THE queen OF ARRAGON.  
A tragicomey.  
 
LONDON Printed by Tho. Cotes, for William Cooke, and are to be sold at his shop at Furnival's Inn gate in Holborn. 1640.   

The Actors Names.  

THe Queen of Arragon.  
Decastro General of the Forces of Arragon in love with the Queen.  
Ossuna Friend to Decastro.  
Florentio General of the Forces of Castille enamoured on the Queen.  
Velasco a great Commander under Florentio.  
Ascanio, the King of Castille disguised.  
Lerma a Noble man Privy to his disguise.  
Oniate a sober Courtier.  
Sanmartino, a half witted Lord.  
Browfilldora, Dwarf to Sanmartino.   

Floriana, wife to Sanmartino.  
Cleantha, a witty Court Lady.   

Captain.  
Servants.  
Several Soldiers.    

The Prologue at Court.  

HAd not obedience o'er ruled the author's fear  
And judgement too, this humble piece had ne'er  
Approached so high a Majesty, not writ  
By the exact and subtle rules of wit;  
Ambitious for the splendour of this night  
But fashioned up in haste for his own delight.  
This, by my Lord, with as much zeal as ere  
Warmed the most loyal heart, is offered here  
To make this night your pleasure, although we  
Who are the Actors, fear 'twill rather be  
Your patience: and if any mirth; we may  
sadly suspect, 'twill rise quite the wrong way.  
But you have mercy sir, and from your eye  
Bright Madam, never yet did lightning fly,  
But vital beams of favour such as give  
A growth to all, who can deserve to live.  
Why should the Author tremble then, or we  
Distress our hopes, and such tormentors be,  
Of our own thoughts, since in those happy times  
We live, when mercy's greater than the crimes    

The Prologue at the Friars.  

ERe we begin, that no man may repent  
Two shillings and his time; the Author sent  
The Prologue, with the errors of his Play,  
That who will, may take his money and away.  
First for the Plot, it's no way intricate  
By cross deceits in love, nor so high in state,  
That we might have given out in our Play-bill,  
This day's the Prince writ by Nick Machiavel.  
The Language too is easy, such as fell  
Unstudied from his pen, not like a spell  
Big with mysterious words, such as enchant  
The half witted, and confound the ignorant.  
Then what must needs afflict the Amourist,  
No Virgin here in breeches, casts a mist  
Before her Lovers eyes; No Ladies tell  
How their blood boil, how high their veins do swell.  
But what is worse, no bawdy mirth is here;  
(The wit of bottle Ale, and double Beer)  
To make the wife of Citizen protest,  
And Country justice swear, 'twas a good jest.  
Now sirs you have the errors of his wit:  
Like or dislike, at your own perils be't.    

THE queen OF ARRAGON.  

Actus Primus.  

Scena Prima.  Enter Sanmartino and Cleantha. Clean. 

MY Lord, let's change the subject: Love is worn  
So threadbare out of fashion, and my faith  
So little leans to vows.   San. 

The rage of time,  
Or sickness, first must ruin that bright Fabric,  
Nature took pride to build.   Clean. 

I thank my youth then  
For th' tender of your service: 'tis the last  
Good turn it did me, But by this my fears  
Instruct me, when the old bald man called Time  
Comes stealing on me, and shall steal away  
What you call beauty: my neglected face  
Must be enforced to go in quest for a new  
Knight Errant.   San. 

Slander not my constant faith,  
Nor doubt the care fate hath to stop the Motion  
Of envious Time, might it endanger so  
Supreme a beauty.   Clean. 

Sure my Lord fate hath  
More serious business, or Divines make bold  
T' instruct us in a schism. But grant I could  
Induce myself, (which I despair I shall)  
To hear and talk that empty nothing Love  
Is't now in season, when an Army lies  
Before our City gates, and every hour  
A battery expected? Dear my Lord  
Let's seal our testament, and prepare for heaven:  
And as I am informed by them, who seem  
To know some part o'th' way, Loves not the nearest  
Path that leads thither.   San. 

Madam! he is but  
A Coward Lover, whom or death or hell  
Can fright from's Mistress. And for danger now  
Threatening the City; How can I so arm  
myself, as by your favour, proof against  
All stratagems of war.   Cleant. 

Your Lordship then  
Shall walk as safe, as if a Lapland witch  
(You will not envy me the honour of  
The metaphor) preserved you shot-free. But  
Who is your Confessor? Yet spare his name  
His function will forgive the glory of it.  
Sure he's ill read in Cases to allow  
A married Lord the freedom of this Courtship.   San. 

Can you think Madam that I trust my sins  
(But virtues are those loves I pay your beauty)  
Toth' council of a Cassock? Who hath art  
To judge of my confession; must have had  
At least a Privy Chamberer to his Father.  
We of the Court commit not as the vulgar,  
Dull ignorant sins. Then that I'm married Madam  
Is rather safety to our Love.   Clean. 

My heart!  
How sick am I o'th' sudden? Good my Lord  
Call your dwarf hither.   San. 
Garaganta! Boy.  Enter Browfilldora. Clean. 
Prithee, thy pedigree.  San. 
Madam! What mean you?  Clean. 

O any thing, but to divert from Love.  
Another word of Courtship, and I swoon.   Garag. 

My Ancestors were Giants Madam. Giants  
Pure Spanish, who disdained to mingle with  
The blood of Goth or Moore. Their mighty actions  
In a small letter Nature Printed on  
Your little Servant.   Clean. 
How so very little?  Gar. 

By the decay of Time, and being forced  
From fertile pastures to the barren hills  
Of Biskay. Even in trees you may observe  
The wonder, which transplanted to a soil  
Less happy, lose in groat. Is not the once  
Huge body of the Roman Empire, now  
A very Pigmy?   Cleant. 

But why change you not  
That so Gigantic name of Brumfilldora.   Gar. 

Spite of malignant Nature, I'll preserve  
The memory of my forefathers: They shall live  
In me contracted.   San. 

Madam! let's return  
To th' love we last discoursed on.   Clean. 

This my Lord  
Is much more serious. What course thing is that?   Enter Oniate and Floriana. Flor. 
I owe you sir, for th' pleasure of this walk.  Oniate. 
Madam it was to me the highest honour.  Exit. Oniate. Clean. 

Welcome o welcome to redeem me. What  
Can the best wit of woman fancy, we  
Have been discoursing of?   Floria. 
Sure not of love?  Clean. 

Of that most ridiculous hobby horse Love;  
That fool that fools the world. That Spaniel Love  
That fawns the more 'tis kicked.   San. 
Will you betray me?  Clean. 

Thy Lord hath so protested Floriana;  
Vowed such an Altar to my beauty, swore  
So many oaths, and such profane oaths too;  
To be religious in performing all  
That's impious toward heaven, and to a Lady  
Most ruinous.   Floria. 

Good Cleantha: all your detraction  
Wins no belief on my suspicion.   Cleant. 

Be credulous and be abused. Floriana!  
There's no vice so great as to think him virtuous:  
Go mount your milk-white steed fit Lanceloi  
Your little squire attends you there. In suburbs  
Enchanted Castles are where Ladies wait  
To be delivered by your mighty hand,  
Go and protest there.   San. 
I thank your favour Madam.  Exit. Sanmar. Clea. 
It is not so much worth sir, come we'll follow.  Flor. 

But stay Cleantha. Prithee what begot  
That squeamish look, that scornful wry o'th' mouth  
When Oniate parted?   Clean. 

Why? Thou hadst  
So strange a fellow in thy Company  
His Garb was so uncourtly, I grew sick.   Flor. 

He is a Gentleman: and add to that  
Makes good the Title.   Clean. 

Haply he may so  
And haply he's enamoured on thy beauty.   Flo. 
On mine Cleantha?  Clean. 

Yes dear Floriana.  
Yet neither danger to thy chastity,  
Nor blemish to thy fame. Custom approves it.  
But I owe little to my memory,  
If ere I saw him 'mong the greater Ladies:  
Sure he's some suburb Courtier.   Flori. 

He's Noble:  
And hath a soul. A thing is questioned much  
In most of the gay youths, whom you converse with.   Clean. 
But how disorderly his hair did hang?  Flor. 
Yet 'twas his own.  Clean. 

How ill turned up his beard?  
And for his clothes.   Florian. 

Though not fresh every morning,  
Yet in the fashion.   Clean. 

Yes i'th' sober fashion:  
Which Courtiers wear who hope to be employed  
And aim at business. But he's not gentile:  
Not discomposed enough to Court a Lady.   Flor. 
His thoughts are much more serious.  Clean. 

Guard me Fortune!  
I would not have the Court take notice that  
I walked one hour with that state Aphorism,  
Each Autumn to renew my youth. Let us  
Discourse with Lords whose heads and legs move more  
Than do their tongues, and to as good a sense.  
Who snatching from my hand a Glove, can sigh  
And print a kiss, and then return it back.  
Who on my busk, even with a pin can write  
The Anagram of my Name: Present it humbly  
Fall back and smile.   Flor. 

Cleantha! I perceive  
There is small hope of thy conversion;  
Thou art resolved to live in this heresy.   Clean. 

Yes: since 'tis the Religion of our Sex.  
Sweet Floriana, I will not yet suffer  
For unregarded truth Court persecution. Enter Ossuna and Oniate with divers Soldiers.  
But what are they appear there?   Flor. 
we'll away.  Exeunt Floria. and Cleantha. Ossuna. 

This is the place for interview. You who're'ar  
Deputed for this service from the Lord  
Florentio, use such caution as befits  
Your charge. howe'er your general's persons safe:  
The Lord Decastro having passed his word.   Oniate. 

Yet 'tis my wonder, that Florentio  
A Soldier so exact, practised in all  
The mysteries of war and peace, should trust  
Himself where th' enemy's faith must best secure him   Ossun. 

The great Decastro sir, whom our late King  
Deputed regent at his death, and whom  
The Kingdom judgeth fit to marry with  
His only heir the present Queen (though she  
Disdain his love and our desires) hath proved  
To time and fortune, that he fears no danger  
But what may wound his honour. How can then  
Florentio (though he now set down before  
Our City with so vast an Army) choose  
A place for interview, by Art and Nature  
So fortified; as where Decastro's faith  
Makes it impregnable?   Oniate. 

Distrust my Lord,  
Is the best Counselor to great designs:  
Our confidence betrays us. But between  
These two are other seeds of Jealousy:  
Such as would almost force Religion break  
Her tying vows, authorize perjury,  
And make the scrupulous Casuist say, that faith  
Is the fool's virtue. They both love the Queen,  
Decastro building on his high deserts,  
And vote of Arragon: Florentio on  
The favour he gained from her Majesty  
When here he lived employed by his great Master  
King of Castille.   Ossuna. 

Such politic respects  
May warrant the bad statesman to dark actions.  
But both these Generals by a Noble war,  
Resolve to try their fate.   Oniate. 

But here my Lord  
Enter Sanmartino .Is a full period to all serious thought.  
This Lord is so impertinent, yet still  
Upon the whisper.   Ossuna. 

He's a mischief Sir,  
No Court is safe from.   Oniate. 

What fine tricks he shows  
Each morning on his jennet, but to gain  
A female Vision from some half-opened window,  
And if a Lady smile by accident  
Or but in scorn of him; yet he kind soul  
Interprets it as Prophesy to some  
near favour to ensue at night.   Ossuna. 

I wonder  
What makes him thought a Wit.   Oniate. 

A copper wit,  
Which fools let pass for currant. So false coin  
Such very Alchemy, that who vents him  
For aught but parcel ass, may be in danger:  
Look on him, and in little there see drawn  
The picture of the youth is so admired,  
Of the spruce Sirs: whom Ladies and their women  
Call the fine Gentlemen.   Ossuna. 

What are those papers,  
With such a sober brow, he looks upon?   Oniate. 

Nor platform, nor intelligence, but a Prologue;  
He comes to whisper to one of the Maids  
Ith' Privy chamber after supper.   Ossuna. 

I praise the courage of his folly yet,  
Whom fear cannot make wiser.   San, 

My good Lord!  
Brave Oniate! Saw you not the General?   Onia. 

He's upon entrance here. And how my Lord?  
I saw your Lordship turning over papers,  
What's the discovery?   San. 

It may import  
Decastro's knowledge. Never better language  
Or neater wit. A paper of such verses  
Writ by th' exactest hand.   Ossuna. 

In time of business  
As serious as our safety, to intrude  
The dreams of madmen?   San. 

My Judicious Lord!  
It with the favour of your Lordship may  
Concern the General. Such high rapture,  
In admiration of the Queen, whom he  
Pretends to Love. How will her Majesty  
Smile on his suit, when in the heat of business  
He not neglects this amorous way to woe her?   Enter Decastro. Decast. 

No man presume t'advance a foot. My Lord  
Ossuna I desire your ear.   San. 

My Lord  
I have a piece here of such elegant wit.   Decast. 

Your pardon good my Lord; we le find an hour  
Less serious to advise upon your papers,  
And then at large we'll whisper.   San. 

As you please  
My Lord you'll pardon the error of my duty.   Exit Sanmar. Ossun. 

The Queen my Lord gave free access to what  
I spoke o'th' public, but when I began  
To mention love.   Decast. 

