THE widows Tears A Comedy.  
As it was often presented in the black and white Friars.  
Written by GEOR. CHAP.  
LONDON, Printed for john brown, and are to be sold at his shop in Fleetstreet in Saint Dunstanes Church-yard. 1612.   

To the right Virtuous and truly noble Gentleman, Mr IO. REED of Mitton, in the County of Glocester Esquire.  
SIR, if any work of this nature be worth the presenting to Friends Worthy, and Noble; I presume this, will not want much of that value. Other Country men have thought the like worthy of Dukes and PRINCE's acceptations; Iniusti sdegnij; Il Pentamento Amorose; Calisthe, Pastorfido, etc. (all being but plays) were all dedicate to Princes of italy. And therefore only discourse to show my love to your right virtuous and noble disposition; This poor Comedy (of many desired to see printed) I thought not utterly unworthy that affectionate design in me: Well knowing that your free judgement weighs nothing by the Name, or Form; or any vain estimation of the vulgar; but will accept acceptable matter, as well in Plays; as in many less materials, masking in more serious Titles. And so, till some work more worthy I can select, and perfect, out of my other Studies, that may better express me; and more fit the gravity of your ripe inclination, I rest.  
Yours at all parts most truly affected. GEO. CHAPMAN.   

The Actors.  
Tharsalio the wooer.  
Lysander his brother.  
Their. Governor of Cyprus.  
Lycas ser. to the widow Countess.  
Argus, Gent. Usher.  
3. Lord's suitors to Eudora the widow Countess.  
Hyl. Nephew to Tharsalio, and Son to Lysander.  
Captain of the watch.  
2. soldiers.  
Eudora the widow Countess.  
Cynthia, wife to Lysander.  
Sthenio.  
Ianthe Gent. attending on Eudora.  
Ero, waiting woman to Cynthia.   

The widows Tears. A comedy.  

Actus Primi.  

Scoena Prima.  THARSALIO Solus, with a Glass in his hand making ready. 
Thou blind imperfect Goddess, that delights  
(Like a deep-reaching Statesman) to converse  
Only with Fools: jealous of knowing spirits;  
For fear their piercing judgements might discover  
Thy inward weakness, and despise thy power;  
Contemn thee for a Goddess; Thou that lad'st  
Th'unworthy Ass with gold; while worth and merit  
Serve thee for nought; (weak Fortune) I renounce  
Thy vain dependence, and convert my duty  
And sacrifices of my sweetest thoughts,  
To a more Noble Deity. Sole friend to worth,  
And Patroness of all good Spirits, Confidence.  
she be my Guide, and hers the praise of these  
My worthy undertakings.  Enter Lysander with a Glass in his hand, Cynthia, Hylus, Ero. Lysand. 
MOrrow Brother; Not ready yet?  Thar. 
No; I have somewhat of the Brother in me; I dare say, your Wife is many times ready, and you not up. Save you sister; how, are you enamoured of my presence? how like you my aspect?  Cynth. 
Faith no worse than I did last week, the weather has nothing changed the grain of your complexion.  Thar. 
A firm proof, 'tis in grain, and so are not all complexions.  
A good soldiers face Sister.  Cynth. 
Made to be worn under a Beaver.  Thar. 
ay, and 'twould show well enough under a mask too.  Lysand. 
So much for the face.  Thar. 
But is there no object in this suit to whet your tongue upon?  Lysand. 
None, but Fortune send you well to wear it: for she best knows how you got it.  Thar. 
Faith, 'tis the portion she bestows upon younger Brothers, valour, and good clothes: Marry, if you ask how we come by this new suit, I must take time to answer it: for as the Ballad says, in written Books I find it. Brother these are the blossoms of spirit: and I will have it said for my Father's honour, that some of his children were truly begotten.  Lysand. 
Not all?  Thar. 
Shall I tell you brother that I know will rejoice you? my former suits have been all spenders, this shall be a speeder.  Lysand. 
A thing to be heartily wished; but brother, take heed you be not gulled, be not too forward.  Thar. 
'T had been well for me, if you had followed that counsel: You were too forward when you stepped into the world before me, and gulled me of the Land, that my spirits and parts were indeed borne too.  Cynth. 
May we not have the blessing to know the aim of your fortunes, what coast, for heavens love?  Thar. 
Nay, 'tis a project of State: you may see the preparation; but the design lies hidden in the breasts of the wise.  Lysand. 
May we not know't?  Thar. 
Not unless you'll promise me to laugh at it, for without your applause, I'll none.  Lysand. 
The quality of it may be such as a laugh will not be ill bestowed upon't; pray heaven I call not Arsace sister.  Cynth. 
What? the panderess?  Thar. 
Know you (as who knows not) the exquisite Lady of the Palace? The late Governors admired Widow? The rich and haughty Countess Eudora? Were not she a jewel worth the wearing, if a man knew how to win her?  Lysand. 
How's that? how's that?  Thar. 
Brother, there is a certain Goddess called Confidence, that carries a main stroke in honourable preferments. Fortune waits upon her; Cupid is at her beck; she sends them both of errands. This Deity doth promise me much assistance in this business.  Lysand. 
But if this Deity should draw you up in a basket to your countess's window, and there let you hang for all the wits in the Town to shoot at: how then?  Thar. 
If she do, let them shoot their bolts and spare not: I have a little Bird in a Cage here that sings me better comfort. What should be the bar? you'll say, I was Page to the Count her husband. What of that? I have there by one foot in her favour already; She has taken note of my spirit, and surveyed my good parts, and the picture of them lives in her eye: which sleep, I know, can not close, till she have embraced the substance.  Lysand. 
All this savours of the blind Goddess you speak of.  Thar. 
Why should I despair, but that Cupid hath one dart in store for her great Ladyship, as well as for any other huge Lady, whom she hath made stoop Gallant, to kiss their worthy followers. In a word, I am assured of my speed. Such fair attempts led by a brave resolve, are evermore seconded by Fortune.  Cynth. 
But brother? have I not heard you say, your own ears have been witness to her vows, made solemnly to your late Lord; in memory of him, to preserve till death, the unstained honour of a widows bed. If nothing else, yet that might cool your confidence.  Thar. 
Tush sister, suppose you should protest with solemn oath (as perhaps you have done, if ever Heaven hears your prayers, that you may live to see my Brother nobly interred) to feed only upon fish, and not endure the touch of flesh, during the wretched Lent of your miserable life; would you believe it Brother?  Lysand. 
I am therein most confident.  Thar. 
Indeed, you had better believe it then try it: but pray Sister tell me, you are a woman: do not you wives nod your heads, and smile one upon another when ye meet abroad?  Cynth. 
Smile? why so?  Thar. 
As who should say, are not we mad Wenches, that can lead our blind husbands thus by the noses? do you not brag amongst yourselves how grossly you abuse their honest credulities? how they adore you for Saints: and you believe it? while you adorn their temples, and they believe it not? how you vow Widowhood in their life time, and they believe you, when even in the sight of their breathless corpse, ere they be fully cold, you join embraces with his Groom, or his Physician, and perhaps his poisoner; or at least by the next Moon (if you can expect so long) solemnly plight new hymeneal bonds, with a wild, confident, untamed ruffian?  Lysand. 
As for example.  Thar. 
And make him the top of his house, and sovereign Lord of the Palace, as for example. Look you Brother, this glass is mine.  Lysand. 
What of that?  Thar. 
While I am with it, it takes impression from my face; but can I make it so mine, that it shall be of no use to any other? will it not do his office to you or you: and as well to my Groom as to myself? Brother, Monopolies are cried down. Is it not madness for me to believe, when I have conquered that Fort of chastity the great Countess; that if another man of my making, and metal, shall assault her: her eyes and ears should lose their function, her other parts their use, as if Nature had made her all in vain, unless I only had stumbled into her quarters.  Cynth. 
Brother: I fear me in your travail, you have drunk too much of that Italian air, that hath infected the whole mass of your ingenuous Nature; dried up in you all sap of generous disposition, poisoned the very Essence of your soul, and so polluted your senses, that whatsoever enters there, takes from them contagion, and is to your fancy represented as foul and tainted, which in itself perhaps is spotless.  Thar. 
No sister, it hath refined my senses, and made me see with clear eyes, and to judge of objects, as they truly are, not as they seem, and through their mask to discern the true face of things. It tells me how short lived widows tears are, that their weeping is in truth but laughing under a Mask, that they mourn in their Gowns, and laugh in their Sleeves, all which I believe as a Delphian Oracle: and am resolved to burn in that faith. And in that resolution do I march to the great Lady.  Lysand. 
You lose time Brother in discourse, by this had you bore up with the Lady and clapped her aboard, for I know your confidence will not dwell long in the service.  Thar. 
No, I will perform it in the conquerors style. Your way is, not to win Penelope by suit, but by surprise. The Castle's carried by a sudden assault, that would perhaps sit out a twelvemonth's siege. It would be a good breeding to my young Nephew here, if he could procure a stand at the Palace, to see with what alacrity I'll accost her countessship, in what garb I will woo her, with what facility I will win her.  Lysand. 
It shall go hard but we'll hear your entertainment for your confidence' sake.  Thar. 
And having won her Nephew; This sweet face  
Which all the City says, is so like me,  
Like me shall be preferred, for I will wed thee  
To my great widows Daughter and sole Heir,  
The lovely spark, the bright Laodice.  Lysand. 
A good pleasant dream.  Thar. 
In this eye I see  
That fire that shall in me inflame the Mother,  
And that in this shall set on fire the Daughter.  
It goes Sir in a blood; believe me brother,  
These destinies go ever in a blood.  Lysand. 
These diseases do, brother, take heed of them:  
Fare you well; Take heed you be not baffled.  Exeunt. Lys. Cynth. Hyl. Ero. manet Thars. Thar. 
Now thou that art the third blind Deity  
That governs earth in all her happiness,  
The life of all endowments, Confidence;  
Direct and prosper my intention.  
Command thy servant Deities, Love and Fortune  
To second my attempts for this great Lady,  
Whose Page I lately was; That she, whose board  
I might not sit at, I may board a-bed  
And under bring, who bore so high her head. Exit.  Lysander, Lycus. Lyc. 
'TIs miraculous that you tell me Sir: he come to woo our Lady Mistress for his wife?  Lys. 
'Tis a frenzy he is possessed with, and will not be cured but by some violent remedy. And you shall favour me so much to make me a spectator of the Scene. But is she (say you) already accessible for Suitors? I thought she would have stood so stiffly on her Widow vow, that she would not endure the sight of a Suitor.  Lyc. 
Faith Sir, Penelope could not bar her gates against her wooers, but she will still be Mistress of herself. It is as you know, a certain Itch in female blood, they love to be sued to: but she'll hearken to no Suitors.  Lys. 
But by your leave Lycus, Penelope is not so wise as her husband Ulysses, for he fearing the jaws of the Siren, stopped his ears with wax against her voice. They that fear the adder's sting, will not come near her hissing. Is any Suitor with her now?  Lyc. 
A Spartan Lord, dating himself our great viceroy's Kinsman, and two or three other of his Country Lords, as spots in his train. He comes armed with his Altitudes letters in grace of his person, with promise to make her a Duchess if she embrace the match. This is no mean attraction to her high thoughts; but yet she disdains him.  Lys. 
And how then shall my brother presume of acceptance? yet I hold it much more under her contentment, to marry such a Nasty braggart, then under her honour to wed my brother: A Gentleman (though I say't) more honourably descended than that Lord: who perhaps, for all his Ancestry would be much troubled to name you the place where his Father was borne.  Lyc. 
Nay, I hold no comparison betwixt your brother & him. And the Venerean disease, to which they say, he has been long wedded, shall I hope first rot him, ere she endure the savour of his Sulphurous breath. Well, her Ladyship is at hand; you're best take you to your stand.  Lys. 
Thanks good friend Lycus. Exit.  Enter Argus barehead, with whom another Usher Lycus joins, going over the Stage. Hiarbas, and Psorabeus next, Robus single before Eudora, Laodice, Sthenio bearing her train, janthe following. Peb. 
I Admire madam, you can not love whom the Viceroy loves.  Hiar. 
And one whose veins swell so with his blood, Madam, as they do in his Lordship.  Pso. 
A near and dear Kinsman his Lordship is to his Altitude, the Viceroy; In care of whose good speed here. I know his Altitude hath not slept a sound sleep since his departure.  Eud. 
I thank Venus I have, ever since he came.  Reb. 
You sleep away your Honour, Madam, if you neglect me.  Hiar. 
Neglect your Lordship? that were a negligence no less than disloyalty.  Eud. 
I much doubt that Sir, It were rather a presumption to take him, being of the blood viceroyal.  Reb. 
Not at all, being offered madam.  Eud. 
But offered ware is not so sweet you know. They are the graces of the Viceroy that woo me, not your Lordships, and I conceive it should be neither Honour nor Pleasure to you, to be taken in for another man's favours.  Reb. 
Taken in Madam? you speak as I had no house to hide my head in.  Eud. 
I have heard so indeed, my Lord, unless it be another man's.  Reb. 
You have heard untruth then; These Lords can well witness I can want no houses.  Hiar. 
Nor Palaces neither my Lord.  Pso. 
Nor Courts neither.  Eud. 
Nor Temples I think neither; I believe we shall have a God of him.  Enter Tharsalio. Arg. 
SEe the bold fellow; whether will you Sir?  Thar. 
Away way, all honour to you Madam?  Eud. 
How now base companion?  Thar. 
Base madam: he's not base that fights as high as your lips.  Eud. 
And does that beseem my servant?  Thar. 
Your Court-servant Madam.  Eud. 
One that waited on my board?  Thar. 
That was only a preparation to my weight on your bed Madam.  Eud. 
How dar'st thou come to me with such a thought?  Thar. 
Come to you Madam? I dare come to you at midnight, and bid defiance to the proudest spirit that haunts these your loved shadows; and would any way make terrible the access of my love to you.  Eud. 
Love me? love my dog.  Thar. 
I am bound to that by the proverb Madam.  Eud. 
kennel without with him, intrude not here. What is it thou presum'st on?  Thar. 
On your judgement Madam, to choose a Man, and not a By but, as these are that come with Titles, and Authority, as they would conquer, or ravish you. But I come to you with the liberal and ingenuous Graces, Love, Youth, and Gentry; which (in no more deformed a person than myself) deserve any Princess.  Eud. 
In your saucy opinion Sir, and sirrah too; get gone; and let this malapert humour return thee no more, for afore heaven I'll have thee tossed in blankets.  Thar. 
In blankets Madam, you must add your sheets, and you must be the Toffer.  Reb. 
Nay then Sir you're as gross as you are saucy.  Thar. 
And all one Sir, for I am neither.  Reb. 
Thou art both.  Thar. 
Thou liest; keep up your smiter Lord Rebus.  Hiar. 
Usest thou thus his Altitudes cozen?  Reb. 
The place thou know'st protects thee.  Thar. 
Tie up your valour then till another place turn me lose to you, you are the Lord (I take it) that wooed my great Mistress here with letters from his Altitude; which while she was reading, your Lordship (to entertain time) straddled and scaled your fingers; as you would show what an itching desire you had to get betwixt her sheets.  Hiar. 
'slight, why does your Lordship endure him?  Reb. 
The place, the place my Lord.  Thar. 
Be you his Attorney Sir.  Hiar. 
What would you do Sir?  Thar. 
Make thee leap out at window, at which thou cam'st in: whoreson bagpipe Lords.  Eud. 
What rudeness is this?  Thar. 
