The False One: A Tragedy

Pho. So penitent?

Achil. It seems so.

Pho. Yet for all this

We must employ him.

1 Sol. These are the arm'd Souldier leaders:

Away: and let's toth' Fort, we shall be snapt else. [Exeunt.

Pho. How now? why thus? what cause of this dejection?

Achil. Why dost thou weep?

Sep. Pray leave me, you have ruin'd me,

You have made me a famous Villain.

Pho. Does that touch thee?

Achil. He will be hard to win: he feels his lewdness.

Pho. He must be won, or we shall want our right hand.

This fellow dares, and knows, and must be heartned.

Art thou so poor to blench at what thou hast done?

Is Conscience a comrade for an old Soldier?

Achil. It is not that: it may be some disgrace

That he takes heavily; and would be cherish'd,

Septimius ever scorn'd to shew such weakness.

Sep. Let me alone; I am not for your purpose,

I am now a new man.

Pho. We have new affairs for thee,

Those that would raise thy head.

Sep. I would 'twere off,

And in your bellies for the love you bear me.

I'le be no more Knave: I have stings enough

Already in my breast.

Pho. Thou shalt be noble:

And who dares think then that thou art not honest?

Achil. Thou shalt command in Chief, all our strong Forces

And if thou serv'st an use, must not all justifie it?

S[e]p. I am Rogue enough.

Pho. Thou wilt be more, and baser:

A poor Rogue is all Rogues: open to all shames:

Nothing to shadow him: dost thou think crying

Can keep thee from the censure of the Multitude?

Or to be kneeling at the altar save thee?

'Tis poor and servile:

Wert thou thine own Sacrifice

'Twould seem so low, people would spit the fire out.

Achil. Keep thy self glorious still, though ne're so stain'd,

And that will lessen it, if not work it out.

To goe complaining thus, and thus repenting

Like a poor Girl that had betrai'd her maideⁿ-head—

Sep. I'le stop mine ears.

Achil. Will shew so in a Souldier,

So simply, and so ridiculously, so tamely—

Pho. If people would believe thee, 'twere some honesty,

And for thy penitence would not laugh at thee

(As sure they will) and beat thee for thy poverty:

If they would allow thy foolery, there were some hope.

Sep. My foolery?

Pho. Nay, more than that, thy misery,

Thy monstrous misery.

A[c]hil. He begins to hearken:

Thy misery so great, men will not bury thee.

Sep. That this were true!

Pho. Why does this conquering Cæsar

Labour through the worlds deep Seas of toyls and troubles,

Dangers, and desperate hopes? to repent afterwards?

Why does he slaughter thousands in a Battel,

And whip his Country with the sword? to cry for't?

Thou killd'st great Pompey; he'l kill all his kindred,

And justifie it: nay raise up Trophies to it.

When thou hear'st him repent, (he's held most holy too)

And cry for doing daily bloody murthers,

Take thou example, and go ask forgiveness,

Call up the thing thou nam'st thy conscience,

And let it work: then 'twill seem well Septimius.

Sep. He does all this.

Achil. Yes: and is honour'd for it;

Nay call'd the honour'd Cæsar, so maist thou be:

Thou wert born as near a Crown as he.

Sep. He was poor.

Pho. And desperate bloody tricks got him this credit.

Sep. I am afraid you will once more—

Pho. Help to raise thee:

Off with thy pining black, it dulls a Souldier,

And put on resolution like a man,

A noble Fate waits on thee.

Sep. I now feel

My self returning Rascal speedily.

O that I had the power—

Achil. Thou shalt have all:

And do all through thy power, men shall admire thee,

And the vices of Septimius shall turn vertues.

Sep. Off: off: thou must off: off my cowardize,

Puling repentance off.

Pho. Now thou speakst nobly.

Sep. Off my dejected looks: and welcom impudence:

My daring shall be Deity, to save me:

Give me instructions, and put action on me:

A glorious cause upon my swords point, Gentlemen,

And let my wit, and valour work: you will raise me,

And make me out-dare all my miseries?

Pho. All this, and all thy wishes.

Sep. Use me then,

Womanish fear farewell: I'le never melt more,

Lead on, to some great thing, to wake my spirit:

I cut the Cedar Pompey, and I'le fell

This huge Oak Cæsar too.

Pho. Now thou singst sweetly:

And Ptolomy shall crown thee for thy service.

