THE UNNATURAL COMBAT.  
A Tragedy.  
The Scene Marseilles.  
Written BY PHILIP MASSINGER.  
As it was presented by the king's majesty's Servants at the GLOBE.  
LONDON, Printed by E. G. for JOHN WATERSON, and are to be sold at his shop, at the sign of the Crown, in S. Paul's Churchyard. 1639.   

The persons presented.  

BEaufort senior, Governor of Marseilles.  
Beaufort junior, his son.  
Malefort senior, Admiral of Marseilles.  
Malefort junior, his son.  
Chamont  
Montagne 

Assistants to the Governor.  
Lanour    
Montrevile, a pretended friend to Malefort senior.  
Belgarde, a poor Captain.  
Three Sea Captains of the Navy of Malefort junior.  
Servants.  
soldiers.  
Theocrine, daughter to Malefort senior.  
Two waiting women.  
Usher. Page.  
Bawd. Two Wenches.    

To my much Honoured Friend, ANTHONY SENTLIGER, Of Oukham in Kent, Esquire.  
Sir,  
THat the Patronage of trifles, in this kind, hath long since rendered Dedications, and Inscriptions obsolete, and out of fashion, I perfectly understand, and cannot but ingenuously confess, that I walking in the same path, may be truly argued by you of weakness, or wilful error: but the reasons and defences, for the tender of my service this way to you, are so just, that I cannot (in my thankfulness for so many favours received) but be ambitious to publish them. Your noble Father, Sir Warham Sentliger (whose remarkable virtues must be ever remembered) being, while he lived, a master, for his pleasure, in Poetry, feared not to hold converse with divers, whose necessitous fortunes made it their profession, among which, by the clemency of his judgement, I was not in the last place admitted. You (the Heir of his honour and inherited his good inclinations to men of my poor quality, of which I cannot give any ampler testimony than by my free and glad profession of it to the world. Besides, (and it was not the least encouragement to me) many of eminence and the best of such, who disdained not to take notice of me, have not thought themselves disparaged, I dare not say honoured, to be celebrated the Patrons of my humble studies. In the first file of which, I am confident, you shall have no cause to blush, to find your Name written. I present you with this old Tragedy, without Prologue, or Epilogue, it being composed in a time (and that too, peradventure, as knowing as this) when such by ornaments, were not advanced above the fabric of the whole work. Accept it I beseech you, as it is, and continue you favour to the Author.  Your Servant PHILIP MASSINGER.  

THE UNNATURAL COMBAT.  

Actus primus,  

Scaena prima.  Montrevile, Theocrine, Usher, Page, waiting Women. MONTREVILE. 
NOW to be modest Madam, when you are  
A suitor for your father, would appear,  
Courser than boldness you a while must part  
with soft silence, and the blushings of a virgin,  
Though I must grant (did not this cause command  
it) They are rich jewels you have ever worn  
To all men's admiration, in this age,  
If by our own forced importunity,  
Or others' purchased intercession, or  
Corrupting bribes we can make our approaches  
To justice guarded, from us by stern power,  
We bless the means, and industry.  Vsh. 
Here's music  
In this bag shall wake her, though she had drunk Opium,  
Or eaten Mandrakes, let commanders talk  
Of cannons to make breaches, give but fire  
To this petard, it shall blow open Madam  
The iron doors of a judge, and make you entrance,  
When they (let them do what they can) with all  
Their mines, their culverins, and Basilisco's  
Shall cool their feet without, this being the picklock  
That never fails.  Mon. 
'tis true, gold can do much,  
But beauty more, were I the governor,  
Though the Admiral your father stood convicted  
Of what he's only doubted, half a dozen  
Of sweet close kisses from these cherry lips,  
With some short active conference in private,  
Should sign his general pardon.  Theo. 
These light words sir  
Do ill become the weight of my sad fortune  
And I much wonder you that do profess  
yourself to be my father's bosom friend,  
Can raise mirth from his misery.  Mon. 
You mistake me,  
I share in his calamity, and only  
Deliver my thoughts freely, what I should do  
For such a rare petitioner, and if  
You'll follow the directions, I prescribe  
With my best judgement I'll mark out the way  
For his enlargement.  Theo. 
With all real joy,  
I shall put what you counsel into act,  
Provided it be honest.  Mon. 
Honesty  
In a fair she client (trust to my experience)  
Seldom or never prospers, the world's wicked.  
we are men, not saints sweet Lady, you must practise  
The manners of the time, if you intend  
To have favour from it, do not deceive yourself  
By building too much on the false foundations  
Of chastity and virtue, bid your waiters  
Stand farther of, and I'll come nearer to you.  2. Wom. 
Some wicked counsel on my life.  2. Wom. 
ne'er doubt it,  
If it proceed from him.  Page. 
I wonder that  
My Lord so much affects him.  Ush. 
Thou art a child and dost not understand on what strong bases this friendship's raised between this Montrevile and our Lord Monsieur. Malefort, but I'll teach thee from thy years they have been joint purchasers, in furs, & waterworks, and trucked together.  Page. 
In fire and water works,  Vsh. 
Commodity's boy  
Which you may know hereafter.  Page. 
And deal in'em  
When the trade has given you over, as appears (by the increase of your high forehead.  Vsh. 
here's a crack,  
I think they suck this knowledge in their milk.  Page. 
I had had an ignorant nurse else I have tide sir  
My Lady's garter, and can guess.  Ush. 
Peace infant,  Theocrine falls off. 
Tales out a school take heed you will be breeched else.  1. Wom. 
My Lady's colour changes.  2. Wom. 
She falls off too.  Theo. 
You are a naughty man, indeed you are,  
And I will sooner perish with my father  
Then at this price redeem him.  Mon. 
Take your own way,  
Your modest legal way, 'tis not your veil  
Nor mourning habit, nor these creatures taught  
To howl, and cry, when you begin to whimper,  
Nor following my Lords coach in the dirt,  
Nor that with you rely upon, a bribe  
Will do it when there's something he likes better.  
These courses in an old crone of three score,  
That had seven years together tired the court  
With tedious petitions and clamours,  
For the recovery of a strangling husband,  
To pay forsooth the duties of one to her,  
But for a Lady of your tempting beauties,  
Your youth and ravishing features to hope only  
In such a suit as this is, to gain favour  
Without exchange of courtesy, you conceive me,  Enter Beaufort and Belgarde. 
Were madness at the height, here's brave young Beaufort  
The meteor of Marseilles, one that holds  
The governor his father's will and power  
In more awe than his own, come, come advance,  
Present your bag crammed with crowns of the sun,  
Do you think he cares for money? he loves pleasure,  
Burn your petition, burn it, he dotes on you,  
Upon my knowledge, to his cabinet, do  
And he will point you out a certain course,  
Be the cause right or wrong to have your father  
Released with much facility.  Exit Mentrevile. Theo. 
Do you hear?  
Take a pander with you.  Iu. Beauf. 
I tell thee there is neither  
Employment yet nor money.  Belg. 
I have commanded  
And spent my own means in my country's service,  
In hope to raise a fortune.  Iu. Beauf. 
Many have hoped so,  
But hopes prove seldom certainties with soldiers.  Belg. 
If no preferment, let me but receive  
My pay that is behind, to set me up  
A tavern, or a vaulting house; while men love  
Or drunkenness, or lechery, they'll ne'er fail me:  
Shall I have that?  Iu. Beauf. 
As our prizes are brought in,  
Till then you must be patient.  Belg. 
In the mean time,  
How shall do for clothes?  Iu. Beauf. 
As most captains do  
Philosopher like, carry all you have about you.  Belg. 
But how shall I do to satisfy Calon monsieur,  
There lies the doubt.  Iu. Beauf. 
That's easily decided,  
My father's tables free for any man  
That hath borne arms.  Belg. 
And there's good store of meat?  Iu. Beauf. 
Never fear that.  Belg. 
I'll seek no other ordinary then,  
But be his daily guest without invitement,  
And if my stomach hold, I'll feed so heartily  
As he shall pay me suddenly to be quit of me.  Iu. Beauf. 
'tis she.  Belg. 
And further.  Iu. Beauf. 
Away you are troublesome,  
Designs of more weight.  Belg. 
Ha fair Theocrine,  
Nay if a velvet petticoat move in the front  
Buff jerkins must to the rear, I know my manners  
This is indeed great business, m ne a gewgaw  
I may dance attendance, this must be dispatched,  
And suddenly, or all will go to wrack.  Exit. 
Charge her home in the flank my Lord, nay I am gone sir, Belgarde  Iu. Beauf. 
Nay pray you Madam rise, or I'll kneel with you.  Page. 
I would bring you on your knees, were I a woman.  Iu. Beauf. 
What is it can deserve so poor a name,  
As a suit to me? this more than mortal form  
Was fashioned to command and not entreat,  
Your will but known is served.  Theo. 
Great Sir, my father  
My brave deserving father, but that sorrow  
Forbids the use of speech.  Iu. Beauf. 
I understand you,  
Without the aids of those interpreters  
That fall from your fair eyes, I know you labour,  
the liberty of your father, at the least  
an equal hearing to acquit himself:  
and 'tis not to endear my service to you,  
though I must add and pray you with patience hear it,  
'tis hard to be effected, in respect  
the State's incensed against him: all presuming  
the world of outrages his impious son,  
turned worse than Pirate in his cruelties  
expressed to this poor Country, could not be  
with such ease put in execution, if  
your father (of late our great Admiral)  
held not or correspondency, or connived  
at his proceedings.  Theoc. 
And must he then suffer,  
his cause unheard?  Beauf. jun. 
As yet it is resolved so,  
in their determination. But suppose,  
for I would nourish hope, not kill it in you,  
I should divert the torrent of their purpose,  
and render them that are implacable,  
impartial Judges, and not swayed with spleen:  
will you, I dare not say in recompense,  
for that includes a debt you cannot owe me,  
but in your liberal bounty, in my suit  
to you be gracious?  Theoc. 
You entreat of me, Sir,  
what I should offer to you, with confession  
that you much undervalue your own worth,  
should you receive me. Since there come with you  
not lustful fires, but fair and lawful flames.  
but I must be excused, ''tis now no time  
for me to think of hymeneal joys.  
Can he (and pray you, Sir, consider it)  
that gave me life, and faculties to love,  
be, as he is now ready to be devoured  
by ravenous wolves, and at that instant, I  
but entertain a thought of those delights.  
in which perhaps my ardour meets with your?  
duty and piety forbid it, Sir.  Beauf. jun. 
But this effected, and your father free,  
what is your answer?  Theoc. 
Every minute to me  
will be a tedious age till our embraces  
are warrantable to the world.  Beauf. jun. 
I urge no more, confirm it with a kiss.  Theoc. 
I doubly feel it.  Vsher. 
This would do better a-bed, the business ended,  
they are the lovingest Couple.  Enter Beaufort senior, the Governor Montaigne, Chamont, Lanour. Beauf. jun. 
Here comes my father  
with the Council of war, deliver your petition,  
and leave the rest to me.  Beauf. sen. 
I am sorry, Lady,  
your father's guilt compels your innocence  
to ask what I in justice must deny.  Beauf. jun. 
For my sake, Sir, pray you receive, and read it.  Beauf. sen. 
Thou foolish boy, I can deny thee nothing.  Beauf. jun. 
