Pri. O y'are a precious man! two days in town
And never see your old Friend?
Chi. Prithee pardon me.
Pri. And in my Conscience if I had not sent.
Chi. No more, I would ha' come; I must.
Pri. I find ye,
God a mercy want, ye never care for me
But when your Slops are empty.
Chi. Ne'r fear that, Wench;
Shall find good currant Coin still; Is this the old House?
Pri. Have ye forgot it?
Chi. And the door still standing
That goes into the Temple?
Pri. Still.
Chi. The Robes too,
That I was wont to shift in here?
Pri. All here still.
Chi. O ye tuff Rogue, what troubles have I trotted through!
What fears and frights! every poor Mouse a Monster
That I heard stir, and every stick I trod on,
A sharp sting to my Conscience.
Pri. 'Las poor Conscience.
Chi. And all to liquor thy old Boots, Wench.
Pri. Out Beast:
How you talk!
Chi. I am old, Wench,
And talking to an old man is like a stomacher,
It keeps his blood warm.
Pri. But pray tell me—
Chi. Any thing.
Pri. Where did the Boy meet with ye? at a Wench sure?
At one end of a Wench, a Cup of Wine, sure?
Chi. Thou know'st I am too honest.
Pri. That's your fault,
And that the Surgeon knows.
Chi. Then farewel,
I will not fail ye soon.
Pri. Ye shall stay Supper;
I have sworn ye shall, by this ye shall.
Chi. I will, Wench;
But after Supper for an hour, my business.
Pri. And but an hour?
Chi. No by this kiss, that ended
I will return and all night in thine Arms wench.
Pr. No more, I'le take your meaning; come 'tis Supper time. [Exeunt.
Enter Calis, Cleanthe, Lucippe.
Calis. Thou art not well.
Clean. Your grace sees more a great deal
Than I feel, (yet I lye) O Brother!
Cal. Mark her,
Is not the quickness of her eye consumed, wench?
The lively red and white?
Lucip. Nay she is much alter'd,
That on my understanding, all her sleeps Lady
Which were as sound and sweet—
Cle. Pray do not force me,
Good Madam, where I am not, to be ill,
Conceit's a double sickness; on my faith your highness
Is meer mistaken in me. { A Dead March within
of Drum and Sagbutts
Cal. I am glad on't.
Yet this I have ever noted when thou wast thus,
It still forerun some strange event: my Sister
Died when thou wast thus last: hark hark, ho,
What mournfull noise is this comes creeping forward?
Still it grows nearer, nearer, do ye hear it?
Enter Polydor, and Captains, Eumenes mourning.
Lucip. It seems some Souldiers funeral: see it enters.
C[a]l. What may it mean?
Pol. The Gods keep ye fair Calis.
Cal. This man can speak, and well; he stands and views us;
Wou'd I were ne'r worse look't upon: how humbly
His eyes are cast now to the Earth! pray mark him
And mark how rarely he has rankt his troubles:
See now he weeps, they all weep; a sweeter sorrow
I never look't upon, nor one that braver
Became his grief; your will with us?
Pol. Great Lady, [Plucks out the Cup.
Excellent beauty.
Cal. He speaks handsomely.
What a rare rhetorician his grief plaies!
That stop was admirable.
Pol. See, see thou Princess,
Thou great commander of all hearts.
Cal. I have found it,
O how my soul shakes!
Pol. See, see the noble heart
Of him that was the noblest: see and glory
(Like the proud God himself) in what thou hast purchas'd,
Behold the heart of Memnon: does it start ye?
Cal. Good gods, what has his wildness done?
Pol. Look boldlie,
You boldlie said you durst, look wretched woman,
Nay flie not back fair follie, 'tis too late now,
Vertue and blooming honour bleed to death here,
Take it, the Legacie of Love bequeath'd ye,
Of cruel Love a cruel Legacie;
What was the will that wrought it then? can ye weep?
Imbalm it in your truest tears
If women can weep a truth, or ever sorrow sunk yet
Into the soul of your sex, for 'tis a Jewel
The worlds worth cannot weigh down,
Take it Lady; And with it all (I dare not curse) my sorrows,
And may they turn to Serpents.
Eumen. How she looks
Still upon him! see now a tear steals from her.
2 Capt. But still she keeps her eye firm.
Pol. Next read this,
But since I see your spirit somewhat troubled
I'le doe it for ye.
