THE emperor OF THE EAST. A tragicomedy. The Scene Constantinople. As it hath been diverse times acted, at the Blackfriars, and Globe playhouses, by the king's Majesty's Servants.  
Written by PHILIP MASSINGER.  
LONDON, Printed by THOMAS HARPER, for john Waterson, ANNO 1632.   

The ACTORS names.  

THEDOSIUS the younger.  
Paulinus, a Kinsman to the Emperor.  
Philanax, Captain of the Guard.  
Timantus. Chrysapius. Gratianus. Eunuchs of the emperor's chamber.  
Cleon, a traveller, friend to Paulinus.  
Informer.  
projector:  
Master of the manners.  
minion of the suburbs.  
Countryman.  
Chirurgeon.  
Empiric.  
Pulcheria, the protectress.  
Athenais, a strange virgin, after the Empress.  
Arcadia. Flaccilla. the younger sisters of the Emper.  
servants.  
Mutes.    

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE, AND MY especial good Lord, JOHN Lord mohune, Baron of Okehampton, &c.  
My good Lord,  
LET my presumption in styling you so (having never deserved it in my service) from the clemency of your noble disposition find pardon. The reverence due to the Name of Mohune, long since honoured in three Earls of Somerset, and eight Barons of Munster, may challenge from all pens a deserved celebration. And the rather in respect those Titles were not purchased, but conferred, and continued in your Ancestors, for many virtuous, noble, and still living Actions; nor ever forfeited, or tainted, but when the iniquity of those times laboured the depression of approved goodness, and in wicked policy held it fit that Loyalty, and Faith, in taking part with the true Prince, should be degraded, and mulcted. But this admitting no farther dilation in this place, may your Lordship please, and with all possible brevity to understand, the reasons why I am in humble thankfulness ambitious to shelter this Poem under the wings of your Honourable protection. My worthy friend Mr Aston Cokaine your Nephew, to my extraordinary content, delivered to me, that your Lordship at your vacant hours sometimes vouchsafed to peruse such trifles of mine, as have passed the Press, & not alone warranted them in your gentle suffrage, but disdained not to bestow a remembrance of your love, and intended favour to me. I profess to the world, I was exalted with the bounty, and with good assurance, it being so rare in this age to meet with one Noble Name, that in fear to be censured of levity, and weakness, dares express itself, a friend, or Patron to contemned Poetry. Having therefore no means else left me to witness the obligation, in which I stand most willingly bound to your Lordship, I offer this tragicomedy to your gracious acceptance, no way despairing, but that with a clear aspect, you will deign to receive it (it being an induction to my future endeavours) and that in the list of those, that to your merit truly admire you, you may descend to number,  
Your Lordship's Faithful Honourer; PHILIP MASSINGER.   


To my worthy Friend, Mr. PHILIP MASSINGER, upon his tragicomedy, called The Emperor of the East.  
Suffer, my friend, these lines to have the grace,  
That they may be a mole on Venus' face.  
There is no fault about thy Book, but this,  
And it will show how fair thy Emperor is.  
Thou more than Poet, our Mercury (that art  
Apollo's Messenger, and dost impart  
His best expressions to our ears) live long  
To purify the slighted English tongue,  
That both the Nymphs of Tagus, and of Poe,  
May not henceforth despise our language so.  
Nor could they do it, if they ere had seen  
The matchless features of the faery Queen;  
Read johnson, Shakespeare, Beaumont, Fletcher, or  
Thy neat-limned pieces, skilful Massinger.  
Thou known, all the castilians must confess  
Vega de Carpio thy foil, and bless  
His language can translate thee, and the fine  
Italian wits, yield to this work of thine.  
Were old Pythagoras alive again,  
In thee he might find reason to maintain  
His Paradox; that souls by transmigration  
In diverse bodies make their habitation,  
And more; that all Poetic souls yet known  
Are met in thee, united, and made one.  
This is a truth, not an applause. I am  
One that at farthest distance view thy flame,  
Yet may pronounce, that were Apollo dead,  
In thee his Poesy might all be read.  
Forbear thy modesty. Thy emperor's vein  
Shall live admired, when Poets shall complain.  
It is a pattern of too high a reach  
And what great Phoebus might the Muses teach.  
Let it live therefore, and I dare be bold  
To say, it with the world shall not grow old.  Aston Cokaine.  

A friend to the Author, and wellwisher to the Reader.  
WHO with a liberal hand, freely bestows  
His bounty, on all comers, and yet knows  
No ebb, nor formal limits, but proceeds  
Continuing his hospitable deeds,  
With daily welcome, shall advance his name  
Beyond the art of flattery: with such, fame  
May yours (dear friend) compare. Your muse hath been  
Most bountiful, and I have often seen  
The willing seats receive such as have fed,  
And risen thankful; yet were some misled  
By Nicety, when this fair Banquet came  
(So I allude) their stomachs were to blame,  
Because that excellent sharp, and poignant sauce  
Was wanting, they arose without due grace,  
Lo thus a second time he doth invite you:  
be your own Carvers, and it may delight you.  john Clavell.  

To my true friend, and Kinsman: PHILIP MASSINGER.  
I Take not up on trust; nor am I lead  
By an implicit Faith: what I have read  
With an impartial censure I dare crown  
With a deserved applause, howe'er cried down  
By such whose malice will not let 'em be  
Equal to any piece limned forth by thee.  
Contemn their poor detraction, and still write  
Poems like this, that can endure the light,  
And search of abler judgements. This will raise  
Thy Name, the others Scandal is thy praise.  
This oft perused by grave wits, shall live long,  
Not die as soon, as passed the actor's tongue,  
(The fate of slighter toys) And I must say  
'tis not enough to make a passing play,  
In a true Poet. Works that should endure  
Must have a Genius in 'em strong, as pure.  
And such is thine friend; nor shall time devour  
The well formed features of thy Emperor.  William Singleton.   

Prologue at the Blackfriars.  

BUT that imperious custom warrants it,  
Our Author with much willingness would omit  
This Preface to his new work. He hath found  
(And suffered for't) many are apt to wound  
His credit in this kind: and whether he,  
Express himself fearful, or peremptory,  
He cannot scape their censures who delight  
To misapply whatever he shall write.  
'tis his hard fate. And though he will not sue,  
Or basely beg such suffrages, yet to you  
Free, and ingenious spirits, he doth now,  
In me present his service, with his vow  
He hath done his best, and though he cannot glory  
In his invention, (this work being a story,  
Of reverend Antiquity) he doth hope  
In the proportion of it, and the scope,  
You may observe some pieces drawn like one  
Of a steadfast hand, and with the whiter stone  
To be marked in your fair censures. More than this  
I am forbid to promise, and it is  
With the most till you confirm it: since we know  
whate'er the shaft be, Archer, or the bow,  
From which 'tis sent, it cannot hit the white  
Unless your approbation guide it right.    

Prologue at Court.  

AS ever (Sir) you lent a gracious ear  
To oppressed innocence, now vouchsafe to hear  
A short petition, At your feet in me  
The Poet kneels, and to your Majesty  
Appeals for justice. What we now present,  
When first conceived, in his vote and intent,  
Was sacred to your pleasure; in each part  
With his best of fancy, judgement, language, art,  
Fashioned, and formed so, as might well, and may  
Deserve a welcome, and no vulgar way.  
He durst not (Sir) at such a solemn feast  
Lard his grave matter with one scurrilous jest,  
But laboured that no passage might appear,  
But what the Queen without a blush might hear.  
And yet this poor work suffered by the rage,  
And envy of some Catos of the stage:  
Yet still he hopes, this Play which then was seen  
With sore eyes, and condemned out of their spleen,  
May be by you, The supreme judge, set free,  
And raised above the reach of calumny.    

The Emperor of the East. The Scene Constantinople.  

Act 1. Scene 1.  Paulinus. Cleon. Paul. 
IN your six years' travail, friend, no doubt you have met with  
Many, and rare adventures, and observed  
The wonders of each climate, varying in  
The manners, and the men, and so return,  
For the future service of your prince and country,  
In your understanding bettered.  Cleon. 
Sir, I have made oft  
The best use in my power, and hope my gleanings,  
After the full crop others reaped before me,  
Shall not when I am called on, altogether  
Appear unprofitable: yet I left  
The miracle of miracles in our age  
At home behind me; everywhere abroad  
Fame with a true, though prodigal voice, delivered  
Such wonders of Pulcheria the Princess,  
To the amazement, nay astonishment rather  
Of such as heard it, that I found not one  
In all the States and Kingdoms that I passed through,  
Worthy to be her second.  Paul. 
She indeed is  
A perfect Phoenix, and disdains a rival.  
Her infant years, as you know, promised much  
But grown to ripeness she transcends, and makes  
Credulity her debtor. I will tell you  
In my blunt way, to entertain the time,  
Until you have the happiness to see her,  
How in your absence she hath borne herself,  
And with all possible brevity, though the subject  
Is such a spacious field, as would require  
An abstract of the purest eloquence  
(Derived from the most famous Orators  
The nurse of learning, Athens, showed the world)  
In that man, that should undertake to be  
Her true Historian.  Cleon. 
In this you shall do me  
A special favour.  Paulinus. 
Since Arcadius death,  
Our late great Master, the protection of  
The Prince his Son, the second Theodosius,  
By a general vote and suffrage of the people;  
Was to her charge assigned, with the disposure  
Of his so many Kingdoms. For his person  
She hath so trained him up in all those arts  
That are both great and good, and to be wished  
In an Imperial Monarch, that the Mother  
Of the Gracchi, grave Cornelia (Rome still boasts of)  
The wise Pulcheria but named, must be  
No more remembered. She by her example  
Hath made the court a kind of Academy,  
In which true honour is both learned, and practised,  
Her private lodge's a chaste Nunnery,  
In which her sisters as probationers hear  
From her their sovereign Abbess, all the precepts  
Read in the school of virtue.  Cleon. 
You amaze me.  Paulinus. 
I shall ere I conclude. For here the wonder  
Begins, not ends Her soul is so immense,  
And her strong faculties so apprehensive,  
To search into the depth of deep designs,  
And of all natures, that the burden which  
To many men were insupportable,  
To her is but a gentle exercise,  
Made by the frequent use familiar to her.  Cleon. 
With your good favour let me interrupt you.  
Being as she is in every part so perfect,  
methinks that all kings of our Eastern world  
Should become rivals for her.  Paulinus. 
So they have,  
But to no purpose. She that knows her strength  
To rule, and govern Monarchs, scorns to wear  
On her free neck the servile yoke of marriage.  
And for one loose desire, envy itself  
Dares not presume to taint her. Venus' son  
Is blind indeed, when he but gazes on her.  
Her chastity being a rock of Diamonds,  
With which encountered his shafts fly in splinters,  
His flaming torches in the living spring  
Of her perfections, quenched: and to crown all;  
she's so impartial when she sits upon  
The high tribunal, neither swayed with piety,  
Nor awed by fear beyond her equal scale,  
That 'tis not superstition to believe  
Astrea once more lives upon the earth,  
Pulcheria's breast her temple.  Cleon. 
You have given her  
An admirable character.  Paulinus. 
She deserves it,  
And such is the commanding power of virtue,  
That from her vicious enemies it compels  
Paeans of praise as a due tribute to her. Solemn loud music:  Cleon. 
What means this solemn music?  Paulinus. 
It ushers  
The emperor's morning meditation,  
In which Pulcheria is more than assistant.  
'tis worth your observation, and you may  
Collect from her expense of time this day,  
How her hours for many years have been disposed of.  Cleon. 
I am all eyes and ears.  Enter after a strain of music, Philanax, Timantus, Patriarch, Theodosius, Pulcheria, Flaccilla, Arcadia, followed by Chrysapius and Gratianus, Informer, Servants, Officers. Pulcheria. 
Your patience Sir.  
Let those corrupted ministers of the court,  
Which you complain of, our devotions ended,  
Be cited to appear. For the Ambassadors  
Who are importunate to have audience,  
From me you may assure them, that tomorrow  
They shall in public kiss the emperor's robe,  
And we in private with our soonest leisure  
Will give 'em hearing. Have you especial care too  
That free access be granted unto all  
Petitioners. The morning wears, Pray you on Sir;  
Time lost is ne'er recovered.  Exeunt Theodosius, Pulcheria, and the train. Paulinus. 
Did you note  
The majesty she appears in?  Cleon. 
Yes my good Lord,  
I was ravished with it.  Paulinus. 
And then with what speed  
She orders his dispatches, not one daring  
To interpose; the Emperor himself  
Without reply putting in act whatever  
She pleased to impose upon him.  Cleon. 
Yet there were some  
That in their sullen looks rather confessed  
A forced constraint to serve her, than a will  
To be at her devotion, what are they?  Paulin. 
Eunuchs of the emperor's chamber, that repine,  
The globe and awful sceptre should give place  
Unto the distaff, for as such they whisper  
A woman's government, but dare not yet  
Express themselves.  Cleon. 
From whence are the Ambassadors  
To whom she promised audience?  Paulinus. 
They ate  
Employed by diverse Princes, who desire  
Alliance with our Emperor, whose years now  
As you see, write him man. One would advance  
A daughter to the honour of his bed,  
A second, his fair sister: to instruct you  
In the particulars would ask longer time  
Than my own designs give way to. I have letters  
From special friends of mine, that to my care  
Commend a stranger virgin, whom this morning  
I purpose to present before the Princess,  
If you please, you may accompany me.  Cleon. 
I'll wait on you, Exeunt.   

