CUPID'S REVENGE.

Nis. She's twenty year old, I wonder She aske not a Husband. Dor. That were a folly in her; having refus'd all the Great Princes in one part of the world; She'll die a Maid. Age. She may ask but one, may she? Nis. A hundred times this day if she will; And indeed, every day is such a day, for though The Duke has vow'd it only on this day, He keeps it every day: he can deny Her nothing. [Cornets.

Leon. Come fair Hidaspes, thou art Duchess to day, Art thou prepar'd to aske, thou knowest My oath will force performance. And Leucippus, if she now ask ought that shall, Or would have performance After my death, when by the help of heaven, This Land is thine, accursed be thy race, May every one forget thou art my Son, And so their own obedience. Leucip. Mighty Sir, I do not wish to know that fatal hour, That is to make me King, but if I do, I shall most hastily, (and like a Son) Perform your grant[s] to all, chiefly to her: Remember that you aske what we Agreed upon. Leon. Are you prepar'd? then speak. Hida. Most Royal Sir, I am prepar'd, Nor shall my Will exceed a Virgins bounds, What I request shall both at once bring Me a full content. Leon. So it ever does: Thou only comfort of my feeble age, Make known thy good desire, For I dare swear thou lov'st me. Hidas. This is it I beg, And on my knees. The people of your Land, The Lycians, are through all the Nations That know their name, noted to have in use A vain and fruitless superstition; So much more hateful, that it bears the shew Of true Religion, and is nothing else But a false-pleasing bold lasciviousness. Leon. What is it? Hidas. Many ages before this, When every man got to himself a Trade, And was laborious in that chosen course, Hating an idle life, far worse than death: Some one that gave himself to Wine and Sloth, Which breed lascivious thoughts; And found himself conjoyn'd For that by every painful man, To take his stain away, fram'd to himself A god, whom he pretended to obey, In being thus dishonest, for a name He call'd him Cupid. This created god, Mans nature being ever credulous Of any vice that takes part with his blood, Had ready followers enow: and since In every age they grew, especially Amongst your Subjects, who do yet remain Adorers of that drowsie Deitie: Which drink invented: and the winged Boy, (For so they call him) has his sacrifices. These loose naked statues through the Land, And in every Village, nay the palace Is not free from 'em. This is my request, That these erect[ed] obscene Images May be pluckt down and burnt: and every man That offers to 'em any sacrifice, may lose his life. Leon. But be advis'd my fairest daughter, if he be A god, he will express it upon thee my child: Which heaven avert. Leucip. There is no such power: But the opinion of him fills the Land With lustful sins: every young man and maid That feel the least desire to one another, Dare not suppress it, for they think it is Blind Cupid's motion: and he is a god. Leon. This makes our youth unchaste. I am resolv'd: Nephew Ismenus, break the Statues down Here in the Palace, and command the City Do the like, let proclamations Be drawn, and hastily sent through the Land To the same purpose. Ismen. Sir, I will break down none my self, But I will deliver your command: Hand I will have none in't, for I like it not. Leon. Goe and command it. Pleasure of my life, Wouldst thou ought else? make many thousand suits, They must and shall be granted. Hid. Nothing else. [Exit Ismenus. Leon. But go and meditate on other suits, Some six days hence I'll give thee Audience again, And by a new oath, bind my self to keep it: Ask largely for thy self, dearer than life In whom I may be bold to call my self, More fortunate than any in my age, I will deny thee nothing. Leu. 'Twas well done, Sister. [Exeunt all but these three Lords. Nis. How like you this request my Lord[s]? Dor. I know not yet, I am so full of wonder, We shall be gods our selves shortly, And we pull 'em out of Heaven o' this fashion. Age. We shall have wenches now when we can Catch 'em, and we transgress thus. Nis. And we abuse the gods once, 'tis a Justice We should be held at hard meat: for my part, I'll e'en make ready for mine own affection, I know the god incenst must send a hardness Through all good Womens hearts, and then we have Brought our Eggs and Muskadine to a fair Market: Would I had giv'n a 100 l. for a tolleration, That I might but use my conscience in mine Own house. Dor. The Duke he's old and past it, he would Never have brought such a plague upon the Land else, 'Tis worse than Sword and Famine: Yet to say truth, we have deserv'd it, we have liv'd So wickedly, every man at his Livery, and wou'd that Wou'd have suffic'd us: we murmur'd at this Blessing, that was nothing; and cry'd out to the God for endless pleasures, he heard us, And supp[l]ied us, and our Women were new still As we need 'em: yet we like beasts still cry'd, Poor men can number their woers, give us Abundance: we had it, and this curse withal. Age. Berlady we are like to have a long Lent on't, Flesh shall be flesh: now Gentlemen I had rather Have anger'd all the gods, than that blind Gunner. I remem[b]er once the people did but slight him In a sacrifice: and what followed? Women kept their houses, grew good huswives Honest forsooth! was not that fine? Wore their own faces, Though they wear gay cloaths without surveying, And which was most lamentable, They lov'd their Husbands. Nis. I do remember it to my grief, Young Maids were as cold as Cowcumbers And much of that complexion: Bawds were abolisht: and, to which misery It must come again, There were no Cuckolds, Well, we had need pray to keep these Divels from us, The times grow mischievous. There he goes, Lord!

This is a sacriledge I have not heard of: Would I were gelt, that I might not Feel what follows. Age. And I too. You shall see within these Few years, a fine confusion i'the Countrey: mark it: Nay, and we grow for to depose the Powers, And set up Chastity again, well, I have done. A fine new goddess certainly, whose blessings Are hunger and hard beds. Nis. This comes of fulness, a sin too frequent with us I believe now we shall find shorter commons. Dor. Would I were married, somewhat has some favour; The race of Gentry will quite run out now, 'Tis only left to Husbands, if younger Sisters Take not the greater charity, 'tis lawful. Age. Well, let come what will come, I am but one, and as the plague falls, I'll shape my self: If Women will be honest, I'll be sound. If the god be not too unmerciful, I'll take a little still, where I can get it, And thank him, and say nothing. Nis. This ill wind yet may blow the City good, And let them, (if they can) get their own children, They have hung long enough in doubt, but howsoever, the old way was the surer, then they had 'em. Dor. Farewel my Lords, I'll e'en take up what Rent I can before the day, I fear the year will fall out ill. Age. We'll with you Sir: And love so favour us, As we are still thy servants. Come my Lords; Let's to the Duke, and tell him to what folly His doting now has brought him. [Exeunt.

Priest. Come my children, let your feet, In an even measure meet: And your chearful voices rise, For to present this Sacrifice; Lo great Cupid, in whose name, I his Priest begin the same. Young men take your Loves and kiss, Thus our Cupid honour'd is Kiss again, and in your kissing, Let no promises be missing: Nor let any Maiden here, Dare to turn away her ear, Unto the whisper of her Love, But give Bracelet, Ring or Glove, As a token to her sweeting, Of an after secret meeting: Now boy sing to stick our hearts Fuller of great Cupid's darts.

Lovers rejoyce, your pains shall be rewarded, The god of Love himself grieves at your crying: No more shall frozen honor be regarded, Nor the coy faces of a Maids denying. No more shall Virgins sigh, and say we dare not, For men are false, and what they do they care not, All shall be well again, then do not grieve, Men shall be true, and Women shall believe. Lovers rejoyce, what you shall say henceforth. When you have caught your Sweet-hearts in your arms, It shall be accounted Oracle, and Worth: No more faint-hearted Girls shall dream of harms, And cry they are too young, the god hath said, Fifteen shall make a Mother of a Maid: Then wise men, pull your Roses yet unblown, Love hates the too ripe fruit that falls alone.

