THE heir AN EXCELLENT comedy.  
As it was lately Acted by the Company of the Revels.  
Written by T. M. Gent.  
LONDON, Printed by B. A. for Thomas jones, and are to be sold at his shop in Chancery-lane, over-against the rolls, and in Westminster Hall.   

TO MY HONOURED friend, master Thomas May, upon his Comedy, The Heir.  
THe Heir being borne, was in his tender age  
Rocked in the Cradle of a private Stage,  
Where lifted up by many a willing hand,  
The child doth from the first day fairly stand,  
Since, having gathered strength, he dares prefer  
His steps into the public Theater  
The World: where he despairs not but to find  
A doom from men more able, but less kind.  
I but his Usher am, yet if my word  
May pass, I dare be bound he will afford  
Things must deserve a welcome, it well known  
Such as best writers would have wished their own.  
You shall observe his words in order meet,  
And often stealing on, with equal feet  
Slide into equal numbers, with such grace  
As each word had been moulded for that place.  
You shall perceive an amorous passion, spun  
Into so smooth a web, as had the sun,  
When he pursued the swiftly flying Maid,  
Courted her in such language she had stayed,  
A love so well expressed must be the same,  
The Author felt himself from his fair flame.  
The whole plot doth like itself disclose  
Through the five Acts, as doth a Look, that goes  
With letters, for till every one be known,  
The Lock's as fast as if you had found none.  
And where his sportive Muse doth draw a thread  
Of mirth, chaste Matrons may not blush to read.  
av have I thought it fitter to reveal  
My want of art (dear friend) then to conceal  
My love. It did appear I did not mean  
av to commend thy well-wrought comic-scene,  
As men might judge my arm rather to be,  
To gaine myself to,, then give it thee;  
Though I can give thee none but what thou hast  
deserved, and what must my faint breath outlast.  
av was this garment (though I skill-less be  
To take thy measure) only made for thee,  
cc if it proue to scant, 'tis cause the stuff  
Nature allowed me, was not large enough.  
Thomas Caron   

AN EXCELLENT COMEDY CALLED the Heir.  
Enter Polimetes, Roscio. Pol. 
ROscio.  Ro. 
My Lord.  Pol. 
Hast thou divulged the news  
That my son died at Athens.  Ros. 
Yes my Lord,  
With every circumstance, the time, the place,  
And manner of his death; that it is believed  
And told for news with as much confidence  
As if 'twere writ in Gallobelgicus.  Pol. 
That's well, that's very well, now Roscio  
Follows my part, I must express a grief  
Not usual, not like a well left heir  
For his dead father, or a lusty Widow  
For her old husband, must I counterfeit,  
But in a deeper, a far deeper strain  
Weep like a Father for his only son,  
Is not that hard to do, ha, Roscio?  Ro. 
Oh no my Lord,  
Not for your skill, has not your Lordship seen  
A player personate jeronimo?  Pol. 
By th'mass 'tis true, I have seen the knave paint grief  
In such a lively colour, that for false  
And acted passion he has drawn true tears  
From the spectator's eyes, Ladies in the boxes  
Kept time with sighs, and tears to his sad accents  
As had he truly been the new man he seemed.  
Well then I'll ne'er despair; but tell me thou  
Thou that hast still been privy to my bosom,  
How will this project take?  Rosc. 
Rarely my Lord,  
when now my thinks, I see your Lordship's house  
Is with suitors of the noblest rank,  
And my young Lady your supposed Heir  
Tired more with wooing then the Grecian Queen  
In the long absence of her wandering Lord.  
There's not a ruinous nobility  
In all this kingdom, but conceives a hope  
Now to rebuild his fortunes on this match.  Pol. 
Those are not they I look for, no, my nets  
Are spread for other game, the rich and greedy  
Those that have wealth enough, yet gape for more  
They are for me,  Ros 
Others will come my Lord,  
All sorts of fish will press upon your nets,  
Then in your Lordship's wisdom it must lie  
To cull the great ones, and reject the fry.  Pol. 
Nay fear not that, there's none shall have access  
To see my daughter, or to speak to her,  
But such as I approve, and aim to catch.  Ro. 
The jest will be, my Lord, when you shall see  
How your aspiring suitors will put on  
The face of greatness, and belie their fortunes  
Consume themselves in show, wasting like Merchants  
Their present wealth in rigging a fair ship  
For some ill venture de voyage, that undoes 'em.  
Here comes a youth with letters from the Court,  
Bought of some favourite at such a price  
As will for ever sink him, yet alas  
All's to no purpose, he must lose the prize.  Pol. 
This was a jest well thought of, the conceit  
Will feed me fat, with sport that it shall make,  
Besides the large adventures it brings home  
Unto my daughter. How now. enter servant  Ser. 
My Lord, Count Virro is come to see you.  Pol. 
Conduct him in; So, so, it takes already  
See Roscio see, this is the very man  
My project aimed at, the rich Count that knows  
No end of his large wealth, yet gapes for more  
There was no other loadstone could attract  
His Iron heart, for could beauty have moved him,  
Nature has been no niggard to my girl,  
But I must to my grief, here comes the Count.  Enter Count Virro. Vir. 
Is your Lord asleep?  Ro. 
No Sir.  
I think not, my Lord, Count Virro.  Vir. 
How do you Sir.  Pol. 
I do entreat your Lordship pardon, my grief and some want of sleep have made me at this time unmannerly, not fit to entertain guests of your worth.  Vir 
Alas Sir I know your grief.  Ro. 
'twas that that fetched you hither. aside.  Vir. 
You've lost a worthy and a hopeful son,  
But heaven that always gives, will sometimes take  
And that the best, there is no balsam left us  
To cure such wounds as these but patience,  
There's no disputing with the acts of heaven,  
But if there were, in what could you accuse  
Those powers that else have been so liberal to you,  
And left you yet one comfort in your age:  
A fair and virtuous daughter.  Ros. 
Now it begins.  Vir. 
Your blood is not extinct, nor your age childless, from that fair branch that's left may come much fruit to glad posterity, think on that my Lord.  Pol. 
Nay heaven forbid I should repine at what the  
justice of those powers ordain, it has pleased  
Them to confine my care only to one, and to  
See her well bestowed is all the comfort I now  
Must look for, but if it had pleased heaven that  
My son, ah my Eugenio. he weeps.  Vir. 
Alas good Gentleman.  Ros. 
Fore heaven he does it rarely.  Vir, 
But Sir, remember yourself, remember your  
Daughter, let not your grief for the dead make  
You forget the living, whose hopes, and fortunes  
Depend upon your safety.  Pol. 
Oh my good Lord, you never had a soon.  Ros. 
Unless they were bastards, and for them no  
Doubt but he has done as other Lords do.  Pol. 
And therefore cannot tell what 'tis to lose  
A son, a good son, and an only son.  Vir. 
I would, my Lord, I could as well redress  
As I can take compassion of your grief  
You should soon find an ease.  Pol. 
Pray Pardon me my Lord, if I forget myself toward you at this time, if it please you visit my house ofter you shall be welcome.  Vir. 
You would fain sleep my Lord, I'll take my leave Heaven send you comfort, I shall make bold shortly to visit you.  Pol. 
You shall be wondrous welcome,  
Wait on my Lord out there. exit Virro.  
So now he's gone, how thinkst thou Roscio,  
Will not this Gudgeon bite?  Ro. 
No doubt my Lord,  
So fair a bait would catch a cunning fish.  Po. 
And such a one is he, he ever loved  
The beauty of my girl, but that's not it  
Can draw the earth bred thoughts of his gross soul  
Gold is the God of his idolatry,  
With hope of which I'll feed him, till at length  
I make him fasten, and Ixion like  
For his loved juno grasp an empty cloud.  Ros. 
How stands my young Lady affected to him.  Pol. 
There's all the difficulty, we must win her to love him, I doubt the peevish Girl will think him too old, he's well near threescore: in this business I must leave somewhat to thy wit and care, praise him beyond all measure.  Ros. 
Your Lordship ever found me trusty.  Pol. 
If thou effect it, I will make thee happy. exeunt  Enter Philocles, Clerimont. Phi. 
Eugenio's sister then is the rich heir  
By his decease.  Cler. 
Yes, and the fair one too,  
She needs no gloss that fortune can set on her,  
Her beauty of itself were prize enough  
To make a king turn beggar for.  Phil. 
Hoy day,  
What in love Clerimont, I lay my life 'tis so,  
Thou couldst not praise her with such passion else.  Cler. 
I know not, but I slept well enough last night,  
But if thou sawst her once, I would not give  
A farthing for thy life, I tell thee Philocles'  
One fight of her would make thee cry, ay me,  
Sigh, and look pale, methinks I do imagine  
How like an Idolatrous lover thou wouldst look  
Through the eyelids, know nobody.  Phi. 
'tis very well, but how did your worship scape  
You have seen her.  Cler. 
True, but I have an  
Antidote, and I can teach it thee.  Phi. 
When  
I have need on't I'll desire it.  Cler. 
And 'twill  
Be worth thy learning, when thou shalt see the  
Tyranny of that same scurvy boy, and what fools  
He makes of us; shall I describe the beast?  Phi. 
What beast?  Cler. 
A lover.  Phi. 
Do.  Cler. 
Then to be brief, I will pass over the opinion of your ancient fathers, as likewise those strange Loves spoken of in the Authentic histories of chivalry Amadis du Gaul, Parismus, the Knight of the Sun, or the witty Knight Don Quixot de la Manca, where those brave men, neither Enchantments, Giants, Windmills, nor flocks of sheep could vanquish, are made the trophies of triumphing love.  Phi. 
Prithee come to the matter.  Cler. 
Neither will I mention the complaints of Sir Guy for the fair Phelis, nor the travels of Parismus for the love of the beauteous Laurana, nor lastly, the most sad penance of the ingenious knight Don Quixot upon the mountains of sierra Morenna, moved by the unjust disdain of the Lady Dulcinea del Toboso, as for our modern Authors, I will not so much as name them, no not that excellent treatise of Tully's Love, written by the Master of Art.  Phi. 
I would thou wouldest pass over this passing over of Authors, and speak thine own judgement.  Cler. 
Why then to be brief, I think a Lover looks like an Ass.  Phi. 
I can describe him better than so myself, he looks like a man that had sitten up at Cards all night, or a stale Drunkard wakened in the midst of his sleep.  Cler. 
But Philocles, I would not have thee see this Lady, she has a bewitching look.  Phi. 
How darest thou venture man, what strange medicine hast thou found, Ovid near taught it thee, I doubt I guess thy remedy, for love, go to a bawdy house or so, is't not?  Cler. 
Faith, and that's a good way I can tell you, we younger brothers are beholding to it, alas we must not fall in love and choose whom we like best, we have no jointures for 'em, as you blessed heirs can have.  Phi. 
Well I have found you Sir, and prithee tell me, how got'st thou Wenches?  Cler. 
Why I can want no Panders, I lie in the Constable's house.  Phi. 
And there you may whore by authority,  
But Clerimont, I doubt this Paragon  
That thou so praisest, is some ill favoured Wench  
Whom thou wouldst have me laugh at for commending.  Cler. 
By heaven I spoke in earnest, trust your eyes,  
I'll show you her.  Phi. 
How canst thou do it?  
Thou know'st this lady's father is to mine  
A deadly enemy, nor is his house,  
Open to any of our kindred.  Cler. 
That's no matter,  
My lodge's the next door to this Lords house,  
And my back Window looks into his Garden,  
There every morning fair Leucothoe,  
(For so I hear her named) walking alone,  
To please her senses makes Aurora blush,  
To see on brighter than her soft appear.  Phi. 
Well I will see her there. Exeunt.  Enter Franklin, Fancisco, Luce gravida. Franc. 
Yet for her sake be advised better Sir,  Frank. 
Impudent Rascal, canst look me i'th' face,  
And know how thou hast wronged me, thou hast  
Dishonoured my Daughter, made a whore on her.  Franc. 
