Clar. Things go better
Than you deserve; you carry things so openly,
I must bear every way, I am once more
In my Ladies grace.
Leon. And I in yours.
Clar. It may be; but I have sworn unto my Lady never
To sin again.
Leon. To be surpriz'd—the sin
Is in it self excusable; to be taken
Is a crime, as the Poet writes.
Clar. You know my weakness,
And that makes you so confident. You have got
A fair sword; was it not Lisanders?
Leon. Yes Wench,
And I grown valiant by the wearing of it:
It hath been the death of two. With this Lisander
Slew Clor[id]on, and Chrysanthes. I took it up,
Broken in the handle, but that is reform'd,
And now in my possession; the late Master
Dares never come to challenge it: this sword,
And all the weapons that I have, are ever
Devoted to thy service: Shall we bill?
I am very gamesome.
Clar. I must first dispose of
The fool Malfort; he hath smoak'd you, and is not,
But by some new device to be kept from me:
I have it here shall fit him: you know where
You must expect me, with all possible silence
Get thither.
Leon. You will follow?
Clar. Will I live?
She that is forfeited to lust must dye,
That humour being unfed; begone, here comes [Exit Le.
Enter Malfort in Armour.
Malf. What adventure
I am bound upon I know not, but it is
My Mistresses pleasure that I should appear thus.
I may perhaps be terrible to others,
But as I am, I am sure my shadow frights me,
The clashing of my Armour in my ears,
Sounds like a passing-bell; and my Buckler, puts me
In mind of a Bier; this my broad Sword a pick-axe
To dig my grave: O love, abominable love,
What Monsters issue from thy dismal den,
Clarinda's placket, which I must encounter,
Or never hope to enter?
Clar. Here's a Knight errant, Monsieur Malfort.
Malf. Stand, stand, or I'le fall for ye.
Clar. Know ye not my voice?
Malf. Yes, 'twas at that I trembl'd.
But were my false friend Leon here—
Clar. 'Tis he.
Malf. Where? where?
Clar. He is not come yet.
Malf. 'Tis well for him,
I am so full of wrath.
Clar. Or fear—This Leon,
How e're my Kinsman, hath abus'd you grosly,
And this night vowes to take me hence perforce,
And marry me to another: 'twas for this,
(Presuming on your love) I did entreat you
To put your armour on, that with more safety
You might defend me.
Mal. And I'le do it bravely.
Clar. You must stand here to beat him off, and suffer
No humane thing to pass you, though it appear
In my Lords shape, or Ladies: be not cozen'd
With a disguise.
Mal. I have been fool'd already, but now I am wise.
Clar. You must swear not to stir hence.
Mal. Upon these lips.
Clar. Nor move untill I call you?
Mal. I'le grow here rather.
Clar. This nights task well ended,
I am yours to morrow. Keep sure guard. [Exit Clar.
Malf. Adieu;
My honey-comb how sweet thou art, did not
A nest of Hornets keep it! what impossibilities
Love makes me undertake! I know my self
A natural Coward, and should Leon come,
Though this were Cannon proof, I should deliver
The wench before he ask'd her. I hear some footing:
'Tis he; where shall I hide my self? that is
My best defence.
Enter Cleander.
Cle. I cannot sleep, strange visions
Make this poor life, I fear'd of late to lose,
A toy that I grow weary of.
Malf. 'Tis Leon.
Cle. What's that?
Malf. If you are come, Sir, for Clarinda;
I am glad I have her for you; I resign
My interest; you'll find her in her Chamber,
I did stay up to tell you so.
Clean. Clarinda, and Leon!
There is something more in this
Than I can stay to ask. [Exit.
Malf. What a cold pickle
(And that none of the sweetest) do I find
My poor self in!
Clean. [Speaks within.] Yield villain.
Enter Clarinda and Leon, running. Cleander
following.
Clar. 'Tis my Lord,
Shift for your self.
Leon. His life
Shall first make answer [Kills Cleander.
For this intrusion.
Malf. I am going away,
I am gone already. [Falls in a swoon.
Clean. Heaven take mercy on
My soul; too true presaging Host.
Clar. He's dead,
And this wretch little better:
Do you stare upon your
Handy-work?
Leon. I am amaz'd.
