AGLAURA.  
LONDON, Printed by john Haviland for Thomas Walkley, and are to be sold at his shop at the Sign of the Flying Horse between York-house and Britain's Burse. 1638.   

Aprilis 18. 1638.  
Imprimatur, MATTH. CLAY.   

PROLOGUE.  

I'Ve thought upon't; and cannot tell which way  
Ought I can say now, should advance the Play.  
For Plays are either good, or bad; the good,  
(If they do beg) beg to be understood.  
And in good faith, that has as bold a sound,  
As if a beggar should ask twenty pound.  
— Men have it not about them:  
Then (Gentlemen) if rightly understood,  
The bad do need less Prologue than the good:  
For if it chance the Plot be lame, or blind,  
Ill clothed, deformed throughout, it needs must find  
Compassion,— It is a beggar without Art:—  
But it falls out in penny worths of Wit,  
As in all bargains else. Men ever get  
All they can in; will have London measure,  
A handful over in their very pleasure.  
And now ye have't; he could not well deny'ee,  
And I dare swear he's scarce a saver by ye.   

Prologue to the Court.  
THose common passions, hopes, and fears, that still,  
The Poets first and then the Prologues fill  
In this our age, he that writ this, by me,  
Protests against as modest foolery.  
He thinks it an odd thing to be in pain,  
For nothing else, but to be well again.  
Who writes to fear is so; had he not writ;  
You ne'er had been the judges of his wit;  
And when he had, did he but then intent  
To please himself, he sure might have his end  
Without th'expense of hope, and that he had  
That made this Play, although the Play be bad.  
Then Gentlemen be thrifty, save your dooms  
For the next man, or the next Play that comes;  
For smiles are nothing, where men do not care,  
And frowns as little, where they need not fear.   

To the King.  
THis (Sir) to them, but unto Majesty.  
All he has said before, he does deny.  
Yet not to Majesty: that were to bring  
His fears to be, but for the Queen and King,  
Not for yourselves; and that he dares not say:  
Y'are his Sovereigns another way:  
Your souls are Princes, and you have as good  
A title that way, as ye have by blood  
To govern, and here your powers more great  
And absolute, than in the royal Seat.  
There men dispute, and but by Law obey,  
Here is no Law at all, but what ye say.    

Scena Persia.  

KING, In love with Aglaura.  
THERSAMES, Prince, in love with Aglaura.  
ORBELLA, Queen, at first Mistress to Ziriff: in love with Ariaspes.  
ARIASPES, Brother to the King.  
ZIRIFF, Otherways Sorannez disguised, Captain of the Guard, in love with Orbella, brother to Aglaura.  
JOLAS, A Lord of the Council, seeming friend to the Prince, but a Traitor, in love with Semanthe.  
AGLAURA, In love with the Prince, but named Mistress to the King.  
ORSAMES, A young Lord antiplatonique; friend to the Prince.  
PHILAN, The same.  
SEMANTHE, In love with Ziriff; platonique.  
ORITHIE, In love with Thersames.  
PASITHAS, A faithful servant.  
JOLINAS, Aglaura's waiting-woman.  
COURTIERS.  
HUNTSMEN.  
PRIEST.  
GUARD.    

AGLAURA.  

ACTUS I.  

SCENA I.  Enter JOLAS, JOLINA. JOLAS, 
MArried? and in Diana's Grove!  JOLIN. 
So was th'appointment, or my Sense deceived me.  JOLAS, 
Married!  
Now by those Powers that tie those pretty knots,  
'tis very fine, good faith 'tis wondrous fine:  JOLIN. 
What is, Brother?  JOLAS, 
Why? to marry Sister—  
t'enjoy 'twixt lawful and unlawful thus  
a happiness, steal as 'twere one's own;  
Diana's Grove, sayest thou?— Scratcheth his head.  JOLIN. 
That's the place; the hunt once up, and all  
engaged in the sport, they mean to leave  
the company, and steal unto those thickets,  
where, there's a Priest attends them;  JOLAS, 
And will they lie together, think'st thou?  JOLIN. 
Is there distinction of sex think you?  
or flesh and blood?  JOLAS, 
True; but the King, Sister!  JOLIN. 
But love, Brother!  JOLAS, 
Thou sayest well;  
'tis fine, 'tis wondrous fine:  
Diana's grove—  JOLIN. 
Yes, Diana's grove,  
but brother if you should speak of this now,—  JOLAS, 
Why thou know'st a drowning man holds not a thing so fast:  
Semanthe! she shuns me too:  Enter Semanthe, she sees Jolas, and goes in again. JOLIN. 
The wound festered sure!  
the hurt the boy gave her, when first  
she looked abroad into the world, is not yet cured.  JOLAS, 
What hurt?  JOLIN. 
Why, know you not  
she was in love long since with young Zorannes',  
(Aglaura's brother,) and the now Queens betrothed?  JOLAS, 
Some such slight Tale I've heard.  JOLIN. 
'Slight? she yet does weep, when she but hears him named,  
and tells the prettiest and the saddest stories  
of all those civil wars, and those Amours,  
That, trust me, both my Lady and myself  
turn weeping Statues still.  JOLAS, 
Pish, 'tis not that.  
'Tis Ziriff, and his fresh glories here  
have robbed me of her.  
Since he thus appeared in Court,  
my love has languished worse than Plants in drought.  
But time's a good Physician: come, le's in:  
the King and Queen by this time are come forth.  Exeunt. Enter Serving-men to Ziriff. 1 SERU. 
Yonder's a crowd without, as if some strange sight  
were to be seen to day here.  2 SERU. 
Two or three with Carbonadoes afore in stead of faces  
mistook the door for a breach, and at the opening of it,  
are striving still which should enter first.  3 SERU. 
Is my Lord busy?  (Knocks.) Enter Ziriff as in his Study. 1 SERU. 
My Lord, there are some Soldiers without—  ZIR. 
Well, I will dispatch them presently.  2 SERU. 
th'ambasssadors from the Cadusians too—  ZIR. 
Show them the Gallery.  3 SERU. 
One from the King—  ZIR. 
Again? I come, I come.  Exeunt Serving-men. Ziriff solus. 
Greatness, thou vainer shadow of the Prince's beams,  
begot by mere reflection, nourished in extremes;  
first taught to creep, and live upon the glance,  
poorly to fare, till thine own proper strength  
bring thee to surfeit of thyself at last.  
How dull a Pageant, would this States-play seem  
to me now; were not my love and my revenge  
mixed with it?—  
Three tedious Winters have I waited here,  
like patient Chemists blowing still the coals,  
and still expecting, when the blessed hour  
would come, should make me master of  
the Court Elixir, Power, for that turns all:  
'tis in projection now; down, sorrow, down,  
and swell my heart no more, and thou wronged ghost  
of my dead father, to thy bed again,  
and sleep securely;  
it cannot now be long, for sure Fate must,  
as't has been cruel, so, a while be just.  Exit. Enter King and Lords, the Lords entreating for Prisoners. KING. 
I say they shall not live; our mercy  
would turn sin, should we but use it ere:  
Pity, and Love, the bosses only be  
of government, merely for show and ornament.  
Fear is the bit that man's proud will restrains,  
and makes its vice its virtue— See it done.  Enter to them Queen, Aglaura, Ladies, the King addresses himself to Aglaura. 
So early, and so curious in your dress, (fair Mistress?)  
these pretty ambushes and traps for hearts  
set with such care to day, look like design:  
speak, Lady, is't a massacre resolved?  
is conquering one by one grown tedious sport?  
or is the number of the taken such,  
that for your safety you must kill outright?  AGL. 
Did none do greater mischief (Sir) than I,  
heaven would not much be troubled with sad story,  
nor would the quarrel man has to the Stars  
be kept alive so strongly.  KING. 
When he does leave't  
woman must take it up, and justly too;  
for robbing of the sex and giving all to you.  AGL. 
Their weaknesses you mean, and I confess, Sir.  KING. 
The greatest subjects of their power or glory.  
Such gentle rape thou act'st upon my soul,  
and with such pleasing violence dost force it still;  
that when it should resist, it tamely yields,  
making a kind of haste to be undone,  
as if the way to victory were loss,  
and conquest came by overthrow.  Enter an Express delivering a Packet upon his knee. The King reads. QU. 
Pretty!  The Queen looking upon a flower in one of the Lady's heads. 
Is it the child of nature, or of some fair hand?  LA. 
'Tis as the beauty Madam of some faces,  
Arts issue only.  KING. 
Thersames,  
This concerns you most, brought you her picture?  EXP. 
Something made up for her in haste I have.  Presents the Picture. KING. 
If she does owe no part of this fair dower  
unto the Painter, she is rich enough.  AGL. 
A kind of merry sadness in this face  
becomes it much.  KING. 
There is indeed, Aglaura,  
a pretty sullenness dressed up in smiles,  
that says this beauty can both kill, and save.  
How like you her Thersames?  THER. 
As well as any man can do a house  
by seeing of the portal, here's but a face,  
and faces (Sir) are things I have not studied;  
I have my duty, and may boldly swear,  
what you like best will ever please me most.  KING. 
Spoke like Thersames, and my son,  
come! the day holds fair,  
let all the Huntsmen meet us in the vale,  
we will uncouple there.  Exeunt. Ariaspes: solus stays behind. ARIASP. 
How odd a thing a crowd is unto me!  
sure nature intended I should be alone,  
had not that old doting man-mid-wife Time  
slept, when he should have brought me forth, I had  
been so too—  Studies and scratches his head. 
To be borne near, and only near a crown—  Enter Jolas. JOL. 
How now my Lord?  
what? walking o'th'tops of Pyramids?  
whispering yourself away  
like a denied lover? come! to horse, to horse,  
and I will show you straight a sight shall please you  
more than kind looks from her you dote upon  
after a falling out.  ARIASP. 
Prithee what is't?  JOL. 
I'll tell you as I go.—  Exeunt. Enter Huntsmen hollowing and whooping. HUNT. 
Which way? which way?  Enter Thersames, Aglaura muffled. THER. 
This is the grove, 'tis somewhere here within.—  Exeunt. Enter dogging of them, Ariaspes, Jolas. JOL. 
Gently! Gently!  Enter Orsames, Philan, a Huntsman, two Courtiers. HUNTS. 
No hurt, my Lord, I hope.  ORS. 
None, none,  
Thou wouldst have warranted it to another,  
if I had broke my neck:  
what? dost think my horse and I show tricks?  
that which way soever he throws me  
like a Tumblers boy I must fall safe?  
was there a bed of roses there? would I were Eunuch if I had not as lief ha' fall'n in the state, as where I did, the ground was as hard, as if it had been paved with Platonic Ladies hearts, and this unconscionable fellow asks whether I have no hurt; where's my horse?  1 COURT. 
Making love to the next mare I think.  2 COURT. 
Not the next I assure you,  
he 's galloped away, as if all the spurs i'th' field  
were in his sides.  ORS. 
Why there's it: the jade's in the fashion too.  
Now h'as done me an injury, he will not come near me.  
Well when I hunt next, may it be upon a starved cow,  
without a saddle too.  
And may I fall into a saw-pit, and not be taken up, but with suspicion of having been private, with mine own beast there. Now I better consider on't too, Gentlemen, 'tis but the same thing we do at Court; here's every man striving who shall be foremost, and hotly pursuing of what he seldom overtakes, or if he does, it's no great matter.  PHI. 
He that's best horsed (that is best friended) gets in soon, and then all he has to do is to laugh at those that are behind. Shall we help you my Lord?—  ORS. 
Prithee do— stay!  
To be in view, is to be in favour,  
is it not?  PHI. 
Right,  
and he that has a strong faction against him, hunts upon a cold sent, and may in time come to a loss.  ORS. 
Here's one rides two miles about, while another leaps a ditch and is in before him.  PHI. 
Where note the indirect way's the nearest.  ORS. 
Good again—  PHI. 
And here's another puts on, and falls into a quagmire, (that is) follows the Court till he has spent all (for your Court quagmire is want of money) there a man is sure to stick, and then not one helps him out, if they do not laugh at him.  1 COURT. 
What think you of him, that hunts after my rate and never sees the Dear?  2 COURT. 
Why he is like some young fellow, that follows the Court, and never sees the King.  ORS. 
To spur a horse till he is tired, is  PHI. 
To importune a friend till he be weary of you.  ORS. 
For then upon the first occasion y'are thrown off, as I was now.  PHI. 
This is nothing to the catching of your horse Orsames.  ORS. 
Thou sayst true, I think he is no transmigrated Philosopher, and therefore not likely to be taken with morals.  
Gentlemen— your help, the next I hope will be yours, and then 'twill be my turn.—  Exeunt. Enter again married, There, Aglaura, Priest. there's. 
Fear not my Deer, if when Love's diet  
was bare looks and those stolen too,  
he yet did thrive! what then  
will he do now? when every night will be  
a feast, and every day fresh revelry.  AGL. 
Will he not surfeit, when he once shall come  
to grosser fare (my Lord) and so grow sick,  
and Love once sick, how quickly will it die?  THER. 
Ours cannot; 'tis as immortal as the things  
that elemented it, which were our souls:  
nor can they ere impair in health, for what  
these holy rites do warrant us to do,  
more than our bodies would for quenching thirst.  
Come let's to horse, we shall be missed,  
for we are envies mark, and Court eyes carry far.  
Your prayers and silence Sir:—  to the Priest. Exeunt. Enter Ariaspes, Jolas. ARI. 
If it succeed? I wear thee here my jolas'—  JOL. 
If it succeed? will night succeed the day?  
or hours one to another? is not his lust  
the Idol of his soul? and was not she  
the Idol of his lust? as safely he might  
have stolen the Diadem from off his head,  
and he would less have missed it.  
You now, my Lord, must raise his jealousy,  
teach it to look through the false optic fear,  
and make it see all double: Tell him the Prince  
would not have thus presumed, but that he does  
intent worse yet; and that his crown and life  
will be the next attempt.  ARI. 
Right, and I will urge  
how dangerous 'tis unto the present state,  
To have the creatures, and the followers  
of the next Prince (whom all now strive to please)  
too near about him:  JOL. 
What if the malcontents that use  
to come unto him were discovered?  ARI. 
By no means; for 'twere in vain to give  
him discontent (which too must needs be done)  
if they within him gave't not nourishment.  JOL. 
Well, I'll away first for the print's too big  
if we be seen together.—  Exit. ARI. 
I have so fraught this Bark with hope, that it  
dares venture now in any storm, or weather;  
and if he sink or splits, all's one to me.  
" Ambition seems all things, and yet is none,  
" but in disguise stalks to opinion  
" and fools it into faith, for every thing:  
'Tis not with th'ascending to a Throne,  
As 'tis with stairs, and steps, that are the same;  
For to a Crown, each humour's a degree;  
and as men change, and differ, so must we.  
The name of virtue doth the people please,  
not for their love to virtue, but their case,  
and Parrot Rumour I that tale have taught.  
By making love I hold the woman's grace,  
'tis the Court double key, and entrance gets  
to all the little plots; the fiery spirits  
my love to Arms hath drawn into my faction;  
all, but the minion of the Time, is mine,  
and he shall be, or shall not be at all.  
He that beholds a wing in pieces torn,  
and knows not that to heaven it once did bear  
the high-flowne and selfe-less'ning bird, will think  
and call them idle Subjects of the wind:  
when he that has the skill to imp and bind  
these in right places, will thus truth discover;  
That borrowed Instruments do oft convey  
the Soul to her proposed Intents, and where  
our Stars deny, Art may supply—  Exit. Enter Semanthe, Orithie, Orsames, Philan. SEM. 
Think you it is not then  
the little jealousies (my Lord) and fears,  
joy mixed with doubt, and doubt revived with hope  
that crown all love with pleasure? these are lost  
when once we come to full fruition;  
like waking in the morning when all night  
on fancy has been fed with some new strange delight.  ORS. 
I grant you, Madam, that the fears, and joys,  
hopes, and desires, mixed with despairs, and doubts,  
do make the sport in love; that they are  
the very dogs by which we hunt the hare;  
but as the dogs would stop, and straight give o'er  
were it not for the little thing before;  
so would our passions; both alike must be  
fleshed in the chase.  ORI. 
Will you then place the happiness, but there,  
where the dull plough man and the ploughman's horse  
can find it out? Shall souls refined, not know  
how to preserve alive a noble flame,  
but let it die, burn out to appetite?  SEM. 
Love's a Chameleon, and would live on air,  
Physic for agues, starving is his food.  ORS. 
Why? there's it now! a greater Epicure  
lives not on earth; my Lord and I have been  
in 's privy kitchen, seen his bills of Fare.  SEM. 
And how, and how my Lord?  ORS. 
A mighty Prince,  
and full of curiosity— Hearts newly slain  
served up entire, and stuck with little Arrows  
in stead of Cloves—  PHI. 
Sometimes a cheek plumped up  
with broth, with cream and claret mingled  
for sauce, and round about the dish  
Pomegranate kernels, strewed on leaves of Lilies.  ORS. 
Then will he have black eyes, for those of late  
he feeds on much, and for variety  
the gray—  PHI. 
You forget his covered dishes  
of Iene-strays, and Marmalade of lips,  
perfumed by breath sweet as the beans first blossoms.  SEM. 
Rare!  
And what's the drink to all this meat, my Lord?  ORS. 
Nothing but pearl dissolved, tears still fresh, fetched  
from Lovers eyes, which if they come to be  
warm in the carriage, are straight cooled with sighs.  SEM. 
And all this rich proportion, perchance  
we would allow him:  ORS. 
True! but therefore this is but his common dinner;  
only serves  
when his chief Cooks, Liking and Opportunity,  
are out o'th' way; for when he feasts indeed,  
'tis there, where the wise people of the world  
did place the virtues, i'th' middle— Madam.  ORI. 
My Lord, there is so little hope we should convert you;  
and if we should, so little got by it,  
that we'll not lose so much upon't as sleep.  
Your Lordship's servants—  ORS. 
Nay Ladies we'll wait upon you to your chambers.  PH. 
Prithee le's spare the compliment, we shall do no good.  ORS. 
By this hand I'll try,  
they keep me fasting, and I must be praying.  Exeunt. Aglaura undressing of her self, Jolina. AGL. 
Undress me:—  
Is it not late, jolina?  
it was the longest day, this—  Enter Thersames. THER. 
Softly, as Death itself comes on,  
when it does steal away the sick man's breath,  
and standers by perceive it not,  
have I trod the way unto these lodgings.  
How wisely do those Powers  
that give us happiness, order it?  
sending us still fears to bound our joys,  
which else would overflow and lose themselves:  
see where she sits,  
like Day retired into another world.  
Dear mine! where all the beauty man admires  
in scattered pieces, does united lie.  
Where sense does feast, and yet where sweet desire  
lives in its longing, like a miser's eye,  
that never knew, nor saw satiety:  
tell me, by what approaches must I come  
to take in what remains of my felicity?  AGL. 
Needs there any new ones, where the breach  
is made already? you are entered here—  
long since (Sir) here, and I have given up all.  THER. 
All but the Fort, and in such wars, as these,  
till that be yielded up, there is no peace,  
nor triumph to be made; come! undo, undo,  
and from these envious clouds slide quick  
into Love's proper Sphere, thy bed:  
The weary traveller, whom the busy Sun  
hath vexed all day, and scorched almost to tinder,  
ne'er longed for night, as I have longed for this.  
What rude hand is that?  One knocks hastily. 
Go jolina, see, but let none enter—  jolina goes to the door. JOL. 
'Tis Ziriff, Sir.  THER. 
— Oh—  
Something of weight hath fall'n out it seems,  
which in his zeal he could not keep till morning.  
But one short minute, Dear, into that chamber.—  Enter Ziriff. 
How now?  
thou startest, as if thy sins had met thee,  
or thy Father's ghost; what news man?  ZIR. 
Such as will send the blood of hasty messages  
unto the heart, and make it call  
all that is man about you into council;  
where's the Princess, Sir?  THER. 
Why? what of her?  ZIR. 
The King must have her—  THER. 
How?  ZIR. 
The King must have her (Sir)  THER. 
Though fear of worse makes ill, still relish better,  
and this look handsome in our friendship, Ziriff,  
yet so severe a preparation—,  
there needed not: come, come! what ist?  Ziriff leads him to the door, and shows him a Guard. 
A Guard! Thersames,  
thou art lost; betrayed  
by faithless and ungrateful man,  
out of a happiness:—  He steps between the door and him, and draws. 
the very thought of that,  
will lend my anger so much noble justice,  
that wert thou master of as much fresh life,  
as thoust been of villainy, it should not serve,  
nor stock thee out, to glory, or repent  
the least of it.  ZIR. 
Put up: put up! such unbecoming anger  
I have not seen you wear before.  
What? draw upon your friend,  Discovers himself. 
do you believe me right now?—  THER. 
I scarce believe mine eyes:— Zorannes'.  ZIR. 
The same, but how preserved, or why  
thus long disguised to you, a freer hour must speak:  
That y'are betrayed is certain, but by whom,  
unless the Priest himself, I cannot guess  
more than the marriage, though he knows not of:  
if you now send her on these early summons  
before the sparks are grown into a flame,  
you do redeem th'offence, or make it less;  
and (on my life) yet his intents are fair,  
and he will but besiege, not force affection.  
So you gain time; if you refuse, there's but  
one way; you know his power and passion.  THER. 
Into how strange a labyrinth am I  
now fall'n! what shall I do Zorannes'?  ZIR. 
Do (Sir) as Seamen, that have lost their light  
and way: strike sail, and lie quiet a while.  
Your forces in the Province are not yet  
in readiness, nor is our friend Zephines  
arrived at Delphos; nothing is ripe, besides—  THER. 
Good heavens, did I but dream that she was mine?  
upon imagination did I climb up to  
this height? let me then wake and die,  
some courteous hand snatch me from what's to come,  
and ere my wrongs have being, give them end:  ZIR. 
How poor, and how unlike the Prince is this?  
this trifle woman does unman us all;  
robs us so much, it makes us things of pity.  
Is this a time to lose our anger in?  
and vainly breathe it out? when all we have  
will hardly fill the sail of Resolution,  
and make us bear up high enough for action.  THER. 
I have done (Sir) pray chide no more;  
the slave whom tedious custom has enured  
and taught to think of misery as of food,  
counting it but a necessary of life,  
and so digesting it, shall not so much as once  
be named to patience, when I am spoken of:  
mark me; for I will now undo myself  
as willingly, as virgins give up all first nights  
to them they love:—  Offers to go out. ZIR. 
Stay, Sir, 'twere fit Aglaura yet were kept  
in ignorance: I will dismiss the Guard,  
and be myself again.  Exit. THER. 
In how much worse estate am I in now,  
Than if I ne'er had known her; privation,  
is a misery as much above bare wretchedness,  
as that is short of happiness:  
So when the Sun does not appear,  
'Tis darker 'cause it once was here.  Enter Ziriff speaks to Orsames and others half entered. ZIR. 
Nay, Gentlemen:  
there needs no force, where there is no resistance:  
I'll satisfy the King myself.  THER. 
— Oh 'tis well y'are come,  
there was within me fresh Rebellion,  
and reason was almost unkinged again.  
But you shall have her Sir—  Goes out to fetch Aglaura. ZIR. 
What doubtful combats in this noble youth  
passion and reason have!—  Enter Thersames leading Aglaura. THER. 
Here Sir—  Gives her, goes out. AGL. 
What means the Prince, my Lord?  ZIR. 
Madam, his wiser fear has taught him to disguise  
his love, and make it look a little rude at parting.  
Affairs that do concern, all that you hope from  
happiness, this night force him away:  
and lest you should have tempted him to stay,  
(Which he did doubt you would and would prevail)  
he left you thus: he does desire by me  
you would this night lodge in the little tower,  
which is in my command; the reasons why  
himself will shortly tell you.  AGL. 
'Tis strange, but I am all Obedience—  Exeunt.   