Gentle Sir,  
The wrong my love has made to your fair Daughter  
'tis now too late to wish undone again,  
But if you please, it may be yet closed up  
Without dishonour, I will marry her.  Frank. 
Marry her, she has a hot catch of that, marry a Beggar, what jointure canst thou make her?  Franc. 
Sir I am poor I must confess,  
Fortune has blessed you better, but I swear  
By all things that can bind, 'twas not your wealth  
Was the foundation of my true built love,  
It was her single uncompounded self,  
herself without addition that I loved,  
Which shall for ever in my sight outweigh  
All other women's fortunes, and themselves,  
And were I great, as great as I could wish  
myself for her advancement, no such bar  
As Fortune's inequality should stand  
Betwixt our loves.  Luce. 
Good Father hear me.  Frank. 
Dost thou not blush to call me father, Strumpet I'll make thee an example.  Luce. 
But hear me  
Sir, my shame will be your own.  Frank. 
No more I say, Francisco leave my house, I charge You come not here.  Franc. 
I must obey and will,  
Dear Luce be constant.  Luce. 
Till death  Exit Francisco. Frank. 
Here's a fine wedding towards, the  
Bridegroom when he comes for his bride,  
Shall find her great with child by another man,  
Passion a me minion, how have you hid it so long?  Luc. 
Fearing your anger Sit, I strived to hide it.  Frank. 
Hide it one day more then, or be damned,  
Hide it till Shallow be married to thee,  
And then let him do his worst.  Lu. 
Sir I should too much wrong him.  Frank. 
Wrong him, there be great Ladies have done the like, 'tis no news to see a bride with child.  Lu. 
Good Sir.  Frank. 
Then be wise, lay the child to him, he's a rich man, tother's a beggar.  Lu. 
I dare not Sir.  Frank. 
Do it I say, and he shall father it.  Lu. 
He knows he never touch me Sir.  Frank. 
That's all one, lay it to him, we'll out face him 'tis his: but hark, he is coming, I hear the Music, swear thou wilt do thy best to make him think 'tis his, swear quickly.  Lu. 
I do.  Frank. 
Go step aside, and come when thy que is, thou shalt hear us talk. Luce aside.  Enter Shallow with Music. Sha. 
Morrow Father.  Frank. 
Son bridegroom welcome, you have been looked for here.  Sha. 
My Tailor a little disappointed me, but is my Bride ready.  Frank. 
Yes long ago, but you and I will talk a little, send in your Music.  Sha. 
Go wait within, and tell me father, did she not  
Think it long till I came.  Frank, 
I warrant  
Her she did, she loves you not a little.  Sha. 
Nay that I dare swear, she has given me many  
Tastes of her affection.  Frank. 
What before you  
Were married.  Sha. 
I mean, in the way  
Of honesty father.  Fran. 
Nay that I doubt,  
Young wits love to be trying, and to say  
Truth, I see not how a woman can deny a man  
Of your youth and person upon those terms,  
You'll not be known on't now.  Shal. 
I have kissed  
Her or so.  Fran. 
Come, come, I know you are no  
Fool, I should think you a very Ass, nay I tell  
You plainly, I should be loath to marry my  
Daughter to you if I thought you had not tried  
Her in so long acquaintance, but you have tried  
Her, and she poor soul could not deny you.  Sha. 
Ha ha hae.  Frank. 
Faith tell me son, 'tis but a  
Merry question, she's yours.  Sha. 
Upon my  
Virginity father.  Frank. 
Swear not by that,  
I'll ne'er believe you.  Sha. 
Why then as I am  
A Gentleman I never did it that I remember.  Frank. 
That you remember, oh is't thereabouts.  Luc. 
he'll take it upon him presently.  Frank. 
You have been so familiar with her,  
You have forgot the times, but did you never  
Come in half fuddled, and then in a kind humour,  
Caetera quis nescit.  Sha. 
Indeed I was wont to serve my mother's maids so when I came half foxed as you said, and then next morning I should laugh to myself.  Frank. 
Why there it goes, I thought to have chid you son Shallow, I knew what you had done, 'tis too apparent, I would not have people take notice of it pray God she hide her great belly as she goes to Church today.  Sha. 
Why father is she with child?  Frank. 
As if you knew not that, fie, fie, leave your dissembling now.  Sha. 
Sure it cannot be mine.  Frank. 
How's this, you would not make my daughter a whore, would you? this is but to try if you can stir my choler, your wits have strange tricks, do things over night when you are merry, and then deny 'em. But stay, here she comes alone, step aside, she shall not see us,  they step aside. Lu. 
Ah my dear Shallow, thou needst not have made  
Such haste, my heart thou knowest was firm enough  
To thee, but I may blame my own fond love,  
That could not deny thee.  Shal. 
She's with child indeed, it swells,  Fran. 
You would not believe me, 'tis a good wench,  
She does it handsomely.  Luc. 
But yet I know if  
Thou hadst been thyself, thou wouldst near have  
Offered it, 'twas drink that made thee.  Shal. 
Yes sure, I was drunk when I did it, for I had  
Forgot it, I lay my life 'twill prove a girl  
Because 'twas got in drink.  Lu. 
I am ashamed to see anybody.  Frank. 
Alas poor wretch, go comfort her, Luce.  Shal. 
Sweet heart, nay never be ashamed, I was a little too hasty, but I'll make thee amends, we'll be married presently.  Fran. 
Be cheery Luce, you were man and wife before, it wanted but the ceremony of the Church, and that shall be presently done.  Shal. 
I ay, sweet heart, as soon as may be.  Frank. 
But now I think on't son Shallow, your wedding must not now be public, as we intended it.  Shal. 
Why so?  Frank. 
Because I would not have people take notice of this fault, we'll go to Church, only we three, the Minister and the clerk, that's witnesses enough, so the time being unknown, people will think you were married before.  Shal. 
But will it stand with my worship to be married in private.  Frank. 
Yes, yes, the greatest do it, when they have been nibbling before hand, there is no other way to save your Bride's credit.  Shal. 
Come let's about it presently.  Frank. 
This is closed up beyond our wishes.  Exeunt, manet Luce. Luc. 
I am undone, unless, thy wit Francisco,  
Can find some means to free me from this fool,  
Who would have thought the sot could be so gross  
To take upon him what he never did,  
To his own shame, I'll send to my Francisco,  
And I must lose no time, for I am dead,  
If not delivered from this loathed bed.   

Actus secundus.  Enter Philocles, Clerimont at the window. Cler. 
SEE Philocles, yonder's that happy shade,  
That often veils the fair Lucothoe,  
And this her usual hour, she'll not be long,  
Than thou shalt tell me, if so rare an object  
Ere blessed thine eyes before.  Phil. 
Well, I would see her once,  
Wert but to try thy judgement Cleremont.  Cler. 
And when thou dost, remember what I told thee,  
I would not be so sick, but soft look to thy heart,  
Yonder she comes, and that's her waiting woman.  Leucothoe and Psecas in the garden. 
Now gaze thy fill, speak man how likest thou her.  Leu. 
Psecas.  Psecas. 
Madam.  Leu. 
What flower was that  
That thou wert telling such a story of  
Last night to me.  Pse. 
'tis call Narcissus Madam.  
It bears the name of that too beauteous boy,  
That lost himself by loving of himself,  
Who viewing in affair and crystal stream  
Those lips that only he could never kiss,  
Dotes on the shadow, which to reach in vain  
Striving, he drowns thus scorning all beside  
For the loved shadow the fairer substance died.  Leu. 
Fie fie, I like not these impossible tales,  
A man to fall in love with his own shadow,  
And died for love, it is most ridiculous.  Pse. 
Madam I know not, I have often seen  
Both men and women court the looking glass  
With so much seeming contentation,  
That I could think this true, nay wear it about 'em  
As lovers do their Mistress counterfeit.  Leu. 
That's not for love, but to correct their beauties  
And draw from others admiration,  
For all the comfort that our faces give  
Unto ourselves is but reflection  
Of that fair liking that another takes.  Cler. 
I would we were a little nearer 'em  
We might but hear what talk these wenches have  
When they are alone, I warrant some good stuff.  Phi. 
'tis happiness enough for me to see  
The motion of her lips.  Cler. 
i'faith is't thereabouts.  
Why Philocles, what lost already man,  
Struck dead with one poor glance, look up for shame  
And tell me how thou likest my judgement now,  
Now thou dost see.  Phi. 
Ah Cleremont too well,  
Too well I see what I shall never taste,  
You lady's beauty: she must needs be cruel  
(Though her fair shape deny it) to the son  
Of him that is her father's enemy,  
That, Cleremont, that fatal difference  
Cheques my desire, and sinks my rising hopes,  
But love's a torrent violent if stopped,  
And I am desperately mad: I must  
I must be hers, or else I must not be.  Cler. 
Contain that passion that will else overwhelm  
All virtue in you, all that is called man,  
And should be yours, take my advice my heart  
My life to second you, let us consult,  
You may find time to speak to her and woe her.  Phi. 
May, nay I will in spite of destiny,  
Let women and faint hearted fools complain  
In languishing despair, a manly love  
Dares show itself and press to his desires  
Through thickest troops of horrid opposites,  
Were there a thousand waking Dragons set  
To keep that golden fruit: I would attempt  
To pluck and taste it, 'tis the danger crown  
A brave achievement: what if I should go  
And boldly woo her in her father's house  
In spite enmity, what could they say?  Cle. 
'twere madness that not wisdom rash attempts  
Betray the means, but never work the end.  Phi. 
She would not hate a man for loving her,  
Or if she did, better be once deemed  
Then live for ever hapless.  Cle. 
But take time,  
The second thoughts our wise men say are best.  Pli. 
Delaye's a double death, no I have thought  
A means, that straight I'll put in execution,  
I'll write a Letter to her presently,  
Take how it will.  Cle. 
A Letter, who shall carry it?  Pli. 
I'll tell thee when I have done, hast thou Pen and Ink in thy Chamber.  Cle. 
Yes, there is one upon the Table, I'll stay here at the window, and watch whether she stay or not, what a sudden change is this.  Leu. 
Did not count Virro promise to be here  
Today at dinner.  Pse. 
Yes madam that he did, and I dare swear  
He will not break.  Leu. 
He needs not, he is rich enough, unless  
He should break in knavery, as some of our Merchants do now adays.  Pse. 
Break promise madam I mean, & that he will not  
For your sake, you know his business.  Leu. 
I would I did not, he might spare his pains  
And that unusual cost, that he bestows  
In pranking up himself, and please me better  
He would not please his tailor and his barber,  
For they got more for your sake by their Lord  
Then they got this twenty years before.  Leu. 
Ah Psecas, Psecas, can my father think  
That I can love Count Virro, one so old  
(That were enough to make a match unfit)  
But one so base, a man that never loved  
For any thing called good, but dross and pelf,  
One that would never, had my brother lived  
Have moved this suit, no I can never love him,  
But canst thou keep a secret firmly Psecas.  Pse. 
Doubt me not madam.  Leu. 
Well I'll tell thee then,  
I love, alas, I dare not say I love him,  
But there's a young and noble Gentleman,  
Lord Euphues son, my father's enemy.  
A man whom nature's prodigality  
Stretched even to envy in the making up,  
Once from a Window my pleased eye beheld  
This youthful Gallant as he rode the street,  
On a curvetting Courser, who it seemed  
Knew his fair load, and with a proud disdain  
Checked the base earth, my father being by  
I asked his name, he told me Philocles,  
The son and Heir of his great enemy:  
judge Psecas then, how my divided breast,  
Suffered between two meeting contraries,  
Hatred and Love, but Loves a deity,  
And must prevail against mortals, whose command  
Not Jove himself could ever yet withstand.  Cle. 
What is the letter done already, I see these Lovers have nimble inventions, but how will you send it.  Phi. 
What a question's that, seest thou this stone.  Cle. 
Ah, than I see your drift, this stone must guide your  
Fleeting Letter in the Air, and carry it to that  
Fair Mark you aim at.  Phi. 
