автордың кітабын онлайн тегін оқу  Beaumont and Fletcher's Works, Vol. 06 of 10

Francis Beaumont

CAMBRIDGE ENGLISH CLASSICS

The Works of Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher In ten volumes Vol. VI

FRANCIS BEAUMONT

Born 1584
Died 1616

JOHN FLETCHER

Born 1579
Died 1625

BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER

THE QUEEN OF CORINTH
BONDUCA
THE KNIGHT OF THE BURNING PESTLE
LOVES PILGRIMAGE
THE DOUBLE MARRIAGE

THE TEXT EDITED BY A. R. WALLER, M.A.

Cambridge:
at the University Press
1908

CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS WAREHOUSE, C. F. CLAY, MANAGER.

London: FETTER LANE, E.C. Edinburgh: 100, PRINCES STREET.

Berlin: A. ASHER AND CO. Leipzig: F. A. BROCKHAUS. New York: G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS. Bombay and Calcutta: MACMILLAN AND CO., LTD.

[All Rights reserved]

CONTENTS

PAGE

The Queen of Corinth

1

Bonduca

79

The Knight of the Burning Pestle

160

Loves Pilgrimage

232

The Double Marriage

321

THE
Queen of Corinth,

A

TRAGI-COMEDY.

The Persons Represented in the Play.

• Agenor, Prince of Argos.
• Theanor, Son to the Qu. of Corinth, a vicious Prince.
• Leonidas, The Corinthian General, Brother to Merione.
• Euphanes, A noble young Gentleman, Favorite to the Qu.
• Crates, Elder brother to Eupha. a malicious beautefeu.
• Conon, Euph[a]nes Confident, and fellow-Traveller.
• Neanthes, Sosicles, Eraton, Courtiers.
• Onos or Lamprias, A very foolish Traveller.
• Tutor and Uncle to Onos, two foolish Knaves.
• Gentlemen Servants to Agenor.
• A Page to Lord Euphanes.
• Marshal,
• Vintner,
• Drawers,

WOMEN.

• Merione, A virtuous Lady, honourably solicited by Prince Agenor.
• Beliza, A noble Lady, Mistriss to Euphanes.
• Queen of Corinth, A wise and virtuous Widow, Mother of Theanor,

The Scene Corinth.

The Principal Actors were

• Richard Burbadge,
• Henry Condel,
• John Underwood,
• Thomas Polard,
• Nathan Feild,
• John Lowin,
• Nich. Toolie,
• Tho. Holcomb.

Actus Primus. Scæna Prima.

Enter Neanthes, Sosicles, Eraton.

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.

Enter Theanor and Crates.

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.

Scæna Secunda.

Enter Leonidas, Merione, Beliza, Servants.

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.

Enter Euphanes.

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.

Enter Crates.

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.

Scæna Tertia.

Enter Neanthes, Sosi[cl]es, and Eraton severally.

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.

Enter Onos, Uncle and Tutor.

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.

Enter Agenor, Leonidas, Theanor, Queen, Merione, Beliza, Euphanes, Crates, Ladies, Attendants with Lights.

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.

Enter Crates, Neanthes, Eraton, Sosicles disguis'd.

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.

Enter Merione and Servant.

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.

[Exeunt.

Actus Secundus. Scæna Prima.

Enter Merione (as newly ravished.)

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.

Enter Theanor, Crates, with vizards.

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?

Enter the rest disguis'd.

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:

Enter six disguis'd, singing and dancing to a horrid Musick, and sprinkling water on her face.

Wrong me no more as ye are men.

The. She is fast.

Cra. Away with her. [Exeunt.

Scæna Secunda.

Enter Agenor, and Gentlemen.

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.

Scæna Tertia.

Enter Theanor, Crates, and Erat[on], bringing Merione.

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.

Enter Agenor, and Leonid[a]s, with two Gent.

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?

Enter Queen, Theanor, Beliza, Euphanes, Neanthes, Attendants.

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.

Scæna Quarta.

Enter Crates and Conon.

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.

Enter Vintner and Drawer.

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?

Enter Drawer.

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—

Enter Vintner with Wine.

(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.

Enter 1 Boy.

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.

Enter Euphanes and two Gentlemen.

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.

Enter the 2. Boy.

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.

Enter Onos, his Unkle and Tutor.

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.

Actus Tertius. Scæna Prima.

Enter Theanor and Crates.

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.

Enter Onos, Uncle, Tutor, Neanthes, Sosicles, Eraton.

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.

Nea. He looks as like a fellow that I have seen accommodate Gentlemen with Tobacco in our Theaters.

Onos. Most illustrious Prince.

Era. A pox on him, he is guelt, how he trebles!

Onos. I am a Gentleman a both sides.

Tut. He means (so't please your highness) both by Father and Mother.

Sos. Thou a Gentleman? thou an Ass.

Nea. He is nere the farther from being a Gent. I assure you.

Tut. May it please your Grace, I am another,

Nea. He is another Ass he says, I believe him.

Uncle. We be three, Heroicall Prince.

Nea. Nay then we must have the Picture of 'em, and the Word nos sumus.

Tut. That have travell'd all parts of the Globe together.

Unc. For my part, I have seen the vicissitude of fortune before.

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!

Tut. Our Peregrination was nere so facilitated, as since we enter'd the line of your gracious favor, under whose beamy aspect, and by which infallible Mathematical compass, may we but hereafter presume to sail, our industries have reach't their desir'd termination and period; and we shall voluntarily sacrifice our lives to your resplendent eyes, both the Altars and fires of our devoted offerings.

Onos. Oh divine Tutor!

Cra. Can you hold Sir?

Era. He has spoken this very speech to some Whore in Corinth.

Nea. A plague on him for a fustian Dictionary; on my conscience this is the Ulissean Traveller that sent home his Image riding upon Elephants to the great Mogoll.

Sos. The same: his wit is so huge, nought but an Elephant could carry him.

Era. So heavy you mean.

Nea. These three, are ev'n the fin'st one fool tripartite, that was ere discovered.

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.

Tut. I Sir, and't be seven mile off, so we may but follow you, only to countenance us in the confronts and affronts, which (according to your Highness will) we mean on all occasions to put upon the Lord Euphanes.

Onos. He shall not want gibing nor jeering, I warrant him, if he do, I'l forswear wit.

Nea. It has forsworn thee, I'l swear, it is the ancient enemy to thy house.

The. Well, be it so; I here receive ye; for my followers a great way off.

Nea. Seven miles, my Lord, no further.

Onos. By what time, Sir, (by this measure) may I come to follow him in his Chamber?

Nea. Why when his Chamber, Sir, is seven miles long.

Enter Euphanes, Conon, Page, Gent. Attendants.

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.

Enter Queen and Ladies.

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,

Enter Theanor.

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?

Enter 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.

Scæna Secunda.

Enter Agenor, Leonidas, Merione, Beliza.
A sad Song.

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.

A lighter Song.

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.

Enter Euphanes and Servant.

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.

Enter Agenor, Leonidas, Merione.

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.

Actus Quartus. Scæna Prima.

Enter Crates, Uncle, Tutor, and Onos.

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?

Enter Neanthes and Page.

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.

[Exit Crates and Neant.

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.

Scæna Secunda.

Enter Queen, Euphanes, Conon, Lords.

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.

Scæna Tertia.

Enter Theanor, Agenor, Leonidas above.

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.

Enter Euphanes and Conon.

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.

Enter below Theanor, Agenor, Leonidas, and Soldiers.

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.

Enter Conon.

Co. How's this? unarm'd left, now found doubly arm'd? A[n]d those that would have slain him at his feet? Oh Truth, thou art a mighty Conqueress: The Queen (my Lord) perplex'd in care of you, That, cross to her command, hazard your self In person, here is come into the Field, And like a Leader, marches in the head Of all her Troops, vows that she will demolish Each stone of this proud Tower be you not safe: She chafes like storms in Groves, now sighs, now weeps, And both sometimes, like Rain and Wind commixt, Abjures her Son for ever, less himself Do fetch you off in person, that did give Your self to save him of your own free will, And swears he must not, nor is [f]it to live.

Euph. Oh she's a Mistriss for the gods.

Ag. And thou a godlike servant fit for her.

Leo. Wide Greece May boast, because she cannot boast thy like.

Euph. Thus Conon tell her Highness.

Co. My joy flies.

Eup. Let's toward her march: stern Drum speak gentle peace.

Leo. We are prisoners, lead us, ne'r was known A president like this: one unarm'd man (Suspected) to captive with golden words (Truth being his shield) so many arm'd with swords. [Ex.

Enter (at one door) Queen, Theanor, Crates, Conon, Lords, Soldiers, (at another) Euphanes (with two swords) Agenor, Leonidas, Soldiers: Euphanes presents Leonidas on his knees to the Queen: Agenor bare-headed, makes shew of sorrow to the Queen, she stamps, and seems to be angry at the first. Euphanes perswades her, [layes] their swords at her feet, she [kisses him,] gives them their swords again, they kiss her hand and embrace, the Soldiers lift up Euphanes, and shout: Theanor and Crates discovered, Conon whispers with Crates, Euphanes with Agenor, and Leonidas observes it, who seem to promise something, Euphanes directs his Page somewhat.

[Exeunt all but Theanor and Crates.

The. We are not lucky Crates, this great torrent Bears all before him.

Cra. Such an age as this Shall ne'r be seen again: virtue grows fat, And villany pines; the Furies are asleep, Mischief 'gainst goodness aim'd, is like a stone, Unnaturally forc'd up an eminent hill Whose weight falls on our heads and buries us, We springe our selves, we sink in our own bogs.

The. What's to be done?

Cra. Repent and grow good.

The. Pish, 'Tis not the fashion (fool) till we grow old: The peoples love to him now scares me more Than my fond Mothers: both which, like two floods Bearing Euphanes up; will o'rflow me, And he is worthy, would he were in Heaven, But that hereafter: Crates help me now, And henceforth be at ease.

Cra. Your Will my Lord?

The. Beliza is to marry him forthwith, I long to have the first touch of her too, That will a little quiet me.

Cra. Fie Sir, You'll be the Tyrant to Virginity; To fall but once is manly, to persevere Beastly, and desperate.

The. Cross me not, but do't: Are not the means, the place, the instruments The very same? I must expect you suddenly. [Exit.

Cra. I must obey you. Who is in evil once a companion Can hardly shake him off, but must run on. Here I appointed Conon to attend Him, and his sword: he promis'd to come single.

Enter Conon and Page.

To avoid prevention: he is a man on's word.

Co. You are well met Crates.

Cra. If we part so Conon.

Co. Come, we must do these mutual offices, We must be our own Seconds, our own Surgeons, And fairly fight, like men, not on advantage.

Cra. You have an honest bosom.

Co. Yours seems so.

Cra. Let's pair our swords: you are a just Gentleman.

Co. You might be so: now shake hands if you please, Though't be the cudgel fashion, 'tis a friendly one.

Cra. So, stand off.

Page. That's my cue to beckon 'em. [Exit.

Co. Crates, to expostulate your wrongs to me Were to doubt of 'em, or wish your excuse In words, and so return like maiden Knights: Yet freely thus much I profess, your spleen And rugged carriage toward your honour'd Brother Hath much more stirred me up, than min[e] own cause, For I did ne'r affect these bloody men, But hold 'em fitter be made publick Hangmen: Or Butchers call'd, than valiant Gentlemen: 'Tis true stamp'd valour does upon just grounds, Yet for whom justlier should I expose my life Than him, unto whose virtue I owe all.

Cra. Conon, you think by this great deed of yours To insinuate your self a lodging nearer Unto my Brothers heart: such men as you Live on their undertakings for their Lords, And more disable them by answering for 'em Than if they sate still, make 'em but their whores, For which end Gallants now adays do fight: But here we come not to upbraid; what men Seem, the rash world will judge; but what they are Heaven knows: and this—Horses, we are descry'd, One stroke for fear of laughter.

Enter Euphanes, Agenor, Leonidas, Page.

Co. Half a score.

Euph. Hold, hold: on your allegiance hold.

Ag. He that strikes next—

Leo. Falls like a Traitor on our swords.

Euph. Oh Heaven, my Brother bleeds: Conon, thou art A villain, an unthankful man, and shalt Pay me thy bloud for his, for his is mine: Thou wert my friend, but he is still my Brother; And though a friend sometimes be nearer said In some gradation it can never be Where that same Brother can be made a friend, Which dearest Crates thus low I implore; What in my poverty I would not seek, Because I would not burthen you, now here In all my height of bliss I beg of you, Your friendship; my advancement, Sir, is yours; I never held it strange, pray use it so: We are but two, which Number Nature fram'd In the most useful faculties of man, To strengthen mutually and relieve each other: Two eyes, two ears, two arms, two legs and feet, That where one faild, the other might supply; And I, your other eye, ear, your arm and leg, Tender my service, help and succor to ye.

Ag. Leo. A most divine example.

Euph. For dear Brother, You have been blind, and lame, and deaf to me, Now be no more so: in humility I give ye the duty of a younger Brother, Which take you as a Brother, not a Father, And then you'll pay a duty back to me.

Cra. Till now I have not wept these thirty years.

Euph. Discording Brothers, are like mutual legs Supplanting one another: he that seeks Aid from a stranger and forsakes his Brother, Does but like him that madly lops his arm, And to his body joyns a wooden one: Cuts off his natural leg, and trusts a Crutch, Plucks out his eye to see with Spectacles.

Cra. Most dear Euphanes, in this crimson floud Wash my unkindness out: you have o'rcome me, Taught me humanity and brotherhood; Full well knew Nature thou wert fitter far To be a Ruler o'r me than a Brother, Which henceforth be: Jove surely did descend When thou wert gotten in some heavenly shape And greet my Mother, as the poets tell Of other Women.

Ag. Be this Holy-day.

Leo. And noted ever with the whitest stone.

Co. And pardon me my Lord, look you, I bleed Faster than Crates; what I have done I did To reconcile your loves, to both a friend, Which my blood ciment, never to part or end.

Ag. Most worthy Conon.

Leo. Happy rise, this day Contracts more good than a whole age hath done.

Euph. Royal Agenor, brave Leonidas, You are main causes, and must share the fame.

Cra. Which in some part this hour shall requite For I have aim'd my black shafts at white marks, And now I'll put the clew into your hands Shall guide ye most perspicuously to the depth Of this dark Labyrinth, where so long ye were lost Touching this old Rape, and a new intent. Wherein your counsel, and your active wit My dearest Brother will be necessary.

Euph. My Prophesie is come, prove my hopes true Agenor shall have right, and you no wrong, Time now will pluck her daughter from her Cave: Let's hence to prevent rumour; my dear Brother, Nature's divided streams the highest shelf Will over-run at last, and flow to it self. [Exeunt.

Actus Quintus. Scæna Prima.

Enter Crates, Euphanes, Neanthes, Sosicles, Eraton.

Euph. I Have won the Lady to it, and that good Which is intended to her, your faith only And secresie must make perfect; Think not Sir, I speak as doubting it, for I dare hazard My soul upon the tryal.

Cra. You may safely, But are Agenor, and Leonidas ready To rush upon him in the Act, and seize him In the height of his security?

Euph. At all parts as you could wish them.

Cra. Where's the Lady?

Euph. There Where you appointed her to stay.

Cra. 'Tis wisely order'd.

Euph. Last, when you have him sure, compel him this way, For as by accident here I'll bring the Queen To meet you, 'twill strike greater terror to him, To be tane unprovided of excuse, And make more for our purposes. [Exit.

Cra. Come Neanthes, our Fames and all are at the stake.

Nea. 'Tis fit that since relying on your skill, we venture So much upon one game, you play with cunning.

Enter Theanor.

Or we shall rise such losers as—

Sos. The Prince.

Cra. The plot is laid Sir, howsoe'r I seem'd A little scrupulous, upon better judgement I have effected it.

The. 'Tis the last service Of this foul kind I will employ you in.

Cra. We hope so Sir.

The. And I will so reward it—

Nea. You are bound to that; in every Family That does write lustful, your fine Bawd gains more (For like your Broker, he takes fees on both sides) Than all the Officers of the house.

Sos. For us then To be a great mans Panders, and live poor, That were a double fault.

Cra. Come, you lose time Sir, We will be with you instantly: the deed done, We have a Mask that you expect not.

The. Thou art ever careful: for Joves Mercury I would not change thee. [Exit.

Era. There's an honour for you.

Nea. To be compar'd with the celestial Pimp, Joves smock-sworn Squire, Don Hermes.

Cra. I'll deserve it, And Gentlemen be assur'd, though what we do now Will to the Prince Theanor look like Treason And base disloyalty, yet the end shall prove, When he's first taught to know himself, then you, In what he judg'd us false, we were most true. [Exeunt.

Scæna Secunda.

Enter Euphanes, Agenor, Leonidas, Conon.

Euph. Only make haste (my Lords) in all things else You are instructed: you may draw your swords For shew if you think good, but on my life You will find no resistance in his servants, And he's himself unarm'd.

Ag. I would he were not, My just rage should not then be lost.

Euph. Good Sir, Have you a care no injury be done Unto the person of the Prince: but Conon, Have you an eye on both, it is your trust that I relye on.

Co. Which I will discharge, assure your self most faithfully.

Euph. For the Lady, I know your best respect will not be wanting: Then to avoid suspition and discovery, I hold it requisite, that as soon as ever The Queen hath seen her, she forsake the place, And fit her self for that which is projected For her good, and your honour.

Leo. If this prosper, Believe it you have made a purchase of My service and my life.

Euph. Your love I aim at.

Leo. Here I shall find you?

Euph. With the Queen.

Co. Enough Sir.

Enter Page.

Page. The Queen enquires for you my Lord, I have met A dozen Messengers in search of you.

Enter Queen, Ladies, Attendants.