Thus far we are happy. Madam quit the place,  
you shall hear how we succeed.  Theoc. 
Goodness reward you.  Exeunt Theocrine, Usher, Page, Women. Mont. 
It is apparent, and we stay too long  
to censure Malefort as he deserves.  Cham. 
There is no colour of reason that makes for him:  
had he discharged the trust committed to him,  
with that experience and fidelity  
he practised heretofore, it could not be  
our Navy should be blocked up, and in our sight  
our goods made prize, our Sailors sold for slaves,  
by his prodigious issue.  Lan. 
I much grieve,  
after so many brave and high achievements,  
he should in one ill forfeit all the good  
he ever did his Country.  Beauf. sen. 
Well, 'tis granted.  Beauf. jun. 
I humbly thank you, Sir.  Beauf sen. 
He shall have hearing,  
his irons too struck off, bring him before us;  
but seek no further favour.  Beauf. jun. 
Sir, I dare not.  Exit Beauf. jun. Beauf. sen. 
Monsieur Chamont, Montaigne, Lanour, assistants  
by a Commission from the most Christian King  
in punishing, or freeing Malefort  
our late great Admiral: though I know you need not  
instructions from me, how to dispose of  
yourselves in this man's trial (that exacts  
your clearest judgements) give me leave with favour  
to offer my opinion: we are to hear him,  
a little looking back on his fair actions,  
loyal, and true demeanour, not as now  
by the general voice, already he's condemned.  
But if we find (as most believe) he hath held  
intelligence with his accursed son,  
fall off from all allegiance, and turned  
(but for what cause we know not) the most bloody  
and fatal enemy, this Country ever  
repented to have brought forth, all compassion  
of what he was, or may be, if now pardoned,  
we sit engaged to censure him with all  
extremity and rigour.  Cha. 
Your Lordship shows us  
a path which we will tread in.  Lan. 
He that leaves  
to follow, as you lead, will lose himself.  Mont. 
I'll not be singular.  Enter Beaufort junior, Montreville, Malefort sen. Belgarde, Officers. Beauf. sen. 
He comes, but with  
a strange distracted look.  Mal. sen. 
Live I once more  
to see these hands and arms free? these, that often  
In the most dreadful horror of a fight,  
Have been as seamarks to teach such as were  
Seconds in my attempts, to steer between  
The rocks of too much dating, and pale fear,  
To reach the Port of victory? When my sword,  
Advanced thus, to my enemies appeared  
A hairy comet, threatening death and ruin  
To such as durst behold it. These the legs  
That when our ship were grappled, carried me  
With such swift motion from deck to deck,  
As they that saw it, with amazement cried;  
He does not run, but flies.  Montre 
He still retains  
The greatness of his spirit.  Mal. sen. 
Now cramped with irons,  
Hunger, and could, they hardly do support me.  
But I forget myself. O my good Lords  
That sit there as my judges to determine  
The life and death of Malefort, where are now  
Those shouts, those cheerful looks, those loud applauses  
With which when I returned loaden with spoil  
You entertained your Admiral? all's forgotten,  
And I stand here to give account for that  
Of which I am as free, and innocent  
As he that never saw the eyes of him,  
for whom I stand suspected.  Beauf. sen. 
Monsieur Malefort  
let not your passion so far transport you  
As to believe from any private malice,  
Or envy to your person you are questioned,  
for do the suppositions want weight,  
That do invite us to a strong assurance,  
Your son.  Mal. sen. 
My shame.  Beauf. sen. 
Pray you hear with patience, ever  
Without assistance, or sure aids from you,  
Could with the pirates of Argers and Tunis,  
e'en those that you had almost twice defeated,  
acquire such credit, as with them to be  
made absolute commander? (pray you observe me)  
if there had not some contract passed between you,  
that when occasion served you would join with 'em  
to the ruin of Marseilles?  Mont. 
More, what urged  
your son to turn Apostate?  Cham. 
Had he from  
the State, or Governor, the least neglect  
which envy could interpret for a wrong?  Lan. 
Or if you slept not in your charge, how could  
so many ships as do infest our Coast  
and have in our own Harbour shut our Navy  
come in unfought with?  Beauf. jun. 
They put him hardly to it.  Mal. sen. 
My Lords, with as much brevity as I can,  
I'll answer each particular objection  
with which you charge me. The main ground, on which  
you raise the building of your accusation,  
hath reference to my son should I now curse him,  
or wish in th' agony of my troubled soul,  
lightning had found him in his mother's womb  
you'll say is from the purpose, and I therefore  
betake him to the Devil, and so leaveth him  
Did never loyal father but myself  
beget a treacherous issue? was't in me  
with as much ease to fashion up his mind,  
as in his generation to form,  
the organs to his body? must it follow  
because that he is impious, I am false?  
I would not boast my actions, yet 'tis lawful  
to upbraid my benefits to unthankful men.  
Who sunk the Turkish galleys in the null.  
but Malefort? who rescued the French Merchants,  
when they were boarded, and stowed under hatches  
by the Pirates of Argiers every minute  
they did expect to be chained to the oar,  
but your now doubted Admiral? than you filled  
the air with shouts of joy, and did proclaim  
when hope had left them, and grim, looked Despair  
hovered with sail-stretch wings over their heads,  
to me, as to the Neptune of the Sea,  
they owed the restitution of their goods,  
their lives, their liberties. O can it then  
be probable, my Lords, that he that never  
became the master of a Pirate ship,  
but at the main yard hung the Captain up,  
and caused the rest to be thrown over board,  
should after all these proofs of deadly hate,  
so oft expressed against'em, entertain  
a thought of quarter with'em, but much less  
(to the perpetual ruin of my glories)  
to join with them to lift a wicked arm  
against my mother Country, this Marseilles,  
which with my prodigal expense of blood  
I have so oft protected.  Beauf. sen. 
What you have done  
is granted, and applauded, but yet know  
this glorious relation of your actions  
must not so blind our judgements, as to suffer  
this most unnatural crime you stand accused of,  
to pass unquestioned.  Cham. 
No, you must produce  
reasons of more validity, and weight,  
to plead in your defence, or we shall hardly  
conclude you innocent.  Mont. 
The large volume of  
your former worthy deeds, with your experience,  
both what, and when to do, but makes against you.  Lan. 
For had your care and courage been the same  
as heretofore, the dangers we are plunged in  
had been with ease prevented.  Mal. sen. 
What have I  
Omitted in the power of flesh, and blood,  
Even in the birth to strangle the designs  
Of this hell-bred wolf my son? alas my Lords,  
I am no god, nor like him could foresee  
His cruel thoughts, and cursed purposes,  
Nor would the sun at my command forbear  
To make his progress to the other world,  
Affording to us one continued light.  
Nor could my breath dispress those foggy mists  
Covered with which, and darkness of the night,  
Their navy undiscerned, without resistance  
Beset our harbour? make not that my fault,  
Which you in justice must ascribe to fortune.  
But if that nor my former acts, nor what  
I have delivered, can prevail with you  
To make good my integrity and truth:  
Rip up this bosom; and pluck out the heart  
That hath been ever loyal.  Beauf sen. 
How! a trumpet!  
inquire the cause.  A trumpet within. Montreule goes off. Mal. 
Thou searcher of men's hearts,  
And sure defender of the innocent,  
(My other crying sins, a while not looked on)  
If I in this am guilty strike the dead,  
Or by some unexpected means confirm,  
I am accused unjustly.  Enter Montrevile and a sea Captains Beauf. sen. 
Speak the motives  
That brings thee hither.  Capt. 
From our Admiral thus,  
He does salute you fairly, and desires  
It may be understood no public hate,  
Hath brought him to Marseilles, nor seeks he  
The ruin of his country, but aims only  
To wreak a private wrong; and if from you  
He may have leave, and liberty to decide it  
In a single combat, he'll give up good pledges  
If he fall in the trial of his right,  
we shall weigh anchor and no more molest  
This town with hostile arms.  Beauf. sen. 
Speak to the man,  
(If in this presence he appear to you)  
To whom you bring this challenge.  Cap. 
'tis to you;  Beauf. sen. 
His father!  Montre. 
Can it be!  Beauf. jun. 
Strange and prodigious.  Mal. sen. 
Thou seest I stand unmoved were thy voice thunder  
It should not shake me, say what would the viper?  Cap. 
The reverence a father's name may challenge,  
And duty of a son, no more remembered  
He does defy thee to the death.  Mal. sen. 
Go on.  Cap. 
And with his sword well prove it on thy head,  
Thou art a murderer, an Atheist  
And that all attributes of men turned furies  
Cannot express thee, this he will make good  
If thou dar'st give him meeting.  Mal. sen. 
Dare I live,  
Dare I when mountains of my sins over whelm me  
At my last gasp ask for mercy? how I bless  
Thy coming Captain, never man to me  
Arrived so opportunely; and thy message,  
However it may seem to threaten death,  
Does yield to me a second life in curing  
My wounded honour, stand I yet suspected  
As a confederate with this enemy,  
Whom of all men, against all ties of nature  
He marks out for destruction? you are just  
Immortal powers, and in this merciful,  
And it takes from any sorrow, and my shame  
For being the father to so bad a son,  
In that you are pleased to offer up the monster  
To my correction. Blush and repent  
As you are bound my honourable Lords  
Your ill opinions of me, not great Brutus  
The father of the Roman liberty  
With more assured constancy beheld  
His traitor sons, for labouring to call home  
The banished Tarquins, scourged with rods to death,  
Than I will show when I take back the life  
This prodigy of mankind received from me.  Beauf. sen. 
We are sorry Monsieur Malefort for our error  
And are much taken with your resolution  
But the disparity of years, and strength  
Between you, and your son, duly considered  
We would not so expose you  Mal. sen. 
Then you kill me  
Under pretence to save me. O my Lords  
As you love honour, and a wronged man's fame  
Deny me not this fair, and noble means  
To make me right again to all the world.  
Should any other but myself be chosen  
To punish this Apostata with death,  
You rob a wretched father of a justice  
That to all after times will be recorded,  
I wish his strength were centuple, his skill equal  
To my experience, that in his fall  
He may not shame my victory, I feel  
The powers, and spirits of twenty strong men in me.  
Were he with wild fire circled, I undaunted  
Would make way to him, as you do affect Sir  
My daughter Theocrine, as you are  
My true and ancient friend, as thou art valiant,  
And as all love a soldier, second me  They all sue to the governor. 
In this my just petition, in your looks  
I see a grant my Lord.  Beauf. sen. 
You shall o'erbear me,  
And since you are so confident in your cause,  
Prepare you for the combat.  Mal. sen. 
With more joy  
Than yet I ever tasted, by the next sun,  
The disobedient rebel shall hear from me  
And so return in safety, my good Lords,  
To all my service, I will die or purchase  
Rest to Marseilles, nor can I make doubt,  
But his impiety is a potent charm,  
To edge my sword and add strength to my arm.  Exeunt.   