What tameness is it in you Madam, to stick at the discarding of such a suitor? A lean Lord, dubbed with the lard of others? A diseased Lord too, that opening certain Magic Characters in an unlawful book, upstart as many aches in's bones, as there are ouches in's skin. Send him (Mistress) to the Widow your Tenant; the virtuous panderess Arsace. I perceive he has crowns in's Purse, that make him proud of a string; let her pluck the Goose therefore, and her maids dress him.  Pso. 
Still my Lord suffer him?  Reb. 
The place Sir, believe it the place.  Thar. 
O good Lord Rebus; The place is never like to be yours that you need respect it so much.  Eud. 
Thou wrong'st the noble Gentleman.  Thar. 
Noble Gentleman? A tumour, an impostume he is Madam; a very hautboy, a bagpipe; in whom there is nothing but wind, and that none of the sweetest neither.  Eud. 
Quit the House of him by th'head and soldiers.  Thar. 
Thanks to your Honour madam, and my Lord cozen the Viceroy shall thank you.  Reb. 
So shall he indeed sir.  Lye. Arg. 
Will you be gone sir?  Thar. 
Away poor Fellows.  Eud. 
What is he made of? or what Devil sees your childish, and effeminate spirits in him, that thus ye shun him?  
Free us of thy sight;  
Be gone, or I protest thy life shall go.  Thar. 
Yet shall my Ghost stay still; and haunt those beauties, and glories, that have rendered it immortal.  
But since I see your blood runs (for the time)  
High, in that contradiction that foreruns  
Truest agreements (like the Elements  
Fighting before they generate;) and that Time  
Must be attended most, in things most worth;  
I leave your Honour freely; and commend  
That life you threaten, when you please, to be  
Adventured in your service; so your Honour  
Require it likewise.  Eud. 
Do not come again.  Thar. 
I'll come again, believe it, and again. Exit.  Eud. 
If he shall dare to come again, I charge you shut doors upon him.  Arg. 
You must shut them (Madam)  
To all men else then, if it please your Honour,  
For it that any enter, he'll be one.  Eud. 
I hope, wise Sir, a Guard will keep him out.  Arg. 
Afore Heaven, not a Guard (an't please your Honour.)  Eud. 
Thou liest base Ass; One man enforce a Guard?  
I'll turn ye all away (by our Isles Goddess)  
If he but set a foot within my Gates.  Lurd. 
Your Honour shall do well to have him poisoned.  Hiar. 
Or begged of your cozen the Viceroy. Exit.  Lysander from his stand. Lysand. 
This braving wooer, hath the success expected; The favour I obtained, made me witness to the sport; And let his Confidence be sure, I'll give it him home. The news by this, is blown through the four quarters of the City. Alas good Confidence: but the happiness is he has a forehead of proof; the stain shall never stick there whatsoever his reproach be.  Enter Tharsalio. Lysand. 
WHat? in discourse?  Thar. 
Hell and the Furies take this vile encounter.  
Who would imagine this Saturnian Peacock  
Could be so barbarous to use a spirit  
Of my direction, with such loved respect?  
Fore heaven it cuts my gall; but I'll dissemble it.  Lysand. 
What? my noble Lord?  Thar. 
Well Sir, that may be yet, and means to be.  Lysand. 
What means your Lordship then to hang that head that hath been so erected; it knocks Sir at your bosom to come in and hide itself.  Thar. 
Not a jot.  Lysand. 
I hope by this time it needs fear no horns.  Thar. 
Well Sir, but yet that blessing runs not always in a blood.  Lysand. 
What blanketed? O the Gods! spurned out by Grooms like a base Bisogno? thrust out byth' head and shoulders?  Thar. 
You do well Sir to take your pleasure of me, (I may turn tables with you ere long.)  Lysand. 
What has thy wits fine engine taken cold? art stuffed inh head? canst answer nothing?  Thar. 
Truth is, I took my entertainment the better that 'twas no better.  Lysand. 
Now the Gods forbid that this opinion should run in a blood.  Thar. 
Have not you heard this principle, All things by strife engender.  Lysand. 
dogs and Cats do.  Thar. 
And men and women too.  Lysand. 
Well Brother, in earnest, you have now set your confidence to school, from whence I hope 't has brought home such a lesson as will instruct his master never after to begin such attempts as end in laughter.  Thar. 
What Sir, you lesson my Confidence still; I pray heavens your confidence have not more shallow ground (for that I know) than mine you reprehend so.  Lysand. 
My confidence? in what?  Thar. 
May be you trust too much.  Lysand. 
Wherein?  Thar. 
In human frailty.  Lysand. 
Why brother know you aught that may impeach my confidence, as this success may yours? hath your observation discovered any such frailty in my wife (for that is your aim I know) then let me know it.  Thar. 
Good, good. Nay Brother, I write no books of Observations, let your confidence bear out itself, as mine shall me.  Lysand. 
That's scarce a Brother's speech. If there be aught wherein your Brother's good might any way be questioned can you conceal it from his bosom?  Thar. 
So, so. Nay my saying was but general. I glanced at no particular.  Lysand. 
Then must I press you further. You spoke (as to yourself, but yet I overheard) as if you knew some disposition of weakness where I most had fixed my trust. I challenge you to let me know what 'twas.  Thar. 
Brother? are you wise?  Lysand. 
Why?  Thar. 
Be ignorant. Did you never hear of Actaeon?  Lysand. 
What then?  Thar. 
Curiosity was his death. He could not be content to adore Diana in her Temple, but he must needs dog her to her retired pleasures, and see her in her nakedness. Do you enjoy the sole privilege of your wives bed? have you no pretty Paris for your Page? No mystical Adonis to front you there?  Lysand. 
I think none: I know not.  Thar. 
Know not still Brother. Ignorance and credulity are your sole means to obtain that blessing. You see your greatest Clerks, your wisest Politicians, are not that way fortunate, your learned Lawyers would lose a dozen poor men's causes to gain a lease an't, but for a Term. Your Physician is jealous of his. Your Sages in general, by seeing too much oversee that happiness. Only your blockheadly Tradesman; your honest meaning Citizen; your nott-headed Country Gentleman; your unapprehending stinkard is blessed with the sole prerogative of his wives chamber. For which he is yet beholding, not to his stars, but to his ignorance. For if he be wise, Brother, I must tell you the case altars.  
How do you relish these things Brother?  Lysand. 
Passing ill.  Thar. 
So do sick men solid meats: hark you brother, are you not jealous?  Lysand. 
No: do you know cause to make me?  Thar. 
Hold you there; did your wife never spice your broth with a dram of sublimate? hath she not yielded up the Fort of her Honour to a staring Soldado? and (taking courage from her guilt) played open bankrupt of all shame, and run the Country with him? Then bless your Stars, bow your knees to juno. Look where she appears.  Enter Cynthia, Hylus. Cynth. 
We have sought you long Sir, there's a Messenger within, hath brought you letters from the Court, and desires your speech.  Lysand. 
I can discover nothing in her looks. Go, I'll not be long.  Cynth. 
Sir, it is of weight the bearer says: and beside, much hastens his departure. Honourable Brother! cry mercy! what, in a conquerors style? but come and overcome?  Thar. 
A fresh course.  Cynth. 
Alas you see of how sleight metal widows vows are made.  Thar. 
And that shall you prove too ere long.  Cynth. 
Yet for the honour of our sex, boast not abroad this your easy conquest; another might perhaps have stayed longer below stairs, but upon your confidence, that surprised her love.  Hyl. 
My uncle hath instructed me how to accost an honourable Lady; to win her, not by suit, but by surprise.  Thar. 
The Whelp and all.  Hyl. 
Good Uncle let not your near honour's change your manners, be not forgetful of your promise to me, touching your Lady's daughter Laodice. My fancy runs so upon't, that I dream every night of her.  Thar. 
A good chicken, go thy ways, thou hast done well; eat bread with thy meat.  Cynth. 
Come Sir, will you in?  Lysand. 
I'll follow you.  Cynth. 
I'll not stir a foot without you. I can not satisfy the messenger's impatience.  Lys. 
He takes Thar. aside .will you not resolve me brother?  Thar. 
Of what? Lysander stamps and goes out vexed with Cynth. Hyl. Ero. So, there's veny for veny, I have given't him i'th' place speeding for all his confidence. Well out of this perhaps there may be moulded matter of more mirth, than my baffling. It shall go hard but I'll make my constant sister act as famous a Scene as Virgil did his Mistress; who caused all the Fire in Rome to fail so; that none could light a torch but at her nose. Now forth: At this house dwells a virtuous Dame, sometimes of worthy Fame, now like a decayed Merchant turned Broker, and retails refuse commodities for unthrifty Gallants. Her wit I must employ upon this business to prepare my next encounter, but in such a fashion as shall make all split. Ho? Madam Arsace? pray heaven the Oyster-wives have not brought the news of my wooing hither amongst their stale pilchards.  Enter Arsace, Tomasin. Ars. 
WHat? my Lord of the Palace?  Thar. 
Look you.  Ars. 
Why, this was done like a beaten Soldier.  Thar. 
Hark, I must speak with you. I have a share for you in this rich adventure. You must be the Ass charged with Crowns to make way to the Fort, and I the Conqueror to follow, and seize it. Seest thou this jewel?  Ars. 
Is't come to that? why Tomasin.  Tom. 
Madam.  Ars. 
Did not one of the countess's serving-men tell us that this Gentleman was sped?  Tom. 
That he did, and how her honour graced and entertained him in very familiar manner.  Ars. 
And brought him down stairs herself.  Tom. 
I forsooth, and commanded her men to bear him out of doors.  Thar. 
'slight, pelted with rotten eggs?  Ars. 
Nay more, that he had already possessed her sheets.  Tom. 
No indeed Mistress, 'twas her blankets.  Thar. 
Out you young hedge-sparrow, learn to tread afore you be fledge. He kicks her out:  
Well have you done now Lady.  Ars. 
O my sweet kilbuck.  Thar. 
You now, in your shallow pate, think this a disgrace to me, such a disgrace as is a battered helmet on a soldiers head, it doubles his resolution. Say, shall I use thee?  Ars. 
Use me?  Thar. 
O holy reformation! how art thou fallen down from the upper-bodies of the Church to the skirts of the City! honesty is stripped out of his true substance into verbal nicety. Common sinners startle at common terms, and they that by whole mountains swallow down the deeds of darkness; A poor mote of a familiar word, makes them turn up the white o'th' eye. Thou art the Lady's Tenant.  Ars. 
For term Sir.  Thar. 
A good induction, be successful for me, make me Lord of the Palace, and thou shalt hold thy Tenement to thee and thine ears for ever, in free smockage, as of the manner of Panderage, provided always.  Arsa. 
Nay if you take me unprovided.  Thar. 
Provided I say, that thou mak'st thy repair to her presently with a plot I will instruct thee in; and for thy surer access to her greatness, thou shalt present her, as from thyself with this jewel.  Arsa. 
So her old grudge, stand not betwixt her and me.  Thar. 
Fear not that.  
Presents are present cures for female grudges,  
Make bad, seem-good; alter the case with judges.  Exit. 
Finis Actus Primi.    

Actus Secundi.  

Scoena Prima.  Lysander, Tharsalio. Lysand. 
SO now we are ourselves. Brother, that ill relished speech you let slip from your tongue, hath taken so deep hold of my thoughts, that they will never give me rest, till I be resolved what 'twas you said, you know, touching my wife.  Thars. 
Tush: I am weary of this subject, I said not so.  Lysand. 
By truth itself you did: I overheard you. Come, it shall nothing move me, whatsoever it be; pray thee unfold briefly what you know.  Thars. 
Why briefly Brother. I know my sister to be the wonder of the Earth; and the Envy of the Heavens. Virtuous, Loyal, and what not. Briefly, I know she hath vowed, that till death and after death, she'll hold inviolate her bonds to you, & that her black shall take no other hue; all which I firmly believe. In brief Brother, I know her to be a woman. But you know brother, I have other irons on th'anvil. Exiturus.  Lysand. 
You shall not leave me so unsatisfied; tell me what 'tis you know.  Thar. 
Why Brother; if you be sure of your wives loyalty for term of life: why should you be curious to search the Almanacs for aftertimes: whether some wandering Aeneas should enjoy your reversion; or whether your true Turtle would sit mourning on a withered branch, till Atropos cut her throat: Beware of curiosity, for who can resolve you? you'll say perhaps her vow.  Lysand. 
Perhaps I shall.  Thar. 
Tush, herself knows not what she shall do, when she is transformed into a Widow. You are now a sober and stayed Gentleman. But if Diana for your curiosity should translate you into a monkey; do you know what gambols you should play? your only way to be resolved is to die and make trial of her.  Lysand. 
A dear experiment, than I must rise again to be resolved.  Thar. 
You shall not need. I can send you speedier advertisement of her constancy, by the next Ripier that rides that way with Mackerel. And so I leave you.  Exit. Thar. Lysand. 
All the Furies in hell attend thee; has given me a  
Bone to tire on with a pestilence; slight know?  
What can he know? what can his eye observe  
More than mine own, or the most piercing sight  
That ever viewed her? by this light I think  
Her privat'st thought may dare the eye of heaven,  
And challenge th'envious world to witness it.  
I know him for a wild corrupted youth,  
Whom profane Ruffians, Squires to Bawds, & Strumpets,  
Drunkards, spewed out of Taverns, intoth' sinks  
Of Tap-houses, and Stews, Revolts from manhood;  
Debauched perdu's, have by their companies  
Turned Devil like themselves, and stuffed his soul  
With damned opinions, and unhallowed thoughts  
Of womanhood, of all humanity,  
Nay Deity itself.  Enter Lycus. Lys. 
WElcome friend Lycus.  Lyc. 
Have you met with your capricious brother?  Lys. 
He parted hence but now.  Lyc. 
And has he yet resolved you of that point you broke with me about?  Lys. 
Yes, he bids me die for further trial of her constancy.  Lyc. 
That were a strange Physic for a jealous patient; to cure his thirst with a draft of poison. Faith Sir, discharge your thoughts an't; think 'twas but a Buzz devised by him to set your brains awork, and divert your eye from his disgrace. The world hath written your wife in highest lines of honoured Fame: her virtues so admired in this I'll, as the report thereof sounds in foreign ears; and strangers oft arriving here, (as some rare sight) desire to view her presence, thereby to compare the Picture with the original. Nor think he can turn so far rebel to his blood,  
Or to the Truth itself to misconceive  
Her spotless love and loyalty; perhaps  
Oft having heard you hold her faith so sacred  
As you being dead, no man might stir a spark  
Of virtuous love, in way of second bonds;  
As if you at your death should carry with you  
Both branch and root of all affection.  
'tmay be, in that point he's an Infidel,  
And thinks your confidence may overween.  Lys. 
So think not I.  Lyc. 
Nor I: if ever any made it good.  
I am resolved of all, she'll prove no changeling.  Lys. 
Well, I must yet be further satisfied;  
And vent this humour by some strain of wit,  
Somewhat I'll do; but what, I know not yet.  Exeunt. Enter Sthenio, janthe. Sthe. 
PAssion of Virginity, Ianthe, how shall we quit ourselves of this panderess, that is so importunate to speak with us? Is she known to be a panderess?  Ian. 
ay, as well as we are known to be waiting women.  Sthe. 
A shrew take your comparison.  Sthe. 
Let's call out Argus that bold Ass that never weighs what he does or says; but walks and talks like one in a sleep; to relate her attendance to my Lady, and present her.  Ian. 
