THE ROYAL SLAVE.  
A tragicomedy.  
Presented to the King and Queen by the Students of Christ-Church in Oxford. August 30. 1636.  
Presented since to both their Majesties at Hampton-Court by the king's Servants.  
OXFORD, Printed by WILLIAM TURNER for THOMAS ROBINSON. 1639.   

THE prologue TO THE KING AND queen.  
The first Appearance a Temple of the Sun.  
One of the Persian Magi discovered in a Temple worshipping the Sun, at the sight of a new Majesty leaves the Altar, and addresseth himself to the Throne.  

FRom my Devotions yonder am I come,  
Drawn by a nearer and more glorious Sun.  
Hail o ye sacred Lights; who do inspire  
More than yond holy and eternal Fire.   

A foreign Court lands here upon your Shore,  
By showing its own worth to show yours more:  
Set here as Saphires are by your Queen's veins,  
Not to boast Colour, but confess their stains.  
No matter now for Art, you make all fit;  
Your Presence being still beyond all wit.  
Whiles by such Majesty our Scene is dressed,  
You come both th' Entertainer and the Guest.    

THE prologue TO THE uNIVERSITY.  
A Priest discovered as before.  

AFter our Rites done to the King, we do  
Think some Devotions to be paid to you.   

But I could wish some Question hung up there,  
That we by Genuine sounds might take your ear.  
Or that our Scene in Bodley's Building lay,  
And th' metaphysics were cast into a Play.  
To please your Palates I could wish there were  
A new Professor, Poet of the Chair.   

But as where th' Earth cannot ascend, we know  
The Sun comes down and cheers her here below:  
So we (the Stage being aired now, and the Court  
Not smelled) hope you'll descend unto our sport;  
And think it no great trespass, if we do  
Summe o'er our Trifle once again to you.   

'Tis not the same as then, that glorious Press  
Did pass both for the matter, and the dress.  
For where such Majesty was seen, we may  
Say, the Spectators only made the Play.   

Expect no new thing yet; 'tis without doubt  
The former Face, only the Eyes put out,  
But you add new ones to it, being sent  
As for our grace, so for our supplement.   

We hope here's none inspired from late damned books,  
Will sour it into Tragedy with their looks;  
The little Ruff, or Careless, without fear  
May this securely see, securely hear.  
There's no man shot at here, no Person's hit,  
All being as free from danger, as from wit.  
And such should still the first adventures be  
Of him, who's but a Spy in Poetry.   

No Envy then or Faction fear we, where  
All like yourselves is innocent and clear.  
The Stage being private then, as none must sit,  
And, like a Trap, lay wait for sixpence wit;  
So none must cry up Booty, or cry down;  
Such Mercenary Guise fits not the Gown.  
No Traffic then: Applause, or Hiss elsewhere  
May pass as ware, 'tis only judgement here.    

The Prologue to their Majesties at Hampton-Court.  
Most mighty KING, and Most gracious queen:  

THe rites and Worship are both old, but you  
Have pleased to make both Priest and People new.  
The same Sun in yond Temple doth appear;  
But theyare your Rays, which give him lustre here.  
That Fire hath watched e'er since; but it hath been  
Only Your gentler breath that kept it in.  
Things of this nature scarce survive that night  
That gives them Birth; they perish in the sight;  
Cast by so far from afterlife, that there  
Is scarce aught can be said, but that they were.  
Some influence yet may cross this fate; what You  
Please to awaken must still come forth new.  
And though the untouched Virgin Flower doth bring  
The true and native dowries of the Spring;  
Yet some desires there are perhaps, which do  
Affect that Flower chafed and sullied too:  
For in some bosoms stuck, it comes from thence  
Double-perfumed, and deeper strikes the Sense.  
And we are bid plead this; foreseeing how  
That which was fresh ere while may languish now.  
Things twice seen loose; but when a King or Queen  
Commands a second sight, they're then first seen.    

The Persons of the Play.  

Speakers  
Arsamnes, King of Persia. 

His Lords.  
Praxaspes,  
Masistes,  
Hydarnes,  
Orontes,    
Molops, A jailor.  
Cratander, the Royal Slave. 

4. other Ephesian Captives.  
Philotas,  
Stratocles,  
Leocrates,  
Archippus,   

2. citizens of Ephesus disguised.  
Photion,  
Hippias,    
3. Magi, or Persian Priests.  
Atossa, Queen to Arsamnes. 

Her Ladies.  
Mandane,  
Ariene,    
Servants.   

Mutes  
Masquers, 6. ladies.  
musicians.  
2. Strumpets.   
The Habits Persian. The Scene Sardis.   

Act. 1.  

Sce. 1.  2d Appearance, a City in the front, and a Prison on the side. Philotas, Stratocles, Leocrates, Archippus singing in the Prison, Molops harkening without. Mol 
THese wicked Ephesian Captives, are most everlasting Tipplers; I charmed my fleas with'em last night, and left them too I'm sure well to live, and yet they're at it again this morning.  Slaves within. 
Hem! hem! hem! A pox on our jailor. &c.  Mol. 
So! now they're tuning their Pipes. O the Religion of these Greeks! they sing and drink down the Sun, and then they sing and drink him up again. Some drunken Hymn I warrant you towards now, in the praise of their great huge, rolling, Tunbellyed god Bacchus as they call him. Let's harken a little.  The slave's song within. 

'A pox on our jailor, and on his fat Jowl  
'there's liberty lies in the bottom o'th' Bowl. Mol. That's. that's I.  
'A fig for whatever the Rascal can do,  
Our Dungeon is deep, but our Cup's so too. ay again: good good.  
'Then drink we a round in despite of our Foes,  
' And make our hard Irons cry clink in the Close.   Mol. 
Wondrous good i'faith! These fettered Swans chant it most melodiously before their deaths. Sure there is a great deal of pleasure in being hanged; for I have observed it e'er since I was a little one, that they always sing before they go to't. But here's that will spoil your voices my Friends.  Phil. 
Who's there?  Mol. 
Your friend at a dead lift; your Landlord Molops.  Phil. 
Now grand Commissioner of fate; what wouldst thou have Heir apparent to Pluto?  He opens the door, and the Slaves enter. Mol. 
Come forth; and if you can endure to read, her's a Persian line in my hand will instruct you.  shows'em a halter. Stra. 
Guardian of Rags and Vermin, Protector of half-breeches and no shirts, what's thy Rascalship's pleasure?  Mol. 
Good words Sir, good words: I am your Destiny, do you not see your Thread of Life here?  Leoc. 
Yes, yes, 'tis of thy wives one twisting, good Molops, I know the Promotion of your Family: she came from the Web-errantry of highway-Inkle, to the domestic turning and winding of home bred Hemp, and thence gets a three-half-penny Legacy at the departure of every wronged Sinner.  Archip. 
And as for thyself, had not that weighty bulk of thine cracked so many Gibbets, that the King began to fear his Forests, thou hadst never been preserved to whiffle plagues as thou usherest us to the Bar, and take away the Judge's stomachs as often as they come to eat upon Life and Death, and celebrate the Funerals of distressed Gentlemen.  Mol. 
You dying men may be impudent by your places, but I'd wish you to compose your countenances and your manners both, for the King is coming to visit you.  Phil. 
What mak'st thou here then? though I easily believe thou hast an ambition to be seen in good company, yet prithee be gone, and don't discredit us. The King loves no Garbage-tubs.  Mol. 
The King shall be informed of the foul words you give his Officers.  Stra. 
Why what can he do? he won't let us go and conquer us again, will he?  Leoc. 
But good honest Landlord, what's the king's intent to honour us with his Royal visit?  Archip. 
To assign us perhaps some three or four hundred stripes aday a piece, to take down my Landlord's body, and make him in case to suffer what he hath been long adjudged to.  Mol. 
No, Sauciness, 'tis to make one of you King.  Arch. 
Then Sauciness, know your Masters.  Mol. 
Be not mistaken: 'tis not any way to honour you, but to make himself sport. For you must know, that 'tis the custom of the Persian Kings after a Conquest, to take one of the Captives, and adorn him with all the Robes of Majesty, giving him all Privileges for three full days, that he may do what he will, and then be certainly led to death.  Phil. 
Will he allow so long? I'd give my life at any time for one day's Royalty; 'tis space enough to new mould a Kingdom. His Majesty useth us wondrous reasonably, I'd as lief deal with him as any man I know. But who's to have our clothes, Sirrah, when we have done?  Mol. 
'Tis a small fee that the State hath entailed upon my Place an't please you.  Phil. 
By my troth! guessed so: I was wondering how their Courtiers could go so brave with so little means.  Stra. 
Well, what must be, must be. I was afraid I should have died a silly foolish old Animal, called Virgin. But now, have at one of the Ladies ere I go: I have a strong desire to leave some Posterity behind me. I would not have the house of the Stratocles decay for want of Issue.  Leoc. 
If I have the fortune of't, I'll Revel it all night; Kings they say, ought not to sleep for the good of the people.  Arch. 
Sirrah jailor, see you send Mistress Turnkey your wife to take us up whores enough: and be sure she let none of the young Students of the Law forestall the Market.  Mol. 
Peace, the King approaches: stand in your ranks orderly, and show your breeding; and be sure you blow nothing on the Lords.   

Act. 1.  
Sce. 2.  To them Arsamnes, Praxaspes, Hydarnes, Masistes, Orontes, Priests; after a while Cratander. Arsam. 

ARe these the fairest, and the handsomest  
'mong all the Captives?   Mol. 
There is one more which I set apart; a good personable fellow, but he's wondrous heavy and bookish, and therefore I thought him unfit for any honour.  Arsam. 

Go call him forth; there's none of all these has  
A Forehead for a Crown; their blood runs thick,  
As if't would blot a sword.   Enter Mol. with Cratander. 

See, there comes one  
Armed with a serious and Majestic look,  
As if he'd read Philosophy to a King:  
We've conquered something now. What readst thou there?   Mol. 
I believe he's cunning a Hymn against the good Time.  Crat. 

'Tis a discourse o'th' Nature of the Soul;  
That shows the vicious Slaves, but the well inclined  
Free, and their own though conquered.   Arsam. 

Thou dost speak  
As if thou wert victorious, not Arsamnes.   Crat. 

I not deny your Conquest, for you may  
Have virtues to entitle't yours; but otherwise,  
If one of strange and ill contrived desires,  
One of a narrow or intemperate mind  
Prove Master of the field, I cannot say  
That he hath conquered, but that he hath had  
A good hand of it; he hath got the day,  
But not subdued the men: Victory being  
Not fortune's gift, but the deservings Purchase,   Arsam. 
Whom dost thou call deserving?  Crat. 