ACTUS II.  

SCENA I.  Enter Thersames, Jolas a Lord of the Counsel. JOL. 
I told him so, Sir, urged 'twas no common knot,  
that to the tying of it two powerful Princes,  
Virtue and Love were joined, and that  
a greater than these two was now  
engaged in it; Religion; but 'twould not do,  
the cork of passion buoy up all reason so  
that what was said, swam but o'th'top of th'ear  
ne'er reached the heart:  THER. 
Is there no way for Kings to show their power,  
but in their Subjects wrongs? no subject neither  
but his own son?  JOL. 
Right Sir:  
no quarry for his lust to gorge on, but on what  
you fairly had flown at, and taken:  
well— wert not the King, or wert indeed  
not you, that have such hopes, and such a crown  
to venture, and yet—  
'tis but a woman.  THER. 
How? that but again, and thou arr more injurious than he, and wouled provoke me sooner.  JOL. 
Why Sir?  
there are no altars yet addressed unto her,  
nor sacrifice; if I have made her less  
than what she is, it was my love to you:  
For in my thoughts, and here within, I hold her  
the noblest piece Nature ere lent our eyes,  
and of the which, all women else, are but  
weak counterfeits, made up by her journeymen:  
but was this fit to tell you?  
I know you value but too high all that,  
and in a loss we should not make things more,  
'tis miseries happiness, that we can make it less  
by art, throw a forgetfulness upon our ills,  
Yet who can do it here?  
when every voice, must needs, and every face,  
by showing what she was not, show what she was.  THER. 
I'll instantly unto him—  draws. JOL. 
Stay Sir  
Though't be the utmost of my Fortunes hope  
to have an equal share of ill with you:  
yet I could wish we sold this trifle life,  
at a far dearer rate, than we are like to do,  
since ' 'tis a King's the Merchant.  THER. 
Ha!  
King, I! 'tis indeed,  
and there's no Art can cancel that high bond:  JOL. 
— He cools again.—  (to himself.) 
True Sir, and yet me thinks to know a reason—  
for passive nature ne'er had glorious end,  
and he that States preventions ever learned,  
knows, 'tis one motion to strike and to defend.  Enter Servingman. SERU. 
Some of the Lords without, and from the King.  
they say, wait you.  THER. 
What subtle State trick now?  
but one turn here, and I am back my lord—  Exit. JOL. 
This will not do; his resolution's like  
a skilful horseman, and reason is the stirrup,  
which though a sudden shock may make  
it lose, yet does it meet it handsomely again.  
Stay, 'tmust be some sudden fear of wrong  
to her, that may draw on a sudden act  
from him, and ruin from the King; for such  
a spirit will not like common ones, be  
raised by every spell, 'tis in love's circle  
only 'twill appear.  Enter Thersames. THER. 
I cannot bear the burden of my wrongs  
one minute longer.  JOL. 
Why! what's the matter Sir?  THER. 
They do pretend the safety of the State  
now, nothing but my marriage with Cadusia  
can secure th'adjoining country to it;  
confinement during life for me if I refuse  
Diana's Nunnery for her— And at that Nunn'rie, Iolas,  
allegiance in me like the string of a watch  
wound up too high, and forced above the nick,  
ran back, and in a moment was unravelled all.  JOL. 
Now by the love I bear to Justice,  
That Nunn'rie was too severe; when virtuous love's a crime  
what man can hope to scape a punishment,  
or who's indeed so wretched to desire it?  THER. 
Right!  JOL. 
What answer made you, Sir?  THER. 
None, they gave me till to morrow,  
and ere that be, or they or I  
must know our destiny:  
come friend let's in, there is no sleeping now;  
for time is short, and we have much to do.—  Exeunt. Enter Orsames, Philan, Courtiers. ORS. 
Judge you, Gentlemen, if I be not as unfortunate as a gamester thinks himself upon the loss  
of the last stake; this is the first she  
ay ever swore to heartily, and (by those eyes)  
I think I had continued unperjured a whole month,  
(and that's fair you'll say.)  1 COURT. 
Very fair—  ORS. 
Had she not run mad betwixt.—  2 COURT. 
How? mad?  
who? Semanthe?  ORS. 
Yea, yea, mad, ask Philan else.  
people that want clear intervals talkenot  
so wildly: I'll tell you Gallants; 'tis now, since first I found myself a little bot, and quivering 'bout the heart, some ten days since, (a tedious Ague) Sirs; (but what of that?)  
the gracious glance, and little whisper passed,  
approaches made from th'hand unto the lip,  
I came to visit her, and (as you know we use)  
breathing a sigh or two by way of prologue,  
told her, that in Love's Physic 'twas a rule,  
where the disease had birth to seek a cure;  
I had no sooner named love to her, but she  
began to talk of Flames, and Flames,  
neither devouring, nor devoured, of Air,  
and of Chameleons—  1 COURT. 
Oh the Platoniques.  2 COURT. 
Those of the new religion in love! your Lordship's merry, troth, how do you like the humour on't?  ORS. 
As thou wouldst like red hair, or leanness  
in thy Mistress; scurvily, ' tdoes worse with handsomeness,  
than strong desire would do with impotence;  
a mere trick to enhance the price of kisses—  PHI. 
Sure these silly women, when they feed  
our expectation so high, do but like  
ignorant Conjurers, that raise a Spirit  
which handsomely they cannot lay again:  ORS. 
True, 'tis like some that nourish up  
young Lions till they grow so great, they are afraid of themselves, they dare not grant at last,  
for fear they should not satisfy.  PHI. 
Who's for the Town? I must take up again,  ORS. 
This villainous Love's as chargeable as the Philosopher's Stone, and thy Mistress as hard to compass too!  PHI. 
The Platonique is ever so; they are as tedious  
before they come to the point, as an old man  
fallen into the Stories of his youth;  2. COUR. 
Or a widow into the praises of her first husband.  ORS. 
Well, if she hold out but one month longer,  
if I do not quite forget, I ere beleaguered there,  
and remove the siege to another place, may all  
the curses beguiled virgins lose upon their perjured Lovers  
fall upon me.  PHI. 
And thou wilt deserve'em all.  ORS. 
For what?  PHI. 
For being in the company of those  
that took away the Prince's Mistress from him.  ORS. 
Peace, that will be redeemed—  
I put but on this wildness to disguise myself;  
there are brave things in hand, hark i'thy ear:—  (Whisper) 1. COURT. 
Some severe plot upon a maidenhead.  
These two young Lords make love,  
as Embroiderers work against a Mask, night and day;  
They think importunity a nearer way than merit,  
and take women as Schoolboys catch Squirrels.  
hunt 'em up and down till they are weary,  
and fall down before'em.  ORS. 
Who loves the Prince fails not—  PHI. 
And I am one: my injuries are great as thine,  
and do persuade as strongly.  ORS. 
I had command to bring thee,  
fail not and in thine own disguise  PHI. 
Why in disguise?  ORS. 
It is the Prince's policy and love;  
for if we should miscarry,  
some one taken might betray the rest  
unknown to one another,  
each man is safe, in his own valour;  2. COURT. 
And what Mercer's wife are you to cheapen now in stead of his silks?  ORS. 
Troth; 'tis not so well; 'tis but a Cousin of thine— come Philan let's along:—  Exeunt. Enter Queen alone. ORB. 
What is it thus within whispering remorse,  
and calls Love Tyrant? all powers, but his,  
their rigour, and our fear, have made divine!  
But every Creature holds of him by sense,  
the sweetest Tenure; yea! but my husband's brother:  
and what of that? do harmless birds or beasts  
ask leave of curious Heraldry at all?  
Does not the womb of one fair spring,  
bring unto the earth many sweet rivers,  
that wantonly do one another chase,  
and in one bed, kiss, mingle, and embrace?  
Man (Nature's heir) is not by her will tied,  
to shun all creatures are allied unto him,  
for than he should shun all; since death and life  
doubly allies all them that live by breath:  
The Air that does impart to all life's brood,  
refreshing, is so near to itself, and to us all,  
that all in all is individual:  
But, how am I sure one and the same desire  
warms Ariaspes: for Art can keep alive  
a beddred love.  Enter Ariaspes. ARI. 
Alone, (Madam) and overcast with thought,  
uncloud— uncloud— for if we may believe  
the smiles of Fortune, love shall no longer pine  
in prison thus, nor undelivered travel  
with throes of fear, and of desire about it.  
The Prince, (like to a valiant beast in nets)  
striving to force a freedom suddenly,  
has made himself at length, the surer prey:  
the King stands only now betwixt, and is,  
just like a single tree, that hinders all the prospect:  
'tis but the cutting down of him, and we—  ORB. 
Why will't thou thus embark into strange seas,  
and trouble Fate, for what we have already?  
Thou art to me what thou now seek'st, a Kingdom;  
and were thy love as great, as thy ambition;  
I should be so to thee.  ARI. 
Think you, you are not Madam?  
as well and justly may you doubt the truths,  
tortured, or dying men do leave behind them:  
but then my fortune turns my misery,  
when my addition shall but make you less;  
shall I endure that head that wore a crown,  
for my sake should wear none? First let me lose  
th'exchequer of my wealth, your love; nay, may  
all that rich Treasury you have about you,  
be rifled by the man I hated, and I look on;  
though youth be full of sin, and heaven be just,  
so sad a doom I hope they keep not from me;  
Remember what a quick Apostasy he made,  
when all his vows were up to heaven and you.  
How, ere the Bridal torches were burnt out,  
his flames grew weak, and sicklier; think on that,  
think how unsafe you are, if she should now,  
not sell her honour at a lower rate,  
than your place in his bed.  ORB. 
And would not you prove false too then?  ARI. 
By this— and this— loves breakfast:  (Kisses her.) 
by his feasts too yet to come, by all the  
beauty in this face, divinity too great  
to be profaned—  ORB. 
O do not swear by that;  
Cankers may eat that flower upon the stalk,  
(for sickness and mischance, are great devourers)  
and when there is not in these cheeks and lips,  
left red enough to blush at perjury,  
when you shall make it, what shall I do then?  ARI. 
Our souls by that time (Madam)  
will by long custom so acquainted be,  
they will not need that duller truchman Flesh,  
but freely, and without those poorer helps,  
converse and mingle; mean time we'll teach  
our loves to speak, not thus to live by signs,  
and action is his native language, Madam,  Enter Ziriff unseen. 
this box but opened to the Sense will do't.  ORB. 
I undertake I know not what,  ARI. 
Thine own safety (Dearest)  
let it be this night, if thou dost;  Whisper and kiss. 
love thyself or me.  ORB. 
That's very sudden.  ARI. 
Not if we be so, and we must now be wise,  
For when their Sun sets, ours begins to rise.—  Exeunt. Ziriff solus. ZIR. 
Then all my fears are true, and she is false;  
false as a falling Star, or Glow-worms fire:  
This Devil Beauty is compounded strangely,  
It is a subtle point, and hard to know,  
whether't has in't more active tempting,  
or more passive tempted; so soon it forces,  
and so soon it yields—  
Good Gods! she seized my heart, as if from you  
she'd had Commission to have used me so;  
and all mankind besides— and see, if the just Ocean  
makes more haste to pay  
to needy rivers, what it borrowed first,  
than she to give, where she ne'er took;  
me thinks I feel anger, Revenges harbinger  
chalking up all within, and thrusting out  
of doors, the tame and softer passions;—  
It must be so:  
To love is noble frailty, but poor sin  
When we fall once to Love, unloved again.  Exit. Enter King, Ariaspes, Jolas. ARI. 
'Twere fit your Justice did consider, (Sir)  
what way it took; if you should apprehend  
the Prince for Treason (which he never did)  
and which, unacted, is unborn; (at least will be believed so)  
lookers on, and the loud talking crowd,  
will think it all but water colours  
laid on for a time,  
and which wiped off, each common eye would see,  
Strange ends, through stranger ways:  KING. 
Think'st thou I will compound with Treason then?  
and make one fear another's Advocate?  JOL. 
Virtue forbid Sir, but if you would permit,  
them to approach the room (yet who would advise  
Treason should come so near?) there would be then  
No place left for excuse.  KING. 
How strong are they?  JOL. 
Weak, considering  
the enterprise; they are but few in number,  
and those few too, having nothing but  
their resolutions considerable about them.  
A Troop indeed designed to suffer what  
they come to execute.  KING. 
Who are they are thus weary of their lives?  JOL. 
Their names I cannot give you.  
For those he sent for, he did still receive  
at a back door, and so dismissed them too.  
But I do think Ziriff is one.—  KING. 
Take heed! I shall suspect thy hate to others,  
not thy love to me, begot this service;  
This Treason thou thyself dost say  
has but an hour's age, and I can give account  
of him, beyond that time.— Brother, in the little Tower  
where now Aglaura's prisoner,  
you shall find him; bring him along,  
he yet doth stand untainted in my thoughts,  
and to preserve him so,  
he shall not stir out of my eyes command  
till this great cloud be over.  JOL. 
Sir, 'twas the Prince who first—  KING. 
I know all that! urge it no more!  
I love the man;  
and 'tis with pain, we do suspect,  
where we do not dislike:  
thouart sure he will have some,  
and that they will come to night?  JOL. 
As sure as night will come itself.  KING. 
Get all our Guards in readiness, we will ourself  
disperse them afterwards; and both be sure  
to wear your thoughts within: I'll act the rest:  Exeunt. Enter Philan, Orsames, Courtiers. 2. COURT. 
Well.— If there be not some great storm towards,  
ne'er trust me; Whisper (Court Thunder) is in  
every corner, and there has been to day  
about the Town a murmuring  
and buzzing, such as men use to make,  
when they do fear to vent their fears;  1. COURT. 
True, and all the Statesmen hang down their heads, like full eared corn; two of them  
where I supped, asked what time of night it was,  
and when 'twas told them, started, as if  
they had been to run a race.  2. COURT. 
The King too (if you mark him,) doth feign mirth and jollity, but through them both,  
flashes of discontent, and anger make escapes:  ORS. 
Gentlemen! 'tis pity heaven  
designed you not to make the Almanacs.  
You guess so shrewdly by the ill aspects,  
or near conjunctions of the great ones,  
at what's to come still; that without all doubt  
the Country had been governed wholly by you,  
and ploughed and reaped accordingly; for me,  
I understand this mystery as little  
as the new Love, and as I take it too,  
'tis much about the Time that every thing  
but Owls, and Lovers take their rest;  
Good-night, Philan— away—  Exit. 1. COURT. 
'Tis early yet; let's go on the Queen's side  
and fool a little; I love to warm myself  
before I go to bed, it does beget  
handsome and sprightly thoughts, and makes  
our dreams half solid pleasures.  2. COURT. 
Agreed: agreed:  Exeunt.   

ACTUS III.  

SCENA I.  Enter Prince: Conspirators: THER. 
COuldst thou not find out Ziriff?  1. COURT. 
Not speak with him my Lord;  
yet I sent in by several men.  ORS. 
I wonder jolas' meets us not here too.  THER. 
'Tis strange, but let's on now how ere,  
when Fortunes, honour, life, and all's in doubt  
bravely to dare, is bravely to get out.  Excursions: The Guard upon them. THER. 
Betrayed! betrayed!  ORS. 
Shift for yourself Sir, and let us alone,  
we will secure your way, and make our own.  Exeunt. Enter the King, and Lords. KING. 
Follow Lords, and see quick execution done,  
leave not a man alive.  
Who treads on fire, and does not put it out,  
Disperses fear in many sparks of doubt.  Exeunt. Enter Conspirators, and the Guard upon them. ORS. 
Stand friends, an equal party—  (Fight.) Three of the Conspirators fall, and three of the King's side: Orsames and Philan kill the rest. PHI. 
Brave Orsames, 'tis pleasure to die near thee.  ORS. 
Talk not of dying Philan, we will live,  
and serve the noble Prince again; we are alone,  
off then with thy disguise, and throw it in the bushes;  They throw off their disguises. 
quick, quick; before the torrent comes upon us:  
we shall be straight good Subjects, and I despair not  
of reward for this night's service: so.—  
we two now killed our friends! 'tis hard,  
but 'tmust be so.  Enter Ariaspes, Jolas, two Courtiers, part of the Guard. ARI. 
Follow! Follow!  ORS. 
Yes; so you may now, y'are not likely to overtake.  JOL. 
Orsames, and Philan, how came you hither?  ORS. 
The nearest way it seems, you followed (thank you)  
as if 'thad been through quicksets:  JOL. 
's Death have they all escaped?  ORS. 
Not all, two of them we made sure;  
but they cost dear, look here else.  ARI. 
Is the Prince there?  PHI. 
They are both Princes I think,  
they fought like Princes I am sure.  Jolas pulls off the vizors. JOL. 
Stephines', and Odîris— we trifle.  
Which way took the rest?  ORS. 
Two of them are certainly here abouts.  ARI. 
Upon my life they swam the river;  
some straight to horse, and follow over the bridge;  
you, and I my Lord, will search this place a little better.  ORS. 
Your Highness will I hope remember, who were  
the men were in—  ARI. 
Oh! fear not, your Mistress shall know y'are valiant.  ORS. 
Philan! if thou lov'st me, let's kill them upon the place.  PHI. 
Fie: thou now art wild indeed;  
thou taughtest me to be wise first,  
and I will now keep thee so.— Follow, follow.  Exeunt. Enter Aglaura with a Lute. The Prince comes and knocks within. THER. 
Madam!  AGL. 
What wretch is this that thus usurps  
upon the privilege of Ghosts, and walks  
at midnight?  THER. 
Aglaura.  AGL. 
Betray me not  
my willing sense too soon, yet if that voice  
be false.—  THER. 
Open fair Saint, and let me in.  AGL. 
It is the Prince—  
as willingly as those  
that cannot sleep do light; welcome (Sir,)  (Opens.) 
welcome above.—  Spies his sword drawn. 
Bless me, what means this unsheathed minister of death?  
if, Sir, on me quick Justice be to pass,  
why this? absence alas, or such strange looks  
as you now bring with you would kill as soon:  THER. 
Softly! for ay, like a hard hunted Deer,  
have only herded here; and though the cry  
reach not our ears, yet am I followed close:  
o my heart! since I saw thee,  
Time has been strangely Active, and begot  
a Monstrous issue of unheard of Story:  
Sit; thou shalt have it all! nay, sigh not.  
such blasts will hinder all the passage;  
dost thou remember, how we parted last?  AGL. 
Can I forget it Sir?  THER. 
That word of parting was ill placed, I swear,  
it may be ominous; but dost thou know  
into whose hands I gave thee?  AGL. 
Yes into Ziriff Sir.  THER. 
That Ziriff was thy brother, brave Zorannes'  
preserved by miracle in that sad day  
thy father fell, and since thus in disguise,  
waiting his just revenge.  AGL. 
You do amaze me, Sir.  THER. 
And must do more, when I tell all the Story.  
The King, the jealous King, knew of the marriage,  
and when thou thought'st thyself by my direction,  
thou wert his Prisoner;  
unless I would renounce all right,  
and cease to love thee, (o strange, and fond request!)  
immured thou must have been in some sad place,  
and locked for ever, from Thersames sight.  
For ever— and that unable to endure  
this night, I did attempt his life.  AGL. 
Was it well done Sir?  THER. 
O no! extremely Ill!  
for to attempt and not to act was poor:  
here the dead-doing Law, (like ill-paid Soldiers)  
leaves the side 'twas on, to join with power.  
Royal villainy now will look so like to Justice,  
that the times to come and curious posterity,  
will find no difference: weep'st thou Aglaura?  
come, to bed my Love!  
and we will there mock Tyranny, and Fate,  
those softer hours of pleasure, and delight,  
that like so many single pearls, should have  
adorned our thread of life, we will at once,  
by Love's mysterious power, and this nights help  
contract to one, and make but one rich draught  
of all.  AGL. 
What mean you Sir?  THER. 
To make myself incapable of misery,  
by taking strong preservative of happiness:  
I would this night enjoy thee:  AGL. 
Do: Sir, do what you will with me,  
for I am too much yours, to deny the right  
however claimed— but—  THER. 
But what Aglaura?  AGL. 
Gather not roses in a wet and frowing hour,  
they'll lose their sweets then, trust me they will Sir.  
What pleasure can Love take to play his game out,  
when death must keep the Stakes—  A noise without. 
hark Sir— grave bringers, and last minutes are at hand,  
hide, hide yourself, for Love's sake hide yourself.  THER. 
As soon the Sun may hide himself, as I.  
The Prince of Persia hide himself?—  AGL. 
O talk not Sir; the Sun does hide himself  
when night and blackness comes—  THER. 
Never sweet Ignorance, he shines in th'other world then;  
and so shall I, if I set here in glory:  
Enter  Opens the door, enter Ziriff. 
ye hasty seekers of life.  
Sorannez.—  AGL. 
My brother!  
If all the joy within me come not out,  
to give a welcome to so dear an object,  
excuse it Sir; sorrow locks up all doors.  ZIR. 
If there be such a Toy about you, Sister,  
keep't for yourself, or lend it to the Prince;  
there is a dearth of that Commodity,  
and you have made it Sir. Now?  
what is the next mad thing you mean to do?  
will you stay here? when all the Court's beset  
like to a wood at a great hunt, and busy mischief hastes  
to be in view, and have you in her power—  THER. 
To me all this—  
for great grief's deaf as well as it is dumb,  
and drives no trade at all with Counsel: (Sir)  
why do you not Tutor one that has the Plague,  
and see if he will fear an after ague fit;  
such is all mischief now to me; there is none left  
is worth a thought, death is the worst, I know,  
and that compared to shame, does look more lovely now  
than a chaste Mistress, set by common woman—  
and I must court it Sir?  ZIR. 
No wonder if that heaven for sake us, when we leave ourselves:  
what is there done should feed such high despair?  
were you but safe—  AGL. 
Dear (Sir) be ruled,  
if love, be love, and magic too,  
(as sure it is where it is true;)  
we then shall meet in absence, and in spite  
of all divorce, freely enjoy together,  
what niggard Fate thus peevishly denies.  THER. 
Yea: but if pleasures be themselves but dreams,  
what then are the dreams of these to men?  
that monster, Expectation, will devour  
all that is within our hope or power,  
and ere we once can come to show, how rich  
we are, we shall be poor,  
shall we not Sorannez?  ZIR. 
I understand not this,  
in times of envious penury (such as these are)  
to keep but love alive is fair, we should not think  
of feasting him: come (Sir)  
here in these lodgings is a little door,  
that leads unto another; that again,  
unto a vault, that has his passage under  
the little river, opening into the wood;  
from thence 'tis but some few minutes easy business  
unto a Servants house of mine (who for his faith  
and honesty, hereafter must  
look big in Story) there you are safe however;  
and when this Storm has met a little calm,  
what wild desire dares whisper to itself,  
you may enjoy, and at the worst may steal:  THER. 
What shall become of thee Aglaura then?  
shall I leave thee their rages sacrifice?  
and like dull Seamen threatened with a storm,  
throw all away, I have, to save myself.  AGL. 
Can I be safe when you are not? my Lord!  
knows love in us divided happiness?  
am I the safer for your being here?  
can you give that you have not for yourself?  
my innocence is my best guard, and that your stay  
betraying it unto suspicion, takes away.  
If you did love me?—  THER. 
Grows that in question? then 'tis time to part:—  Kisses her. 
when we shall meet again Heaven only knows,  
and when we shall I know we shall be old:  
Love does not calculate the common way,  
Minutes are hours there, and the hours are days,  
each day's a year, and every year an age;  
what will this come to think you?  ZIR. 
Would this were all the ill,  
for these are pretty little harmless nothings;  
Time's horse runs full as fast, hard borne and curbed,  
as in his full career, loose-rained and spurred:  
come, come, let's away.  THER. 
Happiness, such as men lost in misery  
would wrong in naming, 'tis so much above them.  
All that I want of it, all you deserve,  
Heaven send you in my absence.  AGL. 
And misery, such as witty malice would  
lay out in curses, on the thing it hates,  
Heaven send me in the stead, if when y'are gone  
I welcome it, but for your sake alone.—  Exeunt. Leads him out, and enters up out of the vault. ZIR. 
Stir not from hence, Sir, till you hear from me so good-night dear Prince.  THER. 
Good-night dear friend.  ZIR. 
When we meet next all this will but advance—  
Joy never feasts so high,  
as when the first course is of misery.  Exeunt.   