Who? an't please your Honour? None so fit to set on any dangerous exploit.  
Ho? Argus?  Enter Argus bare. Arg. 
WHat's the matter Wenches?  Sthe. 
You must tell my Lady here's a Gentlewoman called Arsace, her honour's Tenant, attends her, to impart important business to her.  Arg. 
I will presently. Exit. Arg.  Iant. 
Well, she has a welcome present, to bear out her unwelcome presence: and I never knew but a good gift would welcome a bad person to the purest. Arsace?  Enter Arsace. Ars. 
I Mistress.  Sthe. 
Give me your Present; I'll do all I can, to make way both for it and yourself.  Ars. 
You shall bind me to your service Lady.  Sthe. 
Stand unseen.  Enter Lyc, Eudora, Laodice, Reb, Hiar Psor. coming after, Argus coming to Eudora. Arg. 
HEre's a Gentlewoman (an't  
Please your Honour) one of your Tenants  
Desires access to you.  Eud. 
What Tenant? what's her name?  Arg. 
Arsace, she says Madam.  Eud. 
Arsace? what the Bawd?  Arg. 
The Bawd Madam? she strikes, that's without my privity.  Eud. 
Out Ass, know'st not thou the panderess Arsace?  Sth. 
she present your Honour with this jewel?  Eud. 
This jewel? how came she by such a jewel?  
She has had great Customers.  Arg. 
she had need Madam, she sits at a great Rent.  Eud. 
Alas for your great Rent: I'll keep her jewel, and keep you her out, ye were best: speak to me for a panderess?  Arg. 
What shall we do?  Sthe. 
Go to; Let us alone. Arsace?  Ars. 
I Lady.  Sthe. 
You must pardon us, we can not obtain your access.  Ars. 
Mistress Sthenio, tell her Honour, if I get not access to her, and that instantly she's undone.  Sthe. 
This is something of importance. Madam, she swears your Honour is undone if she speak not with you instantly.  Eud. 
Undone?  Ars. 
Pray her for her honour's sake to give me instant access to her.  Sthe. 
she makes her business your Honour madam, and entreats for the good of that, her instant speech with you.  Eud. 
How comes my Honour in question? Bring her to me.  Enter Arsace. Ars. 
Our Cyprian Goddess save your good Honour.  Eud. 
Stand you off I pray: How dare you Mistress importune access to me thus, considering the last warning I gave for your absence?  Ars. 
Because, Madam, I have been moved by your honour's last most chaste admonition, to leave the offensive life. I led before.  Eud. 
I? have you left it then?  Ars. 
ay, I assure your Honour, unless it be for the pleasure of two or three poor Ladies, that have prodigal Knights to their husbands.  Eud. 
Out on thee Impudent.  Ars. 
Alas Madam, we would all be glad to live in our callings.  Eud. 
Is this the reformed life thou talk'st on?  Ars. 
I beseech your good Honour mistake me not, I boast of nothing but my charity, that's the worst.  Eud. 
You get these jewels with charity, no doubt. But what's the point in which my Honour stands endangered I pray?  Ars. 
In care of that Madam, I have presumed to offend your chaste eyes with my presence. Hearing it reported for truth and generally, that your Honour will take to husband a young Gentleman of this City called Tharsalio.  Eud. 
I take him to husband?  Ars. 
If your Honour does, you are utterly undone, for he's the most incontinent, and insatiate Man of Women that ever VENUS blessed with ability to please them.  Eud. 
Let him be the Devil; I abhor his thought, and could I be informed particularly of any of these slanderers of mine Honour, he should as dearly dare it, as any thing wherein his life were endangered.  Ars. 
Madam, the report of it is so strongly confident, that I fear the strong destiny of marriage is at work in it. But if it be Madam: Let your honour's known virtue resist and defy it for him: for not a hundred will serve his one turn. I protest to your Honour, When (VENUS pardon me) I winked at my unmaidenly exercise. I have known nine in a Night made mad with his love.  Eud. 
What tell'st thou me of his love? I tell thee I abhor him; and destiny must have another mould for my thoughts, than Nature or mine Honour, and a Witchcraft above both, to transform me to another shape, as soon as to another conceit of him.  Ars. 
Then is your good Honour just as I pray for you, and good Madam, even for your virtues sake, and comfort of all your Dignities, and Possessions; fix your whole Womanhood against him. He will so enchant you, as never man did woman: Nay a Goddess (say his light housewives) is not worthy of his sweetness.  Eud. 
Go to, be gone.  Ars. 
Dear Madam, your honour's most perfect admonitions have brought me to such a hate of these imperfections, that I could not but attend you with my duty, and urge his unreasonable manhood to the fill.  Eud. 
Manhood, quoth you?  Ars. 
Nay Beastly-hood, I might say, indeed Madam, but for saving your Honour; Nine in a night said I?  Eud. 
Go to, no more.  Ars. 
No more madam? that's enough one would think.  Eud. 
Well be gone I bid thee.  Ars. 
Alas Madam, your Honour is the chief of our City, and to whom shall I complain of these inchastities, (being your Ladyships reformed tenant) but to you that are chastest?  Eud. 
I pray thee go thy ways, and let me see this reformation you pretend continued.  Ars. 
I humbly thank your good Honour, that was first cause of it.  Eud. 
Here's a complaint as strange as my Suitor.  Ars. 
I beseech your good Honour think upon him, make him an example.  Eud. 
Yet again?  Ars. 
All my duty to your Excellence. Exit. Ars.  Eud. 
These sorts of licentious persons, when they are once reclaimed, are most vehement against licence. But it is the course of the world to dispraise faults & use them; that so we may use them the safer. What might a wise Widow resolve upon this point now? Contentment is the end of all worldly beings: Beshrew her; would she had spared her news. Exit.  Reb. 
See if she take not a contrary way to free herself of us.  Hiar. 
You must complain to his Altitude.  Psor. 
All this for trial is; you must endure  
That will have wives, nought else, with them is sure.  Exit. Tharsalio, Arsace. Thar. 
HAst thou been admitted then?  Ars. 
Admitted? ay, into her heart, I'll able it; never was man so praised with a dispraise; nor so spoken for in being railed on. I'll give you my word; I have set her heart upon as tickle a pin as the needle of a Dial; that will never let it rest, till it be in the right position.  Thar, 
Why dost thou imagine this?  Ars. 
Because I saw Cupid shoot in my words, and open his wounds in her looks. Her blood went and came of errands betwixt her face and her heart; and these changes I can tell you are shrewd tell-tales.  Thar. 
Thou speak'st like a doctress in thy faculty; but howsoever, for all this foil, I'll retrieve the game once again, he's a shallow gamester that for one displeasing cast gives up so fair a game for lost.  Ars. 
Well, 'twas a villainous invention of thine, and had a swift operation, it took like sulphur. And yet this virtuous Countess hath to my ear spun out many a tedious lecture of pure sister's thread against concupiscence. But ever with such an affected zeal, as my mind gave me, she had a kind of secret titillation to grace my poor house sometimes; but that she feared a spice of the Sciatica, which as you know ever runs in the blood.  Thar. 
And as you know, soaks into the bones. But to say truth, these angry heats that break out at the lips of these straight laced Ladies, are but as symptoms of a lustful fever that boil within them. For wherefore rage wives at their husbands so, when they fly out, for zeal against the sin?  Ars. 
No, but because they did not purge that sin.  Thar. 
thouart a notable Siren, and I swear to thee, if I prosper, not only to give thee thy manor-house gratis, but to marry thee to some one Knight or other, and bury thy trade in thy Ladyship: Go be gone. Exit. Ars.  Enter Lycus. Thar. 
WHat news Lycus? where's the Lady?  Lyc. 
Retired into her Orchard.  Thar. 
A pregnant badge of love, she's melancholy.  Lyc. 
'Tis with the sight of her Spartan wooer. But howsoever 'tis with her, you have practised strangely upon your Brother.  Thar. 
Why so?  Lyc. 
You had almost lifted his wit off the hinges. That spark jealousy falling into his dry melancholy brains, had well near set the whole house on fire.  Thar. 
No matter, let it work; I did but pay him in's own coin; 'sfoot he plied me with such a volley of unseasoned scoffs, as would have made Patience itself turn ruffian, attiring itself in wounds and blood: but is his humour better qualified then?  Lyc. 
Yes, but with a medicine ten parts more dangerous than the sickness: how know you strange his dotage ever was on his wife; taking special glory to have her love and loyalty to him so renowned abroad. To whom she oftentimes hath vowed constancy after life, till her own death had brought forsooth, her widow-troth to bed. This he joyed in strangely, and was therein of infallible belief, till your surmise began to shake it; which hath loosed it so, as now there's nought can settle it, but a trial, which he's resolved upon.  Thar. 
As how man? as how?  Lyc. 
He is resolved to follow your advise, to die, and make trial of her stableness, and you must lend your hand to it.  Thar. 
What to cut's throat?  Lyc. 
To forge a rumour of his death, to uphold it by circumstance, maintain a public face of mourning, and all things appertaining.  Thar. 
ay, but the means man: what time? what probability.  Lyc. 
Nay, I think he has not licked his Whelp into full shape yet, but you shall shortly hear an't.  Thar. 
And when shall this strange conception see light?  Lyc. 
Forthwith: there's nothing stays him, but some odd business of import, which he must wind up; lest perhaps his absence by occasion of his intended trial be prolonged above his aims.  Thar. 
Thanks for this news i' faith. This may perhaps prove happy to my Nephew. Truth is I love my sister well and must acknowledge her more than ordinary virtues. But she hath so possessed my brother's heart with vows, and disavowings, sealed with oaths of second nuptials; as in that confidence, he hath invested her in all his state, the ancient inheritance of our Family: and left my Nephew and the rest to hang upon her pure devotion; so as he dead, and she matching (as I am resolved she will) with some young Prodigal; what must ensue, but her post-issue beggared, and our house already sinking, buried quick in ruin. But this trial may remove it, and since 'tis come to this; mark but the issue Lycus, for all these solemn vows, if I do not make her prove in the handling as weak as a wafer; say I lost my time in travail. This resolution then has set his wits in joint again, he's quiet.  Lyc. 
Yes, and talks of you again in the fairest manner, listens after your speed.  Thar. 
Nay he's passing kind, but I am glad of this trial for all that.  Lyc. 
Which he thinks to be a flight beyond your wing.  Thar. 
But he will change that thought ere long. My Bird you saw even now, sings me good news, and makes hopeful signs to me.  Lyc. 
Somewhat can I say too, since your messenger's departure, her Ladyship hath been something altered, more pensive than before, and took occasion to question of you, what your addictions were? of what taste your humour was? of what cut you wore your wit, and all this in a kind of disdainful scorn.  Thar. 
Good Calendars Lycus. Well I'll pawn this jewel with thee, my next encounter shall quite alter my brother's judgement. Come let's in, he shall commend it for a discreet and honourable attempt. 
Men's judgements sway on that side fortune leans,  
Thy wishes shall assist me:   Lyc. 
And my means. Exeunt.  Argus, Clinias, Sthenio, janthe. Arg. 
I Must confess I was ignorant, what 'twas to court a Lady till now.  Sthe. 
And I pray you what is it now?  Arg. 
To court her I perceive, is to woo her with letters from Court, for so this Spartan Lords Court discipline teacheth.  Sth. 
His Lordship hath procured a new packet from his Altitude.  Clin. 
If he bring no better ware than letters in's packet, I shall greatly doubt of his good speed.  Ian. 
If his Lordship did but know how gracious his Aspect is to my Lady in this solitary humour.  Clin. 
Well these retired walks of hers are not usual; and bode some alteration in her thoughts. What may be the cause Sthenio.  Sthe. 
Nay 'twould trouble Argus with his hundred eyes to descry the cause.  Ian. 
Venus keep her upright, that she fall not from the state of her honour; my fear is that some of these Serpentine suitors will tempt her from her constant vow of widowhood. If they do, good night to our good days.  Sthe. 
'Twere a sin to suspect her; I have been witness to so many of her fearful protestations to our late Lord against that course, to her infinite oaths imprinted on his lips, and sealed in his heart with such imprecations to her bed, if ever it should receive a second impression, to her open and often detestations of that incestuous life (as she termed it) of widows marriages, as being but a kind of lawful adultery; like usury permitted by the law, not approved. That to wed a second, was no better than to cuckold the first: That women should entertain wedlock as one body, as one life, beyond which there were no desire, no thought, no repentance from it, no restitution to it. So as if the conscience of her vows should not restrain her, yet the world's shame to break such a constant resolution, should repress any such motion in her.  Arg. 
Well, for her vows, they are gone to heaven with her husband, they bind not upon earth: And as for Women's resolutions, I must tell you, The Planets, & (as ptolemy says) the winds have a great stroke in them. Trust not my learning if her late strangeness, and exorbitant solitude, be not hatching some new Monster.  Ian. 
Well applied Argus; Make you husbands Monsters?  Arg. 
I spoke of no husbands, but you Wenches have the pregnant wits, to turn Monsters into husbands, as you turn husbands into monsters.  Sthe. 
Well Ianthe, 'twere high time we made in, to part our Lady and her Spartan wooer.  Ian. 
We shall appear to her like the two fortunate Stars in a tempest, to save the shipwreck of her patience.  Sthe. 
ay, and to him to, I believe; For by this time he hath spent the last dram of his news.  Arg. 
That is, of his wit.  Sth. 
Just good wittols.  Ian. 
If not, that my Lady be not. too deep in her new dumps, we shall hear from his Lordship; what such a Lord said of his wife the first night he embraced her: To what Gentleman such a Count was beholding for his five children. What young Lady, such an old Count should marry; what Revels: what presentments are towards; and who penned the Pegmas; and so forth: and yet for all this, I know her harsh Suitor hath tired her to the uttermost scruple of her forbearances, and will do more, unless we two, like a pair of Shear, cut asunder the thread of his discourse.  Sthe. 
Well then, let's in; But my masters, wait you on your charge at your perils, See that you guard her approach from any more intruders.  Ian. 
Excepting young Tharsalio.  Sthe. 
True, excepting him indeed, for a guard of men is not able to keep him out an't please your Honour.  Arg. 
O Wenches, that's the property of true valour, to promise like pygmy, and perform like a Giant. If he come, I'll be sworn I'll do my Lady's commandment upon him.  Ian. 
What? beat him out?  Sthe. 
If he should, Tharsalio would not take it ill at his hands, for he does but his Lady's commandment.  Enter Tharsalio. Arg. 
WEll, by Hercules he comes not here.  Sthe. 
By Venus but he does: or else she hath heard my lady's prayers, and sent some gracious spirit in his likeness to fright away that Spartan wooer, that haunts her.  Thar. 
There stand her Sentinels.  Arg. 
'slight the Ghost appears again.  Thar. 
Save ye my quondam fellows in Arms; save ye; my women.  Sthe. 
Your Women Sir?  Thar. 
'Twill be so. What no courtesies? No preparation of grace? observe me I advise you for your own sakes.  Ian. 
For your own sake, I advise you to pack hence, lest your impudent valour cost you dearer than you think.  Clin. 
What senseless boldness is this Tharsalio?  Arg. 
Well said Clinias, talk to him.  Clin. 
I wonder that notwithstanding the shame of your last entertainment, and threatenings of worse; you would yet presume to trouble this place again.  Thar. 
Come you're a widgeon; Off with your hat Sir, acknowledge: forecast is better than labour. Are you squint eyed? can you not see afore you. A little foresight I can tell you might stead you much as the Stars shine now.  Clin. 