Him, who dares  
Die next his heart in cold blood; him, who fights  
Not out of thirst, or the unbridled lust  
Of a fleshed sword, but out of Conscience  
To kill the Enemy, not the man. Who when  
The Lawrell's planted on his brow, e'en then  
Under that safe-protecting Wreath, will not  
Contemn the Thunderer, but will  
Acknowledge all his strength derived, and in  
A pious way of gratitude return  
Some of the spoil to Heaven in Sacrifice;  
As Tenants do the first fruits of their Trees,  
In an acknowledgement that the rest is due.   Arsam. 

True, Tell me, wert thou then to pay thy vows  
What wouldst thou sacrifice? the best, or worst?   Crat. 

The best, unto the Best. If I had destined  
An Ox unto the Altar, he should be  
Fair, and well fed; for th' Deity doth not love  
The maimed, or misshapen, 'cause it is  
A thing so different from himself, deformity  
Being one of Nature's trespasses: he should  
Be crowned then, and conducted solemnly,  
That my Religion might be specious,  
'Twere stealth else, not Devotion.   Arsam. 

Bravely said.  
But ('t's pity) thou hast reasoned all this while  
Against thyself, for our Religion doth  
Require the Immolation of one Captive;  
And thou hast proved that he is best bellowed  
That best deserveth to be spared.   Crat. 

I could  
Tell you, the Gods have neither appetite  
Nor entrails; that they do not hunger after  
Your Cookery of sacrifice, and that  
A grain of Incense, or a piece of Gum,  
If offered with Devotion, may redeem  
A destined Hecatomb. But this would be  
To deprecate my fate; which by your Sun,  
Your Sun that doth require me, I expect  
With the same mind, as I would do my Nuptials.   Arsam. 

And so't shall come, thy shape and virtues do  
every and furnish thee for Heaven. I would  
Or thou hadst fled, or I not conquered.  
Adorn him with Robes. But thou must swear  
First to be faithful to the State.   Crat. 
I swear.  He kisseth the Sceptre. The Priest's song whiles he puts on the Robes. 

'Come from the Dungeon to the Throne  
to be a King, and straight be none.  
' Reign then a while, that thou mayst be  
'Fitter to fall by Majesty.   Chorus 

'So Beasts for sacrifice we feed;  
' First they are crowned, and then they bleed.  
'Wash with thy Blood what wars have done  
' Offensive to our God the Sun:  
'That as thou fallest we may see  
' Him pleased, and set as red as thee.  
'Enjoy the Glories then of state,  
' Whiles pleasures ripen thee for fate.   Chorus 
'So Beasts: &c.  Arsam. 

Now then, Cratander, I do here indulge thee  
All the Prerogatives of Majesty  
For three full days; which being expired, that then  
Thou may'st fall honourably, I intend  
To strike the blow myself.   Ex. Arsam. Crat. 

I neither take  
New courage from the Power, nor suffer new  
Fears from the Death that waits it: both are things  
That have two ears, by which they may be taken;  
So that they are indifferent in themselves;  
And only good or bad as they are ordered.  
Off with their shackles Sirrah: you my Lords  
Take order they be quickly well attired,  
That they may come to Court, and do us service.  
'Tis next of all our Royal pleasure, that  
Battle be reinforced by the next Sun,  
To make our Conquest perfect: all's not safe  
Till the Snake leave to threaten with his tail.  
Our Reign is short, and business much, be speedy.  
Our Counsels and our deeds must have one birth.   Ex. Crat. Mol. 
If you'll make use of any Ornaments, I've a couple of Jack-chains at your service.. Come Gentlemen, please you to follow, I'll give you ease of your Irons suddenly.  Phil. 
Sirrah be quick, that my foot may be at liberty to kick thee.  Ex. Mol. and Slaves. Prax. 

Whether tends the mind of this ambitious wretch?  
H'hath thoughts so hasty, and so large, as if  
he'd overrun the whole world in a breath.   Hyd. 

I like the courage of the man: methinks  
H'hath given a taste, how worthy he is of  
A longer Kingdom.   Masist. 
You'll obey him then?  Hyd. 

I done't obey  
Him, but the King; as they that pay their vows  
Unto the Deity, shrouded in the Image.   Masist. 

True, 'tis the King's will he should be obeyed  
But he's a Slave; the man looks personable,  
And fit for Action, but he is a Slave.  
He may be noble, virtuous, generous, all,  
But he is still a Slave.   Oron. 

As if the sullying  
Must turn all purer mettle into dross;  
Or that a jewel might not sometimes be  
In the possession of a private man.   Mas. 

What? you too for the rising Sun my Lord  
Though't be but a Meteor cast from the true one?  
If that the conquered Hart must lead the Lion,  
I'll teach my wishes to run thwart unto  
That large success you look for.   Prax. 

Be my fears  
No Omen to the Kingdom, o ye Gods,  
But I suspect, this Comic folly will  
Sport our free Monarchy into a Nation  
Of cheated Slaves. But peace; the Queen.   Oron. 

We two  
Will go, and see his carriage.   Prax. 

Do my Lords;  
And 'cause you wish his State so well, pray see  
The Slaves provided of their clothes.   Ex. Oron. Hyd.  

Act. 1.  
Sce. 3.  To them Atossa, Mandane, Ariene. Atos. 

Y'Have seen  
This Three-days King my Lords? I cannot sport  
At th' Miseries of men: methinks I feel  
A touch of pity, as often as I view him.  
How do you think he'll bear his State?   Mas. 

As Schoolboys  
In time of Misrule, look big a while, and then  
Return dejected to the Rod.   Mand. 

I wonder  
No woman's chosen Queen for company.  
These Male wits are but gross and sluggish; faith  
You'd see a delicate Comedy, if that  
A she wit might but Imp his Reign.   Prax. 

O Madam!  
Your Sex is too imperious to Rule;  
You are too busy, and too stirring, to  
Be put in Action; your Curiosity  
Would do as much harm in a Kingdom, as  
A Monkey in a Glass-shop; move and remove,  
Till you had broken all.   Arie. 

Things than it seems  
Are very brittle, that you dare not trust us.   Prax. 

Your Closet and your Senate would be one;  
You'd Gossip at the Council-table, where  
The grand contrivance of some finer Posset  
Would be a State affair.   Mand. 

I never knew  
But this one difference yet twixt us and you:  
Your follies are more serious, your vanities  
Stronger, and thicker woven; and your Counsels  
About the razing of a Fort or City,  
Contrived as ours about a mess of spoon-meat;  
So that you laugh, and are laughed at again.   Atos. 

I hope you do but exercise, your wits  
Are not at sharps?   Mand. 

we'll venture how he will,  
Foils, or bare points we care not.   Atos. 

Cease the strife.  
How's this Cratander qualified, my Lords'  
What virtues has he?   Mas. 

No great store of virtues;  
he's a tough fellow, one that seems to stand  
Much on a resolute carelessness, and hath  
A spice of that unnecessary thing  
Which the mysterious call Philosophy.  
Here comes a couple can inform you better:  
They have observed the thing.    

Act. 1.  
Sce. 4.  To them Hydarnes, Orontes. Atos. 

MY Lords, what think you  
Of this new King? what doth he do? what is he?   Hyd. 

he's one that knows, and dares preserve his own  
Honour, and others too; a man as free  
From wronging any, as himself; he bears  
A Kingdom in his look; a kingdom that  
Consists of Beauty, seasoned with Discretion.  
His Graces are virile, and comely too:  
Grave, and severe delights so tempering  
The softness of his other pleasures, that  
A settled full content doth thence arise,  
And wholly take up the beholder's thoughts.   Arie. 

Why then he'll turn the Scene; we did expect  
Something that would have saved us the labour  
Of reading Playbooks, and Love-stories.   Oron. 

See,  
How you're mistaken Madam: he doth carry  
All things with such a State, and yet so free  
From an insulting Pride, that you'd conceive  
Judgement and power put into the Scales,  
And neither overpoising, whiles he shows  
Rather that he can rule, then that he will.   Mas. 

Th' afflicted ne'er want praises. O how false  
Doth th' Eye of pity see! the only way  
To make the Foul seem gracious, is to be  
Within the ken of death; he that e'er while  
Would have been thought a Monster, being now  
Condemned to die, is thought an Hero.   Mand. 

Truly,  
I think you have not yet been near your death.   Mas. 
I've been but seldom with your Ladyship.  Atos. 

Away, let's go and view again: he promiseth  
Something that is not sport: If he do well,  
And keep his virtues up until his fall,  
I'll pay a good wish to him as he's going,  
And a fair mention of him when he's gone.   { Ex. Atos. Mand. Arie.  

Act. 1.  
Sce. 5.  To them Arsamnes. Arsam. 
HOw doth our new King bear his Royalty?  Prax. 

If he go still on thus, his three days' folly  
Will fill your Annals.   Mas. 

He is grown the talk  
And sight of all the Court: h' hath eyes chained to him,  
And some say hearts; nor are they mean ones, such  
As he may steal without being missed, but those  
The theft of whom turns sacrilege.   Arsam. 

I hope  
Atossa is not in the Roll; he dares not  
Be favoured by my Queen.   Hyd. 

Her pure Affections  
Are sacred as her Person, and her thoughts  
Soaring above the reach of common Eyes,  
Are like those better Spirits, that have nothing  
Of Earth admixed, but yet look down upon  
Those number of Inhabitants, and where  
They see a worthy mind oppressed, vouchsafe  
At least to help with pity.   Arsam. 

Doth she then  
Seem to compassionate his fortune? we  
Must watch his Actions narrowly.   Prax. 

He may  
Grow insolent else past remedy: but yet  
Your Majesty hath a preventing eye.  
He may, when that his Channel's full, discharge  
His streams on all that's round him, rushing forth  
With a strong headlong Torrent, as mischievous  
As uncontrollable, th' ungrateful waters  
Choking e'en that which gave 'em life; but yet  
You can kill evils by first seeing them.   Oron. 

All this hath taken up but one Ear only;  
The other, and the softer is reserved.  
Religion, and your word (which, equally  
As that, is binding) are both passed for three days:  
To cut him off before, were to abridge  
Your Triumph, and Devotion.   Arsam. 

He must live  
And Reign his time prescribed; but he must not  
Perform the Actions he intends. Let then  
All the delights and pleasures, that a Slave  
Admires in Kings be offered. Though an hundred  
Still watchful eyes beset his head, yet there  
Is one way left; Music may subtly creep  
And rock his senses so, that all may sleep.   { Exeunt.  
Finis Act. 1.   

Act. 2.  

Sce. 1.  3 Appearance a stately Palace. Cratander. Cra. 

PErish their Tables, and themselves: a Throne  
May stand without those tumults of delights,  
That wait on big and pompous Luxury.  
I'll cross their expectation, and quite banish  
All that their weaker minds do think delight.  
king's pleasures are more subtle, than to be  
Seen by the vulgar; they are Men, but such  
As ne'er had any dregs, or if they had,  
Dropped 'em as they were drawing up from out  
The groveling Press of Mortals. To offend  
Beyond the reach of Law without control,  
Is not the Nature, but the vice of Power;  
And he is only great, that dares be good.    