Euph. I knew I should be sought for, as I wish'd She's come her self in person.

Qu. Are you found Sir? I wonder where you spend your hours, methinks Since I so love your company, and profess 'Tis the best comfort this life yields me; mine Should not be tedious to you.

Euph. Gracious Madam, To have the happiness to see and hear you, Which by your bounty is conferr'd upon me, I hold so great a blessing, that my honours And wealth compar'd to that, are but as Cyphers To make that number greater: yet your pardon For borrowing from my duty so much time As the provision for my sudden Marriage Exacted from me.

Qu. I perceive this Marriage Will keep you often from me: but I'll bear it. She's a good Lady, and a fair, Euphanes, Yet by her leave I will share with her in you: I am pleas'd that in the night she shall enjoy you And that's sufficient for a Wife: the day-time I will divorce you from her.

Leo. within. We will force you if you resist.

Qu. What noise is that?

The. within. Base Traytors.

Euph. It moves this way.

Enter Agenor, Leonidas with Theanor, [M]erione like Beliza, Conon, Crates, Neanthes, Sosicles, Eraton, Guard.

Qu. What e'r it be I'll meet it, I was not born to fear: Who's that Beliza?

Euph. My worthiest, noblest Mistriss. [Exit.

Qu. Stay her, ha? All of you look as you were rooted here, And wanted motion: what new Gorgons head Have you beheld, that you are all turn'd Statues? This is prodigious: has none a tongue To speak the cause?

Leo. Could every hair, great Queen Upon my head yield an articulate sound, And altogether speak, they could not yet Express the villany we have discoverd, And yet, when with a few unwilling words I have deliver'd what must needs be known, You'll say I am too eloquent, and wish I had been born without a tongue.

Qu. Speak boldly, For I, unmov'd with any loss, will hear.

Leo. Then know, we have found out the Ravisher Of my poor Sister, and the place, and means By which th' unfortunate, though fair Beliza Hath met a second violence.

Euph. This confirms what but before I doubted to my ruine. My Lady ravish'd.

Qu. Point me out the villain; That guilty wretched monster that hath done this, [T]hat I may look on him, and in mine eye He [read] his Sentence.

Leo. That I truly could Name any other but the Prince, that heard, You have it all.

Qu. Wonder not that I shake, The miracle is greater that I live, Having endur'd the thunder that thy words Have thrown upon me: dar'st thou kneel, with hope Of any favor, but a speedy death, And that too in the dreadful'st shape that can Appear to a dispair[i]ng leprous soul, If thou hast any? no, libidinous beast, Thy lust hath alter'd so thy former Being, By Heaven I know thee not.

The. Although unworthy Yet still I am your Son.

Qu. Thou lyest, lyest falsly, My whole life never knew but one chaste bed, Nor e'r desir'd warmth but from lawful fires, Can I be then the Mother to a Goat, Whose lust is more insatiate than the grave, And like infectious air ingenders plagues, To murder all that's chaste, or good in Woman? The gods I from my youth have serv'd and fear'd, Whose holy Temples thou hast made thy Brothels; Could a Religious Mother then bring forth So damn'd an Atheist? read but o'r my life, My actions, manners, and made perfect in them But look into the story of thy self As thou art now, not as thou wert Theanor, And reason will compel thee to confess, Thou art a stranger to me.

Ag. Note but how heavy The weight of guilt is: it so low hath sunk him That he wants power to rise up in defence Of [his] bad cause.

Qu. Perswade me not Euphanes, This is no Prince, nor can claim part in me: My Son was born a Free-man, this a Slave To beastly passions, a Fugitive, And run away from virtue: bring bonds for him. By all the honour that I owe to Justice He loses me for ever that seeks to save him: Bind him I say, and 'ts like a wretch that knows He stands condemn'd before he hears the Sentence, With his base Agents, from my sight remove him, And lodge them in the Dungeon: As a Queen And Patroness to Justice I command it: Thy tears are like unseasonable showrs, And in my heart now steel'd can make no entrance: Thou art cruel to thy self (Fool) 'tis not want In me of soft compassion; when thou left'st To be a Son, I ceas'd to be a Mother; Away with them: The children I will leave To keep my name, to all posterities, Shall be the great examples of my Justice, The government of my Countrey which shall witness How well I rul'd my self: bid the wrong'd Ladies Appear in Court to morrow, we will hear them; And by one Act of our severity For fear of punishment, or love to virtue, Teach others to be honest: all will shun To tempt her Laws, that would not spare her Son. [Ex.

Scæna Tertia.

Enter Onos, Uncle, and Tutor.

Unc. Nay Nephew.

Tut. Pupill, hear but reason.

On. No, I have none, and will hear none; oh my honor My honor blasted in the bud, my youth, My hopeful youth, and all my expectation Ever to be a man, are lost for ever.

Unc. Why Nephew, we as well as you are dub'd Knights of the Pantofle.

Tut. And are shouted at, Kick'd, scorn'd, and laugh'd at by each Page and Groom, Yet with erected heads we bear it.

Onos. Alas, You have years, and strength to do it; but were you (As I) a tender gristle, apt to bow, You would like me, with Cloaks envelloped, Walk thus, then stamp, then stare.

Unc. He will run mad I hope, and then all's mine.

Tut. Why look you Pupil, There are for the recovery of your honor Degrees of Medicines; for a tweak by the Nose A man's to travel but six months, then blow it And all is well again: the Bastinado Requires a longer time, a year or two, And then 'tis buried: I grant you have been baffl'd, 'Tis but a journey of some thirty years And it will be forgotten.

Onos. Think you so?

Tut. Assuredly.

Unc. He may make a shorter cut, But hang or drown himself, and on my life 'Twill no more trouble him.

Onos. I could ne'r endure Or Hemp or Water, they are dangerous tools For youth to deal with: I will rather follow My Tutors counsel.

Tut. Do so.

Onos. And put in For my security, that I'll not return In thirty years, my whole 'state to my Uncle.

Unc. That I like well of.

On. Still provided Uncle, That at my coming home you will allow me To be of age, that I may call to account This Page that hath abus'd me.

U[n]c. 'Tis a match.

On. Then Corinth, thus the bashful Lamprias Takes leave of thee: and for this little time Of thirty years, will labour all he can, Though he goes young forth, to come home a man. [Ex.

Scæna Quarta.

Enter Euphanes and Marshal.

Euph. Are your Prisoners ready?

Mar. When it shall please the Queen To call them forth my Lord.

Euph. Pray you do me the favour To tell me how they have born themselves this night Of their imprisonment?

Mar. Gladly Sir; your Brother With the other Courtiers willingly receiv'd All courtesies I could offer; eat, and drank, And were exceeding merry, so dissembling Their guilt, or confident in their innocence, That I much wondred at it. But the Prince, That (as born highest) should have grac'd his fall With greatest courage, is so sunk with sorrow, That to a common judgement he would seem To suffer like a Woman: but to me, That from the experience I have had of many Look further in him, I do find the deep Consideration of what's past, more frights him Than any other punishment.

Euph. That is indeed True magnanimity: the other but A desperate bastard valour.

Mar. I pressed to him, And notwithstanding the Queens strict command, (Having your Lordships promise to secure me) Offer'd to free him from his bonds, which he Refus'd, with such a sorrow, mixt with scorn That it amaz'd me; yet I urg'd his Highness To give one Reason for't: he briefly answer'd, That he had sate in judgement on himself, And found that he deserv'd them: that he was A Ravisher, and so to suffer like one, Which is the reason of my tears: he addeth, For wer't not I again should break the Laws, By scorning all their rigor can inflict, I should dye smiling.

Euph. I forbear to wonder That you were mov'd that saw this: I am struck With the relation so. 'Tis very well; See all things ready. I do wish I could Send comfort to the Prince; be ready with him; 'Tis in the Queens breast only which for us [Bar brought in. To search into were sauciness, to determine What she thinks fit.

Enter Leonidas with Merione (in white) Euphanes with Beliza (in black) Queen, Agenor, Conon, Marshal, with Thea[n]or, Crates, Sosicles, Eraton, Lords, Ladies, Guard.

Lord. Make way there for the Queen.

Quee. Read first the Law, and what our Ancestors Have in this case provided to deter Such like offenders: To you gentle Ladies This only, Would I could as well give comfort, As bid [you] be secure from fear or doubt Of our displeasure: be as confident As if your plea were 'gainst a common man, To have all right from us; I will not grieve For what's not worth my pitty: Read the Law.

Clerk reads.

Lycurgus the nineteenth against Rapes: It is provided: and pu[b]lickly enacted and confirmed, That any man of what degree soever, offering violence to the chastity of a Virgin, shall (Ipso facto) be lyable to her accusation, and according to the said Law be censured; Ever provided, that it shall [b]e in the choice of the said Virgin so abused, either to compell the Offender to marry her without a Dowry, if so she will be satisfied, or demanding his head for the offence, to have that accordingly performed.

Qu. You hear this: what do you demand?

Mer. The benefit The Law allows me.

Bel. For the injury Done to mine Honor, I require his head.

Mer. I likewise have an eye upon mine Honor, But knowing that his death cannot restore it I ask him for my Husband.

Bel. I was ravish'd, And will have justice.

Mer. I was ravish'd too, I kneel for mercy.

Bel. I demand but what The Law allows me.

Mer. That which I desire Is by the same Law warranted.

Bel. The Rape On me hath made a forfeit of his life, Which in revenge of my disgrace I plead for.

Mer. The Rape on me gives me the priviledge To be his Wife, and that is all I sue for.

Age. A doubtful case.

Leo. Such pretty Lawyers, yet I never saw nor read of.

Euph. May the Queen Favour your sweet plea, Madam.

Bel. Is that justice? Shall one that is to suffer for a Rape Be by a Rape defended? Look upon The publick enemy of chastity, This lustful Satyr, whose enrag'd desires The ruine of one wretched Virgins honor Would not suffice; and shall the wrack of two Be his protection? May be I was ravish'd For his lust only, thou for his defence; O fine evasion! shall with such a slight Your Justice be deluded? your Laws cheated? And he that for one fact deserv'd to die, For sinning often, find impunity? But that I know thee I would swear thou wert A false Impostor, and suborn'd to this; And it may be thou art Merione: For hadst thou suffer'd truly what I have done, Thou wouldst like me complain, and call for vengeance, And our wrongs being equal, I alone Should not desire revenge: But be it so, If thou prevail, even he will punish it, And foolish mercy shew'd to him undo thee, Consider, fool, before it be too late, What joys thou canst expect from such a Husband, To whom thy first, and what's more, forc'd embraces, Which men say heighten pleasure, were distastful.

Mer. 'Twas in respect, that then they were unlawful, Unbless'd by Hymen, and left stings behind them, Which from the marriage-bed are ever banish'd. Let this Court be then the image of Joves throne, Upon which grace and mercy still attend, To intercede between him and his Justice; And since the Law allows as much to me As she can challenge, let the milder sentence, Which best becomes a Mother, and a Queen Now overcome; nor let your wisdom suffer In doing right to her, I in my wrong Indure a second Ravishment.

Bel. You can free him Only from that which does concern your self, Not from the punishment that's due to me: Your injuries you may forgive, not mine; I plead mine own just wreak, which will right both, Where that which you desire robs me of justice; 'Tis that which I appeal to.

Mer. Bloody Woman, Dost thou desire his punishment? Let him live then; For any man to marry where he likes not Is still a lingring torment.

Bel. For one Rape One death's sufficient, that way cannot catch me.

Mer. To you I fly then, to your mercy Madam, Exempting not your Justice, be but equal; And since in no regard I come behind her, Let me not so be undervalu'd in Your Highness favor, that the world take notice You so preferr'd her, that in her behalf You kill'd that Son, you would not save for me; Mercy, O mercy Madam.

Bel. Great Queen, justice.

Age. With what a Masculine constancy the grave Lady hath heard them both!

Leo. Yet how unmov'd she sits In that which most concerns her!

Con. Now she rises; And having well weigh'd both their arguments, Resolves to speak.

Euph. And yet again she pauses; O Conon, such a resolution once A Roman told me he had seen in Cato Before he kill'd himself.

Qu. 'Tis now determin'd. Merione, I could wish I were no Queen, To give you satisfaction; no Mother Beliza, to content you; and would part, Even with my being, both might have their wishes; But since that is impossible, in few words I will deliver what I am resolved on: The end for which all profitable Laws Were made, looks two ways only, the reward Of innocent good men, and the punishment Of bad Delinquents: Ours, concerning Rapes, Provided that same latter [clause] of Marriage For him that had fall'n once, not then foreseeing Mankind could prove so monstrous, to tread twice A path so horrid. The great Law-giver Draco, That for his strange severity Was said to write his stern Decrees in blood, Made none for Parricides, presuming that No man could be so wicked; Such might be Lycurgus answer (did he live) for this. But since I find that in my [Sonne], which was not Doubted in any else, I will add to it; He cannot marry both, but for both dying, Both have their full revenge: You see Beliza You have your wish; with you Merione I'll spend a tear or two, so Heaven forgive thee.

The. Upon my knees I do approve your judgement, And beg that you would put it into act With all speed possible; only that I may, Having already made peace with my self, Part so with all the world: Princely Agenor I ask your pardon; yours my Lord Euphanes; And Crates with the rest too, I forgive you; Do you the like for me: Yours, gracio[u]s Mother, I dare not ask, and yet if that my death Be like a Son of yours, though my life was not, Perhaps you may vouchsafe it: Lastly, that Both these whom I have wrong'd, may wish my ashes No heavy burden, e'r I suffer death, For the restoring of Meriones honor, Let me be married to her, and then dye For you Beliza.

Qu. Thou hast made in this Part of amends to me, and to the world, Thy suit is granted, call a Flamyn forth To do this holy work; with him a Headsman.

Enter Flamyn and Executioner.

Raise up thy weeping eyes Merione, With this hand I confirm thy Marriage, Wishing that now the gods would shew some miracle, That this might not divorce it.

Cra. To that purpose I am their Minister, stand not amaz'd, To all your comforts I will do this wonder, Your Majesty (with your pardon I must speak it) Allow'd once heretofore of such a Contract, Which you repenting afterwards, revok'd it, Being fully bent to match her with Agenor, The griev'd Prince knowing this, and yet not daring To cross what you determin'd, by an oath Bound me and these his followers to do something That he might once enjoy her, we swore to it, And easily perswaded, being assur'd She was his Wife before the face of Heaven, Although some ceremonious forms were wanting, Committed the first Rape, and brought her to him, Which broke the Marriage; but when we perceiv'd He purpos'd to abuse our ready service In the same kind: upon the chaste Beliza, Holding our selves less ty'd to him than goodness; I made discovery of it to my Brother, Who can relate the rest.

Euph. It is most true.

Qu. I would it were:

Euph. In every circumstance It is upon my soul: For this known to me, I wan Merione in my Ladies habit, To be again (but willingly) surpriz'd, But with Agenor, and her noble Brother, With my approv'd friend Conon, with such speed She was pursu'd, that the lewd act scarce ended, The Prince (assur'd he had enjoy'd Beliza, For all the time Meriones face was cover'd) Was apprehended and brought to your presence, But not till now discover'd, in respect I hop'd the imminent danger of the Prince, To which his loose unquenched heats had brought him, Being pursu'd unto the latest tryal Would work in him compunction, which it has done; And these two Ladies in their feign'd contentions, To your delight I hope have serv'd as Maskers To their own Nuptials.

Qu. My choice was worthy When first I look'd on thee, as thou hast order'd All shall be done, and not the meanest that Plaid in this unexpected Comedy, But shall pertake our bounty: And my Lord, That with the rest you may seem satisfi'd, If you dare venture on a Queen, not yet So far in debt to years, but that she may Bring you a lusty Boy, I offer up My self and Kingdom, during my life to you.

Ag. It is a blessing which I durst not hope for, But with all joy receive.

All. We all applaud it.

Qu. Then on unto the Temple, where the rights Of Marriage ended, we'll find new delights. [Exeunt.

Here endeth the Queen of Corinth.

BONDUCA,

A

TRAGEDY.

The Persons Represented in the Play.

• Caratach, General of the Britains, Cosin to Bonduca.
• Nenius, A great Soldier, a Britain Commander.
• Hengo, A brave boy, Nephew to Caratach.
• Suetonius, General to the Roman Army in Britain.
• Penius, A brave Roman Commander, but stubborn to the General.
• Junius, A Roman Captain, in love with Bonduca's Daughter.
• Petilus, A merry Captain, but somewhat wanton.
• Demetrius, Decius, Two Roman Commanders.
• Regulus, Drusus, Macer, Curius, Four Roman Officers.
• Judas, A Corporal, a merry hungry knave.
• Herald.
• Druides.
• Soldiers.

WOMEN.

• Bonduca, Queen of the Iceni, a brave Virago, by Prosutagus.
• Her two Daughters.

The Scene Britain.

The Principal Actors were

• Richard Burbadge,
• Henry Condel,
• William Eglestone,
• Nich. Toolie,
• William Ostler,
• John Lowin,
• John Underwood,
• Richard Robinson.

Actus Primus. Scæna Prima.

Enter Bonduca, Daughters, Hengo, Nennius, Soldiers.

Bon. The hardy Romans? O ye gods of Britain, The rust of Arms, the blushing shame of soldiers; Are these the men that conquer by inheritance! The Fortune-makers? these the Julians.

Enter Caratach.

That with the Sun measure the end of Nature, Making the World but one Rome and one Cæsar? Shame, how they flee! Cæsars soft soul dwells in 'em; Their Mothers got 'em sleeping, Pleasure nurst 'em, Their Bodies sweat with sweet Oils, Loves allurements, Not lustie Arms. Dare they send these to seek us, These Roman Girls? Is Britain grown so wanton? Twice we have beat 'em, Nennius scatter'd 'em, And through their big-bon'd Germans, on whose Pikes The honour of their actions sit in triumph, Made Themes for Songs to shame 'em, and a Woman, A Woman beat 'em, Nennius; a weak Woman, A Woman beat these Romans.

