not know. Oh Mediocrity, Thou prizeless jewel, only mean men have But cannot value; like the precious Jem, Found in the Mukhill by the ignorant Cock. The. Your creamy words, but cozen: how durst you Intercept me so lately to my Mother? And what I meant your Brother, you obtain'd Unto the forfeitoe again. Cra. Your answer to that my Lord, my Brother. Euph. May I perish If ere I heard you intended such a suit, Though 'twould have stuck an ignominious brand Upon your Highness, to have given your servant A Gentlemans whole state of worth and quality, Confiscate only for a youthful brawle. The. Your rudiments are too sawcy: teach your Page. Con. I, so are all things but your flatterers. Onos. Hold you your prating. Con. You know where you are, you fleeten face. Euph. Yet Sir, to appease and satisfie your anger. Take what you please from me, and give it him In lieu of this: you shall not take it neither, I freely will impart it, half my state, Which Brother if you please— Cra. Ile starve in Chains first, Eat my own armes. Euph. Oh that you saw your self: You ne'r made me such offer in my poorness, And 'cause (to do you ease) I sought not to you. You thus maligne me; yet your nature must not Corrupt mine, nor your rude examples lead me: If mine can mend you, I shall joy; you know I fear you not: you have seen me proved a man In every way of fortune, 'tis my comfort I know no more such Brothers in the World As Crates is. Con. Nor I such as Euphanes: The temper of an Angel reigns in thee. Euph. Your Royal Mother Sir, (I had forgot) Entreats your presence. The. You have done her errand, I may do yours. [Exit. Euph. Let it be truth my Lord. Con. Crates, Ile question you for this. Cra. Pish, your worst. [Exit. Con. Away you hounds after your scent. Onus. Come, we'll scorn to walk to'm: now they are gone, We'l away too. [Exeunt. Con. Why bear you this my Lord? Euph. To shew the passive fortitude the best; Vertue's a solid Rock, whereat being aym'd The keenest darts of envy, yet unhurt Her Marble Heroes stand, built of such Bases, Whilst they recoyle, and wound the Shooters faces.

Con. My Lord, the Queen. Quee. Gentle Euphanes, how, How do'st thou honest Lord? oh how I joy To see what I have made, like a choyce Workman, That having fram'd a Master-piece, doth reap An universal commendation. Princes are Gods in this. I'll build thee yet (The good foundation so pleases me) A story or two higher; let dogs bark, They are fools that hold them dignified by blood, They should be only made great that are good. Euph. Oraculous Madam. Quee. Sirrah, I was thinking If I should marry thee, what merry tales Our neighbour Islands would make of us; But let that pass, you have a Mistriss That would forbid our Banes: troth I have wish'd A thousand times that I had been a man, Than I might sit a day with thee alone, And talk, But as I am I must not; there's no skill In being good, but in not being thought ill. Sirrah, who's that? Euph. So't please your Majesty Conon, the friend I su'd for. Quee. 'Tis dispatch'd. Con. Gracious Madam. I owe the gods and you my life. Quee. I thank you, I thank you heartily; and I do think you A very honest man, he says you are: But now I'll chide thee; what's the cause my Son, For my eye's every where, and I have heard, So insolently do's thee Contumelies Past sufferance (I am told) yet you complain not, As if my justice were so partial As not to right the meanest: credit me, I'll call him to a strict account, and fright, By his example, all that dare curb me In any thing that's just: I sent you for him. Euph. Humbly he did return, he would wait on you: But let me implore your Majesty, not to give His Highness any check, for worthless me; They are Court canckers, and not Counsellors That thus inform you: they do but hate the Prince, And would subvert me: I should curse my fortune Even at the highest, to be made the ginne To unscrew a Mothers love unto her Son: Better had my pale flame in humble shades Been spent unseen, than to be raised thus high, Now to be thought a meteor to the State, Portending ruine and contagion: Beseech you then rest satisfi'd, the Prince Is a most noble natur'd Gentleman, And never did to me but what I took As favors from him, my blown billowes must not Strive 'gainst my shore, that should confine me, nor Justle with Rocks to break themselves to pieces. Quee. Well, thou'rt the composition of a god: My Lion, Lamb, my Eaglet, and my Dove, Whose soul runs clearer then Dianas Fount, Nature pick'd several flowers from her choyce banks And bound them up in thee, sending thee forth A Posie for the bosome of a Queen. Lady. The Prince attends you. Quee. Farewell my good Lord. My honest man; stay, hast no other suit? I prethee tell me; Sirrah, thine eye speaks As if thou hadst: out with it modest fool. Euph. With favor Madam, I would crave your leave To Marry, where I am bound in gratitude, The immediate means she was to all my Being: Nor do I think your wisdom sacred Queen Fetters in favors, taking from me so The liberty that meanest men enjoy. Quee. To marry? you are a fool: thou'st anger'd me: Leave me, I'll think on't: [Exit Euph. and Conon. Only to try thee this, for though I love thee,