How did she frown? Or with  
What murdering scorn, heard she Decastro named?  
Love! of thy labyrinth of Art, what path  
Left I untrodden? Humbly I have laboured  
To win her favour: and when that prevailed not;  
The Kingdom, in my quarrel, vowed to empty  
The veins of their great body.   Ossuna. 

Sir her heart  
Is mightier than misfortune. Though her youth  
Soft as some consecrated virgin wax,  
Seem easy for impression: Yet her virtue  
Hard as a rock of Diamond, breaks all  
The battery of the waves.   Decastro. 
Unkind and cruel!  Ossu. 

She charged me tell you that a faith less moor  
Who had gained honour only by the ruin  
Of what we hold religious, sooner she  
Would welcome to her bed; than who t' his Queen  
And Love had been a Rebel.   Decast. 

How? A rebel?  
The people's suffrage, which inaugurates Princes,  
Hath warranted my actions.   Ossun. 

But she answers  
The subtle Arts of faction, not free vote  
Commanded her restraint.   Decast. 

May even those stars  
Whose influence made me great, turn their aspects  
To blood and ruin; if ambition raised  
The appetite of Love. Her beauty hath  
A power more Sovereign, than th' Eastern slave  
Acknowledged ever in his Idol King.  
To that I bowed a subject. But when I  
Discovered that her fancy fixed upon  
Florentio (General now of th' enemy's Army)  
I let the people use their severe way:  
And they restrained her.   Ossuna. 

But my Lord their guilt  
Is made your crime. Yet all this new affliction  
Disturbs her not to anger, but disdain.   Decast. 

She hath a glorious spirit. Yet the world  
The envious world itself must justify;  
That howsoever Fortune yielded up  
The Sceptre to my power; I did but kiss it  
And offered it again into her hand.   Enter Florentio, Velasco, and others. Oniate. 
My Lord, the General of Castille, Florentio.  Decast. 

He's safely welcome. Now let each man keep  
At a due distance. I have here attended  
Your Lordship's presence.   Floren. 

O my Lord! are we  
Whom Love obligeth to the same allegiance,  
Brought hither on these terms?   Decast. 

Th' are terms of honour.  
And I yet never knew to frame excuse,  
Where that begot the quarrel.   Floren. 

Yet methinks  
We might have found another way to it.  
We might have sought out danger, where the proud  
Insulting moor, profanes our holy places.  
The noise of War had been no trouble then,  
But now too much 'twill fright the gentle ear  
Of her we both are vowed to serve.   Decastro. 

That Love  
Which arms us both, bears witness, that I had  
Much rather have encountered lightning; than  
Create the least distraction to her peace.  
But since the vote of Arragon decrees  
That my long Service hath the justest claim  
To challenge her regard; Thus I must stand  
Armed to make good the title.  
This vain language  
Scarce moves my pity. What desert can rise  
So high to merit her? Were each short moment  
Oth' longest lived Commander lengthened to  
An age, and that exposed to dangers mighty  
As Cowards frame them; can you think his service  
Might challenge her regard? Like th' heavenly bounty  
She may distribute favour: But 'tis sin  
To say our merits may pretend a title.   Decastro. 
You talk Sir like a Courtier.  Floren. 

But my Lord  
You'll find a soldier in this Arm: which strengthened  
By such a cause, may level mountains high  
As those the Giants (emblems of your thoughts)  
Piled up to have scaled heaven.   Decasto. 

That must be  
Decided by the sword. And if my Lord  
Our interview hath no more sober end,  
Than a dispute so froward; Let us make  
The trumpet drown the noise.   Floren. 

You shall not want  
That Music. But before we yielded up  
Our reason unto fury; I desired  
We might expostulate the ground of this  
So fatal war: and bring you to that low  
Obedience Nature placed you in.   Decast. 

My ear  
Attends you.   Floren. 

Where is then that humble zeal  
You owe a Mistress; if you can throw off  
That duty which you owe her as your Queen?  
What justice (that fair rule of humane actions)  
Can you pretend for taking Arms?   Decastro. 
Pray forward.  Floren. 

I'll not deny (for from an enemy  
I'll not detract) during her nonage, when  
The public choice, and her great father's will,  
Enthroned you in the government; you managed  
Affairs with prudence equal to the fame  
You gained: And when your sword did fight her quarrel,  
'twas crowned with victory.   Decast. 
I thank your memory.  Floren. 

But hence ambition and ingratitude  
Drew only venom. For by these great Actions,  
You laboured not t' advance her state or honour;  
But subtly wrought upon the people's love:  
A love begot by error, following still  
Apparency not truth.   Decast. 
You construe fairly.  Floren. 

The sun is not more visible, when not  
One cloud wrinkles the brow of heaven. For  
On that false strength you had i'th' multitude,  
You swelled to insolence: dared court your Queen:  
Boasting your merit; like some wanton Tyrant  
Ith' vanity of a new conquest. And  
When you perceived her judgement did instruct her  
To frown on the attempt; profanely 'gainst  
All Laws of Love and Majesty, you made  
The people in your quarrel seize upon  
The Sacred person of the fairest Queen,  
Story ere boasted.   Decast. 
Have you done my Lord?  Floren. 

Not yet. This injury provoked my master  
To raise these mighty Forces for her rescue:  
And named me General, whose aim is not  
A vain ambition, but t' advance her service  
Ere we begin to punish, take this Offer:  
Restore the Queen to liberty, with each  
Due circumstance that such a Majesty  
May challenge, freely to make choice of whom  
She shall advance to th' honour of her bed.  
If your deserts bear that high rate you mention;  
Why should you doubt your fortune? On these terms  
The King, King of Castille may be induced  
To pardon th' error of your ruin.   Decast. 

Thus  
In short my answer. How unlimited  
soe'er my power hath been, my reason and  
My love hath circumscribed it. True, the Queen  
Stands now restrained: But 'tis by the decree  
Of the whole Kingdom, lest her error should  
Persuade her to some man less worthy.   Floren. 
How?  Decast. 

Less worthy than myself. For so they judge  
The proudest subject to a Foreign Prince.  
But when you mention love, where are your blushes?  
What can you answer for the practising  
The queen's affection, when Ambassador  
You lay here from Castille; pretending only  
Affairs importing both the Kingdoms? Nor  
Can you my Lord be taxed by your discretion,  
That by the humblest Arts of Love, you labour  
To win so bright a beauty, and a Queen  
So potent. Your affection looks not here,  
Without an eye upon your profit.   Floren. 
Witness Love.  Decast. 

No protestation. If you will withdraw  
Your Forces from our Kingdom, and permit  
Us to our Laws and Government; That peace  
Which hath continued many ages Sacred,  
Stands firm between us. But if not.   Floren. 
To Arm.  Decast. 

Pray stay my Lord. Doth not your Lordship see  
Th' advantage I have in the place: with how  
Much ease I may secure my fortune from  
The greatest danger of your Forces?   Flo. 

Ha!  
'twas inconsiderate in me. But I trusted  
To th' honour of your word, which you'll not violate.   Decast. 

Go safely off my Lord. And now be dumb;  
All talk of peace: we'll parley in the drum.   Exeunt several ways, the Drum beating.   

Actus Secundi.  

Scena Prima.  Enter Sanmartino, Captain, Soldier, and Garaganta. Captain. 

COme on you atlases of Arragon:  
You by whose powers the Castilian cloud  
Was forced to vanish. We have firked Florentio,  
In the right Arm: made the enamoured Donn  
Retire to doleful Tent.   Sanmar. 
We sallied bravely.  Cap. 

Thou didst i'th' sally fight like lightning Conde,  
Let th' air play with thy plume, most puissant Peer.  
No Conde Sanmartino now; but Conde  
S. George, that Cappadocian man at Arms,  
Thou hast done wonders, wonders big with story,  
Fit to be sung in lofty Epic strain:  
For writing which the Poet shall behold,  
That which creates a Conde, gold. Gold which  
Shall make him wanton with some suburb Muse,  
And hippocrene flow with Canary billow.  
thouart high in feat of Arm.   San. 

Captain I think  
I did my part.   Captain. 

Base is the wight that thinks,  
Let Condes small in spirit drink harsh sherry,  
Than quarrel with promoting knights, and fine for't  
Thou art in mettle mighty, tough as steel  
As bilbo or Toledo steel. Fight on.  
Let Acres sink, and bank of money melt,  
Forsake thy Lady's lap, and sleep with us  
Upon the bed of honour, the chill earth.  
'tis that will make thee held a potent Peer,  
'mong men o'th' Pike, of buff, and bandelier.   San. 
Thou speakest brave language Captain,  Captain. 

I'll maintain  
'tis Arragonian, Conde.   Garagan. 

Captain Cedar,  
Though in thy language lofty, give a shrub  
Leave to salute thee. Sure we two are near  
In blood and great attempt. Don Hercules  
Was as I read in Chaldeon Chronicle,  
Our common Ancestor. Don Hercules  
Who rifled Nymph on top of Apennine.   Captain. 
Small Imp avaunt.  Garagan. 

Stout sturdy Oak, that grows  
So high in field of Mars, o let no tempest  
Shake thee from hence. And now I have with labour  
Attained thy language, I'll thy truchman be,  
Interpret for thee to those smaller souls,  
Who wonder when they understand not. Souls!  
Whom Courtiers gaudy outside captives,  
And plume of colonel.   Captain. 

I must expire.  
Not talk to fish. Seest thou that man of match  
Though small in stature, mighty he's in soul,  
And rich in gifts of mind, though poor in robes:  
Reward like Phillip's heir his daring arm,  
Which fetched thee off from danger. Once again  
Most doughty Don adieu.   Garagan. 

Great Don Saltpetre,  
I am the servant of thy famed caliver.   San. 
These are strong lines. Now friend! Art thou o'th' garrison?  Soul. 
If't please your Lordship.  San. 

It doth not please me,  
It is indifferent. I care not what thou art.  
Art thou extremely poor?   Soul. 
if't please your Lordship.  San. 

No not that neither. Why should I malign  
So far thy fortune, as to wish thee poor?  
'twere safer for my purse, if thou wert rich:  
Then all reward were base.   Soul. 
if't please your Lordship.  San. 

O no more Prologue. Prithee the first Scene,  
To th' business man.   Soul. 

Then I must tell your Lordship.  
I scorn that wealth makes you thus wanton, and  
That wit which fools you. Did the royal favour  
Shine but on you, without enlarging warmth  
To any other, I in this torn outside  
Should laugh at you, if insolent.   San. 
This is saucy.  Soul. 

I tell thee petulant Lord, I'll cut thy throat  
Unless thou learn more honour.   San. 

What shall I do? Enter Floriana, and Cleantha.  
But see Cleantha. Not to be made Grandee,  
Would I she should discover me in parley  
With such course clothes. There fellow take that gold,  
And let me see thy face no more. Away.   Throws back the money. Soul. 

There 'tis again. I will not owe one hour  
Of mirth to such a bounty. I can starve  
At easier rate, than live beholding to  
The boast of any giver. Lord! I scorn  
Thee and that gold which first created thee.   Exit. Sould. Flor. 

That Soldier seemed to carry anger in  
His look my Lord.   San. 
What should his anger move me?  Clean. 

O no my Lord: The world speaks wonders of  
Your mighty puissance.   Flor. 

'tis my joy you're safe.  
But why adventured you into this quarrel?   Cleant. 

The Queen will hardly thank your valour: since  
They of Castille professed themselves her Soldiers.   San. 

The Queen must pardon courage: Men who are  
Of daring Spirit, so they may but fight  
Examine not the cause.   Flori. 
She doth expect us.  Clean. 

I will attend her here. For here she gives  
Decastro audience. I must not lose  
This Lord yet, it so near concerns my mirth.   San. 

Madam! I wonder with what confidence  
You after such an injury, dare endanger  
Discourse with me.   Cleant. 

I injure you my Lord?  
Whose favour I have courted with more Zeal  
Than well my Sex can warrant? Triumph not  
Too much upon my weakness; cause you have  
Got victory o'er my heart, take not delight  
To make my grief your sport.   San. 

Be witty still,  
And keep me for a Trophy of your pride,  
I hope to see that beauty at an ebb;  
Where will be then your overflow of servants?  
You'll then repent your pride.   Clean. 

O never, never.  
If you'll particularize your vows to me;  
You who to th'title of the Courtly Lord,  
Have added that of valiant. And beshrew me,  
She's no good housewife of her fame, that wants  
A daring servant.   Sanmar. 
This perhaps may work.  Cleant. 

If she live single; he preserves her name  
And scarce admits a whisper, that the Jealous  
May construe points at her. And if she marry;  
He awes the husband, if by chance or weakness,  
She have offended.   San. 
This cannot be fiction.  Clean. 

Then if she use but civil compliment  
To a Courtier Bachelor; He straight be speaks  
The Licence, and the Favours, and calls in  
Some wit into his Council for the Posy,  
While I feel no tentation to such folly  
But with a married Lord.   San. 
How gentle Madam?  Clea. 

Our walks are privileged, our whispers safe,  
No fear of laying contracts to my charge,  
Nor much of scandal. And if there be cause,  
Who is so fond a gamester of his life,  
As merely out of spleen to stake it? But  
My Lord I now suspect you construed ill  
That language I used to your Lady, when  
I told her of your love. But I presume  
You were not so dull sighted as in that  
Not to discern the best disguise for love.   San. 