2 Capt. Still she eyes him mainlie.
Goe happy heart for thou shalt lye
Intomb'd in her for whom I dye
Example of her cruelty.
Tell her if she chance to chide
Me for slowness in her pride
That it was for her I died.
If a tear escape her eye
'Tis not for my memory
But thy rights of obsequy.
The Altar was my loving breast,
My heart the sacrificed beast,
And I was my self the Priest.
Your body was the sacred shrine,
Your cruel mind the power divine
Pleas'd with hearts of men, not kine.
Eumen. Now it pours down.
Pol. I like it rarelie: Ladie.
Eumen. How greedily she swallows up his language!
2 Capt. Her eye inhabits on him.
Pol. Cruel Ladie,
Great as your beautie scornfull; had your power
But equal poise on all hearts, all hearts perish't;
But Cupid has more shafts than one, more flames too,
And now he must be open ey'd, 'tis Justice:
Live to injoy your longing; live and laugh at
The losses and the miseries we suffer;
Live to be spoken when your crueltie
Has cut off all the vertue from this Kingdom,
Turn'd honour into earth, and faithful service.
Cal. I swear his anger's excellent.
Pol. Truth, and most tried love
Into disdain and downfall.
Calis. Still more pleasing.
Pol. Live then I say famous for civil slaughters,
Live and lay out your triumphs, gild your glories,
Live and be spoken this is she, this Ladie,
This goodly Ladie, yet most killing beautie;
This with the two edg'd eyes, the heart for hardness
Outdoing rocks; and coldness, rocks of Crystal.
This with the swelling soul, more coy of Courtship
Than the proud sea is when the shores embrace him;
Live till the mothers find ye, read your story,
And sow their barren curses on your beauty,
Till those that have enjoy'd their loves despise ye,
Till Virgins pray against ye, old age find ye,
And even as wasted coals glow in their dying,
So may the Gods reward ye in your ashes:
But y'are the Sister of my King; more prophecies
Else I should utter of ye, true loves and loyal
Bless themselves ever from ye: so I leave ye.
Cal. Prethee be angry still young man: good fair Sir
Chide me again, what wou'd this man doe pleas'd,
That in his passion can bewitch souls? stay.
Eumen. Upon my life she loves him.
Calis. Pray stay.
Pol. No.
Cal. I do command ye.
Pol. No, ye cannot Ladie,
I have a spell against ye, Faith and Reason,
Ye are too weak to reach me: I have a heart too,
But not for hawks meat Ladie.
Cal. Even for Charity
Leave me not thus afflicted: you can teach me.
Pol. How can you Preach that Charity to others
That in your own soul are an Atheist,
Believing neither power nor fear? I trouble ye,
The Gods be good unto ye.
Cal. Amen.
Lucip. Ladie. [She Swounds.
C[l]e. O royal Madam, Gentlemen for heaven sake. { They
come
back.
Pol. Give her fresh air, she comes again: away sirs
And here stand close till we perceive the working.
Eumen. Ye have undone all.
Pol. So I fear.
2 Capt. She loves ye.
Eumen. And then all hopes lost this way.
Pol. Peace she rises.
Clean. Now for my purpose Fortune.
Calis. Where's the Gentleman?
Lucip. Gone Madam.
Calis. Why gone?
Lucip. H'as dispatch't his business.
Calis. He came to speak with me,
He did.
Clean. He did not.
Calis. For I had many questions.
Lucip. On my Faith Madam, he
Talk't a great while to ye.
Calis. Thou conceiv'st not,
He talk't not as he should doe; O my heart
Away with that sad sight; didst thou e're love me?
Lucip. Why do you make that question?
Calis. If thou didst
Run, run wench, run: nay see how thou stir'st.
Lucip. Whither?
Calis. If 'twere for any thing to please thy self
Thou woud'st run toth' devil: but I am grown—
Clean. Fie Lady.
Cal. I ask none of your fortunes, nor your loves,
None of your bent desires I slack, ye are not
In love with all men, are ye? one for shame
You will leave your honour'd mistris? why do ye stare so?
What is that ye see about me, tell me?
Lord what am I become? I am not wilde sure,
Heaven keep that from me: O Cleanthe help me,
Or I am sunk to death.