Act. 1. Scene 2.  Informer; Officers bringing in the projector, the Suburbs minion, the Master of the habit and manners. Informer. 
Why should you droop, or hang your working heads?  
No danger is meant to you, pray bear up,  
For aught I know you are cited to receive  
Preferment due to your merits.  Proiector. 
Very likely,  
In all the projects I have read and practised  
I never found one man compelled to come  
Before the seat of justice under guard  
To receive honour.  Informer. 
No; it may be you are  
The first example. Men of qualities,  
As I have delivered you to the protectress,  
Who knows how to advance them, cannot conceive  
A fitter place to have their virtues published,  
Then in open Court: could you hope that the Princess  
Knowing your precious merits, will reward 'em  
In a private corner? no, you know not yet  
How you may be exalted.  Suburbs Minion. 
To the gallows.  Informer. 
Fie,  
Nor yet depressed to the Galleys; in your names  
You carry no such crimes: your specious titles  
Cannot but take her: President of the Projectors!  
What a noise it makes? The master of the habit,  
How proud would some one country be that I know  
To be your first pupil? Minion of the suburbs,  
And now and then admitted to the Court,  
And honoured with the style of Squire of Dames,  
What hurt is in it? One thing I must tell you,  
As I am the State scout, you may think me an informer.  Master of the habit. 
They are Synonima.  Informer. 
Conceal nothing from her  
Of your good parts, 'twill be the better for you,  
Or if you should, it matters not, she can conjure,  
And I am her ubiquitary spirit,  
Bound to obey her, you have my instructions,  
Stand by, here's better company.  Enter Paulinus, Cleon, Athenians, with a Petition. Athenais. 
Can I hope. Sir,  
Oppressed innocence shall find protection,  
And justice among strangers, when my brothers,  
Brothers of one womb, by one Sire begotten,  
Trample on my afflictions?  Paulinus. 
Forget them,  
Remembering those may help you.  Athenais. 
They have robbed me  
Of all means to prefer my just complaint  
With any promising hope to gain a hearing,  
Much less redress: petitions not sweetened  
With gold, are but unsavoury, oft refused,  
Or if received, are pocketed, not read.  
A suitors swelling tears by the glowing beam  
Of Choleric authority are dried up,  
Before they fall, or if seen never pitied.  
What will become of a forsaken maid?  
My flattering hopes are too weak to encounter  
With my strong enemy, despair, and 'tis  
In vain to oppose her.  Cleon. 
Cheer her up, she faints, Sir.  Paulin. 
This argues weakness, though your brothers were  
Cruel beyond expression, and the judges  
That sentenced you, corrupt, you shall find here  
One of your own fain sex to do you right,  
Whose beams of justice like the Sun extend  
Their light, and heat to strangers, and are not  
Municipal, or confined.  Athenais. 
Pray you do not feed me  
With airy hopes, unless you can assure me  
The great Pulcheria will descend to hear  
My miserable story, it were better  
I died without her trouble.  Paulinus. 
she is bound to it  
By the surest chain, her natural inclination  
To help th' afflicted, nor shall long delays  
(More terrible to miserable suitors  
Then quick denials) grieve you; Dry your fair eyes,  
This room will instantly be sanctified  
With her blessed presence; to her ready hand  
Present your grievances, and rest assured  
You shall depart contented.  Athenais. 
You breathe in me  
A second life.  Informer. 
Will your Lordship please to hear  
Your servant a few words?  Paulinus. 
Away you rascal,  
Did I ever keep such servants?  Informer. 
If your honesty  
Would give you leave, it would be for your profit.  Paul. 
To make use of an Informer? tell me in what  
Can you advantage me?  Informer. 
In the first tender  
Of a fresh suit never begged yet,  Paulinus. 
What's your suit Sir?  Informer. 
'Tis feasible, here are three arrant knaves  
Discovered by my Art:  Paulinus. 
And thou the arch-knave,  
The great devour the less.  Informer. 
And with good reason,  
I must eat one a month, I cannot live else.  Paulinus. 
A notable cannibal? but should I hear thee,  
In what do your knaves concern me?  Informer. 
In the begging  
Of their estates.  Paulinus. 
Before they are condemned?  Inf. 
Yet or arraigned, your Lordship may speak too late else  
They are your own, and I will be content  
With the fifth part of a share.  Paulinus. 
Hence Rogue,  Informer. 
Such Rogues  
In this kind will be heard, and cherished too.  
Fool that I was to offer such a bargain,  
To a spiced conscience chapman, but I care not  
What he disdains to taste others will swallow. Loud Mus.  Enter Theodosius, Pulcheria, and the train. Cleon. 
They are returned from the Temple.  Paul. 
See, she appears,  
What think you now?  Athenais. 
A cunning Painter thus  
Her veil ta'en off and awful sword and balance  
Laid by would picture justice.  Pulcheria. 
When you please,  
You may intend those royal exercises  
Suiting your birth, and greatness: I will bear  
The burden of your cares, and having purged  
The body of your empire of ill humours,  
Upon my knees surrender it.  Chrysapius. 
Will you ever  
be awed thus like a Boy?  Gratianus. 
And kiss the rod  
Of a proud Mistress?  Timantus. 
be what you were borne Sir.  Philanax. 
Obedience and Majesty never lodged  
In the same Inn.  Theodosius. 
No more; he never learned  
The right way to command, that stopped his ears  
To wise directions.  Pulcheria. 
read over the Papers  
I left upon my cabinet, two hours hence  
I will examine you.  Flaccilla. 
we spend our time well.  
Nothing but praying, and poring on a book,  
It ill agrees with my constitution, sister.  Arcadia. 
Would I had been borne some masking lady's woman,  
Only to see strange sights, rather than live thus.  Flaccilla. 
We are gone forsooth, there is no remedy, sister:  Exeunt Arcadia and Flaccilla. Gratianus. 
What hath his eye found out?  Timantus. 
'Tis fixed upon  
That stranger Lady.  Chrysapius. 
I am glad yet, that  
He dares look on a Woman.  All this time the informer kneeling to Pulcheria, and delivering papers. Theodos. 
Philanax,  
What is that comely stranger?  Philanax. 
A Petitioner.  Chrys. 
Will you hear her case, and dispatch her in your Chamber?  
I'll undertake to bring her.  Theod. 
Bring me to  
Some place where I may look on her demeanour  
'Tis a lovely creature?  Exeunt Theodosius, patriarch and the train: Chrys. 
there's some hope in this yet.  Pulch. 
No you have done your parts:  Paul. 
Now opportunity courts you,  
Prefer your suit,  Athenais. 
As low as misery  
Can fall, for proof of my humility,  
A poor distressed Virgin bows her head,  
And lays hold on your goodness, the last altar  
Calamity can fly to for protection.  
Great minds erect their never falling trophies  
On the firm base of mercy; but to triumph  
Over a suppliant by proud fortune captived,  
Argues a Bastard conquest: 'tis to you  
I speak, to you the fair, and just Pulcheria,  
The wonder of the age, your sex's honour,  
And as such deign to hear me. As you have  
A soul moulded from heaven, and do desire  
To have it made a star there, make the means  
Of your ascent to that celestial height  
Virtue winged with brave action: they draw near  
The nature, and the essence of the Gods,  
Who imitate their goodness.  Fulcher. 
If you were  
A subject of the Empire, which your habit  
In every part denies.  Athenais. 
O fly not to  
Such an evasion; whate'er I am,  
Being a Woman, in humanity  
You are bound to right me, though the difference  
Of my religion may seem to exclude me  
From your defence (which you would have confined)  
The moral virtue, which is general,  
Must know no limits; by these blessed feet  
That pace the paths of equity, and tread boldly  
On the stiff neck of tyrannous oppression,  
By these tears by which I bathe 'em, I conjure you  
With pity to look on me.  Pulch. 
Pray you rise.  
And as you rise receive this comfort from me.  
Beauty set off with such sweet language never  
Can want an Advocate, and you must bring  
More than a guilty cause if you prevail not.  
Some business long since thought upon dispatched,  
You shall have hearing, and as far as justice  
Will warrant me, my best aids.  Athen. 
I do desire,  
No stronger guard, my equity needs no favour.  Pulch. 
Are these the men?  Proiector. 
we were, an't like your highness,  
The men, the men of eminence, and mark,  
And may continue so, if it please your grace.  Master 
This speech was well projected.  Pul. 
Does your conscience  
(I will begin with you) whisper unto you  
What here you stand accused of? are you named  
The President of Projectors?  Inform. 
justify it man.  
And tell her in what thou art useful.  Proiect. 
That is apparent,  
And if you please, ask some about the court,  
And they will tell you too my rare inventions,  
They owe their bravery, perhaps means to purchase,  
And cannot live without me. I alas  
Lend out my labouring brains to use, and sometimes  
For a drachma in the pound, the more the pity.  
I am all patience, and endure the curses  
Of many, for the profit of one patron.  Pulcher. 
I do conceive the rest. What is the second?  Informer. 
The minion of the suburbs.  Pulcheria. 
What hath he  
To do in Constantinople?  Mign. 
I steal in now and then,  
As I am thought useful, marry there I am called  
The Squire of Dames, or servant of the sex,  
And by the allowance of some sportful lady's  
Honoured with that title.  Pulch. 
Spare your Character,  
You are here deciphered; stand by with your compeer.  
What is the third? a creature I ne'er heard of;  
The master of the manners, and the habit,  
You have a double office.  Master. 
In my actions  
I make both good, for by my theorems  
Which your polite, and terser gallants practise,  
I rerefine the court, and civilize  
Their barbarous natures: I have in a table  
With curious punctuality set down  
To a hair's breadth, how low a new stamped courtier  
May veil to a country Gentleman, and by  
Gradation, to his merchant, mercer, draper,  
His linen man, and tailor.  Pulch. 
Pray you discover  
This hidden mystery.  Master. 
If the foresaid courtier  
(As it may chance sometimes) find not his name  
Writ in the Citizens books, with a State hum  
He may salute 'em after three days waiting:  
But if he owe them money, that he may  
Preserve his credit, let him, in policy, never  
Appoint a day of payment, so they may hope still:  
But if he be to take up more, his page  
May attend 'em at the gate, and usher 'em  
Into his Cellar, and when they are warmed with wine,  
Conduct 'em to his bedchamber, and though then  
He be under his barber's hands, as soon as seen,  
He must start up to embrace 'em, veil thus low,  
Nay though he call 'em cousins, 'tis the better,  
His Dignity no way wronged in't.  Paulinus. 
Here's a fine knave.  Pulch. 
Does this rule hold without exception sirrah a  
For Courtiers in general?  Mast. 
No, dear madam,  
For one of the last edition, and for him  
I have composed a Dictionary, in which  
He is instructed, how, when, and to whom  
To be proud or humble; at what times of the year  
He may do a good deed for itself, and that is  
Writ in Dominical letters, all days else  
Are his own, and of those days the several hours  
Marked out, and to what use.  Pulch. 
Show us your method,  
I am strangely taken with it.  Mast. 
'twill deserve  
A pension, I hope. First a strong cullis  
In his bed to heighten appetite: Shuttle-cock  
To keep him in breath when he rises; Tennis Courts  
Are chargeable, and the riding of great horses  
Too boisterous for my young Courtier, let the old ones  
I think not of, use it; next his meditation  
How to court his Mistress, and that he may seem witty,  
Let him be furnished with confederate jests  
Between him and his friend, that on occasion  
They may ventem mutually: what his pace, and garb  
Must be in the presence, than the length of his sword,  
The fashion of the hilt, what the blade is  
It matters not, 'twere barbarism to use it,  
Unless to show his strength upon an and iron,  
So the sooner broke, the better.  Pulch. 
How I abuse  
This precious time! projector, I treat first  
Of you and your disciples; you roar out,  
All is the Kings, his will above his laws:  
And that fit tributes are too gentle yokes  
For his poor subjects; whispering in his ear,  
If he would have them fear, no man should dare  
To bring a salad from his country garden,  
Without the paying gubell; kill a hen,  
Without excise: and that if he desire  
To have his children, or his servants wear  
Their heads upon their shoulders, you affirm,  
In policy, 'tis fit the owner should  
Pay for 'em by the pole; or if the Prince want  
A present sum, he may command a city  
Impossibilities, and for non-performance  
Compel it to submit to any fine  
His Officers shall impose: is this the way  
To make our Emperor happy? can the groans  
Of his subjects yield him music? must his thresholds  
Be washed with widows and wronged orphans tears,  
Or his power grow contemptible?  Proiect. 
I begin  
To feel myself a rogue again.  Pulch. 
But you are  
The Squire of Dames, devoted to the service  
Of gamesome Ladies, the hidden mystery  
Discovered, their close bawd; thy slavish breath  
Fanning the fires of lust, the go-between  
This female, and that wanton Sir, your art  
Can blind a jealous husband, and disguised  
Like a Milliner or Shoemaker, convey  
A letter in a pantofle or glove  
Without suspicion, nay at his table  
In a case of picktooths; you instruct'em how  
To parley with their eyes, and make the temple  
A mart of looseness: to discover all  
The subtle brokages, were to teach in public,  
Those private practises which are, in justice,  
Severely to be punished.  Mignion. 
I am cast,  
A jury of my patronesses cannot quit me.  Pulcheria. 
You are master of the manners, and the habit,  
Rather the scorn of such as would live men,  
And not like Apes with servile imitation,  
Study prodigious fashions. You keep  
Intelligence abroad that may instruct,  
Our giddy youth at home what new found fashion  
Is now in use, swearing he's most complete  
That first turns monster. Know villains, I can thrust  
This arm into your hearts, strip off the flesh  
That covers your deformities, and show you  
In your own nakedness. Now though the law  
Call not your folly's death, you are for ever  
Banished my brother's court. Away with 'em.  
I will hear no reply.  Exeunt Informer, Officers, Prisoners, the curtains drawn above, Theodosius, and his Eunuchs discovered. Paulinus. 
What think you now?  Cleon. 
That I am in a dream, or that I see  
A second Pallas.  Pulch. 
These removed, to you  
I clear my brow, speak without care sweet maid,  
Since with a mild aspect and ready ear,  
I sit prepared to hear you.  Athen. 
Know great Princess,  
My father, though a Pagan, was admired  
For his deep search into those hidden studies,  
Whose knowledge is denied to common men:  
The motion, with the diverse operations  
Of the superior bodies, by his long  
And careful observation were made  
Familiar to him, all the secret virtues  
Of plants, and simples, and in what degree  
They were useful to mankind, he could discourse of.  
In a word conceive him as a Prophet honoured  
In his own country. But being borne a man,  
It lay not in him to defer the hour  
Of his approaching death, though long foretold:  
In this so fatal hour he called before him  
His two sons, and myself, the dearest pledges  
Lent him by nature, and with his right hand  
Blessing our several heads, he thus began;  Chrys. 
Mark his attention.  Phyl. 
Give me leave to mark too.  Athen. 
If I could leave my understanding to you,  
It were superfluous to make division  
Of whatsoever else I can bequeath you,  
But to avoid contention, I allot  
An equal portion of my possessions  
To you my sons: but unto thee my daughter,  
My joy, my darling (pardon me though I  
Repeat his words) if my prophetic soul  
Ready to take her flight, can truly guess at  
Thy future fate, I leave the strange assurance  
Of the greatness thou art borne to, unto which  
Thy brothers shall be proud to pay their service,  Paulinus. 
And all men else that honour beauty  Theod. 
Nymph.  Ath. 
Yet to prepare thee for that certain fortune,  
And that I may from present wants defend thee,  
I leave ten thousand crowns, which said, being called  
To the fellowship of our Deities, he expired,  
And with him all remembrance of the charge  
Concerning me, left by him to my brothers.  Pulch. 
Did they detain your legacy?  Athenais. 
And still do.  
His ashes were scarce quiet in his urn,  
When in derision of my future greatness,  
They thrust me out of doors, denying me  
One short nights harbour.  Pulch. 
Weep not.  Ath. 
I desire  
By your persuasion, or commanding power,  
The restitution of mine own, or that  
To keep my frailty from temptation,  
In your compassion of me, you would please  
I as a handmaid may be entertained  
To do the meanest offices to all such  
As are honoured in your service.  Pulch. 
Thou art welcome. What is thy name?  Ath. 
The forlorn Athenais.  Takes her up and kisses her. Pulch. 
The sweetness of thy innocence strangely takes me;  
Forget thy brother's wrongs, for I will be  
In my care a mother, in my love a sister to thee;  
And were it possible thou couldst be wooned  
To be of our belief.  Paulinus. 
May it please your excellence,  
That is an easy task, I; though no scholar,  
Dare undertake it; clear truth cannot want  
Rhetorical persuasions.  Pulch. 
'tis a work,  
My Lord, will well become you; break up the Court,  
May your endeavours prosper.  Paulinus. 
Come my fair one,  
I hope my convert.  Ath. 
Never, I will die  
As I was borne.  Paulinus. 
Better you ne'er had been.  Philanax. 
What does your majesty think of? the maid's gone.  Theod. 
She's wondrous fair, and in her speech appeared  
Pieces of scholarship.  Chrysap. 
Make use of her learning  
And beauty together, on my life she will be proud  
To be so converted.  Theod: 
From foul lust heaven guard me. Exeunt.    