Clar. Get o're the Garden wall, flye for your life,
But leave your sword behind; enquire not why:
I'le fashion something out of it, though I perish,
Shall make way for revenge.
Leon. These are the fruits
Of lust, Clarinda.
Puts the sword in
Malfort's hand.
Clar. Hence, repenting Milk-sop. [Exit Leon.
Now 'tis too late. Lisanders sword, I that,
That is the Base I'le build on. So, I'le raise
The house. Help, murther, a most horrid
Murther. Monsieur Beronte, noble Dorilaus,
All buried in sleep? Aye me a murther,
A most unheard-of murther.
Enter Dorilaus as from bed.
Dor. More lights Knaves;
Beronte, Alcidon; more lights.
Enter Beronte, Alcidon, and Servants with lights.
Clar. By this I see too much.
Dor. My Son Cleander bathing
In his own gore. The Devil, to tell truth, i'th' shape of
An Host!
Ber. My Brother?
Malf. I have been
I'th' other world, in Hell I think, these Devils
With fire-brands in their paws sent to torment me,
Though I never did the deed, for my lewd purpose
To be a Whore-master.
Dor. Who's that?
Alci. 'Tis one in Armour. A bloudy sword in his hand.
Dor. Sans question the murtherer.
Malf. Who I? you do me wrong,
I never had the heart to kill a Chicken;
Nor do I know this sword.
Alc. I do, too well.
Ber. I have seen Lisander wear it.
Clar. This confirms
What yester-night I whisper'd: let it work,
The circumstance may make it good.
Malf. My Lord? and I his murtherer?
Ber. Drag the villain hence,
The Rack shall force a free confession from him.
Malf. I am struck dumb;
You need not stop my mouth.
Ber. Away with him. [Exit with Malfort.
Enter Calista, and Olinda.
Cal. Where is my Lord?
Dor. All that
Remains of him lies there: look on this object,
And then turn marble.
Cal. I am so already,
Made fit to be his Monument: but wherefore
Do you, that have both life and motion left you,
Stand sad spectators of his death.
And not bring forth his murtherer?
Ber. That lies in you: you must, and shall produce him.
Dor. She, Beronte?
Ber. None else.
Dor. Thou ly'st, I'le prove it on thy head,
Or write it on thy heart.
Alc. Forbear, there is
Too much blood shed already.
Ber. Let not choler
Stifle your judgment; many an honest Father
Hath got a wicked Daughter. If I prove not
With evident proofs her hand was in the bloud
Of my dear Brother, (too good a Husband for her)
Give your revenge the reins, and spur it forward.
Dor. In any circumstance but shew her guilty,
I'le strike the first stroak at her.
Ber. Let me ask
A question calmly: do you know this Sword?
Have you not seen Lisander often wear it?
Dor. The same with which he rescued me.
Cal. I do, what inference from this to make me guilty?
Ber. Was he not with you in the house to-night?
Cal. No on my soul.
Ber. Nor ever heretofore
In private with you, when you feign'd a sickness,
To keep your Husband absent?
Cal. Never, Sir, to a dishonest end.
Ber. Was not this Woman
Your instrument? her silence does confess it:
Here lyes Cleander dead, and here the sword
Of false Lisander, too long cover'd with
A masque of seeming truth.
Dor. And is this all
The proof you can alledge? Lisander guilty,
Or my poor Daughter an Adulteress?
Suppose that she had chang'd discourse with one
To whom she ow'd much more?
Cal. Thou hast thy ends, wicked Clarinda. [She falls.
Oli. Help, the Lady sinks, malice hath kill'd her.
Dor. I would have her live,
Since I dare swear she's innocent: 'tis no time
Or place to argue now: this cause must be
Decided by the Judge; and though a Father,
I will deliver her into the hands
Of Justice. If she prove true gold when try'd,
She's mine: if not, with curses I'le disclaim her:
Take up your part of sorrow, mine shall be
Ready to answer with her life the fact
That she is charg'd with.
Ber. Sir, I look upon you as on a Father.
Dor. With the eyes of sorrow
I see you as a Brother: let your witnesses
Be ready.
Ber. 'Tis my care.
Alc. I am for Lidian.
This accident no doubt will draw him from
His Hermits life.
Clar. Things yet go right, persist, Sir. [Exeunt.