Cle. Ye have offended and mightily, love is incenst against ye,
And therefore take my Counsel, to the Temple,
For that's the speediest physick: before the Goddess
Give your repentant prayers: ask her will,
And from the Oracle attend your sentence,
She is milde and mercifull.
Calis. I will: O Venus
Even as thou lov'st thy self!
Clean. Now for my fortune. [Exeunt Cal. and women.
Pol. What shall I doe?
1 Capt. Why make your self.
Pol. I dare not,
No Gentlemen, I dare not be a villain,
Though her bright beauty would entice an Angel.
I will toth' King my last hope: get him a woman
As we before concluded: and as ye pass
Give out the Spartans are in arms; and terrible;
And let some letters to that end be feign'd too
And sent to you, some Posts too, to the General;
And let me work: be ne're him still.
Eumen. We will Sir.
Pol. Farewel: and pray for all: what e're I will ye
Doe it, and hope a fair end.
Eumen. The Gods speed ye. [Exeunt.
Enter Stremon, Fool, Boy, and Servants.
Servants. He lies quiet.
Strem. Let him lye, and as I told ye
Make ready for this shew: h'as divers times
Been calling upon Orpheus to appear
And shew the joyes: now I will be that Orpheus,
And as I play and sing, like beasts and trees
I wou'd have you shap't and enter: thou a Dog, fool,
I have sent about your sutes: the Boy a bush,
An Ass you, you a Lion.
Fool. I a Dog?
I'le fit you for a Dog. Bow wow.
Strem. 'Tis excellent,
Steal in and make no noise.
Fool. Bow wow.
Strem. Away Rogue. [Exeunt.
Priest. Good sweet friend be not long.
Chi. Thou think'st each hour ten
Till I be ferreting.
Prie. You know I love ye.
Chi. I will not be above an hour; let thy robe be readie
And the door be kept. { Knock. Cleanthe
knocks within.
Prie. Who knocks there?
Yet more business?
Enter Cleanthe.
Chi. Have ye more pensioners? the Princess woman?
Nay then I'le stay a little, what game's a foot now?
Clean. Now is the time.
Chi. A rank bawd by this hand too,
She grinds o' both sides: hey boyes.
Priest. How, your Brother Siphax?
Loves he the Princess?
Cle. Deadlie, and you know
He is a Gentleman descended noblie.
Chi. But a rank knave as ever pist.
Cle. Hold Mother,
Here's more gold and some jewells.
Chi. Here's no villany,
I am glad I came toth' hearing.
Priest. Alas Daughter,
What would ye have me doe?
Chi. Hold off ye old whore;
There's more gold coming; all's mine, all.
Cle. Do ye shrink now,
Did ye not promise faithfully, and told me
Through any danger?
Pri. Any I can wade through.
Cle. Ye shall and easily, the sin not seen neither,
Here's for a better stole and a new vail mother:
Come, ye shall be my friend.
Chi. If all hit, hang me,
I'le make ye richer than the Goddess.
Pri. Say then,
I am yours, what must I doe?
Cle. I'th' morning
But very early, will the Princess visit
The Temple of the Goddess, being troubled
With strange things that distract her: from the Oracle
(Being strongly too in love) she will demand
The Goddess pleasure, and a Man to cure her,
That Oracle you give: describe my Brother,
You know him perfectly.
Pri. I have seen him often.
Cle. And charge her take the next man she shall meet with
When she comes out: you understand me.
Priest. Well.
Cle. Which shall be he attending; this is all,
And easily without suspicion ended,
Nor none dare disobey, 'tis Heaven that does it,
And who dares cross it then, or once suspect it?
The venture is most easie.
Pri. I will doe it.
Cle. As ye shall prosper?
Pri. As I shall prosper.
Cle. Take this too, and farewel; but first hark hither.
Chi. What a young whore's this to betray her Mistris?
A thousand Cuckolds shall that Husband be,
That marries thee, thou art so mischievous.
I'le put a spoak among your wheels.
Clean. Be constant.
Priest. 'Tis done.
Chi. I'le doe no more at drop shot then. [Exit Chilax.
Pri. Farewel wench. [Exeunt Priest and Cleanthe.
Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.
Enter a Servant, and Stremon, at the door.
Servant. He stirs, he stirs.
Strem. Let him, I am ready for him,
He shall not this day perish, if his passions
May be fed with Musick; are they ready?
Enter Memnon.
Ser. All, all: see where he comes.