Act. 2. Scene 1.  Philanax, Timantus, Chrysapius, Gratianus. Philanax. 
We only talk when we should do.  Timantus: 
I'll second you,  
Begin, and when you please.  Gratianus. 
Be constant in it.  Chry. 
That resolution which grows cold today,  
Will freeze tomorrow.  Gratianus. 
'Slight, I think she'll keep him  
Her ward for ever, to herself engrossing  
The disposition of all the favours  
And bounties of the Empire.  Chrys. 
we that by  
The nearness of our service to his person,  
Should raise this man, or pull down that, without  
Her licence hardly dare prefer a suit,  
Or if we do, 'tis crossed.  Philanax. 
You are troubled for  
Your proper ends, my aims are high and honest  
The wrong that's done to Maiesty I repine at:  
I love the Emperor, and 'tis my ambition  
To have him know himself, and to that purpose  
I'll run the hazard of a check.  Gratianus: 
And I  
The loss of my place.  Timan. 
I will not come behind,  
Fall what can fall.  Chry. 
Let us put on sad aspects  
To draw him on; charge home, we'll fetch you off,  
Or lie dead by you.  Enter Theodosius. Theod. 
How's this? clouds in the chamber,  
And the air clear abroad.  Phil. 
When you our Sun  
Obscure your glorious beams, poor we that borrow  
Our little light from you, cannot but suffer  
A general Eclipse.  Timantus. 
Great Sir, 'tis true,  
For till you please to know, and be yourself,  
And freely dare dispose of what's your own  
Without a warrant; we are falling meteors;  
And not fixed stars.  Chrys. 
The pale faced Moon that should  
Govern the night, usurp the rule of day,  
And still is at the full in spite of nature,  
And will not know a change.  Theod. 
Speak you in riddles?  
I am no Oedipus, but your Emperor,  
And as such would be instructed.  Philanax. 
Your command  
Shall be obeyed, till now I never heard you  
Speak like yourself; and may that power by which  
You are so, strike me dead, if what I shall  
Deliver, as a faithful subject to you,  
Hath root, or growth from malice, or base envy  
Of your sister's greatness; I could honour in her  
A power subordinate to yours, but not  
As 'tis predominant.  Timan. 
It it fit that she,  
In her birth your vassal, should command the knees  
Of such as should not bow but to yourself?  Grat. 
she with security walks upon the heads  
Of the nobility, the multitude  
As to a Deity offering sacrifice,  
For her grace, and favour.  Chrys. 
Her proud feet even wearied  
With the kisses of petitioners.  Gratian, 
While you,  
To whom alone such reverence is proper,  
Pass unregarded by her,  Timant. 
You have not yet  
been Master of one hour of your whole life,  Chrys. 
Your will and faculties kept in more awe,  
Than she can do her own  Philanax. 
And as a bondman,  
O let my zeal find grace, and pardon from you,  
That I descend so low, you are designed  
To this or that employment, suiting well  
A private man I grant, but not a Prince,  
To be a perfect horseman, or to know  
The words of the chase, or a fair man of arms,  
Or to be able to pierce to the depth,  
Or write a comment on th' obscurest Poets,  
I grant are ornaments, but your main scope  
Should be to govern men to guard your own,  
If not enlarge your empire.  Chrys. 
You are built up  
By the curious hand of nature to revive  
The memory of Alexander, or by  
A prosperous success in your brave actions  
To rival Caesar.  Timant. 
Rouse yourself, and let not  
Your pleasure be a copy of her will  Philan. 
Your pupil age is passed, and manly actions  
Are now expected from you.  Grat. 
Do not lose  
Your subjects' hearts,  Timant. 
What is't to have the means  
To be magnificent, and not exercise  
The boundless virtue?  Grat. 
You confine yourself  
To that which strict Philosophy allows of,  
As if you were a private man.  Tim. 
No pomp,  
Or glorious shows of royalty, rendering it  
Both loved, and terrible.  Grat. 
'Slight you live, as it  
Begets some doubt, whether you have or not  
Th'abilities of a man.  Chrys. 
The Firmament  
Hath not more stars than there are several beauties  
Ambitious at the height to impart their dear,  
And sweetest favours to you.  Grat. 
Yet you have not  
Made choice of one, of all the sex, to serve you,  
In a Physical way of courtship.  Theod. 
But that I would not  
Begin the expression of my being a man,  
In blood, or stain the first white robe I wear  
Of absolute power, with a servile imitation  
Of any tyrannous habit, my just anger  
Prompts me to make you in your sufferings feel,  
And not in words to instruct you, that the licence  
Of the loose, and saucy language you now practised,  
Hath forfeited your heads.  Grat 
How's this?  Phil. 
I know not  
What the play may prove, but I assure you that  
I do not like the prologue.  Theod. 
O the miserable  
Condition of a Prince! who though he vary  
More shapes than Proteus in his mind, and manners,  
He cannot win an universal suffrage,  
From the many-headed monster, Multitude.  
Like Aesop's foolish Frogs they trample on him,  
As a senseless block, if his government be easy.  
And if he prove a Stork, they croak, and rail  
Against him as a tyrant. I'll put off  
That majesty, of which you think I have  
Nor use, nor feeling, and in arguing with you,  
Convince you with strong proofs of common reason,  
And not with absolute power, against which, wretches,  
You are not to dispute. Dare you that are  
My creatures, by my prodigal favours fashioned,  
Presuming on the nearness of your service,  
Set off with my familiar acceptance,  
Condemn my obsequiousness to the wise directions  
Of an incomparable Sister, whom all parts  
Of our world, that are made happy in knowledge  
Of her perfections, with wonder gaze on?  
And yet you that were only borne to eat  
The blessings of our mother earth, that are  
Distant but one degree from beasts (since slaves  
Can claim no larger privilege) that know  
No farther than your sensual appetites,  
Or wanton lust have taught you, undertake  
To give your sovereign laws to follow that  
Your ignorance marks out to him? Walks by.  Gratian. 
How were we  
Abused in our opinion of his temper?  Phil. 
we had forgot 'tis found in holy writ,  
That Kings hearts are inscrutable.  Timantus. 
I ne'er read it,  
My study lies not that way.  Philan. 
By his looks  
The tempest still increases.  Theod. 
Am I grown  
So stupid in your judgements, that you dare  
With such security offer violence  
To sacred majesty? will you not know  
The Lion is a Lion, though he show not  
His rending paws? or fill th'affrighted air  
With the thunder of his roarings? you blessed Saints,  
How am I trenched on? is that temperance  
So famous in your cited Alexander,  
Or Roman Scipio a crime in me?  
Cannot I be an Emperor, unless  
Your wives, and daughters bow to my proud lusts?  
And cause I ravish not their fairest buildings  
And fruitful vineyards, or what is dearest,  
From such as are my vassals, must you conclude  
I do not know the awful power, and strength  
Of my prerogative? am I close handed  
Because I scatter not among you that  
I must not call mine own. Know you court leeches,  
A Prince is never so magnificent,  
As when he's sparing to enrich a few  
With th'injuries of many; could your hopes  
So grossly flatter you, as to believe  
I was born and trained up as an Emperor, only  
In my indulgence to give sanctuary,  
In their unjust proceedings, to the rapine  
And avarice of my grooms?  Philar. 
In the true mirror  
Of your perfections, at length we see  
Our own deformities.  Timant. 
And not once dating  
To look upon that majesty we now slighted,  Chrys. 
With our faces thus glued to the earth, we beg  
Your gracious pardon.  Grat. 
Offering our necks  
To be trod on, as a punishment for our late  
Presumption, and a willing testimony  
Of our subjection.  Theod 
Deserve our mercy  
In your better life hereafter, you shall find,  
Though in my Father's life I held it madness,  
To usurp his power, and in my youth disdained not  
To learn from the instructions of my sister,  
I'll make it good to all the world, I am  
An Emperor; and even this instant grasp  
The Sceptre, my rich stock of majesty  
Entire, no scruple wasted.  Phila. 
If these tears  
I drop, proceed not from my joy to hear this.  
May my eyeballs follow 'em.  Tim. 
I will show myself  
By your sudden metamorphosis transformed  
From what I was.  Grat. 
And ne'er presume to ask  
What fits not you to give.  Theod. 
Move in that sphere,  
And my light with full beams shall shine upon you.  
Forbear this slavish courtship, 'tis to me  
In a kind idolatrous.  Phil. 
Your gracious sister.  Enter pulcheria's Servant. Pul. 
Has he converted her?  Ser. 
And, as such, will  
Present her when you please.  Pul. 
I am glad of it.  
Command my Dresser to adorn her with  
The robes that I gave order for.  Mar. 
I shall.  Pul. 
And let those precious jewels I took last  
Out of my Cabinet, if't be possible,  
Give lustre to her beauties, and that done,  
Command her to be near us.  Mar. 
'tis a province  
I willingly embrace, Exit Mart.  Pul. 
O my dear Sir,  
You have forgot your morning task, and therefore  
With a mother's love I come to reprehend you,  
But it shall be gently.  Theodos. 
'T will become you, though,  
You said with reverend duty. Know hereafter,  
If my mother lived in you, howe'er her son,  
Like you she were my subject.  Pulch. 
How?  Theod. 
Put off  
Amazement, you will find it. Yet I'll hear you  
At distance, as a sister, but no longer  
As a governess, I assure you.  Grat. 
This is put home,  Timant. 
Beyond our hopes  Philam. 
she stands as if his words  
Had powerful magic in 'em.  Theod. 
Will you have me  
Your pupil ever? the down on my chin  
Confirms I am a man, a man of men,  
The Emperor, that knows his strength.  Pulcheria, 
Heaven grant  
You know it not too soon.  Theod. 
Let it suffice  
My wardships out. If your design concerns us  
As a man, and not a boy, with our allowance  
You may deliver it.  Pulch. 
A strange alteration!  
But I will not contend. Be, as you wish, Sir,  
Your own disposer, uncompelled I cancel  
All bonds of my authority. Kneels.  Theod. 
You in this  
Pay your due homage, which performed, I thus  
Embrace you as a Sister. No way doubting  
Your vigilance for my safety as my honour,  
And what you now come to impart, I rest  
Most confident, points at one of them!  Pulch. 
At both,  
And not alone the present, but the future  
Tranquillity of your mind: since in the choice  
Of her, you are to heat with holy fires,  
And make the consort of your royal bed,  
The certain means of glorious succession,  
With the true happiness of our humane being,  
Are wholly comprehended.  Theodosius. 
How? a wife?  
Shall I become a votary to Hymen,  
Before my youth hath sacrificed to Venus?  
'Tis something with the soonest, yet to show  
In things in different, I am not averse  
To your wise counsels, let me first survey  
Those beauties, that in being a Prince I know  
Are rivals for me. You will not confine me  
To your election, I must see dear sister  
With mine own eyes.  Pulcheria. 
'Tis fit Sir, yet in this  
You may please to consider, absolute Princes  
Have, or should have, in Policy, less free, will  
Then such as are their vassals. For, you must,  
As you are an Emperor, in this high business  
Weigh with due providence, with whom alliance  
May be most useful for the preservation  
Or your increase of Empire.  Theod. 
I approve not  
Such compositions for our moral ends,  
In what is in itself divine, nay more  
Decreed in heaven. Yet if our neighbour Princes,  
Ambitious of such nearness, shall present  
Their dearest pledges to me (ever reserving  
The caution of mine own content) I'll not  
Contemn their courteous offers.  Pulch. 
Bring in the pictures: 2. Pictures brought in.  Theod. 
Must I then judge the substances by the shadows?  
The Painters are most envious, if they want  
Good colours for preferment: virtuous ladies'  
Love this way to be flattered, and accuse  
The workman of detraction, if he add not  
Some grace they cannot truly call their own.  
Is't not so Gratianus? you may challenge  
Some interest in the science.  Grat. 
A pretender  
To the art I truly honour, and subscribe  
To your majesty's opinion.  Theod. 
Let me see,  
Cleanthe, daughter to the King of Epirus,  
AEtatis sua, the fourteenth: ripe enough,  
And forward too, I assure you. Let me examine  
The Symmetries. If Statuaries could  
By the foot of Hercules set down punctually  
His whole dimensions, and the countenance be  
The index of the mind, this may instruct me,  
With the aids of that I have read touching this subject,  
What she is inward: the colour of her hair,  
If it be, as this does promise, pale, and faint,  
And not a glistering white; Her brow, so so;  
The circles of her sight, too much contracted;  
Juno's fair cow eyes by old Homer are  
Commended to their merit, here's a sharp frost,  
In the tip of her nose, which by the length assures me  
Of storms at midnight, if I fail to pay her  
The tribute she expects. I like her not:  
What is the other.  Chrysapius. 
How hath he commenced  
Doctor in this so sweet and secret art,  
Without our knowledge?  Timantus. 
Some of his forward pages  
Have robbed us of the honour.  Philanax. 
No such matter,  
He has the theory only, not the practic.  Theod. 
Amasia, Sister to the Duke of Athens,  
Her age eighteen, descended lineally  
From Theseus, as by her pedigree  
Will be made apparent: Of his lusty kindred?  
And lose so much time! 'tis strange! as I live, she hath  
A Philosophical aspect, there is  
More wit than beauty in her face, and when  
I court her, it must be in tropes, and figures,  
Or she will cry absurd. She will have her elencha  
To cut off any fallacy I can hope  
To put upon her, and expect I should  
Ever conclude in Syllogisms, and those true ones  
In part & toto, or she'll tire me with  
Her tedious Elocutions in the praise  
Of the increase of generation, for which  
Alone the sport in her morality  
Is good and lawful, and to be often practised  
For fear of missing. Fie on't, let the race  
Of Theseus be matched with Aristotle's,  
I'll none of her.  Pulcher. 
You are curious in your choice, Sir,  
And hard to please, yet if that your consent  
May give authority to it, I'll present you  
With one, that if her birth, and fortunes answer  
The rarities of her body, and her mind',  
Detraction durst not tax her.  Theod. 
Let me see her,  
Though wanting those additions, which we can  
Supply from our own store: it is in us  
To make men rich, and noble, but to give  
Legitimate shapes and virtues, does belong  
To the great creator of'em, to whose bounties  
Alone 'tis proper, and in this disdains  
An Emperor for his rival.  Pulch. 
I applaud  
This fit acknowledgement, since Princes then  
Grow less than common men, when they contend  
With him, by whom they are so.  Enter Paulinus, Cleon, Athenais newly habited. Theod. 
I confess it.  Pulcheria. 
Not to hold you in suspense, Behold the virgin  
Rich in her natural beauties, no way borrowing  
Th'adulterate aids of art. Peruse her better,  
She is worth your serious view.  Phyl. 
I am amazed too.  
I never saw her equal.  Gratian. 
How his eye  
Is fixed upon her!  Timantus. 
And as she were a fort,  
He would suddenly surprise, He measures her  
From the bases to the battlements.  Chrys, 
Ha! now I view her better,  
I know her; 'tis the maid that not long since  
Was a petitioner; her bravery  
So altars her, I had forgot her face.  Phil. 
So has the Emperor.  Paulinus. 
she holds out yet,  
And yields not to th'assault.  Cleon. 
she is strongly guarded  
In her virgin blushes.  Paulin. 
When you know, fair creature,  
It is the Emperor that honours you  
With such a strict survey of your sweet parts,  
In thankfulness you cannot but return  
Due reverence for the favour.  Athenais. 
I was lost  
In my astonishment at the glorious object,  
And yet rest doubtful whether he expects  
Being more than man, my adoration,  
(Since sure there is divinity about him,)  
Or will rest satisfied if my humble knees  
In duty thus bow to him.  Theod. 
Ha! it speaks.  Pulch. 
she is no statue Sir.  Theod. 
Suppose her one,  
And that she had nor organs, voice, nor heat,  
Most willingly I would resign my Empire  
So it might be to after-times recorded  
That I was her Pygmalion, though, like him,  
I doted on my workmanship, without hope too  
Of having Cytherea so propitious  
To my vows, or sacrifice, in her compassion  
To give it life or motion.  Pulch. 
Pray you be not raped so,  
Nor borrow from imaginary fiction  
Impossible aids; she's flesh and blood, I assure you,  
And if you please to honor her in the trial,  
And be your own security, as you'll find  
I fable not, she comes in a noble way  
To be at your devotion.  Chry. 
'Tis the maid  
I offered to your highness, her changed shape  
Concealed her from you:  Theod. 
At the first I knew her,  
And a second firebrand Cupid brings to kindle  
My flames almost put out: I am too cold,  
And play with opportunity.  
May I taste then  
The nectar of her lip? I do not give it  
The praise it merits: antiquity is too poor  
To help me with a simile to express her.  
Let me drink often from this living spring,  
To nourish new invention.  Pulcheria. 
Do not surfeit  
In overgreedily devouring that  
Which may without satiety feast you often.  
From the moderation in receiving them,  
The choicest viands do continue pleasing  
To the most curious palate; if you think her  
Worth your embraces, and the sovereign title  
Of the Grecian Empress,  Theod. 
If? how much you sin,  
Only to doubt it; the possession of her  
Makes all that was before most precious to me,  
Common, and cheap: in this you have shown yourself  
A provident Protectress. I already  
Grow weary of the absolute command  
Of my so numerous subjects, and desire  
No sovereignty but here, and write down gladly,  
A period to my wishes.  Pulcher. 
Yet before  
It be too late, consider her condition,  
Her father was a Pagan, she herself  
A new converted Christian.  Theod. 
Let me know  
The man to whose religious means I owe  
So great a debt.  Paulinus. 
You are advanced too high Sir,  
To acknowledge a beholdings, 'tis discharged,  
And I, beyond my hopes, rewarded, if  
My service please your Majesty.  Theod. 
Take this pledge  
Of our assured love. Are there none here  
Have suits to prefer? on such a day as this  
My bounty's without limit. O my dearest,  
I will not hear thee speak; whatever in  
Thy thoughts is apprehended, I grant freely:  
Thou wouldst plead thy unworthiness, by thyself  
The magazine of felicity, in thy lowness  
Our Eastern Queens at their full height bow to thee,  
And are in their best trim thy foils and shadows.  
Excuse the violence of my love, which cannot  
Admit the least delay. Command the Patriarch  
With speed to do his holy office for us,  
That when we are made one.  Pulch. 
You must forbear Sir,  
She is not yet baptised.  Theod. 
In the same hour  
In which she is confirmed in our faith,  
We mutually will give away each other,  
And both be gainers; we'll hear no reply  
That may divert us on.  Pulch. 
You may hereafter  
Please to remember to whose furtherance  
You owe this height of happiness.  Ath. 
As I was  
Your creature when I first petitioned you,  
I will continue so, and you shall find me,  
Though an Empress, still your servant.  All go off but Philanax, Gratianus, and Timantus! Gratianus. 
Here's a marriage  
Made up on the sudden!  Philanax. 
I repine not at  
The fair Maid's fortune, though I fear the Princess  
Had some peculiar end in't.  Timantus. 
Who's so simple  
Only to doubt it?  Gratianus. 
It is too apparent,  
She hath preferred a creature of her own,  
By whose means she may still keep to herself  
The government of the Empire.  Tim. 
Where as if  
The Emperor had espoused some neighbour Queen,  
Pulcheria with all her wisdom could not  
Keep her pre-eminence.  Philanax. 
Be it as it will,  
'Tis not now to be altered, heaven I say  
Turn all to the best.  Gratianus. 
Are we come to praying again?  Phil. 
Leave thy profaneness  Gratian. 
Would it would leave me.  
I am sure I thrive not by it.  Timant. 
Come to the Temple.  Grat. 
e'en where you will, I know not what to think on't,  
The end of the second Act.    