Actus secundi  

Scaena prima.  Enter three Sea Captains. 2. captain. 
HE did accept the challenge then?  1. Cap. 
Nay more,  
Was over joyed in't; and as it had been  
A fair invitement to a solemn feast,  
And not a combat to conclude with death,  
He cheerfully embraced it.  3. Cap. 
Are the articles  
Signed to on both parts?  1. Cap. 
At the father's suit,  
With much unwillingness the governor  
Consented to'em.  2. Cap. 
You are inward with  
Our Admiral; could you yet never learn  
What the nature of the quarrel is, that renders  
The son, more than incensed, implacable  
Against the father?  1. Cap. 
Never; yet I have  
As far as manners would give warrant to it,  
With my best curiousness of care observed him,  
I have sate with him in his cabin a day together,  
Yet not a syllable exchanged between us,  
Sigh he did often, as if inward grief,  
And melancholy at that instant would  
Choke up his vital spirits, and now and then  
A tear, or two, as in derision of  
The toughness of his rugged temper would  
Fall on his hallow cheeks, which but once felt,  
A sudden flash of fury did dry up,  
And laying then his hand upon his sword,  
He would murmur, but yes so as I oft hard him,  
We shall meet cruel father, yet we shall,  
When I'll exact for every womanish drop  
Of sorrow from these eyes, a strict account  
Of much more from thy heart.  2. Cap. 
'tis wondrous strange.  3. Cap. 
And past my apprehension.  1. Cap. 
Yet what makes  
The miracle greater, when from the main top  
A sail's descried, all thoughts that do concern  
Himself laid by, no Lion pinched with hunger,  
Rouses himself more fiercely from his den,  
Than he comes on the deck, and there how wisely  
He gives directions, and how stout he is  
In his executions, we to admiration,  
Have been eyewitnesses, yet he never minds  
The booty when 'tis made ours, but as if  
The danger, in the purchase of the prey  
Delighted him much more than the reward,  
His will made known he does retire himself  
To his private contemplation, no joy  
Expressed by him for victory,  Enter Malefort junior. 2. Cap. 
Hear he comes  
But with more cheerful looks then ever yet  
I saw him wear.  Mal. jun. 
It was long since resolved on  
Nor must I stagger now, may the cause  
That forces me to this unnatural act,  
Be buried in everlasting silence,  
And I find rest in death, or my revenge,  
To either I stand equal. Pray you Gentlemen  
Be charitable in your censures of me,  
And do not entertain a false belief  
That I am mad, for undertaking that  
Which must be, when effected, still repented.  
It adds to my calamity that I have  
Discourse and reason, and but too well know  
I can nor live, nor end a wretched life,  
But both ways I am impious. Do not therefore  
Ascribe the perturbation of my soul  
To a servile fear of death: I oft have viewed  
All kinds of his inevitable darts,  
Not are they terrible. Were I condemned to leap  
From the cloud-covered brows of a steep rock  
Into the deep; or Curtius-like to fill up,  
For my country's safety and an after name,  
A bottomless abyss, or charge through fire,  
It could not so much shake me, as th' encounter  
Of this days single enemy.  1. Cap. 
If you please, Sir,  
You may shun it, or defer it.  Mal. jun. 
Not for the world:  
Yet two things I entreat you, the first is,  
You'll not inquire the difference between  
myself and him, which as a father once  
I honoured, now my deadliest enemy,  
The last is, if I fall, to bear my body  
Far from this place, and where you please inter it.  
I should say more, but by his sudden coming  
I am cut off.  Enter Beaufort junior, and Montrevile leading in Malefort senior; Belgarde's following with others. Beauf. jun. 
Let me, Sir, have the honour  
To be your second.  Montr. 
With your pardon, Sir,  
I must put in for that, since our tried friendship  
Hath lasted from our infancy.  Belg. 
I have served  
Under your command, and you have seen me fight,  
And handsomely, though I say it, and if now  
At this downright game, I may but hold your cards,  
I'll not pull down the side.  Mal. sen. 
I rest much bound  
To your so noble offers, and I hope  
Shall find your pardon, though I now refuse'em,  
For which I'll yield strong reasons, but as briefly  
As the time will give me leave. For me to borrow  
(That am supposed the weaker) any aid  
From the assistance of my Seconds sword,  
Might write me down in the black list of those,  
That have nor fire, nor spirit of their own;  
But dare, and do, as they derive their courage  
From his example, on whose help and valour  
They wholly do depend. Let this suffice  
In my excuse for that. Now if you please  
On both parts to retire to yonder mount,  
Where you, as in a Roman Theater,  
May see the bloody difference determined,  
Your favours meet my wishes.  Mal. jun. 
'Tis approved of  
By me, and I command you lead the way,  
And leave me to my fortune.  Beauf. jun. 
I would gladly  
Be a spectator (since I am denied  
To be an Actor) of each blow, and thrust,  
And punctually observe'em.  Mal. jun. 
You shall have  
All you desire; for in a word or two  
I must make bold to entertain the time,  
If he give suffrage to it.  Mal. sen. 
Yes, I will,  
I'll hear thee, and then kill thee: nay farewell.  Mal. jun. 
Embrace with love on both sides, and with ys  
Leave deadly hate, and fury.  Mal. sen. 
From this place  
You ne'er shall see both living.  Belg. 
What's past help, is  They embrace on both sides, and take leave severally of the father and son. 
Beyond prevention.  Mal. sen. 
Now we are alone, Sir,  
And thou hast liberty to unload the burden  
Which thou groan'st under. Speak thy griefs.  Mal. jun. 
I shall, Sir;  
But in a perplexed form and method, which  
You only can interpret; would you had not  
A guilty knowledge in your bosom of  
The language which you force me to deliver,  
So I were nothing. As you are my father  
I bend my knee, and uncompelled profess  
My life, and all that's mine, to be your gift;  
And that in a son's duty I stand bound  
To lay this head beneath your feet, and run  
All desperate hazards for your ease and safety.  
But this confessed on my part, I rise up,  
And not as with a father, (all respect,  
Love, fear, and reverence cast off,) but as  
A wicked man I thus expostulate with you.  
Why have you done that which I dare not speak,  
And in the action changed the humble shape  
Of my obedience, to rebellious rage  
And insolent pride? and with shut eyes constrained me  
To run my Bark of honour on a shelf,  
I must not see, nor if I saw it, shun it?  
In my wrongs nature suffers, and looks backward,  
And mankind trembles to see me pursue  
What beasts would fly from. For when I advance  
This sword, as I must do against your head,  
Piety will weep, and filial duty mourn,  
To see their altars which you built up in me,  
In a moment razed and ruined, that you could  
(From my grieved soul I wish it) but produce  
To qualify, not excuse your deed of horror,  
Our seeming reason that I might fix here,  
And move no father.  Mal. sen. 
Have I so far lost  
A father's power, that I must give account  
Of my actions to my son? or must I plead  
As a fearful prisoner at the bar, while he  
That owes his being to me sirs a Judge  
To censure that, which only by myself  
Ought to be questioned? mountains sooner fall  
Beneath their valleys, and the lofty Pine  
Pay homage to the Bramble, or what else is  
Preposterous in nature, ere my tongue  
In one short syllable yields satisfaction  
To any doubt of thine, nay though it were  
A certainty disdaining argument.  
Since though my deeds wore Hell's black livery,  
To thee they should appear triumphal robes,  
Set off with glorious honour, thou being bound  
To see with my eyes, and to hold that reason,  
That takes or birth or fashion from my will.  Mal. jun. 
This sword divides that slavish knot.  Mal. sen. 
It cannot,  
It cannot wretch, and if thou but remember  
From whom thou hadst this spirit, thou dar'st not hope it.  
Who trained thee up in arms but I? Who taught thee  
Men were men only when they durst look down  
With scorn on death and danger, and contemned  
All opposition, till plumed victory  
Had made her constant stand upon their helmets?  
Under my shield thou hast fought as securely  
As the young Eglet, covered with the wings  
Of her fierce Dam, learns how and where to prey.  
All that is manly in thee, I call mine;  
But what is weak and womanish, thine own.  
And what I gave, since thou art proud, ungrateful,  
Presuming to contend with him, to whom  
Submission is due, I will take from thee.  
Look therefore for extremities, and expect not  
I will correct thee as a son, but kill thee  
As a Serpent swollen with poison, who surviving  
A little longer, with infections breath,  
Would render all things near him, like itself  
Contagious. Nay, now my anger's up,  
Ten thousand virgins kneeling at my feet,  
And with one general cry howling for mercy,  
Shall not redeem thee.  Mal. jun. 
Thou incensed Power,  
A while forbear thy thunder, let me have  
No aid in my revenge, if from the grave  
My mother.  Mal. sen. 
Thou shalt never name her more.  Above Beauf. jun. Montr. Belg. the three Sea Capt. Beauf. 
They are at it.  2. Cap. 
That thrust was put strongly home.  Montr. 
But with more strength avoided.  Belg. 
Wellcome in,  
He has drawn blood of him yet, well done old Cock.  1. Cap. 
That was a strange miss.  Beauf. jun. 
That a certain hit.  Belg. 
he's fall'n, the day is ours.  Young Malefort slain. 2. Cap. 
The Admiral's slain.  Montr. 
The father is victorious!  Belg. 
Let us haste  
To gratulate his conquest.  
1. we to mourn  
The fortune of the son.  Beauf. jun. 
With utmost speed  
Acquaint the Governor with the good success,  
That he may entertain to his full merit,  
The father of his country's peace and safety.  They descend. Mal. sen. 
Were a new life hid in each mangled limb,  
I would search, and find it. And howe'er to some  
I may seem cruel, thus to tyrannize  
Upon this senseless flesh, I glory in it.  
That I have power to be unnatural,  
Is my security, die all my fears,  
And waking jealousies, which have so long  
Been my tormentors, there's now no suspicion;  
A fact, which I alone am conscious of,  
Can never be discovered, or the cause  
That called this Duel on. I being above  
All perturbations, nor is it in  
The power of Fate, again to make me wretched.  Enter Beaufort jun. Montrevile. Belgarde, the three Sea Captains. Beauf. jun. 
All honour to the Conqueror.  
Who dares tax  
My friend of treachery now?  Belg. 
I am very glad, Sir,  
You have sped so well. But I must tell you thus much,  
To put you in mind that a low ebb must follow  
Your high swollen tide of happiness, you have purchased this  
hour at a high price.  Mal. sen. 
'Tis Belgarde's,  
Above all estimation, and a little  
To be exalted with it cannot savour  
Of arrogance: that to this arm and sword,  
Marseilles owes the freedom of her fears,  
Or that my loyalty not long since eclipsed,  
Shines now more bright than ever, are not things  
to be lamented. Though indeed they may  
Appear too dearly bought, my falling glories  
Being made up again, and cemented  
With a son's blood. 'Tis true, he was my son  
While he was worthy, but when he shook off  
His duty to me, (which my fond indulgence  
Upon submission might perhaps have pardoned)  
And grew his Counties enemy, I looked on him  
As a Stranger to my family, and a Traitor  
Justly proscribed, and he to be rewarded  
That could bring in his head. I know in this  
That I am censured rugged and austere,  
That will vouchsafe not one sad sigh or tear  
Upon his slaughtered body. But I rest  
Well satisfied in myself, being assured  
That extraordinary virtues, when they soar  
Too high a pitch for common fights to judge of,  
Losing their proper splendour, are condemned  
For most remarkable vices.  Beauf. 
'tis too true, Sir,  
In the opinion of the multitude:  
But for myself that would be held your friend,  
And hope to know you by a nearer name,  
They are as they deserve, received.  Mal. 
My daughter  
Shall thank you for the favour.  Beauf. jun. 
I can wish  
No happiness beyond it.  1. Cap. 
Shall we have leave  
To bear the corpse of our dead Admiral,  
As he enjoined us from this Coast?  Mal. 
Provided  
The articles agreed on be observed,  
And you depart hence with it, making oath  
Never hereafter but as friends to touch  
Upon this shore.  1. Cap. 
we'll faithfully perform it.  Mal. 
Then as you please dispose of it. 'tis an object  
That I could wish removed. His sins die with him,  
So far he has my charity.  1. Cap. 
He shall have  The Sea Captains bear the body off with sad musics. 
A soldier's funeral.  Mal. 
Farewell.  Beauf. jun. 
These rites  
Paid to the dead, the Conqueror that survives  
Must reap the harvest of his bloody labour.  
Sound all loud instruments of joy and triumph,  
And with all circumstance, and ceremony  
Wait on the Patron of our liberty,  
Which he at all parts merits.  Mal. 
I am honoured.  
Beyond my hopes.  Beauf. jun. 
'Tis short of your deserts.  
Lead on: Oh Sir you must: you are too modest.  Exeunt with loud music.  

Actus secundi  
Scaena secunda.  Theocrine, Page, Women. Theoc. 
Talk not of comfort, I am both ways wretched,  
And so distracted with my doubts and fears,  
I know not where to fix my hopes. My loss  
Is certain in a father, or a brother,  
Or both, such is the cruelty of my fate,  
And not to be avoided.  1. Wom. 
You must bear it  
With patience, Madam.  2. Wom. 
And what's not in you  
To be prevented, should not cause a sorrow  
Which cannot help it.  Page, 
Fear not my brave Lord  
Your noble father; fighting is to him  
Familiar as eating. He can teach  
Our modern duelists how to cleave a button,  
And in a new way, never yet found out  
By old Caranza.  1. Wom. 
May he be victorious,  
And punish disobedience in his son,  
Whose death in reason should at no part move you,  
He being but half your brother, and the nearness,  
Which that might challenge from you, forfeited  
By his impious purpose to kill him, from whom  
He received life.  A shout within. 2. Wom. 
A general shout.  1. Wom. 
Of joy.  Page. 
Look up dear Lady, sad news never came  
Ushered with loud applause.  Enter Usher. Theo. 
I stand prepared,  
To endure the shock of it.  Vsh. 
I am out of breath  
With running to deliver first.  Theo. 
What?  Vsh. 
we are all made,  
My Lord has wont the day, your brother's slain,  
The pirates gone, and by the governor,  
And states, and all the men of war he is  
brought home in triumph, nay no musing, pay me  
For my good news hereafter.  Theo. 
Heaven is just!  Vsh. 
Give thanks at leisure, make all haste to meet him  
I could wish I were a horse that I might bear you  
To him upon my back.  Page. 
Thou art an ass,  
And this is a sweet burden.  Vsh. 
Peace you crackrope.  Exeunt.  

Actus secundi  
Scaena tertia.  Loud music, Montrevile, Belgarde, Beaufort junior, Beaufort senior, Malefort, followed by Montaigne, Chament Lanour. Beauf. sen. 
All honours we can give you and rewards  
Though all that's rich, or precious in Marseilles  
Were laid down at your feet, can hold no weight  
With your deservings, let me glory in  
Your action as if it were mine own,  
And have the honour with the arms of love,  
To embrace the great performer of a deed,  
Transcending all this Country ere could boast of.  Mont. 
Imagine, noble Sir, in what we may  
Express our thankfulness, and rest assured  
It shall be freely granted.  Cham. 
he's an enemy  
To goodness and to virtue, that dares think  
There's any other thing within our power to give,  
Which you in justice may not boldly challenge.  Lan. 
And as your own, for we will ever be  
At your devotion.  Mal. 
Much honoured Sir,  
And you my noble Lords, I can say only,  
The greatness of your favours overwhelm me,  
And like too large a sail, for the small bark  
Of my poor merits, sinks me. That I stand  
Upright in your opinions, is an honour  
Exceeding my deserts, I having done  
Nothing but what in duty I stood bound to:  
And to expect a recompense were base,  
Good deeds being ever in themselves rewarded.  
Yet since your liberal bounties tell me that  
I may with your allowance be a Suitor,  
To you my Lord I am an humble one,  
And must ask that, which known, I fear you will  
Censure me over. bold.  Beauf. sen. 
It must be something  
Of a strange nature, if it find from me  
Denial or delay.  Mal. 
Thus then my Lord,  
Since you encourage me: You are happy in  
A worthy son, and all the comfort that  
Fortune has left me is one daughter; now  
If it may not appear too much presumption,  
To seek to match my lowness with your height,  
I should desire (and if I may obtain it,  
I write Nilultra to my largest hopes)  
She may in your opinion be thought worthy  
To be received into your family,  
And married to your son: their years are equal,  
And their desires I think too, she is not  
ignoble, not my state contemptible,  
And if you think me worthy your alliance,  
'Tis all I do aspire to.  Beauf. jun. 
You demand  
That which with all the service of my life  
I should have laboured to obtain from you.  
O, Sir, why are you slow to meet so fair  
And noble an offer? Can France show a virgin  
That may be paralleled with her? Is she not  
The Phoenix of the time? the fairest star  
In the bright sphere of women?  Beauf. sen. 
Be not raped so:  
Though I dislike not what is motioned, yet  
In what so near concerns me, it is fit  
I should proceed with judgement.  Enter Usher, Theocrine, Page, Women. Beauf. jun. 
Here she comes,  
Look on her with impartial eyes, and then  
Let envy if it can, name one graced feature  
In which she is defective.  Mal. 
Welcome Girl:  
My joy, my comfort, my delight, my all,  
Why dost thou come to greet my victory  
In such a sable habit? this showed well  
When thy father was a prisoner, and suspected;  
but now his faith and loyalty are admired,  
Rather than doubted, in your outward garments  
You are to express the joy you feel within;  
Nor should you with more curiousness and care,  
Pace to the Temple to be made a Bride,  
Than now, when all men's eyes are fixed upon you,  
You should appear to entertain the honour  
From me descending to you, and in which  
You have an equal share.  Theo. 
Heaven has my thanks  
With all humility paid for your fair fortune,  
And so far duty binds me, ye a little  
To mourn a brother's loss however wicked,  
The tenderness familiar to our sex  
May if you please excuse  Mal. 
Thou art deceived,  
He living was a blemish to thy beauties,  
But in his death gives ornament, and lustre  
To thy perfections, but that they are  
So exquisitely rare, that they admit not  
The least addition. Hah! here's yet a print  
Of a sad tear on thy cheek, how it takes from  
Our present happiness! with a father's lips,  
A loving father's lips, I'll kiss it off  
The cause no more remembered.  Theo. 
You forget Sir  
The presence we are in.  Mal. 
'tis well considered,  
And yet who is the owner of a treasure,  
Above all value, but without offence,  
May glory in the glad possession of it.  
Nor let it in you excellence beget wonder,  
Or any here that looking on the daughter,  
I feast myself in the imagination  
Of those sweet pleasures, and allowed delights,  
I tasted from the mother, who still lives  
In this her perfect model, for she had  
Such smooth & high arched brows, such sparkling eyes  
Whose every glance stored Cupid's emptied quiver;  
Such ruby lips, and such a lovely brown,  
Disdaining all adulterate aids of art,  
Keeped a perpetual spring upon her face,  
As death himself lamented being forced  
To blast it with his paleness, and if now,  
Her brightness dimmed with sorrow, take and please you,  
Think think young Lord, when she appears herself  
(This veil removed) in her own natural pureness  
How far she will transport you.  Beauf. jun. 
Did she need it,  
The praise which you (and well deserved) give to her  
Must of necessity raise new desires  
In one indebted more to years; to me  
Your words are but as oil poured on a fire,  
That flames already at the height.  Mal. 
No more;  
I do believe you, and let me from you  
Find so much credit, when I make her yours  
I do possess you of a gift, which I  
With much unwillingness part from. My good Lords  
For bear your further trouble, give me leave, for on the sudden I  
am indisposed to retire to my own house, and rest. Tomorrow  
As you command me I will be your guest,  
And having decked my daughter like herself,  
You shall have farther conference.  Beauf. sen. 
You are Master  
Of your own will but fail not I'll expect you.  Mal. 
Nay I will be excused, I must part with you  
My dearest Theocrine give me thy hand,  To young Beaufort and the rest. 
I will support thee.  Theo. 
You gripe it too hard Sir.  Mal. 
Indeed I do, but have no farther end in it,  
But love and tenderness such as I may challenge  
And you must grant. Thou art a sweet one yet  
And to be cherished.  They go off several ways Theo. 
May I still deserve it.    