Nilo. No more of this: here break your Rights for ever, The Duke commands it so; Priest do not stare, I must deface your Temple, though unwilling, And your god Cupid here must make a Scare-crow For any thing I know, or at the best, Adorn a Chimney-piece. Priest. Oh Sacriledge unheard of! Nilo. This will not help it, take down the Image[s] And away with 'em. Priest, change your coat you had best, all service now Is given to men: Prayers above their hearing Will prove but bablings: learn to lye and thrive, 'Twill prove your best profession: for the gods, He that lives by 'em now, must be a beggar. There's better holiness on earth they say, Pray God it ask not greater sacrifice. Go home, And if [y]our god be not deaf as well as blind, He will [make] some smoak for it. Gent. Sir— Nilo. Gentlemen, there is no talking, This must be done and speedily; I have commission that I must not break. Gent. We are gone, to wonder what shall follow. Nilo. On to the next Temple. [Exeunt.

Cupid. Am I then scorn'd? is my all-doing Will And Power, that knows no limit, nor admits none, Now look'd into by less than gods? and weak'ned Am I, whose Bow struck terror through the earth, No less than Thunder, and in this, exceeding Even gods themselves; whose knees before my Altars Now shook off; and contemn'd by such, whose lives Are but my recreation! anger rise My sufferance and my self are made the subject Of sins against us. Go thou out displeasure, Displeasure of a great god, flying thy self Through all this Kingdom: sow what ever evils Proud flesh is [taking of], amongst these Rebels: And on the first heart that despise my Greatness, Lay a strange misery, that all may know Cupid's revenge is mighty; with his Arrow Hotter than plagues or mine own anger, will I Now nobly right my self: nor shall the prayers Nor [sweete] smoaks on my Altars hold my hand, Till I have left this a most wretched Land. [Exit.

Hidas. Cleophila, what was he that went hence? Cleo. What means your Grace now? Hidas. I mean that handsome man, That something more than man I met at door. Cleo. Here was no handsome man. Hidas. Come, he's some one You would preserve in private, but you want Cunning to do it, and my eyes are sharper Than yours, and can with one neglecting glance, See all the graces of a man. Who was't? Cleo. That went hence now? Hidas. That went hence now, I, he. Cleo. Faith here was no such one as your Grace thinks. Zoylous your Brothers Dwarf went out but now. Hidas. I think 'twas he: how bravely he past by: Is he not grown a goodly Gentleman? Cleo. A goodly Gentleman, Madam? He is the most deformed fellow i'the Land. Hidas. Oh blasphemy: he may perhaps to thee Appear deform'd, for he is indeed Unlike a man: his shape and colours are Beyond the Art of Painting; he is like Nothing that we have seen, yet doth resemble Apollo, as I oft have fancied him, When rising from his bed, he stirs himself And shakes day from his hair. Cleo. He resembles Apollo's Recorder. Hidas. Cleophila, go send a Page for him, And thou shalt see thy error, and repent. [Exit Cleo. Alas, what do I feel, my bloud rebells, And I am one of those I us'd to scorn, My Maiden-thoughts are fled against my self, I harbor Traitors in my Virginity, That from my Childhood kept me company, Is heavier than I can endure to bear: Forgive me Cupid, for thou art a god, And I a wretched creature; I have sinn'd, But be thou merciful, and grant that yet I may enjoy what thou wilt have me, Love.

[Cleo.] Zoylous is here Madam. Hida. He's there indeed. Now be thine own Judge; see thou worse than mad, Is he deformed? look upon those eyes, That let all pleasure out into the world, Unhappy that they cannot see themselves; Look on his hair, that like so many beams, Streaking the East, shoot light o'er half the world, Look on him altogether, who is made As if two Natures had contention About their skill, and one had brought forth him. Zoy. Ha, ha, ha: Madam, though Nature Hath not given me so much As others in my outward shew; I bear a heart as loyal unto you In this unsightly body (which you please To make your mirth) as many others do That are far more befriended in their births; Yet I could wish my self much more deformed Than yet I am, so I might make your Grace More merry than you are, ha, ha, ha. Hidas. Beshrew me then if I be merry; But I[am] content whilst thou art with me: Thou that art my Saint: By hope of whose mild favour I do live To tell thee so: I pray thee scorn me not; Alas what can it add unto thy worth To triumph over me, that am a Maid, Without deceit? whose heart doth guide her tongue, Drown'd in my passions; yet I will take leave To call it reason that I dote on thee. Cleo. The Princess is besides her Grace I think, To talk thus with a fellow that will hardly Serve i'th' dark when one is drunk. Hida. What answer wilt thou give me? Zoy. If it please your Grace to jest on, I can abide it. Hida. If it be jest, not to esteem my life, Compar'd with thee: If it be jest in me, To hang a thousand kisses in an hour Upon those Lips, and take 'em off again: If it be jest for me to marry thee, And take obedience on me whilst I live: Then all I say is jest: For every part of this, I swear by those That see my thoughts, I am resolv'd to do, And I beseech thee, by thine own white hand, (Which pardon me, that I am bold to kiss With so unworthy Lips) that thou wilt swear To marry me, as I do here to thee, Before the face of heaven. Zoy. Marry you? ha, ha, ha. Hida. Kill me or grant, wilt thou not speak at all? Zoy. Why I will do your Will for ever. Hida. I ask no more: but let me kiss that mouth That is so merciful; that is my will: Next go with me before the King in haste, That is my Will; where I will make our Peers Know, that thou art their better. Zoy. Ha, ha, ha, that is fine, ha, ha, ha. Cleo. Madam, what means your Grace? Consider for the love of Heaven to what You run madly; will you take this Viper Into your bed? Hida. Away, hold off thy hands: Strike her sweet Zoylous, for it is my Will, Which thou hast sworn to doe. Zoy. Away for shame. Know you no manners: ha, ha, ha. [Exit. Cleo. Thou know'st none I fear, This is just Cupid's Anger, Venus look down mildly on us: And command thy Son to spare this Lady once, and let me be in love with [all]: and none in love with me. [Exit.

Timan. Is your Lordship for the Wars this Summer? Ismen. Timantus, wilt thou go with me? Timan. If I had a Company, my Lord. Ismen. Of Fidlers: Thou a company? No, no, keep thy Company at home, and cause cuckolds: The Wars will hurt thy face, there's no Semsters, Shoomakers, nor Taylors, nor Almond-milk i'th' morning, Nor poach'd Egs to keep your worship soluble, No man to warm your Shirt, and blow your Roses: Nor none to reverence your round lace Breeches: If thou wilt needs goe, and goe thus, Get a Case for thy Captainship, a shower will spoil thee else. Thus much for thee. Tim. Your Lordship's wondrous witty, very pleasant believe't. [Exit.

Leon. No news yet of my Son? Tela. Sir, there be divers out in search: No doubt they'll bring the truth where he is, Or the occasion that led him hence. Tim. They have good eyes then. Leon. The gods goe with them: Who be those that wait there? Tele. The Lord Ismenus, your General, for his dispatch. Leon. Oh Nephew: we have no use to imploy your Virtue in our War: now the Province is well setled. Hear you aught of the Marquis? Ismen. No Sir. Leon. 'Tis strange he should be gone thus: These five days he was not seen. Tim. I'll hold my [life], I could bolt him in an hour: Leon. Where's my Daughter? Dori. About the purging of the Temples, Sir. Leon. She's chaste and virtuous; fetch her to me, And tell her I am pleas'd to grant her now Her last request, without repenting me. [Exit Nis. Be it what it will: she is wise, Dorialus And will not press me farther than a Father. Dor. I pray the best may follow; yet if your Grace Had taken the opinions of your people, At least of such, whose wisdoms ever wake About your safety, I may say it, Sir, Under your noble pardon: that this change Either had been more honor to the gods, Or I think not at all. Sir, the Princess.