Act. 2.  
Sce. 2.  To him Praxaspes, Masistes. Prax. 

HE wears a serious look still; we may hope  
As soon to calm a Tempest with a song,  
As soften him.   Mas. 

Beasts and hard Rocks have both  
Been moved, and by his Countryman. Let's try.  
That we may some way, Sir, express our service  
Unto you, with intent you may not feel  
Bare honour only without the delights,  
We have provided you a taste, of our  
Best Persian Music.   Crat. 

That's an innocent pleasure;  
Spheres make it, and Gods hear it.   Prax. 
Boy come in.   

Act. 2.  
Sce. 3.  To them Two women and a boy, as he is preparing to sing, Atossa, Mandane, and Ariene appear above. Prax. 
YOur last new song, that which I gave you Sirrah.  Atos. 

See yonder where he sits; let's stand and see  
How he'll behave himself; the Lords have vowed  
To try him to the utmost.   Mand. 

I begin  
To fear that he is mortal.   Prax. 
Come begin  Boy sings. 

1  
Come my sweet, whiles every strain  
Calls our Souls into the Ear;  
Where they greedy listening fain  
Would turn into the sound they hear;  
Lest in desire  
To fill the Choir  
Themselves they tie  
To Harmony,  
Let's kiss and call them back again.   

2  
Now let's orderly convey  
Our Souls into each other's Breast,  
Where interchanged let them stay  
Slumbering in a melting rest.  
Then with new fire  
Let them retire,  
And still present  
Sweet fresh content  
Youthful as the early day.   

3  
Then let us a Tumult make,  
Shuffling so our souls, that we  
Careless who did give or take,  
May not know in whom they be.  
Then let each smother  
And stifle the other,  
Till we expire  
In gentle fire  
Scorning the forgetful Lake.   Crat. 

I did expect some solemn Hymn of the  
Great world's beginning, or some brave captain's  
Deserving deeds extolled in lofty numbers.  
These softer subjects grate our ears: But what  
Are these my Lords? she Minstrels?   Mas. 

Consequences,  
Which we out of that duty which we owe you  
Thought a fit present, that you might not want  
Any delight that Persia yields.   Crat. 

I have  
No humane thought about me now, forbear.   Prax. 

You are no Statue Sir? or if you were,  
These yet methinks might melt you.   Crat. 

If you will  
Needs put yourselves to th' trouble of Procurers,  
Bring me a Kingdom in one face, or show me  
A People in one body; than you might  
Happily work on mine Affections.  
There I durst pour myself into Embracements,  
Losing myself in a Labyrinth of joy.  
As 'tis you only make me colder, by  
Surrounding me with these your hostile flames.   Mas. 

I hope you do conceive it our Affection,  
And duty to your Sceptre.   Crat. 

Let me ask you.  
Was't not enough you tried me with those baits  
Of wines, and meats, culled from the spoil of Nature,  
But you must bring vice in another fashion?   Prax. 

Will you then let your days pass sluggishly,  
And reap no pleasure from your Power?   Crat. 

'Tis one  
To punish such offenders as yourselves,  
That will abase your honour to so vile  
And abject an employment. If you offer  
The like again, you shall perceive, that Kings,  
How short so e'er their Reigns be, have long hands.  
This Act, whate'er you style it, is flat Treason.  
Our Honour is abused in't. O the foreheads Prax. and Mas. steal out, and leave the two women with him.  
Of women once grown impudent! that these  
Can stand so long, and hear their infamy  
Debated quietly, expecting when  
They shall be called to their reproach! what fled?  
And left the Prey behind to tempt me? Ho!  
Who waits without? Convey these wicked creatures  
Unto the jailor Molops: give him charge  
To use them as he would do Enemies.  
My Country would twice suffer, should I yield  
Unto their vices too. But Greece is not  
Only preserved in me: had they perhaps  
Carried these Creatures to the wilder knot,  
Headlong Archippus, or bold Stratocles,  
Easy Leocrates, or prone Philotas,  
Their Present might have hit. But hark, they come.  
I'll step aside, and watch their actions.   Exit. Atos. 
What do you think Mandane? is he mortal?   

Act. 2.  
Sce. 4.  Philotas, Stratocles, Leocrates, Archippus, in rich Persian Habits. Str. 

HOw far do we outshine the Persian Court?  
See what good clothes can do. I think there are not  
four properer Gentlemen walk the streets.   Phil. 
The Ladies certainly must love us now.  Leoc. 
But are you sure they'll pass this way?  Arch. 

Yes, yes.  
Let's to our stations, and be ready to  
Accost'em at the first approach.   Atos. 

Mandane,  
Do you and Ariene step down to 'em,  
And try their Courtship.   Mand. 
All I think be safe.  Arie. 
Cratander is hard by; ne'er fear; let's down.  They descend Str. 

I wonder none pass by yet: sure they'll send  
Tickets unto us, to invite us to  
Their Lodgings the backway.   Arch. 

ne'er doubt it Man,  
They'll come themselves; for proof behold.   { Ent. Mand. Arie. Leocr. 

Half booty;  
Equal division Gentlemen.   Phil. 
Agreed, agreed.  Str. 
Agreed, agreed.  Arch. 
Agreed, agreed.  Phil. 
Nay, start not Ladies, we are men,  Arie. 

'Tis well  
You tell us so before hand, we might else  
Think you disguised satyrs, come on purpose  
To put the Nymphs to flight.   Leoc. 

We are not hairy;  
We have no Tails, I'm sure.   Arie. 

Truly if satyrs  
And you were in one Market-town, I think  
You might see one another for nothing.   Str. 

Do you  
Take us for Monsters then?   Mand. 

Pray heaven we don't  
Discover 'em in your Manners.   Arch. 

We are come  
Not to disturb, but heighten your delights.   Mand. 
Can you show any tricks then?  Arch. 
Love-tricks Lady.  Arie. 

Can you run through a Hoop? or fetch up money  
With your eyelids backward?   Mand. 

Can you pierce your Tongue,  
Or cut your Throat, and yet live after it?   Str. 
Do y'thinkthinke us Tumblers then, or Jugglers?  Mand. 

Both;  
And truly these would please us far above  
Your Love-tricks.   Leoc. 

Shall I draw some Ribbon then  
Out of my Throat? Shall I cast a Lock upon  
Your pretty cheeks, or seal your lovely lips  
Up?   Arie. 
What will content you when you have done?  Leoc. 
A kiss.  Mand. 
We do not use to grant such favours gratis.  Leoc. 
What will you take to give one then?  Mand. 
A Muffler.  Phil. 

I perceive you are well skilled  
In the whole course of Love, you but keep off  
To make delights more sweet.   Arie. 

You would do well  
To do so too.   Phil. 

Why Madam? do not fear me:  
I snore not in my sleep; this Nose of mine  
Will not proclaim.   Mand. 

'Tis something Trumpetlike;  
I would not trust myself with such an Instrument.  
Methinks 'tis somewhat guilty.   Phil. 

How I love  
This pretty, pettish, froward, wanton anger?  
Give me a Pleasure that I struggle for.  
That Favour's genuinely sweet, that's wrested.   Str. 

Fear him not Madam; I'll be your defence;  
My soul is linked and chained unto your Tongue.   Arie. 

You speak in a fit dialect; you relish  
O'th' Language of the place whence you came lately.  
But to be serious now awhile, pray speak,  
What do you see in us fit for desire?  
You cannot love us possibly.   Str. 
By this kiss.  Arie. 
Stand off.  Arch. 
And this.  Mand. 

Your Oath's not good in Law.  
Tell us, what wrong hath either of us done you,  
That you should seek thus to revenge yourselves?   Phil. 

You are too scornful, we too easy; come  
Let's hurry 'em to some place of secrecy,  
Where all their scoffing shan't prevail: you two  
Quickly seize her.   Arie. 
Help, help.  Mand. 
Help, help.   

Act. 2.  
Sce. 5.  As they carry out the Ladies, Cratander meets them. Crat. 

YE Villains hold.  
What is the matter? why this violence?   Leoc. 

A little Love-sport only; we were arguing  
Pro, and Con out of Plato, and are now  
Going to practise his Philosophy.   Arie. 

What they style Love-sport only, and misname  
An arguing out of Plato, would have proved  
A true and downright Rape, if that your presence  
Had not become our Rescue.   Crat. 

Wicked Villains,  
That in your miseries can't forget your vices,  
Acting those crimes today, which e'er the Sun  
Thrice set, will elsewhere be your Torture. Cannot  
The chain and hunger kill those seeds of evil,  
But even in the midst of your misfortunes,  
Your sports must be the robbing of fair honour,  
And Rapes your Recreations? which, an't please  
The Gods, you call Philosophy. Leave the place;  
Infection's busy where you breath; the next  
Attempt installs you in the Dungeon.   Ex. 4. Slaves. Mand. 

Most worthy Sir, your Nobleness hath shown  
A mind beyond your fortune: though it be not  
Real as we could wish it, yet believe it  
You hold a perfect Royalty in the hearts  
Of those, whose honours you have now preserved.   Crat. 

I owe this duty to your virtue's Madam. Ex. Mand. Arie.  
These Slaves must be repressed; the giddy People  
Are ready to transpose all crimes upon  
Him that should moderate them; so perhaps  
Their faults might be accounted mine. Besides  
Snares are laid close in every path for me;  
And if a King but stumble, 'tis a Precipice:  
When all eyes see't, a blemish is a Monster.  
Pure virtue then, and thou fair honour, give me  
Leave to contemplate on your Beauties; let As he is musing, Atos. from above throws him a gold coin.  
The strength of my Imagination dwell  
Upon the sight of your Divinities.  
What? more temptations yet? ha? whence? from whom?  
The heavens I hope don't drop down follies too:  
No arm out of the clouds! a chain? why this  
Is but an Exprobration of my late  
Distressed fortune. 'Tis rich yet, and Royal;  
I 'can't be the wealth of any, but the Throne.  
Fall out what will, I'll wear it, till I know  
From whence it came; and if it prove a Mettle  
That some foul drossy mind could not endure  
Should longer dwell with it, I then will cast it  
With as much scorn and anger from my shoulders,  
As now I do receive't with admiration.    

Act. 2.  
Sce. 6.  To him Hippias, Photion. Hip. 

Look, there he walks alone considering;  
Let's to him while we may; good day Craetander.   Crat. 

Good Hippias, Photion! you are welcome; how  
Dare you trust yourselves in an enemy's Court?   Pho. 

We pass disguised to see what will become  
Of our Affairs; and being the future state  
Of Ephesus depends on you, are come  
Only to give you notice of it, for  
We do presume you're not to be entreated  
To do us good.   Crat. 