I can subdue my self: but she that can Enjoy thee, doth enjoy more than a man. Nay rise without a blessing, or kneel still: What's Sir the reason you oppose me thus, And seek to darken what I would have shine? Eclipse a fire much brighter than thy self, Making your Mother not a competent Judge Of her own actions? The. Gracious Madam, I I have done no more than what in royalty (And to preserve your fame) was fit to do: Heard you the peoples talk of you, and him You favor so, his greatness, and your love, The pitty given to me, you would excuse me, They prate as if he did dishonor you: And what know I, but his own lavish tongue Has uttered some such speeches; he is call'd The King of Corinth. Quee. They are traitors all: I wear a Christal casement 'fore my heart, Through which each honest eye may look in to't: Let it be prospect unto all the world, I care not this. The. This must not be my way; Your pardon gracious Madam: these incitements Made me not shew so clear a countenance Upon the Lord Euphanes as I would: Which since your Majesty affects so grievously I'll clear the black cloud of it, and henceforth Vow on this knee all love and grace to him. Quee. Rise with my blessing, and to prove this true, Bear him from me this Cabinet of Jewels In your own person, tell him, for his marrying He may dispose him how, and when he please. [Exit Quee. The. I shall discharge my duty and your will. Crates?

Cra. I have heard all my Lord, how luckely Fate pops her very spindle in our hands: This Marriage with Beliza you shall cross, Then have I one attempt for Lamprias more Upon this Phaeton: where's Merione's Ring, That in the Rape you took from her? The. 'Tis here. Cra. In and affect our purpose; you my Lord Shall disobey your Mothers charge, and send This Cabinet by some servant of her own, That what succeeds may have no reference Unto your Highness. The. On, my engine on. Cra. Now, if we be not struck by Heavens own hand, We'l ruine him, and on his ruines stand. [Exeunt.

Weep no more, nor sigh nor groan Sorrow calls no time that's gone Violets pluck'd, the sweetest raine Makes not fresh nor grow again; Trim thy locks, look cheerefully Fates hidd' ends, eyes cannot see. Joyes as winged dreams fly fast Why should sadness longer last. Grief is but a wound to woe Gent'lest fair, mourne, mourne no moe. Ag. These heavy Ayres feed sorrow in her Lady, And nourish it too strongly; like a Mother That spoiles her Child with giving on't the will.