Car. So it seems. A man would shame to talk so.

Bon. Who's that?

Car. I.

Bon. Cosin, do you grieve at my fortunes?

Car. No, Bonduca, If I grieve, 'tis at the bearing of your fortunes; You put too much wind to your sail: Discretion And hardy valour are the twins of honour, And nurs'd together, make a Conqueror: Divided, but a talker. 'Tis a truth. That Rome has fled before us twice, and routed; A truth we ought to crown the gods for, Lady, And not our tongues. A truth is none of ours, Nor in our ends, more than the noble bearing: For then it leaves to be a virtue, Lady; And we that have been Victors, beat our selves, When we insult upon our honors subject.

Bon. My valiant Cosin, is it foul to say What liberty and honor bid us do, And what the gods allow us?

Car. No, Bonduca, So what we say exceed not what we do. Ye call the Romans fearful, fleeing Romans, And Roman Girls, the lees of tainted pleasures: Does this become a doer? are they such?

Bon. They are no more.

Car. Where is your Conquest then? Why are your Altars crown'd with wreaths of flowers, The beasts with gilt horns waiting for the fire? The holy Druides composing Songs Of everlasting life to Victory? Why are these triumphs, Lady? for a May-game? For hunting a poor herd of wretched Romans? Is it no more? shut up your Temples, Britains, And let the Husbandman redeem his heifers; Put out our holy fires; no Timbrel ring; Let's home, and sleep; for such great overthrows; A Candle burns too bright a sacrifice, A Glow-worms tail too full of flame. O Nennius, Thou hadst a noble Uncle knew a Roman, And how to speak him, how to give him weight In both his fortunes.

Bon. By —— I think Ye doat upon these Romans, Caratach.

Car. Witness these wounds, I do; they were fairly given, I love an enemy, I was born a Soldier; And he that in the head on's Troop defies me, Bending my manly Body with his sword, I make a Mistriss. Yellow-tressed Hymen Ne'r ty'd a longing Virgin with more joy, Than I am married to that man that wounds me: And are not all these Romans? Ten struck Battels I suck'd these honour'd scars from, and all Roman: Ten years of bitter nights and heavy marches, When many a frozen storm sung thorow my Curasse, And made it doubtful whether that or I Were the more stubborn metall, have I wrought thorow, And all to try these Romans. Ten times a night I have swom the Rivers, when the Stars of Rome Shot at me as I floated, and the billows Tumbled their watry ruines on my shoulders, Charging my batter'd sides with troops of Agues; And still to try these Romans, whom I found (And if I lye, my wounds be henceforth backward, And be you witness, gods, and all my dangers) As ready, and as full of that I brought (Which was not fear nor flight) as valiant, As vigilant, as wise, to do and suffer, Ever advanced as forward as the Britains, Their sleeps as short, their hopes as high as ours. I, and as subtil, Lady. 'Tis dishonour, And follow'd, will be impudence, Bonduca, And grow to no belief, to taint these Romans. Have not I seen the Britains—

Bond. What?

Car. Disheartned, Run, run, Bonduca, not the quick rack swifter; The Virgin from the hated Ravisher Not half so fearful; not a flight drawn home. A round stone from a sling, a Lovers wish E'r made that haste that they have. By —— I have seen these Britains, that you magnifie, Run as they would have out-run time and roaring Basely for mercy, roaring: the light shadows, That in a thought scur o'r the fields of Corn, Halted on crutches to 'em.

Bon. O ye Powers, What scandals do I suffer!

Car. Yes, Bonduca, I have seen thee run too, and thee, Nennius; Yea, run apace, both; then when Penyus The Roman Girl, cut thorow your armed Carts, And drive 'em headlong on ye down the hill: Then when he hunted ye like Britain-Foxes, More by the scent than sight: then did I see These valiant and approved men of Britain, Like boading Owls, creep into tods of Ivie, And hoot their fears to one another nightly.

Nen. And what did you then, Caratach?

Car. I fled too, But not [so] fast; your Jewel had been lost then, Young Hengo there; he trasht me, Nennius: For when your fears out-run him, then stept I, And in the head of all the Romans fury Took him, and, with my tough Belt, to my back I buckled him: behind him, my sure Shield; And then I follow'd. If I say I fought Five times in bringing off this bud of Britain, I lye not, Nennius. Neither had ye heard Me speak this, or ever seen the child more, But that the Son of Virtue, Penyus Seeing me steer thorow all these storms of danger, My Helm still in my hand, my Sword my prow, Turn'd to my foe my face, he cry'd out nobly, Go Britain, bear thy Lions whelp off safely; Thy manly sword has ransom'd thee: grow strong, And let me meet thee once again in Arms; Then if thou stand'st, thou art mine. I took his offer, And here I am to honour him.

Bon. O Cousin, From what a flight of honour hast thou checkt me! What wouldst thou make me, Caratach?

Car. See, Lady, The noble use of others in our losses: Does this afflict ye? Had the Romans cry'd this, And as we have done theirs, sung out these fortunes, Rail'd on our base condition, hooted at us, Made marks as far as the earth was ours, to shew us Nothing but sea could stop our flights; despis'd us, And held it equal, whether banqueting Or beating of the Britains were more business, It would have gall'd ye.

Bon. Let me think we conquer'd.

Car. Do; but so think, as we may be conquer'd: And where we have found virtue, though in those That came to make us slaves, let's cherish it. There's not a blow we gave since Julius landed, That was of strength and worth, but like records, They file to after-ages. Our Registers, The Romans, are for noble deeds of honour; And shall we burn their mentions with upbraidings?

Bon. No more, I see my self: thou hast made me, Cousin, More than my fortunes durst, for they abus'd me, And wound me up so high, I swell'd with glory: Thy temperance has cur'd that Tympany, And given me health again, nay, more discretion. Shall we have peace? for now I love these Romans.

Car. Thy love and hate are both unwise ones, Lady.

Bon. Your reason?

Nen. Is not peace the end of Arms?

Car. Not where the cause implies a general conquest: Had we a difference with some petty Isle, Or with our neighbors (Lady) for our Land-marks, The taking in of some rebellious Lord, Or making a head against Commotions, After a day of Blood, Peace might be argued: But where we grapple for the ground we live on, The Liberty we hold as dear as life, The gods we worship, and next those, our Honors, And with those swords that know no end of Battel: Those men beside themselves allow no neighbor; Those minds that where the day is, claim inheritance, And where the Sun makes ripe the fruits, their harvest, And where they march, but measure out more ground To add to Rome, and here i'th' bowels on us; It must not be; no, as they are our foes, And those that must be so until we tire 'em, Let's use the peace of Honor, that's fair dealing, But in our ends, our swords. That hardy Romane That hopes to graft himself into my stock, Must first begin his kindred under-ground, And be alli'd in ashes.

Bon. Caratach, As thou hast nobly spoken, shall be done; And Hengo to thy charge I here deliver: The Romans shall have worthy Wars.

Car. They shall. And, little Sir, when your young bones grow stiffer, And when I see ye able in a morning To beat a dozen boys, and then to breakfast, I'll tye ye to a sword.

Heng. And what then Uncle?

Car. Then ye must kill, Sir, the next valiant Romane that calls ye knave.

Hen. And must I kill but one?

Car. An hundred, boy, I hope.

Hen. I hope five hundred.

Car. That's a noble boy. Come, worthy Lady, Let's to our several charges, and henceforth Allow an enemy both weight and worth. [Exeunt.

Scæna Secunda.

Enter Junius and Petillius, two Roman Captains.

Pet. What ail'st thou, man? dost thou want meat?

Jun. No.

Pet. Clothes?

Jun. Neither. For heavens love, leave me.

Pet. Drink?

Jun. Ye tire me.

Pet. Come, 'tis drink; I know 'tis drink.

Jun. Tis no drink.

Pet. I say 'tis drink: for what affliction Can light so heavy on a Soldier, To dry him up as thou art, but no drink? Thou shalt have drink.

Jun. Prethee Petillius—

Pet. And by mine honor, much drink, valiant drink: Never tell me, thou shalt have drink. I see, Like a true friend, into thy wants: 'tis drink; And when I leave thee to a desolation, Especially of that dry nature, hang me.

Jun. Why do you [do] this to me?

Pet. For I see, Although your modesty would fain conceal it, Which sits as sweetly on a Soldier, As an old side-saddle.

Jun. What do you see?

Pet. I see as far as day, that thou want'st drink. Did I not find thee gaping like an Oyster For a new tide? thy very thoughts lie bare Like a low ebb? thy Soul that rid in Sack, Lies moor'd for want of liquor? Do but see Into thy self; for by —— I do: For all thy body's chapt and crackt like timber For want of moisture, what is't thou wantst there, Junius, And if it be not drink?

Jun. You have too much on't.

Pet. It may be a whore too; say it be; come, meecher, Thou shalt have both, a pretty valiant fellow, Die for a little lap and lechery? No, it shall ne'r be said in our Countrey, Thou dy'dst o'th' Chin-cough. Hear, thou noble Roman, The Son of her that loves a Soldier, Hear what I promised for thee; thus I said, Lady, I take thy Son to my companion, Lady, I love thy son, thy Son loves War, The war loves danger, danger drink, drink discipline, Which is society and lechery; These two beget Commanders: fear not, Lady, Thy Son shall lead.

Jun. 'Tis a strange thing, Petillius, That so ridiculous and loose a mirth Can master your affections.

Petil. Any mirth, And any way, of any subject, Junius, Is better than unmanly mustiness: What harm's in drink, in a good wholsome wench? I do beseech ye, Sir, what error? yet It cannot out of my head handsomely, But thou wouldst fain be drunk: come, no more fooling, The General has new wine, new come over.

Jun. He must have new acquaintance for it too, For I will none, I thank ye.

Pet. None I thank ye? A short and touchie answer. None I thank ye: Ye do not scorn it, do ye?

Jun. Gods defend, Sir; I owe him still more honor.

Pet. None, I thank ye: No company, no drink, no wench, I thank ye. Ye shall be worse intreated, Sir.

Jun. Petillius, As thou art honest, leave me.

Pet. None, I thank ye; A modest and a decent resolution, And well put on. Yes, I will leave ye, Junius, And leave ye to the boys, that very shortly Shall all salute ye, by your new sirname Of Junius None I thank ye. I would starve now, Hang, drown, despair, deserve the forks, lie open To all the dangerous passes of a wench, Bound to believe her tears, and wed her aches, E'r I would own thy follies. I have found ye, Your lays, and out-leaps Junius, haunts, and lodges: I have view'd ye, and I have found ye by my skill To be a fool o'th' first head, Junius, And I will hunt ye: ye are in love, I know it: Ye are an ass, and all the Camp shall know it. A peevish idle boy; your Dame shall know it; [A wronger of my care; your self shall know it.]

Enter Corporal Judas, and four Soldiers.

Jud. A Bean? a Princely diet, a full Banquet, To what we compass.

1 Sold. Fight like Hogs for Acorns?

2 Sold. Venture our lives for Pig-nuts?

Pet. What ail these Rascals?

3 Sold. If this hold, we are starv'd.

Jud. For my part, friends, Which is but twenty Beans a day, a hard world For Officers, and men of action; And those so clipt by master Mouse, and rotten: For understand 'em French Beans, where the fruits Are ripen'd like the people in old tubs. For mine own part, I say, I am starv'd already. Not worth another Bean, consum'd to nothing, Nothing but flesh and bones left, miserable: Now if this mustie provender can prick me To honourable matters of atchievment, Gentlemen, Why there's the point.

4 Sold. I'll fight no more.

Petill. You'll hang then, A sovereign help for hunger. Ye eating Rascals, Whose gods are Beef and Brewis, whose brave angers Do execution upon these, and Chibbals: Ye dogs heads i'th' porridge-pot; you fight no more? Does Rome depend upon your resolution For eating mouldy Pie-crust?

3 Sold. Would we had it.

Jud. I may do service, Captain.

Petill. In a fish-market. You, Corporal Curry-Comb, what will your fighting Profit the Common-wealth? do you hope to triumph, Or dare your vamping valour, goodman Cobler, Clap a new [soal] to th' Kingdom? s'death, ye dog-whelps You, fight, or not fight.

Jud. Captain.

Petill. Out, ye flesh-flies, Nothing but noise and nastiness.

Jud. Give us meat, Whereby we may do.

Petill. Whereby hangs your valour?

Jud. Good bits afford good blows.

Petill. A good position: How long is't since thou eat'st last, wipe thy mouth, And then tell truth.

Jud. I have not eat to th' purpose—

Petill. To th' purpose? what's that? half a Cow and Garlick? Ye Rogues, my company eat Turf, and talk not; Timber they can digest, and fight upon't; Old matts, and mud with spoons, rare meats. Your shooes slaves? Dare ye cry out for hunger, and those extant? Suck your Sword-hilts, ye slaves, if ye be valiant, Honor will make 'em march-pain: to the purpose? A grievous penance. Dost thou see that Gentleman, That melancholly Monsieur?

Jun. Pray ye, Petillius.

Pet. He has not eat these three weeks.

2 Sold. 'Has drunk the more then.

3 Sold. And that's all one.

Petill. Nor drunk nor slept these two months.

Jud. Captain, we do beseech yo[u] as poor Soldiers, Men that have seen good days, whose mortal stomachs May sometime feel afflictions.

Jun. This, Petillius, Is not so nobly done.

Petill. 'Tis common profit; Urge him to th' point, he'll find you out a food That needs no teeth nor stomach; a strange furmity Will feed ye up as fat as hens i'th' foreheads, And make ye fight like Fichocks, to him.

Jud. Captain.

Jun. Do you long to have your throats cut?

Petill. See what metal It makes in him: two meals more of this melancholly, And there lies Caratach.

Jud. We do beseech ye.

2 Sold. Humbly beseech your valour.

Jun. Am I only Become your sport Petillius?

Jud. But to render In way of general good, in preservation.

Jun. Out of my thoughts, ye slaves.

4 Sold. Or rather pity.

3 Sold. Your warlike remedy against the maw-worms.

Jud. Or notable receipt to live by nothing.

Petill. Out with your Table-books.

Jun. Is this true friendship? And must my killing-griefs make others May-games? Stand from my swords point, slaves, your poor starv'd spirits Can make me no oblations; else, O love, Thou proudly blind destruction, I would send thee Whole Hecatom[b]s of hearts, to bleed my sorrows.

Jud. Alas, he lives by love, Sir. [Exit Junius.

Pet. So he does, Sir, And cannot you do so too? All my Company Are now in love, ne'r think of meat, nor talk Of what Provant is: Aymees, and Hearty hey-hoes, Are Sallets fit for Soldiers. Live by meat; By larding up your bodies? 'tis lewd, and lazie, And shews ye meerly mortal, dull, and drives ye To fight like Camels, with baskets at your noses. Get ye in love; ye can whore well enough, That all the world knows: fast ye into Famine, Yet ye can crawl like Crabs to wenches, handsomely, Fall but in love now, as ye see example, And follow it but with all your thoughts, probatum, There's so much charge sav'd, and your hunger's ended. Away, I hear the General: get ye in love all, [Drum afar off. Up to the ears in love, that I may hear No more of these rude murmurings; and discreetly Carry your stomachs, or I prophesie A pickel'd Rope will choak ye. Jog, and talk not. [Exeunt.

Enter Swetonius, Demetrius, Decius, Drum, Colours.

Swet. Demetrius, is the messenger dispatch'd To Penyus, to command him to bring up The Volans Regiment?

Dem. He's there by this time.

Swet. And are the Horse well view'd we brought from Mona[?]

Dec. The Troops are full, and lusty.

Swet. Good Petillius, Look to those eating Rogues, that bawl for victuals, And stop their throats a day or two: provision Waits but the wind to reach us.

Pet. Sir, already I have been tampring with their stomachs, which I find As deaf as Adders to delays: your clemency Hath made their murmurs, mutinies, nay, rebellions: Now, and they want but Mustard, they'r in uproars No oil but Candy, Lusitanian Figs And Wine from Lesbos now can satisfie 'em: The British waters are grown dull and muddy, The fruit disgustful: Orontes must be sought for, And Apples from the happy Isles: the truth is, They are more curious now in having nothing, Than if the sea and land turn'd up their treasures: This lost the Colonies, and gave Bonduca (With shame we must record it) time and strength To look into our Fortunes; great discretion To follow offered Victory; and last, full pride To brave us to our teeth, and scorn our ruines.

Swet. Nay, chide not, good Petillius, I confess My will to conquer Mona, and long stay To execute that Will, let in these losses: All shall be right again, and as a Pine Rent from Oeta by a sweeping tempest, Joynted again, and made a Mast, defies Those angry winds that split him: so will I, Piec'd to my never-fai[l]ing strength and fortune, Steer thorow these swelling dangers; plow their prides up, And bear like thunder through their loudest tempests: They keep the field still.

Dem. Confident and full.

Pet. In such a number, one would swear they grew, The hills are wooded with their partisans, And all the valleys overgrown with darts, As moors are with rank rushes: no ground left us To charge upon, no room to strike: say fortune And our endeavours bring us in to 'em, They are so infinite, so ever-springing. We shall be kill'd with killing; of desperate Women, That neither fear, or shame e'r found, the devil Has rank'd amongst 'em multitudes: say the men fail, They'll poison us with their petticoats: say they fail, They have priests enough to pray us into nothing.

Sw[e]t. These are imaginations, dreams of nothing, The man that doubts or fears.

Dec. I am free of both.

Dem. The self-same I.