Alas! I am not, after  
The period of three days; this makes the time  
Which even now I thought an age, seem short  
And too contract for my desires.   Pho. 

When you  
Should raise your Country struggling in the dust,  
The time is short, and too contract; 'tis long  
Enough to lead an Army out against it,  
To crush those Relics of an half-life, that  
Her doubtful body faintly breaths; you may  
With that right hand spin three days to the space  
Of many Olympiads.   Crat. 
What is your meaning?  Pho. 

Have we endured the hate, and felt the fury  
Of violent Arsamnes so long? have we  
Suffered his sword until it did grow blunt,  
And rather broke, then wounded? have you tried  
The weight and strictness of the Persian chain  
So long, and ask us now, what is your meaning?  
Come, come Cratander, I could chide you, but  
That I believe you only hide the good  
That you intend your Country, that it may not  
Be disappointed; you may safely tell us  
You will betray the Persians into our hands,  
That we may gather forces, and prepare  
Against their coming.   Crat. 

Oh! is this your Errant?  
Here, take your chain again, it cannot bind.   Hip. 

howe'er don't exprobrate our Poverty,  
Though all our wealth hath been the Persians spoil.   Crat. 

Why you threw't in before you, to make way  
Unto your Suit.   Hip. 

Is it not lawful to  
Salute the Persian Mock-King, think y', unless  
We bring a Gift? I'd thought the name of Ephesus  
Had privileged our access. Think on the honours,  
The long continuing honours, that you shall  
Receive at home; think on those numerous tears  
That you shall wipe away from flowing Eyes,  
At the first sight of Liberty.   Pho. 

Your approach  
Will entice Cities out of Houses; th' aged,  
And the young too; the Matron, and the Virgin,  
All mingled in a blessed confusion,  
Will in a solemn full Procession come,  
And with that great Religion bring you in,  
As if their Captive Gods were brought them back.  
Come then a King home, that went'st out a Slave.   Crat. 

I am so still; no sooner did I come  
Within the Persian Walls, but I was theirs.  
And since, good Hippias, this power hath only  
Added one link more to the Chain. I am  
Become Arsamnes Instrument: I've sworn  
Faith to his Sceptre and himself, and must  
Ask his leave, ere I do betray his Country.   Hip. 

You're free enough against us. O the justice  
Of an unnatural Son! yet ask yourself;  
Ought that be ratified that's done by force?   Crat. 
As if the valiant could be forced by any.  Pho. 

You shall not change your fortune, you shall only  
Pass to another Empire; and for that  
Right may be violated.   Crat. 

Empires are  
Desired for glory; be all wickedness then  
Far absent, for in that there can be none.   Pho. 

You are resolved to reason yourself then  
Into a measured unthankfulness? what can  
Hinder this good t'your Country, but yourself?  
Fear'st thou the Thunder, and the Gods? the anger  
O'th' Grecian Powers will be upon thee, if  
Thou not restor'st them to their seats. On then,  
Thou undertakest their cause, thou fightest their war.   Crat. 

I cannot tell what powers you pretend;  
Tell me of Justice and Fidelity,  
These are the Grecian Gods.   Pho. 

Be then thy name  
Blasted to all Posterity, and let  
Our wretched Nephews, when then Souls shall labour  
Under the Persian Yoke, curse thee, and say,  
This slavery we owe unto Cratander.   Crat. 

Pray stay, I will go with you, and consider,  
How am I straightened! Life is short unto me:  
And th' good man's End ought still to be a business.  
We must die doing something, lest perhaps  
We lose our Deaths; we must not yet do ill  
That we misplace not Action: If I strike  
On this hand, I'm a Parricide; if on that,  
The same brand waits me too: how do I tremble,  
Like to the doubtful Needle twixt two Loadstones,  
At once inclining unto both, and neither!  
Here Piety calls me, there my Justice stops me.  
It is resolved; Faith shall consist with both;  
And aged Fame after my Death shall tell,  
Betwixt two sins, Cratander did do well.   Exeunt:  
Finis Act. 2.   

Act. 3.  

Sce. 1.  Philotas, Stratocles, Archippus, Leocrates, Molops, in drinking Chaplets, after the Grecian manner. Phil. 

SEt a watch at the door, to keep out sleep;  
He's mortal that offers to betray so much weakness  
As to wink. Here Archippus.   Arch. 

May not a man wink without mortality,  
When he lets it go down? Here Stratocles.   Phil. 
I do state winking in that case divine.  Str. 
Come thou uneven lump, thou heap of sins in proof; we will liquour thy Keys, open thy Cages, and give thy meager Tenants a Play day, Rascal. Bring the Jars nearer. As I hope for fortune, I think my soul will pass into a frog. Now for a hundred Throats; to thee Molops.  Mol. 
You Grecians I think have sponges in your maws; 'tis but setting your hands to your sides, and squeezing yourselves and presently you drink as much as before.  Leoc. 
Off with thy Cup Landlord, and talk not; we learned it from the Teat, fool.  Mol. 
Have at thee, Archippus.  Arch. 
I do not like these healths at random; let's have a sober methodical order for a while.  Thil. 
What? shall we drink by dice then, and let fortune name the heir to the Cup?  Str. 
Or shall we drink our Mistresses names, and soak it Alphabetically?  Leoc. 
If we drink names, let not the Letters pass for single ones, but as they would in number: I do pronounce Alpha no letter till it begin to multiply.  Mol. 
I never thought Drinking such a Mystery before; a blockhead can't be drunk, I see.  Phil. 
Right; shallow brains can ne'er attain to't; that makes your fools, and your old governing Philosophers continue so sober still. The veget Artist, and the vigorous Poet, whose brains are full and forging still, will straight get a pleasant madness from that that will but warm those colder Rheumatic Sages, whose noses always drop like still-snouts.  Str. 
The noblest drinking methinks is the Postures.  Arch. 
Let's have'em  Phil. 
Bring the Pots in play. But where's the wenches, and the Music you promised us, good Molops.  Mol. 
For wenches, the Town will not yield any at this time; and I durst not venture my single wife amongst you all. For Fiddlers, I have provided them, they stand ready without.  Leoc. 
Call 'em in sweet Molops.  Strat. 
Well, what shall those Rascals play, whiles we drink the Postures?  Phil. 
The Battle by all means.  Ent. Mus. Str. 
Strike up the Battle then. Think yourselves all in service now, and do as I do.  

Take your Bows Gent: and make a stand. They take their pots in their left hands. They take their cups in their right hands, & fill. They blow off the froth.  
Right! draw your shafts now, & knock 'em.  
Very good! now smooth your feathers.  
Well done! Present, and take aim.  
Here's to thee Leocrates.   Leoc. 
Have towards thee Philotas.  Phil. 
To thee Archippus.  Arch. 
Here Molops.  Mol. 
Have at you Fiddlers.  Str. 
Now draw your Bows and let loose all.  They drink all together. Mol. 
The other charge, good fellow Soldiers.  Phil. 
Let's have a Song between, and then have at you  Leoc. 
fiddlers, employ your Throats and sing a while; you shall drink with 'em after.  Str. 
Sing that which I made in the Prison; 'tis seasonable enough.  

Song.  

1.  
Now, now, the Sun is fled  
Down into Tethys' bed,  
Ceasing his solemn course awhile.   

2.  
What then?  
'Tis not to sleep, but be  
Merry all night, as we;  
Gods can be mad sometimes, as well as men.   

Cho.  
Then laugh we, and quaff we, until our rich nose:  
Grow red, and contest with our Chaplets of Roses.   

1.  
If he be fled, whence may  
We have a second day,  
That shall not set till we command?   

2.  
Here see  
A Day that does arise  
Like his, but with more eyes,  
And warms us with a better fire, than he.   

Cho.  
Then laugh we, &c.   

1. 2.  
Thus then we chase the night  
With these true floods of light,  
This Lesbian wine, which with its sparkling streams,  
Darting diviner Graces,  
Cast's Glories round our Faces,  
And dulls the Tapers with Majestic Beams.   

Cho.  
Then laugh we, &c.    Str. 
Well said! now the other charge to the honour of Cratander.  Phil. 
I feel a rumbling in my head, as if the Cyclops were forging Thunder in my Brains: But no matter, give it me: our ancient Orpheus says it, Perpetual drunkenness is the reward of Virtue.   

Act. 3.  
Sce. 2.  To them Cratander. Crat. 

Which the most vicious have: must I still meet  
Some thing must grieve me more than your misfortunes?  
The Chain and Fetter were your Innocence.   Phil. 

We don't fire Temple's Sir: we kill no Father  
Nor Mother, 'tis not Incest to be merry.   Crat. 

But to be drunk is all. Do but consider,  
(If that at least you can) how Greece itself  
Now suffers in you; thus, say they, the Grecians  
Do spend their Nights: Your vices are esteemed  
The Rites and Customs of your Country, whiles  
The beastly Revelling of a Slave or two,  
Is made the nation's Infamy. Your wreathes  
Blush at your Ignominy: what praise is't  
When't shall be said, Philotas stood up still  
After the hundreth Flagon; when 'tis known  
He did not so in war? you're now just fit  
To reach the Spartan boys sobriety;  
Are all good Principles washed out? howe'er  
Be without vices, if not virtuous.  
That I should have authority to command  
Vices but not forbid 'em! I would put you  
Once more into his charge, but that you would  
Make even the Dungeon yet more infamous.   Mol. 

Gentlemen hear me; Cratander Ex. Crat.  
Speaks well, and like a good commonwealthsman.   Arch. 
Out you dissembling Rascal; are you of Cratander's faction.  Mol. 
Good Gentlemen don't kick me: I shall leave all my drink behind me, if you do.  Ex. Mol. Phil. 

Must we still thus be checked? we live not under  
A King, but a Pedagogue: he's insufferable   Leoc 
Troth he's so proud now he must be killed to make a supper for the immortal Cannibals, that there's no Ho with him.  Arch. 
I never thought he would have been either so womanish, as to have been chaste himself, or so uncivil as to keep us so: but he talks of lying with surprised Cities, and committing Fornication with Victory, and making Mars Pimp for him.  Str. 
These are the fruits of Learning; we suffer all this merely because he hath a little familiarity with the Devil in Philosophy, and can conjure with a few Notions out of Socrates.  Arch. 
In good troth I take it very scurvily at his hands, that he will not let me deserve hanging. I'd thought to have done all the villainies in the world, and left a name behind me: but he's severe forsooth, and cries out Virtue, Mistress Virtue.  Phil. 
Diseases take her; I ne'er knew any good she did in Commonwealth yet. I wonder how he dares be so impudent, as to be good in a strange place.  

Did not you mark his Rhetoric cast at me?  
I was the But the shot at.— What praise if't,  
When't shall be said Philotas stood up still  
After the hundreth Flagon, when 'tis known  
He did not so in war?— mere, mere upbraiding:  
And shall Philotas this? this from Cratander?    