Enter Lisander, and Lancelot.
Lisan. Are the horses dead?
Lanc. Out-right. If you ride at this rate,
You must resolve to kill your two a day,
And that's a large proportion.
Lisan. Will you please
At any price, and speedily, to get fresh ones.
You know my danger, and the penalty
That follows it, should I be apprehended.
Your duty in obeying my commands,
Will in a better language speak your service,
Than your unnecessary, and untimely care of my expence.
Lanc. I am gone, Sir. [Exit.
Lisan. In this thicket
I will expect you: Here yet I have leisure
To call my self unto a strict account
For my pass'd life, how vainly spent: I would
I stood no farther guilty: but I have
A heavier reckoning to make: This hand
Of late as white as innocence, and unspotted,
Now wears a purple colour, dy'd in gore,
My soul of the same tincture; pur-blind passion,
With flattering hopes, would keep me from despair,
Pleading I was provok'd to it; but my reason
Breaking such thin and weak defences, tells me
I have done a double murther; and for what?
Was it in service of the King? his Edicts
Command the contrary: or for my Country?
Her Genius, like a mourning mother, answers
In Cloridon, and Chrysanthes she hath lost
Two hopeful sons, that might have done their parts,
To guard her from Invasion: for what cause then?
To keep th' opinion of my valour upright,
I'th' popular breath, a sandy ground to build on;
Bought with the Kings displeasure, as the breach
Of Heavens decrees, the loss of my true comforts,
In Parents, Kinsmen, Friends, as the fruition
Of all that I was born to, and that sits
Like to a hill of Lead here, in my exile,
(Never to be repeal'd, if I escape so)
I have cut off all hopes ever to look on
Enter Lidian, like a Hermite.
Divine Calista, from her sight, and converse,
For ever banish'd.
Lid. I should know this voice,
His naming too my Sister, whom Lisander
Honour'd, but in a noble way, assures me
That it can be no other: I stand bound
To comfort any man I find distress'd:
But to aid him that sav'd my life, Religion
And Thankfulness commands, and it may be
High providence for this good end hath brought him
Into my solitary walk. Lisander, noble Lisander.
Lis. Whatsoe'er thou art,
That honorable attribute thou giv'st me,
I can pretend no right to: come not near me,
I am infectious, the sanctity
Of thy profession (for thou appearest
A reverend Hermite) if thou flye not from me,
As from the Plague or Leprosie, cannot keep thee
From being polluted.
Lid. With good counsel, Sir,
And holy prayers to boot I may cure you,
Though both wayes so infected. You look wildly,
Peace to your conscience, Sir, and stare upon me,
As if you never saw me: hath my habit
Alter'd my face so much, that yet you know not
Your servant Lidian?
Lis. I am amaz'd!
So young, and so religious?
Lid. I purpose (Heaven make me thankful for't) to leave the world:
I have made some trial of my strengths in this
My solitary life; and yet I find not
A faintness to go on.
Lis. Above belief: do you inhabit here?
Lid. Mine own free choice, Sir:
I live here poorly, but contentedly,
Because I find enough to feed my fortunes;
Indeed too much: these wild fields are my gardens,
The Crystal Rivers they afford their waters,
And grudge not their sweet streams to quench afflictions;
The hollow rocks their beds, which though they are hard,
(The Emblems of a doting lovers fortune)
Yet they are quiet; and the weary slumbers
The eyes catch there, softer than beds of Down, Friend;
The Birds my Bell to call me to devotions;
My Book the story of my wandring life,
In which I find more hours due to repentance
Than time hath told me yet.
Lis. Answer me truly.
Lid. I will do that without a conjuration.
Lis. I'th' depth of meditation do you not
Sometimes think of Olinda?
Lid. I endeavour
To raze her from my memory, as I wish
You would do the whole Sex, for know, Lisander,
The greatest curse brave man can labour under,
Is the strong Witch-craft of a Womans eyes;
Where I find men I preach this doctrine to 'em:
As you are a Scholar, knowledge make your Mistris,
The hidden beauties of the Heavens your study;
There shall you find fit wonder for your faith,
And for your eye in-imitable objects:
As you are a profess'd souldier, court your honour,
Though she be stern, she is honest, a brave Mistris;
The greater danger you oppose to win her,
She shews the sweeter, and rewards the nobler;
Womans best loves to hers meer shadows be,
For after death she weds your memory.