What a suspicious ass was I? How captious?  
I ne'er mistrusted my own wit before.  
Mischief how dull was I?   Clean. 

Pray turn your face  
Away. Now know when worth and valour are  
Led on by love to win my favour. But  
The Queen.   Enter Queen Decastro, Ossuna, Floriana, etc. San. 
Divine Cleantha! Noblest Lady!  Decast. 

Ossuna let me beg thy care. Though we  
Bravely repulsed the enemy: They seem  
To threaten a new assault.   Ossuna. 
Command your servant.  Decast. 

Bear then a vigilant eye, and by your scouts  
Learn if they any new attempt prepare. Exit. Ossuna.  
May't please your Majesty, command these many  
Ears from your presence.   Queen. 

Good my Lord! you who  
Have power to guide your Queen, may make our presence  
Or full or empty as you please.   Decast. 

Then with  
Your licence Madam they may all with draw.   Queen. 

Not with our licence. If your usurped greatness  
Will banish all attendance from our person;  
I must remain alone. But not a man  
Stir hence with our good liking.   Decast. 

If your will  
(Averse from sober council) would submit  
To safe advice.   Queen. 

You have instructed it  
To more obedience, than I guess my birth  
Did ere intend. But pray my Lord teach me  
To know my fault and I will find amendment  
If not, repentance for it.   Decast. 

Then great Madam  
I must acquaint you that the supreme Law  
Of Princes, is the people's safety: Which  
You have infringed, and drawn thereby into  
The inward parts of this great state a most  
Contagious Fever.   Queen. 
Pray no Metaphor.  Decast. 

You have invited war to interrupt  
With its rude noise, the music of our peace,  
A foreign enemy gathers the fruit,  
The sweat and labour of your subjects planted.  
In the cool shadow of the Vine we pruned  
He wantonly lies down, and roughly bids  
The owner press the grape: that with the juice  
His blood may swell up to lascivious heats.   Queen. 

My Lord I answer not th' effects of war,  
But I must pay Castille all thankful service,  
For his fair charity.   Decast. 

Do you then Madam  
Reckon on mischief as a charity?   Queen. 

Yes, such a mischief as is merciful,  
And I a Queen oppressed. But how dares he  
Whose duty ought with reverence obey,  
And not dispute the counsels of his Princess,  
Question my actions? Whence my Lord springs this  
Ill tutored privilege?   Decast. 

From the zeal I owe  
The honour of our Nation: Over which  
Kings rule but at the Courtesy of Time.   Queen. 

You are too bold: And I must tell your pride  
It swells to insolence. For were your nature  
Not hoodwinked by your interest, you would praise  
The virtue of his courage, who took Arms  
To an injured lady's rescue.   Decast. 

'twas ambition,  
Greedy to make advantage of that breach  
Between you and your people, armed Castille;  
Unpitied else you might have wept away  
The hours of your restraint.   Queen. 

Poor erring man!  
Could thy Arts raise a tempest blacker yet  
Such as would fright thyself. It could not for  
One moment cloud the splendour of my soul.  
Misfortune may benight the wicked, she  
Who knows no guilt can sink beneath no fear:   Decast. 

Your Majesty mistakes the humble aim  
Of my address. I come not to disturb  
Th' harmonious calm your soul enjoys: May pleasure  
Live there enthroned, till you yourself shall woo  
Death to enlarge it. May felicities  
Great as th' Ideas of Philosophy  
Wait still on your delight. May fate conspire  
To make you rich and envied.   Queen. 

Pray my Lord  
Explain the riddle. By the cadence of  
Your language, I could guess you have intents  
Far gentler than your actions.   Decast. 

If your ear  
Great Madam, would convey into your heart  
The story of my love. My love, a flame.   Queen. 

Leave off this history of love, and flame,  
And honestly confess your fears my Lord,  
lest Castille should correct you.   Decast. 

Correct me?  
No Madam, I have forced them t' a retreat.  
And given my fine young General cause to wish  
He had not left his amorous attempts  
On Ladies, to assault our City.   Queen. 
But he is not wounded?  Decast. 

Not to death perhaps,  
But certainly w' have opened him a vein,  
Will cure the Fever of his blood.   Queen. 
O stay!  Decast. 

Torment! And doth she weep? I might have fall'n  
Down from some murdering precipice to dust,  
And missed the mercy of one tear: though it  
Would have redeemed me back to life again.  
Accurst be that felicity that must  
Depend on woman's passion.   Queen. 
Florentio!  

If in my quarrel thou too suddenly  
Art lost i'th' shades of death; o let me find  
The holy vault where thy pale earth must lie,  
There I will grow and wither.   Decast. 

This is strange!  
My heart swells much too big to be kept in.   Queen. 

But if that Providence which rules the world  
Hath to preserve the stock of virtue, kept  
Thee yet alive.   Decast. 

And what, if yet alive?  
Pray recollect your reason and consider  
My long and faithful service to your crown:  
The fame of my progenitors, and that  
Devotion the whole Kingdom bears me. How  
Hath nature punished me, that bringing all  
The strength of argument to force your judgement,  
I cannot move your love?   Queen. 

My Lord you plead  
With so much arrogance, and tell a story  
So gallant for yourself, as if I were  
Exposed a prize toth' cunningest Orator.   Decast. 

No Madam, humbler far than the tanned slave kneels.  
Tied to the Oar, I here throw down myself  
And all my victories. Dispose of me  
To death, for what hath life, merits esteem?  
What tie, Alas, can I have to the World?  
Since you disdain my love.   Floria. 

Will you permit  
The General kneel so long?   Queen. 

Fear not Floriana,  
My Lord knows how to rise, though I should strive  
To hinder it.   Decast. 

Here statue-like I'll fix  
For ever, till your pity (for your love  
I must despair) enforce a life within me.   Alarum and Enter Ossuna. Ossuna. 

O my Lord!  
To arm, to arm. The enemy encouraged  
By a strange leader, wheeled about the town,  
And desperately surprised the careless guard.  
One gate's already theirs.   Decast. 
Have I your licence.  Queen. 

To augment your own command, and keep me still  
An humble captive.   Decast. 

Madam! your disdain  
Distracts me more, than all th' assaults of fortune.   Exeunt all but the Queen, Floriana, and Cleantha. Queen. 

My fate! O whether dost thou lead me? Why  
Is my youth destined to the storms of war?  
What is my crime, you heavenly powers! that it  
Must challenge blood for expiation!   Clean. 
Madam!  Queen. 

Fortune! O cruel! For which side soe'er  
Is lost, I suffer: either in my people,  
Or slaughter of my friends. No victory  
Can now come welcome, the best chance of war  
Makes me howe'er a mourner.   Cleant. 

Madam, you  
Have lost your virtue, which so often vowed  
A clear aspect, what cloud soever darkened  
Your present glory.   Queen. 

I had thoughts Cleantha:  
But they are vanished: what shall we invent  
To take off fear and trouble from this hour?  
Poor Floriana. Thou art trembling now  
With thought of wounds and death to which the courage  
Of thy fierce husband like a headstrong jade,  
May run away with him. But clear thy sorrows.  
If he fall in this quarrel, thou shalt have  
Thy choice 'mong the Castilian Lords. And give  
My judgement faith, there be brave men among them.   Flor. 

Madam, I have vowed my life to a Cloister  
Should I survive my Lord.   Queen. 

And thou art fearful  
Thou shalt be forced to make thy promise good.  
Alas poor soul! Enclosure and course diet,  
Much Disciple and early prayer, will ill  
Agree with thy complexion. There's Cleantha!  
She hath a heart so weaned from vanity,  
To her a Nunnery would be a Palace.   Clean. 

Yes, if your Majesty were Abbess. Madam,  
But Cloister up the fine young Lords with us,  
And ring us up each midnight to a Masque  
In steed of Matins; And I stand prepared  
To be professed without probation.   Drum beats. Flor. 
Hark! What noise is that?  Queen. 

'tis that of death and mischief.  
My griefs! but I'll dissemble them. Yet why,  
Cleantha being the sole beauteous Idol  
Of all the superstitious youth at Court;  
Remainest thou yet unmarried?   Cleant. 

Madam I  
Have many servants but not one so valiant  
As dares attempt to marry me.   Queen. 

There's not a wit but under some feigned name  
Implores thy beauty, sleep cannot close up  
Thy eyes, but the sad world benighted is,  
Or else their sonnets are Apocryphal.  
And when thou wakest the Lark salutes the day,  
Breaking from the bright East of thy fair eyes.  
And if 'mong thy admirers there be some  
Poor drossy brain who cannot rhyme thy praise,  
He woos in sorry Prose.   Enter Servant. Ser. 

Half of the City  
Already is possessed by th' enemy,  
Our soldiers fly from the Assailants, who  
With moderation use their victory.  
So far from drawing blood, th' abstain from spoil.   Queen. 

My comforts now grow charitable, This  
Is the first dawning of some happier fortune.   Flor. 
Where did you leave my Lord?  Ser. 
Retiring hither.  Queen. 

And your good nature will in time Cleantha  
Believe all flattery for truth.   Clean. 

In time  
I shall not. But for th' present Madam give  
Leave to my youth to think I may be praised,  
And merit it. Hereafter when I shall  
Owe Art my beauty, I shall grow perhaps  
Suspicious there's small faith in Poetry.   Que. 

Canst thou think of hereafter? Poor Cleantha!  
Hereafter is that time thouart bound to pray  
Against. Hereafter is that enemy  
That without mercy will destroy thy face,  
And what's a Lady then?   Clean. 

A wretched thing.  
A very wretched thing. So scorned and poor  
'twill scarce deserve man's pity. And I'm sure  
No Alms can ere relieve it.   Queen. 
Floriana,  

You yield too much to fear. Misfortune brings  
Sorrow enough: 'tis envy to ourselves,  
T'augment it by prediction.   Enter Sanmartino. Cleant. 
See your Lord.  San. 

Fly Madam fly. The Army of Castille  
Conducted by an unknown leader, masters  
The Town. Decastro yielding up his fate  
To the prevailing enemy is fled.   Cleant. 
And shall the Queen fly from her friends my Lord?  Sanmar. 

You have reason Madam. I begin to find  
Which way the Gale of favour now will blow,  
I will address to the most fortunate.   Exit. Sanmar. Queen. 

Some Music there, my thoughts grow full of trouble,  
I'll recollect them.   Clean. 

May it please you Madam  
To hear a song presented me this morning.   Queen. 
Play any thing.  During the Song, Enter Ascanio, Lerma, Sanmartino, etc. Ascanio. 

Cease the uncivil murmur of the drum:  
Nothing sound now but gentle, such as may not  
Disturb her quiet ear. Are you sure Lerma  
Th' obedient Soldier hath put up his sword?   Lerma. 

The Citizen and soldier gratulate  
Each other, as divided friends new meeting.  
Nor is there execution done but in pursuit  
Of th' enemy without the walls.   Asca. 
'tis very well. My Lord is that your Queen?  San. 
It is the Queen sir.  Asca. 

Tempered like the Orbs:  
Which while we mortals weary life in battle,  
Move with perpetual harmony. No fear  
Eclipseth the bright lustre of her cheek.  
While we who infants were swathed up in steel,  
And in our cradle lulled asleep by th' Cannon,  
Grow pale at danger.   San. 

I'll acquaint her sir  
That you attend here.   Ascanio. 

Not for a diamond  
Big as our Apennine. She's heavenly fair.  
And had not Nature placed her in a throne;  
Her beauty yet bears so much Majesty,  
It would have forced the World to throw itself,  
A captive at her feet. But see, she moves!  
I feel a flame within me, which doth burn  
Too near my heart: And 'tis the first that ever  
Did scorch me there.   San. 

Madam here's that brave Soldier  
Which reinforced the Army of Castille.  
His name as yet unknown.   Ascanio. 

And must be so.  
Nor did I merit name before this hour,  
In which I serve your Majesty, enjoy  
The fortune of my sword your liberty.  
And since your Rebel subjects have denied  
Obedience, here receive it, from us strangers.   Queen. 

I know nor sir to whom I owe the debt,  
But find how much I stand obliged.   Ascanio. 

You owe it  
To your own virtue Madam, and that care  
Heaven had to keep part of itself on earth  
Unruined. When I saw the Soldier fly,  
Sent hither from Castille to force your rescue,  
Their General hurt almost to death. I urged  
Them with the memory of their former deeds,  
Deeds famed in War. And so far had my voice  
(Speaking your name) power to confirm their spirits  
That they returned with a brave fury, and  
Yield you up now your own humbled Arragon.   Queen. 

My ignorance doth still perplex me more.  
And to owe thanks yet not to know to whom,  
Nor how to express a gratitude, will cloud  
The glory of your victory, and make  
Me miserable however.   Ascanio. 

I must penance  
My blood with absence, for it boil too high. aside  
When we have ordered your affairs, my name  
Shall take an honour from your knowledge Madam.   Queen. 

You have corrected me. Sir we'll expect  
The hour yourself shall name, when we may serve.   Ascanio. 

I'm conquered in my victory. But I'll try  
A new assault: And overcome, or die.   Exeunt.   

Actus Tertius.  

Scena Prima.  Enter Velasco and Oniate. Oniate. 