Act. 3. Scaena 1.  Paulinus. Philanax. Paulinus. 
Nor this, nor the age before us ever looked on  
The like solemnity.  Philan. 
A sudden fever  
Keeped me at home. Pray you my Lord acquaint me  
With the particulars.  Paul. 
You may presume  
No pomp, nor ceremony could be wanting,  
Where there was Privilege to command, and means  
To cherish rare inventions.  Phil. 
I believe it;  
But the sum of all in brief.  Paulinus. 
Pray you so take it;  
Fair Athenais not long since a Suitor,  
And almost in her hopes forsaken, first  
Was Christened, and the emperor's mother's name  
Eudoxia, as he willed, imposed upon her:  
Pulcheria the ever matchless Princess,  
Assisted by her reverend Aunt Maria,  
Her Godmothers.  Phil. 
And who the masculine witness?  Paul. 
At the new empress suit I had the honour.  
For which I must ever serve her.  Phil. 
'twas a grace,  
With justice you may boast of.  Paul. 
The marriage followed,  
And as 'tis said, the Emperor made bold  
To turn the day tonight, for, to bed they went  
as soon as they had dined, and there are wagers  
Laid by some merry lords, he hath already  
Begot a boy upon her.  Phil. 
That is yet  
To be determined of; but I am certain,  
A Prince so soon in his disposition altered,  
Was never heard nor read of.  Paul. 
But of late,  
Frugal and sparing, now nor bounds, nor limits  
To his magnificent bounties. He affirmed,  
Having received more blessings by his empress  
Then he could hope, in thankfulness to heaven  
He cannot be too prodigal to others.  
whatever sh' offered to his royal hand  
He signs without perusing it.  Phil. 
I am here  
Enjoined to free all such as lie for debt,  
The creditors to be paid out of his coffers.  Paul. 
And I all malefactors that are not  
Convicted, or for treason or foul murder,  
Such only are excepted;  Phil. 
'Tis a rare clemency!  Paul. 
Which we must not dispute, but put in practice.  Exeunt.  

Actus 3. Scaen. 2.  Loud Music. Showtes within: Heaven preserve the Emperor, Heaven bless the Empress: Then in State, Chrysapius, Patriarch. Paulinus. Theodosius. Athenais. Pulcheria. Her two young Sisters bearing up Athenais train. Followed, by Philanax. Gratianus. Timantus. Suitors, presenting petitions. The Emperor sealing them. Pulcheria appears troubled. Iul. 
SIR by your own rules of Philosophy  
You know things violent last not, royal bounties  
Are great, and gracious while they are dispensed  
With moderation, but when their excess  
In giving giant-bulks to others, take from  
The PRINCE's just proportion, they lose  
The names of virtues, and, their natures changed,  
Grow the most dangerous vices  Theod. 
In this, sister,  
Your wisdom is not circular; they that sow  
In narrow bounds, cannot expect in reason  
A crop beyond their ventures, what I do  
Disperse, I lend, and will with usury  
Return unto my heap: I only then  
Am rich, and happy, (though my coffers sound  
With emptiness) when my glad subjects feel,  
Their plenty and felicity is my gift;  
And they will find, when they with cheerfulness  
Supply not my defects, I being the stomach  
To the politic body of the State, the limbs  
Grow suddenly faint, and feeble; I could urge  
Proofs of more fineness in their shape and language,  
But none of greater strength: dissuade me not,  
What we will, we will do; yet to assure you,  
Your care does not offend us, for an hour,  
be happy in the converse of my best  
And dearest comfort; may you please to licence  
My privacy some few minutes?  Athenais. 
Licence Sir,  
I have no will, but is derived from yours,  
And that still waits upon you, nor can I  
be left with such security with any,  
As with the gracious Princess, who received  
Addition, though she be all excellence,  
In being styled your sister.  Theod. 
O sweet creature!  
Let me be censured fond, and too indulgent,  
Nay though they say uxorious, I care not,  
Her love, and sweet humility exact  
A tribute far beyond my power, to pay  
Her matchless goodness. Forward.  Exeunt, Theodosius and the train. Pulch. 
Now you find  
Your dying father's prophecy that foretold  
Your present greatness, to the full accomplished.  
For the poor aids, and furtherance I lent you,  
I willingly forget:  Ath. 
e'en that binds me  
To a more strict remembrance of the favour,  
Nor shall you from my soul ingratitude,  
In any circumstance ever find cause  
T'upbraid me with your benefit.  Pul. 
I believe so.  
Pray you give us leave: what now I must deliver  
Under the deepest seal of secrecy,  
Though it be for you good, will give assurance  
Of what is looked for, if you not alone  
Hear, but obey my counsels.  Ath. 
They must be  
Of a strange nature, if with zealous speed  
I put 'em not in practice.  Pul. 
'Twere impertinence  
To dwell on circumstances, since the wound  
Requires a sudden cure, especially  
Since you that are the happy instrument  
Elected to it, though young in your judgement  
Write far above your years, and may instruct  
Such as are more experienced.  Ath. 
Good madam,  
In this I must oppose you, I am well  
Acquainted with my weakness, and it will not  
Become your wisdom, by which I am raised  
To this titulary height, that should correct  
The pride, and overweening of my fortune,  
To play the parasite to it, in ascribing  
That merit to me, unto which I can  
Pretend no interest; pray you excuse  
My bold simplicity, and to my weight  
Design me where you please, and you shall find  
In my obedience, I am still your creature.  Pul. 
'Tis nobly answered, and I glory in  
The building I have raised; go on, sweet Lady,  
In this your virtuous progress but to the point,  
You know, nor do I envy it, you have  
Acquired that power, which, not long since, was mine,  
In governing the Emperor, and must use  
The strength you hold in the heart of his affections,  
For his private, as the public preservation,  
To which there is no greater enemy,  
Than his exorbitant prodigality,  
howe'er his sycophants, and flatterers call it  
Royal magnificence, and though you may  
Urge what's done for your honour, must not be  
curbed, or be controlled by you, you cannot in  
Your wisdom but conceive, if that the torrent  
Of his violent bounties be not stopped, or lessened,  
It will prove most pernicious. Therefore, Madam,  
Since 'tis your duty, as you are his wife,  
To give him saving counsels, and in being  
Almost his idol, may command him to  
Take any shape you please, with a powerful hand,  
To stop him in his precipice to ruin.  Ath. 
Avert it heaven.  Pul. 
Heaven is most gracious to you, madam,  
In choosing you to be the instrument  
Of such a pious work. You see he signs  
What suit soever is preferred, not once  
Inquiring what it is, yielding himself  
A prey to all; I would therefore have you, Lady,  
As I know you will to advise him, or command him,  
As he would reap the plenty of your favours,  
To use more moderation in his bounties,  
And that before he gives, he would consider,  
The what, to whom, and wherefore.  Ath. 
Do you think  
Such arrogance, or usurpation, rather,  
Of what is proper, and peculiar  
To every private husband, and much more  
To him an Emperor, can rank with th'obedience  
And duty of a wife? are we appointed  
In our creation (let me reason with you)  
To rule, or to obey? or 'cause he loves me  
With a kind impotence, must I tyrannize  
Over his weakness? or abuse the strength  
With which he arms me to his wrong? or, like  
A prostituted creature, merchandise  
Our mutual delight for hire? or to  
Serve mine own sordid ends? in vulgar nuptials  
Priority is exploded, though there be  
A difference in the parties, and shall I,  
His vassal from obscurity raised by him  
To this so eminent light, presume to appoint him  
To do, or not to do this, or that: when wives  
Are well accommodated by their husbands  
With all things both for use, and ornament,  
Let them fix there, and never dare to question  
Their wills or actions. For myself, I vow,  
Though now my Lord would rashly give away  
His Sceptre, and imperial Diadem,  
Or if there could be any thing more precious,  
I would not cross it; but I know this is  
But a trial of my temper, and as such  
I do receive it, or if't be otherwise,  
You are so subtle in your arguments,  
I dare not stay to hear them.  Pulcher. 
Is't e'en so?  
I have power over these yet, and command their stay,  
To harken nearer to me.  1 Sister. 
We are charged  
By the Emperor, our brother, to attend  
The Empress service.  2 Sister. 
You are too mortified sister,  
(With reverence I speak it) for young Ladies  
To keep you company. I am so tired  
With your tedious exhortations, doctrines, uses,  
Of your religious morality,  
That for my health sake, I must take the freedom  
To enjoy a little of those pretty pleasures  
That I was borne to:  1 Sister. 
When I come to your years,  
I'll do as you do, but till then, with your pardon,  
I'll lose no more time. I have not learned to dance yet  
Nor sing, but holy hymns, and those to vile tunes too;  
Nor to discourse, but of Schoolmen's opinions.  
How shall I answer my suitors? since, I hope,  
Ere long I shall have many, without practice  
To write, and speak something that's not derived  
From the fathers of Philosophy.  2 Sister. 
We shall shame  
Our breeding Sister, if we should go on thus.  1 Sister. 
'Tis for your credit, that we study  
How to converse with men; women with women  
Yields but a barren argument.  2 Sister. 
She frowns,  
But you'll protect us Madam?  Ath. 
Yes, and love  
Your sweet simplicity.  1 Sister. 
All young girls are so,  
Till they know the way of't.  2 Sister. 
But when we are entered,  
We shall on a good round pace,  Ath. 
I'll leave you Madam.  1 Sister. 
And we our duties with you.  Exeunt Athenais and the young ladies. Pul. 
On all hands  
Thus slighted? no way left? am I grown stupid  
In my invention? can I make no use  
Of the Emperor's bounties? now 'tis thought: within there.  Servant. 
Madam. Enter a Servant.  Pul. 
It shall be so; nearer; your ear  
Draw a petition to this end.  Seru. 
Besides  
The danger to prefer it, I believe  
'twill ne'er be granted.  Pul. 
How's this? are you grown,  
From a servant, my director? let me hear  
No more of this. Dispatch, I'll master him  
At his own weapon. Exit Servant.  Enter Theodosius, Favorinus, Philanax, Timantus, Gratianus. Theod. 
Let me understand it,  
If yet there be aught wanting that may perfect  
A general happiness.  Fauor. 
The people's joy  
In seas of acclamations flow in  
To wait on yours.  Philanax. 
Their love with bounty levied,  
Is a sure guard. Obedience forced from fear,  
Paper fortification, which in danger  
Will yield to the impression of a reed,  
Or of itself fall off.  Theod. 
True, Philanax.  
And by that certain compass we resolve  
To steer our Bark of government.  Enter Servant with the petition. Pul. 
'Tis well.  The. 
My dearest, and my all-deserving Sister,  
As a petitioner kneel? it must not be,  
Pray you, rise, although your suit were half my Empire,  
'Tis freely granted.  Pulch. 
Your alacrity  
To give hath made a beggar; yet before  
My suit is by your sacred hand and seal  
Confirmed, 'tis necessary you peruse  
The sum of my request.  Theod. 
we will not wrong  
Your judgement, in conceiving what 'tis fit  
For you to ask, and us to grant, so much,  
As to proceed with caution, give me my signet,  
With confidence I sign it, and here vow  
By my father's soul, but with your free consent  
It is irrevocable.  Timantus. 
What if she now  
Calling to memory, how often we  
Have crossed her government, in revenge hath made  
Petition for our heads?  Gratianus. 
They must even off then,  
No ransom can redeem us.  Theod. 
Let those jewels  
So highly rated by the Persian merchants  
be bought, and as a sacrifice from us  
Presented to Eudoxa. she being only  
Worthy to wear 'em, I am angry with  
The unresistable necessity  
Of my occasions, and important cares  
That so long keep me from her.  Exeunt Theodosius and the trainel Fulcher. 
Go to the Empress,  
And tell her on the sudden, I am sick,  
And do desire, the comfort of a visit,  
If she please to vouchsafe it. From me use  
Your humblest language: But when once I have her  
In my possession, I will rise, and speak  
In a higher strain, say it raise storms, no matter.  
fools judge by the event, my ends are honest. Exeunt.   