Petill. And I as free as any; As careless of my flesh, of that we call life, So I may lose it nobly; as indifferent As if it were my diet. Yet, noble General, It was a wisdom learn'd from you; I learn'd it, And worthy of a Soldiers care, most worthy, To weigh with most deliberate circumstance The ends of accidents, above their offers; How to go on and get, to save a Roman, Whose one life is more worth in way of doing, Than millions of these painted wasps; how viewing To find advantage out; how; how, found, to follow it With counsel and discretion, lest meer fortune Should claim the victory.

Sw[e]t. 'Tis true, Petillius, And worthily remembred: the rule's certain, Their uses no less excellent: but where time Cuts off occasio[n]s, danger, time and all Tend to a present peril, 'tis required Our Swords and Manhoods be best counsellors, Our expeditions, presidents. To win, is nothing, Where reason, time and counsel are our Camp-masters: But there to bear the field, then to be conquerors, Where pale destruction takes us, takes us beaten, I[n] wants, and mutinies, our selves but handfuls, And to our selves, our own fears, needs a new way, A sudden and a desperate execution: Here, how to save, is loss; to be wise, dangerous; Only a present well-united strength, And minds made up for all attempts, dispatch it: Disputing and delay here, cools the courage; Necessity gives time for doubts; things infinite, According to the spirit they are preach'd to, Rewards like them; and names for after-ages, Must steel the Soldier; his own shame help to arm him; And having forc'd his spirit, e'r he cools, Fling him upon his enemies; sudden and swift, Like Tigers amongst Foxes, we must fight for't: Fury must be our Fortune; shame we have lost, Spurs ever in our sides to prick us forward: There is no other wisdom nor discretion Due to this day of ruine, but destruction; The Soldiers order first, and then his anger.

Dem. No doubt they dare redeem all.

Swet. Then no doubt The day must needs be ours. That the proud Woman Is infinite in number, better likes me, Than if we dealt with squadrons: half her Army Shall choak themselves, their own swords dig their graves. I'll tell ye all my fears, one single valour, The virtues of the valiant Caratach More doubts me than all Britain: he's a Soldier So forg'd out, and so temper'd for great fortunes, So much man thrust into him, so old in dangers, So fortunate in all attempts, that his mere name Fights in a thousand men, himself in millions, To make him Roman. But no more. Petillius, How stands your charge?

Petill. Ready for all employments, To be commanded too, Sir.

Swet. 'Tis well govern'd; To morrow we'll draw out, and view the Cohorts: I' th' mean time, all apply their offices. Where's Junius?

Petill. In's Cabin, Sick o'th' mumps, Sir.

Swet. How?

Petill. In love, indeed in love, most lamentably loving, To the tune of Queen Dido.

Dec. Alas poor Gentleman.

Swet. 'Twill make him fight the nobler. With what Lady? I'll be a spokesman for him.

Petill. You'll scant speed, Sir.

Swet. Who is't?

Petill. The devil's dam, Bonduca's daughter, Her youngest, crackt i'th' ring.

Swet. I am sorry for him: But sure his own discretion will reclaim him, He must deserve our anger else. Good Captains, Apply your selves in all the pleasing forms Ye can, unto the Soldiers; fire their spirits, And set 'em fit to run this action; Mine own provision shall be shar'd amongst 'em, Till more come in: tell 'em, if now they conquer, The fat of all the kingdom lies before 'em. Their shames forgot, their honors infinite, And want for ever banisht. Two days hence, Our fortunes, and our swords, and gods be for us. [Exeunt.

Actus Secundus. Scæna Prima.

Enter Penyus, Regulus, Macer, Drusius.

Pen. I must come?

Ma. So the General commands, Sir.

Pen. I must bring up my Regiment?

Ma. Believe, Sir, I bring no lye.

Pen. But did he say, I must come?

Ma. So delivered.

Pen. How long is't, Regulus, since I commanded In Britain here?

Reg. About five years, great Penyus.

Pen. The General some five months. Are all my actions So poor, and lost, my services so barren, That I'm remembred in no nobler language But Must come up?

Ma. I do beseech ye, Sir, Weigh but the times estate.

Pen. Yes, good Lieutenant, I do, and his that sways it. Must come up; Am I turn'd bare Centurion? Must, and shall, Fit Embasses to court my honor?

Ma. Sir—

Pen. Set me to lead a handful of my men Against an hundred thousand barbarous slaves That have marcht name by name with Romes best doers? Serve 'em up some other meat; I'll bring no food To stop the jaws of all those hungry wolfs. My Regiment's mine own. I must, my language.

Enter Curius.

Cur. Penyus, where lies the Host?

Pen. Where fate may find 'em.

Cur. Are they ingirt?

Pen. The Battel's lost.

Cur. So soon?

Pen. No; but 'tis lost, because it must be won: The Britains must be Victors. Who e'r saw A troop of bloody vultures hovering About a few corrupted carcasses, Let him behold the silly Roman host, Girded with millions of fierce B[r]itains Swains, With deaths as many as they have had hopes; And then go thither, he that loves his shame; I scorn my life, yet dare not lose my name.

Cur. Do not you hold it a most famous end, When both our names and lives are sacrific'd For Romes increase?

Pen. Yes, Curius; but mark this too; What glory is there, or what lasting Fame Can be to Rome or us? what full example, When one is smother'd with a multitude, And crouded in amongst a nameless press? Honor got out of Flint, and on their heads Whose virtues, like the Sun, exhal'd all valours, Must not be lost in mists and fogs of people, Noteless, and out of name, but rude and naked: Nor can Rome task us with impossibilities, Or bid us fight against a flood: we serve her, That she may proudly say she has good soldiers, Not slaves to choak all hazards. Who but fools, That make no difference betwixt certain dying, And dying well, would fling their Fames and Fortunes Into this Britain-gulf, this quick-sand ruine, That sinking, swallows us, What noble hand Can find a subject fit for blood there? or what sword Room for his execution? What air to cool us, But poison'd with their blasting breaths and curses, Where we lie buried quick above the ground, And are with labouring sweat, and breathless pain, Kill'd like to slaves, and cannot kill again?

Dru. Penyus, mark antient Wars, and know that then Captains weigh'd an hundred thousand men.

Pen. Drusius, mark antient wisdom, and you'll find then, He gave the overthrow that sav'd his men, I must not go.

Reg. The soldiers are desirous, Their Eagles all drawn out, Sir.

Pen. Who drew up, Regulus? Ha? speak: did you whose bold Will durst attempt this? Drawn out? why, who commands, Sir? on whose warrant Durst they advance?

Reg. I keep mine own obedience.

Dru. 'Tis like the general cause, their love of honor, Relieving of their wants.

Pen. Without my knowledge? Am I no more? my place but at their pleasures? Come, who did this?

Dru. By —— Sir, I am ignorant.

[Drum softly within; then enter
[Soldiers with Drum and Colours.

Pen. What am I grown a shadow? Harke, they march. I will know, and will be my self. Stand, disobedience; He that advances one foot higher, dies for't. Run thorow the Regiment upon your duties, And charge 'em on command: beat back again, By —— I'll ti'th'em all else.

Reg. We'll do our best. [Exeunt Drusius and Regulus.

Pen. Back; cease your bawling Drums there, I'll beat the Tubs about your brains else. Back: Do I speak with less fear than Thunder to ye? Must I stand to besee[c]h ye? home, home: ha? Do ye stare upon me? Are those minds I moulded, Those honest valiant tempers I was proud To be a fellow to, those great discretions Made your names fear'd and honor'd, turn'd to wild-fires? O gods, to disobedience? Command, farewel: And be ye witness with me, all things sacred, I have no share in these mens shames. March, Soldiers, And seek your own sad ruines; your old Penyus Dares not behold your murders.

Sold. Captain.

2 Sold. Captain.

3 Sold. Dear honour'd Captain.

Pen. Too too dear lov'd Soldiers, Which made ye weary of me: and Heaven yet knows, Though in your mutinies, I dare not hate you; Take your own Wills; 'tis fit your long experience Should now know how to rule your selves: I wrong ye, In wishing ye to save your lives and credits, To keep your necks whole from the Ax hangs o'r ye: Alas, I much dishonour'd ye: go, seek the Britains, And say ye come to glut their sacrifices; But do not say I sent ye. What ye have been, How excellent in all parts, good, and govern'd, Is only left of my Command, for story; What now ye are, for pitie. Fare ye well.

Enter Drusius and Regulus.

Dru. Oh turn again, great Penyus; see the Soldier In all points apt for duty.

Reg. See his sorrow For his disobedience, which he says was haste, And haste (he thought) to please you with. See Captain, The toughness of his courage turn'd to water; See how his manly heart melts.

Pen. Go, beat homeward, There learn to eat your little with obedience, And henceforth strive to do as I direct ye. [Exeunt Soldiers.

Ma. My answer, Sir.

Pen. Tell the Great General My Companies are no fagots to fill breaches; My self no man that must, or shall, can carry: Bid him be wise; and where he is, he's safe then; And when he finds out possibilities, He may command me. Commend me to the Captains.

Ma. All this I shall deliver.

Pen. Farewel, Macer. [Exit Penyus.

Cur. Pray gods this breed no mischief.

Reg. It must needs, If stout Suetonius win; for then his anger, Besides the Soldiers loss of due, and honor, Will break together on him.

Dru. He's a brave fellow; And but a little hide his haughtiness, (Which is but sometimes neither, on some causes) He shews the worthiest Roman this day living. You may, good Curius, to the General Make all things seem the best.

Cur. I shall endeavour: Pray for our fortunes, Gentlemen, If we fall, This one farewel serves for a Funeral. The gods make sharp our swords, and steel our hearts; We dare, alas, but cannot fight our parts. [Exeunt.

Scæna Secunda.

Enter Junius, Petillius and a Herald observing Junius.

Petill. Let him go on: stay, now he talks.

Jun. Why? Why should I love mine enemie? what is beauty? Of what strange violence, that like the plague, It works upon our spirits? blind they feign him, I am sure, I find it so.

Petill. A Dog shall lead ye.

Jun. His fond affections blinder.

Petill. Hold ye there still.

Jun. It takes away my sleep.

Petill. Alas, poor chicken.

Jun. My company, content; almost my fashion.

Petill. Yes, and your weight too, if you follow it.

Jun. 'Tis sure the plague, for no man dare come near me Without an Antidote: 'tis far worse; Hell.

Petill. Thou art damn'd without redemption then.

Jun. The way to't Strew'd with fair Western smiles, and April blushes, Led by the brightest constellations; eyes, And sweet proportions, envying heaven: but from thence No way to guide, no path, no wisdom bring us.

Petill. Yes, a smart water, Junius.

Jun. Do I fool? Know all this, and fool still? Do I know further, That when we have enjoy'd our ends, we lose 'em, And all our appetites are but as dreams We laugh at in our ages.

Petill. Sweet Philosopher!

Jun. Do I know on still, and yet know nothing? Mercy gods, Why am I thus ridiculous?

Petill. Motley on thee, Thou art an arrant Ass.

Jun. Can red and white, An Eye, a Nose, a Cheek.

Petill. But one cheek, Junius? An half-fac'd Mistriss?

Jun. With a little trim, That wanton fools call Fashion, thus abuse me? Take me beyond my reason? Why should not I Doat on my horse well trapt, my sword well hatch'd? They are as handsome things, to me more useful, And possible to rule too. Did I but love, Yet 'twere excusable, my youth would bear it; But to love there, and that no time can give me, Mine honor dare not ask: she has been ravish'd My nature must not know; she hates our Nation. Thus to dispose my spirit!

Petill. Stay a little, He will declaim again.

Jun. I will not love; I am a man, have reason, And I will use it: I'll no more tormenting, Nor whining for a wench, there are a thousand.

Petill. Hold thee there boy.

Jun. A thousand will intreat me.

Petill. Ten thousand, Junius.

Jun. I am young and lusty, And to my fashion valiant; can please nightly.

Petill. I'll swear thy back's probatum, for I have known thee Leap at sixteen like a strong Stallion.

Jun. I will be man again.

Petill. Now mark the working, The devil and the spirit tug for't: twenty pound Upon the devils head.

Jun. I must be wretched.

Petill. I knew I had won.

Jun. Nor have I so much power To shun my fortune.

Petill. I will hunt thy fortune With all the shapes imagination breeds, [Musick. But I will fright thy devil: Stay, he sings now.

Song, by Junius, and Petillius, after him in mockage.

Jun. Must I be thus abus'd?

Petill. Yes marry must ye. Let's follow him close: oh, there he is, now read it.

Herald reads. It is the Generals command, that all sick, persons old and unable, retire within the Trenches; he that fears his liberty, to leave the Field: Fools, Boys, and Lovers must not come near the Regiments, for fear of their infections; especially those Cowards they call Lovers.

Jun. Ha?

Petill. Read on.

Herald. If any common Soldier love an enemy, he's whip'd and made a slave: If any Captain, cast, with loss of honors, flung out o'th' Army, and made unable ever after to bear the name of a Soldier.

Jun. The —— consume ye all, Rogues. [Exit Jun.

Petill. Let this work: H'as something now to chew upon: he's gone, Come, shake no more.

Her. Well, Sir, you may command me, But not to do the like again for Europe; I would have given my life for a bent two-pence. If I e'r read to Lovers whilst I live again, Or come within their confines—

Petill. There's your payment, And keep this private.

Her. I am school'd for talking. [Exit Herald.

Enter Demetrius.

Petill. How now, Demetrius, are we drawn?

Dem. 'Tis doing: Your Company stands fair; but pray ye, where's Junius? Half his command are wanting, with some forty That Decius leads.

Petill. Hunting for Victuals: Upon my life free-booting Rogues, their stomachs Are like a widows lust, ne'r satisfied.

Dem. I wonder how they dare stir, knowing the enemy Master of all the Countrey.

Petill. Resolute hungers Know neither fears nor faiths, they tread on ladders, Ropes, Gallows, and overdoe all dangers.

Dem. They may be hang'd though.

Petill. There's their joyful supper, And no doubt they are at it.

Dem. But for heavens sake, How does young Junius?

Petill. Drawing on, poor Gentleman.

Dem. What, to his end?

Petill. To th' end of all flesh: woman.

Dem. This Love has made him a stout Soldier.

Petill. O, a great one, Fit to command young Goslings: but what news?

Dem. I think the messengers come back from Penyus, By this time, let's go know.

Petill. What will you say now If he deny to come, and take exceptions At some half syllable, or sound deliver'd With an ill accent, or some stile left out?

Dem. I cannot think he dare.

Petill. He dare speak treason, Dare say, what no man dares believe, dares do—But that's a[l]l one: I'll lay you my black armor To twenty crowns, he comes not.

Dem. Done.

Petill. You'll pay.

Dem. I will.

Petill. Then keep thine old use Penyus, Be stubborn and vain glorious, and I thank thee. Come let's go pray for six hours: most of us I fear will trouble heaven no more: two good blows Struck home at two Commanders of the Britains, And my part's done.

Dem. I do not think of dying.

Petill. 'Tis possible we may live. But Demetrius, With what strange legs, and arms, and eyes, and noses, Let Carpenters and Copper-smiths consider. If I can keep my heart whole, and my wind-pipe, That I may drink yet like a Soldier—

Dem. Come, let's [have] better thoughts; mine's on your Armour.

Petill. Mine's in your purse, Sir; Let's go try the wager. [Exeunt.

Scæna Tertia.

Enter Judas and his four companions (halters about their necks) Bonduca, her Daughters, Nennius following.

Bon. Come, hang 'em presently.

Nen. What made your Rogueships Harrying for victuals here? Are we your friends; Or do you come for Spies? tell me directly, Would you not willingly be hang'd now? do not ye long for't?

Jud. What say ye? shall we hang in this vain? Hang we must And 'tis as good to dispatch it merrily, As pull an arse like dogs to't.

1 Sold. Any way, So it be handsome.

3 Sold. I had as lief 'twere toothsome too: but all agree, And I'll not out Boys.

4 Sold. Let's hang pleasantly.

Jud. Then pleasantly be it: Captain, the truth is, We had as lief hang with meat in our mouths, As ask your pardon empty.

Bon. These are brave hungers. What say you to a leg of Beef now, sirrah?

Jud. Bring me acquainted with it, and I'll tell ye.

Bon. Torment 'em wenches: I must back; then hang 'em.

Jud. We humbly thank your Grace.

1 Daugh. The Rogues laugh at us.

2 Daugh. Sirrah, What think you of a wench now?

Jud. A wench, Lady? I do beseech your Ladyship, retire. I'll tell ye presently, ye see the time's short; One crash; even to the setling of my conscience.

Nen. Why, is't no more but up, boys?

Jud. Yes, ride too Captain Will you but see my seat?

1 Daugh. Ye shall be set, Sir, Upon a jade shall shake ye.

Jud. Sheets, good Madam, Will do it ten times better.

1 Daugh. Whips, good Soldier. Which ye shall taste before ye hang, to mortifie ye; 'Tis pity ye should die thus desperate.

2 Daugh. These are the merry Romans the brave madcaps. 'Tis ten to one we'll cool your resolutions. Bring out the whips.

Jud. Would your good Ladyships Would exercise 'em too.

4 Sold. Surely Ladies, We'll shew you a strange patience.

Nen. Hang 'em Rascals, They'll talk thus on the wheel. [Enter Caratach.

Car. Now, what's the matter? What are these fellows? what's the crime committed, That they wear necklaces?

Nen. They are Roman Rogues, Taken a Forraging.

Car. Is that all, Nennius?

Jud. Would I were fairly hang'd; this is the devil, The kill-cow, Caratach,

Car. And you would hang 'em.

Nen. Are they not enemies?

1 Sol. My breech makes buttons.

1 Daugh. Are they not our tormentors?

Car. Tormentors? Flea-traps. Pluck off your halters, fellows.