MY Lord it shows a happy Discipline  
Where the obedient soldier yields respect  
To such severe commands. Now when victory  
Gives licence to disorder.   Velasco. 

Sir our General  
The Lord Florentio, is a glorious Master  
In th' art of war. And though time makes him not  
Wise at th' expense of weakness or diseases; yet  
I have beheld him by the easy motion  
But of his eye, repress sedition,  
When it contemned the frown of Majesty  
For never he, who by his PRINCE's smile  
Stood great at Court, attained such love and awe  
With that fierce viper the repining people.   Onia. 

Our Kingdom owes its safety to that power.  
For how dejected looked our magistrate  
When conquest gave admittance to the Souldier?  
But how their fears for sooke them, when they saw  
You entry with such silence?   Velasco. 

Sir, castile  
Aimed not at spoil or ruin in this war,  
But to redress that insolence, your Queen  
Did suffer under, in Decostro's pride.   Oniate. 

And yet Auxiliaries oft turn their swords  
To ruin, whom they come to rescue.   Velasco. 

The Barbarous keep no faith in vows. But we  
We of Castille, though flattering advantage  
Persuade to perjury, have still observed  
Friendship inviolate: No Nation suffering  
To which we give our oath.   Oniate. 

You speak my Lord  
Your glories Nobly. And it is our joy  
Your general's wound but frighted us.   Velasco. 

The Surgeons  
Affirm there is no danger, and have licenced  
His visit to the Queen.   Oniate. 

'tis thought howe'er  
His Love had not obeyed such a restraint,  
Though death had threatened him. But in his health  
Consists the common safety, since those Forces  
Decastro in the morning did expect,  
Ere you the Town assaulted, are discovered  
To which he fled expelled the City.   Velasco. 

Sir,  
We shall contemn and with ease break that Army,  
Whose General we have vanquished: having won  
The City and your Queen into our power.   Enter Sanmartino. San. 

Save you my Lord! Sir your most obedient!  
And how likes your good Lordship the great Acts  
Of the strange Cavalier? was not his conduct  
Most happy for you, in the late assault?   Velasco. 

He happily supplied the Office of  
Our General. howe'er your City had  
Been ours. For though our Spanish Forces may  
At first seem beaten, and we to retreat  
A while, to animate a giddy enemy.  
Yet we recover by our Art and patience  
What fortune gives away. This unknown leader  
(I know not how to style him) pressed among  
Our Soldiers, as they were returning back  
After a small repulse: Encouraged them,  
(Though it was much superfluous) and got honour,  
Perhaps not so deservingly: But 'twas well.   Oniate. 
Your Soldier speaks his glory even with wonder.  Velasco. 

The ignorant are prone to it. But sir  
I think in our whole army there fought none,  
But who had equal spirit. Fortune may  
Bestow success according to her dotage.  
I answer not for that.   San. 

This is pure Castille.  
But what is his birth, Country, quality,  
And whether is he bound?   Velasco. 

I seldom trouble  
My language with vain questions. Some report  
(It not imports who are the Authors) that  
His Country's Sicily; his name Ascanio,  
(Or else some sound like that) that he's a Lord:  
(But what's an Island Lord?) and that he came  
Into our continent to learn men and manners.  
And well he might: for the All-seeing sun  
Beholds no Nation fiercer in attempt,  
More stayed in council.   Oniate. 

He's of a brave presence,  
I never saw more Majesty in youth  
Nor never such bold courage in a face  
So fashioned to delight.   San. 

The Queen commends him  
Almost with wonder.   Velosco. 

Did the Queen regard  
A man unknown?   Oniate. 

His merits spoke his worth,  
And well might challenge a particular eye.   San. 

But his, as if in that dumb Oratory,  
He hoped to talk all th' history of love,  
Still sixth upon her.   Velasco. 
Your most humble servant.  Exit. Velasco. Oniate. 
This is abrupt.  San. 

What most politic flea  
Is got into his Donship's ear?   Oniate. 

Now must  
The Junto sit till midnight, till they rack  
Some strange design from this intelligence.   Enter Cleantha and offers to go out. San. 
Nay on my honour Madam!  Clean. 
Good my Lord!  San. 

Benight us not so soon. The short lived day  
That gives the Russian in the winter hope  
Of heat yet fails him; not so suddenly  
Forsakes the firmament. Stay fairest Madam,  
That we may look on you and live.   Clean. 

My Lord  
I fear you two were serious.   San. 

Never I  
Upon my Conscience Madam.   Oniate. 

No I'll swear:  
Nor none of the whole form of you at Court,  
Unless the stratagem be for a Mistress,  
A fashion, or some cheating match at tennis.   Clean. 

But happily that Gentleman had business,  
His face betrays my judgement, if he be  
Not much in project.   San. 

You mistake him Madam.  
Though he talk positive, and bustle 'mong  
The Sober Lords, pretend to Embassies  
And state designs all day; He's one of us  
At night: he'll play, he'll drink, you guess the rest,  
he'll quarrel too, then underhand compound.  
Why for a need he'll jeer and speak profane,  
Court and then laugh at her he courted. Madam  
Forgive him his pretence to gravity;  
And he's an absolute Cavalier.   Clean. 

My Lord  
He owes you for this fair certificate:  
Yet I fear your character's beyond his merit.   Oniate. 

Madam dissemble not so great a virtue.  
Nor to obey the tyranny of custom,  
Become the Courts fair hypocrite. I know  
This vanity for fashion sake you wear,  
And all those gaieties you seem t' admire  
Are but your laughter.   Clean. 

Sir your charity  
Abuseth you extremely.   Oniate. 

Come you cannot  
Disguise that wisdom, which doth glory in  
The beauteous mansion it inhabits. Madam  
This soul of mine, how course soe'er 'tis clothed,  
Took th' honour to admire you, soon as first  
You shined at Court. Nor had a timorous silence  
So long denied me to profess my service,  
But that I feared I might be lost i'th' crowd  
Of your admirers.   Clean. 

Nor can I perceive  
Any strong hope now to the contrary.   Oniate. 

Nor I. But give me licence t' undeceive  
The world, that so mistakes you. This young Lord  
Flatters his folly that indeed you are  
Sick of that humour, you but counterfeit.  
Believes you're frail and easy; since if not,  
His courtship were without design.   Cleant. 

My Lord  
What means the Gentleman? He hopes to talk me  
Into a virtue I ne'er practised yet,  
And much suspect I never shall.   San. 

Pray Madam  
Pardon his ignorance: 'tis want of breeding.   Onia. 

Pardon your mirth fair Madam, and brush off  
This honoured dust, that soils your company;  
This thing whom Nature carelessly obtruded  
Upon the world to teach, that pride and folly  
Makes titular greatness th' envy but of fools,  
The wise man's pity.   Sanmar. 
Sir your words are rude.  Oniate. 

Sure no, my Lord: Perhaps in times of yore  
They might be construed so, when superstition  
Worshipped each Lord an idol. Now we find  
By sad experience, that you are mere men,  
If vice debauch you not to beasts.   San. 

The place  
Is privileged sir.   Oniat. 

I know it is, and therefore speak thus boldly,  
If you grow hot, you have your grots my Lord,  
And in your Villa you may domineer  
o'er th' humble Country Gentleman, who stands  
A loof and bare.   Clean. 

My Lord leave off the combat  
you're hard matched. And see the Lord Florentio. Enter Florentio and Velasco.  
The Queen attends his coming. Sir voule find  
A more convenient school to read this lecture.   Oniate. 
But none so beautiful to hear me.  Exeunt several ways Sanmartino, Cleantha, and Oniate. Floren. 

And are you sure my Lord, he durst presume  
To look up at her?   Velasco. 

Yes, and she commends  
His person and his spirit.   Floren. 

'twas too much  
T' observe his person. Sure his spirit's great,  
And well may challenge the queen's memory:  
I have not seen him yet.   Velasco. 
Nor I my Lord.  Flor. 

He had a fortune gentler far than mine.  
In envy of that service which I vowed  
To Arragon; heaven used a stranger's arm  
In this great action: I was judged a thing  
Unfit for use.   Velasco. 

Your glory was the greater,  
Your courage even opposing 'gainst your fate  
In the attempt.   Floren. 

But yet mistaking man  
Esteems the happy only valiant.  
And if the Queen (Velasco) should smile on  
His merits, and forget that love I have  
With such religion paid her. But these doubts  
Are impious: and I sin, if I but listen  
To their disloyal whispers. And behold, Enter the Queen, Floriana, Cleanitha, etc.  
She opens like a rock of Diamond;  
To th' curious search of th' almost bankrupt merchant,  
So doth the Pilot find his star, when storms  
Have even sunk his bark. Divinest Madam!   Queen. 

Welcome my Lord! But pardon me my joys  
If I must interrupt you with a sigh.  
I cannot look upon Florentios' arm,  
But I must grieve it bled for me.   Flo. 

O spare  
The treasure of those tears! Some captive King,  
Whom fortune hath locked up in iron, wants  
One such to buy his freedom. Madam all  
Those streams of blood which flow to warm my earth  
lest it congeal to death, cannot compare  
For value with the least drop shed for you:  
By such a quarrel made inestimable.   Queen. 

The war I see hath only been the field  
To exercise your fancy. Your discourse  
Shows that the Court was kept beneath your tent;  
Yet cannot I my Lord be jealous but  
'tis mingled with some love.   Floren. 

'tis a pure love,  
unmixed as is the soul. The world perhaps  
May judge a kingdom hath enamoured me,  
And that your titles dress you forth, to raise  
My appetite up higher. Pardon love,  
If it grow envious even of your fortune;  
And that I me foc't to wish, you had been daughter  
Of some poor mountain cottager, without  
All dowry but your own beauty. Then I might  
Have showed a flame untainted with ambition:  
And courted you. But now the circumstance  
Of greatness seems to challenge more than I  
Have power to give: and working up my love,  
I serve my fortune.   Queen. 

You have not my Lord  
Found me uneasy to your vows. And when  
The troubled stream of my tempestuous state  
Shall meet a perfect calm: you then shall know  
How worthy I esteem your virtue.   Flor. 

Speak but those words again, and seat me in  
An Orb above corruption! O confirm  
Your thoughts but with a promise.   Queen. 

How, a promise?  
I shall repent my favour if I hear  
A syllable that sounds like that. Upon  
My marriage day I have vowed to bring myself  
A free oblation to the holy Altar.  
Not like a fearful debtor, tender love  
To save my bond. My Lord I must not hear  
One whisper of a promise.   Floren. 

I'm silent.  
And use me as your Vassal, for a title  
More glorious I shall never covet. But   Queen. 
No jealousy my Lord.  Enter Lerma. Lerma. 

Your Majesty  
Is great in mercy: And I hope á stranger  
Shall meet it, if his speech be an offence.   Queen. 
Your pleasure sir.  kneels. Lerma. 

The Lord Ascanio charged  
Me fall yet lower if the earth would licence.  
For to so high a Majesty, obedience  
Cannot bend down enough. Then he commanded,  
I in his name, should beg the honour for him,  
Before he take his journey from your Country,  
To kiss your hand.   Queen. 

Pray sir let's know the hour,  
But let it not be sudden. Years should sweat  
In preparation for his entertainment,  
And Poets rack invention till it reach  
Such praises as would reach the victories  
Of th' old Heroes.   Lerma. 

Madam, if his arm  
Did action's worthy memory; it received  
An influence from your quarrel: In the which  
A dwarf might triumph o'er an Army: But  
He humbly craves, his audience may not be  
With crowd and noise as to Ambassadors;  
But with that silence which befits his business:  
For 'tis of moment.   Queen. 

Sir, we will obey  
His own desires, though ours could wish his welcome  
With a full ceremony. I attend him.   Exit. Lerma. Floren. 
Madam this stranger.  Queen. 

Pray my Lord let Love  
Not interrupt your business. I believe  
The Army which Decastro so expected  
Being now arrived, your soldier tired, the City  
Ill settled in her faith, much council will  
Be needful. When your leisure shall permit,  
Our joy shall be to see you.   Floren. 
I'm all obedience.  Exeunt Queen and Florentio, at several doors. Manent Sanmartino, and Cleantha. San. 

And when sweet Madam will you crown our joys?  
Let's not like riotous gamesters throw away  
The treasure of our time. Appoint the hour,  
The hour which must wear garlands of delight,  
By which we'll make it th' envy of the age.   Clean. 
My Lord what mean you?  San. 

What all fine Lords mean,  
Who have plenty, youth, and title.   Clean. 
But my fame?  San. 
'tis the fool's bugbear.  Clean. 
Then my conscience?  San. 

A scarecrow for old wives, whom wrinkles make  
Religious.   Clean. 
What will the Court say?  San. 

Why nothing.  
In mercy to themselves, all other Ladies  
Will keep your council.   Clean. 
But will you not boast it?  San. 
I'll be degraded first.  Clean. 
Well I'm resolved.  San. 

But when sweet Madam? Name  
The moment.   Clean. 

Never. For now I weigh things better,  
The antidote 'gainst fear is innocence.   San. 

Will you delude my hopes then? Pity Madam  
A heart that withers, if denied this favour.   Clean. 