Act. 3. Scene 3.  Theodosius. Timantus. Philanax. Theod. 
WHat is become of her? can she that carries  
Such glorious excellence, of light about her  
Be anywhere concealed?  Philanax. 
we have sought her lodgings,  
And all we can learn from the servants is,  
She by your majesty's sisters waited on,  
(The attendance of her other officers  
By her express command denied,)  Theod. 
Forbear  
Impertinent circumstances, whither went she? speak.  Phil. 
As they guess, to the laurel grove.  Theod. 
So slightly guarded!  
What an earthquake I feel in me! and but that  
Religion assures the contrary,  
The poet's dreams of lustful Fawns, and satyrs,  
Would make me fear, I know not what.  Enter Paulinus. Paul. 
I have sound her,  
And it please your Majesty.  Theod. 
Yes, it doth please me.  
But why returned without her?  Paul. 
As she made  
Her speediest approaches to your presence,  
A servant of the princess's Pulcheria  
Encountered her; what 'twas, he whispered to her  
I am ignorant, but hearing it, she started,  
And willed me to excuse her absence from you,  
The third part of an hour.  The. 
In this she takes  
So much of my life from me; yet I'll bear it  
With what patience I may; since 'tis her pleasure.  
Go back, my good Paulinus, and entreat her  
Not to exceed a minute.  Timant. 
Here's strange fondness! Exeunt.   

Act. 3. Scene 4.  Pulcheria. servants. Pul. 
You are certain she will come?  Ser. 
She is already  
Entered your outward lodgings.  Pul. 
No train with her?  Ser. 
Your excellence sisters only.  Pulch. 
'Tis the better;  
See the doors strongly guarded, and deny  
Access to all, but with our special licence.  
Why dost thou stay? show your obedience,  
Your wisdom now is useless. Exeunt Servants.  Enter Athenais, Arcadia, Flaccilla. Flac. 
She is sick sure,  
Or, in fit reverence to your Majesty,  
She had waited you at the door.  Ar. 
'Twould hardly be Pulcheria walking by.  
Excused, in civil manners, to her equal,  
But with more difficulty to you, that are  
So far above her.  Ath. 
Not in her opinion;  
She hath been too long accustomed to command  
T'acknowledge a superior.  Ar. 
There she walks.  Fla. 
If she be not sick of the sullens, I see not  
The least infirmity in her.  Ath. 
This is strange!  Ar. 
Open your eyes; the Empress.  Pul. 
Reach that chair:  
Now sitting thus at distance, I'll vouchsafe  
To look upon her.  Ar. 
How! sister: pray you awake,  
Are you in your wits?  Fla. 
Grant heaven, your too much learning  
Does not conclude in madness.  Ath. 
You entreated  
A visit from me.  Pul. 
True, my servant used  
Such language, but now as a mistress I  
Command your service.  Ath. 
Service!  Ar. 
She's stark mad, sure.  Pul. 
You'll find I can dispose of what's mine own  
Without a guardian.  Ath. 
Follow me. I will see you  
When your frantic fit is over. I do begin  
To be of your belief.  Pulch. 
It will deceive you.  
Thou shalt not stir from hence, thus as mine own  
I seize upon thee.  Flac. 
Help, help, violence  
Offered to the Empress person.  Pulch. 
'Tis in vain:  
She was an Empress once, but, by my gift,  
Which, being abused, I do recall my grant.  
You are read in story; call to remembrance,  
What the great Hector's mother Hecuba  
Was to Ulysses, Ilium sacked.  Ath. 
A slave.  Pulch. 
To me thou art so:  Ath. 
Wonder and amazement  
Quite overwhelm me: how am I transformed?  
How have I lost my liberty?  Knocking without: Enter Servant. Pulcheria. 
Thou shall know  
Too soon, no doubt. Who's that with such rudeness  
Beats at the door?  Ser. 
The Prince Paulinus, madam,  
Sent from the Emperor to attend upon  
The gracious Empress.  Ar. 
And who is your slave now?  Fla. 
Sister, repent in time, and beg pardon  
For your presumption.  Pulch. 
It is resolved:  
From me return this answer to Paulinus;  
She shall not come; she's mine; the Emperor hath  
No interest in her. Exit Servant.  Ath. 
Whatsoever I am,  
You take not from your power o'er me, to yield  
A reason for this usage.  Pulch. 
Though my will is  
Sufficient to add to thy affliction,  
Know wretched thing, 'tis not thy fate, but folly  
Hath made thee what thou art: 'tis some delight  
To urge my merits to one so ungrateful;  
Therefore with horror hear it. When thou wert  
Thrust as a stranger from thy father's house,  
Exposed to all calamities that want  
Could throw upon thee, thine own brother's scorn,  
And in thy hopes, as by the world forsaken,  
My pity, the last altar that was left thee,  
I heard thy Siren charms, with feeling heard them,  
And my compassion made mine eyes vy tears  
With thine, dissembling Crocodile; and when Queens  
Were emulous for thy imperial bed,  
The garments of thy sorrow's east aside,  
I put thee in a shape as would have forced  
Envy from Cleopatra, had she seen thee;  
Then, when I knew my brother's blood was warmed  
With youthful fires, I brought thee to his presence,  
And how my deep designs, for thy good plotted,  
Succeeded to my wishes, is apparent,  
And needs no repetition.  Ath. 
I am conscious  
Of your so many, and unequalled favours,  
But find not how I may accuse myself  
For any facts committed, that with justice  
Can raise your anger to this height against me.  Pul. 
Pride and forgetfulness would not let thee see that,  
Against which now thou canst not close thine eyes.  
What injury could be equal to thy late  
Contempt of my good counsel, when I urged  
The Emperor's prodigal bounties, and entreated  
That you would use your power to give 'em limits,  
Or, at the least, a due consideration  
Of such as sued, and for what, ere he signed it?  
In opposition you brought against me  
Th'obedience of a wife, that Ladies were not,  
Being well accommodated by their Lords,  
To question, but much less to cross their pleasures;  
Nor would you, though the Emperor were resolved  
To give away his Sceptre, hinder it,  
Since 'twas done for your honour, covering with  
False colours of humility your ambition.  Ath. 
And is this my offence?  Pul. 
As wicked counsel  
Is still most hurtful unto those that give it;  
Such as deny to follow what is good,  
In reason, are the first that must repent it.  
When I please you shall hear more, in the mean time  
Thank your own wilful folly that hath changed you  
From an Empress to a bondwoman.  Theod. 
Force the doors,  
Kill those that dare resist.  Enter Theodosius. Paulinus. Philanax. Chrysapius. Gratianus. Ath. 
Dear Sir redeem me.  Flaccilla. 
O suffer not, for your own honour's sake,  
The Empress you so late loved to be made  
A prisoner in the court.  Arcad. 
Leap to his lips,  
You'll find them the best sanctuary.  Flaccilla. 
And try then,  
What interest my reverend Sister hath  
To force you from 'em.  Theod. 
What strange may-game's this?  
Though done in sport, how ill this levity  
Becomes your wisdom?  Pulch. 
I am serious Sir,  
And have done nothing but what you in honour,  
And as you are yourself an Emperor,  
Stand bound to justify.  Theod. 
Take heed, put not these  
Strange trials on my patience.  Pulcher. 
Do not you Sir,  
Deny your own act; as you are a man,  
And stand on your own bottoms, 'twill appear  
A childish weakness to make void a grant,  
Signed by your sacred hand, and seal, and strengthened  
With a religious oath, but with my licence,  
Never to be recalled. For some few minutes,  
Let reason rule your passion, and in this, delivers the deed.  
be pleased to read my interest; you will find there  
What you in me call violence, is justice,  
And that I may make use of what's mine own,  
According to my will. 'tis your own gift Sir,  
And what an Emperor gives, should stand as firm  
As the celestial poles upon the shoulders  
Of Atlas, or his successor in that office  
The great Alcides.  Theod. 
Miseries of more weight,  
Then 'tis feigned they supported, fall upon me,  
What hath my rashness done? in this transaction  
Drawn, in express and formal terms I have  
Given and consigned into your hands, to use  
And observe, as you please, my dear Eudoxa.  
It is my deed, I do confess it is,  
And as I am myself, not to be canceled:  
But yet you may show mercy, and you will,  
When you consider that there is no beauty,  
So perfect in a creature, but is soiled  
With some unbeseeming blemish; you have laboured  
To build me up a complete Prince, 'tis granted,  
Yet as I am a man, like other Monarchs,  
I have defects and frailties, my facility,  
To send petitioners with pleased looks from me,  
Is all I can be charged with, and it will  
Become your wisdom, (since 'tis in your power)  
In charity to provide, I fall no further  
Or in my oath, or honour.  Pul. 
Royal Sir,  
This was the mark I aimed at, and I glory  
At the length, you so conceive it. 'twas a weakness  
To measure by your own integrity  
The purposes of others. I have shown you  
In a true mirror what fruit grows upon  
The tree of hoodwinked bounty, and what dangers  
Precipitation in the managing  
Your great affairs produceth.  Theod. 
I embrace it  
As a grave advertisement, and vow hereafter  
Never to sign petitions at this rate.  Pulch. 
For mine, see Sir. 'tis canceled, on my knees  
I redeliver what I now begged from you. Tears the deed:  
She is my second gift.  Theod. 
Which if I part from  
Till death divorce us. Kissing Athen.  Athenais. 
So Sir,  Theod. 
Nay sweet chide not  
I am punished in thy looks, defer the rest,  
Till we are more private.  Pulch. 
I ask pardon too  
If in my personated passion I  
Appeared too harsh, and rough.  Ath. 
'Twas gentle language, what I was then considered  Pulch. 
O dear Madame,  
It was decorum in the Scane:  Athen. 
This trial,  
When I was Athenais, might have passed,  
But as I am the Empress.  Theod. 
Nay no anger,  
Since all good was intended.  Exeunt. Theodosius. Athenais. Arcadia. Flaccilla. Pulcheria. 
Building on,  
That certain base, I fear not what can follow, Exit Pulch.  Paulinus. 
These are strange devices Philanax.  Philan. 
True my Lord,  
May all turn to the best.  Grat. 
The emperor's looks  
Promised a calm.  Chrysapius. 
But the vexed Empress frowns  
Presaged a second storm.  Paul. 
I am sure I feel one,  
In my leg already.  Philan. 
Your old friend, the gout?  Paul. 
My forced companion, Philanax.  Chrys. 
To your rest:  Paul. 
Rest and forbearing wine, with a temperate diet,  
Though many mountebanks pretend the cure of't,  
I have found my best Physicians,  Phil. 
Ease to your Lordship. Exeunt.  
The end of the third Act.    