These are my contemplations.
Lis. Heavenly ones;
And in a young man more remarkable.
But wherefore do I envy, and not tread in
This blessed tract? here's in the heart no falshood
To a vow'd friend, no quarrels seconded
With Challenges, which answer'd in defence
Of the word Reputation, murther follows.
A man may here repent his sins, and though
His hand like mine be stain'd in bloud, it may be
With penitence and true contrition wash'd off;
You have prov'd it, Lidian.
Lid. And you'll find it true, if you persevere.
Lis. Here then ends my flight,
And here the fury of the King shall find me
Prepar'd for Heaven, if I am mark'd to dye;
For that I truly grieve for.
Enter Fryar, and Clarange in Fryars habit.
Fry. Keep your self conceal'd, I am instructed.
Clar. How the sight
Of my dear friend confirms me.
Lis. What are these?
Lid. Two reverend Fryers, one I know.
Fry. To you
This journey is devoted.
Lid. Welcome, Father.
Fry. I know your resolution so well grounded,
And your adieu unto the world so constant,
That though I am th' unwilling messenger
Of a strange accident to try your temper,
It cannot shake you. You had once a friend,
A noble friend, Clarange.
Lid. And have still, I hope, good Father.
Fry. Your false hopes deceive you,
He's dead.
Lis. Clarange dead?
Fry. I buried him;
Some said he dy'd of melancholy, some of love,
And of that fondness perish'd.
Lid. O Clarange!
Clar. Hast thou so much brave nature, noble Lidian,
So tenderly to love thy Rivals memory?
The bold Lisander weeps too.
Fry. I expected that you would bear this better.
Lid. I am a man, Sir, and my great loss weigh'd duly—
Fry. His last words were
After confession, live long, dear Lidian,
Possess'd of all thy wishes; and of me
He did desire, bathing my hand with tears,
That with my best care, I should seek, and find you,
And from his dying mouth prevail so with you,
That you a while should leave your Hermits strictness,
And on his Monument pay a tear or two,
To witness how you lov'd him.
Lid. O my heart! to witness how I lov'd him? would he had not
Led me into his Grave, but sacrific'd
His sorrows upon mine, he was my friend,
My noble friend, I will bewail his ashes;
His fortunes, and poor mine were born together,
And I will weep 'em both; I will kneel by him,
And on his hallow'd Earth do my last duties.
I'll gather all the pride of Spring to deck him,
Wood-bines shall grow upon his honour'd Grave;
And as they prosper, clasp to shew our friendship,
And when they wither, I'll dye too.
Clar. Who would not
Desire to dye, to be bewail'd thus nobly?
Fry. There is a Legacy he hath bequeath'd you;
But of what value I must not discover,
Until those Rites and pious Ceremonies
Are duly tender'd.
Lid. I am too full of sorrow to be inquisitive.
Lis. To think of his,
I do forget mine own woes.
Enter Alcidon.
Alc. Graze thy fill, now
Thou hast done thy business; ha! who have we here?
Lisander, Lidian, and two Reverend Fryars?
What a strange scene of sorrow is express'd
In different postures, in their looks and station!
A common Painter eying these to help
His dull invention, might draw to the life
The living Sons of Priam, as they stood
On the pale Walls of Troy, when Hector fell
Under Achilles's Spear; I come too late,
My Horse, though good and strong, mov'd like a Tortoise;
Ill News had wings, and hath got here before me.
All Pythagoreans? not a word?
Lid. O Alcidon—
Deep Rivers with soft murmurs glide along
The shallow roar; Clarange!
Lis. Cloridon, Chrysanthes, spare my grief, and apprehend
What I should speak.
Alc. Their fates I have long since
For your sakes mourn'd; Clarange's death, for so
Your silence doth confirm, till now I heard not;
Are these the bounds that are prescrib'd unto
The swelling seas of sorrow?
Lis. The bounds, Alcidon?
Can all the winds of mischief, from all Quarters,
Euphrates, Ganges, Tigris, Volga, Po,
Paying at once their tribute to this Ocean,
Make it swell higher? I am a Murtherer,
Banish'd, proscrib'd, is there ought else that can
Be added to it?