Actus tertii  

Scaena prima.  Enter Beaufort senior, Servant. Beaufort senior. 
HAve you been careful?  Serv. 
With my best endeavours,  
Let them bring stomachs, there's no want of meat Sir:  
Portly and curious viands are prepared,  
To please all kinds of appetites.  Beauf. sen. 
'tis well.  
I love a table furnish with full plenty,  
And store of friends to eat it, but with this caution,  
I would not have my house a common Inn,  
For some men that come rather to devour me,  
Than to present their service. At this time too  
It being a serious and solemn meeting,  
I must not have my board pestered with shadows,  
That under other men's protection break in  
Without invitement.  Serv. 
With your favour then,  
You must double your guard, my Lord, for on my knowledge  
There are some so sharp set, not to be kept out  
By a file of Musketeers, And 'tis less danger,  
I'll undertake, to stand at push of pike  
With an enemy in a breach, that undermined too,  
And the Cannon playing on it, than to stop  
One Harpy, your perpetual guest, from entrance,  
When the dresser, the cook's drum, thunders come on,  
The service will be lost else.  Beauf. sen. 
What is he?  Serv. 
As tall a trencherman, that is most certain,  
As ere demolished Pie-fortification  
As soon as battered; and if the rim of his belly  
Were not made up of a much tougher stuff  
Than his Buff jerkin, there were no defence  
Against the charge of his guts: you needs must know him,  
He's eminent for his eating.  Beauf. sen. 
O Belgarde!  Serv. 
The same, one of the admiral's cast Captains,  
Who swear, there being no war, nor hope of any,  
The only drilling is to eat devoutly,  
And to beever drinking, (that's allowed of)  
But they know not where to get it, there's the spite on't.  Beauf. sen. 
The more their misery, yet if you can  
For this day put him off.  Serv. 
It is beyond th'invention of man.  Beauf. sen. 
No: say this only,  Whispers to him. 
And as from me; you apprehend me?  Serv. 
Yes Sir.  Beauf. sen. 
But it must be done gravely.  Serv. 
Never doubt me Sir.  Beauf. sen. 
we'll dine in the great room, but let the music  
And banquet be prepared here.  Exit Beauf. sen. Serv. 
This will make him  
Lose his dinner at the least, and that will vex him.  
As for the sweet meats, when they are trod under foot,  
Let him take his share with the Pages and lackeys,  
Or scramble in the rushes.  Enter Belgarde. Belg. 
'tis near twelve,  
I keep a watch within me never misses.  
Save thee Master Steward.  Serv. 
You are most welcome, Sir.  Belg. 
Has thy Lord slept well tonight? I come to inquire.  
I had a foolish dream, that against my will  
Carried me from my lodging, to learn only  
How he's disposed.  Serv. 
He's in most perfect health, Sir.  Belg. 
Let me but see him feed heartily at dinner,  
And I'll believe so too, for from that ever  
I make a certain judgement.  Serv. 
It holds surely  
In your own constitution.  Belg. 
And in all men's  
'tis the best symptom, let us lose no time,  
Delay is dangerous.  Serv. 
Troth Sir if I might  
Without offence deliver what my Lord has  
Committed to my trust, I shall receive it  
As a special favour.  Belg. 
we'll see't, and discourse  
As the proverb says for health sake after dinner,  
Or rather after supper, willingly then  
I'll walk a mile to hear thee.  Serv. 
Nay good Sir  
I will be brief and pithy.  Belg. 
Prithee be so.  Serv. 
He bid me say of all his guests, that he  
Stands most affected to you, for the freedom,  
And plainness of your manners. He ne'er observed you  
To twirl a dish about, you did not like of  
All being pleasing to you; or to take  
A say of venison, or stale fowl by your nose,  
(Which is a solecism at another's table)  
But by strong eating of 'em did confirm  
They never were delicious to your palate,  
But when they were mortified, as the Huguenot says,  
And so your part grows greater, nor do you  
Find fault with the sauce, keen hunger being the best,  
Which ever to your much praise, you bring with you;  
Nor will you with impertinent relations  
Which is a masterpiece, when meats before you  
Forget your teeth to use your nimble tongue  
But do the feat you come for.  Belg. 
Be advised  
And end your jeering; for if you proceed  
You'll feel, as I can eat I can be angry,  
And beating may ensue.  Serv. 
I'll take your counsel,  
And roundly come to the point, my Lord much wonders  
That you, that are a courtier as a soldier,  
In all things else, and every day can vary  
Your actions and discourse, continue constant  
To this one suit?  Belg. 
To one? 'tis well I have one, unpawned, in these days, every cast commander is not blessed with the fortune, I assure you, but why this question? does this offend him?  Serv. 
Not much: but he believes it is the reason,  
You ne'er presume to fit above the salt,  
And therefore this day (our great Admiral  
With other states being invited guests)  
He does entreat you to appear among'em,  
In some fresh habit.  Belg. 
This staff shall not serve  
To beat the dog off, these are soldiers garments,  
And so by consequence grow contemptible.  Serv. 
It has stung him.  Belg. 
I would I were acquainted with the players,  
In charity they might furnish me, but there is  
No faith in Brokers, and for believing Tailors  
They are only to be read of, but not seen,  
And sure they are confined to their own hells,  
And there they live invisible, well I must not  
Be fobbed off thus, pray you report my service  
To the Lord governor. I will obey him  
And though my wardrobe's poor, rather than lose  
His company at this feast, I will put on  
The richest suit I have, and fill the chair,  
That makes me worthy of—  Exit Belgarde. Serv. 
We are shut of him, he will be seen no more here, how my fellows  
Will bless me for his absence, he had starved 'em  
Had he stayed a little longer, would be could,  
For his own sake shift a shirt, and that's the utmost  
Of his ambition, adieu good Captains—  Exit: Enter Beaufort Sen, and Beaufort jun. Beauf. sen. 
'tis a strange fondness.  Beauf. jun. 
'tis beyond example,  
His resolution to part with his estate,  
To make her dower the weightier is nothing,  
But to observe how curious he is  
In his own person to add ornament  
To his daughters ravishing features, is the wonder.  
I sent a page of mine in the way of courtship,  
This morning to her to present my service,  
From whom I understand all: there he found him  
Solicitous in what shape she should appear,  
This gown was rich, but the fashion stale, the other  
Was quaint, and neat, but the stuff not rich enough,  
Then does he curse the tailor, and in rage  
Falls on her Shoemaker, for wanting art  
To express in every circumstance, the form  
Of her most delicate foot, then sits in counsel  
With much deliberation to find out  
What tire would best adorn her; and one chosen  
Varying in his opinion, he tears off,  
And stamps it under foot, then tries a second  
A third and fourth, and satisfied at length  
With much ado in that, he grows again,  
perplexed and troubled where to place her Jewels  
To be most marked, and whether she, should wear  
This diamond on her forehead, or between  
Her milk-white paps, disputing on it both ways,  
Then taking in this hand, a rope of pearl,  
(The best of France) he seriously considers  
Whither she should dispose it on her arm  
Or on her neck, with 20 other trifles, too tedious to deliver.  Beauf. sen. 
I have known him from his first youth, but never yet observed  
In all the passages of his life, and fortunes,  
Virtues so mixed with vices, valiant the world speaks him,  
But with that bloody; liberal in his gifts too.  
But to maintain his prodigal expense,  
A fierce extortioner, an impotent lover  
Of women for a flash, but his fires quenched,  
Hating as deadly, the truth is I am not  
Ambitious of this match: nor will I cross you in your affections.  Beauf. jun. 
I have ever found you,  
(And 'tis my happiness) a loving father,  Loud music. 
And careful of my good:— by the loud music,  
As you gave order for his entertainment,  
He's come into the house two long hours since,  
The Colonels, commissioners and captains,  
To pay him all the rites his worth can challenge,  
Went to wait on him hither.  Enter Malefort, Montaigus, Chamont, Lanour, Montrevile, Theocrine, Usher, Page, Women. Beauf. sen. 
You are most welcome,  
And what I speak to you, does from My heart  
disperse itself to all.  Mal. 
You meet my Lord your trouble.  Beauf. sen. 
Rather Sir increase of honour,  
When you are pleased to grace my house.  Beauf. jun. 
The Favour redoubled on my part, most worthy Sir,  
Since your fair daughter, my incomparable Mistress,  
Deigns us her presence.  Mal. 
View her well brave Beaufort,  
But yet at distance, you hereafter may  
Make your approaches nearer, when the priest  
Hath made it lawful, and were not she mine,  
I durst aloud proclaim it. Hymen never  
Put on his saffron coloured robe to change  
A barren virgin name with more good omens,  
Then at her nuptials, look on her again,  
Then tell me if she now appear the same  
That she was yesterday.  Beauf. sen. 
Being herself  
She cannot but be excellent, these rich  
And curious dressings, which in others might  
Cover deformities, from her take lustre  
Nor can add to her.  Mal. 
You conceive her right,  
And in your admiration of her sweetness,  
You only can deserve her; blush not girl,  
Thou art above his praise, or mine, nor can  
Obsequious flattery though she should use  
Her thousand oyld tongues to advance thy worth,  
Give aught (for that's impossible) but take from  
Thy more than humane graces, and even then  
When she hath spent herself with her best strength,  
The wrong she has done thee shall be so apparent,  
That losing her own servile shape and name,  
She will be thought detraction, but I  
Forget myself, and something whispers to me,  
I have said too much.  Mont. 
I know not what to think on't,  
But there's some mystery in it, which I fear  
Will be too soon discovered.  Mal. 
I much wrong  
Your patience noble Sir, by too much hugging  
My proper issue, and like the foolish crow  
Believe my black brood swans.  Beauf. sen. 
There needs not Sir  
The least excuse for this, nay I must have  
Your arm, you being the master of the feast,  
And this the mistress.  Theo. 
I am anything  
That you shall please to make me.  Beauf. jun. 
Nay 'tis yours  
Without more compliment.  Loud music. Exeunt Beaufort senior, Malefort, Theocrine, Beaufort jun Montaigne, Chamont Lanour, Montrevile. Mont. 
Your will's a law sir.  Vsh. 
Would I had been borne a Lord  1. Wom. 
Or I a Lady.  Page. 
It may be you were both be got in court,  
Though bred up in the City, for your mothers,  
As I have heard loved the lobby, and there nightly  
Are seen strange apparitions, and who knows  
But that some noble fawn, heated with wine,  
And cloyed with partridge, had a kind of longing  
To trade in sprats? this needs no exposition,  
But can you yield a reason for your wishes?  Vsh. 
Why had I been borne a Lord, I had been no servant.  1. Wom. 
And where as now necessity makes us waiters,  
We had been attended on.  2. Wom. 
And might have slept then,  
As long as we pleased, and fed when we had stomachs,  
And worn new clothes, nor lived as now in hope  
Of a cast gown, or petticoat.  Page. 
You are fools,  
And ignorant of your happiness, ere I was  
Sworn to the pantofle, I have heard my tutor  
Prove it by logic, that a servant's life  
Was better than his masters, and by that  
I learn from him, if that my memory fall not,  
I'll make it good.  Vsh. 
Proceed my little wit  
In decimo sexto.  Page. 
Thus then from the king  
To the beggar, by gradation all are servants,  
And you must grant the slavery is less  
To study to please one, than many.  Vsh. 
True.  Page. 
Well then, and first to you Sir, you complain  
You serve one Lord, but your Lord serves a thousand,  
Besides his passions (that are his worst masters)  
You must humour him, and he is bound to soothe  
Every grim Sir above him, if he frown,  
For the least neglect you fear to lose your place,  
But if, and with all slavish observation,  
From the minion's self, to the groom of his close stool,  
He hourly seeks not favour, he is sure  
To be eased of his office, though perhaps he bought it.  
Nay more, that high disposer of all such  
That are subordinate to him, serves, and fears  
The fury of the many-headed monster,  
The giddy multitude And as a horse  
Is still a horse, for all his golden trappings,  
So your men of purchased titles, at their best are  
But serving-men in rich liveries.  Vsh. 
Most rare infant,  
Where learnd'st thou this morality?  Page. 
Why thou dull pate,  
As I could thee, of my tutor.  2. Wom. 
Now for us boy.  Page. 
I am cut of the governor.  Enter Beaufort sen. Beaufort junior, Servants setting forth a banquet. Beauf. sen. 
Quick, quick sirs,  
See all things perfect.  Serv. 
Let the blame be ours else.  Beauf. sen. 
And as I said when we are at the banquet,  
And high in our cups, for 'tis no feast without it,  
Especially among soldiers: Theocrine  
Being retired, as that's no place for her,  
Take you occasion to rise from the table,  
And lose no opportunity.  Beauf. jun. 
'tis my purpose,  
And if I can win her to give her heart,  
I have a holy man in readiness  
To join our hands, for the Admiral her father repents him of his grant to me, and  
So far transported with a strange opinion  
of her fair features, that should we desire it,  
I think ere long he will believe, and strongly,  
The dauphin is not worthy of her, I  
Am much amazed with't.  Exeunt Beaufort sen. Beauf. sen. 
Nay dispatch there fellows.  Beaufort junior. Serv. 
We are ready when you please, sweet forms your pardon,  
It has been such a busy time I could not  
Tender that ceremonious respect  
Which you deserve, but now the great work ended,  
I will attend the less, and with all care  
Observe, and serve you.  Page. 
This is a penned speech,  
And serves as a perpetual preface to  
A dinner made of fragments.  Vsh. 
we wait on you.  Loud Music.  