Actus 4. Scaen. 1.  Athenais. Chrysapius. Ath. 
MAke me her property?  Chrys. 
Your majesty  
Hath just cause of distaste, and your resentment  
Of the affront in the point of honour cannot  
But meet a fair construction.  Ath. 
I have only  
The title of an Empress, but the power  
Is, by her, ravished from me. she surveys  
My actions as a governess, and calls  
My not observing all that she directs  
Folly, and disobedience.  Chrys. 
Under correction,  
With grief I have long observed it, and if you  
Stand pleased to sign my warrant I'll deliver  
In my unfeigned zeal, and desire to serve you,  
(howe'er I run the hazard of my head for't  
Should it arrive at the knowledge of the Princess,)  
Not alone, the reasons why things are thus carried,  
But give into your hands the power to clip  
The wings of her command.  Ath. 
Your service this way  
Cannot offend me.  Chrys. 
Be you pleased to know then  
But still with pardon, if I am too bold,  
Your too much sufferance imps the broken feathers  
Which carry her to this proud height, in which  
She with security, soars, and still towers over you,  
But if you would employ the strengths you hold  
In the emperor's affections, and remember  
The orb you move in should admit no star else,  
You never would confess the managing  
Of state affairs to her alone are proper,  
And you sit by a looker on,  Athenais. 
I would not,  
If it were possible I could attempt,  
Her diminution, without a taint  
Of foul ingratitude in myself.  Chrysapius. 
In this  
The sweetness of your temper does abuse you,  
And you call that a benefit to yourself  
Which she for her own ends conferred upon you.  
'Tis yielded she gave way to your advancement:  
But for what cause? that she might still continue  
Her absolute sway, and swing o'er the whole state,  
And that she might to her admirers vaunt,  
The Empress was her creature, and the giver  
To be preferred before the gift.  Athenais. 
It may be.  Chrys. 
Nay 'tis most certain: whereas would you please  
In a true glass to look upon yourself,  
And view without detraction your own merits  
Which all men wonder at; you would find that fate,  
Without a second cause, appointed you  
To the supremest honour. For the Princess,  
She hath reigned long enough, and her remove  
Will make your entrance free to the possession  
Of what you were borne to, & but once resolve  
To build upon her ruins, leave the engines  
That must be used to undermine her greatness  
To my provision.  Ath. 
I thank your care,  
But a design of such weight must not be  
Rashly determined of, it will exact  
A long and serious consultation from me.  
In the mean time Chrysapius rest assured  
I live your thankful Mistress. Exit Ath.  Chrys. 
Is this all?  
Will the Physic that I ministered work no further?  
I have played the fool, and leaving a calm port  
Embarked myself on a rough sea of danger.  
In her silence lies my safety, which how can I  
Hope from a woman? but the die is thrown,  
And I must stand the hazard.  Enter Theodosius. Philanax. Timantus. Gratianus. Huntsmen. Theod. 
Is Paulinus  
So tortured with his gout?  Phil. 
Most miserably,  
And it adds much to his affliction, that  
The pain denies him power to wait upon  
Your Majesty.  Theod. 
I pity him: he is  
A wondrous honest man, and what he suffers,  
I know will grieve my Empress.  Tim. 
He indeed is  
Much bound to her gracious favour.  Theod. 
He deserves it,  
She cannot find a subject upon whom  
She better may confer it: is the stag  
Safe lodged?  Gratian. 
Yes Sir, and the hounds and huntsmen ready.  Philan. 
He will make you royal sport. He is a deer  
Of ten at the least.  Enter Countryman with the apple. Gratianus. 
Whither will this clown?  Timant. 
Stand back.  Countrym. 
I would zee the Emperor, why should you Courtiers  
Scorn a poor Countryman? we zweat at the Plough  
To vill your mouths, you and you curs might starve else.  
we prune the orchards, and you crunch she fruit;  
Yet still you are snarling at us.  Theod. 
What's the matter?  Count. 
I would look on thy sweet face.  Timantus. 
Unmannerly swain.  Count. 
Zwaine, though I am a zwaine, I have a heart yet,  
As ready to do service for my liege,  
As any Princox Peacock of you all.  
Zookers had I one of you zingle with this twig,  
I would so veeze you.  Timant, 
Will your Majesty  
Hear his rude language?  Theod. 
Yes, and hold it as  
An ornament, not a blemish. O Timantus!  
Since that dread power by whom we are, disdains not  
With an open ear to hear petitions from us,  
Easy access in us his deputies,  
To the meanest of our subjects, is a debt,  
Which we stand bound to pay.  Count. 
By my granam's ghost  
'Tis a wholesome saying, our vicar could not mend it  
In the pulpit on a Zunday.  Theod. 
What's they suit friend?  Count. 
Zute? I would laugh at that. Let the court beg from thee.  
What the poor country gives: I bring a present  
To thy good grace, which I can call mine own,  
And look not like these gay folk for a return,  
Of what they venture. Have I given't you? ha,  Chrys. 
A perilous knave.  Count. 
See here a dainty Apple, Presents the Apple.  
Of mine own grafting, zweete, and zownde I assure thee.  Theod. 
It is the fairest fruit I ever saw.  
Those golden apples in the Hesperian orchards  
So strangely guarded by the watchful Dragon,  
As they required great Hercules to get 'em,  
Nor those with which Hippomenes deceived,  
Swift footed Atalanta, when I look  
On this, deserve no wonder. You behold  
The pooreman, and his present with contempt  
I to their value prize both; he that could  
So aid weak nature, by his care, and labour,  
As to compel a crabtree stock to bear  
A precious fruit of this large size, and beauty,  
Would by his industry change a petty village  
Into a populous City, and from that  
Erect a flourishing Kingdom. Give the fellow  
For an encouragement to his future labours,  
Ten Attic talents.  Countrym. 
I will weary heaven  
With my prayers for your Majesty. Exit Count.  Theod. Philanax, 
From me present this rarity to the rarest  
And best of women, when I think upon  
The boundless happiness that from her flow to me  
In my imagination I am raped  
Beyond myself; but I forget our hunting,  
To the forest for the exercise of my body,  
But for my mind, 'tis wholly taken up,  
In the contemplation of her matchless virtues. Exeunt.   

Act. 4. Scaena 2.  Athenais, Pulcheria. Arcadia. Flacilla. Ath. 
you shall know there's a difference between us.  Pulch. 
There was I am certain not long since, when you  
Kneeled a petitioner to me, than you were happy  
To be near my feet, and do you hold it now  
As a disparagement that I side you Lady.  Ath. 
Since you respect me only as I was,  
What I am shall be remembered.  Pul. 
Does the means,  
I practised to give good, and saving counsels  
To the Emperor, and your new stamped majesty  
Still stick in your stomach?  Ath. 
'Tis not yet digested,  
In troth it is not, why good governess,  
Though you are held for a grand Madam, and yourself,  
The first that overprize it, I ne'er took  
Your words for Delphian oracles, nor your actions  
For such wonders as you make 'em, there is one  
When she shall see her time, as fit and able  
To be made partner of the emperor's cares,  
As your wise self, and may with justice challenge  
A nearer interest. You have done your visit,  
So when you please, you may leave me.  Pul. 
I'll not bandy  
Words with your mightiness, prowed one, only this,  
You carry too much sail for your small bark,  
And that when you least think upon't may sink you. Exit Pulch.  Flacc. 
I am glad she is gone.  Arcadia. 
I feared she would have read  
A tedious lecture to us. Enter Phil. with the apple.  Philanax. 
From the Emperor,  
This rare fruit to the rarest.  Ath. 
How my Lord?  Philanax. 
I use his language madam, and that trust,  
Which he imposed on me, discharged, his pleasure  
Commands my present service. Exit Philan.  Ath. 
Have you seen  
So fair an Apple?  Flacc. 
Never.  Arcad. 
If the taste  
Answer the beauty.  Ath. 
Prettily begged, you should have it,  
But that you eat too much cold fruit, and that  
Changes the fresh red in your cheeks to paleness.  Enter Servant. 
I have other dainties for you; you come from  
Paulinus, how is't with that truly noble,  
And honest Lord? my witness at the fount;  
In a word the man to whose blessed charity  
I owe my greatness. How is't with him?  Servant. 
Spiritely,  
In his mind, but by the raging of his gout  
In his body much distempered, that you pleased  
To inquire his health, took off much from his pain,  
His glad looks did confirm it.  Ath. 
do his Doctors  
Give him no hope?  Seru. 
Little, they rather fear,  
By his continual burning, that he stands  
In danger of a fever.  Ath. 
To him again,  
And tell him that I heartily wish it lay  
In me to ease him, and from me deliver  
This choice fruit to him, you may say to that,  
I hope it will prove Physical.  Seru. 
The good Lord  
Will be overjoyed with the favour.  Ath. 
He deserves more, Exeunt.   

Actus 4. Scaena 3.  Paulinus brought in a chair. Chirurgeon. Chirurg. 
I Have done as much as art can do, to stop  
The violent course of your fit, and I hope you feel it,  
How does your honour?  Paul. 
At some ease, I thank you,  
I would you could assure continuance of it,  
For the moiety of my fortune.  Chir. 
If I could cure  
The gout my Lord, without the philosopher's stone  
I should soon purchase, it being a disease,  
In poor men very rare, and in the rich  
The cure impossible, your many bounties;  
Bid me prepare you for a certain truth,  
And to flatter you were dishonest.  Paul. 
Your plain dealing  
Deserves a fee. Would there were many more such  
Of your profession. Happy are poormen,  
If sick with the excess of heat or cold,  
Caused by necessitous labour, not loose surfeits  
They, when spare diet, or kind nature fail,  
To perfect their recovery, soon arrive at  
Their rest in death, but on the contrary  
The great, and noble are exposed as preys  
To the rapine of Physicians, and they  
In lingering out what is remediless,  
Aim at their profit, not the patient's health;  
A thousand trials and experiments  
Have been put upon me, and I forced to pay dear  
For my vexation, but I am resolved,  
(I thank your honest freedom) to be made  
A property no more for knaves to work on.  
What have you there?  Enter Cleon with a parchment role. Cleon. 
The triumphs of an artsman  
o'er all infirmities, made authentical  
With the names of Princes, Kings and Emperors  
That were his patients.  Paul. 
Some Empiric.  Cleon. 
It may be so, but he swears within three days  
He will grub up your gout by the roots, and make you able  
To march ten leagues a day in complete armour,  Paul. 
Impossible,  Cleon. 
Or if you like not him  Chirurg. 
Hear him, my Lord, for your mirth; I will take order,  
They shall not wrong you.  Paul. 
Usher in your monster.  Cleon. 
He is at hand, march up: now speak for yourself?  Enter Empiric. Emper. 
I come not (right honourable) to your presence, with any base and sordid end of reward; the immortality of my fame is the white I shoot at, the charge of my most curious, and costly ingredients frayed, amounting to some seventeen thousand crowns, a trifle in respect of health, writing your noble name in my Catalogue, I shall acknowledge myself amply satisfied.  Chir. 
I believe so.  Emper. 
For your own sake I most heartily wish, that you had now all the diseases, maladies and infirmities upon you, that were ever remembered by old Galen, Hippocrates, or the later, and more admired Paracelsus.  Paul. 
For your good wish, I thank you.  Emper. 
Take me with you, I beseech your good Lordship, I urged it that your joy in being certainly: and suddenly freed from them, may be the greater, and my not to be paralleled skill the more remarkable: the cure of the gout a toy, without boast be it said, my cradle practise, the camer, the Fistula, the Dropsy, consumption of lungs, and Kidneys, hurts in the brain, heart, or liver, are things worthy my opposition, but in the recovery of my patients I ever overcome them, but to your gout.  Paul. 
I marry Sir, that cured I shall be apter  
To give credit to the rest  Emp. 
Suppose it done Sir,  Chir. 
And the means, you use I beseech you.  Emper. 
I will do it in the plainest language, and discover my ingredients. First my boteni Terebinthina, of Cypris, my Manna, ros coelo, coagulated with vetulos ovorum, vulgarly yelks of Eggs, with a little Cyath, or quantity of my potable Elixir, with some few scruples of sassafras and Guacum, so taken every morning and evening, in the space of three days, purgeth, cleanseth, and dissipateth the inward causes of the virulent tumour.  Paul. 
Why do you smile?  Chir. 
When he hath done I will resolve you.  Emper. 
For my exterior applications I have these balsumunguentulums extracted from herbs plants, roots, seeds, gums, and a million of other vegetables, the principal of which are ulissipona, or Serpentaria, Sophia, or Herba consolidarum, Parthenium or commanilla Romana, Mumia transmarina, mixed with my plumbum Philosophorum, and matter metallorum, cum ossa paraleli, est universale medicamentum in podagra.  Cleon 
A coniuring balsamum,  Emp. 
This applied warm upon the pained place, with a feather of Struthiocameli cameli, or a bird of Paradise which is everywhere to be had, shall expulse this tartarous, viscous, anatheos, and malignant dolour.  Chir. 
An excellent receipt, but does your Lordship  
Know what it is good for?  Paul. 
I would be instructed,  Chir. 
For the gonorrhoea, or if you will hear it  
In a plainer phrase, the pox.  Emper. 
If it cure his Lordship  
Of that by the way, I hope Sir 'tis the better;  
My medicine serves for all things, and the pox Sir,  
Though falsely named the Sciatica, or gout,  
Is the more Catholic sickness.  Paul. 
Hence with the rascal.  
Yet hurt him not, he makes me smile, and that  
Frees him from punishment. They thrust off the Emper  Chir. 
Such slaves as this  
Render our art contemptible,  Enter Servant Seru. 
My good Lord,  Paul. 
So soon returned?  Seru. 
And with this present from  
Your great, and gracious Mistress, with her wishes  
It may prove Physical to you.  Paul. 
In my heart  
I kneel, and thank her bounty. dear friend Cleon  
Give him the cupboard of Plate in the next room.  
For a reward.  Exeunt Cleon and the Servant. 
Most glorious fruit, but made  
More precious by her grace, and love that sent it.  
To touch it only coming from her hand  
Makes me forget all pain. A Diamond  
Of this large size, though it would buy a Kingdom,  
Hewed from the rock, and laid down at my feet,  
Nay though a monarch's gift, will hold no value,  
Compared with this, and yet ere I presume  
To taste it, though sans question it is  
Some heavenly restorative, I in duty  
Stand bound to weigh my own unworthiness:  
Ambrosia is food only for the Gods;  
And not by humane lips to be profaned:  
I may adore it as some holy Relic,  
Derived from thence, but impious to keep it,  
In my possession; the Emperor only,  
Is worthy to enjoy it go good Cleon, Enter Cleon  
(And cease this admiration at this object;)  
From me present this to my royal master,  
I know it will amaze him, and excuse me  
That I am not myself the bearer of it.  
That I should be lame now, when with wings of duty  
I should fly to the service of this Empress,  
Nay no delay good Cleon.  Cleon. 
I am gone Sir. Exeunt.   