'Tis well sir, 'tis not for nothing your brother is ashamed on you. But Sir, you must know, we are charged to bar your entrance.  Thar. 
But Wifler, know you, that who so shall dare to execute that charge, I'll be his Executioner.  Arg. 
By jove, Clinias, methinks, the Gentleman speaks very honourably.  Thar. 
Well I see this house needs reformation, here's a fellow stands behind now, of a forwarder insight than ye all. What place hast thou?  Arg. 
What place you please Sir.  Thar. 
la you Sir. Here's a fellow to make a Gentleman Usher Sir, I discharge you of the place, and do here invest thee into his room, Make much of thy hair, thy wit will suit it rarely. And for the full possession of thine office; Come, Usher me to thy Lady: and to keep thy hand supple, take this from me.  Arg. 
No bribes Sir, an't please your Worship.  Thar. 
Go to, thou dost well; but pocket it for all that; it's no impair to thee: the greatest do't.  Arg. 
Sir, 'tis your love only that I respect, but since out of your love you please to bestow it upon me, It were want of Courtship in me to refuse it; I'll acquaint my Lady with your coming. Exit. Arg.  Thar. 
How say by this? have not I made a fit choice, that hath so soon attained the deepest mystery of his profession: Good sooth Wenches, a few curtsies had not been cast away upon your new Lord.  Sthe. 
we'll believe that, when our Lady has a new Son of your getting.  Enter Argus, Eudora, Rebus, Hiar. Psor. Eud. 
WHat's the matter? whose's that, you say, is come?  Arg. 
The bold Gentleman, an't please your Honour.  Eud. 
Why thou fleering Ass thou.  Arg. 
An't please your Honour.  Eud. 
Did not I forbid his approach by all the charge and duty of thy service?  Thar. 
Madam, this fellow only is intelligent; for he truly understood your command according to the style of the Court of Venus; that is, by contraries: when you forbid you bid.  Eud. 
By heaven I'll discharge my house of ye all.  Thar. 
You shall not need madam, for I have already cashiered your officious Usher here, and choosed this for his Successor.  Eud. 
O incredible boldness!  Thar. 
Madam, I come not to command your love with enforced letters, nor to woo you with tedious stories of my Pedigree, as he who draws the thread of his descent from Leda's Distaff; when 'tis well known his Grandsire cried Coniskins in Sparta.  Reb. 
Whom mean you Sir?  Thar. 
Sir, I name none, but him who first shall name himself.  Reb. 
The place Sir, I tell you still; and this Goddesses fair presence, or else my reply should take a far other form upon't.  Thar. 
If it should Sir, I would make your Lordship an anser.  Arg. 
Anser's Latin for a Goose, an't please your honour.  Eud. 
Well noted Gander; and what of that?  Arg. 
Nothing, an't please your Honour, but that he said he would make his Lordship an answer.  Eud. 
Thus every fool mocks my poor Suitor. Tell me thou most frontless of all me, didst thou (when thou hadst means to note me best) ever observe so base a temper in me, as to give any glance at stooping to my Vassal?  Thar. 
Your drudge Madam, to do your drudgery.  Eud. 
Or am I now so scant of worthy Suitors, that may advance mine honour; advance my estate; strengthen my alliance (if I list to wed) that I must stoop to make my foot my head.  Thar. 
No but your side, to keep you warm a-bed. But madam vouchsafe me your patience to that points serious answer. Though I confess to get higher place in your graces, I could wish my fortunes more honourable; my person more gracious; my mind more adorned with Noble and Heroical virtues, yet madam (that you think not your blood disparaged by mixture with mine) deign to know this: howsoever I once, only for your love, disguised myself in the service of your late Lord and mine, yet my descent is as honourable as the proudest of your Spartan attempers; who by unknown quills or conduits under ground, draws his Pedigree from Lycurgus his great Toe, to the viceroy's little finger, and from thence to his own elbow, where it will never leave itching.  Reb. 
'tis well Sir, presume still of the place.  Thar. 
'sfoot madam, am I the first great parsonage that hath stooped to disguises for love? what think you of our Countryman Hercules; that for love put on Omphale's Apron, and sat spinning amongst her Wenches, while his Mistress wore his lions skin and Lamb-skinned him, if he did not his business.  Eud. 
Most fitly thou resemblest thyself to that violent Atlas, that claimed all other men's possessions as his own by his mere valour. For what less hast thou done? Come into my house, beat away these Honourable persons?  Thar. 
That I will Madam. Hence ye Sparta Velvet.  Psor. 
Hold, she did not mean so.  Thar. 
Away I say, or leave your lives I protest here.  Hiar. 
Well Sir, his Altitude shall know you.  Reb. 
I'll do your errand Sir. Exeunt.  Thar. 
Do good cozen Altitude; and beg the reversion of the next Lady: for Dido has betrothed her love to me. By this fair hand Madam, a fair riddance of this Calidonian Boar.  Eud. 
O most prodigious audaciousness!  Thar. 
True Madam; O fie upon am, they are intolerable. And I can not but admire your singular virtue of patience, not common in your sex; and must therefore carry with it some rare endowment of other Masculine and Heroical virtues. To hear á rude Spartan court so ingenuous a Lady, with dull news from Athens, or the viceroy's court; how many dogs were spoiled at the last Bull-baiting; what Ladies dubbed their husband's Knights, and so forth.  Eud. 
But hast thou no shame? No sense of what disdain I show'd thee in my last entertainment? chasing thee from my presence, and charging thy duty, not to attempt the like intrusion for thy life; and dar'st thou yet approach me in this unmannerly manner? No question this desperate boldness can not choose but go accompanied with other infinite rudenesses.  Thar. 
Good Madam, give not the Child an unfit name, term it not boldness, which the Sages call true confidence, founded on the most infallible Rock of a woman's constancy.  Eud. 
If shame can not restrain thee, tell me yet if any brainless fool would have tempted the danger attending thy approach.  Thar. 
No Madam, that proves I am no Fool: Then had I been here a Fool, and a base low-sprited Spartan, if for a Lady's frown, or a lord's threats, or for a Guard of Grooms, I should have shrunk in the wetting, and suffered such a delicious flower to perish in the stalk, or to be savagely plucked by a profane finger. No Madam: First let me be made a Subject for disgrace; let your remorseless Guard seize on my despised body, bind me hand and foot, and hurl me into your ladyships bed.  Eud. 
O Gods: I protest thou dost more and more make me admire thee.  Thar. 
Madam, ignorance is the mother of admiration: know me better, and you'll admire me less.  Eud. 
What wouldst thou have me know? what seeks thy coming? why dost thou haunt me thus?  Thar. 
Only Madam, that the Aetna of my sighs, and Nilus of my tears, poured forth in your presence, might witness to your Honour the hot and moist affection of my heart, and work me some measure of favour, from your sweet tongue, or your sweeter lips, or what else your good Ladyship shall esteem more conducible, to your divine contentment.  Eud. 
Pen and Inkhorn I thank thee. This you learned when you were a serving-man.  Thar. 
Madam, I am still the same creature; and I will so tie my whole fortunes to that style, as were it my happiness (as I know it will be) to mount into my Lord's succession, yet vow I never to assume other Title, or State, than your servants: Not approaching your board, but bidden: Not pressing to your bed, but your pleasure shall be first known if you will command me any service.  Eud. 
Thy vows are as vain as a ruffians oaths; as common as the air; and as cheap as the dust. How many of the light housewives, thy Muses, hath thy love promised this service beside, I pray thee?  Thar. 
Compare shadows to bodies, Madam; Pictures to the life; and such are they to you, in my valuation.  Eud. 
I see words will never free me of thy boldness, and will therefore now use blows; and those of the mortalest enforcement. Let it suffice Sir, that all this time, and to this place, you enjoy your safety; keep back: No one foot follow me further; for I protest to thee, the next threshold past, let's pass a prepared Ambush to thy latest breath. Exit. Eud.  Thar. 
This for your Ambush, He draws. Dare my love with death?  Clin. 
'slight; follow an't please your Honour.  Arg. 
Not I by this light.  Clin. 
I hope Gentlewomen you will.  Sthe. 
Not we Sir, we are no parters of frays.  Clin. 
Faith nor I'll be any breaker of customs. Exeunt.   
Finis Actus Secundi.   

Actus Tertij.  

Scoena Prima.  Enter Lysander and Lycus booted. Lyc. 
WOuld any heart of Adamant, for satisfaction of an ungrounded humour, rack a poor lady's innocency as you intend to do. It was a strange curiosity in that Emperor, that ripped his Mother's womb to see the place he lay in.  Lys. 
Come do not load me with volumes of persuasion; I am resolved, if she be gold she may abide the taste, let's away, I wonder where this wild brother is.  Enter Cynthia, Hylus, and Ero. Cynth. 
SIr.  Lysand. 
I pray thee wife show but thyself a woman; and be silent: question no more the reason of my journey, which our great viceroy's charge urged in this letter doth enforce me to.  Cynth. 
Let me but see that letter, there is something in this presaging blood of mine, tells me this sudden journey can portend no good, resolve me sweet, have not I given you cause of discontent, by some misprision, or want of fit observance, let me know that I may wreak myself upon myself.  Lysand 
Come wife, our love is not grown old and staid,  
And must not wanton it in tricks of Court,  
Nor interchanged delights of melting lovers;  
Hanging on sleeves, fighting, loath to depart;  
These toys are passed with us; our true loves substance  
Hath worn out all the show, let it suffice,  
I hold thee dear: and think some cause of weight  
With no excuse to be dispendst with all,  
Compels me from thy most desired embraces;  
I stay but for my Brother, came he not in last night.  Hyl. 
For certain no sir, which gave us cause of wonder, what accident kept him abroad.  Cynth 
Pray heaven it prove not some wild resolution, bred in him by his second repulse from the Countess.  Lysand 
Trust me I something fear it, this insatiate spirit of aspiring, being so dangerous and fatal; desire mounted on the wings of it, descends not but headlong.  Enter Thars Hyl. 
Sir, sir, here's my Uncle.  Lysand 
What wrapped in careless cloak, face hid in hat unbanded, these are the ditches brother, in which outraging colts plunge both themselves and their riders.  Thar. 
Well, we must get out as well as we may, if not, there's the making of a grave saved.  Cynth 
That's desperately spoken brother, had it not been happier the colt had been better broken, and his rider not fallen in.  Thar. 
True sister, but we must ride colts before we can break them, you know.  Lysand 
This is your blind Goddess Confidence.  Thar. 
Alas brother, our house is decayed,& my honest ambition to restore it, I hope be pardonable. My comfort is: the Poet that pens the story will write over my head magnis tamen excidit ausis; which in our native Idiom, lets you know, His mind was high, though Fortune was his Foe.  Lysand 
A good resolve brother, to out-iest disgrace: come I had been on my journey but for some private speech with you: let's in.  Thar. 
Good brother stay a little, help out this ragged colt out of the ditch.  Lysand 
How now.  Thar. 
Now I confess my oversight, this have I purchased by my confidence.  Lysand 
I like you brother, 'tis the true Garb you know,  
What wants in real worth supply in show.  Thar. 
In show? alas 'twas even the thing itself,  
I oped my counting house, and took away  
These simple fragments of my treasury,  
Husband my Countess cried take more, more yet,  
Yet, I in haste, to pay in part my debt,  
And prove myself a husband of her store,  
Kissed and came of; and this time took no more.  Cynth 
But good brother.  Thar. 
Then were our honoured spousal rites performed,  
We made all short, and sweet, and close, and sure.  Lysand 
he's wrapped.  Thar. 
Then did my Ushers, and chief Servants stoop,  
Then made my women curtsies, and envied  
Their Lady's fortune: I was magnified.  Lysand 
Let him alone, this spirit will soon vanish.  Thar. 
Brother and sister as I love you, and am true servant to Venus, all the premises are serious and true, and the conclusion is: the great Countess is mine, the Palace is at your service, to which I invite you all to solemnize my honoured nupitalls.  Lysand 
Can this be credited!  Thar. 
Good brother do not you envy my fortunate achievement.  Lysand 
Nay I ever said, the attempt was commendable.  Thar. 
Good.  Lysand 
If the issue were successful.  Thar. 
A good state-conclusion, happy events make good the worst attempts. Here are your widdow-vowes sister; thus are ye all in your pure naturals; certain moral disguises of coyness, which the ignorant call modesty, ye borrow of art to cover your busk points; which a blunt and resolute encounter, taken under a fortunate aspect, easily disarms you off; and then alas what are you? poor naked sinners, God wot: weak paper walls thrust down with a finger; this is the way on't, boil their appetites to a full height of lust; and then take them down in the nick.  Cynth. 
Is there probability in this; that a Lady so great, so virtuous, standing on so high terms of honour, should so soon stoop?  Thar. 
You would not wonder sister, if you knew the lure she stooped at: greatness? think you that can curb affection; no, it whets it more; they have the full stream of blood, to bear them: the sweet gale of their sublimed spirits to drive them: the calm of ease to prepare them: the sunshine of fortune to allure them: Greatness to waft them safe through all Rocks of infamy: when youth, wit, and person come aboard once, tell me sister, can you choose but hoist sail, and put forward to the main?  Lysand. 
But let me wonder at this frailty yet; would she in so short time wear out his memory, so soon wipe from her eyes, nay, from her heart, whom I myself, and this whole I'll beside, still remember with grief, the impression of his loss taking worthily such root in us; how think you Wife?  Cynth. 
I am ashamed aunt, and abhor to think,  
So great and vowed a pattern of our sex,  
Should take into her thoughts, nay to her bed,  
(O stain to womanhood) a second love.  Lyc. 
In so short time.  Cynth. 
In any time.  Lysand. 
No wife.  Cynth. 
By juno no; sooner a loathsome Toad.  Thar. 
High words believe me, and I think she'll keep them; next turn is yours Nephew; you shall now marry my noblest lady-daughter; the first marriage in Paphos; next my nuptials shall be yours; these are strange occurrents brother, but pretty and pathetical: if you see me in my chair of Honour; and my Countess in mine arms; you will then believe, I hope, I am Lord of the Palace, then shall you try my great lady's entertainment; see your hands freed of me, and mine taking you to advancement.  Lysand. 
Well, all this rids not my business; wife you shall be there to partake the unexpected honour of our House. Lycus, and I will make it our recreation by the way, to think of your Revels and Nuptial sports; Brother my stay hath been for you; Wife pray thee be gone, and soon prepare for the solemnity, a month returns me.  Cynth. 
heavens guide your journey.  Lysand. 
Fare-will.  Thar. 
Farewell Nephew; prosper virility, but do you hear; keep your hand from your voice, I have a part for you in our hymenaeal show.  Hyl. 
You speak too late for my voice, but I'll discharge the part. Exit. Cyn. Hyl.  Lysand. 
Occurrents call ye them; soul shame confound them all; that impregnable Fort of chastity and loyalty, that amazement of the world; O ye Deities could nothing restrain her? I took her spirit to be too haughty for such a depression.  Thar. 
But who commonly more short heeled; then they that are high i'th' instep.  Lysand. 
methinks yet shame should have controlled so sudden an appetite.  Thar. 
Tush, shame doth extinguish lust as oil doth fire,  
The blood once hot, shame doth inflame the more,  
What they before, by art dissembled most  
They act more freely; shame once found is lost;  
And to say truth Brother; what shame is due to't? or what congruence doth it carry, that a young Lady, Gallant, Vigorous, full of Spirit, and Complexion; her appetite new whetted with Nuptial delights; to be confined to the speculation of a death's head, or for the loss of a husband, the world affording flesh enough, make the noontide of her years, the sunset of her pleasures.  Lyc. 