Nen. Take heed, Caratach, Taint not your wisdom.

Car. Wisdom, Nennius? Why, who shall fight against us, make our honors, And give a glorious day into our hands, If we dispatch our foes thus? what's their offence? Stealing a loaf or two to keep out hunger, A piece of greazie bacon, or a pudding? Do these deserve the gallows, they are hungry, Poor hungry knaves, no meat at home left, starv'd: Art thou not hungry?

Jud. Monstrous hungry.

Car. He looks like hungers self: get 'em some victuals, And Wine to cheer their hearts, quick: Hang up poor pilchers?

2 Sold. This is the bravest Captain—

Nen. Caratach, I'll leave you to your Will.

Car. I'll answer all, Sir.

2 Daugh. Let's up and view his entertainment of ['em]. I am glad they are shifted any way, their tongues else Would still have murdred us.

1 Daugh. Let's up and see it. [Exeunt.

Enter Hengo.

Car. Sit down poor knaves: why where's this Wine and Victuals? Who waits there?

Swet. within. Sir, 'tis coming.

Hen. Who are these Uncle?

Car. They are R[o]mans, boy.

Hen. Are these they That vex mine Aunt so? can these fight? they look Like empty scabbards, all, no mettle in 'em, Like men of clouts, set to keep crows from orchards; Why, I dare fight with these.

Car. That's my good chicken. And how do ye? How do you feel your stomachs?

Jud. Wondrous apt, Sir, As shall appear when time calls.

Car. That's well, down wi'th't, A little grace will serve your turns: eat softly, You'll choak ye knaves else: give 'em Wine.

Jud. Not yet, Sir, We're even a little busie.

Hen. Can that fellow Do any thing but eat? thou fellow.

Jud. Away boy, Away, this is no boys play.

Hen. By ——, Uncle, If his valour lie in's teeth, he's the most valiant.

Car. I am glad to hear ye talk, Sir,

Hen. Good Uncle tell me, What's the price of a couple of cramm'd Romans?

Car. Some twenty Britains boy; these are good Soldiers,

Hen. Do not the cowards eat hard too?

Car. No more, boy. Come, I'll sit with you too; sit down by me, boy.

Jud. Pray bring your dish then.

Car. Hearty knaves: More meat there.

1 Sol. That's a good hearing.

Car. Stay now and pledge me.

Jud. This little piece, Sir.

Car. By —— square eaters, More meat I say: upon my conscience The poor Rogues have not eat this month: how terribly They charge upon their victuals: dare ye fight thus?

Jud. Believe it, Sir, like devils.

Car. Well said famine, Here's to thy General.

Jud. Most excellent Captain, I will now pledg thee.

Car. And to morrow night say to him, His Head is mine.

Jud. I can assure ye Captain, He will not give it for this washing.

Car. Well said. [Daughters above.

1 Daugh. Here's a strange entertainment: how the thieves drink.

2 Da[u]gh. Danger is dry, they look'd for colder liquor.

Car. Fill 'em more wine, give 'em full bowls; which of you all now In recompence of this good, dare but give me A sound knock in the battel?

Jud. Delicate Captain, To do thee a sufficient recompence, I'll knock thy brains out.

Car. Do it.

Hen. Thou dar'st as well be damn'd: thou knock his brains out. Thou skin of man? Uncle, I will not hear this.

Jud. Tie up your whelp.

Hen. Thou kill m[y] Uncle? Would I had but a sword for thy sake, thou dry'd dog.

Car. What a mettle This little vermin carries.

Heng. Kill mine Uncle?

Car. He shall not, child.

Hen. He cannot: he's a Rogue, An only eating Rogue: Kill my sweet Uncle? Oh that I were a man.

Jud. By this Wine, Which I will drink to Captain Junius, Who loves the Queens most excellent Majesties little daughter Most sweetly, and most fearfully I will do it.

Heng. Uncle, I'll kill him with a great pin.

Car. No more, Boy. I'll pledge thy Captain: To ye all good fellows.

2 Daugh. In love with me? that love shall cost your lives all: Come Sister, and advise me; I have here A way to make an easie conquest of 'em, If fortune favour me.

Car. Let's see ye sweat To morrow, blood and spirit, Boys, this Wine Turn'd to stern valour.

1 Sold. Hark ye Judas, If he should hang us after all this.

Jud. Let him: I'll hang like a Gentleman and a Roman.

Car. Take away there, They have enough.

Jud. Captain, we thank you heartily For your good cheer, and if we meet to morrow, One of us pays for't.

Car. Get 'em guides, their Wine Has over-master'd 'em.

Enter second Daughter, and a Servant.

2 Daugh. That hungry fellow With the red beard there, give it him, and this, To see it well delivered.

Car. Farewel knaves; Speak nobly of us, keep your words to morrow.

Enter a Guide.

And do something worthy your meat. Go, guide 'em, And see 'em fairly onward.

Jud. Meaning me, Sir?

Serv. The same. The youngest daughter to the Queen intreats ye To give this privately to Captain Junius, This for your pains.

Jud. I rest her humble servant, Commend me to thy Lady. Keep your Files, boys.

Serv. I must instruct ye farther.

Jud. Keep your Files there. Order, sweet friends: faces about now.

Guide. Here Sir, Here lies your way.

Jud. 'Bless the Founders, I say, Fairly, good soldiers, fairly march now: close, boys. [Exeunt.

Scæna Quarta.

Enter Swetonius, Petillius, Demetris, Decius, Macer.

Swet. Bid me be wise, and keep me where I am, And so be safe: not come, because commanded; Was it not thus?

Ma. It was, Sir.

Pet. What now think ye?

Swet. Must come, so hainous to him, so distasteful?

Pet. Give me my money.

Dem. I confess 'tis due, Sir, And presently I'll pay it.

Swet. His obedience. So blind at his years and experience, It cannot find where to be tendred?

Ma. Sir, The Regiment was willing, and advanc'd too, The Captains at all points steel'd up: their preparations Full of resolve, and confidence; Youth and fire, Like the fair breaking of a glorious day, Guilded their Phalanx: when the angry Penyus Stept like a stormy cloud 'twixt them and hopes.

Swet. And stopt their resolutions?

Ma. True: his reason To them was ods, and ods so infinite, Discretion durst not look upon.

Swet. Well Penyus, I cannot think thee coward yet; and treacherous I dare not think: thou hast lopt a limb off from me, And let it be thy glory, thou wast stubborn, Thy wisdom, that thou leftst thy General naked: Yet e'r the Sun set, I shall make thee see, All valour dwels not in thee; all command In one experience. Thou wilt too late repent this, And wis[h], I must come up, had been thy blessing.

Petill. Let's force him.

Swet. No, by no means; he's a torrent We cannot easily stemme.

Petill. I think, a Traitor.

Swet. No ill words: let his own shame first revile him. That Wine I have, see it (Demetrius) Distributed amongst the soldiers, To make 'em high and lusty: when that's done, Petillius, give the word through, that the Eagles May presently advance: no man discover, Upon his life, the enemies full strength, But make it of no value: Decius, Are your starv'd people yet come home?

Dec. I hope so.

Swet. Keep 'em in more obedience: This is no time To chide, I could be angry else, and say more to ye: But come, let's o[r]der all: whose sword is sharpest, And valour equal to his sword this day, Shall be my Saint.

Petill. We shall be holy all then. [Exeunt.

Enter Judas and his company.

Jud. Captain, Captain, I have brought 'em off again; The drunkennest slaves.

Dec. —— Confound your Rogueships; I'll call the General, and have ye hang'd all.

Jud. Pray who will you command then?

Dec. For you, sirrah, That are the ring-leader to these devises, Whose maw is never cramm'd, I'll have an engine.

Jud. A wench, sweet Captain.

Dec. Sweet Judas, even the Forks. Where ye shall have two Lictors with two whips Hammer your hide.

Jud. Captain, good words, fair words, Sweet words, good Captain; if you like not us, Farewell, we have imployment.

Dec. Where hast thou been?

Jud. There where you dare not be with all your valour.

Dec. Where's that?

Jud. With the best good fellow living.

1 Sold. The king of all good fellows.

Dec. Who's that?

Jud. Caratach. Shake now, and say, We have done something worthy, Mark me; with Caratach: By this —— Caratach: Do you as much now and you dare: sweet Caratach. Ye talk of a good fellow, of true drinking; Well, go thy waies old Caratach: besides the drink Captain, The bravest running Banquet of black puddings, Pieces of glorious beef.

Dec. How scap'd ye hanging?

Jud. Hanging's a dog's death, we are Gentlemen, And I say still, old Caratach.

Dec. Belike then, You are turn'd Rebels all.

Jud. We are Roman boys all, And boys of mettle: I must do that Captain, This day, this very day.

Dec. Away, ye Rascal.

Jud. Fair words, I say again.

Dec. What must you do, Sir?

Jud. I must do that my heart-strings yern to do: But my word's past.

Dec. What is it?

Jud. Why, kill Caratach. That's all he ask'd us for our entertainment.

Dec. More than you'll pay.

Jud. Would I had sold my self Unto the skin I had not promis'd it: For such another Caratach—

Dec. Come Fool, Have ye done your Countrey service?

Jud. I have brought that To Captain Junius.

Dec. How?

Jud. I think will do all: I cannot tell, I think so.

Dec. How? to Junius? I'll more enquire of this: You'll fight now?

Jud. Promise: Take heed of promise, Captain.

Dec. Away, and rank then.

Jud. But harke ye Captain, there is Wine distributing, I would fain know what share I have.

Dec. Be gone, Ye have too much.

Jud. Captain, no Wine, no fighting. There's one call'd Caratach that has Wine.

Dec. Well, Sir, If you'll be rul'd now, and do well.

Jud. Do excellent.

Dec. Ye shall have Wine, or any thing: go file; I'll see ye have your share: drag out your dormise, And stow 'em somewhere, where they may sleep handsomly, They'l hear a hunt's up shortly.

Jud. Now I love thee: But no more Forks nor Whips.

Dec. Deserve 'em not then: Up with your men, I'll meet ye presently; And get 'em sober quickly.

Jud. Arm, arm, Bullies; All's right again and straight; and which is more, More Wine, more Wine: Awake ye men of Memphis, Be sober and discreet, we have much to do boys. [Exeunt.

Actus Tertius. Scæna Prima.

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. Prepare there for the sacrifice, the Queen comes. [Musick.

Enter in solemnity the Druids singing, the second Daughter strewing Flowers: then Bonduca, Nennius, and others.

Bond. Ye powerful gods of Britain, hear our prayers; Hear us you great Revengers, and this day Take pity from our swords, doubt from our valours, Double the sad remembrance of our wrongs In every brest; the vengeance due to those Make infinite and endless: on our pikes This day pale terror sit, horrors and ruines Upon our executions; claps of thunder Hang on our armed carts, and 'fore our Troops Despair and death; shame beyond these attend 'em. Rise from the dust, ye relicks of the dead, Whose noble deeds our holy Druids sing, Oh rise, ye valiant bones, let not base earth Oppress your honors, whilst the pride of Rome Treads on your Stocks, and wipes out all your stories.

Nen. Thou great Tiranes, whom our sacred Priests, Armed with dreadful thunder, plac'd on high Above the rest of the immortal gods, Send thy consuming fires, and deadly bolts, And shoot 'em home, stick in each Roman heart A fear fit for confusion; blast their spirits, Dwell in 'em to destruction; thorow their Phalanx Strike, as thou [str]ik'st a proud tree; shake their Bodies, Make their strengths totter, and their topless fortunes Unroot and reel to ruine.

1 Daugh. O thou god, Thou feared god, if ever to thy justice Insulting wrongs, and ravishments of Women, Women deriv'd from thee, their shames, the sufferings Of those that daily fill'd thy Sacrifice With Virgin incense, have access, now hear me, Now snatch thy thunder up, now on these Romans, Despisers of thy power, of us defacers, Revenge thy self, take to thy killing anger, To make thy great work full, thy justice spoken, An utter rooting from this blessed Isle Of what Rom[e] is or has been.

Bon. Give more incense, The gods are deaf and drowsie; no happy flame Rises to raise our thoughts: Pour on.

2 Daugh. See heaven, And all you pow'rs that guide us, see, and shame We kneel so long for pity over your Altars; Since 'tis no light oblation that you look for, No incense offering, will I hang mine eyes; And as I wear these stones with hourly weeping, So will I melt your pow'rs into compassion. This tear for Prosutagus my brave Father, Ye gods, now think on Rome; this for my Mother, And all her miseries; yet see, and save us; But now ye must be open-ey'd. See; heaven, Oh see thy show'rs stoln from thee; our dishonours,

[A smoak from the Altar.

Oh Sister, our dishonors: can ye be gods, And these sins smother'd?

Bon. The fire takes.

Car. It does so, But no flame rises. Cease your fearful prayers, Your whinings, and your tame petitions; The gods love courage arm'd with confidence, And prayers fit to pull them down: weak tears And troubled hearts, the dull twins of cold spirits, They sit and smile at. Hear how I salute 'em: Divine Andate, thou who hold'st the reins Of furious Battels, and disordred War, And proudly roll'st thy swarty chariot wheels Over the heaps of wounds and carcasses, Sailing through seas of blood; thou sure-steel'd sternness, Give us this day good hearts, good enemies, Good blowes o' both sides, wounds that fear or flight Can claim no share in; steel us both with angers, And warlike executions fit thy viewing; Let Rome put on her best strength, and thy Britain, Thy little Britain, but as great in fortune, Meet her as strong as she, as proud, as daring; And then look on, thou red ey'd god: who does best, Reward with honor; who despair makes flie, Unarm for ever, and brand with infamy: Grant this, divine Andate, 'tis but justice; And my first blow thus on thy holy Altar [A flame arises. I sacrifice unto thee.

Bon. It flames out. [Musick.

Car. Now sing ye Druides. [Song.

Bon. 'Tis out again.

Car. H'as given us leave to fight yet; we ask no more, The rest hangs in our resolutions: Tempt her no more.

Bon. I would know farther Cosen.

Car. Her hidden meaning dwels in our endeavors; Our valors are our best gods. Cheer the Soldier, And let him eat.

Mes. He's at it, Sir.

Car. Away then; When he has done, let's march. Come, fear not Lady, This day the Roman gains no more ground here, But what his body lies in.

Bond. Now I am confident. [Exeunt Recorders.

Scæna Secunda.

Enter Junius, Curius, Decius.

Dec. We dare not hazard it: beside our lives, It forfeits all our understandings.

Jun. Gentlemen, Can ye forsake me in so just a service, A service for the Common-wealth, for honor? Read but the Letter; you may love too.

Dec. Read it: If there be any safety in the circumstance, Or likelihood 'tis love, we will not fail ye. Read it good Curius.

Cur. Willingly.

Jun. Now mark it.

Cur. reads. Health to thy heart, my honoured Junius, And all thy love requited: I am thine, Thine everlastingly, thy love has won me, And let it breed no doubt; our new acquaintance Compels this, 'tis the gods decree to bless us. The times are dangerous to meet; yet fail not, By all the love thou bear'st me I conjure thee, Without distrust of danger, to come to me, For I have purpos'd a delivery Both of my self and fortune this blest day Into thy hands, if thou thinkst good: to shew thee How infinite my Love is, even my Mother Shall be thy prisoner, the day yours without hazard; For I beheld your danger like a Lover, A just affecter of thy faith: Thy goodness, I know, will use us nobly, and our Marriage If not redeem, yet lessen Romes Ambition. I'm weary of these miseries: Use my Mother, (if you intend to take her) with all honour, And let this disobedience to my parents Be laid on love, not me. Bring with thee, Junius, Spirits resolv'd to fetch me off, the noblest, Forty will serve the turn; just at the joyning Of both the battels, we will be weakly guarded; And for a guide, within this hour shall reach thee A faithful friend of mine: the gods, my Junius, Keep thee, and me to serve thee: young Bonvica.

Cur. This letter carries much belief, and most objections Answer'd, we must have doubted.

Dec. Is that fellow Come to ye for a guide yet?

Jun. Yes.

Dec. And examin'd?

Jun. Far more then that; he has felt tortures, yet He vows he knows no more than this truth.

Dec. Strange.

Cur. If she mean what she writes, as't may be probable, 'Twill be the happiest vantage we can lean to.

Jun. I'll pawn my soul she means truth.

Dec. Think an hour more, Then if your confidence grow stronger on ye, We'll set in with ye.

Jun. Nobly done; I thank ye; Ye know the time.

Cur. We will be either ready To give ye present counsell, or joyn with ye.

Enter Swetonius, Petillius, and Demetrius, Macer.

Jun. No more as ye are Gentlemen. The general.

Swet. Draw out apace, the enemy waits for us; Are ye all ready?

Jun. All our Troops attend, Sir.

Swet. I am glad to hear you say so, Junius. I hope ye are dispossest.

Jun. I hope so too, Sir.

Swet. Continue so. And Gentlemen, to you now; To bid you fight is needless, ye are Romans, The name will fight it self; To tell ye who You go to fight against, his power, and nature, But loss of time: [ye] know it, know it poor, And oft have made it so. To tell ye farther, His Body shows more dreadful than it has done, To him that fears, less possible to deal with, Is but to stick more honor on your actions, Load ye with virtuous names, and to your memories Tye never dying time, and fortune constant. Go on in full assurance, draw your swords As daring and as confident as justice; The gods of Rome fight for ye; loud Fame calls ye, Pitch'd on the topless Apenine, and blows To all the under world: all Nations, The seas, and unfrequented deserts, where the snow dwels, Wakens the ruin'd monuments, and there Where nothing but eternal death and sleep is, Informs again the dead bones. With your virtues, Go on, I say, valiant and wise, rule heaven, And all the great aspects attend 'em. Do but blow Upon this enemy, who, but that we want foes, Cannot deserve that name; and like a myst, A lazie fog, before your burning valors You'll find him fly to nothing, This is all, We have swords, and are the sons of antient Romans, Heirs to their endless valors, fight and conquer.