Actus tertii,  
Scaena tertia.  Beaufort senior, Malefort, Montaigne, Chamont, Lanour, Beaufort, junior, Montrevile, Servants. BEAUFORT SENIOR. 
YOU are not merry Sir.  Mal. 
Yes my good Lord,  
You have given us ample means to drown all cares,  
And yet I nourish strange thoughts, which I would  Aside. 
Most willingly destroy  Beauf. sen. 
Pray you take your place,  Beauf. jun. 
And drink a health, and let it be if you please  
To the worthiest of Women, now observe him.  Mal. 
Give me the bowl, since you do me the honour,  
I will begin it.  Cham. 
May we know her name Sir?  Mal. 
You shall, I will not choose a foreign Queens,  
Nor yet our own, for that would relish of  
Tame flattery; nor do their height of title,  
Or absolute power confirm their worth and goodness,  
These being heavens gifts and frequently conferred  
On such as are beneath 'em; nor will I  
Name the king Mistress howsoever she  
In his esteem may carry it, but if I,  
As wine gives liberty, may use my freedom;  
Not swayed this way, or that with confidence,  
(And I will make it good on any equal)  
If it must be to her, whose outward form  
Is bettered by the beauty of her mind,  
She lives not that with justice can pretend  
An interest to this so sacred health,  
But my fair daughter. He that only doubts it,  
I do pronounce a villain, this to her then.  Drinks. Loud music. Mont. 
What may we think of this?  Beauf. sen. 
It matters not.  Lan. 
For my part I will soothe him rather than  
Draw on a quarrel, Chamont.  Mont. 
'tis the safest course, and one I mean to follow.  Beauf. jun. 
It has gone round Sir.  Exit Beaufort junior. Mal. 
Now you have done her right, if there be any  
Worthy to second this, propose it boldly,  
I am your pledge.  Beauf. sen. 
let's pause here if you please,  
And entertain the time with something else,  
Music there in some lofty strain, the song too  
That I gave order for; the new one called  
The soldier's delight?  
The song ended: enter Belgarde in armour a case of Carbines by his side.  Belg. 
Who stops me now?  
Or who dares only say that I appear not  
In the most rich and glorious habit that  
Renders a man complete? what court so set off  
With state and ceremonious pomp, but thus  
Accoutred I may enter? or what feast  
Though all the elements at once were ransacked,  
To store it with variety transcending  
The curiousness, and cost, on Traian's birth day,  
(Where princes only, and confederate kings  
Did sit as guests, served, and attended on  
By the senators of Rome, sat with a soldier  
In this his natural, and proper shape  
Might not and boldly fill a seat, and by  
His present make the great solemnity  
More honoured and remarkable?  Beauf. sen. 
'tis acknowledged,  
And this a grace done to me unexpected.  Mont. 
But why in armour?  Mal. 
What's the mystery?  
Pray you reveal that.  Belg. 
soldier's out of action,  
That very rare, but like unbidden guests  
Bring their stools with 'em, for their own defence,  
At court should feed in gauntlets, they may have  
Their fingers cut else; there your carpet knights,  
That never charged beyond a mistress lips,  
Are still most keen, and valiant, but to you  
Whom it does most concern, my Lord, I will  
Address my speech, and with a soldier's freedom  
In my reproof return the bitter scoff,  
You threw upon my poverty, you contemned  
My courser outside, and from that concluded,  
(As by your groom you made me understand)  
I was unworthy to sit at your table,  
Among these tissues, and embroideries,  
Unless I changed my habit, I have done it,  
And show myself in that which I have worn  
In the heat and fervour of a bloody fight,  
And then it was in fashion, not as now  
Ridiculous, and despised, this hath passed through  
A wood of pikes, and every one aimed at it,  
Yet scorned to take impression from their fury  
With this, as still you see it fresh and new  
I have charged through fire that would have singed your sables  
Black fox, and ermins, and changed the proud colour  
Of Skatlet though of the right tyrian die;  
But now as if the trappings made the man, such only are  
Admired that come adorned  
With what's no part of them, this is mine own  
My richest suit, a suit I must not part from,  
But not regarded now, and yet remember  
'tis we that bring you in the means of feasts,  
Banquets, and revels, which when you possess,  
With barbarous ingratitude you deny us  
To be made sharers in the harvest, which  
Our sweat and industry reaped, and sowed for you.  
The silks you wear, we with our blood spin for you;  
This massy plate, that with the ponderous weight  
Does make your cupboards crack, we (unaffrighted  
With tempests, or the long and tedious way,  
Or dreadful monsters of the deep, that wait  
With open jaws still ready to devour us)  
Fetch from the other world. Let it not then  
In after ages to your shame be spoken,  
That you wish no relenting eyes look on  
Our wants that feed your plenty; or consume  
In prodigal, and wanton gifts on Drones  
The kingdom's treasure, yet detain from us.  
The debt that with the hazard of our lives,  
We have made you stand engaged for: or force us  
Against all civil government in armour  
To require that, which with all willingness  
Should be tendered, ere demanded.  Beauf. sen. 
I commend  
This wholesome sharpness in you, and prefer it  
Before obsequious tameness, it shows lovely:  
Nor shall the rain of your good counsel fall  
Upon the barren sands, but spring up fruit  
Such as you long have wished for. And the rest  
Of your profession like you discontented  
For want of means, shall in their present payment  
Be bound to praise your boldness: and hereafter  
I will take order you shall have no cause,  
For want of change to put your armour on  
But in the face of an enemy; not as now  
Among your friends. To that which is due to you,  
To furnish you like yourself, of mine own bounty  
I'll add five hundred crowns.  Cham. 
I to my power  
Will follow the example.  Mont. 
Take this Captain,  
'tis all my present store, but when you please,  
Command me further.  Lan. 
I could wish it more.  Belg. 
This is the luckiest jest ever came from me.  
Let a Soldier use no other Scribe to draw  
The form of his petition. This will speed  
When your thrice humble supplications,  
With prayers for increase of health and honours  
To their grave Lordships shall as soon as read  
Be pocketed up, the cause no more remembered.  
When this dumb Rhetoric.— Well, I have a life,  
Which I in thankfulness for your great favours,  
My noble Lords, when you please to command it,  
Must never think mine own. Broker, be happy,  
These golden birds fly to thee.  Exit Belgarde. Beauf. sen. 
You are dull, Sir,  
And seem not to be taken with the passage  
You saw presented.  Mal. 
Passage? I observed none,  
My thoughts were elsewhere busied. Ha! she is  
In danger to be lost, to be lost for ever,  
If speedily I come not to her rescue,  
For so my Genius tells me.  Montr. 
What Chimaeras  
Work on your fantasy?  Mal. 
Fantasies? They are truths.  
Where is my Theocrine? You have plotted  
To rob me of my Daughter: bring me to her,  
Or I'll call down the Saints to witness for me:  
You are inhospitable.  Beauf. sen. 
You amaze me  
Your Daughter's sake, and now exchanging courtship  
With my son her servant, why do you hear this  
With such distracted looks? since to that end  
You brought her hither?  Mal. 
'tis confessed I did,  
But now pray you pardon me, and if you please  
Ere she deliver up her virgin fort,  
I would observe what is the art he uses  
In planting his artillery against it,  
She is my only care, nor must she yield  
But upon noble terms.  Beauf. sen. 
'tis so determined.  Ma. 
Yet I am jealous.  Mont. 
Overmuch I fear.  
What passions are these?  Beauf. sen. 
Come I will bring you  
Where you, with these if they so please, may see  
The love-scene acted.  Montre. 
There is something more  
Than fatherly love in this.  Monta. 
We wait upon you.  Exeunt omnes.  

Actus tertij  
Scaena ultima.  Beaufort jun. Theocrine. Beauf. jun. 
Since then you meet my flames with equal order  
As you profess, it is your bounty mistress,  
Nor must I call it debt, yet 'tis your glory,  
That your excess supplies my want, and makes thee  
Strong in my weakness, which could never be,  
But in your good opinion.  Theo. 
You teach me Sir,  
What I should say, since from your san of favour,  
I like dim Phoebe, in herself obscure  
Borrow that light I have.  Beauf. jun. 
Which you return  
With large increase (since that you will o'ercome  
And I dare not contend)   were you but pleased  
To make what's yet divided one.  Theo. 
I have  
Already in my wishes, modesty  
Forbids me to speak more.  Beauf. jun. 
but what assurance,  
(But still without offence) may I demand  
That may secure me that your heart tongue  
Join to make up this harmony?  Theo. 
Choose any  
Suiting your love distinguished from lust,  
To ask and mine to grant.  Enter (as unseen) Beaufort senior, Malefort, Montrevile, and the rest. Beauf. sen. 
Yonder they are.  Mal. 
At distance too, 'tis yet well.  Beauf. jun. 
I may take then  
This hand, and with a thousand burning kisses,  
Swear 'tis the anchor to my hopes?  Theo. 
You may Sir.  Mal. 
This is somewhat too much.  Beauf. iun. 
And this done, view myself  
In these true mirrors.  Theo. 
Ever true to you Sir,  
And may they lose th' ability of fight,  
When they seek other object.  Mal. 
This is more  
Than I can give consent to.  Beauf. iun. 
And a kiss,  
Thus printed on your lips will not distaste you?  Mal. 
Her lips!  Montre. 
Why where should he kiss? are you distracted?  Beauf. iun. 
Then when this holy man hath made it lawful.  brings in a Priest. Mal. 
A priest so ready too I must break in.  Beauf. iun. 
And what's spoke here is registered above,  
I must ingross those favours to myself  
Which are not to be named.  Theo. 
All I can give,  
But what they are I know not.  Beauf. jun. 
I'll instruct you.  Mal. 
O how my blood boil!  Montr. 
Pray you contain yourself,  
methinks his courtship's modest.  Beauf. jun. 
Then being mine,  
And wholly mine, the river of your love  
To kinsmen and allies, nay to your father,  
(howe'er out of his tenderness he admires you)  
Must in the Ocean of your affection  
To me be swallowed up, and want a name  
Compared with what you owe me.  Theoc. 
'tis most fit, Sir,  
The stronger bond that binds me to you, must  
Dissolve the weaker.  Mal. 
I am ruined if  
I come not fairly off.  Beauf. sen. 
There's nothing wanting  
But your consent.  Mal. 
Some strange invention aid me.  Aside. 
This! yes, it must be so.  Montr. 
Why do you stagger,  
When what you seemed so much to wish is offered?  Beauf. jun. 
Both parties being agreed to.  Beauf. sen. 
I'll not court  
A grant from you, nor do I wrong your Daughter,  
Though I say my son deserves her.  Mal. 
'tis far from  
My humble thoughts to undervalue him  
I cannot prize too high. For howsoever  
From my own fond indulgence I have sung  
Her praises with too prodigal a tongue,  
That tenderness laid by, I stand confirmed  
All that I fancied excellent in her  
Balanced, with what is really his own,  
Holds weight in no proportion.  Montr. 
New turnings!  Beauf. sen. 
Whither tends this?  Mal. 
Had you observed, my Lord,  
With what a sweet gradation he wood,  
As I did punctually, you cannot blame her,  
Though she did listen with a greedy ear  
To his fair modest offers: but so great  
A good as then flowed to her, should have been  
With more deliberation entertained,  
And not with such haste swallowed, she shall first  
Consider seriously what the blessing is,  
And in what ample manner to give thanks for't,  
And then receive it. And though I shall think  
Short minutes years till it be perfitted,  
I will defer that which I most desire,  
And so must she, till longing expectation,  
That heightens pleasure, makes her truly know  
Her happiness, and with what outstretched arms  
She must embrace it.  Beauf jun. 
This is curiousness  
Beyond example.  Mal. 
Let it then begin  
From me, in what's mine own I'll use my will,  
And yield no further reason. I lay claim to  
The liberty of a subject. Fall not off,  
But be obedient, or by the hair  
I'll drag thee home. Censure me as you please,  
I'll take my own way, O the inward fires  
That wanting vent consume me!  Exit with Theocrine. Montr. 
'tis most certain  
he's mad, or worse.  Beauf. 
How, worse?  Montr. 
Nay, there I leave you,  
My thoughts are free.  Beauf. jun. 
This I foresaw.  Beauf. sen. 
Take comfort,  
H shall walk in clouds, but I'll discover him:  
And he shall find, and feel, if he excuse not,  
And with strong reasons this gross injury,  
I can make use of my authority.  Exeunt omnes.   