Strem. I'le be straight for him. [Exit Stremon.
Enter Eumenes, and Captains.
Ser. How sad he looks and sullen! [Stand close.
Here are the Captains: my fear's past now.
Mem. Put case i'th' other world
She do not love me neither? I am old 'tis certain.
Eumen. His spirit is a little quieter.
Mem. My blood lost, and limbs stiff; my embraces
Like the cold stubborn bark, hoarie, and heatless,
My words worse: my fame only and atchievements
Which are my strength, my blood, my youth, my fashion,
Must wooe her, win her, wed her; that's but wind,
And women are not brought to bed with shadows:
I do her wrong, much wrong; she is young and blessed,
Sweet as the spring, and as his blossoms tender,
And I a nipping North-wind, my head hung
With hails, and frostie Isicles: are the souls so too
When they depart hence, lame and old, and loveless?
No sure, 'tis ever youth there; Time and Death
Follow our flesh no more: and that forc'd opinion
That spirits have no sexes, I believe not.
Enter Stremon, like Orpheus.
There must be love, there is love: what art thou?
SONG.
To thee fond man the plagues of love to show:
To the fair fields where loves eternal dwell
There's none that come, but first they pass through hell:
Hark and beware unless thou hast lov'd ever,
Belov'd again, thou shalt see those joyes never.
O take heed then:
Hark how they howl for over-daring,
All these were men.
They lose their name;
And they that bleed
Hark how they speed.
They sit, and curse their lost desires:
Nor shall these souls be free from pains and fears,
Till Women waft them over in their tears.
Mem. How should I know my passage is deni'd me?
Or which of all the Devils dare?
Eumen. This Song
Was rarely form'd to fit him.
SONG.
Orph. Charon O Charon,
Thou wafter of the souls to bliss or bane.
Cha. Who calls the Ferry-man of Hell?
Orph. Come near,
And say who lives in joy, and who in fear.
Cha. Those that dye well, Eternal joy shall follow;
Those that dye ill, their own foul fate shall swallow.
Orph. Shall thy black Bark those guilty spirits stow
That kill themselves for love?
Cha. O no, no,
My cordage cracks when such great sins are near,
No wind blows fair, nor I myself can stear.
Orph. What lovers pass and in Elyzium raign?
Cha. Those Gentle loves that are belov'd again.
Orph. This Souldier loves, and fain wou'd dye to win,
Shall he goe on?
Cha. No 'tis too foul a sin.
He must not come aboard: I dare not row,
Storms of despair, and guilty blood will blow.
Orph. Shall time release him, say?
Cha. No, no, no, no.
Nor time nor death can alter us, nor prayer;
My boat is destinie, and who then dare
But those appointed come aboard? Live still,
And love by reason, Mortal, not by will.
Orph. And when thy Mistris shall close up thine eyes,
Cha. Then come aboard and pass,
Orph. Till when be wise.
Cha. Till when be wise.
Eumen. How still he sits: I hope this Song has setled him.
1 Capt. He bites his lip, and rowles his fiery eyes, yet
I fear for all this—
2 Capt. Stremon still apply to him.
Strem. Give me more room, sweetly strike, divinely
Such strains as old earth moves at.
Orph. The power I have over both beast and plant,
Thou man alone feelst miserable want. [Musick.
Strike you rare Spirits that attend my will,
And lose your savage wildness by my skill.
Enter a Mask of Beasts.
This Lion was a man of War that died,
As thou wouldst do, to gild his Ladies pride:
This Dog a fool that hung himself for love:
This Ape with daily hugging of a glove,
Forgot to eat and died. This goodly tree,
An usher that still grew before his Ladie,
Wither'd at root. This, for he could not wooe,
A grumbling Lawyer: this pyed Bird a page,
That melted out because he wanted age.
Still these lye howling on the Stygian shore,
O love no more, O love no more. [Exit Memnon.
Eumen. He steals off silently, as though he would sleep,
No more, but all be near him, feed his fancie
Good Stremon still; this may lock up his follie.
Yet Heaven knows I much fear him; away softly. [Exeunt Captains.
Fool. Did I not doe most doggedly?
Strem. Most rarelie.
Fool. He's a brave man, when shall we dog again?
Boy. Unty me first for Gods sake,
Fool. Help the Boy; he's in a wood poor child: good hony Stremon
Let's have a bear-baiting; ye shall see me play
The rarest for a single Dog: at head all;
And if I do not win immortal glorie,
Play Dog play Devil.