Leon. Oh my Daughter, my health! And did I say my soul, I ly'd not; Thou art so near me, speak, and have whatever Thy wise Will leads thee too: had I a Heaven, It were too poor a place for such a goodness. Dor. What's here? Agen. An Apes skin stuft I think, 'tis so plump. Hida. Sir, you have past your word, Still be a Prince, and hold you to it. Wonder not I press you, my life lies in your word: If you break that, you have broke my heart, I must ask That's my shame, and your Will must not deny me: Now for Heaven be not forsworn. Leon. By the gods I will not, I cannot, were there no other power, Than my love call'd to a witness of it. Dor. They have much reason to trust, You have forsworn one of 'em out o'th' countrey already. Hida. Then this is my request: This Gent. Be not ashamed, Sir: You are worth a Kingdom. Leon. In what? Hida. In the way of marriage. Leon. How? Hida. In the way of marriage, it must be so, Your oath is ti'd to Heaven: as my love to him. Leon. I know thou dost but try my age, Come ask again. Hida. If I should ask all my life-time, this is all still. Sir, I am serious, I must have this worthy man without enquiring why; and suddenly, and freely: Doe not look for reason or obedience in my words: My love admits no wisdom: Only haste, and hope hangs on my fury, Speak Sir, speak, but not as a Father, I am deaf and dull to counsel: inflamed blood Hears nothing but my Will; For Gods sake speak. Dor. Here's a brave alteration. Nis. This comes of Chastity. Hida. Will not you speak Sir? Agen. The god begins his vengeance; what a sweet youth he has sent us here, with a pudding in's belly! Leon. Oh let me never speak, Or with my words let me speak out my life; Thou power abus'd: great Love, whose vengeance now we feel and fear, have mercy on this Land. Nis. How does your Grace? Leon. Sick, very sick I hope. Dor. Gods comfort you. Hida. Will not you speak? is this your Royal word? Do not pull perjurie upon your soul. Sir, you are old, and near your punishment; remember. Leon. Away base woman. Hidas. Then be no more my Father, but a plague, I am bound to pray against: be any sin May force me to despair, and hang my self, Be thy name never more remembred King But in example of a broken faith, And curst even to forgetfulness: May thy Land bring forth such Monsters as thy Daughter is! I am weary of my rage. I pray forgive me, And let me have him, will you Noble Sir? Leon. Mercy, mercy heaven: Thou heir of all dishonor, shamest thou not to draw This little moisture left for life, thus rudely from me? Carry that slave to death. Zoy. For heavens sake Sir, it is no fault of mine, That she will love me. Leon. To death with him, I say. Hida. Then make haste Tyrant, or I'll be for him: This is the way to Hell. Leon. Hold fast, I charge you away with him. Hida. Alas old man, Death hath more doors than one, And I will meet him. [Exit Hida. Leon. Dorialus, Pray see her in her chamber, And lay a guard about her: The greatest curse the gods lay on our frailties, Is Will and Disobedience in our Issues, Which we beget as well as them to plague us, With our fond loves; Beasts you are only blest That have that happy dulness to forget What you have made, your young ones grieve not you They wander where they list, and have their ways Without dishonor to you; and their ends, Fall on 'em without sorrow of their Parents, Or after ill remembrance: Oh this Woman Would I had made my self a Sepulcher, When I made her: Nephew, where is the Prince? Pray God he have not more part of her baseness Than of her bloud about him. Gentlemen: where is he? Ism. I know not Sir. H'as his ways by himself, is too wise for my company. Leon. I do not like this hiding of himself, From such society as his person: Some of it ye needs must know. Isme. I am sure not I: nor have known twice this ten days, which if I were as proud as some of 'em, I should take scurvily, but he is a young man. Let him have [his] swinge, 'twill make him.

There's some good matter now in hand: How the slave jeers and grins; the Duke is pleas'd, There's a new pair of Scarlet Hose now, and as much Money to spare, as will fetch the old from pawn, a Hat and a Cloak to goe out to morrow: Garters and Stockings come by nature. Leon. Be sure of this. Tima. I durst not speak else, Sir.

Cupid. Leucippus thou art shot through with a shaft That will not rankle long, yet sharp enough To sow a world of helpless misery— In this [happie] Kingdom, dost thou think Because thou art a Prince, to make a part Against my power, but it is all the fault Of thy old Father, who believes [his] age Is cold enough to quench my burning Darts, But he shall know e'r long, that my smart loose, Can thaw Ice, and inflame the wither'd heart Of Nestor, thou thy self art lightly struck, But his mad love, shall publish that the rage Of Cupid, has the power to conquer Age. [Exit.

Leu. Why, what's the matter? Bacha. Have you got the spoil You thirsted for? Oh tyrannie of men! Leu. I pray thee leave. Bacha. Your envy is, Heaven knows, Beyond the reach of all our feeble sex: What pain alas, could it have been to you, If I had kept mine honor? you might still Have been a Prince, and still this Countreys Heir, That innocent Guard which I till now had kept, For my defence, my virtue, did it seem So dangerous in a State, that your self came to suppress it? Leu. Drie thine eyes again, I'll kiss thy tears away, This is but folly, 'tis past all help. Bacha. Now you have won the treasure, 'Tis my request that you would leave me thus: And never see these empty Walls again, I know you will do so, and well you may: For there is nothing in 'em that's worth A glance, I loath my self, and am become Another Woman; One methinks with whom I want acquaintance. Leu. If I do offend thee, I can be gone, And though I love thy sight, so highly do I prize thine own content, that I will leave thee. Bac. Nay, you may stay now; You should have gone before: I know not now Why I should fear you: All I should have kept Is stol'n: Nor is it in the power of man To rob me farther: if you can invent, Spare not; No naked man fears robbing less Than I doe: now you may for ever stay. Leu. Why, I could do thee farther wrong. Bac. You have a deeper reach in evill than I: 'Tis past my thoughts. Leu. And past my will to act: but trust me I could do it. Bac. Good Sir do, that I may know there is a wrong beyond what you have done me. Leu. I could tell all the world what thou hast done. Bac. Yes you may tell the world And do you think I am so vain to hope You will not? you can tell the world but this, That I am a widow, full of tears in shew, My Husband dead: And one that lov'd me so, Hardly a week, forgot my modestie, And caught with youth and greatness, Gave my self to live in sin with you; This you may tell: And this I do deserve. Leu. Why dost thou think me so base to tell! These limbs of mine shall part From one another on a wrack, Ere I disclose; But thou dost utter words That much afflict me: you did seem as ready Sweet Bacha, as my self. Bac. You are right a man: when they have 'witcht us into miserie, poor innocent souls, They lay the fault on us: But be it so; for Prince Leucippus sake I will bear any thing. Leucip. Come weep no more, I wrought thee to it, it was my fault: Nay, see if thou wilt leave? Here, take this pearl, Kiss me sweet Bacha, and receive this purse. Bacha. What should I do with these? they will not deck my mind. Leucip. Why keep 'em to remember me. I must be gone, I have been absent long: I know the Duke my Father is in rage, But I will see thee suddenly again. Farewell my Bacha. Bacha. Gods keep you, Do you he[a]re Sir: pray give me a point to wear. Leu. Alas good Bacha, take on[e], I pray thee where thou wilt. Bac. Coming from you. This Point is of as high Esteem with me, as all pearl and gold: nothing but good be ever with or near you. Leu. Fare thee well mine own good Bacha; I will make all haste. [Exit. Bacha. Just as you are a Dosen I [e]steem you: No more, does he think I would prostitute My self for love? it was the love of these pearls And gold that won me, I confess I lust more after him than any other, And would at any rate if I had store, Purchase his fellowship: but being poor, I'll both enjoy his bodie and his purse, And he a Prince, nere think my self the worse.