Actus quarti  

Scena prima.  MALEFORT solus. 
WHat flames are these my wild desires fan in me?  
The torch that feeds them, was not lighted at  
Thy altars, Cupid: vindicate thyself,  
And do not own it: and confirm it rather,  
That this infernal brand that turns me cinders,  
Was by the snake-haired Sisters thrown into  
My guilty bosom. O that I was ever  
Accursed in having issue: my son's blood,  
(That like the poisoned shirt of Hercules  
Grows to each part about me) which my hate  
Forced from him with much willingness, may admit  
Some weak defence; but my most impious love  
To my fair daughter Theocrine, none.  
Since my affection (rather wicked lust)  
That does pursue her, is a greater crime  
Than any detestation, with which  
I should afflict her innocence. With what cunning  
I have betrayed myself, and did not feel  
The scorching heat that now with fury rages  
Why was I tender of her? covered with  
That fond disguise, this mischief stole upon me.  
I thought it no offence to kiss her often,  
Or twine mine arms about her softer neck,  
And by false shadows of a father's kindness  
I long deceived myself: but now the effect  
Is too apparent. How I strove to be  
In her opinion held the worthiest man  
In courtship, form, and feature, envying him  
That was preferred before me, and yet then  
My wishes to myself were not discovered.  
But still my fires increased, and with delight  
I would call her mistress, wilfully forgetting  
The name of daughter choosing rather she  
Should style me servant, then with reverence father,  
Yet mocking I ne'er cherished obscene hopes,  
But in my troubled slumbers often thought  
She was too near to me, and then sleeping blushed  
At my imagination which passed  
My eyes being open, not condemning it,  
I was ravished with the pleasure of the dream,  
Yet spite of these temptations I have reason  
That pleads against'em, and commands me to  
Extinguish these abominable fires,  
And I will do it, I will send her back  
To him that loves her lawfully, Within there?  Enter Theocrine. Theoc. 
Sir did you call?  Malef. 
I look no sooner on her,  
But all my boasted power of reason leaves me,  
And passion again usurps her Empire, does none else wait me?  Theoc. 
I am wretched sir, should any owe more duty.  Malef. 
This is worse than disobedience, leave me.  Theoc. 
On my knees sir, as I have ever squared my will by yours.  
And liked, and loathed with your eyes: I beseech you  
To teach me what the nature of my fault is,  
That hath incensed you, (sure 'tis one of weakness  
And not of malice) which your gentler temper  
On my submission I hope will pardon,  
Which granted by your piety, if that I  
Out of the least neglect of mine hereafter,  
Make you remember it, may I sink ever  
Under your dread command.  Malef. 
O my stars! who can but dote on this humility  
That sweetens, lovely in her tears? the fetters  
That seemed to lessen in their weight; but now  
By this grow heavier on me.  Theoc. 
Dear sir:  Malef. 
Peace, I must not hear thee.  Theoc. 
Not look on me.  Malef. 
No, thy looks and words are charms.  Theoc. 
May they have power then  
To calm the tempest of your wrath, alas sir,  
Did I but know in what I give offence  
In my repentance I would show my sorrow,  
For what is past, and in my care hereafter  
Kill the occasion or cease to be  
Since life without your favour is to me a load I would cast off.  Malef. 
O that my heart were rent in sunder, that I might expire,  
The cause in my death buried: yet I know not  
With such prevailing Oratory 'tis begged from me  
That to deny thee would convince me to  
Have sucked the milk of Tigers, rise, and I  
But in a perplexed, and mysterious method.  
Will make relation that which all the world  
Admires and cries up in thee for perfections,  
Are to unhappy me foul blemishes,  
And mulcts in nature. If thou hadst been borne  
Deformed and crooked, in the features of  
Thy body, as the manners of thy mind,  
moor lipped, flat nosed, dim eyed, and beetle browed  
With a dwarf's stature to a giant waste,  
Sour breathed, with claws for fingers on thy hands,  
Splay footed, gouty legged, and over all  
A loathsome leprosy had spread itself,  
And made thee shunned of humane fellowships:  
I had been blessed.  Theoc. 
Why would you with a monster  
For such a one or worse you have described,  
To call your father.  Malef. 
Rather than as now,  
Though I had drowned thee for it in the sea  
Appearing as thou dost a new Pandora,  
With Juno's fair cow eyes, Minerva's brow  
Aurora's blushing cheeks, Hebe's fresh youth,  
Venus' soft paps, with Thetis silver feet.  Theoc. 
Sir you have liked and loved them, and oft forced  
(With your hyperboles of praise poured on them)  
My modesty to a defensive red,  
Strewed o'er that paleness, which you then were pleased  
To style the purest white.  Malef. 
And in that cup I drank the poison I now feel dispersed  
Through every vain and artery, wherefore art thou  
So cruel to me? This thy outward shape  
Brought a fierce war against me, not to be  
By flesh and blood resisted: but to leave me  
No hope of freedom from the Magazine  
Of thy minds forces, treacherously thou drewest up  
Auxiliary helps to strengthen that  
Which was already in itself too potent,  
Thy beauty gave the first charge, but thy duty  
Seconded with thy care, and watchful studies  
To please, and serve my will in all that might  
Raise up content in me, like thunder broke through  
All opposition, and my ranks of reason  
Disbanded, my victorious passions fell  
To bloody execution, and compelled me  
With willing hands to 'tis on my own chains,  
And with a kind of flattering joy to glory in my captivity.  Theoc. 
ay, in this you speak, sir, am ignorance itself.  Male. 
And so continue, for knowledge of the arms thou bear'st against me  
Would make thee curse thyself, but yield no aids  
For thee to help me, and 'twere cruelty  
In me to wound that spotless innocency  
howe'er it make me guilty, in a word  
The pleurisy of goodness is thy ill,  
Thy virtue's vices, and thy humble lowness  
Far worse than stubborn sullenness, and pride,  
Thy looks that ravish all beholders else  
As killing as the Basilisks, their tears  
expressed in sorrow for the much I suffer,  
A glorious insultation, and no sign  
Of pity in thee, and to hear thee speak  
In thy defence, though but in silent action,  
Would make the hurt already deeply festered  
Incurable, and therefore as thou wouldst not  
By thy presence raise fresh furies to torment me  
I do conjure thee by a father's power,  
(And 'tis my curse I dare not think it lawful  
To sue unto thee in a nearer name)  
Without reply to leave me.  Theoc. 
My obedience never learned yet to question your commands,  
But willingly to serve 'em, yet I must  
Since that your will forbids the knowledge of  
My fault, lament my fortune.  Exit. Malf. 
O that I have reason to discern the better way  
And yet pursue the worse, when I look on her  
I burn with heat, and in her absence freeze  
With the cold blasts of jealousy, that another  
Should ere taste those delights that are denied me,  
And which of their afflictions bring less torture  
I hardly can distinguish, is there then  
No mean? no, so my understanding tells me,  
And that by my cross fates it is determined  
That I am both ways wretched.  Enter Usher, and Montrevile Vsher. 
Yonder he walks sir,  
In much vexation: he hath sent my Lady  
His daughter weeping in, but what the cause is  
Rests yet in supposition.  Montr. 
I guess at it, but must be further satisfied, I will sift him  
In private therefore, quit the room.  Vsher. 
I am gone, sir.  Exit. Malef. 
Hal who disturbs me? Montrevile? your pardon,  Montr. 
Would you could grant one to yourself. (I speak it  
With the assurance of a friend) and yet  
Before it be too late, make reparation  
Of the gross wrong, your indiscretion offered  
To the governor and his son, nay to yourself,  
For there begins my sorrow.  Malef. 
Would I had no greater cause to mourn  
Then their displeasure, for I dare justify.  Montr. 
We must not do all that we dare private friend  
I observed your alterations with a stricter eye  
Perhaps then others, and to lose no time  
In repetition, your strange demeanour  
To your sweet daughter.  Malef. 
Would you could find out some other theme to treat of.  Montr. 
None but this; and this I'll dwell on, how ridiculous  
And subject to construction?  Malef. 
No more.  Montr. 
You made yourself, amazes me, and if  
The frequent trials interchanged between us  
Of love and friendship, be to their desert  
Esteemed by you, as they hold weight with me,  
No inward trouble should be of a shape  
So horrid to yourself, but that to me  
You stand bound to discover it, and unlock  
Your secretest thoughts: though the most innocent were  
Loud crying sins.  Malef. 
And so perhaps they are.  
And therefore be not curious to learn that  
Which known must make you hate me.  Montr. 
Think not so, I am yours in right and wrong, not shall you find  
A verbal friendship in me, but an active,  
And here I vow, I shall no sooner know  
What the disease is, but if you give leave  
I will apply a remedy, is it madness?  
I am familiarly acquainted with a deep read man  
That can with charms and herbs  
Restore you to your reason, or suppose  
You are bewitched, he with more potent spells  
And magical rites shall cure you, is't heavens anger?  
With penitence and sacrifice appease it,  
Beyond this, there is nothing that I can  
Imagine dreadful, in your fame and fortunes  
You are secure, your impious son removed to  
That rendered you suspected to the state,  
And your fair daughter.  Malef. 
Oh press me no farther.  Montr. 
Are you wrung there? why what of her? hath she  
Made shipwreck of her honour, or conspired  
Against your life? or sealed a contract with  
The devil of hell, for the recovery of her young Inamorato?  Malef. 
None of these,  
And yet what must increase the wonder in you  
Being Innocent in herself, she hath wounded me,  
But where inquire not. Yet I know not how  
I am persuaded from my confidence  
Of your vowed love to me, to trust you with  
My dearest secret, pray you chide me for it,  
But with a kind of pity, not insulting  
On my calamity.  Montre. 
Forward.  Malef. 
This same daughter.  Montre. 
What is her fault?  Malef. 
She is too fair to me.  Montre. 
Ha! how is this?  Malef. 
And I have looked upon her  
More than a father should, and languish to  
Enjoy her as a husband.  Montre. 
Heaven forbid it,  Malef. 
And this is all the comfort you can give me,  
Where are your promisd aids, your charms, your herbs?  
Your deep read scholar, spells, and magic rites?  
Can all these disenchant me? no, I must be  
My own Physician, and upon myself  
Practise a desperate cure.  Montr. 
Do not contemn me,  
Enjoin me what you please with any hazard,  
I'll undertake it, what means have you practiced  
To quench this hellish fire?  Malef. 
All I could think on,  
But to no purpose, and yet sometimes absence  
Does yield a kind of intermission to  
The fury of the fit.  Montr. 
See her no more then.  Malef. 
'tis my last refuge, and 'twas my intent  
And still 'tis, to desire your help.  Montr. 
Command it.  Malef. 
Thus then, you have a fort of which you are  
The absolute Lord, whither I pray you bear her:  
And that the sight of her may not again  
Nourish those flames, which I feel something lessened,  
By all the ties of friendship I conjure you  
And by a solemn oath you must confirm it,  
That though my now calmed passions should rage higher  
Than ever heretofore, and so compel me  
Once more to wish to see her; though I use  
Persuasions mixed with threatenings; nay add to it  
That I this failing should with hands held up thus  
Kneel at your feet, and bathe them with my tears,  
Prayers or curses, vows or imprecations  
Only to look upon her though at distance,  
You still must be obdurate.  Montr. 
If it be  
Your pleasure sir that I shall be unmoved, I will endeavour.  Malef. 
You must swear to be  
Inexorable as you would prevent  
The greatest mischief to your friend, that fate  
Could throw upon him.  Montr. 
Well, I will obey you.  
But how the governor will be answered, yet  
And 'tis material, is not considered.  Malef. 
Leave that to me. I'll presently give order  
How you shall surprise her, be not frighted with  
Her exclamations.  Montr. 
Be you constant to  
Your resolution I will no fail  
In what concerns my part.  Malef. 
Be ever blessed for't.  Exeunt.  