Hard by her.  Cle. 
I think you would not hit her with such stones as this,  
Lady look to yourself, he that now throws one  
Stone at you, hopes to hit you with two.  Phi. 
But prithee tell me what dost think this Letter may do.  Cle. 
Well I hope,  
'tis ten to one this Lady oft hath seen you,  
You never lived obscure in Syracuse,  
Nor walked the streets unknown, and who can tell  
What place you bear in her affections,  
Loved or misliked; if bad, this letter sent,  
Will make her show her scorn, if otherwise,  
Fear not a woman's wit, she'll find a time  
To answer your kind Letter, and express  
What you desire she should, then send it boldly,  
You have a fairer make there.  Phi. 
Cupid guide my arm,  
Oh be as just blind God as thou art great,  
And with that powerful hand, that golden shaft  
That I was wounded, wound you tender breast,  
There is no salve but that, no cure for me,  Cle. 
See what a wonder it strikes 'em in, how it should come.  Phi. 
she'll wonder more to see what man it comes from.  Cle. 
I like her well, yet she is not afraid to open it:  
She starts, stay mark her action when she has read the Letter.  She reads 
"LEt it wrong this Letter that it came,  
" From one that trembled to subscribe his name,  
"Fearing your hate, O let not hate descend,  
" Nor make you cruel to so vowed a friend,  
"If you'll not promise love, grant but access,  
" And let me know my woes are past redress,  
"Be just then beauteous judge, and like the laws  
" Condemn me not till you have heard my cause,  
"Which when you have, from those fair lips return  
" Either my life in love, or death in scorn.  
Yours or not, Philocles.  
Am I awake or dream I, is it true  
Or does my flattering fancy but suggest  
What I most covet.  Pse. 
madam the words are there,  
I'll swear it canna be, nor be illusion.  Leu. 
It is too good for truth.  Phi. 
Mock me not fortune,  
She kissed it, sawest thou her, by heaven she kissed it.  Cle. 
And with a look that relished love, not scorn,  Leu. 
This Letter may be forged, I much desire to know the certainty, Psecas thy help must further me.  Pse. 
I'll not be wanting.  Leu. 
Here comes my father, he must not see this.  Pse. 
No nor your other sweet heart, he is with him yonder.  Enter Polimetes, Virro, Roscio. Pol. 
Nay noble Count you are too old a Soldier  
To take a maid's first no, for a denial,  
They will be nice at first, men must pursue  
That will obtain, woe her my Lord and take her,  
You have my free consent if you can get hers,  
Yonder she walks alone, go comfort her.  Virro 
I'll do the best I may, but we old men  
Are but cold comfort, I thank your Lordship's love.  Pol. 
I wonder Roscio that the peevish Girl  
Comes on so slowly on persuasions  
That I can use, do move the setting forth  
Count Virro's greatness, wealth and dignity  
Seems not to affect her, Roscio.  Roscio. 
I doubt the cause my Lord,  
For were not that, I dare engage my life,  
She would be won to love him, she has placed  
Already her affections on some other.  Poli. 
How should I find it out  Ros. 
Why thus my Lord  
There's never man nor woman that ere loved,  
But chose some bosom friend whose close converse,  
Sweeten their joys, and ease their burdened minds  
Of such a working secret, thus no doubt  
Has my young Lady done, and but her woman,  
Who should it be, 'tis she must out with it,  
Her secrecy if wit cannot o'erreach,  
Gold shall corrupt, leave that to me my Lord,  
But if her Lady's heart do yet stand free  
And unbequeathed to any, your command  
And father's jurisdiction interposed  
Will make her love the Count, no kind of means  
must want to draw her.  Pol. 
Thou art my Oracle,  
My Brain, my Soul, my very being Roscio,  
Walk on and speed whilst I but second thee.  Cle. 
It is even so, Count Virro is your rival,  
See how the old Ape smugs up his mouldy chaps  
To seize the bit.  Phi. 
He must not if I live,  
But yet her father brings him that has the means  
That I should ever want.  Cle. 
If he do marry her  
Revenge it nobly, make him a Cuckold boy,  Phi. 
Thou jests that feels it not, prithee let's go,  Cle. 
Stay, I'll not curse him briefly for thy sake,  
If thou dost marry her mayest thou be made  
A Cuckold without profit, and ne'er get  
An Office by it, nor favour at the Court,  
But may thy large ill gotten treasury  
Be spent in her bought lust, and thine own gold  
Bring thee adulterers, so farewell good Count.  Exeunt Phiocles. Enter Servant. Ser. 
My Lord, there's a Messenger within  
desire's access, has business of import,  
Which to no ear but yours he must impart.  Enter Eugenio disguised. Pol. 
Admit him, now friend, your business with me.  Ser. 
If you be the Lord Polimetes.  Pol. 
The same.  Euge. 
My Lord, I come from Athens with such news  
As I dare say is welcome though unlooked for,  
Your son Eugenio lives whom you so long  
Thought dead and mourned for.  Pol. 
How, lives.  Euge. 
Upon my life my Lord I saw him well  
Within these few days.  Pol. 
Thanks for thy good news,  
Towards him Roscio, but now tell me friend  
Hast thou revealed this news to any man  
In Syracuse but me.  Eu. 
To none my Lord,  
At every place where I have stayed in town,  
Enquiring for your Lordship's house, I heard  
These tragic, but false news, the contrary  
I still concealed, though knew, intending first  
Your Lordship's ear should drink it.  Pol. 
Worthy friend.  
I now must thank your wisdom as your love  
In this well carried action, I'll requite it,  
Mean time pray use my house, and still continue your  
Silence in this business, Roscio make him welcome, and  
Part as little from him as you can for fear.  Ro. 
Think it done, my Lord.  Pol. 
Psecas come hither.  Vir. 
Be like yourself, let not a cruel doom  
Pass those fair lips, that never were ordained  
To kill, but to revive.  Leu. 
Neither my Lord  
Lies in the power to do.  Vir. 
Yes sweet to me.  
Whom your scorn kills, and pity will revive.  Leu. 
Pity is showed to men in misery.  Vir. 
And so am I, if not relieved by you.  Leu. 
'twere pride in me, my Lord, to think it so.  Vir. 
I am your beauties captive.  Leu. 
Then my Lord,  
What greater gift than freedom can I give,  
'tis that that Captives most desires, and that  
You shall command, you're free from me my Lord,  Vir. 
Your beauty contradicts that freedom Lady.  Pol. 
come noble Count, I must for this time interrupt you  
You'll find time enough within to talk.  Vir. 
I'll wait upon your Lordship. exeunt manet Euge. solus.  Euge. 
Thus in disguise I have discovered all,  
And found the cause of my reported death,  
Which did at first amaze me, but 'tis well,  
'tis to draw on the match between my sister  
And this rich Count, heaven grant it be content  
As well as fortune to her, but I fear  
She cannot love his age, how it succeeds  
I shall perceive, and whilst unknown I stay,  
I cannot hurt the project, help I may. Exit.  Enter Francisco, Sumner. Fran. 
This will make good work for you in the spiritual  
Court, Shallow is a rich man.  Sum. 
I marry Sir,  
Those are the men we look for, there's somewhat  
To be got, the Court has many businesses at this  
Time, but they are little worth, a few waiting  
Women got with child by serving-men or so, scarce  
Worth the citing.  Fran. 
Do not their Masters get  
'em with child sometimes.  Sum. 
Yes no doubt, but  
They have got a trick to put 'em off upon their  
Men, and for a little portion save their  
Own credits; beside, these private marriages  
Are much out of our way, we cannot know when  
There is a fault.  Fran. 
Well, these are no  
Starters I warrant you, Shallow shall not deny it,  
And for the Wench she need not confess it, she has  
A mark that will betray her.  Sum. 
I thank you  
Sir for your good intelligence, I hope 'tis certain.  Franc. 
Fear not that, is your citation ready.  Sum. 
I have it here.  Franc. 
Well step aside, and come when I call, I hear 'em coming. Exit Sumner.  Enter Franklin, Shallow, Luce, Parson. Frank. 
Set forward there, Francisco what make you here.  Franc. 
I come to claim my right, Parson take heed,  
Thou art the Author of adultery  
If thou conjoin this couple, she's my wife.  Frank. 
you saucebox.  Shal. 
Father, I thought she had been mine, I hope I shall not lose her thus.  Frank. 
Francisco, dare not to interrupt us, for I swear thou shalt endure the law's extremity  
For thy presumption.  Franc. 
do your worst, I fear not,  
I was contracted to her.  Frank. 
What witness have you.  Franc. 
Heaven is my witness, whose imperial eye saw our contract.  Shal. 
What an Ass is this to talk of contracting, he that will get a wench, must make her bigger as I have done, and not contract.  Franc. 
Sir, you are abused.  Shal. 
Why so.  Franc. 
The wife you go to marry is with child, and by another.  Shal. 
A good jest i'faith, make me believe that.  Franc. 
How comes this fool possessed, he never touched her I dare swear.  Frank. 
No more Francisco as you will answer it,  
Parson set forward there.  Franc. 
stay,  
If this will not suffice, Sumner come forth.  Frank. 
A Sumner, we are all betrayed. Enter Sumner.  Sum. 
God save you all, I think you guess my business,  
These are to cite to the spiritual Court  
You master Shallow, and you mistress Luce,  
Ask not the cause, for 'tis apparent here,  
A carnal copulation, ante matrimonium.  Frank. 
This was a bar unlooked for, spiteful Francisco  Franc. 
Injurious Franklin, could the laws divine,  
Or humane suffer, such an impious act,  
That thou shouldst take my true and lawful wife,  
And great with child by me, to give t'another,  
Gulling his poor simplicity.  Shal. 
Do you mean me Sir.  Sum. 
Gallants Farewell, my writ shall be obeyed.  Frank. 
Summer it shall. exit Summer  Par. 
I'll take my leave, there's nothing now for me to do  Frank. 
Farewell good master Parson. exit Parson  Frank. 
Francisco canst thou say thou ever lovedst my daughter, and wouldst thou thus disgrace her openly.  Franc. 
No, I would win her thus,  
And did you hold her credit half so dear  
As I, or her content, you would not thus  
Take her from me, and thrust her against her will  
On this rich fool.  Sha. 
You are very bold with me Sir.  Franc. 
Let me have news what happens dearest Luce.  Luc. 
Else let me die. exit Francisco.  Frank. 
This was your doing Luce, it had been  
Unpossible he should ere have known the time  
So truly else, but I'll take an order next time  
For you babbling.  Sha. 
What's the matter father.  Fran. 
We may  
Thank you for it, this was your haste that will  
Now shame us all, you must be doing afore your  
Time.  Sha. 
'twas but a trick of youth father,  Frank. 
And therefore now you must e'en stand in a  
White sheet for all to gaze at.  Sha. 
How,  
I would be loath to wear a surplice now, 'tis a  
Disgrace the house of the Shallows never knew.  Fran. 
All the hope is, officers may be bribed, and so they will, 'twere a hard world for us to live in else.  Shal. 
You say true father, if 'twere not for corruption, every poor rascal might have justice as well as one of us, and that were a shame. exeunt Shal. Luce  Frank. 
This was a cunning stratagem well laid,  
But yet Francisco thouhast not won the prize:  
What should I do, I must not let this cause  
Proceed to trial in the open Court,  
For then my daughter's oath will cast the child  
Upon Francisco: no, I have found a better,  
I will before the next Court day provide  
Some needy Parson, one whose poverty  
Shall make him fear no Cannons, he shall marry  
My daughter to rich Shallow, when 'tis done  
Our gold shall make a silence in the Court. Exit.  Enter Philocles, Psecas. Pse. 
I must return your answer to my Lady,  
He tell her you will come.  Phil. 
Come,  
And such a Angel call, I should forget  
All Offices of Nature, all that men  
Wish in their second thoughts, ere such a duty  
Commend my service to her, and to you  
My thanks for this kind Message. exit Psecas.  