In pity I may be induced too much;  
And since you urge compassion, I will meet.   San. 
Where excellent Madam?  Clean. 
Ith' Sycamore walk.  San. 
The minute, o the minute?  Clean. 
An hour hence.  San. 

felicity! fit for thy envy Love!  
You will not fail now Madam?   Clean. 

To be such  
As you shall count that hour your happiest.   Exeunt. Enter Browfilldora, and Oniate. Oniate. 

This is a challenge! Prithee my small friend  
May not a man take th' height of thy Lords spirit,  
Looking on thee?   Browfill. 

Pray sir leave off your mirth  
And write my Lord your answer.   Oniate. 

Little sir,  
I never learned that pretty quality;  
I cannot write. Only by word of mouth.   Garagan. 
Your place sir?  Oniate. 
The market place.  Garag. 

'tis fantastic: and my Lord will take it ill.  
Your weapon's sir.   Oniate. 

Two English Mastiffs, which  
Are yet but whelps, and not transported hither:  
So that the time will be I know not when.   Garag. 

Your sport is dangerous. If my Lord forgive you;  
I must resent th' affront as to myself,  
And will expect a most severe account.   Onia. 
Thou less thought angrier thing than wasp, farewell.  Exeunt. Enter Queen and Ascanio. Queen. 

I am informed my Lord that you have business,  
And 'tis of moment:   Ascanio. 

Great as that of Natures  
In her most mighty work, Creation.  
For to preserve from dissolution, equals  
The gift of our first Being. Not to hold  
Your Majesty in riddles, 'tis to beg  
Your pardon for a Soldier doomed to die;  
Inevitably doomed: Unless your mercy  
Step between him and death.   Queen. 

My Lord we use  
T' examine well the fact, for which he is  
To suffer, ere we pardon. There be crimes  
Of that black quality, which often makes  
Mercy seem cruel.   Ascanio. 

That's the fear which frights  
Me to this paleness: sure his crime is great  
But fondly I presuming on the service  
My fortune lately did you, gave my vow  
ne'er to forsake your ear with earnest prayers,  
Till you had granted.   Queen. 

Would you had not vowed.  
For by the practice of my enemies,  
My fame is 'mong the people yet unsettled,  
And my capacity for government,  
Held much too feeble. Should I then by this  
Provoke them to disdain me, I might run  
Apparent hazard even of ruin, now  
War so distracts our Kingdom. But my Lord  
Your merits are too ponderous in the scale,  
And all respects weigh light, you have his pardon.   Asca. 

Your hand on that. The down on the Swans bosom, kisses and holds it.  
Not white and soft as this: Here's such a dew  
As drops from bounteous heaven in the morning,  
To make the shadowy bank pregnant with violets.   Queen. 
My Lord!  Ascanio. 

I kissed it, and the Phoenix seemed  
(The last of the whole race) to yield a perfume  
More sweet than all his dying Ancestors  
Breathed from their funeral piles. O shrink not back!  
My life is so concomitant with love,  
That if you frown on either both expire;  
And I must part for ever hence.   Queen. 

How strange appears this ecstasy? My Lord I fear  
Your brain feels some disturbance: If I cause it,  
I will remove the object.   Ascan. 

Pardon Madam  
The error of my fancy (which oft seems  
To see things absent) if my tongue did utter  
What misbecame your ear. And do not forfeit  
Your servant to perpetual misery  
For want of a short patience.   Queen. 

No my Lord;  
I have the memory of your great deeds  
Engraved so deep; no error can have power  
To raze them from a due respect. You begged  
To have a pardon. speak th' offender's name.   Ascan. 

Th' offender's name, is Love. His crime, high treason:  
A plot how to surprise and wound your heart;  
To this conspirator I have given harbour,  
And vowed to beg your mercy for him.   Queen. 
How?  Asca. 

And if you break your grant, I will hereafter  
Scorn all your Sex, since the most excellent  
Is cruel, and inconstant.   Queen. 

Pray my Lord  
Go recollect your reason, which your passion  
Hath too much scattered. Make me not have cause  
To hate, whom I would ever strive to honour.   Ascanio. 

Madam you haply scorn the vulgar earth  
Of which I stand compacted: And because  
I cannot add a splendour to my name  
Reflective from a royal pedigree;  
You interdict my Language. But be pleased  
To know, the ashes of my ancestors  
If intermingled in the Tomb with Kings  
Could hardly be distinguished. The Stars shoot  
An equal influence on the open cottage,  
Where the poor shepherds child is rudely nursed,  
And on the cradle where the Prince is rocked  
With care and whisper.   Queen. 
And what hence infer you?  Ascanio. 

That no distinction is 'tween man and man,  
But as his virtues add to him a glory,  
Or vices cloud him.   Queen. 

But yet heaven hath made  
Subordination, and degrees of men,  
And even religion doth authorise us  
To rule; and tells the subject 'tis a crime  
And shall meet death, if he disdain obedience.   Ascan. 

Kind heaven made us all equal, till rude strength  
Or wicked policy usurped a power,  
And for Religion, that exhorts t' obey  
Only for its own ease.   Queen. 

I must not hear,  
Such insolence 'gainst Majesty: And yet  
This less offends than love.   Ascanio. 

If reason bends  
You not to mercy; let my passion plead,  
And not meet death from her, in whose fair quarrel  
I could each moment bring a life to th' hazard.  
Philosophy, hath taught me that content  
Lives under the course thatch of Labourers  
With much more quiet, then where the famed hand  
Of Artists, to the life have richly drawn  
Upon the roofs the fictions of the Gods.  
How happy then might I lengthen my life,  
With some fair Country Girl, so ignorant  
She knew not her own beauties: Rather than  
Endanger death and scorn in your denial,  
And in your grant nothing but pomp and envy.   Quee. 

My Lord be wise, and study that best content.  
This bold presumptuous love, hath canceled all  
The bonds I owed your valour: henceforth hope  
Not for that usual favour I show strangers,  
Since you have thus abused it: would I might  
With safety have appeared more grateful.   Exit. Asca. 

She's gone, as life from the delinquent when  
Justice sheathes up her sword. I fain would have  
Concealed loves treason, but desire t' obtain her  
Put me to th' torture, till each Nerve did crack,  
And I confessed, then died upon the rack.   Exeunt.   

Actus Quartus.  

Scena Prima.  Enter Cleantha and Floriana. Floria. 

THy pride is such a flatterer of thy beauty,  
That no man sighs by accident, but thou  
Dost pity as enamoured.   Clean. 
Floriana!  

Not so kind natured surely. I have put  
The sighs of Courtiers in a scale, and find  
Some three score thousand may weigh down a feather.  
I have tried their tears, which though of briny taste,  
Can only season th' hearts of fools, not women.  
Their vows are like their duels, ever grounded,  
Upon the idlest quarrel.   Floria. 

This, experiences  
Perhaps instructs you to. But yet your pride  
I fear is over easy to believe.  
'tis merely to fly idleness, that my Lord  
Hath troubled you with courtship. If the Queen  
Would make a statesman, she might cure a Lover.  
Want of employment made him dream on beauty,  
And yours came first t' his fancy.   Clean. 

I begin  
To think his making love but vanity,  
And a mistake in wit.   Floria. 

And you begin  
Perhaps to fear it?   Clean. 

True, perhaps I do.  
For though we care not for the Lover, yet  
We love the passion. Though we scorn the offering  
We grieve to see it thrown away, and envy  
If consecrated to another. Woman  
Hath no revenge 'gainst th' injury of custom,  
Which gives man superiority, but thus  
To fool him to subjection.   Floria. 

Yet Cleantha!  
I could have wished your charity had spared  
This triumph o'er my Lord.   Clean. 

You see I take  
The next way to redeem him. This the hour,  
And this the place. Here he resolves to raise  
A trophy in my ruin. And behold Enter Sanmartino, winding up his watch.  
The just man of his promise. Not a minute  
He fails; when sin's the payment.   Floria. 

I'll endanger  
His virtue to a blush: And happily  
Convert an Infidel.   Clean. 

This is my province,  
Nor shall you envy me the honour of  
A work of meritorious. Let him walk  
A while, and sin with his own fancy: Then  
I'll undertake him: and if there be need,  
Be you prepared to assist me.   Floria. 

Thou dost build  
Such Forts on the opinion of thy wit.   Exeunt Floriana and Clean. San. 

'tis a full hour, and half a minute over.  
And yet she not appears? How we severe  
Strict Creditors in love, stand on the minute?  
But yet the payment never comes unwelcome,  
Until the gold, through age grow soul and rusty,  
We stand not on a grain or two too light. Enter Dwarf.  
Now your discovery?   Dwarf. 

My Lord I have  
Made search in every Ally, every Arbour,  
Not left a bush, wherein my littleness  
Could creep without due scrutiny. And yet  
No whispering of taffety: No dazzling  
Of your bright Mistress forced me to a wink.  
I saw no mortal beauty.   San. 

Sure she'll not  
Be so unworthy to delude me now?   Dwarf. 

But I had a more prosperous fate in love,  
My Lord I met my mistress.   San. 
You, a mistress?  Dwarf. 

A Mistress to whose beauty I have paid  
My vows, most fervent vows, ere since I was  
Of stature fit to be an Amourist.   San. 
One of the Maids of honour to Queen Mab?  Dwar. 

Your Lordship guesses near. For she is one  
Oth' Chamberers to her Fairy Majesty;  
A Lady of most subtle wit: who while  
She puts a handkerchief or gorget on  
Her little highness, holds intelligence  
Abroad, and orde's payment for the Spies.  
She raiseth factions, and unites the angry.  
She's much upon design.   San. 
Where found you her?  Dwarf. 

Walking alone under the shadow of  
A Tulip, and inveighing 'gainst Court Arts,  
'Cause one of Oberon's Grooms had got from her  
The Monopoly of transporting gnats,  
A project she long aimed at.   San. 

No more fooling.  
I am grown angry with my patience.  
Boy, sing those verses, were presented me  
This morning.   Dwarf. 

I will creep behind a bush,  
And then for voice, vie with the Nightingale:  
If seen I am so bashful.   Sanmar. 

Take your way. Song Without. As the Song ends Enter Cleantha veiled.  
She breaks forth like the Morning in a Cloud.  
'tis for the safety of my eyes, you veil  
The glory of your beauties, which else might  
Dazzle, not catch the sight. But I discern  
A fair Cleantha through this gloominess.  
Appear, and speak bright Madam. Why such silence?  
O famish not my ear, which greedily  
Longs to devour the Music of your Language:  
Is it to teach me that delight must be  
Entombed in secrecy? Or else to show  
How mad a spendthrift I'm to talk away  
The treasure of this hour. Come fair unveil.   Clean. 
O give me leave, yet to retain my blushes.  San. 

Deceit of timorous modesty! Traitors  
To love your blushes are. Your fears are envious  
Of your delights. Let's vanish hence and near  
To th' vulgar eye again appear: Till we  
Grown old in pleasure be transformed t' a Vine  
Or Ivy, so for ever to entwine.   Clean. 
Then I unveil.  San. 

O fly into my arms,  
As a rich odour to the ravished sense:  
Perfume me with thy kisses.   Clean. 

Stay my Lord:  
Actions of moment (as I take this is)  
Must be maturely thought on. I have called  
My reason to account.   San. 
Your reason Madam?  Clean. 

Yes my good Lord. That only doth distinguish  
A woman from bruit beasts; or what's more sensual,  
A vain loose man. What sin scandals my carriage  
To give encouragement to this presumption?  
What privileged this attempt?   San. 
That tempting beauty.  Clean. 

It is a traitor then to my pure thoughts:  
And to preserve your eye, would it were wrinkled;  
I could much easier suffer the reproach  
Of age, than your bold courtship. If a Lady  
Be young and sportive, use curiosity  
And perhaps Art, to help where nature seemed  
Imperfect in her work, will you, from the  
False argument of your own loose blood, conclude  
Her guilty? Or if she select a friend;  
Whose innocence gives warrant to her faith,  
Will you infer their whispers have no aim  
But that of Brothels? 'cause you find yourself  
Nought but loose flesh, will you turn Heretic,  
And thence deny the soul?   San. 

This language Madam  
Sounds nothing to the purpose of our meeting.   Clean. 

More to the benefit. But in your patent,  
'Mong all the privileges of a Conde  
Where find you lust inserted? Without which  
Till age hath made you wise or impotent,  
You think your honour is defective. 'Cause  
Your clothes are handsome, and mine too; must we  
Deform our minds? Is it sufficient motive  
To sin, if opportunity and youth  
Persuade us? Such as you, are those foul plagues  
Infect the air which breathes our fame, and make  
The cautious sirs o'th' Country shun us.   San. 
Madam?  Clean. 

When we admit you to our bedchamber,  
Powder, or haply bathe before you. What  
Of honour's here more than a groom may boast,  
Our maids are tired with? Yet this with a smile  
Is whispered to your friend, and you infer  
How easy a more near approach will be.  
My Lord learn virtue, and your wit may then  
Not serve you to so fond a purpose. If  
That courage you are famed for be no slander,  
Go to the wars. 'twill be a far less maim  
To lose an eye there than your honour here.  
If peace enamour you, and the Court, live honest;  
And hope the heir who shall succeed you, may  
Be yours. Revenge destroys more chastity,  
Than all the temptings of such Lords as you.   San. 