ACTUS IV.  

SCENA I.  Enter three or four Courtiers. 1. COURT 
BY this light— a brave Prince,  
he made no more of the Guard, than they would of a Tailor on a Mask night, that has refused trusting before.  2. COURT. 
he's as Active as he is valiant too;  
didst mark him how he stood like all the points  
o'th' Compass, and as good Pictures,  
had his eyes, towards every man.  3. COURT. 
And his sword too,  
all th'other side walk up and down the Court now,  
as if they had lost their way, and stare,  
like Greyhounds, when the Hare has taken the furze,  1. COURT. 
Right,  
and have more troubles about'em  
than a Servingman that has forgot his message  
when he's come upon the place.—  2. COURT. 
Yonder's the King within, chafing, and swearing  
like an old Falconer upon the first flight  
of a young Hawk, when some Clown  
has taken away the quarry from her;  
and all the Lords stand round about him,  
as if he were to be baited, with much more fear,  
and at much more distance,  
than a Country Gentlewoman sees the Lions the first time:  
look: he's broke loose.—  Enter King and Lords. KING. 
Find him; or by Osiris' self, you all are traitors;  
and equally shall pay to Justice; a single man,  
and guilty too, break through you all!  Enter Ziriff. SIR 
Confidence!  
(thou paint of women, and the Statesman's wisdom,  
valour for Cowards, and of the guiltless Innocence,)  
assist me now.  
Sir, send these Starers off:  
I have some business will deserve your privacy.  KING. 
Leave us.  JOL. 
How the villain swells upon us?—  Exeunt. ZIR. 
Not to punish thought,  
or keep it long upon the wrack of doubt,  
know Sir,  
That by corruption of the waiting woman,  
the common key of Secrets, I have found  
the truth at last, and have discovered all:  
the Prince your Son was by Aglaura's means,  
conveyed last night unto the Cypress Grove,  
through a close vault that opens in the lodgings:  
he does intend to join with Carimania,  
but ere he goes, resolves to finish all  
the rites of Love, and this night means  
to steal what is behind.  KING. 
How good is Heaven unto me!  
that when it gave me Traitors for my Subjects,  
would lend me such a Servant!  ZIR. 
How just (Sir) rather,  
that would bestow this Fortune on the poor.  
and where your bounty had made debt so infinite  
that it grew desperate, their hope to pay it—  KING. 
Enough of that, thou dost but gently chide  
me for a fault, that I will mend; for I  
have been too poor, and low in my rewards  
unto thy virtue: but to our business;  
the question is, whether we shall rely  
upon our Guards again?  ZIR. 
By no means Sir:  
hope on his future fortunes, or their Love  
unto his person, has so sicklied o'er  
their resolutions, that we must not  
trust them.  
Besides, it were but needless here;  
he passes through the vault alone, and I  
myself durst undertake that business,  
if that were all, but there is something else,  
this accident doth prompt my zeal to serve you in.  
I know you love Aglaura (Sir) with passion,  
and would enjoy her; I know beside  
she loves him so, that whosoe'er shall bring  
the tidings of his death, must carry back  
the news of hers, so that your Justice (Sir)  
must rob your hope: but there is yet a way—  KING. 
Here! take my heart; for I have hitherto  
too vainly spent the treasure of my love,  
I'll have it coined abundantly into friendship all,  
and make a present to thee.  ZIR. 
If any part of this rich happiness,  
(fortune prepares now for you) shall owe itself  
unto my weak endeavours, I have enough.  
Aglaura without doubt this night expects  
the Prince, and why  
you should not then supply his place by stealth,  
and in disguise—  KING. 
I apprehend thee Ziriff,  
but there's difficulty—  ZIR. 
Who trades in Love must be an adventurer, (Sir)  
but here is scarce enough to make the pleasure dearer:  
I know the Cave; your Brother and myself  
with Iolas, (for those w'are sure do hate him,)  
with some few chosen more betimes will wait  
the Princes passing through the vault; if he  
comes first, he's dead; and if it be yourself,  
we will conduct you to the chamber door,  
and stand 'twixt you and danger afterwards.  KING. 
I have conceived of Joy, and am grown great:  
Till I have safe deliverance, time's a cripple  
and goes on crutches.— as for thee my Ziriff,  
I do here entertain a friendship with thee,  
shall drown the memory of all patterns past;  
we will oblige by turns; and that so thick,  
and fast, that curious studiers of it,  
shall not once dare to cast it up, or say  
by way of guess, whether thou or I  
remain the debtors, when we come to die.  Exeunt. Enter Semanthe, Orithie, Philan, Orsames, Lords and Ladies. ORI. 
Is the Queen ready to come out?  PHI. 
Not yet sure, the King's brother is but newly entered;  SEM. 
Come my Lord, the Song then.  ORI. 
The Song.  ORS. 
A vengeance take this love, it spoils a voice  
worse than the losing of a maidenhead.  
I have got such a cold with rising  
and walking in my shirt a nights, that  
a Bittorne whooping in a reed is better music.  ORI. 
This modesty becomes you as ill, my Lord,  
as wooing would us women: pray, put's not to't.  ORS. 
Nay Ladies, you shall find me,  
as free, as the Musicians of the woods  
themselves; what I have, you shall not need to call for,  
nor shall it cost you any thing.  

SONG.  

WHy so pale and wan fond Lover?  
Prithee why so pale?  
Will, when looking well can't move her,  
Looking ill prevail?  
Prithee why so pale?   

Why so dull and mute young Sinner?  
Prithee why so mute?  
Will, when speaking well can't win her,  
Saying nothing do't?  
Prithee why so mute?   

Quit, quit, for shame, this will not move  
This cannot take her;  
If of herself she will not Love,  
Nothing can make her,  
The Devil take her.    ORI. 
I should have guest, it had been the issue of  
your brain, if I had not been told so;  ORS. 
A little foolish counsel (Madam) I gave a friend  
of mine four or five years ago, when he was  
falling into a Consumption.—  Enter Queen. ORB. 
Which of all you have seen the fair prisoner  
since she was confined?  SEM. 
I have Madam.  ORB. 
And how behaves she now herself?  SEM. 
As one that had entrenched so deep in Innocence,  
she feared no enemies, bears all quietly,  
and smiles at Fortune, whilst she frowns on her.  ORB. 
So gallant! I wonder where the beauty lies  
that thus inflames the royal blood?  ORI. 
Faces, Madam, are like books, those that do study them  
know best, and to say truth, 'tis still  
much as it pleases the Courteous Reader.  ORB. 
These Lovers sure are like Astronomers,  
that when the vulgar eye discovers, but  
a Sky above, studded with some few Stars,  
find out besides strange fishes, birds, and beasts.  SEM. 
As men in sickness scorched into a raving  
do see the Devil, in all shapes and forms,  
when standers by wondering, ask where, and when;  
So they in Love, for all's but fever there,  
and madness too.  ORB. 
That's too severe Semanthe;  
but we will have your reasons in the park;  
are the doors open through the Gardens?  LO. 
The King has newly led the way.  Exeunt. Enter Ariaspes: Ziriff, with a warrant sealed. ARI. 
Thou art a Tyrant, Ziriff: I shall die with joy.  ZIR. 
I must confess my Lord; had but the Prince's ills  
proved ●…eight, and not thus dangerous,  
he should have owed to me, at least I would  
have laid a claim unto his safety; and  
like Physicians, that do challenge right  
in Nature's cures, looked for reward and thanks;  
but since 'twas otherwise, I thought it best  
●…o save myself, and then to save the State.  ARI. 
'Twas wisely done.  ZIR. 
Safely I'm sure, my Lord! you know 'tis not  
●…ur custom, where the King's dislike, once swells to hate,  
there to engage ourselves; Court friendship  
is a Cable, that in storms is ever cut,  
and I made bold with it; here is the warrant sealed  
and for the execution of it, if you think  
we are not strong enough, we may have  
〈◊〉, for him the King did name.  ARI. 
And him I would have named.  ZIR. 
But is he not too much the Prince's (Sir?)  ARI. 
He is as lights in Scenes at Masques,  
what glorious show so ere he makes without,  
I that set him there, know why, and how;  Enter Jolas. 
but here he is.—  
Come Iolas. and since the heavens' decreed,  
the man whom thou shouldst envy, should be such,  
That all men else must do't; be not ashamed  
thou once we●… guilty of it;  
but bless them, that they give thee now a means,  
to make a friendship with him, and vouchsafe  
to find thee out a way to love, where well  
thou couldst not hate.  JO●…. 
What means my Lord?  ARI. 
Here, here he stands that has preserved us all!  
that sacrific'd unto a ●…u lique good,  
(the dearest private good we mortals have)  
Frien●…hip: gave into ourarmes the Prince,  
when nothing but the sword (perchance a ruin)  
was left to do it.  JOL. 
How could I chide my love, and my ambition now,  
that thrust me upon such a quarrel? here I do vow—  ZIR. 
Hold, do not vow my Lord, let it deserve it first;  
and yet (if Heaven bless honest men's intents)  
'tis not impossible.  
My Lord, you will be pleased to inform him in particulars,  
I must be gone.—  
the King I fear already has been left  
too long alone.  ARI. 
Stay— the hour and place.  ZIR. 
Eleven, under the Terrace walk;  
I will not fail you there.  Goes out, returns back again. 
I had forgot:—  
●…may be, the small remainder of those lost men  
that were of the Conspiracy, will come along with him:  
'twere best to have some chosen of the Guard  
within our call—  Exit Ziriff. ARI. 
Honest, and careful Ziriff:  Jolas stands musing. 
how now Planet struck?—  JOL. 
This Ziriff will grow great with all the world.  ARI. 
Shallow man! short sightedder than Travellers in mists,  
or women that outlive themselves; dost thou not see,  
that whilst he does prepare a Tomb with one hand  
for his friend, he digs a Grave with th'other for himself?  JOL. 
How so?  ARI. 
Dost think he shall not feel the weight of this,  
as well as poor Thersames?  JOL. 
Shall we then kill him too at the same instant?  ARI. 
And say, the Prince made an unlucky thrust.  JOL. 
Right.  ARI. 
Dull, dull, he must not die so uselessly.  
As when we wipe of filth from any place,  
we throw away the thing that made it clea●…e,  
so this once done, he's gone.  
Thou know'st the People love the Prince, to their rage  
something the State must offer up; who fitter  
than thy rival and my enemy?  JOL. 
Rare! our witness will be taken.  ARI. 
Pish! let me alone.  
The Giants that made mountains ladders,  
and thought to take great Iove by force, were fools:  
not hill on hill, but plot on plot, does make  
us sit above, and laugh at all below us.—  Exeunt. Enter Aglaura, and a Singing Boy. BOY. 
Madam, 'twill make you melancholy,  
I'll sing the Prince's Song, that's sad enough.  AG●…. 
What you will Sir.  