Leon. Nay, you must back and shew us what it is, That 'witches you out of your Honor thus. Bacha. Who's that? Tima. Look there Sir. Leon. Lady, never flye you are betray'd. Bacha. Leave me my tears a while, And to my Just rage give a little place: What saucy man are you, that without leave, Enter upon a Widows mournfull house? You hinder a dead man from many tears. Who did deserve more than the world can shed, Though they should weep themselves to Images. If not for love of me, yet of your self Away, for you can bring no [comfort] to me. But you may carry hence, you know not what. Nay sorrow is infectious. Leon. Thou thy self Art grown infectious: wouldst thou know my name? I am the Duke, father to this young-man Whom thou corrupt'st. Bacha. Has he th[e]n told him all? Leuc. You do her wrong Sir. Bacha. O he has not told. Sir I beseech you pardon My wild tongue, directed by a weak distemper'd head Madded with grief: Alas I did not know You were my Sovereign; but now you may Command my poor unworthy life, Which will be none I hope ere long. Leon. All thy dissembling will never hide thy shame: And wer't not more respecting Womanhood in General, than any thing in thee, thou shouldst Be made such an example, that posteritie, When they would speak most bitterly, should say, Thou art as impudent as Bacha was. Bacha. Sir, though you be my King, whom I will Serve in all just causes: yet when wrongfully You seek to take my Honor, I will rise Thus, and defie you; for it is a Jewell Dearer than you can give, which whilst I keep, (Though in this lowly house) I shall esteem My self above the Princes of the earth That are without it. If the Prince your son, Whom you accuse me with, know how to speak Dishonor of me, if he do not do it, The plagues of hell light on him, may he never Govern this Kingdome: here I chalenge him Before the face of heaven, my Liege, and these, To speak the worst he can: if he will lye, To lose a womans fame, I'll say he is Like you (I think I cannot call him worse.) He's dead, that with his life would have defended My reputation and I forct to play (That which I am) the foolish woman, And use my liberal tongue. Leu. Is't possible! we men are children in our Carriages, compar'd with women: 'wake thy self For shame, and leave not her whose honor thou Shou'dst keep safe as thine own, alone to free her self: But I am prest I know not how, with guilt, And feel my conscience (never us'd to lye) Loth to allow my tongue to add a lye To that too much I did: but it is lawfull To defend her, that only for my Love lov'd evill. Leon. Tell me, why did you Leucip: stay here so long? Leu. If I can urge ought from me but a truth, Hell take me. Leon. What's the matter, why speak you not? Tima. Alas good Sir, forbear To urge the Prince, you see his shamefastness. Bacha. What does he say Sir? if thou be a Prince Shew it, and tell the truth. Ismen. If you have lain with her tell your Father No doubt but he has done as ill before now: The Gentlewoman will be proud on't. Bacha. For God's sake speak. Leu. Have you done prating yet? Ismen. Who prates? Leu. Thou know'st I do not speak to thee Ismenus: But what said you Tima; concerning my shamefastness? Tima. Nothing I hope that might displease your Highness. Leu. If any of thy great, Great-grandmothers This thousand years, had been as chast as she, It would have made thee honester, I stay'd To he[a]re what you wou'd say: she is by heaven Of the most strict and blameless chastitie That ever woman was: (good gods forgive me) Had Tarquin, met with her, she had been kil'd With a Slave by her ere she had agreed: I lye with her! wou'd I might perish then. Our Mothers, whom we all must reverence, Could nere exceed her for her chastitie, Upon my soul: for by this light she's A most obstinate modest creature. Leon. What did you with her then so long Leucippus? Leu. I'll tell you Sir: You see she's beautifull. Leon. I see it well. Leu. Mov'd by her face, I came with lustful thoughts, Which was a fault in me: But telling truth, something more pardonable, (And for the world I will not lye to you:) Proud of my self, I thought a Princes name Had power to blow 'em down flat of their backs; But here I found a Rock not to be shook: For as I hope for good Sir, all the battery That I could lay to her, or of my person, My greatness, or gold, could nothing move her. Leon. 'Tis very strange, being so young and fair. Leu. She's almost thirty Sir. Leon. How do you know her age so just? Leu. She told it me her self Once when she went about to shew by reason I should leave wooing her. Leon. She stains the ripest Virgins of her age. Leu. If I had sin'd with her, I would be loth To publish her disgrace: but by my life I would have told it you, because I think You would have pardon'd me the rather: And I will tell you father: By this light Sir, (But that I never will bestow my self But to your liking) if she now would have me, I now would marry her. Leon. How's that Leucippus! Leu. Sir, will you pardon me one fault, which yet I have not done, but had a will to do, and I will tell it? Leon. Be't what it will I pardon thee. Leu. I offered marriage to her. Leon. Did she refuse it? Leucip. With that earnestn[e]ss, and almost scorn To think of any other after her lost Mate, that she Made me think my self unworthy of her. Leon. You have stay'd too long Leucippus. Leu. Yes Sir, forgive me Heaven, what multitude Of oaths have I bestow'd on lies, and yet they were Officious lyes, there was no malice in 'em. Leon. She is the fairest creature that ever I beheld; And then so chaste, 'tis wonderfull: the more I look On her, the more I am amaz'd. I have long thought of a wife, and one I would have Had, but that I was afraid to meet a woman That might abuse my age: but here she is Whom I may trust to; of a chastitie Impregnable, and approved so by my son: The meaness of her birth will still preserve her In due obedience; and her beauty is Of force enough to pull me back to youth. My son once sent away, whose rivall-ship I have just cause to fear, if power, o[r] gold, Or wit, can win her to me, she is mine. Nephew Ismenus, I have new intelligence, Your Province is unquiet still. Ismen. [Ime] glad on't. Leon. And so dangerously, that I must send the Prince in person with you. Ismen. [Ime] glad of that too: Sir, will you dispatch us We shall wither here for ever. Leon. You shall be dispatcht within this hour: Leucippus, never wonder, nor ask, it must be thus. Lady I ask your pardon, whose virtue I have Slubberd with my tongue, and you shall ever be Chast in my memory hereafter; But we old men often doat: to make amends for My great fault, receive that Ring: I'm sorry for your grief, may it soon leave you: Come my Lords lets begon. [Exeunt. Bacha. Heaven bless your Grace. One that had but so much modestie left, as to blush, Or shrink a little at his first encounter, Had been undone; where I come off with honor, And gain too: they that never wou'd be tract In any course, by the most subtle sense Must bear it through with frontless impudence. [Exit.

Dor. Gentlemen this is a strange peece of Justice, To put the wretched Dwarf to death because She doated on him; Is she not a woman, and Subject to those mad figaries her whole Sex Is infected with? Had she lov'd you, or you, or I, Or all on's (as indeed the more the merryer still With them) must we therefore have our heads par'd With a Hatchet? So she may love all the Nobility Out o'th Dukedome in a month, and let the raskals in. Nis. You will not, or you do not see the need That makes this just to the world? Dor. I cannot tell, I would be loth to feel it: But the best is, she loves not proper men, we three Were in wise cases else: but make me know this need.

Tel. Sir, here's your sword. Leon. O well sed: let me see it, I could me thinks Why Telamon, bring me another: what, thinkst thou I will wear a sword in vain? Tela. He has not strength enough to draw it, A yoak of Fleas ty'd to a hair would have drawn it. 'Tis out sir now, the Scabbard is broke. Leon. O put it up again, and on with it; me thinks I am not drest till I feel my sword on. Telamon, if any of my counsell aske for me, Say I am gone to take the air. Tima. He has not been drest this twenty years then, If this vain hold but a week, he will learn to play o'th base violl and sing to't: He's poetical alreadie; For I have spide a Sonnet on's making lye by's beds side, I'll be so unmannerly to read it. [Exit.