Act. 3.  
Sce. 3.  To them Praxaspes, Masistes. Prax. 

Whence this deep silence? are you sacrificing  
To your dumb Gods of Greece? where are your Caps?  
Your Loves, your Madness?   Leoc. 

Do not Ravish me;  
I will cry out a Rape, if that you come  
Within twelve foot of me; we must be modest.  
Modest an't please the Gods.   Mas. 

Fie! fie! We looked, you should  
Have left at least a dozen of great bellies  
A piece behind you upon every Tribe.  
Where are your Spirits? had I been in your case,  
Nature ere this had been inverted. But  
You think on your last end, as if the world  
Were to expire with you.   Str. 

O! we must walk  
Discreetly, look as carefully to our steps,  
As if we were to dance on ropes, with Eggs  
Under our feet: we have left off shackles,  
To be worse fettered.   Prax. 

Can a breast of large  
And ample thoughts tamely endure the ring?  
And be led quietly by th'Patient Nose,  
When Licence is Religion? One whose dull  
And sluggish temper is called wisdom, one  
Whose indiscretion killed with some formality,  
As Quicksilver with fasting spital, doth pass  
For a grave governing Garb This heavy lump  
Dulls all your active fire.   Mas. 

You understand not:  
For to what end is Liberty indulged?  
To be oppressed by a severer Rule?  
One newly taken from among yourselves,  
To make your state worse by his Tyranny?  
But you show what you can endure.   Phil. 

By Heaven  
We do enslave ourselves; We can b'as free  
As is Cratander, though not so malicious.   Mas. 

You are as things of nought with him; for tell me;  
When called he Stratocles to Council? when  
Asked he Leocrates his advice? Philotas,  
Archippus, names excluded from his thoughts,  
But when he means to show that he hath anger.   Phil. 
What Star wert thou borne under Stratocles?  Str. 

That which all Governors of Market-towns are,  
Some lazy Planet, I believe.   Phil. 

Thou wert wont  
To exercise upon a throat or two,  
To keep thy hand in ure; now show thyself:  
Let's slit this graver weasand.   Prax. 

Now I see  
You have some man about you, now your bloods  
Run as they should do, high and full; you slept  
Merely till now. If that Cratander should  
Quit scores with Nature e'er his time be out,  
The King must choose again; the dead you know  
ne'er goes for Sacrifice.   Leoc. 

Must one of us  
Piece up his Reign then?   Prax. 

There's no other way;  
The Gods themselves require't.   Leoc. 

My Haunches quake,  
As if that Molops were to season them,  
And put 'em straight in past for the great Gods   Phil. 

whoe'er  
Succeeds him. shall allow the rest whate'er  
Nature or Art can yield. Nothing shall be  
Unlawful, but to sleep and mumble Prayers.   Arch. 
Agreed, agreed.  Cratander is discovered overhearing them. Strat. 
Agreed, agreed.  Leoc. 
Agreed, agreed.  Phil. 

Then fill me out an Oath.  
All I presume will bind themselves with this  
Good common looser of all cares, but what  
Do tend to Liberty to do the like.   Str. 
The motion's worthy; crown the Goblet then.  Phil. 

Would 'tbe his blood. By Truth herself th'offspring  
And child of Wine, Cratander dies e'er half  
The glass of his short Tyranny run out.  
This then to the infernal Gods. powers some on the ground  
& this  
To our just angers, Gods as great as they. he drinks.  
Good Omen! so! the thickned streams run black;  
'Twas blood methought I drank: 'twere Laziness  
To say, he shall be dead; he's dead already.  
Drink and prepare for Pleasures.   They all drink. Omnes. 
Liberty.  Exeunt.  

Act. 3.  
Sce. 4.  Cratander, Atossa. Crat. 

HE must be more than Man that gains it back  
Without my will.   Atos. 

Your Justice must restore it.  
Will your severer Majesty triumph,  
With soft spoils of a Lady's Cabinet?   Crat. 

As I would not feign Favour, and belie  
A Jewel or a Twist, to gain the name  
Of Creature, or of Servant unto any;  
So by your Beauty, (for if Persians may  
Swear by their Sun, I well may swear by that)  
Where honour is transmitted in a true  
Mysterious Gage of an Immaculate mind,  
I will defend it as some sacred Relic,  
Or some more secret pledge, dropped down from Heaven,  
To guard me from the dangers of the Earth.   Atos. 

But in that  
You make it common, you bereave it of  
All that you call Divinity.   Crat. 

He that vaunts  
Of a received Favour, aught to be  
Punished as Sacrilegious Persons are,  
'Cause he doth violate that sacred thing,  
Pure, spotless Honour. But it may be seen,  
And yet not prostitute. I would not smother  
My Joys, and make my happiness a stealth.   Atos. 

How your thoughts flatter your deceived Fancy  
Into a State, that when you leave to think,  
Dies, as your thoughts that kept it up! what is't  
That you call joy and happiness?   Crat. 

I must  
Confess, I have no Merits, whose just heat  
May extract aught from you, called Love: yet when  
I do consider, that Affection  
Cannot look virtuously on any thing  
That is resplendent, but a subtle image  
Purely reflecting thence, must needs arise,  
And pay that Look again; I do take leave  
To say, the careful Deities provide,  
That Love shall ne'er be so unhappy, as  
To want his Brother.   Atos. 

Why? I never spent  
A sigh for you; you never had a kiss,  
Nor the reversion of one yet.   Crat. 

Such Love  
Is but Love's Idol; and these soft ones, that  
Confine it to a kiss, or an embrace,  
Do, as the superstitious did of old,  
Contract the Godhead into a Bull, or Goat,  
Or some such lustful Creature. Be it far,  
Be't far from me to think, where'er I see  
Clear streams of Beauty, that I may presume  
To trouble them with quenching of my thirst.  
Where a full splendour, where a bright effusion  
Of immaterial Beams do meet to  
Make up one Body of perfection;  
I should account myself injurious  
Unto that Deity, which hath let down  
Himself into those Rays, if that I should  
Draw nigh without an awful Adoration.  
Which my Religion pays to you: but being  
You like not the Devotion, be content  
To slight the Sacrifice, but spare the Altar.   Atos. 

I am so far from ruining that Breast  
In which there lives a spark of chaster honour,  
That I would hazard this so prized a trifle,  
Which men call Life, that I might live there still;  
And prove that Love is but an Engine of  
The careful Powers, invented for the safety  
And preservation of afflicted goodness.  
Conceive not hence a passion burning toward you.  
For she that speaks like woman, is a Queen.   Crat. 

I can distinguish betwixt Love, and Love,  
'tween Flames and good Intents, nay between Flames  
And Flames themselves: the grosser now fly up,  
And now fall down again, still coveting new  
Matter for food; consuming, and consumed.  
But the pure clearer Flames, that shoot up always  
In one continued Pyramid of lustre,  
Know no commerce with Earth, but unmixed still,  
And still aspiring upwards, (if that may  
Be called aspiring, which is Nature) have  
This property of Immortality  
Still to suffice themselves, neither devouring,  
And yet devoured; and such I knowledge yours.  
On which I look as on refined Ideas,  
That know no mixture or corruption,  
Being one eternal simpleness; that these  
Should from the Circle of their chaster Glories  
Dart out a beam on me, is far beyond  
All humane merit; and I may conclude,  
They've only their own Nature for a cause,  
And that they're good, they are diffusive too.   Atos. 

Your tongue hath spoke your thoughts so nobly that  
I bear a pity to your virtues, which  
ere night shed Poppy twice o'er th'wearied world,  
Must only be in these two Registers;  
Annals, and Memory. Could you but contrive,  
How you might live without an injury  
Unto Religion, you should have this glory.  
To have a Queen your Instrument.   Crat. 

There's nothing  
Can woo my heart unto a thought of life,  
But that your presence will be wanting to me,  
When I'm shut up in silence: yet I have  
A strong Ambition in me to maintain  
An equal faith twixt Greece and Persia:  
That like a river running twixt two fields,  
I may give growth and verdure unto both.  
Praxaspes, and Masistes, potent Lords,  
Are both 'gainst my designs; so that I shall not  
Obtain an Army; for they think I have  
That vile mind in me to betray this Kingdom,  
To which I've sworn fidelity; when by  
yourself, by all that's good, my intent is only  
To perfect great Arsamnes Conquest, and  
In that be beneficial to my Country.  
In which if that your Majesty will descend  
To act a part, after the Scene is shut,  
I'll down t' Elysium with a joyful mind,  
And teach our Grecian Poets your blessed name  
And virtues, for an everlasting Song.   Atos. 

Were it against myself, I'd not deny it.  
Walk in, I'll follow you. In great designs. Ex. Crat.  
Valour helps much, but virtuous Love doth more.    

Act. 3.  
Sce. 5.  To her Arsamnes. Arsam. 

WAs't not enough that you perused his Actions,  
And surfeited your Eyes upon his follies,  
Seeing, and seen again, but you must cast him  
A Chain, an Emblematic Chain?   Atos. 

'Tis not  
The veil that hinders the quick busy Eye  
From reading o'er the Face, but Modesty.  
He hath a weak defence, that doth entrust  
The preservation of a chaster Love  
Unto a silken Cloud.   Arsam. 

I stand not much  
Upon the commerce of your Eyes, but 'tis  
Your Chain.— Your Favour— that—. doye think 'tis fit  
A Queen should send one link unto a Slave?   Atos. 

Doth not the Sun (the Sun, which yet you worship)  
Send beams to others than yourself? yet those  
Which dwell on you lose neither light, nor heat,  
Coming not thence less vigorous, or less chaste.  
Would you seal up a Fountain? or confine  
The Air unto your walk? would you enjoin  
The Flower to cast no smell, but as you pass?  
Love is as free as Fountain, Air, or Flower.  
For't stands not in a point; 'tis large, and may,  
Like streams, give verdure to this Plant, that Tree,  
Nay that whole field of Flowers, and yet still run  
In a most faithful course toward the bosom  
Of the loved Ocean.   Arsam. 

But when you divert  
And break the Stream into small Rivulets,  
You make it run more weak, then when it kept  
United in one Channel.   Atos. 

If it branch  
Into a smaller twining here, and there,  
The water is not lost, nor doth it quit  
The former Name; this is not to destroy,  
But to enlarge the stream: did it dry up,  
And leave the Fountain destitute, indeed  
You'd reason to be angry.   Arsam. 

But what should make you  
Present him with a gift? you might have smothered  
A good opinion of him in your Breast,  
(As some digressing streams flow under ground)  
And so have rested; but you show it now,  
And make the world partaker.   Atos. 