You shall not talk me Madam from that pleasure  
This hour doth promise me.   Clean. 

You'll not commit  
A rape my Lord?   San. 

That is a question as  
Yet unresolved. For force is my last refuge.   Clean. 

Think on the danger; for the sin I see  
Little distracts your conscience.   San. 

I propose  
felicity, which none can merit, who  
Refuse so poor a venture. Here I vow  
No prayer or Art shall free you. If you will  
Hazard a life devoted to your service,  
I'll die your Martyr.   Clean. 

Come my Lord, I'll free you  
From all such hazard.   San. 
There spoke harmony.  Clean. 

I'll not be cruel. You shall have kisses, such  
As will melt your soul into your lips. And what  
Is sweetest, no repentance shall be th' issue Enter Floriana and Oniate.  
Of your delight. Look here my Lord. She's yours.   San. 

No halter now? Not tree convenient? O!  
A steeple would be precious for my purpose!  
But Oniate's there. I'll fight with him;  
Be killed, and be redeemed. Sir you received  
A challenge from me! but returned no answer.   Oniate. 
My Lord I had other business: you'll excuse me.  San. 
What satisfaction do men give, when challenged?  Oniate. 

According to their spirit. If they be  
Regardless of their fame, than they submit.  
If not, they fight.   San. 
What Sir, will you then do?  Oniate. 
Let me consider. Neither.  San. 
Come you shall fight.  Oniate. 
My Lord I will not.  San. 

Then you shall subscribe  
yourself a coward.   Oniate. 

Not for the whole world:  
Such an apparent lie would be a sin  
Too heavy to my conscience. I subscribe  
myself a coward? If I should; no soldier  
Would think but that my hand were counterfeited.   San. 
Then you must fight.  Oniate. 
My Lord on no condition. Hope not for it.  San. 

Then you shall swear, never to speak my name  
But with respect.   Oniate. 

Hereafter, if you can  
Deserve it. For the present, I must crave  
Your pardon with much mirth to laugh at you.   San. 
Sir I shall meet you.  Oniate. 

It shall contradict  
All my endeavours then.   San. 
I go sir. But.  Exit. Sanmar and Floria. Clean. 

For mercy's sake go with thy Lord. Repentance  
May turn to desperation.   Floria. 
I'll preserve him.  Clean. 

Have you no business sir, imports you more  
Than t'hold discourse with me? Troth I shall pity  
You want employment.   Oniate. 

Madam, what can be  
More serious?   Clean. 

Nothing more: If your design  
Be to convert me; for I know you hold  
All Ladies in a Schism, who are young and proud.   Oniate. 

Your pardon Madam. I believe in cunning,  
Court Ladies choose some petty venial errors,  
To set perfection off. For should you not  
Usurp a handsome pride, your fame would lie  
Like unwalled Cities, open to the prey  
Of each invading youth. Did you not show  
A scorn, you would deserve it.   Clean. 

Sir take heed.  
Hope not to win my favour, by extolling  
What in our better thoughts ourselves condemn.  
I am so wearied out with vows and oaths,  
With impious praises and most tedious flattery:  
That nothing but plain speaking truth, can gain  
On my affection.   Oniate. 
Madam! your affection?  Clean. 

Pray sir do not comment upon the word;  
It doth portend no danger to you.   Oniate. 

And if it did, where's the beatitude?  
For though I grant you virtues great as beauty  
Can entertain; and foolish I resolved  
To captivate my stock of life t' a woman:  
Yet would I not adventure on you, if  
You did not vow to perform Articles.   Clean. 
Suppose the business come to Articles.  Oniate. 

Ith' first than you should covenant love, not squinting  
On every finer youth, or greater Lord;  
But looking straight on me.   Cleant. 
To the second sir.  Oniate. 

No dotage on the Court, so far that my  
Estate must rue it: and no vanity  
Be started up, but my fond Lady must  
Be melancholy, and take physic, till  
She get into it.   Clean. 

Why! You envy then  
Us our own trouble. Keep us from the expense  
And leave us to our discontent for penance.   Oniat. 

No. I would have the mind serene: Without  
All passion, though a mask should be presented;  
And you i'th' Country. I must have you wise,  
To know your beauty mortal: which you must  
Preserve to warm my eye: not aid by Arts,  
To keep the courtier's wit in exercise.  
From his so practised flattery, your care  
Must turn with a brave scorn; and when his eye  
Doth offer parley, seem so ignorant  
As not to understand the language.   Clean. 

Sir  
You haply will debar us our she friends too?   Oniate. 
As secret enemies who's first betray you.  Clean. 

You'll not allow us, wearied of our husbands,  
To send them on discovery of new worlds?  
Or if we take a toy ourselves to travel,  
Perhaps to Barbary, or Tartary,  
Or the remotest parts?   Oniate. 
To Bedlam sooner.  Clean. 

Or if our Sex should warrant it by custom,  
To play at tennis, or run at the Ring,  
Or any other Martial exercise;  
I fear me scrupulous sir, you will condemn it  
As dangerous to my honour?   Oniate. 
Sure I should.  Clean. 
I then perceive small hope of our agreement.  Oniate. 

But I a confidence. For I discern  
How much you loathe these follies, you pretend.   Clean. 

Good sir no more of this so kind mistake,  
You'll find some other Lady more deserves it.  
And I aspire not to the honour.   Oniate. 
I'll try yet farther.  Exeunt Oniate Cleantha. Enter Lerma and Velasco. Lerma. 
My Lord you offer nobly.  Velasco. 

'tis a step  
Beneath Florentio's greatness, whether you  
His birth consider, or his place. Sir the Queen  
By natures seated and her high deserts,  
Where only mighty souls (such as the Generals)  
May offer to aspire.   Lerma. 

My Lord your laps  
To this proud language is so injurious, that  
I must be forced to purge the humour. That  
The Lord Florentio offers by a duel  
To show no man can have fairer pretence  
To serve the Queen; must be allowed. But that  
You dare cast disregard upon this Lord  
Although a stranger, urgeth me to entreat  
you'd draw your sword:   Velasco. 

It hath seen light, and made  
Way through an Army, when fond victory  
Smiled on our enemies. It hath done wonders,  
When the thick troops of moors invaded us,  
It fears no opposition.   Lerma. 
Show th' effect of 't.  Velasco 

Not in a cause so trivial. Each small breath  
Disturbs the quiet of poor shallow waters:  
But winds must arm themselves, ere the large sea  
Is seen to tremble. Pray your pardon sir:  
I must not throw away my courage on  
A cause so trivial.   Lerma. 

As you please my Lord;  
But to omit all circumstance, you bring  
A challenge to my Lord Ascanio:  
The reason of the Lord Florentio's anger,  
A rivalship in Love.   Velasco. 
You speak it right.  Lerma. 

I'll bring you back his resolution,  
Before you have attended many minutes.   Velasco. 

Sir 'twill be descent, for my nature knows  
Not how to wait. And if no delays  
Be used, 'twill show a fierce valour in him,  
And happily prevent discovery.  
For you may easily conjecture, that  
A general's absence soon will wake the eye  
Of the suspicious Soldier.   Lerma. 

Is my Lord  
In readiness.   Velasco. 
He walks not far from hence  Lerma. 
You shall have use then but of a short patience.  Exit. Velasco. 
It will be grateful to us sir: My Lord.  Enter Florentio. Floren. 
And will Ascanio meet?  Velasco. 
Immediately.  Floren. 

I had no other way. Yet this is rough,  
And Justice whispers 'tis unsafe to tread it.  
If to love her be sinful, what am I?  
How dare I call his passion to the bar,  
And nourish it myself? Why may not he  
Who hath as bold a fortune, entertain  
As bold a love; and in the fate of war  
Having outgone by service, why not then  
Present it to the selfsame Altar? But  
We cannot harbour both in the same Port;  
Or he or I am shipwrecked: for the storm  
Is raised, and to appease it, death must be  
The sacrifice.   Enter Lerma. Velasco. 

My Lord here is the second.  
This stranger dares not meet with your great spirit.   Floren. 

Suspect him not my Lord. He hath a courage  
Above the sense of fear. Well sir your answer?   Lerma. 

My Lord Ascanio could have wished his life  
Might have been destined to a happier purpose.  
And charged me tell your Lordship that he had  
Much rather have been lost with common dust,  
In the cheap Churchyard, than endangered fame  
In this great duel.   Floren. 
Sir explain his reasons.  Lerma. 

He calls to his sad thoughts, the mischiefs which  
This Kingdom needs must fall into when you  
Shall perish by his sword; certainly  
You cannot scape it, thus provoking death.  
Then to what ruin may the Queen, whose safety  
You both have laboured, be engaged? He could  
With patience almost suffer on his name,  
The infamy of coward, rather than  
Hazard the quiet of her estate. But you.   Floren. 

Let me consider; 'tis an idle rage  
That heats me to this quarrel, Let her fate  
Remain unshaken, though she choose my foe  
Into her love and bosom. If she live  
Above the fear of ruin; I am mighty,  
Mighty enough, though by my griefs grown feeble  
And weakened too, diseases fright the healthy.  
I will refer my cause and life to her,  
And ne'er dispute it by the sword.   Velasco. 
My Lord!  Floren. 

Velasco, I am safe enough against  
The taint of Coward. Spain bears witness that  
I dare, as far as honour dares give warrant.  
But in this cause.   Velasco. 

My Lord you'll lose the glory  
Of all your former Actions; and become  
The mirth of Courtiers, empty things who brawl  
Not fight, if you return after a challenge  
Without performance.   Floren. 
'tis a serious truth.  Velas. 

Moreover this young Gentleman hath hope  
To talk you from your resolution:  
The Lord Ascanio will too much exult,  
If this way too he can o'ercome you.   Floren. 

It must not be sir, tell my Lord I wait  
His leisure.   Lerma. 

And your Lordship shall not have  
Reason to think it long. Prepare yourself  
His only prayer is now; that when he comes  
There may be no discourse to take up time,  
He hath desire the business may be all:  
What he can say, hath been by me delivered.   Exit. Floren. 

We will obey him. Tyrant Love! Why is  
Thy cruelty so wanton to delight  
In murder? Like that impious Roman Prince,  
Thou joyest to smother, whom thou lov'st, in Roses,  
And stifle them with the choicest perfumes. But  
This is no place for reason; She may hold  
Dispute in sober schools, where study raises  
The soul to knowledge. Here's the Theater  
For the bruit part of man to fight his last,  
I must redeem the Laurel, fortune crowned  
His Temples with, or perish in th' attempt.  
My fate decrees it.   Enter Ascanio, and Lerma. Lerma. 
Here's my Lord Ascanio.  Floren. 

Why doth he turn his face away as if  
He durst not look on danger: Do his fears  
Now triumph o'er his courage.   Lerma. 
Put it to the trial.  They fight. Floren. 

He's more than Mortal sure. He strikes like lightning  
Himself not passive. But I'll try again,  
And disenchant the Sorcerer. I there  
I reached him home. You bleed, open your doublet  
The wound perhaps is dangerous.   Ascanio. 
But a scratch.  Floren. 

Sure I have heard that voice, and seen that face,  
Velasco 'tis the King.   Ascanio. 
My Lord what mean you?  Floren. 

Some Planet strike me dead, and fix this arm  
A monument to tell posterity  
The treason of my error: Mighty sir,  
Show mercy to your Creature, that my death  
(Which hastily steals on me) may not be  
Too foul for after story.   Ascanio. 

Rise Florentio,  
This act cannot endure the name of Treason.   Floren. 

Some Surgeons quick to search the wound! O sir  
How do you feel yourself? speak life, or I  
Shall sink down to my Centre.   Ascanio. 

Not a man  
Stir hence, thy sword was loyal as thy thoughts,  
And scarce hath pierced the skin. O my Florentio.   Floren. 

My Lord and King! But why did you engage  
Your sacred person into danger? 'twas not well;  
How many thousand lives depend on yours?   Ascanio. 

Envy o'th' greatness I possessed, without  
The merit, and desire to know those perils  
We wantonly our subjects cast upon  
On every weak exception; wrought my youth  
Into this action. Nor can I repent  
Th' experience of this waire?   Floren. 

But oh great sir,  
Why did your Majesty suffer this duel?  
'twas cruel and unkind. How easily  
This hand might have committed sacrilege?  
The very thought whereof, like some pale vision  
Congeals my blood.   Ascanio. 

Search not that wound too deep.  
Florentio! I shall blush, blushed like some Lady  
Surprised in sin, if you too far examine.   Floren. 

Conceal it not great sir, though in the speaking  
Poison steal through my ear. Be confident,  
Unveil your thoughts.   Ascanio. 

You needs must hate me then:  
And will have Justice to throw off that duty  
You owe me as a subject. Let it be  
Unspoken still; though smothering it be death  
Good heaven descend. What is an Army of us  
Exposed to certain slaughter, if compared  
To th' shortest moment that should serve your quiet?  
And shall I live and see my Sovereign wear  
A sorrow, on his brow?   Ascanio. 

Florentio! thou  
Art glorious in thy virtue. So was I  
Till looking on the Queen I grew o'th' sudden  
Darker than midnight?   Floren. 
O my cruel fate!  Ascanio. 