Achil. He's well wrought: put him on apace for cooling.

[Exeunt.

Ant. The tumult still encreases.

Cæsar. O my fortune!

My lustfull folly rather! but 'tis well,

And worthily I am made a bondsmans prey,

That after all my glorious victories,

In which I pass'd so many Seas of dangers,

When all the Elements conspir'd against me,

Would yield up the dominion of this head

To any mortal power: so blind and stupid,

To trust these base Egyptians, that proclaim'd

Their perjuries, in noble Pompeys death,

And yet that could not warn me.

Dol. Be still Cæsar,

Who ever lov'd to exercise his fate,

Where danger look't most dreadful.

Ant. If you fall,

Fall not alone: let the King and his Sister

Be buried in your ruines: on my life

They both are guilty: reason may assure you

Photinus nor Achillas durst attempt you,

Or shake one Dart, or sword, aim'd at your safety,

Without their warrant.

Cæsar. For the young King I know not

How he may be misled; but for his Sister

(Unequall'd Cleopatra) 'twere a kind

Of blasphemy to doubt her: ugly treason

Durst never dwell in such a glorious building,

Nor can so clear and great a spirit, as hers is,

Admit of falsehood.

Ant. Let us seize on him then:

And leave her to her fortune.

Dol. If he have power

Use it to your security, and let

His honesty acquit him: if he be false

It is too great an honour he should dye

By your victorious hand.

Cæsar. He comes: and I

Shall do as I find cause.

Ptol. Let not great Cæsar

Impute the breach of hospitality,

To you (my guest) to me; I am contemn'd,

And my rebellious subjects lift their hands

Against my head: and would they aim'd no farther,

Provided that I fell a sacrifice

To gain you safety: that this is not feign'd,

The boldness of my innocence may confirm you:

Had I been privy to their bloody plot,

I now had led them on, and given fair gloss

To their bad cause, by being present with them:

But I that yet taste of the punishment,

In being false to Pompey, will not make

A second fault to Cæsar uncompel'd

With such as have not yet shook off obedience,

I yield my self to you, and will take part

In all your dangers.

Cæsar. This pleads your excuse,

And I receive it.

Ach. If they have any touch

Of justice, or religion, I will use

The authority of our Gods, to call them back

From their bad purpose.

Apo. This part of the palace

Is yet defensible: we may make it good,

Till your powers rescue us.

Cæsar. Cæsar besieg'd?

O stain to my great actions: 'twas my custom,

An Army routed, as my feet had wings

To be first in the chase: nor walls, nor Bulworks

Could guard those that escap'd the Battels fury

From this strong Arm; and I to be enclos'd?

My heart! my heart! but 'tis necessity,

To which the Gods must yield, and I obey,

'Till I redeem it by some glorious way. [Exeunt.

Pho. There's no retiring now, we are broke in:

The deed past hope of pardon: if we prosper

'Twill be stil'd lawful!, and we shall give laws

To those that now command us: stop not at

Or loyalty, or duty: bold ambition,

To dare and power to do, gave the first difference

Between the King, and subject, Cæsars Motto,

Aut Cæsar aut Nihil, each of us must claim,

And use it as our own.

Achil. The deed is bloody

If we conclude in Ptolomies death.

Pho. The better,

The globe of Empire must be so manur'd.

Sep. Rome, that from Romulus first took her name,

Had her walls water'd with a Crimson showr

Drain'd from a Brothers heart: nor was she rais'd

To this prodigious height, that overlooks

Three full parts of the Earth, that pay her tribute,

But by enlarging of her ⁿarrow bounds

By the Sack of Neighbour Cities, not made hers

Till they were Cemented with the Blood of those

That did possess 'em: Cæsar, Ptolomy,

(Now I am steel'd) to me are empty names

Esteem'd as Pompeys was.

Pho. Well said Septimius,

Thou now art right again.

Achil. But what course take we

For the Princess Cleopatra?

Pho. Let her live

Awhile to make us sport: she shall authorize

Our undertakings to the ignorant people,

As if what we do were by her command:

But our triumvirat Government once confirm'd,

She bears her Brother company, that's my Province:

Leave me to work her.

Achil. I will undertake

For Ptolomy.

Sep. Cæsar shall be my task,

And as in Pompey I began a name

I'le perfect it in Cæsar.

Pho. 'Tis resolv'd then,

We'll force our passage.