Who would stifle  
An honest Fire? that flame's to be suspected  
That hides itself. When that a man of valour  
Graceth his Country with a good attempt,  
You give a Sword, an Horse, a Manor, nay  
Sometimes a whole Province for reward. We have  
A sense of Virtue too, as well as you:  
And shall we be denied the Liberty  
To show we have that sense? A Favour is  
The Alms of Love; I do not pass away  
My heart in Charity. Virtuous Cratander  
Shows forth so full a Transcript of your life,  
In all but his misfortunes, that methinks  
You may admire yourself in him, as in  
Your shade. But yet let chaste Atossa rather  
Not be at all, than not be wholly yours.   Arsam. 

Thou art still virtuous my Atossa, still  
Transparent as thy Crystal, but more spotless.  
fools that we are, to think the Eye of Love  
Must always look on us. The Vine that climbs  
By conjugal Embracements 'bout the Elm,  
May with a ring or two perhaps encircle  
Some neighbouring bough, and yet this twining prove.  
Not the Offence, but Charity of Love.   Exeunt.  
Finis Act. 3.   

Act. 4.  

Sce. 1.  Atossa, Mandane, Ariene, other Ladies, and Women of divers sorts. Atos. 

THat we have naturally a desire  
To preserve Honour is a Principle  
Not questionable, but by those that would  
Corrupt, and rob us of it: that you prize  
Your Chastity more than wealth, and think your Cabinets  
Cheap and unworthy, if compared t'your minds,  
I'm so assured, that I need only tell you  
The danger, not entreat you to avoid it.  
The Slaves next night intend a Rape upon  
Your Honour, and your Wealth; to tell your Husbands  
Were to procure a slaughter on both sides.  
If we avert the riot, and become  
Our own defence, the Honour, as the Action,  
Will be entirely ours: which may be done  
Only by flying to Arsamnes Castle.  
A thing so easy, that 'twill only be  
To take the Air for fame: and when we do  
Return, our Husbands shall strew praises in  
Our ways, which we will tread on, and contemn.   Omnes. 
Let's fly, let's fly, let's fly.  Atos. 

How I do love  
These worthy, noble thoughts! the Action  
Will make our Tombs not need an Epitaph,  
When we shall live still fresh in History.  
The sacred Gods of Marriage will present  
Themselves unto you night by night for this,  
And personally thank you in your Dreams,  
For thus preserving their Rites undefiled.  
But time is short, I must away, to make  
Provision for our flight. If any do  
Desire a further satisfaction  
In this our grand design, we leave our lady's  
Mandane here, and Ariene, who  
Can give a full relation of our business.   Omn. 
Away, away, to the Castle, to the Castle.  Exeunt.  

Act. 4.  
Sce. 2.  Cratander, Hippias, Photion. Crat. 

Urge me no more, I am sure my Country  
Requires not Perjury.   Pho. 

Ought any word  
Be kept with Enemies? no path is foul  
That leads to liberty.   Crat. 

O Photion!  
Such men as you have made our Grecian faith  
Become a Proverb t' express Treachery.  
An Oath's the same in Persia, and in Greece:  
And binds alike in either.   Hip. 

But consider  
we're thralled and yoked; the hard gains of our sweat  
Must be sent in to serve their Luxury.  
Tribute, and tax, and payment, will still keep us  
As in a siege: to take the Air perhaps  
Will be a charge unto us.   Pho. 

Nor is't Ephesus  
That only dreads this slavery; Claros too,  
And Colophon, nay Magnesia, and others  
That joined i'th' war do fear a share i'th' Tyranny.   Crat. 

Your forces are so weakened, that you cannot  
Regain a perfect Liberty: your Friends  
Begin to fall off too: all that you can  
Expect now, is to settle these your evils,  
And live protected as a weakened friend  
Under the Persian shelter: still preserving  
Your Laws and Liberties inviolate.  
A thing perhaps yet rather to be wished for,  
Then compassed.   Hip. 

Yet methinks you might procure it,  
Having such command.   Crat. 

What may be done in so  
Short space, shall all be to your good: go then  
And deal discreetly with the Army: tell them  
The tempest that is falling on their head,  
Unless the Persian shield them. When you have  
Persuaded them to this, conduct your Forces  
Towards Arsamnes Castle, where the Queen,  
And Ladies now expect me. But be sure  
You come not within sight of Sardis.   Pho. 

Why?  
Shall we not march beyond the Frontiers then?   Crat. 

By no means, for you'll cut off all retreat,  
Now, when you see the numerous Persian come,  
You may securely fly without the loss  
Of any; this will quell the future rising  
Of those, whose frowardness is not content  
Either with th'calm or Tempest of Affairs.  
We must comply with Fortune, now we're conquered,  
Permit the rest unto the Gods and me.   Pho. Hip. 
Success attend it.  Ex. Hip. Pho. Crat. 

So; my next care now  
Must be t' avoid those Slaves, who, I o'erheard,  
Have a design upon my life. But let  
Even the plotting Destinies contrive,  
And be themselves of Council, all their malice  
Shall only show an idle fruitless Hate,  
Whiles Wisdom takes the upper hand of Fate.   Exit Cratander.  

Act. 4.  
Sce. 3.  4th Appearance, a Wood. Leocrates, Archippus, after a while Philotas, and Stratocles, all four disguised in beggars habits; one having a leg, another an arm tied up: all some counterfeiting trick of such manding people. Leocrates and Archippus peep out of the wood's side at several places. Leoc. 
HOlla!  Arch. 
Holla!  Leoc. 
Archippus?  Arch. 
Leocrates? ne'er be afraid man, 'tis I, the very same.  Leoc. 
'Fore Mercury I did not know thee: thy coming forth out of the wood with that raw arm, and those tottered clothes, makes thee show like Actaeon, newly revived after his worrying.  Arch. 
Where's Stratocles, and Philotas?  Leoc. 
They're looking Burr-leaves perhaps for Excoriation; or else robbing some Gibbet to accommodate themselves with decent weeds.  Phil. 
Holla!  Stra. 
Holla!  Arch. 
Hark: I hear 'em; they are hard by; let's answer 'em. Holla!  Stra. 
O are you there?  Leoc. 
Save thee Brother Stratocles: Joy to thee Valiant Philotas; I commend you that you keep your words: I'm glad we are so punctual.  Stra. 
D'ye think we have no Religion in us? 'tis a most corrupt time, when such as we cannot keep touch, and be faithful one to another.  Leoc. 
But are you sure Cratander will pass by this way?  Arch. 
My Lord Praxaspes says he loves this walk.  Str. 
But we've done ill to leave our weapons yonder.  Leoc. 
Pish! he won't pass by this hour, he's busy yet: we'll fetch 'em as soon as we can agree who shall do the deed.  Phil. 
Who shall do the deed sayst thou? why thou, or he, or he, or I.  Leoc. 
Do thou then if thou hast a mind to't.  Phil. 
No faith, thou shalt have the whole honour of it to thyself; I will not rob thee of an inch of it: I am not envious, Leocrates, not envious.  Leoc. 
Well; the next Passenger is to decide it then; he that shall be judged the fittest to make a Persian Priest, must do the deed.  Str. 
What else? dost thou think we will be so base, as not to stand to Covenants?  Phil. 
You have all made yourselves very unfit to be Priests methinks.  Str. 
Why so Philotas? do you not see wooden legs, and Crutches, wry Necks, and lame Arms, maimed limbs, and blind sides?  Phil. 
Good faith, we may be all taken for an Hospital broke loose.  Arch. 
And we have wood enough among us to—.  Cratan is discovered walking toward them. 
As I hope for Mercy Cratander.— by the ball of Fortune here he comes: Soul of my life what shall we do?  Str. 
Not a sword, not a knife among us! all left behind us in the wood! that we should be all manacled now, out of a most unluckily Policy! We shall never have him alone again: make toward him and be hanged, that he may resolve the Question howe'er.   

Act. 4.  
Sce. 4.  To them Cratander. Leoc. 
bless thy senses and thy limbs, fair Master: do a courtesy to a company of poor distressed Persians; 'tis not money we ask, nor clothes; only thy Judgement, thy Judgement, man of Understanding.  Crat. 
What's your request?  Leoc. 
That out of thy great Wisdom, soul of Learning, Thou'dst be pleased to tell us freely, which of us four is fittest to make a Persian Priest.  Crat 

I am not well skilled in your Persian Rites, As Cra. views them narrowly, they fall to their Postures  
I know not what Man, or how qualified  
Your Temple may admit of, but I have  
Two or three Servants within call here, they  
Shall umpire this your variance. Ho! Sisarmes,  
Ho! Artobazes, draw nigh quickly; seize Ent. Servants.  
These four pernicious Rascals: did you think  
You could lie hid? 'tis not your leg good Stratocles,  
Nor your close arm Leocrates, that can  
Disguise you from mine eye. I can tell you  
Who drank my death, who were your grand Abettors.  
In this design. You now would know who's fittest  
To make a Persian Priest: Malicious fools,  
Is it not all one as to ask me, who  
Is fitt'st to Sacrifice me? But you see  
I live, and will do, to your Punishment.  
Go, away with 'em; take them as they are.  
Let 'em not alter either Clothes, or Posture,  
But lead 'em through the City thus to Molops;  
And give him charge to keep 'em so, until  
He hear our farther Pleasure.   Ex. Crat. Serv. 

Come along, Gentlemen, we'll try your stumps,  
How many miles a day you can halt.   Str. 
Sirrah, be civil, or else before jove I'll pull off my wooden leg, and break your Pate with it, though I die for it.  Ex. Serv. and Slaves  

Act. 4.  
Sce. 5.  Hydarnes, Orontes, Praxaspes, Masistes. Hyd. 
we're like to have an honest Court of 't shortly.  Prax. 
You speak my Lord, as if 'twere not so now.  Hyd. 

'tis honest now, and shortly will not have  
The Power to be otherwise.   Mas. 
Why Hydarnes?  Hyd. 

There's not a woman left man; all are vanished,  
And fled upon the sudden.   Hyd. 

What? I hope  
They have not changed their Sex all in a minute?  
They are not leapt into rough chins, and Tulipants?   Hyd. 
There's scarce a face without a beard appears.  Mas. 
A sign there are few Eunuchs in the Palace.  Hyd. 

My Lords,  
This is not to discover what's become of 'em.  
They've taken weapons with 'em too they say.   Prax. 

They have no Sacrifice to perform, that I  
Can tell of, neither if they had, would they  
Take arms, that were t'invade the Deity.  
The Sword's no Instrument of their Devotion.   To them a Messenger. Mess. 

My Lords, you must make haste with all your forces  
To th'queen and Ladies in Arsamnes Castle:  
They now are likely all to be surprised,  
By the remainder of the Greeks.   Prax. 

Cratander,  
That damned Villain hath enticed 'em thither  
Merely t' entrap 'em. Let us to the King;  
we'll on although against revolted Slaves  
We fought with Men before, but now with Vice;  
He calls for death that must be conquered twice.   Exeunt.  
Finis Act. 4.   

Act. 5.  