And yet there have been such women.  Thar. 
Of the first stamp perhaps, when the metal was purer than in these degenerate days; of later years, much of that coin hath been counterfeit, and beside so cracked and worn with use, that they are grown light, and indeed fit for nothing, but to be turned over in play.  Lysand. 
Not all brother.  Thar. 
My matchless sister only excepted: for she, you know is made of another metal, then that she borrowed of her mother. But do you brother sadly intend the pursuit of this trial?  Lysand 
Irrevocably.  Thar. 
It's a high project: if it be once raised, the earth is too weak to beat so weighty an accident, it cannot be conjured down again, without an earthquake, therefore believe she will be constant.  Lysand. 
No, I will not.  Thar. 
Then believe she will not be constant.  Lysand. 
Neither, I will believe nothing but what trial enforces; will you hold your promise for the governing of this project with skill, and secrecy?  Thar. 
If it must needs be so. But hark you brother; have you no other Capritions in your head to entrap my sister in her frailty, but to prove the firmness of her widow vows after your supposed death.  Lysand. 
None in the world.  Thar. 
Then here's my hand, I'll be as close, as my Lady's shoe to her foot that pinches and pleases her, and will bear on with the plot, till the vessel split again.  Lysand. 
Forge any death, so you can force belief. Say I was poisoned, drowned.  Thar. 
Hanged.  Lysand. 
Any thing, so you assist it with likely circumstance, I need not instruct you: that must be your employment Lycus.  Lyc. 
Well Sir.  Thar. 
But brother you must set in to; to countenance truth out, a hearse there must be too; It's strange to think how much the eye prevails in such impressions; I have marked a Widow, that just before was seen pleasant enough, follow an empty hearse, and weep devoutly.  Lyc. 
All those things leave to me.  Lysan. 
But brother for the bestowing of this hearse in the monument of our Family, and the marshalling of a Funeral.  Thar. 
Leave that to my care, and if I do not do the mourner, as lively as your Heir, and weep as lustily as your Widow, say there's no virtue in Onions; that being done, I'll come to visit the distressed widow; apply old ends of comfort to her grief, but the burden of my song shall be to tell her words are but dead comforts; and therefore counsel her to take a living comfort; that might ferret out the thought of her dead husband, and will come prepared with choice of suitors; either my Spartan Lord for grace at the viceroy's Court, or some great Lawyer that may solder up her cracked estate, and so forth. But what would you say brother, if you should find her married at your arrival.  Lysand. 
By this hand split her Weazand.  Thar. 
Well, forget not your wager, a stately chariot with four brave Horses of the Thracian breed, with all appurtenances. I'll prepare the like for you, if you prove Victor; but well remembered, where will you lurk the whiles?  Lysand. 
mewed up close, some short days journey hence, Lycus shall know the place, write still how all things pass, brother adieu; all joy attend you.  Thar. 
Will you not stay our nuptial now so near.  Lysand. 
I should be like a man that hears a tale And heeds it not; one absent from himself, my wife shall attend the Countess, and my Son.  Thar. 
Whom you shall here at your return call me father, adieu: jove be your speed.  
My Nuptials done, your Funerals succeed. Exeunt.  Enter Argus barehead Arg. 
A Hall, a hall: who's without there? Enter two or three with cushions .Come on, you're proper Grooms, are ye not? 'slight I think you're all Bridegrooms, ye take your pleasures so. A company of dormice. Their Honours are upon coming, and the room not ready. Rushes and seats instantly.  Thar. 
Now, alas fellow Argus, how thou art cumbered with an office?  Arg. 
Perfume sirrah, the room's dampish.  Thar. 
Nay you may leave that office to the Ladies, they'll perfume it sufficiently.  Arg. 
Cry mercy Sir, here's a whole Chorus of Syluans at hand, corneting, & tripping o'th' toe, as the ground they trod on were too hot for their feet. The device is rare; and there's your young Nephew too, he hangs in the clouds Deified with Hymen's shape.  Thar. 
Is he perfect in's part? has not his tongue learned of the Syluans to trip o'th' Toe?  Arg. 
Sir, believe it, he does it preciously for accent and action, as if he felt the part he played: he ravishes all the young Wenches in the Palace: Pray Venus my young Lady Laodice have not some little prick of Cupid in her, she's so diligent at's rehearsals.  Thar. 
No force, so my next vows be heard, that if Cupid have pricked her, Hymen my cure her.  Arg. 
You mean your Nephew Sir that presents Hymen.  Thar. 
Why so, I can speak nothing but thou art with in me: fie of this wit of thine, 'twill be thy destruction. But howsoever you please to understand, Hymen send the boy no worse fortune: And where's my Lady's honour?  Arg. 
At hand Sir, with your unparagoned sister, please you take your chair of Honour Sir?  Thar. 
Most serviceable Argus, the God's reward they service; for I will not.  Enter Eudora, leading Cynthia, Laodice, Sthenio, janthe, Ero, with others following. Eud. 
COme sister, now we must exchange that name  
For stranger Titles, let's dispose ourselves  
To entertain these sylvan Revellers.  
That come to grace our loved Nuptials,  
I fear me we must all turn Nymphs tonight,  
To side those sprightly wood-Gods in their dances;  
Can you do't nimbly sister? slight what ail you, are you not well?  Cynth. 
Yes Madam.  Eud. 
But your looks, methinks, are cloudy; suiting all the Sunshine of this clear honour to your husband's house.  
Is there ought here that sorts not with your liking?  Thar. 
Blame her not Mistress, if her looks show care.  
Excuse the Merchant's sadness that hath made  
A doubtful venture of his whole estate;  
His livelihood, his hopes, in one poor bottom,  
To all encounters of the Sea and storms.  
Had you a husband that you loved as well,  
Would you not take his absent plight as ill?  
Cavil at every fancy? Not an object  
That could present itself, but it would forge  
Some vain objection, that did doubt his safety;  
True love is ever full of jealousy.  Eud. 
jealous? of what? of every little journey?  
Mere fancy then is wanton; and doth cast  
At those sleight dangers there, too doting glances;  
Misgiving minds ever provoke mischances:  
Shines not the Sun in his way bright as here?  
Is not the air as good? what hazard doubt you?  Arg. 
His horse may stumble if it please your Honour;  
The rain may wet, the wind may blow on him;  
Many shrewd hazards watch poor travailers.  Eud. 
True, and the shrewdest thou hast reckoned us.  
Good sister, these cares fit young married wives.  Cynth. 
wives should be still young in their husband's loves.  
Time bears no Sith should bear down them before him.  
Our lives he may cut short, but not our loves.  Thar. 
Sister be wise, and ship not in one Bark,  
All your ability: if he miscarry,  
Your well tried wisdom should look on't for new.  Cynth. 
I wish them happy winds that run that course,  
From me 'tis far; One Temple sealed our troth.  
One Tomb, one hour shall end, and shroud us both.  Thar. 
Well, you're a Phoenix, there be that your cheer  
Love, with your husband be, your wisdom here.  
Hark, our sports challenge it; Sit dearest Mistress.  Eud. 
Take your place worthiest servant.  Thar. 
Serve me heaven. Music.  
As I my heavenly Mistress, Sit rare sister.  Music: 
Hymen descends; and six Syluanes enter beneath, with Torches.  Arg. 
A hall, a hall: let no more Citizens in there.  Laod. 
O, Not my cozen see; but Hymen's self.  Sthe. 
He does become it most enflamingly.  Hym. 
Hail honoured Bridegroom, and his Princely bride  
With the most famed for virtue, Cynthia;  
And this young Lady, bright Laodice,  
One rich hope of this noblest Family.  Sthe. 
Hark how he courts: he is enamoured too.  Laod. 
O grant it Venus, and be ever honoured.  Hym. 
In grace and love of you, I Hymen searched  
The groves and thickets that embrace this Palace  
With this clear-flamed, and good aboding Torch  
For summons of these fresh and flowery Syluans,  
To this fair presence; with their winding Haies,  
Active and antic dances to delight  
Your frolic eyes, and help to celebrate  
These noblest nuptials; which great Destiny,  
Ordained past custom and all vulgar object  
To be the readvancement of a house,  
Noble and Princely, and restore this Palace  
To that name, that six hundred Summers since  
Was in possession of this bridegrooms Ancestors,  
The ancient and most virtue-famed Lysandri.  
Syluans! the Courtships you make to your Dryads,  
Use to this great Bride, and these other Dames,  
And heighten with your sports, my nuptial flames.  Laod. 
O would himself descend, and me command.  Sthe. 
Dance; and his heart catch in another's hand.  Syluans, take out the Bride and the rest: They dance, after which, and all set in their places. Hymen. Hym. 
Now, what the Power and my torch's influence  
Hath in the blessings of your Nuptial joys  
(Great Bride and Bridegroom) you shall amply part  
Betwixt your free loves, and forego it never.  Omn. 
Thanks to great Hymen, and fair Syluanes ever.  Exeunt.  
Finis Actus Teriij.   

Actus Quarti.  

Scoena Prima.  Tharsalio, Lycus, with his Arm in a scarf, a nightcap on's head. Lyc. 
I Hope Sir by this time.  Thar. 
Put on man, by ourselves.  Lyc. 
The edge of your confidence is well taken off; would you not be content to withdraw your wager?  Thar. 
Faith fellow Lycus, if my wager were weakly built, this unexpected accident might stagger it, For the truth is, this strain is extraordinary, to follow her husband's body into the Tomb, and there for his company to bury herself quick: it's new and stirring, but for all this, I'll not despair of my wager.  Lyc. 
Why Sir, can you think such a passion dissembled?  Thar. 
All's one for that, What I think I think; In the mean time forget not to write to my Brother, how the plot hath succeeded, that the news of his death hath taken; a funeral solemnity performed, his supposed Corpse bestowed in the monument of our Family, thou and I horrible mourners: But above all that his intolerable virtuous Widow, for his love; (and for her love) Ero her handmaid, are descended with his Corpse into the vault; There wipe their eyes time out of mind, drink nothing but their own tears, and by this time are almost dead with famine. There's a point will sting it (for you say 'tis true) where left you him?  Lyc. 
At Dipolis Sir, some twenty miles hence.  Thar. 
He keeps close.  Lyc. 
ay sir, by all means; skulks unknown under the name of a strange Knight.  Thar. 
That may carry him without descrying, for there's a number of strange Knights abroad. You left him well.  Lyc. 
Well Sir, but for this jealous humour that haunts him.  Thar. 
Well, this news will absolutely purge that humour. Write all, forget not to describe her passion at thy discovery of his slaughter: did she perform it well for her husband's wager?  Lyc. 
Perform it, call you it? you may jest; men hunt Hares to death for their sports, but the poor beasts die in earnest: you wager of her passions for your pleasure, but she takes little pleasure in those earnest passions. I never saw such an ecstasy of sorrow, since I knew the name of sorrow. Her hands flew up to her head like Furies, hid all her beauties in her dishevelled hair, & wept as she would turn fountain. I would you and her husband had been behind the Arras but to have heard her. I assure you Sir, I was so transported with the spectacle, that in despite of my discretion, I was forced to turn woman, and bear a part with her. Humanity broke loose from my heart, and streamed through mine eyes.  Thar. 
In prose, thou weptst. So have I seen many a moist Auditor do at a play; when the story was but a mere fiction: And didst act the Nuntius well, would I had heard it: couldst thou dress thy looks in a mournful habit?  Lyc. 
Not without preparation Sir; no more than my speech, 'twas a plain acting of an interlude to me, to pronounce the part.  Thar. 
As how for heavens sake?  Lyc. 
Phoebus addressed his chariot towards the West  
To change his wearied Coursers, and so forth.  Thar. 
Nay on, and thou lov'st me.  Lyc. 
Lysander and myself beguiled the way  
With interchanged discourse, but our chief Theme,  
Was of your dearest self, his honoured wife;  
Your love, your virtue; wondrous constancy.  Thar. 
Then was her Cum to whimper; on.  Lyc. 
When suddenly appeared as far as sight  
A troup of horse, armed as we might discern,  
With javelins, Spears, and such accoutrements.  
He doubted nought (As innocency ever  
Is free from doubting ill.)  Thar. 
There dropped a tear.  Lyc. 
My mind misgave me.  
They might be mountaineers. At their approach  
They used no other language but their weapons,  
To tell us what they were; Lysander drew,  
And bore himself Achilles like in fight,  
And as a Mower sweeps off th'heads of Bents,  
So did Lysander's sword shave off the points  
Of their assaulting lances.  
His horse at last, sore hurt, fell under him;  
I seeing I could not rescue, used my spurs  
To fly away.  Thar. 
What from thy friend?  Lyc. 
I in a good quarrel, why not?  Thar. 
Good; I am answered.  Lyc. 
A lance pursued me, brought me back again;  
And with these wounds left me t'accompany  
Dying Lysander: Then they rifled us,  
And left us.  
They gone; my breath not yet gone, 'gan to strive  
And revive sense: I with my feeble joints  
Crawled to Lysander, stirred him, and withal  
He gasped; cried Cynthia! and breathed no more.  Thar. 
O then she howled out right.  Lyc. 
Passengers came and in a Chariot brought us  
straight to a Neighbour Town; where I forthwith  
coffined my friend in lead; and so conveyed him  
To this sad place.  Thar. 
'Twas well; and could not show but strangely.  Lyc. 
Well Sir, This tale pronounced with terror, suited with action clothed with such likely circumstance; My wounds in show, her husband's hearse in sight, think what effect it wrought: And if you doubt, let the sad consequence of her retreat to his Tomb, be your woeful instructor.  Thar. 
For all this, I'll not despair of my wager: These  
Grieves that sound so loud, prove always light,  
True sorrow evermore keeps out of sight.  
This strain of mourning with Sepulchre, like an overdoing Actor, affects grossly, and is indeed so far forced from the life, that it bewrays itself to be altogether artificial.  
To set open a shop of mourning! 'tis palpable.  
Truth, the substance, hunts not after the shadow of popular  
Fame. Her officious ostentation of sorrow condemns her sincerity. When did ever woman mourn so unmeasurably, but she did dissemble?  Lyc. 
O Gods! a passion thus borne; thus appareled with tears, sighs, swoonings, and all the badges of true sorrow, to be dissembled! by Venus I am sorry I ever set foot in't. Could she, if she dissembled, thus dally with hunger, be deaf to the barking of her appetite, not having these four days relieved nature with one dram of sustenance.  Thar. 
For this does she look to be Deified, to have Hymns made of her, nay to her: The Tomb where she is to be no more reputed the ancient monument of our Family the Lysandri; but the new erected Altar of Cynthia: To which all the Paphian widows shall after their husband's Funerals, offer their wet muckenders, for monuments of the danger they have passed, as Seamen do their wet garments at Neptune's Temple after a ship wrack.  Lyc. 
Well, I'll apprehend you, at your pleasure: I for my part will say; that if her faith be as constant as her love is hearty, and unaffected, her virtues may justly challenge a Deity to enshrine them.  Thar. 
ay, there's another point too. But one of those virtues is enough at once. All natures are not capable of all gifts. If the brain of the West, were in the heads of the learned; then might parish-clerks be common counsel men, and poet's Aldermen's deputies. My sister may turn Niobe for love; but till Niobe be turned to a Marble, I'll not despair but she may prove a woman. Let the trial run on, if she do not outrun it, I'll say Poets are no Prophets, Prognosticators are but mountebanks, & none tell true but woodmongers. Exit.  Lyc. 