I grew a thief, a most ungrateful thief  
In my designs, and laboured to have stole  
The Jewel of thy life from thee. A Jewel,  
myself so freely had bestowed upon  
The merits of thy youth.   Floren. 
My soul foresaw this.  Ascanio. 

How justly had I perished by thy sword.  
How happy for my safety. Then had I  
Been lost in my disguise; or died, my crime  
Unknown unto the world. Now if I live  
I must wade through a sea of injuries,  
T'attain an unsafe haven.   Enter the Queen. Floren. 

Cheer yourself  
Dread sir: Though as I give the Legacy  
I breathe my last; yet will I show a heart  
Thankful to your great favours. Madam, here  
Behold the Sovereign of Castille.   Queen. 

You have  
Been cruel in your kindness Sir, to keep  
So long your sacred person hid from us.   Floren. 

He is your Lover Madam, and deserves  
The title. Whether you observe his youth,  
So beauteous, Nature dotes upon her work:  
Or weigh his greatness powerful to defend you,  
Should fate and all mankind conspire your ruin;  
And add to that, he merits you, his sword  
Having restored you freedom: when poor I  
Was judged like some old instrument of war  
Unfit for service. All my interest  
I here resign to th' Author of my fate;  
My Love I cannot, which must still remain,  
Companion to my life. But I'll take heed  
My wound appear not, though it inward bleed.   Exit. Ascan. 

I wait here Madam, and attend your sentence  
For 'tis my doom.   Queen. 

Sir I am that sad wretch,  
Stands trembling at the bar. I know your merit,  
And know a gratitude, great as ere was owing,  
By an injured soul relieved. I duly weigh  
That double tie which doth oblige me yours.  
First when you sent your soldiers to my rescue;  
Then by exposing your most sacred person  
To th' dangers of a war.   Ascanio. 
A trivial nothing.  Queen. 

What honour can come equal to my state  
As by so high a match? And 'gainst your person  
The envious cannot find a quarrel.   Asca. 

Madam  
All this is circumstance, the politic  
Busy their fancy with. I bring a love,  
An humble love, which is of value to  
Ennoble the parched labourer, and force  
An Empress listen to his vows. Consider  
In me nothing of fortune, only look  
On that, to which Love new created me.  
If once received your servant; what's Castille  
In the comparison? For Princes are  
Too bold, if they bring wealth and victory,  
To enter competition with those treasures  
A Lover aims at in his Mistress favour.  
May I not hope your smile?   Queen. 
You must command it.  Asca. 

Then give me leave to whisper to my hopes  
What strange felicities I shall enjoy.   Queen. 

But sir, consider how you gave away  
To your Florentio, all that claim, you might  
Have to me, as so great a neighbouring Prince.   Ascan. 

It was a gift my ignorance made, which I  
Was cozened in. For had my eye been honoured  
With sight of such a beauty; safer he  
Might have petitioned for my Sceptre: And  
The grant had not so soon begot repentance.   Queen. 

But promises of Princes must not be  
By after Arts evaded? Who dares punish  
The breach of oath in subjects; and yet slight  
The faith he hath made them?   Ascan. 

But my Florentio,  
Hath given me back his interest.   Queen. 

That gift  
Was like a vow extorted, which Religion  
Cancels, as forced from Conscience.   Asca. 

But yourself  
Are free, and never by an oath made his.   Queen. 

My resolution, grounded on his service,  
Ties more than formal contracts.   Asca. 

I'll not urge  
You father, but by these, which never yet  
Found passage through my eyes not he, nor all  
Mankind contracted to one heart, can harbour  
A love that equals that I burn with, Madam  
Think on't: and let your thoughts find out that path  
Which leads to mercy.   Exit. Ascanio. Queen. 

How I am dazzled,  
Placed on a precipice by tyrant Love?  
The King is Noble, and his merits claim  
A retribution great as I can make.  
He loves me; and yields only to Florentio,  
In the priority of service. My sad soul! Enter Florentio, looks on the Queen, sighs and goes in again.  
Between these two I might stand distracted!  
But Virtue guide me: Nor can I ere stray  
While that directs, and honour beats the way.   Exeunt.   

Actus Quintus.  

Scena Prima.  Enter Decastro and his Army. Decast. 

MY fortune yet forsakes me not. There's something  
Whispers my soul, that though a storm did cloud  
My morning, I shall set the envy of  
My yet prevailing enemy. Had you  
My fellow soldiers not been three hours' march  
From aiding us, when the Castilian Army  
Made the assault: we had given their fate a check,  
And taught them how unsafe it is to Court  
Dangers abroad. I must entreat your courage  
To suffer for some moments, a short time  
Will bring us the queen's answer. If she yield  
(As reason may persuade her) we shall spare  
Much loss of blood, if not your valour will  
Have liberty to show itself. Yet still  
Remember that the Cities forced t' obey  
A stranger; in their votes they fight for us.  
Did no man see the Lord Ossuna since  
Our fight i'th' morning?   Capt. 

He appeared not since  
We left the City to the enemy.  
Which hath bred jealousy, my Lord, that he  
Changed with the present fortune.   Decast. 

Doubt him not.  
He hath a heart devoted to the greatness  
And safety of his Country. Well he may  
Be lost i'th' number of the slain. But fate  
Cannot enforce him stoop beneath the vow  
Of rescuing Arragon from foreign Arms. Enter two common Soldiers, haling Ossuna in as an Hermit.  
What insolence is this? Unhand the man,  
methinks his habit should beget respect.   Sould. 

My Lord we guess he is some spy, he came  
Skulking from th' enemy's camp. Pray guard  
Your person, mischief often lurks in shapes  
As holly.   Decast. 

I allow your care and thank it,  
Leave him to me; and for a while retire.   Exeunt. Ossuna. 
Your Lordship knows me not?  Decast. 

Ossuna, welcome!  
Blessed be thy better Angel who preserved thee!  
How happy to the fortune of this war  
Art thou restored? I should have fought unarmed,  
Had I not had the fare t' embrace thee thus.  
How was my friend preserved?   Ossuna. 

By virtue of  
This sacred habit. In the mist of war  
Disguised I thus escaped, though close pursued  
By some of the queen's faction. To this weed  
I owe my safety.   Decast. 

Quickly throw it off,  
And reinvest thy body in that steel,  
With which thou still hast triumphed. O my Lord!  
How oft have we all bathed in blood and sweat,  
Though clouds of dust found out the way to force  
Back victory to our side; when fortune seemed  
To dote onth' enemy. We two have grown  
Like cedars up together, and made all  
Seem shrubs to us, no man sleeping secure  
But in our shadows.   Ossuna. 
Yes; we have been happy.  Decast. 

Thou speak'st so hollow, as there were a doubt  
We might not be so still.   Ossuna. 

But there's is no faith  
In humane fate. An Emperor did serve  
As footstool to the Conqueror: and are we  
Better assured of destiny?   Decast. 

What strange  
Unworthy faintness weakens his great soul,  
Who heretofore, near understood the language  
Danger speaks in? Hath one defeat lost you  
That mighty courage, which hath fixed upon  
Your name a glorious memory? Reassume  
yourself my Lord: Let no degenerate fear  
Benight the luster of your former acts.   Ossuna. 

I call yourself and Arragon to witness,  
My life hath yet been such, ye reverend shades  
Of my great Ancestors, need not look pale  
Or blush, to know my story. To yourself,  
To whose brave youth I tied my youth a servant;  
I ever have performed all Offices  
Due to so brave a friendship.   Decast. 
'tis confessed.  Ossuna. 

And here I vow, setting aside those fears  
Distract me as a Christian; I could smile,  
Smile like some wanton Mistress, upon death  
whatever shape it wears.   Decast. 

My Lord this war.  
Is warranted by Casuists for lawful:  
But they (you'll say) flatter the present state,  
And make divinity serve humane ends.  
But in itself it's just. A war your judgement  
Gave approbation to; and urged me first  
To undertake. Therefore make good your own,  
And throw off this unuseful habit   Ossuna. 
Never.  Decastro. 
What said my friend?  Ossuna. 

By all things sacred, never.  
In this I will grow old, and with the weight  
Of years bend to the earth. In this I'll breathe  
A happier air, than you in all your soft  
And varied silks.   Decast. 

Some coward devil sure  
Possesseth him.   Ossuna. 

My Lord I am instructed  
T' a patience far above your injuries.  
Nor shall your scorn or anger triumph o'er  
My resolution. I'm fixed here, unmoved  
As is the centre.   Decast. 

I was much to blame.  
This may be a brave virtue. Pray my Lord  
Give me your reasons, why you tread this path  
So little beaten by the feet of Courtiers.  
I would not have the world mistake your aim,  
And construe it to fear or melancholy?   Ossuna. 

That cannot shake me. He who by the Card  
Oth' world's opinion steers his course, shall harbour  
In no safe port. But to your care my Lord  
I give this free account. Seven winters past  
When I set sail from Sicily, a storm  
o'er took the ship, so powerful that the Pilot  
Gave up the Stern to th' ordering of the waves,  
His Art and hand grown useless; Those kind stars  
The Sailors use t' invoke, were lost i'th' tempest  
And nothing but a night not to be seen  
Was seen by us. When every one began  
T' advance himself toward death as men condemned  
To th' Axe, when hope of pardon is shut out.  
I spite o'th' envious cloud looked up to heaven  
And darted my faith thither: vowing to  
Forsake the flattered pomp and business of  
The faithless world, if I with safety might  
Attain the Land.   Decast. 
Was not I there my Lord?  Ossuna. 
You were.  Decast. 
And made no I the self same vow?  Ossuna. 

Heaven hath recorded that we both did vow it.  
Oth' sudden night forsook us, and the loud  
Unruly winds fled to their unknown dwellings;  
When a soft breath 'gan whisper to our sails  
A calm was to ensue.   Decast. 

My memory  
Afflicts me much. But these are feeble vows  
Made only by our fears: We ought to have  
Our reason undismayed, when ere a promise  
Can force performance.   Ossuna. 

I dispute it not.  
Soon as I reached the shore I courted on  
Those vanities which had my youth enamoured,  
Yet still with some remorse. Honours betrayed me  
Into a glorious trouble, and I grew  
Proud of my burden. But if heaven had been  
Severe to my delays, in this diseased  
Surfeit of pomp, my soul might have been called  
T' her last account: And O my Lord where then  
Had breach of vow been safe.   Decast. 
These are sad thoughts.  Ossuna. 

But necessary. When the morning's loss  
Made me search out a shape for flight: this habit  
itself presented; and again redeemed me,  
And know I am resolved, ne'er to forsake it  
Till in the vault, my earth and it together  
Shall wear away to dust.   Decast. 

My Lord you have  
Good title to your virtue. Pray retire  
Into my tent. This sudden change, if known,  
May much amaze the Soldier, and endanger  
The glory of th' attempt. I shall entreat  
Your prayer, since you deny your arm.   Ossuna. 
My Lord may heaven direct you.  Exit. Ossuna. Decast. 

What have I obtained  
By all this sweat of business? Like the wind,  
Prosperous ambition only swelled my sail  
To give me courage to encounter with  
A tempest. Early cares and midnight frights,  
Faint hopes and causeless fears, successively  
Like billows have moved in me. What a fool  
Is humane wisdom; what a beggar wealth;  
How scorned 'a nothing that proud state we dote on?  
Time laughs us out of greatness, and shuts up  
Our wide designs in a dark narrow room:  
Whence when the valiant Monarch shall creep forth  
He will like some poor coward, hide his eyes  
And hope to skulk away. But these are thoughts,  
And now 'tis time for Action.   Enter Soldier to Decastro. Soul. 

If your Lordship  
Will please for some few moments to retire  
Into your tent, her Majesty in person  
Will give you parley here.   Decast. 

In person sir?  
The favour bears some omen! she who in  
The tempest of misfortune still did spread  
Her sail at large; why doth she strike them now,  
The wind so prosperous? This is a descent  
Beneath her greatness.   Soldier. 

I reach not, my Lord,  
The mysteries of Princes, but this message  
She charged me to return.   Decast. 

The Acts of Princes  
Are governed often by as frail a Passion,  
As those are of the vulgar, the same rage  
That stirs two footmen to a fray, creates  
War between Kingdoms; but the zealous subject  
Gazing afar, on th' actions of the proud,  
Finds towers and lions in an empty cloud;  
But I'll obey her leisure. Watch you here  
Till you discover her advanced this way.   Exit. Decast. Enter Ascanio, Florentio. Floren. 

Sir you created me; and raised me up  
Toth' state of Duke, when I was common dust.  
And had not fortune given me interest  
Ith' favour of the Queen, I had continued  
In the worst fate of man, ingratitude.  
Now I can boast I have restored you back  
A love rich as the bounty you showered on me.  
'Tis all the stock of my poor life.   Ascanio. 

Sad fate!  
That I must wound thee to the heart, to cure  
My Leprosy with thy blood. Florentio search  
Ith' stock of women there's some other beauty,   Floren. 
O no! no other.  Ascanio. 

I'll endow her with  
The wealth of all Castille.   Floren. 
Poor empty nothing!  Ascan. 

If Sovereignty be th' Idol of thy soul,  
I will divide my Kingdom: thou shalt reign  
As independent as myself.   Floren. 