Sce. 1.  5th Appearance, A Castle. Atossa, Mandane, Ariene, with divers other women in warlike habits, discovered on the Castle walls, with Cratander fully seated in the midst. Crat. 

MOst virtuous Queen, you make me search myself,  
To find the worth which you do so far prize;  
As thus to hazard for one man, whose life  
Is under value, that which others would not  
For a whole Kingdom, Reputation.   Atos. 

Where Goodness is to suffer, I would willingly  
Become the Sacrifice myself to free it.   Crat. 

Had great Arsamnes been in danger, had  
Your whole Line been in jeopardy of ruin,  
You could have done no more; Your pity hath  
Thrust you into Heroic Actions, far  
Beyond the eager Valour of tried Captains;  
Which I can never worthily admire,  
When I consider your reward will only  
Be, to be ranked in story with a Slave.   Atos. 

I do't not to the Man, but to the Virtue.  
The deed's reward enough unto itself.   Crat. 

'Twould be a piece of exemplary Ingratitude,  
To bring you into any danger hence:  
You're safe as in your Court; your Subjects shall not  
Run any doubtful hazard, in the Chance  
Of an uncertain Battle: their first step  
Shall be Victorious: and when your Eloquence,  
Guarded with Beauty, shall procure the freedom  
Of our Enthralled City, the Ephesians  
Shall know a Goddess greater than their own,  
And you depose our magnified Diana;  
Having Shrines in every Breast outshining hers.  
As for myself, I shall live still in those  
Good benefits my Country shall receive.  
This day instating me in Immortality:  
While raising thus our City by my fall,  
I shall go down a welcome shade, and dwell  
Among the Ancient Fathers of my Country.   Atos. 

Leave the Conditions to me: but peace;  
Expect me quietly a while, they come.    

Act. 5.  
Sce. 2.  To them below Arsamnes, Hydarnes, Orontes, Praxaspes, Masistes, and others in warlike habits. Prax. 

CAn you contain Sir? look how proudly he  
Sits in the midst, hemmed in on every side  
With Beauties, which his wheeling eye runs o'er  
All in a Minute.   Mas. 

Here's a delicacy  
That ne'er was practised by a Captive yet,  
Nor heard of since the Custom first began,  
That Conquered Slaves should personate their King,   Arsam. 

The Luxury and Riot of armed Love!  
O that mine eyes could dart forth piercing Lightning!  
That I could shoot some quick invisible Plague  
Into his boiling marrow. He is seated  
So, that a Dart or Arrow cannot reach him,  
Without the danger of a Persian breast,  
Worth all his Nation. But why name I worth,  
Where I see so much Infamy? O Atossa!  
Is this your amity to Virtue? this  
The Pity that you lend afflicted goodness?  
There's work enough now for my sword, although  
The Enemy approach not. Credulous woman,  
Descend, Arsamnes calls thee; if he be  
A Name regarded when Cratander's by.   Atos. 

Most virtuous Sir, you may expect perhaps  
Atossa's breast grown strange, and wrested from  
Her wonted faith; but witness O thou Sun,  
Whom with a pious eye I now behold,  
That I have neither tried t'untie, or loosen  
That sacred knot: but what I've condescended  
To aid thus far, is only a fair likeness  
Of something that I love in you.   Arsam. 

If then  
Your Loyalty be still entire to me,  
Show it, and yield Cratander up to us.   Atos. 

As his designs are honourable, so  
Are our intents, with which there needs must stand  
A resoluteness: it cannot be Virtue,  
unless't be constant too. Th' approach o'th' Enemy  
Forbids me to say more: On to your Victory,  
Your wonted art to Conquer; they're the Relics  
Of a few scattered troops, the fragments of  
The last meal that your swords made; on, and when  
You have subdued them wholly, we will plant  
Fresh bays upon your brows, and seal unto you  
A peace, as everlasting as our Loves.   Sould. 
within. Arm, arm, arm, arm.  Ex. Arsam. Lords, &c. as to the Battle. Omn. 
Mithra and Victory.  Atos. 

Let us be resolute now my Ladies, and  
At their return show them that they have something  
Left yet to Conquer; Breasts, that are not shaken  
With their loud noise of Trumpets. See, they're coming  
This was a Race, no Battle; Let's prepare.    

Act. 5.  
Sce. 3.  To them below Arsamnes, &c. as from the Chase. Arsam. 

WHat? fly upon the sight of us? t'o'appear  
Was here to overcome, a look hath done  
The business of the sword; your fears may sleep  
Securely now; Open the Castle gates.   Atos. 
But you must grant us some Conditions first.  Arsam. 

Must we be Articled with by our women?  
What is't an't please the Gods, that you require?   Atos. 
Cratander's life.  Crat. 

It is not in your Power  
To grant it great Arsamnes: your Queen speaks  
Out of a tender pity to no purpose.   Atos. 

Hear me Arsamnes: whom the raging sword  
Hath spared, why should the peaceable destroy?  
All hate's not ended in the field, I see:  
There's something still more cruel after war.   Arsam. 

Alas! you know not what you ask; the Gods  
Permit not that he live; he falls to them.   Crat. 

You must not hear her, Sir, against the Gods,  
Who now expect their solemn Feast and Banquet.   Atos. 

If they are Gods, pity's a Banquet to 'em.  
whene'er the Innocent and Virtuous  
Doth escape death, then is their Festival.  
Nectar ne'er flows more largely, then when blood's  
Not spilled, that should be saved. Do y'thinkthinke the smoke  
Of humane entrails is a steam that can  
Delight the Deities? whoe'er did burn,  
The Building to the honour of the Architect?  
Or break the Tablet in the painter's praise?  
'Tis Mercy is the Sacrifice they like.   Crat. 

Let not Affection call a Curse upon you,  
While you permit it to take place of your  
Religion.   Arsam. 

See, he will not live Atossa;  
To do the unwilling man a courtesy  
Is but a specious Tyranny.   Atos. 

Alas!  
He would be near the Gods, he would leave us.  
You must not, shall not kill him, my Arsamnes.  
Speak Ariene, call to him Mandane.   Arie. 

You owe him, Sir, the honour of your Court;  
Slaves had defiled our Husbands beds, and we  
Brought forth a Race of unlike Children, to  
Blemish your Realm, and us; when now by him  
we're all preserved immaculate and spotless,  
As tender Votaries.   Mand. 

Consider next,  
No heated rage hath snatched a sacred Goblet  
From any Altar, to profane it with  
The streams of bold intemperance; no cries  
Of Virgins came unto your Ears; you've lived  
This while as safe, as if you had been guarded  
By the revengeful Thunder.   Arsam. 

I may not  
Afflict him with a Curtsy; it can't be  
A Gift, that he must be compelled to take.   Crat. 

'Tis the best time to fall, when there are most  
Requests made for our preservation.  
Though, great Atossa, I could wish that your  
Blessed Prayers were spent in gaining a good peace  
For hopeful Ephesus. The Gods that do  
Require my ruin, would accept their safety.   Arsam. 
He durst not be so bold, unless he werewere Innocent.  Atos. 

Will you be so ungrateful then, Cratander,  
As after all to cast away yourself?  
Forbid him good Arsamnes, by these Tears  
I ask you:— but I am too womanish.   Oron. 

Your Majesty is not Rock: you had a Nurse  
That was no Tiger; look but up upon her.   Hyd. 

Can you deny aught, when the Soul is poured  
Out at the eyes in a Petition?   Arsam. 
Cratander, live; we do command thee, Live.  Crat. 

Bear witness o ye Gods, that I do suffer  
This as his Servant too. And ye the Souls  
Of my deceased Countrymen, who fell  
in the last Battle, if there yet be sense  
In the forgetful Urn, know that it was  
No stratagem of mine to be detained  
Thus long from your Society. Now to you,  
Arsamnes: Good Kings equal those in Laws  
Whom they have overcome in war; and to  
The Valiant, that chief part of good, to which  
We all are borne, sweet Liberty, is pleasing  
e'en in the Enemy. Your Queen, and others  
Her Ladies here, with the most beautiful  
Part of your Royal Court, are in my power.  
But far be't from me t'injure but the meanest:  
Only one life I'm so much Master of,  
(Since you have put it in my Power) that I  
Must give it back again, if it must be  
Beyond the Ephesian safety: the Altar comes  
More welcome than the Throne, if this shall bring  
Freedom to me, and Slavery to my City.   Atos. 

Here I must dwell, Arsamnes, tied by great  
And solemn Vows, (our Gods do now require it)  
Till you shall grant that the Ephesians may  
Still freely use their ancient Customs, changing  
Neither their Rites nor Laws, yet still reserving  
This honest Power unto your Royal self,  
To command only what the free are wont  
To undergo with gladness. I presume  
You scorn to have them subject as your own,  
And vile as strangers, Tyrants conquer thus.   Arsam. 

It is a time of Mercy; you have only  
Called forth those Favours which were freely coming.  
These generous thoughts have added to our Conquest.  
It is no Victory, that's got upon  
The sluggish, and the abject. Descend then;  
And when we've joined our hands, as Pledges of  
Our hearts combining so, let us return  
To th'Celebration of an equal Triumph,  
In an united marriage of our joys.   Crat. 

There I confess a Conquest, where I find  
He that subdued my body, gains my mind.   Ex. Arsam. and Lords, as to the Ladies.  

Act. 5.  
Sce. 4.  Molops, Philotas, Stratocles, Leocrates, Archippus. Mol. 
NAy, remember you kicked me Gentlemen.  Arch. 
Faith Landlord Molops, I'd have sworn thou hadst been of a better Nature, than to remember Pot quarrels.  
By my troth I should have kicked my Father in that humour.  Mol. 
Well, you colloque now: say I should present you to Arsamnes and Cratander, what would you do?  Leoc. 
Only welcome their return with a Dance, that so we might frisk into Liberty.  Mol. 
Yes, and kick me again.  Str. 
Dost thou think we are Rogues and Villains?  Mol. 
Well, with all my heart, but upon this Condition, that you untie neither Leg, nor Arm; you know Cratander's charge.  Phil. 
Dost thou think we'd bring thee into any danger? We have studied the Figure, and the Measure already.  Mol. 
You must let the two old women dance with you.  Phil. 
Who, the two whores that Cratander committed?  Mol. 
The very same. They are wondrous suitable now: for you must know, that when such slippery Eels do come under my fingers, the first thing that I do, is to strip 'em and to put 'em into other cases. You'll make a most perfect Gobline's Masque among you.  Str. 
Why? they will fall in pieces, If they stir but any thing violently.  Mol. 
No matter for falling in pieces; I'll pawn my word to you, they shall not sweat.  Leoc. 
Any thing, good honest Molops, we are content.  Mol. 
You, within there, Polecats; do y'hearheare? I have procured so much of the Gentlemen, hold your breaths be sure, and remember you do not drown the Music with your Coughing.  Exeunt.  