Cleo. She's going, wretched wom[e]n that we are: Look to her, and I'll pray the while. Hero. Why Madam? [Shee kneels. Cleo. Cupid, pardon what is past, And forgive our sins at last, Then we will be coy no more, But thy Deity Adore, Troths at fifteen we will plight, And will tread a Dance [each] night. In the fields, or by the Fire, With the youths that have desire. (How does she yet?) Hero. O ill: Cleo. Given Ear-rings we will wear, Bracelets of our Lovers hair, Which they on our Arms shall twist, With their Names carv'd on our wrist: All the money that we owe, We in Tokens will bestow: And learn to write, that when 'tis sent, Onely our Loves know what it meant: O then pardon what is past, And forgive our Sins at last. (What, Mends she?) Hero. Nothing, you do it not wantonly, you shou'd sing. [Cleo. Why? Hero. Leave, leave, 'tis now too late. Shee is dead: Her last is breathed.] Cleo. What shall we doe. Hero. Go run, And tell the Duke; And whilst I'll close her eyes. Thus I shut thy faded light, And put it in eternall night. Where is she can boldly say Though she be as fresh as May: She shall not by this Corps be laid, Ere to morrows light doe fade. Let us all now living be, Warn'd by thy strict Chastitie; And marry all fast as we can, Till then we keep a piece of man, Wrongfully from them that owe it Soon may every Maid bestow it. [Exeunt.

Bac. Who is it? Maid. Forsooth there's [a] gallant Coach at the dore, And the brave old man in't, that you said was the Duke.

Bacha. This fellow lyes as lightly, as if hee were in cut Taffata. Alas good Almanack get thee to Bed, and tell what weather we shall have to morrow. Leon. Widow I am come in short to be a Suiter. Bacha. For whom? Leon. Why by my troth, I come to wooe thee wench: And win thee for my self: Nay, look upon me: I have about me that will do it. Bac. Now Heaven defend me, your Whore [you] shall never: I thank the Gods, I have a little left me to keep me warm, and honest: if your grace take not that, I seek no more. Leon. I am so far from taking any thing, I'll add unto thee. Bach. Such Additions may be for your ease Sir, Not my honestie: I am well in being single, good Sir seek another, I am no meat for money. Leon. Shall I fight for thee? This sword shall cut his throat, that dars lay claim But to a Finger of thee, but to a look, I would See such a fellow. Bac. It would be but a cold sight to you: This is the father of S. George a foot-back, Can such dry mumming talk. Tim. Before the gods, your grace lookes like Æneas. Bac. He looks like his old father upon his back, Crying to get Aboord. Leon. How shall I win thy love, I pray thee tell me? I'll marry thee if thou desirest that: That is an honest Course, I am in good earnest, and presently within this hour, [I] am mad for thee: prethee deny me not, For as I live I'll pine thee, but I'll have thee. Bacha. Now he's in the Toyl, I'll hold him fast. Tima. You do not know what 'tis to be a Queen, Go too you Maid, else what the old man falls short of, there's others can eech out, when you please to call on 'em. Bacha. I understand you not, Love I adore thee, Sir, on my knees I give you hearty thanks, for so much Honoring your humble Hand-mayd above her birth: Far more her weak deservings, I dare not trust the Envious tongues of all that must repine at my unworthy rising. Beside, you have many fair ones in your Kingdome Born to such worth: O turn your self about And make a Noble choice. Leon. If I do, let me famish: I will have thee, Or break up house, and boord here.

Leu. O thou art vain, thou knowst I doe not love her: What shall I doe? I would my tongue had led me To any other thing, but blasphemy, So I had mist commending of this woman, Whom I must reverence now: she is my Mother, My sin Ismenus has wrought all this ill: And I beseech thee, to be warn'd by me, And doe not lye, if any man should aske thee But How thou dost, or What a clock 'tis now. Be sure thou doe not lye, make no excuse For him that is most near thee: never let The most officious falsehood scape thy tongue, For they above (that are intirely truth) Will make that seed, which thou hast sown Of lyes, yield miseries a thousand fold Upon thine head, as they have done on mine.

Leu. My good Ismenus, hold me by the wrist: And if thou see'st me fainting, wring me hard, For I shall swoon again else.— [Kneels. Leon. Welcome my son; rise, I did send for thee Back from the province, by thy Mothers counsell, Thy good Mother here, who loves thee well: She would not let me venture all my joy Amongst my enemies: I thank thee for her, And none but thee, I took her on thy word. Leucip. Pinch harder. Leon. And she shall bid thee welcome: I have now Some near affairs, but I will drink a Health To thee anon: Come Telamon, [Ime] grown Lustier, I thank thee for't, since I marryed; I can stand now alone, why Telamon, And never stagger. [Exit Leontius, Telamon. Bac. Welcome most noble Sir, whose fame is come Hither before you: out alas you scorn me, And teach me what to doe. Leu. No, you are my Mother. Bacha. Far unworthy of that name God knows: But trust me, here before these Lords, I am no more but Nurse unto the Duke; Nor will I breed a faction in the State, It is too much for me that I am rais'd Unto his bed, and will remain the servant Of you that did it. Leu. Madam I will serve you As shall become me. O dissembling woman! Whom I must reverence though. Take from thy Quiver, sure-aim'd Apollo; one of thy swift darts, Headed with thy consuming golden beams, And let it melt this body into mist, That none may find it. Bac. Shall I beg my Lords This Room in private for the Prince and me? [Exeunt all but Leu. and Bach. Leu. What will she say now? Bach. I must still enjoy him: Yet there is still left in me a spark of woman, That wishes he [w]ould move it, but he stands, As if he grew there with his eyes on earth, Sir, you and I when we were last together Kept not this distance as we were afraid Of blasting by our selves. Leu. Madam 'tis true, Heaven pardon it. Bach. Amen Sir. You may think that I have done you wrong in this strange marriage. Leu. 'Tis past now. Bach. But it was no fault of mine: The world had call'd me mad, had I refus'd The King: nor layd I any train to catch him, It was your own Oaths did it. Leu. 'Tis a truth: that takes my sleep away, but Would to Heaven, if it had so been pleas'd, you had Refus'd him, though I had gratifi'd that courtesie With having you my self: But since 'tis thus, I doe beseech you that you will be honest From henceforth; and not abuse his credulous Age, Which you may easily doe. As for my self What I can say, you know alas too well Is ty'd within me, here it will sit like lead, But shall offend no other, it will pluck me Back from my ent'rance into any mirth, As if a servant came, and whisper'd with me Of some friends death, but I will bear my self, To you, with all the due obedience A son owes to a Mother: more than this, Is not in me, but I must leave the rest to the Just gods: who in their blessed time, When they have given me punishment enough, For my rash Sin, will mercifully find As unexpected means to ease my grief As they did now to bring it. Bac. Grown so godly? this must not be. And I will be to you, no other than a natural Mother ought; And for my honesty, so you will swear Never to urge me, I shall keep it safe from any other. Leu. Bless me I should urge you? Bacha. Nay but swear then that I may be at peace, For I doe feel a weakness in my self, That can denie you nothing, if you tempt me, I shall embrace Sin as it were a friend, and run to meet it. Leu. If you knew how far It were from me, you would not urge an Oath. But for your satisfaction, when I tempt you. Bac. Swear not: I cannot move him, this sad talk Of things past help, does not become us well. Shall I send one for my Musicians, and we'll dance? Leu. Dance Madam? Bac. Yes, Alavalta. Leu. I cannot dance Madam. Bac. Then lets be merry. Leu. I am as my Fortunes bid me. Do not you see me sowr? Bac. Yes. And why think you I smile? Leu. I am so far from any joy my self, I cannot fancie a cause of mirth. Bac. I'll tell you, we are alone: Leu. Alone? Bac. Yes. Leu. 'Tis true: what then? Bac. What then? you make my smiling now Break into laughter: what think you is to be done then? Leu. We shou'd pray to Heaven for mercy. Bacha. Pray? that were a way indeed To pass the time: but I will make you blush, To see a bashfull woman teach a man What we should doe alone: try again If you can find it out. Leu. I dare not think I understand you. Bac. I must teach you then; Come, kiss me. Leu. Kiss you? Bac. Yes, be not asham'd: You did it not your self, I will forgive you. Leuc. Keep you displeas'd gods, the due respect I ought to bear unto this wicked woman, As she is now my Mother, Haste within me, Lest I add sins to sins, till no repentance will cure me. Bac. Leave these melancholly moods, That I may swear thee welcome on thy Lipps A thousand times. Leuc. Pray leave this wicked talk, You doe not know to what my Fathers wrong May urge me. Bac. I'm careless, and doe weigh The world, my life, and all my after hopes Nothing without thy Love, mistake me not: Thy Love, as I have had it, free and open As wedlock is, within it self, what say you? Leu. Nothing. Bac. Pitty me, behold a Duchess Kneels for thy mercie, and I swear to you Though I should lye with you, it is no Lust, For it desires no change, I could with you Content my self; what answer will you give? Leuc. They that can answer must be less amaz'd, Than I am now: you see my tears deliver My meaning to you. Bac. Shall I be contem'd? thou art a beast, worse than a savage beast, To let a Lady kneel, to beg that thing Which a right man would offer. Leu. 'Tis your will Heaven: but let me bear me like My self, how ever she does. Bac. Were you made an Eunuch, since you went hence? Yet they have more desire than I can find in you: How fond was I to beg thy love! I'll force thee to my will Dost thou not know that I can make the King Dote as my list? yield quickly, or by Heaven I'll have thee kept in prison for my purpose, Where I will make thee serve my turn, and have thee fed With such meats as best shall fit my ends And not thy health, why dost not speak to me? And when thou dost displease me, and art grown Less able to perform; then I will have thee Kill'd and forgotten: Are you striken dumb? Leu. All you have nam'd but making of me sin With you, you may command, but never that; Say what you will, I'll hear you as becomes me, If you speak, I will not follow your counsell, Neither will I tell the world to your disgrace, But give you the just honor That is due from me to my Father's wife. Bac. Lord how full of wise formality you [are] grown Of late: but you were telling me You could have wisht that I had marry'd you, If you will swear so yet, I'll make away the King. Leuc. You are a strumpet. Bacha. Nay, I care not For all your Railings: They will Batter walls And take in Towns, as soon as trouble me: Tell him, I care not, I shall undoe you only, which is no matter. Leu. I appeal to you still, and for ever, that are And cannot be other, Madam, I see 'tis in your power To work your will on him: And I desire you To lay what trains you will for my wish'd death, But suffer him to find his quiet grave In peace; Alas he never did you wrong, And farther I beseech you pardon me, For the ill word I gave you, for how ever You may deserve, it became not me To call you so, but passion urges me I know not whither: my heart break now, & ease me ever. Bacha. Pray you get you hence With your goodly humor, I am weary of you extreamely: Leu. Trust me, so am I of my self too: Madam, I'll take my leave; gods set all right. Bacha. Amen, Sir, get you gon; Am I deny'd? it does not trouble me That I have mov'd, but that I am refus'd: I have lost my patience: I will make him know Lust is not Love, for Lust will find a mate While there are men, and so will I: and more