Act. 4. Scene 4.  Theodosius. Chrysapius. Timantus. Gratianus. Chrys. 
ARE you not tired Sir?  Theod. 
tired? I must not say so  
However, though I rode hard; to a huntsman,  
His toil is his delight, and to complain  
Of weariness, would show as poorly in him,  
As if a General should grieve for a wound,  
Received upon his forehead, or his breast,  
After a glorious victory, lay by  
These accoutrements for the chase. Enter Pulch.  Pulch. 
You are well returned Sir,  
From your Princely exercise.  Theod. 
Sister, to you  
I owe the freedom, and the use of all  
The pleasures I enjoy; your care provides  
For my security, and the burden which  
I should alone sustain, you undergo,  
And by your painful watchings, yield my sleeps  
Both sound, and sure. How happy am I in  
Your knowledge of the art of government!  
And credit me, I glory to behold you  
Dispose of great designs, as if you were  
A partner, and no subject of my Empire.  Pulch. 
My vigilance, since it hath well succeeded.  
I am confident, you allow of, yet it is not  
Approved by all.  Theod. 
Who dares repine at that,  
Which hath our suffrage?  Pulch. 
One that too well knows,  
The strength of her abilities can better  
My weak endeavours.  Theod. 
In this you reflect  
Upon my Empress?  Pul. 
True, for as she is  
The consort of your bed, 'tis fit she share in  
Your cares, and absolute power.  Theod. 
You touch a string  
That sounds but harshly to me, and I must  
In a brother's love advise you that hereafter  
You would forbear to move it. Since she is  
In her pure self a harmony of such sweetness,  
Composed of duty, chaste desires, her beauty  
(Though it might tempt a Hermit from his beads)  
The least of her endowments. I am sorry  
Her holding the first place, since that the second  
Is proper to yourself, calls on your envy.  
she err? it is impossible in a thought,  
And much more speak, or do what may offend me.  
In other things, I would believe you sister:  
But though the tongues of Saints, and Angels taxed her  
Of any imperfection, I should be  
Incredulous.  Pulcheria. 
she is yet a woman Sir.  Theod. 
The abstract of what's excellent in the sex:  
But to their mulcts, and frailties a mere stranger;  
I'll die in this belief. Enter Cleon with the apple.  Cleon. 
Your humblest servant,  
The Lord Paulinus, as a witness of  
His zeal, and duty to your Majesty,  
Presents you with this jewel.  Theod. 
Ha!  Cleon. 
It is  
Preferred by him.  Theod. 
Above his honour?  Cleon. 
No Sir,  
I would have said his patrimony,  Theod. 
'Tis the same.  Cleon. 
And he entreats, since lameness may excuse  
His not presenting it himself, from me  
(Though far unworthy to supply his place)  
You would vouchsafe to accept it.  Theod. 
Farther off,  
You have told your tale. Stay you for a reward?  
Take that. Strikes him.  Pulch. 
How's this?  Chrys. 
I never saw him moved thus.  Theo. 
we must not part so Sir, a guard upon him. Enter Guard. they all got aside.  Theod. 
May I not vent my sorrows in the air,  
Without discovery? forbear the room,  
Yet be within call, what an earthquake I feel in me?  
And on the sudden my whole fabric totters.  
My blood within me turns, and through my veins  
Parting with natural redness I discern it,  
Changed to a fatal yellow: what an army  
Of hellish furies in the horrid shapes  
Of doubts, and fears, charge on me! rise to my rescue,  
Thou stout maintainer of a chaste wife's honour,  
The confidence of her virtues; be not shaken  
With the wind of vain surmises, much less suffer  
The devil jealousy to whisper to me  
My curious observation of that  
I must no more remember. Will it not be?  
Thou uninvited guest, ill mannered monster,  
I charge thee leave me, wilt thou force me to  
Give fuel to that fire I would put out?  
The goodness of my memory proves my mischief,  
And I would sell my Empire, could it purchase  
The dull art of forgetfulness. Who waits there?  Timantus. 
Most sacred Sir.  Theod. 
Sacred, as 'tis accursed  
Is proper to me. Sirrah, upon your life,  
Without a word concerning this, command Exit Tim..  
Eudoxia to come to me; would I had  
ne'er known her by that name, my mother's name,  
Or that for her own sake she had continued  
Poor Athenais still— No intermission?  
Wilt thou so soon torment me? must I read  
Writ in the table of my memory,  
To warrant my suspicion, how Paulinus  
(Though ever thought a man averse to women)  
First gave her entertainment? made her way  
For audience to my sister; then I did  
myself observe how he was ravished with  
The gracious delivery of her story,  
(Which was I grant the bait that first took me too)  
she was his convert, what the rhetoric was  
He used I know not, and since she was mine,  
In private, as in public, what a mass  
Of grace and favours hath she heaped upon him!  
And but today this fatal fruit, she's come.  Enter Timantus. Athenais. Flaccilla. Arcadia. 
Can she be guilty?  Ath. 
You seem troubled Sir,  
My innocence makes me bold to ask the cause  
That I may ease you of it, no salute  
After four long hours absence?  Theod. 
Prithee forgive me. Kisses her.  
Me thanks I find Paulinus on her lips,  
And the fresh Nectar that I drew from thence  
Is on the sudden paled, how have you spent  
Your hours since I last saw you?  Ath. 
In the converse,  
Of your sweet sisters.  Theod. 
Did not Philanax  
From me deliver you an apple?  Ath. 
Yes Sir;  
Heaven! how you frown! pray you talk of something else,  
Think not of such a trifle.  Theod. 
How! a trifle?  
Does any toy from me presented to you,  
Deserve to be so slighted? do you value  
What's sent, and not the sender? from a peasant  
It had deserved your thanks.  Ath. 
And meets from you Sir  
All possible respect.  Theod. 
I prized it Lady  
At a higher rate than you believe, and would not  
Have parted with it, but to one I did  
Prefer before myself.  Ath. 
It was indeed  
The fairest that I ever saw.  Theod. 
It was?  
And it had virtues in it, my Eudoxia  
Not visible to the eye.  Ath. 
It may be so Sir,  Theod. 
What did you with it, tell me punctually;  
I look for a strict account.  Ath. 
What shall I answer?  Theod. 
Do you stagger? ha?  Ath. 
No Sir, I have eaten it.  
It had the pleasantest taste. I wonder that  
You found it not in my breath.  Theod. 
I saith I did not,  
And it was wondrous strange.  Ath: 
Pray you try again.  Theo. 
I find no scent of't here. You play with me  
You have it still?  Ath. 
By your sacred life, and fortune,  
An oath I dare not break, I have eaten it.  Theod. 
Do you know how this oath binds?  Ath. 
Too well, to break it.  Theod. 
That ever man to please his brutish sense  
Should slave his understanding to his passions,  
And taken with soon fading white and red  
Deliver up his credulous ears to hear  
The magic of a Siren, and from these  
Believe there ever was, is, or can be  
More than a seeming honesty in bad woman  Ath. 
This is strange language Sir.  Theod. 
Who waits? come all.  
Nay sister not so near, being of the sex,  
I fear you are infected to.  Pulch. 
What mean you?  Theod. 
To show you a miracle, a prodigy  
Which Afrique never: equalled can you think  
This master piece of heaven, this precious velum,  
Of such a purity, and virgin whiteness,  
Could be designed to have perjury, and whoredom  
In capital letters writ upon't?  Pulch. 
Dear Sir,  Theod. 
Nay add to this an impudence beyond  
All prostituted boldness. Art not dead yet?  
Will not the tempests in thy conscience rend thee  
As small as Atoms that there may no sign  
Be left, thou ever were so! wilt thou live  
Till thou art blasted with the dreadful lightning  
Of pregnant, and unanswerable proofs,  
Of thy adulterous twines? die yet that I  
With my honour may conceal it.  Ath: 
Would long since,  
The Gorgon of your rage had turned me marble,  
Or if I have offended?  Theod. 
If! good Angels!  
But I am tame: look on this dumb accuser.  Ath. 
O I am lost!  Theod. 
Did ever cormorant  
swallow his prey and then digest it whole  
As she hath done this apple? Philanax,  
As 'tis, from me presented it. The good Lady  
Swore she had eaten it; yet I know not how  
It came entire unto Paulinus hands,  
And I from him received it, sent in scorn  
Upon my life to give me a close touch,  
That he was weary of thee. Was there nothing  
Left thee to see him, to give satisfaction  
To thy insatiate lust, but what was sent  
As a dear favour from me? how have I sinned  
In my dotage on this creature? but to her  
I have lived, as I was borne, a perfect virgin.  
Nay more I thought it not enough to be  
True to her bed, but that I must feed high,  
To strengthen my abilities to cloy  
Her ravenous appetite, little suspecting  
She would desire a change.  Ath. 
I never did Sir.  Theod. 
Be dumb, I will not waste my breath in taxing  
Thy base ingratitude. How I have raised thee,  
Will by the world be to thy shame spoke often.  
But for that ribawd, who held in my Empire  
The next place to myself, so bound unto me  
By all the ties of duty, and allegiance  
He shall pay dear for't, and feel what it is  
In a wrong of such high consequence to pull down,  
His Lords slow anger on him. Philanax,  
he's troubled with the gout, let him be cured  
With a violent death, and in the other world,  
Thank his Physician.  Philanax. 
His cause unheard Sir?  Pulch. 
Take heed of rashness.  Theod. 
Is what I command,  
To be disputed?  Philan. 
Your will shall be done Sir:  
But that I am the instrument—  Theod. 
Do you murmur? Exit Phil with the guard.  
What couldst thou say if that my licence should,  
Give liberty to this tongue? thou wouldst die? I am not  Athen. kneeling, points to Theod. sword. 
So to be reconciled, See me no more.  
The sting of conscience ever gnawing on thee,  
A long life be thy punishment. Exit Theod.  Flacc. 
O sweet Lady  
How I could weep for her!  Arcad. 
Speak dear Madam, speak.  
Your tongue as you are a Woman, while you live,  
Should be ever moving, at the least the last part  
That stirs about you.  Pul. 
Though I should sad Lady  
In policy rejoice, you as a rival  
Of my greatness are removed, compassion,  
Since I believe you innocent, commands me  
To mourn your fortune, credit me I will urge  
All arguments I can allege that may  
Appease the emperor's fury.  Arc. 
I will grow too,  
Upon my knees, unless he bid me rise,  
And swear he will forgive you.  Flacc. 
And repent too  
All this pother for an apple?  Exeunt Pulcheria. Arcadia. Flaccilla. Chrys. 
Hope dear Madam,  
And yield not to despair, I am still your servant,  
And never will forsake you; though a while  
You leave the court, and city, and give way  
To the violent passions of the Emperor.  
Repentance in his want of you will soon find him.  
In the mean time I'll dispose of you, and omit  
No opportunity that may invite him  
To see his error.  Athen. 
Oh! Wrangling her hands.  Chrys. 
Forbear for heaven's sake:  
The end of the fourth act.    


Act. 5. Scene 1.  Philanac. Paulinus. Guard. Executioners. Paul. 
THis is most barbarous! how have you lost  
All feeling of humanity, as honour;  
In your consent alone to have me used thus?  
But to be as you are a looker on,  
Nay more a principal actor in't (the softness  
Of your former life considered) almost turns me  
Into a senseless statue.  Philanax. 
Would long since  
Death by some other means had made you one,  
That you might be less sensible of what  
You have, or are to suffer.  Paul. 
Am to suffer?  
Let such, whose happiness, and heaven depend  
Upon their present being fear to part with  
A fort they cannot long hold, mine to me is  
A charge that I am weary of, all defences  
By pain, and sickness battered; Yet take heed,  
Take heed Lord Philanax, that for private spleen  
Or any false conceived grudge against me,  
(Since in one thought of wrong to you, I am  
Sincerely innocent) you do not that  
My royal Master must in justice punish,  
If you pass to your own heart thorough mine  
The murder as it will come out discovered.  Phil. 
I murder you my Lord? heaven witness for me  
With the restoring of your health, I wish you  
Long life, and happiness: for myself I am  
Compelled to put in execution that  
Which I would fly from, 'tis the Emperor,  
The high incensed Emperors will commands  
What I must see performed.  Paul. 
The Emperor!  
Goodness, and innocence guard me! wheels, nor racks  
Can force into my memory, the remembrance  
Of the least shadow of offence, with which  
I ever did provoke him, though beloved  
(And yet the people's love is short, and fatal)  
I never courted popular applause;  
Feasted the men of action, or laboured  
By prodigal gifts to draw the needy soldier,  
The tribunes, or centurions to a faction,  
Of which I would rise up the head against him.  
I hold no place of strength, fortress, or castle  
In my command, that can give sanctuary  
To malcontents, or countenance rebellion.  
I have built no palaces to face the court,  
Nor do my follower's bravery shame his train,  
And though I cannot blame my fate for want,  
My competent means of life deserves no envy.  
In what then am I dangerous?  Phil. 
His displeasure  
Reflects on none of those particulars,  
Which you have mentioned, though some jealous Princes  
In a subject cannot brook 'em.  Paul. 
None of these?  
In what then am I worthy his suspicion?  
But it may, nay it must be, some informer  
To whom my innocence appeared a crime,  
Hath poisoned his late good opinion of me.  
'tis not to die, but in the censure of  
So good a Master guilty, that afflicts me.  Phil. 
There is no remedy.  Paul. 
No, I have a friend yet,  
Could the strictness of your warrant give way to it,  
To whom the state I stand in now delivered,  
That by fair intercession for me would  
So far prevail, that my defence unheard  
I should not innocent, or guilty suffer,  
Without a fit distinction.  Phil. 
These false hopes  
My Lord abuse you. What man, when condemned,  
Did ever find a friend? or who dares lend  
An eye of pity to that star-crossed subject  
On whom his sovereign frowns.  Paul. 
She that dares plead  
For innocence without a fee, the Empress,  
My great, and gracious Mistress!  Phil. 
There's your error.  
Her many favours which you hoped should make you,  
Prove your undoing. she poor Lady is  
Banished for ever from the emperor's presence,  
And his confirmed suspicion, to his wrong,  
That you have been over familiar with her,  
Dooms you to death. I know you understand me.  Paul. 
Over familiar?  Phil. 
In sharing with him;  
Those sweet and secret pleasures of his bed,  
Which can admit no partner.  Paul. 
And is that  
The crime for which I am to die? Of all  
My numerous sins, was there not one of weight  
Enough to sink me, if he borrowed not  
The colour of a guilt I never saw,  
To paint my innocence, in a deformed  
And monstrous shape? but that it were profane  
To argue heaven of ignorance, or injustice,  
I now should tax it. Had the stars that reigned  
At my nativity such cursed influence,  
As not alone to make me miserable,  
But in the neighbourhood of her goodness to me  
To force contagion upon a Lady,  
Whose purer flames were not inferior,  
To theirs, when they shine brightest? to die for her  
Compared with what she suffers is a trifle.  
By her example warned, let all great women  
hereafter throw pride, and contempt on such  
As truly serve 'em, since a retribution  
In lawful courtesies, is now styled lust,  
And to be thankful to a servant's merits  
Is grown a vice, no virtue.  Phil. 
These complaints  
Are to no purpose: think on the long flight,  
Your better part must make.  Paul. 
she is prepared  
Nor can the freeing of an innocent  
From the emperor's furious jealousy hinder her.  
It shall out, 'tis resolved, but to be whispered  
To you alone. What a solemn preparation  
Is made here to put forth an inch of taper  
In itself almost extinguished? mortal poison?  
The hangman's sword, the halter?  Phil. 
'tis left to you,  
To make choice of which you please.  Paulinus. 
Any will serve,  
To take away my gout, and life together.  
I would not have the Emperor imitate  
Rome's Monster, Nero, in that cruel mercy  
he showed to Seneca; when you have discharged  
What you are trusted with, and I have given you  
Reasons beyond all doubt, or disputation,  
Of the Empresses and my innocence, when I am dead,  
Since 'tis my Master's pleasure, and high treason  
In you not to obey it, I conjure you,  
By the hopes you have of happiness hereafter,  
Since mine in this world are now parting from me,  
That you would win the young man to repentance  
Of the wrong done to his chaste wife Eudoxia,  
And if perchance he shed a tear for what  
In his rashness he imposed on his true servant,  
So it cure him of future jealousy,  
'Twill prove a precious balsamum, and find me  
When I am in my grave. Now when you please,  
For I am ready.  Philanax. 
His words work strangely on me,  
And I would do, but I know not what to think on't. Ex.   