Court Ladies laugh, and wonder. Here is one That weeps because her Maiden head is gone Whilst you do never frett, nor chafe, nor cry But when too long it keeps you company, Too well you know, Maids are like Towns on fire Wasting themselves, if no man quench desire. Weep then no more fool: a new Maidenhead Thou suffer'st loss of, in each chast tear shed. Bel. Some lighter note. Leo. How like a hill of Snow she sits, and melts Before the unchast fire of others lust! What heart can see her passion and not break? Ag. Take comfort gentle Madam; you know well Even actual sins committed without will, Are neither sins nor shame, much more compell'd; Your honor's no whit less, your Chastity No whit impair'd, for fair Merione Is more a Virgin yet then all her Sex: Alass, 'tis done; why burne these Tapers now? Wicked and frantick Creatures joy in night. Leo. Imagine faire Merione had dream'd She had been ravish'd, would she sit thus then Excruciate? Mer. Oh. Bel. Fye, fye, how fond is this! What reason for this surfeit of remorse? How many that have done ill and proceed, Women that take degrees in wantonness, Commence, and rise in rudiments of Lust, That feel no scruple of this tenderness? Mer. Pish. Bel. Nor are you matchless in mishap, even I Do bear an equal part of misery; That love, belov'd, a man the Crown of men, Whom I have friended, and how raised 'tis better That all do know and speak it than my self: When he sail'd low I might have made him mine, Now at his full gale, it is questionable If ever I o're-take him. Ag. Wherefore sits My Phebe shawdowed in a sable cloud? Those pearly drops which thou let's fall like beades, Numbring on them thy vestal Orisons Alas are spent in vain: I love thee still, In mids't of all these showres thou sweetlier sent'st, Like a green Meadow on an April day, In which the Sun and west-wind play together, Striving to catch and drink the balmy drops.

Ser. The Lord E[u]phanes Madam. [Exit Mer. Ag. Poor Merione, She loathes the light, and men. [Exit. Euph. The virtuous gods preserve my Mistriss. Bel. O my most honor'd Lord, those times are chang'd. Euph. Let times and men change, could Heaven change, Euphanes Should never change, to be devoted ever To fair Beliza, should my load of honors, Or any Grace which you were Author of Detract mine honor, and diminish Grace? The gods forbid: you here behold your servant, Your Creature, gentle Lady, whose sound sleeps You purchas'd for him: whose food you paid for, Whose garments were your charge, whose first preferment You founded: then, what since the gracious Queen Hath, or can rear, is upon your free Land, And you are Mistris of. Bel. Mock me not gentle Lord, You shine now in too high a sphear for me, We are Plannets now disjoyn'd for ever: yet Poor superstitious innocent that I am, Give leave that I may lift my hands, and love Not in Idolatry, but perfect zeal: For credit me, I repent nothing I have done, But were it to begin would do the same. Euph. There are two Seas in Corinth, and two Queens, And but there, not two such in the spacious Universe; I came to tender you the man you have made, And like a thankful stream to retribute All you my Ocean have enrich'd me with. You told [me] once you'ld marry me. Bel. Another mock? you were wont to play fair play, You scorn poor helps; he that is sure to win, May slight mean hearts, whose hand commands the Queen. Euph. Let me be held the Knave through all the Stock When I do slight my Mistris; you know well The gracious inclination of the Queen, Who sent me leave this morning to proceed To marry as I saw convenience, And a great gift of Jewels: Three days hence The general sacrifice is done to Vesta, And can you by then be accommodated Your servant shall wait on you to the Temple. Bel. Till now I never felt a real joy indeed. Euph. Here then I seal my duty, here my love, Till which vouchsafe to wear this Ring, dear Mistris; 'Twas the Queens Token, and shall celebrate Our Nuptialls. Bel. Honour still raise, and preserve My honor'd Lord, as he preserves all honor. [Exit Euph.