Great sir,  
Continue but your favour, and my stars  
Cannot afford a greatness equals it.  
The treasures of th' ambitious, are the scorn  
Of those who seriously contemplate life:  
My fortunes high enough. And now my thoughts  
Grow temperate; not for th' Empire of the East,  
(Which yet retains the treasures, man enjoyed  
Ere he grew black with sin) would I have wanted  
This blessed occasion to express the zeal  
I owe my Prince. Here with as free a soul  
I give her to your Arms as ere you threw  
A smile upon my service.   Ascanio. 

Thanks dear friend!  
(That word must speak our loves) by this great gift  
Thou hast redeemed me from the torture, and  
Possessed me of the fairest.   Floren. 
O!  Ascanio. 
The fairest, Nature ere made for wonder.  Floren. 
She is fair.  Ascanio. 

Enjoying her thy King shall live, who else  
Were desperate beyond cure. He shall be envied.  
And every year as age threatens decay,  
He shall regain new life from her. Florentio  
believe't there's miracle in such a beauty.   Floren. 

Surely there is. Enter Queen Sanmar. Oniate, Cleantha, Floriana.  
And see sh' appears. How like some heavenly vision  
That kills with too much glory.   Ascanio. 
Stand still, and wonder with me.  Queen. 

Cleantha! O the prodigy! And how  
Wilt thou endure his serious face? Canst thou  
Whom nothing tempted but wit parcel guilt  
And the last fashion, suffer Oniate?   Clean. 

Madam! I undertake him for a penance:  
Perhaps he was enjoined me.   Queen. 

It was love  
You went to shrift with then. And yet how that  
Young wanton idleness, should counsel you  
To this conversion still is more my riddle.   Clean. 

The Court is full of wonders Madam: and  
'tis handsome to do things extravagant.   Queen. 

But how in th'heat of war, your thoughts should be  
So apt for love's impression.   Clean. 

Love will dance  
As nimbly to the Trumpet, Fife, or, Drum,  
As to those many Violins which play  
So loud at Court. Moreover it concerned  
My safety. I so straight was besieged  
And by so strong a Caesar.   Queen. 

O my Lord  
I am informed with how fierce a spirit  
You do assault our Ladies.   Sanmar. 

Pray your mercy,  
And if your Majesty will please to banish  
The Art of making love quite from the Court;  
I'll not be out of fashion.   Queen. 

For your sake  
I will contrive it so: And good my Lord  
Will you begin th' example; you will see  
How soon the fine young Lords will follow you.  
Your pardon sir, had I but seen your highness,  
I had not lost so much of language from  
A most expressive gratitude.   Ascanio. 

Madam you pay a trivial debt with too great interest  
For how contemned a slightness was my life  
Until employed to serve you?   Florentio. 

She glanced this way,  
And Loves Artillery played from her eye.  
Unhappy bankrupt what a Kingdom have  
I forfeited? So often in a calme  
Some vessel rich in fraught and proud in sail,  
Doth spring a sudden leak, and sinks for ever.   Ascanio. 

But Madam is there hope your heart can yield  
To an exchange in love? My title's good,  
Florentio having given up his claim.   Enter Decostro, etc. Queen. 

But sir th' estate is still my own nor have  
I need to sell it. But Decastro's here,  
And if your Majesty will deign your presence  
Unto the parley 'twill advance the honour  
And purpose of our meeting.   Ascanio. 
I'm your servant.  Queen. 

My Lord you see how near the safety of  
Our subjects toucheth us: We can stoop thus  
Beneath our Majesty, and enter parley  
Even with a Rebel.   Decast. 

Madam, 'tis in vain  
To hold dispute 'gainst what you will condemn.  
And it were insolence to boast my power,  
Or speak my right, now when the hearts of all men  
Confirm the justice of my taking Arms.  
Cast but your eye on this vast body, which  
The Kingdom doth unite in my defence,  
And see how ruinous is your error, that  
Must lean to foreign succours!   Queen. 

'tis a refuge  
Your practice forced me to.   Decast. 

But would your highness  
Had lent a gentler ear the safe counsel  
Of him who had no crime but too much love.   Ascanio. 

My Lord, that word fell rudely from your tongue,  
And I may say, unmannerly; 'tis duty  
You owe the Queen.   Decast. 

Right sir, an humble duty,  
Ambitious to expose my life to dangers,  
Greater than any other soul dares fancy.   Ascanio. 

Pray stay Florention: this is now my cause,  
And I (proud man) will tell you, your great heart  
Doth want expansion to receive a love  
Worthy her scorn.   Decast. 

And I will answer you  
(Proud Monarch of Castille) what mould  
Soever Nature casts me in, my mind  
Is vaster than your empire. And I can  
Love equally with him whose name did Conquer  
Kingdoms as large as yours.   Ascanio. 

Your Majesty  
Must licence here my rage, to teach his folly  
(Presumptuous folly) a submiss repentance.   Decast. 
Sir here I stand prepared.  A shout within. Queen. 
What noise is that.  Oniate. 

The Cities all in Mutiny: and vow  
To perish in the Lord Decastro's cause.  
theyare ready now to lay rude hands upon  
The Garrisons of Castille. Your Majesty  
Should hinder mischief; if you suddenly  
Return, and by your presence stop their fury.   Decast. 

Pray Oniate take this signet: tell  
The Magistrates, her Majesty and I  
Are now accorded, with a due regard  
To th' public safety. Take some of my army  
To give authority to what you say.  
Assure them all is well.   Exit. Oniate. Ascanio. 
What means this wonder?  Floren. 
This speaks him Noble, even to our envy.  Queen. 

My Lord in this you have obliged us: Pray  
Inform us of your thoughts, that we may study  
To make this parley happy.   Decast. 

Mighty Lady,  
I find my love hath not been dressed so smooth  
To tempt your liking; and I must confess  
My passion (like the spleen of witches) hath  
Begot whirlwinds and thunder. Would I might  
Have found a softer way t' have wrought my ends.  
For by your beauty (the most sacred oath  
A Lover can swear by) that was the mark  
The sole fair mark I aimed at. For if pride  
Had overswayed my love, I could have stood  
Oth' level with that Prince, so much your people  
Were vowed to my devotion.   Queen. 

On my Lord,  
You fairly speak your virtues.   Decast. 

And but view  
The vastness, and good order of my Camp;  
Your best towns sworn to run my fortune, and  
You'll say 'twas love did beg this interview.   Ascanio. 

My Lord your language cannot fright us from  
The queen's defence.   Decast. 

Great sir, she needs it not.  
Down on your knees my fellow Soldiers, and  
With me bow to your Sovereign: swear with me  
Never to lift your Arm 'gainst her command.  
Thus as your subject. As your Lover thus,  
Thus to the earth I fall, and with my lips  
Seal my obedience.   kisseth the ground. Queen. 

Pray rise up my Lord,  
Would I could merit thus much favour; but.   Decast. 

Pardon I interupt you. But you cannot  
Find love to answer mine; nor will I force it  
Be happy in your choice, and wheresoever  
You six, shine ever glorious. From this hour  
I'll never more disturb you.   Queen. 

Now beshrew me,  
methinks I feel compassion. Good my Lord  
Write in that blank all your demands, and by  
The honour of a Princess, I'll deny  
Nothing you shall insert.   He looks on it and returns it. Decast. 

There 'tis again:  
The paper innocent as when you gave it.   Queen. 
My Lord you have writ nothing.  Decast. 

And 'tis nothing  
Now I have missed yourself, I can demand,  
Fortune contract thy treasure from all Nations,  
And guild it o'er with honour and with beauty;  
Yet hast thou not the power to force one wish;  
Now I have lost this Lady.   Ascanio. 
A great spirit.  Decast. 

One humble prayer I have which must not be  
Denied. And 'tis your Majesty will give  
Me leave near more to see you.   Queen. 
O my Lord.  Decast. 

My vows irrevocable. I shall secure  
Your Kingdom best by absence, and my eye  
Will never brook so rich a treasure made  
The purchase of another. To a Cave  
Some undiscovered Cave, to which no path  
Doth lead the wandering Lover, I have vowed  
The remnant of my days.   Enter Ossuna. Floren. 

A strange conversion,  
And 'twill behoove my fate to follow him.   Decast. 

My Lord Ossuna here, and I have sworn  
Our lives to solitude, which we'll observe  
Religiously; And since I cannot prove  
Possessor I'll be Conqueror in Love.   Ascanio. 

Pray stay my Lord. Behold Florentio there  
He hath out done you. He for love of me,  
Hath done what you for love of heaven. All  
The interest he had in that bright Queen  
He hath resigned to me.   Decast. 

He hath paid you for  
Your favours.   Floren. 
'tis confessed; what's mine is yours.  Ascanio. 

Thanks my Florentio. For with her my youth  
May be still happy, and my age disdain  
To know a weakness. From her eyes I may  
Draw still new vital heat, and find what fools  
Have studied for, th' elixir. In her Arms  
I may be safe 'gainst all invasion from  
Abroad, or civil dangers nursed at home.   Quest. 

Your highness' pardon. I confess how high  
Your merits rise in my esteem, but must not  
To honour your deserts, myself become  
Unworthy after story, blemished with  
That scorn which still defames our Sex, registered  
A most Inconstant woman, or what's much  
More infamous; one who reserves her love  
To serve her profit, and exposeth it, to the Merchant that bids fairest.   Ascanio. 

Madam spare that breath to clear  
The air when poisoned by contagion.  
I know your settled thoughts, and that my power  
Or title weighs not in your love. Florentio  
I will no longer rack you, though the Queen  
Be th' only fire ere warmed this heart, and I  
Despair ever to love again; I will  
Disdain to be unjust. I will not be  
o'ercome in friendship; reassume thy right.   Floren. 

Sir you undo me; In your injury,  
I was less wretched, like a bankrupt, now  
Without all hope of payment I must owe.   Ascanio. 

Th' ambition of my service, and disguise  
Was to advance your fortune Madam: Nor  
Can I attempt you farther though the conquest  
Would wreathe my Temples with a prouder Laurel,  
Than the addition of the world unto  
My Sceptre. Be safe in your choice and happy.   Queen. 

This goodness grows even to a Miracle.  
In his behalf sir, I must vow myself  
A subject, and your servant.   Ascanio. 

O command  
For I have nothing Madam but obedience.  
My Kingdom shall be proud to share with yours  
In danger, and I'll glory to be styled  
Your Soldier.   Floren. 

I am lost in wonder. Sir  
I know not how to entertain this blessing  
I fear my Joys will be my ruin.   Decast. 

Be both happy.  
And may time never father that black moment  
Which shall appear to you less fortunate.   Ascanio. 

Join then your hands for ever. He doth live  
Mighty indeed, w'hath power, and will, to give.   Exeunt.   

The Song in the second Act.  

NOt the Phoenix in his death  
Nor those banks where violets grow,  
And Arabian winds still blow,  
Yield a perfume like her breath.  
But o! Marriage makes the spell:  
And 'tis poison if I smell.   

The twin beauties of the skies.  
(When the half sunk sailors haste,  
To rend sail and cut their mast)  
Shine not welcome as her eyes.  
But those beams, than storms more black,  
If they point at me I wrack.   

Then for fear of such a fire,  
Which kills worse than the long night  
Which benumbs the Muscovite:  
I must from my life retire.  
But o no! for if her eye  
Warm me not; I freeze, and die.    

The Song in the fourth Act.  

FIne young folly, though you were  
That fair beauty I did swear,  
Yet you ne'er could reach my heart.  
For we Courtiers learn at School,  
Only we are sects to fool,  
You're not worth the serious part.   

When I sigh and kiss your hand,  
Cross my Arms and wondering stand:  
Holding parley with your eye,  
Then delate on my desires,  
Swear the sun ne'er shot such fires,  
All is but a handsome lie.   

When I eye your curl or Lace,  
Gentle soul you think your face  
straight some murder doth commit,  
And your virtue doth begin  
To grow scrupulous of my sin,  
When I talk to show my wit.   

Therefore Madam wear no cloud  
Nor to check my love grow proud,  
For in sooth I much do doubt  
It is the powder in your hair,  
Not your breath perfumes the air,  
And your Clothes that sets you out.   

Yet though truth has this confessed,  
And I vow I love in jest  
When I next begin to Court  
And protest an amorous flame,  
You will swear I in earnest am:  
Bedlam this is pretty sport.    

The Epilogue at Court.  

WE have nothing left us but our blushes now  
For your much penance, and though we allow  
Our fears no Comfort, since you must appear  
judges Corrupt, if not to us severe:  
Yet in your Majesty we hope to find  
A mercy; and that our pardon find.  
And how can we despair you will forgive  
Them who would please, when oft offenders live;  
And if we have erred, may not the Courteous say;  
'twas not their trade, and but the author's Play.    

The Epilogue at the Friars.  

WHat shall the Author do? it madness were  
To entreat a mercy from you who are severe,  
Stern judges and a pardon never give,  
For only merit with you makes things live:  
He leaves you therefore to yourselves and may,  
You gently quit or else condemn the Play,  
As in an upright Conscience you will think fit,  
Your sentence is the life and death of wit.  
The Author yet hath one safe plea, that though  
A Middlesex jury on his play should go,  
They cannot find the murder wilful, since  
'twas Acted by Command, in his own defence.    
FINIS.