Achil. See, they do appear

As they desir'd a Parley.

Pho. I am proud yet

I have brought 'em to capitulate.

Ptol. Now, Photinus?

Pho. Now, Ptolomy?

Ptol. No addition?

Pho. We are equal,

Though Cæsars name were put into the scale,

In which our worth is weigh'd.

Cæs. Presumptuous Villain,

Upon what grounds hast thou presum'd to raise

Thy servile hand against the King, or me,

That have a greater name?

Pho. On those, by which

Thou didst presume to pass the Rubicon

Against the Laws of Rome; and at the name

Of Traitor smile; as thou didst when Marcellus,

The Consul, with the Senates full consent

Pronounc'd thee for an Enemy to thy Country,

Yet thou wentst on, and thy rebellious Cause

Was crown'd with fair success: Why should we fear then?

Think on that, Cæsar.

Cæs. O the gods! be brav'd thus,

And be compell'd to bear this from a Slave

That would not brook Great Pompey his Superiour?

Achil. Thy glories now have toucht the highest point,

And must descend.

Pho. Despair, and think we stand

The Champions of Rome, to wreak her wrongs,

Upon whose liberty thou hast set thy foot.

Sept. And that the Ghosts of all those noble Romans

That by thy Sword fell in this Civil War

Expect revenge.

Ant. Dar'st thou speak, and remember

There was a Pompey?

Pho. There is no hope to 'scape us:

If that against the odds we have upon you

You dare come forth, and fight, receive the honour

To dye like Romans, if ye faint, resolve

To starve like Wretches; I disdain to change

Another syllable with you. [Exeunt.

Ant. Let us dye nobly;

And rather fall upon each others Sword

Than come into these Villains hands.

Cæs. That Fortune,

Which to this hour hath been a Friend to Cæsar,

Though for a while she cloath her Brow with frowns,

Will smile again upon me: who will pay her,

Or sacrifice, or Vows, if she forsake

Her best of works in me? or suffer him,

Whom with a strong hand she hath led triumphant

Through the whole western world, and Rome acknowledg'd

Her Soveraign Lord, to end in-gloriously

A life admir'd by all? The threatned danger

Must by a way more horrid be avoided,

And I will run the hazard; Fire the Palace,

And the rich Magazines that neighbour it,

In which the Wealth of Egypt is contain'd:

Start not, it shall be so; that while the people

Labour in quenching the ensuing flames,

Like Cæsar, with this handful of my friends

Through Fire, and Swords I force a passage to

My conquering Legions. King, if thou dar'd follow

Where Cæsar leads, or live or dye a Free-man;

If not, stay here a Bond-man to thy Slave,

And dead, be thought unworthy of a Grave. [Exeunt.

Sept. I feel my resolution melts again

And that I am not Knave alone, but fool,

In all my purposes. The Devil, Photinus,

Employs me as a Property, and grown useless

Will shake me off again; he told me so

When I kill'd Pompey; nor can I hope better,

When Cæsar is dispatch'd; Services done

For such as only study their own ends,

Too great to be rewarded, are return'd

With deadly hate; I learn'd this Principle

In his own School, yet still he fools me, well;

And yet he trusts me: Since I in my nature

Was fashion'd to be false, wherefore should I

That kill'd my General, and a Roman, one

To whom I ow'd all nourishments of life,

Be true to an Egyptian? To save Cæsar,

And turn Photinus's plots on his own head,

As it is in my power, redeem my credit,

And live to lye and swear again in fashion,

Oh, 'twere a master-piece! ha!—me Cæsar,

How's he got off?

Cæs. The fire has took,

And shews the City like a second Troy,

The Navy too is scorch'd, the people greedy

To save their Wealth and Houses, whilst their Souldiers

Make spoil of all; only Achillas's Troops

Make good their Guard, break through them, we are safe;

I'll lead you like a Thunder-bolt.

Sept. Stay, Cæsar.

Cæs. Who's this? the Dog, Septimius?

Ant. Cut his throat.

Dol. You bark'd but now, fawn you so soon?

Sept. O hear me,

What I'll deliver is for Cæsars safety,

For all your good.

Ant. Good from a mouth like thine,

That never belch'd but blasphemy, and treason on Festival days!

Sept. I am an altered man, altered indeed,

And will give you cause to say I am a Roman.

Dol. Rogue, I grant thee.