Act. 5.  
Sce. 5.  6th Appearance, the Court again. Arsamnes, Cratander, Atossa, Lords and Ladies as Victorious; to them after a while Molops. Ars. 
Whiles thus we're joined we are too hard for fortune, Scarce Heaven itself can hurt us, for it will not.  
There's no care now remaining, but t'invent  
New pleasures. Let the hour's wheel swiftly away  
In sports and Dances. Then we pay the Gods  
Best thanks, when we do show most sense of joy.  To them Molops. Mol. 
I have an humble suit to your Majesty in the behalf of some distressed people.  Arsam. 
Let's hear't: what is't?  Mol. 
There are half a dozen of sinners at the door, four of them are the Captives which your Majesty refused: two of 'em are of another Sex, but would willingly join with 'em, and present you with a Dance, in congratulation of your happiness.  Arsam. 

Go, bring 'em in, let Prisons this day know  
The joys of Palaces. We will receive Ex. Mol.  
All the delights the world can yield us. Hark.   The four Slaves as they were sent to Prison, and the two whores are presented by Molops. They dance in their Cripple Postures. Atos. 

I hope your Majesty will not deny  
To grace a Company of younger Ladies,  
With the like favourable eye.   Arsam. 

They do  
Honour our joys in condescending to  
Be Actors in their Celebration.   The Ladies in a solemn march, present themselves all in war-like habits, and dance: the whole Dance expressing these verses of Claudian. 

Insonuit cum verbere signa magister,  
Muta to sque edunt pariter tunc pectora motus,  
In latus allisis clypeis, aut rursus in altum  
Vibratis, grave parma sonat mucronis acurum  
Murmur, & umbonum pulsu modulante resultans  
Ferreus alterno concentus plauditur ictu.   Arsam. 

I see that Sardis hath it's Amazon's:  
An Army of these would subdue the world.    

Act. 5.  
Sce. 6.  To them I. Priest. I. Priest. 

THe fire is fully kindled, and the people  
All in their festival attire; there wants  
Only the Sacrifice, and yourself to kill it.   Arsam. 

The voice of Ravens in the dead of night  
Conveys not harsher notes into mine ears.  
I've pardoned him.   i. Priest. 

You cannot, unless you  
Will be more impious in preserving him,  
Than you were valorous in conquering.   Arsam. 

Will not the Gods receive an Hecatomb  
Of Oxen in exchange? may we not find  
The Destiny's in Beasts entrails? we will choke  
The fire with weighty lumps of richer gums,  
And send perfumed clouds up into their seats  
In one continued thankfulness, if that  
They'll spare this humane Sacrifice.   I. Priest. 

To promise  
The fairest Captive, and redeem him with  
A Beast, or Tear of some relenting Tree,  
Is not to worship, but delude.   Arsam. 

Cratander,  
The Gods recall my courtesy; I stand  
Doubly engaged, to Heaven, and to thee;  
But thou canst easier pardon; for I know  
Thy virtue's such, that thou hadst rather suffer  
thyself, than Heaven should be violated.  
Being then this sword must cut thy precious thread,  
If Statues may preserve thee, and thou thinkst it  
A life to flourish in fair memory,  
I'll people all my Kingdom with thy Images,  
To which they shall pay vows, as to those Gods  
Who now require thy company.   Atos. 

ye Powers,  
Why are you grown thus cruel unto Virtue?  
'T will be a wish hereafter to be foul.  
I cannot see him die, and live myself.  
Pray you defer his death a while, don't post him  
Away; perhaps the Gods may spare him yet.   Crat. 

I know that divers minds are here contained  
Under one silence, all expecting how  
I'll bear this sudden accident. T'accuse  
Or Gods, or Men, 's the part of him that would  
Live longer. If I look on the desires  
Of some here, whensoever I shall fall,  
I shall be thought t'have lived too little: if  
On the Actions I have done, I've lived enough  
If on the injuries of Fortune, too much:  
If on mine honour, and my fame, I shall  
Live still; he gains by death that doth die praised.  
others' have longer kept an Empire, but  
None better left it. To speak more, were but  
A sluggard's Policy, to defer his sufferings.  
On to the Altar.   Arsam. 

Art thou willing too?  
Cursed be my Victory! and thou my Sword  
Be never henceforth happy, if there be  
Another Sacrifice to fall like this.  
Witness ye Gods, how I unwilling pay  
My vows in kind. Most virtuous Cratander,  
(Worthy of Heaven, but yet to tarry longer,  
And make Earth happy by thy presence,) look;  
These tears I pay thee as a sad farewell.  
I feel the blow myself that I must give thee.   Crat. 

These tears do neither befit you to pay,  
Nor me to take; be then Arsamnes, on.   Arsam. 

I feel a numbness seize me; I am stone;  
I shall not lift mine arm against thee. Sure  
The God's desire it not.   Exeunt.  

Act. 5.  
Sce. 7.  7th Appearance, the Temple again discovered an Altar and one busy placing fire thereon. Enter Molops bearing the Sagar, then the 4 Slaves, 2 by 2; next the 4 Lords, then 4 Priests: after them Cratander alone, then the King and Queen, next Mandane and Ariene, last the Masquers: they all solemnly go round the Stage, and having placed themselves, Cratander standing by the Altar, a Priest sings the first song. 1. Priest. 

Thou o bright Sun who seest all.  
Look down upon our Captives fall.  
Never was purer Sacrifice:  
'Tis not a Man, but Virtue dies.   Cho. 

While thus we pay our thanks, propitious be;  
And grant us either Peace or Victory.   After the Song, Molops delivers the Sagar to Arsamnes, and Cratander kneels down at the Altar; then another Priest sings the second Song. 2. Priest. 

But thou o Sun mayst set, and then  
In brightness rise next morn again.  
He, when he shall once leave this light,  
Will make and have eternal night.   Cho. 

Good deeds may pass for Sacrifice, o then  
Accept the Virtues, and give back the Man.   8th Appearance, the Sun eclipsed, and a shower of rain dashing out the fire. Whiles the last Chorus is singing, the Sun appears eclipsed, &c. After the Song Arsamnes prepares to give the stroke, but is interrupted by the Priest. 2. Priest. 

Hold, hold Arsamnes;  
Heaven is not pleased with your Sacrifice.  
The glorious Sun hath veiled his face in clouds  
Not willing to behold it, and the skies  
Have shed such numerous tears, as have put out  
The fire though fully kindled.   Atos. 

Thou hast now,  
The voice and visage of the Gods, good Priest.  
The heavens' were never more serene. The Gods  
Have justified my care, Cratander.   Arsam. 

Happy news,  
Death sends thee back unto us; this comes not  
From any humane power; 'tis not my hand  
That spares thee, blessed Cratander, 'tis some God,  
Some God reserves thee unto greater works  
For us, and for thy Country.   Crat. 

Being then  
You so interpret it, I'll thus divide  
That life they lend me, one half shall be yours,  
The other ephesus', that mine Actions  
Wearing both Gratitude and Piety,  
Like to some well wrought Picture, may at once  
Behold both you, and that. 'I shall ne'er be said,  
The Gods reserved Cratander to a crime,  
To make him fall more foul.   Arsam. 

Thy faith hath been  
So firm and tried, thy moderation  
So stayed, that in a just reward I must  
myself conduct thee into Greece, and there  
Continue thee a King; that what was meant  
For sport and mirth, may prove a serious honour;  
And thy Three Days pass o'er into a long  
And happy government; to be ruled by thee  
Will be as freedom to them; 'twill not be  
Accounted slavery to admit a Prince  
Chosen from out themselves: thy Virtues there  
May shine, as in their proper Sphere. Let others  
When they make war, have this ignoble end  
To gain 'em Slaves, Arsamnes gains a Friend.    
FINIS.   

THE epilogue TO THE KING & queen.  Crat. 

THose glorious Triumphs of the Persian Court  
Are honoured much in being made your sport  
The Slave though freed by th' King, and his Priest too,  
Thinks not his Pardon good, till sealed by you:  
And hopes, although his faults have many been,  
To find here too the favour of a Queen.  
For 'tis our forward duty that hath shown  
These loyal faults in honour to your Throne  
Great joy doth bring some madness with it still;  
We challenge that as title to do ill.   

Can you expect then perfect motion, where  
'Tis the Digression only of our Sphere  
Which wheels in this new course, t' express the sense  
Of your approach, it's best Intelligence?  
O were you still fixed to it! your resort,  
Makes us desire an everlasting Course.  
And though we've read you o'er so long, that we  
Begin to know each line of Majesty,  
We think you snatched too soon, and grieve, as they  
Who for an half year's night, part with their day.  
And shall, till your return, though you appear  
In favours still, think darkness in our Sphere.  
Your sight will be preserved yet, though you rise:  
whene'er you go, Great Sir, hearts will have eyes.    

THE epilogue TO THE UNIVERSITY.  Arsam. 

THus cited to a second night, we've here  
Ventured our Errors to your weighing Ear.  
we'd thought they'd have been dead, as soon as borne;  
For Dreams do seldom live until the morn.   

There's difference twixt a College and a Court;  
The one expecteth Science, th' other sport.  
Parts should be Dialogues there, but Points to you:  
They look for pleasing, you for sound, and true.  
We fear then we have injured those, whose Age  
Doth make the Schools the measure of the Stage:  
And justly thence for want of Logic darts,  
May dread those sturdy Yeomen of the Arts.   

We are not trained yet to the Trade, none's fit  
To fine for Poet, or for Player yet.  
We hope you'll like it then, although rough filed;  
As the Nurse loves the lisping of the child.   

The Slave (then truly Royal, if you shall  
By your smiles too redeem him from his fall)  
Hopes you'll dismiss him so, that he may swear,  
One Court being gone, he found another here.  
Though raised from Slave to King, he vows he will  
Resume his former Bonds, and be yours still.    

The Epilogue to their Majesties at Hampton-Court.  

THe unfiled Author, though he be assured,  
That a bad Poet is a thing secured.  
fear's yet he may miscarry, for some do  
Having just nothing, lose that nothing too.  
His comfort's yet, that though the Incense fly  
Foul and unwelcome, and so scattered die,  
Neither the blot nor sin can on him stand,  
Being the censor's in another hand.  
For though the Piece be now marked his, and known:  
Yet the Repeaters make that Piece their own.  
Being then a new Reciter some way is  
Another Author, we are thus made his.  
we therefore hope nothing shall here be seen  
To make the Slave appeal from King or Queen:  
From yourselves here, t'your selves at Oxford; grace  
And favour altering with the time and Place,  
So that some thence may deem it happy fell  
There only, where you meant to take all well.  
'Tis then your Countenance that is the price  
Must redeem this, and free the Captive twice.  
He fears ill fate the less, in that if you  
Now kill him, you kill your own favour too.  
How ere he will not 'gainst injustice cry;  
For you who made him live, may make him die.   
FINIS.