I never breathed till now, never till now now  
Did my life relish sweetness, break not heart,  
Crack not ye feeble Ministers of nature  
With inundation of such swelling joy,  
too great to bear without expression:  
The Lady writes that she has known me long  
By sight, and loved me, and she seems to thank  
Her stars she loves, and is beloved again,  
She speaks my very thoughts, by heaven 'tis strange  
And happy when affections thus can meet;  
She further writes at such an hour today,  
Her father's absence, and all household spies  
Fitly removed, shall give access to me  
Unmarked to visit her, where she alone  
Will entertain discourse and welcome me.  
I hope 'tis truly meant, why should I fear,  
But wisdom bids me fear: fie, fie, 'tis base,  
To wrong a creature of that excellence,  
With such suspicion I should injure her,  
I will as soon suspect an angel false,  
Treason ne'er lodged within so fair a breast,  
No, if her hand betray me, I will will run  
On any danger, 'tis alike to me  
To die, or find her false, for on her truth  
Hangs my chief being, well I'll lose no time  
No not a minute, dearest love I come,  
To meet my sweetest wishes I will fly,  
Heaven and my truth, shield me from treachery. Exit.   

Actus Tertius.  Enter Polimetes, Roscio, Eugenio, Psecas. Pol. 
I Cannot credit it, nor think that she  
Of all the noble youth in Sicily,  
Should make so strange a choice, that none but he,  
None but the son of my vowed enemy  
Must be her mate, it strikes me to amaze,  
Minion take heed, do not belie your Mistress.  Pse. 
Mercy forsake me if I do my Lord,  
You charged me to confess the truth to you,  
Which I have fully done, and presently  
I'll bring you where concealed, you shall both see  
Their privacy and hear their conference.  Pol. 
Well I believe thee wench, and will reward  
Thy trust in this, go get thee in again  
And bring me word when Philocles is come,  
Sir you'll be secret to our purpose.  Euge. 
As your own breast my Lord.  Pol. 
I shall rest thankful to you:  
This stranger must be soothed lest he mar all.  Rosc. 
This was well found out my Lord, you now have means to take your enemy.  Pol. 
With blessed occasion I will so pursue  
As childless Euphes shall for ever rue.  
Rise in thy blackest look direst Nemesis  
Assistant to my purpose, help me glut  
My thirsty soul with blood. This bold young man  
To his rash love shall sacrifice his life.  Ros. 
What course you intend, to ruin him.  Pol. 
Why kill him presently.  Ro. 
Oh no my Lord,  
You'll rue that action, think not that the Law  
Will let such murder sleep unpunished.  Pol. 
Should I now let him go now I have caught him  Ros. 
Yes Sir, to catch him faster, and more safely.  Pol. 
How should that be? speak man.  Ros. 
Why thus my Lord;  
You know the law speaks death to any man  
That steals an Heir without her friend's consent,  
This must he do, his love will prompt him to it,  
For he can never hope by your consent  
To marry her, and she 'tis like will give  
Content, for women's love is violent,  
Then mark their passage you shall easily find  
How to surprise them at your will my Lord.  Pol. 
Thou art my Oracle dear Roscio,  
Here's Psecas come again; how now what news?  Pse. 
My Lord they both are coming please you withdraw, you shall both hear and see what you desire.  Enter Philocles and Leucothoe. Leu. 
Ye are welcome Noble Sir and did my power,  
Answer my love your visitation,  
Should be more free, and your deserved welcome  
Expressed in better fashion.  Phi. 
Best of Ladies,  
It is so well, so excellently well,  
Coming from your wished love, my barren thanks  
Wants language for't, there lies in your fair looks  
More entertainment than in all the pomp  
That the vain Persian ever taught the world,  
Your presence is the welcome I expected,  
That makes it perfect.  Leu. 
'tis your noble thought  
Makes good what's wanting here, but gentle friend,  
For so I now dare call you.  Pol. 
'tis well Minion you are bold  
Enough I see to choose your friends without my leave.  Phi. 
'tis my ambition ever to be yours.  Leu. 
Think me not light, dear Philocles, so soon  
To grant thee love, that others might have sought  
With eagerest pursuit, and not obtained,  
But I was yours by fate, and long have been,  
Before you wood Leucothoe was won,  
And yours without resistance.  Phi. 
Oh my Stars  
'twas your kind influence, that whist I slept  
In dullest ignorance, contrived for me  
The way to crown me with felicity.  Pol. 
You may be deceived though,  
You have no such great reason  
To thank your Stars if you knew all.  Phil. 
And know fair Mistress you have met a love,  
That time, nor fate, nor death can ever change,  
A man that but in you can have no being:  
Let this kiss seal my faith.  Leu. 
And this mine.  Pol. 
Nay to't again, your sweet meat shall have sour sauce.  Phi. 
But sweet, 'mongst all these Roses there's one thorn  
That pricks and galls me, our parents enmity  
Will cross our loves, I do assure my son  
This father never will give his consent.  Leu. 
No so I think, he moves me still to Virro  
That old crazed Count, and with such vehemency  
I dare scarce bide his presence if I deny him;  
Therefore we must be speedy in our course,  
And take without his leave what he denies.  Pol. 
I thank you for that good daughter.  Ros. 
I told you Sir 'twould come to this at last.  Phi. 
Oh thou hast spoke my wishes, and hath showed  
thyself in love as true as beautiful;  
Then let's away dearest Leucothoe,  
My fortunes are not poor, then fear no want,  
This constant love of ours may prove so happy,  
To reconcile our parents enmity.  Leu. 
Heaven grant it may.  Po. 
Never by this means youngster.  Leu. 
But soft now I think better on't I'll not go.  Phi. 
Why dearest, is thy love so quickly cold?  Leu. 
No, but i'll not venture thee, thine is the danger,  
Thou knowest 'tis death by law to steal an heir,  
And my dear brothers most untimely death,  
Hath lately made me one, what if thou shouldst be taken.  Phi. 
Oh fear not that, had I a thousand lives,  
They were too small a venture for such prize,  
I tell thee sweet, a face not half so fair  
As thine, hath armed whole actions in the field,  
And brought a thousand ships to Tenedos,  
To sack lamented Troy, and should I fear  
To venture one poor life, and such a life  
As would be lost in nor possessing thee:  
Come come, make that no scruple, when shall we go.  Leu. 
This present evening, for tomorrow morning  
My father looks that I should give consent  
To marry with the Count,  Phil. 
Best of all, would 'twere this present hour,  
I'll go prepare, but shall I call thee here.  Leu. 
Oh no, we'll meet.  Phi. 
Where dearest.  Leu. 
East from the City by a river's side,  
Not distant half a mile there stands a grove,  
Where often riding by I have observed  
A little Hermitage, there I will stay  
If I be first, if you, do you the like,  
Let th'hour be ten, then shall I best escape.  Phi. 
ne'er sweeter comfort came from Angels lips  
I know the place, and will be ready there  
Before the hour: I'll bring a friend with me  
As true as mine own heart, one Clerimont,  
That may do us good if danger happen.  Leu. 
Use your pleasure.  Phi. 
Dearest farewell,  
Hours will seem years till we are met again. exeunt.  Pol. 
Ah Sirrah, this gear goes well, god a mercy girl  
For thy intelligence, why this is as much as a  
Man could desire, the time, place, and every thing;  
I warrant 'em they pass no further, well  
Go thou in and wait upon thy Mistress, she's  
Melancholy till she see her sweet heart again, but  
When she does, she shall not see him long,  
Not a word of what's passed among us for your life.  Pse. 
I warrant you my Lord.  Pol. 
I'll not so much as show an angry look,  
Or any token that I know any of their proceedings,  
But Rosio, we must lay the place strongly, if they  
Should scape us, I were prettily fooled now after all  
This.  Ros. 
Why 'tis impossible my Lord, we'll go  
Strong enough, beside I think it fit we took  
An Officer along with us to countenance it the  
Better.  Pol. 
Thou sayst well, go get one,  
I'll go myself along with you too, I love  
To see sport though I am old, you'll go  
Along with us to Sir.  Eu. 
I Sir, you shall  
Command my service when you are ready.  Pol. 
Now Euphues, what I did but barely act  
Thy bleeding heart shall feel, loss of a son  
If Law can have his course, as who can let it,  
I know thou think'st mine dead, and in thy heart  
Laughest at my falling house, but let them laugh  
That win the prize, things ne'er are known till ended.  Exeunt. Pol. and Ros. Eugenio solus. Eug. 
Well I like my sister's choice, she has taken a man  
Whose very looks and carriage speak him  
Worthy, beside he is Noble, his fortunes sufficient,  
They both love each other, what can my father  
More desire, that he gapes so after this old  
Count, that comes for the estate, as other upon  
My soul does not, but pure spotless love, but  
Now his plot is for revenge upon his old enemy:  
Fie, Fie 'tis bloody and unchristian, my soul  
Abhors such acts, this match may rather  
Reconcile our houses, and I desire where worth  
Is to have friendship, as on my soul 'tis there.  
Well Philocles I hope to call thee brother.  
Somewhat I'll do, I'll go persuade Count Virro  
Not to love her, I know the way, and I'll but  
Tell him truth her brother lives, that will  
Cool his love quickly; but soft, here comes  
The Count as fit as may be.  Enter Virro. Vir. 
She loves me not yet, but that's no matter,  
I shall have her, her father says I shall,  
And I dare take his word, maids are quickly  
Overruled, ah, ah, methinks I am grown younger  
Than I was by twenty years, this Fortune  
Cast upon me, is better than Medea's charm, to  
Make an old man young again, to have a  
lord's estate freely bestowed, and with it such  
A beauty as should warm Nestor's blood,  
Make old Priam lusty. Fortune I see thou lovest me  
Now, I'll build a Temple to thee shortly, and  
Adore thee as the greatest deity. Now what are you.  Euge. 
A poor Scholar my Lord, one that  
Am little beholding to Fortune.  Vir. 
So are most of your profession,  
Thou shouldst take some more thriving  
Occupation, to be a judge's man, they are  
The bravest now adays, or a cardinal's  
Pander, that were a good profession and gainful.  Euge. 
But not lawful, my Lord.  Verro. 
Lawful,  
That Cardinal may come to be Pope, and  
Then he could pardon thee and himself too.  Eu. 
My Lord I was brought up a Scholar.  
And I thank your counsel, My  
Lord, I have some for you, and therefore I  
Came.  Vir. 
For me, what I prithee.  Eu. 
'tis weighty and concerns you near.  Vir. 
Speak, what is't?  Eu. 
My Lord, you are to marry old Polimetes Daughter.  Vir. 
And Heir.  Eu. 
No Heir  
My Lord, her Brother is alive.  Vir. 
How, Thou art mad.  Eu. 
My Lord,  
What I speak is true, and to my knowledge  
His father gives it out in policy to marry his  
Daughter the better, to hook in suitors, and  
Specially aimed at you, thinking you rich  
And covetous, and now he has caught you.  Vir. 
But dost thou mock me.  Eu. 
Let me be ever miserable if I speak  
Not truth, as sure as I am here Eugenio lives,  
I know it, and know him, where he is.  Vir. 
Where prithee.  Eu. 
Not a day's journey hence,  
Where his father enjoined him to stay till your  
Match, and sends word to him of this plot:  
Besides, I overheard the old Lord and his man  
Roscio, laughing at you for being caught thus.  Vir. 
Why, wert thou at the house then.  Eu. 
Yes, But had scurvy entertainment  
Which I have thus revenged  Vir. 
Beshrew my heart I know not what  
To think on't, till like enough, this Lord was  
Always cunning beyond measure, and it  
Amazed me that he should grow so extreme  
Kind to me on the sudden to offer me all this:  
Besides this fellow is so confident, and on  
No ends of cozenage that I can see; well,  
I would fain enjoy her, the Wench is  
Delicate, but I would have the estate too, and  
not be gulled, what shall I do, now brains  
If ever you will, help your Master.  Eu. 
It stings him.  Vir. 
Well, so, Sir,  
What may I call your name?  Eu. 