SONG.  

NO, no, fair Heretic, it needs must be  
But an ill Love in me,  
And worse for thee.   

For were it in my Power,  
To love thee now this hour,  
More than I did the last;   

I would then so fall,  
I might not Love at all;   

Love that can flow, and can admit increase,  
Admits as well an Ebb, and may grow less.   

2  
True Love is still the same; the torrid Zones,  
And those more frigid ones,  
It must not know:   

For Love grown cold or hot,  
Is Lust, or Friendship, not  
The thing we have;   

For that's a flame would die,  
Held down, or up to high:   

Then think I love more than I ca●… express,  
And would love more, could I but love thee less.    AGL. 
Leave me! for to a Soul, so out of Tune  
as mine is now; nothing is harmony:  
when once the maine-spring, Hope, is fall'n into  
disorder; no wonder, if the lesser wheels,  
Desire, and joy, stand still; my thoughts like Bees  
when they have lost their King, wander  
confusedly up and down, and settle no where.  Enter Orithie. 
Orithie, fly! fly the room,  
as thou wouldst shun the habitations  
which Spirits haunt, or where thy nearer friends  
walk after death; here is not only Love,  
●…ut Loves plague too— misfortune; and so high,  
that it is sure infectious!  ORI. 
Madam, so much more miserable am I this way than you, that should I pity you, I should forget myself:  
my sufferings are such, that with less patience  
you may endure your own, than give mine Audience.  
There is that difference, that you may make  
yours none at all, but by considering mine!  AGL. 
O speak them quickly then! the marriage day  
to passionate Lovers never was more welcome,  
than any kind of ease would be to me now.  ORI. 
Could they be spoke, they were not then so great.  
I love, and dare not say I love; dare not hope,  
what I desire; yet still too must desire—  
and like a starving man brought to a feast,  
and made say grace, to what he ne'er shall taste,  
be thankful after all, and kiss the hand,  
that made the wound thus deep.  AGL. 
'Tis hard indeed, but with what unjust scales,  
thou took'st the weight of our misfortunes,  
be thine own Judge now.  
thou mournest for loss of that thou never hadst,  
or if thou hadst a loss, it never was  
of a Thersames.  
wouldst thou not think a Merchant mad, Orithie?  
if thou shouldst see him weep, and tear his hair,  
because he brought not both the Indies home?  
and wouldst not think his sorrows very just,  
if having fraught his ship with some rich Treasure,  
he sunk i'th' very Port? This is our case.  ORI. 
And do you think there is such odds in it?  
would Heaven we women could as easily change  
our fortunes as ('tis said) we can our minds.  
I cannot (Madam) think them miserable,  
that have the Princes Love.  AGL. 
He is the man then—  
blush not Orithie, 'tis a sin to blush  
for loving him, though none at all to love him.  
I can admit of rivalship without  
a jealousy— nay shall be glad of it:  
we two will sit, and think, and think, and sigh,  
and sigh, and talk of love— and of Thersames.  
Thou shalt be praising of his wit, while I  
admire he governs it so well:  
like this thing, said thus, th'other thing thus done,  
and in good language him for these adore,  
while I want words to do't, yet do it more.  
Thus will we do, till death itself shall us  
divide, and then whose fate 'tshall be to die  
first of the two, by legacy shall all  
her love bequeath, and give her stock to her  
that shall survive; for no one stock can serve,  
to love Thersames so as he'll deserve.  Enter King, Ziriff. KING. 
What have we here impossibility?  
a constant night, and yet within the room  
that, that can make the day before the Sun?  
silent Aglaura too?  AGL. 
I know not what to say:  
●…s't to your pity, or your scorn, I owe  
the favour of this visit (Sir?) for such  
my fortune is, it doth deserve them both:  KING. 
And such thy beauty is, that it makes good  
all Fortunes, sorrow looks lovely here;  
and there's no man, that would not entertain  
his griefs as friends, were he but sure they'd show  
no worse upon him— but I forget myself,  
I came to chide.  AGL. 
If I have sinned so high, that yet my punishment equals not my crime,  
do Sir; I should be loath to die in debt  
to Justice, how ill soe'er I paid  
the scores of Love.—  KING. 
And those indeed thou hast but paid indifferently to me, I did deserve at least fair death,  
not to be murdered thus in private:  
that was too cruel, Mistress.  
And I do know thou dost repent, and wilt  
yet make me satisfaction:  AGL. 
What satisfaction Sir?  
I am no monster, never had two hearts;  
One is by holy vows another's now,  
and could I give it you, you would not take it,  
for'tis alike impossible for me,  
to love again, as you love Perjury.  
O Sir! consider, what a flame love is.  
If by rude means you think to force a light,  
that of itself it would not freely give,  
you blow it out, and leave yourself i'th' dark.  
The Prince once gone, you may as well persuade  
the light to stay behind, when the Sun posts  
to th'other world, as me; alas! we two,  
have mingled souls more than two meeting brooks;  
and whosoever is designed to be  
the murderer of my Lord, (as sure there is,  
has angered heaven so far, that 'thas decreed  
him to increase his punishment that way)  
would he but search the heart, when he has done,  
he there would find Aglaura murdered too.  KING. 
Thou hast ●…come me, moved so handsomely  
for pity, that I will disinherit  
the elder brother, and from this hour be  
thy Convert, not thy Lover.—  
Ziriff, dispatch away—  
and he that brings news of the Prince's welfare,  
look that he have the same reward, we had decreed  
to him, brought tidings of his death.  
'Tmust be a busy and bold hand, that would  
unlinke a chain the Gods themselves have made:  
peace to thy Thoughts: Aglaura—  Exit. Ziriff steps back and speaks. ZIR. 
What ere he says believe him not Aglaura:  
for lust and rage ride high within him now:  
he knows Thersames made th'escape from hence,  
and does conceal it only for his ends:  
for by the favour of mistake and night,  
he hopes t'enjoy thee in the Prince's room;  
I shall be missed— else I would tell thee more;  
But thou mayest guess, for our condition  
admits no middle ways, either we must  
send them to Graves, or lie ourselves in dust:—  Exit. Aglaura stands still and studies. AGL. 
Ha! 'tis a strange Act thought puts me now upon;  
yet sure my brother meant the self same thing,  
and my Thersames would have done't for me:  
to take his life, that seeks to take away  
the life of Life, (honour from me;) and from  
the world, the life of honour, Thersames;  
must needs be something sure, of kin to Justice.  
If I do fail, th'attempt howe'er was brave,  
and I shall have at worst a handsome grave—  Exit. Enter Jolas, Semanthe. Semanthe steps back, Jolas stays her. JOL. 
What? are we grown, Semanthe, night, and day?  
Must one still vanish when the other comes?  
Of all that ever Love did yet bring forth  
(and 't has been fruitful too,) this is  
the strangest Issue.—  SEM. 
What my Lord?  JOL. 
Hate, Semanthe.  SEM. 
You do mistake, if I do shun you, 'tis,  
as bashful Debtors shun their Creditors,  
I cannot pay you in the self same coin,  
and am ashamed to offer any other.  JOL. 
It is ill done, Semanthe, to plead bankrupt,  
when with such ease you may be out of debt;  
In love's dominions, native commodity  
is currant payment, change is all the Trade,  
and heart for heart, the richest merchandise.  SEM. 
'Twould here be mean my Lord, since mine would prove  
In your hands but a Counterfeit, and yours in mine  
worth nothing; Sympathy, not greatness,  
makes those Jewels rise in value.  JOL. 
Sympathy! o teach but yours to love then,  
and two so rich no mortal ever knew.  SEM. 
That heart would Love but ill that must be taught,  
such fires as these still kindle of themselves.  JOL. 
In such a cold, and frozen place, as is  
thy breast? how should they kindle of themselves  
Semanthe?  SEM. 
Ask? how the Flint can carry fire within?  
'tis the least miracle that Love can do:  JOL. 
Thou art thyself the greatest miracle,  
for thou art fair to all perfection,  
and yet dost want the greatest part of beauty,  
Kindness; thy cruelty (next to thyself,)  
above all things on earth takes up my wonder.  SEM. 
Call not that cruelty, which is our fate,  
believe me jolas', the honest Swain  
that from the brow of some steep cliff far off,  
beholds a ship labouring in vain against  
the boisterous and unruly Elements, ne'er had  
less power, or more desire to help than I;  
at every sigh, I die, and every look,  
does move; and any passion you will have  
but Love, I have in store: I will be angry,  
quarrel with destiny, and with myself  
that 'tis no better; be melancholy;  
And (though mine own disasters well might plead  
to be in chief,) yours only shall have place,  
I'll pity, and (if that's too low) I'll grieve,  
as for my sins, I cannot give you ease;  
all this I do, and this I hope will prove  
'tis greater Torment not to love, than Love.—  Exit. JOL. 
So perishing Sailours pray to storms,  
and so they hear again. So men  
with death about them, look on Physicians that  
have given them o'er, and so they turn away:  
Two fixed Stars that keep a constant distance,  
and by laws made with themselves must know  
no motion eccentric, may meet as soon as we:  
The anger that the foolish Sea does show,  
when it does brave it out, and roar against  
a stubborn rock that still denies it passage,  
is not so vain and fruitless, as my prayers.  
Ye mighty Powers of Love and Fate, where is  
your Justice here? It is thy part (fond Boy)  
when thou dost find one wounded heart, to make  
the other so, but if thy Tyranny  
be such, that thou wilt leave one breast to hate,  
If we must live, and this survive,  
how much more cruell's Fate?—  Exit.   

ACTUS V.  