Act. 5. Scene 2.  Pulcheria. Flaccilla. Arcadia. Timantus. Gratianus. Chrysapius. Pulch. 
STill in his sullen mood? no intermission  
Of his melancholy fit?  Timantus. 
It rather Madam  
Increases, then grows less.  Gratianus. 
In the next room  
To his bedchamber, we watched, for he by signs  
Gave us to understand, he would admit  
Nor company, nor conference.  Pulch. 
Did he take  
No rest as you could guess?  Chrys. 
Not any Madam;  
Like a Numidian Lion, by the cunning  
Of the desperate huntsman taken in a toil,  
And forced into a spacious cage, he walks  
About his chamber, we might hear him gnash  
His teeth in rage, which opened, hollow groans  
And murmurs issued from his lips, like winds  
Imprisoned in the caverns of the earth  
Striving for liberty; and sometimes throwing  
His body on his bed, then on the ground,  
And with such violence, that we more than feared  
And still do, if the tempest of his passions  
By your wisdom be not laid, he will commit  
Some outrage on himself.  Pulch. 
His better Angel,  
I hope will stay him from so foul a mischief,  
Nor shall my care be wanting.  Tim: 
Twice I heard him,  
Say false Eudoxia, how much art thou  
Unworthy of these tears? then sighed, and straight  
Rores out Paulinus, was his gouty age  
To be preferred before my strength and youth?  
Then groaned again, so many ways expressing  
Th'afflictions of a tortured soul, that we  
Who wept in vain, for what we could not help,  
Were sharers in his sufferings.  Pulch. 
Though your sorrow  
Is not to be condemned, it takes not from  
The burden of his miseries; we must practise  
With some fresh object to divert his thoughts  
From that they are wholly fixed on.  Chrys. 
Could I gain  
The freedom of access, I would present him  
With this petition. Will your highness please, A paper delivered.  
To look upon it. You will soon find there  
What my intents, and hopes are. Enter Theod.  Gratianus. 
Hal 'tis he.  Pul. 
Stand close,  
And give way to his passions, 'tis not safe  
To stop them in their violent course, before  
They have spent themselves.  Theod. 
I play the fool, and am  
Unequal to myself, delinquents are  
To suffer, not the innocent. I have done  
Nothing, which will not hold weight in the scale  
Of my impartial justice: neither feel  
The worm of conscience, upbraiding me  
For one black deed of tyranny; wherefore then  
Should I torment myself? great julius would not  
Rest satisfied that his wife was free from fact,  
But only for suspicion of a crime  
S'ud a divorce, nor was this Roman rigour  
Censured as cruel, and still the wise Italian,  
That knows the honour of his family,  
Depends upon the purity of his bed  
For a kiss, nay wanton look, will plough up mischief,  
And sow the seeds of his revenge in blood.  
And shall I to whose power the law's a servant,  
That stand accountable to none, for what  
My will calls an offence, being compelled,  
And on such grounds to raise an Altar to  
My anger, though I grant 'tis cemented  
With a loose strumpets and adulterers gore,  
Repent the justice of my fury? no.  
I should not: yet still my excess of love  
Fed high in the remembrance of her choice  
And sweet embraces, would persuade me that  
Connivance, or remission of her fault,  
Made warrantable by her true submission  
For her offence, might be excusable,  
Did not the cruelty of my wounded honour  
With an open mouth deny it.  Pulch. 
I approve of  
Your good intention, and I hope 'twill prosper.  
He now seems calm. Let us upon our knees  
Encompass him. Most royal Sir,  Flacc. 
Sweet brother.  Arc. 
As you are our Sovereign, by the ties of nature  
You are bound to be a Father in your care  
To us poor Orphans.  Timant. 
Show compassion Sir,  
Unto yourself.  Grat. 
The majesty of your fortune  
Should fly above the reach of grief.  Chrys. 
And 'tis  
Impaired, if you yield to it.  Theod. 
Wherefore pay you  
This adoration to a sinful creature?  
I am flesh, and blood as you are, sensible  
Of heat, and cold, as much a slave unto  
The tyranny of my passions, as the meanest  
Of my poor subjects the proud attributes  
(By oiled tongued flattery imposed upon us)  
As sacred, glorious, high, invincible,  
The deputy of heaven, and in that  
Omnipotent, with all false titles else  
Coined to abuse our frailty, though compounded,  
And by the breath of Sycophants applied,  
Cure not the least fit of an ague in us.  
we may give poor men riches; confer honours  
On undeservers; raise, or ruin such  
As are beneath us, and with this puffed up,  
Ambition would persuade us to forget  
That we are men: but he that sits above us,  
And to whom, at our utmost rate, we are  
But pageant properties, derides our weakness.  
In me to whom you kneel, 'tis most apparent.  
Can I call back yesterday, with all their aids  
That bow unto my sceptre? or restore  
My mind to that tranquillity, and peace  
It then enjoyed? can it make Eudoxia chaste?  
Or vile Paulinus honest?  Pul. 
If I might  
Without offence, deliver my opinion,  Theod. 
What would you say?  Pul. 
That on my soul the Empress  
Is innocent.  Chrys. 
The good Paulinus guiltless.  Grat. 
And this should yield you comfort.  Theod. 
In being guilty  
Of an offence far, far transcending that  
They stand condemned for. Call you this a comfort?  
Suppose it could be true? a corrosive rather,  
Not to eat out dead flesh, but putrify  
What yet is sowed. was murder ever held  
A cure for jealousy? or the crying blood  
Of innocence, a balm to take away  
Her festering anguish? as you do desire  
I should not do a justice on myself,  
Add to the proofs by which Paulinus fell,  
And not take from 'em, in your charity  
Sooner believe that they were false, than I  
Unrighteous in my judgement? subjects' lives  
Are not their Princes tennis-balls to be banded  
In sport away, all that I can endure  
For them, if they were guilty, is an atom  
To the mountain of affliction, I pulled on me,  
Should they prove innocent.  Chrys. 
For your Majesty's peace  
I more than hope they were not; the false oath  
took by the Empress, and for which she can  
Plead no excuse, convicted her, and yields  
A sure defence for your suspicion of her.  
And yet to be resolved, since strong doubts are  
More grievous for the most part, than to know  
A certain loss.  Theod. 
'Tis true Chrysapius,  
Were there a possible means.  Chrys. 
'Tis offered to you,  
If you please to embrace it. Some few minutes  
Make truce with passion, and but read, and follow  
What's there projected, you shall find a key,  
Will make your entrance easy to discover  
Her secret thoughts, and then, as in your wisdom  
You shall think fit, you may determine of her,  
And rest confirmed, whether Paulinus died  
A villain or a Martyr.  Theod. 
It may do,  
Nay sure it must, yet howsoever it fall,  
I am most wretched which way in my wishes,  
I should fashion the event, I am so distracted  
I cannot yet resolve of follow me;  
Though in my name, all names are comprehended.  
I must have witness, in what degree  
I have done wrong, or suffered,  Pulch. 
Hope the best Sir. Exeunt.   

Act. 5. Scaena 3.  A sad song. Athenais in sack cloth. Her loose hair. Athen. 

WHY art thou slow, thou rest of trouble, Death,  
To stop a wretch's breath?  
That calls on thee, and offers her sad heart  
A prey unto thy dart.  
I am nor young, nor fair, be therefore bold,  
Sorrow hath made me old,  
Deformed, and wrinkled, all that I can crave,  
Is quiet in my grave.  
Such as live happy, hold long life a jewel,  
But to me thou art cruel:  
If thou end not my tedious misery,  
And I soon cease to be.  
Strike, and strike home then, pity unto me  
In one short hour's delay is tyranny.   

Thus like a dying Swan, to a sad tune  
I sing my own dirge, would a requiem follow  
Which in my penitence, I despair not of,  
This brittle glass of life, already broken  
With misery, the long and quiet sleep  
Of death would be most welcome, yet before  
we end our pilgrimage, 'tis fit that we  
Should leave corruption, and foul sins behind us.  
But with washed feet, and hands, the Heathens dare not  
Enter their profane temples; and for me  
To hope my passage to eternity  
Can be made easy till I have shaken of  
The burden of my sins in free confession,  
Aided with sorrow, and repentance for 'em,  
Is against reason. 'Tis not laying by  
My royal ornaments, or putting on  
This garment of humility, and contrition.  
The throwing dust, and ashes on my head;  
Long fasts to tame my proud flesh, that can make  
Atonement for my soul, that must be humbled,  
All outward signs of penitence, else are useless.  
Chrysapius did assure me, he would bring me  
A holy man, from whom (having discovered  
My secret crying sins) I might receive  
Full absolution, and he keeps his word.  
Welcome most reverend Sir, upon my knees  
I entertain you.   Enter Theodosius, like a friar with Chrysapius. Theod. 
Noble Sir forbear,  
The place, the sacred office that I come for,  
Commands all privacy. My penitent daughter,  
be careful, as you wish remission from me,  
That in confession of your sins, you hide not  
One crime, whose ponderous weight, when you would make  
Your flights above the firmament, that may sink you.  
A foolish modesty in concealing aught  
Is now far worse than impudence to profess,  
And justify your guilt, be therefore free  
So may the gates of mercy open to you.  Athenais. 
First then, I ask a pardon, for my being  
Ingrateful to heaven's bounty.  Theod. 
A good entrance.  Ath. 
Greatness comes from above, and I raised to it  
From a low condition, sinfully forgot  
From whence it came, and looking on myself  
In the false glass of flattery, I received it  
As a debt due to my beauty, not a gift  
Or favour from the Emperor.  Theod. 
'Twas not well.  Ath. 
Pride waited on unthankfulness, and no more  
Remembering the compassion of the Princess,  
And the means she used to make me what I was,  
Contested with her, and with sore eyes seeing  
Her greater light, as it dimmed mine, I practised  
To have it quite put out.  Theod. 
A great offence,  
But on repentance not unpardonable.  
Forward▪  Athenais. 
O Father, what I now must utter,  
I fear in the delivery will destroy me,  
Before you have absolved me.  Theod. 
Heaven is gracious.  
Out with it.  Athenais. 
Heaven commands us to tell truth.  
Yet I most sinful wretch, forswore myself.  Theod. 
On what occasion?  Ath. 
Quite forgetting that  
An innocent truth can never stand in need  
Of a guilty lie, being on the sudden asked  
By the Emperor my husband, for an Apple  
Presented by him, I swore I had eaten it,  
When my grieved conscience too well knows, I sent it  
To comfort sick Paulinus, being a man,  
I truly loved and favoured.  Theod. 
A cold sweat,  
Like the juice of Hemlock baths me. aside.  Ath. 
And from this  
A furious jealousy getting possession  
Of the good emperor's heart, in his rage he doomed  
The innocent Lord to die, my perjury  
The fatal cause of murder.  Theod. 
Take heed daughter,  
You niggle not with your conscience, and religion,  
In styling him an innocent from your fear,  
And shame to accuse yourself. The Emperor  
Had many spies upon you, saw such graces,  
Which virtue could not warrant, showered upon him;  
Glances in public, and more liberal favours  
In your private chamber meetings, making way  
For foul adultery; nor could he be  
But sensible of the compact passed between you,  
To the ruin of his honour.  Ath. 
Hear me Father,  
I looked for comfort, but in this you come  
To add to my afflictions.  Theod. 
Cause not you  
Your own damnation, in concealing that  
Which may in your discovery find forgiveness.  
Open your eyes, set heaven, or hell before you.  
In the revealing of the truth, you shall  
Prepare a palace for your soul to dwell in,  
Stored with celestial blessings; whereas if  
You palliate your crime, and dare beyond  
Playing with lightning, in concealing it,  
Expect a dreadful dungeon, filled with horror,  
And never-ending torments.  Ath. 
May they fall  
Eternally upon me, and increase,  
When that which we call time hath lost its name;  
May lightning cleave the centre of the earth,  
And I sink quick, before you have absolved me,  
Into the bottomless Abyss, I fever  
In one unchaste desire, nay in a thought  
I wronged the honour of the emperor's bed.  
I do deserve, I grant, more than I suffer  
In that my fervour, and desire to please him,  
In my holy meditations pressed upon me,  
And would not be kept out, now to dissemble  
(When I shall suddenly be insensible,  
Of what the world speaks of me) were mere madness:  
And though you are incredulous, I presume,  
If as I kneel now, my eyes swollen with tears,  
My hands heaved up thus, my stretched heartstrings ready  
To break asunder, my incensed Lord  
(His storm of jealousy blown over) should hear me,  
He would believe I lied not.  Theod. 
Rise, and see him, discovers himself.  
On his knees with joy affirm it.  Ath. 
Can this be?  Theod. 
My sisters, and the rest there, all bear witness.  Enter Pulcheria, Arcadia. Flaccilla. Chrysapius. Gratianus. Timantus. 
In freeing this incomparable Lady  
From the suspicion of guilt, I do  
Accuse myself, and willingly submit  
To any penance, she in justice shall  
Please to impose upon me.  Ath. 
Royal Sir, your ill opinion of me 's soon forgiven.  Pul. 
But how you can make satisfaction to  
The poor Paulinus, he being dead, in reason  
You must conclude impossible.  Theod. 
And in that  
I am most miserable; the Ocean  
Of joy, which in your innocence flowed high to me,  
ebbs in the thought of my unjust command,  
By which he died. O Philanax (as thy name  
Interpreted speaks thee) thou hast ever been  
A lover of the King, and thy whole life  
Can witness thy obedience to my will,  
In putting that in execution, which  
Was trusted to thee, say but yet this once  
Thou hast not done what rashly I commanded  
And that Paulinus lives, and thy reward  
For not performing that which I enjoined thee,  
Shall centuple whatever yet thy duty,  
Or merit challenged from me.  Phil. 
'Tis too late Sir.  
he's dead, and when you know he was unable  
To wrong you, in the way that you suspected,  
You'll wish it had been otherwise.  Theod. 
Unable?  Phil. 
I am sure he was an Eunuch, and might safely  
Lie by a virgin's side, at four years made one,  
Though to hold grace with Ladies he concealed it.  
The circumstances, and the manner how  
You may hear at better leisure.  Theod. 
How! an Eunuch?  
The more the proofs are, that are brought to clear thee,  
My best Eudoxia, the more my sorrows.  Athen. 
That I am innocent?  Theod. 
That I am guilty  
Of murder, my Eudoxia. I will build  
A glorious monument to his memory,  
And for my punishment live, and die upon it,  
And never more converse with men.  Enter Paulinus. Paulin. 
Live long Sir,  
May I do so to serve you. and if that  
I live does not displease you, you owe for it  
To this good Lord.  Theod. 
myself, and all that's mine.  Philan. 
Your pardon is a payment.  Theod. 
I am raped  
With joy beyond myself. Now my Eudoxia  
My jealousy puffed away thus, in this breath  
I scent the natural sweetness. Kisses her.  Arcad. 
Sacred Sir,  
I am happy to behold this, and presume,  
Now you are pleased, to move a suit, in which  
My sister is joined with me.  Theod. 
Prithee speak it,  
For I have vowed to hear before I grant,  
I thank your good instructions.  Arc. 
'Tis but this Sir,  
we have observed the falling out, and in,  
Between the husband and the wise shows rarely,  
Their jars, and reconcilements strangely take us.  Flac. 
Anger and jealousy that conclude in kisses  
Is a sweet war in sooth.  Arc. 
we therefore, brother  
Most humbly beg you would provide us husbands  
That we may taste the pleasure of't.  Flac. 
And with speed Sir,  
For so your favour's doubled.  Theod. 
Take my word,  
I will with all convenience; and not blush  
Hereafter to be guided by your counsels.  
I will deserve your pardon. Philanax  
Shall be remembered, and magnificent bounties  
Fall on Chrysapius. My grace on all.  
Let Cleon be delivered and rewarded,  
My grace on all, which as I lent to you,  
Return your vows to heaven, that it may please  
(As it is gracious) to quench in me  
All future sparks of burning jealousy.   
THE END.   

epilogue.  
we have reason to be doubtful, whether he  
On whom (forced to it by necessity)  
The maker did confer his emperor's part  
Hath given you satisfaction, in his art  
Of action and delivery; 'tis sure truth  
The burden was too heavy for his youth  
To undergo: but in his will we know  
He was not wanting, and shall ever owe  
With, his, our service, if your favours deign  
To give him strength, hereafter to sustain  
A greater weight. It is your grace that can  
In your allowance of this write him man  
Before his time, which if you please to do  
You make the Player, and the Poet too.