Irus my Lord.  Vir. 
Your name as well as your attire  
Speakers you poor.  Eu. 
I am so.  Vir. 
And very poor.  Eu. 
Very poor.  Vir. 
Would you not gladly take a course  
To get money, and a great some of money.  Eu. 
Is gladly if your Lordship would but  
Show me the way.  Vir. 
Hark ye.  Eu. 
Oh my Lord, Conscience.  Vir. 
Fie, never  
Talk of the Conscience, and for Law thou art  
Free, for all men think him dead, and  
His father will be ashamed to follow it  
Having already given him for dead,  
And then who can know it, come be wise,  
Five hundreth crowns I'll give.  Eu. 
Well, 'tis poverty that does it, and not I,  
When shall I be paid.  Vir. 
When thou hast done it.  Eu. 
Well give me your  
Hand for it my Lord  Vir. 
Thou shalt.  Eu. 
In writing, to be paid when I have  
Poisoned him, and think it done.  Vir. 
Now thou  
But love has made me bold, the time has been,  
In such a place as this I should have feared  
Each rolling leaf, and trembled at a reed  
Stirred in the Moonshine, my fearful fancy  
Would frame a thousand apparitions,  
And work some fear out of my very shadow:  
I wonder Philocles is tardy thus,  
When last we parted every hour, he said,  
Would seem a year till we were met again,  
It should not seem so by the haste he makes  
I'll sit and rest me, come I know he will.  Enter Philocles and Clerimont. Phi. 
This Clerimont this is the happy place  
Where I shall meet the sum of all my joys,  
And be possessed of such a treasury  
As would enrich a Monarch.  Leu. 
This is his voice,  
My Philocles.  Phi. 
My life, my soul, what here before me,  
Oh thou dost still out go me, and dost make  
All my endeavours poor in the requital  
Of thy large favours, but I forget myself.  
Sweet bid my friend here welcome, this is he  
That I dare trust next mine own hearth with secrets.  
But why art thou disguised thus.  Leu. 
I durst not venture else to make escape.  Phi. 
even now methinks I stand as I would wish  
With all my wealth about me, such a love  
And such a friend, what can be added more  
To make a man live happy, thou dark grove  
That hast been called the seat of Melancholy,  
And shelter for the discontented spirits;  
Sure thou art wrong, thou seemst to me a place  
Of solace and content, a Paradise  
That givest me more than ever Court could do  
Or richest Palace, blessed be thy fair shades,  
Let birds of music ever chant it here,  
No croaking Raven, or ill boding Owl  
Make here their baleful habitation  
Frighting thy walks, but mayst thou be a grove  
Where loves fair Queen may take delight to sport:  
For under thee two faithful Lovers meet,  
Why is my fair Leucothoe so sad.  Leu. 
I know no cause, but I would fain be gone.  Phi. 
Whether sweet.  Leu. 
Any whether from hence.  
My thoughts divine of treason, whence I know not,  
There is no creature knows our meeting here  
But one, and that's my maid, she has been trusty  
And will be still I hope, but yet I would  
She did not know it, prithee let's away  
anywhere else, we are secure from danger.  Phi. 
Then let's remove, but prithee be not sad.  noise within. 
What noise is that.  Leu. 
Ay me.  Phi. 
Oh fear not Love. draw.  Enter polimedes', Roscio, Eugenio and Officers. Pol. 
Upon 'em Officers, yonder they are.  Phi. 
thieves, Villains.  Pol. 
Thou art the Thief and the Villain too,  
Give me my Daughter thou ravisher.  Phi. 
First take my life.  Pol. 
Upon 'em I say. fight.  
Knock 'em down Officers if they resist, they are taken.  Leu. 
Oh they are lost, ah wicked, wicked Psecas;  Pol. 
So keep 'em fast, we'll have 'em faster shortly, and for you Minion, I'll tie a clog about your neck for running away any more.  Leu. 
Yet do but hear me father.  Pol. 
Call me not father thou disobedient wretch,  
Thou Runaway, thou art no child of mine,  
My Daughter ne'er wore Breeches.  Leu. 
Oh Sir, my Mother would have done as much  
For love of you, if need had so required,  
Think not my mind transformed as my habit.  Pol. 
Officers away with 'em, peace strumpet,  
You may discharge him, he's but an assistant.  Leu. 
Oh stay and hear me yet, hear but a word  
And that my last it may be, do not spill  
The life of him in whom my life subsists,  
Kill not two lives in one, remember Sir,  
I was your Daughter once, once you did love me,  
And tell me then, what fault can be so great,  
To make a father murderer of his child,  
For so you are in taking of his life.  
Oh think not Sir that I will stay behind him  
Whilst there be Asps, and Knives, and burning Coals,  
No Roman dame shall in her great example  
Outgo my love.  Phi. 
Oh where will sorrow stay,  
Is there no end in grief or in my death  
Not punishment enough for my offence,  
But must her grief be added to afflict me;  
Dry up those Pearls dearest Leucothoe,  
Or thou wilt make me doubly miserable,  
Preserve that life, that I may after death  
Live in my better part, take comfort dear,  
People would curse me, if such beauty should  
For me miscarry, no, live happy thou,  
And let me suffer what the law inflicts.  Leu. 
My offence was as great as thine,  
And why should not my punishment.  Pol. 
Come have you done, Officers away with him.  Exit Philocles. 
I'll be your keeper, but I'll look better to you.  
But Rosy you and I must about the business:  
sir let it be your charge to watch my Daughter,  
And see she send no message any whither,  
Nor receive any.  Eu. 
It shall my Lord. exeunt manet Eu. and Leu.  
I'll be an Argus, none shall come here I warrant you,  
My very heart bleeds to see two such lovers so  
Faithfully parted so. I must condemn my father,  
he's too cruel in this hard action, and did not  
Nature forbid it, I could rail at him, to reek  
His long fostered malice against Lord Euphues thus  
Upon his son, the faithful lover of his own  
Daughter, and upon her, for should it come to pass  
As he expects it shall, I think t' would kill her  
Too, she takes it—: See in what strange amazement  
Now she stands, her grief has spent itself so  
Far that it has left her senseless, it grieves  
Me thus to see her, I can scarce forbear revealing  
Of myself to her, but that I keep it for a  
Better occasion when things shall better answer to  
My purpose: Lady.  Leu. 
What are you.  Eu. 
In that my Lord your father has appointed  
To give attendance on you.  Leu. 
On me, alas I need no attendance,  
He might bestow his care better for me.  Eu. 
I came but lately to him, nor do I mean  
Long to stay with him, in the mean time Lady  
Might I but do you any service.  Leu. 
All service is too late, my hopes are desperate.  Eu. 
madam, I have a feeling of your woe,  
A greater your own brother could not have,  
And think not that I come suborned by any  
To undermine your secrets, I am true,  
By all the gods I am, for further trial  
Command me any thing, send me on any message  
I'll do it faithfully, or any thing else  
That my poor power can compass.  Leu. 
Oh strange fate  
Have I lost pity in a father's heart,  
And shall I find it in a stranger: Sir  
I shall not live to thank you, but my prayers  
Shall go with you.  Eu. 
'tis not for thanks or need  
But for the service that I owe to virtue  
I would do this.  Leu. 
Surely this man  
Is nobly bred, howe'er his habit give him:  
But Sir, all physic comes to me too late,  
There is no hope my Philocles should live.  Eu. 
Unless the King were pleased to grant his pardon,  
'ttwere good that he were moved.  Leu. 
Ah who should do it,  
I fear me 'tis in vain, Count Virro  
And my father both will cross it, but I would venture  
If I could get but thither.  Eu. 
That's in my power  
To give you liberty, your father left me  
To be your keeper, but in an act  
So meritorious as this, I will not hinder you,  
Nay I will wait upon you to the Court.  Leu. 
A thousand thanks to you, well i'll go,  
Grant oh you powers above, if virgin's tears,  
If a true love's prayers had ever power  
To move compassion grant it now to me,  
Armed with so strong a vigour, my weak words  
They may pierce deep into his kingly breast,  
And force out mercy in spite of all opposers.  Eu. 
Come let's away. exeunt.   

Actus quartus.  Enter Francisco reading a letter. Fran. 
MY dearest Luce, were thy old Sire as just  
As thou art truly constant, our firm love  
Had never met these oppositions,  
All my designs as yet, all practises  
That I have used, I see are frustrated,  
For as my fair intelligencer writes,  
He will before the next court day provide  
Some careless person, that in spite of laws  
Shall marry her to Shallow, this being done,  
He means to hold the Court's severity  
To by a golden bit, and so he may,  
Alas it is too true, I must prevent it,  
And that in time, before it grow too far;  
But how, there lies the point of difficulty:  
But what strange sight is this that greets mine eyes,  
Alphonso my old Captain, sure 'tis he.  Enter Allphonso. Al. 
Thus once again from twenty years' exile,  
tossed by the storms of fortune too and fro,  
Has gracious heaven given me leave to tread  
My native earth of Sicily and draw  
That air that fed me in my infancy.  Fr. 
'tis he, most noble Captain, oh what power  
Has been so gracious as to bless mine eyes  
Once more with sight of my most honoured master.  Al. 
Kind youth the tears of joy that I have spent  
To greet my native country have quite robbed  
Mine eyes of moisture, and have left me none  
To answer thy affection, but tell me,  
Tell me how thou hast lived in Syracuse  
These five years here, since that unluckily storm  
Divided us at Sea.  Fr. 
Faith poorly Sir,  
As one that knows no kindred nor alliance,  
Unknown of any have I shifted out,  
But I have heard you say that I was borne  
In Syracuse, tell me what stock I come of,  
What parentage, how mean soe'er they be,  
They cannot well be poorer than myself,  
Speak, do you know them Sir?  Al. 
Yes very well,  
And I am glad the fates have brought me home,  
For thy dear sake, that I may now disclose  
Thy honourable birth.  Fr. 
Honourable?  Al. 
Yes noble youth, thou art the second son  
To old Lord Euphues, a man more worthy  
And truly noble never drew this air;  
Thy name's Lysandro, this discovery  
Will be as welcome to your friends as you.  Fr. 
You do amaze me Sir.  Al. 
I'll tell you all,  
It was my fortune, twenty a year ago,  
Upon the Tyrrhene shore, whose sea divides  
This I'll from Italy, to keep a fort  
Under your noble father, where yourself  
Then but a child, was left to my tuition,  
When suddenly the rude assailing force  
Of strong Italian Pirates so prevailed,  
As to surprisal of the fort and us.  
Your name and noble birth I then concealed,  
Fearing some outrage from the enmity  
Of those fell Pirates, and since from yourself  
I purposely have kept the knowledge of it.  
As loath to grieve your present misery  
With knowledge of what fortunes you had lost,  
That this is true, you straight shall see th'effect,  
I'll go acquaint your father with the tokens,  
And make his overjoyed heart leap to embrace  
Thee his new found and long forgotten son:  Fr. 
Worthy Captain, your presence was always  
Welcome to me, but this unlooked for news, I  
Cannot suddenly digest.  Al. 
Well I'll go to him presently. exit Alphonso.  Fr. 
Now my dear Luce, I shall find means to quite  
Thy love, that couldst descend so low as I  
When I was nothing, and with such affection,  
This was my suit still to the powers above,  
To make me worthy of thy constant love.  
Exit Francisco .But i'll about the project I intended.  Enter Virro and Polimetes. Pol. 
Why now my Lord you are nearer to her love then ever you were yet, your rival by this accident shall be removed out of the way, for before the scornful girl would never fancy any man else.  Vir. 
I conceive you Sir.  Pol. 
I laboured it for your sake as much as for my  
Own, to remove your rival and my enemy, you  
Have your love, and I have my revenge.  Vir. 
I shall live my Lord to give you thanks, but aside.  
'twill be after a strange manner, if Irus has  
Dispatched what he was hired too, than my kind  
Lord I shall be a little too cunning for you.  Pol. 
My Lord you are gracious with the King.  Vir. 