Than one, or twenty: yonder is Timantus, A fellow void of any worth, to raise himself, And therefore like to catch at any evil That will but pluck him up: him will I make Mine own: Timantus. Timantus. Madam? Bac. Thou know'st well Thou wert by chance, a means of this my raising: Brought the Duke to me, and though 'twere but chance I must reward thee. Tim. I shall bend my service unto your Highness. Bacha. But do it then entirely, and in every thing, And tell me, couldst thou now think that thing Thou wouldst not do for me? Timant. No by my soul Madam. Bacha. Then thou art right. Go to my Lodging, and I'll follow thee. [Exit Timantus. With my instruction I do see already, This Prince that did but now contemn me, dead: Yet will I never speak an evil word Unto his Father of him, till I have won A belief, I love him, but I'll make His virtues his undoing, and my praises Shall be so many swords against his breast, Which once perform'd, I'll make Urania My Daughter, the Kings heir, and plant my issue In this large Throne: nor shall it be withstood, They that begin in Lust, must end in Blood. [Exit.

Doria. We live to know a fine time, Gentl. Nis. And a fine Duke, that through his doting age Suffers him to be a child again Under his Wives tuition. Agen. All the Land holds in that tenor too: in womans service? sure we shall learn to spinn. Dor. No, that's too honest: we shall have other Liberal Sciences taught us too soon; Lying, and flattering, those are the studies now: And Murther shortly I know, will be humanity, Gent. If we live here we must be knaves, believe it. Nisus. I cannot tell my Lord Dorialus, though my Own nature hate it, if all determine to be knaves, I'll try what I can do upon my self: that's certain, I will not have my throat cut for my goodness, The virtue will not quit the pain. Age. But pray you tell me, Why is the Prince, now ripe and full experient, Not made a dore in the State? Nis. Because he is honest.

Bac. O dear Sir: you are a father, and those joys To you, speak in your heart, not in your tongue. Leo. This leaves a tast behind it worse than physick. Bac[h]. Then for all his wisdome, valour, Good fortune, and all those friends of honor, They are in him as free and natural, as passions In a Woman. Leon. You make me blush at all these years To see how blindly you have flung your praises Upon a Boy, a very child, and worthless, Whilst I live, of these Honors. Bac. I would not have my love Sir, make my tongue Shew me so much a woman: as to praise Or dispraise, where my will is, without reason, Or generall allowance of the people. Leon. Allowance of the people, what allow they? Bac. All, I have sed for truth, and they must do it, And doat upon him: love him, and admire him. Leon. How's that? Bac. For in this youth and noble forwardness All things are bound together that are kingly, A fitness to bear rule: Leon. No more. Bac. And Sovereignty not made to know command. Leon. I have sed, no more. Bac. I have done Sir, though unwilling, and pardon me. Leon. I do, not a word more. Bac[h]. I have gi'n thee poyson Of more infection than the Dragons tooth, Or the gross Air o'er heated. Leon. Timantus when saw you the Prince? Tim. I left him now Sir. Leon. Tell me truely, out of your free opinion without courting. How you like him. Tim. How I like him? Leon. Yes: for you in conversation may see more Than a Father. Bac. It works. Timantus. Your Grace has chosen out an ill observer. Leon. Yes, I mean of his ill: you talk rightly. Tim. But you take me wrong: All I know by him I dare deliver boldly: He is the storehouse And head of virtue; your great self excepted, That feeds the Kingdome. Leon. These are flatteries: speak me his vices, there you do a service worth a Fathers thanks. Tim. Sir, I cannot. If there be any, sure they are the times which I could wish less dangerous. But pardon me, I am too bold. Leon. [You] are not, forward and open what these dangers are. Timan. Nay, good Sir. Leon. Nay, fall not off again, I will have all. Timan. Alas Sir, what am I, you should believe My eyes or ears, so subtle to observe Faults in a State: all my main business Is service to your Grace, and necessaries For my poor life. Leon. Do not displease me Sirrah, But that you know tell me, and presently. Timan. Since your Grace will have it I'll speak it freely: Alwayes my obedience And love preserv'd unto the Prince. Leon. Prethee to the matter. Tim. For Sir, if you consider How like a Sun in all his great employments, How full of heat. Leon. Make me understand what I desire. Tim. And then at his return. Leon. Do not anger me. Tim. Then thus Sir: All mislike ye, As they would do the gods, if they did dwell with 'em. Leon. What? Tim. Talke and prate, as their ignorant rages Leads 'em without Alleageance or Religion. For Heavens sake have a care of your own person: I cannot tell, their wickedness may lead Farther than I dare think yet. Leo. O base people. Tim. Yet the Prince, for whom this is pretended may Persuade 'em, and no doubt will: virtue is ever watchfull, But be you still secur'd and comforted. Leon. Heaven how have I offended, that this rod So heavy and unnaturall, should fall upon me When I am old and helpless. Tim. Brave Gentl. that such a madding love should follow thee, to rob thee of a Father: All the Court is full of dangerous whispers. Leon. I perceive it, and 'spight of all their strengths Will make my safety: I'll cut him shorter. I'll cut him shorter first, then let him rule. Bach. What a foul Age is this, when Virtue is made a sword to smite the virtuous! Alas, alas: Leon. I'll teach him to fly lower. Tim. By no means Sir, rather, make more your love, And hold your favor to him: for 'tis now Impossible to yoke him, if his thoughts, As I must ne'er believe, run with their rages, He never was so innocent, but what reason His Grace has to withdraw his love from me, And other good men that are near your person, I cannot yet find out: I know my duty Has ever been attending. Leon. 'Tis too plain: He means to play the villain, I'll prevent him, not a word more of this, be private. [Exit Leontius. Tim. Madam 'tis done. Bac. He cannot escape me. Have you spoken with the noble men? Tim. Yes Madam they are here: I wait a farther service. Bac. Till [you see] the Prince, you need no more instructions. Tim. No, I have it. [Exit Timantus.