Sept. Trust me, I'll make the passage smooth, and easie

For your escape.

Ant. I'll trust the Devil sooner,

And make a safer Bargain.

Sept. I am trusted

With all Photinus's secrets.

Ant. There's no doubt then

Thou wilt be false.

Sept. Still to be true to you.

Dol. And very likely.

Cæs. Be brief, the means?

Sept. Thus, Cæsar,

To me alone, but bound by terrible oaths

Not to discover it, he hath reveal'd

A dismal Vault, whose dreadful mouth does open

A mile beyond the City: in this Cave

Lye but two hours conceal'd.

Ant. If you believe him,

He'll bury us alive.

Dol. I'll flye in the Air first.

Sept. Then in the dead of night I'll bring you back

Into a private room, where you shall find

Photinus, and Achillas, and the rest

Of their Commanders close at Council.

Cæs. Good, what follows?

Sept. Fall me fairly on their throats,

Their heads cut off and shorn, the multitude

Will easily disperse.

Cæs. O Devil! away with him;

Nor true to Friend nor Enemy? Cæsar scorns

To find his safety, or revenge his wrongs

So base a way; or owe the means of life

To such a leprous Traytor, I have towr'd

For Victory like a Faulcon in the Clouds,

Nor dig'd for't like a Mole; our Swords and Cause

Make way for us, and that it may appear

We took a noble Course, and hate base Treason,

Some Souldiers that would merit Cæsar's favour,

Hang him on yonder Turret, and then follow

The lane this Sword makes for you. [Exit.

1 Sold. Here's a Belt,

Though I dye for it I'll use it.

2 Sold. 'Tis too good

To truss a Cur in.

Sept. Save me, here's Gold.

1 Sold. If Rome

Were offered for thy ransom, it could not help thee.

2 Sold. Hang not an arse.

1 Sold. Goad him on with thy Sword;

Thou dost deserve a worser end, and may

All such conclude so, that their friends betray. [Exeunt.

Ars. We are lost.

Eros. Undone.

Ars. Confusion, Fire, and Swords,

And fury in the Souldiers face more horrid

Circle us round.

Eros. The Kings Command they laugh at,

And jeer at Cæsars threats.

Ars. My Brother seiz'd on

By the Roman, as thought guilty of the tumult,

And forc'd to bear him company, as mark'd out

For his protection or revenge.

Eros. They have broke

Into my Cabinet; my Trunks are ransack'd.

Ars. I have lost my jewels too: but that's the least:

The barbarous Rascals, against all humanity,

Or sense of pity, have kill'd my little Dog,

And broke my Monkeys Chain.

Eros. They rifled me:

But that I could endure, would they proceed no further.

Ars. O my Sister!

Eros. My Queen, my Mistress!

Ars. Can you stand unmov'd

When the Earth-quake of Rebellion shakes the City,

And the Court trembles?

Cleo. Yes, Arsino,

And with a Masculine Constancy deride

Fortunes worst malice, as a Servant to

My Vertues, not a Mistress; then we forsake

The strong Fort of our selves, when we once yield,

Or shrink at her assaults; I am still my self,

And though disrob'd of Soveraignty, and ravish'd

Of ceremonious duty, that attends it,

Nay, grant they had slav'd my Body, my free mind

Like to the Palm-tree walling fruitful Nile,

Shall grow up straighter and enlarge it self

'Spight of the envious weight that loads it with:

Think of thy Birth (Arsino) common burdens

Fit common Shoulders; teach the multitude

By suffering nobly what they fear to touch at;

The greatness of thy mind does soar a pitch,

Their dim eyes (darkened by their narrow souls)

Cannot arrive at.

Ars. I am new created,

And owe this second being to you (best Sister)

For now I feel you have infus'd into me

Part of your fortitude.

Eros. I still am fearful;

I dare not tell a lie; you that were born

Daughters and Sisters unto Kings, may nourish

Great thoughts, which I, that am your humble handmaid

Must not presume to rival.

Cleo. Yet (my Eros)

Though thou hast profited nothing by observing

The whole course of my life, learn in my death,

Though not to equal, yet to imitate

Thy fearless Mistress.

Eros. O, a man in Arms!

His Weapon drawn too?

Cleo. Though upon the point

Death sate, I'll meet it, and outdare the danger.

Pho. Keep the Watch strong, and guard the passage sure

That leads unto the Sea.