I thank his Majesty, I have his care before another man.  Pol. 
Then see no pardon be granted, you may stop any thing; I knew Euphues will be soliciting for his son.  Vir. 
I warrant you my Lord no pardon passes whilst I am there, i'll be a bar betwixt him and the King, but hark the King approaches.  Enter the King with attendants. Ambo. 
Health to your Majesty.  King. 
Count Virro, and Lord Polimetes welcome,  
You have been strangers at the Court of late;  
But I can well excuse you Count, you are about a wife,  
A young one and a fair one too they say,  
Get me young soldiers Count, but speak  
When is the day, I mean to be your guest,  
You shall not steal a marriage.  Vir. 
I thank your Majesty, but the marriage that I intended is stolen to my hand, and by another.  King. 
Stolen, how man.  Vir. 
My promised wife  
Is lately stolen away by Philocles,  
Lord Euphues son against her father's will,  
Who followed 'em and apprehended them,  
The Law may right us Sir, if it may have course.  King. 
No reason but the law should have his course.  Enter Euphues. Euph. 
Pardon dread Sovereign, pardon for my son.  King. 
Your son, Lord Euphues, what is his offence.  Euph. 
No heinous one my Liege, no plot of treason  
Against your royal person or your state,  
These aged cheeks would blush to beg a pardon  
For such a foul offence, no crying murder  
Hath stained his innocent hands, his fault was love,  
Love my dear Liege, unfortunately he took  
The Daughter and Heir of Lord Polimetes,  
Who follows him and seeks extremity.  Pol. 
I seek but Law, I am abused my Liege,  
justice is all I beg, my Daughters stolen,  
Staff of my age, let the law do me right,  Vir. 
To his just prayers do I bend my knee  
My promised wife is stolen, and by the son  
Of that injurious Lord, justice I crave.  Euph. 
Be like those powers above, whose place on earth  
You represent, show mercy gracious King,  
For they are merciful.  Pol. 
Mercy is but the king's prerogative,  
'tis justice is his office, doing that  
He can wrong no man, no man can complain,  
But mercy showed oft takes way relief  
From the wronged party that the Law would give him:  Eup. 
The Law is blind and speaks in general terms,  
She cannot pity where occasion serves,  
The living law can moderate her rigour,  
And that's the King.  Pol. 
The King I hope in this will not do so,  Eup. 
'tis malice makes thee speak,  
Hard hearted Lord, hadst thou no other way  
To wreak thy cankered and long fostered hate  
Upon my head but thus, thus bloodily  
By my son's suffering, and for such a fault  
As thou shouldst love him rather, is thy daughter  
Disparaged by his love, is his blood base,  
Or are his fortunes sunk, this law was made  
For such like cautions, to restrain the base  
From wronging noble persons by attempts  
Of such a kind, but where equality  
Meets in the match, the fault is pardonable.  Leu. 
Mercy my Sovereign, mercy gracious King.  Pol. 
Minion who sent for you, 'twere more modesty  
For you to be at home.  King. 
Let her alone, speak Lady,  
I charge you no man interrupt her. Enter Leucothoe  Leu. 
If ever pity touched that princely breast,  
If ever Virgins tears had power to move,  
Or if you ever loved and felt the pangs  
That other lovers do, pity great King,  
Pity and pardon two unhappy Lovers.  King. 
Your life is not in question.  Leu. 
Yes royal Sir  
If Law condemn my Philocles, he and I  
Have but one heart, and can have but one fate.  Eu. 
Excellent virtue thou hadst not this from thy father.  King. 
there's Music in her voice, and in her face  
More than a mortal beauty: Oh my heart,  
I shall be lost in passion if I hear her,  
I'll here no more, convey her from my presence,  
Quickly I say.  Eu. 
This is strange.  Vir. 
I told you what he would do, I knew  
He would not here of a pardon, and I against it,  
He respects me.  Pol. 
No doubt he does my Lord.  
I like this passage well.  King. 
But stay,  
Stay Lady, let me hear you, beshrew my heart  
My mind was running of another matter.  Vir. 
Where the devil hath his mind been all this while,  
Perhaps he heard none of us neither,  
We may e'en tell our tales again.  Pol. 
No sure he heard us, but 'tis very strange.  King. 
'tis such a tempting poison I draw in,  
I cannot stay my draught, rise up Lady.  Leu. 
Never until your grace's pardon raise me,  
there's pity in your eye, oh show it Sir,  
Say Pardon gracious King, 'tis but a word  
And short, but welcome as the breath of life.  King. 
I'll further here the manner of this fact,  
Avoid the presence all, all but the Lady,  
And come not till I send.  Pol. 
I like not this.  Vir. 
Nor I hear is mad dancing.  Eu. 
Heaven bless thy suit thou mirror of thy sex,  
And best example of true constant love,  
That in the Sea of thy transcendent virtues  
Drownest all thy father's malice, and redeemest  
More in my thoughts then all thy kin can lose. exeunt.  King. 
Now Lady what would you do to save the life  
Of him you love so dearly.  Leu. 
I cannot think that thought I would not do,  
Lay it in my power, and beyond my power  
I would attempt.  King. 
You would be thankful then  
To me if I should grant his pardon.  Leu. 
If ever I were thankful to the gods  
For all that I call mine, my health and being,  
Could I to you be unthankful for a gift  
I value more than those, without which  
These blessings were but wearisome.  King. 
Those that are thankful study to requite  
A courtesy, would you do so? would you requite  
This favour?  Leu. 
I cannot Sir,  
For all the service I can do your Grace  
Is but my duty, you are my Sovereign,  
And all my deeds to you are debts not merits,  
But to those powers above that can requite,  
That from their vastless treasures hope rewards,  
More out of grace then merit on us mortals,  
To those i'll ever pray that they would give you  
More blessings than I have skill to ask.  King. 
Nay but Leucothoe, this lies in thy power to requite, thy love will make requital, wilt thou love me?  Leu. 
I ever did my Lord.  
I was instructed from my infancy,  
To love and honour you my Sovereign.  King. 
But in a nearer bond of love.  Leu. 
There is no nearer nor no truer love  
Than that a loyal subject bears a Prince.  King. 
Still thou wilt not conceive me, I must deal plain  
With you, wilt thou lie with me, and I will seal his  
Pardon presently; nay more, I'll heap upon you  
Both all favours, all honours that a Prince can give.  Leu. 
Oh me unhappy, in what a sad dilemma stands my choice.  
Either to lose the man my soul most loves,  
Or save him by a deed of such dishonour  
As he will ever loathe me for, and hate  
To draw that breath that was so basely kept.  
Name any thing but that to save his life,  
I know you do but tempt my frailty Sir,  
I know your royal thoughts could never stoop  
To such a foule dishonourable act.  King. 
Bethink yourself, there is no way but that,  
I swear by Heaven never to pardon him  
But upon those conditions.  Leu. 
Oh I am miserable.  King. 
Thou art not if not wilful, yield Leucothoe,  
It shall be secret, Philocles for his life  
Shall thank thy love, but never know the price  
Thou paidst for it; be wise thou heardst me swear,  
I cannot now show mercy, thou mayst save him,  
And if he die, 'tis thou that art the Tyrant.  Leu. 
I should be so if I should save him thus,  
Nay I should be a Traitor to your grace,  
Betray your soul to such a foe as lust,  
But since your oath is past, dear Philocles  
I'll show to thee an honest cruelty,  
And rather follow thee in spotless death,  
Then buy with sinning a dishonoured life.  King. 
Yet pity me Leucothoe, cure the wound  
Thine eyes hath made, pity a begging King,  
Uncharm the charms of thy bewitching face,  
Or thou wilt leave me dead: will nothing move thee,  
Thou art a Witch, a Traitor, thou hast sought  
By unresisted spells thy sovereign's life:  
Who are about us there, call in the Lords again,  
Lord Polemetes, take your daughter to you,  
Keep her at home.  Pol. 
I will my Liege, Rosio see her there I wonder what is done.  King. 
Euphues I have ta'en a solemn oath  
Never to grant a pardon to thy son.  Euph. 
O say not so my Liege, your grace I know  
Has mercy for a greater fault than this.  King. 
My oath is past and cannot be recalled.  Pol. 
This is beyond our wishes.  Vir. 
What made him swear this I wonder.  Euph. 
A heavy oath to me and most unlooked for,  
Your justice Sir has set the period  
Unto a loyal house, a Family  
That have been props of the Sicilian crown,  
That with their bloods in many an honoured field,  
'gainst the hot French, and Neopolitan  
Have served for you and your great Ancestors,  
Their children now can never more do so,  
Farewell my Sovereign, whilst I in tears  
Spend the sad remnant of my childless age,  
I'll pray for your long life and happy reign,  
And may your Grace and your Posterity  
At need find hands as good and hearts as true  
As ours have ever been.  King. 
Farewell good old man.  Eup. 
For you my Lord, your cruelty has deserved  
A curse from me, but I can utter none,  
Your daughter's goodness has weighed down your malice  
Heaven prosper her.  Poly. 
Amen.  King. 
He is an honest man and truly noble,  
Oh my rash oath, my lust, that was the cause,  
Would any price would buy it in again.  Vi. 
Your Majesty is just.  Pol. 
'tis a happy Land  
Where the King squares his actions by the law.  King. 
Away, you are base and bloody,  
That feeds your malice with pretence of justice,  
'tis such as you make Princes tyrannous,  
And hated of their subjects, but look to't,  
Look your own heads stands fast for if the law  
Do find a hole in your coats, beg no mercy.  Vir. 
Pardon us my Lord, we were wronged.  Pol. 
And sought redress but by a lawful course.  King. 
Well leave me alone.  Vir. 
Fare well my Liege, now let him chafe alone.  Pol. 
Now we have our ends. exeunt.  King. 
Is there no means to save him no way,  
To get a dispensation for an oath,  
None that I know except the Court of Rome  
Will grant one, that's well thought on,  
I will not spare for gold, and that will do it,  
Nicanor.  Nica. 
Sir.  King. 
What book is that  
Thou hadst from Paris about the price of sins.  Nic. 
'tis called the Texes of the Apostolical Chancery.  Kin. 
Is there a price for any sin set down.  Nic. 
A my Sir, how heinous ere it be,  
Or of what nature, for such a sum of money  
As is set down there, it shall be remitted  Kin. 
That's well, go fetch the book presently. exit Nic.  Nic. 
I will my Lord.  Kin. 
Sure there is perjury  
Among the rest, and I shall know what rate  
It bears before I have committed it.  
How now hast brought it.  Nic. 
Yes Sir.  Kin. 
read, I would know the price of perjury,  Nic 
I shall find it quickly, here's an Index. he reads Imp. For murder of all kinds of a Clergy man, of a lay man, of father, mother, Son, brother, sister, wife.  Kin. 
read till you come at perjury.  Nic. 
Item, for empoisoning, enchantments, witchcraft,  
Sacrilege, simony, and their kind and  
Branches. Item, pro lapsu carnis, fornication  
Adultery, incest without any exception or  
Distinction; for sodomy, Brutality, or any of  
That kind.  Kin. 
My heart shakes with horror  
To hear the names of such detested sins,  
Can these be bought for any price of money,  
Or do these merchants but deceive the world  
With their false Wares: no more of that foul book,  
I will know what I came to know,  
I would not for the world redeem my oath  
By such a course as this, no more Nicanor  
Unless thou find a price for Atheism.  Nic. 
Here's none for that my Lord, his Holiness  
Can pardon that in no man but himself.  Kin. 
Well this is not the way,  
I have thought of another that may prove,  
And both discharge my oath and save his life,  
Nicanor run presently, call Matho hither,  
Matho the Lawyer, command him to make haste,  
I long to be resolved.  Nic. 
I run Sir.  King. 