A sweet Gentleman you are. I marvel what man? what woman? what name? what action doth his tongue glide over, but it leaves a slime upon't. Well, I'll presently to Dipolis, where Lysander stays; and will not say but she may prove frail: But this I'll say, If she should chance to break, Her tears are true, though women's truths are weak. Exit.  Enter Lysander like a Soldier disguised at all parts, a half Pike, gorget, etc. be discovers the Tomb, looks in and wonders, etc. 
O Miracle of nature! women's glory;  
Men's shame; and envy of the Deities!  
Yet must these matchless creatures be suspected;  
Accused; condemned!  
Now by th'immortal Gods,  
They rather merit Altars, Sacrifice,  
Than love and courtship.  
Yet see the Queen of these lies here interred;  
Tearing her hair; and drowned in her tears.  
Which jove should turn to Crystal; and a Mirror  
Make of them; wherein men may see and wonder  
At women's virtues. Shall she famish then?  
Will men (without dissuasions) suffer thus  
So bright an Ornament to earth, tombed quick.  
In Earth's dark bosom: Ho!  
Who's in the Tomb there?  Ero. 
Who calls? whence are you?  Lys. 
I am a Soldier of the watch and must enter.  Ero. 
Amongst the dead?  Lys. 
do the dead speak? open or I'll force it open.  Ero. 
What violence is this? what seek you here  
Where nought but death and her attendants dwell.  Lys. 
What wretched souls are you that thus by night lurk here amongst the dead?  Ero. 
Good Soldier do not stir her, she's weak, and quickly seized with swooning and passions, and with much trouble shall we both recall her fainting spirits.  
Five days thus hath she wasted; and not once seasoned her palate with the taste of meat; her powers of life are spent; and what remains of her famished spirit, serves not to breathe but sigh.  
She hath exiled her eyes from steep, or sight, and given them wholly up to ceaseless tears over that ruthful hearse of her dear Spouse, slain by Bantditos, Nobly borne Lysander.  Lysand. 
And hopes she with these heavy notes and cries to call him from the dead? in these five days hath she but made him stir a finger or fetch one gasp of that forsaken life she mourns?  
Come, honoured Mistress; I admire your virtues;  
But must reprove this vain excess of moan;  
Rouse yourself Lady, and look up from death,  
Well said, 'tis well; stay by my hand and rise.  
This Face hath been maintained with better housewifery.  Cyn. 
What are you?  Lys. 
Lady, I am Sentinel,  
Set in this hallowed place, to watch and guard  
On forfeit of my life, these monuments  
From Rape, and spoiled of sacrilegious hands,  
And save the bodies, that without you see  
Of crucified offenders; that no friends  
May bear them hence, to honoured burial.  Cyn. 
Thou seem'st an honest Soldier; pray thee then  
Be as thou seem'st; betake thee to thy charge  
And leave this place; add not affliction  
To the afflicted.  Lys. 
You misname the children.  
For what you term affliction now, in you  
Is but self-humour; voluntary Penance  
Imposed upon yourself: and you lament  
As did the Satire once, that ran affrighted  
From that horns sound that he himself had winded.  
Which humour to abate, my counsel tending your termed affliction,  
What I for Physic give, you take for poison.  
I tell you honoured Mistress, these ingredients  
Are wholesome, though perhaps they seem untoothsome.  Ero. 
This Soldier sure, is some decayed pothecary.  Lys. 
Dear Ghost be wise, and pity your fair self  
Thus, by yourself unnaturally afflicted:  
Chide back, heartbreaking groans, clear up those lamps,  
Restore them to their first creation:  
Windows for light; not sluices made for tears.  
Beat not the senseless air with needless cries,  
Baneful to life, and bootless to the dead.  
This is the Inn, where all Deucalion's race  
Sooner or later, must take up their lodging;  
No privilege can free us from this prison;  
No tears, no prayers, can redeem from hence  
A captived soul; Make use of what you see:  
Let this affrighting spectacle of death  
Teach you to nourish life.  Ero. 
Good hear him: this is a rare Soldier.  Lysan. 
Say that with abstinence you should unlose the knot of life: Suppose that in this Tomb for your dear Spouse, you should entomb yourself a living Corpse; Say that before your hour without due Summons from the Fates, you send your hasty soul to hell: can your dear Spouse take notice of your faith and constancy? Shall your dear Spouse revive to give you thanks?  Cynth. 
Idle discourser.  Lysan. 
No, your moans are idle.  
Go to I say, be counselled; raise yourself:  
Enjoy the fruits of life, there's viands for you,  
Now, live for a better husband.  
No? will you none?  Ero. 
For love of courtesy, good Mistress, eat,  
Do not reject so kind and sweet an offer,  
Who knows but this may be some mercury  
Disguised, and sent from juno to relieve us?  
Did ever any lend unwilling ears  
To those that came with messages of life?  Cynth. 
I pray thee leave thy Rhetoric.  Ero. 
By my soul; to speak plain truth, I could rather wish t'employ my teeth then my tongue, so your example would be my warrant.  Cynth. 
Thou hast my warrant.  Lysand. 
Well then, eat my wench,  
Let obstinacy starve.  
Fall to.  Ero. 
Persuade my Mistress first.  Lysand. 
'slight tell me Lady,  
Are you resolved to die? If that be so,  
Choose not (for shame) a base, and beggar's death:  
Die not for hunger, like a Spartan Lady;  
Fall valiantly upon a sword, or drink  
Noble death, expel your grief with poison.  
There 'tis, seize it.— Tush you dare not die.  
Come Wench thou hast not lost a husband;  
Thou shalt eat, thouart now within  
The place where I command.  Ero. 
I protest sir.  Lys. 
Well said; eat, and protest, or I'll protest  
And do thou eat; thou eatest against thy will,  
That's it thou wouldst say.  Ero. 
It is.  Lys. 
And under such a protestation  
Thou lost 'thy Maidenhead.  
For your own sake good Lady forget this husband,  
Come you are now become a happy Widow,  
A blessedness that many would be glad of.  
That and your husband's Inventory together,  
Will raise you up husbands enough.  
What think you of me?  Cynth. 
Trifler, pursue this wanton Theme no further;  
Lest (which I would be loath) your speech provoke  
uncivil language from me; I must tell you,  
One joint of him I lost, was much more worth  
Than the racked value of thy entire body.  Ero. 
O know what joint she means.  Lys. 
Well, I have done.  
And well done frailty; proface, how lik'st thou it.  Ero. 
Very toothsome ingredients surely sir,  
Want but some liquor to incorporate them.  Lys. 
There 'tis, carouse.  Ero. 
I humbly thank you Sir.  Lys. 
Hold pledge me now.  Ero. 
'tis the poison Sir,  
That preserves life, I take it. bibit Ancill.  Lys. 
Do so, take it.  Ero. 
Sighing has made me something short-winded.  
I'll pledge y'at twice.  Lys. 
'tis well done; do me right.  Ero. 
I pray sir, have you been a Pothecary?  Lys. 
Marry have I wench; A woman's Pothecary.  Ero. 
Have you good Ingredients?  
I like your Bottle well. Good Mistress taste it.  
Try but the operation, 'twill fetch up  
The Roses in your cheeks again.  
Doctor Verolles' bottles are not like it;  
There's no Guaicum here, I can assure you.  Lys. 
This will do well anon.  Ero. 
Now fie upon't.  
O I have lost my tongue in this same limbo.  
The spring ants, spoiled methinks; it goes not off  
With the old twang.  Lys. 
Well said wench, oil it well; 'twill make it slide well.  Ero. 
Aristotle says sir, in his posteriors.  Lys. 
This wench is learned; And what sales he?  Ero. 
That when a man dies, the last thing that moves is his heart, in a woman her tongue.  Lys. 
Right; and adds further, that you women are a kind of spinners; if their legs be plucked off, yet still they'll wag them; so will you your tongues.  
With what an easy change does this same weakness  
Of women, slip from one extreme t' another?  
All these attractions take no hold of her;  
No not to take refection; 'T must not be thus.  
Well said wench; Tickle that Helicon.  
But shall we quit the field with this disgrace  
Given to our Oratory? Both not gain  
So much ground of her as to make her eat?  Ero. 
Faith the truth is sir; you are no fit Organ  
For this business;  
'tis quite out of your Element:  
Let us alone, she'll eat I have no fear;  
A woman's tongue best fits a woman's ear.  
jove never did employ mercury,  
But Iris for his Messenger to juno.  Lys. 
Come, let me kiss thee wench; wilt undertake  
To make thy Mistress eat?  Ero 
It shall go hard Sir  
But I will make her turn flesh and blood,  
And learn to live as other mortals do.  Lys. 
Well said: the morning hasts; next night expect me.  Ero. 
With more provision good Sir.  Lys. 
Very good. Exiturus.  Ero. 
And bring more wine. she shuts up the Tomb.  Lys. 
What else; shalt have enough:  
O Cynthia, heir of her bright purity,  
Whose name thou dost inherit; Thou disdainest  
(Severed from all concretion) to feed  
Upon the base food of gross Elements.  
Thou all art soul; All immortality.  
Thou fasts for Nectar and Ambrosia,  
Which till thou find'st, and eatest above the stars,  
To all food here thou bid'st celestial wars. Exit.  Cynthia, Ero, the Tomb opening. Ero. 
So; let's air our dampish spirits, almost stifled in this gross muddy Element.  Cyn. 
How sweet a breath the calmness of the night inspires the air withal?  Ero. 
Well said; Now you're yourself: did not I tell you how sweet an operation the soldiers bottle had? And if there be such virtue in the bottle; what is there in the Soldier? know, and acknowledge his worth when he comes in any case Mistress.  Cyn. 
So Maid,  Ero. 
God's my patience? did you look forsooth that juno should have sent you meat from her own Trencher, in reward of your widows tears? you might sit and sigh first till your heartstrings broke, I'll able't.  Cyn. 
I fear me thy lips have gone so oft to the bottle, that thy tongue-strings are come broken home.  Ero. 
Faith the truth is, my tongue hath been so long tied up, that 'tis covered with rust, & I rub it against my palate as we do suspected coins, to try whether it be currant or no. But now Mistress for an upshot of this bottle; let's have one carouse to the good speed of my old Master, and the good speed of my new.  Cyn. 
So damsel.  Ero. 
You must pledge it, here's to it. Do me right I pray.  Cyn. 
You say I must.  Ero. 
Must? what else?  Cyn. 
How excellent ill this humour suits our habit?  Ero. 
Go to Mistress, do not think but you and I shall have good sport with this jest, when we are in private at home. I would to Venus we had some honest shift or other to get off withal; for I'll no more an't; I'll not turn saltpeter in this vault for never a man's company living; much less for a woman's. Sure I am the wonder's over, and 'twas only for that, that I endured this; and so a my conscience did you. Never deny it.  Cyn. 
Nay pray thee take it to thee.  Enter Lysander. Cyn. 
Hark I hear some footing near us.  Ero. 
God's me 'tis the Soldier Mistress, by Venus if you fall to your late black sanctus again, I'll discover you.  Lys. 
What's here? The maid hath certainly prevailed with her; methinks those clouds that last night covered her looks are now dispersed: I'll try this further. Save you Lady.  Ero. 
Honourable Soldier? you're welcome; please you step in sir?  Lys. 
With all my heart sweet heart; by your patience Lady; why this bears some shape of life yet. damsel, thoust performed a service of high reckoning, which cannot perish unrewarded.  Ero. 
Faith Sir, you are in the way to do it once, if you have the heart to hold on.  Cyn. 
Your bottle has poisoned this wench sir.  Lys. 
A wholesome poison it is Lady, if I may be judge; of which sort here is one better bottle more. 
Wine is ordained to raise such hearts as sink,  
Whom woeful stars distemper; let him drink.  I am most glad I have been some mean to this part of your recovery, and will drink to the rest of it.  Ero. 
Go to Mistress, pray simper no more; pledge the man of War here.  Cyn. 
Come you're too rude.  Ero. 
Good.  Lys. 
Good sooth Lady you're honoured in her service; I would have you live, and she would have you live freely; without which life is but death. To live freely is to feast our appetites freely; without which humans are stones; to the satisfaction whereof I drink Lady.  Cyn. 
I'll pledge you Sir.  Ero. 
Said like a Mistress; and the Mistress of yourself; pledge him in love too: I see he loves you; she's silent, she consents sir.  Lys. 
O happy stars. And now pardon Lady; methinks these are all of a piece.  Ero. 
Nay if you kiss all of a piece we shall ne'er have done: Well 'twas well offered, and as well taken.  Cyn. 
If the world should see this.  Lys. 
The world! should one so rare as yourself, respect the vulgar world?  Cyn. 
The praise I have had, I would continue.  Lys. 
What of the vulgar? Who hates not the vulgar, deserves not love of the virtuous. And to affect praise of that we despise, how ridiculous it is?  Ero. 
Comfortable doctrine Mistress, edify, edify.  
methinks even thus it was when Dido  
And Aeneas met in the Cave; And hark  
methinks I hear some of the hunters. She shuts the tomb.   
Finis Actus Quarti.   

Actus Quinti.  

Scoena Prima:  Enter Tharsalio, Lycus. Lyc. 
'tIs such an obstinacy in you Sir,  
As never was conceited, to run on  
With an opinion against all the world,  
And what your eyes may witness; to adventure  
The famishment for grief of such a woman  
As all men's merits met in any one,  
Could not deserve.  Thar. 
I must confess it Lycus,  
we'll therefore now prevent it if we may,  
And that our curious trial hath not dwelled  
Too long on this unnecessary haunt:  
Grief, and all want of food; not having wrought:  
Too mortally on her divine disposure.  Lyc. 
I fear they have, and she is past our cure.  Thar. 
I must confess with fear and shame as much.  Lyc. 
And that she will not trust in any thing  
What you persuade her to.  Thar. 
Then thou shalt haste  
And call my brother from his secret shroud,  
Where he appointed thee to come and tell him.  
How all things have succeeded.  Lyc. 
This is well.  
If (as I say) the ill be not so grown,  
That-all help is denied her. But I fear  
The matchless dame is famished. Thar. looks into the tomb.  Thar. 
'slight, whose's here?  
A Soldier with my sister? wipe, wipe, see  
Kissing by jove; she, as I lay 'tis she.  Lyc. 
What? is she well Sir?  Thar. 
O no, she is famished;  
she's past our comfort, she lies drawing on.  Lyc. 
The Gods forbid.  Thar. 
Look thou, she's drawing on.  
How sayst thou?  Lyc. 
Drawing on? Illustrious witchcrafts.  Thar. 
Lies she not drawing on?  Lyc. 
she draws on fairly.  
Our sister Sir? This she? can this be she?  Thar. 
She, she, she, and none but she. He dances & sings.  
she only Queen of love, and chastity,  
O chastity; This women be.  Lyc. 
'slight 'tis prodigious.  Thar. 
Horse, horse, horse,  
four Chariot Horses of the Thracian breed,  
Come, bring me brother. O the happiest evening,  
That ever drew her vail before the Sun.  
Who is't canst tell?  Lyc. 
The Soldier Sir that watches  
The bodies crucified in this hallowed place.  
Of which to lose one, it is death to him,  
And yet the lustful knave is at his Venery,  
While one might steal one.  Thar. 
What a slave was I  
That held not out my winds strength constantly,  
That she would prove thus? O incredible?  
A poor eight-penny Soldier? She that lately  
Was at such height of interjection,  
Stoop now to such a base conjunction?  