SCENA I.  Enter Ziriff, Ariaspes, Jolas. JOL. 
A Glorious night!  ARI. 
Pray Heaven it prove so.  
Are we not there yet?  ZIR. 
'Tis about this hollow.  Enter the Cave. ARI. 
How now! what region are we got into?  
th'inheritance of night;  
Are we not mistaken a turning Ziriff,  
and stepped into some melancholy Devil's Territory?  
Sure 'tis a part of the first Chaos,  
that would endure no change.  ZIR. 
No matter Sir, 'tis as proper for our purpose,  
as the Lobby for the waiting women.  
Stay you here, I'll move a little backward,  
and so we shall be sure to put him past  
retreat: you know the word if't be the Prince.  Goes to the mouth of the Cave. Enter King. 
Here Sir, follow me, all's quiet yet.—  KING. 
He is not come then?  ZIR. 
No.  KING. 
Where's Ariaspes?  ZIR. 
Waiting within.  He leads him on, steps behind him, gives the false word, they kill the King. JOL. 
I do not like this waiting,  
nor this fellows leaving us.  ARI. 
This place does put odd thoughts into thee,  
than thou art in thine own nature too, as jealous  
as either Love, or Honour: Come, wear thy sword in readiness,  
and think how near we are a crown.  ZIR. 
Revenge!  
So let's drag him to the light, and search  
his pockets, there may be papers there that will  
discover the rest of the Conspirators.  
Iol●…s, your hand—  Draw him out. JOL. 
Whom have we here? the King!  ZIR. 
Yes, and Zorrannes' too, Illo! hoe!—  Enter Pasithas and others. 
Unarm them.  
D''ee stare?  
This for my Father's injuries and mine:  Points to the King's dead body. 
half Love, half Duties Sacrifice,  
this— for the noble Prince, an offering to friendship:  Runs at Jolas. JOL. 
Basely! and tamely—  Dies. ARI. 
What hast thou done?  ZIR. 
Nothing— killed a Traitor,  
So— away with them, and leaves us,  
Pasithas be only you in call.  ARI. 
What dost thou pause?  
hast thou remorse already murderer?  ZIR. 
No fool: 'tis but a difference I put  
betwixt the crimes: Orbella is our quarrel;  
and I do hold it fit, that love should have  
a nobler way of Justice, than Revenge  
or Treason; follow me out of the wood,  
and thou shalt be Master of this again:  
and then, best arm and title take it.  They go out and enter again. 
There—  Gives him his sword. ARI. 
Extremely good! Nature took pains I swear,  
the villain and the brave are mingled handsomely.  ZIR. 
'Twas Fate that took it, when it decreed  
we two should meet, nor shall they mingle now  
we are brought together straight to part.—  Fight, ARI. 
Some Devil sure has borrowed this shape.  Pause. 
my sword ne'er stayed thus long to find an entrance.  ZIR. 
To guilty men, all that appears is Devil,  
come Trifler, come.—  Fight again, Ariaspes falls. ARI. 
Whither, whither, thou fleeting Coward life?  
Bubble of Time, Nature's shame, stay; a little, stay!  
till I have looked myself into revenge,  
and stared this Traitor to a carcase first.  
— It will not be:—  Falls. 
the Crown, the Crown, too  
now is lost, for ever lost— oh!—  
Ambition's, but an Ignis fatuus, I see  
misleading fond mortality,  
That hurries us about, and sets us down  
Just— where— we— first— begun—  Dies. ZIR. 
What a great spreading mighty thing this was,  
and what a nothing now? how soon poor man  
vanishes into his noontide shadow?  
but hopes o'er fed have seldom better done:—  (Hollows.) Enter Pasithas. 
Take up this lump of vanity, and honour,  
and carry it the back way to my lodging,  
there may be use of Statesmen, when theyare dead:  
So.— for the Citadel now, for in such times  
as these, when the unruly multitude  
is up in swarms, and no man knows which way  
they'll take, 'tis good to have retreat.  Exeunt. Enter Thersames. THER. 
The Dog-star's got up high, it should be late:  
and sure by this time every waking ear,  
and watchful eye is charmed; and yet me thought  
a noise of weapons struck my ear just now.  
'Twas but my Fancy sure, and were it more,  
I would not tread one step, that did not lead  
to my Aglaura, stood all his Guard betwixt,  
with lightning in their hands;  
Danger! thou Dwarf dressed up in Giants clothes,  
that show'st far off, still greater than thou art:  
go, terrify the simple, and the guilty, such  
as with false Optics, still do look upon thee.  
But fright not Lovers, we dare look on thee  
in thy worst shape, and meet thee in them too.  
Stay— These trees I made my mark, 'tis hereabouts,  
— Love guide me but right this night,  
and Lovers shall restore thee back again  
those eyes the Poets took so boldly from thee.  Exit. Aglaura with a torch in one hand, and a dagger in the other. AGL. 
How ill this does become this hand, how much worse  
this suits with this, one of the two should go.  
The she within me says, it must be this—  
honour says this— and honour is Thersames friend.  
What is that she then? it is not a thing  
that sets a Price, not upon me, but on  
life in my name, leading me into doubt,  
which when 'thas done, it cannot light me out.  
For fear does drive to Fate, or Fate if we  
do fly, o'ertakes, and holds us, till or death,  
or infamy, or both doth cease us.—  Puts out the light. 
Ha!— would 'twere in again.  
Antiques and strange mishapes,  
such as the Porter to my Soul, mine Eye,  
was ne'er acquainted with, Fancy lets in,  
like a distracted multitude, by some strange accident  
pieced together, fear now afresh comes on,  
and charges Love to home.  
— He comes— he comes—  
woman, if thou wouldst be the Subject of man's wonder, not his scorn hereafter,  
now show thyself.  Enter Prince rising from the vault, she stabs him two or three times, he falls, she's goes back to her chamber. 
Sudden and fortunate.  
My better Angel sure did both infuse  
a strength, and did direct it.  Enter Ziriff. ZIR. 
Aglaura!  AGL. 
Brother—  ZIR. 
The same.  
So slow to let in such a longed for Guest?  
must Joy stand knocking Sister, come, prepare,  
prepare.—  
The King of Persia's coming to you straight!  
the King!— mark that.  AGL. 
I thought how poor the Joys you brought with you,  
were in respect of those that were with me:  
Joys, are our hopes stripped of their fears,  
and such are mine; for know, dear Brother,  
the King is come already, and is gone— mark that.  ZIR. 
Is this instinct, or riddle? what King? how gone?  AGL. 
The Cave will tell you more—  ZIR. 
Some sad mistake— thou hast undone us all.  Goes out, enters ●…stily again. 
The Prince! the Prince! cold as the bed of earth  
he lies upon, as senseless too; death hangs  
upon his lips,  
like an untimely frost, upon an early Cherry;  
the noble Guest, his Soul, took it so ill  
that you should use his old Acquaintance so,  
that neither prayers, nor tears, can e'er persuade  
him back again.—  Aglaura swoons: rubs her. 
hold, hold! we cannot sure part thus!  
Sister! Aglaura! Thersames is not dead,  
It is the Prince that calls—  AGL. 
The Prince, where?—  
Tell me, or I will straight goeback again,  
into those groves of Gessemine, thou took'st me from,  
and find him out, or lose myself for ever.  ZIR. 
For ever.— I: there's it!  
for in those groves thou talk'st of,  
there are so many byways, and odd turnings,  
leading unto such wild and dismal places,  
that should weegoe without a guide, or stir  
before Heaven calls, 'tis strongly to be feared  
we there should wander up and down for ever,  
and be benighted to eternity!—  AGL. 
Benighted to eternity?— What's that?  ZIR. 
Why 'tis to be benighted to eternity;  
to sit i'th' dark, and do I know not what;  
unriddle at our own sad cost and charge,  
the doubts the learned here do only move—  AGL. 
What place have murderers brother there? for sure  
the murderer of the Prince must have  
a punishment that Heaven is yet to make.—  ZIR. 
How is religion fooled betwixt our loves,  
and fears? poor Girl, for aught that thou hast done,  
thy Chaplets may be fair and flourishing,  
as his in the Elysium:  AGL. 
Do you think so?  ZIR. 
Yes, I do think so.  
The juster Judges of our Actions,  
would they have been severe upon  
our weaknesses,  
would (sure) have made us stronger.—  
Fie! those tears  
a Bride upon the marriage day as properly  
might shed as thou, here widows do't  
and marry next day after:  
To such a funeral as this, there should be  
nothing common—  
we'll mourn him so, that those that are alive  
shall think themselves more buried far than he;  
and wish to have his grave, to find his Obsequies:  
but stay— the Body.  Brings up the body, she swoons and dies. 
Again! Sister— Aglaura—  
o speak once more, once more look out fair Soul.—  
she's gone.—  
Irrevocably gone.— And winging now the Air,  
like a glad bird broken from some cage:  
poor Bankrupt heart, when 'thad not wherewithal  
to pay to sad disaster all that was its due,  
it broke— would mine would do so too.  
My soul is now within me  
like a well mettled Hawk, on a blind Faulk'ners' fist,  
me thinks I feel it baiting to be gone:  
and yet I have a little foolish business here  
on earth; I will dispatch:—  Exit. Enter Pasithas, with the body of Ariaspes. PAS. 
Let me be like my burden here, if I had not as lief kill two of the Blood-royal for him, as carry one of them; These Gentlemen of high actions are three times as heavy after death, as your private retired ones; look if he be not reduced to the state of a Courtier of the second form now? and cannot stand upon his own legs, nor do any thing without help, Hum.— And what's become of the great Prince, in prison as they call it now, the toy within us, that makes us talk, and laugh, and fight, I! why there's it, well, let him be what he will, and where he will, I'll make bold with the old Tenement here. Come Sir— come along:—  Exit. Enter Ziriff. ZIR. 
All's fast too, here—  
They sleep to night  
i'their winding sheets I think, there's such  
a general quiet.  
Oh! here's light I warrant:  
for lust does take as little rest, as care, or age.—  
Courting her glass, I swear, fie! that's a flatterer Madam,  
in me you shall see trulier what you are.  Knocks. Enter the Queen. ORB. 
What make you up at this strange hour my Lord?  ZIR. 
My business is my boldness warrant,  
(Madam)  
and I could well afford t'have been without it now,  
had Heaven so pleased.  ORB. 
'Tis a sad Prologue,  
what follows in the name of virtue?  ZIR. 
The King.  ORB. 
I: what of him? is well is he not?  ZIR. 
Yes.—  
If to be free from the great load  
we sweat and labour under, here on earth  
be to be well, he is.  ORB. 
Why he's not dead, is he?  ZIR. 
Yes Madam, slain— and the Prince too.  ORB. 
How? where?  ZIR. 
I know not, but dead they are.  ORB. 
Dead!  ZIR. 
Yes Madam.  ORB. 
Didst see them dead?  ZIR. 
As I see you alive.  ORB. 
Dead!  ZIR. 
Yes, dead.  ORB. 
Well, we must all die;  
the Sisters spin no cables for us mortals;  
theyare thread; and Time, and chance—  
trust me I could weep now,  
but watery distillations do but ill on graves,  
they make the lodging colder.  She knocks. ZIR. 
What would you Madam?  ORB. 
Why my friends, my Lord!  
I would consult and know, what's to be done.  ZIR. 
Madam 'tis not so safe to raise the Court;  
things thus unsettled, if you please to have—  ORB. 
Where's Ariaspes?  ZIR. 
In's dead sleep by this time I'm sure.  ORB. 
I know he is not! find him instantly.  ZIR. 
I'm gone.—  Turns back again. 
But Madam, why make you choice of him, from whom  
if the succession meet disturbance,  
all must come of danger?  ORB. 
My Lord, I am not yet so wise, as to be jealous;  
pray dispute no further.  ZIR. 
Pardon me Madam, if before I go  
I must unlock a secret unto you; such a one  
as while the King did breathe durst know no air,  
Zorannes' lives.  ORB. 
Ha!  ZIR. 
And in the hope of such a day as this  
has lingered out a life, snatching, to feed  
his almost famished eyes,  
sights now and then of you, in a disguise.  ORB. 
Strange! this night is big with miracle!  ZIR. 
If you did love him, as they say you did,  
and do so still; 'tis now within your power!  ORB. 
I would it were my Lord, but I am now  
no private woman, if I did love him once  
(and 'tis so long ago, I have forgot)  
my youth and ignorance may well excuseed.  ZIR. 
Excuse it?  ORB. 
Yes, excuse it Sir.  ZIR. 
Though I confess I loved his father much,  
and pity him, yet having offered it  
unto your thoughts: I have discharged a trust;  
and zeal shall stray no further.  
Your pardon Madam:  Exit. Queen studies. ORB. 
May be 'tis a plot to keep off Ariaspes  
greatness, which he must fear, because he knows  
he hates him: for these great Statesmen,  
that when time has made bold with the King and Subject,  
throwing down all fence that stood betwixt their power  
and others right, are on a change,  
like wanton Salmons coming in with floods,  
that leap o'er wires and nets, and make their way  
to be at the return to every one a prey.  Enter Ziriff, and Pasithas throwing downethe dead body of Ariaspes. ORB. 
Ha! murdered too!  
treason— treason—  ZIR. 
But such another word, and half so loud,  
and th'u'rt.—  ORB. 
Why? thou wilt not murder me too?  
wilt thou villain?  ZIR. 
I do not know my temper—  Discovers himself. 
Look here vain thing, and see thy sins full blown:  
There's scarce a part in all this face, thou hast  
not been forsworn by, and Heaven forgive thee for't!  
for thee I lost a Father, Country, friends,  
myself almost, for I lay buried long;  
and when there was no use thy love could pay  
too great, thou mad'st the principle away:  
had I but stayed, and not began revenge  
till thou hadst made an end of changing,  
I had had the Kingdom to have killed:  
As wantons entering a Garden, take  
the first fair flower, they meet, and  
treasureed in their laps.  
Then seeing more, do make fresh choice again,  
throwing in one and one, till at the length  
the first poor flower o'ercharged, with too much weight  
withers, and dies:  
so hast thou dealt with me,  
and having killed me first, I will kill—  ORB. 
Hold— hold—  
Not for my sake, but Orbella's (Sir) a bare  
and single death is such a wrong to Justice,  
I must needs except against it.  
Find out a way to make me long a dying;  
for death's no punishment, it is the sense,  
the pains and fears afore that makes a death:  
To think what I had had, had I had you,  
what I have lost in losing of myself;  
are deaths far worse than any you can give:  
yet kill me quickly, for if I have time,  
I shall so wash this soul of mine with tears,  
make it so fine, that you would be afresh  
in love with it, and so perchance I should  
again come to deceive you.  She rises up weeping, and hanging downeher head. ZIR. 
So rises day, blushing at night's deformity:  
and so the pretty flowers blubbered with dew,  
and ever washed with rain, hang down their heads,  
I must not look upon her:  (Goes towards him.) ORB. 
Were but the Lilies in this face as fresh  
as are the roses; had I but innocence  
joined to their blushes, I should then be bold,  
for when they went on begging they were ne'er denied,  
'Tis but a parting kiss Sir—  ZIR. 
I dare not grant it.—  ORB. 
Your hand Sir then, for that's a part I shall  
love after death (if after death we love)  
cause it did right the wronged Zorannes', here—  Steps to him, and open the box of poison, Zorannes' falls. 
Sleep, sleep for ever, and forgotten too,  
all but thy ills, which may succeeding time  
remember, as the Seaman does his marks,  
to know what to avoid, may at thy name  
all good men start, and bad too, may it prove  
infection to the Air, that people dying of it  
may help to curse thee for me.  Turns to the body of Ariaspes. 
Could I but call thee back as easily now;  
but that's a Subject for our tears, not hopes!  
there is no piecing Tulips to their stalks,  
when they are once divorced by a rude hand;  
all we can do is to preserve in water  
a little life, and give by courteous Art  
what scanted Nature wants Commission for,  
that thou shalt have: for to thy memory  
such Tribute of moist sorrow I will pay,  
and that so purified by love, that on thy grave  
nothing shall grow but Violets and Primroses,  
of which too, some shall be  
of the mysterious number, so that Lovers shall  
come thither not as to a Tomb, but to an Oracle.  She knocks, and raises the Court. Enter Ladies and Courtiers, as out of their beds. ORB. 
Come! come! help me to weep myself away,  
and melt into a grave, for life is but  
repentance nurse, and will conspire with memory,  
to make my hours my tortures.  ORI. 
What Scene of sorrow's this? both dead!  ORB. 
Dead? ay! and 'tis but half death's triumphs this,  
the King and Prince lie somewhere, just  
such emptietruncks as these.  ORI. 
The Prince?  
then in grief's burden I must bear a part.  SEM. 
The noble Ariaspes— valiant Ziriff too.— Weeps.  ORB. 
Weep'st thou for him, fond Prodigal? dost know  
on whom thou spendest thy tears? this is the man  
to whom we owe our ills; the false Zorannes'  
disguised, not lost; but kept alive, by some  Enter Pasithas, surveys the bodies, finds his Master. 
incensed Power, to punish Persia thus:  
He would have killed me too, but Heaven was just,  
and furnished me with means, to make him pay  
this score of villainy, ere he could do more.  PAS. 
Were you his murderer then?—  Pasithas runs at her, kills her, and flies, Rub her till she come to herself. ORI. 
Ah me! the Queen.—  SEM. 
How do you Madam?  ORB. 
Well,— but I was better, and shall—  Dies. SEM. 
Oh! she is gone for ever.  Enter Lords in their night gowns, Orsames, Philan. ORS. 
What have we here?  
a Churchyard? nothing but silence, and grave?  ORI. 
Oh! here has been (my Lords)  
the blackest night the Persian world e'er knew,  
the King and Prince are not themselves exempt  
from this arrest; but pale and cold, as these,  
have measured out their lengths.  Lo. 
Impossible! which way?  SEM. 
Of that we are as ignorant as you:  
for while the Queen was telling of the Story,  
an unknown villain here has hurt her so,  
that like a sickly Taper, she but made  
one flash, and so expired:  Enter tearing in Pasithas. PHI. 
Here he is, but no confession.  OR. 
Torture must force him then:  
though 'twill indeed, but weakly satisfy  
to know now they are dead, how they did die.  PHI. 
Come take the bodies up, and let us all  
go drown ourselves in tears, this massacre  
has left so torn a state, that 'twill be policy  
as well as debt, to weep till we are blind,  
For who would see the miseries behind?     

Epilogue.  