Ag. Why shift you places thus Merione, And will not lend a word? Could'st thou so soon Leave sorrow as the place, how blest were I, But 'twill not be; grief is an impudent guest, A follower every where, a hanger on, That words nor blows can drive away. Leo. Dear Sister. Bel. Who can be sad? out with these Tragick Lights, And let day repossess her natural howres: Tear down these blacks, cast ope' the Casements wide, That we may jocondly behold the Sun. I did partake with sad Merione In all her mourning: let her now rejoyce With glad Beliza, for Euphanes is As full of love, full of humility As when he wanted. Mer. Oh—that. Leo. Help, she faints: Her grief has broke her heart. Mer. No—that—that. Ag. Mistris, what point you at? Her lamps are out, yet still she extends her hand As if she saw something antipathous Unto her virtuous life. Leo. Still, still she points, And her lips move, but no articulate sound Breathes from 'em: Sister, speak, what moves you thus? Bel. Her spirits return. Mer. Oh, hide that fatal Ring, Where had it you Beliza? Bel. What hid fate Depends on it? Euphanes gave it me As holy pledge of future Mariage. Mer. Then is Euphanes the foul Ravisher? Let me speak this and dye. That dismal night Which seal'd my shame upon me, was that Ring, The partner of my rob'd virginity. Leo. Euphanes? Ag. Strange. Bel. Impossible. Mer. Impossible to have redress on him, Chief servant to the Queen—ha! I have read Somewhere I am sure, of such an injury Done to a Lady: and how she durst dye. [Exit. Ag. Oh follow her Beliza. Bel. To assure her, The unlikelihood of this. [Exit. Ag. Love hides all sins. What's to be done Leonidas? Leo. Why this: Amazement takes up all my faculties; The plagues of gods and men will muster all To avenge this tyranny. Oh frontless man, To dare do ill, and hope to bear it thus: First let's implore, then cure. Ag. Who, who can trust The gentle looks and words of two-fac'd man? Like Corinths double torrent, you and I Will rush upon the Land; nor shall the Queen Defend this Villain in his villany: Lusts violent flames can never be withstood Nor quench'd, but with as violent streams of blood. [Exeunt.

Ono. Thinks he to carry her and live. Cra. It seems so, And she will carry him the story says. On. Well, hum— Have I for this thou fair but falsest fair Stretch'd this same simple leg over the Sea? What though my bashfulness, and tender years, Durst ne're reveal my affection to thy teeth? Deep love ne're tatles, and (say they) loves bit The deeper dip'd, the sweeter still is it. Tut. Oh, see the power of Love: he speaks in ryme. Cra. Oh, love would make a dog howle in ryme: Of all the Lovers yet I have heard or read This is the strangest: but his Guardian, And you his Tutor should inform him better, Thinks he, that love is answer'd by instinct? Tut. He should make means, For certain Sir, his bashfulness undo's him, For from his Cradle h'had a shameful face. Thus walks he night and day, eats not a bit, Nor sleeps one jot, but's grown so humerous; Drinks Ale, and takes Tobacco as you see; Wear's a Steeletto at his Codpeece close, Stabs on the least occasion: stroaks his beard, Which now he puts i'th posture of a T. The Roman T. your T. beard is the fashion, And twifold doth express the enamour'd Courtier, As full as your fork-carving Travellor. On. Oh, black clouds of discontent invellop me, Garters fly off: go Hatband, bind the browes Of some dull Citizen that fears to ake: And Leg