De. Dem. 'Tis done.

Petill. That man that loves not this day, And hugs not in his arms the noble danger, May he dye fameless and forgot.

Swet. Sufficient, Up to your Troops, and let your drums beat thunder, March close, and sudden like a tempest: all executions [March. Done without sparkling of the Body: keep your phalanx Sure lin'd, and piec'd together; your pikes forward, And so march like a moving Fort: ere this day run, We shall have ground to add to Rome, well won. [Exeunt.

Scæna Tertia.

Enter Caratach and Nennius.

Nen. The Roman is advanc'd from yound' hills brow, We may behold him, Caratach. [A March.

[Drums within at one place afar off.

Car. Let's thither, I see the dust flie. Now I see the body, Observe 'em, Nennius, by —— a handsome Body, And of a few, strongly and wisely joynted: Swetonius is a Souldier.

Nen. As I take it, That's he that gallops by the Regiments, Viewing their preparations.

Car. Very likely, He shews no less than General: see how bravely The Body moves, and in the head how proudly The Captains stick like plumes: he comes apace on; Good Nennius go, and bid my stout Lieutenant Bring on the first square Body to oppose 'em, And as he charges, open to inclose 'em: The Queen move next with hers, and wheel about, To gain their backs, in which I'll lead the Vantguard. We shall have bloody crowns this day, I see by't; Hast thee good Nennius, I'll follow instantly. [Exit Nennius. How close they march, as if they grew together! [March. No place but lin'd alike: sure from oppression; They will not change this figure: we must charge 'em, And charge 'em home at both ends, Van and Rere,

[Drums in another place afar off.

They never totter else. I hear our Musick, And must attend it: Hold good sword, but this day, And bite hard where I hound thee, and hereafter I'll make a relique of thee, for young Souldiers To come like Pilgrimes to, and kiss for Conquests. [Exit.

Scæna Quarta.

Enter Junius, Curius, and Decius.

Jun. Now is the time, the fellow stays.

Dec. What think ye?

Cur. I think 'tis true.

Jun. Alas, if 'twere a question, If any doubt or hazzard fell into't, Do ye think mine own discretion so self-blind, My care of you so naked, to run headlong?

Dec. Let's take Petillius with us.

Jun. By no means: He's never wise but to himself, nor courteous, But where the end'[s] his own: we are strong enough, If not to[o] many. Behind yonder hill The fellow tells me she attends, weak guarded, Her Mother and her Sister.

Car. I would venture.

Jun. We shall not strike five blows for't, weigh the good, The general good may come.

Dec. Away, I'll with ye, But with what doubt?

Jun. Fear not, my soul for all. [Exeunt.

[Alarms, Drums and Trumpets in several
[places afar off, as at a main Battell.

Scæna Quinta.

Enter Drusus and Penyus above.

Dru. Here ye may see 'em all, Sir; from this hill The Country shews off levell.

Pen. Gods defend me, What multitudes they are, what infinites! The Roman power shews like a little Star Hedg'd with a double hollo. Now the knell rings, [Loud shouts. Heark how they shout to th' battel; how the air Totters and reels, and rends apieces, Drusus, With the huge vollied clamours.

Dru. Now they charge. Oh gods, of all sides, fearfully.

Pen. Little Rome, Stand but this growing Hydra one short hour, And thou hast out-done Hercules.

Dru. The dust hides 'em, We cannot see what follows.

Pen. They are gone, Gone, swallow'd, Drusus, this eternal Sun Shall never see 'em march more.

Dru. O turn this way, And see a modell of the field, some forty, Against four hundred.

Pen. Well fought, bravely follow'd; O nobly charg'd again, charg'd home too: Drusus, They seem to carry it: now they charge all, [Loud. Close, close, I say; they follow it: ye gods, Can there be more in men? more daring spirits? Still they make good their fortunes. Now they are gone too, For ever gone: see Drusus at their backs A fearful Ambush rises. Farewell valours, Excellent valours: O Rome, where's thy wisdome?

Dru. They are gone indeed, Sir.

Pen. Look out toward the Army, I am heavy with these slaughters.

Dru. 'Tis the same still, Covered with dust and fury.

Enter the two Daughters, with Junius, Curius, Decius, and Souldiers.

2 Daugh. Bring 'em in, Tie 'em, and then unarm 'em.

1 Daugh. Valiant Romans, Ye are welcome to your Loves.

2 Daugh. Your death, fools.

Dec. We deserve 'em, And women do your worst.

1 Daugh. Ye need not beg it.

2 Daugh. Which is kind Junius?

Serv. This.

2 Daugh. Are you my sweet heart? It looks ill on't: how long is't, pretty soul, Since you and I first lov'd? Had we not reason To doat extreamly upon one another? How does my Love? this is not he: my chicken Could prate finely, sing a love-song.

Jun. Monster.

2 Daugh. Oh, now it courts.

Jun. Arm'd with more malice Then he that got thee has the divell.

2 Daugh. Good. Proceed, sweet chick.

Jun. I hate thee, that's my last.

2 Daug. Nay, and ye love me, forward: No? Come sister, Let's prick our answers on our arrows points, And make 'em laugh a little. Ye damn'd Leachers, Ye proud improvident fools, have we now caught ye? Are ye i'th' noose? Since ye are such loving creatures, We'll be your Cupids: Do ye see these arrows? We'll send them to your wanton livers, goats.

1 Dau. O how I'll trample on your hearts, ye villains, Ambitious salt-itch slaves: Romes master sins, The mountain Rams topt your hot mothers.

2. Daugh. Dogs, To whose brave founders a salt whore gave suck; Theeves, honors hangmen, do ye grin? perdition Take me for ever, if in my [fell] anger, [Enter Caratach. I do not out-do all example.

Car. Where, Where are these Ladies? ye keep noble quarter, Your Mother thinks ye dead or taken; upon which, She will not move her Battel. Sure these faces I have beheld and known, they are Roman Leaders, How came they here?

2. Daugh. A trick Sir, that we us'd, A certain policy conducted 'em Unto our snare: we have done ye no small service; These us'd as we intend, we are for th' battel,

Car. As you intend? taken by treachery?

1. Daugh. Is't not allow'd?

Car. Those that should gild our Conquest, Make up a Battel worthy of our winning, Catch'd up by craft?

2. Daugh. By any means that's lawfu[l].

Car. A womans wisdom in our triumphs? out, Out ye sluts, ye follies; from our swords Filch our revenges basely? arm again, Gentlemen: Soldiers, I charge ye help 'em.

2. Daugh. By —— Uncle, We will have vengeance for our rapes.

Car. By —— You should have kept your legs close then: dispatch there.

1. Daug. I will not off thus.

Car. He that stirs to execute, Or she, though it be your selves, by him that got me, Shall quickly feel mine anger: one great day given us, Not to be snatch'd out of our hands but basely; And we must shame the gods from whence we have it, With setting snares for Soldiers? I'll run away first, Be hooted at, and children call me coward, Before I set up scales for Victories: Give 'em their swords.

2 Daugh. O gods.

Car. Bear off the women Unto their Mother.

2 Dau. One shot, gentle Uncle.

Car. One cut her fiddle-string: Bear 'em off I say.

1 Dau. The —— take this fortune.

Car. Learn to spin, And curse your knotted hemp: go Gentlemen, [Exeunt Daughters. Safely go off, up to your Troops: be wiser, There thank me like tall Soldiers: I shall seek ye. [Exit Caratach.

Cur. A noble worth.

Dec. Well Junius.

Jun. Pray ye no more.

Cur. He blushes, do not load him.

Dec. Where's your love now? [Drums loud again.

Jun. Puffe, there it flies: Come, let's redeem our follies.

[Exeunt Junius, Curius, Decius.

Dru. Awake, Sir; yet the Roman Bodie's who[l]e, I see 'em clear again.

Pen. Whole? 'tis not possible: Drusus they must be lost.

Dru. By —— they are whole, Sir, And in brave doing; see, they wheel about To gain more ground.

Pen. But see there, Drusus, see, See that huge Battel moving from the mountains, Their gilt coats shine like Dragons scales, their march Like a rough tumbling storm; see them, and view 'em, And then see Rome no more: say they fail; look, Look where the armed carts stand; a new Army: Look how they hang like falling rocks, as murdring Death rides in triumph Drusus: fell destruction Lashes his fiery horse, and round about him His many thousand ways to let out souls. Move me again when they charge, when the mountain Melts under their hot wheels, and from their Ax'trees Huge claps of thunder plough the ground before 'em, Till then I'll dream what Rome was.

Enter Swetonius, Petillius, Demetrius, Macer.

Swet. O bravely fought; honor till now nere show'd Her golden fa[c]e i'th' field. Like Lions, Gentlemen, Y'have held your heads up this day: Where's young Junius, Curius and Decius?

Petill. Gone to heaven, I think, Sir.

Sw. Their worths go with 'em: breathe a while: How do ye?

Pet. Well; some few scurvy wounds, my heart's whole yet.

Dem. Would they would give us more ground.

Swet. Give? we'll have it.

Petill. Have it? and hold it too, despight the devill.

Enter Junius, Decius, Curius.

Jun. Lead up to th' head, and line: sure the Qs. Battell Begins to charge like wild-fire: where's the General?

Swet. Oh, they are living yet. Come my brave soldiers, Come, let me pour Romes blessing on ye; Live, Live, and lead Armies all: ye bleed hard.

Jun. Best: We shall appear the sterner to the foe.

Dec. More wounds, more honor.

Petill. Lose no time.

Swet. Away then, And stand this shock, ye have stood the world.

Petill. Wee'll grow to't. Is not this better than lowsie loving?

Jun. I am my self, Petillius.

Petill. 'Tis I love thee. [Exeunt Romans.

Enter Bonduca, Caratach, Daughters, Nennius.

Car. Charge 'em i'th' flanks: O ye have plaid the fool, The fool extreamly, the mad fool.

Bon. Why Cosin?

Car. The woman fool. Why did you give the word Unto the carts to charge down, and our people In gross before the Enemy? we pay for't, Our own swords cut our throats: why? —— on't; Why do you offer to command? the divell, The divell, and his dam too, who bid you Meddle in mens affairs? [Exeunt Queen, &c.

Bond. I'll help all.

Car. Home, Home and spin woman, spin, go spin, ye trifle. Open before there, or all's ruine. How, [Showts within. Now comes the Tempest; on our selves, by —— [Victoria within. O woman, scurvie woman, beastly woman. [Exeunt.

Dru. Victoria, Victoria.

Pen. How's that, Drusus?

Dru. They win, they win, they win; oh look, look, look, Sir, For heavens sake look, the Britains fly, the Britains fly. Victoria.

Enter Swetonius, Soldiers, and Captains.

Swet. Soft, soft, pursue it soft; excellent Soldiers, Close, my brave fellows, honorable Romans: Oh cool thy mettle Junius, they are ours, The world cannot redeem 'em: stern Petillius, Govern the conquest nobly: soft, good Soldiers. [Exeunt.

Enter Bonduca, Daughters, and Britains.

Bond. Shame, whither flie ye, ye unlucky Britains? Will ye creep into your mothers wombs again? Back cowards. Hares, fearful Hares, Doves in your angers; leave me? Leave your Queen desolate? her hapless children.

Enter Caratach and Hengo.

To Roman rape again and fury?

Car. Flye, ye buzzards, Ye have wings enough, ye fear: get thee gone, woman,

[Loud shout within.

Shame tread upon thy heels; all's lost, all's lost, heark, Heark how the Romans ring our knels. [Ext. Bond., &c.

Hen. Good Uncle, Let me go too.

Car. No boy, th[y] fortune's mine, I must not leave thee; get behind me; shake not,

Enter Petillius, Junius, Decius.

I'll breech ye, if ye do boy: Come, brave Romans, All is not lost yet.

Jun. Now I'll thank thee, Caratach. [Fight. Drums.

Car. Thou art a Soldier: strike home, home, have at ye.

Pen. His blows fall like huge sledges on an anvil.

Dec. I am weary.

Pet. So am I.

Car. Send more swords to me.

Jun. Let's sit and rest. [Sit down.

Dru. What think ye now?

Pen. O Drusus, I have lost mine honor, lost my name, Lost all that was my light: these are true Romans, And I a Britain coward, a base Coward; Guide me where nothing is but desolation, That I may never more behold the face Of Man, or Mankind know me: O blind Fortune, Hast thou abus'd me thus?

Dru. Good Sir, be comforted; It was your wisdom rul'd ye; pray ye go home, Your day is yet to come, when this great fortune Shall be but foil unto it. [Retreat.

Pen. Fool, fool, Coward. [Exit Penyus and Drusus.

Enter Swetonius, Demetrius, Soldiers, Drum and Colours.

Swet. Draw in, draw in: well have you fought, and worthy Romes noble recompence; look to your wounds, The ground is cold and hurtful: the proud Queen Has got a Fort, and there she and her Daughters Defie us once again. To morrow morning Wee'll seek her out, and make her know, our Fortunes Stop at no stubborn walls: Come, sons of honor, True virtues heirs; thus hatch'd with Britain blood, Let's march to rest, and set in gules like Suns. Beat a soft march, and each one ease his neighbours. [Exeunt.

Actus Quartus. Scæna Prima.

Enter Petillius, Junius, Decius, Demetrius singing.

Petill. Smooth was his cheek,

Dec. And his chin it was sleek,

Jun. With whoop, he has done wooing.

Dem. Junius was this Captains name, A lad for a lasses viewing,

Pet. Full black his eye, and plump his thigh,

Dec. Made up for loves pursuing:

Dem. Smooth was his cheeck,

Petill. And his chin it was sleek,

Jun. With whoop, he has done wooing.

Petill. O my vex'd thief, art thou come home again? Are thy brains perfect?

Jun. Sound as bels.

Petill. Thy back-worm Quiet, and cast his sting, boy?

Jun. Dead, Petillius, Dead to all folly, and now my anger only.

Pet. Why, that's well said: hang Cupid and his quiver, A drunken brawling Boy; thy honour'd saint Be thy ten shillings, Junius, there's the money, And there's the ware; square dealing: this but sweats thee Like a Mesh nag, and makes thee look pin buttock'd; The other runs thee whining up and down Like a pig in a storm, fills thy brains full of madness, And shews thee like a long Lent, thy brave body Turn'd to a tail of green-fish without butter.

Dec. When thou lov'st next, love a good cup of Wine, A Mistress for a King, she leaps to kiss thee, Her red and white's her own; she makes good blood, Takes none away; what she heats sleep can help, Without a groping Surgeon.

Jun. I am counsell'd, And henceforth, when I doat again,—

Dem. Take heed, Ye had almost paid for't.

Petill. Love no more great Ladies, Thou canst not step amiss then; there's no delight in 'em; All's in the whistling of their snacht up silks; They're only made for handsome view, not handling; Their bodies of so weak and wash a temper, A rough pac'd bed will shake 'em all to pieces; A tough hen pulls their teeth out, tyres their souls; Plenæ rimarum sunt, they are full of rynnet, And take the skin off where they are tasted; shun 'em, They live in cullisses like rotten cocks Stew'd to a tenderness, that holds no tack: Give me a thing I may crush.

Jun. Thou speak'st truly: The Wars shall be my Mistriss now.

Petil. Well chosen, For she's a bownsing lass, she'll kiss thee at night, boy, And break thy pate i'th' morning.

Jun. Yesterday I found those favors infinite.

Dem. Wench good enough, But that she talks too loud.

Pet. She talks to th' purpose, Which never Woman did yet: she'll hold grapling, And he that layes on best, is her best servant: All other loves are meer catching of dotrels, Stretching of legs out only, and trim laziness. Here comes the General. [Enter Swet., Curius, & Macer.

Swet. I am glad [I] have found ye: Are those come in yet that pursu'd bold Caratach?

Pet. Not yet Sir, for I think they mean to lodge him; Take him I know they dare not, 'twill be dangerous.

Swet. Then haste Petillius, haste to Penyus, I fear the strong conceit of what disgrace Has pull'd upon himself, will be his ruine: I fear his soldiers fury too; haste presently, I would not lose him for all Britain. Give him, Petillius.

Petill. That that shall choak him.

Swet. All the noble counsell, His fault forgiven too, his place, his honor,

Petill. For me, I think, as handsome.

Swet. All the comfort. And tell the Soldier, 'twas on our command He drew not to the Battell.

Petill. I conceive Sir, And will do that shall cure all.

Swet. Bring him with ye Before the Queens Fort, and his Forces with him, There you shall find us following of our Conquest: Make haste.

Petil. The best I may. [Exit.

Swet. And noble Gentlemen, Up to your Companies: we'll presently Upon the Queens pursuit: there's nothing done Till she be seiz'd; without her nothing won. [Exeunt.

[Short flourish.

Scæna Secunda.

Enter Caratach and Hengo.

Car. How does my Boy?

Hen. I would do well, my heart's well; I do not fear.

Car. My good Boy.

Hen. I know, Uncle, We must all dye; my little brother dy'd, I saw him dye, and he dy'd smiling: sure, There's no great pain in't Uncle. But pray tell me, Whither must we go when we are dead?

Car. Strange questions! Why, to the blessed'st place Boy: ever sweetness And happiness dwells there.

Hen. Will you come to me?

Car. Yes, my sweet boy.

Hen. Mine Aunt too, and my Cosins?

Car. All, my good child.

Hen. No Romans, Uncle?

Car. No Boy.

Heng. I should be loath to meet them there.

Car. No ill men, That live by violence, and strong oppression, Come thither: 'tis for those the gods love, good men.