Bac. That fool that willingly provoks a woman, Has made himself another evill Angell, And a new Hell, to which all other torments Are but mere pastime: Now my noble Lords, You must excuse me, that unmannerly We have broke your private business. Agen. Your good Grace may command us, and that. Bac. Faith my Lord Agenor: 'Tis so good a cause I am confident, you cannot loose by it. Dorialus. Which way does she fish now? The devill is but a fool to a right woman. Nisus. Madam, we must needs win in doing service to such a gracious Lady. Bac. I thank you, and will let you know the business: So I may have your helps, never be doubtfull, For 'tis so just a cause, and will to you Upon the knowledge seem so honorable, That I assure my self your willing hearts Will strait be for me in it. Age. If she should prove good now, what wer't like? Dorial. Thunder in Januarie, or a good woman, That's stranger than all Affrick. Bac. It shall not need your wonder, this it is: The Duke you know is old, and rather subject To ease and prayers now, than all those troubles, Cares, and continuall watchings, that attend A Kingdomes safety, therefore to prevent The fall of such a flourishing Estate As this has [ever] been, and to put off The murmure of the people that encrease Against my government, which the gods knows I onely feel the trouble of: I present The Prince unto your loves, a Gent. In whom all Excellencies are knit together, All peeces of a true man, let your prayers Win from the Duke half his Vexation, That he may undertake it, whose discretion I must confess, though it be from the Father, Yet now is stronger, and more apt to govern. 'Tis not my own desire, but all the Lands, I know the weakeness of it. Nisus. Madam, this noble care and love has won us For ever to your lives, we'll to the King, And since your Grace has put it in our mouths, We'll win him with the cunning'st words we can. Dorial. I was never cousen'd in a woman before. For commonly they are like Apples: If once they bruise They will grow rotten thorow, and serve for nothing but to asswage swellings. Bac. Good Lords delay no time, since 'tis your good Pleasures to think my counsell good, and by no means Let the Prince know it, whose affections Will stir mainly against it: besides his Father May hold him dangerous, if it be not carried So that his forward will appear not in it, Go, and be happy. Dorial. Well, I would not be Chronicl'd as thou Wilt be for a good woman, for all the world. Nisus. Madam, we kiss your hand, and so inspire. Nothing but happiness can crown our prayers. [Exeunt.

Ismen. Then have I none at all, for all I have in me Directs me: Your Father's in a pretty rage.

Leu. What? Bach. You'll make all worse too with your facing it. Leuc. What is the matter? Leon. Know'st thou that petition? Look on it well: wouldst thou be joyn'd with me (Unnaturall child to be weary of me) E'r Fate esteem me fit for other worlds. Bac. May be he knows not of it. Leu. Oh strange carriages! Sir, as I have hope that there is any thing To reward doing well, my usages Which have been (but 'tis no matter what) Have put me so far from the thought of Greatness, That I should welcome it like a disease That grew upon me, and I could not cure. They are my enemies that gave you this, And yet they call me friend, and are themselves I fear abus'd. I am weary of my life, For Gods sake take it from me: it creates More mischief in the State than it is worth, The usage I have had, I know would make Wisdom her self run frantick through the streets, And Patience quarrel with her shadow. Sir, this sword— Bac. Alas! help for the love of Heaven, Make way through me first, for he is your Father. Leon. What, would he kill me? Bac. No Sir, no. Leon. Thou always [mak'st] the best on't, but I fear— Leu. Why do you use me thus? who is't can think That I would kill my Father, that can yet Forbear to kill you? Here Sir, is my sword; I dare not touch it, lest she say again I would have kill'd you: let me not have mercy When I most need it, if I would not change Place with my meanest servant. Let these faults Be mended Madam: if you saw how ill They did become you, you would part with them. Bac. I told the Duke as much before. Leu. What? what did you tell him? Bac. That it was only an ambition, Nurst in you by your youth, provok'd you thus, Which age would take away. Leon. It was his doing then? come hither Love. Bac. No indeed, Sir. Leu. How am I made, that I can bear all this? If any one had us'd a friend of mine [nere] this, My hand had carried death about it. Leon. Lead me hence Tellamon: come my dear Bacha, I shall find time for this. Ism. Madam, you know I dare not speak before The King; but you know well, if not, I'll tell [it] you, You are the most wicked'st, and most murderous Strumpet, that ever was call'd Woman. Bac. My Lord, what can I do for him? he shall command me. Leon. I know thou art too kind; away I say. [Exit Leon. Bac. Tima. Telia. Isme. Sir, I am sure we dream, this cannot be. Leu. Oh that we did, my wickedness has brought All this to pass, else I should bear my self.

Leu. But I have found A kind of love in her to me: alas, Think of her death! I dare be sworn for her, She is as free from any hate to me As her bad Mother's full. She was brought up I'th' Countrey, as her tongue will let you know

If you but talk with her, with a poor Uncle, Such as her Mother had.

Ism. Are you so simple, to make so much of this? Do you not know, That all her wicked Mother labours for, is but to raise Her to your right, and leave her this Dukedom? Ura. I, but ne'r Sir be afred; For though she take th' ungain'st weas she can, I'll ne'er ha't fro' you. Leu. I should hate my self Ismenus; If I should think of her simplicity, Ought but extreamly well. Ism. Nay, as you will. Ura. And though she be my Mother, If she take any caurse to do you wrong, If I can see't, youst quickly hear on't Sir: And so I'll take my leave. Leu. Farewel good Sister, I thank you. [Exit Urania. Ism. You believe all this. Leu. Yes.