appear now in simplicity Without the tra[pp]ings of a Courtier: Burst B[u]ttons, burst, your Bachelor is worm'd. Cra. A worm-eaten Batchelor th'rt indeed. On. And Devil melancholly possesses me now. Unc. Cross him not in this fit I advise you Sir. On. Dye crimson Rose, that didst adorn these cheeks, For ytch of love is now broke forth on me. Unc. Poor Boy, 'tis true: his wrists and hands are scabby. On. Burn eyes out in your sockets, sink and stink: Teeth I will pick ye to the very bones, Hang hair like Hemp, or like the Isling Curs, For never Powder, nor the Crisping-iron Shall touch these dangling locks—oh—Ruby lips, Love hath to you been like Wine-vinegar, Now you look wan and pale, lips, ghosts ye are, And my disgrace sharper than Mustard-seed. Cra. How like a Chaundler he do's vent his passions, Risum teneatis? On. Well sung the Poet, Love is a golden [b]ubo, full of Dreams: That ripen'd breaks, and fills us with extreams. Tut. A gold buble, pupill, Oh gross solæcisme To chaster eares that understand the Latine. On. I will not be corrected now: I am in love, revenge is now the Cud That I do chaw: I'll challenge him. Cra. I marry Sir. Unc. Your honor bids you Nephew, on, and prosper. On. But none will bear it from me, times are dangerous. Cra. Carry it your self man. On. Tutor, your counsel: [I'll] do nothing Sir Without him. Unc. This may rid thee, (valiant Cuz.) Whom I have kept this forty year my Ward: Fain would I have his state, and now of late He did inquire at Ephesus for his age, But the Church Book being burnt with Dian's Temple He lost his ayme: I have try'd to famish him, Marry he'll live o'th stones: and then for Poysons, He is an Antidote 'gainst all of 'em; He sprung from Mithridates; he is so dry and hot, He will eat Spiders faster than a Monkey: His Maw (unhurt) keeps Quicksilver like a bladder, The largest dose of Camphire, Opium, Harmes not his Brain; I think his Skul's as empty As a suckt Egg; Vitriol and Oyle of Tartar He will eat tosts of: Henbane I am sure And Hemlock I have made his Pot-herbs often. Cra. If he refuse you, yours is then the honor: If he accept, he being so great, you may Crave both to choose the Weapon, time, and place, Which may be ten years hence, and Calicut, Or underneath the line to avoid advantage. On. I am resolved. Tut. By your favor Pupill, Whence shall this challenge rise? for you must ground it On some such fundamental base, or matter As now the Gentry set their lives upon. Did you ere cheat him at some Ordinary, And durst he say so, and be angry? if thus, Then you must challenge him: hath he call'd your whore, Whore; though she be (beside yours) twenty mens? Your honor, reputation is touched then, And you must challenge him: Has he deny'd On thirty damme's to accommodate money, Though he have broke threescore before to you? Here you must challenge him: Durst he ever shun To drink two pots of Ale wi'ye? or to wench Though weighty business otherwise importun'd? He is a proud Lord, And you may challenge him: Has he familiarly Dislik'd your yellow Starch, or said your Dublet Was not exactly frenchifi'd? or that, that report In fair terms was untrue? or drawn your Sword, Cry'd 'twas ill mounted? Has he given the lye In circle, or oblique, or semi-circle, Or direct parrallel? you must challenge him. On. He never gave my direct apparrel the lye in's life. Tut. But for the crown of all, Has he refus'd To pledge your Mistris health though he were sick?