Heng. Why, then I care not when I go; for surely I am perswaded they love me: I never Blasphem'd 'em, Uncle, nor transgrest my parents; I always said my Prayers.

Car. Thou shalt go then, Indeed thou shalt.

Heng. When they please.

Car. That's my good boy. Art thou not weary, Hengo?

Heng. Weary, Uncle? I have heard you say you have march'd all day in Armour.

Car. I have, boy.

Heng. Am not I your Kinsman?

Car. Yes.

Heng. And am not I as fully allyed unto you In those brave things, as blood?

Car. Thou art too tender.

Heng. To go upon my legs? they were made to bear me. I can play twenty mile a day, I see no reason But to preserve my Countrey and my self, I should march forty.

Car. What, wouldst thou be Living to wear a mans strength?

Heng. Why a Caratach, A Roman-hater, a scourge sent from Heaven [Drum. To whip these proud theeves from our Kingdom. Heark, Heark, Uncle, heark, I hear a Drum.

Enter Judas and his people to the door.

Jud. Beat softly, Softly, I say; they are here: who dare charge?

1. Sold. He That dares be knockt o'th' head: I'll not come near him.

Jud. Retire again, and watch then. How he stares! H'as eyes would kill a dragon: mark the boy well; If we could take or kill him. A —— on ye, How fierce ye look! see how he broods the boy; The devil dwels in's scabbard. Back, I say, Apace, apace, h'as found us. [They retire.

Car. Do ye hunt us?

Heng. Uncle, good Uncle see, the thin starv'd Rascal, The eating Roman, see where he thrids the thickets: Kill him, dear Uncle, kill him; one good blow To knock his brains into his breech; strike's head off, That I may piss in's face.

Car. Do ye make us Foxes? Here, hold my charging staff, and keep the place boy. I'am at bay, and like a bull I'll bear me. Stand, stand, ye Rogues, ye Squirrels. [Exit.

Heng. Now he pays 'em: O that I had a mans strength.

Enter Judas, &c.

Jud. Here's the boy; Mine own, I thank my Fortune.

Heng. Uncle, uncle; Famine is faln upon me, uncle.

Jud. Come, Sir, Yield willingly, your Uncle's out of hearing, I'll ticle your young tail else.

Heng. I defie thee, Thou mock-made man of mat: charge home, sirha: Hang thee, base slave, thou shak'st.

Jud. Upon my conscience The boy will beat me: how it looks, how bravely, How confident the worm is: a scabb'd boy To handle me thus? yield or I cut thy head off.

Heng. Thou dar'st not cut my finger: here't is, touch it.

Jud. The boy speaks sword and buckler, Prethee yield, boy: Come, here's an apple, yield.

Heng. By —— he fears me. I'll give you sharper language: When, ye coward, When come ye up?

Jud. If he should beat me—

Heng. When, Sir? I long to kill thee; come, thou can'st not scape me. I have twenty ways to charge thee; twenty deaths Attend my bloody staff.

Jud. Sure 'tis the devil, A dwarf, devil in a doublet.

Heng. I have kill'd a Captain, sirha, a brave Captain, And when I have done, I have kickt him thus. Look here, See how I charge this staff.

Jud. Most certain This boy will cut my throat yet.

Enter two Soldiers running.

1. Sold. Flee, flee, he kills us.

2. Sould. He comes, he comes.

Jud. The devil take the hindmost.

Heng. Run, run, ye Rogues, ye precious Rogues, ye rank Rogues. A comes, a comes, a comes, a comes: that's he, boys. What a brave cry they make!

Enter Caratach with a head.

Car. How does my chicken?

Heng. 'Faith, uncle, grown a Soldier, a great Soldier; For by the virtue of your charging-staff, And a strange fighting face I put upon't, I have out-brav'd hunger.

Car. That's my boy, my sweet boy. Here, here's a Roman's head for thee.

Heng. Good provision. Before I starve, my sweet-fac'd Gentleman, I'll trie your favour.

Car. A right compleat Soldier. Come, chicken, let's go seek some place of strength (The Countrey's full of Scouts) to rest a while in, Thou wilt not else be able to endure The journey to my Countrey, fruits, and water, Must be your food a while, boy.

Heng. Any thing: I can eat moss, I can live on anger, To vex these Romans. Let's be wary, Uncle.

Car. I warrant thee; come chearfully.

Heng. And boldly.

Scæna Tertia.

Enter Penyus, Drusus, and Regulus.

Reg. The soldier shall not grieve ye.

Pen. Pray ye forsake me; Look not upon me, as ye love your Honors; I am so cold a coward, my infection Will choke your virtues like a damp else.

Dru. Dear Captain.

Reg. Most honour'd Sir.

Pen. Most hated, most abhor'd; Say so, and then ye know me, nay, ye please me. O my dear credit, my dear credit.

Reg. Sure His mind is dangerous.

Dru. The good gods cure it.

Pen. My honour got thorow fire, thorow stubborn breaches Thorow Batte[l]s that have been as hard to win as heaven, Thorow death himself, in all his horrid trims, Is gone for ever, ever, ever, Gentlemen, And now I am left to scornfu[l] tales and laughters, To hootings at, pointing with fingers, That's he, That's the brave Gentleman forsook the battel, The most wise Penyus, the disputing coward. O my good sword, break from my side, and kill me; Cut out the coward from my heart.

Reg. Ye are none.

Pen. He lyes that says so: by —— he lyes, lyes basely, Baser than I have done. Come, soldiers, seek me, I have robb'd ye of your virtues: Justice, seek me, I have broke my fair obedience, lost: shame take me, Take me, and swallow me, make ballads of me; Shame, endless shame: and pray do you forsake me.

Dru. What shall we do?

Pen. Good Gentlemen forsake me: You were not wont to be commanded. Friends, pray do it, And do not fear; for as I am a coward I will not hurt my self: when that mind takes me, I'll call to you, and ask your help. I dare not.

Enter Petillius.

Petill. Good morrow, Gentlemen; where's the Tribune?

Reg. There.

Dru. Whence come ye, good Petillius?

Petill. From the General.

Dru. With what, for heavens sake?

Petill. With good counsel, Drusus, And love, to comfort him.

Dru. Good Regulus Step to the Soldier, and allay his anger; For he is wild as winter.

[Exeunt Drusius and Regulus.

Petill. O, are ye there? have at ye. Sure he's dead, It cannot be he dare out-live this fortune: He must die, 'tis most necessary; men expect it; And thought of life in him, goes beyond coward. Forsake the field so basely? fie upon't: So poorly to betray his worth; so coldly To cut all credit from the soldier? sure If this man mean to live, as I should think it Beyond belief, he must retire where never The name of Rome, the voice of Arms, or Honour Was known or heard of yet: he's certain dead, Or strongly means it; he's no Soldier else, No Roman in him; all he has done, but outside, Fought either drunk or desperate. Now he rises. How does Lord Penyus?

Pen. As ye see.

Petill. I am glad on't; Continue so still. The Lord General, The valiant General, great Swetonius—

Pen. No more of me is spoken; my name's perish'd.

Petill. He that commanded fortune and the day By his own valour and discretion, When, as some say, Penyus refused to come, But I believe 'em not, sent me to see ye.

Pen. Ye are welcome; and pray see me; see me well, Ye shall not see me long.

Petill. I hope so, Penyus; The gods defend, Sir.

Pen. See me, and understand me: This is he Left to fill up your triumph; he that basely Whistled his honour off to th' wind; that coldly Shrunk in his politick head, when Rome like reapers Sweat blood, and spirit, for a glorious harvest, And bound it up, and brought it off: that fool, That having gold and copper offer'd him, Refus'd the wealth, and took the wast: that soldier That being courted by loud fame and fortune, Labour in one hand, that propounds us gods, And in the other, glory that creates us, Yet durst doubt, and be damned.

Petill. It was an errour.

Pen. A foul one, and a black one.

Petill. Yet the blackest May be washt white again.

Pen. Never.

Petill. Your leave, Sir, And I beseech ye note me; for I love ye, And bring [along] all comfort: Are we gods, Alli'd to no infirmities? are our natures More than mens natures? when we slip a little Out of the way of virtue, are we lost? Is there no medicine called Sweet mercy?

Pen. None, Petillius; There is no mercy in mankind can reach me, Nor is it fit it should; I have sinn'd beyond it.

Petill. Forgiveness meets with all faults.

Pen. 'Tis all faults, All sins I can commit, to be forgiven: 'Tis loss of whole man in me, my discretion To be so stupid, to arrive at pardon.

Petill. O but the General—

Pen. He's a brave Gentleman, A valiant, and a loving; and I dare say He would, as far as honor durst direct him, Make even with my fault, but 'tis not honest, Nor in his power: examples that may nourish Neglect and disobedience in whole bodies. And totter the estates and faiths of armies, Must not be plaid withall; nor out of pitty Make a General forget his duty: Nor dare I hope more from him than is worthy.

Petill. What would ye do?

Pen. Dye.

Petill. So would sullen children, Women that want their wills, slaves, disobedient, That fear the law, die. Fie, great Captain; you A man to rule men, to have thousand lives Under your Regiment, and let your passion Betray your reason? I bring you all forgiveness, The noblest kind commends, your place, your honour.

Pen. Prethee no more; 'tis foolish: didst not thou? By —— thou didst, I over-heard thee, there, There where thou standst now, deliver me for rascal, Poor, dead, cold coward, miserable, wretched, If I out-liv'd this ruine?

Petill. I?

Pen. And thou di[d]st it nobly, Like a true man, a souldier: and I thank thee, I thank thee, good Petillius; thus I thank thee.

Petill. Since ye are so justly made up, let me tell ye, 'Tis fit ye dye indeed.

Pen. O how thou lov'st me!

Petill. For say he had forgiven ye; say the peoples whispers Were tame again, the time run out for wonder, What must your own Command think, from whose Swords Ye have taken off the edges, from whose valours The due and recompence of Arms; nay, made it doubtful Wh[e]ther they knew obedience? must not these kill ye? Say they are won to pardon ye, by meer miracle Brought to forgive ye; what old valiant Souldier, What man that loves to fight, and fight for Rome, Will ever follow you more? dare ye know these ventures? If so, I bring ye comfort; dare ye take it?

Pen. No, no, Petillius, no.

Petill. If your mind serve ye, Ye may live still; but how? yet pardon me, You may outwear all too, but when? and certain There is a mercy for each fault, if tamely A man will take't upon conditions.

Pen. No, by no means: I am only thinking now, Sir, (For I am resolved to go) of a most base death, Fitting the baseness of my fault. I'll hang.

Petill. Ye shall not; y'are a Gentleman I honor, I would else flatter ye, and force ye live, Which is far baser. Hanging? 'tis a dogs death, An end for slaves.

Pen. The fitter for my baseness.

Petill. Besides, the man that's hang'd, preaches his end, And sits a sign for all the world to gape at.

Pen. That's true: I'll take a fitter poison.

Petill. No, 'Tis equal ill; the death of rats and women, Lovers, and lazie boys, that fear correction, Die like a man.

Pen. Why my sword then.

Petill. I, If your Sword be sharp, Sir, There's nothing under heaven that's like your Sword; Your Sword's a death indeed.

Pen. It shall be sharp, Sir.

Petill. Why Mithridates was an arrant asse To dye by poison, if all Bosphorus Could lend him Swords: your Sword must do the deed: 'Tis shame to dye choak'd, fame to dye and bleed.

Pen. Thou hast confirmed me: and, my good Petillius, Tell me no more I may live.

Petill. 'Twas my Commission; But now I see ye in a nobler way, A way to make all even.

Pen. Fare-well, Captain: Be a good man, and fight well: be obedient: Command thy self, and then thy men. Why shakest thou?

Petill. I do not Sir.

Pen. I would thou hadst, Petillius: I would find something to forsake the world with Worthy the man that dies: a kind of earth-quake Through all stern valors but mine own.

Petill. I feel now A kind of trembling in me.

Pen. Keep it still, As thou lov'st virtue, keep it.

Petill. And brave Captain, The gr[ea]t and honoured Penyus.

Pen. That again: O how it heightens me! again, Petillius.

Petill. Most excellent Commander.

Pen. Those were mine, Mine, only mine.

Petill. They are still.

Pen. Then to keep 'em For ever falling more, have at ye, heavens, Ye everlasting powers, I am yours: The work's done,

[Kills himself.

That neither fire nor age, nor melting envy Shall ever conquer. Carry my last words To the great General: kiss his hands and say, My soul I give to heaven, my fault to justice Which I have done upon my self: my virtue, If ever there was any in Poor Penyus, Made more, and happier, light on him. I faint. And where there is a foe, I wish him fortune. I dye: lye lightly on my ashes, gentle earth.

Petill. And on my sin. Farewell, great Peny[u]s,

[Noise within.

The souldier is in fury. Now I am glad 'Tis done before he comes. This way, for me, The way of toile; for thee, the way of honor. [Exit.

Enter Drusus and Regulus with Souldiers.

Sould. Kill him, kill him, kill him.

Dru. What will ye do?

Reg. Good soldiers, honest soldiers.

Sould. Kill him, kill him, kill him.

Dru. Kill us first; we command too.

Reg. Valiant Soldiers,

Consider but whose life ye seek. O Drusus, Bid him be gone, he dies else. Shall Rome say (Ye most approved Souldiers) her dear children Devoured the fathers of the fights? shall rage And stubborn fury guide those swords to slaughter, To slaughter of their own, to civil ruine?

Dru. O let 'em in: all's done, all's ended, Regulus, Penyus has found his last eclipse. Come, Souldiers, Come, and behold your miseries: come bravely, Full of your mutinous and bloody angers, And here bestow your darts. O only Romane, O father of the Wars.

Reg. Why stand ye stupid? Where be your killing furies? whose sword now Shall first be sheath'd in Penyus? do ye weep? Howl out, ye wretches, ye have cause: howl ever. Who shall now lead ye fortunate? whose valor Preserve ye to the glory of your Countrey? Who shall march out before ye, coy'd and courted By all the Mistrisses of War, care, counsel, Quick-ey'd experience, and victory twin'd to him? Who shall beget ye deeds beyond inheritance To speak your names, and keep your honors living, When children faill, and time that takes all with him, Build houses for ye to oblivion?

Dru. O ye poor desperate fools: no more now, souldiers; Go home, and hang your arms up; let rust rot 'em; And humble your stern valors to soft prayers; For ye have sunk the frame of all your virtues; The sun that warm'd your bloods is set for ever: I'll kiss thy honor'd cheek. Farewell, great Penyus, Thou thunder-bolt, farewell. Take up the body: To morrow morning to the Camp convey it. There to receive due Ceremonies. That eye That blinds himself with weeping, gets most glory.

[Exeunt with a dead march.

Scæna Quarta.

Enter Swetonius, Junius, Decius, Demetrius, Curius, and Souldiers: Bonduca, two Daughters, and Nennius, above. Drum and Colours.

Swet. Bring up the Catapults and shake the wall, We will not be [out-brav'd] thus.

Nen. Shake the earth, Ye cannot shake our souls. Bring up your Rams, And with their armed heads, make the Fort totter; Ye do but rock us into death. [Exit Nennius.

Jun. See, Sir, See the Icenian Queen in all her glory From the strong battlements proudly appearing, As if she meant to give us lashes.

Dec. Yeild, Queen.

Bond. I am unacquainted with that language, Roman.

Swet. Yield honour'd Lady, and expect our mercy, [Exit Decius. We love thy nobleness.

Bond. I thank ye, ye say well; But mercy and love are sins in Rome and hell.

Swet. Ye cannot scape our strength; ye must yield, Lady, Ye must adore and fear the power of Rome.

[B]ond. If Rome be earthly, why should any knee With bending adoration worship her? She's vitious; and your partial selves confess, Aspires the height of all impiety: Therefore 'tis fitter I should reverence The thatched houses where the Britains dwell In careless mirth, where the blest houshold gods See nought but chast and simple purity. 'Tis not high power that makes a place divine, Nor that the men from gods derive their line. But sacred thoughts in holy bosoms stor'd, Make people noble, and the place ador'd.

Swet. Beat the wall deeper.

Bond. Beat it to the center, We will not sink one thought.

Swet. I'll make ye.

Bond. No.

2. Dau. O mother, these are fearful hours: speak gently.

Enter Petillius.

To these fierce men, they will afford ye pitty.

Bond. Pitty? thou fearful girl; 'tis for those wretches That misery makes tame. Wouldst thou live less? Wast not thou born a Princess? Can my blood, And thy brave fathers spirit, suffer in thee So base a separation from thy self, As mercy from these Tyrants? Thou lov'st lust sure, And long'st to prostitute thy youth and beauty To common slaves for bread. Say they had mercy; The divel a relenting conscience: The lives of Kings rest in their Diadems, Which to their bodies lively souls do give, And ceasing to be Kings, they cease to live. Show such another fear, and —— I'll fling thee to their fury.

Swet. He is dead then?

Petill. I think so certainly; yet all my means, Sir, Even to the hazzard of my life—

Swet. No more: We must not seem to mourn here.

Enter Decius.

Dec. There's a breach made, Is it your will we charge, Sir?

Swet. Once more mercy, Mercy to all that yield.

Bond. I scorn to answer: Speak to him girl; and hear thy Sister.

1. Dau. General, Hear me, and mark me well, and look upon me Directly in my face, my womans face. Whose only beauty is the hate it bears ye; See with thy narrowest eyes, thy sharpest wishes, Into my soul, and see what there inhabits; See if one fear, one shadow of a terror, One paleness dare appear but from my anger, To lay hold on your mercies. No, ye fools, Poor fortunes fools, we were not born for triumphs, To follow your gay sports, and fill your slaves With hoots and acclamations.

Petill. Brave behaviour.