By heaven I wonder now I see't in act,  
My brain could ever dream of such a thought.  
And yet, 'tis true: Rare, peerless, is't not Lycus?  Lyc. 
I know not what it is; Nor what to say.  Thar. 
O had I held out (villain that I was,)  
My blessed confidence but one minute longer,  
I should have been eternized. God's my fortune,  
What an unspeakable sweet sight it is?  
O eyes I'll sacrifice to your dear sense.  
And consecrate a fane to Confidence.  Lyc. 
But this you must at no hand tell your brother.  
'twill make him mad: For he that was before  
So scourged but only with bare jealousy.  
What would he be, if he should come to know it?  Thar. 
He would be less mad: for your only way  
To clear his jealousy, is to let him know it.  
When knowledge comes suspicion vanishes.  
The Sunbeams breaking forth swallow the mists.  
But as for you Sir Gallant; howsoever  
Your banquet seems sweet in your liquorous palate,  
It shall be sure to turn gall in your maw.  
Thy hand a little Lycus here without.  Lyc. 
To what?  Thar. 
No booty serve you sir Soldado  
But my poor sister? Come, lend me thy shoulder,  
I'll climb the cross; it will be such a cooler  
To my Venerean Gentleman's hot liver,  
When he shall find one of his crucified bodies  
Stolen down, and he to be forthwith made fast  
In place thereof, for the sign  
Of the lost Sentinel. Come glorify  
Firm Confidence in great Inconstancy.  
And this believe (for all proved knowledge swears)  
He that believes in error, never errs. Exeunt.  The Tomb opens, Lysander, Cynthia, Ero. Lys. 
'tis late; I must away.  Cyn. 
Not yet sweet love.  Lys. 
Tempt not my stay, 'tis dangerous. The law is strict, and not to be dispensed with. If any Sentinel be too late in's watch, or that by his neglect one of the crucified bodies should be stolen from the cross, his life buys it.  Cyn. 
A little stay will not endanger them.  
The days proclaimer has not yet given warning.  
The Cock yet has not beat his third alarm.  Lys. 
What? shall we ever dwell here amongst th' Antipodes?  
Shall I not enjoy the honour of my fortune in public? sit in  
Lysander's chair? Reign in his wealth?  Cyn. 
Thou shalt, thou shalt; though my love to thee  
Hath proved thus sudden and for haste leaped over  
The complement of wooing, Yet only for the world's opinion.  Lys. 
Mark that again.  Cyn. 
I must maintain a form in parting hence.  Lys. 
Out upon't, Opinion the blind Goddess of Fools, Foe to the virtuous; and only friend to undeserving persons, contemn it. Thou know'st thou hast done virtuously; thou hast strangely sorrowed for thy husband, followed him to death; further thou couldst not, thou hast buried thyself quick. (O that 'twere true) spent more tears over his carcase, then would serve a whole City of saddest widows in a plague time; beside sighings, and swoonings, not to be credited.  Cyn. 
True; but those compliments might have their time for fashion sake.  Lys. 
Right, Opinion and Fashion. 'sfoot what call you time? th' hast wept these four whole days.  Ero. 
Nay by’r lady almost five.  Lys. 
Look you there; near upon five whole days.  Cyn. 
Well go and see; Return, we'll go home.  Lys. 
Hell be thy home, Huge Monsters damn ye, and your whole creation, O ye Gods; in the height of her mourning in a Tomb, within sight of so many deaths! her husbands believed body in her eye. He dead, a few days before; this mirror of Nuptial chastity; this Votress of widow-constancy: to change her faith; exchange kisses, embraces, with a stranger; and but my shame withstood, to give the utmost earnest of her love, to an eight-penny Sentinel: in effect, to prostitute herself upon her husband's Coffin! Lust, impiety, hell, womanhood itself, add if you can one step to this.  Enter Captain with two or three Soldiers. Cap. 
ONe of the crucified bodies taken down!  Lys. 
Enough. (slinks away.)  Cap. 
And the Sentinel not to be heard off?  1. 
No sir.  Cap. 
Make out; haste, search about for him; does none of you know him? nor his name?  2. 
he's but a stranger here of some four days standing; and we never set eye on him, but at setting the watch.  Cap. 
For whom serves he? you look well to your watch masters.  1. 
For Seigneur Stratio, and whence he is, 'tis ignorant to us; we are not correspondent for any, but our own places.  Cap. 
You're eloquent. Abroad I say, let me have him. Exeunt .This negligence will by the Governor be wholly cast on me, he hereby will suggest to the Viceroy, that the City guards are very carelessly attended. He loves me not I know; because of late I knew him but of mean condition; but now by fortunes injudicious hand, guided by bribing Courtiers, he is raised to this high seat of honour. Nor blushes he, to see himself advanced over the heads of ten times higher worths; but takes it all forsooth, to his merits; and looks (as all upstarts do) for most huge observance. Well, my mind must stoop to his high place, and learn within itself to sever him from that, and to adore Authority the Goddess, however borne by an unworthy beast; and let the Beasts dull apprehension take the honour done to Isis, done to himself. I must sit fast, and be sure to give no hold to these fault-hunting enemies. Exit.  Tomb opens, and Lysander within lies along, Cynthia and Ero. Lys. 
Pray thee disturb me not; put out the lights.  Ero. 
Faith I'll take a nap again.  Cyn. 
Thou shalt not rest before I be resolved  
What happy wind hath driven thee back to harbour?  
Was it my love?  Lys. 
No.  Cyn. 
Yet say so (sweet) that with the thought thereof I may enjoy all that I wish in earth.  Lys. 
I am sought for. A crucified body is stolen while I loitered here; and I must die for't,  Cyn. 
Die? All the Gods forbid; O this affright torments me ten parts more than the sad loss of my dear husband.  Lys. 
(Damnation) I believe thee.  Cyn. 
Yet hear a woman's wit.  
Take counsel of Necessity and it.  
I have a body here which once I loved  
And honoured above all; but that time's passed.  Lys. 
It is, revenge it heaven.  Cyn. 
That shall supply at so extreme a need the vacant Gibbet.  Lys. 
Canero. What? thy husband's body?  Cyn. 
What hurt is't, being dead it save the living?  Lys. 
O heart hold in, check thy rebellious motion.  Cyn. 
Vex not thyself dear love, nor use delay.  
Tempt not this danger, set thy hands to work.  Lys. 
I can not do't; my heart will not permit  
My hands to execute a second murder.  
The truth is I am he that slew thy husband.  Cyn. 
The Gods forbid.  Lys. 
It was this hand that bathed my reeking sword  
In his life blood, while he cried out for mercy,  
But I remorseless, paunched him, cut his throat,  
He with his last breath crying, Cynthia.  Cyn. 
O thou hast told me news that cleaves my heart;  
Would I had never seen thee, or heard sooner  
This bloody story; yet see, note my truth  
Yet I must love thee.  Lys. 
Out upon the Monster.  
Go, tell the Governor; Let me be brought  
To die for that most famous villainy;  
Not for this miching base transgression  
Of tenant negligence.  Cyn. 
I can not do't.  
Love must salve any murder: I'll be judge  
Of thee dear love, and these shall be thy pains  
In steed of iron, to suffer these soft chains.  Lys. 
O I am infinitely obliged.  Cyn. 
Arise I say, thou saver of my life.  
Do not with vain-affrighting conscience  
Betray a life, that is not thine but mine:  
Rise and preserve it.  Lys. 
Ha? thy husband's body?  
Hang't up you say, in steed of that that's stolen;  
Yet I his murderer, is that your meaning?  Cyn. 
It is my Love.  Lys. 
Thy love amazes me,  
The point is yet how we shall get it thither,  
Ha? Tie a halter about's neck, and drag him to the Gallows: shall I my love?  Cyn. 
So you may do indeed,  
Or if your own strength will not serve, we'll aid  
Our hands to yours, and bear him to the place.  
For heavens love come, the night goes off apace.  Lys. 
All the infernal plagues dwell in thy soul;  
I'll fetch a crow of iron to break the coffin.  Cyn. 
Do love, be speedy.  Lys. 
As I wish thy damnation. Shut the Tomb.  
O I could tear myself into atoms; off with this Antic, the shirt that Hercules wore for his wife, was not more baneful. Is't possible there should be such a latitude in the Sphere of this sex, to entertain such an extension of mischief, and not turn Devil. What is a woman? what are the worst when the best are so past naming? As men like this let them try their wives again. Put women to the test; discover them; paint them, paint them ten parts more than they do themselves, rather than look on them as they are; Their wits are but painted that dislike their painting. Thou foolish thirster after idle secrets, And ill's abroad; look home, and store & choke thee; There sticks an Achelon's horn of all, Copy enough.  
As much as Alizon of streams receives,  
Or lofty Ilea shows of shady leaves. Enter Tharsalio.  
Who's that?  Thar. 
I wonder Lycus fails me. Nor can I hear what's become of him. He would not certain ride to Dipolis to call my brother back, without my knowledge.  Lys. 
My brother's voice; what makes he hereabouts so untimely? I'll slip him. Exiturus.  Thar. 
Who goes there?  Lys. 
A friend.  Thar. 
Dear friend, let's know you. A friend least looked for but most welcome, and with many a long look expected here. What sir unbooted? have you been long arrived?  Lys. 
Not long, some two hours before night.  Thar. 
Well brother, youhave the most rare, admirable, unmatchable wife, that ever suffered for the sin of a husband. I cannot blame your confidence indeed now: 'tis built on such infallible ground; Lycus I think be gone to call you to the rescue of her life; why she! O incomprehensible!  Lysan. 
I have heard all related since my arrival, we'll meet tomorrow.  Thar. 
What haste brother? But was it related with what untolerable pains, I and my Mistress, her other friends, Matrons and Magistrates, laboured her diversion from that course?  Lys. 
Yes, yes.  Thar. 
What streams of tears she poured out; what tresses of her hair she tore! and offered on your supposed hearse!  Lys. 
I have heard all.  Thar. 
But above all; how since that time, her eyes never harboured wink of slumber, these six days; no nor tasted the least dram of any sustenance.  Lys. 
How is that assured?  Thar. 
Not a scruple.  Lys. 
Are you sure there came no Soldier to her nor brought her victuals?  Thar. 
Soldier? what Soldier?  Lys. 
Why some Soldier of the watch, that attends the executed bodies: well brother I am in haste; tomorrow shall supply this night's defect of conference; Adieu. Exit. Lys.  Thar. 
A Soldier? of the watch? bring her victuals? Go to brother I have you in the wind; he's unharnessed of all his travailing accoutrements. I came directly from's house, no word of him there; he knows the whole relation; he's passionate: All collections speak he was the Soldier. What should be the riddle of this? that he is stolen hither into a soldiers disguise? he should have stayed at Dipolis to receive news from us. Whether he suspected our relation; or had not patience to expect it, or whether that furious, frantic capricious Devil jealousy hath tossed him hither on his horns, I can not conjecture. But the case is clear, he's the Soldier. Sister, look to your fame, your chastity's uncovered. Are they here still? here believe it both most woefully weeping over the bottle. He knocks.  Ero. 
Who's there.  Thar. 
Tharsalio, open.  Ero. 
Alas Sir, 'tis no boot to vex your sister, and yourself, she is desperate, & will not hear persuasion, she's very weak.  Thar. 
Here's a true-bred chambermaid. Alas, I am sorry for't; I have brought her meat and Candian wine to strengthen her.  Ero. 
O the very naming an't, will drive her into a swoon; good Sir forbear.  Thar. 
Yet open sweet, that I may bless mine eyes with sight of her fair shrine; and of thy sweetest self (her famous panderess) open I say. Sister? you hear me well, paint not your Tomb without; we know too well what rotten carcases are lodged within; open I say. Ero opens, and he sees her head laid on the coffin, etc. Sister I have brought you tidings to wake you out of this sleeping mummery.  Ero. 
Alas she's faint, and speech is painful to her.  Thar. 
Well said frubber, was there no Soldier here lately?  Ero. 
A Soldier? when?  Thar. 
This night, last night, other night; and I know not how many nights and days.  Cyn. 
whose's there?  Ero. 
Your brother Mistress, that asks if there were not a soldier here.  Cyn. 
Here was no soldier.  Ero. 
Yes Mistress I think here was such a one though you took no heed of him.  Thar. 
Go to sister; did not you join kisses, embraces, and plight indeed with him, the utmost pledge of Nuptial love with him. deny't, deny't; but first hear me a short story. The Soldier was your disguised husband, dispute it not. That you see yonder, is but a shadow, an empty chest containing nothing but air. Stand not to gaze at it, 'tis true. This was a project of his own contriving to put your loyalty & constant vows to the test; you're warned, be armed. Exit.  Ero. 
O fie a these perils.  Cyn. 
O Ero! we are undone.  Ero. 
Nay, you'd near be warned; I ever wished you to withstand the push of that soldiers pike, and not enter him too deep into your bosom, but to keep sacred your widows vows made to Lysander.  Cyn. 
Thou didst, thou didst.  Ero. 
Now you may see th'event. Well our safety lies in our speed: he'll do us mischief, if we prevent not his coming. Let's to your Mothers: and there call out your mightiest friends to guard you from his fury. Let them begin the quarrel with him for practising this villainy on your sex to entrap your frailties.  Cyn. 
Nay I resolve to sit out one brunt more; to try to what aim he'll enforce his project: were he some other man, unknown to me, his violence might awe me; but knowing him as I do, I fear him not. Do thou but second me, thy strength and mine shall master his best force, if he should prove outrageous. Despair they say makes cowards turn courageous. Shut up the Tomb. Shut the Tomb.  Enter one of the Soldiers sent out before to seek the Sentinel. 1. 
All pains are lost in hunting out this Soldier; his fear (adding wings to his heels) outgoes us as far as the fresh Hare the tired hounds. Who goes there? Ent. 2. soldier another way  2. 
A friend.  1. 
O, your success and mine touching this Sentinel, tells, I suppose, one tale; he's far enough I undertake by this time.  2. 
I blame him not: the law's severe (though just and can not be dispensed.)  1. 
Why should the laws of Paphos, with more rigour, then other City laws pursue offenders? that not appeased with their lives forfeit, exact a justice of them after death? And if a Soldier in his watch forsooth lose one of the dead bodies, he must die for't: It seems the State needed no soldiers when that was made a law.  2. 
So we may chide the fire for burning us; or say the be's not good because she stings; 'tis not the body the law respects, but the soldiers neglect; when the watch (the guard and safety of the City) is left abandoned to all hazards. But let him go; and tell me if your news sort with mine, for Lycus; apprehended they say, about Lysander's murder.  1. 
'tis true; he's at the Captains lodge under guard, and 'tis my charge in the morning to unclose the leaden coffin, and discover the body; The Captain will assay an old conclusion often approved; that at the murderers sight the blood revives again, and boil afresh; and every wound has a condemning voice to cry out guilty 'gainst the murderer.  2. 
O world, if this be true; his dearest friend, his bed companion, whom of all his friends he culled out for his bosom!  1. 
Tush man, in this topsy-turvy world, friendship and bosom kindness, are but made covers for mischief, means to compass ill. Near-allied trust, is but a bridge for treason. The presumptions cry loud against him; his answers found disjointed; cross-legged tripping up one another. He names a Town whether he brought Lysander murmured by Mountainers, that's false, some of the dwellers have been here, and all disclaim it. Besides, the wounds he bears in show, are such as shrews closely give their husbands, that never bleed, and find to be counterfeit.  2. 