Actus quarti,  
Scaena secunda.  Enter Beaufort jun. Chamont, Lanour. Cham. 
Not to be spoke with, say you?  Beauf. jun. 
No.  Lan. 
Nor you  
Admitted to have conference with her?  Beauf. jun. 
Neither.  
His doors are fast locked up, and solitude  
Dwells round about 'em, no access allowed  
To friend or enemy, but—  Cham. 
Nay be not moved sir,  
Let his passion work, and like a hot reined horse  
'T will quickly tire itself.  Beauf. jun. 
Or in his death  
Which for her sake till now I have forborn  
I will revenge the injury he hath done  
To my true and lawful love.  Lan. 
How does your father  
The Governor relish it?  Beauf. jun. 
Troth he never had  
Affection to the match: yet in his pity  
To me, he's gone in person to his house,  
Nor will he be denied, and if he find not  
Strong and fair reasons Malefort will hear from him  
In a kind he does not look for.  Cham. 
In the mean time  
Pray you put on cheerful looks.  Enter Montaigne. Beauf. jun. 
Mine suit my fortune.  Lan. 
O here's Montaigne.  Mont. 
I never could have met you  
More opportunely. I'll not stale the jest  
By my relation: but if you will look on  
The malcontent Belgarde, newly rigged up  
With the train that follows him, 't will be an object  
Worthy of your noting.  Beauf. jun. 
Look you the Comedy  
Make good the Prologue, or the scorn will dwell  
Upon yourself.  Mont. 
I'll hazard that, observe now;  Wenches. 
Nay, Captain, glorious Captain:  Enter Belgarde in a gallant habit; stays at the door with his sword drawn; several voices within. Belg. 
Fall back Rascals,  
Do you make an Owl of me? this day I will  
Receive no more Petitions,  
Here are bills of all occasions, and all fixes!  
If this be the pleasure of a rich suit, would I were  
Again in my buff jerkin, or my armour,  
Than I walked securely by my creditor's noses,  
And not a dog marked me, every officer shunned me,  
And not one lousy prison would receive me;  
But now, as the Ballad says, I am turned gallant:  
There does not live that thing I owe a souse to,  
But does torment me, a faithful Cobbler told me  
With his awl in his hand, I was behind hand with him  
For setting me upright, and bade me look to myself.  
A Sempstress too, that traded but in socks,  
Swore she would set a Sergeant on my back  
For a borrowed shirt: my pay and the benevolence,  
The Governor and the States bestowed upon me,  
The city cormorants, my money-mongers,  
Have swallowed down already, they were sums,  
I grant, but that I should be such a fool  
Against my oath, being a cashiered Captain,  
To pay debts, though grown up to one and twenty,  
Deserves more reprehension, in my judgement,  
Than a shopkeeper, or a Lawyer that lends money,  
In a long dead vacation.  Mont. 
How do you like  
His meditation?  Chamont. 
Peace, let him proceed.  Belg. 
I cannot now go on the score for shame,  
And where I shall begin to pawn, I marry,  
That is considered timely, I paid for  
This train of yours Dame ostrich fourteen crowns,  
And yet it is so light, 'twill hardly pass  
For a Tavern reckoning, unless it be  
To save the charge of painting, nailed on a post  
For the sign of the feathers; pox upon the fashion,  
That a Captain cannot think himself a Captain,  
If he wear not this like a fore-horse; yet it is not  
Staple commodity; these are perfumed too,  
Of the Roman wash, and yet a stale red herring  
Would fill the belly better, and hurt the head less:  
And this is Venice gold, would I had it again  
In french crowns in my pocket. O you commanders  
That like me have no dead paies, nor can cozen  
The Commissary at a muster, let me stand  
For an example to you, as you would  
Enjoy your privileges: videlicet,  
To pay your debts, and take your lechery gratis  
To have your issue warmed by others' fires,  
To be often drunk, and swear, yet pay no forfeit,  
To the poor, but when you share with one another,  
With all your other choice immunities,  
Only of this I seriously advise you:  
Let Courtiers trip like Courtiers,  
And your Lords of dirt and dung hills meet  
Their woods and acres, in velvets, satins, tissues,  
But keep you constant to doth and chamois,  Mont. 
Have you heard of such a penitent homily,  Belg. 
I am studying now  
Where I shall hide myself till the rumor of  
My wealth and bravery vanish, let me see,  
There is a kind of a vaulting house not far off,  
Where I used to spend my afternoons, among  
Suburb she-gamesters; and yet now I think on't  
I have cracked a ring or two there, which they made  
Others to solder, no,  Inter a Bawd and two wenches, with two children. 1. Wench. 
O, have we spied you.  Bawd. 
Upon him without ceremony, now the time  
While he is in the paying vein.  2. Wench. 
Save you brave Captain.  Beauf. jun. 
'Slight, how she stares, they are worse than she-wolves to him.  Belg. 
Shame me not in the streets, I was coming to you.  1. Wen. 
O Sir, you may in public pay for the fiddling  
You had in private.  2. Wen. 
We hear you are full of crowns, Sir.  1. Wen. 
And therefore knowing you are openhanded,  
Before all be destroyed, I'll put you in mind, Sir,  
Of your young heir here.  2. Wen. 
Here's a second, Sir,  
That looks for a child's portion.  Bawd. 
There are reckonings  
For Muskadine and eggs too, must be thought on.  1. Wen. 
We have not been hasty, Sir.  Bawd. 
But stayed your leisure;  
But now you are ripe, and laden with fruit.  2. Wen. 
'tis fit you should be pulled; here's a boy, Sir,  
Pray you kiss him, 'tis your own, Sir,  1. Wench. 
Nay, buss this first,  
It hath just your eyes, and such a promising nose,  
That if the sign deceive me not, in time  
'twill prove a notable striker, like his father.  Belg. 
And yet you laid it to another.  1. Wen. 
True,  
While you were poor, and it was policy,  
But she that has variety of fathers,  
And makes nor choice of him that can maintain it,  
ne'er studied Aristotle's Problems.  Lan. 
A smart quean.  Belg. 
Why branches will you worry me?  2. Wen. 
No, but ease you  
Of your golden burden, the heavy carriage may  
Bring you to a sweating sickness.  Belg. 
Very likely,  
I foam all over already.  1. Wen. 
Will you come off, Sir?  Belg. 
Would I had ne'er come on: hear me with patience,  
Or I will anger you. Go to, you know me  
And do not vex me further: by my sins  
And your diseases, which are certain truths,  
whate'er you think, I am not master at  
This instant, of a livre.  2. Wen. 
What, and in  
Such a glorious suit?  Belg. 
The liker wretched things  
To have no money.  Bawd. 
You may pawn your clothes, Sir,  1. Wen. 
Will you see your issue starve?  2. Wen. 
Or the mothers beg?  Belg. 
Why, you unconscionable strumpets, would you have me  
Transform my hat to double clouts and biggins?  
My corselet to a cradle? or my belt  
To swaddlebands? or turn my cloak to blankets?  
Or to sell my sword and spurs for soap and candles?  
Have you no mercy? what a chargeable devil  
We carry in our breeches?  Beauf. jun. 
Now 'tis time.  
To fetch him off.  Enter Beaufort sen. Mont. 
Your father does it for us.  Bawd. 
The Governor!  Beauf. sen. 
What are these?  1. Wen. 
And it like your Lordship,  
Very poor spinsters.  Bawd. 
I am his Nurse and Laundress,  Belg. 
You have nursed and laundered me, hell take you for it.  
Vanish.  Cham. 
Do, do, and talk with him hereafter.  1. Wen. 
'tis our best course  2. Wen. 
We'll find a time to fit him.  Exit Bawd and Whores. Beauf. sen. 
Why, In this heat, Belgarde  Belg. 
You are the cause of 't.  Beauf. sen 
Who, I?  Belg. 
Yes, your pied livery, and your gold  
Draw these vexations on me, pray you strip me  
And let me be as I was: I will not lose  
The pleasures and the freedom which I had  
In my certain poverty; for all the wealth  
Fair France is proud of?  Beauf. sen. 
we at better leisure  
Will learn the cause of this.  Beauf. jun. 
What answer, Sir,  
From the Admiral?  Beauf. sen. 
None, his daughter is removed  
To the sort of Montrevile, and he himself  
In person fled, but where is not discovered,  
I could tell you wonders, but the time denies me  
Fit liberty. In a word, let it suffice  
The power of our great master is contemned,  
The sacred laws of God and man profaned,  
And if I sit down with this injury,  
I am unworthy of my place, and thou  
Of my acknowledgement: draw up all the troops,  
As I go, I will instruct you to what purpose.  
Such as have power to punish, and yet spare  
From fear, or from connivance, others ill  
Though not in act assist them in their will  Exeunt.   

Actus quinti  

Scena prima.  Montrevile, Theocrine, servants. MONTREVILE. 
Bind them, and gag their mouths sure, I alone  
Will be your convoy.  1. Wom. 
Madam,  2. Wom. 
Dearest Lady,  Pag. 
Let me fight for my Mistress.  Serv. 
'tis in vain,  
Little cockerel of the kind.  Montr. 
Away with them,  
And do as I command you,  Theocr. 
Montrevile  Exeunt Servants, Page, Women. 
You are my father's friend, nay, more a soldier,  
And if a right one, as I hope to find you,  
Though in a lawful war you had surprised  
A City, that bowed humbly to your pleasure,  
In honour you stand bound to guard a virgin  
From violence; but in a free estate  
Of which you are a limb, to do a wrong  
Which noble enemies never consent to  
Is such an insolence.  Montr. 
How her heart beats!  
Much like a Partridge in a sparhawk's foot,  
That with a panting silence does lament  
The fate she cannot fly from! sweet, take comfort,  
You are safe, and nothing is intended to you  
But love and Service.  Theocr. 
They came never clothed  
In force, and outrage, upon what assurance  
(Remembering only that my father lives)  
Who will not tamely suffer the disgrace.  
Have you presumed to hurry me from his house,  
And as I were not worth the waiting on,  
To snatch me from the duty, and attendance  
Of my poor servants.  Montr. 
Let not that afflict you,  
You shall not want observance, I will be  
Your Page, your Woman, Parasite or Fool,  
Or any other property, provided  
You answer my affection.  Theocr. 
In what kind?  Montr. 
As you had done young Beaufort's.  Theocr. 
How?  Montr. 
So Lady,  
Or, if the name of wife appear a yoke  
Too heavy for your tender neck, so I  
Enjoy you as a private friend, or mistress,  
'twill be sufficient.  Theocr. 
Blessed Angels guard me  
What frontless impudence is this? What devil  
Hath to thy certain ruin tempted thee  
To offer me this motion? by my hopes  
Of after joys, submission, not repentance  
Shall expiate this soul intent.  Montr. 
Intent?  
'tis more, I'll make it act  Theocr. 
Ribald, thou darest not,  
And if (and with a fever to thy soul)  
Thou but consider that I have a father  
And such a father, as when this arrives at  
His knowledge, as it shall, the terror of  
His vengeance, which as sure as save must follow,  
Will make thee curse the hour in which lust caught thee  
To nourish these base hopes, and 'tis my wonder  
Thou darest forget how tender he is of me  
And that each shadow of wrong done to me  
Will raise in him a tempest not to be  
But with thy heartblood calmed: this when I see him.  Montr. 
As thou shalt never.  Theocr. 
Wilt thou murder me?  Montr. 
No, no, 'tis otherwise determined, fool,  
The master which in passion kills his slave  
That may be useful to him, does himself  
The injury: Know thou most wretched creature,  
That father thou presum'st upon, that father,  
That when I sought thee in a noble way,  
Denied thee to me, fancying in his hope  
A higher match from his excess of dotage,  
Hath in his bowels kindled such a flame  
Of impious most unnatural lost,  
That now he fears his furious desires,  
May force him to do that he shakes to think on.  Theocr. 
O me most wretched.  Montr. 
Never hope again  
To blast him with those eyes, their golden beams  
Are unto him arrows of death and hell,  
But unto me divine artillery.  
And therefore since what I so long in vain  
pursued, is offered to me, and by him  
Given up to my possession: do not flatter  
thyself with an imaginary hope,  
But that I'll take occasion by the forelock,  
And make use of my fortune; as we walk  
I'll tell the more.  Theocr. 
I will not stir.  Montr. 
I'll force thee:  Theocr. 
Help, help,  Montr. 
In vain,  Theocr. 
In me my brother's blood  
Is punished at the height.  Montr. 
The Coach there.  Theocr. 
Dear Sir,  Montr. 
Tears, curses, prayers, are alike to me,  
I can, and must enjoy my present pleasure,  
And shall take time to mourn for it at leisure.  Exit.  