Strem. Peace for this time.
Fool. Prethee
Let's sing him a black Santis, then let's all howl
In our own beastly voices; tree keep your time,
Untye there; bow, wow, wow.
Strem. Away ye Asse, away.
Fool. Why let us doe something
To satisfie the Gentleman, he's mad;
A Gentleman-like humour, and in fashion,
And must have men as mad about him.
Strem. Peace,
And come in quicklie, 'tis ten to one else
He'l find a staff to beat a dog; no more words,
I'le get ye all imployment; soft, soft in all. [Exeunt.
Enter Chilax and Cloe.
Chi. When camest thou over wench?
Clo. But now this evening,
And have been ever since looking out Siphax,
I'th' wars he would have lookt me: sure h'as gotten
Some other Mistris?
Chi. A thousand, wench, a thousand,
They are as common here as Caterpillers
Among the corn, they eat up all the Souldiers.
Clo. Are they so hungry? yet by their leave [C]hilax,
I'le have a snatch too.
Chi. Dost thou love him still wench?
Clo. Why should I not? he had my Maiden-head
And all my youth.
Chi. Thou art come the happiest,
In the most blessed time, sweet wench the fittest,
If thou darst make thy fortune: by this light, Cloe,
And so I'le kiss thee: and if thou wilt but let me,
For 'tis well worth a kindness.
Clo. What shou'd I let ye?
Chi. Enjoy thy miniken.
Clo. Thou art still old Chilax.
Chi. Still still, and ever shall be: if, I say,
Thou wo't strike the stroke: I cannot do much harm wench.
Clo. Nor much good.
Chi. Siphax shall be thy Husband,
Thy very Husband woman, thy fool, thy Cuckold,
Or what thou wilt make him: I am over joy'd,
Ravisht, clean ravisht with this fortune; kiss me,
Or I shall lose my self.
Clo. My Husband said ye?
Chi. Said I? and will say, Cloe: nay and do it
And do it home too; Peg thee as close to him
As birds are with a pin to one another;
I have it, I can do it: thou wantst clothes too,
And hee'l be hang'd unless he marry thee
E're he maintain thee: now he has Ladies, Courtiers
More than his back can bend at, multitudes;
We are taken up for threshers, will ye bite?
Clo. Yes.
Chi. And let me—
Clo. Yes and let ye—
Chi. What!
Clo. Why that ye wote of.
Chi. I cannot stay, take your instructions
And something toward houshold, come, what ever
I shall advise ye, follow it exactlie,
And keep your times I point ye; for I'le tell ye
A strange way you must wade through.
Clo. Fear not me Sir.
Chi. Come then, and let's dispatch this modicum,
For I have but an hour to stay, a short one,
Besides more water for another mill,
An old weak over-shot I must provide for,
There's an old Nunnerie at hand.
Clo. What's that?
Chi. A bawdie house.
Clo. A pox consume it.
Chi. If the stones 'tis built on
Were but as brittle as the flesh lives in it,
Your curse came handsomlie: fear not, there's ladies,
And other good sad people: your pinkt Citizens
Think it no shame to shake a sheet there: Come wench. [Exeunt.
Enter Cleanthe and Siphax.
Clean. A Souldier and so fearfull?
Siph. Can ye blame me;
When such a weight lies on me?
Clean. Fye upon ye,
I tell ye, ye shall have her: have her safelie,
And for your wife with her own will.
Siph. Good Sister—
Cle. What a distrustfull man are you! to morrow,
To morrow morning—
Siph. Is it possible?
Can there be such a happiness?
Clean. Why hang me
If then ye be not married: if to morrow night,
Ye doe not—
Siph. O dear Sister—
Clean. What ye wou'd doe,
What ye desire to doe; lie with her: Devil,
What a dull man are you!
Siph. Nay I believe now,
And shall she love me?
Clean. As her life, and stroke ye.
Siph. O I will be her Servant.
Clean. 'Tis your dutie.
Siph. And she shall have her whole will.
Clean. Yes 'tis reason,
She is a Princess, and by that rule boundless.
Si. What wou'd you be? for I wou'd have ye Sister
Chuse some great place about us: as her woman
Is not so fit.
Clean. No, no, I shall find places.