Our Play is done, and yours doth now begin:  
What different Fancies, people now are in?  
How strange, and odd a ●…ingle it would make,  
If ére they rise; ●…ere possible to take  
All votes.—  
But as when an authentic Watch is shown,  
Each man winds up, and rectifies his own,  
So in our very judgements; first there sits  
A grave Grand jury on it of Town-wits;  
And they give up their verdict; then again  
The other jury of the Court comes in  
(And that's of life and death) for each man sees  
That oft condemns, what th'other jury frees:  
Some three days hence, the Ladies of the Town  
Will come to have a judgement of their own:  
And after them, their servants; then the City,  
For that is modest, and is still last witty.  
'Twill be a week at least yet ere they have  
Resolved to let it live, or give't a grave:  
Such difficulty, there is to unite  
Opinion; or bring it to be right.    


Epilogue for the Court.  
SIR:  
THat th'abusing of your ea●…'s a crime,  
Above th'excuse any six lines in Rhyme  
Can make, the Poet knows: I am but sent  
T'entreat he may not be a Precedent,  
For he does think that in this place there he  
Many have done't as much and more than he;  
But here's, he says, the difference of the Fates,  
He begs a Pardon after't, they Estates.   
FINIS.   

AGLAURA  
LONDON, Printed by john Haviland for Thomas Walkley, and are to be sold at his shop at the Sign of the Flying Horse between York-house and Britain's Burse. 1638.   

Prologue.  

FOre jove, a mighty Sessions: and I fear,  
Though kind last Sizes, 'twill be now severe;  
For it is thought, and by judicious men,  
Aglaura 'scaped only by dying then:  
But 'twould be vain for me now to endear,  
Or speak unto my Lords, the judges here,  
They hold their places by condemning still,  
And cannot show at once mercy and skill;  
For wit's so cruel unto wit, that they  
Are thought to want, that find not want i'th' play.  
But Ladies you, who never liked a plot,  
But where the Servant had his Mistress got,  
And whom to see a Lover die it grieves,  
Although 'tis in worse language that he lives,  
Will likeed w'are confident, since here will be,  
That your Sex ever liked, variety.    


Prologue to the Court.  
'tIs strange perchance (you'll think) that she that died  
At Christmas, should at Easter be a Bride:  
But 'tis a privilege the Poets have,  
To take the long-since dead out of the grave:  
Nor is this all, old Heroës' asleep  
'Twixt marble coverlets, and six foot deep  
In earth, they boldly wake, and make them do  
All they did living here— sometimes more too,  
They give fresh life, reverse and alter Fate,  
And yet more bold, Almightie-like crea●…:  
And out of nothing onelyto deify  
Reason, and Reason's friend, Philosophy,  
Fame, honour, valour, all that's great, or good,  
Or is at least'mongst us, so understood,  
They give, heavens theirs, no handsome woman dies,  
But if they please, is straight some star i'th' skies—  
But oh—  
How those poor men of Metre do  
Flatter themselves with that, that is not true,  
And 'cause they can trim up a little prose,  
And spoil it handsomely, vainly suppose  
theyare Omnipotent, can do all those things  
That can be done only by Gods and Kings.  
Of this wild guilt, he fain would be thought free,  
That writ this Play, and therefore (Sir) by me,  
He humbly begs, you would be pleased to know,  
Aglaura's but reprieved this night, and though  
She now appears upon a Poets call,  
she's not to live, unless you say she shall.    

ACTUS V.  