1. Dau. The children of as great as Rome, as noble, Our names before her, and our deeds her envy; Must we guild ore your Conquest, make your State, That is not fairly strong, but fortunate? No, no, ye Romans, we have ways to scape ye, To make ye poor again, indeed our prisoners, And stick our triumphs full.

Petill. 's death, I shall love her.

1. Dau. To torture ye with suffering, like our slaves; To make ye curse our patience, wish the world Were lost again, to win us only, and esteem The end of all ambitions.

Bond. Do ye wonder? We'll make our monuments in spite of fortune, In spight of all your Eagles wings: we'll work A pitch above ye; and from our height we'll stoop As fearless of your bloody soars; and fortunate, As if we prey'd on heartless doves.

Swet. Strange stiffness. Decius, go charge the breach. [Exit Decius.

Bond. Charge it home, Roman, We shall deceive thee else. Where's Nennius?

Enter Nennius.

Nen. They have made a mighty breach.

Bond. Stick in thy body, And make it good but half an hour.

Nen. I'll do it.

1. Dau. And then be sure to dye.

Nen. It shall go hard else.

Bond. Fare well with all my heart; we shall meet yonder, Where few of these must come.

Nen. Gods take thee, Lady. [Exit Nennius.

Bond. Bring up the swords, and poison.

Enter one with Swords, and a great Cup.

2. Dau. O my fortune!

Bond. How, how, ye whore?

2. Dau. Good mother, nothing to offend ye.

Bond. Here, wench: Behold us, Romans.

Swet. Mercy yet.

Bond. No talking: Puff, there goes all your pitty. Come, short prayers, And let's dispach the business: you begin, Shrink not; I'll see ye do't.

2. Dau. O gentle mother, O Romans, O my heart; I dare not.

Swet. Woman, woman, Unnatural woman.

2. Dau. O perswade her, Romans: Alass, I am young, and would live. Noble mother, Can ye kill that ye gave life? are my years Fit for destruction?

Swet. Yield, and be a Queen still, A mother and a friend.

Bond. Ye talk: come, hold it, And put it home.

1. Dau. Fie, sister, fie, What would you live to be?

Bond. A whore still.

2. Dau. Mercy.

Swet. Hear her, thou wretched woman.

2. Dau. Mercy, mother: O whither will you send me? I was once Your darling, your delight.

Bond. O gods, Fear in my family? do it, and nobly.

2. Dau. O do not frown then.

1. Daugh. Do it, worthy Sister: 'Tis nothing, 'tis a pleasure; we'll go with ye.

2. Daugh. O if I knew but whither.

1. Daugh. To the blessed, Where we shall meet our Father.

Swet. Woman.

Bond. Talk not.

1. Daugh. Where nothing but true joy is.

Bond. That's a good wench, mine own sweet girl; put it close to thee.

2. Daugh. Oh comfort me still for heavens sake.

1. Daugh. Where eternal Our youths are, and our beauties; where no Wars come, Nor lustful slaves to ravish us.

2. Daugh. That steels me: A long farewel to this world.

Bond. Good: I'll help thee.

1 Daugh. The next is mine. Shew me a Roman Lady in all [y]our stories, Dare do this for her honor: they are cowards, Eat coals like compell'd Cats: your great Saint Lucrece Dy'd not for honor; Tarquin topt her well, And mad she could not hold him, bled.

Petil. By —— [I] am in love: I would give an hundred pound now But to lie with this womans behaviour. Oh the devil.

1 Daugh. Ye shall see me example, All your Rome, If I were proud and lov'd ambition; If I were lustful, all your ways of pleasure; If I were greedy, all the wealth ye conquer—

Bond. Make haste.

1 Daugh. I will. Could not intice to live But two short hours this frailty: would ye learn How to die bravely Romans, to fling off This case of flesh, lose all your cares for ever? Live as we have done, well, and fear the gods, Hunt Honor, and not Nations with your swords, Keep your minds humble, your devotions high; So shall ye learn the noblest part, to die. [Dies.

B[o]nd. I come, wench; to ye all Fates hangmen; you That ease the aged destinies, and cut The threds of Kingdoms, as they draw 'em: here, Here's the draft would ask no less than Cæsar To pledge it for the glories sake.

Cur. Great Lady.

Swet. Make up your own conditions.

Bond. So we will.

Swet. Stay.

Dem. Stay.

Swet. Be any thing.

Bond. A Saint, Swetonius, When thou shalt fear, and die like a slave. Ye fools, Ye should have ti'd up death first, when ye conquer'd, Ye sweat for us in vain else: see him here, He's ours still, and our friend; laughs at your pities; And we command him with as easie reins As do our enemies. I feel the poison. Poor vanquish'd Romans, with what matchless tortures Could I now rack ye! But I pittie ye, Desiring to die quiet: nay, so much I hate to prosecute my victory, That I will give ye counsel e'r I die. If you will keep your Laws and Empire whole, Place in your Romans flesh, a Britain soul. [Dies.

Enter Decius.

Swet. Desperate and strange.

Dec. 'Tis won, Sir, and the Britains All put to th' sword.

Swet. Give her fair Funeral; She was truly noble, and a Queen.

Pet. —— Take it, A Love-mange grown upon me? what, a spirit?

Jun. I am glad of this, I have found ye.

Petil. In my belly, Oh how it tumbles!

Jun. Ye good gods, I thank ye. [Exeunt.

Actus Quintus. Scæna Prima.

Enter Caratach upon a rock, and Hengo by him, sleeping.

Car. Thus we afflicted Britains climb for safeties, And to avoid our dangers, seek destructions; Thus we awake to sorrows. O thou Woman, Thou agent for adversities, what curses This day belong to thy improvidence! To Britanie by thy means, what sad millions Of Widows weeping eyes! The strong mans valour Thou hast betraid to fury; the childs fortune To fear and want of friends: whose pieties Might wipe his mournings off, and build his sorrows A house of rest by his blest Ancestors: The Virgins thou hast rob'd of all their wishes, Blasted their blowing hopes, turn'd their songs, Their mirthful marriage-son[g]s to funerals, The Land thou hast left a wilderness of wretches. The boy begins to stir: thy safety made, Would my soul were in Heaven.

Heng. O noble Uncle, Look out: I dream'd we were betrai'd.

[A soft dead march within.

Car. No harm, boy; 'Tis but thy emptiness that breeds these fancies: Thou shalt have meat anon.

Heng. A little, Uncle, And I shall hold out bravely. What are those? Look, Uncle, look, those multitudes that march there? They come upon us stealing by.

Car. I see 'em; And prethee be not fearful.

Heng. Now ye hate me, Would I were dead.

Car. Thou know'st I love thee dearly.

Heng. Did I e'r shrink yet, Uncle? were I a man now; I should be angry with ye.

Enter Drusus, Regulus, and Soldiers, with Penyus's Herse, Drums and Colours.

Car. My sweet chicken, See, they have reach'd us, and as it seems they bear Some soldiers body, by their solemn gestures, And sad solemnities; it well appears too To be of eminence. Most worthy Soldiers, Let me intreat your knowledge to inform me What noble Body that is which you bear With such a sad and ceremonious grief, As if ye meant to wooe the World and Nature To be in love with death? Most honorable Excellent Romans, by your antient valours, As ye love Fame, resolve me.

Sold. 'Tis the Body Of the great Captain Penyus, by himself Made cold and spiritless.

Car. O stay, ye Romans, By the Religion which you owe those gods That lead ye on to Victories, by those glories Which made even pride a virtue in ye.

Dru. Stay: What's thy Will, Caratach?

Car. Set down the body, The body of the noblest of all Romans, As ye expect an offering at your Graves From your friends sorrows, set it down awhile. That with your griefs an enemy may mingle; A noble enemy that loves a Soldier; And lend a tear to virtue, even your foes, Your wild foes, as you call'd us, are yet stor'd With fair affections, our hearts fresh, our spirits, Though sometime stubborn, yet when virtue dies, Soft and relenting as a Virgins prayers, Oh set it down.

Dru. Set down the body, so[l]diers.

Car. Thou hallowed relique, thou rich Diamond Cut with thine own dust; thou for whose wide fame The world appears too narrow, mans all thoughts, Had they all tongues, too silent; thus I bow To thy most honour'd ashes: though an enemy, Yet friend to all thy worths: sleep peaceably; Happiness crown thy soul, and in thy earth Some Lawrel fix his seat, there grow, and flourish, And make thy grave an everlasting triumph. Farewell all glorious Wars, now thou art gone, And honest Arms adieu: all noble battels Maintain'd in thirst of honour, not of bloud, Farewell for ever.

Heng. Was this Roman, Uncle, So good a man?

Car. Thou never knew'st thy Father.

Heng. He dy'd before I was born.

Car. This worthy Roman Was such another piece of endless honor, Such a brave soul dwelt in him: their proportions And faces were not much unlik, boy, excellent nature, See how it works into his eyes, mine own boy.

Heng. The multitudes of these men, and their fortunes, Could never make me fear yet: one mans goodness—

Car. O now thou pleasest me: weep still, my child, As if thou saw'st me dead; with such a flux Or flood of sorrow: still thou pleasest me. And worthy soldiers, pray receive these pledges, These hatchments of our griefs, and grace us so much To place 'em on his Hearse. Now if ye please, Bear off the noble burden; raise his pile High as Olympus, make heaven to wonder To see a star upon earth out-shining theirs. And ever loved, ever living be Thy honoured and most sacred memory.

Dru. Thou hast done honestly, good Caratach, And when thou diest, a thousand virtuous Romans Shall sing thy soul to heaven. Now march on, soldiers.

[Exeunt. A dead march.

Car. Now dry thine eyes, my boy.

Heng. Are they all gone? I could have wept this hour yet.

Car. Come, take cheer, And raise thy spirit, child: if but this day Thou canst bear out thy faintness, the night coming I'll fashion our escape.

Heng. Pray fear not me; Indeed I am very hearty.

Car. Be so still; His mischiefs lessen, that controuls his ill. [Exeunt.

Scæna Secunda.

Enter Petillius.

Pet. What do I ail, i'th' name of heaven I did but see her, And see her die: she stinks by this time strongly, Abominably stinks: she was a woman, A thing I never car'd for: but to die so, So confidently, bravely, strongly; Oh the devil, I have the bots, by —— she scorn'd us strangely, All we could do, or durst do; threatned us With such a noble anger, and so governed With such a fiery spirit ——; the plain bots; A —— upon the bots, the love-bots: hang me, Hang me even out o'th' way, directly hang me. Oh penny pipers, and most painful penners Of bountiful new Ballads, what a subject, What a sweet subject for your silver sounds, Is crept upon ye!

Enter Junius.

Jun. Here he is; have at him. [Sings.

She set the sword unto her Breast, great pity it was to see, That three drops of her Life-warm bloud, run trickling down her knee.

Art thou there, bonny boy? and i'faith how dost thou?

Petil. Well, gramercie, how dost thou? h'as found me, Sented me out: the shame the devil ow'd me. H'as kept his day with. And what news, Junius?

Jun. It was an old tale ten thousand times told, Of a young Lady was turned into mold, Her life it was lovely, her death it was bold.

Pet. A cruel rogue, now h'as [drawn pursue on] me, He hunts me like a devil. No more singing; Thou hast got a cold: come, let's go drink some Sack, boy.

Jun. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.

Pet. Why dost thou laugh? What Mares nest hast thou found?

Jun. Ha, ha, ha. I cannot laugh alone: Decius, Demetrius, Curius, oh my sides, Ha, ha, ha, The strangest jest.

Petil. Prethee no more.

Jun. The admirablest fooling.

Pet. Thou art the prettiest fellow.

Jun. Sirs.

Pet. Why Junius; Prethee away, sweet Junius.

Jun. Let me sing then.

Pet. Whoa, here's a stir now: sing a song o' six pence, By —— (if) prethee; —— on't: Junius.

Jun. I must either sing; or laugh.

Pet. And what's your reason?

Jun. What's that to you?

Pet. And I must whistle.

Jun. Do so. Oh, I hear 'em coming.

Pet. I have a little business.

Jun. Thou shall not go, believe it: what a Gentleman Of thy sweet conversation?

Pet. Captain Junius, Sweet Captain, let me go with all celerity; Things are not always one: and do not question, Nor jeer, nor gybe: none of your doleful Ditties, Nor your sweet conversation, you will find then I may be anger'd.

Jun. By no means, Petillius; Anger a man that never knew passion? 'Tis most impossible: a noble Captain, A wise [and] generous Gentleman?

Pet. Tom Puppie. Leave this way to abuse me: I have found ye, But for your mothers sake I will forgive ye. Your subtil understanding may discover (As you think) some trim toy to make you merry; Some straw to tickle ye; but do not trust to't; Y' are a young man, and may do well: be sober: Carry your self discreetly.

Enter Decius, Demetrius, Curius.

Jun. Yes forsooth.

Dem. How does the brave Petillius?

Jun. Monstrous merry: We two were talking what a kind of thing I was when I was in love; what a strange monster For little Boys and Girls to wonder at; How like a fool I lookt.

Dec. So they do all, Like great dull slavering fools.

Jun. Petillius saw too.

Pet. No more of this, 'tis scurvie, peace.

Jun. How nastily, Indeed, how beastly all I did became me! How I forgot to blow my nose! there he stands, An honest and a wise man; if himself (I dare avouch it boldly, for I know it) Should find himself in love—

Petill. I am angry.

Jun. Surely his wise self would hang his beastly self, His understanding-self so mawl his ass-self—

Dec. He's bound to do it; for he knows the follies, The poverties, and baseness that belongs to't, H'as read upon the reformations long.

Petill. He has so.

Jun. 'Tis true, and he must do't: Nor is it fit indeed any such coward—

Petill. You'll leave prating.

Jun. Should dare come near the Regiments, especially Those curious puppies (for believe there are such) That only love behaviours: those are dog-whelps, Dwindle away, because a Woman dies well; Commit with passions only: fornicate With the free spirit merely: you, Petillius, For you have long observ'd the World.

Petill. Dost thou hear? I'll beat thee damnably within these three hours: Go pray; may be I'll kill thee. Farewel Jack-daws. [Exit.

Dec. What a strange thing he's grown!

Jun. I am glad he is so; And stranger he shall be before I leave him.

Cur. Is't possible her mere death—

Jun. I observ'd him, And found him taken, infinitely taken With her bravery, I have follow'd him, And seen him kiss his sword since, court his scabbard, Call dying, dainty deer; her brave mind, Mistriss; Casting a thousand ways, to give those forms, That he might lie with 'em, and get old Armors: He had got me o' th' hip once: it shall go hard, friends, But he shall find his own coin.

Enter Macer.

Dec. How now Macer? Is Judas yet come in? [Enter Judas.

Mac. Yes, and has lost Most of his men too. Here he is.

Car. What news?

Jud. I have lodg'd him; rouze him he that dares.

Dem. Where, Judas?

Jud. On a steep rock i'th' woods, the boy too with him, And there he swears he will keep his Christmas Gentlemen, But he will come away with full conditions, Bravely, and like a Britain: he paid part of us. Yet I think we fought bravely: for mine own part, I was four several times at half sword with him, Twice stood his partizan: but the plain truth is, He's a meer devil, and no man; i'th' end he swing'd us, And swing'd us soundly too, he fights by Witchcraft: Yet for all that I see him lodg'd.

Jun. Take more men, And scout him round. Macer, march you along. What victuals has he?

Jud. Not a piece of Bisket, Not so much as will stop a tooth; nor Water, More than they make themselves: they lie Just like a brace of Bear-whelps, close, and crafty, Sucking their fingers for their food.

Dec. Cut off then All hope of that way: take sufficie[n]t forces.

Jun. But use no foul play, on your lives: that man That does him mischief by deceit, I'll kill him.

Macer. He shall have fair play, he deserves it.

Jud. Hark ye. What should I do there then? you are brave Captains, Most valiant men; go up your selves; use virtue, See what will come on't: pray the Gentleman To come down, and be taken. Ye all know him, I think ye have felt him too: there ye shall find him, His sword by his side, plums of a pound weight by him Will make your chops ake: you'll find it a more labour To win him living, than climbing of a Crows-nest.

Dec. Away, and compass him; we shall come up I am sure within these two hours. Watch him close.

Macer. He shall flee thorow the air, if he escape us.

[A sad noise within.

Jun. What's this loud lamentation?

Mac. The dead body Of the great Penyus is new come to the Camp, Sir.

Dem. Dead!

Macer. By himself, they say.

Jun. I fear'd that fortune.

Cur. Peace guide him up to heaven.

Jun. Away good Macer. [Exeunt Macer and Judas.

Enter Swetonius, Drusus, Regulus, Petillius.

Swet. If thou be'st guilty, Some sullen plague thou hat'st most light upon thee: The Regiment return on Junius, He well deserves it.

Petill. So.

Swet. Draw out three Companies, Yours Decius, Junius, and thou Petillius, And make up instantly to Caratach, He's in the Wood before ye; we shall follow After due ceremony done to the dead, The noble dead: Come: let's go burn the Body.

[Exeunt all but Petillius.

Petill. The Regiment given from me; disgrac'd openly; In love too with a trifle to abuse me? A merry world, a fine world: serv'd seven years To be an ass o' both sides, sweet Petillius, You have brought your hogs to a fine market; you are wise, Sir, Your honourable brain-pan full of crotchets, An understanding Gentleman; your projects Cast with assurance ever: wouldst not thou now Be bang'd about the pate, Petillius Answer to that sweet soldier; surely, surely, I think ye would; pull'd by the nose, kick'd; hang thee, Thou art the arrant'st Rascal: trust thy wisdom With any thing of weight; the wind with feathers. Out ye blind puppie; you command? you govern? Dig for a groat a day, or serve a Swine-herd; Too noble for thy nature too. I must up; But what I shall do there, let time discover. [Exit.

Scæna Tertia.

Enter Macer and Judas, with meat and a bottle.