Lid. I have lost a friend,
Priz'd dearer than my being, and he dead,
My miseries at the height contemn the worst
Of Fortunes malice.
Alc. How our humane weakness,
Grown desperate from small disasters, makes us
Imagine them a period to our sorrows!
When the first syllable of greater woes
Is not yet written.
Lid. How?
Lis. Speak it at large,
Since grief must break my heart, I am ambitious
It should be exquisite.
Alc. It must be told,
Yet ere you hear it, with all care put on
The surest armour anvil'd in the Shop
Of passive fortitude; the good Cleander,
Your friend, is murther'd.
Lis. 'Tis a terrible pang,
And yet it will not do, I live yet, act not
The Torturers part; if that there be a blow
Beyond this, give it, and at once dispatch me.
Alc. Your Sword died in his heart-bloud was found near him,
Your private Conference at mid-night urg'd
With fair Calista; which by her whose pure truth,
Would never learn to tell a lie, being granted,
She by enrag'd Beronte is accus'd
Of Murther and Adultery, and you
(However I dare swear it false) concluded
Her principal Agent.
Lid. Wave upon wave rowls o'r me.
My Sister? my dear Sister?
Clar. Hold, great heart.
Fry. Tear open his Doublet.
Lis. Is this wound too narrow
For my life to get out at? Bring me to
A Cannon loaded, and some pitying friend
Give fire unto it, while I nail my breast
Unto his thundring mouth, that in the instant,
I may be piece-meal torn, and blown so far,
As not one joint of my dismember'd limbs
May ever be by search of man found out.
Cleander! Yet, why name I him? however
His fall deserv'd an Earth-quake, if compar'd
With what true honour in Calista suffers,
Is of no moment; my good Angel keep me
From Blasphemy, and strike me dumb before,
In th' agony of my spirit, I do accuse
The Powers above, for their unjust permission
Of Vertue, innocent Vertue, to be branded
With the least vicious mark.
Clar. I never saw a man so far transported.
Alc. Give it way, 'tis now no time to stop it.
Enter Lancelot.
Lanc. Sir, I have bought
Fresh horses; and as you respect your life,
Speedily back 'em; the Archers of the Kings guard
Are every where in quest of you.
Lis. My life?
Perish all such with thee that wish it longer,
Let it but clear Calista's innocence, [Strikes Lancelot.
And Nestor's Age, to mine was Youth, I'll flye
To meet the rage of my incensed King,
And wish his favourites Ghost appear'd in Flames,
To urge him to revenge; let all the tortures
That Tyranny e're found out circle me,
Provided Justice set Calista free.
[Exeunt Lisander, Alcidon, and Lancelot.
Alc. I'll follow him.
Lid. I am rooted here.
Fry. Remember your dear friends last request, your sisters dangers,
With the aids that you may lend her.
Lid. 'Pray you support me,
My Legs deny their Office.
Clar. I grow still
Farther engag'd unto his matchless vertues,
And I am dead indeed, until I pay
The debt I owe him in a noble way. [Exeunt.
Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.
Enter Dorilaus, and Servant.
Dor. Thou hast him safe?
Serv. As fast as locks can make him;
He must break through three doors, and cut the throats
Of ten tall fellows, if that he 'scape us;
Besides, as far as I can apprehend,
He hath no such invention, for his looks
Are full of penitence.
Dor. Trust not a Knaves look,
They are like a Whores Oaths;
How does my poor Daughter
Brook her restraint?
Serv. With such a resolution
As well becomes your Lordships Child. [Knock within.
Dor. Who's that?
Enter Lemure.
Serv. Monsieur Lemure.
Dor. This is a special favour,
And may stand an example in the Court
For courtesie; it is the Clients duty
To wait upon his Patron; you prevent me,
That am your humble Suitor.
Lem. My near place
About the King, though it swell others, cannot
Make me forget your worth and Age, which may
Challenge much more respect; and I am sorry
That my endeavours for you have not met with
The good success I wish'd; I mov'd the King
With my best advantage both of time and place,
I'th' favour of your Daughter.
Dor. How do you find his Majesty affected?
Lem. Not to be
Sway'd from the rigour of the Law; yet so far
The rarity of the Cause hath won upon him,
That he resolves to have in his own person
The hearing of it; her tryal will be noble,
And to my utmost strength, where I may serve her
My aids shall not be wanting.