Siph. And yet to be a Ladie of her bed-chamber,
I hold not so fit neither,
Some great title, believe it, shall be look't out.
Clean. Ye may, a Dutchess
Or such a toye, a small thing pleases me Sir.
Sip. What you will Sister: if a neighbour Prince,
When we shall come to raign—
Clean. We shall think on't,
Be ready at the time, and in that place too,
And let me work the rest, within this half hour
The Princess will be going, 'tis almost morning,
Away and mind your business.
Siph. Fortune bless us. [Exeunt.
Enter King, Polydor and Lords.
Pol. I do beseech your grace to banish me.
King. Why Gentleman, is she not worthy marriage?
Pol. Most worthy, Sir, where worth again shall meet her,
But I like thick clouds sailing slow and heavy,
Although by her drawn higher, yet shall hide her,
I dare not be a traitor; and 'tis treason,
But to imagine: as you love your honour—
King. 'Tis her first maiden doting, and if crost,
I know it kills her.
1 Lord. How knows your grace she loves him?
King. Her woman told me all (beside his story)
Her maid Lucippe, on what reason too,
And 'tis beyond all but enjoying.
Polydor. Sir,
Even by your wisdom; by that great discretion
Ye owe to rule and order—
2 Lord. This man's mad sure,
To plead against his fortune—
1 Lord. And the King too,
Willing to have it so!
Pol. By those dead Princes
From whose descents ye stand a star admir'd at,
Lay not so base a lay upon your vertues;
Take heed, for honours sake take heed: the bramble
No wise man ever planted by the rose,
It cankers all her beauty; nor the vine
When her full blushes court the sun, dares any
Choke up with wanton Ivy: good my Lords,
Who builds a monument, the Basis Jasper,
And the main body Brick?
2 Lord. Ye wrong your worth,
Ye are a Gentleman descended nobly.
1 Lord. In both bloods truly noble.
King. Say ye were not,
My will can make ye so.
Pol. No, never, never;
'Tis not descent, nor will of Princes does it,
'Tis Vertue which I want, 'tis Temperance,
Man, honest man: is't fit your Majesty
Should call my drunkenness, my rashness, Brother?
Or such a blessed Maid my breach of faith,
(For I am most lascivious) and fell angers
In which I am also mischievous, her Husband?
O Gods preserve her! I am wild as Winter,
Ambitious as the Devil: out upon me,
I hate my self, Sir, if ye dare bestow her
Upon a Subject, ye have one deserves her.
King. But him she does not love: I know your meaning.
This young mans love unto his noble Brother
Appears a mirrour; what must now be done Lords?
For I am gravel'd, if she have not him,
She dies for certain, if his Brother miss her,
Farewel to him, and all our honours.
1 Lord. He is dead, Sir,
Your Grace has heard of that, and strangely.
King. No,
I can assure you no, there was a trick in't,
Read that, and then know all; what ails the Gentleman?
Hold him; how do ye Sir? [Polydor is sick o'th' sudden.
Pol. Sick o'th' sudden,
Extreamly ill, wondrous ill.
King. Where did it take ye?
Pol. Here in my head, Sir, and my heart, for Heaven sake.
King. Conduct him to his Chamber presently,
And bid my Doctors—
Pol. No, I shall be well, Sir,
I do beseech your Grace, even for the Gods sake
Remember my poor Brother, I shall pray then.
King. Away, he grows more weak still: I will do it,
Or Heaven forget me ever. Now your Counsels, [Ex. Pol.
For I am at my wits end; what with you Sir?
Enter Messenger with a Letter.
Mess. Letters from warlike Pelius.
King. Yet more troubles?
The Spartans are in Arms, and like to win all:
Supplies are sent for, and the General;
This is more cross than t'other; come let's to him,
For he must have her, 'tis necessity,
Or we must lose our honours, let's plead all,
For more than all is needful, shew all reason
If love can hear o' that side, if she yield
We have fought best, and won the noblest field. [Exeunt.
Enter Eumenes, Captains, Stremon.
1 Cap. I have brought the wench, a lusty wench,
And somewhat like the Princess.
Eumen. 'Tis the better, let's see her,
And go you in and tell him, that her Grace
Is come to visit him: how sleeps he Stremon?
Stre. He cannot, only thinks, and calls on Polydor,
Swears he will not be fool'd; sometimes he rages,
And sometimes sits and muses. [Exit Stremon.