Cleo. What Sea of rudeness

Breaks in upon us? or what Subjects Breath

Dare raise a storm, when we command a calm?

Are Duty and Obedience fled to Heaven?

And in their room ambition and pride

Sent into Egypt? That Face speaks thee, Photinus,

A thing thy Mother brought into the World;

My Brother's and my Slave: but thy behaviour,

Oppos'd to that, an insolent intruder

Upon that Soveraignty thou shouldst bow to.

If in the Gulph of base ingratitude,

All loyalty to Ptolomy the King

Be swallowed up, remember who I am,

Whose Daughter and whose Sister; or suppose

That is forgot too; let the name of Cæsar

Which Nations quake at, stop the desperate madness

From running headlong on to thy Confusion.

Throw from thee quickly those rebellious Arms,

And let me read submission in thine Eyes;

Thy wrongs to us we will not only pardon,

But be a ready advocate to plead for thee

To Cæsar, and my Brother.

Pho. Plead my Pardon?

To you I bow, but scorn as much to stoop thus

To Ptolomy or Cæsar, Nay, the gods,

As to put off the figure of a man,

And change my Essence with a sensual Beast;

All my designs, my counsels, and dark ends

Were aim'd to purchase you.

Cleo. How durst thou, being

The scorn of baseness, nourish such a thought?

Pho. They that have power are royal; and those base

That live at the devotion of another.

What birth gave Ptolomy, or fortune Cæsar,

By Engines fashion'd in this Protean Anvil

I have made mine; and only stoop at you,

Whom I would still preserve free to command me;

For Cæsar's frowns, they are below my thoughts,

And but in these fair Eyes I still have read

The story of a supream Monarchy,

To which all hearts with mine gladly pay tribute,

Photinus's Name had long since been as great

As Ptolomies e'r was, or Cæsars is,

This made me as a weaker tye to unloose

The knot of Loyalty, that chain'd my freedom,

And slight the fear that Cæsars threats might cause,

That I and they might see no Sun appear

But Cleopatra in the Egyptian Sphear.

Cleo. O Giant-like Ambition! marryed to

Cymmerian darkness! inconsiderate Fool,

(Though flatter'd with self-love) could'st thou believe,

Were all Crowns on the Earth made into one,

And that (by Kings) set on thy head; all Scepters,

Within thy grasp, and laid down at my feet,

I would vouchsafe a kiss to a no-man?

A guelded Eunuch?

Pho. Fairest, that makes for me,

And shews it is no sensual appetite,

But true love to the greatness of thy Spirit,

That when that you are mine shall yield me pleasures,

Hymen, though blessing a new married Pair

Shall blush to think on, and our certain issue,

The glorious splendor of dread Majesty,

Whose beams shall dazel Rome, and aw the world,

My wants in that kind others shall supply,

And I give way to it.

Cleo. Baser than thy Birth;

Can there be gods, and hear this, and no thunder

Ram thee into the Earth?

Pho. They are asleep,

And cannot hear thee;

Or with open Eyes,

Did Jove look on us, I would laugh and swear

That his artillery is cloy'd by me:

Or if that they have power to hurt, his Bolts

Are in my hand.

Cleo. Most impious!

Pho. They are dreams,

Religious Fools shake at: yet to assure thee,

If Nemesis, that scourges pride and scorn,

Be any thing but a name, she lives in me;

For by my self (an oath to me more dreadful

Than Stix is to your gods) weak Ptolomy dead,

And Cæsar (both being in my toil) remov'd,

The poorest Rascals that are in my Camp

Shall in my presence quench their lustful heat

In thee, and young Arsino, while I laugh

To hear you howl in vain:

I deride those gods,

That you think can protect you.

Cleo. To prevent thee,

In that I am the Mistress of my Fate;

So hope I of my sister to confirm it.

I spit at thee, and scorn thee.

Pho. I will tame

That haughty courage, and make thee stoop too.

Cleo. Never,

I was born to command, and will dye so.

Pho. The King dead? this is a fair entrance to

Our future happiness.

Ars. Oh my dear Brother!

Cleo. Weep not, Arsino, common women do so,

Nor lose a tear for him, it cannot help him;

But study to dye nobly.

Pho. Cæsar fled!

'Tis deadly aconite to my cold heart,

It choaks my vital Spirits: where was your care?

Did the Guards sleep?