SCENA I.  Enter Ziriff, Pasithas, and Guard: he place●…m: an●… Exit. A State set out. Enter Ziriff, Jolas, Ariaspes. JOL. 
A Glorious night!  ARI. 
Pray Heaven it prove so.  
Are we not there yet?  ZIR. 
'Tis about this hollow.  They enter the Cave. ARI. 
How now! what region are we got into?  
the inheritance of night;  
have we not mistaken a turning Zirisf,  
and stepped into the confines of some melancholy  
Devil's Territory?  JOL. 
Sure 'tis a part of the first Chaos,  
that would not suffer any change,  ZIR. 
No matter Sir, 'tis as proper for our  
purpose, as the Lobby for the waiting women:  
stay you here, I'll move a little backward,  
and so we shall be sure to put him past  
retreat, you know the word if it be the Prince.  Ziriff goes to the Door. Enter King. ZIR. 
Here Sir, follow me, all's quiet yet.  KING. 
Is he not come then?  ZIR. 
No.  KING. 
Where's Ariaspes?  ZIR. 
Waiting within.  JOL. 
I do not like this waiting,  
nor this fellows leaving of us.  ARI. 
This place does put odd thoughts into thee,  
than thou art in thine own nature too  
as jealous, as Love, or Honour; wear thy sword  
in readiness, and think how near we are a Crown.  ZIR. 
Revenge!—  Guard seizeth on'●…. KING. 
Ha! what's this?  ZIR. 
Bring them forth.—  Brings them forth. ARI. 
The King.  ZIR. 
Yes, and the Prince's friend—  Discovers himself. 
D'you know this face?  KING. 
Zorannes'.  ZOR. 
The very same,  
the wronged Zorannes',— King—  
D'you stare,—  
away with them where I appointed.  KING. 
Traitors, let me go;  
villain, thou dar'st not do this—  ZOR. 
Poor Counterfeit,  
how fain thou now wouldst act a King, and art not:  
stay you,—  to Ariaspes. 
Unhand him,—  Whispers. 
Leave us now.—  Exeunt. Manet Ariasp. Zoran. ARI. 
What does this mean?  
sure he does intend the Crown to me.  ZOR. 
We are alone,  
follow me out of the wood, and thou shalt be  
Master of this again,  
and then best arm and title take it.  ARI. 
Thy offer is so noble, in gratitude I cannot  
but propound gentler conditions,  
we will divide the Empire.  ZOR. 
Now by my father's soul,  
I do almost repent my first intents,  
and now could kill thee scurvily, for thinking  
if I had a mind to rule,  
I would not rule alone,  
let not thy easy faith (lost man)  
fool thee into so dull an heresy;  
Orbella is our quarrel, and I have thought it fit,  
that love should have a nobler way of Justice,  
than Revenge, or Treason.  
If thou dar'st die handsomely, follow me.  Exeunt. And enter both again. ZOR. 
There,—  Gives him his sword. ARI. 
Extremely good; Nature took pains 〈◊〉 swear,  
the villain and the brave are mingled handsomely:—  ZIR. 
'Twas Fate that took it, when it decreed  
we two should meet, nor shall they mingle now,  
we are but brought together straight to part.—  Fight. ARI. 
Some Devil sure has borrowed this shape,  
my sword ne'er stayed thus long to find an entrance.  ZIR. 
To guilty men, all that appear is Devil;  
come trifler, come,—  Fight. ARI. 
Dog, thou hast it.  ZIR. 
Why then it seems my star's as great as his,  
I smile at thee,  Ariaspes pants, and runs at him to catch his sword. 
thou now wouldst have me kill thee,  
and 'tis a courtesy I cannot afford thee,  
I have bethought myself, there will be use  
of thee,— Pasithas— to the rest with him.  Exit. Enter Pasithas, and two of the Guard.— Exeunt. Enter Thersames. THER. 
The Dog-star's got up high, it should be late:  
and sure by this time every waking ear,  
and watchful eye is charmed; and yet me thought  
a noise of weapons struck my ear just now.  
'Twas but my Fancy sure, and were it more,  
I would not tread one step, that did not lead  
to my Aglaura, stood all his Guard betwixt,  
with lightning in their hands.  
Danger, thou Dwarf dressed up in Giants clothes,  
that show'st far off still greater than thou art,  
go, terrify the simple, and the guistie, such  
as with false Optics still do look upon thee:  
but fright not Lovers, we dare look on thee  
in thy worst shapes, and meet thee in them too.—  
Stay, these trees I made my mark, 'tis hereabouts,  
— Love guide me but right this night,  
and Lovers shall restore thee back again  
those eyes the Poets took so boldly from thee.  Exit. A Taper, Table out. Enter Aglaura, with a Torch in one hand, a Dagger in the other. AGL. 
How ill this does become this hand? much worse  
this suits with this, one of the two should go:  
The she within me says, it must be this,—  
honour says this— and honour is Thersames friend.  
What is that she then, is it not a thing  
that sets a price, not upon me, but on  
life in my name, leading me into doubt,  
which when 'thas done, it cannot light me out?  
For fear does drive to Fate, or Fate if we  
do fly, o'ertakes, and holds us, till or death,  
or infamy, or both do seize us.  Puts out the light. 
Ha!— would 'twere in again. Antiques & strange mishapes,  
such as the Porter to my Soul, mine Eye,  
was ne'er acquainted with, fancy lets in,  
like a disrouted multitude, by some strange accident  
pieced together; fear now afresh comes on,  
and charges Love too home.  
— He comes, he comes.—  A little noise below. 
woman, if thou wouldst be the Subject  
of man's wonder, not his scorn hereafter,—  
— now show thyself.  Enter Thersames from the vault, she stabs him as he riseth. THER. 
Unkindly done—  AGL. 
The Prince's voice, defend it Goodness?  THER. 
What art thou that thus poorly  
hast destroyed a life?  AGL. 
Oh sad mistake, 'tis he?  THER. 
Hast thou no voice?  AGL. 
I would I had not, nor a being neither.  THER. 
Aglaura, it cannot be?  AGL. 
Oh still believe so, Sir,  
for 'twas not I indeed, but fatal Love.  THER. 
Love's wounds used to be gentler than these were,  
the pains they give us have some pleasure  
in them, and that these have not.  Enter Ziriff with a taper. 
Oh do not say 'twas you, for that does wound again:  
guard me my better Angel,  
do I wake? my eyes (since I was man)  
ne'er met with any object gave them so much trouble,  
I dare not ask neither to be satisfied,  
she looks so guiltily—  AGL. 
Why do you stare and wonder at a thing  
that you yourself have made thus miserable?  ZIR. 
Good gods, and I o'the party too.  AGL. 
Did you not tell me that the King this night  
meant to attempt my honour, that our condition  
would not admit of middle ways, and that we must  
send them to graves, or lie ourselves in dust?  ZIR. 
Unfortunate mistake!  Ziriff knocks. 
I never did intend our safety by thy hands:  Enter Pasithas. 
Pasithas, go instantly and fetch Andrages  
from his bed; how is it with you Sir?  THER. 
As with the besieged:  
my soul is so beset it does not know,  
whether't had best to make a desperate  
sally out by this port or not?  AGL. 
Sure I shall turn statue here.  THER. 
If thou dost love me, weep not Aglaura:  
all those are drops of blood, and flow from me.  ZIR. 
Now all the gods defend this way of expiation;  
Think'st thou thy crime, Aglaura would be less,  
by adding to it? or canst thou hope  
to satisfy those powers, whom great sins  
do displease, by doing greater.  AGL. 
Discourteous courtesy!  
I had no other means left me than this,  
to let Thersames know I would do nothing  
to him, I would not do unto myself,  
and that thou takest away.  THER. 
Friend, bring me a little nearer,  
I find a kind of willingness to stay,  
and find that willingness something obeyed.  
My blood now it persuades itself  
●…ou did not call in earnest,  
makes not such haste—  AGL. 
Oh my dearest Lord,  
this kindness is so full of cruelty,  
puts such an ugliness on what I have done,  
that when I look upon it, needs must fright  
me from myself, and which is more insufferable,  
I fear from you.  THER. 
Why should that fright thee, which most comforts me?  
I glory in it, and shall smile ●…th' grave,  
to think our love was such, that nothing  
but itself could e'er destroy it.  AGL. 
Destroy it? can it have ever end?  
will you not be thus courteous then in the other world?  
shall we not be together there as here?  THER. 
I cannot tell whether I may or not.  AGL. 
Not tell?  THER. 
No:  
The Gods thought me unworthy of thee here,  
and when thou art more pure,  
why should I not more doubt it?  AGL. 
Because if I shall be more pure,  
I shall be then more fit for you.  
Our Priests assure us an Flys●…m,  
and can that be Elysium where true Lovers  
must not meet? Those Powers that made our loves,  
did they intend them mortal,  
would sure have made them of a courser stuff,  
would they not my Lord?—  THER. 
Prithee speak still,  
this music gives my soul such pleasing business,  
takes it so wholly up, it finds not leisure to  
attend unto the summons death does make,  
yet they are loud and peremptory now,  
and I can only—  Faints. AGL. 
Some prying Power inspire me with  
a way to follow 〈◊〉: heart wilt thou not  
break it of thyself.  ZIR. 
My griefs besot me:  
his soul will sail out with this purple tide,  
and I shall here be found staring  
after't, like a man that's come too short o'th' ship,  
and's left behind upon the land.  She swoons. Enter Andrages. 
Oh welcome, welcome, here lies, Andrages,  
alas too great a trial for thy art.  AND. 
There's life in him: from whence these wounds?  ZIR. 
Oh 'tis no time for story.  AND. 
'Tis not mortal my Lord, bow him gently,  
and help me to infuse this into him;  
the soul is but asleep, and not gone forth.  THER. 
Oh— oh:—  ZIR. 
Hark, the Prince does live.  THER. 
What e'er thou art haste given me now a life;  
and with it all my cares and miseries,  
expect not a reward, no not a thanks.  
If thou wouldst merit from me,  
(yet wh'would be guilty of so lost an action)  
restore me to my quietness again,  
for life and that are most incompatible.  ZIR. 
Still in despairs:  
I did not think till now 'twas in the power  
of Fortune to have robbed Thersames of himself,  
for pity, Sir, and reason live;  
if you will die, die not Aglaura's murdered,  
that's not so handsome: at least die not  
her murdered, and her murderer too;  
for that will surely follow. Look up, Sir,  
this violence of Fortune cannot last ever:  
who knows but all these clouds are shadows,  
to set off your fairer days, if it grows blacker,  
and the storms do rise, this harbour's always open.  THER. 
What sayst thou, Aglaura?  AGL. 
What says Andrages?  AND. 
Madam, would Heaven his mind would admit  
as easy cure, as his body will,  
'Twas only want of blood,  
and two hours' rest restores him to himself.  ZIR. 
And by that time it may be Heaven  
will give our miseries some ease:  
come Sir, repose upon a bed,  
there's time enough to day.  THER. 
Well, I will still obey,  
though I must fear it will ●…e with me,  
but as 'tis with tortured men,  
whom States preserve only to wrack again.  Exeunt. Take off table. Enter Ziriff with a taper. ZIR. 
All fast too, here  
They sleep to night  
i'their winding sheets I think, there's such  
a general quiet.  
Oh! here's light I warrant you:  
for lust does take as little rest, as care, or age.  
Courting her glass, I swear, fie! that's a flatterer Madam,  
in me you shall see trulier what you are.  He knocks. Enter Queen. ORB. 
What make you up at this strange hour my Lord?  ZIR. 
My business is my boldness warrant,  
(Madam)  
and I could well afford t'have been without it now,  
had Heaven so pleased.  ORB. 
'Tis a sad Prologue,  
what follows in the name of virtue?  ZIR. 
The King—  ORB. 
I: what of him? is well is he not?  ZIR. 
Yes,—  
If to be on's journey to the other world  
be to be well, he is.  ORB. 
Why he's not dead, is he?  ZIR. 
Yes, Madam, dead.  ORB. 
How? where?  ZIR. 
I do not know particulars.  ORB. 
Dead!  ZIR. 
Yes (Madam).  ORB. 
Art sure he's dead?  ZIR. 
Madam I know him as certainly dead,  
as I know you too must die hereafter  ORB. 
Dead!  ZIR. 
Yes, dead.  ORB. 
We must all die,  
the Sisters spin no cables for us mortals;  
theyare threads; and Time, and chance—  
trust me I could weep now,  
but watery distillations do but ill on graves,  
they make the lodging colder.  She knocks. ZIR. 
What would you Madam?  ORB. 
Why my friends, my Lord;  
I would consult and know, what's to be done.  ZIR. 
(Madam) 'tis not so safe to raise the Court,  
things thus unsettled, if you please to have—  ORB. 
Where's Ariaspes?  ZIR. 
In's dead sleep by this time sure.  ORB. 
I know he is not! find him instantly.  ZIR. 
I'm gone.—  Turns back again. 
But (Madam) why make you choice of him, from whom  
if the succession meet disturbance,  
all must come of danger?  ORB. 
My Lord, I am not yet so wise, as to be  
jealous; pray dispute no further.  ZIR. 
Pardon me (Madam) if before I go  
I must unlock a secret to you; such a one  
as while the King did breathe durst know no air,  
Zorannes' lives.  ORB. 
Ha!  ZIR. 
And in the hope of such a day as this  
has lingered out a life, snatching, to feed  