Enter Whore, and Captain.
Eume. He's past all help sure?
How do ye like her?
2 Capt. By th' mass a good round Virgin,
And at first sight resembling, she is well cloath'd too.
Eume. But is she sound?
2 Cap. Of wind and limb, I warrant her.
Eume. You are instructed Lady?
Who. Yes, and know, Sir,
How to behave my self, ne're fear.
Eume. Polybius,
Where did he get this Vermin?
1 Capt. Hang him Badger,
There's not a hole free from him, whores and whores mates
Do all pay him obedience.
Eume. Indeed i'th' War,
His quarter was all Whore, Whore upon Whore,
And lin'd with Whore; beshrew me 'tis a fair Whore.
1 Capt. She has smockt away her blood; but fair or foul,
Or blind or lame, that can but lift her leg up,
Comes not amiss to him, he rides like a night Mare,
All Ages, all Religions.
Eume. Can ye state it?
Who. I'le make a shift.
Eume. He must lie with ye, Lady.
Who. Let him, [h]e's not the first man I have lain with,
Nor shall not be the last.
Enter Memnon.
2 Capt. He comes, no more words,
She has her lesson throughly; how he views her!
Eumen. Go forward now, so, bravely, stand!
Mem. Great Lady,
How humbly I am bound—
Who. You shall not kneel, Sir,
Come, I have done you wrong; stand my Souldier,
And thus I make amends— [Kisses him.
Eumen. A Plague confound ye,
Is this your state?
2 Capt. 'Tis well enough.
Mem. O Lady,
Your Royal hand, your hand my dearest beauty
Is more than I must purchase: here divine one,
I dare revenge my wrongs: ha?
1 Capt. A damn'd foul one.
Eume. The Lees of Baudy prewns: mourning Gloves?
All spoil'd by Heaven.
Mem. Ha! who art thou?
2 Capt. A shame on ye,
Ye clawing scabby Whore.
Mem. I say, who art thou?
Eumen. Why 'tis the Princess, Sir.
Mem. The Devil, Sir,
'Tis some Roguey thing.
Who. If this abuse be love, Sir,
Or I that laid aside my modesty—
Eumen. So far thou't never find it.
Mem. Do not weep,
For if ye be the Princess, I will love ye,
Indeed I will, and honour ye, fight for ye,
Come, wipe your eyes; by Heaven she stinks; who art thou?
Stinks like a poyson'd Rat behind a hanging?
Woman, who art? like a rotten Cabbage.
2 Capt. Y'are much to blame, Sir, 'tis the Princess.
Mem. How?
She the Princess?
Eumen. And the loving Princess.
1 Capt. Indeed the doating Princess.
Mem. Come hither once more,
The Princess smells like mornings breath, pure Amber,
Beyond the courted Indies in her spices.
Still a dead Rat by Heaven; thou a Princess?
Eumen. What a dull Whore is this!
Mem. I'le tell ye presently,
For if she be a Princess, as she may be
And yet stink too, and strongly, I shall find her;
Fetch the Numidian Lyon I brought over,
If she be sprung from the Royal blood, the Lyon,
He'l do you reverence, else—
Who. I beseech your Lordship—
Eumen. He'l tear her all to pieces.
Who. I am no Princess, Sir.
Mem. Who brought thee hither?
2 Capt. If ye confess, we'll hang ye.
Who. Good my Lord—
Mem. Who art thou then?
Who. A poor retaining Whore, Sir,
To one of your Lordships Captains.
Mem. Alas poor Whore,
Go, be a Whore still, and stink worse: Ha, ha, ha. [Ex. Cloe.
What fools are these, and Coxcombs! [Exit Memnon.
Eumen. I am right glad yet,
He takes it with such lightness.
1 Cap. Me thinks his face too
Is not so clouded as it was; how he looks!
Eume. Where's your dead Rat?
2 Cap. The Devil dine upon her
Loins; why what a Medicine had he gotten
To try a Whore!
Enter Stremon.
Stre. Here's one from Polydor stays to speak with ye.
Eume. With whom?
Stre. With all; where has the General been?
He's laughing to himself extreamly.
Eumen. Come,
I'le tell thee how; I am glad yet he's so merry. [Exeunt.
Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.
Enter Chilax and Priestess, Calis, Lady and Nun.
Chi. What lights are those that enter there, still nearer?