Ism. A good faith doth well, but methinks It were no hard matter now, for her Mother to send her: Yonder's one you may trust if you will too. Leu. So I will, if he can shew me as apparent signs Of truth as she did; Does he weep Ismenus? Ism. Yes, I think so: some good's happen'd I warrant: Do you hear, you? What honest man has scap'd misery, that [you are] crying thus? Tim. Noble Ismenus, where's the Prince? Ism. Why there! hast wept thine eyes out? Tim. Sir, I beseech you hear me. Leu. Well, speak on. Ism. Why, will you hear him? Leu. Yes Ismenus, why? Ism. I would hear blasphemy as willingly. Leu. You are [to] blame. Tim. No Sir: he is not to blame: If I were as I was. Ism. Nor as thou art, yfaith awhit [to] blame. Leu. What's your business? Tim. Faith Sir, I am ashamed to speak before you, My conscience tells me I have injur'd you, And by the earnest instigation Of others, have not done you to the King Always the best and friendliest offices; Which pardon me, or I will never speak. Ism. Never pardon him and silence a knave. Leu. I pardon thee. Tim. Your Mother sure is naught. Leu. Why shouldst thou think so? Tim. Oh noble, Sir, your honest eyes perceive not The dangers you are led to; shame upon her, And what fell miseries the gods can think on Shower down upon her wicked head, she has plotted I know too well your death: would my poor life Or thousand[s] such as mine is, might be offer'd Like sacrifices up for your preserving, What free oblations would she have to glut her, But she is merciless, and bent to ruin; If heaven and good men step not to your rescue, And timely, very timely: Oh this Dukedom! I weep, I weep for the poor Orphans i'th' Countrey Left with but Friends or Parents. Leu. Now Ismenus, what think you of this fellow? This was a lying knave, a flatterer, Does not this Love still shew him so. Ism. This Love? this Halter: if he prove not yet The cunning'st rankest rogue that ever Canted, I'll never see man again: I know him to bring, And can interpret every new face he makes; Look how he wrings like a good stool for a tear: Take heed, Children and Fools First feel the smart, Then weep. Leu. Away, away, such an unkind distrust, Is worse than a dissembling, if it be one, And sooner leads to mischief, I believe it, And him an honest man: he could not carry Under an evil cause, so true a sorrow. Ism. Take heed, this is your Mothers scorpion, That carries stings even in his tears, Whose soul is a rank poison through: Touch Not at him, if you do, you are gone, if you had twenty Lives: I knew him for a Roguish boy, when He would poison Dogs, and keep tame Toads, He lay with his Mother, and infected her, and now She begs i'th' Hospital, with a patch of Velvet, Where her Nose stood: like the Queen of Spades. And all her teeth in her purse, the Devil and this Fellow are so near, 'Tis not yet known which is the eviler Angel. Leu. Nay, then I see 'tis spite: Come hither friend. Hast thou not heard the cause yet that incens'd my Mother to my death, for I protest I feel none in my self? Tim. Her Will Sir, and Ambition, as I think, Are the provokers of it, as in Women, Those two are ever powerful to destruction, Beside a hate of your still growing virtues, She being only wicked. Leu. Heavens defend me as I am innocent, And ever have been from all immoderate thoughts and Actions, that carry such rewards along w[i]th 'em. Tim. Sir, all I know, my duty must reveal, My Countrey and my Love command it from me, For whom I'll lay my life down: this night coming, A Counsel is appointed by the Duke, To sit about your apprehension: If you dare trust my faith: which by all good things Shall ever watch about you: goe along, And to a place I'll guide you: where no word Shall scape without your hearing, nor no plot Without discovering to you, which once known, you have your answers and prevention.

Ism. Goe, and let your own rod whip you: I pity you. And dog, if he miscarry thou shalt pay for't, I'll study for thy punishment, and it shall last Longer and sharper than a tedious Winter, Till thou blasphem'st, and then thou diest and damn'st. [Exit.

Leon. I wonder the Dutchess comes not. Tel. She has heard, Sir, your Will to speak with her: But there is something leaden at her heart; (Pray God it be not mortal) that even keeps her From conversation with her self.

B. Oh whither will you my cross affections pull me? Fortune, Fate, and you whose powers direct our actions, And dwell within us: you that are Angels Guiding to virtue, wherefore have you given So strong a hand to evil? wherefore suffer'd A Temple of your own, you Deities Where your fair selves dwelt only, and your goodness Thus to be soyl'd with sin? Leon. Heaven bless us all. From whence comes this distemper? speak my fair one. Bac. And have you none, Love and Obedience, You[r] ever faithful Servants to imploy In this strange story of impiety, But me a Mother; Must I be your strumpet? To lay black Treason upon, and in him, In whom all sweetness was: in whom my love Was [proud] to have a Being, in whom Justice, And all the gods for our imaginations Can work into a man, were more than virtues, Ambition down to hell, where thou wert foster'd, Thou hast poison'd the best soul, the purest, whitest, And meerest innocent'st it self that ever Mens greedy hopes gave life to. Leon. This is still stranger: lay this treason Open to my correction. Bac. Oh what a combat duty and affection Breeds in my blood! Leon. If thou conceal'st him, may, Beside my death, the curses of the Countrey, Troubles of conscience, and a wretched end, Bring thee unto a poor forgotten grave. Bach. My Being: for another tongue to tell it, Cease, a Mother! some good man that dares Speak for his King and Countrey: I am full Of too much womans pity: yet oh Heaven, Since it concerns the safety of my Sovereign, Let it not be a cruelty in me, Nor draw a Mothers name in question, Amongst unborn people, to give up that man To Law and Justice, that unrighteously Has sought his Fathers death: be deaf: be deaf Sir, Your Son is the offender: Now have you all, Would I might never speak again. Leon. My Son! Heaven help me. No more! I thought it, and since His life is grown so dangerous: Let them that Gave him, take him: he shall dye, And with him all my fears. Bac. Oh use your mercy: you have a brave subject To bestow it on. I'll forgive him, Sir; and for his Wrong to me, I'll be before ye. Leon. Durst his villany extend to thee? Bac. Nothing but heats of youth, Sir. Leon. Upon my life he sought my bed. Bacha. I must confess he loved me Somewhat beyond a Son: and still pursu'd it With such a Lust, I will not say Ambition: That clean forgetting all obedience, And only following his first heat unto me, He hotly sought your death, and me in Marriage. Leon. Oh Villain! Bac. But I forget all: and am half asham'd To press a man so far.

Tim. Where is the Duke? for Gods sake bring me to him: Leon. Here I am: each corner of the Dukedom Sends new affrights forth: what wouldst thou? speak. Tim. I cannot Sir, my fear ties up my tongue: Leon. Why, what's the matter? Take thy courage To thee, and boldly speak, where are the Guard? In the gods name, out with it: Tim. Treason, treason. Leon. In whom? Bacha. Double the Guard. Tim. There is a fellow, Sir. Leon. Leave shaking man. Timan. 'Tis not for fear, but wonder. Leon. Well. Timan. There is a fellow, Sir, close i'th' Lobby: You o'the Guard, look to the door there. Leon. But let me know the business. Tima. Oh that the hearts of men should be so hard'ned Against so good a Duke, for Gods sake, Sir, Seek means to save your self; This wretched slave Has his sword in his hand, I know his heart: Oh it hath almost kill'd me with the thought of it. Leon. Where is he?

Timan. I'th' Lobby Sir, close in a corner: Look to your selves for Heavens sake, Me thinks he is here already. Fellows of the Guard be valiant. Leon. Goe Sirs, and apprehend him; Treason shall Never dare me in mine own Gates. Tim. 'Tis done. [There they bring the Prince in. Bacha. And thou shalt find it to thy best content. Leon. Are these the comforts of my age? They're happy that end their daies contented With a little, and live aloof from dangers, to a King Every content doth a new peril bring. Oh let me live no longer, shame of Nature, Bastard to Honor: Traytor, Murderer, Devil in a humane shape. Away with him, He shall not breathe his hot [inf]ection here. Leu. Sir, hear me. Leon. Am I or he your Duke? away with him To a close prison: your Highness now shall know, Such branches must be cropt before they grow. Leu. Whatever fortune comes, I bid it welcome, My innocency is my Armor: gods preserve you. [Exit. Bacha. Fare thee well, I shall never see so brave a Gent. Would I could weep out his offences. Tim. Or I could weep out mine eyes. Leon. Come Gentlemen, we'll determine presently About his death: we cannot be too forward in our Safety: I am very sick, lead me unto my bed. [Exeunt.