O that jade falsehood is never sound of all; but halts of one leg still. Truth pace is all upright; sound everywhere.  
And like a die, sets ever on a square.  
And how is Lycus his bearing in this condition?  1. 
Faith (as the manner of such desperate offenders is till it come to the point) careless, & confident, laughing at all that seem to pity him. But leave it to th'event. Night fellow Soldier, you'll not meet me in the morning at the Tomb, and lend me your hand to the unrigging of Lysander's hearse.  2. 
I care not if I do, to view heavens power in this unbottomed seller. Blood, though it sleep a time, yet never dies.  
The Gods on murderers fix revengeful eyes. Exeunt Lysander solus with a crow of iron, and a halter which he lays down and puts on his disguise again.  
COme my borrowed disguise, let me once more  
Be reconciled to thee, my trustiest friend;  
Thou that in truest shape hast let me see  
That which my truer self hath hid from me,  
Help me to take revenge on a disguise,  
Ten times more false and counterfeit than thou.  
Thou, false in show, hast been most true to me;  
The seeming true; hath proved more false than her.  
Assist me to behold this act of lust,  
Note with a Scene of strange impiety.  
Her husbands murdered corpse! O more than horror!  
I'll not believe't untried; If she but lift  
A hand to act it; by the fates her brains fly out,  
Since she has madded me; let her beware my horns.  
For though by goring her, no hope be shown  
To cure myself, yet I'll not bleed alone. He knocks.  Ero. 
Who knocks? Lys The soldier; open. she opens & he enters  
See sweet, here are the engines that must do't,  
Which with much fear of my discovery  
I have at last procured.  
Shall we about this work? I fear the morn  
Will overtake's; my stay hath been prolonged  
With hunting obscure nooks for these employments,  
The night prepares away; Come, art resolved.  Cyn. 
ay, you shall find me constant.  Lys. 
ay, so I have, most prodigiously constant,  
Here's a rare halter to hug him with.  Ero. 
Better you and I join our hands and bear him thither, you take his head.  Cyn. 
ay, for that was always heavier than's whole body besides  Lys. 
You can tell best that loaded it.  Ero. 
I'll be at the feet; I am able to bear against you I warrant you.  Lys. 
Hast thou prepared weak nature to digest  
A sight so much distasteful; hast served thy heart  
I bleed not at the bloody spectacle?  
Hast armed thy fearful eyes against th'affront  
Of such a direful object?  
Thy murmured husband ghastly staring on thee;  
His wounds gaping to affright thee; his body soiled with  
Gore? fore heaven my heart shrugs at it.  Cyn. 
So does not mine,  
love's resolute; and stands not to consult  
With petty terror; but in full carrier  
Runs blindfold through an Army of misdoubts,  
And interposing fears; perhaps I'll weep  
Or so, make a forc't face and laugh again.  Lys. 
O most valiant love!  
I was thinking with myself as I came; how if this  
broke to light; his body known;  
(As many notes might make it) would it not fix  
Upon thy fame, an unremoved Brand  
Of shame, and hate; they that in former times  
Adored thy virtue; would they not abhor  
Thy loathest memory?  Cyn. 
All this I know.  
But yet my love to thee  
Swallows all this; or whatsoever doubts  
Can come against it.  
Shame's but a feather balanced with thy love.  Lys. 
Neither fear nor shame? you are steel toth'  
Proof (but I shall iron you): Come then let's to work.  
Alas poor Corpse how many martyrdoms  
Must thou endure? mangled by me a villain,  
And now exposed to foul shame of the Gibbet?  
Fore, piety, there is somewhat in me strives  
Against the deed, my very arm relents  
To strike a stroke so inhuman,  
To wound a hallowed hearse? suppose 'twere mine,  
Would not my Ghost start up and fly upon thee?  Cyn. 
No, I'd maul it down again with this. She snatches up the crow.  Lys. 
How now? He catches at her throat.  Cyn. 
Nay, then I'll assay my strength; a Soldier and a arrayed a dead man? A soft-r'ode milksop? come I'll do't myself.  Lys. 
And I look on? give me the iron.  Cyn. 
No, I'll not lose the glory an't. This hand, etc.  Lys. 
Pray thee sweet, let it not be said the savage act was thine; deliver me the engine.  Cyn. 
Content yourself, 'tis in a fitter hand.  Lys. 
Wilt thou first? art not thou the most.  Cyn. 
Ill-destined wife of a transformed monster;  
Who to assure himself of what he knew,  
Hath lost the shape of man.  Lys. 
Ha? cross-capers?  Cyn. 
Poor soldiers case; do not we know you Sir?  
But I have given thee what thou cam'st to seek.  
Go Satire, run affrighted with the noise  
Of that harsh sounding horn thyself hast blown,  
Farewell; I leave thee there my husband's Corpse,  
Make much of that. Exit. cum Er.  Lys. 
What have I done? O let me lie and grieve, and speak no more.  Captain, Lycus with a guard of three or four Soldiers. Cap. 
BRing him away; you must have patience Sir: If you can say aught to quit you of those presumptions that lie heavy on you, you shall be heard. If not, 'tis not your braves, nor your affecting looks can carry it. We must acquit our duties.  Lyc. 
You're Captain a th' watch Sir.  Cap. 
You take me right.  Lyc. 
So were you best do me; see your presumptions be strong; or be assured that shall prove a dear presumption, to brand me with the murder of my friend. But you have been suborned by some close villain to defame me.  Cap. 
'twill not be so put off friend Lycus, I could wish your soul as free from taint of this foul fact; as mine from any such unworthy practice.  Lyc. 
Conduct me to the Governor himself; to confront before him your shallow accusations.  Cap. 
First Sir, I'll bear you to Lysander's Tomb, to confront the murmured body; and see what evidence the wounds will yield against you.  Lyc. 
You're wise Captain. But if the body should chance not to speak; If the wounds should be tongue-tied Captain; where's then your evidence Captain? will you not be laughed at for an officious Captain?  Cap. 
You're gallant Sir.  Lyc. 
Your Captainship commands my service no further.  Cap. 
Well Sir, perhaps I may, if this conclusion take not; we'll try what operation lies in torture, to pull confession from you.  Lyc. 
Say you so Captain? but hark you Captain, Might it not concur with the quality of your office, ere this matter grow to the height of a more threatening danger; to wink a little at a by slip, or so?  Cap. 
How's that?  Lyc. 
To send a man abroad under guard of one of your silliest shack-rags; that be may beat the knave, and runs way. I mean this on good terms Captain; I'll be thankful.  Cap. 
I'll think on't hereafter. Mean time I have other employment for you.  Lyc. 
Your place is worthily replenished Captain. My duty Sir; Hark Captain, there's a mutiny in your Army; I'll go raise the Governor. Exiturus.  Cap. 
No haste Sir; he'll soon be here without your summons.  soldiers thrust up Lysander from the Tomb. 1. 
Bring forth the Knight o'th' Tomb; have we meet with you Sir?  Lys. 
Pray thee soldier use thine office with better temper.  2. 
Come convey him to the Lord Governor, First afore the Captain Sir. Have the heavens nought else to do, but to stand still, and turn all their malignant Aspects upon one man?  2. 
Captain here's the Sentinel we sought for; he's some new priest Soldier, for none of us know him.  Cap. 
Where found you him?  1. 
My truant was mich't Sir into a blind corner of the Tomb.  Cap. 
Well said, guard him safe, burr for the Corpse.  1. 
For the Corpse Sir? bare misprision, there's nobody, nothing. A mere blandation; a deceptio visus. Unless this soldier for hunger have eat up Lysander's body.  Lyc. 
Why, I could have told you this before Captain; The body was borne away piece-meal by devout Ladies of Venus' order, for the man died one of Venus' martyrs. And yet I heard since 'twas seen whole o'th' other side the downs upon a cowl-staff betwixt two huntsmen, to feed their dogs withal. Which was a miracle Captain.  Cap. 
Mischief in this act hath a deep bottom; and requires more time to sound it. But you Sir, it seems, are a Soldier of the newest stamp. Know you what 'tis to forsake your stand? There's one of the bodies in your charge stolen away; how answer you that? See here comes the Governor.  Enter a Guard bore after the Governor: Tharsalio, Argus, Clinias, before Eudora, Cynthia, Laodice, Sthenio, janthe, Ero, etc. Guard. 
STand aside there.  Cap. 
Room for a strange Governor. The perfect draft of a most brainless, imperious upstart. O desert! where wert thou, when this wooden dagger was guilded over with the Title of Governor?  Guard. 
Peace Masters; hear my Lord.  Thar. 
All wisdom be silent; Now speaks Authority.  Gouer. 
I am come in person to discharge justice.  Thar. 
Of his office.  Gouer. 
The cause you shall know hereafter; and it is this. A villain, whose very sight I abhor; where is he? Let me see him.  Cap. 
Is't Lycus you mean my Lord?  Gouer. 
Go to sirrah you're too malapert; I have heard of your Sentinels escape; look to't.  Cap. 
My Lord, this is the Sentinel you speak of.  Gouer. 
How now Sir? what time a day be't?  Arg. 
I can not show you precisely, an't please your Honour.  Gouer. 
What? shall we have replications? Rejoinders?  Thar. 
Such a creature, Fool is, when he bestrides the back of Authority.  Gouer. 
Sirrah, stand you forth. It is supposed thou hast committed a most inconvenient murder upon the body of Lysander.  Lyc. 
My good Lord, I have not.  Gouer. 
Peace varlet; dost chop with me? I say it is imagined thou hast murmured Lysander. How it will be proved I know not. Thou shalt therefore presently be had to execution, as justice in such cases requireth. soldiers take him away: bring forth the Sentinel.  Lyc. 
Your Lordship will first let my defence be heard.  Gouer. 
Sirrah; I'll no fending nor proving. For my part I am satisfied, it is so: that's enough for thee. I had ever a Sympathy in my mind against him.  
Let him be had away.  Thar. 
A most excellent apprehension. he's able ye see to judge of a cause at first sight, and hear but two parties. Here's a second Solon.  Eud. 
Hear him my Lord; presumptions oftentimes,  
(Though likely grounded) reach not to the truth.  
And Truth is oft abused by likelihood.  
Let him be heard my Lord.  Gouer. 
Madam, content yourself. I will do justice; I will not hear him. Your late Lord, was my Honourable Predecessor: But your Ladyship must pardon me. In matters of justice I am blind.  Thar. 
That's true.  Gouer. 
I know no persons. If a Court favourite write to me in a case of justice: I will pocket his letter, and proceed. If a Suitor in a case of justice thrusts a bribe into my hand, I will pocket his bribe, and proceed. Therefore Madam, set your heart at rest: I am seated in the Throne of justice; and I will do justice; I will not hear him.  Eud. 
Not hear him my Lord?  Gouer. 
No my Lady: and moreover put you in mind, in whose presence you stand; if you parrot to me long; go to.  Thar. 
Nay the Vice must snap his Authority at all he meets, how shalt else be known what part he plays?  Gouer. 
Your husband was a Noble Gentleman, but Alas he came short, he was no Statesman. He has left a foul City behind him.  Thar. 
ay, and I can tell you 'twill trouble his Lordship and all his Honourable assistants of scavengers to sweep it clean.  Gouer. 
It's full of vices, and great ones too.  Thar. 
And thou none of the meanest.  Gouer. 
But I'll turn all topsy-turvy; and set up a new discipline amongst you. I'll cut of all perished members.  Thar. 
That's the surgeon's office.  Gouer. 
Cast out these rotten stinking carcases for infecting the whole City.  Arg. 
Rotten they may be, but their wenches use to pepper them; and their Surgeons to parboil them; and that preserves them from stinking, an't please your Honour.  Gouer. 
Peace Sirrah, peace; and yet 'tis well said too. A good pregnant fellow i'faith. But to proceed. I will spew drunkenness out o'th' City.  Thar. 
In to th' Country.  Gouer. 
Shifters shall cheat and starve; And no man shall do good but where there is no need. Braggarts shall live at the head; and the tumult that haunt Taverns. ass's shall bear good qualities, and wise men shall use them. I will whip lechery out o'th' City, there shall be no more Cuckolds. They that heretofore were errand Cornutos, shall now be honest shopkeepers, and justice shall take place. I will hunt jealousy out of my Dominion.  Thar. 
Do hear Brother?  Gouer. 
It shall be the only note of love to the husband, to love the wife: And none shall be more kindly welcome to him than he that cuckolds him.  Thar. 
Believe it a wholesome reformation.  Gouer. 
I'll have no more Beggars. fools shall have wealth, and the learned shall live by their wits. I'll have no more bankrupts. They that owe money shall pay it at their best leisure: And the rest shall make a virtue of imprisonment; and their wives shall help to pay their debts. I'll have all young widows spaded for marrying again. For the old and withered, they shall be confiscate to unthrifty Gallants, and decayed Knights. If they be poor they shall be burnt to make soap ashes, or given to surgeon's Hall, to be stamped to salve for the French measles. To conclude, I will Cart pride out o'th' Town.  Arg. 
An't please your Honour Pride an't be near so beggarly will look for a Coach.  Gouer. 
Well said a mine Honour. A good significant fellow i'faith: What is he? he talks much; does he follow your Ladyship?  Arg. 
No an't please your Honour, I go before her.  Governor 
A good undertaking presence; A well-promising forehead, your Gentleman Usher Madam?  Eud. 
Yours if you please my Lord.  Gouer. 
Borne i'th' City?  Arg. 
I an't please your Honour, but begot i'th' Court.  Gouer. 
Tressellegged?  Arg. 
ay, an't please your Honour.  Gouer. 
The better, it bears a breadth; makes room a both sides. Might I not see his pace? Argus stalks.  Arg. 
Yes an't please your Honour.  Gouer. 
'tis well, 'tis very well. Give me thy hand: madam I will accept this property at your hand, and will wear it threadbare for your sake. Fall in there, sirrah. And for the matter of Lycus Madam, I must tell you, you are shallow: there's a State point in't? hark you: The Viceroy has given him, and we must uphold correspondence. He must walk; say one man goes wrongfully out o'th' world, there are hundreds to one come wrongfully into th' world.  Eud. 
Your Lordship will give me but a word in private.  Thar. 
Come brother; we know you well: what means this habit? why stayed you not at Dipolis as you resolved, to take advertisement for us of your wives bearing?  Lys. 
O brother, this jealous frenzy has borne me headlong to ruin.  Thar. 
Go to, be comforted; uncase yourself; and discharge your friend.  Gouer. 
Is that Lysander say you? And is all his story true? by’r lady Madam this jealousy will cost him dear: he undertook the person of a Soldier; and as a Soldier must have justice. Madam, his Altitude in this case can not dispense. Lycus, this Soldier hath acquitted you.  Thar. 
And that acquittal I'll for him requite; the body lost, is by this time restored to his place.  Soul. 
It is my Lord.  Thar. 
These are State points, in which your Lordship's time has not yet trained your Lordship; please your Lordship's grace's Nuptial we have now in hand.  Hylus and Laodice stand together. 
Twixt this young Lady and this Gentleman.  
Your Lordship there shall care the ample story.  
And how the Ass wrapped in a lions skin  
Fearfully roared, but his large ears appeared  
And made him laughed at, that before was feared.  Gouer. 
I'll go with you. For my part, I am at a non plus.  Eudora whispers with Cynthia! Thar. 
Come brother; Thank the Countess: she hath suet to make your peace. Sister give me your hand.  
So; Brother let your lips compound the strife,  
And think you have the only constant Wife.  Exeunt.   
FINIS.