his almost famished eyes,  
sights now and then of you, in a disguise.  ORB. 
Strange! this night is big with miracle!  ZIR. 
If you did love him, as they say you did,  
and do so still; 'tis now within your power:  ORB. 
I would it were, my Lord, but I am now  
no private woman, if I did love him once,  
(as 'tis so long ago, I have forgot)  
my youth and ignorance may well excuse.  ZIR. 
Excuse it?  ORB. 
Yes, excuse it Sir.  ZIR. 
Though I confess I loved his father much,  
and pity him, yet having offered it  
unto your thoughts: I have discharged a trust;  
and zeal shall stray no further.  
(Your pardon Madam:)  Exit. ORB. 
May be 'tis but a plot to keep off Ariaspes  
greatness, which he must fear, because he knows  
he hates him: for these great Statesmen,  
that when time has made bold with the King  
and Subject, throwing down all fence  
that stood betwixt their power  
and others right, are on a change,  
like wanton Salmons coming in with floods,  
that leap o'er wires and nets, and make their way  
to be at the return to every one a prey.  Enter Ziriff. ZIR. 
Look here vain thing, and see thy sins full blown:  
There's scarce a part in all this face, thou hast  
not been forsworn by, and Heaven forgive thee for't!  
for thee I lost a Father, Country, friends,  
myself almost, for I lay buried long;  
and when there was no use thy love could pay  
too great, thou mad'st the principle away:— Prompt.—  
As wantoness entering a Garden, take  
the first fair flower they meet, and  
treasureed in their laps.  
Then seeing more, do make 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉,  
throwing in one and one, till at the length  
the first poor flower o'ercharged, with too much weight  
withers, and dies:  
so hast thou dealt with me,  
and having killed me first, I will kill—  ORB. 
Hold— hold—  
Not for my sake, but Orbella's (Sir) a bare  
and single death is such a wrong to Justice,  
I must needs except against it.  
Find out a way to make ●…ee long a dying;  
for death's no punishment, it is the sense,  
the pains and fears afore that makes a death:  
To think what I had had, had I had you,  
what I have lost in losing of myself;  
are deaths far worse than any you can give:  
yet kill me quickly, for if I have time,  
I shall so wash this soul of mine with tears,  
make it so fine, that you would be afresh  
in love with it, and so perchance I should  
again come to deceive you.  She rises up weeping, and hanging down her head. ZIR. 
So rises day, blushing at night's deformity:  
and so the pretty flowers blubbered with dew,  
and over-washt with rain, hang down their heads,  
I must not look upon her.  (Queen goes towards him.) ORB. 
Were but the Lilies in this face as fresh  
as are the roses; had I but innocence  
joined to these blushes, I should then be bold,  
for when they went a begging they were ne'er denied,  
●…is but a parting kiss Sir—  Enter Pasithas, and two Guard. ZIR. 
I dare not grant it.— Pasithas— away with her.  
A bed put out: Thersames and Aglaura on it, Andrages by.  THER. 
She wakeed me with a sigh,  
and yet she sleeps herself, sweet Innocence,  
can it be sin to love this shape,  
and if it be not, why am I persecuted thus?—  
she sighs again, sleep that drowns all cares,  
cannot I see charm loves? blessed pillows,  
through whose fineness does appear  
the violets, lilies, and the roses  
you are stuffed withal, to whose softness  
I owe the sweet of this repose,  
permit me to leave with you this,—  Kisses them, she wakes. 
see if I have not wakeed her,  
sure I was borne, Aglaura, to destroy  
thy quiet.  AGL. 
Mine, my Lord,  
call you this drowsiness a quiet then?  
believe me, Sir, 'twas an intruder I much  
struggled with, and have to thank a dream,  
not you, that it thus left me.  THER. 
A dream! what dream, my Love?  AGL. 
I dreamt (Sir) it was day,  
and the fear you should be found here.  Enter Ziriff. ZIR. 
Awake; how is it with you, 〈◊〉?  THER. 
Well, extremely well, so well, that had I now  
no better a remembrancer than pain,  
I should forget I e'er was hurt,  
thanks to Heaven, and good Andrages.  ZIR. 
And more than thanks I hope we yet shall  
●…ive to pay him. How old's the night?  AND. 
Farspent I fear, my Lord.  ZIR. 
I have a cause that should be heard  
yet ere day break, and I must needs entreat  
you Sir to be the Judge in't.  THER. 
What cause, Zorannes'?  ZIR. 
When you have promised—  THER. 
'Twere hard I should deny thee any thing.—  Exit Zorannes'. 
Know'st thou, Andrages, what he means?  AND. 
Nor cannot guess, Sir,—  Draw in the bed. 
I read a trouble in his face, when first  
he left you, but understood it not.  Enter Zorannes', King, Ariaspes, Jolas, Queen, and two or three Guard. ZOR. 
Have I not pitched my nets like a good Huntsman?  
Look, Sir, the noblest of the Herd are here.  THER. 
I am astonished.  ZOR. 
This place is yours.—  Helps him up. THER. 
What wouldst thou have me do.  ZOR. 
Remember, Sir, your promise,  
I could do all I have to do, alone;  
but Justice is not Justice unless't be justly done:  
here than I will begin, for here began my wrongs.  
This woman (Sir) was wondrous fair, and wondrous  
kind,— I, fair and kind, for so the story runs,  
she gave me look for look, and glance for glance,  
and every sigh like echoes was returned,  
we sent up vow by vow, promise on promise,  
so thick and strangely multiplied,  
that sure we gave the heavenly Registers  
their business, and other mortals oaths  
than went for nothing, we felt each others pains,  
each others joyces, thought the same thought,  
and spoke the very same;  
we were the same, and I have much ado  
to think she couldbe ill, and I not  
be so too, and after this, all this (Sir)  
she was false, loved him, and him,  
and had I not begun revenge,  
till she had made an end of changing,  
I had had the Kingdom to have killed,  
what does this deserve?  THER. 
A punishment he best can make  
that suffered the wrong.  ZOR. 
I thank you, Sir,  
for him I will not trouble you,  
his life is mine, I won it fairly,  
and his is yours, he lost it foully to you—  
to him, Sir, now:  
A man so wicked that he knew no good,  
but so as't made his sins the greater for't.  
Those ills, which singly acted bred despair  
in others, he acted daily, and ne'er thought  
upon them.  
The grievance each particular has against him  
I will not meddle with, it were to give him  
a long life, to give them hearing,  
I'll only speak my own.  
First then the hopes of all my youth,  
and a reward which Heaven had settled on me,  
(if holy contracts can do any thing)  
he ravished from me, killed my father,  
Aglaura's father, Sir, would have whored my sister,  
and murdered my friend, this is all:  
and now your sentence, Sir.  THER. 
We have no punishment can reach these crimes:  
therefore 'tis justest sure to send him where  
theyare wittier to punish than we are here:  
and cause repentance oft stops that proceeding,  
a sudden death is sure thegreatest punishment.  ZOR. 
I humbly thank you, Sir.  KING. 
What a strange glass th'have showed me now my 〈◊〉  
in; our sins like to our shadows,  
when our day is in its glory scarce appeared,  
towards our evening how great and monstrous  
they are.  ZOR. 
Is this all you have to say?—  Draws. THER. 
Hold:— now go you up.  ZOR. 
What mean you, Sir?  THER. 
Nay, I denied not you,—  
That all thy accusations are just,  
I must acknowledge,  
and to these crimes, I have but this t'oppose,  
he is my Father, and thy Sovereign.—  
'Tis wickedness (dear Friend) we go about  
●…o punish, and when w'have murdered him,  
what difference is there 'twixt him and  
ourselves, but that he first was wicked?—  
Thou now wouldst kill him 'cause he killed thy Father,  
and when thouhast killed, have not I the self same  
quarrel?  ZOR. 
Why Sir, you know you would yourself  
have done it.  THER. 
True: and therefore 'tis I beg his life,  
there was no way for me to have  
redeemed th'intent, but by a real  
saving of it.  Be ready Courtiers, and Guard, with their swords drawn, at the breasts of the Prisoners. 
If he did ravish from thee thy Orbella,  
remember that that wicked issue had  
a noble parent, Love,— Remember  
how he loved Zorannes' when he was Ziriff,—  
there's something due to that.—  
If you must needs have blood for your revenge,  
take it here— despise it not Zorannes':  Zorannes' turns away. 
The gods themselves, whose greatness  
makes the greatness of our sins,  
and heightens 'em above what we can do  
unto each other, accept of sacrifice  
for what we do 'gainst them,  
why should not you, and 'tis much thriftier too:  
you cannot let out life there, but my honour  
goes, and all the life you can take here,  
posterity will give me back again;  
see, Aglaura weeps:  
that would have been ill Rhetoric in me,  
but where it is, it cannot but persuade.  ZOR. 
Th'have thawed the ice about my heart;  
I know nor what to do.  KING. 
Come down, come down, I will be King again,  
there's none so fit to be the Judge of this  
as 〈◊〉; the life you showed such zeal to save,  
I here could willingly return you back;  
but that's the common price of all revenge.  Enter Guard, Orsames, Philan, Courtiers, Orithie, Semanthe. JOL. ARI. 
Ha, ha, ha: how they look now?  ZOR. 
Death: what's this?  THER. 
Betrayed again;  
all th'ease our Fortune gives our miseries is hope,  
and that still proving false, grows part of it.  KING. 
From whence this Guard?  ARI. 
Why Sir, I did corrupt, while we were his prisoners,  
one of his own to raise the Court; shallow souls,  
that thought we could not countermine;  
come Sir, y'are in good posture to dispatch them.  KING. 
Lay hold upon his instrument:  
Fond man, dost think I am in love with villainy?  
all the service they can do me here  
is but to let these see the right I do  
them now is unconstrained, then thus I do proceed.  
Upon the place Zorannes' lost his life,  
I vow to build a tomb, and on that tomb  
I vow to pay three whole years penitence,  
if in that time I find that heaven and you  
can pardon; I shall find again the way  
to live amongst you.  THER. 
Sir, be not so cruel to yourself, this is an age.  KING. 
'Tis now irrevocable, thy Father's lands  
I give thee back again, and his commands,  
and with them leave to wear the Tiara,  
that man there has abused.—  
To you Orbella,  
who it seems are foul as well as I,  
I do prescribe the self same physic  
I do take myself:  
but in another place, and for a longer time,  
Diana's Nunnery.  ORB. 
Above my hopes.  KING. 
For you, who still have been  
the ready instrument of all my cruelties,  
and there have canceled all the bonds of brother,  
perpetual banishment: nor, should  
this line expire, shall thy right have a place.  ARI. 
Hell and Furies.—  Exit. KING. 
Thy crimes deserve no less, yet cause thou wert  
Heavens instrument to save my life,  
thou only hast that time of banishment,  
I have of penitence.—  Comes down. Ziriff offers to kiss the King's hand. JOL. 
May it be plague and famine here till I return.  
No: thou shalt not yet forgive me:  KING. 
Aglaura, thus I freely part with thee,  
and part with all fond flames and warm desires,  
I cannot fear new agues in my blood  
since I have overcome the charms  
thy beauty had, no other ever can  
have so much power, Thersames, thou look'st pale,  
is't want of rest?  THER. 
No Sir; but that's a story for your ear—  They whisper. ORS. 
A strange and happy change.  ORI. 
All joys wait on you ever.  AGL. 
Orithie,  
how for thy sake now could I wish  
Love were no Mathematic point,  
but would admit division, that Thersames might,  
though at my charge, pay thee the debt he owes thee.  ORI. 
Madam, I loved the Prince, not myself;  
since his virtues have their full rewards,  
I have my full desires.  KING. 
What miracles of preservation have we had?  
how wisely have the stars prepared you for felicity?  
nothing endears a good more than the contemplation  
of the difficulty we had to attain to it:  
but see, Night's Empire's out,  
and a more glorious auspiciously does begin;  
let us go serve the gods, and then prepare  
for jollity, this day I'll borrow from my vows,  
nor shall it have a common celebration,  
since 't must be,  
a high record to all posterity.—  Exeunt omnes.   

Epilogue.  

Plays are like Feasts, and every Act should be  
Another Course, and still variety:  
But in good ●…aith provision of wit  
Is grown of late so difficult to get,  
That do we what we can, w'are not able,  
Without cold meats to furnish out the Table.  
Who knows but it was needless too? may be  
'Twas here, as in the Coachman's trade, and he  
That turns in the least compass, shows most Art:  
How e'er, the Poet hopes (Sir) for his part,  
You'll like not those so much, who show their skill  
In entertainment, as who show their will.   
FINIS.