Actus quinti,  
Scaena secunda.  Enter Malefort solus. Malef. 
I have played the fool, the gross fool, to believe  
The bosom of a friend will hold a secret,  
Mine own could not contain, and my industry  
In taking liberty from my innocent daughter,  
Out of false hopes of freedom to myself,  
Is in the little help it yields me, punished.  
she's absent, but I have her figure here,  
And every grace, and rarity about her,  
Are by the pencil of my memory  
In living colours painted on my heart.  
My fires too, a short interim closed up  
Break out with greater fury. Why was I  
Since 'twas my fate, and not to be declined  
In this so tender conscienced? Say I had  
Enjoyed what I desired, what had it been  
But incest? and there's something here that tells me  
I stand accountable for greater sins,  
I never checked at: neither had the crime  
Wanted a president. I have read in story  
Those first great Heroes that for their brave deeds  
Were in the world's first infancy styled gods,  
Freely enjoyed what I deny myself.  
Old Saturn in the golden age embraced  
His sister Ops and in the same degree  
The thunderer juno, Neptune, Thetis, and  
By their example after the first deluge  
Deucalion Pyrrha. Universal nature  
As every day 'tis evident allows it  
To creatures of all kinds. The gallant horse  
Covers the Mare to which he was the fire,  
The bird with fertile seed gives new increase  
To her that hatched him. Why should envious man then  
Brand that close act which adds proximity  
To what's most near him, with the abhorred title  
Of incest? or our later laws forbid  
What by the first was granted? let old men  
That are not capable of these delights  
And solemn superstitions fools prescribe  
Rules to themselves, I will not curb my freedom  
But constantly go on, with this assurance,  
I but walk in a path which greater men  
Have trod before me, ha this is the fort,  
Open the gate. Within there.  Enter two Soldiers with Muskets. 1 Sould. 
With your pardon  
We must forbid your entrance.  Mal. 
Do you know me?  2 Soul. 
Perfectly my Lord.  Mal. 
I am this captain's friend.  1 Sould. 
It may be so, but till we know his pleasure  
You must excuse us.  2 Sould. 
we'll acquaint him with  
Your waiting here.  Mont. 
Waiting slave, he was ever  
By me commanded.  1 Sould. 
As we are by him.  Montr. 
So punctual, pray you then in my name entreat  
His presence.  2 Sould. 
That we shall do.  Exeunt Soldiers. Mal. 
I must use  
Some strange persuasions to work him to  
Deliver her, and to forget her vows,  
And horrid oaths I in my madness made him.  
Take to the contrary, and may I get those  
Once more in my possession, I will bear her  
Into some close cave, or desert, where we'll end  
Our lusts and lives together.  Enter Montreville and soldiers. Montr. 
Fail not, on  
The forfeit of your lives to execute  
What I commanded.  Mal. Montrevile, 
how is't friend?  Mont. 
I am glad to see you wear such cheerful looks,  
The world's well altered.  Mal. 
Yes I thank my stars  
But methinks thou art troubled.  Mont. 
Some light cross,  
But of no moment.  Mal. 
So I hope, beware  
Of sad and impious thoughts, you know how far  
They wrought on me.  Mont. 
No such come near me sir.  
I have like you no daughter, and much wish  
You never had been cursed with one.  Ma. 
Who I?  
Thou art deceived, I am most happy in her.  Mont. 
I am glad to hear it.  Mal. 
My incestuous fires  
Towards her are quite burnt out, I love her now  
As a father, and no further.  Mont. 
Fix there then  
Your constant peace, and do not try a second  
Temptation from her.  Mal. 
Yes friend though she were  
By millions of degrees more excellent  
In her perfections, Nay though she could borrow  
A form Angel call to take my frailty  
It would not do, and therefore Montrevile  
(My chief delight next her) I come to tell thee  
The governor and I are reconciled,  
And I confirmed, and with all possible speed  
To make large satisfaction to young Beaufort  
And her whom I have so much wronged, and for  
thy trouble in her custody, of which  
I'll now discharge thee, there is nothing in  
My nerves or fortunes, but shall ever be  
At thy devotion.  Montr. 
You promise faintly,  
Nor doubt I the performance, yet I would not  
Hereafter be reported, to have been  
The principal occasion of your falling  
Into a relapse, or but suppose out of  
The easiness of my nature, and assurance  
You are firm, and can hold out, I could consent:  
You needs must know there are so many lets  
That make against it, that it is my wonder  
You offer me the motion, having bound me  
With oaths and imprecations on no terms,  
Reasons, or arguments, you could propose,  
I ever should admit you to her sight,  
Much less restore her to you.  Male. 
Are we soldiers, and stand on oaths?  Montr. 
'tis beyond my knowledge  
In what we are more worthy, then in keeping  
Our words, much more our vows.  Malef. 
Heaven pardon all,  
How many thousands in our heat of wine,  
Quarrels and play, and in our younger days  
(In private, I may say) between ourselves  
In points of love, have we to answer for,  
Should we be scrupulous that way.  Montr. 
You say well,  
And very aptly call to memory  
Two oaths against all ties and rites of friendship  
Broken by you to me.  Malef. 
No more of that.  Montr. 
Yes 'tis material, and to the purpose  
The first (and think upon't) was when I brought you  
As a visitant to my mistress then, the mother  
Of this same daughter, whom with dreadful words  
Too hideous to remember, you swore deeply  
For my sake never to attempt, yet then,  
Then, when you had a sweet wife of your own,  
I know not with what arts, philtres, and charms,  
(Unless in wealth and fame you were above me)  
You won her from me, and her grant obtained,  
A marriage with the second waited on,  
The burial of the first (that to the world  
Brought your dead son) this I sat tamely down by,  
Wanting indeed occasion and power  
To be at the height revenged.  Malef. 
Yet this you seemed  
Freely to pardon.  Montr. 
As perhaps I did.  
Your daughter Theocrine growing ripe,  
(Her mother too deceased) and fit for marriage  
I was a suitor for her, had your word  
Upon your honour, and our friendship made  
Authentical, and ratified with an oath,  
She should be mine, but vows with you being like  
To your religion, a nose of wax  
To be turned every way, that very day  
The governor's son but making his approaches  
Of Courtship to her, the wind of your ambition  
For her advancement scattered the thin sand  
In which you wrote your full consent to me,  
And drew you to his party. What hath passed since  
You bear a register in your own bosom  
That can at large inform you.  Malef. 
Montrevile  
I do confess all that you charge me with  
To be strong truth, and that I bring a cause  
Most miserably guilty, and acknowledge  
That though your goodness made me mine own judge  
I should not show the least compassion,  
Or mercy to myself. O let not yet  
My foulness taint your pureness, or my falsehood  
Divert the torrent of your loyal faith.  
My ills, if not returned by you, will add  
Lustre to your much good, and to o'ercome  
With noble sufferance will express your strength,  
And triumph o'er my weakness. If you please to  
My black deeds being only known to you,  
And in surrendering up my daughter buried:  
You not alone make me your slave (for I  
At no part do deserve the name of friend)  
But in your own breast raise a monument  
Of pity to a wretch on whom with justice  
You may express all cruelty.  Mont. 
You much move me.  Mal. 
O that I could but hope it, to revenge  
An injury is proper to the wishes  
Of feeble women, that want strength to act it:  
But to have power to punish, and yet pardon  
Peculiar to Princes, see these knees,  
That have been ever stiff to bend to heaven  
To you are supple, Is there ought beyond this  
That may speak my submission? or can pride  
(Though I well know it is a stranger to you)  
Desire a feast of more humility  
To kill her growing appetite?  Mont. 
I required not  
To be sought to this poor way, yet 'tis so far  
A kind of satisfaction that I will  
Dispense a little with those serious oaths  
You made me take, your daughter shall come to you,  
I will not say as you delivered her,  
But as she is you may dispose of her  
As you shall think most requisite.  Exit Montrevile. Mal. 
His last words are riddles to me.  
Here the lion's force  
Would have proved useless and against my nature  
Compelled me from the Crocodile to borrow  
Her counterfeit tears, there's now no there there,  
May I but quench these fires that rage within me, 
The soldiers thrust forth Theocrine, her garments loose, her hair disheveled.   
And fall what can fall, I am armed to bear is,  2 Sould. 
You must be packing  Theo. 
Hath he robbed me of  
Mine honour, and denies me now a room  
To hide my shame?  2 Sould. 
My Lord the Admiral  
Attends your Ladyship.  1 Sould. 
Close the port, and leave 'em.  Exeunt soldier. Mal. 
Ha! who is this? how altered! how deformed!  
It cannot be. And yet this creature has  
A kind of a resemblance to my daughter,  
My Theocrine! but as different  
From that she was, as bodies dead are in  
Their best perfections, from what they were  
When they had life and motion.  Theo. 
'tis most true fir,  
I am dead indeed to all but misery.  
O come not near me sir, I am infectious,  
To look on me at distance is as dangerous  
As from a pinnacle's cloud-kissing spire,  
With giddy eyes to view the steep descent  
But to acknowledge me a certain ruin.  
O sir.  Mal. 
Speak Theocrine, force me not  
To farther question, my fears already  
Have choked my vital spirits.  Theo. 
Pray you turn away  
Your face and hear me, and with my last breath  
Give me leave to accuse you. What offence  
From my first infancy did I commit  
That for a punishment you should give up  
My Virgin chastity to the treacherous guard  
Of Goatish Montrevile?  Mal. 
What hath be done?  Theo. 
Abused me fir by violence, and this told  
I cannot live to speak more: may the cause  
In you find pardon, but the speeding curse  
Of a ravished maid fall heavy, heavy on him,  
Beaufort my lawful love, farewell for ever.  She dies. Malef. 
Take not thy flight so soon immaculate spirit.  
'tis fled already, how the innocent  
As in a gentle slumber pass away,  
But to cut off the knotty thread of life  
In guilty men, must force stern Atropos  
To use her sharp knife often. I would help  
The edge of hers with the sharp point of mine  
But that I dare not die, till I have rent  
This dog's heart piecemeal. O that I had wings  
To scale these walls, or that my hands were Canons  
To bore their flinty sides, that I might bring  
The villain in the reach of my good sword,  
The Turkish Empire offered for his ransom  
Should not redeem his life. O that my voice  
Were loud as thunder and with horrid sounds  
Might force a dreadful passage to his ears,  
And through them reach his soul, libidinous monster  
Foul ravisher, as thou durst do a deed  
Which forced the Sun to hide his glorious face  
Behind a sable Masque of clouds appear,  
And as a man defend it, or like me  
Show some compunction for it.  Montrevile above the curtain, suddenly drawn. Montr. 
Ha, ha, ha.  Malef. 
Is this an object to raise mirth?  Montr. 
Yes, yes.  Malef. 
My daughter's dead.  Mont. 
Thou hadst best follow her,  
Or if thou art the thing thou art reported,  
Thou shouldst have led the way. Do tear thy hair  
like a village nurse, and mourn while I laugh at thee.  
Be but a just examiner of thyself  
And in an equal balance poise the nothing  
Or little mischief I have done compared  
With the ponderous weight of thine, and how canst thou  
Accuse or argue with me? mine was a rape  
And she being in a kind contracted to me,  
The fact may challenge some qualification:  
But thy intent made nature's self run backward,  
And done, had caused an earthquake.  A soldier above. 1. Sold. 
Captain.  Montr. 
Ha,  2. Sold. 
Our outworks are surprised, the centinel slain,  
The corpse du garde defeated too.  Montr. 
By whom?  1. Sold. 
The sudden storm and darkness of the night  
Forbids the knowledge, make up speedily,  
Or all is lost.  Montr. 
In the dive is name, whence comes this!  They descend. Mal. 
Do, do, rage on, rend open AEolus  
Thy brazen prison, and let loose at once  
Thy stormy issue blustering Boreas,  A storm. 
Aided with all the gales, the Pilot numbers  
Upon his compass, cannot raise a tempest  
Through the vast region of the air, like that  
I feel within me: for I am possessed  
With whirlwinds, and each guilty thought to me is  
A dreadful Hurricano; though this centre  
Labour to bring forth earthquake, and bell open  
Her wide stretched jaws, and let out all her furies,  
They cannot add an atom to the mountain  
Of fears and terrors that each minute threaten  
To fall on my accursed head. Ha, is't fancy?  Enter the Ghost of young Malefort, naked from the waist full of wounds, lend in the shadow of a lady, her face leprous. 
Or hath hell heard me, and makes proof if I  
Dare stand the trial? yes, I do, and now  
I view these apparitions I feel,  
I once did know the substances For what come you?  
Are your aerial form deprived of language,  
And so denied to tell me? that by signs  
You bid me ask here of myself? 'tis so  The Ghosts use several gestures. 
And there is something here makes answer for you.  
You come to lance my seared up conscience? Yes,  
And to instruct me, that those thunderbolts,  
That hurled me headlong from the height of glory,  
Wealth, honours, worldly happiness, were forged  
Upon the anvil of my impious wrongs  
And cruelty to you? I do confess it;  
And that my lust compelling me to make way  
For a second wife, I poisoned thee, and that  
The cause (which to the world is undiscovered)  
That forced thee to shake off thy filial duty  
To me thy father, had its spring and source  
From thy impatience to know thy mother,  
That with all duty, and obedience served me  
(For now with horror I acknowledge it)  Answered still by signs. 
Removed unjustly: yet thou being my son,  
Were't not a competent judge marked out by heaven  
For her revenger, which thy falling by  
My weaker hand confirmed. 'tis granted by thee.  
Can any penance expiate my guilt?  
Or can repentance save me? they are vanished.  Exeunt Ghosts. 
What's left to do then? I'll accuse my face  
That did not fashion me for nobler uses  
Or if those stars cross to me in my birth,  
Had not denied their prosperous influence to it  
With peace of conscience like to innocent men,  
I might have ceased to be, and not as now,  
To curse my cause of being.  He's killed with a flash of lightning. Enter Belgarde with soldiers Belg. 
Here is a night  
To season my silks. Buff-jerkin, now I miss thee,  
Thou hast endured many foul nights, but never  
One like to this; how fine my feather looks now!  
Just like a capon's tail stolen out of the pen  
And hid in the sink, and yet't had been dishonour  
To have charged me without it, wilt thou fever cease,  
Is the petard, as I gave directions, fastened  
On the portcullis?  Another Sold. 
It hath been attempted  
By divers, but in vain.  Belg. 
These are your gallants,  
That at a feast take the first place, poor I,  
Hardly allowed to follow; marry in  
These foolish businesses they are content  
That I shall have precedence, I much thank  
Their manners, or their fear; second me Soldier,  
They have had no time to undermine, or if  
They have, it is blowing up, and fetching  
A caper or two in the air, and I will do it,  
Rather than blow my nails here.  Sold. 
O brave Captain!  Exeunt. An alarum noise and cries within, a flourish. Enter Beaufort senior: Beaufort junior: Montague: Chamont: Lanour: Belgarde: Montrevile: Soldiers. Montr. 
Racks cannot force more from me than I have  
Already told you. I expect no favour  
I have cast up my account.  Beauf. sen. 
Take you the charge  
Of the fort Belgarde, your dangers have deserved it.  Belg. 
I thank your excellence, this will keep me safe yet  
From being pulled by the sleeve, and bid remember  
The thing I wot of.  Beau. jun. 
All that have eyes to weep,  
Spare one tear with me. Theocrine's dead,  Montr. 
Her father too lies breathless here, I think,  
Struck dead with thunder.  Cham. 
'Tis apparent: how  
His carcase smells.  Lan. 
His face is altered to  
Another colour.  Beauf. jun. 
But here's one retained  
Her native innocence, that never yet  
Called down heaven's anger.  Beauf. sen. 
'tis in vain to mourn  
For what's past help. We will refer bad man  
Your sentence to the King: may we make use of  
This great example, and learn from it, that  
There cannot be a want of power above  
To punish murder, and unlawful love.  Exeunt omnes. 
FINIS.     

Imprimatur.  
THO.. WYKES IAN. 21. 1638.