He is a subtle Lawyer, and may find  
Some point, that in the law's obscurity  
has hid from us, some point may do us good,  
I have seen some of his profession  
Out of case as plain, as clear as day  
To our weak judgements, and no doubt at first  
Meant like our thoughts by those that made the Law,  
Pick out such hard inextricable doubts,  
That they have spun a suit of seven year long,  
And lead their hood wink Clients in a wood,  
A most irremovable Labyrinth,  
Till they have quite consumed 'em, this they can do  
In other cases, why not as well in this.  
I have seen others could extend the Law  
Upon the wrack, or cut it short again  
To their own private profits, as that thief  
Cruel Procrustes served his hapless guests,  
To fit them to his bed; Well I shall see,  
I would Nicanor were returned again,  
I would fain ease my conscience of that oath,  
That rash and inconsiderate oath I took,  
But see, here they are coming. Enter Matho.  Ma. 
Health to my Sovereign.  King. 
Matho, welcome.  
I sent for thee about a business  
I would entreat thy help in.  Ma. 
Your Highness may command my service  
In that, or any thing lies in my power.  King. 
'tis to decide a case that troubles me.  Ma. 
If it lie within the compass of my knowledge,  
I will resolve your Highness presently.  King. 
Then thus it is, Lord Euphues son,  
Young Philocles, has lately stolen away  
The Daughter and Heir of Lord Polimetes,  
Who is his enemy, he following him hard  
Has apprehended him, and brings him to his trial  
Tomorrow morning: thou hast heard this news.  Ma. 
I have my Liege, and every circumstance  
That can be thought on in the business.  King. 
And what will be the issue by the Law.  Ma. 
He must die for it, the case is plain,  
Unless your grace will grant his pardon.  King. 
But can there be no means thought upon  
To save him by the Law.  Matho. 
None my Lord.  King. 
Surely there may, speak man, I'll give thee  
Double Fees.  Ma. 
It cannot be my Liege, the Statutes is plain.  King. 
Nay now thou art too honest, thou shouldst do  
As other Lawyers do, first take my money,  
And then tell me thou canst do me good.  Ma. 
I dare not undertake it, could it be done,  
I'd go as far as any man would do.  King. 
Yes if 'twere to cut a poor man's throat you could,  
For some rich griping Landlord you could grinned  
The face of his poor Tenant, stretch the Law  
To serve his turn, and guided by his Angels,  
Speak Oracles more than the tongues of men,  
Than you could find exceptions, reservations,  
Stand at a word, a syllable, a letter,  
Or coin some scruples out of your own brains,  
But in a cause so full of equity  
So charitable as this, you can find nothing,  
I shall for ever hate all your profession.  Ma. 
I do beseech your Highness to excuse me,  
I cannot do more than your laws will let me,  
Nor falsify my knowledge nor my conscience.  King. 
Then I am miserable, rise Matho rise,  
I do not discommend thy honesty,  
But blame my own hard fate, ay Philocles  
I would redeem thy life at any price,  
But the Stars cross it, cruel fate condemns thee.  Exeunt. Enter Constable and Watch. Con. 
Come fellow watchmen, for now you are my fellows,  Watch. 
It pleases you to call us so master Constable.  Con. 
I do it to encourage you in your office, it is a trick that we commanders have, your great Captains call your soldier's fellow soldiers to encourage them.  2. Watch. 
Indeed and so they do, I heard master Curate trading a story book other day to that purpose.  Con. 
Well I must show now what you have to do, for I myself before I came to this prefermity, was as simple as one of you, and for your better destruction, I will deride my speech into two parts. First, what is a watchman. Secondly, what is the office of a watchman. For the first, if any man ask me what is a watchman, I may answer him, he is a man as others are, nay a tradesman, as a Vintner, a Tailor, or the like, for they have long bills.  3 Wat. 
He tells us true neighbour, we have bills indeed.  Con. 
For the second, what is his office; I answer, he may by virtue of his office reprehend any person, or persons, that walk the streets too late at a seasonable hour.  4. Wat 
may we indeed master Constable.  Con. 
Nay, if you meet any of those rogues at seasonable hours, you may by virtue of your office commit him to prison, and then ask him whither he was going.  1 Watch. 
Why that's as much as my Lord Maior does.  Con. 
True, my Lord Maior can do no more than you in that point.  2. Wat. 
But master constable what if he should resist us.  Con. 
Why if he do resist, you may knock him down, and then bid him stand, and come afore the Constable. av now I thinke you are sufficiently constructed concerning you office take your stands, you shall hear rogues walking at these seasonable hours, I warrant you, stand close.  Enter Eugenio. 
Purpose, now do I take as much care to be apprehended,  
As others do to scape the watch, I must speak  
To be overheard, and plainly too, or else these dolts  
Will never conceive me.  Con. 
Hark who goes by?  Eu. 
Oh my conscience, my conscience, the terror of a Guilty conscience.  Con. 
How, conscience talks he of,  
He's an honest man, I warrant him, let him pass  2. Wa. 
I ay, let him pass, good night honest gentleman.  Eu. 
These are wise officers, I must be plainer yet.  
That gold, that cursed gold, that made me poison him  
Made me poison Eugenio.  Con. 
How made me poison him, he's a knave I warrant him.  3. Wa. 
M. Constable has found him already,  Con. 
I warrant you a knave cannot pass me, go reprehend him, I'll take his excommunication myself.  1. Wa. 
Come afore the constable  2. Wa. 
Come afore the Constable.  Con. 
Sirrah, sirrah, you would have scaped  
Would you, no sirrah you shall know the king's  
Officers have eyes to hear such rogues as you,  
Come sirrah, confess who it was you poisoned, he  
Looks like a notable rogue.  1. Wa. 
I do not like  
His looks.  2. Wa. 
nor I.  Con. 
You would deny it  
Would you sirrah, we shall sift you,  Eu. 
Alas master  Con. 
I cannot now deny what I have said  
You over heard me, I poisoned Eugenio son to  
Lord Polimetes.  1. Wa. 
Oh rascal.  2. Wa. 
my  
Young Landlord.  Con. 
Let him alone, the law  
Shall punish him, but sirrah where did you poison  
Him.  Eu. 
About a day's journey hence, as he was  
Coming hom from Athens I met him, and  
Poisoned him.  Con. 
But sirrah who set you a work  
Confess, I shall find out the whole nest of their  
Rogues, speak.  Eu. 
Count Virro hired me to do it.  Con. 
Oh lying Rascal.  1. Wat. 
Nay he that will steal will lie.  2. Wat. 
I'll believe nothing he says.  3. Wat. 
Be lie a man of worship.  4. Wat. 
A noble man  Con. 
Away with him, I'll hear no more, remit him to  
Prison; Sirrah, you shall hear of these things  
Tomorrow, where you would be loath to hear 'em.  
Come let's go. exeunt.   

Actus quintus.  Enter Franklin, Shallow, Luce, Francisco in a parson's habit, and a true Parson otherwise attired. Frank. 
I'll take your counsel Sir, I'll not be seen in't, but meet you when 'tis done, you'll marry them.  Fran. 
Fear not that Sir, I'll do the deed.  Frank. 
I shall rest thankful to you, till then I'll leave you.  Sha. 
I pray father leave us, we know how to behave ourselves alone, methinks Luce we are too many by two yet.  Luce. 
You are merry Sir. exeunt manet Franklin.  Frank. 
Now they are sure or never, poor Francisco  
Thou metst thy match, when thou durst undertake  
To overreach me with tricks, where's now your Sumner?  
Fore heaven I cannot but applaud my brain,  
To take my daughter even against her will,  
And great with child by another, her shame published,  
She cited to the Court, and yet bestow her  
On such a fortune as rich Shallow is,  
Nay that which is the Masterpiece of all,  
Make him believe 'tis his, though he ne'er touched her,  
If men ne'er met with crosses in the world,  
There were no difference 'twixt the wise and fools,  
but I'll go meet 'em, when 'tis done, I fear not. exit.  Enter Francisco, Parson, Shallow, Luce. Fran. 
Nay fret not now, you have been worse abused  
If you had married her, she never loved you.  Luce. 
I ever scorned thy folly and hated thee, though  
Sometimes afore my father I would make an Ass  
Of thee.  Shal. 
Oh women, monstrous women,  
Little does her father know who has married her.  Luce. 
Yes, he knows the Parson married me,  
And you can witness that.  Fran. 
And he shall know the Parson will lie with her.  Shal. 
Well Parson, I will be revenged on all thy coat,  
I will not plough an Acre of ground for you to  
tithe, I'll rather pasture my neighbour's cattle  
For nothing.  Par. 
Oh be more charitable Sir, bid God give 'em joy.  Shal. 
I care not greatly if I do, he is not the first  
Parson that has taken a gentleman's leavings.  Fran. 
How mean you Sir?  Shal. 
You guess my meaning, I hope to have good luck  
To horseflesh now she is a parson's wife.  Fran. 
You have lain with her then Sir.  Shal. 
I cannot tell you that, but if you saw a woman with child without lying with a man, than perhaps I have not.  Luce. 
Impudent Coxcomb, darest thou say that ever thou layst with me, didst thou ever so much as kiss my hand in private.  Shal. 
These things must not be spoken of in company.  Luce. 
Thou know'st I ever hated thee.  Shal. 
But when you were i'th' good humour you would tell me another tale.  Luce. 
The fool is mad, by heaven my Francisco I am wronged. He discovers himself.  Fran. 
Then I must change my note, sirrah, unsay  
What you have spoken, swear here before  
The Parson and myself, you never touched her, or  
I'll cut thy throat, it is Francisco threatens thee.  Shal. 
I am in a sweet case, what should I do now, her  
Father thinks I have lain with her, if I deny it  
he'll have about with me, if I say I have, this  
Young rogue will cut my throat.  Fran. 
Come will you swear.  Shal. 
I would I were fairly off, I would lose my wench with all my heart, I swear.  Fran. 
So, now thou art free from any imputation that his tongue can stick upon thee.  Enter Franklin. Frank. 
Well now I see 'tis done.  Shal. 
Her's one  
Shall talk with you.  Frank. 
God give you joy son  
 Shallow. Fran. 
I thank you father.  Frank. 
How's this, Francisco in the parson's habit,  Fran 
I have married her as you bade me Sir, but this  
Was the truer Parson of the two, he tied the  
Knot and this Gentleman is our witness.  Frank. 
I am undone, Strumpet thou hast betrayed thyself to beggary, to shame beside, and that in open Court, but take what thou hast sought, hang, beg, and starve, i'll pity thee.  Luce. 
Good Sir.  Shal. 
I told you what would come on't.  Frank. 
How did your wisdom lose her?  Shal. 
av as you see. I was beguiled, and so were you.  Frank. 
Francisco take her, thou seest the portion thou art like to have.  Fran. 
'tis such a portion as will ever please me, but for her sake be not unnatural.  Luce. 
Do not reject me father.  Fran. 
But for the fault that she must answer for, or shame she should endure in Court, behold her yet an untouched Virgin, Cushion come av, av signior Shallow, take your child unto you, make much of prove, it may prove as wise as the father.  He the Cushion at him. Frank 
This is more strange than tother, ah Luce, wert  
Thou so subtle to deceive thyself, and me; well  
Take thy, 'tis thine own choice.  Fran. 
Sir we can force no bounty from you, and av must rest content with what your pleasure is.  Enter Euphues, Alphonso. Al. 
av_d he is my Lord, that's he in the Parsons Habet, he is av disguisd about the business I told you of Lysandro, see your noble father.  Eu. 
Welcome my long lost son from all the storms  
Of frowning fortune that thou hast endured  
Into thy father's arms.  Luce. 
Is my Francisco noble.  Frank. 
Lord Euphues son, I am amazed.  Eup. 
I hear Lysandro that you are married.  Francisco. 
Yes my Lord, this is my Bride, the Daughter and Heir of this rich Gentleman, 'twas only she that when my state was nothing, my poor self and Parentage unknown, vouchsafed to know, nay grace me with her love, her constant love.  Euph. 
Such merit must not be forgot my son,  
Daughter much joy attend upon your choice.  Fran. 
Now wants but your consent.  Frank. 