And crav'd your pardon? you must challenge him, There's no avoiding: one or both must drop. On. Exquisite Tutor. Nean. Crates, I have sought you long, what make you here Fooling with these three farthings, while the Town Is all in uproar, and the Prince our Master (Seis'd by Leonidas, and Agenor) carried And Prisoner kept i'the Castle, flanckes The west part of the City, where they vow To hold him, till your Brother, Lord Euphanes Be rendr'd to 'em, with his life to satisfie The Rape, by him suspected to Merione? The Queen refuses to deliver him, Pawning her knowledge for his innocency, And dares 'em do their worst on Prince Theanor, The whole State's in combustion. Cra. Fatall Ring. Unc. What will become of us? Nea. And she hath given Commission to Euphanes And Conon (who have leavied men already) With violence to surprize the Towre, and take 'em. What will you do? Cra. Along wi'ye, and prevent A farther mischief: Gentlemen, our intents We must defer: you are the Princes followers. Nea. Will ye walk with us? Unc. You shall pardon us. Tut. We are his followers afar off you know. And are contented to continue so.

Onos. Sir Boy. Page. Sir Fool? a Challenge to my Lord? How dar'st thou, or thy ambs-ace here think of him, Ye Crow-pick'd heads, which your thin shoulders bear As does the Poles on Corinth Bridge the Traitors: Why you three Nine-pins you talk of my Lord, And challenges? you shall not need: come draw, His Page is able to swindge three such whelpes: Uncle, why stand ye off: long-man advance. Onos. S'light, what have we done Tutor? Tut. He is a Boy, And we may run away with honour. Page. That ye shall not, And being a Boy I am fitter to encounter A Child in Law as you are, under twenty: Thou sot, thou three-score Sot, and that's a Child Again I grant you. Unc. Nephew, here's an age: Boyes are turn'd men, and men are Children. Page. Away you Pezants with your bought Gentry; Are not you he, when your fellow Passengers, Your last transportment being assayl'd by a Galley Hid your self i'the Cabbin: and the Fight done Peep'd above Hatches, and cry'd, Have we taken, Or are we tane? Come, I do want a slipper, But this shall serve: Swear all as I would have you, Or I will call some dozen brother Pages, (They are not far off I am sure) and we will blancket You untill you piss again. All. Nay, we will swear Sir. Page. ['Tis] your best course: First, you shall swear never to name my Lord, Or hear him nam'd hereafter, but bare-headed. Next, to begin his health in every place, And never to refuse to pledge it, though You surfeit to the death. Lastly, to hold The poorest, litlest Page in reverence; To think him valianter, and a better Gentleman Than you three stamp'd together: and to give him Wine and Tobacco wheresoe're you meet, And the best meat if he can stay. All. We swear it loyally. Page. Then I dismiss you True Leigemen to the Pantoffle: I had more Articles, but I have business And cannot stay now: so adieu dear Monsieur, Tres noble & tres puissant. Unc. Adieu Monsieur. On. A vostre service & commandement. Tut. I told you Pupill, you'ld repent this foolery. On. Who, I repent? you are mistaken Tutor, I ne're repented any thing yet in my life, And scorne to begin now: Come, let's be melancholly. [Exeunt.

Lord. 'Twere better treat with 'em. Quee. I will no Treaties With a League-breaker and a Rebell; shall I Article with a Traitor? be compell'd To yield an innocent unto their fury Whom I have prov'd so to you? Euph. Gracious Queen, Though your own god-like disposition Would succor Virtue, and protect the right, Yet for the publick good, for the dear safety Of your most Royal only Son, consent To give me up the sacrifice to their malice, My life is aym'd at, and 'twere better far The blood of twenty thousand such as I Purpled our Seas, [than] that your Princely Son Should be endanger'd. Quee. Still well said honest Fool, Were their demand but one hair from thy head, By all the gods [I'ld] scorn 'em: were they here, The Majesty that dwels upon this brow Should strike 'em on their knees: As for my Son, Let 'em no more dare than they'l answer, I An equal Mother to my Countrey, am, And every virtuous Son of it is Son Unto my bosome, tender as mine own. Con. Oh, you are heavenly Madam, and the gods Can suffer nothing pass to injure you: The life that Conon promis'd, he stands now Ready to pay with joy. Quee. Farewell both, Success attend you: you have Souldiers been, Tam Marti quam Mercurio: if you bring not peace Bring me their heads. Con. I will put fair for one. [Exeunt Quee. Lords. Euph. Double the Guard upon her Highness Person, Conon. You must perform a friendly part, Which I shall counsel you. Con. I am your servant. [Exeunt.

Leo. Make good that Fortification, and the Watch Keep still upon the Battlements; Royall Sir, Weigh but our injuries, we have told you fully The manner and the matter hales us thus; Nor shall this upstart Mushrum bred i'th night, Sit brooding underneath your Mothers wings His damn'd impieties. Ag. For your self brave Prince, Fear nothing that this face of arms presents: We ask the Ravisher, and have no means To win him from your most indulgent Mother But by this practice. The. Stout Leonidas, Princely Agenor, your wrongs cry so loud, That who so would condemn you is not heard: I blame you not, who but Euphanes durst Make Stories like to this? My wrong's as strong Aske my revengeful arm to strengthen yours: As for my fear, know you, and Greece throughout.

Our Mother was a Spartan Princess born, That never taught me to spell such a word. Con. Sir, you do tempt your life. Euph. Conon, no more. Do thus as thou wouldst save it. [Sound Trumpet within. Ag. What Trumpet's this? Leo. Beneath I do perceive Two armed men, single, that [give] us summons As they would treat. Ag. Let us descend. Con. My Lord, I would you would excuse me, and proceed According to the Queens directions. Euph. Friend, As thou wouldst wear that title after death.