Plague o' your rotten itch, do you draw me hither
Into the Temple to betray me? was there no place
To satisfie your sin in? Gods forgive me,
Still they come forward.
Priest. Peace ye fool, I have found it,
'Tis the young Princess Calis.
Chi. 'Tis the Devil,
To claw us for our catterwawling.
Priest. Retire softly,
I did not look for you these two hours, Lady,
Beshrew your hast: that way. [To Chilax.
Chi. That goes to the Altar!
Ye old blind Beast.
Priest. I know not, any way;
Still they come nearer,
I'le in to th' Oracle.
Chi. That's well remembred I'le in with ye.
Priest. Do. [Exeunt Priest, and Chilax.
Enter Calis and her Train with lights, singing:
Lucippe, Cleanthe.
SONG.
O fair sweet Goddess Queen of Loves,
Soft and gentle, as thy Doves,
Humble ey'd, and ever ruing
Those poor hearts, their Loves pursuing:
O thou Mother of delights,
Crowner of all happy nights,
Star of dear content, and pleasure,
Of mutual loves the endless treasure,
Accept this sacrifice we bring,
Thou continual youth and Spring,
Grant this Lady her desires,
And every hour we'll crown thy fires.
Enter a Nun.
Nun. You about her all retire,
Whilest the Princess feeds the fire,
When your Devotions ended be
To the Oracle I will attend ye.
[Exit Nun and draws the Curtain close to Calis.
Enter Stremon and Eumenes.
Strem. He will abroad.
Eumen. How does his humour hold him?
Stre. He is now grown wondrous sad, weeps often too,
Talks of his Brother to himself, starts strangely.
Eumen. Does he not curse?
Strem. No.
Eumen. Nor break out in fury,
Offering some new attempt?
Strem. Neither; to th' Temple
Is all we hear of now: what there he will do—
Eumen. I hope repent his folly, let's be near him.
Strem. Where are the rest?
Eumen. About a business
Concerns him mainly, if Heav'n cure his madness,
He's made for ever, Stremon.
Strem. Does the King know it?
Eumen. Yes, and much troubled with it, he's now gone
To seek his Sister out.
Strem. Come let's away then. [Exeunt Eumen. Strem. Cal.
Enter Nun, she opens the Curtain to Calis. Calis at the Oracle.
Nun. Peace to your Prayers Lady, will it please ye
To pass on to the Oracle?
Cal. Most humbly. [Chilax and Priest, in the Oracle.
Chi. Do ye hear that?
Priest. Yes, lie close.
Chi. A wildfire take ye,
What shall become of me? I shall be hang'd now:
Is this a time to shake? a halter shake ye,
Come up and juggle, come.
Priest. I am monstrous fearful.
Chi. Up ye old gaping Oyster, up and answer;
A mouldy Mange upon your chops, ye told me
I was safe here till the Bell rung.
Priest. I was prevented,
And did not look these three hours for the Princess.
Chi. Shall we be taken?
Priest. Speak for loves sake, Chilax;
I cannot, nor I dare not.
Chi. I'le speak Treason, for I had as lieve be hang'd for that.
Priest. Good Chilax.
Chi. Must it be sung or said? what shall I tell 'em?
They are here; here now preparing.
Priest. O my Conscience!
Chi. Plague o' your spurgall'd Conscience, does it tire now?
Now when it should be tuffest? I could make thee—
Priest. Save us, we are both undone else.
Chi. Down ye Dog then,
Be quiet, and be stanch to no inundations.
Nun. Here kneel again, and Venus grant your wishes.
Thou in power above the seven:
Thou sweet kindler of desires,
Till they grow to mutual fires:
Thou, O gentle Queen, that art
Curer of each wounded heart:
Thou the fuel, and the flame;
Thou in Heaven, and here the same:
Thou the wooer, and the woo'd:
Thou the hunger, and the food:
Thou the prayer, and the pray'd;
Thou what is, or shall be said:
Thou still young, and golden tressed,
Make me by thy Answer blessed.
Chi. When?
Priest. Now speak handsomly, and small by all means,
I have told ye what. [Thunder.
Chi. But I'le tell you a new tale,
Now for my Neck-verse; I have heard thy prayers,
And mark me well.
Musick. Venus descends.
Nun. The Goddess is displeased much,
The temple shakes and totters; she appears,
Bow, Lady, bow.