Achil. He rowz'd them with his Sword;

We talk of Mars, but I am sure his Courage

Admits of no comparison but it self,

And (as inspir'd by him) his following friends

With such a confidence as young Eagles prey

Under the large wing of their fiercer Dam,

Brake through our Troops and scatter'd them, he went on

But still pursu'd by us, when on the sudden,

He turn'd his head, and from his Eyes flew terrour;

Which strook in us no less fear and amazement,

Than if we had encounter'd with the lightning

Hurl'd from Jove's cloudy Brow.

Cleo. 'Twas like my Cæsar.

Achil. We faln back, he made on, and as our fear

Had parted from us with his dreadful looks,

Again we follow'd; but got near the Sea;

On which his Navy anchor'd; in one hand

Holding a Scroll he had above the waves,

And in the other grasping fast his Sword,

As it had been a Trident forg'd by Vulcan

To calm the raging Ocean, he made away

As if he had been Neptune, his friends like

So many Tritons follow'd, their bold shouts

Yielding a chearful musick; we showr'd darts

Upon them, but in vain, they reach'd their ships

And in their safety we are sunk; for Cæsar

Prepares for War.

Pho. How fell the King?

Achil. Unable

To follow Cæsar, he was trod to death

By the Pursuers, and with him the Priest

Of Isis, good Achoreus.

Ars. May the Earth

Lye gently on their ashes.

Pho. I feel now,

That there are powers above us; and that 'tis not

Within the searching policies of man

To alter their decrees.

Cleo. I laugh at thee;

Where are thy threats now, Fool, thy scoffs and scorns

Against the gods? I see calamity

Is the best Mistress of Religion,

And can convert an Atheist. [Shout within.

Pho. O they come,

Mountains fall on me! O for him to dye

That plac'd his Heaven on Earth, is an assurance

Of his descent to Hell; where shall I hide me?

The greatest daring to a man dishonest,

Is but a Bastard Courage, ever fainting. [Exit.

Cæs. Look on your Cæsar; banish fear, my fairest,

You now are safe.

Sce. By Venus, not a kiss

Till our work be done; the Traitors once dispatch'd

To it, and we'll cry aim.

Cæs. I will be speedy. [Exeunt.

Cleo. Farewel again, Arsino; how now, Eros?

Ever faint-hearted?

Eros. But that I am assur'd,

Your Excellency can command the General,

I fear the Souldiers, for they look as if

They would be nibling too.

Cleo. He is all honour,

Nor do I now repent me of my favours,

Nor can I think that Nature e'r made a Woman

That in her prime deserv'd him.

Ars. He's come back,

Pursue no further; curb the Souldiers fury.

Cæs. See (beauteous Mistris) their accursed heads

That did conspire against us.

Sce. Furies plague 'em,

They had too fair an end to dye like Souldiers,

Pompey fell by the Sword, the Cross or Halter

Should have dispatch'd them.

Cæs. All is but death, good Sceva,

Be therefore satisfied: and now my dearest,

Look upon Cæsar, as he still appear'd

A Conquerour, and this unfortunate King

Entomb'd with honour, we'll to Rome, where Cæsar

Will shew he can give Kingdoms; for the Senate,

(Thy Brother dead) shall willingly decree

The Crown of Egypt (that was his) to thee. [Exeunt omnes.

New Titles warrant not a Play for new,

The Subject being old; and 'tis as true,

Fresh and neat matter may with ease be fram'd

Out of their Stories, that have oft been nam'd

With glory on the Stage; what borrows he

From him that wrote old Priam's Tragedy,

That writes his love to Hecuba? Sure to tell

Of Cæsars amorous heats, and how he fell

In the Capitol, can never be the same

To the Judicious; Nor will such blame

Those who pen'd this, for Barrenness when they find

Young Cleopatra here, and her great Mind

Expressed to the height, with us a Maid, and free,

And how he rated her Virginitie.

We treat not of what boldness she did dye,

Nor of her fatal Love to Antony.

What we present and offer to your view,

Upon their faiths the Stage yet never knew.

Let Reason then first to your Wills give laws,

And after judge of them and of their cause.

I Now should wish another had my place,

But that I hope to come off, and with Grace;

And but express some sign that you are pleas'd,

We of our doubts, they of their fears are eas'd.

I would beg further (Gentlemen) and much say

In favour of our selves, them, and the Play;

Did I not rest assured, the most I see

Hate Impudence, and cherish Modestie.