Dor. I am your servant.
Lem. One word more; if you love Lisanders life,
Advise him, as he tenders it, to keep
Out of the way; if he be apprehended,
This City cannot ransom him; so good morrow. [Exit.
Dor. All happiness attend you; go thy ways,
Thou hast a clear and noble soul; for thy sake
I'll hold that man mine enemy, who dares mutter,
The Court is not the sphere where vertue moves,
Humanity, and Nobleness waiting on her.
Enter Servant.
Serv. Two Gentlemen (but what they are I know not,
Their faces are so muffl'd) press to see you,
And will not be deny'd.
Dor. What e'r they are, I am too old to fear.
Serv. They need no Usher, they make their own way.
Enter Lisander, Alcidon.
Dor. Take you yours, Lisander; [Exit Servant.
My joy to see you, and my sorrow for
The danger you are in, contend so here,
Though different passions, nay oppos'd in Nature,
I know not which to entertain.
Lis. Your hate should win the victory from both, with justice,
You may look on me as a Homicide,
A man whose life is forfeited to the Law,
But if (howe'r I stand accus'd) in thought
I sin'd against Cleanders life, or live
Guilty of the dishonour of your Daughter,
May all the miseries that can fall on man
Here, or hereafter, circle me.
Dor. To me this protestation's useless, I embrace you,
As the preserver of my life, the man
To whom my son ows his, with life, his honour,
And howsoever your affection
To my unhappy Daughter, though it were
(For I have sifted her) in a noble way,
Hath printed some taint on her fame, and brought
Her life in question, yet I would not purchase
The wish'd recovery of her reputation,
With strong assurance of her innocence
Before the King her Judge, with certain loss
Of my Lisander, for whose life, if found,
There's no redemption; my excess of love,
(Though to enjoy you one short day would lengthen
My life a dozen years) boldly commands me,
Upon my knees, which yet were never bent,
But to the King and Heaven, to entreat you
To flye hence with all possible speed, and leave
Calista to her fortune.
Lis. O blessed Saints, forsake her in affliction? can you
Be so unnatural to your own bloud,
To one so well deserving, as to value
My safety before hers? shall innocence
In her be branded, and my guilt escape
Unpunish'd? does she suffer so much for me,
For me unworthy, and shall I decline
(Eating the bitter bread of banishment)
The course of Justice to draw out a life?
(A life? I style it false, a living death)
Which being uncompell'd, laid down will clear her,
And write her name anew in the fair legend
Of the best women? seek not to disswade me,
I will not, like a careless Poet, spoil
The last Act of my Play, till now applauded,
By giving the World just cause to say, I fear'd
Death more than loss of Honour.
Dor. But suppose Heaven hath design'd some
Other saving means for her deliverance?
Lis. Other means? that is
A mischief above all I have groan'd under;
Shall any other pay my debt, while I
Write my self Bankrupt? or Calista owe
The least beholdingness for that which she
On all the bonds of gratitude I have seal'd to,
May challenge from me to be freely tender'd?
Avert it mercy! I will go to my Grave,
Without the curses of my Creditors;
I'll vindicate her fair name, and so cancel
My obligation to her, to the King,
To whom I stand accountable for the loss
Of two of his lov'd subjects lives, I'll offer
Mine own in satisfaction, to Heaven
I'll pay my true Repentance, to the times,
Present, and future, I'll be register'd
A memorable President to admonish
Others, however valiant, not to trust
To their abilities to dare, and do,
And much less for the airy words of Honour,
And false stamp'd reputation to shake off
The Chains of their Religion and Allegiance,
The principal means appointed to prefer
Societies and Kingdoms. [Exit.
Dor. Let's not leave him; his mind's much troubled.
Ale. Were your Daughter free,
Since from her dangers his distraction rises,
His cause is not so desperate for the slaughter
Of Cloridon, and Chrysanthes, but it may
Find passage to the mercy of the King,
The motives urg'd in his defence, that forc'd him
To act that bloudy Scene.
Dor. Heaven can send ayds,
When they are least expected, let us walk,
The hour of tryal draws near.
Alci. May it end well. [Exeunt.
Enter Olinda, and Lidian.