Perform my charge: no Soldier on his life Approach us nearer. Con. Safety to both the Princes, Loyalty To you Lord General, the Queen, your Mistriss As well as ours, though not to fear, to cut Civil dissention from her Land, and save Much guiltless blood, that uprore ever thirsts, And for the safeguard of her Son, by me (As you demand) hath sent the Lord Euphanes To plead his own cause, or to suffer death As you shall find him worthy; so delivering The Prince back, I shall leave him to your Guard. Leo. The Queen is good and gracious: kiss her hand. Ag. And seal our duties: Sir, depart in peace. The. Oh Sir, you now perceive, when in the scales Nature, and fond affection weigh together, One poizes like a feather, and you know my Lords What's to be done. Euph. Your Highness is unarm'd, Please you to use mine, and to lead the Army Back to your Mother: Conon, march you with 'em. Con. I will my Lord: But not so far as not To bring you help if danger look upon you. [Exit. Euph. Why do you look so strangely, fearfully, Or stay your deathful hand, be not so wise To stop your rage: look how unmov'dly, here I give my self my Countreys sacrifice, An innocent sacrifice: Truth laughs at death, And terrifies the killer more than kill'd; Integrity thus armless seeks her foes, And never needs the Target nor the Sword, Bow, nor invenom'd shafts. Leo. We are amaz'd, Not at your eloquence, but impudence, That dare thus front us. Ag. Kill him, who knows not The iron forehead that bold mischief wears. Leo. Forbear a while Agenor, I do tremble, And something sits like virtue in his face, Which the gods keep. Euph. Agenor, strike Leonidas You that have purchas'd Fame on certain grounds, Lose it on supposition? smear your hands In guiltless blood, laugh at my Martyrdom: But yet remember, when Posterity Shall read your Volumes fill'd with virtuous acts, And shall arrive at this black bloody leaf, Noting your foolish barbarisms, and my wrong, (As time shall make it plain) what follows this Disciphering any noble deed of yours Shall be quite lost, for men will read no more. Leo. Why? dare you say you are innocent? Euph. By all the gods, as they Of this foul crime, why Gent. pry clean through my life, Then weigh these circumstances: think you that he Which made day night, and men to furies turn'd, Durst not trust silence, vizors, nor her sence That suffer'd; but with Charms and Potions Cast her asleep, (for all this I have enquir'd) Acted the Fable of Proserpines Rape, The place (by all description) like to Hell: And all to perpetrate unknown his Lust, Would fondly in his person bring a Ring, And give it a betrothed Wife, i'th' same house Where the poor injur'd Lady liv'd and groan'd. Ag. Hell gives us Art to reach the depth of sin, But leaves us wretched fools, when we are in. Euph. Had it given me that Art, and left me so, I would not thus into the Lions jaws Have thrust my self (defenceless) for your good, The Princes safety, or the Common-weals: You know the Queen deny'd me, and sent us Commanders to surprize you, and to raze This Tower down, we had power enough to do it, Or starve you, as you saw, and not to tender My Person to your wrath, which I have done, Knowing my heart as pure as infants sleep. Leo. What think you, Sir? Ag. No harm I am sure: I weep. Euph. The gods are just, and mighty: but to give you Further assurance, and to make your selves Judges and witnesses of my innocence Let me demand this question, On what night Was this foul deed committed? Ag. On the Eave before our Marriage meant. Euph. Leonidas, (Your rage being off, that still drowns memory) Where was your self and I that very night, And what our conference? Leo. By the gods 'tis true: Both in her Highness Chamber conferring Even of this Match until an hour of day, And then came I to call you: we are sham'd. Ag. Utterly lost, and sham'd. Euph. Neither be chear'd, He that could find this out, can pardon it, And know this Ring was sent me from the Queen, How she came by it, yet is not enquir'd, Deeper occurrents hang on't: and pray Heaven That my suspitions prove as false as yours, Which (for the World) till I have greater proof I dare not utter what, nor whom they touch; Only this build upon, with all my nerves I'll labour with ye, till time waken truth. Ag. There are our swords Sir, turn the points on us, Leo. Punish rebellion, and revenge your wrong, Euph. Sir, my revenge shall be to make your peace, Neither was this rebellion, but rash love.