Which with a willing heart I do bestow,  
Pardon me worthy son, I have so long  
Been hard to you, 'twas ignorance  
Of what you were, and care I took for her.  Fran. 
Your care needs no Apology.  Euph. 
But now Lysandro I must make thee sad  
Upon thy wedding day, and let thee know  
There is no pure and uncompounded joy  
Lent to mortality, in depth of woe  
Thou metst the knowledge of thy parentage,  
Thy elder brother Philocles must die,  
cc in his tragedy, our name and house  
Had sunk for ever, had not gracious heaven  
Sent as a courtier to my childless age,  
Thy long lost self supporter of the name.  Franc. 
But can there be no means to save his life.  Euph. 
Alas ther 's none, the King has ta'en an oath  
Never to pardon him, but since they say  
His Majesty repents, and fain would save him.  Franc, 
Then up I wretched, like a man long blind,  
That comes at last to see the wished for son,  
But find it in eclipse, such is my case,  
To meet in this dark woe my dearest friends,  Eu. 
Had you not heard this news before Lysandro?  Fran. 
Yes Sir, and did lament,  
As for a worthy stranger, but ne'er knew  
My sorrow stood engaged by such a tie  
As brotherhood, where may we see him Sir?  Eu. 
This morning he's arraigned, put of that habit  
You are in, and go along with me, leave your  
Friends hear awhile.  Fran. 
Farewell father,  
Dear Luce till soon farewell, nought but so sad  
A chance, could make me cloudy now. Exeunt  Frank: 
Well Luce thy choice has proved better than we  
Expected, but this cloud of grief has dimmed  
Our mirth, but will I hope blow over,  
Heaven grant it may.  
And signior Shallow, though you have missed what  
My love meant you once, pray be my guest.  Shal. 
I thank you Sir, I'll not be strange. Exeunt  Enter King, Nicanor. King. 
Nicanor, I would find some privy place  
Where I might stand unseen, unknown of any,  
To hear the arraignment of young Philocles.  Ni. 
The judges are now entering, please you Sir  
Here to ascend, you may both hear and see.  King. 
Well I'll go up,  
And like a jealous husband here and see  
That that will strike me dead, am I a King  
And cannot pardon such a small offence,  
I cannot do't, nor am I Caesar now,  
Lust has uncrowned me, and my rash ta'e oath  
Has reft me of a king's prerogative,  
Come come Nicanor, help me to ascend,  
And see that fault that I want power to mend. Ascendant  Enter▪ 3 Iudges, Virro, Polimetes, Euphues, Francisco, Leucothoe, Clerimont, Roscio. 1. Iu. 
Bring forth the prisoner, where are the witnesses?  Pol. 
Here my Lords, I am the wronged party,  
And the fact my man, here besides the Officers  
That took them can justify.  2. Iu. 
That's enough.  Enter Philocles with a guard. 1. Iu. 
Philocles stand to the Bar, and answer to such  
Crimes as shall be here objected against thy life.  
read the indictment.  Phi. 
Spare that labour,  
I do confess the fact that I am charged with,  
And speak as much as my accusers can,  
As much as all the witnesses can prove,  
'twas I that stole away the Daughter and Heir  
Of the Lord Polimetes, which wert to do again  
Rather than lose her, I again would venture,  
This was the fact, your sentence honoured fathers.  Cler. 
'tis brave and resolute.  1. Iu. 
A heavy sentence noble Philocles,  
And such a one, as I could wish myself  
Off from this place, some other might deliver,  
You must die for it, death is your sentence.  Phi. 
Which I embrace with willingness, now my Lord, to Pol.  
Is your hate glutted yet, or is my life  
Too poor a sacrifice to appease the rancour  
Of your inveterate malice, if it be to  
Invent some scandal that may after blot  
My reputation, father dry your tears,  
Weep not for me, my death shall leave no stain  
Upon your blood, nor blot on your fair name:  
The honoured ashes of my ancestors  
May still rest quiet in their tear wet Urns  
For any fact of mine, I might have lived  
If heaven had not prevented it, and found  
Death for some foul dishonourable act.  
Brother farewell, no sooner have I found to Francisco  
But I must leave thy wished for company.  
Farewell my dearest love, live thou still happy,  
And may some one of more desert than I,  
Be blessed in the enjoying what I lose,  
I need not wish him happiness that has thee,  
For thou wilt bring it may he prove as good  
As thou art worthy.  Leu. 
dearest Philocles,  
av is no roome for any man but thee  
Within this brest, oh good my Lords  
Be merciful, condemne vs both together  
Our faults be both a like, why should the law  
Be partial av, and lay it all on him,  1. Iu. 
Lady, I would we could as lawfully  
save him he you, he should die dye for this,  Enter Constable leading Eugenio. 
How now, who's that you have brought there?  
Con. A benefactor, if it please your Lordships,  
I reprehended him in my watch last night.  ab 
Irus is taken.  2 ab 
What's his offence?  Con, 
murder.  Watch. 
No master Constable, 'twas but poisoning of a man.  Con. 
Go thou art a fool.  Vir. 
I am undone for ever, all will out.  3 ab 
What proofs have you against him?  Con. 
His own profession if it please your honour.  3 ab 
And that s an ill profession, to be a murderer, thou  
Meanest hee has confessed the fact.  Con. 
Yes my Lord, he cannot deny it.  1 ab 
Did he not name the party who it was that he had Poisoned?  Con. 
marry with reverence be it spoken.  
It was Eugenio, my Lord Polimetes his son.  Pol. 
How's this  1. Iu 
He died long sense at Athens.  Pol. 
I cannot tell what I should think of it,  
This is the man that lately brought me news  
 2 ab 
Fellow stand to the bar, thou hear'st thy accusation  
What canst thou say.  Eug. 
Ah my good Lord,  
I cannot av deny what I have said,  
This man, o'erheard me, as my bleeding heart  
Was making confession of my crime.  Con. 
I told him an t shall please your Lordship's  
The king's officers had eyes to hear such rascals.  1. Iu. 
You have been careful in your office Constable,  
You may now leave your Prisoner,  Con. 
I'll leave the fell on with your Lordship.  1. Iu. 
Farewell good  Con. 
Murder I see will out. exit Con.  
Why didst thou poison him.  Eug. 
I was poor,  
And want made me be hired.  2. Iu. 
Hired, by whom?  Eu. 
By Count Virro,  
There he stands.  Vir. 
I do beseech your Lordships not to credit  
What this base fellow speaks, I am innocent.  1. Iu. 
I do believe you are, sirrah speak truth,  
You have not long to live.  Eu. 
Please it your Lordship  
I may relate the manner.  3. Iu. 
do.  Eug. 
Eugenio was alive when first the news  
Was spread in Syracuse he was dead,  
Which false report Count Virro crediting,  
Became an earnest suitor to his Sister  
Thinking her Heir, but finding afterwards  
Her brother lived, and coming home  
Not a day's journey hence, he sent me to him,  
And with a promise of five hundred crowns  
Hired me to poison him, that this is true  
here's his own hand to witness it against him,  
Please it your Lordships to peruse the writing.  1. Iu. 
This is his hand.  2. Iu. 
Sure as I live,  
I have seen Warrants from him with just these  
Characters.  3. Iu. 
Besides methinks this fellow's  
Tale is likely.  Pol. 
'tis too true,  
This fellows sudden going from my house  
Put me into a fear.  1. Iu. 
Count Virro, stand to the bar,  
What can you say to clear you of this murder?  Vir. 
Nothing my Lords, I must confess the fact.  2. Iu. 
Why then against you both do I pronounce.  
Sentence of death.  Amb. 
The Law is just.  Pol. 
Wretch that I am, is my dissembled grief  
Turned to true sorrow, were my acted tears  
But prophecies of my ensuing woe,  
And is he truly dead. oh pardon me  
Dear Ghost of my Eugenio, 'twas my fault  
That called this hasty vengeance from the Gods,  
And shortened thus thy life, for whilst with tricks  
I sought to fasten wealth upon our house,  
I brought a cannibal to be the grave  
Of me and mine, base bloody murderous Count.  Vir. 
Vile cozener, cheating Lord, dissembler.  1 Iu. 
Peace, stop the mouth of malediction there,  
This is no place to rail in.  Eu. 
Ye just powers,  
That to the quality of man's offence,  
Shape your correcting rods, and punish there  
Where he has sinned, did not my bleeding heart  
Bear such a heavy share in this day's woe,  
I could with a free soul applaud your justice.  Pol. 
Lord Euphues and Philocles forgive me  
To make amends, I thinks impossible  
For what my malice wrought, but I would fain  
Do somewhat that might testify my grief  
cc true repentance.  Eu. 
This is that I looked for.  Eup. 
You're kind too late my Lord, had you been thus  
When neede required, you'd saved yourself and me,  
Our hapless sons, but if your grief be true  
I can forgive you heartily.  Phi. 
And I,  Eug. 
Now comes my que, my Lord Polimetes,  
under correction let me ask one question.  Pol. 
What question? speak.  Eu. 
if this young Lord  
Should liue, would you bestow your Daughter  
Willingly upon him, would you Lord?  Pol. 
As willingly as I would breathe myself.  Eug. 
Then dry all your eyes,  
av 's hear man hear shall have a cause to weep, to Phil.  
Your life, is sau'd, Leucothoe is no Heir,  
Her brother lives, and that clears you Count Virro  
Of your supposed murder.  All. 
How, lives?  Eu. 
Yes lives to call thee brother Philocles.  He discovers himself. Leu. 
Oh my dear Brother.  Pol. 
My son,  
Welcome from death.  Eu. 
Pardon me good my Lord that I thus long  
Have from your knowledge kept myself concealed,  
My end was honest.  Pol. 
I see 'twas,  
And now son Philocles give me thy hand,  
Here take thy wife, she loves thee I dare swear,  
And for the wrong that I intended thee,  
Her portion shall be double what I meant it.  Phi. 
I thank your Lordship.  Pol. 
Brother Euphues,  
I hope all enmity is now forgot  
Betwixt our houses.  Eu. 
Let it be ever so, I do embrace your love.  Vir. 
Well my life is saved yet, though my wench be lost,  
God give you joy.  Phi. 
Thanks good my Lord.  1. Iu. 
How suddenly this tragic scene is charged,  
And turned to Comedy  2. Iu. 
'tis very strange. The King speaks from above  Pol. 
Let us conclude within.  King. 
Stay,  
And take my joy with you.  Eup. 
His Majesty  
Is coming down, let us attend. Enter King.  King. 
These jars are well closed up, now Philocles,  
What my rash oath denied me, this blessed hour  
And happy accident has brought to pass,  
The saving of thy life.  Phi. 
A life my Liege,  
That shall be ever ready to be spent  
Upon your service.  King. 
Thanks good Philocles,  
But where's the man whose happy presence brought  
All this unlooked for sport: where is Eugenio?  Eu. 
Here my dread Liege.  King. 
Welcome to Syracuse,  
Welcome Eugenio, prithee ask some boon  
That may requite the good that thou hast done.  Eu. 
I thank your Majesty, what I have done  
Needs no requital, but I have a suit  
Unto Lord Euphues, please it your Majesty  
To be to him an intercessor for me,  
I make no question but I shall obtain.  King. 
What is it? speak, it shall be granted thee.  Eu. 
That it would please him to bestow on me  
His Niece, the fair and virtuous Lady Leda.  Euph. 
With all my heart, I know 'twill please her well,  
I have often heard her praise Eugenio,  
It shall be done within.  King. 
Then here all strife ends,  
I'll be your guest myself today, and help  
To solemnize this double marriage.  Pol. 
Your royal presence shall much honour us.  King. 
Then lead away, the happy knot you tie,  
Concludes in love two houses enmity.   
FINIS.   

epilogus.  
Our author's heir if it be legitimate  
'tis his, if not, he dares the worst of fate,  
For if a Bastard, charity is such,  
That what you give, it cannot be too much,  
And he, and we, vow if it may be shown,  
To do as much for yours, as for our own.  
FINIS.